Title: Forget Me Not

Author: Bunny

Rating: M

Disclaimer: As if this all belongs to me! :)

Summary: Set around Shadowboxing; Claire discovers an amnesiac Sylar wandering around and takes it upon herself to help him.

A/N: *peeks from behind tree* Hi all! I've said it once and I'll say it again, I am NOT giving up on this fic, it's just taking some time…Okay, fine a lot of time. I'm finally in the final semester of my degree (huzzah!), however that means clinical and written boards are rapidly approaching (boo!). As always, thank you all so very much for staying with this story. I only hope that I can keep up with your expectations. Just cuz it has been so long, you'll be pleased to know there's a little smexy smexy time included here. ;-P Enjoy and I hope to see you guys again soon!

Chap 18

Hit me one more time it's so amazing
How you shook my world and flipped it upside down
You're the only one who ever drove me crazy
'Cause you know me inside out

~ Inside Out, Britney Spears

Claire sat curled up on her father's bed unmoving for five days. She was acutely and painfully aware of how time passed, second by second. She didn't sleep. She didn't eat. Her entire existence felt like one enormous, hollow void that was swallowing her whole. Her breaths remained shallow since the very act of breathing threatened to break her in half. She simply remained curled up, not acknowledging the world around her.

That being said, she was fully aware of every second that went on.

Emma often sat in with her during those first days, usually just reading text books. Her dad and Peter seemed to disagree on every course of action that was debated; everything from whether to take her to a hospital to who should watch over her for a time period to whether or not to tell Sandra (a ghosting of a guilty stab passed through her at that one).

To her it was just the same old repetitive arguments.

Sweetie came in to sit with her on the fourth day, despite Noah's objections due to the violent nature of their last encounter. Claire willed her to leave, or at the very least remain silent. She however didn't have the energy to lash out again.

"I know these words are coming too late," she began softly, Claire thinking she'd roll her eyes if she cared enough. "But for what it's worth, I didn't know what was going to happen. After her father's death, Becky has been difficult. Finding things that calmed and made her happy were next to impossible during her childhood. Then these brothers found her, provided a life for her, gave her a place to be herself and a purpose. And I know you won't exactly admit it now, but I'm fairly certain that's a hope and dream you once had as well."

Claire's stomach dropped as she spoke, wanting desperately to shut her out completely.

"You know I've lived in that apartment for decades. You and I meeting was just random fate. I wasn't a plant, I never wanted to hurt you, and Becky only asked for my help during the last three weeks we were there. I genuinely like you Claire. I genuinely like your man. And I genuinely was trying to help you give birth to your baby."

Claire stayed still willing herself to reject her words, but part of them reached through and touched her. In her mind, she shifted and paid more attention to her visitor.

"If I knew where your baby was I would tell you, Honey Child, but Becky hasn't returned any of my calls. As much as it absolutely kills me to admit, she used me."

Sweetie touched her hand, slipping a cool metal object snugly into it.

"Once you're better, I'm positive you're going to hunt them down, and I most certainly do not blame you. Before passing, my husband gave me an emergency bag that I think you'll find useful. There's tan safe in my bedroom; use that key and the combination – my birthday in reverse – to get what you need."

The repenting woman hefted herself up with a long exhale. "I'm going to spend some time with my own daughter down south. I get it if you wind up hating me forever, but I am so very sorry for everything that happened." Sweetie leaned in to kiss her hair before leaving. "I hope you get her back, Honey Child. Her and your man."

The metal warmed quickly in her palm, its presence burned into her. Claire wondered what the safe held.

The next day held another unexpected visitor. While her dad and uncle were out running down yet another inevitably dead end lead, Emma remained behind to monitor her condition. At least with Emma she knew there wouldn't be any hovering, any awkward hesitation or obligation to try and make her feel better. Claire was sick of the awkward way Peter and Noah used small, uplifting words in her direction.

So much to her surprise the blonde ice queen came to the door. Tracy Strauss opened the bedroom door hesitantly, her sudden stopping indicated to Claire she must look awful. She looked back to the other room before coming all the way in. She wore light colored designer denim and a classy goldenrod sweater top. Far too chipper an image for her current mood. Shifting on her feet for a moment Tracy slid into the chair next to the bed. Claire made no movements as she eventually settled in with crossed legs.

