Illyria rolled off Wade and sat up. He was sleeping soundly and as she watched his chest rise and fall, she felt a peace she never thought she'd know. The tattoos from his Weapon X days were still fading, and his hair was still incredibly short, but he was healing. The scars around his mouth were fainter, and the anguish in his eyes was slowly seeping away.

Dawn was coming, over the mountains in the East and she wished that for a moment, she could stop time. She'd found her own world, her own night, her own place. Somewhere where she didn't have to worry about whether it was wrong, or right, or what job she was supposed to be on. This was her night. In twelve hours reality would creep back into her like and attempt to steal what little air she had left to breathe, but before that happened, she would enjoy her time here.

When the sun finally appeared through the cracks in the curtains she closed her eyes and breathed in the smell of Wade and sex and peace. A week from now she would look back and wish she was with him, but for now – this was her time, and no one would take it from her, not if they wanted to keep all their limbs.

"Wake up…" She nudged his shoulder and he grumbled, grabbing onto her hand, groggy with sleep as he was, and pulling her closer.

"Is this an invitation?" his sleep filled voice was rough and she loved it. "Cause I like invitations. If it's not, I'm sure I can persuade you… we could go out for breakfast, take a walk on the beach…" He opened one brown eye and peeked up at her, mischief written all over his face.

"It's an invitation."

"Good…" He rolled onto his side and ran one, long-fingered hand down the curve of her torso. His hands had always amazed her. For someone who could bring bloody, violent death with a flick of his wrist, Wade had beautiful hands. His fingers were long, thin and elegant, like a pianist's. His palms were evenly sized, and while they could be calloused, his healing factor ensured that they spent most of their time being soft as sin. "You know, I love all your piercings." He kissed the one through her navel, then the two microdermals on her left hip, then her right. Her head rolled back in pleasure, but she couldn't resist watching him long enough to stay that way.

"They feel nice in my mouth, like hard candy." His lips travelled up her body, to her left nipple where he suckled on the silver ring there. He reached over the side of the bed to her glass of water and pulled out one of the few remaining ice cubes. Slowly, with complete concentration, he ran it along her nipple, icing up the metal with a purpose. "Now, if I do this, your skin will be warm, the metal will be cold, and I'll be as happy as Bugs with a sea full of carrots." True to his word, he dipped his head and sucked the blushing nub into his mouth.

She half expected him to roll on his back like a kitten, except that now he just wanted more. His journey continued, up to the double piercings on her clavicle, which he paid great attention to. Wade had always loved her collarbone and when she'd gotten the piercings two years ago, they had just given him something more to toy with. They weren't his ultimate goal though, no, so he continued up. He kissed the ring in her eyebrow, the stud in her nose and then made love to the snake bites on her lower lip.

"Love these, really do. Love them." He mumbled. "But my favourite?" He deepened their kiss and his tongue met with the barbell on hers, touching, caressing, coaxing… He slid on top of her, already hard, already wanting.

"Do you want me, Lily?" He asked, his voice quiet but demanding. She loved his voice, more than anything. Having spent so long in captivity made her value the accent, the tone, the different sounds he could make.

"I always want you." It was cliché, but his touch had reduced her to putty in his hands and she couldn't summon up enough brainpower so fire something witty at him.

His fingers danced along her sex, playing her like a violin. Her body arched beneath his and hummed with energy. She looked up at him - into his eyes, rich, chocolate brown, at his lips, slim but sensual, at the line of his jaw, strong and masculine, and at he curve of his eyebrow, playful but stern – all at the same time. She took in his face – tried to memorise every line, every flaw and every beauty.

"Will you let me make love to you?" He asked. He lowered his lips to her ear and whispered. "Just here, just now, will you let me love you? Will you let me pretend like this is my life, like this is who I am? Will you let me touch you as if you were mine?" Unexpected tears welled in her eyes and for the first time in a long time, she felt herself shed them. "Will you let me forget, just for a while, all the horrible things I've seen? Can I loose myself in you, just for today?"

"Part of me is yours," she promised, quietly. "Part of me is always in these far of places with you – just the two of us." When he lifted his head she caught his gaze, and as she positioned him at her entrance, she spoke again. "Will you let me be safe here, just for now? Will you let me fall into you? Can I be weak here, with you?" He kissed her, slowly, gently, lovingly before sliding home.

"I've got you." He swore.