othercaptjack | (no subject)

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Jack's outside, today. He went for a run, most of the morning, and is now sitting by the side of the lake feeling pleased with himself. He'd kind of been afraid he would have gotten out of shape in the past few months, but apparently the Delicate Flowers is an excellent workout.

Now he's vaguely contemplaing swimming, and if anyone will really care that much if he does so in the nude.

He'll probably make a decision in half an hour or so, but for now he's just enjoying the sun.

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"By original I mean things I didn't cause myself. It'd be a bit of a task to work out the maths governing the movements caused by every fish, rock and breeze that touches the lake. So I mostly look for still patches to muck about with, but there's a limited amount of still available."

"Yes," Jack agrees.

"Mind you, if it's a controlled environment you're looking for, I bet some people here could arrange it. ou thought about asking Sam?"

Excellent use for the powers of Lucifer, Jack. Science experiments!

"I could probably just build a mechanised water disturber myself. It wouldn't take much more than some magnets, a motor or two, and a transparent container for the water. But thanks, I'll consider that. Oh, and remind me to ask him about making me a bag that's bigger on the inside, too. This one's getting a bit awkward to carry around." She gestures to the bag she always carries with her, which indeed looks as though it weighs more than she does.

Jack cracks up.

"Have you ever met a man called the Doctor?" he asks. "If you do, ask him about the bag thing. I don't know if he can manage, but he's bound to know about the physics of it."

"No, I never have. What's he look like? Does he come to the bar, and if so, how often? And for that matter, what's with the name? 'Doctor' is a title."

"His name is just the Doctor," Jack says. "I don't know if he even has another. He's about my height, lean build, light brown hair, usually scruffy, good cheekbones. Rambles like a champion. Oh, and he usually dresses in a brown pinstripe suit and sneakers. And maybe a floor length tan coat."

He leaves out 'mind-meltingly hot.' He has a feeling Matilda would be unimpressed.

He is correct in that estimation.

"...Okay, if I ever meet a skinny fluffy man with no name, I will ask him how to make a bag that's bigger on the inside. Provided I don't predict that the question will make him think I'm a nutter."

"Oh, no," Jack says, firmly. "He will definitely not think that. Trust me."

You know, so far as any young girl should trust Jack.

"I shall make a note of it," says Tilda, lifting her eyebrows in a way that clearly demonstrates her dubiety as to just how far that really is.

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