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.

Comments

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Then what is it?" he said back. Was it that he didn't wish the subject to drop? Anger? A plea? Maybe a little bit of everything. His tone certainly leant towards that, asking, shouting, pleading.

"You tell me, Reinette. Because I don't know."

He didn't. And that, that loss, that loss of so much of what he was, was what made him just so nervous.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Her hand remained stubbornly on his face. Perhaps because he challenged her. Perhaps because it both seemed and felt important. Perhaps still because she simply did not wish to let go. Reinette was accustomed to knowing her own mind more.

Her only initial response was the gentle curling of her fingers against his skin. Subtly, quietly looking for her own answers.

She would be strong for Jack. Reinette was quite firm on that point and he deserved no less. But that did not make in infallible.

"Neither do I."

It was honest. Far more honest than she intended, and not even disguised as something light or flippant. But truthfully she did not know. And had she not just been demanding honesty between them?

But knowledge did come then, quick and fast if of a different sort. And completely unexpected.

She had to kiss Jack, then.

Not want to or wish to. Or kiss him because the game -- or tricks -- between them demanded it. She had to kiss him. There really was not a choice. Her fingers still beneath his chin pulled him closer by degrees so that Reinette might meet him to lift her mouth to his own. It was a great deal more than the kiss on his sofa the evening before, for all that it was a great deal less than many other embraces they had shared. But as her mouth teased gently over his own it was not the act that defined the kiss, but the thought behind it. That she had to.

Reinette pulled back then, sensing perhaps for all that it was unavoidable in her eyes it still was not the ideal moment. She disguised her own thoughts with a smile.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

There was nothing that Jack was expecting. That alone, perhaps, was unsettling enough. He liked to have a grasp on things in certain situations, and even if only a loose one, it was a grasp.

He was looking for answers? For reasons? For something even he really didn't know.

And he found it, but then again, not where he was expecting.

He found it in her lips pressed to his, and it was startling, and the reactions within him were mixed and polar opposites of each other. He wanted to pull back. It felt so much more. The touch felt just that little more, the lips against lips and how they brushed, the way they parted and moved. He wasn't ready for it, and so a hand braced against her arm tightened and very nearly pushed.

Pushed. Until it pulled.

And he held, and he responded, because just as much of him wanted to do that too.

And when it ended, he looked at her, and there was eye contact where there had been none.

He just smiled.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

It was not precisely the reaction she had anticipated. At least in the few moments after the kiss that she had allowed herself to consider anything of the sort. Certainly his response had not been any part of her initial decision. It had been not that thought through. Far from it.

It should have been concerning.

Yet it was far from it.

Perhaps in was the unexpected sight of Jack's smile, and Reinette returned one one kind. It felt strange, but for once she did not allow herself to dwell on how she must be wearing it.

Nor she she speak at all on what occurred.

Instead she brougth her hand from Jack's cheek to meet the other neatly in her lap, matched. Her tone was warm, but brisk.

"Well, then."

There was another day to be faced.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

And then, like that, the eye contact was gone. He glanced down, and the moment had been just that. His eyes shifted away and down.

A moment. Brief, perhaps, but a moment nonetheless.

"Right," he said, and tapped his hands against his legs.

"I should get food. Some clothes for you. Bits and pieces. Stuff to get us by. You'll be alright if I go out?"

He wasn't entirely feeling as though he wanted to go out, but then he often did a lot of things he didn't want to.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette caught her lower lip with her teeth to keep from expelling any sort of breath or sigh. Anything that might be an audible reaction to how she felt watching Jack shatter the eye contact between them.

And still, she smiled.

She was concerned at the idea of Jack going out alone, to whatever the world had shaped itself to be now. She had purposely kept him all but isolated in the past two days, and wherever he went she could not imagine that would be the case. It would be a far cry to the world he was forced to survive the past fourteen months.

But Reinette also knew to point that out might be just as damaging. And so she was left to tilt her chin in brief assent.

"I believe I can manage," her smile still held fast. Her fingers suggested the photographs. "I can put these away."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack tapped both hands against his thighs again, it was like punctuation somehow.

"Good," he said, and he made a point not to look to the photographs even as she gestured out towards them.

