Disclaimer: I still own nothing and don't profit from writing this story.

Here we go, the second and last part. It's nothing raunchy, just fluffy vanilla stuff and doesn't go at all above the allowed content for M rating as far as descriptions during the sex goes. But it's definitely NSFW, as relatively tame as it is, considering they actually have sex and all that.

Also I can't imagine these two getting it on without it being at least a little awkward so...

Leaving one hand on her breast, alternating between kneading in the measured way he found made her grunt softly into his mouth and exploring with his fingertips, he let his other hand venture down to undo the button on her jeans and slide the zipper down. There was nothing quite like the sharp intake of breath when his hand ventured inside her underwear and touched her for the first time. An incoherent curse word came out of her mouth between kisses and within seconds her hips were rocking against his hand. Murphy was kissing her neck again, slow and wet, when she pulled away slightly, breathing hard.

"My bedroom is upstairs," she informed him, her voice breathier than he had ever heard it, and Murphy nodded stupidly, dumbstruck by his luck as she took his hand and guided him in the direction of the stairs. This was starting to feel less surreal as the moments wore on, and Murphy was less caught in a perpetual state of wondering whether this was really happening and more completely overwhelmed by how lucky he was to be in this situation. Even more so as Anne led him up the stairs in her bra, her pants unzipped and her hair a mess. Murphy had never seen anyone look more attractive. Their shirts were left forgotten on the kitchen floor and Anne hoisted the door of the room at the end of the hall open with her foot.

After she flipped the light on, Anne's bedroom was something like what Murphy would have expected; small, warm, and simple, with heavy curtains on the windows and thick, comfortable looking blankets on the bed. Outside the window, the rain was falling, hitting the pane and the roof with soft pats. He didn't have much of a chance to look before Anne moved to kiss him again. She kicked the door closed behind them and pushed her hips against his, walking him backwards over to the bed. Murphy was so distracted by the kiss that when the backs of his legs hit the edge of the bed they buckled and he toppled over, taking Anne with him. A hoarse shout issued from his mouth as they bounced off the end of the bed and slid to the floor. At first Murphy was worried he'd hurt her in the fall, but Anne was partially on top of him on the carpet and she was laughing. It was something he'd never heard her do, and he simply sat and stared and marveled at it.

"Sorry," he muttered after a moment, slightly embarrassed. It was even more embarrassing to meet Anne's gaze, but he found her looking amused and not at all irritated. She gave another short laugh at that and shook her head. "I guess that probably wasn't very sexy, was it?"

"I beg to differ," Anne said, amusement still heavy in her tone as she shifted into a sitting position, picked at the rugburn the fall had left on her knee. He could tell she was joking, but somehow it still sent a shiver of heat through him, as did the way she sat up on her haunches and offered him her hand. "Here."

Taking it, Murphy let Anne help him to his feet, giving her a sheepish smile, which she returned, and it occurred to him then that he had never seen her look happy before. She looked happy now, with her eyes glittering with what was probably amusement and dimples at the corners of her mouth. It was amazing to see, after all the hurt he'd seen in that face for so long, and he couldn't help smiling wider at the implications. That after all the things that had happened to her because of him, somehow in this moment with him she'd managed to find a shred of happiness, even for a small while. It was incredible and it scared him a bit with the weight of it. But it was easy to forget anything even remotely resembling coherent thought when Anne reached out and ran a hand down his chest, drawing him back into the things that had been cut short when he stumbled. The look she was giving him… Murphy couldn't recall being on the receiving end of a look like that in years, and any nervousness on his part crumbled. He reached for her, pulling her close, and kissed her.

This time, Anne lowered him to the bed more carefully before she joined him on top of the blankets. Murphy hardly noticed the plush comforter under them, or the glow of the warm light overheard, or anything about his surroundings. All he could really comprehend was her, the way she moved, the way she straddled him carefully, legs spread over his hips as she leaned down to kiss him. There was something almost maddeningly appealing in the way she teased his mouth open with her tongue, the way she closed her hands over his shoulders. He managed to blur out reality to the point that all he was conscious of was what was happening in this bed, though it all seemed too good to be true.

