Wednesday, October 10th, 2012 -- evening

It had been one of those nice busy days that Jackie enjoyed lately. The busier she was, the less likely it was for her mind to wander. A wandering mind often led to nothing but trouble for the blonde. After a shift at the Busted Knuckle she was off to the grocery store to stock up the kitchen so the weekend could be spent properly partying and celebrating the upcoming Toxic Shocks win over The Jersey Devils.

It was while at the store that her mind started to wander as usual. To the usual things... mostly Ben. It was a battle to keep heavier topics off her mind and they were all tempered with her devising a small plan. Something easier to focus on Ben related.

This is what led to Jackie pulling up in front of Ben's apartment complex. She climbed down out of her old faithful Betty Ford truck and hoisted two large brown grocery bags onto her hips. A kick of her boot sent the door swinging shut after her and she went sauntering towards his door.

She obviously hadn't changed after her shift at the knuckle. A pair of dark denim jeans tattered and torn were topped off by a black leather vest that zipped up the front and dipped down low. At least it was a damn good night for tips and they went towards the gifts she came bearing. No hands free, a black cowboy boot was lifted, the side of it thumping loudly against Ben's door.

Ben's not expecting anybody, and besides Jackie, he's pretty sure nobody knows where he lives (not that that means a whole lot, that he knows he hasn't told anyone). Still, he's only looking a little bit apprehensive when he pulls the door open, day-off casual as usual in jeans, a tee, a half-zipped hoodie -- and all that apprehension is gone when he sees her, leaving him looking pleasantly surprised instead. "Hey." Don't mind him when his gaze falls from her face to her cleavage for just a second. At least he's trying to play it off like he didn't just do that, like he was just shifting his attention when he went to take one of the bags from her, or offer, at least. "You're a nice surprise. What're you doing here? --not that I mind." Whether she handed over one of the bags or not, he's stepping back then, opening the door the rest of the way so she can come in.

She had been tipping her gaze this way and that while waiting for him, but the moment the door opened she was gazing back up at him and smiling wide. "Evenin', darlin'." Don't worry, Ben. That had been the name of the game all day long at the Knuckle so Jackie was absolutely immune to noticing dipping eyeballs. Instead she was happily hoisting one of the bags off her hip and into his grasp. It was rather heavy, feeling like it had a layer of cans on the bottom topped off by even more food, all different varieties. "Well, an' don't get mad at me fer oversteppin' or nothin', but I was at the store an' figured I'd pick up a few thangs for yah. I know how yah guys can get left tah shop on yer own, meanin' not at all. I done this sorta stuff fer Rhett, Colt, an' even Ford when they all got their own places." When he opened the door further she was stepping inside, still cradling the other bag against her hip.

"Oh, Jackie.." He's certainly not mad for her having overstepped, but predictably, he's sort of embarrassed about it -- maybe not the gesture, but that she was completely right that it would be a good idea for her to do it. "Thank you." He knows she'll tell him not to mention it; blame it on his Canadianism that he's compelled to say it anyway. "You didn't have to do this." Once she's inside Ben's shutting the door, and then he's heading to the kitchen, setting the bag he's got down on the counter so he can start unpacking it. "Now I really owe you dinner." It's sort of a tease, if the way his smile hooked a little more crooked than usual was any indication.

"Oh, Ben.." She's replying in an airy 'don't mention it' tone. At least she didn't flat out tell him to not thank her. She was used to it by now. She followed him into the kitchen and set her bag down on the counter as well. She was pulling out milk, apples, veggies, the cans at the bottom seemed to be rich soups and thick stews fitting for the fall. "I know I didn't have tah do it, but if I didn't who was?" She tugged the fridge open to put the groceries away, pausing long enough to eye what she assumed was still a bare fridge then look back to him. Her expression said 'toldja so'. Into the fridge the food went. "I know yah do. That's why I bought yah stuff tah make spaghetti." At least she had taken the initiative to even the playing field between them so he felt more comfortable accepting the groceries.

"Hey, what, like I can't do it?" But oh, yes, the fridge was still practically empty, and that toldja so face she made at him was completely deserved. He's sighing then, rolling his eyes, like that's somehow unfair or not his fault, but then he's dropping the difficult act. Since she's already in the fridge, he just starts handing her things to put away there.

It's a good thing that she at least gave in that much; his smile softens a little when she does. "Alright then. Good." Quiet for a short moment, before, "How'd your day go? You want a drink or anything while you're here?" Maybe trying to gauge if she was just dropping things off or if she was going to stay for a little longer.

"I know yah can do it. I jus' did it faster than you." Once he drops the difficult act she's no longer poking at him. She's steadily taking the groceries to tuck them into place. Lunchmeat, cheese, mustard. By the time they finish it's still not overflowing with food, but he has something to eat and that leaves Jackie with a satisfied sigh.

"It was alright. The crowd wasn't so bad. Actually, they were mighty good. Friendly as hell an' I made m'self some decent bank fer it bein' a Wednesday." The fridge was closed and she shook her head. "Nah, I'm alright fer now." No drink, but the way she took a lean back against the nearest counter made it seem she wasn't ready just yet to run out. "Whatta 'bout you? Yah put more thought into what yer gonna do post-SPI?"

Even if he had gone grocery shopping on his own, he still wouldn't have stocked up this well. He's been on his own for a few years now, and he still hasn't gotten into that habit. "Well, you know. Maybe your hair looks extra nice today or something." Grinning at her, lopsidedly, he's leaning back against the counter across from her. It's not a very big kitchen, and she's close enough that it's easy for him to reach out, prod her shin with sock-covered toes. It's just something idle, and his smile does fade when she asks her last question -- not into anything sullen, but more neutral, sort of pensive. "A little. I mean..." He's rubbing at the back of his neck for a few seconds. "I thought about it. Didn't come up with anything that sounds too promising. It was kind of a rough day." The way he says it, it's not heavy, not avoidant. Sort of matter of fact. "Just wasn't around much. Uh-- I don't know, I'm sure there's plenty I could do. Join the Watch or something. --hey, maybe I could come work with you. Be a bouncer." Clearly kidding, because that grin's back, even if it's not quite as wide this time around.

"Oh yeah, I got a lil' extra bounce goin' on." She gave her own knowing grin and a playful lift of her brows. A glance down to his toe then back to his face. Her own smile faded along with his, a slow nod given. "Does it seem like yah been around more or less lately?" A curious question and an odd one at that. It wasn't often Jackie outright asked about Ben and his boys, but there it was. "I hear the Watch 'round here is a mess. An' I don't mix business with pleasure so the Knuckle is outta the question too." She smiled ear to ear and nudged his shin with her foot in return. "You'll figure somethin' out." A wiggle of her boot side to side. "I should take off m'shoes. 'Less I was interruptin' somethin' an' I should head out?" She had to remember that was always a possibility. The fact that he might not want her around, especially since she dropped by unannounced.

"Extra bounce," he's repeating quietly, amused. He's avoiding that curious question at first, even though it's an easy enough answer. "I'll figure something out, I know. I'm not worried." And he really wasn't -- he could pick up odd jobs, be a little less scrupulous if he had to.

