2007-08-19: DF: I Miss You Already

Starring:

DFTrina_icon.gif DFJack_icon.gif

Summary: "I'll be back before you've missed me. Promise promise."

Dark Future Date: August 19th, 2009

Log Title I Miss You Already


Location: The garage, during Jack and Trina's wedding reception.

The music fades from a loud, happy burble to a lower, more muted hum when the door slides closed behind Jack and Trina. The Irishman is tugging his new wife (WIFE!) away from the bulk of their reception party for a quiet(er) moment alone. His location of choice? The garage, of course.

Jack squeezes Trina's hand and draws her into a close, warm embrace. "This is the happiest I've ever been," he murmurs blissfully, his face nestled into her hair.

Trina is easily led away from the party, biting her lower lip as she tries to fight the huge grin as they make their escape from the group like naughty teenagers. In the quiet, there's only the sound of footsteps and breathing until, after what feels like an eternity, the dark haired woman finds herself pulled up into arms. Her hands move to rest on Jack's chest as she lays her head on his shoulder.

"Me, too," she confesses, a small frown on her lips. "I-I really didn't think you meant it." That frown… can't stay. She sighs contentedly, and her mouth finds a smile again. "I mean, that it'd happen. Someday. 'Specially not in a week." She squeezes in, pressing fondly against him. "You're still all full of surprises."

"I've got one more in store for you," Jack murmurs. He caresses her cheek affectionately, far from offended by her doubtful admission. Who could blame her? Their lives have been so dangerous. Too dangerous. No sane person would try and settle down right now. Unless…

Jack's eyes crinkle up at the corners as he smiles shyly. His hands slide down to cup and squeeze Trina's shoulders. Though they're married now, he still ducks his head and scuffs one boot against the concrete floor abashedly as he fingers the fabric of her shirt. "I'm ready. To give it up, I mean. I'm not the strappin' buck I was when all this started." He shifts his feet nervously, uncomfortable with the admission. "I can barely keep up with the kids anymore. I wanna retire and be with you. Somewhere safe."

He's close. She breathes in deeply the comfort of his closeness and settles into the strength of his hands. And then Jack says something that entirely catches her off-guard. Trina's head jerks back a little, just enough so that she can look at him with narrowed blue eyes. She's confused, and her smile fades a tad in the wake of it, only to be recharged with teasing. "You're makin' it sound like you're *old*, baby. Like I married someone's grandpa."

Jack shrugs one shoulder and frowns minutely. "Not old," he mutters. "Just tired. 'Always do everything you ask of those you command.' Patton said that an' he was right. I just can't do it anymore, baby." Momentarily frustrated, he pounds the bottom of his fist against his bad leg. "Soul's willing enough, but the body don't agree. If I can't lead 'em properly, I ought to make room for someone who can. You an' I could…" He glances away.

Trina lifts her hand, a finger pointing and then tugging upward at one corner of her husband's mouth. Smile. It feels like this. Her head cants to one side as she inspects him, nothing but honesty in the easy curl of her mouth. "I'd like that, sugar. Go somewhere. Go to bed with you every night. Wake up with you every morning. Maybe I'd even learn to cook and spoil you rotten." There's a small, hollow chuckle as she continues. "I never really had the stomach for this."

Jack lets out a happy, surprised 'eeep' when Trina give him the answer that he'd been hoping and praying for. He self-consciousness evaporates and he near-tackles her, sweeping her off her feet and into a fierce, tight hug. "You had me at 'I'd like that,'" he purrs. Though it's marred by his damaged voice box, his laugh is still rich and robust, calling up memories of a less dangerous time. His infamous crooked grin stretches across his face, making him look younger than his twenty-eight going on thirty-eight years. It doesn't last long, though. He cups both his hands against Trina's face and looks into her eyes, his expression solemn and adoring. "I know that this was never what you wanted, but you always stuck by me. I've no words for what that means to me."

As she's caught up in the exuberant display of affection, it's all Trina can do to not loudly squeal in glee, caught up in his joy. There is a tiny squeak, however, that she would be forced to confess if asked. When his hands are on her face, hers move to cover them. "Honey. I love you. Ain't nothin' in the world could make me ever be anywhere else than where you need me. You changed everything, jus' by lovin' me." Rolling up onto the balls of her feet, Trina gingerly stretches up to claim herself another kiss. Yes. One of those, please.

One of those, indeed. Jack is happy to provide, and makes a low, rumbling sound of pleasure from the back of his throat. He closes his eyes and sighs in a deep, satisfied breath, then reluctantly pulls back. "I love you too," he replies. "You're my girl. Mine. Forever." Though he stumbles over the words in public, he's long since reached the point where he can utter them in private without stuttering like a schoolboy. His lopsided smile stretches wider "God, listen to us. We're like high school sweethearts. No wonder we make everybody sick. I'm not the least bit sorry 'bout it, either."

