[Training] feelin' fantastic, i'm fuckin' fantastic

JACK

"If I was gonna marry you, love, you wouldn't be makin' me do anythin'," Jack informs her with something of a sly smile over his shoulder, the captain dutifully handing the blades back (all three of them) now that they've stopped flinging them around, crossing the room to yank his own knife back out of the wood.

"Good? The best, some would argue," he drawls, more than happy to continue to pander to her charade if it keeps her thoughts as gleaming and bright as they are. (So sue Jack, but there has been enough darkness in both of their minds for a long, long while).

Returning to her side to accept the kiss to his cheek as if it's something owed, the captain barks out a laugh and shrugs his shoulders. "I'm just sayin', it depends on how good the knives are," he says. "An' the only thing I'll get for my birthday is a lot of booze, a few death threats from rivals, an' a party I never asked for that the crew use as an excuse to get wasted." Such has been the case every year since he'd acquired The Ark, anyway.

"Though I get the impression that someone is gonna be out to change traditions this year," he adds, raising his eyebrows at her.

you're the last of a dying breed; write our names in the wet concrete
I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me

Code stolen from Queen Sky