Staring out the window with a sigh, you tried not to let the worry that had been creeping into your veins take control. It had been three days…three days since you had heard from him.

It wasn't like John to go this long without calling; he typically checked in every evening, just to let you know that he was alright. He had left a little over a week ago, on a case a few states over, saying that the disappearances and kills sounded like a Wendigo. He had given you a quick update each night, and during the last call he had seemed to think that he was close to locating the den of the creature, and should be back soon…that was the last you heard from him. You had sent out a few texts, trying to seem nonchalant but also letting him know you were worried at his lack of communication. There had been no response, but you tried to remain optimistic. If John was anything, he was resilient, and the thought of such a powerful man being taken out, even by a supernatural creature, was beyond your comprehension.

To try and combat your worry, you had done a lot of extra cleaning over the past couple days, as well as a lot of pacing. In fact, the stove hadn't sparkled this much in a long time. You filled a mug with milk and cocoa, putting it in the microwave and pressing the button to heat it up. Walking back over to the kitchen window, you noticed movement through the glass.

Little white specks floated past the panes, reflecting off the glow from the streetlight. It took you a few seconds to realize what it was: snow. It started out as just flurries, but as you stood and watched, the flecks started to become larger clumps, and it looked like it was slowly starting to stick to the pavement. It was the first snow of the year, and you felt a mixture of excitement and worry. There was excitement because you loved snow, especially the way that it left a pure, white coating over everything, as if wiping the slate clean and giving the world a chance to be reborn. And there was anxiety because you knew that snow would make it more difficult for John; of course, just because it was snowing here, didn't mean that it was snowing wherever he was. But still, it could affect his drive back, if it got bad enough.

While the two of you weren't an official couple, John tended to drift back to you in between cases, and had stayed enough nights that you had some of his shirts hanging in your closet and an extra toothbrush in the medicine cabinet. He was a drifter, never staying in one place for too long, but sometimes you wondered if you weren't the closest thing to a home base that he had nowadays.

The beep of the microwave broke you out of your thoughts, signaling that the hot chocolate was done heating. Pulling it out carefully, you walked across the soft carpet of the living room and settled down on the couch. Curling up underneath a fuzzy, navy blue blanket, you picked up a mystery novel from the nearby coffee table. Opening to the correct page with one hand, you used the other to lift the mug of hot cocoa to your lips for a delicate sip of the warm, rich liquid.

Despite your underlying worry about John, it wasn't long before you were immersed in the novel, the real world floating away as your mind entered a fantasy world and became utterly engrossed with the words on the page. In fact, you were so absorbed with the book, that you didn't hear the pickup truck pull into the driveway, nor the sound of heavy-booted footsteps crossing the porch. However, the key turning in the lock finally broke you out of your reading trance, and you looked up in surprise right as the door opened.

And there he stood.

He had a dusting of snow on his broad shoulders and in his hair, causing the illusion of extra salt in his salt and pepper locks. He appeared tired, with deep lines around his eyes, and was sporting a week-old beard rather than his usual clean-shaven look. However, as soon as he saw you, his eyes twinkled and lips curled upwards slowly before parting to showcase his mesmerizing grin.

"Hey, sweetheart," he welcomed.

He crossed the threshold and closed the door, as you tossed the book onto the couch, uncaring if you lost your place. Pulling off the blanket, you stood up and promptly vaulted yourself across the room and into John's embrace. Wrapping your arms up over his shoulders and around the back of his neck, his lips came down to meet your own in greeting. The drying snowflakes that had caught in his beard gave his kiss a chilly edge, and caused a shiver to run down your spine.

"I missed you," you breathed against his lips.

You wanted to say how much you had worried, and ask a dozen questions about the hunt, but knew that the words weren't needed. He was here now, and safe, and that was all that mattered.

As if he knew your thoughts, he replied, "Sorry about not calling, sweetheart. My phone fell out of my pocket when I was frying the damn thing, and got crushed."

Smiling, you stood up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear, "I'm just glad you're back. It's been lonely here without you." Running your hand down over his chest, which was still clad in his tan coat, you pulled back and bit your lip while staring up at him devilishly.

