"Well, I must say, Doctor, you certainly are a wonderful dancer." Reinette smiled coyly at him as they danced around the ballroom.

"I'd have to give most of the credit to you, you're the one who's leading." It was true. Reinette carefully led him while making it look like he was.

Reinette lowered her eyes and gave a small, charming laugh.

Ha! Madame Pompadour is flirting with me! Flirting! The Doctor grinned. Suddenly, the music ended, and they walked off the floor.

"Come with me, Doctor. There are so many rooms in this palace, and I do wish to show you a few." Reinette took him by the hand and led him out of the room, much to the raised eyebrows and speculative glances of the courtesans.

Skirts swishing, she led him down a hallway filled with art, and turned off into a small room with dark blue wallpaper. The Doctor walked in, hands clasped behind his back. "Well, it's a very pretty room, by 21st century standards, but nothing special by yours. I mean, not to be offensive, but what's in here?" It was true. The room lacked windows, and there were a few unspectacular paintings on the wall, and a prettily carved table, but that was it.

Reinette, who had been standing by the table, walked over to him. "What's in here, you ask? Why, just you and me."

The Doctor's eyes went wide with alarm as he realized what Reinette's plan was. "Um, well, you see-" Reinette came closer, leaving a precious few inches between them. "Reinette, this isn't, I mean-"

Reinette closed the gap and kissed him.

The Doctor's hearts were pounding, and not in a good way. There was just something so wrong about this. It wasn't that she was meant for the king. It was something else that he just couldn't put his finger on.

He broke the kiss and stepped back a good foot. "Reinette, no."

Her eyes clouded with confusion. "My angel, what's wrong?"

"We just can't do this, it won't work. You are a beautiful woman, don't get me wrong, but I just... can't."

Reinette suddenly looked far less pretty as her eyebrows drew together in anger. "I see. It's that child, isn't it? I may be able to beat every other woman in court, but not a simple girl? What is so special about her, Doctor? What could make you fall in love with such a common being?"

Now it was the Doctor's turn to get angry, even as his heartbeat quickened with the truth of her words. "Her name is Rose, and she is no simple girl. And she has never been common to me."

Reinette turned away and let out a tired laugh. "Beaten by a child. What a fate for Madame Pompadour."

The Doctor hurried over to her, worried by the tone of her voice. "Reinette, you don't know Rose... She's really brilliant. And I'm sorry, I am, but... Oh, if you knew her... There could never be anyone else for me."

Reinette looked into his eyes, and her face softened. "It's true, isn't it?"

The Doctor nodded solemnly.

Reinette smiled then, and she suddenly looked amused. "Well then, have you told her?" The question hung in the air for a second before the Doctor answered.

"No. But I will as soon as I see her again. Thank you, Reinette."

She let out a laugh again, but this one was neither small or coy. The Doctor realized with a start that he was hearing Madame Pompadour's true laugh. "You hardly needed my help, Doctor. You needed a push in the right direction."

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And later that night, when the Doctor had finally gotten up the courage, and his head swam with kisses and happiness, he knew he could never be grateful enough for what Reinette had given him.