Jack laughed, couldn’t help it. “Thought your friend had informed you there’s very little I don’t find sexy. But yeah, philosophy is right up there.” It meant he wasn’t just some meathead soilder who’d joined up to shoot the other guy. He seemed to know what he was talking about and that meant so much more to him than any amount of good looks or charisma. The fact he had those too though, that was a definite bonus.
“Yup. Rory Williams. Good guy, Nurse, married to a little Scottish ginger woman and one time punched out Hitler. You can’t really argue with a guy after that, can you?” He’d had to admit, all he’d done in his life, he still admired the story. There wasn’t really anywhere you could go to top something like that. Unless you punched Lucifer. Maybe he should find and punch…
Nah. Overkill.
“I do enjoy that you keep assuming I’m American. I think I’m probably from a colony that once was American based or whatever but I’m not defending them either. Just y’know, they kept theirs up for a lot longer than the Brits or Russia managed!” he replied. Okay, he’d defend them a little bit. Maybe.
“Yup, well, walking cats. They had feet and opposable thumbs, whole nine yards. And they wore habits and wimples and were nuns. Nuns who could kill you if you got them angry.” Fun story, but not as entertaining as taunting T Rexes in helicopters.
“That’s sort of an adorable image. Probably less so when its trying to eat you but you’d just stay out of range, taunt it, and shoot. It’s what I’d do