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 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.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Forget.

As if that were possible.

It was part of what made his initial disappearance so difficult. It was not that he left, or that he might have found that grand adventure she so recently suggested. It was not even that he might have run, as she once implied Jack might. It was that she remembered.

And more, Jack's direct involvement in that memory. This was not a thread merely pulled. This was woven and knotted and impossibly tangled as he was always inclined to do to her sheets.

She had not expected to share what she did that night, or that she would leave herself so exposed. Nor could she have anticipated his reaction. Of course, there was a strong change it was not what Jack was asking. The evening was not brief.

Reinette felt herself smile as Jack's thumb brushed her cheek.

"I choose to remember Jack, if you do not object. One is the act of keeping, the other the act of letting go. I find the former far more appealing. In any case, do I seem all that forgetful to you?"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack's answer was swift and utterly emphatic.

"You know you're not," he said, looking firmly into her eyes. Oh she knew. He knew she knew. He'd proved that, he hoped, in ways he could hardly imagine him doing again.

His mouth parted as if he'd say something else, but then the doorbell rang and he turned his head towards it. The pizza, of course.

"That'll be the food," he said, clearing his throat somewhat and moving to stand up. "Best get some money." And so he scuttled himself off to the kitchen to pull some from a drawer.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette stood as Jack did, something of the thread between them back at play. Not entirely, of course. Jack was correct on that point. But it was there all the same. The idea of not being on equal footing still compelled her to stand.

Her head tilted towards the door, somewhat confused why Jack had chosen to move away from it.

Smoothing the silk of her down and carefully navigating pillows that still rested on the floor and moved towards the door. She opened it to find a smallish man with blonde-brown hair and some unfortunate facial growth opening what appeared to be a large envelope and sliding two boxes free.

"Your pizzas..."

He placed them into her arms without any further preamble, and they were almost hot to the touch. She could feel the warmth pooling through her nightgown. A collection of some sort of cans was dropped on top of them.

"All right," Reinette finally managed, somewhat confused as to why he was not carrying them inside.

"Thank you."

There was cool dismissal in her tone as Reinette moved to close the door.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack was just retrieving the money from the kitchen when he saw Reinette in the doorway. Reinette in the doorway unceremoniously laden down with pizza boxes. Reinette in the doorway, shutting the door on the delivery guy.

"No, no no," he said quickly, brushing back his laughter as he reached out to catch the door.

"Here you go," he said, shoving £30 in the delivery guy's direction. "Keep the change."

The man looked confused, but took the money and nodded. Jack shut the door and let out a small laugh.

"Reinette, you gotta pay people. They're not servants."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

From over the top of the boxes Reinette could see Jack rushing to catch the door, his fingers just catching the edge. The heat on her arms was beginning to grow past pleasant to vaguely uncomfortable. She shifted slightly as the door shut.

"How was I to know. He never asked for money."

It seemed logical enough.

"I do understand the concept of paying for things Jack. I have not always lived in Versailles. Did you not read that is your books?"

She was, perhaps, smiling.

"I was once decidedly middle class."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"They tend to just expect it," he said, still a soft smile on his face, amused at the sequence of events.

"I'll take those, Madame" he went on, gently teasing as he lifted the boxes from Reinette's arms to take them over to the coffee table by the couch.

"Now I got two kinds," he said as he headed back to the kitchen and returned with a glass and a few sheets of kitchen towel. "help yourself to either. See which you like."

He opened one of the canned drinks and poured it into the glass for her, leaving it on the table where she'd previously sat, leaving the kitchen paper to the side for her.

"Bon appetit," he said, gesturing towards the boxes as he sat down.

"Tuck in."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette arranged herself back onto the sofa, the break between their exchange on it before and now only allowing for her more rigid posture and formality to return. It was her nature now.

If not for the pillows scattered on the floor, it might have been a figment of imaginations.

She hardly had a moment to somewhat dubiously study the glass before Jack indicated the box in front of her. Not to be found lacking, she opened it briskly, discovering that the lid flipped back.

It was rather like a pie, she thought. Or cake. It was even divided as such.

But there were no utensils. Surely she was not supposed to eat it with her fingers? Reinette glanced at Jack.

No, she amended. Somehow it seemed likely she was expected to do just that.

Carefully she pulled one of the pieces free.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack dived into the food as though it would disappear if he didn't eat it immediately. There were a few factors that lead to his eating style, of course. Mainly an archaic military sort of programming, to eat quickly and be ready. But largely, on this occasion, it was just that he hadn't eaten a full meal in 14 months.

He was more than a little peckish.

"You like it?" he asked around a mouthful of pizza before washing it down with a mouthful of coke from his can.

