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An audition. Jack had an audition.

Well, it was more accurate to say that a down-town theatre troupe was holding open auditions for a musical production of the Fiddler on the Roof, and that Jack, who was pouring over his lines in the park, had every intention of trying out. He paced back and forth between two birch trees, with his bottom lip teased between his teeth and a look of the utmost concentration on his face. The papers he held in his hands were very wrinkled, because they had been folded and unfolded over and over again, and looked as though they might have been soaked in a bottle of coca-cola. Because Jack had spilled some on them.

He was looking forward to these auditions like any ambitious performer would, and very enthusiastic about getting every single word right. Jack knew that landing a role, even if it was as one of the daughters (he really wasn't picky), could mean the beginning of the rest of his life. One night he might be asleep in his dorm at Hillworth-- and the next, Hollywood!

If it wasn't probable, it was at least possible.

His was the heart of a dreamer, and it told him so.

As he was, with his face screwed up with focus, Jack was not paying very much attention to his surroundings. He paused every now and then to turn around, so that he did not collide with any trees, but was otherwise lost in his own little world.

One moment, Jack was on his feet-- and the next, he wasn't! Papers scattered everywhere. He groaned when he hit the ground, startled heart beating a harsh tattoo against his ribcage, and stared up into the face of the young lady that had tackled him. For an instant, Jack wondered if he was dreaming. This fantasy wasn't too far off from his Hollywood one.

The stunned grimace on his face twisted into a roguish grin once he realized what, precisely, was sitting on top of him.

Jack breathed a little raggedly, because his lungs had taken a slight beating in their tumble, and crossed his hands behind his head. He looked very comfortable. "If you'd wanted my number, baby, all you had to do was ask for it."

He looked thoughtful for a moment and then added;

"Not that I mind."

This was something that he could probably get used to. If only all women threw themselves at him.

It took a lot to fluster Jack. As they were, he was pleasantly surprised when Fiona did not move, and his hands went curiously to her waist. She had a pretty face, he decided silently, and oh, those eyes! One green, the other blue. How enchanting. How unique. A happy sigh slipped passed Jack's lips, and he cocked an eyebrow at the way that hand played against his chest.

She was a bold creature.

Jack smirked, because he was too.

"It certainly doesn't happen very often," he confirmed with a nod of his head and thanked the gods like she'd told him to. Jack opened his mouth to speak again, and then promptly closed it when he was struck by an exciting idea.

"Uh- do you do this sort of thing often?" the expression on his face was eager, and the words came out so fast that they might have been spoken all at once. "I've got some protection in my pocket."

Jack was not behaving like a gentleman, because she hadn't given him any reason to believe her a lady. He was assuming things.

"Oh MAN," he groaned, because he'd just wasted his last bit of cash on a pretzel. "How much?"

Jack could practically see it-- the way the girl's emotional thermometer rose steadily from playful, to surprised, and then to horrified. His heart sank, but not with dread or repentance. No, it was disappointment that coursed through his veins.

He sat up when she stood, supported himself on his arms, and blinked unapologetically up at her angry face. When Jack spoke, he was mocking her. "Oh, excuse me," he drawled, and slowly started collecting his papers.

"I can't help it if you're a tease."

It didn't matter that she'd tripped and fallen. She had lingered, and let her fingers dance along his chest. Jack, who had very seriously been under the impression that he was a second or two from getting laid, if he could only fork over the cash, was not about to feel sorry for the things that he'd assumed.

And then he laughed, straightened his papers, and cocked an eyebrow at her.

"So, are you telling me, that if I was cuter, I'd be getting lucky right now?" Jack bit his lip, and tilted his head to the side as he regarded her. His brown eyes shone with amusement, and his voice dripped with sarcasm. "Good for you, babe. Way to stick to those morals."

When it came to women, Jack really wasn't very picky. Quality of appearance and personality were subjective judgements. It was not usually difficult for him to find something in a lady that he liked. As he knelt, quietly collecting his papers, Jack had to admire Fiona's spirit.

He was not humbled into repentance by the furious girl's obvious disdain, and twinkled up at her with amusement.

"I think I would have liked you rather a lot better if you were a whore," Jack continued in that same lazy drawl of his. He stood and absently brushed off the seat of his pants. Little bits of grass floated to the ground. "At least then you'd be putting that mouth of yours to some good use."

Jack cared very little for Fiona's insults, and even less for her opinions, and stared blankly at her pretty face. And it was a pretty face. This fact had not been lost to Jack. But whatever beauty she had was diminished, as far as he was concerned, by the ridiculousness of her temper.

This was all a silly misunderstanding. And he was not a big enough person to apologize to her for the things that he had said-- especially not when she was so determined to offend him.

Fiona was obviously not amused. Jack obviously didn't care.

Amused, but unconcerned, he watched her with a lazy, nonchalant sort of regard. Ego rolled off of this woman in waves, and it intrigued Jack a little bit, but also made it difficult for him to regret his attitude, or the things that he'd said. It didn't look like they'd done much damage to anything other than her temper.

"Next time you 'fall' on some guy," Jack rolled his eyes, "make sure he knows it was an accident first, and get the hell off of him."

His lips twitched. Jack looked thoughtful for a moment. He slipped two fingers into his back pocket, pulled out the little square package with the condom, and then chucked it at her. Harmless, it floated to the ground between their feet.

"Take that. Just in case."

And then, because Jack's patience was wearing thin, he spun on his heel and left her there. He had more important things to do than bicker with a silly tease who thought it was okay to mock his retro hairstyle.