patterns_bloom | For Cassidy

For Cassidy

Alana's hands are already exploring Cassidy's chest as soon as she shuts the door to her room. She'd told him she wasn't opposed to sex, and not only is she willing, she's downright enthusiastic. She nips his ear between her teeth, pushing him against the door with her hands on his thin shoulders. Alana thanks her lucky stars that she's wearing her tallest heels; at 6' tall, Cassidy dwarfs her mere 5'1".

Her living room behind her, should Cassidy be distracted enough to glance at it, is neat as a pin. Decorated tastefully in sage green and white, the room hosts two plush chairs and a just-as-plush couch with soft throws. The seats are set up around a polished coffee table to facilitate conversation. A gas fireplace rests in the corner, waiting to be turned on. Dark bookshelves lined with color-coded books and silver and blue vases flank an open doorway, which teases at a bedroom beyond.

Alana tries to arrest Cassidy's attention by sucking on his collarbone.

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Cassidy utters a rough chuckle. "Aye, it was pretty damn good," he hums in agreement.

He folds an arm around her and lazily runs his other hand through her hair.

"Y'know, if someone told me yesterday that I'd end up in bed with a hot gun-toting psychology professor, I'd've laughed in his face an' called him mad."

Alana laughs softly. Her fingers skate abstract patterns over his barw chest. "I'm glad I could surprise you," she says, beaming at him. "And you surprised me, too, in many, many ways. I bet we each still have surprises in us yet."

He closes his eyes for a moment.

"Oh, aye, I'm just full of surprises," he murmurs. Rather ambiguously. But it's still true.

He opens his eyes again and stretches, putting one hand behind his head.

"What about you, then? What's your story?"

Alana's fingers stop moving. She sighs, and rests her cheek on his pectoral muscle. "My story is depressing, I'm afraid. Do you know Hannibal Lecter?"

Cassidy could tell her a thing or two about depressing, but this is not the depressing Olympics, and he's actually concerned about her when her tone shifts.

"Hannibal Lecter?"

Thank goodness Alana can't see his face because what, the serial killer from the movies?

"Know him? No, I-- never met him."

what

"Why? What's he got to do with you?"

Alana buries her face in his chest, drawing a deep breath through her nose. Her shoulders tremble for a moment, and then she raises herself up on her elbows to look him in the eye. Her gaze is filled with steel.

"Back home, Hannibal Lecter has me pinned in his office, lying in wait to kill me. I've been avoiding going home to face him for a year and a half, waiting on someone who has promised to return with me. I'm bored out of my skull."

"Whoa-- wait-- what?"

His mind races to process this. It's almost as absurdly trippy as going to Star Wars world.

"Jaysus, so you-- you've pretty much been trapped here? By a killer?"

"Yes," Alana says, her breath escaping her in a quiet sigh. She clenches her fists against his chest. "My fear of him has held me back. And to make matters worse, he comes here, from my future, and tortures me about it. I recently talked to Security, and they told me that that is outside business and to call them next time it happens."

"Now, hang on a sec-- a future Hannibal comes here," he says, pausing, as if to make sure he's got that right. To let it sink in.

"So, like, the future where he knows what's happened to you. What he'd done."

His voice takes on a bit of an edge.

"And he's been holdin' it over your head for all this time?"

"Exactly," Alana says, setting her jaw. When she speaks, her words are a shade bitter. "There was a long time where he wouldn't tell me whether I'd even survived or not. He used to tease me about some huntress. Then he told me that lived after all, and had had a child, though he wouldn't tell me who with. All while insisting that he couldn't tell me anything, because that would change my future."

That's fucked up.

"What a right bloody bastard," he mutters, a slight curl to his upper lip.

Cassidy isn't generally a threatening presence, though his appearance and attitude lend him an air of a typical 'bad boy' or some degenerate punk. But there is always something dangerous lurking just beneath the surface. And sometimes it shows.

He brushes her hair over her shoulder and sweeps his hand down her arm.

"D'ye need help?"

Alana presses a grateful kiss to Cassidy's sternum. "No," she says, her tone warm. "X and Rae Seddon are coming back with me. And Security has my back here. I only need to wait until Rae returns from her world before we can go back. Thank you, though, Cassidy. I appreciate the offer."

Alana sounds as if she's got it under control, but he can't help insisting, just a little bit.

"You sure now? He ever bothers you, I could bother him right back."

Alana's smile is bright, but she sniffles. "No, thank you. I wouldn't want you to get into trouble on my account. As gratifying as it would be to engage in revenge, I don't think it's the right approach. Besides, I don't want to put you on his radar, at all."

"Alright." He shrugs a shoulder. "But if you change your mind, though, you can come to me anytime. I can be an obnoxious prick to 'im anyways. Not that big of a stretch for me."

Alana laughs, all vestiges of tears banished. "I don't think you're an obnoxious prick," she says, grinning at him. "But then again, I have only just met you."

She stretches as lazily as a cat, with a soft moan. "So, tell me about yourself, Cassidy. What's your story, as it were?"

"Oh, obnoxious prick is one of my many adjustable settings," he chuckles wryly. "I can't promise that you'll never see it but I'll try to spare you."

As she stretches, he shifts a bit, folding both hands behind his head.

"My story? Ah, we'd be here forever if I told you my story. Would you believe me if I said I was on the run from a group of vampire-hunting vigilantes?"

Alana's smile is quick, and almost rueful. She drums her fingers up and down his ribs. "I believe it. Do you think you'll manage to escape them, or will they never stop?"

"Eh, well, done alright for meself so far, but lately they've gotten way too close for comfort, 's why I've needed to keep moving. I figure when I go back out the door, I'll just lay low for a while, see what things're like there, wherever 'there' is. In fact those blokes I mentioned earlier, the ones I was traveling with? Turns out they were them. ...An' we were in a private jet."

Alana's eyes widen as she considers the implications of that. "Tell me you had a parachute."

"Nope. An' I highly advise against jumping out of a plane with no parachute, I cannot stress that enough."

A quick beat.

"Anyways, that's how I literally landed in the middle of nowhere. It wasn't a pleasant landing, I'll tell ya that much. But as you can see, I'm fine. That's another vampire thing, I'm kinda nearly indestructible. I mean, sure, I can get hurt, but I heal pretty quickly with enough blood."

Alana doesn't gasp, but it's a near thing. She brings her fingers up to her mouth, and then lowers them again. She wraps her arms around his chest and rests her head on his shoulder.

"Good grief, Cassidy. That must have hurt," she says, shaking her head against him. "How did you heal in the middle of nowhere?"

"I believe I also mentioned a cow?"

The Quincannon Meat & Power company is currently missing one heifer that wandered too far from the slaughterhouse.

He slides an arm around Alana and kisses the top of her head. "Now, then, don't you go worryin' about me, I'll not be jumpin' from planes again anytime soon."

Alana's laugh is sudden and startled. She glances up at Cassidy with a grin. "You drained a whole cow? That was some fall, so I suppose needing to eat a cow makes sense."

She pushes herself up and presses her lips to his in a brief, affectionate kiss. "Then I won't worry. You seem to be able to take care of yourself just fine."

"Hey, a cow has a lot of nutritional value, an' I needed all of it," he remarks with amused pragmatism.

Smiling at the kiss, he still wonders how he ended up here with her. He probably shouldn't think too much of this. And really, neither should she.

"Like I said, lass, I've done well on me own. That's me, always gettin' by."

He draws her in for another kiss, lingering a little this time.

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patterns_bloom - 2017-08-08 16:38 (UTC) - Expand

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