A Country Girl Can Survive

Beta?

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Thu, 16 Jul 2009 06:28:13 GMT

I don't particularly think that this applies to my flist but I thought I'd ask just in case... is anyone interested in betaing my Heroes oneshot? I'm having trouble finding one. It's Peter/Claire, NC17, and 4000 words. Thanks all *hugs flist* ;).

Comments are screened incase anyone would like to leave their e-mail address :).

fic meme

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Wed, 08 Jul 2009 17:52:05 GMT

Good morning all ;)... a little meme snagged from leobrat.

Inspired by Doctor Who's "Turn Left:" Pick one of my stories and tell me a point in the tale that you'd change. Something tiny (e.g. "and then Fay chose silver glitter instead of gold") or big (e.g. "and then Rose was arrested instead of Jack") and I'll tell you how that one difference would have altered the course of the entire story.

All of my fic can be found using the fanfiction tag, or if you'd prefer you can search by fandom (all tags are to the right in my sidebar).

hp_cross_fest, weasley_fest

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Fri, 03 Jul 2009 22:51:51 GMT

Just doing some quick pimping... hp_cross_festis holding a prompt grab this year and though I forgot to pimp before submitting prompts actually ended, prompt claiming starts tomorrow (July 4th). *cheers and makes lists of prompts*

Also, posting for weasley_feststarted a few days ago and the fics so far have been absolutely FANTASTIC! Everything from Charlie/Teddy to George/Hermione has so far been posted, and there's definitely something for everyone :). I didn't pay a lot of attention to this fest last year (though I wrote for it) but this year I'm making up for lost time. *waves the Weasley flag*

One more thing... happy soon-to-be Independence Day to all my fellow Americans out there! :).

"Once Upon a Memory," Albus Severus/Scorpius

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Sat, 27 Jun 2009 06:52:30 GMT

Title: Once Upon a Memory
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: Adult
Pairing(s): Albus Severus/Scorpius
Summary: McGonagall had a plan to “fix” the animosity between Gryffindors and Slytherins, and it worked better than she ever imagined possible.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction set in the Harry Potter universe – all recognisable characters and settings are the property of J. K. Rowling and her associates. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work
Warning(s): Boy kissing and other naughty boy things (both boys are 17) ;).
Word Count: 8546
Author's Notes: For sesheta_66during the second year of hp_rarities; thank you to softly_sweetlyfor betaing ;).

Once Upon a Memory

The altercation started with snide words about cheating in the last Quidditch game, a few well-placed sneers, and then before Albus could even think about ducking, Scorpius Malfoy’s fist was flying into his face, effectively rearranging his nose. The blow had hit him square on, breaking his nose and spewing bright red blood down the front of Al’s robes. Scorpius had gotten one other hit before Albus managed to hit him back, leaving a dark bruise on the blond’s pointy chin. The fight had been quickly broken up by an irate Professor Longbottom, who had muttered about “some things never changing.”

The fight had happened near the end of sixth year Herbology, so Professor Longbottom dismissed the rest of the class and walked them to the hospital wing to see to their injuries. After Albus’ nose was healed Neville sent him straight up to McGonagall’s office as it wasn’t the first time they had been caught fighting. Scorpius was still whining about the pain in his jaw when Albus left, marching sluggishly to the Headmistress’s office.

Only a half-an-hour after the fight had occurred, he was sitting in the headmistress’s office awaiting punishment, trying to ignore the odd phantom pain in his nose; even though his nose had been healed it still ached a little, as if it remembered being broken and couldn’t understand where the blinding pain had gone. Al hated to admit it, but Scorpius Malfoy sure did have one hell of a right hook.

This certainly wasn’t the first time he had visited Professor McGonagall’s office and Al highly doubted it would be the last time either. All of the portraits knew him by name and would often wave at him in greeting whenever he was called to stand before McGonagall; Professor Dumbledore’s portrait was always particularly chatty, asking him how his family was doing and if there was anything new happening at Hogwarts. Al liked talking to Dumbledore, finding him oddly quirky and not at all like he expected a man of his prestige to act. Next to Dumbledore’s portrait was the portrait of Severus Snape, he never spoke directly to Al but rather glowered at him and muttered about that “stupid Potter boy having the last word.”

Hearing a scraping noise behind him, Al turned and watched as Malfoy and McGongall entered. He was pleased to see that even though Malfoy’s wounds had been healed his shirt still had a blood stain running down the front. On the other hand, Al was not pleased by the look on McGonagall’s face; for all of the years that McGonagall had worked at Hogwarts she always had a reputation of being strict but the look on her face now was different; she seemed disappointed and almost defeated.

Malfoy took the seat next to his, glaring at Al as he did so. McGonagall took her seat behind the desk and rested her gaze on the two young men, her fingers laced together and her elbows on her desk.

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, do you know why we teach history at Hogwarts?” she asked, her eyebrows raised almost to her hairline as she watched their reactions.

Albus blinked at her, confused by the question, wondering what Professor McGonagall was getting at. He didn’t know why they taught History of Magic, even without Binns teaching the class, it was still boring; if Al was going to be honest he wanted to say that they taught history to give the students of Hogwarts a couple extra hours of sleep a day.

When neither of them replied to her, she did it for them. “We teach history in the hopes that the new generation will learn from the past generation’s mistakes. But, sadly, that doesn’t seem to be working.”

Al shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the way McGonagall was looking at him. He knew what she was talking about now, it didn’t take a genius to know that she wasn’t happy with their fight.

“Tell me something, do your parents ever talk about the war?” McGonagall asked, her fingers beginning to tap against each other in a slow, steady rhythm.

The two young men stiffened before Scorpius opened his mouth for the first time to speak. His voice was oddly tight and quiet. “My father doesn’t speak of it, and I am not allowed to ask him about it.”

McGonagall nodded, not one strand of her grey hair moving from its tight bun as she turned her gaze back towards Al, expecting an answer. “My mum and dad don’t like to talk about it, I think it hurts them,” he whispered, his eyes quickly traveling over to the boy sitting beside him before darting back, hoping that he hadn’t been caught looking. Albus had the feeling that this was just as uncomfortable for Scorpius as it was for him and he was curious about the look on the Slytherin’s face.

She seemed to expect that answer and nodded again. “Often times the pain of regret is just as strong as the pain of losing loved ones,” she spoke, and Al’s eyes traveled to Dumbledore’s portrait, who was nodding and looking pleased while Snape rolled his eyes and grumbled.

Scorpius tensed even further in his chair and this time he did not relax, he knew that the Professor was talking about his father and he didn’t like where the conversation was likely going to go.

“Can you tell me what the war that took place before either of you were born was really about?”

Al opened and closed his mouth like a fish, confused by the out-of-the-blue question. “The war was about defeating Voldemort,” he finally sputtered out, what else would it be about? he wanted to add, but didn’t.

Scorpius nodded beside him, “I’ll go along with that.”

McGonagall nodded her head once. “That is what I thought you would both say.” She stared at them both for a moment, her gaze tense and calculating, and Al shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “You’re both so young,” she began again, the tone of her voice serious, “but seeing the continued animosity between the houses of Gryffindor and Slytherin has made me see that the war will never really end until we teach the next generation the proper lesson. If we do not stay united then we will surely fall.

“Your housemates, and yourselves, are repeating history, like a constant loop of time. I had hoped that with Voldemort’s fall, the loop would have faltered but I see now that it hasn’t. We must act now before our horrific history repeats itself.”

Albus fidgeted and glanced over at Scorpius again, wondering if he knew what McGonagall was getting at. This time he caught Scorpius’ gaze and the blond boy shrugged, seeming to understand what Al was asking. The two young men watched as McGonagall stood to her feet, her steps slow with her increasing age. She walked over to the cabinet next to her desk and opened it, revealing an old stone basin, covered in what Al recognized as old runes.

“Do you know what this is?” she asked them, gesturing to the basin she had just revealed.

Beside Al, Scorpius nodded. “It’s a pensieve, Professor McGonagall.”

“That’s right Mr. Malfoy it is; do you know what it does?” she asked, waving her wand at the pensieve. With a slightly precarious shake it rose a few inches above the wood before floating to McGonagall’s desk, slowly coming to rest before the two confused boys.

Scorpius looked from the pensieve before to the headmistress. “It’s a magical receptacle that stores and lets the user review the memories contained.”

McGonagall gave one short, curt nod before sitting back down at her desk across from Albus and Scorpius. “This pensieve contains many memories that I and the previous owner collected… and I think it’s important that you two see these things; if your fathers were here, I think they would agree with me.”

Albus took a deep breath and stared at the pensieve, apprehension filling him.

“When you are viewing the memories, remember that not everything is as it appears. History and life are about inconsistencies and surprises; viewing the memories this way instead of reading about them in a textbook based primarily on fact and not emotion, will help you to understand what really happened. In a book you can read the number of causalities, their names might even be listed, but that is all you get from a book, you don’t understand about the tears we shed and all of the young lives lost.” McGonagall’s voice had grown strangely deep as the normally strong woman fought back tears; her eyes had taken on a slightly glazed, faraway expression as she remembered all of the students she hadn’t been able to save. “While I still have breath left in my body, I won’t let it happen again.” Her voice had grown quiet and both boys had to struggle to hear her, they knew that she wasn’t necessarily speaking to them anymore. “We’re stronger together than we are apart.”

Al and Scorpius shared a look, Al’s broken nose and Scorpius’ bruised jaw forgotten, as they both wondered exactly what McGonagall was getting at. Neither of them had ever seen the Headmistress act so oddly.

She snapped out of whatever mood she had been in and turned to look directly at the boys, her eyes stern. “You will not be punished for fighting, instead you will meet with me every other night starting tomorrow for your new lessons.”

Albus held in his groan, he’d much rather get detention with Professor Longbottom than have one-on-one lessons with McGonagall… and with Scorpius Malfoy of all people.

“I expect you both here directly after dinner, and if I hear anything more about you two fighting the punishment will be swift. Are we understood?” The two boys nodded. “You may not be Prefects but that does not mean as Sixth Years you do not set an example for your younger housemates.” She looked at them pointedly once more, assessing their looks of contempt at the idea of having lessons together. It was going to be an uphill battle, but an essential one in the end. “You are both dismissed.”

The two boys rose and left, mumbled goodbye and glared at each other once they were back in the corridor. Scorpius spoke first, scoffing as he faced his enemy. “This is all your fault Potter,” he snapped before stomping away, leaving Albus behind glowering at the Slytherin’s retreating figure. He wanted to yell after the other boy angrily but he couldn’t think of an appropriately cruel remark and so he stomped off in the opposite direction.

Back in McGonagall’s office, Dumbledore’s portrait was nodding, pleased at the direction that everything was going in; though he was made of paint, even his blue eyes seemed to twinkle. “I think you did quite well Minerva.”

McGonagall gave an uncharacteristic sigh and glanced at the Dumbledore’s portrait. “I truly hope everything goes well Dumbledore

****

The next night after dinner, Albus immediately headed to McGonagall’s office, not wanting to be late and receive further punishment from the Headmistress. The corridors were mostly empty, nearly everyone was still in the Great Hall, eating; the only ones he passed were a few snogging couples in the shadows, trying to sneak a few moments of privacy.

He was the first to reach the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the Headmistress’s office and it immediately opened to him, seeming to know that he was coming. Al walked up the winding staircase and all too quickly reached the last door; he knocked and at McGonagall’s “come in” he opened the door. Like he had expected, he was first, Malfoy wasn’t there yet and the room was empty besides McGonagall. Placed at the far end of her desk, closest to where he knew he and Scorpius would sit, sat the pensieve.

“Good evening Mr. Potter, you may take a seat,” she greeted, gesturing to one of the chairs opposite her.

He took the same chair he had yesterday out of habit and sat down quietly to wait for the 'lesson' to begin. He looked around the office as he waited, like he had done the previous day. Dumbledore was in his portrait, napping, but Snape wasn’t there at all. Al could remember the first time he had encountered Severus Snape’s portrait, it had been his first year and he had been in McGonagall’s office for throwing one of Professor Longbottom’s gardening pots at Scorpius’ head. Al had always had an idea of what the man would be like, and it was nothing like the cantankerous man that seemed to dislike him just because of his last name, which to Al seemed very unfair.

Only a few minutes after Al arrived, Scorpius finally made an appearance. McGonagall invited him in and Scorpius took the last seat next to Albus, his nose turned up until the line of his sight was almost perpendicular to the stone ceiling. Al frowned and rolled his eyes. Stinking Malfoy, he thought, always putting on airs.

Al looked around the room once more and noticed that Dumbledore was now wide awake and if an old man can bounce, then he was certainly nearly vibrating in his chair with excitement. Snape was back and looking bored, slouching in his chair until his chin rested on his chest.

“Excellent, now that you’re both here, we will get started,” McGonagall said, referring to the two boys across from her. She stood and opened one of the glass cabinets next to her desk, pulling out a small, corked bottle filled with a silvery blue substance. She uncorked it and tipped it into the pensieve, making Al realize that it was an interesting cross between a gas and a liquid. “This is a memory that I have collected that I think you should both see.” A frown crossed her face for a moment, and her eyes tightened. “There are multiple layers to this memory, parts of it may shock you, but I believe that you are both strong enough to be able to… handle it. If you ever want to leave the memory just say Prior Incantatum, and you’ll be able to come back.

“I want you both, at the same time, to lean forward and touch the memory with the tip of your finger,” she instructed.

Al took a deep breath and looked at Scorpius, who was already leaning forward, his right index finger raised; Al quickly mimicked him, poising to touch the substance at the same time the other boy did. The silvery memory was whirling and spinning and peering down into the basin, Al could see a dark room and a bed with expensive linens, rather than the bottom of the pensieve. Then, at the same time, their hands hesitating for a moment, they touched the silvery substance in the stone basin. Both boys gasping at the same time, they were suddenly pitched head first into the basin. Expecting to feel the hard bottom of the basin, Al clenched his eyes shut and waited for the impact; instead, he realized, his eyes fluttering open, they were falling through icy blackness, and then suddenly they were standing side by side in the dark room.

The room was large, with an expansive bed to their left and various pieces of expensive mahogany furniture scattered around the room. Beneath the lone window sat a large and cluttered desk, and at the desk was a young man, hunched over and writing madly on a piece of parchment. From where Al was standing, he could only see the person’s profile but even that was enough for him to realize that the man was startlingly familiar. He was a few years older than them, Al guessed, maybe seventeen, but the way he was sitting, tense and apprehensive, made him appear much older.

“Oh my God,” Scorpius muttered, and Al turned his head to look at the other boy. It was seeing Scorpius from the side that made it click in Al’s brain; the man sitting at the desk was none other than Draco Malfoy, Scorpius’ father.

“Is that your dad?” Albus asked, even though he knew he already had the correct answer.

Scorpius nodded. “This is my room too, but it looks different now, it’s been changed; this must have been his room before it was mine… he never told me that.”

Al looked around, taking in the regal look of the room; so this is Malfoy Manor, he thought. He watched as Scorpius stepped forward and began to approach his father slowly. Scorpius reached Draco and waved a hand in front of his face, but the older Malfoy didn’t react at all, just continued writing.

Scorpius blinked and looked over his father’s shoulder and promptly blanched.

“What’s the matter?” Al asked, wondering why the other boy suddenly looked like he was just a moment away from being sick all over his shoes.

“He’s writing a letter—a love letter—but it isn’t to my mother.” Scorpius shivered and Al couldn’t help but sympathize, that would be disturbing. “I’m going to have to wash my brain out with soap after that.”

“What do you think it is we’re supposed to see, that’s so important?” Scorpius asked, stepping away from his father and the offensive letter.

Albus shrugged. “I wonder if we can leave—” but before he could finish his sentence there came a knock on the door. Not only did Scorpius and Albus jump in surprise but so did Draco, who came precariously close to dumping over his ink. He shoved the letter into a drawer and turned to face the door.

“Come in,” he said, and a woman, Al judged her to be somewhere around forty years of age, opened the door.

