Five Times Jack Carter Was Inappropriately Turned On (And One Time He Acted on It)
Five Times Jack Carter Was Inappropriately Turned On (And One Time He Acted on It)
Author: enigmaticblues
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Pre-series, and through 2.10, “God Is In the Details”, assuming the final scene between Nathan and Allison didn't happen.
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, which is really too bad.
Summary: Five times Jack Carter was inappropriately turned on, and the one time he acted on it.
A/N: Brought about because of a conversation between myself and
szandara, who challenged me to write this, while I challenged her to write the corresponding series with Stark. Of course, she got done with hers first, which you should totally read.
1.
Jack shook his head, holding up a hand to refuse the plastic cup full of Jungle Juice. “No thanks, Nick.”
“You sure, man?” Nick held out the cup again. “You need to cut loose a little, relax.”
Jack shrugged. “I’m good.” He forced the grin that used to come so easily and ambled away, trying to relax his shoulders, concentrating on the warm sand between his toes.
Six months-six months since Angela’s death, and Jack could still see blood and twisted metal every time he closed his eyes, hear breaking glass and screeching tires. This was the first time he’d been out since the accident-the first time he’d hung out with friends. His mom had encouraged him to get out and have fun, thinking that he’d been spending far too much time alone.
Jack had tried to smile, tried to forget like everyone seemed to want, but the guilt followed him wherever he went.
“Hey.” The girl who stopped him by putting a hand on his bicep offered an uncertain smile. “Do I know you?”
She didn’t look familiar, so Jack shook his head. “No, sorry.” Remembering his manners, he added, “Jack Carter.”
“Rhoda Wilds.” She grinned, flipping dark hair over her bare shoulder, her white tube top showing tanned shoulders and a flat, tanned midriff. “Nice to meet you, Jack.”
“Yeah, same here.”
“You want to go sit somewhere?” A jerk of her head indicated the crowd populating the beach; a few of Jack’s friends were beginning to build a bonfire, a few others were throwing a football, jostling each other over possession while a group of girls watched.
The idea of getting away from the crowd was too tempting to resist, and Jack nodded. “Sure. Where do you want to go?”
She led him to a quiet area of the beach about a hundred yards away. From this distance, the noise died down to a quiet buzz, and Jack settled on the sand next to Rhoda. Conversation came easily; she talked about her plans to go to UCLA the next year, while Jack listened.
“What about you? What deep mysteries make up Jack Carter?” Rhoda leaned in close, bumping Jack’s shoulder with her own, and Jack caught the scent of cocoa butter mixed with sun and sweat.
The scent reminded him abruptly of Angela, of one memorable night on the beach, his body covering hers, and Jack felt himself hardening in his swim trunks.
He pulled his knees to his chest to hide the evidence, wrapping his arms around his shins. “There isn’t much to me,” Jack replied, ignoring both his arousal and the wave of guilt that followed his attraction to Rhoda. “I’m just a regular guy, out with his friends.”
And if Jack said it often enough, he might actually believe it.
2.
The cards were not working in his favor tonight. Jack threw down his hand and shook his head. “I fold.”
“Wuss,” his partner, André, responded. “You are such a pussy, Carter.”
“I’ve got a wife and kid,” Carter shot back. “I can’t afford to lose my shirt in a poker game.”
André grinned. “That just goes to show that you’re a pussy.”
“Fuck off.”
“I’ve got a girlfriend for that,” André replied.
Jack didn’t respond, knowing that reply he made would only result in an even crasser comment from his partner on marriage and the likelihood of Jack getting any. Unfortunately, Jack couldn’t respond; as bad as things had been between him and Abby lately, sex with his wife was the last thing on the menu.
André smirked as though he already knew, and Jack figured he probably did. They were partners, after all. “Things still tense at home?”
Jack rubbed his eyes. “I travel; Abby doesn’t like it, Zoe doesn’t like it, and my name is mud.”
“I’m sorry, man.” For all his earlier teasing, there was real sympathy in André’s voice, which is why he was Jack’s friend, and not just his partner.
Jack shrugged. “We’ll work it out.”
He didn’t believe that; in truth, Jack had known that things were probably heading towards a split for months, but he didn’t want to risk making his fears come true.
“Hey, guys.”
Jack exchanged a look with André as their witness entered the room. She might appear to be in her 20’s, but she was actually 18, and intent on proving just how grown up she was to the U.S. Marshal Service-much to André’s amusement and Jack’s discomfort.
“Hello, Corey.” Jack tried to remain as formal as possible with her; she had seen her friend killed by drug dealers, after all.
“What are you doing, Marshal Carter?” Corey sidled up next to him, swinging her hips. Jack really wished that she’d wear something other than short shorts and tiny tank tops, but it seemed to be the only kind of clothing she owned.
“We’re playing poker.” Jack silently pleaded with his partner for rescue.
André grinned. “You know, I think I’m going to get a soda.”
Jack’s glare didn’t do any good; André still rose and headed out of the hotel room, and Corey immediately took his seat. “We could play strip poker.”
