Topic: The Answer Considered

Marin

Date: 2012-04-10 08:09 EST
Evan's fever broke sometime in the night and by the time the sky had begun to turn grey with dawning, he was feeling better. He wasn't out of the woods yet. It would take time for the bullet wound to heal, and he'd have to be careful not to tear the stitches or get it infected, but he was feeling better than he had in days. The sun was just rising, golden rays of light peeking in through Marin's bedroom window. The blankets were rumpled, cast-off clothing and a bath towel littering the floor. Evan had tucked the blanket up around her, pressing an affectionate kiss against her forehead, before creeping out of the room.

He'd found his clothes, clean but tattered, and had dressed and gone downstairs to make a pot of coffee, letting her sleep as long as she wanted. He'd even cleaned up the bathroom before he'd gotten dressed, rising early, unable to sleep any longer. He had a to-do list a mile long starting with trimming his hair and beard, which were starting to make him look like a mountain man instead of a farm hand. He stepped out onto the porch, pausing a moment to examine the door, making a mental note to secure it later. Despite the ache in his side, he felt restless, tired of lying in bed, anxious to make himself useful.

Marin stirred slowly as the sound of movement through the house stilled, her hands reaching to where she expected to find the heat of his body beside hers. When her fingers encountered cool cloth, her eyes snapped open, suddenly transported from lazy half-waking to full consciousness, afraid to leap to the conclusion that Evan had left her during the night. She blinked in the glare of dawning sunlight from the window, pushing herself to sit up and look around in faint confusion. She recalled soft words and softer touches, the fright of the night completely forgotten in the passion that had followed.

A faint smile touched her lips; she did not believe Evan would have left her, not after their sharing of one another in the darkness. Slipping from the bed, she went in search of clothing herself, her hands still in the process of twisting her curls up into a claw at the back of her head as she stepped down the stairs. "Evan?"

There was the tell-tale drip and distinct smell of coffee percolating in the kitchen, a hint that he was still around somewhere. He hadn't gotten around to starting breakfast yet, but that was the next thing on his list. The front door was cracked open a little, letting in a cool morning breeze, as well as a shaft of morning light. Out on the porch, he had set up a makeshift barber shop, a mirror propped against a can atop a barrel and him stooped over with a scissors in his hand, snipping at hair and beard in an awkward and rather clumsy fashion. "Out here!" he called, hearing her call his name.

She was drawn toward the smell of the coffee, detouring through the kitchen before following the sound of his call to ease the front door open. Her gaze touched on the dented wooden panel that guarded her home, the lock that had been shot off the night before, and a shudder touched her in remembrance of that gunshot - she'd thought the object of that bullet had been Evan, which was why she had come to the top of the stairs in the first place.

Stepping out onto the porch, she squinted a little in the morning sunlight, her gaze lowering to where her ....employee" fiance" lover" She didn't know which he was, yet hoped for the second and third with a fervor that surprised her. Tucking her arms about herself, she took up a lean out of his light, watching him with a fond smile. "Need a hand?"

His eyes slid sideways to look at her, and distracted by the sight of her, he mishandled the scissors, nearly cutting his cheek open. "Damnit," he cursed, brushing his fingers against his own cheek and scowling when he saw blood. It wasn't a serious cut, just a scratch but enough to draw blood. "You are a distraction, woman," he remarked, wiping the blood on his pants and looking back to the mirror. "If you could just get the back, I'd be much obliged."

"Idiot," she insulted him fondly for his ridiculous new cut, pushing from her lean with a low chuckle to take the scissors from him. Their heights were so disaparate that even with him sat down, she barely had to bent to touch a gentle kiss to his little injury before slipping around behind him.

"What possessed you to poke yourself in the cheek with scissors, anyway?" she asked playfully, studying the mess of his hair for a moment before taking charge of trimming it back. "I don't look that scruffy this morning."

He snorted, head following her as she kissed him and slipped around behind him, admiring the view. "You're about as far from scruffy as they come." He turned a little sideways to smirk at her, feeling his oats this morning, unable to resist the urge to tease her, and not sitting still as he should be doing if he wanted her help. "By the way, you lost the wager."

