It's a journey I can't stop taking; a life I know worth breaking. But here I am.

Fic; Of mornings and nights, and simple I love you's.

Tue, 13 Oct 2009 21:46:38 GMT

Title: Of mornings and nights, and simple I love you’s.
Author: Rae autumnrae89 (now in_ahaze @ IJ)
Rating: NC-17 (Sexual situations)
Characters/Pairings: Brian, Justin and Gus; Brian/Justin.
Warnings/Spoilers: Set two years post 5x13. While unbeta’d, I’ve proofread and checked to make sure it’s got all the correct Americanised spellings. There is also some fluff. It’s like cotton candy but won’t make you sick.
Disclaimer: CowLip/Russell T.Davies own the rights and copyright to Queer as Folk. This is a piece of non-profit fiction and has never claimed to be otherwise.
Summary: While Brian and Justin may still be apart, it won’t stop them from being together.
Author Notes: Written on the fly as I’ve been craving to write Britin!B/J for a while. I guess you could say it’s the prequel to the drabble I wrote for qaf_drabbles @ insanejournal for the challenge #136: Emmett called Of secrets and dreams.
~2,130

Wandering around Britin is something Justin still does to this day. He hasn’t spent as much time here as he’d like, and never more than a couple of days at best. So when he comes across a closed door he is pretty sure he has never seen before, he doesn’t really think anything of it.

Brian is in the kitchen eating a slice of melon with a knife, peeling the flesh away before he pops it into his mouth. He’s still naked from this morning’s welcome home fuck. Justin throws him some sweatpants. Brian wrinkles his nose, he prefers to be naked, it’s easier but Justin guesses he relents against the cold that’s seeping in due to the November gloom.

“What’s at the end of the hall?” Justin asks as he pulls out a cereal box. Brian looks at him blankly. “You know, two doors down from our room and that isn’t the media room.”

His face remains passive as he replied, “Oh yeah, the music room.”

“Music room?” Justin says with light amusement in his voice.

“Gus, he thinks he’s going to be a rockstar.” Brian’s face cracks a little, a smile playing out on his lips at the mention of his son. “I had it put in after his last visit.”

Justin falters a little bit, he was here a little after Gus but Brian never mentioned creating the music room. “He’s getting so big now.”

“Yeah you think the munchers would let him stay a little longer.” Brian’s voice tells him he’s annoying but his knowledge of Brian tells him that Brian’s hurt. Mel and Lindsay never let Gus stay more than a week with Brian and that’s only under the restriction that Justin is here for a least part of it.

“You’re getting him for some of Christmas right?” Justin asks hopeful that Lindsay had pushed Mel to agree.

“Yup.” Brian replies, standing up, taking his plate to the sink, “The 20th til the 24th.”

Justin digs his spoon into his cereal before he realises it‘s dry, he turns to the fridge when Brian rests his chin on Justin’s shoulder.

“What about you? New York for Christmas?”

Another wince. Justin had to sacrifice last Christmas with Brian last year for a surprise opening in a Christmas show a big time personal gallery. He had made $2000 but had offended Brian so badly he was still trying to get Brian to pick up at New Years.

Justin rubs Brian’s bare arm, “Nope. My mother has already told the gallery they can’t have me. Not after last year.”

“Well thank god for Mother Taylor.” Brian quips jovially but Justin knows they’ve been having lunch regularly since he left. It could be that they’re even-- friends.

“She already expects you and Gus to be at her special dinner, the 23rd, so that we can all go to Debbie’s for the 24th.” Justin slips out of Brian’s embrace long enough to get the milk and pour it into his bowl.

“Urgh, these women with their carbs.” Brian makes a face. Justin was sure Debbie was giving Brian as much pasta after 7 as she could. He was looking a little muscular than when Justin saw him last, but still slim, still Brian.

Justin laughs, “You know you love lasagna.”

Brian grumbles mostly to himself before he sought out the coffee pot, pouring two cups. He lumps lots of sugar in one before he hands it to Justin, who pours the remainder of the milk into it.

All of a sudden Justin feels very domesticated, holding the coffee Brian made for him, eating cereal in the kitchen of their house.

“Hey Brian,” Brian nodded, sipping his coffee. “Let’s fuck.”

***

Brian Kinney never needs to be told twice when to fuck. His fingers laced through Justin’s hair as his lips came down hard on Justin’s mouth, forcing his lips to part for his tongue. His knee slides between Justin’s two as they lean against each other, Justin’s ass pressing against the counter top. Brian’s hand slides down to rest on the small of his back, gentle pressure makes Justin rock against Brian, their hips grinding and cocks hardening.

Brian pushes him face down on the kitchen table while his other hand hooks around the waistband of his pants and shoves them down. Sure that Justin isn’t going to move, Brian’s hand goes to Justin’s hip, gripping it gently, his fingers ghosting down Justin‘s back. Justin managed to grab a condom and a packet of lube from the fruit bowl. Brian pressed a kiss between Justin’s shoulder blades before taking the proffered items.

“Fuck, that’s cold.” Finds it’s way out of Justin’s mouth before he even realises he’s spoken. It makes him wince just the once as Brian’s fingers stroke the soft passage of his ass but Brian knows how to spread the heat until Justin’s pushing back against him, pleading nonsense, and hiding his face in his arms.

“Justin.” Brian says hoarsely as he nudges the head of his cock at Justin’s hole. Brian wants him to look back, to see him bury himself in Justin’s body. Justin does as he’s asked, grabbing Brian’s hand, pulling him down to blanket his back as they fuck. The burn is slow acting, drawn out against Brian’s incredibly shallow thrusts, it has Justin biting his lip and reaching down to stroke himself.

“Harder.” He demands. Brian shakes his head and places an open mouth kiss against Justin’s shoulder. Justin squeezes his muscles and Brian jerks forward with a groan. “Fuck, Brian.”

This time Brian bites his shoulder and pulls his head back by his hair, a moan tearing from his throat as Brian does it. Brian picks up his thrusts, his thighs slapping against Justin’s as the table shakes under their combined weight and pressure. Justin wants to say the table might collapse, he wants to say ‘God, fuck yes, Brian!’ but his voice fails him miserably, the only sounds that pour from him are the pleasurable grunts every time Brian hits his prostate. He jerks his cock for every two of Brian’s deep thrusts and it really isn’t long before he is coming all over his hand, the table and the floor.

Brian hooks his arms under Justin’s and pulls him upright, still thrusting hard into his ass. Justin grabs the back of Brian’s neck, trying to support himself but his orgasm was too draining, Brian’s right hand presses against his belly, his come, and holds him as Brian starts and rides out his orgasm.

Justin is incoherent when Brian pulls out as gently as he can, he turns and practically flops in Brian’s arms.

“Done already Sunshine?” Brian smirks as he hauls Justin up the stairs. His ass almost feels like the first time Brian fucked him.

Justin wrinkles his nose, “No, just been awhile since I’ve been fucked practically through something.”

Brian looks thoughtful, “I never really liked that table.”

“It cost $1500!” Justin says, incredulous.

“Clearly I need to buy one for at least $2000 if I want to fuck on it.” Brian sits Justin down on the bed while he heads for the bathroom, presumably to get a wet towel.

“Brian.” Justin says in that tone he knows sounds like a whine but he can’t help it. Brian and money together are an entity Justin can’t fight. Brian comes back with a dark blue towel (finally caving on Justin’s demands for that color) and wiped him clean before pushing him down on the bed and telling him to sleep.

“It’s our home, I’ll spend money on it if I want to.” Brian says quite logically as he pets Justin’s hair, running his fingers through it, trying to neaten it up post fuck.

Justin nods and murmurs, “Well so will I.”

Brian doesn’t hear that, and is surprised when the delivery van comes a month later.

***

“Mr Kinney?” The Fed-Ex guy says as Brian opens the door, only home because he forgot a file.

Brian nods suspiciously and signs the board as unseen. That way he can send the fucking thing back. The guys move it into the spacious hallway, Brian notes it’s probably a painting of some sort from the crate it’s in. He then sees it’s from J. Taylor and knows it’s a painting.

He calls Cynthia and puts off his meeting while he hunts for the crowbar, finding it under the sink, more than likely thanks to Justin. He always puts things in the oddest of places.

Brian wedges it in and levers until it comes away enough that he can balance and pull it down himself. It’s neatly wrapped in a protector sheet, at least Justin’s anal about his art if not his wet towels. He pulls it down quickly and it surprised by what he sees. It’s Britin, nothing new there; but it’s Christmas time, it’s a portrait, it’s Brian, Justin-- and Gus.

“Fuck, Sunshine.” Brian whispers quietly. He pulls out his cell, dialing the familiar number.

“You got it then?” Justin says smugly down the line.

“Yeah, I got it.”

There’s a rustling on the other end, Brian waits and Justin replies, “I was thinking we’d hang it in the main reception room.”

Brian tries to swallow the lump that’s suddenly formed in his throat, “Sure.”

“Brian? Are you okay? You don’t, like, hate it?” Justin asks, worried.

“No, it’s good Sunshine, I just wanted to check you’re still coming home tomorrow.” Brian covers quickly.

It brightens Justin up immediately, “Definitely. We’ll fuck all of tomorrow and Gus will arrive in the morning.”

“I like how you think.” Brian admits, “So, I’ll see you at 8?”

“Yeah, see you then.” Justin sounds wistful but dutifully, Brian hangs up.

***

Lindsay is greatly impressed when she sees the painting hanging when she drops Gus off. Gus loves it, hoping that he will get the same snow that covers Britin in the painting.

“Then Daddy and Jus can make snowmen with me.” Gus says happily before taking his stuff to his room.

Gus eats two regular size slices of pizza at dinner before he doesn’t want anymore. Brian laughs, “Well if he gets to the 6 you eat, then I’ll worry.”

Justin sticks his tongue out and let’s Gus climb on his lap on the couch, stroking his dark hair softly, the same way Brian does.

Brian pulls his lips over his teeth in that way he does when he’s amused and holding something in, Justin glares at him, “What?”

“I want us to get married. No wedding or bullshit, just you and me.” Brian says quickly like tearing off a band aid.

“But we decided--”

“I know.” There’s something going on behind Brian’s eyes that he just can’t figure out.

Gus looks up at Justin sleepily, “Are you getting married like my mommies?”

Justin looks at Gus, probably with a horrified look on his face before he looks at Brian. He doesn’t seem at all uncomfortable with the comparison.

“You’re both ganging up on me, aren’t you?” Justin says with a start. Gus hugs Justin tightly and snugs against his chest, “I want you to be my daddy like Daddy.”

Brian shrugs and Justin begins a murderous pantomime that Gus can’t see and ends with Brian and his throat slit. Brian gets up and sits down in front of the two of them, pressing one kiss against Gus’ forehead and the other to Justin’s lips.

“Just think about it.”

***

Justin is getting ready for bed, or rather just taking all his clothes off while Brian is flitting around on his computer. Justin is sure he looks ridiculous trying to be serious while naked but sometimes it’s the only way to get through to Brian.

“Marriage!” Justin exclaims and Brian looks at him with his eyebrows raised.

“Marriage, Brian!” As if adding Brian’s name to the equation makes it better or worse.

Justin looks at Brian as he walks over, he stops in front Justin, completely silent. He’s twiddling something in his fingers before he grabs Justin’s hand. As soon as he’s gotten it down to the knuckle Justin realises what Brian has done, he’s slipped Justin’s wedding ring on Justin’s finger.

“I love you.” Brian says and something shifts, something inside Justin just becomes...complete.

“Fuck, Brian.” Justin whispers. It sounds a little broken but it’s not, it’s full of joy and love, full of time. Brian slips his hand into the front pocket of his jeans and pulls out an identical ring. He let’s it sit in his palm until Justin takes it up.

“I love you.” Justin smiles as he slides the ring onto Brian’s finger.

There is a little voice, down the hall, bright and happy. “Are you married yet?”

Fin.

Queer as Folk: Four times (+ bonus) Justin heard ‘Save the last dance for me’ [1/1]

Tue, 15 Sep 2009 16:34:36 GMT

Title: Four times (+ bonus) Justin heard ‘Save the last dance for me’.
Author: Rae autumnrae89
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Justin, Brian, Ethan; Brian/Justin, Justin/Ethan, Justin/Other.
Warnings/Spoilers: Swearing and innuendo. Spoilers (minor) for throughout the series.
Disclaimer: CowLip owns the characters of Queer as Folk; this is a piece of non-profit fiction and does not claim to be otherwise.
Summary: AU; It’s kind of surprising how one song can sum up one relationship so much and so well. It’s not surprising how much it means to Justin either.
Author Notes: Unbeta’d. My first (finished) Queer as Folk fic! I really hope you all enjoy it and feedback is appreciated.
~2,300ish.

I - When Brian tried to help Justin remember the bashing. S2.

You can dance,
every dance with the guy who gives you the eye,
Let him hold you tight,
…
But don’t forget whose taking you home and whose arms you’re going to be.

Justin forced himself to follow Brian as he led them backwards across the apartment. Daphne had left and Brian had told Justin not to force the issue but Justin needed to try again, regardless of how stupid he felt or how hard it was. He needed to remember this. He knew it. He knew deep down that if he didn’t try, Brian would never forgive him.

Justin stumbled as Brian turned them about the floor, he mumbled a ‘sorry’ but Brian shook his head. Brian pulled Justin back upright against the length of his body, letting Justin lean his weight on him for a moment as they continued their dance.

But Justin knew, the spark was gone, more than from the dance. There was too much hurt and pain between them. Leaning on his toes, Justin pressed a kiss to the side of Brian’s jaw before he let his hands fall away.

Sitting out on the curb beside Brian’s building, Justin wiped his face, trying to dry his tears before Brian found him.

Flexing his hand, fresh tears poured down Justin’s face. His hand might heal, might be okay, but this-- this was broken forever. Anything Brian felt for him would have been destroyed with that bat to his head.

Justin remembered as Mandy Sloan came to visit him at his house. She was a nice girl from his class, they spoke but neither was more inclined. She told him she was sorry and he believed her.

“What Chris did to you--” Mandy’s face scrunched up as she tried to articulate what she wanted to say.

“It’s fine Mandy, I get it.” Justin rolled his shoulders uncomfortably.

“But mostly I want to say, how brave you were.” Mandy blushed hard and looked down, “You and your boyfriend were wonderful.”

The word boyfriend had thrown him for a moment until he realised she meant Brian, “I- I don’t remember it.”

“I bet he told you all about it, the dance, the kiss. It was so romantic. Like a movie,” Mandy smiled until she realised Justin wasn’t smiling.

“Did something happen? Did you guys break up?”

“We were never together.”

II - On the radio at Ethan’s. S3.

“Hey,” Ethan said as he passed through the living room, searching and packing things. Justin sat on the old ratty couch with a pencil in his hand, listening to the soft sounds of the radio by his feet.

“You know, if you wanted music, I could have played for you,” Ethan said with a warm smile which Justin returned.

“I’m just enjoying the classics, the other classics,” Justin tapped his pencil on the paper as he waited for the inspiration to come.

Ethan looked at him, concerned, “Still having trouble with your art?”

Justin nodded.

“Well what do you draw when you don’t draw anything?” Ethan asked as he pulled a water bottle from the fridge.

Justin blushed and got up to cover it, walking into the bathroom. Ethan called to him, “Justin?”

Locking the door and shouting something to Ethan, Justin sat on the bathroom floor and started to sketch on his pad. He could draw his subject from memory, both visual and sensory. His fingers rubbed over lines of thighs and biceps and his pencil curved into a mouth and warm eyes.

Justin stayed where he was for as long as he could, just drawing and drawing, Brian in bed sleeping, Brian in the throes, Brian getting dressed for work, even Brian watching some old movie.

His hand cramped under the now suddenly steel weight of his pencil. He surveyed the pages, they were some of his best work. He knew why. He had forced himself to remember everything, every nook he remembered on Brian’s body, every sleek contour that made him the perfect artistic specimen.

Big wet tears plopped on to the drawing Justin was holding of Brian with Gus, on one of the rare days they had him. Brian had been smiling so wide at both him and Gus, Justin was sure Brian’s face would break.

Dropping the picture on top of the rest, Justin gathered them up and held them to his chest as he finally left the bathroom. His legs were cramping and his ass hurt from sitting on it but he didn’t notice. Ethan had left him a note but left the radio on.

Putting the papers down he turned it up until he recognised the song. His heart constricted painfully. Suddenly Brian was everywhere, in his head and his heart so much that Justin was convinced he had never left, never moved out, never even thought of coming to live with Ethan.

Go and have your fun,
Laugh and sing,
But while we’re apart don’t give your heart to anyone.

The words washed over Justin as he pulled out his packet of matches and lit one. Slowly he burnt every picture barring the one of Brian and Gus.

He was still Brian’s, he knew that now. He always would be, but he needed this. He needed to move on to be something other than Brian and Justin.

Rolling up the last picture, he placed it in his lock draw in the desk and kept it there until the right time. Just like his feelings for Brian.

III - When Brian let it play after a particularly bad radiotherapy session. S4.

Brian had been vomiting for about an hour since Justin arrived. Not all the time, but long enough that Brian had given up and was laying flat on his belly in the bathroom, waiting for the next round.

“I don’t know how you have anything more to throw up Brian,” Justin said, with a slightly forced amused tone. “Makes me wonder what you’ve been eating.”

Justin watched as Brian slowly rolled on his side, his eyelids droopy, his mouth slightly parted, “I don’t know Sunshine but I know it wasn’t that shit you made last night.”

Justin snorted, he had made plain rice with beef in a plainer sauce because Brian was feeling particularly fragile, not that either one mentioned it.

Shrugging, Justin sat beside Brian, stroking his now soaked shirt as he rolled back on to his front, “It wasn’t that bad, it’s not like I made you eat those regulation meals.”

“They burnt my balls, nothing is worse than that.” Brian said with a shudder. Justin moved in case Brian needed to vomit but slowly Brian reached out and patted Justin’s thigh, stilling him.

“Burnt your balls Brian? I don’t think hospitals are into--”

Brian grunted, “Side affect, I have the most unattractive tan lines you’ve ever seen.”

Justin quirked an eyebrow, “Well, I may just hold you to that Mr Kinney.”

Brian grabbed Justin’s hand as he tried to get up, his face scrunched up as he tried to control the reflex. Justin held Brian’s hand but looked away, he knew how much Brian hated him to see this. The sounds seemed to rip from Brian straight into Justin. Biting his lip, Justin let go of Brian’s hand to grab a washcloth from the sink.

“Hey,” Brian said as he laid on his back this time, “Put the stereo on.”

The state of the art system daunted Justin so he just clicked play on the remote as far away from it as possible. Some tech-y Babylon song came through and Brian groaned, so Justin flicked it off and a familiar song came through the speakers.

Justin remained frozen in the same spot while Brian seemed to sigh in relief, “Y’know, this isn’t such a bad song.”

Baby don’t you know I love you so,
Can’t you feel it when we touch,
I will never never let you go,
I love you oh so much.

IV - When Justin has a date. S5.

“You’re a great guy, Justin.”

Justin frowned when there was no but. He relaxed his face when he realised that it was because Matt was serious. He liked Justin, clearly by the amount of touching he seemed to be doing. Justin barely had his hands to himself all night because Matt kept grabbing them.

There’s a low hum of music in the restaurant, in truth it kind of annoys Justin until he catches half a song in its wake.

If he asks if you’re all alone
And he can walk you home,
You must tell him no,
But don’t forget whose taking you home and whose arms you’re going to be.

Matt doesn’t say anything when Justin calls for the bill and wants to leave. He just smiles, grabbing Justin’s hand again, rubbing it gently until they reach for their coats to leave.

Brian was standing at the end of the street when Justin exited the restaurant with Matt. His dark hair was plastered to his head from the rain and no umbrella. He’s surrounded by a plume of smoke, clearly cursing even though Justin can’t hear him. Michael comes out of what he assumes is a restaurant with two big food bags.

Matt tugs on Justin’s hand, clasping it in his, “You okay?”

He looks down the street and spots Brian. Everyone spots Brian. God’s gift to gay Pittsburgh. “Your ex?”

Justin shrugs, Matt looks at him slightly confused -- he either is or he isn’t, “He’s Brian. You don’t need to know any more than that.”

Matt nods, letting go of Justin’s hand. He doesn’t call after their date and Justin isn’t bothered by it.

V (Bonus) - And one time Justin didn‘t need to hear it but did anyway. Post-S5 and beyond.

Brian was giving him a particularly dirty smirk from the other side of the impromptu dance floor on the grounds of Britin, in full view of his mother, and sister, who promptly rolled her eyes.

“Dance with me,” Brian half purred, demanded, as he scooped Justin up into his embrace.

Justin’s eyebrows rose, “And here I thought I was getting a quick fuck in the bathroom.”

Brian nodded, “That too.”

“You were always ridiculously romantic,” Justin laughed as he spied the dark sky, wondering if it would rain.

Brian’s smile grew wider as he walked Justin in front of him, ass to his groin to the dance floor, his voice playful in Justin‘s ear, “Just for you Sunshine, only for you.”

“Yeah, ask me again in another ten years,” Justin said as he tilted his head, letting Brian guide him around into the circle of his arms.

“It better be another ten years before we have another one of these,” Brian said with mock distaste as Emmett colourfully flitted in the background, making sure everything was running smoothly. Michael had pulled Ben onto the dance floor around the same time as Brian and Justin while everyone else seemed content to watch the festivities.

“Brian, it’s a wedding, you only get one.” Justin said, not with a sunshine smile, much worse, with a ‘let’s forget this and fuck’ smile.

“If it were up to you, we wouldn’t have even had this one,” Brian’s hand fell to Justin’s slowly rolling the platinum band on his finger.

“So you’re saying that you wanted this,” Justin gestured around, his face devilish in the garden moonlight of Britin, “Because you love me so much and even though said I didn’t want it, you had to have it because you need the world to know you love me…”

“You’re pushing it.” Brian said almost warningly but Justin knew better.

“It’s what got me here!” Justin laughed as they swayed in time to the music.

Slowly it quietened down until the DJ announced, “Here at Britin, for the first time we would like to present Mr and Mr Taylor-Kinney.”

Brian frowned, “I’m not taking your name, you’re the wife remember.”

Justin slapped Brian’s arm as everyone parted on the floor for them. “Shut up and kiss me before I divorce you.”

“And take all my money?” Brian said with eyebrows raised.

“And take all your money.” Justin agreed.

“Fucking heteros.”

“I love you Brian,” Justin said before he tiptoed to kiss Brian. Brian pulled back, looking down on Justin. It was 50/50 whether or not Brian would return the sentiment, still not completely comfortable with the words.

“You too.” Brian said with a devastating smile. Justin sighed and wrapped his arms around Brian’s neck as the song played behind them.

It was the only song that Justin requested to be played. He made peace with the knowledge he would never remember that special night, the night of his Prom, but if he couldn’t have that, he would have this.

Darling, save the last dance for me,
Save the very last dance for me.

It was late, after much fucking and ice cream eating in various rooms of Britin, and narrowly avoiding the guests that Brian and Justin ended up back at their room.

Justin rubbed his hand as he stood in front of the bed. Brian came up behind him, blanketing him with his larger body as he took Justin’s hand in his own and rubbed gently.

“I guess I really shouldn’t have given you that fourth hand job.” Justin moaned as Brian hit just the right spot in his hand.

“Hey Sunshine?”

Justin hmm’d as he leant back into Brian, his head resting under Brian’s chin.

“I love you.”

Justin nodded, “I know.”

Fin.

Smallville: Say (All I need) [2/5]

Sun, 02 Aug 2009 21:40:48 GMT

Title: Say (All I need); Part of the ‘The future is now’ series [2/5]
Author: Rae
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Lois, Clark, Tess, John Corben; Clark/Lois.
Warnings/Spoilers: Still spoilers for 9x01 and 9x02, now let’s add 9x03 to be safe. This is still set in 9x01 Saviour.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Smallville or its characters, same applies to the DC ones.
Summary: Lois’ first day back at the Planet offers little comfort for her situation and another stark memory sets Lois down a path straight toward Clark.
A/N1: Another One Republic title; because the song fits the fic. Plus, SV!connection FTW. There is a second more explanatory note at the end of the fic.
Word count: 1,853

Previously; All fall down [1/5]

Say (All I need)

The first day back at the Planet was as jarring as her first over a two years ago. Lois smiled as she sat at her desk, her nameplate freshly polished, her papers ordered no doubt by Jeff. She had a lot to be thankful for, which reminded her to write herself a note to call Ollie. After Lois’ altercation with Tess three months before, she had been sure that she would have been offered the kiss off but Oliver, a knight in Armani, ensured that Lois would remind in her job and Tess would try not to look sore about not besting Lois.

Frowning, Lois folded her arms and stared at the empty desk in front of her, Clark’s nameplate was nowhere to be seen. His ‘replacement’ just entered the bullpen, coffee in hand and laptop in the other.

‘John Corben’ was supposedly a good reporter, deserving of his desk, but Lois thought otherwise. That was Clark’s desk, not his.

“Lane, right?” He said, happily, trying to set a good mood between them.

Sliding one leg over the other, Lois’ face was that of a picturesque ice maiden, “Corben.”

Unruffled, Corben raised his eyebrows, “Yeah, right, you were Kent’s friend.”

“Clark, you mean ‘is’ and yes,” Lois corrected as she picked up her paper coffee cup, it creased slightly with the pressure.

“Is?” John set down his things and shifted his nameplate in line with the DP staff computer screen.

“Were would suggest Clark was no more. He didn’t die, he just--,” Lois was cut off by John.

“Left.” John had no respect for a shared history as he opened his laptop, typing rhythmically to get into his files.

Lois narrowed her eyes, “Look, John, I’m sure you earned a right to a desk here, you’re good. But that desk belongs to Clark Kent, whenever he wants it back and everyone knows it.”

Something struck because John’s demeanour changed, his face harsher than before, “Sure Lane, but that’s all pegged on hope. A dream that your boy is gonna want to come back…”

Lois raised her chin defiantly but John wasn’t finished.

“It seems you have a lot of hope to go around.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lois demanded, almost ready to rise out of her chair, to go toe to toe with this man.

“You were right about me being good Lane, but so are you, when you’re not mooning over the Red Blue Blur.” John’s eyes flickered over Lois almost appreciatively but it just left Lois cold.

“The Blur has done nothing but help Metropolis, we should be grateful,” Lois said quickly, anger tingeing her words.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, not now,” John sipped his coffee like a cat who had just fed on a big fat juicy mouse. “The big guy isn’t as good as everyone thinks.”

He got up, to probably refill his coffee. Lois got up, walking over to his desk, she picked up his nameplate. No, definitely, not Clark, Lois thought sadly before she set John’s nameplate back -- crooked.

Lois smiled as she went to go and talk to Tess.

---

Talking to Tess had been a bust. Though it did hold pre-text for Lois to talk to her about what she had seen; the orb. Lois’ fight with Tess was one of the few things she could remember clearly before it blurred into non-existence. Did the orb have something to do with her memory? Did it cause her memory loss?Or was it simply part of Tess’ plan to be the next Lex.

“Lois,” Tess addressed her with a familiarity that wasn’t between them. “And how can I help you?”

“Cut the crap,” You evil backstabber, Lois took up her ‘take no prisoners’ stance, “Why is John Corben sitting at Clark’s desk?”

“Clark is no longer part of the Daily Planet team, by his choice of course,” Tess sat against the front of her desk, Lois standing glaringly tall in her stiletto heels over her. “I, myself, would love for Clark to come back but -- alas, he has other plans.”

“Fine, now you can tell me about the pretty orb you were ranting about 3 months ago,” Lois said as if she were commenting on the weather.

Tess’ face hardened instantaneously, “We already discussed this that night. Unless you’d like to illuminate on your recent whereabouts.”

Lois nodded, and shifted on her feet, “Sure, this is what I remember; nothing. A big gaping hole where my life was.”

Tess clearly didn’t believe her but Lois continued, “Truth, take it or leave it. Now show me yours.”

“I do think you better be going Lois, you don’t want to miss out on those big stories now, would you?” Tess said easily.

Lois fumed inside, wanting to rack the redhead’s brain for answers but unable to even scratch the surface. “Of course Tess, I am Mad Dog Lane after all.”

It wasn’t a fond use of her nickname but a reminder and warning that Lois wouldn’t give up. Not until the truth had surfaced. Turning on her heel, Lois left.

---

The ride to the farm was a long one, Lois surmised as she looked over her wardrobe. She thought about packing a few things, for comfort, to take with her but she sighed heavily and flopped to the sitting position on her bed.

“Urgh!” Lois grunted as she laid flat out. “Stupid Smallville!” Both the town and the person bore the brunt of Lois’ wrath.

Lois hadn’t really thought of Clark since she left the hospital two days ago. Chloe had kept her busy, updating Lois on life events, bills (which Chloe had paid for in her absence) and everything else she’d need to go back to work. Lois had also been avoiding all thoughts regarding the dark haired, bright eyed farm boy because over the past year she seemed to, at the thought of him, get a tingling sensation in her belly. Since her return, the tingle had progressed to a full blown roller coaster in her insides.

“Smallville!” Lois shouted, arms thrown up, trying to vent her frustration.

Lois winced, her face scrunching up as her head began to throb, her brain suddenly in a vice grip. A pain filled, “Argh.” passed Lois’ lips.

“This is the 31st Century,” Clark said sombrely. Lois looked at him, in all his seriousness and laughed.

Clark’s eyes stopped her again, the sadness that emanated from them tore at Lois’ very being, “No, that can’t be possible. Can it?”

A simple shrug, “Anything’s possible.”

Lois sat down, before she jumped. It felt like she had sat on ice. She finally took in her surroundings, she had sat on ice because she was in some sort of ice cavern. Only the all-encompassing-sky-reaching kind.

“I’d ask but I don’t think I can take the answer right now,” Lois nodded as if to assure herself. Clark mimicked her nod, obviously not wanting to jolt her at all. “So, ice house. Come here often?”

Clark’s lips barely twitched in an attempt at a smile, he seemed more intent on staring at Lois that talking. But given his attitude, Lois was surprised with his answer, “It’s a little place I know.”

