Reinette could not answer why Jack was in France, let alone in her particular part of it. So she held her silence on the matter. Though she would vehemently deny it to anyone that pressed, she was a woman long accustomed to waiting. It was where she perfected the art of filling the time between. The Doctor was there. Louis. Jack, even. Take full advantage of the time that they were.
Instead she offered one thing she did know.
"Despite my actions by the stables, I am glad that you are here Jack."
Another potentially weak admission. But truly, with everything that was said before? What harm could be found in it.
He was asking a woman that watched so many leave from her life that she had become quite proficient at it in turn. Charles was the first to fill the sting of her skill. Most recently Louis. Once Reinette turned down the Doctor's offer to travel, and though there had been momentary pangs of regret she ultimately knew she had made the right decision. There was so much ahead of her then. And then too, of course, the look of relief that passed over the Doctor's features, to mingle with the hurt. He had wanted her with him then, yes. But he was also petrified of having her as well.
Timelines, she imagined. Jack had mentioned them often enough already. And so they mutually decided it was for the best, he relaced her down and she was sent off to to her future with a king.
Was it the same now, with Jack? Was it only half an offer? She searched his features for an answer. Because her future was so much less vertain now. Madame leBon had said nothing of what would be after. And it allowed for a different word.
Jack watched her, watched and as she spoke; ducked his head.
"Yeah," he said, and if someone could read his face well they'd be able to notice the crease near his eyes, the twitch of his lip. An almost smile, but never fully realised.
"Yeah," he nodded as he repeated himself. And though he didn't say it in so many words, he was agreeing. Yes, he was glad he was there too.
He looked at her again as he waited for her answer. His position had shifted, forward a little, closer a little to the edge of the couch. A near imperceptible inner enthusiasm.
Upon her words, he nodded and shifted yet again. This time he tapped a finger against the strap on his wrist. "You see this thing? Well this thing is how I got here. This thing could take me away again. It could take me anywhere. It could take you too, if you like."
With only the briefest glances for permission Reinette reached to take Jack's wrist between her two hands, pulling it close so the she could better examine it. Her fingertips brushed lightly over the aged leather. It seemed such a small thing to hold such power. But she did not doubt his words.
She explored the small device one final time before looking back at Jack, aware that her hat was in eminent danger of being crushed. Truly it did not matter, though.
Her eyes for his.
"You hardly know me Jack. Do you really wish to take me with you? What of the timelines you are so protective of?"
It was strange to have someone touch his manipulator. It was one of those things he held as dear as his secrets. He didn't let people touch it, he rarely spoke about it. It was his only constant, and his absence from it in the six months post the events in September 2009 only highlighted how alone and without even himself he was.
But perhaps stranger was the fact that but for perhaps a slight bristle, he didn't mind Reinette paying such attention to it. Quite the opposite, in fact.
"Open it, if you like," he said with a nod towards her, looking at her hand and his wrist before his gaze returning to eyes.
"It doesn't have to do anything to timelines," he said, somewhat naively. "That's the beauty of it. And who said anything about me taking you with me. I'm talking about going for a trip. A holiday. Bit of sightseeing."
After one more glance in his direction, Reinette moved to deftly open the small device. There was more of it then, another wave of leather and whatever it was that made Jack Jack. It seemed to be kept in there, rather like a compact. Her fingers continued to move over it even as her mouth compressed.
She had not imagined his offer, but she appreciated his playful denial. Saying one thing and meaning quite another. Yes, he would do well at court.
Reinette lifted her head up to smile at Jack.
"And whereever you are going on this holiday? You will be hiding behind more tress, I imagine? That is hardly tempting anyway."
"Careful," he said with a tone and a smile that said although the words might be true, they were little more than teasing. "Touch one of those buttons and you might blow a hole somewhere over the channel. Either that or just open that door."
He laughed a little, soft and easy.
"Oh it wouldn't be a trip without a tree," he said with a false air of seriousness and a laugh that said it was anything but.
"But there's more out there," he said, a little softer. "Much more."
