"'Morning," said Jack. "I see my kisses aren't good enough to wake you, but my dog's are..."
She laughed and rolled from her back to her side, so that she lay facing him.
"You got it," she said. "What time is it?"
"It's just a little after 7:00," he repeated, softer this time, as he leaned in for his morning kiss, which she returned eagerly. He eased his head away from her. "Good morning."
Behind her, the puppy was struggling to climb over her. He finally managed to clear her hip, and landed with a puppy version of an "oof" on his back in the small space between herself and Jack.
"What's the matter, baby?" asked Claire in a put-on voice, "Aren't we paying enough attention to you?"
He let out a melancholy yip, and Jack and Claire chuckled.
"Guess not," said Jack jovially as he reached out to pat the chubby tummy the puppy proffered. The pat turned into a rub, and soon the puppy's leg was pounding furiously against the bed. "My God, you'd think he was that rabbit from 'Bambi'... what was his name?"
"Thumper?" offered Claire.
"Thumper, that's right," said Jack. "Hey...Wait! I've got it..."
"Okay, spill it."
"What do you think of 'Shakes'?"
"Oh...no, Jack. Not Shakes."
"Why not?"
"Ever heard of a movie called 'Shakes the Clown'? A movie about a psychotic clown?"
"Oh...well. I guess I can't name my dog after a psychotic clown," he agreed. "But so far this leg thing is his defining characteristic."
"You already came up with a name."
"Did I?"
"Thumper?"
"Hey...I like it. Thumper it is."
As if to punctuate his naming ceremony, Thumper let out his loudest, most adult dog-like bark to date.
*****
They got out of bed after a few moments of light physical play with Thumper. Claire slipped into her robe, and Jack put his jeans back on.
Claire made coffee, and they stood cuddling in the kitchen as it brewed. A few minutes later found Claire sitting Indian-style on the living room floor, the puppy bouncing around her, as Jack lit a fire. When he had the fire going nicely, Jack seated himself on the sofa.
Claire stood and went to the tree. She retrieved a rectangular box which she gave to Jack. He opened it to reveal a mid-weight sweater in a hue of deep maroon.
"I read somewhere once that wearing a sweater that came as a present from a loved one is like wearing a hug from that person all day long."
She said it rather seriously, and they both broke out into instant laughter.
"I guess that sounds a helluva lot cornier when said out loud."
Jack nodded, grinning at her. "Thanks, babe, I love it. Now you open one."
"Which one?"
"The flat one that's like a thick piece of paper."
She knelt by the tree and opened the gift. According to the box, it was a silver frame. She opened the box and pulled out the frame. Somehow, Jack had managed to obtain a picture from the Christmas party, that had been taken, unbeknownst to them, as they danced. They were looking at one another intently in the picture, their feelings for each other obvious.
"How did you get this?"
"I was going through some of the pictures with Adam, and I saw this one, well, the larger picture it came from, and so I called the photographer and had him crop it and blow it up."
"It's great, Jack. Thank you," she said, and got up and went to him, kissing him on the cheek.
Jack stood to get the rest of the presents they had gotten for each other.
"My turn," he said, and began to tear into the paper of his final gift from Claire. When it was opened, he revealed a set of antique, miniature scales, the set she'd gotten from a local antique shop. "Oh, Claire. These are wonderful. Thank you. Now I just have to decide if I want to put them in my office, or keep them in my apartment."
"That was going to be your big present until I thought of the puppy. I had a heck of a time locating these."
"I bet," said Jack. "Okay, time for your last one."
She picked up the final box, a rectangular one, not unlike the one the necklace he'd given her for her birthday had come in, but this one was somewhat shorter. When the wrapping paper was gone, she discovered that it was, indeed, another black velvet jewelry box.
"Oh....Jack...." she sighed, slowly opening the box, gasping in shock as she realised she was looking at a diamond tennis bracelet. She lifted it gingerly, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. "Jack...My God...this is incredible! But...it's too much...I can't accept it."
"Nonsense," he told her, "I'm not taking it back, and I'm not telling you where I bought it, because I don't want you returning it, either."
He took it from her, saying, "Give me your wrist." When she had, he clasped the bracelet about her wrist, the diamonds shining in the light of the room. "See, it was made for you."
"It's gorgeous, Jack, thank you! I've never....never owned a piece of jewelry this fabulous before."
"You're welcome," he told her, leaning in as she did, meeting her lips with his own.
