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princesscolumbia · 12 days

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Ānzhuōniichuan - Chapter 2

Insomnia has been making a total mess of my ability to do things, including doing the stuff necessary to get rid of the insomnia. On the plus side, I've managed to get enough sleep this last week to recover enough to finished a chapter, so please enjoy:

Summary:

Ranma and Ryoga's journey, now with their new Chinese friend Xian Pu, takes them to a dojo in Japan.

Notes:

Been dealing with insomnia that's played merry hell on my ability to get, like, ANY writing done 'cause I'm just out of spoons before the morning is half over. Finally managed to grab a few time slices as I've been forcing myself to recover to get this written. Lost Little Wolf - The Minor Key Ch. 14, Double Isekai Ch. 10, Return to Recipient Ch. 6, And at This Point I'm Afraid to Ask Ch. 5, Deviation Ch. 9, Lost in the Dark Pt. 1 Ch. 2, Fission Ch. 10 Pt 2, and a few unpublished works are still on deck and work will continue...even if a bit slowly.

Preview below the cut:

Akane sat on her heels in the way that her friend Sayuri had marveled at since they were in elementary school together, feet flat on the ground, her knees up against her chest, arms wrapped around her legs, and chin resting on the little nook between her kneecaps. She was watching Ranma as the (currently) girl sat cross-legged in front of the family shrine. Ranma's eyes seemed to drift back to the largest picture on the shrine quite regularly; Akane's mother. Tears formed a track down the redhead's cheeks, and Akane had to admit that this part-time girl looked very cute and (dare she say it?) huggable. Akane was doing everything she could to fight the impulse to wrap her arms around Ranma and just hold her until the crying stopped.

"...stupid pops..." Ranma sniffled for probably the twentieth time since they'd come out here.

"Ranma..." Akane ventured, "Why did you turn yourself into a girl?"

Ranma blinked the most recent tears out of her eyes and turned to Akane, seeming like she was waking up from a daydream. "Huh? Oh..." she wiped the tracks off her face and said, "Didn't wanna cry as a guy. Aint manly."

Akane snorted, "'Manly'? What's being a man got to do with it?"

Ranma took a deep breath, "Nothin' really, just..." she wiped at her eyes again, "...pops just always kept hammerin' on me 'bout bein' 'manly,' and I thought that's just how guys'r'supposed to learn how to be guys. 'A real man does this,' 'a real man acts like that'... 'course, half'a that was the same as the bullshit 'bout bein' honorable, an' he never was."

Akane settled herself into a proper sitting position, opting for cross-legged like Ranma was doing instead of the seiza that 'proper girls' were 'supposed' to do. Yeah, she could sit seiza, but sometimes cross-legged was more comfortable. "Seems like your father was a jerk," she said, trying to keep Ranma talking.

The redhead sighed, "Yeah, Ryoga and Xian are helpin' me see that and tryin' to teach me how to be, I dunno, the kinda person I want to be. Still gotta long way to go, though. Like, I still don't know what I said wrong earlier."

Akane scrunched her brow in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"When I asked if you were a glass cannon," she sighed, "I just...a glass cannon is somethin' that can pack a hell of a punch but breaks real easy. Sometimes that's just how some martial artists are, I'm just tryin' to ask a question but something I said is wrong..." Ranma went from a little bit sad to teeth-grittingly frustrated in the space of a few words, her hands suddenly bunched into fists.

Akane found herself momentarily at a loss for words, "...but...being called a 'glass cannon' is a bad thing. Like you're trying to make fun of someone for having a weak defense."

Ranma turned to look at Akane, her jaw slightly slack, "But...I'm not trying to...I just...what?!" Her bunched fists were suddenly up and scrubbing at her eyes as a stuttering sob escaped her again, "F-fucking pops!" she stammered out, "R...Ryoga thought I h-hated him 'cause I just used the same things pops did to get me to spar with him! And since w-we started travelin' t-together with Xian they..." she heaved a couple of sobbing hiccups, "They've been t-tryin' t'teach me not to be mean 'r' cruel, an' it's like everything I say is mean! I thought that's just h-how you knew someone c-cared! And...and pops taught me that!"

Akane couldn't hold back any longer. She practically threw her arms around the smaller girl, muttering the little calming phrases and making the noises that Kasumi did whenever she couldn't handle the stress of life any longer or the Hentai Horde was particularly aggressive and nobody else would listen.

