thoughtformed | (no subject)

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WHO: Jack Harkness and Marian Hawke
WHAT: Meeting for drinks
WHEN: Friday night
WHERE: The Nancing Phony

Jack was excited to meet this new person he'd found over the Network. She was spunky and seemed to definitely have his sense of humour, which was a nice change of pace. It wasn't often that Jack found someone who could fire back and keep up with him, and he was very much looking forward to meeting her in person. He'd already found himself a seat at the bar and ordered himself a scotch, keeping a cautious eye out for his guest. With any luck, this night could end very, very well for him.

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Much as he watched her, she found herself taking continual stock of him. Nothing hit her warning bells so far. Granted, her warning bells could use a few tune-ups and possibly a recasting, but she'd had far worse two-second conversations in the process of leaving the white behemoth that passed for a welcoming building.

The trolls sounded more like Qunari youth than anything else, with the grand exception of not sounding like anything following any concept of the Gun in any way, shape, or recognizable form (to Hawke). "Funny, I think I met a few of that sort back in Kirkwall."

Gamlen had to count as a predecessor to something other than his daughter, right?

Lowering the glass from her mouth, she ran her tongue over her lips, considering. Marian's smile was still in place, small and partly amused at circumstance, a buffer between the last few hours and the unrest churning at the back of her mind. "Warm." She shifted, leaning forward just a bit as she set her near-empty glass on the bar with a muffled clink. Her own voice lowered, thoughts partly elsewhere. "Very warm."

An escape from the shifted, new reality would be welcome for a bit. It was looking more and more like the good old fashioned walk and ingratiate with the locals was going to serve her well. A refugee population from their own respective realities -- or fictions. The concepts weren't all that far removed from each other, for all the one tended to better dress the other up for general consumption.

"Remarkably confused on... a few points here and there, but they'll get sorted. It's supposed to be what I'm good at." A flash of something like humor in her eyes. Hopefully it wasn't the only thing.

Jack gave her somewhat of a knowing grin and set his own glass down, and innocuously placed his hand over hers. His own thoughts had been wandering into that 'warm' category as well and wondering how nice it would be to be even moreso.

"I'm sure you're good at lots of things, Marian," Jack said softly, "and I'm sure that you'll be able to pick up on things easily. You're pretty clever. But if you'd like, you can ask me anything you've got questions about and I'll try my best to answer or point you in the right direction." He gingerly removed his hand, letting his fingertips linger over the top of her hand. "We could stay here and slowly forget our reason and reservations in the bottom of a glass, or we can just skip all that and continue this conversation somewhere a little more..." Jack dropped his voice down to a whisper, "Private."

Marian reviewed her options. She could spend part of the evening wandering around in the increasingly vain hope that there was at least one person stupid enough to try and jump a seemingly innocuous, single female wandering on her own so that she might work out some very particular series of frustrations in a happy, constructive, albeit often bloody fashion.

She could go back to her apartment and proceed to poke around at everything new to her, which quite probably fell into a category of "near everything" while taking stock of exits, entrances, vantage points, and then considering a review of what she's heard as far as the situation of this place.

She could go impose herself on Fenris, since she had a feeling seeing Anders right now might end with her punching him in the face for no exactly coherent reason, which also probably meant it wouldn't happen, but having just come face to face with the magnitude of what he'd done and deciding to not kill him left her rather sour on being anything close to affable with him right now. Thus, impose herself on Fenris, get a better read on how he was doing after time spent here, and then un-impose herself sometime thereafter in the sense of fairness.

Which sounded less like a sounding board she wanted to use, and more like something she needed to figure out before she got to that point.

Jack was offering her another option, far more along positive release lines than the almost equally attractive idea of trolling New Moore for a fight. (She had a feeling that might also be slightly problematic, without fully understanding how the law ruled here.)

Within the scant seconds these thoughts passed through her mind, she smiled, "That sounds like an invitation." One which interested her, if the amusement never really left her voice. "I might just have to take you up on your offer. Both of them," she adds, close to musing, "If possibly not at the same time."

At Marian's response, Jack nodded slowly, quickly taking inventory in his mind over what they had at the flat that could lead to an exciting evening in. After all, Marian was new, and she certainly deserved having the best time possible shown to her. And Jack was always up to the challenge. "It sounds like an invitation, because it is an invitation," he said. "We've got some drinks back at my place that we can share. And it's warm and there's of course plenty of room in the bed if you find that you've had too much and can't make it home." He smiled at her and reached for his wallet to pull out some money to cover the tab.

"We can have drinks, and just.. continue enjoying one another's company. I'd love to hear more about where you came from and answer any questions you have about this place."

The entirely irrational urge to see this bed just so she could make a pointless comparison to her bed (forever forsaken, she had the feeling, even if New Moore weren't its own sort of obstacle) back in the mansion. Ancestral mansion. Aah, those Amells.

"Beats the awkward drunken stumble home that usually ends up with you finding you've lost your pants in the morning." She paused. "And your money. It's always been the pants I've missed most. Finding good ones is harder than you think."

"And someone to share your hangover with." Jack laughed and put his wallet away. He got off his stool and held out a hand to help her down off of her own, "but that's why we invented coffee. Can't say it'll do much for finding your pants, though." Jack shot Marian a wink and started toward the door.

"So tell me more about the world you came from. A pretty lady doesn't get to wearing so much armor in a safe place. Do you travel a lot?" It was nice to be able to see her outfit more in full now that they were walking, and he had to marvel at the craftsmanship. He would have loved to have a tailor make him something out of all of that. It would have done well back in the 40's.

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