Haven fic: Hope Remains (A/N, R, 1/1)
Title: Hope Remains
Author: Shane Vansen
Category: Audrey/Nathan RST, romance, light angst
Spoilers: S3 in general
Rating: R (sexual situations)
Length: ~4200 words
Disclaimer: It's probably best that they're not mine; I'd screw it up. Haven, its characters and storylines, and the overall concept belong to people much more creative than I.
Summary: Where else would Audrey be on her last night in Haven but with him?
Author's Notes: Yeah, I apologize for the title. I was getting desperate.
Unbetaed, because basically I am insecure enough about writing smut for the first time in years that I wouldn't be able to handle any sort of critiquing, no matter how kindly worded. This how my brain works. *shrugs*
Started several weeks ago and so more or less AU now; no mention of anything we learned in Magic Hour or Sarah.
Not intended as a sequel to Star Light, Star Bright but it could work.
***
Nathan's two and a half beers into his plan to get wasted enough to pass out - and, with any luck, be hung over enough in the morning that calling in sick is a legitimate option - when there's a knock at his door.
For a moment he considers not answering; he's not even remotely in the mood for company and anyone who knows him at all knows that tonight, of all nights, he wants to be left alone. On the flip side of that, though, is that if someone's decided to interrupt him even knowing he won't like it, it means that it's probably something important.
Nathan's had enough of being the person everyone turns to for the important stuff, but there really aren't that many people who can deal with the problems they tend to face in Haven. In a matter of hours, there will be one fewer.
That thought makes him hurt, makes his chest tighten so that he can barely breathe, so he shoves it away, swallows another mouthful of beer, and opens the door. He isn't expecting the person who's standing on his front step. "Audrey."
She stares at him for a few moments and then her eyes flick away, staring at his chest, the door behind him, the ground. "I know you probably don't want me here, but I don't know where else to go." Her gaze meets his for a fraction of a second before dropping again. "I'll leave if you want me to."
He doesn't move, not because he doesn't want her there but because he can't process that she could ever think that in the first place, but his stillness must seem like an answer to her because she nods once, sharply, and starts to turn away. "I'm sorry," she says. "I'll-"
"Parker." His voice is raw, strained, enough to catch her attention. He takes a step back and gestures her inside. "C'mon in."
She hesitates for a moment before brushing by him on the way in, and even that small, inadvertent contact is enough to make him breathe out hard. At first it's the shock of touch that throws him, but tonight, hard on the heels of the too-rare feeling, is the realization that it might be for the last time.
That it might be the last touch he ever feels doesn't bother him that much anymore; even if the Troubles don't leave this time, he's almost used to the isolation now. No, it's the idea that it could be the last time he feels Audrey that has him gripping the door handle like it's the only thing keeping him on his feet. He takes a moment to lower his head and just breathe before closing the door and turning toward his living room.
He sees her eying the empty beer bottles on the coffee table. Instead of the comment he's half-expecting, though, she asks if he has any more. She's still standing when he returns from the kitchen so Nathan sits first, surprised when she takes the seat next to him rather than the other end of the couch or the chair.
They sit in silence for a while, and Nathan's almost done his third beer of the evening when Audrey blurts, "I wrote you a letter."
Surprised, he turns to look at her only to find she's picking at the label on the bottle. "Oh?" is all he can think of to say.
She nods without looking up. "Actually, I wrote you a bunch of letters but they didn't sound right so I kept ripping them up. The one I left you isn't much better than the first ones but I was running out of time, so...." She shrugs, like the deadline was because she was late for an appointment and not because by morning she'll just be gone. He knows her better than that, though, and can see how scared she is. Still not looking at him, she adds, "You should probably just throw out the one I left."
Nathan makes a non-committal noise, because this isn't a promise he can make her. Whatever she might have said to him, good or bad, no matter how much it might end up hurting him, that letter will be one of the last things he'll have left of her. He can't imagine throwing it out at all, let alone without reading it.
"I need to apologize." Audrey twists to face him and Nathan starts to realize that he's going to have trouble keeping up with her tonight. She's understandably on edge and when she's upset, she tends to get caught up in whatever's got her attention without really listening to anyone else. Nathan's pretty sure she's going to be full of stops and starts. "Back when I first told you about the Hunter, you said you couldn't understand why I wasn't fighting. And I-I lied."
Her hands are restless, twisting the beer bottle around, picking at the label, rubbing up and down her arm. Nathan takes the bottle away and lays one hand over both of hers, stilling them, but doesn't say a word. She seems determined to say something; he just needs to give her time to figure out how to say it.
