If I was wrong I want to make it right. But you are so distant, so far away (Jackson)

He'd left her on the Friday morning with the promise he would be back soon. Soon, Victoria Newbury didn't understand. Soon was one of the loosest available terms that Jackson could have used as he had drove off to the airport, leaving Victoria to live in the silence of the aftermath.

She hadn't blamed him, of course she couldn't blame him. Jackson was going off to do the right thing. Whatever the right thing was, and her place was here. In Milwaukee. LA was where not only Jackson's future resided, but also the future of his whole campaign, and Victoria... Victoria didn't know where anything stood anymore.

The night she'd found Jackson cuddling the bottle of whiskey had been a much clearer night. Everything seemed to fit perfectly in to a world only they knew how to create. The electricity on her skin, through her body, had felt absolutely right, like no other man could ever make her feel again. No man would ever make her feel that way again.

But she'd ruined it all.

And sent Jackson back to Tessa.

The witch had moved past George in a pair of Jackson's shorts, and an oversized t-shirt without looking up to the man as she greeted him. George hadn't made a comment on her absence, nor her choice of clothes, instead simply moving to see her up to her apartment. She'd thanked the man as he offered to get her anything she needed, and after politely declining the man's offer, Victoria had locked herself in her apartment.

The stillness consumed her in only a moment, making her hesitate on the threshold of her home. The quietness making her own breathing sound much too loud as she forgot how to function without Jackson beside her. Guiding her. Giving her a reason to keep moving forward. To cook, to clean herself up. Her phone came to hand only a moment later as Victoria unlocked the screen, and clicked straight to the WhatsApp application.

In my apartment safely. Have a safe flight, and please let me know when you've landed safely. Victoria x

The 'x' at the end of the text had, for once, been a source of hesitation, before the witch hit send and told herself not to over think it. Coming out of the chat with Jackson, Victoria had then moved to the second chat, Azalea.

Hey Azalea, how are you? Excited to see Ethan and Josh today? How was your teaching this week? I miss you so much, I wish you could come Stateside! Victoria xxx

Then, the work group chat. Nothing new had been posted. Victoria had stayed upon the threshold of her home without knowing what to do, in truth, trying to decide what to do. Her nervousness only growing about being alone with each second.

The vibration of her phone in her hand made the witch squeak as she jumped, dropping the phone on the floor before she realised what the sound was. For a few moments, the witch stood trying to catch her breath, before she slowly bent down and picked up her phone. Azalea had replied, and Victoria shot back with more questions about the older witch's life, her week, anything. The questions drew Victoria in to the lounge, on to the sofa, as she replied. Azalea answered each question in turn, before turning them back at Victoria.

For half an hour, Victoria didn't reply, staring blankly at the question of how she was, how Jackson was, and what was new as if she'd been called out.

Another half an hour passed with Victoria using the time to shower and change out of Jackson's clothes.

Jackson text to say he'd boarded his plane and that he would text her when he landed.

Victoria had looked back at Azalea's text nervously.

And then not replied again.

It was four hours, and a tone of procrastinating -- whilst not achieving anything -- before Victoria replied to Azalea's text.

Rewriting the sentence again and again to try to explain what she and Jackson had done. Finding each more crass than the other and deleting it because it didn't explain what they'd done. When finally Victoria had text to say that the two of them had done something that had changed their relationship entirely, Azalea had been calling her only two seconds later.

The conversation had been one sided, mostly, after Azalea's question of what had happened, Victori had explained how she'd found Jackson. How she'd tried to clean the man up. How he'd pulled her in to the bath with him, and then how they'd spent the night together, not letting one another go, finding
a bliss like no other before.

It was as Victoria was nearing the next morning that she realised.

Azalea didn't know...

Her explanation had faltered. Azalea hadn't missed the unspoken signs of something being wrong.

