Jack Harkness

Jack is standing in front of the giant red stiletto, with all of the team except for Gwen waiting for John to join them. “We'll go once, John arrives. He's still a bit more familiar with this entire Nexus thing, so he'll get us in.” Jack holds his hands up to get the attention of the chattering bunch, his eyes seem to fix on his team.

“The entire idea, is for us to have fun as a team, and hopefully we won't,” Jack smirks playfully, and he leans against the red stiletto. “Get thrown out, like some other places we tend to, but then again this isn't work.”


“I still don't believe we're letting him join us,” Ianto sighs, as he fixes his suit up, and while this is standard fare for him, it's likely overkill for a nightclub. “Still, me a DJ in another life? At least you're there for him,” Ianto smirks, as he looks everyone over. “I'm still not going to sing.”

“Who John?” Tosh asks, with a quick fix of her purple knee-high dress. She's not completely thrilled of making an ass out of herself in public, but the team nights never were without their fun. “I mean he was pretty cute, but the head-butt was hard to forget.”

“Um, yeah him,” Ianto lets out a sigh, as he remembers the first time they met. “He'll get us thrown out you know.”

“Let's not forget getting shot!” Owen adds with a frown, and he looks at the red stiletto. “I wonder if she kept herself free. I bet it was a damn jungle up there,” Owen goes to seat himself down, between Alisa and Tosh, and he places his arms on their shoulder's. “We outta call this a date night too, you two,” Owen nods his head to Jack and Ianto. “With me escorting these two fine ladies to this club.”

“Here's another to join the, don't make me sing club,” Owen agrees with Ianto, and this is still a rare thing to see here. “Alright, maybe a dance with one of these two, or if I can get her interested the alternate Tosh.”

Alisa's raises an eyebrow at Owen. “Don Harper?” Alisa pats Owen's arm, with a smirk. “I'll make an ass out of myself tonight, and yes we'll dance.” Alisa glances at the white short-cut dress she's got on, she's got a nice tan from her vacation, a little tasteful bling and slung over her shoulder is a bag with a big box of cigars and a bottle of bootleg rum.

“There we go, we can share,” Jack winks at the idea of dancing. “I've got no problems sharing Ianto with you Owen.”