Watchmen (c) Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons, I only entertain this absurdly fluffy idea.
The only character I own is Samantha Haley and a few extraneous characters that no one will remember in the end.
This is a follow-up to my Once Burned, Twice Shy story, so if you come looking for future heroes, you've come to the wrong place.
Looking for constructive reviews, please!
Author's Note: A one-shot that's taken on a life of its own. It's been a long time comin'. Something I've wanted to author since I finished OB,TS, so I'm finally making it happen. I know I'm a bit wordy when it comes down to the nitty gritty, but these are two broken people finally finding each other after seven hundred years and that's not even counting the distance Rorschach put between them. Please enjoy and try to keep your reviews tasteful.
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Doctor Manhattan looked down upon Earth. It had grown ever skyward in his long absence. He watched it turn as he spied New York City, once home to some of the greatest heroes it was once so privileged to have. Now, it hardly remembered them. The only hero it does remember is himself but the world remembers him as a villain, a distant watcher of man, something to be feared, something dangerous enough to end them all should they try for another World War. He subtly smiled at the world, "It seems strangely empty." For a moment he thought of the ramifications of his intended actions. "Old souls in a new time... They have all earned their second chance," he whispered into the void.
Doctor Manhattan plunged a hand into himself and pulled two weary souls from his body. Edward Blake and Sally Jupiter. They would need to couple if Laurie was even to have a life. He secretly hoped this incarnation of Eddie wouldn't be as much of an asshole and actually be able to have a decent relationship with Sally. He placed both into the time stream gently and knew that they would find each other.
He plucked two more souls from his body and examined them. One was Daniel Dreiberg, the other was Laurie Jupiter. They both had died old, happy, and deeply in love with each other. Occasionally Jon found himself missing Laurie, but he knew she was happier with Dan than she ever was with him. He smiled and gingerly placed the two souls into the time line.
He looked into New York for the one soul he hadn't pulled from time. Adrian Veidt, the man who brought about peace amongst the world's nations. His lineage was strong and the resemblance to the first Adrian was uncanny. Manhattan knew the legacy of what Veidt had done would not be forgotten after so many generations. He returned to the void and reached his hand inside himself one last time. Two old souls danced among his fingers.
One was Walter Kovacs, once known as the most brutal hero in New York City. Doctor Manhattan looked deep into the soul of this twisted man. "Things in your life need to change if you are to have true happiness," he whispered. With a thought, certain aspects of Walter's past changed or vanished entirely, though certain injustices needed to remain. Finally, he cast his eyes to the last soul of someone he had never met. When he had killed Rorschach all those centuries ago, the life of Walter Kovacs had passed through him. A life that had very nearly brought Doctor Manhattan to tears with its cruelty, but through all the pain, neglect, and blood there was one small gleam of hope, happiness, and; dare he say it, love.
He cocked his head to one side as he looked deep into the soul of Samantha Haley. "I know it will hurt, but if you are to come to love him," he paused, casting his eyes to Walter's soul. "Your life must remain the same." Doctor Manhattan lowered both souls into time. He pulled back and gazed upon the Earth once more. "There now, it does not look so empty anymore."
My eyes roll back and I can feel the hand of Death around my throat. I don't want to follow the skeleton into the nothing. Not just yet, I want to see him. As my mind and pulse come to a slow stop, I feel his name slip from my lips. "...W-r..." I can barely hear it. I'm so tired, so weak. I'm lifted suddenly and my eyes spy his face as I cough blood onto him. "My...wish came true," I say weakly. I cough blood again and barely hear the words fall from my mouth. I tell him I love him, that I always have. I know he can't say it back, I know he can never say it. I cup his shifting face with my bloodied hands and lift myself up to him. I press my lips to him and wish he would kiss me back. My breath is shaky as a small smile pulls at the corners of my mouth. Then I don't feel anything, I can't do anything, and I regret my final thought. Damn him...I'll never know if he loved me.
Samantha Haley bolts upright, her breath caught in her chest, sweat dripping down her face, her mismatched eyes wide. She can still see his face, the white in stark contrast to the shifting black shapes tainted with bloody hand and lip prints. She suddenly finds her breath again as she starts crying. Samantha places her head in her hands and lets the tears flow. After several moments her breath steadies and her tears slow.
"Oh-my god," she whispers exhaustedly. She lifts her head from her hands, wiping the tears from her face. "Oh shit." She pushes several loose hairs from her face.
"Ta-da!" a female voice says from the door. Samantha looks up from her desk, her face ashen and her eyes bloodshot from crying. "Oh my god," the woman jogs over to the desk and kneels next to it, looking up at her boss. "Samantha, are you okay?" she questions, pushing the ginger hair out of her friends face.
"I'm...fine. Really, Laurie, I'm fine. It was just a...," Samantha pauses, seeing parts of the dream in her mind again. "An incredibly vivid dream," she finishes, her voice breaking slightly as she wipes a few fresh tears from her eyes.
"About the masked man again?" Laurie inquires. Samantha nods, closing her eyes and wishing the sadness would dissipate. "What happened this time? He didn't...break your arm again did he?"
"He didn't break my arm, he dislocated my shoulder... He thought about breaking my arm," she adds when Laurie cocks an eyebrow. Samantha pauses a few moments, trying to figure out the best way to describe what she'd seen; no, what she had felt, but when no sufficient words come to mind she states, "I died," bluntly.
"What?" Laurie stands slowly, processing the information.
"I died, over Kit-Kats...fuckin' chocolate. All I wanted to do was see him, one last time. I even wished upon a star and it came true. And-I died in his arms. One last kiss placed upon his shifting face," Samantha whispers, three fingers pressing into her lips.
"Samantha, hun, that's not a dream, that's a nightmare. Like so many of the others about this man. Whatever you're doing before you go to sleep, stop." Laurie places a gentle hand on her employers shoulder.
Samantha tries smiling, but still can't shake the feeling of her dream. "Alright, I'll try. So, what's this 'Ta-da' you have to show me?"
"Masterful way to change the subject."
"It's a women's prerogative. Gotta move on with today, it does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live."
"Says the woman who thinks these dreams are really a past life experience."
"Shut up, Laurie. What are you wearing?" Samantha questions, suddenly taking in her models appearance.
"Oh, it's the Pirate Jenny outfit you commissioned. It, uh, just came in and I wanted to show it to you. But then I found you all sad and weepy. What do you think?" Laurie fans the skirt out as she gives a twirl. For a few minutes, Samantha forgets her dream and marvels at the outfit. It's exactly as she had envisioned it. She gets up from the desk and feels the fabric and makes sure all the pieces are in place.
"We'll need to tease the fuck outta your hair, but this is perfect. Aged just right, tattered marvelously. I couldn't have asked for anything better. I just hope the photoshoot this weekend goes as well," she smiles.
