Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot. More like it's the other way around… I've come to realize THEY own ME. :)
A/N: This chapter ended up being very long somehow, even for me! When I went back to edit it, I was sure that I'd end up splitting it somewhere along the way. However, I read through it and couldn't find anywhere that I was happy with splitting it, so… here you go – a ridiculously long chapter. I don't know how many are left after this, I just know that this isn't the last one. Happy reading – and enjoy the new episode tonight!
It was easy to lose track of time that day, and not just because, for a while, they were sitting with their eyes closed. That expression 'time flies when you're having fun' was particularly true in this case, and since 'having fun' was an understatement for how either of them felt, the time seemed to go even faster. But that was okay, because at least that day, they had plenty of it. They could afford to sit and simply enjoy the fact that for once, they weren't hunting down the bad guys, or alternatively, being hunted down by the bad guys – or even worse, doing both at once.
When Kurt opened his eyes to see that it was already past 12:30 pm, he couldn't help but be surprised. The fact that he was starting to get hungry again made sense now, and he wondered if Jane was actually asleep on his lap, or just relaxing with her eyes closed.
"Hey, Jane," he whispered near her forehead, the closest he could manage to get to her ear at the moment. "Are you asleep?"
"Yes," she replied slowly, her eyes still closed. "I must be, because I'm obviously dreaming."
He chuckled quietly, then asked, "What makes you say that you're dreaming?"
Her head tilted up slowly and she opened her eyes, so that she was looking up at him. "I must be, because there's no way this is real."
"And what if it is?" he asked her in amusement.
"I don't know," she replied. "It doesn't seem possible. Things like this… they don't happen to me." Her smile faded and there was sadness in her eyes, but she continued to look at him, almost as though she was searching for something in his face.
"That's where you're wrong," he told her, kissing her forehead. "Because they do now." He sighed and shook his head, as if he might be about to deliver bad news. "I guess you're just going to have to get used to it." His mischievous smile returned then, as did the twinkle in his eye.
"I think I can handle that," she whispered, a hint of a smile reappearing on her face as well. She inhaled slowly and deeply, then exhaled the same way, trying to take in as much of that moment as humanly possible. As much as she wanted to, it was hard to make herself believe that she could have something this… good. Something that made her so happy. Which seemed silly, because it was what she had wanted for a long time, and now that she had it… Well, this whole getting used to happiness thing would take some time.
Just then, Kurt's stomach gurgled loudly, and they both laughed. "I think your stomach has something to say," she said in amusement.
"Apparently," he agreed. "And I have a feeling I know what that something is. But then, it is lunch time, so it really shouldn't be much of a surprise."
"It's lunch time?" Jane asked in surprise, sitting up and looking towards the clock. "Already?"
He chuckled at her surprise, because the morning really did seem to have flown by. Also, her surprise was adorable. "Do you want to see what else Zapata and Patterson left us for food?" he asked. He was certainly becoming more and more interested in that information by the minute.
"Good idea," she nodded, sitting up and stretching her arms up over her head, before reluctantly, and very carefully, swinging her legs off of Kurt's lap and putting her feet on the floor. She leaned against his side for a few seconds before standing up, then stretched again once she was on her feet. "I've never enjoyed just sitting around so much," she said, watching him stand up very slowly. "Come to think of it," she correctly herself, "I don't think I've ever enjoyed it at all."
"You just need more practice," he assured her as they walked back toward the kitchen.
"Maybe you're right," she said thoughtfully, opening the refrigerator. Kurt's kitchen had never been nearly as empty as Jane's, but his refrigerator was suddenly significantly better stocked than it had been the last time he'd looked inside, about a week ago.
"Wow," he said in surprise. "They went a little crazy." He stood behind Jane, unconsciously putting his arms around her waist as he peered over her shoulder into the refrigerator.
"I don't think I've ever seen that much ready-made food outside of a grocery store," she said with a grin. "They obviously didn't want me attempting to cook."
"Good," he said, which earned him a curious sideways glance from Jane over her shoulder. "For two reasons. One, well, we still need to work on that particular skill of yours, remember? And two, because that means I get more of your attention."
"Good save," she told him, shaking her head as she grinned, leaning her head against his and looking back at the food in front of them. "So what do you feel like?" His stomach rumbled again just then, helping him narrow down his choices.
"I think it should be something fast, like those sandwiches," he told her. Jane nodded and reached for the plastic deli container on the second shelf which held several sandwiches on large rolls. Behind her, Kurt stepped back to give her room to step back as well, and she closed the refrigerator. Once again, out of habit, he walked toward the cupboard that held plates, stopping in front of it when he tried to reach up, remembering just a little too late that he shouldn't even try to put his arms that high.
Jane had followed him, and was shaking her head at him. "Habit," he said simply, rolling his eyes.
"You take these," she told him, handing him the container, "and I'll get the plates. Okay?"
"Probably the better plan," he agreed with a smile, taking the sandwiches and walking slowly to the table. Jane got down the plates, as well as two glasses, which she set on the counter. She brought the plates to the table and then went back to the kitchen, putting several ice cubes in each glass and filling them with water. When she sat down, Kurt had already investigated the food.
"Ham or turkey?" he asked. She shrugged, looking down at the sandwiches. She liked both, and she wasn't picky. The only thing she could think was that both of them were much too big.
"Uh, either," she said. "But I should just cut off a piece… there's no way I'm going to eat even half of either one."
"They are pretty big," he agreed. He started to get up from his chair, but she reached out and covered his hand, leaning against the table for support, with hers.
"Stay there," she told him. "I've got it."
He smiled at her crookedly, knowing that she probably wouldn't take no for an answer. She stood up and went back to the kitchen for a knife, sitting back down with it and asking him, "Is this what you were going to get?"
"It is," he said. "I see you're reading my mind."
"Am I?" she asked.
"So far. So what am I thinking now?" he asked with a gleam in his eyes.
"Let's see," she said, putting the knife on the table and looking at him carefully as if her answer required intense concentration. "You're thinking, Hurry up and pick up the knife and cut a piece, because I want to know which sandwich you want, so that I can eat, already. Am I right?" she asked with a grin.
"Absolutely," he replied.
Without waiting any longer, she did just that, and cut a piece off the end of the ham sandwich that was less than a quarter of the half closest to her. She felt him watching her, and when she looked up at him she swore he looked like he was about to say something, but he picked up half of the turkey sandwich instead. His concern was for her well-being, she knew, but she couldn't help feeling self-conscious.
Slowly but surely she ate the piece of sandwich that she had taken, and Kurt did his best not to comment on how small it was. The look on his face, however, said enough. She knew how he felt about the subject – that he wanted her to eat more – and he knew how she felt – that she was doing her best. Of course, she was doing it in no small part because he was there to ensure that she did. Yes, she was there officially to take care of him, but the arrangement wasn't completely one-sided. Left to her own devices, she probably would have eaten far less… just like she'd been doing for months.