"Should go get dressed," he said, affirming it more than anything. It shouldn't be such a big step, but somehow it was. That step forward. That step to dressing as Jack. To maybe being himself.

He stood then and moved quickly towards the door, turning only briefly back towards her with a nod.

"Won't be long," he said, and he headed again up the stairs.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Her chin tilted slightly again.

"Of course."

It was interesting that he did not consider his oddly finished current clothing to be dressed, when in actually it was still most likely considered far more so than her nightgown. But still it was not dressed.

Reinette was not inclined to disagree.

She watched Jack leave, and for a long moment her eyes remained on the empty doorway. Only then did her smile consciously slip away. Bringing herself back, Reinette carefully returned all of the photographs to their box. She did so slowly, with the respect the obviously deserved.

It was possible, of course, that Jack would play his familiar game and reappear over her shoulder mere seconds from the present. But somehow she thought that would not be the case.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

It took quite some time to get ready. To get changed. Time that Jack didn't really measure. A shower a little too hot and a little too long. Time standing in front of a mirror, gazing for more time than required.

Measure by measure, bit by bit until he could get there.

Get there and then be, over an hour later, heading down the stairs, dressed. Dressed as Jack. Grey trousers, deep blue shirt and light grey braces over his shoulders. He had a jacket too. A jacket, but not his coat. Something light, a khaki colour.

He brought himself around, standing again in a doorway. He cleared his throat.

"Will I do?"

And while the words had a passive air. He meant them.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

She had moved back to the main living space, standing against the window and watching as the waves crashed against the cliffs. The wind was high and the surf especially violent. And yet no crash was ever the same, and there was no motivation to pull her gaze away. Each time was something new, something to be learned.

Reinette was uncertain how long she stood so, the breeze still slipping in from the open window. Long enough to taste salt on the back of her tongue.

At Jack's voice she turned.

Like Jack, he had asked before. Did he look like Jack. Though the words were not the same this time, the question still felt dangerously close. A slight misstep in any direction --

Accept in this there was only reaction, brief and natural. If not a smile then warmth touched her features all the same and brought with it truth for company.

"You will do."

Any more than that and he might have distrusted the answer. The old, familiar teasing filled the space where those words might have been.

"Of course why you sought my opinion I am not certain. I am the woman still wearing her dinner from the previous evening."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack just looked at first. Looked as though he wasn't quite sure if he'd hear the answer he wanted to.

But he did, and he softened by degrees. His shoulders relaxing somewhat, and his face a little more of a smile. And in the process, he somehow wore his clothes a little better.

"Oh sure," he said, looking back up at her, a soft smile still on his features. "But I mean, you wear it well." He winked then, just briefly, and his eyes glistened in a way that was a flash of who he'd been. Who he'd be again.

"I'd offer to take you for a drive, but that dinner looks so good on you might just get a little jealous if anyone else got to clap eyes on you. Think I'll keep that for me."

He moved towards the door, scooping keys up off the side.

"I won't be long. An hour, maybe two. Feel free to do whatever you like. Use the TV -- um, that box thing. There are books in there too."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette felt some of the tension in her shoulders uncoil at the sight of Jack's smile, and even more? That her soft attempt at teasing was met and returned. If it was not the same initial energy they had traded back and forth at first meeting it did not seem to matter.

And she was not aware of how carefully she had been carrying herself until now.

"They would not be looking at me, Jack. Rather the large stain on my gown." She finally smiled, gaze flickering towards him again. "And then again there would be my company."

Words he needed to hear? Perhaps. But that did not make them true. He could hear them now, and feel them later. She was prepared for that.

"I think I will eschew the box in favor of a bath, if that is all right. Though perhaps I will find a book afterward."

Reinette glanced at the door.

"Go on. I shall manage."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Oh that's what you think," Jack said, looking back to her. "Trust me, I know where the eyes would be, and it wouldn't be on the stain."

His smile twisted though, a little more genuine.

"I'll have that," he said. "But here. And I'll be back. And you'll still be here."

He looked again to the door, and as though on her command, he left through it, clicking it gently into place behind him.

