Title: A Buttefly In Japan
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Chaos Theory, though if you read it, not much about the ep will be spoiled for you.
This is Carby fluff.
Archive: I'd love it, but send me an email first, please.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. If I did, would I REALLY be writing fanfic?
You know, Carter's a great guy. The best, really. But sometimes he has the tendency to talk too
much. Take right now, for example. Here we are, finally out of the hospital, standing on the
edge of a lake, and all he can do is talk. True, he's talking about us, but still...too much talking.
What is it he's saying now?
"I'm just saying there's a risk in anything you do, right? But don't you wanna stack the odds in
your favor? I mean, I'm drawn to you. It's kinda that simple. I've been drawn to you for two
years, but chaos always seems to rule and I don't want it to rule. I wanna know where it's taking
me."
He's so adorable. He's trying to make a rock skip on the lake. It doesn't really work,
considering the waves, but it was a noble effort. Meanwhile, I finally decide that I need to do
something about the heat, so I unzip my jeans and shove them and my underwear down my legs.
I stand up and start to pull my shirt over my head as Carter turns around and says, "Know what I
mean?"
Chaos. I'll give him chaos, all right.
"Nope," I answer, look at him, then dash into the water. I finally surface and turn around to look
at him once more. "Are you coming in?"
Yep–he's adorable, all right. He just stands there for a few moments, looking at me in wonder.
What? I said I was hot. "Trying to catch flies?" I ask him.
I suppose that snaps him out of his reverie because all of a sudden he's pulling off his clothes and
running into the water. He's swimming towards me, so what do I do? I dip back underwater and
swim a little ways from him, toying with him. It's fun, and I know he enjoys the chase.
When I come up for air, I spot him about a hundred yards away, facing the opposite direction,
looking at the water intently, trying to spot me.
"Hey, sexy," I call out, enjoying seeing him start and whip around. "Looking for something?"
"You know," he answers as he swims in my direction. "It's not really fair to taunt a guy like this
and then swim away. I'd go so far as to say it's just plain cruel."
I smile at him. "I'm not swimming away now, am I?"
He finally reaches me and I wrap my arms around neck, letting him do all the work for us. "Why
do I have the feeling that things will never be dull with you, Abigail?"
"That's because I'm a ball of pure excitement. I wouldn't recommend calling me Abigail on a
regular basis, though."
"Oh, yeah? And why's that?"
I shrug. "It's a little too prim and proper for a girl like me. Besides, my mother always called me
Abigail when I was bad."
Carter chuckles at me. "You, bad? Perish the thought!" He leans in and gives me a gentle kiss
on the lips. God, can this man kiss. I don't know how I've managed to go this long without
kissing him. It feels like heaven. He is one talented man. The only bad part about kissing him is
that we have to stop once in a while. Damn oxygen. "Mind if we move this closer to shore? My
arms are getting a little tired of treading for two."
"Oh, come on, Carter," I say as I unravel myself from him. "Be a man." With that, I swim away
from him, back toward the shore. I don't even realize that he's not behind me until I see him pop
up a couple of feet in front of me, finally able to stand. I hadn't realized he was that good of a
swimmer. I'll have to keep my eyes on him.
"'Be a man?'" he asks. "I'll show you a man."
"Oooh. I'm sooo scared of big, bad John Carter."
He reaches out and grabs my arm, pulling me close. "I'm really not intending to even pretend to
be scary. I'm kind of searching for maybe enticing you."
"Carter, trust me. You've been enticing me for quite some time now." This time, I lean in to kiss
him, which I think he kind of likes because, so far, he's generally been the one to instigate kissing.
I can't exactly explain why he's the one; I guess maybe, deep down, I'm really an old fashioned
girl who likes to be wooed. I know, I know–Abby Lockhart likes to be wooed? It's a strange
concept, but I think it's probably the truth.
We stay in the water, essentially making out, for quite some time. I don't know exactly how long
because, well, when I'm kissing John Carter, I don't really care how much time passes. I really
only focus on him. But, I do finally realize that the sun is getting higher in the sky, and it occurs
to me that if we don't leave soon, we'll be putting on a free show for anyone who decides to they
want to have a nice day at the beach. So, I reluctantly pull my lips away from his.
"How about me move this somewhere more private?" I ask him.
"Sounds like a plan to me," he answers, starting the swim to shore. "Your place or mine?"
