Closet Space

Torchwood/Doctor Who Crossover

2009-07-16T18:16:31Z

Title: 1492 The Conquest of Paradise
Rating: R
Genre: TW/DW crossover, Romance, Angst
Pairing(s): Ianto/Jack , Ianto/Lisa , Jack/(Now that would be telling)
Disclaimer: I don’t own an of the Whoverse (unfortunately) as they belong to the BBC and RTD
Word count: 4162
Warnings: Spoilers for COE
Summary: Is it a name that makes a person?

AN: Idea that took my brain and took it hostage.

1492 The Conquest of Paradise

Now

He woke with a gasp.

His vision was nothing more than a painful bright white light that forced him to slam his eyes shut again and he groaned painfully, rolling onto his side to cough up the remainder of the fatal liquid that had filled his lungs.

Regenerations were always the worst when you had to spew stuff back out of your body afterwards, but at least there no ‘pilot fish’ this time. Nope, just cold, thick, choking liquid that had slowly suffocated him, but at least it’d given his body time to react. To change.

His last regeneration.

After a few more moments he forced himself to open his eyes again, slowly this time, and he carefully blinked away the sticky dry sensation from them. Blurry objects started to become recognisable shapes until finally a room began to form before him. Pushing himself up on shaky limbs until he could sit back on his heels he moved his gaze over his surroundings.

It was a large poorly lit room that reminded him of Earth’s numerous medieval buildings, blue flames flickering on torches attached to the wall and an altar before him where a glass jar lay smashed on its surface, remnants of the liquid that had suffocated him clinging to its sharp edges. He placed a hand to his head as he tried to recall what had happened. There was no one else in the room so whomever had attacked (killed) him had long since vanished, clearly not knowing his true nature.

Their first mistake.

Feeling a terrible anger build in his stomach, he pushed up on still shaking legs but was forced to quickly grab the altar. Keeping his arms locked, he hung his head for a moment and after several long gasps to centre himself he pushed his head up. Right behind the altar was an old, splintering mirror and he stared at his reflection that merely hours ago had been very different.

His eyes, hazel that morning, were now a startling stormy blue (he hadn’t had blue for a while). He looked younger than his last regeneration but still older than the one before that, and his nose was no longer long and slightly crooked, but smaller and more button like (Rose would’ve liked that). In fact, in comparison, this face looked far more clean-cut than he’d been for a while and it niggled at a memory, a face he’d seen before briefly, but he couldn’t place it. He’d certainly need some new clothes as he quite clearly no longer suited the eclectic outfit he now wore, and it was hardly practical anymore.

Maybe a suit of some sort, he had missed wearing pinstripe after all.

Staring for a moment longer he finally felt ready to push himself away from the table. First things first, he had a megalomaniac to go stop.

Then

Screams filled the air accompanied by the heavy footfalls of the Cybermen. Ianto flattened himself against the farthest wall and, after closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he quickly glanced around into the next corridor. He felt a sickening shudder go through him as he witnessed Jason from accountings be ‘deleted’ and willed his legs to run forwards to help the now screaming Harriet, but his knees had locked firmly against any movement. The only thing he could do was pull his head back round from the edge and close his eyes as he heard her screams getting fainter as they led her away.

When his body finally decided to co-operate with his brain it felt like hours had passed. It was silent now in the corridor and, after another quick check, he moved down it, arming himself with a metal bar as he did so.

He had to find her, he had to find Lisa.

Now

It wasn’t until several months later when he found himself bored inside the TARDIS that he finally explored the old rooms of his companions. He didn’t know whether it was nostalgia, or whether enough time had passed that he could now look at Rose’s (brilliant, loving, burning-bright Rose) room without his hearts thumping painfully, or Donna’s (strong, unstoppable, fearless Donna) without missing his best friend like he missed his soul. Instead he smiled as he ran a hand over the collection of nicknacks on their tables, straightening them without thought.

Jack’s room was slightly different. He stepped into Jack’s room and felt...lonely. Was it regret? Mistakes made but seemingly fixed over calling Jack ‘wrong’? Empathy perhaps, at Jack’s pain when he lost that team of his, his Torchwood? Jack had been closed off even more than before when he’d found him two regenerations back, his heart broken but not willing to talk about it as he very briefly travelled with him. Jack had mentioned a name once when he pushed for answers, but when uttered it had been done so with such anguish that he hadn’t forced the issue any further.

Settling himself on the firm bed he fingered the edge of the bedside table. The middle draw was slightly open and, after a moments hesitation, he carefully opened the draw. Inside was a slightly charred tin (battered but holding strong just like Jack), and with a respectful air he pulled it out. Placing it on his lap he gently wiped at the black burn marks, rubbing the ash between his fingers absent-mindedly, and internally debated about opening it.

It had clearly meant enough to Jack for him to salvage it from, he could only assume, the Torchwood rubble after the attack of the 456, but from there he’d left it here on the TARDIS. Maybe to protect it? To have an indestructible ship guard an indestructible man’s memories? It wasn’t like Jack would never see them again after all, sometimes they met up in various times, although he hadn’t seen Jack since he’d regenerated this time.

Internally struggling for a moment longer, he finally caved to his curiosity. Prising the stiff lid off he found a pile of photos with an assortment of trinkets. Placing the photos to one side just for a moment, he fingered the items with the reverence they deserved;

A set of wedding rings, the design of them beautifully ornate and quite clearly of the Victorian era, made his heart’s clench tightly for Jack.

A 21st Century badge with the words “Trust me, I’m a Doctor” made him smile.

A piece of rose quartz warmed his palm as he balanced it in his hand.

Each piece meaning something to Jack, holding a memory of the man who could never die, was lovingly touched and felt, the emotions behind them caressing something in his mind and sometimes he felt like laughing as a sensory memory tickled at his thoughts.

Other times he just wanted to cry for, no...with his funny, broken Captain.

The final item was tucked away in the corner of the tin, something heavy wrapped in silk fabric and he reached for it slowly. It practically hummed with Jack’s emotions and a part of him wanted to just leave it where it was, to not touch this memory that still physically ached after all this time. Taking a deep breath he gently gripped it and pulled it out to rest it in his hand more securely.

The fabric was a tie, red and black stripes diagonally decorating it and it looked worn in the middle, as though it’d been knotted too tightly too many times. For now though it was merely wrapped around the heavier object, and solemnly he unravelled it.

Resting in the palm of his hand was a stopwatch, its glass face smudged and slightly cracked and seeing it like that, in that condition, made his stomach tighten in a way an inanimate object shouldn’t be able to do.

It thrummed with both love and pain, and he held it, mourning whomever it had belonged to for a while, as they clearly still mattered to Captain Jack Harkness in a way that kept his heart shuttered. Most likely to the person whose name he’d only heard once and once had hurt enough. Placing it back into the box with all the other items he moved onto the photos.

Photos of Jack through the ages, on his own or with a team, sometimes a wife, sometimes a child. Each sepia picture held the image of a sombre man who looked young but was not, some looking more relaxed but each one holding a pain in his eyes. With a pang he realised these must’ve been from the time when he was waiting for him, waiting for answers. He continued looking through them until finally he found a group of photos in colour, clearly 21st Century with their glossy surface and he felt the tightness recede a little as Jack smiled more in these pictures.

A group of three, two women, one man with a pinched smile, beamed as they tried to squeeze into the picture. Someone was in the background by what looked like a kitchenette but he couldn’t quite make him out. Another worn photo featured the man with the uncomfortable smile and the young asian woman sharing drinks, another with the other woman who had a cheerful gap-toothed smile.

The next photo stilled his hand and his eyes widened in shock.

This one featured Jack clearly reclining on some sort of sofa or bed, and another young man was lying with him with his head on Jack’s shoulder. They were both smiling up at the camera above them (assumedly held by Jack who had his arm extended up) and they looked...happy.

The next one had the same young man quirking an eyebrow at the photographer as he made drinks in a flat wearing nothing but a t-shirt and boxers. The next was taken by someone else secretly as Jack and the young man shared a kiss at what looked like an arena, the words ‘Grand Slam’ on a banner in the faded background. The next was more poignant in black and white, and had smudge marks from fingertips suggesting Jack favoured this one. The young man was standing on a metal walkway cradling a striped mug in his hands. He was wearing a three piece suit minus the jacket and the photo was a full body profile, the young man staring at something not in the picture. The light and shadows captured him beautifully, both showing and hiding the mysterious man.

Lowering his now shaking hand until it rested in his lap, he looked up and stared in shock at the far wall. Slowly he reached up and fingered the buttons of his own waistcoat, running them up until he could trace the silk of his own tie before looking back down at the photo of the young man.

The photo of himself.

Then

Ianto stared down at his hands, the blood still covering them beginning to dry and flake and he had to fight back a dry-heave at the idea. Jack had dismissed the rest of the team a couple of hours earlier, a mixture of pity and anger on their faces, and he’d left Ianto on the Hub sofa to stare numbly out into the distance. He tried not to think about Jack down there with Lis...with the body.

He had tried so hard, fought so hard for her and it had all come to nothing. All the lies, the gut-wrenching guilt he felt when he lied to Jack, Jack who smiled at him so freely and flirted and made his stomach clench with excitement. Jack who made him hurt in his heart because he shouldn’t be thinking of anyone like that when Lisa was in pain. Jack, who made him so angry, but who he needed to not hate him.

She was dead. And Ianto was stuck in purgatory, awaiting his judgement by a man cared about, even though anger and fear had made other words, ugly words, escape from his lips.

Jack.

Ianto felt his face crumble as his sobs made his shoulders shake and he slowly leaned forwards until his forehead was against his knees. He kept his arms wrapped around his stomach as he cried, heavily and painfully, wrapping them tighter when he felt a hand on his back soothing him.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry...” he whispered brokenly before his sobs stole his voice again and he could only make pained sounds. He let out a heartbroken, relieved cry through his tears when arms encased him and just for a while, he let go.

Now

“No!”

“Jack...”

“Stop it! No!”

“Jack...please...”

“Why are you doing this? Stop it, please, don’t!”

“Jack...it’s me...it’s the Doctor...”

“You’re fucking sick! Whose doing this? How’re you doing this?”

“Jack, come here, look, come here!”

He watched as Jack stilled, his hands forcefully held in place on the Doctor’s chest by his tight grip on Jack’s wrists, forced to feel the two heartbeats. His eyes were wide and wild, his gaze darting from his secured hands to the face that hurt so fucking much to look at.

“It’s me Jack, it IS the Doctor. I don’t understand it either, I promise I don’t, but we’ll work it out, together, like old times.”

“Stop it,” Jack whispered angrily, “Stop using his voice, just stop..please...”

“I’m sorry Jack, I’m so sorry. If I knew of any way to make this not hurt you I would, but I had to show you. Would you have rather we’d run each other with no warning on some planet somewhere? Would you have preferred I not warn you? What would you have said, seeing me there?”

Jack was silent but now his wide eyes were hungrily drinking in the sight of Ianto Jones’ face accompanied by the one physical trait that separated a Time Lord from a Human. His mouth opened a couple of times, closed again when nothing came out until finally he managed a broken whisper.

“Doctor?”

The Doctor smiled and gently rubbed a thumb across the back of a shivering hand still pressed to his chest.

“Hi Jack.”

“But...Ianto...”

“Yeah, him too.”

Jack’s face finally crumbled in grief and his knees gave out. The Doctor caught him and moved down with him to cradle the distraught man in his arms, gently rocking him as centuries of emotional walls were attacked with something they hadn’t even entertained the idea of.

“Doctor...”

“Shh, I have you.”

“Ianto...” Jack sobbed.

Then

Ianto gripped Jack’s biceps tightly as they kissed, his stomach fluttering in both excitement and nervousness as he brushed his tongue hesitantly against Jack’s lips. He heard him give a throaty chuckle as he was granted access and he loosened his grip enough to slowly slide his hands up Jack’s arms to his shoulders, up again to his neck where he cupped the nape. Jack’s hands lightly rested on his waist, moulding Ianto’s shirt to his body before moving one hand to rest at the base of his spine and the other up to his shoulder-blades underneath his jacket.

When Jack started to move them backwards he went trustingly, his breath hitching when the back of his thighs hit Jack’s desk and his heart began to race when still Jack pushed until he was on his back on the wooden surface, his legs hanging off the edge and spread slightly to accommodate Jack between his thighs. Trying to ground himself he placed his hands on Jack’s hips when the other man pulled away from the kiss to smirk down at him. Ianto smiled back up at him, grinning wider when he hitched his legs up higher so the insides of his thighs pressed against jut of Jack’s pelvis. Jack closed his eyes with a pleased groan before opening them again and looking back at him with a positively wicked look in his eyes.

“Better start the stopwatch Ianto Jones,” he said before leaning back down to claim Ianto’s lips again in a passionate kiss, laughing against the grinning lips when he heard a faint click followed by a ticking sound.

Now

The TARDIS hummed soothingly at the two men sat on her sofa in silence. The Doctor watched her console beep and flash before turning to his companion, noting that even though Jack had been silent for a few hours now he still held the Doctor’s hand tightly.

The Doctor oddly liked it, but tried not to analysis it too much given the circumstances. Instead he tightened his own hand and placed them both in his lap as he studied Jack’s profile. He jerked slightly when Jack suddenly turned to stare at him.

“He’s your future,” he said firmly and with no explanation. Regardless, the Doctor understood.

“That’s the conclusion I’ve come to also,” he agreed, “I can only assume that at some point the Chameleon Circuit is going to get used again...I hate that thing, makes me feel like my head’s going to explode.”

Jack barked out a laugh, but it sounded painful as though it was attached to a memory. The Doctor didn’t ask.

“Your future...my past...” Jack said quietly and dropped his head back with a weary sigh. He was silent again and the Doctor watched something flicker across his face.

“Was Ianto Jones even real?” he asked and his voice sounded so broken that the Doctor moved his hand up to cup his face, startling the other man into looking at him. Considering his last few regenerations’ reluctance to touch Jack he wasn’t surprised.

“Jack, you’ve now met five versions of me...is each one the same?”

Jack paused before slowly shaking his head.

“And who do I feel more like?”

Jack blinked when the Doctor’s thumb brushed the skin under his eye gently.

“Ianto.”

“Ianto,” he agreed, “Maybe not exactly the same, I am still the Doctor after all, but I’m Ianto too.”

“But not exactly like him,” Jack continued.

“Well no, of course not. The human version of myself won’t have certain memories that make me me exactly but we are the same person essentially.”

“Tea or Coffee?” Jack said suddenly and the Doctor quirked an eyebrow in confusion.

“Hardly the time to be thinking about beverages Jack.”

“Tea or Coffee?”

“...Why’d you have to bring that up? You do realise I have past regenerations of myself pissed off at me for that...”

“Tea or Cof...”

“Coffee, okay, coffee! Do you know what its like to have versions of yourself shuddering at the idea of...Jack? Jack, are you okay? Jack, are you laughing or crying?”

“Both!” Jack cried hysterically, indeed both laughing and crying.

“I don’t get it,” the Doctor said frowning but allowed himself to be pulled forwards until he was forehead to forehead with Jack. Jack’s hands were cupping his face and stroking the skin there with his thumbs, so the Doctor reached up to Jack’s face to return the gesture. Jack’s eyes darted all over his face as though memorising him all over again.

“Ianto died in my arms...he didn’t regenerate...” Jack said quietly and the Doctor understood.

“My last...You loved him.”

“He said it to me as he died...I didn’t say it back then...I didn’t deserve it.”

“Yes you did Jack,” he whispered.

“How can you say that? How can you say that, knowing you’re destined to die in the arms of a man who is too scared to admit when he feels something even when the person, the one person who knew him and loved him anyway, is dying in his arms!”

“I know, so that means Ianto knows. We die loved, and that is much more than I thought I was going to get.”

Jack just shook his head and the Doctor moved his arms round to embrace his neck. Jack kept his hand firmly on the Doctor’s face but moved one of them to trace the contours of this face that was both new and so familiar. The Doctor allowed him to, closing his eyes as shaky fingers traced his eyebrows, the bridge of his nose, his chin.

“You know, the truly ironic thing is that he was a little bit of jealous of you.”

The Doctor felt one corner of his mouth turn up in a wry smile and chuckled slightly.

“Can’t see why, with a face like this.” Jack snorted wetly in morbid amusement.

“That’s what I said...Doctor, you’re going to die... and you won’t be coming back this time.”

The Doctor said nothing, instead closing his eyes as they continued to rest their heads together.

Then

Ianto stared at his bedroom ceiling before turning his head to look at the slumbering man beside him. He then turned his whole body towards Jack and simply watched the slow, peaceful breaths of his lover, his hand slipping towards him so that it rested beside Jack’s relaxed hand on the sheets.

Then

Ianto laughed loudly as Jack licked his neck, his growled half-hearted threats to ‘gerr’off him’ thankfully ignored. Jack moved up with a cheeky grin and claimed his lips in a playful kiss even as his hand slipped down to cup Ianto’s growing erection, making him groan and arch his back into the touch.

Then

”It’s all my fault.”

“No it’s not.”

“Don’t speak, save your breath.”

“I love you.”

“D...Don’t”

“Ianto? Ianto? Ianto, stay with me...Ianto stay with me please..stay with me, stay with me, please, please!”

“...Hey...it was good yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t forget me.”

“Never could.”

“Thousand years time...you won’t remember me.”

“Yes I will...I promise...I will...Ianto? Ianto...Don’t go...don’t leave me please...please, don’t...”

15 Years after Final Regeneraton

The Doctor gently ran his hand up Jack’s bare chest as he slept, his head tucked under Jack’s chin and his leg hooked over one of his. His fingertips traced invisible scars across the otherwise unblemished skin and up until he stroked the hollow of Jack’s throat. He pushed up a little onto his elbow so he could watch his sleeping lover and he stroked a finger over Jack’s lips.

His time was ending soon, he could feel it. This new enemy was clever, and different, and something neither man had ever come across before, making the Doctor wonder. He’d heard whispers of technology based on technology from Gallifrey, and for a moment he wondered whether it was the Daleks all over again but he knew that that wasn’t it. Knew that wasn’t the technology they spoke of. Knew how they were going to get rid of the final Time Lord.

And that was okay really, because he was so tired now. So tired of running, so tired of being everywhere but belonging no where, just so tired. If it wasn’t for Jack...

Jack.

Beautiful Jack, longing Jack. Jack who loved him as the Doctor, but loved him more as Ianto Jones. Jack who brought out that mortal man from inside him, who made him feel like Ianto Jones. Who fully encouraged an unhealthy obsession with coffee and who gave him a stopwatch (not the one from the tin, never the one from the tin).

Jack who told him stories of adventures he and Ianto went on, because when he changed he wouldn’t remember. Jack...who he loved.

“I love you Jack,” he whispered as he stroked Jack’s face. He then tucked his head back under Jack’s chin and closed his eyes, keeping them closed even when Jack answered softly.

“I love you Ianto Jones.”

Ianto smiled.

Finite

AN2: I think my fic is full of broken people. Oops.

CATS AU extra

2009-06-05T14:27:05Z

Title: Interval
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur (Mr Mistoffelees/Rum Tum Tugger), possibly Galahad/Gawain
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Humour, romance
Word count: 2,292
Disclaimer: I own neither BBC’s version of Merlin nor Andrew Lloyd Webber’s CATS

Summary: A little bonus to my original fic. Through the eyes of Galahad, a recently out teenager whose best friend cheers him up by taking him out to see a show, one that has quite the reputation thanks to two of its actors.

AN: This little extra wouldn’t leave me and I really wanted to write the boys in this ‘verse from someone else’s point of view. Plus the intervals at this musical tend to be great fun.

Original fic here: http://callista-mythol.livejournal.com/8995.html#cutid1

Interval

Galahad sighed again as his best friend, Gawain, continued to chatter aimlessly as he lead the way to the New London Theatre.

“...and the reviews said it’s brilliant, and that the chemistry of the actors is phenomenal, which I personally means that they think the actors are all shagg...”

“Gawain!”

“What?” Gawain said, turning to him with a slightly cheeky smirk, clearly loving the faint colour now flooding Galahad’s cheeks.

The thing about Gawain was that, even though he was an evil tease he was also the best friend one could have. Ever since Galahad had come out to him he’d been nothing but supportive, and when Galahad’s dad kicked him out for being ‘a fucking poof’ he offered him a place to stay. Even now the other boy was going out of his way to cheer his miserable friend up by taking him to the theatre, something Galahad had enjoyed right up until his father used it as one of the many reasons he should’ve seen his son’s ‘oddity’ before. Clearly Gawain was just trying to give him his love for it back.

Didn’t make him any less of a horrid tease though.

“Just...let’s get in okay?”

Gawain, eyes twinkling, agreed and grabbed his hand to lead him ever onwards. And as usual, Galahad followed.

*************************************

Nothing could’ve prepared him for this.

Seriously, nothing.

It was amazing! From the opening song he was riveted (much to Gawain’s amusement) and he leaned forwards with a smile as the cats dressed as cockroaches started to tap dance. Jennyanydots was gleefully leading them in the number and even cheekily smacked the backside of one of the other cats. The tuxedo coloured cat squeaked and rubbed his rear as the white kitten to his side giggled.

“Which one’s that one?” Galahad whispered to Gawain as he watched the tuxedo cat disappear off stage briefly, still rubbing his bum.

“Mr Mistoffelees, Merlin Emrys according to the programme. He’s one of the actors the reviewers keep raving about. Why, you fancy him?”

Galahad turned to glare at his friend but couldn’t help smirking a little.

“It’s a very tight costume.”

Both sniggered, covering their mouths with their hands as a little old lady three seats down shushed them. Still giggling Galahad turned back to watch the show. And just in time it seemed, as the number finished. The next song, however, started soon after.

Galahad practically stopped breathing.

***********************************************

“The Rum Tum Tugger is a curious cat!”

Tugger gyrated his hips again and grinned cheshire-like out into the audience. Turning to Etcetera, he thrust his hips once and made her faint into Alonzo’s arms. He grinned more widely when he heard a jealous hiss come from behind him somewhere.

“And there’s no doing anything about it!”

He ran his hand up and down his own body, listening for the careful steps as a cat climbed off the boot of the car and headed towards him. Grinning evilly, he prepared himself.

“The Rum Tum Tugger is a terrible bore.”

Tugger turned to Mistoffelees and caught the twinkle of amusement in the other cat’s eye. Without warning he clapped his hands to Mistoffelees’ face and leant in. He caught a look of shock on Mistoffelees’ face just as their lips connected and he very quickly massaged the lips under his with his own. When he pulled back he grinned at the dumb-struck look on Mistoffelees’ face. The look quickly changed to ‘embarrassed-but-happy’ and he purred at the same time as Mistoffelees, who turned and ran towards the edge to hide behind a wheel, Demeter laughing as she gently groomed the now blushing cat.

***********************************************

Galahad felt his jaw drop.

Gawain, however, was practically dying of laughter in his seat and put two fingers in his mouth to whistle loudly. It was drowned out though, due to a lot of happily squealing girls in the audience.

“He...He just...Wha...”

“And this,” Gawain said, patting his stunned friend’s shoulder, “is why I waited until I definitely knew it was Arthur Pendragon and Merlin Emrys that were definitely the actors on tonight. I’m sure the other Tuggers and Mistos are good, but these two...well.”

He waved his hand towards the stage where Tugger was leading the excited cats and kittens in a very energetic dance. They both watched as Mistoffelees once again bounded forwards, joining the other cats and dancing to Tugger’s right. They watched as Tugger twirled away from the saucy red cat that Tugger kept avoiding, and they watched as he instead pulled Mistoffelees to his chest to run his hand possessively up the other cat’s body.

“This,” Gawain said proudly, “is the gayest production of CATS ever...and it’s brilliant!”

Galahad laughed and laughed and laughed.

********************************************

The interval came far too quickly as far as Galahad was concerned, but he guessed having the opportunity to buy some ice-cream never hurt, so he handed his money over to Gawain who went to retrieve them.

The reason Gawain had declined his offer to come with him became obvious when he saw the curtains lift not for the next act, but for the chance to have your programmes signed by Old Deuteronomy. He smiled as he watched the children in the audience all lined up to meet the friendly old cat, and took the chance to glance around the set.

He blinked as a couple of the cats from the show popped in and out of the set, clearly still in character. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer were sliding over the floor towards the children and as one little girl dangled her rope-belt end in front of Mungojerrie, he began to swat at it gleefully.

Galahad laughed and turned to see a few more cats, clearly done with their break even though there was still ten minutes to the end of the interval, poked their heads out. He beamed though when he spotted a familiar black and white cat slide out onto the floor.

He watched as a couple of kids gave a happy yell at seeing him. Clearly Mistoffelees enjoyed the attention as he crawled towards them to sniff happily at one boy’s ice cream. The boy giggled and tilted it towards him, Mistoffelees looking between the cream and the boy seemingly trying to decide whether to accept the offer. Before he could though, a very excited white kitten knocked him to one side and the two started to playfully swat at each other.

Galahad laughed and decided that these actors had the best job in the world. They essentially got to play at dress up, perform in a widely adored musical and got away with all manner of things (such as snogging each other on stage).

Talking of which, Galahad perked up when he spotted the infamous Rum Tum Tugger strut on stage.

It was hard to decide which one he fancied the most, Tugger with his obvious in-your-face sexuality or Mistoffelees with his cuteness. Either way, from what Gawain had told him it didn’t matter as these two actors clearly were all over each other, so it’s not like he had a chance either way.

Didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the view.

He didn’t blink as he watched Tugger tilt his head at the two romping cats, stretch down onto the floor and roll onto his back not far from them. Instantly he had an excitable Mistoffelees lying across his chest sideways, effectively pinning him down as the white cat (‘Victoria’ Galahad realised as he checked his programme) swatted at Mistoffelees tail.

The children nearby where laughing and squealing happily as Tugger sat up, making Mistoffelees roll into his lap and rolled again until they settled on their stomachs stretched out next to each other. From there Tugger started to ‘groom’ Mistoffelees and the tuxedo cat chirped.

Galahad felt his stomach squirm pleasantly. It was nice to see two men, two dating men if his friend was to be believed, so comfortable together and so unapologetic about it. He wanted that, that ease to be with each other (and okay so maybe this Merlin and Arthur had the benefit of being actors but there was clearly more than just ‘stage chemistry’ there, that there was real affection), and he was beginning to realise that despite what his arsehole of a father said there really was nothing wrong with being this way.

It’d take a while to be as confident as them, but he’d get there.

For now though he contented himself with watching Tugger hiss at Victoria, who hissed back and slid over to Deuteronomy. Mistoffelees lightly swatted at Tugger’s head in rebuke but Tugger merely stretched to press the tip of his nose to Mistoffelees.

Galahad looked up as Gawain returned with their ice-creams and they smiled at each other contentedly.

******************************************

“So? How awesome am I as a friend?”

Galahad laughed and shook his head in amusement as he sipped his coke. Gawain nudged him with his elbow making him splutter and laugh again.

“You are the awesome of awesomeness.”

“Damn straight,” Gawain said and they toasted with the cokes. They’d slipped into The Prince of Wales pub not far from the theatre after the show had finished, both on a high and not ready to go home yet.

The show, of course, had continued on being thoroughly enjoyable and Galahad hadn’t heard an audience cheer so loudly as when Tugger dipped Mistoffelees into a kiss at the curtain call. It had rounded off the evening magnificently, as far as Galahad was concerned.

“And how are you feeling now?” Gawain asked more seriously and Galahad turned to look at him. He smiled and made to answer but his attention was caught when a group of five people came into the pub. Frowning, he quickly checked his programme before squeaking and darted his eyes back over to the new arrivals.

“What?” Gawain said turning in his seat and Galahad heard him gasp.

“Isn’t that...”

“Yep.”

Arthur Pendragon, Merlin Emrys, Morgana Le Fay, Gwen DeGrace and Lance Du Luc took a corner table as they all chatted loudly, laughing and joking with each other. Galahad felt winded and oddly happy to see traces of make up still visible in odd places on their faces, like near their hairlines or on their ears. He felt even more breathless when Arthur draped his arm casually over Merlin’s shoulders and quickly stole a kiss.

“God, they look even better out of costume,” Galahad heard Gawain mutter and frowning in confusion he turned to glance quickly at his friend. Gawain merely cocked an eyebrow at him.

Galahad turned back to the group, watching as Merlin, who was speaking to Gwen, dropped his hand onto Arthur’s thigh.

“Did you see...”

He stopped as he noticed Gawain was no longer beside him and looked around frantically. His heart stopped as he turned back to the group to find his friend quietly talking to the group, Arthur and Merlin’s heads tilted up at Gawain and smiling politely as he spoke. He blushed when Gawain pointed over at him and the two actors looked across with kind smiles, Merlin taking the programme from Gawain and starting to write something. Arthur however stepped round them both and headed towards Galahad.

Galahad’s heart pounded in his chest and he thought, just for a second, that he might throw up.

“I take it you’re Galahad?” Arthur said softly as he reached him and Galahad nodded shakily.

“Your friend was saying that you’ve been having a hard time lately, with coming out?”

Galahad blushed horribly and groaned quietly. He threw a look over at his smiling friend and nodded again when he turned back to Arthur.

“It’s not an easy thing to do, admitting it,” Arthur said patting his shoulder, “And I can safely say you’re handling it a lot better than I did when I first realised.”

“Really?” Galahad said and Arthur smiled at him warmly.

“Ask Merlin, I was a berk.”

Galahad laughed and Arthur grinned widely. He sobered up as he continued though.

“But the thing is you’ve got a great friend over there who clearly cares enough to want to make you happy. That helps a great deal, believe me.”

“Did you have a friend to help?” Galahad said quietly and Arthur turned to look at the group back at the table with a soft look on his face.

“I had Merlin.”

Galahad felt that that said it all really. Both he and Arthur smiled when Merlin glanced over his shoulder at them, his face split in a big joyful grin as he waved at them both.

“Keep hold of your friend, and you’ll be okay. It was nice meeting you Galahad.”

“You too...thanks,” Arthur clapped his shoulder one last time and made his way back to the group, passing Gawain on the way as his friend leapt back onto his stool.

“Kill me later,” he said cheerfully and Galahad laughed as he pushed lightly at his shoulder.

“I’m pushing you in front of the first moving vehicle I see,” he threatened and Gawain swatted him with his programme before handing it to him with a gentle smile. Returning it Galahad read the message from Merlin and smiled.

To Galahad, persevere and you too may have your own prat to love and adore. Good luck to you, Merlin (and Arthur) xx

Fin

CATS AU

2009-05-13T19:31:24Z

Title: Effanineffable
Rating: PG-13 mostly, then briefly R
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur (with a hint of Rum Tum Tugger/Mr Mistoffelees), Gwen/Lance
Genre: Modern AU based in the colourful word of Musical Theatre
Word count: 10,005

Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to the BBC and CATS belongs to Andrew Lloyd-Webber and Mr T.S Eliot. I’m merely playing in the kitty box kiddies.
Summary: Oh well there never was a cat so clever as magical Mr Mistoffelees...
Merlin and Arthur are actors on the West End

AN: It sunk its teeth in and wouldn’t let go. A HUGE thank you to wordmythology for helping me with all the facts and details that is musical theatre and I only hope I’ve done it justice! I should also point out that chippyofyonder also has a CATS story planned so look out for that :D This is unbetaed so all mistakes are my own. Due to my work load I literally wanted to get this out of my head so maybe I’ll beta it properly later in the year but for now, without further ado, I give you Merlin and Arthur in Lycra! Oh and if you do find you want to use the images please ask first, thank you :D

Act I - The Magical, Mystical Mr Mistoffelees

He really needed to stop listening to Gwen.

Okay so maybe she was right when she said that he would be perfect for the role, and also that it’d be truly amazing for him to get it considering he was straight out of The Academy. Merlin couldn’t really deny that and to be fair what was currently happening actually had very little to do with Gwen’s recommendation and Gaius’s promptings or his possibly getting the role.

It was all to do with Arthur bloody Pendragon, Darling of the fucking West End, as anyone who was anyone was quick to inform you. But everything leading up to his meeting the pompous prat came from well into his childhood.

Admittedly his mother had enrolled him into his first dance class when he was five because she hoped to find a less conspicuous outlet for his...unique abilities. Will, his best friend since he was in infant school, insisted this was also proof it was Hunith’s fault for Merlin’s later romantic tastes but Merlin couldn’t really agree as he had been offered a chance to play football like all the other boys, but he’d picked dancing himself.

Merlin can remember after that being eleven years old and sitting far too close to the television as he watched a video of Andrew Lloyd-Webber’s CATS at his Nana’s house (sadly now unwatchable from its years of use, although he had replaced it with the DVD version as soon as he possibly could). He can remember the way he’d smile and sing along when Mr Mistoffelees, his favourite character, came on and how he felt less like the weird kid that everyone claimed he was (even when they did admire his innate dancing abilities).

In this world of singing, dancing cats the fact that one of them could create dazzling lights and explosions with nothing more than his hands was celebrated and sung about. Merlin remembered how excited he was and how he’d run to tell his mother ‘See! See, its okay, I’m like Mr Mistoffelees, its okay!’ before he’d turned on his toes just like the magical cat and just like he’d been taught in his classes.

When he turned 14 his mother had surprised him with not only extra classes in Ealdor’s School of Dramatic Arts but also she’d saved up some money for him to go see CATS live at the Bristol Hippodrome. He’d practically run around like a mad man when he opened the envelope incasing the ticket, hugging his mother tightly everytime he passed her on a lap of the house making her laugh.

To be in that theatre surrounded by his childhood dream meant he spent the entire night with a bubbling excitement in his stomach, just waiting for his favourite character to come on.

What he hadn’t expected was the stirring he felt in his lower regions only six songs into the first act.

The Rum Tum Tugger had admittedly been another favourite of his but he’d always assumed his admiration for the character had been the fact that he was just so damn cool. But when he happened to be only sitting two rows from the stage and the Tom started gyrating his hips making all the female cats squeal, Merlin found it hard to contain a whimper himself. It probably didn’t help that the actor picked up on the audiences pleasure of watching him and winked out to them frequently. Merlin had been so distracted that the next three numbers of the show he could barely remember and he considered it safe to say he developed quite a crush on the character after that.

It had been all those experiences that had led him towards wanting to become a serious West End actor. When he’d told his careers advisor she’d sighed and tried to get him to consider a ‘real’ career but Merlin knew that if he did one thing in his life, it would be to play Mr Mistoffelees and no cynical middle-aged woman was convincing him otherwise.

Which brought him right back to his current situation, standing in front of Arthur Pendragon as the man looked him up and down slowly.

Merlin glared once again at the annoying, arrogant prick standing in front of him, arms crossed over a muscular chest and blonde hair sweaty from practice plastered to his forehead as he quirked an unimpressed eyebrow at Merlin.

“You? Seriously?” he said and Merlin bristled at the tone.

“What do you mean ‘You’?” he snapped and Arthur, clearly more deranged than Merlin initially thought, grinned at him. It wasn’t, however, an entirely friendly grin.

“Come on, you’re a newbie,” Arthur said in a way that suggested he thought that explained everything, “Fresh out of school according to Guinevere, you’ve only just learnt how to stand on your bird like dancing legs. Do you really think you’re ready for something like this?”

Merlin was not a violent man but right then he wanted nothing more than to slap the mocking smirk off of the other man’s (admittedly attractive) smug face.

“Fu...”

“Merlin! Hey, you made it!”

Jerking his head round Merlin felt a little of the tension in his shoulders dissipate and turned bodily away from a now frowning Arthur to face Gwen, who was closing in on him with her arms out. Grinning, he stepped forwards and the two hugged tightly, Merlin even lifting Gwen slightly off her feet and making her giggle. When he placed her back on the floor she beamed at him.

“I’m so glad you could make it, Gaius has been talking Uther’s ear off about you and the other producers are looking forward to meeting you too. Hey Arthur,” she added belatedly. Arthur in reply grunted and walked off the way Gwen had just come.

“What an ass,” Merlin said and Gwen rolled her eyes as she grabbed his hand and lead him the same way.

“He’s usually okay, what did you do to him?”

“Me!” Merlin said indignantly, “ He’s the one that came over and scoffed all over me. Here I am waiting patiently for my harlot of a friend,” (Gwen elbowed him with a glare), “ when all of a sudden this sweaty, and can I say rather smelly, blonde haired ponce comes waltzing up to me and starts insulting me. I did nothing!”

“I thought you liked sweaty men coming over to you?” Gwen said with a smirk and Merlin snorted before elbowing her back.

“I like my men polite and with deodorant thank you Miss DeGrace!”

Gwen laughed and linked her arm through his. The familiar bickering calmed his nerves slightly as he stepped through the door and was greeted with a large dance hall. At the end of the hall sat a row of men and women, Gaius smiling at him from his seat and helping to relax him further.

When his mother had informed Merlin that his Uncle Gaius was on the production team of CATS a few months back and that he’d been recommending him to the notorious Director Uther Pendragon, Merlin had been ninety five percent sure that he’d hit his head and was now living in a bizarre world via coma (course there was always the chance he’d been watching too much of John Simms around the time as well, so he thought it best to leave it at that). It was thanks to both Gaius’s continuous praises and Gwen’s (who already had her part in the musical as Demeter) pestering that Uther had even considered auditioning a recent graduate.

It was obvious also from his unimpressed face that he was ready to endure a painful display of fumbling, inexperienced dancing. It really didn’t help that Arthur (and why was it that whilst they were judging him for using his connections, that no one pointed out the whole ‘Father-Director, Son-Actor’ thing?) was barely suppressing a condescending smirk behind his fist.

Gwen broke away from him and smiled encouragingly as she made her way over to the table where the Director and producers sat, moving behind them and giving Merlin a secret thumbs up.

“I take it your Gaius’s nephew Merlin Emrys?” Uther said lazily as he flicked through the paperwork attached to his clipboard.

“Yes Sir,” Merlin replied, possibly more quietly than he usually would but the nerves were nibbling away at him by this point.

“Fine, go,” Uther said and looked up. The sudden expectation startled Merlin slightly but he gathered himself gamely and quickly glancing over to the sound man he nodded once.

And then he danced.

*************************************

Act II - The Rum Tum Tugger is a Curious Cat

“Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God...”

“Gwen...Gwen, calm down...”

“Oh my God,” Gwen said for a final time flapping her hands excitedly as she bounced on the balls of her feet, “I mean, I knew you were good, I trained with you but...Oh My God!”

“Yeah you covered that bit,” Merlin said grinning. He couldn’t really blame her considering she was merely displaying what he felt like inside.

“I even think I saw Uther’s jaw drop at some point, those fouettés were incredible!”

“Took the words right out of my mouth.”

Both Merlin and Gwen turned to watch Gaius approach them with a beaming smile. He drew Merlin into a hug, whom returned it just as tightly, before letting go and standing with his hands cupping Merlin’s shoulders proudly.

“I knew you could do it, Uther thinks you’re perfect for the role. He’s decided to play up the whole ‘debut’ thing as well, he thinks it’ll make good publicity to feature on a new star.”

“So its strongly advised you don’t fuck up.”

Merlin bristled at the voice and turned to glare at Arthur standing behind him. He was looking considerably less smug now, much more annoyed in fact, and Merlin mentally wondered how a ten minute meet, one audition and now a few seconds of conversation could put them into a place where they already snapped at each other. It was even more of a shame that such a horrendous personality came from something that pretty.

“I may be just a ‘newbie’ on my ‘bird like dancing legs’ in this production but I assure you my dedication to it isn’t, so I’d truly appreciate it if you stopped coming up to me, an only recently acquainted stranger to you may I add, and keep insisting I’m going to fail because you’re just going to upset yourself all over again when you realise, hey, I actually am that good!”

Arthur blinked in surprise, flushing slightly. Gwen had her fingers to her lips watching them both warily whilst Gaius was more curious. He glanced between the two young men before recognising the signs of Arthur gathering himself to say something pretty scathing and cut in.

“Arthur, Merlin you are colleagues now, two major characters in a well-loved play may I add, so I strongly suggest you get your acts together, stop pissing up the wall and learn to get along. If you don’t it’ll seep into your acting, which will seep into your singing, which will then seep into the audience and if you both mess this up for everyone you are more than welcome to stand before both Uther and Andrew lloyd-Webber and explain why their revival of a treasured musical flopped.”

And with that Gaius turned and left leaving three stunned young actors in his wake.

