-1764-

-Versailles-


The Palace was so gray in the rain, so miserable. And along with the Lady, all of the life had left as well. Even the King was subdued, forgoing with ceremony and wandering the halls aimlessly. He spoke to no one but himself, and only in the early hours of the day. She kept her mind on her work, that was the safest way. She polished the floors so that they continued to shine, though she doubted anyone would notice, or be able to enjoy it any time soon. He had sent all of the courtiers away; there would be no parties in the halls, no celebration. No guests to enjoy the splendor of Versailles.

"Reinette?" She heard the voice echoing down the halls, so quiet she thought she had imagined it. Lifting her head, she listened intently. Perhaps she had just imagined it, her body ached from spending most of the morning hunched over the marble tiles and she was already exhausted. Or perhaps the King had finally gone mad from his grief; it would not surprise her in the least. She remembered that feeling, that dark empty pit where there was only pain and misery.

"Are you there, Reinette?" This time it was louder, and it didn't sound like the King. Something was wrong; she stuffed her towel into her apron and stood on numb legs. She couldn't be sure, but she thought it had come from the late Lady's rooms, which was odd in itself since the King had refused anyone entry. It stood like a tomb in the palace, cold and abandoned. She was surprised he had not boarded it up.

She made her way down the empty halls as quietly as she could, not truly wanting to disturb the King, but knowing it was her duty to make sure he was not having some kind of fit. When she finally crossed the threshold of the room, she found it just as it had been for days, empty. No one was there at all. Perhaps she had imagined it.

But. The fireplace was crackling away, freshly lit. She spun in place, searching for a sign that someone had been there, but she could find none. Aside from the burning wood, there was no indication anyone had been here at all. Perhaps one of the newer servants had inadvertently lit this fire to keep out the damp chill of the weather, not yet knowing that this room was not to be disturbed. She didn't want an errant spark flying up and scorching the carpets, so she went to extinguish the flames. She did her best to spread the coals out on the stone pit and went to work sweeping up the ash that had spread.

"Oh," A dull voice spoke from behind her. And yet, it was a familiar one. "I'm sorry." She turned, with her heart in her throat, and there he was. His wild hair was somewhat subdued atop his head, matching his somber appearance. He dragged his hand across the back of his neck and stared at the fireplace, a haunted look filling his eyes. "I was just going to…I'll finish that." He offered.

"Doctor?" She felt a hesitant smile reach her lips, and his eyes switched to look at her then. But there was no recognition there, only confusion.

"Yes?" He asked her skeptically.

"Doctor, it's me." She felt her own bewilderment start to rise. "Calypso?" She offered.

"It's nice to meet you. How do you know my name? Did Reinette-?" He couldn't finish the thought but she could see the pain wash through him.

"Doctor," She forced herself to smile, even as the lump of dread crawled up from her stomach. She was afraid to ask, too afraid because she already knew the answer. But she had to. "Where's…your necklace?" Her voice was unnaturally high and she realized she was twisting the towel in her hands nervously.

"Necklace? I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand." He stepped closer to the fireplace, eyeing her warily.

"The necklace, with the beads-" But the words died on her lips. There was no familiarity in his face, no sign that he had even the remotest idea of what she was talking about, or who she was. She did her best to keep the polite smile on her face. It surprised her that it would hurt this badly, to have him not know her at all. "Never mind." She whispered, her fingers unconsciously rising to the necklace that lay beneath her own collar. He frowned, knowing she was upset, but not having the slightest clue why.

"What have you got there?" He saw where her fingers traced and thought he recognized something, something that didn't belong in the eighteenth century.

"It's nothing." She shook her head, her voice was thick and she cleared her throat, turning to finish her work of dusting up the burnt ashes.

"That's not nothing." He walked toward her and pulled out a pair of black rimmed spectacles, casually flipping the edge of her dress back. She was reminded of the day he had given it to her, the way his fingers had brushed against her skin. But that was not this man, not even close, and it wounded her to have him scowl at her so suspiciously.

"This is wire…" He mumbled. "And micro-couplings. How did-" His dark brown eyes stared deep into hers and she shivered. They were dangerous, frightening, in their intensity. "Where did you get this?" His voice was commandingly serious. She could see where civilizations had crumbled to dust under that gaze.

"You gave it to me." She knew not answering wasn't an option, and the only answers she had were the truth.

"I what?" His eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline.

"The beads," She started again, her mouth was dry but if she stopped, she wasn't sure she'd have the nerve to continue. "It's meant to keep track of how often we've met."

He looked down at the necklace again, and she felt relieved that his gaze was directed elsewhere. When they returned to her, that fearsome quality had faded.

