Jack was used to uncomfortable sleeping positions -- the couch, the floor, his desk, his desk at work, Iraq. He'd run the course of shitty nights and it seemed to come full circle. When she was a baby, he used to fall asleep on the couch with Billie in his lap or curled up on his chest. She was doing that earlier, claiming body heat and glancing at Julius, to which Jack quickly agreed to be her body heat.
No way in Hell came to mind frequently.
It was comfortable at first, like when she'd fall asleep watching the game and just tip into his arms, but then she'd wriggled around and he'd ended up with a knee in his kidney, an elbow to his throat and sweating like a motherfucker because his sister was a fucking fire breathing dragon girl.
And now he seriously had to piss. Pushing her not so gently to the side, Jack slipped off the bed, tugging his shirt off and chucking it at her.
"Jacky... ew what the fuck you piece of shit, that's fucking disgusting!" Glaring at him, Billie blinked groggily, her voice never raised beyond a whisper even as she cussed him out. "Are you going to make doe eyes and the she-Callahan?"
"Fuck you, I'm going to take a piss."
"And make doe eyes at Keeks. Yo, you are so whipped it ain' even funny. Geez, Jackalope, you got it bad."
Somehow, because of the past week, Jack couldn't find it in himself to be pissed at her, bending down to kiss her forehead and shove his shirt back into her face amid her protesting giggles. It was good to have his baby sister back. "I'll quit making doe eyes at Kiki when you stop tryin' to figure out ways to jump Julius."
"Go take your piss break, bitch, it ain't gonna happen. No worries."
Rolling his eyes, Jack closed the door behind him, stealthily moving towards the bathroom before the light in the kitchen stopped him.
Or rather, it was the light that got his attention, it was the girl that stopped him. Clearing his throat, he knocked quietly on the doorframe. "Permission to approach, ma'am?"
She was in the middle of making her sandwich when she heard the voice in the doorway. Glancing up and over, she smiled...then gaped, realizing that the cute boy was in the room.
With her. In her underwear.
Biting back a squeal, she swiftly circled the butcher block and made sure it blocked her from the waist down. And that she was facing him...her hair was loose, but she wasn't taking any chances.
"Um...ummm...hi? I mean...yeah. With the permission...er...bugger..."
Still planted next to the doorframe, Jack lowered his gaze. "I can leave if you want. But for the record? I have a sister and work with women who don't care about changing into their civvies in front of me and you have incredibly nice legs."
Shit.
Fuck.
Damnit.
That wasn't supposed to be out loud. Awh, fuck. "I didn't mean to say that out loud."
For a moment, she was struck dumb by the split-second fantasy...that it was real, that he really had noticed her and that maybe, just maybe, he was actually and truly interested in her as a woman.
Then she got over it and blushed furiously, managing a polite smile as she lowered her gaze, suddenly fascinated by her bare feet.
"Ummm...wow." she drawled, laughing nervously as she raked a hand back through her hair. "Uh, listen...that's very sweet, but it's fine. There's no need to take being polite quite that far, so..."
Glancing up, she couldn't help but smile at the gesture, biting her lower lip to keep from giggling and failing miserably. In spite of herself, she waved back, then waved him into the kitchen.
"You're a bloody goof, a wanker, and far too polite for your own good." she informed him with a laugh. For the record, however, you've got nice legs yourself there, Tiger."
Mock flexing as he made his way into the kitchen, Jack's tone took on that of someone showing off with disaffected modesty -- a surfer boy if you wil. "Yeah, y'know man, I like... work out. I learned it from Arnold."
Yes, in fact, Jack Matthew Mosse was the biggest loser freak deviant dork on the face of the planet. But the gorgeous woman in front of him was smiling, and laughing, and really he didn't care at the moment because she should really smile like that more often and he was sure as there was snow in the north pole going to try.
Valkyrie lost it then, dissolving into giggles she fought to stifle with both hands over her mouth so she didn't wake up anyone. Doubling over, she rested her elbows on the butcher block, green eyes sparkling with humor as they met his in an effort not to watch him flex...because watching him flex was very, very nice. Too nice, really.
