Captain Jack Harkness (
quitehomoerotic) wrote2010-07-06 06:50 pm
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ambitious_woman: Time for a party
Follows this.
It had been five days since Reinette woke up. She was doing much better now, her health had picked up considerably and she had more colour in her cheeks than Jack thought he'd ever seen her with.
Still, he knew, time ticked on, and the better she became the more restless too. That, and as time passed yet more and more questions were raised as to her identity. Jack could deal with them, of course, but he much preferred that he didn't have to.
Of course, he wanted to take her home. And home, of course, he meant 1752. But that was hardly that simple, and turning up to take her back there now felt cruel. Jack could be cruel, of course. He'd been cruel on many occasions. But he didn't want to be, not to her, not after everything. So he needed an alternative.
Luckily, an alternative presented itself.
So it was with an idea fully formed and a oversized set of bags in hand that he walked into Reinette's hospital room, a grin painted on his lips.
"Bonsoir," he said. "How about a trip?"
It had been five days since Reinette woke up. She was doing much better now, her health had picked up considerably and she had more colour in her cheeks than Jack thought he'd ever seen her with.
Still, he knew, time ticked on, and the better she became the more restless too. That, and as time passed yet more and more questions were raised as to her identity. Jack could deal with them, of course, but he much preferred that he didn't have to.
Of course, he wanted to take her home. And home, of course, he meant 1752. But that was hardly that simple, and turning up to take her back there now felt cruel. Jack could be cruel, of course. He'd been cruel on many occasions. But he didn't want to be, not to her, not after everything. So he needed an alternative.
Luckily, an alternative presented itself.
So it was with an idea fully formed and a oversized set of bags in hand that he walked into Reinette's hospital room, a grin painted on his lips.
"Bonsoir," he said. "How about a trip?"
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Before continuing.
"Yes, Jack. Only 77 positions. Such failure should not be permitted. I am surprised you have yet to take them to task."
Reinette cast a speculative glance towards the bags, wondering just what rested within them. He had certainly not been kind to her clothing in the past. But then Jack had also provided her clothing for numerous adventures.
His words demanded her focus again.
"That I am well," she answered. "To a point. At least as much as they might do for me now." She glanced at her bedside table, and four large bottles on pills there. "They said I must take them faithfully if I am to recover. For six months."
Her voice betrayed her doubts on the matter.
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He shot her a wink, but as the conversation drifted to one a little more serious, so did his expression. His head ducked just a little and he nodded.
"Right," he said, responding almost to something unsaid.
"Well," he said, "we can take them with us."
But still, that said, he doubted the bottles would ever become empty.
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And with that something felt decided. Reinette did her part to put the conversation fully aside. She saw no reason to linger there.
And more? There was a promising distraction. She gifted Jack with the full force of her smile, something she had yet to use in this place.
"You have secrets, Jack?" Her voice was teasing and light, relying on a delicacy she could not have managed with the various tubes before."I never would have thought."
Of course he had secrets. But then so did she.
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But that didn't mean he had to like it.
Luckily though, there was distraction enough in their conversation, and he found himself smiling again, at her expression if nothing else.
"Now that's what I like to see," he said with a grin.
"So, want to see your 'costume'?"
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But it was always like this after long disagreements with herself and herself. She was always left feeling a stranger after.
Jack made her feel less so.
"You do not wear it so poorly yourself, you know."
Again, her gaze bright and curious found the bags. Reinette moved to push back the blankets that covered her.
"Yes," she teased again. "Jack."
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"Right," he said, that beaming smile getting a little wider.
He stood and reached for the bags, one for him and one for her.
"Here," he said, and handed the bulky bag over. "The shop supplied everything, so blame them for problems."
Inside was a dress, overly bright blue and almost gaudy, supposedly designed in the 18th century style. The label had once said 'Mary Antoinette Dress', but that had long since been pulled off. There was, to go with it, also shoes and an over the top white wig (though he'd never seen her in one).
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Surely, somewhere, there was something that did not suit Jack. Perhaps canary yellow. They idea of the challenge encouraged her to action, and Reinette moved to take herself from the bed. Set high from the ground, it required one long, awkward step down she managed with as much grace as possible.
There she stood for a moment, testing her legs. It was not that she felt weak, rather that her use of them had been severely rationed of late. Once certain of herself, Reinette reached for the bag had for her.
Carefully she removed the gown within. She ignored the wig for more pressing matters.
"That color cannot be natural!"
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He wouldn't comment on it.
As her attention turned to the contents of the bag so too did his, and he smirked as she examined what was within.
"Summer blue I think they called it," he said. "Best I could get. Wait till you see mine."
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Reinette's fingers trailed over the rather uninspiring workmanship.
"I have spent many summer in France, Jack. All of them that I have known. And I have never once seen or experienced that particular shade."
It occurred to her then that complaining too loudly might not be the best way to ensure she actually was allowed to leave the hospital. And as such she would fully resolved to let any other offenses pass. She held to that resolve for a fully minute, until she lifted the gown to examine it from all sides. Something was not quite right.
"I think your dress is broken, Jack. It does not all seem to be here."
The laces seemed more fashion than actual form, and much of the underskirts were stitched to the down itself.
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He moved over and took a hold of the dress, turning it around and pulling down a zip that ran along the seam.
"Like so," he said, and smirked a little, waiting for her reaction.
"Not broken. Perfectly functioning."
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She was still smiling, yes. But indignant all the same.
"One should always pay attention to the details."
Which, of course, was the precise moment Jack chose to demonstrate the finer points of just how the gown would be worn.
"And what," she pressed, steeling her expression. "Is the intended function?"
