Last/First Day, The Night, And For Her
Last/First Day
She was there when he arrived home, sitting on his front step, arms wrapped around her knees. It was the first time he'd seen her all day, and the sight of her wide, blue eyes looking up at him made his bad mood dissipate instantly. (Of course, it was because he hadn't seen her that he'd been in a bad mood.)
It was his last day after all.
So. She was there, waiting for him.
He honestly had no idea why. He let her in and asked if she wanted a beer. She said yes. He went to the kitchen, and, when he returned, he found himself flat on his back, Carter straddling him, her hands buried in his hair, and her tongue in his mouth.
Oh, yeah.
In the morning, Jack found the beer bottle on the floor, half empty, and a dark stain on the carpet.
The Night
(The press of soft thighs against his own. Hands touching, clenching. Soft sounds, sweet sounds, pleased sounds...)
Jack rolled over to find his bed empty. The sheets were still warm. He let his hand rest where she had been moments before, wondering if he would ever see her again.
Out beyond his bedroom door, he heard another door open. He heard the toilet running. Then, she was there, moving lightly across the floor, blond hair glinting in the morning light, hockey jersey swaying, before crawling into the bed. She curled up against his side, and he breathed her name reverently into her hair.
"Sam..."
For Her
As he bent over to peer into the telescope, Sam smiled.
Not because sunlight still fell warmly on their shoulders.
Not because he knew he would see nothing.
And not because, if properly prompted, he could speak astronomical technobable with the best of them.
But because she knew he did it for her.