Jack, sprawled across a rather Victorian looking four-poster bed in a room similarly oriented to the one he used to sleep in during his past-but-not-yet-happened travels in a future TARDIS, wakes with uncomfortable grogginess pulling at the edges of his thoughts. He can't quite remember where he is, but the musty ancient library smell, old books and tea and something a little bit artron-y, gives him a clue. It doesn't mesh with the last clear thing he remembers - hadn't he wandered off to some dystopian Vatican to battle vampires with Soma and Phoenix and Otto? because of that vampire fog that had effected Ears and Horatio? - and he takes a minute to come to grips with it.
Then ... he rolls out of bed, grimaces at the leather trousers and jacket he's still wearing from the aforementioned (mis)adventure, and sways on his feet towards the door. It isn't a life-again-after-dying feeling, but the Captain does feel terribly ill-at-ease for some reason. After fumbling the door open, he leans half out into the hall and looks it up and down. Voices? From that way. He'll definitely go that way, then.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2007-08-27 11:22 pm (UTC)Then ... he rolls out of bed, grimaces at the leather trousers and jacket he's still wearing from the aforementioned (mis)adventure, and sways on his feet towards the door. It isn't a life-again-after-dying feeling, but the Captain does feel terribly ill-at-ease for some reason. After fumbling the door open, he leans half out into the hall and looks it up and down. Voices? From that way. He'll definitely go that way, then.