Truth and Consequences (Rp for quitehomoerotic)
The next morning passed pleasantly enough. Jack ordered breakfast just as he promised, and presented himself with a smile. She presented himself with his shirt, neatly folded and soon enough there were returned to her sitting room. Just as he promised, it was as if they never left
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Almost.
She scraped together the words to order Marie away once more. The girl always had a tendency to come crawling back in when she thought Reinette was asleep. On some levels Reinette understood it. She was just as loyal to Louis as to herself, if not moreso. And Louis would expect his reports.
That left her, and Jack.
Carefully Reinette turned her wrist over to conceal more of the bandage.
"Nothing happened that is not always happening," she managed, finally opening her eyes. This was the danger, of course. To Jack's remaining in France. The Doctor had always managed to somehow chose what she considered her good days. But if Jack remained there was no way to guarantee that. It was always enough to make her reconsider her request.
"You should go, Jack. I have instructed everyone quite firmly that you are my guest." She was tired, the words required more than they should. "And to be treated as such. They will see that you are entertained."
Whatever that meant, she thought. Even if somewhat unhappily. If it meant removing him from the space they currently shared.
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Jack's response was immediate and firm. Unwavering and not willing to argue, a mere statement of fact; he would not be leaving.
"I don't need entertaining," he added. He would never be so interested in whatever they had to offer him at the best of times, and with her here he would have no intention of going elsewhere.
He moved so he was instead perched on the edge of her bed and inclined over towards her, a hand outstretched to touch her forehead.
"Look at you," he said with a sigh and a softer voice. "What have they done here? Reinette talk to me."
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There was a certain amount of confusion in her tone. Because they had done as they always did, and always would do. It hardly seemed remarkable anymore.
For all that Reinette refused to give in any other aspect of her life, here she yielded to Louis' wishes. Often because she was most often in no way capable of arguing the point. It hardly made it better, but nothing could make it worse. And in the end, it mattered to Louis. He needed to know that she was cared for and so she gave that to him.
As any other gift might be given.
Reinette id her best to ignore Jack's touch to her forehead. It was one thing for doctor's and physicians to do so. This was far too personal her. He knew her, now. How long before he compared now to before and drew his own conclusions. In some small way she was thankful Louis never managed to remain.
"Jack, truly," Reinette breathed. "I insist. A day. Two and most and we can continue."
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"A few hours ago you were walking around the garden with me, and now look at you. Now what happened, tell me."
He was worried about her, yes, and that much was evident in his voice. Protective of her.
"Your pulse is weak. What have they given you for this? You need a proper doctor."
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"I have had the doctors Jack. And entire room of them." She was quiet for a moment because her body demanded it. "They have made their opinions knows, reported to their king and taken their blood as they always do. One would think that sooner or later I would manage to have some they do not take objection to."
Reinette turned then, more to her back and sitting up be degrees.
"In a few days my life will be my own again, Jack. Go, until then. Just go."
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His voice and the way he held himself carried authority now. A reminder that he was a military Captain and not just in name. That he ran his own team at Torchwood for such a long time. he didn't take things lying down now, and he wouldn't just listen and take that either.
"You need a blood transfusion," he informed her. "I need to get you to a hospital where people can look after you. Proper doctor's, not the idiots that did this."
He reached his hand out and pressed it against her shoulder as she tried to move, and his voice a little gentler, "Ah ah ah, don't sit up, rest yourself, be careful. And I'm not going anywhere. So how about some storytime? What happened to you for them to do this. You were fine this morning."
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Instinctively she pulled her wrist closer, away from Jack and his judgment. Why could the man not listen to her and leave. Whatever this was, and however long it lasted it would be between them the next time they met. It had slowly undermined her and Louis' relationship. And she --
She liked Jack. A great deal.
"I could send for Phillipe. You could pass the time with him."
Reinette allowed herself to be pushed back down into the bed.