And so Jack was out. Outdoors in the fresh air for the first real time. With his faculties together and able to truly realise it. He was free now. He could be himself again. And he would now, because he had to.

He drove off in his convertible aston martin car; drove to the nearest town a fair distance away. He had no intention of taking his time. He had no need or inclination to do so. And so he didn't, he merely did what he had to, shopped for food and for clothes. The latter task being more difficult. He didn't really know what to buy a woman such as Reinette for general wear. So he settled for buying far too much. A little bit of everything, from jeans to skirts to trousers, tshirts and blouses and jumpers.

It was at least enough for her to wear until they could go in together and she could pick for herself.

So work done, and the fact he wasn't too comfortable with it all pushed firmly aside, he made his way back to the cottage.

When he arrived it was a good four, almost five, hours after he'd left. He pulled up on the gravel drive outside and began unloading the car.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

At his words, Reinette remained where she was near the window. There was little question that she would still be there. But she also knew what it meant to walk from a room and return only moments later to feel a presence gone. Jack knew as well, she thought. And though lightly said the words still had weight.

So she stood there, even if he could not see. It was not waiting, Reinette told herself. Rather a point made.

After some time she moved to the small but serviceable bathroom that would serve as her own. There was nothing about it that might make it unique. Truly the only room in the home that seemed to be so. But it had hot water and soap and towels. And afterward a robe.

And in between she was able to lose herself to the quiet and the heat. She stayed until the cold forced her away.

Reinette was able to find a small brush that did well enough, and she returned to the long sofa to brush her hair dry. She chose a book afterward with genuine intent, but as she settled back onto the long, low pillows it occurred to her she was still tired. The night before there had still been concern for Jack, as well as the quiet unfamiliarity of a bed that was not her own. The past three days felt a great deal longer.

So that like Jack before her she fell asleep, curled against the pillows with the book still resting in her lap.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack had far too many bags. Most of which clothing, but a substantial amount of it food. It still felt a bit strange, going shopping for food. Jack Harkness wandering around a supermarket. A little bit too normal for him. He never really did normal very well. He almost always expected a Weevil to jump out from behind the shampoo aisle.

It never did though.

Yet.

It took three journeys to carry in all the bags from the car, and he moved quietly as soon as he saw Reinette sleeping against the couch. It had been hard for her, he understood. The pain hadn't just been his own, and she'd had to see and do so much.

He kept as quiet as he could. Hardly stealthy, but quiet enough, and eventually he came around and perched himself on the edge of the sofa, not too far from her. He smiled at her, just to himself, and he reached out, tucking a strand of her hair back behind her ear.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

It was a reflection of her own exhaustion that the Jack of Jack moving to and from the room did not initially pull Reinette from her sleep. Wherever she was, it seemed to be a place she would not be moving from. There was not even awareness as Jack settled nearby, and her face tilted instinctively towards his hand and the warmth now. It was already well into the afternoon, and the breeze cutting through the window had grown cooler.

Still she did not wake.

Until, suddenly, she did.

It was abrupt. One did not grow up knowing the monsters under one's bed were real without developing a healthy suspicion of the unknown. It was merely natural. And the way the light filtered this particular space, the sent of Jack's sofa and even the fabric of the robe she wore where all unknown. Reinette pulled suddenly into wakefulness, eyes bright and alert.

It was only when they found Jack's that she began to will herself to relax.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Hey, hey." Jack spoke quietly and touched a hand to her shoulder as if to gently press her back into the sofa.

"Just me," he said softly. "Got you some stuff to wear."

He smiled at her then. Pausing just to look a moment. He realised it was nice. That somehow, looking at her had become a comfort zone. He wasn't sure when that had happened. At any other time, it might have unsettled him, but not now. He simply didn't allow it to.

"Nice day out," he said. "Thought maybe we could get you dressed, take you out for a drive. If you like, of course. Get something to eat, make a day of it."

He was striving for normal. And he hoped he could make it.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

At his assurance, Reinette felt herself ease slightly. Falling back into something just past sleep yet not entirely away. It was not a luxury she normally allowed herself. There was simple too much to be done and too many appearances that it was crucial she maintain. In the past year, her pace had only grown more frantic.