“My grandmother,” Scorpius hissed out of the side of his mouth to Albus, as if he was afraid of being heard by anyone else.

“Hello, dear,” she greeted, smiling at her son. She had the same blonde hair as her son and grandson but her face did not have the same pointed, pinched quality, Albus noted.

“Hello, mother, is it time for tea already?”

Narcissa nodded. “Your father and I will be down in the drawing room, waiting for you.” With that Mrs. Malfoy left, closing the door behind her.

Draco sighed and pulled the letter back out, writing a few more words before putting it back away, muttering about “finishing it later.”

The two boys followed Draco out and walked closely behind him as he maneuvered through the large manor. Eventually they reached the ground floor and the drawing room where the rest of the Malfoys were. Lucius Malfoy greeted his son and the family sat down for a light meal consisting of sandwiches and tea. While the family ate, Al watched them as Scorpius wandered off around the room and eventually just out into the hall. Albus had always liked watching people, his mother had always called him ridiculously observant, and the three Malfoys were interesting to watching; even though it was only the three of them sitting down to an informal evening meal, they were guarded and tense, like at any moment something was going to jump out of the shadows at them.

Suddenly there came a load banging somewhere near the front of the house, making Albus jump and nearly crash into an suit of armor next to the ornately carved fireplace. Narcissa Malfoy started just as Albus did and rose to her feat, walking stiffly out of the drawing room and towards the front of the house. Scorpius came back into the room just as his grandmother left it and hurried to Al’s side, his features twisted into a frown.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Al asked, hearing muffled excited voices and Narcissa’s cold, yet soft voice.

Scorpius shook his head, but Al noticed that the Slytherin looked even more nervous than he felt. “No… but I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” For once Al agreed with him, he had that creepy crawly feeling going up his spine, something was so very wrong in this memory. There had to be a reason why McGonagall wanted to show them this, and it wasn’t to watch the Mafloy’s tensely eating.

The two boys watched the doorway to the drawing room as steps and odd shuffles came closer, whoever had been at the door was following Narcissa back to the room. A group entered and Albus gave a horrified gasp and felt Scorpius’ body tense next to his, the blond boy had been right, this was going to be bad. A group of prisoners were being dragged and kicked into the room by a group of surly, sneering men and at the front was a large, lanky man. Albus had only heard stories about the horrifying Fenrir Greyback, but he knew from just looking at him that this was the monster that had given his Uncle Bill his scars. Albus gulped, his stomach feeling like lead.

Three of the prisoners were easy enough to recognize, Albus had known them since the moment of his birth. His Uncle Ron was to the right, younger and thinner than Al had ever imagined the tall red head being. To the left was his Aunt Hermione, her brown, bushy hair filled with leaves and dirt, tear tracks lined her brown, dirty face. And in the middle was his father; Albus knew immediately who he was even through the odd, swollen, red quality of his face. The fourth prisoner, a goblin, Albus did not know.

“It’s my dad,” Al muttered, and Scorpius tensed further, like a snake ready to strike, or an unlucky prey, ready to run.

“What is this?” Lucius Malfoy drawled, and Al turned to look back at the Malfoys, realizing that both Lucius and Draco had stood to their feat. Lucius was standing just in front of his son, perhaps consciously or unconsciously protecting Draco.

“They say they’ve got Potter,” Narcissa answered, gesturing to the prisoners. “Draco, come here.”

Draco stepped forward as the prisoners were turned, Harry situated directly beneath a chandelier that until that moment Al had not noticed.

“Well boy?” Greyback asked Draco, his yellowed fingernails digging into Harry’s shoulder, slightly shaking Harry as he spoke.

Draco looked at Harry briefly, his grey eyes only skittering over his enemy’s swollen face, like he was frightened to look too closely. “Well, Draco? Is it? Is it Harry Potter?” Lucius asked enthusiastically, apparently excited, not noticing the reluctant quality of Draco’s face. Albus realized than that for whatever reason, Draco didn’t want to say if it was Harry; Al doubted it had anything to do with loyalty, he had heard enough about his father and the Malfoys to know that they had never been friendly, but judging by Draco’s reluctance, Al wondered if it had something to do with a reluctance to be a part of anything.

“I can’t – I can’t be sure,” said Draco.

“But look at him carefully, look! Come closer!”

Lucius dragged his son closer and they peered directly into Harry’s face, searching for the scar. No one noticed but Al noticed how scared Draco really was, and how reluctant.

“I don’t know,” Draco finally stated, the words forced out between his teeth, and he walked away to stand next to his mother.

“We had better be certain, Lucius, completely sure that it is Potter, before we summon the Dark Lord…. They say this is his wand but it does not resemble Ollivander’s description. If we are mistaken, if we call the Dark Lord here for nothing… remember what he did to Rowle and Dolohov?” Narcissa called to her husband from across the room, her hand resting on her son’s arm.

Lucius stared closer at Harry, trying to see through the swelling, their noses almost touching.

“What about the Mudblood, then?” the werewolf growled, jerking Hermione forward to stand where Harry once had been. Hermione whimpered, a painful, terrifying sound and Albus felt something tear open in his chest. This was the woman that had read to him in bed just before he fell asleep when Al was young and Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione would baby-sit while Harry and Ginny were out. She had been there for every stepping stone of his life, his first steps, his first broom ride… everything. She loved him, James, and Lily just as much as she loved Rose and Hugo—in everyway, his aunt had been a second mother.

“I…maybe…yeah,” Draco muttered, the words seeming as if they were forced out of him, and Al noticed that Narcissa’s hand had tightened around her son’s arm, probably to the point of slight pain.

Lucius stepped away from Harry, focusing on Ron now. “But then, that’s the Weasley boy!” he shouted. “It’s them… Potter’s friends – Draco look at him, isn’t it Arthur Weasley’s son, what’s his name--?”

Draco refused to look and had his back turned to the prisoners, trying to shut himself away from the questions. His hands were curled to tight fists at his sides and they were shaking… he didn’t want to answer, but he did. “Yeah, it could be.”

“This is fucked up,” Scorpius hissed harshly, surprising Al. He turned to look at Scorpius and found that the Slytherin’s eyes were focused on Draco. “He’s being forced against his will, why don’t they just leave him alone?” Scorpius’ voice was strangely angry—out of anger for his father’s sake, Albus reasoned.

The drawing room door opened and a woman came in. For a moment Albus thought it was Mrs. Tonks, Teddy’s grandmother, but then realized that it couldn’t be, she would have no reason to be there. “What is this? What’s happened Cissy?”

An argument started between Lucius and the woman, who Albus quickly realized was none other than Bellatrix Lestrange. He had only heard of the Death Eater here and there, and if she was spoken about, it was in whispers… people were still scared of her, even after her death. Albus could now understand why, the woman was ruthless and crazed. She stunned everyone holding Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the goblin, except for Greyback, to get to Gryffindor’s sword. Albus had heard the story of Gryffindor’s sword and the role it played at the end of the war, and knew how it had appeared to Harry in a pool of water, apparently put there by Severus Snape to help him. He had never heard this part of the story, but he was able to surmise that the sword was supposed to be in the Lestrange’s vault, and she thought they had stolen it.

“If it is indeed Potter, he must not be harmed. The Dark Lord wishes to dispose of Potter himself.” Al shivered at the sound of Lestrange’s voice and the mention of his father being disposed of. Bellatrix continued, “But if he finds out…I must…I must know….”

She paused, panting, her chest heaving, and her black eyes crazed. “The prisoners must be placed in the cellar, while I think what to do!” she cried, turning to Narcissa.

“This is my house, Bella, you don’t give orders in my –” Narcissa began, her face livid.

“Do it! You have no idea of the danger we are in!” Bellatrix shrieked, and Al watched as fire suddenly shot out of her wand, burning a hole in the carpet.

Narcissa hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Take these prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback.”

Bellatrix, held her hand out, stopping Greyback. “Wait, all except…except for the Mudblood.”

Al’s blood ran cold and he took an involuntary step forward, if he had to watch this, than he wanted to somehow help. “What are doing?” Scorpius hissed. “You can’t do anything here, this isn’t real, it’s a memory.”
Al stopped, his eyes wide. Then, for the first time his Uncle Ron spoke. “No! You can have me, keep me!” Bellatrix hit him across the face and Al winced at the sound, the blow had echoed around the room. But the hit had not fazed him and his teeth were bared, a growl coming from somewhere deep in his chest. He sounded nearly as animalistic as the werewolf.

Bellatrix cut Hermione free and dragged her by the hair to the middle of the room as Greyback forced the others forward and out another door. The werewolf was only gone for a moment before he was back, the cellar door slamming shut with a loud BANG. Immediately Bellatrix pointed her wand at Hermione, the Death Eater’s eyes blazing with pleasure, as Hermione huddled on the floor. Hermione, Al noticed, did not look away from the witch holding the wand but rather stared at her, facing the first curse head on.

“Crucio!” Lestrange screamed, her cry hysteric.

Albus knew he would never forget the sound of his Aunt’s screams as her head cracked back against the floor and her body arched before going into convulsions. In the background, they could hear another scream and Hermione’s name being bellowed from somewhere beneath their feat. Uncle Ron, Albus realized, and sobs began to wrack his body, but no matter how he tried he couldn’t look away from Hermione.

Bellatrix lifted the curse and Hermione lay panting on the floor, her hair covering her face as she curled into the fetal position.

“Where did you get this sword?” the Death Eater cried, her hand shaking with adrenaline as she kept her wand leveled at the young woman on the floor.

“Nowhere, we found it,” Hermione answered, her tears running into her hair. The curse was back almost before she finished the sentence and her screams began anew, in his mind Albus was screaming along with her.

The Death Eater worked in cycles, lifting the curse for a moment and interrogating before promptly screaming “Crucio” once more. “How did you get into my vault? Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?” Lestrange screamed.

“We only met him tonight!” Hermione sobbed. “We’ve never been inside your vault….It isn’t the real sword! It’s a copy, just a copy!”

“A copy? Oh a likely story!”

“But we can find out easily!” Lucius crowed, his face lighting up as the idea came to him. “Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!”

For the first time since his Aunt’s torture had begun, Al’s gaze swung to Draco and also Scorpius; both Malfoys wore similar expressions of disgust and green tinged sickness, Draco’s face in particular showed his hesitation and battle raging within, he was fighting the desire to flee. As Draco turned and scuttled over to the door that led to the cellar, Al and Scorpius both had the strange compulsion to follow him and so they did, walking only a few steps behind him. As the door closed behind them and they traveled down a long, dark hallway, it dawned on Albus that this was Draco’s memory, that they had to follow him because this was how the memory progressed. They hurried down a flight of steep steps and finally reached the cellar door.

“Stand back. Line up against the back wall. Don’t try anything or I’ll kill you!” Draco’s shaking voice held no real conviction, they sounded like recited lines in a badly produced play. Draco opened the door and quickly grabbed the goblin, letting the door slam shut with a great bang.

They hurried out of the cellar, Albus and Scorpius having to run after Draco to keep up with his frantic, tense pace. They reemerged into the drawing room and Lucius tugged the goblin away from his son’s grasp, but before the goblin was even questioned, Bellatrix began torturing Hermione again. The sick, twisted pleasure on the witch’s face finally made Scorpius vomit; he heaved his dinner onto the floor, leaning against the wall for support. The moment the sick appeared on the floor, it disappeared, the memory in the pensieve not accepting it. Somehow, Albus kept the contents of his stomach down, constantly swallowing as Hermione lost consciousness, her mind attempting to shield itself.

Then, just when Albus was certain he couldn’t take it anymore, Lestrange lifted the curse just long enough for the group to hear a load crack from down below. The room grew silent, confusion on all of their faces. “What was that?” Lucius shouted, breaking the silence. “Did you hear that? What was that noise in the cellar?”

Al watched as they sent a short, slightly fat, rat-like man with a silver hand, down below to check on the prisoners. He was gone for a minute or so when Lucius called down to the man. “What is it, Wormtail?”

“Nothing!” the rat-man shouted back. “All fine!”

“Good,” Bellatrix mumbled, turning to the goblin held tightly in her brother-in-law’s grasp. “Bring that thing here,” she ordered.

Lucius glared but said nothing, pushing the hurt goblin forward until the small creature was in front of her, one eye badly swollen shut as he looked up into the face of the cruel witch. Bellatrix handed him the sword and he took it, studying it carefully, his face contemplative.

“Well, it is the true sword?” she asked.

“No, it is fake,” the goblin answered.

“Are you sure?” Bellatrix panted. “Quite sure?”

“Yes,” said the goblin, blood dripping down his face to soak into his shirt.

Al watched as relief spread across Bellatrix’s face, all tension leaving it. “Good,” she said, and with a flick of her wand she cursed the goblin again, another deep cut appearing on his already bloodied face. “And now, we call the Dark Lord!” She pushed back her sleeve and touched her forefinger to the mark on her arm, her face twisted into an evil grin. A few moments passed before she spoke again, turning back to the unconscious Hermione. “And I think we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her.”

Ice filled Al’s veins as a sob left his throat. This can’t be happening, she has to be alright, she’s fine now…. Suddenly there was a load bang and Albus swiveled around, seeing Ron standing in the doorway to the cellar, the door having been blasted open.

“NOOOO!” Ron roared, his wand arm already outstretched, ready to duel. “Expelliarmus!” Bellatrix’s wand flew into Harry’s hand and then before Albus could take another breath utter chaos broke out. Curses flew from every wand and dazedly, Albus felt Scorpius dragging him away to crouch behind a sofa, but it didn’t matter, the curses just flew right through them anyways, like they were ghosts. The two vaulted behind the sofa just as Harry did. He fired a curse behind him as he ducked, covering his head as part of sofa was promptly blasted to bits, shards of wood flying through the air like missiles. Scorpius screamed as a thick, pointed shard of wood that had once been an ornately carved leg, flew through his head, not even leaving a mark as it speared the chair behind them.

“STOP OR SHE DIES!” Bellatrix suddenly screamed, her knife to Hermione’s throat. Silence fell over the room as the curses stopped, the dust settling for a moment.

Al watched, his throat closing with panic as Harry and Ron dropped their wands, their hands rising in surrender. “This can’t be happening, this can’t really be happening,” he muttered, looking over the edge of the sofa as Draco scurried forward, picking up the dropped wands.

Albus heard Bellatrix speaking, her voice high and slightly hysterical, but he couldn’t understand what she was saying, his brain now refused to process her words. But then, her voice was cut off by a strange grinding noise from up above. Al looked up, his mouth falling open in astonishment as the chandelier gave way and began to fall. Bellatrix screamed, dropped Hermione, and dived out of the way as the chandelier came down, crashing on top of Hermione and the goblin.

“AUNT HERMIONE!” Albus screamed, stunned for a moment before he rushed forward, the flying crystal careening straight through him as he reached the wreckage. His hands reached for the chandelier intending to try to lift it off of her but his hands couldn’t grasp anything, they just went through the metal. He gave a growl of frustration at his own irrationality and turned just as Ron skidded over to the fallen chandelier; he quickly dragged her away and then lifted Hermione up bridal style, curling his body around hers.

Albus focused on the rest of his surroundings and realized that there were no more curses being thrown, just screams. Harry was holding most of the wands, the werewolf was unconscious and bleeding all over the carpet, and a house elf was standing, a fierce expression on his little face.

“Dobby has no master!” squealed the elf. “Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!”

“Ron, catch – and go!” Harry yelled, throwing a wand to his friend as he ran forward tugging the goblin away from the chandelier, hoisting him up, and then taking the house elf’s hand.

Ron Disapparated with Hermione and then Harry began to turn, preparing to Disapparate too. “NOOO!” Bellatrix screamed and Albus watched, horrified, as she threw her knife. It struck the house elf squarely in the middle of his chest just as he disappeared with Harry.

