{AU prompt and special request from springdelirium on Tumblr. Jennifer and Duke meet in a bar a few days before Christmas. An exchange of shitty Christmas pick up lines will ensue. So will some romance. Smut if you're lucky.}
Jennifer trudged tiredly into her favorite pub and gladly accepted a seat at the bar.
Thursday, December 11, 2014
Monday, November 17, 2014
The Holly and the Ivy
She was humming. The way that women do when they are quietly happy or content. He barely remembered his mother doing it when he was a child. Nathan's mother had done it sometimes. Other friends' moms had as well.
Currently, she was humming a tune he also barely remembered as she measured out flour for the cookies she was making.
Duke lowered the newspaper and watched his wife for a moment when the humming lapsed as she re-read the recipe. Every other cookie recipe she seemed to know by heart or was comfortable with winging it. But for some reason, with this recipe, she doubted herself. The recipe her mother had taught her was one that couldn't ever be left to chance. He understood it without being able to name it. All the anxieties and happy expectations, all of the nostalgia for her parents and her dreams of being a parent herself would be expressed in Christmas Ginger Cookies and a thousand other precious traditions that she would share and that the two of them would create together and pass on to the tiny little bump of a baby that was within her now.
She softly sang the next lines of the ancient carole as she began to spoon the dry ingredients into the large mixing bowl of sugars, butter and molasses and spices.
"...the rising of the sun, the running of the deer, the playing of the merry harp and sweet singing in the choir..."
By the time she ended the refrain he was behind her, wrapping himself around her, breathing her in and - for the maybe the millionth time and certainly not the last - settling his hand over her abdomen in his own compulsive gesture of affirmation. That she was real. That they were real. That all was well. If her traditions were to be those of comfort and celebration, his were to be those of protection and preservation. The fear and the violence would never be far enough in the past for him to forget. There would never be a day he wasn't ready to kill to defend her or bring her back.
She looked up at him with a smile as she stirred the forming dough, the song fading again.
"I like that song," he told her.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"It's my favorite," she admitted and began from the beginning, singing quietly, still mixing the dough and letting him sway the two of them back and forth to a slower rhythm.
He would never understand how she could follow his rhythm and maintain her own without effort. It was among the tiniest of her miracles.
As the dough thickened and got more difficult to manage he took over for her and she stepped away to clear some space to roll it out, and set out the Christmas shaped cookie cutters, the song ending as he up-ended the mixing bowl and turned the lump out onto the surface that seemed decorated with swirls of her fingerprints in flour.
He stepped back and leaned against the counter, pinching some dough off and smirking at his height advantage when he raised his hands too high for her to slap at.
"You know any others?" He asked, popping his ill gotten gains in his mouth. It tasted good. A spicy-sweet blend that felt like pulling a warm blanket over yourself in the cold dark. Perfect for a Winter's night.
She smoothed some flour onto the rolling pin and began another carol.
"I saw three ships come sailing in..."
He smiled and watched her work. Her dark hair had grown long and was pulled into a loose knot near the crown of her head. Soft tendrils were constantly escaping in various kinds of curls down her neck, curving along her cheeks until she absentmindedly tucked them behind her ears. Stubborn as the woman they adorned, they always found their way back to her face. He leaned over to kiss her cheek in camaraderie with the unruly curls and this time snagged a freshly cut star to gobble down.
"Duke!" It was equal parts chiding and laughing. "Save some for the actual cookies!"
"I will. I will. Say.... Who do you think is going to be eating these things tonight anyway? I mean... I hate to break it to you..." He feigned trying to struggle with the right words. "I mean, did your parents ever tell you... Did they ever give you the talk about...?"
"About being wary of pirates after my cookies?" She laughed at her own innuendo. "No. I had to discover that danger on my own."
She made a little show of body-blocking him from the cut out pieces of dough as she put them on the parchment lined pan and slipped them into the oven. Her brow furrowed slightly as she set the timer and he waited patiently for what was in her thoughts to come out.
"It's just that, this is our first Christmas together, and the last one we will have as just the two of us. I don't know..."
She looked up at him, willing him to understand that this was like a rehearsal for all the Christmases to come.
"And this Christmas, and the next, and the next are going to beautiful. They don't have to be perfect, they just have to be ours, Jennifer."
She nodded and returned to the remaining cookie dough, getting it ready for its own turn in the oven, beginning another song.
"Have a holly jolly Christma -"
She drew up short and her hands fluttered over her belly.
"Jen? You okay?"
He hated the cold dread that washed over before she turned to look at him with wonder.
"I think I felt a flutter. It's too soon for that though? Isn't it? But I'm pretty sure I felt a flutter."
He shrugged, not giving into the fear but not quite letting it go either, and stepped back toward her.
"You feel okay though, right?" He persisted. If something went wrong with this pregnancy, they would hold each other through it. As long as he had her, he could stand anything. They could try again...
"Duke, I'm fine. I am. I feel great." She took his hand and held it over the little swell in her abdomen and watched him for a reaction. He watched her face for clues as to when he should feel something.
Nothing.
"Maybe try singing again?" He prompted softly. She had done it again. Her bright smile and dark eyes somehow shining enough light and warmth on him to chase away the habitual fear and doubt.
She giggled with sudden and misplaced nervousness. Rolling her eyes away with the silliness of it, but began again.
"The holly and the ivy, when they are both -"
He couldn't feel it with his own hand, but he felt it through her.
"Did you?"
He shook his head but smiled as he knelt down in front of her, closing her - closing THEM - in his embrace.
"Not yet." He would have to be patient. He didn't mind. He already had so much more than he had learned to hope for.
He placed a kiss where their baby was growing.
"I think Holly isn't quite big enough for me to be able to feel what she's getting up to in there."
"Holly?"
Her fingers threaded through his hair, tickling at the curls at the back of his neck. She had been a little less than pleased that it had been cut in her absence.
"Yeah. I think that's what she wants her name to be."
"You think it's a girl?"
"I know it is."
"Oh. Reealllyyy?" Mild mocking from his sassy wife.
He looked up at her and let the gravity of his certainty leave her breathless.
"I really am that lucky," he whispered.
Five months later, Holly Jennifer Crocker proved him right.
Currently, she was humming a tune he also barely remembered as she measured out flour for the cookies she was making.
Duke lowered the newspaper and watched his wife for a moment when the humming lapsed as she re-read the recipe. Every other cookie recipe she seemed to know by heart or was comfortable with winging it. But for some reason, with this recipe, she doubted herself. The recipe her mother had taught her was one that couldn't ever be left to chance. He understood it without being able to name it. All the anxieties and happy expectations, all of the nostalgia for her parents and her dreams of being a parent herself would be expressed in Christmas Ginger Cookies and a thousand other precious traditions that she would share and that the two of them would create together and pass on to the tiny little bump of a baby that was within her now.
She softly sang the next lines of the ancient carole as she began to spoon the dry ingredients into the large mixing bowl of sugars, butter and molasses and spices.
"...the rising of the sun, the running of the deer, the playing of the merry harp and sweet singing in the choir..."
By the time she ended the refrain he was behind her, wrapping himself around her, breathing her in and - for the maybe the millionth time and certainly not the last - settling his hand over her abdomen in his own compulsive gesture of affirmation. That she was real. That they were real. That all was well. If her traditions were to be those of comfort and celebration, his were to be those of protection and preservation. The fear and the violence would never be far enough in the past for him to forget. There would never be a day he wasn't ready to kill to defend her or bring her back.
She looked up at him with a smile as she stirred the forming dough, the song fading again.
"I like that song," he told her.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"It's my favorite," she admitted and began from the beginning, singing quietly, still mixing the dough and letting him sway the two of them back and forth to a slower rhythm.
He would never understand how she could follow his rhythm and maintain her own without effort. It was among the tiniest of her miracles.
As the dough thickened and got more difficult to manage he took over for her and she stepped away to clear some space to roll it out, and set out the Christmas shaped cookie cutters, the song ending as he up-ended the mixing bowl and turned the lump out onto the surface that seemed decorated with swirls of her fingerprints in flour.
He stepped back and leaned against the counter, pinching some dough off and smirking at his height advantage when he raised his hands too high for her to slap at.
"You know any others?" He asked, popping his ill gotten gains in his mouth. It tasted good. A spicy-sweet blend that felt like pulling a warm blanket over yourself in the cold dark. Perfect for a Winter's night.
She smoothed some flour onto the rolling pin and began another carol.
"I saw three ships come sailing in..."
