The camp was still empty when she and Sazh returned. Snow was, undoubtedly, still at the lumber camp, working to get enough materials to help build shelters for families in need. Gadot was either with his friend there or with Yuj, Maqui, and the other members of the refugee camp that had signed up to patrol the outskirts for the more feral creatures. Lebreau and Dajh were still taking a nap.

Sazh commented that he hadn't had a free day in ages.

"I don't know how you can stand it," Lightning mumbled, grabbing one of the fish that Sazh had caught on the way back. She sat in front of a stump and brushed it off, flopping the fish on top before grabbing her dagger.

Sazh watched her gut it with mild amusement. "Try having kids. Or getting old," he added with a crooked smile. "I don't know which it is, but either way: your free time is holy."

With a swift pull she yanked off the fish's head, its innards trailing behind. She didn't really know what to say, so she shrugged and put her head down, working on removing the scales. Sazh, evidently determined to enjoy every moment he had, lay in the grass with his hands behind his head.

For some time they remained like that; Lightning gutting any meat she could find and Sazh dozing in the gentle sunlight. Despite the simplicity of the task, the repetitiveness became soothing and soon she got lost in its messiness, forgetting the events of the day with each tug. Slowly the face of Serah gazing up at her disappeared, along with the pain that Lightning felt at seeing that simple mask of nothingness on her sister's face. She had thought she was the only capable of throwing up walls like that, but she had underestimated her sister drastically.

She doubted it was the first time that had happened.

Sharpened metal slid underneath a blanket of scales, distancing herself from the memory of leaving Hope behind with his father. She'd been so used to rolling over on her side and seeing him there or taking a few steps over to another tent to see him that she couldn't even begin to fathom what her life would be like without him so close. She knew she had better start learning, but…

"He'll be back tomorrow, soldier."

She smiled a little at that. She could cross her fingers and pray for the best. If tomorrow came and she was still without her constant companion, well, she'd deal with it then.

Once finished she set aside her dagger and looked down. Her hands, bloodied and covered in gore, needed to be washed. She stood and made her way to the stream, dunking her hands in as soon as she got there. An old shirt she'd found had become her portable, makeshift washcloth and she pulled that out to finish wiping away the grime. Once cleaned, she pressed cool hands and even colder water to her face, scrubbing a little to help take the bite out of everything that had happened. She felt drained and light, all at once, and she didn't really understand it.

Was she relieved to see Serah's reaction to her? Was she thankful that she'd gotten that much out of the way? It had hurt, but not as badly as she had thought it would.

She remembered what Sazh said about everyone wanting her here, now, in the present with them. She couldn't guarantee she would stop searching for Serah, couldn't promise she'd stop seeking that forgiveness, but maybe she ought to try harder to be with the ones that were fighting to keep her close.

It wouldn't be easy for her to stay put while Serah was still out there, but nothing worth it was simple, right?

Serah was always strong. In a lot of ways, she was stronger than me.

Dull eyes glanced towards the creek below.

She dealt with mom and dad's death better than I did. She coped with life afterwards better than I did. She didn't need to be surrounded by action to keep her mind off things, and being alone never bothered her like it did me. She's tough. She'll be able to handle this. She...doesn't need me anymore.

Her reflection showed Lightning kneeling down at the water's edge, looking earnestly into the slowly flowing river, trying to capture the gaze of the woman underneath the surface.

Barthandelus' balls, I look awful.

Her hair was too long and was knotted from being whipped around from the wind. There were dark circles under her eyes that spoke of the sleepless nights she'd suffered through. The wound on her leg from those damned dogs still ached every now and again, her body was still trying to recover from the shock of Cocoon, and she was so thin that the sight of her made her want to throw up.

What does Snow see in me?

Fingers ran through her hair and tried to untangle it. It had been a long time since she gave a shit about her appearance, but she could at least take this small step to try.

