Her Song

17 - The Truth Is Out There

**Van**

It was impossible not to touch her. I'd tried. Oh how I'd tried.

The problem was that once we'd opened the door that allowed me to wrap my arms around Kim's soft warmth it was impossible to close it again. And I couldn't even bring myself to want to. The night we'd first displayed our fake relationship for general consumption, the night when I'd almost but not quite kissed her, had changed everything. Before that although we'd shared a room to sleep we'd been careful to avoid physical contact or even contact with the other's bed. Each time we'd entered a new room we'd done the 'which bed do you want' dance. Friendly conversation and mutual respect of television choices had been maintained at all times but not once had either of us ventured toward the other's mattress.

Once that physical barrier had been crossed everything was different. It had started with the 'my bed is a private island for one' situation. It may not add to my rock star credibility to admit this but we'd escaped the after party to curl up in our own beds to eat snacks and watch old episodes of the X-Files. Yes, we were living on the edge, something that suited me just fine. The edge that didn't suit me just fine was the edge of the bed that I had to hang off in order to reach across to snag a snack from the bowls and bags that encircled Kim on her bed. The one time I'd tried to reposition a bowl from her bed to mine she'd snarled at me with all the intensity of a hungry wolverine. Eventually, sick of the circus style balancing act that needed to be enacted every time I wanted an M&M, I set my beer down on the side table between our beds, climbed out from beneath the covers and after rearranging the snacks on Kim's bed lifted the covers and slid in.

"Van?" she squeaked.

"Kim," I replied as I plumped up a pillow behind me, settled into place and grabbed a handful of candy.

"What are you doing?" She poked me in the bicep.

"Ensuring I have easy access to the snacks," I mumbled around a mouthful of chocolate as I focused on the TV where Mulder and Scully were trying to work out what the hell the deal was with a creepy guy who was slithering around in the duct work of buildings and killing people.

"No," she hissed from beside me where she sat rigid. "You're not wearing a shirt!"

"So what? How many nights have we shared a room now? This is not a new occurrence Duchess."

"Yes but...but...but..."

"But what?" I was trying very hard not to admit to myself that leaping dressed in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts into bed with her may not have been one of my best ideas. There was no way I'd admit it to her.

"Nothing." This time the pointed tip of her finger jabbed into my pec, I flexed it a fraction of a second too late. Kim flopped back into her pillows. "Just don't try anything."

I turned to her with a grin. "Exactly who do you think you're sitting beside right now? My self-restraint is legendary." My attention back on the snack bowl I added, "Plus I'm not a total sleaze."

Just then the creepy stretchy dude on the TV screen burst out of a heating grate and with a yelp Kim threw herself at me scattering treats across the room.

"Oh. My. God!" she gasped burying her face in my neck. My arms wrapped around her instinctively. Her sleeping attire was little better than mine, a silky pair of sleep shorts and a scrap of fabric masquerading as a camisole. Damn she felt good. Smelled even better. I dropped my head just a little to breath in the scent of the perfume that clung to her. The awareness of just how close we suddenly were and just how little fabric lay between the two of us drifted down over me like a blanket.

Danger! Danger! Danger!

"What was it you just said about not trying anything? I feel violated," I quipped in an attempt to remind myself of just who we were to each other.