“Uh, you know, I don’t think that’s a great idea.” Jack scratched the back of his head. “It’s getting late. Maybe you should be in bed?”
“I’m not a kid, Jack.” Corey leaned across the table, giving Jack a very good view of her cleavage.
Jack rose from the table with alacrity. “No, definitely not a kid.”
There was nowhere to go; Jack couldn’t very well leave her alone in the hotel suite, and he silently cursed his partner for leaving him high and dry.
He was definitely going to get even; it was just a matter of deciding how.
Corey didn’t appear dissuaded by the way he backed off. “And your partner is gone.”
“For a soda,” Jack pointed out, determined to stand his ground and put an end to this. “He’ll be back soon.”
“I think he just wanted to give us some alone time.” Corey’s attempt at a sultry purr was too successful for Jack’s peace of mind, and when she reached out to trail a hand up his chest, he very firmly pushed her away.
“Yeah, sorry,” Jack said. “I’m married, and it’s against the rules.”
Corey smirked. “Rules are made to be broken.”
She moved closer, and Jack could smell her floral shampoo. In spite of himself, in spite of his best intentions, Jack could feel himself responding, and he felt a corresponding rush of anger.
Deliberately, Jack leaned in close, looking her in the eye with the glare he reserved for Zoe at her brattiest. “No. There are some rules meant to be followed. You’re young enough to be my daughter, and I’m not going there.”
André entered the room just in time to catch the slamming of Corey’s door. “What was that about?”
Jack shrugged, pretending ignorance, even as he took a deep breath. He knew that Corey hadn’t noticed his physical reaction; she would have taken advantage of it. André probably wouldn’t say anything, but Jack didn’t want to advertise the fact that he had become aroused by the amateur seduction of a girl.
It really had been too long since he’d had sex. Too bad that didn’t look like it was going to change any time soon.
3.
Jack was used to weird; weird was a Eurekan specialty. But this-this was different.
Allison had quit her job after having a knock-down, drag-out fight with Stark right in front of him. Jack had been equal parts uncomfortable and hopeful, because if Allison was fighting with Stark, she might actually be more interested in him. But if that hadn’t been strange enough, Jack had been faced with Jo, who was acting a heck of a lot more like Zoe on a sugar rush.
Now he had an entire town gone crazy, and Jack had no idea where to go next. Normally, he’d talk to Henry, but the other man was a mean drunk. When Jack had tried to talk to Allison, she’d taken off her dress.
And Jack’s mind went momentarily blank, remembering Allison’s caramel colored skin glowing against her pink lingerie.
If only she hadn’t been out of her mind on whatever it was going around, Jack would have taken her up on her offer. Jack figured his restraint had reached heroic levels; he didn’t know of another man who would have been able to resist.
At least in theory.
Jack figured he could handle just about anything that the town threw at him, maybe not gracefully, but he could handle it. What he hadn’t counted on was Beverly spilling her secrets over Henry’s PA, starting with Allison Blake.
Looking back, Jack knew that, in theory, most men would kill to see a couple of attractive women going at it, but he never had counted himself as one of them. At least, he hadn’t figured he’d be one of them until he watched Allison lay Beverly out with one good punch, and Beverly come back with a skill that Jack hadn’t expected.
Maybe Jack should have been suspicious of Beverly after that, he thought later; Allison had an excuse for her training, since she worked for the DOD.
He hovered behind them, trying to find the right opening to break up the fight, while also trying desperately to ignore his hard-on. And though he might hate himself for it, Jack’s arousal was only heightened when he cuffed Allison to the door and tied Beverly to the furniture.
They were still spitting at each other like a couple of wet cats when Jack left, and he took a moment to pause outside the door of Beverly’s bed and breakfast. He tried to get himself under control, but he was still walking funny by the time he made it into his vehicle. In spite of his best efforts, Jack kept remembering Allison in her pink lingerie, and Beverly going after Allison with all the vitriol she could muster.
“Fuck,” Jack muttered, letting his forehead fall against the steering wheel. He didn’t often swear-he thought it was unprofessional, and he had a daughter to provide an example for-but right now, Jack wasn’t sure there was another word that fit.
He shifted uncomfortably in the driver’s seat, trying to adjust himself and not having much luck. Jack attempted to think of the least sexy things he could-Taggart naked, General Mansfield naked, Nathan Stark-
No, that didn’t help at all.
Jack refocused on the paperwork that was sure to be generated by this most recent fiasco, and his arousal immediately subsided. He laughed at himself; paperwork was sure to be a boner-killer for just about anyone.
He shook his head and pulled out from the bed and breakfast. Jack had a mystery to solve.
4.
Jack had believed that Nathan Stark leaving Eureka would be the best thing that could happen to him. With Stark out of the way, Jack thought that his chances with Allison would improve exponentially.
That is, Jack thought Stark leaving was a good thing until actually faced with the possibility. As much as he hated dealing with the scientist at times, Jack had to admit that Stark was handy in a crisis.
