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White Night

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One of Jack's rare nights off, with the Rift quiet for a change and Ianto out of town staying with his extended family for some days, and Jack had headed for a waterfront pub, a slightly more posh place than his usual hangout. He sat perched on a barstool, watching the crowd that circulated through the place, meeting the gazes of mild disapproval and bemusement that came his way with his friendliest and most flirtatious grin.

Till he realized that someone else eyed him from a table at a booth in the shadows across the room, their gaze drilling into his back. Taking up his drink, he got up and approached it, finding it occupied by a lone man in a white suit, pale-faced and silver-haired, one eye peering through the dense fringe that hung over his alabaster brow. Something about the guy made Jack think of those Weeping Angels he had heard about and which other people employed by Torchwood or the Time Agency had reported seeing: pale, immortal figures which fed off a person's fear and sent them hurtling backward or forward in time. But this guy was clearly made of flesh and blood, not stone.

"If you keep drilling holes in the back of my coat with that gimlet gaze of yours, I'm gonna have some explaining to do with my tailor," Jack said, lightly chiding.

The pale stranger chuckled deep in his slim throat, pleased, amused, but Jack sensed something tigerish in the man;s response. "If it came to that, I might prevail upon my own to be of service," the pale stranger replied, in perfect English, with the clipped consonants of a Tokyo accent. "I couldn't help noticing you sitting at the bar, and I was formulating the proper approach."

"Any approach that leads me to your side would be a proper approach, if you don't mind me saying it," Jack replied, with a grin.

"A good-looking man with classic tastes, who speaks his mind," the pale man replied, gesturing to the seat beside him in the booth. "Come, sit with me: I'm in the city for a medical conference and I'm in need of companionship."

"None of your scientific associates interested in keeping you company? That's a shame," Jack said, obliging the stranger.

"I'm rather a lone wolf, since I've focused my studies on some... rather unorthodox, if not unearthly beings, which some of my fellow scientists find a preposterous subject," the other replied. "But I'd rather not speak of such things: I wouldn't want to bore you with a lot of scientific jargon."

"The jargon might be above my pay grade, but I've seen a few things that a lot of people would find unreal," Jack replied.

The pale man lifted an eyebrow. "Ah, dare I ask, if you are ...a hunter of such things?" he asked, gathering his body like a cat alerted to the presence of an intrusive dog.

The reaction confirmed Jack's inklings. "Only the ones that are gnawing on people. If they ain't bothering anyone, I don't bother them," Jack replied.

The pale man relaxed. "I see. Then I needn't be concerned about having a conversation with you... and perhaps, if you wish, a more intimate encounter."

"Could use some company for the night, as long as you don't turn into a bat and fly away before the sunrise," Jack replied.

"You have sharp eyes," the pale man noted, with a smirk. "No, I won't be doing that: the most I might do, come sunrise, is apply a layer of sunblock to ward off a sunburn, but that wouldn't be likely here."

"Good place for creatures who don't care much for sunlight: Bram chose well, when he set the bulk of Dracula in England," Jack replied. "I told him as much, though I also told him, he should've set it in Cardiff, instead of Whitby. Rains here more."

The pale man raised his eyebrow again, his lips parting slightly in surprise. "You speak as if you might be not entirely of this earth yourself."

"Nah, I'm plain vanilla human, far as I can tell. I've just been around for a while longer than most," Jack replied.

"Well, since we both seem to have time on our hands, shall we spend some of that alone?" the pale man replied, signaling to a passing waiter for his check.. "My hotel room is not far from here."

"Lead the way," Jack said, finishing his drink. He had a feeling he was going to need it and possibly more before the night was through.

Once they were alone in the pale man's room, Jack's companion for the night pushed him, back first, against the closed door.

"Whoa, you don't hesitate, do you, big fella?" Jack said, feeling a slight tremor run down his back. Likely prompted by the look of utter hunger that showed in the pale man's eyes. Pale eyes with the long, narrow pupils of a tiger's eyes. Or a reptile's eyes.

The pale man smirked. "There's no point in hesitating when one is ravenous, and if you're as clever as you claim, you likely have an idea of what I need from you."

"Don't tell me you're going to drink my blood," Jack replied, trying to sound apprehensive, but sounding more aroused.

The pale man chuckled. "Nothing so commonplace," he said. Then he leaned in and nuzzled the side of Jack's head. "But I do need your spirit energy."

Another lifeforce feeder, and at least this thing was only six inches taller than he, instead of fifty feet. "You chose the right guy for supper: I got plenty."

"And in a fine package, as well," the pale man said, silencing Jack with a kiss crushed against his mouth....