Best way to celebrate Friday: Random moments of Jack Harkness

"Now," Jack said, holding a beer high in one hand and using the other to gesture widely across their table, "you have to remember that we'd had four bottles of the sparkling orange wine between us and it seemed like a fantastic idea at the time. John said that if the grey haired old monks could do it, he certainly could, and neither of us even considered that those monks had spent decades learning to bend that way."

Gwen grimaced, like she didn't want to ask but had to. "What did he try to do?"

"Cross his ankles," Jack said, pausing to laugh, "behind his head."

"And he couldn't?"

"Oh, he could. He could and did." Jack's grin widened. "What he couldn't do was uncross them!"

"No, not really," Gwen said around her giggles. "If you got them up..."

"He got a cramp and couldn't move his legs. He started waving his arms around, yelling for me to help, and it knocked him off-balance so he was rolling across the floor. It was a hillside village and those floors sloped. Once he started rolling, he couldn't stop."

"You didn't try to help?" Ianto asked with a smirk that was almost mean.

"I was laughing too hard to breathe! It was hilarious! And there I am, bent over, laughing so hard I'm crying, and he rolled out the door and off the balcony." Jack stopped laughing long enough to swallow a mouthful of beer. "No damage done, other than a few bruises but he complained about his sore thighs for a week."