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[drip]

[drip]

Damn shower is dripping again, but I'm not getting up. Instead I curl tighter around the warm body in my arms, which has finally given up trying to get out of bed and is fast asleep. I'm damned if I'm going to let go of him before the morning.

[drip]

The first night, I get up to get a glass of water. When I go back into the bedroom he's up and dressed and out the door before I can get my mouth open to say, "Stay."

[drip]

The second night I do some of that proper preparation stuff, so there's a bottle of water on the nightstand. So after we stop sweating and panting I reach over and hand him the bottle, watch as he tips his head back. My fingers reach out and stroke down the line of his throat, feeling the muscles pulse with each swallow. He hands it back to me, exactly half-empty, and I drink what's left. There's a bunch of rustling noises and I open my eyes to find him dressing. I reach my hand out again, and this time my mouth works.

"Fraser," I say, "Stay."

He looks at me, his eyes dark in that pale face, but there's not enough light to see what's in them. He leans down, brushes my lips with his and then he's gone.

[drip]

So here we are - third night - and tonight I am not letting go, even if tomorrow I am dead of thirst or totally nuts from the Chinese water torture. I'm holding on through all the twitches and murmurs and , man, he's a restless sleeper. Makes sense though, all that outer calm so the unconscious's gotta let it out somehow. Me, I sleep like a stone. Takes me a while to wind down, but once I'm out, I'm out. Stella used to say it was like sleeping with a corpse - she used to check I was breathing. Waking up's a bitch though. Have to set the alarm to nuclear explosion.

[drip]

Sometime during the night I've fallen asleep on guard duty, heh, and he's twisted round in my arms. I wake up slowly like I'm swimming up through water, and as I break the surface I can hear a whisper.

"... Ray ..."

And wow! Yeah, this was worth holding on for. Look into those eyes, look at those lips ... and you know the only thing better than staring at those lips is kissing them. So I do.

Fourth night, and I'm picking him up from the Consulate. He's changed into civvies - looks hot. Natchurally. But what warms me right up inside, he's got a change of clothes with him under one arm. And a small paper bag.

"Hey," I say as he gets in. "What's in the bag?"

He gives me one of them half smiles of his.

"Washers."