He's watching her prod him in the shin, then he's pushing away from the counter, though he's not going anywhere just yet. "No, not interrupting anything. I was just gonna stay in tonight, take it easy. --so yeah, take 'em off." It might almost seem like he's intending on not answering that question from earlier at all, but after a pause, a half moment of quiet, steady eye contact, he does. "Less. Lost a lot today -- most of the middle of the day. A few hours at a time the past few days, too." He's shrugging, looking away then, slouching back against the counter again.

"Mhmmm..." It was a breathy sound of agreement when he spoke of extra bounce. Then just as quickly she was speaking seriously again. "I ain't worried 'bout yah bein' okay. Yer too damn stubborn tah let anythin' get yah down."

She holds the eye contact with him, waiting quietly and patiently. Not her strong suits, but she manages. "Do y'know who it is? Why they're doin' so much an' why they ain't lettin' yah ride shotgun?" She pushed off the counter and stepped towards him, her palm patting him gently on the chest. "Keep talkin', I jus' wanna kick off mah boots." Sure enough she was moving to the front door to slip one boot off after the other.

A couple of seconds after she leaves the kitchen, he's following her out of the room too, but he's going to the living room instead. At least he's managed to track down a TV; he's turning it on when he takes a seat on the couch, just for a little bit of background noise, turning it down to almost muted, and he doesn't change the channel from the sports recaps he'd last been watching (though at least it's nothing he cared about right then, nothing distracting). "I'm not sure who it is. I've been waking up here almost every time, but I know I wasn't here the whole time. And once I came to on the other side of town, just... you know, on the street. Nobody else nearby, no idea what I was doing there." Only a little, tiny bit ... concerned? It's way too mild of an emotion to be truly disturbed or anxious.

He's at least waiting until she gets back from taking off her boots before he goes on. "I don't know why it's for so long recently, but it's just... you know, it's part of the process. Working through something." Strangely vague about that, considering how open he is about everything else. "I've been doing a lot of thinking about it, and I think nobody lets me because..." Words seem to fail him for a moment; he hates having to refer to those other parts of himself as them; referring so directly to them makes them so much more real. "They don't trust me." There's something funny about that to him, in the worst way, and that off humor shows up in his expression, the bare hint of a smile, and one that doesn't last. "I need to do more than just say how it's going to be or say 'trust me.' So I've been working on that."

It doesn't take her long to slide her boots off and shortly after she's joining him in the living room. She seats herself next to him on the couch and draws her legs up onto it. They're tucked beneath her indian style and hands are folding in her lap.

She's distantly glancing at the television, but a second later she's turning her head to look at him. "I don't know how yah do it." Not that he had a choice. "Well, I guess it ain't no worse than wakin' up in the garden." It was a poor attempt at a joke paired with a weak smile and shrug. "Maybe try writin' to 'em like yah did before? That seemed tah work. 'Less yah already did. Yah probably did." She didn't miss his vague statement. "Somethin'?" Of course she couldn't let that go. By time he finishes she's reaching aside to give him an encouraging pat on the leg. "Yah only jus' started the ridin' shotgun thang. Can't be surprised it's gonna take time. All of it is. I jus' want yah safe while they're doin' these extra long rides. But yer workin' on it. That's all anyone can ask of yah, sweetheart."

"What choice do I have?" He's still looking in the direction of the TV when he says it, though he's not really watching. His tone isn't sad when he says it, but there's something sad about it nonetheless. Because it's true -- he doesn't have a choice. "Waking up in the garden?" He's turning to look at her then, angling his body only slightly toward her. Just enough to see her easily, no more than that. Something must click after a few seconds, because he's smiling too, a little wan as well, though less weak than hers had been. "Oh. I guess not." He'll go along with it, her joking. It makes things easier.

"I tried. Nobody's talking. I, um... Remember how I told you that eventually, I should be able to do it without writing, and just do it all..." Trailing off, gesturing with a little wave of his hand toward his head. "I'm trying to sort of set that up. It's just sort of ... difficult." It's not often he admits to things being difficult. He reaches over to take her hand in his after she pats his leg, and while he doesn't exactly let go after he squeezes it lightly, he does loosen his grip enough that it would feel natural for her to let go if she wanted. "But if I can do that, if I can ... get acquainted with everyone, then ... that'll help. I can work on the trust, and then work on shotgun and everything else."

"Well, the choice yah got is how yer gonna handle it. How yah been handlin' it all 'long. There are some people that couldn't do it as good as yah do. Yah get up every mornin' and yah decide yer gonna do thangs yer way the best yah can. It's more than other people can say. And drink, drank, drunk." That was all the explanation he got for the garden question, but isn't that all he needed anyway?

After he adjusts himself and takes her by the hand she's countering. Her head is tipping aside to rest on his shoulder, listening to him as he speaks even if she's looking ahead. Her hand stays in place as well, the pad of her thumb running back and forth slowly along his knuckles. "Y'got a plan, sweetheart. It's a big step in the right direction. Until then if they continue takin' these extended trips I don't want yah tah hesitate in callin' me if need be. If yah end up somewhere, need a ride or whatever."

"I guess so." He knows so, he knows that's true. It's sort of fitting that her explanation of being drunk comes right afterward -- he could so easily just slip back into that more permanently, couldn't he? "I just try to keep going." Some days that's all he can do, but most days, that's enough.

When she tips her head against his shoulder, he tilts his own so his cheek is pressed to her hair. He's quiet at first, even after she's finished speaking, just letting himself enjoy this for a moment, the closeness, the comfort -- not just of her being here at all, but the feeling that she really wants to be. It's not quite another squeeze, but once it's clear she's not letting go just yet, his hold on her hand tightens a little. "Yeah, it's a plan. It's a start -- it's more than I've ever had before." At the last thing she says, the offer, he's nodding a little, even though she probably can't see it since his head is tipped against hers, but she'd be able to feel the slight movement. "I'll call you if I need anything. Promise. Try not to worry?" A question, because he knows it's not that easy, just say don't worry and she won't.

"That's all yah can do, sweetheart. Keepin' at it." She's keeping her voice low, trying to not disturb the quiet and calm between them. It was nice after a long, loud day at the bar. Though, even without that preempting it she was sure she would still be content sitting here. "See? Yer makin' steps everyday, sweetheart. It's somethin' to be proud of. I know I'm proud of yah." She might have told him before, but she found nothing wrong with reminding him. Her grasp tightened in return, her thumb still brushing his knuckles from side to the side. "I can tell yah I won't worry, but it's gonna be a lie. I'm always gonna think 'bout yah when yer not 'round, wonder where yer at an' if yer okay. It's the same sorta worry I got fer all the people I care 'bout. Colt, Rhett, Ford, Chey, Mama, Daddy. Alla them an' everyone else." It wasn't meant to be a statement that brushed the feelings aside, lumped him in with the crowd. Really, considering what high regard Jackie held her family in it was saying a lot.

Ben doesn't tell her, like he had before, that what he's been doing is nothing to be proud of. He still doesn't entirely believe it himself, that what he's doing is anything to be proud of, but he's trying to believe her. Trying to be a little kinder to himself.

