for ambitious_woman The Bastille

[quitehomoerotic]

Relaxed.

Relaxed was something Jack Harkness rarely felt. In fact the concept of relaxation seemed an alien one to him. But yet here he was, that was how he felt. The muscles in his body were looser than they'd felt in far too long, and pains that had held there through stress and worry had, at least for now, melted away to nothingness.

It was morning, and he opened his eyes to a world he'd come to find he liked. A place that while it was nowhere that he belonged, he'd been surprised to discover that there was a space for him. A welcoming space with a welcoming face. He wasn't sure if it was something he deserved but for once, for a time, he wasn't going to worry about that.

When he woke, beside him he saw Reinette sound asleep. It made him smile and he pressed a delicate and small kiss to the skin at her shoulder. He stayed there a moment, just smiling and watching, and he whispered to her, "I'll be right back."

And so he rose from the bed. His intent was to find food. He'd take a morning walk, just a short one in the pleasant summer morning that he could see filtering through beyond the window, and then he'd venture to the kitchens and procure themselves something.

His clothes were near, and he dressed in them, item by item and then his coat (as if he'd go anywhere without it), and out into the corridors and halls of Versailles he went.

He wasn't on his guard, of course, why should he be? Short of clockwork what need he worry about right now? And really, should he encounter clockwork, he'd merely turn it off. No, here he felt happy, he felt safe, and so that guard he had learnt to keep up, was down.

And so it was his downfall.

He found his way to the rear gardens, nodding politely to footmen on his way (people that usually he made no effort to even acknowledge). But they had noticed him. In fact they had noticed him long before he noticed them. They had been noticing him for quite some time. They had noticed him in gardens and they had noticed him behind closed doors. And Jack had no idea.

And he wasn't prepared.

Entirely unprepared for the troupe of guards that met him in the gardens. It was as though they had been waiting, as though they had sought him out (and they had, of course). And as strong as Jack could be, he was not prepared, and so he could do nothing when he was met with a blow to the head, and another blow that knocked him to the ground. Another and another until he felt metal shackles on his wrists held behind his back and a tear of fabric between his lips to quiet his shouts.

And he was taken away.

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[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette recalled all too clearly how long she sat on the floor of Versailles, waiting for Jack to revive. Now he was implying this would be longer. Quite possibly a great deal longer. But she also remembered the force of her own reaction. As she recalled the time from before, when she was far younger. How the memory caused her to pull away.

Jack's expression as she did so.

"Or," she countered briskly, an edge of emotion to the single word. "I might not."

Reinette would not be leaving. And there was no one to make her do otherwise.

She focused on the small, precise actions required of her. Measuring out the poison. Stirring the tea. Carefully lifting Jack's head so she might offer it to him. She felt removed from herself. Not quite a part of what was happening.

"Belladonna, Jack. Nightshade. It can be done gently, if measured correctly."

Why that seemed so crucial she did not know.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack let out a breath. No point in attempting to argue, he knew. What good would that do? And so he didn't. He just blinked slowly.

"Yeah," he said, "I suppose you might not."

And there was very nearly a smile on his lips for just how stubborn he knew she was.

He helped her assist him in his movement (not that he had a great deal of choice in that), and he sipped down the tea with some difficulty. When done, he flicked his eyes towards her.

"It won't take long then," he said. And as much as he could? He squeezed her hand. It was barely anything really, but the intent was there under a movement of fingers.

"It'll be okay," he said.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Precisely Reinette fluffed the pillow beneath Jack's head and straightened the sheets about him. Not that it mattered, truly. But again it gave her something to manage. Something she might accomplish, however small.

She listened to Jack's words, a ghost of a smile on her features as well.

Her touch was light as her hand returned to his own, noting Jack's touch. he met it with gentle, careful pressure of her own.

It would be all right, he said.

"I imagine that it will."

They were not the sort to entertain any other option.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

He had been right, of course, when he had said it wouldn't take long. He was weak and tired already and before he closed his eyes he whispered to her gently, "Take the necklace off."

