He was in a white tank top and jeans tailored so well he didn't need a belt to hold them up, the bottoms flaring a little and half-covering his work boots. Susie had painted on them, but he didn't really care. All Jack cared about at the moment was the stares he was getting as he arched his back in a satisfying stretch, then took his hair out of its ponytail and ran his fingers through it. Then he yawned and flopped into one of the chairs outside of the deli, stretching his long legs out and crossing his arms behind his head as he smiled to himself and basked in the late afternoon sunlight. Admiration was indeed good, and he closed his eyes to better listen for anything the women at the next table were saying about him as he waited for the girl inside to bring him his sandwich.

A car pulled up to the curb and then the faint smell of alcohol made him open his eyes. Mary Mills was walking into the liquor store, and he pursed his lips. He didn't mind Janet and Susie staying over once in a while, but his limit right now was two nights in a row. He wasn't about to let them invade his privacy for a third night, so Jack got up and followed her, covering her hand just as she grabbed a bottle of whiskey.

"Hey, Mary," he said in a low voice. She jumped and turned her head. "How are you?"

The woman blinked at him, then looked away and tried to tug her hand and the bottle out of his grasp. "I'm fine. Just gotta get something."

Jack smiled slowly, standing close and watching her throat work as she swallowed. "Nope, don't think so. I think you need to go home to your kids, Mary."

"Yeah, well, what do you know?" she snapped. "Go kill someone; it's what you're good at."

"I'm very good at it," he agreed, leaning down to murmur it in her ear and listening with pleasure as her breath hitched and she gulped again. Her hand on the bottle was shaking, and it wasn't from anger or withdrawal. Good. "Come on, Mary. I'll take you home and make you some dinner." She looked at him again and he smiled, the smile that almost always made Rachel's knees quiver. It worked on all women, or at least it worked on Mary, because the disgruntled look on her face was replaced by one filled with pure need and want and sex, and she let the bottle go with a return smile of her own.

"Well . . . I can always come back for more."

"Yeah, you can," Jack murmured, turning her around with a hand to the small of her back and leading her out of the store. He paused to grab his sandwich, left on the table by the deli girl, then loaded Mary into her car. "We'll get you home safe," he said for the benefit of the table full of gossipers. He got in the driver's seat and started the car, taking just a moment to make sure he remembered how to drive correctly, and pulled slowly out of the parking space. Yeah, he still knew how. Needed to talk with Rachel about being allowed to drive again.

"Thank you for taking the girls," Mary mumbled.

He glanced at her. "Sure. Stop drinking so you can take care of them yourself."

"I don't . . . I just . . . I just miss Harry too much sometimes," she defended herself. "Nothing helps. It won't stop hurting, Jack, and Susie looks so much like him . . . don't you ever need to just forget?"

"I don't remember shit about my past," he said dryly. "But I suppose I know what you mean. Janet and Susie don't have to suffer for it, though." She started crying quietly and Jack cursed under his breath. The things he did for his own comfort . . . "Look, Mary, you've got food at home, right?" She nodded, still snivelling. "All right, I'm a great cook. What do you want for dinner?"

Thoughts of food distracted her enough that she stopped crying, and once they'd gotten to her house and inside, Jack rummaged through the kitchen to find something to make. There wasn't a lot, but he could make do.

"Where are the girls?"

"At friends' houses. I needed to be alone."

Ah, she was foisting them on other people so she could drink in peace and quiet. That explained it. Jack nodded as he started water boiling for spaghetti.

"Why don't you have a seat while I cook," he said as she started to sneak off. The guilty look on her face said she'd been headed to the liquor cabinet. Mary sat obediently, and Jack looked her over for a moment before turning back to the freezer and pulling out some meat. She had Janet's brown hair and brown eyes, and if it weren't for the haggard look on her face, she'd be passingly pretty.

"Didn't your first wife die?"

He didn't even twitch. "Yeah. Fell off the balcony . . . almost five years ago."

He heard her sniff. "How did you cope with it?"

"Rachel was in my life from the start," Jack explained. "I mean, she was the D.A. in Gotham City when Harleen died, and she came down to the police station to question me about her death. I guess she forgot to go back to her own life, because I couldn't get rid of her." He smiled at the memory. Maybe he'd make her a big burrito when she got back, see if she remembered.

Mary's voice spiralled up into a whine as she spoke. "At least there was someone there for you, you know? I mean, Janet was only thirteen and Susie was three . . . you didn't have two kids to take care of, you didn't have to worry about your mortgage or your car ---"

"I had to worry about an entire city being out for my blood, and being accused of murder," Jack interrupted as he sat across from her. "Not to mention I didn't know how to deal with any of it --- not people, not the situation, nothing."

