Title: I'd Rather Be With You

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Through Dead Again, though, once again, the main idea of the ep is not given away in
here. It's Carby fluff again. Of course.

Archive: It would be fabulous, but just let me know.

Disclaimer: They're not mine. Der.




I just didn't have the heart to wake Carter. He's so completely adorable when he sleeps. Of
course, I think he's adorable all of the time, but I digress. He's had such a long day, he deserves a
few hours of peace, even if it is on the couch in the longue at the hospital.

But, that leaves me laying the couch at Carter's apartment alone. Which is no good. His
apartment isn't any fun if he's not in it. This is actually kind of strange for me, because I usually
really enjoy my time alone, even if I'm in a relationship. I like the space to breathe and relax and
not worry about my significant other or about being a girlfriend. But, ever since I started dating
Carter, it's been different. I don't like spending as much time alone. It's not that I can't handle
being without him, it's just that I'd rather not. I love spending time with him, even if we're just
vegged out on the couch, watching TV in silence. What can I say? The guy makes me happy.

Of course, happy is a strange concept for me, too. I've been happy before. Just never this happy.
Usually I have found that being in a relationship with someone you want isn't nearly as good as
simply wanting someone. But this is so much better. I don't get tired of seeing him around all the
time, which is great considering we see each other just about all day every day.

Good God. I'm turning into such a sap. I'm laying on my boyfriend's couch, thinking about how
happy he makes me and how I don't like being without him.

But, we've being going out for a little over two months, and we're still in the honeymoon stage.
The I-can't-keep-my-hands-off-of-you stage. We act like a couple of high schoolers most of the
time. It's got to be annoying for everyone else.

But, ask me if I care.

I don't, by the way.

Everyone deserves to feel this way at least once in their life, and I think it's only fair that it's my
turn to have this. Not only have this, but to have it with someone who feels the exact same way
about me. That makes the whole situation that much more enjoyable.

Yep. I'm a sap, all right.

I'm a half-way unconscious sap, too. The television is lulling me to sleep, and I would like to be
awake when John comes home. Of course, I could always actually turn the damn thing off, but
that would require moving, and I just don't feel like it at the moment.

I'm halfway tempted to call the hospital and tell someone to wake his happy ass up and tell him to
come home. But, once again, that would require moving. He'll probably be back soon, anyway.

Yes, I did say "home," too. Because I basically consider this my home. We've spent the better
part of the last two months in this place. We go over to my apartment once in a while, but I like
this place much better. No history, no drama here. Just us. It's kind of like making a fresh start.
I guess, though, home would be anywhere Carter is. As mushy and sentimental as that sounds.


I need a hobby.

All of a sudden I feel someone touch my cheek and practically fly into a sitting position on the
couch, seriously freaked out.

"Whoa! It's just me!"

I look over and see Carter kneeling down in front of me, his eyes wide with surprise. Well, he
scared me. I didn't know I'd fallen asleep.

"Sorry," he tells me.

I shake my head, trying to get rid of the cobwebs that have gathered while I was napping. "It's
okay. I think I thought I was still awake, and thought I'd hear you come in. You just startled
me."

He leans in and gives me a soft kiss. Nope; still haven't gotten tired of kissing him. "My
apologies," he whispers.

"You're forgiven," I answer, kissing his forehead.

He finally moves from his position on the floor to sit next to me on the couch. "I didn't mean to
fall asleep on you like that. I guess I was more pooped than I realized."

I lean my head on his shoulder and close my eyes, sighing. "It's all right. I didn't want to wake
you up. Though, I didn't know you'd be asleep for that long."

He gently rubs my thigh. The man has magic fingers, I swear. "I was only asleep part of the time.
One of the med students waited around for me and insisted that she get what she came for, so I
had to show her around the hospital and explain how everything worked."

"Sounds like fun."

"Oh, it was. It was just what I wanted to do right then, too. Show some med student around
when I knew you were waiting for me at home. Good times had by all."

I chuckle a little and wrap my arms around his waist. "Well, you're here now, that's all that
matters."

I feel him turn his head a little, then he kisses my temple. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"


I look at him, confused. "I wanted to wait for you."

