March 30, Spring, year 36

Kids are off spending the night with friends… Lauren's over at Nami and Gus's, Jamie and Meri are with Muffy and Griffin, and Alan and Mirei went to stay with Celia and Marlin.

House to ourselves, how completely nice… And Skye has been making plans, so I know something is up…

Skye slipped up behind Claire, who's head was bent over her journal, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

Claire had been so deep in thought that she jumped about half a foot, head smacking the underside of Skye's chin, and sent her pen flying across the room. The silver haired man stumbled back, rubbing his chin and wincing as Claire rubbed the top of her head and swore very softly.

"Uh… sorry?" Skye offered sheepishly when she half turned in her chair to scowl in his direction.

"Haven't I told you not to do that?" she demanded with a faintly annoyed huff. "You know how distracted I get when I write…"

"I thought you were reading," he chuckled faintly. "My apologies."

She huffed out another sigh, but couldn't quite keep from smiling, even as she went to retrieve the flung pen. It was safer to get her attention when reading… but only barely.

"Do I dare ask what the plans are for tonight?" and her smile was impish as she glanced over her shoulder at him.

"You could ask, but then where would the surprise be?"

"You mean other than the fact that you actually told me?"

Skye snorted, amused, and propped one hand on his hip, shaking a finger at her mock-reprovingly. Claire just cracked up.

"Honey, I love you, but you look so… stereotypical gay when you do that!"

She had to lean against the back of the couch to stay upright, and Skye just grinned. He knew he looked like a fop, and exploiting that fact to make her laugh was always worth it.

And with all the children, nights to themselves were rare enough. The kids having friends close to their own age made it relatively easy to get them out of the house on special night.

Like this one.

As Claire's laughter died away into faint spurts of giggles, the former thief dropped his pose and moved over to her, reaching out to brush some of her hair from her face. Claire leaned automatically into the touch, smile softening.

"Not even a hint?" her eyes glittered with humor.

"You're impossible," he chuckled.

"Ah, but would you still love me if I was anything else?"

Any answer he gave could be potentially hazardous, so… he cheated, leaned in and kissed her. Slim, strong arms reached up to twine around Skye's neck, his own sliding around her waist to pull her closer.

The rest of the world became inconsequential, fading into the background as it so often did when they were just the two of them.

There was only one thing that could snap them out of it, when the house was empty like this.

Skye's nose twitched, and reluctantly he pulled back. Burning dinner—an likely by extent a part of the house—would certainly ruin the night.

Claire saw the expression on his face, and shook her head with a faint smile, releasing him.

"Don't burn dinner," se teased gently.

"Come and taste?"

"Why am I always the guinea pig?" she chuckled, following him into the kitchen.

"Because you volunteer," he teased back, waving a wooden spoon at her gently. "Besides, I taste too, you know."

"Well, of course," and Claire's blue eyes glittered with suppressed laughter. "How else do you manage to beat Ruby?"

He snorted, and reached out to ruffle her hair. She ducked under his hand, under his whole arm, and for a brief moment stood as close as she could to him in the most distracting of manner.

Then she 'stole' the wooden spoon, and gave the soup a taste, grinning up at the expression on Skye's face. He just smiled faintly down at her after a minute.

"You never change," he said, lightly poking her nose.

"Sure I do," and the reply held many meanings. "It's just more fun this way."

Though she hadn't meant it to, she could see that her words had caused a familiar pain. Promptly, she turned off the stove, placing a lid on the soup to keep it from cooling too rapidly, and reached up to press her hands to his cheeks.

He reached up and covered them, trying to smile for her benefit, but the look in her eyes halted it. Gentle warmth, regret, and a deep, endless love. Slowly he bent until he could rest his head against her shoulder.

An inadvertent reminder that her lifespan was so limited, that someday he would wake and she would no longer be beside him… it hurt to think about, which was why he tried to keep it as far from his mind as possible.

She ran her hands through his silver hair, not saying a word. Nothing needed to be said, the years had taught her this, and already she was doing everything she could to soothe him.

Softly Claire began to hum an old lullaby, one that she sang to Meri every night before the child would allow herself to sleep. The familiarity of the song made the tension in Skye's shoulders ease, and after several minutes more, he pulled back. His eyes were bright with tears her refused to shed, not because it would be unmanly but because they would be premature tears, and mourning for something not yet lost would damage more than it would heal.

"Come," and Claire's voice was soft, gentle. "Let's eat."

They curled together on the couch, watching an old movie. Skye's attention was more on his wife than the movie, as unbidden worries began to filter into his mind.

He'd been keeping it back for a long time, since before he'd realized that he was in love with her, knowing full well that the knowledge would make him restless and unwilling to remain.

But this life they had together… how could he end that with a sudden sharp finality, just because he was afraid to see her die? It would destroy the both of them, he knew that full well, not to mention the children who wouldn't understand.

"Claire…"

"No," she said firmly, not looking away from the movie. "We've had this discussion Skye, I'm who I am, and immortality would change that too much. Please… just enjoy the time we've got. I'm not going to die any time soon."

He sighed, resting his chin on her head. It was one point upon which she would give no ground—another being that of a sixth child—and sometimes it was downright frustrating.

Be he saw her point as well. She didn't often take a long view on something because she didn't have the time to take a long view. Her quick mannerisms, cheerful demeanor, and absolute stubborn ability… all traits of a mortal who's farthest future worry was usually how to keep the kids out of trouble.

It would change her, to make her immortal like he was. She could live a full life in the short span of years she was given, what right had he to ask her to watch friends, and family fade into nothing more than sparks of memory?

She reached up, lightly running her fingers through his hair. As always, her touch was soothing, and he shifted so that it was his cheek instead of his chin resting on her head.

"I love you."

It was an apology. Claire simply curled a littler more into his embrace.

"I know," she murmured. "I love you too."

I do feel bad for rejecting it outright the way I keep having to do, but… Even for the man I love I won't change who I am. My life is important to me because it is so short and so I must live every day to the fullest I can make it.

Being an immortal… the changes that would make… I don't like the thought of it at all. Outliving friends and family?

I'll pass. I love him enough to die for him, but I just can't…