And Jack enjoyed their verbal sparring matches.
“Why is it that Dr. Todd hit me with the sonic whatever, and didn’t go after you?” Jack muttered on his way to drop Stark off at Henry’s.
“Because I’m scarier than you,” Stark replied easily.
Jack snorted. “I’m the one with the gun.”
“Maybe, but I can kill people with my mind.” Nathan’s smirk grew. “Much more frightening.”
Jack blinked, contemplating the possibility. “Are you serious?”
Stark laughed. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Sheriff?”
Jack shot him a look. “You know, with that admission, I should book your for possession of a deadly weapon.”
“You just want an excuse to use your handcuffs,” Nathan remarked as Jack pulled up in front of Henry’s shop.
Jack just managed not to allow the mental picture to form, but only just. “Give me a call when you’ve got something.”
“Of course.”
That exchange ran through his head later as Jack listened to Stark enthusiastically describing Henry’s crowd-control gun. The unrestrained excitement made Stark seem younger, and somehow more approachable, as did Stark’s ill-concealed pleasure at firing Henry’s new toy.
But the sight of Stark with the goo gun, safety glasses in place, the butt braced against his shoulder made Jack stiffen with unexpected arousal. Jack couldn’t help but notice the way Stark’s muscles flexed under the thin fabric of his dress shirt-his biceps, back, and shoulders-and Jack’s memory filled in the blanks from the other day.
Jack hadn’t needed the confirmation, but it turned out that Stark looked just as good under his suit as Jack had always suspected.
And now, with that memory, and Stark handling the goo gun with an easy competence, mixed with sheer delight-
Jack shifted and wrenched his attention back to Fargo and the personal force field. He could let his imagination run wild later, after they saved Fargo, and he was at home in the privacy of his bedroom.
5.
There was no faster way to Jack’s heart than through his daughter; he knew that, and when necessary, Jack knew he could guard against it. Not that he’d had anyone making nice with Zoe to get a date with him recently, but Jack was aware of the possibility, however remote.
The problem, of course, when he saw Stark perched on the side of Zoe’s bed, talking in a low voice, saying something that made her smile-well, Jack didn’t have any way to guard against it. Stark wasn’t trying to get on his good side; he was just taking care of Zoe.
He watched as Zoe scribbled on the tablet, and the computerized voice spoke. “Are you sure I’ll be okay?”
“I’m sure,” Nathan replied with complete assurance.
Jack sidled a little closer, remaining hidden, but wanting to hear what they were talking about.
“You doubt me?” Nathan asked after a pause, a wry grin on his face.
“Dad did say you were pretty good at your job.”
Jack winced. He tried to avoid complimenting Stark when the other man could hear it; Stark’s ego was big enough already.
Stark chuckled. “He’d throw a fit if he heard you saying that.”
Jack winced, wondering how Stark knew him so well.
“It can be our secret.” Jack was beginning to hate that damn tablet, even if it did help Zoe communicate. He wanted to hear his daughter’s voice again, not a robot’s.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Stark replied, and Jack could hear the smile in his voice, even if he couldn’t see Stark’s face from this angle. “I might just remind him he said that the next time he argues with me.”
“Thanks for coming by,” Zoe said as Stark rose from the bed.
Nathan shrugged. “Don’t hesitate to call if you need me, okay?”
Jack watched as Nathan patted her shoulder reassuringly, and he had to duck out of the way quickly to avoid being seen. He had planned on checking on Zoe himself, but he was going to have to wait until his erection went away.
There had been something about Stark’s gentle way of reassuring Zoe, as well as how he’d avoided throwing jibes at Jack earlier when Jack had been so worried…
Jack cursed under his breath as he realized that this wasn’t just about physical attraction; that would have been easy to deal with. He actually liked Stark.
“Wow, Jack,” he muttered furiously to himself. “Developing two impossible crushes at the same time?”
Jack scrubbed at his face and took a deep breath, focusing on Zoe. He had work to do.
6.
Swearing quietly, Jack stared at the video feed in dismay. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“Afraid not, Carter,” Nathan replied, shrugging into the straps that held the fuel tank on his back. “You okay with this, or do I have to take care of Taggart’s creatures myself?”
“Why the hell would Taggart make something like that?” Jack demanded, hating the rising hysteria in his voice. The very large-things-were skittering across the floor of the lab, and to Jack’s horror, the door slid open for them. “Stark!”
“I see it.” Stark held up the second fuel tank. “Well?”
Letting out a disgusted breath, Jack turned so that Stark could help him situate the tank on his back. “Why are we the ones dealing with this, again?”
“Because Jo is dealing with another call, and neither of us trust anyone else not to screw this up.” Stark gave Jack a once-over. “Have you used one of these before?”
“Remember the plant pollen?” When Stark nodded, he continued, “I burned Seth’s plants with one of these, so I think I’m good. Fair warning, I hate spiders.”
“They’re not spiders,” Stark replied automatically, leading the way to Taggart’s lab. “I’ve closed down this section and cleared it out. Those things shouldn’t be poisonous.”