Her eyes sidled back to where their huts were, then slid to the edges of camp that they sat so near to. All of the little chores around camp were finished, or at least the ones that she was inclined to do, and yet it was still too early for anyone to be back. She needed something to do and, unlike Sazh, dozing in the sun just wasn't going to cut it.

With a final, lingering glance at her reflection she noticed with a little bit of surprise that her hair had been tamed a bit – it actually looked nice.

She narrowed her eyes, bit at the inside of her cheek, and looked again at the outskirts.

Screw it.

In a motion she grabbed her gunblade, stood, and jogged over to the edge.

She really wanted to kill something.

Almost two hours later she walked into camp with a noticeable spring in her step, dragging a dead but still bleeding dog behind her. She hadn't realized how the past week of inaction had been bothering her, but once she had gone out and searched for an enemy she realized just how much the high of battle really meant to her. She might have learned a little bit about people and how to deal with them in her travels, but being a soldier was still her calling in life. This kind of stuff could make her day in the same way that people could ruin it.

Lebreau and Dajh had woken up from their slumber and, upon Lightning's bloody entrance, Lebreau gave a low whistle. "Damn, Farron." She gave an appreciative nod. "Usually it takes two people to down one that big."

Dajh ran over to her side and pulled on the sleeve of her free arm. "Did you kill it with your sword?" he asked, a little trace of awe in his voice. Lightning gave a small nod that made Dajh stop in his tracks. "Awesome," he whispered. He noticed the trail of blood Lightning was leaving behind and dipped the toe of his shoe into a little puddle of it, almost entranced.

She smirked.

Lebreau stood and grabbed at a small dagger that was in a pouch at her side. "I'll do it." She kneeled next to the carcass and, with expert precision, dug in.

Dajh's head snapped up to watch Lebreau, even more fascinated by this scene than the mess he was making at his feet.

Lebreau looked up at Dajh and then waved her crimson dagger around in the air. "You want to try?" Lebreau motioned for Dajh to join her. "Come on, it'll be fun!" she added when Dajh seemed to hesitate.

"So cool," he murmured. He literally skipped across the space between Lightning and Lebreau to join the barmaid in her machinations. Lightning, relieved that she wouldn't have to prepare another meal and wouldn't have to babysit to boot, gave a little salute of thanks and sat down on the ground in front of a stump to watch Dajh learn how to gut a canine.

Slowly the camp began to fill up as the sun neared setting. She realized with some surprise that she'd never been around to see everyone slowly trickle in – and everyone else seemed just as surprised by her being there. Awkward greetings were given all around by the old members of NORA that Lightning hadn't really seen since she'd gotten there, and only now did she understand that it must have seemed like she had been avoiding them.

I have to try now. No more excuses, Farron.

Yuj and Maqui had been the first to return. Seeing Maqui was a solid reminder of times long ago, when he and Serah had group projects to work on from school and he'd plod over to the Farron house because it was more fun to work there. He had always had a crush on Serah, it was plainly obvious, and because of it Lightning would be annoyed every time she got home and saw the two of them with their heads bent together in study.

Yuj was the dirty little rascal who she never wanted near her sister. She knew of his escapades around town – her job ensured she heard all the gossip – and even now she felt a tick of irritation when he gave her a calm, typical, and almost seductive "hello" in greeting.

I'm sure your good friend and fearless leader would really appreciate that you little twit.

Sazh trailed behind them by half a minute, muttering something under his breath; something about teenagers and girls and idiots. Her eyes shot to Yuj again, who was trying his best to act like Lightning wasn't there all of a sudden.

The night dragged on with the few NORA members present coming and going as they pleased. Few said much to her, aside from Lebreau, but she didn't really mind the silence. Seeing them here was reminding her of happier times in Bodhum, memories that she could appreciate despite the slight pang of sadness that came with each.

She suddenly remembered all the times she'd gone to Lebreau's bar for work parties. She could see Lebreau leaning against the counter, talking casually to each of the patrons – she had known everyone by name and knew intimate details about all their lives. On multiple occasions she'd tried to talk with Lightning, but since she wasn't one for small talk Lebreau would eventually sigh and walk away after yet another failed attempt.

