"Shhhhh..." soothed Jack. "It's alright....you're okay. I've got you. Shhhh, you're safe now." Over and over he repeated these words, and in the back of her frightened mind, Claire wondered if he was saying these things to console her, or himself.
He held her there for several minutes, repeatedly murmuring words of reassurance, rocking slowly back and forth. After a while she pulled back from him a little, and looked up into his concerned and caring eyes.
"I....I ....think I'm okay now," she told him, only half believing it herself.
It was only then that the blood on her face registered in Jack's brain.
"My God, Claire," he said, the light of worry shining brighter in his eyes, "You're bleeding."
"He hit me," she said simply, reaching up to wipe blood away with the back of her hand. "Oh, Jack...I'm sorry...I bled all over your shirt."
Jack looked down at the blood stains on the front of his shirt. He would have offered her a handkerchief, but it was in his jacket pocket upstairs in his office. Instead, he removed his tie and, holding her head in one hand, pressed it to her nose with the other.
She was still shaking, though not as violently as before. "C'mon," she said, attempting a smile as she reached up to hold the tie against her nose herself, "we'd better call Briscoe and Logan and tell them their surveillance isn't worth a damn."
Jack wrapped an arm around Claire, and they headed toward the elevator.
* * * * *
"My God!!" exclaimed Chet when Jack and Claire walked through Jack's office door. "What the hell happened? Were you mugged Claire?"
Jack gently pushed Claire down onto the couch. "Gordon came after her," he told Chet.
"What? How? The man's under surveillance," said Chet.
"Evidently police surveillance isn't what it used to be," said Jack, angry that the police had failed to do their job. He'd come dangerously close to losing Claire thanks to their ineptitude.
"Christ, that man shouldn't be out on the streets," exclaimed Chet. "We have to call and report this."
"Chet, go page Lt. Van Buren, will you?" said Jack. "When she calls back, tell her what happened and have her get Briscoe and Logan over here right away. Tell her to put out an APB. Gordon is armed, and he's gotta be feeling trapped. He could do or try anything."
"Alright," said Chet. "Claire, are you okay? Is there anything I can get you? Anyone you'd like me to call?"
Claire shook her head. "I...I think I'm okay, Chet. A little shaken, but okay."
"Fine...I'll go make that call to Van Buren, now."
When Chet was gone, Jack knealt down on the floor in front of Claire. He placed his hands on her knees. He could feel the silent tremors that still coursed through her body. Bringing one hand up, he rested it against her cheek.
"What can I do?" asked Jack. "Do you want a drink or something?"
"Sure, that'd help a little."
He poured her a glass of scotch from his reserve in the bottom right-hand drawer of his desk. He handed it to her, and knelt back down in front of her.
"So I guess we're gonna pass on the movie, then," said Claire into her glass, chuckling sadly before taking a large gulp.
"Guess so."
"Jack...I don't....this is so....I just," Claire stammered. She was having some trouble coping with what had just happened to her. It all seemed so surreal, now. She felt shell-shocked, or something close to it. If she closed her eyes, she could still see Gordon's menacing sneer, as if he were standing right in front of her. And yet, it seemed as though it had been ages since he attacked her. "Thank God you came Jack."
Chet re-entered the office. "Van Buren's on her way over," he told them, "and Briscoe and Logan will meet her here."
* * * * *
Within 20 minutes, Van Buren and a team of uniform cops showed up, followed quickly by Lennie Briscoe. Mike Logan was a few minutes later.
"Get hung up with Melinda, Mikey?" Lennie teased as Logan approached him in the parking garage. Lennie knew that Mike was supposed to be out on a date at this very moment with a hot little number he'd been trying to get a date with for several weeks. Mike knew Melinda from the juice bar at his gym
"You don't even know, Lennie," said Mike, blowing air out of his puffed up cheeks and shaking his head.
Lennie chuckled. "C'mon Casanova, let's get this area canvassed."
"Where's Van Buren?" asked Mike.
"She's upstairs with the officers taking Claire and McCoy's statements."
"How's Claire doing?"
"I don't know, I haven't had the chance to get up there yet. Let's get the canvass started and we can go up and talk to her."
*****
"And then he ran away," Claire was telling a uniformed policewoman, who was seated on McCoy's couch next to her when Briscoe and Logan entered the office, "That's all I know."
"Okay, I think that's all we need from you two," Van Buren said, glancing from Claire to Jack. She noticed Briscoe and Logan in the doorway. "Detectives."
"Hello Lieutenant," said Logan.
"Mind if we ask you a few more questions, Claire?" asked Lennie, concern evident on his face.
"That's fine," said Claire. Jack nodded in agreement.
"That'll do," said Logan when Jack and Claire had finished recounting the story for them.
"What are you going to do, Detective?" asked Chet.
