This was going to be part of the Philosophers Series, but I have decided to take a break from that. Thank you CK and Aly for putting up with my crisis of faith...I love you two!


It was a moment that she would never forget, a moment that still makes her blood run cold, a moment when life as she knew it was changed irrevocably. She remembers the moment she thought he had been taken from her was the most frightening moment of her life, more terrifying than being held at gun point, more terrifying than the prospect of being shot, and that was when she knew she was in love with him.

When she thinks back on that moment, she has no clear memory of that period of time. She has no idea how long he was in the water, or how he managed to catch hold of the girl. She remembers struggling to stand, her legs shaky from the gun fight and watching him dive into the dark churning water after the young daughter of a marine who had been kidnapped. She can clearly feel, even hours, days and weeks later, the way her fingers dug into his arms, clinging to him.

How she finally managed it and how they both ended up back on solid ground, she has no idea. She knows she must have dragged both the girl and him out of the water.

She knows that he let the girl go, she heard her coughing next to him. Then he opened his eyes and all she could see was herself reflected in his eyes, all she could feel was his shirt fisted in her hands, and all she could hear was him, gasping for breath and breathing her name.


He remembers the very moment he fell in love with her, remembers it all too well. He remembers thinking that he would never see her again, never hear her laugh and then she was pulling him out of the water, with a strength that belied her size and staring down at him. He remembers her eyes, huge and wide and terrified down to her soul.

He managed to make his arm work well enough to reach up, wanting to touch her, to reassure her, to reassure them both. He meant to clap her shoulder, but he missed by a mile and instead his hand landed on her face. It didn't feel odd to him, even when she turned into the touch, eyes half closed, lips parted and breath warm against the skin of his wrist. It was only when she turned back and leant forward that he wondered what the hell was going on.

It was both strange and familiar when she braced her hand next to his head and kissed him. It was as delicate as a flower and as dangerous as the storm that was still swirling over them, but neither of them seemed to care.

He doesn't remember ever not wanting this. He knew they were not allowed or supposed to be doing it, but there was nothing on earth, or anywhere else, that would have made him stop. He knew that whatever else happened, by the time the morning arrived they were closer than partners. It was so obvious and natural that he doesn't understand how he could have ever have missed it.


She remembers finally pulling away, resting her forehead against his. They stayed like that for a long time, too emotionally drained to move. It was only when she heard the girl coughing again that she realized the worst of the storm, both metaphorical and literal, seemed to have passed, although whether it had truly gone or whether they were just in the eye, she had no idea, she still doesn't.

She wrapped a hand around his wrist and squeezed gently. She opened her eyes and looked at him. They were wet, muddy, exhausted, and battered and she didn't care. She remembers dragging herself to her feet and pulling him up with him, the curl of her fingers around his strangely intimate, though the touch lasts for no more than a couple of seconds, she couldn't imagine ever letting go.


He remembers wrapping the girl in the blankets from the back of the truck and placing her between them in the front, watching as Jen wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close. He remembers silently stripping out of as many clothes as decent. They didn't talk on the drive back to the girls house, which he managed to accomplish without really knowing how he did it. He was far too aware of Jen next to him, of the things they were going to do when they got dry and warm. He wanted to think that he didn't see this coming, but he did, he just didn't understand it. He was fairly certain that she had figured it out though. Just this once though, he didn't mind lagging behind.

He remembers returning the girl to her frantic parents, and returning to the office, and silently writing his report, mindful not to look at her, mindful not to talk to, let alone touch her, less everything he wanted to say came rushing out. He remembers finally managing to leave and bundling her into his car, noting her lack of protest. His skin was prickling and he knew why and he welcomed it, accepted the slow burn of anticipation that curled under his ribcage and squirmed in his stomach.


She remembers reaching out a hand and resting it on his thigh, relishing in the movement of his muscles under her fingers and the fact that he was still alive, sitting next to her. She remembers his slightly anxious smile, a promise and a pledge and an invitation and a question all at once. It was all the things she had been looking for without realizing that they were right under her nose all the time.

She remembers the sky had turned clear by the time they reached her home. She remembers the feel of his hand on hers as he pulled her out of the car and took her keys, they way they shook slightly as he unlocked the door and opened it. He followed her through it and he barely had time to register his surroundings before she pressed him gently against the strong wood, her hands cupped his face, his stubble grazed her palms, and every emotion clearly on her face for him to read.


He remembers finally being able to understand what he had been seeing before, all the looks that he couldn't figure out. Everything made sense now, like the last piece of a puzzle falling into place. He remembers hooking his fingers into the belt loops of her pants and pulling her closer, watching as her eyes slid shut briefly. He remembers not closing his eyes, not wanting to miss a single thing when her body was plastered to his and he was sure that she could feel how much he wanted this. There was no sense of urgency, no need to rush.

He remembers following willingly when she pulled away and grabbed his hand, leading him up the stairs, almost as if she was worried that he was going to tell her to stop. They both knew it was against the rules, but he wanted it so much, still wants it, that he ached with it and he'd given so much, had so much taken, asked for so little, that he remembers telling himself he can have this.


She remembers clearing up the trail of clothes, and weapons the next morning. She remembers the way the traded kisses and trying to strip each other as they moved. It was awkward and both of them had nearly ended up flat on their faces on the stairs at different times, but it didn't slow them down.

He remembers dropping to the bed, pulling her with him, until she straddling his thighs. He remembers her sliding her hands into his hair and kissing his throat. He remembers groaning and his fingers tightening on her thighs. Her hips were rocking against him and he remembers trying to match her rhythm, and he remembers finding it and remembers her hand working its way between them.

She remembers grasping him, and the way he shuddered under her touch. She remembers the low groan that escaped his throat and the way his eyes darkened and he turned them, burying himself deep in her.

He remembers growling nonsensical words about need and ownership and love. He remembers her trembling beneath him as he lost himself in her, whispering her name like a prayer as she cries out his and clenched around him.

She remembers fighting about the light and who was going to turn it off. She remembers that he lost. She remembers the way he crawls back into bed next to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her hard and safe against his chest.

He remembers lying behind her, finding it hard to believe that she fit so neatly against him. He remembers knowing that she needed, wanted to say something.

"What happens now?" She muttered under her breath and he turned her around, his eyes searching her face.

"Anything you want." His voice was low and quiet, as if unsure of what he was saying, the words unfamiliar in his mouth and her hand shifts until it rests over his heart.

He remembers her sleepy smile and the way she settled down against him once again. He remembers listening to her sleep and knowing that he wanted this more than anything else.


I hope it isn't too confusing!!

V!

xox