"If I'm yours," Felicity whispered against Victor's ear, "does that make you mine?" His hips went still. She had meant to tease him, just a little, for how badly he wanted that word. Feeling his heart pound against her bare chest, she understood she'd asked him something he took dead seriously.
"Since the stream, as far as I'm concerned." His voice caught when she wrapped her legs around him. "I figured you'd want to be awake for your half of the decision."
"I was awake when I got you naked. You might have taken that as a hint." He laughed into her neck, and the movement inside her made her laugh catch in turn. He held her there while she found a rhythm that felt good, and when she asked him to go on, his mouth returned to that spot below her ear.
Her first orgasm surprised her halfway through saying his name. For a few seconds she could feel everything, his weight on one elbow, his thumb against her hip, the gentle pull of teeth at her earlobe as he came inside her. Then he eased down beside her, drew the blanket up and tucked the corner under her bare feet. She'd spent a year with a man who always warmed his cold feet on hers. Of all the things that could have made her cry after her first time, it was a stupid corner of blanket that nearly did it.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked, hearing her sniff. She told him the truth about the blanket, with her forehead safely against his shoulder. He didn't try to improve on the moment with a speech. He worked her other foot inside the fold and kissed the top of her head.
She woke to the smell of pancakes and the sight of the man she'd just slept with turning one over a small, steady fire. Someone had given her a clean shirt in the night. It hung to her thighs and smelled like Victor. Her running shorts had been rinsed and laid out on the back of the slide, with her underwear caught in the same torn seam. She could see clear through the hole her tail had made in them.
Rose took one look at the shorts and handed her a pair of jeans out of the backpack. "I've been carrying my spare clothes since that car tried to eat them. If you give me five minutes with Finch's knife, I can make you a tail hole that doesn't show everybody what you had for breakfast."
"Speaking of breakfast, where the hell did you get butter?" Felicity asked Victor. He had a pan, a tub of pancake mix, honey and actual butter. Yesterday he'd treated a little handful of berries like the crown jewels.
He turned his empty hand palm up. A spoon dropped into it, still dusted with flour. He did it again for her, slower this time, and she saw the handle disappear into thin air before the bowl followed. "I've got a space I can put things in. Found out when I reached for the supplies at our truck and my whole kit went missing. Took me half the day to get the right things back. All I could get you by the river was trail mix."
"That was what you were doing with your hand in your lap yesterday?" She'd thought he'd been adjusting himself every time he looked at her. Judging by the smile trying to break loose on his face, she'd just told him exactly where she'd been looking.
"The first few times, yes," he said, and slid the crispest pancake onto her plate.
She had honey halfway to her mouth when Finch asked if the new shirt meant he ought to congratulate them. Victor answered easily. "She's mine." It felt quite different in daylight, with a smear of butter on her chin and two other people entitled to an opinion. Rose looked at Felicity before she said anything. Felicity loved her for that.
"We talked about it last night," she told them. Saying it in company took a little more courage than saying it naked. "I got him in the deal, and so far he comes with breakfast. I'm feeling pretty good about my end."
Victor sat on the back of the slide while she ate and checked the route Finch had scratched in the sand. The rest of their people were supposed to meet near the shops. If those men had survived, they'd know which way into the city was still open. Felicity wanted company for more than the guns. Her ears hadn't missed the creatures testing the fence during the night. She'd like to sleep somewhere she could stop counting them.
The jeans fit once Rose opened the seam. Victor gave Felicity his leather jacket and a small knife from his kit. He showed her how to close the blade without putting her thumb in the way, then let her try until she could do it with cold fingers. That did more for her nerves than any promise that she'd never need it.
At the gate, she heard boots in the direction of the shops. She counted until she heard the same loose buckle twice, then touched Victor's sleeve. "At least eight people up ahead, and somebody really needs to tie down his gear."
He folded one wing close so she could listen past him. A man's voice carried down the empty street. "Come on out, Silver. We brought Maccas." The voice sounded friendly enough. The two rifles sliding into place above the shop awning made her keep the knife open.