Jackfic Archive Story

 

Jack's Delicious Surprise

by Su Freund

Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author(s).


Title: Jack's Delicious Surprise

Author: Su Freund

Email: su_freund@ficwithfins.com

Website: https://www.ficwithfins.com/

Category: Angst, romance

Content Level: Age 13+ An Adult Only version of this story can be found on my site here: https://www.ficwithfins.com/AA3_1/archive/2/jacksdelicious2.html

Content Warnings: Use of mild language and sexual situations. To use and slightly alter a dinkydow fic warning, this story contains gratuitous mention of dripping medals, and dress uniforms.

Pairings: Jack/Other (Catherine)

Season: 8

Spoilers: Nothing specific but general for S8

Summary: When Catherine asks Jack to pose for a portrait painting, he has no idea what he is letting himself in for

Sequel/Series Info: Sequel to "Jack's Lucky Night" and "Go, Jack Go"

Status: Series but this story is complete

Copyright (c) 2006 Su Freund

Author's Note: 1. This story fulfils the terms of fic challenge 42 on the As The Stargate Turns Yahoo Group (issued on 5 June) to use the phrase 'Delicious surprise' and/or the word 'grind'. This fiction uses both. Thanks to SA for her fic title inspiration from the fic challenge.

2. Also many thanks to Lynette Minucos (Flatkatsi) for reading it over and pointing out a couple of foolish errors. Nevertheless, any errors remaining are entirely my own! This story is dedicated to Lynette for inspiring me with her fantasies of dripping medals and Class A uniforms, and for all her continuing invaluable help and advice on a Jackfic I am attempting to write.

Jack's Delicious Surprise

"When you said you wanted to paint my portrait you didn't say anything about me being butt naked!" Jack whined complainingly as Catherine explained exactly what she wanted him to do. She smirked at him winningly.

"So if I stand here butt naked while you are, would that make you feel any better about it?" she asked.

"Might," Jack replied with a quirky pout and was dumbfounded when she immediately stripped off her clothing and stood there before him in all her tantalising glory. "That is if I can keep my hands off you," he added in a hoarse whisper.

"Well, let's just say you will be amply rewarded for your efforts Jack," she grinned and winked.

Jack had been flattered when she'd asked if he would sit for a portrait painting and thought it would be really interesting to watch her at work. Flattered because she had complimented him on his "wonderful prominently chiselled cheekbones, mesmerising dark eyes and the lips that were full of so much promise", and that was nothing compared to what she said about his arms, chest, hands, and the rest of his body. Interested because, well, he was interested in almost anything to do with Catherine and he'd never had the opportunity to watch her at work.

He so hadn't expected her to want to paint him in the nude, despite her rather gratifying description of how she viewed his naked body. The woman sure knew how to feed a guy's ego and Jack wasn't complaining, far from it. He very much liked that she found him attractive, sexy, alluring and sensual; he felt the same way about her but she was still young enough to be fit, firm - and beautiful - whereas, these days, he had to work much harder to keep himself that way.

So, when she asked him to pose, he made a few comments about the grey hair, which she insisted was one of his many attractions, asserting that he would be a superb subject to paint because he had so much character. Nice one Catherine! At that rate he'd be surprised if he could manage to fit his swollen head through the door on the way out.

"I'm so gonna hold you to that implied promise," he commented in response to her veiled assurance of a sexual reward.

"I don't think I'll need reminding to keep that promise. And, by the way, you aren't naked."

"As good as. Jeez, Catherine, all the important parts are exposed aren't they?"

He was right about that; his entire bottom half was bare, but his top half wasn't, or not totally. When Catherine had asked him to arrive dressed in his Class As, he'd hoped she would rip them off as soon as he walked in the door, which had been another implied promise made at another time. Although she'd greeted him with a wild and passionate kiss, the anticipated sex hadn't been forthcoming and when she explained how she wanted him to pose, he had been surprised but amused by the notion.

After discussing the hot water he would probably find he was up to his neck in if this portrait was ever displayed openly, they both agreed that a General in the USAF probably shouldn't be caught with his trousers down in public and the portrait was strictly for Catherine's personal use. And Jack's trousers down was almost exactly what the portrait would depict. On the top, he wore the jacket of his dress blues with his shirt unbuttoned, exposing his chest, and his tie slung loosely around his neck. On the bottom he wore absolutely nothing, although the pose she wanted didn't actually include displaying his private parts on canvas.

