Kate Warner (justdidntseeit) wrote,
Kate Warner
justdidntseeit

[[ charleston, south carolina ]]

[ "so you're glad we decided to stay?" ]
Kate all but melts into Bill's side, her heart beating too fast.

The carriage house is dark and silent, save for her breathing and Bill's; waves rolling onto the nearby shore are a low, relentless blanket of sound.

"I should let you pick out unmentionables more often," she says, hiding a grin against his chest.
Tags: bill pardy, charleston, kate warner, oom
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His own heart is still jack-hammering in his chest and he's working on getting his breathing slowed.

Arm going around her, his hand settles between her shoulder blades and he's grinning.

"If this is how shoppin' works I'm gonna take you more."

Never mind carrying bags and the receipts.
She hooks a leg over his, heated skin sliding over skin.

"But not every time, sheriff — can't ruin all your surprises."
"Oh? Hmm... "

Moving his hand up and down along her spine, he mulls it over.

"So what's the scale like, then? Every two out of three? Four outta five?"

He's trying to hold a straight face, but it's quirked at the edges.
With a pleasant shiver, she arches into the light press of his palm.

"You can come along and pick on your birthday," she says, equally serious. "Maybe every other Valentine's Day. That keeps it special."
"Well, I guess I can agree t'that."

A beat, and then he looks down at her.

"What about anniversaries?"
She nuzzles his jaw.

"Ask me when I can think straight."
His chin tilts and his eyes slip shut.

"Alright."

Pulling in a deep breath, he relaxes out; wearing a satisfied smile.

With his free hand he pulls the sheets up higher around them.
She trails two fingertips along his collarbone, tracing absent patterns and tiny circles on warm skin.

Spent and sated, she drifts momentarily.

A soft sigh, and she shifts, her leg sliding higher on his thigh.

Her mouth opens, closes — opens again.

"Hey."
With her touch his smile tugs higher, and he's on the edge where things are soft and fuzzy and just about to blur out altogether.

Her voice brings him back, and he cracks an eye.

"Hm?"
She swallows.

"We're — we're good, right?"
He hears her, but doesn't get the question.

His other eye opens, and he looks down at her.

"Were we not before?"

Thinking that maybe it's about them staying, he gives a small nod.

"We're okay, Kate. M'glad we're here."
"Me, too."

A soft, brief smile graces the corners of her lips at his assurance, and she almost swallows what she wants (needs) to say next.

"But I meant — this."

Her palm slides to the center of his chest.

"Am I making you happy?"
That takes him by surprise, and he's awake now; he lifts his hand to cover hers on his chest.

"Kate-- 'Course y'are. I ain't felt like this in-- " he pauses, then shakes his head. "I ain't felt like this ever."
Her already flushed cheeks darken further.

Fingers curling on his torso beneath his palm, she turns her head to press a kiss to his shoulder.

Her eyes close; she breathes in, then out, and wishes her tongue didn't feel like sand in her mouth.

"In bed, sweetheart."
He blinks slowly at her.

"Oh."

Unable to help a chuckle now that he's caught on, he gives her hand a squeeze.

"Kate, y'outta have no worries, there."
"I — "

She frowns in the safety of the darkness, caught between wanting to let this go with a breezy agreement and needing to be certain.
He stops his smile when she hesitates and he realizes there's something wrong here.

"Kate, what is it?"

His hand stills on her back, and the other loosens on her hand.

"Am I not-- "
"No, you are, it's not — not that."

She shakes her head, feeling small and stupid for bringing them this far, because now she can't retreat.

"After, um, the night at Demeter's, I — "

A breath.

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm enough. You know, just ... me."
"You wonderin' if I'm thinkin' 'bout Beckett?"

He lets go of her fingers so he can use his hand to push himself up some on the bed.

"I don't-- Kate... that was just an accident. It ain't like I-- You said the same thing."

Not a mistake, but something that unintentionally happened with them. Together.
"No, it isn't like that, it's — "

She shifts to give him more space, the slide of the sheet raising goosebumps on her bare shoulder.

"I don't want you to think this is me being jealous or petty. It's not that I think you're thinking about Kate — even though of course you can, I mean, god, she's gorgeous — but it's ... "

She takes in an unsteady breath, trying to remember where, exactly, she tripped over her own thoughts.

"After what we did, after having two women in bed with you at the same time, is it — are you satisfied with — with only me?"
He takes his time now, because it seems he's misunderstanding her at every turn.

Hearing her out, he shakes his head, but doesn't give a response right away.

In a way he's hurt; that she would think he would need more than what they've been sharing.

It also seems to him like she's been hurt; this concern comes from somewhere and he's wondering what he did to cause it.

Working his throat, he shakes his head again.

"Kate, you're enough. I only want you."
Throat tight, she closes her eyes — partly with relief, partly from shame for fearing he'd say anything but this.

"Okay."
He should let this drop, but now that it's out and hanging in the air he can't.

"Why are you askin' me?"

He can't see much in the darkened room, but his eyes are still on her.

"Did you think I-- " he doesn't know if he wants that answer, but he needs another--

"Is just me alright for you?"
Her eyes open, surprise and confusion washing across her features, visible even in the faint moonlight filtering through the curtains.

"Of course."
"So how come you're worried that I ain't satisfied with just us?"

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