Words Unspoken (David/Liz, R)
Posted for the numb3rs100 Rewind Series for March 2009: Warmth, Kiss, Skin, Color...
Title: Words Unspoken (Sequel to Stay)
Pairing/Characters: David Sinclair/Liz Warner
Rating: R (adult situations)
Word Count: 250 x 4
Summary: How different things may have been if he asked her to stay...
Spoilers: 5.14 - Sneakerhead
Notes/Warnings: This rewind is 5 years in the making. I started in March 2009 when the rewind prompts were originally posted. Episode 5.14 - Sneakerhead aired 4 weeks earlier and this story tried to come out yet couldn't be made whole. I put it away and ended up writing its prequel instead for the numb3rs_het Summer Challenge (See: Stay, posted August 2009.) Over the past 5 years, I've opened and closed this story more than 100 times, never adding more than a word or erasing a paragraph each time. I can't explain to you why it came together now, but something happened when I opened the file this week. A cohesive story fell out, sometimes before I was even out of bed to get the file open. So, I hope you enjoy this 5 year labor. (Thanks as always to my wonderful beta, julietm, whose approval - and verb tense and typo editing - made this possible.)
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, regrettably - it's not mine.
Warmth:
David sits at the Eppes’ dining room table, absently fidgeting with the corner of the label on his nearly empty beer. He’s never been much of a drinker, but tonight he needs to be. Anything to dull the ache in his chest.
He drinks fast enough he already feels the flush in his skin, the warmth helping him to ease into his chair. Staring at his phone, he wills it to ring - to hear her voice, to know she’s safe on the snow covered ground of Denver.
He’s only half listening to Charlie ramble on... something about... is he talking about shoes? Probably, David thinks, before his mind turns again to Liz. A sun-kissed California girl stepping off a plane in snow. How is she going to stay warm in Denver? He'll have to send her a nice coat for Christmas, one from New York.
He commits the thought to memory before he realizes Larry has joined the grieving party, but Larry isn’t alone. David does a double take to make sure his mind isn’t playing tricks on him. Liz... Liz is there.
He lets Don and Charlie have all the exclamations at her return, sitting in still bewilderment. He listens intently to her explanation, another story about shoes and about knowing where she belongs. And she belongs here, in LA, with Don’s team. With David, though the last is implied with a slide of her hand across his shoulders as she takes the seat beside him at the table.
Kiss:
She is supposed to be on a plane to Denver, and yet she’s here instead - beside him, the wind carrying the scent of her perfume as they walk to his car without a word. She came to the house by taxi so no one suspects when he offers her a ride from the Craftsman. She says she’ll stay in a hotel until she finds another apartment, her old place already leased for the move she didn’t make.
David says nothing about this when they make an exit. He doesn’t want to assume she’ll stay with him. He wants to offer his home to her though, to talk alone with her now that she’s here again.
There have been millions of things he wants to say since the moment Larry walked her through the door they just exited and yet no words escape him. Not until she turns in front of him, leaning against his Jeep and smiling at him as though she knows.
She does know. This is his Lizzy, after all. She knows him better than most.
His smile reflects hers as his lips finally move to speak the only thing he can think to say. “I’m glad you stayed.”
Her smile brightens as she pushes herself away from the car, moving herself within a whisper's distance of him. “Show me,” she breathes, her hands sliding around his neck, drawing him in until they are lost in a kiss, concealed from watchful eyes by the shadows on the street.
Skin:
He barely has the door closed before he peels her out of her clothes, paying closer attention to the way his big, rough, dark hands move over her creamy, almond skin. This is a pleasure he’d nearly lost today. He wants to take his time and remember every moment of this - the first time after almost losing her to Denver. But Liz is eager and hungry… for him… using her lithe tiny body against him to pull him into the bed they’d shared that morning.
Her skin is alive with need, his well past 5-o’clock shadow causing little red bumps where he kisses her delicate flesh. She arches to meet him, but he wants more time she doesn’t want to give. Bracing himself above her is the first time she takes pause, her lips barely away from his, looking at him with one hand caressing the back of his shaved head. “David,” she sighs his name. He holds his breath for what she has to say. “Thank you for not asking me to stay.”
He’s only momentarily confused by this before he slides slowly into her, watching her expression change as she gives herself over to him in this moment. Thank you for not asking me to stay, she said. She knew the words had been on his tongue, and she figured out he cares enough about her to leave them unspoken. Her decision to stay had been her own, and he meant to make sure she never regretted it.
Color:
He takes his time now that she’s relinquished control. He savors every movement, her body and soul his perfect complement as they ripple together in time.
His name escapes with a gasp as she comes, and he watches… withholding his release until she’s looking at him. And he knows. Even though he didn’t ask, she stayed for him. It’s his turn to cry out her name as his world explodes in a rush of warmth until he collapses on the bed beside her and she moves in close.
Skin on skin - chocolate layered with almond and flushed with exertion - moves together as they lay panting in the aftermath of lovemaking. “You really are glad I stayed,” she teases through captured breaths. He tightens his hold on her and nods, still trying to get his wits about him to speak. And again, he realizes he doesn’t need to say a word. Looking at her, the need for confirmation is in his eyes while her fingers trace his face. He watches her close her eyes, smiling. “I stayed because… there’ll be other promotions.” Her eyes open to meet his as she continues. “There’ll never be another you.”
Her words confirm what he hoped to be true. That morning he wasn’t sure he could ask her to stay for something that might not last the winter. Her words to him now make him believe they would weather all the seasons, and his life here on out would be shades different… because she stayed.
