2007-06-10: A Special Kind of Magic


Jack_icon.gif Trina_icon.gif


Jack has a big surprise for Trina. They're not gonna have to move after all.

Date It Happened: June 10, 2007

A Special Kind of Magic

Jack's Apartment

Jack is up early. Then again, Jack's always up early. At his stealthiest, he's been quietly working on a batch of homemade cinnamon rolls for most of the morning. The TV is on, muted, and tuned to a recap of last night's hockey game as the Irishman gingergly cuts the rolls with dental floss and sets them on a tray. His sleeveless blue shirt is liberally dusted with flower and cinammon, as are his loose black sweats. The bruise across the left side of his head and cheek has faded to a sickly greenish-yellow, the swelling in his eye is nearly abated, and just this morning he cut and pulled the stiches from the cut on his mouth. Barefoot and humming quietly under his breath, he turns to refill his coffee cup from a still-heating pot. In his haste to finish with the rolls, he sloshes coffee over his knuckles. Swearing, he rattles the pot back into place and stuffs his hand into a cold, barely touched glass of milk. Effective, if inelegant.

If it were just the cursing, the perpetually late-rising Trina might not awaken. She's comfortable, after all, in the tee shirt that she stole from Jack at some point in the night, and early hours have never been considered to be one of her friends. However, the rattle of a coffee pot causes her to finally stir.
One blue eye with its smeared application of eyeliner and flaking mascara cracks open into a draconic slit as the brunette peers into the blinding brightness that is morning. Then there is a groan and some unintelligible tangle of syllables that sounds something like 'Make go way'. There. Now that she's said good morning to the world, she grabs the pillow back and pulls it over her head and hides back under the sheets.

Jack withdraws his hand from its milkbath and chuckles under his breath. After shaking off into the sink, he grabs up a tea towel that's embroidered at the corners with posies and dries off the rest of the way. The sheet of rolls finds its way into the oven, then Jack picks up a watch from the countertop and glances at it. Almost one PM. Smiling, he grabs the his of coffee and ascends the ladder to the loft. After setting the mug down on the beside table, he slides between the sheets and snuggles up to Trina. "And a merry "mrrarraw" to you," he murmurs.

One PM is still early! When you don't get to sleep 'till 4. As Jack slips back into bed, however, Trina relinquishes her hold on the pillow. There are far better things to be holding onto now. Rolling over, she moves to settle her head on his chest, curling against him. It's warm there, and her senses are so easily lulled by the smell of him. By the solid pound of his heartbeat against her ear. It's a satisfied purring sound that denotes her morning greeting for a few moments as she fights tooth and nail to get her way into the land of the awake. After a few moments of precious silence, there's a sharp inhalation of breath. No. Must. Get. Up. "Heya, hot stuff. 'm I late?"

"Nah," Jack replies, nuzzling his cheek against the top of Trina's head. One arm curls around behind her neck to cushion her body, his other hand tangles affectionately in the hair at the nape of her neck. "But I'm bakin' cinnamon rolls, and I brought you some coffee. Why don't you shake that pretty behind outta bed and enjoy some daylight with me?"

"Or you could stay right here and enjoy the indirect light with me." Her voice riddled with a mumbled amusement, a smile curls rosy lips. Trina's body arches, however, as she stirs herself into a tiny stretch with a yawn. Then her eyes blink blearily open. There. Awake-ish. Finally looking up at Jack, she can't but smile a little more. "D'you really make rolls?"

Jack nods and lets out a low, rumbling purr. "Mmhmm. With pecans an' icing an' stuff. If you wanna stay in bed I can bring you some." His voice is muffled by Trina's hair, but he doesn't seem to mind, instead inhaling a deep whiff of her pleasant, feminine smell.

"No," Trina replies, slender fingers gingerly starting to walk up along his chest on a march towards his lips. "Stay." A leg moves, intertwining with one of his playfully beneath the covers and making any departure that much harder. "You better be careful, sugar. A girl could get used to this kinda treatment, and then you'll be in a whole world of trouble." A soft, playful tap finds its way to his nose. "Won't ever wanna leave."

Grinning lopsidedly, Jack leans up to snap playfully at Trina's fingertips. "You say that like I wouldn't want it," Mindless of the fact that he's already gotten flour on both Trina and his bed, he cuddles closer to her and slides both arms around her waist. "Besides, I like it when you stay over. I get a workout, and then in the morning I get to cook and play like I'm a gentleman."

