Domestic Unrest (1/1)
Title: Domestic Unrest
Fandom: Eureka
Pairing: Jack/Nathan, established
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slash (duh), fluff, boykissingomg
Disclaimer: Not mine, etc.
Summary: "Fargo motioned Vincent closer before elaborating in a stage whisper, 'Apparently Doctor Stark and Doctor Carter hate each other with a passion that burns with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns.'" AU sometime between 2x03 "Unpredictable" and 2x04 "Games People Play".
Vincent cast a worried glance down the bar at Sheriff Carter, who was sitting quite comfortably a few seats away with a glass of root beer and something by somebody named Dean Koontz. "Isn't he usually home by now?" he asked Fargo in an undertone, ostensibly wiping the bar as he leaned close to speak to him.
Fargo went instantly into Super-Spy Mode, ducking his head and throwing a shifty glance back and forth before leaning forward, apparently to take a sip of his milkshake, and replied clandestinely, "All is not well at the House of Carter." Vincent's eyebrows touched his hairline, and Fargo motioned Vincent closer before elaborating in a stage whisper, "Apparently Doctor Stark and Doctor Carter hate each other with a passion that burns with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns."
Vincent covered his mouth with one hand. "Abby and Nathan aren't getting along?"
Fargo vehemently shook his head. "Not at all. And of course S.A.R.A.H.'s taking sides..." He sighed, then shrugged nonchalantly. "But, I mean, it's obvious what the problem is."
"Oh?" Vincent ducked under the bar for a glass and started polishing it, leaning on the bar with his back to Sheriff Carter. "What do you think?" he asked out the of the corner of his mouth, looking slyly at Fargo.
Fargo smirked. "Oh, come on. She's totally jealous. I mean, just, look at her. She's..." He snorted disdainfully. "She's so-so, less face it."
"So-so?" Vincent gave him a look. "Fargo, even I think she's gorgeous--"
"Well--" Fargo rolled his eyes. "Okay," he conceded with a huge sigh, "she's pretty enough, but, come on. She's pretty, and Doctor Stark is--a Greek god, come on, Vincent--"
"Fargo, are you calling my partner a Greek god again?" Sheriff Carter called without looking up from his book.
Fargo flushed and ducked his head. "Um. No, Sheriff...Carter..."
"I thought we talked about that," Carter said pleasantly, looking up as he dog-eared the corner of his page and closed the book. "And, we agreed that you weren't going to do that any more." He grinned at Fargo and looked down to check his watch.
The huge groan he heaved as he manfully hauled himself out of his chair spoke volumes to Vincent and Fargo, and the pair exchanged significant looks as he waved goodbye and headed out to his Jeep.
- - -
"Good evening, Sheriff Carter," S.A.R.A.H. chirped as he entered the bunker.
"Oh, that does not sound good," Jack muttered as he hung up his coat and tossed his keys in the dish. "What's got you all smug and cheerful?"
"I don't what you mean, Sheriff."
"Suuuure." Jack shook his head as he headed into the living room, and inwardly winced when he saw Abby curled on one of the couches. Her legs were drawn up onto the cushion, she was reading a book, and every line of her body screamed that if he went in there he was going to have his head torn off.
Damn it. "Hi, Abby," he said brightly (cautiously), taking a few steps into the living room. "How, um, how was your day?"
"Just fine," she replied shortly, her voice cheerily brittle and highly annoyed. "Your house and your boyfriend are making dinner."
Ah. "Oh. Um. Okay. I'll...just...go in there, then..." Jack hurried into the kitchen before any of that head-tearing-off stuff started happening.
Nathan was humming as he diced carrots in the kitchen, and S.A.R.A.H. was playing a jazzy counterpoint in the background as she adjusted the heat on the bubbling pot on the stove. "Hi, honey," Nathan greeted him almost gleefully, adding a cheerful "How was your day?"
