[Ana's safe house is the second story of a small house tucked back in a maze of small houses deep in the old section of the city, run down looking on the outside but still functional and even cozy on the inside and she's standing at the counter next to her hotplate, chopping vegetables, hair twisted back in a fresh, still damp braid down her back, long hands competent even as she shoots him a look over her shoulder as he comes in.
As he'd come in to one of their safe houses, and her, hundreds of times before.
For just a moment, the past overlays the present and the warmth of it comes swirling back over her. It hadn't all been bad. It had been hard but - it had been very good too. How many times had she holed up somewhere with her team, her boys, just Jack, and felt the kind of contentment of being surrounded by people she cared deeply for despite being in the middle of a mission or on call? She feels the swell of it in her heart for a moment and lets it come. Its a wave and she's learned as she's grown older that it is easier to simply ride that wave out than try to hold it back or fight against it. Because it passes and she sees only Jack and he isn't the Jack she remembered. Ah... but she isn't the Ana he remembered either, not anymore. But... he's still Jack. And she's still Ana. And some things never change.
Like the fact she was about to corral him off to the shower before he caught her attention and she turns away from her cooking, smile on her lips that's somewhere between pleasure and old familiar, gentle teasing, cutting knife resting against her arm as she crosses them loosely.]
When did you become such a charmer, Jack? I wasn't expecting housewarming gifts.
no subject
[Ana's safe house is the second story of a small house tucked back in a maze of small houses deep in the old section of the city, run down looking on the outside but still functional and even cozy on the inside and she's standing at the counter next to her hotplate, chopping vegetables, hair twisted back in a fresh, still damp braid down her back, long hands competent even as she shoots him a look over her shoulder as he comes in.
As he'd come in to one of their safe houses, and her, hundreds of times before.
For just a moment, the past overlays the present and the warmth of it comes swirling back over her. It hadn't all been bad. It had been hard but - it had been very good too. How many times had she holed up somewhere with her team, her boys, just Jack, and felt the kind of contentment of being surrounded by people she cared deeply for despite being in the middle of a mission or on call? She feels the swell of it in her heart for a moment and lets it come. Its a wave and she's learned as she's grown older that it is easier to simply ride that wave out than try to hold it back or fight against it. Because it passes and she sees only Jack and he isn't the Jack she remembered. Ah... but she isn't the Ana he remembered either, not anymore. But... he's still Jack. And she's still Ana. And some things never change.
Like the fact she was about to corral him off to the shower before he caught her attention and she turns away from her cooking, smile on her lips that's somewhere between pleasure and old familiar, gentle teasing, cutting knife resting against her arm as she crosses them loosely.]
When did you become such a charmer, Jack? I wasn't expecting housewarming gifts.