Anyone else feel like something was missing at the end of Ep 7 ("Parts Developed in an Unusual Manner")? I just couldn't shake it and out came this :) It didn't really end up where I expected, but best laid plans and all that... This is actually my first posted FF (I normally come up with novel length ideas that never get finished!). Reviews are really welcome and encouraged (and if you didn't like it, tell me why so I can fix it!).

I have no rights to Orphan Black or, you know, Rhianna songs. No infringement intended!

As Sarah leaned over to kiss Paul and Fee went out to sieze the night...

Not really sure how to feel about it.
Something in the way you move
Makes me feel like I can't live without you.
It takes me all the way.
I want you to stay.
Stay—Rihanna (Feat. Mikky Ekko)

Maybe it was because her mouth tasted like sweet bourbon. Or maybe it was because he was kissing her—the only person who had ever risked so much for his sorry ass hide. He was drowning, loosing focus, softly drunk on her scent and taste and feel. He murmured her name against her lips and drew her slowly to him. Sarah melted into him, letting herself be pulled gently onto his lap. When he thought about it later, because he sure as hell wasn't thinking now, he was stunned at how logical it all felt. How the simple thing of her skin on his skin made the entire world make sense. It shouldn't be possible, but then again, he was pretty sure he no longer had the full list of 'impossible' and 'possible'. So, now, now he was just feeling. The feeling of her shiver as he stroked up her side to curl his left hand in her hair. The feeling of her legs tightening around him as he lifted them up out of his chair. The feeling of her breath panting lightly as he pulled away briefly, just long enough to make sure he had at least the vaguest notion of location and bed.

He kneeled onto the mattress, holding her close, and then gently released her. He followed her, softly feathering kisses on her face, nibbles on her lips. He paused, his forehead on hers, their breaths mingling."Can I take off your boots?", he asked quietly.

Sarah knew that wasn't really what he was asking. What he was really asking was, can I , Paul, make love to you, Sarah, for the first time? Because all those other times I wasn't me and you weren't you and right now it's pretty damn important to me that we're both in this together.

"Yes," she said, looking straight in his eyes solemnly. And then she gave him a small smile, "Yes."

Something inside his chest loosened. Just for a second he closed his eyes in thanksgiving.

They shouldn't be free. Hell, they probably shouldn't even be alive. And he should probably be worried about what the hell they were going to do next. But he just felt in awe of every breath he was sharing with Sarah, every move. She had come to save him. She had come to save him. He smiled back at her and tangled both his hands in her hair, pulling her towards him for a kiss that never seemed to end.

It was so slow between them that night. Sarah did her best to memorize the groves in his chest with her hands and her lips and her tongue. She tried, slowly and methodically to find every scar, every dimple every, freckle in his skin. His touch made her liquid. And as she felt his muscles flex under her hands, she blazed like molten fire.

It didn't seem possible that it could burn so hot when every touch was so torturously slow, when every movement seemed to take forever. But every move from both of them was the expression of all that they couldn't say. All the fear, the relief, the gratitude, and most importantly the love. And Sarah now knew, this is what it felt like to give herself completely to the man she trusted. To the man she loved. Instead of terrified, she had never felt so secure. His scent was safety, his arms were comfort, his taste was home. She tried to show him with every kiss, every touch, but she get getting distracted by the intensity in his eyes, the sharp bite of his teeth, the soothing of his tongue. He drove her slowly and surely to madness. And as she begged for him, pleaded for him, he struggled to outlast her. When she crossed over into that white heat explosion, he followed right behind, blinded by the intensity of it.

They fell asleep, tangled in each other, slick with sweat, desire and release. They were dead to the world until the bright light of morning burned through Fee's apartment. And Sarah discovered something that would continue to be true for all the times that she would awake in Paul's arms, even years later. His very presence lightened her morning heart and imbued her with a ridiculous kernel of optimism that she just couldn't shake.

It took her over a decade for her to admit that particular fact to Fee. And then only under the stunning duress of a new baby who made her bubble over with joy and reel with exhaustion.

She had thought he had forgotten about it. Which, of course he hadn't. He had just stored it up to be unleashed upon her when she and Paul and Kira had started to get marginally more sleep. And then Fee did his best to tease her mercilessly about it. But Sarah didn't really mind, though she protested loudly. She didn't, for even a second, wish her life to be any different.