Freddie sat silently in his lap listening to him hum until her eyelids grew heavy. As the Englishman continued to warmly rock them both, Freddie nodded off. Her head bobbed down and then back up, as the sudden movement woke her with a soft start. Snuggling closer to him for a moment, she lightly kissed his shoulder before stretching out her short legs to stand. Leaving her tea on the balcony table, she tossed his shirt and tie over one shoulder, and then took his hand to lead him back inside. "Come, mi amor," she tugged his hand gently, moving back to the bed, "We should sleep." 

Slowly and sleepily she led him back to the bed, pausing at the edge. Pulling him close behind her, she wrapped his arm around her; resting his hand on her belly as she cleared the extra blankets off the bed. Crawling onto the bed, Freddie fluffed their pillow, and spread the sheets, making plenty of room in her king size bed for John to sleep comfortably next to her. Jack stirred a little as the mattress shifted, and Freddie paused for a moment to check his dressings and temperature. Everything looked good, and Freddie smiled over her shoulder at John with a reassuring nod. 

Sliding down under the sheets, she turned her back to Jack, and patted the mattress next to her, smiling up at John with a whisper of a sparkle behind her dark eyes. "Come, come. And get comfy this time." 

John, who had completely nodded off and kept rocking (and slightly starting to drool on her head), startled as her head fell and quickly lifted back up. His quick movement of lifting his head from his own start was all that saved Freddie a headache and him a sore chin. She stood and tugged him over towards the bed, pulling him close against her as she moved the blankets. Her body against his, even through his slacks and her slip, just felt right. He'd attempted to be a gentleman the first time they slept, but this time her coaxing sounded too nice. John loosened his belt and tugged it off, hanging the buckle on a hook on Freddie's closet. His slacks followed and he folded them, laying them on the night stand before sitting on the bed to tug his socks off. At this point, sleep was the only thing on his mind. That so happened to be a feat, considering Freddie was such a stunning woman. He folded his socks, setting them on his slacks, and finally slid himself into the sheets.

John laid back against the soft, freshly fluffed pillow and sighed. "Ya don' mind me sleepin' in me kegs, d'ya?" He rolled his head to the left and looked at Freddie, slipping an arm beneath her head to tug the smaller lady close, pressing her petite body against his broad torso. He grinned jovially, the cock had now come out (get your mind out of the gutter... His attitude, go'dammit!). "I thin' I could get use to this, lass. I swear I fell arse over tit for ya tuh day we met..." He chuckled and finally kissed Freddie, pressing his lips to hers before she could protest. He slowly pulled away after and stared at Freddie, wondering what was passing through her mind; or if he should run...

Watching John undress drudged up a flood of conflicting emotions for Freddie. Tonights battle scars were still far too raw for her to even remotely consider anything romantic, and yet there he was being all stunning and hulking and SAFE. He was even rather considerate, as he asked if she minded. Only part of her did... and it was a small part at that. A part she knew would quickly fade, just like all her other scars. "If by kegs you mean your briefs," she paused for a minute, deliberately choosing to push through the small amount of discomfort she felt, "No. I don't care. I said get comfy. So, get comfy." 

As he held her close, she felt truly small... and she actually liked  it for the first time she could remember. "I think I could get used to this," John confessed, and it was as if he'd read her mind. She wanted to tell him as much, but the moment she looked up to agree, she got caught by the mouth. The kiss caught her off guard, and for a brief moment she stiffened; squeaking a little as she inhaled her surprise. As John pulled away slowly, Freddie bit her bottom lip; her eyes tinged with regret. She hated that such a perfect moment would be forever shadowed with the events of the day, but such was the way of things in her life. It was always like that. Her life was like dark chocolate and lemonade; always bittersweet. 

Freddie saw the flash of fear and doubt erupt behind John's eyes, and she immediately regretted her own overthinking. Doing her best to put all the rest behind her, at least for a few brief seconds, she smiled warmly up at him. "I knew it," she nuzzled him softly, "You're going to make my life beautifully complicated, aren't you, Cariño?"  She asked with an adoring smile. Her dark curls bounced lightly against his chest as she smiled up into his pale eyes, "Creo que estoy cayendo enamorado de ti, John Shoaltz." She chuckled softly, burying her face in his chest as she tenderly traced the long scar along his sternum, "Creo que te quiero." 

