Jack didn't falter or flinch as she moved. If anything his gaze as she shifted her fingers to his hair was a challenging one; urging her on, seeing how far she dare go. He did so like to push the boundaries.

As her hand withdrew his eyes turned to, and turned to the small twig between her fingers. The corners of his lips turned up into a smirk.

"Yeah," he whispered, "okay. But you've at least got to admit, I wear it well."

He smirked at her, and stood back himself. He paced around her, mirroring quite purposefully the strides she took around him out in the garden. Evaluating.

"So," he asked as he walked, waiting to finish his sentence until he was back standing in front of her, "what is it you want me to wear?"