"There's five," He said, with doubt clearly etched across his face.

"This'll make six." She tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

"I've met you six times?" She was pretty sure his eyebrows were permanently fixed at that point on his forehead now.

"Yes," She swallowed, trying to remember how he had explained it. It was easy for it to get jumbled in her mind, lost in the time spent when he wasn't around. The way he said things, the words he used, no one else spoke that way. Sometimes she got to the point where she thought maybe it was just a series of dreams she was having, something to help her cope with the gaps between her falling asleep in one place and waking in another.

"You told me you were a time traveler." She started. "And, you said I was, as well. Except, you can control where you go. I only leap forward. That's why we don't always meet in order…or, remember meeting."

"Oh," He said, finally releasing the necklace and sitting back on his haunches. He seemed to understand and she was grateful because she wasn't sure she was able to explain it any better. "I see." He nodded. "I'm sorry then. I suppose I'm being rude." He held out his hand, offering to shake. "Calypso, you said?"

"Yes." She took his hand, but awkwardly. It felt wrong to be greeting him as a stranger. It felt like that hole in her heart that she had pushed away would suddenly open wider and swallow her completely.

"It's nice to meet you, Calypso. Looking forward to the next time." He smiled, but she could see that it wasn't genuine; it didn't quite reach his eyes. "You'll have to excuse me." He nodded his head once to the fireplace. "I've really got to be going." His quick dismissal added to that sharp pain, but she did her best to push it aside.

"Wait!" She reached out for his arm, not wanting him to go, despite his brusque manner. But it wasn't just that; it was the necklace, the one he didn't have yet. She had seen it before. He looked down at her grip with a frown and she snatched her hands back. "Please, just wait."

"Calypso, I'm sorry. I've got to go." He shook his head.

"Just a moment. I swear, it will only be a moment." She promised him. "I have something I have to give you." Her eyes pleaded with him, and she thought he would deny her, she didn't know if she would be able to recover from that. But something in him softened, and she felt relief wash through her. He would still be her Doctor; he was still in there, somewhere, some when.

"Alright then. But I really can't wait long." He stuffed his hands into his pockets, looking like a weary old man.

"I'll be just a moment." She assured him, rushing out of the room. She knew the pearls; they had been boxed up with the rest of the Lady's items, stuffed away in one of the spare rooms. She ran as she went, afraid that he wouldn't wait for her, not certain why she knew it mattered. She found the room quickly enough and then there it was, the small wooden case set upon one of the dressers. It was largely 'worthless' jewels, nothing the king had given to her, and nothing that she would be buried with. She found what she was looking for almost immediately. A silver strand that sparkled even in the dimness of the room, and a pearl necklace. She winced at the thought of destroying such a lovely piece, but she snapped the line of pearls resolutely, causing the loose pearls to scatter in the box. She placed all of the beads, save one she saved for the silver thread, in a small velvet satchel that had once held a fine ring.

She hurried back to the room, and was relieved to see he was still waiting. Now he stood facing the rain-streaked window, staring outside. She walked up behind him, following his gaze. They both watched as the wagon disappeared behind the hill, down the long road to Paris. She pressed her lips together; she knew that look, that sense of loss. It rolled off him like a sickly perfume.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, startling him from his mood. "I know what it's like. To lose someone." He spared her a brief glance before returning his eyes to the horizon.

"I lose everyone." He muttered, mostly to himself.

"Here," She said, holding the necklace aloft. "So you can keep track." She sniffed, trying not to let her own sorrow overwhelm her. She placed the bag in his hand, along with the silver string, and he accepted it with a small smile.

"Thank you." He nodded to her, stuffing the items into his pocket.

"Of course." She stepped back from the window. "Good bye, Doctor." She said with a smile that she didn't quite feel. She turned to leave the room, reassuring herself that this was the only time she would feel so utterly alone while he was still there.

"Calypso." His voice stopped her at the door, she had to hold herself steady as she turned back to face him. "I'm sorry." He offered with a sympathetic look. "I'm just-" He sighed and crossed the room to stand near her again. "I'm a bitter old man." The beginnings of a real smile pulled at his lips. "It was lovely to meet you." He took her hands and squeezed them companionably. "And I hope to see you again soon." She felt her own smile returning, genuine this time. That reassured him and he gave another quick squeeze of her hands. He strode back over to the fireplace, pulling some lever that she couldn't see.

"Allons-y." He gave her a quick salute and the wall spun in place, taking him with it. The fireplace was cold and dead as it should be, and she shivered, alone in the empty room.