(Author's Note: I told you I'd give you another chapter today! I figured the last one was pretty short, so here's to make up for it, and just because I'm feeling generous today.

Standard disclaimers apply, I own nothing but my own imagitination.)

The entire apartment had been quiet, save for the clicking of Katherine's typewriter keys, until around six o'clock, when there was a sharp knock on the door. Katherine ignored it, hoping whoever it was would assume she was not home. She was in no mood to talk to anyone just then; she'd been working tirelessly on an article about the upcoming election, and wanted desperately to finish it by the morning. She continued to pound hastily at the keys of her typewriter, but several moments later, she was interrupted by a softer, more cautious knock and a voice from the other side that called with a laugh,

"Ace? Hey I know you're in there. I can hear you typing."

Jack. She groaned and stood up to let him in, immediately returning to her desk once she had opened the door for him.

"Still working?" He ventured, peering over her to read the article, his hands resting heavily on her shoulders.

"Yeah," Katherine sighed, "Hopefully I'll have this done by tomorrow so I can get it turned in." Jack wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her from behind.

"Anything I can do for ya, Miss Plumber?"

"No, I'm alright, Mr. Kelly," she said distractedly, still fixated on the article in front of her. Jack frowned at her pensively, then, after a moment of thought, he took off his newsboy cap, set it on her head, and walked into the other room. Katherine smirked at the fact that he actually trusted her with his precious cap, and went back to her typing.

The apartment was no longer quiet. She wasn't sure what he was doing, but whatever it was, he sure was making a lot of noise doing it. Not that she minded much; she was fairly good at blocking out the sound and focusing in on her work. A half hour later, he reappeared, hovering at the side of her desk again.

"C'mon Ace," he instructed, snatching his cap off her head again. "You need to eat." She looked up at him, slightly puzzled, and her curiosity was enough to allow him to pull her reluctantly from her desk, into the kitchen. There were two plates on her small table, filled with fish, rice, and carrots.

"You can cook?" She asked skeptically.

"Eh, I picked it up here and there," he shrugged like it was nothing.

"But, you can cook." Jack laughed and sat down at the table.

"Why don't you eat it and find out?" He winked at her, sending her heart fluttering in her chest. She could feel Jack's eyes on her as she tasted his food.

It was good. Not that she hadn't expected it to be, but somehow it still came as a bit of a surprise. She realized then that she really was hungry, not having stopped working to eat since breakfast that morning.

"Not half bad, Kelly," she teased, winking back at him, "Not half bad."

It was better than 'not half bad,' but Katherine didn't have time to elaborate because she was putting another fork full of Jack's food in her mouth. She hadn't had a meal that good in ages. Katherine had never been a very good cook; she was good enough to make simple dishes to live off of, but nothing like this. Jack was watching her intently, looking rather pleased with himself.

"What?" She said, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"I didn't even do nothing," Jack retorted defensively, looking rather confused. Katherine suddenly regretted sounding so sharp.

"You just-you seemed like you were waiting, or-or watching for something, that's all..." She trailed off, feeling silly for even bringing it up. Jack grinned lopsidedly at her, leaned forward on his elbows, and shrugged,

"Oh, nah, I just like to look at you, that's all." Katherine blushed profusely and avoided his gaze. That boy had no idea how much he got to her, did he? How was it that one little comment like that was enough to send her heart racing and fill her stomach with butterflies? She supposed that was why she was marrying him...

"Oh..." She muttered in response, turning her attention back to her dinner so he didn't see how badly her face was burning. When she'd finished, she stood up to wash her plate, but Jack stopped her.

"Ah, I got that," he reprimanded, taking the plate from her hands and quickly pressing his lips to her temple, "You go get that article done, sweetheart." He took both their dishes to the sink and started the water, shooing her back to her desk.

"You are too good to me Jack Kelly!" She yelled back at him. How on earth did she get so lucky? As soon as she sat down, her fingers started flying over the keys of her typewriter again. She didn't even hear Jack leave.

When her article was finally finished, she went into the kitchen, surprised to find that Jack was no longer there, his presence replaced by a note scrawled onto a scrap of paper in rather messy handwriting.

"Ace,
I don't wanna bother you while you're working on your article, so I'm just gonna go. I'll see you it good. You always do. I love you.
-Jack."

How on earth did she get so lucky?

(Aww, I just love writing them. If you have any advice, ideas, or prompts, please review! Or, you know, if you just want someone to talk to about how freaking cute the lambs are...

Much love,

PrettyLittleMonster Xxx)