"Do you mind if I wear it out tonight?" Laurie suddenly asks.
"Why? What's tonight?"
"Halloween twenty-six seventy-five. You forgot about all the parties we're invited to tonight didn't you?"
"Oh Jesus, I can't believe I did," Samantha sighs, palming her face.
"Meess Haley?" a quiet voice calls from the door. Both women turn to see the receptionist standing in the doorway.
"Yes, Io?"
"Dere ees a Meester Veidt to see you. He ees waiting een de studio," she explains. Samantha's eyes widen a moment.
"Aw, fuck. I forgot I had a meeting with him today. Thank you, Io, tell him I'll be with him in a minute." Io nods and leaves the office.
"Veidt? As in Adrian Veidt the who-knows-how-manyth of Veidt Industries?" Laurie asks as Samantha walks back to the desk.
"Yeah, that's the one," Sam answers sheepishly.
"And why is Adrian Veidt here?" Laurie crosses her arms.
"Because he asking me to do something for him and honestly, I'm strongly considering it." She lifts a hand mirror from a drawer in her desk and checks her face. Her eyes are slightly bloodshot; but it's easily explainable as over-working, and her cheeks are flush, she'll come up with something if he asks about it.
"You know I don't like him," Laurie states matter-of-factly.
"Neither do I, but business is business and if he commissions me for something, I'm going to do it. Hopefully with you by my side," Samantha smiles.
"Alright, you guilt tripped me," Laurie huffs, dropping her hands to her sides. "Do you think he'll mind if I'm out there in this?" She lifts the corners of her pirate skirt in a mocking curtsey.
"Heh, I don't think he'll care. Come on." Samantha walks to Laurie and takes her arm, walking her out of the office. "There he is. How's my business face?" she asks as they enter the studio. Laurie stifles a snicker.
"You don't have a business face, babe. Daddy!" Laurie jogs forward to meet her father in the center of the studio.
"Hey there baby girl, how are you?" Eddie asks giving Laurie a big bear hug as Samantha steps beyond them to Adrian Veidt.
"Hello, Mister Veidt. Samantha Haley, how may I help you?" She holds out her hand for the mogul to shake.
"Pleased to meet you, Miss Haley, call me Adrian." He shakes her hand gingerly. "You do very nice work." He waves a hand at the photos and sketches that adorned the walls of the studio.
"Wow, I'm sorry to gawk at you but, you look and sound just the old news archives of the first Adrian Veidt. It's uncanny." Samantha takes in the multi-millionaire's appearance.
"I'm the first to admit that it frightens me occasionally how much I look like him. I've been told that his genes run quite well throughout my family. What's the matter with your eyes?" he questions, really looking the photographer in the face for the first time.
"Oh, nothing, Mister Veidt. I'm half blind."
"And still you take such extraordinary photos with no depth perception?" he marvels, taking a closer look at many of the photos.
"Yes, it amazes just about everyone; including the models, when they do find out. Some of my closest clients still have no idea and I've been working with them for years. But, what may I help you with?" Samantha inquires, eager to get down to business.
"So it's straight to it, is it?"
"If you please."
"I'd like you to take a large number of candid photographs of the city. I'm going to be publishing a book soon. A sort of retrospective feature, between now of course and nineteen seventy-five. A look at the changes all around us, we know the major ones, but a side by side comparison to seven hundred years ago would certainly be a phenomenal look at the state of the world. Not only that but of it's people, how much they've changed, but also how much they've stayed the same. Would you be interested?"
Samantha takes a moment to think about the offer. "I have the odd candid, but not enough for a book. I certainly can take more of the city. No models then?" she questions.
"No models, just the everyday citizens of New York. I don't just want the pretty side of the city either, I want its underbelly. The dark, the grit, the blood, I want all of it," Veidt explains.
"As long as I'm careful I don't see why I can't do this. You have a deal Mister Veidt." Samantha holds out her right hand to shake on the deal.
Adrian takes her hand and shakes it gently. "Will quarter of a million be enough to get this endeavor under way?"
Samantha gasps, her body rigid. "Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars!"
"Quarter of million, yes. Will it be enough so you have no out of pocket expenses?"
Samantha's mismatched eyes floating back and forth trying to calculate how much everything would cost. "It's too much," she states after several strained minutes of math.
"But I am asking you to go into the dark underbelly of New York City, in which case it might be perfect or not enough," he muses, a sly grin on his features.
"Alright, two hundred and fifty thousand, I'll settle on that. It's a pleasure doing business with you Mister Veidt." Samantha shakes the moguls hand once more.
"And with you Miss Haley, I'll ensure that the money is in your account tomorrow. Have a wonderful day, Miss Haley. Contact me when you think you have enough, then we'll pick and choose the most appropriate." He nods and makes to leave. "Edward," he calls to his bodyguard.
"I've gotta go baby. You coming to dinner tomorrow?" he asks giving her a big hug.
"Dinner, right, I tried to forget. I'll try not to get too hammered tonight so that I can make it to dinner tomorrow," Laurie smiles.
"Alright, see you then, Laurel. Later, Samantha." He waves to his daughters employer.
"Later, Mister Blake." Both men exit the studio and enter one of Veidt famous electric cars. Samantha squeaks when Laurie sudden grabs her arm.
"Quarter of a million dollars!" Laurie shrieks. All Samantha can do was nod. "Oh my god, no way. That's impressive."
"I know, I'm still shocked." They stand in a moment of silence, mulling over the amount. "I'm going to go out and start now." Samantha jogs back into the office for her antique camera. "I don't know if I'll be able to make any of the parties tonight, but if you do wear it out, don't let anyone vomit on it. I'll hurt you if ruin comes to it," she threatens, placing the camera around her neck.
"I won't wear it out then. I'm going for lunch myself." Laurie begins to walk back to her own office.
"Just go home, get ready for whatever party you're gonna hit first. Io, we're closing early today, go home." Samantha instructs the little Greek.
"Yes, Meess. Tomorrow, Meess?"
"No, no tomorrow. Be here for the weekend."
Io bows. "Yes. Good night, Meess Haley. Good night, Meess Jupeetar."
"Night, Io," Laurie calls from the back room, her hand waving out the door.
"Laurie, lock up when you leave. I'll see you this weekend." Samantha exits the studio before waiting for a response. She pauses a moment, trying to figure out which way to go before her feet go left. The artist walks for a good hour, always taking pictures. Her mind wandering as she continues to walk, her feet guiding themselves. After another half an hour, she stops taking photos and just enjoys being outside.
She stops walking and gasps, her eyes staring out before her. Slowly she turns her head up, towards the overhang. It reads Lowell's Market. Suddenly her breath becomes erratic as she takes several strained footsteps forward. The city around her vanishes a moment, replaced be her dream. In a flash of blue light, the busy city returns. In a sudden fury, Samantha begins running forward, turning the corner five blocks away from the market where she skids to halt.
