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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[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack took deep breaths as he tried to recover and get a sense of himself again. He was aware, somewhat distantly, that he'd pulled Reinette down with him, but it took him a few more deep breaths before he could address that fact.

That done though, he gave her hand a squeeze and looked to her with a nod. "You okay?" he asked, filling his lungs with the fresh sea air that came in through the cracked open windows.

He was aware then of the space around him, and he turned his head a little to take a look. His cottage, the little place he had hidden away on a Welsh cliff top. A small stone building and the place he'd come when he'd decided he needed Earth as much as he'd wanted to run. It was small, but it was his, and it was where he'd been those months he went away from her, and those little times he'd zipped away. The last time he'd been here, of course, being merely two days before he was taken away. He'd come for a shower.

With a slight wince, he pulled himself from the floor to standing, the sheet pulled with him, and he nodded. "Welcome to Wales."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

She did not need her eyes to tell her they were somewhere utterly different that her rooms in Paris. The smell of salt and birds in the distance. The light was different as well, soft and unfiltered.

Reinette closed her eyes and will the slight nausea that always come with such travel to pass as she listened to the sound of Jack breathing deeply. After a moment she followed suit.

Even though it was just Jack, there were still appearances to be maintained. She carefully rearranged the tangle of her nightgown at her feet so that when she stood she in no way embarrassed herself. Then she gathered Jack's coat and brought herself standing once more.

"First London. And now Wales. I might call myself a traveler now."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

As Reinette readjusted her clothes, so too did Jack with the sheet, as if he were a little more aware of it. A mark of just how he noticed her. A good sign, perhaps, that he still did.

He nodded, just briefly. There was no smile. His sparkle had gone, and it would take some effort to recall it, but he looked to the window and back to her.

"And not just travel in distance," he said. "You're in 2011. Long way from home."

He looked then down at the sheet and back up, let out a slight breath.

"I should go... clean up." As well as he might have been cleaned, he didn't feel clean. "Make yourself at home, I'll be right back."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

It still felt as if someone were pretending to be Jack, and doing a fairly poor job at it. Dressed up in him perhaps, but not quite capturing the man she knew. It was not fair. Reinette was aware of that. And she could not help but think on her own part of it.

But it was still difficult to see.

But no more difficult then his words, so casually said, were difficult to hear. He would be right back.

Of course.

Reinette made no comment, and worked to keep her features in careful repose. Her only movement was to smooth the lines of Jack's coat. Her gaze met Jack's briefly, encouraging. Her words mirrored her thoughts. There was a small smile.

"Of course."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack lingered, just a moment. A space with no words or anything, as though he was waiting, but not for anything he could specify. And then he went. Turned and made for the stairs, up and away.

He was alone then. Alone but not really, and he went to his bedroom and quietly shut the door. When in there, he breathed in a way he had seemed to have been holding back. Not sure why, and not sure how, but it came with a flood of emotion and then it made sense.

The emotion was there, brimming on the top, and he held it back then. Held it back as he dropped the sheet to the floor and quietly walked into the bathroom. He stood, staring into the mirror, looking at himself now and trying to see through the lies his body outwardly told to see the damage of the last 14 months. It wasn't there of course, but he could still feel it. He could feel it all, inside and out, and though a death might make it look renewed, it wasn't.

He took himself into the shower, under water that was a little too hot. It burned his skin but that didn't matter, it felt good. It was cleansing in more ways than one. While in there he leant himself against the wall, closed his eyes, and finally allowed that emotion forth.

He cried. He cried then, and cried for some time, the tears mingling with the water of the shower. It all hurt, but it had to come out, and this would maybe be a start.

It was half an hour or more before he thought to emerge, coming out and wrapping a towel about his waist. He wondered then if it were a good idea at all that he'd brought one of France's historic women to a little house in Wales while he was anything but himself. But then he found he still struggled to mind.

