Work Text:
Good sex makes Carter's IQ points drain out through her ears. Jack finds this both gratifying, and funny as hell.
There are no six-syllable words, no unified theories, just drunken eyes and deep streams of vowels. He can mold her like slippery-wet clay. He wonders whether she was like this with Shanahan, but he's never had the guts to ask. Until about two seconds ago.
She reassembles her brain, gives him a look he can't translate. Jack is lying on the wet spot.
Finally she says, "It's hard for me to trust people sometimes."
He'll take that as a no.