After Harry was gone a strange silence fell over the drawing room for a moment before it was broken by Narcissa, her eyes panicked. “Draco, quick, hide!” she cried, pushing her son out of the room and towards the stairs, leaving her unconscious husband behind; Albus and Scorpius followed Draco as he stumbled up the stairs and bolted into his room, slamming the door behind him.

Tears ran down Draco’s pale face as he leaned against the wall before sliding down it wearily. He pulled his legs up to his chest and buried his face in his knees, wrapping his arms around his legs as he began to rock back and forth. There came a load bang from downstairs, followed a minute or two later by fresh screams—and Albus knew the Malfoys were being tortured.

Barely audible were Draco’s words, whispered thickly into his knees as his parent’s screams grew in volume, but Albus and Scorpius could still hear them, “I don’t want to do this anymore, I don’t want to be here, please”

Then, the memory began to fade, growing black as Draco began to disappear, appearing as if he was moving away from them down a long tunnel. With a gasp, Albus suddenly found himself back in McGonagall’s office, still leaning over the pensieve, like they hadn’t even left at all. Looking up they surveyed the room, the world looked just the same as it always had, but to the two boys something had changed; their perception of how they viewed the world was forever altered.

****

Their lessons continued, but none ever came close to being as bad as Draco’s memory at Malfoy Manor. Albus now understood what McGonagall had set out to do, because it was working perfectly. The animosity between the two boys had all but disappeared, Al found it impossible to hate Scorpius when the two of them had suffered through Draco’s memory together; viewing the horrors of war that they had been shielded from through all their lives had somehow bonded them together. They didn’t speak, and Al wouldn’t have called Scorpius a friend, but he often found himself throughout the day glancing around for Scorpius’ pale blond hair. Not only had their petty fights stopped but relations between Slytherin and Gryffindor improved; it wasn’t like they were all suddenly the best of friends but without the tension created from Albus’ and Scorpius’ duels there was less fuel to stoke the fire.

Easter holidays came and went and McGonagall stopped their lessons, her mission having been accomplished. Even though there was now no interaction between Al and Scorpius besides what happened out on the Quidditch field, Al often found his eyes unconsciously moving to wherever Scorpius happened to be. To Al it was confusing and disconcerting, and he tried to shake off the feelings slowly growing in his chest but no matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t able to.

May rolled around and with it came the Quidditch final that year between Slytherin and Ravenclaw (Gryffindor having lost to Ravenclaw when the Gryffindor Seeker Angus Wood accidentally ran into one of the goal posts). Excitement was running high at Hogwarts the day of the final match and the two teams did not disappoint the crowd. It was a hard-fought match but in the end Ravenclaw caught the Snitch first and narrowly won. Albus though did not pay as much attention to the match as he normally would have because his eyes were constantly wandering over to the stands opposite the Gryffindor seats—Draco and Astoria Malfoy had come to watch their son play. Seeing Mr. Malfoy reminded Al of the things he had seen months before and chills of irrational fear went up and down his spine when he remembered Bellatrix Lestrange. But, he did not fear Draco Malfoy; Albus would forever remember him as the man who had begged to be taken out of the situation, who had been reluctant through the end.

Al could see Scorpius’ disappointment as he greeted his parents when they met him down on the field after the game was over; but Draco did not show the same disappointment when he pulled his son into a hug, patting him jovially on the back.

As the stands emptied and everyone walked back to the castle for the post-game feast, Al wandered onto the pitch and eventually over to the Slytherin changing rooms. He wasn’t certain what he was doing, but he did know that something was compelling him to talk to Scorpius. The look of bitter disappointment on the other boy’s face had bothered Albus for some reason. Scorpius was a chaser like Albus and Al had to admit that he had played the best game that he had ever seen the Slytherin play; even with catching the snitch Ravenclaw had only won by ten points. Scorpius had played very impressively and, Albus was able to admit, better than he himself had ever played.

Al ducked around the corner as most of the Slytherin team left, showered and sullen as they strode back to the castle. Albus knew that only Scorpius was left inside and so he quietly opened the door and stepped inside, shutting it softly behind him. The Slytherin changing rooms were exactly like the Gryffindor changing rooms so Albus was able to find his way easily enough. He found Scorpius still in his Quidditch gear in the shower room, sitting on one of the changing benches, his head buried in his hands and his elbows on his knees.

Albus stepped forward and Scorpius’ head snapped up, hearing the sound of Al’s shoes on the white tile. “What are you doing here?” asked Scorpius, frowning.

“Er…” Albus swallowed hard and tried to remember why he thought it was a good idea to seek Scorpius out. “Well, I came to tell you that you played a good game today.”

Scorpius gave a bark of sarcastic laughter and stood to his feet, beginning to tug at his leather Quidditch gloves. “Yeah, right, we lost. I don’t think that qualifies as a good game,” he muttered, throwing his gloves on the tile floor, and then kicking them over to the other side of the room.

“But, you still played really, really well though, best that I’ve ever seen you play,” Al said, watching as Scorpius shrugged out of his robes and threw those too, leaving him naked except for the pair of black trousers that were part of the Slytherin Quidditch uniform. Seeing Scorpius nearly naked was doing funny things to Al’s stomach and he tried to shove the feeling aside.

“So? It doesn’t matter how I played, Slytherin still lost—and my dad was here to see us lose too, that just makes it worse.”

Albus remembered the look of pride on Mr. Malfoy’s face and doubted that Draco cared if Slytherin lost or not, just that his son had played with all his heart. “Your dad seemed really proud though, he didn’t care that the team lost.”

Scorpius scoffed. “I don’t get it Potter, why do you even care? It’s not like we’re friends or anything,” he uttered bitterly. “Why don’t you just go and leave me alone! I am so sick and tired of you being around every fucking corner. I would like to go just one day without having to see you.”

Hurt lashed through Albus’ chest and he took a step back as Scorpius rushed towards him. The Slytherin skidded to a halt and shoved Albus back, a sneer across his pale face. “I don’t need you anyways, just go away.”

“Fine,” Albus snapped and turned to leave, cursing himself internally as the beginning of tears stung his eyes. He saw a brief flash of something that resembled panic on Scorpius’ face before Scorpius suddenly grabbed his arms and stopped Al from moving further. “Malfoy let go of—” But before he could finish he was pushed further back and he felt his back hit the wall with a soft thump. “What the fuck is wrong with—” he began but the rest of the words were cut off as Scorpius suddenly tipped his head down and to the side, kissing Al solidly on the mouth.

Al’s mouth opened with a gasp and then he felt Scorpius’ tongue trace along his lower lip before it was sliding inside his mouth, seeking out his own tongue. Albus, though shocked, was kissing him back as fiercely as he could, tugging Scorpius closer until their bodies were flush. Al had known since his sloppy first snog with Geoffrey Boot (and until this his only snog) that he preferred blokes over girls. Scorpius kissing him only cemented the fact that he liked hard lines more than soft curves.

Scorpius was pressing him so hard into the wall that he was certain that the blond was trying to crawl inside his body. Al could feel the Slytherin’s hard, throbbing length against his hip and shivered, desire coursing through him as Scorpius pulled back from the kiss, their breath mingling as they panted.

His hands shaking, Albus ran his fingers down Scorpius’ lean, slightly muscular torso until they reached the top of his trousers. Scorpius’ blue eyes burned into his own green ones as Albus’ fingers went to his zipper and tugged it down, making Scorpius gasp as the back of his hand brushed Scorpius’ erection. His trousers now hanging loose, Albus dipped his hand inside Scorpius’ boxers and quickly wrapped his fingers around the hard cock inside.

“Oh, fuck yes,” the blond hissed, bucking forward and sending more of his cock through Al’s fist.

Panting, and his own cock aching, Al began to stroke in time with Scorpius’ needy thrusts. A moment later Al felt Scorpius tugging on his clothes, trying to get at Al’s throbbing prick to return the favor.

“Shit, you have too many clothes on,” Scorpius groaned, finally reaching inside Al’s robes to fondle and stroke.

Al whimpered and moved his own hand faster, gasping as Scorpius’s thumb caressed the sensitive head of his cock, spreading the gathering pre-come around. They kissed again, their teeth clashing awkwardly as their tongues tangled and dueled, their strokes increasing in pace as they both neared orgasm. Finally with a grunt, Scorpius came, shooting white spunk onto Al’s hand and in his boxers; and it was the feeling of Scorpius’ come, hot and wet against his hand, that made him come too, panting against Scorpius’ mouth.

The sagged against the tile wall and slid down it, their legs no longer able to hold their weight. Feeling Scorpius’ come slowly starting to cool on his hand, Al grabbed his wand out of his pocket and scourgified away their release—re-pocketing the wand after he was done.

Scorpius was laying half on top of Albus, his hot breath fanning over Al’s neck as they lay quietly, coming down from the high. Finally Scorpius lifted his head enough to look down at the other boy; his fingertips ran across Al’s face, running over the slight, black stubble that covered the lower half of Al’s face. He chuckled lazily and bit down lightly on Al’s earlobe, making a zing of pleasure roll down Al’s spine and his cock twitch.

“Bet you weren’t expecting that,” Scorpius murmured, grinning against Al’s ear.

“N—no, actually I wasn’t.” Even though things had gone so fast that it felt like he had whiplash, Albus knew that this was what he had been wanting for the last few months.

Scorpius stiffened before speaking again. “You uh—wanted to do that with me right?” he mumbled, and Albus could feel the other boy’s face heat against his neck.

Albus lifted his arm and buried his right hand in Scorpius’ blond hair, slowly lifting Scorpius’ head until he could properly see the Slytherin’ face. “Yeah, definitely,” he replied softly and lifted his head to brush his lips against Scorpius’ lips. Al shifted as the kiss deepened, spreading his legs so that Scorpius’ could lay completely on top of him.

Balancing his weight on his knees, Scorpius removed more of Al’s clothes so that they were more equal in the naked department. After Al’s robe and cloak were completely gone, discarded somewhere near Scorpius’ own clothes, Scorpius kissed and sucked down Al’s chest to his torso; when he reached Al’s navel he kissed his way back up, paying special attention to his nipples.

Scorpius reached Al’s neck again and when he did, Al gently took two fistfuls of Scorpius’ hair, liking the way it felt in his hands, and guided his head up until they were face to face. Before lifting his head to initiate their next kiss, Albus studied Scorpius’ face for a moment. He was finally seeing Scorpius as simply Scorpius, not as a dirty rotten Slytherin or as a Malfoy. Albus realized that just because it was his last name it didn’t dictate who Scorpius was.

“What?” Scorpius asked, a crease developing in his forehead as Al continued to stare at
him.

“Nothing,” Al murmured, tugging Scorpius’ head down to kiss him.

Al flipped them so that he was on top and Scorpius spread his legs like Al had done before so that Al could lie between his thighs. “My turn,” he said, and began to explore down Scorpius’ body, kissing and sucking.

The only sounds in the tiled shower room were Scorpius’ moans and whimpers as Al went further, exploring down Scorpius’ thighs and back up to his erection. Now that he had Scorpius, he wanted all of him, and he wanted Scorpius now. This perhaps wasn’t; quite the lesson McGonagall had planned, but Al was glad he had learned it all the same.

"Firsts," Charlie/Teddy

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Sat, 27 Jun 2009 06:32:46 GMT

Title: Firsts
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: Adult
Pairing(s): Charlie/Teddy
Summary: It began innocently enough… all Teddy had wanted was a mug of hot chocolate.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction set in the Harry Potter universe – all recognisable characters and settings are the property of J. K. Rowling and her associates. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work
Warning(s): ADW: (43/17), cross-gen, first time, dirty talk, voyeurism, semi-public sex, rimming.
Word Count: 4951
Author's Notes: Written for loony4lupinduring the second year of hp_raritiesI love this pairing and it was so fun to write ;). Thank you to softly_sweetlyfor betaing :D.

Firsts

Charlie Weasley was hot, there was no denying it. Women and even men flocked to him in droves, looking for just a taste of the second oldest Weasley brother. Teddy, even though one could say that the Weasleys were more like family than anything else, had noticed Charlie’s charismatic, sexy ways. But it had all changed one cold December night when Teddy was staying over at the Burrow for the holidays and accidentally saw Charlie naked, on his bed, and masturbating. Before that night, he knew that he had a crush on the much older Charlie, but to him it had never been that big of a deal… just really good wanking material. Seeing his crush aroused and masturbating only added fuel to the fire, and now not only did he have excellent wanking material, he had enough to last him for the next 100 years of his life.

It had all started very innocently, really. All that Teddy had wanted was a mug of hot chocolate to help him sleep. But when he’d passed Charlie’s room and heard distinctive sounds that could only mean one thing, he couldn’t help but peek. The idea of chocolate, no matter how appetizing, had immediately flown from his mind when Teddy had seen Charlie on his narrow bed, back arched while fisting his hard cock.

Charlie, even though he was in his forties, was the finest male specimen Teddy had ever dreamed of seeing. He was all beautiful freckles, tanned skin stretched over muscles with a light dusting of red hair across his body which led down to the main object of Teddy’s fascination… to say the least Charlie Weasley was impressive, in every way imaginable. Teddy, having a slightly devious, mischievous quality that he inherited from his mother, immediately began scheming and planning. He wanted Charlie, and he didn’t want anyone else to have him either. Teddy was certain that there were many out there who wanted Charlie’s affections and if he was going to come out on top, he needed an edge… and so began Mission: Get Charlie in the Sack.

****

First, Teddy had to find out if Charlie liked men. The task, while daunting, was a challenge and Teddy thrived on challenges. It wasn’t like he could walk up to the red head and ask point-blank if Charlie would consider buggering him, things just weren’t done that way. And so, Teddy concocted the plan. It was simple really, and, Teddy had to admit, ingenious. He would come to Charlie with a problem and hopefully Charlie would give him advice, therefore divulging the information that Teddy wanted.

Four days before Christmas, Teddy stumbled upon the perfect opportunity. It was getting late and the various Weasleys were saying their goodbyes and either going home or up to bed; Charlie was nursing a tumbler of brandy and seemed more than content to stay in front of the fire while his family left. So, Teddy decided to stick around too and see if he and Charlie would be the last ones left, if they were than Teddy would ask him for advice.

Teddy mentally cheered and patted himself on the back as Bill finally said his goodnights and left for Shell Cottage with Fleur. Then, Charlie and Teddy were left all alone, no one aware of Teddy’s infatuation or plan.

The two sat in silence for five minutes before Teddy decided that it was time to set his plan into motion. He cleared his throat and, looking in Charlie’s direction, he began to speak. “Er… Charlie can I ask you a question?”

Charlie smiled and nodded from his seat on the sofa. “Sure kiddo, go ahead.”

Kiddo? Oh this wasn’t starting off well at all. That very term made Teddy want to be sick all over the carpet.

“Well…” Teddy pressed on, arranging his face into a befuddled, concerned expression. “I have a problem, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Charlie frowned and set down his now nearly empty brandy, giving Teddy his full attention. “What’s the matter?”

Teddy sighed dramatically, wondering how thick to lay it on. “Er, the thing is I’ve come to realize something about myself and now I don’t know what to do about it.” Teddy squirmed and sighed again, slumping his shoulders in what he hoped was a deeply troubled way. “You see, I think I might like guys more than I like girls.”

Teddy watched as Charlie’s eyes bugged out and he coughed awkwardly, apparently he wasn’t expecting Teddy to say that. “You think you’re gay?”

The younger man nodded. “My Grandmother, she expects me to get married one day and give her great-grandchildren. And I’m just wondering how to tell her that I’m probably never going to get married, or if I will it will be in a way that probably won’t produce children….”

“Shouldn’t you ask Harry about this sort of thing?”

“Do you mind me asking you?” Teddy asked, fake-frowning.

“No! Of course not.” Charlie fell silent for a moment as he considered Teddy’s dilemma. “Well, Teddy… I think it’s always most important to be yourself. And your grandma, she loves you, I’m sure that she’ll be happy as long as you’re happy.”

Teddy nodded thoughtfully and sighed. “Yeah, I guess you're right. Thanks Charlie.”