Jane finished eating before Kurt, and just sat and watched him. Her hands rested on the table, her plate pushed to the side. She'd finished the small piece of sandwich that she'd cut for herself as well as a bite sized piece of the turkey sandwich that Kurt had offered her for comparison's sake. While it hadn't really seemed like much to him, it was enough for her.
Baby steps, she told herself. She liked being able to look down at her plate and not see lots of food remaining, for once, even though it was because she'd taken so little to start with.
"Are you sure you had enough?" he asked, and she smiled at his concern.
"I'm sure," she told him.
He reached across the space that separated them at the round table, his hand coming to rest on top of hers. She'd been thinking of clearing the table, but those thoughts suddenly evaporated when his hand landed on top of hers. His skin felt warm against the back of her hand, and despite how much combat and other fight training they'd both had, his fingers moved so gently, you never would have known what they had been used for in the name of his job.
Jane smiled up at him, feeling almost shy for some reason. It was the most innocent of touches, and yet, she felt her pulse quicken instantly. It seemed that he had that effect on her no matter what, now that she was willing to let herself feel it, sometimes even just from standing close to her. She wasn't surprised, exactly, because it had always been that way between them – even when they'd first met. No, what surprised her was the intensity of her feelings from something so simple.
She didn't remember ever feeling that way about Oscar or Oliver, no matter what they had done – and she had slept with Oscar. Her feelings for Kurt were so unique, that it felt wrong to compare him to the other two. Oscar had been… well, he had known her history. But he had known Remi, not Jane. Looking back, that had really been the only reason she was drawn to him. He represented something that she wanted – a past – and he was the only one who could give it to her. She had confused those feelings with wanting him, but only for a little while. After all, Oscar had remembered their feelings for each other, but she hadn't. She knew that Remi had loved him, and loved him deeply judging from the flashbacks she'd had of that time. But Jane? She looked at him and saw a stranger, someone that she learned over and over again she couldn't trust.
And then of course, there was that pesky matter of his wanting to overthrow the government and burn society to the ground. Since she no longer wanted that, there really wouldn't have been a future for them even if she had still had feelings for him. She hadn't wanted to kill him, of course, but she couldn't say that she mourned his loss. While she hated that she'd taken his life, she would have felt that way if he'd been another person who'd been in that same situation. It wasn't personal.
Oliver, on the other hand… well, he'd been a nice enough guy. In the end, however, she could just never have told him everything, and what kind of relationship would that have made? Besides, how well would he possibly have reacted to learn that Kurt's name was tattooed on her back? It had never gotten to that point, and she didn't regret that. In the end, she'd finally realized that what she had with Oliver wasn't what she wanted. She enjoyed his company, yes, but she could only share part of herself with him, and that simply wasn't enough. And though she hadn't been consciously thinking it, her standard for how things should feel had been heavily influenced by how she had felt with Kurt when things had been good between them. Oliver would never had been able to compete with that. The truth, though she hadn't known it at the time, was that no one would be able to compete with that.
No, when all was said and done, there really was no comparison. After all, that was why she was there with Kurt, and not either of the other two, or with anyone else. It seemed obvious now, even though it had taken so long to figure it out.
"Back to the couch?" he asked.
All those thoughts had flown through her head in seconds, and she couldn't help but smile. Even that brief trip down memory lane made the present, and the chance to look up and see Kurt looking back at her, that much sweeter.
"Sure," she said. He withdrew his hand from hers slowly, standing up as she took his plate to stack on top of hers. "I'll meet you there," she told him, putting the container with a few leftover pieces of sandwich on top of the plates and walking back to the kitchen with them.
As he watched her walk toward the kitchen, he smiled yet again at how normal it felt to have her walking around his apartment, putting things away. It was part of what she was there for, he knew – to be sure that he rested and didn't overdo it – but he couldn't help but think that it felt like they were playing house, as if she'd just suddenly moved in. Considering that most of her possessions were there, because she had so few, he supposed that she practically had moved in. The arrangement wasn't permanent, of course, but he decided not to dwell on that part, and certainly not to tell Jane that that was how it felt to him. He didn't want her to feel overwhelmed, or uncomfortable.
You know she probably feels exactly the way you do, the voice in his head told him. Considering how in synch they usually were, it seemed like a distinct possibility. And yet… he wasn't about to make that admission. At least not yet.
Settling himself back on the couch where he'd been before, he watched as she put the dishes from the past few meals into the dishwasher. Again, it felt like a perfectly normal thing for her to do. When she finished, as she turned to walk toward him with a bright smile, she caught him watching her. He didn't mind, however. Besides, it wasn't exactly a secret that he liked to look at her.
Sitting down in the small space between him and the end of the couch, then turning to lean against the pillow at the end as she had before, she noticed his laptop now sitting by her feet. Hoping that it was there for a work related purpose, rather than the one that seemed more likely, she purposely ignored mentioning it. Looking back at him as she settled against the couch, she leaned her head against his shoulder gently. He'd kept the TV remote within reach this time, and he flicked the TV on, flipping through the channels until he stopped on something that Jane completely tuned out. Whatever was on the TV, it didn't really matter.
"You know what we were doing a week ago?" she asked him. His right hand was resting on her knees, and her right hand was absently tracing the back of his hand, looking down at the contrast between her ink covered skin and his, without any marks at all.
Without giving it much thought, since he was distracted by how close she was to him, he asked, "What?"
She chuckled softly, feeling as though she was remembering a past life that she hadn't particularly enjoyed. "Working, on opposite sides of a glass wall," she replied. "Not really speaking to each other unless it was necessary. And at least for me, avoiding thinking about Patterson's party."
When she watched his face change, she immediately regretted bringing it up. The look on his face was somewhere between a sad smile, a grimace, regret and pain. If she could have taken the words back, she would have. In seconds she felt the dismay taking over her face.
He felt as though he was remembering something that he had seen happening to someone else. Someone who he pitied. In a way, he did pity the person that he had been back then. Of course he knew why he'd done the things he'd done, why it had been so hard to get back to a place where he could even look at her and not feel betrayed. Exhaling slowly, he leaned forward until his forehead leaned against her temple.
"I'm sorry, I probably shouldn't have—" she said, shaking her head. His forehead pressed against her head until it stilled.
"You're right. That is what we were doing a week ago. Nothing we can do about that. It's just a fact. But you know what?" he asked in a voice full of warmth. She breathed in slowly and turned to look up at him.
"What?" she asked, her chest hurting a little just from thinking about that time that was so recent, though it felt like so long ago.