"I've been thinking about this for a while," Anne admitted as she pulled back to lift her bra up over her head, and Murphy's breath caught in his throat from the combination of her words and the sight of her naked from the waist up. It had been so many years since he'd seen a naked woman; he hadn't been with anyone since Carol, and there was quite a long period even before the divorce during which the two hadn't been on quite such friendly terms. He didn't want to think about Carol right now, however, and he quickly shook the thought from his mind. All he wanted to think about was the woman on top of him, who was currently giving him a smile—an expression rather rare on her face—and running her fingertips lazily up and down his chest. For several moments rather than acting Murphy simply stared at her. She didn't seem to mind, and she stared back. Her stare was one he'd slowly gotten used to, but it was still an intense one nevertheless, even now. Though in this sort of situation it wasn't a bad thing.

"Me too," he admitted somewhat sheepishly, hands reaching up to close gently around her hips and then sliding upward, slowly, somewhat tentative as they cupped her breasts. Anne didn't seem like she was expecting it; a hoarse sound escaped from her and it sent a jolt of arousal through Murphy's body that he really wasn't prepared for. Reminding himself not to move too fast, to make this last as long as he could, he caressed her breasts gently, exploring the soft skin there and reveling in the noises she made. As indirect as she'd managed to convince him it was, his involvement in her past pain and misfortune was still there, and it was nothing short of incredible to have the chance to make her feel something good. It was more than that, though, and he knew it. This was not at all born from the desire to make up for his wrongdoings. It was born from desire for her, from the sheer passion that built in the very core of his being for this woman on top of him more and more with each passing second. He'd forgotten it was even possible to feel this way after so many years alone, after so many nights spent in an empty bed. It just further fueled the intensity in his movements, made him have to remind himself to keep his motions in check so he wouldn't get too rough with his hands and make her sore. Reaching for her shoulders he guided her down, bending her forward at the waist so he could replace one of the hands on her breasts with his mouth.

There were things he wanted to say then, but it was all chased away by the sound that she made when his tongue gently caressed where his fingers had just left. All that it came down to then was doing everything he could to make her make that sound again, and she did, when he kept his mouth busy so he could use his hands to push down the zipper on her pants more so he could slip his fingers inside. It was an awkward angle and his wrist cramped before he could touch her, so he took her hips and shifted them upward, giving her the cue to hold herself up so he could maneuver her pants down. They made it to her thighs before she slipped sideways, and Murphy laughed, smiling as he sat up a bit and watched her slide her pants and underwear off herself. Then, she was back on top of him, completely naked and it was almost surreal. It was stunning to think of how different she looked from the day he'd first met her, looking so relaxed, cheeks flushed and hair loose around her face. There was none of that cold, disconcerting hatred left in her eyes now, only an emotion that he was too nervous to put a name to just yet.

"Anne…" he felt compelled to say her name, her first name, as he let one hand slide down between her legs and caress her lightly and experimentally. Her sharp gasp made Murphy's muscles tighten considerably, and he kept it up, searching her face as he did. After several moments her eyes opened and locked with his, and he swore he felt an electric charge in the smolder of her gaze. It had been so long since he'd done this, but it was easy to fall back into the pattern, moving his fingers from on her to in her, pressing where he found it made her jerk the hardest. All the while, he studied her expression, listened to her heavy breaths and the soft sounds she made as she started to jerk her hips. His free hand on her breast, he let himself soak up every moment, from the way her legs on either side of him squeezed him slightly in an almost perfect rhythm to the feeling of her to the way he could feel her hands gripping his shoulders her steady herself on top of him. Murphy was getting completely lost in his ministrations and it caught him off guard when Anne shifted, moving off of him and grabbing hold of the button on his pants, wrestling it open and sliding down the zipper.

