Well, I'm glad everyone enjoyed that last chapter. Several questions will be answered in this one. There is also a major smut scene in this chapter. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not ours!

CICICICICICICICICICICICICICICI

An hour later, Alex found herself in the ER of the nearest hospital, St. Matthew's. She didn't like being poked and prodded, and it was only serving to fuel her determination to get to her partner. But a small part of her didn't want to go back, and it was a strong part. She sighed and wrapped her arms around her abdomen. Either way, she was in trouble. If she ran, or if she went back home. It wasn't going to be pretty.

The city at night never made Bobby nervous. Very few things ever did. He walked aimlessly for a long time, letting his thoughts wander, until he realized how late it was. With a heavy sigh, he headed for home. His partner had him all out of sorts and he didn't know what to do about it.

She stared ahead at the whitewash wall in front of her. A nurse came in to check on her, and she smiled kindly. "Is there anyone I can call for you?"

Alex started to shake her head, but then thought better. "Actually, there is." She gave her Bobby's cell phone number, then raised her hand to her head. She didn't care anymore. She needed him, and just how she needed him, she'd figure out later.

Nurse Turner went back out of the room and to the nurse's station, then picked up the phone and began dialing the number Alex had given her.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, frowning at the unfamiliar number

Flipping it open, he answered, "Goren."

"Mr. Goren? This is Lisa Turner, at St. Matthew's. I'm calling about Alexandra Eames."

He stopped dead in his tracks and his heart jumped into his throat. He swallowed hard. "S-St. Matthew's...what happened?"

"She was in an accident. She's pretty shaken up, and she asked me to call you."

He swallowed a surge of panic. "I-Is she all right? Can I talk to her?"

"She's okay, for the most part. Hold on a minute." Turner set the phone down, then walked back into Alex's room and ushered her out and over to the nurse's station. She handed her the phone, and Alex took it reluctantly. "Bobby...?"

"Eames...what happened? Are you all right?"

She closed her eyes for a moment. "Yeah, I think. My head is killing me."

"Do you want me to come and get you?"

"Yeah, if you're not busy... They won't let me drive."

"N-no...I'm not busy. I'll be there right away."

"Okay." She started to hang up, but quickly said, "Bobby? Thanks..."

He hesitated, surprised. "Uh...sure..."

Closing the phone, he slid it in his pocket and headed back toward the hospital where he'd left his car, worry solidifying like a rock in the pit of his stomach.

Alex hung up the phone, then went back to her room. The pounding was growing worse by the minute, and she laid down and tried to relax. Bobby would be there soon, and maybe things would be okay then.

CICICICICICICICICICICICICICICICICICICICICICICICICICI

Turner was sitting at the nurse's desk, filling out paperwork, when a tall, dark haired man approached her. She met his intense eyes and said, "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Alex Eames," he answered, unable to conceal his anxiety, which had worsened with every mile he drove.

She nodded in understanding. "You must be Bobby." She stood up and walked around the desk, then led him down the hall. When they reached the right door, she said, "She's right in there."

"Thank you. Um, is she all right?"

"Her car went off the road, so she's a very lucky woman that her injuries weren't worse. The worst injury she sustained was a laceration on her head, probably from when her head hit the steering wheel. Other than that, the injuries were limited to scrapes and bumps."

He nodded, but there still a rock in the pit of his stomach. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." She walked away from him, a small smile on her face.

He opened the door slowly and poked his head into the small room. Her eyes were closed. Quietly, he slipped into the room and stepped up to the bed, studying the bruises on her face and the sutured laceration that marred the smooth skin of her forehead. Gently, he brushed her hair back and caressed her cheek. What brought her to this...and did he have anything to do with it?

She stirred at the gentle touch, unaware of who was standing beside her. Her head pounded viciously, and she groaned softly.

He gently took her hand, his face a study in remorse. What had he failed to do? Why was she here, injured and alone, three hours outside the city?

Her eyes slowly fluttered open, and she looked around the room blearily. She slowly realized who was in the room with her, and she licked her dry lips. "Bobby...?"

