Title: Last Call, Part 1/3

Pairing: Jack/Nathan

Rating: PG, overall NC-17

Word Count: 2700 this part.

Warnings: Spoilers through Season 2, especially certain cliffhangers from episode 213, "A Night in Global Dynamics".

Disclaimer: Don't own them, but if I did, this is how season 3 would kick off.

A/N: First Eureka Fic! Feedback greatly appreciated and given cookies… well, okay, maybe not real cookies…

Jack sauntered into Café Diem, whistling happily. Jo had handled the one previous drunk-bus call from Vince during his tenure in Eureka. There was something completely amusing to Jack about the idea of the smartest people in the world getting smashed and needing to be driven home by him. "Hey, Vince!" he greeted the man behind the counter. "Where's my inebriate?"

Vince rolled his eyes and flapped a dishcloth toward a darkened corner. "Over there. He's been alternating between handsy with everyone and nearly lopping off your head with his crankiness." Vince looked appraisingly at Jack. "Though I imagine you'll only have problems with one of those when he sees you."

Jack leaned over a little further so he could see the drunken sprawl of Nathan Stark. His tie had somehow landed half in an abandoned mug of coffee and half off the table, while his shirt had more buttons undone than fastened. His suit jacket was nowhere to be found. "Oh yeah, he'll be just thrilled to see me," he agreed sarcastically. He sighed, straightened up, and walked warily up to Stark's table, missing Vince's smirk.

"Sheriff!" Stark greeted him, taking Jack aback with his overly cheerful tone. "You should have a drink. Toast the fact that you've won."

"Yeah," Jack rolled back onto his heels and forward again, dragging out the word. "Except I'm on duty, and Vince just cut you off."

"Huh," Stark peered into the now empty sifter on his table. "Thought I had some left. I've decided drunk cancels the laws of fysi--, pixy--, psychics. Those, you know?"

"Uh huh," Jack said, cocking an eyebrow back at Vince, who shrugged helplessly. "Never let him get this drunk again, understand?" he said, surprised by his own protective anger curling tightly in his gut.

"You got it, Sheriff, but…" Vince bit his lip, looking helpless. "I figured he was kind of entitled, this once."

"Yeah, I'm sure he was," Jack replied dryly. "Come on, Stark, let's get you home so you can sleep off whatever project disaster brought this on."

He put an arm under Stark's elbow, helping him stand, only to wrap and arm around the other man's waist to hold him up. Stark grabbed onto his shoulders, crumpling against him. "Ver' nice," he slurred, his hand suddenly petting Jack's chest.

"Handsy, huh?" Jack quipped, catching the grin Vince was trying to hide. "Got his keys?"

"Here," Vince tossed them into Carter's free one, and Carter pocketed them. "Have a good night."

"Thanks," Jack replied, staggering a little under Stark's weight. "You're heavier than I thought," he grumbled, awkwardly maneuvering Stark and himself through the door Vince held open for them.

"Think about me often?" Stark quipped, and suddenly his hand was sliding along the ridge where Jack's pants met his shirt.

"You're going to hate yourself tomorrow if you remember this," Jack groaned, willing his body not to react. He slapped Stark's hand away, and managed to get him into the passenger seat of his Jeep.

"Jo, this is Carter. I've just picked up Stark and am taking him home, over." There was a long pause after Jack said this, and he could imagine Jo's jaw dropping.

"Carter, come back, I could have sworn you just said Stark was your drunk call, over."

"That's an affirmative," Jack managed, noticing that Stark was suddenly digging through the glove box. "I'm going to head home from there unless you need anything, over."

"Nah, sounds like you got the worst of the evening. Have a good night, over and out."

"Get out of there," Jack said, pushing Stark back in his seat. He reached across the man, buckling him in. Stark fortunately lapsed into a quiet phase, his head lolling against the window. "Of all the times not to have a camera," Jack muttered, starting the Jeep.

After a moment, he became aware of Stark rummaging in his pockets. "Lost my keys," the scientist muttered, his voice so drugged and drained that Jack snorted, trying to contain his laughter.

"I've got them," Jack told him. "And when you can pass a field sobriety test, you can have them back." He swerved suddenly as Stark's fingers were suddenly groping inside his pocket, looking for his keys. "Hey, stop," he protested.

"Shy, Sheriff?" Stark was chuckling now, his fingers moving deliberately along Jack's thigh and deeper into his pocket.

"Yeah, I'm thinking Allison wouldn't be too happy with you about this," Jack said, his mind racing. He reached down and covered Nathan's hand with his own. He winced as he heard his own thought. "Nath- Stark, you need to stop. I don't know what you're trying to drown tonight, but I don't think trying to start something with me is going to help you feel better tomorrow."

Stark sighed, suddenly tearing his hand away from Jack's. "Allie doesn't get a say, she told me no," he growled.

"She does that all the time," Jack remarked, losing his patience. "What crazy project of yours did she say no to?"