"We've got officers canvassing the neighbourhood, to see if anyone saw where Gordon went after he ran away," stated Van Buren. "We've placed more units near his mother's residence, and his own. We've got officers watching Penn Station, Grand Central, Port Authority and the airports."
"We're gonna get him, Claire," Logan assured her.
"In the meantime," Van Buren continued, "we're going to put surveillance on your apartment Claire. And just as a precaution, do you have any where else you can stay for a couple of days?"
"I have some friends I..." Claire began, before Jack interrupted her.
"You'll stay at my place," Jack offered. "I've got a spare room."
"Jack, are you sure?" asked Claire. He nodded.
"Well, that's settled," commented Lennie, glad Claire wasn't going to be alone after such an experience.
"I'm going to assign some officers to watch you, Claire," said Van Buren. "They'll do it in shifts. If you need to go out in public, and when you come to work, you'll have an officer to escort you."
"Would it be okay for me to go back to my apartment to get some things? And take my cat to the neighbour's?"
"I don't see why not, as long as you have an escort."
"We're gonna get this scumbag, Claire," said Mike again.
"I'll leave my bike here, Claire, and we can take your car," said Jack, offering his hand to help Claire off the couch. "The officers can follow us. Get all your stuff ready."
Jack turned to Van Buren as Claire went to gather her things. "Keep us posted, Lieutenant."
"We will, McCoy, we will."
* * * * *
Sometime later, Jack and Claire were in the elevator on the way up to his apartment. They had left two police officers down in the lobby of the building.
"Just wanted to warn you, Claire," said Jack. "My apartment's smaller than yours. And considerably more cluttered."
"Cluttered?" she asked.
"Yeah...well...I have a lot of books. And not enough shelf space."
Claire laughed lightly (though not as much as she would have if she were seeing Jack's apartment for the first time under normal circumstances) when Jack opened his apartment door and turned on the light. When Jack told her he had a lot of books, she never suspected his apartment would look like he'd just stolen all the books out of the Library of Congress. She walked in and Jack followed her, laying her garment bag over the back of a chair and setting down her suitcase before turning and bolting the door.
Jack was pleased to note that Claire had apparently calmed down some. She was no longer trembling when he walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She closed her eyes and brought her hands up to rest on his arms, tilting her head back against his chest.
"Claire," Jack sighed, holding her tighter.
She spun round to face him. He kissed her forehead and she wrapped her arms around him, laying her head against his shoulder. He yanked lightly on her scrunchie, and her hair tumbled about her shoulders.
He began to caress her hair, "Claire," he began, voice raw with emotion, "When I saw you in danger...I...I don't know what I would have done if..."
She stopped him from saying more by bringing her finger to his lips.
"Shhhhh. I'm okay Jack," she whispered. "Honestly."
Jack's obvious concern touched her. Though they had been together a very short time, Claire knew with a certainty that she felt more for this man then she had ever felt for any of the other men that had made their way in and out of her life. Standing there, in Jack's arms, feeling safe and protected, she could almost forget what had just happened to her. She was happily surprised at the depth of emotion she was beginning to feel for Jack. Surprised also, because the look on his face told her that his feelings were just as strong.
She felt the tears begin to well in her eyes, and Jack mistook them for fear, as part of the aftermath of her attack. He pulled her tighter, saying, "Shhhh.... you're safe now...I've got you."
"Oh Jack," she said, eyes brimming with tears. She tilted her head back and looked up at him. A few tears sneaked down her cheeks, and he reached up to wipe them away with his thumbs. He resumed holding her, and she stretched up onto her toes to press her lips against his. It was a chaste kiss; lips lightly fluttering against lips.
She pulled away from him after several heartbeats. "Jack...I...I'd like to take a shower, if you don't mind," she said. "I feel like I need to wash that bastard's touch off me."
"Sure, babe," Jack said, understanding. Her sentiments were common for someone who'd just been through an attempted rape. "The bathroom is down the hall to the left. You can use my robe when you're done, if you like. It's hanging on the back of the door."
Claire picked up the little case containing her toiletries, and disappeared down the hall and into the bathroom. She took a long, hot shower, scrubbing her skin hard, even though Gordon hadn't really touched her, except to hit her, and hold her with the knife to her throat. She scrubbed herself until finally she felt clean again. She turned off the water and stepped from the shower, wrapping herself in Jack's heavy velour robe. She smiled slightly because the robe smelled just like Jack. She towelled off her hair and brushed it out.
When she came out of the bathroom, lights were on in both bedrooms. The one directly across the hall was obviously the spare room. Her suitcase was at the foot of the bed, and she could see her garment bag hanging in the closet. She turned and walk toward the room at the end of the hall: Jack's bedroom. He had put on a pair of jeans, and was in the process of slipping into a white T-shirt. Claire stopped and leaned against the doorjamb. When Jack's head emerged from his shirt, he saw her standing there.