Reinette actually laughed. It felt strange in the small space, if only because it was difficult to mask it as anything other as what it was. Sheer pleasure at his company. There simply was no time to do so.
"Well, as long as the hole falls on the side of England," she teased in return, stoutly patriotic.
Her gaze grew softer.
"Careful Jack. You are seeming quite excited at the prospect of traveling and the opportunity to meet more trees. It is not the look of a man that has forgotten how."
"Oh careful now," he laughed. "I'm a citizen, you know."
His laugh faded though, and so did his smile.
"You see so many trees and after a while you stop noticing the leaves," he said with a shrug. He wanted to make light of his statement, perhaps due to just how true it was.
It was always the eyes of others though, that opened his. In the past there were friends or lovers, then more recently his team. He needed his team, and it hadn't just been to assist with Torchwood. He'd needed them. He needed their humanity.
"I will do my best not to hold it against you then," Reinette replied briskly, choosing that moment to stand. She allowed her hand to carefully fall away from his wrist.
She crossed the room and moved over to a small, delicately carved round table that held a single potted orchid. It was one of the few flowers that consistently bloomed through the winter, and Reinette always kept them nearby. She loved the gardens of Versailles, and worked directly with the gardeners to supervise their seasonal design. There was something comforting, she thought, in how they returned to her every season. Far, far more reliable than people.
Reinette carefully removed one of the leaves. It was a dark emerald green, obviously well cared for with its delicate veins threading outward. She pressed it into Jack's hand.
"So look at them now."
There was a knock at the door and she turned her head sharply towards it. She had nearly forgotten breakfast.
Jack furrowed his brow slightly as Reinette stood and moved. He didn't know what she was doing, and he was intrigued to find out. It dawned though, when he saw the flower and her hand reach for the leaf. He could have laughed, but he didn't. To laugh would have somehow been to disparige, and he didn't wish to do that.
He took the leaf and turned it between his fingers. And look at it he did. He looked at the veins that spanned out across it, and the way that the light seeped through it and seemed to make it illuminate. He didn't speak then, because he though that right now words weren't necessary, and he didn't need to pad out the conversation.
The knock at the door though pulled him from his task, and he took a breath out, closing his hand around the leaf.
Reinette glanced over her shoulder from where she moved towards the door. She was smiling.
"Indeed."
She opened the door to a tall, well built gentleman with spangled blond hair he kept short as a nod to his chosen profession. It was not fashionable, but he had no need to be. The child of two farmers he had a body built from a youth of hard labor, and large, capable hands. All of this was hardly original. It was his eyes that seemed to capture people, Reinette observed most often. They were a deep emerald green that seemed to hold an inexplicable dash of turquoise. He seemed all in all unaware of his own beauty.
That was what Reinette found appealing.
"Phillipe," she greeted him with a warm smile, stepping aside to give him room to place the large tray he carried down.
"This is Jack. He will be staying with me for a while, I think."
Jack didn't stand to greet the new arrival. Many would qualify his actions (or lack thereof) as rude, but it wasn't so much that. He was well placed where he was now, and had a decent enough vantage point to access the new arrival.
"Phillipe," Jack repeated, and even the manner with which he spoke the name seemed to hold some sort of unsaid quality. Rich and thick and full of promise. But at the same time, it was nothing.
"Good to meet you," he said, and leaned forward a little, resting his forearm against his knee in a way that made the movement even more spoken than should he have stood.
And then, as a private joke (and nothing but that), he looked to Reinette and then back to Phillipe before smirking, just slightly. "Very good to meet you."
Reinette watched Jack with no small amount of amusement. He really was quite good. She might have laughed again but it would only have confused Phillipe.
She nodded at her chef briefly, a dismissal.
"Thank you for your personal attention. I have no doubt that breakfast will be exquisite. I spoke quite highly of you."
And that, then was a glance for Jack's benefit alone.
With a brief bow Phillipe left the room, and they were alone again.
