Maybe this Time…

Chapter 6: Saturday

Author: Knowhere

Rating: Light R

Disclaimer: Nothing.

AN: Please review after you read. Thank you.

H: Thanks.

Summary: Maybe this time…Change is inescapable. One week. Seven days. A relationship comes together.

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"The light of day brings a new perspective…"
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Saturday: 9:05 A.M.
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The room is silent and sunlight barely peeks through the shuttered windows. He has an arm over her waist, holding gently. Vaguely, she dreams of him. The face isn't clear, but it's his. In her mind, he whispers words that she has waited long to hear from anyone. His voice is certain in her thoughts and she never wants to wake. He snores lightly. Lately, he's been dreaming too much of her. Dreams that consumed his waking thoughts, dreams that haunted him and made him never want to shut his eyes. Today he dreams of nothing but white noise and space. Noise that doesn't reach his ears and space that doesn't crowd. He sleeps.

To say that they've never slept this comfortably would be untrue. But they've never felt so settled. So right. He wakes and knows exactly who's sleeping next to him. There's still a lot to be discovered, but he feels like he knows enough to make a decision. He doesn't do one-night stands, but he's had his share of awkward morning-afters. Mornings where he wished it were another face, the face that's in front of him now. That dream once slipped away from him. He had moved on and pursued another. But here it is again…seeking him out. An inescapable force that has pulled him in once again.

She can feel the weight of his gaze. She knows he's staring at her. But she doesn't dare ruin the moment. Her body stays still, her thoughts frozen in place. If only she could make time stand still. She never wants to forget this moment. Even if down the road, they don't work out again, if they break each other's hearts once more…she can at least hold onto this. The feeling of him watching her and the thought that she alone has the power to tame this man.

He smirks knowing that she's feigning sleep. Though he must admit she's good at it, it's the little things give it away. The muscles in her face twitch as he shifts his weight on the bed, a pink hue rises upon her cheeks as he brushes the skin of her neck with his fingers, and her breathing is no longer rhythmic. It's become erratic every time his forefinger strokes the shell of her ear. Amusement lighting his voice, he speaks softly. "Faker."

Wide eyes suddenly pop open and she smiles like an idiot. "Morning."

"Hello." He smirks.

She leans over to connect their lips, mindful to keep her mouth closed, but somewhere hidden she feels the tingle of mint. She pulls away. "You brushed your teeth."

"That is a customary act when one wakes."

She swats his shoulder. "You've been up longer than I thought."

He supports the side of his face on his open palm. "Woke up a couple hours ago. Went back to sleep." He doesn't mention that he's been watching her for the last half hour, figuring that she suspects anyways. A beat passes. "How do you feel?"

"Now there's a post-coital question if I ever heard one."

He laughs; a real deep rumble laugh. "Well?"

"Good." She runs her hand along his arm, feeling the dark hairs. "You?"

"Pretty good, considering."

"Considering what?"

"Everything." A vague response, but it's entirely him.

She nods, not understanding but also not caring too much. She's in no mood to analyze. Grinning prettily, she whispers. "You look good in the morning."

"Huh." He continues to stare at her for a moment and is pleased to find out that she holds his gaze. He remembered how she always used to be the first to drop her eyes. But now…she's gained a certain amount of confidence and that is something that he finds so utterly sexy. Reaching out, he pushes some hair off her face.

"Can I use your shower?"

"Sure." He runs his hand up and down her arm. "Just use my stuff." Settling into the bed, he watches her comically lean over the side of the bed, hair brushing the carpet below. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for my clothes."

"Why? Aren't you showering?"

Turning back, "Yeah. But I have to put something on."

Eyebrow lifted, "And why is that?"

She makes a face. "'Cause that's what people do."

"Says who?" He shrugs.

"Common decency." She wrinkles her nose. "It's polite."

He rolls onto his back, breaking eye contact, and laughs. "It's not like I didn't just see you naked."

"You didn't just see me."

Snickering, "Fine. Saw you last night. Just felt you naked next to me." His head turns on his pillow. "Why are you suddenly shy?"

She rolls her eyes in exasperation. She'll never win when she tries to combat his sarcasm with her own. Biting her lip, she lies and desperately wishes that he believes it. "I'm not."

Playfully, "Okay then, go take a shower. And I'll stay here and watch you walk to the bathroom." She hesitates and sees him cocking his head to the side in a challenge. He smirks. "Go on. I dare you."

Determined not to blush, she gets up and makes a point to walk slowly into his adjoining bathroom. She won't let him have the victory of seeing her dash away as if she's embarrassed. Almost succeeding, she gets to the doorway when she hears his low throaty whistle. Cheeks flushing, she turns and sees that he's nodding appreciatively with an impish grin on his lips.

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Saturday: 4:18 P.M.
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"Hey Jess?"

"Yeah?" He keeps his eyes on the screen of his laptop. She walks over to his desk and slips her arm around his shoulders. His fingers slow on the screen and the corner of his lips curl up in a smirk. "What's up?" He holds her waist with his right arm and brings her closer to his body.

"Nothing." Tugging her down, she plops down onto his lap in giggles. "How's the writing going?"

"Good." Closing his eyes, he rests his chin on her shoulder. He pushes his face into the curve of her neck, breathing in her scent. He looks up as a question suddenly dawns on him. "What have you been doing these past couple of hours?"

She smiles and bluntly states, "Going through your stuff."

"What?" He chuckles.

"Looking through your books, peeking in your drawers…that kinda stuff."

He raises his eyebrows. "You're not serious?"

"Sure." She shrugs. "Why not?"

"Um, privacy for one matter."

