Note: Written for Oxonienses' Porn Battle 2: the Rematch. NC-17.
He dreams. As he dreams, he remembers. As he remembers, he sees. He sees the currents, the main swell and lesser eddies in the vast stream of time. They comfort him in his labor.
They comfort him because he's found her again. He's found the right incarnation of her for this cycle and the time is finally nigh when he'll meet her again. Decades, he's waited, as this cycle has slowly grown to its fruition. Decades of watching her face in his dreams, watching the curves of her body, the strength of her hands, the lushness of her mouth.
She's amazing, always. He can't wait to see her again.
Four cycles ago she was in his place and he was in hers. She makes an exceptional Cylon, but she's an exceptional human, too. Flawed, deadly, beautiful.
Irresistible.
It's best with tenderness. They each have made that mistake too often, assuming it had to be awful because of who they were—of the roles they play. He's been changing that, slowly, cycle by cycle, giving her as much gentleness as she'll accept, balanced by the strength she needs to see in him to earn her respect.
He remembers another cycle, where she was Cylon and he was human. He remembers how he hated her, but how much he wanted her, too. It didn't stop him from climbing into his ship and blasting as many Cylon raiders as he could into pieces, but still, they found themselves together again—him with nothing to lose and her with a mission that's become all too familiar. They're meant to be together. That one of them always dies before they resolve their conflict—it's become almost incidental.
He remembers what he was to her, last time they were like this. He remembers the journey from enemy to convenience to ally, and finally to refuge. He wants to give her that again. He wants to give her the love she's never known she's missed. He wants to be the balm to soothe her loss.
He remembers the moment when it stopped being a contest, when she stopped hating herself for needing his touch. She pulled him down to her, guided him inside, wrapped her legs around his thighs, and said, "Hi."
He laughed and pushed a little further in.
She squeezed her muscles around him and threaded her fingers through his hair. "This is crazy," she said. "It's so frakked up in so many ways, but—" she paused to kiss his lips quickly, impishly— "but it feels right."
She pushed her hips up and back, then, giving him room to thrust.
"You're more beautiful than you'll ever realize," he told her, and kissed her hard, bracing his knees and building the rhythm. He prayed she would understand.
She moved her hips in time, sweat blossoming on her face, and smiled. "I'm glad I'm here," she answered.
"I love you," he said. "Remember that when it's time for you to kill me."
She laughed, thrusting up, capturing him. "But there's still time left, right?"
"A while," he grunted, as she worked her hips harder, faster, squeezing his cock on each stroke.
He kissed her neck, licking the salty sweat, and slid one hand down to rub her clit between thumb and forefinger. She bucked against him, crying out. Another dozen thrusts and she was coming, and then he was coming, kissing her lush mouth as she cradled his head in her hands.
"I'll miss you," she said, and there was no deceit in her words.
"You'll see me again," he said, "until we finally get it right."
"Mmmh."
He traced her lips with his finger, smiling when she licked it. Then he knelt up, so he could cover her soft, flat belly with his hand.
She covered it with her own. "No promises," she said.
He smiled as he felt his softening cock twitch inside her body, and then he leaned forward to kiss her again.
Later that year, when she killed him for the thousandth time, he said, "Always," and tasted the blood dripping from the gash at her temple.
"Leoben…if I don't make it—" she said, and kissed him.
"Cycle's not up yet, Kara," he said steadily, leaning back to gaze into her eyes; there was nothing to be gained by telling her she wouldn't survive the afternoon.
He waited for her nod of assent and put the muzzle of her gun against his chest. "Safe journey," she told him, and he said, "You too," just before pushing her finger down on the trigger.
He sees her. He's found her again, at last.
He can't wait to meet her.