"But you had someone," Mary pressed. "You had an adult to talk to. Oh, forget it . . ." She crossed her arms in front of her and buried her face in them, sobbing.

Jack got up and hugged her because he recognised her loneliness, her need for someone to be there with her. Maybe this was what compassion felt like. He worried at the scars inside his mouth with his tongue as she clung to him, nails digging into his back. She was moaning about how much she missed her husband, how she couldn't stand seeing him when she looked at Susie, how terrible of a mother she was being and how much she tried to love her girls, and all Jack could think to do was hold her tightly and stroke her hair. Her outburst disgusted him but he understood, he knew what she was going through and for the sake of Janet and Susie, for the sake of not having to come out here again to get the girls, Jack took Mary's face in his hands and pressed a kiss to either cheek, then regarded her seriously.

"Look, Mary, I know how hard it is to lose someone you love." She sniffled, and he wiped her tears away gently. "I had a cat to take care of when Harleen died, and not much else. You've got two daughters who need you to be their mother. They can't do that when you're drinking yourself to death. I know you miss your husband, Mary, but Janet and Susie need you. They're too young to go through this, understand?"

She buried her face in his chest and cried harder. "I'm sorry . . . I'm so sorry . . ."

"Well, stop being sorry and start being a mother." Jack tried to stand up but Mary didn't let go, clutching at him tighter. He sighed and walked them both back to the stove. "Can I finish dinner?"

She nodded and loosened her grip, but still leaned close and Jack had to finished the noodles one-handed, his other hand around her shoulders. He listened to her talk about her dead husband because Rachel had listened to him talk about Harleen, even when he knew she hadn't wanted to. He realised, as he stirred the sauce, that he'd forgotten to fill Rachel's birth control. Oh, well. He'd do it tomorrow; as long as it was filled by the time she got back on Sunday, it would be all right.

"So," he said as he handed Mary a plateful of spaghetti, "are you going to stop drinking?"

"I won't drink as much," she replied.

"That's good." She looked surprised, like she'd expected him to insist she stop completely. Jack smiled slightly at her. "What? So long as it doesn't interfere with the kids, drink all you want. I don't care, so long as I don't have to do your job for you."

She poked at the food. "It's hard when everyone in town's talking about you . . . I can't even go shopping without them thinking I'm buying alcohol."

"That's because you usually are. If you don't want to be stereotyped, stop being stereotypical. Just a thought."

"Do you get lonely with Rachel gone?"

He paused, licking his lips as he stared at his plate. ". . . Yeah."

". . . Will you come by tomorrow? The girls would love to see you."

Jack closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath. ". . . Sure." He looked at the time; he had at least an hour's walk ahead of him. He really wished she'd stop paralleling what he'd gone through so he could ignore her more effectively.

Jack managed to make small talk for another half hour, until it was obvious that Mary was just stalling to keep him there. Then he sighed and took her by the elbow, leading her firmly upstairs and to her bedroom. He waited outside the door while she got inter her pyjamas, and raised his eyebrows when she opened the door and just stood there in a short nightgown.

"All right, then. Need me to check under the bed for monsters?"

"Are you walking home?"

"Huh? Yeah, I am, and I need to get going."

The woman bit her lower lip and looked down, a gesture Janet used a lot. "I'm sorry, Jack. Why don't you stay here tonight? There's plenty of spare rooms."

He opened his mouth to protest but licked his lips instead, then nodded. "Sure, thanks." At least he didn't have to walk home, and she could give him a ride back in the morning. Mary smiled up at him as she slipped past, opening the bedroom between hers and Janet's.

"It's a little musty, I'm sorry," she said as she opened the curtains and the window. "Just let it air out a bit."

"I don't mind," Jack said as he sat on the bed. Mary came up to him and he tilted his head back to look at her. She was shaking again, on the verge of tears and put her hands on his shoulders, leaning down to press their lips together before Jack realised what she was doing. His brain registered the kiss first, then the softness of her lips, then her deep breaths and the pressure of her hands on his shoulder, and then the fact that this wasn't Rachel and he pushed her away.

"Okay, look," he said as she stumbled back and tried to apologise, "I really do get that you're lonely, and that you want someone to be with you and listen and comfort you and all, but I'm married." He held his left hand up, wiggling his ring finger to emphasise the band on it. "Happily married, to an amazing woman, and I'm quite in love. So I'm not doing this. You need a shoulder to cry on, sure, I can handle that, but that's the only part of me you're getting. Is that clear?" Jack glared at Mary, heart racing from surprise. He'd been expecting Veronica to try to jump him, not Susie's mother.

