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[Hello, Siren's Port! Have a Jack Harkness showing up on your NV. He is currently sprawled on the couch in the apartment he's been sharing with Rose and the Tenth Doctor.]

Right. Been here a few months now, figure it's a good time to find a proper job. I've already gathered that no job I have here will be anything like mine at home, but I'll take what I can get. So. [Cue the charming smile.]

Served in the RAF, good with a gun, excellent people skills. What've you got for me, Siren's Port?

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You'd really want to push pencils? Follow someone else's agenda? Put on a tie and coat, tuck a flower under your lapel and say 'yes sir', 'no ma'am'? Really? [Is the Doctor work-biased? ... A-yup. He totally is] I'd rather spend the day running around and popping in on people. Not working.

Pushing pencils? [A snort.] Don't think I could see myself in an office, handsome, but it is a very tempting thought. All those suits and tight skirts.

[AGH! Goddamnit Jack lasdfjlafj]

Oi! Watch it! Always forget about that mind of yours.

[Pretty much because ever since you mentioned Face of Boe to him he's been overlaying an image of that giant, tentacle-y head over your human face, Jacky boy.

He's actually pretty glad you didn't flirt with him in your old age]

What? Offices are exotic. Proper ones are, anyway.

[Oh pfff you know the Doctor got stupid trolly gifts from the Face of Boe. Secretly.]

Oh don't start! [LAFJASLFKJASLFJ] There's nothing in an office except pencils and papers and paperclips and and books and those little tiny figurines people balance on top of their monitors... and the potted plants!

How is any of that exotic?

[Wait. No. No. Don't answer. Oh God don't answer.]

There are also copy machines and computers. Think of all the fun you could have with a copy machine.

--Ooh, and an executive desk. [He's just smirking, now.] Don't have it in the Hub, it's exotic to me.

[A beat.] This is probably why Ianto got rid of the copy machine.

[.... He's going to regret this later. He is so going to regret this.

But curiosity kills the cat. And the Doctor]

... Why? Why the copy machine? What did you do to it?

[A beat. Then, smugly:]

You really don't want to know.

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