So this was how he came to be sitting in her studio for hours, stripped almost naked and cautioned to stay as motionless as possible for long periods. Jack O'Neill stay motionless? The woman didn't know what she was asking. Nevertheless, he did it and watched in rapt fascination as she worked, concentrating on translating what she saw as his likeness onto canvas.

Aw shucks, he had to face it, the woman could twist him around her little finger!

Initially, Catherine had pondered what medium she should use to capture Jack and had decided on oils. Although Jack knew very little about the various artistic methods, he understood from what she told him that this might be time consuming.

He was so looking forward to seeing the final outcome of her work because he would see him through her eyes and that might be very illuminating. Catherine had warned him that she wouldn't let him peek until it was completed, which would probably take a few sittings, and he was happy to oblige. This meant they would spend a lot of time together and that suited Jack fine as he very much liked her company. Catherine was so unlike anyone he'd ever had any relationship with before and he happily basked in the thrill that gave him.

"How the hell do you stand there for so long doing that?" he asked.

"It helps to have a hunk like you as a subject." She grinned and winked.

"Ack, flatterer! If you say so, I'm not arguing," he responded with a huge beam on his face.

"I never could resist the allure of a uniform dripping with medals," she said and Jack couldn't determine if she was teasing or not, but was amused. "It helps when it's topped with that rugged and handsome face, and I have intimate knowledge of what lies beneath." She wiggled her eyebrows. Definitely teasing. "As for that smile, it's so hot I could get sunburn from here. I'd so like to capture that smile, Jack."

Chuckling with delight, Jack's huge beam expanded and Catherine had a sudden urge to get up close and personal with the man. She had managed to suppress that recurrent urge so she could work, but it was kind of hard to stare at a gorgeous chunk of man like Jack O'Neill all day and not get hot under her non existent collar, particularly in that sexy pose, semi-attired in that sexy uniform, which was adorned with a whole Air Force worth of sexy medals. It was time to come out from behind her easel.

"Well I can't sit with a big grin on my face all day," Jack retorted.

"You don't need to. Okay, I've got the basics down; I need to get into the detail. Want to call it a day? I have a promise to keep," she said with a glint in her eye. Jack was up so quick that the words had barely left her lips. He stretched to limber up his body a little.

"Gee I hope I'm up to helping you keep that promise after all the sitting around."

"You're a General in the United States Air Force; you should be used to sitting on your glorified butt all day," she responded playfully.

"Ouch! That was sharp," he retorted with a chuckle, followed by an amused smirk.

"Besides, I don't plan on letting you do much of the work."

"Really? I like the sound of that," he said, approaching and grasping her hips.

The quirky smile on his face was just so appealing, and Catherine was keen to slake her sudden thirst for the sensual and sexy General Jack O'Neill. Moving away to look him up and down she noticed his fears of not being up to it were unfounded and her desire increased.

"Then come with me, flyboy," she said and, once her back was turned, Jack grabbed her and pulled her close, snaking one arm around her waist while the other moved her long hair away from her neck so he could nuzzle it.

"Not so fast lady," he said, biting her shoulder.

"I'm feeling horny. All that rampant testosterone is driving me wild." She reached behind her, grasping his butt and Jack gasped.

"You think I'm not horny? Have been since I walked through the door. But I'm a patient man."

"You? Patient? Pah! I can feel you're horny, hunk. Let's go flyboy!"

"Shouldn't we get washed up? You've got paint..." He picked some of it from her hair and then gently let her go.

"Does it matter?" she said with a smile, taking his hand and pulling him towards the bedroom he was beginning to know intimately. "Later, Jack. We'll have a bath together." He liked that idea, "For what I've got in mind we're perfect."

"Um, okay... whatever," he replied, waving his free arm in the air carelessly.

As they crossed the threshold she loosed his hand. "You lie down and don't you dare take off that jacket! I'll be with you in a few moments," she said, kissing him briefly on the lips before turning and walking over to her dresser.

As she rummaged around in a drawer, wiggling her naked butt at Jack provocatively, which made him smirk in a self-satisfied kind of way, he wondered what she had in mind. She knelt beside him on the bed with a big grin on her face and waving a couple of long scarves at him.

"Thought it might be a bit of fun, Jack," she leered.

"And you're planning to do what exactly?" he enquired, guessing that she wanted to tie him to the bed with them and feeling slightly horrified by the notion. When she saw his obvious revulsion her grin turned to a frown.

