Title: Hush

Author: Jeanine (jeanine@iol.ie)

Rating: PG

Pairing: Sara/Warrick

Feedback: Makes my day

Disclaimer: If it was in the show, it's not mine.

Archive: At my site Checkmate () , Fanfiction.net; anywhere else, please ask.

Notes: For the LiveJournal CSReports Virtual Rewind challenge, to the "Buffy titles" challenge. And I couldn't just write one, so I ended up doing a minor series.

***

Ever since they first met, Warrick and Sara's relationship has been a verbal one. At first, it was verbal fireworks, jab and counter jab, punch and counter punch, each vying for the upper hand.

Gradually, things changed, and they became friendly, then friends. The earlier sparring softening to a more friendly banter, swapping theories and stories, working together on cases, ideas intertwining freely, two minds working as one until they couldn't tell who had contributed what to the discussion, knowing only that they'd arrived exactly where they needed to be.

Warrick's always been able to talk to Sara, just like she's always been able to talk to him.

But now he's in a place he's never been before; in Sara's bedroom, in Sara's bed, his clothes and hers scattered in various locations, her naked body wrapped around his.

He has no idea what to say to her, is grateful that she's asleep, that he's spared that awkwardness. For the moment, he just wants to stay like this, watch her sleeping, her peaceful face pillowed against his chest. He's always known Sara was beautiful, had always thought she was at her most beautiful while at work, her face alight with concentration.

Now he knows that her face alight with passion is more beautiful still; her face restful most beautiful of all.

He knows that this will end, as all things must, and he isn't sure that he really wants to see her reaction when she wakes up and finds him here, but he can no more make himself leave than he can stop the sun from setting.

It comes to an end sooner than he might wish, when he feels her stir against him, feels her take in a deep breath. He holds his breath as he watches her fluttering eyelashes, holds it longer when she buries her head against his chest, as if she's fighting wakefulness, her arm tightening around his waist, pulling him towards her.

It seems to take an age before she actually opens her eyes, raises them to meet his, and when they do, the most miraculous thing happens.

Sara smiles.

And it's not just any smile, oh no. It's a slow, satisfied smile, the kind of smile that tells him loud and clear that she has no regrets about last night. That, and the way her hand slides up his chest, curling around his shoulder, the way she props herself up slightly against him, the way she moves her body against him as she shifts, lets him know that she wouldn't mind a repeat performance, and he's more than willing to accommodate her.

Her lips meet his, not in the passionate frenzy of hours earlier, but in the same slow manner as her smile, and he smiles into the kiss, because he knows they've got all the time in the world to talk about this, to figure out where they go from here.

For now, he's content to savour the moment and enjoy the hush.