He knows that game. And he doesn't particularly like it. He's spent most of his life being at the whim either of his fate or of somebody else, and even if he's finally got himself off Earth in the 21st century, he doesn't like that it's at someone else's whim, and a someone who appears to be very powerful and not particularly interested in what happens to the people he messes with.

"So. We're pieces in his cosmic game."

That reminds Jack a little too much of a long-ago version of himself to be an entirely comfortable prospect. He's of the opinion that the sort of power this must take -- whatever the hell sort of creature is doing this -- ought to be treated with at least a little responsibility.

But he'd spent too long at the whims of Torchwood to not feel like that.

"Nice bar. Nice company." He flashes her another smile and winks as he takes another sip of the tequila. "I can think of worse places to spend some liberty."

Once upon a time, he'd have gone looking for a place like this.