I do not own Blindspot or its characters.
It was nearly four by the time they reached the B&B. They had lingered at the recreation area to explore after they finished sledding, finding a short nature trail they were tentatively planning to return to hike and a covered ice rink that they were definitely going to be spending some time at. Jane had positively glowed when Kurt mentioned that he knew how to ice skate and offered to teach her.
Jane's mouth fell open as she caught sight of the lavish country inn. When Kurt had explained to her what a B&B was, she had been expecting a large house, but this place was more hotel than family dwelling, opulent but at the same time possessing a rustic country charm that instantly appealed to her. She just knew that the grounds would be beautifully manicured under the layer of snow blanketing them, and she smiled as she caught sight of the misty lake in the background before returning her attention to the building. The twinkling of the Christmas lights made her feel instantly at home, and she was out of the car almost as soon as it had come to a stop, turning this way and that as she attempted to take it all in.
Kurt chuckled as he hastened to join her. "I take it this place meets with your approval."
"How could it not?" Jane asked in wonderment. "It's breathtaking."
So are you, he thought as she twirled around again, and suddenly the week before him seemed interminable. How had he ever thought a platonic honeymoon was a good idea? If ever two concepts didn't go together, it was those. How was he ever supposed to survive a week where the two of them spent every waking—and sleeping—moment together and not give in to the urge to hug her and kiss her like he wanted to? To make love to her?
He tried to put those thoughts out of his mind as they checked in, but his first glimpse of their room brought them back full-force. It was spacious and tastefully furnished, but unlike at home the bedroom and sitting areas were combined. Which meant that they would be living practically on top of one another the entire week with nowhere to go when the other was bathing. Or dressing. Or undressing.
Jane was delighted with their accommodations. "It's beautiful," she exclaimed to the woman who had shown them to their room. The rustic furniture perfectly complemented the setting, and there was a fire blazing in the large stone fireplace. Rose petals were strewn throughout the room as well and all around the Jacuzzi in the bathroom.
"I'm glad you like it, dear," the woman told her. "Your friend payed for our honeymoon package for the first two nights, and a romance package the remaining four, so there are chocolate-covered strawberries for you to enjoy—" she motioned to the plate on the table beside a bouquet of roses, "and you also get a candlelit dinner each night in our dining room. Your reservation tonight is at seven. Oh, and we'll be serving you breakfast in bed in the morning. Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Weller." With a last smile, she slipped out to give the two some privacy.
Jane grinned at Kurt as she set her bags down. "It still sounds strange to hear people call me that. Mrs. Weller." She'd figured they would be divorced before she ever got used to it, but now . . . She walked over to the table and inspected the strawberries. "These look good. I don't think I've ever had a chocolate-covered one before." She glanced over at him as she bit into one and was startled to find his eyes already fastened on her with a thrilling intensity. Perhaps she had been too hasty to dismiss Zapata's assertion that Kurt was still interested in her.
She decided to test the waters a bit. "Do you want one?" she asked as she held the plate out to him, keeping her eyes locked on his as she slowly, deliberately, finished the remainder of her own berry. This time she was certain: the flash in his eyes was definitely desire. Good.
Oh, he wanted one, all right. He wanted her to feed him one. He wanted to feed the rest to her. In bed. Right before he . . . Jane cleared her throat, and Kurt belatedly realized she was still waiting for an answer to her question. "No," he said, much more gruffly than he had intended, softening his response with a brief smile before moving to stare out the window at the backyard. The hunger he felt wasn't one that could be sated by mere food. Unfortunately, that was all that was on the menu.
Jane hid her smile as she set the plate down and moved to join him. There was no way she was letting him put distance between them now that she knew he felt the same as she did. "Beautiful, isn't it?" she asked as she slipped an arm around his waist and leaned her head against his shoulder. He stiffened, and for a moment she thought he was going to push her away, but then he relaxed and pulled her into his arms.
Kurt couldn't contain his surprise when Jane hugged him. She hadn't initiated this level of physical contact since he'd handed her over to the CIA. He'd honestly never thought she would again. "It is," he agreed, referring to more than just the snow-covered lawn. He pressed a kiss to the top of her hair and rested his chin atop her head for a moment.
And then he dropped his arms and stepped back.
Kurt could feel Jane's confusion as he turned away and hefted the first of his suitcases onto the bed. "I, uh . . . Dinner will be here before we know it, so we should probably get unpacked before then. We can explore this place a little afterwards." Anything to escape this room for as long as possible.
If that was how he wanted to play it, she'd let him—for now. Up to a point. "Okay," Jane agreed as she opened her first suitcase, "but if we're going to fool the INS into thinking we're really married, Kurt, we should probably use this week to get more . . . comfortable with one another. Don't you agree?"
Kurt's head snapped up at her words. Her eyes met his innocently enough, but he could have sworn there was just a glimmer of a twinkle in their green depths. "You mean . . ." His voice was hoarse, and he had to clear his throat twice before he could go on. "You've decided to take my offer? To stay married?"
Temporarily, he reminded himself as he heard the hope in his voice. This was only temporary. He knew it was the height of insanity to want to remain tied to the object of his desire when she would never reciprocate his feelings after everything that had happened, but he couldn't seem to help himself. He would rather keep her tied to him as a friend in this platonic marriage than lose her entirely to another man.
"The idea is . . . growing on me," Jane admitted. More and more with every passing second. "But I think if we're going to do this, we're going to need to be more . . . intimate with one another. More . . . open about our feelings. Don't you agree?"
All he heard was the word intimate. Which brought to mind the very vivid dreams he'd been having of her in the lingerie Zapata had bought her. Not an image he needed right now. "Uh . . . sure," Kurt said hastily as he picked up an armload of shirts and headed to the closet to hang them up.