He doesn't take her including him in that list lightly -- quite the opposite, really. It means a lot, too much for him to really process right then without too much emotion welling up. Family's everything to Jackie, and Ben knows that. He can't decide on what to say to that right away; it takes another quiet moment before he figures something out, and he's turning his head enough to brush a kiss to her hair before speaking. "I know it'd be a lie. Just try not to worry too, too much, then." That doesn't sound like as much of a stretch as asking her not to worry at all. Comparing recently to how she'd been around him at times before, she either did worry less, or she'd just learned to hide it better. Leaning his head against hers again, "Did you need to get home soon, or did you want to stay a little longer? We could watch a movie or something."

It was a good thing he didn't try to fight her on it right now. Jackie wouldn't have let any opposition go quietly into the night, but for right now she was too content leaning against him in peace to battle. Even in reply to the kiss brushed to the top of her head all she could manage was a faint 'Mmm' humming against her lips. It was only when he actually spoke to her that she mustered up an actual verbal reply. "I'll try tah not worry too much. I trust yah." It was the others she wasn't really sure about, but that wisely went unvoiced. Jackie was reaching a point when she knew she couldn't punish Ben for his company. It was unfair to him as it was, being given that lot in life. Why drag the suffering of it out further?

"Nah, I ain't gotta go home. I wouldn't much mind a movie or jus' relaxin'." She tipped her head, trying to not disturb him, but enough so she could look up at him with her forehead beneath his temple now. "Silly question, but yah wouldn't by chance have a shirt I could borrow or somethin' wouldja? I like this top plenty, but yah might be surprised tah find out it ain't quite the best fer kickin' back on the couch." She gave a pat to her stomach against the smooth surface of the leather.

Jackie doesn't need to say it in order for Ben to think it -- it isn't him he's worried about her trusting or not -- but he doesn't say it either. Why bring it up and ruin this little illusion of normalcy with that kind of negativity? He's all too eager to move on from the candid conversation about how things are going with him and his boys, even as relatively painless as it had been.

When she turns her head, he doesn't move at first -- not until she asks her question. There's a little bit of very brief, very slight surprise that flickers over his features -- or even not quite surprise. Just not something he's expecting. She wouldn't be able to see it anyway, but she would be able to feel that just as brief squeeze of her hand. "No, that isn't a silly question." He's brushing a ghost of a kiss high up on her cheekbone when he sits up, and his eyes are drawn to the movement of her hand against her stomach, the soft leather she's patting, but only for a couple of seconds, and then he's glancing up to her face again, giving her a smile. "I'll get you something."

Monday, October 15th, 2012 -- evening

She had already been close to the park by time the Ben texted her back that he would meet her there. It was only when she was sitting on the same swing she had perched on the last time they met here that she took a moment to ponder over what sort of assumption had moved her to come here before a confirmation. The idea that if she asked, Ben would find a way to come.

Her head was dipped forward, brown eyes directed at the toe of her boot which dug into the soft earth beneath her. It caused blonde locks to form a curtain hanging from the crown of her head. She was briefly thankful for her jeans and brown leather jacket over top the cream colored halter she wore at work earlier in the day. It kept the bite of the chilled night air away, keeping her from suffering through her impatience.

By this time of day -- or evening, by now -- the park was empty, unlike the last time Jackie and Ben had met up here. But, at least for Ben, it's a calm sort of quiet, one that he's reluctant to disturb, so he doesn't say anything when he's close enough to holler out a hello; even when he claims the swing next to her, he doesn't say anything other than a quiet, "Hey." Dressed no differently than he has been lately, in jeans and beat up boots, a tee and a hoodie under the half-zipped black jacket he wore.

Her head had lifted at the sound of bootsteps, brown eyes following his movements through a few stray locks of blonde. It was at his greeting that a slow smile eased across her lips. One hand released a chain, lifting to tuck her hair back from her face. "Hey there, sweetheart." She was looking him over, a slow rise and dip of her gaze before attention was on his face again. What was she looking for? Hard to tell. "I appreciate y'comin' out on such short notice."

He's smiling too, once he sees hers. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't just a little bit, a tiny bit concerned about whatever she needed to talk about, only because that just didn't seem to happen often, or ever, anymore, that Jackie said she needed to talk to him about something -- which made Ben think this might be a certain kind of talk, and one that, admittedly, he had been happy avoiding for the past couple of weeks -- but the smile is at least a little bit reassuring.

He's actually glancing down at himself once he realizes she's looking him over, and there's a little lift of one brow when his attention is on her again. What? But he's still smiling, and in fact, it's gone a little bit crooked. "Sure, it's no problem. I didn't have anything planned. What did you need to talk about? Everything alright?" If he was still anxious about this conversation, it doesn't show, but that was thanks to years of practice.

She had been in the same boat, happy to float along without discussing details. Content to continue on with how they had been this last week or so. Things had been so good, but how long could they really continue on like that without a word?

His expression of 'What?' is met with a little shrug, the smile briefly turning sheepish before softening back into place. "Everythin' is alright. Everyone is fine, nothin' is wrong. Sorry, I guess I shoulda toldja that t'not get yah worried none." Her boot dug into the ground to turn her swing, angling it to face him. "I jus'... wanted tah talk 'bout us." The dreaded words. So small and hard to get out.

Oh, those words. He takes one deeper breath, lets it out in a quick exhale. Steeling himself up for this, most likely -- though, shouldn't he have been doing that for the past however-long-it-had-been? After a little bit of a pause, he turns his swing to face her, too -- and they're similar to how they'd been that one afternoon a couple of weeks ago, though not as close, not touching. Ben meets her eyes for a few seconds, and it's that quiet kind of assessing he falls into sometimes, sizing somebody up -- but then he's looking away briefly, nodding, and when he lifts his gaze again, the eye contact is much more natural. "Okay. I guess ... we probably should, shouldn't we?"

A hand is drawn from the chain, fingertips brushing against the curve of her own bottom lip thoughtfully. Watching him while he seems to ready himself for whatever it was she was about to say. There was knit of her brows with the way he's looking at her at first, pushing her slightly towards the defensive from the start. A look away and when his gaze meets hers again it's a sign that she can relax, just a little. "We should." A stern nod of agreement that she wished she felt in the rest of her body and mind. "I... guess I barely know where tah start." Her head dipped aside, her gaze seemingly trying to find the words that were eluding her right now.

That look is something he really should learn how to temper, but in situations like these, higher stress, where he really feels like he needs to be sure of how he's reading someone -- he's not so good at hiding it. But that level of intensity seemed to be gone now, leaving him just as much at a loss for words as Jackie. It's not really a laugh, just a quiet little almost-amused noise, at the last thing she says -- maybe the situation in general. Maybe it's spurred on by nerves. Probably both. "So you asked me to come meet you to talk and you haven't rehearsed it a hundred times yet?" It's a quiet, soft tease, and he's moving forward to nudge his knee lightly against hers, though the contact is brief and doesn't last. "Take all the time you need," a little more quietly. He's been waiting weeks already -- what's another couple of minutes?

