Who: Captain Jack and Faith What: Hand to hand combat for practice could prove more dangerous than intended Where: The Prison Basement When: Monday morning Warnings: Violence, maybe some bad language
Feisty, just the way Jack Harkness liked his women. Human, too; that was always a plus. Nothing to worry about, except the fact that Faith seemed to hone in on him and how she knew there was something different about him. People usually just considered Jack eccentric and maybe a little bit crazy, always coming up with strange ideas, and sometimes tinkering with the prison's power supply when the maintenance workers weren't looking. They needed power to last longer, and they couldn't rely on fuel, though he was sure he could get something up and running for them he'd then probably have to explain alien technology, and even then, there was no way to maintain it without a team like he used to have.
Jack stood up from his bed, catching his own reflection in the mirror for a moment. Even after these years he still thought about them; his team, and blamed himself for everything that had happened. Bright blue eyes were dull right now, and he knew that even though they wouldn't want him to be like this, every so often he was, especially when he thought about Ianto. The man was their old security agent and one of Jack's (many) lovers that had sacrificed himself for the greater good years before. He lost everything that day, and even though he was later able to say a final goodbye to the man he didn't know he loved until he was gone, it was never enough. He'd never feel fine about watching people he loved die. Not from old age, from sickness; certainly not from his own doing.
Jack sighed and smoothed out his shirt before lifting his suspenders over his shoulders. He reached for his jacket, a long captain's jacket he'd had since World War II. It was his most prized possession, and he refused to give it up. Sure, maybe the whole 'classic' look didn't exactly fit in with a zombie apocalypse, he figured if the look worked throughout the times, he'd keep with it.
He headed through the prison, ignoring everyone today and not feeling especially social, which was strange for him. There was a bad feeling he got in the pit of his stomach about sparring with Faith, especially because he too knew that there was something... different about her. Something he intended on finding out.
He arrived first in the basement of the prison; it was pretty well maintained for being a damn basement, Jack thought, finding a spot to hang up his coat as he felt the mood shift in the room, the feeling of eyes on his back. He turned, smiled wide and nodded his head slightly.
“Hey, Boss. Glad you could make it. Where should we start?” He asked, rolling up his sleeves on his blue button down.