i know it's gonna replay

“You shouldn’t smoke,” he says to her, approaching her from behind like some cat, silent before startling. She doesn’t even blink, however, instead just curving her lips upwards.

“Shouldn’t I?” she says cryptically, the cigarette limp in her hand, cool and refined. She lifts it to her lips, taking a drag and exhaling the smoke slowly, like a dragon not quite breathing fire. He frowns, and reaches up, plucking the cigarette right out of her hand, throwing it onto the ground and grinding it out with his foot.

“What’d you do that for?” she complains, frowning and stuffing her hands back into her coat, although she doesn’t reach for another cigarette.

“You don’t look cool,” he replies, “and you’ll be dead before you’re fourty.” She snorts.

“Don’t talk about stuff you don’t know about, Jack. You’re still a kid.” He snorts in reply, giving her another skeptical look.

“What are you talking about? You’re not that much older yourself,” he says, before taking a step out and tilting his head up to look at the sky. “What do you think we’re here for?”

“We’re the lookouts for this mission,” she says, “didn’t you pay attention during briefing? Some star agent you are.”

“No, I don’t mean that,” Jack says, “I mean, why…why are we alive? Why are we here, and not at the other end of the universe? Is there some reason for everything to be the way it is?”

“What?” she looks at him strangely, as if she cannot believe he is asking this question. And she can’t. “How old are you, Jack, to be thinking about this? I don’t know. No one knows, I guess. Except maybe those scientists down in Research, and everyone knows how they end up.” She laughs, hollowly.

“I’m serious, Lynn,” Jack says then, “are we here for any reason at all? All there is for us to look forward to is heartbreak and loss. There’s no other reason for us to be here.” She falls silent once more.

“You really are talking nonsense,” she says, before pausing. “Is this because of your parents? Or that sister of yours?” She pauses again, wondering just what to say to someone who has lost two of the most important people in his life, and was now in charge of the last remaining one.

“She’ll be fine, you know,” Lynn finally settles for, “June’s a strong girl. You know she’s coping just fine. She’s got your blood, after all. Anyone with your blood is a stubborn bastard with enough curiosity to kill Schrodinger’s cat.”

“Shrodinger’s cat is already dead,” Jack shoots back, but the hint of a smile is at his lips. “It’s not that, but thanks anyways.”

“No problem,” Lynn says smoothly, reaching into her pockets and pulling out the carton of cigarettes once more. Jack lets her get as far as lighting it and taking one long, deep drag before he snatches it out of her hands once more.

“No cigarettes, Lynn,” he says in mock-sternness, “it’s bad for your health.”