The sound that comes from him, the question that follows. It leaves her scoffing and giving her own chuckle despite herself. "Darlin', do I really seem like the type tah think that far ahead an' have that sorta foresight? I... knew I wanted to talk to yah so I texted yah." A little shrug, a push of her swing to nudge his knee in return. "I'm a mess. Would yah want me any other way?"

"Okay... Good point." About her not having that kind of foresight. The smile is slight, but it's still there, just a touch amused, despite the topic being attempted. After she nudges his knee, asks that last question, he's quiet for a moment, though eventually he shakes his head just a little. "I don't think you're a mess, sweetheart. But if you are a mess, I guess I like messes."

"That's good then. Real good." It's a little absentminded, her gaze sinking between their knees. It was so hard to tell what she was thinking with her eyes cast downward and her silence lingering on. Finally, there was little to no warning, only a quick inhale and a lift of brown eyes back to his face. "I like the idea of us takin' things slow, Ben. Y'brought it up before. Us... sorta startin' over. I mean, we can't ferget anything that's happened between us. Lord knows I would never wanna. But it don't mean we can't take it easy, really work at this, us, what we got goin' on between us."

The silence that went on was a difficult one, so even though he's actually faintly surprised when she's suddenly looking at him again, he's glad for it -- even more after the first thing she says, after everything she says. Moving just a little closer to her, enough that he can reach for one of her hands, take it between his. "I don't want to forget any of it either." Not even the parts that hurt. Maybe it would just make all this sweeter in the end. Lifting her hand to his mouth to kiss her fingers, but it's just a brief, light thing before he's lowering her hand again. "I think it's a good idea, to go slow. I want to do this right. And I want to work at it, Jackie. I really do. It's worth it to me -- you're worth it to me."

There was no movement to stop him from grasping her hand. In fact, his touch seemed to help relax her even more, driving the idea in the back of her head that this was meant to be something. There's a twitch to the edge of her lips at the kiss to her fingers. She's shifting forward, leaning toward him to speak. "You're worth it tah me, too, Ben. I wanna be 'round yah, wanna be with yah. But..." Oh, buts were never good, were they? "It don't mean I want yah tah stop workin' at yerself like yah have been. Y've been doin' so good, sweetheart, an' I ain't lookin' to get in the way of that." She brushed her thumb against the back of his knuckles, giving a tender squeeze to his hand. "An' in the same breath, I got some things I need tah work on of m'own. Jus'... workin' tah be someone y'can be proud of. Someone I can be proud of."

Buts usually weren't good, but this one wasn't so bad. This one made sense, really. Maybe earlier, weeks ago, a month ago, Ben would have been insulted, defensive by what she says, but now? After what he'd gone through? --what they'd gone through? He understands the concern, and he's just nodding in response; the movement turns into him leaning in a little too, enough that his forehead is almost against hers, just not quite. "I know. I'll keep working at it. You won't get in the way of that."

There's something about the way she phrases her own thing to to work on -- somebody he can be proud of -- that elicits a twinge of something inside. "Hey.." Pulling one hand away from hers (though the other is still holding on, lacing his fingers through hers now), he's laying his hand along one side of her face, meaning to make eye contact with her. "You are somebody I'm proud of already. Everything you've done for me? The things you do for your family? I am proud of you." Before she can protest, he's pressing a kiss to her mouth, lightly, just a brush of his lips against hers, barely a kiss at all -- more just to cut her off if she's going to say anything. "But I know I can tell you I'm proud of you all I want and that it doesn't mean anything until you're proud of you too. And if you need a little push to keep you working on you from time to time ... I'll be there to do it, whenever you want."

That out of the way, he's pulling his hand away from her face, taking her hand between both of his again. "It is important not to lose sight of ourselves in all of this. You're right to mention it. But if we take it slow? I think it'll be fine. I really do."

"I know y'won't, sweetheart. I gotta have faith that yer strong enough tah have me 'round an' still work on gettin' better. It ain't fair fer me to jus'... tell yah what yah can an' can't handle. Yer strong enough tah do it."

Her fingers wrap through his, her cheek tipping into his touch even when her gaze is fully on his. He knows her too well because her lips are indeed parting to add her two cents, but before she can get a word out they're being covered by his. Even when he pulls away and continued speaking her eyelids are dipped closed, taking in all he had to say. "I ain't sayin' nothin' is wrong with the way I am, I jus'... I know I can be better." It was quick and quiet, getting it out before he tried to silence her again. Not that she would complain if it came by kiss again. But it seemed in all the time it took for Jackie to think over Ben, herself, the idea of being together, that she found need for improvement in more than just their relationship.

Her eyes opened when he took her hand, leaning in she closed the distance between them to rest her forehead lightly against his. "I think yer right. I think it's the right way fer us to go. I think the way we were goin'... it was goin' to be so bright, so quick, an' maybe it was a bad path tah be on. Somethin' that would burn out. But I don't wanna do that. I want a steady build." She brushed her lips against his as she spoke. "I want us tah glow."

Ben never would have dreamed in a million years that something like this would ever be happening to him -- sitting on the swings on a crisp autumn night, holding hands with a beautiful girl, listening to her say that she doesn't want whatever's between them to burn out. Telling him she wanted them to glow. Never in a million years.

The way she puts it is so fitting, and it's so something Jackie would say; he can't help but smile before pressing in just that tiny bit more to kiss her, letting it linger, and even when he breaks it, he doesn't go far, leaving his forehead pressed to hers. "It would've been bright, you're right. But yeah, maybe it would've burned out. That's not what I want out of this." He's letting go of her hand then, but just so he can press his hands to her cheeks; his voice had already been quiet, but it softened even further. "I want this to last, Jackie. I want that too, want us to glow."

Her face tipped, her lips meeting his in that kiss where she smiled softly against it in return. When their lips part she's squeezing at his hand again until it's being drawn away to cup her cheek. Her hands are lifted to settle against his forearms, needing to touch him and hold him just as much as he seems to need her right now. Her smile widens when he uses her own wording. Part of her thought it might have been silly, but obviously it wasn't so bad if he was saying it in return. "I know it ain't gonna be easy, Ben. I... I think we got rough spots ahead of us. 'Specially with you losin' time more an' more lately. But I wanna stick 'em out with yah. Yah jus' be honest with me like yah always been an' we'll figure out a way." Her voice dipped lower for the last part. It wasn't as serious sounding as everything else she had said. Not so much trying to make him understand, but an intimate declaration. "Y'got me, sweetheart."

"It never gets old, hearing you say that." His smile goes a little crooked then. "You got me too, you know." One more kiss, and then he's pulling away a little -- not so far that he can't touch her, because he's taking her hands in his again, but enough that he'll maybe stop being so distracted by being so, so close to her. "It won't be easy. I know. But I can be honest with you." The way he says it, it sounds like she's on a very, very short list. "We'll figure it out." He's quiet too, then, moreso than before -- not because he doesn't believe it, but because he does believe it, so strongly. Silent for a few seconds, and then there's just a bare hint of laughter. "I guess now we can just finally go along with whatever everybody else was thinking about us, hm? You heard Chey the other night, didn't you?" He didn't even know about the conversation Jackie'd had earlier that night with Dylan and Katt.

