TITLE: The Midnight Hour
AUTHOR: Susan / apckrfan
DISTRIBUTION: My site, AO3, FanFiction.net, LiveJournal, Yahoo Groups. Anyone else, please just tell me where it's at.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any characters. They are owned by Tim Kring, NBC, etc. No profit is made from this fic.
RATING: FRAO / NC-17 - sheer PWP
SPOILERS: Through Company Man (S1), no further
SUMMARY: On the run from The Company, Claire wakes up to an interesting predicament.
CHARACTERS/PAIRING: Claire Bennet & The Haitian
DATE STARTED: August 2008
STATUS: Complete
FEEDBACK: Please, I can't write better without it.
NOTES: Claire is underage in this fic, so move along if that bothers you in conjunction with PWP.
NOTES 2: This idea came to me when my iPod shuffled to Wilson Pickett's In the Midnight Hour. It's a one-shot, but as I was writing it I got to thinking it might become another series as my Mexico series is (that is a series of one-shots that while they build on one another, stand alone) exploring the aspects of their relationship I've touched on here as they develop.

She blinked rapidly a few times to be sure she was awake and not dreaming. She had no idea what woke her. Well, other than being in a strange place and sleeping next to a man who wasn't her father. And whose hand resting against her abdomen wasn't just warm but made her feel things she didn't totally understand. Well, she understood them, just wasn't sure what to do about them.

She was sure the touch was inadvertent. He'd fallen asleep and reached for her not realizing she wasn't sleeping so soundly. She was worried about her father. Her mom and Lyle, too. Not to mention her own safety. She hadn't really had a chance to stop worrying since finding out what she could do.

She blinked in the darkness. She could make out the table and pair of chairs under the window. The room was quiet as it was late enough in the year that AC at night wasn't necessary. The room next to theirs had it on. She could still smell the cheese and sausage from the pizza they'd ordered for dinner earlier. All of that, though, fell to the backdrop when she turned her focus on perhaps the strangest thing to her in the room. And the most exciting. Him. The sound of his breathing right behind her was surrounding her and she took a minute to take it in. He sounded so peaceful. She knew, though, that if someone came through that door he'd be awake in no time.

What would he feel like? What would he make her feel like? His hand at her stomach felt good. Warm and nice. Exciting. Nothing like Brody's groping out of expectation or privilege. She wanted to know what it would be like. For all she knew this was it. Her life was over. How long could they possibly keep running after all?

As if sensing where her thoughts were going, his hand slid further along her stomach to her side, tugging her closer to him. She felt him behind her. She'd certainly never slept with her dad like this, tucked against his chest. His body was so much bigger than hers. She felt protected. Safe. No one could harm her here.

And if she wasn't totally mistaken - which she could be never having experienced such a thing - his body wasn't just offering her warmth and protection. And that just served to make her more curious.

She shifted a little, which led to his hand moving along her skin. His touch was warm, his hand smooth against her stomach. If she shifted just a little that way, he'd be touching more than her stomach. The idea sent a thrilling feeling between her legs.

She turned onto her side, facing away from him not brave enough to do that. Except the thrilling feeling wouldn't go away or even diminish. It seemed now that she started thinking about it her mind wasn't going to let her turn away. Her hand found his and she found she liked touching him so she left it there, lacing her fingers through his. Her mind so wasn't on sleeping anymore. It wanted answers to her body's underlying question. What would it feel like?

Her eyes focused on the cheaply curtained window, she slid his hand up along her body slowly, inch by inch. She gave a soft groan at the feel of his skin against hers. She had no idea if he'd be this gentle awake, but she was in control at the moment. So, she could take whatever pace she wanted.

Fingertips brushing against the swell of her breast made her nipples tighten in anticipation. A soft gasp escaped when she placed his hand exactly where she wanted it just then. She lifted his hand a little, brushing his fingertips over her nipple. Her eyes snapped shut, clutching her legs tightly at the feeling that rushed through her before setting it over her breast again.

She felt him press closer against her, she was no longer the one controlling his hand's movements. A brush of his cheek against her shoulder, moving her hair so he could kiss her there proved he was definitely awake.

She glanced at him over her shoulder. He was watching her, she could read the curiosity in his dark eyes easily enough.

"Couldn't sleep," she whispered, to which he responded with only a quirk of his eyebrow. Evidently he'd guessed that.

His hand slid to her other breast and she gave a soft groan, her nipples now ultra sensitive and so ready for him to touch. She shifted a little, brushing her ass against him as she reached behind to touch him. Her hands caught in the bed's flimsy sheet, so it took her a minute to realize that her movement was making it far easier for him to touch her. Her body practically pressing into his hand as he stroked her breast, which he didn't seem to mind.

Her hand slid along his thigh as far as she could go. He was sleeping in a pair of pants, not sweats exactly but something soft to the touch. And definitely easy for her to feel him, especially the evidence he was awake everywhere when she brushed her hand against the front of him. They both gave soft groans at the contact as she shifted, rolling onto her other side to face him.

"You going to help make me tired?"

"I can try," he whispered.

