onlysayinghello: ([reinette] never left)
The snap of the velvet box shutting is muffled, a soft muted sound that still has a sharp contrast of sound to it even from his position standing behind her. The line of sight granted to him allows her eyes to catch to his in the mirror. Her features so delicate barely give away any hint of emotion, knowing that there are others still watching. Ladies that had helped draw laces in tighter and aided her in taking a seat before Jack was even allowed entrance to her chambers. There were whispers of rumors, but nothing that anyone could prove beyond that of a woman of stature defining herself merely by the level of company she kept. He was after all a man of her theatre, and the times they shared often were spoken of solely as if it was expected that they would discuss future plans for performances.

A single word dismissed them with a polite curtsy met with Jack's proper bow in return. The exhale of breath she let out was greeted with a smirk upon his features, "My Lady, laced too tight this eve? I'm certain I can assist with such a burden."

Her eyes sparkled in that moment meeting his gaze through the mirror and his smile returned warm and telling that while he could help, he knew that his place... at this moment was not in her bed. This time he had brought her a gift, and she was still quite unsure of what she had done to deserve such a thing.

"You know you still have not told me, if you like it."

The draw of breath in came a moment before her fingertips brushed to the bare spot of skin above the lace detail from the plunging neckline of her gown. His eyes could not help but be drawn downward to gaze where they rest. A step forward pressed his hips to her back as hands reached over her shoulders to open the small box once more. Withdrawing the gold strand the pendant shone in the dim lighting of her room, her own eyes dropping to take in the stone once more. Opening the clasp, Jack allowed both ends to rest between fingertips as his other hand swept loose tendrils of hair away from her neck. The ghost of his touch cooler against the warmth of her skin still feeling the heat from the bath, and the movement of being dressed.

Taking each end into his hands he guided it around her neck, seeing where the stone fell across pale skin, and the chain caught the light as it flickered from a candle that was lit nearby. Closing the clasp and letting it fall against the nape of her neck he once more caught sight of slender fingertips ghosting above the opalescent pendant that was smooth beneath her fingertips.

"Jack..."

Even if she was going to express how much it meant, or how much she loved it Jack didn't really need to hear it. Seeing the look in her eyes, the way it seemed to just fit to her and the way she carried herself was gift enough to him. Leaning down his mouth fit against the curve of her neck a press of his lips to her skin left there a lingering moment too long before he stood and smiled at her.

"It will never outshine your beauty my Lady," Jack stated to her as if it was more than just what he knew, but if it was something everyone knew. Taking his few steps away from her he bowed politely and headed toward the door of her chambers. Pausing for a moment within the frame of the open door he cast her a smile as she watched him leave, "Perhaps my Lady will save me a dance this evening."

Her head bowed with such grace and dignity even as her smile shone bright in her eyes and the curve of her mouth, "Perhaps she shall."
onlysayinghello: ([dead] text - boy with the thorn)
The first time he dies in front of her she's not sure what's happening. To be fair, at the time he's not even sure who she is at all. She's still just another face out of focus in the back of his mind that pulls to the front in the midst of a dream he wishes he could remember better. Of course those dreams come more frequent, and draw in sharper over time, but still... he wouldn't have known her if she'd walked up to him that very day. It's Jack though, and of course he would have taken notice, but he doesn't know her... not the way she knows him.

Though who really knows Jack Harkness at all? He's just a borrowed name with a history that no one can explain away even if they tried. The people at his work don't understand him, they just know that he doesn't die. Even that secret he kept from them until he couldn't anymore. Being shot in the Hub sort of kills the suspense when you get back up again despite dying a few moments before.

She doesn't know that though... )

[ooc: Written as Jack's Perspective on this piece written by Ambitious-Woman here. Based on the 'Two Years Gained' Verse with Reinette.]
onlysayinghello: ([expressive] smile slight compassion)
You have to accept the fact that part of the sizzle of sex comes from the danger of sex.
You can be overpowered. - Camille Paglia



Fingertips trace lightly against the leather, the strap once so secured to his wrist, now lays at the bedside table so often forgotten. Shaking his head a bit he tries to think about the life he had before this. Just how foolishly he'd lived it all. Running scams, taking what he pleased from life... now trapped in a time where all that he knew had little value he wondered just how he was going to survive. Still there were moments of hope straying in between all the ones where he felt like giving up.

Meeting her in the garden that afternoon and almost sure he was hearing things when she knew that his Doctor and her Doctor were the same. It still seems like a dream, like a world that he'd figured he would simply drop into and then leave without any effort and it's just been clinging to him since that day. The more he stops to look at her the more he feels this life pulling him closer, drawing him into accepting that this is exactly where he will live out his days.

It wasn't so bad though.

Moving from his room into the hallways... )
onlysayinghello: ([emote] last man standing)
You wonder... what could a man do that could merit robbing him of two years. Seven hundred and thirty days just wiped clean like a chalkboard. How could something truly be worth the trouble... worth all the effort it would take to do such a thing? Often mistakes are made and when dealing with time and space small events spark larger catastrophes, but deep down... what is really at fault here? Is it the man for trying to make the world a better place? Or is it the world for being unwilling to allow such a change.

Another question that should come to mind is just what happens when a man whose timeline has been overlapped over itself countless times loses those years? How matter of fact can a man be when time is at question?


Two Years Gone )

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onlysayinghello

August 2010

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