He of course would have almost no clue what she was saying, save that it sounded like a good thing. But she would be offering no translation tonight. Stretching up, she kissed him back -- decisive and irrevocable.  Pulling away she settled back onto the bed, snuggling close with sigh as she patted his chest contentedly. "Sleep now, my love." The words were muffled and drawn out as she yawned wide. 

Twirling her curls around his fingers John hummed softly for a while longer, grinning like a mad man at the ceiling as Freddie snored ever so softly on his chest until finally he, too, was overcome by the peace of sleep... for the first time in along time. 

Sure, it'd be weird waking up next to poor Jack in the morning, but Freddie had a feeling it wouldn't be the first such encounter between the two men. And, quite frankly, she just didn't give a damn. It was her bed anyway, and tomorrow was still a long ways away. 

some time the next morning... 

Soft sunlight filtered through the gossamer curtains into Freddie's room. The muffled sounds of cars passing by, people speaking in fluid spanish,  footsteps on grass and children playing echoed through the house as the neighborhood stirred to life. Freddie, too, stirred awake with a gentle start as the sounds lightly tickled her senses. John and Jack were still sleeping peacefully... well... mostly. Jack seemed a little fitful and feverish. 

Freddie tried to roll to him, but John's fingers were tightly snared in her tangled ebony ringlets... now all brambles and frizz thanks to John's incessant twirling. She hissed softly as her movements tugged at the sensitive spots around her temples. Cursing quietly she extricated his digits from her hair, mumbling lowly to herself about a bird's nest as she internally lamented the work it would take to pick out all the knots he'd caused. 

Finally able to move, Freddie crawled off the edge of the bed. Scrawling a note on a used envelope, she propped it up on the scrolling handles of the french doors leading to the balcony: Don't even think about it. She wasn't going to have anyone sneaking out before she had time to acclimate... not that she thought John was that kind of man... but just in case.

Moving around the bed, she leaned over, her matted curls brushing lightly against Jack's face as she gently checked his bandages and temperature. The light movements were just enough to rouse Jack from his restless slumber. And none to her surprise, the man came up swinging. Jack calmed much faster than John had, his pressured breathing the only sound he made. Blinking around at the strange room, he muttered to himself, "Where the... how the... who the fuck did I....." Jack trailed off quickly as his gaze fell to Freddie, who scurried back around the bed, unsure of how Jack would react. Gripping John's shoulder, her small frame was dwarfed by John's as he protectively wrapped a sleepy arm around her, pulling her into his lap as he begrudgingly pushed himself from the plush mattress. Roused by all the movement, John tugged her close, sitting up with an almost drunken expression as he stared at Jack... who, having no recollection of the night after leaving Riley's place, panicked. 

His gaze flickered between his boss and the little lady he now held in his lap, horror creeping it's way across his features. "Oh fuck. John... I'm... sorry? I... swear, Boss. I... didn't?" Nothing Jack said sounded completely sure as he struggled to piece his thoughts together. How the fuck had this happened. Bleary eyed Jack struggled not to look at Freddie, huddled on the bed in nothing but a night slip as he pleaded with John. "I swear on the holy book, boss. I didn't touch 'er!" 

"Oh, sweety," Freddie chuckled tenderly, moving to kneel on the bed and reaching for Jack's wounded arm. Her touch was gentle and light as she tried to draw his attention to his shoulder, but Jack recoiled as if the caress were poison... a death sentence. Sighing softly, Freddie crawled off the foot of the bed, wondering why Jack would look so horrified, as John laughed aloud... a boisterous, booming, melodic sound that tickled the corners of Freddie's lips as she tried not to join in. 

"Relax, Jackie-boy. Ya got shot. Not boned," John continued to laugh, and slowly Jack joined him. The two tumbling into what Freddie was sure was a familiar reaction for the two men. Silently, she slipped out of the room, leaving John to explain everything as she made her way down the hall to the kitchen. Leaving both doors open, the men's deep voices echoed down the hall as Freddie started preparing breakfast. What the fuck did englishmen even eat?? Coffee. Definitely coffee. Or maybe tea? Freddie shrugged, deciding to put on a pot of both just to be safe. Pancakes and bacon sounded like a safe bet, and she fetched the ingredients from the fridge and pantry, making quick work of the batter. She only had a handful of eggs left, so she decided to whip those up, too. 

