Grey

Replaces "Gray"

## Meta

**Timing:** 26 January 2024, a few hours before "January 26"

**Setting:** The 2nd Darling-Jones house

## Text

The wrong side of midnight and Charlie's in the kitchen setting freshly-baked cookies (oatmeal-raisin-walnut) out to cool, trying really hard not to think how long it's been since they've let Jackson visit.

Seeing him at daycare is wonderful, but their bed's never gotten smaller or less empty.

And, now, that idiot Logan's done something stupid and they're both in shit with the stupid Suits, so who knows wh—

A tentative knock on the door.

Charlie listens.

Another soft rap.

She washes her hands, pads across the house, checks the peephole. Her heart stutters and she flings open the door.

Jackson, on the mat, sketches a wave.

The two Uniforms flanking him release his arms, tilt their stupid hats, stroll back to their stupid black ute.

"Hey, Darling," murmurs Jackson, looking in the vicinity of Charlie's right knee.

"Hey, Jones," breathes Charlie, taking his hand.

Jackson's grip is weak, his hand cold, clammy, and trembling.

Charlie tugs him inside—

Jackson trips on the threshold—

—closes the door behind them.

—exhales, lets his shoulders slump.

She presses herself close, brings as much of them into contact as she can, laces her fingers behind his neck.

Jackson wraps his arms around her waist.

"You look terrible."

He nods, mumbles into her hair, "Really bad day."

"Worse than usual?"

"Yea," shakily. "The ... the May brothers died. The other VS—" Shudders.

"'m so sorry, Jackson," murmurs Charlie, squeezing him tighter.

"They're nice guys, sweet ... young—"

"'m so sorry."

"—a-and we're so /**old**—"

"Stop it. You're not old."

"I'm /**grey**."

"Jones, stop it."

"Firefly, I didn't have **any** when I— It just—"

"Jackson ...."

"—started coming in like /**crazy** right after—"

"Stop—"

"—that photo ... thing." He sighs, a puff of air down Charlie's back, whispers, "I'm losing so much time."

"'s only—"

"Three-quarters of Baby's life, so far." Buries his face against Charlie's neck. "Bean forgot I was 'dad'."

"Baby thought the Drivesuit stole your voice. Never once thought you weren't 'dad'." Tries to get a good look at him. "Isn't that a good thing?"

Hugs her closer.

"Jackson, please stop. This won't be forever."

He shudders. "I really hope you're right."

"I'm the smartest person you know: of course I'm right," says Charlie with more confidence than she feels.

Jackson almost laughs, does smile against her skin. Squares his shoulders, takes a deep breath, lifts his head a little. "Beans asleep?"

"Mmhmm."

"And you're dressed, which means you couldn't sleep and're baking."

Charlie smiles. "Cookies are fresh from the oven."

[the following has been canabilized from a potential 'jackson escapes ficlet:

Tugs him to the couch. "Go sit down and I'll get you something to eat."

"I love you," coos Jackson.

"I know." Chuck pecks him in the cheek. "Now shoo."

.

A piping hot container enters from stage left.

"Thank you," he replies, accepting it and there's a Chuck arm—

"You're welcome," says Chuck from his right.

"Sneaky," grins Jackson and takes a bite and good lord this is amazing.

"There's pie warming, too."

He covers his mouth. "You're the best."

"Yup." She kisses his jaw. "Anything to drink?"

"I'll get it--"

"You stay put--"

"But--"

"May I be spouse-y?"

Jackson's smile's huge and watery.

Charlie smiles back, cards his hair, kisses his cheek, and returns to the kitchen.]