"Didn't know I'd be babysitting today," she began with a weak laugh. Claire didn't find it funny. "I was actually hoping to see your dad. Do you know when he's coming back? The girl out there didn't seem to know."

She didn't even twitch a muscle in her direction, just wishing she would leave.

"Yeah, I thought so," muttered Tracy with a deep sigh. "I don't know how much time I have before I'm missed, so I really need to talk to him. Long story short I was having trouble controlling my powers and I met this man who seemed to be able to help people like me, like us. It was nice at first, he sent me on trips to recruit more specials for his Family. I felt like I was reaching out, doing some good." Claire would have rolled her eyes, wishing not for the first time that she could completely become lost in her own mind. "But now he's becoming possessive. He moved his home, saying he finally learned a way to keep the Family hidden. He invited me to meet him, offered me a place in his personal utopia. But things are just…weird now. The Kumbaya fest has become more intense in the past few months, and now, even the compass he gave me won't work."

Tracy reached into her back jean pocket. She just stared at the object in her hand, not bringing it close enough for the silent one to see. "It just keeps spinning," Tracy continued. "Started about 6 days ago. Then I got a call from Samuel yesterday saying I was an invaluable member and if I was still interested to meet him, so he could take me to their new location. A permanent, hidden location."

Wait, what name did she say? Who had she been working with? The wheels in Claire's head turned rapidly as she absorbed the information being given to her. Everything seemed to indicate this was the man she needed to hunt down, the man she needed to make pay.

"Anyway, it's just something I though Noah should know about. If you can talk at all, tell him yourself," she finished, tossing the item she had been holding onto the bed. It was a compass.

Tracy stood, beginning to head out of the room. Claire starred at the object. It was useless junk now, but the woman leaving be able to help. Crawling out of the shell she made for herself she stretched out slightly, feeling her muscles protest at any movement. The former aid's hand touched the doorknob when she spoke for the first time in days. "Did you say Samuel?"

Her voice sounded as cracked as her lips and her throat was so scratchy it was an effort to speak. The other blonde startled at the unexpected noise, turning back to her. "Yeah, Samuel Sullivan. Do you know him?"

Fiery emotion hit her for the first time in days, the suddenness of it nearly suffocated her. Having her daughter's ability on his side, the bastard had completely disappeared off the map. Now here was the chance to find him. Make him pay. And get her little girl back. Evenly glancing at the other woman she stated with controlled anger, "I'm going to make him bleed so much he begs for me to kill him."

The other woman lifted an eyebrow, sliding into the seat again. "Now this, I have got to hear."

Claire shared absolutely everything that had happened since last October. Her long story explained Sylar's memory problems, the pregnancy, the resulting emotional rollercoaster, ending with her recent kidnapping and labor. The entire time Tracy sat there appearing absolutely impassive, part of her political training she figured.

"What do you need me to do?"

"Tell me where the Family is, and I can handle the rest," she instructed sounding absolutely hoarse, but undeniably giddy at her cooperation. "And don't tell my dad, or anyone else for that matter."

"You're going in alone?" asked Tracy incredulously. "Claire, I don't like that. You're emotionally all over the place and probably only going to make a mess of things."

"Of course I won't," she lied reassuringly, a cold itch that could only be described as 'revenge' racing through her veins. "I want to be the one to make the plan. If any of them find out now, I'll be left out of the planning process. She's my little girl, I should get to call the shots here." The other blonde ticked her tongue, deciding whether or not this was a good idea. "You know I'm right."

Tracy closed her eyes and sighed, tipping her head back. Claire held her breath as she decided. Finally she nodded, checking her dainty watch, "I will find a way to call you in the next 48 hours. You'd better spend the time preparing, because I get the feeling the Carnival still moves around quite a bit."

"Oh, thank you, so much!" she cried out, hugging her tightly despite the slowness in her joints.

She smiled, tapping her hair gently, clearly unsure how to handle the affection. "Just, go take a shower, Claire," Tracy instructed with a good natured smile as she left.

X~X~X~X~X

As soon as Tracy left, Claire waited for Emma to check on her before slipping out the window. She left a brief note expressing she was alright and took a cab back to her apartment building. Following Sweetie's directions she entered the cluttered apartment choosing to take Tracy's advice here and shower quickly, too many memories from her personal bathroom. She needed to remain as closed off as possible. Once finished, she headed immediately to the security safe.

