Blacklight S2 (R)

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Elijah’s shoulders twitched at the tiny voice, soft against the babbling of the brook. He had momentarily checked his watch to see ‘7:00 PM’ blinking back at him in small, compact characters, his heart subconsciously picking up in speed. He almost felt angry with himself – angry that Emma could see him like this, in his most vulnerable state. He hated this side, absolutely detested it, yet a small part of him, a part he hardly acknowledged, slightly enjoyed it; the butterflies. He had never truly felt the feeling in his stomach before; not until the damned redhead walked into her life, or rather into the office he had conveniently been in.

“Emma,” he breathed, lamely, turning to face her as her brown eyes widened in surprise. Elijah hadn’t exactly rehearsed what came next, only waving at the romantic scene surrounding them. “Happy birthday.”
She instinctively touched the necklace dangling around her throat, mouth opening momentarily before shutting again.
“If you don’t like it, I can—“
“Elijah,” she murmured, her words tense. “This is—why would you do this?”

Goosebumps prickled his skin and his jaw grew taut, green orbs darting around the clearing. “Because I—“ he paused, his tongue suddenly thick in his throat “—because I wanted to surprise you with something elegant.”
She covered her mouth just after Elijah noticed the slight upwards tilt of her lips, slender form shifting from side to side like that of a young school girl. “For me?” she questioned, as if this entire gesture were a figment of her imagination.
“For you,” he repeated, his words nice and rounded, nodding in response. “You can sit, if you want.”

If you want? Since when did he ever talk like that? With the uncertainty of a shy pre-teen? Christ, he sounded idiotic.

“Hey,” she touched his wrist lightly, scaling the clearing in five seconds, no less. “Relax.”
Elijah finally forced their eyes to meet, not a sound escaping his lips.
“I love this,” she continued to reassure, pressing the palms of her hands against both sides of his cheek, “I—I love you.”
Elijah would have returned the gesture, but his mind seemed to be having a heated battle with the rest of his limbs, body remaining still until she was brushing her plush lips against his.
“And now you’re mute? Jesus, Elijah, you always have a smartass remark on the tip of your tongue! Be yourself, alright? It’s just you, and me, and nobody has to know that you actually have an incredibly sappy side.”

“Sappy side?” he finally questioned, brows raising.
A mischievous grin formulated across her features. “So now he speaks! And yes, a big, mushy—“
Elijah automatically gripped her by the waist, backing her against the rough, prickly bark of a tree. “Take that back.” In spite of his firm hold, playfulness wafted in his tone, his body firmly pressed up against hers.

Sappy? Elijah had never heard a word so disgusting, and referring to him. He’d never be such a thing. Hell, he had always despised romantic movies, with its processed cheesiness and Mary Sue’s. He was---he was better than that!

“Never,” she murmured, letting out a tiny snicker just as she brought her foot down forcefully on his toe, not hard enough to evoke incredible amounts of pain, but hard enough to temporarily rupture his focus. In that sliver of defenselessness, she managed to hook a hand around his arm, twisting him so his cheek was pressed up against the cool, sharp bark, her lips trailing against the hairs on the nape of his neck. “Are you gonna be a good boy this time?”

“Can’t make any promises,” he murmured.

Emma automatically released him, fingers looping around his instead. “Good enough for now. And I’m pretty starved. Are we eating or what?”

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

Still in her giddy daze, Emma stared down in wonder at the sandwiches Elijah had produced not a second earlier, her auburn brows drawn together when she asked, “What’s that?”
“PB&J.”
When she continued to stare at him blankly, Elijah gaped. “Y’know, peanut butter and jelly…”
“People actually mix the two together?”
“Are you telling me that you’ve never tried PB&J, Em?” He laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “We need to fix that.”

He unwrapped one half of a sandwich as Emma scooted along the blanket, situating herself contently between his bended knees, just in time for him to present the food to her.
She stared down at it apprehensively, dubious of the red and brown goo staring back at her. Emma had tried the two things individually, sure, but together? Not so much. It wasn’t the typical romantic meal material.
Despite her doubts, with one look at Elijah’s once again nervous expression, she leant forward and took a bite.

Emma chewed, taking care to keep her expression guarded, her true reaction held back.
“Well?” Elijah prompted, clearing his throat. “If…if you don’t like it, I have other stuff in the basket…”
She’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy seeing him like that; he was just too damn cute. It was moments like these that he let his walls down, his guards dropped, and there was nothing left but the vulnerable centre beneath; and by god, it only made her love him all the more. It was that side of him that attracted her in the first place.

A slow smile spread out across her lips. Time to put him out of his misery.
“It’s really good,” Emma began, slipping the sandwich from his hold. “I’ve been missing out!”
Tension visibly left his body in one swoop, only making her smile more. Emma ran her finger tip along his jaw, “Elijah, why are you so nervous? Don’t you want to be alone with me or something?” She smirked at the last part, her brows wiggling suggestively.
"I'm not...nervous," Elijah responded feebly. "Why would I be--like that? Pft."
“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking.”
"Well I'm not," Elijah replied resolutely.
“You’re lying,” Emma said, taking another bite of PB&J. She would have gone on, but suddenly the sight of a single lilac twisting between his fingers stopped her. “That’s pretty.”
"Yeah...well, it's for you." He then thrust the delicate flower towards her.

With the flower still locked in his hold, Emma raised his hand and used it to push the stem behind her ear, his fingers stroking along her cheek when she released him.
“Thank you,” She breathed, hazel meeting blue. “For the flower and for this. You didn’t have to do anything.”
"I wanted to," he replied sincerely, knuckles brushing across her chin gently, thumb ghosting over her bottom lip.

It was hard to believe, especially for Emma, that anyone would want to put in this much effort for her; any effort to be precise. She’d never had a birthday cake, or presents, or grad gestures, and the only time she’d been given any kind of flower was when Elijah was the one giving them.