"I fell it," she finally explained. "It is a frequent enough thing. I felt it, through the course of the day but thought I could fight it off. Obviously I was wrong." For a moment Reinette closed her eyes. "I told you this, Jack. I did not keep it secret."
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He shifted against the bed and his hand again went to her forehead, brushing back this time and stroking fingers careful and tender through her hair.
"Stop it," he said, unamused by her jokes (if they were jokes at all, and he very much hoped that they were). "Do you really think that's why I'm here?"
From her hair his hand moved to her cheek. If she looked at him she would see that along with the authority there was worry. Strong strong worry. Fright in his eyes. He'd seen too many people die, and too many people he cared about.
"You should have told me today if you felt ill," he said in a whisper. And quieter, "This is yesterday, isn't it? I shouldn't have taken you."
He felt guilt.
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And as much as his touch soothed, she refused to turn towards it. It was just more motivation for him to stay.
"I think that he could smile," she said after a moment, referring to Phillipe. "And possibly remove that expression from your face."
Reinette fell quiet again, for several moments. She counted the sharp pulses in her wrist and listened to her own breathing. For a while she even listened to her clock. Anything but think on Jack's presence, or his question.
"This is not your fault, Jack. Most likely I would have fallen ill, if I merely sat by the window and read a book that day. It does not matter. And yes, I hid it. Of course I did." The alternative was absurd.
Reinette tilted her face to look at him again.
"Please do not blame yourself. I do not want that day touched by this. It taints enough already."
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Jack simply watched Reinette as she breathed. Watched the struggle in it. And did all he could not to grit his teeth or grow too angry.
"I'm not interested in your chef," he pointed out plainly. Nor right now was he in the mood to joke on it. Harsher in tone and demeanour, though softer to her directly.
His fingers touched her cheek again and gently against it to coax her to look at him.
"Let me help you," he said, almost a plea.
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Reinette knew immediately it was the wrong words to say, though she could only hope they would pass Jack by. But they were no less than the truth and she was too tired to temper it for him. Still, she pulled her wrist closer, practically beneath her chemise.
"I do not see why not," Reinette countered, still unable to let anything go with Jack. It was what their relationship was born of and it seemed innate now. "He is very interesting."
And something to talk of, other than herself.
Of course now his hands were tilting her face upwards and she had little choice. Reinette closed her eyes, took a breath and when she opened them again offered Jack the clearest expression she could manage.
"You have helped Jack. Help." She took another moment. "London helps. The garden helps. It gives me other things to thing on when I am here than this." He was far too close. Her words were pained and as close to angry, though not at him. "And now the next time you see me this is all you will remember. It is how it starts. Please Jack, just go. That will help a great deal."
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"Stop it," he said again, and this one harsher than the last. "Do you think that's all I am?" As though he were just sex, or just an interest in lust. He knew that she didn't think that on a deeper level maybe, but his gut reaction was less thorough.
He watched her again as she again told him to go. It made him feel cold.
Cold to her illness? No. Cold in so much that he blocked out emotion? Oh yes.
So he stood from the bed, tall with his face stern.
"Fine," he said sharply. "Fine. I'll be just a great help then." He turned, three steps to the door and a glance back."Goodbye, Reinette."
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Unless she left first. But in the bed as she was, it was not an option.
And so he was leaving instead. Which, Reinette insisted quietly, was precisely what she wanted. Without him looking over her she was able to curl back only her side, nursing her hand and her head once more.
She did not cry. Reinette never cried. It was not a behaivor that was indulged in as a child and she would not indulge in it now. But in that moment she felt impossibly frustrated. He was running now, and it was just as she asked. Because of her.
"It was not supposed to be like this," she made a brief attempt at peace. "You were not supposed to see."
For once she did not know what else to say.
"Goodbye, Jack."
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He made no promises to return.
So he left, and he continued as he had been, cobbling together a life out of scraps because he couldn't settle on a life he wanted to lead. He stayed away from making connections. Tried not to know people and didn't let them know him. It worked for him. It meant nobody could hurt him and more importantly he couldn't hurt them.