The question of whether she was hurt had been very quickly and very firmly rebuked. Jackson would never hurt her in that manner. Jackson was a good man. Jackson wouldn't. Azalea had had to calm the younger witch down in that moment, but the worry had sounded clear in the Nightshade's voice as she reminded the witch that she had support here if she needed it. If she needed a break.

The idea of having Jackson thought in a bad light had spurred Victoria on.

The whole story took hours to tell. The tears fell freely, and Victoria's voice broke as she explained that Jackson hadn't hurt her, but another man had. The man hadn't been named to Azalea, but Victoria was sure that the older witch knew that Jackson was not that man. The mistake the young politician had made in the kitchen that morning was not one that he would ever have done knowingly, and that she was the problem, not the man she loved.

Azalea hadn't known what to say. Her offers continued to come, that Victoria should come home. That she could come there for the weekend. But Victoria had told her that she couldn't pull her away from Josh and Ethan at such short notice. She was just grateful to have been able to tell someone, someone who was not Jackson, about what had happened. The final part that had been said hours after the conversation had started was that no matter the hour, Victoria could ring the older witch, just to talk, or else just to listen, and she didn't have to bottle it all up. Victoria had thanked the witch deeply for the help -- even if the advice about what to do with the case of Jackson hadn't really been much more than to do what she felt was right.

The sky was getting dark by the time Victoria hung up, and once again, she was alone.

Moving to her bed, Victoria had curled up in the blankets, checking her phone and replying to Jackson's messages to tell him she was okay, and that she was going to bed. Sleep didn't come for hours, though, the witch lay curled up in the tightest of cocoons. The early hour of bed Jackson had queried had turned in to the early hours, and at some point the witch had drifted off, waking in a cold sweat after Jameson's hands had been on her body, pressing her flush against the wall as he demanded she tell him what she wanted.

The witch had moved to the sofa, turning on the television. Curling up in the blanket that held Jackson's scent upon it from his frequent use of the blanket, the witch watched the screen without seeing, waiting for the next nightmare to take hold.

It repeated, throughout the night. The nightmares only growing more intense. The witch had finally given up at five in the morning. Getting up from the sofa, Victoria had made herself some cereal, only realising after she'd poured the milk over it that the milk had turned. Frustrated, the witch had thrown the rest out, and opened the cupboard. No bread.

Sighing, the witch had ordered food in to her home, and the day of staring blankly at the television, hiding in the blanket that smelled of Jackson commenced. Texts came and went, from Jackson, from Azalea, and from the office. Victoria answered each of them promptly, enjoying the distractions as they came, but the silence only grew with the hours that stretched out during the day. The food that she'd ordered in had barely been touched, and the witch sat through each hour of television without knowing what had happened.

The laptop had not provided anything new from the checks she'd made from her phone, and after the sun had gone down, Victoria retreated to the bath tub, once again trying to find a calm, a warmth that would not come without Jackson by her side.

Jackson's texts continued to come through, followed by Azalea's texts denoting something Ethan had done that day that had amused her, or awed her, or made her feel proud. The distractions were useful, but not enough, and as evening found its way back in to being, and the witch crawled in to bed, exhaustion crept through her system once more, making the witch fall in to a peaceful sleep. Only a couple of hours passed, though, the peace lulling her in to a false sense of security. The image of Wyatt Jameson came back in full force in the remaining hours, jolting the witch awake with cries for help, calling out for Jackson to find that he wasn't there. Again, the witch would resettle herself in bed, trying to make out shapes that weren't there in the dark.

A few times the witch had wanted to reach for her phone, to call Jackson.

But Jackson was with Tessa, and Victoria refused to put herself between them again...

The morning sun rose early, and Victoria hauled herself from bed. Heading straight for the shower to get rid of the smell of sweat that clung to her small frame, trying to rid the feeling of disgust that clung to her body, suffocating her with every sense that she'd tried to ignore from that night. Her laptop had been on before seven o'clock that morning, the drafted bill up before her to read over to ensure she hadn't missed anything.

Not that her sleep deprived mind could focus on the legislation she'd written, the words merged, and swam across the page, mocking her for not being able to concentrate.

