Back to the Present

"Eric! We're going to be late for your sister's wedding!"

"Yeah, I'll be down in a second. On second thought, go ahead, I'll catch up with you later."

"You better be there, Eric! I don't want you missing my wedding!"

Eric's brown eyes shifted to regard the stairs, before shaking his head. He heard the sound of a car door slamming shut, before the distant whine of a motor faded into the background. The house was empty, save for the faint ticking of the old grandfather's clock in the foyer. The silence usually lent itself well to his studying, except he wasn't studying this time. He was looking for information. In front of him were several stacks of newspapers, some of them wadded up, some separated into sections from various months and even years. To Eric, it all looked neat, as far as the information inside was concerned, but to anyone else, they'd probably have a heck of a time getting it back together. Even he didn't intend to put the newspapers back in their rightful place.

It had been eleven years since he, Ellie, and her father had been zapped back in time to 1971. He didn't understand how at the time, and he still didn't. They were as confused as he was, even wondering for a bit if the Doctor had something to do with it. But their father was a pioneer, and he made do with their situation. Separated from his own time and Captain Jack, Eric really felt lost, even with Ellie about. Now that Ellie and her father had each other, he wasn't sure if Ellie wanted his friendship anymore. He wasn't sure if she truly needed it anymore. However he was proved wrong, when Ellie pleaded for her father to let Eric stay with them, as he had no home. And her father was kind enough to adopt him.

The first few years were rough, as their father struggled to find a job and a place for them. Not only that, but he had to apply for new citizenship papers, as it wouldn't do to say they were 21st century londoners. He eventually got a job, though not as the astronaut as he had been trained to be. It probably was alright in the end, so as not to mess up any time. What confounded Eric slightly, was the name change. What had been wrong with their old names? Their father had said that Storms in the past could mess up the timeline. Eric hadn't understood back then, but he accepted it. Riding down the street, the three mulled over what could be a new name for them in this time frame. Different names popped up, including Eric's insistence on the name Zimmer. But passing by an old oak tree, Ellie spotted a raven sitting on the branch eating its fruit. Eric recalled several names popping up from that moment, but her father decided he liked the name Ravenswood. So Ravenswood it was.

And so he grew up as Eric Zimmer Ravenswood. Well the Zimmer bit wasn't included on his papers, but he loved including it in his name nonetheless. Most people figured it was his middle name, and after a while, he began to be unsure himself. In the end, he had Ellie for a loving, caring sister, and a loving father he never thought possible.

They weren't exactly blossoming with money, but still after years of hard work, their father managed to send them to a good school. Not top of the line expensive, but good. Eric drank in as much knowledge as he could, whether from the teachers or from books at the public library. He astounded many of his teachers with his quick learning ability in his science classes, and eventually got himself an academic scholarship. His father and Ellie were pleased with him when he went off to college before the average student, and graduated at the age of 17. Not only that, but with a PHD. He had the envy of much of his class, if not some snide remarks from some of the less privileged students. He took it in stride, but he couldn't help marvel at his own genius at times.

And now he had a temporary job in a lab just outside of London. He had the chance to put his superior knowledge to the test, and it was fun. It was fun actually experimenting with those sorts of things, and watching the other scientists at work. But one thing confounded him; none of them believed in the concept in time. Sure, they knew about relativity and if one ever went backwards, they'd go backwards in their own time stream. But they had it all wrong, they were going about it all wrong. Naturally he was unable to point them in the right direction, but they seemed so darn close minded for being open minded scientists. A year in, and he still could find nothing to further his knowledge on the concept.

He found himself actually missing the 21st century, with lit up screens and aliens appearing in hidden laboratories. A smile crossed his face as he remembered the lanky Doctor in his tweed coat and bowtie, and his bigger on the inside Tardis. Those had been some fun times, attempting to explore the inside of the man's spaceship, and lifting what he called his Time Vortex Manipulator. He'd kept it hidden safely away, never showing anyone, for fear they'd take it away. But he never did figure out how it worked. It had a lot of buttons and alot of numbers, but it was still beyond him, and he hadn't dared experiment, for fear of launching himself inside a wall. Was that possible? He was reasonably sure.

