"Journeyverse, Washington Years - The Morning After" (story 1.1)
This is the first of a planned series of pieces set in the "Journey into Darkness/Ghosts" universe, written to fill in the seven years gap between those two stories. My initial idea was a series of short snippets set in this timeline, each posted as a story chapter, rather than each as an individual fic. That plan changed when the second story (which will be posted soon) grew from a ficlet to 25 pages. Since these stories span seven years, each will be numbered in order, and given an approximate date.
For reference, "Journey into Darkness" takes place between December 86 and February 87. "Ghosts" covers January/February 94.
"The Morning After" takes place hours after the final events of "Journey into Darkness"
As always, I do not own Airwolf – I'm only borrowing the characters for awhile.
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"The Morning After"
February 87
Deep in the twilight world midway between sleep and wakefulness, Caitlin unconsciously edged closer to the warmth behind her. As she moved, something scratched at her thigh, and she squirmed away from the irritation, waking herself in the process.
"Good morning, sleepyhead." His breath grazed her neck.
Opening her eyes to the sunlight streaming through the curtains, she rolled over to find Michael propped on his elbow, smiling at her. He was already wearing his glasses. "How long have you been awake?"
"Not long." He gave a slight shrug. "Half an hour."
Knowing his sleeping habits – or more precisely, his usual insomnia – she suspected that it had been considerably longer. "Why didn't you wake me?"
"No reason to." The smile grew wider. "And after last night, I thought you needed your rest."
She closed her eyes for a moment, letting her thoughts slip back over the previous evening. It had been an incredible night. Both finally acknowledging their feelings for one another, they had made love, slept, made love again. Sometime in the wee hours, Michael had gone to the kitchen and brought back champagne, cheese and fruit. She remembered feeding him grapes, and she twisted, reaching beneath her to retrieve the forgotten stem that was scratching her leg.
Michael was probably right. There was no sense in getting up, there was nowhere that they needed to be, and they both could use the rest. As wonderful as the previous night had been, it had been almost too much. She felt as if all of her bones had dissolved, leaving behind nothing but a quivering bowl of Jello.
He reached out to her, fingers tracing the curve of her breast, but she caught the grimace as he moved. "Don't," she whispered. Caitlin reached out and took his hand in her own. Less than two months earlier, Michael had almost died. He was still a long way from being completely recovered. As exhausted as she was, he had to be even more so. "Don't start something that neither of us is quite up to finishing this morning."
For a moment, she thought he might argue, but instead he settled back into the pillow, his fingers still laced with hers. His thumb stroked the back of her knuckles, brushing the ring she wore. "I'm going to buy you a real ring. A diamond."
His words took her by surprise, and she shook her head. "No, you're not."
Michael pulled his hand from hers and sat up abruptly. He turned away, but not before Caitlin saw the disappointment and embarrassment that flashed across his face. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed..." His voice trailed away.
She realized how he had taken her answer. Damn. Caitlin pushed herself into a sitting position beside him, pulling the sheet up and tucking her feet under her. "Michael?" He didn't answer, and she reached for his chin, gently forcing him to look at her. "Michael, I'm not saying no. It's just that I don't want a diamond. This," she held up her hand, showing it to him, "As far as I'm concerned, this is real. This is the ring I want to wear."
He hiked an eyebrow questioningly. "I told you. It's Cubic Zirconia."
She lowered her hand, eyes catching his, willing him to understand. "I don't care if it's window glass. It's real to me. I've worn it for two months, and it feels right on my finger." Caitlin didn't know how to explain that this was the ring he had given her, the one he had used to claim her as his own on that horrible boat in Cambodia, the same one she had used to gain admittance to his hospital room.
Michael took her hand again, and she watched him as he processed what she had told him. "So, we really are...?" he broke off, as if he were afraid to say the word.
As much as she loved him, it scared her, too. Pushing aside her fears, she smiled back at him. "Yeah, I guess we are. If it's what you want?"
"You're what I want." He stroked her cheek.
Nestled against his side, she tried to maintain some perspective. "I think... I think we need to take it slow. We both need to be absolutely sure."
Pushing away the sheet, he grinned at that. "So I should cancel the private jet that I booked to take us to Vegas?"
Suddenly much less tired, she felt her body respond to him. She chuckled as she rolled onto her back, pulling him down with her. "How about you just keep it on call?"