"Better?" he asked, moving closer, but stopping a few feet from her.
"Much," she replied, and Jack detected a hint of the more jovial Claire's return.
He smiled at her, and she smiled back. For the first time in several hours, the smile reached her eyes.
"So I'm really sleeping in the guest room, then?" she asked.
"I just assumed you would... I don't know...want some time," Jack told her.
"When you said you had a spare room," she said, "I thought you were just saying it so that Chet and the cops wouldn't suspect that we had....that we're..."
"Together?" Jack offered.
"Yes."
"Claire, I just...didn't want to pressure you. If you need some time to get over what happened before we can be together again, I understand. I can wait. I want you to know that just because I offered to let you stay here, doesn't mean I expect you to sleep with me. I don't ever want you to feel.... obligated.... to give me anything."
Claire closed the distance between them, and took his face in her hands. "Thank you Jack... for everything. For rescuing me, for your concern and affection. It means more than I can say." She kissed him lightly, quickly. "Would it shock you if I said I didn't want to be alone --sleep alone? Tonight of all nights?"
"On the contrary," he replied, taking her in his arms gently, the need to protect and comfort her still running rampant through him. "It'd make me the happiest man alive."
He kissed her, tentatively, yet with great passion. She responded in kind. They kissed for several moments, and Jack felt Claire shiver in his arms.
"You alright, Claire?"
"Fine," she said. "Just a little cold."
"C'mon, I lit the fireplace while you were in the shower."
Taking her by the hand, he led her back into the living room, and sat down with her on the sofa, turning off the light in the spare room on the way. Claire tucked her feet under her and leaned against Jack, who had wrapped an arm around her.
"I've thought about this for a while Claire."
"Thought about what?"
"About sitting here with you, in front of a fire. Even before I knew how you felt about me. I must confess, I imagined I'd get you here the first time under happier circumstances."
"Just concentrate on the fact that I'm here," she said low, lifting her head and kissing the side of his face, "try and forget about the 'why'."
She leaned in to kiss his cheek again, but he turned his head so that she kissed him on the mouth, instead. It was a languid kiss, infused with meaning as each tried to express the depth of feeling they were still too shy to admit to the other. For now, it was simply enough to be together, awash in emotion and in the excitement of new love.
"Want some wine?" Jack asked when they separated.
Claire nodded her head.
"Be right back."
In a short time, Jack returned with a bottle of red wine, glasses, and an opener. While he opened the wine, Claire got up and turned out the light. The fire roaring in the fire place cast a strange yet soothing orange glow about the room. He handed her a glass as she sat down, resting her elbow on his shoulder, holding the glass with the other hand. Jack reached over with his empty hand, and slid it up along her cheek, until his fingers were entwined in her mass of dark hair. Tilting her head a bit, he leaned in for a kiss.
Claire settled down into the couch, turning toward the fire. Jack wrapped his arm around her again, and they each drank their glass of wine in a comfortable silence. When their glasses were empty, Claire reached over to the coffee table and picked up the bottle.
"More?" she asked Jack, who held his glass up for her to fill
"Are you still cold?" Jack asked after taking a large gulp of the wine.
Claire shook her head before taking her own large gulp. "Not any more."
She took the glass from Jack's hand, and set it down with hers on the table. She tucked her feet under her again, and leaned over to draw Jack into another ardent kiss. After a few minutes of prolonged, passionate kissing, Claire drew her head back, and Jack opened his eyes. She stood up, and he moved to follow her, but she pushed him back down onto the couch. Laying her hands on his shoulders, she leaned down and kissed him. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down onto his lap. Their lips never separated..
Jack rested his hands on Claire's hips, and she reached out to rub her palms over his chest, and down over his stomach. Grabbing the bottom of his T-shirt, she began to pull up, and he lifted his arms so she could pull it over his head. She discarded it on the sofa next to them, and reached to stroke his bare shoulders and chest as she kissed the crook of his neck. She stopped suddenly, sitting back away from him for a moment. The concerned look was back on his face, and she guessed Jack thought she was having second thoughts. Looking him square in the eye, she reached down and undid the belt at her waist that kept Jack's robe on her. The robe separated and Jack emitted a sigh of appreciation.
"God, you're beautiful," he whispered, as she reached for his wrists and brought his hands up to her chest. She wrapped her arms around him and sighed with contentment as he buried his face in her neck, searing her skin with a trail of hot, wet kisses.
"Let's go to bed, Jack."
He nodded in agreement, and Claire stood up, pulling Jack up with her. Jack walked backward to his bedroom, slowly, holding Claire in his arms and kissing her all the while. When the backs of his legs hit the bed, he stopped. Claire pushed him into a sitting position on the bed.
