Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize that THEY own ME. :)
Kurt sent Sawyer off to bed and turned out the lights downstairs, double checking that the doors were locked out of habit, even though he was sure that Sarah, the hyper-vigilant one of the two of them, would have already checked as well. If being back in this house reminded him of anything, it was that you couldn't be too careful. After all, if his own father could get away with…
Don't go there, he told himself as he climbed the stairs, trying to tread lightly so that he didn't wake Sarah or Jane. At least, he assumed that Jane had gone to sleep…
He and Sawyer had played video games until much later than they should have, and he knew it. He didn't regret it, however – there were just so few chances for the two of them to do anything like that now. When they'd lived in the same apartment, Kurt's job had made it hard enough to find time to spend time with the kid, but now… now that Sarah and Sawyer had moved across the country, it was pretty much impossible. He hoped that Sarah wouldn't be too upset with him for letting Sawyer stay up so late, but deep down he was fairly certain that she wouldn't mind. He knew that she was as happy to see the two of them spend time together as the two of them were to do it.
Pausing at the top of the stairs, he was surprised when he saw light coming from under the door of his old bedroom. Surely, Jane wasn't still awake… She hadn't said goodnight when Sarah had, but then again, she'd known that she'd be seeing him before morning.
He felt a twinge of guilt at leaving her to her own devices for the evening – but they had lots of time ahead of them, whereas his time with Sawyer was limited. Besides, he'd been with her non-stop all weekend.
And yet… you missed her tonight, didn't you? the voice in his head asked in amusement.
Yes I did, he admitted to himself. There's nothing wrong with that.
When he slowly opened the door to the bedroom, he couldn't help but smile at her fondly. She had fallen asleep reading the book that now lay beside her, her cheek pressed into the pillow and her hair hanging down over her eyes. It seemed that somehow, even those few hours apart had given him a renewed appreciation for her. He wanted nothing more than to climb into bed beside her then and there, but he forced himself to find his pajamas and slip back out of the room to the bathroom to brush his teeth and change.
After what felt like it took an unreasonably long time, most likely due to his impatience, he was closing the door behind him a second time, remembering to lock it this time. Once again he found himself standing in the middle of the room, drinking in the sight of her. Reminding his tired feet to move, he left his dirty clothes on top of his bag and turned off the light, waiting for a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dark before walking carefully to the edge of the bed. He moved the book from beside her, setting it on the desk nearby, and pulled back the covers slowly, trying not to disturb her. She'd fallen asleep on her side, facing him, and he laid down and scooted himself toward her, leaning forward to kiss her forehead.
As soon as he did, he saw a smile stretch across her face in the dark, and her eyes fluttered halfway open. "Hey," she said simply, smiling at him. "I missed you."
He couldn't tell if she was actually awake or not, and he was fairly sure she wouldn't remember this conversation in the morning. As much as he didn't want to risk waking her up any further, he couldn't help but reply.
"I missed you, too," he whispered, snaking his left arm under her neck and around her back to pull her closer. "Now go back to sleep."
"Okay," she replied, her eyes already closing. "I know I'll sleep better now that you're here." With that, she seemed to pass out again, her head on his shoulder as a pillow, her left arm across his chest. Kurt, on the other hand, tired though he was, lay and listened to her slow breathing for a little while, his left hand on her back. Suddenly he was in awe of everything that had happened between them all over again.
Overwhelmed by the events of the few days they'd been in Clearfield, he pressed his cheek down against her forehead, his eyes closing against an onslaught of emotions rather than due to tiredness. Of course, he was tired, but his mind was very much awake. Even if Jane had been awake, he got the feeling that he wouldn't have been able to express to her everything that he was feeling at that moment, and this only made him pull her tighter to him.
It wasn't long – only a few minutes – before his mind began to relax enough for tiredness to take over. He could feel himself drifting off to sleep, lulled by the sound of her breathing, feeling more relaxed than he could remember feeling for a very, very long time.
So this is what it's like, he thought just before he surrendered to sleep. Happiness. He couldn't help but smile.