“I’m sorry,” Emma murmured then. “For the whole… Ryan mess.” She hadn’t meant for them to argue about something as petty as that, and certainly hadn’t wanted a silly, accidental kiss to get between them.
"Don't worry about it," he replied softly, "It's over."
“But I need you to know… that I love you, and not because of the reasons you keep suggesting. It’s because of this person,” Emma pressed her finger tip into his chest, the spot just over his heart. “right here. This rare version of Elijah that isn’t trying to impress anyone, or trying to be strong because he has to be.”
No matter how many times Elijah said that Ryan wanted her, or that he felt more than friendship, it wouldn’t matter. Before Elijah, Emma saw herself being alone, and if she were to ever be without him, that’s just what she’d be.

Elijah's lips fell open slightly, something dancing in his eyes before he was quickly masking it, gaze falling to the grass blades. "I love you too, Em."

Emma smiled and pressed the corner of her sandwich to his lips. “Come on,” She said softly. “We can’t let all this food go to waste.”

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Elijah wasn’t used to this – he wasn’t used to being so openly vulnerable in front of someone and hoping for the best. He wasn’t used to setting up romantic picnics or offering flowers or talking about his feelings. He had never stuttered in his life or found sudden difficulty in holding someone’s gaze for more than a few seconds at time. Never had the words fleeted him, leaving him with nothing to say. He wasn’t used to being so easily controlled and letting it happen. He wasn’t used to any of this, and regardless of his feelings for Emma, it terrified him. There were so many things that he wanted to say in that very moment that went deeper than the typical: I love you and you’re beautiful. But he was still afraid, and Elijah love-hated this fear because he was usually never frightened by anything.

Except her.

And moments like these, where they were secluded from the world and forced to deal with their emotions screwed him up the most. Because when they were alone she was expecting him to open up and show her what was inside; to annihilate his walls completely. In spite of his feelings for her, the notion of baring himself to her (in the non-physical sense) was still an uncomfortable one.

Elijah tried to force the words from his throat but he remained rigid, eyes only inspecting the grass blades before she was holding the corner of her sandwich to his lips, words barely audible as he was trapped in his incessantly hesitative thoughts.

He took a bite from the PB&J, the corners of his lips turning upwards only slightly. They had gone through the basket, making a comment about the food here and there, before Emma was playfully pushing him on his back, body curling into his side as her finger traced his collarbone. Night began to overwhelm the sky, a blanket of a thousand diamonds spilling across their vision.

“I never realized how much I missed the country,” she murmured, picking at the collar of his t-shirt absentmindedly.
“I hated the country,” he replied softly, “it was too quiet.”
"I like it," Emma mused, glancing around. "I think it’s peaceful. There's no one watching your every move, or hustle and bustle of people, no constant honking of horns or sirens. Plus, it's nice to breathe in real air for a change."
Elijah smirked. “Would you ever move there if you had the chance?”

He knew their relationship had a future, he just hadn’t taken into consideration what that future could be. Whether it was – God forbid he say it – a normal all-American life with kids and a white picket fence, and hell, a dog, or just the two of them living comfortably while continuing their jobs… or flying to an island like the Bahamas and staying there forever. Everything was up in the air, but a portion of him preferred it that way, the uncertainty, the chase.

A wistful smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Sure I would, but I doubt that chance will come any time soon."
Elijah nodded in response, drawing involuntary circles along her shoulder blades. It was true; as long as they were zip lining from buildings more than 2,000 feet in the air and deactivating bombs on moving trains, a truly regular life wasn’t exactly in the cards.

The truth was simple – he could die at any given second, just like she could. It wasn’t a nice thought, but Elijah had never strayed from realism. Nights like these were an escape though, from the reality of their fragile world, and he wouldn’t trade it for a damn thing, no matter the person it turned him into.

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

There wasn’t a muscle in Elijah’s body that didn’t feel as solid as a rock with a hidden tension. Since Emma had stepped into the clearing, he’d refused to look at her too long, or answer her with more than a sentence.
When another five minutes passed in silence, she pushed up from him (even though she didn’t want to; he was comfy,) and asked, “Shall we go now?”
Elijah's eyebrows arched in mild surprise. "You didn't want to stay out here?"
“Of course I do… but you’re lying there, telling me that you don’t like the country and the quiet, and I’m getting the sense that you’re not really here with me.”
Elijah's eyebrows knit together. "Of course I'm with you, Em. I did all of this for you."
“I know and it’s the best thing anyone’s never done for me,” Her gaze locked with his own, but as if on cue…3…2...1… blue eyes darted away once more. “And yea, you’re here in body, but that’s it. The rest of you is a million miles away.”
"I'm not; I'm here. With you." Saying that, Elijah pushed up onto his elbows and closed the space between them, his mouth seeking hers out for a kiss. An awkward, going-through-the-motions kiss.

What was going on? Emma opened a part of her up that had never seen the light of day before, and Elijah was suddenly borrowing back into his hole, hiding away from her like she was something to be frightened of.
So, she loved him. Since when had he been scared of that?

Parting from the rigid kiss, Emma sat back on her legs, her hands coming to rest on her lap. In the small space of time since she’d arrived, something had swiftly turned everything around, making it feel forced.
And nothing between them had ever felt that way before.

“What’s wrong, Elijah?” Emma murmured, capturing his chin and forcing him to keep her gaze.
"I'm just...I'm--" his eyes fell from hers before gradually meeting them again. "I just want everything to be perfect, alright? Our first...date didn't go well, so I--" he trailed again, a small exhale escaping his lips.
What? How was refusing to look at her or talk to her properly making this the perfect date? Besides that, since when did anything between them need to be perfect? Perfect to their standards was very different to everyone else’s expectations.
“You look so uncomfortable, you just kissed me like we’re complete strangers and you’re barely talking to me… is this what you planned?”
"Emma," he paused, looking frustrated with himself, "I'm sorry. I'm just--I don't know. Please don't--" he stopped himself again, the words struggling to escape, "please don't think it's your fault. Because it's not. It's mine."
Her brows knitted together, “Isn’t that what people say when they’re breaking up with someone…” Emma trailed off, her expression dropping. “This is what you were like with me at your parents.”
“No!” Elijah burst out. “Hell, no, Em. That is not what I’m doing.”
“Then why don’t you tell me? It’s like, I’ve dropped my wall but you’ve raised yours higher.”
Hadn’t Emma been telling herself the exact opposite not an hour ago?