"Lie back," she commanded, and Jack complied, content to let her take full charge of their lovemaking if that's what she needed. Claire reached down and undid Jack's fly, then pulled both his jeans and silk boxers off of him. Standing up straight, she shrugged and Jack's robe fell, forgotten, to the floor.
He adjusted himself so that he was laying completely on the bed. Claire laid down next to him, and he attempted to pull her into an embrace, but she pushed him onto his back. Straddling him, she pinned him beneath her and proceeded to cover his body, head to toe, with light, fluttery kisses. He loved the way her still-damp hair felt against his chest as she worked her way down his torso. At his abdomen she stopped, moved down on the bed, and began working her way up from his feet. Claire's touch ignited a fire within him, and he was going mad with desire. He yearned to touch her as she was now touching him. He longed to pull her up to him and put an end to the sweet torture, but every time he made a move to do so, she pushed his hands away.
When she straddled him again, he grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her in such a way that seemed to suck the breath out of both of them.
Claire tore her head away. "Do you have..."
"Nightstand," Jack moaned, anticipating the rest of the question. Claire took charge of this, too.
They both sighed heavily as Claire guided him into her. She didn't move at first, only leaned forward to run her fingers through Jack's hair as she showered his face and lips with numerous passionate kisses. Jack stroked her back and hair until finally neither of them could stand it any longer, and they began to move together. They made love very slowly, tenderly, and with great concern and affection. Towards the end, as their pace grew more frenzied, Claire sat up, leaning back against Jack's knees. Jack let his legs fall to the bed, sat up and began to kiss and caress her breasts. When they had finished, Jack lay back down, pulling Claire down on top of him. He rolled them to their sides, and they smiled languidly at each other as Claire ran her fingertips over Jack's face.
"So beautiful," Jack whispered in praise.
"You're great for my ego, Jack," replied Claire softly, and they both laughed.
"Think it would be a good idea if we slept UNDER the covers?" asked Jack.
"Mmmmmhmmm," sighed Claire. "Probably....but I don't think I can move...don't want to, either."
"Mental note:" said Jack, his mood lightened greatly, "Get under the covers FIRST from now on." They chuckled.
They quieted suddenly. They were just concentrating on the feel of the other, and listening to the other breathe. Jack felt his eyes growing heavy with sleep, and unentwined himself from Claire, saying, "I'll be back in a sec," before kissing her on the head. He got up and went into the bathroom.
When he returned, Claire had gotten under the covers. He got in beside her and lay on his back. She snuggled closer and rested her head on his chest while her hand glided up and down slowly along his side.
"I'm glad you're here, Claire," Jack said into her hair. He could feel it lightly on his lips as he spoke. "Not matter the reason."
It was the last thing either of them said before drifting off into a welcome, and much-needed slumber.
*****
Claire woke up in a sweat, startled. She had been dreaming of Alex Gordon. He was coming after her again. It was the same as it had been so few hours before, in reality. Only this time, when Jack came, Gordon was ready for him. He had a gun, and when Jack started to threaten him, he pulled it out and shot him. In her dream, Claire had stood horrified, watching Jack fall backward in slow motion, the blood from his wound spreading quickly. Gordon shot Jack once more, just to make sure he had killed him. Claire had tried to run at this point, but Gordon had grabbed her, hit her in the back of the head, and knocked her to the ground. He had knealt down and was advancing slowly toward her with he knife when she had woken up in a cold sweat. She was sure she had jolted the bed coming out of her nightmare, but Jack had not woken up.
Breathing heavily, Claire eased herself away from Jack and got up from the bed. Picking his robe up from where she had discarded it earlier, she wrapped herself in it, again noticing how like Jack is smelled. She walked shakily into the living room, and curled herself into Jack's big easy-chair. She sat in silence and it suddenly hit her how close to death, or in the very least, grave physical injury, she had come. If Jack hadn't been worried enough to come looking for her, Gordon would certainly have been able to do with her as he pleased. She felt her heart begin to beat faster. She realised how out of control of her own fate she had been for several moments of her life, and the feeling of fear rushed back only she seemed to feel it more acutely now. It wasn't long before she found herself wracked with silent sobs of fear and frustration.
Jack stirred slightly and reached for Claire. When his arm touched nothing, he opened his eyes: she wasn't there. Puzzled, he raised himself a bit to determine if the bathroom light was on, but it wasn't. He got out of bed and rummaged around on the floor until he located his jeans, which he pulled on, not buttoning all the way, but only enough so that they would stay on with no worry. As he approached his living room, he could hear Claire crying, and it was a sound that tore his heart out.
"Claire?" he said as he entered the room, still bleary-eyed with sleep.
