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Before a fateful moon could wax in full, and before the trees of Petalburg Woods would wither before an onslaught of blight and decay, Elisabeth answered a knock at her door.[break][break]

"Mon oiseau," she breathed out as the door opened, revealing the dark-haired man in the downpour. The sound of it left her smiling despite herself as she leaned against the doorway.[break][break]

It was a name that felt like a secret between them. This part of him -- the part of him that hid away from the past they shared -- felt the most real to her.[break][break]

Maybe that was what she loved most about him: all the ways in which he was like her, but more than that, all the ways in which he was nothing like anyone she had ever known.[break][break]

That discovery had frightened her, once. She'd run away from him that spring day, burying her own desires like they were something that could be left to die and rot.[break][break]

Tonight, she departed the safety and warmth of her doorway, letting the water wash over her as she crossed the distance between them, barefoot. Her nightgown wetly clung to her body, a flimsy barrier against the elements, as she reached for him in the wind and rain.[break][break]

Pale hands found his, pulling him close to her so that he'd feel the flutter of her heartbeat matching his own.[break][break]

Tousled blonde hair betrayed her hours of restlessness; no drowsy languor manifested itself in the way her head tilted up towards his, her emerald eyes attuned to every minute shift in his expression. She looked up at him in kind, open and unabashed in her wanting.[break][break]

"I can't sleep," she confessed, and before he could steal her quiet resolve, she kissed him.

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My bird.[break][break]

Here he didn't have to play a part. The flamboyant trappings of Barnaby Finch could be cast aside, the professional façade of Admin Bee forgotten.[break][break]

He could be himself with her, here, in the downpour. Or... an approximation of it. Truthfully, it had become harder and harder to distinguish Barnaby L'oiseau from the rest as his time and experiences in Hoenn deepened. But Elisabeth Fiorelli reminded him of someone below the layers.[break][break]

"Mon fleur..." He'd whisper into her lips after their kiss subsided. In the seconds that they'd shared intertwined, his hands had pulled her close – one gripping her waist, the other locked in her water-soaked curls.[break][break]

When he looked down at Elisa, at the obvious longing in her emerald eyes, Barnaby knew what she wanted. Finally. And he was going to savor every last moment of her surrender.[break][break]

"You'll catch a cold out here," He spoke softly, as if she really were a delicate plumeria flower meant to be cherished. "Let's go inside."[break][break]

Blinking away stray drops of rain, he swept her up into his arms and carried her through the open threshold of the cottage, letting the weathered door creak closed behind them. There was no hesitance in the way he moved through her home: past the kitchen, across the living room, and up the stairs into her small bedroom.

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She was so tired of lying. To men, to herself.[break][break]

All the reasons she had fled his company became the excuses she reached for him now.[break][break]

As he gathered her into his arms, she clung to him the way the drowning clung to shore. Her legs wrapped around his waist, ankles delicately linking behind his back, as his hands pulled her body into his. Her own hands encircled his face, drawing him into a prolonged kiss as they stumbled into her bedroom.[break][break]

Was it wrong, to want him as much as she did?[break][break]

Her fingers strayed from his jawline to the collar of his shirt as her lips trailed kisses down his neck. It was selfish to call him here, she knew: an impulsive and reckless desire, with consequences she had yet to comprehend for herself, much less him.[break][break]

But maybe he was selfish, too.

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BARNABY FINCH had always been selfish.[break][break]

He rarely did things that didn't also benefit himself in some way. This type of encounter... well, was a classic example.[break][break]

She was ravenous for his touch, but Barnaby had been so patient up until this point, there was no use in stopping now. As always, he couldn't help but tease poor Elisabeth Fiorelli.[break][break]

"Elisa..." He breathed out after one more kiss, his desire inwardly tempered – but just barely. [break][break]

"We need to get you out of those wet clothes." Where her hand strayed to his collar, he pulled back, unfastening his shirt by a few buttonholes so that she'd get the idea of what he wanted.[break][break]

Then... Barnaby released her. Let her slowly slide down the wall he'd pressed her against. And placed his hands around her waist, his fingers sliding beneath the fabric and traveling upwards.[break][break]

It was going to be a long, long night. He'd make sure of it. This was too rare an opportunity not to indulge for as long as possible.

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Too much of Elisabeth's life had been wasted on waiting. She'd become exceptionally patient only because life had forced her to be. Poisoners were not known for their expediency, but rather, their slow, insidious methods.[break][break]

Yet when she craved immediacy at last, her willful stubbornness reared its head: uncaged from the bonds of restraint.[break][break]

"It's not like you to be considerate," she murmured as he denied her hands their initial advance, frustration mounting behind her otherwise light, teasing words as her back met the wall.[break][break]

A shiver traveled through her at the touch of his hands on her skin, the translucent fabric of what little she wore carelessly cast aside and scattered like lily-white petals on the floor.[break][break]

She faced him with an intensity of focus, undaunted, as she reached for his loose shirt to lure him close to her once more.[break][break]

"Nor is it like you to be timid," she added softly, fingertips rejecting the tedium of buttons as they moved to remove his garment in its entirety. Delicate palms met toned muscle -- something she'd always known him to possess, and yet, found herself surprised to discover in the reality of flesh and blood.[break][break]

And then her hands moved lower, insistent in their demand.

