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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[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."

[trigger_man]

He's about to ask if she's sure, as she seems pretty comfortable there, but doesn't. She's obviously sleepy, and better she sleep in a bed than on the couch. Besides, he can't imagine actually getting any sleep if he's lying there alone.

"Okay. You sure you don't want to go grab something to sleep in?" he says. He squeezes her hand, then stands, still holding her hand so he can help her to her feet.

[fanofthegenre]

"I've slept in my clothes before," she insists. Ironically, this is one of those times where she's not sure she's going to be able to get much sleep, even after she sobers up.

She uses his grip to help herself to her feet, swaying a little before she steadies.

[trigger_man]

He knows she can probably steady herself on her own, but reflexes kick in as she wobbles and he places his other hand on her hip to help steady her.

"You okay?" he says in the split second before realizing how close they're standing.

[fanofthegenre]

Her smile is sleepy, worn, and her other hand lingers on his shoulder.

"Tired," she murmurs, by way of explanation, her palm shifting up to rest along the side of his neck, feeling his pulse under the heel of her hand.

[trigger_man]

He leans slightly into her touch, comforted by it. It's not what he was expecting; no one's touched him like this in years, and he would have thought that someone touching his throat would have brought on flashbacks of a similar movement that was less gentle.

Instead, he has the feeling that he doesn't want to pull away.

"Then we should probably get you to bed," he says, though he doesn't start moving in that direction.

[fanofthegenre]

She searches his face for a moment, her own expression clouded under a furrowing brow, but when she finally does move, her hand slips away, her arm falling back down to her side as she nods once, decisively.

"Good plan," she says, more decisively, and heads in that direction, even as she tries to blame the heat in her face solely on the drinks.

[trigger_man]

Jack follows her, turning on a lamp next to the bed before turning toward the closet.

"Go ahead and get comfortable; I'm going to change."

[fanofthegenre]

"Okay."

She only goes as far as sitting on the edge of the bed to tug off her boots, unclipping her badge from her hip, and then settles in, drawing her knees up to her chest, one arm sliding beneath the pillow to prop it up slightly.

[trigger_man]

Jack walks out of the bathroom a minute later, dressed in pajama pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt. Conventional wisdom would say that he should stay dressed, just in case, but with the way things are going he doesn't think it'll matter that much if he has to take ten seconds to toss on a pair of jeans later.

"Comfortable?" he asks, climbing into bed beside her.