It was Arthur who pulled himself together quickest and turned to look sharply at Merlin.

“Just don’t blow it,” he said tersely and then he too left.

“Prat,” Merlin muttered as he ignored the sigh from beside him, “He’s a rubbish choice for Munkustrap.”

“Munkustrap? Where’d you hear that?” Gwen said looking at him in confusion, a look he returned when he glanced at her.

“That’s what the rumours are. He’s not Munkustrap?”

“No, he’s Rum Tum Tugger.”

Merlin blinked.

He blinked again.

“Dammit!”

************************

************************

Act III - The Rum Tum Tugger is a terrible bore

He was sitting in the make-up chair when the excited nerves began to hit Merlin hard. He was already in the infamous lycra suit, Mistoffelees’ added tuxedo accessories already in place and his wig was being styled into ears as he stared at his reflection wide-eyed. It was only the face to go and then he’d be Mr Mistoffelees, his childhood hero and fellow conjuror.

“Oh my God,” he whispered and clenched his fingers on the arms of the chair tightly.

“You okay?” the make up artist asked and he pulled himself together enough to blink at her stupidly before nodding. She seemed to understand though because she grinned and patted his shoulder as she stepped away to retrieve her kit.

“If you need to throw up bathrooms out back,” she said casually and Merlin huffed out a laugh.

“No I’m okay, just excited.”

“And nervous?”

“Like a mouse amongst cats.”

“Meh, you look more catlike to me.”

Merlin turned to look over the top of his chair and grinned as two women dressed entirely as cats entered the room. Gwen was barely recognisable under the make up but she waved maniacally at him and bounded over making him feel better with her presence already.

“Merlin you look amazing!” she said and tilted his head to look at his ‘ears’ better, “Although I can already tell I’m going to envy your cheekbones once the make ups on. You’re as bad as Morgana.”

“I know who Victoria will be prowling around with tonight,” Morgana said as she walked over to the pair of them gracefully and rested against the dressing table.

Morgana had been well picked for the role of the elegant white kitten so easy to spot amongst all the other Jellicles. She too had been a student at the Royal Academy of Dance but had graduated before Merlin ever knew of her, and they’d become firm friends since because of it. Of course, the fact that they both wanted to kick Arthur Pendragon in the balls and then pirouette around his crumpled wheezing body everytime he opened his mouth had certainly added to the strong foundations of their friendship as well.

“Well, Mistoffelees will welcome the company,” Merlin returned with a grin.

“Except when you’re squealing over Tugger,” Gwen added and smirked when Morgana glared at her. They both let the make up artist slip through when she returned to finish Merlin’s costume.

“You warmed up yet?” Merlin asked Morgana as the cool wet brush of the artist started to paint around his nose.

“Waiting for you,” she answered with a shrug and Merlin nodded slightly in reply.

“As are we all.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Merlin muttered as Arthur’s now unfortunately familiar voice came from behind him.

“Arthur, to what do we owe the displeasure?” Morgana said whilst flicking lint off of her thigh. Merlin grinned and was promptly scolded for doing so as the artist began to work on his lips.

“I figured someone better start rounding up you three ladies,” Arthur said and Merlin could hear the smirk in his tone.

“Called a girl because I do ballet, wow I’ve never heard that one. You must be the first person to make that association ever.”

Morgana snorted softly and winked at Merlin who returned the gesture. Gwen had given up playing mediator long before tonight and had instead moved round to better watch Merlin’s transformation.

“Shouldn’t you be getting into costume?” Merlin said tersely to the other man (who annoyingly was standing out of the way of the mirror).

“I’m ready, just you last stragglers left now.”

“Well, you can make that no longer a straggler because I’m done,” the artist said and then she moved.

Merlin beamed happily when he saw his reflection.

Staring back at him was Mr Mistoffelees in all his glory. Merlin had had bits of the costume on to practice in, had had swatches of make up placed on his skin to check his reaction to it and had done very dressed down versions of the costume in rehearsals but this was his first time seeing the final complete outfit. He turned his head this way and that to fully check out his feline ears, and he resisted the urge to touch his face in its new colour.

“Wow,” he breathed and Gwen giggled at him as he stood. He turned to look at his back in the mirror before turning his head back round to face forwards.

And froze.

Whilst Arthur had just informed him he was already in costume he hadn’t really taken into consideration how much he’d appreciate seeing his hero/crush so up close. Even with the studded belt and infamous mane missing Arthur already personified the rebellious tom more than Merlin ever wanted to admit. The tawny wig had already been shaped into its quiff and Arthur’s facial features were now highlighted in wild stripes and a curved mouth.

Merlin’s mouth felt dry and there was a distant part of him that was telling himself off quite considerably for turning to mush. He squashed it abruptly and swallowed thickly as his eyes scaled up and down the toned body of his fellow actor.

“Merlin? Hey Merlin, you hit your head or something or is your suit on too tight?”

And then Arthur opened his mouth and brought Merlin back to reality with a considerably bump. Shaking his head slightly he scowled instead and folded his arms over his chest.

“For a second there I was impressed, then you reminded me why it is I remain utterly under-whelmed.”

Pushing past a growling Arthur he was followed by a smirking Morgana and an apologetic Gwen. He turned to address Morgana and the two of them went to the next available space to warm up.

*************************************************

Mistoffelees ducked as The Rum Tum Tugger kicked a football at him and slid elegantly to the floor. He rolled his eyes as all the kittens fawned over the insufferable tomcat and decided to get his two cents in.

“The Rum Tum Tugger is a terrible bore,” and then he walked off to the side ignoring the playful smirk from the Tugger thrown his way.

How could a fellow cat be that indecisive about simple things in life? Really, it truly esca...

Mistoffelees paused as Tugger skidded down onto his knees, still singing his own praises, and thrust his hips rhythmically before slipping back up onto his feet, his rear high in the air. Why it made his pause was beyond him but he had a feeling his racing heart knew. It really didn’t help that a few moments later Tugger gyrated his hips round whilst stroking a hand up and down his own body making Mistoffelees feel extremely flushed.

Bombalurina started singing and swinging her tail as she moved suggestively towards The Rum Tum Tugger and Mistoffelees growled low in his throat startling Jellyorum beside him.

“If you offer me cream then I sniff and sneer, because I only like what I find for myself...”

Mistoffelees watched jealously as Tugger ran his hand up the red bodied female.

“...No.”

And then he purred as she was thrown to the floor. Feeling rejuvenated he bounded up and started dancing with the other cats caught in the tom’s thrall.

“The Rum Tum Tugger is a curious cat! The Rum Tugger doesn’t care for a cuddle!”

************************

***********************

Act IV - Can you look at the King, would you sit on his throne?

Merlin groaned as his alarm clock beeped loudly at him again and reached out from under the covers to swat at it. When he missed he simply sighed, visualised his clock in his mind and then cringed when he heard a loud bang from its general direction.

“Bugger, fifth one this month,” he muttered into his pillow before groaning again and arching his back.

Just as he flopped inelegantly onto his stomach his mobile started blaring out the Ghostbusters theme tune and he sighed.

“Alright, alright, message received.”

Rolling sideways and swinging up into a sitting position he yawned widely, stretched, and as he brought his hand down he flopped it onto his phone and answered it with a lazy press of his thumb.

“Hu-hu-hello?” he said yawning again.

“Merlin! Get out of bed and come have breakfast with me, I have something to show you!”

“Morning Gwen.”

“Get up get up, meet me at the Starbucks just round the corner from you in 15 minutes, bye!”

And then Gwen was gone again leaving Merlin staring at his mobile screen in confusion. Shrugging, he stood up slowly scratching his stomach and made his way to the shower.

****************************
“Look!”

Merlin fell into his seat with the aid of Gwen tugging him down and even before he could get a greeting out he had a copy of Encore magazine shoved under his nose. Pulling it away from his face so that he might actually be able to read it, he flattened it onto the table and read it half mumbled aloud.

CATS opens with a Me-Yoowza!

The New London Theatre became a cats playground last night with the limited time revival of Andrew Lloyd-Webber’s CATS. The audience was practically buzzing with excitement, a fever thrilling through the rows until finally the house lights went down and the stage lights took us into the wonderful world of cats!

The dancing and feline grace is phenomenal, the singing exceptional. Lance Du Luc shines as Munkustrap and Dame Helen Aria captivates us in the powerfully delivered ‘Memory’. Arthur Pendragon struts across the stage in a cacophony of sexual prowess making girls want him and boys want to be him, proving once again to his critics that his part was well-earned and not merely handed to him by his father, the Director Uther Pendragon.

This revival also welcomes Merlin Emrys into its fold, a graduate this year from The Royal Academy of Dance but don’t let his inexperience fool you. In his role as Mr Mistoffelees he takes the audiences breath away with his fluid movement and the ability to perform what appear to be near impossible defiances against gravity. Even more surprising is he has decided to take on the singing for his role also, not necessarily a requirement for the character’s actors as the character does perform some of the most difficult choreography that needs the actors full attention. When he first stepped on to the stage I’ll admit there was an initial timidness but it was soon lost as Emrys gave himself up entirely to his part.

The show has officially opened with a bang and something tells me its only going to get better. Now be as quick as a cat and get yourself to the show!

Merlin was beaming by time he had reached the end and when he looked over at Gwen he found her matching him grin for grin.

“Would it be terribly gay of me to squeal really loud right now?” he said and she laughed as she pulled out another copy of the magazine from her shoulder-bag.

“For Hunith,” she said, “And keep that one for yourself. Talk about a well-received debut.”

“I can’t believe it,” Merlin said and placed his fingers to his lips as he tried to hide his widening grin, “I mean...I’ve been building my entire life up to this moment. I feel like...I don’t know what I feel like!”

Gwen giggled and Merlin looked at her again. They both had a glint in their eye and before anyone knew it they jumped up chanting loudly, crowing out their victory (startling the early patrons enough that some spilled their drinks) and jumped on the spot as they hugged.

***************************
Merlin arrived early to rehearsals, already buzzing from the pleasant morning in Gwen’s company. He practically flew into the hallway leading to the dressing rooms and was two doors from his own when the one beside him opened suddenly. Turning, he groaned internally when he was greeted by Arthur leaning casually against his doorjamb with his arms folded across his chest and his feet crossed at the ankle.

“It was too good a day, I knew it, it couldn’t possibly last,” Merlin muttered to himself and made to pass when a hand clamped around his upper arm lightly.

“Hey,” Arthur said and Merlin quirked an eyebrow at him indignantly, looking pointedly at the hand still on him and then back up again.

“Do you regularly grab at those you work with or am I just special?”

“I wanted to say...I made a mistake...it was unfair to judge you without seeing you in action,” Arthur said quietly and even though he had trouble maintaining eye-contact with Merlin, the sentiment sounded honest enough. Honest enough that Merlin was struck dumb and left at a loss to what he should say.

“Um...”

“Look, in my defence the chances of someone graduating and getting a place in a huge production like this is pretty much second to none, so when I heard that we were getting a producer’s nephew in...”

“You decided to make a flash judgement before even meeting me and then continued to treat me like shit all the way through the rehearsals until the big night?” Merlin finished for him and Arthur had the grace to look a little bit guilty.

“I just...my father’s always been in theatre and so I’ve been surrounded by it since I was little. When I saw CATS for the first time I just knew that...”

“...You had to be in it...” Merlin said quietly and Arthur looked up at him in surprise before smiling minutely.

“Exactly,” Arthur said matching his tone, “And I guess...I just didn’t want anything to mess it up.”

Merlin was thrown by the honesty and paused as he studied the other man. Arthur was still a prat, he’d seen him with other people too much to know that he wasn’t, but he had to admit...

Arthur smiled one last time and turned to go back into his dressing room, tossing a casual “Later loser,” over his shoulder.

...He certainly felt like he had a little more insight into how the prat worked. And he couldn’t help but smile, snort in amusement and carry on his way shaking his head.

**************************

Mistoffelees batted at Tugger playfully as he passed him blowing his make-shift bagpipes and Tugger flicked his tail at him in good humour knocking his ‘dog-head’ slightly.

Mistoffelees chirped happily and ran over to Skimbleshanks to do a little impromptu highland dancing.

“Then the Pugs and the Poms, held no longer aloof, but some from the balcony, some from the ROOF!”

Munkustrap lead them all again in a round of barks and continued on with the play. Mistoffelees dropped to the ground with everyone else at Munkustrap’s cry and grinned as the tale of the Great Rumpus Cat unfolded. When they all jumped up to dance again Tugger hopped out with his beloved bagpipes, once more making Munkustrap sigh, but Mistoffelees grinned and let out another chirp of amusement.

Dropping his shoulders in humorous defeat he dragged his bagpipes away but not before giving Mistoffelees a little wink.

Mistoffelees found that he had an extra spring in his step after that.

****************************

****************************

Act V - He looked at the sky and he gave a great leap!

“Drinks!”

Everyone cheered before resuming their conversations. There was no show running that night, only Uther really knew why, but all the cast had decided to meet up at one of the pubs and the local Prince of Wales won.

Merlin swallowed down another gulp of his pint, licking his lips absently to clear it of the foamy moustache and winced when another peanut bounced off his cheek.

“Arthur, throwing peanuts at him won’t endear you to him.”

“Thank you Morgana.”

“You two are no fun.”

“No, we’re just not enthralled by your immature ways.”

Merlin snorted into his drink and coughing placed it back on the table as he wiped his mouth with his hand. Morgana patted his back lightly whilst Arthur snickered and Merlin, fighting his own smile, threw a peanut back at him.

“Oi!”

“Can’t leave you alone for two minutes can we?”

Gwen sat done on the other side of Morgana and Lance, their beloved Munkustrap minus the face paint, sat down next to her. Merlin had been keeping an eye on the blooming romance occurring between these two, and had come to the conclusion that it was unlikely there was anyone nobler than Lance Du Luc in the world meaning his friend’s heart was probably in safe hands.

Plus it was stupidly cute, as Morgana would say.

“I can’t help myself,” Arthur injected after taking his own pint out of Lance’s hand, “I just have to mar that girlish face of his, and ever the resourceful soul that I am, I decided that the peanuts would have to suffice.”

“So in other words you were pulling his pigtails?” Morgana said with a wicked grin and Merlin felt he had to object to that insinuation.

“Hey!”

Curiously though Arthur said nothing, merely scowled at the smug woman across the table before launching one of his projectiles at her instead. He managed to get it down her top, making her squawk indignantly and Arthur crowed proudly. Merlin sighed and returned to his drink trying to look like he wasn’t with them even though he was sat at their table.

“The Rum Tum Tugger has perfect aim!”

“The Rum Tum Tugger is going to get neutered by Victoria if he does that again!”

“...Mr Mistoffelees thinks both Tugger and Victoria are clinically unhinged as they are referring to themselves by their character’s names.”

“Demeter is going to leave you guys to it and go ravish Munkustrap back at home if you all don’t behave.”

“Guinevere!” Morgana said laughing and Merlin plugged his ears with his fingers.

“I’ve known you since you were seven, I don’t want to hear such filth!”

Lance and Arthur laughed as Gwen slapped his hands down lightly.

“Big prude.”

“I’m not a prude, I just don’t need to hear about your sex life...especially considering how dry mine is right now.”

“Ah don’t worry Merlin,” Arthur said as he patted his hand condescendingly, “I’m sure one of the girls here will get drunk enough to let even you have a go. In fact Nimueh in the corner there is looking particularly hammered.”

“As nice as that is,” Merlin said tugging his hand out from underneath Arthur’s hand and blushing ever so slightly (a reaction he was studiously ignoring because that took him places far too complicated) he returned the annoying hand-pat, “I’m afraid they severely lack something I rather enjoy.”

Whether it was the couple of pints in him or whether it just never occurred to him before, it clearly took Arthur a moment to work out the cryptic meaning behind Merlin’s words before his eyes widened in surprise.

“You’re gay?”

“Arthur’s gaydar needs upgrading, he’s missing even the obvious ones these days...no offence Merlin.”

“None taken Morgana.”

“You’re gay?” Arthur said again.

“Quick, hit him, he’s stuck in a loop!”

“Yes Arthur,” Merlin said quickly as Morgana made to beat the stunned man around the head, “I’m gay. I’m warning you now though any connection you make between me being gay and a danseur will result in me holding you down as Morgana sticks you in her costume.”

“He’d make a very pretty Victoria,” Morgana agreed before sipping her drink.

“No I...I just...but you’re always with these two! Flirting”! Arthur said and it almost sounded indignant to Merlin, as though the concept of a gay man flirting with girls was beyond him.

“Fun flirting, not serious flirting Arthur,” Gwen said and Lance nodded, which made Arthur scowl at him.

“Don’t tell me he’s been flirting with you too!”

“No he just shags me rotten,” Lance said calmly and Arthur choked on air making Merlin roll his eyes.

“He’s kidding you prat.”

“Oh.”

Merlin took pity on Arthur (who looked thoroughly confused by everything around him) and leaned in towards him.

“Look, it doesn’t really matter. I don’t make a habit of going around introducing myself with ‘Hi, I’m Merlin! By the way I’m gay!’ If someone asks me right out, then I won’t deny it, but it really isn’t that big a deal. I mean, you work in the West End for goodness sake, surely you’ve encountered more gays working here than if you’d gone on the pull round Soho!”

Arthur snorted in amusement (and if it seemed a little panicked Merlin chose to ignore it) and after staring at Merlin for a couple of seconds he nodded, grinned and slapped him playfully on the shoulder.

“Should’ve guessed really, what with your undying love for me and everything.”

Merlin quirked an eyebrow at him, picked up one of the discarded peanuts and threw it at Arthur where it connected rather beautifully right between the other man’s eyes.

****************************

For the next week after their night out Merlin noticed that maybe Arthur wasn’t as entirely comfortable with him being gay as he initially made out.

It wasn’t that he said or did anything cruel, quite the opposite in fact, his banter with Merlin had reached new heights that if one was being honest then one might think it was flirting. He’d find ways of touching Merlin, whether it was through a pat on the shoulder or a quick light grip to his arm to get his attention. He’d started to hang around with him through breaks, and helped him with his stretches when Merlin required someone just to push his leg back just a little further as he lay on the floor arching his back (and the suggestive position that put them in left Merlin more confused and flushed than he would rather be).

No, it was afterwards that made Merlin question Arthur’s comfort. It wasn’t every time, only ever after the extreme incidents (such as the stretching) where he would suddenly go still, excuse himself and head towards some of the female cast who would promptly simper at him. Sophia especially enjoyed running a possessive hand down Arthur’s arm when he neared, looking over Arthur’s shoulder at Merlin with a look that suggested he was to make himself scarce. Not that Merlin ever did, he simply stared back at her with a raised eyebrow, smirked before shaking his head and turning his attention back to Morgana or Gwen.

“Oop, looks like Arthur’s running low on masculinity again, too much gay for him today. Good job he has the local bike station to refuel at,” Morgana said and smirked herself when Gwen swatted her arm.

“Stop calling Sophia the bike station.”

“I’ll stop calling her that when she stops acting like the village bike.”

“Meow,” Merlin said, “Someones catty.”

“Ugh, old joke. I’ll let you get away with it because this is your first year, but just this once,” Morgana patted his shoulder as she spoke and Merlin chuckled.

“Arthurs silly,” Gwen said decisively, “You’d think a man who wears a lycra suit, dances and sings in the West End would be able to handle high doses of gay.”

“Maybe because he wears lycra, dances and sings that he’s all maxed out.”

“Who could get enough of Merlin? Hey gorgeous,” Lance said to Merlin as he joined them.

“Hiya honey,” he said in return and the two air-kissed each other’s cheeks. Gwen giggled and put her arm around Lance’s waist whilst Morgana just looked like she was imagining pleasant, filthy things.

“We were just saying that apparently Arthur freaked out because he exceeded his gay for the day,” Morgana said looking over to the man in question and scowling as she watched him place his hands lewdly on Sophia’s hips.

Lance, rather curiously, looked like he was seeing more there than they all were. He glanced at Arthur’s display of being the ladies man, glanced at Merlin, before looking back at Arthur with a small knowing smile.

“What?” Merlin said, stretching the word out as he glared suspiciously at his friend.

“Nothing,” Lance said pleasantly, “Don’t worry.”

Merlin continued to glare at him for a few more seconds before turning his head to look over at Arthur. Arthur happened to look over at the same time and the two locked eyes for the brief moment before a pink blush spread across Arthur’s cheeks and he looked away.

Merlin looked away too and gamely ignored the heat that spread across his own face.

******************************

Mistoffelees threw out his magic causing sparks to fly up around him, twirled and stretched impressively as Tugger strutted towards him.

“His manner is vague and aloof, and you’d think there was nobody shyer.”

They matched step for step as they stepped forwards. Mistoffelees purred as he turned for his dance and caught Tugger’s proud smirk, making his stomach clench happily.

“But his voice has been heard on the roof, when he was curled up by the fire. And he’s sometimes been heard by the fire, when he was about on the roof...”

They both danced backwards with their arms stretching from one side to the next and Mistoffelees couldn’t resist brushing his fingers over Tugger’s mane as he did so.

“At least we all heard that somebody purred which is incontestable proof!”

He knew his action had been caught when Tugger strolled behind him as he twirled and when he stopped the tom sneakily brushed his fingers across the small of his back. Mistoffelees chirped and grinned.

“And not long ago this PHENOMENAL cat,” Mistoffelees turned and walked towards Tugger, who stretched out his hand and Mistoffelees briefly placed his fingertips to his palm, “Produced seven kittens right out of a hat!”

He then turned to catch the mug he produced from thin air and threw out the rainbow he’d contained inside it. He pulled it around all the other Jellicles before handing the mug to Jemima (who, even though she was smiling, had a look in her eye that suggested she was less than happy to be near him). He smirked and moved to perform his solo dance.

*********************************

********************************

Act VI - And we all say: Oh! Well I never!

Merlin leapt and bent low into a plié as he landed, his thighs quivering with the delicious ache until he pushed his body up and moved into a fouetté. He closed his eyes as he moved until he heard a shuffle from one side of him. Knowing he’d been alone in the hall a moment ago he opened his eyes and stilled all movement until he was facing his visitor.

Arthur was sat on the floor with his back leaning against the far wall and he was watching Merlin silently. His legs were bent up so he could rest his arms against his knees and he had his hands hanging limp between them, his body unmoving in a manner that was a little unnerving to Merlin.

“Christ Arthur, you scared the living daylights out of me,” Merlin said and moved over towards a towel he’d discarded by his gym bag. He wiped at his face but when all he heard was the continuing silence he looked over at Arthur in confusion.

Who was still staring at him.

“Arthur?” Merlin said and started making his way towards the other man, Arthur’s eyes following him the entire time. When he stopped in front of him, Arthur merely dropped his head back against the wall and closed his eyes in a pained way.

“Hey,” Merlin said softly and crouched down, “You okay?”

He’d say later that his guard was down, that it was the only reason he was caught by surprise and he’d scoff at any theories that he may of wanted it. He really hadn’t expected it and some part of him still thought Arthur hadn’t either.

Arthur lunged forwards and Merlin only had time to yelp as a strong hand suddenly gripped the nape of his neck and pulled him forwards until his lips were mashed against Arthur’s. It was more painful than anything, their teeth bashing together and he could taste the faintest linger of cider on Arthur’s lips but the other man simply rectified his problem by tilting his head slightly. The teeth no longer clashed, but Merlin still remained wide-eyed as Arthur, eyes closed tightly, massaged his lips with his own. Merlin’s mind was blank, shocked into submission and it seemed to lull Arthur into a false sense of security as he brought his other hand up ready to cup Merlin’s face. It was then that Merlin’s mind came back online.

Pushing away forcefully he jumped up and away.

“Arthur, what the hell!”

Arthur seemed stunned by Merlin’s sudden rejection and stared at him dumbly. Merlin wiped at his mouth with his knuckles as he glared down at him, his blood boiling with righteous indignation.

“What the hell was that! Have you been drinking?”

Seeming to kick into gear, Arthur’s brow furrowed in anger and he stood up.

“What the hell do you think it was? I kissed you!”

“Yeah, I got that! Why the fuck did you kiss me?”

Arthur gaped for a moment, clearly utterly confused by Merlin’s reaction before shaking it off to replace it again with anger.

“Why does it matter, you’re gay!”

Merlin practically snarled at him and pushed him with all his strength, making Arthur crash against the wall hard, stunning him once again into disbelieving silence.

“Gay does NOT mean I am an experiment for you sexually repressed straight boys! How dare you!”

“How dare I? How dare you!” Arthur said pushing back upright from the wall, “What, you think you can just waltz in here being...being...”

“Being what?” Merlin hissed and Arthur growled at him.

“I slept with Sophia. I slept with her and...” Arthur clenched his hands tightly and Merlin frowned in confusion at the seemingly sudden change in conversation, “She kicked me out, she said I said...said it was disgusting that I...”

“Arthur, what the fuck? What does shagging Sophia have to do with you kissing...”

Merlin stopped.

Arthur went wide-eyed and clenched his hands even tighter.

“Oh,” Merlin whispered.

Arthur pushed past him and ran.

***************************
You.Have.One.Message. Message Received Today at 10am

‘Arthur, its Merlin. I got your number from Gwen. Call me please.’

***************************
“And he just...”

Merlin nodded, his head buried in his folded arms on his kitchen table.

“Just came up and just...”

He nodded again and heard Gwen give a little ‘Oh’.

“What am I going to do?” he asked, his voice muffled and he felt Gwen pat his shoulder comfortingly.

“Be a man, suck it up.”

He lifted his head and blinked at his friend as she grinned at him.

“See, this is why I call you a harlot.” She tutted and swatted at him so he buried his head back into his arms.

“What about you?” she asked a moment later and Merlin twitched.

“What about me what?”

“Well, how do you feel about him molesting you?”

Merlin fell silent. That was it really wasn’t it? How did he feel about it? It wasn’t so much the idea of Arthur kissing him that bothered him really, more that he was an experimental phase, but the way Arthur had painfully told him about saying Merlin’s names while shagging Sophia (at least that was the conclusion Merlin had drawn and Arthur hadn’t seen fit to correct him of it) made it much more complex than that.

Sexual crisis? Probably. But then there he was again, Merlin the Phase. Even if Arthur didn’t just want to kiss-and-see, as it were, that still left Merlin having to deal with his own problems. Arthur and he had not long ago put aside their sniping and were actually getting along, to the point that even Uther said they had great stage chemistry. Did he jeopardise his first role, his first major role for..what? A fuck?

“I’ll get back to you on that,” he said quietly.

******************************

Mistoffelees made to dodge the ball Tugger kicked at him but it still connected hard with his shoulder. He hissed angrily and swiped at the air before sliding to the floor and over towards Munkustrap.

He pushed away, arching his back slightly whenever Tugger neared him but the tom seemed to ignore him, and when all the kittens mewled around him Mistoffelees looked the other way. He caught sight of Demeter who perked up at his look, slid over and started to groom him comfortingly with gentle hands. Munkustrap joined in and soon enough he felt his mood lift slightly (even though his shoulder still throbbed).

When he saw Tugger tickle Jemima’s chin he bristled and moved over to the tom’s other side.

“The Rum Tum Tugger is a terrible bore.”

He threw a look of loathing at the Tugger but paused for the briefest of seconds when he saw it was Arthur looking back at him, and it threw Merlin when he saw the flash of hurt in those startling blue eyes that he almost forgot to get back into character. Refusing to mess this up he pulled himself together and Mistoffelees was back.

***************************************

***************************************
Act VII - You now have learned enough to see

Merlin, wig off but make-up still on, peeled the lycra suit down to his waist and looked into the mirror. He was surprised to see he actually had a bruise forming from where Arthur kicked the ball at him, not realising it had been that hard and he prodded it with morbid curiosity. He hissed quietly when it throbbed and sighed as he reached for the make up remover wipes.

As he swiped at his face to remove the white make-up he recalled the look Arthur had given him in the show. If it’d been embarrassment or anger it wouldn’t have bothered him so much but the fact that Arthur had looked hurt meant something else entirely. It meant that Arthur’s surprise kiss was more than an experimental whim at the very least.

Groaning, he spread the wipe out fully and did one long swipe down his face slowly.

“Merlin?”

Merlin stilled. He kept his face buried in his hands and listened as Arthur’s hesitant footsteps moved a little closer.

“Merlin...I...I came to apologise about the, um...”

Slowly lowering the wipe and his hands Merlin glanced at the mirror to Arthur’s reflection. Arthur was chewing his lip nervously and was studying the floor intently before glancing up and catching Merlin’s eyes in the mirror. He flushed when he saw Merlin already looking and his eyes darted away.

“About...the football,” he finished lamely and gently pumped his fist against the doorjamb.

“...Oh..,okay, um...its fine, didn’t hurt,” Merlin said in the same tone and Arthur very briefly smiled but it disappeared again soon after.

“Liar, I saw it connect.”

Merlin snorted softly in amusement as he toyed with the wipe in his hand. He stretched it slightly then dropped it into the bin and grabbed another one to return to his task.

“It’s okay, really,” he said more honestly, “I’ll just get my revenge via peanut bombardment.”

Arthur chuckled low in his throat and this time when their eyes met in the mirror they held the look. Merlin gave him a small reassuring smile, which Arthur returned before gesturing to his face.

“You going to take that off or are you planning to go out looking like that,” Merlin said and then blushed when he realised what that sounded like. Arthur clearly thought the same as his cheeks coloured also.

“The make up I mean,” Merlin clarified, watching in fascination as Arthur’s shoulders slumped slightly.

“Oh, yeah...guess so...” Arthur turned, ready to leave, and gave Merlin a nod in farewell but for whatever reason Merlin needed to know right then what had happened the other night.

“Arthur, why did you kiss me?”

Arthur froze, his shoulders bunching up and he scowled at the floor. Merlin finally saw the embarrassment he’d expected earlier seep through Arthur’s body but he refused to let it go this time.

“Can’t we just forget about it?” Arthur said tensely and Merlin sighed as he turned around.

“Can’t you even just explain why?”

“...”

Merlin waited.

When it became clear that Arthur wasn’t going to say anything, he sighed explosively and turned back to face the mirror and scrubbed at his face harder.

“Fine, whatever. Should’ve known looking for anything deeper than the consumption of cider was foolish. Well you’ve apologised for attacking me mid-play, best be on your way.”

He gasped when suddenly strong hands turned him round roughly in a firm grip and he glared at Arthur who returned the look, his face livid and centimetres from Merlin’s own.

“Fuck you!” he spat and Merlin growled.

“Fuck you!”

“You don’t even realise what you do, do you! You come in here, all boy wonder and so sure of yourself and you just don’t give a shit about what that does! Do you? Do you!”

“Arthur, what the FUCK are you talking about?”

“I don’t want to be gay! “

They both fell silent and stared at each other in shock. Arthur opened his mouth but when nothing came out he shut it again leaving it to Merlin to say something.

“One kiss doesn’t make you gay Arthur,” he said softly and Arthur closed his eyes as though in agony shaking his head and Merlin understood finally, “...it’s not just one kiss, is it?”

Arthur shook his head again.

“How long?” Merlin said keeping the gentle tone to his voice and tried to ignore the strong grip still on his biceps that were beginning to ache. Arthur barked out a bitter laugh.

“How long have I been...or how long have I liked you?”

“Either, both.”

Arthur, his eyes still closed, leaned into Merlin until his forehead was resting against Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin carefully raised his hands and placed them gently on Arthur’s shoulders where he rubbed them in small soothing circles, ignoring, for Arthur’s sake, the way that they trembled under his fingers.

“Always, since I was little. I just...I remember thinking how silly girls were but how much fun boys were. When I was 16 I realised how much more fun they could be but I..I never...”

Merlin hushed him and pulled him in properly so he had his arms around Arthur’s shaking form. Whether it was because of the confession or whether he’d just given up fighting, Arthur moved his hands to wrap his arms around Merlin’s waist instead and held on tightly.

“Too risky right?” Merlin said and Arthur laughed a little hysterically.

“Yeah, too risky.”

“I’m sorry,” Merlin whispered and even before he’d finished Arthur was shaking his head.

“No, no don’t apologise. This is my mess, I’m sorry for dragging you into it and accusing you of, well, of...”

“Being gay?”

They both chuckled at that and Arthur pulled away enough to see Merlin’s face (but not out of Merlin’s arms). They smiled at each other gently and without really thinking about it Merlin reached up to brush the blonde fringe out of Arthur’s eyes, tucking it behind his ear where it promptly fell forwards again.

Arthur closed his eyes when Merlin reached for the hair again but there was finally a more content look to his face, or maybe it was begrudging acceptance. Either way his body was no longer thrumming with self-loathing, leaving his body trembling slightly in Merlin’s arms.

“It’ll be okay,” Merlin whispered and Arthur (glassy eyes but not actually crying) rolled his eyes but smiled none the less.

“I’ve just realised I’m not going to get away playing it straight anymore and the guy I like has rejected me but hey, it’ll be okay. Thanks Yoda.”

“Rejected?” Merlin said frowning and Arthur quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, remember, you said ‘How dare you’ and all that so I guess...”

“Arthur! That wasn’t me rejecting you like this! I thought you were another drunk straight guy just ‘wanting to see’!”

Arthur blinked at him and Merlin smiled as a dawning awareness crept into his bright blue eyes. A small smile started to cross Arthur’s face and Merlin grinned at him.

“So...no rejection then?” he asked slowly and Merlin straightened his face out into something serious as much as possible.

“Well, you haven’t actually asked me anything yet so...”

Merlin almost ended the charade when the wariness flickered across Arthur’s face but he knew the other man needed to do this, so he waited it out as Arthur nodded decisively to himself and drew a deep breath.

“Merlin, do you want to, um, would...you like to get a drink sometime?”

Beaming, Merlin placed a hand on Arthur’s face and pulled him gently towards him where he placed a chaste kiss to Arthur’s lips. He closed his eyes at the same time as Arthur and smiled a little when Arthur pressed a little closer, their lips massaging one another slowly before he pulled back so their foreheads touched.

“I’d love to...prat.”

*********************************

After Old Deuteronomy placed Mistoffelees back down, allowing all the other cats to welcome back their leader, Tugger moved forward to grip his hands in thanks. Unused to such obvious contact in front of everyone Mistoffelees paused and tilted his head at Tugger.

Tugger grinned and to encourage him into his familiar leaps he turned Mistoffelees around, gripped his hips and lifted him. Mistoffelees contorted elegantly so his back arched over Tuggers shoulder, his hands stretching down across Tugger’s back and his knee bending until his toes pointed to the ground, his entire body melting into the move.

Tugger twirled him and finally placed him back onto the floor where Mistoffelees purred and ran to take Cassandra’s hand, leading her back to the rest of the Jellicles. When he moved again, preparing for his final display of magic, he ran past Tugger who briefly touched his hip before moving to address his audience.

“I give you, the Magical!”

Mistoffelees turned and thrust a hand into the air.

“The Marvellous!”

He threw up the other.

“Mr Mistoffelees!”

He braced himself, leapt into the air and vanished in a haze of smoke and glitter.

******************************************

Epilogue - three months later

Merlin gasped brokenly as he gripped the bed-sheets tighter and threw his head back with a loud moan. He clenched his thighs against the sharp jut of Arthur’s hips and arched his back as high as he could.

“Harder!” he hissed and Arthur, panting as he rocked into Merlin’s body beneath him, gave a great huff of laughter. Bracing himself on one arm he used the other to hitch Merlin’s hips higher and pushed himself in as deep as he could go before pulling nearly all the way out so he could repeat the action.

“Yes! Yes, like that!”

“Christ Merlin,” Arthur managed to choke out, “So tight.”

Merlin groaned pleasurably and without warning Arthur he tightened his legs, gripped Arthur’s shoulders and rolled them so Arthur was on his back. Smirking down at the stunned face he then braced himself and started to ride Arthur hard. The man below him gave a yell of delighted surprise and thrust up when Merlin thrust down.

Their movements become jerky and less rhythmic as they got closer to the edge but it was Arthur who came first, his head pushing back into the pillow, his mouth open in a silent roar and his eyes clenched tightly closed as the pleasure coursed through him into Merlin. The sight of Arthur losing control was enough to push Merlin over the edge and with a great yell (and a vaguely suspicious bang in the background) he arched his back and came before flopping forwards onto Arthur’s chest.

“It’s official...you’re going to kill me prematurely...” Arthur said hoarsely after catching his breath and Merlin grunted as he rolled to one side.

“If you can say prema..prem...that word then I think you’ll be okay.”

Arthur chuckled deeply and Merlin’s body thrilled at the sound regardless of its spectacular release not moments ago. Rolling, he placed a hand on Arthur’s cheek and encouraged him forwards for a lazy kiss, one Arthur gladly returned.

“You blew up the clock again,” he muttered against Merlin’s lips and Merlin glanced over his shoulder to find he had indeed blown up his newest alarm clock. Turning back he stole another kiss and rolled them so he was spread across Arthur’s body.

“Didn’t like it anyway, wanted the Dalek one.”

“Still can’t believe you got away with all that magic on stage and no one noticed,” Arthur said placing little nibbling kisses against Merlin’s lips, pulling away, then moving back in to do it again.

“No one questions the magic of theatre. Or the magic of the Marvellous Magical Mr Mistoffelees.”

“Mmm.”

“Besides,” Merlin said as he lightly lapped his tongue across Arthur’s lips, “I’ve always got Tugger there to distract anyone suspicious with his positively...illegal...hips,” he accompanied each word with a rotation of his own and Arthur simultaneously groaned and laughed.

“Fuck, you in heat or something Emrys?”

Merlin grinned wickedly and leaned down for a kiss. He still couldn’t believe that they were here like this, and as he kissed his lover he took a moment to reflect on what had happened. It didn’t seem right that all in the same year he’d graduated from a prestigious academy, debuted into the West End via an extremely well known musical, his favourite since his childhood, met, argued and then fallen for a fellow actor who bravely came out not long after they got together.

Apparently their onstage chemistry as Mr Mistoffelees and The Rum Tum Tugger, along with them being an out couple in the business, meant that tickets had nearly doubled in sales.

Who knew gay sex could sell?

Pulling away so he could lean on his forearms with his hands in Arthur’s hair, Merlin smiled down at the relaxed man beneath him. Arthur smiled lazily up at him and ran a fingertip down Merlin’s nose making him grin, thankful for everything that had happened.

Because there never was a man so brilliant as the marvellous Arthur Pendragon.

Finite

Spinning Farther

2008-06-11T18:19:07Z

Fandom: Harry Potter
Title: Spinning Farther
Rating: PG-13
Author: callista_mythol
Pairing (if any): Harry/Cedric
Prompt: (Any fandom) Coming out as public figures in a same-sex relationship.
Your summary: AU After Harry Potter reveals all to the Quibbler Cedric Diggory begins to take a closer look at himself.
AN: I was recommended to post here by minisoo so here I am :D

Spinning Farther

June 15th 2004

“Oh!”

Cedric’s spoonful of cereal paused inches from his mouth as he glanced up and across the table at Cho whose mouth hung open slightly in surprise. Her eyes were quickly scanning the front cover of the Quibbler and Cedric, finishing his mouthful, pushed his unfinished breakfast to one side to lean across the table.

“What are you ‘Oh-ing’ about?” he said and at first Cho remained speechless but, with a visible effort, she shook herself free of her shock and looked up at her ex-boyfriend-turned-flatmate. Still wide-eyed she turned the front cover to him.

Boy Who Liked Boys?
In an exclusive interview with The Quibbler Harry Potter reveals all!

Cedric felt his own jaw drop.

_______________________

Interview by Daphne Greengrass

“It’s one of those things that a part of you knows without letting the rest of you in on it,” says Harry Potter (age 23). His face is a faint shade of pink as though he feels embarrassed to be here but there’s something in his eyes that says he’s determined to see this through and to anyone that knows this young man that probably comes as less of a surprise than you’d think.

“I’ve always known in a way I guess, it’s just...well its complicated. I mean, I’m bisexual and I know there are going to be people on both sides saying that I’m ‘fence-sitting’ or ‘being a coward’ by not coming out as gay altogether but the fact of the matter is I’m not. I like women and I like men, it’s as simple as that. Admittedly if I could avoid a label altogether then that would be brilliant!”