The two of them sat for a while, Ranma safely curled up in Akane's arms, the taller girl gently rubbing Ranma's back to comfort her. After the tears finally petered out, Akane realized that she was feeling something she hadn't expected for someone who'd revealed they were born a boy under the fabric of the silk shirt. She paused in her up and down motion, fingertips gently probing back and forth. Before Ranma's back could tense up any further, she asked, "Ranma...is that a bra?"

The redhead let out a nervous chuckle, "Y-yeah, got it a couple days after we got back to Japan. I had...no idea that there was such a thing as a sports bra, but...it works for me an' Ryoga 'cause of the curse." They disengaged enough for Ranma to look down at her own chest, as though the shirt wasn't there, "Pull 'em on like a shirt, the band stretches when we get hit with hot water and nothin' in the cups to really stick out or be obvious when we're in guy forms." She sighed, mostly seeming to need the breath to recover from the emotional outburst, "Didn't know...pops always made it seem like women wore bras 'cause they were weak or somethin'. Xian got kinda sick o' me fightin' without wearing one an' challenged me t'wear one during a spar an'...well, I don't think I wanna go without one ever again while I'm practicin' the Art, and since everything's practice..." she shrugged.

Akane could say quite well she didn't know any boys that didn't want to do martial arts without a bra. Now that Ranma seemed to have regained some of her emotional equilibrium, they separated, both now sitting cross-legged and facing each other. "Ranma...do...um..."

Ranma, for her part, just sat and waited for Akane to get her thoughts in order.

Akane took a deep breath, "I...my sister was right, I've been...every morning I have to fight a horde of boys just to get into school. And they made it clear they're intention is to overpower me and..." she swallowed, the fear she used to fuel her anger every day welling up inside her, "...take advantage of me."

"What?!" snapped Ranma as she started from her seated position. To her credit, she seemed to come to her senses and sit back down, "...sorry," she muttered.

Akane smiled, her expression pinched from the anxiety of the morning brawls bubbling inside but grateful that she seemed to have stumbled onto someone who was just as indignant about it as she was, "Thank you, Ranma. But," she took another deep breath, "I guess I've been letting them twist how I see boys up..."

Ranma nodded, "An' if yer enemy gets inta your head, then they're the ones pickin' the battlefield."

Akane mirrored Ranma's nod, "So because I need to...overcome this weakness, I need to ask you a question and hope it's not, like, the rudest question I could possibly ask."

Ranma tilted her head in a motion that reminded Akane of nothing less than a kitten encountering an ice cube for the first time, like she had no idea what was going to happen next but curiosity was driving her to learn no matter what and damn the consequences.

Taking that as encouragement, Akane plowed ahead, "Are you a boy or a girl?" She bit her lip, suppressing her embarrassment at having even had to ask.

Ranma's gaze seemed to turn inward, "...you know, I guess I'm a little of both?" she said after a while. "I mean, before the curse, I'd've told you I was a guy, 100 percent, but a lotta that was based on what my pops said, and we both know how much of a dumbass he was. But...I mean, I like bein' a guy sometimes. I want to be taller and more muscular and have longer reach an' all that. And sometimes I just like seein'..." she blushed, "Um...what I was born with between my legs." Akane blushed at that as well, which Ranma clearly picked up on because she said her next sentence in a tumble of words, "Not, like, in a hentai way or nuthin', but just 'cause it's, you know, what I 'spect t'see. But since I got the curse, I'm...I dunno, kinda seein' lots of stuff different. Like, chocolate is different!"

"It is?!" blurted Akane.

Ranma nodded enthusiastically, "And ice cream with chocolate? Gods! No comparison! I mean, I never got the 'guys don't eat sweets' thing before, but when I'm in girl mode it's like my tongue was made for sweets! And..." she blushed, "I...kinda like lookin' cute and...pretty. And I'd kinda like t'wear a dress an' just...be a girl for a bit."

Akane found herself smiling, easily imagining taking the redhead on a shopping trip with her friends Yuka and Sayuri.

Ranma grimaced, "Aint a fan of the cramps, though."

Akane thought her eyes would pop out of her head, "...cramps...?! Like, you have a period?!"