"I-I... oh! I'm so sorry," she hastened to say, "I figured it was just a game. Jack?"

He said nothing and she searched his face for a clue. Jack's heart was pumping crazily. He had been captured, imprisoned or restrained so many times in his working life that he wasn't sure he could consider being tied down and helpless as fun. All enthusiasm for the anticipated lovemaking had disappeared in an instant, and it showed.

"Jack, forget it. It doesn't matter. We can have some different fun." She was clearly mortified, wondering what he was thinking.

"It might be fun," he ventured, his voice a croak and thinking that this was something he should fight to overcome because that was true. It might be fun with Catherine and not at all the same as any of his previous experiences with restraints. He reached for her wrist, grasping it gently. "Catherine, I've had some bad experiences in my life is all."

"Oh my god, Jack, I'm so sorry. Surely you know I would never do anything to hurt you." she regarded him with a frown, "Bad experiences? PoW?" she asked tentatively, unsure how much he would reveal but wanting to know more if he would tell her.

Jack was thinking that he could never reveal the half of it but he had been a PoW, kinda, so a small white lie couldn't hurt. PoW was a slight stretch because the Iraqis had held him as a spy. They had never known the half of it either! He was lucky not to have ended up shot or even more nastily killed while in captivity. On the other hand, he could probably count some other occasions that he'd been imprisoned as being a PoW so at least he didn't have to lie.

"Yeah," he confirmed without embellishment.

"Where? Iraq?"

"Right." His monosyllabic response gave very little away and Catherine lay the scarves down and bent over to kiss him tenderly.

"Pretty bad, huh?" she probed gently.

"I never talk about it Catherine but, in a nutshell, yes."

She was pleased he revealed even that much. They were both so protective of their privacy that she wondered how they ever found anything to talk about, but there was something about this man that made her want to get to know him better, and let him know her a little better too.

"I was married once," she confessed, much to Jack's surprise. "He was a total bastard and beat the crap out of me. It isn't just the poor who get battered, you know."

Jack's concern for his own feelings evaporated in an instant to be replaced by concern and sympathy for her.

"God, Catherine, I'm so sorry. C'mere," he said, urging her into his now open arms. She snuggled down next to him and took some comfort from his embrace.

"It was a long time ago but sometimes it seems like yesterday. He was supposed to be the perfect match. Charming, good looking, going places and from a wealthy family: old money. My parents loved him. Thought he was the most wonderful man in the universe. I never told them about what happened. They thought I was a mad woman when I eventually walked out, or maybe I should say crawled out. It caused a lot of trouble. I don't think they have ever forgiven me for it. And I've never forgiven them for not noticing or for taking his side." Jack stroked her soothingly, angry on her behalf.

"That's why you're estranged?" he asked, hopeful of a reply while she was open to revelations.

"Part of it."

He kissed her forehead with huge affection, wanting to kiss it all better but knowing he never could. Catherine would probably never fully recover from such an experience and it explained some things about her, but seemed to contradict others. Instead of getting to know her, sometimes he thought she became more of an enigma. Jack didn't realise that Catherine thought exactly the same thing about him.

She didn't behave like a woman who'd been a battered wife. He imagined someone mousy and cowed, lacking self-esteem and confidence. Catherine was none of those things. Maybe one day he'd ask her about that, but today probably wasn't the day. Not expecting her to reveal more, he decided that her disclosure deserved one from him to equal it.

"I was a prisoner in Iraq for 4 months. It was a hellhole and I was tortured. It was a crap 4 months." That was the understatement of the century but much to his surprise Jack found he could relate this in an unemotional way when he hadn't thought that possible, even now. "The Geneva Convention was pretty much thrown out of the window. I tried to believe I would make it out alive and get back to my wife; it was thinking about getting back to Sara that kept me alive, and partly sane too. I'd picture her face, her smile... Sometimes I thought I would lose my mind, lose control, die. Sometimes I almost wished I would die because that would be better than more pain and humiliation." He paused, "I guess that just about covers it." A small smile appeared on his lips and they caught each other's eyes and held that gaze.

"I can't imagine what that must have been like."

"After what you told me, I think you can imagine some of it, though not all of it. Believe me, you wouldn't even want to."

"Probably not. So we're both damaged goods, huh? There's a kind of symmetry in that. I like it." She smiled and Jack grinned back.