“You’re welcome.” Charlie grinned and finished off his brandy.

Taking a deep breath, Teddy moved onto the question he’d been wanting to ask all along. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

The older man nodded.

“Well, it just seemed to me that you were speaking from personal experience, you know, about being yourself,” Teddy said, anxiously waiting for Charlie to give up the information he had been fishing for in the first place.

“I guess you could say that, I mean, going to Romania when Mum wanted me to stay in England, and everyone else expecting me to go play Qudditch when, in reality, I wanted to do something else for the rest of my life.”

Teddy felt his hope deflate; perhaps he’d been wrong about his plan. In fact, maybe Charlie could never be interested in him.

“And then…” Charlie paused, looking indecisive for a moment before continuing. “What you’re going through, I have been through something similar actually, not that I ever told anyone.”

While his face remained in a neutral, calming expression, inside Teddy was jumping for joy and whooping in triumph. “So, uh, you’re gay?”

“I swing both ways actually.” Charlie’s face and neck were tinged red and Teddy felt an odd sense of pride at the fact that Charlie had told him he was bisexual when Charlie had never told his family.

Charlie sat in his own awkward silence for a minute before clearing his throat and getting to his feet. “It’s late kiddo, I think I’m going to head up to bed now. G’night, sleep well.”

Teddy returned the same words and watched as Charlie disappeared up the stairs, staring at Charlie’s arse while he had the chance. Once Charlie was out of sight, Teddy let a wide, toothy grin appear on his face. He jumped out his chair, landing lithely on his feet, and did a little celebratory jig in the Weasley’s living room. The first part of his plan had been a complete success, but Teddy knew that the next part of his plan was going to be the most risky, and the most challenging, part. And the first thing on his agenda was to get Charlie to stop calling him kiddo; whenever he said it, it shot Teddy’s libido straight to hell.

****

Part two of the best-plan-that-was-ever-created began two nights later. It was a Saturday and Teddy knew from experience that Charlie always went out Saturday nights to a popular Muggle club in London. For part two to be a success, Teddy had to be subtle about what he really wanted from Charlie.

At precisely nine o’clock, Charlie Apparated away from the Burrow and into London. Teddy had already scoped out the club the day before and knew precisely where Charlie was going, and so it was easy to follow him there. With a pop, Teddy appeared in the narrow alley next to the club. It was dark and the alley was mostly in shadow, the nearby street lamp’s light not reaching that far in. Close by, Teddy could hear moans and the sounds of wet, sloppy sex.

Getting his bearings, he found the exit to the street and walked out of the alley, immediately heading to the back door of the club. Silently slipping into the club, Teddy darted through the dark halls until he reached the front, where the clubbers danced, drank, and flirted. The place was full, packed with both men and women, gyrating together in a mash of straight and gay people. The song blaring from the speakers was oddly fitting and Teddy grinned, hoping that the fates were smiling down on him.

You let me violate you, you let me desecrate you
You let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you
Help me I broke apart my insides, help me I’ve got no soul to sell
Help me the only thing that works for me, help me get away from myself

Along the wall to Teddy’s right was the long bar and then at the back where Teddy was standing there were a few tables and booths. Standing on his tiptoes, Teddy looked over the heads of the dancing people and tried to spot Charlie’s red hair. A minute later Teddy’s breaths quickened when he saw Charlie leaning against the bar; even though he was probably the oldest man there, he fit right in with his tight denims that showcased what Teddy knew to be the best arse in all of Britain. His button-up shirt was undone down just passed his pecs, revealing his toned, tanned chest.

“It should be illegal to look that good,” Teddy muttered, making his way through the dancing crowd until he reached the edge.

Charlie was chatting with a tall, good looking man with light brown hair, dressed in tight leather trousers. The man – Teddy disliked him immediately (he had to admit to himself though that he was biased) – kept glancing down to Charlie’s chest and licking his lips. Teddy rolled his eyes at the stranger’s lack of subtlety. “You might as well beat him over the head with a ‘fuck me please’ sign,” Teddy muttered quietly to himself again, turning back around to look for someone to dance with.

Subtlety was the key to Teddy’s plan, so that when he made his move, Charlie wouldn’t know what hit him. It was easy enough, especially with the club so packed, to find someone to spend a few songs with. Near the edge and just a body’s length or two away from Charlie was a lone dancer. He wasn’t dancing with anyone in particular but rather moving along with the mass of bodies. The song changed just as Teddy sidled up to the man.

“Hey!” Teddy yelled over the pounding music. “Do you wanna dance?”

The stranger nodded, his shaggy blond hair damp with sweat, and he tugged at Teddy until they were close, the stranger’s muscled thigh in between Teddy’s legs.

“My name’s Richard!” the stranger said loudly, Teddy just hearing him over the music.

“Mine’s Teddy.”

Richard grinned and the pair began to move to the music, gyrating and moving their hips to the strong rock beat of the song that was blaring out of the speakers.

Hey I was just a skinny lad
Never knew no good from bad
But I knew life before I left my nursery
Left alone with big fat fanny
She was such a naughty nanny
Heap big woman you made a bad boy out of me
Hey hey!

Teddy estimated that they were only dancing (if you could call what they were doing dancing) for a minute or two before Teddy’s felt a large, masculine hand come down on his shoulder.

“Teddy Lupin, what in Merlin’s name are you doing here?”

Teddy’s lips twitched as he refrained from smiling, before he turned around to meet Charlie’s shocked gaze, making sure that no traces of the smile remained on his heart-shaped face. “Ch—Charlie! I didn’t know you were here….”

Charlie blinked and his gaze swung to Richard, who looked bemused but when he caught sight of Charlie’s stony expression, it quickly changed alarm.

“Er… sorry I didn’t know he was with you,” Richard muttered, releasing Teddy and pushing him towards Charlie.

Charlie’s frown deepened. “He isn’t with me.” He took a hold of Teddy’s forearm and began to pull him towards the nearest exit. “Aren’t you a little young do be at a club like this?” he asked as they reached the door and opened it, stepping out into the cold night air.

Teddy gritted his teeth. “I am not a kid.”

“You’re only 17, that makes you a kid in my book. What would your grandma and Harry say if they knew that you were at this club?”

Teddy dug his feet into the pavement and pulled hard, stopping Charlie in his tracks. “What happened to being myself?”

“There’s nothing wrong with being yourself but you’re only 17, you don’t know what you’re doing, and neither did that bloke you were dancing with, he looked even younger than you,” the red head uttered darkly.

“So what, I’m supposed to wait until I’m old and grey before I take it up the arse?”

Charlie’s mouth fell open and they stood for a few moments in complete silence. A few curious passers-by hurried away and one accidentally bumped into Charlie, effectively breaking the older man out of his trance-like state. “No! I’m not saying that.... Arg! I don’t even know what I’m trying to say anymore. All I know is that you shouldn’t be here, and I’m taking you back to the Burrow.”

“You’re such a hypocrite.” Teddy shook his head and turned back to enter the club once more, but before he could get more than a two steps away Charlie’s hand was around his wrist.

“I am not a hypocrite!” Charlie spat angrily, his ears red.

“Sure you are, let me ask you, how old were you when you first did it?”

Charlie’s blush deepened. “Well… 16, but that was different, I was with someone who knew what he was doing and how to do it well.”

“Excellent! Then I’ll go find someone like that.” Teddy tried to pull out of Charlie’s grip but he was being held too firmly to wrench out of it.

“Christ, do you want to get fucked that badly to let a stranger be your first?”

Seeing the perfect opportunity to set the next step of his plan into action, Teddy opened the figurative Pandora’s Box. “Well, if you feel that way about it then, why don’t you fuck me?”

Teddy knew the moment Charlie registered his words when the older man’s face slackened in disbelief. Sputtering, Charlie tried to backtrack. “Wha—what? We can’t do that! Harry’d kill me….”

“Oh, sure, the next time I see Harry I’ll just refrain from mentioning that you put your dick in my arse. Nobody has to know! What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

Charlie rolled his eyes. “You’re really good at this dirty talk thing by the way, you’re really turning me on,” he said sarcastically. “I can’t believe we’re even discussing this.”

“It’s not like we’re blood relatives and it’s like you said, you have the experience and I would suppose you would know how to do it well enough,” Teddy urged, stepping as close to Charlie as he dared right then, their bodies barely brushing against each other.

“I actually know how to do it very well, for your information.” Charlie realized what he had just said and ran his hand down his face, shaking his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe I just said that.”

“If you don’t fuck me, I’ll just find someone else to do it,” Teddy challenged, internally giving himself a pat on the back at Charlie’s torn expression.

When Charlie still hadn’t said anything one way or the other for a long moment, Teddy stepped even closer until his body was plastered against Charlie’s. Reaching up, Teddy buried his fingers in the red hair at the nape of Charlie’s neck and stood up on his tip-toes until his lips were brushing against the other man’s ear. “I’ll show you dirty talk… I want your hard cock in my arse so bad I’m aching for it. Come on, you know you want it; imagine it Charlie, your cock buried in my hot, virgin arse until we’re both coming.”

Charlie shivered and Teddy glanced down, smirking when he saw Charlie’s hard-on through his jeans. “Come on Charlie, fuck me… I dare you.”

The “I dare you” was apparently the end of Charlie’s restraint because the next thing Teddy knew he was shoved up against the nearest wall (it just happened to be in that same alley that he had Apparated into) and Charlie’s tongue was being shoved down in his throat. Teddy gasped and arched against Charlie’s hard body, shivers of pleasure racing down his spine and straight to his prick when he felt Charlie’s cock against his stomach.

As quickly as Charlie had kissed him, he suddenly stopped. Teddy whined, only a little embarrassed at the sound, before Charlie’s lips were back on his body, sucking on and marking his neck. “Oh… fuck,” Teddy croaked, fingers digging into the rough stone of the exterior wall as Charlie quickly moved further down his body.

Teddy rolled his head to the side, his chest heaving and his eyes closed, as Charlie pulled Teddy’s shirt out of his trousers and unzipped him. With practiced fingers, Charlie pulled Teddy’s cock out of his boxer shorts and promptly sucked the swollen head into his mouth, making Teddy groan. Opening his eyes, Teddy squeaked when he realized that they had an audience. There were two women at the opening of the alley, just a few feet away, who were watching them with lustful, albeit stunned expressions. Teddy, inexperienced as he was, was surprised when he realized that he liked the idea of being watched.

Taking his eyes off of the two women, Teddy looked down as Charlie licked his cock like a popsicle. With a wink, Charlie wrapped his lips around Teddy’s cock once more and began to suck, moving farther and farther down until Teddy felt his cock bump the back of Charlie’s throat. Wide eyed, Teddy watched as Charlie began to swallow around him, expertly deep-throating him until Charlie’s lips were wrapped tightly around the base.

“Charlie, Merlin, Charlie please…” Teddy babbled, hands coming to rest on top of Charlie’s head, fingers buried in surprisingly soft red hair.

Charlie hummed around him and began to bob his head. It wasn’t long until Teddy came with a small shout, shooting his load down Charlie’s throat. Wrenching his eyes open Teddy turned his head again and saw that the two women had been joined by a friend. The three were clearly just as aroused as Teddy still was, nipples erect, breasts heaving, and cheeks red. Charlie finished cleaning him and tucked Teddy’s still hard cock into his trousers and carefully zipped him back up. He stood, pulling Teddy against him.

“Ladies, if you’ll excuse us….” Charlie gave them a wink and Teddy heard them twitter like a flock of excited birds as Charlie pulled him deeper into the alley, away from their watchful eyes.

Charlie pulled out his wand to Disapparate. “Where are we going?” Teddy whispered.

“If we’re going to do this, there’s going to be a bed involved.”

They appeared less than a second later in what was thankfully an empty public loo. Charlie quickly led him out of the loo and into what Teddy realized with a jolt was a fancy Muggle hotel.

“Where the hell are we?” Teddy hissed, stunned by the marble floors and the large, ornately woven red rug in the middle of the large lobby.

“We’re near Hyde Park, and no one will ever recognize us here. If I paid for a room for us, for one night in the Leaky Cauldron, it’d be all over Wizarding London in thirty minutes.” Walking up to the receptionist, Charlie fished about in his pocket, pulling out a roll of Muggle notes and hastily stuffing the Galleons and Knuts back into his pocket before the receptionist could see. Paying for the room quickly, Charlie ignored the older woman's wide eyed, scandalized expression at the pair. She had never seen two men pay for one room, for one night, without any luggage with them at all.

After the room was paid for, Charlie led Teddy to the lift and they rode up together, Teddy pressed intimately against him with Charlie’s hands resting lightly on Teddy’s narrow hips. A few moments later the lift came to a halt and the two stepped out into the hallway.

“Come on, it’s this way.”

Four doors down and to the right was their room, which turned out to be almost as nice as the lobby four floors down. As soon as the door was closed, locked, and Charlie had placed a Silencing charm on the room so that they wouldn’t disturb any neighbors, they were kissing again. This kiss was far more hesitant than the first, wild one had been, but, to Teddy, it wasn’t any less fantastic.

“You still sure about this?” Charlie asked once the kiss had ended. Teddy nodded, pulling Charlie towards where he thought the bedroom was.

The bedroom featured a large, inviting four poster bed and several other furnishings that Teddy didn’t pay a lot of attention to; he was focused completely on the bed. Maneuvering their bodies so that Charlie was walking backwards and Teddy was guiding him, the two eventually met the bed and Charlie laid back against the mattress at Teddy’s insistence. Teddy climbed up after him and straddled the older man’s hips, feeling Charlie’s erection against his arse.

With slightly shaking fingers, Teddy began to undress Charlie, starting with his already mostly undone shirt. After the shirt was off, Teddy peppered hot, open mouthed kisses along Charlie chest, paying special attention to his nipples before kissing down to his stomach. After shimmying his body down to Charlie’s legs, Teddy was eye level with the waist band of his jeans; Teddy ran his fingers over the very prominent bulge before unzipping him and tugging his jeans down. To Teddy’s delight he found that Charlie hadn’t bothered wearing any pants and he was completely bare under the denim.

Leaning back to investigate Charlie’s overall nakedness, Teddy shivered at the sight of Charlie’s long hard cock standing at attention for him, pre-come already gathered at the tip. Bending down, Teddy licked the gathered liquid away, pleased when he heard his lover’s guttural grown. Even though he was a virgin, Teddy had experimented with a few curious dormmates, and he knew his way around a cock. Teddy moved to take it into his mouth completely as Charlie had done earlier for him but was stopped by Charlie’s hand on the top of his head.

“We’ll have time for that later, the first time is going to be about you.”

Undressing him quickly, Charlie moved Teddy onto the bed, maneuvering Teddy until he was on his hands and knees. Naked and exposed, Teddy trembled again as he felt Charlie’s warm, moist breath against his arse. He felt the tingling sensation of a cleaning charm before Charlie’s fingers were on his arse cheeks, spreading him further. The feeling of Charlie’s tongue tracing his hole made Teddy gasp and whimper, hanging his head as the pleasure swirled through him. When Charlie held his tongue straight and firm and began to thrust it into Teddy’s body as far as he could, Teddy clutched the blankets hard.

“Charlie…” Teddy uttered, groaning as Charlie began to tongue fuck him, the redhead’s tongue wiggling and moving in and out.

Just like before, Teddy was soon reduced to pleasure induced babbling and begging as he bucked under Charlie’s talented tongue. A few minutes later, Charlie stopped and pulled back. Conjuring a bottle of lube, Charlie squirted some onto his fingers before moving back to Teddy. Kissing along the Teddy’s lower back, Charlie ran his lubed index finger along Teddy’s hole before slowly pressing forward, moving past the first knuckle and then the second. Teddy squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in deeply, making himself relax.

Moving slowly and carefully, always aware of every little movement that Teddy made, Charlie began to move his first finger in and out. As Teddy began to move back against him, riding his finger, Charlie added his thick middle finger, stopping as Teddy hissed in pain.

