Dinner had been delicious, charming, romantic…

Jack did his best not to glare at the dishes he had offered to clean. Every time he told himself he wasn't going to get deeper in the relationship, become more attached to Kieran, he turned right around and let the opposite happen.

He rinsed off the plate he was working on. The night had turned domestic, and he found himself yearning for something he couldn't have. He might've lucked out with the ace thing, but no one wanted to be with a nutjob in the long run. Especially not someone whose plates had gold running along the outer edge.

One hurdle down, and he was already too exhausted to do more than gaze wistfully at the finish line.

He had yet to give Kieran the gunmoney coin. It was probably just as well. Giving an old Irish coin to someone because they were Irish was a stupid idea. He may as well have grabbed a box of Lucky Charms.

"Would you like help?"

Jack gasped and lost his grip on the plate. He felt the plate shatter at his feet and could only hear his own ragged breathing.

A light pressure on his shoulders guided him back a few steps. "I should clean that up," he whispered.

"It's my fault. I've got it," Kieran said. He bent down to retrieve the broken pieces.

Jack shook his head and wrapped his arms tightly around his stomach. This was worse than the teddy bears. "I dropped it. I'm sorry! I-I zoned out, and I… I'm sorry."

"It happens," Kieran said reassuringly. "It's an incomplete set. If anything, you've evened out the plates to match the bowls."

Too understanding. Too accommodating.

"Oh, my sweet siren," Kieran said softly. He set the broken pieces on the counter and stood in front of Jack. He stroked Jack's cheek and pulled him into a hug.

"It's just a plate. The set broke during shipping, and I put in an insurance claim," he said as he threaded his fingers through Jack's hair. "I've already sold off the soup tureen and tea cups as replacement pieces. There's not as much call for the plates and bowls, so I kept them for myself."

Jack nodded as Kieran spoke. He felt marginally better, and he was grateful that Kieran's explanation gave a reason for the lack of annoyance.

Kieran pulled away and tucked a bit of Jack's hair behind his ear. "No harm done."

Jack breathed in shakily, his eyes glued to Kieran's chest. It wasn't as bad as he was making it out to be. It wasn't as bad as he wanted it to be. He lowered his eyes and picked at his cuticles, stripping away little bits of skin. He flinched when Kieran gently took his hands.

"I'm gonna…go sit down. Or something," he said.

Kieran gave Jack's hands a light squeeze before he went back to cleaning up the remnants of the plate.

Jack felt Keran's eyes follow him as slowly made his way to the couch. He self-consciously curled up in the corner and stared at his bag sitting on top of the coffee table. Now was as good a time as ever to give Kieran the coin.

He pulled his bag closer and rummaged around until he found the small box containing the coin. He grimaced at his shoddy wrapping done with a discarded newspaper.

The couch shifted beside him, and he turned to face Kieran. He held out the box. "I uh…kinda got you something. Sorta," he said as his eyes darted up to meet Kieran's gaze.

Kieran smiled brightly, his delight contagious. His movements were slow and careful as he unwrapped the gift. He froze before pulling the clear box that held the coin free from the paper. "This is…"

"It's just a cheap reproduction," Jack said quickly.

"I must argue that it's a rather good reproduction," Kieran said as he held up the coin and turned it. "1690… A wonderful year full of life and joy. Wherever did you find it?"

"Uh… Someplace?" Jack tugged at his sleeve and looked away.

"The Bradley Estate," Kieran said with a knowing smile. "I recall reading about a small coin collection up for auction."

"That Benoit lady made me take it when she caught me staring," Jack admitted mulishly. "It has a clover, and I know that's not all there is to Ireland."

"We also have potatoes and sheep," Kieran said teasingly.

"And bogs, I guess?" Jack watched as Kieran turned and examined the coin closely. Benoit was right, Kieran was beginning to get a particularly miserable look in his eye. "It's probably cursed. I've cursed you. I'm sorry."

"I'm already cursed, my sweet," Kieran said, his voice quiet and pained.

Wrong tactic. Jack forced a smile and scooted closer to Kieran. "With an awesome life? Yeah. Nice curse. Where do I sign up?"

Kieran shook his head and smiled. "My door is always open to you. Even when it's locked, apparently," he said, raising a brow at Jack.

"Sorry."

"Oh, I'm angry with neither you nor Lindsey," he said. "I'd rather she let you in when I'm not available. Certainly better than having you linger on the street."

"Especially with my damned curfew," Jack muttered, bitter over the reminder.

"Will you be staying the night, or would you like me to take you home?"

"Home. No. Wait." Jack stared at his lap. He was enjoying his time with Kieran, and wouldn't mind seeing what staying the night on purpose would be like. It had nothing to do with going through Sam's computer and finding a couple crime scene photos that decided to permanently burn themselves into his mind. "I'll just stay here tonight. Your couch is nice."

"I'd offer my bed, but I don't believe you trust me."

"Er… I don't not trust you, exactly. You've seen my mattress. Your couch is an upgrade."

"I'll get you a blanket. But I must warn you," Kieran said, leaning over to place a soft kiss on Jack's cheek, "it's a nice blanket."