A/N: It's been too long since I've written some good ol' j/o fluff. Enjoy!
He lay silent and still in her bed as she got up and began to dress, but she knew he was awake. She kept her back to him as she rummaged in her dresser for a bra, a fresh pair of underwear, and a pair of jeans, but she could feel his eyes on her. His closeness made her smile, but she hid it from even herself as she pulled a t-shirt over her head.
He had been staying nights at her place, on and off, for a little over a month now, and the reality of it all still charmed her. It was such a pleasant surprise to wake up in the morning and find him beside her in bed; it was a relief when they finished dinner and he followed her back to bed without a word, rather than make all the old excuses as he headed to the front door. Despite the madness and mystery swirling around them, it comforted her to be able to share this calm, predictable routine with him.
As she went to the kitchen to find some breakfast, she found herself wondering about the rest of his routine. What did he do on weekdays, after she left for work? How did he spend all those hours between when she walked out the front door and when she eventually came back?
Grabbing her bagel out of the toaster, she spread it with butter and thought. She knew he didn't spend all day in her apartment; sometimes, there were even days where he got dressed with her in the morning and they left together. But that still left her with questions...
She made her way back to the bedroom, munching on her breakfast as she went. She stopped in the doorway, leaning against the frame as she took her turn watching him. He was still in bed, and it looked like he hadn't moved even an inch from where he'd been when she'd left. Half of his face was still tucked against the pillow, and though he wasn't asleep, his eyes were closed.
"Can I ask you something?" she called.
"Mm." He murmured his assent with a shallow nod, hardly moving.
"What do you do all day when I'm at work?"
That got him to open his eyes. He stared at her for a moment, perhaps debating how to answer. In the end, he gave the truth, as they'd promised long ago to always do. Unfortunately his honest answer wasn't particularly specific.
"While you're at work, I do my own work."
She rolled her eye as she stepped into the room. "Yes, I figured that much, thanks."
With a yawn, he pushed himself up off the mattress, and into some semblance of a sitting position. "Wha' d'you wanna know?" he mumbled through another yawn.
"Nothing you're worried about telling me," she answered, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. "I'm just curious about how you spend your time. That's normal for people in a relationship, isn't it? To want to know what the other does with their time?"
He nodded. "Very normal. It's so normal we should get an award."
"Don't be funny."
"Didn't realize I was." He held out a hand, and she obliged him by tearing off part of her bagel and passing it to him. She waited while he chewed.
"If I have offline work, usually I stay here for a couple hours," he answered. "If I need to use the computer, I leave."
She nodded, understanding this without him having to explain further. He had made it clear on multiple occasions that, despite all the cryptic markings on her body, he didn't want her directly implicated in anything their old group was doing. In case things turn south, he had told her, and to this day she still wasn't sure if he meant things with the FBI or things with the group itself. She knew he and the latter weren't exactly on solid ground these days, though she did her best not to pry. It wasn't hard; often, she was too worried about what answers he would give her to bother demanding them.
It would all catch up with them soon, she knew. And Likely as not, it would be an absolute mess. But she wasn't going to focus on that now. For now, she was simply going to let herself enjoy life, especially life with him.
"What do you do for lunch?" she asked, steering the conversation to decidedly mundane waters.
"Well, I sure as hell don't eat here," he answered, reaching over to steal another piece of her bagel. "Not like there's anything edible in this place."
"There is too," she muttered stubbornly.
He frowned at her. "How many home-cooked meals do I have to make you before you realize that frozen pizza isn't food?"
She smiled. "Maybe a few hundred more."
He shook his head, miming exasperation as he shook his fists at the ceiling. "I give so much to this relationship, and what do I get back? Nothing!"
"Oh, please," she scoffed. "You're getting something."
"Oh, yeah?" A smile pulled at the edges of his lips as he dropped his fists and caught her eye. "And what is it I'm getting, exactly?"
She rolled her eyes, making to get up. "Not like that."
"Yes, like that." He reached an arm out to stop her, simultaneously showing her the face of his watch as he held her still. "C'mon, look. You're early. You've got a good fifteen minutes before you need to leave."
She groaned softly, looking between his face and his watch, trapped between obligation and interest. "No, no, I can't," she shook her head quickly, making up her mind. "I won't have time to shower afterwards."
"So?" He wrapped his other hand around her side, pulling her towards him. "You can walk in smelling like me. No one will notice."
She laughed. "People will definitely notice."