She can see the front steps from here, the building in her dreams exists. Samantha begins jogging and quickly makes her way to the apartment building. She stops just shy of the alleyway, involuntarily turning to look back the way she had come. The only thought in her head is of her keys, she's left them in her purse three blocks away. Samantha turns back to the building and slowly trudges down the alleyway.
"Hey, are you even hearing me, Kovacs?" the man asks, irritation laced in his usually calm voice.
"Hear you just fine, Daniel. No need to shout." Walter turns to his partner. He doesn't get irritated often, but today seems like no other day.
"If you can hear me just fine, why are we almost twenty-five blocks away from the damn diner?" Dan questions, his arms crossed in heat.
"I just felt like walking," Walter explains. Daniel's demeanor and tone change.
"Does this have anything to do with that girl you dreamt about the other night?"
"Don't know...maybe some," Walter muses, taking in the sights of the city around him more now than he's done the entire walk.
"You have to give up these dreams, man. They're not real, they're just dreams." These dreams have been worrying Daniel ever since Walter first brought them up months ago. He's falling in love with someone that can't possibly exist and it's suddenly consuming his partners attention. "They're going to end up driving you nuts...if they haven't enough already," Dan adds under his breath.
"Have you had any?" Kovacs inquires, stopping so suddenly that Dan almost runs into him. He tries to mask his face, Daniel has been having his own dreams; many involved a twisted man with a shifting face and a young woman in yellow and black.
"No," he says flatly and most unconvincingly.
"Then you're more than welcome to go back." Walter points back the way they had come.
"Maybe I should. I'll get a taxi, you sure you'll be okay alone?" Dan asks, some worry in his voice again.
"Enjoy your lunch." Walter walks away from Dan in a hurry, who watches him curiously.
"Mysterious little man," he muses before hailing a taxi.
Walter walks briskly through the crowds of people, occasionally looking at his surroundings. In his entire life, he has never entered this part of the city, not even in his line of work. The last job he and Daniel had done was back in August, thankfully they had been just in time to find little Blair Roche alive. Despite being completely foreign to him, Walter knew the streets like the back of his hand. Never missing a turn, always peering down the alleyways looking for someone in trouble.
He pauses outside a little place called Lowell's Market. "Hurm." More sights from his dreams seem to be coming real around him. Maybe Daniel's right, maybe he is cracking. He quickens his pace, almost running to a sight so familiar to him; though he's never once set foot inside. The small, seven floor apartment building seems to loom before him, suddenly larger than any building around it.
Walter runs through the throngs of people making his way to the place of his dreams, occasionally slowing to see something only he can see; the blood on the sidewalk. As he reaches the alleyway, he peers down, his imagination obscuring the reality around him and replacing it with a dying body that said it loved him. His reality returns in a blink and he sees the woman with long ginger locks standing there, her shoulders pitched as she cries.
He walks slowly towards her, cocking his to one side, trying to see her face. "Miss, you are alright?"
"I'm fine, sorry, just...I think I lost a friend here," she whispers. Samantha raises a hand to wipe away the tears sliding down her face. "I'll be fi-ah," she gasps upon seeing his face, her eyes wide with shock. A strangled, strained, and deafening silence hangs between the two strangers as their eyes frantically search the others face in recognition. Then they both speak at once.
"...Mister-Kovacs?" Samantha asks, her voice uncertain of the man before her. She shouts out as pain envelopes her brain. An old life so similar to her own begins crashing back. She sways before falling to her knees as Kevin re-enters her life and she's saved by her neighbor. Then she is laying in this alley, bleeding to death and that same regretful thought crosses her mind and she hates herself. She holds her stomach as the pain intensifies until; in an instant, she feels nothing, hears nothing, sees nothing. When Samantha finds her breath again she is herself, kneeling in the alleyway with all her memories intact.
"Miss-Haley...?" Her name slips from his lips and his head suddenly feels like it's being split in two. He leans against the brick wall, his past life flooding back to him. The darkest times of his old life choking him, the dark deeds he'd performed on citizens of New York as the vigilante Rorschach. He watches this woman enter his life and then leave it without him being able to say anything to her. Tears brim his eyes as he watches her died again, his true feelings for her always bubbling just below the surface but unable to say them. Years pass in seconds, Daniel quit with the pass of the Keene Act, The Comedian died, Hollis Mason died, Rorschach went to jail, the world; where they now know such a lasting peace, destroyed and rebuilt by the same man. Finally his own death comes to him, in brilliant blue glory. Only when the pain dissipates does Walter come back to the present and begin to breath again. He casts his eyes to Samantha, who is looking at him, shaking just as much as he is.
The same painful silence hangs between them once again as neither party knows what to say. They allow themselves to catch their breath before they even think about speaking.
"I should go," she finally whispers, her voice quiet and sad. She thinks he's now the same man she had known so long ago. She stands; wobbling slightly, before walking away. For a moment Walter can't do anything but breath, he's still processing the thirty odd years of life forced upon him. He watches her walk several yards by before truly coming back to the present.
"I never got to tell you," he blurts out. Samantha pauses, turning back to him.
"What?"
"Rorschach was a parasite inside me. He wouldn't allow me to tell you..." Samantha watches this man; who she knew to have never struggled with much in his life, struggle to find the right words. "Tell you anything, felt you made me weak." Walter looks away from her, afraid if he said them while looking in her eyes, he would never be able to get them out. "You didn't-make me weak. You were... You were the only precious thing in my life. And then...you never gave me the chance to say anything before you departed." He finally looks back to her and she's crying.
"Walter..." His name slips from her lips as she thinks, 'Make me a liar, please.'
Walter chokes on his final words and opts for something physical. He takes several strides forward, gripping Samantha's face, and placing his lips to hers. For a second there is nothing in the world, but their kiss. Suddenly his tongue is begging entry, she allows him and then there's nothing but passion. The force of their passion pushes them into the brick wall of their ancient dwelling. For what feels like hours nothing matters; not even air, to either party but this kiss. Both have tears running down their faces, mingling saltiness into their passion. After several minutes the couple breaks for air, resting their foreheads together.
"I love you, Samantha Haley," Walter finally says after a minute or two of heavy breathing, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders; as if he had been holding onto those words for centuries. "I've wanted to tell you since that Christmas together. I hated-I despised myself for never telling you. I saw the disappointment on your face. I'm sorry." Walter kisses her lips softly, tasting her salty tears. "I love you," he whispers into her mouth and she inhales his words, to keep them within her forever.