Her hands had pulled back into her lap, and he took them in his, gently but insistently tugging them back up onto her knees, his thumbs moving slowly along the patterns and shapes on the skin of the backs of her hands and her wrists while his other fingers cradled the palms of her hands. She looked down to watch his unconscious progress for a minute, then, when he didn't immediately answer, she looked back up at him. He'd been watching her, she realized, and the pained look that had been on his face earlier was gone. Now, if she didn't know better, she'd say that what was in his eyes was – if she wasn't imagining it – love.
Why not? the voice in her head asked. He's said it already. Why is it such a surprise?
When he had her attention, he continued. "A week ago in a few more hours, we were sitting in a stairwell, talking for the first time in a long, long time," he told her, choosing his words carefully. "And a week ago and a few more hours than that, we were here. That day a week ago… it wasn't so bad. The beginning part was just… how we got there."
"Kind of like the rest of my life," she said ruefully, looking down. She could see how hard he was trying to reassure her, and she wanted to believe him… As always, it was just so hard to let go of the past.
"That's not just you, Jane. Everyone has parts of their life – most of us, lots of them, though I'll admit that some have more than others – that they would call 'how they got to the good part.'" And I'm not going to try and say that my life has been harder than yours, but I pretty much consider at least twenty-five years of my life to be 'how I got here.' It's a hell of a long set up, that's for sure." He shook his head and smiled sadly at the thought, memories of so many painful parts of his life, mostly in some way related to Taylor, flashing before his eyes in seconds before he could quickly make himself focus on her again.
"But we're here now," she said quietly, realizing that that had been Kurt's point all along. He'd just let her get there on her own.
Her smile increased then, to his relief, and was once again genuine. What a pair we are, he thought. There were so many problems, so many issues between them, it was a wonder they could function together… and yet not only did they just work, they did so perfectly.
Or maybe the baggage is what makes you the right guy for the job. Her words from so long ago, back at the beginning as they'd stood by the elevator, came to him then.
"Yes we are," he agreed. "And that's what matters."
"It makes a hell of a story, though," she said with a chuckle. Then, imitating a random person, she said in a cheerful voice, "So, how did you guys meet?"
"Hmmm," he said thoughtfully, "Why don't we just stick with 'through work?'"
"What?" she asked innocently. "You don't want to say, 'Well, she crawled out of a bag naked in Times Square with my name tattooed on her back, along with hundreds of other tattoos over her entire body, so we were destined to meet and solve the riddles of those tattoos. We only discovered later that she wasn't my long lost best friend, as we'd thought, but actually a terrorist whose mind had been erased before she'd been sent to infiltrate the FBI?'" She paused then, trying to keep a straight face. "Why not?"
He chuckled at her, shaking his head. "Well, for one thing, most of that is classified. And besides," he added thoughtfully, "who in their right mind would let it go at that? No, whoever heard that would find it so interesting, we'd never get rid of them. And I just don't like other people enough to want to share you with them indefinitely." He stopped and smiled in surprise, as if the words had come out of his mouth without his permission. It was the truth, but he hadn't even realized it until he'd said it.
There was something so endearing about what he'd just said, not least the fact that he seemed as surprised by the words as she did. With a grin she said, "Well, that makes sense, I guess. Alright, we'll stick with 'We met through work.' Not that I think we'll get that question much, everyone we know are people that we know through work." Then, sighing happily, she leaned her right temple against his shoulder, letting her eyes close.
She looked so peaceful, all at once, and he leaned down towards her forehead. The waves of her hair had fallen over it, and he simply pushed them gently to the side with his nose, nuzzling against her skin and then planting a kiss in the center. Instead of moving his face back, he simply let it rest against her forehead, closing his eyes and trying to memorize that moment. He felt her sigh contentedly.
"I love you," she murmured, so quietly that he wouldn't have heard her if he'd been much farther away.
He took both of her hands in his and squeezed them lightly, brushing his nose against her forehead again, slowly, until it was back where it had started, before he answered. "I love you," he replied. He had never meant anything more in his life.
The afternoon passed without them really noticing. The TV droned on in the background. Sometimes they noticed it, commenting on what they saw or heard, but mostly they ignored it, too busy paying attention to each other, or to drifting in and out of a blissful, quiet semi-consciousness. With the exception of the bathroom or to get a glass of water, neither of them went anywhere – nor did they have any desire to.
At dinner time, they tried some pasta that they found in the refrigerator, and once again agreed that they needed to find a way to sufficiently thank the rest of the team for ensuring that they were so well provided for. Jane asked him if he needed more of the medicine he'd come home with, but he managed to convince her that he would take it before bed, but not just yet. She let it slide, feeling like another few hours or so was an acceptable compromise, since she hadn't seen him wincing in pain lately.
It was still relatively early when they agreed that it was late enough to change into their pajamas and move back to the bedroom. After a day spent mostly relaxing on the couch, that actually counted as a change of scenery, after all. Jane quickly cleared away the few dishes that were on the counter, putting them in the dishwasher, and they both took turns in the bathroom. Again, Kurt couldn't help but feel like Jane had always been there, even though it had only been twenty-four hours.
Jane was sitting on the bed, the TV tuned to something she had yet to identify, when Kurt walked back into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. "Habit," he said, tilting his head toward the door. He'd lived with Sarah and Sawyer long enough that it felt strange to leave the bedroom door open when he went to bed.
"I read that it's safer to close your bedroom door, in case of fire," Jane told him. "So there's actually a reason it's a good idea, besides just being a habit."
He nodded thoughtfully, walking around the bed to "his" side. As he did, she leaned over and pulled back the covers for him, so that he didn't have to stretch to do it.
"Thanks," he said with a smile.
"Of course," she replied. "And I left your pill over there, on the night stand," she added. When he looked down, he saw that she was right. It sat beside a glass of water.
"Thank you, again," he said in a softer voice. "You take such good care of me." Very slowly, he sat down on the bed, only turning to face the TV once he was sitting down.
"I try," she said. "You don't always make it so easy." He looked at her with raised eyebrows, and she made a face at him. "I know, I have the same problem."
"You do," he affirmed, nodding slightly. He finished shifting, grimacing slightly.
"You okay?" she asked with concern.
"Yep," he replied, smiling at her. He hadn't leaned back yet, and Jane realized that once again, he'd changed his pants but was still wearing the t-shirt that he'd been wearing all day.
"Ready for some help with that shirt?" she asked, unable to help smiling at him. There was something she enjoyed about doing this. She wasn't sure whether it was because he was surrendering enough control to let her help him, or because she got to take his shirt off… probably both. Either way, she tried not to let on how much she'd started to like this part, though she was fairly sure he knew anyway. After all, that was the problem with having a deep connection with a well-trained FBI agent, she supposed.