He laughs and it’s not hard to see how both men and women could be drawn to such an intriguing young man. Putting aside the fact that its almost six years since Harry successfully beat You-Know-Who and that considering he never returned to finish his seventh year of Hogwarts Harry still managed to make it into the Auror ranks with sheer determination driving him, the young man sitting before me possesses an air of someone with power both magically and in personality. Attractive in an androgynous manner, all slim muscles and sharp distinctive facial features (the infamous scar boldly on show and intelligent green eyes watching me carefully) any man or women lucky enough to snatch up this one of a kind boy-celebrity will be the envy of the Wizarding World’s younger generation.

Not all of course are happy with this rather public move.

“No sense of discretion with kids today,” cries Gladys Gludgeon (age 45), a ministry worker of 15 years, “I don’t care what the boy gets up to but does he really have to announce it so publicly?”

“It’s not natural, two men,” says Duncan Inglebee (age 26), “Considering how hard it is already to keep magic running in family lines without marrying into the muggles it certainly doesn’t help when our most powerful wizards turn out to be flaming poofs!”

This is most likely a reference to Rita Skeeter’s Unofficial Biography of Albus Dumbledore back in 1996 that insinuated a relationship between Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald. It has since been confirmed that Dumbledore was indeed homosexual and Harry, taking on a much sterner appearance as our conversation turns to these comments, moves closer to steeple his fingers in a manner not all that different to his idol.

“Quite frankly I don’t care whether others think me obnoxious or ‘indiscrete’, the fact of the matter is that there are so few witches and wizards who even acknowledge their sexuality let alone admit to it that, after considerable consideration, I decided to come out. An article about me recently called me ‘a role-model for equality’. Admittedly it was referencing my work with the Werewolf community but I couldn’t help but feel like a fraud to be given such a title when in actuality I was keeping a part of me that others might connect with secret. Albus Dumbledore took his sexuality literally to the grave because he feared that others would consider it the absolute end to him being allowed to teach their kids and it saddens me that he was forced to do that. He was my hero, even when he drove me completely up the wall with his cryptic ways and I hope that he’s proud of me still.”

Harry falls silent and for a moment he looks out the window that is across from our cafe table. The hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley seems to have captured his attention and just as I begin to wonder whether he’s called our meeting to an end he faces me once more, his green eyes holding a fierceness recognisable to any one of us who’d been present in the hall at The Battle of Hogwarts. He’s silent a moment more until finally he speaks softly but firmly.

“No one should ever apologise for who they love and if me doing this stands for anything its that. If only one person takes something away from this then that’ll be enough for me, because believe me when I say there is nothing more freeing than knowing who are, acknowledging who you are and even possibly liking who you are.”

______________________________________

Cedric lowered the paper slowly, his eyes still tracing the words, taking all of it in. Cho, who seemingly had decided this called for a cup of tea, was at the countertop shaking her head minutely.

“Did Harry ever tell you he was gay? I mean, that came a little out of the left field didn’t it? He asked me to the Yule Ball in my fifth year after all, do you remember?”

Cedric barely took in what she said as he read the article again with a faint crease between his eyebrows. He sometimes found himself mouthing Harry’s quotes and swallowed thickly at the last paragraph.

“Cedric?”

He jerked his head up and found Cho staring at him worriedly. He realised then that she’d said his name a couple of times before he’d heard her.

“Pardon?”

“I asked if you’re okay? You look a little pale.”

“Oh,” he paused and stared at her for a moment before darting his eyes back to the story, “No, I mean yeah I’m okay, just...surprised is all.”

“About Harry being gay? You and me both but...Cedric, you’re okay with it right? I mean, okay, everyones entitled to their own opinion but,well, you guys are mates right? It’s not going to be a problem for you is it, because you really have nothing to worry about and I mean it’s not like he’s going to lunge wildly at...”

“What? No! No, I’m not...I don’t care if Harry’s bisexual! I just,, we talk all the time and, well, I guess...like you said we’re mates, we’ve always got along great, ever since the Tournament, especially since the Tournament and...” Cedric trailed off and Cho’s look of worry soon turned to sympathy.

“I’m sure he would’ve told you eventually it’s just the article beat him to it,” she said softly and Cedric looked across at her with a small grateful smile.

“Besides,” she said lifting her cup to her lips to take a sip, “I reckon he’s going to be feeling the heat today what with this being morning front page news. He could probably use a friend.”

________________________________

Cedric stepped out of the Floo into the main hall of The Ministry of Magic and cringed at the usual level of noise that assaulted his already throbbing head. Despite working for the Department of International Magical Co-operation for almost eight years now he still never really got used to the claustrophobic nature of the Ministries interior.

Dusting himself off lightly Cedric sighed as he slipped the shoulder strap of his bag higher and headed towards the lifts when movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. Glancing over he came to a shuddering stop.

Harry stood talking to two people (Aurors, Cedric noted from their uniforms even though one of them had almost neon green hair) and he was smiling faintly.

There was no denying that Harry had certainly grown up well, the morning article being correct in that Harry was neither masculine nor effeminate but instead a rather interesting mix of the two in his slender but fully capable build. It seemed ever since he’d hit puberty the boy (‘Man,’ some faint part of Cedric corrected) had a permanent three’ o clock shadow on his face, faint and to some possibly scruffy but it suited him rather well and it seemed that whilst his hair remained as untamable as ever it now looked artfully done instead of a mess. Harry did however continue to wear his unstylishly circular glasses whether in an act of defiance or genuinely not being bothered by fashion but he seemed to carry them off just as well as he had in school.

Harry Potter, it was safe to say, was certainly attractive.

Blinking at his own thought process Cedric shook his head slightly and hesitated momentarily before seemingly throwing caution to the wind and made his way over to the talking trio.

“...and I mean seriously, you should’ve seen Robard’s face when Danny boy here reaches over his shoulder to grab the paper. I thought the guy was going to shi...”

“Cedric!” Harry said suddenly and the green-haired woman who’d been talking stopped, glanced over her shoulder and then looked back at Harry. She must’ve mouthed or made a face because Harry suddenly glared at her (even though there was a glint of humour in his eyes as he did so). Looking back at him Harry smiled but there was a certain hesitance to it.

“Morning Cedric,” he said and taking a guess at the cause of the hesitance Cedric smiled encouragingly.

“Alright?” he said in return and a tension he hadn’t noticed before seemed to leave Harry’s shoulders, “Read an interesting story this morning.”

“Oh yeah?” the tension returned.

“Yeah, some kid I once knew was giving the proverbial finger to grumpy old Wizards and their out-dated views. Bloody fantastic read I thought.”

Cedric smiled more brightly as Harry grinned at him, the other two Aurors laughing and nodding in agreement.

“Good to hear it,” Harry chuckled and clapping the other male Auror on the arm as he passed Harry led Cedric away towards the lifts. As soon as they were far enough away from the duo though Cedric turned more thoughtful.

“I was a little sad though to find he seemed to think he couldn’t tell a friend about his preferences,” he said softly and looked out of the corner of his eye to see Harry jerk his head round to him.

“What?”

Turning bodily to him Cedric halted their movements to stand face to face with him.

“Why didn’t you tell me in person?” he said quietly, “I wouldn’t have, don’t have a problem with it and, well, we’re mates right?”

Harry’s mouth was open slightly and for a moment he simply stared at Cedric before clearing his throat and looked down at Cedric’s shoes.

“I’m sorry Ced, really. It’s just initially...okay so I old Ron and Hermione last month right?” Harry seemingly nodded to himself and looked back at Cedric, “And whilst Hermione was over the bloody moon Ron was...quiet. I mean, its not like I was expecting party poppers and banners but he was just so...silent on the matter. Ron shouting I can handle, its what he always does but quiet? It worries me when he’s quiet because it usually means its hit him harder than say, an insult or a disagreement. He’s okay now, kind of, but sometimes...”

Harry trailed off when Cedric placed his hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

“I get it” he said gently and squeezed the shoulder under his fingers, “I understand.”

Cedric’s stomach shouldn’t have twisted pleasantly when Harry beamed at him, but clearly no one had informed him of that as butterflies took flight behind his abdomen.

_________________________________

June 22nd 2004

“He so did!”

Cedric was laughing so hard that he had to wipe away tears from his face, although thankfully he didn’t seem to be the only one. Ernie Macmillan was bent double clutching his stomach laughing so hard he had begun to hiccup, Richard Sampson (Cedric’s best friend since Hogwarts) had seemed to have lost control of his spine as he flopped about laughing silently and Cho was wiping her eyes with both hands. Justin Finch-Fletchley grinned at his audience seated in his living room before continuing.

“Anyway, he so did this double-take as if he couldn’t believe that I’d just said it right but what really made the whole thing so perfect was Harry Potter,” (Cedric sat up straighter), “Merlin bless him, must’ve heard the entire thing because without even breaking his stride as he walks past he says, he says ‘That’s actually not as physically impossible as Justin makes it seem as long as you have some ingenuity and a vast amount of lubricant!’”

Richard had fallen from the sofa by this point howling and even Cho gave up holding onto her dignity by squealing very loudly with laughter (although she did clap her hands to her mouth afterwards still giggling). Cedric however find his mind betraying him with a flash of imagery. It was literally so quick that he wasn’t even sure he’d seen anything but whatever it had been seemed to make him blush to his very roots. Thankfully everyone else thought his red face was a byproduct of his mirth.

“Oh Lord, oh my stomach,” Cho moaned and clearing her throat she glanced over at Cedric who grinned back at her, albeit shakily. “I swear ever since Harry did that interview he’s been...been more...”

“Cheeky,” Justin injected as he reached towards the coffee table in front of him, “No, that’s not true. He’s always been a little bit cheeky, his comments to Professor Snape come to mind in particular. I guess he feels more liberated to say what he wants now.”

“Nah,” Cedric found himself saying and blinked when everyone looked over at him curiously, “Well, think about it. When’s Harry ever held back on his opinions?”

Everyone grinned and nodded slightly.

“I think its because he feels free to flirt,” Cho said and Ernie snorted.

“You said that for the alliteration didn’t you?”

“I don’t think Harry’s really cared about flirting to be honest,” Cedric said before taking a sip of his own drink, “Not after you traumatised the poor boy back at the Yule Ball.”

“I didn’t traumatise him!” Cho protested as Richard barked out a laugh.

“You did, poor lad gets up the nerve to ask you out and what do you do?”

“Stay loyal to the boy who got there first?”

“Traumatised him.”

“Shut up! I didn’t.”

“Cho made Harry gay,” Justin teased and she threw her cushion at him.

“Bisexual,” Cedric corrected automatically but no one was really listening.

“Then he spends the entire evening glaring at poor Ced here,” Richard added as he climbed back up onto the sofa only to have Cedric push him off again.

“Maybe...” Justin turned sly before leaning towards, “Or maybe he was glaring at Cho.”

Everyone fell silent before there was a sudden burst of noise (and another projectile cushion from Cho).

“No way! He wouldn’t!”

“Oh come on, I highly doubt that ol’ Harry Potter harbored a crush on Ced here...”

“Justin! Just because Harry likes guys as well as girls doesn’t mean that...

But Cedric had stopped listening. It was absurd, the very idea that Harry would...but what if he did? What if, back then, Harry had liked Cedric ‘like that’? What if it’d been he, Cedric, who made Harry realise that he liked boys as well as girls.

And what if he was being a pretentious prick for even assuming such a thing?

Shaking himself out of his damning thoughts Cedric attempted to bring himself back into the conversation with a shaky breath. Clearly he’d missed a fair bit as Cho was pointing rather harshly at a grinning Justin.

“...and furthermore, he was barely into puberty! I highly doubt he knew all the way back then that he liked to date boys!”

“Ah but Harry’s usually quite quick on the uptake isn’t he?”

“Not when it comes to dating!” Cho said loudly then stopped and cringed good-naturedly as everyone laughed, “So not how I meant it.”

“I’m sure Harry would agree, don’t worry Cho,” Cedric said after a minute., “Besides I think Justin’s just pining for some gossip.”

“Oh I have gossip,” Justin said slyly before leaning back into his chair contently clearly enjoying the suspense he was building.

“What? Justin, don’t do this to a woman, my nerves can’t take it.”

Taking a slow sip of his beer Justin took his time leaning forwards to place it back on the table. Then, when he was sure he had everyone’s rapt attention, he looked over at Cedric with a twinkle of mischief in his eye.

“Funny isn’t it, how even though he could be in a room crowded with people he can always pinpoint you in seconds?”

Cedric’s mouth was feeling extremely dry all of a sudden and after taking a moment to rub his tongue across the roof of his mouth to unfuzz it he swallowed thickly.

“What?” he croaked out ignoring all the eyes watching him.

“What, you’ve never noticed? Harry...well he can barely keep his eyes off you can he?”

Cedric felt himself blush horribly and tried, much more unsuccessfully than usual, to ignore the samba party in his stomach.

________________________________

June 25th 2004

Cedric toyed with his lower lip unconsciously as he sat in the Ministry cafeteria straining his head this way and that to properly see the people in the lunch queue. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for (When did he ever, he thought pessimistically) and was about to turn back to his now throughly stirred cup of tea when he caught sight of a familiar mess of hair.

“Harry!” he called and raised his hand to show where he was as Harry glanced around before he halted. Blinking, he pondered his own motives as Harry grinned gratefully at him and after placing his own lunch tray down on the table sat across from him.

“Hello Cedric, long time no see,” he said cheerfully as wrestled with the wrapping on his sandwiches. Cedric smiled back but had a horrible feeling it was rather more goofily than he intended it to be.

“Ambassadorial talks with the Asian Wizarding leaders, you know how it is,” he said in return and Harry laughed as he nodded sympathetically.

“Lovely blokes but very chatty?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Yeah, met some of them a couple of years ago after the incident with The Chiyoe, you remember?”

“The Japanese equivalent of The Death Eaters? How could I forget.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully and gave a little ‘Ha’ as he finally managed to peel off the wrapping. He carefully bit into the sandwich and when he pulled it away he rested his hand, knuckles to lips, as he chewed before wiping away any crumbs that may have clung on. Reaching for his drink he swallowed his mouthful before taking a sip.

Cedric was completely enthralled by it all.

He shouldn’t be, not really but he couldn’t pull his eyes away from the man across from him. He didn’t know whether it was because of the now infamous article or whether it was because of the chat he’d had with his mates only a few days ago but he found himself watching Harry more often than not. It turned out that Justin could possibly have been talking out of his arse because over the last three days Harry hadn’t looked over at him too much and they certainly hadn’t had a chance to speak all that much with their busy schedules. If anything Cedric had been watching Harry far more than the boy had been watching him which was a little unsettling to think about in the long term so he tried not to.

Harry lowered his glass slowly and quirked his eyebrow curiously. Swallowing his last mouthful he lowered the glass back to the table and leaned forwards to get a better look at Cedric’s flushed face and overly bright eyes.

“You alright Ced? Only you look a little warm,” and looking concerned he reached across the table and placed his hand to Cedric’s forehead, the back of his hand pressing against heated skin.

‘He just had those knuckles to his lips,’ some treacherous part of his mind told him and he yelped a little but didn’t pull back. Harry however jumped slightly and pulled his hand back.

“Sorry, did that hurt?” he asked and Cedric, resisting the urge to snatch the hand back and ignoring the tingle in his lower body, nodded frantically as he valiantly tried to ignore the confusion coursing through him.

“Fine, fine,” he said huskily and unconsciously leaned in towards Harry too, “Just a little stuffy in this building sometimes.”

Harry stared at him critically a moment longer before seemingly letting the matter go for now with a crooked smile. It plainly told him that Harry didn’t quite believe him but for now he’d let it slide. Instead he made to open his mouth but was interrupted before he could get a word out.

“Potter, you scoundrel. Corrupting sweet Hufflepuffs with your wicked wicked kinky ways.”

Harry lowered his head with a laugh and both men turned their heads to watch as a witch (the one Harry had been talking to the week before Cedric noted) headed towards them with a very cheeky grin on her face. She wasn’t in uniform this time though.

“Cedric I don’t believe you’ve been informally introduced to Tonks, who may I add is very close to being referred to as Nymphadora for a very long time.”

Tonks, whose hair was now pink, grimaced and flicked her wand to draw up a chair behind her and spinning it she straddled it before crossing her arms over the back to rest her chin on them.

“Call me that and you’re going to be sporting Slytherin striped hair for a week,” she threatened good-naturedly and Harry chuckled as she held her hand out to Cedric, “Cedric Diggory of course, quite possibly one of our more fancied employees.”

Cedric chuckled lightly and scrubbed the back of his neck as he glanced over at Harry, who smiled gently at him. Cedric’s own smile grew bigger and he had the distinctive feeling that Miss Tonks was smirking at them, although he wasn’t sure as to why.

“I know you,” he said after a moment addressing the suddenly innocent looking woman, “You’re part of the Order of Phoenix. But I could’ve sworn you were married, isn’t Tonks your maiden name?”

“Yeah I am but only Remus is allowed to call me Dora, everyone else has to call me Tonks, otherwise they will be killed violently.”

Harry chuckled, “‘I kill you til you die from it’ is that right?”

Tonks grinned and winked at Harry. Cedric however frowned as he quickly went over things in his mind.

“Remus? As in Professor Lupin?”

“Yep! One in the same, guess you never really got to know The Order as well as The DA huh?”

Cedric smiled as he recalled his final year, being part of Harry’s underground Defense group Dumbledore’s Army and how he with the rest of the group returned for the final battle. It was true that whilst he may never had been allowed into the Order he felt that he actually did more for Harry being in his group anyway. Many newspapers had taken to calling them ‘The Championing Second Line of Defense.’

“Huh,” he said after a moment, “I always thought he was...” he stopped and looked at Tonks slightly panicked but she smiled at him kindly if a little sadly. Looking across at Harry he noticed he had gone awfully quiet.

“He plays for Harry’s team, swings both ways,” Tonks said softly, “He was seeing...no, he loved a man during the Wars but...well it was War...”

“Oh...oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...”

“It’s fine Ced,” Harry said suddenly and Cedric noted that even if the impossibly green eyes were brighter than before his voice was steady, “You didn’t know.”

“Remus and Sirius. Believe me, I’m under no illusion that had Sirius lived that Remus would be with me today but...”

“Dora,” Harry said quietly and for all her joking that only Remus could call her that she seemed to look over at Harry desperately, “Don’t think that. Remus loves you just as much as he loved Sirius, you and Teddy.”

Having been given the abridged version of Sirius Black’s life from Harry before Cedric tried to envision his old Professor with the wrongfully imprisoned wizard he’d seen in the papers. Oddly, they fitted in his head.

“Teddy?” he said instead and seemingly it was the right thing to say as Tonks perked up slightly.

“Our son, Theodore Remus Lupin. And Harry’s Godson incidentally.”

“Smartest wizard of his age,” Harry said proudly and Cedric leaping at he chance to move to lighter things, grinned at the parental joy in both their voices.

“With Harry as his Godfather I imagine he’ll be giving McGonagoll grey hairs in no time...well more grey hairs anyway.”

Tonks laughed and Harry threw his screwed up sandwich wrapper at him getting him right between the eyes. Laughing Cedric threw it back and stuck out his tongue when Harry caught it like a true seeker.

“The Two Marauder Heirs,” Harry said smugly and puffed out his chest in pride only to give an ‘Oof’ when Cedric reached over to poke him in the stomach and quickly scanned his tray for more ammunition. Tonks watched all of this with great interest.

“What about you Mr Diggory? Married?” she asked and she grinned almost wickedly when both men paused in the sword-fight they had now taken up with their blunt cutlery knifes.

“Oh, erm, no. I haven’t really found anyone that I...just no,” he finished lamely and placed his knife back down. He glanced over at Harry who, rather curiously, was looking at him a little surprised.

“You?” Tonks said with far more glee than she should’ve had at such an admission, “Single? It’s a crime against nature! I know plenty of people who’d like to be wined and dined by yoOW!”

Cedric jumped slightly as she yelped and frowned as she leaned down to rub her shin. Looking over at Harry the other man gave nothing away as he calmly sipped his drink.

“I doubt that,” Cedric said with a faint smile, “I seem to have built a reputation with most girls for not being very good at the long term relationship deal.”

“Most girls,” Tonks grumbled slightly as she continued to rub her leg but when she lifted her eyes to him there was a mischievous glint still twinkling away in them, “Why is that then?”

“Pudding!” Harry suddenly said loudly and glaring at Tonks he pointed towards the counters, “Look Nymphadora, Chocolate cake, your favourite.”

Instead of the ‘death penalty’ she had threatened Harry with earlier she simply stood up laughing to herself and giving the black haired man a wink as she waved coyly over her shoulder.

“Nice meeting you Diggs, catch you later Harry, we still have that report to go over after lunch.”

Harry growled at her and she blew one final kiss at him before spiriting herself over to the counters (almost breaking her neck when she tripped slightly on a chair leg).

Cedric turned his gaze back onto Harry who still glared at the woman’s retreating back. Without really thinking about it Cedric reached over and brushed Harry’s hand with his to get his attention and then quickly pulled it back when Harry glanced down at it.

“She was nice,” he said smiling and Harry, now frowning but smiling as well, hummed in considerably doubt.

“Too like Sirius for her own good that one, not surprising she fell for a Marauder.”

Not really understanding all the Marauder references Cedric smiled more widely and Harry, catching sight of it, smiled back at him before winking as he sipped his drink once more.

The tummy butterflies were becoming such a regular occurrence now that he wasn’t surprised to find that the wink sent them all aflutter.

________________________________

July 6th 2004

Cedric sat at his mother’s table with his chin resting in his hand, his eyes drifting to the window and then back to his mother’s back as she continued talking. He came home to his parents house at least once a week and everytime he did he was reminded that no matter how much he loved them, sometimes they were a little overwhelming.

“Cedric? Have you been listening?”

Without even looking up Cedric said, “Mrs Weasley, potatoes, greengrocers down the road, uncouth youth, smack around earhole. Listening mum.”

He snorted a little chuckle when she tapped him lightly on the back of the head. Rubbing it he looked up at her as she smiled down at him.

“You’re not too old to put across my knee you know,” she warned him before she returned to the stove.

“I’d break your legs, great lump that I am now.”

“I’m your mother, I’d find ways.”

“Of that I have no doubt. Dark Lords don’t scare anybody as much as their own mothers do.”

“Cedric,” she warned and Cedric looked at her apologetically. Like many wizards and witches her age his mother was uncomfortable discussing the Wars or even making comments like he’d just made. Clearly being around Harry wasn’t good for him as he’d seemed to have adopted the man’s dry humour in regards to darker times. To be honest though Cedric thought it an effective method, humour. It was that or cry and he didn’t think someone like Harry could cry freely.

Realising that his thought process had taken a route it quite recently took far too often Cedric shook his head and sat up straighter.

He wasn’t sure what to make of it all anyway. It didn’t help that his body and mind seemed to be in dispute recently meaning he more often than not found himself waving like a complete loon whenever he spotted Harry and that wasn’t even including the fact that he was always grinning like a spaz when they did get a chance to interact (although he had noted that Harry seemed to be in no better condition so he didn’t feel too badly about that). And whilst ordinarily that wouldn’t bother him too much it was the fact that he seemed to be continually finding ways of touching Harry, whether it be by poking, patting him on the shoulder, nudging him jokingly (which sometimes lead to Harry retaliating forcing them into some form of elbow poking war), touching his hand to get his attention or, Merlin forbid, standing as humanly close to him as he could when they met in the hallways. He probably wouldn’t even think much on it, probably considered them just a friendly pair of blokes, but he had a horrible suspicion he’d seen his mates during Hogwarts act in a similar manner when they were near girls they...

“Ced? Two sugars as usual?”

Cedric jumped making his chair scrape on the floor nosily. Blinking up blearily at his mother he stared at her for a minute then nodded slightly.

As she turned back to the teas Cedric reached up to toy with his lip anxiously. Surely not? It didn’t make any sense really, did it?

‘I mean, I’ve dated girls,’ he thought frantically even when a niggling doubt at the back of his mind pointed out that he always felt something was off when he dated girls. Had he not said to Tonks only a couple weeks back that he had a reputation for not being a long-term guy (which he thought was unfair as he tried, he really did, they just never lasted).

“Mum?” he said quietly, “How did you know you liked Dad?”

Seemingly startled by the out of the blue question but willing to answer it his mother said, “Butterflies.”

“Butterflies?” he asked with some trepidation.

“Yep. He’d come over, smarmy little ponce that he was,” she grinned at Cedric, “And despite the fact that I was already being courted by a lovely Ravenclaw boy he just didn’t give me butterflies like your father did.”

She smiled as she sat down across from him and handed him his mug. Taking it but not drinking Cedric stared at her with wide eyes.

“Oh. Bollocks.”

“Cedric!”

“Sorry Mum.”

_______________________________

July 12th 2004

“Harry’s round!”

“What? No! I’m not buying everyone a drink!”

“You’re rich and pretty, get over it.”

Laughing Harry frisbeed one of the card beer mats at Dean Thomas who ducked it effectively meaning it was Parvarti Patil who got it in the face. She squawked indignantly as the two men laughed.

Whenever they could the surviving members of The DA would meet up at a bar of someone’s choice (this time Terry Boot’s who opted for a traditional Pub in Bath) and shared stories of their lives. It was partly because they all needed something away from the day jobs but also it acted as a reminder that they had won, that they were still standing. Even if not everyone was present, and there was almost always a silent toast to their fallen comrades. This particular time a good number of them had turned up; The Patil sisters along with Lavender (who’d grown up considerably since the war), Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas still best friends, Ernie and Justin ducking in through the door with winks at Cedric (who had found himself seated between Harry and Richard), Hannah Abbot who still looked sad sometimes over the loss of her mother and friend Susan Bones but doing much better with Neville at her side, Harry’s two loyal friends of course (although Cedric noticed that it was Hermione on Harry’s other side and not Ron). Ginny was sitting across from Cedric and beside her Luna was whispering into her ear about something that made her snigger, Cho seemingly catching the tail end of what was said as she snorted into her drink. Gryffindor’s (as far as Cedric was concerned) best three ex-chasers and Terry Boot with Michael Corner. Not all of them but more than enough to take up the few tables that they’d pushed together.

“There’s no way I’m buying drinks for,” Harry did a quick head-count,” Twenty two people. Get your own you lazy arse.”

“Makes it sound unreasonable doesn’t he?” Seamus said joining in as he watched Harry attempting to wiggle out of his space, Cedric quickly jumping up to give him enough room.

“I’m buying myself and Luna a drink as she’s...oh, Cedric you’re done? Want another?”

Cedric glanced down at his drink he could’ve sworn was three quarters full and found it was indeed empty. He frowned and looked at Richard who made a show of smacking his lips. Glaring at him he sighed and made to decline when he spotted Cho, Ernie and Justin nodding at him frantically.

‘What?’ he mouthed and they nodded harder.

“Ced? Drink?” Harry waved a hand in front of his face and made him jump.

“Hey, why does he get a drink!” Dean cried, Seamus laughing as he took a sip of his own pint.

“Because he’s prettier than you,” Harry said cheekily and stuck his tongue out as he finally managed to get free of the tables.

“Yes please,” Cedric blurted and flushed as he followed after Harry trying very hard to ignore the sniggering from his friends. It didn’t particularly help that he caught a glimpse of Ron frowning at the tabletop.

The two men made their way to the bar and after flagging down a bartender giving him their orders they turned at the same time to face each other, leaning their hips against the bar-side.

“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable back there,” Harry said after a moment and Cedric frowned slightly in confusion until he remembered the pretty comment. Then he coughed into his hand in surprise.

“No no that’s okay. Can’t deny the truth,” he joked weakly and Harry chuckled. As the black haired man looked over at a noise behind the till Cedric used the momentary distraction to glance back at the tables. He blinked when he found nearly all of the group looking their way with rapt attention. Flushing he turned bodily to the bar making Harry look back at him.

“You look all hot and bothered, Pub too stuffy?”

Cedric nodded vaguely and played with his lip without thinking about it. He paused however when Harry reached up to pull his fingers away from twisting it this way and that.

“That can’t be good for your lips,” he said chuckling and Cedric stared at him feeling an undeniable pull in his navel like a portkey except he was touching nothing unless you counted the hand still holding his fingers still.

‘Kiss him.’

Cedric swatted the air around his head as though trying to hit a fly and Harry leaned back slightly. They looked at one another but Harry had a mixed look of confusion and amusement on his face.

“Ced, how many have you had?” he asked slowly and Cedric glared at him slightly.

“Not nearly enough apparently.”

Quirking an eyebrow at the comment Harry shrugged patting his shoulder reassuringly. Cedric tried to ignore the swooping sensation it created.

‘Pin him to the bar and Kiss him.’

Cedric jerked his head back this time and blinked harshly. Harry was a little more concerned this time and gently rubbed his shoulder as he looked into his eyes properly.

“You sure you’re okay mate?”

Putting a hand to his face Cedric groaned. This could not be happening to him, not at the age of 26. Wasn’t this the kind of thing that you realised when you were experimenting in school? Not that he experimented in school of course, he had his studies to get through after all.

What an idiot.

“Yeah,” he croaked out, “Yeah I just need some fresh air.” And without waiting for a reply he headed outside.

_________________

Life was a bitch. He’d always known that, known it since the first kid at school had been murdered during the war, knew it when the world asked a teenage boy to lead it to victory. He did not, however, expect it to also have this bad a sense of humour.

Realising that a) the reason you never felt entirely comfortable in a heterosexual relationship is because you are not, in fact, a heterosexual and that b) you rather fancy the young man who just happens to be the most famous wizard in the world was not something you wanted to happen. It should be the story you hear about involving someone else and then appropriately feel sorry for them before wondering how the hell they got so far through life not knowing that they were a bloody homosexual. And he was certain that’s what he was, let Harry be the ‘in-charge-of-his-sexuality’ bisexual as he, Cedric, had the lightning like clarity that the reason he avoided sex whenever he could was due to the fact that sleeping with women just did nothing for him.

“Merlin’s balls,” he muttered to himself as he sat perched on a low wall outside the front of the pub.

“No thanks, that’s a little too old for my tastes.”

Jerking at the voice Cedric caught himself before he toppled over and found himself face to face with a concerned Harry. Swallowing thickly he tried to ignore his now racing heartbeat.

“You looked like you were going to be sick, I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Harry said as he sat beside him on the wall and Cedric avoided leaning towards him. Instead he gripped the wall tightly as he stared straight ahead.

“I’m fine, you can go back inside,” he said desperately. He felt Harry stiffen next to him and then sigh.

“Ced...have I upset you? Only you’ve been on edge with me for a couple of days now, like you don’t know what to do when you’re around me. Is it something I’ve said? Because I haven’t intended to upset you in any way and oh Merlin, it was the pretty comment wasn’t it? I knew it bothered you! Look, it was just a joke and you’re so good about these kind of things I didn’t think you’d mind if...”

Cedric grabbed Harry around the neck, tugged him forwards and kissed him so hard that they clashed teeth. Harry made a little noise of shock and placed a hand on Cedric’s chest as he pulled back to look at him properly. Both of them were breathing heavily and were wide-eyed as they stared at one another.

“Cedric?” Harry said in a hushed tone as though not to spook him and it seemed so absurd that Cedric promptly started laughing hysterically. He tried not to acknowledge how similar it sounded to sobbing.

“Oh Cedric,” Harry said softly and he gently tugged the other man forwards to wrap comforting arms around him. Cedric didn’t even think about it as he wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist and pressed his face to Harry’s neck shivering slightly but thankfully otherwise getting some semblance of control back.

“I don’t know what to do,” Cedric mumbled a minute later and closed his eyes as Harry reached up to stroke his hair lightly, “I never even considered it.”

“I think that’s the Wizarding world in a nutshell mate,” Harry said lightly and Cedric let out a weak chuckle. Then he paused and pulled back very slightly (but enough to stay in Harry’s arms) to get a proper look of his friend’s face.

“Where do I even start? I thought this kind of thing happened when you were a teenager.”

“If you’re lucky,” Harry said and he rather delicately tucked part of Cedric’s hair back behind his ear making the older man close his eyes for a second, savouring the touch, “But some people don’t realise it for years. Hell I’ve heard about people managing to go through entire marriages, have kids, have the kids grow up before they realise that the thing they’ve been lacking is an important part of themselves. You’re Twenty Six Cedric, you’re fine.”

Cedric huffed out a laugh, both relieved and shaky, before tucking himself back under Harry’s chin. Some part of him berated his clinginess, was even embarrassed by it, but he felt that considering his shock revelation (that if he was honest with himself had actually had more of a build up than he was ready to admit) he was allowed a moment of weakness. And if it encouraged Harry to keep stroking his hair then who was he to complain?

“Listen, let me go back inside for our cloaks and then we’ll find somewhere to talk,” Harry said after a long moment just sitting together and Cedric nodded against his neck. A frisson of excitement ran up his spine when Harry placed a kiss to the top of his head as he pulled away to head back inside the pub.

________________________________

July 31st 2004

“Are you Harry’s boyfriend?”

Cedric gave a yelp as a pair of small hands grabbed his knee from behind suddenly and looking down behind him he was confronted with a serious looking seven year old with bright blue hair and intelligent hazel eyes. Feeling a little out of depth Cedric said the only thing he could think of.

“Um...”

“Teddy? Are you tormenting Cedric?” called a familiar voice from behind and clearly Cedric was less interesting now as the supposedly named Teddy gasped happily and rushed towards the backdoor of the Weasley’s house.

“Harry! Harry Harry Harry Harry!” Teddy simultaneously jumped and ran towards the owner of the voice and Cedric couldn’t help smiling just a little as Harry caught the cheerful boy mid-jump. He swung him round before pulling him in to blow a raspberry on his cheeks making the boy shriek with laughter and try to return the gesture albeit more sloppily than Harry had done.

The Weasley garden was almost packed with people gathered to celebrate Harry’s 24th Birthday, banners stretching between the house and nearby trees with a magically extended table groaning under the weight of a large buffet made up of several of Molly Weasley’s delicious meals. The Weasleys, Hermione, The Lupins, most of The DA and surviving members of the Order were there including a few Aurors Harry worked with. Even Cedric’s mother had turned up.

His father, however, had not.

Purposely not lingering on that depressing thought Cedric turned his thoughts back to Harry who had come to stand beside him holding Teddy balanced on his hip. Smiling up at him Harry winked at him playfully. Cedric winked back.

“So?” Harry asked and Cedric raised an eyebrow at him.

“So what?”

“You my boyfriend?”

Cedric carefully took Teddy from Harry, whispered something in his ear and then let the giggling boy run off to find his parents. Harry remained patient as all this occurred looking merely curious as Cedric took his hand and led him round to a quieter side of the house. Beginning to smile as understanding set in Harry obediently leant against the shadowed side of the house as Cedric braced his hands either side of the man. Then he moved into Harry’s body so that they were now nose to nose and after a silent minute of searching the amused green eyes he closed his own, tilted his head and pressed his lips to Harry’s in a much calmer fashion than he had their first time.

It started off chaste in manner, their mouths pressed together softly whilst Harry’s hands came up to encase Cedric’s face but it soon became more as Harry opened his mouth invitingly, encouraging Cedric’s tongue into play with his own. They kept it slow and lazy, Cedric’s hands resting on Harry’s hips as his thumbs moved in arches on Cedric’s cheeks, capturing his lower lip playfully before diving back in to kiss until they finally tapered off into little pecks once more.

Pulling away Cedric rested his forehead against Harry’s and moved one hand up to trace his index finger against the smiling mouth he’d just tasted,then grinned as he finally answered.

“Yep.”

“Can’t say fairer than that,” Harry said in turn and leaned back in for another kiss.

(Finite)

Spook me Prompt fic

2006-10-28T17:00:35Z

Title: My Skin
Name: Callista_Mythol
Fandom: (please, no abbreviations: CSI New York
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not my characters, but are instead products of CBS and Anthony Zuiker
Summary: Spook me Prompt - Vampire. A mystery photograph is sent to Mac...

My Skin

I need the darkness, the sweetness,
the sadness, the weakness, oh I need this.

I need a lullaby, a kiss goodnight,
Angel sweet love of my life, oh I need this.

Well, is it dark enough,
Can you see me? Do you want me?
Can you reach me? Or I'm leaving...

Mac stared at the image again, unable to even comprehend what he was seeing. It didn’t make any sense, it couldn’t make any sense, he didn’t want it to. If it did then he’d have to question everything he’d been brought up to believe and he liked what he believed. It was honourable, and just and it made sense.

It could be an ancestor, or a very well done manipulation. What people could do using computer skills these days was phenomenal so he wouldn’t rule it out. But still…

It looked genuine, even to his trained eye.

It had come anonymously through the post with a typed letter suggesting he look closer at his working staff that not everyone was telling the whole truth about their pasts. He had no clue as to had sent it, why they had sent it, hell when they had sent it. He couldn’t recall seeing it being delivered, just that his desk was empty one minute then not the next. No one had seen anyone in his office and he was pretty sure they wouldn’t let him check the cameras without showing them why he wanted to. And for some reason he didn’t want to show anyone else the photo in his hand.

Glancing at the old, weathered photo once more Mac smoothed his thumb over the crinkled brown image and tried to flatten it moreso. No matter what he did it remained old and ancient, far too delicate a photo to have been done recently no matter how hard he clung to the computer manip theory.

No matter what he did Danny was still looking up at him from a photograph taken from the 1800’s.

……………………………………………………………………………

Danny groaned and buried his head further under his pillow as another round of loud banging sounded at his door. He held the pillow down tight over himself but could still hear the muted knocks so with a growl he threw the pillow over the side of the bed and swung his feet over.

“All right, all right! I’m coming, quit trying to come through the wood already, jeez!” he called as he made his way to his front door and opened it angrily. His hair stuck up in disarray, he hadn’t put his glasses on and he knew the t-shirt he’d thrown on with some slacks to sleep in was twisted in a funny way. Basically, he looked like someone who had just been dragged out of bed.

Mac was standing on the other side of the door and Danny, usually so sensitive to what the man thought, didn’t give a damn. He was tired, he’d just done an 19 hour shift and he just wanted to sleep, angry boss or not.

“What’s up Mac?” he said as he ran his hand through his hair but growled a moment later when Mac pushed into his apartment.

“Come on in, make yourself comfortable, it’s not like I was trying to sleep or nothing,” Danny mumbled sarcastically as he closed the door again. He folded his arms across his chest as he walked over to Mac who had decided to stand in the centre of his living room clutching something tightly in his hand.

“Danny, you’d tell me if you were in trouble right?” Mac said sharply and rubbing at his eyes with one hand Danny hummed his confusion.

“What? Course I would, I’ve learnt my lesson,” he replied and dropped his hand again. Mac however still seemed agitated and Danny moved his hands down onto his waist.

“I came to you when my DNA turned up at that gravesite didn’t I? Mac, I trust you to look out for me, you always have,” he said honestly and maybe there was something in what he said or his tone because Mac seemed to relax marginally. His grip on whatever he had brought with him though remained the same.

“Yes, yes you did,” Mac said quietly, almost only to himself but Danny heard him none the less. After a moment Mac turned the paper in his hand to look at it before slowly looking up at Danny again. He studied him silently, which Danny hated and fidgeted uncomfortably as he watched Mac look down then back up again. Something in the older man’s eyes changed and Danny would’ve considered the look now on Mac’s face to be embarrassed if it wasn’t Mac he was looking at.

“I’m sorry Danny. It seems I’m easily unsettled these days,” Mac said quietly, “I don’t know why…I just…I can’t help feeling that sometimes you still can’t come to me about stuff, important stuff.”

Danny, despite still feeling tired let go of his agitation. Mac seemed restless and clearly whatever was in his hand was doing the unsettling so he moved closer and slowly reached out for Mac’s wrist. He closed his fingers around it gently and shook it slightly to make the man look at his face before he smiled softly.

“You held me when I cried, you never said a word against me because of it and do you know how many people have done that for me? Lemme put it this way, I can count them on one hand and keep my thumb and three fingers down …Mac, I’ve always found it hard to let people see me, especially like that, but with you…”

He sighed trying to find the right words and glanced away before looking back at the older man. Mac was watching him intently and Danny wished more than anything to reach up and stroke the worry lines from his face.

“You’ve seen me at my worst and you’ve still kept me on your team. Believe me, I’ve never trusted anyone like I trust you. Even when you had me with you to disarm that bomb, I mean Mac,” he smirked with a blush, “I pretty much wanted to be anywhere except in front of an active bomb but I knew you wouldn’t let us get blown to bits.”

