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gilascaveI'm getting my feet wet in the DW universe. Mmm, Jack. Rated PG.
Jack has rules; he has a lot of rules, most of which he tosses aside whenever the situation demands it. He was raised in a time and place that said live for the moment and hey, fancy a shag, and what's in this drink anyway can I have the recipe as species mottos.
His hometown-century isn't quite as carefree and hedonistic as the history books put forth, but he's never been able to get through an argument with any of the historians from his future, before getting everyone in the room naked and the whole point of looking up the academics was forgotten.
But he does have rules, some more sacrosanct than others, and two which he has never, ever broken. The first is simple: anyone insane enough to swear off sex for spiritual reasons, is off limits. Jack knows it has nothing to do with any religious beliefs of his own, nor really any real respect for those who had them. Rather, it's a direct result of the downright *creepy* monks that had still been around on the 51st century Earth, serene and peaceful and so completely unconcerned with everything that made life worth living.
He'd had a friend join a monastery at age 17, and five years later when Jack had run into him again, it was as though they'd never even kissed, much less fucked like dogs for one entire summer. There are things in the time-space that make Jack shudder, that give off seriously bad vibes, and the idea that humans might not *need* to feel good in order to be happy is near the top of Jack's list of Things To Avoid.
The second rule is never sleep with married people, unless they ask first.
That one has nothing to do with pragmatism. He'd been chased by angry spouses, lovers, parents, and pet wathrogs enough to not be bothered by the risk of someone finding out. He's had enough practise getting out of the line of fire that it's part of the thrill, and there have been times when he's deliberately sought out the third wife of the fifth most powerful woman on the planet, just to see how far to the edge of the solar system he can get before he has to jump the time line to get away.
But they have to *ask*. If they're in love, and they're happy, and they don't look Jack's way when he smiles, then he moves on. Plenty of people who smile back, who gladly let him draw near, charming his way into 'get to know you better' followed by 'wouldn't happen to have more lube handy?' Even species who generate their own eventually run dry, Jack has found: the universal constant isn't alcohol, despite the Well-Reasoned Article of Pathis Three, University of Santiago. It isn't even sex, exactly -- it's the fact that *everyone* needs a spot of lubricant now and then.
There is the possible exception of the mature female Mrock, but Jack has personal experience that if you use enough rope, then even they need lubricant to avoid chafing.
It's pointless knowledge at the moment because he's shut up in the TARDIS' library, reading random books just as though he were traveling alone. Never waste a chance to learn something that might keep you alive, or earn you some cash, is one of the rules Jack usually keeps, though he's perfectly willing to break it if there's something more fun to do.
But he saw them dancing together, and he knew he had to stop flirting. He made a sincere effort which lasted half an hour, then he took himself off and began reading. He's been there ever since, half a handful of hours, and he's fairly sure that when he wanders out and sees them again he'll have to remember to fight the impulse, because Jack very rarely deprives himself of fun, or beauty, and these two are both of those.
And since he isn't stupid, he's already decided to hang around and see if one or the other or both, will get around to asking.
Jack has rules; he has a lot of rules, most of which he tosses aside whenever the situation demands it. He was raised in a time and place that said live for the moment and hey, fancy a shag, and what's in this drink anyway can I have the recipe as species mottos.
His hometown-century isn't quite as carefree and hedonistic as the history books put forth, but he's never been able to get through an argument with any of the historians from his future, before getting everyone in the room naked and the whole point of looking up the academics was forgotten.
But he does have rules, some more sacrosanct than others, and two which he has never, ever broken. The first is simple: anyone insane enough to swear off sex for spiritual reasons, is off limits. Jack knows it has nothing to do with any religious beliefs of his own, nor really any real respect for those who had them. Rather, it's a direct result of the downright *creepy* monks that had still been around on the 51st century Earth, serene and peaceful and so completely unconcerned with everything that made life worth living.
He'd had a friend join a monastery at age 17, and five years later when Jack had run into him again, it was as though they'd never even kissed, much less fucked like dogs for one entire summer. There are things in the time-space that make Jack shudder, that give off seriously bad vibes, and the idea that humans might not *need* to feel good in order to be happy is near the top of Jack's list of Things To Avoid.
The second rule is never sleep with married people, unless they ask first.
That one has nothing to do with pragmatism. He'd been chased by angry spouses, lovers, parents, and pet wathrogs enough to not be bothered by the risk of someone finding out. He's had enough practise getting out of the line of fire that it's part of the thrill, and there have been times when he's deliberately sought out the third wife of the fifth most powerful woman on the planet, just to see how far to the edge of the solar system he can get before he has to jump the time line to get away.
But they have to *ask*. If they're in love, and they're happy, and they don't look Jack's way when he smiles, then he moves on. Plenty of people who smile back, who gladly let him draw near, charming his way into 'get to know you better' followed by 'wouldn't happen to have more lube handy?' Even species who generate their own eventually run dry, Jack has found: the universal constant isn't alcohol, despite the Well-Reasoned Article of Pathis Three, University of Santiago. It isn't even sex, exactly -- it's the fact that *everyone* needs a spot of lubricant now and then.
There is the possible exception of the mature female Mrock, but Jack has personal experience that if you use enough rope, then even they need lubricant to avoid chafing.
It's pointless knowledge at the moment because he's shut up in the TARDIS' library, reading random books just as though he were traveling alone. Never waste a chance to learn something that might keep you alive, or earn you some cash, is one of the rules Jack usually keeps, though he's perfectly willing to break it if there's something more fun to do.
But he saw them dancing together, and he knew he had to stop flirting. He made a sincere effort which lasted half an hour, then he took himself off and began reading. He's been there ever since, half a handful of hours, and he's fairly sure that when he wanders out and sees them again he'll have to remember to fight the impulse, because Jack very rarely deprives himself of fun, or beauty, and these two are both of those.
And since he isn't stupid, he's already decided to hang around and see if one or the other or both, will get around to asking.