"All I could think about was how Lucy loved the Colorado Kid and he died because of it." She's staring at their hands, his still resting on hers. "You, Nathan, you wouldn't have stopped looking for a way to stop all of this from happening and I couldn't risk that you would die too. But it was stupid to think you'd just give up, that you'd be any safer without me there to watch your back. I'm your partner and I wasn't there." Her voice cracks a little as she adds, "I messed up, so much. I'm sorry."
"Audrey," he starts, and grips her hands. "It wasn't just you who messed up. I let you walk away without even trying to figure out why you were." He'd just been angry and afraid and didn't know how to deal with it.
She finally looks up, corners of her mouth turned up in a small smile. "I knew you'd react that way. That's why I said what I said."
Part of Nathan is annoyed that he's so predictable, especially when that particular reaction is less than flattering. The rest of him kind of likes that she knows him that well.
It hits him all over again, that they're down to hours now. Seven weeks of chasing leads, of fighting each other almost as much as the approaching deadline, of doing things he wishes he never had to do and hurting people he never meant to hurt, and it was all for nothing.
He doesn't know how he's going to deal when she's gone. She's turned his entire world upside down in such a short amount of time and he doesn't know if he can navigate it on his own - he's damn sure he doesn't want to do it alone. But here, now, tonight, Audrey sitting on the couch beside him, her hands cool and trembling faintly under his, Nathan makes a decision. Come morning, he'd rather regret something he's done over something he didn't do.
That decision made, he reaches up, cups her face in both hands, and kisses her.
It's a gentle kiss, more a brush of lips against lips than anything else. Audrey's hands come up to wrap around his wrists but she doesn't pull them away, just holds on as she leans into him a little bit more.
Nathan leaves one hand on her face, his thumb stroking her cheek, but he wants to feel more. Letting his fingers curl in a loose fist, he strokes his knuckles along her jaw, down her neck, along the collar of her shirt, her hand still clutching his wrist. He follows his path back up the opposite side and then down again, only this time Audrey nudges his hand under the edge of the fabric.
He lays his hand flat against her skin, the heel of his hand resting along her collarbone, his fingers curving up and over her shoulder. Her skin is cooler than his, smooth under his fingertips, and he breaks their kiss to rest his forehead against hers.
When he lifts his head, Audrey's watching him with a look he's never seen from her before. He's caught glimpses of it over the past few months, enough to give him hope, but never anything this open or exposed. Their next kiss is less hesitant, more certain, lips parting at almost the same time, tongues meeting and tangling. Nathan slides one hand behind her head to hold her close and lets his other hand explore, his fingers trailing down her back, his palm smoothing over her hip and along the outside of her thigh, sliding under her shirt on the way back up, making her shiver and arch closer to him.
Nathan's not really thinking anymore, caught up in the fact that this is Audrey and he can feel her and he is touching Audrey. And hard on the heels of that is the realization that Audrey is touching him back, because her fingers are moving over him, stroking lightly, and he thinks she's making a point of touching whatever skin she can reach. Nathan's certainly not complaining.
Her touch disappears, almost disconcerting in its suddenness, but he opens his eyes to see Audrey's hands busy with his shirt, undoing the buttons, pushing it off his shoulders. He has to pull back to see so he can do the same for her, not able to work the small buttons by feel. He takes his time pushing her shirt off her shoulders, down her arms, trailing his fingers along her now-bared skin in the fabric's wake. She takes care of the tank top underneath herself, grasping the hem and pulling it up and over her head, and then Audrey's sitting in front of him in jeans and a bra.
For a few seconds he just takes her in. Nathan's somewhat surprised that his hand's not shaking when he reaches out for her, tracing a finger along the edge of the simple white bra. Audrey shivers at the soft touch, her fingernails digging in slightly where they're resting on his sides, and then she's sliding her hands behind his back and pulling him closer, lifting her head to kiss him.
He forgets, rather often actually, how small she really is; Audrey can be so self-assured, so fierce, that her personality gives the impression that she's bigger than she is. Now, though, his hands easily spanning her back, Nathan is sharply reminded of how easily he could hurt her.
Of course, she can break him without so much as laying a finger on him, so he supposes it's only fair.
It takes some doing, getting her bra undone, but he manages. He pulls away just far enough to pull the straps down and off her arms and gets a glimpse of pale skin before Audrey's pulling him back, mouth open against his, her tongue sliding along his. Then she's falling backwards onto the couch, pulling him with her, and it's been a long, long time since Nathan's felt this much bare skin against his own.
He rests his forehead against Audrey's, trying to catch his breath, but that's hard to do when just breathing means movement, more contact, the smallest shift of her breasts against his chest almost overwhelming to his long-denied nerves.
Audrey doesn't seem to be having as much trouble. While he's focused on breathing and on keeping his weight on his arms so he won't crush her, Audrey's hands are moving, her palms stroking up his biceps, down his back, her fingers sliding through his hair and digging into his lower back. She tilts her head up, her lips not quite touching his, and Nathan takes the not-so-subtle hint and kisses her.
