To Find Something Much Sweeter
Gaius and Panne

Gaius stretched until every joint from his right hand to his lower back popped, arching like a cat and covering as much ground on the green hill as could be humanly possible. "Gods, the sunset's amazing."

"Indeed," Panne responded, sitting tight and cross-legged as he lolled about on the grass. She added, staring up at the clouds, ears twitching, "You'll ruin your cloak rolling about like you are."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you concerned for my cloak?"

"Perhaps I wish you to sit still?" she proposed, lacing her fingers and leaning a shoulder on the tree beside her. She gazed evenly at the top of his head until he finally looked up.

"Sit still, Whiskers? When I have this much energy? I'll die."

"Foolish. You will not," she said evenly. She reached out a hand to touch his hair, then curled them around his tie. He frowned, but let her pull it off until it was bundled in her hands.

Gaius rolled over so he was on his stomach, head propped on a fist, hair mussed. She smiled.

"You look cleaner without it."

He seemed vaguely affronted. "I've cleaned up quite a bit lately ever since Cordelia's gotten on my case."

She twisted his tie in her hands absently. "Oh, I know. I have noticed."

There was silence while Gaius looked her up and down, perplexed by her absence in thought. "You okay, Panne?"

Panne let out a dreadfully long sigh and laid herself down next to him until their faces were close enough for her to see the gold in his green eyes. "How much do you love me, human?"

His eyes widened perceptibly, pupils dilating, then contracting. "What's the meaning of this?" he said seriously, voice low. He couldn't possibly know how wonderful that possessive growl sounded to her.

She tried to keep her face vastly unchanging from its sullenness, for previously, she was sullen indeed. "Is it not customary, when two humans love each other, that they mate?"

It was then that he grinned. "We are mates, Whiskers. But if it's sex you mean, that's a whole other thing entirely."

"Is it?"

Upside-down in comparison, he leaned in and kissed her. His lips tasted like sugar, honey, and green things– like the air he breathed. It was wonderful. Nothing remotely appalling in it. He was no longer just a human to her, he was hers. He was her mate.

What scent that had repulsed her before in its human-ness no longer was something she noticed. He had a very unique smell. That of ripe fruit, steel, and caramelized sugar.

"Is that what you want, honey?"

"I do not wish for honey, Gaius."

He grinned, eyes crinkling just a little. "It's a pet name."

She frowned. "I am not your pet."

And then he laughed, turning away from her, and she longed for his closeness again as soon as he had– as much as his laughter pleased her ears. "No, you are my dear, sweet, wonderful Panne. You are my love. You are my honey."

"Oh."

He turned back towards her, his breath warm and pleasant. "Yes, oh," he said, and took one hand, laying it on her cheek. She leaned into his touch, and his smile grew wistful.

She was warm and soft. Her eyes had long ago softened with her features– halfway through the bloody war. When she had married him, everything was still new. But suddenly, he felt nearly ashamed. She didn't know how much he wanted her. Before, all she knew was that he had her. What else could he need?

Of course, that was a silly question to him, but the softening of her eyes had come with time. She perhaps loved him for how open he was… but this… This was something he had wanted her to find, as much as it drove him insane.

The desire almost took the joy out of sugar, and that was serious.

"But you were saying?" he continued softly, running a rough thumb across one of the lines of her cheek.

His hands were clean and smelling of barley and soap. It was nice, she decided. He smelled tons better when he was clean.

"Sex, you called it?"

His expression turned serious, his pupils becoming abnormally large again. "Yes?"

"Is that not how our son was conceived?"

Gaius could not seem to help it for long. He smiled. "Yes."

She let a sort of confusion come across her features. Her head tilted in and he watched her closely as her ears moved with curiosity. She blinked once, then again, drawing her hand away from the knot of a tie she had made and wandering to his ginger hair. "It is a mystery to me. Is it simply to create offspring, or is it for pleasure? No one can give me a straight answer."

A moment passed as he tried to find words for a specific part of his answer that he wished to get right. He let her fingers run through his hair, closing his eyes because it felt good. "It's both, Panne. It is… it can be… a very fun thing."

Her fingers tensed and he opened his eyes quickly. Somehow, that must have sounded wrong. Her eyes had narrowed. "Have you experienced this… fun before?"

His grin did not put her at ease. "Gods no, Panne. I'm a virgin. Doesn't stop people from talking about it, though– or from me asking."

His words did put her at ease. She relaxed again, tucking her legs up a little. "Continue."

When he laughed, it was short and almost gutless. "I can't, Whiskers. I can tell you– it's fun. It's… something people do when they are in love… but I can't tell you much more."

He knew his words confused her, but she seemed to get the point. "I must experience it, then."

"We," he said, grinning, giving a sigh of relief. "You're doing it with me. Got that, Whiskers?"

"Yes."

He leaned in to kiss her again, but she drew away, gazing at him very seriously. That always got him feeling a little warm. "Now?"

For a moment, he seemed completely baffled. "Now as in… you want it now, or you thought I wanted it now and you were telling me that it was rather inappropriate?"

"I am impatient."

His breath hitched momentarily and he swallowed. "Okay." He lifted himself to his elbows. "In your tent or– or mine?"

The fact that he was so completely flustered by being caught off-guard amused her immensely. "Will they hear us?"

He blushed completely crimson. "I'd like to think they wouldn't, but I'd better say yes."

She picked herself up after he did, and handed him his tie. As he took it, she caught the wrap of his cloak and kissed him, relishing the sweetness. He moved quickly, as she knew he could in battle. He stowed his scarf in his pocket, then with a strength and determination she enjoyed thoroughly, picked her up and said. "My tent."