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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[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette smiled in the face of his own. There seemed something inevitable about it. That there was simply no way in which she might meet his smile and not reciprocate. An occurrence she suspected he was well aware of.

"If you will not oblige, can you inform me a reason why I should then in turn 'tell' you. And have I even given you any reason to trust what I might say?"

She is teasing, to a certain point. Though Reinette was often one to utilize masks, to trade on her training and skills to dissemble? When she actually chose to speak to something true, that was not the games and manipulations of court, she preferred honesty.

Not that this was anything he knew.

There was a straining then, the sound of the orchestra beginning a waltz. It was a strange new dance, once merely a delicate section of a far more complex court dance. A moment for bodies to meet after the intricate give and take of steps, partners coming together then falling away. No one, it seemed, wished to work for their rewards anymore.

How like this court.

"But I shall offer you an opportunity to discover more. Dance with me."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

His smile, as he looked at her, only grew wider. Wider with an undeniable twinkle in his eye. A cheeky twinkle, and a blatant one that entirely didn't fit in his surroundings.

"Well, I've got an honest face," he said, deadpan.

His face was certainly not honest, but somehow, so many times he had the ability to make people tell him things anything. It was a charm he'd cultivated over a century and a half of practise. Practise until it became just part of who he was, and part of what he did.

At the sound of the music he pricked his head up and looked around. A waltz, well, he could do that. He'd been quite the dancer in his time.

With a turn of his body and an outreached hand he smiled, "I thought you'd never ask."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette tilted another smile towards him as they took their place on the dance floor. It was not overly crowded, as of yet. The dance required a certain grace not everyone had mastered. They did their inabilities behind a mask of disapproval.

His hand was warm, she thought. His fingers calloused, though it did not make the places where their skin touched unpleasant. He was not a stranger to work then.

Interesting.

"I was not aware that I asked."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack's hand slipped deftly around Reinette's waist. Not a tight hold, but a decisive one. He turned her hand gently in his own and it made it only too clear that he was the one leading. At least in the dance. And at least outwardly.

"Oh but you did," he said in little more than a whisper, head inclined in to speak it into her ear as though it were some great secret.

"So tell me," he said, continuing in the same tone, "all these people, do even half of them know how to have a little fun? I'm guessing not."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette tilted her own mouth upward, bring it close to her partner's ear. Through the course of a turn she had to bring herself up in her toes to do so. She could feel the warmth of her own breath returning to her, taste how it was altered by his skin. Her hair brushed his cheek.

"Strange. That is not how I remember it at all."

The distance between them stretched again, into something more accepted. But not quite. She was not one to yield so much.

"I suppose that much depends on how you define your amusements."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack raised his eyebrow in mock surprise and whispered back, "Well maybe we better work on your memory."

He remained aware of his surroundings, of everything. The people that milled around, but mostly her. Her and the way the fabric of her skirts moved, the way her necklace shifted against her skin, and the way her hair ghosted across his skin.

"Oh," he said, with a slight nod a smile. "And how do you suppose I define mine?"

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette lifted her gaze to meet his own, easily maintaining the connection despite the rise and fall of the music. Twice a couple lead by a distinctly uncoordinated rather portly courtier nearly caused her to collide with Jack. But through sheer force of will Reinette maintained the sliver of space that separated them. She did not believe in accidents.

"You define them the way a great many here would wish to for themselves, I imagine." Her mouth tilted slightly. She was well aware of the eyes that followed him. "Only somehow, I think, you might actually follow through."

And then her smile grew by degrees.

"That is something distinctly lacking here."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

The corner of Jack's lips turned up into a half smirk. He enjoyed her way with words. She had a delicacy with them that very few managed while still very firmly getting her point across. It was a delicacy that he was sure came with many years of understanding.

Little words that helped paint the picture of the woman.

"I've been known to," he agreed as he glanced just briefly to meet some of those observing eyes. A knowing look in their direction enough to cause a blush and a drop of the other person's gaze before his own fell back to Reinette. A much more interesting creature to behold.

"What do you suggest we do to change that?"

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Almost abruptly, the dance came to a close. Reinette's gaze shifted from Jack to the orchestra, wondering what new sort of music they had chosen to plan. Until it occurred to her she simply had not been paying it proper attention.

Which of course meant she was distracted. She looked back to Jack.

Hardly surprising.

She forced herself back into the moment. As other couples began to fall from the floor, Reinette chose that moment to cut the space between them by half. Her mouth was close enough to his own she could feel his breath on her cheek.

"Why should you believe I would wish to."

