The Perfect Weapon Chapter 12 part 3 section 4 of 5

[camillecarelli]

As she toweled his hair, his head leaning against her chest, she began speaking softly, able to say the words as long as he was not looking at her. "I know now why you do that for me…it's exciting."

"Yes. And…"

"And," she mumbled so softly that he could barely hear it, "it made me feel…."

'Powerful' was unspoken, but acknowledged by both of them when he said, "Yes." 
"But more than that, it made me feel good to give something to you like that, to love you like that, to show you I loved you like that." Enjoying what she was doing, watching his back and shoulders in the mirror, it took her a moment to realize that his mouth had strayed downward, his hand upward and he was cupping her breast to his mouth.

"Yes. It's special, something you do only for the person you love," he agreed as he kissed the soft flesh over her heart.

"Dave told me….once, that when you give you receive." She put the towel aside and picked up a brush and began stroking it through his hair, curling with the dampness still clinging to it.

"Well, of course he would. It's basic--"

"Positive reinforcement."

He looked up and they grinned at each other. He slowly circled a nipple with his tongue and then whispered against her skin, "It's an endless cycle, a circle, isn't it?"

"Yessss. Oooh. You love, so you give, then if the person loves you - you receive, which makes you want to give more, which results in you receiving more and then you…" She put the brush down to stroke her hands up through his hair as his mouth moved across her skin. 
"Over and over and over." His tongue moved to the other breast and began licking it in smaller and smaller and smaller circles, approaching the center as he spoke, until his mouth just rested against her nipple.

"Without end?" She moaned, very softly, as he gently, so gently suckled her nipple into his mouth…the warmth nearly undid her.

"Forever," he breathed against her flesh and then sitting up straight, sealed the promise with a kiss.

"And a day. A day like today…" she whispered, hoping….for what she wasn't quite certain, could not put her finger on it. What was she seeking, she wondered, as he nuzzled into her softness, kissed her, held her in his hands, even as her hands stroked the body of her beloved….

There were no harsh gestures, no fast movements, just slow, languid strokes of the tongue and fingers, soft open-mouthed kisses over every tiny little bit of her skin, as if he knew, somehow, someway, just what she needed in this moment of discovery. Even the bites were so restrained, so soft, that she had trouble telling the difference between his lips and his teeth. As his hands cupped and fingers caressed and his face rubbed and nuzzled into her, as his mouth pursed and suckled and kissed and licked she felt as if she could stay here forever, just with him, just the two of them in this tiny room. Just stand forever brushing his hair, looking at him in the mirror. Seeing his adored face against her body, loving her. Seeing her hands touch him, unable to stop herself from stroking his hair, his neck, his back, just touching for no other reason than that it felt good. No, more than good. It felt…necessary. Could that be? Had it become necessary to touch him like this? When, how? Why? No….

This touching was…she had never truly experienced anything like it before, had never allowed herself to truly experience it before, this touching that went beyond sexuality, went beyond tactile pleasure, went beyond anything as it pulled the tether ever tighter between them…as she opened herself up to it, allowed it in. Their desire was not just sexual desire, but something more, something much more, a desire for a connection, a need. Was it, could it be….need? Dave had told her that in giving she might find herself, a part of herself she had not even known, had not even known was missing….was this what was missing? By trying to give, she had found she had a previously-unknown capacity to give…. But was that all, she asked herself, looking into the mirror, seeing to the woman hidden inside…What else was there? What else might she find, if she looked hard enough, gave enough? Was it need, the capacity to need? And…maybe that was not a good thing. Or maybe it was. It felt right, this touching, this giving….that she felt closer to him now….

But then she realized something she had been too blind to see….isn't that what all their touching was, a way to pull them together, ever closer? Or ever closer as long as she allowed him in, as long as he allowed her in…In the warmth of the room, the warmth between them, she knew she would never be cold again. And that she was lost.

And then he looked up, with such love, such innocent happiness on his face and said, simply, "I love you, Laura" and she was found.

Looking into her own face in the mirror, for once not avoiding the depths of her own gaze, she was startled. Who was that? What was that? Was that…joy? 
Pressing his face to her chest, she allowed a tear to slide down her own face as she wondered how she would ever find the strength to walk away from him. Wondered if she had made a great mistake in allowing herself to be both lost and found….If she did not guard her…heart, when she left, would she be lost forevermore?

"I love you too, Jack," she said softly, as she wondered, hoped, this connection between them….would it, it had to, it would always exist. This kind of connection could not be broken. No matter where she was, no matter what she was doing, she would not be lost as long as she had it, as long as she could feel it. And she would. After all, he had promised. Forever and a day. And Jack never broke his promises.

