Privately, on occasion, she could not help but wonder if it was time to leave this place. Not as she had so many times before, packing up their days and amusements to properly with, and guiding Louis from one moment to the next. Not as she had the very first time, fresh from meeting the king that stood so long as her ambition, sure of the knowledge that she had captured his attention. And not even as she had so recently, taking that single step away from him before he took the all more damaging first step back. Instead choosing her successor, moving her rooms and reimagining her life
( ... )
The brisk air was pleasant. A cool breeze always reminded him of the windy air in Cardiff Bay (and he reminded himself again that that was something he ought to be forgetting
( ... )
It was not like her to have such a difficult time with a decision. Though precisely mapped, Reinette still relied greatly on instinct in the course of her days. It was most unsettling, then. And though she had never stepped foot on a ship, she felt at sea.
Something captured her attention. She would be hard pressed to state precisely what, if asked. The flutter of fabric, or a breath that was not her own. Reinette spent the course of her childhood until now attuned to the fine ticking of clocks and what might lurk unexpectedly in the shadows. She was nothing if not aware.
Her gaze moved evenly over a gentleman that was standing most absurdly behind a tree. The purpose of Versailles was to be seen, not to remain out of sight. It was the first lesson one learned.
Which made him a stranger. To both this place, and to her.
And Reinette had crafted that into an art. Knowing.
Though Jack could be adept at hiding if he so chose, he'd grown used to doing quite the opposite. The man with a secret organisation that he often ignored the 'secret' element of, to parade around the city like he owned it.
So when he was addressed, he didn't slink back or shy away, why would he? He stepped forward with his hands in his pockets.
Ah, so he was right, French. Well he was a little rusty, but he'd do his best. He should be fluent, if he just remembered how.
"Good question," he answered without answering at all. He looked her up and down without moving his head at all, a quick flick of eyes, appraising and analysing.
"Call me a sightseer," he added, by way of half-assed explanation.
His accent fully cemented his casted role of stranger in their performance in miniature, and though she was adept in multiple languages herself Reinette chose not to use them. They were in her home and in her gardens. They would use her language as well.
She was accustomed to eyes being on her, both looking and judging. For all that she sat well within Louis' heart, much of the court was less kind. There was a softness amoung the throng when she was first set aside. Not pity or course, or sympathy. Rather victory sensed and the relaxation that followed. But the longer she remained the more they fell into their old ways. Her, and them.
Reinette remained just as she was, her posture unfazed by his eyes.
"A sightseer," she murmured. "Not a profession I have a great deal of admiration for."
And now it was her turn to see him. To sweep her gaze over his form, from the veriest tip to toe. It was not all together an unpleasant experience, and the courtier in her spoke again.
Interesting, Jack thought. He was often the subject of curiosity; the people that noticed him in Cardiff, those who watched and wondered who he was, or those that watched and passed judgement on what he did. He ignored them easily, because what they said or thought mattered little to him. Jack didn't seek approval from many people at all. Save for a rare few, people could think just what the hell they wanted about him.
For all those people that looked at him, though, they rarely looked at him, and rarely so obviously. It was something that in her way, Gwen Cooper had done when he met her. It was something he liked.
It was something that made him intrigued.
"Wouldn't call it a profession," he said with a slight backwards shrug of his shoulders, "more a hobby."
His eyes searched again, watching her pose and her poise. He could tell she had something about her, and that too was intriguing.
Though Reinette was attempting to take in the complete picture of the man before her, she could not help but get caught in his contradictions. The captured her like delicate fabric snagged upon a rough, unfinished surface. He stood securely in his space, easily inhabiting it and obviously not unsettled by her presence.
He was relaxed, the casual lift of his shoulders enough to cause the line her her own back to sharpen in retaliation.
And yet for all that there was a sharpness in his eyes. The color, light reflected and refracted. Caught again, but in a different manner all together.
She took a single step, to better study him.
"Because I can have little patience for those that stand on the perimeter of life. That allow of to happen to them, rather than happening to it. Sightseeing."
Her mouth smoothing into something, thought not quite a smile.
As she moved, Jack didn't step aside. Not backwards away or forwards towards. But in no way was he passive. One eyebrow hitched up a little, almost imperceptibly so, a slight change of expression before he shifted his stance back to that of his previous; hands down and in his pockets, pushing back the sides of his heavy greatcoat.
The corner of his mouth twisted up in vague amusement and he nodded slightly, "Oh don't you worry, no fear there. I've always been one to--" he gave her another glance, as if he was willing somehow for her to take another step, "--get involved."
He twisted an edge to his words that was effortless and natural. A tease that wasn't really tease, just a part of who he is.
Reinette did take the following step. Not at his urging or even the subtle taunt of the noted eyebrow. Rather because she wished it. It was an important distinction.
"But not called it by me. And ultimately, you would surely forgive me for holding my own opinion as having the greatest weight."