"Well, if I got m'way you'll be hearin' it fer a while, so best yah don't get tired of it." There was a sweet crinkle of her nose in reply to his crooked smile. "I know I do, darlin'." It wasn't a boastful declaration. There was more of a tinge of awe to it than anything. She lingers after him when he pulls away, but when she realizes he's trying to make it easier for conversation she tips backwards in response. Grasping at his hands instead, putting her need for contact between their palms. "We'll figure it out." It sounded like a good plan to her. She's tilting her head this way and that, watching him during his moment of quiet. The faint laughter has her brows rising then she was smiling along with him. "I can't remember if I heard or not. She was sayin' a pack of wild things that night. But I think... everyone else can jus' assume what they want. I ain't workin' to prove nothin' to no one or make a show for 'em." A squeeze to his hands. "This is for us. Jus' us."

He'd meant it mostly as a joke, but the way she addresses it -- that everyone else can assume what they want, that this is just for them -- the crookedness disappears from his smile, and it's just one of those rare, genuine ones instead. Who knows what had done it -- hell, maybe it had been that movie after all -- but this is such a change in her, and one he hadn't been expecting. "I like the sound of that, Peaches, that this is for us."

It's a fitful sort of quiet he falls into for a moment then, but the energy it's full of, it's the good kind. "So... you wanna come over for that dinner I owe you sometime soon? We could dress up a little. Make it a date."

Unfortunately for him it seemed she was a little too geared for this right now, a little too serious to grasp the idea he was kidding. There had been too many opinions, too much advice, and too much information for her to process to back away so easily. At least it was better than her being detached and unaware of what they had. More than likely it would calm down soon enough.

In fact, at the mention of dinner her head was tipping aside thoughtfully, before she was smiling wide. "How 'bout we make it proper? Either Friday or Saturday, sometime this weekend? Tomorrow I'm gonna be goin' out with the girls. Got somethin' else tah look into with Chey either Wednesday or Thursday." She lifted his hand to brush her lips against his knuckles. "I like the idea of the weekend. Means we don't gotta rush, can have all night. An' gives yah plentya time tah plan somethin'. Maybe actually grocery shop?" She gave a little teasing smile.

At her counter-suggestion, he's actually looking thoughtful himself, just for a half a moment, but then he's grinning, letting go of one of her hands to push her knee in retaliation for the tease. "Alright, alright, Friday it is. I'll even shop. Get a bottle of wine for you, make it really classy." And the grin goes a little more lopsided, but she doesn't get much of a chance to see it, because without much warning, he's letting go of her other hand, and all at once, getting up to his feet and grabbing her in a hug, picking her up and actually spinning around once before setting her down slowly, careful. "Girls' night tomorrow, really? How much trouble are you going to get into?"

The push to her knees caused a sway in her body, but she wasn't going far. "I think that sounds like a fine idea. Is this what I gotta do to get y'to go grocery shoppin' on the regular? I might jus' be willin' to take up this challenge if y'say yes." She was grinning herself, but it shifted sharply into a parting of lips and an exhale of a yelp in surprise when he lifted her into the spin. Her arms wrapped around his neck and the sound was followed quickly by a delighted laugh. Even when he places her on her feet she's not releasing him. Her arms have loosened, but she's still just as close and gazing up at him. "Y'know that's too hard t'predict, sweetheart. There's way too many variables that could increase or decrease m'chances of trouble. But if it makes y'breathe a lil' easier I promise not to end up in a drunk tank." This seemed like a fair enough assurance.

At first he's pulling a thoughtful look, sort of serious, like he's not taking her comments as a tease at all. "You know, you're right. If you could make that sacrifice, coming over for dinner a couple times a month, it might keep me from starving the rest of the month." He can't hold the straight face though; he's laughing right after, and he's still smiling when he presses a kiss to her mouth. It doesn't last long, and afterward, he's actually shifting his hold on her to pull her into a tight embrace. One hand in her hair, his cheek pressed to the top of her head, there's something vaguely protective about it -- maybe even a touch possessive? But it's all cut with a sense of relief. He'd just come so close to losing her.

The feeling doesn't last, though, and half a moment later he's loosening up his hold on her, starting to pull away, though his hand remains in her hair and the other lingers at the curve of her hip. "No drunk tank? I thought that was required for a successful Daniels girls' night." But the way he's grinning, he's obviously teasing her. Some of the crookedness fades, but only the tease leaves him; his mood doesn't darken in the least. Quiet a few seconds, just looking at her, and when he finally does pull away completely, it isn't far, because he's reaching for her hand right after. "Walk you home?"

"It don't quite sound like a sacrifice to me. Really it jus' sounds like a good time with yah an' I'm interested in that." She's leaning up into the kiss, staying pressed against him within his grasp even after his lips part from hers. She's obviously more than happy to linger within his arms with her cheek pressed to his chest for a few moments longer. There's only a small ache within her chest when he's pulling away, soothed by his hands still staying within her hair and on her hip. "It usually is, but I think I can skip it fer a night. If I really wanna hang out with a cop after goin' out, I think I got one on standby who'll let me kick back at his place fer a while."

She sinks into a silence similar to his, comfortable. Smiling up at him sweetly and looking more at peace than she had for weeks even during their most relaxed moments. Her hand is slid into his, fingers laced and a squeeze given. "I'd like that."

There are a couple of teasing directions he could've taken her comment about having a cop on standby, but instead of using that opportunity to joke more, he's just smiling. Even when she says she'd like it if he walked her home, he doesn't say anything. There's just a little fidget with her fingers, a slight tug on her hand, and he's starting off in the direction of her house. As calm as things had seemed lately, as good as he'd been, as she'd seemed, as things had felt when they were together, there had always been just that little quiet worry at the very back of his thoughts, some almost-silent sadness, an unspoken (but still dully felt) anticipation, waiting for the fragile thing they had started to build to come crashing down. Having that fear erased felt unbelievable, and this new, real peace -- he was more than happy to let that linger while, hand in hand with her, he walked her home.

Maybe most men would be worried at what Jackie says, that she gets right in the thick of fights -- and maybe Ben does worry some, to an extent -- but he doesn't tell her to be careful or not to do it. He knows that that's just how she is. He's listening to her story, nodding along with it (and now he understood why it had been a given that Jerry wouldn't say anything about Ben's staying with him), even laughing quietly after she finishes playing Dorothy. "I guess..." Trailing off for a second, putting his fork down -- he was just about finished anyway. "I guess we're both kind of overzealous then." There's something quiet about the observation, but it's more than just a statement of a similarity. For whatever reason, that seems to mean something important to him.

He doesn't necessarily feel bad for not telling her that earlier, that his issues had seemed, at least as far as he could tell, to wax and wane over the years, but he does feel like he owes a little bit more of an explanation. "And yeah ... years. I mean, I can't know for sure, right? But I don't think any of this was happening when I was in the military. Not when I went through the Academy or around when I got married." Another shrug, the motion easy, casual. So much of this is easy to talk about with her, and in a way, it's relieving. "Or that's how it seems. Who knows." All he knows is that he's just given himself a lot to think about.

