The ability to land, tumble, or be thrown bodily into new situations and to look never out of place (and thus vulnerable) wasn't one that Jack had been taught, though it was once he'd been refining through nearly constant use since the days he wouldn't get up after getting blown into messy bits. Playing the bumbling tourist could be a useful disguise if you weren't one in fact, but Captain Jack instead walked to the station with the broad-shouldered, long-legged confidence of someone who knew what he was doing here.

It helped to whittle things down. Strange lands with no immediate escape, not even to just live until interstellar transit happened? Yeah, kinda intimidating. But: Jack knew he was going to meet Martha, and Martha was brilliant and one of the few people he felt truly was his equal in the domains of saving-the-day and getting-things-done, so the rest of the issues at hand seemed as minor, peripheral problems.

Besides, he looked ugly when he panicked, and all he had to bring to the problem-solving table was good-looks and charm, so it was incredibly easy to buckle down anything bad and instead let the anticipation of seeing Martha Jones once again.

Once sighted, he rather shattered his blasé disguise by laughing joyfully and running, coat billowing, to collide with Martha and sweep her up in a hug, pulling her clear off the ground and twirling around with her twice.

"Oh, Martha, it is so good to see you," he breathed into her hair.