The Leaf

Repeat

Raymond

Claire didn't waste time climbing him, so Raymond's hands didn't fight hers pinning him down, fingers tightening against the back of his hand to force him to close it -- which he did. She softened her grip in response as if afraid to force him, forgetting he was twice her size, and practically immortal.

The way his body responded to her, pulsing under her wetness when her legs tightened around him in the same rhythm, was very mortal. She let her weight on him, bringing her hair into his face, then her kiss, hungry for him. The her breasts grazed his chest, only to be squashed against it when she found a comfortable position.

Blonde hair kept their kiss isolated -- even with his eyes closed, wet strands tickled Raymond's face. He'd soon regret their feel, because they followed her down his body when her lips left his, her tongue gaining confidence on its way. She released his hands, knowing he'd stay put. His hands searched for her hair, the only part of her he could reach, then he relaxed into the mattress.

As usual, just as he thought he knew what she was going to do, Claire surprised him by pulling him upright into her arms, kissing him again, his arms going around her out of instinct, because he didn't really know what to do. He had the Claire Wesley folder, but he knew she wouldn't appreciate that intrusion. He already knew too much about her. And yet so little.

Unbothered by his hesitation, Claire kept her own rhythm, eyes closed, lost in her own sensations. It made Raymond close his too, his brain focused on remembering as much as he could. How she felt against him -- he would only get to live it once.

Claire wasn't a modern human -- her information was unavailable to him, no chance for a quick search and invitation to connect. Even her file was about the woman who'd already lived with Tony Wesley. Raymond also couldn't get real live data like with his other partners, a process that made sure everyone involved got what they wanted, optimized in real-time. Scenarios deciding the best course of action, helping one decide in their best interest. The chance to do it again, better. To remember it in full detail.

Kissing him, Claire got his attention again, lifting herself over his lap in preparation, her hands going around his head to bring his mouth where she wanted it: on her neck, pushing him down to kiss more of her, in better places.

Raymond would remember their time together through what he'd gathered about her so far. A movie in his head, like pre-modern humans.

Some smells, like the flower she smelled like -- which Raymond didn't detect very well and felt it was a betrayal to query his database for. Some feelings that would change over time or depending on his mood when thinking about them. What was now happiness -- her body soon to be one with his -- could feel like pain later. It was an uneasy risk, made better by taking it with her. He was lucky she was very memorable, he smiled over her breasts, making her stop.

Exhaling to prepare herself, Claire verified him with a searching look, like she did when she wanted to know something about him. Not about the future, but about him.

"Are you ready?" she asked, her voice telling him she was. Raymond appreciated the question, he'd never considered not being ready. He probably wasn't, but he didn't care.

Claire

Watching a porn movie where the -- male protagonist? She tilted her head to better see the action -- kept forcing himself on a woman spread face down on the bed -- was a new experience for Claire. Said woman had started out the scene reluctantly, but was now very willing to cooperate, her moans getting less and less desperate and more and more appreciative. It reminded Claire of the nights she'd also pretended unwilling.

Adding to the experience, her new lover -- a copy of her husband, actually a time traveller from the future -- was watching it with her, after they'd had sex, to be able to plan a new encounter. Her new normal, but Claire didn't mind.

Since they had actual 'work' planned, Raymond had dragged her in his arms once she was done trembling over his head, grasping at his hair -- she kept forgetting it was too short to grab. Out of breath, she was only half-bothered by the pause -- the half that liked men to want her more than she wanted them.

The first -- Claire would make sure there would be more -- round of their night together had been an unscripted ride through uncharted territory. Raymond let her lead, but she wasn't used to getting what she wanted in bed, so she grabbed him by his shoulders and straddled him mindlessly, hoping he'd like it too, despite her movements being only meant to bring her pleasure, using him to her purposes. She'd feared his usual controlled responses, so it was a relief that they worked in Claire's advantage: she liked his volcano calm, it made everything better.

She turned on her stomach, Raymond came closer to her, his hands taking the sheets off her, in a movement Claire could swear had been executed in constant speed, ending with only her lower half covered.

"It's how 2019 movies depict people sleep, after sex," he explained.

"So this is what's coming?" Claire showed the TV, "Monday night?" It felt weird to actually look forward to her husband getting back from work. Not exactly for the replay of the video, although she didn't fear it.

"We'll make it better, for you," Raymond said, his hands going over her back as if to show her where he'd be, taking her hand. "The first part you got right: you do initiate it, as he sits at the end of the bed. At some point, he pushes you back, gets up, throws you on the bed, turns you around, and..." He pointed to the TV in demonstration, because the scene had been exactly that, except for Claire's prologue, her own scenario. Apparently interrupted by rape.

"And this doesn't set off any of those future ethical alarms?"

"Actually, it's saved as one of your more... successful nights together. You both measured high," Raymond said in his usual monotone.

She didn't answer, not because she'd hoped to hide it from him, but because she felt some things she should be let to explain in her own words.

"You'll have your arms like this," his grip tightened around her hand. Claire's arms followed the line of her body, like the busty woman in the video kept hers. "And I'll keep you hand in mine. You'll have multiple ways to tell me if it hurts."

"I'm not afraid," Claire said, after a while. "I like pain, sometimes."

He wasn't surprised, so she probbed, "It's probably already in your files?"

"I read only what's necessary for the mission," Raymond said, somehow making her feel better. "I separate very well."

"Nothing bothers you?" she finally asked. "About me and Tony?"

"Not really," Raymond said. He then added, "I don't really understand possessive behavior. I know to you it's connected to love, but to me it's not. As I've said, I separate very well."

Jealousy made sense to Claire, mostly as leverage to use in her war with Tony, rendering him at his weakest.

"I sincerely hope there'll be more people who make you happy," Raymond said. "You should have that."