Consolation Prizes

Consolation Prizes


Author: Robin Nance

Email Address: digital_doc_01@yahoo.com

Rating: R (violence, sexual overtones)

Pairing: Jack/other (sorry, you'll have to read to get more than that)

Category: Low-fat smut cookie – heavy on the angst, light on the sex

Disclaimer: "Profiler" and its cast of characters don't belong to me, else Jack would have seen a lot more action and Donald Lucas would be doing a lounge act in Reno as we speak. I use them here, as always, only for cheap thrills and promise to put them back where I found them.

Summary: Sometimes it takes more than words to really prove yourself to the one you love; Jack has his own methods.

*****

"It's so good to see you're all right. You have no idea what went through my mind when –"

The words had barely left his lips when Jack was moving, throwing himself sideways to avoid the missile aimed at his head. The vase exploded against the wall, sending a shower of glass shards and ruined roses over the floor, the furniture, and most of his suit. Jack swallowed hard, willing himself to hold his anger in check. In some ways, he deserved this reaction, expected it at any rate. And the last thing he needed tonight was an adversary, this one special adversary in particular.

"Darling, I don't think that was exactly called for," he began, the placating smile stiff and unnatural on his face as he carefully brushed the glass from his lapels.

No vase pelting him this time, just a barrage of epithets, spicy and regional enough to make him laugh out loud if he didn't know that laughing would only make things worse.

"Lying bastard!" The voice that could be a caress was now as sharp as the glass at their feet. "Don't you 'darling' me as if everything's just fine. You don't care what happened to me – you've never cared!"

Jack sighed. "I don't care? How long have we been together? And how long did you know about me, even before then? You know full well what I'd do to anyone else who even thought of attacking me like that, let alone in my own home. I think that in itself counts for caring."

"Don't you play the wounded party with me. You stand there and lecture me on my bad behavior while your little bitch apprentice gets to run wild? She could have killed me today, Jack, she was chomping at the bit! If you hadn't shown up when you did the VCTF would be finding pieces of me on their damned doorstep."

"And don't you think I know that?" Jack's voice was rough, belying the fear that he'd worked to keep in check all day. "Don't you think it was tearing at me the whole time I was looking for her, that I'd dropped the ball, given her too much freedom and too much credit for intelligence, and you were going to pay the price? You know what I was thinking when I was out there 'not caring' about you? That I could punish her, do exactly what she'd done to you if I felt like it, but it wouldn't matter, it still wouldn't bring you back if I got there five minutes too late!" His fist hit the desk between them, and for a minute they stood in strained silence, listening to the ashtrays rattling on its surface.

"But that's the whole point with us, isn't it?" The anger was fading; an undercurrent of hurt and resignation ran through the beautiful voice, lay like a mantle over the slumped shoulders and bent head.

Jack winced. "Please don't start this now."

"Now's just perfect. Let's be honest with each other, Jack – even if you didn't give Sharon Lesher that order today, one day you will. Next week, or next month. Whenever you're finally satisfied that she's become the perfect partner, and you don't need me around anymore."

"You know that's not true." Jack stepped around the desk warily, still on the alert for any objects about to be launched at him. "I'm looking at my perfect partner. We do so much so well when we're together, all that's missing is that one step, that trust. It would never be anyone but you. You do realize, don't you, that you're the only one who really understands me?"

"That's why I'm saying this, I understand you all too well. I love you, Jack, God knows I hate myself for it, but I do. I'd do almost anything for you –"

"Except let me teach you," Jack interjected bitterly.

"Except let you teach me how to kill, Jack, let's just use the word, OK? I won't do that, and she will, and soon she'll be everything you want and I'll be an annoying reminder of a mistake, the one regrettable time you let the little head think for the big head. Let's be real here, if you can get everything you'll ever need in one pretty package, you're not going to settle for the consolation prize behind door number two."

"Everything I want? I want you, don't you see that?" Jack's breath exploded in frustration. "I love you. Sharon's a tool, not even a good one. If I've made a mistake here it's her, not you. I don't feel anything for her, not love, certainly not desire. I never touched her." A derisive snort met the last words, and Jack impulsively caught his lover's head in his two hands, brushing back the tousled hair and forcing them to meet one another's eyes. "Hey. Hey. I said I never touched her. With all of the things you know about me that are so much worse, why would I lie to you about something like that?"