Mary was nodding, her face held in her hands. "I'm so sorry, Jack, I just . . . I'm sorry." She turned and left the room, and Jack got up to close the door. He listened for a moment; he could hear her sobbing from her own room, and it made him roll his eyes. He'd thought that only Rachel could make him feel like an ass. Apparently he'd been wrong.

Jack knocked on her door gently, then opened it. "Hey, Mary? I'm sorry I snapped at you." She was laying curled up on her side, clutching her husband's pillow to her chest and ignoring him. He came and sat on the edge of the bed. "I was just surprised, is all. I know you need some comfort, but I'm not the guy for it, all right? Hey . . ." He touched her shoulder, then sighed and stretched out beside her, running his hand up and down her arm.

"You think I'm a whore."

"No, I think that Veronica is a whore. I think that you're lonely and need to keep your lips and hands to yourself and stop drinking so much so I don't have to take care of your kids. There's a big difference." He was speaking in a low voice, lips right behind her ear and she sighed as she slowly relaxed. She snuggled back against him and he straightened his arm out, letting her rest her head on it. "Now, go to sleep, all right?"

He wrapped his other arm around her waist, fully intent on leaving as soon as she was asleep, but it was sunlight in his face that woke Jack up. He shifted a little and held the warm body next to his close, and it snuggled closer, turning in his arms and lips met his neck. He sighed and arched his head back, hands pulling her closer before lowering his lips to hers. Something was a little off, but he was still mostly asleep so his libido took over, running his hands up her back and sighing into their kiss, ignoring the odd taste.

Then his brain caught up with his dick and Jack's eyes flew open as he shoved Mary away again, but this time she was just as surprised. He sat up and she crawled off the other side of the bed.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," she gasped out. "I wasn't . . . I didn't mean to . . ."

Jack ran his hands through his hair as he got up, flushed, licking his lips. "No, no, that was my fault. I'm sorry, Mary. I don't think too clearly when I wake up."

The two stood across from each other, embarrassed and aroused, and then Jack cleared his throat.

"Yeah, look, I'll just walk home, all right? I . . . it would just cause trouble, you know, and I don't . . ."

She was nodding quickly. "Oh, sure, I understand. It's no problem; I'm sorry, Jack."

"No, no, wasn't your fault. Uhm. Yeah. See you around." He turned and opened the door just as Janet was about to knock on it. Her brown eyes got huge and her mouth dropped. "Uh . . . hi," Jack said lamely.

"Jack? What are you doing here?!"

He looked over his shoulder at Mary. "Uh . . . took your mom home . . . uhm . . . guest room," he muttered.

"This is not a guest room," Janet said firmly, looking like she'd just gotten punched in the stomach. "You . . . Mom . . . but, Rachel ---"

"No! No, it's not like that," Jack said as he grabbed her arm and pushed his way out of the room. "Look, she just needed someone there, all right? I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"Didn't mean to? You had sex with my mother!" Janet yelled, furious now that some of the shock had worn off. She jerked out of his grasp and pushed him away from her. "Oh my God, how could you do that, Jack? What's wrong with you? Rachel's going to kill you, and I'm telling her as soon as she gets back!"

Jack grabbed her arm again and shook her as his own anger bubbled up. "I didn't have sex with her, damn it!" he yelled back. "Or did you want to come home to her passed out drunk on the couch? I made her dinner, and then we fell asleep, all right? Look at me, little girl," he growled when Janet turned her face away. He tightened his grip and she looked back with a pained gasp. "Shut your fucking mouth, because you don't have any clue what you're talking about. I did not have sex with your mother. I do not want to have sex with your mother. And when I say that," and he shook her again, "I'm not lying. Do you understand me?"

There were tears in Janet's eyes as she nodded. "I'm sorry," she whimpered. "I'm sorry, Jack. You're hurting me . . ."

Jack nodded. "Damn right I am." He shook her once more for good measure, then shoved her away. "Don't you ever accuse me of lying again." Then he stormed past her, stomped down the stairs and didn't even acknowledge Susie as she was coming out of the kitchen.

"Jack! Jack, why are you at my house? Jack? Wait up!"

He ignored her small voice, not willing to face the child in this mood, and either she gave up chasing him or Janet had taken her inside because her voice stopped following him and he broke into a jog, trying to run his anger out. It occurred to him that Rachel hadn't called before she went to bed last night, either, and as Jack came into the town proper he slowed down and dug his phone out of his pocket. It wasn't like her to not call. If she had, he'd have gone back to that guest room and wouldn't be in such a foul mood at the moment. He wondered if she was all right. Had something happened?

Five tense rings later her hushed voice picked up. "Jack, what is it? I'm in a lecture."

He leaned against the feed store and pushed his sweaty hair out of his face. "You didn't call last night."

