You've Got Me

by movieholic

A/N: (Some) Language.

Her hand came up fast, connecting with the side of Big's face. His eyes widen and his mouth came unhinged, as his cheek grew a deep red from where her hand met it. Carrie took a few stumbling steps back, the offending hand over her mouth. A sharp, squealing sob came and went quickly before she turned her back on him and said nothing. He took a step forward, "Kid-"

"Carrie!" She cried out, whirling around to face him.

"Carrie," he corrected quickly, his hands spread out as he approached carefully.

"Big..." she sighed, her shoulders slumping forward.

Big pulled up short. He titled his head to the side, a puzzled expression on his face. He took another hesitant step forward,"Can I ask what the hell is going on?"

"God," she shook her head, putting a hand to her temple as she pushed her blond curls away from her eyes. "This, it's bigger than us. It's bigger than me, it's bigger than you," she placed a hand on her hip and gently swatted his broad chest as she added, "It's bigger than Big."

"I, I don't think I understand," he furrowed his thick eyebrows. Giving her a studious look he continued, "Make me understand, Carrie. Because I fuckin' don't."

A sad, ghost of a smile, wandered over her face. "Then I don't think you ever will. If you don't get it by now, I don't think you ever will." She turned and began walking away, leaving Big with a look of protestation and confusion on his face. He regained his senses and caught up to her in a few strides. He grabbed her wrist and whirled her around.

"What?" he stressed, "What the hell are you talking about now Carrie Bradshaw?" he tried to meet her eyes, but they darted everywhere but near him. He bent his knees and tilted his head up, moving it back and forth as he struggled to meet her wandering blues. Big gently pushed her face up with an index finger, "Huh? Tell me."

"You don't get it," it was a whispered statement, and Big resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Well, no shit, babe," he nearly growled. He grabbed her face in between one of his large, warm hands, and pulled it back to face him once more. "What I do get? is that I don't don't get it, and you won't give it."

"I love you!" she shouted, her eyes snapping up to his with a startling clarity. "I fuckin' love you!"

Big pulled his head back and claimed simply, "I know."

Carrie's eyes went wide, "Excuse me?"

"I said, 'I know.' I love you, too. So what the hell is the big problem? Was that it, or am I missing something else," his deep voice bordered on condescending.

She pulled away and shook her head, "I don't understand..."

"Jesus, I don't either," he threw a hand up in the air as he began becoming exasperated. He ran his other hand over his face, pulling on his bottom lip, as he placed the other hand on his hip. "I don't get you, Carrie, I really don't. You're not making any sense to me, and I suspect to yourself too."

"I want you."

Big seemed taken aback by the sudden claim. "This isn't a movie. This isn't some love story. This isn't You've Got Mail, Carrie!" he took a sharp, inhaling pause. "It's you've got me."

The air around them was still following his exclamation. He pinched the bridge of his hooked nose, closing his eyes shut tightly. Carrie watched mutely as he tilted his head to the side and muttered something under his breath. Her own mouth worked around words that refused to spill out.

Before he could say anything further, she stepped closer and questioned, "Do I really? Do I really have you Mr. Big?"

Big opened his mouth to reply, but promptly snapped it shut. He waved a hand around, as if searching for the correct wording of what he wished to say, before settling for, "No-"

Looking as if she were the one slapped, Carrie's eyes snapped up to meet the large man's hazel ones. "No? No?"

"Carrie, let me explain-" he protested, reaching out to grab her wrist, in case she fled.

"What!?" She found herself shrieking, nearly stamping a heeled foot. "What could you possibly say now!?"

Big's hand clamped on her wrist, and he used this leverage to pull her into his broad chest. Looking down into her blue eyes with his glistening ones, he stated firmly, "Listen, will ya!? I mean that you don't have Mr. Big. You have me." He added quickly, but softly, "John. The real me... John."

Carrie's eyes widened, her shock apparent in her open-mouthed expression. Her dark lashes fluttered, confusion laced within the shock. She leaned into his grasp, the warmth from his large body blocking the stinging New York cold. Resting her head against his chest, she fingered a lapel of his jacket, muttering, "You mean it? You truly mean it?"

He pulled his jacket away from his body, far enough to let her in, effectively wrapping both of themselves within the garment. Rubbing her arms, in order to maintain the warm feeling, he whispered back, "You betcha- Carrie."

Turning her face to smile up at him, she corrected, "Kid."

Big bit his bottom lip, reigning in a foolish grin, as he leaned down to peck her lips. "Kid."

"Let's go back to your place, it's getting cold."

A soft, yet deep, chuckle rumbled through his body, tickling her skin. She looked up questioningly, only to be met with parted lips. The kiss deepened, before they broke for air. She hit him on the chest playfully, and he dutifully grunted and acted out the pain in an over exaggerating manner.

"You mean home," he corrected with a boyish smile she had learned to adore, "You mean let's go back home." He turned her body to face his, pressing their foreheads together.

"You mean it?"

"You ever going to trust me?" he shot back, half-teasing.

Pausing briefly, she nodded. "Yeah, you're right. Home it is. Lead the way, NY152."

Smirking, Big pulled her in the direction of home. "Well then, keep up Shopgirl."

Two drifters, off to see the world...

Theres such a lot of world to see...

We're after the same rainbows end; waitin round the bend...

My huckleberry friend, moon river, and me...


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