The bartender raised an eyebrow at the girl as she set a box on the counter of his bar. “You’re that Summer girl, right?” he asked absently, and then nodded as he stepped away to find his employer. Several minutes later, he returned, “Vex’ll be out momentarily.”
And several moments later, the Mesmer appeared, walking over to where Summer stood at the bar. He was dressed in his finest. “‘Ello, Precious,” he greeted, “Ya called?”
Vex smiled good-naturedly at her, “Just kidding, of course.” He pulled her up the stairs almost eagerly, glad to be with Summer today rather than alone. “And good, because so do I,” he replied, which was true; ‘precious’ felt much more natural. He pulled open the door to his private room upstairs and let her inside, shutting the door behind them. He stuck the red velvet cake in his mini-fridge, and then took a seat on the leather sofa. “C’mere,” he said simply, casting a smile her way.
“You had better be,” she scolded. Hands on her hips, she strode across the room to stand between his knees, hipshot. “Imagine, preferring hookers when you could have called me.” She frowned down at him before reaching out and rapping him on the top of the head with a fist. “The cheek of you. That’s what you Brits say, right, cheek?”
His smile shifted to a friendly smirk as she moved over to him, chuckling lightly. “Oh stop, I could never prefer ‘em to you, Precious,” he told her, and then rolled his eyes at the Brits comment. “Some of ‘em,” he muttered, “But seriously, Summer, I’d never.” He reached out to grab her wrist so that she wasn’t knocking him on the head anymore, and then pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.
Amused, she let him, and then frowned more thoughtfully. “What are you all dressed up for then? Are there /Fae/ hookers?” It wasn’t so much a condemnation as curiosity.
She stepped past, belatedly noticing the half-curled hair and stockinged feet. “I’m sorry … you were getting ready for something and I interrupted … um.” One hand fidgeted with the ends of her hair. “I guess I didn’t plan this part very well.” She looked up at Allison, and away, and felt herself blushing again. “I wanted to talk to you. Let you ask me things, like I promised.”
“Oh,” Allison shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. There’s a dance thing tonight that i’m going to but, I don’t have to worry about it for another couple of hours at most. So, did you want to come in?” Allison stepped aside just in case the answer was yes. “It would be a little weird to leave you standing on the porch while we’re talking. We can talk while I finish getting dressed.”
“Oh, yeah, sure.” Summer came in and looked around the foyer awkwardly. “I guess … your bedroom is down the hall?”
“I’m — ” She cut off, voice choked again. He didn’t know everything, and he /couldn’t/ know everything. She couldn’t even explain to him what was wrong. “Percival, you’re biased.”
“Hmm, even so. A lot of smart people agree with me. I know I can’t just zap everything better.” He held her closer and buried his face in her hair, “But I’ll do my best, because everything I do know about you tells me I should.”
“Nobody agrees with you.” Her voice was muffled by his shirt. “Take me out of here. Please. For a little while. I need to be away from Camelot.”
Victor growled low under his breath and rolled so that he was on top of her. “Whatever you’d like, m’lady.” He smiled at the way she bared her throat to him and gently ran his fangs over the skin tantalizingly. He loved the feeling of her nails against his skin, the way she had scraped down his back. His hips dipped and his breath caught in his throat. He sat up, pulling his shirt off then coming back down to her and kissing her neck. She was driving him insane just like she always had.
Summer wanted to kiss his bare skin, but he was on top of her and in control. It was achingly familiar. She moaned slightly, sinking fingers into his hair. He needed a haircut, but right now it meant she had more to hold on to. She rolled her hips, pressing upward, trapping heat between them. “Whatever I’d like?” she asked, with a chuckle.
Victor hummed in contentment as her fingers slid into his hair; he had missed that. He pressed into her again, letting her feel how hard his was, the sensation sending bolts of pleasure up his spine. One of his hands ran up her side, dipping underneath the hem of her shirt and trailing her body up to her breasts. “Whatever you’d like.” He reaffirmed as he cupped and kneaded the flesh in his hand.
“What if,” she murmured, arching up into him, “what I’d like is for you to never take another contract again?” The hair rose on her skin at the contrast between the heat of his hand and the coolness of the rest of her body.
Victor stayed still, his muscles trembling under her fingers until her hand reached his mouth. He took her hand in his and pressed his cheek to her palm then turned to face her. Little butterfly kisses landed on her wrist, her palm and each of her fingers then before he pulled her in closer. “Gods did I miss you, an’ hell jus’ bein’ near you is heaven enough for me,” he whispered then kissed her forehead.
Summer didn’t expect to be able to sleep. She expected to be staring into the dark, throat tight and eyes hot, for hours; to jerk out of a fitful doze every hour or so. So she was surprised to open her eyes to chill winter dawnlight, still curled up against Victor.
For a few heartbeats she wasn’t actually sure she /was/ awake. There had been dreams almost exactly like this. She turned her head to look up at the ceiling, trying to find some way to know she was really awake, before deciding it didn’t matter. If she was going to dream this lucidly, she would enjoy it while it lasted.
So she edged herself closer to Victor, curling her fingers into his skin, and waited for him to wake up.
The musty rot of mildew soaked the air as he came to. He was hanging by his wrists, the cuffs attached to the chain digging into his flesh. The door opened with a whine as his tormentor waltzed into the prison cell. Xander carried his favorite tool, his metal cane. Again with the same question, “Will you do as you were meant to and rebuild the Academy?” Again, the same answer, “Never.” The look of strange disappointment on Xander’s face before he swung the cane into Victor’s ribs.
