Bottle of whisky and a campervan

(Set a week and then a few months after The Final Chapter. Claire's POV)

It was around a week after releasing the antivirus, when we decided to pull in to a secluded area, allow ourselves a little respite. It had been just the two of us, taking it in turns to sleep on the single bed whilst travelling day and night in a dulled green 1970's Volkswagen campervan. That one night we got to drinking an old bottle of whisky we found in a brewery a few days back and sat side by side on the bed telling stories and laughing until we fell asleep there.

I was conscious of her even when sleeping. I felt her body against me, the weight of her arm on my chest, her mouth almost pressed against my jawline. We woke up together like that, and silently searched one another in the darkness. I understood her intentions before she lifted her head and pressed her mouth onto mine, I translated my desire without words, without a nod or a smile. We'd had many a look like that before, silently, privately, and we'd grown so use to it that sometimes it was all we needed.

We were removing clothes, and exploring newly revealed skin when she paused, her face hovering above mine, her breathing laboured from kissing. I read her thoughts as if spoken clearly from her lips, she was offering a moment of clarity to check this was what I wanted. I answered by gently reaching out for her hand and place it on my breast. It wasn't that she didn't know, we both knew, only we had gotten used to avoiding, and not giving in, maybe even denial. And not to mention that whisky bottle sat half empty on the side.

Her hand slipped between us to unbuckle my belt and I pushed my jeans down over my feet, all the while keeping contact with her lips - we smiled as we kissed, it took great skill, and I still don't know how we managed that!

First her thigh and then her hand, and more specifically her fingers. I was so quick to lose control, that I was embarrassed and laughed softly against the pillow as I recovered below her. She pressed her lips against my ear and whispered, "you want more?" And I felt her lips break into a smile against my cheek. I shifted beneath her, "like I'm never gonna get enough" I said gently before catching her lips and forcing her up into a kneeling position on top of me. I watched her forehead crease, her eyes close, her mouth open as my hand disappeared beyond the lining of her underwear.

I'd seen her body bend and move in a such a way when fighting, seen her hang from ropes, defy gravity, spinning off buildings and all with such elegance and grace, but I wasn't prepared for how beautiful she looked when she lost herself, so venerable, desperate, and honest. Her body with all its scars, cuts and bruises, was driven by my touch. Every look, moan, and thrust.

We fell asleep wrapped up in each other, hot skin, limbs entwined and woke as lovers, recalling moments with smiles as we got ready to drive west. That same day we found survivors who joined us as we drove across country searching for fuel and resources. As the numbers grew so did our focus, we both knew that there was too much work to do.

"Hey" she touches my hand lovingly as she passes me, and looks over her shoulder as she walks on, not a step out of place. I smile, and she arches her eyebrow, and I know she knows what I was thinking about. And I can tell by the way she looks at me, with a sense of promise, and hope, that as soon as we get the basics in place, we will have some time to be together again.