Rachel sounded slightly irritated as she sighed. "I'm sorry, we had a late night. I forgot, Jack. Is that all? I need to get back inside."

He didn't know what to say. Rachel never just brushed him off like this. Jack swallowed sharply. "Fine, yeah, just wondering if you were dead or not. Guess you aren't; go have fun."

"I'll call you after it's over. I love you, Jack."

"Uh-huh. Bye." He hung up, glaring at the phone. Fine, be that way. He didn't want to talk to her, anyway. Might blurt out that he'd been tonguing Mary when he'd woken up, and then she'd really be pissed. But it hadn't been his fault! He'd been half asleep and had assumed it was Rachel next to him; she was the only woman he'd woken up next to since Harleen had died. It had been an easy mistake to make.

Jack straightened up and started a leisurely stroll down the street, just like he hadn't come from another woman's house and bed, just like he was out for a walk. Maybe he'd get some candy at the candy store. He liked sweet things. Maybe he'd buy some for Susie, too, to make up for ignoring her.

Which brought him back to babies, and the need to refill Rachel's prescription. He'd do it later; he'd already passed the drug store.

Christ, did he really want a kid? Could he handle it? He nodded absently to the few people who actually said hello, deep in thought as he wandered toward home. He was all fine with a kid in theory, but to actually have one . . . if he had to take care of the Fine's girl-thing all the time, or pick Susie and Janet up daily, or hell, even deal with periodic teenage outbursts from the elder Mills child . . . it wouldn't be nearly as fun then, he figured.

But then, Rachel would be there, too. She'd been right that he kept thinking about children in terms of him and him alone, not taking into consideration that she'd be there to help, or even do most of the work. He could . . . he could stare at the thing all day, if he wanted to. It would move and squirm and maybe he'd take it to the beach to calm it down, sit it in a car seat or carrier or whatever as he fished off their dock. Yeah, bonding. And he'd think about grounding it or other disciplinary actions when it was old enough. The Mitzi-creature didn't make much noise; the girl-thing had been easy to care for when he'd had dinner with its parents.

But if these murders went like he figured they would, like he was planning for, then a kid would get in the way and probably get hurt. He knew he could put a bullet through a stranger, no problem, but his own kid? Even if it saved Rachel? He wasn't so sure on that one.

"So never judge a book by it's cover . . . Or who you're going to love by your lover . . . Love put me wise to her love in disguise . . . She had the body of a Venus, Lord imagine my surprise ---"

He flipped his phone open. "Hey, fag. Whatcha got for me?"

"Oh, nothing you're going to like," the other man replied cheerfully. "No clue where either of them are. Haven't been seen for the past . . . six months for her, eight for him. You okay?"

"I'm fine. Anything else?"

"Uh, yeah. Turns out there were a couple John Does about a year back, bums, slashed like your girls up there."

"They're not," Jack growled, "my girls."

"Ooh, sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to imply anything. Anyway, looks like you were right. How's things with my wife?"

"She's my wife," he bit out, "and other than her mother-fucking biological time-bomb of a clock, we're peachy-keen."

"Oh my God, please tell me you're going to have a kid!"

"Hideki, I am going to kill you. No, I'm going to bang your boyfriend first, then show you the video of it, then kill you."

The D.A. was laughing. "You can't win, Jack. Geez, you'd traumatise a kid."

"Thank you." He kicked at a rock. "So? Anything else? Couple of practice rounds, then they skip town and head up here? Why's it taken them so long?"

"No clue, you sexy, aggressive man."

"Blow me."

"Gladly. Let me say goodbye to Raoul after work and I'll come right up."

"I'm looking forward to it." Jack sighed. "I don't know about a kid, Hideki. This shit aside, I can't be good father material."

"Well, we'll talk about it next weekend. I'm sure we can train you up good if you decide to have a kid. You'll have to name him after me, of course."

"I'm not naming my child after you."

"Sure you are. I've gotta run, but tell my wife I said hi, will you?"

"Faggot," Jack grumped as Hideki laughed and hung up. He sighed and watched as the house came into view, listening to the wildlife chirping and squawking all around. There was a basket on the porch, a care-package from Tom and Helna, and Rory was sunning himself on the railing. He took a lazy swipe at Jack when the man patted his head. "Asshole."

Once inside, Jack put the food away and looked into the two spare bedrooms, carefully considering how each of them would look as a nursery. They'd have to buy so much stuff. Small stuff. Cute stuff. Fluffy stuff. A new chair to sit in and rock the baby. Those gate things to keep the offspring from getting into rooms it didn't need to be in, or from falling down the stairs. A playpen, maybe. Jack sighed and sat at the computer in the living room, booting it up and then doing a search for this Mother Goose lady he'd heard about.