It's so much, all at once. He's distracted by the heat of her body, by the slick slide of her tongue against his, and her hand sliding beneath the waist of his jeans startles him. Nathan gasps and jerks against her and Audrey arches beneath him, making a small sound low in her throat that he's never heard from her before but that he'd really, really like to hear again.
"Audrey," he breathes, and then she's reaching for the button of his jeans.
He needs to move, needs to get up to remove his pants and hers, but Nathan takes his time. He journeys down her body a little at a time, tasting her, learning her, finding the small mole on the underside of one breast and another near her navel. She makes that sound again, the one deep in her throat, and a few new sounds too, and Nathan is completely mesmerized by her reactions.
When he reaches the waist of her jeans he shifts back onto his knees, kneeling between her legs. Her skin's flushed from the top of her breasts up, the rest of her upper body marked here and there by uneven red marks he left behind. She's breathing heavily, short, uneven breaths that appeal to the purely male part of his ego.
He unbuttons her jeans and lowers her zipper, hooking his fingers in the waist and drawing her pants and underwear down and off her legs, leaving her completely bare before him. He takes several moments just to look until Audrey holds out a hand, and Nathan sheds what's left of his own clothing, takes her hand, and lets her pull him down on top of her.
Her legs part, letting him settle against her, and Nathan's brain just about quits altogether at the feel of her pressed so fully against him. His breath escapes with a long groan and Audrey's fingers curl into his back before she flattens her palm and runs it along his waist to just below the small of his back. He shudders and raises his head so he can see her.
Audrey's watching him, gaze steady as one hand drifts over his body. She gives him a languid smile, one that he returns automatically, then leans up for a brief kiss. "Hi," she murmurs as she rests her head back against the couch cushion and Nathan can't help but laugh, strained though it is.
"Hi," he says back, lips still tilted up in a smile, but any trace of amusement is wiped away in a millisecond when she reaches around to grasp him and guide him into her body. Then it's all wet heat and touch everywhere and Nathan's panting for air before he's even come to a stop.
He's got one arm along Audrey's side, his hand curled around her shoulder from underneath, and he's clutching her so hard he's afraid he's hurting her. He drops his head onto the cushion with a strangled groan, his mouth near her ear, and manages to grit out, "Don't move," between harsh breaths. It's been a long, long time since he's been in this position and it's even more incredible than he remembers.
Eventually he has enough control to lift his head. He presses a kiss to her forehead, another to her cheek, before brushing his lips across hers. Audrey makes another of those noises he's starting to crave and shifts against him. It's a small movement but it sparks through both of them; he can tell by the way she clenches around him, her nails scratching at his shoulder.
Nathan shifts his weight to one arm and runs the other down her side and under her thigh, pulling her leg up over his hip, and Audrey lets out a sharp breath when he slides even deeper. She arches under him with a full-body shudder and a jagged, "Nathan," and his name in that tone of voice does things to him he never would have guessed possible.
There's no way he's going to last nearly long enough.
But she might be close too, he realizes as he forces his scattered attention on her. Her hips are moving in uneven circles against his, sometimes arcing up into him, and already he can feel the erratic clenching of her inner muscles around him.
This part, Nathan remembers. He's still got one hand on her thigh, holding her to him, and he slides it under her lower back, changing the angle. Now he's rubbing against her where she needs it, her breasts pressed up against his chest, and she lets out a long, low cry, her fingers digging into his skin even harder.
They're not really moving much, just small rocking and circling motions with their hips, but Nathan stills almost completely when he manages to focus his eyes enough to really see her. This, here, now, is something he's hoped for for months now but had started to doubt would ever happen. And they might only have tonight, and she won't recognize him at all when she returns to Haven in twenty-seven years, but he wouldn't trade this moment for anything.
Nathan's never been very good with words and he definitely doesn't have them tonight, but there's one thing he knows he needs to tell her. "Audrey," he murmurs, and she half-opens glazed eyes to look at him. "I love you." And then he kisses her, deep, over and over, so he doesn't have to know if there's no answer.
There's a change in her rhythm, the noises she's making sounding more urgent, and Nathan's not sure how much more he can take. Her legs come up higher around his waist and his hips flex automatically, pressing as deep as he can go, then again, and again, before Audrey makes a little gasping sound and comes apart beneath him. He wants to see her through it, wants to see her face and discover the ways to make it better for her, but he's been hanging on by a thread pretty much since she pulled him down over her and it's just too much. He lets go.