The redhead tossed her head back and let out a melodramatic groan that lasted nearly thirty seconds before slumping down (clearly exaggeratedly) and grumping, "Apparently I'm an 'early developer,' 'cording to Xian's granny. They weren't expectin' Ryoga or me to have our periods for, like, two months or somethin' so didn't say nothin' at first 'cause Xian was already fixin' to give me an' Ryoga 'the talk.' Then 'bout a week after we got back to Japan I woke up hurtin' like crazy and Xian had t'call home 'cause she thought it was somethin' else and Elder Ku Lon just laughed her wrinkly ass off so loud I could hear it over the phone an' across the room." She straightened, "Aint..." she turned green, "Bleedin' yet, but I gotta carry a pad around just in case now."

"But...you change back and forth, right? Can't you just, I don't know, stay a guy as much as possible during it?"

Ranma curled her lips and stuck out her tongue in irritation, "That's what I asked first thing. The magic of the curse aint, like, givin' me a new body every time. It's just flippin' me back an' forth between bein' a guy and bein' a girl like I'd been one the whole time. I can stop the period with hot water, but the second I flip back to girl-mode the period picks up right where it left off. Now I gotta wear either panties or briefs no matter what 'cause boxers sure as hell don't hold a pad."

Akane paled slightly, "Oh, um, are you...? Is it...?"

Ranma shrugged, "Nah, that was last week and was short 'cause I guess it was my body's first time an' all. But it was two days and tryin' to hide that your pad's slipping fucking sucks, let me tell you."

Akane turned as scarlet as her name for a bit as she imagined being in a similar situation. Frantically trying to drown out her scattered thoughts, she asked, "So when should I think of you as a boy?"

Ranma shrugged again, "Any time I am one, I guess. Xian and Ryoga've been tellin' me to use hot or cold water whenever I'm feelin' more 'boy' or 'girl.' That's why I got the water in there," she pointed to the house, "When I was feelin' like I needed to cry. I just...don't feel much like a boy, so I changed."

"Huh...I guess you're kind of lucky like that."

The smaller girl's face scrunched in confusion, "What are you talking about? It's a curse!"

Akane held up a hand placatingly, "Yes, and it's awful that it happened to anyone, but there've been times I kinda wished I could turn into a boy to take on the horde. Not really any other time, but if I could just once take 'em on as a man I bet they'd think twice about trying again the next day."

Ranma's smile was strained but sympathetic, "I guess I can see that."

"So do you...I guess... 'switch' mentally, too?"

Ranma shook her head, but then seemed to think about it and tentatively bobbed her head in a single nod, "I didn't think I did at first, but lately if someone says 'he' or 'him' about me when I'm in girl-mode, I start lookin' around for who they're talkin' about. And a few days ago I had a cop tryin' to look me up...long story, but we'd had more'n a few times the cops tried t'put me in jail 'cause my pops used my name for his bullshit, an' I was just...tired of it and already in girl mode, so I made up the name 'Ranko,' kinda on the spot, and yesterday I was in girl-mode and Ryoga said my name...er, she said 'Ranma' three times before I realized she was talkin' to me 'cause I just kinda started thinkin' of my girl-mode as 'Ranko.'"

They were quiet for a bit, the sound of the rain muting the rest of the outside, making them feel like their entire world was just the dojo.

He...she has periods, wears a bra, thinks of herself as a girl... Akane could almost feel her worldview shifting around in her head, I mean, sure, sometimes he is a boy, but even as a boy he was treating me better than any of the boys at school...ESPECIALLY Kuno! She had no idea what this meant for her in the larger context of her life, but her family's school was all about learning and adapting and growing in spite of everything thrown at you and becoming better than everyone else because of what was thrown at you.

She came to a decision, though exactly what the conclusion was or the path to get there she couldn't say. Smiling warmly, she reached out and offered her hand to Ran...ko. "Well, then hello Ranko, I'm Akane. Would you like to be friends?"

Akane didn't really understand the phrase 'lighting up the room with a smile' until that moment when Ranma practically glowed in response to Akane's offer.

Read the whole thing on AO3

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ravenclaw-daydreams · 3 years

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𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐨 | 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐑𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐧𝐞𝐫

Warnings: mention of assassination, graphic smut, adult content, mentions of murder, pervy men in the workplace, falling for a villain, guns, mentions of pregnancy, unprotected sex, alcohol.

Masterlist

Summary: Jackson just wants a normal life but thanks to his business, his chances were slim. but after meeting you, his chances it doesn't seem like such a long shot anymore.

A/N: Reading Jack's Villian wiki gave me the idea, and the personality section is what really set it in motion. He's more human than we thought, folks. I felt VERY inclined to write this. :)

Jack wasn't proud of his work. He never was. But he knew that once he got into the business, he could never get out. And as fate would have it, you met him on the job.