Mac smiled weakly but honestly before he looked down at the hand holding him. He didn’t try to shake it off or remove it in anyway and instead found himself leaning more into Danny’s personal space. Not too closely but he could feel the warmth of the other man’s body at the very least.

Silently he considered his options but then decided that most of his misgivings had been wrongly placed and he could feel heat at his cheeks before he realised he was blushing. He didn’t blush, or he at least was very good at hiding it but with a quick look at Danny he already knew his rosy cheeks hand been spotted by the smirk on the younger man’s face.

Still not saying a word he lifted his hand and offered Danny the photo where the other man then took it and looked down at it. He waited for Danny’s trademark grin and barrage of questions on how Mac had done this but he frowned when nothing came. Danny was studying the picture with a deathly silence and he looked paler than he had a few seconds ago. His eyes had seemed to harden when he looked back at Mac and instantly Mac knew that maybe Danny hadn’t told him everything.

“Where did you get this?” Danny said and Mac’s eyebrows lifted at the cooler more authoritative tone than he was used to.

“What?” he said thrown off by the new voice and jumped minutely when Danny grabbed his shoulders tightly.

“The picture, where’d you get it?” he said and there was a new edge of panic now.

“It was sent to me anonymously…Danny, what’s going on?” But Danny was already moving away with one hand buried in his hair as he muttered to himself.

“No, no, no, no, not again…”

“Danny? What’s doing on?” he repeated but he inhaled sharply when Danny punched the wall with a yell.

“NO! Not this time, not again!”

“Danny!” Mac barked and he relaxed inwardly when Danny reacted instantly and swung round to face him. Clearly he had forgotten his audience but already he was looking paler and he stared at Mac like a man waiting for his death sentence.

“What’s going on? What is that photograph of? What do you mean not again?” Mac said sharply but already Danny looked defeated and he moved to sink into his couch with a world-weary groan filled with honest grief. He looked even more beaten up than he had when Sonny had brought up his name in the interrogation room and without thinking Mac sat down next to him.

“Danny, please, you not five minutes ago told me you trusted me. Trust me again,” he said quietly and he watched as the younger man pressed the palm of his had into his eyes then turned to look at Mac.

“I can’t, you won’t believe me. It doesn’t make logical sense and Mac, lets face it, you’re a very logical man.”

“If I promise to remain open-minded will that mean you’ll trust me again?” Mac said softly and Danny looked pained as he locked eyes with him.

“I never and never will lose trust in you Mac. But Jesus, believe me this time, you won’t be able to make sense of this. I’d rather you never know than have you think me crazy.”

“Well that’s a pretty weak excuse as far as I’m concerned,” Mac said and Danny faced away again. He hesitated, clearly fighting some internal battle until finally with a heavy exhale he stood up and turned to face Mac.

“That picture was taken in 1842,” he started and Mac nodded.

“Yeah, I noticed the date. What, is it an ancestor? I’m gathering from your reaction you’ve seen it before.”

“Course I have…” Danny faltered once more and with one last desperate silent plea he watched Mac before sighing again, “ I was there when it was taken. And you’re not the first person that they have sent one too to force me to leave.”

……………………………………………………………………

Mac stared long and hard at the man in front of him, silent as he absorbed what he’d just been told. At first he felt numb from the shock but he quickly shook it off and could feel anger licking at his insides. Danny hadn’t ever deliberately tried to annoy Mac but that wasn’t to say he might be above such things and right then Mac wasn’t in the mood and, truth be told, was rather upset that the younger man would wind him up in such a way.

“I’m disappointed in you Danny, I’m trying to honestly ask you why someone would send me this. I highly doubt this is time to be playing games,” he said quietly and he watched as something akin to righteous anger flashed in the astonishingly blue eyes but Danny merely clenched his fists tightly as his jaw tightened.

“What’d you take me for Mac? You think I, of all people, am going to act like a putz when you’re on the rampage? I’m impulsive, not stupid,” he snapped and he watched as Mac’s eyes hardened even more so.

“Then explain to me why you feel it’s appropriate to joke about this,” Mac pointed at the image, “when I’m trying to understand…”

“I already said you wouldn’t believe me,” Danny said talking over the top of Mac and the older man looked at him carefully. They silently regarded one another until with his eyes narrowed in suspicion Mac nodded once at him.

“Alright, try me,” he said and Danny scoffed openly as he started walking to his kitchen.

“No way.”

“You said you trust me Danny, try me.”

“This isn’t about trust, this is about what you’ve been raised with and your perception on the world.”

“It’s a photograph Danny, I don’t see…”

Mac never got to finish what he was going to say because the next thing he knew he was pinned against the far wall of the living room, Danny’s forearm braced over his collarbone and the other pining his arm that had instinctively come up to defend himself against the wall by his wrist in a tight grip.

Mac gasped as the wind was knocked out of him and then blinked when he found Danny’s face not to inches from his own. He stared in disbelief at the fact that the younger man had moved so quickly and his eyes widened further when the familiar blue eyes changed a shade in colour to something lighter and the pupils were nothing more then pinpricks against the iris. He lowered his eyes to Danny’s mouth as the other man grinned at his obvious discomfort and he felt his heart lurch at what he saw. Danny had always had abnormally sharp canines, knew some of the girls in the lab loved it as it created a sense of danger around him but they were longer now, his lower lip now brushing the sharp tips and he found himself speechless when he looked back into the angry eyes.

“What’re you thinking now Detective Taylor? Parlour tricks? Maybe you’ve drunk too much? Maybe you’re sleeping,” Danny’s accent had thickened and was much lower now than usual as he spoke, “Because if you accept what just happened, if you accept what you see then it, like I said, will change your perception. Certainly changed mine.”

Mac still couldn’t find his voice but he did notice that the pressure of Danny’s arm over his chest had lessened.

“I tried to warn you, it was better that you never knew. But Christ Mac, you just hadda keep pushing didn’t you? Had to know everything when it didn’t concern you…”

“It concerned you,” Mac finally managed to croak out and both men seemed shocked by the revelation. Danny stared at him and Mac could feel his own heart thundering in his chest and felt it race harder when Danny looked down at his chest as though staring straight at it.

“You need to leave,” he whispered after a moment. Mac twitched his hand still held tightly and quietly groaned when Danny jerked away from him. He rubbed at his now freed wrist and stood watching the other man.

“You’re a…”

“Get out.”

“Danny, are you a vam…”

“Please, get out.”

“It’s not possible, it can’t be possible. I mean you…”

“OUT!”

Mac froze as he was once again confronted with the more animalistic looking Danny and breathing in deeply he set his face as impassively as possible and dealt with the evidence in front of him like he would anything else: by removing his own emotional opinion of it.

“You can’t really expect me to just leave when you’ve shown me something like you just did,” he said slowly and Danny’s eyes flashed.

“Any other sane person woulda been running for the hills now,” he growled but Mac simply resisted the urge to smirk.

“And when have I ever done what everyone else has?”

Danny looked at him sceptically before he started moving dangerously towards Mac. He resisted the instinct telling him to back up and listened instead to the voice that was whispering empathetically ‘its Danny. For all the faults and issues between them, it was still Danny stalking towards him.

“You think this is all made up Mac? Is that it? Because believe me, I could break your neck before you even had time to put those fancy Marine moves into action. I could’ve drained you dry long before you’d even flinched,” Danny was in his face now hissing each word threateningly but if there was one thing Mac was good at it was seeing what others missed. Underneath all the frightening demeanour, underneath the anger and danger were words of panic and fear.

“Then why haven’t you?” he whispered back and Danny’s head pulled back as though he’d been slapped, “Why haven’t you ‘drained me’, or ‘snapped my neck’ or whatever else it is you claim you could do so calmly to me? Why am I still standing here?”

Danny searched his eyes frantically but merely found himself more confused at the lack of fear in the pale blue gaze. Scrubbing harshly at the back of his head he looked down and away from the penetrating eyes.

“ ‘Cause you’re a stubborn sonovabitch,” he finally muttered and Mac felt one side of his lips twitch slightly.

“And you’d be wise not to forget it,” he teased and was relieved when Danny looked back at him exasperated. It was better than the hot air that usually got between them anyway.

“What’d you want Mac?” Danny said tiredly as he slumped into his sofa and pinched the bridge of his nose. Already he could feel his fangs returning to their normal size and when he next opened his eyes they were a more natural, alive blue.

“I want to understand.”

Danny looked up then and Mac felt that piercing gaze go right through him as the man before him tried to gauge his sincerity. Danny moved then, slowly but still predatorily towards Mac until his questioning eyes were mere inches from the unrevealing pale blue eyes.

“I could talk all night,” Danny finally said in a voice so low and soft that it threw Mac for a second, “I could explain histories, theories, mythologies and you still wouldn’t understand. I still don’t understand fully and I’ve lived like this for over a century, give or take.”

Mac knew, just knew deep in his very soul that this moment here was a defining one. It could mean the difference between saving the fragile relationship the two men had rebuilt or watching it crumble again under a new, more complicated strain. He knew he was a complicated man but he wasn’t willing to risk this all over again, especially if it meant losing Danny.

“Then don’t tell me,” he said in a tone matching that of Danny’s, “Show me instead.”

Danny physically blanched at Mac’s words, his eyes widening for a second before he took a step back.

“Don’t be an idiot Mac, it’s not very becoming for you,” he said sharply and made to turn away but Mac had moved before even he had consciously noticed and gripped Danny’s arm tightly.

“Danny, that picture has already made you skittish but more than anything I can see you’re all ready to run, from who I don’t know and we will discuss it but not right now. I won’t allow you to just run, you don’t need to do that and if this is the only way that it can make sense then I’m asking you to show me,” as Mac spoke he carefully undid his tie and folding it in his hands he placed it on the back of the chair beside him.

He watched as Danny’s eyes helplessly darted to his bare throat, Mac adding it by unbuttoning the top button of his shirt so the length of his neck was on show. He watched Danny’s adam’s apple bob as he swallowed and carefully Mac stepped forwards. Danny leaned back but didn’t actually move.

“Mac, I’m begging ya here…” Danny said hoarsely as he tried to tear his gaze away but with no result.

“Would you drain me?” Mac said as an afterthought and felt a guilty relief run through him when Danny shook his head negatively.

“No, no I can…I got control of that. It’s…Mac please, don’t do this…”

“Why not?” Mac whispered as he continued to move stealthily forwards until he was just one foot away from him.

“Mac, you gotta believe me when I saw its more than just biting and sucking,” Danny all but wrenched his eyes away from Mac’s throat then to his eyes and frowned, “The movies may be wrong about the sunlight and crosses but they certainly get one thing across everytime.”

”What’s that?” Mac edged closer.

“You ever wonder why the vampire’s ‘victims’ always look like they’re having the best orgasm in their God damned life as Dracula chows down on their neck? It’s because they are! You can’t swap bodily fluid and not have it be intimate Mac!”

Mac silently regarded the man in front of him and again deciding it was now or never he reached up and traced the side of Danny’s stunned face before lowering his hand again.

“You said that you trust me Danny,” he said and bodily moved into Danny’s personal space, “I think you can safely say it goes both ways. And to be honest…I already guessed it would be more than a quick nip.”

Danny closed his eyes tightly and shook his head slightly before looking up at Mac again. Mac didn’t say anything as he moved his hand up to cup Danny’s cheek once more with his wrist brushing near the blonde’s lips causing Danny’s eyes to flicker shut.

“Christ,” he whispered as he whipped his hands up and had Mac’s arm in his grip. With his eyes still closed he placed a savage kiss over the pulse beneath the warm skin pressed against his lips and Mac’s own eyes closed as the light suction sent shivers down his spine.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Danny growled as he moved his lips to Mac’s own and with his hands tightly threaded into the black hair he crushed their mouths together in a possessing kiss. Their teeth clacked together as open mouths tasted one another, tongues pressing and twining together again and again.

Mac found himself beginning to drift in uncertain warmth, his mind totally focused on the mouth claiming him and a distant part of him panicked at the loss of control. He’d never been submissive, couldn’t ever bring himself to hand over that part of him to someone else but right now it was being ripped away from him and he was shocked at how easily it was being done.

He didn’t know whether it was Danny or the vampire that was doing it but throwing caution to the wind he decided to go with it. He’d asked for this after all and it hardly seemed fair to force Danny into it only to back out seconds later.

Once he started something he was determined to finish it.

The minute he decided that he felt his entire body relax and Danny’s kisses softened in answer. He knew they were moving, could feel a shift in the air around him but Mac for the life of him couldn’t feel his feet moving but still, when he managed to pull away he looked around him and found himself in Danny’s bedroom. The door was open when he knew it had been closed earlier so they must of walked through it. It just seemed to happen so fast.

“Don’t analyse it,” Danny muttered as he took Mac’s ear between his lips and Mac shuddered again as he dropped his head back.

“Sorry, habit,” he managed to choke out before he groaned. He could feel Danny’s fingers softly brushing against the pulse in his neck even as the other man continued to nibble on his ear. The lips slowly began trailing down though and soon Mac found himself gripping Danny’s shoulder in one hand and hip in the other as Danny tongued his pulse. His grip tightened as Danny alternated between kissing it and licking it, and then he jerked with a gasp as one of Danny’s hands trailed to the almost painful bulge at his crotch, sliding back and forwards lazily.

Danny pulled his face up then and Mac licked his lips at the feral look once again on the vampire’s face. The teeth had extended once more and Danny’s eyes were drifting between the shade of death and his usual startling blue. He was grinning in a way that bared those lethal fangs but Mac felt anything but intimidated, the grin widening when he felt his arousal jerk in reply.

“I’m beginning to think the warning shoulda been for me,” Danny said in a husky teasing voice as he rocked his palm over Mac’s arousal before his voice turned serious again, “Why’d you never say anything Mac?”

Mac opened his mouth licking at his suddenly dry lips and made to speak but a quiet broken moan came out instead. Danny spared him and stilled his hand momentarily so he could speak and after closing his eyes to calm himself he then answered in a low voice.

“I’m your Supervisor and,” he swallowed heavily, “and there’s always…been something coming between us.”

“Tanglewood,” Danny said in an unimpressed tone and Mac nodded shakily.

“I wasn’t sure how, how you’d react towards me pushing my advances on you. Now,” he huffed out a laugh, “ well I’m guessing you’ve had worse than a employer romantically interested in you.”

Danny smirked at that and exhaled in amusement before he languidly started moving his hand again causing Mac to pant lightly. Leaning forwards to capture Mac’s ear Danny then whispered hotly into his ear, “Lie back.”

Mac followed the hands guiding him downwards and inhaled sharply when he was spread out on a soft mattress. He watched intently as Danny straddled his waist and ran his nails down Mac’s chest making the other man arch into the almost painful scratches. They ran back up until Danny had the two sides of Mac’s open collar and with a dangerous glint in his eye he tugged them forcibly effectively ripping Mac’s shirt open to expose his bare chest. Mac jumped as he did so and then shivered at the blue eyes running over his body possessively. He tensed slightly when they landed on the scar over his heart and flinched as Danny’s nails gently ran over it also.

He was, however, stunned into silence when Danny’s entire demeanour softened considerably when the vampire leant down to press a tender kiss over the matted flesh. Uncomfortable and yet strangely moved Mac reached up and moved Danny’s face higher to his collarbone earning himself a throaty chuckle as Danny followed without question.

“Guess that isn’t open for discussion then,” he murmured as he licked along the length of Mac’s shoulders. Mac opted not to reply and simply arched his neck at the intoxicating sensations but then froze when the lips moved further up onto his pulse once again.

“Last time Mac,” Danny warned even as he roughly unbuckled Mac’s belt and pulled down his zipper agonizingly slowly, “Last chance to turn back from all of this. Let it all be a strange dream and deny it ever happened, otherwise this is it, I’m taking what’s so beautifully on offer.”

He could feel Danny’s fingers running the length of his boxer briefs, plucking at the elastic waist absent-mindedly and stroking the flesh under the waist gently making his abdomen twitch at the sensations. His heartbeat had increased and he felt Danny groan against it as he licked at it, tasting it almost before he moaned loudly.

“Do it,” he whispered and he heard what sounded like a breath being released as Danny changed with his face pressed against Mac’s neck. He reached into Mac’s boxers and gripped the hot erection tightly, twisting it lightly as he darted his tongue out one last time.

Then Mac gasped as a sharp quick pain shot through his neck.

His mouth dropped open as the pain quickly turned to pleasure from both the hand squeezing his arousal in a fluctuating rhythm and the massaging suction on his throat. He could hear the sounds of Danny sucking at his neck and it intensified the feelings running through him as he reached one hand up to grip the short blonde hair tightly in his fingers, pushing the vampire closer as he arched into the sensation. He started rocking his hips into Danny’s touch and even as intense shudders took his body he used his free hand to undo Danny’s own belt. He practically ripped the zipper down and with a trembling hand he pulled Danny’s own erection out and both men gasped as they pushed their groins together.

Mac held them both in one hand and frantically began pulling a climax out of both of them, their bodies moving violently against one another now as they rocked into one another, Danny’s hips moving like pistons against his own.

He arched his neck further back begging silently for Danny to continue and in reply the vampire increased the suction until Mac began to feel light-headed. Seemingly sensing it Danny literally tore his face away and Mac looked up into the vampiric face. Danny’s pupils had diluted so the blue was barely visible and his lips were a glistening red from the blood. His teeth were stained until he licked his tongue over them and then he leaned forwards savagely taking Mac’s mouth again.

Mac groaned at the coppery taste that flooded his mouth then. It was perverse, he knew that much but still he felt his urgency grow at the metallic tasting liquid on Danny’s tongue as it danced with his own. His tongue ran over the sharp fangs and sadistically he pushed against it until he drew blood from the tip of his tongue, both men groaning at the sensation. He would’ve tempted his lover more but a tell-tale tingle at the base of his spine told him he was close and he shivered when a firm grip joined his own. He slipped his hand away from the blonde hair between his fingers to run his nails down Danny’s arms more than certain that they would leave scratch marks. Together they frantically moved their hands up and down jerkily until with a resounding gasp Mac came all over their joined hands and their stomachs, the movement of them rocking together rubbing the white streaks into one another’s skin as Danny followed him into climax a couple of seconds later.

They collapsed together, Mac giving a tight grunt as Danny’s weight landed on him before the vampire pushed up to lie beside him instead of on top of him. Both were laid out on their backs staring up at the ceiling as Mac panted for breath. Keeping their eyes heaven-bound Danny hesitantly reached over until he had his hand placed over Mac’s. Neither moved for a moment as the tense silence filled the room around them.

Then slowly Mac turned his hand until they were pressed palm to palm, and linked their fingers together.

“…I belong to you now, don’t I?” Mac said in a whisper.

“Mac…you always did. I had you from the moment you felt something between us.”

“Vampire’s claim?”

“…If it helps you sleep at night.”

Lazily turning his head Mac stared at Danny’s profile and regarded him silently before he nodded in tired acceptance. Danny dropped his face to look at him and squeezed their joined hands tightly.

“Frightened?”

“Apprehensive,” Mac replied after a brief hesitant moment.

“Good, means you’re still thinking logically.”

Mac nodded thoughtlessly and closed his eyes as Danny rolled back towards him to kiss him once more. It was the last time they spoke with words for the rest of the night.

Finite

You better shut your mouth, and hold your breath
You kiss me now, you catch your death, oh I mean this...

More to the Angel series

2006-08-09T09:34:09Z

Title- Never Alone: Sans Peur
Rating-R
Pairing-Gibbs/DiNozzo(Pariseau)
Disclaimer - The NCIS characters belong to CBS and not me, The song 'Never Alone' belongs to the Barlow Girls and the YouTubs video belongs to guangxvu, not me. No money is being made and this is all for fun!
Genre-Angst/Romance/Character Study
Summary-"We cannot separate, ‘Cause You're part of me. And though You're invisible, I'll trust the unseen"

AN: Consider this the prologue to Kendreague if you will. Kendreague was pretty much told from Gibbs’s point of view so I have here a few flashes of Tony’s life to the song ‘Never Alone’ by the Barlow Girls. I highly recommend listening to it (unfortunately I can’t seem to find a single audio of it so I’m including the link to a random YouTube video featuring the Girls performing it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pztFFxzCzmI).

It is recommended that you also read ‘Kendreague’ first to understand most of this story so here is Part one: http://community.livejournal.com/ncis_slash/97887.html#cutid1

And part two: http://community.livejournal.com/ncis_slash/98382.html#cutid1

Now on with the show!

Never Alone: Sans Peur

I waited for you today, But you didn't show, No no no
I needed You today, So where did You go?

Anthony Pariseau ducked reflexively and scrunched his eyes shut against the flying debris. When he opened them again he swore loudly and pushed his helmet more firmly onto his head and pulled his musket closer to his chest. Glancing around at his men, all tensed ready against the tall damp walls of the trench he breathed in deeply. A young soldier, no more than an 18-year-old boy, caught his eye and Anthony could see the fear in them.

He reached out his hand and clamped it reassuringly on the boy’s shoulder where he squeezed it gently.

“What’s your name kid?” he said and the boy stuttered at first before managing a weak “A-Abraham Dyers, Brigadier Sir.”

“You scared Dyers?” he asked calmly and the boy hesitated before nodding. Clearly a boy not trying to earn points by acting macho. Anthony appreciated that.

“Me too kid, and there’s nothing wrong with that. It means you’re a man.”

Dyers stared at him for a moment before the tiniest smile tugged at one side of his mouth. It was nothing more than a flicker but the boy seemed to find something inside himself as he tilted his helmet back into place. Anthony grinned at Dyers then tilted his head to the sky. The black clouds rolled angrily across the sky and Anthony couldn’t help feeling they were appropriate.

He closed his eyes in bitter acceptance as the first loud shrill of a whistle filled the trench.

You told me to call, Said You'd be there
And though I haven't seen You, Are You still there?

It was getting harder to breath and Anthony kept wondering ‘Why?’ His vision seemed blurred round the edges, his breathing laboured and his body was screaming in agony, its centre point seeming to be his chest.

All around him he could hear cries of pain and battle, guns firing everywhere and mines exploding but it wasn’t crisp, the sound was muted as though he had water in his ears. Tiredly he let his head fall to one side and watched in numbed horror at the scene of War surrounding him. Bodies were strewn out across the vast dead field, soldiers still coming together with cries of anger, of pain and men were being shot down as they ran to meet their enemy. Rolling his face back to the sky his breathing seemed to fill his ears in loud, harsh gasps. His arm sluggishly reached up to his chest, slow as though he was moving it through tar and he touched his chest where he then screamed in agony. Lifting his hand up he stared at it fascinated.

His fingers were soaked red, brilliant vibrant red and he curled his fingers slightly inwards watching in morbid curiosity as a river trail of the colour followed the movement until a drop clung to the tip of his nail desperately. It hung there for a moment, balancing dangerously before it fell in what felt like slow motion. It cut through the air until it landed like a teardrop on his cheek.

Anthony’s hand begun to shake until with a gasp he lost the energy to hold it up. It dropped as though it were made of lead back onto the ground and Tony arched his back as blinding pain shot through him. He gritted his teeth together almost painfully until with one last hoarse cry Anthony finally gave up the fight.

The second he did he felt his body encased in warmth.

I cried out with no reply, And I can feel You by my side
So I'll hold tight to what I know, You're here and I'm never alone

Anthony stared at the mirror in front of him with wide eyes. To be fair it wasn’t really a mirror, at least not in the traditional sense. A huge Celtic arch stretched over and around it, twining round the edges like ivy and the wiry patterns stretched backwards into the wall where it then made a large image of the Celtic Tree of Life, a motif that looked proudly over the Great Hall he stood in. Anthony though had merely glanced at it as he’d first entered the room before his gaze had fallen on the mirror.

Wings. He had wings. Great white ones protruding from his shoulder blades and stretched out similar in the way a bird’s does when threatened. Still staring at his reflection Anthony reached back awkwardly until his hand fell onto the strong joint of the wing shoulder blades. Surprised he gave a muted yelp and pulled his hand back.

“Holy shit,” he whispered as he placed a hand to his mouth. He heard a deep chuckle from behind him before he whipped round to come face to face with a tall black man. He was bald and his brown eyes were alight with amusement as he moved towards Anthony causing the black jacket he was wearing to swirl slightly and, much to Anthony’s shock, wings that stretched from his back twitched from the movement. Anthony as a reflex took a step back.

“It’s alright man, I’m not going to hurt you although I will say that blasphemy like that is frowned upon up here. Name’s Doctor Jack Hallows,” he said, a chuckle still evident in his voice as he held out his hand and cautiously Anthony took it.

“Brigadier General Anthony Pariseau,” Anthony said and was relieved that his voice was steadier than he felt. Doctor Hallows shook it before leaning back again with a wide smirk on his face.

“I imagine you must be quite curious about them there wings,” he said still grinning and Anthony looked at him in disbelief.

“The thought had crossed my mind, yes.”

“Brigadier, you may want to take a seat. Let me tell you about Kahrees…”

And though I cannot see You, And I can explain why
Such a deep, deep reassurance, You've placed in my life

Anthony felt his heart break at the sight before him. The boy, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, was clearly biting back all his tears and grief, which was ridiculous. If a boy wasn’t allowed to mourn his father then who the Hell could?

Anthony could feel a breeze around him ruffling his feathers and causing his coat to billow ever so slightly. He had his hands in his pockets as he moved closer and every step added more and more cracks in his heart as he neared the boy, his ‘Beloved’ from now on. The boy’s thoughts flooded his head like he had an entire mob of people yelling at him and Anthony strongly resisted clapping his hands to his ears. He’d protected mortals before, not really becoming their Kendreague as such but protecting them from harm but he knew by just looking at this tiny boy, hurt and confused about a matter he was far too young to have to understand, that he had found the one he’d pledge his life to.

‘Daddy is dead…’

‘I’m Four, not stupid, I know a little about death…’

‘Daddy!’

‘Is he in Heaven?’

‘I’m a boy, I can’t cry! Only sissies cry!’

“Crying doesn’t make you a sissy,” Anthony said finally, not able to bear hearing anymore of the anguished words. Already they’d buried themselves deep in his soul and he’d be damned if he would let this boy continue to feel such pain.

If he had to he’d take it into himself.

There was a flash of fear in Jethro’s eyes when he looked up that for just a second he reminded Anthony of another boy, of Abraham Dyers who died for his country, and his resolve to protect this one became stronger.

He couldn’t help the smile that came to his lips when he felt the fear evolve into curiosity and finally speculation. He was crouched before Jethro and he remained silent allowing the boy to draw his own conclusions. Finally Jethro managed to find his voice.

“You’re an angel,” he said in a tone suggesting he was telling Anthony this strange new fact. Unable to help himself Anthony chuckled in amusement, smiling wider when Jethro relaxed even further at the sound.

“I am,” Anthony clarified and he chuckled a little more when Jethro cocked his head like a puppy. It was all Anthony could do not to pull the boy close and hug him simply for being him.

“I thought Angels only came for you when you died? That’s what Grandma said…am I dead? Will I see dad again?”

Instantly Anthony’s good mood fell away and his heart once again felt for the remorse in his Beloved. Never would he wish death on the boy but he so wanted to grant Jethro his wish to see his father. Clearly though he didn’t need to say a word as Jethro’s face became stricken and he dropped his head to hide it.

Anthony reacted purely on instinct and reached out to cup Jethro’s small cheek trying to project as much love as he could into the touch. Jethro leaned into it slightly and Anthony found the strength to answer from that small gesture.

“Not today,” he said softly and sighed sadly when Jethro nodded. Soon though Jethro reached up to rub at his eyes, warding away tears angrily so Anthony reached up to gently grip the tiny hand in his and moved it back to the boy’s side.

“You can cry Jethro, I won’t tell anyone,” he whispered. Jethro’s flushed face looked up at him and Anthony smiled as lovingly as he could through the pain he was feeling from such grief. He saw the moment in Jethro’s stunning blue eyes when the dam finally broke and Jethro’s face fell. The loud sob went right through Anthony and made him reach out to pull Jethro to him. He wrapped him tightly in his embrace, arms and wings both, as he held his Beloved. Jethro was crying quietly, almost silently at this point.

His hand moved on its own as it stroked through Jethro’s brown hair, holding the boy close as he rocked him gently to calm him. It was then that a song floated through his mind, the one his mother used to sing to him when he was afraid or upset as a boy and softly he began to sing to his Jethro. He smiled a little when he felt the small body in his arms lose the tight tension of pain and relaxed marginally. In answer Anthony tightened his hold.

Eventually Jethro pulled back but not far enough out of Anthony’s arms. He felt a shiver of happiness run through him as he heard Jethro’s possessive mental claim on Anthony as his own, his angel, his protector. Jethro resisted telling him that it was so from the minute he stood before the little boy on the wing mourning his father.

Jethro’s hand moved to rest on his cheek and Anthony smiled at the gesture. Such a short period of time had passed and already Jethro had complete control over him, already he had the power to bring immeasurable happiness to this angel through a single touch. Jethro’s arms then slipped around his neck and Anthony moved his arms to steady his Beloved better.

“Are you going to go away too?” Jethro asked hesitantly and Anthony couldn’t help but chuckle. Like he could leave willingly anymore, this little creature in his arms enthralled him with phenomenal amounts of courage that coursed through his veins.

“I’m with you until you don’t want me anymore,” he promised and for the first time that day Jethro smiled brightly. Anthony smiled in return finding the boy’s grin entirely infectious.

“Forever,” Jethro demanded and Anthony smirked again in amusement.

“Forever it is then.”

The giggle that came from Jethro earned him a little squeeze from the Angel until he cocked his head curiously once more.

“What’s your name?” Jethro asked and Anthony reached up to gently tap the boy’s nose.

“I’m Anthony, your angel.”

“My Angel,” Jethro said firmly before he squeezed Anthony’s neck again in a tight hug.

We cannot separate, ‘Cause You're part of me
And though You're invisible, I'll trust the unseen

Anthony exhaled slowly through his nose, thoroughly relaxed and opened his eyes. He was led on his side and he smiled gently as he found Jethro’s messy brown hair on the pillow next to him. The seven year old was deeply asleep, his mouth open slightly and his body pressed into Anthony’s side. Carefully, trying not to wake his Beloved Anthony curled his wing round and covered Jethro’s slumbering form with it like a blanket.

He gently kissed the boy’s forehead and leaned his cheek against the mess of brown hair and quietly hummed their tune. Jethro had stolen his heart a long time ago and he would do anything, whether it was wrong or not, to protect this strong-willed child. Anthony had never had a son when he was human and he thought that maybe Jethro could be considered the closest thing he would to having one. But there was something more, something even stronger between them, he already knew that. He already knew the other Kahree Angels whispered about their closeness, some admiring, some envious but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Jethro owned him, heart and soul. If it were possible, he’d die for this child.

“Angel?”

Anthony looked down at Jethro and found bleary blue eyes looking back up at him. He smiled gently and brushed some of Jethro’s fringe out of his eyes.

“Yes Jethro?”

“Can’t you sleep?”

“Don’t really need it,” Anthony admitted and smirked when he heard a mumbled ‘Lucky’.

“Am I thinking too loud?” he asked and Jethro shrugged.

“Can’t hear you silly.”

“Really?” Anthony said amused and then, without moving his mouth he said in his mind, “How about now?”

Jethro’s eyes widened before the boy grinned widely (or as widely as a sleepy boy could manage) before mumbling an awe struck “Wow!”

“You try, think something. I’ll hear you,” Anthony said smiling again and he watched as Jethro scrunched up his face trying to think extra hard. Anthony laughed and reached up to smooth out Jethro’s forehead.

“Don’t try to hard, just think normally, like you would if I hadn’t told you about this.”

“Oh.”

Jethro flushed but relaxed his face again. At first Anthony couldn’t hear a thing but then, like a whisper he heard “Come in Angel one, do you read me?”

Anthony laughed loudly and Jethro grinned happily as the angel rolled onto his back.

“Goodness me, do you ever NOT think about the army?” Anthony managed to gasp out before yelping out a giggle when Jethro, now fully awake, jumped on him.

“Nope! I want to be a Brigadier like you were!”

Anthony sobered instantly and he could see that Jethro picked up on it. Moving his arms around Jethro’s waist Anthony sat up with the boy still in his lap. He gazed kindly at his Beloved as he brushed some hair behind Jethro’s ear and sighed inaudibly.

“Jethro…” he started but Jethro silenced him by wrapping his arms around Anthony’s neck and hugged him tightly.

“Its okay, I’ll stay safe.”

“You can’t know that,” Anthony whispered but Jethro’s arms tightened.

“I can. Because I have you.”

Strange really, how Anthony suddenly felt like crying.

I cried out with no reply, And I can feel You by my side
So I'll hold tight to what I know, You're here and I'm never alone

Anthony clapped his hands to his ears and gritted his teeth as tears continued to run down his face. He curled further into the wall of the darkened room and tried to stop the angry words from consuming him.

“Go away!”

He sobbed loudly and shook his head. How could this happen? Jethro had promised him forever and forever hadn’t come. Why would he…

“DON’T TOUCH ME! YOU’RE NOT REAL! YOU’RE NOT!”

His body ached with pain, so much pain and he felt like he was dying all over again only this time it wasn’t from a hole in his chest. No, the hole was carved out of his heart and it threatened to shatter his soul, which already teetered on the edge waiting to break into irreparable pieces.

“I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU! GO AWAY, I DON’T NEED YOU ANYMORE! GO AWAY!”

The same Angels that had envied him now pitied him and he hated them for it! He hated them for not feeling the same pain as he was, he hated them for looking at him in that way but as soon as this flickered across his mind he groaned in grief and begged for forgiveness. He didn’t hate them, couldn’t and wouldn’t ever hate them, but God he hurt!

His arms ached to hold his Beloved close, and he flinched when the memory of Jethro’s physical rejection, slapping his hand away as though it were evil flashed across his mind’s eye. Why had Jethro done this? They were eternal, they could both feel it.

The sobs clawed at his throat like nails and he finally allowed himself to cry, the sound escaping him like a wounded animal as he curled in further. He cried for their loss of friendship, he cried for their loss of love and he cried for his pain.

But he cried for Jethro’s too because even though he’d been banished, even though he couldn’t hear his Beloveds thoughts, he could still feel both their hearts breaking.

Dying was easy compared to this.

We cannot separate, you're part of me
And though you're invisible, I trust the unseen

“That’s a long way to fall.”

Anthony looked over at Jack before he looked back down at the endless sky beneath their feet, the glass floor holding them up as they both stared downwards. He nodded solemnly and felt rather than heard the other Angel sigh beside him.

“Brigadier,” Anthony smiled slightly at the title, a term of endearment between them both as he still called Jack ‘Doctor’, “Are you sure about this? Leroy Jethro Gibbs banished you. How do you know he won’t do so again? He’s a man now, he won’t be as accepting as he was as a child.”

“Because I trust him,” Anthony said simply, softly.

“You trust an uncertain theory and a memory. Look, I know you two were close, Hell I would’ve said you were soul mates if you were mortal…”

“Do they exist?” Anthony said and Jack glared fondly at him.

“Yes, stop changing the subject. You know I just want what’s best for you…”

“Then you know I must do this…Jack, this isn’t living for me…”

Jack looked hesitant before he sighed heavily and looked down. He watched the clouds rolling underneath them silently for a couple of minutes until he nodded slowly and addressed Anthony again.

“I know. I’ve watched you mourn for too long friend and it’s killing me,” he glanced up and looked at Anthony seriously, “I’ve been waiting for something like this.”

“I need to do this,” Anthony said firmly and again Jack nodded. They stood there for a moment before Jack pulled Anthony forwards into a tight hug. Anthony was momentarily shocked before he relaxed into the embrace and returned it.

“The minute you two pop your clogs I’m coming to get you. It’s going to get lonely up here without you Brigadier, I might actually have to start behaving like an Angel for once.”

Anthony barked out a laugh and patted Jack’s shoulder.

“No more poker nights.”

“Well not without you around to convince the Kariads to play strip poker anyway. I never was that charming.”

They squeezed one another harder before stepping back their hands still gripping one another’s shoulders. After another squeeze Jack stepped back and gave a curt nod.

“Make it count Brigadier.”

“Yes Doctor.”

With a breathless laugh Jack began to fade until finally only Anthony was left standing on the glass. He looked up squinting at the sunlight surrounding him from the sky before turning his gaze back to the rolling clouds beneath him. Closing his eyes momentarily he felt his wings fold in and his back itched as they buried into his skin. With them no longer out on show but still there Anthony inhaled shakily and nodded before opening his eyes.

“Do it,” he muttered.

The glass beneath his feet shattered loudly and he gasped as he began to fall. Everything felt as though it was in slow motion and he watched fascinated as the glass shards turned to water around him, as they turned to raindrops.

The Heavens had opened and it mourned as another Angel fell.

I cried out with no reply, And I can feel You by my side
So I'll hold tight to what I know, You're here and I'm never alone

Tony stretched slightly as he sat up, his wings extending before he growled happily to finish. He looked down at Gibbs lying beside him on the bed and blinked in surprise at the intense gaze his lover had fixed him with.

“What?” he said and Jethro, without warning, sat up cupping the back of his head. He pulled Tony forwards until their lips were pressed together in a passionate kiss and despite giving a yelp of surprise Tony followed it with a moan and kissed back.

Gibbs’s hand ran down the length of his side until it moved round to his front touching his chest. Tony watched as Gibbs pulled back to stare at his own fingers resting on Tony’s body and carefully he moved a wing round to brush over Jethro’s side.

“You okay?” he asked quietly and for a moment Jethro remained silent, his eyes now shifting upwards to look into his lover’s. After a while though Gibbs cleared his throat and opened his mouth to say something. He hesitated but soon found his voice and spoke in a hoarse tone.

“I had a dream last night,” he said slowly and Tony cocked his head whilst raising his eyebrows.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked confused and again Gibbs hesitated. He licked his lips nervously before pulling Tony forwards again into a tight hug. Instinctively Tony wrapped both his arms and wings around Gibbs in a comforting manner waiting for Jethro to find the strength to carry on.

“I…I think I saw your life…parts of it at least.”

Tony pulled back just enough to see Gibbs’s face and reached up to stroke a cheek.

“What makes you say that?”

“I saw,” Gibbs cleared his throat again, “I saw you in the trench with Abraham Dyers…I saw you die…Jesus, I saw you die Tony…”

Understanding appeared on Tony’s face and he uttered a soft drawn out ‘Oh.’ He pulled Jethro closer again and cradled him protectively.

“Jethro…”

“I saw,” Gibbs interrupted him again, “ I saw Doctor Jack Hallows, I saw when we first met. I saw…”

He stopped and looked up at Tony anxiously. Smiling a little Tony nodded for him to continue which he did shakily.

“…I’m so sorry Tony. I saw you, after what I said, I saw you. I didn’t realise…”

“It’s in the past,” Tony said gently but firmly, as though they weren’t to speak of it again. Gibbs knew though that Tony would talk about it if Jethro so wished but Jethro didn’t really feel all that compelled to remember the extent of Tony’s grief. The fuzzy memory alone was enough to fill him with guilt.

“And I saw you fall Tony. You fell for me.”

“You already knew that,” Tony said confused but Gibbs shook his head.

“Hearing and seeing are two different things. I’ve always assumed it was a metaphorical fall, not a literal one!”

Tony laughed and simply because he felt like it he kissed Gibbs again. They savoured the taste of one another, neither really willing to give it up for air. Jethro’s arm tightened around his lover, holding him closer to his body and carefully he moved backwards until he was stretched out beneath Tony. He slid his hands upwards until he came to the strong joints of the wings on his lover’s back where he ran his fingers through the feathers covering it. He felt Tony moan and returned the sound when Tony pressed down against him.

He pulled his head back and moved his hands round to cup Tony’s face between both of his gently. Tony seemed to know he needed this and remained silent as Gibbs’s blue eyes darted over his features, drinking the sight of him in to forever imprint it in his memory. His thumbs moved in slow circles before drifting over Tony’s now closed eyes.

“I love you,” Jethro whispered and Tony smiled brightly as he opened his eyes. There was a glimmer of amusement in them as he answered.

“I fell for you ages ago.”

Jethro laughed as he simultaneously groaned before he lightly tapped the back of Tony’s head making the angel flinch.

“How did Doctor Hallows put up with you?” he asked and Tony grinned widely.