She wrapped her arms around him and held on tightly. Wished she could just capture these moments. Hold onto them forever. Hoped this day would never end. Looking into the mirror, she memorized the moment, their bodies entwined, her dark hair draping over his shoulders, his mouth against her skin, his eyes open and looking at her with the same love she saw in her own eyes. Looked and looked and looked so that she could stop the clock from ticking and hold onto the moment forevermore.

Ever more

Ever more 
Ever more

She looked out the window of the plane into the infinite darkness of space and sighed.

She looked around the plane, trying to find him. Where was he? She couldn't see him or hear him. Oh well, might as well remember the rest of that day. It was a good memory. A great memory really. Special. If…somewhat…scary to be that open, that honest. But… it was not truly frightening to be vulnerable with Jack. He had always and would always catch her after all.

She heard his voice finally, looked casually over in the direction of the sound. What was he doing? Oh, brother. A bunch of men all huddled around some piece of electronic equipment when he could be…playing a game with her, thank you very much. But she knew better than to interrupt men playing with their gadgets. She smiled at her own joke, well someone had to since Jack was not here, thank you very much. She drummed her fingers on the arm rest and watched him. Sensing her stare, he looked over suddenly and gave her a distracted smile. She smiled back even as she rolled her eyes.

She had rolled her eyes in exasperation that day too. Honestly. Men and their gadgets.

"Laura! Where are you? Where's the remote?" he had yelled. She walked into the living room, to see him pulling cushions off of the couch.

"Jack, first of all, the remote is on top of the tv. Second of all, why in the world are you up? You just went to sleep half an hour ago!" Stalking in, she grabbed the remote off of the tv and threw it at him. "You know, you can find a damn needle in a haystack in outer Mongolia without a map but you can't find the remote right in front of your face. Typical male," she said in disgust and went over and replaced the cushions. Sitting down, she looked at him in disgust, her heartbeat returning to normal slowly. She had been in his office, when he had padded downstairs barefoot and nearly silent. If she had not sensed him….That had been too close….If he had found her inside his briefcase….

"Well," he began, he said, laughing at her annoyance. It was always so very much fun to irritate her, well worth raising his voice. And too, yelling for her had gotten her right in this room with him, right where he wanted her. A doubleplay. "You are always saying women are better at finding lost items than men, so…." 1, 2, 3….

"Why? Are our fallopian tubes the original divining rod?"

"Well, if you want to talk about a rod seeking moisture, wetness, I'm sure I could oblige. I mean as man with a rod, I feel the need to defend my gender in the only way I know how and---" 
"Jack!" she said, rolling her eyes. Patting the seat next to her, she looked up. He smiled and sat down next to her, pulled her close. "No, seriously, what are you doing up?" she asked. He needed to sleep and she needed to go through his stuff.

"Why am I up? You need to ask?" he quipped, cupping her breast in one hand.

"Honestly! What is it with you today?" she asked, smiling at him, running her hand across his chest, bare above his jeans.

"I…don't know. I'm all jumpy and restless and--- I just want to touch you and…"

"Jack, how bad was this mission?" she asked quickly, knowing in an instant that he must have had to terminate someone or several someones at point blank range. He had no trouble, as far as she knew, doing what was necessary, it was only later…He'd probably outgrow it with time and experience. But for now, terminations at point blank were the only time he had nightmares, so…. "Did you have a nightmare? Is that why you're up?"

"You don't need to---" He hated the terminations, not because they were not necessary. They were, he never killed anyone just to terminate, but…it was the coldness he could feel creeping inside him, the coldness he had to guard against, guard against showing her, but he needed her to combat it. The conflict was…How much should he reveal? Would she shrink back if she knew….

"Tell me. I know you can't tell me details, but…."

"I…bad. It's one of those times, I feel…cold inside, cold." There he had admitted it….Dave had told him he should….

"Oh," she said softly. Leaning toward him, wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. "Do you want me to sit with you until you fall asleep? Or you can talk to me about it if you want. Or Dave? Do you want to talk to Dave?"

"Not yet. I…just…let it be for a while. But, I will take you up on that offer to sit with me. Talk to me. About anything."

"How about….Let's play one of our games with Pride and Prejudice?" she suggested, thinking that would relax him.

"How about the easiest one - the one where we see how many quotations we can remember? I'll start?" She nodded and slowly ran her hands through his hair. She had sat there leaning against him as he lay on his side, his body curled around her. His arm around her waist, as she stroked his head, his chest and shoulders, watching his mind work through his eyes. "Okay, just random quotations, right?" he said quickly. "I'll start with chapter 57." His smile both warmed her and warned her. She smiled in return, waiting for the shoe to drop. "'For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbors and laugh at them in our turn?'"

"Ha, ha, Jack. 'Random quotations,' indeed! Very funny. Did you and Mr. Greenlaw enjoy making sport of me?" She stopped petting him to poke his arm.