For a moment, the old Clark, her Clark seemed to sparkle in his eyes, “Oh and you bring all your dates here, I see.”

Clark reached out and touched Lois’ face, his large palm covering almost her whole cheek, his fingertips almost twining in her hair, “You’re the only person I really wanted to see it.”

Lois smiled awkwardly and bit her bottom lip, her face automatically turning into Clark’s touch, “Really Smallville? Maybe you need some new friends.”

Apparently, Clark really liked being called Smallville as he leaned down, holding Lois’ face gently with his hand and kissed her softly. It was only a dry touch of lips, like an assurance that the other was really there but it sent Lois’ heartbeat sky rocketing. Clark’s hand dropped and Lois was sorry for the absent of his heat.

“Or I guess you could keep me,” Lois said when she finally found her voice. Clark smiled sadly again and Lois just wanted to pull him to her in hopes she could banish his demons.

“I wish I could Lois, but the world needs you more,” Clark’s face changed again. His features smoothed out, like all that had been Clark had been stripped from his face and left a stranger in his place. “The world will end if you don’t return and stop him.”

“Him?” Lois’ heart continued to accelerate, the sky’s burnt orange and fire came into her mind’s eye.

“Zod, his name is Zod.” Clark’s face continued to be devoid of emotion but a strength came within his words, like now she was here, he would never let ‘Zod’ overcome him. “He’s a murderer of Earth and Krypton alike.”

Lois knew better than to interrupt so she let Clark speak.

“He-- he’s the reason my parents had to give me away. The reason the world is dying, he has done to Earth what he would and will do to Krypton.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Lois said softly, what did Clark want her to do in the face of a destroyer of worlds?

“I need you to love me.”

---

Lois gasped for air like she had been drowned, her hands flailing at her sides before someone took her hands in theirs. Lois felt the cold hard floor of her room, her eyes unfocused as the person drew her against them.

“Lois!” Deep baritone drew Lois out of her vision, back into the present.

“Clark,” Lois sighed, her face against his shoulder, she was sure would get his shirt wet with her tears she knew were coming.

“Lois, what happened? You were on the floor, passed out, for a second I thought you were dead,” Clark’s voice made Lois hiccup a sob, it sounded just like the Clark of her vision. Lost, angry and pained, so much pain.

Throwing her arms around Clark, Lois felt his body jerk back in shock as she openly embraced him. His left hand ran up and down her back, his right brushing back her hair. “Lois, are you crying?”

“No-no, I just--,” Lois decided she couldn’t fight it anymore, “Clark, the future was horrible. I saw it, the world was ending.”

His left joined his right on the other side of Lois’ face, “What do you mean?”

“He came. He burnt it all to the ground,” Lois pulled back when Clark’s face changed.

“Who is he, Lois?” Clark was commanding. He was commanding her to tell him.

Lois shook her head, standing up quickly, she almost fell back down, “It’s that orb. That thing Tess has. I know it, why else would she try to hide it? Or chase me down when she thought I had it.”

Clark looked at her sceptically, Lois raised her chin again, like she had with Corben, “Looks like you’re coming back to the Daily Planet whether you like it or not Smallville.”

Fin.

A/N2: I’m not sure when I’ll get time to write the other three (2 continue Lois’ POV including that scene, the final is Clark’s POV of it all.) as time is scarce but I’ve had a burst of inspiration for this little one-shot series so here’s hoping it’ll be soon.

Continued -- TBA.

Legend of the Seeker: Beyond the world we know. [1/1]

Sat, 01 Aug 2009 18:07:18 GMT

Title: Beyond the world we know [1/1]
Author: Rae
Rating: PG for light implication.
Characters/Pairings: Richard, Kahlan, Zedd & misc. including General Reibisch. Richard/Kahlan.
Warnings/Spoilers: For seasons 1 & 2. This fic is to bridge between Season 1 and Season 2 so it happens directly before 2x01 begins. Includes S2 spoilers in general and from the promo. Also some book spoilers/canon.
Disclaimer: Disney/ABC owns the rights to Legend of the Seeker; Terry Goodkind owns the Sword of Truth series and this is a piece of non-profit fiction and does not claim to be otherwise.
Summary: Richard’s POV from the Summer after his defeat of Darken Rahl before he discovers a larger foe at work.
Author Notes: Er, this was only supposed to be a little Richard POV on his relationship with Kahlan (why there is more of it in the beginning) not an ode to -- everything. Oh well, enjoy!
Word Count: 3,040

&

Richard watches as Kahlan sharpens one of her blades against a rock in their impromptu camp. The Sword of Truth held no nicks in the blade and gleamed regardless.

“Richard,” Kahlan says with intent, her eyes bright and her mouth curved in a smile.

Jostled for a moment, Richard leans off the tree he had been pressed against, “Yeah?”

Kahlan stands slowly, turning her whole body towards him. Quickly she flicks her wrist out towards him, Richard jerking to the right, narrowly misses the knife as it intends to bury itself in his shoulder.

His sword rings as it gleefully finds its way out of its scabbard. Deftly, Richard deflects the next blow but Kahlan is experienced, she slides her leg behind his two and swipes strongly, knocking him down. Instinct rings out as Richard falls, his right arm turns rigid, holding the sword in front of him. Richard’s mind catches up with his actions and realises the tip of the sword is pressed over Kahlan’s heart.

Kahlan looks down at him with a look of satisfaction. “Good, nice to see that you’re still sharp.”

Richard doesn’t feel good about it at all, he brings the sword towards his face and sees that a small amount of Kahlan’s blood has begun to run down the blade’s edge.

&

Richard feels the press of flesh that night, men clapping on the back, clasping his hand and telling him of his greatness.

Kahlan on the other hand is immersed with child’s play in the man square, sitting on the dirty floor in her Confessor‘s dress. The firelight of the bonfire, lit in their honour, flickers out over her skin, making the light in her eyes dance.

You loved me across time, echoes silently as Kahlan looks up at him, another gentler smile on her face. The children look up with her, a young girl stands and rushes to Richard, insisting, “Come and play with us, Richard.”

The men and women called him Seeker, warrior, hero. The children embrace him with warm hugs and ignorance of the sword belted at his side.

“Come Richard,” Kahlan insists, shifting to make space for him next to her.

Richard obliges without thinking, sitting down next to Kahlan, the girl who spoke to him perched on his knee. The girl, Kari, reaches out for Kahlan’s hand and speaks quickly, “Kahlan, finish the story about the palace!”

Richard looks at Kahlan but she bowed her head, her hair falling in front of her face. She looked up a second later, “Must I? It’s a terribly boring story.”

The children, seven of them, nodding eagerly seemed to convince Kahlan. She sighs before pulling her hair back behind her, twisting it on itself before tucking it against her neck.

“As I was saying, there is a place in the Midlands called Aydindril and in Aydindril there is a palace,” Kahlan says lowly, drawing the children in.

Kari spoke again, “The Confessor’s palace.”

Richard isn’t surprised when Kahlan looks at him, questions in her eyes. “Yes, the Confessor’s palace. But even within those walls, there is more to see than you could ever imagine.”

It must have been an hour as Kahlan weaved her story for the children, speaking of cooks and tutors and the Wizard’s keep. They seemingly enjoyed that most, especially when Kahlan told them about a servant who was turned into a frog for disobeying a wizard.

“It wasn’t for very long, but he did eat flies for a long time after that,” Kahlan smiles again but it’s tight and wane, her eyes spoke of distance and pain.

Out of nowhere, Richard felt compelled to speak, “I’m sure the Mother Confessor of the time found it amusing.”

Kahlan stops for a moment, “Actually, she did. She took the frog and gave him to her daughter. To take care of while he endured his punishment.”

Richard reaches for Kahlan’s hand, lacing his fingers through hers, “He was a vibrant blue with little white dots on his back.”

A little boy, no more than 5, asks, “What did he taste like?”

Laughing, Richard ruffled his hair with his free hand, “Didn’t your mother ever teach you - don’t lick frogs.”

The boy shrugged before parents came to collect their children, deeming it too late for more stories. Kari protested the most, “But Mama, Kahlan was going to tell us about her dresses.”

The mother stops for a moment, smiling, “Darling, I’m sure the Mother Confessor will tell you about her dresses. Tomorrow.”

Kari got off Richard’s lap, staring at them both, clearly feeling betrayed that she couldn’t stay longer.

They would stay the night but no longer than necessary and Kari never would hear about Kahlan’s dresses.

&

The stars glitter brightly in the night sky as Richard stares at them, arms crossed under his head. To his left, across the fire, Kahlan lay on her bedroll, sleeping lightly. Quietly at first, so much so Richard was unsure if he was even hearing what he was hearing, he realises Kahlan is twitching in her sleep, nightmares have come to visit her.

Biting his lip for a moment, he picks up his own bedroll and lays it next to hers. Sitting down, he brushes a lock of raven hair out of Kahlan’s eyes. Her eyelids flutter as if she knew he had touched her. Another shift and Kahlan twitching more violently, moaning and a ‘no’ escape her lips.

Carefully, Richard moves down, laying on his side, his body curving around Kahlan’s. Her hip is pressed against his stomach as is her shoulder to his chest, his leg lying against hers. Gently, Richard wraps his arm around her waist as he rests his chin on top of her head.

-

Richard can still smell the elderflower scent of Kahlan’s hair. It tickles his nose. It’s a slow realisation that Kahlan is pressed tighter to him than he had placed her the night before. Her fingers are entwined with his, clutched beneath the line of her breasts, her calves have managed to hook themselves around Richard’s right leg, Richard can even feel the low ridge of her spine against his stomach.

Richard hates himself in a second as he calls softly, “Kahlan.”

She refuses to wake, snuggling closer against him. Their hands rise to between Kahlan’s breasts, Richard can feel the top of her corset against the top of his hand.

Weighing his odds, Richard shifts, trying to move gently away from Kahlan but he does little other than worsen his feelings about holding Kahlan in his arms this way.

“I’m sure there is a timely explanation for this, Richard,” Zedd says calmly, biting into an apple as Richard looks up at him red faced.

-

Kahlan didn’t speak to him for two days after what she deemed ‘the incident’. He had explained about her nightmares, her distress and he had only wanted to help. Kahlan’s face softened for a second before she slipped into her Confessor face.

“I won’t be needing your help in -- this matter, thank you,” Kahlan spoke coldly but with a faint blush on her cheeks. Richard knew her better, she spoke the words because she had to. Never because she wanted to.

&

Aydindril was a sweeping landscape with the Confessor’s palace a pure white statute of guidance for its people and travellers.

“Mother Confessor,” People call as Kahlan passes them. She embraces some, others she simply gives her hand. Everyone seems insistent on touching her, as if they could take some part of her into themselves as well.

Kahlan doesn’t look at him when she tells him, “The Mother Confessor belongs to the people of the Midlands, why shouldn’t they find comfort in the touch of what is theirs?”

Theirs drops like an anvil between them. Zedd ignores both of them as he heads for the Wizard’s Keep, assuring them they won’t be here longer than necessary.

-

“Spiced soup, Mother Confessor,” A servant girl tells Kahlan, averting her eyes as Kahlan picks up a spoon.

The same servant girl bows to Richard, “How may we serve you, Seeker?”

Richard blinks a few times, no one has ever bowed to him before, “Soup is great, thank you.” He lays his hand over the girl’s, her eyes wide like saucers, “It’s Richard, by the way.”

She nods and looks at Kahlan, who smiles encouragingly, “Victoria.”

Victoria smiles as she returns with Richard’s soup, even stopping to speak with him. Regardless, she still keeps her head bowed and silent in front of Kahlan.

“You can talk to her, you know,” Richard says, smiling at Kahlan. “She’s just like you.”

Victoria looks at him, horrified, then at Kahlan before bowing her head again, “Mother Confessor.”

Kahlan’s face flashes hurt for a second before she recovers, “It’s seen as a impertinence to address the Mother Confessor. For a servant to speak freely with her is a punishable offence.”

Victoria snuck a look at Kahlan with what Richard would have called sympathy, “Confessors are not like us, my lord. We must respect them and what they do for us.”

Richard tore off some bread, thoughtfully, “I’m the Seeker, there’s no one like me. Does that mean I must live my life looking at the tops of people’s heads?”

Kahlan gave him a sharp look rather out of necessity, as her face held amusement. Victoria smiles if somewhat mischievously, turning to Kahlan, “How was it? Out there, Mother Confessor?”

Approvingly, Richard listens as Kahlan tells some of their story, most of it was the last month or so, defeating Darken Rahl. Kahlan smiles widely, a smile that seems to light the world around her, “Victoria, I’d like for you to call me Kahlan.”

Victoria looks taken aback, but nods, “Of course, Confessor Kahlan.”

Kahlan shakes her head, “No, just Kahlan. Like Richard.”

Another smile between the two women and they are in agreement.

-

Richard sits out on the balcony of his room at the Palace. He knows from memory as Victoria lead them down the corridor, Kahlan’s room is three doors down and on the opposite side.

He, himself, couldn’t sleep. The bed was too large, too soft for his liking, like he would sink into it in the night.

Making his choice, Richard went into the hallway, nodding his head to the guards posted down its length.

A older woman, with a reproving scowl stopped Richard at Kahlan’s door. “Anything I can help you with?”

“I was going to speak to Kahlan,” Richard says as if the woman was mad to question it.

“The Mother Confessor must sleep-- alone,” Her eyebrow arches at the last word and Richard rubs the back of his neck.

“Look-- ,”

Kahlan opens her door, light flickering as she held her candle, “It’s okay, Richard, come in.”

“Mother Confessor!” The woman reprimanded Kahlan.

Kahlan gives Richard her candle and shoos him in to her room, “Matron, I’ve spend the last year’s worth of nights alone with Richard, I assure you, my virtue is safe.”

Richard’s ears are red from the implication. Kahlan shuts the door and folds her arms, “What’s wrong?”

“About--”

“That? Matron is of the old way, a way that doesn’t apply to Confessors,” Kahlan shrugs, “What’s really wrong Richard?”

“Aren’t you bothered by,” He gestures around them, “all this?”

Kahlan nods, “Richard, you’re an important man, this is what you should be getting accustomed to.”

Richard doesn’t. It isn’t his skin. He’s a wood’s guide through and through, the ground his bed and the stars his roof. He doesn’t speak it though, something in his face must have changed because Kahlan took the candle and set it down before hugging him.

Elderflower, it’s in his nose, his head, his heart. He notices her neck is bare, her hair braided for sleep. Almost habitually, he leaned down and kissed the smooth skin of her neck. Her breath hitched against his ear.

“Richard…”

The many reasons of ‘never’ came into being, thoughts in his head he never wanted. But yet he couldn’t force himself to say them.

Pressing a kiss to Kahlan’s temple, he forces himself away from her warmth, back towards the door. “We should probably see to Zedd tomorrow,” He says quietly, almost hoarse.

Kahlan only nodded in agreement.

&

Zedd’s words hold no meaning, they brush past Richard like butterfly wings. Wings dipped in pain and hate.

“Darken Rahl was your brother, Richard. You are now the new Lord Rahl,” Zedd repeats like Richard is deaf and dumb.

“No,” The word comes out unbidden but not untrue.

“Richard, you cannot deny --”

Richard shakes his head, “I don’t care, I don’t want… this!” His hands are thrown up, in anger, rage and pain. Darken Rahl was evil and Richard killed him. There didn’t need to be this -- subtext.

Dressed in white, Kahlan stood with her hands clasped in front of her. Her eyes wander over him, Richard can feel it, but he knows she won’t come to him now.

“Darken Rahl was my brother,” He says, testing the words, “And because of it, I must now, what? Rule D’Hara?”

Zedd nodded, “It can be no other than a true Rahl.”

Richard flinches at the word ‘Rahl’, he placed so much hate in the word he cannot bring himself to remove it, “I won’t.”

Zedd looks at him with incredulity, but Richard holds firm, “I’m the Seeker, not a ruler. I don’t want his kingdom.”

“The people will follow no other,” Kahlan says honestly, “They can only follow the Lord Rahl, magic binds them.”

Disgust rises up in Richard, uncurling, unfolding, “He bound them to him with magic and when he died shouldn‘t it have broke?”

Zedd shakes his head, “This magic was laid down in the beginning of being by his, your, ancestor to protect the people of D’Hara. The divination speaks of it.”

Master Rahl guide us, Master Rahl protect us…

“This,” Richard gestures around them, “is madness.”

Slowly, Kahlan walks to him, her hands going to his, “Madness is turning your back on the people who need you. No matter how you came to help them.”

Richard finds an apology in her blue eyes. She is sorry for him, sorry that he must know this, that she is sorry he is a Rahl.

“To help them,” He says definitively, at Kahlan, then at Zedd.

Zedd nods, “Of course my boy.”

“Fine,” Richard almost spits out the word, he still doesn’t want this. Hopes he can be free of it but until then he will bear it.

“All hail Lord Rahl,” Zedd intones with more than a little sarcasm.

&

The D’Harans arrived the next day, take up the main square in Aydindril, hoping to meet their Lord Rahl. Zedd explained the bond but Richard still feels unnerved.

General Reibisch announces himself in Richard’s rooms despite the Matron’s insistence that ‘Lord Rahl’ wishes only to be with his thoughts.

“Lord Rahl,” Reibisch thumps his fist over his heart and bows.

Richard tempers his anger and suddenly volatile stomach, “General, why are you here?”

“Your people Lord Rahl, they wish to meet you. Know you as they have know Lord Rahls of past,” Reibisch gives Richard a look that makes him feel very, very stupid indeed.

“Fine, but it’s Richard, okay,” Richard lays his hand on the hilt of the Sword of Truth and Reibisch’s eyes meet it.

“Your sword is fine, my lord,” Reibisch’s own sword was fine but nothing had yet to compare to the Sword of Truth.

“I am the Seeker, General Reibisch,” Richard’s eyes dance with the idea of a possible threat, “is that a problem?”

The General thumped his fist over his chest again, “Never Lord Rahl, D’Hara will be greatly pleased by this news.”

Richard’s eyebrows rise.

“It shows the world, D’Hara is once again ruled with strength, that our Lord Rahl is the Seeker of Truth.”

A maid knocked on the door, bowing to Richard before taking his dirty tea tray with her. Richard crosses one arm over his chest, the other rubbing under his chin. “If D’Hara is truly to follow my rule, then we must ally ourselves with the Mother Confessor.”

Reibisch looks surprised but covers easily, “It has been many years since this was so, how will this come into being my lord?”

“You’re going to present yourself to the Mother Confessor and ask her.” Richard says with a smile, “Now of course.”

Another bow and fist bump and Reibisch is gone.

&

Kahlan happily tells Richard off for fobbing General Reibisch on her. As Mother Confessor, her job was to bring peace and she could only do that through treaties of peace made with the [I]leaders[/I] of lands that wished to align with her.

Richard tries not to laugh but ends up snorting behind his piece of bread. A quick duck to the left and he avoids the piece Kahlan throws at him.

Zedd glares at them both for wasting food, before he returns to his cheese, “Richard, try this.”

Richard sniffs the cheese before putting it in his mouth, “Urgh, what is that?”

The taste of rotting mould fills Richard’s mouth, Zedd frowns, “It’s perfectly good Edam.”

Zedd shares a look with Kahlan that passes Richard as he swallows a few mouthfuls of wine to clear his mouth. Zedd taps Richard again and this time Richard glares, “What?”

“Richard, there are reports of trouble in the north, you must attend them,” Zedd bites into the Edam and Richard wants to throw up.

“Fine, we’ll leave tomorrow.”

&

…Stone of Tears,

Screeling; his assassins have come to rip off your skin…

“I did this. When I killed Rahl with the Boxes of Orden,” Richard whispers.

Kahlan looks at him quietly, sadly in agreement.

“So we’ll stop it. We’ll find the Stone and repair the crack,” Richard says with confidence. Confidence not one of them has an abundance of.

Richard draws the Sword of Truth as if it would aid his words in that moment. He inspects it before he feels the hilt vibrate in his hand.

“Richard?” Kahlan frowns, staring at his hand.

Looking downward, intent on his face, Richard replies, “I think the Keeper heard us.”

Fin.

Smallville: All fall down [1/5]

Thu, 30 Jul 2009 15:05:43 GMT

Title: All Fall Down [1/5]; Part of the 'Future is now' series.
Author: Rae.
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Clark, Lois, Chloe (minimal); Clark/Lois implied.
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for Season 9 (9x01 & 02 specifically.) Set in 9x01 Saviour.
Disclaimer: Do not own. Ever. Not claiming to either.
Summary: Lois returns with memories of before but also a hitchhiker too.
Author Notes: Title from a song of the same name from One Republic.
Word Count: 1,383

&

Glass crunched under the heel of Lois’ boots and she pulled herself out of the train wreck. Looking at the sky, Lois blinked at the broken train tracks with little interest. Lois nodded numbly, “Huh.” As if that was the appropriate response to surviving what should have been a fatal accident.

Lois felt a sharp pain grip her, her skull intent on splitting itself open, she pressed a hand to her forehead, screwing her eyes shut. Lois felt warm arms circle around her, offer her some of what she knew to be extraordinary strength.

Slowly, eyes still closed, Lois slipped to the floor, legs spread out, head in hands. The only comfort was that her saviour had chosen to sit with her, her back to his chest, his arms still around her, loosely hugging her waist.

She knew the moment she opened her eyes he’d be gone. He had told her it might hurt her to return with the memories she had but she couldn’t give them up. Not if the future he had shown her would still come to pass. She needed them to keep her sane, to keep her going. But she hadn’t expected the blur, the hazy film that now seemed to cover them. She knew his name, Superman, she knew his powers but any more and the pain would consume her.

“So, you come here often?” Lois jested as she took one hand from her face and placed it over his. “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t speak. No, he wouldn’t speak to her now, Lois sighed reluctantly. “Right, still with the macho secrecy. I don’t miss that.”

There was a small perceptible jerk in his body, Lois patted his hand lightly, “I made you a promise I intend to keep, whether you know it or not -- Superman.”

Lois let him slip his arms from around her, sirens wailed in the background. Lois was surprised when he pressed a soft kiss to the crown of her head. It made her open her eyes, but she never saw him, her human eyes would never seem him. Not until he let her.

---

Lois swallowed two aspirin when she got back to her apartment. It did little to ease her pain but little was more than enough.

Happily, Lois went into her room, slipping out of her shoes and crawling on the bed to lie on her belly. The coolness of her sheets were pleasant against the fever she didn’t know she had. She couldn’t even get her jacket down her shoulders before her body jerked against the bed.

The flashes broke into her mind easily.

Grunting, Lois pushed herself up and off her face. Rolling on her back, she cursed.

“Lois Lane.” A commanding voice called.

Lois sat up and looked into the eyes of a man, a man she knew. “Clark?”

He offered her his hand, Lois took it almost eagerly, “What happened? One second I was in the bullpen and then I…”

Lois looked past Clark and out the window, instead of the night sky Lois had left, it was day or what she gathered would be day, if it constantly rained fire.

“Lois, I can explain, you just need to trust me,” Clark said softly, almost pleading, like she would suddenly turn away.

“Clark, when did the world end?” Lois whispered as she walked over to the window.

“Lois, please, it’s not safe here,” Clark touched her arm, pulling her back.

Lois nodded, “Sure. Let’s go.”

Clark shuffled his feet slightly, as if he was uncomfortable in her presence, “I need to close your eyes, and keep them closed.”

Obliging him, if somewhat begrudgingly, Clark’s hands encircled her waist. Lois opened her eyes, Clark looked down at her, “If this is some way to cop a feel, Smallville…”

“Smallville,” Clark replied with reverence, “No one’s called me that in years. Not since you disappeared.”

Lois saw the pain in Clark’s eyes, his eyes were brimming with it. Instead of answering, she complied, closing her eyes.

What Lois didn’t realise was the force of flight would make her fall into Clark’s arms.

“Whoa,” Lois grabbed onto Clark’s biceps. “What just happened?”

Clark didn’t ignore her question so much as he chose not to answer. Lois jabbed his chest, “Hey, I’m talking to you.”

“Lois, do you know where you are?” Clark looked at her with dark eyes, dark with pain again.

Lois folded her arms, “I’m not from around here, I’m guessing.”

“You’re from the past. 1,000 years in the past. This is the 31st Century,” Clark said sombrely. Lois looked at him, in all his seriousness and laughed.

Lois grunted again as she rolled over on to her back. Her eyes snapped open when the weight on her bed shifted. A foot either side of Lois’ legs and a grim face looking down at her, Lois acted quickly. She brought her foot up to kick her intruder, a woman in black but she was quicker, grabbing Lois’ foot and shoving it back down.

“Oh crap,” Lois managed before she slipped her hand in her jacket pocket, the one she hadn’t managed to take off.

The intruder leaned down for her but Lois pulled out a piece of green rock, attached to a chain and held it out in front of her. “Lead lined jacket pockets, it’s all the rage in the future.” Lois said angrily before she kicked out, racing out of her room. The woman didn’t give up, even in her weakened state. Lois ran down the hall of her apartment building. Quickly, Lois put the rock around her neck, a precaution, she had been made to take.

Reaching the elevator, Lois pushed the button as hard as she could, grateful it reached her as quickly as it did. She pressed ‘U’ to take her to the underground parking lot, hoping her car would still be there.

Lois let out another curse as she ran on the gravel, nothing to protect her bare feet. A hand grabbed her hair, Lois yelled in anger, turning around punching the woman in the shoulder to get her to release her.

“You. Will…” The woman half got out before the green rock glowed again. Lois took another shot, punching the woman’s arm again. She finally let go of Lois’ hair and Lois barely got another step before the woman hit her with something. Lois hit her head on her car as she went down. Gripping the rock tightly, hoping she couldn’t be parted with it, she shouted as loud as she could, “SUPERMAN!”

---

Lois woke up in hospital, her memory hazier than before, Chloe sat at her bedside, holding her hand, “Lois, oh my god, Lois, you’re okay.”

Lois harrumphed, “I think so. Water?”

A hand came into Lois’ field of vision and handed her the cup, a coloured straw poking out, “Here.”

Lois turned, winced as she did so, “Clark?”

Clark looked at her darkly, “Lois, did you remember you were found slumped against your car with a serious head injury?”

Lois rolled her eyes, her voice a portrait of sarcasm, “Clearly.”

Chloe looked worriedly at Clark, Lois shrugged, “People get hit on the head and forget stuff all the time.”

Lois noticed the look between the two, “My name is Lois Joanne Lane, I was born in 1985, my mother’s name is Ella, who is by the way, dead and my father is General Sam Lane. See I‘m fine.”

Clark didn’t seem convinced, “Lois, what do you remember about your disappearance?”

“That? Well, one minute I was at the Daily Planet, then I wasn‘t, then I woke up in hospital,” Lois sucked some of the water through the straw before making a face and throwing the straw away.

Clark seemed to mull it over while Lois glared at him, “You could at least say you’re happy to see me.”

This seemed to knock Clark out of his thoughts, eyes focused on her before he pulled her into a hug, his mouth next her ear. In tones only she could hear, Clark told her, “Of course I’m happy to see you, Lois.”

“Good to see you too, Smallville,” Lois returned the hug happily but it felt like, somewhere deep inside her, there was more to the words than even she knew.

Fin.

Continued; in Say (All I need) Link to be added.

Legend of the Seeker: Losing my ground

Fri, 26 Jun 2009 21:50:08 GMT

Title: Losing my ground (AKA What happened when Kahlan met Richard‘s Ex.)[1/1]
Author: Rae
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Kahlan, Richard, Anna, Chase and misc. characters; Kahlan/Richard, implied Richard/Anna.
Warnings/Spoilers: Set in 1x14 Hartland but more or less AU from the main plot. References to episodes before it and general series spoilers.
Disclaimer: Sword of Truth series belongs to Terry Goodkind and Legend of the Seeker belongs to Disney/ABC, this is a piece of non-profit fiction and makes no claims to be anything else.
Summary: “I made a promise which I intend to keep,” Kahlan sighed, “How long do you think this will go on for?”
“A while, those two could scream for hours,” Chase said with a sad smile, “I know it must be hard for you, seeing Anna.”
“Because Richard loved her before?” Kahlan shrugged…
Author Notes: Thanks to the girls; Rosie, Kate and Chloe for giggle fun tiemz that ensured that this fic would get finished and not thrown on the “ARGH I’ve had enough pile.”
Word Count: 4,858

There been another. Another who had touched Richard’s heart and made it beat faster at the promise of something more.

Anna, Kahlan noted, was more slight than her. Her chest didn’t spill in the same way Kahlan’s did when she leant forward. But still Richard tracked the movement. Anna placed a hand on her hip, again smaller than Kahlan’s own, she wondered if this was something the Westland people considered attractive. If Kahlan was honest, she felt a certain amount of satisfaction that even though the practise of the hair growth and corresponding social standing didn’t apply here, her hair was longer than Anna’s.

“You found her pretty once Richard,” Kahlan replied as Anna sat speaking with Chase not but a foot from Kahlan and Richard.

Richard seemed stilted, admit that he did, this would upset Kahlan and if he said he didn’t, she knew he’d be lying to her.

“What I found attractive then doesn’t apply to me now. I’m a different man,” Richard said, not with ease as he walked over to the table away from Kahlan.

A changed man. A man who fought to free the world from evil rule. But a man who had everything he held dearly destroyed in pursuit of his own end.

Kahlan felt the weight of it, drowned in it before she excused herself to go outside.

“Kahlan,” A soft voice called. Anna made her way from the doorway to where Kahlan picked up a few cursory stones.

She felt her power prickle at the intrusion. Anna was unaware of what a Confessor was, what Kahlan could do in the space of a heartbeat. Her face slipped into a mask, “Anna? Is there something I can…”

“You travel with Richard?”

It was a futile question, of course Kahlan travelled with Richard, she narrowed her eyes as Anna continued.

“And you would know, if -- if there was anyone in his heart,” Anna looked up at Kahlan under dark eyelashes, her face sweet and innocent. Nothing of the woman who put to sleep a D’Haran soldier so she could steal from him.

