Disclaimer: Don't own and not getting paid. Please, don't sue.


1. The Boss

The shift in…whatever you might call what Fray shares with Matt, starts after they rescue Shaundi. The fact that those two don't get along might be the understatement of the century, though most of the disdain comes from Shaundi's end. The ire that her friend throws the MI6 Agent's way almost makes all of Kinzie's glaring seem amiable.

For the most part, Fray takes the stance that she usually does when members of her crew aren't meshing; she stays right the hell out of it. It's even more important to do that now because for one, Matt is really good in bed and Fray treasures her orgasms, and for two, Shaundi is her sister. Of course, though, it all comes to a boiling point she can't ignore, because that is just what an incredibly lucky girl she is.

It's just after jumping out of the simulation and getting a shower. She's in the cargo bay with Matt, reading off of a Kindle (why and how the Zin had this shit on their ship is anyone's guess) and while he types away. His legs are over her lap and it's…nice. Quiet. Good.

Then Shaundi comes in.

"Why in the actual fuck are you going after King before Pierce?" the other woman demands.

Fray glances up from the e-copy of Frankenstein, cocking an eyebrow at the scowl on Shaundi's face. She sighs and sets the Kindle aside. Matt moves his legs, instinctively pulling them up under him away from Shaundi's narrowed eyes.

"Because I need strategy more than PR right now?" she says. "What are you mad about? I'm grabbing Pierce right after."

This does nothing to appease Shaundi. "Okay. And why can't it be King that you grab right after?"

"Why does it matter to you?" Shaundi has had more moments of almost strangling Pierce than anyone else in the Saints, Fray included.

Shaundi's lip curls in a sneer that actually kind of bites at Fray. They snark at one another, sure, but in all the years that she and Shaundi have been friends, things have never gotten malicious. Then Shaundi looks from Fray to Matt before looking back and snorting.

"Never mind." And she spins on the heel of her suit, marching right back out.

Anger bubbles in Fray's chest and before she even knows what she's doing, she's storming after her.

"Hey!" she calls at Shaundi's back. The other woman doesn't stop. "Shaundi, I am not fucking around." It's been years since Fray used The Voice on her friend. The one that promised enemy bangers that she was going to curb-stomp them into obedience. The one that her lieutenants, even Johnny, knew better than to ignore. It still works. Shaundi halts mid-step, tensing before slowly turning to face Fray. She looks less than thrilled but the sneer has been wiped away.

With the continuous stream of bullshit that's happened since the press-conference-that-never-was, Fray has been getting, well frayed. She'll let a lot pass because she loves Shaundi and she knows Shaundi loves her, knows that they'd take bullets for each other, and walk through hell for one another. Still, shit has been rough and her limit with being dumped on is near to broke.

"You wanna tell me what your fucking problem is?" Not a request and they both know it. This will not be a pretty exchange (as if it were already).

Shaundi's fists clench then unclench. She looks nervous but still she sticks her chin out and speaks. "Other than you putting people who've gotten shot for you on the backburner, you mean?"

"You know, last time I checked, Ben has done plenty to prove himself," Fray counters. "And I did work with him before I even knew you or Pierce, if we're really gonna dig for reasons. Which I shouldn't even have to do."

"It's not about Ben." Kinzie's ability to fade into the background is uncanny. The little redhead doesn't look up from her laptop but she does shift around in the weird giant pouf she's claimed beneath the frontward staircase. "It's about Matt."

"Okay, what?" Fray looks back to Shaundi. Shaundi looks right back at her. "Jesus Christ, are you kidding me? You're mad because I grabbed Matt first?"

"No, Ass, I'm mad because you grabbed one of the people responsible for the death of our best friend, first!" Shaundi snaps. There's a fire in her eyes that Fray hasn't witnessed since they went after Loren. "Not only that but, apparently, he's part of our crew now? Bullshit."

"That's what's up your ass right now? You didn't act like this when Viola came to us." Not to Fray, anyway. Viola on the other hand...it was an unspoken thing for Viola to stay out of Shaundi's way. Nothing ever escalated to the point that Fray had to say something.

"Viola defected to us and never stepped out of line," Shaundi says. "She proved herself. Matt tried to kill us a couple more times, then ran with his tail between his legs. It's one thing to work with him while he's on MI6's leash, Fray; it's another to date the motherfucker."