I love the grin that spreads across his face. "You're the greatest, Abby. You didn't have to wait,
but I appreciate that you did." He leans in once more and kisses me, this time not as gently, but
I'm not complaining. "So, should we be brave and cook something, or do you want to order in?"

"Order in," I say, not even pausing to think about it. I'm tired, he's tired, it's late, so why not let
someone else do the cooking for us?

He nods in understanding and stands up, unfortunately, to look for the rather large collection of
take-out menus we've collected in our time together. Hmmm. Maybe we should consider
cooking more often than ordering in. It probably wouldn't kill us. Of course, cooking requires
things like groceries and time, neither of which we have much of. Perhaps one day we'll be
adventurous and go grocery shopping together or something, but I don't see that happening in the
near future.

In less than an hour we've decided what nation we want our food from, ordered it, and we just
finished eating. Between the two of us, we know about a bunch of little-known, under-used take-
out places, so the delivery time is usually exceptional. Especially at this time of night. So, at the
moment, we're relaxing on the couch, letting our meals digest. That's when I notice that he's still
rubbing the back of his, and I get a brilliant idea.

Without a word, I stand up and leave him in the living room. I enter the bathroom and turn on the
water in the bathtub, waiting for the temperature to be just this side of almost too hot before
putting in the stopper to let it fill up. I dig out the Mr. Bubbles (yes, I am grown woman who
uses Mr. Bubbles. Want to make something of it?) and dump a bunch into the tub, watching it
foam up. Then I hurry into the bedroom to dig out some candles, find my lighter, then arrange
and light them strategically around the bathroom. I look over at the tub and see that it's about to
overflow, so I hurry to shut the water off. I stick my hand in for a moment. Perfect.

"Oh, Jo-ohn," I call.

He pauses for a moment before he finally says, "Yes?"

"Come hither!"

A moment later he appears in the doorway. He looks around in surprise and asks, "What's all
this?"

I shrug. "You had a long day. You need some time to unwind."

"A bubble bath? I can't remember the last time I took a bubble bath."

I pretend to pout. "Well, if you don't like..." I go over to pull out the stopper, but he puts a hand
on my arm.

"I love it. Thank you." He pulls me into a hug and kisses the top of my head.

"Of course, if you'd like some company, you know who to ask."

"I'd like some company," he responds, almost before the words are out of my mouth.

I grin into his chest. "I thought you'd never ask."

We take our time undressing each other (everything is a seduction with us) before we finally drop
into the tub. I sit behind him, which I don't think he was expecting. He was probably envisioning
the typical soap opera type of bubble bath. Of course, there's nothing wrong with that, but this
one is about him, so I need to be sitting behind him.

For quite a while, we just sit there. My arms are wrapped around his chest, his hands are lazily
stroking up and down my legs. My face is pressed against his, my chin resting on his shoulder.
Every so often, I turn and place a little kiss on his cheek or neck.

I love moments like this. Moments that seem to last forever. Moments that seem to last a
lifetime, but never feel long enough. I think that even if we were together forever, it wouldn't be
long enough. There would always be something new about him, something new that would
amaze and astound me. And I love that feeling. I think I can honestly say that I've never felt that
about anyone before. Of course, if he knew what I was thinking at this very moment, he would
probably get highly freaked out. We really haven't been going out long enough for feelings like
this to be abounding. On the other hand, I think there are times when you just know. Sometimes
you can be with someone for years and not realize that you're not supposed to be with that
person, and other times you're with someone for about a minute and you know that all the planets
are aligned, the sun is shining, and there is peace in the world, even if that world is just your own.

I mentally shake myself. I have to stop being so freaking sentimental. This can't be healthy.

"How's your neck feeling?" I finally murmur.

"Mmm. It's better," he answers drowsily.

"Only better? I think we can do better than that." I pull away from him a little so I can move my
hands up to his neck and begin rubbing. "Tell me when I hit the spot."

His head lolls forward. "At this point, anywhere you hit is a spot, just keep doing what you're
doing. It feels amazing."