Your boss was a ruthless, lying, manipulative son of a bitch, and you just so happened to be his receptionist. You hated your job and the way your pig of a boss would always make it sickeningly obvious he was starring at your breasts when asking you to make a call. You hated him. Sometimes you would imagine ways to kill the bastard and get away with it too.

Apparently, someone else had the same idea, but actually took the initiative of hiring an assassin. That's where you came in.

It was a late Friday night, and after a long grueling day of putting up with your boss's demands, you were so happy to see the front door of your home. You couldn't wait to collapse on the couch with a glass of red wine and have a leisurely weekend.

You fiddled with your keys as you tried to find the right one. 'Why the hell did I have all those keys anyways?' you thought to yourself bitterly as you shuffled them around.

But the sound of a gun cocking from behind you made you freeze. Air caught in your throat as you tried to convince yourself you didn't just hear what you thought you heard.

"Don't let me stop you," a smooth masculine voice from behind you sneered, pressing what you presumed to be the barrel of the gun point-blank onto your back, "Unlock the door, step inside. Scream and you die."

You gave a small nod, your search for the right key more frantic now, and once you found it, your shaking hand fumbled with it before finally slipping it into the keyhole, your trembling hand opening the door, and you felt yourself get pushed inside.

The door slammed behind you, and that's when you whipped around, now face to face with your captor. The gun was still pointed at you, but the man who was holding it was what stopped you in your tracks.

If someone told you that morning that you were going to be held at gunpoint by one of the most attractive men you had ever seen in your life, you would have laughed in their face. But you weren't laughing now.

"What do you want?" you managed to squeak out, his piercing blue eyes bore into yours.

"Well, I have a job to do, to put it plainly, and you're one of the only people that can help me complete it," he began to explain, "And you don't have a choice."

"What are you wanting from me?"

"Your boss. I want you to call him and tell him that there's something going on and he needs to swing by the office. Once he obliges, my guys who are waiting outside the building as we speak will take it from there."

"You're going to kill him?" you gasped. Sure, you considered doing it yourself, but you never thought anyone would actually try to do it.

"You don't need to worry about that. What you need to worry about is the gun that's pointed at you right now," he concluded, reaching for your home phone, politely holding it out for you to take.

You paused, and he raised a brow. Out of instinct, you tried to bolt past him to the front door, but when you realized it wasn't going to work, it was too late. He grabbed you violently as you thrashed in his grasp before he collapsed the two of you on the couch. He held you in one position until he felt your breathing calm, your neck in a headlock as you faced away from him, panting like an angry dog.

"Stop getting cute," he hissed next to your ear, and even though you couldn't see his face, you knew his teeth were gritting.

He finally trusted you wouldn't pull anything else after he gave a harsh squeeze to your trapped throat, and he let you go, and you immediately scooted to the other side of the couch.

You felt his eyes on you, and with a sudden jerked movement, he held out what you thought was the gun, making you flinch. But with a double-take, you realized it was just the phone.

You reached out, taking it, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt as if you could see something in his gaze. Something longing. Something not quite there. Reluctance.

Shaken fingers press the numbers as you click 'dial', but before you could hold it up to your ear, your captor stopped you.

"Nuh-uh. Speaker."

You nodded, pressing the speaker button before the dial tone echoed through your home. After three times, the line was suddenly picked up.

"What the hell are you doing calling at this hour?" your boss's harsh voice hissed through the phone.

"Yeah, Mr. Snider, there seems to be something happening at the office. Someone from the administration is here and demanding to see you," you tried your best to sound convincing.

"What do they fucking want?" he scorned, his tone making you flinch.

"I wish I knew, sir. They won't tell me anything," you tried to force a smile in your voice.

"Fucking useless," he grunted, making you shift uncomfortably.

"Should I tell them you're on your way?" you proposed.

"Fuck. Fine. I'll be there in 15. And hey, don't get bitchy with me, yeah? Don't forget, you work for me."

"Yes sir," you muttered, loud enough for him to hear.

All the while Jack was watching your reactions. He saw how you flinched at strong tones and saddened at the insults.

The sound of the line going dead was what snapped him back to reality, your still shaking hand setting it down on the coffee table.

"Is that all you needed?" you finally spoke.

"I wish I could say yes," his words made your gaze shift to the floor in disappointment, "I need to stay here until the deed is done."

"How long will that be?"