Elijah sat up straight, his fingers running through his hair. "What can I say, Em? I love you more than anything, or anyone. And sometimes when you love someone, there's always that fear of things falling apart, even when you don't want them too. And I'm in too deep; to a point where if something happens, it'll kill me. Completely. And sometimes, I just get worried, alright?" A sardonic snicker escaped his throat, eyes drifting towards the sky.
“Remember when you got up on that train? I was scared as hell; for you, for us. I know it comes with the job description, but when the person you fucking love is putting their life on the line each and every day, it’s just…hard to care about them so damn much. I cared about Remiah, and look what happened?” His jaw grew taut, body rigid, then, voice quiet, he murmured, “I just—I don’t want to deal with that again.”

For a moment, Emma wasn’t entirely sure how to answer him. She sat there, watching him scrub his fingers angrily across his face, all the while trying to piece together her jumbled thoughts.
Then, worries she hadn’t been aware of filtered from her mind.
Reaching out, Emma wound her fingers through his own, pulling his hands away from his face. A soft smile curled at her lips when she spoke. “I really hope you didn’t love Remiah in the same way you love me…”
Elijah rolled his eyes softly, although his fingers tightened around hers. "Can we just start over?"
“No,” Emma said definitely, scooting over to straddle his lap. “I don’t want to forget what you just said to me. Now, do you think you could kiss me again? Only this time, do it properly, please.”

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Elijah couldn’t exactly describe the feeling that shrouded him in that particular moment, like that of a large balloon deflating. The words had tumbled from his lips in an emotional disarray and before he could think to stop them, to preserve his façade, they were already filling the clearing, the faucet thrust all the way up. The root of his problems that had consistently thrown a wrench in the progression of their relationship had been lifted from his chest, and after realizing Emma knew and understood life was never a promise in their profession and was willing to gamble on them in spite of it injected confidence in him as well.

Christ, when had he ever been short on that? He never had been; until she came along, changing everything. Emma was his kryptonite and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to prevent it.

Elijah ran his thumb in unhurried, deliberate circles along the outer edge of her thigh, blinking up at her as the burnt orange sky cast ethereal hues across her angular face. And then he realized right then he didn’t give a fuck if she had the power to turn him into the sensitive sap he became when they were alone; he didn’t care if she made him as nervous as a prepubescent boy talking to a girl for the first time. He didn’t care.

Because it made him feel alive, like for once he truly believed in something, and hell, he believed in her. He believed in them. And he believed that even decades from now, after escaping burning buildings and jumping from moving cars and fighting for their lives on a daily basis, they’d still be together, because they had to be.

Elijah gripped her jaw, the bubbling of the brook, the rustle of the trees, the scuttle of nearby animals barely meaning anything as he tugged her closer, their lips roughly connecting as if he couldn’t survive without her embrace. He smothered his fears, doubts, and regrets into that tiny gesture, fingers curling with her vivacious tendrils, the air escaping his lungs, world dizzying as their bodies mingled against the slightly damp grass.

He hadn’t realized his lungs were about to burst until she was gently pulling away, the air filling his chest as he nipped at the area around his mouth, blue eyes smoldering against the dying light. “Let’s make this night count,” he whispered, knowing the chase would resume tomorrow, making nights like these a rare commodity.

The tips of her finger traced the light stubble on his chin, her cheeks flushed with a wild excitement. Elijah wouldn’t trade the image for the world. “Okay,” she barely whispered, leaning forward so her forehead was touching his, the sweet scent of lavender soap infiltrating his nostrils. Her fingers were beneath his plain gray shirt in an instant, ghosting over the silver scars that lined his chest with a thorough delicacy that drove him up the wall.

In turn, he thumbed the zipper of her floral dress, tugging down the metallic clasp in a swift motion, the bustier slumping forward and revealing an equally as intricate strapless bra. Elijah’s breath caught in his throat, the sight sending goosebumps in patches along his skin. “I love you,” he murmured instantly, just as her hand rested on top of his belt buckle.

In minutes their clothing had been discarded to the side, their cares with it.

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

A trail of goosebumps carpeted her bare skin, whether it was from the slight chill in the air or Elijah’s touch, she wasn’t sure – well, no that was a blatant lie, since Emma couldn’t feel the cold, she couldn’t feel anything other than him. There could have been a freak storm going on around them and she wouldn’t know about it. Hell, as long as it didn’t disturb them, she couldn’t care less about it either.

She unknowingly held her breath when Elijah carefully rotated their positions, the picnic blanket now brushing at her back in a tender caress. Only when he stretched over her, his lips meeting with the sensitive spot at her neck, did Emma release a shallow sigh, fingers twisting his dog tags as it glinted against the moonlight, drawing him as close to her as humanely possible.

Her stomach tingled in anticipation as his hands skirted over her body, the feel of his warm palms against her skin causing an overwhelmingly incredible sensation to rush up and down her spine, back arching without inhibition as she raked her fingers in his unruly blonde hair, teeth pushing down against her lower lip so hard a coppery fluid resonated on her tongue. It took all her concentration to keep her breathing even, but her mind kept centring on the path his hands were going – brushing down her waist, curling over the curve of her hips.

Through the canopy of leaves above them, Emma spied a vast black sky, sprinkled with thousands of shimmering stars, each one brighter than the other, seemingly gazing down at her as intently as she gazed back. To think that light-years away, they were nothing more than a giant ball of gas, burning away into oblivion, when from this distance their beauty was undeniable, breathtaking even.
Could there be a more fitting view for her in that present moment?

No less than a year ago, the idea of making love in the woods with anyone was unthinkable. Hell, the thought of doing it anywhere was unimaginable. Yet now, with this man she loved above all others, Emma couldn’t think of doing anything else. Being with Elijah was all-consuming, like she was burning up from the inside out. He was the only man on the planet capable of making her feel things she didn’t know how to describe; the very idea of ever being without him had her heart aching.
There was no Emma without Elijah – it was as simple as that.

