Reinette bristled slightly, an instinctual reaction to being told there was anything she might not do. Her eyes remained on Jack, the paleness of his complexion suggesting a softness and vulnerability that stood in stark contrast to the man of gear and glass next to him.

Her hand drifted down slowly, reclaiming its place at her side.

"I assure you that I can. And that he has. We first met when I was never years old, at my home in Paris." Her chin lifted slightly. "Though he has been noticeably absent of late."

Again, she studied Jack as understanding dawned.

"You know him."

The word know seemed to hold a great deal of meaning as it settled between them on the cool tiled floor.