AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you've already read this over on AO3, you'll note that this chapter has been toned down a bit to meet content standards here. I hope the emotion still shines through.


Len couldn't remember ever feeling as exposed as he did at that moment. Not so much because he was physically half naked, but because he was emotionally naked with Sara. For her, he'd just torn down the wall of ice he'd built over so many years to keep most people out.

He had no experience with empathy. He'd kept expecting Sara to bolt, all through his story, despite her reassurance that she wasn't going anywhere. His fellow hard cases would have smelled blood, or at the least weakness. Best-case scenario, they'd have just walked away. Worst case could have meant his life.

Sara had amazed him. No walking away, no look of scorn for his weakness. Instead, she gazed at him with soft eyes that sometimes filled with tears. No one had ever wept for him before. Not even Lisa. Seeing that had given him a feeling he'd never experienced in his life, and he wasn't sure what to call it. He just knew that it made him feel full to bursting.

Now Sara was watching him again with those soft eyes that showed some pain as she noted his scars. But no disgust or ridicule, unlike most of the other women, and men, who'd come into his bed over the years. And no pity, either, which was good. He didn't want pity.

Sara's gaze was simply one of acceptance.

She leaned forward to kiss him again, her mouth moving gently against his. The taste was sweeter than strawberries. "Tell me what you're thinking," she whispered when they parted.

He reached up to touch her face. "That I must be dreaming, to have you here, like this. I think you'd better pinch me."

Her mouth twitched a little. "I was thinking of much nicer ways to touch you." She smoothed her warm hands over his bare shoulders in demonstration.

"Hmm." He moved for another kiss. "Sara, if this goes where I think we both want it to…"

"All safe," she reassured him. "Gideon has been very helpful. She says we're both clean, and she gave me a 22nd –century contraceptive, so no worries about adding extra little passengers. And that's not all she did for us." She reached for the little bag she'd brought in and told him, "Lie down. On your stomach."

He quirked an eyebrow at her and complied. "What are you up to, Sara?"

"Taking care of you," she replied. "Close your eyes."

"All right, anything you say." He closed his eyes and felt her slide off the bed. He could hear some quiet movements. Then she climbed back on the bed beside him. She whispered into his ear, "We don't have to do anything you don't want. If you get uncomfortable or nervous, you tell me to stop."

The feel of her warm breath in his ear was making him tingle. "I trust you, Sara."

She kissed his ear and shifted on the bed. After a moment, he smelled something herbal, and felt a warm liquid on his back. He identified it as massage oil when Sara laid her hands on him again. "A little gift from Gideon. I thought you'd need something to relax a bit."

"Not too much, though," he replied.

"Not too much," she agreed. She was rubbing patterns on his shoulders, alternating between firm and soft pressure. He let out a low groan of delight as she moved down his back, tracing his spine slowly. When she reached the waistband of his jeans, she paused. "Okay so far?"

"More than okay," he purred. "Don't stop."

She chuckled. "All right, then. Pants off."

"A little bossy, aren't we?" he asked. He opened his eyes as he started to roll over, and caught his breath. Sara had already stripped down to just a lacy black bra and matching panties, her golden hair cascading around her shoulders. He just stared at her for a while, marveling that he was being given such a gift. Finally he whispered hoarsely, "You are so beautiful, Sara."

She smiled at him softly. "So are you." She leaned down to kiss him again, then poked his arm. "Pants."

He smirked and slid off the bed to shuck off his jeans and socks, leaving on only his shorts, which did little to hide his growing arousal. He looked back at Sara. She was studying him, her eyes running up his body before locking with his eyes. "Don't ever let anyone tell you that you're not beautiful," she told him.

He knelt on the bed and kissed her, putting his arms around her as she laid her hands on his chest. She gave him a little push to lie down again, this time flat on his back.

"I'm not done taking care of you," she told him. "Close your eyes."

He shook his head. "I want to watch you."

A smile curved her lips. "Okay." She reached for the bottle of massage oil and began to give his front side the same loving attention she'd lavished on his back. Despite his best efforts to watch her, his eyes fluttered closed in pleasure as she straddled him and skimmed her hands over his nipples. He let out a moan, jerking his hips up while he smoothed his own hands over the soft skin of her thighs.