"Thank you," she chokes. He looks at her mismatched eyes quizzically. What was she thanking him for? "Thank you making me a liar. I regret the last thought I ever had...because I cursed you for not telling me. I hated myself in that last moment...," Samantha pauses, looking for something else to say when Walter speaks.
"Let's get out of here." He strokes her face, wiping tears from her flush cheeks.
"Your place or mine?" she smiles.
"If it was ever going to happen anywhere, it would have happened at your place," he admits. She smiles, taking his hand and leading them to the curb where she hails a taxi. She tells the cabbie where to go and then delves into conversation, as if they hadn't just been given their seven hundred year old life stories. She asks him about work, he's a private investigator with Daniel at 'Ink & Feather Investigations' and had saved little Blair Roche this time around. Walter finds out that Samantha is still keeping up with her art, having become New York's premier photographer. He smiles at hearing her voice go on and on at length about the work she's able to do.
"I missed you," he says after a moment of silence. "November of eighty-five. Those ten years were...agonizing. I never want to do that again." Samantha reaches out for his hand, taking the rough appendage in her soft, silky hands.
"I'm sorry. How?" she questions, her curiosity winning out.
"Manhattan... Something dangerous happened and Manhattan had to kill me," Walter half admits, almost sure he shouldn't reveal the real reason he was killed.
"We're here," the driver says, stopping his electric car on the curb outside Samantha's studio. She gives the driver the money, plus a healthy tip. They enter her studio and he's amazed at the shear number of photographs cluttering the walls. From photos of models to the odd candid of friends. Even the occasional newspaper clipping hangs on the wall.
"You never lost you touch," he says, turning to her, noticing the smile on her face. "You live here too?" Walter turns back to the photos, picking the emotions from them.
"I have a penthouse suite in this building. The elevator's right there." She points to his left. "It's private." He looks back to Samantha, one eyebrow cocked in curiosity. She smiles sweetly, walking to the elevator. Together they press the up button and board the machine, which seems to rocket up the thirty floors as soon as the doors close.
Samantha welcomes Walter to her home when the doors open to her penthouse. The windows take up almost the entire wall of the living room, allowing the greatest view of New York City. The kitchen is spacious and he can see the bedroom through the frosted doors. Her sketches cover the walls of the living room, they're mostly of him.
He walks up to the sketches, though he can't remember ever seeing Samantha at anytime in his new life there were so many new sketches of his face on her wall. He turns to say something but can't when his eyes catch her face. She's looking out the windows, her breathing ragged, and tears brimming her mismatched eyes.
In silence, he walks behind her and grips her around the middle, placing his head on her back, listening to her fast beating heart. For an eternity they stand like this, slightly swaying as Samantha begins to sing, hear voice breaking every few words as the tears run freely. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make my happy, when skies are grey. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please...don't-," She sobs, unable to finish the last line.
"Please don't take my sunshine away," Walter finishes, his own voice on the verge of breaking. Suddenly Samantha begins to cry in earnest. He crosses in front of her and catches her as her legs give way beneath her. He helps her kneel to the ground, cradling her as she sobs. Walter begins rocking her to and fro as she cries on, his chin on her shoulder, a hand running through her impossibly long ginger hair. Suddenly her arms are around him, holding him tightly as if he were about to disappear if she let him go.
The new action causes Walter to hold his breath. This isn't a hug of any kind, this is desperation on her part. She's afraid his personality will change as suddenly as it once had and she'll lose him again. Walter's body subtly reminds him that it needs to breath, so he does with a sudden need to tell Samantha something. He tries to move, but she grips him tighter.
"No, Samantha look at me," he asks, placing his hands on her shoulders; giving space between them. He cups her flushed face in his rough hands, making her look at him. Her mismatched jade eyes are wide with something between fear and desire. "I will never leave you," Walter admits, making her shoulders lose all tension and turning the fear to happiness. "We've both waited too long for this. I won't let you slip through my fingers again," he declares. Samantha sighs and smiles at the same time, a half hysterical laugh flies from her mouth before she can stop herself. Walter suddenly kisses the tears from her lips and continues with the softest; and surprisingly, most gentle kiss he can muster. Her bottom lips quivers with the touch of his lips.
"You have no idea how good it feels to hear you say that, Walter."
"You have no idea how good it feels to say it." Walter pauses a moment, he knows what he wants, he's just unsure about how to go about it. When his brain fails to come up with a gentle way of saying it, he opts for truth. "I'm not as averse to sex as I used to be, but I'm quite inexperienced," he admits, almost sheepishly.
"Heh, it's alright, Walter. I will be as gentle as I have ever been and I'll guide you through it if you need me to," she smiles, Walter nods. "You're absolutely sure though?" Her brows peak in curiosity, she doesn't want to force anything on him he's not ready for.
"I made you wait and it cost you your life. I am not doing that to you again," he declares adamantly.
Her smile make his heart skip a beat and heats his skin. "Alright, okay. Let's go to the bedroom then, it's, uh, more private," she says after a quick look at the large windows of her living room. Walter glances back at the windows as well, giving a short giggle. It would be strange for his first time to be so public.
When he turns back, Samantha's already standing holding a hand out to help him up. She pulls him up with the same remarkable strength he remembers from their old life. She leads him through the frosted doors to an expansive, well decorated bedroom. The objects are dimly lit in the dying sun but he can make out a king size bed with lengthy night tables winging it on both sides, a desk and chair, a dresser and wardrobe.
"You've done well for yourself," he says absentmindedly walking to the desk and flicking on the light there. More photographs stare back at him, though most of these are of Samantha herself taken by others. He looks closely at one and finds an unexplained sadness lingering in her eyes.
"It'll be easier if you take your shoes and socks off now," she says from behind him. Walter turns to see her bare foot and snagging one of the fluffy pillows from the bed. He does as asked and begins to strip his jacket when Samantha suddenly grabs his hands; the pillow tossed nonchalantly on the floor at his feet.
"No, I want to strip you down, then you can me, okay?" she whispers, making him incline his head to hear her. There's something deeper to what she's asking him, even though his brain came seem to find what it is.
"Okay," he says after a moment.
She smiles. "If there's ever a moment when you feel any kind of discomfort or something's happening that you don't like, I want you to tell me and I'll stop. Okay, Walter?" she says in her sweet motherly voice. It hasn't changed a bit in the seven hundred year gap since he last heard it.
Walter pauses before answering, noting the look of concern on her face. "I will, I promise." He finally nods after several nervous minutes. Samantha smiles, a fantastic, relieved smile that Walter would have to try hard to forget. She releases his hands and he lets them fall limp to his sides. Samantha places her hands so gently on his chest that Walter barely feels them there. She's staring at his chest, the shirt just taught enough to outline his muscles. Slipping her hands beneath the fabric of his jacket, she slowly pushes the article from Walter's shoulders. Samantha plants her lips onto his while she tugs the sleeves over his hands, tossing the jacket aside before embracing him.
