A/N: Hey, its me. That author that some of you guys still follow. Now, I may be what you might consider a trash human being because I haven't updated my most popular story in a little under three years, but this is me trying to get back into the swing of writing. I'll be honest, I don't know if I will ever finish that other story because I don't like it and I feel as though there were only three good, thought out chapters. I stretched myself too thin and got burnt out. There was an ending that I had an outline for that story, but I lost that outline and I haven't been able to get backing into the writing mood since. I've since abandoned that story and I am extremely sorry for that. I will happily let someone adopt that story if they so chose, however I would like to keep the same ending I had in mind. If there are any interested parties, do not hesitate to message me. Thank you so much for sticking with me this long. I wholeheartedly appreciate it.

Now, I've dabbled with a oneshot in another account, and while it isn't that popular, it made me happy (as for this story, you can find it under my favorites in my bio. It's about the Great Gatsby). And i think that is important. I like to pour my soul out into a story and get all of my ideas out, rather than trying to continue on with a storyline that I have no idea where it is going. I refuse to leave another storyline unfinished. That's a jerk move.

Thank you, truly for your continued support and enjoy…

(This has been copied and pasted from my other story)

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"So," said the man seated across the bar from the master of death, "do you come here often?"

Piercing green eyes peered over the top of their owners glass, lips pursing for a second, giving way to speech, "Too often, I might reckon. I'm afraid they know my order here."

The other man leaned in, as if he was sharing a secret. Harry was tempted to ask him what his deal is, "And what would that be?"

It was only then that Harry noticed the other man's accent; he was American- something not uncommon and not unwelcome around these parts. It's nice to have change every once and a while. Harry raised his glass, "They call it Firewhiskey- one part whiskey and one half part cinnamon schnapps and a little something extra. It'll get your attention."

The American man raised his eyebrows, "Sounds like my type of drink. I'll have to try one."

Harry found himself nodding half heartedly, taking a sip of his own and relishing in the bite both the liquor and the cinnamon provided, "Yes, perhaps."

Once Harry looked up, he saw the American man was much closer than he started, merely one seat away from him. He could make out little details, such as his eyes being brown and the fact that his cheek probably dimpled when he smiled. Yes, he was attractive, but there was something about him that told Harry that there was more than what met the surface.

As Harry studied the other man, the American started to speak, "So, what do you say, I buy the next round and we can get to know each other."

Despite himself, Harry felt a smirk breaching the corner of his lips. He was immortal, so there was very little that this man could do to him, relatively speaking. Besides, he seemed like he may be fun to talk to. Merlin knows Harry could use a conversational partner.

Allowing the full smile out, Harry nodded, "I don't see why not. So, can I get a name, Mr. American?"

Harry's conversational partner met his smile in full force, as if he were breathing a sigh of relief, his dastardly plan of talking to the green eyed man going off without a hitch. He ordered the drinks and returned to conversation, glasses in hand, "I'm Captain Jack Harkness, and you?"

Not quite sure if Harry wants to give up his real name as that has had bad results in the past, he supplies a false one, "Hadrian Evans, at your service. What are you a captain of?"

'Jack' looked abruptly flustered, "Sorry, you're the first to ask. I'm afraid I'm not captain of anything anymore. It's force of habit still."

The master of death nodded in understanding, "I get that, I used to be something akin to a police chief, but I decided that life wasn't really for me."

"Hmmmmm? What made you decide that?"

Harry scratched the back of his head in thought, "Got too old, I suppose."

Jack leaned back in his chair, clutching his drink in a confused manner, "Too old?! You don't look a day over 20!"

Tapping his fingers on the table, the wizard took a long sip of his drink before stating, "Yes, it might seem that way, huh? I assure you, I'm much older than twenty. Perhaps even older than you, granted you don't really strike me as being the age you seem either."

The other man raised his glass, "To graceful aging, then."

Harry couldn't help but raise his glass in turn, "To graceful aging indeed."

The two men sip from their respective glasses, eyes linking across the way, air zipping with electricity. Glasses clink upon the table, leaving their owners to just take the other person in.

"Listen, Hadrian, I'm normally not this forward, but would you like to maybe do something tonight? I feel like there might be something worth exploring here," said the American, grabbing Harry's hand, seemingly out of habit.

Harry looked back at the man apologetically, "I'm so sorry, I'm actually supposed to meet someone here tonight, and", he gestures across the bar to a much older looking man, "it seems that he is here. Perhaps another time?"

Jack looks back at him, taken aback, "Oh man, I didn't mean to flirt if you are seeing someone else. Sometimes my mouth gets the best of me."

Harry waves his hand at the other man frantically, "No, no, he's just my best mate, this is the first time I've been back to London in years and I figured a visit was in order. Anything to get him away from work and nagging wife for a little bit. Figured he could use the fun."

"Ah, well I suppose that makes sense then. Well, I shouldn't keep you, after all this is your first time back in London for a bit. Besides, I can see my crew looking for me", says the American, gesturing to a rather attractive blonde girl and a tough looking guy in a leather jacket.

"Right."

"Right… so, is there anyway I can contact you?"

Harry looks back at the other man sheepishly, "I'm afraid I don't have my phone on me. Tired of working calling me during my downtime. I also don't have my number memorized."

Jack bites back a sigh, but nevertheless asks, "Do you have a pen on you?"

Harry fumbles around in his pockets, quickly transfiguring a tube of chapstick into a pen with a bit of wandless magic, "Ah, here we are", handing the pen over to the other man.

Jack grabs Harry's hand, "Mind if I…?"

Harry shakes his head, "No, go ahead."

Jack quickly scrawls his number on the other man's hand and in a swift motion downs his drink and is standing, "Well, Hadrian, I look forward to seeing you again."

Harry looks down for a brief second, as if he is embarrassed, but then links eyes with Jack once more, "Likewise."

"Call or text anytime", The 'captain' says with a wink, quickly making his way to the door to meet his companions.

Harry lets out a laugh, "Will do."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Ron sits across from me in a booth, giving me a questioning look.

"What?"

"So who was that?"

"Captain Jack Harkness. He seems interesting." I says, nonplussed.

Ron gives me a scrutinizing eye, "Captain, is he? I'll look him up in our files down at the station."

I let out a chuckle, "Still so protective, eh, Ron?"

"I'm happy if you're happy, so long as you don't end up Malfoy. Doesn't mean I shouldn't be protective. You're still my best mate, Harry."

I settle a glaze upon Ron, "Thank you."

The red head grins, "No problem. Don't forget to ring this one, mate. He seemed really into you."

"I promise.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"So who was that?" Rose asks once they are back in the Tardis, "another one of your conquests?"

"Hadrian Evans," Jack replies, "and, no, I think he might be something more. If he messages me back."

Rose raises her eyebrows and shares a look with the doctor.

"I thought you were normally the one being chased, not the one doing the chasing."

Jack shrugs, "What can I say, he seemed really different. Almost as if we were on the same wavelength."

Rose pats him on the shoulder, "Here's hoping that he calls you back then."

"Here's hopin-"the American started, pausing as he felt a buzz in his pocket. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, smiling at the message he received.

The doctor places his hand on Jack's open shoulder, "Perhaps you don't have to wait."

Jack smiles brims, "Maybe not."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A/N: Well. This is definitely not what I thought I would be posting first. But alas, word vomit is word vomit. WOOOOHOOOOO. Thank you so much for reading, I appreciate you guys soooooo much you don't even know. Anyways, until next time.

-Memorykey3