To say Jack was overwhelmed would be putting it lightly. For anyone to feel that he was enough, would be a lot no matter who or when. He'd of course, usually, be able to handle it well, brush it off and brush it away. But the fact it was now, with all he'd had, and the fact it was her, with who she'd been to him and who she was to the world at large (he couldn't ignore the fact she was Madame du Pompadour was quite important in and of itself).

"I don't--" he started, but he had nowhere for those words to go. And so he simply nodded.

Nodded and pointed towards the TV.

"Hey wait until you see this thing. It'll blow your mind."

But changing the subject seemed wrong, and so he looked at her again, nodded once more, honest, and whispered, "Thank you."