Author's Note: I'm very sorry for the wait, especially since so many of you were kind enough to leave reviews on this fic (thank you!) But I sort of got distracted by other things… And lost interest in the lame characterization of LaSalle in the canon. But I simply shall continue to write him as the awesome character that was established in season one that I loved.

So the final installment to this little (primarily smutty) fic… enjoy!

Chris LaSalle filled her in a way no one else ever had. And she didn't mean size-wise. Although, he seemed to be just right in that regard as well, just big enough to give her that wonderful-uncomfortable stretching sensation as he sank his flesh into hers.

No, it was more than just his lean, fit body that she'd been pining for. That void, that hollow place left behind when she'd pushed him away, it could only be filled by him, all of him. His personality, the way he looked at her and touched her, the vibrancy of him.

Merri had never thought in a million years that someone like Chris would be the one to make her feel whole. Not that she'd felt like less than a complete person before him. It was just now that she'd met him, grown close to him, been with him, part of her was empty when they weren't together, when they weren't like this, naked and tangled up in one another. But she also felt the loss when they weren't playfully teasing one another, missed sitting beside him on the couch in a comfortable silence, missed sharing a meal or a joke. She needed him. She loved him.

She'd always thought she'd had a type, a more 'sophisticated' type. But men like that, they'd never made her happy, had they? And Chris LaSalle only seemed simple or 'common' upon the first glance. There was a duality to the man, with his darker side, keeping secrets and certain parts of his past buried deep down, just like Merri herself did. And yet there was this endearing innocence to the man, a childlike love of life and fun. It bespoke an honest, affectionate heart. Doubtless, it was the only thing that had allowed him to survive all the pain he'd seen.

He was honest and raw.

And never more-so than when making love to her. The way he stared into her eyes with his deep blue ones. The way he didn't hold back any of his thoughts, feelings or reactions. It was rather amusing how his accent grew incomprehensibly thick as he muttered a string of increasingly bizarre profanities and pleas. Whether they were meant to encourage her, or if he even realized what he was saying, she didn't know. She only knew that she liked the way he seemed to lose control when she-

Chris groaned loudly, collapsing on her when his arms gave out. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his shoulders and held him, laughing a little.

"Dang it woman, why're ya so fuckin' hell-bent on undoin' me 'efore I ken get ya off?"

She kissed the side of his neck, laughing against his sweaty skin. He'd worked himself up into a good lather with all of their teasing foreplay and wrestling for dominance in the encounter. But she wasn't going to lie. She loved the playful side of the man as much as his intensity in the sack.

"Just testing your self control."

He pushed himself up, shifting his weight but she tightened the grip of her legs on his waist, preventing him from trying to resume his rhythmic thrusts. He growled her name, sending a wave of pleasure along her spine. She shouldn't love torturing him like this, but drawing out the buildup to his climax... Fuck, how it increased her own arousal.

"S'not a very good test a' my self control if yer the one controllin' it." He stared down at her with his beautiful blue eyes, all dark cobalt and black dilated pupils. And she was relieved she hadn't genuinely pissed him off. In fact, he had that stupid-happy grin on his face. He was enjoying this as much as she was, the testing one another, figuring each other out, working out how their relationship would be.

She relented, relaxing her muscles and the grip she had on him, inside and out. He leaned in as if to kiss her, but instead rested his forehead against hers, chuckling lightly.

"Dang it woman if ya ain't the most frustratin', sexy an' fun woman I ever been wi'."

He kissed her with his tongue. There was a thing he did that she couldn't exactly figure out the mechanics or physiology of it, but damn. She moaned into his mouth, her entire body responding to the kiss, her hips thrusting upward to take more of him inside of her. He pushed her back down onto the mattress, pulling away to hover over her, grinning smugly at her, raising a presumptive eyebrow.

"I like you, too, Chris." She rolled her eyes as if the admission were a burden.

Mm, yes. He settled his weight back onto her. Did he know how much she enjoyed the feel of him on top of her, as well as inside of her, all over her?

He must, because he propped himself up only enough to look down into her eyes with his pretty blue ones. There was such a depth to them, she could read his happy, playful attitude, but also something serious and intense residing in the ocean of blue.

"Jus' like?" he asked, his voice soft, uncertain in a way she'd never heard him be before.

He had to ask?

Oh, god. He had to ask! He didn't know!

She thought it'd been as clear as day in the way she couldn't stop looking at him, the way she knew she lit up whenever he was around, the way she'd tried to avoid him entirely to protect her stupid heart (and his).

"I like you more than anyone else I've ever met," she said, taking his face in her hands. "I like you more than people I've loved, Chris LaSalle."

He broke out into his broadest grin, growling "Good" before resuming kissing her and attempting to pound her into the mattress.

Good was an understatement.

Good. Oh, so good. So fuckin' good.

