AN: This follows closely on the heels of episode 4x09, "Kill Shot." Be aware that I consider this one a strong T. Please enjoy!


#7 Lay Your Love On Me

I feel a kind of fear

When I don't have you near.

Unsatisfied, I skip my pride,

I beg you dear...

Don't go wasting your emotion;

Lay all your love on me…

(ABBA, 'Lay All Your Love On Me.')


She was on him the moment he opened his door.

Her arms around his neck, the angles of her hipbones jutting against his as she pushed him forward, toward the nearest wall.

His shoulder blades collided with the unyielding plaster; he reached out for balance, grabbed onto her waist to steady himself and she tumbled against him, warm skin over subtle curves draped all over his chest, one of her legs sliding between his knees.

She looked at him, eyes dark and stormy, fathomlessly deep, her fingers trailing soft caresses along the skin of his neck, for just one moment, drawing him to her.

And then she kissed him. Angled her head and slanted her lips over his mouth. Her lips soft, but urgent, she nudged the seam of his mouth, found her way inside.

He felt the effects immediately, all the way down to his toes. He forgot, ignored his confusion and answered her kiss, his tongue meeting hers in longing, urgent caresses, drawing from her what she gave, a depth of feelings, of need, that until now he had only hoped she felt for him.

She tasted like mystery and his limbs tingled, his skin on fire, his need for her a yearning, gaping ache inside his chest. He held her tightly to him, her middle against his thigh and she rocked forward, groaned into his mouth, a raw visceral sound that raced through his veins like fire along a trail of gasoline.

"Rick…" she moaned, softly slid her lips against his, nipped the pliable flesh with the edges of her teeth. Her fingernails dug into the flesh of his shoulders. Tumbling breath and hooded eyes, she looked at him from underneath her lashes.

"I want you."


It rushed through him, a jumbled mess of emotions; love and devotion, wanting her with a strength he'd never felt for anybody before. Confusion, fear, and anger too, for finding her at his doorstep in the middle of the night, needing him finally, so desperately, when he knew, knew, that she should not be anywhere near here, making life-altering decisions within the messy emotional state that the sniper had spun her back into.

He whirled them around, pressed her against the wall, his body crowding her.

"Kate." He ground out her name through his teeth, Kate what are you doing to us?


She heard the anxiety in his voice, and she felt set on fire, and so many thoughts were warring in her head, fighting to be heard, but she found that she could focus if she focused on him; the tangled mess became clearer, showed her a path, could guide her along. Yes, desperation had brought her here, fear and anxiety, but also a yearning so intense that she could barely breathe, and so she had called a cab, and traveled up the elevator, and knocked on his door, and pounced on him.

She trailed her fingers along his neck, up to his face, cradled his cheeks in the palms of her hands. His skin was flushed and the heat traveled through her, intensifying the frenzied pool of longing within her. His eyes were hooded, dark blue depths, wanting her, worried, flashes of anger; she understood it all. She was aware, she knew that it was messy, that she wasn't healed yet but she needed him to see, to understand that it didn't mean she didn't know what she wanted. She wanted to fight, she wanted to be more. She wanted…him.

She tilted his head, held his eyes.

"Please," she whispered.


He wanted to be angry with her, he really did, for putting him on the spot like that, for risking everything they had worked for so hard to a turbulent moment of emotional vulnerability, but then she begged him, begged, and there was nothing he could do but give her what she wanted, needed, what she asked of him.

Because he realized that she asked for him. No matter her emotional state, she had come to him, needing him, wanting him. And he was not going to deny her. He would throw caution to the wind because he loved her too much to deny her anything.

He hiked her leg higher so it was draped over the side of his hip, cradling her against his thigh, and she gasped, her eyelashes trembling, a dark curtain against the fair skin of her cheek.

"On one condition," he ground out. Her eyes fluttered open, her irises glinting with the dark green of arousal, and she stared at him, with her lips parted and glistening invitingly.

He stroked a hand over her cheek, fingers rippling along the rim of her ear, and then he slid them to the back of her neck, tilted her head so she would look at him, would focus. He needed her to focus because this was important, vital.

"You don't get to regret this, Kate." It was a demand, sounding harsher than he intended but he was not going to budge on that. There would be no going back after tonight.

She stared at him, lips trembling and her fingers digging into his shoulders, and for a terrifying second cold fear tumbled along his limbs like ice cubes. This ephemeral moment, right here in the dimly lit entryway of his loft, it could make them or break them.