He's giving her plate a quick glance, and unless she waves him off, picking up the bottle of wine to pour a little more into her glass. "You got any plans for the weekend?"

For all of a second she's waiting for him to toss out some sort of warning. To give her a look of disapproval that she's putting herself into more danger than she has to at work by getting between men with angry blood. But it never comes and she's relieved. It means he understands this is the way she is and that might not be changing anytime soon. It was always the nice thing about Ben, one of the things she appreciated most. He was never looking to change her. She's nodding in agreement with his statement, though his thoughts seeming to stay on that subject had her tilting her head. "Is that a bad thing? Both of us bein' like that?"

She's not mad he didn't tell her. That wasn't the case these days so why would it affect her now? But it was still interesting to know. "Well... it's all triggers, ain't it? Fer the most part? An' y'been losin' so much time lately..." She had the next line of thought ready to go long before she actually voiced it. It wasn't something she was sure she wanted to say outloud. "So, somethin' as of late must be triggerin' y'more. Don't y'think?" What had changed lately in Ben's life that lined up with him losing more and more time? Was it her? Brows were still furrowed tightly and she almost missed his refilling her glass. She had continued only take small sips throughout the night to leave herself with a clear head. She was foggy enough as it was around him.

His final question had her blinking out of her thoughts and looking up at him. Her fork was set down again onto her plate which was clean for the most part, but it didn't seem she had room for more. "I got tomorrow off, but no plans t'be honest. Figured somethin' would come 'long. Whatta 'bout you? Y'got somethin' goin' on?"

She's nodding in agreement, and he's shaking his head to her questions. "No, it isn't a bad thing." Even if he's thoughtful about it, they must only be good thoughts, because he's smiling a little, just a touch. "It just makes sense, and I never really thought about it before. But neither of us really half-asses anything, do we?" Except maybe their breakup, after a time.

There's something nice, almost, about listening to her talk about what's going on with him -- explain it, ask questions like that. It isn't as though he thought Jackie didn't take this seriously or make her best effort to understand, but lately, he gets the feeling she understands it almost as well as he does, and that's a major comfort. "Yeah, it's all triggers. And it's stress, I think. I mean, it's both. If I'm not stressing about something, then I can deal with the triggers on my own a little better, maybe? Without... without the help." Even though he'd said it before, to his shrink back in Vancouver, that it wasn't always a bad thing when he blacked out, it was still taking some getting used to to classify what went on with him as helpful. "I think it's just that I'm kind of... I don't know. Addressing it. Really, seriously addressing it. I've never really done that before, right? And it's hard for me, and ... hard for everyone else." Or so he's guessing. At least it's a plausible explanation that Jackie wouldn't feel bad for, right? It doesn't even cross his mind that she could be the cause of it, the increased lost time.

Once she's putting her fork down and seems like she's finished, he's getting to his feet and grabbing both plates to bring back to the kitchen. "No plans," over his shoulder, and the apartment is small enough that it isn't hard for him to keep talking to her even while in the other room. "So if you end up finding anything fun to do," moving back into the living room now, "maybe I could tag along." The grin is that usual lopsided, teasing thing; he's eager to move the conversation back into easy, light territory. "We could go driving..."

"We're both a lil'..." She's trying to find the best word, not so much worried about offending him but rather herself. "Enthusiastic." The way she smiled said it was a term she could live with. "But no, that don't sound like it's really how either of us deal with thangs. Fer better or worse." Chuckles.

Previously Jackie had thought that maybe if they didn't talk about what was happening with Ben, maybe if she didn't see it or experience it, she could carry on like it didn't affect her. Like it wasn't going to be part of her life. But with the way things were going with Ben, how badly she wanted to be part of his life, she knew this had to fit into hers. "Addressin' it. Well, I guess that could be the case. I guess they're so used t'hangin' in back an' only comin' 'round when they're needed that maybe it's jus' as jarrin' fer them? Maybe they're stressed. T'get called out or... somethin'." She was trying, but she did reach a point now and then where she wasn't sure what the hell she was trying to say about it all or how to properly piece together her thoughts on it and put them into words.

She's simmering on it a little longer before giving a smile when he took her plate. "Thank y', sweetheart. Honestly, it was delicious. Now y'just put yerself into a pickle 'cause with me knowin' y'can cook like that? I'm gonna be puttin' in requests." Her wine glass is picked up, swished about, then a small sip is taken. She really should offer to help clear the table, but instead she stayed in place for the same reason as she did before. It was safer this way. "I like the sounda that. How 'bout tomorrow we go drivin' durin' the day an' finish it out here with some movies? Since I can come rightly prepared this time I can bring m'DVD player and we'll figure out what we're in the mood fer from m'movie collection."

Maybe they're stressed. It was actually exactly what Ben had been getting at, so he doesn't try to help her along with the rest of what she seemed to be trying to say. She understood it enough, as much as could be understood.

If she'd offered to help him, he would have told her not to anyway, so it was better that she just stay put, for that reason and more. Once he's ditched the plates in the kitchen, though, he's moving back to the table and taking a seat again. "It's not a problem. That just means more dates." The grin goes a little more crooked then, though it tempers some when she makes her suggestion for what to do tomorrow. "That sounds great, Peaches." Probably just because he's starting to feel those same nerves as when she'd first come over -- because now that they'd finished dinner, then what? -- he's poking her lightly in the ankle with the toe of his shoe. "I think I still owe you some Friday the 13th, don't I?"

For a moment, he's just gazing across the small table at her; the candles are starting to burn low, dim even further, and he just takes the one, quiet moment to admire that, the way she looks by candlelight. But after a moment, he's reaching into the inside pocket of his suit coat, pulling out a thin, longish box, maybe the length of a pen. He puts it down on the table, slides it across to her, wordlessly.

She's idly swishing at her wine in her glass, gazing off at nothing in thought but his return pulls her back to the present. Brown eyes swing around to land on him, track him as he moves, another sweet soft smiling settling on her lips. "Seems like we jus' keep on findin' more an' more reasons tah have countless evenin's like this one. I like it. Maybe we'll jus' call tomorrow a date, too, since they seem to work out intah such nice days fer botha us."

It's the poke of his toe, such a simple teasing act, but that's what begins to draw her playful side out once again. The one that had been shut away all throughout dinner. In reply the inner edge of her foot, heel and all, is dragged along the inner side of his calf. From his ankle to about halfway up before it starts a slow decline again. Then its repeated, slowly. "I believe y'do owe me." Her voice is a little lower, still keeping up conversation while her thoughts seem to be visibly wandering.

Jackie is steadily returning the look to Ben, her lips still curled into an effortless smile aimed right at him. Her foot still keeping up the contact between them beneath the table. Well, that was until he stirs and is sliding a box across the table to her. Her foot comes to a stop, though it's still touching his. Her gaze follows the box and there's an expression of contemplation while she still tries to figure it all out. She has a guess by now, but she doesn't want to make an assumption. Well, she'll make one. "I don't think it's knittin' needles anymore." It's said with a barely there snicker before the glass of wine is exchanged for the slender box. He didn't even say a word, so she's only giving him one last look before she silently opens the box as well to peer inside.