Jane awoke with dim sunlight filtering into the room around the curtains. Once again, as she always did, she took stock of her surroundings before even opening her eyes, and once again she couldn't help but smile when she realized that Kurt's arm was wrapped around her back. Her own arm was draped over him, and she was using him as a pillow. Waking up with him really was addictive. It was going to be hard to go back home, go back to waking up alone in her safe house…
She felt a pang in her chest, an emptiness that threatened to swallow her then and there, at that thought, and she did her best to push it away. Depending on the weather, they could be leaving that very day. In a few hours, even. They'd been planning to go back the previous day, so really, every hour that they spent there now was a bonus, on top of the gift of this trip. She knew she was being greedy by wishing that they could stay even longer, but she simply couldn't help it.
Here, she knew what to expect, knew where they stood with him – well, sort of. Back at home, in New York, where they weren't stuck in the same house by weather and a holiday weekend, but instead each had their own places, where work would undoubtedly pull them in separate directions, especially since Kurt was technically her boss… No, back in New York, she didn't know what would happen, or how things would be between them.
Of course, she wanted to believe that it could be the way it was at that moment. But despite how very badly she wanted to believe that what had happened between them wasn't going to disappear just because of a change in scenery, the idea that it could be like this… that they could simply be happy together, it just seemed too easy. After all, nothing had come easy for her so far…
Wait… You're saying this has been easy? the voice in her head asked, almost laughing at her. You're kidding, right? If there's one word I would use to describe things between you and Kurt, 'easy' would not be it… not in a million years.
Okay, fine, she thought. It hasn't been easy. But it's… it's good. Right now. I'm happy.
So, what's the problem? You think you're not allowed to be happy? the voice asked.
She knew that she was supposed to say yes, of course she was allowed to be happy, but she just couldn't – not even to herself. When it came down to it, after everything she knew that she – er, Remi – had done, only a fraction of which she remembered, it felt impossible that she deserved this much happiness. If she really thought about it, it seemed impossible that she deserved happiness, period.
Kurt would, of course, argue vehemently against this kind of logic, and she knew that she should, too… Instead, she simply tried to push the thoughts from her mind completely. It would be healthier to deal with them, of course… but at that moment, it just felt like too much.
Finally opening her eyes, she smiled, the thoughts of her past immediately forgotten as she looked up at a sleeping Kurt. Shifting herself carefully, trying not to move too much, she pushed herself slowly up on her right elbow so that he could look at him at a better angle. She didn't know how she'd wound up lucky enough to be where she was just then, and at that moment she didn't care. The only thing that mattered was that she was there, that they were there. Of all the things and places and people in the world that she had forgotten, she couldn't help but feel like she wasn't missing anything. Her heart felt full to overflowing, after all – what else could she possibly need? She might not deserve it, but she had it. Him.
She lay there watching him, letting her left hand move to the back of his neck. His head was turned towards her, and her fingers slipped into the space between his skin and the pillow beneath him, moving only the tiniest bit without even realizing it. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully, judging from the serene expression on his face, and Jane thought back to the previous day, to the difference she'd seen in him after he'd said he'd seen Taylor the last time. It was like the suffocating hold that that house had had on him since their arrival had suddenly released him.
It must be nice, she thought. She wasn't bitter about it, she didn't think, and it wasn't that she wasn't immensely happy for him. She was happy for him, absolutely she was. Seeing him so much lighter made her feel lighter... at least temporarily.
But then why, if you do think you are allowed to be happy, as you see that serene expression on his face and imagine him sleeping so peacefully, does it give you that feeling in the pit of your stomach that you can't explain? the voice asked her bluntly.
With a sigh, she had to admit that the voice was right. As much as she was genuinely happy for him, she simply couldn't help but contrast his happiness to her own doubts, the ones that only came out at times like this, when she allowed her thoughts to wander. She hated this about herself. She should just be happy for him and she knew it. It wasn't his fault that her past was so dark and full of demons. No, it was her own fault, when it came down to it. After all, she had done this to herself.
It was Remi, the voice reminded her. It wasn't you. But she wasn't really listening.
Why do I feel like I'm going to be saying that for my whole life, and it's never going to make it better? she wondered sadly. She was already sick of hearing it from herself, as if those empty words were supposed to somehow make up for the horrible things that she'd done.