Mocking her for not being a normal human being.

For being broken, and no good for the man she loved.

The witch's phone pinged beside her.

Jackson.

Checking up on her again.

Telling her that he was coming home today.

The swell of excitement bubbled in the witch's stomach. A small smile touched her lips as she read the message, even though it didn't mention him coming to her.

The draft bill was closed down, the internet opened. Food, Victoria thought to herself without second guessing, if Jackson was coming home, she would need food for him. The one thing the witch had not thought about for herself the last two days had become clear once more.

Jackson was her clarity.

He'd always been her clarity.

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If I was wrong I want to make it right. But you are so distant, so far away (Jackson) 1456798973

The flight back on Sunday evening had been uneventful. Thankfully, the meeting on Friday night had gone off without too many problems. Though whether the problems were done or just starting, Jackson couldn't say. It had certainly given him a lot to think about on his way back to his hotel.

Saturday had been spent cleaning up. His clothes from the day before thrown out, new ones shopped for (for the effeminate male shopping assistant had brought him too many options despite the fact that Jackson was in too much of a hurry to try anything on, much to the assistant's disappointment) and the rest of his stuff gathered.

He had considered calling Tessa to check if she as doing any better but fear of ehr ire had stopped him along with the silent consolation that ehr left would look after her. Instead, he found himself walking the street markets in the evening and picking out a little soemthing for Dominique.

How old was the kid now? Twelve? Thirteen? Was she too old for dolls? The politician felt immensely guilty not knowing and picked her out one anyway. Though it was LA so the doll was a cabbage patch vintage by some up and coming designer and came with different clothes and sunglasses and hats. He had the present wrapped up and gave the Hogwarts address where the kid would be, opting for immediate shipping along with purchase. The doll would come with a tag that said "From your uncle Jackson".

He had walked some more after that, finally stopping at an Indian store selling dream catchers. Feeling foolish yet hopeful, he'd bought an entirely too pink one, making the native American lady selling them smile kindly and guess it was for his daughter.

Having slept late after perusing the progress on HR420 for hours, Jackson had woken up well after nine, sending Victoria another text to let her know he would be heading to the airport after lunch. Still here was no news from Fox, nothing suggested his and Tessa's breakup had been ousted and he considered calling again but backed out. If she had started getting better, the wizard didn't want to undo all that progress.

Much of the morning was spent communicating back and forth about work and in the afternoon, after a few protein bars for lunch, Jackson had set out for the airport, his file on the bill still with him. He was still reading when he landed, only shoving it into his bag when he entered the check out line at customs.

As usual, Victoria had made sure there was a car waiting and for once, Jackson wished she hadn't. Driving would have taken his mind off things but now he was sat in the back seat, wondering where they went from here. Would Victoria want to move on and pretend what had happened had not? Or did they now find a new normal given their circumstances. Telling the driver to head to his old apartment instead of the big home, Jackson fiddled with the end of his jacket all the way, never having felt this uncertain his entire life.

His career was hanging off the side of a cliff, his personal life was no better and he was ill equipped to deal with all of it.

He supped there was always Green Lake to retreat to. perhaps his city days were well and truly over.

"Sir," the chauffeur spoke up, interrupting his thoughts and subtly pointing out they were at their destination. George came around not a minute later, greeting the Senator and taking the one travel bag Jackson had traveled with. Once George had been properly tipped and Jackson's luggage and himself left at the doorstep, he rang the bell.

Time to face the music, no matter what kind it may be.

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If I was wrong I want to make it right. But you are so distant, so far away (Jackson) Rsz_mi10

If I was wrong I want to make it right. But you are so distant, so far away (Jackson) Rsz_ja12

If I was wrong I want to make it right. But you are so distant, so far away (Jackson) Rsz_rs13

Since finding out Jackson would be home that evening, Victoria had spent the day surrounded by a nervous energy. The food had arrived shortly after lunch time, restocking Victoria's fridge and cupboards completely. From there, the witch had set about cooking on mass. Even if Jackson didn't show today, he would need lunch for the rest of the week, so her hands had been kept busy following family recipe after family recipe of the foods Jackson had liked the most.

