An Old Fence Post at the edge of town
Jack's mood tended to vacillate from one extreme to the other over the holidays and though Ianto gave no indication that this bothered him one way or the other, Jack had decided to give the young man a break and take himself off to be moody in private
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Really, this would be a lot easier if his damned bike engine was working.
The sound of gunfire drew him, though, as such things tend to do, and he stood waiting and watching for a while, the hint of an inquisitive expression on his face.
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He chose a chair and eased himself down into it, steepling his fingers once he was comfortably settled. "With digs like these, if you don't mind my asking, how come you always used 42 Blueberry for your, uh, recreational activities with Marie? I mean, the atmosphere here . . . very mood-setting."
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"Thank you," he started in response to the compliment as for the rest, he flicked a glance towards a door that lead to the kitchen where Ianto was currently fixing the drinks -and fixing the drinks- and then turned back to Anders ( ... )
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He picked up the beer and glanced at the label, eyes widening in impressed surprise . . . which didn't give him any reason to hesitate about pouring it into the glass with the kind of practiced ease that yielded the perfect head not dirty this time. As he set the bottle and glass back down on the table, he added, "And again I say, nice. But we didn't come out here to talk about our love lives, did we?"
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Smiling, he picked up his own glass of water and took a sip.
"Why not? It's definitely an enticing subject."
Jack might have been stalling, just a wee bit until he saw Anders take those first few sips.
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Of course, not being the sort of beer drinker who paid attention to the subtleties of flavor, if there was anything amiss about his drink he certainly didn't notice.
He turned the glass in his hands slowly. "Not that I have a problem with talking about the subject, but it's a pretty big logical leap from . . ." He blinked. "From . . . hazing rituals."
There was something more about those hazing rituals, but damn, that was some good beer, because he was too distracted to remember what that something was.
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Jack watched Anders closely, the edge of the water glass pressed against his lips as he watched the man work his way through the beer.
"Yes, hazing rituals," he said softly. "You had some questions about those?"
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"I mean . . . I did? Think I'd remember if I saw something going on that was weird enough . . . hazing rituals, 's perfectly normal."
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Sharp blue eyes never left Anders' face as Jack watched the combined drugs start to take effect.
"Frat boys can be pretty intense with their rituals you know," Jack suggested. "Down here, so close to New Orleans, I'm sure they get some pretty fanciful ideas of costumes. Bayou monsters from legends and all that."
As he wove the story that he hoped would cement itself in Anders' adjusted memories, Jack's voice lowered and softened, encouraging the other man along with the idea that maybe a little nap wouldn't be such a bad thing.
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At some point while Anders was asleep, Jack moved him from the chair over to the large leather couch where Aziraphale had napped that one day. He didn't even grope inappropriately when he did so!
The retcon only needed a couple of hours to work and so, despite the speed with which the sedative had hit Anders, it also wore off fairly quickly, relatively speaking so it was only starting to get dark by the time it might have worked it's way through his system.
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No, he hadn't yet completely processed his surroundings . . .
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"Are you awake then?" He called over in a cheerful voice, pushing back the chair and walking around the desk towards the sofa.
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"I was afraid I'd bored you," he said ruefully, holding out the glass and smiling in a friendly manner.
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Silly boy, but he was bizarrely thirsty.
He rubbed at the back of his neck. "It's just been a really long past couple of days."
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