"Yeah. I like him. Wish my fath….Anyway, he wanted to know if I ever yell at you the way you yell at me." He said, sliding his hand around her waist, stroking the curve.

Looking down at him, seeing that his eyes had closed already, she smiled and stroked his cheek. "Well, why would you? I never give you cause to yell the way you do me."

"The way I do you? But when I do you, you're not yelling…I think it's more of a scream…Oh, wait, do you think that's what he meant when he was talking about you yelling?" he asked slyly. Relaxing still more, he turned onto his back. She curved her hands up against his neck and cupped his face, running her thumbs along the angle of his jaw. "You tend to get somewhat…boisterous at times," he said, opening his eyes only to wink at her.

"Oh shut up." She leaned down and nipped at his nose. "You know….I think we should have started with chapter twenty-seven. Perhaps in your exhaustion, you misspoke, for this quotation is surely more accurate of you. And Mr. Greenlaw. 'Stupid men are the only ones worth knowing, after all.'" He laughed aloud. She ran her hands back down his neck and caressed his chest in a circular motion as she continued, "If that's true, then you're really worth knowing."

"Lame. If only I'd known just how lame your jokes could be when we met…. but then again, chapter 6? 'It is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life.'"

"Oh really? That was Charlotte Lucas talking there, not your idol, Elizabeth Bennett."

"Ah, but you like Mr. Darcy too. But aren't you glad that we weren't like them, though?"

"What do you mean?"

"They wasted so much time. At least you didn't have to overcome pride and I didn't have to overcome prejudice." He combed his fingers through her hair.

"No," she laughed and tugged on a lock of his hair, curling slightly in the heat and humidity of the day. "We just had to overcome your foolish desire to prolong the agony until we made love for the first time, to play the game--"

"I thought you liked that game!" he exclaimed and she felt his heartbeat increase under her hand. She quickly began petting him soothingly again.

"You idiot. Of course I did. You were right to wait until we said the words, until we couldn't wait, until the ache became a burn." She bent down and gave him a fervent kiss, putting her heart and soul into it until he moaned against her lips. "You know that I'm just teasing you. You're being very sensitive today. Are you sure you don't---"

"I'll be fine. And I'm not sensitive."

"Uh-huh." She stared at him, as she often did, trying to meld the man in his profile with the man before her, wondering if he ever had trouble melding the two…Compartmentalization could be both a bane and a blessing….She should….Then she shook her head, he needed distraction right now, not introspection. "Back to the game. You remember how Charlotte married that fool….so it was probably wise not to know his defects, or she could have never taken the chance on that idiot….Hmm." He opened his eyes and raised his eyebrow, smiling, as they both remembered how she liked to call him 'idiot.' "What are you thinking? How I always call you idiot….You know that I don't mean---"

"Oh, I know. I just realized something….Idiot….That's your endearment for me, isn't it? I was dreaming earlier that you called me 'sweetie' and I was so surprised in my dream because you never use words like that. But I was wrong . Wait! Notice that -- notice how easily I said that? I… was….. wrong." She rolled her eyes at his taunt, then grew thoughtful as he continued, "Because you do use endearments, don't you? Some people might use cutiepie or darling or honey, but my wife? She uses the word 'idiot'. How…sweet. Aren't I lucky?" He sighed melodramatically and looked heavenward, batting his eyelashes.

"Oh, you….idiot, I do love you so," she laughed and kissed his mouth, glad to see that it was smiling again. Was he right? Had she tried to fool herself by substituting a derogatory term like 'idiot' for what she really wanted to say, 'sweetie'? Her hand playing with his hair stopped its movements for a moment. Then she shrugged internally as she traced his eyebrow with a finger. Oh well, too late to change now, she told herself, ignoring the little ping of relief she felt. "Wait. 'Cutiepie?' That is so not you. Where did you get that?" 
"Dave. That's what his latest girlfriend calls him in private. Oh sh*t. I'm not supposed to tell anyone that! Don't tell him!"

"Ah-ha! I've got him now and you. But back to the game….Let's see….What are your other defects, I wonder, besides your inability to keep a secret?"

"Ah, I have none. Remember? You say that all the time." He smiled sleepily, as her hands massaged his shoulders, but with his eyes closed he missed the avaricious glint in her eyes as she stared at his body for long moments. "Honey, it's your turn. Are you stuck?"

"Oh, no. Sorry. Just….lost in thought for a moment." Should she tell him how gorgeous she thought he was, how…perfect she found him? "You have no defects. So you say. Hmmm. 'If I were not afraid of judging harshly, I should be almost tempted to say, that there is a strong appearance of duplicity in all this.'"

"Good set up for yourself there. Pick another one, you really won that time. Your turn…" he said, softly, as his eyes grew droopy. She slowed the movements of her hands across his chest, hoping to soothe him into a true slumber this time.

