"You managed to not get hurt this time around," Holly sniffs, studiously avoiding any comment on that nickname. She'd only encourage him, after all. "And I suppose the fact that you didn't require for me to spell it out for you on the driving bit, you deserve some commendation."
"I wasn't about to let you get hurt," he says. His voice is light, but so matter-of-fact that despite its gentle tones, the words are an emphatic declaration. The rearview mirror reflects blue eyes that glint hard as the blue steel of a polished gun-barrel. "I'll never save you, like you saved me. I'd die for you before it got to that point."
The bald-faced words make her breath catch in her throat. She doesn't want to acknowledge the sentiment behind them, but lying would be a waste of both their times. Jack's stubborn and infuriating, brash and occasionally uncouth, but he's not stupid and she hasn't been able to successfully click off her feelings since long before that last, fateful mission.
"Sweet of you to say. I'd kiss you if you weren't driving," she says, trying to affect a levity and nonchalance she doesn't feel.
The reflected eyes sharpen and the car swerves onto the shoulder, comes to an abrupt halt. Two clicks later, their seatbelts are undone. His arms cage her in, his eyes sear into hers. "I'm not driving now."
She feels the ends of her hair brush his fingertips as she tilts her head, silently counts out three heartbeats. And then their lips meet in a clash of tongues and teeth and fire as his hands yank her hair back and her fingers, still gloved and scented like gunpowder residue, pull him all the way in.
"You managed to not get hurt this time around," Holly sniffs, studiously avoiding any comment on that nickname. She'd only encourage him, after all. "And I suppose the fact that you didn't require for me to spell it out for you on the driving bit, you deserve some commendation."
"I wasn't about to let you get hurt," he says. His voice is light, but so matter-of-fact that despite its gentle tones, the words are an emphatic declaration. The rearview mirror reflects blue eyes that glint hard as the blue steel of a polished gun-barrel. "I'll never save you, like you saved me. I'd die for you before it got to that point."
The bald-faced words make her breath catch in her throat. She doesn't want to acknowledge the sentiment behind them, but lying would be a waste of both their times. Jack's stubborn and infuriating, brash and occasionally uncouth, but he's not stupid and she hasn't been able to successfully click off her feelings since long before that last, fateful mission.
"Sweet of you to say. I'd kiss you if you weren't driving," she says, trying to affect a levity and nonchalance she doesn't feel.
The reflected eyes sharpen and the car swerves onto the shoulder, comes to an abrupt halt. Two clicks later, their seatbelts are undone. His arms cage her in, his eyes sear into hers. "I'm not driving now."
She feels the ends of her hair brush his fingertips as she tilts her head, silently counts out three heartbeats. And then their lips meet in a clash of tongues and teeth and fire as his hands yank her hair back and her fingers, still gloved and scented like gunpowder residue, pull him all the way in.
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