A/N I wrote this one a couple years ago, but it was in bad need of some editing, so here's the edited version.
It was just the two of them now, Abby thought ironically. She shivered a bit in the cool night air and thought back to a conversation that she'd had with Connor about a year and a half ago.
She'd been in her kitchen, buttering a piece of toast, when Connor had appeared beside her and reached over her shoulder to grab a ripe apple from the counter.
"Abby?" he'd asked casually, with a goofy grin on his face, "Would you date me if I was the last man on earth?"
Abby had laughed at him and pursed her lips together, tilting her head to the side as if debating the answer. Finally after a long hesitation, she'd let out a low, "Hmmm," and shrugged. "I'd have to think about it."
She'd felt bad then when she saw Connor's reaction. Not that he was hurt by her lack of enthusiasm, rather just the opposite. His face had lit up and his grin had widened. She'd seen the hope in his eyes. He was just thrilled to death that she hadn't outright rejected him and she'd cursed at herself silently for not being honest with him. The truth was that she'd rather date him than any of the other 3.5 billion men on earth so it didn't really matter if he was the last man left or not, did it?
Somehow she she hadn't been quite able to make herself admit that to him though, not yet. She'd never had a relationship of any kind that hadn't been sour from the start before, unless you counted her lizard pals. Sometimes it felt like her sole purpose in life was to be a punching bag for other people who needed someone to take out their frustrations on. She'd learned how to fight back physically, but the emotional stuff, well, that had been a losing battle for years now. It was only when Connor had come along and sweet-talked his way into her life that she'd learned what it was like to have someone who was always there for her, someone who cared about her, listened to her, admired her, and was loyal to her: someone who was her best friend.
Somewhere along the line, really quite close to the beginning of the line if she thought about it, she'd fallen in love with him. She'd just been too petrified to admit it; that was all. There were too many 'what ifs' involved. What if it didn't work out? What if things changed? What if it was awkward? What if she lost her best friend?
She knew she could have him if she wanted to; he'd made it clear that he was hers for the taking since the day she'd met him. She also knew that she'd let her fears win over enough, that she'd pushed him away enough, that he'd given up all real hope that she'd ever reciprocate his feelings for her. If only he knew. And so, he clung to little bits of false hope she gave him, like when she didn't totally reject the idea of dating him if he was the last man on earth.
The memory of the conversation had been haunting her vividly more and more often lately, probably because Connor really was the last man on earth now or, more technically, the first man. At any rate, he was most definitely the only man. The fact that they were stuck here in the Cretaceous together didn't really change anything as far as her feelings were concerned, but she knew she had to change the way she behaved towards him. They'd been here for nearly five months now, and Connor was changing.
It wasn't just the physical changes that resulted from spending every living moment outdoors hunting and fighting for survival. Connor had become, well, distant. He'd stopped talking to her as much, just sitting quietly for hours on end, lost in thought. She knew the expression on his face; she'd experienced the feeling countless times in her own life. Connor was depressed. It'd been ages since she'd seen that goofy grin of his and his eyes light up. It'd been longer since he'd hinted at his feelings for her or offered to huddle with her to keep her warm. She'd refused too often. It wasn't just her refusal per se that was bothering him; she knew that too.
It was the fact that she was still pushing him away when they were the last two people on earth. They didn't know if they'd ever see another human again, ever. Abby had grown up without love, but Connor hadn't. He'd come from a loving family and had a lot of friends growing up and, even if they had all been geeks, they'd formed bonds, real relationships. Connor was used to having people around that praised his work and told him they enjoyed his company and now there was no one to do that anymore. He wasn't adjusting to the idea that no one cared about him well.
Abby realised that if she wanted her chipper pal back, it was time to change her own attitude. She had to learn to express her emotions, to show him that she cared, even if that meant things might change between them.
She sighed and scooped up a loose rock from the ground. The round stone fit perfectly in her palm and she turned it over a few times before tightly clasping her hand around it. For some reason the motion comforted her. "Well," she told herself silently, "if you're gonna do something, there's no time like the present." She smiled at the irony. Maybe in her case there was no time like the past.
She stood up and brushed off her jacket, even though she knew she could never get all the ground in dirt off of it, and let the stone in her hand fall to the ground. Connor was laying on his back in the grass a few metres off, staring up at the bright constellations.
"Connor," Abby said softly as she approached and waited for him to react to her presence.
He did so, slowly, as Abby placed herself cross-legged in the damp grass beside him. Connor sat up and matched her position. "What is it, Abs?"
"I just wanted to tell you, I'm glad it's you."
Connor looked puzzled and she couldn't blame him; she really wasn't very good at this kind of stuff. "What's me, Abby?"