"Chapter One. The opener. 'It is a truth universally acknowledged---"

They finished the quotation together, "That a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.'"

"Hmm," he said, his breathing slowed, "That's one time Austen is wrong. Any man with half a brain knows that you find your fortune when you find your wife."

Half asleep now, he smiled as he felt her kiss on his cheek, heard her say, "You are the sweetest man."

"No, I'm not," he mumbled. "You don't know me at all. That mission…"

"I know the real Jack," she said firmly. "You can't hide from me." She leaned over and kissed his lips, his cheek, his hair, ran her hands soothingly over his body until his breathing evened out and finally, finally, a long time later he was lost in sleep. She sat with him, just touching him for a long while, waiting to see if the bad dreams that had undoubtedly woken him before would return, half-heartedly listening for any telltale mumbling that would give her intel, but being more concerned about him. Then her hand stopped its movement, resting on his bare chest as she asked herself where her loyalties lay.

She stared at him for a moment, then got up and going into the kitchen, called Dave. She walked back into the living room, noting how restless his sleep was. Standing over him, she reached a hand out and stroked his hair until he smiled and fell into a more restful slumber. Shrugging, she decided to put off going through his briefcase until later. After all, he was too prone to sudden wakefulness after a mission like this one must have been. So right now, she needed to keep an eye on him and ….well, she might as well spray the roses. Those bugs were the bane of her existence.

After washing her hands, she opened the refrigerator, trying to decide what to make for dinner. Something with lots of protein and carbohydrates; after all, he had probably eaten like crap the last week. At least she had learned to cook a little and could feed him better than he had fed himself before they married. Like that would take much. She used to tease him that all he could cook was hot dogs. Oh and toast. Jack and his toast.

Softly walking back into the living room, she skirted the couch and sat on the coffee table opposite the couch with her camera in hand. Looking at his chest and arms, she mused that he had gained some weight in all the right places with regular meals, had filled out. She sighed, well then, cooking benefited her too, as she shot a picture of his chest. A doubleplay, Jack would call it. Lasagna it would be tonight.

Focusing the viewfinder on Jack, she sighed as she snapped some photos first of his sleeping face, then of his entire body stretched out, so long, on the couch. She snapped a shot of his torso alone. Then the side of his neck, as it turned away from her. Then the base of the neck and the collar bones. How she loved that spot, how she'd love to just…suck him right there. Later….Stepping back, she snapped another full-length shot and sighed. He was truly gorgeous. Had no clue, no vanity, thought she was being irrational, when she glared at some woman for staring at him.

He shifted onto his back and raised the knee closest to the back cushions. Then he put one arm up against the couch back and leaned his head against it. She squatted down and took some photos of his profile. He was going to be so ticked when he saw all these photographs. Hee. Her turn to irritate him for once. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound. She stood up and backed away slightly so she could photograph…Wait, this would be much better….She put down the camera and reaching for his waistband, unbuttoned the top button of his jeans. Then stepping back, she looked critically at her handiwork. Hmm, she thought, and reached her hands to his waistband again.

"What are you doing?" he mumbled.

"Just making you more…comfortable," she whispered, as she lowered the zipper just a little.

"Your hands in that area are not going to make me more comfortable, you know."

She laughed softly and leaned down and kissed his lips, whispered, "Love you, Jack." He sighed and fell back asleep. She sat down on the coffee table and just watched him. He had been gone for so long, a week….she had worried so much while he was gone…She lifted the camera and took several shots, including some of just his waist and hips. He was going to think she was insane. But any woman who saw them would understand instantly….Not that any other woman would ever see these images. Or the live version either. At least while she was around. She wouldn't think about later. For now….She raised a hand and wiped the light coating of moisture from her forehead. Was it hot in here or was it just her?

A long while later, she hissed in a silent breath and licked her lips. She raised the camera to her eye as he reached the other hand down toward his pants. Sliding the tips of his fingers inside the open waistband of his jeans, he sighed, "Laura…love…" and arched his back as hardness appeared in his jeans. Without conscious thought she took a series of pictures. Oh my god, she thought, if this isn't one of the sexiest things I've ever seen and he's asleep. He's amazing…or, she wondered, is it that my feelings for him are amazing? Or both? She shook her head, another endless circle between them. Sat there, thinking of all the connections, the circles between them, the camera still upraised. Pondering whether, how, if she should tell him how she…wanted him. All the time in all ways. What she wanted today was to….

"I'd like to cover you with kisses," she said and was shocked at how loud her voice was in the silence of the room.

Still looking through the viewfinder, she was startled again as his eyes opened and he smiled, a look of surprise, happiness, even joy on his face. Automatically she clicked the shutter. That was going to be a beautiful picture, one worthy of her assignment. Well, after she cropped out his body and left only his face for the class to see. She clicked again.