He smiled and watched her work. Her dark hair had grown long and was pulled into a loose knot near the crown of her head. Soft tendrils were constantly escaping in various kinds of curls down her neck, curving along her cheeks until she absentmindedly tucked them behind her ears. Stubborn as the woman they adorned, they always found their way back to her face. He leaned over to kiss her cheek in camaraderie with the unruly curls and this time snagged a freshly cut star to gobble down.
"Duke!" It was equal parts chiding and laughing. "Save some for the actual cookies!"
"I will. I will. Say.... Who do you think is going to be eating these things tonight anyway? I mean... I hate to break it to you..." He feigned trying to struggle with the right words. "I mean, did your parents ever tell you... Did they ever give you the talk about...?"
"About being wary of pirates after my cookies?" She laughed at her own innuendo. "No. I had to discover that danger on my own."
She made a little show of body-blocking him from the cut out pieces of dough as she put them on the parchment lined pan and slipped them into the oven. Her brow furrowed slightly as she set the timer and he waited patiently for what was in her thoughts to come out.
"It's just that, this is our first Christmas together, and the last one we will have as just the two of us. I don't know..."
She looked up at him, willing him to understand that this was like a rehearsal for all the Christmases to come.
"And this Christmas, and the next, and the next are going to beautiful. They don't have to be perfect, they just have to be ours, Jennifer."
She nodded and returned to the remaining cookie dough, getting it ready for its own turn in the oven, beginning another song.
"Have a holly jolly Christma -"
She drew up short and her hands fluttered over her belly.
"Jen? You okay?"
He hated the cold dread that washed over before she turned to look at him with wonder.
"I think I felt a flutter. It's too soon for that though? Isn't it? But I'm pretty sure I felt a flutter."
He shrugged, not giving into the fear but not quite letting it go either, and stepped back toward her.
"You feel okay though, right?" He persisted. If something went wrong with this pregnancy, they would hold each other through it. As long as he had her, he could stand anything. They could try again...
"Duke, I'm fine. I am. I feel great." She took his hand and held it over the little swell in her abdomen and watched him for a reaction. He watched her face for clues as to when he should feel something.
Nothing.
"Maybe try singing again?" He prompted softly. She had done it again. Her bright smile and dark eyes somehow shining enough light and warmth on him to chase away the habitual fear and doubt.
She giggled with sudden and misplaced nervousness. Rolling her eyes away with the silliness of it, but began again.
"The holly and the ivy, when they are both -"
He couldn't feel it with his own hand, but he felt it through her.
"Did you?"
He shook his head but smiled as he knelt down in front of her, closing her - closing THEM - in his embrace.
"Not yet." He would have to be patient. He didn't mind. He already had so much more than he had learned to hope for.
He placed a kiss where their baby was growing.
"I think Holly isn't quite big enough for me to be able to feel what she's getting up to in there."
"Holly?"
Her fingers threaded through his hair, tickling at the curls at the back of his neck. She had been a little less than pleased that it had been cut in her absence.
"Yeah. I think that's what she wants her name to be."
"You think it's a girl?"
"I know it is."
"Oh. Reealllyyy?" Mild mocking from his sassy wife.
He looked up at her and let the gravity of his certainty leave her breathless.
"I really am that lucky," he whispered.
Five months later, Holly Jennifer Crocker proved him right.
Friday, September 19, 2014
I gotta get something off my chest (this is Daudrey related and unfriendly. be warned)
Where-In I rant and I am unkind to the notion of Daudrey and Daudrey shippers. Be forewarned. You are on MY turf.
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
If I Could Be Good
So, I started writing this last Spring. About the time I was contemplating, in earnest, Jennifer's torment to be in the Underworld for Stay and what Rhiannon/Audrey would be like, what William would be like... etc. At the same time, I was already concerned with the fate of Jennifer in season 5 and what Mara would be like and how would I write for Nathan and Mara and Duke and Jennifer. I don't know where any of this will go. If I will have any more to add on to it. I'm keeping my focus on Stay and FILIAC right now. This is definitely a side project. Something for me to muse on with Mara. I kept thinking that of all her experiences. All the memories that she has as she was forced to live so many lives "in the back seat" of her own body (hello Tyler!Duke) did she ever wonder what it FELT like? She saw what it LOOKED like, but did she ever wonder what it FELT like to be looked at as The Good One. Hence... "If I Could Be Good. Primo Mobis to this piece is the question that Mara asks Jennifer toward the end. Imagining that conversation, and then what would lead to it. I suppose I will eventually imagine what comes after that exchange.
Please leave comments.
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“Now; who’s going to help me get William back?”
Duke staggered toward her, ready to kill her, to beg her, he didn’t know which. He caught sight of Nathan, stunned, heartbroken and growing angry just behind her. If it was in him, he’d help her himself. If only she would or could revive Jennifer. If only Jennifer would be alright again.
“Nathan!” Was that him, gasping his friend’s name? It wasn’t what he meant to do. He hadn’t meant to call out for Nathan at all. But Mara was right, he was dying, Jennifer might be dead and Nathan had to do it. He had to make the deal that Duke couldn’t make.
Through the red haze he saw Nathan look back and forth between himself and Jennifer, and saw the grim determination come over him.
Nathan looked at Jennifer and knew that Duke was in the same place he had been about a year ago before. Desperate to save the woman he loved and unable to do it at the same time. Duke had jumped into that barn with no guarantees of surviving it or coming out. He’d done it for Audrey and he’d done it for Nathan, himself. Now, it was Nathan’s turn. There was no way of knowing what he was getting himself into, but he had to try.
“You fix Jennifer. And Duke. And I’ll help you get William back.”
Mara turned around and sneered at him.
“You think you’ll get your precious Audrey back too?”
Nathan held his breath and his stance. “No one is going to help you so much as eat in this town if you let either one of them die.”
“Dwight,” Vince ordered, “get Dave and get your hundred yards clearance.” Vince leveled Duke’s gun on her. “Forget helping you eat. No one is going to let you leave this place alive - through any door - if you don’t do what Nathan’s asking.”
She made an expression that was so much like Audrey, Lucy, and Sarah that it was almost Vince’s undoing; accepting and calculating at the same time. A quiet and distant nodding of the head as she looked over the task at hand. Vince just as quietly damned everything he’d ever thought he’d known about the woman in front of him.
Audrey Parker, Lucy Ripley and Sarah Vernon were all wonderful women. And none of them were this woman in front of them. They were people whose lives had been mimicked for the benefit of the Troubled so that this creature could face her sentence in coming to offer some aid to them. Aid, but never a cure. Never curing the curses she’d inflicted. Vince hated her right then. Angrily and deeply. If there was a way to suppress this creature forever, to force Audrey Parker back onto her then he’d find it and do it. At least they could all have that. And he would need Duke and Jennifer for that too. And if they couldn’t do it; then he’d put her down like a rabid dog. Which is probably what should have happened to begin with. Because hundreds of years of horrible cycles of horrible Troubles was no better solution than just having the damn Troubles to begin with.
He watched her approach Jennifer first. “And none of your tricks Mara. They are both restored. You understand? Restored and whole or I’ll have a bullet in your head faster than you can sneer.”
Mara sighed inwardly. As far as demands placed on her, curing this Child of Ruin in front of her and her lover was easy. And since Jennifer was more like herself than she was the others she could perhaps build an alliance with her.
“Ladies first,” she announced as she approached Jennifer. “Try to hold on there, Luke.”
“It’s Duke,” the one named Nathan, the one that Audrey loved, corrected.
She only smirked in response as she stooped to Jennifer, taking in a deep breath and reaching for the woman she put her mouth to hers and breathed in. She held her end of the bargain, breathing in only restoration and life. It wasn’t her fault that Children like this came with powers that could be a little… Troubling.
When Jennifer drew in a ragged breath and opened her eyes she flinched away from Mara.
“I would never,” she whispered. Denying the possibility of an alliance with her.
Mara shrugged and smiled slightly. “You might.” She turned to Duke.
“Sorry about earlier, I was a little out of sorts. Not quite myself.” Her gaze closed in on his chest. Her smile seemed merely mischievous and Duke shuddered inwardly at the face he’d come to know as Audrey, the face of a friend was warped into the face of this enemy who reeked of malice and failed short of Audrey’s charm and wit.
“Duke?” Jennifer struggled to stand, to get to him, to protect him. Her strength was returning but not fast enough.
Duke shifted his gaze to Jennifer and Mara marked how he changed. How his anger and revulsion evaporated and were supplanted by tenderness, concern and love.