Kahlan kept her face smooth, her tone was cold and she felt no need to warm it, “I make no presumptions as to knowing Richard’s heart.”

“But you’re his friend. Are you saying you aren’t even as close to acknowledge his feelings?”

That shocked her. Kahlan didn’t know if Anna was referring to Kahlan’s clear ambivalence or if Richard himself had spoken of her to Anna.

“Richard is a man of his own mind. Sometimes I wonder if I ever really know what’s going on in there,” Kahlan said honestly. “But --”

Anna looked at her again, hopeful.

“He hasn’t said if there was a person he would like,” Kahlan kept her face still even though her heart was torn into a thousand pieces.

Richard called for them, standing in the doorway to Chase‘s house, Kahlan could see him frowning. He was staring at her, maybe he noted her ‘Confessor’ face. Maybe he just didn’t like the thought of the two women talking.

Kahlan looked at both of them before she spoke, “I’m going to go into town, there are a few things I need.”

“Oh my, my,” The dressmaker said as she saw Kahlan enter her shop. “Aren’t you a pretty thing?”

Kahlan smiled, the warmth of the shop owner made her feel at ease. “I’m so sorry to bother you but I need a dress and rather soon.”

“Really, dear? I’ve already made several gowns that would suit such a lovely face,” Delia, as she revealed her name to be, said as she offered up a gown of green velvet.

“That’s not what I had in mind,” Kahlan said, picking up a dress in blue velvet with a satin under layer.

“You’re going to take me with you,” Kahlan said to Anna.

Anna looked at Kahlan for a moment, unclear of her intent, “You seduced a high ranking official, I want you to take me with you.”

“Kahlan --”

“I won’t tell Richard if you help me,” Kahlan offered. Anna seemed to be weight her options before she agreed.

“But I don’t think they’ll think much of you in your forest wear,” Anna hadn’t implied anything other than its plain meaning. Kahlan knew couldn’t wear her Confessor’s dress either, so she held up her proffered blue dress, “I have it covered.”

Kahlan held herself high in the mirror. With a few alterations, the dress was just what Kahlan imagined. Blue like her eyes, it was tight on her corset underneath, baring her shoulders and sitting low on her breasts. Kahlan turned left then right, the hem swishing in place. It reached just above her ankles but a slit to the thigh exposed enough and a little flesh to impress.

Anna poked her head through the door, “Are you ready?”

Kahlan grabbed her cloak, placing it on her shoulders and hugged it tight to herself. Neither Chase nor Richard could see what they were up to.

“I guess we’ll have to find out,” Kahlan said quietly as she followed Anna out.

“What do those two think they’re doing?” Chase asked Richard as Richard sat down with some spiced soup.

“I have no idea, but I intend to find out,” Richard seemed more than concerned at this turn of events, Chase noted.

“Without being seen?”

“Without being seen.” Richard agreed.

&

People played instruments, but the music left no room to misconstrue the intent. It was meant to seduce, but with the amount of men and ale, it wouldn’t have been hard in the silence.

Kahlan slipped her cloak from her shoulders, the men already watching her and Anna let out murmurs of appreciation.

One, a higher ranking soldier, was as bold as to walk straight up to Anna and ask, “Who is your friend Anna? Do tell where you‘ve been hiding her.”

Kahlan held her face to not let her disgust show at the leer the man made. Anna shrugged, nonchalant, “She’s just visiting. She was kind enough to suggest that she might bring some fun with her on her way through.”

“I’m sure,” The soldier nodded, slapping Kahlan on the backside, “Got a name honey?”

“Kahlan,” Kahlan said sweetly, leaning forward slightly, he would never remember her name, let alone realise she was a Confessor. His eyes went straight to her breasts, Anna looked at her sharply, but Kahlan ignored her. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice? Oh it’s gonna be more than ‘nice’ darlin’,” He assured her.

Kahlan made her way back to the main hall. She messed her hair and ruffled her clothing before she turned to the soldier, Lucas, “You know your orders.”

“Yes Confessor, I am to steal any information on the missing people of Hartland and report back to you,” Lucas nodded, his face contorted in a smile Kahlan realised he must not have done it often.

Lucas ignored his fellow soldiers as he left, Anna pulled Kahlan aside, “What did you just do?”

“I got us some help,” Kahlan said harshly and stared at the hand touching her.

Anna looked at her with real anger in her eyes, “My brother’s life is at stake! And you’re informing D’Haran --”

“No, I didn’t tell him anything. I just got him on our side,” Kahlan said before she turned and left.

“Kahlan thinks of no one but herself,” Anna cried as Richard sat in front of her.

Kahlan sat out on Chase’s porch as she heard Anna rage. Chase sat beside her, he eyed her cloak, “Anything you want to share, Kahlan?”

“I made a promise which I intend to keep,” Kahlan sighed, “How long do you think this will go on for?”

“A while, those two could scream for hours,” Chase said with a sad smile, “I know it must be hard for you, seeing Anna.”

“Because Richard loved her before?” Kahlan shrugged, “We’ve all loved before.”

“Maybe so, but very few love like you and Richard. I see how much of himself he gives to you. I just hope that you can wholly return that love.” Chase patted her cloak covered leg and stood.

Truthfully, she could not. She could never truly given in to her own needs as she would destroy Richard’s soul, the very thing she so desperately craved.

“I selfishly keep Richard for myself, even though I know we can never be,” Kahlan said, tears forming in the back of her eyes. “But I hope he can be happy with Anna.”

Chase nodded gravely at Kahlan, his eyes penetrating her. Kahlan wondered if he could see how much it had cost her to admit what was really going on.

“What about his destiny? His duties as the Seeker?”

“Anna has proven herself well in each instance. I see no problems --”

Chase cut her off, “Kahlan, you say your duty is to serve and protect Richard but this does neither.”

Kahlan’s eyes blazed blue fire as she stared Chase down, “I know my duty, Chase. I am to lay down my life in service of the Seeker, I am to guide him through his travels, answer his questions as he wishes to ask them of me. But this,” She thumped her hand on her chest over her heart, “Can never be his. Unless I want to be the one who kills him.”

Chase’s eyes widened before he scooped Kahlan up in a hug, “I’m so sorry, Kahlan. I didn’t know.”

Kahlan swatted Chase’s shoulder, trying to get him to let her down. Her feet currently swung a few inches off the floor. Chase smiled and let her get to her feet. Ruffled, Kahlan’s cloak shifted and revealed her deception.

Chase’s eyebrows rose and Kahlan blushed, “I had nothing to wear.”

“I would say that’s still the case,” Chase smiled wide, making Kahlan feel better in the same instance.

Kahlan shook her head, taking her dues, “I managed to get us a friend on the inside, but we’re still going to need someone higher if we really want to find out what’s going on with the missing people.”

“Another ruse?” Chase said with hesitation. He was well aware of what the D’Haran forces were capable of.

Kahlan shook off her cloak, “Of course.”

Chase didn‘t seem to agree, “Are you sure you’re able?”

Kahlan smiled but it was distant and held no warmth, “Don’t worry about me, I am more than capable.”

&

“This is ridiculous!” Richard said, arms thrown up, “Kahlan would never endanger innocent people. It’s not who she is.”

“I’m telling you Richard, she told the D’Harans what we’re doing, that we know what they’ve been doing,” Anna said, resigned.

“What exactly did Kahlan say?” Richard sighed, his mind unable to see Kahlan as his betrayer. Not even when it was prophesised.

“When I asked her what she had done, she said, she had gotten him on our side,” Anna’s eyes flared again. Clearly, she didn’t appreciate Richard’s lack of faith in her judgement.

“She didn’t betray you,” Richard said with bright eyes, “She confessed him.”

“Richard?” Anna frowned at him. Anna didn’t know what a Confessor was, didn’t know what Kahlan had sacrificed by going behind enemy lines.

Richard stood quickly, calling for Kahlan before he had even opened the door. Chase sat on the porch, looking up at him, “She went back into town. Went looking for a bigger fish.”

An hour. It had been an hour since they came back from town. Kahlan’s power wasn’t yet returned to her. She had gone back into town, knowing full well she couldn’t defend herself to the best of her abilities.

Richard didn’t have to have his hands on the Sword to feel his anger, his fear for Kahlan. Anna barely kept up with him as he stalked his way back to the tavern. Anna tried pulling on his sleeve, Richard only stopped for a moment, “Richard, this is madness, they’re looking everywhere for you and here you are advertising yourself for them.”

Out of habit more than anything, Richard drew the Sword of Truth, its etchings glowing in the dark of night. “Kahlan needs me.”

There was an almighty yell, before a man flew out of the doorway to the tavern. His throat was bloody, clearly cut, from ear to ear. Anna gasped as another man emerged, covered in the blood of the first man, Richard turned his head sharply, “What is it?”

“That’s the guard, the one Kahlan said she had gotten on our side.”

“What’s his name?”

“Lucas Teramaine,” Anna slid a knife out from her underskirt, ready to protect herself.

“Lucas!” Richard yelled, Lucas looked at him with death in his eyes. Richard sheathed his sword, “Lucas, where is Kahlan? Where is she?”

“Mistress Kahlan,” He moaned with woe, Richard’s heart felt like it was in a vice, he forced himself to calm. Kahlan had to still be alive, the man was still confessed.

“He knew her,” Lucas said, gesturing to the dead man, “Threatened Mistress Kahlan, slapped her, made her hit her head, and pulled his blade.”

Lucas pulled his own sword out of the man and didn’t even bother to wipe it, “But Mistress Kahlan was ready for him, she stabbed the closest of his men, called for me to protect her as she got away.”

“Kahlan got away.” Richard said mostly to himself, “Where? Where did she go?”

“Not far, so much blood on her face,” Lucas put his hands over his eyes, as if he could scrub the image of Kahlan’s hurt face from his mind.

Anna looked at Richard, fear on her face, “I hate to say it Richard but this is Sergeant Boker, he has at least five men with him at a time.”

Four of them had gone after Kahlan, who was hurt and without her power. Richard followed Lucas as he guided them in the direction Kahlan had gone, “Why only four? If they knew who she was why didn‘t they capture her right here?”

“Mistress Kahlan tricked them,” Lucas said with a smile, “She tricked them with her beauty.”

Richard felt his stomach drop, “What do you mean?”

“I say what I mean,” Lucas said with a dreamy look, “Mistress Kahlan is fair of form, is she not?”

“What’s wrong with him?” Anna whispered as they followed close behind.

Richard was in a quiet state of fury since Lucas had revealed how Kahlan had tricked the men. How she was able to confess him. “He’s confessed.”

“Confessed?” Anna frowned. “You’ve said that before. Kahlan confessed him.”

“She is a Confessor,” Richard said reluctantly, he didn’t feel it was his place to share Kahlan’s power with Anna.

“What is a Confessor?”

“A being of magic. A woman with a gift to take, through love, a person’s free will so they will only serve her.” Richard knew that was only a short and unworthy explanation of Kahlan’s power but it would have to do.

Anna thought on this for a moment, “But she has not confessed you?”

Richard stopped dead, “No!”

“Richard, I’m sorry. I didn’t…” Anna laid a hand on his arm, trying to comfort the sudden outburst.

“Kahlan would rather die than confess me, that much is clear,” Richard placed his hand on the Sword, his feeling of anger did not subside, only strengthened. Richard stopped, for the first time he could see Kahlan’s tracks, followed by that of the soldiers.

“Kahlan, where are you?” Richard whispered and hoped they would not be too late.

&

Kahlan ripped off a part of her dress, pressing it against her wound. It looked worse than it was but still, she felt woozy. She had been running for so long, her legs felt like lead and her heart felt like that of a overrun horse.

Stopping at a small lake which at some point on their travels, she was sure Richard had named, Kahlan washed her face and scooped up some water to her mouth. It felt like ambrosia, cooling her down for a few moments. Kahlan hoped she had managed to lose her pursuers. While neither she nor the group knew these woods particularly well, she had one thing they didn’t. Richard. On his guidance, she had managed to find the cave of his childhood, the one he spent hours playing in. Secret and secluded, only Richard and a select few knew where it was.

Sighing, Kahlan pulled off the remaining slipper she had on. The other had been sacrificed to a bush earlier after getting caught. Pulling off another strip of her dress, Kahlan used it to braid her hair off her face. Luckily, the night wasn’t cold as Kahlan made her way across the rocks of the lake over to the cave. Still when she finally sat down, feeling only the slightest bit sheltered, Kahlan sat with her knees hugged to her chest.

&

“You think she went over to Brodden lake?” Anna smiled, hopefully. They had spoken little since the reveal of Kahlan’s Confessor ability and Richard could do little to relieve his tense mood.

“I talked about it a lot,” Richard said simply, Lucas had stopped, raving that he could no longer find his mistress’ tracks, Richard had to assure him that he could and would find Kahlan before they could continue on.

“Did you tell her about the time we spent there?” There was a hint of knowing in her voice. But it didn’t draw Richard’s fire, not anymore. Only Kahlan could cause him to burn.

“Why? It’s in the past,” Richard said evenly, he didn’t want to hurt Anna but he didn’t want her to think that there could be anything between them. For better and for worse, he had given himself wholly to his love of Kahlan, even if she couldn’t love him back the same way.

“Richard…”

“Anna, don’t,” Richard rolled his shoulders, as if to shrug off the weight of their past. “Do you want me to tell you what I think of Kahlan? The things I dream about her?”

Anna stared at him, she knew, she had known how he felt since the beginning but pursued him anyway. “You said her power prevents you being together, Richard. That’s not a life, it‘s a prison.”

Richard’s eyes darkened perceptibly, “I know what a prison is, Anna, I know what it’s like to suffer torture you can’t even begin to understand, and it was my love for Kahlan that saved me.”

“But she can never be yours,” Anna said sadly. Richard didn’t know if she was sad for herself or for him. He chided himself, whatever went on between them, Anna was first and foremost his friend, she was sad that he would never really have what he dreamed of as a young boy. A wife, a family, a home, just like his father.

“Maybe, but I’ll always be hers, as long as she wants me,” Richard sighed. They were about to reach Brodden lake. He prayed to the good spirits that Kahlan had remembered this place. Richard helped Anna over the stones, making Lucas wait at the edge of the lake, in case the soldiers came. He was happy enough, sword drawn and face grave.

“Kahlan?” Richard whispered at the outside of the cave. No reply.

Drawing the Sword, Richard led Anna in. Anna pushed past him when they saw Kahlan laying on the floor, unconscious. Anna tenderly probed the wound on Kahlan’s forehead. Richard forced himself to move, shoving the Sword back into its scabbard, he bent down to pick Kahlan up. With lightning accuracy, Kahlan held her hand centimetres from his throat.

“Kahlan, it’s me, Richard. You’re safe now,” He brushed his hand over her hair, raising his other, so she could see it.

She lowered her hand, his name escaping her lips, “Richard!”

Pulling her into a hug, Richard stroked Kahlan’s hair again, down over her braid, “This is new.”

“My hair, it was bothering me as I was running. I didn’t know if I’d have to run again so I braided it,” Kahlan said, standing. Quickly, she undid her hair and shook it loose. Richard flushed red when he could see Kahlan in the light of the cave entrance. Her dress was definitely unlike her Confessor dress.

Kahlan went rigid when she noticed Anna, “Thank you. For helping Richard.”

Richard noticed for the first time, how uncomfortable Kahlan was around Anna. Anna nodded, and gave a tilted of her head, “I’m glad you’re alright Kahlan.”

Kahlan nodded and continued out of the cave without them.

&

Kahlan noticed Lucas holding his hand out for her as she reached the lake, “Mistress Kahlan!”

Lucas lifted her back onto the bank with ease and showed no interest in Richard or Anna. Kahlan sighed, with her around he would never look at another human being unless she commanded it so.

“I killed him,” Lucas announced, proud. “To save you.”

Kahlan froze, “You killed Sergeant Boker?”

“Did-did I displease you Mistress?” Lucas looked worriedly at her.

Richard groused behind them, “No, you just announced to everyone that a Confessor is here in Hartland.”

Kahlan looked at Richard sharply, before looking at Anna. Anna raised a brow, “Richard already told me you’re a Confessor.”

Richard did give Anna a dark look but Kahlan was too tired, too hurt to care what was going on between them anymore. Kahlan’s head felt worse for all the thinking, she had done while she waited for Richard to come but now it seemed to be spiralling out of control.

Frowning, Kahlan stopped, “Wait, I don’t feel so good.”

Richard was at her side in an instant, holding her. He tried to catch her eye but Kahlan was forced to turn away as she emptied the contents of her stomach.

“Stop,” Richard said authoritatively, “You must have a concussion.”

Kahlan looked at him sceptically before he put his arm under her legs and picked her up, “Richard! What are you doing?! Put me down right now!”

Chase opened his door, wide eyed and ready, “What do we have here?”

“Kahlan has a concussion,” Richard said, putting Kahlan down on one of the more comfortable chairs.

“Which rendered her unable to walk?” Chase asked, amused.

Kahlan stood up, “Do you have a bath I could use? I would love to get out of these dirty clothes.”

“Sure, I’ll show you to it,” Chase said, giving Richard a look.

“Thank you Chase,” Kahlan said happily when she noticed the hot water already waiting for her.

“Emma thought you might need a bath when you got back,” Chase rubbed the back of his neck as she spoke, “She and the kids are in bed. I didn’t want to wake them when you returned.”

Kahlan nodded in agreement, “Of course.”

“So Richard carried you from Brodden lake?” Chase asked, mischievously.

“Yes, he was insistent on it,” Kahlan said, wrinkling her nose.

Chase seemed to think on it for a moment before he spoke, “I remember when Anna broke her leg at the lake. Richard came all the way back to his house for his father before he did anything to help her.”

“Your point?”

“Rather heroic don’t you think? Carrying you all the way back to town,” Chase mused.

“I’m a Confessor, being carried around like a child…” Kahlan stopped when she caught Chase’s meaning.

“Nice to know there’s still a bit of the old Richard still in there,” Chase said with another smile, “You better get in before it gets cold.”

Kahlan was just about to submerge when Anna knocked on the door, “Kahlan?”

Sliding in, Kahlan called to Anna, “I’m a little busy right now.”

“I know, it’s why I’m here,” Anna opened the door, “You have a concussion, Richard doesn’t want you left alone.”

“In the bath?” Kahlan said incredulously.

“You could drown, he said,” Anna smiled, Kahlan returned it.

“I suppose, I could.”

Anna sat on the stool beside the bath as Kahlan started to wash her hair, “I love your hair.”

Kahlan stopped, “Thank you.”

“You don’t tie it back? Braid it often?” Kahlan realised Anna was listening to the exchange between her and Richard.

“No, it’s a symbol of my authority, as a Confessor. It’s to show that a Confessor is ruled by no one.”

“But her own power,” Anna said quietly.

Kahlan was startled, she didn’t expect Anna to understand or know her… limitations. “My power is who I am. Who I was born to be.”

“Even if it means giving up Richard?” Anna stared Kahlan down. “Why did you tell me Richard had no one?”

“Because he doesn’t,” Kahlan said stiffly, her face slipping into her Confessor face, her feelings locked tight in their box.

“He loves you.”

“No.” Kahlan whispered. “He can’t.”

“He told me so himself,” Anna sighed and held her hand out to Kahlan, Kahlan looked down at it before she took it. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“A lot of things. But for bringing you pain. When I saw Richard, I saw our history, what everyone expected of us as if it was our destiny. I didn’t see or want to see that Richard had a different destiny.”

“Richard is the Seeker, he will save a lot of lives if he succeeds,” Kahlan said with a smile.

“And he’ll have you by his side,” Anna agreed.

Kahlan shook her head, “Of course but Richard wants things. Things I can never give him.”

“He is right to want them Kahlan, he loves you.”

Kahlan sighed and refused to answer. She just wanted to curl up and go to sleep. But at this rate, Richard would be waking her up every five seconds to ensure she wouldn’t fall into a coma. It was going to be a long night.

&

Richard was chopping wood when Kahlan went outside after her bath. “I might drown?” She said as she walked up to Richard.

“It was a possibility,” Richard replied with a smile. “Are you going to confess now?”

Kahlan quirked an eyebrow, “Confess?”

“That you were jealous of Anna,” Richard smiled still, but it faltered just a bit in his eyes. His worry was clearly creeping in.

Nodding, Kahlan sat down on the grass, “Yes, I was jealous. How could I not be?”

“She’s not you Kahlan,” Richard said quietly.

“No, but she can give you the things you want, she can kiss you…” Kahlan realised where that was heading and stopped. She was happy to see she wasn’t the only one who averted her eyes.

“I don’t want to kiss her, I want to kiss you.”

“You can’t,” Kahlan said sadly.

“One of these days Kahlan Amnell, I’m going to find a way.”

&

Richard didn’t want to leave like this, before Emma and the girls were awake but the soldiers had returned, yelling of a witch, a Confessor had come to take people’s souls.

Kahlan had already saddled her horse before Richard had finished eating. She kept her head down and away from Anna, whatever truce they had going on hadn’t held out till the morning.

Anna smiled and held Richard’s pack while he saddled up his horse. She apologised for everything that had happened and wished they could go back to the way it was before.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Richard said with one of his brightest smiles.

Anna bit her lip before she spoke again, “Richard, are you sure? About everything.”

Richard looked over to where Kahlan was placing her daggers back into their correct holders under her Confessor’s dress.

“Meeting Kahlan, it was like meeting the other half of myself,” Richard’s smile turned softer, “I just need her to realise that’s not something to be afraid of.”

“Then I hope the good spirits are with you Richard, because you’ll have a better time getting through to chicken man,” Anna said with a laugh.

Zedd. Richard thought with a laugh, “I wouldn’t say something like that Anna, he might hear you.”

Kahlan walked over, “Everything’s ready.”

Anna shifted next to Richard, “Thanks again Kahlan. Lucas will be a big help. I think he’s weeded out at least 6 possible scenarios of the missing people.”

Kahlan nodded, “I do hope you find your brother, Anna.”

“I pray that the good spirits be with you, Kahlan,” Anna smiled and squeezed Richard’s arm before she went inside.

“She would have made a nice wife,” Kahlan said, offhandedly, but Richard knew better.

“Yeah, just not my wife,” Richard gave Kahlan a smile he knew would infuriate her. “Off to find Zedd now?”

Kahlan clearly still wanted to be on this subject but she nodded as she walked back over to her horse. “You are the Seeker.”

Richard nodded, I know, but every time you say we shouldn’t be together, you’re lying to me. But if there was anything Richard had learnt as the Seeker it was that there was a time for truth and a time for secrets. No matter how much they hurt, they had to be kept. Otherwise there would be no light at the end of this tunnel.

Fin.

Legend of the Seeker: Close your eyes (We'll be together soon.)

Sat, 20 Jun 2009 19:53:48 GMT

Title: Close your eyes (We’ll be together soon.)
Author: Rae
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Kahlan, Rahl and misc. people; Kahlan/Richard with some Kahlan/Rahl.
Warnings/Spoilers: Set in 1x22 Reckoning. General and episode (1x22 specific) spoilers.
Disclaimer: The Sword of Truth series belongs to Terry Goodkind and Legend of the Seeker rights belong to Disney/ABC. This is a piece of non-profit fiction.
Summary: A short fic that charters at least a few points of Kahlan’s marriage to Darken Rahl and how she never gave up loving Richard.
Author Notes: Okay, this has been wanting to come out since I saw Reckoning. Seriously, where are the fics where Kahlan is married to Rahl? Come on, writers like nothing more than a bit of angst.
Word Count: 1,897

I

Kahlan never dreamed of marriage as a child. Raised by her mother, she saw first hand what any marriage to a Confessor would be like. She would live in fear of her own death, should it free her husband from her confession. He would be free to abuse the powers of any children they had. Kahlan’s own childhood after her mother’s death had been a testament to that.

Hands bound in front of her, Kahlan could still see the rope marks. Faded or not, they were still there.

But now it was not her hands that were bound. It was a shackle around her neck. The Rada’Haran.

“Your Majesty,” Her servant girl said automatically upon entering the same room as Kahlan. Kahlan didn’t reply, she sat by the window in her room. Staring out over D’Hara, Kahlan felt nothing but a sickness at her own imprisonment.

The girl laid new pillowcases on Kahlan’s bed, her previous ones drenched in silent tears she cried every night for the life she had stolen from her.

The life with Richard.

Now she was chained to Darken Rahl by a marriage born only from a mutual usefulness. Bile rose in her throat at the thought of it. It had been a week since the official marriage and yet Rahl had not come to her rooms.

“You will be my wife in everyway…”

Never. Kahlan decided. She would provide a daughter who would ensure Richard’s safe return to her. Then and only then would this nightmare be over.

II

“Queen Kahlan,” Another courtier said in flushed adornment.

Kahlan never paid attention to it, she knew that the moment she gave birth, whenever that should be she would be taken out and killed.

Rahl clasped her hand in his, his ever youthful hand seemed to torment her. Richard’s hand was the only hand she ever wished to hold. But she allowed it, she had to.

“My Lord Rahl,” The courtier continued, “Many blessings, should you be with child.”

Rahl’s grip tightened perceptibly on Kahlan’s hand. Two months since their marriage and Kahlan had still refused Rahl in her bed. She could not confess him but she could fight him and in turn he could not kill her as she was the only one who could provide him with the Confessor child he so desperately wanted.

Kahlan smiled, but it did not reach her eyes, “We expect it soon, do we not my Lord?”

Rahl relaxed and rubbed his thumb over the top of Kahlan’s hand, “Of course.”

“Excuse me, my Lord,” Kahlan said as she rose and bowed to Rahl.

Kahlan made it to the hall before she was violently ill in one of the castle plant pots.

III

It had been three months since the marriage. Kahlan and Rahl had settled into a comfortable pattern. He would visit her, she would refuse him and then the process of another argument would take over the palace.

“You are my wife! You are no longer Kahlan Amnell. You are Kahlan Rahl! It is your duty to provide our kingdom with an heir.”

Kahlan replied with complete disinterest, “Of course my Lord, if that is what you wish.”

“Then let me put it this way, dear wife,” Rahl made ‘wife’ sound so sickening, “You will never be his wife. You will never bear his name nor his child. Because you chose me.”

Rada’Haran on not, Kahlan launched herself at Rahl, her fingernails scratching his cheek, her knee colliding with his stomach. Rahl recovered and his hands caught her arms, his strength more than hers. He easily tossed her back onto the floor.

“Do you think he can see you? See what you’re going to do. With me,” His tone was implicit. He bent down so that his face was only a little higher than Kahlan’s, “Do you think he’ll wait for you in the underworld then?”

Kahlan looked up into harsh eyes, none of the warmth that Richard himself carried and backhanded Rahl across the face.

IV

Another party and another inquisition on the childless marriage of herself and Rahl. Kahlan was turned about the room by so many D’Haran sergeants she stopped even addressing them. At a moment of rest, Kahlan was approached by a D’Haran foot solider. Glass raised she didn’t even turn back when he spoke, “Your Majesty?”

“Mother Confessor,” He said quietly.

Kahlan stilled, no one at the palace was allowed to address her as Mother Confessor. She had only encountered a very few soldiers in the D’Haran army that allied themselves with the resistance.

“Yes?” Kahlan turned around and felt an ache in her heart.

Cropped dark hair and expressive dark eyes, her ally was a near double of Richard. Though he was a little taller, his eyes slightly further apart, the slant of his mouth was exactly the same as he smiled at her.

“It is an honour,” He bowed, “I’m Jared Deland, I’m from the Midlands.”

“Of course,” Kahlan felt her spirits raise, the Midlands still fought to free themselves of Darken Rahl even in the event of the Seeker’s ‘death’.

“Would you?” He gestured to the dancing couples. Kahlan’s eyes flickered over to Rahl, he was engrossed another conversation.

Kahlan held out her hand to which Jared guided her on to the floor. Jared was an accomplished dancer which surprised Kahlan, many of the lower rank soldiers didn’t need the skill so didn’t learn it.

“My wedding,” Jared replied as if he could see Kahlan’s thoughts. “My bride insisted on it. She believed it would bring us closer.”

Kahlan gave Jared a brief smile but her pain was great. It was moments like this, her heart could barely bear to be without Richard.

Jared must have noticed her pain as he spoke quietly, “We bring you this message, Kahlan Amnell, we are grateful. We pray each day for you, pray that you could be free of this duty. Until that day, know that the world is grateful to you.”

Kahlan held her tears as the dance ended. She smiled genuinely at Jared as he bowed and headed back to where the other foot soldiers sat.

Kahlan felt Rahl’s hand on her lower back, slowly guiding her away, “Having fun, wife?”

“No more than is allowed,” Kahlan threw back.

“Tonight you will fulfil your duty to me,” Rahl told her. Like he was telling her she needed to be in the courtyard at sunrise. It filled Kahlan with a quiet rage, she kept restrained until she reached her rooms and she destroyed all the glass within hands reach.

Sitting on red and gold sheets, Kahlan brought her knees up under her chin. Her skin felt slick but cold, her stomach had a hollow empty feeling.

Rahl’s hand traced the length of her spine from bottom to top before he pressed a kiss at the small of her back.

With her left hand, Kahlan held down the hand that had previously been on her back and her right swooped down on Rahl’s throat. Had she still had her powers she would have confessed him right then.

“I did my duty. No more, no less,” Kahlan said in a low voice, “I shall give you a child but everything else…”

There was a pause, where the air seemed to thicken with Kahlan’s anger.

“…belongs to Richard Cypher. I belong to Richard Cypher.”

V

Her admission gained her a week with Mord’Sith Constance. Every call for Richard gained her another touch of the agiel. But it also strengthened her resolve, she would be there for him. She would provide him with the Confessor. She would bring him home to her, or she would die without him.

Six months after the marriage, Kahlan found herself with Constance. Constance would kill her and spit on her corpse if it would please Darken Rahl.

Rahl himself had come to watch Kahlan’s screams, “There is a dinner we must attend.” He told her pleasantly.

Kahlan nodded, defiance still in her expression, “Of course, Lord Rahl.”

Constance raised her agiel to press it to Kahlan’s stomach when Kahlan cried out, “No!”