As Phillipe stepped out Jack stepped up. By the time the door had clicked closed he was standing behind Reinette, just a breath away.
"Oh personal attention?" he enquired salaciously. "Now I understand why you have him around."
He teased again, just teasing. He had a feeling she'd understood the subtleties in his movements just now. Nobody would ever notice, but she was sharp, and he thought she very likely had the eye for it.
Reinette turned nothing but her chin. She held her entire form still as she directed her voice towards Jack. She could feel his breath on her neck. He truly was quite good, and if he was an adept translator he would recognize her smile as an award of sorts for his efforts.
"Yes," she said softly, after all he was so close. "He is most creative when it comes to food."
And he was. She had heard the stories well enough for all that she had not taken part. Phillipe was a happy man, rare enough in Versailles. He embraced life, he embraced his partners in bed, and he embraced food all with an equal joy de verve.
Jack enjoyed this, he enjoyed it a lot. Because she saw him, and rarely since his years training for the Agency had he met people with such skill. But hers though, it was somehow more pure, or it seemed so. Even if it was just as trained as his, hers, like his, seemed to have evolved to its own art.
"And I'm sure he likes to spice things up."
He grinned and leaned himself forward, just the top part of his body, his legs barely even twitching
He laughed too at her suggestion, a light way of brushing it off. "Oh but would I object to his?"
The truth was Jack wasn't looking for a bed partner. He wasn't sure he was ready for that.
Instead she offered one thing she did know.
"Despite my actions by the stables, I am glad that you are here Jack."
Another potentially weak admission. But truly, with everything that was said before? What harm could be found in it.
He was asking a woman that watched so many leave from her life that she had become quite proficient at it in turn. Charles was the first to fill the sting of her skill. Most recently Louis. Once Reinette turned down the Doctor's offer to travel, and though there had been momentary pangs of regret she ultimately knew she had made the right decision. There was so much ahead of her then. And then too, of course, the look of relief that passed over the Doctor's features, to mingle with the hurt. He had wanted her with him then, yes. But he was also petrified of having her as well.
Timelines, she imagined. Jack had mentioned them often enough already. And so they mutually decided it was for the best, he relaced her down and she was sent off to to her future with a king.
Was it the same now, with Jack? Was it only half an offer? She searched his features for an answer. Because her future was so much less vertain now. Madame leBon had said nothing of what would be after. And it allowed for a different word.
"Yes."
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"Yeah," he said, and if someone could read his face well they'd be able to notice the crease near his eyes, the twitch of his lip. An almost smile, but never fully realised.
"Yeah," he nodded as he repeated himself. And though he didn't say it in so many words, he was agreeing. Yes, he was glad he was there too.
He looked at her again as he waited for her answer. His position had shifted, forward a little, closer a little to the edge of the couch. A near imperceptible inner enthusiasm.
Upon her words, he nodded and shifted yet again. This time he tapped a finger against the strap on his wrist. "You see this thing? Well this thing is how I got here. This thing could take me away again. It could take me anywhere. It could take you too, if you like."
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She explored the small device one final time before looking back at Jack, aware that her hat was in eminent danger of being crushed. Truly it did not matter, though.
Her eyes for his.
"You hardly know me Jack. Do you really wish to take me with you? What of the timelines you are so protective of?"
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But perhaps stranger was the fact that but for perhaps a slight bristle, he didn't mind Reinette paying such attention to it. Quite the opposite, in fact.
"Open it, if you like," he said with a nod towards her, looking at her hand and his wrist before his gaze returning to eyes.
"It doesn't have to do anything to timelines," he said, somewhat naively. "That's the beauty of it. And who said anything about me taking you with me. I'm talking about going for a trip. A holiday. Bit of sightseeing."
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She had not imagined his offer, but she appreciated his playful denial. Saying one thing and meaning quite another. Yes, he would do well at court.
Reinette lifted her head up to smile at Jack.
"And whereever you are going on this holiday? You will be hiding behind more tress, I imagine? That is hardly tempting anyway."
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He laughed a little, soft and easy.