“Oh, relax little girl. I’m going to need him if I’m going to get William back. Not to mention, if I want to get out of this cave alive.” She took a step toward Duke. “Open up and let me see.”
Duke complied with the remainder of his failing strength and Mara inspected him closely, tracing where his re-Troubling had gone wrong and reaching out she placed her hand over the imprint left on him and focused on withdrawal. She wondered just how restored the man named Vince meant.
Duke felt a tearing feeling that he was sure would finish him off and as the world spun out from under him he heard Jennifer scream his name and saw her rush toward him. It was Nathan who caught him as he fell though. Nathan’s quiet curse and strong hands bracing him at the shoulders even as Jennifer’s tiny, soft hands took one of his.
“Sorry. But I actually can’t make this easy and painless. There’s a lot in here to deal with.” Mara didn’t sound sorry at all. But after awhile the tearing sensation seemed to ease back and he could feel Jennifer there. One hand still linked with his as the other gently wiped at his face using her scarf. Soiling it with his blood. Nathan had eased him down so that he was lying against the wall and was sitting next to him.
“You okay?” Nathan murmured to him.
Duke nodded. “Getting there,” he said quietly. He turned to look at Jennifer, her lips still too bloodless but her eyes alert. “Jennifer?” He laid his hand on the side of her neck.
“I’m okay Duke. I’m just…”
“I’ll be okay. I promise.”
Mara watched them and grimaced slightly as she looked away. She couldn’t stop her gaze from moving to Nathan who was also watching them; looking inexplicably sad and pleased. For some reason, he’d promised to help her get William back for their sake.
“A little hard to understand, isn’t it?” Vince had come to stand beside her and even though he didn’t have the ability to actually read minds, she knew he had long been good at reading people in situations.
“I don’t have to understand it,” she replied with a shrug.
“No, you don’t,” Vince answered. But you want to.
Jennifer moved her own hand to cover the one Duke had laid on her neck. There was an importance in that gesture that Mara also wanted to understand. When Jennifer had fallen Duke had been dying and he had still rushed to catch her. After a moment the younger woman removed his hand and turned to kiss his palm and after a lingering and meaningful look between them stood. Nathan helped Duke rise after her.
“What are we going to do with her?” Jennifer asked.
Mara raised her eyebrows at both Jennifer’s gall and because she had her own question as to what the plan for the immediate future would be.
“Lock her up somewhere?” Duke suggested.
“We can’t,” Nathan replied.
“If Audrey Parker doesn’t return again to help with the Troubled; all hell could break loose again,” Vince added.
“Are you actually saying that I have to pretend to be Audrey Parker again?”
“Until we can figure out how to open that door again and get William, you’re going to have to,” Nathan asserted.
“Or at least not yourself,” Jennifer added.
Both Mara and Nathan frowned at her.
“Well, she can’t be herself. And she may have some trouble pretending to be Audrey.”
“The town thinks she is Detective Parker, HPD,” Nathan pointed out.
“You used the amnesia lie before,” Mara pointed out.
“We could just put her in a medical induced coma,” Duke suggested. “I bet Gloria would be willing to help out with that.”
Mara wondered why she was shocked when the others seemed to consider his idea.
“You shouldn’t be shocked,” Jennifer told her. “Not after everything you’ve done.”
“What will everyone think of you doing that to Audrey?”
“Who’s going to tell them?” Vince retorted.
Mara began to feel fear again, she understood only enough of the world’s modern medicine to know that the powerful drugs they would force into her system were undesirable and could have potentially harmful side effects.
The memories started to/could overcome her. And twice she had loved him.
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“What’s it like to be good?”
“To be what?”
“To have everyone look at you like you’re some holy virgin, when you’re not. To have them risk so much for you. To be able to send them to their deaths, what’s that like?”
Jennifer narrowed her eyes on her. “You have Audrey’s memories, don’t you know?” She would not rise to the bait but she also wasn’t going to let Mara get away with anything.
“I have her memories, I don’t have her feelings though.”
“Then you’ll just have to ponder those for yourself. Duke knows who I am. And Nathan knows who Audrey is.”
“What about the others?”
"I don't know. I don't really care as much either."
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"Are you out of your mind, promising her to help her get William back? We don't even know how or where to find him!"
"What was I supposed to do? Let Jennifer die? Let you die? Duke, you were the one who asked me to do it."
"I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to..." Duke didn't really know how to finish that sentence.
"Besides," Nathan continued, "Audrey is still in there. Somewhere. We gotta figure out how to get her back."
"Nathan. That's not Audrey anymore. That woman is..."
"Something about her is still Audrey. She has Audrey's memories..."
"Because the real Audrey Parker got her memories wiped when she came up here to track an identity thief!"
Nathan's lips tightened.
"Look, Duke. If you don't want to help, I don't blame you. Especially not if you want to just take Jennifer and run. Mara will try to use Jennifer, if she can."
"I'm not leavin'. I'll see this thing through. But, Nathan... She strikes out at Jennifer? At you? I'll put that bitch down."
"Duke.... You're not going to need to."
Please leave comments.
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“Now; who’s going to help me get William back?”
Duke staggered toward her, ready to kill her, to beg her, he didn’t know which. He caught sight of Nathan, stunned, heartbroken and growing angry just behind her. If it was in him, he’d help her himself. If only she would or could revive Jennifer. If only Jennifer would be alright again.
“Nathan!” Was that him, gasping his friend’s name? It wasn’t what he meant to do. He hadn’t meant to call out for Nathan at all. But Mara was right, he was dying, Jennifer might be dead and Nathan had to do it. He had to make the deal that Duke couldn’t make.
Through the red haze he saw Nathan look back and forth between himself and Jennifer, and saw the grim determination come over him.
Nathan looked at Jennifer and knew that Duke was in the same place he had been about a year ago before. Desperate to save the woman he loved and unable to do it at the same time. Duke had jumped into that barn with no guarantees of surviving it or coming out. He’d done it for Audrey and he’d done it for Nathan, himself. Now, it was Nathan’s turn. There was no way of knowing what he was getting himself into, but he had to try.
“You fix Jennifer. And Duke. And I’ll help you get William back.”
Mara turned around and sneered at him.
“You think you’ll get your precious Audrey back too?”
Nathan held his breath and his stance. “No one is going to help you so much as eat in this town if you let either one of them die.”
“Dwight,” Vince ordered, “get Dave and get your hundred yards clearance.” Vince leveled Duke’s gun on her. “Forget helping you eat. No one is going to let you leave this place alive - through any door - if you don’t do what Nathan’s asking.”
She made an expression that was so much like Audrey, Lucy, and Sarah that it was almost Vince’s undoing; accepting and calculating at the same time. A quiet and distant nodding of the head as she looked over the task at hand. Vince just as quietly damned everything he’d ever thought he’d known about the woman in front of him.
Audrey Parker, Lucy Ripley and Sarah Vernon were all wonderful women. And none of them were this woman in front of them. They were people whose lives had been mimicked for the benefit of the Troubled so that this creature could face her sentence in coming to offer some aid to them. Aid, but never a cure. Never curing the curses she’d inflicted. Vince hated her right then. Angrily and deeply. If there was a way to suppress this creature forever, to force Audrey Parker back onto her then he’d find it and do it. At least they could all have that. And he would need Duke and Jennifer for that too. And if they couldn’t do it; then he’d put her down like a rabid dog. Which is probably what should have happened to begin with. Because hundreds of years of horrible cycles of horrible Troubles was no better solution than just having the damn Troubles to begin with.
He watched her approach Jennifer first. “And none of your tricks Mara. They are both restored. You understand? Restored and whole or I’ll have a bullet in your head faster than you can sneer.”
Mara sighed inwardly. As far as demands placed on her, curing this Child of Ruin in front of her and her lover was easy. And since Jennifer was more like herself than she was the others she could perhaps build an alliance with her.
“Ladies first,” she announced as she approached Jennifer. “Try to hold on there, Luke.”
“It’s Duke,” the one named Nathan, the one that Audrey loved, corrected.
She only smirked in response as she stooped to Jennifer, taking in a deep breath and reaching for the woman she put her mouth to hers and breathed in. She held her end of the bargain, breathing in only restoration and life. It wasn’t her fault that Children like this came with powers that could be a little… Troubling.
When Jennifer drew in a ragged breath and opened her eyes she flinched away from Mara.
“I would never,” she whispered. Denying the possibility of an alliance with her.
Mara shrugged and smiled slightly. “You might.” She turned to Duke.
