Upstairs, Jack took himself straight to his bathroom. He stood there, looking at his reflection in the mirror as though he expected it might start talking to him.

It didn't, of course.

He thought about the day; the little boy and what might have happened to him. He thought about the time gone and the here and now.

The here and now. And wasn't that what he should focus on?

Gently, he touched his hand to his own face. Still looking at his reflection and considering how he looked just a short few days ago. How he'd looked for so long. But that was gone, wasn't it?

He was Jack Harkness, wasn't he? He moved on. It's what he did. He'd done it before, he could do it again. And Reinette? Well, she hadn't run.

He looked down at the coat he'd settled over the sink, and with a decisive nod, he put it on. Put it on and smoothed it down as he looked at his reflection. And he smiled.

Another deep breath, and a few more moments of simply looking, and he was ready again. Ready to go downstairs, ready to move on.

Ready to be Jack.

"Hey," he called to Reinette, that wide smile still on his face, as he stepped back down the stairs. "How do I look?"