As the laughter and camaraderie filtered down the hall, Freddie thought back to John's comments the night before, whispering softly to herself, "I could get used to this..." But thoughts of last night came with a dark price, and as her mind wandered, she felt a familiar pressing panic begin to settle in her chest. Leaving everything on the counter, she moved to the sink, and pulled a bottle of pills from one of her (many) medicine cabinets. At first she thought to take two. But as she stared in shame at the large white orbs in her palm, her curls bounced lightly around her face as she shook her head in frustration. Breaking one in half, she downed it with a full glass of water and jammed the lid back on the bottle with a low growl; leaving the other half on the kitchen window sill with a full glass... just in case. 

Nearly jumping out of her skin, Freddie spun and glared at the stove as the tea kettle began to whistle. She'd forgotten the spare kettle even made noise. Yanking it from the burner, she dropped in two Earl Grey tea bags before slamming the lid back on. The coffee pot popped and simmered, as she laid strip after strip of thick, peppery bacon in the pan. The small no doubt rousing the men. As the drugs took effect, Freddie relaxed, humming softly as she flipped the pancakes and stirred the eggs. 

Jack slid into a seat at the table, as John slipped behind Freddie, leaning down to hum happily along with her as he kissed her cheek. "Get'in' tuh special treatmen', 'ey lass? I guess all that stuff ya said las' night' musta meant summat good." He snuggled close, wrapping his arms around her silk cocooned midriff as he joked. Freddie leaned her head back against him. Despite her pain and her fear, there was something about the way he held her that just felt right. 

Twisting around to face him, she leaned lightly against the stove as she wrapped her arms around his neck... spatula still in hand. "I think you know exactly what I said, my darling. My love." The words were heavy and dripped with sugary emphasis as she made sure to use the english versions of his usual pet names. 

John's beryl eyes lit up a little, and he smiled wide... even goofily... like a star struck teen as he leaned in to kiss her. His arms locked around her, pulling her up onto her tiptoes as he clenched her close. Her dark eyes fluttered closed as she melted in his grasp, kissing him back with everything she had. Her thin frame pressed against him as her fingers lost themselves in his hair. She moaned heavily, her supple lips parting as his body responded raptly to her touch. 

Freddie whimpered faintly as he pressed into her; a sick, twisting disgust writhing up from the pit of her stomach. For a moment she closed her eyes tightly, fighting tooth and nail to reconcile the conflicting emotions warring inside her. But as John's hands slid down to grip her waist, it was simply too much. Images of henry flashed in her mind as she fought to push John away, tears and shame stinging her eyes. "Stop... I'm sorry... STOP!" Her hands slid down his abdomen, no doubt sending agonizingly mixed signals as she forced space between them. "I'm sorry, John.. I just... I can't... right now. Not right now. I... need a minute... or few." Turning back to the stove, she hid her face from him and busied herself with the food... anything to not have to think about it. "I want to... please don't get me wrong. I want you so badly," she whispered, ignoring the fact that jack was preset, "I just... I'm gonna need you to be patient." 

Freddie jabbed at the scrambled eggs with murderous force, "So, go over there," she motioned to the corner by the table, "And do something with that." Jack snickered as Freddie blatantly gestured at the bulge in his pants with the spatula. "Sing the national anthem or something," she joked... and then immediately regretted it as Jack shot her one of those looks. With a heavy sigh, she served two heaping plates of food, with tea and coffee for each. But before she could finish fixing her own plate, the frustration overtook her. The spatula slammed down onto the stove, no doubt making both men jump; looking at each other with a 'what the fuck' blink. 

Freddie growled... really growled... in high pitched frustration, tugging at her hair. "I fucking HATE HIM! I hate him for this!" she gestured wildly with the spatula between John and herself. "I hate him, Cariño. And I can't even hurt him. I want him to suffer." Freddie's pace pitched forward as she went into full Latina meltdown, "I want him to suffer, I want his wife to suffer. I want his whole disgusting family to suffer. I want the fucking cucarachas in his house and all of their families to suffer! I want to destroy..." she growled again punching her fist into her hand and grinding it there in rage and frustration, "...I want to obliterate every (punch) single (punch) trace (punch punch punch) that he ever existed." 

Freddie looked up, dark frizz hanging in her fiery eyes, "If I can't erase him from me, I want to erase him from this city." Freddie huffed, and blew her hair out of her eyes. Moving to the table, she dropped her plate down with an uncaring thunk and then plopped into the only empty chair, and leaned over on John's shoulder. 

"I love you," she pouted softly, "And I hate him for making that difficult." 

Jack looked on silently, making himself small in that special way that he always did. But as Freddie looked up into John's eyes, the men exchanged a knowing glance... something was going to have to be done.