“Sorry about earlier, I was a little out of sorts. Not quite myself.” Her gaze closed in on his chest. Her smile seemed merely mischievous and Duke shuddered inwardly at the face he’d come to know as Audrey, the face of a friend was warped into the face of this enemy who reeked of malice and failed short of Audrey’s charm and wit.
“Duke?” Jennifer struggled to stand, to get to him, to protect him. Her strength was returning but not fast enough.
Duke shifted his gaze to Jennifer and Mara marked how he changed. How his anger and revulsion evaporated and were supplanted by tenderness, concern and love.
“Oh, relax little girl. I’m going to need him if I’m going to get William back. Not to mention, if I want to get out of this cave alive.” She took a step toward Duke. “Open up and let me see.”
Duke complied with the remainder of his failing strength and Mara inspected him closely, tracing where his re-Troubling had gone wrong and reaching out she placed her hand over the imprint left on him and focused on withdrawal. She wondered just how restored the man named Vince meant.
Duke felt a tearing feeling that he was sure would finish him off and as the world spun out from under him he heard Jennifer scream his name and saw her rush toward him. It was Nathan who caught him as he fell though. Nathan’s quiet curse and strong hands bracing him at the shoulders even as Jennifer’s tiny, soft hands took one of his.
“Sorry. But I actually can’t make this easy and painless. There’s a lot in here to deal with.” Mara didn’t sound sorry at all. But after awhile the tearing sensation seemed to ease back and he could feel Jennifer there. One hand still linked with his as the other gently wiped at his face using her scarf. Soiling it with his blood. Nathan had eased him down so that he was lying against the wall and was sitting next to him.
“You okay?” Nathan murmured to him.
Duke nodded. “Getting there,” he said quietly. He turned to look at Jennifer, her lips still too bloodless but her eyes alert. “Jennifer?” He laid his hand on the side of her neck.
“I’m okay Duke. I’m just…”
“I’ll be okay. I promise.”
Mara watched them and grimaced slightly as she looked away. She couldn’t stop her gaze from moving to Nathan who was also watching them; looking inexplicably sad and pleased. For some reason, he’d promised to help her get William back for their sake.
“A little hard to understand, isn’t it?” Vince had come to stand beside her and even though he didn’t have the ability to actually read minds, she knew he had long been good at reading people in situations.
“I don’t have to understand it,” she replied with a shrug.
“No, you don’t,” Vince answered. But you want to.
Jennifer moved her own hand to cover the one Duke had laid on her neck. There was an importance in that gesture that Mara also wanted to understand. When Jennifer had fallen Duke had been dying and he had still rushed to catch her. After a moment the younger woman removed his hand and turned to kiss his palm and after a lingering and meaningful look between them stood. Nathan helped Duke rise after her.
“What are we going to do with her?” Jennifer asked.
Mara raised her eyebrows at both Jennifer’s gall and because she had her own question as to what the plan for the immediate future would be.
“Lock her up somewhere?” Duke suggested.
“We can’t,” Nathan replied.
“If Audrey Parker doesn’t return again to help with the Troubled; all hell could break loose again,” Vince added.
“Are you actually saying that I have to pretend to be Audrey Parker again?”
“Until we can figure out how to open that door again and get William, you’re going to have to,” Nathan asserted.
“Or at least not yourself,” Jennifer added.
Both Mara and Nathan frowned at her.
“Well, she can’t be herself. And she may have some trouble pretending to be Audrey.”
“The town thinks she is Detective Parker, HPD,” Nathan pointed out.
“You used the amnesia lie before,” Mara pointed out.
“We could just put her in a medical induced coma,” Duke suggested. “I bet Gloria would be willing to help out with that.”
Mara wondered why she was shocked when the others seemed to consider his idea.
“You shouldn’t be shocked,” Jennifer told her. “Not after everything you’ve done.”
“What will everyone think of you doing that to Audrey?”
“Who’s going to tell them?” Vince retorted.
Mara began to feel fear again, she understood only enough of the world’s modern medicine to know that the powerful drugs they would force into her system were undesirable and could have potentially harmful side effects.
The memories started to/could overcome her. And twice she had loved him.
-------------------------------------------
“What’s it like to be good?”
“To be what?”
“To have everyone look at you like you’re some holy virgin, when you’re not. To have them risk so much for you. To be able to send them to their deaths, what’s that like?”
Jennifer narrowed her eyes on her. “You have Audrey’s memories, don’t you know?” She would not rise to the bait but she also wasn’t going to let Mara get away with anything.
“I have her memories, I don’t have her feelings though.”
“Then you’ll just have to ponder those for yourself. Duke knows who I am. And Nathan knows who Audrey is.”
“What about the others?”
"I don't know. I don't really care as much either."
----------------------------------
"Are you out of your mind, promising her to help her get William back? We don't even know how or where to find him!"
"What was I supposed to do? Let Jennifer die? Let you die? Duke, you were the one who asked me to do it."
"I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to..." Duke didn't really know how to finish that sentence.
"Besides," Nathan continued, "Audrey is still in there. Somewhere. We gotta figure out how to get her back."
"Nathan. That's not Audrey anymore. That woman is..."
"Something about her is still Audrey. She has Audrey's memories..."
"Because the real Audrey Parker got her memories wiped when she came up here to track an identity thief!"
Nathan's lips tightened.
"Look, Duke. If you don't want to help, I don't blame you. Especially not if you want to just take Jennifer and run. Mara will try to use Jennifer, if she can."
"I'm not leavin'. I'll see this thing through. But, Nathan... She strikes out at Jennifer? At you? I'll put that bitch down."
"Duke.... You're not going to need to."
Falling In Love In a Coffee Shop - Part 13 (formerly What you Want - smut)
Jennifer stood a little longer in the shower than she meant to, trying to work out what would happen when she stepped out and put on Duke's shirt and then.... And then what? She shuddered at the idea of putting on Duke's shirt, the idea making her feel more naked than she already was. There was an intimacy in that scenario that she didn't know how to cope with. There was already so MUCH intimacy between them that seemed so out of place. There was no denying the mutual attraction but everything between them was strangely fractured. She looked down at her body and winced at the bruises that still ached. She had avoided looking in the mirror and wasn't in any hurry to do so. What had Duke seen? How did he view her now? She closed her eyes and let herself remember as much as she could from the previous night. He had seen her naked. He had held her against his own body and he had been naked. She suddenly regretted not noticing what that looked like.
Wednesday, August 6, 2014
The Meaning of Names in Haven
One night last fall I went through and made a list of the meanings of names in Haven. Many I already knew and through discussing them in some tweets and once on another blog (Unspooling Fiction: Haven) pointing out what the name Byron Howard means, I decided to put that knowledge on Word and research what I didn't already know. I didn't really have a spot to put it until I made this blog and then didn't really think of this blog as the place for it. Tonight, since I'm all writer-blocked and shit I decided to get into Haven Canon and headCanon mode and.... Here you go. Feel free to comment with additions to both the meanings I've presented and that of other characters.
Meaning of names in Haven:
Meaning of names in Haven:
Thursday, July 31, 2014
Writing FanFic Is Hard
I'm really stuck on Stay but I keep going in and working on it. Adding details and anything that comes to mind. Just because I know what I want to have happen in the chapter, doesn't mean I can always write to it.
Of course, comments, reviews and other forms of encouragement can be helpful. Including comments on FILIACS which has grown longer than I ever thought it would when I started it. It's fun though and often while writing it I get ideas for Stay. If you have any other AU prompts.... prompt away.
Also, since finally getting around to watching The Desolation of Smaug my long dormant obsession with Thranduil has been awakened. Jfc... Lee Pace. Let me know if you're interested in reading Thranduil smut-fic. Of course there would be smut.
Of course, comments, reviews and other forms of encouragement can be helpful. Including comments on FILIACS which has grown longer than I ever thought it would when I started it. It's fun though and often while writing it I get ideas for Stay. If you have any other AU prompts.... prompt away.
Also, since finally getting around to watching The Desolation of Smaug my long dormant obsession with Thranduil has been awakened. Jfc... Lee Pace. Let me know if you're interested in reading Thranduil smut-fic. Of course there would be smut.
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
Falling In Love In a Coffee Shop - Part 11
"Audrey!"
"Oh, Jennifer.... I'm so sorry!"
The two sister hugged and held onto each other as Audrey rushed to sit next to Jennifer.
"Oh, Jennifer.... I'm so sorry!"
The two sister hugged and held onto each other as Audrey rushed to sit next to Jennifer.