She was curled in a ball in his chair, arms hugging her legs, head down on her knees. She raised her head at the sound of Jack's concerned voice, and wiped her tears on the sleeve of his robe. He knealt before the chair, and set his hands on her thighs. She looked at him, tears still running down her face. The look she gave him helped him to understand what it was she was feeling. She had been extremely scared earlier, had feared for her life, but the implication of it hadn't hit her right away. Her tears were of frustration because she had just been forced to realise that her job could not protect her, that even she was just as susceptible to violent crime as anyone else in Manhattan. She had fought hard her whole life to never be a victim, and Alex Gordon had taken that away from her.
He stood up and pulled Claire into his arms, hugging her, hard. She was still crying when he sat down in the chair, cradling her in his lap like a mother with her infant. Her cries and the shaking of her body were breaking his heart.
"Claire...please," he pleaded, "Let me....I need to...do something."
"Just hold me," she said between sobs.
He did just that, rocking slightly, until she fell asleep in his arms. He eased out of the chair, holding her, and carried her back into his bedroom. Divesting her of his robe, he placed her back in bed, removed his jeans, and climbed in next to her. He wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the scent of her hair, and promised aloud that he would do everything in his power to keep her safe from then on.
In Jack's dream, he and Claire were walking along the beach, arms around each other. The sun was setting, and they walked silently, content to be with each other, watching the sky turn beautiful shades of gold, red, orange and pink. They were alone on this beach, and as they strolled, it seemed to Jack as though a warm breeze was blowing across his face, but when he looked at Claire, her hair wasn't moving, so he guessed he was imagining it.
Eventually, the sun descended completely. This was the time of day Jack loved: when the sun is gone, but the world seems at limbo, trapped somewhere between day and night. Everything seemed so still, and Jack had never felt so at peace. Again the sensation of a warm breeze swept across his face, but he didn't feel it anywhere else on his body.
He stopped walking for a moment, and Claire turned to him. He held her face in his hands, brushed her hair out of her eyes, and whispered, "I love you, Claire."
He heard her say, "I love you, too, Jack," but was a little perplexed because her lips hadn't moved. It was as if she had thought it in her head, and he had heard it. He felt so connected to her at this moment, he wondered if maybe he COULD actually read her mind: it wouldn't surprise him if he could.
Cupping her face again, he leaned in to kiss her. Both sighed as warm lips met warm lips. Claire wrapped her arms around Jack's neck, and he wrapped his around her waist. He leaned back, pulling her off her feet as their lips met again and again and again. Jack felt the passion beginning to well within him, and lifted his face away from Claire's. He opened his eyes to see hers, smiling and bright, gazing back at him.
Breathing heavily, Claire eased herself away from Jack and got up from the bed. Picking his robe up from where she had discarded it earlier, she wrapped herself in it, again noticing how like Jack is smelled. She walked shakily into the living room, and curled herself into Jack's big easy-chair. She sat in silence and it suddenly hit her how close to death, or in the very least, grave physical injury, she had come. If Jack hadn't been worried enough to come looking for her, Gordon would certainly have been able to do with her as he pleased. She felt her heart begin to beat faster. She realised how out of control of her own fate she had been for several moments of her life, and the feeling of fear rushed back only she seemed to feel it more acutely now. It wasn't long before she found herself wracked with silent sobs of fear and frustration.
*****
Jack stirred slightly and reached for Claire. When his arm touched nothing, he opened his eyes: she wasn't there. Puzzled, he raised himself a bit to determine if the bathroom light was on, but it wasn't. He got out of bed and rummaged around on the floor until he located his jeans, which he pulled on, not buttoning all the way, but only enough so that they would stay on with no worry. As he approached his living room, he could hear Claire crying, and it was a sound that tore his heart out.
"Claire?" he said as he entered the room, still bleary-eyed with sleep.
She was curled in a ball in his chair, arms hugging her legs, head down on her knees. She raised her head at the sound of Jack's concerned voice, and wiped her tears on the sleeve of his robe. He knealt before the chair, and set his hands on her thighs. She looked at him, tears still running down her face. The look she gave him helped him to understand what it was she was feeling. She had been extremely scared earlier, had feared for her life, but the implication of it hadn't hit her right away. Her tears were of frustration because she had just been forced to realise that her job could not protect her, that even she was just as susceptible to violent crime as anyone else in Manhattan. She had fought hard her whole life to never be a victim, and Alex Gordon had taken that away from her.
He stood up and pulled Claire into his arms, hugging her, hard. She was still crying when he sat down in the chair, cradling her in his lap like a mother with her infant. Her cries and the shaking of her body were breaking his heart.
"Claire...please," he pleaded, "Let me....I need to...do something."
"Just hold me," she said between sobs.
He did just that, rocking slightly, until she fell asleep in his arms. He eased out of the chair, holding her, and carried her back into his bedroom. Divesting her of his robe, he placed her back in bed, removed his jeans, and climbed in next to her. He wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the scent of her hair, and promised aloud that he would do everything in his power to keep her safe from then on.