Walter remembers her kisses from centuries past; even those they've shared today, none of the were as passionate as the kiss he's receiving now. There's a fire, a want, almost a need in her kiss now. He can feel how fast she'd like to take this, but he knows she's going to take it incredibly slow, build the tension, and allow him to trust and want her the way she wants him.
Breaking the kiss; allowing both to breath once again, Samantha slowly begins undoing each button on Walter's shirt. The gentle touch stirs something in his loins that has rarely felt in either life. He moans under his breath as she opens the cotton blend shirt, tugging it gently from his jeans. Walter takes the chance to take in Samantha's face. There's awe in her smiling eyes. Her fingers dance over his bare skin, sending electric shivers through him. She's barely touching him and it's beginning to drive him crazy.
"You have less scars than I remember." He's backlit, but she can still make out each scar on his bare chest.
"I'm not a vigilante anymore," he laughs, looking down at her hands as they graze his flesh; leaving trails of extreme sensitivity in their wake. "I don't get hurt as often as I used to." Samantha pulls the shirt down his arms, giving gentle tugs when his hands refuse to leave the cuffs. After she tosses his shirt atop the coat, her hands trace up his arms; outlining every muscle she can lay her long, delicate, silky soft fingers on. Walter takes a shuddering breath as those fingers press into the angry scar on his left shoulder. One they both remember, when she explained her story and fixed him up even though he was adamant about not being treated by a woman. Samantha smiles sadly at it another minute before moving on to the rest of his torso.
She presses her fingers into every scar, as if dissecting Walter. As she traces his pectorals, her left thumb accidentally grazes his nipple, causing Walter to gasp and freeze with the jolt of electricity suddenly making his heart pump a thousand times faster. Samantha notices the change and looks him in the eyes, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. She grazes the nipple again, instilling the same reaction.
With curiosity in her eyes, Samantha traces the areola with the very tip of her finger, causing his nipples to harden and is penis twitch in anticipation. He shivers at her touch as she places more pressure on his nipple, before quickly taking it between her thumb and forefinger; gently pulling it toward her. Walter closes his eyes, his back arches responsively and a low, throaty moan escapes his lips.
"So we've found a pressure point have we?" Samantha asks more to herself than to Walter. She releases his nipple and his back slumps back into a more comfortable position. Though before he can regain his composure, she sets her mouth on his other nipple, gently sucking the erogenous flesh. Walter's back arches two-fold; as she takes his free nipple between her fingers once again. Her tongue dances around the areola before she takes the duct gently between her teeth and pulls away, letting it snap back when Walter's body shudders with pleasure. The mischievous look is back and before Walter has anytime to recover, she blows gently on the wet flesh enticing a shudder from the strong man before her.
Walter slumps against the desk edge in an almost defeated way. "I guess I know what buttons to push. Though you're still not a hundred percent yet," she adds, casting her eyes to his jeans. When her eyes meet Walter's again, there's a hunger somewhere deep in them. "Should I continue?"
It takes him a moment to catch his breath but when he does speak, it's a deep, guttural, "Yes." Her eyes smile as she kneels on the pillow at Walter's feet. Looking up at him, her hands are back on his chest, gently teasing his nipples once more before tracing over his abs. He notices the fascination in her eyes as she traces his features. Suddenly her dextrose fingers are undoing his belt, button, and fly in such a fluid way he can't help but be impressed. She pulls his hips away from the desk and carefully pushes his jeans down his thighs.
Black briefs stare at her, his semi-hard penis pressing into the fabric. He leans back onto the desk and lifts both of his legs so she can toss his jeans among his other clothes. When he sets his feet back on the floor, Samantha hooks her fingers under the elastic band of Walter's briefs. Her eyes flutter up to his, asking for permission. He gives a slow nod and she gently tugs the underwear down, exposing Walter in such a dramatic way that his semi instantly becomes hard. There's shock, surprise, and awe on her face as she stares at him. Suddenly Walter feels self conscious as Samantha stares on, pulling the underwear down to his ankles. He quickly steps from the fabric, which is tossed to the rest of his attire.
Still she doesn't speak, Samantha's only grinning, making Walter wonder what she's thinking. She takes his hips in hand, grazing her forefingers down his sensitive; and a slightly ticklish, cut lines. Her hands glide down the side of his legs, her fingers finding each dent of the muscle as they travel down. Then they travel back up the front of his legs; her fingers once again searching out and defining every muscle. She avoids his cock for the time being; she'll give it plenty of attention later, and travels the cut lines once more, around his hips and to his buttocks; where she massages the muscles for a few minutes. Then her hands travel down the back of his legs in the same fashion, until her hands rest on his ankles.
When Samantha travels up Walter's leg for a forth time, it's seductively slow on the sensitive inside of his legs. His knees threaten to give way when she reaches them, so he leans against the desk once more, his breathing suddenly becoming very difficult the higher her hands travel. Samantha smiles, enjoying the sensation of Walter's trembling muscles beneath her delicate fingers. The higher her hands travel the slower she moves, prolonging the sensation for Walter; who feels like he's about to explode any second.
When she doesn't hear him breathing, her head shoots up. "Just breath, Walter. In and out, just like everyday," she instructs, removing her hands from his inner thighs and placing them on his hips. She shakes them gently, saying, "Come on, Walter, lookit me." His eyes snap open and he sees the concern he's caused. "Just like everyday. In and out," she instructs once more. This time Walter follows the orders and begins to breath steadily again. Her brows are pitched in concern and her voice is a little unsteady when she speaks.
"We can stop if you want."
"No." His answer almost feels to quick. After a steadying breath he says, "No," once more. "I'm fine, it's just not something I've ever felt before. I just...have to remember to breath." Her face breaks in a relieved smile. "Please keep going," he practically begs.
"Okay," she whispers so low that Walter has to read her lips. She turns her attention to the pulsing member before her. She follows his cut lines to the base of his cock, where the touch causes Walter to quiver with the new sensation. Her attention is wholly on the appendage before her, her fingers playing through the curl of dark red pubic hair. She smirks at the thought running through her head, 'While he had no one to please, he still trimmed himself here.'
"You know, I always wondered what you looked like under all the clothes you wore." Samantha looks her mismatched eyes to Walter's face. "You don't disappoint," she smiles.
"I'm glad," he answers in a quivering voice. As gently as she can force herself, Samantha finally takes his cock in her fingers, a sensation Walter could never have prepared himself for. Her touch sends sparks through him and even though he feels like exploding, he doesn't. She's extremely careful, almost treating the member as a piece of fragile glass. She caresses the skin with a deep tenderness Walter has never felt.
