/4/

At nighttime and cocooned in warmth and comfort beneath covers, her thoughts had a tendency to wander. Sometimes they flitted from one thing to the next without any consistency or weight, and at other times, they stayed on one particular topic. This night saw her thoughts deep into the streams of timelines; causality at its basic level and nostalgia in newfound love. There was a rhythm to life and to choices; one choice taken changed life's course and life's course forced other choices to be taken. And sometimes, in moments like the one she was in – full of bliss and a feeling of infinity – she felt her existence floated above ground; no choices to be considered, no bumps in life's course. She felt weightless.

Not only was she rediscovering love, she was also, rather surprisingly, rediscovering sex. It was not unlike walking in Spring with flora and fauna blooming; all things new and exciting. It was like a sprout blossoming, opening its petals and becoming something larger and more beautiful. It felt awkward and absurd trying to articulate it, she thought. But to have someone to share her life with, both the good and the bad, was new.

She had never thought much about her sex life in recent years, other than the distinct lacking regularity of it. It was years since she had last let Jack into her bed and those times were, in remembrance, nothing to highlight. Early in their relationship, there had been spontaneity and a generous factor of satisfaction. She had been in love, and helplessly so. After the separation had gone through, she had only had a few one night stands – usually when her nights had been too lonely after her children had moved away from home. In retrospection, with what she now knew, those few encounters had also lacked something.

So it felt absurd when out of nowhere – or at least it felt like it – Andy Flynn sauntered into her life and somehow opened her eyes to the fact that really she had not been enjoying sex to the fullest. She was not unaccustomed to pleasing and knowing herself. She knew how to make herself orgasm in well under a minute or to make it last longer; making it simmer till she felt on the brink of combustion, if that was what she wanted. She had done fine on her own. But all things told, there was something entirely different about having someone to make love with, and having that someone be more focused on her needs rather than his own.

It added to her weightlessness when he time and time again confessed his love, both verbally and nonverbally, to the point where it seeped beneath her skin and she found herself submerged in the fact that yes, he loved her, and yes, he was still there.

She did love him too, and even if she had yet to put that feeling into words, she knew he felt it, or at least she was almost certain he did. Andy Flynn was, in all regards, patient when it came to their relationship, as surprising as that was given his history of quick reactions. She treasured his capacity for acceptance and patience beyond words. Jack had never been very patient with love. It was, ultimately, she thought, why he left when he met the slightest form of resistance.

"What are you thinking about?" Andy's voice came from behind her, his hand skimming down the length of her spine, the touch familiar now. She felt the bed dip as he moved, scooting closer behind her. His body felt warm against her nude back. He settled his mouth against a tender spot on her neck and planted a soft kiss. "Huh? I can hear you thinking, wheels turning and everything."

She smiled, "nothing."

She let out a small happy sigh and scooted backwards, feeling a small thrill of excitement blossoming in her stomach at the feel of his naked skin against hers. His hand settled briefly on the curve of her hip before it snuck further down, eventually caressing small circles on the top of her thigh.

"Nothing's got you smiling silly?" he teased, his voice had a laugh in it. He leaned in across her, his lips on her cheek as he deposited another sweet kiss. His breath was warm on her skin.

"I was just thinking," she stalled, not sure what to tell him.

"Dangerous business," his voice tingled on her cheek, "thinking in the middle of the night."

She smiled and turned onto her back, catching his eyes when she looked up at him. He rested his head in his hand with the elbow out on the mattress next to her. There was a definite non-assuming smile to his mouth.

"I thought you liked danger," she teased, her hand going to his cheek, holding her thumb to his skin. She treasured every inch of him deep into her soul and sometimes even beyond.

"Nah, not anymore," he shook his head and then chuckled, "I'm starting to see the allure of protocols, rules and all that."

She laughed, "right..."

Changing beliefs was, at its core, a hard accomplishment, and she was sure, he would always skirt the line between following the rules and breaking them. As he said, life was a lot of grey areas, and not only when it came to their profession.

