OOM: Beckett's Room

[trigger_man]

 [After this.]

Jack makes a quick pit stop in his room to change into dry clothes, already feeling the burn on his skin as it warms up again.

Heading back out into the hall, he hesitates for a second outside Beckett's door.  After the awkwardness of him falling on top of her--and neither of them moving for a moment--this might not be the best idea.  But then he'd told her he'd be there in a moment, as as much as part of him has misgivings about it, there's part of him that wants to show that whatever that moment outside had been, it was just an aberration; nothing to see here, move along.

Taking a breath, he raps decisively on her door.

Comments

[trigger_man]

"It isn't. But it won't help if it's keeping you awake at night, either." He looks at her carefully. "It isn't keeping you up, is it?"

[fanofthegenre]

"I'm sleeping fine," she replies.

Which is close enough to the truth, at least.

"I've got more knots than nightmares keeping me up, if anything."

[trigger_man]

"Knots?" Jack asks.

[fanofthegenre]

"You know, tension. But it's what I get for sitting around a desk for half of my day and chasing bad guys the other half."

She shrugs, flashing a brief smile.

"Too bad insurance doesn't cover a personal masseuse at the precinct."

[trigger_man]

Jack hesitates for a moment, then nods toward her with his chin. "If you turn around, I could do it. I"m guessing it's in your shoulders and your back?"

It's a way to repay her for being there for him, at least.

[fanofthegenre]

"How'd you guess?" she says, rolling her eyes, but starts to turn anyway.

"You sure? I'm not above paying for a professional."

[trigger_man]

"Experience. And I don't mind, though I might be a little out of practice."

It's certainly easier for him to put his hands on her, other than the other way around. Particularly when she's not looking at him.

[fanofthegenre]

"If it gets too bad, I'll stop you," Beckett jokes.

She draws her hair to one side and exhales, releasing some of the starter tension from her shoulders to let them slump slightly.

[trigger_man]

"Just let me know if I'm pressing too hard."

He has to admit to feeling a little nervous as he places his hands on her shoulders, starting to work slow circles over her upper spine and shoulder blades with his thumbs.

[fanofthegenre]

"Nope, it's - "

She draws in a breath, then releases it again, shoulders gradually yielding under his hands.

"Good," Beckett finally finishes. "It's good."

[trigger_man]

"Good," Jack says, softly.

There's a moment of silence in which he debates whether he wants to mention what he's thinking about. Then again, with everything he's opened up about already he might as well go for broke.

"I got pretty good at this, as my wife worked in graphic design and she'd be hunched over a drawing table or a computer all day."

[fanofthegenre]

She turns her head - not by much, just enough to be able to hear everything he's saying, her brow knitting in thought as she silently mulls over his words.

"You were married," Beckett murmurs, and it's less of a question so much as it is just a restating of the truth he's just told her.

[trigger_man]

"Yeah, for about sixteen years. She died almost ten years ago," he says, working on a knot in her right shoulder.

Ten years in three months from now, he realizes. It feels longer.

[fanofthegenre]

If Beckett tenses, it's only partly to do with the knot he's discovered.

She turns her head again, to speak.

"I'm sorry."

[trigger_man]

Jack shakes his head, then realizes she might not be able to see it.

"It's okay; it's been a long time. You know what it's like."

He still misses Teri, still wishes it could have been him instead of her. But it doesn't hurt as much; partly because he learned to cope with it and found love again. Partly because a hundred other hurts have come in between him and losing Teri.

Not that he's ever entirely stopped thinking that it's his fault Teri died. The first name in a long list of people that got hurt or killed because of him.

[fanofthegenre]

"I do."

Unconsciously, she reaches for the ring dangling on the chain around her neck, partly hidden beneath her shirt, fingers toying with the band.

"It gets easier, after a while. It hurts less."

[trigger_man]

"Yeah, it does. Feels a lot longer than ten years, anyway."

[fanofthegenre]

She drops the ring, letting it swing back down under her shirt, and tries to relax again, letting herself move with the kneading of his hands.

"I know how you feel."

[trigger_man]

"Yeah, I know you do. Kind of comes with the territory. With all the things we've seen, it seems like there's more packed into a year for us than for other people."

[fanofthegenre]

She cracks a smile, briefly.

"Don't I know it. If anything, we totally deserve the access to this bar, just to ensure time stops for us every now and then."

[trigger_man]

"Oh yeah. A place where nothing goes wrong and everything's peaceful so we have a chance to unwind."

Sarcasm much?

[fanofthegenre]

"Hey, I don't know about you, but this right here? Is a really good place to start."

She might be biased, seeing as how she's on the receiving end, but details.

[trigger_man]

"Remind me of that the next time there's some kind of weird flu going around, or Bar decides to dress everyone up in costumes."

[fanofthegenre]

"Flukes in an otherwise very enjoyable time," Beckett declares.

[trigger_man]

"Uh-huh. Flukes. Though I guess if you want to go off the grid, this is about as far off as you can go."