"Hey...I..." he trailed off, uncertain. He had no idea what to say to her.

She looked down at his hand, which was wrapped tightly around hers. She gave it a slight squeeze.

"What happened, Eames?"

She reached up and touched her temple with her free hand, sighing softly. "The car... I went... off the side of the road..."

"What are you doing up here?"

She swallowed thickly and turned her head away from him. How was she going to answer that? She knew why, but now... now it just didn't make sense, even in her own mind. She had been angry, and she did the one thing she always swore she'd never do: she ran. Instead of facing what might have been the greatest thing of her life, she ran from it. How was she going to even begin to explain that to the man standing beside her?

"Eames?" His voice was gentle and laced with concern.

"I..." The pounding in her head suddenly amplified ten times. "I don't know," she finally answered quietly. "I just...got in the car...and I drove. I didn't even think about it..."

"B-but...why? What upset you?"

She groaned softly. "Bobby..."

His eyebrows creased with concern. "Eames...Alex...what's wrong?"

"I drove...because I was afraid..." She drew in an unsteady breath. "I needed... to get away..."

His face grew dark. "Afraid?" He turned and ran a hand over his head, agitated. He began to pace in the small room. "I...I don't...understand..."

"Because... I realized something." She grunted slightly as she pushed herself upright in the bed, ignoring the nauseating waves sweeping over her.

"Something that scared you so bad you took off and wrecked your car?" He could not imagine anything that would cause her that much grief and he was afraid that he was inadvertently the cause. His worry was reflected clearly on his face.

"I didn't mean to wreck the car!" She leaned forward and rested her head in her hand. "Look, Bobby, I know where the boundaries between us are. But..." She looked at him helplessly, unable to find the words to continue.

He didn't like the way this conversation was headed, and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He had no idea how to react. "I, uh, I didn't say you meant to wreck your car," he said gently, hoping to steer the conversation away from the issue of their relationship. He didn't want things to change. He had messed everything up badly enough as it was and he couldn't take any more tension between them.

She stared at him, recognizing the look in his eyes, and she turned her head away. If he didn't want to discuss it, fine. Maybe now wasn't the time to talk about it, anyway. She waved a hand dismissively. "Never mind. Can you just... take me home? Please?"

Now she was upset. How could he smooth this over? Avoiding the issue wasn't the answer. It wouldn't solve anything and it would only make her resent him more. "I..." He dropped his chin to his chest, conceding defeat. He let out a miserable sigh. "Whatever you want, Eames." he finally answered, his defeat clear in his tone. He had no idea what else to say.

She heard his tone, and she sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. Slowly, she swung her leg over the side of her bed and pushed herself to her feet. Picking up her jacket off of the chair, she bit her lip from the pain as she draped it over her shoulders. "Let's go."

He reached out on an impulse, gently grasping her arm and pulling her against him into a warm hug. He felt he had to do something, and a hug seemed the least harmful. He murmured a soft apology into her hair.

She hesitated before wrapping her arms around him. She felt safe right then, safer than she had in a long time, and she didn't want to let go of that feeling. She didn't want to let go of him. She heard him apologize quietly into her hair, and she ran her palm along his back.

The soft caress of her hand along his back was reassuring, but he still felt badly, knowing he was the source of her fear and her unrest. He gently kissed the top of her head and swallowed the impulse to offer another apology. He had been apologizing to her a lot lately.

She froze against him, then reluctantly pulled away. Brushing her hair away from her eyes, she said quietly, "Are you...ready to go?"

He nodded, feeling worse now. "Let's go."

She studied his eyes intently, then reached out and touched his hand before she headed toward the door.

Nurse Turner looked up from her computer, and her brow furrowed when she saw her patient wearing a jacket and looking like she was about to leave. She stood up. "Miss Eames, you know we wanted to keep you overnight for observation."

Alex stiffened. "I know. And I'm fine. I'm going back home so I can rest."