After a moment, Claire pulled away, a huge smile on her face, and said, "So...can I expect a new piece of jewelry for every major gift-giving occasion? Cuz ya know...Valentine's Day isn't too far off, and Easter comes soon after that. I may want to put in a few requests..."
"What happened to 'I can't accept this'?"
"I changed my mind. Every girl loves diamonds."
"I think I may be in trouble," said Jack, a mock-worried look passing over his face.
"Your own damn fault," she teased. "What's in the other box? A sapphire-encrusted tiara?"
"No, Princess...and it's not for you, anyhow. It's for Lucy."
"Really?" asked Claire, her eyes lighting up. How sweet of Jack to buy a gift for her cat. "Let's find her and give it to her."
Lucy was sleeping in the over-stuffed easy chair in Claire's room. They knelt before her, and Claire opened the gift --a catnip mouse toy, and a bag of fresh catnip.
"Oh, Jack! Give her some of this stuff and you're going to have a friend for life!"
Jack opened the bag and offered some to Lucy in his upturned palm. She ate it gingerly, then settled back down. It would be a few moments until it kicked in.
"Soooo...." sighed Jack as he stood, pulling Claire up with him, up into his arms. "Am I to take it by your last remark that you plan on keeping me around for a while?"
"If you're good."
"IF??? IF I'm good?"
"You heard me."
"I heard you...but I don't understand the meaning of this 'if'," he said, playing along with her. "I was under the impression, last night included, that I AM good."
"One would think that a man of your advanced years would have figured out before now how to tell when a woman is faking it...."
Jack clutched his chest. "Faking? I'm wounded to the quick! But tell me something, because I'm curious, and maybe you can help me understand," he began as he backed Claire up until she felt the bed against the backs of her legs. "If I'm so lousy, why is it that you feel the need to initiate a good 50% of our sexual encounters?"
"Because you're not always lousy," she said jovially. "Sometimes, you're adequate."
"Adequate?" he asked, pretending offence as his hands reached down to tug on the sash of her robe.
Claire nodded, eyes open wide. Jack sensed a challenge in there somewhere, and being the sort of man who rises to any challenge (real or imaginary), he set about to prove his virility.
As he divested her of the robe, he said, "I'll give you adequate."
Instead, he rocked her world.
They lay together, spent, for some time. Claire's head was nestled in the crook of Jack's shoulder, and Jack lay on his back with one arm wrapped around her, his face buried in her silken hair. She was tracing Jack's chest with her fingers when they heard Lucy hiss. They sat up to see Thumper sitting on his hind legs at the foot of the chair Lucy occupied, a piece of discarded wrapping paper hanging from his mouth. Behind him, a trail lead out of Claire's room and down the hall.
"Oh, no!" she exclaimed.
Jack laughed.
"That reminds me," said Claire, "I have a bone to pick with you."
"Really? And what would that be?"
"Your dog pissed on my floor."
They laughed, drawing Thumper's attention, giving Lucy free passage to escape. Thumper's head swung around to see Lucy bounding out of the room, and he took off after her.
"Poor Luce," said Claire.
"I'll save her," said Jack as he stood and put on his jeans.
Claire watched as he made his way down the hall,, gathering shredded bits of wrapping paper as he went. She got up, picked up her robe and headed for the bathroom. She flipped on the light, opened the shower door, and turned the faucet on. After a moment, she stepped into the hot stream. A minute or two passed, and she began to wash her hair. She was rinsing the shampoo out when the door opened and Jack stepped in. Without a word, he reached up to help her finish rinsing the suds from her hair, then, silently reached for her bottle of conditioner.
After she had washed his hair, Jack asked her, "What time are we supposed to be at your mother's?"
"10 for breakfast with Mom, Mac, and Mac's mother. Later on, the rest of the family will be there, and we'll have dinner around 4. I hope you're hungry, because we pretty much eat all day."
"Good," he said, "I'd say we worked up quite an appetite this morning."
Claire smiled. Jack had picked up the bar of soap and the washcloth, and he began to lather her up, doing her back first, and then turning her so he could do the front. He lingered a little longer over her breasts than cleansing required. When it was Jack's turn to be washed, Claire repeated nearly the same pattern he had used with her. However, instead of turning him away from her to do his back, she took the sudsy wash cloth, pressed her slick body against his, slipped her arm beneath his, and lathered his back that what. She brought her arm around the front again, and scrubbed his arms, shoulders, chest, and stomach. Her hand slipped lower and she began to lightly soap the flaccid essence of him that had so recently brought her so much pleasure, and now lay dormant, nestled against his body.