It's the truth, the voice piped up insistently. It's not an excuse.
As much as she wanted to believe it, it just seemed too easy.
Too easy? the voice repeated once again. Too easy like you and Kurt, which has been the opposite of easy? Do you even hear yourself?
She sighed, wishing Kurt would wake up. This was a big reason why she so dreaded going back to her safe house, she realized. Even this short amount of time alone – though not even physically alone – with her thoughts was already setting her back. Already, she felt herself tensing, the thoughts in her head whirling faster and faster.
Lowering her forehead against Kurt's chest and trying to focus only on the feeling of the rise and fall of this breathing beneath the soft cotton of his t-shirt, she felt herself instead getting more agitated instead of less.
Stop it, she ordered herself, but found her mind unwilling to cooperate. Tuning out everything around her except Kurt, she tried to focus on her own breathing – in and out, in and out… That helped a little, but she still felt the familiar sense that she was teetering on the verge of panic. She hadn't felt this way since the last night she'd spent at her safe house – Thursday night. It seemed like a million years ago now. Back in her safe house, these feelings were her nightly companions. She'd gladly forgotten about them since coming along on this trip, but it seemed that she hadn't left them behind in New York, after all.
Kurt had slept very well, even if it hadn't been for as many hours as he might have liked. With his job, he was used to going without sleep when necessary, so the sleep he had gotten had been plenty for the time being. Besides, with Jane curled up on his shoulder and his arm around her, he'd made up for quantity with quality. Once again he was delighted, as he had been every time he'd awoken with her beside him, to realize that it had not all been a dream.
No, thankfully it was all real, and Jane was still there with him. His eyes weren't even open yet, and already he felt himself smiling once again. It was something he'd been doing a lot more of over the past few days, and he liked the feeling.
As soon as he was halfway conscious, however, he could feel that something wasn't right. He felt Jane's forehead against his chest, her fingers behind his neck – not that he had any complaints about either of these, of course. But she was tense, he could feel immediately, and shaking slightly. Opening his eyes, he found himself looking at the top of her head. His left hand, which had been on her back, moved to her shoulder as his right hand came up to her head, smoothing back her hair.
"Hey," he said in a sleepy voice, but just as calmly as if he'd been continuing a conversation they'd had a few minutes before. "Are you ready to talk about it now?" Of course, it could have been something else that was bothering her, but somehow he knew that it wasn't. After all, he just seemed to be able to understand her. She'd probably woken up and, with nothing else to focus on, had let her mind wander to all the places where she normally fought so hard to keep it from going.
Her head was still against his chest when she heard his voice. The relief she felt that he was awake was so strong that it was almost tangible, and she was so relieved that she inhaled sharply.
How does he just know? she wondered.
Because he's Kurt, she reminded herself, and smiled despite the tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes.
Taking a deep breath, she lifted her head so that she could look into his eyes, finding them full of concern.
"Good morning," he said quietly, realizing that they'd skipped that step.
"Good morning," she managed to whisper. "I…" Sighing heavily, she looked down at his t-shirt in front of her.
He turned onto his left side to face her, which made her slide off his shoulder, back down onto the mattress.
"Scoot up this way," he told her, gently but insistently, and she shifted herself until their faces were even with each other.
Kurt leaned against his left hand, his elbow anchored against the pillow, while Jane folded her right arm under her head and avoided meeting his eyes. Her left hand was balled into a fist, not quite clenched, but also not sitting loosely where she held it close in front of her. His right hand went to her cheek, his thumb moving slowly back and forth against it, feeling her lean against his hand and then, for some reason, attempt to pull herself back.
He slowly let his hand drop from her cheek, and she felt the loss of the contact acutely. Without her consent, the familiar walls around her were already rebuilding themselves in seconds, and she felt powerless to do anything about it. On the contrary, she suddenly felt like she and Kurt were being wrenched farther and farther apart, despite the fact that they were lying just as close together as they had been all along.