The one time Lightning brought Serah with her, Lebreau had left her post to one of her workers and sat at the table with the two sisters while they ate a rare dinner out. Lightning hadn't appreciated the company then, and to this day she still didn't know what Lebreau had been thinking, but...

...but now that she thought about it, it would have been right around the time Serah and Snow had started dating. Of course Snow had probably introduced Serah to the rest of the gang. Of course Lebreau would have recognized her. Serah was easy to get along with, and she'd probably come over to get to know Serah better. She was, after all, the girlfriend of one of Lebreau's best friends.

Lightning's head fell into her hands.

Damn it.

Serah and Lebreau had talked so easily then to each other, like they'd been old pals despite having just met. Here Lightning had sat with the woman for hours and had barely made any conversation.

Maqui and Serah had been schoolmates. Study partners. He'd come over to their house all the time, and it was so easy to remember those two giggling and laughing amongst themselves while working on a project. Maqui hadn't said a word to her – in fact, every time their gazes caught he looked damn near terrified.

And Gadot...

Well, we all know how that one's going to play out.

She grunted to herself, suddenly feeling like the odd man out. Serah had been friends with all of these people, and it was Lightning's fault that she was gone. Everyone had probably gotten along famously before she came back, and now it was all awkwardness among them.

Damn it.

"Hey, Farron, try this."

This was Lebreau. As if she could sense Lightning's tumbling mood and darkening thoughts, she had jumped in to save the day. Lightning's head raised and looked towards Lebreau, a little confused until she saw some strange salad that was being offered to her. Lightning accepted it after a hesitated "thank you". Food was scarce around here and a salad like this was what a pair of people would eat over the course of two days.

Lightning looked back to Lebreau, who was smiling in a way that reminded her strongly of Vanille. "It's all yours." The smile turned into a wicked grin that resounded of Fang. "You're so skinny I can barely stand to look at you."

She grabbed at a fork being offered and picked at the contents in the bowl. "That's what I thought earlier when I saw myself," she admitted with a self-deprecating smile, hoping that it was enough to help build a bridge between the two women.

Judging from the hearty laugh that Lebreau gave, it seemed to have been a good start.

"What's so funny?" Gadot, who'd entered camp without Lightning's notice, threw himself onto the sideways log that Lebreau was using as a seat and nudged her quite hard. It didn't even seem to bother Lebreau, who nodded towards Lightning. He looked in the direction that Lebreau had motioned and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Lightning there. "Shit, man, I didn't know you were here..." His voice had gone up somewhere between two to three octaves and it was a little strained.

"Don't mind him," Lebreau cooed, reaching around Gadot's side and pinching him, hard. "He's still terrified of you, you know."

"Yeah," Sazh piped up, all grins, "every time your name gets mentioned he goes a little pale."

His normal intonation returned and he was all macho-man. "Screw that! I do not!"

Lightning leaned back and summoned enough willpower to make it seem like this wasn't as hard for her as it actually was. "Didn't Snow punch you in the face because of all that?" She asked with the most blank face she could muster.

Gadot blinked at her, seemingly taken off guard by her casual demeanor. "Yeah, actually, he did." Then, at the thought of it, Gadot puffed up a bit and started to look irritated. "Thanks for telling him, jackass." After swearing at her he regained his sheepish demeanor, but Lightning shrugged it off. The side of her mouth slowly pulled into a grin and, for the first time in a long time, she felt some of the confidence that she used to feel swell within her.

I'm trying.

Her eyes met with Sazh's. He was beaming at her.

"So I'm guessing Snow must have told everyone?" She tried to stifle the blush that the thought summoned and was close to successful.

Yuj gave her a sleazy smile. "He got a little too drunk one night and told us all about it. And then he punched Gadot in the face, yeah."

"Right." Oh gods just how much did he tell?

