Otis seemed to have himself sorted out by the time she moved back in with the Firefly family. It was 2 weeks since their fight. 2 weeks, and she couldn't wait to resume life as she had known it. It had been a wonderful stay with her friend, but she missed her Otis.

When she kissed him that night as she lay in bed with him, she knew she was home. She knew it was where she was meant to be, and she could never actually leave him. Maybe it was good for her, though, those 2 weeks apart. She realized just how much she really loved him. She realized just how much she had needed him, too. She needed the comfort of him being there for her when she had a bad day at work. Whether she admitted it or not, she, too, needed his affirmations of her appearance. She needed told she was beautiful and sexy. She hadn't been through such harrowing ordeals as he had, but she had her own self esteem issues that could be summed up quite simply: children are mean. Especially to other children.

As broken as he had been, the ordeal had forced Otis to learn a few things.

She really, truly did love him more than anything. She would never have come back to him, or stayed with him, knowing full well he was a serial killer if she didn't. When she told him she was proud of him, words can't describe what he felt. All his life, all he ever wanted was for people to love him. Someone being proud of him was never something he expected to happen. He had never had that experience with a father or mother figure, standing with some trophy won for some achievement, and hearing how proud their parents were of him. He had only heard the opposite. It had made him feel so good to finally hear those words. So, so good.

He had-somewhat- realized his self-worth. His relapse had been a bad one, the worst he had had since he had actually been suffering from the eating disorder the first time. But somehow, he had come out of it understanding that he wasn't as much of a piece of shit as his mother and father thought he was. If people were willing to fight for him to get better, fight on his side against his own demons, then he had to be worth something to them. And if he was worth something to them, he had to be worth something, period, right? She was willing to fight for him. Fight with him for his health. He had seen the concern on his other family member's faces, too. He finally understood he was worth something.

While he still didn't find himself to be particularly handsome, nor did he really spend too much time thinking about those sorts of things, she had helped him with his self-image, as well. She had forced him to look at the numbers on the scale, and tell him that he was too thin for his height, and prove to him medically why he was. Since they had been together, she had been slowly boosting his confidence in this way, constantly telling him he was handsome or paying him compliments here or there. Maybe he would finally be able to graciously accept them and believe her.

They had just made love- he couldn't even call it just sex or fucking anymore. It definitely wasn't just that with her. She made him feel loved and appreciated, and he made her feel sexy and powerful and loved. It wasn't just the primal sex he used to have with prostitutes or Baby. It was completely different. It really was intimate.

She sat on his chest, pinning him to the bed. They were just laughing and playing around, now. She saw his face change, and felt his hands on her back, pulling her body closer to his face. "Mm? What're you doing?"

He gently kissed her abdomen, pressing moist kisses over the artwork there. She loved it when he did this- kissed all of her tattoos. He equated it to showing her how much he loved every inch of her. To her, it felt like he was worshiping her.

He kissed up to her ribs, letting her body slip down his. His hands roamed her back, sometimes venturing down to her ass. She sighed in pleasure, entangling her fingers in his hair.

He drug his tongue under her breast, along the artwork that had been injected there. She gasped, fisting his hair more tightly. He kissed up her sternum, gazing up at her face. God, it was sexy as hell when he did that. He left kisses on her collarbone, moving along it and out to her shoulder. She felt his hands graze her thighs, tracing the patterns of the ink there, as well. Dragging his tongue along the length of her shoulder, he kissed her neck, eventually claiming her lips, entangling one large hand in her hair, the other in the small of her back.

When he finally drew away, she felt dizzy. No one had ever loved her like that before him. She doubted anyone else could. She panted, breathless. "H...holy shit, baby..."

"Hm? Holy shit what?" He stroked her back lightly, dragging just his fingertips over her bare skin.

"God that was hot...That was so hot..."

He kissed her again, biting her bottom lip and squeezing her ass. She moaned. "Glad you liked it."

She collapsed on his chest, curling up to him. She was so happy with the way the whole situation had turned out.

"Goodnight, babygirl." He held her, still stroking her back.

"Goodnight, Otis. I love you."

He kissed her forehead, pulling the blanket over the two of them and snuggling up to her. He finally had her back. He finally had his girl back.