He leaned close again, his mouth softly on hers.

It was the flimsiest of kisses they had ever shared. It reminded her of their first kiss; so uncertain and yet so heartfelt at the same time. In a lot of ways, ambiguity had been a heavy stone in their relationship. It was, in many ways, a wonder they had even treaded down this path. She could laugh about it now; their differences and arguments. Ten years ago, she would have never believed she would end up next to him like this.

Change was another treasure. Time moved onwards and life changed. Sometimes the changes were small and invisible, and other times they were drastic and very tangible. He was most certainly a tangible change in her life.

His breath was warm and humid on her skin as he kissed the corner of her mouth, his eyes warm and alight when she opened her eyes. One look from him and she was aflame from the core to the tips of her fingers. It was warm weightlessness that transformed into a burning sun of desire.

She held her breath when his hand unhurried changed direction, his caress traveling around her thigh and inwards, dancing in a rhythm that was meant to fire everything up. He trailed small slow circles that drew nearer and nearer the apex of her thighs. He had never seemed particularly shy about sex; not once they had actually stepped across the line.

She smiled up at him.

They had been holed up in bed since early evening and her body was tingling from a whole night of making love. And yet, here she lay, ready for more. Desire rose in her, needy almost, whenever he touched her. He only had to ghost his hand across her skin, and she felt it instantly, lighting up like a bonfire in the dark night.

"It was just, – I was just thinking of how lucky I am," she told him finally, her voice changing as one of his finger skimmed through her trim of curls, intentionally staying clear of her clitoris.

"Definitely makes two of us then," he replied, his smile looking overjoyed and playful. He leaned closer again, and this time he enveloped her mouth into a long passionate kiss.

She closed her eyes and let the whole warmth of him embrace her; his fingers were playfully making their way down again, closing in on the point of absolute pleasure. She held her legs open for him, excitement running through her in waves. The kiss drew a short pause and continued after they both drew a breath. He had a way of kissing her that bounced through her like electricity. He slowly and surely affirmed his affection for her in that simply touch of two sets of lips. Sometimes, she felt he breathed new life into her and made her believe in what she could not see. Before he came into her life, she had never considered she would be on this voyage again. Not at her age, and certainly not with all the baggage in her life.

With a simple kiss he reawakened so much in her. It was not unlike a heart starter, she thought with a small smile; every kiss jolted her into love, and every touch jolted her into desire. Love and desire went hand in hand now and she felt both so strongly, that it felt like they burned through her skin and she was left an aftermath of sensitive skin.

She leaned up into his kiss and her hands found their way to his neck and to the back of his head, his hair slipped between her fingers as she caressed his scalp and pulled him closer to her. She spread her legs even more and made an inviting room for him that he was quick to fill, his body heavy on top as he rolled in across her.

She could feel him half hard against her inner thigh. She smiled against his lips.

He drew back, his eyes intense as he simply stared at her.

She lifted her eyebrow in question.

"You do know, five minutes ago you told me to go to sleep," he chuckled.

She pressed her lips together; five minutes ago she had felt sated and ready for sleep.

"It's Friday," she smiled in reply.

"Technically it's Saturday," he corrected with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes.

"Just so we're clear; you don't want to sleep?" he teased her, tilting his head.

"No."

"Good, then we're on the same page," he chuckled again and then he leaned down, his mouth on the side of her neck as he kissed his way down.

She closed her eyes and arched her head back, exposing her throat.

He moved downwards, his hands caressing the outside of her thighs now as his mouth left a trail of kisses from the line of her collarbone to the right mound of her breast. He covered her right nipple with his soft lips and teased her with his sharp teeth.

She let her hands remain in his hair for a bit, the connection to him heated her.

She let go of his hair with a soft moan when his tongue swept out and touched her center and slid down her folds. The feeling of it was too much for her to be grounded to anything. She let go and closed her eyes; ready to be swept away into ecstatic weightlessness.

...