Jack is not scholarly-minded by nature, but sometimes a little theoretical work is unavoidable, especially for those who use a great deal of cyphers and code and have nasty, suspicious and above all twisty minds (like Jack). His notebook is slowly being filled with number combinations, together with bits and pieces of Thirbite algebra
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Sam already knows the answer to that. Unfortunately.
No, the real question now is -- who all got hurt, and how badly?
That's why Sam Winchester's currently sitting in a booth, looking around the room for anyone who might react at seeing him. He's got a Coke instead of a beer, and is being careful to keep both hands in sight.
At the moment, he's watching the guy who's bent over the notebook and who looks a hell of a lot like --
"Cal?"
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"No," he says, directing a smile towards Sam that is almost but not quite the same as Cal's politically trustworthy one. The charm of a confidence trickster, retired or no, is similar but just that little bit different.
"Sorry, I know we look the same. Hi; Captain Jack Harkness."
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"Boy, you're not kidding. He mentioned your name and that you looked alike, but that's some resemblance."
At least it's not like dealing with a shapeshifter. Sam shakes his head, ruefully amused.
"Anyway, hi. Sam Winchester."
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"You're telling me. I got back after a very long absence, and he was one of the first people I ran into. What a welcome back. Good to meet you, Sam."
He reaches out to shake hands.
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