A/N: Well, we're at the finale. I hope I've written Adam well, I hope you've enjoyed the story, and that, whether you celebrate or not, that the rest of the year is a peaceful, happy time for you. I want to thank all of you for the support, fan love and respect for this story. I know it isn't everyone's cup of tea, but I've had nothing but kindness. It means a lot to know people read/actually enjoy my version of fan art. :)

Et Quod Post Vitam

Grace took off her coat, entering Adam's apartment code, manoeuvring through the door with a pet carrier in hand. She draped her jacket over the couch, putting the carrier beside it, on the floor.

"You know, you look exactly like your Dad when you smile"...

Adam's voice came from his bedroom. He huffed afterwards, as if he were picking up something heavy...

Grace's answer came when the man walked in, holding Freud, the canine barking loudly upon seeing his owner. She beamed.

"Hello Freud!" The fact the pup was now a tad chubby had her entertained. "Er, Adam?"

The way the woman said his name made Adam squint, as if he were about to be berated.

"Why is he fat? Don't get me wrong, nothing wrong with extra weight, I love him all the same".

Adam shifted to bemused.

"Good. So, I can get fat then?"

Freud was put onto the couch, Grace tickling behind his ears as she sat next to him.

"Is that an excuse to eat terrible, additive filled, addictive foods? I am 100% okay with this". She peered at a box of mini marshmallows. "I shouldn't, but, fuck it, I would like a sugar fix. But, oh no!" Grace fabricated distress. "I've already sat down!" She sighed. "Whatever shall I do?"

Adam rolled his eyes exultantly.

"The point being"...he started, pliable smile colouring features, his eyes holding substance, "you want those".

It wasn't a question, though Grace answered it.

"Yes". She sat back, looking up at her companion. His gaze coated her insides with igneous conflagrant. She attempted sucking in breath, holding it inexplicably, reason being kissed. This one felt different, secure. Adam was secure, he'd given her the code to his home, his shelter. No matter her reluctance, her profession telling her to move away, the woman, the romantic inside kissed him, scrunching couch fabric, in order to keep herself from turning, swinging her legs around, getting onto her knees, moving further beyond.

Freud's paws on her knee yanked her from the moment. Adam saw the pup, both males content.

He left to the kitchen, leaving Grace shaking her head.

What was that?

She felt her cheeks flare, her environment tuned out, all focus trained on Adam...

Treats put into a small bowl, Grace curled digits, wanting to grab a handful, as one would popcorn. No one ate marshmallows one by one...

"Civilised, Grace". She took a few, studying the sweet, wondering what E number made them so pink..."And, yes. When I smile, I do, indeed look like my Father. Wait". She popped the treats into her mouth, chewing methodically. "You like me"...

"Bold". Adam smirked. Grace returned it.

"And I look like my Dad. That mean you'd prefer him over me?" She held up her hands. "Hey, no judgement there. I'd rather people be their true, authentic selves".

Adam's ballsy smirk deepened.

"Eh, he's alright. I prefer his daughter".

"Bold". She retorted. "What was that before? You've no need to prove that to me".

"I won't kiss you again, then".

Grace's face turned stern.

"Exchanging pleasantries was rather pleasant. We can stop, however. I came here to take Freud off your hands".

"Off my knee, but go on".

Adam's ilk went reserved.

"I don't want to just leave with him. There's a reason I came here. I could have called a company to do this. Wouldn't have returned here, fed you affection, only to sod off". She cleared her throat. "Ask me to stay, I will. Tell me to leave, and I will".

She looked at her hands, determinedly forcing her head up, keeping hazels on green.

Freud was jostled off, onto a cushion, whines pining. Grace, this time initiated contact, reaching for Adam's hand. He took it, the two using it as leverage, his to pull, hers letting herself be pulled.

Intimidation evaporated, the woman planted her lips on Adam's, the man returning tenderness, ardour shining through.

More than humbled that Adam was giving her his heart, wearing it on his sleeve, Grace cocooned it, she was his escutcheon here.

She pulled away, resting her head on his shoulder.

"You're sure then".

They laughed, Adam tilting her head slowly to face his. Facial touches from the man were superior to intimacy. Grace dared not breathe, the moment was theirs, her breath could disrupt whist rapture.

Adam's nod grew withheld breath, letting it out was exhaling steam.

"Okay", the brunette acceded, "I'll go get ready".

Grace touched her forehead to his. Standing, she headed into the bathroom, apprehension mix with harmony.