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It's not like you to be considerate.[break][break]

While the comment stung his ego a bit, Barnaby's self-satisfied expression gave none of this away. Elisabeth Fiorelli didn't know, after all, how considerate he could be to his partners. But she would learn.[break][break]

"Am I not allowed to savor the moment?"[break][break]

With her damp garments cast to the floor, there was much to be appreciated. In the past when Barnaby's desire had swelled for her, he'd sometimes picture what the supple curve of her body might have looked like, or the ways in which his touch might have elicited some primal response.[break][break]

Now, taking her in in her most stark and vulnerable state, all those fantasies seemed so dull and mundane in comparison. [break][break]

"Don't mistake indulgence for timidity, Elisa." [break][break]

Fingers fumbled with buttons until his shirt, too, found its way to the floor. Only his pants remained, though Elisa wasted no time in prying at those next.[break][break]

He leaned in, pressing his hips against her so that she'd be unable to unzip and reveal the thing she wanted most in this moment. Not yet.[break][break]

"I want to take my time with you tonight." A whispered promise in her ear, reinforced by a slow, deliberate trail of kisses starting at the crook of her jaw and down to her collarbone. When he'd reached the pinnacle of what standing could allow, Barnaby braced his hands at the fleshy dip of her hips and buckled to his knees.[break][break]

He continued in his descent until his lips found purchase on something that was sure to begin quelling Elisa's insistent desires — or perhaps just aggravate them more.[break][break]

It would be fun to find out which it was.

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"That makes you a cruel thief indeed," she whispered back into his ear, winding her arms around his neck as she butterflied a kiss across his cheek. "Time, mon oiseau, is the most precious thing any of us possess."[break][break]

It wasn't the way his mouth claimed her that first ignited her need, nor was it the pressing of his hips against her own -- although both stoked the flames of passion in her, that warmth steadily building with each kiss peppered across her bare flesh.[break][break]

No, that first spark of desire had been kindled by the unfelt touch of his lingering gaze on her body, eliciting a flush of heat that felt almost innocent in its sudden, overwhelming intensity.[break][break]

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It was if some knot in herself uncoiled and untangled with each promise that his lips burned across her skin, worshipping her despite all the reasons he shouldn't. More than perhaps anyone in Hoenn, he should have understood that she was undeserving of care and affection; it was a truth she'd reconciled herself to, long before she'd met him.[break][break]

None of it dissuaded his relentless advance to prove to her otherwise.[break][break]

"Barnaby," she pleaded as he unexpectedly moved to unsteady her, only for the sound of his name to lose itself in a gasp that shuddered through her whole body. A leg snaked over his right shoulder, desperate to anchor herself, as her hands gathered in his long, dark hair.[break][break]

She breathed out his name again in the silence, but softer this time, aching with unmistakable need.

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They were beyond words now, save for the moaning of inconsequential ejaculations. The sounds were igniting, egging on BARNABY FINCH as he continued to serve Elisabeth Fiorelli on his knees. Her pleas were heard and acknowledged, thoroughly, until the feeling of release washed over his friend.[break][break]

After a moments pause to let her ease back down, he'd then hitch Elisa's other leg over his shoulder and rise to his feet, arms securely wrapped around her so that there was no risk of falling. Surely she'd wind her arms around him in turn to guarantee that. [break][break]

At the same time, Barnaby pulled her in, kissing her with an intensity that accentuated his burning need as he guided them both to the bed. They'd tumble into the sheets together, breathless in their embrace.[break][break]

Barnaby would end up on top, his legs straddling either side of Elisabeth's hips, their lips still hungry for one another. It was difficult to pull away from their kiss, but he felt so close to bursting he had to relieve the constraint.[break][break]

Leaning up, Barnaby was blessed with an immaculate view of Elisabeth Fiorelli beneath him. Seeing her like this... fuck, it was hard to temper himself. He'd promised restraint but found it more and more difficult to remain true to his word. [break][break]

"Elisa..." He whispered, his voice rough with need.[break][break]

Barnaby unzipped his pants.