"Ah, who cares?" He slipped his hands under the back of her shirt. "You won't be the first person to come into work late because of her boyfriend."
Jane frowned at the mention, thinking of the week before. Reade had come in late on Monday, and though she hadn't thought much of it at the time beyond the fact that it was very uncharacteristic of him to be late, now she wondered...
"Is that why people are usually late to work in the morning? Because they're having sex?"
He laughed at the serious look on her face. "In my experience, yes."
"In your experience?" She raised her eyebrows. "Well, well, well... How much experience has that been?"
"Not much, admittedly."
"Lair."
"Staller."
With a sigh, she reached for his left arm, turning it so she could read the clock. He watched her bite her lip as she deliberated.
"We could always go in the shower," he offered. "Two birds with one stone."
She smirked, looking up. "The shower? Really? Didn't you learn your lesson after your little tumble last time?"
"I'll have you know my ass is as good as new."
"What about your pride?"
"Shattered. But I'll put it on the line again and again just for you, baby."
"Oh, how romantic."
"Isn't it?" he agreed, ignoring her monotone. He squeezed her sides. "Now, tell me. Do we have a deal or what?"
She hesitated a moment, then she shook her head decisively and pushed him away. "Nope. I gotta get to work."
"Ugh." He collapsed back against the bed with a groan. "What a tease."
"You're the tease," she retorted. "You're the one who brought it up in the first place!"
"Yeah, because you were the one walking around here half-naked."
"I was getting dressed."
"A likely story."
She rolled her eyes, stepping out in the hallway. "Bye, Oscar."
"Bye," he echoed glumly, and then a minute later, he called out loudly, "Hey!"
She was already at the door by then, and throwing on her jacket, but something in his voice made her turn.
"What is it?" she asked worriedly, catching him just as he turned the corner into the front room.
He didn't respond, and instead made a beeline for her. Before she could open her mouth to ask again, he was kissing her, his hands in her hair, her back against the door, and she could do nothing but let her eyes close and kiss him back.
By the time he pulled away, they were both breathing a little hard.
"Do me a favor, Jane," he whispered as he broke the kiss.
Eyes still closed, she nodded, focusing on the warm feel of his breath on her skin. "Anything."
"Please try not to get killed today, okay?"
She opened her eyes, catching sight of the look in his eyes just before he managed to look away. There was real fear there, real sorrow. She swallowed, her throat scratching around a sudden lump there. She remembered the question she'd posed to him before: What do you do all day when I'm at work?
She knew what he'd said to her earlier had been the truth. He had his own tasks to take care of while she was gone. But she knew now too that there was something else he did all day. His chief activity when she was gone was not working, but worrying. He worried for her when she left in the morning, and he worried for her every hour until she came home at night. He worried and worried and he had never spoken of it, not until now.
She reached up, taking his face in both her hands to make him look at her. Wisps of the fear were still there, accentuating the lines in his forehead and the darkness in his pupils. She rubbed her thumbs against the rise of his cheekbones as she held him.
"I'll do my best to come back in one piece," she promised him.
"One live piece," he pressed.
She nodded. "One live piece."
She let her hands slip, then, from his face to his neck to his chest. She felt the warmth of him through his t-shirt, and rested her palms where she could feel the steady beat of his heart.
She didn't know how she had done this, so many mornings before. How had she gotten out of bed and taken the train across the river and left him behind without a second thought of whether or not they'd ever see each other again? It had been less than a year since they'd met again, but already she was taking for granted his place in her life. She couldn't imagine what she would do, who she would be, if he was suddenly gone from her again.
She closed her eyes when she felt his lips in her hair. She pressed herself up into his touch, suddenly wishing she'd taken him up on his offer for one last morning hurrah. She reached up and wrapped her arms tight around the back of his neck, holding him to her. For a minute, they stood together, arms wrapped around each other, heads bowed.
"Is all this ever going to be over for good?" she whispered finally.
"Someday, yes," he answered quietly. He lifted a hand to stroke her hair. "Someday it will all be a memory, I swear."
"And we'll still be around to remember it?" she asked, pulling back so she could look up at him. "You and me, together?"
He nodded and tried for a smile. "That's the hope."
"No," she corrected firmly, lifting her chin, "that's the plan."
His smile this time was genuine. "That's the plan," he agreed. Then he opened the door and let her go.
A/N: hmu with your fluffy thoughts, friends. :)