"Hey," he said softly, putting his right hand over her left, which was now clenched tightly into a fist. Her eyes squeezed shut, and her breathing accelerated. Leaning forward until their foreheads touched, Kurt felt helpless to stop whatever it was that was happening inside her head. "Jane," he whispered, "Talk to me."
The problem was that Jane was good at protecting herself by shutting down lines of communication. She wasn't so good at the whole opening up thing. Despite how much she wanted to, at that moment it felt impossible.
"Okay, then I'm just going to have to start guessing," he told her calmly. "Did you have a nightmare?"
"No," he heard her whisper.
"Did you… remember something?" he asked. After all, though it wasn't happening as much anymore, it wasn't impossible – and lots of the memories that she'd had in the past had upset her. Most of them, really. This time she simply shook her head against him.
"Is it something to do with Sarah?" Again, she shook her head. Of course, he'd been fairly sure he'd known what the problem was from the beginning, but he was just ruling out all of the other possibilities that he could think of.
"Are you upset that I stayed up late with Sawyer last night?" he asked.
That one got her attention, and she looked up at him immediately, leaning back so that he could make eye contact. "Of course not," she insisted. "If anything, I feel like I've stolen time with you away from him this weekend. I'm glad you guys got a chance to play last night."
Glad to have finally gotten her to come out of her shell enough to talk to him, he nodded seriously, looked into her eyes and asked, "Is it about going back to New York?" When she looked away without replying, his suspicion was confirmed.
He was still holding onto her hand, which she held stiffly in front of her. Though her fist had only loosened slightly, her arm itself was less tense and he was able to lift her hand from where she held it so defensively. Keeping his hand wrapped around hers, he slowly pulled their hands closer to him, placing her fist over his heart.
Jane inhaled a slow, shaky breath. The intended meaning of his gesture was crystal clear, and she wanted to believe it. More than anything, she wanted to believe it.
"Jane," he whispered, leaning forward until both their foreheads and their noses were touching, "I know that I'm not good at this. And I know that you have no reason to trust me…"
Her head began shaking against his as soon as those words came out of his mouth, brushing their noses together. The sensation made her smile, despite all of the conflicting emotions that were swirling inside her.
"Don't say that," she protested softly. "I do trust you."
"Ssshhh," he told her soothingly. "I know that you want to, and that means a lot. It's more I deserve maybe…" She looked at him sternly, and his expression turned sheepish. "Sorry, I know… the deal…" They smiled at each other for a few seconds, understanding restored. "I also know that you being able to trust me is not quite as simple as just wanting to. I haven't quite earned it, maybe… Not yet. But I'm going to. That much I can promise you."
As she blinked repeatedly, tears were suddenly falling from her eyes. He was right, after all. She wanted to trust him, to believe that it was all going to be okay, but the reality was far more complicated. And despite their promise to each other in the car that they were 'even,' that didn't mean that all was forgotten. That was impossible. Forgiven, yes. But forgotten, no. Of course not. And she couldn't change the fact that really trusting anyone, even Kurt, would take time.
Reluctantly, he unwrapped his right hand from around her left, leaving it there over his heart. She'd uncurled her fingers, and her hand now lay flat against his shirt. Below her hand, she could feel the thump-thump of his heartbeat. He moved his back to her cheek, swiping at the tears there with his thumb, and looking at her sadly.
She had to force her head to remain upright, to stop herself from leaning into his hand on her cheek.
Why? the voice in her head asked. What are you trying to prove by holding back all of a sudden?
She didn't even know, only knew that everything inside her was just too raw, and she was fighting her emotions on too many fronts at once. He was right, of course… she wanted to trust him, but she wasn't quite ready, and she hated herself for it. She wanted to be ready, after all.
"I know that you have no memory of things going right," he told her quietly. "Come to think of it, I guess I don't really, either. But all I do know is…" He paused for a second to organize his thoughts. "We have a second chance – to do things right. And I don't intend to waste it." She nodded quickly, the nod that said that she agreed in theory, but that no matter how much she wanted to, she didn't quite believe it. This didn't escape his attention, of course.