“‘Shouldn’t’ be?” Jack jogged to catch up. “What do you mean?”
Stark grinned broadly. “To my knowledge, no one’s ever been bitten, so I don’t know for certain.”
Jack groaned. “I hate you.”
Stark just laughed. “Scared, Sheriff?”
“I really don’t like spiders,” Jack repeated. “And they look enough like spiders that it doesn’t matter that they’re not.”
“There’s still time to turn back,,” Stark replied.
Carter snorted. “And let you handle it by yourself? It’s my job, Stark, not yours.”
Stark took a sharp corner. “My job, too, Carter.”
“Allison’s the head of Global now,” Jack objected.
“And you want her here?”
“No.” Jack grimaced. “I just don’t get it.”
“Don’t get what?”
“You’re in the middle of everything,” Jack observed. “Including fixing Zoe a couple of weeks ago.”
“It wasn’t just Zoe who needed my help.” Stark glanced over his shoulder at Jack. “But she’s a good kid.”
“Yeah,” Jack agreed quietly. “So, you scared of anything?”
“Is this really the time?” Stark asked as they approached the hallway to Taggart’s lab.
“You already know my fear,” Jack replied, moving to flank Stark on the other side of the doorway.
Stark’s eyes were cool. “Losing people I care about. That’s what scares me.”
Jack was taken aback by Stark’s honesty, and he nodded to acknowledge that. “Let’s get this over with.”
They fired up the flamethrowers, roasting the first half dozen of the suckers immediately upon entering the lab. They were even freakier up close, Jack thought-a little bigger than a dinner plate, including rust-colored legs. The body was fat and hairy, with black eyes and pincers just below.
Jack tried to focus on killing them, instead of on the panic rising up to choke him.
And then one of them jumped at him.
He ducked, throwing up an arm to knock the creature aside, letting out a sound that he would later insist wasn’t a scream.
“Hold still, Carter!” Stark swung the nozzle on the flamethrower, and Jack closed his eyes, trying desperately not to move. He felt the nozzle brush his cheek, and Jack flinched, but remained still.
Stark was frying two more of the critters when Jack opened his eyes, and he immediately noticed one of the things sitting on the back of Stark’s fuel tank. With a grimace, Jack batted it off with his hand, not wanting the flame to get that close to the tank, and he stomped on it.
The spider-thing crunched and squished, and Jack gagged a little as green bug guts splattered everywhere.
“Thanks!”
“Yeah, anytime,” Jack muttered in response, focusing on the next wave.
The heat from the flamethrowers was attracting the creatures, which was the other reason fire was the weapon of choice. As Nathan had explained, they were resistant to pretty much every insecticide; as far as Jack knew, the things were that hardy on purpose-although what that purpose was, he had no idea.
It took several hours to track down and kill all of them, and by the time they had, Jack’s uniform shirt was soaked through with sweat, and he was covered in soot and bug guts.
With a weary sigh, Jack leaned over, bracing his hands on his knees. “Stark? We good?”
“That was the last of them,” Stark confirmed, unstrapping his tank and lowering it to the ground. “Oh, God, I need a shower.”
That should not have been a turn on, Jack thought, watching as Stark slid down the wall to sit on the floor, slumping wearily. They were both sweaty, with soot-streaked faces, and Jack thought he saw green goo in Stark’s hair.
And yet, somehow, Jack was still aroused. It might have been exhaustion, but Jack found himself getting free of his own tank, carefully setting it on the floor, and sliding down to sprawl next to the scientist.
“You okay, Sheriff?” Stark asked as their shoulders bumped, and the real concern in his voice had Jack reaching over and pulling down his head for a hard, sloppy kiss. He was too tired for more finesse, but Stark didn’t seem to mind as his lips parted, giving Jack’s tongue access.
Their teeth clashed, and Jack tilted his head a bit for a better angle, Stark’s hand gripping his right bicep hard enough to bruise.
Jack finally pulled back, staring at Stark warily.
“What was that?” Stark asked, sounding breathless; it did wonders for Jack’s ego.
Jack smirked. “That was a kiss. I figured you’d know.”
“Carter-” Stark began, his tone a warning, before switching tactics. “Jack.”
He sighed. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”
Stark raised an eyebrow. “How long exactly?”
“Fargo’s personal force field,” he admitted, figuring that he might as well go for broke. Stark hadn’t called him an idiot yet, which Jack found encouraging. “I figured it was hopeless.”
A smile tilted the corners of Stark’s mouth. “I’ve been thinking about it on and off since Callister,” he offered. “And I told you I swung a lot of things, Sheriff.”
Jack grinned. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, but I really am going to have to insist on a shower before continue this conversation,” Stark said brusquely, rising to his feet. “And possibly a bed and a meal.” He looked down at Jack and held out a hand. “But I wouldn’t mind some company.”
Jack let Stark haul him to his feet. “Sounds like a plan,” he replied, striving for nonchalant. “I guess that’s why they call you a genius.”
