The Bronze was fairly Mickey Mouse, as far as social hotspots went. The blonde at the bar looked fairly Mickey Mouse, too. But Jack needed information, and where life forms and alcohol mixed, information flowed freely.

“Hello, beautiful,” Jack said, sidling up beside her and slipping a fresh drink in front of her. She glanced down at the empty glass in her own hands, rattling the ice with her tiny cocktail straw.

Taking the drink from him, she cocked her head and sucked on the straw, not stopping until the glass was half-empty. When she was done, she blurted out, “I know you.”

Jack suddenly wondered how many drinks she’d already had. “I don’t think so, but we should definitely remedy that right now.” He put on his mega-watt smile. “Captain Jack Harkness, at your service.”

The blonde shook her head. “No, not your name. I didn’t know that. But I know you. Your type.” She looked him up and down. For the first time in his life, Jack Harkness wasn’t positive she liked what she saw. It was disconcerting. “You’re the kind I used to save the special vengeance for. Using the spine as a xylophone, melting eyeballs out of sockets, turning brains to tapioca … that sort of thing.” The words poured out of her like water from a faucet, unfiltered and without the slightest trace of menace.

“Used to?” Jack said. It was a small detail to fixate on – the past tense of that verb – but he wanted to get out of this dive without losing his spine or having his eyeballs melted. Naturally, he wasn’t afraid of dying. He just wasn’t inclined to deal with the pain, and especially not as a result of buying a pretty blonde a drink.

“I can’t make with the brain-meat tapioca anymore,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, voice crisp and matter-of-fact. She reminded him of a bird fixating on a worm. “You want something, though. Is it me? Because there are at least two girls at this bar and six girls on the dance floor prettier than me. Is it because of my eyes? They’re brown. Xander talked about my eyes sometimes, when he wanted sex.”

Jack decided that charm wouldn’t help him here; it was an unfamiliar sensation. “I need information, actually. You look like a woman in the know.”

Her forehead wrinkled. “You don’t want sex?”

“Well, I didn’t say that,” Jack replied, giving her his grin again. “Maybe you should tell me your name, beautiful.”

“Oh, right. I’m Anya,” she said with a bright smile in return.

Before Jack could say anything else, a familiar voice interrupted. “Oi, Jack, I told you not to wander off!”

Jack sighed and rolled his eyes at Anya. “Sorry, it’s my keeper.” He turned to the tall, skinny bloke who had appeared beside him at the bar. “Doctor, this is Anya. We were just getting acquainted.”

“Cut that out,” the Doctor said, frowning. “We’re not here to … acquaint … ourselves with anyone.”

“What are you here for, then?” Anya asked, pulling a long sip on the skinny straw and regarding the Doctor pertly.

“Interdimensional instability. Tracking void stuff – there’s a concentration of it around this part of California, and we traced it to the local school, but I can’t seem to –”

“Oh, you mean the Hellmouth?” Anya asked, as though they were morons for not already knowing that particular piece of information.

“Hellmouth?” the Doctor and Jack echoed in unison.

Anya shook her now-empty glass. “I’ll take another one of these, Captain Jack Harkness.” Jack waved over the bartender while she cocked her head at the Doctor. “You’re British. Are you a Watcher? Because the Watcher’s Council already sent a bunch of guys to check up on Buffy, and that didn’t turn out to well for them, let me tell you.” The bartender set a fresh drink in front of her and she picked it up, sucking on the cocktail straw. “I’ll save you some trouble: Buffy’s got everything under control, and Giles isn’t going anywhere. You can just go back to your Council and your crumpets and your tea, and rest assured the Sunnydale Hellmouth is in good hands.”

Giving Jack a sideways look, the Doctor dug into his pocket and pulled out a pair of 3D glasses. He put them on and leaned close to Anya, holding his hand out a few inches away from her hair, as though stroking something no one else could see. “Aha! Void stuff! What are you, then? Interdimensional traveler? Some kind of explorer? A –”

“Vengeance demon,” Anya replied with a shrug. “Well, ex. Like I was telling your friend here.” She paused, eyeing them both. “Are you boys a package deal? Because a few more of these fruity drinks, and we might be in business.”

Jack beamed, looking back and forth between Anya and the Doctor, and began to wave the bartender over.

“Oi, I said cut it out,” the Doctor snapped at him, pushing Jack’s hand down as he stepped closer to Anya. “Vengeance demon, hmm? Is this … Hellmouth … how you came to be here? Do you have a ship?”

“Wait a minute. I have some questions for you, man with the hair.” Anya gestured vaguely at the coiffed mop atop his head. “You’re not from the Watcher’s Council?”

The Doctor puckered his lips. “Never been fond of councils, to be honest. Too pompous for me.”

“But you’re British. And you’re investigating the Hellmouth.”

“Welllllll, not quite British. More Time Lord-ish.”

She stared at him. “Never heard of a Time Lord demon before. What’s your thing? Messing with peoples’ pasts? Changing their futures? Some Christmas Carol–style tinkering?”

“What?” he said, a bit shrilly. “What? No. Not a demon. Just a Time Lord.”

Anya sighed and pulled a cell phone out of her purse. “Right. Jack, buy me another drink. You” – she gestured at the Doctor – “sit your hair and your ego down. I’m calling Giles. He’ll get you sorted out.”

Jack leaned over to the Doctor, waggling his eyebrows and depositing a martini in front of him. “A blonde vengeance demon. This entire situation looks very promising.”

The Doctor sighed and put his head in his hands. “I just want an interdimensional crack between universes and a way to cross the void. Is that too much to ask?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

This fic is for Anna, who has kindly beta-ed so many of my other drabbles. Thank you, thank you, you editing genius. And if you aren’t following her, you should be. She’s amazeballs.