"No," came Jack's response. One word, singular and laced with an intent (or at least a reach of one).
It was hardly suave or smooth, and nor was his next move, but it was reaching. Him reaching, the need to be himself and to prove to himself and the world that he could be.
Because that's what his whole day had been: proving. Proving he could go out. Proving he could do all the normal things he knew he was fully capable of. And proving now, he could be 'Captain Jack Harkness'.
But he wasn't there yet. He wasn't there yet, but he wouldn't listen.
He took a step over, and another, standing behind her so that the back of her robe touched against him. His hands moved out, touched her waist. It wasn't unpractised or anything but smart. But it was imprecise. Not as natural as he could be.
"How about I help you with that," he said, his fingers curling around the towelling rope wrapped around the robe.
no subject
It was hardly suave or smooth, and nor was his next move, but it was reaching. Him reaching, the need to be himself and to prove to himself and the world that he could be.
Because that's what his whole day had been: proving. Proving he could go out. Proving he could do all the normal things he knew he was fully capable of. And proving now, he could be 'Captain Jack Harkness'.
But he wasn't there yet. He wasn't there yet, but he wouldn't listen.
He took a step over, and another, standing behind her so that the back of her robe touched against him. His hands moved out, touched her waist. It wasn't unpractised or anything but smart. But it was imprecise. Not as natural as he could be.
"How about I help you with that," he said, his fingers curling around the towelling rope wrapped around the robe.