"After I make this phone call to let the guys know the target is on his merry way, we'll wait until I get a call back. Then we can part ways and you'll never speak of it to anyone. Or else I will have no other choice but to come back and kill you."

You curled in on yourself, resting your chin on your knees as you didn't answer, the sounds of a number being dialed making you cringe.

The sudden movement of him standing up made you flinch, and for a second you thought you almost saw a look of sympathy flash through his eyes before he held the phone to his ear, waiting for the other line to pick up.

"Stu? Yeah. Yeah, she called. He's on his way. He'll be there in 10. Make it look believable, yeah? Clients aren't paying us for anything that looks tacky."

Jack continued his conversation on the phone as he made his way to your kitchen, still in clear view of you. A few moments later he came back, the phone now hung up, a glass of water in his hand.

"Drink," he commanded.

"I'm not thirsty,"

He suddenly set the phone down, taking one of your hands and wrapping it around the cup, "I don't want you passing out on me. Drink," he commanded again.

Now it felt as if you had no choice. You lifted the cups to your lips, gently sipping as he watched you like a hawk until all the water was down your throat.

"Good girl," he praised jokingly, setting the glass on the table.

He then sat down with you on the couch. There was a prolonged silence.

"What's your name?" you finally asked.

He turned to you and cocked a brow.

"Sorry... just trying to make conversation," with an assassin you added bitterly in your head.

He scoffed, the room going back to silence, the two of you waiting... listening.

"Jackson."

"What?" you questioned, looking at him.

"My name. It's Jackson."

"Oh," you replied, "Well, I'm (name)."

"I know," he smirked.

You mentally facepalmed. Of course he did. He was an or assassin for fuck's sake.

"Can I call you Jack?" you asked meekly.

"Seeing as you won't ever see me again, sure. I haven't been called Jack since I was a kid though."

You could tell he was trying to open up. Just a little. Besides, he was right. It wasn't like he was ever going to see you again.

"Why?"

"Rippner. It's my last name," he explained.

"Oh shit," you said in spite of it not being lady-like, "That was a dick move on your parent's part."

"Tell me about it."

The conversation unfolded. You spoke about names, childhood experiences, hell, even what your favorite ice cream flavor was. It was a careless conversation with the mentality of getting everything out there.

You almost forgot that your boss was being killed right as you spoke. You felt the man in front of you open up. He was okay with being vulnerable with you.

That was until the phone rang, Jack rushing to pick it up.

"Yeah?"

His facial expression was unreadable as you watched him. Finally, he hung up the phone, his face returning to the same cold and distant look it had the moment you two had met.

"Well, (name), this is where we part ways," he began, but before he could walk to the front entryway, you grabbed his hand.

He looked startled as he turned around, his eyes searching your face for an answer. Your move was bold. Risky. But you were willing to take it.

"Don't go." your mouth moved before you could stop it.

He narrowed his eyes, almost as if he didn't believe it was you talking. Yet his hand was still being held tightly in yours.

"Please don't go."

☆○o。　　。o○☆☆○o。　　。o○☆☆○o。　　。o○☆

1 Year Later

☆○o。　　。o○☆☆○o。　　。o○☆☆○o。　　。o○☆

You flipped in your sleep, half awake when you realized the spot next to you was bare, the indent of the once sleepless man in his place. You sighed as you flipped back over, looking at the clock.

2:15 am.

You pulled yourself away from your kingdom of soft pillows and blankets and slipped out of bed, your feet pressing against the hardwood of your home. You left the bedroom, crept down the hallway, and when you were finally met with the living area of your home, you were met with the form of your lover.

He was hunched over on the couch, hovering over a glass of red wine that rested in his hand. He seemed to be lost in thought, his blue eyes no longer piercing but distant.

The creak of the floorboards under you gave your position away, the man glancing up at you, spooked.

An instant look of regret graced his beautiful features, "Honey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"Hush," you sighed, "It's warmer out here anyway," you concluded.

"Even without your mountain of blankets?" he smirked, thinking of how adorable you looked cuddled up under the mound of linen.

"The bed is always cold when you're not in it," you whined, stilling next to him as he continued to nurse his glass of red liquid.

"Sorry love," he sighed, setting down the glass before wrapping his arms around you, your head resting on his chest as you listened in on his heartbeat. It was soft and lulling as you felt your eyes begin to droop.

That was, until you felt his hard-on press up against your back. A smirk crossed your lips.