The last words catch Fray like a sucker punch. No joke, they physically stun her. She's not sure what it is, Shaundi's accusation or the utter lack of respect in her voice. It's probably both.

"I am not dating, Matt Miller." The response is automatic but it doesn't feel organic to Fray's tongue. She pushes that down.

The sneer returns. "No, you're playing house with him."

There are very few rules that Fray has. A big one: Don't hit the people you love with the intent to do real damage. Fray almost denies that rule and Shaundi feels it. The other woman pales but does not backpedal, waiting for the jaw-breaking punch to come.

"Fuck you, you don't know dick," Fray says instead. Shaundi winces as if it were a punch. Fray is using The Voice again and it is lethal. "Go clean up the bathroom. If you wanna act like a shit you can stay in there."

A jerky nod and Shaundi is walking away. Watching her go, Fray is gripped by the fear that she may have just lost the one best friend she had left. They've had fights, Shaundi and she, big ones too. Fights where shots got fired into the ceiling, fights where shampoo was replaced with bleaching gel, and fights where drug warehouses were set aflame as they shrieked at one another. Nothing before this, though, has left Fray feeling hollow.

It gets even better because, when Fray finally starts breathing again, she catches sight of Matt. He's leaning against the kitchen dividing wall. His eyes meet hers and he looks…disappointed? Maybe hurt? She can't get a good fix because he turns and goes back into the cargo bay.

That thing behind her ribs squirms but Fray doesn't go after him. Instead, she returns to Simulation and rips apart a couple of Wardens.

2. Matt

When Matt meets Fray in the simulation to see about pulling Asha, things are tense, to say the least. It's been three days since they've last spoken. Actually, it's been three days since they've so much as seen one another; a miracle considering the size of the ship. He's already exhausted from overclocking it and when he finally sees Fray, he gets to be angry and conflicted on top of that.

He's angry because, well, she's a sociopath without feelings and he's an idiot for not remembering it. He's conflicted because there's a part of him that knows it isn't that simple and is unable to deny the sadness that slips through her eyes when they first find him. Matt is also conflicted because she's wearing those goddamn short-shorts with that torn half-shirt and seeing all that skin only serves to remind him that it's been four days since they had sex. Or kissed. Or even genially brushed fingertips.

"You'll need to be extra careful," he warns her as they make their way to the Broken Shillelagh. "Asha's mental fortitude isn't like anyone else's. Finding her was by far the easiest bit."

She's doing her best to only barely acknowledge him, which stings more than Matt will ever admit. "Whatever. I broke everyone out except for Kinzie and Keith, it'll be fine."

He tries to be patient, really he does. Why, he can't say, he doesn't want to, but he does. God, he'd do just about anything to get her to look at him for five bloody seconds. "Look, Asha Odekar isn't everyone else. She's built up resistances to having her head buggered with, went through years and years of training specifically for this sort of torture. You're daft if you think that this is going to be a cakewalk."

Waving a hand dismissively at him, Fray rolls her eyes. "I just think you're really building this up." Her tone is joking, her face is bored, irritated.

Jealous?

That last thing registers just as he says, "And I think you're drastically underestimating how dangerous the mind of a super spy can be."

"Superspy?" Fray's eyebrows draw downward and her upper lip curls as she turns to face him. Scorn isn't something she wears well, especially when it's just a patina over what he just saw. "Jesus, Matt, I get that you wanna fuck her but you don't have to build her a goddamn pedestal."

He doesn't know how to respond to that kind of accusation. Asha is a beautiful woman and all, but Matt sees their relationship as familial more than anything else and knows she's of a similar mind. He so surprised that something between his mouth and his brain shorts out and what comes out is perhaps the most illogical thing he's ever said.

"That is beside the point."

The only hint that Matt gets to say that Fray really doesn't feel so flippantly about this anymore is the way that her eyes widen. It's brief, he almost doesn't catch it, but it's there and he knows that snide remark has been taken the wrong way.

Not like it couldn't be. Idiot.

Before he can even think about retracting his words, though, Fray is walking into the portal. "Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Catch you later, Matt."

She's gone before he can so much as twitch. He stares at the portal for a few moments, seriously entertaining the idea to go after her, but cold logic stops him. Bickering aside, he hadn't been kidding about Asha; her head is a deadly place. If anyone can get through it, though, Fray can.

Matt makes it back onto the ship in good time, five, minutes at the most (bless super powers), right in time to hear Fray complain, "Shit, we're not vampires in this world, are we?"

