Another song of 'In The Mood' and I'll be done, Jane thought to herself as she sang to the upbeat music from the clarinet, played by her best friend, Annie. She could hear the whistles and loud explosions from the bombs outside as the crowds of the ballroom huddled together in the cramped, stuffy shelter that was built underneath the floors of the Ritz Dance Hall. As the song ended, she attempted to stifle a sigh of relief, and went to find herself a seat on one of the comfortable-looking settees spread out inside the shelter to make it seems a little more homely. There was nothing homely, however, about the damp, grey concrete walls, and the lack of natural light and air. The room was merely lit by sharp, moth-covered overheard lights, and the air was thick with dust and the damp humidity from the other human beings surrounding her. The only available seat was next to a man who had decided to make the most of what could be his last few minutes of the earth. He was rather vigorously kissing a young girl whom Jane knew by the name of Alice. She rolled her eyes, and as the high-pitched siren wailed from outside, letting them know that the air raid was over, the man broke away from Alice, coughed rather awkwardly, and watched as she strode from the shelter as if nothing had happened.
"Lucky the air raid was over quickly, eh?" Jane said, after a few moments of awkward silence, trying to break the tension. Pretty much everyone else had left or was leaving, and neither Jane nor the man had moved so far.
"Lucky for some..." The man mumbled in a strong American accent, who was now eyeing Alice up and down with a look of smug satisfaction on his face, just as she disappeared from view. Jane smiled, and said,
"And you are?" The American man shook his head slightly, and turned to face her, pausing for a second before answering.
"Humphrey Bogart." He said, matter-of-factly. Jane raised one eyebrow in a look of scepticism, and he grinned, and said, "Thought not."
"No, I completely believe you, 'cause I'm Marilyn Monroe." He looked rather taken aback by this comment.
"Forgive me, but wasn't Marilyn Monroe famous during the fifties?" He said, looking rather confused. Jane's eyes widened, knowing that she had made a mistake.
"Well yeah," She said, trying to defend herself, "but I didn't know they made such small, portable telephones just yet..." The man glanced towards his right ear, where he had a Bluetooth earpiece attached to his ear.
"It's not a phone! It's... Ermm... A really big earring?" Jane rolled her eyes and they both laughed, and then the American man said, "You do look a little out of place, what was your name?"
"Jane Tozer. And yours? But this time, have a think about it, because we wouldn't want you to lie, would we?" She said, putting her hand in her pocket, and bringing out a small Swiss pen-knife, which she held tightly in her hand. The man looked from Jane to the pen-knife and rolled his eyes.
"You know too much. Who are you?"
"No, we'll do my question first." Jane said, squeezing the pen-knife tighter against her skin.
"Captain Jack Harkness. Now, if you don't mind..." He said, taking the pen-knife from her and putting it back inside her pocket. Jane smiled.
"Good. I honestly wasn't going to do anything with the pen-knife, it's pointless anyway." She said with a cheeky grin, and got up, and walked out of the shelter and up the stairs to the main dance room. Jack glanced after her for a moment, before shaking his head. He would find out more about her later – for the moment he had more important things to worry about.