for ambitious_woman Back to Earth, 1750

[quitehomoerotic]

There's something about Earth.

Out of all the places out there, all the little planets in the sky, Earth just has something special. He wanted to go back, and he hated that he wanted to go back. He'd ran away from there for a reason; he couldn't cope with it any more. It wasn't like he was even born there, sure he spent over a hundred years there, kicking his heels, saving the place on countless occasions, but it shouldn't matter so much to him! But there he was, sitting on some dirty transporter, wondering about getting back.

He couldn't go back though. He couldn't go back to there and then and the people he left and the people that left him. He'd ran so far across that planet to get away from the things that hurt, but it was just too small. Impossibly small and those troubles were right behind him, peering down from him from above. Guilt weighing down on him that he just couldn't escape.

So he stayed away. He stayed away and kept quiet. Frequented corners of dingy bars and found solace in the bottom of a bottle.

But it wasn't what he wanted, and pretend as he might that he was okay with wallowing, he wasn't. He wanted to be doing something, anything, and that damn feeling that Earth was where he should be just wouldn't quite go away.

That's when he realised; he had only one option. Go back. But not now.

It's also when he realised that he had to fix what had been broken for over a hundred years. He had to get himself back in the game.

Out in space and with the resources on the various ships he'd found himself travelling on, it was surprisingly easy to happen upon the little components and tools he might need. He'd never found them on Earth, but then he never did have that sort of luck. It took a while, but he got there, bit by bit amassing what he needed until finally he could sit down and with care take apart his vortex manipulator and put it back together again with new and renewed working technology.

He could go anywhere.

But where? Earth, of course. But not a place he'd been, not a time he'd been. Somewhere new, but somewhere that would be enough to comfort him in knowing he was 'home'. So he didn't make a decision as such, he just put in some parameters to avoid (Cardiff being the biggest), and he pressed the button and hoped for the best.

When he arrived, without even needing to check he knew he was on Earth. It had that smell, that slight mix of something in the air that always seemed to be there, no matter where or when you were. Good, he thought, good. This was good. He didn't check when or where he was, that could come later. For now he'd explore (and he'd forgotten how nice that could be).

So that's what led him to walking around a vast (and likely very private) garden, lined with intricate designs of flowers and plants. French, he suspected. That was okay, he hadn't been to France in a long time.

Maybe he'd enjoy this.

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[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack continued to watch Reinette with a non too veiled curiosity. She was interesting and not just on the surface. She spoke like someone who had experience of things that perhaps most people wouldn't talk about, or even believe. He wondered what that experience entailed.

"Maybe it's the scenery," Jack offered with another backwards shrug. Words entirely too casual and flippant to even possibly be meant.

He couldn't know though, not in his wildest imaginations, that the Doctor himself had been here. In his mind if he'd have known he'd have likely left immediately. The Doctor, for all that he meant to Jack was a reminder of his failings. And he was sure too that he'd been abandoned and ignored by him for a second time. He could only try so hard to impress the man, and he was just a little bit bitter that he hadn't been there when he needed him.

"Well," he said with a slight smirk, "how about we 'do' something to prove I'm more than interesting."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Again, Reinette studied the man before her with a hard, accessing gaze. There was a brash flippancy to him that might have caused irritation other than the quiet understanding that he was quite capable of supporting it.

He was attractive, she thought somewhat distantly. He managed his words well, which not only suggested intelligence but wit. The two did not always go hand in hand.

If he knew all these things about himself?

Well, she could hardly hold that against him. After all, she was sure of these things in herself as well.

"That is not a word I am light with, just to prepare you."

With that, her hands moved to smooth the lines of her skirt, brushing down in brisk, effective strokes that broke the planes and space between them.

"Louis has a great many daughters, and one of them is celebrating a birthday tonight. Would you be interested in trying your hand at French society?"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

A little voice, a little quiet voice in the back of Jack's mind told him none to gently 'NO'. It shouted at him that this isn't why he'd come here. That he shouldn't be getting involved or joining in or having fun. He shouldn't be... well, acting like Jack Harkness.

He was here to visit, nothing more. To quench his thirst for seeing Earth again. Brush past it, but don't touch it. Don't leave a mark. Just be the shadow of a ghost. But here he was, about to grab it firmly and scrunch it up in his hand.