Kinzie is alone on the bridge, thank heaven. It is so very strange to feel that kind of relief but given how Shaundi terrifies him, Ben and David are too high above him and Pierce is…Pierce, that's what Matt's got.

The former FBI agent/Press Secretary smirks over at him. "She was not happy about the face."

He winces. "She didn't get any sort of a kick?"

"Nope."

Fantastic, something else to add to the long list of fuck-ups he's making. Matt snaps out of his melancholy quick enough when the shots start being fired. He goes to his own station across from Kinzie, ready to assist the ladies, those in the simulation and on the ship, as directed.

Ugh. He really hopes that Kinzie does something rotten soon. This détente between them is too weird.

There's some reprieve in watching Asha making Fray do things her way. He sees them both chaffing; Asha wants control and precision, Fray just wants to get things done and isn't afraid to show it. He laughs out loud when "Asha, that light has a family" comes out of the Saint's mouth; he can't see his partner but he knows those green eyes are rolling. In a lot of ways, it's like the few times Asha made him train with her. The environments were completely safe and sterile, but Asha had treated it all with the exact same odd combination of utterly serious and barely-contained excitement. It amused him then and amuses him even more now with Fray's acerbic commentary. It probably shouldn't, strictly speaking, but it does.

And then he watches an evil clone of his—of Fray blow his brains out.

His "death" doesn't bother him; the rigors of working for MI6 hadn't left time for friends so Asha and Matt had fallen into amity by default. He had figured that he would play into a bad part of her nightmare and prepared himself for it.

What Matt isn't prepared for is what it does to Fray, the real Fray. While Asha, stone cold soldier that she is, allows it all wash over her like nothing, Matt sees that the other woman can't quite manage that. Her lips part in a soft "O" while her whole body jerks with the noise that accompanies the kill-shot. It's miniscule, but Matt sees because he's looking. The tension of her muscles screams that she wants to run—to him.

Greif, agony, and even regret flood her unfamiliar face, bleeding swiftly into a rage that is wholly and unmistakably Fray.

"Then you're gonna fucking love me, you piece of shit!" Matt remembers this tone all too well. She'd used in Steelport standing over him in his world after she'd conquered it, conquered him.

"You." The Un-Fray looks scared behind its bravado.

"See you soon." Every syllable is a promise. It's a promise that Matt watches her deliver with his pulse slamming in his ears.

He should be the one to help Asha out of her tank. He's her handler, her partner, her best friend. Matt stays, though; instead, it's Kinzie who goes to the sublevels where the Stasis Tanks have been stashed away. She sees to Asha and he waits on Fray.

How he knows that she's coming straight out, Matt can't say. He's a little bit afraid to try and guess though a part of him he's struggling to lock up tight is already certain. What's important is that he's there when she does.

Her perfect grayish-green eyes go wide as she steps down from the Simulation Pod and come to focus on him. Matt licks his lips, any and all clever lines he might have been thinking dried up. They're unnecessary though; Fray takes only a few seconds before she's launched herself on him.

Her kiss is harder and hungrier than anything Matt has experienced before. Shaking hands map his face, his shoulders, everything that they can get to, as if doubting he's real. Mildly surprised, Matt goes with it and pulls Fray in as closes as he can get her.

"I'm fine," he whispers breathlessly against her ear after they can't kiss anymore for sheer lack of oxygen. "I'm fine. I promise."

"Room," she responds already jerking him toward the stairs. "Now." He makes no protests even though he should at least go wave at Asha.

Not until later, after they're both depleted and Fray's dozing, does it register to Matt that she didn't call it her room. He looks down at her closed eyes, at the circles beneath. They're dark enough for about three sleepless nights.

Fray isn't ready to put a label on what they have and might never be. But he can't say anymore that she doesn't have feelings, at least where it concerns him. Matt just has to ask himself if he's ready to wait until she can own up to them.

He thinks he might be able to; the way that she mutters his name in her sleep, he figures that they're already halfway there.

3. The Boss

Contrary to Asha's intel and the projection that was her evil(er) self, Fray had bawled like a baby when Aisha died. Snot running down her face, gasping for air, and everything. She just did it where no one could else see. The same goes for when she had believed Loren had stolen Johnny. Still, those jabs, along with so much else from Asha's bubble, stick with Fray.

Things are good for now, though. She and Matt have reached an unspoken compromise over their equally unspoken problems. It won't last, Fray knows that much, but while it's there, she intends to enjoy it.