Lebreau hit Gadot's chest with her knuckle. "Lesson learned: never get drunk around this idiot. That includes you, Yuj," she shot him a glare when he started to laugh. "Your pretty little face would draw his attention right away..."

Lightning, for the most part, sat back and listened as the NORA gang began to argue lightheartedly amongst themselves. She felt herself smiling more often than she wasn't and noted that Sazh was mostly the same. Had Snow not arrived, shirtless, to the scene she doubted any of their antics would have ended.

His shirt and coat were hanging over his shoulder, padding the handle of the axe that he carried as he walked. His pants, surprisingly, lacked any holes or grass stains and she wondered where in the world he had managed to find them. She noticed that his he was drenched with sweat and she could smell his earthy manliness from here - not that it was bad, she added mentally.

His blue eyes first landed on Sazh, where they narrowed to ask a silent question. The old man gave a smile and a slight nod, and then Snow looked to Lightning, seeming a little confused and a little hopeful all at once. "Didn't expect to see you here," he said with a grin.

"She couldn't help but be drawn in by our sterling company," Gadot drawled, earning another smack from Lebreau.

Snow rolled his eyes and went inside to drop off his goods and grab a towel, emerging moments later with it draped over his shoulders. He started to mention a bath and laundry, but stopped mid-sentence and shrugged. Without saying anything further, he sat down on the stump directly behind Lightning and placed both his hands on her shoulder, pulling her back into his chest to place a quick kiss on her temple. The catcalls from everyone else in the group were infuriating, but Snow didn't even seem to care.

It seemed like the distance Lightning had purposefully put between them had instantaneously disappeared. Snow was easily running his fingers through her hair, talking animatedly with his friends, acting like all of this was completely normal and like it had happened every night since they first crash-landed here. For her part, Lightning wasn't really sure how to act at first but found that, after their first attempt at embarrassing them, the others had refrained from trying to make her blush. Finding that the attention wasn't on her was a relief, and seeing how casual the atmosphere had become was almost...relaxing.

Is this what it's like to be...normal?

Maybe this isn't so bad.

She smiled a little to herself when she finally understood what it was she had been avoiding for so long.

Without thinking about it too much she leaned back into Snow's chest and rested her head against the towel, using it as her personal pillow. She'd never really done anything like this before, but Gadot and Lebreau were doing something similar and it looked incredibly inviting and she was supposed to be trying and why the hell not?

She was stiff, and as soon as her body made contact with Snow's she could feel him stiffen, too. Her gaze flitted upwards in time to see him smile softly at nothing in particular, and then his arm wrapped around her chest in a half-hug.

The rest of the night carried on like that, with everyone talking and joking loudly amongst themselves. She eventually got used to their volume and their antics, so much so that, towards the end of the night, she decided to attempt to participate in a few conversations. She told some stories from her days in the GC that got everyone to laugh, which was a considerable feat when she thought about what a terrible storyteller she was.

She noticed, too, that every time she took part in conversation Snow would give her a small, reassuring little squeeze from behind.

It wasn't until the moon was high in the night sky that people started to separate to head to bed. First was Lebreau and Maqui, followed soon after by Yuj. Sazh went with Dajh to put him down but the old man never came back out, and eventually Gadot stood too. He made to leave, but stopped mid-step to scratch his neck. "Farron?" He looked back at Snow first, and then down at her. "It was nice talking with ya. You should join us more, you know?" He gave an awkward smile and a sheepish wave goodbye.

I should join them more, huh?

Gadot's absence left Snow and Lightning alone. Her back was still pressed to his bare chest but now she was content with feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. They sat in a comfortable silence while his fingers continued to rake through her hair. "I'm out of shirts," he said finally, heaving a sigh that moved her body, too. "I've gotta go wash them. You should head to bed," he added softly, though there was a deeper tone to it that she couldn't quite translate.

She heaved herself up and turned to help Snow, who accepted her outstretched hand willingly. She added an extra tug at the end just to be an ass, but it pulled his face distractingly close to hers.

