A/N: I take a break from angst to bring you… Fluffy gutter. I think. Thanks to AstraPerAspera (as always!) for the awesome beta and to Nynaeve506 for letting me use the idea that birthed this steno.
Jack paused mid-motion. "Wait… Sam.. Is that…?"
She twisted beneath him, clutching his arm in a desperate attempt to get him moving again. "Eeee…. whaaa…" she managed to say before biting her lip on a low moan. He wasn't moving, but he was still right there.
"I think I hear…" This time she didn't try to hide the groan as her hips rocked against his. "Oh… God… Sam. Stop. I think…"
Finally, collecting the last strands of what remained of conscious thought, she managed to whisper into his ear: "I. Don't. Give a shit." She moved against him, emphasizing each syllable.
She pulled his mouth down to hers.
He forgot everything else.
2 year-old Matthew was sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, contentedly chewing a cookie he'd pulled from the half-empty bag of Chips A'hoy opened before him.
Sam and Jack paused in the doorway upon seeing him.
"How did he…" she began at the same time Jack said, "I thought we'd agreed to…"
"I did. The top shelf."
They looked around the kitchen. Not a chair out of place. She opened the cabinet she'd stored the cookies in. Everything was exactly where it should be.
Except the bag of cookies. Which most certainly wasn't on the top shelf where she'd left it.
She turned back to her son. "Matthew, how did you…?"
He looked up, chocolate smeared across his chin and half-way up one cheek, and smiled innocently at her.
She looked over his head to Jack, who was wearing a nearly identical expression as he looked back across at her. She felt the flush spread across her features as she remembered exactly why the noise had seemed so unimportant earlier. "Does this make me a bad mother?" she asked.
Jack laughed. "No… Just a very good wife."