Apparently, the attitude is noticeable.

"Your face is gonna crack," Pierce teases as they drive toward a virus injection point.

She only raises an eyebrow at him. "Oookaaay…"

Pierce laughs. "You're smiling."

"Should I not?"

"Nah. I just haven't seen you do it in forever."

"What are you talking about?" she asks. "I smile all the time. Did Paul scramble your brains or something? Kinzie and Shaundi are the grumpy ones last time I checked."

Taking a shot at a Saints Flow mascot that's walking down the street, Pierce makes a face. It goes down at once; he must have capped the brain. He turns back toward her with a scowl. "First off, do not mention that thing. Second, okay, true, you're not the most serious person in the crew. But you ain't smiled like you've been doing in years." A smirk forms on his lips. "I'm guessing it has something to do with who you've been sharing your room with."

Fray is starting to dislike where this conversation is going. If she won't talk to the guy she's fucking about their relationship, she's definitely not going to talk to Pierce about it. Especially if it's going to go south things it did when Shaundi brought it up; they haven't spoken in over a whole week.

"Pierce." His name becomes a warning.

"Hey, hey, I'm not judging or prying," Pierce puts both hands up though the smirk doesn't fade. "I just wanted to say I'm glad the smile's back."

Fray snorts, taking the Temptress on a hard left. Conditioned to Fray's violent hand at the wheel, Pierce doesn't even bat an eye when a garbage truck nearly smacks into his side of the car.

"You'd be the first," she says, thinking, of course, of Shaundi.

The shit-eating look on Pierce's face melts for a second, replaced by what might be pity. That's quick to fade too, however, and, as only Pierce can, he shifts the mood with minimal effort.

"Well, you know me, anything to please you, Boss Lady," he tells her. "And so that the room I'm technically sharing with your boy toy stays nice and private."

That gets a smile from her, much as Fray tries to deny it. It's one of her friend's talents and surely more useful than the copious amounts of Saints Flow he can down. "Oh, Pierce, your altruism is beyond words."

"I know, right?" He bumps her shoulder lightly with his own. "You gotta tell me something, though; I've got a bet going on with Keith. Is Miller into pegging? He is, isn't?"

They never make it to the virus injection sight. The Temptress crashes into the side of a house since Fray is laughing too hard to keep control of the wheel. Then, after they extract themselves from the burning wreckage, Pierce convinces her that they've done enough for the day and that a few rounds of pool is what she really needs. She agrees with no real hesitation.

Plus she has some fun new questions to ask Matt.

4. Matt

"Do you honestly need another one?" Matt asks Asha.

She scowls and he holds up his hands. And he thought that losing the internet had derailed his life. Poor Asha cannot cope without a field mission.

"Just saying," he mutters. "If you want to keep sharp, there's still plenty to do in the Main Simulation."

"If I wanted to sharpen my inner berserker, I'd agree with you," she says, a smile tugging at the right corner of her mouth. "Since I am not, I believe I'll pass on tagging along behind your girlfriend."

Matt snorts, grinning down at the keyboard. "I think I'm obligated to correct you and say she's a 'Puckish Rogue' not a berserker."

"Well, she doesn't foam at the mouth, I'll give her that."

He laughs and it occurs to Matt just how much he's missed this, missed having someone he was sure of and with whom he had a natural rapport around. At least until the next sentence leaves her mouth.

"So, do I get to ask about how that all happened? You and the woman you tried to eradicate once-upon-a-time?"

Honestly, Matt's surprised that Asha hasn't brought it up already. It doesn't make him more willing to talk about it, but he does appreciate her not charging in the moment she found out.

He shrugs without looking up. "Not much to tell. We were bored and horny and secluded in space. It's good so we keep doing it."

"Bullshit." There's just enough weight in her tone to make Matt pause and lift his head toward her. Asha's brilliant green eyes have narrowed but not hardened. This question isn't judgmental, just concerned.

He's touched, mostly. A bit indignant too, but he smooths that down.

"I'm not sure what it is exactly that you want to hear," he says as he goes back to coding. "Because I highly doubt it's a play-by-play of what we do in the bedroom."

"Don't be crude." She almost smiles anyway. "And what I want to know is that you're…happy, I suppose."

Matt can't stop himself from tossing a withering glance up at his partner. "Considering that our planet was vaporized and we're constantly on the brink of ruin, I don't think that 'happy' gets consideration. At all."