She realized that she hadn't kissed him since their reunion.

Snow gave her a wavering, uncertain grin before he took an awkward step back towards his tent. She knew from a brief conversation she and Sazh had on the way back that he was afraid to make a move: he was afraid he'd tread over a very obvious boundary that she had placed, and she couldn't blame him for his hesitation. This was her fault, and he was just trying to be mindful of the delicate situation she'd put them in.

All their time apart didn't seem to be totally erased after all.

A moment later he appeared by her with a handful of clothes and a promise to be back soon. Lightning nodded and, with a sigh, walked into the hut that the two of them shared. She pressed her back against the rolling planes of the log wall, tilting her head up in thought. Crazy ideas were flooding her mind; crazy ideas on how to remedy the situation that she had created. For awhile she had been foolish enough to believe that everything had been washed away, that her actions over the past week hadn't had any consequences, but that was just Snow showing her that he wasn't mad, right?

Way to go, Lightning. You screwed up again.

She chuckled darkly at the thought. Was there ever a time she hadn't screwed up? She fought to save Serah only to lose her; fought to protect Hope just to watch him grow up and leave her, fought to save the people who tried to kill her just to destroy the planet and two-thirds of its population...

No.

She curled her hands into fists.

Not this again. I won't doubt myself. I'm not going to lose it.

I can fix this. It will get better.

I have to try.

Hope was only an hour away, trying to make up with his father because she had demanded it. He had claimed he wasn't ready to meet him yet and she'd argued with him for days until he finally gave in and allowed her to guide him to the Estheim hut near the center of the camp.

Cocoon was doomed to be destroyed from the very beginning, and if it hadn't been them then someone else would have done it later.

And Serah…

Well, that one was her fault, wasn't it?

Then again, she'd be out of my reach no matter what option I chose.

She pressed her hands to her face, groaning quietly to herself in aggravation.

Why did she bother? It was a fight she'd never win with herself.

With a grunt she threw all her weight forward, forcing herself away from the wall and willing her thoughts to stay behind. It took some effort, but she managed to push all the events of the morning as far from the front of her mind as possible while she leaned down and gathered her blanket into her hands, throwing it around her shoulders and slumping to the ground in the most ungraceful manner possible.

The morning needed to be left behind, forgotten in the dust to never be recalled again.

She lay on the floor and stared up at the ceiling, still trying to keep all her self-loathing at bay, but it was so much more difficult when she was on her own. Serah kept popping into her mind, her lithe figure dancing at the edges of her memory and trying to claim her attention. It took every ounce of strength she had to roll over and shove the thoughts away, and she felt like she betrayed Serah again when she did it.

I'm sorry, but I have to try. You're strong, but I'm not. I have to do this. I need this.

She sighed.

Once I fix myself and all the messes I've made here, I'll try and find a way to fix things with you. First, though...

She glanced towards the door.

Where the hell is Snow?

No sooner had she thought it he walked into the hut, his hair glistening wet and a pile of freshly laundered and squeezed-dry shirts in his hands. His towel was where it was before, and his towel-dried hair was sticking up in such a way that it looked like a chocobo's tail feathers. He had walked in humming but a quick glance her way silenced him - he apparently believed her to be asleep.

She eyed him with some appreciation under the cover of night, and he was none the wiser.

Darkened eyes tracked him while he moved quietly around the hut, doing his best to muffle his steps. He walked to the clothesline at the very back and threw his work clothes over it, pinning them up to fully dry through the following day. She watched his muscles tense and flex with each motion, watched the ripple of movement pass across his chest and through his arms with each action. The swell of his biceps was wonderfully distracting and, with a sudden start, she noticed the small trail of blonde hair that led a path downwards from his navel.

I…never noticed that before.

How many times had she seen him without his shirt?

A fair few.

How had she missed that?

...I never looked. I was always afraid to.

Her heartbeat quickened in her chest; the thoughts that had plagued her were beginning to ebb.