"Ahah!" He interrupted his current train of thought as he picked up a slip of newspaper. He'd found it. He'd found the incriminating evidence that would stop Ellie's wedding. Well, he hoped. He'd been against her getting married to the guy at the start, and his sister had blamed it on his being overprotective. Well maybe he was overprotective, but something in the back of his mind bothered him about this fellow. He was almost slimy, and Eric wanted to wash every time they shook hands. He associated him mentally with underworld scum, but he didn't know why. Until now.

Shoving the relevant newspaper bits in the pocket of his pants, he went to the back of his closet and shoved through all the junk. Picking up the watch like object, he brushed off the dust accumulated. The vortex manipulator, the object the Doctor had said he used to travel in time before finding his Tardis. Opening it up revealed the same confusing buttons, and for a minute he wondered what exactly he was doing. If he knew how to work it, he could get to the church before the priest had even conducted the ceremony. But he was being silly, depending on leftover remnants of the past, or rather future. He would do it the old fashioned way; run down the street and slam open the doors.

He shoved the vortex manipulator into his pocket as thoughtlessly as he had when he first took it from the Doctor's Tardis. With it went a string of beads he had wrapped around the band, and he was off like a shot from their house. Coming out on the sidewalk revealed a slight mist. It was always rainy in London, and as he ran down the street, he waved for a taxi, hoping that it wouldn't start pouring and ruin the tuxedo his father had rented. He was a little fickle on his appearance, but it didn't matter, because he was stopping that wedding, right?

When a taxi wouldn't stop, he dashed down the street. The minutes ticked by, and halfway there his lungs were already starting to burn. He found himself inhaling the cold misty air, stinging his lungs more as he willed himself to go faster. Come on, Ellie is going to regret this for the rest of her life if you let it happen. Move legs, move! As if on cue, his legs did go faster, and he felt himself moving through the air as if he were a car. He was so fast he was unstoppable. Heck, if he did stop, he feared he'd never get started again, and he barely dodged around a stack of barrels on the street corner. One more block, he told himself, one more block!

As he turned into the church courtyard, he could hear the distance strains of organ music. Was he too late? Had Ellie already said the fated words forever binding her and that scumbag together? The music had stopped as he arrived at the doors, and without a moment's hesitation, he slammed into the door. His barreling run helped, and as he fumbled the door knob, he managed to shove the door open with a bang.

He stood there in the doorway, his lungs heaving and his legs stinging slightly, his eyes roaming over the church's interior in a daze. It didn't take him long for him to realize he had every eye of the church on him, possibly because of his appearance. Obviously panting, his tuxedo just slightly damp, his hair a little ragged and less than perfect from the wind. It took him several long seconds, before he realized he was probably supposed to say something. And so he did.

"Stop the wedding!" It had to be the most cliché thing he'd ever said, for how many times did one hear that in the movies? His voice was high pitched, and he sounded like he was warning the neighborhood of a fire. Most of the church seemed astounded, particularly Ellie. The groom though, he looked as slimy as ever, and seemed to be regarding Eric with an arrogant stare. Eric stared right back, and strode up the isle towards the couple.

"Eric!" Ellie cried, but he interrupted before she could protest further.

"I know I said it before," he gasped out a bit. "But you shouldn't marry him. Because he's a..."

"Oh get over with it!" the cocky groom, known as Frank, interrupted, his mouth turning up in a sneer. "You're just jealous that your sister is actually getting married to someone as important as me. What, did you think she would be an old maid all her life, staying at home and caring for her baby brother when dear dad died?"