Rahl raised his hand for Constance to stop. She did so immediately. Rahl made his way to stand in front of Kahlan, when he reached her, he dropped to his knees. His palms laid flat out on her stomach, he spoke reverently, “Hello my child.”

VI

Swollen with child, Kahlan knew what she had to do. She herself would not live long enough to tell Richard what he needed to know to get home. She also knew she could not put her daughter in the position of hiding from her father. Kahlan would protect both Richard and her daughter with all she had. It was this day she enlisted the only help she knew she could trust.

“Stay alive. Do what you have to, to stay alive,” Kahlan said with conviction

The birth had not been easy, people flustered around Kahlan, telling her to breathe when that was all she could do. Rahl remained perched at the end of Kahlan’s bed, watching over the proceedings. As if she would magically not produce a child at all.

Kahlan closed her eyes and pretended she could see the forest, smell the grass for miles and hear only Richard’s voice.

She only opened her eyes when she heard the baby cry, “A son, my Lord,” Someone said.

“No!” Kahlan shouted, “Give me the child. It must be killed.”

Rahl looked at her like she was mad, Kahlan pleaded for a moment, “Give me the child, I can give you another child. A daughter who can control her power.”

He offered her, her son to hold but she refused him until she heard more infant cries and Rahl handed him to her.

Kahlan had a duty that she could not be purged from. She only hoped her son could learn from her and carry on the mission she set out from the moment she lost Richard.

VII

It wasn’t until years later Kahlan realised that even her own child could not be tamed. He had been as all male confessors had been. Uncontrollable and unforgiving in their use of their power.

She did the only thing she could do, she had to end her son’s life. For the sake of the world, not just her own world.

In doing so, she had signed her own death warrant. She had come to expect and accept it, so when her life finally slipped away from her, she said a prayer for Richard on her lips before she went to meet him in the underworld. Whenever that may be.

*

VIII (Bonus)

Here lies Her Majesty Kahlan Rahl.
Devoted wife and mother.
Beloved by all.

Richard could barely contain the sob that broke from his chest. It was like it was rung from his soul. But for Kahlan, he knew it must have been.

Cara stood quietly by him as he stroked the stone image of Kahlan.

It was with this resolve that Richard knew that whatever Kahlan had been through, to have married Rahl, he would find his way back to her. He would save her from this. He would stop this nightmare before it had even started because he owed it to her, because he couldn’t bear to be parted from her.

Because she was his destiny.

Fin.

Supernatural: A decision made, a life saved. [1/1]

Wed, 03 Jun 2009 16:28:50 GMT

Title: A decision made, a life saved. [1/1]
Author: Rae
Rating: PG (For swearing)
Characters/Pairings: Dean, Castiel; Dean/Castiel.
Warnings/Spoilers: Future fic set after Season 5. Mentions of entire series and 4x22.
Disclaimer: Eric Kripke & The CW own the rights to Supernatural and all of it’s characters. This is a piece of non-profit fiction for fun. That is all.
Summary: Castiel has to make a choice, save Dean and damn himself or let Dean die and suffer the consequences.
Author Notes: First fic in a long time, it was harder than getting back on a horse but I hope you like it.
Word Count: 1,000ish.

***

Dean’s soul is in tatters. Gripped, ripped and torn to shreds, everything that made him Dean Winchester is all but a memory in those who knew him.

Castiel burns at the thought, the truth of it, as he watches over Dean as he sleeps. “Dean,” falls from his lips with ease but doubt weighs heavy on Castiel when Dean doesn’t even grunt. Silent as death, Dean has only hours left before his body dies along with his battered mind.

He knows what he has to do. In the core of his very being is a light, so bright even he dared not look at it; his grace. Pure unadulterated life, untainted by the world around him. Life, he could give to Dean but at a price. He would fall and become human, unable to serve his father and turned away from his brothers and sisters.

Dean had once said to him that this was something worth fighting for. For brothers, for friends, for love. Castiel needs Dean’s clarity of self to guide him in his choice. He needs the man Dean has become and has always been.

And his choice has been made, just because he needs Dean.

***

Dean grunts as he wakes, his heart his heavy in his chest and his mind fuzzy, he looks around him and cocks an eyebrow.

“Sam?” Dean ventures but no answer. Swinging his feet to the side of the bed, Dean notices a figure on his motel room floor. His heart lurches in his chest, “Cas?”

The angel is laying on his back, blood pooling at his sides, a cut so long and so deep on his torso Dean doesn’t think it’ll ever heal.

“Cas! Castiel!” Dean shouts but eyes so wide, so blue tell him the truth. Castiel is gone, dead.

“You have such beautiful wings Dean.” A voice tells him. Dean turns, his hand going up to shield his face. An angel stands in front of him, so bright, so pure, Dean waits for his eyes to burn out.

But nothing happens, Dean blinks and the angel reaches out to him, a small smile playing out on his lips. Dean jerks back, “What happened to Castiel? What did you bastards do to him?”

“I am Castiel,” The angel tells him. Dean doesn’t see anything he recognises, no perpetually messed up hair, no holy tax accountant outfit and definitely not those blue eyes. All Dean can really see is gold, shining glimmering gold that covers the angel.

“Oh yeah, well I’m not playing,” Dean replies gruffly when he feels his back twitch. Only it isn’t his back, it’s like something is attached to him but weighs nothing. What had he said? You have such beautiful wings…

The angel steps forward again, “It’s okay, it takes time to get used to them.”

“You sonofabitch, what did you do to me?!” Dean rages, but his back strains as his wings open and flap against his sides.

Hands clamp on Dean’s face, lips inches from his own, “It’s me, Dean.”

Dean looks into the eyes of the angel and instead of gold, he can see blue. Bright, oceanic blue. Slowly the angel morphs into the guise of the human he had once possessed. Dean relaxes and his wings seem to understand, folding back on themselves.

Lips press against Dean’s own and feeling not entirely his own, seeps into his body; want, need, love. Dean grips Cas’ shoulders, unsure whether to continue or to push him away. Castiel pulls away first, “I had to save you. This was the only way I knew how.”
“By making me one of you?” Dean almost spits out. Castiel doesn’t flinch but his eyes flicker.

“I gave you my grace.” Castiel says before he turns away. Dean’s eyes widen at the mention of grace. “I knew it could bring life to anything or anyone. You were dying Dean. In the worse way possible, the complete and utter desolation of your soul.”

Dean doesn’t think he’s ever heard Castiel say so much in one breath. “Why?” Stumbles out of Dean’s mouth before he can stop it.

“Why do we do anything?” Castiel replies as he turns back.

The blue of his eyes burns like an open flame, just like it always had before. Dean avoided Castiel’s question with one of his own, “But if you gave me your grace, you should be human. But you‘re still -” Dean gestured to Castiel’s form.

“The Lord works in mysterious ways,” Castiel remarks.

“God? God did this?” Dean asks incredulously.

“He rewards loyal service,” Castiel tilts his head in that infuriating way that makes Dean want to straighten him out. “But He also rewards sacrifice.”

“He made us both angels for what? The funnies?” Dean knows why God has done this. He knows what God would have seen in him, the emotion, the need of the angel in front of him.

“Dean.” It sounds like benediction from Castiel’s mouth. A one worded prayer to his God to bless whatever Castiel is about to do to him. It‘s a few moments before Castiel speaks again, “Dean Winchester is saved. The world is saved.”

Dean blinks, was this the plan? Was he always mean to be an angel? The questions fall away when Dean looks at Castiel. They sent him the only angel who could be both; human and angel, the only one who could have understood him, or tried to, the only one who would have made the same stupid sacrifice to save him that Dean did two years ago for Sam.

Why? Because they were exactly the same. Only now, God had evened the playing field.

Grey's Anatomy: This is the world we live in. [1/1]

Sun, 10 May 2009 17:58:53 GMT

Title: This is the world we live in. [1/1]
Author: Rae
Rating: Gen.
Characters/Pairings: Lexie, Mark, Meredith & Molly; Mark/Lexie.
Warnings/Spoilers: Set in AU, possible future land.
Summary: I am not Meredith Grey. I am not dark and twisty. But I am a liar, I lie to myself all the time. I am not Meredith Grey. I am not dark and twisty.
Author Notes:
Word Count: 943

I am not Meredith Grey. I am not dark and twisty. But I am a liar, I lie to myself all the time. I am not Meredith Grey. I am not dark and twisty.

&

“Lex?” Molly calls to me. Baby niece in my arms, I turned back to my sister. “Mol?”

“You’ve been quiet all day, are you sure you’re fine with everything?”

Fine with what? Taking care of our drunk father everyday of the week and then some while you live happily ever after. “Yeah, I’m just grumpy is all, work is tough.” I nodded and smiled.

“You should try and snag more time off, you know,” Molly took the baby from me and coos contently at her daughter.

“Mol, I’m an intern, I have to be there otherwise I could fall behind.” I sigh, picking up a cookie from the plate. Sitting in my sister’s kitchen, I realised how much I missed home. The real kind where mom made soup and stroked back my hair when I was sad.

“And Meredith?” Molly asked tentatively. I shrugged, Molly had met Meredith but had been completely unaware of Meredith’s tenuous connection to what had been a happy family.

“Meredith’s a resident. Meaning she’s my boss and can take days off,” I nibble at the side of the cookie.

“But she doesn’t take days off?”

“I don’t see why, hospital has everything she wants.” I finally just shove the cookie into my mouth and chew quickly. Molly wouldn’t notice and she wouldn’t ask.

“How can a hospital be everything a person wants?”

&

Meredith is staring at me while I eat some chips. It’s pre-rounds, I’m not doing anything wrong but I get the urge to put the packet back in my locker.

“Are you feeling okay, Lexie?” She askes me.

“Hungry,” I say as I swallow a mouthful.

Meredith doesn’t seem convinced. How is it my half sister, who wanted nothing to do with me, can see through something my own full blooded sister couldn’t? “Well, okay,” Meredith gives, “Just make sure to leave them in your locker for rounds.”

Following behind Meredith and Cristina, the other interns and I blink at the carnage. Two cars collided, nothing major but the patients, the people --

“Grey, move!” Someone shoves me. I do move, I move over, and away, turning my back on the pit. I can hear Meredith calling me but it just doesn’t reach me.

I find myself back in the changing rooms, eating potato chips and some sort of chocolate bar I left in there over a week ago. I hear footsteps and I shut the door quickly.

“What happened?” Meredith asks. I ignore her, wondering how long it is until I can leave.

“I just --” Nothing comes out. I look at Meredith and her eyes are filled with concern. “This isn’t supposed to be me, you know.”

“Lexie…”

“You’re the one whose broken, I’m just not.” I like that Meredith doesn’t flinch, she just looks down and then back at me.

“I was broken, Lexie. Now, now I’m just Meredith.” She leaves silently and I open my locker again, chips in hand.

&

“Little Grey,” Mark says before he reaches me. I’m sitting on a bench outside the hospital eating Oreos because there’s a hole I just can’t quite fill.

“I could use some peanut butter, or something.” I murmur as Mark sits down.

“I spoke to Meredith,” He says simply.

I eat another Oreo and Mark takes the packet from me, I look at him, I’m sure with a little girl lost look in my eyes. “I was eating those.”

“That, and everything at eye level.” Mark isn’t amused, he isn’t angry either. He just sounds tired. “Lex…”

I snatch back the bag and pull out another cookie, Mark sighs, “I know what today is, Lexie. I know why you’re doing this.”

I pretend to be ignorant of what Mark is telling me. He’s telling me it’s okay to be sad, it’s okay to be a little bit broken. Just today, just today I can be anything other than okay.

“I can’t. I mean I can but I can’t -” I ramble, mostly to myself. I can let Mark in, if I want to, but I’m still holding on to this like it’s the only thing that makes me whole.

His arm circles around my shoulders and his hand gently brushes back my hair, stroking it gently as my throat closes and swallowing gets harder. My grip loosens on the cookies and Mark pulls them the last bit out of my hand and chucks them in the trash behind us.

“It’s only been a year, Lexie, no one expects you to be okay,” Mark tells me as his hand stills on my hair.

“I’m okay,” I grip on to Mark’s jacket like it’s the only raft in a thunderstorm.

“Lex.”

I take a breath in, I’m not sure I can let this go. I look at Mark, his lips turned up in a half smile that he uses to comfort me. But his eyes are pleading with me, pleading with me to be honest. To get better, to be okay, for real.

“I’m not okay. I miss my mom. It’s been a year since she died and I can’t stop eating. I mean, it’s everything - including that questionable hot dog leftover from that baseball game we went to. She would know what to do. She’d know how to stop it.”

“The eating? Or the pain?”

That’s not a question I’m ready for. Not today. While I’m not Meredith Grey, I’m still a bit dark and twisty.

Supernatural: How you remind me [1/2]

Thu, 09 Apr 2009 01:09:39 GMT

Title: How you remind me [1/2]
Author: Rae.
Rating: R
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Dean; Sam/Dean
Warnings/Spoilers: Swearing and sexual situations. Set in Season 4, no spoilers if you‘ve been watching.
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to the CW and Eric Kripke and no profit is being made by the writing and/or distribution of this piece of fiction.
Summary: Dean gets possessed, Sam sees something maybe he shouldn’t have and it leads to all sorts of problems.
Author Notes: Written for ace_of_spades6's birthday. I was going to post it as a whole hun but I want to rewrite some parts in the second half to make it closer to your prompt. I promise you will have sexy tiemz.
Word Count: 2,500ish

If I had to, I would put myself right beside you, now tell me would you like that?
I don’t mind if you say this love is the last time. So now I‘ll ask you, do you like that?

Sam didn’t even see it coming, Dean’s fist clipped the side of his cheek knocking Sam sideways. On his knees, Sam tried to shake it off but Dean grabbed the back of Sam’s collar and yanked him backwards. Sam’s back hit the pool table, knocking it into the back wall, vaguely in the recess of his mind he could hear the bartender yelling at them both.

“Dean!” Sam yelled, blood coating his teeth, filling his mouth. But it was too late, Sam saw the flash of black in his brother’s eyes.

Possessed. Dean was fucking possessed.

Sam spat the blood in his mouth on to the floor and pulled himself up, blocking Dean’s next blow and landing a sharp jab to his gut.

“Everybody out!” Sam called, the bar’s patrons easily heard him as they all crowded around the fight. “It’s not safe, get out!”

Some moved, some didn’t.

“Oh come on Sammy, the humans?” Dean’s voice mocked him. “You can’t save everyone of ‘em.” Sam felt his whole world slow down as demon!Dean grabbed the nearest girl and snapped her neck. But the masses moved then, like screaming children, they ran for the door.

The demon possessing Dean stretched his arms out, staring at them intently, “Not bad you know, as far as bodies go. Your brother’s one the good ones.”

Sam’s stomach rolled when he saw the pleasure it clearly strived from Dean’s body. “Let him go and I’ll let you live,” Sam threatened.

It narrowed Dean’s eyes, “Let me live? You can’t kill me without killing him.”

Sam let out a bitter laugh, Ignorance is a bitch. “Yeah? Where the hell have you been?”

---

Sam had to make do with a pair of handcuffs from behind the counter of the bar and a piece of flimsy rope in a cupboard.

The demon struggled so much it caused Dean’s wrists to bleed. Sam couldn’t the usual route he normally used for demon questioning, he couldn’t risk the damaged it could cause to Dean, so he tried the direct approach.

“Who are you?” Sam asked roughly. “That’s even if you have a name.”

The demon looked up at him, blackness consuming the familiarity of Dean’s green eyes. “Why wouldn’t I have a name? Not that I‘m up to sharing or anything.”

“Uh huh,” Sam mock nodded at the demon, “Well, what‘s the plan then? Coming in here, a public place and trying to beat the shit out of me. What‘s the gain?”

“Sammy, I wasn’t trying, I was succeeding.” It laughed, low and throaty, “What makes you think I wasn’t getting what I wanted?”

Sam stuck out his chin defiantly, “What do you want?”

“You dead, only I don’t give a fuck about the bullshit everyone keeps on about. I want to take you out, end of.” Sam tried to ignore the coldness it brought to his brother’s face. It’s not Dean.

“Why not do it before?”

“Never had the chance.” It tilted Dean’s head, giving Sam a bored look.

“Why?”

“Why, why, why?” It laughed, “Because I was in hell before. Now that my little sister Lilith is breaking the seals, she’s letting even more of us out.”

Suddenly the wind was knocked out of Sam, “You’re lying.”

It twisted Dean’s mouth into a smile, “Aww, puppy gonna cry?”

Anger welled up in Sam, fast and hot, his hand connected with his brother’s face and his mind working in overdrive to rid himself of the thing in front of him.

To take a demon from a human’s body was to rip a conscious from it’s host, it took every part of Sam not to lose himself to the demon or to fall into Dean’s mind. It fought tooth and nail to stay inside Dean but Sam was stronger, he had practiced enough to be so. The black smoke and grunge poured from Dean’s mouth as Sam stumbled backwards. He shook his head, trying to clear it, he hadn’t made contact with the demon but with Dean. He had seen straight into his brother’s mind.

Dean blinked, green eyes unfocused on anything until he saw Sam, “Geez man, you look like ass.”

Sam looked for any reaction that could confirm his thoughts. Dean looked oblivious to everything around him so Sam balled his fist and punched his brother across the face.

---

Sam managed to get his shirt over his head before he succumbed to the pain that laced his ribs. Wincing, he poked one and it laced him with pain in protest. Dean appeared at the doorway, holding ice to his cheek where Sam had hit him.

“Bruised?” Dean asked hopefully.

“Cracked.” Sam replied. Dean nodded and walked into the room, Sam frowned as Dean approached him, “Man I told you they were cracked.”

“I know,” Dean said his hands going to Sam’s belt buckle.

“Whoa!” Sam jumped, jolting his ribs.

“Dude, there’s a bathtub and you’re getting in it,” Dean gestured with a thumb in the tub’s direction.

Sam nodded, he had every intention of having the warm water sooth his pain but he didn’t have any intention of his brother undressing him. “I know. I was getting in it. By myself.”

Dean’s hands stilled on the now loose belt, “Oh don’t be such a girl Sam, I’ve been dressing and undressing you since before you had those three chest hairs.” Dean smirked, “Maybe I should call you Samantha?”

“Fuck off,” Sam rolled his eyes and absently held onto Dean’s shoulder for support as Dean managed to get his jeans down to his ankles and didn’t say a word when Sam wobbled as he lifted each foot to let Dean get them fully off of him.

Sam stood awkwardly as Dean righted himself and gave him a once over, “I’m not touching those, I known where they’ve been.”

Sam looked at him silently for a moment before blushing scarlet when he realised Dean was talking about his underwear. Sam went to rub the back of his neck but he hissed as he tried to raise his arm.

“Oh Jesus,” Dean muttered low and to himself, “Turn around.”

“What?” Sam looked at him incredulously.

“You heard me, turn around.” Dean raised his eyebrows expectantly. Sam didn’t move, “Look, the quicker we do this the quicker you can wash your hair.”

Sam shook his head as Dean grinned. “You are so not funny.”

“I am. Cute as hell too.” Dean slid his fingers down the waistband of Sam’s underwear and pulled them down quickly.

“Oh Dean, you’re such a romantic,” Sam grunted as Dean lifted Sam’s leg without warning to unhook his underwear off his foot. Sam was completely taken aback when Dean slapped his bare behind.

“Watch whatcha saying there Sammy, I could leave you like this.” Dean drawled.

“Okay, we’re done now, so can you…” Sam made a shooing gesture but considering he couldn’t raise his hand above waist level, Dean was completely unaware. “Dean, come on. Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Dean looked at him, brows drawn in confusion, “Taking care of my little brother?”

“Yeah well your little brother is a grown man and would like his privacy,” Sam exhaled and Dean muttered to himself as he left.

Sam made sure the water was tepid, enough to soothe but not scald given his current condition but he would give anything just to be able to burn away the sight of Dean being possessed. Sam groaned in pain as he tried to get comfortable, his body too large for the motel’s tub.

“Hey Sam,” Dean said, walking back into the bathroom.

“Dean!” Sam said incredulously.

Dean stopped in his tracks, “Still naked huh.”

“Ya think?” Sam tried to cover at least some part of his body but it was useless, there was just too much of him.

“It’s been over an hour since you got in, I thought you might’ve drowned.” Sam noted the playful sarcasm, Dean was uncomfortable. He’s uncomfortable? He’s not butt naked.

“No, still alive,” Sam nodded but neither of them moved an inch. Sam swallowed, Dean was offering him a hand out of the tub. “Dean…?”

“Sammy,” Dean’s voice was hoarse, Sam couldn’t tell if it was because of emotion or desire. “I know you went digging around in my head.”

“I didn’t… it just happened,” Sam admitted.

Dean nodded, “And you wonder why I don’t want you doing this shit.”

“This shit? This shit saved your ass,” Sam said defiantly.

“It almost cost you yours, look at you Sam, you’re completely fucked.” Dean yelled. Sam shook his head, “You’d know.”

“What did you just say,” Dean looked at Sam with an anger that made him wonder if he was still possessed.

Sam pushed himself up, ignoring the pain and grabbed the towel that was waiting for him. Dean averted his eyes quickly but it wouldn’t do any good, the can was open now, “You want to know what I saw? I saw the summer before college. You’ve been thinking about it haven’t you?”

Dean brushed his fingers over his mouth and turned away, “No.”

“Yes, Dean.” Sam was tense, coiled like a spring like he would be for a hunt.

“No dammit!” Dean closed his eyes and Sam took advantage of it. Hands grabbed Dean’s face, holding him in place as Sam leaned forward and pressed his lips over Dean’s. That was it, just a dry press of lips, slowly Dean’s parted under Sam’s and Sam sighed into Dean’s open mouth. Soon Sam felt the flick of Dean’s tongue against his bottom lip but then there was nothing.

“Get dressed Sam.” Dean turned away from Sam, laying his palms flat against the wall opposite him.

Sam closed his eyes, his breath heavy, “No.”

Dean turned back to Sam, green eyes questioning him. “Don’t do this Sammy.”

Sam licked his lips out of habit more than anything but Dean let out a muffled curse and pushed Sam back against the wall behind him. Sam tried to ignore the pain, letting his fingers dig into the muscle of Dean’s biceps. Dean’s eyes seemed to be mesmerized by the rise and fall of Sam’s chest, slowly Dean raised his hand to Sam’s stomach, slowly brushing his hand down over it. Dean’s fingers caught the knot of the towel, loosening it and letting it fall.

---

Sam had been out drinking for the first time in a long time. Graduation had been…fun. Sam enjoyed the fact he had been there long enough to graduate the school. Plus, Alice Jenkins had said she hoped to see Sam there. It wasn’t that he was particularly interested in Alice but as the head cheerleader, she opened up a lot of doors and he promised Aaron that if she invited him, they’d go.

Of course she had and of course she had spent the whole night pressed against Sam’s side as he knocked back more beer that even Dean was accustomed to.

“Hey Sammy,” Alice had called to him in a husky whisper. It sounded wrong coming from her lips, Sam frowned and shook his head.

“Sorry ladies, but Sammy has to go home now,” A deeper voice came into Sam’s head, that’s better Sam noted. Sammy, rougher… more like Dean.

“Dean?” Sam looked up, his big brother’s face coming into view. Must be back from his hunting trip.

“Sam Winchester, you dog, head cheerleader?” Dean joked but Sam could tell he was uncomfortable.

Sam meant to say, “Hey Dean.” but it came out more like ‘hfmph dee’, Dean turned to him, eyes wary, “Jeez Sam, how much did you have to drink?”

Sam pushed himself up and landed on Dean, Dean held him up as they walked back to the impala. ‘It’s not that bad’ came out as a whole word as Dean propped Sam up on the hood of the car as he fished out his keys. Sam picked the keys out of Dean’s hand and waved them in the light then they slipped off his fingers onto the ground.

“Oh come on,” Dean groaned.

Sam smiled, “It’s fine.”

Dean shook his head until Sam pulled at Dean’s leather jacket lapel until they were face to face, “Sammy?”

“Love you, De.” Sam smiled happily.

“You’re drunk that’s why.” Dean laughed to himself.

“Whatever,” Sam replied before pressing his lips against Dean’s. Dean frozen immediately under him but Sam kept going, his hands spreading out under Dean’s jacket but over his body warmed t-shirt. Sam dragged his fingernails over Dean’s back, pulling him between his now spread thighs.

Dean pulled away from Sam, leaving him cold, Sam looked over at him bewildered. Dean shook his head, “We can’t.”

“Why not?” Sam looked at him like he really couldn’t understand why they couldn’t. Getting off, or rather falling off, the hood of the impala, Sam made his way to Dean, pulling him closer by the loopholes of his jeans.

“Sammy, don’t do this…”

---

“It’s different from your mind,” Sam admitted as he hooked his fingers on the loopholes of Dean’s jeans. “A lot more wrong and a lot less fun.”

Dean nodded his finger tracing circles on Sam’s back just like Sam did for him all those years ago, pressing an open mouthed kiss to Sam’s shoulder, just above a bruise. Sam slid Dean’s shirt up as far as his arms would allow, letting Dean do the rest as Sam licked the dip of Dean’s collarbone when he was finally rid of the shirt.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, Sam, you’re hurt,” Dean murmured, his breath fanning out of Sam’s already hot skin. Sam looked down at the wet patches his thighs were creating against the dark denim. Brushing his hands over the buttons, Sam deftly unbuttoned Dean’s jeans as if they were his own. Sam could feel Dean’s muscles tightening under his hands. Pushing them down over his hips, Sam tilted his head, “I…”

Dean’s hands went over Sam’s pushing them down far enough Dean could toe out of them and kick them behind him. “No chick flick moments,” Dean said heatedly, his lips pressed over Sam’s neck before licking and sucking at the skin.

“Yet you’re giving me a hickey,” Sam chuckled and pulled Dean back towards the bedroom part of their suite. “Who I am? You‘re high school girlfriend.”

Dean smirked, “Never had a girlfriend, I had a least three or four.”

Sam smiled as Dean closed his eyes and groaned as Sam slipped his hand underneath the band, but Dean grabbed Sam’s wrist, “Don’t. You’re too hurt.”

Sam knew Dean was right, he couldn’t bear any weight on his chest and could barely move, “Fine. You get a reprieve, a week. Then we‘re finishing this.”

TBC in Part Two

Smallville: You and I [1/1]

Wed, 01 Apr 2009 05:22:55 GMT

Title: You and I. [1/1]
Author: Rae
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Clark, Lois; Clark/Lois
Warnings/Spoilers: Set post Hex, minor spoilers.
Disclaimer: DC Comics/ The CW are the owners of these characters therein I am not and shall not be sued.
Summary: Lois fights a losing battle with her feelings for Clark.
Author Notes: I do love my add-ons don’t I? I just thought, wow this is a really Cloisy ep, let’s make it even more Cloisy. The title is from a Michael Buble song which I think is very Clark and Lois.
Word Count: 1,114

You and I

Sentimentality was a sappy unrepressed emotion that Lois didn’t usually give the time of day. But with a small framed, scrap of paper in her hand, Lois gave in. A lump may have even started to form in her throat as she turned away from Clark in more ways than one.

Packed away and leaving the Planet, Clark Kent, Lois realized was the source continued spiral into unfamiliarity. Everything about him sent Lois into a which way that she could barely pull herself out from in her visit to Star City.

One minute, you’re all yes Ma, yes Pa and the next you’re the most over confident guy I’ve ever met.

It was that confidence she couldn’t fight. The part of Clark that just focused on her like she was the only person in the room. It was as if that attention, that need, had created this part of Lois that couldn’t deny Clark anything. She sat secretly in fear everyday that he would find out and use it against her.

Many of the nights in Star City, Lois had tried to reconcile herself to the fact Clark would return to Lana and she would move on. Because Lois wasn’t Lana. She would never be like Lana either, not that she ever wanted to be but part of her did envy that calm that the other woman had. The calm, quiet knowledge Clark was hers.

Imagine her surprise when she returned to find Clark mending his heart for the final time. Finally, it was over between Clark and Lana and for one small, even slightly disturbing on Lois’ part, she was glad. Clark would grieve, but it would be over.

Even in light of that, she had told him to stick to the rules. The goddamn sentimental rules. Lois Lane in that moment felt selfish, selfish that she hoped Clark would disrespect her wishes as she had outlined them and come after her. But she gathered, good Clark, upstanding Clark was ruling Clark’s head at the moment.

Goddamn which way, Lois gritted as she hailed a cab, meeting the date she never wanted to have in the first place. Bottom lip between her teeth, Lois tried to stop the tears before they even formed. It was no use, she was under the Clark Kent influence.

“Lois! You forgot some of your…” Clark called but stopped.

Lois turned on her heel, “What is it Smallville?”

“Are you okay?” Clark took a tentative step forward but Lois shrugged it off.

“Yeah there was a wind going a minute ago, I guess I didn’t fair too well.” Lois gestured to her appearance which she guessed had become more dishevelled as she ran her fingers through her hair, trying to figure out how her life had changed

Clark nodded, it was obvious he didn’t believe her, but she didn’t need him to believe her, she just needed him to not ask the question. But whenever in her life, had Clark followed her prayers.

“What’s going on Lois?”

I’m in love with you! I hate you! Can’t you see all of this is killing me?! Lois rolled her eyes, “I’m waiting for a cab, it’s not rocket science.”

Another step, Clark was almost in the zone that sent Lois’ pulse through the roof and her mind into the final stages of Clark induced madness. Lois took a step back, distance restored.

“Lois..” Had her name always sounded like that? A slow drawn out plea from a curving mouth, a tender, concerned face. Clark held out his hand to her, palm facing upward just like he had at Chloe’s wedding and just like then it felt like a lot more than just a hand.

No. No Lois, don’t do it, every fibre of her being shouted. But her weakness revealed itself and her hand slipped into his with ease, like it was made to be there. A nearby siren wailed, the sound jolted Lois from her place on the curb as she almost fell backwards into oncoming traffic. Instead, Clark pulled quickly on her hand and turned his body so that Lois fell into his arms like a silent movie star when the hero saves the day.