*****
In Jack's dream, he and Claire were walking along the beach, arms around each other. The sun was setting, and they walked silently, content to be with each other, watching the sky turn beautiful shades of gold, red, orange and pink. They were alone on this beach, and as they strolled, it seemed to Jack as though a warm breeze was blowing across his face, but when he looked at Claire, her hair wasn't moving, so he guessed he was imagining it.
Eventually, the sun descended completely. This was the time of day Jack loved: when the sun is gone, but the world seems at limbo, trapped somewhere between day and night. Everything seemed so still, and Jack had never felt so at peace. Again the sensation of a warm breeze swept across his face, but he didn't feel it anywhere else on his body.
He stopped walking for a moment, and Claire turned to him. He held her face in his hands, brushed her hair out of her eyes, and whispered, "I love you, Claire."
He heard her say, "I love you, too, Jack," but was a little perplexed because her lips hadn't moved. It was as if she had thought it in her head, and he had heard it. He felt so connected to her at this moment, he wondered if maybe he COULD actually read her mind: it wouldn't surprise him if he could.
Cupping her face again, he leaned in to kiss her. Both sighed as warm lips met warm lips. Claire wrapped her arms around Jack's neck, and he wrapped his around her waist. He leaned back, pulling her off her feet as their lips met again and again and again. Jack felt the passion beginning to well within him, and lifted his face away from Claire's. He opened his eyes to see hers, smiling and bright, gazing back at him.
Again the breeze passed over his face, and he felt an intense yet pleasurable (and familiar) tightening in his stomach. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack noticed that all around them, something was falling. He tilted his head back, as did Claire. Something soft brushed against his face, and in his dream, both he and Claire were laughing as they realised it had begun raining feathers.
The tightening in his stomach increased, and Jack opened his eyes.
When he did so, it took a minute for him to shake the dream from his mind, and another minute to realise that he was in fact awake. From the dim light of the rising sun pouring seeping through the slats of his venetian blinds, Jack could make out his bedroom.
Claire was on top of him, her eyes closed, breathing heavily as she rose up and down, attempting to rouse Jack into consciousness by making love to him. He realised then that the warm breeze he had felt in his dream had been Claire's warm breath against his face. The sensation of the feathers falling on him must have been his mind's compensation for her hair, which had fallen over his visage.
It seemed almost as though she were in some sort of trance, and though he didn't want to break the spell, he wanted to let her know he was awake. He reached up and pushed her hair back, and she opened her eyes, glazed with passion and pleasure.
Jack opened his mouth to speak, but Claire prevented him by leaning down and enveloping his lips in a searing kiss, that took both their breaths away. Jack stroked her long, sleek back, moving his hips in rhythm with Claire's.
His hands continued to explore her body as she dropped her head onto his shoulder. He could hear her hot, heavy breath, ragged in his ear, until she cried out, shuddering her first tiny release. He rolled her over, then, showering her face with gentle, loving kisses, driving her to another, and then another. After a while, Jack could no longer hold himself back, and took his own release, as yet another wave of pleasure wracked Claire's lithe, beautiful body.
Jack collapsed on top of Claire, the strength sapped from his body. They stayed like that for some moments, their warm, slick bodies pressed together, until finally, Jack rolled away from her, pulling her into his strong, caring arms.
It was a long time before their breath and hearts slowed.
"Morning," whispered Jack so softly it was barely more audible than a sigh.
"Hi," replied Claire, just as softly. She was tracing his face with her fingertips, staring deep into his eyes.
He leaned in and kissed her, long, soft, and leisurely, their hands roaming softly over each others bodies. When their lips eased apart, Claire was smiling. Jack rolled to his back, and Claire snuggled closer to him and laid her head against his heart, listening to its slow, rhythmic beating. Her head rose and fell with his chest as he breathed long, deep breaths.
"Claire?" she heard his voice resonate in his chest.
"Hmmm?"
"I know your staying here is only temporary, until they pick-up Gordon." As he spoke, he gently caressed her hair. He kissed the top of her head. "I'm glad you're here, Claire."
Claire lightly ran her hand over Jack's abdomen, rubbing it with soft, feathery strokes. Jack sighed, contented, happy to be sharing his bed with Claire, for whom he cared deeply. Happier still at the thought that they might share much more than that. Jack didn't know what to do with all of the emotion running through him.
Claire's heart was just as full of Jack as his was of her. She knew that her feelings for Jack were stronger than any she'd ever experienced; that was part of why she'd let herself fall so hard so fast. "Is this what it is to truly be in love, then?" she wondered to herself. She hoped so, very much., but in a small portion of her brain, warning sirens were going off, telling her to slow down, take it easy, think everything through. It never failed, whenever thoughts of self-restraint would cross her mind, however briefly, Jack would do something like kiss her neck lightly, or whisper soft praise in her ear, and all conflict was gone. She wanted to be with him, it was that simple.
