Hands folded perfectly in her lap, and posture rigid and precise Reinette was in no way prepared for the the pillow that went slashing through the air. There was no real force to its arch, but it still caught her squarely on the chin.

Every line of her posture shattered out of sheer reaction, her expression for once utterly unguarded and hair still down from where it was washed the next before only that much more askew. For a moment Reinette could only blink at the indignity if it.

Had that man just thrown a pillow at her?

Truly?

"The couch does not need teeth," Reinette managed then, still righting herself. "You have quite enough of them."

Her implication was shaded only slightly different than Jack's own, not referring to before? But to now. The pillow, and her head.

Reinette made a fine show of smoothing her hair and the front of her gown as Jack spoke into a small rather remarkable device and seemed to reach someone through it. She could not even be bothered to get lost in the fascination of it. She watched him, gaze level and thoughtful. And when he was done?

The pillow launched with no small amount of force in the direction from which it came.