With a gulp, Lois looked up to meet Clark’s eyes. There it was, the nail in the coffin, the sparkle that Clark got in his eyes when he looked at her now. Now that she was the only person in the room and by the intensity of this stare, she’d gather the world.

Would it be so bad to let Clark in? Her mind thought quickly but Lois slapped it down, Traitor.

“While I appreciate the save Smallville, you can let me go now.” Lois pointed out, breaking at least part of the spell that had descended on them.

Clark pulled her up with an ease that Lois noted but never pursued. This would be so much easier if he wasn’t so… Clark. Lois brushed down her blazer and skirt, cleaning it of imaginary dirt that she would have gotten on herself, had she fell when Clark brushed back a stray hair from behind her ear. Clearing her throat, Lois grabbed the papers from Clark’s hand and shoved them into her bag.

“Thanks!” Lois said, a little too cheerfully.

Clark smiled, Lois was dangerously aware of their proximity and how devastating Clark’s smile was, “I forgot to tell you…”

“What?” Lois cut him off, sooner this was over the sooner she could reassert herself. Tell herself who was boss.

“I missed you.”

“Missed,” Lois whispered, it was doubtful Clark could have heard her and he continued talking anyway.

“When I realised it wasn’t you. I missed you, missed my Lois.” Clark said with an honesty that Lois blinked at.

Okay, that… this, isn’t fair, Lois decided. She also decided she was going to share some of the confusion and butterflies that seemed to enjoy so much, turning her stomach upside down. Arm raised out, Clark seemed to slacken with disappointment, clear to him, she would ignore what he just said.

The car slowed and Lois opened the door, chucking her bag inside the back. Turning back to Clark, she leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him quickly, a hard brush of her mouth on his.

“I didn’t need a hex to know I missed you Smallville,” Lois stepped away and slid into the back of the cab.

All of Lois’ work keeping Clark out, thrown out in one fell swoop. Lois wanted to believe she was mad, that she would chastise herself for letting Clark behind enemy lines. But Lois Lane was a softie at heart and maybe just a bit sentimental.

Fin.

Smallville: Lost and Found [13/20]

Mon, 30 Mar 2009 15:35:52 GMT

Title: Lost and Found [13/20]
Author: Rae
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Clark, Lois, Chloe, Oliver, Lana and Kara; Clark/Lois.
Warnings/Spoilers: Set post 7x20 Arctic but other than that nope.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and I haven’t claimed to either.
Summary: Brainiac has an insidious plan to bring back Zod and just when Lois and Clark might be figuring out their relationship there’s another spanner in the works.
Author Notes: We’re almost at the crux of it guys! Or at least the bit I’m excited for. Thanks so much to you guys who reviewed the last chapter, you're truly epic. It was so nice to be welcomed back when I personally would have gone Terminator on my ass.
Word Count: 2,096

Previous chapters: |Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Destiny. A huge unknowable concept that left a perpetual bad taste in Clark’s mouth. Destined for greater things they all said, destined to be a hero they said. Clark knew better, there had to be a catch. But it wasn’t something he could risk when Lois’ life was in danger.

“Yes!” Clark said to the wind which abruptly ceased.

“It is done, Kal-El,” Jor-El intoned. The ice beneath Clark’s feet began to warm but did not melt. The ice even shifted, jostling Clark as it created a bed beneath Lois. Colour seeped into her cheeks and her breathing evened until Clark was satisfied she was fine.

“Training begins now my son.”

*

Lois frowned when she opened her eyes and tried to move, her body was stiff and it took her a moment to remember she was actually in the arctic.

“Clark?” Lois turned on to her side, expecting to see him. “Where’d you go?”

Standing, Lois rolled her shoulders, trying to get the circulation back in them. Lois turned around and Clark was sat, crossed legged and bare-chested in front of the main console of the Fortress.

“Little chilly for ice bathing Clark,” Lois forced a smile to cover her nervousness.

Clark didn’t seem to hear her, so Lois stepped forward, place her hand on his shoulder. Clark’s eyes flew open as he turned to look at her. Lois gasped, Clark’s usually warm blue-green eyes were the colour of an icy blue storm. Retracting her hand, Lois took a step back, “Clark?”

“Clark Kent no longer exists,” Clark intoned, much like the voice of Jor-El.

“What do you mean, Clark doesn’t exist? You’re right here,” Lois pointed to Clark but those eyes fixed her with an almost confused look.

“Clark Kent, son of Martha and Jonathan Kent, is a lie. A lie that is no longer needed.” Clark tilted his head and Lois shook hers.

“No, Clark is a person and you need to give him back right now.” Lois demanded.

“He existed to protect my true nature but I am ready now,” Clark turned rigidly to look at the console.

“Ready for what?”

“To fulfil my destiny.” A half smile almost touched Clark’s lips.

“Destiny,” Lois repeated, “Destined for what?”

“To become Kal-El, to embrace my Kryptonian heritage and defeat Brainiac,” Clark told her as he turned to face her again.

“And what happens to Clark?” Lois whispered, mostly to herself but of course Clark heard her.

“Lois Lane, he did this for you. He let go of his human attachments and comforts for you.” Tilting his head again, Clark seemingly couldn’t understand why she was so upset.

“Give him back.” Lois said, her voice toughening. “Give me back Clark. Now.”

“With the utmost respect Miss Lane, I am Clark.”

“No, you’re… you’re anything but Clark.” Lois took in a breath but as she did so, the world begun to swirl around her and change in all respects until she was back on the Kent farm in front of Chloe and Lana.

“Lois, hey, are you alright? One minute you were there and then you’re gone.” Chloe said as she hugged Lois, Lana looked tentatively on. “Wait, where’s Clark?”

“Clark’s gone,” Lois said wearily.

“Gone?” Lana said quietly.

“Apparently he wasn’t needed for Kal-El’s destiny,” Lois walked over to the couch and flopped down on it.

“Kal-El’s destiny?” Chloe bit her lip as Lois turned her head, “Know anything about that?”

Chloe shook her head, “It’s a bit of a dark cloud.”

“Dark cloud? Try the mother of all insidious nimbus clouds.” Lois folded her arms and Lana made her way around Chloe to stand in front of Lois.

“Lois, there has to be a way to get Clark back,” Lana said as she looked Lois straight in the eye.

“Yeah, well, nobody read me the rulebook on when Clark decides to go Jekyll and Hyde on us.” Lois sighed.

Chloe spoke up again, “Lois, did Clark say anything about what he had to do? What his destiny was?”

Lois nodded, “Actually, he did say it was to become Kal-El and defeat Brainiac. What? You think mission accomplished and poof, Clark comes back?”

Chloe frowned, “I doubt it, but he’ll be easier to deal with once he’s defeated Brainiac. I better call Oliver, he needs to know what’s going on.”

*

Clark was already there when Chloe called, Oliver looked on as Clark unhooked Kara from the various machines and lifted her easily in his arms.

“Clark, the exposure could kill you,” Oliver told him but Clark ignored him.

“Thank you, you have been very helpful.”

Oliver stared at him in disbelief, “Sure, whatever. Clark, are you feeling okay?”

“I feel fine,” Clark turned away from Oliver and super-sped away.

*

Star labs was Metropolis’ own corner of the scientific research sky, specifically with it’s own nuclear reactor. Clark ignored the calls that tried to stop him, knocking back the few security guards who stood in front of him.

Kara stirred in his arms, “Clark?”

“Soon you will be well,” Clark’s eyes flickered down to Kara but then focused back on their path.

“What, what happened?” Kara murmured.

Clark laid Kara down on the ground while he opened the steel door that contained the reactor. Even on opening, Kara flinched, her skin turning hot as the energy burned through the Kryptonite in her system. Clark scooped her up again, taking Kara into the room and holding her as she screamed.

*

Kara stood up for the first time in days, stretching her arms before she looked back at her cousin, “Thanks.” She said quickly but Clark was staring out through a large window behind them.

“Clark…”

“Kal-El.” Clark corrected.

Kara frowned, “You said to call you Clark.”

“That’s not my name,” Clark replied, turning to face Kara.

Kara blinked, noticing Clark’s eyes. “You look just like Uncle.”

“Father has given me the gifts I need to stop the Brain Interactive Construct,” Clark told her as they began to walk.

“Look, Kal that’s great but that’s not you,” Kara put her hand on Clark’s forearm, stopping him.

Clark tilted his head again, “I am what I need to be.”

“Uh huh, what’s that? Devoid of humanity?” Kara looked hard at Clark and he didn’t even flinch.

“Humanity is a weakness in the eyes of the Construct,” Clark told her as if he was telling a small child, “I give him no opportunity to weaken me.”

“Kal-El, you may just find you need your humanity more than you realise,” Kara warned before she took flight.

*

Lois sat on Clark’s bed, her hands full of one of Clark’s plaid shirts. Kara stood with her shoulder leaning against the doorframe, “Hey.”

“Kara!” Lois jumped up to hug the blonde, Kara stiffened at first but then wrapped her arms around Lois. “Lemme guess, GI Clark saved you?”

Kara frowned, “If you mean Kal-El, yes.”

“Kal-El, now there’s a name you don’t hear everyday,” Lois smiled nervously.

“Yes.” Kara bit her lip, “Lois…”

Lois sighed and sat back down, “This is going to be bad isn’t it?”

Kara nodded slowly but not to agree with Lois, “You have to understand there are no Kryptonians like Clark.”

“I don’t understand, you’re Kryptonian,” Lois pointed out.

“I am but I was raised on Kryptonian by my biological parents, Kal-El wasn’t,” Kara sat down next to Lois, both of them watching a fixed point on the floor. “As a race, we have rights of passage, one of those is to be sent to Earth. It’s meant so that we can learn and understand the emotions you all convey so freely.”

“But Clark has lived here his whole life,” Lois agreed.

Kara stood up again and walked over to the window, “Clark Kent has all the emotions of a human but none of uniqueness of his Kryptonian heritage, and in the face of someone from Kryptonian, it is either his greatest strength or his greatest weakness.”

“So what? Jor-El just bops Clark on the head and takes away his ‘weakness’?” Lois felt angry now, angry that what had made Clark special had been the reason he was changed.

“Lois,” Kara paused as if she was trying to find the right words, “His weakness is not his humanity but his disdain of his heritage. Because of it he will never be human, never normal. And without fully accepting himself, he cannot use all the abilities he possesses.”

“All the abilities? The ones Clark has now are pretty useful,” Lois shook her head, “This is ridiculous. All of it. Just give Clark back.”

Kara’s eyes were wet when she turned back to Lois, “Only Clark can decide if he wants to come home.”

*

Lois had been storming around in the barn since her talk with Kara. Every now and then she would pick up something that would remind her of Clark, then throw it to the ground.

“What you feel is anger,” Clark said simply as he stood on the stairs leading up to the loft.

Lois’ mouth tightened into a thin line, “Really, you got all that from me stomping around, throwing things?”

“Yes.”

Lois threw up her hands, frustrated, “What are you even doing here? Shouldn’t you be off fulfilling your destiny or something.”

“There is more to my destiny that destruction Miss Lane,” Clark said in what Lois could only call a ‘happy’ tone.

“Lois.” Lois said, facing off against Clark. Arms folded in front of him, Clark had never looked larger or more imposing, “My name is Lois!”

“Yes, Lois Lane, born 1986 to Ella and Samuel Lane…” Clark reeled but Lois grabbed his arms, “No, Clark. Lois, just Lois.”

Clark leaned his head to the side in that infuriating way that had Lois blowing steam out of her ears, “Lois.”

Lois smiled and nodded, “Right, now you. You’re Clark.”

Clark pulled away abruptly, “I am Kal-El, the last son of Krypton.”

“Okay, Clark, I get that you needed more superpowers when Kara was sick but she’s better now and she can help you.”

Clark shook his head, “Kara cannot interfere with my destiny.”

“I don’t believe in destiny, or fate. It’s just crap. Crap that has turned you into nothing more than a foot soilder,” Lois couldn’t hide the disappointment in her voice.

“You may not believe, Lois. But there are things I must do.” Clark said evenly.

“Then why?” Lois sighed, her body tired from fighting.

“I do not understand.”

“Why the hell are you standing here? If your destiny is so much bigger than the rest of us,” Lois’ anger was palpable, it was one thing to lose Clark to a bizarre slight of Kryptonian nature but to have it shoved in her face was another thing.

Clark’s eyes flashed from their unusual ice blue back to their normal blue-green warmth. Lois saw it and she didn’t let go, “In week I’ve seen my cousin kidnapped, yours poisoned within and inch of her life, you in a smack down fight with a computer and you turned into the Kryptonian tourist information desk. I stood by your side through all of it. So tell me Kal-El of Krypton, why are you still bothering with us humans?”

With eyes still so familiar, Clark pulled Lois to him with a hand around the back of her neck. Even as Clark’s lips crashed over Lois’, Lois tried to pull back but Clark kept her held to him with his other hand on her hip. Helpless against Clark’s strength, Lois let her hands wind around his neck as he lifted her up to his height. Lois could barely breathe but it didn’t stop her from matching Clark’s passion with her own, had Clark been able to bleed, he no doubt would of from the bites Lois was giving him.

After a long moment, Clark set Lois down. Flushed and unkempt Lois felt a sadness settle on her when she realised Clark’s eyes were ice blue again, his body tense and without emotion.

“Clark?”

“This was a mistake, I should not have come here,” Clark turned to leave.

Lois nodded numbly, her eyes filling with unshed tears, “Right…”

But as Clark made his way outside the barn, Lois could not see as he bent his knees and pushed, launching himself into the sky. Instead descending to the ground Clark held trajectory for two towns before he could fly no more.

A fate, a destiny; my soul’s born purpose which I knew.
But though I am promised, my soul I give to you.

Smallville: Waiting for a Harley [1/1]

Sat, 14 Mar 2009 19:13:32 GMT

Title: Waiting for a Harley. [1/1]
Author: Rae
Rating: G
Character/Pairings: Lois, Clark. Betty; Clark/Lois.
Warnings/Spoilers: Set post-Infamous and has a certain amount of Fluff.
Disclaimer: The CW/DC Comics claim ownership over the characters within and I do not.
Summary: Lois stayed at the coffee shop even after Clark didn’t meet her but that’s not to say she didn’t meet him.
Author Notes: I just to write what if Clark had done what he did and would Lois really let that go?
Word Count: 1,137

As soon as the text came through on her mobile Lois knew Clark wasn’t coming. Not one to be the sad, pitied party Lois quickly replied that she couldn’t make it. The coffee remained on the table and the people around her changed as Lois remained in her seat for what could only be deemed as hours.

A nice older woman came and sat in the chair beside Lois, “Now sweetie, what’s a pretty thing like you doing all by herself?”

Lois sighed momentarily before she replied, “I’m not having coffee with a friend.”

The woman looked down at her cup and frowned, “Well, I don’t see why not?”

Folding her arms, “Seeing as I’m here and he’s not.”

“Oh, it’s a he, is it?” The woman smiled knowingly and Lois felt slightly upturned by it.

“Yes, my best friend actually, for a long time,” Lois responded quickly, picking up her cup and holding it close. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

“But it was to you,” She smiled again, her hand reaching up to touch Lois’ hair, only Lois didn’t mind at all.

“Okay, so there may have been a moment where…” Lois swallowed nervously, “Where I, and he… we almost kissed.”

“You almost kissed your best friend of a very long time?”

Lois blinked and took a sip of her cold coffee before wincing, “You don’t understand. I never felt this way about him, not when I lived with him, not when he was overbearing and protective…”

“So what changed?” The woman signalled for the barista to bring another two cups for them. Lois frowned, “Look I appreciate…”

“Betty, my name’s Betty,” Betty said happily.

“Lois.” Lois replied, “As I was saying, I don’t think pouring my heart out…”

“Is just what you need sweetie,” Betty offered Lois one of the cookies on her plate. Lois bit her lip before picking up the cookie, Betty nodded approvingly, “You were telling me what changed between you and your friend.”

“Only nothing did. I don’t think, only he did. He stopped being farm boy Clark and… grew up,” Lois frowned again, “That came out wrong.”

“Lois honey, it seems to me that you’ve liked this…Clark for a lot longer than you realise, it just took him standing up and moving on for you to realise that.”

“I doubt it,” Lois mumbled.

Betty smiled and patted Lois’ hand, “As much as you’d like to think these feelings snuck up on you, they didn’t. They were just waiting, waiting for the right time.”

Lois could almost laugh and she did, a quick little giggle but Betty noticed, “What was that sweetie?”

“It’s just I told Clark once that he should put his feelings away in a piggy bank,” Betty looked confused so Lois explained, “He broke up with his girlfriend and was being totally Clark about it so I told him to save it all up for the right time. Like saving for a bike.”

Betty nodded, “And Clark is… a bike?”

Lois smiled, “No, Clark isn’t a bike. Clark’s a Harley.”

Betty smiled too, “I should think so with all those muscles.”

Lois snapped back, “What?”

“Clark, rather tall, nice spoken young man?” Betty said as she sipped her coffee, “Beautiful blue eyes, mind you.”

“Wait, how do you know about Clark?” Lois felt spun as she bit into another cookie.

“I walked past him on my way here, he looked ever so forlorn staring at you,” Betty sipped her coffee again and Lois finished her cookie. “He was rather helpful, when I asked him to help me across the street.”

“You mean Clark was here?” Lois realised she had run out of cookies and motioned for someone to bring her more. “But why didn’t he come over? Why did he lie?”

Betty shrugged, “Probably the same reason you’re still sitting here.”

Lois frowned, she was still sitting here, had been for hours. She could have gone to the Planet, called Clark on why he didn’t show. “I promised it wouldn’t be a big deal, if he came or not.”

“Honey, you seem like a girl with fight in her, one who wouldn’t let her ‘Harley’ pass her by so why did you? Honestly?” Betty’s warm eyes focused on Lois and she could only think of one word. Fear.

“I was scared,” Lois admitted, “Scared if he didn’t come and scared if he did and when he didn‘t come…”

“He made the decision for you,” Betty nodded picking up a cookie.

“Betty…” Lois pulled out her purse and laid down a twenty.

Betty picked it up, “Oh no, your money’s no good here Lois. Just go get your man.”

Not once in her life had Lois let anyone make a decision for her, not her father when he tried to force her into boarding school, not when Chloe thought Lois might not be ready for journalism and certainly not when it came to her heart.

Dialling the familiar numbers in her cell, Lois called Clark, “Hey Smallville, still at work? Yeah, stay where you are. I’m gonna meet you there.”

***

Lois pulled out the twenty Betty had refused and handed it to the taxi driver, “Thanks.”

Clark was leaning back against his chair when Lois made it into the bullpen. He looked terrible, Lois noticed with a sadness, his hair was rumbled from putting his fingers through it too many times and his eyes lost their natural light that always made Lois smile. “Clark.”

“Lois? What’s the emergency?” Clark fiddled with a pencil in one hand.

“Coffee,” Lois handed him a to-go cup from the café, compliments of Betty. “From Betty.”

“Who?” Clark frowned, as Lois watched him mentally go through the wait staff.

“Oh a lady you helped across the street,” Lois filled in and Clark’s eyes went wide. “Why didn’t you come over Clark?”

“Lois…”

“No, don’t Lois me. If you were there you knew I was…” Lois felt a lump form in her throat. Oh god, there it was, along with the fear, the hope. The hope she could have something more with Clark.

“I wanted to,” Clark’s voice was quiet, like when he brooded alone in his loft.

“Then why?”

“Because I was…I was afraid.” Clark admitted and Lois suddenly felt like a weight was lifted from her shoulders.

“Fine,” Lois said with a smile, Clark looked at her bewildered.

“Fine? Lois, are you feeling alright?”

“Oh I’m fine, Clark. Better drink the coffee before it gets cold,” Lois said as she walked back to the doors, Clark was still frowning when she turned back from the elevator.

He was afraid, just like she was. He felt something, just like she did. So Lois smiled and was fine because she could wait, she would wait until Clark was ready because he was her Harley.

Smallville: Lost and Found [12/20]

Mon, 02 Mar 2009 10:29:56 GMT

Title: Lost and Found [12/20]
Author: Rae
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Clark, Lois, Chloe, Oliver, Lana and Kara; Clark/Lois.
Warnings/Spoilers: Set post 7x20 Arctic but other than that nope.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and I haven’t claimed to either.
Summary: Brainiac has an insidious plan to bring back Zod and just when Lois and Clark might be figuring out their relationship there’s another spanner in the works.
Author Notes: It’s been months since I’ve updated, I know. But I was having a road block in which I knew where I wanted to go I just couldn’t get there. So posting should resume now that we’re past that.
Word Count: 2,058

Previous chapters Over here at FF.net

Chapter 12

Clark sat fingers laced, almost hunched over his knees. Kara’s skin was mottled with bruises where the doctors had attempted to put new intravenous lines in. Her natural tan was flushed out leaving only a pale complexion instead. She looked an inch from death.

“Clark?” Oliver called, looking up from a clipboard, “What are you doing here?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” Clark said, standing.

“Trying more treatments for Kara. She’s tough, hanging in with the best of ‘em.”

“The big picture sounded so much better when I actually thought I could fix things.” Clark rubbed his eyes, suddenly very tired.

“Clark…”

“What? How many times have we had this conversation and we’re nowhere near saving Kara.”

“…and the subtext here is?” Oliver frowned as Clark paced the room.

Clark didn’t say anything but Oliver took a shot in the dark, “You and Lois have a fight?”

“I just can’t fight with her right now. I’m just so tired of fighting.” Clark admitted, “It’s never going to be over is it?”

Oliver didn’t have an answer that would satisfy Clark but he tried anyway, “No, it’s not. But that’s not why we do it. We fight because it’s the right thing to do.”

“Yeah which is easier when you know you’re going to win,” Clark rubbed his eyes again as if to clear them.

“Never took you for a winning guy Clark,” Oliver said honestly, “Figured you for a ‘let’s save the kittens’ type.”

Clark’s lips didn’t even raise to a smile, “Find me a solution Queen and do it soon.”

“Clark?” Oliver frowned as Clark stood and super-sped away.

***

Sitting down on the old brow beaten sofa in the barn, Lois let out a breath as she tried to figure out what hole she had just dug herself into.

“Not going well I see?” Lois blinked and looked up, Chloe stood by the stairs, half smiling at her.

“Don’t start using your freaky mind powers on me Sullivan,” Lois half joked but her heart wasn’t in it.

“Well, you tend to shout when you’re in a fight or in hysterics.” Chloe shrugged and Lois glared, “I was not in hysterics.”

“Okay, freaking out to the power of 10,” Chloe fiddle with the edge of her jacket before proceeding, “Look Lois, Clark carries a lot of blame around, some warranted and some blown way out of proportion.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Lois sighed, “It’s just he doesn’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“How many things could go wrong and none of them have anything to do with him being an alien,” Lois stood up and walked over to the hatch where the moonlight flooded the barn floor.

“Jeez, sue Clark for being an optimist,” Chloe said incredulously.

Lois shook her head, “Chlo…”

“Lois, you like Clark, he likes you. It’s not much harder than that, he’ll cool off, you’ll make up and it’ll be fine.” Chloe smiled but Lois didn’t share it.

“But that’s just it, the world isn’t just black and white, right and wrong, there’s grey area,” Lois said, exasperated.

Another set of footsteps broke the silence that fell between Lois and Chloe, Clark came up the barn stairs looking worse for wear. Chloe looked like she was about to rush to his side but he stopped her, “I just need to talk to Lois.”

Chloe nodded, “Okay, I’ll see you both inside.”

Lois stood with her arms folded, awkwardly on her heels. “Clark…”

Clark collapsed on the couch Lois had previously been sitting on, Lois rushed to Clark’s side, “Clark? Clark?!”

Lois noticed there was a greenish tinge to his normally tan skin, making it look paler than she had ever seen it. “Smallville! What’s happening?”

Clark flopped in Lois’ arms, “Chloe! HELP! Somebody!”

***

Chloe placed her hand on Lois shoulder as she held on to Clark’s, “He’s going to be fine, Lo.”

“Fine? How?” Lois said bitterly.

“He was just suffering from excess exposure to green Kryptonite from visiting Kara, a little sun and he’ll be Clark again in no time,” Chloe explained.

“And Kara? How is she going to be fine? She‘s in a worse condition than Clark with no way out,” Lois shook her head, “It’s like we’re waiting for one of them to drop dead before we do anything!”

“Lois, it’s not like that,” Chloe tried to reassure her, “Kara’s case is very difficult because she’s not human, human treatments don’t apply to her.”

“Then do better,” Lois looked at back at Chloe, her eyes clearly tired, her hair rumpled three ways from Sunday, “We can’t lose them.”

Chloe murmured something about coffee and left Lois with Clark, Lois brushed back his hair and sighed. “I don’t know how to do this Clark, I don’t have any answers. They say the Sun can fix you but… I just…”

Lois bit her lip as tears slid down her cheeks, “Please don’t die, Smallville.”

Fingers twitched against her own, Lois wiped her eyes and called, “Clark?”

“Mfmph,” Clark mumbled and Lois laughed, “Right, yeah.”

But fingers squeezed hers and Lois held tight and watched until she fell asleep against Clark’s side.

***

Clark woke up, feeling rested and better than he had in a while, though the Sun was glaring down on him almost blinding him he could find no reason wrong with it. Shifting slightly he noticed his arm was trapped under Lois who was sleeping by his side. Her face was tracked with black, telling him she had been crying but she slept peacefully next to him.

Lana knocked on the door, Clark looked up, “Hey Clark, how are you feeling?”

Clark used his free hand to run through his hair, “Fine, why?”

Lana looked at him with a slightly shocked look on her face, “Clark, you’ve been a sleep for 15 hours because of Kryptonite poisoning.”

“Lois?”

“Has been watching over you,” Lana put down the cup Clark just noticed she brought.

“And you’ve been watching over her,” Clark smiled, “Thanks Lana.”

“We would have taken turns but Lois has a death grip,” Lana returned Clark’s smile, “Hungry?”

“Yeah, just give me a minute,” Clark gestured to Lois’ sleeping form and Lana nodded, leaving them to go back to whatever she was doing.

“Lois?”

Lois didn’t wake but rubbed her nose instead, Clark tried to slide his arm out from under her but she held on to it tighter than he would have imagined. “Lois.”

Shifting so that he was leaning over her, one arm under her and one over her on the opposite side, Clark tried again to get her to release his arm. Lois opened her eyes and shouted, “Clark!” Accidentally knocking the arm that currently held him up, he fell on top of her. Rolling quickly, Lois ended up on top of Clark.

“Morning Lois.” Clark said as he tried to hold in a laugh. Lois swatted his shoulder and got up, “Nice to see you’re still alive Smallville.”

“Why were you worried about me?” Clark sat up and Lois eyed him as if she were expecting him to collapse again.

“What if I was, you did look like Death was about ready for your number,” Lois pointed out and she brushed her hand over her cheeks, wiping her mascara across them, she groaned as she noticed.

“I think it’s cute you’re worried,” Clark smirked as Lois glared.

“Can it Smallville,” Lois grumbled as she headed for the bathroom. Clark chuckled as he headed downstairs for breakfast.

***

Not dead, Clark’s not dead, Lois sighed with relief. She noted with pleasure that his skin had returned to normal colour and he was, you know, conscious. Lois groaned disapprovingly when she saw what a mess her hair had become and how wrecked her face looked. I look like I went swimming in it.

Trying to tame her hair, Lois started the water for her shower.

***

Chloe hugged Clark with an intensity that made Clark think how far gone he must have been to not remember it and have such reactions from his friends.

Lana cooked for everyone which Clark had only accepted under protest considering she had cooked yesterday also, “Lana, you can’t do all the work around here.”

To which she replied, “Well tomorrow, Lois can cook.”

Everyone fell silent after that. Clark shook his head as he fried toast, much to the amusement of Chloe who asked him to make patterns with his heat vision.

“Come on Clark, it’ll be fun! And educational,” Chloe raised her hand to her mouth to cover her smile.

“Educational? How is that educational?” Clark asked incredulously.

Chloe shrugged, “Helps maintain focus?”

Clark suddenly felt like that poor guy at the circus who made balloon animals. Lois walked into the kitchen brushing her wet hair back. “Focus what?”

“Clark’s heat vision.” Chloe said chewing a piece of toast.

“To do what?” Lois picked up a waffle and put it on a plate. Chloe snickered, Clark rolled his eyes and Lois looked at them with confusion.

Lana picked up a piece of toast and handed it to Lois, Lois raised an eyebrow, it had a burnt bird? Or was it a plane? In the center of the golden bread. Lois nodded, “Uh huh.”

“It’s not what it looks like…” Clark tried to explain.

“Oh come on? Are you telling me you were never this juvenile with your powers before?” Lois laughed, Clark shook his head. “No? Why not?”

“Because I can set things on fire. Meaning people.” Clark snatched the toast from Lois and thought about eating it to spite her.

Lois snatched it back biting off the corner, “Really? So what did you do when it first went off? Lock yourself in your room?”

Clark blushed heavily and all the girls looked at him curiously, “Different subject. Now.”

Lois was like a shark, she could smell blood in the water, “Ooo does Clarkie have a secret?”

Clark tilted his head, going toe to toe with Lois, “Bring it Lane.”

There was a gust of wind behind them, sending everything in the vicinity of the pair flying, “Okay Clark I’m sorry, now cut it out!” Lois shouted at him over the gale that was blowing up. Clark couldn’t see Chloe or Lana and could only hope that they were okay.

“It’s not me,” Clark pulled Lois to his chest trying to protect her when there was a flash of light.

***

Clark opened his eyes to the familiar sight of his Fortress. Lois shuddered next to him, her bare feet on the snow. Scooping her up, she offered him a grateful look.

“Where are we?” Lois asked as she looked around at the glittering icicles.

“My Fortress.” Clark took her over to the main panel, the hub of the Fortress, he checked it over but there was nothing untoward that would indicate why they had been brought here.

“Your Fortress? Wow,” Lois nudged at him to put her down, Clark frowned and did it anyway. “Lois you’ll catch a cold without shoes.”