The woman stripped all but her underwear, one of Adam's many black t-shirts slipped on. Catching sight of herself in the mirror brought forth snickers, the shirt more like a dress on her. A little too short a dress (if she was at an event and had to bend, attendees would get quite the view), but the only one seeing her held no disquiet, alarm.

Her slightly mussed up hair was combed through, fingers in place of a brush. She hadn't thought to bring one, only her toothbrush, which was in the room where Adam was...

No matter. She put a hand to her mouth, breathing on it. I smell of childhood sweeties...

That brought her back to the present immediately.

With a hint of bourbon, from the truffles Dad bought me...

That sounded adult, adult Grace preventing child Grace from sprinting, skidding latter to a halt as former shot past her.

Picking up her clothes, folding them neatly, placing them onto the shelf, clarity tugged at her.

Adam let her control the kiss, control herself being pulled into him. If she wanted to let go, his grip wasn't tight. She could have easily separated herself, had she not wanted to go further, venture closer.

He wanted contact, but on her terms.

She wanted contact on both, but understood where he was coming from. It'd had been years for both, but his body took on a different form than hers. Flesh and bone versus flesh, bone, metal and augments? The woman desperately wanted him to know she didn't mind nor care about the latter two. What lay inside was what drew her to him. Of course, his exterior wasn't too hard to look at.

If she squinted...

Her body wasn't arguing either, following the vein her mind shot straight between her legs.

In a way, this was bizarre. Her, standing in a bathroom, hand making its way across her body, onto spots she wasn't quite sure if it would do anything for her. She quickly worked out they did, when in the right mood.

Still, she kept as quiet as possible. She knew Adam knew, he had been with women before, knew what they did, as did he, to assist themselves.

It wasn't a good idea to imagine Adam was the one doing that. It wasn't a good one at all. That idea spurred her on, till she was no longer prowling, she was stalking feeling, civility well and truly fucked.

Grace vaguely recalled hearing Adam getting up at some point. She gave him personal space, remaining in the bathroom. Whilst she knew what would happen, the woman was aware that her companion may not want her seeing him intimately. That was the reason she left on her underwear, throwing on a shirt so most of her was covered.

Thank small mercies for being small...

She snorted, eyes finding toilet roll. Cleaning up would undo some of what she'd accomplished, amazingly quickly, by her standards.

Must have needed that...

She bet Adam did too. Not quite the credit chit gambler, she'd bet via interactions.

Bet him a kiss?

Her Father wouldn't be proud...

Fuck. The woman's mind teetered, an imaginary seesaw between Gregory and Adam.

Okay. Its been FAR too long if my mind can't focus on Adam for more than...actually...how long have I been in here?

She popped her head out of the bathroom door. It had been twenty minutes, she deduced. Adam wasn't in the room, as she'd first thought.

"Can I come out now? Everything okay?"

Adam's low grunt made her unease ease, levels of need beginning to rear their head again.

Grace took a breath, making her way towards the bedroom, hands linked as she sat on the bed. The sheet was bunched around Adam's waist, she could see up until a line, which she presumed was boxers, following a trail of hair upwards, to the man's face. She tilted her head eminently, giving him the 'eye'.

"If that's your attempt at come on's, I suggest a different tack".

Grace smirked.

"It'll be different, alright".

Assuring themselves, Grace moved down, her elbows on Adam's chest, hands on his face.

"Better?"

She didn't give the man a chance to answer...

Adam shoved a fist in the bedside drawer, pulling out a few condoms. Grace sat up.

"I'm on the pill, but I'm okay with using those, if you want too".

Adam stated the truth flatly.

"Its better without, didn't want to assume though. I'd wear one anyway".

Grace asked a silly question she didn't need to voice.

"Do you want to wear one?"

"No".

Gruff, to the point. She laughed.

"Thought not"...

Forehead scrunches, slight twitches, Grace found she grew fond of these. She had the privilege of watching, feeling with Adam.

His eyes? Not intense. They were curious, eagerly taking in the sight of her. Most, being fully dressed wouldn't find it as interesting, not as much skin on show, purchase being fabric. However, both were in the moment, especially Grace. Adam's hands were on her hips, keeping her steady. For this, she was grateful, as emotion welled, threatening to spill over lashes into the creases of her eyes, sloping down her cheeks, onto the sheets below. They were not tears of upset, they were relief, some humour there too, lingering, this moment not too serious, for fear it would tip one of them onto the floor, with a thud...

