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It was anybody's guess how Jack had managed to worm his way inside of a club like this one. The face on his fake ID was that of a thirty-something man with a hooked nose and a terrifically pointed chin. His hair was also an ugly blond, and he wore glasses. About the only thing he and Jack had in common was their height--- at 6'2" the young Mr. Stark stood at a level, if he was not taller than, all of the men at the club.

He was on the dance floor, at the heart of a sea of grooving bodies, and there was an ecstatic grin on his face. Jack loved drinking. Jack loved dancing. These things together were absolutely fantastic, and he was sucking up every moment like a sponge; curious hands gliding occasionally over the curves of undoubtedly older women. Fingers never lingered for too long, because Jack was a half-hearted sort of gentleman and void of a desire to get b***h slapped.

Proustite was hit often enough for the both of them.

Feeling very warm, chocolate eyes twinkling with delight, Jack rolled up his sleeves and started towards the bar. Licking his lip, combing his fingers through his hair, he glanced sideways at Sassolite, hesitated for a heartbeat, and then ordered two tequila shots.

The second was for her.

Sassolite might have seen him first, but Jack actually recognized her. He remembered the pretty redhead from the latest Negaverse meeting, where Beryl had introduced them all to a handful of new General-Royalty and an alternative to killing.

"No problem," he responded with a sideways grin that made him look sweeter than he actually was. Surprised eyebrows flew up into his hairline when she downed her shot without so much as a blink, and Jack, chuckling heartily, scrambled to keep up with her.

Aware of those eyes as they roved over his lanky frame, Jack tried to make himself more appealing by straightening his posture and puffing out his chest. Since he was still more boy than man, and more wiry than he was strong, this didn't work exactly in his favour.

But it didn't seem to matter, because Sassolite was dragging him onto the dance floor anyways. He went eagerly and, even though he suspected that the Captain had some sort of ulterior motive, placed his hands on her waist. Jack stood as close to her as he dared, lips twitching faintly at the corners, and whispered in her ear.

"I'm Jack."

Jack was excited. There was a pretty girl under his hands (a senior officer, to boot!) and she had her arms around his neck. He grinned genuinely down at Sassolite, and leaned, perhaps a little too eagerly, into the feel of those sweet lips against his own.

It was nice-- or, rather, it would have been nice. If it didn't feel like she was trying to suck the life right out of him.

And then he understood, and those chocolate eyes widened with surprise. Half-chuckling, half smirking Jack pulled his head away. His grip on her waist tightened, just a little bit, and then the boy in front of Sassolite changed. In front of her stood a fellow agent; a fledgling Lieutenant she might recognize as Proustite.

"Well, well, well," his lips twitched, "that was quite the kiss, Captain. My knees feel a little weak."

It wasn't exactly a lie.

Jack wasn't too worried about anybody noticing him. They were surrounded on all sides by bodies that were more interested in things like touching and gyrating. It was dark. If anybody happened to spot, and wonder about, his casual transformation-- then, oh well. A civilian was easily silenced. Senshi could be… dealt with.

Except for BJ and Ducky, neither of whom were very good at dancing and sat high-fiving each other at the bar every time a moderately pretty girl so much as walked by them, nobody in the club knew who he was. Anonymity was the important thing here. Not necessarily stealth.

He sighed gratefully when Sassolite returned whatever energy she'd stolen, and was intent upon deepening their kiss, with a gentle hand cupping the back of her head, when the Captain pulled away from him. Proustite couldn't help a little pout.

But then she was dragging him into a secluded corner, holding him close, and Jack was all kinds of excited when she whispered in his ear. She sounded a trifle upset. He was amused.

"I recognized you from the meeting," Proustite's breath would be soft against her ear, "I liked what I saw."

Jack liked it when she touched him. He was aware that she did it mostly for the sake of hiding herself, but he smiled at the feel of her hands on his arms anyways. Sassolite was little more than a very pretty, very dangerous stranger. If he were a normal man there would have been something to worry about. But he wasn't an ordinary man-- he was Lieutenant Proustite; one of Queen Beryl's esteemed soldiers, and a lady killer to boot.

"Nice dress," he grinned playfully at Skye, and placed his hands against the wall on either side of her head. "It suits you."

Her second question caught him off guard, and Proustite was silent for a heartbeat before answering her.

"I don't answer to any one Captain?" his tone was tentative. This was not the self-righteous declaration of an independent man. It was the curious enquiry of an uncertain boy. Jack was still very new to the Negaverse. He didn't know a lot about what was going on.

"It is nice to meet you, Skye." Proustite's smile was genuine. It reached his eyes.

Proustite would not, in fact, have any trouble being bossed around by this pretty redhead. Skye's confidence radiated off of her in waves that drew him like a moth to a flame. It was impossible to resist, when she dazzled at him in this way. And Jack was, if nothing else, an honest man.

Innuendos aside, Proustite was aware of the fact that consenting to her suggestion meant answering to her as his Captain. It would become her responsibility to lead him, and it would be his duty to follow.

Jack looked forward to the view.

"I think under you might be the best place for me," he agreed, and the expression on his face was more business like than the tone in his voice. Jack was flirting too. It was obvious in the way that he leaned towards her, and evident in the sultry quality of his words.

He didn't understand why he had to power down in order to talk at the bar, but shrugged easily at her and did as he was told anyways. "Anything you say, sweetheart."

Terms of endearment. Jack knew how to use them.

Returned to his civilian clothes, grinning from ear to ear, Jack held out his arm to Skye, waited for her to take it, and gestured at the bar with his chin. "Shall we?"

It took only a little bit of effort to cross the floor and reach the bar. As gentlemanly as he ever was, Jack took pains to make sure that Skye didn't have to worry too much about bumping into people, and used his free elbow to nudge unfamiliar faces out of the way. Bobbing his head in time to the music, singing along under his breath, Jack led Skye to the bar.

It was a quiet night on the town, and the demand for alcohol wasn't so high that they could not find a seat. He chose the first set of free ones, waved half-heartedly at Ducky and BJ, who both flashed him a pair of thumbs form across the bar after noticing Skye, and turned to her with a cocked eyebrow.

"Twenty-one," he lied, because the bartender was nearby, and requested a light beer for himself. They were mixing business with pleasure. As much as Jack enjoyed flirting, especially with girls as pretty as Skye, he wanted to have his wits about him now. "Its my birthday today."

He twinkled at Skye over the mouth of his beer bottle, willed her to see through his little fib, and murmured;

"Would you like to give me a present?"