walkswithheroes | (no subject)

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jason

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It's not normally the type of news that warrants celebration. Fred hasn't solved any big problem or helped defeat any kind of monster or vampire or anything, but she's still giddy enough that the first thing she does is head over to Jason's.

Up until now, she hasn't done much in Darrow except try to figure out just how she should be spending her time. And as she's walking through town, past the train station, it finally hits her. She needs to still be helping people. Fred had that revelation of her true path in life a long time ago, and she needs to get back to that. And maybe it's not exactly the most lucrative of plans and she'll have to find some kind of job to support it— there's a lab in town that she thinks might be looking for people— but she's excited anyway.

It's not until Fred knocks on Jason's door that she realizes that she doesn't even know if he's home. She probably should have called first.

This is becoming kind of a habit.

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Jason has the day off, and he's spending it, as Lafeyette would say, like a lazy slut. Well, the slut part, not so much? To be honest there, Jason hasn't had sex since he's come to Darrow. He'd been too freaked at first, and then--

--then there's Fred.

Ain't that a big glass full of complicated.

So he's sleeping in his own bed when there's a knock on the door, and he stumbles into jeans more than he puts them on. "COMING," he hollers, and scrubs his hands through his sleep-rumpled hair, which doesn't really help much.

Jason opens the door and there she is. Fred. Still half-asleep, the smile he gives her is sleepy and radiant and warm. "Hey, baby," he says, not really thinking it through as he leans in the doorframe. "Come on in."

"Hi," Fred says, and she walks right in, mind still racing so much that she doesn't realize at first that maybe she's supposed to be a little taken about by his term of endearment. He used to call her that all the time, back on the island, but sometimes that seems like it was a long time ago. Sometimes it seems like it was just yesterday.

"Sorry, I should have called ahead. I didn't interrupt anything, did I?" she pauses for a second and takes in his appearance. "Crap. I woke you up, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but I should probably be up anyway," Jason says, closing the door behind her. It's about all he can do to keep from scooping her up and getting them both back to bed. Doesn't even have to be like that, he'd take just having her all warm and soft under the sheets.

"And you know you can always stop by any time. Don't gotta call ahead or nothing."

"I'm not judging or anything," Fred clarifies, though she brightens a bit to know that she's not bugging him by just dropping by unannounced. Not that she really thinks she would be, but things are just a little more complicated now. She knows Jason's been through a lot, and doesn't expect things to automatically go back to the way they were.

"I mean, I used to do the same thing whenever I got a day off. Back when they weren't all days off. Actually, that's kinda why I'm here. I've got an idea that I need to run past someone, and... well, you're the first person I thought of."

Jason figures that when she's got ideas, he's going to need to be at the top of his game. Or at least somewhere near the top. He starts into the kitchen to get coffee going, and once he hears the machine whir to life, he ambles back out.

"Alright, so why don't you have a seat and tell me what you're thinkin'?"

He gives her a not fully awake smile, and slouches down on the couch, patting the spot next to him.

"Okay, now tell me if you think this sounds dumb," Fred says, and she takes the spot right next to him on the couch, folding her legs so that she can sit on them.

"But I've been trying to work out what I'm supposed to be doing here. You know, besides being petty unsuccessful at figuring out how to get home. So I had this thought. Back home, I used to help people, and I figure, there's people here who need helping too, right? I figure, people are showing up here from all over: ancient times, future times, some who speak the language and some who don't, and they could use a hand figuring this place... it's ridiculous, right? I sound like a nut."

It's hard to not just watch her talk sometimes; luckily, what she's got to say keeps him focused. "Naw, you don't sound like a nut." In his sleepy state, he's not really thinking. He just reaches out and pulls her down against his bare chest.

"That's what I love about you." Jason yawns. "Always tryin' to make the world a better place, no matter which version we're in."

"Hey," she says, a grin on her face as he pulls her in close. It's not exactly the response Fred was expecting, but she can't really complain. She snuggles up closer to Jason and looks up at him, her chin resting on his chest.

"So you think it'll work? That people'll go for it?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, why wouldn't they?" He runs a hand down her back, watching her face as that hand maybe starts to wander. No matter the time and place and all the shit that's happened to him, he is still Jason Stackhouse.

"So you gotta, uh, network. Or somethin'."

"That's what I call a good idea," Fred replies, and she leans in to kiss him briefly. Comments like that are why she'll never believe it when Jason says he's dumb, no matter how much he might insist. And it's not even the first time he's had a pretty decent suggestion for something she was working on either.

That's what Jason calls an opening, and he means to take it. He gives her a little tug so that he can cup her face with one palm, circles his arm around her waist and smooths it up her stomach.

"Baby," he whispers, because this kind of line works for him, "I got a lotta good ideas."

