Reinette remained still for sometime after Jack departed, though she would be hard pressed to say why. Perhaps it was the sheer exhaustion of the past day had simply taken its toll. Or perhaps it stretched even further back, to the unrelenting pace with which she had attacked her life in the past year.

But it was unlike her to remain still for long.

She moved to drape Jack's coat on the long, low sofa that dominated the main living space. The soft scented sea air seemed to suit it. Almost immediately her gaze was caught by the coastline that cut across the horizon. Reinette stood and watched the waves, listening to the sound of Jack moving above her. The sound of rushing water seemed to extend forever.

She was concerned, of course. But it was that same concern that allowed him his space.

Which allowed time for her own natural curiosity to take over. She remained away from the room Jack obviously occupied, but explored the rest of the upstairs before returning to the living area once more. The smallest thing caused her to lose time. The way an object was fashioned, the clean cut pages of a book.

The kitchen was by far the most captivating, including what was obviously designed to keep food cold. Gooseflesh ran up and down her exposed arms every time she opened the door. That was interesting enough, of course. The chill. But then there was the matter of the light. She was fairly certain it was only bright when the door was opened, though she had yet to catch it in the act.