Eric barely kept the anger at bay as he clenched his fists. He thought he kept himself from punching the idiot in the mouth surprisingly well, and instead reached into his pocket and produced a crumpled bit of newspaper clipping. "I found this in the newspaper, a few years back. Remember the holdup at the bank and the killing of that guard? They blamed it on a local gang of thieves, and arrested a school boy for collaborating. Guess who's in the picture?" He pointed to a rather fuzzy image of a man's face disappearing into the car.

Frank kept a calm, if terribly arrogant composure as he glanced, shrugged his shoulders, and said, "Well I don't know, what's that got to do with me?"

"Looks alot like you, doesn't it," Eric said, his breath rushing out as he talked fast. "And the trial. Who's there at the trial?" He pointed to a list of names underneath a picture.

"I don't know, I guess I was, alot of us were suspect, heck even you were there," Frank pointed an accusing finger at Eric.

"Yes, and some nervous looking local provided testament against Frank. Poor, in need of money. Guess what, I talked to some of his friends, and one of them saw you talking to the guy just before the trial. And then, funny thing that the guy died right after the trial ended."

"Look," Frank became visibly peeved, even angered. "I had nothing to do with it," he added as he looked over at Ellie. "Tell your stupid brother that I didn't have anything to do with that robbery and didn't murder the guard, or talk to some local." By this time, Ellie had grown really quiet as she listened to Eric, and frowned as her fiancé called her brother stupid. As Eric continued with his rant, she took the newspaper clipping from his hand to get a closer look.

"And where were you on the day of that bank robbery? Sick at home apparently with a bad cold, alibi provided by dear dad. Do you do this often? Go about stealing, killing guards and blaming innocent people for it? I knew you were a sleazy good for nothing from the start, but now I know you're a sleazy, good for nothing, liar, murderer, thief..."

Eric never finished. A loud smack reverberated through the air, and Eric reeled back as he held his jaw that moments before Frank had hit. A gasp sounded from somewhere in the pews, and he wiped a bit of blood that had leaked from a bitten lip. Frank was visibly angered, and Eric could feel his own building up within him. He'd kept it at bay to harmlessly shout, but well, Frank had thrown the first punch, and there was nothing stopping him from throwing a second. Another second and he had leaped at the groom, throwing a punch and his body weight at him. He was taken down, and a replay of 11 years ago began in front of the altar. Punches flew back and forth as he and Frank attempted to beat each other into a bloody pulp.

Ellie cried out, begging for both of them to stop, just like she had 11 years ago with Matt. With her help, the help of her father, and the best man, they had managed to drag the two of them away from each other. Eric's suit was all rumpled and his hair was a spiked mess. Frank was much the same, only he had some blood smeared on his cheek, and he no longer looked the smooth handsome fellow from before. He looked downright evil and ready to kill, like a mad dog on a leash.

"I knew this was going to happen," Frank spat. "You and your stupid little homesick brother. Well I've had it. You want to marry me? Get rid of him," he said, glaring at Ellie as he pointed to Eric. "And as for you!" He turned his angry eyes back towards Eric. "You'll get what's coming to you. You hear me? I promise you that," he said dangerously, before storming out of the church.

"I'd rather get rid of you, if you're going to be that way," Ellie said quietly as Frank turned around, but her comment fell on deaf ears. The whole congregation looked on in a mix of shock, amusement, and confusion. Eric stood there still fuming, and as he was released, he grabbed the corners of his suit angrily and tugged the wrinkles out. Turning his head, he opened his mouth to speak to Ellie, but found her disappearing hurriedly into the back of the church.

Their father said something in an attempt to calm them down, but Eric had tuned everybody out. He knew he should've felt some satisfaction at successfully breaking up the wedding, and exposing Frank for the slimeball that he was, but he didn't. His anger still remained in full force, and he clenched his fists to keep from hitting anyone or anything as he walked out of the church. He wanted to chase down Frank and teach him a lesson he'd never forget, beat it into his skull that he and Ellie were not people to mess with. But he didn't, merely watched as Frank's car disappeared down the road. Damn that slimeball, he screamed mentally as he stepped over to the crosswalk, and flung his foot forward. His shoe impact with a trashcan, sending it hurtling through the air and landing on the street with a clang. Then another followed as a car sped by, hitting it and hurling both lid and can down a nearby alleyway.