His hips twitch as her fingers find his scrotum, cradling them with extreme care. She knows how sensitive they are as she carefully massages them, her fingers dancing around each other as they occasionally pinch the flesh, eliciting moans and groans. Leaving one hand cradling his scrotum, she grips his cock with the other, gently touching her lips to the tip.
Walter gasps at the new touch. Her lips are extra soft on him, gently gliding on the tingling flesh. She parts her lips and pokes the tip with her tongue, making Walter's entire body shake. He feels her smile as he closes his eyes and begins to breath deeply as her mouth and fingers dance along his member. His stomach ripples with her slow, gentle motion. After a few strokes, Samantha begins to speed up and apply a little more pressure to his cock with her hand. In a single moment, Walter's hips are rising and falling with her motion. She adjusts herself as he pushes off the desk, placing his hands on the surface behind him for balance. Abandoning his scrotum, Samantha reaches a hand up and pinches the nipple between her fingers once more and immediately the movement picks up pace; her own hips gyrating in tandem.
Even though he's rarely experienced any physical touch, Walter knows he's close to climaxing. In one swift movement, Samantha deep throats his cock and presses her knuckles into the smooth skin just beyond his scrotum; pushing Walter into ecstasy. His back arches with a final thrust of his hips into her mouth. A deep groan escapes his throat as the moment drags on, her knuckles still pressed deep into his flesh. As Samantha removes her mouth, she swallows his seed, a small amount trickling from the corner of her mouth.
"Was that good for you?" she gasps, her knuckles gently releasing their pressure on his prostate. His hips twitch as a little more seed spills from his member.
It takes several deep breaths before Walter is even able to consider answering her question. "God yes," he finally manages. He watches her massage her jaw, trying to will the sudden tension from it. He rest his butt on the desk again when he feels his arms shaking violently beneath him.
"That was a fun exploratory. You oughta catch your breath before we move on to the next part." As she stands her knees crack violently, but she's smiling. "God, that felt good." She glances at Walter, his pulse and breathing are rapid and he's glistening with sweat. His eyes flash to her and Samantha sees something that excites her. He can't wait to make her feel the same way.
After ten minutes, Walter pushes up from the desk and just stands for a moment. When he's sure his legs will hold him, he strides to Samantha, grips her by the shoulders, and places his mouth to hers. His tongue begs entrance and she complies. Walter tastes the salty and almost sweetness of himself in her mouth. He breaks the kiss, breathing hard and resting his forehead on hers. Samantha's breath is hot against his already warm skin.
"You might have to walk be through some of this. I don't know everything-anything," he adds after a moment of thought.
"Okay," she giggles. Walter moves her to where he was standing. The sheer amount of hair causing her face to be hidden from the backlighting. He leans around and moves the lamp just a bit, bringing her smiling face into view. She stands a little straighter and waits to be explored. Walter brings her face to his and he kisses the scar almost encircling her left eye. She turns her head to make it easier for him. He pulls away when he tastes a salty tear.
He lightly traces the thin, nearly invisible scar with a rough finger before speaking. "You're life stayed the same...didn't it?" Her eyes meet his, but they're sad.
"Yes it did." Instinctually, Walter lifts her left hand, his fingers encircling the wound where he remembers a pencil sticking through the flesh.
He gasps, suddenly remembering, "I saved you." He can hear her smile. "No, this life, I saved you in this life too." He looks up to her and she gasps with sudden remembrance as well. "I saw you running from him, I couldn't ignore it. Unlike the rest of New York," he says quietly, seeing the scene play through his head.
"Oh my god, I do remember. Why didn't this come back to us then?" she muses.
"I don't know." Eager to forget the dark thoughts swimming through his brain, Walter plants his lips to hers. They breath each other in as they tangle their tongues together, his hand traveling up her arm, pausing at the wrist where he feels another scar. Up and down, not left to right like most attempts. He breaks the kiss, but keeps his lips close to hers.
"How old were you?"
"Fifteen." Walter lifts her wrist so he can see the scar in the light. It's by no means small and unnoticeable, it's long and a glaring pink, raised from the skin like a glittering road sign in the dead of night. He bring the scar to his lips and kisses it gently. He can feel her muscles tense and shiver beneath his lips.
Walter releases her wrist and moves to unbutton her peasant blouse. The fabric is loose and flowing, masking her figure. When the last button comes undone, the garment slips from her smooth skin to the floor. He quickly undoes the knot holding her skirt captive around her hips and it too falls around her feet. Samantha's lingerie is simply seductive. Black lace on white satin. He looks up to her face with a half-smile on his lips.
"All my intimates are black and white. I just...I couldn't stop myself from buying them," she admits with a giggle. He leans forward, gracing her lips with a passionate kiss. Pressing his body into hers; his penis already becoming hard once more, his fingers find the clasp of the bra, deftly undoing them as if he's done it hundreds of times before. The straps loosen from her shoulders as her breasts bounce slightly from their release.
He breaks the kiss, pulling away to look at her as Walter reveals the only breasts he's ever wanted to look at and touch. The areola is a beautifully dark, rosy pink; a stark contrast to the rest of Samantha's pale flesh. For several silent moments, he simply watches them rise and fall as she breathes. His eyes travel over her skin, when he catches another thin white scar over her right clavicle. He gently traces it with a finger before kissing the length of the scar.
Samantha tips her head back and releases a moan. She feels Walter smile against her skin as he moves his mouth to the closest nipple, eliciting another moan of pleasure as he takes it between his lips. He allows his hands to travel her arms, mapping out her muscles and causing the same tingling sensation she caused in him. With a sudden passion, Walter grips her whole left breast in his hand, while sucking harder on her right nipple; causing her body to arch into his. Samantha grips his shoulders for balance when Walter places his opposite hand at on her back, keeping her arched.
Walter's completely hard as Samantha moans louder, but he can't explore her with his cock just yet. He pinches both nipples and gently pulls at them, letting the right one slip through his teeth quickly; he doesn't trust himself not to bite her. With a spark of thought, he blows softly on the wet nipple, causing Samantha to shudder.
"I should not have done that to you," she whimpers, biting her lip when she looks to him. "Um, when we get to..." She points her head down, she's trying to be delicate about it. "Do you want me to sit on the desk?"
"Will it be easier for you?"
"It'll probably be easier for both of us," she smiles. Walter takes one knee, looping his fingers around the elastic of her underwear and slowly pulls it down. She's clean shaven and he can see the same dark, rosy pink between her legs; slightly engorged and glistening. Walter simply looks at her sex with a strange and unfounded fascination. Never in either life did he ever want to see this, but now he finds he can't pull his eyes away. Samantha steps gingerly from the underwear, the movement suddenly breaking his trance.
