AN: Did this story need a chapter two? I don't even care.
Waves and Wonders
Chapter Two
He woke early, the light breeze from the ocean still gently sweeping into the room. Immediately, he was aware of Lisbon tucked into his side, all warmth and softness. Her cheeks were pink, dark hair curling across her pillow, both of her arms wrapped around one of his.
He softly brushed the wayward tendrils of hair aside, exposing the pale skin of her neck, ran his knuckles up and down the smooth column of her throat.
It felt good, touching her this way. Almost as good as it felt to be touched.
Not quite 24 hours ago, he'd been sitting in an interrogation room, quietly wondering if the image of Lisbon crying because he'd found a way to hurt her again would be the last picture he'd ever have of her.
Since then, he'd learned what she tasted like, how it felt to hear her say she loved him, and that she smiled in her sleep when he kissed her forehead.
All supremely important things. The most important things he had learned in a lifetime, in fact.
Lisbon moved slightly, trying to snuggle in closer, eyes still closed. In truth, he was a bit scared for when she would wake up. Everything was perfect in this moment - he could live in it forever, if someone would only suspend time.
He was blissful now, her sleeping weight precious in his arms.
What would happen later? How did they go about being together?
He hadn't been in a relationship in an eternity, and he was a profoundly different man now than he had been then.
One thing he was certain of - they would do this on her terms, by her rules, at least when it was still so new. He'd made the poor woman live her life under his conditions for thirteen years. It was past time for some reciprocation.
He was nervous for what that would entail. She would demand honesty, expect him to be open. In a moment, some of his fears ebbed. He realized he had been nothing but honest and open with her for the past thirty six hours, and the only thing that had felt was extraordinary good.
Because of the way he had lived his life, it was terrifying, putting his heart in someone else's hands. She could hurt him, deeply, permanently.
But that was now a risk he had to take.
Lisbon shifted again, and he watched, fascinated, as her lashes rose. "Good morning, sweetheart," he whispered, the endearment slipping out without thought.
She smiled up at him, sleepily, sweetly. "Morning," she murmured, stretching under the covers before settling back against his chest.
He knew when to take a hint. Wrapping both arms back around her, he curled close, nose almost touching the back of her neck, and she hummed softly in approval. "Sleep well?" he asked, breathing in the scent of her skin.
"Very," she replied, fingers sliding between his. "You?"
"Like you wouldn't believe," he answered. This was true. Lisbon, not having any of his particular demons, couldn't imagine what it felt like to find peace after so long in tumult.
There were a few minutes of silence, but there was nothing uncomfortable about in. On the contrary, it was content, two people realizing they were both finally were they wanted to be.
"I love you so much," he breathed into her hair, and he swore she shivered.
"I love you, too," came her sure answer, and it was impossible now to not believe her, impossible now to not know he was loved.
She rolled to face him, then frowned, reaching up. He didn't understand until he felt her brush at his cheeks; he was in tears. "Sorry," he whispered, a touch embarrassed. "I'm a little emotional, I guess. It's been a strange couple of days."
A vast understatement, if he'd ever made one.
Lisbon smiled tenderly at him, eyes warm and amused. Her hands slid into his hair, and he had to close his eyes at the sensation. She tugged gently on him, and he leaned down, finding her lips.
This was the third time they'd kissed. He was going to make a point to remember every single one.
He was braver this time, coaxing her mouth open, feeling his blood surge when her tongue touched his. His hand fell to her waist, fingers brushing the downy skin that was exposed there. In an instant, it was the most intimate they had ever been.
He kissed her neck, ran his nose across her collarbone, nuzzled into the cotton of her shirt where it covered the valley between her breasts.
Not wanting to push, he raised his head and gave her a wide smile.
She was a little flushed, and it made him inordinately pleased.
He stole a quick kiss (number four, he noted), then rested his head on her chest, listening to her heart resume its normal rhythm. She stroked his hair, his shoulders, touch soothing and exhilarating all at once.
"This is a nice way to wake up," Lisbon noted, voice teasing.
He hummed in agreement. Personally, he hoped they could wake up this way every morning. It was still too early to say such things out loud, however. "It was a nice way to fall asleep, too," he nearly whispered instead.
He felt her take a deep breath. "Maybe we could do it again tonight?" She tried hard to sound light, confident, but he heard the underlying tension.
"Hm," he mused. "That depends. Which state would you like to wake up in - Texas or Florida?"
Her fingers continued playing with his hair, and he resisted the urge to purr. "Well," she said, "I do have a house in Texas. One that is suddenly in need of unpacking."
He smiled against her shirt, mostly in relief. One more affirmation that she wasn't leaving. "Texas it is then."
Mentally, he started to make a list of things that needed to get accomplished. Booking a flight, for one. Ordering breakfast was certainly on the agenda as well. Right now, however, he simply couldn't bring himself to move, to extract himself from the warm circle of her arms.