The occupants of the church were filing out. They were busy gossiping, he could hear them. Some were talking about him, some where wondering whether what he'd said about Frank was true. He gave some of them a glance, trying to keep the anger in his eyes down, before he turned and headed down the street. They said walks were good for letting out anger, well he'd try it. He'd probably end up kicking half the neighborhood's trashcans over, which was probably better than hunting Frank down and killing him.

He didn't know how long he walked. The overcast setting of the day told him it was mid afternoon, though it seemed much later in the day. Down street after street he walked, some occupied, some not. Trashcans, glass bottles, loose bricks, they didn't escape his wrath as he kicked them out of his path. At the end, he felt his anger building into a tight ball, that would only let itself loose if he screamed or hit something furiously. Breathing in deeply, he stopped, picking up a brick near his foot, and prepared his arm. Yelling, he stepped forward, letting go of the brick he had been swinging, and hurling it for a nearby lamppost. He expected the glass to break, but instead the air seemed to warp and twist in front of him as the brick disappeared. He stopped and stared at the air in a morbid fascination, watching where the blue sparkles met with purple whirls. He'd seen this before, he thought as he stepped forward. It'd been in the wall, and it opened on Eric's command when he touched it. It'd let a reaper through last time. What would it do this time?

He stepped forward, his hand reaching out as he prodded at the air with his fingers. It seemed to twist and turn in response to him, and he heard the voice again. Calling. Something, somewhere inside was calling him. Beckoning him to come, asking him to listen to its voice. Asking him to carry out its mission. What do you want? In response, the air seemed to shimmer, but it looked about to fade. No don't! He hissed at it in desperation. Come back! I need to know, who are you? He stepped forward, and the air changed around him. It swirled into a tubular walk way made of blues and purples, laying out a swirled carpet made only for him. In response, he walked its length, and came out on the other side.

Lightning crackled overhead, and as he looked up, he realized it was night. Not only that, but he stood in front of the brown building known as the Millennium Centre. He stared at it in fascination, remembering it as a childhood memory when he had last roamed the streets with Captain Jack. It looked a little worn, as if it needed some new paint, and rain water dripped off its exterior. But he didn't remember seeing it recently! Was he in a different part of Britain? And actually, what day was it? It hadn't been night when he stormed out of the church. Looking behind him for the portal he'd entered, he stared in disappointment as he saw it had closed up. Waving his arm in the space produced no whirling sparkles of blue and purple. It was gone. For that matter, so was his anger.

Another flash of lightning, and he realized it had started raining. Pulling up his jacket collar around his neck, he began running down the street for cover. He didn't stop until he had found himself a nice awning, and he dropped himself down into a bench while panting. The rain didn't look like it'd let up any time soon, and for that matter, neither did the night. Just where was he? He twitched an eyebrow in consternation, and decided to look around for a newspaper stand. He didn't need to look far, and spotted a newspaper abandoned near a trash can. Picking it up and ducking under a tree, he opened it to the front cover. Surprise lit up his face as he stared at the front page. Not the outlandish topic it was on, but the date.

August 28th...2014.

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(OOC: It's a bit open ended, but that's because...there's only so much you can cram into the starter post. I don't have any plot in mind, but I suppose something can be up on this date in the newspaper? Also, Clara/Emma and I talked over her past character's Ellie's reactions in all of this.)

