Epilogue: My baby don't mess around (Because she loves me so)

She pushes her head down further into her pillow, muttering under her breath and swatting at the annoying fluttering against her cheek. There's a low laugh and then she feels the slow drag of a thumb against her bottom lip, gentle and smooth. She shifts and pulls back, turning her head and stilling abruptly when her face sticks against a book. She blinks her heavy eyes open in confusion, frowning when she sees she's still at the table – law books strewn around her in chaos.

Studying. Right.

Her eyes drift up to Killian standing over her, watching her with a soft smile on his face, black hair in total chaos. He's still in his scrubs – pale blue that brings out his eyes even more, the bastard – and she sighs happily when his fingers dance along her jaw to her neck. Her eyes close again because she's tired, so tired.

"Bastard." She mutters because he knows how those scrubs make him look, knows how the nurse aids whisper and lust after him. She brought him lunch once and endured the fiery stare of a flock of women at her back, practically burning her to the ground as he leaned forward and caught her lips with his. There was even one scary intense male nurse with cropped blonde hair staring daggers at her as Killian happily munched away on his chicken salad sandwich – practically vibrating in his apparent distaste for her. She half feared for her life after she left him and walked through the parking lot, expecting a nurse to stab her in the jugular with a needle.

Or scalpel. She knows how crafty those women are.

He chuckles again as she nuzzles further into the table, a soft, surprised sound lodged in his throat. His hands slip under her knees and around her back and she barely has time to protest before he's lifting her up and away from the table. Her cheek sticks to her book until the very last second (gross) and she groans as he tucks her into his chest, turning and walking them down the hall to their bedroom.

"Is that anyway to greet your boyfriend after he pulled a 48 hour shift without rest?" His voice is rough and gravelly and her fingers slip into the hair at the nape of his neck. Her thumb rubs back and forth gently and she breathes him in, tucking her nose into the warm skin of his neck. He smells like lemons and generic clinical cleaner, but the faint spice of him lingers and she presses a kiss against his collarbone.

"Blue makes you prettier." She mutters and she wishes she possessed a verbal filter but she is exhausted, law school kicking her ass and making her loopy. He hums lightly against her hair, smile curling his lips as he places her down in the bed and she immediately spreads out, curling onto her side and kicking underneath the covers. His fingers trail down her arm and she reaches for him, trying to tug him down next to her.

"Shower first, love." He whispers into her ear, pressing a light kiss at the skin beneath. She shivers and her stomach flips - even despite her exhaustion - and she grips his arm harder. "You wouldn't believe the amount of catheters I placed during my shift."

She releases him immediately, pushing him lightly towards the bathroom. "Gross." She mutters and he laughs. Seconds later she hears the water start in the bathroom and his quiet padding across the tile. Consciousness returns to her as she listens to him get ready for bed – the dresser sliding open as he comes out of the bathroom, a warm cloud of steam accompanying him.

When he finally slides under the blankets next to her she scoots into him, curling herself around his body – his skin warm and soft from the shower. He pulls her closer with an arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss against her temple.

"I don't like sleeping without you, love." He says it quietly, reverently, breathing it into her skin with another brush of his lips. She smiles lightly and presses her own against the hollow of his throat, throwing her leg over his and pulling them closer together.

"Me neither." She replies. They relax into one another, bodies shifting and sliding until she doesn't know where she ends and he begins. His fingers trail lightly over her arm in a caress and her eyelids flutter, sleep pulling at her tired and exhausted mind like a siren.

Until it doesn't.

A low moan sounds loud above their heads, practically a screech in the quiet stillness of the apartment. A rhythmic knocking starting seconds later - the tap tap tap of a bedpost knocking against the wall. His body jolts against her – clearly on the verge of sleep – and her eyes slide open to find his brows furrowing in confusion.

Another moan joins the first, the tapping becoming louder and more incessant. Killian scowls and she laughs because, really, this is just poetic.

"Not so peaceful is it?"

He blinks at her as the porno next door increases in fervor and a slow, sinful smirk works its way over his lips. His hand lands on her hip and he pushes her over onto her back, sliding over her and pinning her down with his body. His lips fall to her neck as he ruts lightly against her and she hooks her foot behind his knee, pulling him down further. Heat coils low in her belly because it's him and it's them and jesus – he will always affect her in this way.

She moans lightly when he nips at her pulse point, arching into him as his hand finds her breast, thumb stroking purposefully over sensitive skin.

"How about we show them how it's done, darling?"

She grins into his lips.