When Nathan is able to scrape together enough brain cells to think again, he realizes that even though she's not complaining, all of his weight is resting on Audrey. He pushes himself up on one arm and with his free hand reaches for the back cushions, tossing them off the couch so they have more room. Moving carefully, he manages to manouevre both of them on their sides, Audrey securely between him and the back of the couch.
He can't stop touching her. She's watching him through half-lidded eyes, her hand resting against his chest, her fingers curling occasionally in a gentle stroke, and he can't stop touching her. He brushes her hair behind her ears, runs his fingers along her cheek, draws his palm down her arm and along her hip. He's only just starting to get used to this, to feeling her, to being allowed to touch her, and it's the most amazing thing. If he could touch her every day for the rest of his life, Nathan's pretty sure he'd still think it was the most extraordinary feeling.
It's only when she shivers that he realizes that she has goosebumps and guesses that it must be cold in the room. "Let me get a blanket," he says, dipping his head to kiss her before moving to get up, but her hand on his waist stops him.
"Or," she murmurs, running her fingers across his chest, and now he's the one shivering but for reasons that have absolutely nothing to do with temperature, "we could move to the bed."
It takes a few moments for her words to register, distracted as he is by her touch, but when they do he's pretty sure that's the best idea she's ever had. "Bed," he agrees, getting off the couch and holding out a hand to help her up. She intertwines her fingers with his and leans into his side as he leads her down the hall, but stops halfway there. Nathan pauses, turning to face her.
"For the record," she says, and this time her gaze meets his head-on instead of looking away like she usually does when things get too personal, "I love you too."
He stares at her for a breath, two, then his hands are on her face to hold her still so he can kiss her, hard.
They don't quite make it to the bed this time, but the wall outside his room works well enough.
***
Nathan wakes to the morning sunlight hitting him full in the face and mentally grumbles to himself for forgetting to close the curtains as he rolls onto his back.
The sheets are cool against his skin, the extra pillow wedged uncomfortably beneath his shoulder blade, and he opens his eyes and frowns at the ceiling as he tries to figure out what's bothering him so much about that. It takes his sleep-deprived mind a few seconds to realize: he can feel the sheets, the pillow, the coolness of the air in his room. And half a second after that he remembers-
Nathan bolts upright, his eyes scanning the room, but there's no sign of her. He slumps, scrubbing a hand over his face, not even caring that he can feel it but instead wondering how he could have slept through her last moments; he finds himself hoping that she was sleeping too, that she hadn't laid there, awake, alone, afraid of what was going to happen to her, not waking him so he could be with her.
The grief is already rising, filling his chest, pushing at his throat, burning his eyes, and Nathan shoves it down and tries to distract himself with what comes next. Should he call Duke, the Teagues brothers, the station, let them all know that she's gone? Take the day off work so he can start to grieve or go in and try to distract himself from thinking about her for a little while longer?
They're not hard decisions, not in the grand scheme of things; he deals with tougher choices all the time on the job. This is different, though, and Nathan finds that it's just too much to deal with. Spending the day holed up in his room seems to be winning by default, if only he can pull himself together long enough to call the station to let them know he won't be in.
There's a noise by the doorway and he glances up, more out of habit than anything else. But there, standing at the threshold, cradling a cup of coffee in both hands and wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a shy smile, is-
"Audrey." For several seconds all he can do is sit there and stare, disbelieving; for half an instant he even wonders if he wants her there so badly that he's hallucinating. But he's not, she's real and here that's enough to finally launch him off the bed, barely giving her enough time to put her coffee on the nearby dresser before he wraps her in a hug so tight she probably can't get a full breath, but he just can't make himself let go.
There are a dozen questions he wants to ask, but the only one that matters at first is, "How?"
"I don't know." Her arms are wrapped tight around his neck, her answer breathed almost right in his ear. "I fell asleep not long after you did and when I woke up, it was morning and I was still here." She steps even closer, body pressed fully against his, shifting so that her face is burrowed in his neck. "Why, Nathan? What's different this time?"
"I don't know." And right now, he doesn't much care, either. She's still here, against all the odds, and every minute from here on out is more than they ever thought they'd have. Nathan isn't going to take any of it for granted.
He lifts an arm from around Audrey's waist to slide his fingers into her hair, pulling away only enough that he can tilt her head up and kiss her. She kisses him back without hesitation and Nathan starts backing her toward the bed, deciding that he'll be calling the station after all, letting them know that neither he nor Audrey will be in today. He'll have to call Duke, too, and Vince and Dave; they're going to have to figure out what happened, why she's still here and if it's a temporary reprieve or a permanent one. That his Trouble is gone, too, the same time she was supposed to vanish, is probably significant; he wonders if anyone else woke up this morning to find their Trouble has disappeared.
Later, though. He'll worry about all of that later. Right now, he and Audrey have a lot of missed time to catch up on. Everything else can wait.