We emerge from the lake a moment later, and rush over to our clothes, trying to dress as quickly
as possible. "Well, as tempting as it sounds to go back to your house and have sex just down the
hall from your grandmother, I think we should take this party to my place." I can't seem to get
my jeans up. I always forget how incredibly hard it is to put on jeans while wet. "Stupid pants," I
mutter, finally getting them up my legs and over my hips. Close enough for government work.
We're walking back toward his Jeep before he finally speaks again. "You know, I don't live with
Gamma anymore."
My eyes widen with surprise and I look over at him. "What?"
He nods slowly. "Yeah. I finally decided it was time to get a place of my own. Again, I mean."
"When did this happen?"
He shrugs. "I don't know. About a month ago, I guess."
"And why is this the first time I've heard about it?"
He grins at me–that damn, adorable grin that I couldn't resist even if I wanted to. "Well, it
doesn't exactly come up in conversation a whole lot. And how could I bring it up without it
sounding like I was coming on to you?"
I can't help but laugh a little. It's true. It would have sounded like a come on if he had just
randomly blurted out that he had his own apartment. Not that I would have been against him
coming on to me. I quite enjoy flirting with him. It's fun.
We finally reach his car and settle in for the journey. "Let's go to your place, then. I haven't seen
it yet, and it needs to be christened."
"What makes you think it hasn't?" he asks me, pulling out of the parking and onto the street.
I just give him a look. "Are you trying to tell me that you've been bringing girls back to your
place? In the past month? When two of those four weeks have been spent almost entirely with
me at the hospital, and the other two were...well, they were actually spent at the hospital, or
hanging out with after work. Come on, John."
"Can't take a little teasing, Miss Lockhart?"
"Oh, I can take teasing," I tell him. "It's just that I live in the little place called Reality, and I
know you haven't been making any booty calls lately."
He gives me a mock-offended look. "And how would you know that?"
"Because you've been pining away for me for quite some time now."
He lets out a snort of laughter. "Pining? I don't know if I'd go that–"
"Just the same as I've been waiting around for you for a while, too," I concede.
"Fair enough." I see him look at me out the corner of his eye. "Pining..." he mutters, teasingly.
Before long, he pulls into the parking lot of an apartment complex. Nice place, from the looks of
it. Of course, I really wouldn't expect anything else from Carter. It doesn't seem like it's that far
from my place, either, so that'll be convenient.
"This is it," he tells me, getting out of the car and grabbing his bag from the back. "My humble
abode." Before I have a chance to even open the door, there he is, opening it for me. Such a
gentleman. "After you, mademoiselle."
Together, we make our way inside the building and to the elevator bank. As we're waiting for an
elevator to arrive, I check out the lobby. The lobby. Definitely a nice place. "This is pretty
swank looking, Carter. It must be costing you a bundle."
"Actually," he says as we step into an elevator and he hits the button for the fifth floor. "It's
pretty affordable. I got really lucky and found a place just as it was opening up. I came down
here, looked at it, and signed the papers that day. It was too nice to pass up."
A moment later, we're heading down the hallway and we stop in front of apartment 503. As he
unlocks the door, he looks down at me and waggles his eyebrows. "Want me to carry you over
the threshold."
I let out a little snort. "Try it and see what happens."
"Oooh, a challenge!" But he apparently decides not to risk it and instead opens the door for me.
I can't help but look around in amazement. Basically, he's been here for two weeks, but the place
is already completely furnished and decorated. Aside from a little bit of dust that has collected
over the past fourteen days, it's immaculate. It's huge, too. It actually looks way too big for one
person. As I think that, another thought flashes through my mind–maybe he wasn't planning on
just one person living here when decided to rent it. I quickly push that thought of my mind; I care
about Carter, a lot, but it's just way too soon to be thinking about things like that.
"So, tell me about it, Carter."
He just shrugs, walking over to the couch and tossing his bag down on it. "Just your basic
apartment, I suppose. Living room, kitchen, bathroom–with a shower stall and a bathtub,
personal washer and dryer, and two bedrooms."
"You call that basic?" I ask, wandering around the living room. My apartment building doesn't
even have community washer and dryers. They make us go to the laundromat."
"Well, you're welcome to come over here and do laundry, if you'd like," he comes up behind me,
wrapping his arms around my waist, kissing my neck. I love it when he does that. Kiss my neck,
I mean. He does it so well. Seriously, he is a highly skilled kisser.
I almost let myself get caught up in the moment, which isn't hard to do when John Carter is
kissing you, believe me, before I realize that I have nasty lake water all over me. "Mind if I use
your shower?" I manage to ask, though it's in a voice that I really don't recognize. It's about an
octave lower than usual, and it almost sounds like a purr.