"You are here," he said blinking slowly. "I thought I dreamed you."

"No, I'm here," she said softly and put down the camera and sat next to him, stroking his warm chest with one hand.

"Well?" he asked, reaching his arms up around her neck and tugging her down. 
"Well, what?"

"Are you going to cover me with kisses?" he asked softly.

"You heard?" He nodded and looked up at her with anticipation. Grinned. "I surrender," she sighed. "All you have to do is smile like that and you have me. Whatever you want…." She lowered her head and began…right there, the indentation at the base of his neck. That spot….She sighed. He arched his head back for her and she sighed again with gratification. He was hers. She had him. Would always have him, she thought, as she kissed her way down his torso. Stroking his skin with her lips, her hands, her hair, not to arouse, just to soothe, just to convey…what was it she was doing, what was it she was trying to say, she wondered as she tunneled her hands through his hair and smiled into his drowsy eyes? "I love you, Jack…" she whispered, as she cuddled next to him. "I'll lie here with you until you go to sleep again, okay?"

A long while later she woke up with a start, feeling warm and…..How had she fallen asleep? She had so much to do. Carefully pulling her arm out from under Jack's neck, she glanced at her watch. Damn it! Dave would be here soon and she had not even begun the lasagna, to say nothing of examining Jack's briefcase. Gently extricating herself, she paused and looked down at her husband, finally sleeping soundly. She shook her head. He could distract her so easily from her work. He was dange…she stopped, looking at his body stretched out on the couch…he was…Hers. She leaned forward and kissing his lips while he slept, whispered, "You are mine, sweetie."

"I love you too, honey," he said under his breath, looking up at her through slitted eyes as she walked away. Then he fell back asleep once again.

As the sun shot late afternoon warmth through the kitchen, he walked to the doorway. Stopped, rubbed his chest with one hand. Then putting his hands up high on either side of the door jamb, he smiled at her, still a little sleepy. "Honey, why didn't you wake me up?"

"You woke up once a while ago, don't you remember?" she asked holding up the camera, staring at him bemused. Seeing the muscles in his arms flex as he held onto the door, looking at the expanse of his bare chest, she sighed. Thinking, he's mine, all mine. Then as her gaze wandered down to the unbuttoned, slightly unzipped jeans that hung low on his hips, she had to fight from growling, 'All of that is mine. My husband. Mine. Moya, moya, moya.' Instead, she snapped a picture. Or two. Or three.

Dave looked at her, amused, she could tell.

"Oh. Yeah…" Jack smiled. She snapped another picture. "C'mon, aren't you done with the assignment yet?" he said, twisting his body to the right to rub his face on the outside of his right hand. She took another picture. Again, she'd crop away his body and just concentrate on his face, his profile this time for the assignment. The full photo would go into her personal portfolio….She snapped again. He straightened and complained mulishly, "Oh, puh-leeze, you know I don't like that and I just woke up, I must look…" She laughed and snapped again. "Irritated male" would be the caption on this shot.

"You look wonderful to me," she said huskily.

He looked at her for a moment, his hands still on the doorframe. Then in what she would always think of a typical Jack gesture, he looked down for a moment and then back up again. "Honey, I'm home…." he said with a smile. She did not move, transfixed by the happiness on his face, and then quickly snapped another picture. "Well?" he asked with a soft smile and an air of anticipation.

"That's my cue," she murmured and absently handed the camera to Dave. Running toward him, she stopped in front of him, wrapped her arms around him and held on tight. He dropped his arms from the door jamb and circled her with his own.

She rested her head against his chest, the flesh so misleadingly hard and firm over his soft heart, listening to the thum, thum, thum of his heartbeat as he whispered, "It beats just for you, you know."

"Welcome home, heart," she whispered in return. Then looking up, he looked down and they kissed. Sometimes passionately, sometimes tenderly, always with love. A very deliberate ritual she had begun a few months ago every time he came home from a mission, evolving out of a natural pose he did so often.

This time, when they lifted their lips, Dave said softly, "Look at me." When they did, he quickly took a series of photos. They would become her favorite pictures of the two of them; she would replace the wedding photo on their bureau with one of these. She could barely remember the wedding, had always thought her face looked slightly frightened in the photos. But these - the photos showed two people in love, happy, relaxed. Perfect pictures of a perfect moment, among so many perfect moments. This one was not just in her memory book, though, this one had left a record. Where was that photo now? Was it still on their, his, bureau?

Dave had put down the camera and chuckling, gave Laura a wink. She winked back. The phone rang and Jack excused himself to take it in his office. Dave said softly, "I hate to intrude but…."

"What a liar. That's what you do. Intrude. But, I know what you want to ask…How do I feel? That stupid question."

"You spend too much time with Jack," Dave said with a roll of his eyes.