--end--
Author: Shane Vansen
Category: Audrey/Nathan RST, romance, light angst
Spoilers: S3 in general
Rating: R (sexual situations)
Length: ~4200 words
Disclaimer: It's probably best that they're not mine; I'd screw it up. Haven, its characters and storylines, and the overall concept belong to people much more creative than I.
Summary: Where else would Audrey be on her last night in Haven but with him?
Author's Notes: Yeah, I apologize for the title. I was getting desperate.
Unbetaed, because basically I am insecure enough about writing smut for the first time in years that I wouldn't be able to handle any sort of critiquing, no matter how kindly worded. This how my brain works. *shrugs*
Started several weeks ago and so more or less AU now; no mention of anything we learned in Magic Hour or Sarah.
Not intended as a sequel to Star Light, Star Bright but it could work.
***
Nathan's two and a half beers into his plan to get wasted enough to pass out - and, with any luck, be hung over enough in the morning that calling in sick is a legitimate option - when there's a knock at his door.
For a moment he considers not answering; he's not even remotely in the mood for company and anyone who knows him at all knows that tonight, of all nights, he wants to be left alone. On the flip side of that, though, is that if someone's decided to interrupt him even knowing he won't like it, it means that it's probably something important.
Nathan's had enough of being the person everyone turns to for the important stuff, but there really aren't that many people who can deal with the problems they tend to face in Haven. In a matter of hours, there will be one fewer.
That thought makes him hurt, makes his chest tighten so that he can barely breathe, so he shoves it away, swallows another mouthful of beer, and opens the door. He isn't expecting the person who's standing on his front step. "Audrey."
She stares at him for a few moments and then her eyes flick away, staring at his chest, the door behind him, the ground. "I know you probably don't want me here, but I don't know where else to go." Her gaze meets his for a fraction of a second before dropping again. "I'll leave if you want me to."
He doesn't move, not because he doesn't want her there but because he can't process that she could ever think that in the first place, but his stillness must seem like an answer to her because she nods once, sharply, and starts to turn away. "I'm sorry," she says. "I'll-"
"Parker." His voice is raw, strained, enough to catch her attention. He takes a step back and gestures her inside. "C'mon in."
She hesitates for a moment before brushing by him on the way in, and even that small, inadvertent contact is enough to make him breathe out hard. At first it's the shock of touch that throws him, but tonight, hard on the heels of the too-rare feeling, is the realization that it might be for the last time.
That it might be the last touch he ever feels doesn't bother him that much anymore; even if the Troubles don't leave this time, he's almost used to the isolation now. No, it's the idea that it could be the last time he feels Audrey that has him gripping the door handle like it's the only thing keeping him on his feet. He takes a moment to lower his head and just breathe before closing the door and turning toward his living room.
He sees her eying the empty beer bottles on the coffee table. Instead of the comment he's half-expecting, though, she asks if he has any more. She's still standing when he returns from the kitchen so Nathan sits first, surprised when she takes the seat next to him rather than the other end of the couch or the chair.
They sit in silence for a while, and Nathan's almost done his third beer of the evening when Audrey blurts, "I wrote you a letter."
Surprised, he turns to look at her only to find she's picking at the label on the bottle. "Oh?" is all he can think of to say.
She nods without looking up. "Actually, I wrote you a bunch of letters but they didn't sound right so I kept ripping them up. The one I left you isn't much better than the first ones but I was running out of time, so...." She shrugs, like the deadline was because she was late for an appointment and not because by morning she'll just be gone. He knows her better than that, though, and can see how scared she is. Still not looking at him, she adds, "You should probably just throw out the one I left."
Nathan makes a non-committal noise, because this isn't a promise he can make her. Whatever she might have said to him, good or bad, no matter how much it might end up hurting him, that letter will be one of the last things he'll have left of her. He can't imagine throwing it out at all, let alone without reading it.
"I need to apologize." Audrey twists to face him and Nathan starts to realize that he's going to have trouble keeping up with her tonight. She's understandably on edge and when she's upset, she tends to get caught up in whatever's got her attention without really listening to anyone else. Nathan's pretty sure she's going to be full of stops and starts. "Back when I first told you about the Hunter, you said you couldn't understand why I wasn't fighting. And I-I lied."
Her hands are restless, twisting the beer bottle around, picking at the label, rubbing up and down her arm. Nathan takes the bottle away and lays one hand over both of hers, stilling them, but doesn't say a word. She seems determined to say something; he just needs to give her time to figure out how to say it.