It seemed to wear it now would prove only counter productive to his efforts to kill himself.

And so he closed his eyes and waited. Waited it out for what he hoped would come and soon. And no, it took barely any time at all.

It was like sleep, at first; drifting out of consciousness to somewhere deeper. And then further than that as it took him. The gentle grip his hand held at all fell away as his hand dropped to the side.

And he was gone, and all that there was left to do, was wait. Wait as his body did the work and repaired itself. It would take all night to do so.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette carefully removed the necklace from about Jack's abused chest, letting the chain pool on the small table that rested adjacent to the bed. It seemed much, much cooler to the touch.

And then she held his hand until Jack was gone.

It was far less abrupt than her previous two experiences, which only provided more time to think about just what was happeneing before her. And about Jack himself. His fingers eventually became ice in her own, and a glance told her there was no breath left. Just silence.

Sitting there, alone in the dark with Jack so silent only reminded her just how much of the day she still wore. That would have to be addressed, and before Jack woke. She would not let him do so alone.

Calling two maids Reinette retired to the bathroom in what was designed to be Louis' rooms when he visited. She suspected her own bath would have to be removed and replaced, which truthfully she could not mind.

There she removed her stained and ruined gown, ordering it to be burned. She scrubbed her skin with soap until it was painful and raw, favoring cleanliness over scented oils. Her hair would take some time, and it would have to be watched closely to make sure nothing from the hole took root. She could cut it, she supposed. Most women did to fit them under the elaborate wigs they favored. But Reinette counted her hair as one of her vanities, and selfishly would see it saved.

It was a ridiculous thought in that moment. She forced it aside.

Dressed for bed, Reinette once again ordered her staff away and returned to Jack. He had not moved. And he did not move. Not for hours, and hours still. The adrenaline that had coursed through her own veins slowly left her, even at the strange sight of Jack's body slowly repairing himself.

She was exhausted, and the practical side of her nature told her that she needed rest to be of any assistance to Jack. But at her core some part of her was completely unwilling to leave.

So she compromised. The bed was larger here, far more so. It allowed her to join Jack there, above the sheets to his below and still leave a respectful distance between him. She did not know if he could still feel pain in the state he was in, but Reinette refused to risk it. Only one hand remained touching his own.

And then she slept.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

It was a process.

The slow heal that his body needed. Nothing at first, and then the universe seemed to wake around him; it twisted time and reality and everything between to make him live again. Though it would take time. It was nothing visible at first, but then it started to show. It repaired the cuts and lesions on his skin, shrinking them away until it was as though they'd never been there to begin with.

His muscles were next, rebuilding and expanding. His body grew a little as though he were being inflated like a balloon. Bit by bit by bit, he filled out, bone covered by flesh and fat to shape his body back to something it ought to be.

It took hours in total, and there was nothing in him aware of it happening, nor anything in him aware of the sleeping woman at his side.

It continued through the night.

The tufts of hair on his head fell out and replaced themselves with fresh strands, growing quickly and somehow shaped in the style he held those 14 months ago, continuing until he had a full head of hair, just as it was.

And then his skin, the weak and pale pallor replaced with something slightly warmer. Not completely, of course, but more alive even when dead than he was while awake.

And as the new day was dawning. He woke.

Just a breath, and not a wrenching one as it often was, but a small intake, and his eyes opened.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

She slept, but lightly.

Even exhausted she could not completely abandon her thoughts of the man that repaired himself next to her. Several times through the night Reinette awoke, her eyes immediately settling onto Jack in the dark.

She saw small moments of the story as they were spun together. Each time she woke some small portion of the Jack she knew had returned.

The final time Reinette awoke it was to an intake of breath that was not her own, somehow soft and quiet. Her hand remained in Jack's own, and at least for this small moment she seemed willing to wait.

