To tell the truth, Cherry had no idea why she was there. She had gone over a couple of possible reasons in her head, but they all boiled down to the same thing: Morbid curiosity. She could never really mind her own business. It was a personal weakness. And so, quietly, hoping to draw as little attention to herself as possible, she slipped into the room
( ... )
Jack looked down at the papers in his hands, shuffling them with a smile on his face. "I believe," he said, not yet looking up, "that attempting to hide in a corner is generally not all that successful if the room only has one other person in it."
Flashback. Suddenly, Cherry was thirteen years old, standing in Headmaster Kazan's office. The...incident, had just occurred and she was sent to wait for him there. She tried to make herself as small as possible, huddling up in a corner. And he had walked in. He hadn't said the exact same thing, of course, but it was the same general idea. And the exact same tone of voice.
Weird.
"The day's young," she replied with a shrug, casting aside that memory. "And I'm just here as an observer."
"The act of observing changes that which is observed." Jack looked up and smirked, then nodded to a chair. "Sit down. I'm not contagious." Slightly intoxicating, but not contagious. If she'd honestly only wanted to know what happened, and not interact with anything at all, she could have had someone take notes for her. "But I am very curious about why you're so determined to not get involved, and yet you can't seem to disengage entirely."
As opposed to Cherry, Cris knew exactly why he was there. Although he no longer harbored resentment toward Jack -- who, he had to admit, was likely a better leader than Cris would have been -- he still wanted to have some say in the goings-on of the city. He needed to stay involved, a part of the community.
He strolled right in, surveying the room and the so far meager crowd. "Afternoon."
"Afternoon," Jack returned. He gestured to the chairs with one hand. "Have a seat?" He hadn't really expected everyone to be on time. Even without it acting up, time was a difficult thing to keep track of in Rowan. Jack checked his pocket watch, tucked into his trouser pocket with the chain attached to his belt instead of a buttonhole. The full three piece looked better on Ianto, anyway. Jack generally found them too constricting.
He'd actually started the day in a proper suit. The jacket had been abandoned almost immediately. The waistcoat had only lasted a few more hours. Now his cuffs were undone and his shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows.
Absently, he added 'reliable time' to the bottom of his list. Not a priority, but something to keep in mind. "Would anyone like a drink? Coffee?"
"I'm alright, thanks." Cris wasn't much for coffee, he was picky about his tea, and somehow he didn't think Jack meant to imply any other sort of drink. Unless this was a different sort of meeting than he'd been led to believe. He settled into a chair.
"Nice day for it," he added in a serviceable attempt at small talk, with a nod toward the window. "We could almost be doing this outside."
Bret had, admittedly, forgotten about the meeting until he'd glanced at his journal and seen Jack's note. He figured he had time, so he'd gone for a walk and, thinking of Jack and his penchant for roofs, had made the extra effort to take his walk onto the raised walkways for a few minutes before getting dizzy and laying down on his stomach in the center of one of the paths
( ... )
"Bret." Jack smiled and gestured to one of the chairs. He was glad Bret had shown up. "Have a seat. Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea?" Jemaine probably wasn't coming, because he didn't like Jack and was being an ass about it, so he hadn't actually expected to see Bret. It was a nice surprise.
Bret smiled. "Tea, yeah. Thanks." He took a seat, feeling a little awkward sitting on his own. At least Jack was talking to him. He didn't look completely lonely. As far as Bret knew, looking lonely was only worth it to pick up girls, which he didn't really intend to do.
Better make conversation. "How're you?" He licked his lips, trying to think of what he could ask that didn't involve Ianto somehow. It was difficult. Bret wondered if the same could be said of him and Jemaine.
Jack poured from the pot that he'd already made at Cho's request. "I'm good. Busy. Hoping to streamline that today. You?" He'd never really bothered with putting the tea into bags, but Ianto and Cho had made some of those little strainers that went over the top of the cup, and Jack caught the leaves with one before they made it into Bret's beverage. "Milk or sugar?"
Tails was running a little behind. There had been a couple of small repairs that had come up and taken just longer than he expected. When he realized he was late though, he'd rushed to the meeting as fast as he could. Now, out of breath and trying not to interrupt or draw attention, he slipped into the room. It looked like there weren't many people here yet. "Um, did I miss anything?" he asked awkwardly.
Gabriel hadn't really intended to show up the meeting. He didn't want to. Cho would be there, good citizen that she was, and she was ninety pounds of terrifying. Which, yes, was pathetic, whatever. Plus the whole Jack Harkness being a real guy was kind of weird. Kind of awesome too, but weird
( ... )
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Weird.
"The day's young," she replied with a shrug, casting aside that memory. "And I'm just here as an observer."
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He strolled right in, surveying the room and the so far meager crowd. "Afternoon."
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He'd actually started the day in a proper suit. The jacket had been abandoned almost immediately. The waistcoat had only lasted a few more hours. Now his cuffs were undone and his shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows.
Absently, he added 'reliable time' to the bottom of his list. Not a priority, but something to keep in mind. "Would anyone like a drink? Coffee?"
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"Nice day for it," he added in a serviceable attempt at small talk, with a nod toward the window. "We could almost be doing this outside."
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Better make conversation. "How're you?" He licked his lips, trying to think of what he could ask that didn't involve Ianto somehow. It was difficult. Bret wondered if the same could be said of him and Jemaine.
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