A/N-there are so many things I'd like to see in Season 3! I get that Blindspot is an action show at heart, but I'm GREEDY for Jeller. Hehe. Most chaps will just be short scenes or additions to episodes. So I'm going to start this fic as a place to put all of those scenes and one-shots. They won't necessarily be in order, but ideally I'd like to do one per episode. I'll reference which episode in each chapter for context. I'll update this one as the muse strikes. Some will be smutty, some not. I'll mark the lower-rated chaps as such for those who prefer those stories.


Trying-Post Episode 3x02

Mild M-rating

To be perfectly honest, Jane was a little hurt that Kurt sent her out with Zapata and Patterson during the only really free evening they'd had since their return. Her friends had asked quite persistently, and he very calmly said, "Go. Have fun. I'll be home when you're done."

As much as she'd hesitated to go, once she was there she had so much fun, laughing and joking with her friends over drinks. Shortly after six, Patterson and Zapata both dropped her like a bad penny, offering her a ride home as if they had much better things to do. This was all feeling suspiciously like a setup.

The romantic part of her brain thought maybe Kurt was planning a surprise for her. The suspicious part wondered if he needed time to take care of something without her. She had yet to learn about the details of his life in the previous eighteen months. Apart from the fact that he'd been "looking for her," she knew very little. He'd asked her a million questions when they went on their date, and listened to every story she'd told like it was the most interesting thing he'd ever heard. And she'd had enough stories to fill the few hours they had alone.

On the cab ride home from drinks with her friends, she felt a bit guilty for not asking him more about his life. She hadn't meant to avoid asking him, but she'd had so much she'd wanted to tell him, things she'd wanted him to know, and he certainly kept asking questions, never giving her a chance to ask any in return. As always, their time was broken by work. Wasn't there a happy medium between living in Colorado with far too much time on her hands and being back at work where there was never enough time free time?

The door was unlocked, and instead of finding that welcoming, she worried that someone had broken in. Carefully entering the room, she saw Kurt hurry across the hall wearing only a towel, damp footprints left in his wake. "Are you okay?" she asked, looking around the room and seeing their furniture and tons of boxes before she locked the door.

"Fine. Just grabbed a quick shower," he shouted from the other room. "Sit down, have a drink."

It felt nice to sit on their sofa and put her feet up. A bottle of wine waited on the coffee table with two glasses, and on the back of the bottle she saw the label designating vegan wine. Most people probably didn't know how considerate he could be, but he had often shown her that since they'd been together.

"You know you don't have to get me drunk to get laid," she shouted back, teasing.

"You should have told me that before I bought the wine," he countered, feigning complaint as he popped back in the room.

"Our stuff is all here?"

"Yup. Reade gave me a hand after the movers brought it up. We're far from done, but there's fresh sheets on the bed, and a fully stocked fridge."

"You've been busy."

"I have," he answered with a grin, hurrying out to the kitchen to answer the call of a timer. "I didn't have a chance to unpack all of the boxes. But I thought we could do that together…figure out where we want everything. It's a fresh start, so I want to make sure things are the way you want them, too."

When the oven opened, steam billowed from inside and the delicious smells were enough to make her put down her glass of wine and investigate.

"No peeking," he ordered, spinning something in the oven that looked like lasagna.

"Kurt…" she sheepishly said, "vegan means no dairy, I'm so sorry, but—"

"I know," he interrupted, proudly gleaming. "I consulted an expert. Trust me, I've got this all under control. Go sit down."

"Okay," she replied, sauntering back to the sofa.

While he hurried around the apartment, they talked, discussing whether or not they should paint and where to put the many boxed items they'd had delivered from storage. It was nice being home, but no matter how hard she tried to get Kurt to pause and relax, she couldn't seem to quite get there. It was like hitting a moving target in the dark.

He came over and sat on the coffee table in front of her, bracing his elbows on his knees. "It'll be just a few more minutes. Took a little longer to prep since it's the first time I've made anything like this. I'm still figuring things out."

"Kurt, you don't have to—" her words faded into a hum when he leaned over her lap and kissed her, his hands sliding behind her hips and down over her ass to her thighs before he jerked her knees forward, bringing her almost to the edge of the sofa as her body slumped down.

"What are you doing?" she smirked knowingly.

"Appetizer," he explained, wiggling an eyebrow. "I missed this," he added, his voice rumbling while his fingers plucked open the button on her pants.

"Me too," she agreed. Trying to finish her earlier thought, she added, "But you don't have to—"

"Up," he ordered, kneeling in front of her and waiting for her to lift her hips so he could tug her pants down to her ankles. He looked at her shoes, seemed irritated by the knots he found in her laces, and elected to lift her feet over his head, her pants still connecting her ankles while he slid his shoulders between her legs.

He pushed her knees apart, his hands pressing them to the sofa while he brought his mouth to the apex of her thighs. He wiggled his tongue, parting her flesh and immediately drawing the low moan he'd sought from her chest. How many times had she thought about him like this, at least until thinking about him began to make her miss him far too much. None of that mattered, though, now that they were together again and finding their footing. He'd welcomed her back without a second thought.

He slid two fingers inside her, bringing her body to his face so he could lavish her sex with kisses and licks that made her back arch and fingers dig into his shoulders while she held on. He'd always been attentive, good at responding to subtle cues, and he hadn't forgotten her body in the time that she'd been gone.

Being back with him felt so wonderful in a million different many ways. She could have held him between her legs like that for days, wishing that the pleasure could stretch for so much longer than reality would allow. It was almost over too soon, her body hitting the point of climax with a fury that shattered her.

