Author: ColieMacKenzie
Subject: Waiting for the Night - HBX Challenge April 2007

AN: JAG and its characters belong to Bellisarius Productions; I’m just borrowing them for my, and hopefully other people’s, entertainment.

Rating: IM 15
Classification: H&M romance

AN: Woohooo, I'm the first for this month, LOL! :-)
Actually went to bed last night having just read the new challenge lines, and woke up this morning with the idea in my head. It refused to give me any peace to do my other work until I sat down and typed. Against my usual posting habits, I’m putting this out there without letting it sit for a while, without much fiddling – just the way it poured out. Leaving me to your mercy! :-)
This has probably been done time and time again, yet I couldn’t help but write it anyway, hoping it has its own uniqueness. I won’t tell you more so as not to spoil – you will figure out easy enough at which point in the show this is set. Please enjoy, and let me know what you think.

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Waiting for the Night

cold. mind numbing cold. he shivers, tries to remember where he is. and why. water everywhere. ice cold. crashing over him, pulling him under. he struggles in desperation. sputters when his head manages to bop up again. only to be tortured by the arctic wind whipping across his face. hollering in deafening intensity. he spits up some water, the strong salty taste the only thing he is marginally aware of. while everything else turns numb. his eyes close. it is no use. he doesn’t want to die. so much to live for. so much still to do. to say. so many regrets. a tear makes its hot trail down his cheek. a barely-there tingle on his frozen skin. suddenly she is there. ‘Harm,’ she whispers. her voice low. whispery. seductive. he is floating. weightless in space. opens his eyes. to find her face close to his. warmth surrounds him, invades his senses. her arms and legs wrapped around his body. holding on. so tight. face flushed. hair messy. the red halter dress undone, pooling around her waist. her lips on his. soft and tender. the answer to all prayers. her body rocking in unison with his. her moist heat engulfing him. gripping him. her breathing choppy, mirroring his. he feels the build-up. the way to the sky and the stars. she’s rocking harder. erratic. desperate. he pulls away. just slightly. to search out her face. looks deep into her eyes. into her soul. searching for an answer. she provides him one. but it’s not the one he wanted. “we’re getting.” she whispers. pants. “too good.” her hips twisting. stealing his breath. “at saying.” a groan, low in her throat. “goodbye.” goodbye. it echoes. Goodbye. nooooooooo! his heart screams. the waves are back. coming together from all directions. to meet above his head. and take him under. washing her away in a heartbeat. sarah. his last thought. “Sarah!”

“Sarah!” His scream rouses her from a restless sleep. His head is thrashing from side to side, his dark hair a stark contrast to the white of the hospital linen and the paleness of his face. Her hand is gripping his, and she uses the other to slide it through his hair, across his forehead and his cheeks. Trying to calm him down and free him from the throes of his dream.

After they had all left, she had come back here. Had begged off from Mic, claiming to need solitude. He had answered with a look of sadness and understanding, and they both knew, in that instant, there wouldn’t be a wedding. In the middle of the night, she had snuck back into his room, past the nurses. To be by his side. Couldn’t fathom the thought that he might be alone. That he almost had died. Without knowing. So she came back, took his hand in hers, and laid her head next to his body on the hospital bed. Cried hot, quiet tears at the thought that she had almost lost him for good. He had been asleep. Didn’t notice she had come. It was good this way. Then she had slowly nodded off herself, the exhaustion finally taking its toll.

“Sarah…” he mumbles once more, her name hardly recognizable. Yet she knows, it is she he’s calling for. A warmth spreads through her like she hasn’t felt in a long time. “No, Sarah, don’t go… don’t leave me…” And she knows, she’s never going to leave him, ever again.

“Shhh,” she whispers, soothingly, while her fingers keep sliding through his hair. “Everything’s alright now…” She doesn’t know what else to murmur but platitudes, yet in her heart she realizes that they are true. Everything will be alright now. She places a soft kiss on his forehead, feeling his raised temperature burning her skin.

Her voice is back, penetrating through the fog in his brain. The water is gone. He feels his fingers and his toes. Smells her subtle perfume. So unique. So her. Feels a hand on his, soft and warm, and tender touches on his scalp. He tries to open his eyes; his lids feeling like lead. But he fights them, has to see her, to make sure. And when he manages, he is rewarded with that smile of hers, the one that has haunted his dreams for years. The room is plunged into darkness, apart from a few spills of light peeking in from the hallway. It illuminates the outlines of her features, bathing her in an ethereal radiance. Like an angel. His angel.

“What happened?” His voice is raspy, and she automatically reaches for a cup on the nightstand. Dips a finger into the water, then draws the wet fingertip over his lips to moisten them. He takes a few small sips when she tilts the cup to his lips, trying to wash away the salty taste that seems to linger on.

“You had a nightmare.” Her fingers keep sliding paths through his hair. Wandering across his face. Smoothing his forehead. Trailing his cheekbones. Her touch overwhelms him like no other woman ever has. It suddenly echoes in his memory, 'we’re getting too good at saying goodbye,’ reality and dream strangely mingling. He finds the strength to lift his arm, grab hold of her wrist and bring her closer. Her eyes are wide. Sparkling in the dark. Questioning.

“Don’t say goodbye again.” He begs, desperate to keep her close. All his defences down. “Don’t leave.”

His eyes are piercing in their intensity, and she feels her tears spilling over. “I won’t leave,” she whispers, her face close to his.

Her breath tickles his face when she continues, “I promise. No more goodbyes. It’s time for our beginnings.” And then she kisses him. Brings her lips to his in gentle, quick, almost teasing touches. Afraid to hurt him with more. But any pain is worth this. So he holds her tighter, closer, and deepens their kiss. Implores with the tip of his tongue for her to open up to him. And she does, with her heart, her soul, her everything. They meet with aching tenderness, and effervescent joy.

His exhaustion becomes prevalent, and she levels off their kiss with a few more soft touches of her lips to his, before she pulls away. Then, slipping her shoes off her feet, she climbs completely onto his bed. Settles next to his strong, thank God so resilient body. Their hands still entwined. Her head resting on his chest. Holding on. She listens to his breathing evening out when he succumbs to the fatigue. Listens to his fervent heartbeat, strong and loud in his chest. So close had it been to giving out forever. Forever.

And she knows: Forever is just beginning.

The End