"Nah." She bends down and kisses his nose lightly. "No more secrets."

He tickles her sides gently and jokes. "I've got plenty to hide."

"Like this?" She holds up several sheets of lined white paper.

His face falls slightly. "Tell me you didn't read that."

She's entirely too curious for her own good, but for some reason, she's not embarrassed about it in front of this man. "No, not really. I got as far as 'Dear Rory, I'm sorry I couldn't say this to you face to face, but…' That's where I stopped."

He listens and briefly remarks, "It's just a letter. Something I did a while back to clear my writer's block…and my conscience." He mutters the last part.

"Your conscience?" She flips the pages front to back and glances at the words.

He shrugs. "It's just something I did on a whim to give myself a jumpstart at writing again. At the time, I had started the draft for what will become my second book, and I was at a dead stop for months. For some reason, the end to my roadblock came out as a letter to you." He should be angry with her but he's not. A little annoyed, yes, but mainly because she hadn't asked. He does have a lot of secrets, but none that he would be too uncomfortable in sharing with her.

She's hesitating but continues anyways. "You wrote to me as if you were dead." She looks down at the pages and he does so as well. Caught off guard and concerned, he tightens his hold on her when he sees the onslaught of tears.

"Yes. I did it in case I never got the change to talk to you and fully explain myself. I feel that when you die, you should have done all you can to limit your regrets. I think it's impossible to be completely without a single regret, but I also think that a person can do everything within their ability to at least reduce the number."

"I glad that I'm reading this now."

He nods. "I never really meant for anyone to read the letter."

"But you wrote it." A frown deepens in her features. "And you kept it."

A weary expression forms. "It was a long time ago. It was just something I needed to do at the time. I never seriously thought I'd go the rest of my life without seeing you again. I knew we would meet up again. It was just a matter of when, not if. Though I never really expected all of this between us to happen."

She nods. "Have you been waiting, then? To say these things to me?"

"To a degree, yeah." He rests his forehead on her shoulder. "No regrets, remember?"

"Yeah, no regrets." She runs her hand through his messy hair and smiles. "Or in your case, smaller number of regrets."

"Good." He takes his time and cups her jaw in his warm palm. Slowly and meaningfully, he kisses her with great ease.

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Saturday: 10:46 P.M.
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The pillow is soft beneath her head, softer than hers, and she wonders where he bought it. His bed is smaller than she would have thought. A full, not even a queen, and it forces them to sleep close to each other. Not that she minds, but she's just pleasantly surprised he's not the kind of bachelor to show off with a huge bed. Does that mean he doesn't have a lot of women over? She pushes aside that thought to poke at a later time. One of her legs is between his and she thinks she can feel the hint of an erection beneath his boxers. But she doesn't say anything. "Your apartment is quiet."

"Hm?" He lifts his head and looks at her lying on his shoulder. "What?"

"Your place is really quiet. Hard to get a place that's actually this peaceful in the city."

"It has good insulation. Blocks out a lot of sound." His arm comes around to circle her bare shoulders, creating goosebumps on her skin from the metal of his watch touching her skin.

"Yeah, suppose so." She moves her head and kisses his shoulder. "You don't do much, do you?"

He scrunches his face and grins. "What does that mean?"

She shrugs. "Just…you don't do much."

"That makes it so much clearer."

She giggles. "No, I mean…you write and do your work at home, you don't go out much…we stayed in all day. Just seems like your life is pretty predictable."

"Okay, first," He lifts up her chin with his finger, "We didn't go out today because you are insatiable." He smirks. "And second…no, I guess I don't do much. After moving around so much as a kid, always with so many unknowns in life, it's nice to know that I have a place to stay and work to do." He grins almost to himself. "I like being boring." He looks away and mumbles, "Tired of running." And that's his subtle apology of their past and his reassurance that if she wanted to pursue a relationship that he was ready to stick it out this time.

She glances at him under her lashes. She heard him but decides not to bring it up just yet. He said it and that's enough for now. "Never really thought about it that way. Just thought that you'd be living it up in the city."

He smirks. "The nightclub scene isn't really my thing anymore. After the initial shine of going out to bars wears off, you tend to realize that you can save a hell of a lot of money just buying liquor and drinking at home instead of running up a huge bar tab every Friday night. And besides, I've done enough of that to last me a lifetime. But there is a theater in the Village that shows old movies once a month that I go to."

She smiles and slides up to be nose to nose with him. "That sounds like you."

"Wanna come with me next time?"

"Sure."

He's quiet and just lies there, listening to the silence. She's squirming on the bed, finding a comfortable position and the jostling makes him turn his head to her. "You okay?"

"What? Oh, yeah. Fine. I just can't get comfortable." She flops back down and then turns to fluff the pillow again.

"You move around this much every time you fall asleep?" He reaches out to try to help her.

"I guess." She lies down and shifts the covers around. "Does it bother you?"

"Honestly?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "Yeah." He chuckles.

"Sorry." But she doesn't stop kicking her feet beneath the covers and he suddenly rolls over to hover above her. She yelps in surprise.

Pinning her down with his weight, he smirks. "There are better things to be doing on this bed than just fidgeting, you know?"

She settles down and smiles up at him. "Oh yeah?" Dipping his lower body down, he presses his lips against hers. Her hands come up to hold his waist and her eyes flutter and a grin creeps up to her features. "So, tomorrow's Sunday. Almost the beginning of another week, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Feels different though, doesn't it?"

Pressing her against the bed with his weight, he kisses her. Sweetly and softly. A kiss that lets her know that there are plenty to come. "Yeah, feels different."

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Saturday: 11:09 P.M.
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