Price rapped sharply on Jessica's front door. He waited a few silent moments, his eyes trained anywhere but the door until it opened. She was dressed in a loose white tee shirt and black leggings, her hair hanging around her shoulders casually. Her hazel eyes almost looked like a fawn's, round and unassuming. 

Heart pounding, yet not a trace of fear or anger.

Hands.

Finger tips.

Warmth.

"Sir?" she asked, her calm and casual demeanor turning rigid and professional within moments. 

He blinked and he straightened his back a little, shoulders pushing back and chest broadening. "Saw your lights on; you're still awake?"

"No, I'm dead asleep." Jess looked away with a chuckle when he narrowed his eyes at her. "Can't sleep, sir."

"Me neither." he said. "Mind if I talk with you for a while so I can wind down?"

She opened the door. "Come on in; I could use the company." As she walked back into the house, she looked over her shoulder at him. "Want anything to drink?"

He closed the door behind him and followed her. "Sure. What do you have?"

She opened a cupboard in the kitchen. "Lots, actually: red wine, white wine, schnapps, bourbon, whiskey, spiced rum..." Her head swiveled at his sudden appearance close behind her and she side stepped to let him see the selection. "Take your pick."

Price thought for a moment and then took down a bottle. "This bourbon looks pretty good."

She nodded. "Sounds good; I'll get you a glass." 

He studied the bottle for a moment. "Didn't expect you to have something like this in your cupboard; not a typical woman's drink." 

"Well, I'm not a typical woman, sir." she said, smiling as she set down a glass for each of them. 

He popped out the cork and began to pour. "That's true," he chuckled. Price filled her glass, and watched her fingers gingerly pick it up.

Fingertips.

Hands.

Mouths slightly agape.

The Captain took a sip and heaved in a quiet breath. "You nervous about tomorrow?"

"Nah," she said. "I'm not worried about it. Are you?"

He took another sip, and his steely eyes glanced across the room. "No, not at all."

She set her brows skeptically, looking at him through her glass. "Suspicious avoidance of eye contact, mate." she purred.

He scoffed. "I'm not worried about it."

"Whatever you say," she said, taking another sip. 

Suddenly, his head popped up, as if something had occurred to him. "Oh! Soap tells me you hurt yourself during training today; are you alright?"

Her expression looked stiff and irritated. "... That son of a bitch..." she muttered. "It's nothing really, I'm okay." When she noticed that he wasn't about to leave it alone, she rolled her eyes and took another sip of bourbon. "Rolled my shoulder out of joint; like I said, I'm fine and I usually recover pretty quickly, it just hurt."

Price tilted his head. "You've done it before?"

"Many times, actually. Damaged it in a fight long before I was working with SHIELD, and didn't start having problems with it until they recruited me. Had to go through a lot of rehab before I got it to become strong again, but I've been neglecting my exercises..."

"Won't cause you any trouble tomorrow, will it?"

"No, why?"

He shrugged. "I'd probably have to leave you home if that was the case; wouldn't want you hurting yourself on the field."

"Price," she groaned. "It's an observation mission; even if I did hurt myself out there, it's not like I'd jeopardize the mission."

"No," he replied calmly. "But I don't like it when you get hurt."

She shrugged, swallowing another mouthful of her drink. "My shoulder wouldn't put any stress on the team, I assure you; I can get by with a little pain in my arm for a minute."

His eyes were solidly on hers and he squared to her. "I don't like it when you get hurt." he said, stressing his words this time.

She understood, then, what he meant. "... Oh." Her gaze fell into her nearly empty glass. "Still, I doubt anything is going to happen tomorrow." she said.

"Even still, I want to be positive I'm not sending you into a dangerous situation."

"You usually are, but I'm not going to get hurt this time, I swear." she said with a smile.

He close his eyes with the quietest of sighs, trying to form a grin of his own. "Alright." he said.

Jessica broke a few moments of silence. "Promise me that if I did get hurt in the future, you wouldn't risk the safety of the team for me? You'll carry on?"

Price wasn't comfortable with her tone. "... Where is this coming from?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Nowhere, really, it's just something I've been thinking about since I got hurt that one mission..."

"I told you, I don't leave people behind."

"Yeah," she said. "But we very nearly didn't make it out of there, and I know, had the team been any smaller or more vulnerable, we could have made Azerbaijan our grave."

He shook his head. "Remember that Mac was down, too, and I still fought to keep him alive."

"Even still," she continued. "If I got seriously hurt and it was between saving me and making an escape, don't waste a moment on me."

A thought occurred to him. He had no idea how many lives she had. Could she really die..? The thought caused a brief spike in his heartbeat before he threw the idea out, not wanting to linger on it for too long. 

He nodded at last. "Alright, but promise me you won't get seriously hurt." he said, raising his glass to his mouth.

"I won't make a promise I can't keep, sir."

Blood.

Bullet casings.

Breathless whispers.

He set his jaw and set down his glass. "Alright then..." 

She swept her hair behind her ear and scoffed. "This topic got really dark. Let's talk about something lighter, shall we? We wanted to wind down before bed, not up."

Price smiled forcefully. "Yeah, you're right, I'm certain we can be more domesticated, eh?"

She filled her glass with water and took a sip. Through the window, moonlight struck her form just right so that she was outlined in a silver halo.

Pale skin.

Smooth shapes cloaked in satin moonbeams.

Sweet taste.

Price looked away from her toward the living room across the entry way. "Looks like you've got yourself a collection of books in there," he said after a moment. "What all do you read?"

She noticed the quick movement of his head, and wondered for a tick what was on his mind, but at the mention of books, she dismissed the curiosity and grinned. "Oh, anything and everything. You're welcome to take a look."

He stood and wandered over. "Looks like a lot of history; I take it you have a thirst for knowledge." he said, glancing at her as she stood beside him.

"Yeah; mostly the World Wars and the Roman Empire, but I enjoy everything about history. After all, those who don't learn history are doomed to repeat it."

She hadn't turned her head yet, but she noticed a familiar look on his face out of the corner of her eye. He'd looked at her like that after the night at the cemetery... And in the armoury the other day. Jess tried not to concern herself with it, but soon it became too hard to ignore. 

She looked at him, and the softened expression on his face was still there. 

"You sound like you've had some wise counsel." he said.

"I only seek the wisest counsel, sir."