Right, so a number of things.

1. The name of the fic has nothing to do with the actual fic. I'm just really rubbish at giving anything I write a name biggrin.gif 2. This is my first smut piece of writing. Quite possibley my last. I am woeful.
3. I apologise for the woefulness of the smut section.
4. I have to stop agreeing to write fics when I'm drunk.

Disclaimer nonsense: they're not mine. cos if they were I'd have confiscated all their clothes a looooong time ago.

Lets roll.

"Irina."

"Jack."

"You're here."

"Yes."

"You're naked."

"No."

"No?"

Irina tugged down lightly on the front of her hat and grinned. She leaned back in the chair that she occupied allowing Jack to take in the image of her sitting at his kitchen table wearing only a Santa hat and a smile.

"I stand corrected." The corners of his mouth curled up to match hers. He took a step towards her and offered his hand. She grasped it and raised herself up to meet him. His mouth gently pressed against hers, gently running his fingers through the strands of her hair not hidden beneath the hat. She wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him to her, breathing him in. He kissed her again. "What are you doing here?"

She squeezed his sides, her hands coming to seek out his tie making short work of undoing the knot. "I was struggling with what to buy you for Christmas." She kissed his throat, sneaking her tongue out to taste him. His hands moved to her hips. His fingers sinking into her skin to pull her closer. A tightness that was never far when she was around found purchase in his groin. She nipped at his chin as she pulled the tie from around his neck and dropped it unceremoniously on the floor. "So I thought, the one thing that you don't have...is me. At your disposal. For an entire night."

"Well in that case there are some plates in the sink that need cleaning."

She disengaged herself from his arms, sidestepped around him and took towards the sink. "If that's what you want." Jack grabbed her wrist before she had completely passed, pulling her back roughly, his mouth slamming into hers. His tongue pushed passed her lips in search of hers, stroking repeatedly when he met it. She responded in kind as she tore his shirt from his pants in a desperate bid to feel the skin beneath. Her fingers cool against the warmth of his flesh, intoxicating, blinding, he lifted her from the floor and onto the table's edge. She reached between them, cupping the bulge that had grown in his pants. He groaned at the contact and kissed her harder, sucking her tongue into his mouth as she continued to massage him.

They both drew back breathing heavily, attempting to force oxygen back into their lungs. He shrugged off his suit jacket and followed it quickly with his shirt. She raked her fingernails through the greying hair on his chest, leaning forward tease his nipple with her teeth. He ground out her name before dragging her mouth back to his. His belt undone, by either, by both. His pants on the floor. His erection straining against his boxers and pressing into her.

She pushed him back gently. "I'm not having sex with you on this table."

Lust fogged his thought process and confusion flooded his eyes. "Why not?"

She laughed lightly at the boyish disappointment that lingered on his face. "Because that's how we broke the first table we ever owned."

His face reddened at the memory. "I promise to catch you before you hit the floor this time." She laughed loudly and freely. The sound was wondrous. She kissed him softly and hopped off the table, readjusting her hat as she led him to the living room.

"You decorated the tree."

"Sydney did. Insisted on it."

"I prefer the red decorations we used to have. I don't like the blue balls."

"I can't say I'm a fan of blue balls either." She punched him lightly in the arm. "Don't ruin the lovely mood with your dirty innuendos, Bristow."

"Ah well if its a mood you're after..." Irina made herself comfortable on the couch as Jack went in search of a box he had discarded under the tree. Irina, enjoying the rear view of her husband as he attempted to locate his target, tutted to herself that he still possessed his boxers. Jack sat back on his heels, his search a success as he removed two large candles from an open box. Matches found, he lit and deposited them on the floor as he caught Irina's gaze. "What?"

"Jack, those candles..."

"Yes?"

"They're...phallic shaped."

"They were a gift."

Her eyes narrowed in spite of herself. "From. Who?" Her voice laced with burgeoning jealously.

"Marshall." He paused as he let the surprise register on her face. "I can only assume that Carrie mistakenly received the tie that he usually purchases me." She hid her smile behind a hand. "And technically they're vibrator shaped candles, or so says the packaging." He slunk towards her until his hands found her knees, pushing them apart as he knelt before her. "Now where were we?"

"Well technically, we were getting to the insertion of your penis into my.." His teeth capturing her lower lip bit of the end of sentence.

"You kiss your daughters with that mouth?"

"Just their father."

He smiled. Kisses raining from his lips onto her neck, he sucked on the pulse of blood that beat steadily beneath her skin. His mouth lowered to her breast, the tip of his tongue circling her nipple before he enveloped it with his mouth. His name flew from her mouth as she dropped kisses into his hair. He continued down the length of her body, every inch of skin her encountered explored by fingers before kissed in reverence. Fingertips reached her slick folds, delicately he discovered her as if for the first and not for a countless time. He moved one then two fingers inside of her, stroking, caressing. Irina's breathing laboured as he persisted. She sought his mouth and simulated with her tongue in his mouth the actions that he carried out inside of her. He ground harder with his hand, his heel pushing against her clit as his fingers moved with increasing speed. He felt her muscles contract around him as she came, her cry swallowed by his mouth, her ecstasy flowing into him causing him to grow harder.

He stood long enough to discard his boxers before returning to his previous position. Irina reached for him, encompassing the his length in her hand, closing tightly around him, her hand finding a rhythm, eyes locked with his. He placed his hand over hers, removing it and dragging her forward.

"Can't wait." She nodded, words beyond her, amazed at his coherence. She straddled him, sinking onto him, taking him deep inside her. Time slowed. Stopped. They stilled. In awe of each other. There was nothing but them. One second ticked to another, time resumed. They moved. Slow, languid movements. Kisses on mouths, his fingers on her spine, her nails in his back. A look. And she was on her back on the floor, he above her as the thrusted, drawing almost completely out before thrusting back in. Her legs locked around his waist, his pace increasing. Eyes never breaking contact. Her muscles began to spasm for a second time, his fingers finding her clit again to drive her over the edge. She arched and clenched and cried out as her orgasm hit her, dragging him along as he came almost violently. He collapsed onto her, mindful of his weight, their bodies slick with sweat. She kissed his shoulder and relaxed completely. Happiness seeping through her veins.

Jack moved to lie on his back beside her. Breathing returning to normal. He reached out and pulled the Santa hat from her head, placing it on his own with a stupid grin.

"Thief."

"Terrorist."

She lay her head on his chest, curling into his side. "Merry Christmas, Jack."

"You can stay until tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Then yes. It is."