OOM: Night Before the Allpocalypse

[trigger_man]

 It's quieter in the upstairs hallway, and there's less evidence of impending disaster up here. It's almost enough to allow you to forget what's going on downstairs, or to write it off.

Almost. Not quite.

Jack turns to Beckett as they reach his room.  "You want to come in for one more drink?"

He doesn't want to say it out loud, but there's a part of him that doesn't want to be alone just yet.

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[fanofthegenre]

"You've helped with plenty," Beckett insists, her voice quiet.

"Really, I don't - I don't know how to thank you."

[trigger_man]

"The best way to thank me is don't," he says with a slight smile to soften the comment. "It's not like the favors have been all one-sided. You've helped me a lot of times too."

[fanofthegenre]

"Well, I can't not thank you," she replies, giving him a look over the rim of her glass.

"So now we're at an impasse."

[trigger_man]

"Not much of one. Besides, I owe you as much thanks as you do me. How about we just say we're mutually grateful for each other?"

[fanofthegenre]

"I can live with mutual," she replies, idly tapping her index finger against her glass before polishing off the contents in a few sips.

"It's better than the alternative."

[trigger_man]

"The alternative?" he asks, taking a sip of his drink.

[fanofthegenre]

"Not having it be mutual?" she replies, raising an eyebrow as her mouth quirks in a slow grin.

[trigger_man]

"If it wasn't, would we even be friends, though?" he says.

[fanofthegenre]

"Maybe," she replies, still fighting back the full force of her grin.

"I've been told I'm a very friendly person."

[trigger_man]

"So you're just that irresistible?" he asks, teasing.

Then, his voice turning a little more wry, he adds, "Guess in my case it would just be a good thing I'm so naturally charming."

[fanofthegenre]

"Well, irresistible may not be the word I'd use," she replies lowly.

"You're the one who brought that into the conversation."

[trigger_man]

"Imperfect word choice, then. Blame a lack of sleep and the alcohol."

[fanofthegenre]

"Fine, fine, do-over," she murmurs, her cheek slipping off her hand to rest against the couch cushions instead.

"Pick another word."

[trigger_man]

"Mmmm...persuasive? I think 'persuasive' would work."

[fanofthegenre]

"I'll take persuasive," she agrees, muffling a yawn with the back of her free hand.

[trigger_man]

"And tired, by the look of it."

[fanofthegenre]

"Aren't you?"

She lifts her head, pushing hair back from her face.

[trigger_man]

"Kind of; I think I'm stuck between being tired and having too much adrenaline in my system to actually sleep, though. If you want to get some sleep, though, go ahead."

Even as he says it, though, he realizes that deep down he doesn't really want to be alone tonight.

[fanofthegenre]

"I don't even know if I'll be able to sleep," she admits, once the realization strikes.

She makes no move to get up right away, though she does set her glass to one side.

[trigger_man]

"You can just stay here, if you want. I'm not going to kick you out."

[fanofthegenre]

"No? That's nice of you."

She curls in on herself a little more.

"Maybe I'll just relax right here."

[trigger_man]

Jack puts his glass down on the coffee table and leans against the back of the couch.

"Sounds like a good idea. Certainly a comfortable place to do it."

It is comfortable, the quiet of the room around them, having Beckett nearby. It's an almost peaceful way to wait for the world's end. It's probably closer to the ideal way than he could have ever expected to get.

[fanofthegenre]

She lifts her head after a few moments, blinking her eyes open to look over at him.

"You're not going to stay out here with me all night, are you? It's not all that comfortable."

[trigger_man]

Jack doesn't answer for a moment, hesitant to tell her that he doesn't want to be alone. He's not afraid of what's coming; he's been too close to death too many times for that, and ever since the day he came in here, he's been waiting for the day that something would take him out.

But that doesn't mean he wants to sit here or lie in his bed and watch the hours of the night pass, all alone.

Then again, if there's any time he should be able to be honest and vulnerable with Beckett, it's now.

"I want to stay out here, with you."

[fanofthegenre]

Her heart feels heavy in her chest, but only in the way that makes her swallow thickly, overcome by the sudden swell she experiences at the sound of his admission.

She reaches out to him instead of answering right away, her hand closing over his.

"Come on." Her voice is soft, thick with the alcohol. "Bed it is, then."