Hours later, the mixed aromas of curries, stews, lamb tagines, spaghetti bolognese and more filled the small apartment.

When the cooking had finished, and Jackson's flight had still not landed, the witch had turned her focus to the apartment instead. Cleaning every space visible in her worry over what the man was going to say upon his arrival -- if he came to see her -- the witch had managed to deep clean every room in three hours.

Jackson had still not landed.

The witch had then retreated to the bathroom, washing herself thoroughly, brushing her hair out of the tangled mess it had become over the weekend, and then finally changing in to a pair of 'boyfriend' jeans and a overly large sweater to keep herself warm.

It was only then that Victoria's phone had announced that Jackson had arrived at the airport, and the driver was bringing him to her apartment. Leaving her hair to fall down in neat waves across her shoulders, Victoria had returned to the kitchen, finding out the spaghetti pasta from the cupboard and setting it on to boil. If Jackson was coming here, straight off of his flight, he was going to need food. The oven was turned back on to action, a tray filled with two baguettes of garlic bread, and put in to cook.

It took only a few moments for glasses to be reached down, ready to accommodate Jackson's drink of choice. The two glasses had only just been set down when the doorbell rang, making the small witch jump nervously as she turned towards it.

How the evening was going to go, Victoria would never be able to guess.

She didn't want to guess.

Wiping her hands on the tea towel before putting it back on the side, the witch moved to the door, reaching up on to the very tips of her toes to check that it was Jackson through the peephole before she undid the latch, and then the lock to admit him.

"Hi..." Victoria greeted, the smile on her lips as always, but with the underlying nervous edge. What happened if Jackson had reconciled with Tessa? What if he regretted everything they'd done? What if they couldn't go back now? What if he was here to ask her to resign? Stepping aside to let the man in, Victoria waited for him to pass her before closing the door, and lock it out of habit. "I've made us dinner, I assumed you won't have eaten on your journey back. It's spaghetti bolognese."

Knowing the man would likely show himself through to the living room, Victoria turned back in to the kitchen. "Would you like a drink? Water, squash, juice? Something hot maybe?"

Small talk... this is where she was at now, Victoria berated herself for that much, but she was too scared to ask Jackson what had been said in LA. Too scared to come to the finality of everything they had. Holding on to the last hopes she had before he walked out of her life...

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The door opened an the first thing that hit Jackson was the aroma. The whole apartment smelt like the last season of Masterchef had been conducted in the tiny space. And hidden among all those flavors was Victoria's tiny, unobtrusive scent. The man wanted to move to wrap his arms around her, but when she hung back, he did the same. Instead using his hands to the pursuit of the noble cause of bringing in his bag and closing the door behind him.

"This place smells amazing," he noted instead of a hello, taking in a deep breath and feeling the tiredness of the day melt away. "What have you been up to?"

"I've made us dinner, I assumed you won't have eaten on your journey back. It's spaghetti bolognese."

"Sounds perfect, let me just go wash up." To her question of a drink, he merely mumbled a "coke's fine" over his shoulder as he headed to the bathroom. It took only a few minutes for him to wash his hands and scrub the tiredness from his eyes. How even first class cabins did not make seats big enough for someone of his height and built, Jackson would never know but that was indeed the case. He had only properly stretched out after disembarking.

Splashing water on his face and a little down his dark shirt, Jackson popped open the first few buttons to allow more breathing room before exiting to a perfectly set table.

Sitting down at the table, the an helped himself to a large portion of the pasta, gulping down his coke in two sips and refilling it a second time. the hunger he hand't even realized he'd been feeling for the last two days was back in full force at being exposed to the Goblin's cooking again.

"Good weekend?" he asked through a mouthful of bolognese. "What all did you get up to?" Perhaps she had gone shopping given the food. Or a weekend trip to the office which wasn't uncommon for her.