“Okay?” Charlie asked, adding more lube before slowly continuing.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Teddy replied, the pain lessening once both fingers were completely inside.

Charlie continued to slowly stretch him, scissoring both fingers in and out, eventually finding Teddy’s prostate and making him cry out in pleasure.

“Want you so much, please Charlie, please,” Teddy prattled, head sagging again as Charlie continued to fuck him.

“Soon, Teddy, don’t rush it,” the older man huskily replied, nipping at Teddy’s full, right arse cheek.

Not able to wait anymore, Charlie pulled his fingers out and then squeezed more lube out onto his cock, hissing as the cold liquid touched his skin. He spread it around his shaft, making sure that there was enough before continuing. “Turn around Teddy,” he instructed, laying himself down, his head near the foot of the bed as he continued to stroke himself. Teddy turned and understanding what Charlie wanted, straddled him again, raising himself on his knees so that he hovered over Charlie’s erect cock.

“Nice and slow Teddy,” Charlie told him as Teddy began to sink down, Charlie’s fist wrapped around his own cock, helping guide himself into Teddy’s arse.

His breathing erratic, Teddy let the thick head into his body, biting his lip as it spread him wide. Slowly, inch by inch Teddy continued drop down onto Charlie dick, balancing himself on his lover’s chest. Finally once Charlie was buried to the hilt, Teddy breathed in deeply and wiggled, wincing in pain before stilling. The pain, while there, wasn’t as bad as Teddy had first assumed it would be, and the feeling of being filled to the brink—by Charlie—was an intoxicating experience.

Charlie clutched Teddy’s hips, holding both of them still as Teddy adjusted around him. Suddenly, Teddy reared up, lifting himself up until only the head remained inside before sinking back down, gasping as Charlie brushed against his sweet spot. Charlie groaned and arched his back, thrusting up into Teddy as he came down.

“Fuck you’re tight,” Charlie uttered, caressing the soft skin at Teddy’s hip before running his fingers inward across his thigh and to his hard shaft, wrapping his hand around Teddy and beginning to stroke.

Teddy continued to move up and down, riding Charlie progressively harder as he panted for enough air. “C’mere,” Charlie ordered softly and Teddy leaned down, their lips connecting in a heated, messy kiss as Charlie sucked Teddy’s tongue into his mouth.

Charlie wrapped an arm around Teddy’s sweaty body as their tongues dueled and he began to lift his hips to send more of his cock into Teddy’s arse. Teddy gasped, ending their kiss as he came with a sudden shout a minute later, his cock trapped and sliding between their hot bodies as they thrust against each other. The feeling of Teddy’s come, hot and wet between them, made Charlie lose it; grabbing the back of his lover’s thighs and gripping tightly, Charlie thrust up into Teddy as hard as he could, the sound of skin slapping against skin making Charlie’s balls tighten as his orgasm neared. A dozen thrusts later Charlie came with a grunt, filling Teddy’s arse with his spunk as Teddy gasped, lying boneless and limp across Charlie’s chest.

Neither of them moved for several minutes afterwards, the only sounds in the room their breathing and Teddy's intermittent chuckles as Charlie's fingers ran teasingly up and down his sides and back, tickling the skin softly. Eventually Charlie shifted until he could reach his wand on the nightstand and performed a cleaning charm on both them and the sheets, rearranging both of them until their heads were on the soft hotel pillows.

No words were spoken for several long moments until Teddy lifted his head off of Charlie’s chest. “Charlie?”

“Yeah, you okay?”

“I’m fine, a little sore but nothing terrible. I uh… just wanted to say thanks,” Teddy replied.

Charlie chuckled. “You’re welcome kiddo.”

Teddy’s face soured. “Okay, first thing, calling me kiddo now is more than a little creepy.”

“Oops sorry... hard habit to break.”

They fell back off into silence, Teddy thinking over the success of his plan and how well everything had worked out. But in the end he wanted it to happen again as many times as possible, that one time wasn’t near enough to quench Teddy’s thirst for the most attractive Weasley.

“Charlie?”

“Hmm?”

“Can we do this again?” Teddy asked, already half expecting Charlie to say no.

Charlie grinned, turning his head so that he could see Teddy properly. “I think that can be arranged,” Charlie replied with a wink, kissing Teddy one more time before falling asleep.

As my days fade to night
I remember that state of mind
I'm soaring straight into your heart
And I'll fly high

OMG

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Thu, 25 Jun 2009 22:40:48 GMT

"LA Times & AP: Singer Michael Jackson dies in LA." According to FOXnews

I feel so stunned....

"I Scream For You," Terminator Salvation

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Tue, 23 Jun 2009 07:33:55 GMT

Title: I Scream For You
Fandom: Terminator Salvation
Pairing: Marcus/Blair
Rating: Teen
Summary: Blair Williams’ knew that saving Marcus was the right thing to do, no matter what anyone else thought.
Warnings: Nothing really, just spoilers.
Word Count: 3158
Notes: Inspired by the song Savin’ You by Nickelback. This is Blair’s point-of-view throughout the rescue scene.

I Scream For You

Prison gates won't open up for me
On these hands and knees I'm crawlin'
Oh, I reach for you
Well I'm terrified of these four walls
These iron bars can't hold my soul in
All I need is you
Come please I'm callin'
And oh I scream for you
Hurry I'm fallin', I'm fallin'

My hands shook only a little as I approached the holding cell. I had done a lot of ballsy shit through the years to fight against the machines, had escaped impossible odds, and had countless brushes with death, but nothing was as hard or dangerous as this. It wasn’t a hard decision to make, saving Marcus, but the consequences if I didn’t succeed were astronomical. I would be a termed a traitor and executed, and every hope that he had would be lost. I had to succeed.

My fingers had just touched the cool metal of the door lever when I heard a sudden gunshot; I jumped, the sudden excess of adrenaline making my tongue tingle. Immediately the gun shot was followed by a deep scream of gut-wrenching pain, and the realization that it was Marcus, made my stomach churn. I opened the door and walked in, seeing Barnes with the gun in his hands and Marcus, hanging in chains. The anger was swift and fierce but I smashed this down; I had to focus on the mission if I was going to get us out of this alive, kicking Barnes’ ass for hurting him would have to come later.

I approached, my eyes on Barnes before flickering to Marcus. Seeing his exposed chest and the metal that usually hid beneath his skin made my heart skip a beat. There was a moment of indecision, just a millisecond of wondering if I was doing the right thing before I shook it away. I remembered the way he had looked at me when I was fixing my shoulder, there’d been arousal there, and then I remembered his anger at the three men who had attacked me. Machines didn’t feel arousal or anger, but humans did. His body may be metal but I knew his brain was still human. If he thought he was human, then I would think so too.

“Connor wants to see you,” I greeted Barnes, my voice even and the lie perfect.

“What for?” His voice showed his hesitation and I knew then that he no longer trusted me. I had brought Marcus into their mists and if they didn’t trust Marcus then ergo they didn’t trust me. I had to make him trust me, to think that I am 100% on his side.

“Like he’s going to tell me Barnes.” I looked at Marcus, noting that he looked close to tears, before my eyes moved down to the gun in Barnes’ hand. “Let me see that.”

He handed me the gun. Feeling the cold weight of the gun in my palm made the hair at the back of my neck stand on end. I pointed the gun, my eyes connecting with Marcus’, hoping that he’d understand what I was trying to do, but knowing by the hurt look on his face that he didn’t. My finger flexed on the trigger. What if I hurt him? I aimed carefully, away from his heart and focused instead on one of his lower metal ribs. I pulled the trigger and the bullet hit the rib I had intended to hit. I expected Marcus to scream again, but he didn’t. His silence, besides a small choking sound that he repressed, and the hopeless, wounded expression that he wore, made a small part of me die inside. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to make myself shoot him again, it was too painful for both of us. I may not be able to hurt him physically with the gun, but I had hurt him emotionally.

“You want me to tell Connor you’re not coming?” I asked Barnes, keeping the gun leveled on Marcus.

I prayed then that Barnes would leave because if he expected me to shoot Marcus again I would have to turn and shoot and kill Barnes instead. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt but the truth was I had a stronger bond with Marcus after knowing him a few days then I did with Barnes after knowing him for five years. I was already half in love with Marcus Wright, machine or not.

“No,” Barnes replied and I felt relief wash through me.

He turned and left and I slowly lowered the gun, breathing deeply and evenly, trying not to come undone. I wanted to throw my arms around Marcus and beg for forgiveness, but I couldn’t, I had to act fast.

“Watch him,” Barnes instructed before the door slammed shut behind him.

I walked towards the switch on the wall and I could feel Marcus’ eyes on me. I turned, catching his gaze and then flipped the switch. He gave a short scream of surprise as he plummeted. He hit the floor below with a loud thud; I threw the clothes into the pit, and then followed him, sliding down the chain. I landed lithely on my feet and let myself look at him for a moment before rummaging through the bundle I had thrown down. I found the flame torch and fired it, beginning to cut through the heavy, thick chains that held him to the axle and the metal bar that held his legs immobile.

I worked quickly, efficiently, counting down in my head as the time that we had began to run down. I knew how much time it would take Barnes to walk across the compound to Connor, and I knew the moment that Connor realized that I had lied, the alarm would sound. I finished one side and then began to work on the other.

When I was half-way done he wrestled his way out of the rest of the chains, kicking out until the metal bar at his legs was mangled and ripped away from him. I threw him the clothes and as he shrugged on the shirt and the jacket, I arranged the explosives that we would have to use. I handed him the boots and he tied them swiftly while I kneeled close to him.

Suddenly, he grabbed me by the neck and I whimpered in surprise, fearful. Almost instantly, his grip softened, as did his once angry, hurt eyes. His hand went from my neck to my hair, his fingers softly caressing my cheek. The moment was oddly intimate and even sexually charged and for a second I was certain that he was going to kiss me, even though we were supposed to be running for our lives.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Marcus’ gaze was intense and I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. I shivered and he leaned in, but before his lips could touch mine the loud wail of the siren sounded and the warning lights began to flash. I jumped in surprise, breaking out of the trance, and we rose from crouches to a standing position. I hurried over and placed the explosives on the metal grate that separated us from the outside world; I grabbed a hold of him and dragged him away. Realizing what I was going to do, he covered my body with his as I aimed the gun and fired at the explosives. I buried my face in his shoulder as the explosion blew the metal grate off, the smoke and the dust making me cough and my eyes water.

He pulled me over to the hole as the sparks settled down around us. “Get in,” he instructed, helping me crawl into the large metal pipe that would lead us outside.

Above us I could hear others arriving and the sounds of guns being cocked. “Get him,” I heard someone say and then before I could even take another breath, bullets rained down around him. He effortlessly lifted the metal grate over his head and crouched down, angling the grate so that the bullets ricocheted away from me.

I think I screamed his name, my heart beating erratically, but I wasn’t sure when there was so much gun fire. The shots ended and he threw the grate away from him, giving a yell of defiance, glaring up at them. He jumped into the pipe with me. “Get down!” he yelled, pushing me down and once again covering my body with his.

The flames descended down around us and I felt him grasp me tighter, making sure he was covering me as much as he could. The heat from the fire made it difficult to breathe and my fingers dug into him in desperation. The flames receded and I threw my head back, inhaling sharply. The pipe was filled with the left over heat and stench of singed hair and burning flesh. I grabbed onto his arm but winced when I touched burning hot metal instead of human flesh.

“Let’s move,” he said, pulling me up.

We ran through the pipe twenty or so feet before reaching a dead end and a ladder leading up. He climbed up first, me following close behind. Marcus punched the hatch out and jumped through and then pulled me out with him. It was dark out and I took a deep breath, knowing that this was going to be the hardest part….

“We’re back in the mine field,” Marcus uttered, looking around, undoubtedly thinking about what had happened last time.

“I have a plan,” I said and then threw the line.

I pressed down on the lever and the resulting explosions rocked the earth beneath our feat. A path now clear for him, he took hold of my arm and we ran. My legs pumped beneath me and I breathed hard, my lungs already aching and a stitch forming in my side. More explosions followed and I lowered my head instinctively, screaming as I suddenly tripped over a hole, going down hard. Marcus stopped and crouched down next to me. He swept my hair back, holding my head tenderly.

“Are you okay?” he asked, urgently.

I nodded, gasping for breath. “I’m okay.”

Suddenly the spot light hit us, blinding me. The whistle of a rocket broke through the sudden silence and we turned, my eyes widening when I saw it coming right toward us. My heart stopped for a second but then started again double time as Marcus pulled me up and away. “Run!” he screamed and then the jeep exploded behind us in a rush of heat and flying shrapnel.

We ran again, bullets following behind, kicking up the dirt and narrowly missing us. We reached the wall and stopped, squatting down against it, shielded from the bullets for at least a minute.

“Now what?” he asked.

“My plan stopped at the jeep,” I replied, shaking me head as my heart sank. How was I going to get us out now?

He nodded and peeked around the edge of the wall but then jerked back immediately as the bullets blew through the edge of the cinder blocks, where his head had just been.

“I’ll draw their fire, you take out the light.”

I nodded and grabbed my gun, moving towards the nearest hole so that I could aim and fire. Calculatingly, Marcus moved his hand out into the light, in range of their bullets. With a burst of noise, they fired and this time Marcus wasn’t fast enough to jerk his arm back. The bullets ripped into hand, tearing away his human skin like it was paper. I fired at the light, pulling the trigger three times in short succession, effectively shutting it down. Marcus stared at his hand, as if shocked to see the metal plating of his palm. I went to him, reholstering my gun.

Then, the spot light was back, but this time in front of us, revealing our exact location to the snipers.

“Go!” The firing began and we moved quickly, running onward. “Keep your head down! GO, GO!” Marcus yelled over the sound of the flying bullets coming in every direction.

I felt a shooting pain, like liquid fire through my leg and I fell, grunting in pain. Marcus skidded to a halt and ran back, hauling me up and running with me, nearly dragging me behind him, seeming unfazed by my added weight. “Come on, come on!”

We stopped for a moment behind a mound of rubble and he squatted down next to me, my breaths coming out in hard, sharp pants, the pain in my leg making it worse. “You alright?” His eyes were wide in the dark, determined but worried.

“Let’s get you out of here,” I replied and inhaled sharply when he leaned in, his forehead against mine.

Continuing to run, he kept my body pressed close to his side, blocking me from the bullets. My leg was close to useless and each step became more and more difficult.

“There they are!” I heard one of the snipers yell and we dived down, Marcus covering my head. Suddenly a rocket exploded directly behind us, shrouding us in billowing dirt but leaving us amazingly uninjured.

“Marcus, leave me,” I muttered urgently, grasping his jacket.

“No,” he spat, trying to tug me forward.

“I’m slowing you down, just leave me….”

“They’ll hurt you!”

I shook my head, pulling his jacket off of him and shrugging it on. “It doesn’t matter Marcus, just go.”

“Yes, god-damn it does matter, you fucking matter!”

I pushed him away and I fell into the dirt. He was shaking his head. “Please Marcus, please.”

The dirt was just beginning to settle but I could see him well enough to spot a single tear run down his dirty cheek. Marcus whispered my name, then cursed, and turned away, running through the dirt cloud that had been formed. I saw lights approaching, heard the shouts and turned on my stomach, placing my hands over my head. Marcus’ jacket hung around my form, making me look enough like him to buy him a few more crucial seconds. I heard a series of commands and waited. “Stay on the ground!” “Keep an eye on him!” And then finally… “Flip him!”

I felt a strong hand on my middle and then I was flipped over onto my back. I looked up at the man but knew him only vaguely. “What the fuck!” he cried, surprised. “It’s not him, it’s Williams!” he yelled to the others, roughly hauling me to my feet.

“Where’d it go you stupid bitch?” the man holding me asked.

My hands curled into fists and I considered hitting him… I was likely going to die anyways and above all else I hated being called bitch. He shook me then, my teeth rattling in my head, and I tasted blood when he backhanded me across the mouth. I swung and caught him in the side of head. He let me go, dazed by my blow and I did what any other woman would have done… I kneed him in gonads. He screamed like a girl and went down, holding his crotch.