But then he never really was one for following his own instruction. And that little voice was very small. He could easily ignore it.

"Well French society sounds just up my alley," he grinned at her. "And I'd hate to refuse a party."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

"It might be -- up your alley." Reinette tested the phrase on her tongue, threading the words together. "But you are hardly -- how should it be said -- up its."

She took another step back, this time to critically study his appearance. Everything that followed was brisk. Unaffected.

"You will need a change of clothing. Perhaps a bath."

Reinette lifted her skirts slightly to turn back in the direction of the palace. She cast a glance at the captain over her shoulder.

"Shall we?"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack smirked at her attempt to use his words. They didn't fit well on her lips, yet there was something strangely appealing about hearing them spoken.

"Oh do I now?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "Well we'll see about that." Once he might have been more eager to change clothes to fit in. To play a game of dress up for an era. But now his clothes had become his uniform; part of his identity. He was a little more reluctant.

He didn't follow her at first. He just stood and watched the lines of the elaborate fabric of her clothes. The way she stood and turned. She had it down to an art form.

"Oh I think we shall."

And he took a step, following next to her.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette easily navigated the pathways and steps of Versailles, her skirts whispering behind her in a familiar cadence. Always, she watched. The comings and the goings of court. And in turn their reaction to her, and the stranger beside her. In that, she gave them no ground.

Nothing to suggest this was out of the ordinary. Let them wonder. Let them wait. She owed them very little, after all. If anything at all.

She continued to lead the way to her suite of rooms, now located on the lower floors. In the past year she had vacated her rooms famously located just below the kings. The spiral staircase that now linked them was now closed as well, walled away.

She often felt like that staircase. Still reaching, but for something that was now undefined.

"Tell me something of yourself Monsieur Harkness. Is there anything of substance to you, beyond sightseer?"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack walked along behind her with a striding step. He observed the corridors and the places around them, observed the people with their half glances as they passed. He observed the woman a steady step in front of him, unwavering in her movements. Such an intriguing woman.

Jack too, past a cursory glance, paid no attention to the people they passed. No nod in greeting, no smile or mere twitch of the mouth to exchange expressions.

"Oh I've been known to have my moments," Jack replied without really replying at all.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

She entered her sitting room, allowing her guest to follow behind before moving to close the door. Her staff would present itself when requested, but lately she had found herself preferring more solitude.

Wallpaper of a delicate porcelain blue was detailed by hand, brushstrokes breathing life and depth into the room. One wall was anchored with a fireplace, flames licking at its hearth. It was, of course, not the fireplace. The one that childhood fantasies grew about like vines.

That one rested in her bedroom, freshly reclaimed from her childhood home. Faced with making this new space her own, it had been her first instinct. Perhaps because now, at the conclusion of her relationship with Louis, it finally felt permitted within her sense of fairness.

She turned to face Jack.

"You must be sure and inform me when you have one."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

As Jack stepped into the room he slowly paced forward, observing the area around him, taking in the minute details.

He tried to use the appearance of his surroundings to work out who this interesting woman might be. Society indeed, of that he had no doubt. But who exactly, and what was the substance of her. Rooms in this palace, lavish as it was. The palace of Versailles that he understood it was.

In his head he repeated her name. It still tugged away but not enough to give any realisation. "Really should have brushed up on my French history," he mumbled to himself under his breath, before turning his body to fully regard her as she turned.

He was amused by her words. She didn't seem hooked in by him in the way most people were, and that, in its way, was tantalising.

"Who are you, Jeanne-Antoinette?" he asked her, with a curious tilt back of his head, trying to figure her out.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

"I suppose the answer to that question would depend a great deal upon who you ask. I shall give you the polite answer, for the time being."

She might have curtsied then, but they had already teased at that exchange. So instead, if possible, her posture grew even straighter.

"Jeanne-Antionette Poisson, Madame de Pompadour. Most late the mistress of our king, Louis XV." Her smile was somewhat distant. "If you wish for more details, you shall have to speak to them."

Them, of course, being the general crowd they passed on their journey.