He doubted, to himself, that he'd manage much more than a slice or two. His body might have been reset, but then that didn't mean he would be used to eating much.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Through the corner of her eye Reinette watched Jack take his initial bite of food, confirming what she suspected. While his attention was elsewhere, she somewhat awkwardly managed to bring the collection of bread and sauce and cheese to her mouth, taking a delicate bite and chewing it fully.


It was not all together unpleasant.

Another carefully managed bite followed.

A glace at that point revealed Jack well through his second slice. She could not quite fathom it. There was another bite, small and measured. She had just swallowed it when Jack spoke, somewhat startling her.

Reinette had been far too focused on managing the foot in front of her.

As she started, part of her meal slid unceremoniously free, landing on the silk of her gown. Reinette stared at the result, mortified.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

At the end of his second slice, Jack was deciding that it would be his last for now. He was just reaching to place his can back on the side when from the corner of his eye he saw a mass of cheese and meat fall towards Reinette' s lap.

He thought, perhaps wisely, that laughing wouldn't help. But still, it was hard not to.

Quickly, he reached for one of the kitchen towels and pressed it against her gown.

"I'll get it cleaned," he assured her, "it'll come right off." And he glanced down, really having to hide his amusement.

"Takes a bit of getting used to, right?"

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

It was one thing for her to be so undignified as to fail to manage her meal. It was quite another for Jack to actively take note of it. Reinette felt hot color come to her cheeks as he reached to blot the stain on her gown.

Her fingers itched to press his away, but on some level she recognized how inopportune that might be so instead the caught on silk as she willed them not to move.

"Truly, Jack." Reinette closed her eyes briefly on the idea that when she opened them this particular embarrassment might have passed. "It is fine. It is just a gown and I suspect hardly suited to this place anyway."

Reinette reached past him to place the food down, not accounting how awkward it might be. She only wished to prevent any more incidents.

"And I will master it soon enough."

That was directed towards her offending dinner, now matter how pleasant it tasted.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Well maybe it doesn't," Jack said, "but it's suited to you, so I'll get it cleaned anyway."

He might have taken her out of her time, far away, but he didn't expect her to be anyone other than her, and he wouldn't take everything from her like that.

He leaned himself back into the sofa then, relaxing somewhat.

"Tomorrow," he said with a nod, "I'll go out, drive out and get you a few things to wear. Just a couple of outfits, then you can go to the shops and pick some more for yourself. I can take you out if you like. See the countryside."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette nodded slightly, the action brief and precise. She was privately thankful he would see that her gown was cleaned. She was particularly fond of it for no particular reason she could discern. But it was why she had chosen it the evening before while Jack healed.

There was something about it that pleased her, and put her at ease.

Some words of thanks very nearly passed through her lips before Reinette recalled her own instance they put such words away. So she swallowed them down.

"I would like that." She reached, then, for humor to distract from her own unsettled feeling after once last glance at the stain. "Is a bin bag among the current fashions of the day?"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Comfortable.

The sofa was very very comfortable. Ridiculously so, really. Perhaps that was just in contrast to the circumstances he'd lived in for so long, but either way, it was rather pleasant.

He settled into it and because it was comfortable he allowed his eyes to drift closed.

He was aware of her speaking, and was even certain he was going to reply, but then by the time she'd finished, he wasn't altogether there, and instead of reply, all he did was make a muffled noise in the back of his throat.

He was already asleep.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

She had thought herself to be rather witty. But instead of the sound of Jack's laughter, Reinette found herself greeted with silence. Followed by even more silence. She turned to better see his expression, and any mild irritation she felt fell away as she examined his face in repose.

Jack, it seemed, had chosen that moment to fall asleep.

She could not fault him that.

Reinette sat for several moments, considering her options. She could always explore more. Jack's tour had been brief at best. She could eat more. She did take a moment to try the beverage Jack had presented her with, and did not bother to disguise her grimace. He was hardly awake to see.

It was then that it occurred to Reinette she was exhausted herself. She did not sleep well before. Despite her knowledge otherwise, there was no disputing the fact that however briefly Jack had indeed been dead.

She stood, taking a moment to gather Jack's coat and place it carefully over him like a blanket. The windows were still slightly open and the air was growing cooler. Then she left him to rest, making her way through the boxes and various stacks that peppered the second bedroom. The majority of the bed was clear, enough to allow her to easily slip beneath the sheets.

Then she too slept.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

It was an hour, maybe two, when Jack opened his eyes. The room had grown dark but there was still a light breeze through the open window. He blinked a few times at first, confused as to his surroundings and his location, but then it soon dawned.

He wondered, for a moment, where Reinette was. But then logic caught up and he was certain she must just be asleep. Were he more awake, he'd have deemed checking an important issue, but as it stood he was still mostly asleep, and so he could do little but drag himself from the sofa, leaving his coat in his wake, and carrying himself up the stairs and to his bed there.

