"Hi, I'm Captain Jack Harkness," he said. He knew how to introduce himself and smile. Worm himself into your life. Into your nights. Into your pants. And he doesn't care.

It's a trick he picked up somewhere around the universe. Misdirection. Sleight of hand.

He smiles and swoons and swaggers with conscience just lurking around the corner of his confidence, but it's all a lie.

He plays people like musicians plays pianos. And he learned it all through experience. He pressed all the right buttons and felt all the right notes. I know I screamed.

He will ruin your life and you will love him for it. And you think it's romantic, this sexually depraved and lonely old man desperate for someone to love him.

His perverted mind conjures up sexual fantasies he knows he can't live up to, but he'll want them anyway. It's all he ever knows how to connect with other humans. The easy way.

He'll see you in the street, a unique life, a unique individual, in time and space, and he will take you for his own. A devourer of hearts.

He cheats from life to life, like a parasite or a sexually transmitted disease. He infects you.

And the guilt in his heart may tell you he loves you, but he doesn't. He can't.

There is only ever Captain Jack Harkness. And he hates himself for it.