Or she may have gone to his house and packed up all her things from there.

"Any emails from... LA?" he aided tentatively, wondering if the news of their dissolved partnership would drop more formally than he had expected, via a proper email that will reach the staff before him, sending everyone into a panic.

Not wanting to think on that, the politician pushed another forkful of pasta into his mouth, waiting for Victoria to reply.

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As Jackson moved to clean himself up, Victoria busied herself with the food. Setting the table with the coke he'd asked for whilst getting herself a glass of water, the witch returned to the kitchen to get the pasta and the bolognese ready. Mixing them together thoroughly, she served Jackson a more than hearty helping, whilst leaving her own smaller portion on her plate. The leftovers situated neatly in the middle of the table, beside the garlic bread in the universal sign that Jackson would know by now that he could help himself to more if she hadn't given him enough.

The food had only just touched the table when Jackson emerged from the bathroom, looking fresher in himself, and... the witch's eyes averted to the somewhat opened shirt that Jackson was now showing off, trying not to allow herself to fall down the same hole again.

The man had sat down and tucked in straight away, making the witch smile fondly at him. Despite everything that had happened, Jackson's mannerisms hadn't changed, and food still remained his weakness in that moment.

"Good weekend?"

"I had a quiet weekend," Victoria replied softly as she loaded up her fork but didn't move to bring it to her mouth. "Kept an eye on my emails, and read over HR420 again to try to make sure that the bill is airtight. I still think I'm missing something, but I will find it." The witch explained, making it out to be much more than it was because she didn't really want to tell Jackson she'd spent the majority of the weekend in something of a stupor without him.

Nor did she want to tell him that she'd spoken to Azalea, about everything.

But the question about LA made the witch second guess her previous decision.

News from LA?

Did Jackson...

"We... haven't heard anything from LA." Victoria replied carefully, but her gaze becoming curious as she watched Jackson push another mouthful of spaghetti in to his mouth. "Did... you tell Tessa?" The witch asked, unable to stop herself from wanting to know what had happened whilst Jackson was away. Did this mean...? Did she need to be working on a contingency plan? Were they... what... The guilt came back anew, not knowing how in the world Tessa must be feeling if she knew what had gone on between Jackson and her. It had never been Victoria's intention to hurt the Californian witch, Merlin knew Tessa had been through enough in recent years.

But even though the witch felt guilty for hurting Tessa, she didn't regret what she'd done.

"Are you okay..?"

The last question was asked softly, because Victoria didn't know if Jackson would want to talk about it with her. The offer was there, though, as it always had been, as it always would be. No matter what happened to them, between them, it would never change that fact. Jackson Blake had to be alright, because if he wasn't, she could never be.

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The princess's admission of a quiet weekend came as a relief, though Jackson hoped it didn't show on his face. Despite her hesitance in everything, she had at least not taken steps to distance herself from him. And that was better than the alternative. Her confirmation that there and't been news from LA confirmed that he had more time. Though probably not much. Tessa wouldn't remain in shock and grief forever. And though he hated to think of her as a vengeful and petty person, there was nothing saying she wouldn't make good on her angry promise of payback.

Perceptive as ever, Victoria picked up on the thought immediately.

"Did... you tell Tessa?"

"We called it off," he explained shortly, putting down his fork but not quite managing to look up at Victoria as he spoke. He had hurt Tessa enough without now having to tell people that he was the one to break up with her. No woman deserved to lsoe ehr pride like that.

"It wouldn't have been fair to her if we kept going, and she didn't need to know the details, just that it was my fault and no one else's." That much was true anyway. Well that and he couldn't exactly tell Victoria that he would go to ends of the earth to protect her.

"She was upset, rightly so. And I guess we really need to get HR240 for the floor." I don't know how much time we'll have. Hopefully once the bill was heard, at leas the issue of funding wouldn't matter. If they went down, they would at least go down fighting.

"Are you okay..?"