"Marrying me again," Stark admitted, his tone suddenly a little too solemn and sober for Jack's liking. "What a surprise, she doesn't want me. No one seems to want me tonight."

"Everyone is avoiding taking advantage of you while you're drunk," Jack replied sensibly, carefully not responding to the first half of what Stark said. "You can make their lives a living hell. They all either work for you or work for Allison."

"You don't," Stark replied, rolling in his seat back toward Jack. "Not really."

"See, now I know you're too drunk to remember any of this. No way you ever admit that sober," Jack groused. "Why don't I have a video camera?"

"I suppose I wouldn't proposition you sober," Stark mused.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Stark, you're straight. You wouldn't proposition any guy while sober. You're the only drunk in history to use the word proposition correctly though."

"No, I even tried to tell you once that I swung both ways, but as usual, right over your head." Jack remained silent, not sure how to respond. Stark, likewise, lapsed into quiet contemplation, staring at Jack.

Jack pulled into Stark's driveway, and looked over, considering the other man for a long moment. He sighed, turning off the Jeep and climbing out. He pulled Stark's door open to find he had wormed out of his seatbelt and now slid into Jack's arms. "Okay, easy," Jack said as the other man grabbed onto him.

"I knew you cared," Stark murmured, his lips brushing against Jack's throat in a way that made him need to brace against his knees buckling. Jack had started to pull Stark upright again when the lips against the side of his neck slipped from talking to planting tiny kisses and nips.

"You need to stop," Jack managed to gasp, weakly pushing at Stark's shoulders. His body shuddered as a trill of pleasure slid down his spine. "Geez, Vince said you were handsy, but he didn't mention you kissing half the town."

"Didn't try to kiss half the town," Stark said, suddenly straightening up and pushing Jack up against the side of the Jeep. The sudden display of dominance was undermined by how he collapsed bonelessly against the sheriff. "Just tryin' to kiss you, Carter."

Jack was about to respond when Stark eagerly surged forward, attempting to cover Jack's lips with his own. Jack reluctantly turned his head so Stark's lips slid to his cheek instead. He hauled him up carefully, sighing. "You're drunk and upset about Allison," Jack told the inebriated scientist. "I'm putting you to bed, and if you remember this tomorrow, we can talk then."

"Promise?" Stark asked, suddenly letting out a dark chuckle that on any other man, Jack would have described as giggling. "Okay, Sheriff Jack."

"God, please never get drunk again," Jack said to himself as he hauled Stark up to his front door. He pulled Stark's keys out and got the door open one handed. There seemed to be far too many pieces of furniture between the door and the bedroom. Finally maneuvering the drunken man to his bed, he meant to lower Stark easily to the mattress. Stark had ideas of his own and pulled free of Jack's grip. He collapsed onto the bed, curling inward.

"Okay, good," Jack decided, reaching down and carefully removing the other man's shoes. He paused, considering. Stark's eyes were closed. He carefully undid Stark's belt as well and removed it slowly. He hesitated, but morbid curiosity and lust had overridden his common sense. His fingers found the buttons on Stark… Nathan's shirt. If he was going to admit to having feelings for the other man, he supposed he could start allowing himself to think of Nathan by his first name. He stripped Nathan down to his boxers, and then tucked the other man in, pausing to gently kiss him on the forehead.

"Knew you cared," Nathan murmured sleepily. "Stay?"

"I'll be on the couch," Jack compromised, sighing inwardly. This would be trouble, he was sure. He grabbed his cell phone and called Zoë. "Hey, kiddo."

"You on your way home?" she asked, and Jack could hear her yawn.

"I'm actually going to crash over at Stark's place for tonight. He got himself pretty drunk and wound up tonight. The last thing we need is for him to go wander and start more trouble right now. You okay on your own?"

"Yeah, Dad, I'm fine. Do you think he's going to be okay?"

"We'll see how he's feeling in the morning, but I think he'll be back to his usual self."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone. "He always seems so in control, but loosing Allison…" Zoë remarked. "Dad, I know you and him don't get along, but do you think you can—"

"Yeah," Jack agreed easily. "Yeah, I know, Zoë. You already heard what happened?"

"Well, I heard from Jo, when she called to let me know where you were, but by now, I'm sure Vince has told…"

"Okay, I get it, the whole town knows. Gotta love the small town grape vine," Jack groaned, rubbing his temples. "All right, I'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Dad."

"Night," Jack echoed, snapping his phone shut. He eyed Stark's utilitarian couch, then the overstuffed recliner, quickly deciding on the later. He dropped his belt, over shirt, and boots next to the chair. He untucked his shirt and settled into the chair, listening for sounds from the next room for a long time before he managed to fall into a light sleep.

