"You're taking this very seriously," Daniel said, sounding puzzled. "Don't you have insulting him down to a fine art?"
"Yeah," Jack said. "It's just that I'm not sure even I've got enough witty comebacks if there's more than one Baal bouncing around the neighborhood."
Daniel chuckled, distant and breathy, and Jack's fingers tightened around the phone, wanting him closer.
"My money's on you, Jack."
Daniel hung up and Jack stared down at his chest, fingering the healed, perfect skin and thinking of acid and knives and pain.
Maybe this time he'll get to kill the bastard.
They wouldn't miss one.
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