With that thought in mind, she tugged at his necklace, the cold metal stinging at her palm. There was more than just the dog tag hanging from the chain, however, momentarily capturing her attention.
Emma looked down to the contents in her hand.
“M-My ring,” She murmured in confusion. Since when had that been hanging there? The last time she’d seen it… had been at his parents, just before Emma had thrown it at him. “You still have it?”
“I kept it,” he whispered genuinely.
“I see that, but why? I threw it at you - I expected you to dump it.”
“Why would I do that, Em? I always keep the people I care for close to me, and you’re no exception. No matter if you wanted to kill me that day.”
He’d had every reason to throw the silly thing out, especially after everything that had happened between the two of them that week, but no, instead he’d chosen to wear it instead .Emma smiled and tugged gently at the chain. “Can I have it back?”
“It’s yours,” he replied with a tiny grin.
Emma planted a tender, lingering kiss on his lips. “Keep it for now. You can give it to me tomorrow.”


To think that he’d had that hanging around his neck for the past few months left Emma mesmerised. The dog tags were big and wide enough to hide the small silver band easily, but still, the fact that she hadn’t noticed it until now was shocking. There was a high possibility that she’d been distracted by other things, since seeing the necklace meant he had to remove his shirt and hell knew how distracting that was.

Something sparked in Elijah’s azure orbs, fingers rolling the ring in between his fingers before he was detaching it from the chain abruptly, hand wrapping around hers softly. “Emma...” he started, muscles tensing slightly, “You’re the only girl on this planet for me. And...And one day, I’d like to make things between us official, but for now--” he paused again, eyes connecting with hers, “I want you to promise me that eventually we’ll make it to that point in our lives. I want this to mean something. I want it to be real.” Elijah slid the silver band carefully over her ring finger, body still hovering over hers gently, “Will you promise me that?”

It fitted her perfectly, just like it had the first time she’d worn it, back when it symbolised nothing but a job she had to fulfil. Only now, the plain and simple band suddenly became a whole lot more. Emma looked from the ring, to the bright, burning eyes of Elijah Walker, her heart beat pounding at a speed she didn’t think possible.
Had he just asked her to marry him?
Okay, so no, he hadn’t exactly said the words but he’d strongly implied it; that if they lived through all this mess…
Holy Jesus. It was! That was most definitely a proposal. What else could it have meant?

The impossible had actually happened.

She opened her mouth to speak, only to find that the words weren’t there. All the things that Emma wanted to say to him spun around her frazzled and foggy mind, fighting for dominance.
In the end, two words won out.
“I promise.”

Yes.

Circling an arm around him, Emma glided her fingers down the length of his back, only pausing when she reached the base. She was abruptly hit by the overpowering need to be with Elijah, to feel him in all the places she so desperately wanted him to be. She pushed down, silently encouraging the impending union.

“Elijah…” Emma murmured her plea, planting another kiss to his lips.

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Elijah couldn’t even fathom how a night had gone from terrible to beyond amazing in the capacity of several minutes, their bodies tangled on the grass, careless of the world that surrounded them. He hadn’t given much thought while placing that ring on Emma’s finger, only running on the heat of the moment and how right it felt to do it there, at that very second. He wasn’t necessarily popping the question, because, well, she deserved more than him shoving a silver band on her finger while rolling around in dirt. Elijah just knew that now was the time to make that promise to each other, that they would survive up until that special moment in their lives.

He cut her off by clipping his teeth lightly on her ear, murmuring, “This will make for a good story at parties.” The corners of his lips turned upwards, free hand trailing down the length of her side. There movements were slow, deliberate, as if dragging this night out for as long as possible was a goal spurred out of necessity.
“You think they’ll notice?” she sighed, back arching off of the ground lightly as her nails dragged down his shoulder blades, the other grounded into the fertile earth.
A breath escaped his lips as he maintained his torturous pace, brows shooting up lightly. “The ring?”
Emma muttered something like a frustrated curse, forcing her hips against his forcefully before replying, “Yeah. They’re not exactly oblivious, save for Rylee.”
“They probably will,” Elijah shrugged nonchalantly, “but they don’t have to know anything if we don’t want them too.”
“Would you rather they didn’t?”

Elijah paused for a moment. He couldn’t have possibly been any happier in his life than he was when she had made the promise, but was telling other people ideal for them right now? The last thing he wanted was something or someone throwing off their plans of fixing the dwindling state of the country. Besides, it wasn’t life or death if they shared it with the world at that very moment. Sure, they could wonder about the ring, hell, ask about it, but details were best left unsaid for now.

“Let’s keep it between you and me until all this shit is over and done with,” he replied, massaging the side of her cheek.
Emma reached up to lace her fingers through his own. “Hmm, like our little secret? Okay, I’m fine with that.”
Elijah snickered slightly, brushing his lips lightly over hers once more, “Secrets are more fun, anyways.”

“Hmm,” She mused idly, her fingers trailing the indent of his spine. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want to shout about it, though. I’d be lying if I said otherwise.” There was a shimmer of something within her hazel orbs, lighting them up brightly, making them appear as if the stars themselves were reflecting back at him.
Elijah reached for the hand that contained the silver band, pressing a tender kiss to the skin there before holding it against his jaw. “And when we can shout about it, the moment will be even sweeter.” One day they’d be able to live out their relationship in its full glory and Elijah would enjoy it, but for now they’d have to keep it only as a sweet subplot in their current life. And after giving Emma that ring, it had provided him with way more confidence in them and their future than he previously had.

A small whimper of impatience rose up from her throat. “Elijah, I love you… but can we do this later?” With each word, Emma scrapped a little harder at his back. “You have me alone beneath the stars, naked, and all you want to do is talk…?”
Elijah actually found that another grin bubbled across his lips, “Never thought I’d ever hear such a thing from you, Ward. But then again, I think I’ve rubbed off on you.”

The red head rolled her eyes before pressing her hand to the nape of his neck and firmly pushing his body against hers once more. Elijah met her hips with each urgent buck, a groan residing in the back of his throat as he pressed his mouth to a tender spot on her collarbone, fingers unintentionally skating over the silver-white scars on her arms.

Elijah decided this was how things should always be between them - carefree and wild and unexpected, and just, incredible.

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

With each steady rock of his hips against hers, Emma felt herself sinking deeper into the black, pleasure filled void within her. Dear god, was there anything on the planet that felt as good as this? Being with Elijah intimately was all consuming, both on the inside and the out. It was the opportunity to feel the love Elijah had for her, with inhibitions and cares out the window, there was nothing between them but raw emotion.

