Night at the Cave

Now that he was sure they were not being followed, he allowed the horse to slow to a more comfortable pace. She had been glued to him during their flight, hanging on for dear life behind him on the mount. Presently, she let her arms drop from their grip around his waist and moved back from him a bit. He hadn't really noticed how close she was to him, hadn't allowed himself to register the sensation fully because of the chase. She was no longer touching him, and he felt the loss.

They rode on in a silence that grew more uncomfortable as the time passed, though neither could pinpoint what made it so unnerving. They stayed on the wilderness path a long while in that way, until the sun began its journey toward the horizon.

"Thank you, John."

"Don't mention it."

"No, really," she replied, "none of the others came back. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't. You saved my life, John."

He drew in a breath as if to answer, but gritted his teeth and let it out instead. There was just nothing he could think of worth saying.

"All of Dutchy's little bastards are cowards. You're the only one worth a lick, in my book. I really can't even think about what those Franklin boys would have done with me if I had been there much longer. Did you hear me John?"

"I heard ya" he finally responded.

"Did Dutch send you back for me?" she asked, after a moment.

A quick and bitter, "No," was his reply.

"Then they would have left me" she murmured under her breath. "So you came back on your own? No plan, just you?" she directed at him.

"Yes….." he trailed off.

Another pause, complete and utter silence. They rode on together like that, without a word spoken, until he couldn't stand another second.

He half turned in his saddle, shifting so that he could look at her over his shoulder as he spoke. "You know, the boys…."

But he didn't get another word in. She pushed in close again, and kissed him hard. First it was only the side of his mouth, but as he began to pull back in shock, she grabbed his face rather roughly and cranked his neck so she could kiss him in full. It was a hard kiss that left little room for contemplation. And after a few heated moments they both pulled back.

They stared at one another, and he saw the astonishment he felt reflected in her face. An uncertain moment passed before either of them dared to breathe at all. It felt like an eternity, but he was the first to break.

Slowly, without looking away from her face, he shifted enough to place a hand on her waist. He splayed his fingers along her tiny frame, and she allowed it. He leaned in again, cautiously, and for a second he thought she might resist. But instead, she pounced on him.

She threw her arms around his neck, and their lips met again. This time, he tasted her fully and let his tongue tangle with hers without any thought to restraint. Suddenly, she left her weight for his single hand to support as she leaned precariously off the saddle to kiss him more forcefully. He had no choice but to separate from her lips, so that he could shift her.

She was tiny and surprisingly easy to maneuver. He shifted her bodily to sit in front of him, straddling the horse and facing him. It was far easier to meet her lips now. More comfortable, too. He lost himself entirely.

Soon, they had both let their hands roam freely. She pressed herself to him; from navel to nose she left no space between them. She could not get enough. His taste was intoxicating, and she needed more. When her lungs insisted on air, she spared a few kisses for his neck and ear, but could not stray long from his mouth. She could sense that he was enjoying it too, he seemed equally enthralled with her lips. Without giving it too much thought, she began to desire more. Her hands trailed from his face to his shoulders, his chest, then to his belt. She tore at his shirt there, pulling it from beneath his waistband, desperate to find skin. When she did, it was to flatten both her hands against his solid chest. She froze. They both did.

Without her noticing, his hand had found its way beneath her skirts and light bloomers. His thumb hovered dangerously close to her center. They each pushed back slightly, took account of the other's face. He desired her, as she did him. It would be easy here….easy, and all too quick. They both felt it, the weight of something more. Again he gazed into her deep brown eyes and saw his own emotion reflected in them….excitement, mixed with fear, and a hint of something he couldn't name. Couldn't, or didn't dare to. He tightened the grip of his hand that had been on her waist since the episode began. Slowly, without letting her move too far, he pulled his hand from under her skirt. She followed in kind, and took her hands from his chest.

She spoke first.

"Let's stay here….for the night."

"Yeah" he answered, rather absently. His eyes had never left hers, his expression hadn't changed. They stared for another moment….an eternity.

Then he shook his head, closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. "Yeah…." He looked about, but kept his grip on her waist. "There's that half-a cave we sheltered in after that job when we hauled in all those Winchesters…."

"I remember," she answered. "It's not far from here, is it? The rocks look the same. "

"No, I think it's just up here. Not even half a mile."

She nodded solemnly. He clicked his heels and gave a short whistle, causing the horse to trot in the direction of the cave. It was not well planned. The motion brought her body into full contact with his, and there was no way to deny just how much he wanted her when their hips met. She was demure with the knowledge though, and simply laid her cheek against his shirt. He let a kiss drop to the top of her head, and they did not speak another word until they reached the granite shelter.

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Once they arrived, they fell easily into the routine of setting up camp. Their jobs were well defined, and well practiced, though usually it involved more of a crowd. As they did not have many of the usual provisions that were required with a whole gang, the work also went quickly.

They tied up the horse, and John went out to gather some suitable wood for a fire. Abbey unsaddled the horse and began the trek up to the rock shelter. She took out the kindling bundle and flints, took out the small cooking pot and dried vitals, and poured some water from a buckskin canteen into a tin cup. She pulled a few golden currant petals saved in her bodice and tossed them into the water to try and kill the crawling, leathery taste that would never quite be quelled. She spread out the bed roll, and waited.

It took John longer than he had hoped, but he was able to catch a rabbit. He brought his small kill and enough wood start a good fire back toward their home for the night. He found her near the foot of the cliff, not far from their horse, with an armful of extra wood. She looked up and smiled when she saw the hare swinging from his satchel. The toothy, girlish smile she offered stole his breath….enough that he took an uncertain step that sent her giggling.

With that, he couldn't help but smile. They both followed the path up to the shelter, bumping and laughing the whole way.

Supper proceeded well enough, though they both acted cautiously. They found innocent ways to touch, with a simple brush of fingers in passing the cup or a silent nudge as they took turns to stir the stewing rabbit. As they began to clean up, John grew anxious. It was hard for him to tell why. He took his satchel full of provisions and the cook pot to hang away from the camp, so as not to attract coyotes or anything worse.

He walked very slowly back up the path to the shelter, though he knew she was waiting for him. A few yards away, he stopped and sat down on the path. He pulled his rifle from his back holster and his bandanna from his pocket. Every night in the gang, he cleaned whatever gun he had used most that day. It was his own personal ritual; it usually calmed him down and steadied his mind. But tonight, it had lost that power. He felt like a fool, but continued the motions anyway.

"John?"

Her voice startled him, and he jumped at the sound but did not turn. He heard her footsteps approach.

She knelt next to and a little behind him, and he tried with trembling hands to continue his work. She reached out, and still he could not look at her. Her hand stopped his with a touch, and his chin fell to his chest in complete defeat.

"It's enough, John."

He did not move. They were still for a while, her tiney hand trying to cover both of his. Then, she moved her hand under his chin. She tilted his face back and, since kneeling she was a little taller than his sitting figure, she dropped a soft, sweet kiss on his lips from above.

He felt like a child. Like he was receiving the loving kiss of a mother he never knew. But Abbey lingered at his lips a while, and then deepened the kiss. An entirely different feeling swept over him, and he lost himself again.

They rose awkwardly. And, as he stood to his full height without separating their lips, he swept her up with him. She instinctively locked her legs around his waist when hands lifted her. He spent a few moments adjusting his balance and kissing her, before he headed back to their shelter.

Eyes only half open, he stumbled toward the bed role and laid her down as gently as he could manage in his state. He had to possess her, and immediately covered her body with his. She complied with all of his unspoken desires and seemed to know what he wanted before he did. It should have disturbed him, how good she was, but he didn't give it a second thought. They tangled for a bit, grabbing and kissing anything they could. Before he became fully aware, his shirt and her bloomers had gone by the wayside. The buttons of his fly were undone to an adequate degree and he had unhooked and hitched her skirts enough for access to what he wanted. But before he could act, she gave a deft shove against him that set her on top of the situation.

"Wait…" she panted.

He froze at the sound, sure he would die if she had changed her mind at this point.

"I want it off," she smiled devilishly down at him, "….all of it." She began to undo the side lace of her bodice, and loosened the cross straps. He stayed still, bewildered by her movements for a moment, but as the clinging cloth visibly relaxed, he began to help remove the garment and ran his hands along her body underneath the sagging fabric. When she was free and had successfully pulled the thing over her head, scattering flower petals over their resting place, he was breathless at the sight of her. He drank her in with his eyes, and allowed his hand reach for her breast.

She smiled again and swooped down to kiss him. But before the heat could build she pushed off him and stood aside, busy unhooking her skirt. "You too," she shot at him, "all of it."

He busied himself with her orders, unbuttoning and shimmying out of his trousers best as he could manage. When he finished the job, he looked up at her and gasped.

She had finished with her skirts, but was turned away from him. The light from the dying fire danced across her skin and made it glow. She was in the act of letting out her hair, shaking its wavy length that wanted to be curls. He realized in that moment, assaulted by the beauty of her form, that he had never seen a fully naked woman before. He had never cared for whores, and the few he had taken up were always fast and efficient. Nothing was granted that wasn't paid for, and he was never willing to waste his money.

As if she could feel his stare, she gave her head another shake and flipped him a coquettish grin over her shoulder. She turned slowly, toward the fire, well practiced at using firelight to her advantage. He held his breath as she approached him again. But, as she neared him, her sure smile faltered.

She ended up kneeling beside him without touching him. Their eyes were locked for a few intense moments, and then she broke the gaze and let her eyes travel down his naked form. His eyes never left her face as she took in his body. Her eyes shimmered with an elusive emotion as they passed over his sharp angles, taught skin, and scars. When her eyes returned to his, she was chewing her lip a bit nervously.

Slowly and solemnly, he reached out and touched her cheek. She reacted by closing her eyes. He ran his hand slowly down her neck, over her shoulder, and down her side. She moaned quietly when he lingered beside her breast again and tilted her chin back with the sound.

He took her in for a moment before whispering her name. "Abbey…."

She opened her eyes, and he noticed that they were uneasy. She drew a trembling breath in through her mouth.

He cocked his head and slowly pulled his hand back from her. "Abbey, are you sure?"

Her brow furrowed, and she grimaced at him as if he was a complete fool. Then she leaned in and kissed him, almost as hard as their first. He was on his back again, and she assaulted his mouth fiercely. Her taste and smell enveloped every part of his being.

They worked themselves into a frenzy, until finally without much warning for either of them, he was sheathed inside her. She pulled herself up, so that her pelvis was perpendicular to his. Wide eyed, they gaped at each other equally astonished as they adjusted to the new sensation.

She was the first to regain herself. With glazed eyes, she braced a hand against his reclining chest without shifting her position. She proceeded to rotate her hips in a way that forced a guttural sound to emerge from John's throat that he himself did not recognize. She continued the motion, and halted after each rotation until he was practically clawing at her body and sputtering senseless words. Her girlish laugh tinkled through the air.

That's when he caught a look at her face. She was smiling that devilish smile of hers, and suddenly he was infuriated by the practiced way she was handling him. He was far closer to completion than she, and he would not stand for it. He made a grimace of his own, and swiftly flipped her on her back with a soft thud as she hit the thinly cushioned bed roll.

He extricated his pelvis from hers and pulled his head back to get a good look at her, while keeping as much other contact between them as he could. Her smile changed, but remained as a quirk of the mouth as she gazed at him a little confused. Her long hair was spread out around her face like a halo, and though he was trying to act peeved, his smile cracked through at the sight of her.

"What do you want, Abigail? Tell me."

Her smile spread to fill her whole face, and she looked on the verge of real laughter.

"You, John…" she chortled softly, "just you."

"Alright."

With that he finally let his own smile overtake his face. He put his thumb into his mouth to wet it. Then used the digit to give a gentle, even stroke to her most sensitive core. The motion caused her whole body to convulse and forced a breathy moan from her parted lips. It was his turn to smile like a devil, and he repeated his motion to the same effect, except that this time her pelvis lifted from the ground. He was chuckling to himself now, as he worked her up and she began to babble as he had.

Finally, it was enough, and their eyes locked. He left his hands on her, and shifted to position himself at her intimate entrance again. She began to close her eyes and tilt her chin back, preparing for him.

"No," he stopped her with a hoarse whisper. "Look at me Abbey. Look at me."

She did, and he drowned himself in her eyes, watched them widen as he tangled his fingertips in her hair and inched himself inside her body. She gasped as she took him in, and groaned as he slipped himself back, letting nothing but the tip of him remain.

He combined his second soft thrust with a light swipe to that most sensitive place, and it turned her groan into a shrill cry. He fell into a rhythm until she begged, "Circles. Tiny circles…I want….please….." He wet his thumb again, without missing a stroke, and met her request.

It wasn't long until she broke the kiss they were sharing and held his face between her hands. She drew a breath, and looked him straight in the eye.

"Don't you dare take me where you won't follow, John." It would have made him smile if she didn't make it sound like such a threat. He nodded, and answered.

"Now, then." The words were breathy and hushed, and she nodded in reply. He drew a final circle with his thumb that had her calling out. He pushed in fully, and let himself go. His vision went white and his ears rang; it was as if he had looked at the sun too long and it overwhelmed his senses. He had no idea what he shouted, but it tasted like her name repeated again and again.

They collapsed into one another.

After a few shared breaths, they shifted and embraced each other more comfortably. They stared at each other with utter astonishment at what had just transpired. A smile slowly stole over Abbey's face, and she chewed her lip again. John reached out to touch her cheek, and drew his hand back to twine in her hair. She sighed contentedly and closed her eyes, letting her small smile spread. After a few moments, she turned her face and kissed his palm.

She met his gaze and said softly, "Stay. Don't move." She pulled away quickly, got up, and walked till the firelight barely reached her. He realized what she was doing, and turned, finding something to clean himself as well.

Then he waited, his arm bent at the elbow behind his head as a pillow. His heart was still racing, but his mind was oddly calm. He stared quietly at the ceiling of the cave until he heard her light footsteps.

Once beside him again, she laid her cheek against his bare chest. He used a long arm to find the rolled blanket to cover them, and then wrapped his arm around her. She purred a little and rubbed her cheek against his skin. They remained in comfortable silence for a long while, listening to each other breathe.

He began to break the silence, murmuring, "Perfect. That was…."

But she shushed him and placed a quieting finger against his lips. They both smiled at each other.

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They made love three more times that night. Once in a fashion he had never dreamed of. Entering her from behind as they both knelt upright, her back stretched flush against his chest and an arm wound around his neck. He kissed her lips whenever offered, and pushed his mouth against her neck and ear, with a view of her whole body from over her shoulder. Never had he let himself go with a woman the way he did that night. Yet, he felt strangely safe, like a storm that he hadn't known was raging inside him had finally subsided.

The predawn light woke him from a peaceful, dreamless sleep. He awoke before she did and used the time to examine her.

In sleep, her features revealed her youth. Waking, she always had a world-weary glint in her eye and her girlishness only surfaced on occasion. But as she slept, and took deep steady breaths, the serene look on her face showed only the short 19 years she had been in this life and not the weight of all the experience those years carried. She was still a child, he thought, though the notion did not make him as sad as it should have.

The sunlight grew stronger, and he shifted a bit to support his head and gazed out at the horizon. He watched the first bit of rising sun finally break over the land and inhaled the pure, wild air of dawn. His thoughts were still fuzzy, but he allowed himself to revel in the tiny heat source curled next to him, allowed himself to notice the faint hint of her scent as it stole around him. He smiled out at the sun, the smile of a man fully satiated and content to his core. He knew that truly blissful moments were rare in the life he led, and knew he had to appreciate them when they did present themselves. John made a conscious decision to commit this moment to permanent memory, and closed his eyes as the first rays of sun met with the surrounding granite.

When he looked at Abbey again, her sleepy brown eyes were half open and fixed on him. He had no idea how long she had been watching him. Her expression was momentarily somber, but once their eyes met, a warm and knowing smile crept across her face. He returned the smile, and they remained that way for a while, holding each other within the gaze.

Finally, he stooped his head a bit and dropped a gentle kiss on her lips. He savored her softness for a bit, before deepening the gesture and letting her taste take full hold of his senses. Then, he pulled his lips back, but kept his nose near hers and left his eyes closed.

"Good morning" he whispered, almost inaudibly.

"Hmmmm, yes it is."

They pulled away to look at each other. Then, as if by unspoken plan, they both turned toward the sun. They watched together, safe in their mutual embrace, as the sun steadily rose and finally broke free of the horizon entirely and the day was upon them.