In the span of the three months he had been living with her, they had had scarce interactions that involved physical contact with a deeper meaning to it.
A pat on the back or a hand on the shoulder was common ground, especially when wishing each other a good day.
It was the more the fleeting moments of a hand lingering too long atop another, or how he'd sometimes touch her elbow to reassure her, or a hug that lasted maybe a few seconds too long, that gave Barbara the courage to lean towards Walter, pushing her face into his hands and sighing contently.
The hand on her forehead shifted downwards to her other cheek, and the hand on her cheek went down too and caught just below her chin, the ghost of it lingering just out of reach from her skin.
"Bar-" she cut him short be lifting her own two hands and catching the one beneath her chin, bringing it to her mouth and gently brushing her lips over it.
She closed her eyes and heard him swallow.
His hand felt calloused between hers, and she placed a gentle kiss on the knuckles, opening her eyes to look up at him.
The cradle-stone had a magical barrier around it that made it so the babies inside were still frozen in time, as they had been in the Darklands. Therefor, as long as they were still in there, it was as if they had never left the Darklands, and Walter had the convenience of keeping his glamoured human form.
He had assured her he wasn't keeping the babies locked inside the stone for his own benefit, but simply because he didn't know what would happen if he let them out.
Would those that had lived far beyond a human lifespan turn to dust?
He hadn't wanted to risk it, and thus spent most of his time reading up on the magic the stone inherited.
This meant that the man before her was human, and not a troll. Either way she found the expression on his face endearing. And she found that she didn't mind what he looked like either way, too.
"Thank you for staying Walt, for being here… with me. It means a lot that I don't have to be alone."
She had never wanted to admit it, but being alone scared her. She had had Jim to worry about before, James before that to keep her company, and he family before that. She had never truly been alone, and company was something she valued. She liked people, and she liked helping people – maybe that was one of the reasons she chose the profession she did.
"Of course Barbara – whatever you need." – he shot her a gentle smile, the expression shifting to something more calm and collected, yet still uncertain.
He had never inquired about their relationship, and what they were to each other now. He was living with her, and while it had started out as a job, it was more convenient to keep the stone in one place, it had grown into something more.
Something lay secret between them – between those hands and hugs, and she felt a fueling of something warm in her chest at the realization.
It had been so long since she'd let anyone close, 10 years in fact, and she felt like she was finally ready to let someone in again. She had been ready since their first time drinking tea together at the café.
She turned her body completely towards him, angled her legs so that they didn't hit the coffee table in the progress, and scooted his palm open with her fingers.
For a second she thought he wasn't going to do anything, and then his fingers locked with hers, and he drew out a sigh, getting closer himself as he too turned his body towards hers.
He looked her in the eyes and his own shone brilliantly in the dim light of her living room lamp, the world silent around them as the night progressed on without her even noticing.
Time was a concept far beyond her conception, and therefor it felt like an eternity had passed before he slowly moved their joined hands down between the space between them, occupying it's vast emptiness.
She drew closer as he did, tilted her head upwards as he tilted his down and their noses brushed together before he shot her a questioning look.
Are you really sure?
It happened before she'd even noticed how she'd crossed the last few inches between them, and as if blinking into existence again she noticed that her lips were now brushing over his.
A shhff sound, a twirl of metal and those completely in control hands.
She sighed into the kiss, unlocked her hand from his, which she immediately brought up to place on his shoulder, together with her other hand that landed on his other shoulder.
She felt him move, and within a second his fingers were on her shoulders too.
The kiss was gentle and somewhat longing, and reminded her that they had done this before, and that she could have more if she wanted.
She shifted and he did so too, their lips locking more furiously together as they moved in tandem and she somehow ended up in his lap, her legs on either side of his hips, and him seated against the backrest.
She hovered above him, her hands having found his neck and hairline, which they were scraping against and up into his hair, and she heard him make an approving sound in the back of his throat.
She felt his hands find her hips, gently caressing her and gripping her there, and she became aware of how much she was still in her work clothes, and how much she wanted to be out of them.
She tugged his lower lip between her teeth, feeling brave, and she could swear he moaned at that. She hadn't lost her touch, she thought happily to herself, and with that thought she gently opened her mouth a little wider and prodded her tongue against his lips; asking for entrance.
She was afraid he was going to end it there. Their previous kiss at her porch that night had been sweet and brief. A prolonged peck on the lips with a bit of sighing and looking dreamily into each other's eyes, and he was off.