His room had clothes, and not just the same he always wore, but for now he dressed in a simple deep blue towelling robe. He took one more look at himself in the mirror, and he headed back downstairs.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette remained still for sometime after Jack departed, though she would be hard pressed to say why. Perhaps it was the sheer exhaustion of the past day had simply taken its toll. Or perhaps it stretched even further back, to the unrelenting pace with which she had attacked her life in the past year.

But it was unlike her to remain still for long.

She moved to drape Jack's coat on the long, low sofa that dominated the main living space. The soft scented sea air seemed to suit it. Almost immediately her gaze was caught by the coastline that cut across the horizon. Reinette stood and watched the waves, listening to the sound of Jack moving above her. The sound of rushing water seemed to extend forever.

She was concerned, of course. But it was that same concern that allowed him his space.

Which allowed time for her own natural curiosity to take over. She remained away from the room Jack obviously occupied, but explored the rest of the upstairs before returning to the living area once more. The smallest thing caused her to lose time. The way an object was fashioned, the clean cut pages of a book.

The kitchen was by far the most captivating, including what was obviously designed to keep food cold. Gooseflesh ran up and down her exposed arms every time she opened the door. That was interesting enough, of course. The chill. But then there was the matter of the light. She was fairly certain it was only bright when the door was opened, though she had yet to catch it in the act.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

When Jack arrived downstairs the lounge was empty. He moved the few steps to the kitchen and stood where he could see Reinette just a few steps away doing what appeared to be opening and closing the fridge door.

He smiled, just slightly.

"Having fun there?" he asked quietly before stepping over towards her.

"The fridge," he said, gesturing towards it. "Keeps food cold. Not that there's probably any food in it. Hadn't really thought as far as that." Which considering how hungry he was, was really quite stupid.

He stood behind her then, fighting with an internal urge to reach out and touch her shoulder. For now, it didn't win out and he merely stood there.

"Need anything?" he asked quietly. "Sorry I didn't really have anything ready for you."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

She was so intently focused on defeating the light in question that for a moment -- only a moment, truly -- she was distracted to the point she did not hear Jack come down the stairs. She actually started at the sound of her voice, the door swinging closed with more force than intended.

"Jack," she managed, admirably controlling the surprise in her voice. Of course the word itself was not entirely relevant to his conversation and most likely gave her away all the same.

Reinette turned, silently vowing that she and the 'fridge' would meet again. And soon.

"There are a few items inside. Though I as not entirely certain what they are. Or, in one particular case, what it was.

She took in Jack's damp hair and blue robe. It was an odd, in between sight of dress. She knew him both with clothes and without, but this was something else. Reinette felt herself smile.

"I am not that particular. Surely there is no need to make a place ready for me everywhere we go?"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"What?" Jack said with all the mock shock he could muster. "You mean to say that Madame du Pompadour herself wouldn't want each and every detail meticulously planned? Best cancel those three weeks of engagements I had down for you then. I'll call the Queen and tell her your busy. The prime minister can wait."

It was an attempt at teasing. Practise really, at being himself. He wasn't sure if it exactly hit the spot but it was a start.

"So should I give you the grand tour?"

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette's smile continued at Jack's words the only indication that his words might have had a different result than intended the slight curling of her fingers where they rested at her side.

He was right, of course. Her all but commanding need to plan. A precise need to be in control. Something that had only escalated in the past year. Louis might have no longer needed her in certain, basic ways. But that would not keep her from remaining invaluable to him.

And all the while, Jack had been in prison.

She pushed that firmly aside. He had asked a question, after all.

Even if she had explored, how Jack viewed his home was surely different. And what he would share with her unique. Reinette nodded softly, perhaps even less precise than she would be wont to.

"I would like that a great deal."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Right then," Jack said with a nod.

He wasn't, sadly, the best tour guide, and so his 'guided tour' would surely lack quite the flair it would if given by just about anyone else.

"The kitchen," he said obviously, pointing out the space around them. "All essentials. Fridge --which you've seen-- cooker, microwave, all that sort of thing."