Even now her mind was collecting and reviewing what would be required of her in that day. Except that no, this was not France. Nor was this her home. And because of that she would have to rely on Jack for certain things, and what she could take on would be limited. It was both a struggle and a relief.

She was not certain which resonated more.

Reinette closed her eyes and when she opened them the sleep was fully pushed away.

"I would like that," the words came soft, but precisely. "Though if they are much like the fashions you procured before, I cannot imagine 'we' shall be needed. Despite your aspirations to be a lady's maid. I should be able to handle them on my own."

Reinette did not point out the amount of time she spent staring at the undergarments he provided for London, confused but refusing to ask for Jack's aide. It was neither here nor there in her mind.

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Hey!" Jack said, all mock affronted. "I'd make a great maid. Especially a French one. You know I've probably got one of those outfits somewhere..."

He shot her a wink, and he was sounding a little more like himself. It may have not been entirely genuine, but at least the lie was worn more easily. A step closer to it becoming truth.

"And actually, I got you plenty," he said, and he gestured to the ridiculous number of bags piled up against the side of the nearby armchair.

"Bit of everything. You pick."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

"And just what sort of outfit is that?"

Something in Jack's tone suggested to Reinette there was a strong possibility she did not wish to know, and so even before he could answer she was rearranging the robe where it was gathered as she slept and brought herself to sit and then stand.

She was somewhat taken aback by the amount of bags. And she was a woman accustomed to owning a great deal of clothing.

"So I see."

Reinette began to gather the bags by their various handles, but even then she could only hold half at best.

"This may take a moment."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Oh wouldn't you like to know," he said with an over-dramatic wiggle of the eyebrows.

He shifted as she did, stepping up and over, and just as she reached for the bags, he reached for some too. He could be chivalrous. Sometimes.

That, of course, and he wanted to feel he had a use again.

"Here, let me," he said, scooping up more than he could really manage, just to prove a point to himself. He took the bags, and carried them into the bedroom.

"There's a bit of everything. Must be something you like in there."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

It occurred to Reinette that she held at best a third of the bags that Jack did. And even then it did not seem quite that. She sent him a sharp glance, but did not comment on the matter, choosing instead to follow him into the bedroom.

Still scattered with various oddities the only entirely free space was the bed, and so Reinette deposited the many colored bags there before turning her attention to Jack once more.

She very nearly said thank you before recalling their conversation the evening before.

"I have no doubt that is true." She glanced around again, briefly before ger gaze tilted towards his. "How could I not?"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Mirroring her, Jack dropped the bags down to the bed before smacking his hands together, somewhat triumphantly.

He didn't leave the room after that though. Instead he leant himself against a wall, arms crossed over his chest.

"You sure I can't watch?" he asked, smirking slightly. It was like he was trying on his own clothes; seeing how they fit and if he could wear them as well as he hoped.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette did not move from where she stood, the brightly colored bags around her creating the suggestion of an oddly assembled garden. But she did smile, and almost dangerous tilt to her mouth.

"Are you certain that is all you would do?"

The smile tasted strange on its inception. Not because she feared it no longer suited her, that she was somehow changed. Rather it had been a long, long time since she had shared it with anyone. Something just past a year.

But then, because Jack could think she was in any way implying something else?

"After all these are now considered my clothes, are they not? And we must consider your personal vendetta against my wardrobe. I would hate to see them damaged so soon."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"No," came Jack's response. One word, singular and laced with an intent (or at least a reach of one).

It was hardly suave or smooth, and nor was his next move, but it was reaching. Him reaching, the need to be himself and to prove to himself and the world that he could be.

Because that's what his whole day had been: proving. Proving he could go out. Proving he could do all the normal things he knew he was fully capable of. And proving now, he could be 'Captain Jack Harkness'.

But he wasn't there yet. He wasn't there yet, but he wouldn't listen.

He took a step over, and another, standing behind her so that the back of her robe touched against him. His hands moved out, touched her waist. It wasn't unpractised or anything but smart. But it was imprecise. Not as natural as he could be.

"How about I help you with that," he said, his fingers curling around the towelling rope wrapped around the robe.