Walter gathers the clothes at her feet and tosses them onto the pile of his. When he turns back, her stance is a little wider, almost inviting him to touch her. Walter wants to, badly, but he steels himself to wait, opting to place his hands on her tight stomach. The muscles twitch beneath his rough fingers, but gently glide along her smooth skin. His thumbs find the edge of her pelvis; where her legs meet her torso, making her cringe.
"Sorry," he says, quickly pulling his hands away, but she grips his wrists before he can lose all contact.
"No," she almost shouts. After a few deep breaths she repeats, "No," calmer this time. "It's just...highly erogenous, extremely sensitive, and incredibly ticklish right there. It is on most women. Just a feeling I need to get used too. I didn't mean to cringe," Samantha apologizes. Walter looks from the spot to her face and back again.
"Like my cut lines?"
"Yes," she gasps when Walter's fingers dance over the sensitive flesh again.
"I'll keep that in mind," he whispers, pressing his lips into one side then the other. Her hips twitch beneath his lips, but she doesn't cringe again. Walter pulls away, allowing his hands to glide down her legs in the same fashion she touched him. First down the sides, then up the front, over the tingling flesh to her buttocks; where he feels a scar he had forgotten. He massages her butt for several minutes; enjoying the tightness of it in his hands, while his mouth finds the sensitive skin once more. His tongue pokes, prods, and licks the flesh; which feels different under his tongue than his fingers. Samantha's hips tilt, almost trying to escape his mouth, but his firm hold on her ass keeps her within distance. Satisfied with her reaction, Walter then glides his hands down the back of her legs. She's shivering, as if it's taking tremendous strength to stay standing; which it is.
Walter allows his fingers to dance over the tops of her feet, just to see what kind of reaction he can get. The touch sends a shudder all the way up her body, where it leaves her trying to catch her breath as his hands start finding their way up the inside of her legs. Her knees betray her and she slumps into the desk as Walter continues to travel up her, slowly moving up her inner thighs; causing her breath to catch. His fingers graze her outer lips, eliciting a throaty moan. After a lingering moment, he simply cups her sex with one hand; feeling the extreme warmth and wetness of it.
"Does you want me on the desk now?" she gasps, an almost begging tone hidden in her ragged breathing.
Walter stands. "Not yet, turn around," he orders. Her legs take a moment to work, but Samantha complies, taking a wider stance and placing her hands upon the desk. The sight of her back tugs at his heartstrings. One long, glaring scar stares at him, while numerous little ones dance along her back. His fingers press into the little scars first, until he finds one that hurts.
"There's still glass in there!" There's a concern in his voice he's never heard before.
"Some of them. The shards broke on their way in, some so small the doctors couldn't find the missing pieces." The bitterness is clear in Samantha's voice. Walter wraps his arms around her middle, kissing the nape of her neck until he finds the head of her largest scar.
Resting his chin on her right shoulder, Walter contemplates his question. "What did he do this one with?"
Samantha glances at him, a profound sadness there. "Kevin didn't give me that scar." Walter's head shoots up, he knows what she's about to say. "My mother did it with a craving knife. I spent my Christmas night sewing up that scar. I don't even recall why she was angry," she admits, hanging her head. Forgoing his hands this time, Walter explores the scar with his tongue alone. Gently feeling the rough and smooth skin at the same time; occasionally planting a light kiss on the scarred flesh. Samantha's back arches as he crosses from right to left, sticking her tush out and leaning into his mouth a little more the lower he goes. He kneels without breaking contact, still dragging his tongue over her round ass and down her left leg. Samantha moans as Walter's tongue gets closer to the sensitive back of her knee, gasping when his right hand grips her butt.
He licks the back of her knee, causing it to give way and Samantha to moan pleasurably. He kisses the sensitive skin before rising to plant kisses over her firm buttocks. His fingers follow the seam, parting the muscles slightly.
"Ah!" Samantha exclaims, feeling the sudden pressure of a finger against her anus that sends a shiver up her spine.
Walter immediately removes his finger, looking up to her face. "Not good?"
"Ah, not bad. Just-unexpected," she says, shock in her voice. He takes the hint and turns her around by her hips.
"Sorry."
She smiles. "It's okay, I just never got played with there that often is all. And it's always a shock to the system when it happens." Assuming he's ready to explore her inner workings, Samantha slides onto the desk, letting one leg hang from the desk while sitting the other in the chair. Walter's head is cocked to one side as he simply looks at the organ before him.
"Give me your hands," she asks quietly. Walter complies, still not looking away. She places both of his hands onto her and he feels a charge of energy go through him. "Just be gentle. It's all very sensitive and can easily be over stimulated, so use delicate pressure. Okay?" He simply nods, pulling one hand away so he can see better. He picks one large fold of skin between his fingers, sending a shiver through Samantha. He pushes the adjacent flap of rosy skin aside to reveal the darker inner lips.
Confusion knits his brows together. "You're darker on the inside." His inflection almost sounding like a question.
"Every women is different, from bright pink to a deep chocolate brown. And there are some people like me, who are everywhere in between," she explains.
"What is this?" he questions, taking the nub of flesh at the head of her sex between his fingers and rubbing it gently. It instills a shiver and a groan from his partner. He stops the motion to give her a chance to explain.
"That," she starts, her bottom lip quivering. "Is the clitoris. A, um, quite sensitive little organ. Delicate pressure, use the flats of your fingers," Samantha explains, leaning back on her hands. Walter looks from her face to her clitoris. He spreads her lips a little wider and places the flat of his thumb against it, stroking up and down gently, switching sides every few strokes. Her hips instantly start rising and falling in time with his slow rhythm.
He releases the clitoris a moment, picking up the folds of skin between his fingers and simply rubbing them gently. He makes sure to pay attention to each side equally; Samantha seems like the kind of person who likes everything to be paid attention to equally. Walter spreads her outer lips, peering at her clit once more; it's a fun little organ to play with, but he ignores it for now, taking her more sensitive inner lips in his fingers and massaging them as well. Suddenly, Samantha's breath becomes ragged as she tries to control herself, bringing a smile to Walter's lips.
After the short massage, he places two fingers on either side of her clitoris, gently stroking it up and down. Samantha closes her eyes as her breathing becomes more labored. He slows the motion; trying not to push her over the edge into bliss. Walter cocks his head to one side, peering at what he assumes is the opening to her vagina. He glides a finger over the soft, wet flesh enticing a moan from the recipient. He half-smiles, gently rubbing there for several moments, keeping time with the gentle rise and fall of Samantha's hips. Gliding down, Walter finds the opening he's looking for and slowly inserts his finger; following the slight curve of the warm inner flesh. Samantha gasps, arching her back at the intrusion, but welcoming him. He pulls his finger mostly back out, before finding a steady rhythm to excite his woman.