But she pulled herself closer by his shoulders, brought her mouth to his. She shook her head and their lips rubbed together enticingly. Warm gusts of air tumbled into his mouth as she spoke.

"No regrets."


She was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Her milky skin contrasted starkly against his chocolate brown satiny sheets as she laid spread out on his bed, her hair a mess of curly tangles, eyes closed, fingers clenched around fistfuls of fabric, her heels digging into the mattress.

He explored her glorious body. Mapped her skin with fingertips and kisses, so incredibly soft against his touches, so responsive when he discovered the most sensitive spots, grazed them with the pads of his fingers, his tongue, his teeth until she writhed underneath him, hiccupped longing, needy sounds out of her mouth.

And when his lips grazed her inner thigh, and those long, incredible, respectable legs were draped around him, cradling him to her, he discovered, "you taste like cherries too," murmuring the words against her skin, and her hips flew up, his name dripping from her lips.

"Cas…"


She was sobbing, sobbing under his devotion to her, her body clenched, awareness heightened to every contact with her skin, overwhelmed by sensations and maybe she should be embarrassed that she was crying but she wasn't, she couldn't, because this, this, is what she had wanted, needed so desperately, this intensity, this release, this, him. Always him. Always him…


He awoke to darkness, her scent lingering on the sheets but the bed empty beside him.

He rose to a sitting position, heart hammering, tried blinking his eyes to clarity. No regrets, she had promised him…

He became aware of breathing that was not his, and turned his head to find her standing by his window, her silhouette illuminated by the dim lighting coming in from the city streets, and his heart skipped and fluttered.

She was wearing his shirt, the one she had taking off his body only a few hours previously, and there was a vulnerability to her that made him shiver, ache with the strength of love he felt for her, so deep, so encompassing. She was staring outside, her eyes wide; he knew she was thinking because the tip of her thumb was in her mouth.

"Kate?"


She turned to find him awake, sitting within a mess of tangled sheets, looking up at her, so full of need, and love, and worry.

"I'm not regretting it, Rick," she reassured him.

And she didn't. A moment of panic had driven her out of his warm embrace, her heart hammering almost painfully against her ribs. She had felt it, the urge to bolt, just for an instant. But she had reached for his shirt, and draped within the fabric, surrounded by his comforting scent her mind had cleared and she realized that she didn't want to leave him. She had stood by the window and allowed the familiar rhythm of city noises calm her nerves, ground her.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." She wavered what to say, but she was standing mostly naked in his bedroom after he had done things to her that still made her insides flutter, and there was no reason not to say what was on her mind. Not if she wanted to keep him.

"I'm just… scared."

"Of what?"

"That I will mess this up." What they had was good, so good, and now it was so much more, so amazing, so overwhelming, and she couldn't mess this up, couldn't lose it. Lose him.

"Come here," he urged her, holding out his hand to her in invitation. She knew that he wanted nothing more than to get up, pull her into his arms, comfort her; she could see it in his eyes. But he knew it was important that she took this step.

And so she did. It only took two strides with her long legs and she was by his side, laced her fingers with his.

He tugged her closer, nudged his face against the warm skin of her stomach, and her body tingled deliciously; a gasp tumbled off her lips. He cradled her to him, looked up with his chin still resting against her abdomen, eyes serious.

"Do something for me," he asked.

She trailed her fingers through the soft strands of his hair. "What?"

"Don't think too much. Let's just take this one step at a time. Can you do that?"

She wondered if he realized that they had already jumped about fifteen steps ahead, but she did understand his plea, what he was trying to say. Because it wasn't a plea, it was a promise. A promise made to her that he would take his time with her, that he would be there for every step, that he would not give up on her. He never had. Her body welled with warmth, her head rushed with the intensity, the strength of love she felt for him. And soon, she would be able to tell him. Very soon.

She nodded, smiled down at his face. "So what's our next step?"

"It involves you coming back to bed, and letting me hold you while you fall asleep."

She grinned, nudged his shoulders, and he tumbled backwards, bringing her with him as they fell back onto the mattress. He scooted back against the pillow while she draped herself over his chest, legs entwined with his, her head resting where she could hear his heartbeat, strong and regular and calming. He wrapped his arms around her and she was surrounded by him; all man and love and safe. She took a deep breath.

"I can do that."

End of Scene