"Absolutely," he smiled at her, raising and then dropping his eyebrows playfully several times in quick succession and grinning. They'd done this a few times now, and it was simultaneously very innocent and yet also very not innocent at the same time, which he loved. The fact that something could be two complete opposites at once was just like Jane – she was as tough as nails and yet also as fragile as glass at almost any moment. He loved that about her.
She thought about what angle would be the easiest from which to proceed this time, since she hadn't attempted to remove his shirt when he'd been facing the end of the bed before. Of course, she could have asked him to turn one way or the other. It probably would have made the most sense to get up and walk around the bed to the other side and stand in front of him, then ask him to turn towards her. She could have done that. However, instead she pulled herself up onto her knees and then moved carefully to "step" over his right leg, turning around so that, when she stopped moving, she was kneeling on the bed directly in front of him.
He'd been curious what she was doing, and now it was perfectly clear. It made sense, because the best angle to do this was with her in front of him, and yet this was just a little less innocent than how they'd attempted it the other times – which was perfectly fine with him. His injuries made gave them definite limitations on how not innocent things were going to get, but even besides that, after everything that had happened between them… well, they were just learning to trust each other again, and neither of them was about to rush into anything. When the time was right, they would know – probably sooner than later, but he was content with exactly what he had for the time being.
Just then, what he had was Jane kneeling in front of him and smiling, her cheeks just slightly flushed because of the implication of the way she was sitting, even though she knew that there was no misunderstanding between them. Grinning at the way she suddenly looked at him shyly, he leaned forward to kiss her.
While she knew that she had to hold herself up, because she couldn't lean against him, she did rest her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. Yet again, just like nearly every time, their lips didn't separate until air became a necessity. This time, she moved far enough to lean her forehead against his, keeping it there for long enough that he opened his eyes, tipping his head up towards her while still leaning against her, so that their noses pressed together. They were too close together for him to really focus on her face, but he tried to look at her nonetheless.
"Hey," he whispered. "Are you okay?"
"Nope," she replied, which confused him because she didn't sound upset at all. "I'm much better than okay."
He chuckled then, leaning back to kiss the tip of her nose and then pulling his face back farther, so that he could look at her. "Well, good," he replied, studying her face carefully. Almost a minute passed, during which he just continued to stare intently into her eyes, and she began to wonder what was going on in his head. "You're so beautiful," he finally whispered, surprising her with his sudden endearment.
She just smiled, slightly embarrassed. "You're not so bad yourself," she said with a grin, sitting back on her knees. "Alright, ready? You distracted me," she chided him.
"I thought it was you that was distracting me," he insisted, looking perplexed. She just shook her head at him. In other circumstances, sitting there in front of him on his bed, between his knees, this could have been a very different situation. And yet even as imperfect as this may have been, it was perfect nonetheless. After all, if not for the explosion, who knew where the two of them would be right now. It was possible that they might not have been at his place together at all. There was just no way to know. Besides, Kurt was sitting in front of her, grinning that goofy boyish grin that she liked so much. What else could she need? What might have been didn't matter one bit at that moment.
Now accustomed to the routine, Jane tugged both sides of the t-shirt partway up first, and then they worked together on his right side. Once again she stretched the fabric carefully so that he could slowly move his arm as far as he could toward the arm hole, and she could stretch it a little more as necessary. Once his right arm was free, he rested his right hand on her waist. She was sitting up on her knees and leaning slightly forward, needing both hands to do what she was doing, so his hand on her side was not only just a sign of affection, but also helped keep her steady. Smiling down at him knowingly, she pushed the shirt across his right shoulder to his neck, her thumb holding onto the t-shirt and the rest of her fingers trailing across his bare shoulder, just enjoying the ride, so to speak.
After that, once she managed to remove her hand from his shoulder, getting his left arm out of his shirt was easy, as was slipping the shirt off over his head. She sat back down on her heels, still kneeling in front of him. Once again, when she looked down at his abdomen she could see the many bruises left behind by the force of the explosion and of being knocked over, which now looked even darker. Though she tried, she couldn't hide the dismay in her face at seeing his injuries once again.
He watched as her smile faded, and he hated that that was her reaction to him. No, not to him, he knew, but to the state of him after the explosion. Still, he hated to see her look so worried. After all, they'd made it this far, and he really was okay. Stiff and sore and bruised, but alive and okay.
"Hey," he said quietly, at which her eyes moved up quickly to his. "I know it looks bad…"
She was already shaking her head. "No," she said first, then quickly corrected herself. "I mean, yes, it looks bad, but… I was just thinking. I get it. All the times when you were so adamant about me being careful, acting so crazy about me putting myself in danger…"
Just as he opened his mouth to protest, he realized that yes, that was exactly how he'd always acted with her if there was even the slightest hint of danger. His mouth closed again, and he looked back at her with a smile.
As he did, she continued. "I just thought you were being overprotective, and I didn't understand why. I figured, I can take care of myself, so I'd be fine. I mean, I guess that I knew that you… cared…" She paused on the word as if she wasn't quite sure if she'd said it right, looking up at him uncertainly before continuing, "but… I guess I get it now. Because I can't even imagine…" The words were bottling up inside her again, but based on all of her past experience, she was fairly sure that he'd gotten her point.
"There's only one explanation for my behavior, all those times," he told her, looking straight into her eyes. "And that is that I loved you back then, even before I realized it." She laughed and shook her head, looking down before meeting his eyes again, only to find that he was looking back at her with the same intense look that had been on his face a minute before. "I'm serious. It seems pretty obvious, now."
For a few seconds, the words inside her brain failed her, just as the ones coming out of her mouth had just done. Then, as she slowly regained the power of coherent thought, she willed herself not to think about all the things that had happened that made it hard to believe that he had loved her – and there were more than just a few. That he had slept with Allie, for example. That he had gotten Allie pregnant. That Allie had been the one to tell her, and only because they'd been in a life or death situation. That he'd withheld other information from her – about the isotope test on her tooth, namely. That he had arrested her, for God's sake, without ever giving her a chance to explain. That he'd sent her to rot in the CIA black site. That he had… She shuddered at one word, at let the rest of the though go at that – Nas. That he had treated her as an enemy after all she'd done to try to save protect them…
As much as she willed herself not to think of any of these things, every one of them flashed behind her eyes in split second flashes anyway. Her resolve was crumbling, she knew.
You're past it, the voice in her head suddenly piped up, interrupting the barrage of thoughts about how he had shown her that he hadn't loved her. Accept that he loved you, even though it's hard to reconcile with his actions, but that he made bad choices. The same way you did. After all, look where you are. Literally, look up and see where you are at this second. You may not want to admit it, but you loved him too, from the beginning. That's why it was all so painful – for both of you. You just didn't recognize the feeling. Seems like he didn't either. And yet… it all turned out okay.