Marin laughed, the sound much lighter than it had been, far easier on her lips this morning than in the days before. Such a difference one night could make. As the scissors carefully followed the line of his neck, neatening up the cuts he'd made, she deliberately leaned against his back. "You never set the stakes, so I'd say that the wager was never agreed on," she countered his teasing smirk, one hand turning his face forward once again by means of fingertips beneath his chin.

He was grinning from ear to ear, dimples in his cheeks peeking through the scruff that passed for beard now that he'd trimmed it, turning his face forward for a moment before turning back to grin up at her, gray-green eyes clear and bright and dancing with mischief. "I told you you wouldn't last a week. Hell, you didn't even last a night."

Never mind that he was just as much, if not more, to blame for their little tryst, but he couldn't help but tease her anyway.

Marin

Date: 2012-04-10 08:11 EST
"Oh, har, har," she drawled in giggling sarcasm back at him, her fingers turning his face toward the orchards once again to try and finish his trim. "You cheated, anyway. You called me Mare." She'd yet to explain why this meant so much to her, but the reaction he'd gotten from each offering of that nickname thus far had to have given him some clue as to just how deeply it touched her.

There was that derisive snort again. He wasn't buying her excuse. "That's your name, ain't it?" He kept his head forward this time, letting her finish, turning thoughtful, wondering if she minded that he'd shortened her name. Given the intimacy of the moment, it had just come naturally. "Reckon I should have asked first."

Her smile softened as she lowered the scissors, leaning past him to set them on the rail before brushing the excess hair from his shoulders and back. "No, you didn't need to ask," she assured him quietly, leaning forward to wrap her arms about him, one hand curling up to his cheek as she kissed his jaw tenderly. "It means more than you could imagine, though. My father used to call me Mare; I haven't heard it in almost seven years."

He turned his head toward her when her arms went around him, touched by her warm, gentle show of affection, wondering if she really did love him and if so, how he had managed to get that lucky, but then she was explaining about her father, and his expression turned compassionate. "That how long he's been gone?" he asked, already knowing the answer, but asking anyway, as curious about her life and her past as she seemed to be about his.

Her gaze had settled upon the overgrown orchards before them, on the thick fallen trunk close to the house that had lain so long on its side it had become a part of the ground. "Yes," she murmured, her profile pensive but without the intense grief that still marred her when she spoke of her mother. "He and my brother, Greg ....they were killed on the same day, caught under a tree when it fell during a storm. I wasn't even here, I was on Earth." Her smile was a little bitter, but resigned. Whatever blame she had assigned herself in the aftermath of that double tragedy was gone now, the worst of it accepted and left behind.

He studied her with that quiet way of his, more observant than anyone gave him credit for. He reached for her hand, sliding his fingers through her own, touched by her grief and an obviously strong will to survive not unlike his own. They'd both found themselves alone in the world and had found the will to go on. He seemed to sense a hint of guilt in her voice, though he believed there was nothing she could have done to prevent their deaths. "It ain't your fault."

Unlike the guilt he felt for Ellie's death. If only he'd been there sooner, he might have been able to prevent it. If only he'd been stronger, he might have been able to brave the fire and the smoke and save her. It wasn't from lack of wanting. Or lack of courage.

Feeling his fingers close over hers, her gaze left the fallen tree that had killed her father and brother, settling to meet Evan's compassionate eyes with intimate understanding. "I know," she sighed softly, smiling a little as her forehead touched his, the tip of her nose rubbing tenderly along the smooth side of his own. "It's over and done, and nothing we say or do can bring back the dead or change history. I learned that the hard way, but ....I hope I can do their memories justice." Her eyes closed as she leaned into him, offering all her trust to the man in her arms as the only one who could possibly guide her through whatever was to come.

He let go of her hand to slide his arms around her slim waist, pulling her onto his lap. "Your family would be proud of you, Marin." Once she was on his lap, he reached up to lay a gentle hand against her cheek. "You're a very special woman." The look on his face underscored what he said. He was a man of his word, an bluntly honest man, albeit a man of few words. He said what he meant and he meant what he said. "You're keeping their dream alive, and I'd be honored and proud to be part of that dream."