Adam felt a coil, a knotted snake pressing against his spine, its pulse heating his skin, breathing up the ridges. The muscles of his stomach jumped, grabbing Grace's attention. She placed her hands just above his hips, kneading slowly. This relaxed the twitching, working in her favour too, angle changing. Seeing her, working him out like a puzzle charmed him, body very much agreeing with his mind.

Still, he didn't quite like being read as effortlessly as Grace managed, thumbing volumes as if they were novels, not single page pieces.

If the knot pulled any tighter? He had to tell her, warn her, his brain switching to primal. If he took control, claimed her hips, he could bruise her, finger prints purple reminders of his lack of restraint.

Grace saw the signs, spotted them in the nick of time, doubling her efforts, shifting her hips again, taking Adam's hands, squeezing them.

Feeling was something the agent wasn't sure he could do anymore, was unsure if he was even allowed to.

Her controlled sounds became unsteady breaths, unrestricted, and god, did Adam want to hear her...

Grace cleared up in the bathroom, leaning on the counter afterwards. This thing between her and Adam? It exceeded words, varied vocabulary failing her. Her increased pulse, rhythmic, gleeful mood, and totally relaxed body? It was, so much so, she didn't wish to move, doing so making her swear, the pair too chipper to frown...

Once finished, she returned to the bedroom, hands wandering up her shirt, finding the clasp of her bra.

"Can't sleep with one on".

She extricated it from herself, fairly gracefully, folding the cups, placing it onto a chair.

"Uh. Mind if I join you?"

Her partner was confused. Grace clarified.

"I was on the bed, not in it". She ruffled her hair, holding her elbow awkwardly at her side. "Just wasn't sure if you are as soft as I am".

Her answer was the man sitting up, offering arms. Grace walked back on over, plopping down into the sheets, moving them around her legs, and cuddling into Adam's side. Out of reflex, she placed her ear on his heart, its melody relaxing, in sync with hers.

This? This was good, this felt wholly right, entirely their moment.

And her wanting to sigh would ruin the moment, likely tickle the agent's chest. It was out of relief, the sigh, nothing of the adverse persuasion.

Adam's hand combing through her hair was far, far better than her own...

The next few days, Grace stayed in Adam's apartment, considering selling her own a few points in time. The same routine of coffee, breakfast, in general laziness never felt better. She potted about the kitchen, one of Adam's t-shirts and boy shorts on. Upon hearing Adam leaving the bathroom, Grace held out a fresh mug of coffee. Adam took it, but put it aside, holding her close. Taking her hands, he placed them under his shirt. Twitching fingers, nervousness fluttering, fingers skittered across his collarbone, occasionally touching a nodule. Grace kept her gaze on the floor, keeping the man's reactions a mystery.

In response, the woman shifted his hands from her hips, under her, his shirt, shiver reverberating through the pair, cool fingers finding her spine. Grace arching into Adam had him sigh, the two finding each other's curves, dimples, dips, grooves between bones.

Adam's skin was warm, hot water bottle, electricity wove through Grace's fingertips, finding their way to her heart. Under his pectorals felt harder than around it. Moving, skirting over thrumming heart, threading through short hairs, grazing nails over his ribs lightly, subconsciously counting, subsequently fawning as his muscles twitched, the woman locating a ticklish spot.

She did not take advantage of this.

His back was trim, shoulder blades not too prominent, the tops of his arms fusion augment and skin. If anything, they intrigued the woman, their functioning exactly as flesh and bone limbs a marvel of science.

Lingering on hipbones, she paused, letting Adam map out her body.

Slight ridges on the pads of his fingers were a pleasant surprise, raising fine hairs, scratching in the way it felt when you located an itch you really needed to get at. Grace's skin was supple, sensitive, her pulse a hum in his mind, he an intrepid explorer. Finding her spine, Adam was riveted how she reacted, body glued to his. Trepidation found him, one set of digits tracing invisible patterns towards her sternum, the others moving up...

That's when Grace wriggled, moaning deftly. She looked at Adam quizzically, shrewdness hinting through.

"I was waiting for you". She gestured southward with her eyes. "Don't act like you don't know where my hands are". To add to her point, she hooked a finger around his boxers. "I'm good, bit of help wouldn't go amiss"...

Her less than subtle indication of her predicament gave fuel to the fire, Adam's deviousness brought to life. He held a poker, Grace holding coal, occasionally throwing a piece in the hearth. The man poking the lumps entertained his lover no end...

She waved a hand.

"Zoning out on me? Am I that bad?" She questioned. "Christ. I know its been a while, but, I thought I'd withheld some skill"...

Adam kept her eyes, utilising a whisper he'd realised Grace melted at...