"Jane," he said, and waited until her eyes, which had been looking anywhere but at him, focused back on him before he said any more. It took her a few seconds before she did, only looking up when she realized that he really wasn't going to go on until he had her full attention. "Going back to New York isn't going to change anything. Okay?" Her head moved up and down so slightly that had he not been touching her face, he face not even have registered the movement. "Okay, I admit, we won't be able to just sit around relaxing all day. It will change what we have to do…" he conceded. "After all, someone has to save the world, and apparently that's us," he added with a lopsided grin. "We're pretty good at it."
Smiling weakly, she nodded. "We make a good team," she said quietly.
Glad to see even a little bit of a smile on her face, he continued. "So, yes, we'll be a little busier. But this…" He paused, looking into her eyes to show exactly what he was talking about. "This is not going to change. I love you. I realized that I have for a long time. And even after everything that's happened, that hasn't gone away. If anything, everything we've been through has only made me love you more."
She looked at him uncertainly, her eyes asking a question that she was afraid to vocalize. But she knew that she needed to, because it was the only way to get the answer. "Even after…?" She wanted to say more, but she found that the rest of the words refused to come out. The expression on her face revealed to him just how much she dreaded hearing the answer to her own question.
Reaching his head up so that he could kiss her forehead, he returned his face to where it had been, pressed against hers once more. "You mean after you, the most honest and straightforward person I know, forced yourself to lie to me because you honestly thought it was the only way to save my life?" he asked, leaving her stunned for several seconds. She struggled to process what he had just said, having been bracing herself for something very different.
"What? No… That's not what… I should have—" she struggled with words in an attempt to correct him, but he was having none of it.
"You don't see it that way, I know, and that's my fault… but that is what happened. I didn't see it that way at first, either… I'm not proud of my behavior when I found out… But it's the truth, Jane. I see that now. And how could I not love you for that? On top of all the other things that I already loved you for?" he asked, leaning back, this time to kiss her on the nose, and then once again moving back to where he had been, pressing his nose and forehead against hers. He didn't know if the sustained contact with her would help her see how serious he was about what he was saying, but it seemed like it couldn't hurt. After all, they'd always reassured each other by touch in the past.
Jane looked down so sharply, her eyes were almost closed. Despite the fact that their foreheads and noses were already pressed together, Kurt couldn't help but feel that they still weren't close enough. His right hand slipped from her cheek, sliding around the back of her neck to the spot where he knew the oil derrick tattoo was, moving gently back and forth across her skin there. His nose shifted ever so slightly so that it slipped to the side of hers, so that the sides of their noses were still touching and their lips were now practically – though not quite – touching as well.
To her surprise, she felt herself gradually relaxing. She was almost breathing normally now, and as she relaxed, she slowly allowed herself to lean against him where she had been holding herself up stiffly just a minute before.
"I don't des—" she started, realizing too late exactly what was going to happen only a fraction of a second before it actually did.
"Yes, you do," he said, cutting her off. "We agreed on this already, remember?" They'd both spoken without moving away from each other, their lips still only a fraction of an inch apart. "You deserve even better. But I hope you'll settle for me."
She scoffed at him, her head shaking slightly. He can't actually think that there could be someone better… she thought. "That's not settling," she whispered, feeling a hint of their lips brush against each other for a fraction of a second, reminding her of just how close they were. "Settling implies that there's someone out there who's better for me. And I don't care if I do only know like… not even ten people in the whole world," she stopped to crack a smile at her own self-deprecating attempt at humor. "I already know that there isn't anyone better than you."
Warmed inside by her words, Kurt smiled broadly and finally leaned the last fraction of an inch forward so that their lips pressed together, kissing her so slowly that it almost felt like they were moving in slow motion. It wasn't too slow, though – on the contrary, it was perfect, as if they were savoring it. After all, they were.
When they finally stopped, they didn't pull apart. Instead, they just slowed down until they stopped moving, their lips still overlapping each other. He could feel her smile though he couldn't see her expression, even when he opened his eyes, since their faces were still so close together. All he could see were her eyes, which she'd just opened as well, and she was looking back into his. Ever since the first time they'd met, he'd been intrigued by her eyes and their brilliant green color.