"All I could think about was how Lucy loved the Colorado Kid and he died because of it." She's staring at their hands, his still resting on hers. "You, Nathan, you wouldn't have stopped looking for a way to stop all of this from happening and I couldn't risk that you would die too. But it was stupid to think you'd just give up, that you'd be any safer without me there to watch your back. I'm your partner and I wasn't there." Her voice cracks a little as she adds, "I messed up, so much. I'm sorry."
"Audrey," he starts, and grips her hands. "It wasn't just you who messed up. I let you walk away without even trying to figure out why you were." He'd just been angry and afraid and didn't know how to deal with it.
She finally looks up, corners of her mouth turned up in a small smile. "I knew you'd react that way. That's why I said what I said."
Part of Nathan is annoyed that he's so predictable, especially when that particular reaction is less than flattering. The rest of him kind of likes that she knows him that well.
It hits him all over again, that they're down to hours now. Seven weeks of chasing leads, of fighting each other almost as much as the approaching deadline, of doing things he wishes he never had to do and hurting people he never meant to hurt, and it was all for nothing.
He doesn't know how he's going to deal when she's gone. She's turned his entire world upside down in such a short amount of time and he doesn't know if he can navigate it on his own - he's damn sure he doesn't want to do it alone. But here, now, tonight, Audrey sitting on the couch beside him, her hands cool and trembling faintly under his, Nathan makes a decision. Come morning, he'd rather regret something he's done over something he didn't do.
That decision made, he reaches up, cups her face in both hands, and kisses her.
It's a gentle kiss, more a brush of lips against lips than anything else. Audrey's hands come up to wrap around his wrists but she doesn't pull them away, just holds on as she leans into him a little bit more.
Nathan leaves one hand on her face, his thumb stroking her cheek, but he wants to feel more. Letting his fingers curl in a loose fist, he strokes his knuckles along her jaw, down her neck, along the collar of her shirt, her hand still clutching his wrist. He follows his path back up the opposite side and then down again, only this time Audrey nudges his hand under the edge of the fabric.
He lays his hand flat against her skin, the heel of his hand resting along her collarbone, his fingers curving up and over her shoulder. Her skin is cooler than his, smooth under his fingertips, and he breaks their kiss to rest his forehead against hers.
When he lifts his head, Audrey's watching him with a look he's never seen from her before. He's caught glimpses of it over the past few months, enough to give him hope, but never anything this open or exposed. Their next kiss is less hesitant, more certain, lips parting at almost the same time, tongues meeting and tangling. Nathan slides one hand behind her head to hold her close and lets his other hand explore, his fingers trailing down her back, his palm smoothing over her hip and along the outside of her thigh, sliding under her shirt on the way back up, making her shiver and arch closer to him.
Nathan's not really thinking anymore, caught up in the fact that this is Audrey and he can feel her and he is touching Audrey. And hard on the heels of that is the realization that Audrey is touching him back, because her fingers are moving over him, stroking lightly, and he thinks she's making a point of touching whatever skin she can reach. Nathan's certainly not complaining.
Her touch disappears, almost disconcerting in its suddenness, but he opens his eyes to see Audrey's hands busy with his shirt, undoing the buttons, pushing it off his shoulders. He has to pull back to see so he can do the same for her, not able to work the small buttons by feel. He takes his time pushing her shirt off her shoulders, down her arms, trailing his fingers along her now-bared skin in the fabric's wake. She takes care of the tank top underneath herself, grasping the hem and pulling it up and over her head, and then Audrey's sitting in front of him in jeans and a bra.
For a few seconds he just takes her in. Nathan's somewhat surprised that his hand's not shaking when he reaches out for her, tracing a finger along the edge of the simple white bra. Audrey shivers at the soft touch, her fingernails digging in slightly where they're resting on his sides, and then she's sliding her hands behind his back and pulling him closer, lifting her head to kiss him.
He forgets, rather often actually, how small she really is; Audrey can be so self-assured, so fierce, that her personality gives the impression that she's bigger than she is. Now, though, his hands easily spanning her back, Nathan is sharply reminded of how easily he could hurt her.
Of course, she can break him without so much as laying a finger on him, so he supposes it's only fair.
It takes some doing, getting her bra undone, but he manages. He pulls away just far enough to pull the straps down and off her arms and gets a glimpse of pale skin before Audrey's pulling him back, mouth open against his, her tongue sliding along his. Then she's falling backwards onto the couch, pulling him with her, and it's been a long, long time since Nathan's felt this much bare skin against his own.
He rests his forehead against Audrey's, trying to catch his breath, but that's hard to do when just breathing means movement, more contact, the smallest shift of her breasts against his chest almost overwhelming to his long-denied nerves.
Audrey doesn't seem to be having as much trouble. While he's focused on breathing and on keeping his weight on his arms so he won't crush her, Audrey's hands are moving, her palms stroking up his biceps, down his back, her fingers sliding through his hair and digging into his lower back. She tilts her head up, her lips not quite touching his, and Nathan takes the not-so-subtle hint and kisses her.