"Aww, Abby," he whines. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"
"Yeah, I know. But I really need to take a shower, and it'll only take me a few minutes. Do you
mind?"
"Of course not. Knock yourself out. Call me if you need any help."
I just throw a grin at him over my shoulder as I walk down the hallway. The door to the
bathroom is open, so I'm saved the trouble of asking him where it is. I shut the door behind me
and look around. Even the bathroom in this place is nice. I think I'm going to be spending a lot
of time here.
I adjust the water temperature and step under the spray. I use his soap and shampoo, figuring
we've exchanged bodily fluids, so why not? Within five minutes, I'm finished, but I realize that I
haven't really planned ahead. All of my clothes are out in the living room, and, really, I don't plan
on wearing any clothes in the near future, so it's kind of a waste. I finally spot a couple of towels
hanging on a rack, and wrap one around myself. It's quite massive, and it feels like it's brand
new. Of course, knowing Carter, it probably is.
I wander out into the living room, but find no one there. I hear noises coming from the kitchen,
and find Carter standing at the counter, eating a bowl of cereal. He grins at me cheekily. "Did I
say you could use my towels."
"Do you think I'm afraid of walking around naked?" I counter.
He puts the bowl in the sink, then crosses his arms over his chest. "Go ahead. I dare you."
Choosing to ignore that dare, I walk over to him, lean up and give him a quick kiss. "Do you
have a bathrobe I can borrow?"
He nods, leading me into his bedroom. He opens the closet door and pulls out a soft, dark blue
checked, worn-in cotton robe. "My favorite robe for my favorite girl."
"I'm touched," I tell him dryly. "Really, I am." Though, actually, I kind of am. Judging by the
way it feels, he's had it forever. I wrap it around my body and it makes me feel like I'm
surrounded by him. It sounds unbelievably mushy and romantic, but I can't help it. I like the guy,
and the thought of being surrounded by him doesn't disturb me in the slightest. I let the towel
drop to the floor as I tighten the sash around my waist. I know he's staring at me, but I don't
really mind. If he wants to look at me, so be it.
He snaps himself out of his trance and says, "I'm going to take a shower, too. I'll be back in two
shakes of a lamb's tail."
I actually laugh out loud at that one. "Sure, Carter." He walks into the bathroom, which is
conveniently connected to his bedroom. "Hey!" I call after him, waiting until he pokes his head
back into the bedroom.
"Yes?" he asks.
I pull his robe open and flash him for a couple of seconds. "Don't forget about me," I tell him,
winking. I tighten the robe once more and head out into the living room to dig my brush out of
my bag. A moment later I hear the water start, and I drift off in my thoughts, absently brushing
my hair while staring out the window. I nearly jump out of my skin when I feel Carter nibbling on
my ear.
He laughs a little at my reaction. "Sorry," he tells me, but doesn't stop nibbling. The bastard. I
know he's not sorry. He likes to catch me off-guard just as much as I like to do the same to him.
He gently grabs my arm and pulls me back toward his bedroom, and I notice that he's wearing
nothing but a towel. It's a good look for him. He should try it more often. On the other hand, if
he did that, then I'd have to beat all the other women off of him. Of course, I'll probably have to
do that anyway. "I want to show you just how much I didn't forget about you." He leans down
and hungrily kisses me.
"No, I think you forgot all about me. And now you have to make it up to me," I mumble against
his lips, wasting no time in taking off his towel, just as he is eagerly pulling off the robe.
"Potato, Potahto," he responds before I push him down onto his bed.
"You talk too much, Carter."
So, here we are a few hours later, lying together in his large, unbelievably comfortable bed. Right
now, I can barely keep my eyes open, and I think he's having the same problem. I should just let
myself go to sleep, but I can't bring myself to yet. I like watching him like this. And part of me
still can't believe that I'm here with him. I guess I'm worried that if I go to sleep, when I wake
up, it'll all be a dream. I stroke his hair, and kiss his forehead, and pull him closer to me. I hope
it's always like this. I can seriously see myself with him for a long time, and I hope that we're
always this giddy and happy with each other. I hope that we–
"I may talk too much, Abby, but you think too much. Go to sleep," he mumbles.
Killjoy. I grab a spare pillow and whack him over the head. "Shut up, Carter."
I feel him grin against my breastbone, then sigh as he finally drifts off. I finally let my eyes close,
and follow him into sleep.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Chaos Theory, though if you read it, not much about the ep will be spoiled for you.