This time, the man did raise his gaze to her, the question reflected back in those two dark pools of ebony. Was he okay breaking up with Tessa? No, he wasn't, but he knew he would be. Was he okay with the possibility of losing his career? Certainly not, but with time, and a lot more work, and perhaps some cunning, he could get back on his feet.

Was he okay siting here with Victoria in a tense, awkward dinner where conversation felt stiff and stilted?

Absolutely.

Because he was with her.

"Are you?" he asked, his eyes not leaving her own.

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The news of the break up should have made Victoria feel upset, sad, at least some kind of emotion other than the ones that filled her small frame in that moment. Relief, happiness, hope... They should not have been present as Jackson slowly put his fork down and refused to look at her.

Without hesitation the witch gently laid her own hand down atop Jackson's, comforting him as he told her that he had taken full blame for their actions. He hadn't needed to do that, shouldn't have, but there was no use trying to tell Jackson that now it was all done. Instead, the witch's thumb drew gentle, soothing circles in to the back of Jackson's hand, telling him without words that it was okay. That she appreciated his honesty, and was thankful he hadn't named her.

"And I guess we really need to get HR240 for the floor."

It didn't need to be said twice, the unspoken words enough for Victoria to understand. Their time was running short with the man's decision to break things off with Tessa. Though, really, it has been their own fault, and now they were back where they had been months before now, fighting to survive another month before they ran out of funding. Any other reason for funding to be pulled, Victoria might have suggested trying to fight against the loss, but they had nothing to say to defend themselves, nothing to give Tessa in return, and so they would be fighting the upward battle of staying afloat.

But they would do it together, as they always had.

"I'll make sure that everything is in place to go by the middle of this week." Victoria replied to that, her usual confidence filling her words when she spoke of Jackson's work, because she would fight tooth and nail until his work was heard, funding or not.

Whatever Victoria had expected Jackson to say about how he was, the witch had at least expected something. But Jackson's eyes had simply moved up to hers, making the thumb upon the back of his palm slow to a stop. The look in his eyes denoted that he wasn't okay, her question had been silly in that regard, but there was something more...

"Are you?"

His eyes upon hers brought forth a smile, one that she held on to nervously as her thumb started anew with the circles on his hand. "Now that you're home, I am." She confided ever so softly, her eyes not leaving his because he needed to know. He needed to see. That without him, she could never be okay, never be whole, never be herself.

But he was here, and life was drawing back in to her body with just that much. The warmth of his hand in hers only showing that this was real, Jackson was here, and things were okay, she was safe.

"I missed you," Victoria finalised, hoping Jackson would find himself understanding, that without him, she didn't have a purpose in this world, and that she simply couldn't lose him, to anyone, or anything.

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Her light fingertips on the back of his hand felt like cool water after an intense workout. Jackson had never known his hand to be stressed until Victoria started stroking it gently, relieving the tension in his knuckles and making him internally sigh with relief.

She also picked up on the urgency around their bill, promising to have the final paperwork ready by midweek. how she would do that, Jackson had no idea as several key details were still missing but the confidence with which she spoke made him want to believe her. It was the witch's unwavering faith in him and their cause that had gotten him this far and Jackson was sure it would be the only thing that would save them now.

The small touches continued, making it a little fuzzy to focus but that one could be blamed on travel. One of the first things he had learned from the meeting was how not to interpret every innocent gesture as an invitation. Normally, the politician would have drawn her closer, kissed her more fondly, breathed in the scent of her hair which reminded him of coming home.

But this was her show now. And it would always be.

Because he never wanted to see Victoria as cold and terrified ever again. hat was simply never going to happen.

"I missed you,"

"You're telling me?" he answered, trying to revert the situation back to its light tempo. "I was counting the minutes to my flight back. Though i did take an hour or so to go wander around one of those open air markets. Got Dominique a present." It was the least the kid deserved, especially after Victoria had taken over all correspondence duties with the child.