Their lips remained gently pressed together, both of them seeming unwilling to let go, for almost a full minute. When they finally did pull back, smiling and feeling slightly self-conscious, it again felt like they were moving in slow motion. They didn't move far from each other, however, only just far enough for him to lean his nose against hers.
"It's going to be okay," he whispered, and she couldn't help but think back to the first time he'd told her that, a million years ago when they'd been strangers to each other.
That day, it had only been a matter of hours since they'd met, and yet he'd promised her something that he couldn't possibly know for sure. Yes, it had been his intention even then to do everything he could for her. That day had been even before he'd first suspected that she could be Taylor, when all he did know was that his name was inked on her back for a reason, albeit one that he didn't understand. Maybe he'd had no business making her such a promise that day, but he'd done it anyway.
Now it was different. He understood now… not the reason why Shepherd had wanted any of this to happen, or the reason why Remi had agreed to give up her own life, in effect, to send herself to the FBI. No, but he knew that the reason why his name had ended up on her back had been to bring them together. Not so that she could infiltrate the FBI, though that had been Sandstorm's goal… but so that they could save each other. None of them had known that that was the reason, perhaps, but it had simply been the way that it was supposed to happen.
She hadn't known what 'being okay' felt like back then, the first time he'd told her that she would be… but she did now. And not just 'okay,' but something so much more powerful than that. Maybe she had felt like this at some point in her life, back when she had been Alice and she'd had parents who had loved her. Before the orphanage. Before Shepherd. Before… everything that she'd done and couldn't – and didn't want to – remember.
Maybe she had felt this secure, this safe, this loved, when she was a child, but it had been so long ago, and her memory had been erased since then – twice, really… once through brainwashing and once chemically – that if such feelings had ever been familiar to her, all traces of them had been erased. Consequently, despite the fact that the feeling was everything she could have hoped for, that she'd wanted so desperately, it was simultaneously terrifying. She might not have known what 'okay' felt like before, but she certainly did know what it felt like to lose everything.
While the feeling of being okay, of being happy, may have scared her more than anything except possibly the idea that she could lose that feeling, what held her grounded solidly in that moment and reminded her to breathe was, well, right in front of her. Kurt. Staring into his eyes, even though she was afraid to believe that it could actually be okay, she knew that there was no one in the world who she could believe in more. She may have been afraid of her emotions, but she was not afraid of him. He was there with her, and as long as he was, it would be okay.
No, she hadn't known what being 'okay' felt like before, but at that moment, she realized that now she did.
It feels like this, she thought, awestruck, as she breathed deeply.
"Yeah… I… think it is," she agreed quietly. He heard the surprise in her voice, and he couldn't help but smile.
"Good," he said, reaching up to kiss her forehead once more and then leaning back to look her squarely in the eye. "Do you feel better?"
She smiled back at him, flooded with relief. "Yeah," she replied softly. Her forehead creased in frustration then, as she was unable to put into words just how much better she felt. 'Better' was simply inadequate. It was like calling a tsunami 'a lot of water.'
Watching the change in her face as emotion threatened to overwhelm her yet again, he shook his head and leaned forward again, this time leaning the tip of his nose against the bridge of hers, and then dragging the tip of his nose slowly lower along hers until their faces were even again, before leaning to the side to kiss her cheek.
"That's all that matters," he told her, immediately feeling her face lean against his. He stayed there only for a few seconds before he moved back again to look at her. Really, it was a struggle between being as close to her as possible and being able to look at her, which was why he kept alternating between the two. "Now shall we go back to sleep for a little bit? So that we can wake up together here one more time? Because I think you need a do-over on the whole waking up thing," he told her. The implication, of course, was that that meant that they were leaving that day, but her smile didn't falter.
In fact, her smile widened at his words. "I like waking up with you," she told him. "Even more than I would ever have guessed."
"So that's a yes?" he asked her with a grin.
"Of course," she said, smiling back at him as she shifted positions. She rolled onto her left side so that she faced the wall, and then slid back until her back was pressed against his chest, feeling his arm immediately wind around her waist.
He chuckled at the ease with which she'd completed the change in position. He was still propped up on his elbow, and he was now lying tucked securely behind her without having had to move at all. "Comfy?" he asked with a chuckle.
