Okay, so I'd pretty much planned this as a oneshot, but given the response I've gotten, I've decided to continue it. Just let me know if you get sick of it.

**WARNING** This chapter contains sexual situations and future chapters will most likely contain scenes of a very graphic sexual nature. You have been warned.

Chapter 2

Dexter woke up slumped on his couch with Deb curled up in his lap, still asleep with her cheek against his chest. His gaze trailed around the demolished room, settling on the coffee table where all of his deepest, darkest secrets lay in the open. Exposed.

And Deb… It seemed impossible to believe that she had truly learned his secret, but she had. And she'd fallen asleep in his arms. She hadn't arrested him. Or shot him. Either had seemed a rather likely possibility to him when he'd admitted to being a serial killer.

She'd reacted emotionally of course. She was Deborah. She was a creature of emotion; just the opposite of him. Her entire world seemed to revolve around her emotions. And now she had to cope with his secret. He sighed unhappily. He hadn't wanted that. Disregarding what it meant to him, he'd never wanted it for her. It wasn't fair that she had to share his burden.

Dexter had thought he was going to lose it when Deb had looked at him with fear, as though he might hurt her. He had killed his brother to protect her. He would kill anyone to protect his sister. Anyone.

He realized that he'd tightened his arms around her possessively when she moaned softly and began to wake.

He felt a spike of fear as she stirred. He had no idea what she might do when she woke and remembered the previous night as he had. He all but held his breath as he watched her and waited for her to remember. To pull away from him. To look at him with accusation, fear, hatred… maybe all of those.

He knew when she was really awake, because she froze, her face turned down, away from his searching gaze.

After an agonizingly long moment, she drew away from him just a little, one hand resting flat against his chest, just over his heart. She lifted her head until their eyes met.

He struggled to interpret her expression, but found that he couldn't. He'd never been good at reading emotions – not even Deb's – but this one seemed even more confusing than usual.

"Dex," she whispered softly, her hand sliding up his chest, over his collarbone, and coming to rest on his neck.

Dexter swallowed hard, uncomfortable with her closeness. Deb had never touched him like this before. Harry would kill him if he knew what her touch was stirring in him.

"Deb," he said uneasily, searching for the right thing to say. "Are you okay?" he asked, knowing that it wasn't right but unable to come up with anything better.

She frowned slightly and her eyes fell to study his mouth, which in no way helped him to think clearly.

Deb shot a quick glance toward the table covered in damning evidence, then looked at him again. "No," she said quietly. "I'm not even close to okay, Dex. How the fuck can you even ask me that?"

Dexter winced. He'd known that that was the wrong thing to say. Despite her words though, she wasn't yelling at him, or even moving away. Her tone was quiet and her thumb was lightly stroking the line of his jaw. He swallowed convulsively and reminded himself sternly that she was his sister. He couldn't think of her like that. She was just stressed out. That must have been the reason. No doubt anyone else would know exactly why she was acting like this.

"Um, do you want to… You know… Ask me something?" he offered hesitantly, certain that he was going to say something wrong again.

Her frown deepened in response. "No," she said very quietly. "But I need to tell you something."

"Okay," he said, his voice quiet as well. He was afraid of startling her. He may not know anything about emotions, but he knew predator and prey very well. Right now, she looked like frightened prey that may flee at any moment.

"Dex," she began hesitantly, her eyes boring into his like she was trying to look right through them into his brain. "There was a reason that I came to the church. I wanted to talk to you about…" She stopped abruptly, grimaced, and looked maybe a little lost. "Shit… I mean, I wanted to tell you that…" she stepped again and turned her gaze away from him to look around the room.

She stared at the coffee table for a long moment. "What the fuck…?" she murmured under her breath. "Damnit, Dex, what I'm trying to say is…"

She looked at him again and grimaced like she might have been in physical pain. Her eyes strayed back to his lips and her face slowly began to clear.

Just when he thought she was going to speak again, she abruptly leaned forward, closing the few inches between them, and crushed her lips into his.

Dexter froze, stunned. He couldn't understand what she was doing. He was certain that he must be misunderstanding this, though he couldn't imagine what other explanation there might be. Maybe she'd slipped? Maybe she'd meant to headbutt him?

Afraid of doing the absolute wrong thing, he didn't move a single muscle.

Then Deb pulled away from him as quickly as she'd advanced, staring at him like she was afraid he was going to attack her or something.

"I… Fuck, that was fucking stupid!" she cursed herself savagely. Then she seemed to notice that she was still sitting practically in his lap and she started to lurch away from him.

And it hit him. He hadn't read that wrong. She had absolutely just kissed him.

He reached out with violent speed, caught her wrist, and yanked her back down. His free hand tangled in her hair and his mouth enveloped hers.

She reacted almost instantly, stabbing her tongue into his mouth while she moved lithely to straddle him. Her arms curled around his neck, catching him and holding him to her.

Her hips ground into his lap and his body reacted with enthusiasm.

Deb leaned away from him just a little and her hands snaked under his shirt.

"Dexter, what are you doing?!" Harry's voice thundered through the room, bringing Dexter back to his senses.

What was he doing? This was Deb! It didn't make sense that this was happening. She must have been reacting to the trauma of learning the truth about him. He couldn't take advantage of her. And what would happen when she came to her senses? Would he lose her forever?

His hands closed around her chest under her arms and he all but threw her off him, stumbling to his feet while Deb bounced onto the couch next to where they'd been together.

She stared at him with shock that must have matched his own.

Silence reigned in the room for a long time, then Harrison's voice came from the back of the apartment.

"Daddy!"

Relieved beyond belief for the excuse, Dexter turned away from his sister and hurried to see to his son.

**More to come soon!