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femme aux phlox

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Time slowed to a crawl under Pike’s reign.

Abby’s days of balancing leadership with her duties in Medical were gone, replaced by a mind-numbing and exhausting routine. Every morning she rose in Marcus’ quarters, and every morning one of Pike’s guards would arrive to escort her to Medical, where she’d work and work until another guard came to take her home. She hadn’t seen the outside in what felt like weeks.

It was as if she’d never come to the ground at all.

The one shining beacon of her days was the visits she’d get from the kids. Octavia was gone and Bellamy...well, she preferred not to think about Bellamy, but Harper, Monroe, and even Monty and Nathan often popped by for “visits” in which she’d carefully examine tiny bruises and cuts while they slipped her information on the outside.

From what she could tell, Pike had gotten his war, but not the one he’d wanted. Clarke and Octavia had managed to get to Indra and what was left of Trikru, as well as eleven of the twelve clans, and avert a war with Skaikru by the not unfateful timing of Thelonius Jaha and his cult of followers. Instead of fighting the Grounders, Pike was embroiled in a vicious power grab by an unstable Thelonius, who Harper reported could be seen talking to thin air at any given time. The last she’d heard, Thelonius planned to march on Polis to strike some sort of deal with Lexa.

Abby had not been idle in that time. For days she’d worked with the remaining kids to cobble together some sort of rebellion against Pike. Raven had been her main source of information and planning, but then Monroe had turned up one day with word that Jaha had given Raven some strange chip to ease her pain, and Raven just...disappeared. From then on, it was Abby and the disgruntled kids of Farm Station who couldn’t stand for what their parents had done in the name of safety that worked to try and free their best and brightest from prison and take on Pike. It was slow going, though, and Abby’s hands were tied tight by the constant shadow of her guards. She did what she could--she passed messages and patched up her rebels, and didn't question Harper when she asked for a series of sedatives that she helped the girl smuggle out of Medical in her jacket.

She missed Marcus. The longest they’d ever been separated on the ground was the few days he’d spent in Lexa’s captivity, and now weeks had passed since she’d last set eyes on him. The nights were now full of fitful sleeps and stress-induced nightmares that often threatened to drown her without the calming touch of Marcus’ hand on her waist (or buried in her hair, or clutching her own so tightly that she had no idea where he ended and she began). The days were spent caring for their people and trying very hard not to bring up the mental image of Marcus imprisoned or tortured. She’d even begun to sleep with a gun she’d found tucked under the mattress just to feel some sort of safety. There’d been a time when she’d hated guns, but she’d gotten used to the smell of gunpowder that always seemed to rest in the crook of Marcus’ neck, and besides...she was on her own. No one was going to defend her, so she had to defend herself. And that’s what she’d tell herself every night as she tried to fall asleep in the bed that she'd shared with the one person on Earth she knew would protect her with everything he had in him, just as she would him. Just as they both would protect her daughter.

It was a week after Raven disappeared that she was woken from the first sleep she’d had in months to her door swinging open without her permission.

Adrenaline flooded her system. She carefully slipped her hand over to Marcus’ side of the bed and retrieved the handgun under his pillow, moving silently from under the sheets even as her hands shook and her brain screamed for her to run.


She froze.

It was Marcus.

Abby scrambled for the switch on the wall and slammed her hand on it.

There he was, suddenly in startling brightness, beard and hair longer, jacket gone and clothes a little dishevelled, but unscathed and whole and there in front of her like he’d never left. She froze for a moment in complete shock at the sight of him turning his head to spot her crouched on their bed in one of his shirts and a soft pair of shorts she’d also pilfered from his wardrobe.

“Marcus.” Abby choked out.

The gun was tossed aside as she climbed quickly from the bed and crossed the room to him at a run, throwing herself into his arms and wrapping him tightly in her own as a sob escaped her throat.

“How did you escape?” Abby asked with her face buried in his neck. "I've been trying to get you out for weeks."

“Harper drugged the guards with the sedatives you gave her.” Marcus pulled back just far enough to frame her face in his hands. “They didn't want to involve you in case in backfired. Octavia’s back, too. Beat the shit out of Bellamy. You’ll have to deal with that later.”

