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"You're still here?" Jack asked, tapping the door on his way in and closing it behind him.
Harding looked up with a smile before he'd processed the question. Hell. "Was I supposed to meet you somewhere?"
"No, no, you're fine. I ran into Frannie, heard you were having a long day. But I thought I'd miss you."
He'd come by anyway. That was... nice. He looked down at the files on his desk and rubbed his hand through his hair. "Drake and Mallard are due for performance reviews, so of course I spent the day swamped with paperwork."
An unconvincing cough grabbed his attention. Jack was trying to keep a straight face. He glared. "Don't start. You're hanging around Tom too much."
Jack gave up trying and grinned. "Still no Scrooge or McQuack?"
"Shoo, go. Work to do."
Jack came over and sat on the edge of his desk instead. Harding couldn't keep the fake scowl on his face as Jack leaned in to fiddle with his tie, smoothing it down over his chest. "Jack?"
"Shh," he said. His hand slid back up the tie and gripped it. "Bullpen's empty." He pulled Harding forward into a kiss.
Kissing Jack was still new, fresh, hopeful in that way he knew could never stand up to reality. New things wore out, fresh turned old and stale, and hopeful -- well, hopeful lead to heartache. He knew that, even if Jack somehow didn't. He'd seen it in years worth of rookies turned hardened and love affairs failed. But he guessed hope had snuck up on him after all, because he wanted in this one thing, with this one person to be wrong.
He would almost like to blame the Mountie for it, sweeping in with that reckless idealism and out with his best detective. Twice. Except the good constable was up in Canada now, so this was his own damn fault.
Jack's lips met his, and his knuckles brushed Harding's chest, and the distance between them was too great. He stood and pulled Jack up with him. Closer was better.
Long moments later, he eased back. Jack's breathing was a bit rough, and his eyes were slow to open. When they finally did, Harding asked, "Is it still empty out there?"
Jack blinked for a moment, then looked past his shoulder. "Yeah."
"Good. Keep an eye out," he said and eased himself down to his knees.
He hadn't tried this since the Sixties, but he figured it couldn't have changed that much.