Her eyes darted back up to his then, and she found him watching her intently. To her own surprise, she felt her smile returning as a weight was suddenly lifted off of her. "I guess it's true what they say about hindsight being 20/20," she said slowly, warmth flooding through her. For some reason, when she now thought back to all the times between them when they'd stood close together, or sat in the car, all the times when they'd connected… How many times had she wondered what it was between them, that electric feeling that she didn't get with anyone else? How many times had something almost happened between them? She thought back on all the happier times and realized that they all meant even more now. Now that she knew.
He did love me. Even though neither of us knew it.
For a minute, he wasn't sure if she was alright, but as he continued to watch her uncertainly, she slowly looked back up at him. He could see it clearly now – she was okay. He leaned forward just enough so that his hands rested on her arms just above her elbows – about as high as he could reach – and then moved slowly down her arms until he was holding her hands. He sighed then, feeling the limitations of his injuries acutely as he looked down at their hands.
"It's not forever," she said calmly. Even as in synch as they usually were, he was surprised that she'd read him so easily. "Besides, you're alive. That's the only thing that matters."
"Well, maybe not the only thing," he said, looking up at her with a mischievous grin, "but it's at the top of the list."
She rolled her eyes at him, smiling widely. "I'm not going anywhere," she told him. "Except right there." Glancing back over her shoulder at the spot beside him, she looked back at him and smiled. "Mostly because I don't think either of us can sleep if I stay right here. But if we could, then I would."
"I wish I could, but sadly you may be right," he told her. "Though, after my ribs heal up…"
"We just can't share a sleeping bag again until then, I guess," she said thoughtfully.
"So you'd like to share a sleeping bag again?" he asked her teasingly, grinning at the suggestion – mostly because he would, too.
"Of course," she replied, blushing slightly. "But I'll pass on the almost freezing to death next time. I'm thinking that kind of thing should be just for fun."
"It's a deal," he said with a grin.
She crawled back over his leg again, back onto his right side, and leaned back against her pillows close beside him. The left side of her was pressed gently against the right side of him from her shoulder down to her foot, and her head dropped onto his shoulder. When she yawned loudly a minute later, he chuckled and looked over to find her eyes already closing. He pointed the remote at the TV to turn it off, then turned his head back towards her.
"Sleepy?" he asked. It wasn't lost on him that while he couldn't say she'd slept well in the past week, she'd done better than what little he knew of her relationship with sleep in the past. He liked to think that gradually, she was sleeping better because she felt safe with him.
Turning onto her left side, so that she faced him, Jane's forehead rested against his shoulder. "Mmmhhmmmm," she murmured. Her right hand came up to take his hand, and his hand then pulled both of their hands up to his face, where he rested the backs of her fingers against his cheek. Her head was down, so he couldn't see her face, but she smiled then. How could she not?
"Good night, Jane," he whispered.
"Night," she replied, almost too quietly to hear. She whispered something else then, that he didn't hear.
"I missed that last part," he told her, chuckling at how cute she was, trying to talk as she fell asleep.
With a great deal of effort, she lifted her head off of his shoulder so that he would, hopefully, hear her better. "I love you," she breathed out quietly.
Leaning down to kiss her forehead just before she dropped it back onto his shoulder, he replied, "I love you, too, Jane."
It had taken him too long to realize it, but now that he had, he couldn't let an opportunity to remind her slip by. His head still turned towards her, he leaned his face into her hair, inhaling deeply and thinking about how strange it all was… how everything could change so completely because of one person. After all, he was not the same person he'd been before he'd met her. Because of her, everything in his life had changed. It had been far from easy, but it had been worth it.
Though he hadn't thought he was tired, he felt himself drifting off. His last conscious thought, as it had been so often over the past week, was a whisper of one word, swirling through his mind like smoke.
Jane.
Hours later, when the sun had made it part way up but it was still considered by most people to be 'very early' to be waking up on a Saturday morning, Jane's eyes fluttered open slowly. To her surprise, she found herself in almost the same position in which she vaguely remembered herself falling asleep – curled on her left side, her legs bent slightly more so that her knees now pressed gently against the side of Kurt's right leg, her forehead against his shoulder and her hand still in his. Their hands had dropped from against his face, and now sat near the crook of his neck instead.
Though she knew that she shouldn't wake him up, the urge to move her fingers against the skin of his neck was strong. She managed to resist only by pulling her hand away, his grasp loose in sleep. Planting a gentle kiss on his shoulder, she propped herself up on her left elbow and just lay there, looking at him in the dim light of the bedroom for nearly a full minute. Remi might have wanted her to believe that she couldn't have this, as she had tried to whisper inside Jane's head from time to time, but Jane knew better. Now that she was here, she wasn't going to let anything or anyone take this new life – the one that included Kurt – away from her. Though she wasn't entirely sure that she deserved it, she knew that he believed that she did, and she would work on trying to believe it as well. Deserved or not, she was here to stay.
As much as she loved lying beside him as slept, and as much as she loved to watch him wake up, she wanted him to sleep as late as possible to help him heal. Knowing that if she stayed there, she would probably end up disturbing him by moving her fingers over his skin, which was the urge she was currently fighting, she slowly and carefully moved toward the edge of the bed. Folding the covers back in place, she then turned to pad silently to the door. She slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her, and after a brief stop in the bathroom, headed into the kitchen. The apartment was, as expected, exactly as they'd left it the night before, still and quiet, only the occasional faint noise of a city waking up coming from outside the window. It was so peaceful.
Her phone sat on the kitchen counter, where she'd left it the previous afternoon and hadn't looked at it since. Who needed a phone when she was off work, and spending all of her time with Kurt? She tapped the Home button to wake up the screen, and saw a text notification from the evening before. It was from Zapata. Swiping her screen, she opened the full message.
FYI, the team has decided that we are all celebrating New Year's together, it read. You guys have no say in this. No need to worry about going out – we'll come to you. Not only will we be at Weller's place tomorrow night, we will also handle all of the "party planning." You just do whatever you need to do to make sure that the two of you will be able to stay up til midnight. Take a long nap, or whatever. See you around 8.
Jane smiled at the text. It was so very Zapata to simply announce that they were coming over, rather than ask their opinion. She and Patterson must have hatched this plan together once again, because it sounded like something they would come up with. Reade would undoubtedly have been just along for the ride, like the team player that he was, shaking his head at the two strong willed women.