Instead of the perfunctory cleansing he had expected, her hand lingered there. He looked down into her beautiful face, her eyes light and happy, all trace of the troubles of the past weeks gone. He could see the glee in her face, and knew she derived such pleasure from teasing him the way she now was, from the feeling of power her ability to arouse him even when he'd just been spent gave her. When he felt that old, familiar tightness in his stomach and loins he groaned and moved her had away.
"Something wrong?" she asked, eyes laughing, trying to suppress a smile.
"You're brazen," he told her, "Know that?"
"I try."
*****
At twenty minutes before 10, they pulled up in front of the Geller residence. They had to park down the block, and they sat in the car for a few moments.
"Nervous?" she asked.
"Maybe a little. You?"
She reached over and took his hand, nodding. "It'll be fine," she said, as much to reassure herself as it was to reassure him. She squeezed, and he squeezed back.
"C'mon," he said, and then let go of her hand. He opened his door, and she did the same.
They got out of the car and Claire loped over to the sidewalk, taking Jack's hand. In his other hand, he carried a paper sack with the bottle of wine he'd brought, some hors d'ouerves Claire had made, as well as a salad. Claire had brought all the gifts over the previous morning.
They stood on the porch for a minute. After their shower, Jack had put on a clean pair of jeans, a clean oxford, and the sweater Claire had given him. Claire wore a pair of fitted black polyester pants and a fitted periwinkle cardigan with a pair of black heeled boots. After a moment, Claire said, "Take a deep breath," and pressed the door buzzer.
Mac opened the door, wearing his characteristic suit with it's little bow-tie.
"Hey kiddo, Merry Christmas" he said as Claire dropped Jack's hand and stepped toward Mac to give him a hug.
She stepped back and said, "Mac...this is Jack."
Mac regarded him skeptically for a moment, then let out a chuckle, stuck his hand out and said, "Come on in, Jack. We've been looking forward to meeting you."
"Thanks, Mac. It's good to meet you. Claire speaks fondly of you."
Claire smiled. They stepped into the foyer and Mac took their coats. Jeannine came out from the kitchen.
"Hi honey!" she said, and rushed to hug her daughter.
"Merry Christmas, Mom."
Jeannine released Claire and walked over to Jack, who was standing next to Mac, still holding the bag with food.
"This must be the famous Mr. McCoy," she said, looking up at Jack.
"I wouldn't say famous," said Jack, surprised to be looking down into Claire's face as it would look in another 25, 30 years Claire's mother was a slightly shorter, older version of Claire.
"Infamous," piped Claire.
"I'm Jeannine," she said, offering Jack her hand.
He shook it and said, "It's a pleasure. I can see where Claire gets her looks."
Jeannine blushed. Mac, while she knew he loved her dearly, was not one for compliments. "Thank you, Jack."
"Flattery gets you everywhere," Mac told him, chuckling again.
Jack had a feeling he and Mac would get along very well.
"Let's go in the kitchen," said Jeannine. "Breakfast is almost ready and my husband's mother is going to thank we've forgotten her."
Claire said in an aside to Jack as they walked toward the kitchen and she took the bag from him, "No one who meets Grandma Geller ever forgets her."
Jack cocked his eyebrow at her.
"You'll see."
In the kitchen, Mac's mother, Violet, was busy scrambling eggs. Jeannine took over for her so she could be introduced to Jack. Even though Claire wasn't her biological grandchild, she had been part of her life long enough that she loved her as if she were.
Violet was a woman in her early 80s. She was of medium height, a little on the heavy side, but had a friendly, pleasant face, marked by the years, and striking green eyes.
Mac took the bag from Claire, and put the food away. Claire told her, "The wine is from Jack."
"Thank you, Jack."
"Ahhh, Claire, how are you, sweetheart?" said Violet, embracing the younger woman tightly.
"I'm fine, Gram. How was your flight?"
"Bumpy my girl, very, very bumpy. I think the pilot was doing a bit of," she tipped an imaginary bottle up to her lips, "before he set foot on the plane."
Claire laughed. "Gram, I want to introduce you to someone."
"I was wondering who this strange man was."
"Gram, this is Jack McCoy. Jack, this is Mac's mother, Violet Geller."
"Your boyfriend?" she whispered to Claire, who nodded.
"It's a pleasure, Mrs. Geller," said Jack, offering his hand, and that wonderful closed lipped smile of his.