Bobby raised an eyebrow at his partner, but he knew that arguing with her would not serve to endear him to her in the least. He bit his lower lip for a moment, then said, "Would it help if I stayed with her and kept an eye on her?"

Alex glared at him.

Turner frowned. "I'm not sure that is such a good idea."

He didn't have to look at her to know the look on her face. "I...I know what to watch for. I'm her partner. I'll take care of her."

She tapped her fingertips against her arm. "Okay," she finally agreed. "I have some papers you'll need to sign. Then you can take her home."

He nodded. "Thank you." He still would not look at Alex.

Turner handed him the papers and a pen, while Alex went down the hall and found a bench to sit on.

He signed the papers, assuming responsibility for her. He only hoped she would let him take care of her. That would be his biggest hurdle and he had nothing to bargain with. He handed the papers back to the nurse and gave her a smile. "Thank you."

She returned his smile. "Take care of her."

"I will do my best."

Alex stood up when Bobby approached her, and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Let's go..."

He watched her walk away from him, studying her body language and he knew he was deep in trouble. Why the hell not? He hadn't been out of trouble for months.

She walked out of the hospital with him right behind her, and she easily spotted his SUV and walked over to it. Grabbing the handle, she opened the door and climbed into the passenger's side, shutting the door behind her.

He hesitated briefly before sliding behind the wheel. He backed out of the parking space and drove out of the parking lot. He debated trying to talk to her, but one glance at her told him that would be the wrong thing to do. He sighed softly and decided to keep quiet.

A half hour down the road, she finally spoke. "I can take care of myself, you know."

"I know you can."

"Then take me home. I just want to sleep, and that's all I'm going to do."

"You have a concussion. Someone has to keep an eye on you, make sure you can be easily woken every couple of hours. It doesn't matter to me which couch I hang out on, but I want to keep an eye on you."

"Damn it, Goren." She tucked her arm between her head and the window. "I just want to be alone tonight."

He decided he had nothing to lose by pushing the issue. "Then I'll turn around and you can be alone in a hospital room," he replied, trying to keep his irritation out of his tone.

She lifted her head and stared at him, her mouth slightly parted. Several miles passed before she finally said, "Fine. You can stay. Just take me home."

He felt no relief at his victory. She was still mad at him, and that never sat well with him. He rubbed his palm against the steering wheel. "Uh, are you hungry?"

"Not really," she answered quietly.

Might as well go all the way... "So...how much trouble am I in now?"

She looked at him. "You're not."

"Come on, Eames. You're pissed and it's because of me. I am responsible for your accident and now I'm forcing you to be taken care of against your will. I just...I want to know where I stand."

Her eyebrows arched in surprise. "You didn't cause my accident!"

"Why did you take off, Eames? You were upset and that contributed to it. I am responsible for you being upset, and that's why you got hurt."

"Oh, God, Bobby. The accident was my fault. I wasn't careful enough. I was thinking about..." She cleared her throat. "Something else, and I wasn't paying attention."

"You need to come clean with me, Eames."

"Now is not the time or place, Goren," she pointed out.

He clenched his jaw and focused on the road. He tried. He was just going to be quiet now.

She settled down again and stared at the road passing her, until her eyelids grew heavy and she finally fell asleep.

He pulled up in front of her apartment. A very big part of him wanted to drop her off and get going. He was upset and agitated. But he was also responsible, not only for his partner's injury, but for her welfare, and he'd given his word. That still meant something to him. "Eames," he called, gently shaking her shoulder. "We're here."

She startled awake at his touch, bumping her head against the window. Hissing in pain, she held her hand up to her head. "Are we back already?" she asked groggily after a few moments.

He bit back a reply and got out of the car, walking around to open her door for her.

She eased herself to the ground, shivering as the night air hit her. Her eyes focused on the ground, and she whispered, "I'm sorry, Bobby..."

"Don't." he grumbled. "Let's just get you inside so you can rest."

She followed him into the building, her alertness returning by the minute. When they reached her door, she pulled her keys out and handed them to him.

He opened the door and let her precede him into the apartment. "Go get ready for bed and lay down. I'll fix you some toast and tea."