Wait for him to fully wake, and come out of the moment.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

For a moment Jack did nothing but lie there. He kept his eyes n the ceiling and blinked another couple of times. There was clarity in his eyes now, he could see where before there'd just been a cloud. His mind too had been just as cloudy, and though he could recall the hours before he died, it was distant and dreamlike.

He tried to remember. And so he did, he remembered being taken, he remembered the bath, the remembered Reinette.

Reinette.

He felt it then, her hand still in his, and he was hit by a sudden awareness of how she'd seen him, of how he'd looked. And she was there, seeing him now.

And then, like he'd been plugged back in, his head turned swiftly towards hers.

"Reinette."

He spoke her name softly, and just breathed, just looked, he could see her now. And then, mere moments passed, and he sat up sharply (an act that still hurt every muscle he had, still repairing even though he'd been brought back), and he slipped his legs over the side and turned his back.

He couldn't bear her seeing him.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Her gaze was there, wide and steady through the dark as Jack's eyes found her own. She met it unblinking, silently attempting to remind Jack of her presence.

Each time before, Jack seemed to reach for connection when he woke. Some unspoken part of it seemed to crave it. And now, finally understanding what his body went through Reinette was fully prepared to be there for him.

Which only made her all the more confused as he pulled away. At first just physically, withdrawing his hand. But then a more complete effort, fully turning his back on her. Practically removing himself from the bed. She did not understand.

Until the moment that she did.

Pride was something Reinette was all to familiar with. She had a great deal of it herself. More than was perhaps healthy. She suspected Jack was the same. But she stood firm that this was not the moment for it.

"Jack," she said his name softly. Yet another way between them. She navigated the tangle of sheets to rest on her knees behind his back. One hand reached out to palm the skin there. Warm where just hours before it was cold. And then her arms, both of them, moved to wrap themselves loosely about his chest. She did not make him look at her, instead her cheek came to rest on the back of one shoulder.

"Jack."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Facing away from her, Jack dropped his head down. Tired, his body still felt worn. If he concentrated he could almost feel the places where it was still mending.

He could hear her moving, feel the bed shift under her pressure, but even then he wasn't prepared for her touch.

It wasn't that he didn't want it. Anything but. In fact he craved it, to feel alive, to feel anyone or anything. But then pity wasn't something he wanted, nor the recollection of how she'd dealt with him the evening before.

For a moment his muscles shifted under her touch. He reached his arm up, like an almost instinct reaction, and he covered his hand over hers. But then suddenly, as though he'd been burned, he pulled back again, flexed his shoulders.

"Don't," he said weakly. "I can't."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

She held her breath as Jack reached up to take her hand. Only to feel the tug as he pulled himself away, shattering the tentative connection. Reinette make no outward objection to it. Her breath held steady and soft.

Her hands did not go far, drifting slowly to rest on either side of her with fingertips just catching the sheets. The actual presence of her body remained close to Jack's. He had not gone so far asthat. Ultimately, Reinette remained no further than a single intention of touch away. It was a delibrate decision. Where Jack was ready? She would be there.

Her fingers curled deeper into the sheets to prevent her from pressing him to hard. But she did speak, a point soft but clear.

"Only you just did."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Tightly, Jack closed his eyes. He did, she was right, he did. But how could he?

"You shouldn't be here," he said, though not cruelly. She should be in Versailles, she should be part of her time line, not here, not with him. He who'd placed himself so strongly in her timeline when he never should have brushed it at all.

He tried to move again then, to step up, and he did, but his legs faltered and he slipped almost immediately back down to the bed. He hadn't the strength for it.

He took a deep breath out then. He was still aware of her presence, how it seemed to move the air behind him, and then, finally, he looked back to her.

"Thank you," he said.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

"And yet I am."

It was the simplest, most direct to his statement. Even if he did not require one. In many ways it echoed her previous one. He did not think he could touch her, only they just had. Jack thought she should not be here, yet here she was.

It seemed the obvious answer.