"Is this why you couldn't sleep?" you questioned, subtly rubbing up against his bulge as you heard his breath catch in his throat.

"As I said," he muttered, "Didn't want to wake you."

"You could have just said so," you sat up, giving him a passionate kiss, one hand going in his hair, the other going down to his crotch, where he let out a primal groan at the feeling of your touch.

"I'm gonna be honest, I'm not really in the mood for foreplay," he stated, his hand reaching your lace panties and ripping them off, pulling you on his lap so you straddled him.

He pulled his boxers down to his knees, his cock springing up. The tip was flushed and angry, pre-cum leaking from the tip, the ridges of his veins pumping.

You bit your lip as you hovered over his gorgeous cock before sinking down slowly, the both of you moaning as you become one. Not long after you began to bounce up and down on his cock.

Jack growled as he grabbed a hold of your hips, helping you as he lifted you on and off his cock, searching for solace in orgasm. His eyes locked with yours as you rode him, and in his eyes, you found nothing but love and admiration, every part of him screaming in appreciation for you.

To put it plainly, he loved the way you loved.

You felt yourself tighten, yet to your disdain, your lover found his release first, a loud groan escaping his lips as he poured himself into you, the warmth in your belly growing as you felt him let go.

By the time he was finished, he was completely blissed out, but you weren't done yet. You wanted to cum. You pulled him out of you, and he watched as his spend dripped out of your swollen mound.

Before he could ask if you were okay, you were already back on him, your thighs now straddling one of his.

"What are you doing?" he asked darkly, raising a brow.

"Shut up," you hissed, rubbing your clit on the meat of his thigh, not wanting to lose any fraction that was already built up.

He caught the hint, his hands finding your hips once again as he helped you drag your throbbing cunt against the skin of his leg. All the while, he whispered filthy things in your ear, knowing it would get you there faster.

"Look at you go. Bet you're not so tired now, eh? Humping my leg like a little bunny. Such a good girl, huh?" he coaxed in your ear, and you nodded desperately, immediately agreeing with whatever he was saying. You just wanted to cum.

Finally, you felt yourself come right up to the edge. Jack knew all your body language perfectly, smirking at you as he began to speak.

"Come on, cum for me, baby. Let me watch you cum,"

And you did. Oh, you did. Your ears rang as your eyes shut tight, feeling your body tense and shake as you let your orgasm sweep you away.

Jack helped you ride through it, his words of praise now seeping into your brain.

"Good girl, there you go," he crooned as you began to catch your breath.

You panted as you slumped against him, hearing his heartbeat once more, matching your breathing with his. You felt him press a small kiss to the crown of your head.

"Thank you," he whispered, and all you could do was nod.

Then he began to stand, "Now come on. Let's go take a shower."

"Can I bring the wine?" you asked intently.

"Fuck it," he laughed.

☆○o。　　。o○☆☆○o。　　。o○☆☆○o。　　。o○☆

3 Months Later

☆○o。　　。o○☆☆○o。　　。o○☆☆○o。　　。o○☆

"You're doing it again,"

Jack looked up at you at the sound of your voice. He was sitting there, his hands folded and his jaw clenched, his leg bouncing up and down in anxiety as he went back to staring at the developing pregnancy test on the table.

"What?" he finally said.

"You're overthinking. I can see it in your face."

He rolled his eyes, seeming harsher than he intended. But he was nervous. In complete honesty, you were the first thing Jack had that had any semblance of normal. and after the things he's done and after the things he'd seen, normal was everything he wanted. And that's what this baby meant.

He craved normal. Life as an assassin didn't really scream domestic. But with you, everything he had ever wanted was wherever you were.

"Whatever the test reads, we'll be okay," you ensured, walking behind him and wrapping your arms around the anxious man, doing your best to calm his rapturing nerves.

"Yeah," he agreed, taking a deep breath, "We'll be okay."

The timer suddenly went off, the both of you perking up, chomping at the bit to get to the test, your fingers clutching it as you looked at it.

You gasped.

Jack froze.

You bolted into his arms, test in hand, bawling like a baby.

"You're gonna be a dad, Jack! You're gonna be a dad!!" you squealed, your arms wrapped tightly around him as he held you tight.

He began to tear up, "Really?"

You pulled back and nodded, showing him the test that read positive. He took it in his hands as a means to do a double-take, looking at the two little blue lines.

Without a word, he embraced you again, holding you tighter. His voice was muffled against your shoulder. From him came a small:

"Thank you."

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