"Very," she replied, glancing over her shoulder at him. He took the opportunity to lean forward and kiss her cheek, then lay his head down on the pillow just behind hers, snaking his arm under her side of it and leaning his forehead against her hair.
She mumbled something that he couldn't quite hear, and pulled his arm more tightly around her. "I didn't quite catch that," he said into her hair. Turning back over her right shoulder, she smiled at him as if she wasn't sure whether to believe him.
"You didn't?" she asked in surprise.
"You're facing the other way," he chuckled, "You have to speak up a little."
"Okay," she replied, her eyes dancing. "I said… I love you."
The sensation that overtook him then was one that he could only have described as a head rush. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before, as if adrenaline had suddenly flooded his system.
"Funny," he said, recovering quickly, "you took the words right out of my mouth." The wattage of her smile increased, and she turned back around only to lean her head straight back, trying to be as close to him as possible. "I love you, too," he whispered, and felt her breathing falter for just a second – in a good way, if that was possible. He felt like just then it was likely that she was just as overwhelmed as he was – in the best possible way, of course.
It took a little while before both of their heartbeats slowed back down to near normal from the rush of love-induced adrenaline they'd both been feeling, but before too long they were both drifting back to sleep. It was still early enough that, since it was an overcast winter dawn, it was almost as dark as if it had been the middle of the night.
They slept for a few more hours, each of them occasionally stirring – since neither of them was accustomed to sleeping in – only to be just conscious enough of their surroundings and how very happy and comfortable they were to be able to slip easily back to sleep for a little while longer. When light finally began creeping through the curtains, and a familiar smell began to invade their nostrils, however, they both found themselves finally unable to fall back to sleep.
How does this seem to get better every time? Jane wondered, feeling slightly drunk on the delicious feeling of waking up together. She pulled his arm tighter around her so that she could move his hand up beside her cheek and rest her face against it. Kurt, no longer asleep either, gave away this fact by turning his hand around and using his thumb to stroke the cheek that Jane had just leaned against him. He was rewarded by the fact that he could feel her smile against his fingers. It only lasted a few seconds, however, before he felt her shift, turning over to lay on her stomach and scooting herself as close to him as possible, so that her head was on his shoulder, her left knee draped over his, and her left hand flat on his chest.
"Good morning, again," she whispered. "I like this do-over." His laugh rumbled in his chest underneath her, his left hand resting on the spot on her back where he knew that, beneath her t-shirt, lay his name.
"Good morning, again," he replied, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. The fingertips of his right hand traced up and down gently along the left side of her neck, where the bird tattoo was etched, though he couldn't see it just then.
Shivering slightly from the sensation, she could only hope that he couldn't smell what she thought she smelled. It appeared that Sarah was cooking breakfast, and this time there was obviously bacon involved. However, Jane wanted nothing more than for him to stay exactly where he was, not to be tempted by bacon, and to continue to do exactly what he was doing for as long as humanly possible. Maybe Kurt wouldn't notice how good it smelled…
"I'm going to have to insist that we stay here indefinitely," she mumbled against his t-shirt.
"Oh? Clearfield's growing on you, huh?" he asked, pretending to misunderstand her and, since she couldn't see his face, grinning madly at his own joke.
"Not really," she replied casually. "You, on the other hand…" she smiled into his shoulder, thinking about how cheesy her words sounded.
His right hand stopped tracing up and down her neck, slowing near the bird tattoo. His fingers went flat against her skin and moved around behind her back, moving onto the spot where he knew the oil derrick tattoo lay. Slowly, the tips of his fingers disappeared below the neckline of her shirt, along the skin of her upper back. His fingers stilled there, an inch or less past the edge of her shirt, against the part of the same tattoo that was not visible, at least when she wore that particular shirt. Not feeling her tense at this action, he turned and nuzzled his nose against her forehead.
"I'm growing on you, then?" he asked softly.
"Maybe," she replied, "But don't let it go to your head, Weller," she told him quietly, feeling his chest rumble again as he chuckled.