She smiled at him, gently, "That I'm stuck here with. If I'd gotten to choose, from anybody, who I'd be stuck with, I'd still pick you."
Connor looked surprised, not so much that she'd have picked him, Abby decided, but that she was telling him this now. He smiled back at her and then looked quickly down at the grass in front of him, picking a few of the blades from the ground. "Yeah," he agreed, mumbling at the earth in front of him, "I'd have picked you too."
Abby nodded, even though he wasn't looking her way. "Yeah," she whispered, "I know. Connor, if we don't ever get back…"
"We will." Connor interrupted her, firmly, jerking his head back up to meet her eyes, "We will."
Abby wasn't as sure as Connor about that, but she nodded a second time, "I know we will, I just wanted to say that, if we didn't, well, it wouldn't matter too much to me. I could get used to this, I think. It's just like camping, yeah? I'd be okay, and I'd be okay because you're here. I don't need anyone else. If it wasn't you though, if I was faced with the prospect that I wouldn't see you again, well, I'd probably have been dead by now. I would've given up, yeah? Let a dinosaur eat me or something. Wouldn't have mattered if I lost you."
"Abby, don't talk like that," Connor told her. She knew her words had pleased him, just a tiny bit, the light in his eyes had flickered back for a just split second as she'd told him, but he didn't like to hear her speak of giving up or dying.
"Okay, Connor," she said, "I just wanted you to know, that's all."
She shivered a bit, partly from emotions and mostly from the cold, and he draped his coat over her shoulders. She hadn't even seen him remove it for her. He always gave her his coat. She refused to huddle with him, so he offered her the jacket to make sure she stayed warm anyway. She felt bad about that too.
This time she scooted over closer to him, close enough that her thigh pressed against his, and she leaned back against his chest. "Connor, it's cold. Huddle with me."
Both his arms came around her, pulling her close. Abby sighed happily as she found her self enveloped in the red hooded sweatshirt he was wearing. They sat in silence for a bit until Connor suddenly said, "I'm sorry, Abby."
Abby tilted her face upwards to look at his. "For what?"
"I should have figured out the artefact sooner. I should have listened to my gut feeling instead of Lester and never given it to Helen. I failed Cutter, and I've failed you."
Abby stared in surprise. Connor blamed himself for this? "It's not your fault," she told him firmly. "It's Helen's, and Helen's only."
She saw a look of relief cross his face, relief that she didn't blame him like he blamed himself. Suddenly the goofy grin reappeared on his face, the one she'd been missing for ages now. "Abby, I've been thinking…"
"About what?"
"Remember a long time ago you said you'd think about dating me if I was the last man on earth? Well, what if I was the first one?"
Abby gasped a bit, surprised that he'd been reliving the same silly memory she had been. It had been nothing more than a simple playful conversation at the time, but it seemed relevant now and she supposed that's why it'd come to his mind too.
Connor was watching her, carefully, waiting for an answer. She met his eyes and saw that he fully expected to be shot down with a sarcastic comment. She saw that he'd be okay with that even, because it meant that things were normal. It was routine for them and he would take it. He figured he'd already used up his luck in the fact that she was still leaning against him, huddled in his embrace.
Suddenly, as Abby stared into those eyes that she'd learned to read so easily, Abby's head cleared and she realised how easy it really was to just accept his love for her, and hers for him. She shuffled a bit so that she was kneeling, still in his embrace, and placed a hand on other side of his face, leaning in to kiss him gently. She heard Connor catch his breath in surprise. It took him a few long seconds, but then he returned this kiss, tentatively.
Abby pulled away a few moments later, but pressed her forehead against his, "Connor, I'd date you even if we were still at home and I was surrounded by eligible young men who wanted to go out with me."
Connor's eyes lit up, barely an inch from hers as she gazed deep into them. Abby loved Connor's eyes, they were warm, rich, friendly. She saw the hope in them, real hope, delighted hope. "Then you'll be my girlfriend?"
Abby nodded, laughing, "Of course, Connor."
"Even if we get back home, you'll still be my girlfriend?" he pressed.
Abby nodded, but corrected him, "When, Connor, when we get back home I'll still be your girlfriend."
"Yeah," Connor nodded, "When. But if you're my girlfriend, it matters less, yeah? Can't be lonely if we're together."
Abby shook her head, "No, I'm not lonely, haven't been lonely since you moved into my flat and being here or there doesn't make a difference since I've still got you."
Connor didn't say anything, but Abby saw the question in his eyes. He was asking permission and she granted it by nodding. She let him lean in first this time, let him capture her lips, and she smiled against them when he did, counting herself lucky that the last man on earth was such a brilliant kisser.