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[attr="class","aurelie_body"]Hearing Jack call out to her from one section of her vegetable garden, Aurelie couldn't quite repress an inward shudder at the word "love", despite—or perhaps because of—the casual way he called her that. Was what they had really love? Were they that serious, that committed, that deeply devoted to each other?

She didn't know. She and Jack liked each other, for sure, and they were close, of course. But could it be love when there was still so much they didn't know about each other? Was it really love if neither of them even knew what it felt like to be in love?

But he might not mean it that seriously, Aurelie reminded herself. She'd met other Galarians who called people "love", whether they were romantic partners, friends, or casual acquaintances. And just because they were more exclusive now didn't mean she and Jack were destined soulmates.

The thought relaxed her, and she was able to smile back at Jack and answer his query cheerfully. "Yes, please start digging the potatoes up! They should be just perfect to harvest now. There's not many of them, but they should be fairly deep, about three or four feet."

Aurelie smiled with pardonable pride as she surveyed her backyard vegetable garden. Her efforts to till, fertilize, plant, water, and protect every seed and plant were paying off, for the modest garden was now yielding an impressive bounty of carrots, spinach, cauliflower, and aubergines, as well as the red fingerling potatoes Jack and Watts were digging up. The row of herbs, where she was kneeling now, was positively flourishing with a rich, aromatic bounty of chives, dill, mint, rosemary, and thyme.

Cutting some sprigs of dill, she stood up and let out a chuckle when she saw a bright-orange autumn leaf floating in the brisk breeze and landing atop Jack's hair. Aurelie ambled over and plucked it gently off his head, twirling its stem in her fingers.

"Thank you so much for helping me with this," she said gratefully to him, leaning forward and impulsively kissing him on the cheek. "I know it's not the most romantic way to spend an afternoon together, but it is important to me. I'll make it up to you, I promise.

"And don't push yourself too hard," Aurelie added, seeing the way he rolled and flexed his shoulder. She smiled softly, eyeing him with a mixture of admiring pleasure and quiet concern.

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Aurelie laughed and held up her hands—still trailing bits of dill and rosemary sprigs—with lighthearted defensiveness at Jack's good-natured complaint about the potatoes' depth. "Okay, okay, they might not be that far down. Maybe just one to two feet. I planted these back in the middle of summer, I can't remember!"

Despite her playful protest, her single eye shone and her lips curved into a gentle, appreciative smile at his assurance that any time they spent together was romantic. "Oh, Jack, you get a kiss for that one, you smooth talker," she sighed, before leaning forward and interrupting his spade-work.

Her lips parted under his, and their tongues touched with a delicate, flirtatious contact. A sensation of heat and hunger stirred deep inside Aurelie, and she slid her arms around him, heedless of the herbs in her hands. The sound of Watts enthusiastically and industriously digging for potatoes served as the only backdrop to their embrace as she kissed him harder, pressing her body warmly against his.

Finally, Aurelie broke away and laughed again with a hint of mischief. "I only hope you say such sweet things to Xiura too. I bet she'd like them even more than I do!"

Feeling warmer than ever despite the brisk autumn breeze, the redhead let out a long breath to gather her wits, before turning around and crouching down matter-of-factly. Beside the rows of potato shoots were more rows of cauliflower. Aurelie produced a utilitarian folding knife from her pocket and began cutting free the broad, pure-white cauliflower heads.

"And pfffft, like you could persuade me not to cook for you," she chuckled in belated response to Jack's decorous, typically Galarian request for dinner as repayment. "Especially with all these vegetables and herbs! I have a cauliflower au gratin recipe from my aunt in Shalour City that I love, and a stew with potatoes, pork shoulder, carrots, leeks, cabbage, and sausage that's so comforting when the weather grows cold..."

As she chattered on, Aurelie continued cutting free more cauliflower heads. She bit her lip as the snowy florets tumbled loose, reminding her somehow of the foam-capped wave that carried her and her poor Milotic to shore when she'd run into an angry Jack on the mysterious island in Route 105. It had been a side of Jack that she'd never seen before.

I never knew he hated Rocket so much, she reflected, absently dropping more cauliflower crowns into the basket by her feet. If he knew about me...and Xiura...and Zev, for that matter...what would he think? Her hands fell still as she remembered the way Jack's face had twisted in rage atop his Gyarados.

She cleared her throat uncomfortably and forced herself to speak up in as normal a tone as she could manage, not wanting the silence to stretch on too long. "How are those potatoes coming? Want to take a break and move on to the spinach?"

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Aurelie's lips curved in a wicked little smirk when she heard Jack's soft moan and saw the deep blush spreading across his face in response to her impulsive kiss of thanks. A pleasurable shiver ran through her at the brush of his lips, before they both returned to their respective vegetable patches. In the midst of cutting free another cauliflower, she bit her lip pensively and glanced briefly toward him.