Her stomach churned at the thought, but she went into her bedroom and changed, then collapsed into the bed.

Ten minutes later, he knocked on the door.

She heard him knock, but her face was buried in her pillow. Irritated, she lifted her head and said, "What?"

He knew that tone and he steeled himself for another confrontation. Opening the door slowly, he stepped into the dimly lit room and walked to her bedside, setting the small dish and cup of tea on her bedside table. "Here you are. I, uh, I'll be in every two hours to check on you, but other than that, you won't know I'm here. Good night, Eames."

At his hesitant voice, her anger dissipated. "I'm... sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you..." Her head went back down to the pillow. "I know you're just being a good partner."

He stopped in the doorway, not mollified at all by her apology. "No, Eames. I'm not. But I am trying to be your friend."

He left the room.

When the door shut, she turned her face into her pillow to hide her tears. Her shoulders shook, and her head was aching again. All she wanted was to wrap her arms around him and never let him go, but something was keeping her from doing just that. She wasn't exactly sure of what, though. She reached down and pulled her comforter over herself, but sleep wouldn't return.

He dropped onto the couch, miserable. He had no idea what to do to settle himself, and he hated like hell that she was angry with him. How the hell was he going to handle it when his mother died if he was on the outs with Eames as well? He leaned against the arm of the couch and let himself sink more deeply into the black depression that had been threatening him for months.

She rolled over and stared up at the ceiling. She saw the tea and toast out of the corner of her eye, and she sighed. Sitting up, she slowly picked up the plate and ate the toast, then drank the tea. Maybe I should just tell him, she thought, drinking the tea slowly. The worst he can do is say no, right? She shuddered. That was the worst he could say. Things would never be the same between them, and eventually he would leave. That alone would kill her. She set the plate down and stood up, pacing the room. Her body was sore, but she ignored it. There were more pressing issues that had to be dealt with, or she would never be able to be around him.

Bobby stared at the ceiling without turning the light on. It was probably a good thing that he wasn't home tonight. He would just settle himself on his couch with a bottle of scotch and drink away his pain, but that was the last thing he needed to do. So he just stared at the ceiling, his racing thoughts driving him further into the dark.

She paced for a while, then picked up the plate and carried it over to the door. Hesitating for a moment, she opened the door and slipped out of the room.

He heard her door open but he didn't react, except to drape his arm across his eyes. She wasn't likely to pay any attention to him, and he was fine with that. But he couldn't help listening for her and following her progress through the dark apartment with his sense of hearing.

She went into the kitchen and washed the dishes, then dried them and put them away. When she was finished, she made her way back into the living room and sat down in the recliner a few feet away from the couch.

He heard her sit down and he wondered what she was up to, but he didn't move and he didn't speak. He was tired of being snapped at and he couldn't take any more of that at the moment.

She pulled her knees up to her chest. "Bobby..." She thought for a long moment. "There was a reason why I left, and it's not what you're probably thinking."

He stayed where he was, waiting. If she wanted him to know, she would tell him.

"When we were... on the sidewalk... I realized something." She scrubbed her hand over her face. "And it scared me. But I'm beginning to think that it's a good thing."

He moved his arm and looked in her direction, confused. "What do you mean?" he asked tentatively.

She finally leaned forward in the chair, her hazel eyes focused completely on him. "I mean..." She took a shaky breath. "I mean that I care about you. Very much." But every time I try to talk to you about it, you get so damn scared and run away.

He continued to stare at her, his confusion still apparent. "I care about you, too, Eames."

She shook her head, but hesitated to join him on the couch. "No, not like that." She fell backward against the chair, her arm flung over her eyes. "I know you care about me. But... I love you."

He knew that she loved him; he loved her, too. He didn't get why it was suddenly an issue. "I love you, too, Eames. But...why would that freak you out?"

Her eyes widened. "B-Because...every time I try to talk to you, you just... close off."

His confusion deepened. "I...don't understand what you're talking about."

