"Maybe, but if you have to stand and watch a Weevil rip apart a member of your family, or have your world turned upside down by knowing something you shouldn't, most people would welcome the chance to forget." He knew it was wrong really. He knew that very well. What was Jack if not memories? He'd made promises that relied on memory. He'd had his own memories stolen, a fact the Doctor knew only too well. "Trust me," he said, shifting up more comfortably, bringing his leg up to curl over the Doctor's a little, "I've got first hand knowledge of what it's like. It's not a drug I use haphazardly."

And well, that wasn't quite true either. But he did his best, didn't he?

With another grin and a pleased little drunken laugh, Jack shook his head. "Oh well in that case I'm definitely not going to stop."

He raked his fingers up into the Doctor's hair and watched as he did it, smiling dumbly to himself, "I love your hair you know, you've got some amazing hair." He'd never make such a silly observation usually (or at least he'd like to think), but he was feeling more than a little fuzzy.

"Stop trying to be angry," he suggested, "just relax for once. And it's not embarrassing. Doctor it's me. Seriously, I don't think there's anything you could say to me that'd be embarrassing.""