“Who’s a bitch now?” I taunted, even as I felt my arms being jerked behind my back and my wrists tied together.

They took my gun away, slapping the bullet wound in my leg with the butt of my own gun. I gritted my teeth together and suppressed a scream. They had walked me a few feet, two soldiers on either side of me, when I suddenly saw Marcus across the field, crouching in the dirt. I kept my eyes on him for as long as I could, certain then that it was probably going to be the last time I ever saw Marcus.

****

They took me back down and tied me to a chair, leaving me alone in a dark room in the very bowels of the compound. I waited silently for my fate, my hands growing numb from the tightness of the ropes that bound me. “Please let Marcus have gotten away,” I whispered to myself, feeling a tear fall from the corner of my eye.

Twenty minutes later I looked up as the door opened with a bang. It was Conner, and he didn’t look particularly pleased.

“Why’d you do it?” he asked immediately, his machine gun slung over his shoulder.

“I saw a man, not a machine,” I replied, staring at him steadily, not looking away, already half expecting him to grab the gun and finish me. I was going to die, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t been right. John Conner was a great man but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be wrong, and I knew he’d been wrong about Marcus, and that gave me enough peace to hold his gaze.

Connor pressed his lips together, looking conflicted, confused, and unsure of himself. I knew then that Marcus had gotten away, but more than that, I knew that Connor had let him go. He backed away and banged on the door, telling the guards to let him out.

“How’s that leg?” he asked me.

“I’ll live,” I replied, realizing a second later that it was an ironic think to say. The leg wouldn’t kill me, but there was still a very good chance that they would.

He walked away and just as he was out of sight, I heard him command to the guards that they let me go. My eyes widened and I shook my head, and knew that if anyone else but Connor had been in charge here, that my brains would have been splattered against the wall behind me.

The guards came in, still glaring at me and untied me with rough, jerking fingers. Once I was completely untied, I pulled out of their angry grasps and limped away, my head held high. I made my way to my cot, walking through the halls and enduring the looks and mutterings. “Machine lover,” they hissed at me, but I ignored them.

I reached my cot and sunk down. Kate came and bandaged my leg a few minutes later; thankfully the bullet had come out of the other side so she didn’t have to dig it out, saving me from more pain. She gave me a shot of antibiotics and then left me alone.

My mind and body numb, I lay down on the cot, pulling the blanket over me to keep away the cold of the night. I turned on my side and closed my eyes. I pictured Marcus in my mind and pulled the blanket tighter around me, the cold settling in. I wished then that he was with me, remembering his heat and comfort from his beating heart. I was sure then that what ever happened, Marcus was more than worth it.

…I'll show you what I can be
Say it for me
Say it to me
And I'll leave this life behind me
Say it if it's worth saving me

"Come Alive," Terminator Salvation

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 02:23:45 GMT

Title: Come Alive
Fandom: Terminator Salvation
Pairing: Marcus/Blair
Rating: Adult
Summary: It was only in moments like this when Marcus thought he must still have his soul, because it felt like she was looking into it.
Word Count: 1214
Warnings: AU (completely ignores the end of TS), angst at the beginning, some fluff at the end, and sexing ;).
Notes: Inspired by the song Come Alive by Foo Fighters (particularly the last three minutes of the song).

Come Alive

I lay there in the dark and I closed my eyes
You saved me the day you came alive
No reason left me to survive
You saved me the day you came alive

On nights like this, Marcus Wright wished he was still human enough for a smoke, or better yet a beer. He felt… antsy, nervous, like something was wrong, but he couldn’t figure out what. He sat silently, stoically, while watching Blair sleep; she was sprawled naked across their bed, her skin still having that appealing, light sheen of sweat from their earlier lovemaking. Marcus sucked in a deep breath of air, not really needing the oxygen it provided, but instead wishing it was a shot of nicotine to his non-existent lungs.

He shifted in his seat, unashamedly naked, and his eyes traveled around the room, unconsciously searching for threats, analyzing any weaknesses in the room. This was the machine part of his hybrid make up. After Skynet had been blown sky high, Kate Connor had done a complete run down on him, trying to find out how much of him was human and how much was machine. Physically, he was nearly all machine, even his heart, his original human heart, had been toyed with and improved by the aid of technology. Mentally, on the other hand, he was still mostly human. For the most part he felt and thought like any other human being. His brain, unlike his heart, had had little tampering, and it was only when he was worried that he became more machine like and analytical.

Even though there was no programming in his brain and Kate had disconnected every sensor that connected him to Skynet, sometimes there was a vague sense in the back his mind of something else out there. When it was particularly strong, like now, he knew that Skynet was likely planning something and preparing to attack.

His blue eyes found Blair again and stayed fixed on her. Blair Williams was the most important thing in his life. It was ironic to him that he had to live a half-existence… be one of the un-dead to love. He never loved a woman when he was alive. In fact, Marcus wasn’t sure that he had ever felt this deeply for another person before.

Marcus watched as she shifted, moving in bed, her toned, slim arm searching for him in the darkness. Even though he couldn’t sleep, he spent most nights with her, his heat and the beating of his heart soothing her, and he was always more than happy to lay beside her.

“Marcus?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

“I’m here,” he replied, getting up from his chair and going to her, standing beside the bed.

Blair reached for him, fingers curling around the cool, exposed metal of his left hand, and tugged. “What’s wrong Marcus?”

He laid down beside her, carefully curling his arms around her and bringing her close to his chest, his back to the door, ready to block her from any possible enemy attack. She laid her ear directly above his heart and listened for a moment before turning her head and kissing where his heart lay. She didn’t ask again what was wrong, already knowing the answer from past experiences.

Marcus’ fingers ran softly up and down her back and he waited for the feeling to grow stronger or to, hopefully, dissipate. If it dissipated, Marcus knew that they weren’t in any danger, but if it grew stronger than he would have to wake up Connor and let him know that the machines were coming. Thankfully, minutes later, it went away slowly, eventually fading away to nothing and his body lost most its nervous rigidness.

When she felt him relax, Blair hooked her leg over his waist and knowing what she wanted, he rolled them so that he was on his back and she was on top. “Marcus…” she whispered as she undulated her hips over him, causing him to grow hard beneath her.

His hands went to her hips, careful not to grasp her too tightly, and she leaned down to kiss him. She tastes like… life always, he thought, his tongue running softly across her full bottom lip before she let him in. Hot, slick, perfect…. Then, his fingers went into her hair, curling the strands around his good fingers. Desire pooled further in his belly at the sound of her whimper, and carefully he rolled them over, making sure his weight wasn’t crushing her. Blair wrapped her legs around his waist and she arched her back, gasping as his erection brushed against her clit.

Thankfully this was completely unchanged, he could love her like this as much as she wanted, and like any man, he wanted her every second of every day. He guided himself into her, his breathing erratic, supporting himself on one arm as he slid in slowly. Marcus chuckled huskily while her finger nails dug into his shoulders, attempting to urge him on.

“You’re a tease,” she murmured, lifting her hips to take more of him into her body.

“Only for you babe,” Marcus breathed, groaning as her tight warmth enveloped him completely. The truth was that there was no other woman, because most other women looked at him like they expected him to pull out a gun and shoot them at any moment. But if there was a possibility for someone else, Marcus knew he wouldn’t take that opportunity. He doubted anything would feel as good as this did, and he wanted only her. He came alive with her, and he was most human in her arms. No one else would ever come close. Toes curling, Marcus began to thrust, their foreheads touching and eyes connected. It was only in moments like this when Marcus thought he must still have his soul, because it felt like she was looking into it.

“Harder…” she uttered, flexing her inner muscles around him.

Clenching his eyes shut, he growled a short, hard fuck, and then suddenly his hands were on her butt, and then her legs, hiking them higher and thrusting hard. She gasped and arched her back, grabbing onto his sides for leverage.

Marcus lost himself in her, his hands fisted in the thread bare blankets on either side of her head as he drove into her. He felt her fingers slip in between them and she stroked her clit in time with his powerful thrusts, coming a short time later with a gasp and a short cry. He watched her as she fell apart, entranced, and her walls clamping down around him triggered his own orgasm. He pumped into her a half a dozen more times before coming with a groan, his fingers digging so hard into the blankets that he felt the threads give way.

He made sure he collapsed to the side, and Blair immediately curled into his body, her hair tickling his skin lightly. She fell asleep quickly, her breath steady and deep against his chest. He watched her as she slept, and noticed the little smile playing about her lips even in sleep, making his own lips quirk into a half-grin. His fingers played with the ends of her dark hair and he waited for the sun to rise, perfectly content with his spot next to her.

Randomness

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Sat, 20 Jun 2009 17:30:20 GMT

Ah... the sweet feeling of an earthquake waking me up at 5:30 in the morning. All part of the adventure of living in California. Personally, I could deal with losing the earthquakes....

And a Anton Yelchin (as Kyle Reese) icon to make it all better. ;)

Terminator Salvation fanvideo

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Fri, 19 Jun 2009 08:34:10 GMT

Title: When I'm Gone
Fandom: Terminator Salvation
Pairing: Marcus/Blair
Song Artist: 3 Doors Down
Notes: This video is also available here, and if anyone is interested I will provide a download link.

Terminator Salvation: Marcus Wright (When I'm Gone) from Ellie K. on Vimeo.

hd_career_fair

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Wed, 17 Jun 2009 05:00:12 GMT

It's official... I'm a fest/prompt whore. All day I've been resisting signing up for hd_career_fairand just a moment ago I failed... miserably. I've never even written Harry/Draco, hell I've barely even read Harry/Draco! But some of those prompts were just so freaking good... *shivers in delight*.

Seriously, is there a fest support group?

Me: "Hello, I'm Ellie and I've been addicted to Fests for awhile now, whatever I do I can't say no to one."

The rest of the group in unison: "Hello, Ellie."

Oh... and pimpage!

artwork by heathen_arcadehd_career_fairCLAIMING NOW IS OPEN!!!

"Trust, Chapter 2," Stephanie Plum

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 22:15:27 GMT

Title: Trust
Chapter 2: Russian Roulette
Fandom: Stephanie Plum
Rating: Adult
Pairing: Ranger/Stephanie
Summary: Ranger asks Stephanie a few questions and Stephanie sees things clearly for the first time. Meant to take place during FLF. Babefic.
Word Count (this chapter): 2308
Notes: Notes are under cut. Okay, well, originally “Trust” was just going to be a one-shot but then I decided that I wanted to see the story through until Ranger and Stephanie got together so here is chapter 2. But please be warned that this is going to be a different story then most, since JE is going to be writing the mystery parts I won’t do that, I will write the parts she probably won’t write, the cute, sexy, and funny scenes with Ranger and Stephanie. Which means that while I may reference the problems at Rangeman and the dude that is chopping people’s heads off, this story is not about that. And there is a very real chance that I probably won’t solve the mystery by the end of this story, I’ll leave JE to do that.

This story will probably end up being about four chapters long and as you will notice the rating has gone up for language and for the fun stuff that will be at the end. ;)

Chapter 2: Russian Roulette

While waiting for Joe to come over ten minutes later for our long awaited “talk,” I was certain that I had completely lost my mind. I had often wondered through the last three years if I had left my mind behind the moment I stepped into Vincent Plum Bail Bonds and asked for a job from my sleazy cousin, but now I was certain that I had. I was betting the future of my love life, which would then affect every other aspect of my crazy life, on a vague hope that Ranger had changed his mind. I couldn’t actually see a life with Joe working out the way he wanted it to but at the same time I didn’t want to be alone. I did the alone thing after Dickie and I didn’t care much for it.

What if Ranger hadn’t changed his mind? What if the conversation was just about a freak sun spot that had frazzled Ranger’s mind for a few crucial seconds? I paced around my apartment, my headache and the wound in my arm forgotten as doubts began to creep into my mind. I didn’t want to back out but it felt like I was playing Russian Roulette with two bullets instead of just one. But now it felt like I couldn’t back out if I lost my nerve, I had told Ranger that I was considering a permanent “off” with Joe. It felt like I would be lying and worse, letting Ranger down if I changed my mind. The revolver was glued to my hand and I had to pull the trigger no matter what the chances of figuratively blowing my head off were.

In the middle of my pacing I heard a key in the lock. I turned and watched as Joe swung the door open, stepping into my apartment and closing the door behind him. He was dressed in his usual jeans and t-shirt but his face was anything but casual, his cop face was firmly in place. He knew what was coming and at least that made it easier, what I was about to say wasn’t going to come as a surprise. I wasn’t taken aback that he knew what I was going to say. I had never willingly “talked” before, after all living in the land of denial was easier than facing my problems. And the way I had spoken on the phone… “we have to talk,” would probably always be construed as bad, the words that ended a relationship.

“How’s the arm, Cupcake?” he asked, nodding towards my bandage.

I shrugged, my nerves making my annoying eye twitch come on full force. “Not too bad, the bullet just grazed me. Philip Esposito is gun happy.”

“Yeah I know, he came into the station complaining of a broken arm.”

I winced at his accusatory tone, remembering how Ranger had practically wrenched Esposito’s arm off for having shot me. While the picture hadn’t been pretty, Esposito’s squeals had been rather humorous and I felt my lips twitch in a smile at the memory. Joe’s lips tightened and I cleared my throat, wondering where to begin.

“Joe, I’ve been thinking….”

He sighed and his cop face slipped off, revealing how tired he looked. I didn’t want to break his heart but this had to be done, for both of us. The sooner we were officially over, the sooner he could be happy, because I know the way I was now wasn’t making him happy. He wanted a wife, someone he could come home to, and I didn’t fault him for it, but I didn’t, couldn’t be that woman.

“I’ve known for a long time that we both wanted different things out of life but I don’t think I can live anymore with the back and forth between us, it’s not… healthy.” I took a deep breath and kept eye contact with him, knowing that looking down, no matter how uncomfortable I felt wasn’t an option. “I think we would both be happier if we broke it off permanently.”

I guess I expected a lot of hand waving and yelling but he didn’t, he just nodded slowly as if agreeing with me. “I was hoping that you were just sowing your wild oats over the last couple of years, and that you’d…” he paused for a second, “grow out of it.”

I shook my head. “No Joe… I don’t I ever going to grow out of being me. I don’t want a normal job, or a normal life. I don’t always like my job, but on the good days I really do enjoy being a bounty hunter.” There was more that I could say, so much more, but this was going better than I expected it to and I didn’t want to ruin it. The truth was, the job was minor, but it was the people that I had met and continued to meet because of my job that mattered. I would never have met Ranger if I hadn’t been a bounty hunter, or Lula and Sally Sweet. In particular, I couldn’t imagine not knowing Ranger, in the span of three years he’d become the most important person in my life.

Joe and I were silent for a moment before I spoke again. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out Joe,” I whispered and absentmindedly kicked at my carpet. I was sorry and knew that in a different life, falling in love with Joe would have been easy, but that life wouldn’t have had Ranger in it.

“So am I, Cupcake.” He took his keys out of his pocket and pulled my apartment key off, holding it for a moment before setting it down softly on the cheap end table next to my couch. The key made a clinking sound and it reminded me of a sound of finality, like a door closing on an era in my life.

Strangely enough, I didn’t feel sad about letting Morelli go. I felt like I always did when I cleaned my apartment after I had let it get really dirty; there was a sense of accomplishment, like I had just done something I should have done a long time ago… I was proud of myself for biting the bullet and doing it. I would miss him, he’d been a constant in my life too long for me not to, but I also knew that if we spent enough time apart, that we could easily be just friends.

“I’ll see you around Cupcake,” he said before repocketing his keys and giving me a goodbye hug. He left then and I gave him a little finger wave as he took the stairs down; I closed the door after him and just like that Joe Morelli and I were over for good.