Practiced strength steadied her arms beneath her and held her body weight; studied grace helped her bound soundlessly to her feet. She knew she looked ridiculous in her stolen pants and borrowed shirt, but she hardly cared. Padded steps led her to stand behind Snow, still working on hanging up his fresh laundry, still unaware that the woman he believed to be asleep was more than wide awake.

I can fix this. I have to.

A hand reached out and touched his shoulder. He tensed, for a moment, before he visibly relaxed again. "I thought you were asleep," he said, a soft chuckle floating through the night air as he hung up the third, and final, undershirt.

"No. I wasn't asleep."

"Thinking again?"

She jutted her jaw to the side and didn't answer. She'd had enough sleepless nights already; he knew that as well as she did and knew the reasons why just as well as her.

He wiped his hands against the soft fabric of his pants before turning around. His eyebrows were arched high, like he expected her to say something, to talk like they'd been talking every night since she got here.

Talking without touching, so close and yet so far.

Both of her hands came to rest on his bare chest. His skin was cool to the touch, still a little damp from his bath, and the muscles beneath were hard as rocks. She could appreciate his strength all on its own, apart from his good looks, but right now her eyes were still looking down at that golden path that she'd never known existed.

"Are you okay?"

There was a moment where she didn't answer. "I'm done running," she said quietly, her fingers flexing against his skin. These people want to be near me, Sazh had said. She met his gaze. "I want to fix all the things that I've been wrecking. I know that's a long list, but..." she shook her head a little. "I want to start with you."

"You haven't wrecked anything." The tenderness in his voice was almost overwhelming, and again she found herself wishing that he'd at least be a little bitter towards her - she wanted his emotions to match the guilt she felt. His hand reached out and touched her cheek gingerly, obviously remembering the past week far better than she first hoped.

She shook her head again. "No, Snow. What I've been doing..." she trailed off.

I'm tired of talking. I'm tired of thinking. I've never been good at anything other than doing.

She wasn't going to drown in her regrets, her doubts, her fears anymore. She was going to take a page from Snow's book and charge in, headfirst, and deal with everything that came her way. She was going to fix all the wrongs in her life and show the people around her that she was worthy of their affections, that she could be relied upon at any time, that she'd be there when they needed her.

She would show them what being her family meant to her.

Fingers, as delicate as they were strong, traced the lines of his muscles up towards his shoulders. Calloused fingertips brushed down his arms until they reached his hands. "I'm going to start with you," she reiterated softly, firmly. Her eyes flickered up and noticed that Snow's hooded gaze was fixed on her, watching her with careful apprehension and…and something else. Whatever it was made her bite her lip and glance back down.

Her palms pushed against his stomach, hard and flat, urging him through the line of laundry. Not once did he try to resist. Careful steps took him backwards until his back pressed against the wall. His hands had dropped to her waist but he made not other movement for now. Darkened eyes, calculating and hot, rested on her, waiting for her next move.

A shadow of pink threatened to pull her away from this moment, away from the memory she was trying so hard to make happen. As if to remind herself of where she was and what she was fighting so hard for, she pressed her hands more firmly into his abs. Slowly, she raised herself onto her toes to press her lips against his.

A muffled gasp, a quiet moan; she didn't know who it belonged to, but it escaped from one of their mouths involuntarily.

Ever since that first night she had kept him at a safe distance, punishing herself for the wrongs she had committed. She'd kept him at a distance because she thought she didn't deserve the happiness and lightness that his proximity would bring.

Now the distance had been completely broken. Snow's hands came to rest on the small of her back, pressing her more firmly against him and deepening their kiss at the same time. Her hands broke away from his abdomen and now were entwined in the long, golden locks of his hair that were glued to his jaw and neck. Slowly, slowly but surely, his hands snaked under her sweater and climbed higher, exploring every inch of her back as it was revealed to him. She felt him trace over scars that had been there for years, scars that were fresh from their recent battles, scars that she never imagined anyone knowing about but her. His fingers came to the border of her bra and skin and paused there.