"You will have your opportunity this evening." Her tone became more brisk. "That is, of course, if we can make you presentable."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Madame de Pompadour. Oh now that name rang bells. That name he recognised.

"You're Madame de Pompadour?" he asked with an incredulous tone and a wide grin. Oh now that was just brilliant wasn't it? Someone of historical importance, and not just anyone. He'd read about her, he'd been impressed with her. And now here he was standing in front of her.

"Well, really, that explains a lot." He spoke aloud, but mainly to himself more than anything. It explained her confidence and her manner.

He could have gone on, but no, no something else she said caught him instead.

"--what do you mean presentable? I'll have you know, I look pretty damn good as I am."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

She could not help but smile, something that was less practiced. Less balanced.

"If only your enthusiasm were catching, surely my efforts would be more appreciated."

There was something, again, in his expression. Something that tugged at some undefined place in her middle and in her mind. It seemed to pull her towards him, even when Reinette was absolutely certain she was standing still. He was familiar, somehow.

But perhaps that was merely like recognizing like.

Again, she surveyed him. But this time her eyes lingered, that familiarity coming into play.

"Your shirt is rumpled. There is no accounting for the amount of dust on that coat." She reached forward there, her fingers momentarily moving through his hair. "And you are wearing some of the tree you were admiring before."

With a flourish, she presented him with a twig.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

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?"

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

She turned the small branch within her fingers a final time.

"Better than most," Reinette allowed, her voice low but tinged with what she conceded as a compliment. She was in a generous mood today, it seemed.

An eyebrow arched, and she could not help but push at the playful banter between them.

"Did you enjoy your walk?"

It was a question she seemed content not to wait for an answer to. Instead she lead the way to another room adjacent to her sitting room. Decorated in ambers it held two large wardrobes and several delicately worked chairs. Through an archway a bath was visible, as well as a dressing screen. She opened one of the wardrobes, and a collection of men's clothing was visible.

"You are of Louis' size, and he never had the opportunity to wear these."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack didn't comment on the compliment, but he filed it away and smirked a little that he'd achieved it.

"Oh I did," he responded with approval as she was already stepping away. He fell into a stride behind her, eyes taking in the surroundings.

Another room, lavish still, and within the wardrobe clothes that were quite literally fit for a king.

"Oh very nice," Jack said approvingly as he thumbed through the assorted coats. Once upon a time he'd rather enjoyed playing dress up, and well, he supposed he could do that again. He wasn't sure about the odd tight things that the men seemed to wear, but he was sure he could pull it off.

"Seeing as you seem to like things in order," he said with a twinge of amusement, "any specific one you'd like me to wear?"

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

At that she actually laughed. It sounded light and far away to her own ears.

"I would never direct you in a matter of taste. Especially when you are so sure of your own."

Her hands moved to smooth at her skirts again. She would have to change herself, soon.

"But I will direct my staff to set you a hot bath, should you wish to take one. Louis recently had actual plumbing installed, and it is very much the fashion. But the results thus far are uncertain at best."

She met his gaze again.

"I shall return soon?"

How long, she wondered, did this man require for his toilette?

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

The laugh made him smile. He appreciated that it was caused by him. Always something to appreciate.

"Then in that case," he grinned, "I'll surprise you."

He glanced back towards the bath and nodded. Really, this was quite the nice place to end up, of all the places he could have been.

"Oh I hope so," he said with a grin and a cheeky smirk. "After all, you'll need an escort to this party, right?"

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

His words, however politely intended, eroded at any of her laughter that lingered. He was right, of course. She --

No, she did not need an escort. Truthfully, she had been fully prepared to attend the night's festivities on her own. But she appreciated the idea of one.

And she could not like being indebted to a stranger. There was enough of that already.

"I shall eagerly anticipate the results of your efforts."

And with that, she briskly left the room.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Hmm. Interesting. He'd touched a nerve, he saw that clearly, but he couldn't possibly know how or where.

He'd remember that though, and perhaps it might be useful knowledge later.

As she left, he watched her, and didn't move until she was gone and he could no longer hear footsteps along the corridor. Then and only then did he turn his attention back to the closet and the clothes within.