“It’s not cold.” Lois told him as she picked up a pile of snow, the winds in the Fortress seemed to have lulled.

“My son,” Jor-El boomed, making Lois drop the snow she was holding. She looked at Clark, “Anyone you know?”

“Jor-El, what’s going on here?!” Clark shouted as the wind picked up again in the Fortress.

“The Brain Interactive Construct continues its quest to release Zod, you must stop and contain him,” Jor-El told him.

“I know that,” Clark blinked as even his eyes began to water.

“I brought you here because you’re weak, to defeat the Construct you must be more than you are.”

“What is he talking about?” Lois shouted, Clark could no longer see her but he blindly moved forward.

“Jor-El, stop this!” Clark yelled but the wind didn’t cease.

“You’re ability to overcome Brainiac will depend on what you are willing to give up to defeat him.”

Lois. “Let her go Jor-El! Lois isn’t a part of this.”

“The human is of no consequence in this instance Kal-El. This, this is down to you. Will you do what is necessary to save these people? Do you accept the burden that it becomes?”

When Clark finally reached Lois, she was passed out, her cheek pale against the snow. Her eyelids closed but her eyes twitched beneath them.

“Let her GO!” Clark bellowed.

“Do you accept your destiny Kal-El?”

Smallville: For lover100; Two's a company and three's a crowd

Fri, 27 Feb 2009 08:00:14 GMT

Title: Two is company, three’s a crowd.
Author: Rae
Rating: G
Fandom: Smallville
Characters/Pairings: Clark, Lois; Clark/Lois.
Warnings/Spoilers: No real spoilers but I like to think it’s set in 8x19.
Disclaimer: DC comics and The CW reserve all the rights to the characters mentioned within. This was written for fun and has not made any profit.
Summary: Lois hits a dead end, Clark realises Lois believes and they have Chinese food.
Author’s Note: Written for lover100; Prompt - 008 Resolutions with a little triangle for two in mind.
Word Count: 708

008 - Resolution

Hair tied up in a bun, Lois sat with a pencil between her teeth trying to figure out where she could go from there, dead ends swam before her eyes before she looked up at Clark, staring at her from across their desks.

“Clark?” Lois called, pencil laid on her desk forgotten. Clark seemed to shake himself out of his daze and he smiled sheepishly at her.

“What, puppies and small children not the stuff of your dreams Smallville?” Lois narrowed her eyes when she thought she heard Clark say ‘You have no idea.’ Lois offered, “Looks like we’re both about to burn the midnight oil. How about we grab something to eat first?”

Clark nodded and rolled his chair backwards, enough so he could grab his blazer off the back and slid it over his arms and onto his shoulders. “Chinese or Thai?”

Lois clicked her computer to log off and wrinkled her nose, “We’ve had Thai three times this week already.”

“But you said you hated the mien from that new place,” Clark pointed out as he clicked ‘G’ on the elevator.

Lois shrugged, “So I’ll have something else, like sizzling beef not everything has to be the same Smallville.” Clark’s eyebrows rose and Lois sighed, “Sorry, just this story’s got my back up.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Clark asked as he waited for Lois to get in before he got into the elevator behind her.

“Well, my source tells me that this is it, end of the road, but my gut is telling me he just wants me to believe that,” Lois looked up at Clark, waiting for his input.

“New angle?”

Lois got out of the elevator and nodded to Phil, the janitor as they passed him, but she remained unresponsive to his question.

Clark frowned, “Lois?”

“Hmm, yeah,” Lois mused as they got outside of the building and Clark stopped her, “Lois, what are you doing?”

“I’m going for Chinese, how about you?” Lois huffed, the cold bracing against the warmth of the Daily Planet.

“Lois,” Clark reprimanded.

“I knew you wouldn’t approve. You’re like the king of non-believers,” Lois continued down the street and Clark trailed behind her.

“This is about the Red-Blue Blur isn’t it.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

“So what if it is? I said I wanted the interview and I’m gonna get it.” Lois’ temper was flaring and Clark wouldn’t seem to let it go.

Clark shook his head, “Lois, it’s clear he doesn’t want to be found and you’re putting yourself in danger to get what? Nothing.”

Lois stopped and Clark hit her back and let out an ‘oomph’ behind her. “It could be any number of reasons this guy hasn’t made contact and I was never in danger because I can handle myself. As for it being nothing, that‘s a matter of opinion.”

“But clearly you think mine is wrong,” Clark folded his arms as Lois turned around, “Not wrong but jeez Clark, why can’t you just believe?”

“Believe what?”

“That there’s someone out there to help us, someone who cares whether people live or die in this goddamn city.” Lois let out a breath, “Who I am kidding? You’re probably right…”

Clark blinked in surprise, “Lois, I didn’t know you felt this strongly about…”

“I don’t!” Lois stopped him with her exclamation. But Clark wouldn’t be stopped, “You really believe this guy is here to do good.”

Lois bit her lip, “Is that so bad?”

Clark felt the overwhelming urge to hug Lois, to somehow protect her from everything she did and didn’t know.

“He saved my life Clark, twice. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t have faith?” Lois half smiled.

“Lois, you’re so…” Clark looked for the right word and smiled as it came to him, “Lois.”

“That I am and Lois is hungry,” Lois turned on her heel and continued for the restaurant.

“Hey Lo,”

“Yeah Clark,” Lois looked at him over her shoulder, coat wrapped up around her neck.

“Thanks.” Clark smiled to himself, if Lois could feel that way about the Red-Blue blur then maybe others could too.

“For what?” Lois looked at him with a look of confusion on her face.

You’ll see.

Grey's Anatomy: He'll never be the good guy [1/1]

Sun, 22 Feb 2009 07:35:48 GMT

Title: He’ll never be the good guy. [1/1]
Author: Rae
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Lexie, Mark, Addison, Callie; Mark/Lexie, implied past Mark/Addison.
Warnings/Spoilers: Fluff; Set in 5x16 but mostly AU and no real spoilers other than Addison being there.
Disclaimer: ABC/Shonda Rhimes reserve all rights and ownership of Grey’s Anatomy and it’s characters. I have not and will not claim these characters as my own.
Summary: What if Addison and Lexie ended up having a talk in episode 16? Would it affect Lexie’s relationship with Mark?
Author Notes: It was supposed to be a drabble! But alas it consumed me. It’s sort of open ended as I’m not sure if I want to continue this or not. Thoughts?
Word Count: 1,736

---

Lexie peered into Mark’s office, noting with disappointment that he wasn’t in there. Lexie chided herself, he wasn’t what she had come up here for. Hugging several patient charts to her chest, Lexie sighed with an almost longing at the nice clean desk in front of her. Approaching the leather chair Mark insisted on having with caution, Lexie sat down it and put the charts down in front of her. Picking up the first, Mr Nigel from 305 had a organ transplant and Lexie had landed the write up, along with 10 others.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door, Lexie ignored it but it persisted. A voice called into the room, “Mark?”

It was a woman, Lexie didn’t recognise the voice, looked from side to side for a way to make it seem less like she was trespassing.

“Mark, I really need to…”

Lexie bit her lip, the woman in front of her was beautiful, short red hair and bright blue eyes. Lexie forced herself to speak, “Dr Montgomery.”

Addison raised her eyebrows, the young intern, Lexie, was sitting behind Mark’s desk with a deer caught in headlights expression. “Dr Grey. Should I ask what you‘re doing in here?”

Lexie shuffled her papers, hands clearly shaking. Addison felt sorry for the girl, she was clearly afraid she was going to be yelled at… or exposed for her relationship with Mark.

“I, uh, needed a quiet place to do…” She held up the files in front of her, “charts.”

“And Dr Sloan doesn’t mind?” Addison walked forward and sat on the chair in front of Mark’s desk.

Lexie shook her head, “No, he doesn’t.”

Addison tilted her head, trying to understand what Mark would see in a girl like Lexie, she clearly wasn’t his type. Lexie was a sweet girl, with a good heart and Mark… was Mark. “Well, if you see him…”

“Of course Dr Montgomery,” Lexie looked down as Addison stood.

“Ask me,” Addison said quickly.

“Excuse me?” Lexie blinked, clearly jolted.

Addison smiled, “About Mark.”

To her credit, Lexie’s face didn’t change, “Why would I want to ask about Dr Sloan?”

Picking up the picture of Mark, herself and Derek, Addison looked at Lexie, “He brought you coffee.”

“Coffee.” Lexie nodded, “Well, I bring him coffee sometimes too. You know, ‘cause we’re friends.”

“You and Mark Sloan aren’t friends Lexie, you’re…”

“Anne Frank.” Lexie muttered.

Addison frowned, “Excuse me?”

“You’re not going to tell anyone are you?” Lexie asked her hopefully. Addison sighed, she was clearly too innocent for such…arrangements.

“No, I’m not but little Grey, tread carefully with Mark, he’s not the good guy. He’s not a bad guy, but he’s just not the good guy,” Addison returned the picture to its rightful place before turning to the door.

“Says the woman who cheated on her husband,” Addison stopped and turned back, Lexie continued, “With all due respect Dr Montgomery but you don’t know anything about Mark now, good, bad or otherwise and also… it’s Dr Grey, only Mark calls me little Grey.”

Addison smiled, “Maybe I don‘t. But remember neither do you, not really.”

Mark opened the door, his face falling, “Addie, what are you doing in my office?”

Addison was half turned to the door and Lexie was sitting at his desk wringing out a pen. Tension was rolling off Lexie in waves, Addison appeared to be calm.

“I was looking for you but found Dr Grey instead,” Addison replied.

“Uh huh, well you’ve found me, so let’s talk,” Taking a look at Lexie, Mark grabbed Addison’s arm, “Outside.”

Pulling Addison into the corridor, Mark glared at her, “What were you really doing in there Addison?”

“I just talked to her that’s all,” Addison shrugged, “Gotta say, kitten’s got claws.”

Mark looked back at the door with an intensity it could almost be possible for him to x-ray it, “So you must have said something to her…”

Addison looked at Mark, running his hand through his hair and she saw just how much he cared, “I told her being with you is probably not a good move.” Before Mark could answer Addison continued, “But I was firmly told to mind my own business.”

“Really?” Mark looked at her with what Addison thought was a twinge of hope in his eyes.

“She brought up what we did to Derek,” Addison folded her arms and Mark looked at her sharply. “When I say ‘we’ she meant me, as if you had nothing to do with it.”

Addison sighed, “Mark I tell you what I was trying to tell her, you two aren’t made for this.”

“Why?” Mark asked as he touched to door handle as if he was about to turn it, “Why aren’t we?”

“Mark…” Addison touched Mark’s shoulder but he flinched at the touch.

Turning back to her, Mark said, “Addie, I’m not that guy anymore, I can‘t be…not with everything that‘s at stake.”

In that moment Addison had a compulsion that was so rare she barely recognised it, she wanted to hug Mark, so she did. Wrapping her arms around him, he stood rigid for a moment but slowly he returned her embrace.

“You’re not that guy anymore Mark,” Addison whispered. Addison smiled when she was sure she could feel Mark smiling.

The door opened and Addison’s stomach fell to the floor, she didn’t dare look at Lexie as Mark pulled away from her harshly.

“Lexie…”

“No, no. I understand,” She stammered.

“No you don’t,” Mark told her firmly. Addison turned and Lexie’s face was every bit as heartbroken as she thought it would be.

Lexie knew the Mark/Addison history, the hospital had been buzzing with it since she arrived with her brother. Only she had hoped, really hoped Mark had moved on but clearly he hadn’t.

“I have to go,” Lexie tried to pass Mark but he grabbed her hand. Lexie didn’t want to feel the tingling that seemed to emit from his hand and pass through hers. “I have patients.”

Silently, she begged him to let her go, thankfully he did. Racing down the corridor, Lexie hid herself in the nearest closet. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed since she went into the closet but her back was aching and her butt felt numb.

Dr Torres opened the door and walked straight in. ”Grey.”

Lexie looked up from under her eyelashes, “Yeah?”

“This…” She gestured around her, “Is pathetic.”

Lexie tilted her head, anger rising in her stomach, “Really?”

“Down girl, not what I came in here for,” Callie held up her hands in peace, “Now you and I both know what you saw with Mark and Addison was clearly platonic. They don’t have sex anymore especially not since he’s dating you.”

Lexie’s heart felt a little lighter at those words but she didn’t let it get past that, “He was hugging her.”

“Hugging, done by nearly everybody,” Callie sat down beside her and nudged her, “Truth is, Mark is into you. In a way I’ve never seen before and I doubt Addison has either.”

Her heart was still rising, Lexie smiled, Callie saw it and gave a triumph cry, “Just remember this when I’m in some closet, hyperventilating over things that haven’t happened.”

Lexie rolled her eyes, “Whatever.”

---

Somehow Lexie hadn’t ended up seeing Mark for the rest of the day, but bumped into Addison constantly and happily stopped her apologises in their tracks. High ground’s a bitch, Lexie smiled to herself.

Changed into a pair of jeans and comfy tee, Lexie had accepted an invitation to go to Joe’s bar with the other interns. It had been awhile since they all hung out because of Lexie’s nocturnal activities with Mark. Should be fun, Lexie nodded as George got into the elevator.

“Hey George, coming to Joe’s?” Lexie asked as she slipped her cell into her pocket.

George pressed the ‘G’ button, “Sure.”

Lexie smiled and hummed to herself for the rest of the short elevator ride, George texting on his cell as they got into the lobby, “You okay George?”

“Hmm? Yeah, just little crazy today, I had to describe Bailey in 500 words,” George said with a fond smile. For all the yelling and scariness, Dr Bailey was a great doctor and a great teacher.

“Dr Grey!” Mark called to her as the automatic doors slid open. Lexie stopped, George looked at her, “Lex?”

Stay or go?

“You go, I’ll met you there, I hear Sloan calling me. Probably more charts to finish,” Lexie waved George on as he shook his head.

Mark caught up to where Lexie stood, “What do you want?”

“Little Grey…” Mark looked tired, Lexie tried to stop her heart from constricting.

“What? Run out of exes to hug? Or just people you want to be seen in public hugging?” Lexie said in a rush but wished she could take back half of it.

“I’m sorry. It’s not what it looked like,” Mark’s eyes seemed to plead with her.

“It’s not? Because I’m told this is what I should expect from the great Mark Sloan,” Lexie started to walk into the parking lot, intending to go home instead of to Joe’s. She managed to get one row away from her own car before she was stopped by Mark, wrapping two arms around her, crossing under her breasts as he held her, his chin resting atop her head.

“Mark…” Lexie said, shocked, “What are you doing?”

“I’m hugging you,” The way he said it made her sound silly and honestly, feel silly.

“People will see you, Derek could see you!” Lexie admonished.

Mark turned her around to face him, “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

Lexie sighed, “It is. I just…” Mark tried to catch Lexie’s eye as she looked down at the floor. “I didn’t know if that’s what you wanted. Really.”

Mark shook his head, his hands coming up to her face, stroking her cheeks. Lexie bit her lip and Mark kissed her, softly but then harder, pushing her back towards the nearest car. Lexie’s hands wrapped around Mark’s jacket covered biceps as she kissed him back in earnest. Slowly, he let her go but she still held on to him, dazed.

“I’m telling Derek. Tomorrow,” Mark told her.

“I am folded, I am unfolded, I am folding,
Pull me out from inside,
I am ready,
I am fine,”
- Colorblind; Counting Crows.

Smallville: Ray of Light [1/3]

Fri, 20 Feb 2009 02:22:13 GMT

Title: Ray of light [1/3]
Author: Rae
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Kara, Oliver, Clark, Lana and the League; Kara/Oliver, background implied Clark/Lana.
Warnings/Spoilers: Set in slightly AU!Season 7.
Disclaimer: DC comics/The CW reserve all rights to characters mentioned within and I on no part have refuted these claims.
Summary: Kara meets a kindred spirit in Oliver and maybe she can share with him the life she feels is being denied to her living with Clark.
Author notes: There is a note at the end of the chapter.
Word Count: 2,539

Chapter 1: Sol

Pale blue eyes stared at Oliver as he stood rooted on the spot, “Uh, hi?” He fumbled as blonde hair glinted in the sunlight.

“Hi,” Lips curved into a smile.

“I was looking for Clark, he around?” Oliver cleared his throat.

“He’s in the barn, left me out here with the cows,” Eyebrow quirked, the woman before him picked up a bucket and pointed to the field behind him.

“Oh… right,” Oliver nodded, making a gesture for her to pass him.

“I have to go, Bessie gets terse this time of the morning,” The small smile was now a full grin on her glowing face.

“Sure, have fun,” Oliver said before he cursed himself in his head, Have fun? Lame.

Kara bit her lip as she walked down to the gate that fenced in the Kent farm cows. She felt strange, like a warm feeling was spreading out under her skin, making her heart speed up and her mouth dry. All her knowledge told her that her reaction was attraction. Kara turned her head to see the retreating male form, hair the colour of the sun and eyes green like the grass. He reminded her of everything earthly and human.

----

Clark grumbled as he cleaned up the remains of Kara’s watermelon, half of it was glued to the barn walls forcing Clark to scrub harder and worsen his mood. Clark heard footsteps and he scowled, “If you’ve come to gloat I’m pretty sure I can find something else for you to do… without your powers!”

“Talking to me?” Oliver laughed as Clark flushed.

“Oliver, what…uh…” Clark dropped the wet sponge as he stood. “No, of course not.”

“But someone else -- with powers,” Oliver surmised.

Clark rolled his tongue, “Not exactly.”

“Okay, vague, you feeling okay Clark?” Oliver asked as he took in the state of the barn.

“I was… being metaphorical,” Clark replied but obviously neither one of them believed what he had said.

“KAL-EL!”

Both Clark and Oliver’s heads turned in the direction of the shout. Oliver’s blonde stormed into the barn drenched in what Oliver could only guess was milk. Clark clearly went into damage control mode, darting forward grabbing the woman’s bicep and guided her towards the door. The woman saw Oliver standing behind Clark and she blushed, “Oh.”

Clark looked at her then at Oliver, he looked angry, it was a strange look for him, “Let’s go, before you do any more damage.”

“Clark, aren’t you going to introduce us?” Oliver said conversationally as he held out his hand.

Clark hesitated, before taking in a breath and letting it out, “Oliver Queen, this is my cousin, Kara. Kara Kent. My biological cousin.”

“Kara…Kent,” Oliver repeated, feeling it roll off his tongue.

“Yeah,” Kara nodded, “It’s nice to meet you Mr Queen.”

“Oliver,” Oliver shook Kara’s hand, her grip was firm as her cheeks were red.

Oliver smiled and Kara blinked, “Oh.” Blinking again, the last remaining watermelon burst, covering the three of them where they stood.

Clark shook his head, “Kara!”

“Sorry! I didn’t do it on purpose!”

Oliver wiped the flesh of the fruit off his sleeve before he saw a look pass between the cousins. “Am I missing something?”

Kara bit her lip while Clark put himself between Oliver and Kara, “Kara’s just adjusting.”

“Adjusting?” Oliver asked curiously.

“To the farm,” Kara said easily, “It’s so different to back home.”

“The farm,” Oliver repeated, “As opposed to -- Krypton.”

Kara nodded, “You know our secret?”

Clark cleared his throat, “Kara, why don’t you get cleaned up, I need to talk to Oliver.”

Kara ducked her head before begrudgingly returning back to the house. Clark turned to Oliver, “Oliver I need you to stay away from Kara.”

“What? Why?” Oliver said quickly and without thought.

“For both your sakes, it’s not safe, not until she can control her abilities.”

Kara stormed her way up to her room catching Clark‘s warning to Oliver, easily Kara was irritated that she should be reduced to the part of a ‘hormonal teenager’. She was already of age when Kal-El was born! Slamming her gloves down on the vanity table, cracking it in half, Kara let out a harsh breath before Lana entered her field of vision.

“Hey,” Lana said with a small smile. “Cousin trouble?”

Sighing, Kara nodded, “It just seems that all Clark wants to do is make me fit into his life. The more he tries the more I realise I don’t…”

“He is trying Kara, you just have to give him a chance,” Lana tilted her head, as if she was trying to understand what Kara was going through, but she never would.

Kara nodded, “Right, but when is he going to give me a chance to live my life?”

---

To fly was a liberating experience even for Kara. Her father had put whole programs about it in her information database. Find your center, let your arms fall as you gain altitude…For a moment, Kara felt like she was suspended in time again as she held herself up above the Earth.

Lex Luthor had claimed she was an angel come to save him from a watery grave. Kara was confused by this, she had seen pictures of angels and she had no wings to speak of. Clark had told her that humans rationalised what they could and ignored what they couldn’t. Was this how Oliver rationalised her existence? A myth stooped in legend.

Kara had only intended to ask Oliver about it but her breath caught in her throat. Contorted until his feet were in the air and his forearms held the majority of his weight. Kara watched as Oliver breathed deeply before he let his bare feet touch the ground again.

“Yoga, helps with thinking,” Oliver explained as he picked up a towel, wiping the sweat from his shoulders.

“Also builds muscle definition,” Kara replied without thought, again her body flushed, staining her cheeks red.

Oliver smiled, “Well, I guess you don’t need to…”

Kara nodded, “Kryptonians are naturally formed for prime physical condition.”

Oliver raised his eyebrows and Kara lowered her eyes, training them on the floor. “I always wondered about that, I mean Clark’s the size of a house.”

“Good breeding,” Kara pursed her lips.

“Do you want something to eat? We could order pizza,” Oliver smiled, grabbing the phone off of his desk.

Kara felt torn, she knew that talking to Oliver was breaking at least 5 of her cousin’s cardinal rules but she really enjoyed Oliver’s company. “One with everything on it?”

“One with everything on it,” Oliver agreed.

Oliver watched as Kara sat beside him as she studied a piece of pizza in front of her so intensely it seemed she was x-raying every vegetable that went into her mouth. Mouth might have been a bad thing to focus on, Oliver decided as he noticed Kara’s was curved up in concentration and her tongue poking out of one corner.

“That’s a pineapple, Kara,” Oliver laughed as he pressed a button and his 50inch plasma came to life.

Kara bit into it, her face lighting up with pleasure, “It’s good.”

“Glad you approve,” Oliver smiled, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a while after seeing how easily Kara enjoyed her food.

“I know, Kal-El thinks I don’t notice when he’s putting green things on my plate but I do,” Kara popped a chunk of crust into her mouth and chewed.

“Clark, you mean,” Oliver clarified as he flicked around on the channels seeing if there was anything to catch his interest.

Kara looked sad, “Yeah.”

“You don’t like the name Clark?” Oliver picked up another slice of pizza as he watched Kara, “Seeing as you’re always calling him Kal-El.”

“It’s what you call him, to me my cousin is baby Kal-El with a chubby little face and liked having his feet tickled.” Kara sighed, “I don’t want to lose Krypton just because I’m forced to live on Earth.”

“Clark had a chubby face?” Oliver tried to hold back his laugh.

Kara let a small smile peek through, “His name means light you know. The shining hope of Krypton. But yeah, he was cute, dark unruly hair with wide blue eyes. Aunt Lara adored him.”

“And you I’m guessing,” Oliver grabbed Kara’s hand, it was surprisingly warm in his own. Their fingers laced together easily.

“I like to think so,” Kara said, her voice tinged with longing for a family she had lost without even knowing about it.

It would be so easy for Oliver to reach out and touch the silky strands of Kara’s hair, to pull her towards him with their joined hands. Oliver watched as Kara closed her eyes as if she was allowing a memory to wash over her, her lips parting as she took in a slow breath before releasing it.

Kara had kissed males before, or specifically, one. Her father had caught her and proceeded to yell so loud, Kara had never wanted to attempt to incur that wrath again. But Kara felt a jolt of electricity run through her as Oliver touched his lips to hers, a soft sigh escaped her mouth as she pressed tighter against him. Kara felt another slice of pleasure when Ollie’s hand cupped her jaw, his thumb rubbing against her cheek as his lips parted over hers.

---

“Kal-El said it was dangerous for people to know about us.”

Kara sat on top of the balcony outside, Oliver asked, “How’d you get up there without coming through the elevator?”

“Flew,” Kara said simply as she slipped off and started to walk towards the glass door, she walked through and sat down on one of Oliver’s chairs.

“Flew? As in defied gravity?” Oliver frowned.

“It’s not that hard, unless you’re Clark.” Kara smiled, clearly enjoying taking a shot at her cousin.

“So your kind can fly?”

“Kind?” Kara asked as she folded her arms.

“Well, you’re not human are you?”

“I wish someone would tell Clark that.”

Oliver frowned again, “I thought Clark was more than aware of his…uniqueness.”

“He is, but he still pretends like he’s one of them. He’s not though, but I guess it’s easier for him, he never knew back home,” Kara said quietly as she gazed out on the skyline.

“On Krypton?”

“On Krypton,” Kara agreed. “It’s nice having someone to talk to.”

“You don’t talk to Clark?” Oliver asked as he pulled his jacket off, throwing it over the back of a chair.

“I talk to him about his parents, but not what it was like -- living in Kandor as it slowly tore itself apart in the civil war,” Kara sighed.

“Clark’s expecting you to be a 19 year old girl from Earth not a 19 year old girl from another planet,” Oliver pointed out.

“Exactly,” Kara nodded, “I’m glad I met you Oliver Queen.”

“Same here,” Oliver smiled but Kara blinked again before Oliver’s canvas lamp caught fire.

“Uh, I should go,” Kara stuttered. “Clark will be wondering where I am.”

“Kara!”

But she had already taken off into the sky, a red and blue blur into the night.

“Wow.” Oliver laughed as he closed the glass door to the balcony.

----

Oliver was holding a meeting with the League the next time he saw Kara, sitting on the balcony in the place she had been before, Oliver smiled as she waved at him.

“What’s with Robin Hood?” A.C. quipped as Oliver turned his attention back to his files.

Bart laughed, “Dude, hot blonde.”

A.C. leaned forward from his seat at the table and caught sight of Kara. She was dressed in her customary denim blue shorts and red vest. “Really hot blonde.”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed, “She can hear you.”

“What?” Bart laughed as Kara opened the door.

“Hey,” Kara smiled, Oliver stood and met her in the middle of the room.

“Everything okay?” Oliver asked, concerned.

“Yeah!” Kara nodded, “I was just bored at the farm, Clark was giving another speech.”

Bart smirked, “You know Clark? I will have to congratulate mi amigo.”

Kara frowned, “Sorry?”

Oliver guided Kara over to the elevator, “I’m almost done with this, I’ll see you in about 10 minutes downstairs?”

“Sure,” Kara agreed, pressing the button for down.

Bart gave a whoop and a cheer but Oliver glared at him, “Back to business.”

“Oh come on, she was off the scale hot and…”

“And she’s Clark’s cousin!” Oliver threw back, “Anyone want to get on his bad side?”

Victor who had been previously silent looked straight at Ollie, “Too late, man.”

---

Kara was sitting at a table in the local coffee shop when Oliver caught up with her, “Sorry about that,” Oliver breathed as he sat down opposite her. Kara looked serious as she contemplated her coffee, “Those guys, your friends, they were being crude about me.”

“Kara…”

“I know because I studied your language,” Kara continued, “but really am I a hot blonde?”

Oliver laughed as a waitress came to take his order, “Coffee black two sugars please. Kara, of all the reactions -- that was the only one I wasn’t expecting.”

“Oliver, be serious!” Kara frowned, her lips almost turned into a pout.

“Kara Kent you’re a beautiful woman,” Oliver said in all seriousness as he stared at Kara’s pale blue eyes that had mesmerized him in the beginning.

“I know that thank you is the appropriate Earthly response,” Kara said softly as her eyes began to half close.

“Yeah,” Oliver agreed but Kara leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. They were just as soft as they looked, moving easily against his own. A moment later they were gone, and Oliver opened his eyes to see Kara staring intently at her cup.

“One coffee black and…two sugars,” The waitress said easily as she set the coffee down in front of Ollie.

“Thanks,” Oliver muttered.

Kara smiled and Oliver noticed her eyes rimmed red but nothing seemed to catch fire around them. “Ollie…”

Oliver instinctually leaned forward, “Kara?”

“Let’s go on a date,” Kara still smiled but Oliver blinked, unsure if he had heard the words correctly.

“A date?”

“Yes, I believe it’s how Earth people get to know each other.” Kara quirked her eyebrow in amusement.

“Why how do people get to know each other where you’re from?” Oliver asked sceptically.

“I think you call it… a home run?” Oliver’s eyes went wide, “I’m kidding, arranged marriage usually.”

“That’s…”

“Barbaric, degenerative even archaic? To get married just because you both have the optimum qualities for child bearing,” Kara listed and Oliver frowned.

“Not a fan, I take it,” Oliver replied.

“I just didn’t like the man my father chose for me,” Kara sipped her coffee.

Oliver tried to digest that piece of information, “Why, what was he like?”

“Oh about 7 feet tall, muscles out to here and the smartest man on the planet,” Kara said casually. Oliver nodded, suddenly feeling very sick. “Actually, he wasn’t and it doesn’t matter, I like you.” Kara said with a smile as she got up and kissed Oliver’s cheek before leaving.

“Uh huh, why do I get the feeling I’ve just been played?” Oliver murmured to himself.

Continued in Chapter 2.
----

*I took a liberty with the meaning of Clark’s Kryptonian name because I couldn’t remember what was exactly said about it in the episode. Hope it doesn’t irritate or annoy too much.

Smallville: Not a ghost, but goodbye [1/1]

Sat, 07 Feb 2009 00:43:32 GMT

Title: Not a ghost, just goodbye.
Author: Rae
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Clark, Lana, Lois; past Clark/Lana, implied Clark/Lois.
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for Requiem.
Disclaimer: Do not own. Not claiming to either.
Summary: Lana returns but Clark’s moved on.
A/N: For Trishie’s challenge of Lana returning and Clark turning her down.

Sitting at his desk, Clark let the keys clack rhythmically under his fingers. His nose wrinkled over a particular sentence structure. Sighing, Clark shook his head, “I swear she makes it harder for me on purpose.”