Though her immediate reaction to the idea of sharing Kurt with the team for the evening was hesitant at best, she realized that eight o'clock that night was still more than twelve hours away. Not that she would have enough of him at any point, but there were enough hours that she had alone with him between now and then that she supposed she could afford to share him that evening. Besides, it was New Year's. It would be fun to do something special.
Setting her phone back down, Jane moved towards the coffee machine on the opposite counter and took out the supplies to get it started. It felt so normal to be spooning coffee into the filter and filling up the water, which was strange in and of itself because it was only the second time she'd done it in this apartment. They'd only been back from the hospital for just over twenty-four hours, and already she felt like she'd always been there. She still thought of it as Kurt's apartment, of course, but it felt completely normal for her to be staying there, even somewhat indefinitely.
While she liked the familiarity that she felt there very much, it was possible that she even liked it too much. After all, at some point – probably next week – when Kurt was closer to being recovered and didn't need her help, there would be no reason for her to stay there anymore.
No reason? the voice in her head repeated. You sure about that? He might not always need you the way he needs you now, but… She silenced the thought, not wanting to get her hopes up. The thought of going back to living at her safe house, especially after how close they had grown over the course of the past week, filled her with a cold feeling of dread.
Why even think about that, then? she asked herself. It's almost a week away. Worrying won't change it. At some point, it's going to happen. Worrying will just stop you from enjoying the fact that you're here now.
The voice was right, she knew. She would just have to figure out how to put it out of her mind until it became inevitable. She'd filled and started the coffee machine as she'd had this conversation with herself, and now she stood and listened to its gurgling sounds, watching the liquid slowly drip into the carafe below, and put the unpleasantness out of her mind. It would be fine. That was probably the smallest problem she'd encountered since she crawled out of the bag in Times Square. It felt big, but it really wasn't. Slowly, she began to believe it. After all, she'd been worried about coming back to New York, too. Granted, things hadn't exactly gone smoothly since they'd gotten back, but that wasn't a product of their relationship. That was 100% due to the dangerous nature of their jobs.
Back in the bedroom, Kurt's eyes opened slowly as he became conscious that he was once again lying on his back, his entire body feeling like it had been chewed up and spit out by some unfriendly machine. Groaning slightly, he suddenly noticed that no part of him had contact with Jane, who nearly always slept with some part of her touching him. Turning his head slowly, his mind still foggy with sleep, he saw the covers pulled up, as if she'd never been there.
But…
In the time that it took his mind to process the fact that of course Jane had been there, she must just have gotten up already – probably not wanting to wake him – he was awake enough that there would be no going back to sleep. And just to ease that little part of his mind that worried about Jane – because after all, how could he not worry about her, after everything they'd been through? – he pushed himself up slowly, determined to get up and go out to the living room, fully aware that she would be out there doing something completely normal. Knowing her, she'd be either making or drinking coffee, depending how long she'd been up. While he knew this, still, he also knew that he'd feel a whole lot better when he could see it happening with his own eyes.
Shuffling to the door, he found his slippers along the way, pushing his feet into them and immediately feeling warmer. I should get Jane some slippers, he thought, then smiled at himself. He was so far gone when it came to Jane, and he knew it. What's more, he liked it… this feeling that he'd never really believed existed. Love.
Looking to his left into the kitchen, he saw Jane, appearing lost in thought as she poured water into the coffee machine. Instantly he felt the knot in his stomach untie itself, and the opposite sensation replaced it. Happiness bordering on elation flooded through him, and he had to stop for a few seconds to keep his balance. She looked so serene, and he was still groggy, so he headed into the bathroom without a word, wondering if, if he was quiet enough, he could still surprise her when he came back out of the bathroom. He supposed he'd find out in a minute.
She'd been so lost in thought, standing at the counter and staring at the coffee slowly filling up, that she was surprised when, without warning, Kurt's arms were around her waist and his chest pressed – albeit slowly and carefully – against her back as he stood behind her.
"Good morning," his voice rumbled in her ear, so close that she could smell his minty fresh breath as his cheek pressed against hers. At this angle, he could actually lean down enough to speak into her ear, the way she'd quickly grown accustomed to him doing before he'd gotten hurt, and she realized only then how much she'd missed it.
"Good morning," she said, her face instantly breaking into a smile as she turned her head towards him, pressing her cheek harder against his in an attempt to look at him over her shoulder. This was what she'd been missing. Not being able to bend or twist had kept him from getting quite this close to her unless they were standing up, which wasn't exactly conducive to resting, unfortunately.
For a minute she just stood there, breathing in the sensation that was about as close to bliss as anything she had experienced. "It's really a shame that there's not more standing up involved in recovering from surgery, because this is much better," she murmured, turning just a little farther to kiss his stubbly cheek. Leaning back only enough to see him grinning at her, she added, "I tried not to wake you up… I figured you could use the sleep."
"I definitely prefer waking up with you there to waking up without you," he told her sincerely.
She was beginning to understand where the phrase her heart melted came from, because she felt like that was exactly what was happening.
Exhaling slowly, she smiled and leaned her face against his a little harder. Even in the short span of her experience as Jane, she knew all too well how it felt to be overwhelmed by pain… but being overwhelmed by joy? That was something that she simply didn't know how to process. And so she stood there, unable to come up with words to form a response. Even though she was unable to do anything but just smile, she felt pain in her chest at the same time.
Breathe, she told herself, not able to focus on anything else. Just breathe.
With Jane, he couldn't always know what would trigger her. Some things were obvious, but over the past week, he'd been learning the less obvious ones. One thing he could read very well was her reactions. He might not always know what would cause them, but once something shifted in her, he could generally tell almost immediately. When he felt her stiffen, he knew instinctively that it wasn't that he'd said anything wrong. He knew her, after all… Pain, sadly, was something that she was all too familiar with. She could block it out. But happiness? She didn't know what to do with that, so it was harder for her to process.
With his hands on her shoulders, he turned her around slowly. She didn't fight against him, just allowed herself to be moved. He could see that she was momentarily stuck inside her own head. Once she was facing him, he leaned his face down until it made contact with her, kissing the skin on the top of her shoulder, just inside the neckline of her t-shirt. Actually it was his shirt, which was why it sat so far off center on her, and why the top of her shoulder was within the shirt's neckline, and therefore exposed – even after she'd washed her clothes the day before, when he'd offered her one of his t-shirts to sleep in as they'd gotten ready for bed, she'd happily accepted. It seemed that he wasn't the only one who liked to see her in his clothes.
Rather than move away after that one kiss, he left his face there, leaning down further to rest the bridge of his nose against her shoulder and just breathing calmly, hoping that she would find it reassuring.
