Chapter 6

Jack remained at the bar as the night drew on. Even though Harleen was busy flitting about the pub, serving drinks and wiping down the dark oak surfaces, Jack felt better company having half conversations with the blonde English girl rather than his obnoxious colleagues.

"So where'd you get the mutts?" He asked once Harleen had returned behind that bar. She smiled at him, wondering why he chose to stay here and talk to her rather than his friends.

"They were from a litter that my neighbour's dog had. The last two pups weren't wanted, so my mother offered to take them off their hands." Harley explained. "They weren't meant to become mine," she shrugged, "but we're joined at the hip now."

"Harley and the hounds." Jack chuckled, running his fingers through the grooves of the wooden bar as he watched her clean glasses. There was something about the way her eyes darted from him to the glass that she was holding, as though she was trying to ignore and hold his gaze at the same time.

Harleen giggled. "Please don't call me that."

"Why not?" Jack asked, "It suits you." He held her eyes captive for a moment awaiting her response.

Harleen shrugged. "We don't know eachother well enough for you to give me nicknames."

"You'll have to get to know me better then won't you?" He smirked. Harley blushed at his remark. She paused for a moment, taking in every crease and mark of his face. He had a tiny hairline scar that sliced through his incredibly sharp jawline. Harley wondered if it was just a razor cut or if it was something more exciting. She couldn't deny that this man sitting before her had an air of mystery about him…

"It's your choice?" Jack said suddenly, snapping Harleen back to reality.

She blinked twice, shaking her head as she misheard him. "Pardon?"

Jack chuckled at her blank expression. He pulled his body up by his arms that rested over the counter and leant forward. His shoulders straining the seams of his uniform. "I asked you if you would prefer to be called toots or Harley?"

"Are you always this persistent Mr Napier?" Harleen asked, cocking her head to one side as she furrowed her brows.

"Yes." He replied, with a smug look on his face. "Does that bother you? The fact that I won't do the polite thing and back down."

Harleen shook her head and smiled. "I wouldn't expect anything less Mr Napier. Your friends seem to share your determination."

"Do they indeed?" Jack asked. He turned his head briefly and saw staff sergeant Mark Richards squinting his eyes in their direction.

Harleen nodded. "That one there, in the middle." She said discreetly gesturing her head in Mark's direction. "He called me baby," She told Jack with shiver. "and he put his hand on my thigh."

Napier scowled instantly, his throat vibrating an unfamiliar sound. "Listen…you stay away from him. He's nothing but trouble."

"And you're not?" Harleen replied.

"Oh I am…" He smirked. "But the best kind." Jack raised his right hand and combed it through his soft brown hair. Harley watched as each strand knitted against his fingers perfectly. Her mind wandered to thoughts about what it would feel like...her fingers entwining against either side of his face as she dragged them through his thick locks.

Harleen coughed, breaking another dangerous train of thought. "I mean, he's a bit handsy, but he seems harmless enough…"

"Trust me toots, it's best if you don't get involved. Just carry on wiping glasses and pouring drinks." Jack suggested firmly.

"Don't worry Mr Napier...I don't make a habit of getting involved." Harley retorted. She turned her back to him, reaching out to grab another foggy glass that needed to be cleaned. Still half leaning over the bar, Jack watched her as she moved. It was somewhat soothing to see her little dainty feet that were covered in black heels tap along the wooden floor. He wondered if she was wearing stockings as his eyes travelled up her leg, or was her skin really that flawless?

Harleen suddenly turned, she stepped back startled by how far Jack was leaning over. She looked down at her legs and then back to his burning eyes. "Lost something?" She asked.

Jack chuckled, remembering their conversation earlier. "Just looking for your smile toots."

The night began to wind down further, the locals paid their tabs for the night and Mr and Mrs Gilbert began to count the nights takings. Jack still sat at the bar, ignoring the loud obnoxious laughter coming from the table behind. Harley frowned at the noise and the way Mark would deliberately look her over from a distance, as if she was a piece of meat hanging up at the butchers to be sold.

Mrs Gilbert gently walked over towards Harleen and placed her hand on her shoulder. "Could you kindly let the gentlemen over in the far corner know what we're shutting up shop, and we need their paid rounds for the night."

Harley couldn't help but groan. Just as she was about to respond with a pitiful excuse, Jack interjected. He placed his index finger in the air, while his free hand fished around the pocket in his uniform. He produced a handful of coins and placed them down to the bar. "I'll never get used to your currency." Jack chuckled, not looking at Mrs Gilbert, but looking again at Harleen. "I'll get their money." He stated before slipping off the bar and sauntering over towards the table.

Harley watched from a safe distance, thanking god that Mr Napier had just saved her from the torture of going back to that table. He paused slightly in his walk, delaying in the swift steps that he took. Jack looked over his shoulder and saw Harleen watching him. The grin that was ever present on his face extended tenfold.

"Fellas!" Jack greeted, now facing his colleagues. "Bar's out for the night so time to pay up."

Mark narrowed his eyes at Jack. "Tryna' get in on my plan eh?"

Jack laughed. "Dine and dash isn't going to work here Sarge, they know where you live...well temporarily anyway."

"Talking to the blonde to get the booze? I thought you weren't interested in our little money making scheme?" Mark asked, with stinging after tone of bitterness.

"I told you before and I'll tell you again. I'm not interested in your plots." He repeated. "I came here to fight a war, not to get involved."

"But you are involved Jack...or have you forgotten what went down back home before we left?" Mark sneered. "You owe me Napier."

Jack tensed his jaw like a vice. His teeth grinded together. "I don't owe you anything Richards. But I can give you something… free of charge of course." He said, balling his fists up tightly.

"Threatening a senior rank Napier? Are you sure you wanna add that to the charges when you're court martialed?" He asked. Mark suddenly stood, allowing his chair to scrape against the wooden floor. He walked right up to Jack and squared his shoulders.

Harleen watched from afar, feeling her throat become dry at the thick tension that suffocated the air around her. She clutched the dish cloth that she was holding in her hand tightly, silently praying that a fight wouldn't break out

Napier stood firmly, countering Mark's intimidating stance. "Take it easy Sergeant, we wouldn't want you to compromise your money making scheme by getting barred on the the first night."

"You're either with us or against us Napier. Make your choice." Mark snarled.

"I've made my decision, and I'm warning you, don't involve people who don't have anything to do with this." Jack threatened, letting his eyes finally move over towards Harleen.

I am obsessed with writing this...hence the quick update!

- M