im_torchwood

Eliot

Jack was on hiatus and enjoying his vacation. He'd hit Broadway and the West End, and now he had tickets to Hamilton in LA Friday night so he'd come home. Itching for a show, Jack couldn't find a musical on stage except a few local school productions. Now that Urban Legend was in the second season, high school was probably a bad look. He'd been scolded enough to know when to dial it down.

He'd found a diner, though. A diner he'd never heard of and immediately got in the car to enjoy his night.

He walked in wearing a blazer over a tshirt and shiny black trousers.

"One?" the hostess asked, then led him to a seat without waiting for an answer.

"Thanks," he smiled, taking the menu...but surveying the place.

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"Not as good as a guaranteed year run," he replied. "Drink?"

Jack led the way to the kitchen to grab glasses. His bottles were on display.

"Yes please," said Eliot, and looked around his surroundings. "Whatever you're having."

Jack nodded and went to the fridge for some tonic water and grabbed the gin.

"Have you fixed your issues?" he asked bluntly. "I know people in town, you know. I could get you a shot, but not if it'll come back on me. You know how it works here."

Eliot looked over at him. "Drugs aren't a problem," he said. "Trusting the wrong people... maybe." He paused, and then added, "A lot of what the papers wrote about me was... not true. Not that it mattered."

"Have you gotten any better at picking your friends?' he asked, passing him the drink.

“I’ve gotten better at not trusting people,” Eliot said, and took the drink.

"Sorry," he winced.

"But good," he continued. "Recognizing bullshit in this town is a survival skill."

Eliot wasn't sure that he'd necessarily gotten better at that part, but instead just gotten... way, in general.

"So what's your level of bullshit on a scale of one to ten?" he asked.

"My bullshit?" he grinned. "My bullshit is out in the open. I hate secrets. I make mistakes out loud."

He took a swallow, winced, and went to find a lime.

"Things that should set off the alarms are anyone who forces an NDA on you and anyone who tells you something is an absolute done deal. Until the money is in you hand, believe no one." Jack offered as he picked through his fruit.

That sounded like good advice to Eliot. "Want to be my manager?" he joked.

"Abso-fucking-lutely not.. I'll get you with my manager, though," he offered. "Gwen takes no shit. You'll love her."

He came back with a lime and a knife and met Eliot's eye.

"She's Welsh he said, scrinching his nose as he said it.

"Oh, I mean... sure, if you think she might be willing to meet with me," Eliot said, and almost suggested that Jack ask her not to google him first. "Thanks."

He didn't think he knew anyone Welsh.

"She's willing," Jack assured him.

He knew without asking Gwen lived for a turnaround. She'd see what Jack saw. He knew.

Eliot couldn't help but still be a little wary. This all seemed a bit too good to be true.

"You must really like musical theater," he quipped, and took a drink.

"I do. Worse than that? I believe in the theater," he confessed heavily.

Eliot looked at him for a second and then, almost as if he was afraid that saying it out loud might jinx it, confessed, "I uh, I have an audition for a production of Angels in America next week."

"Alright, change of plans. I'm calling Gwen right now," he said, the flirtation in the air drying up as Jack turned to Business.

He pulled out his phone to find her number.

"Oh," said Eliot, blinking in surprise. "Well ah... sure, okay."

Jack had already wandered away, getting the woman on the line. An emergency, he stressed. Theater, he told her.

Jack held the phone away from his ear as a shrill scolding lilted from the speaker.

He pressed it to his chest, looked at Eliot, and held up a finger while she got it out of her system.

"So that's a yes, right?" Jack grinned, returning the phone to his ear. "Brunch, tomorrow, The White Sage. I love you, you know that?"

Gwen hung up.

Eliot was at a bit of a loss. He'd already been thinking about finding a new agent, since his barely returned his calls anymore.

"I'm not sure what to say," he finally said. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me for anything. I bullied my agent into brunch. You're going to have to sell yourself," Jack told him.

"Which you'll do better if you're relaxed," he continued.

A little smile quirked at Eliot's lips. "You know, I was already going to sleep with you," he said.

"I know," he grinned. "If I hadn't been sure, I wouldn't have done that til morning."

His smile grew.

"Then she would have been really pissed," he chuckled.

"Well I also want you to know that if you'd done all this just because you wanted to get into my pants I'd be incredibly flattered," Eliot said. And then he draped his arms over Jack's shoulders.

Jack smiled brightly.

"Noted," he said, swallowing half his drink.

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