Her fingers tunnelled through his hair as a groan burst free from between her lips, his name mingled in within it. The path his hands took destroyed whatever was left of her self-control; his finger tips of one hand ghosted over her scars like they weren’t there, while his other locked onto her hip, his grip secure to hold her in place.

Elijah kept up a steady rhythm, each and every move he made drove Emma further over the edge, leading her closer to where she so desperately wanted to be. Her nails dug into his back, scrapping along his skin as the first waves began to wash over her.
He rose up then, his lips locking onto her own in a head spinning kiss, the union muffling their cries in to the night.

*****

Emma woke early that morning, a permanent grin on her face. Had there ever been a brighter start to a day? The air was fresh, woods around them alive with noise with the rustle of leaves and the chirp of birds.
She raised her head from Elijah’s chest to gaze down at his peaceful expression; the smallest hint of a smile curled at his lips. Sometimes, Emma found it difficult to believe that this handsome man was hers.
With a light sigh, she stroked a finger tip along his brow, gently coaxing him from sleep. Foggy blue eyes peered out from under his lashes, his arm around her back tightening.

“Sorry to disturb you,” Emma whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. “But I figured we should head back to the house before it gets too late.”
The last thing Emma wanted to do was leave the heaven they’d created the night before, but reality was calling to them. Horrible, gruesome, reality; acting like a pin to their bubble.
Elijah released a small groan of protest. "What time is it?"
Emma looked briefly to the sky. “I’m guessing it’s about 6am. I want to stay here… but I know we shouldn’t. We need to think about heading home, too.”
His expression automatically changed to that of seriousness before nodding firmly, "Angelica will take us to the portal."

Sensing the moment was slipping away, Emma looked to the hand resting on his chest, the shine of her ring catching her eye. Her fingers curled against him, “Thank you for last night.”
"Thank you, Em."
A slight frown marred her brow. “Why are you thanking me? I didn’t do anything…”
Elijah sighed, "Why do you always say that? You did as much as I did."
“No, I didn’t,” She sat up then, reaching for her discarded dress.

As she slipped into her clothes, Emma was hyper aware of the weight on her finger. “So…” She tried to keep her tone steady as she held her hair up, moving it aside so Elijah could pull her zip up. “…has anything changed in the light of day?”
"Your left hand," he replied, tilting his head towards the ring.
Emma held her hand up. “Yeah… shall I take that as a no?”
Elijah grinned lightly, "It looks good on you."

And just like that, all worries that the morning would shine an ugly, clear light on an otherwise beautiful subject, vanished into thin air.
“I’ve worn it before,” Emma pointed out, turning to face him.
"On your finger," he replied, correcting himself.
“We were fake married, remember, Randy?”
Unable to stop herself, she stepped into him, her arms winding around his waist. So far, he’d only managed to pull his pants on, leaving the upper half of him glorious naked. Even after spending the night out in the open air, Elijah’s skin still felt hot to the touch.

Elijah rolled his eyes playfully, "Well now it's the real deal. Nothing fake about it, love."
“No,” Emma agreed, pushing up onto her tip toes to rest her forehead against his. “Nothing fake at all.”

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

It took several minutes for the pair to finish dressing, the cool air tinging at his skin, dusk shrouding the sky with a rosy pink. He stretched out his muscles gradually, turning towards the red head as they gathered what was left of their picnic.

“How far gone do you think the Underground is?” he questioned out of curiosity, picking up the slender neck of a bottle of champagne. They had left it when the city was being swallowed by fire, terror in its wake.
“It was in flames the last time we saw it,” she pointed out, “I have no doubts it’s probably up in ashes at this point.”
“Makes no sense,” he muttered. So the mayor would destroy an entire city for what reason? To reflect badly on himself?
“It does – just in a way we’re not immediately understanding. Venus Hill was probably a great city once, until Hoffman eroded it.”
“And now he’s going to do the same thing to…D-79? The country?”

Emma shrugged, grabbing the basket. “Why wouldn’t he? If his goal is to destroy the country, he’s doing a pretty damn good job. There were three explosions in D-80; a riot that killed hundreds in D-15. All these events, they’re no coincidence.”

Elijah opened his mouth to respond when the trees that surrounded them whistled, a new presence wafting in the air.

“Public nudity is frowned upon in the Safe Haven,” a rich, bass voice announced, causing the pair to whirl around to the source of the noise immediately. Elijah felt his chest tighten at the sight of the familiar face, storm eyes hitting the light as he revealed himself from the foliage.
"What the..." A frown immediately creased Emma's brows. "How long have you been there?"
The man that had provided them with a phone call back to the headquarters stepped further into the clearing, Elijah instinctively moving in front of Emma, eyes narrowing. “Long enough,” he replied.

Instead of the beat up flannel and worn jeans he had sported a day ago, a tight, chiffon button up stuck closely to his masculine form, slacks underneath. His hair was slicked back, a silvery scar extending along his cheek.

“But I’m not here to talk about your barbaric public displays of intimacy. Rather, I’d like to be as frank with the both of you as possible.” He hardly paused, hardly waited for them to react. “I know who you are, I know what you’re trying to accomplish, and I know where you live. So, if you don’t want the place where the rest of your buddies are residing to explode into scraps of metal and human flesh, I suggest we take a nice little stroll, yes?“

Thick chord-like veins pushed against the surface of Elijah’s neck and before Emma could think to stop him, he was dashing towards the man at full speed only to hit the grass nearly automatically, face planting against the tough, earthen floor. He immediately felt the cool barrell of a gun against the back of his head, a voice with it, “Y’know, it’d be easy for me to take you out right here, right now. But I’ll prolong your life, if only out of amusement. Now are we done being unruly?”

Again, the man didn’t wait for a response before pressing a heeled boot directly against Elijah’s spine, the shock of pain driving him to near agony. Emma let out a shout of protest, fingers automatically wrapping around his chest as she helped him to his feet. Elijah felt the bitter taste of copper on his tongue, but he quickly swallowed it away, expression hardening in rage.

