Title: Water Crying
Characters: Lucas Taylor, Skye Tate
Rating: T
Summary: When it rains, Lucas finds he's not alone in his bed.
Prompt: Thank You Bucket's Valentine Challenge: [19. The girl of my dreams is giving me nightmares]
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the show, only the idea of this story.
Author's Note: This little thing has been boiling over in my head for a couple of days and I finally got that last bit of inspiration to finish it last night. I'm having trouble capturing the feeling of Valentine's this year, so it's kind of reflecting. Either way, I'm partially satisfied with how it turned out. Mind you, any mistakes that you find are entirely mine as I did a quick proofread, but sometimes I'm blind ^^; This is dedicated to the Queens of Lucas/Skye fanfiction: Miss Junie, Vaarna, and ShellyStark. Thanks to them, I've been introduced to this awesome ship, so I am forever worshiping them =]
The constant patter of rain fell upon the jungles surrounding Terra Nova, wafting the scent of spring rain through the openings of the Sixer camp, settled high above in the trees. The cool breeze drifted easily around one particular tent, fluttering through haphazardly pinned equations on the walls, before easing across a tanned naked chest. The owner of said chest lay in the solitary bed in the room, ignorant of the possibility of being cold as the breeze only helped to ease the unvarying heat that the jungle was always wrapped in. However, their eyes were closed, sealed off to the world in slumber so they could not care about it even if they wanted to.
In the bed lay none other than Lucas Taylor, fast asleep with a dark grey blanket lying upon his stomach before another weight joined him on his side, causing his brow to furrow on his slumbering face. A delicate hand was placed on top of his stomach as a soft caress started up to his chest, slowly pulling him out of his sleep. Gentle kisses began from just below his ears along his jaw, a motion running along the same lines until he roused himself enough to open his eyes.
He found himself staring into ocean blue eyes while chocolate brown waves fell against his chest as the body on top of him adjusted to lay much higher on his chest so that their faces were level.
Lucas couldn't help but sigh softly in displeasure, a grumble leaving his lips.
"Bucket, I don't have time for any more of your games. Just…please…jump off a balcony or something and leave me alone. You've betrayed me enough for one lifetime," Lucas murmured, turning his head away from the vixen that lay atop of him.
As if his words fell on deaf ears, Skye placed a hand on the side of his jaw before he felt her lips press against his.
Lucas' eyes opened wide, instantly caught by Skye's gaze once again as she opened her mouth slightly to gently nip at his bottom lip. A groan rumbled in Lucas' chest before his hand shot up to grip her hair at the base of her neck, pulling her in so he could kiss her properly.
He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, causing Skye to sigh happily as she opened up to him. Lucas couldn't help but groan as he tasted her, her mouth just as sweet as her lips, as he poured all of his conflicting emotions into such a simple kiss. Her tongue tentatively touched his, only resulting in his passion for her to skyrocket. However, as that same feeling shot through his body, a bright spark of lightning shot past Lucas' eyes, making him close his eyes off to the beautiful vision on top of him. A feeling of pain caught his body, centering on the two bullet wounds on his chest, a strangled gasp falling from his lips before everything changed.
In an instant, the dream shattered all around him as his own body shot up in bed, gasping in pain. His eyes shot around his tent erratically, searching for any sign that his dream had been real. There was nothing in his tent. No Skye, no rain outside, nothing. The only thing he found similar to his dream, beside the setting, was the pain he felt in his chest, though he wasn't entirely sure it was all from his gunshot wounds.
If he let himself believe it to some extent, he knew he didn't just feel mad at the fact that the dream wasn't real, but also disappointed that none of it was real at all. He scoffed at his idiocy; there would be no reason for him to ever see his Bucket, even if she had voluntarily come to him. With that all-encompassing thought circling through his mind, he lay back down on his bed as he thought of the fiery brunette with ocean-colored eyes who shot him (twice), knowing that he wouldn't be going back to sleep any time soon as the sky opened up outside and began to rain.