"I guess it is sort of symmetrical."

She kissed him so softly and sweetly that he melted into her, his heart fluttering with pleasure, and then they cuddled in silence for a long time, both feeling ludicrously contented given recent disclosures.

"What exactly did you have in mind, with the scarves I mean?" he asked eventually.

"I just want to seduce you without you being able to do a damned thing to stop whatever I do to you. I want to take control. No S&M, or anything like that, just a bit of fun. Like I said, I didn't want to hurt you."

"Do it," he said.

"Really? Jack, if you have any doubts..."

"No. Do it. I trust you."

"Somehow I think that was one heck of a compliment."

Jack merely gave her one of his crooked smiles and she gently took each wrist, and tied a scarf around it and then to the bed head, careful not to make the bonds too tight or restrictive and leave him some freedom to move.

"So, you're leaving my legs free?" he asked with a smirk.

"You think I shouldn't?"

"I can do a lot with these legs."

"So I noticed," she tittered. "I think I might leave them free to do whatever stuff they do."

"So not total control then?"

"I'm not a freak!" she exclaimed with a laugh.

"This jacket is so gonna be ruined."

"Promise I'll uncrumple it for you. It'll look like new."

"Okay, lady, then do your stuff," he urged.

"Um..." she ventured tentatively, her voice filled with uncertainty, "What do you think about being blindfolded, Jack?"

"Blindfolded?" he gulped, "I'm not sure."

"I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. God, this is supposed to be fun, not a chore. But I thought, well, it might add a little something if you can't see what I'm doing to you. More... tantalising." She bit her bottom lip with concern.

"It might at that," he considered, "Kiss me Catherine."

She smiled sweetly and softly pressed her lips to his, following that by licking around them and urging him to open his mouth. Her tongue entered cautiously and she gently grasped his face, running it around his teeth and gums and over the taste buds of his tongue while her thumb caressed his cheek. He closed his eyes and moaned quietly as she explored every crevice and then hit back, forcefully fighting her tongue for space and thrusting his into her mouth. It was a while before she drew back for air and he smiled as her eyes met his.

"Okay, blindfold me," he said.

"If you want me to stop at any point, just say the word, Jack."

"I don't want to spoil this. You're right, it should be fun, so just go for it," he encouraged and she grinned, sitting astride his hips, pulling his tie from where it hung loosely around his neck and placing it around his eyes. "My tie?" he queried with a slight grin that belied the undercurrent of uneasiness that made his stomach flip and his heart rate soar.

"You have no idea how much that uniform turns me on," she commented.

"I kinda hoped you were gonna rip it off when I walked in the door," he said with a pout.

"Another time flyboy."

"I think I'd like that."

"So would I." Jack heard a low throaty chuckle in her voice and smiled. He loved Catherine's laughter in any shape or form. It was sexy and intoxicating, soothing him right when he needed it and, boy, he needed it now. His roiling gut calmed and he remained doggedly determined to see through this sexual adventure and test his mettle.

His underlying anxiety, however, was enhanced when he felt her move away and the weight shift from the bed. She'd got up. He was struck by a slight feeling of panic that she might leave him alone, tied up and helpless.

"Whatchya doin'?" he asked, attempting to keep his voice even and calm. 'Damn it, O'Neill don't be such a jerk,' he thought, 'You're a grown man, for crying out loud, a General in the Air Force, highly decorated, supposedly fearless. Sheesh, what a wimp!'

"Won't be a moment. I'm just getting something," she replied in a reassuring tone.

"Like?" he queried, trying to quell his nervous tension.

"Don't worry Jack, I've just had an idea is all. You'll enjoy it, I promise. Trust me?"

"Sure," he gurgled, the edgy catch in his throat giving him away. His acute ears picked up the soft padding sound as she returned, and the springs of the bed tilted when she rejoined him.

"I would never hurt you," she reiterated. Anxious to ease his disquiet and ensure Jack enjoyed the fantasy, Catherine straddled his hips, softly pressing her lips to his and showering him with gentle pecks along his jaw line and down over neck. The swell of her breast brushed against his partly exposed flesh, her long, dark hair tickling his chest, and he shivered with expectation, desire, and a smattering of apprehension.