Jane scooped up a pile of her own tops and followed him. She didn't notice the box that fell to the floor as she did so, and they worked in companionable silence for several minutes. She took every opportunity to brush up against Kurt as they did so, noting with amusement how he always leaned into her touch before catching himself and putting some distance between them once more. He was fighting her, but it was a losing battle.
Kurt finished before her and turned back toward the bed, but he froze when he spotted a box on the floor on her side of it. A very familiar box. He bent down and picked it up. "Jane? Why did you pack condoms?"
Jane hung her last top just as Kurt said her name in a tone of voice that clued her in that something was up. "I didn't," she said as she walked over to him and took the box from his hand. "Zapata must have slipped them in there." She'd been the last one out of their bedroom after they finished packing.
Kurt's eyes narrowed at her matter-of-fact tone of voice. "And that doesn't . . . bother you?" He'd expected her to be more upset at the idea that one of their coworkers was attempting to induce them to sleep together. Well, to do more than just sleep together.
"Why should it?" Jane shrugged. "It's condoms, Kurt, not a poisonous snake. Totally harmless." She set the box on the nightstand and returned her attention to her suitcase, lifting out the lingerie Zapata had bought her that she insisted she bring along. "You know, Zapata did mention on our shopping trip yesterday that you'd been like a bear with a thorn in his paw to a number of agents lately." Several times, in fact. She had probably packed the condoms in hopes that he would return in a better frame of mind. "What's up with that?"
Kurt's eyes tracked Jane as she carried the underwear to the dresser and placed it in the top drawer. "It's nothing. I've just been a little . . . stressed lately."
"Oh yeah?" Jane took a seat at the foot of the bed near him. "Want to talk about it?"
"Not really," Kurt muttered as he took his own underclothes and placed them in the drawer below hers. She had left plenty of room in the drawer beside hers for him, he'd noted, but somehow it felt just a little too intimate to have their undergarments side by side like that.
And he would be damned if his underwear got to touch hers, and he didn't.
Jane sighed. "This isn't going to work if we're not honest with one another, Kurt. You can't just bottle up all your feeling inside all the time. It's not healthy, and I certainly don't want to have to do that. I want to be able to confide in you when something is bothering me, but I won't be able to do that if it's not a two-way street. I—"
"I want you, okay?" Kurt burst out. "I know I have no right to feel that way, and I certainly don't expect you to feel the same after I handed you over to the CIA, but being close to you lately and not being able to touch you has been torture for me." Waking up with her in his arms morning after morning was the most exquisite hell he'd ever endured, but he wouldn't trade it for the world. He gestured around them. "And now we're going to be cooped up together this week in here, and I—mmph."
Jane stood and pressed her lips to his, effectively stopping him from talking. Kurt was so stunned for an instant that he stood stock still, not even kissing her back, and then instinct took over as his arms tightened around her, crushing her to him, and his mouth devoured hers.
They were both breathing heavily when they finally broke the kiss, and Jane smiled tenderly up at Kurt as he gazed at her with dawning wonder in his eyes. "I want you, too," she told him simply. "And the past is the past. It's forgiven. So . . ." she drew out the word, ". . . what do you say we finish the unpacking later and get this honeymoon started right? Take me to bed, husband mine."
Kurt's hands came up to frame her jaw as he leaned in for another kiss. "Jane," he whispered when he was finally able to tear his lips from hers, "you know if we do this, it will . . . change things, right?" If they did this, he would never, ever be able to let her go. She would truly be his till death did them part.
"I know," Jane agreed. They would essentially be married friends with benefits, which would complicate things between them immensely and make it nearly unbearable for her when the time came for them to part, but she would rather live with the bittersweet memories she would store up than regret never having made them. She took his hand and led him to the bed. "Make love to me, Kurt."
Kurt held her gaze for a long moment, and whatever he saw there must have reassured him because he hastily yanked their suitcases off the bed and tossed them out of the way on the floor. Then he was kissing her again, and she could think of nothing else except the way his lips felt on hers, the taste of him, the gentle slide of his tongue against hers.
His hands slid beneath her shirt, and she lifted her arms so he could remove it completely, smiling at his groan when he caught sight of her bra and realized she was wearing the most functional of the lingerie sets Zapata had bought. Then it was her turn to moan as his hand came up to cup her breast, his thumb brushing over a nipple.
They shed the remainder of their clothes eagerly, happily. Somehow what was happening between them felt too right to be shy about baring their bodies to one another, to be concerned about the lack of romance leading up to this. He would make up for that later, Kurt promised himself as he lifted Jane onto the bed and followed her down. She deserved all of that, and more.
As frenetic as everything had begun, time seemed to stand still once they were both lying next to each other. Jane had expected Kurt to be as impatient a lover as he was a leader, but instead he slowed things down, kissing and caressing every inch of her with a thoroughness that was nearly her undoing before he pushed her over the edge that first time.
His tenderness brought tears to her eyes, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from uttering those three little words—I love you—as he joined their bodies for the first time, and they truly became one flesh. Here, as before, he refused to be rushed, setting a slow and gentle pace, making love to her as she had asked, wanting this first time to be memorable. Wanting to be everything she wanted and needed for the rest of her life.
How was she ever going to live without this? Jane wondered as she felt the pressure building inside her. How had she ever lived without it? Without him? Their first time together, and somehow she knew instinctively, even without her memories, that it had never been like this. That what they had was special, rare, and it would never be like this with anyone else. At least not for her. She sped up the motion of her hips and Kurt met her thrust for thrust, neither of them able to hold back any longer, and they came together, clutching one another tightly, their hearts beating as one.
They were together, and they were in love, but in some ways, they had never been further apart.