"Claire....I have to know," Jack said, voice low and serious, "Are you serious about going forward with this...with us? You feel we've been rushing, I know. I don't know any other way to be. You know by now that when there's something I want, I go after it. But what I feel, it's more than that, Claire, I realised it last night." He paused, swallowing. "When you didn't come back to my office right away, and then in the elevator on the way down, I was out of my mind. And when I saw that bast.....I was terrified for you...and at the thought that something like that could so easily take you from me." He paused again, nudging her chin with his finger so that she was looking into his eyes. "I want there to be an "us", Claire. I want to be with you."
"I don't plan on going anywhere, Jack." she said, her clear eyes filling with tears. Jack's words, combined with the passion behind them, had tugged at the strings of her heart.
Claire marvelled at the difference between the Jack that was with her now, and the Jack that was an EADA. This Jack was gentler, more giving, and a hell of a lot less sure of himself than the at-work Jack. This Jack, her Jack, didn't have all the answers, and was just as bewildered by the strength of his feelings for her as she was by her feelings for him.
Here, there was no hierarchical distinction between them: they were not EADA and ADA, nor were they mentor and protege, but equals, lovers. Their work relationship was one of mutual respect, admiration, and trust. Neither of them would have given up the working relationship for all the world, for it, combined with strong physical and mental attraction, had laid the foundation for the personal relationship they were building together.
Claire stretched up to look into Jack's eyes, and said, "There's no place on earth I'd rather be right now Jack, than here with you."
Jack smiled hugely and closed his arms tightly about her.
Much later, they stood in Jack's shower. Claire's fingers firmly massaged Jack's scalp with shampoo as he scrubbed her back with a soapy wash cloth. Jack had already washed Claire's hair, which she had then mysteriously pinned up for the remainder of the shower.
Jack tilted his head back and Claire, stretching to her toes to compensate for their height difference, rinsed the suds from his hair. When she had conditioned it, she slicked his hair back. Jack brought the cloth to her front and ran it over her neck, shoulders, arms, chest and abdomen. Claire picked up the bar of soap and proceeded to soap Jack's chest and shoulders.
"I still can't get over the fact that you use Ivory," she told him., voice light and happy. Whatever might await her beyond Jack's apartment door, here at least, she felt happy, and safe.
"Why?" he asked, "What've you got against Ivory?
"Nothing. I used to use it --my mother used to buy it for me -- when I was younger. Takes me back," she replied breathing in the clean scent deeply. "I always thought it smelled so....clean....so young, and fresh. It's a smell I always associated with being pure and virginal....which I am no longer." She finished with a whimsical sigh.
"I've got news for you, Claire," Jack told her, pressing her against the tiled wall with his soapy body, "You're not that sullied."
"You say that as if you've got plans to sully me," she teased.
"Nothing concrete," he countered, "Not yet, anyhow."
The next few moments were spent in a fiery embrace.
"C'mon Jack," Claire laughed, pushing him away from her, "Let's rinse and get out. I'm starved, and if you don't feed me soon, you're going to have to explain my shriveled corpse to the intrepid bodyguards downstairs in your lobby."
"We wouldn't want that, now, would we?"
"Heaven's no."
The tightening in his stomach increased, and Jack opened his eyes.
When he did so, it took a minute for him to shake the dream from his mind, and another minute to realise that he was in fact awake. From the dim light of the rising sun pouring seeping through the slats of his venetian blinds, Jack could make out his bedroom.
Claire was on top of him, her eyes closed, breathing heavily as she rose up and down, attempting to rouse Jack into consciousness by making love to him. He realised then that the warm breeze he had felt in his dream had been Claire's warm breath against his face. The sensation of the feathers falling on him must have been his mind's compensation for her hair, which had fallen over his visage.
It seemed almost as though she were in some sort of trance, and though he didn't want to break the spell, he wanted to let her know he was awake. He reached up and pushed her hair back, and she opened her eyes, glazed with passion and pleasure.
Jack opened his mouth to speak, but Claire prevented him by leaning down and enveloping his lips in a searing kiss, that took both their breaths away. Jack stroked her long, sleek back, moving his hips in rhythm with Claire's.
His hands continued to explore her body as she dropped her head onto his shoulder. He could hear her hot, heavy breath, ragged in his ear, until she cried out, shuddering her first tiny release. He rolled her over, then, showering her face with gentle, loving kisses, driving her to another, and then another. After a while, Jack could no longer hold himself back, and took his own release, as yet another wave of pleasure wracked Claire's lithe, beautiful body.
Jack collapsed on top of Claire, the strength sapped from his body. They stayed like that for some moments, their warm, slick bodies pressed together, until finally, Jack rolled away from her, pulling her into his strong, caring arms.