This was not a porch-kissed bathed in the light of her porch-light, and he opened his mouth and let her inside.
Her tongue grazed over his teeth, and a faint thought of fangs and tusks shot into her subconsciousness, and she moaned.
This clearly encouraged him as his own tongue shot out to meet hers, and soon they were tangling with each other as their heads bend ever which way to deepen the kiss.
A chopping sound, a twist of a blade, deft fingers moving with such precision she felt her breath hitch.
She came up for air; her breathing labored and locked eyes with him, her hands still in his now ruffled hair. His pupils were blown and his mouth hung open, his breathing a little ragged and she thought he looked absolutely gorgeous.
"I – I didn't think that you, were, ah, ready for this… yet?" he rasped.
She offered a sweet yet cheeky smile and kissed his nose – her hands still caressing his scalp through his hair, and he let out a breath he had seemed to have held.
"What made you think that?" she finally said.
He shrugged his shoulders and his eyes wavered for a second to stare at something behind her, but then they came back to hers again.
"I didn't want to ask, or presume anything, and since you didn't inquire about the state of our relationship either, I figured you weren't ready."
He said that last bit with a bit of sadness hinged in his tone. Clearly he felt strongly for her, as she had for him before everything had gone down in flames, but she found that after his redeeming actions in the battle, him helping Jim and him being here with her, she found that she had forgiven him a long time ago.
She smiled at his endearing way of putting things, and her heart leapt at how he honored her privacy and opinion more than anything.
Her fingers had been drawing small circles at the start of his hairline, but now she dug both of her hands into his hair once more and dragged her fingernails up and down his scalp and she placed a kiss at the corner of his mouth.
He bit down a gasp, she kissed his jaw, he breathed out and she kissed his neck right below his ear, he made a growling noise in the back of his throat and she kissed that very throat.
The sandwiches from earlier were long forgotten, and Barbara found herself hungry for something else.
It had been a long time since she'd done anything like this, but it was right about the only thing she really thought she needed right now – she wanted it.
It was a chance to forget the world around her, and simply exist in this space with him without anyone counting on her, except for him. And she wanted him to know that she needed him, and that she appreciated him and what he had done for her.
But most importantly - she wanted him.
Her hair had been up as always when she was a work, and she moved her hands from his hair to her own.
A cutting, slicing and dicing through thin air – his movements perfect and precise.
She loosened the band in her bun and her wild fiery locks pooled down upon her shoulders.
His eyes flashed dangerously.
which was so much more effective because of the fact that they did actually flash – a dangerous, wild, thundering yellow with a red tinge to it.
She gasped and caught his lips in hers once more, passionate, desperate, letting out little mewls and moans as he tugged on her lips, and brought both his hands from her hips to her neck, pulling her forward towards him, suffocating her with his very being.
She fisted the material of his robe, which was a dark blue and very plush. This made her giggle a little, thinking that such a prober and poise man would pick anything but a comfy robe to sleep in.
Though he hadn't slept in it, had he? She vaguely remembered him in various night wear – shirts and boxers, occasionally something that matched, a pajama of sorts - but he always put on this robe if she caught him sleeping in just the boxers.
Perfect.
She started to pull at the corners of the robe, and her suspicions were confirmed as smooth and warm skin came in contact with her hands. She continued to push the robe up and over his shoulders, and then it caught at his arms.
He moved his hands, which had been positioned at either side of her neck, ever so slightly just following her movements, and slid the robe off both of them.
She then felt those hands at the hem of her blouse, carefully tugging the material upwards, and she lifted her arms in approval and he slid the garment off of her.
She felt him freeze for a second, seemingly haven forgotten how to breathe as they pulled apart from the kiss that had ensured their progress of undressing one another.
There she was – in his lap in her bra and slacks – and there he was, with his dark bathing robe pooling at his hips and a rising bare chest that seemed to draw her in.
"Are you okay?" she breathed in a raspy voice.
He stared at her, admired her, and as he wetted his lips with his tongue his eyes caught hers.
"You are so incredibly beautiful – Barbara, I can't even believe how lucky I am."
Shkkk! The knife landed perfect in its target, as it was thrown from across the room with such fury.
She lowered herself towards him, her hands on his shoulders, his on her hips, and then she bit down at his neck – he groaned - nibbling at the flesh and kissed it passionately.
"I want you Walt. I have for a while."