Jack materialized in the cargo bay of the Cold Fusion Cruiser he had hitchhiked his way onto. He looked blandly around the battered hold carefully taking in potential hiding places and escape routes but he did so with none of his previous swashbuckling excitement. He felt as if his limbs had all been weighted down and it took extreme physical and mental strength to take every step.

He trailed his fingers across the cold metal of the passage way pressing them harder and harder against the wall in an attempt to feel the slightest bump and crevice. His hand caught on a rusty piece jutting out halfway down the narrow corridor and the nerves that registered that he had sliced open the palm of his hand must have alerted the pain center of the brain, but his deadened mind chose not to respond. He felt nothing as blood dripped down the endless life line on his hand and he still felt nothing as his hand stitched itself back together.

A pipe ahead of him let out a nasty screech and with it a gigantic puff of auxiliary smoke. A shadowy form appeared in the midst of the billowing gas. Jack stopped where he was and shook the wet drops of blood onto the ground idly as he waiting for the figure to approach. He casually buffered his fingernails on his great coat and then examined them for dirt; noting that all that remained from the injury to his hand was a faint smudge of blood.

"Welcome aboard The Peregrine," A male voice called out as its owner approached, "My name is Boris Kevorkian. I'm second in command here on The Peregrine."

"Captain Jack Harkness," Jack replied simply because he couldn't be bothered to create a new identity yet. It was convenient to keep the name, since outside of Earth nobody knew it and he was used to responding to it, and so he did.

"Alright then Captain Jack: Follow me up to the bridge My Captain wishes a word with you," Boris told him and gestured back the way he came. Jack nodded his assent and followed Boris up a tightly wound staircase and down hallways full of pipes and wires. They stopped at a hyper-enforced iron door and Boris punched in a code on the bright green panel next to the door.

The pair emerged in an almost empty room. Empty except for an ordinary looking girl with curly brown hair separated into pigtails. Her baggy trousers were held up by suspenders not unlike Jack's own and she had black oil spread across her face and simple white shirt along with various other stains. She looked up curiously and said cheerfully: "We've had a lot of stowaways but never one so handsome."

"His name's Jack Harkness, Captain." Boris stated formally. Jack at first assumed that Boris was stating his title of Captain but when he turned and saw Boris standing at attention it became clear.

"Thank you Boris," The woman replied, "So tell me Jack Harkness –"

"Captain," Jack inserted out of habit.

She paused and her lip quirked up, "No need for formalities Jack."

Jack smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. Boris took a seat next to the woman and stage whispered: "I think he meant he's a Captain, Captain."

"Oh, really?" The lady asked in mock surprise, "Oh well in that case I will point out that the position of Captain on this ship is filled, by me, so as long as you are aboard my ship you will be just Jack Harkness. You will refer only to me as Captain and if you piss me off then you will be just Jack."

Jack nodded his head in silent agreement and upon doing so he saw Boris laughing out of the corner of his eye. The Captain glared half-heartedly at Boris and let out a deep sigh: "I was trying to be intimidating. I guess that gasket's been blown. So tell me Jack, how does a 21st century human get a hold of a vortex manipulator?"

"I'm from the 51st century. Had an incident with a doctor awhile back and got stranded there." Jack replied blandly but, oddly enough, truthfully, "I latched onto your ship in order to escape from that planet. It's far too small. I only ask for transport to whatever port you're traveling to."

"Nobody travels for free," The Captain said dryly, "You'll have to earn your keep. Are you familiar with the Cold Fusion Cruiser A42-series?"

"I'm comfortable enough with one." Jack replied.

"Well, I don't want you tinkering around with my ship so you're on janitorial duty. We serve three meals a day: a bell signals their arrival. Just follow the mass of people. Are you hungry now?" Jack declined her offer of food and so she ordered: "Boris if you'll please take him to one of the bunkers on the east side of the ship. That will be all."

"Yes Captain." Boris stood and saluted. Jack followed Boris glumly down the halls staying silent until Boris looked over and said, "You're a quiet fellah aint ya?"

Jack's mind flashed briefly on a story about an android with two cocks that he met flying around the Medusa cascade during his time as a time agent where he was definitely not a quiet fellah, but a stab of guilt hit him and the story, like so many others that had come to mind these past six months, went untold.

Boris seemed to get the hint, as he didn't try to start a conversation with Jack and simply opened the door for Jack and then walked away. Jack hung his coat on the hook by the door. Smoothing it out, remembering Ianto's voice scolding fondly: "Everything has its place. A coat when not on your back belongs on a coat rack. Otherwise it will wrinkle and you can't save the world in a wrinkled coat."