"Lift," she said almost commandingly, and he couldn't resist a smile as he raised his hips up so she could struggle with his pants, eventually getting them and his underwear to join her discarded ones on the floor beside the bed. She looked rather satisfied with that done, and then she reached for him and touched him. All at once Murphy completely drew a blank and all he could do was gasp and almost involuntarily shift his hips upward. Anne shifted closer to him and touched him slow, keeping her eyes on his, and Murphy didn't look away. His tendency to shy away from eye contact didn't come into play here, tonight in this bed. It was the opposite, really. He couldn't seem to stop staring into those intense eyes of hers. When Anne shifted closer, Murphy reached out and let his hand slide back between her legs again, and as they touched each other in silence, save for the involuntary sounds that Murphy was starting to love, for these brief moments his life made sense again.

It didn't matter what happened tomorrow morning, or the day after. For now it was easy to live in the moment, to simply lie with Anne in her bed and give her the same things she was giving him, things he'd wanted to give to her for longer than he really cared to admit. After such a long time going without, every sensation felt magnified, far more intense than he'd realized it could be. He was so caught up that when he felt himself starting to tense up he stopped the motion of his fingers, perfectly aware that he couldn't last much longer.

"Anne, I need to…" he wheezed in embarrassingly garbled tones. "I can't hold off anymore. Do you… have any… we need some…" it was difficult to find the words as he reached down, his hand touching her wrist to still hers. "… birth control." It more embarrassing to say than it should have been.

"Taken care of," she assured him in a far more confident and authoritative tone than he himself could ever hope to muster in this position. But then again, he wasn't Anne Cunningham.

"You sure?" he asked feebly, as an extra precaution, and she gave him a look.

"For god's sake, Murphy. Of course I'm sure."

"Right." Feeling rather foolish, Murphy shifted, moving so he could roll her onto her back, and she gave him a little, almost amused smile at his small show of dominance. Hovering over her, Murphy covered her lips with kisses as he guided himself between her legs. She lifted her legs up to meet him, squeezing her thighs around his hips and it instilled within him a kind of certainty, a realization that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He broke the kiss so he could stare into her eyes again as he slid into place. It was worth it to watch her eyes widen and then close, a soft hum ringing in his ears from her throat. Which, of course, was far more refined than his own reaction. He gave a hoarse gasp and squeezed handfuls of the sheets on either side of her head as the virtual explosion of sensation took hold of him and robbed him of far more self control than he even knew he had. Initially it was difficult not to simply buck out of control in what he was sure would have been a massive display of how inconsiderate he could be, and he squashed the urge quickly.

Instead, he started out slow, watching Anne's face as he did. There was something intensely intimate about the eye contact, and he relished it when normally it was something that made him uncomfortable. Anne's breath, which had slowed a bit while they were getting situated, quickly picked up again and it wasn't long before he was squeezing him with her thighs, moving her hips to match his. It all started to blur together then, the finer details evading him. Everything around them seemed to dissolve into nothing, because all he was really aware of was Anne. Her closeness, her presence, the sound and smell and taste of her when he bent his head to kiss her again. All of it was enough to drive him crazy, and his own harsh grunts mingled with the softer sounds she made. The sound of the rain hitting the window near the bed faded in and out of his consciousness, though at one point he was perfectly aware of the sound of the thunder crashing above them.

Somehow, the storm was completely irrelevant. It should have reminded him of the less pleasant time they spent together when there were identical storms raging, but all he could think of was how good all of this felt. This moment and these feelings managed to blot out everything else from his consciousness, from his memory. Anne's hands slid from around his shoulders to the sides of her head, and he placed his on top of them and held them entwined in his as he picked up the pace. He loved the way Anne looked under him, face sweaty and cheeks pink, her eyes glittering and warm and so, so different from when she'd glared at him so long ago. Everything about her exuded warmth and it was incredible the way she was capable of making him feel, when she was kissing him and moving against him, her hands tightening around his.