Swinging open the minivault she saw a large black duffel and sizeable stacks of money. Ignoring the cash for now Claire pulled out the bulky, and extremely heavy, bag. Before lugging it to her apartment she took a peek inside.

Looked like Christmas was coming twice this year.

Inside was full of guns, ammo, and holsters.

Claire smiled for the first time in a week, before shutting herself down again. All the calm and focus she had built up during her near catatonia needed to stay in place until this job was done. She couldn't allow herself to emotionally lose control before she had her baby back.

The blonde entered her darkened apartment, welcoming the familiarity. Not wanting to draw any attention to anyone who may still be keeping tabs on her place she chose to keep the lights off. Flopping Sweetie's duffel on the large table, she took a moment to take a deep breath. The place smelled as though it had been unoccupied for weeks.

With a one track mind she headed back to her room. Stripping out of her old clothes, she donned fresh black ones. Black pants, black tank, black boots, black jacket, even a black hair tie. She didn't want them to see her coming.

Choosing to keep her hair down for now, she turned to her bed. Reaching under the mattress she pulled out the gun that Matt Parkman had brought months ago. The redness of her nails popped in stark comparison to the smooth, slate metal. Emma had given her a manicure touch up while she had been catatonic, a kind gesture on her part. Gripping the weapon tighter Claire grinned, actually excited to see the bold color if it meant seeing her daughter for the first time.

As she made her way back to the living room she popped back the chamber to check for bullets. Distracted by the object in her hands, a noise in the corner of the sitting room startled Claire. Snapping the gun back together she whirled it to where she heard the noise.

With his ankle crossed on his thigh, Sylar sat in her oversized chair appearing relaxed. At the sight of him, she hesitated dropping her arms before following through. He regarded her coolly, no emotion whatsoever on his face or on his body. Just looking at him devastated the inner calm she had built up, a wall of rage steadily taking its place. All of the anger focusing on him. And damn, if simultaneously she didn't want him. Just the sight of him caused her stomach to lurch in anticipation. So much for emotional stability. Still starring at him she spat, "I should just shoot you on principle."

"You think you get to take the high road in all of this?" he asked, seeming almost offended.

Claire set the firearm on the table with a snort. "You're damn right I am," she snapped, attempting to control her breathing. To keep herself busy while she spoke, she began to fuss with Sweetie's bag. "You never showed."

"Would you care to know where I've been since we last spoke?"

"Nope," she snipped, licking her lips. Methodically she removed weapons from the bag. A switch blade, a .45 Smith & Wesson, a Glock G21, a Walther P999, refillable ammo for each type and more. "Because you never showed."

He allowed her to continue to remove additional firearms, silencers, and ammunition at a relaxed pace. She could feel his eyes on her. Silently she dared him to make the next move.

Finally he settled on asking, "Where's the baby?"

The simple question stabbed at her insides, tore her apart, made her want to cry out; but after days of being an emotional blank slate it was easy to not physically respond. It was childish and stupid of her to try, but Claire looked at him simply and retorted, "What baby?"

She didn't have a chance to breathe before she found herself thrown into a chair, which was then roughly slid up against a wall. Her eyes flicked to Sylar who now stood with his hand slightly out, his face indicating he was in no mood for games. His eyebrows knit together in fury and his shoulder remained tense as he stalked closer. "I've had several enlightening conversations recently," he spoke finally. He held up a photograph for her to see. "Not even the most enlightening involves this here."

Claire sucked in breath upon seeing herself from 3 weeks ago in the pictures. Her heavily pregnant self. "Where did you get those?" she managed to croak out of the side of her mouth.

"I met sect of individuals called the International Civil Union who were keeping close tabs on you, very close by the looks of things. They thought I might know where you and your baby were, and I thought to myself, 'Claire doesn't have a baby'. But the picture doesn't lie, unlike you." He dropped it to the floor, anger rolling off of him in waves, his body language growing more and more tense and she wanted nothing more than to confront it. "They, and another charming group called TriTruth, were absolutely convinced that I was the father."

He paused pointedly, telekinetically completely letting go of her mouth so she would have the chance to reply. Claire sat quietly, not daring to look away. She'd let him have his say before snapping back. When she clearly had nothing to add, Sylar's jaw clenched tightly as he reached back and pulled out a small stack of photographs.