“We’ll go on the walk,” Emma responded brusquely, grip on her partner unrelenting.
The man’s lips curled upwards in an ugly way that revealed his coffee-stained teeth. “Very well. I expected as much.” Then, he moved closer towards them, revealing two cuffs from the holster on his waist.
“Whoa, whoa, what the hell are you doing?” Elijah protested, rebellion still in his tone regardless of the fact he had nearly gotten his brains blown out of his head seconds ago.
“You didn’t think I’d give you that much free will, did you?” he chuckled darkly before roughly snapping the electric-powered devices on each of their wrists. “I wouldn’t advise moving your arms too much, it’ll shock you. And the last thing I need is having to watch over two passed out agents until they wake up. If you wake up, that is. Quite frankly, I don’t think I’d have the patience.” Another laugh (that made Elijah want to stab himself in the eye), bubbled from his throat, before he was gesturing for them to start walking.

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

There were two main causes driving Emma’s anger. One; that he’d fucking dared to touch Elijah and two; because she was pretty sure he’d seen her naked. That was not okay. Only one person got to see her without her clothes on, and it definitely wasn’t this freak.
She was going to pluck his eyes out of his head for punishment.

But, first…

They followed him to the same house they’d visited the day before, only this time, he led them toward the back of the property and because of the early time of day, no-one saw them enter. Once inside, Emma and Elijah paused at the top of a staircase, leading down into the darkness of a basement.
“Are you kidding me?” Elijah growled, his furious gaze burning into the man’s face.
“Go down or…” The barrel of his gun grazed lightly against Emma’s cheek. “I blow your girls face off. I doubt you’ll find her half as appealing as you do now.”
With a hushed curse, Elijah moved, making sure to put himself between the two of them.

A single light bulb flickered on when Emma hit the last step, illuminating the small, dank basement. They looked about, distain emitting from their very pores. Couldn’t they have one moment not spoiled by someone or something? They’d gone from having a rare, tender moment, to being held captive in a dirty basement. It was typical for their relationship.

With a subtle glance over her shoulder, Emma murmured her thoughts aloud. “You work for Hoffman, don’t you?”
“A member of the Triad.” Elijah added.
The man reached forward, slamming his hand down hard onto Elijah’s shoulder and knocking his leg out from under him, sending him stumbling to the floor, dragging Emma down with him. They landed in a heap on the cold concrete, the breath whooshing from her lungs in one swoop.
“I’m the one asking questions around here. Not you!”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Emma grumbled as they rearranged themselves, backs to the wall. When he didn’t speak again, she released a frustrated and impatient sigh. “Well, come on then. Before I die of old age.”

His thin lips upturned for the briefest second; more creepy than comforting. “That’s some work you did on that train – touché. As soon as the memo came in, I knew I was harbouring the culprits; one old woman, twenty orphans and two adult unknowns. Hardly takes a genius.”
"And hiding in the Safe Haven while the Underground is practically falling apart is very commendable," Elijah hissed, poison on his tongue.
Icy eyes zoned in, “You think the Underground is the only place where you’ll find Triad members? You idiot. We’re everywhere, all over this planet – from the sunniest beaches to the iciest mountains.”
“Then why D-79? If you have the rest of the world to choose from, why here?” Emma asked.
“It’s Henry’s domain, and he wants to reshape it in his image, even if that means destroying everything and everyone currently in this country.”

Emma frowned at the word ‘domain’. Why did the way he say that make her feel like there was a lot more to it? The meaning behind it was evident.
“Why –“
Before the question could form, fingers locked around her chin, squeezing her face tightly. “Big mouthed little thing, aren’t you? Time to shut up, princess. I have a lot of questions and we don’t have all day.”

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Elijah had figured shit would blow up in their faces eventually, but he had never anticipated it would be this soon. Given the guy was more of a nuisance than anything, he found himself growing considerably angrier with each and every word that escaped his lips. So he was apart of The Triad? And this terrorist group spanned across not only the country, but the world? This problem was growing bigger than Emma and him, bigger than the Rebels, bigger than D-79, bigger than the country. Unless they recruited in more members, there was no way in hell they could do it alone. Elijah was confident, but he wasn’t suicidal.

And if they managed to live past today, they’d have to switch locations, fast. Only assuming The Triad hadn’t gotten to the base yet.

Elijah’s jaw tightened as soon as the member snatched Emma’s chin, wrists fighting against the restraints, strong, volts of energy shooting through his body at the exact same time. He fought back a scream, vision blurring as beads of sweat rolled down his clammy skin.

“Who do you work for?” He questioned, shadows bathing half of his face in an ominous darkness. The basement was pungent with the smell of dirty copper and laundry, and for a vague moment Elijah wondered where the little boy that had answered the door for them yesterday was. Did he knew about The Triad? Or that his father was about ready to murder two people in the boiler room?
Emma’s eyes narrowed. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Abruptly a harsh hand flew in the air, striking her against the cheek with such fierceness, an audible ‘smack’ bounced off of every wall.
Elijah let out a shout, jolting towards him in unfurled anger before the electricity was flying through his veins once more, crippling him back to his feet as his head hit the cement with force. For a moment, he thought he was bleeding, and he probably was.

“Watch your mouth,” he growled, although the anger hardly lasted a moment before that disgustingly sweet smile returned to his lips. “After all, I wouldn’t want to destroy that pretty little face of yours.”
Elijah decided hell would be better than this. The sheer thought of not being able to protect not only himself, but Emma, bothered him more than he’d ever admit, lips curling downwards in a sneer as the cuffs only grew tighter.

“Fucking father of the year,” Elijah muttered. “Is your son proud?”
For a split second, the man’s defenses fell away, but just as instantly, the hard exterior that shrouded his face returned, fingers folding behind his back. “Very. I’m teaching him how to survive in this world; this cruel, crippling world. He’ll be able to take what he wants, whenever he wants it. No questions asked. You think he hasn’t seen this? Hasn’t witnessed a murder? I’ve taught him how to kill a man in one blow. If anything, I should have him kill you right now; it’d surely be entertaining. Elijah Walker murdered by a nine year old. Shameful.”
He felt himself writhing with anger, Emma sliding her body closer to his, as if silently assuaging him.

“Now, I’m done playing games,” he announced, voice grave. “Are you going to answer my questions?”
Elijah’s jaw grew taut, eyes connecting with the red head briefly. Something burned in her eyes, the stubbornness that would keep her lips locked even if their lives were on the line. No matter what, she wouldn’t utter a word that would compromise the group’s safety -- and Elijah wouldn’t either.