"I wanted to... talk to you about it at the diner, and at the hospital." Her eyes searched his, and she slowly stood up and sat down at the opposite end of the couch.

"What stopped you?"

She stared at the cushion between them. "Fear."

He sat up, his own misery forgotten. "Fear? What are you afraid of?"

He didn't think his partner was afraid of anything.

"I was... afraid of what you would say," she admitted quietly.

"Eames...you're not afraid to jump down my throat about things...I...I don't understand."

"This was different." She lifted her head. "It hit me...when I was driving. How stupid I was being." Her hand itched to reach out and touch him. "How much I love you."

His head was spinning and he wasn't following her. He had no answer for her. All he could do was stare at her vacantly.

She searched his eyes warily. "Bobby, say something..."

"I...don't understand." He was being redundant, but nothing else would come to him.

"Fine." She pulled away. "Understand this." She rested her hand on the back of his neck and dipped her head, brushing her lips against his. She didn't care anymore. If he was going to leave, then he was going to leave. But at least she would always have this.

When her lips brushed gently over his, his entire body tensed. What was she doing? Too stunned to react, he just sat there...until her lips pressed into his again, this time more firmly. She deepened the kiss and his brain shut down. Without the inhibitions of conscious thought to protest, he simply reacted to her, returning her kiss. His hand slipped around her and he drew her against his body, slipping his tongue past welcoming lips. She made his head spin and took his breath away.

She smiled at his eager reaction, and she slid one hand past his shirt. Her fears had been unfounded, and she should've known better than to think otherwise. His stubble came in contact with her soft skin, and she couldn't swallow a soft laugh.

"What?" he murmured against her mouth.

She shook her head. "Your beard. Don't you ever shave?"

"For you, I'll shave," he murmured with a smile, leaning in for another kiss and not allowing his brain to catch up with his body. There would be time for that later.

She grinned and caught his face in her hands, then kissed him again. Her entire body was on fire, but she didn't care. She loved the feeling. She tried to move closer, but she lost her balance and collapsed against him.

He wrapped his arms around her. "Uh...so...how hard did you hit your head?"

She grunted. "Pretty hard... That steering wheel isn't made of rubber, you know?"

He gently eased her to the couch beside him, turning toward her. "I need...I need you to think about this, Eames...about the ramifications of what you're suggesting. You know me...better than anyone does. You may be...flirting with disaster."

"I've thought about this, Bobby." She reached out and touched her hand to his cheek. "And I've thought about it some more. I'm not flirting with disaster. I'm making the smartest move of my entire life."

He looked down. "That's debatable," he murmured. He sighed softly. "But...it's your mistake to make." He raised his eyes to meet hers. "And mine to..." he trailed off, not wanting to sound like a jerk. "Never mind. Forgive me if I question your sanity, Eames."

"Bobby!" she snapped, her eyes burning.

"Face it, Eames. Being my partner has destroyed your career. Being my...lov..." He almost choked on the emotions that rose with that word. "Lover...could destroy your life."

She grabbed his face in her hands and stared him down. Gritting her teeth, she growled, "You are not a mistake. And if you ever call yourself that again..." She trailed off. "And you haven't destroyed my career. If I ever thought you were, or was superficial enough to care, I wouldn't have stayed for five years." He tried to look away, but she refused to let him retreat. "You are not a mistake, Goren. You never have been, and you never will be. Never. Do you understand me?"

He didn't answer because he didn't agree. He could not think of a single way she would benefit from the relationship she proposed. He didn't deny that he wanted her, but more than that, he wanted what was best for her. He would cherish her with all his heart, and yet, he could not rid himself of the fear that, sooner or later, he would become his father and break her heart.

"Bobby..." Her voice softened. His eyes took on a faraway look, and she kissed him briefly before rising to her feet. "I love you, Bobby. I do. But I'm tired. I've told you how I feel. Now it's all in your hands." She pointed to the bedroom. "I'm going to lay down. It's all up to you. Whatever you decide...I'll be here." She started toward the bedroom.

"Eames..."

She paused mid-step and turned her head. "What?"

