scurlock | (no subject)

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(no subject)

[after this]

When they make their way into the bar, Doc's grateful for the heated interior as a contrast to the cold air that's outside. After a few hours, it gets to the point where you just want to get warm no matter what you're doing or how important it is, which is why they've come inside with their lunch.

His arm is still around her shoulders as he glances down at her. "You want to change first, or just camp out by the fire and get warm that way? I can get drinks from Bar."

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Doc pauses his hands in her hair and looks at her.

Curiously.

"What about?"

"About who's sitting next to me tonight," she says, one hand skating up to his wrist to encourage his hands to keep doing just what they're doing.

"I'd say there's more'n just a touch of that outlaw here, you silver-tongued devil," she teases.

He honestly laughs at that.

"Well, I'd have to say that this silver-tongued devil's got a heart of gold, where you're concerned, Miss Barlow," he muses, cheekily, as he resumes the motions of his hands through her hair, fingers skating her scalp.

A slow-spreading smile greets his words, and she might have kept teasing him, had her voice not vanished the second his fingers started moving along her scalp.

To her credit, she holds in yet another moan incurred by how good he's making her feel. However, she can't stop the sharp intake of breath that comes in its stead.

"W-why would you say that?" she breathes at last, head tipping back.

Doc slows his hands, but doesn't stop.

"'Cause I want nothin' but the best for you, even if I don't think I'm the best for you...and I still want you anyways. Can't quite make up my mind whether t'set you free or ride off with you in a cloud of dust t'the sunset."

He leans down and presses his lips to the top of her head.

"You make me happy."

She opens her eyes to him, surprised by his words. She isn't quite sure whether or not her heart is beating.

It takes several long seconds before she can move again. She picks up the hand that was on his shoulder, and moves it to his other wrist, so she is holding onto both of his hands now.

"Doc," she murmurs, shaking her head almost imperceptibly. She shifts her body closer to him, claiming his lips in a soft, sweet kiss.

She takes her time.

When they finally break, she hovers close a moment longer, nose brushing his. Her eyes search him out as she struggles to find the right words.

"You don't have to worry 'bout whether 'r not you're gonna be the 'best' for me; that's for me t' decide. And right now? I want you, too."

He's not quite sure what to say to that, but he nods, slowly.

"All right."

Doc smiles at her. His heart is absolutely pounding in his chest, because he's so damn happy, but on the outside he's still in relative control, due to the fact that they're so close together and he has no urge to make a scene.

She nods in return.

"Okay."

She is freaked out enough as it is, worrying about whether or not she is doing things right, wondering if she is making the right choices; she doesn't want or need him doing the same. She just needs him to be himself, and the rest will fall into place.

She returns the smile, and settles back into her original place, not far from him, but not so terribly close, either. She releases his wrists, letting her lips fall tenderly at his shoulder.

"And I'm glad you're happy," she mumbles into his shirt.

"Me too," he admits, quietly, as he pulls in a deep breath and then exhales.

It's been a long time since he's been this relaxed. He's missed it and it likely shows on his features as he settles on the floor, comfortable and content with both the fireplace and with her.

And as he settles, shoulders against the seat of one of the couches, she settles against him, head on his shoulder and hand lightly resting on his chest.

She sighs contentedly, stretching her feet towards the warmth of the fireplace.

There's no real need for them to talk. Not at the moment.

What else can he say to a woman he's falling in love with, from another time and place, met only in this crazy bar at the end of the universe of all places? He's not sure. For all the things he can talk his way out of or in to, he's got no idea what to say.

So he settles on silence.

It's one of the few perfect moments of Katherine's life. She concentrates on the steady rise and fall of his chest under the palm of her hand, the crackle and roar of the fire warming their work-chilled muscles, and his fingers in her hair. She watches the fish dart hither and thither for a long time, the toes of one foot slowly moving along one of Doc's.

Eventually, her eyes close, and the warmth of the fire and his body heat combines with her still-full stomach, and the fact that she didn't sleep much last night, to lull her into a peaceful sleep. She won't dream, this time.

She never does, when Doc is with her.

Doc keeps his arm around her shoulders and settles that blanket snug around her body, and stays awake for the time she sleeps, keeping watch. His eyes focus on the flames and the fish, and her foot resting against his, the way she curls into his side.

She's happy.

And that's all he's ever wanted.

The smile doesn't leave his face for the next few days.

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