The next morning, I decided to make the whole gang French Toast. I had the help of Pitch, who stayed with me while I sang to myself and cooked.
“You seem awfully happy.” she pointed out, I grinned at her.
“I had a fun night.” I sighed happily, her eyes grew wide, she smirked.
“No way! Tell me the kinky details!”
I laughed. “Maybe later.”
“How are things between you now?” she questioned. I shrugged.
“We just fell asleep right after.”
“Did you get out of his room before Harley got home?”
“Of course.” I put some finished slices of French Toast on plates, taking them out to some of the henchmen. The more experienced henchmen ate first, the newbies ate last.
I walked back into the kitchen and started cooking again. Pitch was grinning with her new knowledge.
“How was it?” she asked curiously.
“Great.” I grinned.
“How big was he?”
I dropped my spatula, I gave her a look. “Can you not?” I half joked, she dropped the issue but held a sly smirk on her face.
I got a new spatula, and continued cooking. Jack walked in, him and I exchanged a small smile, Jack took a plate and waited patiently for the French Toast to be done.
Pitch could barely contain herself, sitting on the counter now with her hands over her mouth and a large grin on her face.
Jack looked at her weird, then shrugged, chuckling to himself. I served him a good portion, he gave me a look that made my heart flutter, and then walked away.
As soon as he was out of sight, Pitch burst out into laughter and I slightly smacked her arm. “Shut up, do you wanna make it obvious?” I giggled, finished the rest of the French Toast, and then went into Jack’s office. I locked the door and lay on his desk. He stopped his paperwork.
“Continue.” I joked, he shook his head with a grin on his face.
“How can I continue when I have a ravishing woman on my work?” he leaned forward and kissed me passionately, biting my bottom lip and holding me tight.
I broke away and snickered at his pouty face.
“Work.” I commanded softly, gently, handing him the pen he dropped and sat on his lap. I moved so he was able to do his work, I snuggled into him.
“I need a fake name.” I sighed.
“You do.”
“I meant like, something you can call me by that people think is my actual name.” I explained. He shrugged.
“Hell, do whatever you want.” he was writing down a plan. I sighed, nuzzling my head into the crook of his neck. His hand slipped around my waist so it was easier for me to sit on him.
“My fake name could be Becky.”
“No.” he shook his head.
“Why not?” I sighed.
“It has to be completely off from your actual name,” he explained. “Like Harmony, Rose, Taylor, Janice. . . .”
Those were completely random names. I chuckled softly. “Harmony? How ironic.”
He smirked. “That’s the point.”
“I’ll go by. . . . .” I thought while running my fingers gently through his hair.
He patiently waited, doing his work, crossing things out and writing new ideas.
“Sally.”
He stopped writing, thinking, then looked at me with a slight roll of the eyes. “Nightmare Before Christmas reference?”
I laughed. “Yes. I like it.”
“It’s corny. But funny,” he said, a grin on his face as he turned his full attention on me. “Sally.”
I laughed, stroking his cheek and kissing him. “Jack.”
He sarcastically snorted, causing both of us to laugh.
“Have you ever tried comedy?” I joked, he nodded.
“I was a comedian once.” he said, then laughed. “I was fucking terrible, I told too many sick jokes.”
“Well, they’re funny to me.” I said, he grinned.
“Good.”