"I'm sorry."

She smiled softly. "I know. I am, too."

He watched her leave the room. More than anything, he wanted to follow her, to slide into the bed beside her and love her forever. But he saw the mistake that would be, for both of them, even if she didn't. His desire to protect her overruled his desire to claim her. He sat on the couch, uncertain, and finally laid back against the arm, his mind and his body battling for supremacy, but neither was winning. He didn't know what to do...

She went quietly into the bedroom, but purposefully left the door open before she laid down in the bed. Her pounding head went back against the pillows, and she stared up at the ceiling. She could still feel his lips on hers, his hands on her skin, and no matter what, she would never be able to wash away the memories.

He couldn't say if he drifted off or not, but he was up two and a half hours later. He had to check on Eames. Regardless of his personal turmoil, he had a responsibility to her well-being. He walked down the hallway, surprised to find her door open. She never left it open when he spent the night. Remembering the heat she stirred in him when she kissed him, he struggled to calm his body and keep himself under control as he entered her room. "Eames?"

She stirred and groaned softly at the tentative voice. Forcing her eyes open, she muttered, "Yeah? I'm awake..."

"That's all I need to hear. Good night."

She was suddenly wide awake, and as his shadow disappeared, she hesitantly called out his name. "Bobby?"

He stopped in the hallway, but didn't return to the bedroom. "What is it, Eames?"

When he didn't walk back into the room, she let out a silent sigh. "Never mind." She burrowed down further into the blankets.

He hesitated, wanting to go to her but knowing what a huge mistake that would be. He returned to the couch.

She bit her lip as she heard him retreat to the living room. He loved her. But if he was really telling her the truth, why didn't he come into the room? She sighed. She shouldn't have said anything in the first place. But then again, she wasn't sure that she could have kept it a secret for much longer. Maybe he thought it was all a side affect of the concussion and was just humoring her. Maybe he figured she wouldn't remember any of it in the morning. She touched her fingertips to her lips as tears dripped down her cheeks. Sleep was beginning to beckon, and she fought it at first. But the pain, both emotional and physical, was something she needed to escape, if only for a few hours. She closed her eyes.

Another two restless hours passed, and he returned to her bedroom door. "Eames?"

She stirred reluctantly from her sleep. "What, Bobby?"

"I'm sorry I bothered you...go back to sleep." He felt guilty for waking her but he knew he had to. "S-sorry," he repeated, and he wasn't apologizing just for waking her.

She was half asleep, and she whispered, "Love you." Then she drifted off again.

He stood there for a long moment. "I'm sorry for that, too," he whispered. "But I love you, too."

Reluctantly he went back to the couch.

Two hours later, a disturbing dream forced Alex from her sleep, and she sat upright in the bed. Swinging her legs over the side of the mattress, she stood up wobbly and walked out of the room. In the dim light, she could make out Bobby's sleeping form on the couch, and for a brief moment, she was tempted to wake him. But she thought better of it, and instead headed into the kitchen for a glass of water.

He heard her moving around and got up. Still groggy with sleep, he stood in the doorway and watched her, and he felt guilty for his doubts. She was free of that kind of burden, but she didn't have the same demons he did.

She started when she heard him, and she turned to face him. "Sorry," she murmured. "I didn't mean to wake you up. I'm going back to bed in a minute."

"I had to get up to check on you anyway."

She nodded and finished the glass, then set it in the sink. "Well, I'm fine. I'm going back to bed now." She started to walk past him.

He reached out and grabbed her arm. Silently, he leaned over and softly kissed her. "I do love you," he whispered. "More than you will ever know."

Her arms went around his neck, and she leaned into him. "I love you, too..."

When her body pressed into his, he was done. His resolve crumbled and he drew her firmly against him, losing himself in a deep kiss. Unconsciously, he moved with her, not sure if he was leading or following, and not particularly caring. He aimed for the couch, but she had other plans and steered him down the hallway toward the bedroom. He offered no resistance. He loved her.