"Bloody hell!" she finally managed to gasp as she tried to collect herself. "You're either a complete nutter or a fucking macho prick, and seeing as how you're too adorable to be a prick, I'd have to go with complete nutter. All right, Jack Schwarzenegger, if you're all that and a bag of chips? Wanna strong-arm me a bottle of cold water from the icebox?"
Laughing, Jack opened the fridge and retrieved a bottle of water as she asked. "I am not nuts, thank you very much. You wanna see nuts then you gotta see Colby's ex. She is spazz incarnate."
Holding the bottle out he rolled his eyes. Oh Hil. "Look, I've said this already, and I'll probably say it again, but thanks for everything ya'll did for Short Stack. And now that I'm done ruinin' the mood, what're you doin' up this late?"
"That so?" she asked curiously, accepting the bottle of water from him with a smile. When he thanked her, she reached out and poked his side...bad idea, but she wasn't a good girl, so she tried very hard not to care.
"She's awesome. Consider it a tribute to the fact she's brilliant." she replied with a grin. She brushed off his question with a shrug as she went back to her sandwich...whole wheat bread, nummy num. God, she'd give anything for a slice of white...
"Work." was her only reply, rolling her shoulders a little as phantom pain made her scars burn. Stupid bloody nightmares...
Jack was grateful, insurmountably so, that Billie and Casey were the only Mosse's who were ticklish. A poke like that would have made Billie crazy, but she'd always been more tactile. She was cuddly, the boys were merely things to be cuddled.
As it was, he only shied away from the touch slightly. He wasn't ticklish, but it was anyone's natural reaction, to squirm out of the way.
He didn't reply to her answer, taking it for what it was. She must have seen some rough stuff in her job -- he could relate, he'd seen things he was really okay with never thinking about again. Ever. The mandated therapy was one thing.
Valkyrie fell silent again as she worked on her sandwich, shuffling back and forth between the fridge and the butcher block to get the things she needed. After a short while she glanced up at Jack while leaning across the butcher block to grab the mustard.
"Hungry?" she offered brightly. "You can have half my sandwich...I won't eat the whole thing." //As it is, I'm pushing it on the carbs.// she added silently to herself, making an additional mental note to check her blood sugar first thing in the morning.
As if he was going to say no to offered food. She should know better by now, he ate like an energizer bunny -- he just kept going. He was male. He liked food.
Plus, it looked delicious, and he said so. "It looks good, thanks."
Mortified by her slip of the tongue, she dropped the chicken in her hand and covered her face, giggling and blushing and praying the earth would swallow her hole. Oh God, oh God, she didn't just say that...
Jack snorted. And then laughed quietly, still managing to convey his big booming belly laugh even at whispers. It was soft and warm and entirely too amused to be decent.
When he could control the laughter, arms braced against the butcher block, he looked over at her, dissolving into laughter again immediately. "Good... toknow..."
"Sod off, you wanker!" she laughed, walking around to shove him playfully, still beet red. "God, where the bugger's a hole for me to crawl into? I'll kick your bloody arse...come help me sew my ruddy lips shut, I should be killed..."
No way in Hell came to mind frequently.
It was comfortable at first, like when she'd fall asleep watching the game and just tip into his arms, but then she'd wriggled around and he'd ended up with a knee in his kidney, an elbow to his throat and sweating like a motherfucker because his sister was a fucking fire breathing dragon girl.
And now he seriously had to piss. Pushing her not so gently to the side, Jack slipped off the bed, tugging his shirt off and chucking it at her.
"Jacky... ew what the fuck you piece of shit, that's fucking disgusting!" Glaring at him, Billie blinked groggily, her voice never raised beyond a whisper even as she cussed him out. "Are you going to make doe eyes and the she-Callahan?"
"Fuck you, I'm going to take a piss."
"And make doe eyes at Keeks. Yo, you are so whipped it ain' even funny. Geez, Jackalope, you got it bad."