Maybe that's why he chose that moment to distract her with that surprise. The steady contact, the drag of her foot against his leg -- that playful side she'd managed to keep in check during dinner -- and the fact that her thoughts are so obviously wandering -- he's welcoming the contact, even making a quiet little noise on the first slow drag of her upward along his calf -- but Ben wanted to make sure that his own thoughts didn't start wandering too, worse than they already were. Take it slow.

Which, if he was really taking that idea to heart, to take it slow, he probably wouldn't have gotten her jewelry this early on, but he'd actually been considering doing it before they even got back together -- which probably just meant that he wasn't any good at being split up from her, not that this was actually a good idea. Either way, Jackie is right, and it isn't knitting needles inside -- just a silver bracelet with links small enough to be girly, but large enough to accommodate more charms getting clipped on at some point. So far there's only one, just a small little bird in flight. Ben's watching her face, mostly -- he already knows what's in the box, but he has no idea what her reaction is going to be.

It was a smart move on his part if they were going to continue on this slow and steady path. If left unchecked Jackie surely would have taken that small noise from his as a victory. An unintentional invitation on his part and something to try to recreate. It seemed it was going to be a difficult journey with each of them slipping now and then, but thankfully Jackie was too distracted by the little giftbox in hand to let herself sink too much further.

With the top of the box set down on the table she's able to really take in what's sitting in front of her. She takes in the bracelet, the little charm being a bird. It takes one extra second for the realization of it all to dawn on her, crashing down all at once. Her free hand is pressed over her lips, muffling a small sound of amusement at the secret meaning of it all between them. Their very own inside joke. Her eyes were alight, no longer hazy and love drunk but bright and lifted up towards his face. "Ben, it's the sweetest thing... it's a bird." As if he didn't know. She's making another sound of glee, biting at her bottom lip through it. It's when she settles down a few mere moments later that she takes a breath and exhales her official seal of approval, swelling with emotion. "I love it, sweetheart. Thank y'so much." Was that hard to tell?

Fingers are carefully fishing the bracelet out of the box which is set down on the table. She's rising out of her seat with the bracelet cradled in hand and moving around the table to him. There's a little nudge of her knee to his thigh, apparently wanting him to scoot back from the table so she could take a seat closer to him on his lap. All the easier for him to assist, of course. "Will y'help me put it on, please?" The bracelet being offered to him as well.

It really is a good thing, then, because it was a victory for her, wasn't it? And it was an unintentional invitation on his part -- to try to do it again, and maybe try to push it further. This was not going to be easy.

That extra second for her to realize the meaning wasn't easy either. She'd probably just say she liked it, but-- But that isn't a concern of his after it's obvious that it all comes together for her. "Yeah, sweetheart," no teasing in his tone, even though she's stating the obvious, and he's just restating it, "it's a bird." Sometimes it's like there's no better feeling in the world that the one right then, watching her get so excited about something he's done for her; that happiness lingers for him even after she's settling down some. "You're welcome," simply enough. "I'm glad you like it."

Maybe he should've gotten up to go to her to help out, or at least stood up, because her sitting in his lap can't possibly lead to anything good, right? But he just does as she's indicating, pushing his chair back from the table some. Torn between just pulling her down into his lap and keeping some illusion of self control by just helping her to put the bracelet on, he somehow manages to start by doing just the latter. "Yeah, of course," as he's taking the bracelet from her, but if she holds out a hand to him in order for him to put it around her wrist, he's instead taking her by the hand and pulling her down into his lap -- unless she's decided to sit down all on her own before then.

Jackie really does have the best of intentions when she makes the decision she wants to be in his lap right now if he'll have her. She actually does need help with the bracelet, but she also wants to be close to him. To let this moment of warmth linger between them. Rather then simply climbing into his lap like a struck school girl she's giving the bracelet up into his grasp. Her wrist is extended like he assumed and it was a combination of his pull and her desire to be close that are turning her around to ease onto his lap. Her legs are hanging off to the side, crossing at ankle. She's leaning into him, holding her wrist aloft so he can put the bracelet on while she's nuzzling her cheek to his. Close enough so she can speak quietly into the curve of his ear. "I don't jus' like it. I love it. Y'put some tender thought into this an' it's somethin' I'm gonna cherish."

There are a few more quiet thank you's and murmurs of satisfaction mixed in with her lips brushing against his cheek. It's with another turn of her head that she's moving her attention back to her wrist to watch him put the bracelet into place.

They really did need moments like these to last, maybe more than other couples might. They both needed these kinds of memories to stick when times didn't stay as smooth -- maybe Jackie most of all. Right now, though, Ben isn't thinking about that; he's only thinking that he wants her close. Once she's in his lap and murmuring into his ear like that, so close, it's a little difficult to concentrate. "Love, then. I'm glad you love it." Eventually, once she's turned even just that fraction of her attention away from him and to her wrist and the jewelry, he's able to fasten it around her wrist. Right afterward, he puts his arms around her, and now it's his turn to smudge a couple of kisses to her cheek, dragging lazily back toward her ear. "So... that's all I had planned for the night," quiet, and a little muffled against her cheek. "Guess you're gonna want to go home now, yeah?"

Jackie isn't stowing this memory away for a rainy day. She's not thinking about the rough times that most likely wait for them in the near future. She's simply grasping onto this memory because it's sweet, it's tender, and its thoughtfulness is one of the things she likes most about Ben. Nothing is said about the delay of him getting the bracelet around her wrist since she's just as hazy as he is right now. A little struck and so wrapped up in him that he could take all night and she wouldn't get impatient.

When the charm bracelet is fastened and released she's pulling her wrist back towards her, fingers of her free hand toying gently with the little silver bird charm while she's tipping her entire body further into his grasp. There's a smile at his kisses, at it all, but his last question causes it to instantly dim. Her head is turned to look at him, that bottom lip sticking out just barely in a ready to form pout. "Yer not kickin' me out, are y'? I don't wanna go home."

To prove this her arms were draped around his shoulders, fingers lacing behind his neck. Leaning in her nose was brushed against his. "We don't need nothin' planned. We can sit in the livin' room, lookin' good amongst ourselves and jus' talkin'." The threatening pout shifted into a smile, something she hope was persuasive.

"Kicking you out? No, no." Lifting one hand to her cheek, and even though it's just a hint of a pout, he's dragging his thumb lightly over her lower lip anyway. Even when she leans in close to him, he keeps his hand against her cheek -- even after she smiles, and after he erases that little bit of distance left between them to kiss her. "Just talking, hm?"

Apparently something in that had been persuasive (or, truthfully, he hadn't really needed much, or any, persuading), because after that quiet tease he shifts his hold on her, looping one arm under her knees and the other behind her shoulders so he's got her cradled in his arms when he gets up to his feet. "So," quiet, but casual, like it's no big thing that he's carrying her over to the couch, "when you say you want to go home, is it because you don't want to go home? Sick of the dog already?" He's actually putting her down carefully before he takes a seat, so she can choose whether or not she wants to climb back into his lap. Sitting there at the table was one thing; curling up on the couch together was more dangerous. "Or is it because you want to stay here?" It's more teasing, and the little grin at his mouth makes that obvious; he just wants to hear her say she wants to stay.