"Oh, sweet baby jesus," he gasped, digging his fingers into the flesh of her full ass as she thrust her hips spastically upward, her back arching off the mattress and her head thrown back. The contortion of her body presented her breasts and the flawless skin of elegant throat in an image akin to artwork. Only Chris didn't have much of a mind to appreciate the view as pleasure tore through him, making him damn near black out as he climaxed.

Breathless, he somehow managed not to collapse on top of Merri but sprawled his limp, trembling body on the bed beside her. Dear lord, she sucked him dry every time. It felt like his bones had liquefied. And he could only exist as a quivering pile of goo. It was rather a blissful existence, actually. Listening to Merri's soft moans of pleasure as she rode the aftershocks of her orgasm, a distant sort of noise overwhelmed by the thundering of his heart in his chest.

It was easy to lose himself in her. Her body was pleasure incarnate. And the soul that inhabited it was more than appealing. It was seductive, how well she fit him. In every respect. Physically -oh, man- she was just... amazing. He couldn't even describe how it felt to be with her, inside of her, the way her body responded to his, electrified his. It was like they fed off one another's building pleasure in a loop that spiraled them higher and higher.

And if the sex wasn't enough. There was everything else about her, the way her personality complemented his own, how she knew how to pause, take a step back when he only reacted viscerally. How she calmed him in such circumstances. Or how he did the same for her on the rare ocassions when a case, or an event in personal life become too much. She seemed reserved, but she wasn't a prude. She just took a while to trust (a wise thing). But once she did let loose, she was an immense amount of fun. Yet still level headed enough to be slightly more sober when he had a little too much fun. She watched him with as much curiosity and genuine interest when he stood on the side of crick and cast a lure into the depths of the water as he did when she tore through the entire book of crossword puzzles he'd given her.

They weren't the same.

And it made things so much more interesting. Honestly, he loved when she got a little tiffed at him, her lips pressing together in disapproval, that little line forming between her brows. Her big brown eyes evaluating him, whether he could seriously be so stupid. If he really got her worked up, her whole body tensed, sorta like the moment before she climaxed with his name on her lips. So yeah, it kind of turned him on. Almost as much as pulling her languid, warm soft body to his as she basked in the afterglow of orgasm.

She moaned softly, long and low against his neck as her weight settled partly on top of him, partly against his side. She threw one of her long slender legs over his, and the wet heat of her core pressed sticky and warm to his hip. He himself was soaked in sweat, and thought that as soon as they were capable of standing on legs gone rubbery, they'd need a shower.

Just a few minutes of this first, please.

Merri could be so open with him that he knew no one else would believe if he told them. Hell, it still surprised him. Even after the secret she'd revealed, that initial damage to her heart. She was nuzzling his throat and neck affectionately, her fingers dancing playfully over his chest as she continued to make soft little mewling sounds of pleasure.

And that was the best part. She could tell him anything. And he could tell her anything. Or not tell her. Merri knew how it worked when you had terrible heartache inside of you. That sometimes it was good to talk about it. And sometimes it only served to reopen the wounds. Pride, god love 'im, had tried his best to console Chris, to understand him and help him. But frankly, the senior agent hadn't suffered the heartache that Chris had. The older man had had a picture-perfect life, despite the recent break-up of his marriage. That was a loss... but it was a slow sort of death, of two hearts drifting apart. It wasn't the same as having a chunk of the living, beating flesh torn away. Merri knew that pain. She had big holes in her own heart. And Chris only hoped he helped soothe and fill them a fraction as much as she did his.

Not that he ever thought of Merri as a substitute for Savannah. They were two different women. He'd loved Savannah. Her loss had nearly destroyed the feeling heart in him. And he would always love and miss her. But Merri had shown him that his heart was bigger than he'd ever thought. It not only had room for her, it craved her, needed her, wanted her.

"I love ya, Merri," he said softly wrapping his arms around her and giving her a squeeze as he kissed the of her head.

He wasn't sure how she'd respond. And he didn't care. He just needed her to know that he loved her, that he wouldn't stop loving her, and that if she wanted him in her life, he would never leave her.

"I love you too Chris," she said, and then placing her hands on his chest pushed herself up to look down into his face. Dear god, her eyes could be so breathtakingly beautiful. She was so beautiful when she was looking at him like that. Looking at him with affection and love. He felt a warmth blossom in his chest, making him giddy, like a smitten fool. (But in a good way.)

"Can we make this work?" she asked, an almost desperateness in her eyes.

"It ain't gonna be easy," he said, and she frowned a little. "But nothin' worth doin' ever is."

She smiled and kissed him. He didn't know how long it would take. Maybe they would never get 'there'. But life was always changing, evolving. And that was good. Because anything it could throw at them, they could work it out together.

END

A/N: For some reason LaSalle needed to have the last word here, to be in control of the emotional resolution. Probably because with the useless pathetic personality and voice they gave him in season two, I thought he needed a little more loving (writing-wise and other wise). Now on to rewatch more season one and write some Badass!LaSalle, not Pathetic-Stands-There-And-Looks-Stupid LaSalle (I will never forgive TPTB for the way they gutted his character).