Jack pulled out a thin silky sliver of material from one of the deep pockets of his trousers before going to sit on the padded cot. He let the tie run through his fingers before wrapping it tightly around his neck and tugging. He closed his eyes and died.

Jack came gasping back to life. He unwound Ianto's tie from his neck and kissed it fondly. He buried his nose in the silk and inhaled a deep breath. Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes as he realized his own smell had overpowered that which was once Ianto's. He knew not how long he stood there, clutching this tiny slip of material, with his breath coming out in deep ragged gasps. The breakfast bell rang and Jack slid the scrap of fabric back into his pocket with a heavy breath.

He joined the throng of people headed towards the mess hall. Ha had been aboard The Peregrine for a fortnight and had quickly fallen into a routine, but today they would be landing on Vega which meant that it is time for him to move on. A new port and a new adventure: hopefully one that would help to ease the guilt, but not make him forget. He would never forget: he had promised.

Jack took a seat at the long table and was handed a plate of what looked like alien meat, but not the fun kind. It was a purplish tough rubbery meat which oozed green drops and he had become used to it throughout his stay despite its hearty after taste. He was chewing the meat carefully, to do otherwise was to risk biting into a pocket of the azure fluid and having it fill your mouth with bitter liquid, when a small leather purse was dropped down next to his knife.

"Your wages," Boris said in the gruff voice he reserved for Jack, "Minus room and board."

"Thank you," Jack replied politely. He took his time finishing the meal and had just taking his last bite when the motion of the ship docking jarred his plate a bit. Then Jack stood, swooped the bag into one of the endless pockets of his coat, and made his way planet-side.

The first thing that Jack did was ask a nearby partially corporeal life form for directions to the closest pub. It turned out to be a seedy place called Klomm, named for a planet that recently acquired fame for having been so useless that it wasn't until it got caught in the Dalek scheme to align the planets into a transmitter that someone realized it had been left out of The Great Encyclopedia of Everything in the Universe (currently housed in the "The Library").

Jack slid onto a barstool and ordered hyperspace vodka from a biped bartender with eight and a half tentacles. He lifted his glass to his mouth, fully intending to drown his sorrows in the most potent drink in the galaxy, when he heard the voice of the last person in the universe he wanted to hear at that moment.

"Well, well, well: I knew you'd come for me," The drawling voice of Captain John Hart sounded from beside him.

One corner of Jack's mouth twitched up against his will: "Go away John."

John clicked his tongue: "Oh no, seems like something has gotten your panties in a bunch. Where'd you put eye-candy? I'm sure he'll help you straighten them out."

Jack downed the rest of his vodka, "One more barkeep."

John frowned and signaled for the bartender to fix him one as well, "Jack, did something happen?"

The two drinks that the octopus armed humanoid delivered both disappeared down Jack's throat in quick succession. John started to protest the sudden acquisition of his drink, but changed his mind at the look on Jack's face and ordered a few more drinks. Jack took a sip of his new drink and whispered, "I killed them: all of them. It was my fault. It is always my fault."

John cracked a smile, "You know what I always say: the odd kill: Who does it hurt?"

Jack ignored him and took another gulp, the alcohol burning pleasantly as it slid down his esophagus and gathered pleasantly in a warm pool in his stomach. He continued after a long pause with his voice tortured and cracking: "He loved me and he followed me in there and he thought I had a plan, he trusted me to have a plan, but I didn't and he died."

"Eye candy's dead?" John asked: a single perfectly trimmed eyebrow rose in surprise.

Jack replied by ordering another drink. They sat there in silence until the pub had almost emptied of life forms. By this point Jack had swallowed twice his weight in alcohol, used up half of his wages, and died twice from alcohol poisoning. Also by this point, John's patience had entirely vanished. He spoke up in a lazy drawl, "Bored now."

Jack laughed, but it didn't reach his eyes, "I'm terribly sorry that my grief isn't entertaining enough for you."

"What I don't understand is: something made you this way, yeah? So why don't you just recreate it. Bring eye candy back to life."

Jack froze and stuttered: "The power that brought me back can't be controlled. It nearly killed…"

"My point exactly," John smirked.

"I could get him back." The revelation made Jack's heart stop for a moment. For an instant he had hope and then: "but what if he doesn't want to live forever with me?"

"I saw the look in his eyes Jack and as much as I loathe to admit it: Eye candy would travel through eight different hell dimensions and back if it meant getting to spend eternity with you."

Jack smiled, a genuine smile that stretched muscles that hadn't been in use for months and made his cheeks hurt, and said: "You know what. I think you're right. Who wouldn't want to spend eternity with me? It's the jaw line you know: once seen…"

John laughed: "So what does this mean?"

Jack leapt to his feet and grabbed his coat off the stool next to him. He grinned wildly and answered: "It means I've got to find a certain Doctor."