Stark grinned broadly. “You have no idea, Carter.”
Maybe not, but Jack couldn’t wait to find out.
Author: enigmaticblues
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Pre-series, and through 2.10, “God Is In the Details”, assuming the final scene between Nathan and Allison didn't happen.
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, which is really too bad.
Summary: Five times Jack Carter was inappropriately turned on, and the one time he acted on it.
A/N: Brought about because of a conversation between myself and
szandara, who challenged me to write this, while I challenged her to write the corresponding series with Stark. Of course, she got done with hers first, which you should totally read.
1.
Jack shook his head, holding up a hand to refuse the plastic cup full of Jungle Juice. “No thanks, Nick.”
“You sure, man?” Nick held out the cup again. “You need to cut loose a little, relax.”
Jack shrugged. “I’m good.” He forced the grin that used to come so easily and ambled away, trying to relax his shoulders, concentrating on the warm sand between his toes.
Six months-six months since Angela’s death, and Jack could still see blood and twisted metal every time he closed his eyes, hear breaking glass and screeching tires. This was the first time he’d been out since the accident-the first time he’d hung out with friends. His mom had encouraged him to get out and have fun, thinking that he’d been spending far too much time alone.
Jack had tried to smile, tried to forget like everyone seemed to want, but the guilt followed him wherever he went.
“Hey.” The girl who stopped him by putting a hand on his bicep offered an uncertain smile. “Do I know you?”
She didn’t look familiar, so Jack shook his head. “No, sorry.” Remembering his manners, he added, “Jack Carter.”
“Rhoda Wilds.” She grinned, flipping dark hair over her bare shoulder, her white tube top showing tanned shoulders and a flat, tanned midriff. “Nice to meet you, Jack.”
“Yeah, same here.”
“You want to go sit somewhere?” A jerk of her head indicated the crowd populating the beach; a few of Jack’s friends were beginning to build a bonfire, a few others were throwing a football, jostling each other over possession while a group of girls watched.
The idea of getting away from the crowd was too tempting to resist, and Jack nodded. “Sure. Where do you want to go?”
She led him to a quiet area of the beach about a hundred yards away. From this distance, the noise died down to a quiet buzz, and Jack settled on the sand next to Rhoda. Conversation came easily; she talked about her plans to go to UCLA the next year, while Jack listened.
“What about you? What deep mysteries make up Jack Carter?” Rhoda leaned in close, bumping Jack’s shoulder with her own, and Jack caught the scent of cocoa butter mixed with sun and sweat.
The scent reminded him abruptly of Angela, of one memorable night on the beach, his body covering hers, and Jack felt himself hardening in his swim trunks.
He pulled his knees to his chest to hide the evidence, wrapping his arms around his shins. “There isn’t much to me,” Jack replied, ignoring both his arousal and the wave of guilt that followed his attraction to Rhoda. “I’m just a regular guy, out with his friends.”
And if Jack said it often enough, he might actually believe it.
2.
The cards were not working in his favor tonight. Jack threw down his hand and shook his head. “I fold.”
“Wuss,” his partner, André, responded. “You are such a pussy, Carter.”
“I’ve got a wife and kid,” Carter shot back. “I can’t afford to lose my shirt in a poker game.”
André grinned. “That just goes to show that you’re a pussy.”
“Fuck off.”
“I’ve got a girlfriend for that,” André replied.
Jack didn’t respond, knowing that reply he made would only result in an even crasser comment from his partner on marriage and the likelihood of Jack getting any. Unfortunately, Jack couldn’t respond; as bad as things had been between him and Abby lately, sex with his wife was the last thing on the menu.
André smirked as though he already knew, and Jack figured he probably did. They were partners, after all. “Things still tense at home?”
Jack rubbed his eyes. “I travel; Abby doesn’t like it, Zoe doesn’t like it, and my name is mud.”
“I’m sorry, man.” For all his earlier teasing, there was real sympathy in André’s voice, which is why he was Jack’s friend, and not just his partner.
Jack shrugged. “We’ll work it out.”
He didn’t believe that; in truth, Jack had known that things were probably heading towards a split for months, but he didn’t want to risk making his fears come true.
“Hey, guys.”
Jack exchanged a look with André as their witness entered the room. She might appear to be in her 20’s, but she was actually 18, and intent on proving just how grown up she was to the U.S. Marshal Service-much to André’s amusement and Jack’s discomfort.
“Hello, Corey.” Jack tried to remain as formal as possible with her; she had seen her friend killed by drug dealers, after all.
“What are you doing, Marshal Carter?” Corey sidled up next to him, swinging her hips. Jack really wished that she’d wear something other than short shorts and tiny tank tops, but it seemed to be the only kind of clothing she owned.
“We’re playing poker.” Jack silently pleaded with his partner for rescue.
André grinned. “You know, I think I’m going to get a soda.”
Jack’s glare didn’t do any good; André still rose and headed out of the hotel room, and Corey immediately took his seat. “We could play strip poker.”
