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 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."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

For several moments the battled continued, pillows arching between them and the only sounds when their weapons made contact. Reinette did not precisely understand how she got there.

Wales, yes. Jack's home? Certainly. There was a rather unforgettable man with a remarkable bit of leather at her wrist and as a consequence of one meeting the other, they were here. But a pillow fight? She still did not understand.

Still, she applied herself to it as she would apply herself to anything else.

Her hair was mussed and her gown askew one more and she suspected she might have broken a nail when it caught on a bit of fabric. Yet at some point, there was a small possibility she might have begun to enjoy herself.

Only possibly.

"If you let me win," Reinette gathered her breath as the battle ceased as quickly as it began. "Then you and I will have to have a discussion."

And then her brow knitted as she absorbed the rest of her words, and Reinette sound that both of her hands each wrapped around two corners of the largest of the pillow, swinging at Jack's side without releasing it.

"And that? Sounded dangerously close to thanks. We agreed."

She, of course, was glad as well.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Let you win?!" Jack replied with an incredulous tone. "You're kidding right? You were going to bruise me with those things!"

She wasn't of course, and his overreacting was all part of the fun.

He braced and lifted an arm to shield himself as she hit him with the pillow again, and he let out another small laugh.

"Hey now I said nothing of the sort," he said, "I think that was just another excuse to get one last shot in. I see right through you, Madame, I know your sort."

He dusted himself down, as though he needed to, and nodded.

"Just you wait now, in your sleep, first thing, bam. When you least expect it."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

"My sort," she echoed, incredulous. "The sort that does not allow herself to be ambushed with pillows? Yes, Jack. I am precisely that sort."

Still, Reinette finally laughed then. It was soft, and still slightly unfinished and unstitched. Something she was trying on, much like the battle from moments before.

As Jack righted himself she took a moment to do the same. Her nightgown smoothed down and returned to its proper place. The worst of the tangles on her hair brushed down. To the outward eye, the battle might never have taken place.

Her gaze narrowed at his threat.

"I will sleep without pillows," Reinette decided blindly, reaching for the most obvious answer just as she had reached for ammunition moments before. And when that logic was flawed? "I will hide yours as well."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Oh now that's not fair," Jack said, and followed it up with words that really? Were incredibly sharp. But then he didn't hide things, not like that, and not with her who knew, he'd rather make a joke out of them.

"take away a guy's pillows!" he said, "I haven't had pillows for 14 months and you want to take them from me now!"

He let out an indignant sort of huff. False, of course. Staring at her with a mock solemn expression, but then that dissipated too, a smile taking its place.

"Careful," he went on, "or I might have to just say thanks."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

She was glad then, that she had taken a moment to right herself to moments before. It left Reinette better prepared to deal with the stark honesty of Jack's statement. It did not matter that it was edged with humor, or that the words ended as quickly as they began.

They were still there. They were still true. And they were both aware of them.

For some reason, in that moment, it felt like enough. Perhaps Jack was right to speak of it then, even in slightly bright humor.

"Careful," she met him in word and tone. "Or I shall have to make you stop."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Make me?" Jack said with the raise of one eyebrow.

There was only the briefest pause before he spoke his next words, and if a decision to say them had been there, it was one made swiftly.

"Sounds dangerously like a challenge to me."

He smirked, just slightly then. Actually smirked, a proper wicked sort of expression that fit on his features as though it were meant to be there.

"Of course," he went on, gesturing towards the cushion in her hand, "I've learned your tactics."

Though it wasn't entirely clear it was the cushion that he meant.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Her smile angled itself, sharp yet oddly suited to them at Jack's words. A challenge. There was no way they could ever pretend the previous fourteen months had not happened. But in that moment they did feel further away.

The actress flickered into play then, for a moment her features utterly and completely innocent as Reinette met her companion's gaze.

"My tactics?" She glanced at the pillow. "Need I remind you who ambushed whom?"

And then innocence flickered, and the mask was set aside. Something eased into its place. Teasing and familiar, at ease with Jack even if not completely with this place.

"And yes. Make you." Reinette smiled. "Now I must think. How would one stop your mouth from uttering ridiculous things like 'thank' and 'you'?"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack's smirk had become a firm feature of his face. His eyebrow was still raised as if held by a magnetic force.

"Well I'm sure I've got no idea," he said with all innocence. "But you're a clever woman, I'm sure you'll think of something."

There was perhaps a degree less forwardness than he'd usually have. No leaning forward and shifting his piece on the chessboard they played on. No dramatic move to check mate, simply a shift of a pawn. But it was something, and almost? Almost like he was asking her for help. Under those layers of laughter and smirks. Asking her for help. Helping him be him.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

It was there, between them still. The thread, whisper-soft and then and all but impossible to see. And though they did not speak of it, it still sat loose and pooled. Which might be unremarkable excepting for the taunt pull of it that had existed between them from almost the moment Reinette and Jack met.

She had accepted its state, and was prepared to address it later. But there it was. A quiet tug, a subtle pull. Reinette might not understand pillows as weapons or mysterious lights in cold boxes. But she did know this.

She hardly moved, but Reinette picked up the thread all the same.

"I could, think. I suppose."

The distance between them closed, an act she asked him to take no part of. She yielding, placing herself fully in Jack's space. Her only nod to uncertainty was to place a careful, quiet hand on his chest. Again she noted the way her skin contrasted against the blue.

"Or I could not."

Reinette lifted her mouth to his own. It could hardly even be called a kiss. Just a touch of her lips to his, warm and present.

A touch.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack wanted this. He wanted him, he wanted familiar. He wanted something to bring him back and ground himself and to make him feel like he oculd continue to be himself. But at the same time, he felt nervous. He felt almost worried, and his heart raced faster than usual as she leaned towards him.

She hadn't required that he move, and so he was thankful of that. But still he wanted to be him and not a shell, so he did what he could, and he edged towards her slightly, his eyes blinking closed as he returned the touch.

His hand reached out too, and that touched gently to her arm where she held her hand to his chest. He let the kiss linger a moment and pulled back, head ducked slightly.

And again, like before, he spoke with almost raw honesty.

"Getting there," he whispered and smiled a slightly tight smile. He suspected she'd know what he meant.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

They held there, somewhere in between.

Something altered to just more than touch. But still somewhat less than a true kiss. It allowed Reinette to notice the smaller things. The sweet, salty taste of his mouth when unaltered by wine or a meal. The heat of Jack's breath as it escaped and mingled with her own. The thrum of his heartbeat just beneath her fingertips.

She was able to soak in his presence. Jack was there, she was certain of it. A realization he should soon come to as well.

Her face tilted back to a more conversational distance, even as her hand remained pressed lightly against Jack's chest with his hand over her own.

"I must confess I am curious to see exactly where there takes us."

A quiet, but unmistakable reminder. Jack was far from the only uncertain one here. He was not alone.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack didn't drop his gaze or shy back. It took a little effort, but he remained in place, watching and listening, to both the things that could be seen and heard, and the things that couldn't.

She spoke and he smiled. Smiled a personal sort of smile and dropped his eyes down a little. There was a comfort in it somehow. Neither one of them was alone here. In any sense of the word.

"Oh come on," he said softly, "I know it's been a while but don't tell me you've forgotten already?"

And he drifted his hand from her arm to touch his forefinger lightly under her chin and lift it just a touch before brushing his thumb to her cheek and returning his hand back to her arm.