I wonder if this is why we keep each other around, she mused. Despite the misunderstandings, the secrets, and the omissions—the things Aurelie knew she could never tell him, the things she suspected he wasn't telling her—their physical chemistry was unquestionable. It'd been that way since she first laid eyes on him.

A wiser woman would have broken up with him by now—would have broken up with him long ago. But Aurelie had never been wise. If she were the sort that didn't like a little risk, a little spice of danger and mystery, then she never would've joined Rocket in the first place.

All this flashed through her mind in an instant as Jack replied to her careless-sounding question about the spinach. She started a little at what sounded like a sad—or perhaps hopeful—momentary catch in his voice. Her smile faded as she looked up again, raising her eyebrows questioningly.

"Actually, what do you think about taking a break altogether?" Aurelie asked, straightening up and brushing the dirt off her hands. "You and Watts have done such a good job with the potatoes already! You deserve to rest a while and warm yourselves back up in the apartment."

Picking up her basket piled high with herbs, cauliflower, and potatoes, she added invitingly, "Besides, I've got hot cocoa waiting! And madeleines from the bakery around the corner. That's an offer you can't resist, right?"

Without waiting for his response, Aurelie came back toward Jack and linked her arm through his, gently guiding him away from the vegetable garden. "Besides," the redhead went on in a more solemn tone, "you look like you've got something on your mind.

"Is something bothering you, Jack?" she asked softly, her brow creasing with concern. She'd told him she'd stayed home like a normal, innocent civilian during the island conflict, so she was feigning ignorance about everything that could've happened to him there. "Are you doing okay?"

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Aurelie and Jack walked back to the apartment arm-in-arm, snuggling close a little bit as they headed through the door and up the stairs into her living room. She disengaged a little reluctantly when he headed off to the bedroom, while she heated up the cocoa and brought out the madeleines. When Jack set down two knives on the kitchen counter, though, Aurelie perked up in curiosity.

Her eye widened when he described the fight he'd had with a mysterious Rocket member on the island in Route 105. At first, Aurelie irrationally feared he'd bring up their fight. But she reminded herself that Jack wouldn't be here like this if he knew.

He would've shown up at my door with cops in tow, not a shovel, she thought. Besides, their fight hadn't involved knives. And apparently, this one definitely had.

I wonder who it was, she thought speculatively, wondering if it was even someone she knew. It was hardly as if Aurelie were acquainted with even a quarter of all Rocket members in Hoenn, after all. For now, though, she had a different role to play—not investigator, but concerned lover.

"Oh, Jack, I had no idea that you'd gotten stabbed!" she exclaimed with genuine distress and sympathy. "I'm so sorry that happened to you. I could tell your shoulder was hurt, but I didn't realize it was so serious..."

She pouted at him and shook her head with mock reproof. "Jack, you should've told me, so I could draw a nice hot bath for you or something, instead of putting you to work digging up potatoes!"

Aurelie started toward the bathroom door as if to do just that but paused when he asked her about the knives. She sat back down and bent to study the knives more closely. As he'd indicated, one was a small, well-balanced throwing knife whose edge and tip had taken some chips and rolls—nothing that couldn't be fixed by a few turns on the belt grinder.

The longer blade, though, had been snapped off at the tang, where there must have been a stress riser or some fault in the quenching and tempering process that led to the breakage. Aurelie pursed her lips thoughtfully, pondering the solution. Then the red-haired smith shook her head rapidly, as if to clear it, and looked back up at Jack inquisitively.

"Of course, I'd be happy to help you as much as I can," she began. She didn't feel as if she could say anything else, under the circumstances. "But I want to ask..."

The words came easily to her now, after a year-and-a-half of explaining similar things to civilians coming into her shop asking for swords and daggers. "I know you said you want to keep the knives as a reminder to yourself. But...are you planning to fight with them? Are you planning to use them as weapons?

"Because..." The red-haired smith crossed her arms and sighed. "I have a firm policy against making blades that are only used as weapons." At least, for civilians or League officers. Especially League officers, who'd probably be using them against Rocket.

"In Kalos, my father and I both got in trouble several times for crafting a sword or combat knife for someone, who then used it to fight or attack someone else," she elaborated. "The police would question us, there would be threats of lawsuits, and...well, it was always a mess.

"After the time some angry teenager used the katana I'd originally created for their uncle as a murder weapon, I thought, 'Never again.'" Aurelie shook her head ruefully. "I know I can't help how people might choose to use my knives, but their intended use is always as a tool, not a weapon." She shrugged and spread her hands wide.

"And I've held firm to that, even though I've received lucrative offers otherwise. So, tell me first, Jack: If I repaired these knives, would you be using them to fight people? To hurt or kill someone?"

