Alternate Scene #2: Maddie finally lets herself say those words.

Her fingers are softly tracing his naked skin, and he wonders if he'll ever get used to that feeling, used to the way her hands move across his chest, along his body, so gently, so gracious, like she cares what he feels when she does it, the raw deal nonexistent when it comes to her, to her and him.

She always makes sure it's a two way street, an even playing field, at the end of the day it's however you choose to put it, but he appreciates that.

A girl, a woman, like her, has never really showed him so much attention before, and it's kind of a sad thing, that he's afraid to get too comfortable. He is though.

Slowly, little by little, as he falls more in love with her, he's getting all the more comfortable, naked in her presence, and feeling things, related to being naked, that are all, completely, unapologetically, one-hundred percent himself.

"I love you," he murmurs, kissing her head and she sighs heavily.

He hopes it's not making her feel upset, upset at him, upset at herself, for not being able to say the words yet, but hopefully she will because, well, she has to, right? At some point?

He tries not to harp on it, harp on the fact that the words themselves actually do mean something to him, and it's not that they don't to her, it's just...different. They're different for her.

They might mean different things, but they don't feel like different things. They're the same in every language. He knows that she feels those things consistent with the words, but on some level, one day, he's not sure that will be quite enough.

He's not going to let today be that day, and he's most certainly not going to fixate on a day that may be the last.

"I love you, sweetheart."

He's not sure repeating himself is the way to go, but he doesn't use her name, not now, because using her name might feel like he's being forceful, and that's the last thing he wants to be. He just wants her to know, right now.

"I know," she says to him, her voice sated with sex and impending sleep and there's a pause, a long one, before she says anything; so long he figured she'd fallen asleep, so when she said those words, his lips were in her hair and his breaths, they matched hers.

"I love you. I - I love you too, Howie."

And it's not how she'd said it the day of the hostage, void of any actual emotion, and it's a wonder how he believed for a minute, at a time, that she'd meant it then. That it was anything else but just words, words that held a different kind of message, still, for him. It's different, than that.

Her voice is a little teary, a little bit louder in the dark, but still, soft, and he knows it's taken a lot for her to say the words, how she's baring her soul to him like this, but he knows somehow that she's ready.

She looks up at him and her eyes are bright, and he hates to think that maybe they're bright from tears, but he hopes they're at least happy ones. He knows they are when she smiles.

"I love you."

"Are you sure you're not saying that just because of the sex?"

He's joking, of course he is, but she smiles bigger, and even though he can't really see it, her eyes are crinkling at the corners, too. It's one of his favourite things about her. Her smile.

Even though he's not religious, he prays that their children have her smile, assuming they have kids. They still seem to be in the maybe category.

If they do decide to have them, to try for them, he likes the fact that they'll be having lots of sex. Really likes it. Because their sex is so good. It's amazing. It ignites every room. Every piece of them.

He's never had sex like this. He hopes he never has to go back. He wants to marry this woman. Love this woman, forever. Not just the sex. Obviously. And that's if she'll have him. He hopes that she will, one day. They're on the right path, now, at least.

"No, you idiot."

She slaps his chest, traces his tattoos, carefully, and her fingers are burning him all of the sudden, burning like the ink had, going in.

But it's a feeling he desires, wants more of, and he puts his hand on her chest, bare, completely, totally, bare, and presses his palm against her, then, a careful kneading motion. She sighs, then moans, kisses him.

"Our sex is pretty amazing, definitely, but it's not why I'm saying this now. I just - I can see it in your face, Howie."

She pulls back from him, takes the hand that's touching her in her own and looks at him. Almost stares at him, but it's nothing except sentimental.

"I know you need to hear it. And I feel like I'm taking something from you, in a way."

"You're not." Chimney says that instantly, no hesitation. He can't afford to hesitate. She'll see right through him then. She might still. They've been together awhile.

"I am. Don't be a hero. Not with me, not tonight."

He nods at her as she runs her fingers through his hair, her other hand cupping his chin, feeling around his stubble.

I'm glad you're finally able to say it to me. As long as you're ready. As long as you feel good about it, I feel good about it, Maddie. Okay?" She nods too.

"Okay," she whispers, still gazing at him, and even though she can see it in her eyes, he wants her to say it again.

To never stop saying it. Because that means he can say it each and every time he feels it, and not feel guilty.

"I love you. I love you. I love you."

He chuckles. "A little overkill, Mads."

"No." She kisses him. "It's not."

She says the words against his lips and he smiles as she's kissing him, as he's kissing her, as they're kissing each other, and asks just how much.

She laughs and pushes him flush against the bed, climbing on top of him. Oh, he definitely has an idea of just how much, but it looks like she's going to show him anyway.

He's not going to stop her; he would never stop her. Ever.

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