<< Stay
Title: Words Unspoken (Sequel to Stay)
Pairing/Characters: David Sinclair/Liz Warner
Rating: R (adult situations)
Word Count: 250 x 4
Summary: How different things may have been if he asked her to stay...
Spoilers: 5.14 - Sneakerhead
Notes/Warnings: This rewind is 5 years in the making. I started in March 2009 when the rewind prompts were originally posted. Episode 5.14 - Sneakerhead aired 4 weeks earlier and this story tried to come out yet couldn't be made whole. I put it away and ended up writing its prequel instead for the numb3rs_het Summer Challenge (See: Stay, posted August 2009.) Over the past 5 years, I've opened and closed this story more than 100 times, never adding more than a word or erasing a paragraph each time. I can't explain to you why it came together now, but something happened when I opened the file this week. A cohesive story fell out, sometimes before I was even out of bed to get the file open. So, I hope you enjoy this 5 year labor. (Thanks as always to my wonderful beta, julietm, whose approval - and verb tense and typo editing - made this possible.)
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, regrettably - it's not mine.
Warmth:
David sits at the Eppes’ dining room table, absently fidgeting with the corner of the label on his nearly empty beer. He’s never been much of a drinker, but tonight he needs to be. Anything to dull the ache in his chest.
He drinks fast enough he already feels the flush in his skin, the warmth helping him to ease into his chair. Staring at his phone, he wills it to ring - to hear her voice, to know she’s safe on the snow covered ground of Denver.
He’s only half listening to Charlie ramble on... something about... is he talking about shoes? Probably, David thinks, before his mind turns again to Liz. A sun-kissed California girl stepping off a plane in snow. How is she going to stay warm in Denver? He'll have to send her a nice coat for Christmas, one from New York.
He commits the thought to memory before he realizes Larry has joined the grieving party, but Larry isn’t alone. David does a double take to make sure his mind isn’t playing tricks on him. Liz... Liz is there.
He lets Don and Charlie have all the exclamations at her return, sitting in still bewilderment. He listens intently to her explanation, another story about shoes and about knowing where she belongs. And she belongs here, in LA, with Don’s team. With David, though the last is implied with a slide of her hand across his shoulders as she takes the seat beside him at the table.
Kiss:
She is supposed to be on a plane to Denver, and yet she’s here instead - beside him, the wind carrying the scent of her perfume as they walk to his car without a word. She came to the house by taxi so no one suspects when he offers her a ride from the Craftsman. She says she’ll stay in a hotel until she finds another apartment, her old place already leased for the move she didn’t make.
David says nothing about this when they make an exit. He doesn’t want to assume she’ll stay with him. He wants to offer his home to her though, to talk alone with her now that she’s here again.
There have been millions of things he wants to say since the moment Larry walked her through the door they just exited and yet no words escape him. Not until she turns in front of him, leaning against his Jeep and smiling at him as though she knows.
She does know. This is his Lizzy, after all. She knows him better than most.
His smile reflects hers as his lips finally move to speak the only thing he can think to say. “I’m glad you stayed.”
Her smile brightens as she pushes herself away from the car, moving herself within a whisper's distance of him. “Show me,” she breathes, her hands sliding around his neck, drawing him in until they are lost in a kiss, concealed from watchful eyes by the shadows on the street.
Skin:
He barely has the door closed before he peels her out of her clothes, paying closer attention to the way his big, rough, dark hands move over her creamy, almond skin. This is a pleasure he’d nearly lost today. He wants to take his time and remember every moment of this - the first time after almost losing her to Denver. But Liz is eager and hungry… for him… using her lithe tiny body against him to pull him into the bed they’d shared that morning.
Her skin is alive with need, his well past 5-o’clock shadow causing little red bumps where he kisses her delicate flesh. She arches to meet him, but he wants more time she doesn’t want to give. Bracing himself above her is the first time she takes pause, her lips barely away from his, looking at him with one hand caressing the back of his shaved head. “David,” she sighs his name. He holds his breath for what she has to say. “Thank you for not asking me to stay.”
He’s only momentarily confused by this before he slides slowly into her, watching her expression change as she gives herself over to him in this moment. Thank you for not asking me to stay, she said. She knew the words had been on his tongue, and she figured out he cares enough about her to leave them unspoken. Her decision to stay had been her own, and he meant to make sure she never regretted it.
Color:
He takes his time now that she’s relinquished control. He savors every movement, her body and soul his perfect complement as they ripple together in time.
His name escapes with a gasp as she comes, and he watches… withholding his release until she’s looking at him. And he knows. Even though he didn’t ask, she stayed for him. It’s his turn to cry out her name as his world explodes in a rush of warmth until he collapses on the bed beside her and she moves in close.
Skin on skin - chocolate layered with almond and flushed with exertion - moves together as they lay panting in the aftermath of lovemaking. “You really are glad I stayed,” she teases through captured breaths. He tightens his hold on her and nods, still trying to get his wits about him to speak. And again, he realizes he doesn’t need to say a word. Looking at her, the need for confirmation is in his eyes while her fingers trace his face. He watches her close her eyes, smiling. “I stayed because… there’ll be other promotions.” Her eyes open to meet his as she continues. “There’ll never be another you.”
Her words confirm what he hoped to be true. That morning he wasn’t sure he could ask her to stay for something that might not last the winter. Her words to him now make him believe they would weather all the seasons, and his life here on out would be shades different… because she stayed.
<< Stay