If you have to ask the pairing, you haven't been reading enough of Zaedah's drabbles!
The Request
(092 Run)
"Come to bed," she told him.
Having fallen asleep in cradled warmth, the loss of the embrace let a bone-deep chill stir her to waking. Her weary body registered the absence before her brain was ready to release the visions it had been entertaining. Delicious dreams were stolen by opened eyes, which cut through the dark to judge the distance between the bed and her lover. Too far. But he harkened not her request, seeming to prefer the window's view of broken moonlight to her arms. He needed to clear his head, a service she wasn't allowed to provide.
"I'm going for a run."
………
"Come to bed," she told him.
Having spent days in the company of corpses, she needed the power within him to evaporate the weakness in her. But he gave her nothing tonight. Not polite conversation. Not proximate silence. Not even primitive lust. Sleep evaded her because he evaded her. By choice. She resigned herself to watching him abuse his spirit with every loss they'd encountered on this case. He was in no position to heal her own wounds. Though her insides stung from the cuts she'd made on others, she asked anyway.
"I'm going for a run."
………
"Come to bed," she told him.
Having a predicted snowfall of 8 inches did not deter him from taking advantage of their rare night off. Full moon, crisp air and time conspired to call him from her side. He'd return, tired but recharged; something she'd use to her own benefit. The expected accumulation increased by the minute and she tried to coax him from the door. Denied again in favor of the frozen caress of night.
"I'm going for a run."
………
"Come to bed," she told him.
Having the flu did nothing to soften his mood. The invincible leader hunched over medical files that would take human form tomorrow. She'd asked him to push this trip off on another team. She'd asked him to coordinate their group from home. The man was sick, but stubborn. His immune system bore the scars of a merciless schedule and now he was paying for ignoring the signs. The ones she'd pointed out with increasing volume for days if only he'd listened. Still, healing was never found in her presence. Knowing the answer, she asked one more time.
"I'm going for a run."
………
"Come to bed," she told him.
Having barely crossed the threshold, the forest of candles caught his attention in singular surprise. Hazy plumes wafted from mini-fires, the tangible manifestation of her inner desire. The smoke alarms had been disconnected and he had been disarmed. The front door was closed with purpose, and he remained on the preferred side. No defenses. No distance. No denial. And no moonlight was needed to clear his head.
"I'm coming."