It appears that I can't stop talking about the sweetness of CB. Who didn't love that final scene in 4x08, to be fair - I don't think they've ever been that sweet with each other, except maybe back in the days of shoulder kissing and quotes about beauty and Erickson Beamon. I wrote last chapter about the afterglow (and eerily prophetically enough, afterward I wrote an accidental 'I love you' scene before I'd even seen the promo, because bethaboo and I have murdered two writers and assumed their positions on the Grand High Council of GG), so I thought I'd write about the deed itself. The title is taken from the song playing at the time, 'Blue Moon' by Kendal Johansson.
Enjoy.
Take The Time To Show You're Mine
Friends with benefits is very different to enemies with benefits - touch is slower, feather strokes, drops of mercury; they can count each breath, each breathless word half-spoken or never said at all. The process is slow and earnest, beautiful in its simplicity. Strength pours into the void between them, sealing it shut: friends, not now together but certainly not apart. Moonlight drenches the room, blue and mystic.
The darkness inside his own head is complete, sight and sound obscured by sensation - they've never been this way before, just him and her: they. There is a possibility for amicability here, for courtesy and sincerity even in the most godless of acts. Has God abandoned him? He doesn't really care. There's no room for the promise of something greater, something more intangible in this moment (which is in itself a promise wrapped around an enigma, intwertwined and whispered in his ear like a fairytale). If he closes his eyes, he'll see it; he sees much better when she isn't there to blind him, after all.
There are always two people at war within her: the girl they know and the one that others do. She offers herself to be kissed, to be tempted in the guise of her own body, in the space where woman and machine divide. She's not a robot, and she's not a monster, and there's never been any contestation as to what moments like these transform her into. She will bend, and she will break, and she will fall away into pieces on demand. She has been a part of something - inflexible, inorganic - and she will become a part of someone: homemade, whole, choices just glittering shards upon the battleground.
When they pray, it is for perfect symbiosis (where dissidence is lost and weapons laid down, because they are loved).
Fin.