Francie was shaking as she walked into Jack's apartment with him following close behind her. She turned to face him as soon as the door shut behind. She'd been good. She hadn't yelled at him in the hallway--where the control came from she didn't know--since he hated public scenes, but now they were in the haven of his apartment.
Of course, they had both been so good at the Golden Palace. The tension had quietly grown between them as Sydney's plan became more and more obvious. Poor Lance, unaware of his role in the drama, had increased his efforts to charm Francie as she'd grown more and more distant.
When they'd reached Jack's car, after he'd slid in behind the wheel, the tension had exploded into a gigantic argument. It was not how she'd wanted to spend her sixth-month anniversary. The last sentence argued in the car had been about Jack's plan to take her out someplace special for the evening.
Now safely inside his apartment, she spun around to face him, yelling, "Maybe if you hadn't been working so damn much I would've known that you had plans to take me out someplace special! Or I would've at least known that you weren't too keen on the idea of going out with Sydney."
"You know that my job requires--"
"That you don't have a life? It strikes me as strange that when you imported airplane parts, the job had the same requirements." She almost winced at that comment. Knowing how Jack felt about his failures as a father, she'd been hitting below the belt. But she hurt too much to care.
She noticed that his fists were clenched; she'd never seen him so angry. It felt good to see him get just as furious as she was feeling. "I exported plane parts."
"It didn't matter what you did. All I remember is that you weren't there for Sydney. Kind of the way you've been with me for the last month or so," she snapped.
"Then maybe you should go out with Lance. He's more likely to be there when you need him."
Tears struck her eyes, but she'd be damned before she let him see them. "Maybe I will," she said as she stormed towards the door.
His hand wrapped around her forearm, yanking her around to face him. Before she could even gasp, his mouth slammed down on hers. His tongue forced his way into her mouth, and she met his anger and passion with her own.
She found herself pressed against the door. If she had time to think, she might have been surprised by his forcefulness. He'd always let her be the leader before. Or it had been soft and slow. But tonight was fast and furious, and he was taking charge.
He jerked off her coat and slipped his fingers beneath her sweater. She clawed at his jacket, forcing it down his arms. He jerked back and yanked at his jacket. As it clung to him, he growled. Francie heard a seam rip, and it fell to the floor.
Then she was up in his arms. There was no gentle stroll this time. Jack marched her into his bedroom as if he were on a mission. She loved it . . ..
***
Francie groaned as she woke up. She wanted to stay asleep, but the smell of coffee and the hand on her shoulder were insisting that she wake up and start her day. She blinked open her eyes and eyed the coffee mug. Gray. She was at Jack's.
Grinning, she sat up--ignoring protesting muscles--and reached for her cup. "Good morning," she said as she wrapped her hands around the warm mug.
"Good morning," Jack said as he walked away from her to look out the window. He had a great view of LA, but she doubted he looked at it much.
She took a sip of coffee as she wondered why Jack didn't sound as pleased as she did about last night. Was he still angry with her? She had said some cruel words last night.
"I'm sorry."
Jack turned to stare at her. "You're sorry? For what?"
"For everything I said last night."
Shaking his head, he said, "You didn't say anything that didn't need to be said."
"That's not true, Jack."
He looked back at the window. "I have been working too much lately."
"Yes," Francie said, "and I always told you that it was okay instead of talking about how I was feeling. Which is wrong. Waiting until I was mad to handle it was not smart, and I said things in ways they didn't need to be said." She put the coffee mug down on the nightstand and tossed the covers to the side.
She laid her head on his back and said again, "I'm sorry."
He didn't turn around or respond to her presence. "As far as I'm concerned, you have nothing to apologize for, but I'll accept it if it makes you feel better."
She pulled away and stared at him. "You're not acting like it."
When he finally turned to look at her, she was shocked at the anger blazing in his eyes. She almost took a step back. "I haven't forgiven myself, yet."
"You didn't say anything that--"
He gently took her hand in his and turned it over, exposing the inside of her wrist. "I bruised you."
She looked down at the tiny mark. It was big enough for a thumb print and would be gone in a few days. "You're upset about this?"
"I hurt you," he said.
Looking back and forth between his face and her bruise, she wanted to laugh. He was so upset about nothing. It made her sad. "Jack, it's a little bruise. It's nothing serious."
"It is to me."
She thought about all the times he'd let her be aggressive. How he'd never been the aggressive one. Until last night. When their argument had provoked him into letting his guard down. "Jack, you'd never hurt me. Not physically."
He rubbed his thumb across the mark he'd left the night before. "It doesn't look that way."
Francie shook her head. "If you weren't wearing that shirt, I bet I could find a few marks I left on you." She took a step closer and reached for the buttons of his shirt. "In fact, I remember biting down on your shoulder a little harder than I should have last night."
His hands stopped hers. "It's not the same."
She felt her jaw tighten. "So, what you're saying is that I can hurt you, but you can't hurt me? I thought we were in a relationship, Jack. And I don't really like double standards in my relationships."
He looked as if he was about to argue, but the flash of anger in her eyes must have warned him. He stared down at the bruise and then shook his head. "I am sorry for what I said, too."
"We both fell right into Sydney's hands," Francie muttered. If her friend was here right now, she'd strangle her. Even though it had been a brilliant plan, and she was sure that Syd had convinced herself that she was doing it for Francie's own good, it had been especially cruel to Jack.
He said nothing. Francie turned and walked back to get her coffee. "Sometimes I forget how much she's like you."
"Like me?" Jack sounded surprised by her words.
Sinking down onto the bed, she studied him. He was dressed in a shirt and slacks. He looked tired, and she bet he hadn't slept much after the intense lovemaking session last night. He probably sat up most of the night worrying about what he'd said, about how he'd lost control. About their age difference--which Syd had made sure to highlight at dinner.
"You can't tell me, Jack Bristow, that you didn't carefully orchestrate the break up of Sydney and John Marcum in the eleventh grade."
She smiled at the look on his face. She sipped on her coffee as he replied, "What makes you think I was responsible?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because it was the only time you asked Sydney to entertain a co-worker's daughter--one who never showed up again. Or maybe it was how she was just perfect for the job. Her IQ was apparently lower than her bust size, and anyone who knew John Marcum knew he wasn't going to be able to resist that much temptation. And anyone who knew Syd knew she would never forgive him for not being able to resist."
Jack opened his mouth, and she thought he was going to lie to her, but then he smiled. "He was a pothead and using her."
"Don't forget he was an absolute asshole. I don't know what Syd was thinking dating him," she said, shaking her head.
"Sydney never realized--"
"Nope," she said. "And I never pointed out the obvious to her."
"She would've continued to date him just to get back at me," Jack said as he walked to the other side of the bed.
Francie laughed. "Yeah, she would have. She probably would've married him. I guess now I know why you never forbid her to see him."
"Sydney's stubborn."
She leaned over and kissed him. "Yes, she is."
He glanced over at the clock and started to stand. "You need to start getting ready if you're going to be at the restaurant on time."
"I took today off. Billy's opening for me." She noticed the time and shook her head. "But you have to be getting ready to get to the bank."
"Actually, I took the day off, too. I thought that maybe--"
"We'd be too worn out after celebrating six months together," Francie finished, thrilled that he'd had the same plans as her.
She leaned forward and kissed him. He returned her kiss and gently pushed her back down on the bed before slowing kissing down the side of her neck. She shivered as he continued his gentle exploration of her body.
"I love you." The words escaped without permission.
Jack tensed in her arms. Then he pushed himself up and looked at her. He said no words, but his kiss was answer enough for her.