****

The next morning, I started my day with a cup of coffee, two donuts, and a stack of background reports on all of Rangeman’s employees that Ranger had dropped off the day before. He’d been over them before of course but he was hoping that my spidey sense would pick something up; so far, I wasn’t having any luck. I was currently combing through Cal’s report, thinking that were just some things you didn’t need to know about other people.

About half way through donut number two and thinking that I really should have gotten a third, my phone rang. Seeing Ranger’s number on the display made all the memories from yesterday come rushing back and I felt my stomach clench. I was still in the middle of my figurative game of Russian Roulette; I had spun the chamber but had yet to pull the trigger. Breaking up with Morelli, while hard had been surprisingly painless. I had shed a few tears in the shower this morning over the emotional turmoil but I was feeling pretty good about the break up. The source of the tears was more about what I had to do next. Now that Morelli was out of the picture, I wondered what I was going to do about Ranger. I wanted Ranger, but knew that fundamentally I wouldn’t be able to handle a “no strings attached, sex only” kind of relationship. But that was fundamentally, past experiences had shown me that I didn’t have the best control where Ranger was concerned. Now that Morelli wasn’t a factor anymore, I could imagine it being all too easy to throw that conviction out the window.

Breathing in deeply I answered. “Yo,” I greeted.

“Yo, Babe.” I honestly did not expect the rush of longing I got when I heard his voice and I had to bite my lip to keep in a whimper… apparently I wasn’t very successful. “You okay?” his voice had grown serious, concerned.

“Oh, I’m fine, just uh… bumped my arm.” Perhaps getting shot wasn’t such a bad thing after all, it did provide me with some excellent excuses.

Ranger was silent for a long moment and I began to wonder if he knew what the whimper had really been about… damn ESP. “I’ll be there in twenty, I don’t want you driving.” And then he hung up before I could even begin to form words.

I rolled my eyes and hit end, muttering about phone manners as I quickly finished my coffee. After the last swallow I threw away the wrappers to my donuts (now deeply wishing I had had a third, I was going to need another shot of sugar to make it through the day without humping Ranger’s thigh like a dog). I hurried through the rest of my morning routine, brushing my teeth, dressing, and then applying my makeup. While brushing on my mascara I stared at myself in the mirror, giving myself a pep talk before Ranger showed up.

“Okay Stephanie,” I began, speaking aloud, “this is what’s going to happen today: you’re going to go to work and you’re going to find out who’s stealing those codes from within Rangeman. Then you’re not going to get involved in the case of the decapitating, machete wielding freak; then, most importantly, you’re not going to beg Ranger to sleep with you, because not only would that be pathetic but the morning after would be disastrous.” I finished my little talk with a firm nod of my head as I finished my mascara and slipped the tube in my purse.

Three minutes later I was tidying up the Rangeman files when my locks tumbled, informing me that my twenty minutes were up; I glanced at the watch and confirmed that it had been exactly twenty minutes since Ranger had called… how did he do that? I wondered. I stacked the last Rangeman file (Lester’s) on top of my large pile as Ranger opened my door. I inhaled deeply and then let the breath out slowly, reiterating my earlier pep talk to myself before turning around to face him.

Like most days he was dressed all in black, his shirt clinging tightly to his chest and his biceps, and his cargos perfectly showcasing one of his best assets (and yes the pun was intended). Truth was, while his butt was just about perfect (oh who was I kidding? It was damn fine) I had seen his best asset up close and personal and it was perfect. Knowing that he was going commando underneath those black cargos was making my pulse go crazy and I had to check for drool just to make sure. Maybe resisting him was going to be even harder than I thought…. “Fuck he’s hot,” I thought and then blushed hard when his wolf grin appeared. Stupid Stephanie, you’re not supposed to say that shit out loud, remember the pep talk?

“Thank you Babe, I often think the same thing about you,” he said, looking me up and down and if possible his grin widened. I was thinking that his smile could probably melt gold it was so blinding. “I like seeing you in black.”

I swallowed hard, my knees wobbly and had to clench my thighs together tightly to make sure they just didn’t just fall open under the weight of his lustful gaze. “Y—You didn’t have to come pick me up, my arm isn’t that bad…” I said, my voice annoyingly breathy.

He lost some of his “you-know-you-want-to-fuck-me look” and shook his head. “You shift with that arm, it’s not worth the risk.” That made sense, but even though I loved seeing him and his cars were always about a hundred times better than mine, being around him more than what was absolutely necessary made the no sex thing all the more difficult. He nodded towards the files and I tried to get my mind out of the gutter and back to business. “Did you find anything suspicious?” he asked.

I shook my head as we walked out of my apartment. I locked the door behind us, wondering if I should even bother locking it, my locks were the worst in New Jersey after all. “No, nothing yet. Everyone so far seems to be just as they seem,” I uttered as we walked down the stairs and I gazed at the elevator longingly as we past it.

Ranger blew out a puff of breath, about as close to a sigh as he was probably ever going to get. “Giordano Jewelers in Newark was broken into last night, they’ve been under contract with us ever since I started Rangeman.”

“Shit,” I muttered, groaning. I’d heard of Giordano’s and knew that it was one of the more upscale jewelry stores on the east coast. “How much was taken?”

“Almost fifty-million dollars worth of merchandise,” Ranger replied, beeping the passenger side door open on the Turbo.

I stared at him over the top of the car, horrified. “Holy fuckity-fuck,” I exclaimed.

“That about sums it up Babe.”

"Trust," Stephanie Plum

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Sun, 14 Jun 2009 06:20:21 GMT

Title: Trust
Fandom: Stephanie Plum
Pairing: Ranger/Stephanie
Rating: Teen
Summary: Ranger asks Stephanie a few questions and Stephanie sees things clearly for the first time.
Word Count: 1703
Notes: Just a small moment I hope will be in Finger Lickin’ Fifteen. Inspired by the excerpts posted on JE’s site.

Trust

“Getting shot sucks,” I stated lamely, my head resting back against Ranger’s plush, ultra-comfortable Porsche seats. Even though Ranger was in his zone, staring calmly and from outward appearances, emotionlessly, through the windshield, he did flick his eyes in my general direction.

“Babe.”

Now, his ‘Babe’s can mean a lot of things, but from previous experiences I knew that he was probably amused and maybe just a little bit exasperated; hell, I was exasperated at myself too… I hated getting shot and having to spend my afternoons in the ER. It was late now, the afternoon having past slowly, and it was nearly completely dark out except for a thin strip of light at the horizon.

We drove the rest of the way to my apartment in silence, the only sound being the purring of the engine and our own breathing. Even though we didn’t open our mouths again that didn’t mean that my mind wasn’t going working, trying to make sense of the crazy past few days. I was not only still chasing skips (and apparently still getting shot by the ballsy, rogue skips even though Ranger had been in attendance) but also snooping around Rangeman, with Ranger’s permission. I couldn’t imagine someone from the inside of Rangeman going behind their boss’s back to steal from clients… did they have a death wish?

We reached my apartment building and Ranger parked before coming around to help me out of the car. I was feeling tired and my head was pounding, and he knew it. We took the elevator up and I stayed out in the hall as he checked through my apartment for any crazy stalkers—or maybe all stalkers were crazy? I was too tired to think about it right then.

“All clear,” he said from inside and I walked in. Immediately heading to the couch, I plopped down with a groan. Ranger handed me a water bottle and I drank from it slowly as he sat down too… I was surprised that he had stayed.

“Ranger?” I turned my head to look at him and he responded with a simple nod of his head. “Did you mean what you said before, that you trust me right now, more than you trust Tank?” I was having difficulty imagining Ranger not trusting Tank completely. Tank was Ranger’s right hand man and I suppose his best friend, why would he trust me more?

Ranger was silent, gazing at me steadily for a moment before responding. “I always mean what I say, Babe.”

I nodded my head. That made sense, Ranger never wasted his words and if he said something, he meant it. “But why do you trust me more? Tank’s your best friend….”

Ranger lifted his arm and brushed a lock of hair behind my ear, the touch of his skin on mine making me shiver. “Steph, you show everything that you’re feeling on your face. You couldn’t deceive me. Like right now, I know that you want me bad.”

I cursed my crazy hormones but said nothing. The truth was I always wanted him, stupid Cuban Sex God. I turned my head and faced forward, knowing that the longer I looked at him, the chances of me accidentally jumping his bones increased.

He chuckled but then we fell into mostly comfortable silence. A few minutes passed before he got up to leave. I followed him, Burg manners dictating that I show him to the door.

Ranger suddenly stopped just before opening my door and turned around to face me. I half expected him to kiss me and I was surprised (and disappointed) when he didn’t.

“Do you want to know why I trust you?”

I smiled. “What will the information cost me?” My smile faded as his face became completely stoic. “Sorry, that didn’t come out the way I expected it to.” I blushed red and looked down, fingering the bandage on my arm. His fingers lifted my chin and suddenly I was looking into his dark eyes, my breath caught in my throat. This was as close as we had ever gotten to actually talking about that one night.

“I trust you, because you trust me,” he said evenly. “Even though knowing me isn’t always good for your health.”

My brows furrowed, confused. “I always trust you, implicitly… what do you mean knowing you isn’t good for my health? You’ve saved my ass more times than I can count.”

“Scrog.”

I scoffed, shaking my head.

“If we had never met, he never would have hurt you,” he continued, speaking simply.

“I guess that might be true but it doesn’t change anything… it’s not like I would go back and change anything about meeting you. You’re my friend and you’re going to stay that way.” This was also the first time Scrog had come up in any of our conversations. It still pained me to think back to that fiasco and I knew that it bothered Ranger. My eyes flickered to the scar barely visible on his neck and felt shivers go up and down my spine. The truth was while I knew Ranger better than most people, and we’d even slept together, we had never talked like this before. I never liked talking about “feelings” and Ranger… was well Ranger.

“Why do you trust me?” he asked and I stared at him. This conversation had taken a turn to the unknown and wacky.

“B—Because I do, you’re my friend.”

“Babe you called me less than a week after our first meeting to tell me that you were handcuffed naked in your shower. Why did you trust me then?” Ranger asked, his face intense.

“Who else was I going to call, my mother? That conversation would have gone over real well.”

His eyes narrowed. “There were a lot of people you could have called, people you had known for longer than a couple of days.”

I bit my lip, searching for an answer, but finding that I didn’t really have one. “I—I just trusted you, I don’t know how to explain it.”

His gaze remained steady, his eyes burning into my own blue ones until I felt like he was reading my soul… it was disconcerting. “And that’s why I trust you, I don’t why, I just know that I do,” he finished

I smiled, lips quirking upwards, finding that difficult conversations with Ranger were a lot different then talking to Morelli. If were to say something that Ranger disagreed with or didn’t like, I knew it probably wouldn’t end in a shouting match. “I thought you were supposed to know everything, you’re Bruce Wayne.”

His hand lifted and he cupped my face, his palm warm on my cheek. His thumb caressed my skin. “What’s with you and Morelli?” he asked suddenly.

I opened my mouth and had to force the words out, when he was this close to me I felt more than a little unbalanced, and the sudden switch in topics was confusing. “We’re in an ‘off’ phase.”

“And how long do you think that is going to last?”

I thought back to before, when he had said that if Morelli was out of my bed for long that he would be back in it. How long would it last? That was a good question. He’d said before that my back and forth with Joe was unhealthy behavior and even though I hadn’t wanted to hear it then or think about it now, he was right. The thought of getting back together with Morelli was unappealing. “I’m considering permanently.”

His nostrils flared and his eyes flashed but other then that there was no other expression on his face, but I knew him well him enough to know that I had surprised him.

“Why permanently?”

“A friend once told me that it was an unhealthy pattern of behavior, and I’m taking it to heart,” I whispered.

He nodded and I could tell that he was thinking about smiling. “That’s good advice, Babe.”

“I think so too.”

He leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead, lips lingering for a moment before he pulled away. My heart was beating a mile per minute and I was a few seconds away from begging him to do more than kiss me on the temple.

“Later, Babe, call me if you need me,” he instructed before leaving, closing and locking the door, my locks tumbling into place.

Like his ‘Babe’s, that ‘need’ had more than one meaning. I could call him for any reason, if I needed help to get out of one of my usual sticky situations, or if I just needed backup. But I also knew that somewhere, somehow something had changed. If Morelli was out of the picture, the ball was in my court instead of in Ranger’s; if I needed him, wanted him, then I would have to make the first move. Ranger wouldn’t seduce me, he knew he wouldn’t have to.

Even though there hadn’t been anything overtly sexual about our encounter, just being near him had sent my body and heart into a frenzy. I ran my shaking hand through my curly hair and bit my lip, turning to face my suddenly empty apartment. The moment between us had been tender, intimate, and loving. I swallowed hard and sunk back onto the couch, the phone next to me on the other cushion, almost begging to be picked up and used.

My fingers twitched and with a surprising moment of clarity I grabbed it and hit the appropriate speed dial button, holding my breath as it rang.

“Joe we need to talk,” I said when the person on the other end answered.

If I was going to end the unhealthy pattern of behavior, then I had to start now, not later. Life had suddenly turned the world upside down and I couldn’t fight the progression of my feelings anymore, that much was clear. I was in love with Ranger but not Joe. I loved Joe, but not in the same way. It wasn’t fair to Ranger, Joe, or myself to keep fighting it… even if Ranger hadn’t changed his mind about relationships, but God, I hoped he had.

Looking for a beta!

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Fri, 12 Jun 2009 05:47:25 GMT

Ack! weasley_fest is due sometime tomorrow (the 13th) and I'm looking for someone who would be willing to beta for me in the next 32ish hours. It's a short (around 2000 words) canon story (it's PG-13 het as well) and I don't think it will take too long to beta. Pretty please with sugar on top?

"The Badge," James Sirius Potter

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Sat, 30 May 2009 01:03:05 GMT

Title: The Badge
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: James II, Albus Severus, Daddy!Harry
Rating: Any Age
Summary: All James wanted to do was play with his father's badge.
Warnings: Fluff
Notes: Written for Round 1, Challenge 3 at next_gen_ldws:).

One day, when Harry was home, James snuck into his parents’ bedroom to find one of his favorite play things, his dad’s Auror badge. Deftly climbing up the dresser, where he knew the badge would be, he picked it up and pinned it to the front of his t-shit, touching it fondly.

“Jamie, whatcha doin’?”

James peeked over the edge of the dresser at his little brother. “Al, stop following me around.”

Albus pouted. “Daddy said you’re not supposed to climb.”

“He won’t find out if you don’t tell.” James stuck his tongue out at Al and turned around so that he could scuttle down the dresser.

“I’m no tattle-tale,” Al muttered indignantly.

Suddenly, James missed his second step and slipped, but before James could hit the floor he was thankfully caught firmly in his father’s arms.

“James Potter, how many times have I told you to not climb up the dresser?”

James blushed with guilt. “Er… lots?”

Harry sighed and spotted his badge on his son’s shirt. “If you wanted to play with my badge you could have just asked.”

“Sorry Dad,” James mumbled.

Harry put him back down on the floor next to Albus and ruffled their messy hair. “Make sure you don’t lose it, now go out and have some fun.”
As the two boys ran out of the room, arguing about who got to be the bad guy and who got to be the Auror, Harry grinned and shook his head, chuckling at his sons’ antics.

"Incentive," Draco/Victoire

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Fri, 29 May 2009 17:42:39 GMT

Title: Incentive
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Draco/Victoire
Rating: Adult
Summary: Draco makes Victoire beg.
Warnings: Light bondage, cross-gen, light spanking
Word count: ~ 249
Notes: Written for Round 1 - challenge 2 at next_gen_ldws.

They were in his office at Malfoy Manor, the doors locked against any unwanted intruders, namely Astoria and any wayward house elves. Victoire was naked and bent over the desk, breasts pressed uncomfortably into the desk top.

“Beg, Victoire,” Draco ordered, caressing her arse as she strained against her bonds.