And then he stepped away, back to the lounge, and old habits died hard, he expected her to follow.

"Lounge. Sofa, TV --I'll have to show you that-- basic but comfortable. Pretty much all you need. Second bedroom is through there," he pointed to a door at the back of the lounge, "bit of a mess though, wasn't really expecting guests. I'll clean it up for you. Upstairs is me, bedroom and all that."

A sudden realisation then, and he frowned, "I don't have any womens clothes here. I'll have to get some sorted for you."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette bit down on a smile at Jack's brisk, almost terse description of his home. Truthfully she had already seen a great deal more through her own explorations. What he labeled a mess, of course, she had all found to be rather fascinating.

Still she followed, taking in everything that was said.

Her fingers feel to rest on the cool leather of the sofa, savoring the feel of the familiar fabric. For all the design was both simple and immense, it was still tolled with something that she knew. And in that it proved an anchor.

Not that Reinette would ever admit to needing one.

At her last words she smiled. Soft and unexpected, it sat on her features unaltered. Very nearly amused.

"When you inform a woman that you do not have clothes lying about that she might wear here and there, implying that countless have come before her? It is not an all together bad thing Jack. There is no need to look so distressed at the idea."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack looked to Reinette, for a moment, like he might be confused. But then that confusion melted away to something more amused, and his head ducked down with a smile that was likely his first completely genuine one in over a year.

"Yeah well, they haven't," he said, still with that smiling. "Just you."

A brief pause.

"And no men either."

Yet another small pause, and he looked at her, his expression soft.

"Sure you want to stay with me?"

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Her own smiled remained held and firmly in check as Jack's initial confusion sat between them. But then it faded into something else, and Reinette felt her breath catch.

A smile. Jack's smile. And for that moment the correct person was wearing Jack's body. It seemed to her that the blue of his robe now suited him all the more.

Reinette's smile grew, unrestrained.

Men or women, ultimately it did not matter to her in that moment. How could it? They might examine one other. Push and pull and even strip the other bare, both intended and not. But actual judgment was rare.

Her chin tilted up at a sharp angle, lead by her smile.

"Surely you know enough of be Jack, to know that I would not be here if I did not."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Something in Reinette's smile only seeked to widen his own. It was warm, and he couldn't pin reason to it, but whatever it was he was glad that it had been caused.

It made him feel a little less tired.

But as she spoke he thought, and as he thought he very nearly worried.

He shook his head as he looked at her, but was utterly honest with her too. "I don't have a plan," he said, looking slightly lost. Because he didn't, no plan, no idea of what he ought to do. No adventure or direction, and he always tried to have that. There was always something.

"There's just me. Just here."

And his tone hinted perhaps that he was unsure if that was enough.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

She had the most absurd urge to place one hand on either of Jack's cheeks and to memorize that smile. It suited him so. And then there was the idea that should he ever lose it again, she would be that much better equipped to help his rediscover it.

But she did not. Instead her brow knitted slightly at Jack's sords.

Not just because she heard them. But because she understood them. What it meant, behind a great deal of confidence and bravado to suspect that there was a very real possibility one might be enough. Yet what she might question in herself? Was all to easy for her to dismiss for Jack.

She did reach for him then. Not skin, but instead one hand moving to rest on his chest. The pale of her skin gleamed against the blue of his robe. It was a settled weight, one that suggested it was quite content as it was.

"You have shown me wonderful things Jack, taken me to some amazing places. But that is merely where I went to. You are the person I went with. And by my measure one is far more important than the other."

Her tone was light, but clear.

"You. Here. The word 'just' hardly seems applicable, I think. Some things are not meant to be measured in such a fashion."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

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."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Her eyebrow arched at Jack's words. They almost registered as a promise. She had no doubt that what he promised would be fascinating. But right not it was far from her focus.

Reinette openly examined his features now, not shying away from the emotion that sat there. She did not speak to it, but to ignore it all together would feel false. And something Jack would immediately recognize.

