Sparks, Flames, Embers

Epilogue: Rude Awakenings

Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!

"Ugh. Carter, I am going to shoot your phone."

"…-truction of gover- … prop'ty… felony…'sides, not …phone," mumble-grumbled Peggy into her pillow. "Mine sounds like – "

Bzz-Bzzz. Bzz-Bzzz. Bzz-Bzzz.

"Bullocks."

Peggy tossed Jack's phone to him before looking at her own screen, and then she was shooting out of bed and digging into the nearest box with clean pants.

And Jack was doing the same.

"I have a dead sailor bobbing in the Potomac. You?"

Peggy sighed, "I'm being told to haul ass to my rendezvous point, to standby for an undercover op."

Jack didn't ask which one. Technically, he shouldn't know, but he knew that she had been on standby three times for her trafficking ring case, only to be called off at the last minute. She had complained each and every time and then some of her distaste for 'hurry up and wait' orders, she was sure.

Later, after they got done brushing their teeth over their new his-and-hers sinks and completing their other toiletry routines, what he did ask her was, "Are you going to be home tonight, you think?"

"Probably not," she replied resignedly, and then pointing to the golden black woven striped tie that he had been debating over, she said, "That one."

He tossed the red paisley tie aside, and challenged with a grin, "First one home gets to crack open that bottle of cab that Jarvis gave us as a house-warming gift."

"Deal," Peggy agreed, and added with a smirk of her own, "I may even leave you some."

"Ha!" Jack scoffed, knowing (admittedly as much as she did) that he had a better track record of knowing when to call it quits for the night.

She wasn't offended by his reaction. In fact, that knowing grin of his that he shot her in the mirror while he struggled to knot his tie sent all kinds of warm-fuzzies throughout her body. He knew her, and he accepted her – workaholic traits and all.

In that moment, she did what had to be done. She grabbed him, finished knotting his tie for him, and then used it to pull him down for a long, slow kiss, at the end of which, she leaned her forehead against his and murmured breathily, "Love you."

He rubbed his nose against hers, and breathily whispered right back, "Love you too, Marge."

~A~

Kawoosh!

*cough, cough* "Ugh." *cough, cough, cough* "Oh god."

These and other less than pleasant retching sounds woke Jack up in the middle of the night.

He stumbled out of bed and headed to the kitchen, filling up two glasses of water (one for rinsing and one for actually drinking) before heading to the bathroom. Once there, he stood in the doorway and blearily assessed the situation.

Peggy was on her knees, slumped over the porcelain throne and clinging to it like it was a life preserver as she dry-heaved and gagged. Her face was pale, her skin looked clammy, her dark curls were in frizzy disarray, her eyes were puffy with dark circles beneath them, and there was something reddish at the corner of her mouth that he really didn't want to know the name of.

He had never found her more attractive.

And it had nothing to do with the fact that her lingerie in the past few weeks had gotten a bit too small in the bust area – well…not entirely.

It had everything to do with the reason for that snug fit and current ralphing. Hint: the latter wasn't due to the flu, food poisoning, or one crazy night of drinking, which would have been the top 3 reasons until a few weeks ago.

"Somehow, I find that hot. I guess that means we should get married."

Peggy raised her head up just enough to shoot him her patented 'Are-you-shitting-me?' glare before hurling yet again.

He wasn't sure if it was because that was perhaps the worst proposal ever or because she doubted her ability to be sexy in her current state or both. He was sure he would hear about it tomorrow though.

In the meantime, he set aside the water glasses and went over to hold back her hair. He did so silently of course, for Peggy in this state found whatever he said to be worth strangling him over and by the looks of it, she didn't want to hear what he was currently thinking.

'She's so fucking gorgeous…I am going to be a father, and she's my baby-mama…and that is SO mother-fucking (ha ha) hot…and not because I have a pregnant woman fetish…but all of this just makes me want her more…love her more…How is that even possible? But I am never going to feel about anyone like this ever again so why not tie the knot?

When she was done, had rinsed, and rehydrated, Jack wrapped his arms around her, rubbed her spasming back soothingly, and bravely whispered, "I love you, Mama Marge."

"I know," she hoarsely chuckled. "And not" she rubbed her slightly showing bump up against his erection, "because of this."

"God, I hope not," he huffed.

They sat in silence, holding each other while they sat on the cool bathroom tile, in the dark. His thoughts of granny panties, of Samberly in nothing but his lab coat, or of really anything remotely un-sexy were interrupted by Peggy's softly whispered, "Ahem, Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"If you were to ever properly ask that question, er, I would, er, say yes."

"Okay. Peggy – "

"Not tonight!" she hastily interrupted, but softening just enough to add wistfully, "But someday, Jack."

"Okay…" he swallowed nervously, mostly because his heart was full to bursting. Eventually, he managed to softly murmur into her hair, "Good to know."

And it was. It so was.

~A~

"Waah! Waah! Waaaahhh!" went the baby monitor.

And of course so did the baby. Their baby. The she-devil of a child who was bound and determined to rob them of their sleep and their sanity.

Peggy felt somewhat guilty for no longer being that mother who raced out of bed at the first whimper of her baby and not only that but snuggling deeper into the covers with each wail.

But it was the fifth time that night. She had been fed – twice. And changed. And been rocked and sung to, alternatively by both her and Jack. And she wasn't running a fever or showing any other signs of illness…So why, dear God, why was she still crying?

Peggy was gearing up to roll out of bed, but Jack beat her to the punch (not literally). He pushed her gently back down and whispered, "Go back to sleep, Peg. I got this."

With a sigh of relief, she sunk back down. She didn't put up any kind of fuss, because she knew that he so did.

As she lay there quietly listening to the baby monitor, she counted her blessings.

Jack had been there with her every step of the way, even as he had been there for their son. He had fought to get paternity leave so he could be there at the birth and in the weeks afterwards, to help out. He changed more than his fair-share of the diapers. He got up when she fussed, even if it was just to sit with her while she fed their voracious daughter. He helped wrangle their son in the mornings or took him outside so 'Mommy and baby can have their nap' in the afternoons.

And right now he was turning the she-devil's frown upside down and the two of them were cooing and gurgle-laughing away at each other.

Peggy was never more jealous of the charming bastard than she was right then.

Except when in the next few minutes, over the monitor she could hear soft baby snores.

How the hell did he manage to do that?

When Jack crawled back into bed next to her, she managed to keep her grumblings to: "So why – " *yawn* " – was she crying?"

"That dumb star-spangled teddy bear of hers fell to the floor."

"The one Howard gave her and he calls 'Stevie'?"

There was a rumbled response into the pillow next to her that sounded like 'Are there two dumb such bears?', but she couldn't be quite sure. She didn't deign his ridiculous resentment of baby stuffed-toys with a reaction however. Instead, she voiced what she had been thinking for the past few minutes: "Thank you, Jack."

When he didn't respond, she thought he had drifted off back to sleep, but just as she was about to do the same, his arm was snaking out to pull her into his side.

And when she was neatly tucked up against him, he kissed her cheek and murmured contentedly into her hair, "Happy Anniversary, sweetheart."

~And so they lived happily for the most of their days, sleep-deprived and all~

A/N: a bit of cute fluffiness for the epilogue after some angsty chapters. I never can seem to resist. And as always, I hope you enjoyed.

Please, let me know what you think I could have improved on or what your favorite parts were. - Love, MVM