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[attr="class","aurelie_body"]Even with Jack's attentiveness, his sympathy for her stance on creating weapons, and his assurances, Aurelie still hesitated about repairing the knives. I don't trust Jack not to use them against Rocket, she thought, remembering the frothing rage and hatred with which he'd battled her on the island in Route 105. If he really only wanted them as reminders, he wouldn't need them repaired.

I feel like I'd be arming the League against us. And yet...

Aurelie could hardly voice her suspicions aloud, though, after he'd promised her he only wanted to keep them as a memento. Nor could she fashion the blades somehow so that they wouldn't function against Rocket members. That only happened in fantasy games and novels, for all that she ardently wished she could make knives like that.

But maybe I can blunt the edges and tips a little, she thought, glancing back toward the knives. Or make them more brittle with a little heat treatment. That way, they'd still be fine mementos, but if he ever did use them as weapons, they wouldn't cut or hold together very well.

It would have to be subtle, but hopefully, Jack wouldn't suspect her of having tampered with the knives' workmanship. He'd only asked her to repair the chips and add a new handle, after all. And Aurelie would feel less like she'd given a League member a pair of weapons to use against her fellow Rockets.

"Sure, I'll do it," she answered, meeting his gaze steadily and nodding. "Leave them with me. I'll do what I can to patch them up and bring them back to you when they're ready."

Aurelie reached out a hand to stroke his cheek gently. "I do hate the idea of you getting into fights, though. Especially against Team Rocket. I hope something like this never happens to you again."

Then the redhead shook her head as if to clear it and picked up the knives efficiently. With a quiet clatter, she stowed them away into her work bag along with her other tools and projects. Turning back toward Jack, she nodded toward the door to her bathroom and tugged on his arm, flashing him a disarming smile.

"But that's in the past now, so let's focus on the present," Aurelie said briskly. "Which, for you, monsieur, consists of that hot bath I promised you. You deserve a long, luxurious soak, after all that digging out in the cold breeze."

Leading him into the bathroom, Aurelie began to run the hot water into her bathtub. Her apartment had the standard combined shower-bath, with a tub that was probably just a touch too short for Jack's long legs. She tested the water with a fingertip and then added in a little of her favorite bath oil, rendering the steaming-hot water silky-smooth and fragrant with the scents of lemon, mandarin orange, jasmine, and vanilla.

"There you go," she murmured, with a satisfied smile. She gave a single longing glance at the hot water but shook her head. "I should probably get back to the kitchen and start putting away all the vegetables we harvested today.

"Unless..." The smile she directed at Jack now was almost a smirk, wicked and mischievous. "You'd like some company?"

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[attr="class","aurelie_body"]Aurelie wrapped her arms around Jack's neck and leaned eagerly into the kiss, the buttons of her shirt pressing into the toned, taut muscles of his bare chest. As his hands slid down her back, she arched forward to grind her hips against his. The heat of the moment dissipated the uncomfortable chill she'd felt while trying to navigate the conversation about knives.

Eventually, though, they had to pull apart just for some air. Her lips still tingling from the contact with his, Aurelie let out a breathless laugh. "I was hoping you'd say yes," she whispered, her body afire with a fierce, familiar wave of lust.

Withdrawing reluctantly from him, she quickly shed her own clothing, unable to keep from eyeing Jack all the while. A few bruises and healing cuts marred his tanned skin, as well as a new scar or two that she didn't recognize. She averted her gaze from them hastily and climbed into the bathtub, sinking neck-deep into the steaming-hot, sweetly scented water.

"Come here," she said invitingly, gesturing to the water. As Jack joined her in the tub, she smiled in satisfaction. "Mmm. Yes, there."

As he lay back, Aurelie maneuvered herself above his body, her knees on either side of his hips. A low moan escaped her as she slowly, pleasurably sheathed him inside her, inch by inch, up to the hilt. Water splashed around them as she raised her head to kiss him again, intensely and hungrily.

For a few moments, they remained in that position, their brows pressed together and their heartbeats slowing to a gentler pace, savoring the piercing sweetness of the moment. Then Aurelie began to move against him and he within her, drawing more gasps and moans from both of them and splashing more water over the tub's sides. Harvesting vegetables was definitely no longer on either of their minds.

Afternoon had bled into early evening and the stars were beginning to emerge by the time she and Jack arose from the bathtub. Aurelie toweled herself off with a languorous, pleased smile, feeling at once cleaner and dirtier than when they'd both climbed in.

From a chilly beginning to the day, it had drawn to a—perhaps not surprising, but certainly impulsive—heated ending. She didn't regret it in the least, though, and she hoped Jack didn't either.

[attr="class","cred"]VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT