A/N: Another Valentine's Day is here, and with canon being so glum and heartbreaking, I present to you: FANON. Where everything is nice and fluffy. Happy Valentine's Day!

I want to thank Alejandra for helping me get inspired for the first part of this fic.


There is something about this place, she thinks, that makes her feel so carefree and light-hearted. It could be due to the fact that she doesn't even know where her phone is currently located, or the fact they don't have to be anywhere today, or the fact they're alone in the middle of nowhere and Jay is currently still sleeping in this soft bed with white sheets, and the noon light is pouring in through the roof window. She feels happy. Unconditionally happy.

At some point she even stopped waiting for something bad to happen, and just decided to enjoy what they have.

His little snore catches her attention, and she chuckles into her hand. He looks so cute and handsome—her big strong man all tousled hair and open mouth. Her heart swells with love for him, for this place, for what they have together. For the peace he helped her find. She realizes this is how she wants to remember him, sleepy, carefree, and relaxed. This is the side of him she doesn't get all that often, with the everyday worries and demons from the past dragging them both down.

But they're here now, away from criminals need to be caught, away from her crazy mother, and Hank looking over their shoulder.

Reaching for his phone, she checks the time and pulls on his button-down that's lying on the floor, where they tossed it last night when they undressed in a hurry. She grins at the memory, not bothering with buttons, so she might as well be naked, as she kneels on the bed, trying to get a good angle with his phone camera. His eyes flutter open when he feels the weight shift on the bed, and he smiles when he realizes what she's doing.

"You better not be trying to sell these," he murmurs, his voice still laced with sleep, and his lips spreading into a warm smile—the kind that is reserved only for her. For some reason it takes them longer to wake up in Wisconsin. As if sleep were pulling them back to its embrace. Even the usually bright and early Jay turns over on the pillow, stealing a couple of more seconds. His hand sneaks up her legs, caressing the soft skin of her thighs.

"Though I would get a great price for them," she replies with a chuckle, "nobody gets to see this, but me." Her eyes travel up and down his bare chest, swallowing hard at the sight of taut muscles.

"Right back at you," he replies, his voice husky and low all of the sudden, and with a good reason. She is still on her knees on the bed, hovering over his legs. His shirt has slid down her shoulder on one side, and she doesn't really care about it, as they're the only people here. There is a sense of comfort between them—intimacy that only comes as a consequence of being with someone who truly knows and accepts you.

Despite not being quite awake yet, the sight of her wakes certain other parts of him, and he groans when he feels himself rising at the mere glance of how her breasts are peaking out from under the fabric. Her hardened nipples are a clear sign that he's not the only one wanting. She bites her lip, her eyes glancing down at the bulge under the cover. Her brow raises, and she smirks, loving to know what kind of impact she has on him.

Knowing what it would do to him, she slips her hand between her bare legs. She lets her mouth part, letting out a soft moan when she rubs herself for him.

"God, Erin. You're killing me," he groans, as he follows her lead by slipping his hand beneath the cover to provide the friction he so desperately needs. The friction she makes him need.

Her other hand is still holding the phone, and she snaps another picture, before putting his phone down, so her free hand can cup her breast.

"You're so gorgeous. You're better than any fantasy I could ever have." He could never explain to her how breath-taking she looks in that moment, but it doesn't stop him from trying.

She speeds up her fingers on her clit, her head falling back slightly as she gets lost in the feeling of pleasure. Then she opens her eyes and focuses on him, on his hand there moving up and down.

"I'm so wet for you," she whispers in return, her voice dripping with lust. She wants him to know that he does it to her as well, just the way she does it for him. And there is nobody else in the world she would let see her like this—vulnerable, exposed. But this is Jay. The man that loves her more than anything in the world.

And the sole look in his eyes is enough to make her entire body tingle with want. She loves this. That he doesn't even have to touch her to get her feeling all hot and bothered.

Her breathing intensifies, and he reaches for her leg to help her, but she shakes her head at him. "Just look at me," she whispers, as they both speed up. His pleasure fuels her pleasure and vice versa, but at some point, he knows the way he needs this to end, and it's inside of her.

He pulls her on top of him. His voice is low and gravelly in her ear, as he whispers he's had enough of not touching. She grins and gladly obeys, kicking the covers aside with a chuckle. He laughs at her desperation, but helps her, so nothing stands in their way anymore. His hand replaces hers on her breast, teasing her with light caresses, as she positions herself against him, but doesn't lower yet, brushing his head against her clit to prolong the moment.

Then she slides down on him, letting out a moan in the process. It never ceases to amaze her how whole it makes her feel. How complete she is when he's buried deep inside of her.

She sets a slow pace, almost lazy, because otherwise it would be over before it even began. His hands roam her body, lingering at her hips before sliding down her legs, leaving a trail of goose bumps everywhere he touches.

He allows her to torture him with this pace for a while, before he flips them, pinning her arms above her head. Then, with a wicked grin, he drives into her with reckless abandon, fastening the pace with which he leads her to the cliff, and then, with a single thrust, pushes her over.

She throws her head back into the pillow, colours exploding in her head as she arches her whole body to prolong her orgasm. He joins her, muttering something incomprehensible into her ear, before collapsing on top of her, burying his face in her chest. His fingers lace through his hair, as she caresses the back of his head.

This is it, he thinks. This moment right now, is the thing that sets them apart from their past relationships. This feeling of tenderness and vulnerability is what makes the sex so much better.

"Am I crushing you?" He mumbles, when he regains some brain function.

"Yeah, but in the best way possible." She loves his weight on top of her—the feeling of his body so close it can't possibly be closer. Pressing a soft kiss again his damp skin, she finally lets out the three words she's been holding in since he woke up looking so adorable. "I love you."

He lifts his head, and the way in which he looks at her is equally painful and beautiful. Like over and over he is surprised to hear it, as if he didn't yet know it. Like it's the best thing she could ever say to him. "I love you, too."

And in her heart, she knows that the way he looks at her—so surprised and amazed—must be the same way she looks at him every time he utters it. Because no amount of time will ever make her take it for granted. No amount of time will take away the ultimate shock that universe gave her Jay—and let her keep him.

The longer she loves him, the more she realizes that before Jay, she was in the dark. She didn't know it, but it was dark, or at the very least dim. And she fumbled around. But it seemed normal to her, it was the way it has always been. But then he appeared, lighting up her world with bright colours.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks, after she cuddles against him, when he finally rolls off.

"How you're my light," she replies honestly, at the risk of sounding cheesy. Drawing in a breath, she settles her head on his chest, which has proven to be the only pillow she really needs over time.

He could make a joke about it, she thinks, but instead, he just lifts his head to look at her for a moment, both of them a little choked up. But he has long ago realized that here, so far away from their everyday life, feelings are easier to share, and words come more naturally. It's why they keep making these getaways to his cabin.

"My life would be pretty dark without you too." Too dark to even imagine, he thinks as he kisses the top of her head. "Now, how about some breakfast for my light?"

"How about a shower first?" It's not even phrased as a question. She slowly gets up, darting to the bathroom completely naked, adding some sway into her hips as she walks. But of course, she doesn't even need to ask him.

Because the answer is already written all over his face.


She slips on her leggings and an oversized sweater before heading downstairs. He's already started, and she lets out a quip remark about starting without her, which causes him to grin and blush just a little bit. Erin finds that adorable, especially after their recent activities that dragged on well into the afternoon because he couldn't get enough—though let's be fair, neither could she.

As she joins him in the kitchen to help prepare food, her eyes glance at the bottle in the fridge. He has thought of everything, but then again, he is the one with more attention to the details.

"I thought we could go outside later. After lunch." His stomach grumbles, and she laughs.

"You're hungry."

"Well I did four rounds of exercise. Not that I was counting." He smirks. Can I trust you to chop?"

"I'm an excellent chopper."

"Yeah, when you don't chop off your finger," he jokes, remembering the time they ended up at the ER because of her awesome chopping skills.

"That was one time! And I didn't chop it off, I just cut myself." She pouts a little. "Severely," she adds after a pause from him.

"I think I can give you another chance. Just don't chop off your finger, the nearest hospital is not that near," he warns, and she sticks out her tongue at him in return.

They work in comfortable silence, enjoying the way the occasionally bump into each other. They will both miss this when they return to Chicago—the feeling of having all the time in the world. The feeling of proximity, even when they're not kissing or making love, but just being together, sharing space, talking, and having fun.

She sets the table, lighting a couple of candles for the atmosphere, wondering when he managed to infect her with the romanticism.

"Watch out babe, your cheesy is showing." She glances at him, rolling her eyes with affection. He's wearing her Valentine's Day gift, which is a t-shirt that says "If lost return to Erin". She thought it was a cute idea, and had it personalized for him to wear in private (even though Jay claims he's going to wear it to work so everyone can see what a marshmallow she is). She has its pair that says "I'm Erin", but she's too cold for only a t-shirt, so she has pulled a sweater over it. But they know it's there, and that's enough.

It was meant as a joking gift that she completed by gifting him a new jacket. It's a bit much for Valentine's day, but she knows he needs it. It comes with a note "To keep you warm when I'm not around". It's ironic, as he's the one to always keep her warm, because she is always cold. But he smiled bright when he read it, so she doesn't regret unleashing her inner romantic for this year's Valentine's Day. Especially because she forgot about it last year—which she still feels bad about—and he didn't, giving her the most incredible pampering experience, which was just what she needed then.

This year he got her a pair of leather gloves, once again showcasing at how much attention he pays to her and her needs, since she has been complaining about a hole in her old ones for almost two weeks. Granted he heard most of her complaints, since they ride together at work, but she still loves it. The other, more romantic gift, was a lingerie set, and she can't help but grin when she opens the box.

A man that pays attention to her favourite brands. She could kiss him in that moment—and she does—for knowing her so well. It's a gift they can both enjoy later when she puts it on just for him.


"Happy Valentine's Day." She kisses his cheek. "And thank you. Not just for my gift, for this entire trip. I didn't even know I needed it," she tells him later, when they're curled up on the couch watching a movie, or rather the movie is playing as a background to their cuddling. "Somehow you always know what I need before I do."

Smiling at Erin's words, he thinks he never wants that to change. He wants to know everything there is to know about her, and he loves that even after years of knowing each other, he can still learn something new.

"Happy Valentine's Day." He takes her hand and kisses it softly, and with all the love that is threatening to explode inside of him. "I needed it too." It isn't hard for him to admit that he cherishes this time they have together. They don't always make it to the cabin—sometimes they just can't get away from work for that long, but every time they take a breather to be together makes it so much easier to cope with their busy schedules.

"How did you convince Hank to give us both the time off?"

"Oh, I just reminded him you need some spoiling. The man loves you like a daughter, how could he say no?"

Erin laughs, making a mental note to thank Hank when they get back to Chicago.

"I love you," she blurts out casually, aware that she needs to tell him more often.

And really, she doesn't know, when "you and me" turned into "we". She doesn't know when their love became a never changing fact. She doesn't know when the English language became insufficient to describe how much she loves him.

So no, perhaps she can't describe how much she loves him—all the words seeming trite and hollow. And she would get lost listing the million reasons why she loves him. But she knows one thing with clarity—she does love him.

And as indescribable and unmeasurable as it is, as Jay echoes her words, even Erin, who has never been much of a romantic, can find beauty and peace in that.