“Wouldn’t be moaning there would you Smallville?” Lois said with a smirk on her face. “After all, a bet’s a bet.”

“I didn’t know that our bet would include correcting your misspelling of derogatory for the next month,” Clark handed Lois her copy which was covered in Clark’s pencil scribble.

Lois nodded slowly, “Huh, just like I misspelled it in that puff piece about ‘high fashion’.”

Clark came to the realisation as Lois dropped the paper on her desk that she was playing him. Lois picked up her coat and slipped it over her shoulders, “It sucks to lose, good thing I don’t do it very often.”

“’Night, Lois,” Clark smiled as Lois looked at him, smile in her eyes.

“Don’t worry, Clark, you’ll win won day,” Lois turned to leave but not before she stopped to tell him, “It just you know…won’t be me.”

“Against you? Or you in general?” Clark asked before he even clicked what had come out of his mouth.

Lois bit her bottom lip and then laughed, “You couldn’t handle a girl like me, Smallville.”

You’re probably right, Lois.

***

Clark hovered over the edge of the Daily Planet, his mind somewhere above the clouds as a dark figure approached him. Eyes closed, Clark took in a breath and a hand touched his own. Instinctually, Clark tried to ground himself but there was nothing beneath him, body turned he managed to grab on to the side of the Daily Planet roof. Clark grunted as his body made impact on the cold brick.

“Clark!”

Pulling his body up, Clark was speechless at the sight, “Lana?”

Lana looked what could only be called sheepish. Clark levitated himself onto the Planet roof. “Wow, you fly now?”

“Lana, what are you doing here?” Clark asked in disbelief, he had waited for the pain to come but nothing happened.

“I talked to some of Dr Grohl’s associates and after some digging they were able to help me,” Lana smiled painfully.

“Help you?”

“Get rid of the suit,” Lana turned her back to Clark, staring out over the expanse of Metropolis. “It was hard, living that life, saving people without you. It was lonely.”

Clark frowned, “So you came back because what? You were lonely?”

“Clark, I came back because… I miss you,” Lana’s eyes held hope but Clark just didn’t feel it.

“I asked you to stay, I asked you to let me help you…” Clark brushed his mouth unable to articulate his words.

Lana nodded, “I know, I was wrong… I shouldn’t have left. I should have fought for what we have.”

“Had.” Clark closed his eyes, the word sticking in his throat. Lana looked at him, her head tilting as she tried to understand. “You left and I moved on. I had to.”

“Moved on, it’s been a while since I heard those words,” Lana laughed cynically.

Clark touched Lana’s shoulder, turning her to him, “But this time they’re true. We were done, forever. Separated by the one thing that could kill me.”

Lana finally realised what Clark was saying or not saying, “You met someone else?”

“Not exactly,” Clark sighed, then folded his arms, “It’s complicated.”

“Lois.” Lana swallowed.

Clark tilted his head, “How…?”

“I saw the way you look at her at Chloe’s wedding, even before you saw me, I watched you…watching her,” Lana wiped her face, brushing away the tears that had fallen. “You were in love with her then weren’t you?”

Clark lived by the rule of honestly, “I don’t know. I cared about her and I felt something but now… it’s love. I love Lois.”

Lana nodded, “I’m happy for you, Clark.”

Clark wanted to reach out to Lana but there was nothing he could to fix her pain. He had moved on and he was happy and no matter what powers he had he couldn’t just make that materialise for Lana.

“I’m sorry,” Clark said honestly.

“Me too Clark,” Lana smiled softly. “I better go.”

“Where?” Clark asked, concerned.

“Don’t worry Clark, I can take care of myself,” Lana kissed his cheek before she left him alone on the roof.

***

Clark made his way back down to get this things so he could go home. He blinked a few times when he realised Lois was sitting at her desk.

“Lois?”

“Smallville, what are you still doing here?” Lois asked quizzically.

“Oh, I was on the roof. I like the quiet up there,” Clark replied before he sat back down at his desk.

Lois smiled, “Yeah, me too. I guess it reminds me of being on the farm, all that quiet.” Clark let out a deep breath, “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Clark smiled, “Not a ghost, just goodbye.”

“Like that’s not at all cryptic,” Lois rolled her eyes.

“Maybe I’ll tell you about it one day,” Clark started to type, his key clacks in time with Lois’ as the two of them worked for the rest of the night, day and quite possibly their lives.

Grey's Anatomy: Break my fall [1/1]

Sat, 31 Jan 2009 09:45:49 GMT

Title: Break my fall. [1/1]
Author: Rae
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairing: Mark/Lexie.
Warnings/Spoilers: Angst, a tiny bit of groping and some fluff at the end. Set post 5x13 so spoilers up until then.
Disclaimer: All rights are reserved by ABC and ownership belongs to Shonda Rhimes therefore this is a piece of fiction and is not written for profit.
Summary: A rumor circles Seattle Grace and Mark fights for Lexie.
Author Notes: My first for this pairing but definitely not my last. Also a different writing style for me, I hope you all enjoy it.
Word Count: 639

Rumors.

Rumors spread like wildfire in a place like Seattle Grace. But still it caught Lexie by surprise when the newest rumor was about her relationship with Mark.

“Are you sleeping with him?” People she’s never even met ask her. Lexie prays she doesn’t blush when she replies but to anyone who knows her its clear that she’s lying. Thankfully no one here knows her, not really.

The moment Lexie dreads approaches, Sloan is waiting for her as she walks out into the parking lot. “Little Grey…”

Lexie ignores him, and continues to walk. Don’t give them reason to talk turns into don’t give him reason to leave.

“Hey, Lexie…”

Lexie sighs at the use of her name, it’s a rarity that Sloan varies from his nickname for her but she can’t give in.

“What?” Lexie caves, mentally cursing her weakness. Turning around to face Sloan, it becomes clear that he hadn’t thought past getting her attention. Mark takes a breath, his face set in that look Lexie comes to recognise as apologetic.

“We’ll get past this,” Sloan tells her but Lexie knows enough not to believe him. He’s telling her what she wants to hear.

Lexie shoves her hands in her pockets, intent on making it easier for both of them, “No, we won’t. Once people start talking it’s only a matter of time until once of us slips up and logic dictates it will probably be me.”

Mark’s silence is deafening. Lexie smiles, painfully, “It was good while it lasted.”

Lexie walks away and doesn’t listen as Mark calls for her again.

-

Sadie looks at her confused as Lexie explains that they stopped seeing each other. “But you like him. A lot. You were there for him when he broke his penis.”

Lexie snorts, half frustration, half amusement. “I was but it’s just not a good idea, okay.”

It’s clear Sadie wants to say something else but the look on Lexie’s face stops her.

-

Lexie is giving a patient a shot of morphine when Sloan corners her. “Little Grey.”

“Stop calling me that,” Lexie murmurs as she smiles at Mr Cobalt.

“Dr Grey, may I speak with you?” Mark’s tone doesn’t even begin to describe pissed.

Sloan practically marches Lexie to the on-call room. Arms folded Lexie does okay standing up to Mark, until he starts to speak.

“I didn’t know breaking up meant ceasing all conversation,” Sloan says leisurely as he leans back against one wall.

Lexie shrugged, “Easier I guess.”

“Easier for who?” Sloan asks and Lexie feels her stomach roll.

“Don’t.” Lexie says angrily, suddenly as if she had been dropped in cold water, “Don’t play with me because the truth is, you’ll walk away from this. I won’t.”

Lexie is unprepared for the kiss that Mark practically tears from her, his body covering hers, back against the wall, hands grabbing at anything and everything. Lexie pulls Mark’s scrub shirt off over his head and sighs as he presses kisses along her jaw line and down her throat.

“Wait,” Lexie bites out as hands skim her waist. “We can’t do this. We’re broken up.”

“You wanted me to teach you, Grey, so I’m going to teach you,” Mark tells her, “Never give up what you want.”

Lexie closes her eyes as the words wash over her, “I’m not going to hide what’s going on between us.”

Sloan shrugged and smirks, “Neither I am, I can see it now, Mark Sloan screws another hot intern.”

“You know you’re not that funny,” Lexie laughs as she pushes Mark off her.

“Hey, where are you going?” Mark looks at her expectantly.

“Mr Cobalt needs a sponge bath.”

“You’re choosing him over hot sex with me?” Sloan looks at her incredulously.

Lexie smiles, “Talk louder Mark, I definitely think that’s a rumor people want to here.”

Smallville: Prompt table B for lover100 - Clark Kent/Lois Lane

Tue, 27 Jan 2009 23:39:21 GMT

Table-B

001.	Romance.	002.	Beauty.	003.	Forgiveness.	004.	Regret.	005.	Discovery.
006.	First Meeting.	007.	Hardest Truth.	008.	Resolutions.	009.	Anything.	010.	Home.
011.	Intimacy.	012.	Self-Love.	013.	Kisses.	014.	Frustration.	015.	Pressure.
016.	Absurd.	017.	Forbidden.	018.	Honesty.	019.	Grace.	020.	Laughter.
021.	Confidence.	022.	Happiness.	023.	Sexy.	024.	Tears.	025.	Growth.
026.	Sensuality.	027.	Faith.	028.	Night.	029.	Day.	030.	Innocence.
031.	Music.	032.	Water.	033.	Love.	034.	Ambiguity.	035.	Act.
036.	Whew.	037.	Anger.	038.	Dirt.	039.	Trust.	040.	Heat.
041.	Summer Love.	042.	Patience.	043.	Opportunity.	044.	Death.	045.	Passion.
046.	Healing.	047.	Life.	048.	Joy.	049.	Freedom.	050.	Bliss.
051.	Dreams.	052.	Kinky.	053.	Haunted.	054.	Emergence.	055.	Transmogrify.
056.	Magnetic.	057.	Surreal.	058.	Passage.	059.	Lush.	060.	Could Of.
061.	Would Of.	062.	Should Of.	063.	Hunger.	064.	Need.	065.	Want.
066.	Take.	067.	Have.	068.	Mine.	069.	Yours.	070.	Lubricious.
071.	Lugubrious.	072.	Perspective.	073.	Capering.	074.	Empathy.	075.	Sympathy.
076.	Mirth.	077.	Almost.	078.	Always.	079.	Surprise.	080.	Warmth.
081.	Heartache.	082.	Ghosts.	083.	Break-Up.	084.	Make-Up.	085.	Diary.
086.	Voice.	087.	Biggest Fear.	088.	Warning.	089.	Everything.	090.	Nothing.
091.	Failure.	092.	Success.	093.	Glimpse.	094.	Sanctuary.	095.	Picture.
096.	Writer‘s Choice.	097.	Writer‘s Choice.	098.	Writer‘s Choice.	099.	Writer‘s Choice.	100.	Writer‘s Choice.

Batman TDK: Laid to Ruin [1/1]

Sat, 27 Dec 2008 23:28:40 GMT

Title: Laid to ruin [1/1]
Author: Rae
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Harvey (Two-Face), Joker, Joker/Harvey.
Warnings/Spoilers: AU towards the end of TDK as well as slash, oral sex (M/M), sadomasochism and erotic asphyxiation.
Disclaimer: Bob Kane/DC Comics own Batman and all characters concerned. I just played with ‘em.
Summary: Should have seen your face, Harv, completely fuckable. Maybe we should try it some time.

J.
Author Notes: Sequel/Add-on of Broken Images but can be read as standalone. Last night I watched TDK and well I was feeling inspired.

---

Harvey Dent was a patient fool pretending that his life was going to change, to be like it was. Or that it would get better. But it wouldn’t, it would continue, descending, crashing, burning in to the ground faster than he could watch…

---

Drip, drip, drip, the noise incessant against the silent background. Eye closed, Harvey twisted his hands, a burn of pain licked at his wrists, a warm trickle of blood slid down his arms. Bare from the waist up, a sheen of sweat covered his shoulders, small drops of it gathering in the small of his back. Belt-less, his trousers slung low on his hips, he looked in a word; fuckable. But that wasn’t the point, it wasn’t why his arms ached with the effort of trying to hold up his own weight, why his blood stained the floor from gashes that decorated his chest.

“Oh, Ha-ha-Harvey,” The Joker spoke with an amused lilt, knowing full well Harvey was bound with rope, hanging from the ceiling in a sewer no better for rats than humans.

Harvey continued to focus on his wrists as the pain sliced through his arms but sent shocks of heat to low in his belly. For a second he let go, his body dropping and Harvey’s bare feet landed on the floor. A shout of agony followed it as broken shards of glass tore into Harvey’s feet. Quickly, Harvey wrapped the rope tighter around his hands and groaned with the effort it took him to pull himself up off the floor.

“Say Uncle,” Joker said easily as palmed Harvey’s stomach, taut with exertion and the only part of Harvey not covered in cuts.

Harvey grimaced as he felt more of his blood flowing out of his body, “Fuck you.”

“Oh I want to,” Joker replied, his voice further away as he fetched something.

Harvey would have prayed if he was at all religious, not the whip but of course it was. His back was already coloured with lacerations, he was running out of places to hurt. Instead of the crack he expected, Harvey felt the soft leather against his throat, tighter and tighter it became until the light behind Harvey’s eyelid began to die, his lips pulsing as he gasped for air. His hands let go of the ropes, his feet colliding with the floor quickly, but Harvey couldn’t feel it. His body was completely numb as he stood on the broken glass.

“Wha-what have you done?” Harvey slurred as the Joker let go of the whip and cut Harvey down from the ropes. Harvey fell backwards, landing against the Joker but still no pain accosted him. Joker pushed him towards a chair about 8 feet in front of them but the path to it was laden with glass. Slowly, Harvey stumbled towards the chair, his mind almost detached from his body as he tried to gain purchase on this new world.

“Joker…” Harvey mumbled as he fell into the chair, his body sagging. A thumb brushed across the good side of Harvey’s mouth, before trying pulling him up by his lip but Harvey’s body wouldn’t move. Harvey was vaguely aware when the Joker kicked the chair back and then his head hitting the wall. This time the blood tingled as it wetted his hand and hair.

His eyelid flickered as Harvey tried to stop his hips from bucking, but it was too late, a groan slid out of his abused mouth. Harvey felt a hand in his hair as it forced his head to one side as teeth latched down on the soft skin of his throat. Another hand forced it’s way down his body, ripping and unzipping what was left of his clothes. Lust gripped Harvey as he felt the Joker’s wet mouth close around him, it was made even more powerful by the sensations that were returning from his feet upwards. Agony laced into the desire, Harvey was a writhing mess, every jerk and movement caused pain to radiate from various places in his body.

Then it was over, body spent and mind ragged. Left on the chair, Harvey hissed and grunted as he pulled the glass from his feet and stood to zip his pants. Beside the chair was a bottle of vodka, picking it up, Harvey opened it up, taking a long draw on the good side of his mouth then poured the rest of it over his wounds. No one could hear his screams as the alcohol burned.

Falling to his knees Harvey let out a breath, there was nothing left to burn or break so why did he keep coming back, keep insisting that he needed the deranged freak. Maybe he did, maybe he was just as sick as the Joker.

Two of a kind. That’s my kind of number. Harvey decided as he pocketed his coin off the table.

End

Merlin: Even as I turn away -- Chapter 1 - I see my reflection in your eyes [1/4]

Wed, 17 Dec 2008 16:30:57 GMT

Title: Even as I turn away (Chapter 1 - I see my reflection in your eyes)
Author: Rae
Rating: R/NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Arthur, Merlin, Paige and Theresa, Arthur/Merlin and implied Theresa/Merlin.
Warnings/Spoilers: Set post-The Moment of Truth so up until then. Although there might be later mentions of other episodes.
Disclaimer: BBC owns the rights and reserves Merlin, I don’t own them, I just took them out to play.
Summary: In mythology, Sirens were bird women whose song was lethal to any man who heard it. Arthur and Merlin are stronger together but when their relationship takes a turn for the worse, do they have enough power individually to fend off the Siren’s song?
Betas: For grammar [Unknown LJ tag]and plot princessezzy</lj>
Author Notes: Theresa and Paige are characters I’ve created vaguely off the Greek mythology of Sirens (Thelxepia and Penisinoe) which can range between two and five. Both of them represent a certain quality. (Enchantress and Seductress) The lyrics at the end are Broken by Lifehouse.
Word Count: 4,334

***

In the forest, beneath the intertwining roots and trees, a hand skimmed the surface of the lake. Eyes the colour of raging sapphires implored the water to move, to be more than it was. Like an old call to arms two figures swirled, rippled and emerged from the previously silent water.

Nimueh smiled as two human female faces stared at her, confusing clouding their bright eyes, “Sisters, I ask this favour of you…”

It was when her proposal was finished, the women smiled and flapped their wings.

***

Merlin frowned as Arthur gesticulated largely with his left hand, his right carrying his wine for the foreseeable time until Arthur decided his evening wasn‘t perfect until he had berated Merlin at least once for not attending his needs. I don’t resent Arthur, I don’t resent Arthur, Merlin grumbled to himself as several courtier women sighed contently as Arthur paused only to sip his glass in refreshment.

There was a tap at Merlin‘s shoulder, a soft voice floated over the mandolins, “I do apologise --”

Merlin turned, almost spilling the cup of wine he was holding as he looked into a pair of sky blue eyes, “Uh.”

“I’m sorry?” The eyes asked.

“Um, sorry, yes. How can I help?” Merlin blinked, his field of vision widening enough to take in a head of blonde curls, slender nose and soft pink lips.

“Well, my sister and I are new to Camelot and you seem the knowledgeable sort…”

“You want me to introduce you to Arthur?” Merlin sighed, of course she wanted to talk to him, quickest way to Arthur in the castle.

“Why? Is he more intelligent than you?”

Merlin laughed until he realised that she was serious, “Oh, no. I just thought -”

“Ah, a pursuit often sneered at but more useful than any sword poking,” Another vision said as she came to stand by the other. “Where are your manners, sister? Are we not to be introduced?”

“Sisters?” Merlin squeaked and the blonde looked back at him with a smile.

“My sister is right, I forget myself, I am Lady Theresa and this is my sister Lady Paige,” Theresa curtsied with a flourish but Paige’s attention was elsewhere, looking out over the dance floor. Merlin took his time in his appraisal of her, more on guard than he was when Theresa had blinded him. Paige’s hair was long, dark as a raven wing and just that little bit unruly. Both sisters wore simple silk gowns without adornments but their vibrant colours more than made up for that, Theresa’s was that of a forest green against her sister’s amethyst.

“I’m Merlin,” Merlin said quickly, when he realised he had been staring for several long moments. Quickly, both sisters looked at him, their expressions inquisitive before Paige turned her head abruptly, “Sister, I must return.”

Theresa nodded as Paige swept out of the room, not unnoticed by the rest of the court, “Come Merlin, let us dance.”

“Lady Theresa, I’m a servant, Prince Arthur’s servant to be exact and he…” Merlin stopped when Theresa pressed a finger to his lips.

“Will not worry, he is quite cared for,” Theresa smiled as she turned her head to the still fawned over prince.

“My lady, I do not dance -- at all,” Merlin insisted. Theresa ignored his pleas and took his hand, pulling him to the dance floor.

Staring at him expectantly, Merlin felt himself crumbling under Theresa’s gaze as if he could deny her nothing, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Merlin, you do underestimate yourself,” Theresa smiled again as Merlin lead her in a turnabout the floor, or five steps before he stood on her slipper clad foot.

Merlin looked apologetic, “Oops.”

Theresa looked down at their feet, chuckling to herself as she looked back up at Merlin from under her lashes, she stepped on Merlin’s foot -- hard. “Now we’re even. Continue?”

“Ouch!” Merlin gasped, barely unable to not lift his foot to rub the pain away, “That was harsh.”

“You’re a man who believes in equality are you not Merlin?” Theresa looked at him with those eyes and he could not think anymore, like all thought had escaped him. He nodded easily as he continued on his path not stopping as they almost bumped into other pairs on the dance floor.

“Merlin!” A voice demanded, knocking Merlin out of his stupor. Arthur was striding towards him in the middle of the dance floor.

“Sire?” Merlin said almost groggily.

Arthur looked at him with distaste, “Merlin, what are you doing?”

“Dancing,” Merlin replied automatically.

“Really? I thought you’d already started cleaning up the way you cleared the floor,” Arthur scowled.

“Well, your highness, I was delighted with my dance partner in fact,” Arthur turned as if only for the first time seeing Lady Theresa. Arthur didn’t seem affected in the slightest by her mesmerising eyes.

“Of course you were, you’ve haven’t seen him trying to fit armour at dawn.” Arthur bowed more out of duty than want, Merlin could see that in the tension of his shoulders and the almost frown on his brow. Theresa curtsied but her attention was still on him, not Arthur. “I do apologise my lady, I do actually need this buffoon.”

“Of course, sire,” Theresa smiled and curtsied again before taking a path out of the room.

“You didn’t need to be such a git,” Merlin said, anger tingeing his voice, his mind finally clearing.

“And you don’t need to throw yourself at the first prospect of a shag,” Arthur said under his breath as he walked back to his seat, he gestured for Merlin to follow him. Arthur shooed away the people that had gathered around his seat, Merlin felt suddenly meek against the strength that seemed to be rolling off Arthur as he leaned back into his chair. “You can stay here, where I can see you and make sure you’re not embarrassing me.”

“Gee, thanks Arthur,” Merlin scoffed and Arthur turned to him, giving him an insufferable smirk, “You’re welcome Merlin.”

***

“Sorceress!” Paige demanded as she walked through the darkened cave, her skirts swishing about her in a flurry of colour.

Nimueh sat by a water basin, her hand skimming the surface of the water, her gaze flickered up to Paige, “What is it?”

“The boy, the warlock, he shows interest but it’s not enough,” Paige stared Nimueh down until the other woman stood, bringing her cloak tighter around her.

“He is just cautious,” Nimueh replied, “He is aware of the presence of magic more than others, even those like him.”

Paige rolled her eyes, “Yes, he may be cautious as you say but he is still male is he not? His interest should be more than it is.”

“Maybe Theresa is not what he wants,” Nimueh reasoned but Paige’s eyes narrowed faster than humanly possible.

“We looked into his mind, we saw what he yearns for.”

Nimueh turned and dipped her hand into the pool of water, “Your gifts are exceptional…” Slowly, the water changed, swirling and clouding until it showed a clear image of the prince on it’s surface, “…but inaccurate.”

Paige glared for a moment at Nimueh until she succumbed and allowed herself to look into the pool that Nimueh spent a great deal of her time at. In it was the warlock and the prince, sitting side by side, laughing and joking as Merlin pointed out one of the Earls had split his trousers dancing so vigorously.

“This means nothing sorceress, a close friendship is not uncommon.” Paige waved her hand, as if to dismiss all the evidence in front of her.

“Tell me, what did you see when you were in the mind of the prince, what does he dream at night?”

***

Given simple bodies, dressed in simple cloth, Paige as she was now known sat across from the prince as he slumbered. Her sister was probably doing the exact same thing in the room of the warlock, studying him, assessing him, finding the best way to invade his mind without his knowledge. Biting her lip, Paige stared at her hands, it had been so long since she had hands to perform this task.

Silently, she pulled back the curtain that shielded Arthur as he slept, quietly Paige marvelled at the beauty of the sleeping prince. “The gods favoured you much did they not…”

As softly as she could, Paige pressed her fingertips to either side of Arthur’s temples, allowing herself to be overcome with the thoughts in his mind. Many of them flickered by too fast for her to catch. But the impression was clear, many of his thoughts revolved around someone with dark hair, as black as a raven’s wing and eyes as gold as the sun. Paige could feel through Arthur, slender arms under his big hands, his lust barely caged within his skin. It pained him to even be near the person, but still as she searched, she could not gain purchase on an image of the person who dominated his thoughts, it was like a haze surrounded their identity, protecting them from her will.

Slowly a different set of images washed over her, a beauty wrapped in jewels and finery bowing in front of him with an ease and grace that she was born into. It was not the same person as before, Paige knew that but she also knew that she could gain no more from the prince without waking him.

Gently, she withdrew from his mind and allowed her shape to bend and bind into what she believed was his heart’s desire…

***

“I saw what you see before you, sorceress,” Paige said indignantly.

Nimueh laughed but it was cold and bitter, “Yes and how many maidens do you know with golden eyes?”

“Do not mock me witch, I will have your head before you could blink,” Paige snarled, her anger rising.

Nimueh stared at her calmly, “Check with your sister, ask her what she saw and then return to me.”

“We are not your dogs,” Paige replied through gritted teeth.

“No, but I brought you here, I can just as easily send you back.” Nimueh’s tone had not warmed one inch from her cold bitter laugh.

***

The party had continued for a good two hours after the newest guests had left. Almost strapped to Arthur’s side, Merlin had watched as the prince pretty much immersed himself in a quarter barrel of mulled wine with little food to line his stomach. Trying to direct Arthur to his chambers was harder than any spell he had yet to name. Stumbling inappropriately down the corridor, they had managed to get to Arthur’s rooms with little trouble. Though cook would probably want to try and poison Arthur some time later this week.

Merlin frowned as Arthur chucked his tunic in his direction and with perfect aim, hit Merlin straight in the face. Catching it in his hands, Merlin folded it neatly and placed it over the back of the chair to his right.

“Take my sword off,” Arthur demanded as poured himself a glass of wine.

“I don’t see why you even decided to take the bloody thing,” Merlin grumbled as he stood by Arthur‘s side, entrapping the sheath from Arthur‘s waist.

“Because, I should always be prepared for any situation.” Arthur said angrily as he gulped down some of the wine.

Merlin raised his eyebrows and muttered to himself, “Penis extension if you ask me.”

“What did you say?” Arthur asked, turning quickly, so quickly, his sword dropped out of Merlin’s hands. “Jesus, Merlin, is there anything you can do without screwing up?”

Standing perfectly still, Merlin glared at Arthur, “Yes, a great many things but I wouldn’t want to scare you with such intelligence, you may never recover.”

Arthur scowled, knowing full well that Merlin was saying he wasn’t as smart as him, “Book smarts aren’t everything, reciting the elements won’t stop someone from bashing your head in.”

“No, but it might just stop you from getting into that situation in the first place,” Merlin replied rather smugly.

“Yeah well, I’ll remember how you spend your time between the covers of a book when I’m spending my time between a wench’s legs,” Arthur threw back, suddenly Merlin didn’t look as smug but more a beet red and Arthur’s face slackened, his face a picture of shock. “I shouldn’t have of said…”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Merlin coughed to cover his discomfort.

“Merlin, that’s not what I meant,” Arthur’s own face began to flush as he took another large draw from his wine goblet.

“See, Arthur, you’re intoxicated, you don’t know what you mean,” Merlin rambled, unaware of how Arthur’s eyes were drinking him in. When he looked up, Merlin bit his lip from making a sound from how debauched the prince looked in that moment, hair ruffled, skin pink from heat and his mouth stained crimson from the wine. Suddenly, Arthur’s chest was too bare, too naked to Merlin’s eyes as he glanced Arthur up and down before trying to find a fix point on the wall.

“You’re so tempting when you’re trying to resist me,” Arthur chuckled but it was husky and deep, Merlin gulped.

“I - I don’t know what you mean,” Merlin squeaked.

“Defiance is something so hard to come by,” Arthur said to himself, or at least that’s what Merlin decided. Merlin realised he was suddenly walking a very fine edge with the now obviously inebriated Arthur, too much pressure and he could lose his head, not enough pressure and he’d never find out what Arthur really thought about him, his thoughts were tighter than the fort around Camelot.

“Arthur, you spend half your time telling me I’m the most idiotic idiot that ever happened upon Camelot,” Merlin said, his voice raised with incredulousness.

Arthur laughed, “Then you retaliate with I’m the most arrogant prat to ever grace the throne.”

“Exactly, our dislike is legendary,” Merlin grasped pathetically.

“I don’t dislike you Merlin,” Arthur said, his voice calling him with the words he didn’t say. Merlin was shocked when he felt Arthur’s hand in his hair, his thumb brushing back and forth across his ear. Unable to contain the shivers, Merlin closed his eyes and leaned into the touch before pulling away abruptly.

“What?” Arthur asked, his eyes looking heavy as they half closed with the secret part of Merlin had hoped was desire.

“Arthur, you’re tired, drunk…” Merlin couldn’t stop the squeak of surprise as he was pulled flush against Arthur, his hips being gripped tightly, pressing into Arthur‘s own. The prince leaned his head on Merlin’s shoulder, “…and quite obviously a bit horny.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” Arthur replied, his breath fanning out over Merlin’s throat as he leaned closer, his nose pressed up to the hollow he seemed to find fascinating.

It is if I like my head where it is, Merlin sighed, “Arthur.”

Another little shock as soft lips pressed against his own, Arthur’s hand cupping the back of his head, as if to hold him there. When Merlin mouth didn’t automatically respond to Arthur’s, the prince pulled back, his handsome face contorted into a frown. Merlin took the opportunity to take a step back, not realising Arthur was still holding on to his arm and the two tumbled onto the floor.

Arthur started to laugh, his face pressed against Merlin’s stomach, “How did I ever expect that sex with you wouldn’t involve some sort of cocking up.”

Merlin tried to ignore the warmth that was spreading in his belly, unsure whether it came from him or Arthur. Pulling himself up on to his elbows, he frowned, “What?”

Between his legs, Arthur rolled onto his side, his head leaning back against the inside of Merlin’s thigh as he looked up at him, blue eyes twinkling, a smirk playing out on his lips, “I should have known it was beyond…”

“Beyond?! Sire, I assure you I have sex quite well!” Merlin flushed almost instantaneously. The glittering amusement in Arthur’s eyes was replaced with a dark smouldering that Merlin couldn’t look away from even if he wanted to.

“How many?” Arthur asked as he raised himself up to his knees, Merlin tried to sit further up but Arthur halted him. Merlin bit his lip until it was red, but still Arthur looked at him expectantly. Arthur put a hand either side of Merlin’s chest, leaning over him, his face over his. “How many Merlin?”

The silence was deafening, “The sorcerer.”

Merlin turned his head aside, shame for his lies weighing heavy on his heart, “His name was Will.”

