A/N: This is my 100th story on FF. Finished or otherwise. I count myself extremely lucky to have stumbled upon this place and to have the opportunity to interact with so many lovely people from so many different places.
I always say it, and I always will. Thank you so much for taking the time to read, alert, review, tweet and say hey. It's the first day of the New Year, let's make it great one.
Hugs x.
She wakes him up with kisses.
Little peppered ones that start at his ear, warm lips opening over his cheeks and his eyelids, across his forehead and down to the tip of his nose. She kisses his scars and his dimples and every line and freckle.
She kisses the blue tinge below his eyes and the pink and the bathed in shadow grey.
She kisses the light and dark and the in between.
Warm, sweet kisses on every breath that she smiles through, cheeks aching as she tries to push her lips into the right position and sneak another one in as he struggles up through sleep.
His eyes open to her. Flutter and close again. Mmmm.
The fall of her hair soft where it trips over his skin, the whisper of her laughter a lingering melody in his ear. Her scent surrounding him.
The press of her mouth. Warm. Familiar.
Her lashes graze his nose as she dips down at an odd angle, kisses his lips, his jaw, nips at the warmth of his throat.
He remembers these kisses.
The ones she drenched him in when she was living too far away and their minutes together were tiny and precious. They're the ones he claimed through the ether of the internet and pressed all over his own face just to make her smile, just to remind her she was supposed to do that the next time they saw each other. Touched each other.
She giggles.
Her lips open against his own and she tries, tries to sneak in another one but it's more teeth than anything else.
Sweet and sharp.
He pretends to be asleep as she kisses him. She knew he would but she keeps it up anyway, keeps peppering and popping little ones here and here and here and here, oh, and there, like bubbles against his skin.
Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.
She laughs.
Mmmm.
He kisses back.
Mmmm.
He's warm and awake now, eyes open. He's smiling too and tangling his fingers in her hair and holding her there as she laughs.
He laughs too. She can taste it.
It's dark.
Hidden behind the curtain of her hair, they blanket themselves in shadow but when she flips it aside - that scattered flare of silk flying past her ears - and leans over him the room floods in and it's still dark.
"Did we miss it?" He mumbles confused.
"Mmm." She smiles again, sits up a bit, weight resting on her knees.
He holds her hips, looks up and watches her sigh, roll her body down his to come in and kiss the tip of his nose again.
"By about an hour."
"We suck." He grumbles, lips loose and words rough, un-glossed.
She laughs again. Everything about her happy. "My fault."
"Yes." He pulls her down, not the least bit sorry.
They slept through it.
Late night, long case and her.
Her pulling him into the shower to wash off the day. Her fingers stripping him. Her arms and legs and molten heat and succulent, loving caresses.
Her. Kate.
Kate, that caused the ache in his stomach and calf muscles by making him hold her up. Kate, and her fingers and her mouth and her laugh and the way she pulled him to the bed and rose above him.
They passed out somewhere around round three and a half. A little bit unfinished, a lot exhausted.
They passed out and missed the New Year.
"I'm sorry." She lies, her lips lifting and nose scrunching and yeah right, Beckett. "I'm sorry we missed it." She laughs when he narrows his eyes. "I'm sorry I wore you out with late nights and sex in several rooms."
"Several." He nods, chastising as meaningfully as she apologizes.
"I'm sorry."
He rolls her and she squeals. Squeals like a piglet. Ohh, his little piglet? He'll save that for later.
"You're not." He kisses her neck and she laughs again. Loud. She fills the room up with her happiness.
"Not even a little bit."
"Why?" He asks, above her and below her and around her. They surround each other, wrap each other up in sheets and pillows and duvets and stolen seconds in the dark. Kisses hot, like burning question marks all over his skin.
"Why?"
"We missed it." She shrugs, smiling, smiling, smiling.
"But?"
"Mmm butt." She laughs when he chokes out a groan, traps her hand where it squeezes and glares. "But it's here."
"It?" His heart leaps, because it is. It's here. But he wants to hear her to say it.
"Two thousand and fourteen." She states with relish, each word loved and exhaled slowly. Kate starts peppering his face with kisses again, breathless, exhilarated. "The year we get married."