He cleaned and changed and left his own clothes laid gently over the back of a chair before changing into one of the outfits. A coat of pale blue with golden brocade detailing. As he checked his reflection in a mirror, he had to agree... he looked good.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Through the years, Reinette had become quite proficient when it came to altering her appearance. There was the theater, of course. Costumes and changes and the delicately woven threads of fantasy.

But then there was the business of entertaining a king. It was her role to see him to bed each evening and greet him with a smile after mass each morning. And always, perfectly dressed.

Once she had marveled at the textures and the touch of the fabrics, how the felt moving over her skin. How her hair breathed after as evening held at bay. But some of that was lost, she could fully admit. She was more shopkeeper now.

Reinette tried to bring herself back, then. To enjoy the feel of the midnight blue silk as it settled over her body, her breath becoming shorter as her maid expertly worked the laces. A bolt of matching blue velvet paneled the bodice, the entire gown expertly worked with silver thread. Soon her hair was precisely coiffed, a single blonde lock working cutting across her shoulder.

After a brief knock, she reentered the dressing room.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack waited patiently for her return, and as she entered the room he turned on the heels of his finely polished shoes, facing her.

He smiled slightly, more than approving of the vision before him. She was beautiful before, yes, but here she was a vision. He could quite easily get intoxicated.

He stood now, head to toe dressed like a man that belonged. He'd even had one of her people bring him the appropriate headwear. A wig to cover his short and out of place hairstyle. The only thing that remained was the strap on his wrist, mostly concealed under the lace of his shirt and heavy sleeve of his coat.

Stepping forward, he dipped his head at her, and then a perfect mimic of the time (if a little tongue in cheek with it), he placed one hand behind his back and bowed to her slightly.

"Will I do?" he asked as he looked back up.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Her head inclined as well, fully aware of his own amusement there. If he searched closely enough, he would discover a light in her eyes that proved she held no objection to it.

Reinette stepped closer then, though she did not circle about him as before. She knew what the clothing looked like well enough, she had commissioned it after all. She was far more interested in the man before her.

He wore it well, the coat sitting perhaps sitting slightly tight about the shoulders. He was a man built to move she suspected, contradicting his story of sightseeing. But then, who actually spoke in truths?

The wig was something unexpected, and spoke to a certain industriousness and understanding. The results were not unpleasing, but at the same time they did not feel quite right.

"That you shall."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Good," he said as the corners of his lips turned up into a half smile. "And you," he added, regarding her with an obvious approval. "Very nice."

Over the years Jack had been to many a party. Many a party in many an era. In the far future many planets and colonies attempt to imitate these great Earth eras. Extravagant clothing and music. There was that planet he spent a week on that had a whole city based on the eighties. Now that was a nightmare in and of itself.

But here, here the only imitation was himself, but he didn't let that fact bother him. He'd been out of place many a time in his life and his confidence (even false confidence) always got him by.

He took a step forward and offered out his arm to her.

"So, this party? Want to tell me what to expect? Because I think you and I both know I'm not from around these parts."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

With precise intent, Reinette placed her arm over Jack's. [Jack, she repeated within her mind. And then again, softening its harsh lines with the French pronunciation. But no, that did not suit him.

Her mouth would simply have to become accustomed to it.

"Louis' daughter is celebrating her birthday this evening. She is recently returned to France from overseas. She was betrothed a quite a young age and only recently married her husband has passed away. She wished for the rooms we are standing in now, though I received them. She will find some what to make her displeasure known this evening, I am sure."

Reinette lead the way from her rooms down the tiled corridor and towards the more public spaces of the palace.

"You," she decided. "Will do quite well I think. With the men and women both. Somehow I do not imagine you will object."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack listened and nodded as they walked, absorbing the information and taking it in.

"Oh I'm sure you'll hold your own," he commented idly in response to the potential awkward situation she might face later. He had a feeling she knew just perfectly how to deal with that.

At her last comment his eyes brightened just a little, and his smile widened to match. He glanced down sideways at her and laughed gently in the back of his throat, "Now Jeanne-Antoinette you really are sharp, aren't you? 18th Century France and you don't even bat an eyelid. Something tells me you've got quite some stories to tell, am I right?"

As they passed people in corridors, Jack ignored them. He instead focused his attentions on Reinette beside him. Entirely.