Without A Word
Disclaimer: Not mine! Mutant X belongs to Tribune and Marvel.
Rating: PG
A/N: There's this tiny moment between Brennan and Shalimar in the middle of the season three finale, The Assault. It isn't more than seven seconds long, maybe twenty eight or twenty nine minutes into the finale, but I love that little moment. They've just confessed their feelings in unspoken hunger right as their world was falling apart. Lexa had disappeared. Jesse was kidnapped. And Adam was back with them in Sanctuary. Nothing was at it had been. I can just imagine the questions and feelings reeling through both of them as they stand there, waiting as Adam searches on the computer. So much is unknown, yet their new closeness is obvious as they face each other, her hand pressed against his chest.
For Mari, who asked for one more story. (Or ficlette in this case!) :) I hope you like it!
Without A Word
They stood close together, barely a whisper of space between them. Shoulders were hunched and rounded, bearing the weight of their crashing world upon them. His dark head was bent down; her worried face was tilted upward, desperately seeking a connection.
Quivering fingers reached out, fiddling with the zipper of his jacket, its smooth, worn metal startlingly cold against her flesh. Material was pushed aside and fingers pressed beneath it, seeking the warmth of his skin, the roll of muscles as his stomach contracted at her touch, a hiss of air escaping through his teeth.
This morning they had been four strong.
Now they were two.
Her shoulders straightened in fierce determination, but the slight tremble in her fingers felt by the sensitive skin of his stomach betrayed her resolve. His jaw clenched in understanding, hands rising and capturing hers. Palms bent up and back, pressing together. Beneath the tips of his fingers, his pulse beat steadily, reassuringly; her own slowed and kept pace, reveling in the calm comfort of his nearness.
Eyes met and sudden awareness flared heavy between them.
Faint redness crept across her cheeks, and the blood pounding beneath his fingers increased tenfold.
His hands pulled back abruptly.
Her breath caught in her throat as fingers rose and reconnected, framing her pale cheeks. Electricity, clear and defiant, could be felt just beneath his touch; her knees buckled slightly at the memories it stirred. Her lips parted slightly, causing his eyes to darken momentarily.
One eyebrow rose knowingly.
His mouth quirked, fingers running over her cheeks once more as hands circled to the back of her slender neck. Eyes dropped shut as his head lowered further, coming to rest against hers, foreheads touching, bodies leaning toward the other. A slight shudder ran through his frame, and her fingers tightened in his shirt, a fistful of warmth and cotton. His head dipped and turned, lips pressing into the side of her temple, her brow, her ear.
Stumble grazed against her and tingles pricked and prodded her skin in tantalizing patterns even as her nostrils flared slightly; aware of him. Aware of his scent, of his taste, of his touch.
For so long, they had been afraid. For so long, they had stayed apart.
No more.
Her fingers relaxed their hold, his shirt springing loose in defined wrinkles. Her hand slid up his body, resting on his chest.
Gazes searched intently for long moments.
They had found each other.
Lips curved upward in reckless abandon and for one, brief moment, their world was beautiful.
They were together.
They breathed.
They loved.
"Brennan, Shalimar, come here. I found something."
The moment was broken as Adam's voice beckoned them over. Two heads turned toward the sound before exchanging one final glance, her hand trailing gently down his chest as they turned back to Adam, back to their reality.
It had all been said with a lingering touch.
No words were needed.