“But Pike--”

“Is currently in some sort of strange coma, according to Raven. Took one of those chips Thelonius had. I got the impression it wasn’t willingly.” Marcus brushed her hair back from her face in some attempt to smooth out her mussed ponytail.

“Raven?!” Abby gripped his shoulders tight. “She’s alright?”

“She’s with Octavia and Sinclair. She’s okay. She didn’t want to wait to say sorry, so she sent me with her apologies and a promise to let you kick her ass later.”

“Thank god,” Abby sighed. She ran her hands down his chest to rest her hands over his heart. “Is it over now, Marcus?”

Marcus smirked a little and Abby resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“Okay, is this current crisis over?” She amended.

“Yes.” Marcus leaned in and placed a kiss to her forehead almost reverently. “In the morning we head for Polis with whoever will come with us. We have to get to Clarke and stop Thelonius.”

Abby looked up at him. He was smiling with tired eyes, but he was there. She could feel his heartbeat under her fingertips. He was home.

“So we have tonight?” Abby asked, slowly.

“We have tonight.” Marcus pulled her closer and tipped his head down towards hers, whispering against her lips. “Tonight, we’re free.”

And then he kissed her.

Abby groaned into his mouth and kissed him back fiercely. He was pliant beneath her fingers, his body melting into hers like it had done so hundreds of times before, and not for the second time in their lives. She held tight to his shoulders to lift herself up and wrap her legs around his waist, and felt a thrill shoot through her as his arms came up to automatically support her without either of them having to break their kiss.

Marcus walked them over to the bed with his mouth hot against hers. He broke away from her in order to lay her carefully on the rumpled sheets and let out a laugh as her greedy hands pulled him down on top of her without letting him even stop to take off his boots.

“Abby,” Marcus mumbled against her mouth. “I gotta get my boots off.”

“In a minute.” Abby was far too busy peppering kisses down his neck and biting at the spot where his neck sloped into his strong shoulders. He somehow still smelled of gunpowder.

She’d gone long enough without feeling him near her--she wasn’t about to give him up now.

“Just--hang on a sec, you have no idea how much I don’t want to let go right now.” Marcus pushed himself off of her for a moment to reach for his boots. He spotted the gun at the same time and placed it carefully on the table behind him, seeming to understand why she'd had it in the first place.

Abby took the opportunity to divest herself of his shirt. She waited with a small smirk on her face for him to turn back around, his eyes widening in shock at the sight of her naked from the waist up and dressed only in his too-big workout shorts. Abby watched him take in her round, full breasts and toned stomach and silently congratulated herself on striking Marcus Kane dumb.

“I wanted to do that.” Marcus growled and reached for her, free of his boots and socks, pressing her back into the mattress and blanketing her body with his own as he kissed her, hard, and let his hands wander down her bare sides to slip under her shorts and palm her ass in his hands.

“Marcus,” Abby gasped, feeling him lift her hips and press her against his hardness through his pants. She cradled his hips between her legs and ground herself against him, seeking friction, seeking him, desperate for him in the same way his eyes told him he was desperate for her.

“Oh god, Abby.” Marcus gasped in her ear as her legs squeezed his hips. He took her mouth in a kiss before making his way down her neck and leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses against her tingling skin, finally arriving at her breasts to take one of her peaked nipples into his mouth.

Electricity shot through Abby’s body from where his lips sucked eagerly at her breast. She felt the ache between her legs increase tenfold and let out a breathy cry when he left one nipple to tease his way over to the other. It was almost unbearable, almost too much, and the only thing keeping her grounded was the grip she had on his shaggy hair.

“Marcus,” Abby groaned, arching up into his eager mouth. “Marcus, strip.”

Marcus’ lips popped off her nipple. He raised his head to look at her--he wasn’t smirking, as she half-suspected he might be, but instead looked completely wrecked in an attractively mussed kind of way. He let her go to sit up between her knees and pull his shirt over his head, and then all of the sudden there was shirtless Marcus breathing heavily in front of her.

