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]

"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.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

"No," Reinette echoed, fully prepared to continue to trade the easy word. She had just moved to examine the first bag when she was aware of noise and movement behind her, and the feel of Jack's body and the length of him pressed against her back. For a moment she closed her eyes. This was a part of her life that had been allowed to fall dormant in the time after Jack left. Because initially, that was precisely how it seemed. He had left for, how had she said?

A grand adventure.

She felt no need to take someone to her bed to prove a point. It was not that way between them. So that in the end month was layered onto month and the last time anyone had been so close to her? Other than Louis' single fumbled attempt at a physical renewal of their relationship some ten months before was the night that followed Jack's day.

"Intriguing, because that does not feel like no, Jack. It feels like yes."

She had not said his name enough, she thought. Since coming here. She needed to say it more. He needed to hear.

And so she was at a crossroads. To reject him now would be detrimental. Reinette knew that. To fall into it without questions could all too easily be read as false, or pity. She would have to be natural, even if this necessarily was not.

The truth would have to be somewhere in between. Reinette turned slowly, white fabric catching where he stood close.

Her fingers reached to splay over his own where he held part of the robe.

"Just one bit of fabric. Hardly a corset. I can manage, I think."

Her gaze flickered upwards.

"What else might you help me with?"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

He could kiss her, he thought. He could lean in and kiss her. Kiss her lips or her neck and put the demand and the command and the 'Captain' into it.

But this was Reinette. And as she looked at him, she looked at him. It was very nearly unsettling.

He was reminded, for a moment, of a time in a hotel in wartime London. He was there then, for a second, shaken from his stance now and then both times at the same time.

And then he was here.

Should he back down? Realise he made a mistake. Too heavy handed. And he didn't know how not to be. No-- no that wasn't right. He did know how not to be, but he just wasn't being. He wasn't there yet.

But he wanted to be, and that was a good sign, wasn't it?

He wanted to be, but he knew too she deserved more respect than he'd shown her in that movement. Maybe if she'd been anyone else, he wouldn't have cared. Maybe he could have used someone else as a tool, a way of bringing himself forth.

Not her, she wasn't that.

And so his head ducked down a little, and his voice spoke soft and apologetic.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have."

He faltered.

But it was worth noting: he hadn't moved back.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

She watched him, and she ached.

Physically ached, if not in the way that he did. But that was it, was it not? She knew that ache, Jack's ache, intimately. To be lost somewhere within one's body. To have it never fully do as you would have it. To always battle that sense of loneliness not because you are standing in a world of strangers but lost within one.

And all the while it is yourself. And all the while you cannot even manage a proper conversation because the words never quite meet. It never fully connects. And the world feels colder still.

It was never warm, that feeling. She could feel it spreading to her core.

Still she traveled carefully, but precisely. Her eyes lever left the space where Jack's would be when he finally looked up again. Of course he did not realize that in bringing his head downward only brought his face that much closer to his own. Her chin tilted slightly, so slightly. To remind him of that fact.

And the palm of her hand slipped further up Jack's arm. Past the touch that was his into one that was entirely her own. And that was all she would allow. Could allow.

Her voice carried low.

"Have you done something, Jack?"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

It was frustrating to see ones self as if through a mirror and watch how the reflection seemed somehow wrong. He could see how it should be, and how he wanted to be, but strive as he might he felt like he was reaching for something just out of grasp. Held only inches away, but his fingers could do little more than brush it.

"I don't know," he said to her in a quiet whisper.

"I want-- I need---" but what did he need? He couldn't say. It didn't make him feel strong, any of this. And he wanted to feel strong. He wanted to feel like himself.

He repeated again.

"I don't know."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

"Jack."

Reinette repeated his name again, with the same quiet purpose. She shifted slightly, as well, within the space they occupied. To remain still for too long would perhaps place a challenge that did not need to be there. The half step and the measured breath could see your to your destination as surely as two brisk strides across the room. It was her way of reminding him.

There were a great many things she could say then. That is all right to sense a change. To be altered in some fashion. It would never be the journey she would have wished for him, never that. But she was a different person than the woman that initially met Jack Harkness. He just needed to know himself again.

Reinette eschewed all that for something that was far more direct.

And yet somehow less so.