This is Carby fluff.
Archive: I'd love it, but send me an email first, please.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. If I did, would I REALLY be writing fanfic?
You know, Carter's a great guy. The best, really. But sometimes he has the tendency to talk too
much. Take right now, for example. Here we are, finally out of the hospital, standing on the
edge of a lake, and all he can do is talk. True, he's talking about us, but still...too much talking.
What is it he's saying now?
"I'm just saying there's a risk in anything you do, right? But don't you wanna stack the odds in
your favor? I mean, I'm drawn to you. It's kinda that simple. I've been drawn to you for two
years, but chaos always seems to rule and I don't want it to rule. I wanna know where it's taking
me."
He's so adorable. He's trying to make a rock skip on the lake. It doesn't really work,
considering the waves, but it was a noble effort. Meanwhile, I finally decide that I need to do
something about the heat, so I unzip my jeans and shove them and my underwear down my legs.
I stand up and start to pull my shirt over my head as Carter turns around and says, "Know what I
mean?"
Chaos. I'll give him chaos, all right.
"Nope," I answer, look at him, then dash into the water. I finally surface and turn around to look
at him once more. "Are you coming in?"
Yep–he's adorable, all right. He just stands there for a few moments, looking at me in wonder.
What? I said I was hot. "Trying to catch flies?" I ask him.
I suppose that snaps him out of his reverie because all of a sudden he's pulling off his clothes and
running into the water. He's swimming towards me, so what do I do? I dip back underwater and
swim a little ways from him, toying with him. It's fun, and I know he enjoys the chase.
When I come up for air, I spot him about a hundred yards away, facing the opposite direction,
looking at the water intently, trying to spot me.
"Hey, sexy," I call out, enjoying seeing him start and whip around. "Looking for something?"
"You know," he answers as he swims in my direction. "It's not really fair to taunt a guy like this
and then swim away. I'd go so far as to say it's just plain cruel."
I smile at him. "I'm not swimming away now, am I?"
He finally reaches me and I wrap my arms around neck, letting him do all the work for us. "Why
do I have the feeling that things will never be dull with you, Abigail?"
"That's because I'm a ball of pure excitement. I wouldn't recommend calling me Abigail on a
regular basis, though."
"Oh, yeah? And why's that?"
I shrug. "It's a little too prim and proper for a girl like me. Besides, my mother always called me
Abigail when I was bad."
Carter chuckles at me. "You, bad? Perish the thought!" He leans in and gives me a gentle kiss
on the lips. God, can this man kiss. I don't know how I've managed to go this long without
kissing him. It feels like heaven. He is one talented man. The only bad part about kissing him is
that we have to stop once in a while. Damn oxygen. "Mind if we move this closer to shore? My
arms are getting a little tired of treading for two."
"Oh, come on, Carter," I say as I unravel myself from him. "Be a man." With that, I swim away
from him, back toward the shore. I don't even realize that he's not behind me until I see him pop
up a couple of feet in front of me, finally able to stand. I hadn't realized he was that good of a
swimmer. I'll have to keep my eyes on him.
"'Be a man?'" he asks. "I'll show you a man."
"Oooh. I'm sooo scared of big, bad John Carter."
He reaches out and grabs my arm, pulling me close. "I'm really not intending to even pretend to
be scary. I'm kind of searching for maybe enticing you."
"Carter, trust me. You've been enticing me for quite some time now." This time, I lean in to kiss
him, which I think he kind of likes because, so far, he's generally been the one to instigate kissing.
I can't exactly explain why he's the one; I guess maybe, deep down, I'm really an old fashioned
girl who likes to be wooed. I know, I know–Abby Lockhart likes to be wooed? It's a strange
concept, but I think it's probably the truth.
We stay in the water, essentially making out, for quite some time. I don't know exactly how long
because, well, when I'm kissing John Carter, I don't really care how much time passes. I really
only focus on him. But, I do finally realize that the sun is getting higher in the sky, and it occurs
to me that if we don't leave soon, we'll be putting on a free show for anyone who decides to they
want to have a nice day at the beach. So, I reluctantly pull my lips away from his.
"How about me move this somewhere more private?" I ask him.
"Sounds like a plan to me," he answers, starting the swim to shore. "Your place or mine?"