“Uh, you know, I don’t think that’s a great idea.” Jack scratched the back of his head. “It’s getting late. Maybe you should be in bed?”
“I’m not a kid, Jack.” Corey leaned across the table, giving Jack a very good view of her cleavage.
Jack rose from the table with alacrity. “No, definitely not a kid.”
There was nowhere to go; Jack couldn’t very well leave her alone in the hotel suite, and he silently cursed his partner for leaving him high and dry.
He was definitely going to get even; it was just a matter of deciding how.
Corey didn’t appear dissuaded by the way he backed off. “And your partner is gone.”
“For a soda,” Jack pointed out, determined to stand his ground and put an end to this. “He’ll be back soon.”
“I think he just wanted to give us some alone time.” Corey’s attempt at a sultry purr was too successful for Jack’s peace of mind, and when she reached out to trail a hand up his chest, he very firmly pushed her away.
“Yeah, sorry,” Jack said. “I’m married, and it’s against the rules.”
Corey smirked. “Rules are made to be broken.”
She moved closer, and Jack could smell her floral shampoo. In spite of himself, in spite of his best intentions, Jack could feel himself responding, and he felt a corresponding rush of anger.
Deliberately, Jack leaned in close, looking her in the eye with the glare he reserved for Zoe at her brattiest. “No. There are some rules meant to be followed. You’re young enough to be my daughter, and I’m not going there.”
André entered the room just in time to catch the slamming of Corey’s door. “What was that about?”
Jack shrugged, pretending ignorance, even as he took a deep breath. He knew that Corey hadn’t noticed his physical reaction; she would have taken advantage of it. André probably wouldn’t say anything, but Jack didn’t want to advertise the fact that he had become aroused by the amateur seduction of a girl.
It really had been too long since he’d had sex. Too bad that didn’t look like it was going to change any time soon.
3.
Jack was used to weird; weird was a Eurekan specialty. But this-this was different.
Allison had quit her job after having a knock-down, drag-out fight with Stark right in front of him. Jack had been equal parts uncomfortable and hopeful, because if Allison was fighting with Stark, she might actually be more interested in him. But if that hadn’t been strange enough, Jack had been faced with Jo, who was acting a heck of a lot more like Zoe on a sugar rush.
Now he had an entire town gone crazy, and Jack had no idea where to go next. Normally, he’d talk to Henry, but the other man was a mean drunk. When Jack had tried to talk to Allison, she’d taken off her dress.
And Jack’s mind went momentarily blank, remembering Allison’s caramel colored skin glowing against her pink lingerie.
If only she hadn’t been out of her mind on whatever it was going around, Jack would have taken her up on her offer. Jack figured his restraint had reached heroic levels; he didn’t know of another man who would have been able to resist.
At least in theory.
Jack figured he could handle just about anything that the town threw at him, maybe not gracefully, but he could handle it. What he hadn’t counted on was Beverly spilling her secrets over Henry’s PA, starting with Allison Blake.
Looking back, Jack knew that, in theory, most men would kill to see a couple of attractive women going at it, but he never had counted himself as one of them. At least, he hadn’t figured he’d be one of them until he watched Allison lay Beverly out with one good punch, and Beverly come back with a skill that Jack hadn’t expected.
Maybe Jack should have been suspicious of Beverly after that, he thought later; Allison had an excuse for her training, since she worked for the DOD.
He hovered behind them, trying to find the right opening to break up the fight, while also trying desperately to ignore his hard-on. And though he might hate himself for it, Jack’s arousal was only heightened when he cuffed Allison to the door and tied Beverly to the furniture.
They were still spitting at each other like a couple of wet cats when Jack left, and he took a moment to pause outside the door of Beverly’s bed and breakfast. He tried to get himself under control, but he was still walking funny by the time he made it into his vehicle. In spite of his best efforts, Jack kept remembering Allison in her pink lingerie, and Beverly going after Allison with all the vitriol she could muster.
“Fuck,” Jack muttered, letting his forehead fall against the steering wheel. He didn’t often swear-he thought it was unprofessional, and he had a daughter to provide an example for-but right now, Jack wasn’t sure there was another word that fit.
He shifted uncomfortably in the driver’s seat, trying to adjust himself and not having much luck. Jack attempted to think of the least sexy things he could-Taggart naked, General Mansfield naked, Nathan Stark-
No, that didn’t help at all.
Jack refocused on the paperwork that was sure to be generated by this most recent fiasco, and his arousal immediately subsided. He laughed at himself; paperwork was sure to be a boner-killer for just about anyone.
He shook his head and pulled out from the bed and breakfast. Jack had a mystery to solve.
4.
Jack had believed that Nathan Stark leaving Eureka would be the best thing that could happen to him. With Stark out of the way, Jack thought that his chances with Allison would improve exponentially.
That is, Jack thought Stark leaving was a good thing until actually faced with the possibility. As much as he hated dealing with the scientist at times, Jack had to admit that Stark was handy in a crisis.
And Jack enjoyed their verbal sparring matches.
