A/N: I don't know Beck's wife's name, so I made one up. I'm not sure if it was ever mentioned in the series. This is just a long drabble I couldn't get out of my head, after watching season 2 of Jericho.

Disclaimer: Jericho doesn't belong to me, and I make no profit from this.


The shades to his office are closed - the Sheriff's office really, but she supposes it's his now anyways, as Jake has certainly never been able to claim it. But she doesn't want to think of that now, doesn't want to think of Jake while the doors are shut and the shades are closed, and she's sprawled out across the top of the hardwood desk with her skirt bunched around her hips and Beck panting against her neck as he thrusts inside her.

He doesn't love her, and she doesn't love him, but they both need someone to touch, and lean on, and even if it's not love they do like each other, respect each other. But it's not love. He has a wife, and a child, and even if he doesn't know for sure that they're still alive he has hope.

And her? She loves Jake. She does. But she's given up on him ever loving her back and it feels good - so good - to have someone respect her, want her; even, in a way, need her.

Her legs are secure around his waist and she can feel the flutter of his breath against her skin, the small butterfly-soft press of his lips, the way his hands hold her close and touch her reverently, caressing and soft and perfect. She bites her lip and throws her head back as orgasm hits and tries her best to be quiet - the room is secure, but not soundproof - digging her fingers deep into Beck's shoulders and feeling when he finally comes too, a whispered moan against her skin that she's not supposed to hear - "Anna…"

She feels her heart clench and tells herself that she doesn't love him - can't love him, because she loves Jake (hopeless as that is) and he loves his Anna, so this doesn't hurt at all - and ignores how much she knows it's a lie.