"Not possible. But…I feel…good, like….I'm completely inarticulate, but…God, do you know how much I love him?"

"Do you?"

"Oh, geez. That typical shrink reversal of a question. But yes, I do think I'm starting to understand that it is possible to fall in love even more and that love requires work and--"

"Laura, did you spray the roses?" Jack asked as he came back in the kitchen.

"Yes, I sprayed the roses! And this time, smartass, before you ask, I didn't use too much!" She retorted, hands on hips.

"What are you talking about?" Dave asked Laura.

"Last time, I…went overboard on the bug killer and used too strong of a concentration. I killed the bugs, but I also made the plants sick. That big floribunda he gave me almost died. We had to baby it so much to get it to come back to life. Jack used it as an example of irony - that in trying to save the roses I ended up nearly killing him, I mean, them. And now he won't let it go! I'll be hearing about that one mistake for the rest of my life!"

"Wait a minute, where's the calendar?" Jack asked, looking around exaggeratedly.

"It's on the refrigerator, where it always is. Why --- oooh!"

"Yeah, I need a red pen and the calendar. Did my ears deceive me, Dave, or did Laura Bristow just admit to making a mistake or what?"

"I do believe that is what I heard as well, Jack. Definitely a red letter day," Dave teased.

"Hmm, Dave," Laura said, stroking her chin. "Think that's funny….Cutiepie?"

"Jack Bristow! You are in deep sh*t, my friend, deep!"

Jack groaned and ducked as Dave threw a potholder at him. "Sorry! I was half asleep and she wormed it out of me. That's it…she tortured me for that critical piece of intel. And I. Just. Could. Not. Resist. She knows the best ways of torturing a man."

"I bet. That's what you're always telling us, anyway…" Dave said slyly, winking at Jack before looking over at Laura. "What was that one method that involved---"

"Jack Bristow…You didn't…You wouldn't…." Laura said, advancing on him. He grabbed her by the waist and swung her around as he did so often. Each time she fell for the distracting ploy and just hung on for dear life, happy to be in the whirl of their life together.

Jack put her down, but kept his arms around her, holding her back against his front. She clasped her hands over his, resting on her waist. He kissed the top of her head and asked, "Hey, Dave, why are you here, anyway?"

"Laura called and said you were home, so I thought I'd just come over and hang out."

"Great," Jack said, giving Laura a last hug, as he let go and walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out three sodas.

Dave took one and popped the tab, as Jack stood next to him. "So, what have you been doing, how's it going?" They both made a face at Laura as she picked up her camera and snapped a few shots of the two friends.

"Fine, now that I slept. You want to stay for dinner? It smells like Laura made lasagna - there's always enough for ten people…" Jack gulped down a swallow from his can.

"No, I don't want to intrude…"

"You're never an intrusion, Dave!" Laura protested, laughing, winking at him, as she lowered her camera.

"Yeah. If it weren't for you, Laura and I would have never met, after all. The least we can do is give you some lasagna," Jack laughed and gave his wife the third soda.

"Hmm. True. Lasagna in return for---"

"A lifetime of happiness," Jack replied, with a huge smile.

"In fact," Laura said, "Why don't we call a bunch of our friends and invite them over? Would you like that?"

"You're asking my opinion?" He lightly hit himself on the side of the head. "I must have gotten a head wound and not known it."

"Ha, ha, smartass. Like you don't tell me your opinion on any topic, whether or not I want to hear it. But it's been a few weeks since we entertained and you're right, I always make too much lasagna and then we get sick of it. Do you want our friends over or not? You always seem to like having the house full of people, don't you?"

"Sure," Jack agreed.

"I'll start making phone calls, while you go put on a shirt." She put the soda back into the refrigerator and reached up into a cabinet to pull down their address book.

"Put on a shirt?" Jack asked with an innocent look on his face and a wink at Dave while Laura's back was turned. "Why?" She whirled around, looking at him suspiciously. "It's awfully hot, don't you think…" he said, trailing a hand down his torso, wondering what she would do….

She stared for a second. Then shaking her head, she pointed a finger at his bare chest. "If you think, for one minute, for one second, that you are going to sit around with a bare chest while there are other women here, you can just think again. Let me tell you, Jonathan Donahue Bristow, that there is no way on this green earth that I would ever allow that---"

"Oh, come on! What's next - no going to the beach?" He said guilelessly, just egging her on, as Dave elbowed him in the side. Glancing over, he almost laughed aloud as Dave covered his mouth with his hand and pretended to look out the window.

"That can be arranged. The last time we were there---" She put her hands on her hips and raved on. Jack sighed, he needed to head this off at the pass, or they'd be here all day listening to one of those possessive rants she was wont to engage in when he returned from a mission.