She loved when he talked to her. It was stupid she knew, letting a hand rest against his chest. His hand at hers wasn't resting at all. She let her gaze drop to his hand, watching as he touched her.

He lifted her shirt up higher and she groaned softly as the cool air of the room hit her skin. Heightened by her arousal no doubt, it felt incredible. Too incredible. She reached for her shirt intent on putting it back in place, but he stopped her.

He didn't prevent her from pushing it back down exactly, but he distracted her by moving on top of her. Her legs shifted, spreading a little to allow him to slide into place there. His arms went under her as he pressed his face against her neck. She made fists with her hands, gathering the sheet beneath them as he nipped her there. Again and again. It felt…

"Oh God," she whispered, letting her head fall back against her pillow as he rubbed his cheek against the area he'd just kissed. His face was far from smooth, his five o'clock shadow having come and gone long ago. She liked it, though, loved the feeling of that bit of irritation knowing her skin would be irritated if only for a brief moment.

Her hands wandered freely, touching him everywhere she could. He was firm and hard, muscular in all the right places. Though it was the muscles in his tongue she was most interested in just then. And he seemed to know this. As she explored with her hands he did the same with his mouth. He kept building her excitement until she knew she would burst if he didn't do something.

She cried out, nails biting into his shoulders as his mouth closed over one of her breasts. She'd shut her eyes, stopped watching what he was doing so it had taken her by surprise. A very pleasant surprise. She had no idea there were so many different things he could do with his mouth. It seemed pretty basic to her.

She was eternally glad to know she was so very wrong.

He kissed, licked, nipped, stroked her flesh there. He even bit her a time or two, bringing her to the point of being uncomfortable and then stopping as if she was sending off a signal that told him it was enough. Her breasts ached from the attention, the fullness she felt there from needing … something.

He slid lower, kissing over her abdomen. She gave a soft giggle at the feel of his cheek brushing against her stomach tickled a little. Her giggle was cut short, though, when his hands reached for the waistband of her shorts.

He didn't ask or even look to her for permission, seeming to know she'd have told him by now if she wanted him to stop. So help her, she didn't. Not until he was done. With all of it.


His mind was demanding he stop. Unfortunately - or fortunately depending on which part he wanted to listen to - his body was far from in agreement. From the moment he woke, feeling her soft and smooth skin beneath his hand he had to have her. The attraction had started long before tonight, he just never dreamed she'd be receptive.

He tried to push off his mind's explanation that it was the stress of the situation leading to her behavior. Stress did not always lead to sex. He'd touched her breast, finding her body's reaction more arousing than he should have. The scent of her own arousal had filled his nose and he knew there was no stopping. Not tonight. Perhaps it was the where of it, a darkened hotel room in the middle of the night. A time for sleeping, a time when taking your dreams to the next level wasn't unheard of.

And he'd dreamt of her. Dreams that should have made him feel ashamed, except the things he dreamt about she could take. And then some. The fact that she was receptive, even turned on, by his rougher treatment of her neck and the biting of her breast told him that she wanted to take it.

He'd thought of himself as a monster the first time or two he'd dreamt of her in that way. Not the sex necessarily, but the things his mind wanted to do to her. Of course, in his dreams she enjoyed it, even begged him for more.

One of the most disturbing, and arousing, dreams dealt with a darkened room much like this one. The only light source available to them candles, and he'd used those candles on her. Dripping the melting wax over her pale skin, watching it redden as the wax hardened. Her stomach, breasts, thighs, and the spot in between them were covered in it. He peeled off each patch with his teeth, soothing the spot with his tongue. In a matter of seconds she didn't need his soothing anyway. Her body healed the damage, her skin as pale and white as before he'd begun.

Disturbing because he'd never been the type to take pleasure in someone else's pain, but in his mind he could see her healing everything so quickly. Unless, of course, he prevented her from using the ability allowing her to do such. And that was where the excitement came in. While she would be in control of when he stopped, he would have the control as to whether the evidence of their time together disappeared right away or not.

He knelt between her legs, spreading them slowly. He slid lower on the bed, hitching her legs over his arms so he had better access. He took a moment to look at her. She was wet, her opening already slick, her scent intoxicating. He knew she would taste divine. His eyes drifted lower and he knew she would taste delectable. And he wanted to find out how right he was.

He gave a soft groan at first taste, sliding his tongue in a feather-like movement along her slit. Only his grip on her hips stopped her from launching off the bed with that first lick. She remained still for a while after that, allowing him free range to explore as he liked with little interference from her. Until she seemed to realize that she could thrust against his mouth, pressing herself harder onto his tongue.

She had no experience before now, he knew this, but her instincts were more than making up for that fact. Her foot skimmed along his leg, higher until her knee was firmly planted between his legs. She knew not to use too much pressure, brushing her knee and thigh against his arousal. She gave a soft, throaty laugh - the giggles gone - as he gasped at the feeling of her rubbing against him. Touching him.

And then she gave him a gift he wasn't sure he was deserving of. She came. Without holding back, without fear she let herself go and his mouth, tongue and teeth aided her through the orgasm, heightening it, drawing it out, making her want more.

