You are a sense of calm

an endless sky

a brilliant sea

You are the answer to all the questions.

You are a lover's eyes, and hope for destiny.

-Tiffany Simone

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am so sorry for the huge update gap. I'm officially a college graduate and the last month has just been insane. Even with the cancellation news, I will continue to update both Stars on Our Knuckles and You Lonely Calls to Me, the latter of which should be updated by Saturday. I hope you enjoy this little one-shot that takes places between Season 1 and 2! Let me know what you guys think!

There was a part of Clarice that was always watchful of those around her, waiting to be left behind once she was no longer useful…no longer enough, left over from a childhood of foster homes and years on the streets. She'd learned that in the time since Lorna, Sage, and Andy left, she could use that same part to read others.

Marcos was a shadow, burdened with grief and disbelief. Angry. All he wanted was Lorna and his child back. It showed in the heavy eyes, tight jaw, and the light that would flicker between the fingers of his clenched fists.

The Struckers were all frayed at the seams, the loss of a son and brother taking a large chunk out of the once close-knit family. Caitlyn and Reed were left hollow by Andy's departure, blaming themselves for not being able to save him, blaming Lorna and the Hellfire Club for taking their son away.

Lauren herself had aged a decade in the months that followed, desperately clinging to the beliefs of the X-Men and the Underground even if they'd put her against her brother. She'd hardened in a way that Clarice herself recognized because she saw it every time she looked in a mirror, fighting for something she believed in and sacrificing a lifelong relationship because of it.

And John…

That man was so difficult to read.

She knew that at times, he thought himself a failed leader…that the X-Men had made a mistake in choosing him. Clarice had seen every loss weigh him down: Gus, Sonya, Lorna, Sage… With every life lost and every friend who turned away from him, she saw just how much he'd sacrificed. But these were all things she knew because he'd said as much.

He kept his emotions so tempered down and hidden to save face it was a miracle he hadn't slipped yet. He slept so little and did so much for everyone without complaint or sign of discomfort, waving off her questions and worries with a small smile for weeks.

She kept a closer eye on him more than anyone, watching for even the slightest hint that he was overexerting himself. It was hard thing to watch for when his abilities made it almost impossible for her to catch him and it wasn't until she watched him talking to one of the new refugees, a mother and child, crouched in front of their cot that she finally saw it.

The child, no more than two years old, tangled one chubby fist in John's hair and pulled.

He waved off the mother's apologies with an easy smile when she gently uncurled her child's fingers. With a few parting words, he straightened, eyes slipping closed for a long moment, making an excuse when the woman asked him a question before he turned to walk away.

Clarice frowned. She'd seen him track enough times to know that that wasn't what had just happened. It had looked like the act of just standing had taken everything out of him… She tried to remember the last time he'd actually slept, but in the last week she'd fallen asleep before he ever laid down or he was already up before her. Had he slept at all?

She followed him to his office, leaning against the doorway as he looked over the various maps, blueprints, and lists spread across the table. Clarice didn't bother announcing herself, knowing that John would've sensed her long before she'd entered.

Nearly a minute passed before he spoke, "Something you want to talk to me about?"

She folded her arms across her chest, raising an eyebrow, "When was the last time you slept?"

He paused in his writing, looking up, "Clarice, I'm fine."

She frowned. "You're avoiding the question."

John sat back in the chair, "I'm not avoiding anything. I'm telling you I'm fine."

Clarice held his stare, truly seeing the shadows under his eyes for the first time. He was tired and too stubborn to admit to it, the weariness buried so far in that gaze it was a wonder she'd noticed at all. She walked forward, stepping in between his legs and placing light hands on his shoulders. "You may be fine right now, but you look seconds from dropping out of exhaustion."

He huffed out a breath.

She very nearly rolled her eyes, glancing at the cracked analog clock hanging on the opposite wall. 1:36 am. Clarice hadn't realized how late it was. Working alongside John had a habit of throwing off her entire sleeping schedule.

She pressed a quick kiss to his mouth before pulling back, nearly smiling he leaned into the touch, "It's late, John. Come to bed with me…just until I fall asleep? Then you can come back and do…" she waved at the table, "whatever it is you're doing."

He was clearly skeptical, but he stood slowly. "Alright."

Pulling off her jeans the moment the bedroom room door shut, Clarice looked over her shoulder to find that intense gaze lingering on her bare legs. She bit back a smile as she climbed into bed, taking note of his momentary pause before he joined her in the bed.

His arm automatically wrapped around her, drawing her to his side.