It's so much, all at once. He's distracted by the heat of her body, by the slick slide of her tongue against his, and her hand sliding beneath the waist of his jeans startles him. Nathan gasps and jerks against her and Audrey arches beneath him, making a small sound low in her throat that he's never heard from her before but that he'd really, really like to hear again.
"Audrey," he breathes, and then she's reaching for the button of his jeans.
He needs to move, needs to get up to remove his pants and hers, but Nathan takes his time. He journeys down her body a little at a time, tasting her, learning her, finding the small mole on the underside of one breast and another near her navel. She makes that sound again, the one deep in her throat, and a few new sounds too, and Nathan is completely mesmerized by her reactions.
When he reaches the waist of her jeans he shifts back onto his knees, kneeling between her legs. Her skin's flushed from the top of her breasts up, the rest of her upper body marked here and there by uneven red marks he left behind. She's breathing heavily, short, uneven breaths that appeal to the purely male part of his ego.
He unbuttons her jeans and lowers her zipper, hooking his fingers in the waist and drawing her pants and underwear down and off her legs, leaving her completely bare before him. He takes several moments just to look until Audrey holds out a hand, and Nathan sheds what's left of his own clothing, takes her hand, and lets her pull him down on top of her.
Her legs part, letting him settle against her, and Nathan's brain just about quits altogether at the feel of her pressed so fully against him. His breath escapes with a long groan and Audrey's fingers curl into his back before she flattens her palm and runs it along his waist to just below the small of his back. He shudders and raises his head so he can see her.
Audrey's watching him, gaze steady as one hand drifts over his body. She gives him a languid smile, one that he returns automatically, then leans up for a brief kiss. "Hi," she murmurs as she rests her head back against the couch cushion and Nathan can't help but laugh, strained though it is.
"Hi," he says back, lips still tilted up in a smile, but any trace of amusement is wiped away in a millisecond when she reaches around to grasp him and guide him into her body. Then it's all wet heat and touch everywhere and Nathan's panting for air before he's even come to a stop.
He's got one arm along Audrey's side, his hand curled around her shoulder from underneath, and he's clutching her so hard he's afraid he's hurting her. He drops his head onto the cushion with a strangled groan, his mouth near her ear, and manages to grit out, "Don't move," between harsh breaths. It's been a long, long time since he's been in this position and it's even more incredible than he remembers.
Eventually he has enough control to lift his head. He presses a kiss to her forehead, another to her cheek, before brushing his lips across hers. Audrey makes another of those noises he's starting to crave and shifts against him. It's a small movement but it sparks through both of them; he can tell by the way she clenches around him, her nails scratching at his shoulder.
Nathan shifts his weight to one arm and runs the other down her side and under her thigh, pulling her leg up over his hip, and Audrey lets out a sharp breath when he slides even deeper. She arches under him with a full-body shudder and a jagged, "Nathan," and his name in that tone of voice does things to him he never would have guessed possible.
There's no way he's going to last nearly long enough.
But she might be close too, he realizes as he forces his scattered attention on her. Her hips are moving in uneven circles against his, sometimes arcing up into him, and already he can feel the erratic clenching of her inner muscles around him.
This part, Nathan remembers. He's still got one hand on her thigh, holding her to him, and he slides it under her lower back, changing the angle. Now he's rubbing against her where she needs it, her breasts pressed up against his chest, and she lets out a long, low cry, her fingers digging into his skin even harder.
They're not really moving much, just small rocking and circling motions with their hips, but Nathan stills almost completely when he manages to focus his eyes enough to really see her. This, here, now, is something he's hoped for for months now but had started to doubt would ever happen. And they might only have tonight, and she won't recognize him at all when she returns to Haven in twenty-seven years, but he wouldn't trade this moment for anything.
Nathan's never been very good with words and he definitely doesn't have them tonight, but there's one thing he knows he needs to tell her. "Audrey," he murmurs, and she half-opens glazed eyes to look at him. "I love you." And then he kisses her, deep, over and over, so he doesn't have to know if there's no answer.
There's a change in her rhythm, the noises she's making sounding more urgent, and Nathan's not sure how much more he can take. Her legs come up higher around his waist and his hips flex automatically, pressing as deep as he can go, then again, and again, before Audrey makes a little gasping sound and comes apart beneath him. He wants to see her through it, wants to see her face and discover the ways to make it better for her, but he's been hanging on by a thread pretty much since she pulled him down over her and it's just too much. He lets go.
