Captain Jack Harkness (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
captgreatcoat) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ten_fwd2014-06-18 12:04 am
captgreatcoat) wrote in ten_fwd2014-06-18 12:04 am
Entry tags:
First entrance
[Torchwood Three, Cardiff, during episode 1.07, Greeks Bearing Gifts.]
Tosh is going to have to learn to believe in humanity herself. Nobody can instill that faith. However hard she's going to find it to learn, at least it won't be as hard -- or as costly -- as Jack's own lesson.
He shoves his hands into his coat pockets as he strides across Roald Dahl Plass, the breeze bringing the smell of the ocean in off the bay, ruffling in his hair and at the hem of his vintage RAF greatcoat.
Until suddenly, it isn't.
Jack's footsteps pause in mid-stride and he spins, hand going automatically to his holster to draw the Webley. The dim, warm light of the plaza at night is gone, just like the salt air and that playful little breeze. The sound of running water from the tower, the shape of the Millennium Centre with its hybrid verse spelled out in windows across its front.
Instead, he's in a bar.
A bar.
"What the hell?"
Tosh is going to have to learn to believe in humanity herself. Nobody can instill that faith. However hard she's going to find it to learn, at least it won't be as hard -- or as costly -- as Jack's own lesson.
He shoves his hands into his coat pockets as he strides across Roald Dahl Plass, the breeze bringing the smell of the ocean in off the bay, ruffling in his hair and at the hem of his vintage RAF greatcoat.
Until suddenly, it isn't.
Jack's footsteps pause in mid-stride and he spins, hand going automatically to his holster to draw the Webley. The dim, warm light of the plaza at night is gone, just like the salt air and that playful little breeze. The sound of running water from the tower, the shape of the Millennium Centre with its hybrid verse spelled out in windows across its front.
Instead, he's in a bar.
A bar.
"What the hell?"
no subject
Wouldn't be his first time playing that particular game.
Hell, that was how he died.
And after more than a century working with Torchwood, he doesn't like them any better after the amount of time he's had to spend fending them off from his unwillingly-adopted planet.
"Bald guy, red clothes. I'll keep an eye out for him."