Orgy, Anyone?

“Vortex Manipulators. Cheap and nasty time travel. Gives me terrible heartburn.” The Master eyed the device again. “Might be our only way out though, I have…displaced my ship.” The Hostile Displacement System had activated shortly after arriving in this war zone and it had yet to rematerialize. What was supposed to be a quick loot for weapons technology was becoming more and more of a hassle. 

“Well, I don’t look like hospital staff because I am not hospital staff, luv.” John said with a smirk, leaning against the doorframe with his hands clasped in front of him.

In a strange way, it felt more sincere an apology than anything else John had ever said.  He didn’t know if he wanted to hug John or kill him. Or a combination of the two.  

“John. Look at me. Look me in the eyes.  You look, and you tell me. Tell me the one thing you never, ever said.  Look in my eyes and tell me if you miss her.”

John looked down at the table between them, eyes fixed on the grain of the wood as intently as if it was the next throat he was wanting to slit. Could he do it? Could he say he missed a child he barely knew, that he himself condemned to death? How could he?

But the truth... the truth was...

“A cuppa?” Jack arched an eyebrow. Ever since the whole fiasco of John’s last appearance, where so much could have been avoided had Jack noticed things were off, Jack’s suspicions were a bit heightened. He was pretty sure this wasn’t some kind of trap, but there was still a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Alright, where do you want to meet? Pretty sure we’re still banned from Tiger Tiger though.”

He didn’t want to admit it just yet, but he was more than a little excited to see him again. 

“Well, quite all right, wouldn’t want to cause a scene there again anyways.” John said, passing off a cliche shrug. Really, he didn’t want to go to avoid the temptations. But he didn’t want to tell that to Jack, not over the phone. Better conversation had in person.

He poured the brandy and held his own glass, looking into the liquid. From a time when he had loved John more than he could ever imagine loving anything or anyone.  Except their… He reached into his shirt and pulled out a necklace.  His dog tags from the war he fought for his planet when he was a teen.  His locket with the only remaining picture of Asha, the only of his children he’d carried himself.  And the ring.  The ring that John had once thrown in his grave. The ring he’d given John when they were together so very long ago.  

He sipped his brandy.  

For a few long beats, John simply stared at the glass of brandy. The sight, the smell, even the sound of it tickled his senses and brought back that flood of memories he’d tucked safely away. Safely away so that he didn’t have to feel the shame and guilt. The pain and regret.

But as soon as Jack pulled out his tags, and then that locket and that ring, it was like a vice had gripped around John’s heart. The ring that was a promise, a promise John broke a hundred times or more and Jack always forgave.

And the locket...

Maybe he was feeling his age. Maybe he was looking back at his life and all the times he could have, should have been a better man. But before he reached for his brandy, he reached out for that locket, brushing it with his fingertips almost reverently. The daughter he never could have been the proper father for...

And with one quick, swift movement, his fingers slid off the locket and slipped along the table until they reached his glass, gripped it tightly, and he knocked the brandy back in one gulp. Only Jack might know, might see he did so to hide the tears and shame in his eyes.

@didimentionimarmed

It was a dive bar on a station that was, essentially, one big dive bar. Absolute bottom wrung.  But the liquear was strong and cheap, and the Invictus knew his quarry was here.  Little did he, himself, know it.  Once, a long time ago, he had heard a friend make a promise.  That friend was now…. different, not dead, but no longer himself.  Thus, it was up to the Invictus to keep the promise.

He slid in the seat beside ‘Captain’ John Hart.  His eyes were golden, but not the shining vortex.  Just gold.  He was wearing a brown pin stripe suit and beige converse.  “I hear you’re a man that likes to go on adventures.” He put down enough credit chits to buy the bar.  Probably also the amount of John’s current bar tab.  “And that you have a taste for the finer things in life.”

“Oh yeah?” A brow raised as John slowly eyed the stranger sitting next to him, a small smirk on his lips. At first, he was going to give no mind to the man sliding up beside him. He was used to the bar crowd, used to the stranger sitting beside him, used to the flirtation or anger that usually followed.