Fion was awake. With a gasp and a look, at the door. It was shut. No angry voices behind. Her hand was on Stu's heart. She was upright, her legs still curled on the bed. Supported by her hands. She breathed.

Breathed again until the feeling ebbed. No one was going to take him away. He was safe, she was safe. She lay back down, pressed a kiss to his cheek, not wanting to wake him. She curled around him, one palm flat on his chest.

Oh, this was nice.

Fion made a happy sound, low in her throat. No one was going to burst through the doors this time. She could just lie with him and hopefully avoid the moment where things got awkward because she could feel it coming like one of those newfangled trains.

Maybe they could do it again! Fion had been worried she'd forgotten how. Apparently not! Fion chuckled a little to herself, snuggling in closer. The rain was pattering on the window and all was right with the world.

Stu dreamed.

He was old, very old, and firelight was illuminating the gables of an old house. Screaming children ran past him, their eyes wide and frightened. A strong wind from the east blew through the yard, sending scraps of still-burning paper fluttering through the air like butterflies, sparks and cinders like fiery dust all around him. The grass was black and burned, and crackled into ash beneath his feet.

The scene changed to a ballroom - he had never been in one, but he had seen a picture once, leaving his dream furnished with a surreal and cartoonish travesty of horrors. He was spinning. Ringing laughter issued from the rafters.

As a face leered out of the darkness, he felt a sharp pain and gasped, jerking awake as though he'd been shaken. He felt a cold sweat on the back of his neck. It took him a few moments to get his bearings; slowly, he became aware of the warm body lying next to him, her slender hand on his bare chest.

As the memory of the previous night seeped in, he felt a mingled rush of elation and fear, but no actual thoughts formed; he was still sleepy. Instead his body responded to the memory with a quiet feeling of complete contentment, something he had not experienced in years.

His arm was around her; he gently pressed his fingertips into the small of her back, as though checking to see that she was real.

Fion felt Stu's body jerk as he woke up and raised her head. She wondered if it was a bad sign that they woke in the same way, if perhaps she had jinxed him. More worryingly, it occured to her that perhaps he hadn't intended to stay the entire night and had just realised where he was. She curled in, closing her eyes against the thought, then looked up again.

"Stu? You alrigh'?" She asked, her own voice still soft with residual sleepiness. "Nightmare?"

She could feel his fingers against her back, sighed as they pressed in softly. Fion brushed Stu's hair away from his face, trying to smooth the stress lines from his brow. She hoped he didn't mind. She just wanted to touch him.

Fion looked down at Stu's chest, the scars that she could now see much more clearly, no longer covered by bandages. She liked his body. His strong arms and generous hands. Especially the sinew on his neck. She touched her index finger lightly over a bruise she'd made there.

She was surprised. Normally she was consumed by a million things at a time. Now she wasn't even thinking of home and all that she'd left behind. She was just thinking about Stu and his neck and touching him. She ran a small circle around the purplish mark, watching it intently.

The last word he had spoken to her had been Goodnight, the previous evening. That was miles away now, in another reality, a world where he'd simply rolled over and gone to sleep without approaching her door at all. He wondered what he would say if he spoke now.

He opened his eyes and looked up at her.

"I love you," he said quietly, his voice hoarse from disuse.

It probably would have been wiser to say 'I had a dream about a farm,' or 'Good morning,' or 'Shall we get some coffee?' But the words had been boiling over in his brain since the night before, and had ambushed him before he could form another thought, let alone a coherent sentence.

In another time or place he would have concerned himself with rejection, as he had experienced the night when she had confessed her love for another man, and had felt pity for him, pity that had burned a hole in his skin. He felt protected now by a cushion of perspective - what was the worst that could happen? She was alive, he was alive. If it was over now, he was no worse off than he had been before.

By admitting it aloud, he was merely putting a title on something he had always assumed was obvious; she had probably always known, he told himself. There had never been a need to say it.

Not the reply she had been expecting.

The old fears surfaced. Fion wondered how she had become so used to being scared, of being cared for, of all things. It wasn't quite like when Dem had told her though. She wondered what the difference was. She'd known him such a short time, wanted him like fire wanted to burn but it had ended all too quickly. Stu had been her constant in Vienda. Her friend, always.

Being loved made her want to run away. She was poison. She'd hurt Dem, her uncle and it ached to think of what Lochlan had become.

She hadn't known Stu felt that way.

"I love you too." She replied, looking at his face and how it had changed, realising that it felt so easy to say. And true, yes.

She touched his face again, her fingers tracing his brow line and the scar that notched it. His cheeks felt hot to the touch. Fion knew the moment wouldn't last. Nothing lasted long enough.

"What if I hurt you?" She asked, resting against her left arm and moving her hand back to his chest. "Is it worth it?"

She had promised to be honest. Love was terrifying and Fion was not known for her good decisions. Still, there they were, alive and awake and together. It was more than good enough. For that moment it was everything.

She had said she loved him. It was the culmination of everything he had ever desired in life, and yet his mind was far from easy.

At this point, it would have been endearingly poetic for him to swear that he would never let anything happen to her, that he would never hurt her. But it wasn't a thing he could promise. His life had affirmed again and again that hurt happened whether people intended it or not, that the most benevolent of intentions could wound and scar. What did he have to offer Fion? Not security, not peace; now he was tied to something mad and unpredictable, a wild beast without reins. Not eternal love, as he was mortal. Not safety; with him, she was probably in more danger.

Could he deny those realities in order to prolong their time together? Could he lead himself to believe he was any good for her at all? He considered it briefly. The bleary fantasy of their future together swam before his eyes, in another dimension, unreachable by any conventional means.

Stu seemed to consider her question for a moment.

"If you stop loving me tomorrow, well...that's all right, I suppose," he said, touching her hair. "It's more than I'd ever hoped to have you even for a moment, Fi. I know for me it's always been worth it. Every minute of my life."

Fion gently flicked her index finger over Stu's nose. Him and his damned idealistic tendencies. Pine trees had nothing on Stu.

"I guess that covers the relationship talk." She said, voice soft. "You're foolish to feel that way over me, lucky I like you for it. Shove."

Fion insinuated herself more comfortably into his personal space. She liked it when he touched her hair. It made her smile. Her future was as unsure as ever but at least she wasn't a risk to Stu. They were clearly active in entirely different areas of the resistance and Fion would bite off her own tongue before squealing.

She wasn't sure what she wanted to say, to everyone. She wasn't sure she wanted them to know, although if anyone had overheard last night it would have been obvious that she was involved and rather obvious who with.

"I'm not going anywhere." Fion said, pressing a soft kiss to Stu's lips. "And if you do, I'll just have to follow you."