And with that she shattered the plane, extending her hand to lead him from the floor.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack's gaze didn't shift as the music stopped. He continued to look at her, observing more closely in the few short moments that she looked away. But when her eyes returned he made no effort to hide the fact that it was what he'd been doing.

The movement didn't make him falter or blink. As though he had prepared for it, or expected it.

"Why shouldn't I?" he countered with a confidence so strong that it couldn't be completely earnest, even if he made it sound as much.

He took her proffered hand without pause, and none too tightly he clasped his fingers around hers and nodded for her to lead the way.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette was accustomed to people looking at her. Seeing was another matter all together. And most unsettling of all, was the suspicion that Jack saw deeper than most.

He had old eyes, Reinette concluded as she lead him from the room. Those that watched them leave would believe she required privacy. But the truth was that she was weary of sharing every facet of her life. She only had one great secret. Perhaps it was time that she acquired some more.

She lead them down the hall to one of the more secluded sitting rooms, a firing anchoring the largest of the walls. It was smaller and less opulently decorated than most. But in the daylight it offered and excellent view of the gardens, and Reinette favored it.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

As they cross the threshold to the room Jack pauses and quietly clicks the door behind them closed.

Privacy.

Not for anything specific, and though his movements could easily be read that he had a goal, he didn't. He merely wanted to learn more about this woman, and he'd rather do that without the presence of those he was less interested in.

"Nice," he said as he stepped forward and regarded the room. "So am I interesting yet?"

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

"No," she replied easily. "Not yet."

Her smile shifted into something more pointed.

"I am not so easy as that."

Around them, the room was utterly silent. Even her own breath was restricted by the tight laces of her corset. It settled over them both like silk and it stretched to the point that compelled one to break it. It was the sort of tension that became physical.

Reinette chose to focus on the silence, rather than answering its call. In doing so, she became aware of its wrongness. She would have recognized it the moment she entered if not for the distraction in front of her. Her attention immediately shifted to the decorative clock on the small side table.

Broken.

"Where are you," she demanded.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

The silence in the room was not one Jack was used to. Silence was something he had long avoided and avoided because in its presence he could do little to avoid his mind wandering. He didn't like his mind wandering. Thoughts of what he was looking for, what he'd lost. His mistakes. In the Hub he'd filled those silences with an old cracked record or the focus of a drip of an old pipe.

Here the silence made the voices in his head almost deafening. His memories wouldn't leave him alone.

For that reason then, he was glad when here voice shattered the glass that seemed to hold him within his own mind, and he turned his head to look at her. Very quickly, though, he realised it wasn't him she was addressing.

He tried to catch up, quickly. Her gaze was on a clock, a broken clock. But there was still ticking, and more than that she seemed more than aware and familiar with the situation. His back straightened up even further and he spoke in quietly demanding tones.

"What is it?"

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette strode over to the windows, already pulling back the heavy drapes closed to keep the cold of winter at bay. She did not even spare a glance for Jack.

"The monsters of my childhood that seem unable to recognize I am a woman grown."

Of course it would be the very last window. She could feel its presence even before she threw the heavy fabric out of the way. Perhaps the Doctor was right. Perhaps they were connected.

For a moment they were locked, her eyes within its non existent ones. An then its bladed arm shot forward in a familiar attack.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack watched at first. Watched with an intense curiosity. His surety that she was familiar with the situation seemed to be confirmed by her actions, and he stood back, arms hooked together behind him.

Stood back that was until Reinette revealed the masked figure behind the curtains. He didn't advance at first, he watched and tried to evaluate. But then, as the weapon sprung forth so did he, like a released Jack in the box.

He stepped forward and held an arm out between her and the creature, demanding with his movements that she step back so he could advance. From somewhere concealed he unsheathed his gun and levelled it directly at the creature.

"You know," he said with a tone of voice that was businesslike and strong. Captain Jack Harkness full force, "It's customary to use the front doors and not the windows. And I'm not much for the whole 'pay no attention to the man behind the curtain thing either, sorry."

But it was... ticking... still ticking. And what was that? It sounded like... no, it couldn't be.

"Jeanne-Antoinette," he called behind him, "you okay? You know these things?"

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

"Know them? How could I not know them. They have shadowed my steps since I was a child and they shadow them still."

Her gaze tilted slightly, but no. The tick of clockwork brought no one else with them. She refused to be disappointed. So many years had passed now, and she had grown accustomed to facing them down on her own.

Which meant she refused to stand idly be behind Jack. She stepped around so that she met level with his shoulder. Her gaze flickered to his gun. It stood as full proof of his strangeness.