There's a smile of victory against his kiss and she's repeating his words once he's pulled away. "Just talkin'." Assuring him again softly. At least there doesn't seem to be an extra layer to her words, no deeper meaning or devious intent.

There's a little sound of surprise broken by chuckling when he hoists her into his arms to stand. She hadn't been expecting that at all! Surprises, more surprises. Even one as simple as this, literally getting swept off her feet, was enough to make her glow in the dim light of the candle.

When she's placed onto the couch she's automatically slipping her heels off and letting them drop to the floor with two gentle plops. She enjoyed them and no longer considered them to be enemies, but they weren't needed anymore. "I'm not sick of Mason." A scoff at the thought.

Jackie was a fool for danger so when Ben was settled into the couch she was sliding her way towards him and back into his lap. Her arm is tucked against the side of his chest, her legs stretched out along the couch beside them and bent slightly at the knee. Her free hand is lifted to cup his jaw, opposite of the side her nose is brushing against lightly. Close, intimate, probably asking for trouble. But she keeps the playfulness in her voice to match his. "Yer lookin' fer me to spell it out fer you." She was onto his game, but it didn't stop her from playing along. "I want t'be where you are." The statement finished with her chin lifting, lips being pressed against his jaw in a lingering kiss.

His attention is drawn briefly by her shoes dropping to the floor, but then she's climbing into his lap and he's forgotten all about them. They were both fools for danger, both loved trouble -- they must, or else they wouldn't be doing this. He's tilting his head just slightly into her hand, and his eyes fall most of the way shut. His smile quirks a little more crooked at the first thing she says, but all of that teasing in it disappears when she does go on and spell it out, and his eyes close while her lips are pressed to his jawline.

"Well, that works out then, sweetheart," quiet, and one hand finally sinks into her hair, and the other settles at her hip -- and there's that possessive little curl of his fingers into that curve again. "Because I want you to be where I am, too." He lets go of her hip, but it's only to pull her hand away from his cheek, bring it to his mouth, aim a couple of slow, lazy kisses to her palm. "You're sure your middle name isn't Trouble?" Just a quiet murmur into the palm of her hand -- and like he has any room to talk?

"Mhmm." The sound of approval is humming against her lips like a purr which are still pressed to his jaw. Either it was in agreement that everything was working out or it was in favor of his fingers sinking against her hip. Jackie was independent, her own woman trying to find her path, far from being anything close to a docile sort of girl. But there was something in that move from him, the claim it seemed to put on her, that got her heart racing just a little faster.

Her head is tipping back, lips slowly parting from his jaw so she could actually watch him place those kisses in the center of her hand. It was while she watched that she replied back so casually, just as he had when he had swept her off her feet. "Daddy was gonna try fer Trouble, but he figured I had enough hell t'raise bein' called Jackie Daniels. Went with Lee fer a middle name instead." Was she kidding? Hard to tell since her name did have a bit of a quirk to it and even moreso with how dry her words had been.

Right at the beginning, Jackie had challenged him to keep up with her. Maybe it's little things like that, that little bit of a possessive streak that gets hinted at sometimes, that give him a fighting chance of keeping up with Jackie Lee Daniels, fastest girl in town.

He'd liked that little purr against his jaw -- considered it a victory, really, especially considering she'd gotten an audible reaction out of him just a little bit ago with her foot rubbing up against his leg -- but the casual tone after, he must've taken as a challenge, because he's pressing one last slow, lingering kiss to the inside of her wrist again, and when he lets go of her hand, he's settling his own on the curve of her hip again. "He was right. I think you raise enough hell as it is, Jackie Lee." Not letting on if he thinks she's kidding or not, because he's not really sure himself.

One of the candles on the table burns out; there's still one left lit, but the difference in the lighting is obvious. It's dark, but not terribly; there's a decent amount of moonlight flooding in through the windows too. There's a curl of his fingers into her hair, brief, before he's tracing his fingertips lightly along her cheekbone. He's been trying not to let himself get so wrapped up in her like this, not to succumb to that spell, but he can't always resist it. "So," a little slowly, drawn out, and when his hand falls from her face, he's loosening his tie a little, "for a first date, I think this is going pretty well, don't you?"

Jackie didn't mean for it to be a challenge. It was her attempt at keeping the conversation going. Trying to not let herself get too lost in him like she had Sundays ago when they had come so close to blowing the 'go slow' mantra out of the water before it even began. But the lingering kiss to her wrist causes another sound from parted lips, an audible hitch of her breath. It feels like all her nerves are buzzing with electricity radiating from that one spot, fingertips rubbing against her own palm when her hand settles back into her lap. She manages a reply, though it's said in a quiet sigh. "I think I could raise a lil' more if I tried." So all the hell she raised as it was is without actually trying? That was a scary thought.

When the candle burns out her gaze shifts towards the table, a moment to take in just how much longer they have with the remaining candle. Considering they were both probably lit at the same time she's figuring not much. Not that she has a problem with sitting in moonlight alone. Her gaze sweeps back to Ben with the hold on her hair and the fingertips along her cheek. Those two small acts and she's fully his all over again. He might feel like he's under her spell, but she's feeling the same way towards him. Especially when he starts to loosen his tie.

Her hands lifts from her lap so fingers can catch the fabric of his tie again. A drag of forefinger and thumb downward. Then she's moving the hand up towards his, draping fingers over his to assist him in loosening it. Actually, probably pushing him further than he wanted to go when her other hand joins in and she's undoing the tie all together and pulling it from his collar in a slow drag as she speaks. "Are we considerin' this a second first date? I thought our first date was on m'birthday. Or should we jus' call 'em all first dates?" Even though her volume was pitched low, there was that playfulness again.

At least he wasn't the only one to feel that, that buzz. Jackie's at least got the alcohol she could blame it on (though she hadn't had all that much to drink, and besides, this was no alcohol-buzz). Ben's entirely sober, even if he doesn't feel it.

She's right, that remaining candle doesn't have much time left, its flicker grown more pronounced, its last little fits before it dims. Maybe she could have taken that as a sign to leave. Maybe he could have said it himself. But she doesn't, and he doesn't either.

He's letting her help in loosening his tie, but once she's using both hands, he lets go, lets her untie it completely. It shouldn't set him off the way it does -- its only a tie she's pulling off -- but it's a kind of forward that Jackie hasn't really been with him before. It is further than he'd intended to go, but it certainly doesn't bother him, and mindlessly, almost automatic, he's undoing the top couple of buttons of his shirt while replying, "Second first date. And considering how good these have both been, maybe we should call them all first dates." One hand lifted to lightly trace his fingers along the curve of her collarbone. Behind her, the second candle goes out, and he doesn't even notice. "As long as I don't have to wait a month and a half for another one, Jackie Lee Trouble Daniels." He's just as quiet as she is, and there's that tease in his voice too.