"No one has ever called me Mrs. Geller. I'm Violet," she said, firmly shaking his hand in return.
"Violet," said Jack.
"I like him," said the older woman to Claire. "Attractive. A bit on the old side for you, maybe."
Claire gave Jack an incredulous smile. He waved his hand as if to say, "No offence taken."
They sat down for breakfast: eggs, home-made waffles, bacon, fruit, fresh orange juice, and coffee. Jack had been feeling rather uncomfortable about the whole thing (it had been many, many years since he'd met his lover's parents. But then, Claire was more than just his lover), but Claire's family was accepting him wonderfully. He had been worried most about her mother, and from what he was seeing, this woman before him didn't resemble the woman Claire had been so afraid to talk to. Of course, Claire HAD told him that her mother had turned over a new leaf in respect to her daughter, and so he was seeing the new, improved Jeannine Geller. And he knew that Claire was not prone to hyperbole, and knew he could trust her judgment. He breathed a silent sigh of relief that he was meeting her mother now, and not 2 weeks ago.
When breakfast was finished, Jeannine asked Claire to help her clean up. Jack offered to help, but Claire told him he couldn't--she wanted to get her mother's opinion. Violet wanted to help, too, but they sent her out to the living room with the men, who had begun discussing the case against Gordon as they walked out of the kitchen.
Claire and her mother were clearing the table in silence. Claire was just waiting for her mother to start in. It seemed to be going well, but she was still somewhat wary of her mother's reactions.
As they rinsed the dishes and loaded the dishwasher, Claire couldn't take it anymore. She was going to burst if her mother didn't comment soon.
"So?" she asked.
"Hmmm?" replied her mother.
"What do you think?"
"Of?"
"Mom, are you playing with me on purpose?"
"A bit, honey."
"C'mon, Mother."
"I like him, Claire. I see the way he looks at you, and it's obvious he cares for you."
"Do you like him because you like him, or do you like him because he loves me?"
"Does it matter? I see the way you look at him, too, Claire. I don't think you really care for my blessing --that is, if I were to deny it, you would continue to see him. Not that I think you disregard my feelings, but I've never seen you look so happy with someone before."
"You're right, mom, but that doesn't mean I don't want you to like him. If you do, it makes it so much easier on me."
"I like him, Claire. He seems a good man. That I can tell he has deep feelings for you only bolsters my opinion of him. I can't say that I don't still have some reservations, but I think you know what you're doing."
"Mom, he's very good to me. I told you about my birthday presents," she put the towel she was holding down and thrust her wrist out to her mother, "Look what he gave me for Christmas."
Jeannine held her daughter's hand and raised it up to look at the diamond bracelet Jack had given her.
"Wow," said Jeannine. "Do you think you could get Jack to talk to your step-father for me? I didn't get a tennis bracelet from Mac until our 5th anniversary."
"I got a couple of other thinks, too."
"Really? What else?"
"Jack got a picture from the Christmas party of us dancing together, and he had it blown-up and framed. And then he got me a..." here she paused, remembering for a minute that she was talking to her mother, and she didn't want to traumatise her.
"And a.... what?"
"Um... Nevermind."
"Oh, I see," her mother replied.
When they had the kitchen cleaned of the breakfast dishes, and had some of the things for dinner ready, they went out to join the others.
Mac was sitting on an ottoman in front of the fireplace, Violet was in Mac's easy chair, and Jack was sitting at the extreme end of the couch. Claire sat next to Jack, leaning her head back against his arm which was draped along the back of the sofa.
"My sons should be arriving soon," said Mac.
"I'm so glad John and Marry are coming. In Marry's shoes, with such a tiny baby, I may have stayed home," said Claire.
"I'm anxious to see my newest grandchild again," said Mac, "as well as Roger's brood."
"Roger and his wife have four kids between the ages of 5 and 12," Claire told Jack. "And my cousin who'll be here later, she and her husband have a set of 3 year-old twins."
Jack looked a bit uneasy at the thought of so many small children being in the house at once.
"They're all incredibly well behaved," she told him, "And Roger's oldest likes to play little mother to all the younger children."
The five of them continued to talk, and eventually the topic of Christmas gifts came up, and Jeannine made Claire show Mac and his mother her new bracelet.
Violet was duly impressed, and Mac asked, "So, Claire, what did you give Jack?"
"The sweater he's wearing, those scales I was telling you about," she looked over at Jack, and slipped her hand into his where it rested on his thigh, smiled at him, and continued, "And a puppy."
