Re: Quicklog: Jack & Newt at the B&B
[He hadn't tried keeping an animal before. Outside had been considerably better than inside when young as Newt well knew, but Jack didn't try dragging it in so much as staying out in it permanently. There had been no question of animals in the glass-and-concrete apartment Jen had handed him keys to, so he was pig-ignorant of the creatures until the animal currently spread across Newt's knees like a ridiculously furry lap rug. Pedantry, Jack managed even when it applied to subjects about which he knew less than nothing. Looking at Newt now, he thought he knew considerably less than nothing.]
Is this the first? [Jack meant the book. He lifted his head to look at Newt as the man meted out explanation as if folding very precise lines into paper. It wasn't particularly revealing, but what had he bloody expected? They weren't, as a family, prone to flights of explanation and sharing. And his father had died in the middle of Newt's work. At one point, the eldest Penhaligon's decline would have been a sharp annoyance, one to be circumvented by judicious planning of flight-times around funerary arrangements. But there were none. Christ alone knew if there was anyone still related to the old bastard other than them both.]
What look? [Newt's gaze once trained had a searching quality that Jack knew particularly well because he'd had his own once. It was a particular question, well chosen and Jack felt the discomfort of somebody on the other end of his own tools.]