"Thank you…" Murphy muttered, and immediately felt silly for saying it. It just tore out of his mouth without his real conscious effort, and Anne gave him a curious look and then smiled.

"I'm the one who should be thanking you," her voice sounded breathless, and it made Murphy shiver to hear such passion in the normally professional woman's voice. She was grinding herself hard against him, her hands in his squeezing tighter, and Murphy could almost see her drawing closer to the edge with every moment, every soft gasp. He loved it. Loved every minute of it. Their dual pleasure was more amazing than he could have imagined, feeling this way, being able to make her feel as good as he did. There was a shortage of good things in his life, and he'd realized long ago that Anne was one of the good things he had left. There was a desperate urgency to get her where she was already heading, and he could feel her desperation in every push of their hips together. Breathing hard, Murphy hoisted himself up slightly on his knees and the changing angle of his body made Anne gasp and tighten her fingers around his and he kept pressing onward. She was kissing him hard, the sounds she was making mingling with the crashing of the thunder outside, and Murphy was so consumed with the feeling of her and the taste of her mouth that when she suddenly tightened her grip on him with her hands and legs and broke from the kiss to absolutely lose control in a way that was nothing at all like her usual gathered attitude, it caught Murphy off guard in the most pleasant of ways. The hard moan that was accompanied by the rough jerking of her body made Murphy's throat even drier than it was.

Clinging hard to him, Anne rocked with him for a bit longer before her body finally relaxed and she came back down, breath hot against his ear as she moved her hands, placing them against his chest and giving him a push. Murphy wasn't sure what she was doing, but he went along with her as she moved, flipping the two of them over and ending up on top of him. Reaching for his hands again, she leaned down to kiss him and then straightened up, taking control of the situation in a way that was so unbearably appealing that Murphy could in all honestly barely even see straight.

"Anne…" he gasped for the second time that night, watching her as she moved above him, rocking against him. Her hair was in her face and the sight of her there, the impassioned quality to her motions, was almost more than Murphy could take. With her face and body lit by the flashes of lightning outside the window, there was something almost unearthly about her. She moved faster, and Murphy could almost not comprehend the things she was making him feel. Every muscle in his body was tense as he focused on her, on the crashing wave of sensation and the line of madness that they seemed to be toeing before his body gave in and with a hoarse shout he squeezed her hands, torso lifting slightly up off the bed. For a moment the world was spinning and when it righted itself there was Anne, still on top of him, still moving, with her body bright and in sharp relief from another blast of lightning outside.

As Murphy slowly relaxed back down onto the bed, he reached for Anne, pulling her down so he could wrap his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Wow…" was all he could really say, and he felt he had no business saying anything else right now. Not when she was still on top of him, leaning down so he could embrace her. He was aware of how sweaty their skin was now, when it was pressed together, starting to cool in the air of the bedroom.

"We really should have done that sooner," was Anne's response, and her lips brushed his cheek before she straightened back up, pulling her body away from his and rolling onto the bed beside him. Murphy missed the contact, but was almost immediately placated when she draped an arm across his chest. Looking sideways, he took in the sight of her messy hair and sweaty face, and it was endearing. Murphy was sure he didn't look much more refined. There was really no way to look elegant after sex, but he couldn't say he minded. He enjoyed that concrete, visible evidence of their lovemaking that existed even now, after it was over.

"Maybe we could do it again," he replied rather boldly, and was immediately apprehensive and wondered if he should have kept his mouth shut. But Anne responded by kissing his sweaty temple, and he was immediately able to forget such worries.