"I thought, 'That's impossible, there's no way that baby could be mine'. But it is, isn't it, Claire?" he asked tersely. He threw the pictures on the ground. They were the ones that Emma had taken of her constantly growing stomach with the time stamps on them. She sighed quietly, closing her eyes, willing the bubbling anger to become productive. "How is the baby mine?"

She quirked her eyebrows up feeling snarky. "If it's just now time for the birds and the bees talk then I guess you really did have a screwed up childhood."

It was a low blow after everything about his past he had confided to her, but she couldn't help herself. She felt it was her job to make everyone around her feel just as despair ridden as she, no matter who they were. Claire wasn't surprised when the chair she sat on crashed into the door while she was still on it, but the pain that radiated down her left side proved to be a shock. She cried out at the impact, then again when she popped her elbow back into alignment.

"You felt that," he observed, somewhat muted. Blinking, his energy was returned. "How did you fix the pain?" She shrugged nonchalantly, beginning to turn her attention back to the weapon layout. "What are all those weapons for?" When she didn't respond his hand collided with her throat, pressing her forcibly into the wall again, knocking the wind out of her. "Why won't you answer me!"

"It's to get our daughter back!" she screamed. As though shocked he let her down, only adding to her anger. She stepped forward pushing his chest as hard as she could, causing him to stumble back. "That's right, our! Our daughter!"

Sylar grabbed her arms, holding them to his chest. His anger clearly defused in that moment as he asked, "A girl?"

Her fight instinct fizzled to nothing at the innocence of the question. "Yeah," she uttered gently.

"I have a little girl?" he repeated somewhat dazed, a far off grin settling on his features as she let her go.

A mixture of guilt and anger stabbed at her as she stepped back from physical contact with him in order to clear her head. "Where are they now?" she questioned getting back on track. "These two groups that you met up with. Where are they?"

"That would be four; those two, a mob boss, and a cult," he clarified with a threatening glint in his eye. "And they're all dead."

"Good," she sighed, relaxing just a fraction.

"Good?" inquired Sylar, extremely confused by her change of heart. "What happened to the no killing people rule?"

She rolled her eyes dramatically, starring daggers in his direction. "Did you really think the black bag and the guns were for show?"

Returning to her stash, out of the corner of her eye she watched him figure out the underlying meaning. She held her breath as she felt him come up to her, hovering just behind her back, his body heat radiating against her. He leaned near her ear so he could whisper. "Who took her?"

Claire's chest unexpectedly compressed as she hunched forward, her already bruised heart receiving another metaphorical punch. Immediately a strong arm wrapped around her stomach, the other across her chest to hold onto her shoulder. Sylar pulled her tightly against him, head resting lightly on top of hers. She clung onto his arms, feeling herself melt into him, taking solace in the comfort of the moment. In the end she sighed heavily, squeezing tighter into the embrace.

"It was Samuel, the Carnival, all of them." He let her go, turning away and pacing slightly back and forth. "They took me from the hospital when I was in labor, brought me to their camp. Then they paraded me around so everyone could see and put their hands on me. And then they took me to a secluded tent, tied me down for hours, before literally reaching in and taking her out of me."

With a frustrated cry of anger Sylar threw his hands up, sending her furniture flying to the opposite side of the room. She didn't flinch, wishing she had the ability to express her frustration in such a manner. "I didn't get to hold her, I didn't even get to look at her," she confessed keeping the sorrow out of her words.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he growled, spinning back to face her. Little electrical sparks danced around his fingertips, an outward expression of his inner turmoil. "I could have stopped this from happening and you know it."

"I called, you never showed up!"

"Before that!" he yelled stalking towards her again. "Even though things progressed quickly you had 4, almost 5 months to tell me about her!"

"Seriously?" she questioned back, refusing to be blamed for this part of the situation. "I found out right before Nathan's funeral, which you showed up to cause whatever kind of terror you could do. The next time you show up you admit you thought about torturing me. Then when I finally think I can trust you enough to tell you, you call telling me you just slaughtered a family. Excuse me for wanting to hold off due to your violent mood swings."

"You realize she's probably dead!" he screamed, power rolling off of him from his fury.

"What? No, she's not," retorted Claire confused. "The Carnival was worshiping her. She offers them protection and power; why would they kill her?"