Monday, June 23, 2014
Falling in Love in a Coffee Shop - Part 10
"Agent Officer Audrey Parker Mason; I presume?" Duke helped her out of the hatch and onto the deck.
"Yeah, thanks." Audrey bit at the insides of her cheeks to keep from smiling at him. "And you must be Duke."
"Yeah, thanks." Audrey bit at the insides of her cheeks to keep from smiling at him. "And you must be Duke."
Saturday, June 21, 2014
Since this is my quiet little spot - Part 2
So Eric tweeted that he was bummed about Emma not returning as Jennifer but that Emma had to do what was best for her and her family.
1st of all: I hope this means simply that she and her family wanted to go home and that all is well. Off hand, I would say that it's likely they didn't or couldn't offer her a contract with suitable pay. In which case, she would have my full support: when possible, never take less than you know you're worth.
2nd of all: It's good to know that Jennifer's death isn't the result of some whim coming from a writing team that kills off characters (particularly females) willy-nilly.
3rd of all: That's really sweet of Eric. I wonder what kind of questioning/grilling he got from fans?
At this point, I always consider recasts. When we love a character, how attached to the actor is that? Could Jennifer be loved if she was played by someone else? Could Duke?
I'm glad that Jennifer wasn't just some disposable character to this show. That makes me feel better, but there are a number of emerging reasons that I might not watch Season 5. At least, not in the way that I have watched the previous four seasons, not week by week, certain to watch it live or as soon as possible after.
P.S. Eric's tweet doesn't explain why Colin Ferguson is the new Maytag man.
1st of all: I hope this means simply that she and her family wanted to go home and that all is well. Off hand, I would say that it's likely they didn't or couldn't offer her a contract with suitable pay. In which case, she would have my full support: when possible, never take less than you know you're worth.
2nd of all: It's good to know that Jennifer's death isn't the result of some whim coming from a writing team that kills off characters (particularly females) willy-nilly.
3rd of all: That's really sweet of Eric. I wonder what kind of questioning/grilling he got from fans?
At this point, I always consider recasts. When we love a character, how attached to the actor is that? Could Jennifer be loved if she was played by someone else? Could Duke?
I'm glad that Jennifer wasn't just some disposable character to this show. That makes me feel better, but there are a number of emerging reasons that I might not watch Season 5. At least, not in the way that I have watched the previous four seasons, not week by week, certain to watch it live or as soon as possible after.
P.S. Eric's tweet doesn't explain why Colin Ferguson is the new Maytag man.
Thursday, June 19, 2014
Falling in Love in a Coffee Shop - Part 9
Duke jerked awake to the sound of someone pounding on the door to the deck. He was still on his back, Jennifer still tangled on and around him.There was a mild tingling in his arm from her head resting on his shoulder through the night and the sun was shining on her through the window, lighting a dark fire in her hair. The bruises on her face had darkened through the night and interrupted the vision of porcelain he should have been treated to. He grimaced as he eased her to the side, his frown deepening when he felt signs of a fever on her forehead and progressing right to snarling when the pounding on the door sounded again. Pulling a pistol from the nightstand, and pulling on some pants, he went to let the visitor know that they didn't want any.
Falling In Love In A Coffee Shop - Part 8
So, this is where things get rather Café Noir. There's depiction of abuse here and if you don't like that sort of thing then don't click through. This was a fevered vision of mine and so I wrote it. It's pretty rough and drafty as hell and that's before I address the content. I wrote this from Duke's perspective because it was easier to deal with emotionally. Though I don't imagine Duke sees it that way. As I wrote it, I found myself musing on the narrative function of placing one character in danger and torment in order to force the other character to acknowledge or even develop their feelings. It's a cheap trick for a variety of reasons, the worst being rampant sexism. The fact that this almost always means that the female or femme character has to suffer is something to really consider. Statistically, women are more likely to be victims of violence than men. But in our fictional narrative world we do have the opportunity to change that, so many of us writers fail at that. I think I'm going to have to watch Emma Lahanna as Kira Ford and flip the table on her and Duke at some point, putting him in mortal danger and send her to an ass kicking rescue. Actually seeing the actress in a hero's role would help me switch my visualization around.
Obviously, this is several hours ahead of the current timeline for FILIACS#5. Sometimes I write an event like this and then write to it, altering the ever living shit out of it by the time the story carries itself there. I don't particularly like plot driven drama or narrative myself so if the character development won't carry it to that event then the event gets tossed to the side or unrecognizably altered. If the point of this blog is to let you and myself watch my process then even though this story remains for Ann, I felt like I should go ahead and publish this. It's always subject to be changed or even removed. I'm not comfortable with the implications in this content or with how I would depict some of the events leading up to this moment. Also, when I put something in italics and/or alternate color it's because I'm seriously considering cutting it. In this instance, I'm trying to convey how Duke finds Jennifer herself attractive but is certainly not aroused in the current circumstance.
Finally... Hypothermia. This is already too damn long but you should know that while I once treated my own dumb ass for hypothermia from freezing water this way it certainly isn't sound medical advice. Except for the part of having Duke with you. I'm pretty sure any decent doctor would get on board with having Duke press his naked body against you in pretty much any circumstance. If not, seek 2nd opinion.
Umm.... Enjoy?
Obviously, this is several hours ahead of the current timeline for FILIACS#5. Sometimes I write an event like this and then write to it, altering the ever living shit out of it by the time the story carries itself there. I don't particularly like plot driven drama or narrative myself so if the character development won't carry it to that event then the event gets tossed to the side or unrecognizably altered. If the point of this blog is to let you and myself watch my process then even though this story remains for Ann, I felt like I should go ahead and publish this. It's always subject to be changed or even removed. I'm not comfortable with the implications in this content or with how I would depict some of the events leading up to this moment. Also, when I put something in italics and/or alternate color it's because I'm seriously considering cutting it. In this instance, I'm trying to convey how Duke finds Jennifer herself attractive but is certainly not aroused in the current circumstance.
Finally... Hypothermia. This is already too damn long but you should know that while I once treated my own dumb ass for hypothermia from freezing water this way it certainly isn't sound medical advice. Except for the part of having Duke with you. I'm pretty sure any decent doctor would get on board with having Duke press his naked body against you in pretty much any circumstance. If not, seek 2nd opinion.
Umm.... Enjoy?
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Monday, May 5, 2014
Falling in Love in a Coffee Shop - Part 6
"We have some copies of the official police department releases of arrests that your sister was involved in and a few headline articles. Including the one where she shot the Reverend Driscoll."
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Falling in Love in a Coffee Shop - Part 5
{Still for Ann. Still a Work in Progress and always subject to be altered, edited and added onto.}
Jennifer dropped her belongings on the floor at the foot of her bed, left her boots and clothes on her back in the same pile and dropped onto the bed.
"Thank you God, for Best Westerns on every highway and Preferred Membership Status." She had spotted the hotel on her way into Haven, midway between Haven itself and Derry. A hotel like Duke had suggested with no entry to the rooms from the outside and like most Best Westerns open even late. Since she had their rewards program and their app on her phone she'd been able to call them before she had even left the pier and now half an hour later was ready to enjoy the comforts of familiar hospitality.
Jennifer dropped her belongings on the floor at the foot of her bed, left her boots and clothes on her back in the same pile and dropped onto the bed.
"Thank you God, for Best Westerns on every highway and Preferred Membership Status." She had spotted the hotel on her way into Haven, midway between Haven itself and Derry. A hotel like Duke had suggested with no entry to the rooms from the outside and like most Best Westerns open even late. Since she had their rewards program and their app on her phone she'd been able to call them before she had even left the pier and now half an hour later was ready to enjoy the comforts of familiar hospitality.
Since this is my little quiet spot
And I don't really want to put it out there on a more public space where it can get loud when I'm not really sure how I feel or what to think....
Monday, March 31, 2014
Falling in Love in a Coffee Shop - Part 4
{Still a work in progress, still subject to be added onto and/or altered. And, of course, still for Ann.)
Friday, March 28, 2014
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Falling In Love in A Coffee Shop - part 3
{Still a work in progress, subject to be updated and altered}
Jennifer took a deep breath and a leap of faith.
Jennifer took a deep breath and a leap of faith.
