A/N: Hi! Thank you for reviews of Prelude's last chapter and putting the story in favorites. Wow, that was really nice thing to do. Okay, I wrote this story awhile ago. I don't know why I haven't posted this earlier, but here it is. My very first (and last?) attempt to write a fluff story:D Thank you, Lily Moonlight for reading this silly piece and helping with grammar. Errors are so mine.
Spoilers: Somehow 5x24, but no mentions about 5x25 (at least not yet).
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A Haven of Tranquility
The Sweet Drink of Gods
Time has almost stopped. A day goes slow, hours are lazy, and minutes feel like eternity. He enjoys every second of it. He likes how he doesn't have to hurry anywhere. No dead bodies, no crime scenes, no mysteries, no running perps, nothing which could steal his thoughts, mind and time from the harmony he has found on the island. He can only be, and that is something new he has never before considered doing. It is all because of the woman in his life, and what he likes, loves, the most is that he isn't alone. She is with him.
The sun shines with its full glory on the blue sky and it is much brighter above the Aegean Sea than it is above New York City. The heat lingers everywhere, and it hums with the faint breaths of air. It radiates through the roof, walls, ventilation windows and terrace of a villa. Their hotel is the tenth and last in line in the hotel area at the top of the small town. The island has restaurants, cafes, churches, taverns, shops, boutiques and galleries, and the sea is 400 meters below. He isn't disappointed in the brochure's claims that the hotel enjoys the best views. They have their own villa and private terrace with views of the sea and volcano. He has seen the most beautiful dawns and sunsets over the sea. A haven of tranquility, they said in the travel agency when he had booked the trip and the villa with all the facilities. The views are spectacular, he agrees with that. But the most breath taking view is right in front of him as he looks at the woman beside him. He isn't disappointed at all.
She sleeps on her side on the bed, her right arm beneath the pillow as the left one rests on the curve of her waist and her curly hair is spilled out around her head. Her eyes are closed, long eyelashes resting on her cheeks, a small smile on her face, her breath deep and even, like she is dreaming. She looks relaxed, and he is quite sure there aren't any darkened thoughts clouding her mind. She looks happy. Her feet are tangled with the sheer sheet that covers half of the bed. The woman's tanned skin looks darker than it really is in contrast to the white sheets on the bed and his white shirt that she wears. He hasn't admitted to her, yet, but it sure looks better on her than him. He is better at showing his emotions with actions, for he feels a bit shy, always has, when feelings need to be revealed by words. But lately, he has improved on that, learning to say the words that matter the most. It all started from the last time they were in land of the ancient Gods.
Her ability to show emotions and affections toward him in such small gestures surprises him every time. The fact that she wants to be wrapped in his cloth, in his scent, makes him love her more. He feels humble for he has never imagined her to have such deep feelings toward him. It melts his heart; the heart which belongs to the woman whom he has always found beautiful and attractive, even though she has tried to hide behind her badge, gun, and those leather jackets which fill closets in their apartment in New York. She has proven to be as tough as any other detective, but she is more than just a friend and a colleague. He knows she doesn't want to be treated any other ways but as an equal partner, and that is what she had been to him. But he sees her differently nowadays.
Everything about her exhales pureness. It feels like she absorbs her energy and strength from the sun, and it is seen from her features as she looks like a goddess. He is almost sure she is part of something higher, something divine. Maybe she is. After all, she is from the land of ancient Gods. He isn't flush against her, but he can feel her warmth as he watches her at the other side of the bed. There has always been untamed and unseen chemistry between them, and that is how he has always known, deep inside his heart, that the woman would be in his life, one way or another. And as he studies her hand, even as his eyes scan those barely visible scars on her fingertips, he can't feel anything but touched and loved by how the single, golden band embellished by two glittering diamonds on her ring finger is the permanent and solemn promise to be the most important part of his life.
Another day in paradise started from the moment she had reached for his hand right outside the villa, smiling and asking his permission with her eyes. They had sparkled, competing with the rays of the sun. He had smiled back at her and covered her hand with his. Yes, we are together, he shared an unbroken connection with the woman. He had relished, still relishes, the sensation in his heart when bands of gold had hit together as he had laced fingers with her. Walking hand in hand was something he had done only few times with Claire, never with Peyton. His late wife had been nearly as reluctant as he had been to show affection in public places so it hadn't bothered them to walk side by side, only their arms brushing at times. But with her, walking hand in hand seems to be the most natural thing to do. At least here where there aren't prying gazes. Here he doesn't think twice if he wants to kiss her or pull her closer when they walk along the alleys of the island town. He doesn't want to be shy about holding her hand in New York City, but he is sure that will change for her presence brings forth his new, softer sides which he accounted to be hidden completely.
They had spent the whole day sunbathing. It was one of those things he never considered doing either. She had remembered to toss the sun tan lotion and towels in the bag, which had contained supplies of a picnic, before they had left from their villa and began to walk down the hills into a private shore. After spending the day under the sun, having a picnic, swimming in the lucid and sparkling water and walking along the waterline with her, hand in hand, his skin had slightly burned and felt tender even though she had spread the sun tan lotion more than once during the day. But when he had muffled her moans with his mouth, felt her trembling in his arms, and rocked them both into oblivion in those lazy, dreamy hours of afternoon, he had realized that it wasn't just his skin that had burned. The love she shared with him would flame inside his heart for the rest of his life.