Asha mirrors that glance and reaches out to flick his ear.

"Ouch."

"Don't be a baby." She crosses her arms, leveling her most no-nonsense stare upon him. "How do you feel about her, Matt? Emotions. That bag. We both know you have those no matter how else you try to pretend."

Matt knows that he's given himself away as soon as he answers. The words leave his tongue too quick, too hot, and too hard. Asha knows him better than anyone does, fooling her would take a lot more tact than he possesses.

"Don't be stupid, that sort of rubbish is for children."

Green eyes widen and Asha's jaw drops, just a bit. Under other circumstances, Matt would be impressed with himself; it's downright impossible to surprise Asha Odekar. Right now, however, he ducks his head down, putting the screen between them as heat climbs his neck and colors his face.

"Oh, Matt." Pity, empathy, and affection are a sickening combination. "You—"

He cuts her off. "I don't want to talk about it. We are not talking about it." It's unwise to speak to a woman as deadly as his partner like is, to glare at her threateningly as if she were a criminal. Especially, when said deadly woman is your only friend in the world.

Luckily, the friend part keeps Matt from getting shot in the knee.

Well, and the cold, unforgiving vacuum of space. Mostly friendship, though, Matt is positive.

Mouth puckered to the side in a grimace, Asha glares back at him and nods. "Fine. Fine. Whatever you want."

Things are tense for a few moments. Matt has to suppress the urge to squirm and he can actually hear Asha's teeth grinding. Finally, though, a smile cracks through and she shakes her head.

"Did she actually play that little paranormal bromance of yours?" she asks. "Or was Kensington just fucking with me?"

Matt finds himself grinning at this keyboard. "Yes, she did. She also promised to do the prequel with me when I finish writing it up."

Asha laughs. "Ugh. Bloody horrific."

He realizes, a bit belatedly, that he lied to his partner. Earth has been blown to bits and they're teetering on the edge of annihilation but Matt is happy. Fray makes him happy.

Bloody horrific, indeed.

5. The Boss

A week and a half since their fight, Shaundi comes to Fray for help. She suspects Pierce of guilting the other woman into doing it and almost says no on principle. Instead, she agrees to help Fun Shaundi look for her drugs along with the Veteran Child problem because, hey, she's kind of a vindictive jerk and the need to see Shaundi's forehead vein jump is just too enticing. The drugs and violence do them all some good, though. Both versions of her friend are getting along with each other and with her. Still tripping their asses off, they somehow end up in the little pocket simulation Matt made for Fray.

"This place is so nice," Fun Shaundi says dropping down onto one of the stools in front of the bar. It's all really just code but, like everything else about the Simulation, Fray can fool herself into enjoying the drinks that Shaundi is whipping up for their impromptu Ladies Night.

She also loves the fact that Matt remembered little details, like an ever-restocking the bar, when he made this for her.

"Especially without newbies getting underfoot everywhere," Shaundi says. She slides one of the tall glasses of blue curacao, lemonade, and peach schnapps into Fray's hand. Tiffany Blue Lemonade; the bartender Shaundi dated for this recipe is possibly her favorite of her friend's many exes. Never met him but TBLs are the best.

"Yeah," Fray agrees. "But they were cheaper than guard dogs."

They give Fun Shaundi the grand tour of the place, or rather, they try to. She keeps wandering back to the greenhouse; Fray and Shaundi give up on her after the third run and end up cross legged on the bedroom floor.

"You think, like, if you sucked Matt's dick just right, he'd recreate my place?" Shaundi asks after setting the stereo up. She toes off her boots just as Fray has already and plops down beside her. "I miss my clothes."

"I know," Fray says miserably. "I may not have ever worn those Jimmy Choo platforms but that doesn't mean I wanted 'em to go all 'splody."

"I wore 'em."

"You bitch, I'll never forgive you. Did they look fabulous?"

"Super fabulous. They would've looked even more fabulous on you. Your ass is nicer. Those shoes would've made it go all POP."

"Aww, okay, I forgive you."

They grin at one another, just like they used to, right before Steelport and the Syndicate ruined everything. Shaundi looks away first but she doesn't run off muttering as Fray expects her to. Instead, her head lands on Fray's shoulder—something else that hasn't happened in a very long time.

"Are you in love with him?" she asks, brown eyes serious and focused despite the buzz they keep feeding.

