This is a pressie for all the Carter fans (even if I'm not a proper one myself) thought you might want a break from all the recent stress.

We're Only Making Noises

She rolled over, taking her cocoon of covers with her, only to be met with more empty space than she had expected. She automatically reaches out and her fingers trace the cool smoothness of the cotton beneath her. It was suddenly clear that she had been alone for a long time.

A groan escaped her lips without permission. She was naïve to even momentarily believe that she would not wake up alone. Her mouth felt unnaturally dry as she swallowed against the sudden waves of nausea. She was certain that as soon as she moved again her head would explode into spectacular starbursts of pain.

She had drunk too much. Again. She doubted it was a habit she would ever be strong enough to break.

And then all she wanted to do was go to back to sleep and pretend that she did not ache in every sense of the word but she already knew sleep would be evasive now. Sunlight filtered through a small gap between her drawn curtains only she was never sure she'd like what she saw in the harsh light of day.

With her eyes screwed tightly shut she rolled over and buried her face into the softness of her pillows and willed it all away a little longer. The sound of the door opening was a strange but gentle interruption of the silence. Then there were steady feet padding around her room. She couldn't move, did not think it ever could be real.

"I know you are in the land of the living, sleepy head." A dip in the mattress by her hip and familiar gentle tones cause a spontaneous smile to grace her lips as she instinctively rolled towards the new source of warmth.

"Hmmm. I thought you left." She hummed as she spoke, rubbing the sleep away from her tired eyes.

"Then you are an idiot." She feels his fingers rub circles on her thigh through the barrier of the covers. She knows that she has every right to expect the worse after he had pushed her away so often. And yet the playful insult was just that, somehow all the bitterness and regret just evaporated into something less painful. She wondered if he understood the full extent of the effect he had on her.

She wriggled a little and winced at a sudden surge of lightening like pain behind her eyes. With her shoulders resting against the headboard she could observe him clearly.

"So you stayed just to call me names?" It's the same messy hair, dark eyes sparkling with hidden depths and lightly tanned skin. The stubble was a little thicker than she remembered seeing for a while and was struck by how ruffled and lazy he looked.

Comfortable, he looked comfortable.

"Nah not just that." He grins at her and she rolls her eyes just because it is what they do. "I brought medicine for what has to be one hell of a hang over."

There are little white pills in his open palm and a tall glass of cold water on her bedside table. The tension she did not realise she held slowly released from every muscle as she took the pain killers. Relief caught and swelled in her heart and her pain seemed to relent almost instantly but mostly she liked him taking care of her. Knowing he had not left her just like all the other times, somehow she was still able to believe that this one would be forever.

"Besides I can always call you names you moody cow." He chuckles softly and pokes her side until she shoos his hand away. It does not stay away for long and soon he is stroking the soft waves of her hair. She finds herself looking up at him expectedly.

"Talk about literally drinking everyone under the table. Although you were no match for me and my orange juice. The only way I could stop you pouring it down ya throat was putting my lips in the way." And then his expression became serious and soft and he almost looked concerned.

"You can stop worrying you know. I'm not going anywhere this time. I meant every word I said last night."

He curled a section of her hair around a finger.

"I know you think it won't be easy but you should at least be sure in that."

She's quiet for a long moment remembering the previous night, how he turned up out of the blue and said everything she'd wanted to hear and more. She remembered giving in to his tender kisses and electric touch and thinking that even if he would be gone in the morning just one night together would be worth any new pain.

But he had stayed. It was strange and wonderful and she thinks that this time she might be able to believe him.

"What are you thinking?" He asks and she knows him well enough to hear the slight catch of trepidation there.

"That I think I could be happy. I mean I feel like crap but I think you could make me happy." It's something she never thought she would say let alone feel. She did not need a man to live through like some insecure little girl but she just knew they could both find happiness together.

He grins widely in response, eyes wrinkling a little in the corners. As his hand moves to cup her cheek she closes her eyes and losses a little part of herself in the texture of his lips against hers. He smells like fresh smoke and aftershave, things she hates on other men and yet they are part of him. She felt love and need as he deepened the kiss, felt him return everything the bubbled inside of her.

Eventually they pull apart, foreheads touching and a little out of breath.

"Ugh, morning breath. Go brush your teeth so I can do that again." He teased gently. She slapped him just hard enough that it would sting slightly even though she did not bother to disguise her giggles.

She rolled away from him and stretched the hum of contentment stronger than any hangover.

"I love you Carla Connor. Have I ever told you that?" He says the words in a casual way as if they don't cost him anything. To her surprise the world does not end as they escape into the room. And yet they mean more than any of his grand verbal gestures. She thinks he might really means this.

Her face freezes and then she bites down upon her bottom lip so that her growing smile can not split her face in two. Then after a while she masters her own version of his mock indifference as she rolls over to prop herself up on an elbow.

"Not in so many words, baby. But I think I'm getting the idea."