Disclaimer: I don't own DP.

BGM: "Heavy in Your Arms" by Florence and the Machine.

Sour

It was a chilly autumn night, leaves scattered on the sidewalk red-gold in the light of incandescent street lamps. I sat at a battered iron bench tucked away in a corner of the University of Wisconsin campus. I had a sheaf of papers in one hand, the other clenched hard enough to turn white.

"Maddie?"

It was so damn cold, I was shaking like a leaf.

"Maddiekins…"

I snapped. "What?"

"It wasn't your fault, you know that," he said. He was staring down at me with that silly hangdog look, pouting like a disappointed child like he did whenever things didn't go his way.

"How do you know?" I croaked. "How would you know whose mistake caused that, that-"

"Horrible accident?" he finished.

"Tragedy," I corrected.

He straightened, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. "Well, I don't know," he admitted. "Haven't got a clue! But, Maddie, you didn't want that to happen, right?"

That was enough to shock me into sitting up, clutching the papers to my chest, right hand fisted and one movement away from his face. "Of course not!" You idiot, I was tempted to add.

"So you didn't do anything that could have made the Proto-Portal malfunction?" he pressed on.

"No," I spat.

He brightened up, a broad smile gleaming under the lamps. "Then it couldn't possibly be your fault!"

I let my hand fall back to my side, straightening to look at Jack with as little of a height disadvantage as possible. The thought that I should have worn taller heels crossed my mind, but I waved it away.

"It was both our faults," he said.

My jaw dropped. I felt my shoulders slump and brought a trembling hand to my forehead, brushing my hair back. I stopped, annoyed, when my hand tangled in a knot. A perm just did not work well with my hair.

Jack reached down, delicately gripping my hand and moving a few chemically stiffened locks out of the way. I froze, but he only squeezed my hand for a second before letting go. He stepped back, looking at me in an unnervingly direct way only the innocent, the mad and the very stubborn can.

I dropped my gaze, staring very intently at the leaf-strewn concrete. We stood there in a silent battle of wills for a few long moments, unless I was the only one battling. For one of those moments, we were back in the lab and I was checking over his calculations for the thousandth time. He was standing there staring at me, trying his hardest not to fidget, and I could hear his shoes squeaking as he scuffed at the tile. I smiled. Jack was right. We'd all worked on that project. It had been Jack's idea, and he'd drawn the original blueprints. I'd checked his calculations and redrawn the designs. He'd built the Proto-Portal's framework and put in most of the parts, and then I'd taken it apart and put everything back together in a way that could actually function. Even Vlad had thrown in his two cents, usually from across the room as he pretended very hard he wasn't interested. No, the Proto-Portal was both of our pet project. Like I could ever blame Jack for something like this.

I sighed and looked back up to meet his unswerving gaze. "I get it, Jack. If it was my fault, it was also yours, which means it's pointless to point fingers. …Especially at myself."

He blinked. "What? Oh! Yeah, of course, that's what I meant!" he boomed out, grinning and striking what I'm sure he thought was a heroic pose. Really, he looked more like an overgrown kid playing superhero. It was so cute.

…Did I really just think that?

A breeze blew past, and I reflexively curled in on myself to block it out, pressing the papers from the lab flat against my chest. "Cold," I muttered.

"What? Oh! Here you go, Maddie." With that, he shrugged off his worn wool overcoat and hung it over my shoulders. Surprised, I sagged under its weight.

"Thanks," I said, hunching down a bit to hide a blush.

He grinned. "No sweat, Maddie!"

Speaking of which – yes, the jacket was damp around the underarms. Considering how cold it was, it must have been from nerves, and Jack had just put on a brave face to try to keep me from worrying. Obviously, that hadn't worked. I shook my head, drawing it tighter while trying to keep from touching the damp spots.

A tap on my shoulder. I looked up again. "Yes, Jack?"

He smiled, this time wide and wobbly, relieved. "You doing okay now, Maddiekins?"

I nodded. "I will be."

"Great, then I'll walk you home!" he boomed out, setting off toward the dorms.

I followed him, rolling my eyes, again glad he couldn't see me. Jack was sweet, really, but this wasn't the fifties. A guy could do a little more than walk a girl home once in a while and hold hands. A kiss, for starters.

Mind, out of gutter, now! One of our closest friends is in the hospital with a horribly disfiguring skin condition and who knows what else, and you're fantasizing about his cute roommate. Bad Maddie, bad girl!

And that just set off another round of fantasies involving me and Jack and a for-once-empty dorm, or maybe a convenient hotel room. I must have been about twenty different shades of red at that point. Then I walked into something – er, someone.

"Oops. Sorry, Jack," I simpered. Simpered. I ask you, what is it about broad shoulders and muscles that turns a perfectly reasonable up-and-coming young woman into a simpering mass of hormones? …Oh, right. Muscles. Drat.

I shook my head, realizing he was asking me something. "What?" I asked blearily.

"Aw, Maddie, I'm sorry. Here I am, blathering on, and you're about to fall asleep standing up." He grinned at that, but there was an odd edge to it, quickly explained when he picked me up in a bridal carry.

I blushed, momentarily speechless. That wore off fairly quickly. "Jack! What are you doing?" I hissed, suddenly worried someone might hear. Silly, really, it had to be past midnight, and the campus wasn't exactly busy at this hour.

And then I was grateful to have a solidly built escort. Not that any common criminal could hurt me, but I really wasn't in the mood to fight anyone. That is to say, I didn't want to have to find a pay phone to call an ambulance for the would-be mugger or whatever else I might run into.

And Jack was awfully solid, and warm, and I was so sleepy…

A/N: Another. Bleeping. New fic. I swear, it was supposed to be a oneshot, but then it got out of control...

EDIT: For those who are wondering what the bleep happened, I wrote a story set before this, and it is the new first chapter. This hasn't changed. Yes, I know I'm bad at story planning.