Date: 2008-10-29 07:20 pm (UTC)
"Over ice cream," Jack repeats, diving into his exchanged glass like a man dying of thirst. The drink is cold, and the rum hits Jack's veins with a flood of heat, and together it's just a very good avoid speaking as his eyes bounce from James at his right to the Doctor on his left.

There's something still not quite right in James' tone, the sarcasm present if buried. Jack's learned how to listen for it, even when usually James is beating people blind over the head with it. He won't call James on it, mostly because it's his loss if he's going to be sour over strange turns of events, and also because it's easier to stay away from the particular pitfall until the rum has kicked in.

Jack reaches behind him to hook the tie on James' robe, a vaguely threatening gesture just in case spontaneous nudity is called for to levitate the mood. He swirls his drink around and gestures for the Doctor to sit on the chair behind him if he so wishes.

"He was in the queue. Strange, the type of people you can meet there. Or not people. Aliens? People?" Jack pulls a thinky face. "Are time lords people? With two hearts?" The questions tumble out quicker than Jack can catch them and stuff them back down his throat.
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Jack Sparrow

November 2008

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