Jenny was also investigating. Had nothing to do with Torchwood so much as her insatiable curiosity.
Also she wanted to find her ship. She was sure it was around somewhere, and if she was going to get off wherever she was (what was a Bowie, and why did it have a base?), she was going to need it.
Then there was the matter of walking into a different place entirely. In a flash, she'd gone from somewhere shiny and new to somewhere terribly old and dusty.
And that was when Jenny discovered that her nose didn't much like dust.
Shortly thereafter, she discovered the sneeze.
And immediately after the sneeze, she notice a man at the other end of the hall.
Jack had been trying to keep out of the way of anything that might constitute adventure. He didn't need or want it.
He didn't need or want to be here, wherever it was that here happened to be.
And so he wasn't the best of moods to have woken up and found himself on some sort of empty base wherever the hell it was.
He opened up the strap on his wrist. It might not work for everything, but it would work for something and it might at least provide a little information.
About to look though, he was stopped. Stopped by an --in his opinion-- rather shrill sort of voice. He turned his head towards it's origin to see a girl looking far too excited for no considerable reason.
"Hi..." he said, lifting one eyebrow. "Bowie?" he frowned and neglected to answer. "Care to tell me where the hell I am?"
"Bowie Base One," Jenny answered right back, pointing towards the middle of the hallway at an etched plaque. "I thought maybe you were Bowie, because there's no one else where. So are you Bowie?"
Jenny gave the man's wrist a good once over. He certainly seemed interested in it, so she was, too. She wondered what was on the leather strap. It seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn't quite place it.
"Bowie Base One?" Jack echoed back incredulously. Sure, he'd heard that name before. Of course he'd heard it. Everyone past the tail end of the 21st century had heard it!
He looked over at the plaque, stalking over to look at it and back to her. "This has got to be some sort of joke, right?" he asked, saying the words but not really expecting a positive response. He looked again at his wrist strap, it didn't make sense, as though it was confused. Stupid broken technology.
"No, I'm not Bowie," he said belatedly, an air of frustration. "And who are you anyway, the welcoming committee?"
Jack Harkness might have been trying to hide himself; might have been trying to stay away from drama and adventure, but when it came to it he was still Jack Harkness, and so when it appeared danger might be at hand there would soon be a gun in his. Held out and levelled ahead of him.
He kept it that way as he moved around the corridors of the abandoned base.
The building was deathly quiet, and it looked as though it ought to be busy, as though it was built to be busy. It felt wrong and so it put him on edge. But in his experience, there was always something to find, and so he would continue to look until he found it.
He turned a corner, and he found it. A woman, looking around and maybe she was like him or maybe she was something worse.
He pointed the gun in her direction.
"Put your hands in the air and turn around slowly."
There was no movement, no signs of any kind other than her own. The sounds of her own footsteps seemed to carry forever. And there was the nagging, gnawing thought that she knew this place.
Or at they very least that she should.
But so far River had not found anything conclusive to that point.
River was so focused on a particular electrical panel and trying to date the components that comprised it that she missed the footsteps coming up behind her. Her shoulders remained loose beneath her sleep tank as the sound of voice, sharp and male washed over them.
She reached into her pack, fingers closing over the familiar feel of her own weapon as she turned to greet it. Her smile was wide and unfazed, run raised at the stranger.
The woman seemed unfazed by the fact she had a gun pointed at her. Jack didn't like that. Nor did he like that he had a gun pointed at him in return.
His eyes scanned her a little, standing there with a smile and a confident stance. He looked to the gun in her hand.
The gun in her hand that he knew.
She seemed to be holding a squareness gun. One exactly like the model he himself had owned. A gun he'd owned and left on the TARDIS back in another life. Made in the factories of Villengard before they were closed down and replaced by banana groves.
"Bit early in the morning to be so feisty, don't you think?" he asked, an eyebrow raised in her direction and gun still pointed.
Comments 48
Also she wanted to find her ship. She was sure it was around somewhere, and if she was going to get off wherever she was (what was a Bowie, and why did it have a base?), she was going to need it.
Then there was the matter of walking into a different place entirely. In a flash, she'd gone from somewhere shiny and new to somewhere terribly old and dusty.
And that was when Jenny discovered that her nose didn't much like dust.
Shortly thereafter, she discovered the sneeze.
And immediately after the sneeze, she notice a man at the other end of the hall.
"Heloo? Are you Bowie?"
Reply
He didn't need or want to be here, wherever it was that here happened to be.
And so he wasn't the best of moods to have woken up and found himself on some sort of empty base wherever the hell it was.
He opened up the strap on his wrist. It might not work for everything, but it would work for something and it might at least provide a little information.
About to look though, he was stopped. Stopped by an --in his opinion-- rather shrill sort of voice. He turned his head towards it's origin to see a girl looking far too excited for no considerable reason.
"Hi..." he said, lifting one eyebrow. "Bowie?" he frowned and neglected to answer. "Care to tell me where the hell I am?"
Reply
Jenny gave the man's wrist a good once over. He certainly seemed interested in it, so she was, too. She wondered what was on the leather strap. It seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn't quite place it.
Ah well.
"And is this your base?"
Reply
He looked over at the plaque, stalking over to look at it and back to her. "This has got to be some sort of joke, right?" he asked, saying the words but not really expecting a positive response. He looked again at his wrist strap, it didn't make sense, as though it was confused. Stupid broken technology.
"No, I'm not Bowie," he said belatedly, an air of frustration. "And who are you anyway, the welcoming committee?"
Reply
Reply
He kept it that way as he moved around the corridors of the abandoned base.
The building was deathly quiet, and it looked as though it ought to be busy, as though it was built to be busy. It felt wrong and so it put him on edge. But in his experience, there was always something to find, and so he would continue to look until he found it.
He turned a corner, and he found it. A woman, looking around and maybe she was like him or maybe she was something worse.
He pointed the gun in her direction.
"Put your hands in the air and turn around slowly."
Reply
There was no movement, no signs of any kind other than her own. The sounds of her own footsteps seemed to carry forever. And there was the nagging, gnawing thought that she knew this place.
Or at they very least that she should.
But so far River had not found anything conclusive to that point.
River was so focused on a particular electrical panel and trying to date the components that comprised it that she missed the footsteps coming up behind her. Her shoulders remained loose beneath her sleep tank as the sound of voice, sharp and male washed over them.
She reached into her pack, fingers closing over the familiar feel of her own weapon as she turned to greet it. Her smile was wide and unfazed, run raised at the stranger.
"Now why would I want to do that?"
Reply
His eyes scanned her a little, standing there with a smile and a confident stance. He looked to the gun in her hand.
The gun in her hand that he knew.
She seemed to be holding a squareness gun. One exactly like the model he himself had owned. A gun he'd owned and left on the TARDIS back in another life. Made in the factories of Villengard before they were closed down and replaced by banana groves.
"Bit early in the morning to be so feisty, don't you think?" he asked, an eyebrow raised in her direction and gun still pointed.
"We in the same boat here?"
Reply
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