Fray's just drunk and high enough to be honest with her. "I dunno. I like him. A lot. He gives me shit and takes mine. At the end of the day it feels pretty good to sit around and do my thing while he's doing his in the same vicinity." She takes a long drink, finishing off her TBL. "Plus he's good in bed. Like, really good. He made me come three times this morning."

"Wow. T.M.I. and all, but still, wow."

"Yeah."

Shaundi is quiet for a few moments, looking out of the window. It's night here too, and prettier. Matt gave this pocket an absurdly clear sky and moon phases; right now, a crescent gleams in front of thousands of bright pinpricks.

"I thought I was in love with Johnny," she finally tells her.

"I know, honey," Fray says. It's true; everyone knew Shaundi had it pretty bad for Fray's oldest friend, even Pierce, vapid as he could be.

"And Kinzie and Oleg never really did take time to get their shit together, even after the deal with Temple."

"No they didn't," she agrees. Kinzie and Oleg were made for each other. It's fucking movie sad.

"I'm never gonna like the little prick, but if he makes you happy, I can be cool with him," Shaundi says. She tugs at Fray's ponytail, jerking the tie out so she can start braiding sections of it. Fray lets her because why the fuck not? "He fucks up, though; I call dibs on chucking him out of the airlock."

"You got it."

6. Matt

There are a lot of things that Matt's come to expect, or rather, that he's tried not to start discounting since the Earth was lost. Even more so since he started sleeping with the woman that he once considered the bane of his existence. Seeing Shaundi and her 'Fun' double, passed out, naked, and surrounded by several likewise unclothed digital people from the Main Simulation, in the middle of Fray's Penthouse isn't among anything he ever expected when he makes his way in there one early morning/late night.

His chest tightens at the pile of bodies at first, releasing only when he's sure that Fray isn't among them. It's a brief respite, because, of course, he knows she is here and that doesn't mean she's alone.

Quietly as he can, Matt makes his way up to the bedroom.

He doesn't own her, he knows that. They haven't put any labels on their relationship; in fact they've avoided it. He doesn't have the right to be jealous.

None of that logic stops every muscle in Matt's upper body from involuntarily constricting as he stands outside her bedroom door. Swallowing hard, he only finds the courage to push the already slightly ajar open when a noise comes from within.

Fray is alone and asleep, curled in the center of her king-size bed atop the blankets. Several hanks of her hair have been sloppily braided, her makeup is smeared, and her only clothing is a threadbare shirt that's far too big for her. She's definitely had sexier moments but Matt thinks he might just be more attracted to her in that shirt than he's ever been attracted to her in stilettos and a plunging neckline.

It's a wholly stupid way to realize that you're in love with someone.

He stands there, absorbing that realization for fuck-all knows how long, watching her wriggle and sigh in her sleep. By all rights, Matt should be terrified; after all, even the thought of being attached to Fray had turned his stomach for weeks. But he doesn't feel anything remotely like that now. Maybe because his subconscious has been in on things for a while, so he's already accepted it. Another, more likely explanation, is that he's been dating a sociopath, so he's a little desensitized to scary things.

"Hey." Fray's sleep-laden voice cracks through his stupor. He manages not to jump and meets her half-opened eyes.

"Hey," he returns.

Whether it's because she senses that he's stuck or just because it's what she wants to do it, Matt will never know. What's important is that her right arm comes up, beckoning him toward her.

Of course, he doesn't refuse.

Sparing only a moment to strip down to his boxers, Matt takes Fray's hand. Their bodies move without conscious thought; Fray is mostly asleep but she welcomes him against just the same. Her thighs curl around his hips and she folds her head beneath his. Matt's hands slide up Fray's back, one beneath the shirt, the other to the nape of her neck, while hers curl just beneath his armpits. He noses her hairline and kisses the stud in her left brow.

Her breathing is back to a steady, shallow rhythm within minutes. It puffs against his neck and he adores it even despite the touch of liquor that permeates each exhale.

"Fuck, I love you," he says it just to hear the words, to acquaint their texture against his tongue. They feel perfect. Matt hadn't even realized how long they've been clawing at the back of his throat.

"Know y'do. Now go t'sleep."


Author's Notes: This isn't the end of Matt and Fray's tale; it's going to continue in at least two more stories, also in snippet perspective form. So don't hate me too much for this ending, 'kay?

Thanks to everyone who's keeping up with me and reading, you are awesome.