"Boy, you're feisty today! I guess maybe I was gone for too long, your temper is a little quick to fire, if you know what I mean. Maybe Dave can go away for…what, five minutes? And then come back and you'll be all better…." Jack said suggestively. Dave bit his lip and looked away again, trying not to laugh, but only succeeding in sounding like a choking penguin.

Laura growled at them both, then threw the phone book at her husband. "Here, you make the calls. I"ll go get you a shirt." She slapped Dave's arm on her way out. "I heard that laughter. Cutiepie."

"Thanks, Jack."

"Sorry. I really was half asleep."

"Well, it's better than that idiot she always calls you. I guess."

"Ha." He smiled. "You know what? I figured out today that, for whatever reason, idiot is her little pet name. Your girlfriend calls you Cutiepie and I get idiot."

"You just figured it out? C'mon…"

"Nah. You're right. I've always known it or I wouldn't have put up with it. But why she can't be like anyone else--- Oh what the hell am I saying? This is Laura. Of course she can't be like anyone else."

"And you wouldn't want her to."

"Nope."

"But what is wrong with darling or sweetie--" Jack's brow creased, what…Oh, his dream, he looked up again as Dave continued his litany of possible endearments, "…Or love of my life or---?"

"Well, it's better than Jackie."

"No kiddin'. Hey -- dollars to donuts, it's going to be a long-sleeve shirt…Jackie."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Yup, it's gonna be long sleeves," he agreed, opening the address book. "It's been a great day." He grinned at his friend. "She's been irritated for most of it, well, some of it, which is always fun and then…" He looked out the window, smiling.

"Then what?" Dave asked softly.

"I don't know. I'm just…happy."

"Happier than you were before?"

"I…don't know how to explain it. It's like she's….I don't know, the only word that comes to mind is deeper and well, maybe clearer? Like she knows what she wants or she's at least trying to figure it out….? Does that make sense?" Dave nodded. Jack continued, "Well, she's definitely a little more aggressive." He sighed, smiling, "…maybe one day soon, she'll…"

"Ah," Dave said, smiling.

"Yes, ah. I live in hope."

"I'm thinking you're living with hope in your pants, from what I see--- Shh, here she comes, if you know what I mean?"

"What were you two talking about, laughing with those goofy smiles on your face?" Laura asked as she came in and thrust a shirt in Jack's direction. He held it up in Dave's direction. They both burst into laughter once again.

"Long sleeves!" Dave chortled. "You owe me on that one!"

"Ha! I never made a bet on that!"

"Hey! What's so funny? What were you talking about?" she demanded, tucking her hair behind one ear, then putting her hands on her hips. She rolled her eyes, "I know. Sex. Men and sex. What the human race could have accomplished if men did not think about sex every other minute. It's pathetic, really."

"Wow, Jackie, not doing your job right if she thinks sex is pathetic."

"Shut up, jerk. But tell me about it. Like I said before, can you leave for about five minutes so I can change her mood?"

"Five minutes? That's it? No wonder she thinks sex is pathetic," Dave shook his head in mock dismay.

"True, Dave," Laura agreed with a mischievous look on her face as she continued. "'The power of doing anything with quickness is always much prized by the possessor, and often without any attention to the imperfection of the performance.' Emphasis mine, but words are from Mr. Darcy in ---"

"Oh brother, not Pride and Prejudice again!" Dave moaned. "When will you two ever move on to another book?"

"Never. See how much you can learn from it, right, Jack? I bet Mr. Darcy didn't take just five minutes with Elizabeth Bennett."

"I know. I'm a disgrace to my gender, past and present," Jack said, putting his hand to his forehead.

"Yeah, you need to hold up your…flag for the men a little…longer, Jack," Dave said laughing. "It's a disgrace, I tell you."

Laura rolled her eyes. "I swear, you're both a disgrace in general."

"Don't speak for me, Laura. As the older man, still in the field, as it were, Jack, let me give you some advice. Now, young man---" Dave began, putting his hand on Jack's shoulder.

Jack clasped his hands together and begged, "Oh please! Tell me what I need to know! Like…how to make it last six minutes, instead of five? How to make her scream six times, instead of a mere five. I need all the help I can get!"

Laura snapped a picture before she said smugly, "'Nothing is more deceitful than the appearance of humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an indirect boast.' Mr. Darcy again. How I love that man," she sighed. 
Jack sighed and gave her a cow-eyed look. "Isn't she amazing? How she loves me. After all, 'Could there be finer symptoms? Is not general incivility the very essence of love?'"

"Well, then you two have got love down to an essential science. You're both brats, if you ask my opinion."

"As I recall, I didn't," Jack and Laura said simultaneously, laughing.

"Oh, get calling, Jack," Laura said as she picked up her purse. "And get dressed--"

"Make me," Jack said, holding out the shirt. "I'm perfectly comfortable the way I am."