With little warning he lost patience with the pace that he had set. Snow jerked his hands down and reached for the hem of her shirt, tugging up violently, ripping it over her head and tossing it into a corner where everything seemed to go to die. She didn't realize that the sudden intake of breath was hers but she did hear Snow's devilish chuckle as he closed the gap between them again. His forehead was pressed against hers while he looked down at her body, his hands pressing hard into her as they followed her curves in admiration, passing over every exposed inch of skin once, twice, committing it all to memory in case this never happened again.

He was in his own world, totally enraptured by what was in front of him.

Something in her felt like it broke: suddenly all she wanted was to feel his body against hers, feel how fast he had could heat up and smile because she knew it was her that caused it to happen. She pulled his face down and, starting at his jaw, traced a fiery line of kisses back to his lips. Their bare skin brushing against each other sent bolts of energy through her veins and a shot of courage into her porcelain heart. Deft fingers inched down to the waist of his pants, teasing the edges, and she was rewarded with a throaty growl and a nip at her bottom lip. She smiled, felt him smile too, before he teased her mouth open so he could explore and taste her with abandon.

She got lost in his kiss, got lost in the passion that consumed them both. She had thought of him for the weeks they were separated, wanted to get lost in the swirling emotions that he felt, in the emotions that he conjured up in her. This fire, this want, was something she never would have thought was possible for a woman like her, and yet here she was getting so caught up in it that she forgot to be nervous for what she knew was coming.

Instinct, it seemed, guided Snow's hands behind Lightning's back to find the clasps to the last thing that retained some semblance of her modesty. She could feel herself blush as he expertly undid the binding, felt her face erupt in embarrassment as he guided the straps down her shoulders, past her elbows, over her wrists and down to the floor.

Suddenly he pushed her away from him and she felt his eyes rake over her naked torso. She felt like he was looking at her and through her, and all the aspects of her self that she had never cared to think about were being openly admired. A pleased, haughty smirk inched across her lips when she heard the soft, strained moan that escaped his mouth as he looked at her; at the way his fingers grasped her biceps as if he was trying to support himself. "Enjoying yourself, Villiers?" she asked, surprised by the hoarseness of her own voice.

Eyes that burned with desire shot up towards hers. She saw the simmering want boiling underneath, the months of restraint and patience that were about to break, and the words that were coming stopped short in her throat. "I am," he responded, his voice husky, his hands wrapping themselves in her hair. "Too much, maybe," he added, pressing a hot kiss against the pulsating artery in her neck. She felt him bite at the soft skin there, felt slightly chapped lips drag up to her ear, felt the nibble against her earlobe. "If you don't want this, you need to stop me. Soon." His words were a hot stream of whispers that made her shiver.

The only thing she knew to do to answer was press her body tight to him, her hands trailing over his ribs while she kissed his shoulder. "I do."

Next thing she knew she was on the floor and had no recollection of how she had gotten there. His coat had become a pillow and two blankets were beneath them for comfort. She felt hot kisses everywhere, from her neck to her collarbone to her navel and then her breast. The parts of her that she didn't know could cry out were screaming to be noticed by him, and he never failed to deliver.

But she missed the warmth of his skin and the feel of his lips on hers, so she pulled his mouth back to her own and resumed from the point she last recalled.

Best repair ever.

She grinned at the thought, and when Snow pulled away to look at her in puzzlement she just shook her head. He gave a lazy, lopsided smile; drunk on his own lust; and buried his head into her neck while his hands began to work on her pants.

Whatever hesitations she may have had, whatever the doubts about their relationship, the feelings of inadequacy and the insecurities she harbored about herself, they all disappeared the moment they joined together. For the first time that she could ever remember, she finally felt like she fit somewhere, like she'd found her place, and she didn't want to run from there ever again.

The moment came where they gave their all to each other and both of their names were gasped from the others lips: it hadn't been Serah's name called out by him, like some inner demon feared, but hers.

Claire.