"Puppy?" asked Violet.
Jack said, "It was something I happened to mention to Claire that I'd always wanted, but for one reason or another, I never had one."
"What kind of puppy?" Violet asked.
"He's the most precious little thing," said Claire. "He's a 9 week old black lab, cocker spaniel mix."
"Have you named him, Jack?" Claire's mother asked him.
"Thumper," said Jack.
"Like the rabbit in Bambi," added Claire.
Mac got a good chuckle out of that. "I'm assuming his leg shakes when you rub his stomach?"
"How'd you know?" asked Claire.
Mac's chuckle turned into a guffaw. "It's obvious you've never been around dogs, Claire. Most dogs do that."
Claire's cheeks flushed slightly. "Really?"
Jack added, "I didn't know that either."
Violet sealed it. "I like the name."
"Well, then I'll keep it," said Jack, winking at her.
"I like this one," she said to no one in particular.
A few more minutes passed, and Claire's mom did the unspeakable: she offered to bring out Claire's baby books for Jack to look at.
Claire stood and quickly offered Jack a tour of the house, which he, sensing her embarrassment, accepted post haste.
She took him upstairs, and directly into her old bedroom. Just before opening the door, she said, "You are about to get a glimpse into the adolescent life of Claire Kincaid. My mother has kept this room the way I left it when I moved out to go to college. No snide comments about the stuff on the walls. Or the colour scheme."
With that, she opened the door and flipped on the light. They stepped in, and Claire closed the door behind him.
Jack stifled the urge to chuckle. For some reason, he couldn't imagine Claire as a teenager. He couldn't imagine her ever having been an awkward adolescent riddled with the self-doubt of that age.
"I like it," he told her.
"Liar," she said, moving so she stood directly in front of him. "I don't even like it anymore, and I used to live in here."
"It's not... too...bad," he told her. "I like the poster above your bed, by the way."
"Do you?" she asked, taking a step closer to him and laying her hands on his shoulders.
He dropped his hands to her waist and inclined his head up to the ceiling. "I don't know though," he said, "I myself might have gone with a mirror."
She laughed, low. "You would. But how, pray tell, as a teenager, would I have explained a mirror above my bed to my mother?"
"Ah, yes. I hadn't though about that," he said, his voice growing softer. Claire was so close, looking directly into his eyes, smiling. Everything about her seemed to be smiling today, and it warmed his heart to see her so. He leaned forward and touched his lips to hers softly.
After a moment, he pulled his head back and looked down at her.
Quietly, as she tightened her arms around his neck, she asked, "Are you going to be okay with all of the kids and babies today?"
"I like kids and babies, Claire. I'm not an ogre."
"That's not what I meant... I just thought maybe..."
"I haven't been around very many children. Maggie some, and Paul and Anna's kids, before...well..." his voice trailed off. "But I do like kids."
"Good."
"So...tell me something?"
"Anything."
"Why didn't you want me to see your baby pictures?"
Claire blushed "I haven't been through those books in some time, but I know that I had this habit of running around without a stitch of clothing once I learned to walk until I went off to pre-school and had to learn to keep my clothes on. And my mother had a camera permanently attached to her hand for the first 18 years of my life."
"I've seen you naked plenty of times..."
"But not like that, Jack. Back then, I had chubby thighs, fat rolls, and no hair."
Jack laughed. "I bet you were a beautiful baby."
"I was bald until I was 2 1/2. They used to tape gift-bows to my head."
"Now I'm intrigued."
Jack laughed at Claire's look of consternation, and so she gave Jack a shove, landing him on his butt on her old bed. He reached over, grabbed one of her hands, and pulled her closer to him.
"If you were interested in having sex," he said, gripping her waist, "You didn't need to resort to cave-woman tactics."
"First of all... I never resort to cave-woman tactics," she said, taking a seat on his lap, "And secondly, I've never had sex in my mother's house."
"There's a first time for everything," he said, and she leaned in to kiss him.
Their kiss was getting hotter, hands roaming farther a field, when they heard the chime of the doorbell.
"Oh well," said Claire jovially as she stood, hauling Jack up after her, "I guess today is not the day I get to violate the sanctity of my mother's home."
*****
By one o'clock, the house was alive with Claire's family. When Claire's cousin Michelle and her husband Daniel and their twins finally showed up (Michelle was perennially running behind schedule) all of the children were herded into the living room where all the adults already were for the opening of presents. Chaos ensued as the children made short work of their gifts. Wrapping paper flew everywhere as Michelle and Daniel and Roger and his wife Caitlin attempted to keep track of what their children were getting and from whom.