So, simultaneously, with their fingers touching against the grimy floor, their minds completely made, they both responded with a resolute, “No,” accepting their fate.

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

An involuntary tear rolled down her cheek, forced from her by the latest shock to course through her body. Every time Elijah refused to answer a question, it was Emma that was dealt the punishment; and visa versa. It was his twisted attempt to get what he wanted, and much to his grossing annoyance, it was working as well as everything else had.

Unfortunately for her, he figured torturing her was the best route to take.

Bent down into a crouch over her, the man stroked rough, cold fingers over her cheek, catching the tear before it could vanish into her hair line. “Do you care more about your hopeless cause, than you do about her?” He asked calmly, sparing a glance at Elijah. “If she carries on like this… you’ll be burying her in the woods, not bedding her.”
"We're not risking anyone else’s lives but our own," Elijah growled.
A forged pout tugged at the man’s lips. “Sorry, princess. I’d take that as a yes, if I were you.”

Another violent jolt of electricity ripped through her, her back arching off the floor, her fingers gripping at Elijah’s hand tightly – they hadn’t let go of each other once, even after crumbling to the floor – as she fought back the scream bubbling up her throat.
“Let’s try this…” Emma’s body lurched once more before he spoke again. “What are your plans?”
She’d experienced pain before, hell, her whole life had been made up of blood, sweat and tears, but this unrelenting force raking through her entire being was unlike any of it.
"Taking down the Triad," Elijah responded, his tone calculating, "Nothing you don't already know."
“And how do you intend to do that?” He smirked. “With magic fairy dust? There aren’t enough of you to take on us all.”

Emma distantly found herself thinking back to Elijah’s words in the woods; how if they survived… the promise… She found herself wanting to laugh bitterly at the idea now. The thought of marriage had always been linked with her nightmares, yet now, when it appeared to be something she may want after all… she was going to die before she reached it.
Wasn’t that just perfect?

“How much do you know about the Triad?”
His question drew Emma back to the there and now.
His shadow overtook her. “And since your boyfriend’s not talking, it’s your turn.”

When all she did was glower up at him, her hazel eyes ablaze with hatred, he smiled once more, a cruel twist of his lips. A second later and Elijah was withering next to her, his teeth clenched and his face contorted in pain.
It took every ounce of self control Emma had not to help him, not to tell the evil bastard what he wanted to know and end Elijah’s suffering.
“I don’t hear you answering, princess.”
“Fuck you!” She spat, her upper body lurching up from the hard ground. “We’re not going to tell you anything you want to hear, so why don’t you get fucking on with it and kill us!”

Elijah’s fingers weakly squeezed at hers, his touch colder than she was used to. It sent a wave of fear through her.
“I have yet to tell Hoffman you’re here yet,” His deep tone appeared contemplative. “I doubt he’d want anyone else to kill you – plus, I’m having far too much fun watching you squirm like that roaches you are.”

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

Elijah felt like the only thing allowing him to hold onto consciousness was Emma’s tight grip around his grimy fingers, their hands still tangled along the cement, as if hanging on to each other for dear life. Things had a fucked up way of occurring in his life; the day he actually thought about looking into his future with a girl he was crazy for was the day they had a ridiculously high chance of dying. Elijah had never feared the prospect of death, but annoyance crept over him like a glove at the fact they’d never get to fully pursue their lives.

“Hoffman will adore this,” the man continued, that garish smile curling at his discolored lips, tainted with years of hard smoking. “Ending the lives of the two people that have caused the greatest of his problems. You’ll get a bullet through your head if you’re lucky, but I doubt he’d enjoy giving the easy way out. Not after all you’ve done.”
“You think that’ll stop us?” Elijah questioned with a noise erupting from his throat that sounded halfway between a laugh and drowning. Hot blood bubbled in his mouth before he was wincing at the bitter wash. He had probably broken a rib, maybe two. “Regardless if we’re living or not, someone will take you down.”

For the first time that evening, their captor gazed at them with true amusement, a scoff bouncing off the walls. “You don’t understand, do you? No one will ever rise against us because they’ll be disciplined.”
“Disciplined?” Emma exclaimed, her voice rising. “What do you mean? There will always be people that will disagree with your way--”
“No,” he interjected quickly. “Impossible. Not with the implementation of mental handicaps.”
“W-What?” Her eyes widened, skin turning ashen.
“We’ll wipe them of their memories, dreams, aspirations, turning the entire population into a conglomeration of glorified zombies. They’ll do everything we say, will learn to treat us like their Gods. They’ll fear our power, but they’ll listen. They won’t know any better.”

Elijah felt his chest tightening. Like Venus Hill. The town had simply been a vision, a vision of what America would resemble in a few months. A barren field of what they once were -- millions of people that walked around all day with no true purpose other than to serve the tasks they were given. There wouldn’t be such a thing as emotions, just a cool, calculated control they had no idea why they had. Every trace of the past would be wiped away, like hitting the reset button on humanity.

The thought chilled him to the core.

“Your friends may have a fighting chance at living, but you two?” He giggled again.

“I don’t think so!” A voice suddenly shouted from behind the man, a large, metal bar soon colliding strongly with the back of their captors head. An audible crunch filled their ears, the body soon crumpling to the ground.

His heart raced, eyes straining against the shadows to see who had saved them, coming in at the most perfect possible moment. It was only when his eyes connected with the person did he have to blink multiple times, fervently convincing himself he had passed out and this was a deliria-induced dream.

Rylee?

[/blockquote][/size]

[laura]

{name:Emma#|#picture:18}

A delirious giggle burst free from her when Rylee’s circular face appeared from the shadows, his dark blue eyes wide, the metal bar in his hand dropping to the floor with a loud clang. With the laugh, came an overpowering need to reach up and hug the young man; hell, if she hadn’t been hurting so much that’s probably what she would have done.

“Holy shit!” Rylee gasped, looking down at his handy work. “I didn’t mean to hit him that hard! I-Is he dead?”
“Hopefully.” Emma winced as she turned to Elijah. She placed her hand on his cheek, his skin cold against her palm. “How are you here, Rylee? You have some sense of timing.”
“You’ve got trackers in your guns.” He answered simply, his gaze burning into his cousin. “Please tell me he’s not going to die. I told everyone we should have come for you after you called yesterday but they didn’t – “
“Shut up, Ry!” Elijah snapped. “And get the fucking handcuffs off of us!”