"Because you know that's what I hate more than anything, her having you all to herself for days on end when all I can afford is an hour on the sly. I have eyes, what is any rational person supposed to assume goes on here besides the training? Come on, Jack, you have a beautiful woman living with you, head over heels for you, ready to jump anytime you snap your fingers. Isn't that every man's fantasy?"

"Obviously not." Jack raised his eyebrows pointedly. "It would be a lot easier for me if I did want her, you know. Loving you has been a major complication in my boring little life, my sweet, in case you hadn't noticed."

He was finally rewarded with a hint of a smile. "Yeah, I know the feeling. I can't exactly bring you to the office Christmas party, can I?"

Jack chuckled. "Now that would be interesting."

"I'm sorry I reacted like that, I just…I was scared."

"So was I." Jack tightened his arms around the body he knew so well, shielding it with his own.

"And you shouldn't be so shocked that I'm jealous of her. She wants you so bad she can taste it. Hell, Jack, she's all about sex – even I thought she was hot when I met her."

"Well, if you like her that much I could arrange a little apology session for the three of us this aft—" Jack raised his arms defensively as he was pushed roughly away and against the desk. "Darling, it was a joke, it was only a joke!"

"Jack, your sense of humor is lost on me at the best of times. Don't push it today."

"Sorry. You're right. I – I'm sorry." Jack shook his head, a cynical smile lifting the edge of his lips. "You're the only one who's ever heard me say those words, did you know that? You inspire the most incredible cravings. Love and forgiveness, even from something like me. Does that count as some kind of proof of what you are to me?"

"Mmm. Does it make you realize that there's a man under the monster costume who's capable of wanting and receiving love and forgiveness?"

"Darling, don't make this into an occasion to preach about reforming me. I have better ideas for spending our time." Jack pressed himself against his lover's back, shivering at the warmth of the skin beneath the thin cotton. His tongue flicked out once, then again, playing with the delicate tip of an earlobe, his breath raising fine hairs on the nape of a neck that was bending to welcome his lips.

A sigh, all frustrated idealism battling with blatant want. "Sex isn't the answer to everything, Jack."

Jack began to respond, then pulled back as the computer beeped. "Then let me give you another answer."

"What do you mean? Jack, you know I don't want to be a part of these games –"

"Just watch and listen, you'll like this." Jack settled into the computer chair, tilting the monitor so they both could see.

The audio portion started first. The voices were reverberating and tinny as though they were coming from a small box, but recognizable nonetheless.

"This is the one, I recognize the number."

"Hold on, I'm calling for backup –"

"Bailey, we can't wait, he could be dying! I'm going in!"

"Jack!" No anger, no hurt anymore in the voice at Jack's ear. No love or want, just panic, raw and beautiful. "Jack, don't you hurt them, you said you wouldn't – don't do this to me, not after today –"

"I. Said. Just. Watch." It was no longer a request.

As if on cue, the video feed commenced, and the voices had been coming from a box, it was the cramped back seat of an ambulance, and the doors had just been opened from the outside. Light glinted off the gun in Bailey Malone's hand, the gun that he wouldn't need today. Light poured over Samantha Waters' face and the mix of horror and relief displayed there.

"Cancel the backup, John. Jack's not here, he's been and gone already. Call Gracie, we'll need her up here ASAP."

"Is—is it Coop?"

"No, it's – she's a stranger."

The video ended then, frozen on the image of Sharon Lesher, eyes wide, rose petals strewn over a mouth fixed in a permanent scream. More roses covered her body and what was left of her paramedic uniform. Her arms were crossed, palms flat against what used to be her chest, fingers laced over the raw red hole that used to be her heart.

"Irritating. She almost hurt someone close to my heart today." Jack flicked the monitor off casually.

Nick Cooper swallowed hard at the lump in his throat, pulling his eyes from the dead screen. "That's not what I meant to happen. That's not what I wanted."

"It's what I wanted. I don't do consolation prizes, Nick. It's time you realized that."

"Jesus God. I hate myself for this, for all of this. One day, you know, I'll hate you too."

"In the morning, darling, in the morning," Jack murmured, pulling his lover down onto the computer chair. Nick whimpered and gave up, falling to the floor with Jack in his arms, absorbing the fall with his own body. He felt the tiny pinpricks bite into his skin, kisses and splintered glass, pleasure and pain. Hate and obsession and God help him love, and all of it too confusing with Jack's lips against him.

In the morning, it would have to end. In the morning….

**END**