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WHO: Jack Harkness and you!
WHERE: Some coffeeshop!
WHEN: Sunday evening.
WARNINGS: Jack. That's it.
SUMMARY: Jack hangs out at a coffee shop and talks boys with Jessica. Or whoever, he's not picky.
FORMAT: Words?

[Jack's sprawled out in some corner of a relatively quiet cafe, reading a book. The coffee, true, is not as good as Ianto's. But it's close, even though it's making him a bit homesick. He's waiting for Jessica to join him, though of course he would not be opposed to other company. Come bother him!]

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[Spidey's normally one for the practicality and price point of the City's food carts, but tonight he's indulging a whimsy for a sit-down meal and slightly more nourishing fare ... A triple espresso and a bagel and cream cheese is totally nourishing as long as you get a salad with them, right?

He leans against the counter waiting for his order to be finished, ignoring the stares and muttered comments of the cafe's other denizens with the nonchalance of long practice while he cheerfully rags on the Red Sox with the barista.]

Edited 2012-10-03 23:47 (UTC)

[And Jack is sitting across from him, being offered a very nice view (in his opinion) of said costumed hero's rear end. --Well. It couldn't hurt to make friends, could it? So he gets up and heads over to lean next to Spidey, smiling.]

Hullo.

[He's used to hurled imprecations and wary misgivings back home, fangirling and/or -boying here. But confident, friendly approaches from total strangers? That, not so much.]

Uh, hey. Can I help you with something, Mister...?

[Probably he just wants an autograph, and is a little more chilled out than most about asking.]

Harkness. [And Jack is duly giving him the most charming smile he can muster.] Captain Jack Harkness, actually.

Um, congratulations? --Spider-Man, no title or rank. Well, I guess Spider-Man is kind of a title now. I'd call it more of a nom de spandex, though.

One of the few people I've seen who looks good in spandex, too. Or maybe I just haven't been paying enough attention around here.

Buddy, I'm flattered, but if you're rating me at the top of the chart you really haven't been paying attention.

[He oh-so-casually turns so that his back is to the counter.]

[Oh gosh, he isn't being that blatant, is he? ....Of course he is, he's Jack. Sorry, Spidey.]

Oh, I've been paying attention. Just not necessarily to the spandex-clad brigade.

[He gets his drink from the barista with a nod and thanks, then twists back in Jack's direction, shaking his coffee cup slightly as though that'll help it cool down.]

Not to sound like a narcissist, but you must have pretty good focus not to notice. We're not exactly the most -- [gesturing at his costume] -- discreet bunch, and that's without the crosstown throwdowns with giant robots and megalomaniacal supernazis.

[It probably won't, but good luck with that. Jack's sort of draping himself across the bar at the moment, purely because he can.]

Eh, I know, but I'm used to blowfish aliens stealing sports cars and driving across Cardiff. Usually with a bit more tentacles, though.

[Since Jack's clearly not going to, Spidey shrugs apologetically at the guys behind the counter.]

Tentacles I know all about, believe you me. Blowfish aliens, can't say I've had the -- erm -- pleasure.

[Yeah, sorry baristas. They probably hate him a little. :c]

They're not too much trouble, honestly. Only if they're on drugs and have blasters.

In fairness, most people are trouble if they're on drugs and have blasters.

Well, yes, I suppose that's true enough. He ended up being sent by an ex of mine anyway.

So... what exactly did you say you did for a living?

Security. Unless you mean at home, in which case it's a bit different kind of security.

Yeah, that's not at all uncomfortably euphemistic...

...Well, let's put it this way. Here, I don't fight aliens. ....All that often, anyway.

Y'know, it's funny ... we've averaged at least one disaster per month since I got here, just ballparking, and yet we've only had one alien invasion and that was just ten Skrulls. Kinda weird, at least by my universe's standards.

[Spidey takes his drink from the barista with a murmur of thanks and tilts his head towards Jack and back at the bar.]

You getting anything?

Yeah, it's a bit weird for mine, too. Loads of aliens in Cardiff.

[He nods back to his (now empty) table.]

I've got some already, over there.

Cardiff? As in Wales, right? What were aliens doing in Cardiff?

[He shuffles his feet slightly, feeling awkward. He's been enjoying the conversation more than he expected, but Cap'n Jack hasn't been what one could call subtle about his -- admiration -- and Spider-Man doesn't want to send mixed signals. Beyond the arguable point of being a straight man dressed in skintight, multicolor spandex, that is.]

Right. Ah...

Long story involving an interdimensional rift going right through the Plass.

[He nods to that table, with a grin.] You're welcome to join me if you want.

Well, you can't just casually drop an interdimensional rift into a conversation with a physicist and not expect him to follow up on it.

[He hops into a seat opposite Jack's and leans forward.]

This "Plass" thing -- it's in Wales?

Knew I'd catch your attention somehow. [That charming smile is back, looking a little more smug than normal, but don't worry, he's not really flirting. Much.]

Sure is. It's a square in Cardiff.

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