You saw the flare of desire flash in his eyes a second before he bent down and curled his arm around the back of your knees, scooping you up against his chest and heading for the bedroom. Giggling, you kissed the side of his neck, then took his earlobe between your teeth, biting it gently.

Giving a groan, John entered the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him with a booted foot before setting you down in front of the queen-sized bed. He shed his heavy winter coat, tossing it to the side while you stepped forward and started undoing the row of buttons on the front of his plaid shirt. Glancing up, you saw that John was staring down at you hungrily, and you wondered how much of his desire was due to leftover adrenaline from the hunt…and how much was from not seeing you in over a week.

When you had finished with the buttons, you shoved the shirt off his shoulders before reaching down and pushing the undershirt upwards in a silent plea for him to remove this layer, as well. He reached down and grasped the edge of the shirt, lifting it up over his head in one smooth motion.

He was beautiful. He had broad, tan shoulders, and a muscular chest which was topped with a thin layer of salt and pepper hair that trailed down over his abdomen and disappeared into the waistband of his pants. Licking your lips, you reached for his belt buckle, but your movement was halted by one of his big, warm hands wrapping around your wrist.

"Your turn, darlin'," he drawled, reaching down and pulling your t-shirt up over your head.

You were wearing a simple white bra, but the way John looked at you, made you feel as though you were wearing the most seductive lingerie known to man. He stepped forward, pulling you in against his chest and dipping his head to capture your mouth with his. His tongue licked the seam of your lips in entreaty, and you gladly let him in. His tongue lay claim to your mouth, tongues dancing with one another as he reached around to unhook the clasp of your bra and toss it to the floor. He slid one hand down over your breast, tweaking the nipple between his fingers and eliciting a moan. His other hand wandered across your stomach before dipping underneath the elastic waistband of your pajama pants. You broke the kiss with a gasp when he cupped your mound through your panties.

Giving a growl, John pulled the pants down your legs, barely giving you time to kick them off before he was hooking his fingers in the sides of your panties and skimming those off, as well. When he had you completely naked, he gently pushed you down on the bed, his large, hard body coming down over your own. Legs spread to make room for his denim-clad hips, and you arched against, mewling in frustration that he wasn't also naked. Pinning both your hands to the mattress on either side of you head, he kissed down over the front of your throat, nipping at your collarbone before moving to your chest. You gasped at the rasp of his beard over your sensitive flesh as he took a hard nipple into his mouth, rolling the nub between his lips and laving it with his tongue before nipping with his sharp, white teeth. Right when the overload of sensations started to border on pain, he moved across to the other breast, and started all over again. By the time his mouth drifted down to your stomach, you were writhing on the bed and panting with desire.

You felt his hot breath move over your mound, his hands spreading your thighs wider and hooking the back of your calves up over his shoulders. Looking down, you met his gaze, the sight of face between your legs and the feel of his beard as he sensuously rubbed his cheek across your inner thigh almost too much to process at the moment.

At the first touch of his tongue, you threw your head back against the mattress, your now-free hands gripping the sheets as your back arched and hips ground down on his mouth. He didn't tease or hesitate; he dove in like a starved man on a mission, and all you could do was go along for the ride. He sucked your clit in a way that made you see stars, and when he slid two fingers into your soaked pussy, you almost bowed off the bed in pleasure.

John built you up, pushing you closer and closer to the precipice, until the coil in your stomach was wound tight and your thighs started shaking with the need for release. You were almost there…and then he stopped.

Whining in frustration, you lifted your head and saw that he was grinning at you, his mouth and beard glistening with the evidence of your arousal. You wanted to complain, but found that words were currently beyond you as John stood up from the bed and started to remove his pants. Moving backwards on the bed, so that you were more in the middle, you pressed your thighs together in a vain attempt to ease the ache between them. Watching greedily as John undid his belt buckle, you licked your lips and gave a small moan as he pushed his jeans and boxer briefs down his long, muscular legs and exposed his thick, hard cock.

"You ready for me, baby girl?" he purred.

Nodding, you spread your legs in invitation. John's tawny eyes shone bright like a jungle cat's as he climbed on the bed and prowled up over your body. You were enveloped in the smell of leather, pine-scented hotel soap, and the musky scent that was purely John. The sensation of his hips sliding between your thighs caused your back to arch, his chest hair rubbing against your sensitive nipples with delicious friction.