He had been so tired for years now, so cold. All he wanted was a soft place to land. And here he was, surrounded by gentle caresses and down comforters, silky hair and plush pillows. If he was a religious man, he might have thought that this was a little like heaven, where the weary finally get to rest.
Twenty minutes later, all that had been accomplished was that he had fallen back asleep.
When he woke, he was in the bed by himself, and he frowned. Not what he wanted.
He propped himself up on his elbows, peering blearily around the room. Lisbon was visible in the bathroom, hair pulled up again, applying make-up. He saw her reflection in the mirror look up, probably in response to the rustling of the covers. When she noticed his eyes were open, she smiled and turned.
"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty. I was wondering if you were going to be dead to the world for the rest of the day." She was dressed casually in jeans and a floaty-looking top. She looked...happy.
He smiled a little wryly. "Why didn't you wake me up?"
She crossed the room and perched on the edge of the bed, pushing his hair off of his forehead. "Because you're cute when you're sleeping."
His grin turned stupid, and he caught her hand, kissing her knuckles.
"You might want to get upright," she went on, smiling herself. "Room service will be here any minute, and after that, we need to head for the airport."
Typical Lisbon. Already taking care of everything.
He tugged on the end of her ponytail, pulled her in for a light kiss (five). "Have I mentioned that I adore you?"
Her cheeks were rosy as she answered. "Not in about two hours."
He kissed her again. Six. "I adore you."
And then her arms were loosely around his neck, her forehead on his shoulder. He could feel her smiling.
Room service chose then to knock, and he sighed as he flipped back the blankets and slid out of bed.
She had ordered him eggs, and he grinned as he tried to eat and dress at the same time. Lisbon flitted around the room, throwing things in bags and re-checking things on her phone. It buzzed once, and he saw a shadow cross her face as she read her new message.
He would have bet anything that it was Pike.
Almost fearful, he watched her type out a reply, then shove the device in her pocket. In another moment, she had crossed to where he stood buttoning the cuffs on his shirt and wrapped her arms around him from behind.
His eyes fluttered shut for a second. Regardless of Pike, she was still his.
He turned, tucking her head beneath his chin, fingers laced at the small of her back. "Ready to go home?" he murmured.
Home. Now there was novel concept.
Apparently, Lisbon felt the same way, for he saw goosebumps on her exposed skin. "Yes," she whispered to him, lips grazing his shirt as she spoke.
Four hours later, they touched down in Austin, and he let out a deep breath.
The rest of the day was spent reorganizing her house. Basically, he followed her orders, having sadly no idea where most of her things went. He'd never spent much time in her house before, either in Texas or California.
They took several breaks, usually at his insistence, and he refused to let her get back to work without kissing her at least once. Once, this lead to a fairly intense make-out session amidst the open boxes that housed her kitchen, and he wondered if he'd ever be able to look at saucepans again without getting a little aroused.
She was the one that pulled away, smiling even if her breathing was rapid. He could still feel her bare skin against his fingers.
It was late in the evening when she declared work done for the day.
"You know," she remarked conversationally, sitting next to him on the couch and handing him a glass of wine, "you never did tell me if we could go to sleep the same way we did last night."
"That's true," he admitted, pausing to clink his glass lightly against hers. "What do you think? Can we manage it?"
She kissed him (twenty one) and he tasted wine. "Won't know unless we try." Abruptly, her smile faded. "I mean, if you want."
He frowned, setting both of their glasses down. "And why would I not?"
She shrugged, a little helplessly. "I don't know," she said, sounding flustered. "I just...I don't want to rush you. You haven't been with anyone in...a really long time, and I don't know what's too much."
He blinked. This was unexpected. He took her hands, running his thumbs across her wrists. "You're right," he told her quietly. "I haven't done this in a very, very long time." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "Until now, until yesterday, I've been alone, almost completely. I've held myself apart, pulled away. It was...difficult." That was a definite understatement. "And now, you've given me what I never thought I'd have again." Her eyes were wet, and he absently brushed a tear away from her pale cheek. "I love you," he whispered. "And I can't imagine not wanting to fall asleep with you in my arms ever again."
Another tear spilled over his fingers, and he took her face in his hands. "Okay," she choked out, voice thick.
He stood, held out a palm to her. "Let's go to bed."
For the second night in a row, she slept on his chest.
And, for the second night in a row, he got to sleep in a real bed. He didn't remember the last time that had happened. Tonight was better though. It was Lisbon's bed. Someday, he hoped it would be theirs.
The idea of a home, of having somewhere he belonged, was powerful. Breathtaking. He was unprepared for the wave of want that crashed into him, and he swallowed hard.
In her sleep, reacting to his tension, Lisbon snuggled deeper into his embrace, fingers sliding across his stomach in an unconscious caress.
Yes, he belonged here.