Jack groaned as he headed to the refrigerator. "Nathan, how many times have I asked you to please not antagonize my ex-wife? And S.A.R.A.H., you are so not helping. Beer me."
"I'm not antagonizing her," Nathan protested, concealing his vicious smile with some difficulty. "I'm just making dinner."
"You know she wanted to make dinner tonight."
Nathan looked up at him, his face carefully blank. "I'd already started when she got here," he said after a moment, shrugging nonchalantly.
"Right." Jack shook his head as he took a sip of his beer. "Of course."
Nathan snorted, turning back to his vegetables. After a few moments, he sucked in a short breath and let it out, setting down the knife and turning to Jack, leaning against the kitchen island. "Are you mad at me?" he asked matter-of-factly, flashing his partner a short, not-remotely-ashamed smile.
Jack sighed, setting down his beer and letting a slow smile cross his face. "Well, even if I am, you know I can't be for long."
"Oh, good." Nathan smiled as Jack leaned in to press a short kiss to his lips. "For a second there, I was worried."
"Yeah." Jack took another sip of his beer, looking down at the floor and sighing again. "It's just that--Nathan, I know you don't like her here, but--"
"I don't have a problem with her being here," Nathan retorted automatically, picking up his knife again and turning back to the cutting board, reaching for the washed celery in the sink.
"Uh-huh." Jack watched him for a few moments, then noted quietly as he watched Nathan demolish half a stalk, "You're, um, gonna cut your hand."
Nathan paused, took a deep breath, and then slammed the knife down into the cutting board. Jack started slightly, wincing, as Nathan braced himself against the kitchen island, fists on either side of the cutting board, shoulders set, head down, his back rigid.
There was a long moment of silence. Jack watched his partner apprehensively, but Nathan just stood there, leaning on the island and staring down at his cutting board. Dimly it registered in Jack's mind that Sarah had stopped playing her jazzy music. It felt like she was holding her breath, too--like him, waiting for the explosion.
But when Nathan finally spoke, his voice was low, tight, and controlled. "Okay. You're right. I don't...like her here."
Jack flashed him a slightly uncomfortable smile, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the counter. "She's not staying long, Nathan."
"No." Nathan sighed, his shoulders still rigid and uncomfortable. "But she is your ex-wife and she is the mother of your child and she is..." He exhaled heavily. "Very pretty," he finished under his breath, his eyes hard.
Jack laughed. He couldn't help it. He instantly regretted it when Nathan's eyes flashed green and livid and hurt in his direction, but he couldn't help laughing just a bit. "Oh, Nathan..."
"See, this is why I didn't say anything," Nathan muttered, looking away, "I knew you'd--"
"Nathan, come on," Jack laughed, reaching out and pulling him closer before he could straighten up and walk away. Nathan was still staring determinedly away, but allowed himself to be dragged back. "Are you seriously jealous?"
"Well, how can I not be?" Nathan asked shortly, his tone defensive. "She was your wife. You were married for fifteen years. And..." He sighed, rolled his eyes. "I'm the boyfriend."
"Nathan." Jack grabbed his arms and shook him slightly, and Nathan grudgingly looked up into his eyes. "Abby's my ex. We split up a long time ago. And then I met y--" Nathan looked away, and Jack shook him again, forcing his eyes back up to Jack's. "Hey. Then I met you. And I swear, Nate, I've never been happier."
Nathan smiled slowly, shaking his head and laughing once, quietly. "Don't call me Nate," he warned him gently, and they grinned at each other.
"Are you okay? Are we good?" Jack asked not a little nervously, still holding Nathan's shoulders.
Nathan shrugged. "You could kiss me."
"Sounds good." Jack grinned, tugging on his arms and meeting Nathan's lips with his own, kissing him slowly and softly.
Nathan was smiling again when they pulled apart, his eyes still closed, and he licked his lips once, slowly, before opening his eyes and grinning wickedly at Jack. "Is it rude of us to be having a moment while she's in the next room?"