She was quite close to judging him unfit to meet the challenges and pitfalls within the tiled hallways of Versailles. But then he teased. Carefully, and light. Though she must also admit somewhat artfully. He might just do after all, if that was his goal in coming here.
Though his wardrobe simply would not do.
"Involved or no, you surely must agree that it is ultimately actions that matter. And thus far I have only seen you hiding -- rather ineffectively I must add -- behind a tree. A poor sightseer at that."
Oh now that was interesting. A woman with a mind of her own, he liked that. Opinions were always best when they were formed by yourself and not by the ideas of others, passed down and whispered along. It was sadly all too rare a quality for someone to believe themselves over words of another. Not that it wasn't useful at times. It made lying very easy because if you said something with enough conviction, people were inclined to believe.
He wasn't sure that was the case with this woman. And that was rather exciting.
His expression changed again, a minute difference. Something that was very almost approving, but not quite.
With just a glance back over his side to the tree he looked back to her and wore a smirk. "Who said I was hiding?" he challenged, "I was just checking out the trees. Seems to me like you've got a case of paranoia. Now why's that then?"
"And it seems to me that you are most defensive. Why is that?"
Reinette was not paranoid, she was a realist. But her acceptance of what her role meant and the consequences of her choices was not something she viewed as a negative. Rather it was a key component to her success.
A single golden eyebrow arched.
"What did you learn, then. From the tree that you were examining so diligently."
There, then, was a smile.
"Was it the bark that was most enlightening. Or the branches?"
It was rare, he thought, that you could have a conversation without the words really relating to what you were actually talking about. It was a game he enjoyed playing. He indulged with it frequently with Ianto before, when things were better.
His face broke a little at her dry humour (something else he was accustomed to), a smile that turned into a laugh, and a laugh that involved his whole face; little creases appearing as his eyes as he glances down at the ground and back up at her.
"Oh I think it's what was behind the tree that's a little more interesting," he said with a lift of his chin and a pointed look in her direction.
Was disarming. Dangerously so. Enough that for the whole of it she simply stood there watching him. And for a full, full second after. She would not go so far as to use the word captivating. But it was something, however vague and undefined.
She was quite aware that mostly likely she was caught looking.
Her own chin lifted slightly.
"I am afraid, sir, that I remain unable to return the compliment. As of yet."
And with that she sank into a curtsy. There was something playful in it, almost mocking.
Jack didn't miss a trick. Despite the odd mix of casual yet solid attitude and stance, he was watching, and watching for every little detail. He was watching and waiting and looking to see what he might find or what he might learn about the woman standing in front of him.
It was a little like he treated people when working out if he thought they were 'Torchwood material', though that at the same time was far from what he was doing.
"Nice to meet you, Jeanne-Antoinette Poisson," he said with a smirk, parroting her name back to her as he watched her move. It was familiar, and in the back of his head he thought he should know it.
As she stood Reinette kept her gaze level on Jack, steady during the entire journey upwards. It was simply yet another perspective to view him in.
And then she took another step. And then another. Followed by and another and even another still until she she had fully circled around his form. To the casual observer it might have looked as if they were dancing.
Jack moved his arms, dropped them and clasped his hands behind his back. He felt a little as though he were back in the military and lined up being inspected by a superior. So he stood as if he were.
His head turned just so to watch her as she moved, looking at her through half veiled eyelids.
Over the years Jack had adopted many a persona, and there were many he could slip into at a moments notice. And that's what he did now, a sudden yet fluid shift into a suave, chivalrous demeanour.
He turned now, his body animating as he shifted to face her, his hand directed out towards her as though he might shake it.
"Then let me correct that," he said, even his tone containing a smirk, "Captain Jack Harkness."
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Something captured her attention. She would be hard pressed to state precisely what, if asked. The flutter of fabric, or a breath that was not her own. Reinette spent the course of her childhood until now attuned to the fine ticking of clocks and what might lurk unexpectedly in the shadows. She was nothing if not aware.
Her gaze moved evenly over a gentleman that was standing most absurdly behind a tree. The purpose of Versailles was to be seen, not to remain out of sight. It was the first lesson one learned.
Which made him a stranger. To both this place, and to her.
And Reinette had crafted that into an art. Knowing.
She was meant to know.
"And you are?"
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So when he was addressed, he didn't slink back or shy away, why would he? He stepped forward with his hands in his pockets.
Ah, so he was right, French. Well he was a little rusty, but he'd do his best. He should be fluent, if he just remembered how.
"Good question," he answered without answering at all. He looked her up and down without moving his head at all, a quick flick of eyes, appraising and analysing.
"Call me a sightseer," he added, by way of half-assed explanation.
Reply
She was accustomed to eyes being on her, both looking and judging. For all that she sat well within Louis' heart, much of the court was less kind. There was a softness amoung the throng when she was first set aside. Not pity or course, or sympathy. Rather victory sensed and the relaxation that followed. But the longer she remained the more they fell into their old ways. Her, and them.
