DESPERATE  MEASURES

PART EIGHTEEN:

Gradually he became aware she was resting her head on his chest.  Her face was

turned away from his and so she did not see him open his eyes, nor the tears that

formed in them when he realized what she was doing. He lay quietly, watching the

slight rise and fall of her head as he breathed, something in him moved beyond

words that she would permit herself such closeness to him. Then, slowly, he lifted

his left hand, letting it hover just above her hair, wondering if he dare touch it.

Brianna had been listening to his heart beat, that same strong, slow rhythm that

Maximus' had. She felt his hand settle on her hair, lightly as though some winged

thing had paused in its flight. His heartbeats had sped up, alerting her that he was

awake, but still she remained as she was, reluctant to give up the sound that filled

her ear and settled down inside her soul.

After several moments, she finally turned her head to face him, feeling his hand lift

just enough for her to move before returning to her hair.  She studied his face, the

sparkling of tears in his eyes, the way his chin trembled almost imperceptibly. Why,

Brianna, she asked herself...why are you not getting to your feet?  It was, she knew,
because she recognized herself in his expression. It had become the way she looked

at Maximus, yearning with love yet expecting rejection.

A tear overbrimmed his right eye, tracking slowly down his cheek before curving off

toward his ear. Moving her right hand, she touched its damp path with one fingertip.

His whole body began to tremble and he closed his eyes, causing several more tears

to star his lashes. He looked entirely vulnerable to her. Yes, that was it...vulnerable...
as though the skin had been peeled not just from his hand, but from his entire being

so that his heart lay bare and beating, open to her gaze. She saw no darkness in it,

just a small crack that threatened to split widely open should she stand and walk away. 

It was altogether more than her own wounded heart could bear and she moved her
position enough so that she could touch his lips with hers. They were soft, warm under

hers, not yet returning the slight pressure of her kiss.

He felt he must surely cease to exist. How could he live beyond this moment?  Then a

warmth poured out of his chest, streaming its way along his limbs, into his brain,

centering itself at last low on his torso...and he returned her kiss, softly at first,

unused to the ways of human response.  As Sid, he had known women sexually often,

very often. But this was nothing like that.  That had been a taking, nothing more, an

act to satisfy himself, perfectly disconnected from the female as person.  Now all that

Maximus knew of loving was bound into his own, human flesh and the sensation of it

burst through him, taking him unawares by its level of feeling and intensity. Yet...still

...he held himself reined in, still expecting her to walk away, disgust in her eyes.

Then her hand slid behind his neck...and he was gone, entirely giving himself to the

moment, his tongue meeting hers, pressing, curving, darting.  He felt her body move

as she slid one leg then the other down the length of his, settling herself atop him. A

moan he had no way of stopping rose up his throat and he fisted the fingers of his left

hand in her hair, his neck arching his head back with the tension of rising ecstasy.

He wanted her, wanted to be both in and around her so that she was totally his, yet

he willed himself  to move slowly, sliding his hands under her shirt as he turned with

her so they lay on their sides. She was making little sounds as he touched her, sounds

that were driving him nearly mad with wanting her.  Her shirt was off and he kissed

his way down her torso, amazed at the way her skin responded to his touch. Maximus'

memories were one thing, but the actual act of loving her was deliriously more.  And

when the final moment of release came, when they cried out together and he knew...

oh, God, he knew his seed was streaming inside her...it was nearly more than he could

bear. Nanotechs had fluid, man-made fluid, but not...seed.  He had never felt so utterly,

utterly male as he did in that moment and he had hardly gotten his breath back when

he began to make love to her again.

They lay, nestled together, her fingertip tracing his collarbone in the moonlight that

now shone through the small window. His left arm curled around her shoulders and

she could feel the bare length of him against her, warm and solid and very... human. 

They had barely spoken during their lovemaking, just uttering wordless sounds of

pleasure.  Now, his lips in her hair, he murmured, "I love you. My God, Brianna,

how I love you."

She had begun with compassion for him, moving into a release from her own pain,

her own rejection, but somewhere during it all, she wasn't sure just when,  real

feeling for him had shoved those aside and she had loved him back with all that was

in her. Now she lay quietly, watching her moving fingertip, enjoying the feel of his

skin. She had no name for him...for who he had become...but whoever he was, he

loved her completely and she had responded, was still responding to that.  She

kissed his left nipple, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him.

He got a sudden light in his eye and before she knew what he was about, he'd scooped

her up and was striding naked toward the shore.  The tide was just starting to come in

again and he lay her down on the wide stretch of wet sand where just a few low, ripply

waves shooshed in, curling their foamy edges, then retreated to the sea. "Here?" she

giggled.

"Here," he said, grinning. "Everywhere."

"I believe you mean that."

"I do mean it," he smiled and loved her again, so slowly, so thoroughly that waves were

washing over her legs by the time he was done.  He lifted her until they were beyond

the reach of the tide and they snuggled down into the dry sand, falling asleep in each

other's arms.

Morning came and he woke, the sun on his face, watching her sleep. They were both

crusted with dried sand and he studied the length of her, the curve of hip and thigh,

still astounded that she had loved him back. A fly lit on her cheek and she moved her

hand to brush it away, waking in the process.

"Mornin'," she sighed, stretching contentedly, sand sifting off her skin as her muscles

moved.

"I love you," he said.

"I know," she smiled.

He picked her up again, heading toward the path through the palms. She laughed.

"Where now?"

He was a man unleashed. "The pond," he said, bending his head as he walked to kiss

the hollow of her neck.

He walked with her in his arms out into the clear, cool water, the sand washing from

them as he went deeper and deeper. Then with her still in his arms, he jumped slightly

and dove so that they were completely submerged. He crossed his legs, letting them
settle to the bottom of the pond and kissed and kissed her, bubbles rising up all around

them in little weaving streams. Pushing with his feet, he glided them to the surface and

they floated together. He was replacing the image of her, nearly dead as he'd lifted her

onto the flat rock, with what he was doing now.

Guiding her toward the waterfall, he found a place where they could put their feet

down, the water coming up just under her breasts. He cupped them with his hands,

bending to kiss them. She filled her own hands with water, letting it dribble through

her fingers onto the back of his head so that it parted his hair and ran in little curves

down the sides of his neck.

Sucking in a lungful of air, he dipped his head under the water and blew bubbles into

her bellybutton. She laughed and pushed down on him so that he lost his balance and

they went down together, coming up with the waterfall itself splashing around them.

So it was that Maximus came upon them, having arrived at the pond for a swim himself.

He heard her laughter just as he was about to leave the sheltering palms and stopped,

still hidden by the deep shadows.  Brianna and Sid were under the waterfall, laughing

and splashing one another, completely unclothed. His fingers gripped and ungripped

the walking stick he carried and a shadow darker than that cast by the palms entered

his eyes. Sid put his hand under Brianna's chin, tipping her head up, lowering his lips

to hers. He could see that she leaned into him, accepting, returning his kiss. His own

lips pressed into a tight line. Turning, he found a different path, heading for the far

side of the island.

"So be it," he said to himself, his voice breaking slightly. "So be it."

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