Title: Deep Breaths/Running Back Home
Author: slytherinpunk/ serafina19 (respectively)
Summary: Running was the only form of exercise where he could almost believe he was his old self, but he always remembered his way back to her.
Rating: PG-13
Timeline: Sly wrote "Deep Breaths" first, but in my head... about nine months after "Fighting Echoes."


Deep Breaths
He couldn't break the habit of going for a morning run. Occasionally, usually with the help of a very strong minded woman (literally), he could be persuaded to put off running his standard five miles until nearly eleven. But old habits died hard, and running was the only form of exercise where he could almost believe he was his old self. There was just the repetitious sound of his feet pounding against the pavement with his breath every now and then uneven when he accelerated his pace. There was no noise from the part of him that was more machine than man, and there was no feeling overwhelmed by the use of downloaded information.

It was almost like reliving what every once-high school jock calls the glory days.

Before the accident, he never referred to himself as a computer-wiz. He knew the basics, sure. But his real passion in high school had been football, and he hadn't just thrived in it, he had concurred and led his team to a championship and took his name to the MVP ranks. His father had expressed some form of pride, but was more invested in his work and had occasionally mentioned how his son should strive to earn a scholarship that couldn't disappear in the blink of an eye after some kind of freak-accident injury.

But Victor had rarely let it get to him. When he was out on the field he was in his zone, and the only things that existed and mattered in those quick four quarters were him and the ball. He really only let his father's lack of enthusiasm get to him when the fans in the stands were chanting his name and his father, of course, was missing another game.

His mother was supportive, but she had more responsibilities as a stay at home mom to his little sister, with her dance classes and cheer-leading practices. They were still excited for him, even though a lot of the rules were too hard for them to follow, and they tried to make it to his games when they could. His championship game had been the exception; even his father had intended (after some nagging from Victor's mom the night before).

He could still feel the excitement from that game as he reflected back on it now. His memories were encrypted and his brain was now wired in a way that sent data to his nerves and throughout his body in a way that Dr. Emil had explained would have to be faster and stronger than average humans. And he felt his heart ache with a pivotal force as he recalled feeling accomplished when his father had wrapped his arm around him at the end of the game; patting his back and congratulating him on a game well done.

As his last mile comes to a close, he always remembers the last few chains of events from that day in a blur. His father suggesting going out to dinner to celebrate, his mother insisting on Victor riding with them rather than his teammates on the school bus, and his little sister negotiating celebratory ice cream. He can recall it all right down to the moment his father caught his gaze in the rear-view mirror, a silent exchange between the two of them just before the other car lost control and crashed into them.

As a natural reaction of sorts, his speed decreases when his memory from the incident crests. Which he's thankful for as his five miles are up, as well as his time for mourning. Within a few feet he's reached the steps of the apartment complex. And after getting passed the first locked door and up twenty flights of stairs, he's unlocking his door and entering his home; shutting the door on both his triumphs and tragic past, and leaving it on the paved roads for tomorrow's morning run.

Because there is no room for guilt trips, and he's been told repeatedly he's done more than his fair share already.

His steps are more careful now as he retreats to the bedroom, it's only going on seven and the sun has only just started to pour through the windows but he knows with just one wrong step to a creaky floorboard and he'll be labeled as the unwanted-alarm clock for the rest of the morning. Once the bedroom door is shut with great stealth on his part, he's shaking out of his grey hooded sweatshirt, and pulling his t-shirt over his head before tossing it in the dirty clothes hamper to the side of his closet.

The next destination for him is the shower, but he freezes when he turns around, his gaze instantly drawn to the sleeping figure on his bed. Her dark hair was spilled over her pillow as she slept on her back, slightly turned into the mattress more on her right side as if she was trying to hide from the sunlight that had started to seep through the window. And naturally, she had managed to kick the covers off of her body in her sleep, leaving her clad in only his white dress shirt from the Oliver's gala the previous night. Which Victor couldn't deny, definitely looked better on her than him.

"You're thinking too loud," her voice was slightly muffled from the pillow as she began to stir awake.

Victor let out a chuckle, "I'd apologize, but it's your fault."

"Mhm," she turned onto her side, causing his shirt to ride up a few extra inches on her body to supply him with a few generous views of her creamy skin. "Believe me, if seducing you at the break of dawn had been my intention, you would have found yourself home earlier."

"Oh really?" Victor kicked off his shoes before moving to the edge of the bed.

She took the invitation without hesitating and reached out for his arm, tugging him forward until she was pressed between his hard body and the mattress. "That, or you would have been more inspired to stay in bed." She hitched her leg up to his waist, her foot teasing up the back side of his pant leg, with just enough pressure to push his body more into hers while her hips seemed to move of their own accord to accommodate him.