A gentle whisper of a touch brushed his face and neck, taking him by surprise. The contact was way too soft even for the lightest of caresses by her fingertips. Whatever it was felt good as she smoothed it over his skin, moving from his neck down his chest. Catherine pulled his jacket open more to maximise her access to his flesh and Jack grinned the sound of a sigh and quickening breath as she did so, a finger smoothing over his skin followed by a small kiss it.

"All those medals," she whispered, "so, so sexy." His grin broadened and then he felt the same light touch as before dancing delicately over his torso. Sooo not her fingers. He had to know what it was she was using to drive him crazy with desire.

"What is that?" he asked.

"You like it?" she asked, brushing over more of his chest and settling to stroke a nipple. He didn't respond in words, merely grunting quietly as she teased. Catherine smiled. Yes, he liked it all right, and she sighed in a self-satisfied kind of way before finally answering his question. "It's a feather."

"A feather? It's extremely, um, erotic," he commented, thinking that was probably an understatement.

"I hoped it might be," she replied and Jack thought he could almost hear the huge smirk on her face, conjuring the vision to his mind. He smiled, his disquiet fading at last. A feather? The notion was appealing. Many times he had noticed the vase full of feathers that formed part of her bedroom's eclectic dcor, enjoying the ingenuity of such a simple display. The feather's touch felt real good.

Catherine continued to tease with it for the longest time and Jack was surprised by the sensations it provoked as it tickled his flesh in a sensual and pleasing way, raising goose bumps on the surface of his firm, tanned skin. Briefly, she paused to grasp the muscles of one of his arms, squeezing gently before bending to kiss his collarbone, and then continuing to stroke him with the feather.

Her one regret about telling him to leave the jacket on was that she could not kiss and caress those muscular arms she loved so much, but the jacket was a turn on in its own right and one can't have everything, right? God, he looked so sexy lying there at her mercy, and the uniform added a certain amount of piquancy to the occasion.

She sighed longingly, starting to move her hips, and the slow grind of her body against his served to amplify his need, making him gasp and groan, and quickening his heart.

Having caressed what Jack believed was probably every inch of his chest, she trailed the feather down to his stomach, sliding gracefully down his legs to span his lower thighs. The touch of the feather as it explored his stomach, dusting over his belly button and around his waist, made Jack gasp with pleasure. Deliberately, Catherine taunted him with it for a while before gliding it further down his body.

The feather made for a delightful and playful seduction and Jack realised the eroticism and sensuality was enhanced by his blindness, that inability to see what she was doing augmenting his other senses. Each touch made him quiver with increasing hunger and need. The exquisite torture was an unexpected surprise and Catherine drew out her seductive tease for a long time. The feather, her skilful mouth and fingers, were incredibly arousing, driving him inexorably closer to the edge of reason.

When the sexual act itself finally occurred, they were entranced, enchanted and exhausted by it and its outcome. After it was over, Catherine collapsed down onto his chest, her long hair fanning out over his hot, damp skin, her warm lips puckering to kiss the throbbing, sweaty flesh.

"Wow!" she exclaimed, happily, "that was something else."

"That was freakin' amazing," he agreed.

Catharine lay perfectly still for a while, breathing in his manly scent before pushing herself up and reaching to remove the tie from his eyes, kissing him softly on the lips, and smiling.

"I missed those gorgeous eyes, Jack," she whispered, "they're so..." she paused, search for the right words, "soulful, deep, dark and talkative."

"They are? Talkative? Not sure I like the sound of that. What do they say?" he probed.

"Lots of things."

"Uh huh? Like?"

"Like lots of things."

He chuckled, the urge to hold her close irresistible and his inability to do so frustrating.

"Wanna hug?" he asked, waving his arms in the air as much as the scarves tied around his wrists would allow. Grinning broadly, Catherine's hands moved to loosen his bonds, pausing to gently rub his wrist, and then untying a scarf and pulling his palm to her lips.

"Thank you," she said.

"Thank me? For what? You did all the work. It's me who should be doing the thanking here."

"Thank you for trusting me, for letting me, for enjoying it so very much."

A faint and crooked smile appeared on his lips and his freed hand softly brushed her cheek, resting there and smoothing her face. His mesmerising gaze pulled her in and she was unable to break eye contact, not even wanting to.

"Other hand?"

"Oh, sure!" she exclaimed, prompted to pull her eyes away at last. Once both hands were free to do as they pleased, Jack grasped her in his arms and pulled her into a hug, gently manoeuvring her body to place her by his side, and lying with his forehead touching hers and arms enfolding her.