It's not exactly why Fred came to see Jason today, but she's not even going to pretend that she hasn't thought a lot about this in recent days. Maybe it's been a little weird since they both finally remembered everything, but she still loves him, still cares about him, and has missed moments like this a whole lot.

"Ideas, huh?" she asks, "What kind of ideas?"

"The kind that really oughta get me slapped," Jason murmurs, warm fingers slipping up under the hem of her shirt. "I'm just hoping you like me enough that I get away with it."

He grins. "You do like me, right?"

"You really think you still have to ask me that?" Fred asks, and her mouth is on his again almost before she can get the words out. Confusing as it may have been to get all her memories back in one go, two different pasts all mixed up in her head like some kinda brain soup, this is one thing she's sure of.

"Something my dad always told me about assumin' things," he gasps back against her lips, and then he's done thinking about dead parents. He shifts and rolls so that she's underneath him, all soft and warm and Fred. Hands tangle up in her hair, his mouth demanding and hungry. He's played it careful long enough. Time to remind them both that she's his.

She wants to tell him that with her, he's pretty safe if he just goes ahead and assumes, but then his mouth is on hers again and he's on top of her and really, it's been a long time since anyone's done any assuming with her. In fact, there hasn't been anyone since Jason, back on the island. It's more a fortunate coincidence than anything else that life back home got too complicated for much romance.

Jason settles between her thighs, one arm braced slightly against the couch. All his memories have been jumbled up since day one, but to his credit, he hasn't slept around in Darrow. And he sure hasn't thought about it since remembering Fred.

His free hand tugs at the hem of her shirt. Want begins to seep through his veins, turning his kiss hard-- among other things. Bed occurs to him, but the backs of his knuckles brush soft skin and thoughts stop occurring for a moment.

Jason's always been good when it comes to getting Fred to shut her brain off, and even though she's not exactly running formulas through her head right now, she's finding it hard to think about much at all that's not him, she's finding it hard to breathe, even.

He tugs at the hem of her shirt and Fred takes the hint, pulling away from him for only the second it takes to pull it up and over her head.

He catches her mouth again, only for a moment before trailing open-mouth kisses down the column of her neck. "It's been too fuckin' long," he says, grit in his voice, and then then he scrapes his teeth over a delicate collarbone.

He wants to tell her he loves her, always, but instead moves to the sweet, familiar curve of her breast.

It's probably selfish of her to think, but even though Jason's been without a shirt ever since Fred even knocked on the door, she can't help but think that he's entirely too clothed right now. But doing something about that requires moving, and with his mouth on her breast, moving is just about the last thing she wants right now.

"Jason," she says, and already, she's arching up her hips to meet his.

Jason's fingers skid up her arms and then down again, dragging the thin straps down her shoulders until her breasts spring free. "So fuckin' pretty," he says, just before lowering his head and mouthing the space between. No magic or blood or drugs here, just the woman he loved. Something real and warm and hard-earned.

His tongue rasped over her right nipple, lips closing over just a moment after.

It's one thing to remember doing this with Jason, to have the memory of it come flooding back mixed up with everything else, but it's another to be here doing it again, to have Jason right here with her, the weight and feel of him, the smell of him. Fred makes a noise that's kind of embarrassing when he puts his mouth on her, and squirms a little underneath him.

Usually it takes a lot to shut her brain up, but right about now that's not a problem at all. Everything else just melts away, kinda like ice cream on a hot Texas day, only Fred's too preoccupied to actually make analogies that clever right now.

Well, it's good to know Jason hasn't forgotten what he's doing. That little noise gets him to pull back up and kiss her on her mouth, that sweet mouth that's making that noise, that noise that rushes through him like a goddamn fright train. He swears to himself she's gonna make a lot more noise before they're done.

One warm hand slides between them again, cupping between her thighs. God, she's hot. Jason breaks the kiss, unable to settle his mouth anywhere when everywhere needs tasting, and scrapes his teeth over her pulse.

Jason touches her and Fred's hips arch upwards and into his hand. How long has it been since he touched her there? A year? She knows it's been a heck of a lot longer for him. Even still, it's just like the last time, ever bit as wonderful as she remembers.

"Jason, please," she says, her voice hushed, urgent and full of need.

"Please what?" he drawls, slow and deliberate, right against her skin. His hand stays where it is, not stroking or applying any particular amount of pressure-- just resting. His other hand sneaks up, cupping her breast.

He presses a kiss against the skin that's gone pink under his mouth.

Fred answers by going for the button of his jeans, her fingers fumbling at first to get them open. She's sure he knows exactly what she's talking about, but he's just being a big old tease about it. They both know exactly where this is is going, both know exactly where they want it to go, and maybe Fred's really enjoying this part— boy howdy is she enjoying it— but she really wants to get to what's next too.

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