"I'll let you know".

Grace held reverence, Adam's guard lowered for her. She cared, but was unable to vocalise it.

She chose to show him.

She whispered in return, attempting 'sexy'.

"Too bloody right"...

"You know, I prefer you like this". She gestured at his chest, shy smile gracing her features. "Seeing you is heart warming, humbling".

Lying on the couch, on Adam's chest specifically, other than the angle causing a crick in her neck was delightful.

"I don't get naked for just anyone"...

Grace snorted.

"Compliment? I'll take it". She nuzzled him, imprecating obvious predilection. "Neither do I. Too bloody nippy. May well lose said nips if I paraded around naked".

"In your apartment? Yeah. In ours?"

The brunette sat up, mouth agape, jaw having to work harder than usual.

"Huh? Do my ears deceive me?"

Her fellow brunette confirmed no auditory mishaps.

"We're busy, we work long hours, we don't see each other often. When we do? Its five minutes tops, and I don't do quickies. Fuck all point to them".

The woman expelled air.

"Five minutes is fine, I'll have you know. Doesn't need to be hours. Hours would hurt"...she grimaced, "hence 'help needed'. Its a requirement, not a given".

She pondered.

"I wasn't selfish, was I?"

Taken aback, Adam kissed her forehead, lifting up his chin, Grace's head neatly slotting into the groove of his neck.

"We did our fair share". She amended. "Should we clean up?"

"Probably".

"Squeegee?"

The woman shirked that idea.

"Mop?"

That wasn't applicable either.

"I don't want to move".

Adam affirmed.

"Wasn't planning on moving, so, you're stuck".

Grace huffed, sassy.

"Thus, I cannot move, therefore domestic duties can wait, lest it start a domestic"...

Adam groaned.

"You are insufferable".

Grace retorted, painting diagonal lines on his abdomen, index finger pressing timidly.

"And you are a bloody handsome chap".

The man wasn't expecting that as witty repartee...

"I am not letting go".

Acknowledging exchanged amiable looks, Grace smiled.

"As long as you want my strange self, I'm here".

Adam's stomach jumped, mind giving the green light.

"That mean you're staying?"

"I have to hire a removal company, and retrieve some clothing. Why do you think your shirts are going missing, or the washer is full of black clothing? My underwear can only be changed so much, when you have three pairs, have lost one, and I think another pair is under the damn couch...". She gestured down. "Scan it, pretty please?"

Adam closed his eyes.

"I'm not scanning the floor, not after...earlier".

"Oh, yeah. Huh. Really need to sort that out"...

Adam kept his arms around her, tightening them.

"That involves moving".

"I'm averse to motion".

"Already?" Sarcasm shone through. "Upping my game, as we speak"...

Grace's tone took on bashful.

"Could always scan me. You can hack things, unlock locks, pretty sure you'd manage, with little old me..."

Her lover smacked his forehead.

"Oh god".

"Once things are settled", Grace kissed Adam's cheek, "I shall be moving in". She held back what she truly wished to say, pulling a face. "Can I use the word?"

Adam refused to tease lifted tension off the woman's shoulders.

"I", she began, "I find myself smitten".

She bottled it...

Adam responded, long, slow kissing following words of tenderness, cuddling, smooth metal easing knots in tatty brunette locks. Saying a word laden with emotion was challenging for both, more so Adam. Anyone he loved he'd lost, somewhere in the gloom, the truth taking the form of a spear of light, ramming its meaning into his head, blinding him.

That meant he would see the truth, for all it was worth.

It wasn't like he had a choice here.

Grace gave him a choice, as he did her.

They chose to be there, together.

Freedom remained a challenge, but Grace joined him in the fight. He was forever appreciative for her arms, his support when he stumbled, scaffold built high. Creating forts was for children, pillows remaining in his bedroom.

Grace remained with him, staying, no matter if the mood turned sour, room dour, solemn silence in place of answers.

Silence was an answer for Grace, applicable, Adam's appreciation for that vast...

Adam's silence told Grace more than if he'd spoken. When he fell quiet, lack of display externally made her aware that it was internal. What he felt was kept inside, locked behind iron doors. He handed her the key the first time they found solace in one another.

She held it in her palm metaphorically, thoughts on whether or not to use it.

If Adam allowed it, why not?

Him allowing it spoke volumes Grace was all too ready and willing to read.

She used the key, bringing forth feelings, spilling out as radiant streaks of light, fireworks alight.

She set into motion this 'thing', and what a thing it was.

What a thing they were, indeed...