As the feeling of paralysis abated and her breathing returned to normal, she found that her previous assumption had been wrong. No, every time she thought that she couldn't love him more, he proved her wrong. Turning her head towards his, she brought her left hand up to the back of his neck at the same time, so that as her fingers settled gently against the skin there, her temple leaned into his hair. She kissed his head just behind his ear, because it was what she could reach, and he raised his head slowly to look at her.
"It's the truth," he told her, referring to his comment about waking up with her or without her, even though it had now been more than a few minutes ago.
"I know," she whispered, not looking away. "It's how I feel too. I had to make myself get up, or I would have woken you up earlier… and you needed to sleep."
"Forget sleep," he said dismissively. "I'm taking it easy. I haven't gone to work… That's the goal, right?" He grinned at her innocently, as if he was being perfectly logical. "Besides, I don't need extra sleep. I need you." He said it seriously, but she still cracked a smile.
"I think your doctor might disagree," she pointed out, to which he snorted dismissively.
"They know a lot, but they don't know everything," he said. "Trust me. You are better than medicine."
"Of course I trust you," she said, looking him directly in the eyes. They both knew that he wasn't just talking about her trusting him in that one instance, but in a much larger sense. "But I'm not a substitute for medicine. Which, by the way, you need to take."
The coffee machine had made the loud gurgling noise that signaled that it was finished brewing some minutes ago, and after staring into his eyes and then slowly smiling, she had turned back to it, still encircled in Kurt's arms, which loosened to allow her to turn, but stayed fastened around her, as if he was afraid that someone might try to steal her from under his nose. Feeling as though she was moving in slow motion, she poured coffee into the two mugs she'd set on the counter.
While she'd been turned away from him, something had overtaken him. He couldn't describe it really, other than that it reminded him of the feeling he'd had for the split second when he'd woken up and she wasn't there, before logic and his brain had kicked in. It was almost like panic, even when he knew that rationally, there was nothing to panic about. He had his arms around her, for goodness sake!
When she tried to turn around, holding a mug that she then held out to him, he loosened his arms around her so that she had room to move. Taking the mug from her in one hand, he immediately set it back down on the counter behind her, pulling his arms around her lower back tighter once again and pulling her toward him.
She hesitated for a second, and he knew that she was probably surprised, but he held onto her tightly anyway. For whatever reason, he'd suddenly seen flashes of all the times he'd almost lost her, or even just thought that he'd lost her.
When he'd put the coffee back down and immediately pulled her closer, she'd known that there was something going on. She began to feel like maybe, though she couldn't tell exactly what he was thinking, at that moment he just needed to hold on. She was familiar with the feeling, after all – when it wasn't even something you could articulate, you only knew that you needed to hold on tight. She'd certainly had enough of those times, and it felt good that to be able to do that for someone else. Not just for someone else, for him. After so many times that he'd been there for her, it made her happy to return the favor. Her arms were looped around his neck comfortably, and she smiled at him, feeling the tension in him very slowly abate.
"Hey," she said quietly, keeping her tone light. "You okay? Neither of us usually does the breaking down thing this early… at least not before we have coffee…"
He chuckled, leaning back slowly from her and feeling the panic, or whatever it had been, finally subsiding. "Yep," he said, nodding. "I just needed…" Shaking his head slowly, he tried to gather his thoughts.
"Hey, I'm the last person you have to explain that feeling to," she assured him. "I think that was my specialty the first day I met you. It was like my default setting for a long time. Before…" She was going to say more, but found that like his, her sentence had also evaporated. And like his, the end of her sentence was also unnecessary. She forced her smile to remain in place, though now it was her who felt her insides waver.
Smiling fondly at her, he nodded. "I remember," he told her. She remembered, too, he knew, so he left it at that. And because they both remembered so many things, those two words were enough.
"We seem to be having a conversation made up solely of half sentences," she said wryly, quickly recovering her composure. She watched him carefully for a minute, looking for any sign that the smile on his face was forced even a little bit. Finally satisfied that he was alright, she felt her own face relax. "Ready for coffee now?" she asked tentatively.
"Absolutely," he grinned. He knew that she understood, but he still felt a little silly.
"So I got an interesting text from Zapata," she told him, glad to be able to change the subject. He leaned around her, purposely much closer to than was strictly necessary, to pick up his coffee. She turned back around to get hers, finished adding everything she wanted into it, then turned back around to find him standing closer to her than he'd expected.
"Do you want to go sit down?" he asked her. She swore he leaned even closer to her when he said it, and she was ninety-nine percent sure that he did it on purpose.
"I know I should agree, because I'm supposed to keep you resting," she said slowly. "But I happen to like this a lot better than sitting down."
Chuckling, he leaned closer still, until their faces were only inches apart. "Is that so?" he asked. Then his expression changed and he was no longer teasing her. "I know, this whole being injured thing sucks," he agreed. "But I just got up. I feel pretty well rested at the moment. I think I can afford to stand here a little while longer."
Sipping her coffee, she smiled up at him. She was holding her coffee in her right hand, and he shifted his to his left hand so that their mugs were on the same side. Then without taking his eyes off of her, he reached out his right hand to her left, lacing their fingers together and squeezing gently. His eyes hadn't left her face, and he watched as her smile intensified before his eyes, which only made him smile harder in return.
It really is for the best that there's no one else here, the voice in his head said, because you guys are disgustingly cute.
I can live with that, he replied to the voice, still not taking his eyes off of Jane.
Then remembering what Jane had started to tell him before, he said, "So what about a text from Zapata?"
"Oh, right," she said with a smile. "You may have gotten one too, I'm not sure." She was glad to see the conversation taking a normal turn. She'd been worried about him for a few minutes there. "Basically, they have decided that the team is coming over here to celebrate New Year's with us tonight. As in, they are taking care of all the logistics, and will be here at eight. She specifically said that all we had to do was whatever was necessary for us to be able to stay up until midnight. Like, take a long nap if necessary."
"Wow," he replied, "that is an interesting text." Jane set down her coffee and turned slightly toward the counter behind her to pick up her phone, pulled up the text and then turned the screen so he could read it for himself. Kurt just nodded, grinning and shaking his head. "They've been busy planning things," he said as Jane put the phone back down and picked up her coffee again. "See what happens when the boss is out of the office? It sounds like fun, though. I was never one for big New Year's parties. This actually sounds just like the kind of thing I prefer."
"Oh, yeah?" Jane asked curiously. Most of the time, she felt like she knew him pretty well, but when it came to what he liked to do in his spare time… Well, until the past week, he hadn't had much spare time for her to witness him filling. Besides, they hadn't exactly been on the terms that would have made her learning that kind of thing very easy for quite some time. In any case, she was fascinated to know more about a side of him that she previously hadn't.
"Absolutely," he said. "The crowds get crazy out there on New Year's… people in general get crazy on New Year's. We deal with enough of that kind of thing every day, so no sense adding in the extra madness of a major celebration."