Reinette's hands lifted from the bed to rest on her legs, curling tighting there to prevent her from reaching out as Jack stumbled. She was uncertain of a great many things still, but a few seemed clear. And bracing his fall in that moment? Reinette suspected it would hurt more than it would heal.

She could feel where her nails cut half moons into her skin through the fabric of her gown. It was the only evidence of the tension her body carried. Everywhere else was smooth, and relaxed.

She said nothing to his thanks. She was a great part of what had caused this and the words did not sit right with her. Instead she merely met Jack's gaze, her own warm and unwavering.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack made no response to Reinette's comment. He was well aware she was here, well aware if not for her he'd still be rotting away in that hole under the ground. Well aware that she was the one who'd cleaned his body and helped him through.

He was well aware.

And so he watched her, thoughtful. And then seemingly from nowhere he made a decision, and he said quietly.

"I have to go. I can't stay here." And only the briefest of pauses. "Come with me."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

It occurred to Reinette then, they were asking a great deal of one another without ever once asking actual questions. They were instead statements, only just managed as said with the trusting expectation that the other would be able to understand it.

It worked, between them. Though Reinette would be hard pressed to say precisely how.

There was a small, precisely managed moment of quiet. Some might think it would be more flattering if one rushed head long into his offer, seeing no other way but that. But Reinette knew Jack would understand. That she was carefully considering everything, just what it could mean.

Yet she still chose him.

"Yes," she answered, the tension in her hands abating slightly.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Though it seemed almost like it would have been impossible, and though it was just as much a surprise to himself, Jack found himself smiling. It was only small, only gentle, but it was a smile nonetheless.

"Thank you," he said with a nod.

He'd come a long way now from the man terrified to even touch her timeline. But then the last year had taken its toll on him. In his mind he assured himself he'd bring her back. He'd have her back and nobody would ever be any the wiser, no matter how long she was gone.

His head turned back again. He looked to the window and it seemed impossibly far away. He still felt tired, still ached, and the bed was what he needed, he knew that. And so he let himself shift back, pulling his legs back up, and moving in the bed to lie back again, the sheet resting gently over him.

His eyes flicked towards her.

"How do I look?" he asked.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

At the sight of Jack's smile, Reinette felt one of her own settle across her features. It was small, and caused part of her to ache. It occurred to her how little she had smiled over the last year. Some of that -- most of it -- could be attributed to the exhausting pace she had chosen to attack life. But some of it sure was Jack's absence.

She wondered what he would think, if she told him that.

"You really must cease with those words, Jack," she said then, referring to his thanks. "I am not going to acknowledge them."

Part of Reinette expected Jack to catch them up then and leave, just as he said. She fully understood if he never wished to spend another minute in France. But instead he made a fine attempt of taking over her bed in the old, familiar way. She shifted to allow him to.

"Like yourself," Reinette answered, her fingers moving to push back a few strays hair that spangled on his forehead. "Like Jack."

Only, not quite.

"Except..."

Reinette carefully untangled herself from the bed, moving to a chair that sat on the far side of her room. She shifted a large bungle of grey fabric aside to find something smaller and just as familiar. Returned to the bed Reinette came to stand against the bed, near Jack.

She lifted his arm, placing a careful, quiet kiss to the top of his wrist before returning his wrist strap where it belonged.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Inside, Jack's heart beat a little bit faster. He was tired and his question, as casually as it had been posed, was an important one. He knew of course, logically, that he would look exactly as he always did. But that didn't quite sit with him, not after the year he'd had.

His eyes flicked up to Reinette's fingers as she brushed his hair back. He was incredibly aware of it, and more so than usual, but he made no effort to stop her or to draw back.

"Like Jack," he repeated on a long breath out, settling his head again against the pillow.

He soon looked up again though, watched with a furrowed brow as she moved away and back again. Watched and the realisation dawned on him. He let her take his hand, let her buckle the strap. Like every other touch, he was so much more aware of it. But this was good. He felt less naked, less withdrawn. A little more protected.