His cock nudged at your entrance, and you arched into him, wordlessly begging him to fuck you. Gliding your fingers up over the muscles of his arms, your nails dug sharply into his shoulders at the feel of his thick cock sliding inside you. He was so big, and went so deep, that you were panting by the time he bottomed out, unsure where he ended and you began.

His warm breath fanned over your cheek as he groaned and leaned down to kiss the side of you neck. Tossing your head back, you gave him full access to your throat, the same way you were giving him full access to the rest of your body. Every part of you, every molecule, was, in this moment, his.

When he started to withdraw, you whimpered and lifted your legs to wrap around his waist, trying to keep him locked inside. You didn't have to worry, because he slid back in, starting up a rhythm guaranteed to drive you wild. His thrusts were timed perfectly; a slow, agonizing withdrawal followed by a quick snap of his hips that drove his cock back inside you, hitting the exact spot needed to make you cry out in pleasure. His mouth was at your throat, the friction of his beard and nip of his teeth against your sensitive flesh guaranteed to leave marks showcasing his possession.

Gasping his name, you lifted your hips up to meet each of his downward thrusts, the two of you flawlessly in sync. You had been so close to coming before, with his mouth on your pussy, so it didn't take long for his dick to push you back up to the precipice. You whined at the sensations, knowing that you were so close, toes curling and eyes closing in anticipation of soaring over the edge.

John, always in tune with your body, knew what you needed. Reaching one of his hands down and zeroing in on your clit, his fingers began rubbing in a fast, circular motion. The combined sensations of his cock and fingers caused the orgasm to hit you like a tidal wave, dragging you under with the pleasure. You cried out his name, brain short circuiting as you writhed and shuddered and came all over his cock. Your clenching walls brought a strangled moan from his lips, and he trembled above you as he came, gasping your name over and over like a litany.

When you both had started to calm down, he rolled off of you and to the side. You tried not to whimper in disappointment at the feel of his cock leaving you, feeling bereft without him inside. He pulled you in close, wrapping his arm around your waist as he settled onto his back, your cheek on his shoulder. You curled a leg up over his as he reached down to grab one of the blankets that had gotten kicked to the side, pulling it up over the two of you in order to combat the chilly air that was now causing goosebumps to rise on your sweat-slickened skin.

Sighing contentedly, you traced random patterns over his tan skin, fingers twirling in his chest hair as you whispered, "I'm glad you're back."

You felt the rumble of his chuckle against your cheek as he replied, "Me too, darlin'. Me too."

It wasn't long before the sound of John's heartbeat and the soft rise and fall of his breaths lulled you to sleep.

0—0—0—0—0

You woke up first the next morning, soft light filtering in through the filmy curtains. At first, your sleep-fogged brain forgot that John had come back. However, the feel of a warm body at your back and an arm wrapped around your waist quickly reminded you, causing a smile to curl over your lips. Careful not to wake him, you slid carefully out from under his arm and off the bed. Pulling your soft bathrobe over your shoulders and tying it closed, you quietly left the bedroom and headed for the kitchen.

It wasn't until you had turned on the coffee maker, the water gurgling as the rich smell started to filter through the apartment, that you glanced out the window. The sight made you freeze, then walk closer to the pane and stare outside in awe. The snow must've fallen all night before stopping, because a thick blanket covered everything. The driveway, the yard, John's truck, the trees. It was white as far as the eye could see, leaving everything silent and still. You were so wrapped up in the peaceful moment that you jumped in surprise when large arms wrapped around your waist and a deep, sleep-ridden voice husked in your ear, "Morning."

Leaning back into John's body, which was still bare aside from a pair of grey sweatpants he had most likely left here from last time, you smiled and whispered back, "Morning."

You both stared out the window, admiring the untouched, frozen veil that had been spread upon the world. You always loved the first snow of the season, and this year, you were experiencing it with a man who meant more than you cared to admit. However, when John kissed your cheek and rested his chin on your shoulder with a sigh, you thought it was possible that maybe, just maybe, the feelings were mutual. That what the two of you had was comparable to the pure blanket of snow outside your window: a clean slate that covered the past…and gave hope for a beautiful future, together.