Drawn into his lap, for once Marin didn't mind that her feet had left the ground or that she was still obliged to tip her head back to meet the gorgeous gray-green gaze that caressed her own. Somehow with Evan, none of the things that had always annoyed her about being small seemed important at all.

Even as she admired his newly groomed appearance, reflecting that she'd never actually seen anyone quite as jaw-droppingly handsome as this, what he was saying made itself known to her, and her jaw really did drop, releasing a quiet gasp of delighted surprise. "Really?" she asked, needing to hear him say it, needing to be certain of what she thought he was saying. "Is that ....Will you marry me, truly?"

"Kinda silly, ain't it' We only just met. People will think..." He broke off, brows drawn downward as he realized something. Rogier thought they were already married. What if they did it in secret' Neither of them had any family to speak of. Who would know the difference? But then, she was a proper lady and she deserved a proper wedding, and after last night, he realized that as silly as it seemed, he was in no hurry to leave her. In fact, he thought he'd be content to stay with her as long as she'd have him. "I reckon you oughta let me ask that."

Marin

Date: 2012-04-10 08:13 EST
Marin's hand curled to his cheek, drawing his gaze back to hers. "I don't care what people think," she told him firmly, the sincerity of that insistence shining clear in her words and expression. At his additional comment, however, she felt herself blush a little. "We could pretend I never said anything," she suggested, before realising something. "You know, that's the second time you've avoided outright answering that question."

He looked back at her, green eyes meeting blue, a heartfelt expression on his face. "Lost someone I loved once, Marin. I don't reckon I wanna go through that again." That wasn't a no, however. He'd thought about it while he was lying in bed the previous night, watching her face in the moonlight, wrapped in each other's embrace. "If I get married again, it's for love and for life, not convenience." He watched her closely to see her reaction. Though she didn't know it, she held his heart in her hands.

She stared at him, almost insulted by the wary insinuation that she had asked him purely to get herself out of her little problem. "I would never propose a marriage just for convenience," she said vehemently, her expression betraying how appalling she found even the idea of tying herself to anyone for no reason that involved her own heart. "Evan, you asked me last night if I'm falling in love with you. I answered you truly - if you didn't believe me, why did you ....Why make love to me as though you did?"

Distress had blossomed in her eyes and voice as she spoke, genuinely upset by the thought that their shared night had been nothing more than a simple relief of tension for him when it had meant so much more to her.

He frowned at her as she misunderstood his meaning, or perhaps she understood him completely. "I believe you, Marin. It's just..." He licked his lips, trailing off a moment. "I reckon..." He stammered, nervously, searching for the right words. "I think I'm falling in love with you and....I need to be sure you're sure." He sighed, unsure he was explaining himself properly, unsure she'd understand what it was he was trying to say.

"I am sure." She sat up from her lean in his arms, unable to think of any words that could convince him of her sincerity. Instead, her lips found his, a slow kiss that built to fervent promise and desire not just for what they had already shared, but for the time ahead of them together. "I have never been more sure of anything, Evan," was whispered against his lips. "Never."

His eyes drifted closed as he savored her kiss, that kiss reassuring him perhaps even more than her words, feeling the love and desire that was growing between them that transcended words, defied explanation. He opened his eyes, looking at her in wonder when their lips parted, still wondering if all of this wasn't just a dream, a hint of fear in his eyes that needed to be shared. "I don't-I don't wanna lose you."

That fear cut her deep, touching on a similar feeling deep in her own heart, though one she had never felt as keenly as he did. Sliding from his lap, she slipped between his legs, touching the tip of her nose to his as her arms wrapped warmly about him, fingertips stroking through his newly trimmed hair. "Then don't let go," she whispered fiercely, gazing into his eyes with all the determination that colored the truest decisions in her life. "I'm not going anywhere, Evan. I want to be yours, in every way I can be, too much to let something drag me away too soon."

That fear was at the crux of the matter, the one and only thing that might hold him back, but he didn't want to let fear rule his life, not anymore. He looked into those beautiful blue eyes of hers, recognizing the determination there and the growing affection that was mirrored in his own eyes. "I ain't gonna lose you like I lost Ellie. I can't," he told her with equal determination, admitting the fear that was holding him back.