“Did you love him?” Arthur asked as his mouth pressed hot against his chest, where his neck scarf didn’t quite meet his shirt and then Arthur untied the scarf and threw it somewhere behind him. Merlin wanted to lie, he wanted to say no, that Arthur was the only one who had touched his heart.

“Yes.”

Warm hands pushed up his tunic, pressing hot, wet kisses to his flesh, some harder than others and most would definitely leave a mark. Blindly, Merlin reached for Arthur’s shoulder, grasping firmly the muscle of Arthur’s bicep, pulling him back up to face him. Arthur gave him a lopsided grin, as he looked utterly pleased with himself.

“I could get hanged for this,” Merlin said seriously, knowing if he left it any longer, the burning of his skin would ensure that he didn’t speak for hours to come.

Arthur cocked an eyebrow, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

“You’re so cheesy… prat.” Merlin laughed but Arthur kissed him again, more a slant of his mouth over Merlin’s, biting, tasting and drawing everything from that one kiss. Breathless, Merlin hissed out a groan when he felt fingers brushing over the laces of his trousers.

“Cheesy? Hardly, I’m the prince of seduction,” Arthur said proudly, as he pushed Merlin’s trousers off his hips before he pulled his down as far as they would go without moving further away than necessary. Arthur laid back down between Merlin’s thighs and at the contact, Merlin bucked his body upwards, “Some are easier than others.”

“Yeah maybe that’s because some are slower than others,” Merlin grunted as he squirmed under the weight and heat of Arthur.

“Well, hold still before you hurt something,” Arthur replied as he unceremoniously spat on his fingers and Merlin felt them pressing against him, then into him. Screwing his eyes shut, Merlin let his chest heavy as he pulled in a breath. Arthur’s other hand was on his hip, steadying himself and rubbing gently against the soft skin there. Arthur leaned forward to kiss Merlin and incidentally drove his fingers further into Merlin’s body. Merlin, in much of the same fashion as Arthur, cupped his hand around his neck and messily pressed his mouth to Arthur’s. Slowly, he felt the fingers being eased out of his body and replaced with Arthur’s straining erection.

Merlin clenched his teeth as he tried to relax, his body tensing to the intrusion, Arthur faired no better above him, his hair plastered to his forehead as he held himself up on his arms. Trying to ease some of the tightness, Merlin pulled his legs up, his knees knocking either side of Arthur’s hips. But all the movement did was force Arthur to jerk forward, sending shock waves of pain and pleasure through Merlin’s groin. Arthur let out a breathy curse as he stilled for a moment, then he slowly began to move, his body dragging sensations out of Merlin’s with every draw.

The pain that was burning in Merlin’s belly seemed to fan out, warming him and stoking his already white hot need. As Arthur leaned down, changing his angle, Merlin kissed Arthur’s neck, biting down to his collarbone. Arthur groaned as his body began to jerk sporadically, hitting a warm yielding spot inside of Merlin. Merlin was suddenly on a ledge he couldn’t quite see the edge of but Arthur kept moving, as if he didn’t want to give up the friction he had discovered and the ledge got closer. Merlin only began falling when Arthur’s hand palmed him between their sweaty bodies, two quick tugs and he was anybody’s.

Or in this case; Arthur’s.

Arthur finally collapsed on to Merlin, either too tired or too ignorant of the mess between them. Merlin sighed as he gently pushed Arthur off him. Walking over to the basin he wetted a cloth and cleaned himself up and then Arthur, who did not stir in the whole process. Pulling on his clothes, Merlin tried to look at Arthur as little as possible, knowing that at any moment the prince could awaken and call for his guard and at least make Merlin have a stay in the stocks because it amused him.

“Arthur?” Merlin whispered as he tried to get Arthur off the floor and into his bed. Arthur remained comatose on the floor. Merlin frowned as he closed his eyes, when they opened they were glowing gold with the magic that flowed through his body. Slowly, Merlin pulled back the blankets of Arthur’s bed and laid the prince on top of them. Quickly, he pulled Arthur’s boots and hose off before struggling to get his nightshirt over his head.

Worry gripped Merlin, the whole way through the redressing Arthur had barely moved. Though Merlin could feel and hear the steady and strong thump-thump of Arthur’s heart, he reached out and poked Arthur in the bicep. Arthur waved his hand, almost hitting Merlin in the gut before he cursed under his breath.

He’s going to have a terrible hangover tomorrow, Merlin decided before he slipped out of Arthur’s chambers and headed back to Gaius’ rooms.

***

Arthur rolled over in bed the next morning, his eyes bleary as a maid opened his curtains, letting in the sunlight.

“Urgh,” Arthur grunted as he tried to sit up.

“Sire, your breakfast is ready,” The maid curtsied and left the room. Arthur doubted he would ever eat again, his head hurt so bad and his stomach felt so tender. Rubbing a hand over his face and then his neck, Arthur noted that his neck was tender also. Decidedly so.

Swinging his legs out of bed, Arthur approached his cabinet and pulled a mirror from it. He examined his neck which was purple with bruises and… teeth marks. Probing the flesh gently, Arthur winced as pain jolted through him. Returning the mirror to it’s place, Arthur turned and pulled off his nightshirt before proceeding to the tub which should have been heated for him. As he walked he felt something under his foot. Looking down, he frowned as he picked up what he recognised as Merlin’s neck scarf.

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted, knowing that his forgetful manservant would or should be in the vicinity.

***

Merlin heard Arthur shout but it couldn’t have made him move any faster, he was sore -- everywhere. He was currently wearing another neck scarf after losing his other last night and a tunic that covered most of the bruising Arthur had given him.

“My lord?” Merlin said as he gingerly opened the door to Arthur’s chambers. He was greeted with the naked back of the prince, sleek and powerful but also taut and ready for action. Blinking twice, Merlin noted the little scratched and indentations he must have left last night, his blush was quick and hot under his skin. Luckily Arthur had pulled on some hose otherwise Merlin could not even look at him.

“Explain this to me,” Arthur said, his hand waving Merlin’s neck scarf his hand.

Merlin bit his lip, he didn’t want to embarrass Arthur or implicate himself so he lied, “It’s, uh, nothing. I must have forgotten it, it did get rather hot last night.”

“Really?” Arthur said as if he was curious, he turned, his eyes narrowing almost instantly, “What are those?”

Merlin felt his legs tremble, “What are what, sire?”

“Those,” Arthur pointed to the space where his tunic didn’t meet his neck scarf, the bruises were incriminating against his pale skin.

“Those? Oh well, we, uh -- got into a fight. Yeah, on the way back to your chambers last night,” Merlin shook his head in a yes gesture but Arthur’s face changed, a look of pure anger on his face.

Arthur clearly wasn‘t buying it as his hands grabbed the collar of Merlin’s tunic, pushing him back against the bedpost. Arthur pinned Merlin under his throat, his voice low, “Don’t lie to me.”

What was he supposed to say; Well you got drunk and had me on the floor of your chambers. “It was nothing.”

“It’s obviously not nothing,” Arthur gritted, his grip easing only the slightest, “How far do they go down?”

Merlin raised his eyebrows, Arthur closed his eyes, his jaw showing how tense he was. “Leave.”

“What?” Merlin looked at him, shocked.

“I said…”

“I heard you.” Merlin said, his flush was no longer for his embarrassment but his rejection. What else did I expect? He’s Arthur.

“Merlin…” Arthur sounded almost…sad.

“Sire.” Merlin said pointedly, Arthur faced Merlin sharply but didn’t say anything and the silence was more painful that if he had.

Turning towards the door, Merlin barely caught Arthur’s reply, “I’m the prince.”

As if that absolved him of all guilt and sin, but it didn’t. “No, today Arthur, you’re not to me…” Merlin sighed, he was a fill in the adjective. Merlin was just glad that Arthur wasn’t forcing his will on him, forcing him to stay in his presence.

Merlin opened the door finally, before he left he said four simple words that destroyed everything, “I won’t be back.”

‘The broken locks were a warning you got inside my head,
I tried my best to be guarded, I'm an open book instead,
I still see your reflection inside of my eyes,
That are looking for a purpose, they're still looking for life.’

Merlin: Untouched [1/1]

Sun, 07 Dec 2008 06:47:16 GMT

Title: Untouched
Author: Rae
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Arthur, Merlin, Morgana, Uther and Merlin/Arthur.
Warnings/Spoilers: Man sexing and general series spoilers; nothing suspenseful.
Disclaimer: BBC is God. I am making no profit and have not or will not claim to own these characters.
Summary: Arthur wants Merlin, fine. Only Arthur’s not really sure how he should have Merlin.
Author Notes: Virgin!Arthur and Experienced!Merlin for the Kink Meme. Unbeta’d.
Word Count: 2,213

***

Arthur was convinced Merlin wanted him. With all the sly glances and innuendo that went on around them it was obvious that either Arthur was imagining the whole thing (which princes do not do) or he was going to burst from the layers of sexual tension.

Arthur watched carefully as Merlin poured his wine into his goblet that evening, his manservant’s neck unbearably bare without his usual neck tie perpetually wrapped around his pale throat. Clearly, the prince could see where Merlin’s dark hair curled against his neck, the black in complete contrast with his skin in such a way that seemed to be magnetising Arthur to him.

“Sire?” Pale pink lips asked him. They were full and lush naturally, Arthur sidetracked himself with what they would like full and flush with passion.

“Hmm?” Arthur mumbled incoherently into his cup.

“Are you alright? You seem out of sorts,” Merlin said as he looked around the room, completely unaware of Arthur’s discomfort. That’s why he’s a crap manservant, he has no idea what I need, Arthur groused before his mind almost immediately fell into the nearest gutter.

Considering his complete ambivalence, Arthur was in his own world when his father returned to his seat next to him. Uther Pendragon was, if there was such a man, truly born for the throne, he held himself with a kind of grace Arthur had failed to learn. His guidance held a wisdom Arthur feared he would never know.

“Arthur,” Uther said in a proud voice, more for show than Arthur’s benefit. “Why don’t you dance? You look so…sullen here by yourself.”

Arthur tried to ignore the slant but he couldn’t. Since being crowned as the official heir of Camelot his father had been pushing him in every direction of every eligible lady in Albion. None held his interest, not like Merlin. Speaking of, he was standing by Gwen, laughing a little too happily as she made a gestures with her hand.

“Fine, Father.” Arthur replied, spying Morgana taking a turn about the room with several ladies. She looked as completely bored as he must have.

***

“Lady Morgana,” Arthur said with great affection and a bow as he approached the harem, at least two of the women swooned at the sight of him.

“My lord,” Morgana nodded and curtsied, head bowed showing off something that glittered in her dark hair.

Arthur looked back at his father and clicked his tongue, “It would be an honour if you would dance the next dance with me.”

The sighs could have been queued by someone behind a curtain. Morgana was not fazed as she looked at Uther, who seemed to be smiling at the two of them, “Of course, my lord.”

Taking her smaller hand in his, Arthur walked back to where the majority of couples were moving about the floor. With a hand at Morgana’s waist and hands clasped tight, Arthur took a step forward leading Morgana in the waltz.

“Arthur, what are you doing?” Morgana laughed under her breath. “You hate dancing.”

“My father would see me dance,” Arthur said stiffly, not really wanting to breach the topic further as he spun Morgana, he caught glance of Merlin coming out of the kitchen with more wine.

“Maybe you want to wield that sword somewhere else, Arthur,” Morgana teased as Arthur looked down, his dress sword nowhere near poking her. What she was actually referring to was his growing erection that had not calmed since Merlin had leaned over him all but 5 minutes ago. Had Arthur been brought up any other way he could have blushed bright crimson but he held his composure as Morgana continued to smile at him knowingly.

“Didn’t know he was your type,” Morgana added as Arthur dipped her in his arms. As she leaned back, her dark hair falling about her, Arthur was sorely tempted to drop her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Arthur said through gritted teeth, pulling Morgana back up into the circle of his arms.

“Go, before you spill over something like an untried school boy,” Morgana threw back at him. Arthur couldn’t stop his face from appearing shocked at Morgana’s words. She lead him back off the dance floor and pushed him in Merlin’s direction. It wasn’t what she had said exactly but more the fact she had read him like an open book. Sure, Arthur had taken a few fumblings with a few maids that had come and gone at the insistence of his father. But he wasn’t well versed in…men. A few stolen kisses but nothing to write home about and never really wanting more than that Arthur had felt adequate with his knowledge; until now.

Now he wanted to take Merlin to his bed and fuck him senseless, only he didn’t know how. Well I gather how, Arthur thought, testily. Finally, his mind came too and realised he had been ambling about the room aimlessly and ended up next to Merlin.

“Arthur,” Merlin said cheerfully.

Would it be too much if I said Merlin, take me to my room and bend me over? Arthur mused as Merlin brought back his wine that he knew the other boy would have been watching intently. No use if I’m dead before we’ve started.

Taking a gulp, Arthur handed it back to Merlin who placed it on a table next to them. Arthur announced, “I’m tired.”

“Shall I go tell your father?” Merlin said with a gesture towards the king. Arthur looked over at his father and then at Morgana who winked at him.

“No, lets go.” Arthur said quickly, grabbing Merlin by the elbow and almost running to his room.

***

Arthur opened the doors to his chambers and threw his coat over the table as he turned around to face Merlin, Merlin smiled back at him innocently. What am I thinking? He’s barely out of the cradle, Arthur shook his head. When he looked back, Merlin was biting his lip, almost chewing on it as he looked at Arthur expectantly.

“Arthur…”

It took a moment for it to actually register with Arthur that Merlin spoke. “Hmm?”

“Would you mind very much if I kissed you?” Merlin asked hesitantly, “You see you’ve had this look all night…”

Look? Oh god he’s noticed…wait, did he mention kissing? Arthur blinked, “What look?”

“One that was begging to be kissed,” Merlin whispered huskily, his lips slanting over Arthur’s. A little groan escaped Arthur, his hands grasping Merlin’s waist as he leaned into the younger man for more. All it took for Merlin to open his mouth and his tongue licking the seam of Arthur’s mouth to cause him to grind against him, his movements jerking and unsteady.

Merlin pulled away, breathing heavily, “Uh, I’m…I didn’t.”

“You didn’t what? Mean to kiss me?” Arthur grinned as he nuzzled Merlin’s neck, a little moan reached his ears.

“It seemed like something you…wanted.” Merlin gulped and Arthur felt it as he kissed down Merlin’s throat.

It was, now can there be sex? Arthur thought, his brain slowly dissolving into mush. “Merlin, I’m glad you kissed me.”

“Really?” Merlin sound pleased, Arthur hummed happily which caused his lips to do something against Merlin’s chest that caused another moan.

“Yes, I’d like if you…continued,” Arthur said cautiously, his face pulling away to see Merlin’s. Merlin licked his lips, his pink tongue barely there before it was gone again. Arthur could have come right there.

After that it was a bit clash of the titans as Arthur pulled his tunic off, pushed Merlin’s up off his stomach, not caring where it ended up after that. The laces on Merlin’s breeches proved more of a problem, they seemed to be tied in double knots. Throwing his hands up in frustration, Arthur stalked his way to the bed. He pulled his boots off, pretending that he was annoyed at being defeated by a piece of string.

Looking up, he saw Merlin untying the string with ease as he slowly pulled his breeches down his hips slightly. Slowly, he walked to join Arthur, standing between Arthur’s open thighs. Merlin’s warm palm grazed the inside of his thigh and suddenly, Arthur was very aware of how inexperienced he was.

Merlin must have seen the fear in Arthur’s eyes as he stilled and asked, “Arthur? Do you still…?”

Arthur bit his lip, his mind racing, could he actually get away with this without Merlin realising? Probably not. But then again, it’s not like you can stick in the wrong hole.

Arthur was a man of honour, which often meant honesty, “I’ve…never done this.”

“You’re a-” Merlin said quietly.

“Don’t you dare laugh at me or I’ll-” Arthur was cut off by Merlin pressing a hard kiss to his mouth before he walked over to one of Arthur’s cupboards. Opening one of them, he pulled out a vial Arthur recognised as some kind of oil.

“It’ll be easier if you bottom,” Merlin murmured, Arthur cocked an eyebrow but Merlin kissed him again, his tongue sliding into Arthur’s mouth. Arthur felt himself being pushed back onto the bed, Merlin resting between his thighs, groins pressed together tightly. It was strange feeling another man’s hardness against his own but it wasn’t unpleasant, it became decidedly so when Merlin rolled his hips, sending little bolts of electricity through Arthur.

Arthur managed to get his hand down the back of Merlin’s trousers, his fingers digging into Merlin’s arse as he continued to rut against him. Merlin pulled away from Arthur, sucking in a breath as they pressed their foreheads together, leaning on each other for support. Merlin licked his lips again before pulling his breeches all the way off and his fingers hesitantly waiting on top of Arthur’s own.

Shifting his hips, they flicked up against Merlin’s hand, Merlin looked almost like his eyes had glazed over before he got them down around Arthur’s knees. Quickly, they managed to get them off completely and Merlin was back on top of Arthur, still creating a gentle friction. Experimentally, Arthur closed his hand around both of their erections, Merlin hissing between his teeth at the contact and began to pump his hand over their sensitive flesh.

“Arthur,” Merlin moaned against his chest, his mouth leaving wet kisses in its wake. Arthur let his thumb run over both heads, applying a bit of pressure, just how he liked it. Merlin bit his lip against, probably to stop himself from cursing. Merlin stilled Arthur’s hand, “Turn over.”

Arthur looked at him for a moment, confused. Merlin grabbed one of his pillows as Arthur finally consented. Arthur grunted as Merlin put the pillow under him, his hand brushing against his cock. Arthur felt Merlin’s hands on his arse, petting it, almost possessively, “You’ve got a great arse, Arthur.”

Arthur, ridiculously, flushed with pride until he felt a finger at his entrance. His body tensed almost immediately, Merlin gave him another pat, “You need to relax.”

“Relax? You’re about to put your finger--” Arthur stopped as Merlin slowly breeched him, one finger entering his other hand stroking him soothingly. Arthur felt Merlin lean down to place kisses on his back, tracing his way from the top to the bottom of his spine. When Merlin bit him right above his arse he wasn’t prepared so he sent himself bucking into the pillow but it didn’t cause him the pain he had expected, he found liked the slight tightness his body was producing. Arthur felt Merlin withdraw his finger and begin again with his cock, slowly, pushing through Arthur’s resistance.

Arthur pressed his face into his bed, trying to cover the whimpers that seemed intent on escaping him. Halfway through, they had to stop, Arthur’s body closing up but as they began again, Merlin went even slower to Arthur’s dismay.

If he doesn’t hurry up, I’m starting without him and fucking this pillow, Arthur thought temperamentally.

“Harder,” Arthur caved eventually, his body crying out for some sort of friction. Another soft kiss pressed to the back of his neck, where his hair was no doubt curling with sweat and Merlin began to move; slowly at first, drawing out Arthur’s pleasure and then harder as he gained purchase on the bed until he was bucking his body against Arthur’s.

Arthur was a mess, his body was blanketed under Merlin, unable to escape the sensations that were being force on him, and in this position Merlin was hitting something deep inside him that seemed to push the wall of pleasure higher in him until he was jerking and coming under Merlin. Arthur felt hands on his hips as Merlin held on to him as he was overcome with his own orgasm, his body moving erratically inside of Arthur, then he collapsed in a heap on top of him.

***

“Am I supposed to be this sore?” Arthur grumbled as he rolled over on to his back the next morning.

“Yes.” Merlin explained.

“Why?” Arthur asked as he brushed his fingers over Merlin’s ribs.

“Otherwise you’re doing it wrong,” Merlin winked.

“I don’t know, it didn’t seem very right to me,” Arthur mused, “Maybe I need to do it to you to make sure.”

Merlin nodded, “Of course. Wouldn’t want to be wrong now would we?”

Merlin: All hail the Prince - Prologue [0/?]

Sun, 07 Dec 2008 02:44:29 GMT

Title: All hail the Prince [0/?]
Author: Rae autumnrae89
Rating: G then eventual NC-17
Characters/Pairings: cast and Merlin/Arthur.
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for the series in general.
Disclaimer: BBC owned Merlin, I just borrowed them therefore I'm not being paid and shouldn't be sued.
Summary: Life was very different for Arthur Pendragon in a world where magic is revered and strength frowned upon. But in search of a better life in Camolet Arthur really wonders if it should be all hail the Prince?
Author Notes: Prince!Merlin and Servant!Arthur for the Kink Meme and my apparent porn twin, you know who you are. ;) Also unbeta'd but will be in the coming chapters.
Word Count: 400-ish.

***

Coming to Camelot was a bad idea, Arthur decided as his eyes flickered up towards the expansive castle. It wasn’t a place for someone like him, where his skill was held in his hands and his body not in magic. Magic was rife here in Camelot and freely encouraged but it was a scary thing for those who didn’t or couldn’t practise it, they had no real way of defending themselves from a sorcerers attack.

It was then that Arthur wasn’t looking and he bumped straight into another man, stumbling slightly, Arthur apologised quickly only to be met with an ignorant back. Gritting his teeth, Arthur tapped on the shoulder of the other man, noticing how small he was compared to himself, he was almost pitiful.

“It’s rude to ignore another man’s apology. Have you no manners?” Arthur said as he folded his arms.

Dark hair in disarray over blue eyes, a mouth curved into a smirk, sarcasm heavy in the air, “Really? However can I make it up to you?”

Arthur felt his own lips curl into a look of distaste, “Oh no, I wouldn’t want to bother someone as slight as yourself with such a burden.”

Blue eyes narrowed with a flash of gold, “Speak your mind, peasant.”

“Peasant? Oh, I didn’t know I was speaking to a lord,” Arthur chuckled as he mock bowed, “Even more so that you should return to your father and contemplate what real hard work looks like.”

“Actually, it’s your highness,” The smirk fell and a look of scorn replaced it. Arthur held his ground as he realised the dark haired boy was Merlin Emrys, son of Queen Hunith, prince in training to become king.

“Well, sire, as I said before, please forgive me.” Arthur bowed awkwardly. The prince must have seen how much he loathed to do it on Arthur’s face as a wide grin spread on his own.

“What’s your name?” Merlin asked, his eyes scanning Arthur’s face.

“Arthur.” Arthur said begrudgingly, “Arthur Pendragon.”

Merlin nodded, his hand raised as if to gesture someone over, Arthur looked back as he felt two hands on each arm. “Welcome to Camelot, Arthur Pendragon; oh, and do enjoy your stay in the stocks.”

Supernatural: From a Whisper to a Scream [1/1]

Thu, 30 Oct 2008 23:51:42 GMT

Title: From a whisper to a scream. [1/1]
Author: Rae
Rating: PG-13 for liberal use of the f-word.
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Dean, gen. Can be read with a Sam/Dean slant.
Warnings/Spoilers: Set in 4x04 but goes AU.
Disclaimer: This work is a piece of complete fiction, all characters are property of the CW and Kripke.
Summary: To be honest, Sam was a little more pissed than he said about Dean’s attitude about the demon exorcism revelation. Or was he?
Author’s notes: First Supernatural fiction written with my partner in squee, K ( credulesque), in mind.
Word Count: 1,506

***

It was going to be one of those nights, Sam could tell. One where he’d be clutching at his beer bottle in a vain attempt not to tell his brother exactly what he thought of him, them, the whole fucked up situation. Dean just didn’t understand, what having these powers meant. For him it was something to fix, like if the impala blew a gasket, just tune it up and it would be good as new. Sam wouldn’t be new, he wouldn’t be fixed. Not now, maybe not ever.

“Geez, Sammy, who died?” Dean asked him, a cock sure grin spreading easily over familiar features. Sam didn’t even bother to reply as he watched Dean pull various things from his rucksack, clean shirt, clean jeans and… a box Sam didn’t even want to think about. “So you wanna grab something to eat tonight or are you going to pout some more?”

Sam shook his head, his mood darkening by the minute. Fuck this, fuck you Dean. “Sure, whatever.”

Dean nodded, “Okay…” Dean’s tone suggested that he wanted Sam to explain himself but Sam wasn’t about to give in.

“Yeah, I’ll be in the car.” Sam stood up, his body rigid and tense as he walked over to his side of the room to grab his jacket. Rolling his shoulders as he pulled the jacket over his arms, Sam felt a few kinks loosen in his tense shoulders. He could almost feel Dean’s eyes burning holes into his back but he shrugged them off.

Let him look. Sam turned, his body still stiff and now anger rolling off him in waves, “Hurry up, yeah.”

Another nod, more unspoken words that a Greek tragedy, Sam pulled the door open and slammed it closed. The cool air from the air conditioning blew lightly on his face, almost like a caress but it held no attraction for him as he stormed down the hallway towards the stairs. There was a roll of primal satisfaction for Sam as the people in the motel seemed to back away from Sam on his approach. They were scared, scared of the power he had.

Power that doesn’t mean anything to Dean. Truth was it meant a lot, it meant they were different, that they weren’t the same. Growing up the way they did, the two brothers were pretty much in each others back pocket for 95% of the time. It promoted their comfortable relationship in close quarters but it had bred a sort of discontent, at least for Sam. He had wanted more for his life, he had wanted normal. But it turns out that would be the only thing forever denied to him. Not the only thing. Sam didn’t go there, he liked his place of denial, no reason for him to seek the real source of his anger and intrepid moods.

Sam flexed his fingers, curling them and uncurling them, watching the veins move underneath his skin. He thought about Dean’s hands, one’s he knew as well as his own, but in his veins there was no poison. No demon blood determined to strip him of his humanity and oust him from the vague semblance of life he had. Then Sam thought about the hand print, seared into Dean’s skin where he had literally been touched by an angel. Why did Dean have to be the saviour? Didn’t God think Sam was good enough? Or was it Dean had something he didn’t. Sam cared more about the people they saved, tried to save, he put more effort into finding out the history of the things they hunted but still he was being shunned.

Working twice as hard to be fucked over twice as easy. Sam smiled darkly to himself as he could almost hear his brother’s words as if he stood next to him, You’re not even getting screwed in the sexy way.

“Is she hot?” Dean asked, interrupting Sam’s thoughts.

Sam glared, “What?”

“You, you looked like you’re thinking about getting laid.” Dean raised his eyebrows as if to suggest…something. Then his face turned serious for a moment, “Oh wait I forgot this was you. How goes it in the nunnery?”

“You want to get something to eat or what?” Sam said, his teeth gritting as he forced himself to walk beside Dean, his back immediately up because of Dean’s teasing. Dean slapped his palm between Sam’s shoulder blades but pulled it back as if he had been burnt when Sam emitted a growl under his breath.

“Something bothering you?” Dean asked, almost tentative.

“No.”

Dean looked at Sam, incredulously, “Bullshit, little brother.”

Sam stopped dead in the hallway, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Dean mimicked and Sam gritted his teeth again.

“Fine, I don’t want to talk about it with you.” Sam corrected, folding his arms over his broad chest.

“What?”

Sam was on a roll, it felt good to be angry at Dean, to tell him exactly what he thought. “You heard me. Jesus, Dean I don’t have to share every goddamn thing with you.”

“You want to back it up there…” Dean bit out, his face darkening with the same kind of anger that seemed to be constant in Sam.

Sam threw up his hands and headed towards the elevator, “Forget this.”

Dean walked after him, grabbing his arm, Sam tried to shake it off, “You opened this can of worms, you fucking finish it.”

“Fuck. You.” Sam rarely swore. Dean did on occasion but Sam, it just wasn’t in his nature. The tension between the brothers was palpable, like one false move and the motel would be in flames. Maybe it really will, who knows, with my powers. But Sam was sick of walking around pretending he was okay with his brother’s attitude, his patronising tone, well, enough is enough.

Sam turned that same hand he was staring at previously into a fist that connected with a whack into Dean’s face. Dean pulled his head up, blood just beginning to seep out of his nose, and glared hard at Sam, his fingers dropping from Sam’s bicep. For a moment, Sam stood rigid again, almost waiting for Dean to retaliate, but nothing happened. Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a way of distracting himself from the silence that now deafened him. Sam was no stranger to the silent treatment, their father had employed it many times over the years, especially when Sam had finally decided to leave for Stanford. In a way it had helped him distance himself from his father and eventually because of it, Dean. But he couldn’t take it from Dean himself, he was so used to the inane little comments his brother would make for no reason other than to hear his own voice, without them his world seemed even more off kilter.

See -- see how every thing has changed. You’re fighting, Dean isn’t speaking to you. But you still won’t blame yourself for your own fuck ups.

Turning on his heel, Sam continued down the corridor silently, swinging open the door to the stairs. Now part of him screaming for Dean to come after him but he wouldn’t, maybe even couldn’t. The playing field between them was too different now, too altered by Sam’s abilities and Dean’s death and subsequent resurrection. Every part of Sam was telling him to leave, that both of them would be better off if they separated. You know what’s coming. You know you can’t fight it, so why let Dean fight it too? The answer was already in Sam’s mind, He’s my brother.

Getting as far as five stairs down, Sam made up his mind to go back to his room but instead hit the wall of his brother’s body. Sam let out an oomph, Dean grabbed Sam’s shirt to stop him from falling back on the stairs.

“Dean?” Sam said quickly, his hand grasping Dean’s forearm to stabilise himself but more for the comfort of his brother’s presence.

“I know, you’d die without me, Sammy but come on.” Dean’s wide grin belied what would be a large colourful bruise on his brother’s cheek.

Death? When what really happened was so much worse? Sam ignored the thought and returned his brother’s smile. “Yeah, whatever, no chick flick moments alright.”

“Me? Mr-Let’s-Hug.” Dean’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. Sam rolled his eyes, “Hey, Sammy…”

“Yeah?”

Dean‘s face changed, becoming sober, “Whatever that was…you’re over it?”

I wish, Sam sighed, That was just the beginning. “Yeah. Well I’d be less pissed if you picked up your own wet towels.”

“Oh you know you love it.” Dean’s hand pushed the back of Sam’s head forward in a playful gesture. Sam pushed Dean back out of his way as he walked back up the stairs.

From the hall, the maid had seen the whole exchange between the two brothers. Picking up her cell, flicking it open a simple text was sent. Got to try harder.

End.