"Are you sure about that?" he asked, not challenging, just verifying. "International Civil Union believed in the sacrifice of our child and that drinking her blood would cause them to ascend. The TriTruth's, their mortal enemy, were calling for her death simply so the International Civil Union could not get their hands on her. The cult seemed to want her organs, whatever the reason. At least the mob boss just wanted to kidnap and sell her for money. What would make you believe the Carnival doesn't have a similar bloodlust the others had?"

"Because Samuel really does want to protect his family, and she can only do that as long as she's alive," she explained through the wave of nausea at this new information. "He made it pretty clear that she was invited into the Family, we were not."

"She has an ability, doesn't she?" Sylar's brow furrowed as he remembered. "That night on the roof with Peter was because of her, wasn't it?"

Claire nodded. "A super powered force field and ability enhancer all wrapped up in a baby package. Part of the reason Samuel wanted her is because she can block other specials from using their powers to locate them. Their own tracker compass won't even work anymore."

"If she can't be detected, how do you plan on finding her?" he asked approaching, finally on the mind track to figure a plan.

"Tracy Strauss has an in. She doesn't quite trust them, especially after I told her what happened. She promised that she would give me a call anytime in the next," she checked her watch, "33 hours to tell me where the Carnival was now."

"And you plan is to show up, cause mayhem, and walk out of there with our daughter," he clarified still coming closer with his eyes growing dark, causing her more stirrings below the waist. "Just like that."

"Just like that," Claire repeated with absolute certainty, clicking the clip into place for the Glock. Giving him a hooded side eye she inquired, "Care to join in my retribution?"

His lips descended on hers and his hand came to push the gun to the table. Without any hesitation she followed his lead, letting go of the weapon and returning the kiss. She clasped onto him as he roughly pulled her head nearer. Playfully she bit at his lip, perhaps a bit harder than was necessary, causing him to growl. He immediately shucked her jacket to better reach under her shirt, digging into the skin that he could get his hands on. As she yanked on his lapel, relishing the almost pain from the pressure of his fingers, Claire could tell this was not going to be gentle; which was exactly what was needed.

Without breaking any contact Sylar sat her up on the table, almost mirroring their actions from months before. Only now there was no shyness involved, no curious exploration. This time they knew each other well, exactly what would drive the other crazy or over the edge. Their tops were quickly removed so they could feel skin against skin. Claire hitched out a gasp at the bulge in his pants bumping right up against her still covered center. Wanting it to stay there she wrapped her legs tightly around him, shifting a few times to gauge his reaction. Sylar groaned deeply against her throat before nipping sharply at the flesh there. She couldn't help the little cry from every bite, nor could she stop the heavy breaths as he continued them down to her breasts.

His mouth attached onto her chest, tongue rolling around the hardening nipple. His hands caressed her sides, the underside of her other breast, her back. She held his head in place looking down to meet his eyes as he continued his actions, her stomach dropping with desire the more they starred. "More," she hissed in request, one he was more than happy to comply. So focused on his face, she didn't notice his hand quickly slip in her pants until he slipped fingers in her folds. The shock from such a pleasure caused Claire to snap her head back as she emitted a struggled high pitched gasp.

"That's the sound I've been waiting for," groaned Sylar, twisting his fingers around inside for a few more moments. She considered coming back with something sarcastic, but the small motions from below and the oral attention he finally paid to her other breast made that impossible.

Her lust hazed brain reached to pull him out of his pants, but found it impossible to do so from the current angle. Whining, Claire tried to reach farther as he chuckled at her need, the vibrations against her chest running straight to her center. "More of you," she gasped out, pushing him back. "I need more of you. Now."

As if he were waiting for those words he immediately pulled her off the table to stand, immediately dipping down for more kisses. "Jeans off," panted Sylar, only taking his lips away enough to give the instruction. Still of blurred mind she managed to slide off the requested garment, noticing him mirroring her actions.

His aroused interest pressed firmly against her stomach, causing her heart to somehow beat more heavily throughout her entire body. Pulling his mouth back by millimeters, his eyes bore into hers, serving only to melt her insides more than they already were. "Are you ready for this?"

Licking her lips, hovering them over his, she replied, "Always." A small squeak escaped her as he twirled her around. Sylar placed both of her hands on the table edge, bending her over slightly. Excited at the unexpected turn of events, she moaned as she more than willingly widened her stance in preparation.

