(no subject)
For every story Jack had of adventure, for every tale of charm or daring or mischief, there were a hundred thousand stories that weren't worth telling at all. They were mundane. He never talked about how he could strip and reassemble a gun, or the training it had taken to do such a thing as quickly as possible. He didn't talk about how he could now make jewelry with the same intricate and tedious attention to details as it took to work with circuitry and wiring. And he didn't talk about the millions of time he'd done laundry.
Yes, even a daring and glamorous Time Agent can't just send his clothes out for cleaning.
And so today Jack had yet another tale he'd never tell simply because it was dull. He wasn't fighting robot washers or running naked from hoards of alien dryers. He was just sitting in the laundry room, freshly showered and shaved, reading Carl Sagan's Cosmos and waiting for the timer to buzz so he could start folding the warm clothes and then take some lunch home.
Gone domestic. Something he swore he'd never do. Except, in truth, Jack had always been pretty domestic. He just never let on to the fact that he could take care of simple chores as well as he could run a con or fight a battle. He was a man of many talents.
Yes, even a daring and glamorous Time Agent can't just send his clothes out for cleaning.
And so today Jack had yet another tale he'd never tell simply because it was dull. He wasn't fighting robot washers or running naked from hoards of alien dryers. He was just sitting in the laundry room, freshly showered and shaved, reading Carl Sagan's Cosmos and waiting for the timer to buzz so he could start folding the warm clothes and then take some lunch home.
Gone domestic. Something he swore he'd never do. Except, in truth, Jack had always been pretty domestic. He just never let on to the fact that he could take care of simple chores as well as he could run a con or fight a battle. He was a man of many talents.