As soon as his head hit the pillow he was fast asleep again.

Fast and deeply asleep. And though usually he might have woken as soon as light began to filter through the closed curtains, this day was an exception, and he slept long and deeply.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette had fully understood the depths of her own exhaustion. If it was simply a reflection of the past two days with Jack, or something deeper and aged fourteen months she was not entirely sure. But when she finally woke, her room was fully lit with a strong morning light. It was well past dawn.

She wondered then how Jack was, and how he had passed the evening. She sat up briskly, intending to check on him. But her foot caught on a small box at the end of the bed. She vaguely recalled navigating it when she fell asleep the evening before.

It tumbled to the floor then, overturning. Small bits of paper scattered everywhere. Paper like she had never seen. These were not paintings, carefully orchestrated portraits. These were real. There was nothing planning in them. They seemed to catch the people within them at the most absurd moments that were both honest and compelling. At times vaguely uncomfortable.

And scattered amongst them was Jack. As she had never seen them.

Reinette went so far as to forget herself as to settle onto the floor, the paper scattered about her like a fan as she looked over each one in turn.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

After waking, Jack moved lazily. He found himself some clothes; just jogging bottoms and one of his darker blue undershirts, but clothes nonetheless. A step further than standing around in his dressing gown, at least.

His limbs felt a little slow, but he tugged them into response, and he took himself downstairs to find Reinette.

He didn't, however, find her where he expected. And so he moved from the lounge to the second bedroom, pushing the door gently aside to stand in the doorway.

The last place he expected she would be was the floor.

"You comfy down there?" he asked, vaguely amused. But then he frowned, and realised what she was looking at.

His voice dropped to a whisper. "Where did you get those?"

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette was so lost in the images she did not initially hear Jack approach. But something in his tone sent her eyes immediately up in search of his own. What she saw there did not ease the vague discomfort that had been pooling in her core for some time.

Whatever this was, whatever they were? It was intensely personal. That much was clear. Her fingers closed over one image that contained Jack and two other people.

She also battled the need to apologize.

"The box was on the bed, I believe. I knocked it over accidentally."

She did not look away from his gaze.

"What are they?"

She might have been inquiring of the physical images, or the people within them. It was difficult to say.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack paused, at first, for a while that was almost too long. Just watching, just staring. He hadn't opened that box in quite some time.

"Photographs," he said eventually, still in that soft voice. "They're like... moments, captured on paper." His attempt to explain was vague, his attention was elsewhere.

He stood there a moment, before his decision was made, and he stepped forward and shifted down to the space beside her, down to the floor.

"My team," he said, adding a little more. "They're photographs of my team."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

She did not think he was looking at her.

It was mostly suspicion, as it was difficult to discern from her angle on the floor. But was particular with his gaze, and one could not help but feel it when he looked at someone. This was almost, but not quite.

The moment shattered as he moved to sit on the floor next to her, and she was vaguely aware of his odd dress. Something else that was less precise.

"Photographs," she tested the word quietly.

And then she took several of the pictures, and spread them carefully out before both of them. For a woman that did not like cards, it seemed oddly similar.

And a gamble of her own, after a fashion.

"The ones you spoke of, before."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Yeah," Jack said with a soft nod, "yeah that's them."

His face was sad, and for a moment it looked almost like he might cry. But then that faded and there was a smile instead, but a sad sort of one.

He reached his hand forward for one of the pictures. It looked almost formal, posed. They were all in it, the camera set up on a timer. Ianto, Tosh and Gwen sat on the couch that had been pushed forward, and Jack and Owen standing behind it.

"Here," he said. "This is us." And one by one, he pointed out each of them. "Owen, he hated that about as much as I did. You can practically see him trying to get away. I think there's another shot somewhere where he'd walked off. Tosh, oh she was a genius. Ianto..." his voice trailed at that, and then cleared before continuing, "And Gwen. She took all these. Forced us into it."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

"She wished to remember."

Reinette was not entirely certain where the statement originated from, as her fingers continued to trace the edges of the photographs. She could not say any more, or even be precisely certain what it was the other woman wished to capture. But she did know that.

She wished to remember.

Reinette glanced at Jack, her gaze soft, before looking back at a particular picture. Her next sentence was incomplete and quietly encouraging.

"Ianto..."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Yeah," Jack agreed. Nothing more than that; one word, agreement. Yes, she did. He could understand that.

He wanted to remember too.

Almost as much as he wished he could forget.

But Ianto. He'd spoke to her of him before, though it was in nothing more than passing. Discreet and nonchalant. But it wasn't the truth of it.

"When he died," he said quietly. "As he was dying. He told me he loved me. He asked me not to forget him."