"Have you ever gone to Times Square for New Year's?" she asked him curiously. "I mean, you live in New York City… it's right there." She'd heard all about the yearly celebrations, and she was quite curious.
He nodded, thinking back on New Years past. "Yeah, I've done that a couple times. I think that each of those times, someone dragged me there against my will," he said thoughtfully, which made Jane smile. "Allie talked me into it once, and Sarah another time." Had there been more? He couldn't remember. "Honestly, I'm just as happy not to deal with millions of people in the street, though. It's like a security nightmare waiting to happen."
Jane nodded, seeing it from the perspective of Kurt Weller, FBI agent. When you did the job they did, it was hard, if not impossible, to turn off the professional instincts and just be a regular person. Still, she couldn't help but think that someday, she'd like to go. After all, she wasn't upset that he'd gone with Allie – she and Kurt hadn't even known each other then. Hell, she'd been a completely different person then. But he'd been willing to go with Allie, and something inside her couldn't help but hope that she'd be able to convince him to take her, too. Surely, she meant more to him than Allie had, at least from the way he'd described their relationship…
Hush, she told herself. That's not something you need to worry about today. It's not going to be this year, so you may as well relax. Besides, he's not with Allie. He's with you. That puts you pretty far ahead of Allie for him, as far as I can tell.
Watching Jane carefully, he could almost hear the thoughts swirling in her head, they were so clear on her face. Leaning forward to kiss her forehead, and then leaning back again, he said, "We can go one of these years, if you want to." He loved the feeling he got when she looked back at him in surprise, clearly not having expected him to read her mind that way. He loved that he knew her that well, that she didn't even have to tell him that that was what she wanted, he just knew. Even though their connection wasn't new, it gave him a jolt of happiness every time it happened.
"Oh, yeah? Didn't you just call it a 'security nightmare waiting to happen?'" she asked.
"I did," he replied. "Maybe I can call in a favor and find somebody who has space in one of the buildings on Times Square, and we can watch from indoors, but still at Times Square… somewhere heated, and with a bathroom and snacks." He grinned at her, and she couldn't help but smile back, nodding enthusiastically.
"That sounds even better," she agreed.
"But I'm pretty sure of one thing," he said, his tone turning slightly serious again.
"What's that?" she asked.
"That the best thing to ever happen in Times Square has already happened," he said, his eyes fixed on hers intently. "Nothing else is going to top that."
He hadn't said explicitly that the best thing to happen in Times Square was her showing up there, but he hadn't needed to. It had been clear anyway. "Awwww…" she whispered. Then, smiling at him playfully, she added, "You're right, it does seem like it would be unlikely that another naked women would crawl out of a bag there, and if one did, that you'd be there to see it happen…"
Jane "becoming Jane" was a sensitive topic, of course, and he was impressed that she was joking about it. Knowing that he should still tread carefully, despite her apparently lighthearted comment, he chuckled and thought about how best to proceed. "It wouldn't matter if 100 naked women crawled out of bags all at once," he told her, "it still wouldn't compare. You would still be the best thing to happen to Times Square."
She chuckled at the image of what had happened with her, times 100. "Well, that would seriously increase our workload," she said, feigning seriousness with a twinkle in her eye. "And I could only hope that they didn't all have your name tattooed on their backs… And imagine if they all had different tattoos… Poor Patterson!" Grinning at him, she pretended to think about the logistics of that actually happening.
"You're very funny," he said softly, shaking his head.
"Am I? Thanks," she said with an amused smile.
She'd finished her coffee, and set her mug on the counter to her right. Kurt, in turn, took the last swig of his coffee and put his mug beside hers, leaning closer than necessary to her as he did. Still grinning from his last comment, she let go of his hand and put her hands on the edge of the counter, pushing herself up so that in seconds, she was sitting on it. She went from slightly shorter than Kurt to being just about at his eye level in a few seconds. Almost as soon as she did, he stepped forward again, closing the gap between them, moving into the space between her knees.
He stepped as close to her as he could get while still able to focus on her, their noses almost touching. "I wasn't expecting that," he said with a grin.
"I'm not just funny. I'm full of surprises, too," she told him. She honestly didn't know what had possessed her to sit on the counter, but now that she had, she saw just what a good idea it had been.
"That you are," he said, reaching up to push a strand of hair behind her ear, then curling his fingers slowly toward his palm, dragging the backs of them lightly along her cheek. "I, on the other hand, am fairly predictable," he added, just before he leaned forward to kiss her, slowly at first, then with slightly more intensity as the moment wore on.
"There's something to be said for predictability," she said breathlessly, when she was able to speak, more than a few minutes later. "I think it's just a matter of finding a good balance of both."
"I think we do pretty well," he said, his arms wound loosely around her, and her arms draped over his shoulders.
"Just pretty well?" she asked teasingly. For that she earned an eye roll from him.
"Pretty amazing, then," he corrected himself. "How's that?"
"Much better," she replied, leaning her forehead against his and pulling her arms more tightly around his neck, gently pulling him closer – but slowly, so that she didn't hurt him. Sighing contentedly, she couldn't help but think that she could easily stay right there all day.
Well, maybe not all day, she thought as she heard the tell-tale sound of a growling stomach.
"Was that you or me?" he asked. "We're so close together, I couldn't tell."
"I'm not even sure," she replied with a laugh, holding onto him just as tightly. "It almost doesn't matter, does it?"
"Nope, because we're both going to eat now," he told her firmly, leaving no room for argument. When he felt her sigh against him, he couldn't help but chuckle, knowing that her objection was mainly against moving any farther away from him than where she was at that moment. Really, he would have been perfectly happy to stay there as well, but not only was he hungry, but part of his responsibility was to make sure that she put more than just coffee into her system. With great effort, he lifted his forehead off of hers, kissing the tip of her nose, and then leaning back to look into her eyes. As always, there was so much emotion visible there, and once again it stunned him that anyone's eyes could be that expressive. It was one of the many things that he loved about her.
"Come on," he said, taking a step back slowly, relieved to feel her arms loosening around his neck and falling back to her sides as he moved. He kept his hands just barely on her waist, not moving more than arms' length from her. "I can't get you down myself this time," he said, once again lamenting the limitations of his injuries, "or I would."
Slipping down off the counter smoothly, his hands still at her waist, she replied, simply, "I know, and that's okay. I'll accept a rain check." Then she turned, and his hands skimmed her sides to land on her waist again, behind her this time, as she walked slowly enough towards the refrigerator that he could keep them there. She couldn't decide what was better – that moment, or the fact that there were so many more moment like that one in their future.
Luckily, she thought with a smile, for once, I don't have to choose. For once, I get both – the present and the future.