"Must we know?"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Yes," came his answer, almost immediately. Emphatically. Yes. He needed to know. He needed to know who he was.

"You know that's the worst thing," he said. "Of all of it. All those months. I can change myself. Like the click of my fingers and I can look like I should. I can sound like me and stand like me but I'm not--" he trailed, huff slightly.

"I can make people believe it," he said, as though that was explanation enough. He had a feeling to her it would be.

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

"But you cannot make yourself believe it," she finished carefully but without any apology. To pretend that she was unaware of what he referred to would be disrespectful to what Jack was going through. There was far too much honesty between them.

And honesty would remain. She would not coax Jack into some semblance of how he felt he should be through placating words and falsehoods. It was far too likely to fail him later.

"So you snap your fingers, and you wish to be Jack again?" Her brow knitted slighted as Reinette's gaze moved over Jack in a gentle caress. "Of course it is not that simple. You are not that simple. How could you be?"

Something in her posture softened slightly. It might be her words. In might be the memory of their last day in the labyrinth. It might simply be Jack, and how she cared for him.

"We discussed this, do you remember? There is more to you than that."

Reinette smiled up at him.

"Do not worry on where you are not but see where you will be. Sort in through. Find your way. That is what this place is for, is it not? Why we are here?"

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"Careful," he said and tried to smile, "talk like that and you'll damage my hard earned reputation."

His reputation, of course, as something of a heartless man. He'd been told he was that. But he wasn't. Far from it.

"Funny," he said, "sometimes all you've got is time, but you don't want it. And you know for a guy that's done pretty much nothing but waiting, I can be pretty impatient. I just..." he shook his head. He didn't do vulnerable well, and he certainly didn't do talking about it.

So he changed the subject.

"We'll go out," he said decisively. "You get dressed and we'll go out."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

For Jack, of late, he spoke a great deal. There were a great many words and the filled the space between them. But they carried very little weight. At the very least in the beginning, and then the end.

But as for what sat between? Reinette's gaze darkened slightly. She did not even address his command, and an attempt to alter the course of their conversation. She simply would not have that.

"Waiting, Jack? I told you, quite clearly, the day you kept company with a tree and I asked that you stay. There is only one rule. We do not wait."

Her expression softened then, the tightness in her features finally falling away and if only for a moment briefly showing precisely, exactly how she felt.

Reinette's fingers moved to brush the of his hand. They curled there slightly before traveling across his wrist, past the place where fabric and skin met, the movement careful and measured. To his arm. His shoulder. Briefly brushing more skin exposed at his neck before her hand came to rest on his check, thumb tracing the planes there.

"We might move slowly. So slowly that I times we still feel irritatingly still. But we are still moving. And we do get there, all the same."

She searched for his eyes to see if he understood.

"Jack."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

Jack let out a somewhat frustrated breath. Oh yes he knew what had been said, but that didn't mean he ever followed what he himself agreed to.

He watched her, and then when her hand moved he watched that. His eyes fell to her fingers and followed as they moved over skin and fabric and skin once again. He let out a shaky breath as she did it. There was awareness there, and a little more than that. Something inside, not quite definable.

"But sitting and waiting for it to happen doesn't help it along," he pressed. "There's only one person who can do it and that's me. And I have to."

[ambitious-woman.livejournal.com]

Reinette closed her eyes briefly, the tilt of her chin conceding his point. She understood Jack's frustrations, perhaps even more than he fully suspected. It was one of the few things she had still kept somewhat guarded. It was painfully difficult to be lost within one's own body.

The angle of her chin sharpened lightly as she withdrew her hand, though not without one long, lingering brush of her thumb.

"All right, then. All right. But I do think Jack, sometimes we are meant to linger in the discomfort. It pushes us. Because who we are, the people that we are. It is not always easy. So it is only logical that reaching there again should not be either. As long as we are walking somewhere, Jack? And not running? Then by all means I will change and we can go."

[quitehomoerotic.livejournal.com]

"I've lingered long enough," he said, "14 months and that's plenty. I'm done with that, and I won't sit around and wait for things to change. I'll change them. Me."

He nodded, as if it added emphasis to his words, punctuated them somehow, and he shifted his hands to his hips.

"Oh we're not running," he said, "nor are we walking. I'm driving."

There was a glint of a smile then. "Trust me, you'll love this."