The rain continued to pound the pavement with little emotion as Eric stared at the date. 2014. 36 years. He had gone 36 years into the future. It was amazing, and he would never have believed it if he didn't know time travel existed. In fact, he realized as he studied the numbers more carefully, it was the same year he had gone back into time! What was the month? August...he hummed as he racked his brain trying to remember. No, he couldn't remember the exact month anymore...but he was sure it had been an August! Or close enough anyway. It was so coincidental for him, that he felt like pounding the pavement in excitement. Then a sad thought came over him. Ellie was back there, wondering what had happened to him. If he didn't find a way back home now, would it be too late? Would time write him out of 1979? Ellie would probably be worried sick and think him dead. Well technically he would be, since he no longer existed. How much she would grieve, and he didn't want to cause her that pain, especially with her getting over Frank's rejection. Damn, he hoped Frank wouldn't do anything to hurt her to pay them back for the insult to his pride. He nearly sat up straight as he thought it. Nah, he'd probably wait for Ellie to come crawling to him, which Eric knew wouldn't happen.

He still hadn't straightened out the problem in his own mind though of whether it would mess things up if he went back home, creating paradoxes and the like. Probably if he met Ellie in the future, he decided, and she'd be how old now? Mentally he added the years. 57. She'd be 57 now, and he still looked 19. Even if he was her little brother, he'd look more like her son. Suddenly he wondered, if she had married, would she have a kid roaming around? Maybe even several? My goodness, he thought, would they even be attending the same school he had?! It boggled his mind so much that it almost hurt to think on it further. Where would Ellie even be living now? She'd probably have moved a distance from where they grew up. Maybe he could find out, but he mentally noted he couldn't approach her. Then he'd accidentally confirm for time they'd never meet again before, and he didn't want that to happen.

Before he'd even decided what to do, or even where to look next in the rain soaked city, there came a noise. It was more like a wheezing thump combined with the subtle splash of something soft hitting a puddle. He looked up over the edge of his newspaper, to see a girl standing there, shaking her hands in frustration. Then his eyes averted to the soppy wet sidewalk to see a wet bag and a discolored blob amidst some scattered groceries. And the girl seemed unsure of how she was going to take all the bags, and her mess, home probably.

The gentleman side of him spurred him into action, and he folded the damp newspaper and laid it on the bench, before pulling up the flaps of his tuxedo and hurrying through the rain to her. She was quite a bit shorter than him, and judging from her immediate appearance, he judged her to be over eighteen, but not much older than that. Probably in college or just out of college. Flashing a smile, he came up beside her.

"Let me help you with that," he said smoothly, and before she could comment, protest, or anything, he had bent down and picked up some packages that had fallen. He shook off the water and the paste, before tucking them all under his arm as he stood up again. "One heck of a dreadful night, isn't it," he remarked. "Where do you live? I could walk you there and help carry..." Then he stopped as he stared at the face that met him. "My goodness!" he exclaimed. The resemblance was uncanny, almost unreal. The nose, the chin, the cheekbones, it was all the same. The only thing different, he noted, were the eyes and the dark brown hair falling past her shoulders. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought it was Ellie with her hair dyed and colored contacts. But this was 36 years later, and unless she discovered the miracle cure for wrinkles, he severely doubted it was her. "You look almost like my sister!"

Eric was still thrown off by the fact that this girl looked so much like Ellie, but he flashed a smile as she agreed to be walked to her place. "No, I don't mind at all." He shifted the items in his hand, and picked up the remaining shopping bags she had left for him. By now, his tuxedo was more than damp, and he hurried under an overhanging of trees before coming to a slow walk. Once they were briefly under cover, he turned to her.

"So, what's your name? Mine's Eric," he announced as they walked. He kept his eyes on her as he waited for her answer, and tried his best not to stare. Or at least, not stare apparently. The resemblance was remarkable. It might as well have been Ellie, just with hair died brown and different colored eyes. She looked a bit older though. Perhaps it was one of those dopplegangers portrayed in movies, only more realistic with the spread of several years.

"I used to live around here," he said after a bit, though neglected to mention where "here" was. He wasn't quite sure himself without looking at a map of London. "When I was a little boy. I don't remember seeing that before though," he added as he pointed to the Millenium Centre peeking out over the tops of several buildings.