Jack winced, and Nathan laughed.
Fandom: Eureka
Pairing: Jack/Nathan, established
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slash (duh), fluff, boykissingomg
Disclaimer: Not mine, etc.
Summary: "Fargo motioned Vincent closer before elaborating in a stage whisper, 'Apparently Doctor Stark and Doctor Carter hate each other with a passion that burns with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns.'" AU sometime between 2x03 "Unpredictable" and 2x04 "Games People Play".
Vincent cast a worried glance down the bar at Sheriff Carter, who was sitting quite comfortably a few seats away with a glass of root beer and something by somebody named Dean Koontz. "Isn't he usually home by now?" he asked Fargo in an undertone, ostensibly wiping the bar as he leaned close to speak to him.
Fargo went instantly into Super-Spy Mode, ducking his head and throwing a shifty glance back and forth before leaning forward, apparently to take a sip of his milkshake, and replied clandestinely, "All is not well at the House of Carter." Vincent's eyebrows touched his hairline, and Fargo motioned Vincent closer before elaborating in a stage whisper, "Apparently Doctor Stark and Doctor Carter hate each other with a passion that burns with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns."
Vincent covered his mouth with one hand. "Abby and Nathan aren't getting along?"
Fargo vehemently shook his head. "Not at all. And of course S.A.R.A.H.'s taking sides..." He sighed, then shrugged nonchalantly. "But, I mean, it's obvious what the problem is."
"Oh?" Vincent ducked under the bar for a glass and started polishing it, leaning on the bar with his back to Sheriff Carter. "What do you think?" he asked out the of the corner of his mouth, looking slyly at Fargo.
Fargo smirked. "Oh, come on. She's totally jealous. I mean, just, look at her. She's..." He snorted disdainfully. "She's so-so, less face it."
"So-so?" Vincent gave him a look. "Fargo, even I think she's gorgeous--"
"Well--" Fargo rolled his eyes. "Okay," he conceded with a huge sigh, "she's pretty enough, but, come on. She's pretty, and Doctor Stark is--a Greek god, come on, Vincent--"
"Fargo, are you calling my partner a Greek god again?" Sheriff Carter called without looking up from his book.
Fargo flushed and ducked his head. "Um. No, Sheriff...Carter..."
"I thought we talked about that," Carter said pleasantly, looking up as he dog-eared the corner of his page and closed the book. "And, we agreed that you weren't going to do that any more." He grinned at Fargo and looked down to check his watch.
The huge groan he heaved as he manfully hauled himself out of his chair spoke volumes to Vincent and Fargo, and the pair exchanged significant looks as he waved goodbye and headed out to his Jeep.
- - -
"Good evening, Sheriff Carter," S.A.R.A.H. chirped as he entered the bunker.
"Oh, that does not sound good," Jack muttered as he hung up his coat and tossed his keys in the dish. "What's got you all smug and cheerful?"
"I don't what you mean, Sheriff."
"Suuuure." Jack shook his head as he headed into the living room, and inwardly winced when he saw Abby curled on one of the couches. Her legs were drawn up onto the cushion, she was reading a book, and every line of her body screamed that if he went in there he was going to have his head torn off.
Damn it. "Hi, Abby," he said brightly (cautiously), taking a few steps into the living room. "How, um, how was your day?"
"Just fine," she replied shortly, her voice cheerily brittle and highly annoyed. "Your house and your boyfriend are making dinner."
Ah. "Oh. Um. Okay. I'll...just...go in there, then..." Jack hurried into the kitchen before any of that head-tearing-off stuff started happening.
Nathan was humming as he diced carrots in the kitchen, and S.A.R.A.H. was playing a jazzy counterpoint in the background as she adjusted the heat on the bubbling pot on the stove. "Hi, honey," Nathan greeted him almost gleefully, adding a cheerful "How was your day?"
Jack groaned as he headed to the refrigerator. "Nathan, how many times have I asked you to please not antagonize my ex-wife? And S.A.R.A.H., you are so not helping. Beer me."