"You are so beautiful, so special," he declared, absorbed by her. "Still don't get what you see in an old guy like me."

"I think that's part of the attraction, that you don't get it," she replied, smiling softly and kissing the tip of his nose affectionately. "You're not old Jack, just older. And I'm older than I look."

"I kind of figured that," he replied, resisting the temptation to ask. One shouldn't ask, but wait for a woman to volunteer such information. He didn't care much how old she was anyway. All he cared about was she wanted him, enjoying his company as he did hers.

"Sit up and I'll take that jacket off," she suggested, so he did and she eased it off, along with his open shirt, taking her time and smirking smugly. Examining the Jacket as it lay in her arms, and then kissing the medals that adorned it, mouthing the words "my hero" at Jack, and winking teasingly, then she simply tossed the jacket and shirt on the floor carelessly.

"Hey!" he admonished with a frown.

"I don't think they're gonna get any worse down there than they did while we were making love, Jack."

"Sheesh, I guess so. You promised you'd uncrumple the jacket, right?"

"And I will. But in the meantime, let me at those naked arms and muscles!"

Jack laughed as she dived on him, pushing him back down onto the bed, kissing along one arm and squeezing his biceps. This woman was good for him, for his ego, his love life, and for the loneliness he'd been feeling before they met. She'd come into his life at exactly the right time and he was happier now than he had been for what seemed like eons. After her rabid arm attack, she settled down onto the bed and pulled him into her arms, which he reciprocated by enfolding her in his.

"First time I've ever been seduced by a feather," he commented, sighing contentedly and caressing her back tenderly. Catherine felt a great deal of warmth and caring in that movement of his fingers and her heart flipped with pleasure. She really, really liked this man - a lot!

"First time I've ever seduced anyone with a feather," she confessed.

"Oh? Seemed to me you'd had years of experience."

"Flatterer," she replied with a chuckle, fingers reaching up to his face and smoothing his cheek.

"No, it was a delicious surprise. Extraordinary. Different. It..." he tailed off, lost for words. "I'm not the greatest wordsmith in the world, Catherine, you probably noticed that." She smiled a response. "I-I... sometimes I wish I was. Words, or lack of them, bring me a whole heap of trouble."

"You do okay, flyboy."

"I just... crap!"

"You don't have to say anything Jack. You have talkative eyes, remember?"

"Not sure I'm happy that they can talk while I can't."

"You worry too much."

"That's me. Natural born worrier," he said with a smile but she saw from those talkative eyes that he was troubled. Easing his grasp of her, he pulled away and lay flat on his back, his eyes fixed on her ceiling. Catherine wondered what was going through that complex brain of Jack's - sure she'd noticed that he tried to seem simple but was far from that. She didn't know whether to tackle whatever was bugging him head on or leave it be, for now. Propping herself up on one elbow, she stroked his chest with her fingers, leaning down to kiss a cheek.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Yeahsureyabetchya," he replied, glancing at her briefly and then turning his eyes towards the ceiling once more. There was something about his expression and posture that made Catherine decide not to press the point, so she draped an arm over him, resting her head against his arm. Silence reigned for a while before she spoke again.

"Want that bath I mentioned earlier?" she suggested.

"Do you mind if we just sleep for a while?"

"Tired?"

"Exhausted. All that butt sitting gets to a guy," he joked.

"In that case, flyboy, you'd better sleep because there's more where that came from tomorrow."

"Can't wait," he replied in a slightly sarcastic tone.

"I promise more rewards for your patience."

"Definitely can't wait," he said more cheerily, turning his head to look at her and smiling. "More surprises?"

"Possibly," she teased, her fingers tickling him gently.

"Mmmm... something to look forward to, and that bath. I'm still gonna want that bath." Catherine detected the weariness of his tone and squeezed him tenderly.

"That's one promise I'll be more than happy to fulfil. Let's sleep, superhero." Jack grinned at that but said nothing. "Wanna spoon?"

"Spoon? Sweet!"

Without any further words, Catherine turned in the bed and Jack curled up behind her, snaking his arm around her and snuggling up close. He kissed her hair and mumbled incoherently, drifting off to sleep. Catherine closed her eyes and thought nice thoughts about her sleeping partner, but sleep eluded her for a long time and she just basked in the feel of his arms holding her safe and secure, until her daydreams allowed her to drift off to join him in his sleeping ones.

The End


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