When Nathan is able to scrape together enough brain cells to think again, he realizes that even though she's not complaining, all of his weight is resting on Audrey. He pushes himself up on one arm and with his free hand reaches for the back cushions, tossing them off the couch so they have more room. Moving carefully, he manages to manouevre both of them on their sides, Audrey securely between him and the back of the couch.
He can't stop touching her. She's watching him through half-lidded eyes, her hand resting against his chest, her fingers curling occasionally in a gentle stroke, and he can't stop touching her. He brushes her hair behind her ears, runs his fingers along her cheek, draws his palm down her arm and along her hip. He's only just starting to get used to this, to feeling her, to being allowed to touch her, and it's the most amazing thing. If he could touch her every day for the rest of his life, Nathan's pretty sure he'd still think it was the most extraordinary feeling.
It's only when she shivers that he realizes that she has goosebumps and guesses that it must be cold in the room. "Let me get a blanket," he says, dipping his head to kiss her before moving to get up, but her hand on his waist stops him.
"Or," she murmurs, running her fingers across his chest, and now he's the one shivering but for reasons that have absolutely nothing to do with temperature, "we could move to the bed."
It takes a few moments for her words to register, distracted as he is by her touch, but when they do he's pretty sure that's the best idea she's ever had. "Bed," he agrees, getting off the couch and holding out a hand to help her up. She intertwines her fingers with his and leans into his side as he leads her down the hall, but stops halfway there. Nathan pauses, turning to face her.
"For the record," she says, and this time her gaze meets his head-on instead of looking away like she usually does when things get too personal, "I love you too."
He stares at her for a breath, two, then his hands are on her face to hold her still so he can kiss her, hard.
They don't quite make it to the bed this time, but the wall outside his room works well enough.
***
Nathan wakes to the morning sunlight hitting him full in the face and mentally grumbles to himself for forgetting to close the curtains as he rolls onto his back.
The sheets are cool against his skin, the extra pillow wedged uncomfortably beneath his shoulder blade, and he opens his eyes and frowns at the ceiling as he tries to figure out what's bothering him so much about that. It takes his sleep-deprived mind a few seconds to realize: he can feel the sheets, the pillow, the coolness of the air in his room. And half a second after that he remembers-
Nathan bolts upright, his eyes scanning the room, but there's no sign of her. He slumps, scrubbing a hand over his face, not even caring that he can feel it but instead wondering how he could have slept through her last moments; he finds himself hoping that she was sleeping too, that she hadn't laid there, awake, alone, afraid of what was going to happen to her, not waking him so he could be with her.
The grief is already rising, filling his chest, pushing at his throat, burning his eyes, and Nathan shoves it down and tries to distract himself with what comes next. Should he call Duke, the Teagues brothers, the station, let them all know that she's gone? Take the day off work so he can start to grieve or go in and try to distract himself from thinking about her for a little while longer?
They're not hard decisions, not in the grand scheme of things; he deals with tougher choices all the time on the job. This is different, though, and Nathan finds that it's just too much to deal with. Spending the day holed up in his room seems to be winning by default, if only he can pull himself together long enough to call the station to let them know he won't be in.
There's a noise by the doorway and he glances up, more out of habit than anything else. But there, standing at the threshold, cradling a cup of coffee in both hands and wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a shy smile, is-
"Audrey." For several seconds all he can do is sit there and stare, disbelieving; for half an instant he even wonders if he wants her there so badly that he's hallucinating. But he's not, she's real and here that's enough to finally launch him off the bed, barely giving her enough time to put her coffee on the nearby dresser before he wraps her in a hug so tight she probably can't get a full breath, but he just can't make himself let go.
There are a dozen questions he wants to ask, but the only one that matters at first is, "How?"
"I don't know." Her arms are wrapped tight around his neck, her answer breathed almost right in his ear. "I fell asleep not long after you did and when I woke up, it was morning and I was still here." She steps even closer, body pressed fully against his, shifting so that her face is burrowed in his neck. "Why, Nathan? What's different this time?"
"I don't know." And right now, he doesn't much care, either. She's still here, against all the odds, and every minute from here on out is more than they ever thought they'd have. Nathan isn't going to take any of it for granted.
He lifts an arm from around Audrey's waist to slide his fingers into her hair, pulling away only enough that he can tilt her head up and kiss her. She kisses him back without hesitation and Nathan starts backing her toward the bed, deciding that he'll be calling the station after all, letting them know that neither he nor Audrey will be in today. He'll have to call Duke, too, and Vince and Dave; they're going to have to figure out what happened, why she's still here and if it's a temporary reprieve or a permanent one. That his Trouble is gone, too, the same time she was supposed to vanish, is probably significant; he wonders if anyone else woke up this morning to find their Trouble has disappeared.
Later, though. He'll worry about all of that later. Right now, he and Audrey have a lot of missed time to catch up on. Everything else can wait.
--end--