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A haze of bliss washed over her as Barnaby released her at last, leaving her dizzy and lightheaded as she was lifted up from against the wall. How weightless she felt in his arms, as if they were floating together as they fell down into pillows and blankets.[break][break]

An airy laugh escaped from her as she smiled up at him -- each ensuing kiss needier than the last as she sought to hold all of his body close against her own.[break][break]

When his lips pulled away from hers, that rosy smile remained, her emerald eyes unwilling to release his own as they drank in those fathomless depths of cobalt blue. Had she always noticed how beautiful his eyes were? Surely she could have never hated that reporter, 'Barnaby Finch,' so much if she had.[break][break]

Her heart sang as he whispered her name again, though she didn't understand why. All she cared about was how she felt, in this moment. How he made her feel.[break][break]

Elisabeth wanted him to feel something, in return.[break][break]

She rose up from her place on the bed, kneeling upright as her hands moved to dismiss his own. The years that had built so many walls within her had melted away; left behind was the wild recklessness of a long-forgotten youth, sparking mischief and daring in her eyes. Deft fingers hooked into belt loops as she pressed a light kiss to the exposed curve of his hip, soft and fleeting.[break][break]

"I want you," she whispered against his skin, no trace of fear in the words as she freed him of his constraints. Another kiss promised the same, venturing lower this time. "I've always wanted you."[break][break]

Neither of them had any patience left to give. She arched her body towards his as she guided them both, eager and willing to meet him as the two entwined as one.[break][break]

He wasn't someone she belonged to, and he didn't belong to her, either.[break][break]

Theirs was simply a belonging.

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"I know." Implicitly, the reverence in BARNABY FINCH's eyes as he looked up at Elisabeth Fiorelli betrayed his own truth: he'd wanted her, too.[break][break]

All of her. And it showed in the way his arms encircled her as she climbed into his lap, in the way his breath caught when their bodies came together as one.[break][break]

"Fuck." Barnaby moaned into Elisa's collarbone, biting at the tender flesh there. "You feel better than I ever imagined."[break][break]

They'd continue fleshing out this new truth until light bloomed above the trees and filtered in through the open window.[break][break]

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A light, early morning breeze ruffled the curtains at either side of Elisa's bedroom window. It carried to her bed, where both she and BARNABY FINCH laid tangled together, having exhausted themselves the previous night.[break][break]

Covered in only a thin sheet, he held her cradled in his arms.[break][break]

"Mmm..." Barnaby mumbled into Elisa's golden curls. Still half-asleep, he unconsciously pulled her closer into the curve of his body.

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She wasn't used to this, waking up from pleasant dreams.[break][break]

Dawn broke through the window, attempting to awaken her to her usual morning routine. Instead, a selfishness took hold of Elisabeth as she curled into herself, unwilling to open her eyes in case the hazy image of the past night vanished and dispersed in the day.[break][break]

All traces of happiness seemed to inevitably leave her, in that way.[break][break]

Then a welcome weight pressed against her as Barnaby's arm draped around her waist, the drowsy sound of his voice in her tangled hair causing her eyes to flutter open in surprise.[break][break]

He was still here. He hadn't left her.[break][break]

She bit her lip, suppressing a sudden smile at this discovery as his arms wound tighter around her, pulling her into the warmth of his embrace. The familiar scent of lavender and sandalwood comforted her as she breathed it in.[break][break]

"Good morning," she murmured, rolling over to press a kiss to his forehead. A hand gently brushed the dark strands of hair from his eyes, revealing his face in the morning light. "Did you sleep well?"[break][break]

There was a teasing lilt to her words, soft as they were.

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Her kiss goaded a groggy smile to Barnaby's lips.[break][break]

This tenderness was new — foreign, for the most part, in their relationship up until this point. She didn't shy away from his touch now; if anything, she craved it. As did he.[break][break]

"Better than I have in a long time." He confessed; and that was the truth. For once, the nightmares that had plagued his dreams in the last year had stayed away. Was this Elisabeth Fiorelli's doing? Or simply just the exhaustion from their hours spent together?[break][break]

"And you? I hope I was able to help you sleep..." That was the excuse that had gotten him here last night, after all.[break][break]

As he spoke, Barnaby brought a gentle yet insistent hand to her waist, pulling her closer until their bare bodies touched. It was late morning now and he was already feeling the vigor that usually came at this hour, not to mention an urge to continue where they'd left off...[break][break]

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"Is that what you were trying to do?" Elisabeth asked, a playful laugh answering him as he drew her near. Almost covetously, she wound herself around him, her legs brushing against his own. She smiled as she covered his neck in light, soft kisses. "I don't recall much sleeping."[break][break]

All of her body ached for his closeness.[break][break]

Perhaps she'd always craved this tender intimacy from him; perhaps that's why she'd known to run from it so fiercely, starving herself of his touch. This unnamed emotion consumed her, drowning her in a flood of contented happiness that nothing in her knew how to temper.[break][break]

"I slept well," Elisabeth conceded, her fingers toying with his long dark hair as she nestled herself into the crook of his shoulder. "But I think," she added quietly, her hand straying to draw invisible shapes on his skin, "I much prefer having something worth waking up to."[break][break]

It frightened her a little, to feel this safe with him.[break][break]

Far too late, as she hesitantly looked up into his cobalt eyes, Elisabeth tried to remind herself not to latch onto him too tightly. She could indulge now, but later, things could be different. He could bore of this; he could tire of her; he could find others' company preferable to her own.[break][break]

He was her bird, but inevitably, birds flew away.

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