Once the groceries had been put away, and Clara had asked him if he wanted a cup of tea, it occurred to him that he shouldn't be there. It was late, and he should be going back home to Ellie and their dad. Back to the 20th century though, and he still had to find that time portal. It might take a while to locate it and activate it again. In the mean time, he realized he had no place to stay. And he couldn't just ask the first person he saw if he could stay the night. That wouldn't be right, and he'd probably look like a weirdo if he even asked Clara to do that. But she'd offered a hot drink, and he realized he was wet and chilled, so he nodded.

"Cup of tea would be nice, thanks. Um..." he faltered, not sure whether they had new tea varieties nowadays, but figured she'd probably ask. "Any variety will do." He looked to sit on the couch to wait for her, but decided against it. He'd probably get it all wet. He slipped off his coat though, draping it over top of the arm rest, before moving over to the window and opening it. Dang it was a stormy night, he didn't see himself going anywhere just yet. Maybe he could ask to borrow an umbrella and find himself a hotel for the night. Did he have enough money? He reached into his pocket, feeling the loose cash and change he'd had to pay some of the caterers attending. Whoops, dad will have to pay them all now.

He took off his shoes and shook out some of the collected water before putting them back on and walking across the living room, shoelaces untied. As out of place as he felt in this look-a-like's apartment, he could at least risk a look around at some of the pictures she had on the mantel and on her table. He could see a picture of a man and a small looking version of Ellie. His memory may have been distorted, but she seemed to look just like the blonde, with her hair a bit darker. He moved around to another picture, and this time he picked it up. There were three people in this photo, the little Ellie with the darker hair, the same man, and an older looking Ellie. The older looking Ellie looked like...well, an older version of Ellie. If he didn't know better, he'd say it was Ellie a few years after he had left her. Though this guy she seemed to be married to definitely wasn't the idiot who'd stormed off from their wedding.

"Clara..." he called out slightly, his eyes still focused on the picture. "I don't mean to snoop at your things, but, I couldn't help noticing the pictures on your mantel...is this your mother?"

Unbeknownst to the two strangers, a man stood in one of the alleyways they had passed on their way to Clara's abode.  The canopy of an old tattoo parlour sheltered him from the pounding drops of rain and kept him drier than the two venturing on.  The red light of a cigarette burned away at the tobacco as he took a drag.  His eyes followed them and smoke flowed from his lips.

"So, what's your name? Mine's Eric."

"Clara Oswald, nice to meet you."

The cigarette at hand was dropped to the wet pavement below, crushed under a boot before the man began to casually follow the two, making sure to keep his distance so not to startle the two before him.  Clara Oswald, one of the Doctor's many companions.  He had heard the name countless times but hadn't had the pleasure of meeting her.  And Eric... the boy had gone missing in events that were unknown to the general public.  At least the Eric he knew.  But then again it was a common name.

He adjusted his navy overcoat as the rain began to weigh it down, sniffing idly at each wet splosh of his boots on the side walk.  They approached a cluster of apartments- the very ones Rose Tyler once lived in.  The man watched Clara and Eric disappear inside the building and sped up in order to stick his toe in the closing door, preventing himself from being shut out.  

Creeping inside, he paused at the entrance and turned his back to stare out the window and watch the downpour.  How would he approach this situation?  It would certainly be odd if he showed up at Clara's apartment without a non-creepy explanation as to how he had found the place.  How would he explain his presence without alarming anyone?  He supposed that was a hard thing to achieve.  He should just go ahead with it; who cared how they took it?

Approaching Clara's door, the man raised his hand and knocked, not paying any mind to the fact he was dripping wet.

Eric nodded as Clara pointed out each of the individuals. He really couldn't get over the fact that this women looked so much like his sister. He glanced over at Clara as he mentally guessed her age to be about...maybe it was about twenty? She looked like a tiny little girl in the picture, only about two or three. That would've had to have been about twenty years ago that Clara was born...give or take a few years...which made the year about 1990 or so. Given he had left Ellie in 1979, that meant an 11 year time difference. Was this really an Ellie 11 years older than he left her? That would've made her about 32? She didn't exactly look 32 in the picture. Then again, she always did look a little younger than she actually was. Maybe it wasn't Ellie after all, he surmised as he set the picture back down on the mantel. Maybe he was just wishing to know exactly where she was and just happened to find a lookalike. Did that sort of thing happen often?