As for the rest?

There was another tilt of her head, brief and slashing however softly done.

"Hush, Jack."

It was easier to say his name now, she found. Before it had served as a reminder to them both who he truly was. Now it felt genuine, and she was fully addressing him.

"You would not hear those words from me and more than I would from you. Can we not simply agree that it is there, between us, and move on?"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack, again, found himself smiling. Barely really, but still there; the smallest twist of a smile. He ducked his head slightly, almost nodding.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said softly.

A pause then, as if, just as she suggested 'moving on'. And then he gestured out towards the sofa.

"Shall we sit?"

Without waiting for an answer he moved to the comfy couch and sat himself down. On the coffee table in front was a glossy menu for a pizza place, he reached forward and picked it up.

"So shall we order in?"

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette's gaze continued to follow Jack closely, as if to assure herself this absurd matter of thanks was truly at rest. Whatever she witnessed seemed to satisfy her, and she followed Jack around to settle onto the long, leather sofa.

It was larger than she was accustomed to, and while soft the leather was cool beneath her skin. She could feel it through the fabric of her gown. Reinette wondered if she was not here, if Jack would have claimed this space the way he seemed to claimed a bed. Sprawled across it, feet resting on one arm.

She smiled at the picture it presented.

Hands resting in her lap, as if they were still sitting in her salon Reinette tilted her head towards Jack.

"I defer to your great knowledge in this matter."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack watched Reinette as she sat, and he couldn't help but be amused at just how out of place she looked. More now than when he'd taken her away before, she stuck out like a sore thumb as someone who was from simply elsewhere.

From beside him on the couch he picked up a cushion and dutifully threw it at her.

"Relax," he said, "it's a couch, it won't bite." He went on, teasing, "You do know what a couch is right. I'm sure we did that lesson."

For a moment he was utterly himself there, cheeky and referring to past encounters, and then it seemed to catch up with him, like he noticed it, and he glanced down, it fading away.

He cleared his throat and reached for the phone on the table. "I'll order a selection," he said, and he dialled to make the call.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

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.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

If Jack forgot himself for a flash of a moment before then he forgot himself for a whole pause now.

The phone was disconnected and he dropped it down to his side on the couch just in time to receive the blow of the cushion smack against his face.

It was a shock, but one that was met with an immediate laugh, and he turned to her, his shock now mock as it was written all over his face.

"Oh you did not just do that," he said. "Well you know what this means; this means war."

And at that he threw it back yet again, a little like a child at play, and with it, came another, this time tugged from behind him. His body twisted a little towards her, slightly more open in posture.

Slightly more Jack.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette was still somewhat slow to fully grasp just what this particular exchange was traditionally meant to resemble. She was almost startled to hear Jack's laugh, however lovely the sound might be. She felt almost a tingle of frustration towards it.

She understood intent. Cause, and effect. She could not precisely even pinpoint why he was laughing.

A pillow was just thrown in the direction of his head.

And Jack, impossible man that he was, was laughing?

"Not to put to fine a point on the matter, but you started ---"

Her statement was cut short by the soft strike of another pillow to her face, muffling her final words. Reinette only just managed to deflect the second blow.

It was sheer instinct that followed. A base need to be superior to fabric and down and the man throwing pillows at her and Reinette felt herself returning them with even more force than before in Jack's direction. One quickly following the other.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

If the action itself wasn't amusing enough, Reinette's reaction was even more so. She seemed, Jack thought, utterly shocked. And not the mock shock that he'd displayed, but genuine full on shock.

Of course that fact only made him continue. Continue until her throwing grew a little more skilful and with greater force.

He ducked himself down away from the onslaught of cushions, still laughing.

"Okay, okay," he said, "I surrender, you win."

And he looked up and over at her. Smiling like this almost hurt. It had been so long and the memory felt distant. But it felt good.

His laugh faded away, but his smile didn't, and looking at her, he nodded. "I'm glad you're here."