We emerge from the lake a moment later, and rush over to our clothes, trying to dress as quickly
as possible. "Well, as tempting as it sounds to go back to your house and have sex just down the
hall from your grandmother, I think we should take this party to my place." I can't seem to get
my jeans up. I always forget how incredibly hard it is to put on jeans while wet. "Stupid pants," I
mutter, finally getting them up my legs and over my hips. Close enough for government work.
We're walking back toward his Jeep before he finally speaks again. "You know, I don't live with
Gamma anymore."
My eyes widen with surprise and I look over at him. "What?"
He nods slowly. "Yeah. I finally decided it was time to get a place of my own. Again, I mean."
"When did this happen?"
He shrugs. "I don't know. About a month ago, I guess."
"And why is this the first time I've heard about it?"
He grins at me–that damn, adorable grin that I couldn't resist even if I wanted to. "Well, it
doesn't exactly come up in conversation a whole lot. And how could I bring it up without it
sounding like I was coming on to you?"
I can't help but laugh a little. It's true. It would have sounded like a come on if he had just
randomly blurted out that he had his own apartment. Not that I would have been against him
coming on to me. I quite enjoy flirting with him. It's fun.
We finally reach his car and settle in for the journey. "Let's go to your place, then. I haven't seen
it yet, and it needs to be christened."
"What makes you think it hasn't?" he asks me, pulling out of the parking and onto the street.
I just give him a look. "Are you trying to tell me that you've been bringing girls back to your
place? In the past month? When two of those four weeks have been spent almost entirely with
me at the hospital, and the other two were...well, they were actually spent at the hospital, or
hanging out with after work. Come on, John."
"Can't take a little teasing, Miss Lockhart?"
"Oh, I can take teasing," I tell him. "It's just that I live in the little place called Reality, and I
know you haven't been making any booty calls lately."
He gives me a mock-offended look. "And how would you know that?"
"Because you've been pining away for me for quite some time now."
He lets out a snort of laughter. "Pining? I don't know if I'd go that–"
"Just the same as I've been waiting around for you for a while, too," I concede.
"Fair enough." I see him look at me out the corner of his eye. "Pining..." he mutters, teasingly.
Before long, he pulls into the parking lot of an apartment complex. Nice place, from the looks of
it. Of course, I really wouldn't expect anything else from Carter. It doesn't seem like it's that far
from my place, either, so that'll be convenient.
"This is it," he tells me, getting out of the car and grabbing his bag from the back. "My humble
abode." Before I have a chance to even open the door, there he is, opening it for me. Such a
gentleman. "After you, mademoiselle."
Together, we make our way inside the building and to the elevator bank. As we're waiting for an
elevator to arrive, I check out the lobby. The lobby. Definitely a nice place. "This is pretty
swank looking, Carter. It must be costing you a bundle."
"Actually," he says as we step into an elevator and he hits the button for the fifth floor. "It's
pretty affordable. I got really lucky and found a place just as it was opening up. I came down
here, looked at it, and signed the papers that day. It was too nice to pass up."
A moment later, we're heading down the hallway and we stop in front of apartment 503. As he
unlocks the door, he looks down at me and waggles his eyebrows. "Want me to carry you over
the threshold."
I let out a little snort. "Try it and see what happens."
"Oooh, a challenge!" But he apparently decides not to risk it and instead opens the door for me.
I can't help but look around in amazement. Basically, he's been here for two weeks, but the place
is already completely furnished and decorated. Aside from a little bit of dust that has collected
over the past fourteen days, it's immaculate. It's huge, too. It actually looks way too big for one
person. As I think that, another thought flashes through my mind–maybe he wasn't planning on
just one person living here when decided to rent it. I quickly push that thought of my mind; I care
about Carter, a lot, but it's just way too soon to be thinking about things like that.
"So, tell me about it, Carter."
He just shrugs, walking over to the couch and tossing his bag down on it. "Just your basic
apartment, I suppose. Living room, kitchen, bathroom–with a shower stall and a bathtub,
personal washer and dryer, and two bedrooms."
"You call that basic?" I ask, wandering around the living room. My apartment building doesn't
even have community washer and dryers. They make us go to the laundromat."
"Well, you're welcome to come over here and do laundry, if you'd like," he comes up behind me,
wrapping his arms around my waist, kissing my neck. I love it when he does that. Kiss my neck,
I mean. He does it so well. Seriously, he is a highly skilled kisser.
I almost let myself get caught up in the moment, which isn't hard to do when John Carter is
kissing you, believe me, before I realize that I have nasty lake water all over me. "Mind if I use
your shower?" I manage to ask, though it's in a voice that I really don't recognize. It's about an
octave lower than usual, and it almost sounds like a purr.