Monday, March 17, 2014
Falling In Love In A Coffee Shop -- Sketches
{Sketches, for me, are when I come up with a conversation inside of a scene I haven't fleshed out yet.}
Falling In Love In A Coffee Shop - Part 2
{Still a work in progress. Still for Ann. I thought this would go quick. Turns out my muses are all excited about a new adventure in their twisty AU. So you'll probably see this blog peppered with actualy story entries as well as sketch pieces. The blog IS "See Jeanette Write" so you are going to be subjected to my weird processes.}
Once
inside the church, Jennifer called out with a tentative ‘hello’ to try and make
sure there wasn’t actually anyone in there. She figured she could play dumb or innocent
enough to convince them that the door was really locked. After a few seconds
she released her breath and fumbled through Audrey’s journal to re-read the
entry about this church.
“There was
information about my birth mother, Lucy, in the sacristy in the back of the
church, off to the left of the sanctuary. There was also a list of names of people
who were friends to her. A few of them were crossed out and I was able to find
in the newspaper archives some obituaries for them. ALL of the ones who were
crossed out on the list died within days or weeks of each other and under
questionable circumstances, though there was never a police investigation. Were
they murdered as I suspect? And if they were, then is that what happened to
Lucy?”
Friday, March 14, 2014
Saturday, March 8, 2014
Random Randomness
Duke woke the next morning to Jennifer trying to get out of bed quietly. With better stealth, he moved to grab her - covering her mouth and pulling her back into bed with him. She shrieked under his hand and flailed at the air a moment before he had her pinned beneath him again. “Where do you think you’re off to, Princess?”
Date Night out take from Stay
What are you wearing?”
“It’s called a cropped sweater, bubble skirt, stockings and heels, Duke.”
“I see all… of… that. It’s a little um --”
“Sexy?” She finished for him. “I hope so, that’s the idea.”
“Short,” he corrected. “Everywhere.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you like it?”
He sighed. He would love it for private viewing. The matching plum tone of the sweater and skirt looked great on her skin. But the sweater was too cropped on the bottom and too low cut on the top. And the shoulders looked like they could fall off either way or both. Was she even wearing a bra? The skirt was short and made of some kind of flimsy material that caused it to swirl and float up every time she moved. The ivory colored stockings seemed to have glitter in them that kept the eyes wondering back to and all over her legs. Then there were the sling back heels. The same plum color of the rest of the outfit crisscrossed her delicate feet in straps that alternated from apparent velvet to shiny leather.
“Damn, Jennifer, you look like the Sugar Plum Sex Fairy!”
She smiled at that.
“We are NOT going out with you dressed like that.” They’d decided on a date night together. The staff at the Gull had been wanting to meet her and she’d wanted to ‘let her hair down’ and have some fun. At one time he would love to have had a beautiful woman dressed like that, or in even less, on his arm when he walked into his own bar. That was a few years and women back. This was Jennifer and now.
She narrowed her eyes dangerously at him. “Then, YOU can stay home,” she snapped and gathered her billfold from her purse and dropped it into the clutch she was carrying.
Duke started to count down from ten and got to five before he was following her out the door. “Like hell, I will.”
Three hours, a few too many margaritas, a little too much dancing and showing off by Jennifer resulting in way too many appreciative stares from men - including Jack Driscoll giving him the thumbs up and yelling ‘nice trim’ at him, along with envious stares from women and Duke couldn’t hustle Jennifer out of the Gull fast enough. But she’d had a good time. And though he didn’t want to admit it, he had too. There was a certain satisfaction in the way men stared at her and she didn’t even see them. Or she didn’t acknowledge them. But she had damn sure got and held everyone’s attention.
“That was quite a show you put on back there,” he murmured as they made their way back onto the Rouge.
“You think that was a show? Oh, Duke-Baby, you haven’t seen ANYTHING yet!” She called over her shoulder as she went downstairs.
He pulled a face. “Duke-Baby? There will be NO referring to me as Duke-Baby,” he grumbled as he followed her. When he got downstairs she had Jay-Z on the stereo and was already grooving to it. She dropped down low and leaned back on one arm before undulating to her knees and then working her way back up. On second thought; whatever she wants to call me is good. He came to stand in front of the breakfast nook.
Jennifer gave Duke a gentle push and he complied with a smile by sitting down and resting his arm on the table. She smiled mischievously as she pirouetted to let her bubble skirt float up with the air current and flash a pair of silk panties the same color as the rest of her outfit over her ivory colored stockings. As she completed the turn she pulled her midriff bearing sweater over her head and gave it a little fling at him, managing to hit him right in the face with it. He yanked it out of his way and dropped it onto the table to take in the sight of a strapless, plum colored lace demi bra that could only exist to drive him crazy. She tossed back her head and laughed while she kept on dancing, her nipples playing peek-a-boo over the lace edging of her bra and her hips swaying to the music as she hooked her thumbs into the waistline of the skirt and pulled it down slowly.
“Maybe I should see about installing a pole in here,” Duke mused aloud, teasing her.
“Ha! Real dancers don’t need a pole.” She abandoned the skirt and instead did as near a perfect six o’clock penche as could be expected when she was wearing heels instead of toe shoes and feeling tipsy in order to push down the elastic ankle strap of that particular shoe and when she landed in fourth position she immediately moved her weight to lift her foot out of it and give it a little kick out of the way.
“Ah, now you’re just bragging, Bright Eyes.”
She smiled at him and moved into an arabesque and then used a gymnastics trick to coil the leg and then reach behind, grab that shoe and pull it off. She let herself twirl with the recoil, landing in his arms and lap. He laughed and kissed her.
“Is this the part where it becomes a lap dance?” He kissed her and they laughed together. She took a moment to gauge the amount of room she had to work with and deciding it wasn’t enough shook her head and wriggled out of his grasp.
“Not yet, Sailor. You know… I believe those cost extra. Getting a happy ending costs a LOT extra.”
“Happy endings are for body rubs, sweetheart.”
She stilled and gave him a speculative glare. He raised his hand defensively.
“At least, that’s what I’ve been led to believe.” She narrowed her eyes. He was lucky she liked his hands. And his eyes. His face. She dropped the skirt and watched his face begin to look appropriately appreciative.
“You know, I’m starting to notice something here with you, darling.”
“Oh yeah?” She resumed dancing.
“Your underwear matches your clothes.” She stopped dancing and he continued; “our first time, you were wearing a lot of red, even under the pants and blouse. And then the next time I got to see you undress you were wearing a dark green blouse and light green bra and panties… And then the night Macha gave me my Trouble back, you were still wearing dark blue under the leggings and shirt you wore to train with Maeve, the ones that would match your suit you wore to work.” He was smiling as he put the memory pieces together. “You match all the way through.”
“Yeah. I, um, like matching.” She was pleased that he noticed but it was also a little embarrassing. It occurred to her that there were a myriad of tiny details they didn’t know about each other and he had never actually seen her shop and the lengths she went to in order to make sure her penchant for underwear matching her outfits was satisfied.
“It’s a…. very… pretty effect.”
“You like it?”
“Is it meant for me to like it?”
“That’s kind of a big bonus, yeah.”
He kept smiling even as his eyes narrowed. “Tell me who else noticed -- and liked it.”
“Umm… There was Rick, my freshman year in college…” He crooked his finger and she went to him; he stood and picked her up, carrying her to bed. “He made fun of me for it though. A lot. Said it was a waste of money and time…. It kind of is I guess.”
“No. Dick can shut the fuck up, he’s a dead man anyway.”
“It’s Rick --”
“Whatever.”
“And don’t say that.”
“Alright, but he doesn’t matter, and don’t tell me any more. At least not about some whiney douche bag who does not appreciate the art that is Jennifer Mason getting dressed and undressed.” He sat her on the bed and knelt on the floor before her, kissing the toes of one stocking clad foot and continuing to kiss his way along the arch of her foot, her ankle, and all the way up her leg before using his teeth to grip the garter and pull it off.
“Well, there was Ben, who worked at the Globe with me… He thought it was hot. He, um, actually bought me some.”
“You’ll be throwing those out and he is DEFINITELY a dead man.”
“Duke!”
“I’m kidding.” He started on her other leg. “At least about the killing him part. Not about getting rid of the Ben-wear.”
“It’s not ‘Ben-wear!’” She lowered her voice to mimic his even as she pushed his shirt over his shoulders and down his arms. “It’s MY under wear.”
He shrugged out of his shirt and yanked off the tank underneath. “Yeah, that another man bought you!” He kissed her argumentative mouth and gave her sharp tongue a soft nibble.
“Are we really going to argue about this?” She asked while yanking his pants down.
“No,” he gave her a push back onto the bed and climbed after her until he was straddling her. “I’ll just throw it all out and buy you all new.” He undid that wicked little bra from the front clasp and took one nipple in her mouth to give a sound suckling that had her arching for him.