“Why is it that Dr. Todd hit me with the sonic whatever, and didn’t go after you?” Jack muttered on his way to drop Stark off at Henry’s.
“Because I’m scarier than you,” Stark replied easily.
Jack snorted. “I’m the one with the gun.”
“Maybe, but I can kill people with my mind.” Nathan’s smirk grew. “Much more frightening.”
Jack blinked, contemplating the possibility. “Are you serious?”
Stark laughed. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Sheriff?”
Jack shot him a look. “You know, with that admission, I should book your for possession of a deadly weapon.”
“You just want an excuse to use your handcuffs,” Nathan remarked as Jack pulled up in front of Henry’s shop.
Jack just managed not to allow the mental picture to form, but only just. “Give me a call when you’ve got something.”
“Of course.”
That exchange ran through his head later as Jack listened to Stark enthusiastically describing Henry’s crowd-control gun. The unrestrained excitement made Stark seem younger, and somehow more approachable, as did Stark’s ill-concealed pleasure at firing Henry’s new toy.
But the sight of Stark with the goo gun, safety glasses in place, the butt braced against his shoulder made Jack stiffen with unexpected arousal. Jack couldn’t help but notice the way Stark’s muscles flexed under the thin fabric of his dress shirt-his biceps, back, and shoulders-and Jack’s memory filled in the blanks from the other day.
Jack hadn’t needed the confirmation, but it turned out that Stark looked just as good under his suit as Jack had always suspected.
And now, with that memory, and Stark handling the goo gun with an easy competence, mixed with sheer delight-
Jack shifted and wrenched his attention back to Fargo and the personal force field. He could let his imagination run wild later, after they saved Fargo, and he was at home in the privacy of his bedroom.
5.
There was no faster way to Jack’s heart than through his daughter; he knew that, and when necessary, Jack knew he could guard against it. Not that he’d had anyone making nice with Zoe to get a date with him recently, but Jack was aware of the possibility, however remote.
The problem, of course, when he saw Stark perched on the side of Zoe’s bed, talking in a low voice, saying something that made her smile-well, Jack didn’t have any way to guard against it. Stark wasn’t trying to get on his good side; he was just taking care of Zoe.
He watched as Zoe scribbled on the tablet, and the computerized voice spoke. “Are you sure I’ll be okay?”
“I’m sure,” Nathan replied with complete assurance.
Jack sidled a little closer, remaining hidden, but wanting to hear what they were talking about.
“You doubt me?” Nathan asked after a pause, a wry grin on his face.
“Dad did say you were pretty good at your job.”
Jack winced. He tried to avoid complimenting Stark when the other man could hear it; Stark’s ego was big enough already.
Stark chuckled. “He’d throw a fit if he heard you saying that.”
Jack winced, wondering how Stark knew him so well.
“It can be our secret.” Jack was beginning to hate that damn tablet, even if it did help Zoe communicate. He wanted to hear his daughter’s voice again, not a robot’s.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Stark replied, and Jack could hear the smile in his voice, even if he couldn’t see Stark’s face from this angle. “I might just remind him he said that the next time he argues with me.”
“Thanks for coming by,” Zoe said as Stark rose from the bed.
Nathan shrugged. “Don’t hesitate to call if you need me, okay?”
Jack watched as Nathan patted her shoulder reassuringly, and he had to duck out of the way quickly to avoid being seen. He had planned on checking on Zoe himself, but he was going to have to wait until his erection went away.
There had been something about Stark’s gentle way of reassuring Zoe, as well as how he’d avoided throwing jibes at Jack earlier when Jack had been so worried…
Jack cursed under his breath as he realized that this wasn’t just about physical attraction; that would have been easy to deal with. He actually liked Stark.
“Wow, Jack,” he muttered furiously to himself. “Developing two impossible crushes at the same time?”
Jack scrubbed at his face and took a deep breath, focusing on Zoe. He had work to do.
6.
Swearing quietly, Jack stared at the video feed in dismay. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“Afraid not, Carter,” Nathan replied, shrugging into the straps that held the fuel tank on his back. “You okay with this, or do I have to take care of Taggart’s creatures myself?”
“Why the hell would Taggart make something like that?” Jack demanded, hating the rising hysteria in his voice. The very large-things-were skittering across the floor of the lab, and to Jack’s horror, the door slid open for them. “Stark!”
“I see it.” Stark held up the second fuel tank. “Well?”
Letting out a disgusted breath, Jack turned so that Stark could help him situate the tank on his back. “Why are we the ones dealing with this, again?”
“Because Jo is dealing with another call, and neither of us trust anyone else not to screw this up.” Stark gave Jack a once-over. “Have you used one of these before?”
“Remember the plant pollen?” When Stark nodded, he continued, “I burned Seth’s plants with one of these, so I think I’m good. Fair warning, I hate spiders.”
“They’re not spiders,” Stark replied automatically, leading the way to Taggart’s lab. “I’ve closed down this section and cleared it out. Those things shouldn’t be poisonous.”
“‘Shouldn’t’ be?” Jack jogged to catch up. “What do you mean?”