Clarice knew she would have to find a way to get him to fall asleep before she did, his embrace already beginning to make her drowsy. How could one person be so freaking warm? She pressed herself closer, draping an arm over his chest and brushing her lips along his neck, "You are not a very comfy pillow."

John raised a brow, looking down at her, "So you keep telling me."

She smiled, sliding a leg across his waist and planting her hands on his shoulders.

His thumbs begun to trace patterns on her bare thighs, "I thought you were tired."

"Maybe I was." Clarice brushed her hair to one side and leaned down until her lips grazed his jaw, smiling as his fingers played with the hem of her top. She pulled back, his mouth hovering beneath hers, "Or maybe I just wanted you in bed."

One hand curled over the back of her neck, his gaze falling to her mouth.

Threading her fingers through his hair, she tilted his head back and closed the distance.

He groaned against her lips, his hand gliding up her thigh.

She halted him, curling her fingers around his wrist as she trailed open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, feeling him shudder beneath her as her free hand slid underneath his shirt to trace the lines of his torso, "You're wearing too many clothes…" she whispered, tugging at his earlobe with her teeth, "Maybe we can do something about that."

He sucked in a sharp breath as she dug her nails into his skin hard enough for him to feel it.

Before Clarice could say anything more, she was underneath him.

Hands on either side of her head, he grinned down at her with smoldering dark eyes.

She groaned as his lips found her pulse the same moment his hand pushed up her shirt, pulling his hair from the tie so she could thread her fingers through the dark, silky strands and tug sharply. Clarice smiled at the expected tremor that went through him, only to gasp as his teeth nipped lightly at her throat in retaliation.

They separated long enough to remove every single barrier between them.

Clarice would never tire of the feeling of all that bare skin against hers, his touch bringing all her blood rushing to the surface like a magnet and as she arched up into him, she let herself sink into his warmth like she always did.

His reverent words whispered along her body sounded like a prayer, a long forgotten gospel being seared into her skin with every feather-light kiss, and she'd knew she never feel as beautiful as she did in this moments. Or so worshiped…

And when they finally collapsed breathless in a tangle of languid limbs and sleepy smiles, Clarice knew she'd succeeded in distracting him…at least for now and as she draped an arm across his stomach and laid her head over his heart, she hoped that it would be enough to ease the strain he was under. To quiet his mind for the night.

He murmured into her hair, "Clarice?"

"Hmm?"

His knuckles lightly trailed up her thigh, "I know what you're doing."

Clarice craned her head up, "Do you now?"

The smile could be heard in his voice, "Your execution could use some work."

She laughed, "Yet you came to bed anyways."

"What can I say?" He lowered his mouth to her ear, "I'm a sucker for a pretty face."

Clarice shuddered as his teeth nipped at the tip of her pointed ear, a sensitive spot that he loved to exploit any chance he got and a choked groan slipped out as his lips continued their downward path. "You sure it's was my face you were looking at?"

He let out a throaty chuckle as his fingers glided down her ribcage. "Among other things."

She squirmed as his unbound hair tickled her stomach, Clarice struggled to string together a coherent sentence or hell…even a coherent thought, but then his hands pressed her hips down into the mattress and it wasn't long before even breathing became secondary to the heat curling around the base of her spine, tighter and tighter…

The tension snapped with a soft scream as her vision when blindingly white for a moment, the beginnings or portals crackling and sparking around the room as her hands fisted the fabric of the sheets.

She gasped, fingers slowly uncurling as she sank back onto the mattress.

He laid down next to her and prompted himself up on his elbow, brushing hair back off her flushed face with a crooked smile. His fingers continued their path along her jaw and down her neck, her chest as he pulled the sheets up, "You know, you should really learn to control your abilities."

Clarice groaned. Damn tease. "If I could move right now…"

"You'd what?"

She turned her head, "I'll think of something."

John laughed again, the sound somehow deep and light at the same time. "I'm sure you will."

"Well, you won't see it coming…" Clarice rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes with a small smile at the peace radiating from him. He needed to let himself breathe once in a while and watching him shed the "Thunderbird" persona and just be himself…be John, was a breathtaking thing to witness. "I know that much."

He reached behind him to turn off the lamp and pull the sheets to cover her.

She curled into him, "Does this mean you're actually going to sleep?"

"You almost sound surprised." His drew her back into him, draping an arm over her waist and pressing a long, lingering kiss to the back of her neck, "I thought that was the whole point of this…endeavor."

"No more talking, alright." She closed her eyes, "Just sleep"

"Just sleep." He breathed against her throat, "That sounds…perfect."

Clarice smiled, sinking into the warmth and safety of his embrace.

It was best night of sleep either of them had had in a long time.