The air in the loft was stifling, stagnant…an unmoving, oppressive blanket that pushed down on them so that they wanted no real comforter or sheets or even clothes. They rested finally, lingering leisurely until their lungs were satiated. It felt too warm now to do more than brush fingers over fingers and stare blissfully through the haze at the ceiling of the loft high above them.
"Michael?"
Neither of them moved.
"Yeah, Fi?"
Her voice was thin and distant, competing as it was with the pounding of the blood in his ears. "Did you miss me?"
His response was not immediate and so an elbow jabbed into his ribs.
"Jeez, Fi!" He curled away from her in surprise.
She sat up on the bed and curled her legs underneath herself to lean over him. "Did you miss me?" her voice was demanding, but it was hard for him to concentrate on anything other than the movement of her breasts as she spoke.
He laughed uncomfortably, "Um, I was a little preoccupied at the time, Fi."
"I'm sure you were busy with your little spy games, Michael, but there wasn't one spare moment when you thought to yourself, 'Gee, I wish Fiona were here. Wouldn't it just be lovely to have her here backing me up right now?'"
"Fi…I…" he tried to grab her hand but she pulled it away and crossed her arms over her chest.
"It's a simple yes or no question, Michael. Did you miss me?" Her mouth settled into the slightest of pouts.
He sat up on his elbows. "Yes Fi, I missed you, all right?"
She shifted slightly but remained silent, waiting, expecting more.
Michael pushed himself up the rest of the way. He swept a length of her hair back behind her shoulder.
"I missed you, Fi, okay? But I was also happy you weren't there." She huffed and rolled her eyes. He lowered his voice to the tone she knew he saved for his most truthful moments, "It's safer for you when I'm not around."
Her arms flew up, barely missing his face. "You think I care about safety?" she leaned away from him incredulously. "Really, Michael, that's just absurd."
She was laughing until he fixed her with his eyes, pinning her on the spot. The laughter died and left her out of breath. His hands were skimming across the naked expanses of her skin, one hand from her shoulder, down her arm, and around to her hip, the other brushing up the side of her thigh. He pushed her back against the mattress and she didn't resist.
He looked down at her with clouded eyes. "I need you to be safe," he whispered emphatically.
"Well I need you to be safe too, Michael," she whispered back. "And the only way I know to do that is to take care of things myself." She touched his face. "I thought we were going to be a team."
His lips lighted on her cheek and she sighed at the weight of him as he pressed against her, grounding her, rooting her in the moment.
"We'll be a team as long as we can be," he stated.
He almost couldn't hear her, "And then?"
"Fi, can't we just take things one day at a time?"
His hand was stroking her side and running along the edge of her breast. He knew how to make her shiver even in the Florida heat. She tried to focus and not let him cut the conversation short. "If that's what you want, Michael…if that's what you want, but-"
A kiss cut her off then. She sighed into it and she shut her eyes tightly against the onslaught of tears that were welling up. There is no time for tears, after all, when you have to live every moment like it might be your last.