"I'm not antagonizing her," Nathan protested, concealing his vicious smile with some difficulty. "I'm just making dinner."
"You know she wanted to make dinner tonight."
Nathan looked up at him, his face carefully blank. "I'd already started when she got here," he said after a moment, shrugging nonchalantly.
"Right." Jack shook his head as he took a sip of his beer. "Of course."
Nathan snorted, turning back to his vegetables. After a few moments, he sucked in a short breath and let it out, setting down the knife and turning to Jack, leaning against the kitchen island. "Are you mad at me?" he asked matter-of-factly, flashing his partner a short, not-remotely-ashamed smile.
Jack sighed, setting down his beer and letting a slow smile cross his face. "Well, even if I am, you know I can't be for long."
"Oh, good." Nathan smiled as Jack leaned in to press a short kiss to his lips. "For a second there, I was worried."
"Yeah." Jack took another sip of his beer, looking down at the floor and sighing again. "It's just that--Nathan, I know you don't like her here, but--"
"I don't have a problem with her being here," Nathan retorted automatically, picking up his knife again and turning back to the cutting board, reaching for the washed celery in the sink.
"Uh-huh." Jack watched him for a few moments, then noted quietly as he watched Nathan demolish half a stalk, "You're, um, gonna cut your hand."
Nathan paused, took a deep breath, and then slammed the knife down into the cutting board. Jack started slightly, wincing, as Nathan braced himself against the kitchen island, fists on either side of the cutting board, shoulders set, head down, his back rigid.
There was a long moment of silence. Jack watched his partner apprehensively, but Nathan just stood there, leaning on the island and staring down at his cutting board. Dimly it registered in Jack's mind that Sarah had stopped playing her jazzy music. It felt like she was holding her breath, too--like him, waiting for the explosion.
But when Nathan finally spoke, his voice was low, tight, and controlled. "Okay. You're right. I don't...like her here."
Jack flashed him a slightly uncomfortable smile, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the counter. "She's not staying long, Nathan."
"No." Nathan sighed, his shoulders still rigid and uncomfortable. "But she is your ex-wife and she is the mother of your child and she is..." He exhaled heavily. "Very pretty," he finished under his breath, his eyes hard.
Jack laughed. He couldn't help it. He instantly regretted it when Nathan's eyes flashed green and livid and hurt in his direction, but he couldn't help laughing just a bit. "Oh, Nathan..."
"See, this is why I didn't say anything," Nathan muttered, looking away, "I knew you'd--"
"Nathan, come on," Jack laughed, reaching out and pulling him closer before he could straighten up and walk away. Nathan was still staring determinedly away, but allowed himself to be dragged back. "Are you seriously jealous?"
"Well, how can I not be?" Nathan asked shortly, his tone defensive. "She was your wife. You were married for fifteen years. And..." He sighed, rolled his eyes. "I'm the boyfriend."
"Nathan." Jack grabbed his arms and shook him slightly, and Nathan grudgingly looked up into his eyes. "Abby's my ex. We split up a long time ago. And then I met y--" Nathan looked away, and Jack shook him again, forcing his eyes back up to Jack's. "Hey. Then I met you. And I swear, Nate, I've never been happier."
Nathan smiled slowly, shaking his head and laughing once, quietly. "Don't call me Nate," he warned him gently, and they grinned at each other.
"Are you okay? Are we good?" Jack asked not a little nervously, still holding Nathan's shoulders.
Nathan shrugged. "You could kiss me."
"Sounds good." Jack grinned, tugging on his arms and meeting Nathan's lips with his own, kissing him slowly and softly.
Nathan was smiling again when they pulled apart, his eyes still closed, and he licked his lips once, slowly, before opening his eyes and grinning wickedly at Jack. "Is it rude of us to be having a moment while she's in the next room?"
Jack winced, and Nathan laughed.