“Don’t you dare!” She ordered around a gasp. “That stuff is expensive!”
“Now, I noticed early on my Princess had a fondness for the good stuff,” he acknowledged. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you… covered. So to speak.”
“Duke!” She was laughing and pushed him into an upright position as she sat up enough to shrug out of the bra before reaching to tug down her panties.
“Wait,” he ordered. “Did anyone else buy these for you?” His hands came to rest on each hip, fingers curling into the straps there, preparing to tear them off of her, depending on the answer.
Her own hands covered his to stay him. “Yes,” she confessed with a defiant tilt of her chin. When his eyes narrowed and his hands tensed she finished, “Maeve did! She let me use her credit card. THAT was seriously fun.”
He gazed at her appreciatively for a moment. “Well played, Jennifer.”
“I thought so.”
“You know, you’re getting to be a bad girl.”
“Ha. Must be the rub off effect of living with a pirate. And when do we get to talk about your other women?” She wriggled out of the panties and came up to kneeling in front of him.
“Hmmm. Touché. But none of the them bought me underwear.”
“You don’t wear it.”
“I do sometimes, if it’s particularly chilly.”
“Are you worried about shrinkage?” She wrapped a hand around him and gave him a long, lingering stroke.
His breath hissed through his teeth before he collected himself enough to sound indignant when he answered, “no!”
She giggled and coaxed him to turn and lay on his back, kissing his neck and chest and giving a little extra affection to the scar over his heart. He was more than willing to oblige her and when she was settled between his legs and her mouth had made its trail down over his torso and was finally sucking on him he twined his fingers gently into her hair and told her, “in all the world I have never seen anyone like you, Princess Bright Eyes.” He watched her for a few seconds, her beautiful mouth moving up and down his cock and felt the hot velvet of her tongue on the crown. She looked back up at him with smiling eyes and his heart melted a little more. “And you’re everything I could want.” She took him deep in her mouth and gave a swallow that almost made his eyes cross. “Oh, Buddha,” he sighed. “I think you’re all I can handle too.”
Red Dress Smut for Stay-Rough Cut and unattached
She pulled his undershirt up and was kissing exposed skin before he could finish taking it off. In the mirror behind them he took note of her white hand resting on his sun darkened shoulder. He let his eyes travel over the reflection of her back in the mirror with her dark, dark hair and her red dress contrasting again with her pale skin. He pinched the tab of the zipper and pulled down, watching the material part like a curtain on more skin. She didn’t seem to be wearing anything underneath the dress. Or, at least nothing on top. Her mouth was at his neck now and her fingers were working his pony tail free. He slipped one hand into the parted material at her back and reached down with the other to grasp her thigh just under the hemline.
She moaned at the contact and pressed tighter against him, raising further up onto her toes, her fingers making their way through his hair. He watched the muscles in her legs and back move and felt them under his hands. Wanting more, he used both hands to pull the dress apart but could only get so far. He forced himself to step away and held her back by bracing his hands against her hips.
“Duke…” She growled his name in frustration.
He smiled as he turned her around to face the mirror, slipping his hands into the dress and skimming them along her sides. The dress started slipping off, the straps sliding down her arms and with a subtle shimmy she shook it off to pool around her feet. What was left behind left him a little short of breath.
In the semi dark left by the candles and in the surreal image created by the reflection of the mirror, the red of the panties looked like a dark sin on her white skin. The audacity it took to use the word panties as a way to describe a triangle of red lace strung together by red satin and tied in a bow right above her ass put a strain on his reserve. For a moment he held back from touching her, taking in the sight of her skin reflecting the candle glow, unless it was her skin glowing all by itself again. She was still wearing her shoes and he bent to undo the little buckle on each one and to push them off her feet and toss them, along with the dress out of the way. He took his time kissing his way up one leg, letting his hand enjoy the smooth skin of her thigh until he was standing upright behind her again.
“Is this all you were wearing all evening?” He asked. One hand settled on her breast and the other came to her hip, his fingers laying against lace covered skin. She sighed and relaxed against him.
“I did have on shoes and I'm wearing stockings.”
“Mm. Yes. You are.” He reached down and plucked at one of the garters.
“And I did have a dress on.”
“Yes. You did.” His hand returned to her hip.
“Did you like it?” She reached behind and felt for his pants button.
“The dress?” He gave her breast a gentle squeeze.
“Mmhm.” She got the button undone and his zipper followed.
“No. No, I hated that dress.” He slipped his other hand under a satin band.
“Oh, really?” She smirked at him, knowing better, and her traveling hand wrapped around him.
“Yeah. Why do you think I took it off you so fast?” His voice had gone a little rough and now both hands were at her hips, clutching her back and close against him.
“I thought you were wanting to make sure I matched.” She wriggled against him, her hands tugging at his jeans, trying to push them down over his hips.
“I never doubted you.” One hand moved down to cup her, another moved to her breast. She moaned and closed her eyes.
“So… here it is. What you were waiting to see.” She returned the favor and his breath hissed out between clenched teeth.
“Mmhmm.” He caressed his palm over her nipple before giving it a gentle pinch. The fingers of his other hand were teasing at her entrance.
“So, what do you think?” Her voice had gone breathless and her head tipped back against his shoulder.
“That I want you to open your eyes.” He withdrew his hands to remove his pants.
She did and couldn’t repress a shiver of delight at what she saw. Duke stood behind her, naked and perfect and eyes shimmering silver. This time there was none of that awful, fearful tension he had shown before. He pulled the quilt off the bed and folded it onto the floor just behind her.
“Duke?” She wasn’t even sure what she was asking. He stepped onto the blanket and held his hands out to her. She moved to him and let him turn her around in his arms to face the mirror again.
“I want you to watch, Jennifer. I want to watch you. So keep looking at the mirror. Okay?”
She nodded, eyes wide and focused on the spectacle in the mirror. He pulled her down onto her knees with him. She watched his hands trace her frame along her sides and the contrast of his darker skin against her very pale skin was mesmerizing to her. She often felt small next to him, though never unsafe. And now, even though their size difference was starkly illustrated in the mirror, the sight and feel of him and his warmth all around her only fueled her increasing sense of power and she saw her own pale skin begin to glow at his next touch. The feel of his finger tips tracing lightly over her skin felt like electricity rushing over her and her eyes fluttered closed as she felt her body melt further into his, supported by a hand at her throat and the other fondling her sex.
“Open your eyes, Jennifer.” He withdrew his fingers until she complied. “Do you see it? Do you see how your skin is glowing?” She nodded. “Look at me. Watch me love you.” She felt and saw him move behind her and felt him pull at the bow of the panties then watched them fall away. And then he was holding his cock at her entrance.
“You’re mine, Jennifer. You’re mine.” He teased deeper into her entrance and she whimpered in protest when he pulled away.
“Say it. Say you’re mine.”
She smiled wicked at him and moved her hands to his hips. “You’re mine, Duke” she repeated to him as she pushed her hips down onto him, taking him further in. “You’re mine.” His eyes darkened and she felt him shudder slightly at her back. Feeling her triumph and pushing for more she took his hand in hers and drawing it up to her mouth, and gave his finger a long langorous suck. "I'm watching, Duke. Are you?" She repeated the salacious motion her eyes shining with merriment.
He smiled as he bent and kissed her shoulder before giving her a gentle bite there. She shuddered, but her eyes stayed open, meeting his in the mirror while she returned with a nip on the pad of his finger. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m yours Princess.” He pulled his hand away from her and guided her down until she was on her hands and knees before him, kissing her along her shoulder and neck. She pulled in a shuddering gasp and arched her back, her hair falling into her eyes. “I’m yours.” He waited until he could see her eyes again, glowing bright gold from behind the dark curls of her hair. “But you belong to me.” He pressed into her, still holding back from her, still waiting for her to give him what he wanted. Her frustration was a soft cry as she moved her hips in an effort to take him further again and was thwarted with his grasp on her. “Say it.” This time the bite was on the back of her neck and a little harder.
“Tell me you belong to me, Bright Eyes. Tell me that.” He moved just a little bit inside her and her eyes closed again. “Look at me, look at US, Jennifer. And tell me that you’re mine.” She opened her eyes and all of her breath and words caught in her chest and threatened to crowd out her heart. Duke’s eyes were still shining silver and his gaze on her felt like it could burn. “I’ll give you everything,” he promised with a whisper in her ear, the devil himself tempting her now. “Just tell me that you’re mine too.”
“I am yours, Duke. I am. I always have been.”