-

Jack woke at his usual early hour and started Nathan's coffee maker. He poured a cup for himself, and waited. When Nathan didn't appear, he poured a second mug and crossed to Nathan's doorway, taking a moment to watch the man sleep. Catching himself, he crossed and set the mug down on the nightstand. "Good morning, sunshine."

Nathan opened one eye blearily. "I'd kill you, but you have coffee," he said roughly, and Jack helped Nathan into a sitting position, then eased the mug into his hands. He held up a bottle of aspirin, and Nathan held up three fingers.

"How bad are you feeling?" Jack asked sympathetically, shaking out the pills and handing them to Nathan.

"Not nearly as bad as I expected," Nathan admitted. "How much did I embarrass myself last night?"

"Not, I mean, no…"

"Sheriff, I always make a fool of myself when I drink," Nathan managed to groan, trying to get his balance as he swung his feet to the floor. "And you suck at lying. So don't bother."

Jack regarded him for a long moment. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I'll spend the day drinking water and letting my terrible memories filter back, as they usually do. Unless I did something you're going to want to arrest me for?" A touch of Nathan's usual sarcasm was back in his voice.

"No," Jack replied. His mind was racing. Nathan didn't remember the night before. He seemed to think he might, later, but Jack doubted it. He had been too drunk.

"Really bad, huh?" Nathan observed. When Jack looked up in confusion, he added, "Whatever I did last night. You have that look, and you're here this morning."

"You had a lot of people really worried," Jack admitted, shrugging. "Figured either I stayed or I had to call Fargo to come stay with you."

"God, that's something I'd never want to wake up hung over to," Nathan admitted with a wince. "Fargo," he clarified, and Jack nodded.

"You need anything?" Jack asked, suddenly feeling like an idiot. "Otherwise, I'm going to head home."

"I'll be fine," Nathan said softly. Jack turned and made it to the door before Nathan called out, "Carter?"

"Yeah?" Jack replied, not quite meeting the other man's too direct gaze.

"I didn't do anything… I mean… we okay?" Nathan asked, and Jack forced a grin.

"Don't worry about it, Scientist," he scoffed, his tone much lighter than he felt. "You didn't do anything I want to kill you for. I think I might actually like you better drunk and incoherent though," Jack joked.

"Cute, Sheriff," Nathan replied. "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but thanks for the rescue."

"Don't worry, I'm pretending I didn't hear it," Jack returned. "Your car is still down at Café Diem," he added before leaving the doorway. He went into the living room, pulling on his shoes and uniform shirt. He slung his belt on loosely, before heading out the door.

"Cold shower," Jack told himself, starting the Jeep. "Cold shower, and forget this ever happened."

Forgetting it wasn't nearly as easy as Jack had hoped. Jo pounced the minute he walked into the station. "Seriously, Carter, I gotta know. Stark, drunk? That's got to be a once in a lifetime opportunity for mocking."

"The man proposed and got shot down, Jo," Jack replied, a bit more acerbic than he meant to sound. "I think I'll pass on the mocking for now."

"Okay, chief, but you should probably know that the first thing Allison heard this morning when she came into Café Diem this morning was Vince telling…" she paused, gulping some coffee to cover her hesitation. "…some people about how Stark was all over you last night."

"Some people, huh?" Jack repeated, crossing his arms. "You and Vince should know better than to gossip, Jo."

"Come on, Carter, I got almost 200 bucks in Henry's pool riding on you and Stark," Jo wheedled, and Jack stopped, taken aback.

"I'm sorry?" he asked. "You have what on what in Henry's what?"

"Well, possibly, after the events with the purple flowers that made people crazy Fargo and I took our money off of Allison and you and went with what everyone thought was a longshot youandStark." The tempo of Jo's speaking had steadily picked up throughout her babbling as Jack's face grew dark.

"You and Fargo were betting that Stark and I would hook up?" he surmised, setting his coffee mug down so he wouldn't drop it. "Over Allison and I, and over Stark and Allison?

"And Vince and Henry," Jo squeaked, retreating behind her desk. "Hey, Dr. McClure called this morning. Taggert's robo-dog got into his flowers again, how 'bout I go deal with that?"

"Yeah, you do that," Jack replied, sitting down in his chair slowly.

"Though I imagine a lot of people will jump camps after last night, so if you could close the betting by telling me if anything happened…" Jo asked hopefully, and Jack let his head fall onto his desk with a thud.

"Go!" The sound of Jo's laughter filtered back to him; she hadn't made it to the door before she lost it. Jack left his head on the desk until the phone rang, making him rouse just enough to grab the receiver. "What?" he asked, tiredly.

"Good morning, Carter," he heard Allison's crisp cool tone, indicating she wasn't pleased. "I need you up at GD this morning."

"Great," he muttered, pushing himself to his feet again. "I'll be there soon."

"Thanks," Allison said, and then added, "Hey, Jack. Thanks for taking care of Nathan last night."

"That's what I'm here for," Jack remarked before hanging up. "Cleaning up your messes," he added darkly.