"Oh it wouldn't be a trip without a tree," he said with a false air of seriousness and a laugh that said it was anything but.
"But there's more out there," he said, a little softer. "Much more."
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"Well, as long as the hole falls on the side of England," she teased in return, stoutly patriotic.
Her gaze grew softer.
"Careful Jack. You are seeming quite excited at the prospect of traveling and the opportunity to meet more trees. It is not the look of a man that has forgotten how."
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His laugh faded though, and so did his smile.
"You see so many trees and after a while you stop noticing the leaves," he said with a shrug. He wanted to make light of his statement, perhaps due to just how true it was.
It was always the eyes of others though, that opened his. In the past there were friends or lovers, then more recently his team. He needed his team, and it hadn't just been to assist with Torchwood. He'd needed them. He needed their humanity.
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She crossed the room and moved over to a small, delicately carved round table that held a single potted orchid. It was one of the few flowers that consistently bloomed through the winter, and Reinette always kept them nearby. She loved the gardens of Versailles, and worked directly with the gardeners to supervise their seasonal design. There was something comforting, she thought, in how they returned to her every season. Far, far more reliable than people.
Reinette carefully removed one of the leaves. It was a dark emerald green, obviously well cared for with its delicate veins threading outward. She pressed it into Jack's hand.
"So look at them now."
There was a knock at the door and she turned her head sharply towards it. She had nearly forgotten breakfast.
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He took the leaf and turned it between his fingers. And look at it he did. He looked at the veins that spanned out across it, and the way that the light seeped through it and seemed to make it illuminate. He didn't speak then, because he though that right now words weren't necessary, and he didn't need to pad out the conversation.
The knock at the door though pulled him from his task, and he took a breath out, closing his hand around the leaf.
"Ah this chef of yours..."
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"Indeed."
She opened the door to a tall, well built gentleman with spangled blond hair he kept short as a nod to his chosen profession. It was not fashionable, but he had no need to be. The child of two farmers he had a body built from a youth of hard labor, and large, capable hands. All of this was hardly original. It was his eyes that seemed to capture people, Reinette observed most often. They were a deep emerald green that seemed to hold an inexplicable dash of turquoise. He seemed all in all unaware of his own beauty.
That was what Reinette found appealing.
"Phillipe," she greeted him with a warm smile, stepping aside to give him room to place the large tray he carried down.
"This is Jack. He will be staying with me for a while, I think."
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"Phillipe," Jack repeated, and even the manner with which he spoke the name seemed to hold some sort of unsaid quality. Rich and thick and full of promise. But at the same time, it was nothing.
"Good to meet you," he said, and leaned forward a little, resting his forearm against his knee in a way that made the movement even more spoken than should he have stood.
And then, as a private joke (and nothing but that), he looked to Reinette and then back to Phillipe before smirking, just slightly. "Very good to meet you."
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She nodded at her chef briefly, a dismissal.
"Thank you for your personal attention. I have no doubt that breakfast will be exquisite. I spoke quite highly of you."
And that, then was a glance for Jack's benefit alone.
With a brief bow Phillipe left the room, and they were alone again.
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"Oh personal attention?" he enquired salaciously. "Now I understand why you have him around."
He teased again, just teasing. He had a feeling she'd understood the subtleties in his movements just now. Nobody would ever notice, but she was sharp, and he thought she very likely had the eye for it.
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"Yes," she said softly, after all he was so close. "He is most creative when it comes to food."
And he was. She had heard the stories well enough for all that she had not taken part. Phillipe was a happy man, rare enough in Versailles. He embraced life, he embraced his partners in bed, and he embraced food all with an equal joy de verve.
"Nor will he object to your companionship."
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"And I'm sure he likes to spice things up."
He grinned and leaned himself forward, just the top part of his body, his legs barely even twitching
He laughed too at her suggestion, a light way of brushing it off. "Oh but would I object to his?"
The truth was Jack wasn't looking for a bed partner. He wasn't sure he was ready for that.
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