Like a gentleman? Such a statement brings only protest. "You *are* a gentleman," Trina insists, her Southern accent made more pronounced by drowsiness and the girl completely unaware of his powdery flour contamination. "Y'make me feel like the whole world goes away here. Like everythin' is right and as it should be. You're a special kinda magic, Jack. 'Get me all lost in it." Tilting her head up, she moves to claim a kiss from nearby lips.

Jack leans back down to happily return the kiss. After a long moment he pulls away and looks into Trina's eyes. There's a warm blush on his cheeks, and he's wearing an uncommonly shy smile. "You bring out the best in me," he admits quietly. "Lately I care about things I never would've before I met you. And I like it. It's you. Love you." Never at his best when expressing himself, he buries his face in the crook of Trina's neck and shoulder to conceal his embarassment.

"n' I love you," Trina offers with a distinct softness, fingers gently running across his hair. "S'why everythin' is alright here, I'd guess." There's another purr, and now it's the young woman's turn to just cradle the man in her arms. Isn't a reason to be embarassed here. "Given any more thought to North Dakota? The magic can travel."

The mention of another state is enough to grab Jack's attention. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you," he begins tentatively. Dropping one hand to his side, he snaps his fingers and produces a hefty envelope that's still sealed with the original sticky. "I talked to the guy who was tailing you. I convinced him to leave you alone. This is all the information he had about you and whatever trouble you'd gotten into."

Trina's eyes open wide at that. What do you say? She very slowly sits up and stares at Jack, positively incredulous and slack-jawed. It's hard to form thoughts at first. When at last she comes to her senses there's a disbelieving chuckle, even with the very significant bit of manilla in her boyfriend's hands. "Really? …He… Really?"

Jack props himself up a bit and nods. He places the envelope on Trina's chest, then rests two long fingers on it lightly. "I didn't open it. Don't matter much to me what sort of trouble you've seen in the past. It's who you are now that I'm fond of." With that he moves his hand, leaving the packet and its contents to Trina.

For a long time, all Trina can do is stare blankly at Jack. When her eyes move to the manilla envelope, she doesn't particularly want to open it. But there's the very practical side of her that knows she must in order to verify its contents.

There's a slight tremble to her fingers as she slides them under the glue, lifting the flap. After she swallows down her fear with a hefty push from her esophagus, Trina finally pushes the sides to open it enough to glimpse inside. A glimpse is, apparently, all it takes. It's enough, and she's done looking, the envelope suddenly hugged protectively against her chest. Her eyes close and reality crashes in on her, but only for a moment. She only lets it have a moment of her time. The rest of her time is Jack's, she decides, and she throws herself against him with the envelope held tightly in her arms with her head turned down and her face veiled by dark hair so he can't see the stupid, weak tears that well up in her eyes. "I… I don't know what to say. I really don't. But whatever you want or need, 's yours."

"I've got everthing I need, baby." Jack clutches Trina to his chest and squeezes her affectionately. With one hand, he brushes a few strands of hair away from her face. Then he leans in and kisses away a few tears. "Got you. And you make me happy. Besides, a gentleman is s'posed to protect his lady."

"I don't think I ever was happy 'til I met you. Not like this." Tears aren't the only the things that find themselves in receipt of kisses as Trina pushes her lips against Jack's in the hope that they'll communicate more clearly the extent of her adoration. …And then her wry grin escapes partway through. It's her solemn duty to keep them from drowning in the sugary depths. "You didn't do this just 'cuz of some secret hatred of North Dakota, right? Forget the word. Sub-something."

"I believe you're thinkin' of subterfuge," Jack replies cheekily. He sags against Trina and lets out a quiet, happy rumble from somewhere deep in his throat. "Can't say I'm displeased that we won't have to skip town. I would've milked cows if that's what it took, though." Chuckling, he nips at Trina's earlobe and murmurs, "That's right. I care so much, I'd squeeze cow boobies if it'd make you smile."

There's a quiet sigh of pleasure at Jack's closeness, Trina shoving the nasty envelope with all of its nasty contents to the side. It can disappear forever under the bed for all she cares. "While I'm sure you'd be the highlight of the cows' day, the thought of you gropin' and milkin' cows is really funny and I'm having a fuckin' dickens of a time trying not to laugh right now. Which means that it's time for cinnamon buns and coffee so that I," Kiss. "Have time," Another blissful kiss. "To get that abso-fuckin'-lutely hysterical image out of my head and rightly thank you 'fore I get kicked outta here."

"Shit!" Like a flash, Jack is up and heading for the kitchen. When the buns are pulled out they're slightly over-brown. They still taste good to him. Who doesn't love breakfast with a pretty lady?

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