Peggy sighed as she felt the warm sun on the other side of her closed eyelids. She groaned slightly as she reached over to the other side of the bed. Occasionally she would encounter warm flesh, but at the same time, the absurdly early riser that usually occupied the other end of the bed would have already vacated it. Judging by the temperature of the sheets, he had recently been lying beside her.
She swung her legs out from under the covers, stretching in the early morning light, wiggling her toes before getting to her feet and grabbing her robe hanging on the bathroom door, tying it closed as she headed to the kitchen.
The gruff voice was no surprise to her, a voice she had come to expect in the halls of the house they shared ever since their disastrous wedding day three years ago.
Jack Thompson was a surprise.
Even now, sitting at their kitchen table in his undershirt and boxer shorts, his long legs crossed casually as he sipped coffee while skimming the sports section of the newspaper with one hand, she still couldn’t quite wrap her head around the life she led.
His other hand deftly lifted a steaming tea pot from it’s place on a trivet and poured hot water over a tea bag sitting in a tea cup at the other place setting beside him at the kitchen table. He set the teapot back down on the table all without looking away form the sports section.
“Good Morning, Jack.”
On a whim she grabbed the sugar cubes from the cabinet and plopped one into her cup of tea. She had a feeling she would need it.
She eyed the Political section of the newspaper Jack had placed next to her teacup as she stirred her tea.
“I heard you were making the arrest today.”
“The judge should sign it as soon as he wakes up.” Peggy stated coolly. She heard the subtle gruff sigh in his voice. “Don’t start.”
“I’m not.” He held up his free hand in surrender as he casually pretended to read the paper. “Guy’s killed twenty people, it’s not like I should be worried.”
“It’s my arrest. I’m making it.” Peggy responded, still calm.
“I’m just saying, wouldn’t you rather-“ Jack started, finally putting his newspaper down.
“You don’t want to finish that ridiculous sentence, Jack.”
“I knew you’d say that.” Jack gave a gruff sigh again as he got to his feet, taking his coffee cup with him.
“You should.” Peggy countered. "I think I've demonstrated that I can handle anything that might come up."
Peggy felt Jack’s warm hand on her shoulder, his thumb caressing her two bullet wounds still stark against her creamy skin from a silly, young mistake made years ago.
“It's not like I should be worried.” Jack whispered, almost as if to himself. He leaned down and pressed his lips against her temple. “Don’t do anything stupid, Carter.”