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"Come on, it's got the boning in the lining, right? I asked for it. It's--" he reached forward, giving the gown a bit of a squeeze with his hand. "Well okay it's not perfect, but it'll do for a party. It's not like I'm asking you to walk into court with this thing on."
He stepped back a little and grinned
"And hey, at least it's no bin bag."
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With something of a resigned sigh Reinette brought the gown against herself, measuring. Whatever the finer points of this discussion might be, she could not fault Jack's assessment of her size. It would serve.
"Very well," she agreed, seeming to come to some sort of conclusion. "If this is what I am required to leave this place? I shall wear it. I would wear one of your bin bags. Or even what I am wearing now. It does not matter."
Or at least, she considered?
It did not matter much.
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He turned and grinned, taking up his own bag.
"I'll go change, you change, and I'll meet you back here. Don't go running anywhere now."
He shot her a wink and moved to the door, the bag in hand, and he left the room with a flourish.
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"Where, Jack? Exactly would I run."
Not that he was there to answer. There was a moment, of course? A very brief moment at the height of her hurt and disappointment at Jack's refusal to remover her from the hospital that Reinette had considered running. In the only way open to her. In calling the doctors and nurses and guards back, and confirming that Jack was indeed upsetting her. They would have been effectively separated. And there was no way he could have returned her home.
It had been a fleeting thought, at best. Because she knew without doubt it would have emotionally severed whatever she and Jack had come to share. And she did not want that. So dutifully Reinette remained. Remained in a hospital and surrounded by doctors, her world and sense of self turned upside down.
They spoke and laughed and avoided now. Because neither wished to deal with the alternative. And that suited her.
More than the down.
Stripped of her dressing down Reinette noted how nearly all the bruises had faded from her skin. Only a few, faint lingering scars remained. She suspected they would always be there.
Placing the lose fitting cotton aside Reinette stepped into the gown, and zipped it up as best she could manage. The color was no less offensive on. To distract herself from it, she directed her attention to her hair.
Had Jack really intended for her to wear that wig?
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Never one to do anything by halves, Jack had gone all out on the costume. That said, it was still that, a costume, and as he dressed himself in it he couldn't help but agree with Reinette's earlier comments on the items.
He wore an outfit in full, no detail missed from the stockings to the wig that adorned his head. Nor the makeup that now covered his face, powdered white and detailed with a black beauty spot and a red heart painted over his lips.
He stepped in the room. and shut the door behind him.
"How do I look?"
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"Jack..."
There was no time to contain or edit her laughter, and it filled the room bright and clear. It struck her then she did not feel as out of breath as she often did.
"Oh, Jack. What have you gotten into."
She stepped forward to survey him, completely a full circle through brisk steps.
"And what am I to do with the fact that you are now prettier than I am?" Her gaze narrowed.
"A beauty spot?"
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He smirked at her and turned so that he faced her a little front on.
"And don't worry, I don't think we're in any danger of that now."
Taking one step back, he regarded her dress. "See, it looks... just right." She wore it well, of course, and he'd expected little else.
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"It is right Jack," she agreed with as straight a face as possible. "Though I must warn you, you must take care not to kiss your heart away. It is always far too simple to tell who has stumbled into an alcove."
Her mouth pressed into a firmer line, still revealing an opinion of her gown. But she still turns to present the back so Jack might finish zipping her into it.
"If you would?"
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Rubbish, of course. They both knew that. In fact Jack gave his heart all too easily at times. But he would never admit to that, not even to himself.
He took a step forward and reached for her dress, lifting the zip the rest of the way. "You know, I'm more accustomed to removing these things," he said as he fixed it in place. "Though, gotta admit, this one isn't much of a challenge."
He leaned over her shoulder and smirked.
"Paris is waiting," he said.
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And at that thought, Reinette smiled.
Her very carriage changed.
"I cannot address what is a chalange or not to you Jack. I only know you chose it. There might be some sort of meaning there, though I am not sure. A great many possibilities, at least."
But?
Paris.
She had missed her, though she was won't to admit it out lous. But she missed her all the same. With little preamble Reinette pulled her hair back, and affixed the less than perfect wig. It would do. She looked to Jack.
"Shall we?"
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He winked at her.
And he tried not to laugh at the wig. A perfect picture of a woman in costume. If only anyone knew.
"I think we shall," he said, and offered out his ready-programmed wrist strap towards her.
"Care to do the honours, Madame?" He grinned. "That button there."
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"Now Jack. I can think of one or two things at least that you would find positively dull. My husband being one of them."
She brought herself close again Jack, the required expectations of their journey now understood. She braced herself against the usual wave of nausea and thought back to the last time they had traveled thus together. A great deal had changed. For the better.
He seemed to be a great deal improved. Her smile now was small, and private as she drew herself across Jack to reach for the strap.
"One day Jack, I really will insist you teach me how."
And with that the button was depressed.
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And he liked that. That quiet conversation they could have without ever speaking. An understanding that would (and did) pass between them.
If he were to reply at all, it wouldn't be now, because where once was a hospital room, was now a small quiet Paris street. There was a chill in the evening air, but it wasn't cold, and the streetlights paved their way to their destination.
Jack shook himself, shaking off the sensation from the travel, and he offered her his arm.
"Shall we?"
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She could not help but be aware of how much less the cool air bothered her. Even now, she would have battled such temperatures with a roaring fire. Spring or summer it did not matter.
"We shall."
And she gave Jack another of her best smiles, one far less practiced.
As they walked, Reinette fell silent. It was one thing to see electric lights and cars and all the modern amenities she had come to understand in Jack's home. It was yet another to see her own home altered by them. She took it all in.
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