“Easy, we were the only two angels that appreciated the joke about the two Nuns who went into a brothel…”

“Tony?”

“Yes Jethro?”

“Shut up.”

“Yes Boss.”

Grinning Gibbs drew Tony back in for another kiss.

/Finite

AN: Hope you like.

Wikipedia

2006-08-09T09:32:03Z

Go to Wikipedia. In the Search box, type your birth month and day (but not year). List three events that happened on your birthday. List two important birthdays and one interesting death. Post this in your journal.

Events:

*1554-A year after claiming the throne of England for nine days, Lady Jane Grey is beheaded for Treason.

*2004 - On National Freedom to Marry Day, two days after Mayor Gavin Newsom of San Francisco, California, issued a directive to the county clerk, the City and County of San Franciso begins issuing marriage licenses to same-sex couples.

*2006 - Vice President Dick Cheney accidently shoots friend Harry Whittington in the face during a hunting trip in Kenedy County, Texas, becoming the first VIce President to shoot a man since Aaron Burr killed Alexander Hamilton.

Birthdays:

1809 - Charles Darwin, English Naturalist

1980 - Christina Ricci, American Actress

Deaths:

1554 - Lord Guilford Dudley, consort of Lady Jane Grey

The Angels series

2006-07-25T21:19:47Z

Final part of my two parter.

Title: Kendreague
Genre: Angst/Romance/supernatural (NOT the TV series)
Rating: R
Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo
Disclaimer: None of the CBS characters of NCIS belong to me and I'm making no money from this.
Summary: "If your hands were in mine, I'd be sure they would not sever, My apple tree, my brightness, its time we were together." Part 2/2

Kendreague

Previously:

“I…” Gibbs inhaled sharply and tried again, his mind in disarray as flashes of past memories flew in, “I…every year…every year I try to…I lost…”

Tony felt his eyes burn as Gibbs backed away a little. He blinked back any of the itchiness he felt in the tear ducts at seeing Gibbs pull away from him…

…Again.

Gibbs’s hand twitched as though he wanted to raise it and finally he managed to breath out a question.

“My Angel?”

Part 2/2

Both men were frozen where they stood, neither moving forwards nor backwards and simply staring at one another: One in shock, one in a blind panic.

Tony cursed himself in several languages mentally for not being more careful, for revealing himself to someone who had, for all intents and purposes, banished him from their precense. So much he wanted to move towards Gibbs, towards Jethro but the memory of their last encounter as boy and angel still rang throughout his mind, the pain of it too much sometimes that he indulged in extremely stupid mortal dalliances.

“Tony? Anthony, my…” Gibbs faltered on his sentence and Tony had to resist wincing at the furtive shake of the other man’s head.

Well like the saying said, in for a penny in for a pound. Calmly Tony placed his bottle down on the nearest flat surface and then, for lack of anything better, he shoved his hands into his pockets to face Jethro.

“Hello Jethro,” he said in a painfully defeated tone.

“Jesus Christ,” Gibbs breathed out and Tony managed a small smirk.

“Blasphemy in front of an angel probably isn’t a good idea,” he joked weakly but quickly sobered when Jethro shook his head minutely.

“This isn’t…you can’t be real,” Gibbs said almost furiously and Tony had to close his eyes at the words.

’Just please don’t call me a ‘thing’ again, please,’ he thought desperately and clenched his hands still inside his pockets. Exhaling shakily Tony opened his eyes and carefully considered the man in front of him.

“I’m real, you can see me, you can touch me,” he watched as Jethro quickly headed to a seat and sat down heavily with his head buried in his hands, “You’ve been ‘feeling’ me all day.”

Blinking Gibbs slowly touched his chest and laid it out flat over his heartbeat. He could still feel that comforting warmth in his chest and let his wary glance flicker to Tony.

“Like a hug,” he mumbled but then quickly shook his head again, “But that isn’t possible, angels aren’t real!”

“Good thing I’m not a fairy, that could’ve killed me,” Tony mumbled quietly before speaking up again, “Says who? You? You believed in us…in me once.”

“I was a kid who had just lost his father, I’m pretty sure I would’ve believed anything if it made the pain go away,” Gibbs said angrily and glared at Tony. Tony straightened his back a little and looked down at Jethro. Gibbs had to marvel at how something in side of him cowed at the look of faint disappointment in those usually so careless and gentle eyes. Just like when he’d been a kid and Angel had disapproved of something he’d done.

“For six years?” Tony said quietly and Gibbs closed his hands into fists at the sadness tainting those words. He even felt the room change in temperature and glancing up again at Tony (who was looking down at the floor now distraught) he swallowed heavily.

“Say I believe you,” Tony looked up carefully at that point so Gibbs continued, “Say that you are indeed My Angel…why haven’t I felt you? Or the changes in your emotions, because I remember that happening. The entire room would change, I think I’d notice if it happened at work.”

Tony huffed out a humourless laugh and lifted one hand to his hair to run it through the strands.

“You stopped believing in me, you wouldn’t be able to ‘feel’ me until you believed again.”

“That can’t be right,” Gibbs said as he frowned and Tony looked at him quizzically.

“Why not?”

“Because the room just changed and I can’t believe in…in such things.”

Tony slowly lowered his hand and Gibbs had to look away from the tiny flicker of hope he saw in those hazel eyes. Clearing his throat he returned his gaze to the floor and leant forwards, his arms resting on his knees as he clasped his hands together.

“And…and you’re younger than me, but you were, back then, you were…” he looked up and gestured wildly at Tony, “You were like that!”

“I don’t age,” Tony faltered now and scrubbed the back of his head again, “well, I didn’t at least. Now I probably will.”

Gibbs shook his head again in confusion.

“Why?”

“I sort of…fell but not.” Tony winced at that explanation and wasn’t surprised when Jethro looked at him bemused.

“Excuse me?”

Sighing Tony moved forwards and dropped into the seat across from Jethro. Linking his fingers together he gathered himself, pulling his mindset out of his more mortal self and back into that of his heritage.

“You stopped believing in me Jethro, and I’m not entirely sure it was by choice. One day you loved me unconditionally and the next you were banishing me,” he said in the calm tone he was used to using from all those years ago and he watched as Jethro flinched.

“The thing is, I wanted to be with you then, to protect you through anything but there wasn’t going to be a way for me to do that without angering you further,” he raised a hand when Jethro made to cut him off, “Please, let me finish?”

Gibbs stared at him silently for a moment before he nodded once.

“So I,” he sighed, “Jethro, I couldn’t just leave you. Kahree angels, we were created to love and protect and we are forever linked to the same soul in all its lives from the moment that we are first joined. I’ve always loved you, to be apart would kill me emotionally, if not physically.”

“Kah…” Gibbs cleared his throat and tried again, “Kahree angels?”

He was trying not to feel his heart hammer at his chest at the thought of Tony dying because of his rejection and another part of him wanted to berate that same fear for actually beginning to believe Tony’s words. It was impossible, all of it, it had to be.

Funny how that argument seemed to be getting weaker inside of him.

“Yes, sorry, Kahree angel is basically guardian angel but in an older tongue. ‘To love’ I believe is the translation.”

“That makes it sound like there are different, you know, types of…you know…” Gibbs gestured towards Tony and Tony nodded solemnly.

“That’s because there are. Kahree is the overall name for guardians but there are different names for male and female guardians. I’m a Kendreague, ‘Loving male’, and females are Kariads, ‘beloveds’…are you still okay with this?” Tony said anxiously and Gibbs leaned back a little rubbing at his temple.

“Yeah, I need to have this make sense. Carry on,” he said in a voice just above a whisper and with another worried glance Tony continued.

“There are the muses that go by the name Aislinns, that basically translates as ‘Vision or inspiration’. They’re the ones who place the whispers of ideas in people’s heads but they aren’t assigned to one person. They feed off the level of energy coming from a person’s mind and help bring down the walls blocking the ideas.”

Tony stopped for a moment to gauge Jethro’s reaction but the man did seem calmer, if only minutely, to have information he could gather and analyze. That he could try to understand and study to create his own opinion. Taking a deep breath, he continued.

“Then of course you have the Warriors who defend Heaven when it is called upon.”

“Like an army?” Gibbs said looking up and Tony managed to chuckle lightly.

“Figured that’d get your attention, yeah like an army. Overall they’re called the Adalardo, ‘the Nobles’, but again there are different categories. There are the Saeths, Bowmen of Heaven if you will, and Cadmons who act as the Infantry. A Commanding Officer is known as the Caedmon, ‘Wise Warrior’ and the difference with these angels to say, ones like the Aislinns, is that when a human dies he can become a Cadmon.”

“What about you?” Gibbs said quietly and both men looked at each other, “Were you always like this or did you…”

“I was human once, such a long time ago now. Humans can become Kahrees and Cadmons but the muses, the Oracles, the Archangels, they’re all born as angels.”

Gibbs moaned and dropped his head forwards into his hands.

“This is too much at once isn’t it?” Tony said quietly and Gibbs sighed loudly.

“I don’t know, yes, no. But, you said you fell. I mean, Christ Tony, you were alive, you died, you were a, a…”

“Kendreague, and I still am.”

“What? But you said you fell. I was always taught that was when an angel was removed from Heaven,” Gibbs was frowning at him now and sighing equally as heavily as Jethro had a moment ago Tony leaned closer to him.

“I kind of fell. I wasn’t punished or removed from Heaven, I just decided that since I couldn’t protect you as an Ethereal being that I might as well do it as, as um, a human. It just means that I have to stay here on Earth until you die, in which my bonds to this Earth are then broken and I can return ho…back there.”

“But that means you’ve trapped yourself,” Gibbs said incredulously and Tony shook his head.

“No, I enjoy my life here. I chose to have it this way, I knew what I was doing.”

“You just can’t go home.”

Tony’s brow furrowed slightly at the saddened tone in Jethro’s voice and standing he put his hands back in his pockets and moved to stand beside Jethro’s seat.

“I can one day.”

“…So you’re completely human then? Right now?” Gibbs said looking up curiously at Tony and frowned again when Tony shifted nervously from one foot to another.

“Yes and no.”

“Can’t you give a straight answer?” Gibbs growled and Tony managed a weak smile at that. If Jethro was growling it meant he was getting some sort of equilibrium back.

“I can bleed, I can feel pain, and I can even come close to death. But I can’t die, not until you do. Just hurts like a bitch if I get shot.” He lowered himself down so he was crouching beside Jethro’s chair and greatly resisted reaching out to touch the man in front of him. Tony could still see that boy he loved so dearly in the grown man’s eyes but his love had evolved since then, matured and in some sense, become more human in some aspects.

Gibbs watched him silently, his eyes drifting around the handsome face like it had so many times before when he was just a boy and he felt his hand twitch as though to move towards Tony’s face. Something flickered across his thoughts and he glanced at Tony’s shoulders.

“Do you still have wings?” he whispered and Tony swallowed as he stood again.

“Yes but…not today Jethro, you’ve received too much of a shock already. I don’t…don’t push me away again, please?”

Gibbs scrubbed both his hands down his face and rubbed tiredly at the corner of one.

“I need to process this all,” he said and Tony nodded despite the itchy feeling of tears in his eyes as he did so. Breathing in deeply he stepped back.

“Of course. I’ll be in work tomorrow but, if you need me before then…”

“Summon you?” Gibbs said and Tony chuckled a little wetly. Putting his hand to his face he closed it into a fist but extended his pinkie finger and thumb in an imitation of a phone.

“Or call me, some of us angels are in with the times.”

Tony smiled when it had the desired effect of making Jethro laugh, even if it was weakly. Stepping back again he watched Jethro with a look of pure love and understanding before he closed his own eyes when Jethro blinked.

“Tony…” Gibbs looked up but was let with nothing but an empty room. Sitting there for a moment longer Gibbs then fell back into his seat and groaned loudly.

……………………………………………………………….

Gibbs banged loudly on the door in front of him and paced as he waited. He pulled his coat tighter round him and bounced on the balls of his feet until finally the door opened to reveal one groggy looking Abby Sciuto. She rubbed tiredly at her eyes and glared at Gibbs grumpily.

“Unless you have a damn good excuse for waking me up then I’m going to be forced to poke you in the eye,” she said through a yawn and Gibbs smiled as he stepped forwards to place a kiss on her forehead.

“I’m sorry Abby, but I really need your Internet and your diverse mind,” he said and brushed past, smirking a little when Abby mumbled something about a monkey wrench before she closed the door behind them.

“Gibbs, you have GOT to get yourself up to date at home. Where’s your laptop?”

“Left it at work, didn’t think I’d need it tonight.”

“Fine, fine. Coffee I take it is on the books?”

“Yes please, thanks Abby,” Gibbs said absently as he powered up Abby’s computer, smirking at the system she’d installed that made it howl when he did and settled himself down in front of the screen.

He tapped his fingers agitatedly on the desk it sat upon, glancing between the kitchen and the screen until finally he could get a window open for Google.

“Abby,” he said cautiously as she returned with his drink, one for herself also in tow, “You’re very open-minded.”

“I’m not sleeping with you Gibbs,” she teased and Gibbs did smirk a little at that.

“Damn. No, Abby…what’s your policy on…on…” he growled a little and closing his eyes in a resigned manner he bit out, “On angels?”

Abby watched him for a moment before she gently nudged Gibbs to one side so that she was now in front of the screen.

“Which one is it you’re looking for> A Cadmon or a Kahree?”

Gibbs’s jaw almost dropped and Abby grinned wickedly at him.

“Apparently they’re the only two that start out as humans, or so I’m told,” she said continuing before looking at the screen again fingers poised over the keyboard.

“How the hell do you know about them?” he said in an almost angry tone but Abby merely quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Because I kept mine around, she’s fantastic. Of course, you can’t see her, not with her not being yours and all. Apparently she was the one that sent me the nightmares about being on the Autopsy table to stop me from going down there when he was down there. Protecting me in her own quirky way, she reminds me of you.”

Gibbs lowered his forehead to the desk and banged it lightly for a moment before sitting straight again.

“Fine, I suppose that makes things easier with you understanding. I need you to find mine now please.”

“Sure thing Gibbs, do you have their name?”

This time Gibbs did falter, trying to gauge how Abby might take the next piece of news. Okay so she knew about the Angels but what would her reaction be to knowing who Gibbs’s was.

“Yeah, it’s um,” he cleared his throat, “it’s Anthony DiNozzo.”

He watched as Abby’s cup fell to the floor. Wincing as it shattered he looked up again to find Abby wide-mouthed and practically spluttering.

“But, but I can see him! I touch him and I hug him…HUGS! Oh, I said only today that he gives warm hugs! Like he’s…”

“Reaching inside of you,” Gibbs finished and Abby jumped up with an excited yelp.

“He fell didn’t he? Holy Shit! Moira, my Angel, she told stories as a kid about Angels who fell to protect their beloveds!” Suddenly her face changed and it softened as though she’d just seen the cutest thing in the world, “He fell to protect you. That is so beautiful!”

“Not if you knew the whole story,” Gibbs muttered and took a moment to marvel at how such a strange thing had suddenly become a normal conversation between himself and Abby.

“What’d you mean?” she said frowning and sitting down again. Gibbs suddenly felt ashamed and couldn’t explain why as he scrubbed at the back of his neck nervously.

“When I was kid I, well, I mentioned him a lot. Apparently. Anyway, I started getting told off and picked on when I was ten for believing in such things and I, I um…”

“…Please don’t tell me you banished him,” Abby said dangerously and Gibbs closed his eyes.

“Wow, that Moira taught you everything about their culture huh?”

When no answer was forthcoming he made to open his eyes but instead yelped when he received a sharp slap across the back of his head. He opened his eyes in shock and stared at a now furious Abby.

“I can’t believe you banished Tony! Tony of all Angels! And he fell for you, because he loved you and wanted to protect you and you still give him a hard time!”

“It’s not like I knew it was him! And I was a kid, a stupid kid who cared that others took him seriously alright? It was hard, I didn’t know how else to react, I was being bullied for such fanciful things and I reacted the only way I know how Abs. I’m sorry, I am but that’s what happened.”

Gibbs blinked at his own confession and sat backwards. He glared at the screen in front of him, hating the silence surrounding him and told himself not to flinch when Abby tentatively touched his hand.

“Sorry Gibbs,” she said quietly and Gibbs glared for a moment longer before he looked over at Abby. She looked upset and sighing he pulled her into a sideways hug kissing the top of her head in apology.

“What did I say about apologising?” he said trying to filter in some humour. It worked as she giggled faintly.

“That we shouldn’t do it because it admits to doing something wrong.”

“Good girl.”

They squeezed one another tightly for a second then leaned back into their own seats. Abby, suddenly all business, clicked one knuckle and began typing into the search engine.

“One Anthony DiNozzo coming up…or something along those lines, I can’t imagine that DiNozzo was his birth name. Moira told me that the Big Guns upstairs tend to sort out a fake history for these guys when they fall.”

“Except we have no paper trail to follow,” Gibbs said and Abby laughed.

“Well I could always try and hack into heavensgates.com but I highly doubt they’ve purchased any computers up there.”

Gibbs couldn’t help it; he smiled at the image of a group of haloed, winged angels talking to one another on one of those daft chat rooms.

“This could take a while Gibbs, I think you should maybe go home and get some rest for now,” Abby said reasonably whilst still looking at the screen, “Remember I’ve got quite a few history records to look through before I can even begin to hope to find anything out.”

“Abby you don’t need to do this for me, I was grateful enough that you’re lending me the computer for the night.”

Abby looked at him then in a ‘don’t argue with me’ kind of way and rolled her eyes.

“Trust me, this won’t be chore. Go, sleep. I’ll report as soon as I have something. And make up with Tony,” she added as an afterthought that had Gibbs rolling his eyes this time whilst he stood.

“Alright, alright. You win, as always.”

On a spur of the moment Abby stood and threw her arms around him. A little stunned he returned the gesture and patted her head awkwardly.

“I’m glad someone else knows about them,” her muffled voice said and Gibbs smiled as he hugged her closer.

“Me too,” he said quietly.

……………………………………………………………

Tony finished typing the last paragraph of his report before, with a flamboyant gesture, he pressed in the final full stop and smiled over at Kate who rolled her eyes at him.

“Congratulations Tony, you actually completed a report. Give yourself a pat on the back,” she said with a smirk and it was with great restraint that Tony resisted sticking his tongue out at her.

“You know, you act like I do nothing around here but would Gibbs keep me around if I was actually that useless?” he asked, actually curious to her answer when said man walked in. Tony couldn’t help the way his heart pumped harder and he quickly leaned into his seat properly.

Gibbs, cradling a coffee in one hand, caught his eye and for a moment the intense gaze captured Tony. He still had no idea how Gibbs was handling everything (‘Was it really only the night before?’) but either way that fact that the man could look at him had to be positive on some aspect.

“Morning Boss,” he said hesitantly and he watched as Gibbs slowed a little, licked his lips and then all of a sudden Tony could hear a familiar voice in his head.

’Can you still hear me when I think?

Biting his lip Tony gave the smallest nod. Gibbs looked off to a point over Tony’s shoulder and then another sentence curled into Tony’s mind.

’Can you…not, whilst we’re at work?

It was so hesitant, shy almost that Tony smiled a little sadly. How foolish a man, to think that Tony would be upset because Jethro wanted to keep his private thoughts, well, private.

’Like you need to ask.’ he thought in return and watched as Gibbs visibly relaxed.

’Thanks.’

Gibbs then carried on to his seat and settled in ignoring Kate’s confused look and Tony’s curious one. All three of them jumped (although Gibbs was more discrete about it) when Gibbs’s phone went off and with a quick movement he grabbed it.

“Gibbs.”

He was silent, clearly listening for a moment before he nodded.

“On my way Abby.”

Hanging up he moved back round his desk and headed towards the lifts to get to the lab.

“Abby has some leads for me on a cold case, I want both your reports on my desk when I get back, and check them people.”

With that said he was gone again leaving two very confused agents in his wake, although both confused for entirely different matters.

…………………………………………………………….

“Abby,” Gibbs said as he stepped into the lab but skidded to a stop at the sight before him. Abby was quickly dabbing at her eyes, clearly trying to hide the fact that she’d been crying from Gibbs and sniffed loudly as a result. Striding forwards Gibbs grabbed her by the shoulders.

“Abs, what’s wrong?” he asked frantically and Abby laughed in a pitying sort of way as she waved away his concern.

“It’s nothing, sorry. I found Tony, how he originally died and everything. Just makes me sad thinking about it. S’nothing.”

Gibbs could feel a curl of anxiety in his gut now and he quickly tugged a stool that was behind him forwards with his foot to sit on it. He rubbed at Abby’s shoulders comfortingly for a moment then pulled her gaze up to his.

“What’d you find Abby?”

Rubbing one last time at her eyes Abby moved the screen so they could both see it. Gibbs stared at it for a moment before glancing back at Abby, silently asking her to state what she’d found.

“Turns out Anthony Pariseau died on March 17th 1916 during the First World War. He was one of the hundreds who died when called to go over the side of the trench walls into certain death,” Abby sniffed again and wiped at her eyes whilst Gibbs felt his gut clench tightly.

“Oh Tony,” he whispered and watched as Abby opened another window. It was this though that caught his eye as he stared at the screen in numb shock. The image was clearly a scan of a very old picture and there, in faded black and white was Anthony DiNozzo, or as the picture’s blurb said, Brigadier General Anthony Pariseau.

“I can’t believe he was a Brigadier,” Abby said with a fond smile and looked at Gibbs, “Surely that would mean he should know as much as you?”

“Different times,” Gibbs said reasonably, “He said he fell after I rejected him and before that he was protecting me so I doubt he had time to immerse himself into how the rankings worked today. And lets not forget, he died in a War…”

“Must be tired of fighting,” Abby finished and nodded.

Gibbs nodded as well but remained staring at the photo. His heart ached with all the new knowledge he was receiving. He ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes, trying to imagine what it must’ve been like and inwardly groaned at the times he’d looked down at Tony, assuming he couldn’t begin to know what it was like being a fighting soldier.

Turns out he did know, he’d died knowing.

“Where’s he buried Abs?” he asked quietly and Abby twisted her lips slightly in thought.

“There’s no record of his ‘official’ burying, which means he’s more than likely one of the 368 soldiers buried in the Flanders Fields.”

“This is insane,” Gibbs said burying his face into his hands, “We’re talking about him as though he’s dead, which he is kind of, but he’s not because he’d winding Kate up back in the Bullpen.”

“You’re trying to think too logically Gibbs. Just…do you want him around? As more than just your subordinate now? Because I know you too have the hots for one another…”

“Whoa, hang on. What?” Gibbs said pulling his face back up and Abby smiled in a smug manner.

“Don’t even try and deny it, sometimes it gets really boring down here and you learn to observe people for fun. You two have been dancing around one another for years, although now I’m beginning to think Tony doesn’t just fancy you. He genuinely loves you, Hell he fell for you!”

“Abby…”

“Gibbs, you can live in denial all you like but you have a chance to have something no one else does! You can love someone who won’t die before you, who genuinely will be with you to the end and oh, bonus, happens to be your own personal Kahree…”

“Kendreague,” Gibbs corrected automatically making Abby grin wider.

“And lets face it, you can’t complain and say he’s too young for you because technically you’re too young for him! He’s,” she stopped and did a quick sum in her head before she started laughing hard, “He’s 67 years older than you!”

Gibbs’s eyes widened before a huff of disbelieving laughter escaped him.

“This is fucked up.”

“Tony is 121 years old and still has the body of a 30 year old! Fantastic! Oh Gibbs, you’ve got to give this a chance, please!”

“Abby…”

“Gibbs, look, talk to him tonight and then come in and tell me you don’t feel the same way. And then tell me that some part of you isn’t completely in love with the fact that he, in every sense of the word, belongs to and with you. Because its not often I get to call you a great dirty liar and that’s what you’d be.”

Shaking his head Gibbs fell back into his seat with his eyes closed and with so many thoughts of trenches, Soldiers, Angels and Tony swimming around in his head. Opening his eyes he stared at the ceiling above him before he made a quick decision.

”Tony? he thought quietly and flushed slightly feeling like an idiot at ‘speaking through minds’.

There was silence for a moment before there came a tentative response.

“Yes Jethro?”

”Come round tonight, you and I need to talk.

If he was on a phone this would be where he’d hang up but he wasn’t actually sure how one ‘hung up’ a telepathic conversation. He frowned for a moment before giving the smallest smile at the sound of Tony laughing in his head.

”Oh shut up.

………………………………………………………………………

Gibbs linked and unlinked his fingers as he stared at his front door waiting. One of his knees bounced nervously as he did so before he growled and attempted to control it. Scrubbing his hand over his face he glanced around his living room again and had a moment to wonder at the fact he was worrying about what Tony thought of his house. It wasn’t like he’d never been there before, but this time Gibbs was acutely aware of the fact that Tony was something more than he was, say, last week.

When a knock sounded he jumped up but restrained himself enough to walk calmly to the door where he pulled it open. Tony was stood there looking just as nervous as he was and he couldn’t help smiling at the ridiculous new caution in their relationship.

“You couldn’t have just, uh, appeared in my living room?” he said, mildly teasing and Tony smiled in return. His wary offer had been accepted.

“Thought it would be politer to knock, plus you might’ve shot me if I’d surprised you.”

“Probably,” Gibbs said stepping aside and when Tony walked past him he shut the door, not turning yet but talking towards the door as he addressed Tony.

“Why didn’t you keep the name Pariseau?” he said and felt a shift in the air as Tony turned clearly unsurprised at Gibbs’s question.

“I take it you looked me up then,” he said quietly and Gibbs did turn then with a curt nod.

“Abby helped, turns out she wasn’t as stupid as I was when I was a kid and kept her…what was the females one again?” he asked sheepishly and Tony laughed a little.

“Kariads, and that would be Moira then?”

“You can see them too?” Gibbs asked genuinely curious and failed to notice how he’d instinctively stepped closer to Tony.

“Yep.”

“Oh, right.”

“Is that all you wanted to ask?” Tony said quietly and Gibbs, suddenly feeling a little shy (and when was the last time that had happened?), shoved his hands into his pockets with a shrug.

“I have too many questions in a way. Like why aren’t your wings on show? Why’d you stay with me after what I said? What was it like in the trenches? Were you scared? What was it like dying? What was it like coming back? Why…”

Gibbs inhaled shakily and this time looked directly at Tony before he took a step forwards. He opened his mouth but nothing came out at first so instead he raised his hand and cupped Tony’s cheek, surprising them both. Tony closed his eyes in pure enrapture, sighing heavily and biting his lip at the touch.

Gibbs could feel the heat travelling up though his hand and felt Tony’s emotions moving with it; contentment, heartbreaking happiness, pure undiluted bliss. All because of his touch, a willing caress from a man that used to be the boy that an angel adored. He felt the guilt swamp through him again as he realised how much it had hurt His Angel when he rejected him all those years ago.

“…Why do you love me so much?” he whispered and moved in to be closer. Tony’s eyes opened at that point to look at him in genuine confusion. He shook his head minutely, not enough to dislodge the hand still cupping his cheek and he brought his own up to hold it in place.

“Because you’re Jethro,” he said in a tone, which clearly stated that that was reason enough.

Gibbs felt his eyes narrow slightly in an effort to control any escaping emotion that might show through them but knew it was futile. No one, not one of his wives except for Shannon had loved him so unconditionally and in many ways it was a shock to his soul.

His grip tightened and deciding to follow instinct rather than what was proper he pulled Tony forwards until he had him wrapped up tightly in arms. He smiled shakily when he felt familiar arms encase him tightly, holding him close and he chuckled brokenly when he felt the same deep affection and protectiveness that came from Tony the same as it had the very first time he’d ever touched him.

They stayed like that, both refusing to let go and Gibbs didn’t even pull back when he felt a wetness on his cheeks from where Tony had his pressed against him. He did feel his heart clench though the same way it had always done in the past when he’d made His Angel cry.

“Hug me like you used to,” he whispered and after a moment chuckled delightedly when he could feel a pair of wings wrap around him. He rubbed his cheek up and down, before he threw caution to the end and nuzzled his face into the side of Tony’s neck.

“I take it back, what I said then, stay.”

His whispered command was followed by a shudder of Tony’s shoulders in what was probably a silent sob. He felt the same emotion that flowed through Tony suddenly engulf him and he smiled.

Completion.

Yeah, that pretty much summed it up. Completion. Because that ache he always felt every year, that hopelessness as he tried to remember what was missing was gone. Nothing was missing, it was here in his arms and breathing in deeply he pulled back to fully take in Tony’s tear-stained smiling face.

He reached up and carefully wiped away any remaining tears that clung to Tony’s face and found himself a moment later staring at Tony’s lips. He found he just couldn’t take his eyes off them and instead he closed his eyes as he leaned forwards.

His lips landed on Tony’s pliant and currently unmoving ones but he didn’t care, simply pressed closer until finally he felt a pressure in return. It was almost chaste in a way, close-mouthed but still passionate as they kissed lightly. He could hear Tony’s shaky breaths inbetween every second long break as they moved to another angle, coming forwards again and again but always pressed closely together as they did. Some part of him was screaming inside, wondering what the hell he was doing, that he was going to ruin everything but he ignored it and finally tilted his head in a way that suggested he wanted to deepen the kiss.

The tip of his tongue was met with Tony’s own and he faintly groaned as they simply touched, twisting gently around one another before they both opened their mouths and moved to be more intimately locked. Tony’s tongue massaged his own and he returned the favour as they traded dominance back and forth until they gently separated, eyes opening and lips an inch away from one another as they breathed heavily.

Tony’s hand reached up to cup his cheek and Gibbs couldn’t help smiling. Tony returned it and out of the corner of his eye Gibbs saw something move. Glancing over he blanched before he felt one side of his mouth turn up. He’d forgotten he’d told Tony to ‘hug him like he used to’.

The white wings were as magnificent as ever but there were some grey wings here and there that caught his attention. He reached up to stroke the closest one and smirked when the entire wing quivered at the touch.

“I don’t remember these, I remember them being all white,” he said and Tony looked at them too.

“Getting old,” he said in answer and Gibbs looked back to his face.

“Yeah, we did the math today, me and Abby…And here I thought I was getting on.”

Tony laughed and cringed slightly.

“Looking good for a man two decades over a century old huh?” he said and Gibbs closed his eyes as he laughed, shaking his head slightly as he did.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that. Or the fact that you were a Brigadier…it’s too weird.”

“Then think of me as Tony DiNozzo. It is who I am now even if it wasn’t who I was first. Trust me, you try and think logically about this and you’ll get all kinds of turned around.”

“Sure thing grandpa.”

Tony laughed and on a spur of the moment pulled Gibbs close again hugging him tightly with arms and wings. Gibbs basked in it, one hand wrapping around Tony’s waist and the other stroking over the brilliant wing wrapped around him. When he pulled back again he placed another chaste kiss on Tony’s lips. Tony watched him carefully before he cradled Gibbs face in both hands.

“Do you know what you’re asking for?” he said quietly and ran his thumbs soothingly over Gibbs’s cheekbones, “ I already love you with everything in me, and that’s a lot. Can you handle that?”

Gibbs stepped back and took in the entirety of his Tony, his Angel. Tony stood there with his arms at his side, wings stretched partially out and was watching him silently as Gibbs came to his own conclusion.

Could he give as much as Tony was? Probably not, these Kahrees were created to love, were made from it and probably had endless supplies of it coursing through them. But…he would give Tony as much as he carried inside of him, human maybe but even he could love endlessly. Even if it didn’t match Tony’s he would give everything he had.

Smiling he nodded and moved back into the long missed embrace. He pulled Tony into another consuming kiss and they stayed there for what felt like hours, pressed closely together and simply being.

…………………………………………………………….

Gibbs was spread out on his bed on his back, arms tucked under his head and still fully clothed as he calmly regarded Tony who sat cross-legged beside him with his wings still out. He would every now and again move one so that it ran down the length of Gibbs’s body and Gibbs always bit the inside of his cheek when it tickled over his sides.

“Still ticklish then,” Tony teased and shuffled around until, with a cheeky grin, he was straddled over Gibbs’s hips.

“Try it and I’ll show you how much bigger I’ve gotten,” Gibbs growled and Tony chuckled. He rested his hands on Gibbs’s chest; fingers splayed and watched them quietly. As a result Gibbs could feel that oh so desired warmth flow through him and smiled when he pulled one hand from behind his head and placed it over one of Tony’s, fingers gently massaging.

Tony moved his gaze to Gibbs’s face and smiled at him. He stretched out his wings, the great length of them almost touching from wall to wall as they did so before he curled them back in. He dropped them a little until the tips rested on the bed lazily and the entire time Gibbs hadn’t taken his eyes off them.

He reached one hand up to stroke Tony’s wing, the downy feathers sliding in between his fingers as he moved his hand downwards and then ran just his fingertips in aimless patterns over the powerful limb. He shifted his gaze when he felt Tony’s shuddery gasp and found the angel with his eyes closed, wet lips parted slightly and, deciding to experiment he lightened the touch to a tease. As a result Tony’s hips jerked quickly before he settled again.

“Sensitive?” he asked gruffly and still with his eyes closed Tony nodded.

“But I touched your wings as a child, you never acted like this.”

“Different dynamic. As a child I loved you like one, like a brother would his younger brother. But I wasn’t with you throughout your teenage years Gibbs, Mercy I wanted to be but you were too angry, would’ve known I was there. So I waited until your memory of me wasn’t as strong but by that point you were a man…”

Tony opened his eyes and looked down at Gibbs making him shudder at what he saw there: Love and lust, heat for him and desire.

“…And what a man,” Tony finished with a small smirk, “I still loved you but…By God, you were beautiful.”

Gibbs flushed at the breathed out words but kept his eyes on Tony’s as the man continued.

“The thing is with falling is that you begin to feel like a human does: Hunger, thirst, pain…”

“Lust,” Gibbs finished croakily and Tony nodded.

“Is that okay?” Tony said after a moment and Gibbs laughed lightly as he tugged him down to kiss him again.

“I’m sure I’ll get over it,” he teased before kissing him again. Licking at the seams of Tony’s lips he moved his hands down over Tony’s spine until he came to the man’s jeans (and wasn’t that a strange thing to consider? Angels wearing Levis) and tucked his hands down into the back pockets. He added pressure until finally his and Tony’s hips were pressed tightly together. They very gently rocked together, soothingly almost and continued to kiss as Gibbs kept pressing down.

The only time he’d ever explored anything sexual with another man was during his younger days in the Marines. Even then it was a quick hand-job or more, never a relationship and as he thought this he jerked his head back not to discourage but to quirk an eyebrow quizzically at Tony.

“Two men? Doesn’t God disapprove?” and it was weird enough talking about God as though he might sit down with a drink with his angels to discuss humanity. The image caused him to smile fleetingly as Tony chuckled.

“He calls it Free Will for a reason you know.”

“What’s he like?” Gibbs asked and rolling his eyes Tony groaned as he moved his lips to Gibbs’s neck trailing soft kisses down the length of it.

“He has a great sense of humour,” he said in a muffled voice and Gibbs laughed.

“What makes you say that?”

“Have you seen the platypus?”

Gibbs laughed loudly and moved his hips up again when Tony nipped at his collarbone. Moving down Tony carefully undid Gibbs’s shirt, kissing as he went even though Gibbs was still chortling away and Tony couldn’t help smiling against his lover’s chest. A thought suddenly struck him and looking up he asked tentatively, “Do you want me to put my wings away?”

“God no,” Gibbs said and pulled Tony back up to start undressing him. They stripped reasonably quickly, kissing any newly revealed flesh until finally they were kissing furtively, naked bodies pressed together and encased within two wings. Gibbs, lips still attached to Tony’s, sat up until he was cross-legged with Tony in his lap. The position meant they were pressed closely together and Tony could wrap them both up with his wings.

“Need protection?” Gibbs asked breathlessly and Tony shook his head.

“I can’t catch anything and you’re clean. Trust me, I know.”

“Ready?” Gibbs said after a moment and with eyes locked they rocked until Gibbs finally thrust up, Tony’s mouth dropping open as it did and closing his eyes as he was filled. His hands gripped Jethro’s shoulders tightly and his wings trembled violently as he arched. Gibbs himself groaned through gritted teeth and wrapped one arm around Tony’s waist and the other pressed straight against Tony’s spine with his hand inbetween his shoulder blades.

They were moving hard and fast now, Tony capturing Jethro’s lips again in a fierce kiss before pulling back, lips resting comfortably together before Tony started humming brokenly. Gibbs moaned and pulled him closer as Tony licked at his dry lips and began to whisper the song he’d sung all those years ago with a throaty, husky voice.

“I am stretched o…on your grave, And I'll…I’ll lie here forever,”

His fingers tightened on Jethro’s back again and he whimpered for a moment before gritting out the next sentence.

“If your hands were in mine, I'd be sure…”he moaned before continuing in a hoarser tone, “…they would not sever . My apple tree, my brightness, its time we were together.”

He gave up after that and hummed in a shaky manner, moving harder against his lover’s thrusts and Gibbs couldn’t resist running his hands up to rest them on the shoulder blades of the powerful wings now stretched out and shaking almost uncontrollably.

“Jethro,” he whispered and cut off a great yell before it could escape. In return Gibbs kissed the underside of Tony’s jaw.

“My debauched angel,” he muttered and something about the way he said it obviously got to Tony because with a great yell and shudder he found completion, his wings curling in and then flying out just as fast causing various objects such as picture frames and books to be knocked off their shelves and dressers when they connected. Gibbs laughed delightfully at the noise of the room being trashed by the brilliant white wings and threw his head back as he climaxed.

Both moaned tiredly and Gibbs fell backwards bringing Tony with him so that the limp angel was sprawled on top of his body, arms and wings motionless as he melted quite contently against Gibbs’s chest.

“I think I just died,” Tony mumbled and Gibbs laughed again as he ran his hand through Tony’s sweat soaked hair.

“Lets hope not otherwise I’m screwed.”

Tony let out a breathless puff of a laugh before he groaned, pushed himself up enough to collapse on his front next to Jethro. Gibbs in turn rolled over so he had his hand resting on the small of Tony’s back and his head buried in the space between Tony’s neck and shoulder.

Clearly using up all the energy he had Tony lifted one arm and one wing to drape it over Gibbs’s body, pulling him in closer until he was safely encased against his side.

“Angel?”

Tony felt a pleasurable shudder run down his spine at the old name and opened his eyes to find Jethro’s blue ones only inches from his own.

“Yes my Jethro?”

“…If I tell you to go away because I’m pissed off again, ignore me. That’s an order.”

Silently Tony reached up his hand to cup Jethro’s face and pulled him closer until he could place a chaste kiss on the silver-haired man’s forehead.

“Yes Boss.”

Relief running through him Jethro smiled and after one final kiss he moved forwards until he could hardly tell where he finished and where Tony began. He listened until Tony’s breathing evened out before he opened his eyes to watch over his new lover, his old friend and his forever beloved.

Finite

AN: Wow that took all day but was so enjoyable I simply couldn’t stop. Now I can go and submerse myself in the NCIS Boxset I got through the post just this morning, wohoo! Thanks for all your comments from part one!

The Angels series

2006-07-25T21:17:38Z

Think I might make a series out of this concept after I've finished 'Lullaby'. Do something from each series that I read and see how it goes. Okay well here goes, the NCIS adaption with the angel concept.

Title: Kendreague
Genre: Angst/Romance/supernatural (NOT the TV series)
Rating: R
Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo
Disclaimer: None of the CBS characters of NCIS belong to me and I'm making no money from this.
Summary: "If your hands were in mine, I'd be sure they would not sever, My apple tree, my brightness, its time we were together." Part 1/2

Kendreague

1955 17th March

Leroy Jethro Gibbs swung his small legs mindlessly as he dangled them from his place on the rickety swing in the back garden. He was dressed in a black suit with a white shirt along with a black tie and he tugged at it again. He hated wearing it but his momma said he had to, that it was a sign of respect to his daddy.

He felt his heart clench just at the thought of his daddy. ‘Asleep,’ his momma said, ‘asleep and that he can’t come back.’ The fact she’d had glistening eyes and pain etched into her face told him everything.

His daddy was dead.

He may be four years old but he wasn’t stupid. He knew a little about death, how when someone good died they went to Heaven and when someone bad died then they went to Hell. And he knew with complete certainty that his daddy was in Heaven.

He wondered if wishing his daddy was with him rather than in Heaven made him a bad person.

