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samsomTitle: True North
Rating: PG
Pairing: A/C
Summary: She’s his true north, his touchstone.
Spoilers: None, but I picture this between S1 and S2, when summer is turning into fall.
Disclaimer: I could be witty, but what’s the point? They still wouldn’t be mine.
Notes: Written in about fifteen minutes, while listening to Alicia Keys, so if it’s rough, this is why.
~~
He always comes back to her after patrol.
After a night chasing demons and vampires, saving LA one life at a time, dirty and grimy and angry and hot from the sewers and the blood spilling, he comes back to her apartment, looking.
For something.
For the warm crook of her elbow, the soft spot under her ear, and the way she sighs his name and moves with him in the dark of her living room, music leading them, hips swaying and legs brushing.
She tilts her head back and looks up all vulnerable need and soft love and he leans in closer, face right next to hers, breathing in her scent, and her love, her acceptance and her joy.
Hands all over her satin back, tactile sensation bleeding into him, warming him, making him feel alive, soft smell of woman and the thing that makes her like no other woman and he believes if he stays long enough, he’ll be warmed in her fire forever, all he ever needs of love here in his arms and he goes up in a blaze of shimmering desire, his head and senses filled with her and this moment and how well she fits in the curves and corners of his body, and his soul.
Cordelia with her sharp edges and brambly heart found in him something worthy and true and coaxes it out with an easy confidence that leaves him stumbling with awe. She redeems him with her pain, and forgives him with a smile and a touch and he thinks if he lives to see the constellations shift in the sky, that he’ll never find anything else that touches him so deeply and so truly.
So he dances with her, in the dark midnight of her apartment, framed by the harvest moon and the turning trees and the wind rustling through the quiet streets, and is still inside.
And warm.
Rating: PG
Pairing: A/C
Summary: She’s his true north, his touchstone.
Spoilers: None, but I picture this between S1 and S2, when summer is turning into fall.
Disclaimer: I could be witty, but what’s the point? They still wouldn’t be mine.
Notes: Written in about fifteen minutes, while listening to Alicia Keys, so if it’s rough, this is why.
~~
He always comes back to her after patrol.
After a night chasing demons and vampires, saving LA one life at a time, dirty and grimy and angry and hot from the sewers and the blood spilling, he comes back to her apartment, looking.
For something.
For the warm crook of her elbow, the soft spot under her ear, and the way she sighs his name and moves with him in the dark of her living room, music leading them, hips swaying and legs brushing.
She tilts her head back and looks up all vulnerable need and soft love and he leans in closer, face right next to hers, breathing in her scent, and her love, her acceptance and her joy.
Hands all over her satin back, tactile sensation bleeding into him, warming him, making him feel alive, soft smell of woman and the thing that makes her like no other woman and he believes if he stays long enough, he’ll be warmed in her fire forever, all he ever needs of love here in his arms and he goes up in a blaze of shimmering desire, his head and senses filled with her and this moment and how well she fits in the curves and corners of his body, and his soul.
Cordelia with her sharp edges and brambly heart found in him something worthy and true and coaxes it out with an easy confidence that leaves him stumbling with awe. She redeems him with her pain, and forgives him with a smile and a touch and he thinks if he lives to see the constellations shift in the sky, that he’ll never find anything else that touches him so deeply and so truly.
So he dances with her, in the dark midnight of her apartment, framed by the harvest moon and the turning trees and the wind rustling through the quiet streets, and is still inside.
And warm.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-10-03 12:00 pm (UTC).
.
.
Now get back to Oblivion *nudges* I haff been writing too, before you say a single word or nudge me back. so nur :P
*more loffs*
no subject
Date: 2006-10-04 03:46 am (UTC)Well, one of two main focuses this week.
::is busy typing::
no subject
Date: 2006-10-03 01:00 pm (UTC)So close I can see the outraged fury flaring from gold/green irises, it makes me want to match and surpass it; express my own in a way all too familiar.
But either I don't because Wes is there on the sidelines, or deep within I'm not sure how far I'd go. So I push the urge down and promise myself it will happen. Soon. And I will choose carefully the where and when.
Physical expression of rage is a luxury in my world. And I know it's not needed just by looking into eyes that scream out shock, hurt and betrayal. My tongue can be as sharp a weapon as the one she is so quick to use.
But expression though action is- has always been, my way, and the need right now burns like though my gut like vitriolic acid when only my eyes can clash in combat with hers.
Bleeding her dry with small sips to draw it out.... Breaking her wilful spirit before crushing her life between my hands.
Those thoughts are qhashed almost instantly. I would never want her dead.
Just the thought makes the cold sweat of fear bead my skin.
The urge to let her have a taste up close and personal of what is truly under my skin. Something long-hidden to protect fully unleashed with her as my private audience ... My mouth salivates at the thought- abruptly drives me back and away, away from the temptation.
Resorting to words that can only hint at my darker desires:
"I'm a vampire..."
no subject
Date: 2006-10-04 03:48 am (UTC)That was great!
no subject
Date: 2006-10-04 08:08 pm (UTC)Plus I would much prefer you to take on Angel's pov (like I asked on DW, :P. Reading the Beige period, beside teh hawtness that is Bad-Angel *swoon*, I adore the arc pulled away from Darla and plonked on Cordelia- It hits all my C/A kinks.
*taps fingers*
Would it help if I told you GTKY 6 is with my Beta right now? Not too proud to stoop to bribery ::ebul grin::
OHMIGOD! Just had an idea!
S1... doyle dies and after the tears and shock; cordelia unaware that the visions are passed onto her, decides to move on. Have no idea doing what or where... Angel drops back into the shadows, blah de blah...
A month (just to give some time in between) later, Cordelia is hit with her first vision and as its for Angel, reaslises she can't move on, after all. (plus she misses him like crazy, but maybe she thought when she told him of her plans at the time (possibly to test the waters, and him doing the distant thingie) that he was all for it, and it made up her mind at the time.
Gets back and finds him all beigy, bad tempered, blah de blah.... ok. that's it so far, but not bad for a lightbulb moment, heee.
I might even offer it out as a challenge, as am not sure, what with assignments, etc, if I'll have the time for yet another fic, guh.
*licks*
no subject
Date: 2006-10-03 01:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-04 03:52 am (UTC)Uh, sorry. Got carried away. But yeah, really looking forward to the next few months:P
no subject
Date: 2006-10-03 03:45 pm (UTC)(Sorry for that short reply.)
no subject
Date: 2006-10-04 03:53 am (UTC)Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2006-10-03 07:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-10-04 04:01 am (UTC)Thank you! This has really made my night! I love Volition, and I've actually been meaning to apologize to you for not being active there. I have such a hard time navigating Yahoo Groups, that I haven't been able to really get in there.
But I visit the archive frequently, cuz the stuff there is so, so good.
If there are any other fics I may write that you want to put there, don't even ask - just go ahead.
Hee!
::lalalalala::
no subject
Date: 2006-10-04 12:52 pm (UTC)