"Neither am I." Trina's voice is a purr when it again makes itself heard. Everything about this is so shiny and golden and perfect. He loves her. He married her. He's going to sweep in like a shining knight from a storybook and carry her away from all of this sadness and death. She'd leave with him tonight if she could. "So when do you wanna tell the others?" His team. His call.

"I'll tell them tomorrow morning while they're all still tender with hangovers," Jack answers. His grin takes on a wry, smirking cast. In his mind it's a sound tactical maneuver. People rarely want to yell and protest when they have splitting headaches and an intense desire to review their stomach's contents. "Besides, I wanna go see Nate tonight. Tell him what happened. Apologize to him. With Logan gone, I've finally got my best friend back. If we're gonna leave town tomorrow and start over, I wanna do it with a clean slate."

There's a giddy series of bounces. She'd say she wanted to stay to be with the others. To help. Unfortunately, the truth of the matter is, frankly, that Jack is Trina's primary concern and getting him away from the risk is nearly more euphoric a proposition than getting married. Now he's giving her that opportunity. Tomorrow morning! The promise earns him another fervent kiss. …And then there's… talk of leaving. She frowns at that. This is their honeymoon night. She doesn't want to share. "Can't we… do it on the way out or something?"

"I'll be awake long after you go to sleep," he reminds her gently. "So there's no worry about having to share me. I'll need to take the packing plant offline an' pack some things if we're gonna leave in the morning, anyway." He laces his fingers through hers and slowly tugs her toward one of the many cars that's parked in the underground garage. A sly smile spreads across his face, chasing away the concerned wrinkles that were beginning to form at the thought of his coming conversations with Nathan, Elena, and the rest of the Saints. With his good mood restored, Jack winks at his wife and waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "I think it's high time for some consumatin'. Wot say we strip down an' shine the hood?"

For what might be the first time in their entire relationship, Trina doesn't immediately bend to the will of libido. She chuckles, sure, and her eyebrows lift. Fingers move to dance along his waistband, and her gaze drops to watch their tightrope routine along its edge. Walk, walk, dip, walk. If he won't stay, there is another option. "I could go with you."

Jack nips at Trina's neck, then at her ear. "Soooo sweet," he croons. "You're always lookin' out for me. Don't worry, baby. When I go, I won't be long. He and I gotta have a man to man kinda chat, though." He gathers up her long, silky hair and strokes his fingers through it, savoring the softness and relishing in her presence. He nuzzles against her cheek and purrs, "Just a quick round o' cards and I'll be back before you wake up. Promise."

Dammit. He knows the weak spots, and he's going right for them. His breath is hot on her skin, and she feels so alive — like waking up after a horrible nightmare, only to find the sun shining and in full glory. It's a heat that banishes all doubt, burning fear and worry away like chaff. Trina's knees sag a little, an outward sign of her delight… and her determination going right out the window. Four hours, and he'd probably be right here again. There's a tiny little grunt, and finally she decides it's not worth arguing about. He'll be back and then they'll get going. Maybe they'll go to Spain. Or Greece. As long as it's not this Hell hole anymore, it doesn't really matter. "Promise promise?"

Jack kisses Trina again deeply, putting every ounce of passion and emotion that he could never verbally convey into the contact. He's not eloquent. He doesn't know how to express this feeling. The amazing, radiant joy in his core is expanding, and as it does it pushes away the confusion, heartache, and hate that's driven him for so long. He's not a scalpel. He's a broadsword. Maybe he can explain with a kiss what he so desperately wants her to know.

When he pulls away he groans quietly, like a man dragged from a pleasant dream. He nuzzles his cheek against hers and sighs. Tonight, all is right in the world.

"Promise promise," he whispers. "I'll be back before you've missed me."

"What if I miss you already?" Trina's question lingers on the air, as she leaves no chance to answer. Her mouth is already moving to catch Jack's, conveying in kind what only the wordless language of kisses and caresses can relay as she leans him into the softer, draped form of Baby.

She loves him. Now she knows that they're going to survive this. They're going to escape somewhere and they'll get old and grey. Probably fat, knowing their love of food. They'll write letters at Christmas and have people over for Thanksgiving. They'll whine to each other about how doctors are cutting them off from all of the best foods in life. Most importantly, however, they're going to be together. Life is going to be normal. She's gonna find a way to give Jack the normal life that everybody and their brother seems so intent on denying him because, damn it all, he's earned it. They both have, twice over.

Right now, though, the only thing of importance is proving to her husband that he's never gonna need to get his lovin' anywhere else ever again.

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