Victoire mewled and then choked on a cry as her employer’s hand struck her, turning her freckled skin a light pink. She bucked, pulling at the ropes that bound her wrists to the floor, and felt the cool silver of her new wolf charm shake against her wrist. She had reluctantly agreed to being tied up, Draco having given her the new charm as incentive to agree, but she had never expected to be spanked.

“I don’t like that,” she hissed quietly, remembering that he hadn’t placed a silencing charm on the room.

Draco’s fingers wandered down and ran along her wet slit. “Oh, I beg to differ, you’re soaking, at any moment now you’ll be dripping on the floor, you hungry slut.”

Victoire’s cheeks reddened and she ground her teeth together.

“Don’t try to hide it, you’re practically gagging for it.” Draco slipped two fingers inside her, smirking at the way she moaned. “Now beg.”

Swallowing thickly, Victoire gave in. “Please fuck me.”

Draco removed his fingers and quickly replaced them with his cock, filling her completely as she moaned loudly. “Quiet Ms. Weasley, you wouldn’t want anyone to find you in this compromising position, now would you?”

"Beloved," Spock/Uhura

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Fri, 29 May 2009 16:56:39 GMT

Title: Beloved
Fandom: Star Trek
Characters/Pairings: Nyota Uhura, (Spock/Uhura)
Rating: Any Age
Warnings: Angst
Word Count: ~500
Summary: You had so many opportunities to tell him, to show how deeply you felt but never once did you take the chance.
Notes: Takes place during the original time line, at the end of The Wrath of Kahn, but the end ties into the reboot, somewhat (you’ll see). Written for my Spock/Uhura Table 1, Prompt 028—Trapped. You don’t necessarily need to know anything about TOS to read this just know that this takes place around 2285 and that Uhura is in her late 40s-early 50s.

Beloved

Sometimes, around him, you felt like a ridiculous little girl, pining after him. You were certain on most days he knew how you felt, knew that when you went to sleep, Spock was the last thing you thought of.

It’s embarrassing to you, even though nobody else knows, that you’ve loved him for nearly 20 years and never once told him. There have been other men of course and sometimes you thought that you were on the cusp of being over him but then something always made you realize that it was impossible. You feel trapped by your feelings, enclosed and stifled by the way your heart skipped a beat when he came on deck at the beginning of the day. You’re certain that he could never love an illogical woman like you and so you keep it all bottled up inside.

Even through the danger you have faced during your career aboard the Enterprise, you never once contemplated the idea that he might die first. He’s Vulcan, strong and sure himself, ruled by logic and not the impulsiveness of emotions, the chances of him dieing seem slim compared to yourself. It’s horribly ironic, watching as he is gently, reverently placed in his coffin, that it is his logic that ultimately killed him. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one. Sacrifice.

You’re standing with the others, the people that have become your family over the years, and you’re only half listening to what Jim is saying. His voice is cracking as his best friend, brother, is laid to rest on the Genesis planet. If Spock was still there you’d rant and rave and tell him how hasty and stupid he’d been… death couldn’t have been the only option. And now he’s gone and there’s a hole in your heart that makes it painful to still be alive while he is not.

I never told him, keeps repeating in your head as you sit alone in your quarters afterwards, flipping through the memories in your mind like a book. You had so many opportunities to tell him, to show how deeply you felt but never once did you take the chance. You should have told him when you were both young, you decide. You remember the hours that you spent in his office back at the academy as his teaching assistant—you loved him even then.

In your shaking hands you’re holding the last piece of him you have left, his lyre, and the tears begin to finally fall from your eyes as the grief overwhelms you completely. If you had the chance to do it over again, you’d do everything differently. You’d do nearly anything to fix your past mistakes, but it’s the what-ifs and the regrets that are eating away at your soul. Your fingers tighten around the lyre, dark knuckles turning pale, and you take in a deep shuddering breath, the scent of your beloved still clinging to the strings of the musical instrument.

spock_uhura prompt table

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Thu, 28 May 2009 00:36:31 GMT

spock/uhura prompt table .01
general prompts ~ 00/50 ~ spock_uhura

001.	stranger	002.	breakdown	003.	silk	004.	the student becomes the teacher	005.	silence
006.	bonded	007.	red and green	008.	blue	009.	reunion	010.	prejudice
011.	first contact	012.	seasons	013.	quiet night on the bridge	014.	mind meld	015.	practice
016.	truth	017.	teasing	018.	vacation	019.	alternate universe	020.	resistance
021.	heartbreak	022.	ears	023.	jealousy	024.	dreams	025.	classic literature
026.	wrong	027.	scar	028.	trapped	029.	danger	030.	injured on a mission
031.	photo	032.	morning run	033.	phaser practice	034.	homesick	035.	discretion
036.	fraternization	037.	non-verbal communication	038.	whisper	039.	ancient ruins	040.	traditions
041.	parenthood	042.	forbidden	043.	punish	044.	resentment	045.	fight
046.	sheets	047.	moonlight	048.	alcohol	049.	swept	050.	party
051.	Author's Choice	052.	Author's Choice	053.	Author's Choice	054.	Author's Choice	055.	Author's Choice

Star Trek Graphics

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Wed, 20 May 2009 01:42:57 GMT

9 Spock/Uhura icons
17 Spock/Uhura banners/headers

001

002

003

004

005

006

007

008

009

Created with angelamaria's Icon Table Generator @ Bauble

Banners

Er...

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Thu, 07 May 2009 15:58:58 GMT

Hey, hey, boys and girls (not that there are any boys here, at least I don't think there is... is there?) the Challenge # 2 drabbles for next_gen_ldws are up and mine is buried in there somewhere.... This competition is fierce, all those fics are of amazing quality and there is some great reading to be had. ;) Vote! Read! Ponder!

Shattered~ An Australia Fanvideo

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Tue, 05 May 2009 22:50:32 GMT

Title: Shattered
Pairing/Characters: Sarah/Drover, Nullah
Song Artist: Trading Yesterday
Download Link: http://www.mediafire.com/?jlldibn5tnm
Viewing Link: http://www.imeem.com/people/HWhai7y/video/PlfPRMKC/shattered-movies-video/
Notes: Dedicated to </a></b></a>kereia ;). Just finished this video this morning; I love this song and it was a blast making a video out of it.

Shattered -

"Forever," Charlie/Teddy

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Sun, 03 May 2009 15:54:38 GMT

Title: Forever
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Charlie/Teddy
Rating: Adult
Summary: Moonstones hold many magical properties.
Word Count: 249
Warnings: Slash, cross-gen
Notes: Written for Round 1, Challenge 1 (which I survived!) at next_gen_ldws ;).

Forever

Teddy shivered and clutched at the sheets, burying his face into Charlie's sweater and breathing in the scent of Charlie's cologne deeply. Charlie's fingers were warm and gentle against Teddy's back and arse, making the younger man moan as the fingers dipped softly into his arse. Gooseflesh erupted over Teddy's body while the warm water from Charlie's fingers dripped over his skin; the moonstones were resting, warm and wet, along his spine, Charlie placing each one carefully with words of love and a kiss along Teddy's shoulders.

Once all the moonstones were in place, Charlie touched each one with the tip of his wand, making the golden figures etched into them glow bright. The spell nearly complete, Teddy groaned in anticipation as Charlie positioned his cock, wet with lube, against Teddy's arse.

"Say it," Charlie uttered.

Knowing that this would complete the spell, Teddy's stomach flipped and he swallowed heavily. "I'm yours-" he whispered hoarsely, his hair flashing from turquoise to a bright red as Charlie pushed forward into the younger man's body.

Teddy clawed at the sheets as the stones on his back burned hot; light shimmered around them as Charlie buried himself to the hilt.

"Love you," hissed Charlie, pulling out and thrusting back in.

"Love you too," Teddy breathed.

Now bound completely together, forever, as lovers, the moonstones fell from their place on Teddy's back as Charlie's thrusts became deeper and harder, and with each thrust, Teddy let Charlie know how much he really loved him.

next_gen_ldws

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Fri, 01 May 2009 14:27:22 GMT

Voting for the first prompt is up at next_gen_ldws and I'm asking everyone who isn't already a member over there to go and vote. I just read through them all and they are all super good! And mine's hidden in there somewhere.... ;)

Prosechallenge ~ Challenge 010

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Fri, 01 May 2009 05:04:41 GMT

Lyrics:

Hurt ~ Johnny Cash

You Found Me ~ The Fray

In Loving Memory ~ Alter Bridge

Even Angels Fall ~ Jessica Riddle

Hit Me With Your Best Shot ~ Pat Benatar

Go Your Own Way ~ Fleetwood Mac

Anything But Mine ~ Kenny Chesney

Power of Love ~ Huey Lewis and the News

All We Are ~ One Republic

Angel ~ Sarah McLachlan

His Girl Friday ~ The Academy Is...

Crooked Teeth ~ Death Cab For Cutie

"Destiny," Stephanie Plum

ellie_kat89@yahoo.com — Thu, 30 Apr 2009 02:14:35 GMT

Title: Destiny
Fandom: Stephanie Plum
Pairing: Ranger/Stephanie
Rating: Teen
Summary: Stephanie’s having nightmares and it prompts her to tell Ranger how she really feels, before it’s too late.
Word Count: 1565
Notes: Inspired by the sneak peek that Janet Evanovich gave us of Finger Lickin’ Fifteen. This is meant to be the end of that book (at least how I hope it’s going to end) ;).

Destiny

Even though I was exhausted, emotionally and physically, I couldn’t seem to close my eyes; sleeping would undeniably bring the nightmares that had plagued me the last two nights before and I didn’t want to revisit them. Sometimes, even though it was only my imagination running wild, I could still feel the cold metal of the machete against my neck and hear the bullet that struck Ranger in the upper arm. He was fine, in fact he had seemed utterly unfazed by it, but that doesn’t mean that it hadn’t freaked me out. Seeing him shot and bleeding had taken me momentarily back to the Scrogg debacle. Even thinking about it now, fleetingly, in my mind’s eye we were back in my apartment and he was bleeding out on my carpet.

I heard the locks tumble and jerked upright at the sudden sound, my heart beating frantically. I felt like such a wuss; generally my well developed denial skills would have pushed back the fear and I would be ignoring it, but this time the fear was very real. I felt the sudden tingle though that alerted me it was Ranger. I laid back down before he could come into my bedroom.

He stopped at my bedroom door for a second before crossing the room and taking a seat in the chair. I opened my eyes and was able to see his silhouette in the moonlight that was filtering in through my curtains.

“You should be asleep,” he said.

I shrugged. “I can’t.”

Not opening me eyes, I heard him get up and felt irrational tears prickling at the back of my eyes… he was leaving already. But then I heard a rustle of fabric and turned onto my back to watch what he was doing. He was working off his sling, throwing it on the chair, before carefully taking off his shirt, the bullet wound in his right arm making it difficult.

“Do you want some help?”

“No, it’s fine,” he replied.

A few moments later the painted-on black shirt was gone and he was pulling back the sheet to crawl into bed next to me. He pulled me close and I moved so that I could lay my head on his shoulder; I took a deep breath and smelling the essence of Ranger and Bulgari, I settled down, my hand resting on his abdomen, just above the top of his black cargoes. His fingers stroked through my brown curls and I closed my eyes, the sound of his heart beat comforting against my ear; but no matter how safe he made me feel I couldn’t sleep.

“Why can’t you sleep, Babe?” he asked a few minutes later.

I sighed. “Nightmares, I keep having them.”

His thumb stroked my neck where the blade had been, and I shivered, trying to burrow in closer to him.

“He can’t hurt you anymore,” Ranger uttered softly.

I bit my bottom lip and wondered what to say to him. “They’re… not so much about that.”

“What are they about?”

“You.” He tensed immediately and I inwardly cursed, realizing how he had taken it. “You… getting hurt, I mean.” Like I would ever dream about him hurting me.

“Explain.”

I took a deep breath, my emotions raw and stinging from the lack of sleep. I had never been good at talking about my feelings and the only reason why I could tell him, what I was about to tell him, was because I was so tired. “I know I call you batman, but I know that you’re not a superhero. Anything could happen to you—you could get hit by a drunk driver, be in a plane crash, or a bullet may get too close the… next time.” I took a deep shuttering breath, trying to ignore the pain in my chest as I fought back tears. “After Scrogg, that scares me more than anything.”

“Why does that scare you so much?” he asked, his body still tense against mine.

I started absentmindedly drawing patterns on his stomach but his hand enveloped mine and I stopped.

“Doesn’t the idea of dying scare you?” I asked, stalling.

“No.”

“Does anything scare you?” I whispered, the silence in the room seeming oppressive.

“A lot of things scare me.”

“Like what?”

He was silent for a minute and I began to wonder if he was going to answer when he finally spoke. “The idea of you dying, that scares me.”

Then, he rolled me onto my back and he followed me, climbing on top of me; supporting his weight on his knees and on his good arm, he cupped my cheek, his thumb running lightly across my skin. Feeling his heat all around me, I shivered again and ran my hands over his arms, tracing his biceps and triceps. Even though he wasn’t saying anything, I knew that he was waiting for me to tell him why.

I had been holding in that fact that I was in love with him for so long, accepting it, but at the same time not letting anyone see it, or know about it. I had hid it from myself even, until the moment when he’d walked into my apartment and Scrogg had shot him. Ranger hurt, again, had brought it all back, rushing to the surface. If something happened to him, and I had never told him, I knew that I would regret it for the rest of my life. He deserved to know.

“I’m in love with you,” I muttered, closing my eyes, not wanting to see his blank face.

I felt and heard all the air whoosh out of him liked he’d been hit; I assumed he was surprised. I was slightly stunned, I had been certain before that I would never be able to shock him like that.

“Open your eyes,” he ordered quietly a second or two later and I did, meeting his black gaze.

He didn’t look like I was seconds away from being shipped away to Mongolia, so I calmed somewhat. “I know that you don’t feel the same way and that’s fine, I know we’ll only ever be friends, and that’s good too; I just wanted you to know, I figured that you should—” I was cut off as he connected our lips in a heated kiss, stopping my babbling. I gasped into his mouth and I heard him groan as his tongue found mine.

Ranger kissed me for only a few moments before pulling away. I was breathing hard and I could feel him hard and hot through his cargos against my hip. “Let me show you how much I love you….” His head lowered again and he began kissing along my neck, his hand warm against my tummy as his fingers inched slowly upwards.

“In your own way though,” I whispered, the words seeming to hurt so much more now that I had admitted my love aloud.

“No, Babe, in every way that counts—I made a mistake before, with you, and I’m going to fix it, if you’ll let me.”

I suddenly saw all the directions my life could go at that moment, and I knew my next words would likely decide the rest of my existence. I didn’t want Morelli, not now, and ever since Scrogg I felt more and more like I was just leading him on, because I knew that I could never love him the way he needed to be loved. What would life with him be like? We might get married and maybe even be happy for a few years but I knew eventually that we would grow bitter towards one another; Morelli wanted me to change to fit into what he wanted, needed out of life, while I didn’t want to change at all. But life with Ranger, I couldn’t envision that. The future with him was mysterious, a dark hole that contained a million different possibilities. But I knew one thing, he wouldn’t want to change me, and I didn’t want to change Ranger either. I’d fallen in love with him not an image of what I thought he might one day be; he was mysterious, dark, silent, and sometimes a little scary, but at the same time he was supportive. He didn’t have to tell me he loved me, he showed me every time we were together.

“Show me then,” I replied, deliberately spreading my legs and wrapping them around his waist.

He looked so intently down at me for a moment that it felt like he was gazing into my soul, studying me. When he kissed me, it was desperate, like his control was slipping and was afraid that I was going to change my mind, but when he loved me it was long and slow. When we finally fell asleep, our bodies pressed tightly front to back, I slept nightmare free the rest of the night. But it was when I woke up the next morning when I was at my happiest. He was still there. He hadn’t left early, and he was still in my bed, naked, smiling his wolf-grin at me as he traced the swell of my breast with the tip of his finger. As long as I woke up every morning like this, I knew I could be happy with any future that destiny had in store for us.