He smiled at her. “That’s my Princess.” And then he was all the way inside her, and she couldn’t hold his stare in the mirror because she couldn’t help that with him seated fully within her, that fire inside her felt like it raged out of control and could only be contained in his hands. With his next thrust seeming to reach even deeper she couldn’t continue to hold herself up either and felt him follow her down, his mouth at her ear, whispering praise to her and demanding more in the same breath, in between kissing her and giving her soft love bites. “That’s right, Beautiful, show me how you love me. Tell me. Tell me again how you’re my Princess.”
“God Duke! I love you. I love you so much. I’m yours, you know I’m yours.”
“Always?” His movements were slow and gentle and she felt a spiraling inferno in herself that demanded more. He withdrew from her again, only his tip at her entrance, again.
“Yes! Duke...please!” She was going to go insane.
“Open your eyes, Jennifer.”
Did she actually just whimper in protest?
“Open your eyes. Look. See how beautiful you are.”
She did; again. And this time when he thrust into her he gave her what she wanted while he watched her face. One of his hands cupping her jaw so that she couldn’t turn away. She didn’t even try not to scream out her pleasure from it and was vaguely worried about his ears. He only smiled before he bent to kiss her shoulder again.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I’m yours,” she whispered back to him. “Always.”
“I know.”
And then he made sure neither one of them could get a coherent thought or word out.
She moaned at the contact and pressed tighter against him, raising further up onto her toes, her fingers making their way through his hair. He watched the muscles in her legs and back move and felt them under his hands. Wanting more, he used both hands to pull the dress apart but could only get so far. He forced himself to step away and held her back by bracing his hands against her hips.
“Duke…” She growled his name in frustration.
He smiled as he turned her around to face the mirror, slipping his hands into the dress and skimming them along her sides. The dress started slipping off, the straps sliding down her arms and with a subtle shimmy she shook it off to pool around her feet. What was left behind left him a little short of breath.
In the semi dark left by the candles and in the surreal image created by the reflection of the mirror, the red of the panties looked like a dark sin on her white skin. The audacity it took to use the word panties as a way to describe a triangle of red lace strung together by red satin and tied in a bow right above her ass put a strain on his reserve. For a moment he held back from touching her, taking in the sight of her skin reflecting the candle glow, unless it was her skin glowing all by itself again. She was still wearing her shoes and he bent to undo the little buckle on each one and to push them off her feet and toss them, along with the dress out of the way. He took his time kissing his way up one leg, letting his hand enjoy the smooth skin of her thigh until he was standing upright behind her again.
“Is this all you were wearing all evening?” He asked. One hand settled on her breast and the other came to her hip, his fingers laying against lace covered skin. She sighed and relaxed against him.
“I did have on shoes and I'm wearing stockings.”
“Mm. Yes. You are.” He reached down and plucked at one of the garters.
“And I did have a dress on.”
“Yes. You did.” His hand returned to her hip.
“Did you like it?” She reached behind and felt for his pants button.
“The dress?” He gave her breast a gentle squeeze.
“Mmhm.” She got the button undone and his zipper followed.
“No. No, I hated that dress.” He slipped his other hand under a satin band.
“Oh, really?” She smirked at him, knowing better, and her traveling hand wrapped around him.
“Yeah. Why do you think I took it off you so fast?” His voice had gone a little rough and now both hands were at her hips, clutching her back and close against him.
“I thought you were wanting to make sure I matched.” She wriggled against him, her hands tugging at his jeans, trying to push them down over his hips.
“I never doubted you.” One hand moved down to cup her, another moved to her breast. She moaned and closed her eyes.
“So… here it is. What you were waiting to see.” She returned the favor and his breath hissed out between clenched teeth.
“Mmhmm.” He caressed his palm over her nipple before giving it a gentle pinch. The fingers of his other hand were teasing at her entrance.
“So, what do you think?” Her voice had gone breathless and her head tipped back against his shoulder.
“That I want you to open your eyes.” He withdrew his hands to remove his pants.
She did and couldn’t repress a shiver of delight at what she saw. Duke stood behind her, naked and perfect and eyes shimmering silver. This time there was none of that awful, fearful tension he had shown before. He pulled the quilt off the bed and folded it onto the floor just behind her.
“Duke?” She wasn’t even sure what she was asking. He stepped onto the blanket and held his hands out to her. She moved to him and let him turn her around in his arms to face the mirror again.
“I want you to watch, Jennifer. I want to watch you. So keep looking at the mirror. Okay?”
She nodded, eyes wide and focused on the spectacle in the mirror. He pulled her down onto her knees with him. She watched his hands trace her frame along her sides and the contrast of his darker skin against her very pale skin was mesmerizing to her. She often felt small next to him, though never unsafe. And now, even though their size difference was starkly illustrated in the mirror, the sight and feel of him and his warmth all around her only fueled her increasing sense of power and she saw her own pale skin begin to glow at his next touch. The feel of his finger tips tracing lightly over her skin felt like electricity rushing over her and her eyes fluttered closed as she felt her body melt further into his, supported by a hand at her throat and the other fondling her sex.
“Open your eyes, Jennifer.” He withdrew his fingers until she complied. “Do you see it? Do you see how your skin is glowing?” She nodded. “Look at me. Watch me love you.” She felt and saw him move behind her and felt him pull at the bow of the panties then watched them fall away. And then he was holding his cock at her entrance.
“You’re mine, Jennifer. You’re mine.” He teased deeper into her entrance and she whimpered in protest when he pulled away.
“Say it. Say you’re mine.”
She smiled wicked at him and moved her hands to his hips. “You’re mine, Duke” she repeated to him as she pushed her hips down onto him, taking him further in. “You’re mine.” His eyes darkened and she felt him shudder slightly at her back. Feeling her triumph and pushing for more she took his hand in hers and drawing it up to her mouth, and gave his finger a long langorous suck. "I'm watching, Duke. Are you?" She repeated the salacious motion her eyes shining with merriment.
He smiled as he bent and kissed her shoulder before giving her a gentle bite there. She shuddered, but her eyes stayed open, meeting his in the mirror while she returned with a nip on the pad of his finger. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m yours Princess.” He pulled his hand away from her and guided her down until she was on her hands and knees before him, kissing her along her shoulder and neck. She pulled in a shuddering gasp and arched her back, her hair falling into her eyes. “I’m yours.” He waited until he could see her eyes again, glowing bright gold from behind the dark curls of her hair. “But you belong to me.” He pressed into her, still holding back from her, still waiting for her to give him what he wanted. Her frustration was a soft cry as she moved her hips in an effort to take him further again and was thwarted with his grasp on her. “Say it.” This time the bite was on the back of her neck and a little harder.
“Tell me you belong to me, Bright Eyes. Tell me that.” He moved just a little bit inside her and her eyes closed again. “Look at me, look at US, Jennifer. And tell me that you’re mine.” She opened her eyes and all of her breath and words caught in her chest and threatened to crowd out her heart. Duke’s eyes were still shining silver and his gaze on her felt like it could burn. “I’ll give you everything,” he promised with a whisper in her ear, the devil himself tempting her now. “Just tell me that you’re mine too.”
“I am yours, Duke. I am. I always have been.”
He smiled at her. “That’s my Princess.” And then he was all the way inside her, and she couldn’t hold his stare in the mirror because she couldn’t help that with him seated fully within her, that fire inside her felt like it raged out of control and could only be contained in his hands. With his next thrust seeming to reach even deeper she couldn’t continue to hold herself up either and felt him follow her down, his mouth at her ear, whispering praise to her and demanding more in the same breath, in between kissing her and giving her soft love bites. “That’s right, Beautiful, show me how you love me. Tell me. Tell me again how you’re my Princess.”
“God Duke! I love you. I love you so much. I’m yours, you know I’m yours.”
“Always?” His movements were slow and gentle and she felt a spiraling inferno in herself that demanded more. He withdrew from her again, only his tip at her entrance, again.
“Yes! Duke...please!” She was going to go insane.
“Open your eyes, Jennifer.”
Did she actually just whimper in protest?
“Open your eyes. Look. See how beautiful you are.”
She did; again. And this time when he thrust into her he gave her what she wanted while he watched her face. One of his hands cupping her jaw so that she couldn’t turn away. She didn’t even try not to scream out her pleasure from it and was vaguely worried about his ears. He only smiled before he bent to kiss her shoulder again.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I’m yours,” she whispered back to him. “Always.”
“I know.”
And then he made sure neither one of them could get a coherent thought or word out.
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