Welcome to Gaia! ::

He chuckled under his breath without looking away, still soaking it in: not just the show, but the experience of sharing it. A honeymoon under the stars, though Chel would just stick her tongue out if he said as much.

Sometime in the middle of the show his arm had gone around her shoulders, and he squeezed gently. "That was cool," he said, still hushed, like they had snuck in. "Never been to one of these before. Is this a science museum?"

"Mm..." Jack tilted his head and pushed against her hand gently, as catlike as ever. "You're the one in charge, remember? I'll follow what your schedule says."

Dictator, no, but in charge nonetheless. He wanted to see what sort of plan did a mind like Chel Craft's--like Chel Hawthorn's--create. Even for as long as he had known her, it still often felt like he didn't quite understand those machinations--and as with many things brought to his attention, he had a drive to know.

The cafe reminded him a little of the one in Athens. Twenty questions in a light drizzle, sharing a milkshake, pretending they were just pretending to be a couple while a bracelet bomb choked her wrist. A little less than a year later here they were, casually discussing what had happened at the wedding over cheap food even the cafeteria didn't serve back home, the only shining pieces of metal being their rings. He supposed that alone would have told him it wasn't a dream; Jack would never have thought he could be allowed that singular happiness, by himself or anything else Deus life brought in. It was still haunted somewhat by the reminder that this break was fleeting, and that they would return to their day to day lives of danger by sun down, but for once Jack Hawthorn wasn't dragged down by the prospect. He wouldn't be going home alone, after all.

On the walk back to the portal, he took her hand without thinking as she drew close. The question didn't surprise him; he had noticed Chel looking more and more pensive in the dips between their conversations. "What's on your mind?" he asked.

Jack frowned slightly, half in thought and half at the subject matter. Alternate universes were limitless in potential: that was the beautiful yet frightening nature of them, as they had witnessed for themselves time and time again.

"Is that a fair question to ask?" He rested his hands on her hips, thumbs slipping under to press against skin. "This is a unique situation to say the least. Without Deus, I'd probably still be in Illinois, and you'd still probably be in Tennessee. Or somewhere not as ******** cold as where I was at any rate."

(It wasn't hard to picture: her and Chris either running away or hitching a ride or somehow scrounging the money or squatting at a friend's, anything to get away from home.)

"I can't say if we would've met otherwise," Jack said honestly. "But if we had—assuming I wasn't a ******** shitlord—well...I imagine it would have been a little like that high school dream. A lot of chaffing, some disagreements, occasional eye to eye moments, eventually blossoming into a hot mess of hormonal confusion that leads to some stupid, impulsive decisions I should probably regret but never really do."

So in other words, a redo of what they had experienced.

He paused, debated adding more, and then went on, "If we meet, I think it ends up inevitable that we get caught together in something. And lucky for me at least, that something is marriage."

"It's a yes," he promised, kissing her brow when she picked her head up. If it was him, if he was in control. Even if he wasn't. "The bomb sex is too much to give up," he added with a grin as she led them to the next part of their adventure.

He had long since understood what this honeymoon was going to be about; but then, Chel had always found happiness more in giving than getting. Jack didn't say anything at first, taking in the sights with a low whistle and a smile. Creepy overgrown castle, sundown, even had a moat...He half expected the bats to start coming it in a screeching hoard any moment now, and he would have honestly applauded her all the more for it.

Motioning for her to wait, he took a few photos--some of the scenery, some of her.

"So now the dragon's really going to drag me to her lair, huh?" he joked as they started to walk through the grass-filled bridge. "Ingenious: seducing me just to capture me in the end."

(Funny how he still needed the reminder.)

The longer they took to climb the corroded steps, the more entranced Jack grew. Owain was tickled by the castle as predicted, too, and he murmured his own thoughts aloud until hunter and weapon were in an ebb and flow dialogue, an exchange of what ifs and intensely vague memories and observations of what history had happened within these barren walls. Jack touched some of the architecture for the giant's pleasure, for though he favored nature, the continuous new stimuli excited him, even if it had to be vicarious.

By the time they reached the right room, Jack had almost forgotten they weren't taking a self-guided tour. When he registered what she had laid out on the floor, he glanced at her, then the pile of blankets and pillows, then her again, and then the runic equipment. "Really?" he asked, not sarcastically but again like that seven years younger self, ready to explore. "Holy s**t."

He meant to say more, but the a** slap interrupted him. In retaliation, he swooped in to pick her up, spinning her slightly as he grinned. "You're amazing," he told her.

A small laugh escaped him when he recognized who was on the DVD cover. Finally indeed, and fitting. But it was a little frightening how much affection swelled within him as Chel went on--she'd spared no expense, and he was left incapable of finding the right words to fit the emotion.

"Yeah," he said instead, venting it the usual routes instead of something softer. "Yeah, that sounds great. But if we find any bleeding ghosts or tears in the fabric of reality on vacation, I'm blaming you." It was a pale tease; he wanted nothing more than to sit down and then squeeze her until there was nothing left between them, but Jack only acted on the former and made himself comfortable, nesting in what would serve as their bed for the night.