So, I let him enjoy his massage for a while. He's earned it. And I know he'd do the same for me
if I had a sore spot (I'm considering faking one just so I can get a full body massage out of him,
but that's a different story).


"I owe you big time, Abby," he moans, obviously enjoying the rub down.

"What's to owe?" I ask. "You think this is some kind of chore for me? Believe me, I'm getting
as much out of it as you are."

"How?"

"Well, for starters, I'm touching you. That makes it a great day in my book. Secondly, we're
naked in a bathtub, together. That makes a great day even better."

He laughs a little, and pulls at my legs so they're wrapped around his waist. "I know how we can
make this day unbelievable."

"Oh, really? And here I thought we had that covered with that shower we took this morning," I
say to him, teasing.

"Okay, then. I know how to make the day supercalifragilisticexpialidotious."

I actually throw my head back and laugh. "Oh, yeah? You think you can live up to that word,
Johnny boy?"

He groans a little. "Please don't call me Johnny boy. It sounds creepy, like something out of a
serial killer movie."

"If you say so."

"The water's getting cold," he announces.

"Well, what do you suggest we do about it, Dr. Carter?"

He turns his head a little and grins at me devilishly. "I'll give you three guesses, and the first two
don't count." He stands up and grabs a towel off the rack while getting out of the tub. Then he
grabs another towel and offers it to me.

I stand up and quickly wrap it around my body; the water may be cooling down, but it's nothing
compared to how frigid the air feels after sitting in the water for about an hour. Ordinarily, I
would use the bathrobe that I've all but stolen from John, but after this morning's incident in the
shower, it's still a little damp. I put it in the dryer, but I just remembered that I forgot to turn it
on. I'll try to remember to do that later. Right now, I've got more pressing matters to attend to.

I mean, when John Carter is standing almost completely naked in front of me, forgive me for
completely blanking out on everything else around me. But, damn...he's hot. It's quite
distracting.

I pull the plug out of the drain before we make our way to the bedroom. Carter wastes no time
with taking off our towels and throwing them into a heap in the corner. I love how neither of us
are self-conscious in the slightest about being naked in front of each other. Not even at the
beginning of our relationship did it bother us. I suppose that when you're as close to a person as
we are to each other, even before we coupled up, you get past the point where it matters how you
look naked–just as long as you're naked together.

I look up into his eyes and see that he's no longer being playful; serious Carter has stepped in.
That's all right with me. I like serious Carter just as much as I like playful Carter. Every Carter
I've come across in our time together has been fabulous in his own right.

We lay down in bed together, and don't really bother with foreplay. Though, I suppose an hour
in the tub could be considered foreplay. He makes love to me as if we have all the time in the
world. We do, I suppose. At least for the moment. This is another one of those moments. I
really wish it could last forever. But even though it won't, I know we'll have more.

But, dear God, I love how this man makes love to me. He puts his whole body and soul into it.
He makes me feel like all that matters in the world is me, and it feels absolutely amazing. Of
course, it does help that he has told me on more than one occasion that I am, in fact, all that
matters to him in the world. It's nice to be told that once in a while. And John tells me things
like that on a daily basis. You'd think I'd get tired of it, or that it'd become annoying, but not
really. I love knowing that I'm important to him.

So, once again, I'm mostly unconscious. Of course, this time I have Carter's warm body directly
behind me and wrapped around me, instinctively trying to keep me safe from the world. He's the
only guy I've ever let get away with that. I don't generally feel the need to be protected, but it
makes him feel better, so I don't really mind. And, even though part of me is loathe to admit it, I
really kind of like feeling protected by Carter. Maybe that's because he lets me get away with
protecting him, too. We have a very symbiotic relationship.

I'm having another one of those nights where I just don't want to fall asleep. I'm not really
worried so much that this is a dream, but I'm just really enjoying the feeling that's washing over
me right now, and the way I feel in his arms, the feel of his breath on the back of my neck, the
peace in my soul, the joy in my heart, the contentment in my mind. It all feels too wonderful to
waste on sleep. However, sleep has a mind of it's own, and I can feel myself drifting off. But
even as I go, I can tell I'm smiling.

Yeah. He makes me happy.