Feeling something momentarily that reminded her of sadness and worry, she remembered a few seconds later that she would still be with him tomorrow, and the next day. This wasn't a temporary situation. This was, she prayed, an actual marriage with a couple who lived together in their daily lives. Sighing a, "Damn that felt good," she reminded herself that this was both a continuation and a new beginning. Hopefully they were building something even better than what they'd had before.

His tongue tickled her sex one last time, her body contracting with a harsh pulse that made her sit up, and she saw his eyes staring playfully up at her from between her legs. God, she really loved that man.

Her relaxation was interrupted when she felt him maneuvering her legs over his head, and she remembered her pants were still on because he was too impatient to bother with her shoes.

"Be back," he said, placing a final kiss on her hip before he took a step away.

"Wait," she groaned, grabbing at his hand because she wasn't ready to give up the warmth of his touch just yet.

She realized then that the timer was going off, and he said, "Gotta get that or I'll burn dinner two nights in a row."

Standing was, to say the least, inconvenient, but she decided to get rid of her disheveled clothes, so she went to their room for her robe. She chuckled as she saw her hair in the mirror, already mussed up and scattered in all directions. Something clanged in the kitchen, and she heard Kurt curse at whatever frustrated him, and she was reminded of the conversation she'd wanted to have before he'd knelt in front of her on the sofa.

Coming out to the kitchen, she offered, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You're already doing it," he smiled, picking up two hot, full plates with dish towels and nodding toward the balcony.

He'd lit a candle out there, the flame dancing from the breeze. They sat across from each other and she studied her plate. Sensing her concern, he said, "I promise, everything on your plate is 100% vegan approved. I checked. Even dessert is safe, I got that special sugar that—"

"Dinner is perfect, Kurt," she reassured. "Thank you."

He handed her utensils wrapped in a napkin and said, "Eat up. Try the rolls."

She took a bite of the garlic and herb knotted roll he'd obviously made from scratch, given the flour she'd seen speckling the kitchen. Her eyes flashed open, as she chewed, "Seriously? This is vegan?"

"Cross my heart," he replied, appearing pleased by her reaction.

"I believe you. I doubt you'd go through all of this hassle to make something I couldn't eat."

"So tell me more about that job you worked in Bud—"

"I don't want to talk about that," she interrupted, trying the eggplant rollatini that was so incredibly flavorful that it made her eyes roll into her head.

"Bet the monks never made you that."

"They didn't," she chuckled. "But you really didn't have to do all this."

"If you have to be back home, I should at least make it worth your while," he casually answered, continuing to eat.

She gave him an odd look to answer his statement, so he changed the subject.

"You don't have to talk about that job. Tell me about a different one," he requested.

"I don't want to talk about any jobs."

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No. Well…not really."

He looked like he suddenly wasn't feeling well. "What is it?"

"Why would you say that? That I 'have to be back home'?"

"Well, you were kinda forced to come back. I know you'd still be out there if our friends hadn't been kidnapped. I showed up and messed up your new life and—"

"Stop right there," she shook her head, feeling both sad and irritated. "I love you, Kurt. You doubt that?"

"I've never doubted that," he honestly responded. "But I took away the life you built and—"

"I want to be here with you. We can each be ourselves and be together. I'm still helping people here. My presence isn't putting you or anyone else in danger. I never stopped wanting to be with you…never. I told you I was tired of running. I want this."

"So do I," he replied. "So we don't have a problem."

"You seem so nervous around me," she replied.

"Sorry. I want you to be happy here. I don't want to lose you again."

"I don't want you to constantly worry that I'm going to leave. I know I hurt you when I left. But I didn't have a choice. And I'm here, we're here, because we want to be. I appreciate what you're trying to do, supporting me, respecting the changes I made. I'm here to stay. You have nothing to be nervous about."

"That's good," he smiled, taking a bite.

She wasn't certain if he really believed her yet. It would take time, and if her only choice was to prove to him that she was just as devoted to him as he was to her, then she was okay with that. She was willing to show him what he meant to her.

She ate some more, complimenting the meal as she devoured it, and they shared more relaxed conversation.

Once she'd cleaned her plate, she said, "You know I still respect who you are, too…as an individual. You don't have to change for me."

He tilted his head, clearly baffled. "Change?"

"You don't have to become vegan for me. It's my choice and—"

He laughed, sounding more like himself, like the very thought was incomprehensible. "Yea. You don't have to worry about that. I'm not. Not ever."

"Oh good," she replied. "I'm really relieved to hear that."

"It's fine to eat like this on occasion. And a lot of stuff I can make for you, I can just slather over steak for me."

"Yea," she nodded, grinning from ear to ear.

"There's a Chinese place I heard about that's only a few blocks from here…there is a vegan version of every single dish on their menu. So we'll both be happy."

Hurrying to the kitchen to grab another roll, she returned, tossed one to him and admired, "You really are amazing in the kitchen. It took you twenty-four hours to master vegan cooking?"

"One recipe does not really qualify as mastery. But give me time and I'll expand my repertoire."

She sipped her wine, folded her hands in her lap, and said, "There is one thing that's really bugging me."

"Okay. Tell me," he insisted, putting down what was left of his roll and giving her his full attention.

He'd often been so good at that, focusing on her and really listening. She could feel the love that drove the effort.

She sighed woefully. "I'm not sure how to say this, but…"

Kurt swallowed, bracing himself for the worst.

She finally added, "You keep insisting on wearing pants and—"

He laughed again, his amusement honest, and nodded emphatically, "You know, you're right. I apologize. That was thoughtless of me."

"Talk is cheap," she answered, her eyes dancing.

She stood, leaning forward, offering him a view down the front of her robe as she blew out the candle. They each picked up their plates and took them to the kitchen. Standing in front of him, she suggested, "I have an idea."

"I can't wait to hear it."

"You took care of the appetizer…" she said, taking his hand and dragging him behind her, "so let me handle dessert."