"I really don't see how I can help it," he told her, shaking his head calmly as if he wasn't completely delighted. "I get to have a beautiful woman laying here with me, telling me not to move," he said, as if it was simply a fact. "How can that not go to my head?" He asked the question as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, and she immediately felt herself blushing. Before she could form a response, he'd leaned his head down close to hers and whispered, "And yes, you are."
Smiling against him once again, she couldn't help but think that that moment could not have been more perfect. She turned slightly to lean her face down against his chest, planting a kiss against the soft cotton of his t-shirt that sat directly over his heart.
Under the fabric, the spot where Jane had kissed radiated heat throughout his chest, spreading everywhere at once.
The fingers on his right hand had been sitting flat against the oil derrick tattoo for several minutes. After she kissed the spot over his heart, however, those fingers began to move gently beneath the soft fabric of her shirt, in small, slow circles against her skin, giving her goosebumps.
She looked up at him, and for a second he wondered if what he was doing was too much, if he was going to see something in her eyes that told him to stop. After all, he had no idea where the line was, and above all he wanted to avoid making her feel the least bit uncomfortable. Instead, he saw warmth, happiness and, if he wasn't mistaken… awe?
When she used the words from his thought in a different way, it shouldn't have surprised him, but it still did. Yes, they had an intense connection, but… how did she know?
"You're too much," she whispered.
"Says the woman who's worried about things going to my head?" he asked, laughing softly, making her blush and lean her cheek against his chest once again. He shook his head, pressing his face into her hair. "You know it's funny that you should say that, because that was exactly what I was going for," he told her. "After all, you needed more happy memories to outnumber the bad ones, remember?" he asked, alluding to their earlier conversation… When was it, anyway?
Was it really only been a few days ago? she wondered. It felt like months, but not in a bad way… in the way that the feeling of being alone in the world, of constantly needing walls around her to protect her from her emotions so that she didn't feel them more than necessary, felt long ago and far away.
A lot sure has changed in the past few days, she thought in amazement.
This is the way it always should have been, the voice in her head insisted.
Maybe, she thought with a hesitant smile.
"And what's going on in your head?" he asked, rousing her from her thoughts.
"Mmmmmm…" she hummed. She tuned out the words and the analysis and focused on his hand on her back, tracing the tattoo that he couldn't see, and the other one, which had moved from the spot where his name was, and was now resting loosely on her lower back.
"You know that you didn't actually use any words just now, right?" he asked in amusement.
Without moving her cheek off of her chest, she moved her left hand up to his shoulder and began slowly tracing the neckline of his shirt. "I know," she replied after a minute.
"That good, huh?" he asked quietly. When she nodded her head, she felt the rumble of a silent chuckle beneath her.
"Good," he said simply, perfectly content.
Yes, they would need to get up soon. Yes, the plan was to get on the road sooner than later. But if the two of them had earned anything that weekend, it was a little time lying there still together.
It wouldn't always be this simple, he knew. Likely not even half of the time, and probably a lot less than that. But that was okay. Whatever it took, it was worth it.
"Don't you dare tell me we have to get up," she told him warningly, her eyes having fallen closed as she focused only on where she was in that moment.
"Not yet," he said soothingly, glancing at the clock.
She sighed, knowing that the moment couldn't last forever, no matter how perfect it was and how much she wished she could freeze time.
He pulled both of his arms around her tighter then, trying to transfer words of reassurance that he couldn't figure out how to articulate through his touch.
It feels like this, she reminded herself, her own words from earlier echoing in her head. Not just okay. Not just happy, even. Better than content or comfortable or safe or even special or accepted. She felt all of these things with him, and they were all important, of course, but it was even more than that.
She wasn't actually sure that there was even a word for how she felt, lying there, her mind quiet for once.
Maybe that's it, she thought suddenly.
For as long as she could remember, which wasn't long, of course, turmoil had swirled around her no matter what she did. Different kinds on different days, but always something, and often so heavy that she felt as though it would crush her, no matter how strong she vowed to be. But there, in that moment, when it was only the two of them and for just a moment, they had managed to leave behind the baggage that they each carried, that was when she felt it – a different sensation.
It was peace, she realized. Because of him.
Maybe things would work out for them, after all.