"Yeah, towel would be nice," he called out, leaning his head to the side as he watched Clara's form disappear from the doorway. He still continued moving from one picture to the other, and barely glanced as Clara came in again with a towel, which he absentmindedly took as she disappeared into the kitchen. "Um, cream, one lump of sugar." He finally turned as Clara appeared again, and as he slid his hand along the bookcase, his hand hit a book. Theoretically, he shouldn't have knocked it off, but it seemed he was being clumsy today. Perhaps being too attached to this sudden obsession of his, which he would've argued wasn't an obsession at all. Still, he almost gasped as he saw the book fall out of the corner of his eye, and made a clumsy attempt to catch it. His finger tips brushed the edge, and it landed face down on the carpet. He grimaced as he glanced up at Clara, knowing she'd probably be very annoyed with him.

"Sorry, my fault. Seems I'm being clumsy today." He turned the book over, righting it as he made sure the pages were straight and not wrinkled. He patted them as he replaced some of the pictures that had fallen out of this particular page, noting that it must have been a photo album. He felt a little bit guilty, knowing that this was a sneaky way to find out things about a person, even if it was accidental. "Really sorry. Her name was Ellie..." Then he stopped as he grabbed the last photo, staring at it. The guy in the picture looked awfully familiar, with his long coat and his bowtie, that long chin and his little too long hair. It was like a ghost from his past, and he was brought back to a memory of the Doctor, Ellie, and himself in that magic blue box with the other dimensional plane. "Who's this guy? I think I've seen him before..."

Then he looked up as a knock sounded at the door, almost ominous in the time that it presented itself.

The man straightened as the door was cracked open, attempting to look presentable.  "Captain Jack Harkness." He said with a smile that made his eyes shine bright.  Clara was good looking, he had to hand her that.  If he didn't know better he might have dived into the opportunity to get  good flirt in.  But the Doctor's scowl seemed to follow him where ever he travelled, not to mention he didn't come here for personal matters.  Well, personal matters was what brought him here but none that led him to that type of matter.

What was going on with that little boy?  It was a question that had been in the back of Jack's head since that faithful moment he ran into Eric at the library.  The warped patch of time that bent around the boy's life was curious and unnerving.  The incident proved that the kid was something else, something special.  Jack didn't have the answers as to who Eric was and why the events surrounding him occurred, but they did.  The captain promised to take care of him and that didn't work out.  The boy had vanished; it had been hard to concentrate on work since.  He had his team keeping their eyes peeled while he looked for an explanation.  If only he had tried harder or put that case before his others then maybe he would have more knowledge and therefore would be able to track the kid.  But there was nothing.  No time distortion.  No hints.  Nothing.  It didn't make any sense.  Was this why he zoomed in on any mentioning of an Eric?  The boy just beyond this woman's door could be no body of interest to Jack.  But because who stood before him was a companion of the Doctor's, Jack was willing to believe in a miraculous outcome.

"Someone's with you." It was better to get right to the point.  Clara didn't know him (unless the Doctor mentioned Jack, which he doubted very much) and he was sure the dark haired girl would appreciate his bluntness. "His name's Eric. He helped you with your groceries.  I need to see him."

The suspicion and distrust that Clara greeted him with came to no surprise. She asked all the questions standard for someone in this situation. Jack shifted his weight and placed his hands on his hips, acknowledging this obstacle with some thought and a light sigh. "I'm always up to something- or someone- but that's not the point. I'm not here to hurt anyone. I'm Eric's guardian, or rather was until he disappeared."