"Let's put it this way…Jackie." She said slyly, while he groaned and began shoving his arms into the sleeves. "You either get dressed or later on---"

"You don't need to complete the threat, I get it. I'll be getting undressed all by myself. See, Dave," he said, looking up as he buttoned his shirt, "See, how she uses sex as a weapon. Sick, wouldn't you say, in your professional opinion?"

"You're both twisted, these games you play," Dave said, shaking his head. "But that's why you're perfect for each other." He smiled as Laura wound her arms around Jack's neck and gave him a smacking kiss before going out the door.

"I'm going to run to the store for some bread and wine. You two can talk about things I shouldn't hear and catch up while I'm out." She gave a pointed look in Dave's direction as Jack opened the address book.

"Jack, what happened on the mission?" she heard as she left the house and sighed in relief. Dave would get it out of him and then he would feel better. She wished, she thought, as she drove to the market and entered the phone booth to call her case officer with her initial report, that Jack could harden himself a little quicker to the necessities of the game. He would fare much better if he just did what was necessary and then forgot about it. Regrets were… unhelpful.

As their group of friends sat down at the table later that evening, Jack asked, "So, what did everyone do while I was away? What excitement was there besides beetles attempting to infiltrate our garden?"

"Oh, you missed it, lucky you!" Dave rolled his eyes. "The women conned us into going to a revival of the world's sappiest movie ever. Tears from them, groans from the guys. You would have hated it."

"What was it?" Jack asked, passing the garlic bread.

"Love Story," Dave said with utter disgust.

"Oh brother," Jack said with equal revulsion. "Life is too short to waste it on that drivel."

"Hey!" Emily protested. "It's a classic."

"Classic piece of sentimental claptrap," Dave mumbled. His girlfriend elbowed him.

Jack turned to Laura, "Did you go?"

"Sure, why not?"

"What did you think?"

"Well, the story was a little melodramatic…" Laura shrugged, but with a twinkle in her eye and a wink at the group in general.

"A little?" Jack scoffed. " Define 'little.' Is the Hoover Dam a little pile of sticks? Is the Grand Canyon just a little crack in the ground? Is the---" Laura snapped a photograph, he stuck his tongue out at her.

"Jack, enough with the analogies," Arvin mumbled. "We don't have all night for you to carry on like usual."

"Wait a minute…" an old friend said. "You know, Jack wasn't always the motormouth he is today, Arvin. He used to be a lot more quiet. As in…someone could get in a word edgewise on occasion."

"True, true," Jack said shaking his head. "But then I spent so much time with Dave and if you want to get in a word edgewise, you need to learn to speak up."

"Or maybe…" Dave said slowly, with a wink, "You just grew up. Or decided, in your arrogance, to grace us with those pearls of um, wisdom that you think in your little head---"

"What man has any pearls of wisdom in his little head, I ask you?" Dave's girlfriend laughingly asked. Everyone joined in.

Dave said, "I feel that it would be in our best interests, men, to get this conversation back on track. Jack, what was it you were prepared to carry on about before when Arvin derailed the conversation?"

"Me!" Arvin protested. "It was Jack. It's always Jack's fault. He's the instigator around here, always…." He stopped when he realized everyone was staring at him.

"Um, yeah, Arvin, I'm the one derailing the conversation. Uh-huh. Do ya think I'm blind? Back to Love Story. The stupidest book I ever read. That story was more than melodramatic, it was blatantly, ridiculously manipulative. And for what? Some sappy, sad ending? Blech. And then, there's the tag line--"

"I know, I know!" Laura laughed, "You said it when you threw the book across our bedroom and it went smack into the wall, breaking the binding. 'What the hell does that mean - 'love means never having to say you're sorry'!"

"Ack! That was so idiotic. I mean---"

"Yeah," Dave chimed in with a sideways glance at Laura that made everyone else chuckle and then swallow it, while looking at the ceiling, "Yeah, aren't apologies most important to make to the people you love, rather than total strangers or mere acquaintances?"

"Was that a crack, Dave, at me?" Laura asked, surprising everyone, by smiling.

"If the crack fits…" Dave shrugged with a look at Jack, grinning at his friend.

"I'm not going there!" Jack protested, also grinning. Then opening his mouth again, he began, "Well, let me amend that---"

"Jack!" Laura squealed. "Don't say…whatever it is you were going to say! Be quiet."

"Make me," he taunted with a grin.

Getting up from her seat, she came over and plopped herself down on his lap. Winding her arms around his neck, she said, "I know how to shut you up." She pressed her lips to his while everyone groaned.

"Well, that's one thing we didn't miss, while you were away. The two of you making out at the movies," one guy opined. "You're an old married couple now, isn't the time for that over?" 
"I think it's cute!" one woman said, while the other women nodded.

TBC at Chapter 12 part 3 section 5 of 5