But then Reinette was still in his mind. Like an itch that had to be scratched.
They'd known each other only days, but somehow even in such a short time she'd tapped into him and he suspected he'd done quite the same. Still, he was burned by the way she told him to go, and Jack was stubborn, he didn't want to be where he wasn't wanted.
Curiosity though, he just couldn't help from getting the better of him. On a free day, he went back to find the books he'd intended to read of her but discarded. He read them now. He read of her life and how it ended. And so he saw her as a ticking clock. Silly, really, since when he was reading the book she'd been dead over 300 years. But then time was a funny beast like that.
It made him think though. Perhaps the petty things don't and didn't matter. Perhaps his curiosity was okay to sate. She enjoyed their time, he thought, and to himself he could admit that he did.
And so he went back. His intention at first nothing more than to see her. And so he hid away, mingled into the back of the room at a ball. A room full of people to watch. And he did. H watched. Four months in both of their timelines since he'd left. He watched and he left.
It worked, he thought, watching. And so he'd do it again.
Six months down the line and he was in Versailles once more. A pleasant May afternoon and a garden party. Enough people to mingle amongst.
Enough trees to hide behind.
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Just as she asked him too.
And so she slept.
And when she awoke Reinette was forced to go about the business of reimagining her life. Though still her dearest friend, a friendship that had eased through the passing months, Louis no longer required her companionship every moment of the day. Now they tended to find themselves together at the end of it, sharing what passed together.
For all that it was pleasant, Reinette found herself oddly bereft. For so long, there was Louis. And then for a moment, there was Jack. But now both gone after a fashion, she had to grow accustomed to the fact that there was sometimes only herself to entertain. And to distract.
She had not expected him to be gone so long.
She sponsored a school, bringing it to Louis' attention that would allow young men to focus singularly of military dreams. Her thoughts strayed, of course, to a particular face. Other projects were less distracting, and in that they distracted all together. Boucher repainted the walls of her apartments. The porcelain factory approved several new designs. She spent more time with her daughter, even if she still struggled with the notion of motherhood. Her days were filled.
And now, in the moments when she was still, she wondered if he was coming back at all.
Spring came, and as always it was welcome. She always felt her best, then. Her skin warmed and the earth overwhelmed by color. If winter was her enemy then spring was her dearest friend.
The Dauphin, Louis' eldest son was holding a garden fete to celebrate the coming of spring. Not directly involved in its planning Reinette was allowed to walk and enjoy the scenery the day presented. Color was everywhere, as if the gardeneres had collected every blooming plant from the grounds and shoved them into this single, crowded space just for the day. Reinette knew for a fact that many of them had. And the men and women in attendance, of course, were not to be outdone. Pastel pinks and blues and yellows, everywhere silk and sating gleamed.
It made it almost simple to catch sign of a bolt of grey fabric.
Without thought, Reinette moved towards it even if her footsteps were slow and measured. If he was there, he could go if he truly wished it. There had been another time, once before? But that had in the end proved to be whimsy and fancy.
The picture finally became clear.
"What have I told you about hiding behind trees?"
She smiled then, if something more restrained than had once developed between them. With her eyes she drank in his features the way others at the fete were drinking wine.
"Hello, Jack."
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Jack enjoyed Reinette's company, while he had it, and there was no need for him to pretend otherwise; it was only himself listening. So his second visit he made himself perhaps a little more obvious, a little more out in front and a little more lingering where he might be seen.
And in truth, if he'd never wanted her to find him, he'd have never gone and hid behind a tree.
When she spoke he didn't turn. He was looking out beyond the branched and not to his side where she stood. But his attention was hers straight away.
"Well you know you find some interesting things behind trees," he said casually, as though he were just indulging in idle chatter and he'd never been away.
His face turned then though and to her he offered a smile as his reply softened to something personal.
"Hello, Reinette."
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