"I... got you something too, if you'd like. It's nothing big, I just saw it and it made me think of you." Along with everything else, he refrained from saying, picking up his fork with a free hand and digging back into the plate of pasta.

Their tone may have moved to casual but Jackson made no move to free his hand from her gentle ministrations, figuring he could take what he could get and be thankful for it. There was a long road to recovery but he would walk anywhere with her.

And he wanted Victoria to know that, beyond a doubt. He would always choose the path that lead to her.

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The idea that Jackson had been counting the minutes until he would be back had the witch's heart surging with hope, the way he spoke of missing her as casually as he had made her feel... lighter than she had in days as the hint of the man's feelings reciprocating her own was announced. The uncertainty of where they stood was still there, but... if he'd been counting down the time until he was back, just as she had waited painstakingly through each minute for his return...

"Got Dominique a present."

But that confused the witch.

"I'm sure she will love it, every time she writes, she asks of you, and when she can see you. A present from you will be cherished, I'm sure." The witch responded positively, because she knew Dominique enough by now to know that the child doted on Jackson, and wanted his attention more than anything else. A present wouldn't make up for the fact Jackson had not written to the child himself since Victoria had been in this country, but it was a start.

"I... got you something too, if you'd like. It's nothing big, I just saw it and it made me think of you."

The smile blossomed on Victoria's lips, even as the soft hint of pink filled her cheeks. When it had become so easy for the man to invoke such reactions in her, Victoria didn't know, but at least she could say that she didn't feel uncomfortable when he said such things. "Finish your dinner first, and then you can show me." Victoria told the man, though not in a manner that would suggest she wasn't interested in what he'd gotten for her, Jackson just needed to fill his stomach after a long day of travelling, and a weekend full of... well, the witch wouldn't like to guess how Jackson felt in the aftermath of everything that had happened in the last ten days, but she knew that whatever feelings the man had, she would support him through it all.

And so long as his hand remained in hers, and Jackson didn't leave her all on her own again in the near future, there was nothing the man could ever buy for her that would mean more.

Taking another forkful of pasta, Victoria ate through it carefully, small victories one at a time as she managed to get through the first meal she'd eaten all weekend. Jackson didn't have to know she'd starved herself, he didn't need to know that she'd not been able to do anything without him near, all he needed was for her to function now that he was here. Home, where he should have been.

But before any gifts were given, before the meal would disappear completely, there was just one thing the witch needed to know. Needed to be sure of, to know that everything was still okay. That they were going to make it through all of this. A question that didn't need to be spoken in more than a whisper from the fear of losing everything she'd ever needed in her life.

"Will you stay with me tonight, please, Jax..?"

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"Finish your dinner first, and then you can show me."

"Yes Ma'am," the politician replied obediently, his southern upbringing making an appearance like it always did when she was sheepish. Shoveling another forkful of pasta into his mouth, the man tried not to grin.

because even though they had both resumed their meal, she was still holding on to his hand.

The dinner continued in the pleasant silence Jackson had long come to associate with the princess, most of the noise coming from from his side of the table as he chewed and swallowed the food appreciatively. Victoria's cooking was almost worth giving up his entire career.

Or, who was he kidding, it was definitely worth giving up his entire career for. Perhaps they could move back to Green Lake and he could grow fat on her homemade meals. the whole tiny town could.

It was the witch who spoke up next, making him look at her with something akin to surprise in his features. The fact that she still needed to ask... The uncertainty with which she did. Didn't Victoria realize she owned him now? It was simply a law of the universe in this new normal.

"I'll stay as long as you want me to, kiddo," he promised, his intense gaze meeting hers once more, this time ablaze with the promise he had just made. It was a promise made in earnest.

And one Jackson Blake would go on keeping for the rest of his life.

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» I could make you happy, Make your dreams come true (One Shot)
» Make your jaw drop, make you say "Oh My God" (Jazalea)
» What is Wrong With You? (Elenore)
» Wrong Number (Delia)
» Take my hand, we'll make it I swear (Vickson)