His heart thudded against his chest painfully and he scrunched up his face trying to hold back the tears. Tough boys didn’t cry, they didn’t. He wasn’t a sissy.

“Crying doesn’t make you a sissy.”

Jethro gasped and opened his eyes again. His jaw dropped at what he saw when he did.

There was a man crouching down in front of him as he remained seated on the swing. He was dressed head to toe in black, black sweater, trousers and trench coat. But what really caught Jethro’s attention, what had him mouthing silently in shock were the large white wings protruding from the man’s back. They were folded in a comfortable manner but moved every now and again in lazy twitches, similar to how one would flex their fingers.

When he managed to pull his eyes away from the magnificent feathers he then took in the handsome features of the stranger. Hazel eyes twinkled with spots of green and dim gold as they regarded Jethro, brown hair shifting slightly with the wind blowing through it. The stranger had a kind smile and it was this that quelled any more negative thoughts from Jethro.

“You’re an angel,” he said in a matter-of-fact way that only children seemed to be able to pull off. It caused the stranger to chuckle and Jethro felt warm at the sound.

“I am,” the angel said clearly amused.

Jethro cocked his head to one side as he jumped down from the swing. He moved slowly forwards until he was standing close to the angel.

“I thought angels only came for you when you died? That’s what Grandma said…am I dead? Will I see dad again?”

He didn’t know how but Jethro could feel the air around him and the angel become a little colder, a little sadder and he dropped his head. He didn’t need the angel to answer, that feeling was enough.

When he felt a hand on his cheek however he looked up again. The touch was warm and he couldn’t resist leaning into it with a sense of deep affection and protectiveness washing through him.

“Not today,” was the quiet answer and he nodded solemnly. Ducking his head again he scrubbed at his eyes angrily but his hand was removed and placed back at his side.

“You can cry Jethro, I won’t tell anyone.”

Looking up again he found the angel smiling at him and he managed to hold on for a couple of seconds before his face crumpled again and a sob escaped him. He followed unquestionably when a pair of hands pulled him in and he was encased in a hug, arms and wings surrounding him as he cried quietly.

He didn’t cry out or scream but he curled further into the warm embrace and whimpered every now and again as tears continued to fall. He became vaguely aware of music reaching his ears and he turned his tear-stained face up to find the angel smiling gently down at him, singing softly as he continued to stroke Jethro’s hair.

“I am stretched on your grave, and I'll lie here forever
If your hands were in mine, I'd be sure they would not sever,”

Jethro could feel his body relaxing at the soft words even though he couldn’t really focus on them.

“My apple tree, my brightness, its time we were together
For I smell by the Earth, and I'm worn by the weather.”

The angel’s arms tightened around him as though in answer to his new found trust in the stranger.

“When my family think, that I'm safely in my bed
Oh, from morn until night, I am stretched out at your head.”

The angel seemed to realise it was the tune more than the words that relaxed the boy in his arms and so continued the haunting tune by merely humming it. He slowly began to rock back and forth whilst continuing with his smooth strokes through Jethro’s hair.

They may have been there minutes, maybe hours but either way it felt like an eternity later when Jethro managed to pull back a little so he was face to face with his angel. And he was his, regardless of whether he had to return to…wherever he came from, Heaven probably. That’s where his Grandma said they came from.

His tiny hand settled on the angel’s cheek and he watched as the angel smiled at the gesture. He then slipped his arms around the angel’s neck and hugged him tightly.

“Are you going to go away too?” he whispered and he felt the angel chuckle.

“I’m with you until you don’t want me anymore,” came the soft response and Jethro managed to smile brightly at that.

“Forever.”

The angel, amused, smirked and nodded.

“Forever it is then.”

Jethro giggled before he cocked his head as another thought struck him.

“What’s your name?”

Smiling the angel tapped his nose once.

“I’m…”

…………………………………………………………….

1957 17th March

Jethro crouched low hidden behind the bushes. He peeked over the top carefully and when he deemed it safe he charged out, rolled and hid behind another bush. He kept a tight hold on his wooden sword and pulled it close to him as he darted for more cover. Motionless he listened for any kind of movement but was met with only silence.

Deciding to risk it he ever so slowly peeked around the tree he’d taken cover behind.

He jumped a mile when he was met with a grinning face and yelped as he fell backwards. The man laughed and helped him stand, grinning even wider when Jethro frowned at him.

“That was mean My Angel!”

Chuckling the angle ruffled his hair affectionately. Laughing Jethro dodged away but found himself encased in arms and wings shrieking with more laughter when hands started tickling him.

“I told you, you can’t outdo an angel,” the angel said over his loud yelps of hysterics and even joined in after a moment.

“I can outdo anything, I’m a Gibbs!”

“Oh is that right? Well get out of this without moving,” the angel challenged and Jethro froze confused.

“…I can’t do that, I need to move.”

The angel smirked again and squeezed the boy lightly.

“I can, I don’t even have to flinch,” he said smugly causing Jethro to roll his eyes.

“You’re an angel,” he said obviously and sighed as he struggled. Soon though the tickling fingers were back and he was laughing once more.

“Ah is that your excuse is it?”

“Yes, leggo!” Jethro cried but was soon shrieking again in delight. He yelled happily when he was suddenly thrown into the air and caught in protective arms.

“Always catch you,” the angel said softly and Jethro smiled at him whilst rubbing mud off his face from their games.

“I know.”

“Good,” angel said again and chuckled as he once again twirled the boy.

…………………………………………………………………….

1961 17th March

Jethro curled his arms around his legs as he sat on his bed in the dark bedroom. He could feel tears prickling at his eyes but he refused to let them fall. He was ten now, he had to be more grown up. Crying was for girls and he wasn’t a girl. He wasn’t a baby either and he’d prove it to Simon Franks tomorrow.

“You shouldn’t think things like that.”

Jethro jerked but refused to look round at his…no…he just refused to look.

“Jethro?”

“Go ‘way,” he said sharply and he winced internally when he felt the room shift. That happened sometimes when the ‘thing’ was shocked.

“Thing? Jethro?”

When he caught movement out of the corner of his eye he quickly closed them knowing that ‘it’ was moving into his line of sight. He buried his face into his arms and clapped his hands over his ears.

‘Jethro please, what’s wrong?’

The same voice was in his head now and he growled as he pushed his hands harder against his ears.

“Go away!” he said again, louder this time.

When he felt a hand reach for him, when it settled into his hair and stroked it back he wanted to cry at the gentle warmth that filled him. He jerked back and came face to face with the ‘thing’ in his bedroom.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” he cried and tried not to cry out when ‘it’ pulled its hand back in shock.

“Jethro, what’s wrong?” it said urgently and made to move closer but something inside of Jethro finally snapped and he stood up on his bed. The ‘thing’ stood too and Jethro quivered at the height it still had on him but refused to back down. His hands balled into tight fists and finally finding his voice he started yelling.

“YOU’RE NOT REAL! YOU’RE NOT!”

‘It’ reeled back as though it had been slapped and some part of Jethro was crying out to him, holding his arms out to hugged all over again but he quickly crushed it angrily with his ‘big boy’ voice.

“EVERYONE SAYS I SHOULD GROW UP, THAT YOU’RE NOT REAL! THEY SAY I’M NOTHING BUT A BABY FOR HAVING AN INVISIBLE FRIEND BUT I’M NOT! I’M NOT!”

‘It’ was frozen as he watched Jethro. Angrily Jethro picked up a pillow and hurled it at the ‘thing’ growling when the object went right through the it.

“Jethro…please…” a hand reached forwards and inside Jethro was crying at the tear now making a track down that handsome face instead he just screamed out angrily and slapped the reaching hand away.

“I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU! GO AWAY, I DON’T NEED YOU ANYMORE! GO AWAY!”

His voice broke on the last word and he collapsed onto his bed sobbing. He curled up again, hating the fact he was doing a ‘childish’ thing but curled even tighter all the same. He flinched when a gentle kiss touched the crown of his head and he determinedly ignored the little droplets of tears that fell into his hair.

“I never meant to hurt you Jethro.”

And just like that the room went cold. Staying how he was for a moment longer Jethro then uncurled to find himself alone. But there was something noticeably different as he placed a hand to his chest in confusion. Usually he could feel something like a warm hug in his chest, he didn’t know how else to describe it. But panicking he ran his hands all over his chest and he sobbed silently when he couldn’t find it.

Shaking he dropped his head back letting the tears finally come.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. Come back,” he whispered brokenly but when nothing happened he curled in on himself once more.

………………………………………………………………………….

2005 17th March

Tony ducked when an empty polystyrene cup flew past him and was accompanied by a growl coming from his boss’s desk.

“And a good morning to you too Sir,” he said lightly and smirked when he was rewarded with a glare from the silver haired man.

“Unless you have something worth hearing DiNozzo then I really don’t want to hear a peep from you,” he threatened lowly but Tony merely placed his things down and strolled towards Kate’s desk where he placed a fat ugly looking toy resembling a cherub. Gibbs wasn’t even going to pretend to understand what pissing game DiNozzo and Kate had going on.

“I always have something worth hearing Boss, you just aren’t always that interested in it,” Tony said smugly but quickly darted back to his desk when another glare was fired his way. He resisted the urge to snigger: Gibbs may be one scary bastard but he couldn’t deny it could be fun to wind him up every now and again. That man was hot when he was pissed.

“Just get me those files I asked you to look for yesterday,” he heard Gibbs mutter and Tony managed a sloppy salute as he powered up his computer.

“Yes Sir.”

The minute he knew Gibbs was back looking at his computer screen he looked up from under his eyelashes at the man. There was a pinched look to Gibbs’s face and he looked like he was remembering a past hurt but Tony was pretty certain that should he ask he’d be greeted with nothing more than a snarled command to mind his own business.

Twisting his lips in thought he noticed something absent from Gibbs’s desk and like a light bulb going on over his head he stood and headed out of the room with the feeling of Gibbs’s eyes on his back. It took no more than five minutes but he returned carefully a moment later with his tongue between his teeth as he concentrated on his footsteps.

Once back in the bullpen he headed for the older man’s desk and carefully placed the mug of coffee down trying not to flush when he realised Gibbs hadn’t taken his eyes off him the entire time. Ignoring the look he headed back to his own desk and set to work once more.

The air surrounding his boss seemed softer after that. He wasn’t sure but he thought he heard Gibbs mutter his gratitude but that could’ve been his imagination.

He may not know what was wrong with his boss but at least he could offer that small bit of comfort.

………………………………………………………………

“Abby, my darling, my sweet!”

Tony laughed when Abby jumped up with an excitable grin and hugged him tightly. He lifted her a little and kissed her forehead gently before placing her down again.

“Any reason why you hugged me?” he asked in amusement and she shrugged with a grin.

“Your hugs are always warm,” she said as though it answered everything and he supposed that in a way it did. Together they headed back to her workspace and he leaned over her shoulder as he watched her work.

“How’re the bullets doing?” he asked as he alternated his gaze from her nimble hands hard at work and the large screen above them running a match to the gun used.

“Ducky just sent over the one he got from our dead guy so unfortunately I haven’t got a comparison yet. However I can tell you that our first bullet came from another case about six years ago involving two Marines shot in their beds. There was speculation that they may have been lovers making it a possible hate crime but it was unsolved.”

Tony shook his head at that piece of information and leaned back out of Abby’s personal space again.

“Mustn’t have been one of ours then, we would’ve caught the son of a bitch,” he stated and Abby giggled as she shook her head.

“Your unwavering belief in our Boss man never ceases to amaze me Tony, it’s kind of sweet actually considering how much you pine for the guy,” she nudged him with her elbow as she said her piece and Tony swatted her arm away irritably.

“I told you that secret for you to keep it like that: a secret! And I don’t pine, I…admire from a distance.”

“Pine.”

“…Yes alright but can’t you think of something a little more masculine than ‘pine’.”

She grinned and patted his hand reassuringly.

“Lust?”

“Yeah, that’ll do,” he said returning the grin before leaning in again. “Speaking of Gibbs, you wouldn’t happen to know what’s wrong with him would you? He seems…”

“Pissed?”

“No, more upset. There’s a difference. Pissed means he just snaps at everyone and makes the higher ups piss their pants. It’s more like he’s hurting about something and, well, let’s face it, he isn’t going to let me help anytime soon.”

Abby patted Tony’s hand again this time in genuine pity. She knew it hurt Tony everytime Gibbs snubbed the younger man’s words or attention and she hated the flicker of hurt that flashed in the green eyes when she was present to see it happen but Tony seemed to be able to live with it and so she chose not to crowd him with her worry.

“What’s the date?” she asked after a moment and Tony hesitated for a moment.

“March 17th,” he said quietly and Abby watched him carefully for a moment. She could see a flicker of recognition when the man recited the date but it was gone a moment later and he was watching her curiously once more.

“Well,” she said stretching the word out reluctantly. She tapped her fingers indecisively on the table before coming to a conclusion. She made to open her mouth but was cut off when Tony leaned back and started heading towards the door.

“You know what Abs, its cool. I think I just realised something. Catch you later,” and he was gone.

Abby stared at the door a minute longer before her eyebrows shot up.

“Okay, that was a little weird.”

…………………………………………………………………….

Gibbs rubbed at his eyes tiredly before resorting to pressing the heels of his palms into them instead, leaning back in his chair as he did so and releasing a heavy sigh. Moving them to slide back through his hair he sighed heavily before leaning back in to look at his computer, the report he was writing glaring at him.

He really hated this day.

Groaning he made to stand and go get himself some more coffee having already finished the one Tony had, out of the blue, brought him. A gesture that touched Gibbs more than he was willing to admit.

As he did though Tony himself came round the corner and they bumped lightly. A shock of warmth ran through him and Gibbs froze as he simply absorbed it. Tony however quickly held up one hand as he continued on his hurried way.

“Sorry Boss.”

Gibbs was still standing stock still, his shoulder tingling pleasantly and he turned to watch as Tony disappeared around the corner again, stunned. Mindlessly he reached up to rub at his shoulder before softly whispering, “No problem.”

……………………………………………………………

Thankfully the day ended reasonably calmly and Gibbs all but fled. He could still feel that comforting warmth running throughout his body from where Tony had bumped into him and it was driving him mad. He’d felt it before but for the life of him he couldn’t remember where. It was driving him insane and he mentally clawed at the feeling trying to keep it within him.

He’d started off the day filled with remorse. The anniversary of his father’s funeral but it wasn’t that that caused his heart to ache this time every year. No it was something else, something from his childhood that hovered at the edge of his memories but never really came clearly to mind. It drove him mad every year as he tried to recall why he always felt such a loss inside and he had a feeling it wasn’t entirely about his father. He’d been four years old, he’d barely remembered the man, as bad as that sounded.

It felt like he’d lost a friend, a loved one and a comrade. He couldn’t explain it, never had been able to explain it but he knew that, when he really sunk deep and fell into the mind of his child self, that it caused horrendous heartache. He always hoped on every anniversary that that would be the year he remembered. That way he could make things right with whatever was wrong and he wouldn’t hurt quite as much.

Sighing heavily he made to fall into his sofa but instead decided to grab a beer. Standing straight once more he headed towards the kitchen when there was a knock on his door. Growling he ignored it and continued on his way to the fridge. Another knock sounded and Gibbs mumbled something less than polite but simply kicked the fridge door closed behind him whilst twisting off the lid of his beer. Thankfully there wasn’t another knock and letting out a relieved breath he made his way into the living room.

Being a Marine was probably the only thing that stopped him from outwardly jumping when he came face to face with one Tony DiNozzo. One nervous looking Tony DiNozzo. One deservedly nervous looking Tony DiNozzo who better have a damn good excuse for coming in uninvited.

“Don’t really have one,” Tony said suddenly and Gibbs jerked his head back in surprise.

“You spoke out loud,” Tony said with a faint smile before it slipped back into the anxious look again. Gibbs frowned and as he passed the younger man he growled.

“Go away Tony, I can’t be dealing with you and your tales of the women you’ve fucked tonight.”

Tony stepped back for a moment, a genuinely hurt look on his face and something about it made Gibbs’s gut twist painfully. He hated that look on the younger man’s face it didn’t belong there. It tugged at something inside him and he didn’t like that at all.

Moaning a little as he dropped his head forwards he exhaled heavily.

“I didn’t quite mean it like that. What was it you wanted Tony?” As close to an apology as Tony was going to get. It worked either way because Tony strode forwards and settled into a seat.

“I…um, okay this idea seemed better when we were at work…”

Gibbs found himself huffing out a laugh and Tony smiled sheepishly as he did. Rubbing the back of his neck he continued.

“Something was clearly bothering you and I’m not here to make you spill it,” he said cutting Gibbs off when the man opened his mouth to object, “but I know you have a tendency to wallow in self pity and I thought if I was here to distract you then you might at least make it through the day with a smile at the end…. told you it sounded better else where.”

“You’re right about that,” Gibbs said dryly as he swallowed a mouthful of the cool drink. Scrubbing the back of his hand over his mouth he leaned back in his seat and dropped his head back to stare at the ceiling, “But you’re here now.”

Tony nods slightly before he shifts in his seat, indecisive for a moment then moves to sit beside Gibbs on the sofa. He leans back and simply offers his company for a while in silence. Both men stare almost peacefully at the ceiling, Gibbs lifting his drink to his mouth every now and again but otherwise quite content as they were. To be fair Tony, whilst doing nothing, was indeed taking Gibbs’s mind off of the memories associated with the day. No, instead his thoughts were filled with the younger man sat beside him.

He could smell Tony from here, all rich cologne and musk and it attacked his senses. It was the kind of smell that lingered in a room even after Tony had left, faint and yet reassuring in its own strange way. Meant the smell was fresh, meant Tony was still there and not dead or missing like so many agents within the company were. Thankfully so far Gibbs hadn’t lost an agent yet and he’d be damned if he started now. There was also something familiar about it, not so much the cologne but definitely the simple muskiness that was all Tony.

Gibbs frowned a little though when Tony’s arm dropped down, brushing his own in an ‘almost-not-there’ sort of way. It could hardly be considered a touch but Gibbs could feel that same warmth he’d felt earlier when he’d bumped into Tony now begin creeping up his arm and, oddly, into his chest.

He rubbed absent-mindedly at the sensation, his fingers dancing over his chest for a second before he lowered it again. He felt rather than saw Tony drop his head sideways to look at him.

“Do you feel any better?”

Gibbs mirrored the younger man’s action and stared at Tony silently. Well he could hardly say ‘Yes’, that would be giving in and letting Tony know he’d done what he’d set out to do without saying a word. The boy already had an ego the size of Texas, no need to help inflate it any more so.

For some reason Tony smirked and so Gibbs settled for a shrug. It only made Tony grin wider as the younger man dropped his head back with a faint chuckle.

“You were born stubborn and you’ll die stubborn,” he said shaking his head slightly and Gibbs resisted the urge to smirk.

“And how would you know that?” he challenged and Tony laughed lightly again.

“Just a hunch.”

“Go get a beer and shut up,” Gibbs said chuckling and smirking Tony stood with a slap to his thighs. He moved into the kitchen and as he pulled open the fridge door he hummed a vague tune mindlessly whilst fingering various bottles, reading the labels trying to decide on which he’d prefer.

So concentrated on the bottles he was in fact that he failed to notice when Gibbs tilted his head as though trying to hear something better. He turned his ear to hear Tony’s tune better and for a moment his heart faltered before his eyes widened when a memory flashed across his mind’s eye.

He didn’t cry out or scream but he curled further into the warm embrace and whimpered every now and again as tears continued to fall. He became vaguely aware of music reaching his ears and he turned his tear-stained face up to find the angel smiling gently down at him, singing softly as he continued to stroke Jethro’s hair.

“I am stretched on your grave, and I'll lie here forever
If your hands were in mine, I'd be sure they would not sever,”

Jethro could feel his body relaxing at the soft words even though he couldn’t really focus on them.

“My apple tree, my brightness, its time we were together
For I smell by the Earth, and I'm worn by the weather.”

The angel’s arms tightened around him as though in answer to his new found trust in the stranger.

“When my family think, that I'm safely in my bed
Oh, from morn until night, I am stretched out at your head.”

The angel seemed to realise it was the tune more than the words that relaxed the boy in his arms and so continued the haunting tune by merely humming it. He slowly began to rock back and forth whilst continuing with his smooth strokes through Jethro’s hair.

Gibbs didn’t even hear the dull thud as his bottle hit the floor when he stood abruptly. He whirled round and stared in mute shock as Tony re-entered the living room still absently humming the tune. When Tony glanced up he faltered and came to a full stop at the look of pure shock he was getting from Gibbs. Nervously he shifted on his feet until he made to take a hesitant step forward when he suddenly froze himself.

The tune he’d been humming.

Tony’s eyes widened in panic and he opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out.

’Shit shit shit shit! he thought when still nothing left his mouth.

“I…” Gibbs inhaled sharply and tried again, his mind in disarray as flashes of past memories flew in, “I…every year…every year I try to…I lost…”

Tony felt his eyes burn as Gibbs backed away a little. He blinked back any of the itchiness he felt in the tear ducts at seeing Gibbs pull away from him…

…Again.

Gibbs’s hand twitched as though he wanted to raise it and finally he managed to breath out a question.

“My Angel?”

(To be Concluded)

AN: The song that Tony/Gibbs’s Angel sings is ‘Apple Tree’ by Kate Rusby and can be found here: http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendID=82931477

Entanglement

2006-07-03T22:33:37Z

Title: Entanglement
Genre: Angst, bit of fluff
Pairing: Mac/Danny
Rating: R, maybe
Disclaimer: None of the CSI shows belong to me, in fact they belong to CBS and Anthony Zuiker.
Warning: Homophobia
Summary: Danny makes a stand which leads to a misunderstanding.

Entanglement

Danny rubbed tiredly at his eyes, slouched slightly in his seat as he tried to convince them to stay open. Aiden was sat across from him and watched him carefully as he continued to sag with exhaustion, both physical and mental.

“You okay?” she asked softly and Danny jerked slightly, maybe to wake himself up, and nodded heavily.

“Hard case,” he said as though it explained everything, which in a way it did and Aiden nodded in understanding. That was one thing she didn’t miss about working in the labs, and no matter how many times people told you not to take your work home with you, not let it become personal you still couldn’t help taking on the burden to try and correct all the wrongs.

Hell, it had cost her her job, she knew better than anyone how it ate away at you.

“Wanna talk it out?” she asked and she say her friend hesitate for a moment. Finally though Danny sighed and nodded, leaning forwards in the booth they had accommodated for the evening and balled his hands into fists resting them on the table.

“It wasn’t just the case. I mean, I’ve seen worse then these two poor guys but it was…Jesus Aiden, it was the Officers.”

Frowning now Aiden leant in more closely.

“What’d you mean Danny?”

Danny removed his glasses and rubbed a hand down his face before folding the legs of his glasses and rested them on the table. He shook his head viciously once and then turned his passionate blue eyes back onto her.

“Long story short, these were two guys who were together. And I mean that how I say it, they were lovers, shaking up, fuck buddies, whatever the hell you wanna call it. And I’ll give you three guesses what the motive behind the neighbour shooting them was.”

“Homophobia?” Aiden said, her accent thickening and Danny nodded again.

“Some bull story about his daddy leaving him and his momma when he was a kid for another man and his resentment for the ‘filthy faggots tainting the world’. I tell ya Burns, I was ready to sock him one right there in that interrogation room. Bigoted ass.”

“So that gave him the right to shoot those two men then?” Aiden said in a distasteful tone, shaking her head in disgust and sighing heavily.

“Oh apparently so. But you know, he shot them so I wasn’t expecting remorse from him anytime soon,” Danny said taking a moment to sip his drink.

“But you said something about the Officers,” Aiden said slowly and dreaded the answer. This case was probably hard enough on Danny anyway, being Bisexual and all, but she didn’t want to believe that ‘their side’ had contributed to Danny’s sullen mood.

“Not all, I’ll admit that. Flack kept them in check,” Danny said smirking for a brief moment before it disappeared again, “ But yeah, seems some of our Boys in Blue wanted to play the stereotype.”

Massaging his temples Danny rested his elbows on the table.

“They were only offering a half-assed job at it. They didn’t care, didn’t see fit to stop any unnecessary comments coming from some of the other just-as-stupid neighbours. I think I even heard a couple of them agreeing. Don’t quote me on that. But the minute I told them to shut their traps, that it was disrespectful to talk ill of the dead, the dead they’d never met in real life at that, God you shoulda seen the looks Aiden.”

Shaking his head Danny looked up at her again, his face flushed and his eyes looking glassy.

“You should’ve seen the way Mac looked at me.”

Aiden felt her heart thump uncomfortably and she reached over to grip his hand hard. She knew about her friend’s little crush, had teased him discreetly about it all the time in work and occasionally still did. Always told him to just plant one on the man and see what would happen.

She never imagined that Mac would share the same views as…as those people.

“I might’ve as well as declared I was Elton John from the way they was looking at me. You could almost see them trying to look for the ‘tell-tale’ signs, limp wrist, lisp, and funny walk. Jackasses!”

“But you’re sure Mac…” Danny’s sharp self-pitying laugh cut off Aiden mid sentence.

“Oh yes, all calculating looks and silent treatment. Thing is, I’d never pegged him as a homophobe before. He always seemed so understanding…well, to the victims anyway, maybe not so much with me.”

“But he never said anything outright?” Aiden asked carefully. It wouldn’t be the first time Danny had jumped to the worse conclusion first.

“When does Mac ever say anything outright?” Danny retorted and Aiden had to nod at that.

“Touché.”

“Maybe it’s not the victims,” Danny said quietly, “Maybe its me.”

“What did you say exactly?”

“To the Officers? Basically that if they couldn’t say anything nice or professional maybe they should keep their mouths shut. That they didn’t even know the victims so how dare they speculate on how they lived and that there wasn’t nothing wrong with who they chose to love and that they should respect that. I think it was the last line that was the clincher.”

Aiden darted her eyes off to one side before glancing up at her friend again.

“And what did Mac do exactly? Talk me through it.”

Danny did smirk a little at that even as he rubbed tiredly at his forehead.

“‘Walk you through it’, Jesus Christ, once a CSI always a CSI. Okay, I finished my little speech and the boys all got these funny looks on their faces. Gave me a wide-berth if you will just in case I might try to bend one of them over perhaps. Mac…Mac watched in that pensive quiet way that he does, looking between me and the Officers before giving a quiet order for everyone to get back to work…”

/Flashback/

“All right, enough. Everyone, back to your posts. Messer, keep processing the bodies.”

Danny stared at Mac in disbelief but was met with a steady, stern blue gaze. Mentally throwing up his arms he growled quietly and returned to the two men resting on the bed, he would’ve said peacefully if it weren’t for the gunshot wounds in their heads.

He gently brushed aside the hair of one of the victims to get a better picture of the wound, carefully tilting the man’s head to get the various angles before he quietly moved around the bed to do the same to the victim’s lover. He kept his resentment towards the Officers and suspect inside for now, the little ball of fury in his chest causing it to clench every now and again when he passed something sentimental: A photo of the two on the bedside table, splattered with their blood, matching rings on their wedding fingers, their shoes tucked in beside one another under a chair across the room.

Two men who loved each other, nothing more than that, punished for the same thing.

God he wanted to hit something. It hurt even more because it was a life that he wanted with someone, for all his protestations against such a thing. To be loved, to share your life with someone.

Looking up through his eyelashes at his Boss Danny felt his stomach clench unpleasantly.

Mac was watching him, his blue eyes cold and there was a lick of anger in them. He was watching Danny’s every move and instantly Danny dropped his eyes back to the bed.

Was it pathetic that he suddenly felt like crying?

/End of Flashback/

“Oh Danny, I’m sorry,” Aiden said quietly and Danny shrugged as impassively as he possibly could.

“Hey, I wouldn’t be a Messer if I didn’t pine after something I couldn’t have.”

Aiden watched him carefully for a moment before she stood up, moved round the table and dropped in beside him on the other side of the booth. She threw an arm over his shoulders and pulled him in until their temples were touching lightly.

They were silent for a moment, Aiden squeezing reassuringly and Danny absorbing his friend’s comfort before he heard Aiden lick her lips and begin to speak again.

“You want me to come down to the Lab and kick his ass?”

Danny let out a quick burst of laughter before falling sombre again.

“Yeah,” he said pitifully and smiled a little when Aiden chuckled, squeezing him again.

…………………………………………………………………….

Danny closed his eyes, breathed in deeply and exhaled with a small growl. Casually he looked over his shoulder and all he found was the surrounding lab and glass.

Then why the Hell could he feel eyes staring at his back?

Turning back to the experiment in front of him he shrugged and began working again. That was, until the hairs on the back of his neck twitched again as he felt someone staring at him once more. It took everything inside of him to resist slamming down the test tube and shouting at the person he couldn’t even see.

“God dammit,” he muttered to himself, rolling his shoulders and standing straight to stretch his back slightly. He placed his hands at the base of his spine and pushed in as he arched, groaning satisfactorily when his spine clicked. He shook off his hands and returned to his crouched over position, deciding to ignore the ‘eyeballing’.

Squinting at the hairs in front of him from his new case he crouched in lower, sub-consciously tugging the stool he was sitting on further under the workspace as he concentrated.

“Danny.”

Danny yelped, jumped and simultaneously banged his knee against the underside of the desk. He moaned as he put down his tools and rubbed furiously at his throbbing knee before turning to glare at his intruder.

The glare quickly left though when he came face to face with Mac, who was resisting the urge to smile at Danny’s reaction.

“Mac…” Danny really didn’t want to see his Boss right now, especially considering the events of the other day and his conversation with Aiden. But it wasn’t like he could avoid the man forever even if he wanted to stay out of the range of that cold stare.

Although, granted, right now they looked more amused then disgusted.

Still.

“What can I do for you?” he said returning his attention to the hairs lying on the glass slate. He pushed his glasses further up his head and peered down the microscope, trying anything really to have an excuse not to look at the man beside him.

“I was wondering how those hairs you pulled off the vic were coming along?” Mac’s voice was so calm, so soft that Danny could almost forget the look in the man’s eyes from a couple of days ago. The anger, the coldness…

“Fine, fine I’ve got them under the microscope now. Way too thick to be human, I’m thinking cat hair and we know the vic didn’t have any pets so…”

“So you’re thinking transfer,” Mac finished and Danny nodded. “Nice work Danny, we’ll check out the suspects, see if anyone owns a cat…Danny…” Mac’s voice trailed off.

‘Don’t look, don’t look, he’d going to ask you about that day!’

Danny looked up, his glasses slipping back down onto his face as he did.

Mac was staring at him.

‘You don’t listen to anyone do you? Not even yourself you putz!’

“Yeah?” he managed to croak out and mindlessly reached down to rub at his still throbbing knee. Mac’s eyes followed the movement and Danny saw his hand twitch slightly before the blue eyes settled on his again.

“You okay? I know that that case got to you.”

“Case, which case?” Danny said quietly and inwardly berated himself. Only idiots pull the denial card, it never works and just further aggravates things.

“Danny,” Mac’s voice held a warning and the younger man flinched slightly, thankfully not enough for Mac to notice.

“You know which one I mean, the one with a couple murdered in their bed. The other cops and neighbours…the ones you so graciously mouthed off at.”

Danny sighed in frustration this time and turned to Mac. Hearing the man put it like that tugged at something inside of him and in a way it acted like the lever to the Dam he’d been building up for the last couple of days.

“I didn’t ‘mouth off’, I told them to shut up if they couldn’t be professional about it. You telling me I should’ve let them keep on disrespecting the victims like that? Because Mac, they had as much right to be in those apartment blocks as anyone else there, just because they had a different lifestyle doesn’t mean that those bigots had a right to just…”

“Danny...” Mac tried to cut across but Danny was on a roll now and wasn’t to be stopped.

“…Keep bad-mouthing them like that. Hell from what I could see of those scummy bastards the victims were probably one of the nicer couples there. And lets face it, as Officers we’re supposed to have a none-biased opinion to whatever happens around us so watching our own boys agreeing with some of those misguided views just really…”

“Danny…” Mac sighed but still Danny continued, his tongue loose now and really, he didn’t want to stop until he’d said his piece.

“…Got to me and I didn’t see anyone else stepping forwards so yeah, I said my piece. I’m sorry if that pissed you off but I’m not sorry about what I said, those guys were asses and…”

“Danny!” Mac shouted making the younger man whip his head round at him furiously.

“What!” he hissed back.

The two men glared at one another, Danny now juggling one leg agitatedly as he held his bosses gaze. Everything from the case began festering in his chest again and he wanted more than anything to question Mac about ‘that look’ but from the way the man was currently looking at him decided it probably wouldn’t be his smartest move.

“Are you done on your soap box yet?” Mac asked and Danny narrowed his eyes further.

“Would it matter?” he retorted and felt a sliver of satisfaction at the way the other man’s face shifted from pissed to confused.

“What? What’d you mean by that?”

“Well lets be honest…I didn’t exactly see you stepping in yesterday. And now you’re down here to chew my ass out over doing something any decent human being should do anyway.”

Silence followed his accusation.

That was the thing about righteous anger, you never realised when you’d over stepped a line. Danny continued to glare and missed the subtle way Mac’s head dipped back away from him.

“What exactly is it you’re accusing me off Messer?” Mac said slowly, quietly and normally Danny would want to rectify what he’d said but not today. Today he was too frustrated at having the whispers following him around, people speculating him and his ‘ways’, too tired at having to dance around Mac and his moods, never knowing whether today was ‘blame-Messer day’ or not and he was too tired and upset at the prospect at the guy he liked being a possible homophobe.

‘I mean, I know he was a Marine and all but I thought that that was getting better these days,’ he thought defeated.

“Nothing,” Danny said in the end, his voice laced with fatigue as he pushed his glasses up slightly to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Listen, I’m tired, I’m gonna take a break.”

He moved around Mac and was just passing him when Mac’s hand gripped his upped arm. The electric bolts that shot through his arm from the touch made Danny’s knees quiver for a moment before he righted himself again, until he could, just for a second, enjoy the warmth of that hand on him.

“Danny, what’s going on?” Mac asked, worry now beginning to seep into his voice and any other time Danny might’ve basked in that.

“Nothing Mac, don’t worry. Guess I’m just climbing onto my soap box again.”

And after tugging his arm free Danny sped past his private crush and left the lab, holding a hand up in apology when he bumped into a bemused Lindsay who was just entering.

…………………………………………………………………………….

“Well it could’ve been worse,” Aiden said reassuringly as she stroked Danny’s hair, “You could’ve mentioned why his reaction to your little speech upset you so much.”

Danny groaned and buried his face further into her shoulder as Flack chuckled. The three of them were camped out at Aiden’s apartment; ‘Grand Theft Auto’ paused on the screen and a couple of empty bottles sitting on the coffee table. Flack had accommodated the sitting chair as Aiden and Danny spread out on the sofa and the pair of them had listened as Danny griped about his encounter with their ever-stoic boss.

“He said I was ‘On my Soap Box’, as though he just discredited what I had told those men,” Danny mumbled, his voice muffled by Aiden’s shirt and groaned again as he buried in closer.

“Gotta admit, that was a little callous, even for Mac,” Flack agreed as he sipped from his beer again. Danny flopped back against the sofa as he sighed, his arms spread-eagled as he did so and stared at the ceiling.

“Suppose I should take it as a sign,” he said reluctantly and didn’t even twitch when Flack un-paused the game to continue playing despite the fact he was still listening.

“And what sign is that Messer?” Aiden said as she reached over to pat his head again.

“That I really have to stop falling for the straight ones.”

Flack chuckled and then cursed as his character was shot on the screen. Aiden smirked and ruffled his hair affectionately.

“Yeah, that could help.”

Danny smirked despite himself and closed his eyes.

……………………………………………………………………

Danny got home a couple of hours later, stumbling up the apartment block stairway as though drunk but merely tired and reached his door. He put the keys in the lock, turned it but didn’t open the door straight away. Instead he rested his forehead against the cool wood and stared at the chipping red paint before knocking his head against it a couple of times.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid…” he muttered quietly with each bang then groaned and pushed the door open. Clicking it closed behind him he automatically threw the chain lock closed and hit a couple of light switches by the door. His kitchen and living room table light lit up with a soft glow, and clumsily he traipsed into the kitchen to open the fridge. The low hum of the freezer sounded as he peered in and grabbed a microwavable meal, turning and nudging the door shut again with his foot as he threw the meal into the microwave. After he’d pressed the glaring five-minute button he turned and surveyed the otherwise silent apartment as he leant against his kitchen counter.

Across his mind’s eye he got a flash of a framed photograph on a bedside table, two men holding each other as they smiled for the camera, of two pairs of shoes resting beside one another.

Blinking he then looked round at his own apartment; one pair of shoes kicked haphazardly to the side by the door, one jacket thrown over the back of a chair, and the sound of a 5 minute meal turning in his microwave.

Sighing he pushed up and away from the counter just as a beep filled his kitchen. He opened the door of the microwave, the smell of chicken coming out in a gust of freed air and with his free hand pulled a plate out from the cupboard above his head. He scrapped the miserable looking meal onto the white plate with a fork then threw the empty box into the bin tucked under his sink.

He sat himself down at his table and after gathering up a mouthful of chicken on his fork he made to put it into his mouth when a knock sounded at his door.

He groaned, contemplated ignoring it and stuffed the bite into his mouth when the knock sounded again, louder this time. Groaning he continued to chew his food as he pushed up from the table, wiping his hands on a nearby dishcloth and quickly ran a hand over his mouth as swallowed.

The knocking came again and he growled loudly.

“Alright, alright, keep it down! Some of us are trying to have dinner ya know! If that’s you Flack I’m gonna pound on you just a little bit.” he called and he threw off the lock and opened the door.

He faltered and blinked when he came face to face with Mac Taylor, his grip on the door tightening in panic as he stared at his guest.

Neither of them spoke for a couple of minutes until Mac shifted his weight onto his other foot and cleared his throat.

“So are we going to stay like this all evening or can I come in?” he asked hoarsely although there was a hint of amusement in his voice at that way that Danny remained frozen.

As though he’d been prodded Danny jumped and stuttered before he nodded and opened the door wider for lack of anything else to do.

“Mac, what…why are you here?” he asked as he closed the door behind him and turned to face his boss. Mac however was looking at the rapidly cooling meal on the table and gestured towards it.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your meal Danny. If you want you can continue eating as we talk, I don’t mind.”

Danny glanced at the meal and sub-consciously ran his tongue over his back teeth.

“Ah, tasted like crap anyway, don’t worry.” He then turned his attention back to Mac, “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Eat, the last I knew you hadn’t eaten since lunch. I’ll answer your question.”

Mac gestured towards the meal again and Danny made to protest but Mac smiled gently as he pointed again. Sighing Danny managed a small smirk of his own and moved round to pick up his fork and settled, Mac sitting across from him as he did so.

“Christ, makes me feel like I’m two again with my nanny making sure I eat every bite,” Danny joked and Mac uttered a soft chuckle as he tugged off his coat, draping it over the back of the dining chair.

“Well someone has to make sure you look after yourself,” Mac said lowly and Danny stared at him for a moment, watched as the light banter between them began to die down again.

“Why’re you here Mac?” he said after a moment and Mac looked down at the table for a moment before meeting his eyes square on.

“I wanted to apologise for this afternoon. It wasn’t until afterwards that I realised what it looked like. I wasn’t there to reprimand you and I’m sorry that it came across that way. It’s just, when you started saying those things…”

“Yeah,” Danny said cutting him off, “Yeah, no sorry about that. You were right, I got on my high horse and…”

“You beat me to it. I made to talk to the other Officers but you’d already gotten up, it upsets me that we even have people who think like that on the Force.”

Danny slowly chewed some more chicken and swallowed thickly as he looked away from the man across from him.

“Oh,” he said wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Right. Then I really am sorry, accusing you of…well, of being a jerk. Guess that would be me instead huh?”

Mac shook his head and leaned in closer.

“You were upset. Danny…is there something you’d like to tell me?”

Danny froze and looked up at the older man, placed his fork down gently onto the table as he did so and pushed the plate away.

“You know, I’m not really that hungry,” he said quietly and grabbed the plate as he stood, putting his foot down on the peddle of his bin to raise the lid and scrapped away the rest of his cold dinner. He heard Mac stand up and he moved himself over to the sink and started rinsing the plate off trying to ignore the presence behind him.