"Behind that mask is a man of clockwork. And it ceased to haunt my sleep long ago."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

A man of clockwork?

His eyes moved to her face for just a moment, his own etched with confusion. But it couldn't be. This was the 18th Century, not the 51st! He listened to the ticking, that old familiar ticking, and he glanced down at the weapon that stuck forth, robotic and unmoving. Little cogs stuck to the end of it and blades turned.

"... No way!" he said, sounding a little like an excited teenager.

He lifted his hand and pulled the mask and wig from the head. What he saw behind it made him grin from ear to ear.

"Oh would you look at that," he said in awe of the clockwork droid in front of him. "Now what you're doing here I don't know. Nice clothes by the way. Bit elaborate for something like you but still... nice."

Turning his head back to Reinette he questioned. "You say you've seen these things before?" It didn't add up. How could it possibly be here. "And what do they do? Just watch you?"

Already he was stepping to the side and putting his hands on the droid, manhandling it to the side to reach the back.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette was so startled by Jack's reaction to the creature that she felt the confusion lip to her face. She did not even bother to mask it.

"Jack," she directed, briefly concerned. "Watch its --"

But the arm was already trained on her again, the sharp, grinding motion now hauntingly familiar.

"They follow me," she finally answered. "Search -- me. They reach into my memories while I sleep. When I was a child the experience fashioned itself into odd dreams. I am not ready yet."

She looked to the cold glass face again.

"Or so they say."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

What she said didn't add up with what he knew of the droids. he loved these droids. He had one in his house. So did all his friends. He'd once got told off by his Dad for taking theirs apart and modifying it (even if it did make it function better).

"They search you?" he said, his own confusion as obvious as hers. "Hey less of that!" he said in annoyance as the arm swung in her direction. "Really."

Behind it, Jack was already lifting the coat and un-tucking the shirt at the back. "Access panel," he explained without really explaining, "just about... here," he tugged and shifted and a piece of the glass came loose, allowing him to reach into the winding cogs and gears.

"And if I just..." he twisted his fingers against one of the cogs, "...if I can remember..." was it the one on the left or the right? It was the-- no, that one there.

He tugged on a cog inside, shifting it slightly from its position. Soon after all the other cogs slowed to a stop and the droid slumped forward, turning itself off.

Withdrawing his hand he held a small brass wheel between his fingers.

"There we go!"

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

She watched Jack's actions with undisguised fascination.

Even as her mechanical shadow slumped forward Reinette was making her way around it in three even strides, coming to a stop just before Jack.

Her eyes drank in every detail of him.

"You, sir, just became interesting."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack shifted to a position that was far too casual for the clothes he was wearing. He stood, one arm leaning against the shoulder of the shut off droid, the other against his hip.

He was excited. He used to love these machines. He even built his own mini one from scratch from a bunch of rejected parts his dad had brought home in a box. A little mouse that went round in circles.

As she stopped and spoke, the smile that was already on his face tripled in size. He was quite obviously very pleased with her declaration.

"Good," he said. "Took long enough."

Straightening up, he reached out his hand and held the cog towards her. "The key," he said. "This thing's nothing more than a big toy. Nothing to worry about."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

"You act as if that were somehow my fault," she quipped lightly, despite the present circumstances. "I am not to blame for your own inadequacies." Her smile was the only evidence of her teasing intent.

Reinette extended her own hand, aware of the places Jack's skin met her own as she accepted the small cog. If felt warm withing the palm of her hand, the very opposite of the chill outside. She turned it over once, then twice. Sunch a small thing to take down something so large. It seemed they had the potential to be the same after all, despite her denials.

"We are in no way the same."

When she closed the space between herself and Jack this time, it was in no way a game or entertainment. Her free hand moved to brush his cheek, seeking understanding.

"Did he send you?"

She had seen, in his mind, his ability to change his features the way others might change clothes.

"Or are you him?"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Inadequacies?" Jack repeated with a smirk and a raise of an eyebrow. "Well that's a new one." He was rather confident of the fact that in many ways, he had no inadequacies.

The hand on his face didn't falter him, but the question did, a little.

"Did who send me?" His face etched into a frown. "Who are you talking about?" Quietly demanding.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Her thumb traced over his cheekbone in a long, even stroke. She was feeling for what rested beneath.

Her palm then replaced it, fully resting against his cheek. He was warm, almost dangerously so. Reinette's mind was flooded with memories of cool skin pressed against her own.

They were not the same.

"The man from my fireplace," she explained, risking the truth to the air. He would leave soon, after all, and it would not matter. "The Doctor."