The captain wasn't sure what he could do if Clara decided to shut the door in his face. Well, kicking it down could always be an option but not only would that send the wrong signal when stating 'I'm not hear to hurt you' but Jack didn't think he wanted to meet this body guard of hers. There was no point stirring up trouble where it wasn't needed, though seeing Eric was becoming an urgency. What if that ugly time rip swirled itself back open and sucked the poor kid right to his grave? Jack hoped he could figure things out and prevent it before it got to that point.

"You can trust me," He began while placing a hand to his chest, "I was a companion of the Doctor's too at one point. Hot man with a box that travels through space and time? You bet I jumped on board." Perhaps this similarity would ease the tension that was wedged between the two. Jack had found the Doctor was amazing at bringing people together even when he wasn't around.

(OOC: I'm assuming Clara opens the door here when I say it's ok to.)

Eric turned his head towards Clara, as it was her door, although somewhere in the back of his head, it seemed to be for him. What was it, some indulgence back into his fantasies? He almost expected the Doctor to pop up out of the photo album; that was literally how he seemed to be to Eric. That and he had some troubles listening to Eric, that was the one key feature he seemed to remember about him. Even if he did have a blue box with a dimensional plane, he could've learned some manners. Or maybe he was just the arrogant type who didn't have time for kids.

While Clara moved for the door, he righted the photo album and set it back on the shelf, making sure it was just so. He was tempted to peruse it some more while Clara was absent, but he didn't want to intrude any more than he was. Still, there was a definite mystery around Clara. First, her mother's name was Ellie, and looked exactly like his Ellie in her pictures; second, she could've been from the same century as he had left his sister in. Third, she knew the Doctor. Could it be? Had the Doctor come back to his own time while he was away? Had Ellie introduced the Doctor to her own child? Wait, was Clara his sister's child? If Clara was his sister's daughter, would that make the twenty some year old girl his...niece? It seemed almost unbelievable, but he had to know whether that Ellie in the picture was his sister. He had to know her last name.

As he moved for the door, he overheard snatches of a conversation. Clara sounded annoyed, if a bit concerned and he positioned himself against the wall as he listened. Hold on a second, he thought, personal bodyguard? Did she mean him? But he'd only just met her! He rested his hand against his jaw, the other hand idly moving to the towel draped across his shoulders as he thought to dry off his neck. The man at the door spoke, and as Eric listened, he realized there was something familiar about this man. He knew him from somewhere, but where...

And then he said the magic words. Eric's guardian. Now he knew exactly where he'd heard that voice before: Captain Jack Harkness, his childhood hero! He had to keep himself from leaping off the wall into the door, he was filled with a sudden excitement and curiosity. Somehow, he managed a calm casual stride over to Clara, tapping her on the shoulder. "It's alright, I think I know this man," he said reassuringly. "You can undo the latch."

He waited for the door to be undone, pondering Jack's last words. He was a companion of the Doctor? Then that meant he knew something of time travel too? He was even more intrigued now, and wondered what his childhood hero and protector had been holding back from him. From the sudden wormhole, to meeting a lookalike, to Jack turning up on the same doorstep as he, it hardly seemed a coincidence to Eric. "So, you say you're Captain Jack and you're looking for an Eric? Well, I can't promise I'm the Eric you're looking for, my name is Eric Ravenswood." He flashed an almost knowing smile at Captain Jack, as he wasn't quite the Eric Jack was looking for.

(Drank a load of energy drinks, nothing to reply to. So Imma do this!)

Suddenly Sonya appears wearing a sombrero hat, carrying two maracas and sporting a fake mustache. Without bothering to see where she landed, she tosses the hat to the floor and proceeds to do the Mexican 'Hat Dance' while shaking the maracas wildly, nearly hitting the pictures off of the wall near her. "La la la la la de da! La la la la la la De Da!" Then, reaching down, she snaches up the hat, plops it onto Eric's head, tweaks his nose with a wink then jumps out the window with a loud scream of "OH CRAP, I FORGOT MY PARACHUTE!"