Jack needs stitches. And that's just the start. It's not that Jack hates Owen, it's just that it's fun to boss the doctor around. Especially when he whines and complains like a child. Jack wastes no time slipping through the grating and below the console, reaching up for Ianto to hand him the torch. He clicks it on easily enough. "If I don't
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"Afraid you might come back as a member of the undead, sir?" Yes, that was a not so subtle jab at Owen. "Regardless, I will keep your wishes in mind should something happen." It's not going to though, because he'll probably kill you if you die.
He waits a moment before turning the bulk of his attention to the monitor and Rift logs from the last day or so. Thorough, would be an understatement when it comes to the Welshman's attention to detail, every little blip is scrutinized and cross checked with other activity and anomalies in the city.
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But hey, it was two against one here. Never piss off the bosses fling in front of the boss.
"Right, you down there?"
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"Ten minutes" He starts his stopwatch, any excuse. "Of course, sir. I always play nice."
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