Title: Safe harbour
Author: Bev *too*
Beta: Speed aka White_Wolf, *hugs*, thank's kiddo.
Fandom/Pairing: Sylum, Nick/Warrick
Sylumchallenge: #065 "Furry Friends"
Rating: PG
Summary: Warrick's living through a storm and comes into his cabin where he finds a surprise...
A/N: Written on a stormy crossing on my way to sicily. That was no fun ... *gets slightly green around the edges just by thinking about it*...nonono ... no fun at all.

Warrick was dead on his feet as he stumbled into his cabin.

The storm had lasted more than two days. Two days without sleep, two days of making sure his crew were safe. Two days of constant worry about his men and his Mate Nick, who was in his cabin. He might be a vampire who was over 1000 years old but he was definitely not a man of the sea. So Warrick had ordered him to remain in the cabin; safe. If necessary he would personally knock him out and tie him down if he should even consider following him.

Now he came back to Nick. After two days without any food or rest he was about to collapse, and he only hoped that Nick hadn't somehow managed to sneak out.

He hadn't. The moment Warrick opened the door to his quarters, Nick raised his head from the pillow and looked at him. Dark brown eyes rested lovingly on him, and a voice like silk and honey whispered, "There you are love. Finally. Come to bed."

~*~

Warrick undressed without his eyes ever leaving his Mate. Nick's gaze caressed the long, sinewy body of his lover, drinking in the sight of the dark skin, the broad shoulders. But he also saw the tired face, and the slight tremble of his Mate’s exhausted posture.

He wanted to get up. Wanted to go over to Warrick, take him in his arms, hold him, and kiss away those last few days but right now he couldn't.

So he simply waited until Warrick had stripped naked, and come over to join him.

~*~

Warrick was amazed at the self restraint his lover showed. Usually he would have jumped him by now. When he reached the bed, Nick grabbed his wrist to keep him from simply dropping down onto the cot. The pirate frowned slightly, but then, with a little smile, Nick lifted the covers of their bed, and for a moment Warrick was speechless.

There on the bed, curled up in Nick's favorite shirt, was Cecily, the ship's cat. And she was not alone. In one of the worst night's Warrick had ever endured, the little grey tabby cat had given birth to her kittens. Purring, she looked up at Warrick and meowed quietly. Curled up next to her were five blind little furballs. Warrick was speechless.

How very Nick, to take Cecily into their bed so she could become her babies in safety.

Then he took a closer look at the shirt, Cecily was resting on. Surprised he gazed at his Mate. Carefully, so as not to disturb the little family, he lifted up one corner of the garment.

"Nick ... isn't this your favorite shirt?"

Nick blushed slightly, and shrugged. "She liked it," he said simply.

Without another word, Warrick climbed in next to Nick, took him in his arms and kissed him deeply.

"I love you, Nico," he whispered before yawning widely.

Smiling tenderly, Nick reciprocated the kiss, and pulled his Mate closer. Warrick was asleep within seconds.

~*~

Nick watched his Mate sleeping. He held him close, could feel his still too tense muscles that slowly began to relax. The long hours of worry and hard work were now beginning to show.

Nick pulled him even closer, and tucked the covers up around him. He could feel the pirate's fatigue through their Bond. And he'd also felt his surprise when he had seen Cecily and her babies rolled up in his shirt.

He gazed down at the cat. Yes, it had been his favorite shirt. It had been special to him because someone special had made it for him. Because Warren had made it for him such a long time ago. For decades this shirt had been everything to him. After Warren's death – after his brutal killing – this shirt had been one of the little things that had kept him sane. Then Warrick had come into his life. After turning him – knowing that he would be with him for the rest of their lives – this shirt had become the memory of a man that had been for a short period of time a part of his life.

He watched as Cecily woke up; saw how she nursed her babies, cleaned them, cared for them. And he smiled.

Warrick hadn't been surprised to find the cat in their bed but his astonishment had come because she was resting on that special shirt.

He scratched her lightly behind one ear, and she closed her eyes, and enjoyed the loving gesture with a loud purr.

In his sleep, Warrick cuddled closer and the noise he made sounded suspiciously like a purr, too.

Nick smiled, and closed his eyes, content to love and be loved.

End