“Danny?” he tensed as a hand rested on his shoulder and clenched his eyes shut at the warmth of the touch. It had exactly the same effect as before and he took a couple of seconds out to enjoy the tingling sensations running over his back from that point.

“Like what?” he managed to croak out after a minute and inwardly winced at how he sounded. Mac’s hand moved away and he silently cried out at the loss but that was only until he was turned and he was face to face with Mac, his upper arms held in a gentle grip as the older man looked down at him.

“I know what everyone has been saying, I know what rumours have started. And…I know that its getting to you,” Mac said softly and Danny found himself leaning in to hear him better. He failed to notice as the older man stepped closer though and continued to just stare at the grey blue eyes in front of him, unconsciously logging all the different shades that made up the irises as he did.

“And I guess I wanted to know whether it was getting to you because it was false…or because it was true.”

Danny felt his heart stutter and briefly wondered if he was old enough to qualify for a heart attack. His eyes widened and he pulled back but found himself trapped in Mac’s hands still.

“Shh, I’m sorry,” Mac released him as soon as Danny became distressed, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Danny fell back against the kitchen counted not taking his eyes off the man in front of him. Mac looked sincerely apologetic for scaring the younger man and Danny could see his hesitation to move any closer, but the fact that Mac wanted to proved an interesting point.

‘Shit. Okay, do you put the cards down? Do you deny everything? This is the moment Danny boy, gamble or nothing. Continue on how you’ve been or take that risk?’

Danny closed his eyes tightly and after a long moment he nodded.

“What’re you nodding at Danny? False or true?” Mac said softly and Danny could feel it when the man stepped forwards again. Opening his eyes he clenched his jaw before breathing in and licked his lips.

“True, partially. I mean…I’m…bisexual is best used for me,” he said, his voice cracking at different intervals as his heart pounded against his ribcage. He saw something in Mac’s eyes, a flash of something he couldn’t quite place and licked his lips again.

“Is that going to be a problem?” he asked quietly and he watched as Mac frowned slightly.

“Of course not. You’ve had no problem with women when I thought you were heterosexual, I don’t see how this changes anything.”

Danny huffed out a relieved laugh and rested a hand against his forehead.

“Right, yeah of course. Sorry, I’m a little…”

“Jumpy?” Mac offered with a small smile and Danny chuckled again.

“Yeah you can say that.”

“Don’t be,” Mac said and Danny watched again as the older man hesitated. He was leaning in slightly and Danny couldn’t help thinking that if he just pushed forwards a couple of centimetres, just went for it then he could finally feel those lips on his.

Mac however seemed to shake his head slightly and stepped back a little so Danny couldn’t feel his body heat so much. The older man cleared his throat and briefly rubbed at his temple before dropping his hand again as he turned.

“Besides, I do my job just fine considering, don’t see how it could be any different for you,” he said and moved over towards his coat to rest his hand on the back of the chair it was lying on.

‘Huh?’

“What?” Danny said out loud, raising an eyebrow in confusion and Mac turned to look at him. Danny faltered as he caught the flash of vulnerability in the other man’s eyes before it was replaced with exasperation.

‘Job fine, same, any different from me,’ Danny’s mind worked a mile a minute before suddenly, like a car hitting him, he got it.

‘Oh.’

“Oh,” he said quietly and watched as Mac looked down at his hands, “I never…I mean, what with your wife…”

Mac gave a small, sad smile as he exhaled sharply out of his nose.

“Still miss her, loved her with everything in me.”

Danny looked down and closed his eyes, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay,” Mac said and he moved back round to be in front of Danny again although admittedly not as close as before, “It’s been five years. It hurts, always will but…Stellas right, I can’t stay alone forever, be it man or woman.”

They were silent after that and Danny, still slouched against the counter, reached up his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose causing his glasses to ride up slightly as he did.

‘So, not only is Mac okay with you being Bisexual it turns out he is too, despite once being married to a woman he clearly loved, still does in fact even five years after her death and you’ve been acting like a jerk thinking he’s just another bigot. Well done Messer, clearly it was getting to that time of year again for you to fuck up your relationship with the man you want to be with.’

“Mac, I’m so sorry, I mean all things considered me saying that you…”

Danny drifted off when he felt hands on the counter either side of his hips and had the distinct feeling of being trapped. Opening his eyes he locked onto the same intense eyes he hadn’t been able to stop staring at earlier and found his nose mere centimetres from the other CSI’s.

“Mac,” he whispered and automatically the other man looked down at his lips as he spoke. Nervously Danny licked his lips and watched as Mac’s eyes narrowed and how he moved a little closer.

“Now would be a really good time to tell me whether I’ve misread some things,” Mac whispered back and as he moved forwards Danny automatically closed his eyes.

‘Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit….’

Soft lips pressed against his pliant ones, simply pressed together for a couple of seconds before both men gently began to press themselves closer, Danny’s hand reaching up to grip at one of the arms encasing him and Mac’s other hand moving to rest on his hip, thumb moving back and forth in a tingling arch on the slither of skin revealed there.

‘Oh,’ Danny’s thoughts had all but melted as he pressed their lips together again more aggressively and relishing in the feel of Mac pressing closer, chest and hips lightly resting against his own.

They both tilted their heads slightly and Danny felt the tip of a tongue pressing against the seam of his lips and he opened to it, deepening the kiss and moaning brokenly as Mac teased his tongue into action, touching timidly and twining gently.

He reached a hand up to cup the side of Mac’s face, holding it as he ran his thumb in an imitation to Mac’s still moving on his hip. He groaned a little as he cracked his eyes open slightly, just enough to see that it was indeed Mac Taylor giving him the best kiss he’d ever had. Reassured, he closed them again and gave a happy whimper when a hand slid slowly up his side, across his shoulder, up his arm and finally linked with his own that rested on Mac’s face.

Unfortunately oxygen became a situation and pulling back gently they remained pressed together, Danny resting his cheek against Mac’s as he caught his breathe and let his eyes flutter shut as he smiled.

“Guess you really don’t have a problem with me then,” he said shakily and smiled again when Mac huffed out a laugh.

“I’m sure we’ll find a way around it,” the older man said in return and this time Danny chuckled.

Pulling back enough to look the other man in the face Danny turned serious momentarily. As though captivated by the movement he reached up to stroke one cheek and then ran his hand down until his fingertips rested on Mac’s lips. A smile flitted across his own lips when Mac kissed them gently.

“Why? Why now?” he asked quietly.

Mac closed his eyes as he kissed the fingers more firmly before opening them again to lock onto Danny’s.

“Because I wasn’t sure before,” he admitted, “because there was something in your voice when you stood up to those guards. Something that told me you wouldn’t punch me on sight.”

Danny did chuckle at that.

“You used to be a Marine, you could take down a pipsqueak like me no problem.”

Mac remained stony faced though as he shook his head.

“I never want to hurt you, in self-defence or anything. Plus…I don’t think I could…”

“I get it,” Danny said interrupting, stroking more firmly and pulled Mac back towards him, kissing him chastely as he did. Because he did, get it that was. Mac had lost the woman he loved in an event no one could’ve predicted and Danny was a free spirit so who was to say the man didn’t have justifiable reason to be wary? Getting your heart-broken once was more than enough, twice would be torturous.

‘And yet he took the chance,’ Danny thought and moved to warp his arms around Mac’s neck, the other man’s automatically circling Danny’s hips and they deepened the kiss once again.

He hadn’t realised that he had sub-consciously begun leading the man to his bedroom until his back bumped into the doorframe, Mac and he stumbling a little and groaning as Mac pressed him up against the frame there, his hands sliding up under Danny’s shirt and roaming over his slightly sweaty back.

Pushing up and away from the wall with one shoulder he continued the path to his bed until he fell backwards onto it with Mac coming down on top of him. He instantly raised his knees to trap Mac’s hips over his and moaned in protest when Mac drew his lips up and away from his.

Mac framed his face between his hands, his thumbs stroking over Danny’s cheekbones as he looked down at his soon-to-be-lover.

“You sure?” he said softly and Danny was smiling brightly up at him.

“More than anything ever before,” he said affirmatively and Mac smiled at him gently.

“I don’t mind waiting if you’re not, I’m not going anywhere,” he promised and Danny leaned his head back with a laugh.

“Neither am I, so why wait? Been wanting this for years,” he admitted and Mac kissed just under his eyes in reward.

“How long?” Mac muttered against his skin and once more Danny faltered causing Mac to lean back, a hand stroking his face reassuringly. “Danny?”

“Long time.”

Mac kissed him lightly and rested their foreheads together. Blue met blue and after holding the gaze for what felt like hours Danny finally sighed although a light flush began to colour his face.

“A week after I met you,” he muttered and Mac remained silent as his eyebrows lifted up in shock.

“I was still married then.”

“Yeah.”

Mac studied him silently and then moved down to kiss Danny once again whilst simultaneously pushing his hips down to press against the younger man beneath him. Danny couldn’t help dropping his head back as he groaned and Mac latched onto his neck.

“Hope I can live up to your expectations,” he whispered.

“Surpassed them already,” Danny said equally as quietly.

Then he simply closed his eyes and let himself just feel.

…………………………………………………………………………

The radio clock on the bedside table buzzed onto 6am and quietly the first few keyboard notes of ‘Baba ‘O Riley’ filled the otherwise quiet room. Danny’s hand flopped in its general direction but he just couldn’t bring himself to move to turn it off. When Pete Townsend started crooning through the speakers he tried again but his body felt too languid.

He tensed however when an arm reached over him and flicked it off. He watched it as it moved back to rest over his hips and instantly he relaxed.

‘Mac.’

Closing his eyes and smiling Danny turned over, stretching midway and then opened his eyes again to come face to face with a tenderly smiling Mac.

“Hi,” he mumbled and stretched again as he placed a small kiss on the lips in front of him, smiling when they pressed closer and moaned when Mac pulled him closer by placing a hand in between Danny’s shoulder blades.

“Hello,” Mac mumbled against his lips. When Danny eventually pulled away he tucked his head under the older man’s chin and sighed.

“Can I assume then that this is more than a one night stand?” he asked quietly, practically purring when a hand reached up to run through his tussled hair.

“I don’t do one night stands,” came the gruff answer and Danny pushed his grinning face into the warmth of Mac’s neck.

“Good.”

He pulled back to look down at his lover and they both smiled.

“Yep.”

So what if everyone was whispering about him now? So what if every guy assumed he was checking him out in the showers after gym? Right then, wrapped up in tangled sheets, curled around his lover and relishing the feel of damp skin pressed against his own he really couldn’t bring himself to care. Because thanks to those same pigheaded men he now had what he’d always wanted, was with who he’d always wanted.

Letting his eyes drift onto the floor Danny grinned at what he saw there before he turned to capture Mac’s lips once more:

Two shirts, a white tank tee and an Oxford button down, entwined together on the floor with a set of dog tags nestled on top, glistening in the morning light.

Finite

Ficlet

2006-06-20T11:22:17Z

Title: Rain City
Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort, Song fic, CSI: NY
Rating: PG-13, if that.
Disclaimer: None of the characters from any of the CSI shows belong to me. The song also, does not belong to me and is in fact Turin Brakes.
Pairing: Danny/?
Summary: Post 'Run Silent, Run Deep'. Help me down, or Hold me down, I feel the world is tumbling...

Rain City

Opened my eyes had a dream last night that both my arms were broken,
Evening time,
Help me now or hold me down, I feel the world is tumbling,
Spiralling down,

His hands were trembling uncontrollable by this point, fine little shivers that caused them to vibrate until a shudder ran down his spine as though he was cold. Frustrated, he clenched them into tight fists and placed them in his lap ignoring the little droplets that landed on them a moment later.

He kept his head down, allowed his body to sway slightly with the jerks of the Underground train and closed his eyes, absorbing the sounds around him: Shuffling passengers, loud tracks, compressed air whistling past them outside the windows in the darkness of the tunnels.

Oh my love I can’t let go,
Something’s wrong I can’t let go,
Natures cruel she’s laughing,

He looked up then and looked across at the blackened window on the other side of the carriage, stared at his reflection as it stared solemnly back at him:

Tear stained cheeks tainting them red, flushed with exhaustion both mental and physical. Red rimmed eyes still swimming with unshed tears, a jaw that trembled every now and again as he fought the urge to simply break down and a chest that heaved with heavy sighs. Closing his eyes he leant his head back before blinking them open again to focus on the strip light in the ceiling until he began to see dots before his eyes.

As I feel my way through the century,
As I slowly turn to house dust,
Tumbling down,
The rain comes down like a victory,
In sheets of shining memory,
Over and over,
Circling around,

He flexed his fingers slightly as he forced his gaze away from the blinding light. They felt stiff and he moved them in and out of a fist to get the blood flowing to his fingertips again as he closed his eyes once more.

Tiredly he dropped his head forwards again and felt his chest constrict painfully as a very quick, very detailed image of Louie flashed across his mind’s eye. He jolted, his sudden intake of breathe sounding remarkably similar to a sob and he clenched his hands into tight fists again.

Oh my love I can’t let go,
Something’s wrong I can’t let go,
Natures cruel she’s laughing,
Almost too much for my heart,

He twitched when he felt a warmth drop over his fist, another hand that held his tightly and he reached up with his free hand to wipe at his eyes, his sleeve pulled down over it to act as a tissue. He allowed his other hand to slacken until the comforting touch slowly slid their fingers inbetween his clammy ones. Once they were linked he tightened his hold again so that his lifeline remained.

When it rains,
Oh tears my soul apart,
When it rains,
Almost too much for my heart,

Beginning to feel his strength waning he slipped sideways slightly until his shoulder bumped against another. He carefully dropped his head to rest against it staring blankly ahead and he inhaled slowly, exhaling in a similar manner.

It didn’t make his heart hurt any less.

His eyes fluttered closed when a hand reached up to gentle brush his hair away from his forehead. The fingertips felt cool and yet sent jolts of warmth running through him as he leant into the touch. The fingers ran softly over his cheekbone, down his chin before dropping away. So soft, as though they hadn’t even been there but he could still feel the tiny prickles on his face that acknowledged he hadn’t imagined the caress.

In a dream,
Oh tears my soul apart,
The rain clouds move so slowly,
Above the city,
Where I’m from

Danny blinked his eyes open again and turned his face slightly so that it still rested on the shoulder holding him up but that he could also see the owner’s face. Despite how he looked, despite how he felt he still managed to offer the smallest grateful smile to the man lending him his strength.

Mac offered him one of his own in return, one side of his mouth turning up slightly as he gently squeezed Danny’s hand.

Finite

callista_mythol @ 2006-04-14T23:27:00

2006-04-14T22:27:58Z

Arty Kid

Whether you were a drama freak or an emo poet, you definitely were expressive and unique.

You're probably a little less weird these days - but even more talented!

Who Were You In High School?

So true, these are really addictive tonight!!

callista_mythol @ 2006-04-14T22:34:00

2006-04-14T21:35:20Z

You're an Expert Kisser

You're a kissing pro, but it's all about quality and not quantity
You've perfected your kissing technique and can knock anyone's socks off
And you're adaptable, giving each partner what they crave
When it comes down to it, your kisses are truly unforgettable

What Kind of Kisser Are You?

Hoooooooo yeah :D!

callista_mythol @ 2006-04-14T22:21:00

2006-04-14T21:21:46Z

Your Kissing Purity Score: 49% Pure

You're not one to kiss and tell...

But word is, you kiss pretty well.

Kissing Purity Test

Because you know its true ;)

Gigglegigglesnort!

2006-04-14T21:13:09Z

Your Porn Star Name Is...

Honey Caves

What's Your Porn Star Name?

Sorry, playing with the quizzes now hehe!

2006-04-14T21:00:52Z

Your Five Factor Personality Profile

Extroversion:

You have high extroversion.
You are outgoing and engaging, with both strangers and friends.
You truly enjoy being with people and bring energy into any situation.
Enthusiastic and fun, you're the first to say "let's go!"

Conscientiousness:

You have high conscientiousness.
Intelligent and reliable, you tend to succeed in life.
Most things in your life are organized and planned well.
But you borderline on being a total perfectionist.

Agreeableness:

You have medium agreeableness.
You're generally a friendly and trusting person.
But you also have a healthy dose of cynicism.
You get along well with others, as long as they play fair.

Neuroticism:

You have low neuroticism.
You are very emotionally stable and mentally together.
Only the greatest setbacks upset you, and you bounce back quickly.
Overall, you are typically calm and relaxed - making others feel secure.

Openness to experience:

Your openness to new experiences is high.
In life, you tend to be an early adopter of all new things and ideas.
You'll try almost anything interesting, and you're constantly pushing your own limits.
A great connoisseir of art and beauty, you can find the positive side of almost anything.

The Five Factor Personality Test

Wahey, check me out!

2006-04-14T20:52:27Z

Your results:
You are Supergirl

Supergirl		72%
Superman		70%
The Flash		70%
Spider-Man		65%
Robin		62%
Wonder Woman		57%
Green Lantern		55%
Hulk		50%
Iron Man		50%
Batman		30%
Catwoman		25%

Lean, muscular and feminine.
Honest and a defender of the innocent.

Click here to take the "Which Superhero are you?" quiz...

Oh yes lol!

2006-04-12T09:45:01Z

Chapter 15

2006-04-06T20:22:35Z

Title: "We Two"
Rating: PG-13 for now, R later
Pairing: Nick Stokes/Jim Brass
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Drama/Romance
Summary: Post ep to "A Bullet Runs through it Part 2". A rather unexpected source shows Jim Brass a fierce friendship in his hour of need that makes him question just how deep his emotions for the CSI run.

Chapter 15 - Working together for the first time.

“We Two”

Chapter 15

Brass POV

Jim crouched low beside the body inspecting it as best he could without touching anything. The young woman was lying spread-eagled tied to her bed wearing only her undergarments with dark bruises around her neck.

He looked up at the suspect, her lover, being lead away and shook his head in disgust. The man seemed remorseful but it could’ve been an act, just as easily as it could’ve been genuine.

‘Where are the CSIs anyway?’ he thought idly as he stood, his knee clicking slightly making him wince and resting his hand on the back of his neck he stretched it slightly to work out any kinks.

“I swear sometimes I’m too old for this job,” he muttered more to himself but the young female cop standing at the door smiled all the same.

“You’re not old Jim.”

Opening his eyes Jim smiled when Greg Sanders and Nick Stokes came through the door, silver cases in hand. He shook his head lightly and stepped over to the pair as they placed their kits down and quickly surveyed the room.

“Liar. Sweet comment, but a liar all the same.” He teased and Nick glanced up at him winking when he was sure the female officer had stepped out of the room.

“I never lie Jim, it’s my job to only say the truth,” Nick replied as he pulled on a pair of latex gloves whilst keeping his eyes on the Captain standing in front of him.

Greg groaned and stuck his tongue out in a grossed out manner.

“Please, I’m all for you boys but no flirting yeah?” he said moaning slightly as he tugged on his own set of gloves and smirked when the other two men flushed lightly. Unfortunately despite the fact that Jim was blushing he refused to be outdone by a Level One and smirked wickedly.

“And Sanders has just volunteered to ALS the bed sheets, how sweet of you,” he said and chuckled when Greg made a noise of disgust.

“No way, you can’t tell me what to do,” Greg replied sticking his tongue out and looking smug.

“I can,” Nick said smiling, “I’m your superior. So…hop to it Greggo.”

Greg opened his mouth to complain but thought better of it when he caught Jim’s face. His jaw snapped shut and he puffed his cheeks out as he walked out of the room to retrieve the apparatus grumbling under his breath.

Jim looked over at Nick who was smiling back at him. He winked and moved towards the body again.

“Clara Gilmore aged 25. Neighbours heard screaming and called the Cops, when we turn up we find the boyfriend raving up a storm and her tied to the bed beyond help. Guy kept screaming something about her belonging to only him.”

Jim shook his head again as he looked down at the young woman with her eyes still open and her face twisted in one of fear. He hated that look, the fact that you could sometimes see the person’s last emotions smeared all over their faces.

He looked back at Nick who was taking in the body and its surrounding environment. He followed with his eyes as the young man moved towards the scene, crouching down to get a better look at the marks around the woman’s neck and Jim smirked at himself when he felt a familiar feeling flutter in his stomach.

‘You are a man in your fifties, act your age…and gender actually. No one likes to see a grown man act like a little girl with her first crush,’ he firmly told himself silently and chuckled making the man kneeling on the floor look up at him.

“Something funny?” he asked with a grin of his own and Jim shook his head.

“No, sorry. Not the time.” He said nodding his head towards the girl again. Nick offered a quick wink and went back to work just as Greg came back into the room carrying an UltraLite ALS.

“All right ladies, coming through,” Greg said sulkily as he placed a pair of goggles on and set up the equipment. Jim stepped back and continued to keep an eye on the two CSIs.

“Oh goodie,” Greg quipped dryly as he dragged the light over the bed around the body.

“Lit up like a tree at Christmas time?” Nick said idly and the other man nodded sagely.

“Well I suppose we’ve got a DNA sample at least.”

“Still need to get one of him.”

“We know he did it.”

“Yeah but the jury are fickle beings. They’ll want to hear there was a comparison. First need David to clear the body.”

Jim continued to watch silently as the two younger men bantered back and forth between themselves and found himself smiling indulgently.

He kept an especially close eye on Nick as the man laughed at something Greg had said. The man looked so relaxed, so at ease at his job and Greg seemed to relax under Nick’s supervision as well. His lover, and dammit but that thought still made his heart beat that fraction bit quicker, was a natural at his job, Jim knew this of course but there was something else there that he hadn’t noticed before.

Nick was beautiful. He moved with the knowledge of what procedures needed to be handled, of where would be the next place to look for the best evidence, of how to handle such a delicate situation as someone’s death. His empathy, the very thing that was brought up countless times against him, made him practically glow. If you’re sister, or your mother, your lover, whatever had been taken from you then this was the man that you wanted to have find them, dead or alive.

And it was these kind of thoughts that were making it increasingly difficult to resist the urge to move towards Nick and kiss him thoroughly.

Nick seemed to sense the intensity of Jim’s eyes on him and looked up curiously. He offered a small smile to the older man and Jim returned it.

God just wait till he got the man home.

………………………………………………………………..

“So I’m going to drop these off at the Lab but I guess we need someone to go to the Precinct with Brass to watch the interrogation.”

Both Jim and Nick looked over at Greg who was tapping his lip thoughtfully in mock-thought.

“Now who should we send to ride alone in the car with a certain Captain?” Greg gave a fake gasp and looked over at Nick, “Nicky, could you do it?”

Jim growled low in his throat but Nick seemed to find the situation humorous and sniggered.

“I think you’d better run Greg, Jim might just set the Police Dogs on you.”

“Who said anything about dogs? I’d take the guy out myself,” Jim threatened with an overly innocent smile on his face that clearly unnerved the ex-labrat as Greg shuffled away before darting towards his truck.

“Guess I’m with you,” Nick said with a cheeky smile.

“Looks like it Nicky,” Jim said and quickly unlocked the door of his car for both of them to climb in.

The first five or so minutes were in silence but when they were safely out on the main road Jim felt Nick’s hand snake onto his thigh and he took one hand off the wheel to place it over Nick’s.

“How’re you holding up?” Jim said amusedly and Nick gave a groan.

“I want to kiss you badly,” he admitted and Jim chortled as he nodded.

“Know the feeling.”

Nick grinned at him and squeezed the thigh gently. Jim linked their fingers together, enjoying the warmth on his palm as he moved his thumb back and forth. He loved to stroke the smooth skin like that, it was already an addiction to him to feel it under the pad of his thumb and was dearly beginning to wish that the shift was over.

“I spoke to Grissom.”

Jim blanched and whipped his head over to look at Nick. The younger man returned the look with a steady stare of his own and Jim let out a sigh.

“What’d you say?” he asked gruffly and felt Nick squeeze his hand tightly.

“That he had his chance once but didn’t take it. That I’m over him…that I’m with you now, that I belong with you.”

Jim’s heart thudded heavily, pleasantly and he smiled at the tingles that erupted on the back of his neck. Maintaining eye contact with his younger lover he raised their joined hands and brought them to his lips. The smile that Nick gave him was its own reward.

“Yeah?” he said more huskily than he would’ve liked and Nick’s eyes crinkled in amusement.

“Thought it was obvious.”

“Still nice to hear it.”

“Then Jim Brass, listen up. I’m with you, intend to stay with you and I wish you and Grissom would make up because you two are better than this.”

Jim snorted in amusement and kissed Nick’s knuckles again.

“Pushy little thing aren’t you?”

“You have no idea. But now you’re stuck with me so there.”

“Lord help me,” he said moving their hands slightly so he could rub his fingertips over Nick’s palm soothingly, “And what can I say? There’s a pretty boy involved this time…but you’re right.”

Nick beamed then put on a woeful face.

“As you’ll find out more often now you’ve got me. Its both a blessing and a curse.”

Jim laughed and mock-glared at the smug young man in his passenger seat.

“You’ve been around Sanders too long.”

“Jealous?”

“Of that pipsqueak? Please.”

“You’re with a guy a day and he’s already insulting you’re friends.”

“Oh shut up,” Jim said lightly as they came to a red light and tugged Nick closer to him. Nick was still grinning madly so Jim quickly covered his lips with his own, tilting his head for a better angle and deepened the kiss drawing a moan out of his lover.

‘I could get used to this,’ he thought briefly before bringing a hand up to caress a cheek as he pressed them closer together.

They both jumped when a horn behind them sounded and blushed furiously as they moved back into their seats.

They were both also grinning like madmen however.

(TBC)

AN: Felt good writing this chapter. And I’m in such a good fucking mood right now because I’ve just come out to my brother and sister with success! Just the parents to go now *slaps hands to cheeks and looks worried.* Feedback please!

You asked for it!

2006-03-22T18:10:48Z

“We Two”

Seek you a Priceless Treasure, Seek you a Golden Friend – Mary Summer Rain

Prologue

When he stepped out of the emotionally overbearing room onto the front deck, hat still clutched between two trembling hands, Jim Brass exhaled shakily. He reached up with one hand and wiped at the tracks on his face before setting his jaw and glancing up at the sky.

It was easier than looking at the windows where several fellow cops were watching him, whispering to one another and looking accusingly at him. Judging him for something he already punished himself for ever since finding out the true events.

Ignoring the hairs standing up on the back of his neck, his gut telling him he was still being watched he raised his Uniform hat and placed it gently on his head tugging it down slightly before inhaling again.

Risking one last glance behind him Jim caught Mrs Bell’s glassy eyes and nodded minutely. Her lip trembled but she offered as much of an encouraging smile as she could. Feeling himself tearing up again he turned away and headed towards his car.

………………………………

Chapter 1

The house seemed so quiet when he finally managed to unlock his door; it was almost unusually eerie especially with the surrounding darkness. Sighing Jim pulled off his hat where he then stuck it under his arm as he tugged off his white gloves. He moved into the bedroom where his hanger for his uniform was still placed on the door and slowly began pulling off his uniform.

He faltered at the badge on the breast of the shirt, sucking in a sharp breath and attempting to breathe through the ache that had suddenly clutched at his heart. He could feel the shirt bunching up in his hands as his fists curled in and he rubbed the gold star with his thumb then let out an exasperated sigh before hanging up his shirt.

He stepped back in nothing but his T-shirt and boxers until he could feel his legs hit the edge of his bed and sat down heavily. He felt like he should be crying but something in him wouldn’t allow it for a second time. He resorted instead then to rubbing a hand down his weary face and let out a groan, dropping back onto the bed where he closed his eyes.

Jim knew willing it away never worked, had known this for well over 30 years on the force but still attempted it briefly before giving up entirely. He draped his arm over his face to shield his eyes from the light coming in from the window and could pretend that the insistent prickles at his tear ducks were from the pressure of his arm.

How long he lay there he didn’t know, had giving up on counting the minutes and was pretty sure he may have even had dropped off for a while so he found himself jumping slightly when his phone started ringing loudly from the living room.

Half-tempted to ignore it, almost utterly convinced it was going to be a reporter or a cop who hadn’t had his chance to make him feel like crap or even some nosy civilian thinking they knew better and wanted to tell him what a bad person he was. He rolled away from it and let out a relived sigh when it stopped only to groan when it started up again almost instantly.

Whoever it was wasn’t giving up without a fight so cursing lightly he pushed himself up and stumbled slightly into the living room before reaching over and answering the inevitable.

“Brass.” He said heavily and pinched his nose as he scrunched up his eyes.

“Jesus Jim you sound like a man who just received a flogging.”

The smallest smile pulled at his lips as he naturally relaxed at Catherine’s voice. He manoeuvred himself over to the sofa and sat down gracelessly.

“Well it was near enough.” He admitted and could practically feel Catherine’s sympathy down the phone.

“Jim it wasn’t your fault.” Catherine said gently and Jim nodded at nobody.

“Okay.” He said quietly.

“Seriously Jim, don’t you dare take no crap from no one. It was an accident in a chaotic environment. You know we’ve got your back right?”

One thing that could be said for Catherine Willows, in a fight you sure wanted her on your side otherwise you’d better run for the hills because this woman was not above using your scrotum for kick boxing practice. Jim found himself giving the smallest of smirks at that thought.

“I know Cath. How did Gil’s Community demonstration go?” he asked, not really caring about the answer but desperately wanting to change the topic.

There was a shuffling sound, voices in the background before he could hear Catherine’s voice fade slightly.

“Jim, you still there? It’s Grissom.”

‘Figures’, Jim thought humourlessly, ‘they’ve tag teamed me.’

“Yeah I’m still here Gil. Did you hear my question?”

“Yes and to answer your question it went…. ‘well’ I suppose but that’s hardly the right word. The people had their answers and seemed satisfied.”

“Good, I…that’s good. Listen, Gil I appreciate you and Catherine checking up on me but I’m very tired. I just want to get some sleep okay?” Jim said dropping his head back against the sofa.

“No, no I understand. We just wanted to see…Jim, you’re a good man.” Gil’s voice changing from understanding to assertive was enough to make Jim open his eyes but he remained silent none the less.

“Jim?”

“Yeah, I’m still here. I’m going to go now. Thank you, and thank Catherine for me.” And before Gil could answer Jim hung up.

Giving himself a moment to clench and unclench his fists Jim then stood up and returned to his bedroom where he pulled back the comforter of his bed. He climbed in, pulling it up to his shoulders and buried his face into the white sterile looking pillow and tried to pretend for just a couple of hours that the he didn’t hate himself right then.
………………………………………………………………

Jim drifted in and out of unconsciousness, his body jerking slightly every now and again as he woke to the sounds of gunfire that weren’t really there. He was caught in the place between being awake and being asleep when he could hear knocking at his door. He forced his groggy mind to react and slowly watched the world come into focus.

“G’way.” He mumbled into his pillow and pulled the duvet up further over his head, moaning when the knocking carried on insistently. Clearly today was the day every one insisted on speaking with him, regardless of whether he answered or not.

“Okay, okay.” He grouched quietly and pushed up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He rubbed tiredly at his eyes and got up with a grunt, grabbing a pair of jeans and his dressing gown on the way to the door. Tugging them on he cursed when the knocks sounded again.

“Alright!” he yelled brokenly and reached for the door handle before tugging on it. His mind berated him for not checking through his peephole to see who it was but right then he found he didn’t really care.

His eyebrows did lift slightly though when he came face to face with Nick Stokes in casual clothes and wearing a determined expression.

“Nick? What’re you doing here?” Jim managed to ask after a moment, cringing slightly at the throaty tone of his own voice.

“I’ve come to hang out…regardless of whether you think that’s a good idea or not.” Nick said and his voice had taken on a no nonsense tone, something that was occurring more and more recently, that Jim found himself stepping back slightly to open the door further despite his misgivings.

“Did Catherine send you?” Jim asked exasperated as Nick strolled past him heading into the living room. The younger man turned to him with an eyebrow raised and settled himself into a corner of the sofa.

“Why would Catherine send me?” he asked genuinely confused.

“Why would you come here on your own?” Jim retorted.

“Because you’re my friend and you’re going through Hell.” Nick said with an honest look on his face.

Jim never had time to wipe the slightly stunned look off his own face and found himself sitting down at the other end of the sofa in bemusement. Nodding to himself Nick twisted slightly to retrieve a bag that Jim hadn’t noticed the man had and pulled out a bottle of scotch.

“Now I’m not recommending getting rat-assed or anything but you didn’t strike me as a simple Bud lite kinda guy.” Nick said with some of his more recognisable softness in his voice, nervousness probably now that he had practically bulldozed his way into Jim Brass’s home.

Jim stared at him for a minute before clearing his throat. “No I…I do drink it too.”

He watched the younger man fiddle with the lid for a moment before he managed to find his voice again.

“Nick, you don’t need to be here. It’s okay, I was just sleeping anyway.”

Nick continued to screw the lid off but he was watching Jim from the corner of his eyes as he did so, a solemn look crossing his features. He glanced back down again at the bottle nonchantly.

“Kinda hard to sleep when you wake yourself up every few minutes with memories you’d rather forget.”

Jim managed to keep his features schooled this time in a calm manner.

“You been watching me Stokes?” he asked feeling a twinge of guilt at the defensiveness that crept in to his tone.

Nick had finally managed to remove the bottle top and placed both bottle and lid onto the coffee table before them. He turned slightly then and looked understandably at the currently suspended Captain.

“No…did it myself for a good few months. Still do occasionally. Hearing things in my dreams, seeing things that I’m not entirely sure actually happened or whether my minds added them to an already chaotic mess of memories.” Nick said quietly before standing and walking into the kitchen to retrieve a couple of glasses.

Inwardly kicking himself at his lack of tact Jim began to stand but as Nick walked back in he placed a hand on the older man’s shoulder and pushed him gently back into the sofa.

“Nicky, I’m…Jesus, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” Nick held up a hand and Jim had to swallow down a wave of grief as a flash of Bell’s wife doing the same flickered across his mind.

“Brass…Jim, hush. This isn’t about me this is about you. Those guys at the Precinct can say what they want but you’re hurting too. I just…I thought…” Nick twirled the bottle between his hands lightly before inhaling, “whenever I’m having a hard time you seem to know what to do. Plus I still owe you one since…since Crane so I thought that this time…I could be here for you.”

Jim could feel his hands trembling again but firmly told himself that now wasn’t the time to let out his grief. He wasn’t going to cry in front of Nick Stokes, the boy didn’t deserve that kind of maudlin behaviour.

But a part of him knew that that was Captain Brass talking. Captain Brass is a hard assed Cop with a dry sense of humour and a sharp wit.

Jim Brass though currently felt like the World was pushing down heavily on his shoulders, pushing heavily at his heart and Jim Brass could feel himself tremble moreso when Nick Stokes looked at him with nothing but compassion.

Captain Brass had seen Nick Stokes cry, both when he kicked down a door to get to him before a mad stalker could kill him and when Nick Stokes had endured a torture Brass wouldn’t wish on even his worst enemies.

So Jim Brass thought, what the Hell. If Nick Stokes, the Texas ‘Don’t-fuck-with-me-or-I’ll-pin-you-to-a-wall’ cowboy, could cry why the Hell couldn’t he?

So he couldn’t resist when he felt his eyes get glassy, even if he did still hide behind his hand. He may be letting himself mourn a little in front of Nick but that didn’t make him feel any less embarrassed about it.

It didn’t seem to matter much though once he felt an arm come around his shoulders and Jim leant into the body that now drew him closer into a warmth he hadn’t felt for a long time.

(Tbc)

An: Okay people. How is this? You like? I want to see more Brass/Nick!

My longest one shot, score!

2006-03-02T20:44:34Z

AN: Okay, this is going to be a fic where the Stokes know Nick’s sexuality, some perfectly fine, some uncomfortable. This is focusing on those strange relationships we have with our siblings (anyone who has them knows what I mean!).
Plus in the CSI companion booklet there was this quote from George Eads, which made me think that even if Jillian Stokes was uncomfortable with Nick’s preferences she’s, still be there for him (Eads was talking about Nick’s confession to Catherine in Overload):

/Eads recalls making a very ‘method’ alteration in Nick’s pained recollection, having him say that on the night of the abusive incident, he waited for his MOTHER – not his parents – to get home.
“Nick probably grew up with a ‘classically dysfunctional’ relationship with his father…whereas I think it was Nick’s mother who he asked about sex and his depression. The mother is the one who nurtured this tough kid who has a tough dad.”/

On with the Story.

****************************

Close Range

Greg stumbled a little as he lifted his case out of the trunk of the rented car, resting it at his feet a moment before puffing up his cheeks and lifting it again. He tottered forwards before dropping it again to catch his breath then repeated the motion until he was standing next to a bemused Nick.

“I did ask if you wanted me to carry that for you, you know.” Nick said pointing at the bulging case now in between them on the Stokes front deck.

Greg frowned as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

“Nick, I’m meeting your family for the first time…I am NOT having you carrying my cases as though I’m a girl.”

Smirking for a second before quickly adopting a serious face Nick tried to look understanding. Greg rolled his eyes.

“Oh shut up.” He muttered making Nick chuckle.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking something mean.”

“No evidence of that Greggo, as a CSI…”

“Do you want wild monkey sex some time this year?” Greg asked crossing his arms over his chest.

Nick held up a finger, his mouth still open before he closed it with a snap and nodded.

“Then what do you do?”

“Be…quiet?” Nick asked raising his eyebrows and Greg smirked.

“Good boy.”

“Woof.” Nick deadpanned before, hesitating only for a moment, he lifted a fist and knocked at the door. He could hear the usual pandemonium from behind the glass and could just make out his mother yelling that she’d be ‘Just a minute. CALEB, DOOR!’

Greg watched Nick anxiously from the corner of his eye. He bounced nervously on the heels of his Converse trainers and kept clenching his fists then opening them again. It had been bad enough coming to Texas, people staring at him in his Surf brand clothes and walking (hiding) timidly behind Nick. He had visions of whips and pitchforks coming at him before Nick scoffed at him with a ‘Well as long as you don’t try and hump their leg I think you’ll be ok.’

His attention was drawn back to the door as it flew open. He stared at the Rodeo t-shirt in front of him before lifting his gaze a little and looked into the face of a taller, older version of Nick. The difference between his Nick and this clone was that whilst Nick’s hair was growing out his double’s was curling slightly around his ears. There was the hint of stubble on the man’s cheeks and instead of Nick’s brown, almost black eyes he was met with a warm blue.

“Hey baby Brother!” the Doppelganger cried before tugging on Nick’s arm and grabbed him in a hug. Nick returned it just as fiercely and they did the typical straight man tap on the back before pulling apart.

“Hey Caleb.” Nick said chuckling slightly as his older brother smirked then turned his gaze on his brother’s companion.

“You must be Greg Sanders.” Caleb said and Greg could’ve sworn the ground shook with how deep this guys voice was. He managed a nod and just about hung onto the little squeak that was threatening to get out.

‘PLEASE let him be one of the cool members of this family.’ He thought not liking the odds of himself and the titan in a fight.

“Hey I’m Caleb Stokes.” Nick’s brother said and held out his hand with a friendly smile. Relieved Greg took the hand and let his arm be tossed up and down in what resembled a shake.

“Hi.” He said finally getting his voice back.

“Mom in?” Nick asked picking up his own bag and walking past his brother.

“Yeah kitchen mate. Oh hey, lemme get that for you.” Caleb grabbed Greg’s bag and lifted it effortlessly. He started in and Greg, shoulders slumping briefly in defeat, followed closing the door behind him.

“NICK’S HERE!” Caleb called as he dumped the bag next to Nick’s in the hallway. Nick yelled out a greeting and was met with several disembodied replies. Caleb seemed to follow some of the voices and went into the living room.

Looking over his shoulder Nick stopped with his hands in his pockets and turned to Greg.

“You all right?” he asked softly as he stepped forwards, out of the living room doorway so they weren’t on show to the family. He placed a hand on Greg’s arm soothingly and rubbed it a couple of times. Leaning briefly into the touch Greg nodded.

“Yeah…your brothers tall.” He said and Nick chuckled as he stroked a hand over his boyfriend’s cheek.

“Yeah, totally sucks. Hate being shorter than him.”

“Yeah well I needed a beer rest and so God gave me you.” Caleb said as he strolled past to get into the kitchen chuckling at his own joke.

“Shaddup!” Nick cried after him and Greg fought down the image of a five year old Nick saying the same thing. He felt a smile breaking through his nervousness for the first time.