It doesn't take long for the speed to pick up, Samantha almost bucking in heat. She gasps when Walter inserts a second finger into her. She tosses her head back in a huff as he begins to rub the walls of her vagina.
"You sure-you've never-ah-done this before?" she manages between gasping breaths.
"Positive," he whispers, a sudden instinct wanting to take over him. Walter obeys his intuition by removing his fingers from her clitoris and placing his mouth over the little organ.
"Oh god, Walter!" she practically screams. He smiles against her flesh as he begins to suck and toy with the nub of nerves with his tongue. His scruff tickles her sensitive flesh, but Samantha is enjoying the sensation. The speed of Walter's fingers reaches a fever pitch, as does the rippling of her body as she begins to climax. He pokes her clitoris with his tongue and plunges his fingers deep inside, pushing Samantha over the edge. She tosses her head back and lets out a scream of ecstasy.
She can't speak as her chest heaves, coming down from space. Samantha's eyes are closed as her body slowly comes down to its usual calm rhythm. She rolls her head on her shoulders, a broad smile plastered on her features as she looks down at Walter; just taking his mouth away from her.
"I thought you sai-," she pauses to take several deep breaths. "Thought you said you hadn't done this before." It's a statement, but her tone is questioning.
"Instincts I guess." After several moments, Samantha's hips stop twitching and Walter pulls his fingers out, slowly. Curiosity alights his eyes as he gazes as the liquid coating his fingers, creamy white and sticking as he pulls his fingers apart. He licks his fingers, amazed at how sweet the liquid is.
"Thank you, Walter," Samantha purrs, wrapping her arms around her man's neck as he stand. He kisses her softly, allowing her to taste herself as he had himself. She smiles and plants her mouth squarely on his in a fury of passion. Walter accepts her tongue eagerly, occasionally nipping it with his teeth. Suddenly she's standing and their moving toward the bed, still interlocked in a kiss.
Samantha grips Walter by the shoulders and together they tumble onto the bed. He catches himself, breaking their kiss as she hit's the bed with a cushioned THUMP. She's wearing a cats grin when he looks down at her, the same grin playing on his own lips. They center themselves on the bed, mouths open to each other, begging to be kissed. She clasps his shoulders, lifting herself to his ear.
"Fill me," Samantha purrs, nipping his lobe in a frenzy. Walter readies himself between her legs; which are pitched on either side of his hips. He spreads her lips and gently inserts himself into her. She gasps, digging fingers into her bedspread. Slowly he pushes the length of himself all the way in, her hips twitching occasionally. Walter's breath becomes deep and guttural as he adjusts himself to the closeness of her vagina.
The base of his cock collides with her outer lips causing Samantha to arch her neck and moan, "Fuck me, Walter, please."
"Yes." His voice is heated and throaty, wanting this as much as she does. Walter slowly pulls out, brushing her opening with the tip and relishing in the reaction it receives. Samantha shivers, cupping one breast and his hip. He pushes back in quickly finding a rhythm as their bodies begin to glisten with sweat.
Samantha sat up, twisting her hips this way and that, tossing his head back with a groan. She kisses his Adam's apple, moving along his neck and biting his clavicle. Walter braces her with a hand at the small of her back, his hips gyrating to meet her twisting motion. She placed her delicate lips to his, a hungry kiss breaking out as her fingers played with his nipples.
In a moment of instinctual passion, Walter grabs Samantha's hands from his chest and pins her to the bed. She gasps, just staring at his hands on hers. She stops moving, stops breathing, she just freezes. For a lost moment, he wonders why and then he sees the fear in her eyes. With sudden clarity, he releases her wrists and turns her face to his, but she can't tear her eyes away.
"Samantha, look at me." He gently shakes her head and her eyes snap to him, her body unfreezing; as if suddenly remembering it has a soul to keep alive. "I'm sorry, I didn't think. It won't happen again, I promise." She glances to her wrists then quickly back to his face.
"Okay," she whispers. "Okay." He silences her with a kiss, slowly thrusting his hips again, her body instinctively reacting with its counter thrust in perfect time. His kisses apologizing over and over again. Walter feels pressure around his cock as she murmurs, "I'm close," in his ear. She grips his hips, helping him thrust into her. Their pace quickens as they near bliss together. Walter gives a final deep thrust, coming inside her as she peaks, her back arching at the pleasure of it all.
Walter's arms fail him and he slumps to her chest, breathing hard. Samantha wraps her arms around him, whispers thanks and I love you's over his heated flesh. His knees protested the uncomfortable position, so he slid from her; their joined ejaculate staining the bedding. He collapses on the bed, a sleepy smile on his lips as he kisses her neck and slowly falls asleep.
Walter shudders awake, almost forgetting where he is. His arm drapes Samantha's body and she holds his hand. He releases a breath when he sees her steady breathing. He had dreamed he'd lost her and she had no real idea how he felt for her. Walter leans in and kisses her cheek. He can feel her smile.
"I love you, Walter," she whispers in her sleep.
"I love you, Samantha." He releases her hand and gets up from the bed. He finds their clothes in the dark, searching for his briefs. When he finally locates them, he slides them on before exiting the room, looking back at her one more time.
Walter walks out to the living room and gazes out the large windows of her penthouse. He can see almost the entire city through her windows. After several long minutes, he finally muses, "Peace based on a lie."
"But peace nonetheless," comes a voice behind Walter. He can see the glow reflecting in the glass and knows who it was before he turns around. Doctor Manhattan stands in Samantha's living room, as bright and unchanged as when Walter had last seen him in nineteen eighty-five. For a moment or two they stand and look at each other in silence.
"Why?" Walter finally questions.
"Because the world forgot you. Forgot most of what happened seven centuries ago. It was not my intension at first, but I saw in your mind, so filled with blood and cruelty. Then there was her, the one sliver of light in your dark world and you tried to push her away, but she wouldn't allow it. She loved you, Kovacs, from the moment she saw you and you couldn't tell her, he wouldn't let you tell her. You wanted her, to live with her, to love with her, to die with her, but again he wouldn't let you. I thought I would give you a second chance to have all that. A second chance to be happy, a second chance to love, a second chance to get things right," Manhattan explains.
"Thank you. I should have told her then," Walter starts.
"But then the world would not have played out as it needed. You would not have been the Rorschach you were supposed to be and the world would not be as it is. I do not need to worry, do I?" Doctor Manhattan inquires.
Walter shakes his head. "No, for her...I wouldn't jeopardize peace," he admits.
Doctor Manhattan nods in appreciation. "Enjoy your life with her, Walter Kovacs. You two, above all others, deserve this second chance most." With a final nod, the manmade lightning blue god disappears, leaving the room in sudden darkness.
Walter closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, the years he had felt at war with himself were finally over, he is finally allowed peace and happiness. He is finally allowed Samantha.
~THE END~