Hands gripped on the wood she braced herself for him to enter her, when suddenly an alarming coherent thought seared through her mind. "Wait! Stop!" she exclaimed, standing up sharply. For a moment he tried to put her back into the position, but stopped when she whirled around to face him. "Wait! Hold on, come with me."

Taking Sylar's hand, she led him to her bedroom. Leaving him at her doorway, she got on her hands and knees to look under the bed. "If this is about your avoidance of doing anything sexual near the table, you only had to ask," he offered with an amused grin, and a head tilt to admire the view.

"No, though that is still true," she admitted grinning right back. Finding what she was looking for, Claire stood up triumphantly holding a foil package in obvious view. "Personally, I'm in no mood to get pregnant again anytime soon."

He asked deadpanned, "You purchased condoms while you were pregnant?"

"No, I didn't," she blushed lightly. "Sweetie, Peter, and Emma each gave me the economy sized boxes. I'm pretty much set for a long time."

Accepting the package, he smirked while arching his eyebrows in a challenging manner. "That's what you think."

While he unwrapped the foil and rolled on its content she crawled onto the bed, wriggling her backside to taunt him. Claire deliberately licked her lips at the intense look he gave her. Tongue not even fully back in her mouth, he jumped into bed behind her, grabbing a hold of her hips. She squealed in delight, slightly tickled whenever his fingers pressed into her stomach.

Following his nudging, she rolled onto her knees propping up on her elbows. By the pressure movements on the mattress, she knew without looking that he kneeled from behind. His fingers made small massage movements against her lower back and hips, rubbing himself against her.

Despite the short break her body remained well prepared, his was also no exception. Though this lasted only seconds, it felt like torturous eternity. Claire's nails clutched at the covers, attempting to push back on her hips for more contact, impatiently waiting for something to happen. Knowing that he enjoyed making her squirm with need, she managed to stave off the desperate moan for awhile longer before giving in.

As soon as the noise escaped her lips, Sylar dove in. The newly reattached pain receptors in her body screamed out just as she did, but that intense sensation quickly mixed with pleasure. Pausing momentarily once he was in all the way, he seemed to observe her initial discomfort. Her eager hip thrusts assuaged any doubt as a rhythm was found between them.

Pressure built continuously inside and Claire dug her face into the pillow to muffle her desperate sounds. Without missing a beat Sylar tugged at her hair causing her head to tilt to the side, the pull sending an agreeable shock through her body. He leaned down against her back so his mouth was right against her ear turning her into mush, hoarsely commanding, "Don't hold back. I want to hear it all."

He pulled out as he sat up, making a displeased noise as he did so. She had just enough time to wonder what he was doing when suddenly she was sat up and whirled around. Now facing Sylar, he positioned her on top so her legs stretched behind him.

Before beginning once more, their eyes locked freezing all motions. For the first time they truly saw each other. Almost not believing he was there, Claire brought a shaky hand up to be certain; lightly trace his brow, his cheek bones, his lips. In turn he cupped the back of her head to where his thumb could still reach her cheek. "I want to see it all," he added, studying her face.

Leaning in to capture his mouth she started to move him inside again. He gripped her hair at the base of her skull to deepen the kiss with his greedy other hand exploring the rest of her body, not that her own hands were behaving any better.

Their tempo sped up and it didn't take long to return to a frantic pace. The sounds of moans and skin on skin filled the air, skin glistened from the work. She arched backwards as he attempted to keep her sitting up. Suddenly walls tore down in her mind as waves of euphoria crashed through, everywhere from her toes to hair ends could feel the thrill.

As her own ending began she felt him swell inside as he groaned deeply, his own body tensing with fingers digging deep enough into her sides to leave temporary bruises. Observing his reaction extended the time of her release. Shivers worked their way up and down her spine as she exhaled contented against his skin, pleased to see it so flushed. Just when things were calming, a sudden rush of emotion attacked her and Claire was left frozen.

"Please don't leave," she whispered, a tear running down her cheek. She was still wrapped tightly around him, shivering as the orgasm lingered. "I'm so sorry for everything, please don't leave me again."

Similarly Sylar still clung onto her, but his motions soon became lazy as he lightly rubbed at her back. He took her with him as he leaned to lie down on his back, tucking her snuggly into his chest. His lips pressed against her hair as she fully relaxed in the embrace. "Try and make me."