She led him into the bedroom, relieved when he seemed eager to follow her. She didn't bother turning the lights on as she pulled him down onto the bed and kissed him gently.

He groaned and gave himself over to her. Fighting it was useless. As strongly as he felt for her, knowing she felt the same...he slipped his hands beneath her shirt, determined to chase away the soreness from her muscles and the throbbing from her head. He knew how to make a woman forget everything, and that was what he did to her.

Her hands laid at her sides for several moments, until she finally got tired of being still and grabbed the bottom of his shirt. Kissing him softly to distract him, she untucked his shirt and slid her hands under the soft material.

His body trembled when her fingers began to caress him and he groaned into her mouth. "Oh, baby..."

She smirked and grabbed the front of his pants, then slowly undid the button and slid the zipper down.

He gasped and gently bit her lower lip. Struggling to maintain control, he murmured, "Are...you...sure...?"

"When have I ever been unsure?" she retorted, retaliating by rolling his pants off of his hips.

He was finished. There was no going back now. He was committed...and maybe in the morning he would question his sanity again...but for now, nothing mattered to him more than the woman beneath him as she teased his body and removed his clothes with agonizing slowness. He didn't have that kind of reserve, not with her. She was already naked and he was enjoying every inch of exposed skin more than he ever imagined he could.

She ran her hands over his shoulders, enjoying the view of his body. But she realized that she was hanging halfway off of the bed, and she groaned and wrapped her hands around his forearms. Pulling herself backwards, she whispered, "Come on."

Confused, he tripped over himself, in more ways than one. "Uh, where?"

She continued backwards until she was against the pillows. Then she held her arms out for him. "Here."

He finished pulling off his jeans and covered her with his body. She was more than ready for him, and he was anxious to accommodate her. It caused him a great deal of discomfort to continue slowly, so that she would benefit most from the hormones in her system to chase away her pain, but he would die for her. For a while, he thought he might.

Her arms went around his neck, and she buried her face in his neck as he slowly entered her. She never thought that she would have this with him, but now she did, and she was never going to let him go again. She didn't care what he said. She would chase his demons away permanently, no matter what it took.

He nipped and kissed her skin as he slowly moved inside her, stroking slowly for as long as he could, before he was compelled to move faster. His breath came in short pants and quiet groans as he struggled to hold back, waiting for her response.

She buried her hands in his hair and groaned softly, clinging to him as tightly as she could.

He shifted his position, to afford her a different angle of stimulation, and his tongue sought the soft and sensitive areas of her neck and behind her ears. His fingers teased her breasts and stroked her skin, and he got the response he was looking for.

"Damn, Goren," she breathed, shivering. "Where the hell did you learn that?"

"You...don't want to know," he answered, breathless but with a smile.

She snickered and continued to move against him, until she was standing on the edge of her own abyss. And with little prodding from him, she fell over and collapsed back against the pillows, trying to catch her breath.

Only then was he able to relax and give himself over to his own release. It was intense and powerful, and he pulled her tight against him as he came back from it. "Oh, my God," he whispered. "I...love you."

"I love you, too," she whispered, gently rubbing his shoulder. She brushed her lips against his, then his nose, and she smiled softly.

"Have we lost our minds?" he whispered as he stroked her skin, enjoying the shiver he drew from her.

"If we have, I don't want mine back."

"There's no going back," he murmured.

"Did I ever say I wanted to?" She snuggled closer to him.

Her fingers caressed his hip and he groaned. "If you keep that up," he warned. "You're asking for trouble."

"Maybe I like trouble..." She leaned over and kissed him.

"It's going to be coming your way, full steam, and this is your last warning. So if your head hurts, and you want to sleep, now is your chance, baby."

"Screw sleep." She gave that a thought. "No, I'd rather screw you."

He laughed, a husky sound, and turned into her, accepting her kisses and trying to bring her back to arousal before she got him there. He won...but only just barely.

TBC...

A/N: Well, did everyone enjoy that nice little smut scene? I know we enjoyed writing it. There are some twists and turns coming up in the next chapter, so please remember to review, and we'll post again soon.