She leaned down and kissed him again with an open mouth, her tongue sliding against his briefly before she worked her way across his jaw to his ear. "Patience," she whispered, giving his ear a little nibble.

He made a sound between a chuckle and a groan as she straightened up and began running her hands over him again, moving lower down his abdomen. When she reached the tender skin just under his navel, he drew in a shuddering, moaning breath.

She stopped her movements and waited for him to look at her again. "Are you still all right? Do you want me to stop?"

He couldn't find words for what he wanted. Instead, he sat back up and crushed her to him for a deep kiss, tongues clashing, breath mingling hotly. When they finally had to part for air, he pressed his forehead against hers and said in a rough voice, "I'm more than fine, Sara. You just pushed a button I didn't know I had."

She gave him a wicked smile and reached down. He caught her hand just before it hit that sensitive spot again, and brought it up to his lips. "Slow down, pretty bird." He turned her hand so he could press a kiss to her palm. "No one…" He paused and took in a breath. "Sara, I've had sex before, but no one has ever made love to me. I want to enjoy this. And I want to make love to you."

Now it was her turn to take a quivering breath. Amazing how the look in her eyes could change so quickly from playful to that soft, soulful gaze. He released her hand and kissed her again, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips and teasing them open. He reached around her back to unhook her bra, and pulled away so she could slide it off.

They shifted so she could lay on her back, her hair spread against the pillow. Gazing at her, he decided he wanted nothing between his skin and hers, and he moved to pull off his shorts. She did the same with her panties, leaving her beautifully, enticingly naked beside him.

The more primal part of himself wanted nothing more right now than sink into her, hard and hot and fast, just as he'd done in so many meaningless encounters. He shoved that part down as he leaned on one elbow beside her, tracing his free hand over her skin. His lips soon followed, first targeting her throat, then moving to the spot where her neck and collarbone met. She purred with approval at the contact, encouraging him to go on.

He was working on instinct rather than experience, and from the sounds she was making, instinct was steering him the right way as their bodies joined. She was whispering his name, and other words he couldn't understand. Some other language. He'd ask after. Right now, he needed to feel her lips on his again, to taste her mouth. He moved up the column of her neck. Before descending on her lips again, he looked into her eyes. He felt his heart turn over at what he saw there. Lust, yes, and desire, but mixed with that soft gaze.

"I love you, Leonard," she said softly.

His heart swelled with that emotion he hadn't been able to name before. He knew what it was now. "I love you, Sara," he whispered, and sealed his mouth to hers.

The next thing he knew, he was collapsed on top of her, feeling sated and happy and… loved. Her hands were running up and down his back once again. He gave her a soft kiss and moved off her, pulling her along his side. She pillowed her head on his shoulder, draped one leg over his own, and laid one hand over his heart. He put his own hand over hers and kissed her hair.

"No one's ever said they loved me before," he said softly.

She kissed his shoulder. "Get used to it," she said playfully. "You're going to hear it often from me." She reached up to touch his face. "You should hear it often. Underneath that cold front of yours, there's a good man who deserves to be loved."

"I'm not good, Sara. You know the things I've done."

She moved to kiss him. "It doesn't matter where you came from. It matters where you're going. Remember? You're making new choices, and I still want to be around to see where those choices take you."

He nodded. "And I still want you to be around." He took her hand and laid it back over his heart. Sleep was going to claim him soon, but he had one more thing he wanted to know.

"Sara, you were saying something I didn't understand. It sounded like another language. What was it?"

She smiled a little. "It was Arabic. Enta habibi. You are my love. Enta hayati. You are my life. Habib alby. Love of my heart." She kissed him one more time. "You are all of those things, but most of all, hayati."

She rested her head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her to hold her more closely, and thought about what she'd said.

Hayati. He was her life.

Just as she had become his.

He drifted to sleep with that thought.


::peeking through my hands::

Right now, I feel about as exposed as Len did.

Let me know if you think I got it right.