Somehow, because of the past week, Jack couldn't find it in himself to be pissed at her, bending down to kiss her forehead and shove his shirt back into her face amid her protesting giggles. It was good to have his baby sister back. "I'll quit making doe eyes at Kiki when you stop tryin' to figure out ways to jump Julius."
"Go take your piss break, bitch, it ain't gonna happen. No worries."
Rolling his eyes, Jack closed the door behind him, stealthily moving towards the bathroom before the light in the kitchen stopped him.
Or rather, it was the light that got his attention, it was the girl that stopped him. Clearing his throat, he knocked quietly on the doorframe. "Permission to approach, ma'am?"
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With her. In her underwear.
Biting back a squeal, she swiftly circled the butcher block and made sure it blocked her from the waist down. And that she was facing him...her hair was loose, but she wasn't taking any chances.
"Um...ummm...hi? I mean...yeah. With the permission...er...bugger..."
Reply
Shit.
Fuck.
Damnit.
That wasn't supposed to be out loud. Awh, fuck. "I didn't mean to say that out loud."
Reply
Then she got over it and blushed furiously, managing a polite smile as she lowered her gaze, suddenly fascinated by her bare feet.
"Ummm...wow." she drawled, laughing nervously as she raked a hand back through her hair. "Uh, listen...that's very sweet, but it's fine. There's no need to take being polite quite that far, so..."
Reply
To make his point, and to break the ice he'd so successfully frozen solid, he waved, smiling a little crookedly.
So far so good, sign language was a go.
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"You're a bloody goof, a wanker, and far too polite for your own good." she informed him with a laugh. For the record, however, you've got nice legs yourself there, Tiger."
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Yes, in fact, Jack Matthew Mosse was the biggest loser freak deviant dork on the face of the planet. But the gorgeous woman in front of him was smiling, and laughing, and really he didn't care at the moment because she should really smile like that more often and he was sure as there was snow in the north pole going to try.
Reply
"Bloody hell!" she finally managed to gasp as she tried to collect herself. "You're either a complete nutter or a fucking macho prick, and seeing as how you're too adorable to be a prick, I'd have to go with complete nutter. All right, Jack Schwarzenegger, if you're all that and a bag of chips? Wanna strong-arm me a bottle of cold water from the icebox?"
Reply
Holding the bottle out he rolled his eyes. Oh Hil. "Look, I've said this already, and I'll probably say it again, but thanks for everything ya'll did for Short Stack. And now that I'm done ruinin' the mood, what're you doin' up this late?"
Reply
"She's awesome. Consider it a tribute to the fact she's brilliant." she replied with a grin. She brushed off his question with a shrug as she went back to her sandwich...whole wheat bread, nummy num. God, she'd give anything for a slice of white...
"Work." was her only reply, rolling her shoulders a little as phantom pain made her scars burn. Stupid bloody nightmares...
Reply
As it was, he only shied away from the touch slightly. He wasn't ticklish, but it was anyone's natural reaction, to squirm out of the way.
He didn't reply to her answer, taking it for what it was. She must have seen some rough stuff in her job -- he could relate, he'd seen things he was really okay with never thinking about again. Ever. The mandated therapy was one thing.
Reply
"Hungry?" she offered brightly. "You can have half my sandwich...I won't eat the whole thing." //As it is, I'm pushing it on the carbs.// she added silently to herself, making an additional mental note to check her blood sugar first thing in the morning.
Reply
As if he was going to say no to offered food. She should know better by now, he ate like an energizer bunny -- he just kept going. He was male. He liked food.
Plus, it looked delicious, and he said so. "It looks good, thanks."
Reply
Mortified by her slip of the tongue, she dropped the chicken in her hand and covered her face, giggling and blushing and praying the earth would swallow her hole. Oh God, oh God, she didn't just say that...
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When he could control the laughter, arms braced against the butcher block, he looked over at her, dissolving into laughter again immediately. "Good... toknow..."
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