He glances at the woman beside him and brushes few curls from her face before he places a soft kiss on her forehead. Yeah, he loves how it all has changed. She shifts a bit, always seeking comfort in his touch, but she doesn't wake up. He leaves her sleeping for she is still tired from the day at the beach. He walks out of the bedroom toward the kitchenette, passing their suitcases on the floor in the living room. The room and the small kitchenette are dim, and the ventilation windows are ajar. The door leading to the terrace and the windows in the living room have been covered with the sheer curtains to hold the heat outside, but now as the sun has began to fall slowly beyond the horizon, coloring the island with different shades of orange, he draws the curtains and opens the door to the terrace. He considers putting the air conditioning on, but he knows she will be cold, so he lets the faint breeze cool the villa.
He opens the door of the fridge and takes out a carton of nectar. The smell of the soft drink reminds him slightly of the perfume of her shampoo, the odor that lingers always on her pillow, always in his mind. He fills a glass with the soft drink made by fruit juice and drinks it with three large gulps. He needs more. He begins to refill the glass, but stops. He places the glass and nectar carton on the counter as he hears movement and senses her in the same room. He is very aware of her closeness and he closes his eyes just before he feels her lips on his jaw, just below his ear. She places her hand on his shoulder, letting it slide gently along his back.
"Hi." She purrs. Her breath graces his skin, and it is as sweet as the nectar still tickling in his mouth. He wants more.
"Hey." He turns around and leans against the sink. His gaze falls on hers and lingers seconds too long, but he has that permission to watch what is his own. "Did I wake you?"
She shakes her head, curls bouncing. She leans closer and smiles dreamily. "I'm thirsty."
His gaze lands on the glass on the kitchen counter, and he grins. Instead of handing the glass into her hand, he pulls her closer. Before she can say any word, as her thoughts and movements are still drowsy, he leans to kiss her. His lips are soft, so soft, but kisses are fervent. She can taste the nectar as he slides his tongue inside her mouth. She moans, and he deepens the kiss. Her hands slide up his back, traveling all the way to the nape of his neck.
"You have sand in your hair." She breathes against his mouth, exploring the man's hair.
His hands rest on her hips and she is flush against his body. He spins them around and pushes her against the kitchen counter. She can't hide the sudden flash of anticipation rushing through her. She gasps audibly as his mouth seeks its new target on her neck. She remembers and relishes the hours they spent on the private shore. With pleasure, again, she tilts her head allowing him a better access.
He loves the smell of her hair. Her curls tickle when he buries his face in the crook of her neck. He places small kisses along her neck down to her shoulder, tasting the saltiness of the sea on her skin with the tip of his tongue. She still has a sheer layer of sun tan lotion on her body as his hands find their way under the shirt. His hands rest awhile on her bikini pants before he slides his hands downwards to feel the curve of her butt. He gives a slight squeeze and a satisfied groan leaves his throat as he hears her moan. He pulls away before things get too pleasurable, leaving them both breathless.
There is a moment of silence as they just stand still, holding each other. Then she asks: "You think I could have my share of that nectar?"
He lifts his gaze to see her amused smile. He smirks and reaches for the glass. He places the rim of the glass on her lips and slopes the glass so she can drink.
"It's sweet." She licks her lips after few gulps.
"Just like you." He rumbles into her ear before he kisses her quickly. She blushes, casting her gaze away, but he grabs her chin gently.
"Are you blushing, Bonasera?" He rarely uses her former name anymore.
She rolls her eyes, giving his shoulder a light nudge. "Don't push it, Taylor."
He laughs, kisses her cheek before he pads toward the bedroom. "Drink the rest and come back to bed." He turns to peek over his shoulder and looks at her with the intensity which has been in his blue eyes since their relationship has become closer, intimate.
She can't say any coherent words, so she nods, and turns her head away to hide her crimson blushing. She takes a shaky breath, trying to calm her heart beats, but she knows when he is close to her, when he looks at her and asks her to come back to bed she can't shake the heat effects in her body. Her stomach flips in excitement, her breath catches in her throat, her legs feel shaky and her heart beats faster, not to mention the pleasurable waves in her body and the thoughts in her head. She wonders if there are physical symptoms of falling, no, being, madly in love, because she sure has them all. The blue eyed man has a firm hold on her heart and she knows there isn't the slightest chance to get hurt by him. Her bad luck with men has stopped, finally. She can't believe that the right one has been by her side all those years.
Her gaze lands on her wedding ring, and the two rocks embellishing it. She thinks about how soon a third rock could be added into her ring for she is certain and positive of the signs and indications of the new, growing life inside her body, and it only intensifies the symptoms of being in love even more.
She fills the glass with the nectar, a small smile on her lips, and drinks it all before she places the glass back on the counter. She puts the carton back in the fridge and cool air hits her skin. But she is sure the sudden cool air isn't what causes her shivers. The man's voice is a deep rumble through the air between them.
"Are you coming?"
She turns around, leaning against the fridge's door, and finds him standing by the door. She has no idea how long he has stared at her. He grins, his blue eyes bright. She walks closer, and he just can't stop staring at the sway of her hips.
Her voice is smoky when she leans to whisper in his ear and places her hands on his shoulders. "It's our honeymoon, Mac. We have all night long…" She pulls away to see the flash of desire in his eyes.
He wraps his arms around her waist and leans down. His lips skim against hers. "Love you."
"Love you, too." Her kisses are gentle, but there is certain possessiveness in her touch. He doesn't mind how she seems to control everything about him, even his heartbeats. He doesn't mind how she has changed it all. When he stands there in the door frame, holding his wife in his arms, arms wrapped around each other's waists, foreheads pressed together, his mind registers her words, her presence, and he understands.
The island isn't the only haven of tranquility.
He holds one of his own now.
Too much fluff?:D Too sappy? I just realized that the story is mostly written in Mac's point of view. Hope I did justice to him. Thanks for reading! Oh, the island is real. Feedback is always welcome.