“Nicky? You there? Come in and help me for a second.” Greg assumed that was Nick’s mothers voice and followed his lover as the Texan smiled at him gently, quickly grabbed his hand to tug him slightly before going on into the kitchen. Giving himself a moment the blonde then followed.

He gaped.

Now he knew the house was going to have to be big, it held seven original children as it was and adding their spouses with kids of their own and you knew space was going to be an issue.

But the kitchen.was.HUGE! It looked like one of those Mexican kitchens with terracotta walls and white floors. There was a large island stretched through the middle with various bowls, appliances, cutting boards and tools were resting. There was a modern cooker and hob set taking up nearly one shorter row of counters and across from it was the other appliances such as washing machines and dishwashers. In the centre of the longest wall was a fireplace where Greg imagined a cauldron would sit but there was only odd bits and pieces in there, such as lines of herbs stretched from side to side and two spare wooden chairs, a worn cuddly lion sitting on one with his head tilted.

Sub-consciously Greg mirrored the action with his own head. His attention though was drawn back into the room when there was a chorus of ‘Nicky!’

“Hello Darling.” Nick’s mother said quietly with a smile as she stepped towards him, wiping her hands on a tea towel and stretching up to kiss him on the cheek.

“Hey momma.” He said with his patented dimple grin. Patting his cheek she then turned her attention to the twitchy young man staring around the room nervously. His eyes finally settled on her and he tried for a smile but only made himself look more frightened.

Greg had glimpsed her briefly when she was in Vegas during Nick’s…kidnapping. He remembered looking between the two parents and noting that Nick obviously took after his mother with his deep brown hair and kind eyes. He also remembered how heart-broken this woman had been, willing to give up everything she owned to have her boy back.

“Is he always this jumpy looking?” Jillian Stokes said in a stage whisper out of the corner of her mouth leaning her head towards Nick. Playing along Nick answered in a similar way.

“Usually takes a roll of duck tape to shut him up. You’ve obviously still got it.”

“Oh good,” Jillian said happily, “It’s nice to know that you can still intimidate your kids significant others. Greg dear, relax, I won’t bite.”

A voice from across the room uttered through a mouthful of food, “Nah, that’ll be Dad later.”

“Hush Jenna. Jillian Stokes.” Nick’s mom said holding out her hand and relaxing a little Greg shook her hand.

“Greg Sanders.”

“Hallelujah, it talks!”

“Jenna! Don’t be rude.”

Greg risked a glance over to the end of the island and found two brunettes smirking at him wickedly. He gulped.

Frowning Nick casually tossed an apple at the two harpies causing one to hiss and the other to simply catch the apple and take a bite.

“Greg, these two evil doers are my sisters Jenna and Mary-Kate.”

“I prefer MK if you don’t mind.” The shortest of the pair piped up.

“Oh, um okay.” Greg took in the sight of Nick’s sisters again. These two were obviously twins but Jenna had her hair cut short (in an almost Rock chick style that Greg silently admired) and MK wore her hair long. Both had the same brown eyes their brother and mother had and were both very easy on the eyes.

“Is everyone in this house attractive?” he mused before realising he’d spoken out loud and clapped a hand over his mouth. The sisters perked up and Caleb stopped mid chew through a pear. All three smirked.

“Oh he’s a keeper!”

“My God Nick, you may have actually picked a good one this time.”

“Is it sad that I can get a compliment out of my brother’s boyfriend easier than my wife?”

Nick laughed and tugged Greg’s hand from his mouth to pull him towards a stool at the island. The sisters were still looking at him with a mischievous look in their eyes but seemed to like him well enough. Jillian patted his shoulder as she passed and continued back towards the bowl she’d been stirring.

“How was the flight?” she asked and Caleb yawned purposely earning him a smack across the back of his head.

“Long, boring, you know, usual stuff.” Nick said sitting on a stool next to Greg and discreetly took his hand under the table.

This line of conversation seemed to get everyone back into the topic they’d been in before Nick and Greg had arrived so Nick took the time to have a quiet conversation with his now more relaxed partner.

“Was that so bad?” he asked teasingly and Greg smiled.

“Nah, I really like them. You look a lot like your sisters.”

“Yeah I know…they used to use me for so many make-over experiments.” He groused and Greg laughed squeezing his hand comfortingly. Nick seemed to ponder a moment before sighing.

“These guys are what you can call my ‘accepting’ half. You still have Chrissie, Lori and Kim to meet…and my Dad.”

Greg nodded at Nick’s sombre warning and ran their joined hands in soothing circular motions on Nick’s thigh.

“How bad we talking?” he asked curiously. Nick took a moment to think about it before sighing heavily.

“Lori is my oldest sister so she and Caleb are close. She might be all right with it but then again she might not. She’s never really given me a straight answer on it.”

Greg nodded indicating for Nick to go on.

“Chrissie is married to a Preacher called Hank…guess how that went.” Greg winced as Nick shook his head. “She sure can scream like a banshee when she wants to, telling me I was dirty and sinful. I don’t think she’s here yet other wise we may have been ambushed already. Oh and my Granddad, on my father’s side at least agrees with her.

Kim is…self-centred. Seriously. Always whinging about stuff if it doesn’t land in her lap but not willing to help out anyone else in need.”

Greg cringed a little and waited for Nick to continue. When he didn’t he asked quietly, “And your Dad?”

Nick groaned and let his eyes fall shut.

“He hasn’t disowned me per say but he’s…well I think I’ve disappointed him is all.”

Hating how sad Nick sounded Greg raised their clasped hands and placed a gentle kiss on the back.

“Cooties!”

Nick rolled his eyes but there was a smile on his face so Greg didn’t mind so much being Caleb’s new tease toy.

“So mature.” Nick muttered as he lowered their clasped hands to the tables.

“Caleb make yourself useful for once and take your brother’s and Greg’s bags upstairs.” Jillian said and Caleb made to complain but changed his mind when his mother placed her hands on her hips. He slumped out of the room with his sisters’ jeers behind him, calling mockingly.

“Girls, be nice.” Their mother warned and they fell silent, or as silent as they could as they chuckled.

“Thank you Mrs Stokes.” Greg said sweetly and Jenna gagged.

“Oh that’s okay honey, and call me Jillian if you don’t mind. Mrs Stokes is my mother-in-law…evil witch that she is.” Jillian said as she returned to her stirring. Jenna was laughing uproarisly as MK and Nick berated their mother.

“Momma!”

“You can’t say that Mom!”

“Classic!” Jenna said clapping her hands together and leaning her chair on its hind legs. She swung her booted feet up onto the island but swiftly brought them back down again at her mother’s glare. Greg sniggered as he contently watched the interaction of the family, smiling wider when Caleb returned and rushed at Jenna getting her in a headlock and giving her a nuggy.

“Caleb, gerrof man!” she cried angrily and swung her arms to hit him. MK made a dive towards Nick and Greg, hiding behind them. She peeked from in between their shoulders before looking at Nick with a cheeky smile. He returned it.

“Want to ambush lanky over there?” she said and Nick thought for a moment.

“You know, technically with Greg here I’m supposed to be acting all cool and sexy.”

“Ahh that’ll take ages, come on, while he’s open.”

Nick looked at Greg, looked at his sister, before shrugging, leaned in quickly to give Greg a peck on the cheek and made a charge for his brother with MK beside him giving out what could only be described as a battle cry.

“CHARGE!”

“Oh Crap!”

“Wait, WAIT, Prisoner still in danger!”

“Casualties of War Jen!”

“Nick, Jenna, Mary-Kate, Caleb, STOP THAT!”

“Looks like we have ourselves the making of a pile up here Cal.”

“Nick, I swear man, you…”

“Too late!”

“ARGH!”

“MK, get off you weigh a ton!”

“Greg, Greg jump in!”

“Please don’t Greg.”

“I won’t ma’am.”

“You know,” Jillian said with a suffering sigh as she watched her three youngest squash her oldest, “You always hold onto the dream they’ll grow out of it.”

****************************************

“Sorry babe but Momma says that there’s no way Dad would agree to us sharing a room whilst we’re down here.” Nick said as he sat on his bed beside Greg brushing fingers through the slightly curling blond hair of his boyfriend’s hair. Greg grabbed his wrist and tugged it to his mouth to kiss it.

“It’s okay, I’m just glad I seem to have some of your family on my side.”

Nick chuckled and shook his head at the memory of Greg gently poking the Stokes pile up with a broom his Mom had given him.

“I think Momma was just glad to have some help.” Nick said flopping back arms wide on his bed. Greg followed and curled an arm around Nick’s waist, head resting on his shoulder and stroking his fingers on Nick’s hip.

“Well Jenna was sitting on you so I thought I’d better play your Knight in Shining Armour.”

Nick chuckled again and turned to face Greg. He kissed the first thing he could find and brushed his lips over Greg’s brow. The blonde murmured happily and leant up slightly to press his lips to his boyfriend’s questing ones. They lost themselves temporarily, Nick’s hand reaching up to circle Greg’s cheek and they shifted so Nick was partially over him.

Greg slipped curious hands under Nick’s tee then pulled them out again to run them over his lover’s broad back.

“Now you’re REALLY gonna catch cooties.”

They pulled apart shocked and Nick twisted slightly to see his brother there making gagging motions with his fingers.

“GET OUT JACKASS!” Nick yelled indignantly as Caleb rolled his eyes. Greg blushed furiously and hid his face in Nick’s arm.

“What? Not like I haven’t seen it all before…granted you were dating girls then but seriously, you need to get a lock for your door.”

“KNOCK YOU DICK!”

“Fine, fine we were both in the wrong. Just came in to tell you Dad’s arrived and so have our daaarling sister and brother in law.”

Nick fell silent despite his hand was still pointing at the door. He curled his pointed finger into a fist and lowered it to his lap.

“She brought Hank?” he asked quietly and for the first time Greg could see the more serious side of Caleb come out as he nodded. He crossed his arms over his chest and jerked his head to motion behind him.

“Don’t worry, I think Greg here has pretty much won the girls over and Mom is ready to adopt him after his helpful hand downstairs,” (Greg beamed happily), “So if worst comes to worst we’ll sick Jenna on them.”

Nick groaned and dropped backwards onto the mattress again. Greg watched sympathetically as Nick threw an arm over his face and looking up he nodded at Caleb to say he’d take it from here. Caleb gave him a wink and left with a soft click of the door.

“I really can’t be doing with her today. She isn’t going to help anything and I KNOW she’ll say awful things to you, she always does.” His arm muffled Nick’s voice and gently Greg pulled it away to rest over the chiselled chest.

“Hey,” he said softly stroking Nick’s fringe out of his face, “ I can handle a few words. I know I’m a good person and I certainly know YOU’RE a good person so one fanatics opinion, sister or not, isn’t going to change the fact that I KNOW with everything in me that what we have is so right.”

Nick looked up at Greg, stunned momentarily before he reached up and brought their lips together in a searing kiss.

“I love you.”

“I know.”

*******************************************

They bounded down the stairs, conversations filtering in from the living room into the hallway and taking a moment to gather themselves (and not look like they’d been interrupted whilst making out) they stepped into the room.

Jenna and MK had sprawled themselves on the floor with what must’ve been two nephews and a niece drawing. Caleb was sharing a chair with a blonde woman squished into his side (‘His wife’ Greg guessed) and felt safe for a moment as they grinned and waved. Then he looked around at the rest of the group.

A female version of Caleb was sitting on the arm of the sofa, a glass of some drink lightly clasped in her hand resting on her thigh. She looked stern but kind, her blue eyes surveying Greg and after a moment she seemed to give a curt nod and the smallest of smiles. This must be Lori.

Beside her was Jillian smiling at the boys as they entered and waved at Greg who returned it. Next to her was a well-manicured, beautifully groomed young woman who had her arms crossed over her shoulders like a petulant child. She threw a look at the pair, rolled her eyes and let out a dramatic sigh.

Ah…Kim it was then.

Now Greg felt more of a chill as he looked at the last of Nick’s sisters. Clearly he’d been wrong with the ‘everyone being attractive’ comment. It wasn’t that Chrissie was ugly, oh no she still had the strong cheekbones of a Stokes, and the same mahogany glossy hair that all the Stokes women seemed to have. But her eyes, as blue as her fathers, were ice.cold.

She had stress lines around her eyes and mouth, her face set into a grim look when relaxed and she wore heavy dominating black colours that didn’t flatter her. Behind her was a man not much better off than her. His eyes were hateful when they landed on Greg and Nick and his grip tightened on his wife’s shoulder as though preparing to pull her to safety if either of the men before then tried to touch her.

Ignoring the vibes coming from them Greg finally rested his eyes on the Man of the Household. Judge Bill Stokes didn’t have his sons impressive builds but he stood tall and powerful none the less. His eyes were a strange sort of medium between the warmth his son had and the coldness his daughter had. Lori clearly took after her father.

Deciding to take initiative Greg nodded his head at the Judge politely.

“Hello Sir.” He said quietly and for a brief moment Mr Stokes said nothing until a discreet kick in the ankle from his wife prompted the man to nod back.

“Mr Sanders.” He said before grabbing his glass and walked into the kitchen. Greg looked at Nick apologetically but Nick’s eyes were soft with understanding and he shook his head minutely, silently telling his lover not to worry.

Lori stood looking after her father before she turned her attention to the younger men. She nodded briefly before following her father.

“So, you’re gay too then?”

Greg quirked an eyebrow and looked over at Kim who was looking at him as though he was nothing more than a mildly interesting programme. Jenna and MK were staring at her with ‘duh’ faces.

“Um…kinda, I’m Bisexual.” He said quietly and Nick caught his arm to drag him towards the vacated space on the sofa. He settled the nervous blonde onto the sofa and sat beside him on the arm like his sister had.

“Hey, you say tomato…” Kim said rolling her eyes.

He wasn’t sure but Greg was pretty sure he heard MK mutter something about ‘brain cells’ and ‘too much hair dye’ to her twin. Whatever she said was enough to make one of the nephews giggle. He turned his head slightly to see Nick’s face but his lover’s gaze was settled unwaveringly on his brother in law across the room.

It was weird to watch if he was honest. Looking back and forwards between the two he was pretty sure there was some dominant male vibe going between them. Hank clearly looked fit to burst, wanting to say something but Nick had that look in his eyes that he’d never seen but had heard Sara talk about it having witnessed it when Nick confronted a teenager to a little girls whereabouts in an interrogation.

Whatever was happening it seemed enough for now. Chrissie and Hank held their tongues despite being red in the face. Probably helped that Caleb was giving them a similar look.

“Who wants drinks?” MK said suddenly and a little bit of tension eased. There were several agreements and jumping up MK and the niece went into the kitchen to get the orders.

Nick’s hand was grasping Greg’s tense shoulder, rubbing back and forwards comfortingly making Greg lean into him slightly.

“Aw see now why aren’t you and me like that anymore?”

Turning his attention to Caleb he smiled when he watched his blonde haired wife give him a semi-amused look with a quirked eyebrow.

“Because I’m embarrassed to be seen with such an old man in public.” She retorted and Greg smiled as Nick snorted in amusement. Caleb pouted and jerked a thumb at his wife.

“That’s what I call tough love.”

Laughing his wife leant towards Greg. She had gentle hazel eyes that were framed with the elegant layered cut she wore her hair in and there were light freckles dotted over her nose. Her hands were soft as she took Greg’s hand in hers.

“Tiffany Stokes, nice to meet you Greg. It’s nice to meet the other half of the other Stokes man, finally someone I can gripe with when they’re being ‘menly men’.”

Greg laughed and shook her hand before they both settled back into their spaces.

“Caleb think he could play Football professionally as well then?” he joked earning him a prod from a frowning Nick.

“We could.” Caleb said lifting his beer bottle from the side table and pointed at Nick with one eye closed. Nick returned the gesture.

Both Tiffany and Greg rolled their eyes.

“Like you can say anything Mr ‘I-could’ve-been-a-Rock-Star’.” Nick retorted, Jillian chuckling as she stood to go help in the kitchen.

“I could’ve!” Greg cried indignantly and chuckling Nick kissed his hairline.

“Urgh!”

They both looked up in time to see Chrissie storm from the room. Hank stayed for a moment, hands clenched at his sides and opened his mouth to speak but instead jumped (like everyone else in the room) when Caleb slammed his bottle down on the table and stood to his full height. He never said a word but his face seemed to give Hank enough to go with and the Preacher left begrudgingly.

“Kill Cal Kill, go on, sniff him out, there’s a good boy.” Jenna said not looking up from the colouring book she was doodling in, her words muffled from the hand cupping her chin partially over her mouth. She then snarled and yipped.

The two remaining children giggled.

“Thanks Cal.” Nick said smiling solemnly at his brother.

“Why did Auntie Chris leave Daddy?” one of the Nephews said as he clamoured up to stand. He wrestled his way onto Tiffany’s lap dangling his feet over the edge of the sofa.

“Because she’s got a cucumber shoved up her…”

“JENNA! Eric, you remember what I told you about Auntie Jenna?”

“Never listen to anything she says because she needs to have her mouth washed out with soap?”

“Yes, apply it here.”

“Okay...but why though?” Eric contented himself with swinging his legs. Caleb managed to peel some of his bottle label off and threw it at his sister. She growled and smirked at him.

“Because Auntie Chrissie doesn’t believe that me loving Greg is a good thing.” Nick offered as he watched his two siblings reverted back to being five year olds.

“But Greg’s a boy!” the other nephew on the floor cried.

“Yes I am, is there a problem?” Greg said smiling at him and the little boy cocked his head confused.

“I thought boys kissed girls,” he said sticking his tongue out as though it was a gross idea.

“They do George, but sometimes older boys prefer kissing other older boys.” MK said, jumping into the conversation as she entered the room with a tray of drinks, her little niece hanging onto her skirt as she followed.

“Why?” she asked in the tiniest voice that if Greg had the ability too, would make him want to get pregnant straight away.

“Because it feels nice Lizzie.” Nick said. Greg felt himself blushing and covered his face with his hand, trying to ignore Tiffany’s sniggers.

“But kissing’s disgusting.” George said followed with a “Yuck!”

“I’ll remember that you said that when you’re 16 and bringing home all kinds of trailer trash.”

“What’s Trailer Trash?” Lizzie said and Caleb groaned and dropped backwards.

“Round and round it goes…”

*****************************************

Greg heaved his luggage onto Nick’s bed, taking a moment to look around as his boyfriend was down in his sister’s room unpacking. Jillian had forced him to give up his bed for their guest but obviously with Caleb’s wife being there as well Nick was forced to crash on the Twin’s floor.

He smiled at the childhood posters still on the walls, various Football players and movie posters dotted here and there. There was a pin board on one wall with old photos, a much younger Nick, college years probably, grinning up at him with various friends. One with them all holding a pint each, one of him and a baseball team, A set of photo-booth images that made him laugh out loud as Nick and some black haired guy pulled various faces. Folded up notes pinned to the board, a letter of acceptance to Texas A&M, An Aggies logo, all sorts of little nit bits.

He moved back to the bed and sat down, jumping with the springs a little and smiled to himself. He really liked most of the family, okay Judge and Lori Stokes seemed a little intimidating but that’s because they simply oozed power. Kim was a little prissy but she seemed harmless, a Drama Queen at most and it made Greg laugh to imagine Nick having a sister like that.

Chrissie however, she made him uncomfortable. And Hank! Man, was he edgy. Greg was just grateful to have both of the Stokes brothers on his side. Granted he was dating one but either way, they seemed to be top dogs here.

Jenna and MK he had practically fallen in love with. Jenna seemed to like playing the rebel but she didn’t over do it, she was simply…cool! Greg could imagine her riding fearlessly on horseback, laughing wildly and chasing terrified men off her land. And MK was just so laid back, more like Nick but as a girl. If he wasn’t already in love with her brother he could’ve easily have fallen for her.

And Caleb seemed to know and enjoyed being the eldest. He picked on them all good-naturedly but the minute one of his underlings was under threat his genetic older brother gene kicked in. It was nice as well, to see Nick and Caleb so close. He’d heard stories of eldest and youngest children not being as close due to the age gap but he guessed being the only two boys with five sisters gave them a special bond. Plus his wife Tiffany seemed a suitable ally, spouses sticking together against the underlining discreet madness this family possessed.

Greg was pulled out of his thoughts when there was a knock at the door. Grinning he jumped up and rushed to the door wrenching it open.

His heart leapt into his throat.

Chrissie and Hank stood on the other side, stern expressions cold and Greg screamed in his head.

“Is Nick in there?” Chrissie said and Greg noted how clipped and almost nasally her voice sounded. How the Hell was this girl related to his beautiful man?

“Um, no he’s in Jenna’s and MK’s room.” He said, voice cracking slightly as his mouth went dry.

“Oh right.” She said and pushed past him into the room, Hank following her but avoided touching Greg altogether.

“Close the door Mr Sanders.” She said and Greg hesitated before shaking his head.

“No thank you, I’d prefer to leave it open, it’s a little stuffy in he…” his sentence was cut off when Hank bounded across the room and slammed the door closed.

‘Nick! Nick get back here!’ Greg thought, eyes widening slightly as crossed his arms over his chest defensively.

“Can I help you?” he croaked and Hank looked down at him distastefully.

“You are a sinner Mr Sanders.” He said as though what he’d just said was all empowering, the words of the Lord himself speaking through him.

Greg couldn’t have stopped his eyes from rolling in boredom even if he tried.

“Oh, it’s THAT kind of conversation then.” He muttered and settled himself onto Nick’s bed. He took a small victory in the fact that Chrissie looked enraged that he would so casually sit on her brother’s bed.

“What you are is against the Lord’s will and I will not let you taint this family with it. Chris and I won’t allow it!” Hank said standing tall and Greg couldn’t help thinking ‘Caleb does that better’.

“I’m gay, not a leper. It’s not contagious.” He said in a tone that suggested he’s said this to someone before.

“You are disgusting! What you do with other men, lying with them as though you are a woman, it’s wrong against everything that’s natural.” Hank said pointing a finger at him and just to piss him off Greg knocked his hand away angrily. He watched as the Preacher jumped back.

‘Ha ha touched you!’ Greg thought with a smirk.

“Homosexuality isn’t a disease, a person is born with it, and nothing changes that. God creates everyone so obviously he put those feelings there. Can’t argue with the big guy if he made the merchandise.”

“HOW DARE YOU SHOW SUCH DISRESPECT!” Chrissie screeched and suddenly Greg understood Nick’s banshee comment.

“Say it don’t spray it.” Greg muttered as he rubbed his ears.

“God would never create such atrocities, it is the Devil that puts these feelings in people like you!” Chrissie said joining her husband in pointing at the seated blonde and suddenly Greg had to fight down the urge to laugh.

It was like something out of a Monty Python sketch.

“Wasn’t it like 60 years ago people were saying the same thing about black people?” Greg mused aloud and crossed his arms over his chest more arrogantly. “I mean, now it’s a sue able thing to call someone a…you know, the N word.”

For a sweet moment neither of the couple said anything but it didn’t last.

“Stop dragging Nick down with you, let him find redemption for his soul before it is too late.” Chrissie demanded as she glared at Greg.

“Sorry to disappoint you but Nick was otherwise inclined before he met me.”

“LIES! You are a dirty sinful liar and you will burn in Hell.”

“Do you think I’ll tan well?”

“You think this is a joke? Your Soul is destined to burn in the Fires of Hell, to be tortured for all eternity!” Hank cried and Greg groaned as he ran a hand through his hair frustratingly.

“And you think bigoted assholes like yourselves are going to be greeted with open arms?” he threw back at them.

It was like watching a car crash. Time slowed and you realised that you should’ve maybe had hit the brakes before suddenly you’re another casualty to the Highway build up.

He managed to duck slightly before Hank’s fist collided with his face, hitting his forehead rather than his eye but he still was sent reeling back. Chrissie had screamed and as Greg fell to the floor he caught the door opening and watched as two people entered.

Dazedly he realised that the one that had lunged at Hank was Caleb, his fist drawn back and there was a sickening crunch of bone on bone. The other figure leapt at him and lifted his unresponsive body slightly so his head was in a warm lap.

“Greg, Jesus Christ, Greg!” he recognised Nick’s voice as familiar hands brushed hair out of his eyes, tenderly touching the already forming bruise. He managed a moan and buried his head further into Nick’s lap.

“God DAMMIT!” Jenna’s voice entered into the fray and Greg watched as she leapt onto the once again standing Hank, Caleb catching him around the waist to bring him back down. Chrissie was screaming and beating her brother’s shoulders.

“Jenna, Cal stop it!” Nick was yelling but not moving from his place with Greg. He could vaguely hear the sound of thundering feet as more people made their way upstairs but by this time Caleb had Hank’s arms pinned behind his back and was roughly pushing him out of the room. He listened as Hank yelled all the way down the stairs until he heard the front door open, Nick’s parents shouting and could distinctly hear Caleb shout “And stay out!” before the door slammed again.

“CALEB! HOW COULD YOU? HE’S MY HUSBAND!” Chrissie was yelling from the doorway but she was whirled round roughly to face Jenna who pointed a threatening finger at her.

“If you can’t act like the sister you’re supposed to be then fuck off!” she hissed and Chrissie glared back at her as Jillian and Bill Stokes entered the room. Jillian surveyed the room, the mess on the floor from the fight, Jenna’s clothes all mussed up and Greg on the floor with Nick soothingly speaking to him, stroking his face.

“What the HELL is going on in here?” Jillian said angrily and instantly the two sisters fell silent, Nick freezing and Caleb pausing on his way into the room with the rest of the family standing in the doorway. The only sound that broke through the tense silence was the pounding on the front door.

Jillian moved her angry gaze over each of her involved children before she moved towards Greg who tried to push himself up but found it too nauseating so fell back down.

“Hmm? Well?” She said sharply placing a hand on Greg’s shoulders to keep him down. “I don’t care what you do but the minute a guest in OUR house is found on the floor with an injury inflicted by one of MY own I damn well make it my business. Do I make myself clear? I will NOT tolerate this kind of behaviour! I didn’t raise you this way!”

The guilty silence continued as Jillian looked down at Greg than at Nick.

“There’s some aspirin in the bathroom cabinet and a bottle of TCP. Go fetch it and we’ll sort him out.” She said softly and gently moved Greg’s head from Nick’s lap to her shoulder.

As Nick left her thunderous look returned as she stood aiding the semi-conscious young man to the bed.

“Get out all of you. You’d better have a damn good excuse when I get downstairs otherwise they’ll be Hell to pay. Out!”

The Stokes jumped to it and left quickly, Bill stepping out of the way and cautiously stepped forwards. He went to open his mouth but Jillian glared him down.

“If you say anything you’d better make it good. I’m tired of fighting with you over this, he is your SON!”

Bill froze and Jillian’s eyes widened slightly when she noticed Nick standing behind him looking stunned. However she maintained her pride and lifted her chin slightly.

“Well William?” she said and Judge Stokes shifted restlessly before nodding. The smallest of smirks came to his face.

“Knew there was a reason I married you.” He said suggestively and Jillian blushed as Nick made a gag face.

Whirling round Bill patted Nick’s shoulder as he left.

“I’ll speak to Hank.” He said and left the room, tugging the door closed behind him.

Nick stared at it, shocked by the recent developments of the last five minutes but shook himself out of it when he heard Greg groan. He moved quickly over to the bed and handed his mother the diluted TCP.

“Is he ok?” he asked shakily and Jillian nodded as she dabbed a cloth at the small cut where the bruise was forming.

“He’s fine, probably just took a harder knock than we thought.” She said kindly and watched as Nick stroked Greg’s cheek, his lip shaking ever so slightly, almost invisibly.

“This wasn’t how it was meant to go.” He said his voice cracking.

“It’s okay sweetie, he’s okay.” She said reaching up to brush the hair out of Nick’s eyes. “You’re hairs getting long,” she added quietly. Nick didn’t even hear her.

“I hate her, I HATE Chrissie!” he said brokenly and Jillian closed her eyes.

“No you don’t sweetie, you don’t really. You just don’t see eye to eye.”

“No, I hate her, she always does this! Everytime!”

“Once!” Jillian said cupping Nick’s cheek, “it happened once and if he wasn’t prepared to stay then he wasn’t worth your time.”

“It was HER husband that scared him, HER that said those awful things, HER church friend that babysat…” he stopped abruptly and shook his head to clear it.

Greg listened, his eyes closed as he felt Nick move to lie beside him. Jillian seemed to have fallen silent and he could feel the movement as she stroked her son’s hair before she got up and left. He listened for the click as the door closed before he carefully opened his eyes, still feeling a little dizzy but better than before.

“Nicky?” he whispered and Nick buried closer to him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think she’d actually…” Greg placed a hand over Nick’s mouth and sighed.

“It’s okay, something was bound to happen. You couldn’t be with me all the time.”

Nick grunted and buried his face into Greg’s shoulder. “I’m still sorry.”

“Well…you could always make it up to me later…when we’re back in Las Vegas.” He said in a low voice and smiled as he felt Nick give a watery chuckle.

“Promise.”

“Good, now smile for me.”

***************************************

The rest of the weekend seemed to pass considerably quieter than that first day. Whatever Jillian Stokes had said to her family seemed to reign in any negative feelings, at least out in the open. Chrissie came over occasionally, still glaring at Greg and husbandless at the dinner table before hacking as she put a piece of chicken covered in pepper in her mouth (never noticing the innocent whistling coming from MK as she quickly stashed something up her sleeve that looked remarkably like a shaker).

Greg, now sporting a large purple bruise on his upper eye and forehead, seemed to be in better spirits. He had found himself connecting with George, Eric and Lizzie better than Nick could’ve hoped to the point they called him Uncle Greg (although helping them to steal cookies and set booby traps probably bumped him up in their books).

Plus Jenna and Tiffany seemed to had made themselves Greg’s bodyguards. Caleb found it all very amusing of course and continued to tease Greg but later found himself face down on the floor, his wife sitting on his back and his sister pulling his legs back in a torturous motion. After that it seemed a little less funny.

Lori had actually uttered some words, making a minor joke saying Greg could tell some elaborate story about fights with big bikers when he got home and Greg discovered a shy but proud young woman in her.

Kim offered him make up tips to cover it, which he supposed was nice even if she did go on to say that maybe he should try more facial care as he was beginning to ‘droop under the eyes’.

At least she was trying.

MK of course continued to be her pleasant self with him, telling him all kinds of embarrassing stories about Nick’s younger days and, with the aid of her mother, went through the photo albums with him even offering him a picture of a smiling four year old Nicky wearing his Uncle’s Forest Ranger hat and aviators.

Briefly he wondered how much Nick would hurt him if he blew it up and put it around the lab.

….

…Nah wasn’t worth not having sex for months.

Bill Stokes however seemed to hover on his opinion. One minute he’s be friendly, not overly chatty but polite all the same and the next he’d hesitate, not sure what to do.

Deciding this was better than he could’ve hoped, Greg was pleased he’d talked Nick into letting him meet his family.

But Monday had come round again and the two men were packing their cases ready to head to the airport to make the journey back home. Greg dragged his case down the stairs, heaving as he went but absolutely refusing to let MK help as she strolled down after him.

“I mean I could hold one end and you could hold the other.”

“No,” he said huffing as he went step by step, “I’m a man! I can do this.”

MK rolled her eyes and laughed lightly.

Finally making it to the bottom he let the straps go with a happy sigh and watched as Nick trotted down a moment later, bag slung over his shoulder.

“Ready?” he asked when he’d gotten to the bottom and Greg nodded.

“Yeppers!”

Chuckling Nick grabbed his hand after dumping his bag by Greg’s and they entered the living room.

“We’re off now.” He said and everyone stood from their various seats to say their goodbyes.

“Been fun Greg, do you do birthdays and Barmitzas too?” Caleb said shaking his hand vigorously as he slapped him playfully on the back.

“Yeah but I don’t come cheap.”

“Was nice meeting you Greg,” Tiffany said hugging him, “You’ll have to come stay with us some time.”

Greg returned the hug and nodded happily. He tried not to topple as the three kids hugged his leg and ignored Nick’s snort of amusement as he said goodbye to his own brother.

“Pleasure meeting you Greg.” Lori said shaking his hand lightly and he returned the sentiment and, going on a whim, kissed the back of her hand. He gloated inwardly when she blushed.

“Remember those tips Greg, you have such nice skin it’ll be a shame to see it age before its time.” Kim said pinching his cheek roughly and he jerked as politely as he could out of her grasp.

“Yes, thank you.” He muttered a little put out before he continued onto the twins. He yelped when he was pulled into a three-way hug and gingerly patted each back as they practically choked him.

“Call sometime, its gonna get dull around here again without you and Nick providing the drama.” MK said squeezing tightly again before letting him go.

“Sure, and next time I’ll be sure to really bring out the big guns.” He promised and MK laughed.

“Now remember,” Jenna said slinging an arm over his shoulders, “You have any trouble and I’m happy to come down to Vegas to slug them one.”

“Um…sure, thanks Jen.” He said and chuckled nervously. She grinned wickedly at him and winked.

“Anytime.”

He straightened himself out to say his goodbyes to Jillian. She offered him a hug and he lightly kissed her cheek before whispering in her ear.

“Thank you for liking me.”

She laughed and gently slapped his shoulder.

“Well it was hardly a chore Gregory. You just look after my boy you hear?” she said and nodding Greg let himself be patted on the cheek.

Thankfully Chrissie had forgone the goodbyes and wasn’t present. Greg did however blanch when he came face to face with Bill Stokes. He nervously cleared his throat and held out a hand.

“It was an honour meeting you Sir.” He said and after a moment Bill took his offered hand.

“And I you…will you be joining Nick for Christmas?” he asked, granted a little awkwardly but kindly all the same.

“Only if its alright with you Sir.” Greg said holding his breath. From the corner of his eye he could see Nick watching and mentally crossed his fingers.

“…I think we’d like that.” Bill said after a moment and a tension he didn’t realise was there left the room. Chatter picked up again and Greg let his shoulders slump in relief. He even smiled when he saw something like amusement cross the Judge’s face.

Finally they reached the hallway and grabbed their bags, slinging them over their shoulders (Greg just about catching himself before he fell backwards) and made their way to their rental car. Another round of byes were called out as they climbed into the car and they waved as they pulled off, laughing when they watched in the rear view mirror as Jenna mockingly cried after them, chasing them slightly and dropped to her knees in the road letting out a fake maudlin cry.

“You’re family is nuts.” Greg said pleasantly and Nick laughed as he grabbed Greg’s hand keeping the other on the wheel.

“Yes well, you should fit right in then.”

Laughing Greg settled further into the chair, Nick’s hand clasped in both of his and alternatively kissed the palm and played with the fingers as they made their way back home.

It had totally been worth it.

Fin

AN: Dontcha just love that no matter how old you get your older sister will STILL sit on you to prove a point?

…No, I don’t either.

Open Debate

2006-02-06T19:42:00Z

Okay, not overly important but I had a chat with someone today and we were talking about George/Eric and George/Beards! See, the guy I was nattering to was saying that I only thought they're together because I think every guys together (Hey, is it my fault heterosexual men are boring?).
So of course the "Well this evidence here..." debate starts with the aid of these:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v671/Littlewitch13/georgefuny2.jpg

Here, I got cocky. I mean, just LOOK at that! His shoulders are hunched in, a defensive position if I ever saw one, he's striding on ahead, pacing himself away from his delightful beard whereas many other male celebrities would either pose with his heartthrob or, if he didn't want the attention, pull his partner in to move them away quicker. She can barely keep hold of him!

And then we got these:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v671/Littlewitch13/80434fc2.jpg

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v671/Littlewitch13/sag2004_11.jpg

Did you know that subconciously you will turn your body to the most important (to you) person in the room? Well George has got his entire body turned towards Eric, granted Eric's feet are pointing away but his shoulder has dipped leaning into George! In fact, it looks as though he's in the process of turning his upper half fully towards G. And the grip! Now see, I've kidded around and playfought with friends but that is one possesive grip! The line of arms connect, indicating maybe a tug on George's behalf, and that little sneer grin thing! These are two guys who are used to being in close contact frequently!

Now the second one I love! You can definetly tell these three are tight! But I love how if you follow Eric's line of view he's watching George and not Jorja. Again, all bodies have dipped slightly towards one another making a nice snuggly picture and, once again, that oh so lovely touch from George! Interesting isn't it how instead of wrapping his arm or placing his hand on Jorja (and lets face it, someones nibbling your ear, it will be that person you're touching) he instead reaches out for Eric. Possesive again, but in a subtle way! Funny also how it seems George is the one holding back on anything coming out and yet there he is, asserting his place with our lovely Mr Szmanda.

Now...guess who had the most evidence supporting their side! :)

I really need to get a life lol!

Giving In

2006-02-06T18:13:59Z

Giving In

It's time to roll the windows down and

Feel the cold air all around.

We are heading out of town and

Not a thing can stop us now.

Get carried away.

“How about this one?” Nick, on his knees and waist up disappearing into the wardrobe, called as he struggled backwards for a moment. When he’d managed to shuffle back enough he leant back resting his rear on his heels and held up a T-shirt.

Greg, pulled from his rather comfortable viewing point of his lovers backside moving back and forwards in the air, jerked himself away from his gutter thoughts and focused on Nick who was watching him. Reaching over he turned the radio down slightly from the blaring punk song playing and lifted his chin in a silent question.

Slowly taking in the words his boyfriend had said to him he moved his eyes down to the piece of garment in question. Gasping he schooled his features into one of disbelief.

“Are you serious! Are you asking me if I want to throw out a Vintage Clash T-shirt?” Lunging forwards he snatched his shirt out of Nick’s now lax hand and clutched it tightly to his chest.

Rolling his eyes Nick let out a sigh and settled back onto the floor behind him.

“Greg, it was your idea to give some clothes away to charity, your idea to clear out some of the closet space so you’re going to have to part with something. Anyway, I haven’t seen you wear that thing in years.”

“I meant your clothes.” Greg mumbled quietly and held the shirt closer.

“Sorry?”

“Nothing.”

Frowning Nick gave a disbelieving noise but let it go. Pushing up he walked on his knees back to the cupboard and crawled in again. Voice muffled by the walls he called back “Well then you come in here and pick something.”

“Aw but I just got you out of the closet, now I have to go back in with you?” Sighing in mock-exasperation Greg stood up not noticing Nick’s frowning face peeking out at him or the hand he was twitching towards Greg’s ankle.

He looked down in time to see the hand wrap around his leg before it was pulled out from under him and he fell backwards. Landing with an ‘Oof’ onto a pile of already vetoed clothes he silently stared up at the ceiling before lifting his head enough to find Nick grinning at him.

“I am so not putting out tonight.”

Snorting and quirking an eyebrow Nick shook his head slightly.

“That won’t last.”

“Oh you’d better believe it!”

Nick pretended to gasp in shock.

“Yeah, see all this, and this? You ain’t getting none of it tonight.” Greg said gesturing to himself and pointing to his backside.

“But what if I was to suddenly find myself getting all hot and tired,” Nick said stretching slightly so his shirt rode up a bit, “and the only way to cool off was to take off my hot, sweaty shirt and snuggle into that nice big bed of ours?”

To emphasize his point Nick fanned himself and tugged the bottom of his shirt up slowly, hiding his smirk when Greg’s eyes locked on the revealing skin.

It took a moment but Greg eventually shook his head and frowned.

“Dammit!”

FIN

AN: A tad pointless but it was one of those strange scenes that struck me at college. Fluffy McFluff Fluff and inspired because my sister wanted me to give some of my clothes to charity! I mean, ok so the knees have huge holes in them, I put them there woman! And also because I love Cartel (aka Cedar)’s song ‘Luckie St’, makes me think of Greg.

Passing Away

2005-12-16T23:18:12Z

I felt sad and this was the result.

Title: Sleepless Sailor
Rating: PG
Pairing: Gil/Nick
Summary: We all grow old, let us do it gracefully

http://csi.fictionresource.com/fic.php?fic_id=00371

Sparrow Series

2005-12-16T23:16:57Z

This is a little angsty piece in the World of 'Sparrow Series' focusing on Nick's child abuse by the babysitter.

http://csi.fictionresource.com/fic.php?fic_id=00364

Title: Full of Grace
Pairing: Gil/Nick
Rating: NC-17
Summary:Nick relieves his own past when he's assigned a child rape case. Will he tell Gil?