"Stop it," Jack said, slightly annoyed. He wouldn't let the Doctor follow his usual pattern of brushing it off and smiling and pretending everything was perfectly fine.

He stepped over, closer. "You know I will," he urged. "You know where I want to be." He looked down, feeling oddly sheepish, or maybe just too heavy. He had thought he was better, a lot better since the Doctor had taken him from that bar. But not better enough to go back, not better yet.

"Yeah," Jack tried his own smile for size, false and wide and it felt wrong to lie like that. "Over and done with and back in time for tea," he said with a nod. "And speaking of, don't I still owe you that drink? We'll do that. First thing when we're off again. Pick a bar, any place anywhere."

Reaching a hand up he wiped it over his face. He wondered if the Doctor would miss him too, but... no, no that'd be silly to imagine, wouldn't it?

"Doctor, will you-- where will you go?"