Victor felt his mouth twitch slightly, "I happen to always find you..." His eyes dipped from her gaze to her neckline for a brief moment, and then his eyes returned on hers, immediately recognizing the mischief that sparkled behind her blue topaz gaze. He gently lifted his hand to her face, running the back of his fingers down over her cheek, feeling his breath hitch as she tilted her head to lean in to his touch.

"Inspiring," he whispered before he closed the distance between them and claimed her lips with his own.

Evie was like the first real deep breath after a long, exhilarating run. Which was fitting, since she was the reason he was still breathing.

...

Running Back Home
She couldn't break the habit of being overly paranoid, it was part of who she was, part of how she was wired. This run was part of his routine, a little me-time he'd imply but never say aloud, yet it was the only time where she acted this way. At work, she knew he was okay, fiddling away at the newest database that needed to be cracked, or being part of making the newest technology.

Yet when he got up in the morning, to do his run, there was always a part of her that tensed up. He sensed it from time to time, calling her on it, and sometimes she'd pull him back to bed, saying it could wait a couple hours. Other times, she'd merely shrug it off, tell him to go ahead. The last thing she wanted was to be that crazy girlfriend, and Victor deserved better than that. After all, he was one of the few who managed to embrace everything about her, which was why this was one of the few times she ever used her powers.

Superhearing used to be a bitch to control when she was younger, but now, she could narrow down out of the millions of steps taken down to his. In a way, it soothed her, that constant rhythm of his year-old sneakers hitting the pavement. It was why she focused on the sound of his feet, instead of the voice in his head.

Evie wasn't an idiot, she knew what he thought during those times, as the drama of each other's lives wasn't a secret. But it wasn't just that. Evie actually hated ever knowing anything behind his back, and allowed him to have his time, knowing one day, he'd share with her. Because he always did.

And he always remembered his way back home. The familiar tapping on the staircase as he always refused to take the elevator, even after a five mile run, brought her heartbeat up to a familiar rate. Taking a quick breath in, she smelt the remnants of his scent of the shirt that had somehow transferred from him to her after they had returned home from the gala. Somehow, it kept her warmer than the sheets, as they felt like paper when she couldn't feel him there with her.

The door opened, so Evie allowed herself to relax, but the sun started to shine into her eyes, so she slightly manoeuvred to the right, knowing what to expect next. Quiet steps as he went through the hallway, trying not to wake her up after she accidentally called him the unwanted alarm clock a month ago. It wasn't her fault that a meeting went overtime and she hadn't been sleeping. But, being the guy Victor was, he never forgot, and made sure to practically tiptoe to not wake her up, even if Evie faked it morning after morning.

She waits for the bathroom door to close for his daily shower, but instead, she hears the smallest of creaks on the floor, and an overall pause in the air. He's never been that quiet. However, within seconds, she feels his gaze on her, and it takes everything for her not to blush. At this point, there wasn't exactly much left to the imagination, but based on the thought she 'accidentally' heard, it wasn't like he minded.

Blowing her cover, she said quietly, almost into her pillow, "You're thinking too loud."

With that, Victor chuckled, but didn't move in place. "I'd apologize, but it's your fault."

Initially, Evie figured that it was her fault for reading his mind. "Mhm," she said, ready to apologize, but as she turned further on her side, she opened her eyes, seeing the way Victor's gaze followed the lines of her legs. Apparently there are benefits to kicking off the damn sheets after all.

"Believe me, if seducing you at the break of dawn had been my intention, you would have found yourself home earlier."

She watched him kick off his shoes, almost absentmindedly, suggestively asking, "Oh really?" en route to sitting on the edge of the bed.

But he wasn't close enough, not by a long shot. He may spend the morning running, but she spends it worrying, and him sitting there wasn't going to cut it. Evie grabbed his arm, pulling him on top of her, liking this situation much better. "That, or you would have been more inspired to stay in bed."

Her words didn't go completely unpunished, her leg working from his waist, to her foot on the back of his pant leg, and she noticed how he twitched his mouth slightly in reaction.

"I happen to always find you..." The words trailed with his gaze, as his eyes moved lower down for just a second, but when he caught her eyes again, his fingers trailed down her cheek, so she leaned in, wanting just a bit more.

His sentence was finished in the form of a whisper as he leaned his head down closer. "Inspiring."

Evie wanted to ask what he meant by that, but she didn't get a chance as he kissed her deeply, almost taking her head from the pillow, taking her breath away.

But that was okay, because no matter how far he'd run in the morning, Victor would always come back to her, breathing life into a girl who never thought she'd live again.

~End~


Sera's Scribbles: I thought about making "Second Chances" a longer series, and if you are interested in any of the in-between fics, let me know. But I figured it was best to finish this with the first Victor/Evie one-shot. Oddly enough, it wasn't even written by me, but it didn't take long for me to write the companion piece. Granted, this was written over a year ago, while I was transitioning my ending for "Fighting Echoes," but I thought it still fit. Also, Sly was kind enough to give me permission to post this, so I hope you enjoy this.