Abby sat up just enough to reach for his belt. She kept her eyes locked with his as she undid the worn leather and unclasped the button on his pants, lowering the zipper and brushing her fingers against his hard cock where it still rested in his boxers. Marcus’ small grunt and jerking hips gave him away just as much as his hardness did.

She let him go. Abby lifted her own hips up, instead, and shimmied her way out of his shorts. She lay there naked before him and smirked as he took her in for the first time.

“Tease,” Marcus growled. He dove for her mouth and kissed her with a hunger she’d forgotten existed. She drifted her hands down to shove at his pants and underwear, and together they both managed to push and kick at the clothing until he, too, was naked.

Abby held his body between her legs as he teased his way down her chest, his beard tickling her skin and sending shivers up her spine. He made a brief detour to nip at the underside of a breast before sliding lower and lower until he came to rest with his face happily nuzzling between her thighs.

“Oh,” Abby breathed, letting her hands fall to bury in his hair as he brushed his nose against her swollen clit, kissing his way up her wetness. She took a deep, shaky breath when she felt his lips slip around her clit and his tongue slowly begin to rub around the over stimulated bud while her legs trembled on either side of his eager face. Abby hadn’t had anything but her own touch for so long; it was a shock to feel something other than her own hand at her centre and she revelled in it, drinking in every scrape of Marcus’ beard against her thighs, every hungry lick of his tongue against her.

Marcus ate her with unabashed gusto. He held one of her thighs in his hand while he used the other to slip one, then two fingers into her and crook them forward while his tongue flicked and then lapped at her slippery clit.

Abby arched her hips into his face and tried to push herself harder against his tongue. Marcus obliged her silent request by sucking tightly on her clit for a moment before laying his tongue hard against it and rubbing messy, hard circles with the tip. Abby felt the tremors travel up from between her legs and spread like white-hot heat through her chest and she was coming, gloriously, crying out with the intensity of her orgasm.

Marcus placed tiny kisses against her as she came down. Abby grabbed his hair and pulled him upwards to kiss her taste from his mouth.

They didn’t speak. Communication between them was something they used to fail spectacularly at--shouting at one another while not hearing a thing the other had to say--but they’d come so far and changed so much that one look from Abby had Marcus lining himself and slowly, achingly pushing his cock inside her. She ran her hands up and down the flexing muscles of his back as he pulled out and thrust inside her again. Her fingers found the firm swell of his ass and she dug them in while lifting her legs to hold his hips tight between them, keeping him close while he smoothly glided in and out of her.

“Fuck, Abby.” Marcus breathed, bucking into her as she ran her hands up his back and grasped his shoulders.

He slipped his arms under her shoulders and cradled her head in his hands, lifting his head to kiss her. He let his tongue slip against hers as his hips moved him inside her and Abby chased the shape of his lips with her own, lost in the feeling of Marcus in her and surrounding her like he was a man willingly drowning in her depths.

Marcus broke away and rested his forehead against hers. He was speeding up, now, stretching her deliciously and pumping his hips faster and faster, plunging himself into her again and again. They breathed together as he approached his peak, and then Abby was crying out at the feeling of his clever fingers slipping between them to play her clit once more.

“Abby!” He gasped, thrusting into her, hard, before his hips stilled and he came inside her with a hoarse cry, his frantic fingers slipping against her clit just hard enough to bring her after him.

They both collapsed. Abby went boneless against the bed while Marcus’ trembling frame sunk his weight on top of her. She savoured the heavy feel of him covering her so completely--after weeks of being separated they were joined more intimately than they ever had been and it felt right, and Abby wanted to hold onto that feeling for as long as possible.

Marcus lifted his head just enough to press sweet kisses along her hairline and down her nose. He took her mouth in a gentle, deep kiss that said more to her than words possibly could.

Abby placed one last kiss to his lips and smiled up at him.

“I was afraid I wouldn’t see you again.”

Marcus’ answering laugh reverberated happily through both of their chests. He ducked his head and kissed her shoulder, whispering his answer into her skin.

“I had those fears myself.”

She smiled and looked up, past him, at the painting on the wall that he’d chosen to remind himself of her.

Abby finally saw the flowers.