He kissed his way up her abdomen, over her breasts, taking the time to be attentive to each one once again. Realizing as he got to her neck that at some point during his time between her legs she'd removed her shirt. He hadn't even noticed. He'd chastise himself on his bodyguard abilities later. He was doing exactly what he wanted to her body just then.

Not exactly, he mused as he slid off the bed and slid out of his pants, pushing the boxers he wore as well. Her eyes widened as she looked at him.

"Don't," she whispered when he moved to return to the bed. His eyes fell closed. She was going to stop him. He couldn't blame her exactly, but he so badly wanted completion with her.

She wasn't looking at him as if she wanted him to stop, though. He was on the verge of asking her what it was she wanted when she moved to her hands and knees. Crawling to him, she pulled herself up, letting her hands rest at his shoulders.

And then she touched him. Everywhere. He sucked in more than one breath as her fingernails danced along his skin so aptly. And when she reached the hardened flesh between his legs he let out an expletive he would have been embarrassed about using in front of her under normal circumstances.

"It's so," she said, kissing along his chest and stomach, lower. "Big," she whispered before taking his tip in between her lips. He had to fight the urge to grab hold of her head and thrust into her mouth. He wanted to be inside of her, deep and hard. Her mouth wasn't his first choice, but it would be an exquisite alternative for sure.

Except, that was just so wrong. On many levels. He didn’t want to come in her mouth like a guy who couldn't control himself or didn't really want to see what had been started all the way through.

"Thank you," he whispered, using his hands to bring her head off his hard shaft and up, up drawing her fully onto her knees until her mouth was near his. A hand skimmed along her back, slowly letting his fingers trail along the skin he hadn't touched much yet. He cupped her ass, tugging her against him and trapping his hard-on between their bodies in the process. He slid a hand along her ass, fingertips grazing the crevice there, causing her to groan.

He wasn't going to be able to take much more of this. She was so inviting, welcoming him in whatever he seemed to try it was hard for him to keep his mind on the basic end he sought.

He guided her onto the bed, climbing onto it after her and sliding on top of her. She gasped as he took a nipple into his mouth, biting it to the point he felt her starting to draw away. He released it, moving to the other one and doing it over again. She didn't tell him to stop, but her body told him when she'd had enough.

He reached with a hand, prompting her to part her legs before grabbing a hold of his erection. He guided it to her opening, still wet in an unspoken invitation for him to come in. He tried to be gentle, it was foremost on his mind until he was actually in her, feeling her grip him so tightly. The tightness was an exquisite form of torture. He bit down on her nipple again, harder this time, timing it with one long thrust inside of her. She cried out, whether it was from the bite or his being inside of her he wasn't sure. If he didn't know better he'd swear she'd come again.

He licked at the marks around her nipple. His teeth marks, groaning as they disappeared. As much as it turned him on to see them there he wanted her unblemished. For now. Another time he'd toy with that.

When she started to touch him, stroking his thigh he started moving inside of her, slowly at first. Only, slowly clearly wasn't enough. And for the first time he wondered if there was a reason for his dreams, telling him what she wanted. Needed. And how he could please her better than any other.


She'd died and gone to heaven. That was all there was to it. She'd had all sorts of visions and ideas of sex in her head. Usually, they were the stuff the romance novels her mom read were made of. While he was gentle with her, there were times he wasn't so gentle. And she liked it. Feeling him bite her as he slid into her had sent her over the edge so powerfully she had all she could do to hang onto him so she wouldn't fall to the ground. He'd risen her up that high, or so it felt anyway.

"Kiss me," she whispered. He looked at her. There was very little need for words between them. Another time maybe they'd talk, but this she asked of him. She wanted his mouth on hers as he came. He did as she asked, their tongues imitating the sex they were having.

He tilted his head to the side, taking a breath, pumping into her with a few deep thrusts that had her crying out. She grabbed onto his earlobe with her teeth, nipping at it before circling his ear with her tongue.

"Come for me," she whispered.

He groaned, his body stiffening just a little against hers.

"Come in me," she urged, bringing her hips off the bed to meet his urgent thrusts. This served to have him rub against her clit, which brought her close again.

"Please," she murmured, sounding as if she was begging but she didn't care just then. "I want to come with you."

That evidently did the trick. He let go, a not so soft almost growl-like sound came from him as he came, bringing her over the edge with him.

She whimpered softly, finding his mouth again and kissing him, deeply as he continued thrusting inside of her, emptying himself into her as he was supposed to.

"Do you want me to get a…"

"No," she answered quickly, knowing what he was going to ask. She didn't want him to move, not even to get up and get a washcloth. She could shower in the morning. When he didn't move and do it anyway, she knew he'd asked for her benefit rather than his. And she relaxed into him, enjoying the feel of his weight on her, his body pressing into hers even if he was no longer hard and seeking her body in that way.

They lay like that for a while in the darkness. Clutching one another, kissing, and touching one another as they felt like it. She'd move a foot along his leg, he'd caress a thigh or a breast. Their touch was gentle, loving even.

Eventually, her eyes grew heavy, her body began to relax and she felt him move beside her. His hand slid along her belly again, only this time she knew it was on purpose.

She liked that purpose, too.

~The End~

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