Herein lies dialogue from the most recent ep so if you haven't seen it and don't want to be spoiled, move back. Also, rated M, but only for the second to last paragraph. Feel free to skip over that bit if you prefer ( I mean, they clearly did the deed so I couldn't just ignore that ;))
"Please just stay the hell out of it!"
He regrets it the moment the words leave his lips, the instant his voice snaps with anger, but then it's too late, then she's walking away. He sighs, wants to go after her, but what good would that do when his mind is still full of muddled apprehension, his body strung taught with vexation. No. He'll just make it worse. He knows he'd say something to make it worse, but he can't help the anxiety that twists his gut watching her walk away. He hates watching people walk away.
It's late when he spots her through the glass doors, her face impassive, and in that moment there is a desperate urgency that pulls him through the doors, her name on his lips.
"Amelia," his hand lifts instinctively towards her as he continues, "I am so-"
"Sorry?" She interrupts, her voice not nearly as pleasant as he's come to expect. She keeps walking, and for a moment he thinks that he ruined this before it even began, but then she's slowing, turning, "For being a Jack Ass?"
She's angry, pissed really, but at least she's talking to him, at least her body is turned towards him, and he places his hands in the pockets of his jacket to curb his desire to move forward and reach out to her. "And for how I spoke to you. I was out of line." He shakes his head, tries to convey all the remorse he feels in those few words, in the expression on his face.
"You think?" She snaps sarcastically, and he isn't sure what else he can say, what he can do to snuff the flame of anger he's responsible for igniting.
"I am sorry." He states with a meaningful nod, his body tilting forward, and for a moment their gazes lock, and he thinks maybe she can see all he feels, maybe she can forgive him.
"Good." She mutters, turns, and then she's walking away again, and how he loathes that, hates that he's caused this reaction.
He doesn't want to justify his behavior; it isn't justifiable, the way he spoke to her, but he does want her to stay, to understand. He wants to open up to her. "Don't go. Not like this." She stops and he sighs in relief, steps forward instinctively before saying, "It just took me by surprise." Another sigh, a shake of his head and he continues, "I'm not always good with surprises."
He isn't entirely certain what surprise he's talking about. There have been a lot lately, including her, this woman who makes him feel things he'd given up on feeling again. She makes him feel ready, makes him feel like he could have the things he desperately wants to have, and that, well, that has caught him completely off guard.
"Me either!" She says, her voice coated in exasperation, and then she turns back to him, a small exhale leaving her lips, her eyes softening and a shrug lifting her shoulder. "Maybe we should get over that."
She'd said we, and his head tilts, a small smile forming, pulling at the corner of his mouth, and yes, he thinks they should.
It doesn't take long to have her naked in his arms, his lips pressing to her jaw, her neck, mapping a path between the valley of her breasts, circling her navel, and when they are both slick with sweat, when she is pivoting and riding him into the bed, he relishes the smooth feel of her skin beneath his fingers, the way her nipples pebble beneath his thumbs, and the feel of her writhing, her muscles clenching and fluttering as his name leaves her mouth in a strangled gasp.
In the morning he'll wake before her. He'll rest comfortably with her warm body nestled against him, flesh against flesh, her hair a tousled and beautiful mess blanketing his arm, and when her eyes flutter open, her lips curving into an almost shy smile, they'll spend the brief time they have before work teaching each other that surprises don't have to be a bad thing.