Reinette remained just as she was, her posture unfazed by his eyes.
"A sightseer," she murmured. "Not a profession I have a great deal of admiration for."
And now it was her turn to see him. To sweep her gaze over his form, from the veriest tip to toe. It was not all together an unpleasant experience, and the courtier in her spoke again.
"A pity."
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For all those people that looked at him, though, they rarely looked at him, and rarely so obviously. It was something that in her way, Gwen Cooper had done when he met her. It was something he liked.
It was something that made him intrigued.
"Wouldn't call it a profession," he said with a slight backwards shrug of his shoulders, "more a hobby."
His eyes searched again, watching her pose and her poise. He could tell she had something about her, and that too was intriguing.
"Oh? And why's that then?"
Reply
He was relaxed, the casual lift of his shoulders enough to cause the line her her own back to sharpen in retaliation.
And yet for all that there was a sharpness in his eyes. The color, light reflected and refracted. Caught again, but in a different manner all together.
She took a single step, to better study him.
"Because I can have little patience for those that stand on the perimeter of life. That allow of to happen to them, rather than happening to it. Sightseeing."
Her mouth smoothing into something, thought not quite a smile.
"I thought you might prove interesting."
Reply
The corner of his mouth twisted up in vague amusement and he nodded slightly, "Oh don't you worry, no fear there. I've always been one to--" he gave her another glance, as if he was willing somehow for her to take another step, "--get involved."
He twisted an edge to his words that was effortless and natural. A tease that wasn't really tease, just a part of who he is.
"I've been called it, once or twice."
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"But not called it by me. And ultimately, you would surely forgive me for holding my own opinion as having the greatest weight."
She was quite close to judging him unfit to meet the challenges and pitfalls within the tiled hallways of Versailles. But then he teased. Carefully, and light. Though she must also admit somewhat artfully. He might just do after all, if that was his goal in coming here.
Though his wardrobe simply would not do.
"Involved or no, you surely must agree that it is ultimately actions that matter. And thus far I have only seen you hiding -- rather ineffectively I must add -- behind a tree. A poor sightseer at that."
Reply
He wasn't sure that was the case with this woman. And that was rather exciting.
His expression changed again, a minute difference. Something that was very almost approving, but not quite.
With just a glance back over his side to the tree he looked back to her and wore a smirk. "Who said I was hiding?" he challenged, "I was just checking out the trees. Seems to me like you've got a case of paranoia. Now why's that then?"
Reply
Reinette was not paranoid, she was a realist. But her acceptance of what her role meant and the consequences of her choices was not something she viewed as a negative. Rather it was a key component to her success.
A single golden eyebrow arched.
"What did you learn, then. From the tree that you were examining so diligently."
There, then, was a smile.
"Was it the bark that was most enlightening. Or the branches?"
Reply
It was rare, he thought, that you could have a conversation without the words really relating to what you were actually talking about. It was a game he enjoyed playing. He indulged with it frequently with Ianto before, when things were better.
His face broke a little at her dry humour (something else he was accustomed to), a smile that turned into a laugh, and a laugh that involved his whole face; little creases appearing as his eyes as he glances down at the ground and back up at her.
"Oh I think it's what was behind the tree that's a little more interesting," he said with a lift of his chin and a pointed look in her direction.
Reply
Was disarming. Dangerously so. Enough that for the whole of it she simply stood there watching him. And for a full, full second after. She would not go so far as to use the word captivating. But it was something, however vague and undefined.
She was quite aware that mostly likely she was caught looking.
Her own chin lifted slightly.
"I am afraid, sir, that I remain unable to return the compliment. As of yet."
And with that she sank into a curtsy. There was something playful in it, almost mocking.
"Jeanne-Antionette Poisson."
Reply
It was a little like he treated people when working out if he thought they were 'Torchwood material', though that at the same time was far from what he was doing.
"Nice to meet you, Jeanne-Antoinette Poisson," he said with a smirk, parroting her name back to her as he watched her move. It was familiar, and in the back of his head he thought he should know it.
He didn't give his name.
Reply
As she stood Reinette kept her gaze level on Jack, steady during the entire journey upwards. It was simply yet another perspective to view him in.
And then she took another step. And then another. Followed by and another and even another still until she she had fully circled around his form. To the casual observer it might have looked as if they were dancing.
From near his shoulder she spoke.
"That was most impolite."
Reply
His head turned just so to watch her as she moved, looking at her through half veiled eyelids.
Over the years Jack had adopted many a persona, and there were many he could slip into at a moments notice. And that's what he did now, a sudden yet fluid shift into a suave, chivalrous demeanour.
He turned now, his body animating as he shifted to face her, his hand directed out towards her as though he might shake it.
"Then let me correct that," he said, even his tone containing a smirk, "Captain Jack Harkness."
Reply
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