Jack took all of this in. He was happy that Claire, despite the emotional distance that had existed for so long between she and her mother, had been a part of a family that obviously cared for one another. Mac and his sons were close, that much was obvious. Claire had previously told him that Roger, the elder of the two, was 3 years older than she was, while John was less than a year her junior. Mac's first wife had gone off to 'find herself' after their divorce, leaving Mac to raise his sons. Mac and Jeannine had been lucky: after their marriage, the three children had gotten along much better than most mixed families. Jack remembered Claire telling him that she and John had been particularly close owing to their close age.
Jack was talking to Roger and Claire's uncle when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw John, whom Claire had been conversing with while admiring his new-born, gingerly place the baby into Claire's arms. He had never thought about Claire and motherhood in the same thought before. She had been, in his mind, Claire the lawyer, Claire the lover, Claire the daughter and Claire the friend. Seeing her gazing down at the tiny bundle in her arms changed that. Suddenly, the idea of Claire the wife and Claire the mother stole into his brain, and for the first time in many, many years, the idea of himself as a husband didn't seem so crazy.
"Don't get ahead of yourself, McCoy," he told himself, "You've been together a month..."
Claire sensed herself being watched, and she looked up, her eyes meeting Jack's instantly. They smiled at each other, and Jack wondered if Claire could read his thoughts. In fact, she was wondering if HE could read HERS. Motherhood was not a subject to which she had given much thought: it was something to be thought on in the future. She figured that eventually she would have a child, maybe two, but not for some time. Holding this tiny baby in her arms, for the first time ever, she experienced a physical desire to be a mother. It was a foreign felling for her, and though she still wanted to put it off for a while, the desire was there. She knew it was because for the first time in her 29 years, she was with a man to whom she could imagine herself pledging her life.
Violet, too, had been watching Claire with her newest great-grandchild, and had seen the look exchanged between Jack and Claire. Loud enough that it drew the entire attention of everyone in the room, Violet said to Jack, "So tell me, Jack ... when are you going to take our Claire off our hands and give her one of those of her own to play with?"
"Gram!!!" exclaimed Claire. She was absolutely, positively mortified that Violet had asked that. She looked at Jack. He appeared only slightly uncomfortable and Claire was relieved.
There was an uncomfortable silence in the room for a minute, and then Jeannine gathered her wits, picked her jaw up off the floor, and scolded her mother-in-law. The subject was quickly changed. In light of what they had both been thinking, the change of subject was a relief for Jack and Claire.
*****
At four pm, as Claire had promised, they sat down to dinner. Jeannine had prepared quite a spread: turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, stuffing, rolls, a green bean casserole, a pasta salad, and the green salad Claire had brought. Between the adults, several bottles of wine were consumed.
Dinner was followed by coffee and conversation for the adults, and play time for the children Roger and Caitlin's 10 year old became fascinated by Jack when he overheard Claire' mention something about Jack's motorcycle. After that, Jack had himself a little friend and admirer, who also appreciated Jack's love of fishing.
When dessert could be mentioned without a collective groan from the well fed mass of Claire's family, Jeannine served up the apple and pumpkin pies her sister had brought. Eventually, those members of the family that had commuted in that day had to make their way back to Penn Station for their respective train rides home. Jack and Claire were last to leave. Jack thanked Mac and Jeannine for their hospitality, telling them he couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed Christmas as much as he did this day.
In Claire's car on the way home, it was decided that she would stay the night at Jack's, despite the fact that they had work in the morning, "to help Thumper through the transition to his new home."
*****
They lay entwined in each other much later that night, talking. Thumper was asleep in the makeshift bed they had made for him in the corner of Jack's room.
"I enjoyed your family, Claire," he told her, her head rising and falling on his chest as he spoke.
"I'm glad. Mother likes you."
"For which I am immensely grateful."
"I'd say you were a hit with the whole family. Little Roger sure liked you."
"Were Christmases always like this for you?"
"After mom and Mac married, yes."
"I wish ... I wish I could have known just one Christmas like that when I was a kid."
Claire didn't know what to say, and so they fell silent, feeling each others' warmth, listening to each other breathe. Jack rubbed Claire's shoulder, and she was lightly stroking his side. After a time, they slept, dreaming of each other, and the future they might have together.
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