It was disconcerting only being able to move his head and the tiny bit of give he had in his arms and legs. He was going to have one hell of a wicked backache when he got out of here. Because it was a when and not an if.
The when, however, was rather variable. Jack wondered what was going to happen when she decided to kill him and he came back to life. Repeatedly.
"Don't think it's yours. I've already been through this once. You'll have to get yourself a new set of tricks." Even splayed out on an altar, Jack managed to keep his sense of humour. Or his cockiness. "Name's Captain Jack Harkness. Jack to my friends, and you'll be calling me Captain."
His eyes followed the gloved finger down his arm. "Like you poured salt in an open wound."
[OOC: No worries! I'm totally fine so no need for apologies. ♥]