Victor started awake, his eyes wide as it took him a moment to remember where he was. He looked over at Summer and pulled her close to him, willing himself to calm down. His eyes closed as he tried to fill his senses only with her scent. He let out a shaky exhale and whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Tentatively, he ran his fingers down her jaw and over her cheekbone, recommitting her to memory in an effort to push out the remnants of his nightmare.
She was not going to — she was /not/ going to — the spark was still there. The one they’d blown into a raging blaze practically the day they’d met. It jumped from his fingers to her skin and chased down her spine. “Why?” she asked, pulling a knee up to drape over his leg under the covers, the length of her body pressed to the length of his.
Summer giggled, clutching the bailey’s ice cream to her chest. “Nope! Nope nope nope, you’re cut off and this is mine now!”
She rolled over, brushing her hair out of her face. “What’s going on?” Not that there was any real expectation of getting him to talk, but she had to ask. It was too much part of who she was, to notice the little twitches that most people couldn’t even see.
Wasn’t this the first time ever someone really did ask him what the problem was? For all the feigned bravado he liked putting up, Tony did wonder if perhaps anyone could be able to spot that everything was shit and ask about it. Not that he wanted to share, obviously, he was merely curious. “I’m finishing off your precious ice cream, that’s what.”
Summer waved a hand, brushing that away. “No, besides that. I meant, what’s wrong?”
“Don’t be, this’ll be lots of fun for us, not everyday one goes exploring.”
Summer coloured, ducking her head. “It’s very kind of you to say so, my lord. Camelot because — well, for one, because there is you. There aren’t very many young heirs or young lords just now, so of course I should come to where the folk of my age and rank are gathering, and that is here, around you.” Ducking under an outstretched limb, she went on, “Also Camelot, for good or ill, is a leader to the lands around. To know the temper of Camelot is to know which way many of the other kingdoms will incline. It’s not just the knights’ training I hope to take home, but friendship here. I think I haven’t done so badly there.” She grinned at him.
Arthur grinned at her coloring and nodded. He understood that Camelot stood out like the beacon it was sometimes, the leader of the five kingdoms, determined to bring peace to all of the neighboring kingdoms and villages. They would just have to hope that they’d want the same as himself. Peace for everyone. “I’m glad if you are finding the friendships you were hoping for Summer. I know that everyone enjoys your company here and they all like you here.”
“This is entirely too much flattery.” She bit at her lips, trying not to smile and ruin the joke. “I grow suspicious of your motives, my lord. What is it you’re trying to gain by saying such kind things?”
“Yes,” she sang out gleefully. “Where are we going? Where is your coat? Put on your coat! It’s cold, and I’m going to fall down so you have to rescue me, so put on your coat, come on, come on!” She hadn’t honestly been this excited in a while. She bounced through the door, whirled around looking for his coat, and tried to shove it on him. “Do you need gloves? Where are your gloves?” It’s possible he may need to muzzle her.
[♙— “Summer, Summer!” Xavier paused, his hands going up to grab her shoulders so she would stop buzzing around. “Hey, don’t need the coat or the gloves okay? I actually like the cold,” oh the irony, “but I’ll wear gloves if it makes you feel better, yeah?”
She still vibrated under his grip, just in place instead of all over the place. “If you get sick I’m not taking responsibility. Tony can nurse you back to health. Come /on/!”
“Oh yeah? Were there specifics? Did you leave him with plenty of caffeine?” Summer glances up from her laptop, grinning. “Or is this him doing that thing where he’s afraid he’ll screw it up if he tries to … make his friends be friends?”
Clint listens attentively and lifts his brow in surprise when learning about you being an empath. You working with SHIELD does not surprise him as he heard that before and he does not have anything against it either. He stays quiet until you’re done. “Well it’s nice get to know you Summer. You’re the first empath I’ve met, hopefully I don’t give you trouble. Sometimes I might be hard to be around with for someone with your ability I guess.” he warns you in friendly manner knowing that he’s not the most stable person.
She gives him a sceptical look. “Sweetheart, I live with Tony Stark and Loki, who are in love with me and each other. You are not going to be a problem.” Summer shrugs. “So that’s me. There’s just not much to me.”
“Guess that’s true, I’m not much at all compared to them.” Clint agrees smiling at you. “Hmm, I think that there’s a lot more to you than you say. It’s not a bad thing. Guess we have had enough of talking for now. What do you like to do for fun? “
She lifts the laptop a little. “Computer things. Read. Sing, dance, video games. Chase the cats around the house. Sometimes work out. Wander outside. Well, in Central Park. I’m not really a city girl.”
Though Fandral was not known for his brains, he knew when he was the root of laughter. Over the years, he had come to learn that not every maiden was fair, and would fall for his charm. It didn’t bother him as much as it could have, but still the feeling of being insulted was not pleasant. “I do not know if I could spare the time for a demonstration,” Fandral replied.
Forcing herself to stop laughing, she raised her hands, placating. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s not meant as an insult, only you took it so very seriously.”
Hmm, perhaps she did not mean to be cruel in her manner, so he decided that forgiveness was a good idea. “I rather do, but then again, how exactly were you to know such a thing before meeting me, hmm?” he smiled, weakly.
“Precisely my point. Truly, I’m sorry. Let me buy you a drink.”
