Hola amigos! This is my first BeBop fanfic so sorry if it sux. I don't know when it's supposed to happen. Well I guess Spike didn't die, so, yeah.
She hugged a pillow possessively. Nothing unusual about that, it was a habit and a comfy one at that. He was hugging her possessively. Nothing unusual about that nowadays. Although his arm substituting as a pillow could get a little uncomfortable he was willing to suffer through it. That was a little unusual. He was never willing, most of the time, to inconvenience himself for another, especially for a woman so headstrong.
He did love the feel of her back against his chest with the rest of her body following suit. He also didn't mind the heat she gave. It reminded him that there was life and something to live for. She loved his arm around her waist, hand spread across her stomach unconsciously playing with her flesh there. It was as if he was trying to compose a masterpiece on the piano.
They did have to get this leg thing worked out though. Sometimes he would pin both of hers down cutting off the circulation to them. Other times she'd have them curled up so far he'd kick endlessly searching for her until it woke her up. But a few times, like now, they'd find just the right position. One of his hooked between hers. Perfect. They could stay like this for days. Of course other activities would preoccupy most of their time spent in bed. When that was finished due to exhaustion, they'd find themselves flawlessly wrapped up in each other.
An urgent barking at the door woke her first, as usual. He slept like a log. But after being frozen for fifty years in a coma, she'd learned to be a light sleeper, not wanting to loose out on one more minute than she had to.
"Ein, shut up!" She yelled. "Dumb dog."
Stirring awake a little more she reached back over to make contact with his hip.
"Hey, it's time to get up."
He groaned in protest.
"Come on," she shook him once more.
"I don't wanna get up," he whined. "I like this, it's comfy," he whispered pulling her closer.
"Well then, I just have to make it uncomfy for you." She rolled flat onto her back trying to crush half of his body. His reflexes were too fast even while half asleep. He readjusted to her new position scooting down so his other arm snaked it's way around her waist, fully entrapping her in his hold. Lazily he put his head on the crook of her neck.
"See, I told you it was easy." His breath on her skin reminded her that there was life and something to live for.
Still she protested, "We've been in here for two days and I think Jet is getting a little pissed. He probably hasn't found any bounties worth hunting. And knowing Ed, she's probably starting to drive him crazy with all her questions of why we've been away so long."
"We didn't go away. Besides, he's probably happy no one complains anymore about his cooking. Come on," he began to nibble on her ear. "Go back to sleep. It's not like we're missing out on anything."
That made her smile. He was right. For all that they had lived and lost, there was nothing else worth anything out there for them. Now was the right time to bask in the usual, to revel in the mundane.
Without further protest she rolled back onto her side once more taking hold of her discarded pillow. "Fine," she conceded. "But when we get up we have to get a bounty, cos we ran out of fuel."
"How do you know that?" He inquired curiously lifting his head off his pillow.
"The BeBop stopped moving about an hour ago."
"We were occupied an hour ago."
"I multi-task," she replied.
He shook his head. "Just like a woman."
"Shut up and go to sleep," she grinned.
"Yeah," he put his head back down. "Sleep is good."
"Now it is," she agreed as they found their perfect position once more.
Sleep came quickly for two restless souls easing their way into settling down.