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"Only after sex and only for about ten minutes," he replied without missing a beat and with a little smile. "It helps move the blood back to the other head, you see; being undead has some limitations."

Jack crawled over her and rested on his back next to her. The positioning wasn't deliberate—it was easier on his shoulder than propping himself on his stomach—but it was almost disappointing to see only a blank ceiling instead of stars. "Thinking about anything in particular?" he asked.

He issued a sigh and said, "Oh, good, y'not like Creedy. She'd be getting ********' wet over the sound. But yeah. Sucks." He turned his head towards her. "'Course, doesn't mean everything is off the table. I'm just a little buzzed enough to be suggestible, you know." Jack made pinching motion to accentuate just how little.

Stuck in limbo, he honestly didn't know whether it was better to just roll over and sleep or not, and it was bizarre to let go of the reins so easily when he normally wanted a firm grip on things. Hmm. Firm grip. He lazily motioned of Chel to curl up by him; why make the effort himself when he could try persuasion?

"What can I say?" he said in a wry and bitter voice, turning to the ceiling again once Chel drew closer. "Dating someone meant being loyal about it. Havin' some decency."

Should have tipped him off not to try anymore to be honest, if the best thing he could come up with now was a vague and open relationship, hardly something he would have advocated a few years ago. Maybe he was finally reaching Finn's level. Maybe he finally didn't care. Maybe he understood how stupid it was to make something a bigger deal than it was, especially when lives came and went like cards in a casino: only as meaningful as you decided, only as what luck allowed you to get. He used to think s**t happened for a reason, but maybe it really was all just chaos theory, where the present affected the future but the approximation of it did not.

Owain had to push her question to the forefront of his mind. "Eventually," Jack replied as he curled his arm around her, as mindless as the hug. "If there's red tape about it, I can try to cut through. Vouch for good behavior, no further possessions, say you've been doing your work well. Something." He made a small face. "I'm as tired've seeing it there s'you are." It reminded him of too many things.

"If y'wanted decency, you wouldn't be here." It was all posture and hot air, masked confidence and lazy threading of intuition. "You don't surround yourself with decent people, Chel. 'Cept AK I guess. Point is, I bet you've had plenty've chances t'stick to someone nicer in your life, but the endgame is a lot more boring than stickin' to someone not decent. You stick your legs out over the edge'be the cliff 'cause you can." This was apparently solid proof of his argument.

"'Cause the ring's a joke. Always feels like things're a joke t'you."

He stared at the ceiling as if he might carve an answer there.

"Can't promise that," Jack said after a moment. "********' with people is a hobby. Can't let go've what I've got with Creedy or else I'd have nothin'." A pause. "Unless you meant literally ********?"

"What, you want a report every time? Notes n' stats n' ranks?" He was growing drowsy now that he was comfortable, making it hard to tell if he was serious or teasing. But as Chel grew quiet, so did he, and Jack closed his eyes and pressed his fingers a little more into her skin.

"S'least I could do," he murmured. "Have to repay the debt somehow."

He had almost convinced someone here once: the game with Nevada had been fun while it lasted. Sometimes it had worked in his old life, but then again most of those successes had lasted for just the night it needed to. He didn't know why he would bother trying to hide it anymore, but Hanna's game had to some extent also been entertaining: pretending to be someone more cavalier had its benefits. Like not being himself.

"Pictures," Jack repeated with a faint smile. "'Course. I can do that." He had failed to get her tit pics before. "Just remember you're not allowed to get worse than tired again. Sleep it off, drink it off, ******** shittons've people if you have to, just...remember t'get back on your feet." He twitched his fingers to check her grip and then curled them. "There's nothing worse than owing a debt t'the dead."