Stark grinned broadly. “To my knowledge, no one’s ever been bitten, so I don’t know for certain.”
Jack groaned. “I hate you.”
Stark just laughed. “Scared, Sheriff?”
“I really don’t like spiders,” Jack repeated. “And they look enough like spiders that it doesn’t matter that they’re not.”
“There’s still time to turn back,,” Stark replied.
Carter snorted. “And let you handle it by yourself? It’s my job, Stark, not yours.”
Stark took a sharp corner. “My job, too, Carter.”
“Allison’s the head of Global now,” Jack objected.
“And you want her here?”
“No.” Jack grimaced. “I just don’t get it.”
“Don’t get what?”
“You’re in the middle of everything,” Jack observed. “Including fixing Zoe a couple of weeks ago.”
“It wasn’t just Zoe who needed my help.” Stark glanced over his shoulder at Jack. “But she’s a good kid.”
“Yeah,” Jack agreed quietly. “So, you scared of anything?”
“Is this really the time?” Stark asked as they approached the hallway to Taggart’s lab.
“You already know my fear,” Jack replied, moving to flank Stark on the other side of the doorway.
Stark’s eyes were cool. “Losing people I care about. That’s what scares me.”
Jack was taken aback by Stark’s honesty, and he nodded to acknowledge that. “Let’s get this over with.”
They fired up the flamethrowers, roasting the first half dozen of the suckers immediately upon entering the lab. They were even freakier up close, Jack thought-a little bigger than a dinner plate, including rust-colored legs. The body was fat and hairy, with black eyes and pincers just below.
Jack tried to focus on killing them, instead of on the panic rising up to choke him.
And then one of them jumped at him.
He ducked, throwing up an arm to knock the creature aside, letting out a sound that he would later insist wasn’t a scream.
“Hold still, Carter!” Stark swung the nozzle on the flamethrower, and Jack closed his eyes, trying desperately not to move. He felt the nozzle brush his cheek, and Jack flinched, but remained still.
Stark was frying two more of the critters when Jack opened his eyes, and he immediately noticed one of the things sitting on the back of Stark’s fuel tank. With a grimace, Jack batted it off with his hand, not wanting the flame to get that close to the tank, and he stomped on it.
The spider-thing crunched and squished, and Jack gagged a little as green bug guts splattered everywhere.
“Thanks!”
“Yeah, anytime,” Jack muttered in response, focusing on the next wave.
The heat from the flamethrowers was attracting the creatures, which was the other reason fire was the weapon of choice. As Nathan had explained, they were resistant to pretty much every insecticide; as far as Jack knew, the things were that hardy on purpose-although what that purpose was, he had no idea.
It took several hours to track down and kill all of them, and by the time they had, Jack’s uniform shirt was soaked through with sweat, and he was covered in soot and bug guts.
With a weary sigh, Jack leaned over, bracing his hands on his knees. “Stark? We good?”
“That was the last of them,” Stark confirmed, unstrapping his tank and lowering it to the ground. “Oh, God, I need a shower.”
That should not have been a turn on, Jack thought, watching as Stark slid down the wall to sit on the floor, slumping wearily. They were both sweaty, with soot-streaked faces, and Jack thought he saw green goo in Stark’s hair.
And yet, somehow, Jack was still aroused. It might have been exhaustion, but Jack found himself getting free of his own tank, carefully setting it on the floor, and sliding down to sprawl next to the scientist.
“You okay, Sheriff?” Stark asked as their shoulders bumped, and the real concern in his voice had Jack reaching over and pulling down his head for a hard, sloppy kiss. He was too tired for more finesse, but Stark didn’t seem to mind as his lips parted, giving Jack’s tongue access.
Their teeth clashed, and Jack tilted his head a bit for a better angle, Stark’s hand gripping his right bicep hard enough to bruise.
Jack finally pulled back, staring at Stark warily.
“What was that?” Stark asked, sounding breathless; it did wonders for Jack’s ego.
Jack smirked. “That was a kiss. I figured you’d know.”
“Carter-” Stark began, his tone a warning, before switching tactics. “Jack.”
He sighed. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”
Stark raised an eyebrow. “How long exactly?”
“Fargo’s personal force field,” he admitted, figuring that he might as well go for broke. Stark hadn’t called him an idiot yet, which Jack found encouraging. “I figured it was hopeless.”
A smile tilted the corners of Stark’s mouth. “I’ve been thinking about it on and off since Callister,” he offered. “And I told you I swung a lot of things, Sheriff.”
Jack grinned. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, but I really am going to have to insist on a shower before continue this conversation,” Stark said brusquely, rising to his feet. “And possibly a bed and a meal.” He looked down at Jack and held out a hand. “But I wouldn’t mind some company.”
Jack let Stark haul him to his feet. “Sounds like a plan,” he replied, striving for nonchalant. “I guess that’s why they call you a genius.”
Stark grinned broadly. “You have no idea, Carter.”
Maybe not, but Jack couldn’t wait to find out.