A/N: Kerry and Kim. Its short, I know. Maybe more to come if you guys think its worth more chapters. As always, constructive criticism is very much appreciated. Thanks for reading.
Kim's P.O.V
"Can't we just stay here forever and never go to work?" I murmur into the red hair, deriving a wordless shrug from the shoulders of the head it lays upon. "Let me rephrase that: I don't want you to work tonight..."
Though the back of her head is tucked under the crook of my chin, I know she's grinning.
"You have me all day…all to yourself." I sigh contentedly. I know I do.
We've been awake- though neither of us verbally acknowledged the other's alertness for some time- for what must be pushing two hours, lying in bed, listening to the rain pound against the windows. My left index finger is aimlessly tracing the faint, pink scar on her hip; up and down, up and down. I wish I'd been there for her. I'm sure she was strong through it; of course she was strong through it- at least exteriorly. She doesn't talk much about it; then again, I don't know why she would; a moment of weakness is hardly something Kerry Weaver nonchalantly discusses.
"I'll be home in the morning…" It's eleven in the morning; Kerry's working graveyard again tonight and I have the day off.
My finger continues to trace the mark etched into her skin as our diaphragms work in tandem. It's silent inside albeit the rain continues to fall outside; Kerry, though with great reluctance, agreed to have Henry go to preschool for part of the day; we have the house to ourselves.
She'd gotten up later than normal and brought Henry to preschool all before I'd even batted an eyelid in awakenings; when I did wake up, she was back in bed next to me. I could tell she'd been out in the cold of March when she laced her icy fingers through mine. I didn't react, pretending to be asleep. Believing I was- or maybe she was only playing along-, Kerry gradually inched towards me until her warm back was curled into the arc of my curved torso. Her breathing evened, regulating mine in the process. She does that to me. She has a way of slowing my mind, calming my thoughts, relaxing my being. I always thought that was my job, no matter who it was; I read people, I know what they want, sometimes, before they do. That's how it was the first time with us; I knew Kerry wanted me in a way that was far beyond friendship much sooner than the thought, she says, even crossed her mind. I don't know if I believe that. Kerry, though fairly gullible, is not a dim person; she, most of the time, is well aware what she wants. Not that it much matters anymore. Now, we both know what we want.
I lean my face closer to her head.
No.
My lips meet her soft hair with ease.
We both have what we want.