Rylee reached between them, only to pause before he could make contact with the metal. “Those are electrically charged, aren’t they?”
Emma and Elijah merely stared at him blankly. Rylee shook his head, “No problemo, folks, I know just what to do. Try not to move too much.”
There were times where Rylee was tolerable – and she liked being around him – but then there were others, especially when he came out with idiotic comments like he was now, that Emma wanted to slap him across the head.

When the cuffs dropped away from them and to the ground, the floorboards overhead suddenly creaked, squealing in protest as an unwanted weight passed over them.
Emma looked to Rylee. “How did you get in here?”
“I came down the stairs.”
“So, you walked through the house?”
“Yes…”
“Didn’t you see anyone? A young boy, maybe?”
With Emma’s encouragement, Rylee locked his arm around Elijah’s back and heaved him to his feet. “The front door was open, and I just followed the sound of your voices… I didn’t see anyone.”
“He didn’t look.” Elijah injected, shooting him a stern glare. “It could have been a trap. Rylee. For the love of god… don’t you ever learn?”
“Hey,” The young man protested defensively. “All I was thinking about is saving my cousin – give me a break!”
Emma paused at the foot of the staircase, listening for any further movement. “Jeez, thanks for that,” She whispered. “What about me? Save Elijah and leave me to die? Appreciate it.”
“You know what I meant.”
She rolled her eyes and started slowly up the stairs, her limbs protesting her every step.

Silence greeted her at the top, with nothing but the ticking of a hallway clock beyond the door.
“Anyone there?” Rylee breathed, far closer than he should have been. Emma jumped, accidently backing up into him.
“Jesus, Rylee!” The pounding of her heart gradually returned to a more steady pacing. “Don’t do that!”
“Sorry.” He smiled.

The need to escape the basement was strong within her and with little thought to anything other than that, Emma pushed the door open, the light from the open front door guiding her forward. There was no sign of the boy, or anyone else for that matter – even on the street outside.
Only once they were out of the house did Emma let herself relax. She spun on her heels and lunged at Rylee; the poor boy flinched before he realised she was hugging him. Then he took full advantage out of the rare situation.
He released his hold on his cousin and wrapped both arms around her waist, locking her to him. “I’ve never seen you hug anyone other than Eli…”
“That’s because I don’t.” Emma stated, giving his frame one last tight squeeze before she stepped back, breaking contact. “Thank you, Rylee.”

His usual chirpy demeanour melted, replaced by… was that a bashful smile?
“You’re my family – I had to help you both.”
And then Emma was hugging him again, much to her own amazement. Hell, coming close to death was affecting her a lot differently than it had in the past.

When they parted again, he had a more casual smile on his lips. “Come on, I need to take you to that Angelica chick.”
Elijah frowned when Emma wrapped an arm around him. “You know Angelica?”
“Your guns are in the house she was in. I went there first and she told me you’d gone off the night before for a…” A grin tugged at his lips. “…a romantic night out. We got talking about the phone call you made to Ethan and wala, I ended up here.”

[/blockquote][/font]

[Ange Keating]

{name:Elijah #|#picture:17}

“Well, we appreciate it,” Elijah muttered under his breath, frame halfway leaning against Emma’s as his hand instinctively touched his chest, only to feel an intense pain shoot up and down his spine. Hell, he had to have broken something.

Rylee nodded again, only leading the way back to the farm.

Even though Elijah wasn’t the most vocal about his feelings and certainly didn’t express his gratitude for the younger man through his actions or words, he respected him. Respected the fact that he had somehow gotten all the way to the Safe Haven by himself just to rescue them. He dubbed the act as easily commendable, brave, even.

The kid was growing up, somewhat.

Eventually the group had managed to travel all the way back to the bright, carnation barn, kids running rampant on the lawn as a few women, lounged on the patio with chilled drinks in their grasp, chatted joviously. Emma and Elijah had quickened their pace once all eyes connected with their blood-covered skin and torn clothes, fresh bruises shrouding everywhere. Elijah was completely certain his right eye was swelling shut.

One of the women, with blonde hair tied back in a tight ponytail, looked like she wanted to speak up, but the couple was already through the mesh door, Rylee shutting it behind them. For the first time during their entire visit, Elijah saw the man that had owned the farm seated comfortably at the table with his wife, bright green mugs in their hands as they glanced over their respective magazines. Only when their eyes connected with the agents did they simultaneously widen them.

“Good lord, what happened?!” She cried, jumping from her seat in bewilderment. Her curly mane was captured in a clip, hand clutching her chest.
“One of your members...proved...not to be so...friendly after all,” Elijah breathed, surprised at how difficult it was to get the words out without feeling the incessant urge to tear his lungs out of his chest cavity. He instinctively pulled Emma closer to him in spite of the constant shocks of agony that spiked through him, hip bumping hers.

“Who?” The man questioned, voice firm yet concerned. “We need to know so we can-”
“He’s dead,” Emma replied, “or at least should be by now, with all the blood that was spilling from his head. It was the man who ran the communication services.”
“Oh Lord, Lord no,” the woman gasped, bright eyes connecting with the linoleum. “Not him. And what about his son?”
“We didn’t see him,” Rylee interjected, his voice shy and low. “At least--At least I didn’t.”
“We’ll have to check immediately. No child should witness the sight of their father, dead.” He adjusted his trucker’s cap before lifting his jacket from the chair back and sliding it on. “I’ll go investigate.”

He then touched his wife’s frail arm lightly before pressing a tender kiss to her cheek. “Get these two cleaned up.”
“We’re leaving afterwards,” Elijah responded, forcing his voice to cooperate. “Right afterwards. No getting sidetracked.” If the psychopath had really meant what he said about slowly turning the population into mindless zombies, then time was truly of the essence.
The woman’s mouth was still gaped, dark skin turning ashen, although she managed to meet their gazes once more, only nodding softly.

“We’ll get you up to Angelica and off on your way.”

[/blockquote][/size]