He glanced sideways towards her and nodded. He wouldn't say thanks again.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette watched Jack settled into more of himself, the effect soft and subtle. She was glad he abandoned the need to thank her. She had already sorted out it was indeed Jack that made a scene in the palace halls that day. She should not have been so quick to explain the event away. To accept that Jack you leave so suddenly.

He had no reason to thank her.

"And there is a bit of grey fabric to compliment it as well," she finally spoke, filling the silence. "When you are ready."

She realized then her hand still held Jack's, and Reinette's fingers laced with his own for a brief moment before guiding it back down to the bed. She placed it carefully there.

"You should rest now."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

His eyes blinked slowly, once then twice, and then glanced towards her. His coat. But no, he wasn't ready for that. Wasn't ready for the marker that it made him. The hero costume he decorated himself in. He felt a long way off that yet.

"Not yet," he said quietly, and thought maybe she understood that. Her of fans and layers and masks. She knew.

His eyes flicked again, and this time down to her hand. He watched and breathed a deep and heavy breath. Measured to keep an element of control.

"I'm fine," he said, "I don't need it," some sort of weak protestation. And it was good in a way that he could protest at all. It meant he wasn't quite ready to give up.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

When one favored masks, they could be especially difficult to discuss. All the more so when one was forced to interact without them. Reinette understood, all too well. Not only to feel week and betrayed by one's own body, but to also be exposed as well.

And so she purposefully misunderstood Jack's words, reaching for the gentle teasing they once favored.

"Not yet." The actress case just a hint of a confused light in her eyes as she echoed Jack's words. But only just. It would be inconsiderate to wear too many masks when Jack was left with none. The only thing she hid was the depth of her concern.

"What would you do with yourself instead?"

One finger traced along the muscles in his forearm with a gentle pressure.

It was nothing but words. If he followed her unmasked gaze closely enough Jack would see that immediately.

Reinette leaned in to press a kiss to Jack's forehead.

"Rest, Jack."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

It wasn't so much that Jack bristled, but that he was unprepared. Without his walls and his games he had no way of knowing if he could respond. Some inbuilt self depreciation, not even half as confident in himself as he'd ever make out that he was.

His eyes ducked a moment, half lidded, and then back to her. If she might notice it, she might detect the minute shifting of the muscles in his arm, tense and the forcing himself to relax.

He looked to her again and nodded, just slightly.

"Yeah," he said, and he even tried to smile.

He continued to look at her though, not closing his eyes or turning away. "Where should you be?" he asked. Because he knew, a woman such as her had a calendar that was rich and full, and there was little time for being secreted away with him.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette was aware. There were hardly moments when she was not aware. Communication came far too naturally between them, even now, for it to be otherwise. The few times they had genuinely misunderstood one another comprised a handful at best.

But she did not speak on it.

Instead choosing to meet his smile with a soft one of her own.

"I could be a great many places, I suppose. The list is both varied and dull. Where should I be?"

There was only one answer, and she reached for it between them.

"Here."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

As Jack looked at her, the corner of his mouth twisted into a slight smile. "I should know better than to argue with that, shouldn't I?" he said. And that was to say that while he might not argue, she should know the intent is there.

He looked up at the ceiling again, glancing to the cornices and to the walls and the intricacy of the patterns upon it. He noticed them more now.

And then, from nowhere, a realisation and a statement.

"You know what?" he said. "I'm starving."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

A task to do.

Her smile grew notably as she considered. Something less to do with Jack, yet entirely to do with him all the same. One less designed so that he might see it and be assured, but because something in his behavior assured her.

Here was something she could do. Something Reinette could manage, and accomplish.

She moved to sit just on the edge of the bed, adjacent to Jack. It was odd, considering she would soon be in movement again. Taking action. But she was weary of looking down at him. And Reinette knew the comfort in being on the same level as another, especially considering the competitive edge they both honed. It might not be at the forefront with Jack then, but she was certain it never left him.

"What would you like?"