MAKING UP

Angela slammed the plate into the sink, scrubbing with a ferocity she usually reserved for fire fights. It was a very good thing their dishes were tin, or she'd have a hell of a mess on her hands. Of course, with the mood she was in, she might not mind. Hell, a little pain might actually help clear her head.

God! He was such an idiot.

He never listened to her. No, Dingo was always right. And, okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. He actually listened to her a lot, even asked her opinion most of the time. And he did know a lot more than she did about life on the surface. But still. He never listened to her when it mattered.

Or. Well . . . he hadn't listened to her this once. And, actually, it hadn't turned out so bad, but that didn't mean she was happy about it. It would have been better her way. Definitely.

And if he'd just done things her way they wouldn't be arguing and she wouldn't be out here at ten at night washing dishes instead of back in their room doing . . . other things, and she wouldn't have avoided him all day, and she wouldn't be so damn miserable.

It was all Dingo's fault! Totally.

The familiar scrape and grind of the trailer door being opened caused Angela's form to stiffen involuntarily.

Where had he been all day anyway? She hadn't seen him since the argument this morning. What was the point of avoiding him if he wasn't even around to notice?

Unconsciously she tracked the sound of his footsteps and was surprised when they halted only a few steps in. She'd expected him to head for the bedroom addition. He'd ripped out one end of the trailer shortly after she'd moved in two and a half years ago to add on two bedrooms, leaving the bulk of the trailer a kitchen slash living area.

Dingo released a heavy sigh and then his footsteps resumed. Blame it on the metal walls of the trailer, but she didn't notice he was getting closer until strong arms slid gently around her waist from behind.

Angela froze, a tin cup in one hand, a rag in the other. Okay. That was . . . unexpected. Last she'd checked he wasn't too happy with her either.

He brushed her hair over one shoulder with a delicate sweep and then began pressing slow, tender kisses along the length of her spine where it was exposed above the low back f her tanktop.

Her breath caught in her throat and everything in her wanted to give in, to melt back into him and the pleasant familiarity of his touch – of his love. But she was hurt and angry, and she wasn't going to let him have his way, so she forced herself to remain stiff.

She suppressed a shudder as he sucked on the skin at her nape.

"It's late. Come to bed," he murmured against her skin.

She shook her head, a difficult feat with his lips still brushing the skin on the back of her neck. "I'll sleep out here."

He sighed and the kisses stopped as his forehead rested between her shoulder blades. He was silent for so long she thought maybe he'd fallen asleep, but then he took a deep breath.

"Our relationship isn't a weapon, sweetheart."

She bristled. "I'm not a child—"

"Not sayin' you are," he interrupted gently, head raising as his mouth moved to hover beside her ear. "But I'm guessing relationships worked a little differently on DEVA." How could he sound so gentle when he was essentially scolding her?

Unless he wasn't scolding her at all.

She forced herself to remain calm, to listen, because he was probably right about that. Everything in DEVA seemed less real. If a relationship didn't work out, you ended it. No harm, no foul. There were a million other fish in the sea, and it wasn't as though anyone needed a romantic partner. But here, people had to depend on one another. They needed each other to survive.

"This is a contract," Dingo continued, his hands brushing feather-light along the bare flesh of her exposed arms. "Just like our partnership. You're allowed to be mad at me, but you can't shut me out or walk away."

She squeezed her eyes shut tight. Damn it, he was right.

She deflated, back leaning into his warm chest. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

He allowed her to turn in his arms, then braced his hands on either side of her against the sink. His eyes searched hers and he leaned in to kiss her softly.

"That was wrong of me," she admitted when he ended the kiss.

He shook his head. "You don't have to agree with me, Ange. Not all the time. And God knows I'm wrong often enough, but don't shut down afterwards. We have to talk these things out."

"Okay," she agreed softly.

His lips brushed hers again. "I'm sorry too, you know. Forgive me?"

She nodded. "Forgive me?" It was embarrassing to ask, but if he could do it so could she.

His lips brushed her ear. "You don't ever have to ask."

Her fingers tightened on his lapels and he wrapped his arms around her in a comforting embrace. After a moment he pulled away with a grin.

"Look at that," he drawled. "We just survived our first fight as a couple."

She arched a brow, hip twitching to cant to one side, only he still had her caged between his body and the sink. "I don't see why you're so happy about that," she said.

He lifted a hand to capture a lock of her hair and slide it through his fingers. As he reached the end of the strands he captured them and raised them to his lips to brush a soft kiss there. It was strangely intimate. "Because we also just had our first reconciliation," he near-whispered.

"So?"

"So?" He let her hair fall and reached to tweak her nose lightly. "What do they teach you up there? Don't you know that the best part of having a lover's quarrel is the making up?"

"What?" Her nose scrunched. How did that make any sense?

He sighed, shaking his head as if deeply disappointed. His hand skimmed lightly from her nose to her ear and he let two fingers slide down along her jaw line until they reached her chin, then he used them to tilt her face to his and kiss her breathless.

"There is no sex better than make up sex," he told her. And then he lifted her to sit on the counter and smoothly slid between her spread knees, hands already working at her belt.

She grinned and pulled him in for another kiss. She was growing rather fond of these surface sayings of his – and she had a feeling she was going to like this one a lot.

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A/N: If you're wondering what the fight was about you might be focusing on the wrong aspect of this story (wink). Thanks for reading.

reenas-as