"Aww, Abby," he whines. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"
"Yeah, I know. But I really need to take a shower, and it'll only take me a few minutes. Do you
mind?"
"Of course not. Knock yourself out. Call me if you need any help."
I just throw a grin at him over my shoulder as I walk down the hallway. The door to the
bathroom is open, so I'm saved the trouble of asking him where it is. I shut the door behind me
and look around. Even the bathroom in this place is nice. I think I'm going to be spending a lot
of time here.
I adjust the water temperature and step under the spray. I use his soap and shampoo, figuring
we've exchanged bodily fluids, so why not? Within five minutes, I'm finished, but I realize that I
haven't really planned ahead. All of my clothes are out in the living room, and, really, I don't plan
on wearing any clothes in the near future, so it's kind of a waste. I finally spot a couple of towels
hanging on a rack, and wrap one around myself. It's quite massive, and it feels like it's brand
new. Of course, knowing Carter, it probably is.
I wander out into the living room, but find no one there. I hear noises coming from the kitchen,
and find Carter standing at the counter, eating a bowl of cereal. He grins at me cheekily. "Did I
say you could use my towels."
"Do you think I'm afraid of walking around naked?" I counter.
He puts the bowl in the sink, then crosses his arms over his chest. "Go ahead. I dare you."
Choosing to ignore that dare, I walk over to him, lean up and give him a quick kiss. "Do you
have a bathrobe I can borrow?"
He nods, leading me into his bedroom. He opens the closet door and pulls out a soft, dark blue
checked, worn-in cotton robe. "My favorite robe for my favorite girl."
"I'm touched," I tell him dryly. "Really, I am." Though, actually, I kind of am. Judging by the
way it feels, he's had it forever. I wrap it around my body and it makes me feel like I'm
surrounded by him. It sounds unbelievably mushy and romantic, but I can't help it. I like the guy,
and the thought of being surrounded by him doesn't disturb me in the slightest. I let the towel
drop to the floor as I tighten the sash around my waist. I know he's staring at me, but I don't
really mind. If he wants to look at me, so be it.
He snaps himself out of his trance and says, "I'm going to take a shower, too. I'll be back in two
shakes of a lamb's tail."
I actually laugh out loud at that one. "Sure, Carter." He walks into the bathroom, which is
conveniently connected to his bedroom. "Hey!" I call after him, waiting until he pokes his head
back into the bedroom.
"Yes?" he asks.
I pull his robe open and flash him for a couple of seconds. "Don't forget about me," I tell him,
winking. I tighten the robe once more and head out into the living room to dig my brush out of
my bag. A moment later I hear the water start, and I drift off in my thoughts, absently brushing
my hair while staring out the window. I nearly jump out of my skin when I feel Carter nibbling on
my ear.
He laughs a little at my reaction. "Sorry," he tells me, but doesn't stop nibbling. The bastard. I
know he's not sorry. He likes to catch me off-guard just as much as I like to do the same to him.
He gently grabs my arm and pulls me back toward his bedroom, and I notice that he's wearing
nothing but a towel. It's a good look for him. He should try it more often. On the other hand, if
he did that, then I'd have to beat all the other women off of him. Of course, I'll probably have to
do that anyway. "I want to show you just how much I didn't forget about you." He leans down
and hungrily kisses me.
"No, I think you forgot all about me. And now you have to make it up to me," I mumble against
his lips, wasting no time in taking off his towel, just as he is eagerly pulling off the robe.
"Potato, Potahto," he responds before I push him down onto his bed.
"You talk too much, Carter."
So, here we are a few hours later, lying together in his large, unbelievably comfortable bed. Right
now, I can barely keep my eyes open, and I think he's having the same problem. I should just let
myself go to sleep, but I can't bring myself to yet. I like watching him like this. And part of me
still can't believe that I'm here with him. I guess I'm worried that if I go to sleep, when I wake
up, it'll all be a dream. I stroke his hair, and kiss his forehead, and pull him closer to me. I hope
it's always like this. I can seriously see myself with him for a long time, and I hope that we're
always this giddy and happy with each other. I hope that we–
"I may talk too much, Abby, but you think too much. Go to sleep," he mumbles.
Killjoy. I grab a spare pillow and whack him over the head. "Shut up, Carter."
I feel him grin against my breastbone, then sigh as he finally drifts off. I finally let my eyes close,
and follow him into sleep.