"If we didn't I'd be pretty damn disappointed." She was as earnest as ever, and it was a quality Murphy found he was starting to appreciate more and more as time passed knowing her. It reminded him of her father, in a way, but he didn't want to bring up Frank now, tonight. Not after the things that had happened earlier that day. So instead he just gave an affirmative grunt in response, and was rewarded with a soft, surprisingly chaste kiss on the lips. "Stay tonight?" she asked, and Murphy would be a liar if he said his chest and stomach didn't do a simultaneous little jolt.

"Sure," was all he was able to muster when she was rolling closer to pull him into her arms, and there was a moment when it occurred to him that this was all real. He'd resolved much earlier in the night that if this turned out to be a one night stand or if these rapidly intensifying feelings for her weren't returned, he'd be okay with that as long as he got to share this night with her. But the way she sighed when he rolled over onto his side to return her embrace, the way she nestled her forehead against his and just stared at him, made it increasingly obvious that he wasn't the only one. There was a solace in that, a warmth that started in his toes and slowly rose to fill his entire body at the thought, a warmth that did its part to dash the loneliness he'd been sharing his life with for so long.

"Do you want to… I don't know. Get coffee sometime? Or whatever it is people do. I've been out of the dating life a while," Anne said after several moments of pleasantly heavy silence, taking Murphy by surprise. He was reminded by that comment that she was also divorced, and having that in common was rather depressing, but at least he didn't have to try to justify a failed marriage to her. Then again, there was very little he had to justify to her. Anne was fundamentally nonjudgmental when it came down to it, and in more ways than one he was becoming increasingly sure that she understood him. It was more than he could say for anyone in years.

"Do you even like coffee?" was his stupid, instinctive response, and she made an impatient noise low in her throat.

"Who doesn't like coffee?"

"I'm sure there're people who—"

"I think the words you were looking for were 'yes, Officer Cunningham, I'd like to get a damn coffee with you and stop overanalyzing your feelings.' In case you needed the help."

"Appreciate the help. But I think I prefer Anne," Murphy replied, giving her a quick kiss.

"Alright then. 'Yes, Anne, I'd like to get a damn coffee with you and stop overanalyzing your feelings.'"

"That sounds like something I'd say," Murphy was unable to stop the ridiculous grin that made its way over his face. "Coffee, tea, I don't care. As long as I get to spend time with you." He was sure it sounded sappy and he was mildly embarrassed about saying it at all until he saw the look on Anne's face. He'd never seen her look quite so soft and so emotional, and it gave his heart a jolt.

"I'm falling for you pretty damn fast," she told him bluntly, an edge of intensity in her tone. "I just thought you should know."

Murphy was completely taken aback by actually hearing the things he'd suspected and hoped for out loud, and for a moment all he could do was stare at her, and make several uncoordinated attempts to respond. "Well I uh… I'm fine with that," he responded jokingly, before he realized that joking to make light of the intensity of his emotional response was probably not the best way to go about this. "You're not the only one," he whispered, one hand moving to gently trail through her messy hair. "No one's made me feel like this in… a long time." He didn't bring up Carol, didn't bring up anything. All he wanted to do was lie here with her and soak up the closeness and the returned feelings and wonder if he was falling in love with her too fast. But it occurred to him that there was probably no such thing as too fast in this regard. For now, nothing else mattered. Not what had happened today with Sewell, not their precarious situation as a correctional officer and an escaped convict. When it came down to it, when those roles were stripped away, they were just people, and it had taken Murphy long enough to realize Anne was the person he wanted to be with as it was. Now it seemed irrelevant.

As he lay and held this person who'd been willing to grant him forgiveness when he hadn't felt he deserved it, who'd managed to give him back that sense of being human and being wanted that he'd thought he'd lost, the world seemed to make sense. They fell asleep that way, though they were sweaty and he was sure one of her arms must be falling asleep just as intensely as his was. It didn't matter. Keeping her close, in more than one sense, took priority over other things.

Sometime late that night he was dimly aware of the fact that the rain had finally stopped falling.

End.