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

Green eyes looked up startled, the man having been deep in thought. His lips pursed for a second, giving way to a sly smile, "Now that was awful."

The man chuckled, not looking bashful in the slightest, "How about: 'Do you have a map? Because I'm lost in your eyes.'"

Harry groaned, pretending to slam his head into the bar. Inwardly, he was hiding a massive smile.

"No?"

He sat back up, shaking his head 'no' as if exasperated, but Harry was having a great time. This was an excellent distraction from what he had been thinking about earlier, "Maybe if you try it again from the top."

The other man cracked up at that, "No, I think I've embarrassed myself enough. How about we cut out the middleman and you let me buy you a drink."

It was only then that Harry noticed the other man's accent; he was American- something not uncommon and not unwelcome around these parts. 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 his full smile out, Harry nodded, "I don't see why not."

The man met his smile, 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 ('A Firewhisky, thank you very much') and returned, glasses in hand. 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.

"So, can I get a name, Mr. American?"

""I'm Captain Jack Harkness," he spoke, thrusting out his hand as if they were closing on a business deal, "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 might you be the 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 still a force of habit."

The Master of Death nodded in understanding, "I understand that- I used to be something akin to a police chief and often find myself reaching for my badge."

"Did you step down from your post or something?"

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

Jack leaned back in his chair, eyebrows high on his forehead, "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 do seem wiser beyond your years."

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 any way 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."

...

There were multiple reasons for Harry to be meeting up with Ron tonight. Though he did miss the man, they had some more pressing issues to deal with- namely Ginny's upcoming wedding. It was something Harry often thought about, keeping him up at night. He was certainly glad that she had found happiness and peace, but he couldn't help being a little jealous. He desperately wanted to settle down like his friends and die of old age as they would (if Harry could help it), but as they grew older and he stayed the same.

Harry stopped aging around 20 years old, or at least that is when he noticed that he was in a stasis. The discovery affected him greatly, first figuring it out when he was shot in the chest by a rogue wizard that got their hands on a gun after having their wand taken away. Pain, nothing, and then that train station. He stayed at the train station for a long time, deciding whether he wanted to go on to the great unknown or not. Responsibility won out and Harry woke up, bleeding in an alleyway.

It was then that the most peculiar thing occurred: the bullet fell out. The wound closed up. After he magicked away the blood on his clothes, Harry made his way back to headquarters, head spinning with the new found information. Seeing as Ron was the first person he found, he pulled his best friend aside and gave him a terrible task.

Hermione was the next to know and the first to name Harry's condition: he was the Master of Death. He wouldn't age and he wouldn't die. Instead, he would move on, trading life after life after life, one world to the next. What was next, only time would tell. It was enough to drive you mad.

Ron slid into the seat across from Harry, giving the Boy-Who-Lived a questioning look.

"What?"

"Who was that?"

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

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

Harry lets out a chuckle, "Still so protective, eh, Ron?"

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

Harry settles 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."

There was a brief silence, the two men at a loss for what to say next. Harry broke the silence, "So about Ginny's wedding…"

...

"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: Edited 1/18/2020

Hey there! I finally sat down and looked at this again while procrastinating and found that it needed some major work to get a little bit closer to my standards. Let me know what you think!