It was a long time before their breath and hearts slowed.
"Morning," whispered Jack so softly it was barely more audible than a sigh.
"Hi," replied Claire, just as softly. She was tracing his face with her fingertips, staring deep into his eyes.
He leaned in and kissed her, long, soft, and leisurely, their hands roaming softly over each others bodies. When their lips eased apart, Claire was smiling. Jack rolled to his back, and Claire snuggled closer to him and laid her head against his heart, listening to its slow, rhythmic beating. Her head rose and fell with his chest as he breathed long, deep breaths.
"Claire?" she heard his voice resonate in his chest.
"Hmmm?"
"I know your staying here is only temporary, until they pick-up Gordon." As he spoke, he gently caressed her hair. He kissed the top of her head. "I'm glad you're here, Claire."
Claire lightly ran her hand over Jack's abdomen, rubbing it with soft, feathery strokes. Jack sighed, contented, happy to be sharing his bed with Claire, for whom he cared deeply. Happier still at the thought that they might share much more than that. Jack didn't know what to do with all of the emotion running through him.
Claire's heart was just as full of Jack as his was of her. She knew that her feelings for Jack were stronger than any she'd ever experienced; that was part of why she'd let herself fall so hard so fast. "Is this what it is to truly be in love, then?" she wondered to herself. She hoped so, very much., but in a small portion of her brain, warning sirens were going off, telling her to slow down, take it easy, think everything through. It never failed, whenever thoughts of self-restraint would cross her mind, however briefly, Jack would do something like kiss her neck lightly, or whisper soft praise in her ear, and all conflict was gone. She wanted to be with him, it was that simple.
"Claire....I have to know," Jack said, voice low and serious, "Are you serious about going forward with this...with us? You feel we've been rushing, I know. I don't know any other way to be. You know by now that when there's something I want, I go after it. But what I feel, it's more than that, Claire, I realised it last night." He paused, swallowing. "When you didn't come back to my office right away, and then in the elevator on the way down, I was out of my mind. And when I saw that bast.....I was terrified for you...and at the thought that something like that could so easily take you from me." He paused again, nudging her chin with his finger so that she was looking into his eyes. "I want there to be an "us", Claire. I want to be with you."
"I don't plan on going anywhere, Jack." she said, her clear eyes filling with tears. Jack's words, combined with the passion behind them, had tugged at the strings of her heart.
Claire marvelled at the difference between the Jack that was with her now, and the Jack that was an EADA. This Jack was gentler, more giving, and a hell of a lot less sure of himself than the at-work Jack. This Jack, her Jack, didn't have all the answers, and was just as bewildered by the strength of his feelings for her as she was by her feelings for him.
Here, there was no hierarchical distinction between them: they were not EADA and ADA, nor were they mentor and protege, but equals, lovers. Their work relationship was one of mutual respect, admiration, and trust. Neither of them would have given up the working relationship for all the world, for it, combined with strong physical and mental attraction, had laid the foundation for the personal relationship they were building together.
Claire stretched up to look into Jack's eyes, and said, "There's no place on earth I'd rather be right now Jack, than here with you."
Jack smiled hugely and closed his arms tightly about her.
*****
Much later, they stood in Jack's shower. Claire's fingers firmly massaged Jack's scalp with shampoo as he scrubbed her back with a soapy wash cloth. Jack had already washed Claire's hair, which she had then mysteriously pinned up for the remainder of the shower.
Jack tilted his head back and Claire, stretching to her toes to compensate for their height difference, rinsed the suds from his hair. When she had conditioned it, she slicked his hair back. Jack brought the cloth to her front and ran it over her neck, shoulders, arms, chest and abdomen. Claire picked up the bar of soap and proceeded to soap Jack's chest and shoulders.
"I still can't get over the fact that you use Ivory," she told him., voice light and happy. Whatever might await her beyond Jack's apartment door, here at least, she felt happy, and safe.
"Why?" he asked, "What've you got against Ivory?
"Nothing. I used to use it --my mother used to buy it for me -- when I was younger. Takes me back," she replied breathing in the clean scent deeply. "I always thought it smelled so....clean....so young, and fresh. It's a smell I always associated with being pure and virginal....which I am no longer." She finished with a whimsical sigh.
"I've got news for you, Claire," Jack told her, pressing her against the tiled wall with his soapy body, "You're not that sullied."
"You say that as if you've got plans to sully me," she teased.
"Nothing concrete," he countered, "Not yet, anyhow."
The next few moments were spent in a fiery embrace.
"C'mon Jack," Claire laughed, pushing him away from her, "Let's rinse and get out. I'm starved, and if you don't feed me soon, you're going to have to explain my shriveled corpse to the intrepid bodyguards downstairs in your lobby."
"We wouldn't want that, now, would we?"
"Heaven's no."
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