crossing_lostrp | [George] The Morning After

Who: George
Where: Her Room
When: Day 24, morning (immediately following "Walk of Shame"
Invited: Captain Jack Harkness
Status: Complete

George paused outside the door to her room. She considered knocking for a moment, but the thought, (Hell, it's my room.)

She turned the latch and pushed the door open and slipped inside. When the door closed, it was dark. Pitch black. At some point early in the morning, they'd turned off the bedside lamp so they could sleep. Not that they'd actually slept, not for a while yet.

"Jack?" George breathed, hardly loud enough for her own ears. The room was warm and slightly humid. A strong musky scent filled her nose. The smell of sex. George wondered suddenly if she had carried it with her to the kitchen. She shuffled forward, unable to see, gauging her progress by memory. The bed should be a few more careful steps that way....

"Jack?" George asked, a little louder this time. Her foot caught on something and she flailed for moment until she caught her balance. Her foot was tangled in the bundle of sheets they'd pulled off the bed and thrown aside. Kicking carefully, George untangled her foot and then pushed them aside.

Another careful step. Two. Then her shin brushed the side of the bed. George bent and felt around for the mattress. Ah, there. She slid her hands across, feeling for Jack. Was he still in here? Had he left too?

"Jack?"

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"I'm a light sleeper." He could feel her jump when he spoke. "After you left I only dozed a bit."

He had dreamed of the smell and the silence. The sickly sweet smell of human bodies decomposing, and the only sound being his own breathing and movements. Two months on the space station as systems slowly died. He'd managed to reroute everything to the floor he was limited to. But living with the dead while wondering if the air scrubbers would run out before the water. Not really the type of dreams you told a new lover about.

"But if you want to keep feeling around, I'm not gonna stop you. A bit up and to the right." He was pretty sure his smile was audible.

His stomach gave a slight rumble. Damn. He had used quite a bit of energy last night.

"I don't suppose you snuck me a peice of toast?"

(Toast,) George thought, and her own stomach reminded her that she'd put nothing but coffee into it earlier. George moved her hand up and to the right and found a piece of Jack. A moment of groping identified it as his ribs.

"Uh...no," George said. "Sorry. I could go get you s--"

"Never mind," Jack said. George jumped again as something brushed her face. She belatedly recognized it as Jack's hand, cupping her cheek. After a moment, she leaned into it. Jack's thumb brushed her lips ever so gently. "You're smiling," Jack observed.

"...yeah," George said. Now that she had a mental picture of his position, George stretched out beside him, laying her head on his shoulder, her hand resting on his chest. Jack's outstretched arm settled around her shoulders. He smelled good.

"I didn't mean to wake you," George said. And that didn't sound quite right. "I mean--I didn't want you to wake up and find me gone, either." Damn, this was hard. It would help if she knew what she wanted to say, but she wasn't sure.

"Last night was..." she said. "I mean, I had fun." (Shit.) "And...and, it would be fun again. I mean, you know, if you wanted."

Jack laughed. "George, like I'm gonna say no. You're great. Uninhibited, with a side of sweet and sassy. And I had a lot of fun last night as well. I'll stick around for a while, until you get sick of me, anyway. Or until we decide otherwise."

This was the twenty-first century after all. He hoped George hadn't read any promises here. But then she hadn't seemed to. In fact, her question suggested that she wasn't expecting any promises.

"So let's go get something to eat, hmm?? Maybe a shower as well. I mean, we got all clean last night, but then promptly got dirty again." Jack sat up.

George was a lovely girl, wonderful spirit. He only hoped he wasn't using her for his own sick reasons. It had occurred to him the attraction had partly been her job at first. Because he could be a perverse and sick fuck at times. But he was pretty sure he wouldn't do that to a person. At least not within the last four years.

No, when he decided to actually take George up on her offer, he was fairly sure it was more about George, herself.

"I think we need something more than toast though," he commented as he felt around for his pants.

Her eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness. It wasn't actually pitch black in here after all. Light leaked under the door from the corridor, enough to navigate by now. Enough to see Jack as he sat up and searched for his pants.

Enough for Jack to possibly see the goofy grin on her face. George turned her head away, to hide how much his response pleased her--and relieved her. Jack wasn't going to run off. Like Trip. It wasn't like this was true love or anything, it was just for fun--but it was enough fun that she'd like to do it again. (And so does Jack. Yay!)

George almost asked whether Jack wanted breakfast first, or a shower. But she'd heard his stomach growl, and her had too. Food first, even if it meant enduring more applause.

"They've got bacon and eggs in the kitchen right."

OOC: You can reply here or we can adjourn back to the kitchen thread. Your call.

I'm trying to write listening to John Barrowman's special at Kennedy Center on YouTube and I'm trying to resist having Jack break into song. LOL. That man has SUCH a gorgeous voice.

George and Jack make reentry in the kitchen thread here. (http://community.livejournal.com/crossing_lostrp/117713.html?thread=3783377&style=mine#t3783377)

[George] The Morning After

[Jack] Doesn't Come in Pill Form

[George] Now what?

[Jack] Flirting with

[George] Good answer

OOC: Kitchen sounds good to me.

[George] Smoke me a kipper...