"I'll make you a deal," Marin offered softly, holding his gaze with that tender ferocity still as she leaned close into his embrace, ignoring the crush of her chest to his in favor of keeping his attention with her words. "You look after yourself and don't get killed, and I'll do the same. I fully intend for us to die in our bed, surrounded by children and grandchildren."

Marin

Date: 2012-04-10 08:17 EST
He had to chuckle a little at that, his mood lightening at her suggestion, despite the seriousness behind it, feeling hopeful for the first time since Ellie had died. She was not only promising him love and home and family, but she was promising him a future. "Grandchildren, huh' Reckon we'd have to have children first." He smiled softly at her, meeting her gaze, reaching out to brush his fingers against her cheek. "Reckon it's a yes then."

"Yes!" Her sudden squeal of delight was muffled by the firm press of her lips to his once again, her arms tightening around his neck as her smile curved to his mouth. Hands slipped from his back to cradle his jaw, softening, deepening that kiss until she was breathless, drawing back with a wide, deeply fond smile.

"You know ....I have heard that making children requires a lot of practise," she heard herself murmur, deliberately innocent in her not-so-subtle allusion toward sealing the deal.

He chuckled again, but not until after quite thoroughly kissing her, happily doing his best to take her breath away. "Haven't even had breakfast yet. You're gonna wear me out," he remarked with a grin, assuming she meant she wanted more of him now, right this minute, that she couldn't wait any longer. His smile turned serious when he suddenly seemed to realize what she was saying and that she was serious. "You want a family....with me?"

After what had transpired between them the night before, there was a small chance she could already be with child, but he pushed that thought from his head. There was no sense in putting the cart before the horse, so to speak. If it happened, it happened, and he'd be the happiest man in the world.

He'd assumed right, in both senses, and Marin's bright smile promised him her answer before she put it into words. "I did say I wanted a future with you," she reminded him warmly. "That includes children. Who knows" Maybe the children we have won't be cursed with being as small as me, when they have you for their father." Those sapphire eyes he seemed so taken with glittered playfully as she leaned against him for a moment longer. "But being a man, of course you want feeding first." She made to step back, feigning an ability to turn her libido off in favor of pursuing another of his desires.

"Small?" he repeated. He'd never really seen her as small. Petite in stature maybe, but what she lacked in height, she more than made up for in spirit. He snorted. "There ain't nothing wrong with how you look, Marin. Hell, I ain't never met anyone as lovely as you." He felt heat creep into his cheeks as he just blurted out what was he thinking, putting it as politely as possible. His gaze drifted downward to admire those parts of her that weren't so petite, and another smile flickered across his face. "Of course, unless you got other plans."

She followed his gaze downward, as though only just realising that her chosen garment for today did rather serve the generous swell of her bosom up on a plate, as it were, and giggled lightly. Her arms came up, pretending shyness as she covered herself. "And you call yourself a gentleman," she teased laughingly.

"I don't recall using that word. I'm from Texas, ma'am. We're Rebels. We do what we want." He moved to his feet, stepping toward her and taking her by the shoulders to press her back against the house. Towering over her, he could take what he wanted, if he wanted to, but despite his teasing, he really was a gentleman, through and through.

He set his hands to either side of her, leaning close to press his lips against the side of her neck, his voice close to her ear. He was definitely feeling his oats this morning. "You want me to be a gentleman, Marin, or you want me to take what I want?"

She shrank back against the siding of the house, her hands falling to press flat against the rough wood as she grinned up at him, only too pleased to be loomed over if it was Evan doing the looming. As rose blossomed over her skin, her head tilting to offer him more of the throat he was already tasting, he was treated to her tender, husky moan as her hands rose to clench into his shirt. "Be a gentleman later," she purred into his ear, brushing her lips to the lobe lightly.

She had lit the fire of passion in him, and that fire had not yet been quenched. It had been years since he'd laid with a woman, years since he'd had any desire, too consumed with another kind of passion, until now - the passion that was vengence. But that chapter in his life was over now, and she had given him a reason to live. Without hesitation, he pressed his mouth against hers, kissing her deeply and passionately, leaving them both breathless and when he was done with that, he swept her up into his arms and carried her back inside, back upstairs to her room, where he intended to have his way with her until morning became afternoon.

((And again, massive, enormous thanks to Evan's player for this scene!))