Author's Note: This is my first piece after overcoming a rather frustrating block. For some time I have toyed with the notion of writing an AU to the second season. This was initially started in order to recreate the seventh episode with my OTP rather than Ethan x Vanessa (don't get me wrong, the episode is lovely as it is but when you ship a different ship, the "what if" part of your brain tends to whirl with promise). However, the more I considered what I wanted to ultimately do with the scenario, the more I realized that I would need a set-up fic at the very least. Therefore: this was written.


Poetry

A frustrated sound escaped Vanessa Ives as she flung back the covers and sat up in bed.

Ever since an incident that involved witches invading her home in order to steal a lock of her hair (though it had actually been more of a clump and the spot on her head was still a bit sore); sleep was a luxury not easily afforded.

Then again: she had always considered herself lucky to get in a few restful hours in general.


Resigning herself to another bout of insomnia, Vanessa sighed, rose, pulled a robe over her nightgown, and grabbed a small candle in order to illuminate her way through the halls.

She walked carefully down the stairs and veered towards the library. Some time with a favorite book would hopefully ease her spirits and allow her to drift off properly.

She paused when she noticed a soft, yellow glow from under the door, which meant that a fire had been lit. As quietly as possible: she pushed open the door to investigate and discovered a sight that immediately brought a smile to her lovely face.


Asking Caliban to come and live in the manor had initially been met with reluctance on his part. However, as the weeks went by, he'd relaxed not only in her company, but that of her companions: Sir Malcolm, Ethan Chandler, and Sembene. He even seemed less on edge around Victor Frankenstein when he came to visit – though she would not have blamed him if he had continued to avoid the doctor after learning of the truth behind the tension there.

After all: dealing with the man who had brought you back from the dead was not exactly something one just handled.

At that moment, her dearest friend appeared completely serene as he lounged on the floor, his back resting against the base of the divan while his keen, gold-colored eyes scanned the pages of the book that lay open across his lap.

Vanessa's heart skipped in her chest as she studied his features in the flicker of the fire's light. Despite his protests to the contrary; he was quite handsome in his own way – even with the scars that marred his skin.

His lips quirked as he read a passage that amused him, and he haphazardly ran his fingers through his slightly-damp, shoulder-length waves of dark hair in order to push it back from his gaze.

"Couldn't sleep?" he suddenly queried, which caused Vanessa to jump, startled.

"How did you know I was here?" she moved properly into the room.

He looked over in her direction. "Victor's experimentations left me with enhanced senses, among other things."

Her already rapid heartbeat began to increase when he stood, which caused the loosely tied dressing gown that he wore over pajama pants to fall open further and reveal the muscled planes of his chest and abdomen.

Flushing, she tucked an errant curl over her ear and moved closer. "So…I take it that you don't sleep easily either?"

He shook his head. "Never really could. However, I find that reading relaxes me."

Vanessa nodded in agreement. "Yes, that's why I came down here."

"Then by all means…join me," he extended out his hand.

She loved that he was comfortable enough around her to initiate contact, and entwined her fingers with his without hesitation.

A gentle smile crossed his face when he drew her near, took the candle that she still held in one hand and placed it on a side table where it wouldn't get knocked over. He then guided her over to the sofa.

She sat, cross-legged, on the pillows directly below it, grinning when he copied her position and adjusted his robe slightly so it wasn't exposing quite so much skin.

She shoved her disappointment at him covering up away when he scooted closer. She leaned across him to grab the book he had left on the floor. "Shakespeare?"

"I never had the chance to study the plays long enough when I worked at the Grand Guignol," Caliban admitted. "And I've been quite consumed with trying to memorize the sonnets."

She glanced his way, acutely aware of his proximity. His chest was only inches away from pressing against her back, and if he leaned close to read over her shoulder, she knew that his hair would tickle her neck.

He seemed aware of it as well, his gaze lingering with hers much longer than normal.

"Do you have a favorite?" She managed to recover her voice, hoping that he would answer by reciting one of the poems.

Caliban stared at her for another long moment, and then; to her delight, he did not disappoint:


"Shall I compare thee with a summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate.

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And summer's lease hath all too short a date.

Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimmed;

And every fair from fair sometimes declines,

By chance, or nature's changing course, untrimmed;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,

Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,

What in eternal lines to Time thou grow'st.

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and gives life to thee."


At some point in his recitation: Vanessa turned so they were face-to-face, her pulse racing thanks to the mixture of the beautiful words with his deep, lyrical voice.

And when the sonnet was complete: she threw all decorum out the window and lunged, her lips colliding with his in a fervent kiss while her nails dug into the silk that only partially covered his chest.

Though Caliban was not prepared for the sudden onslaught of passion, he recovered rather quickly: his arms coiling around Vanessa's waist to hold her close as the embrace deepened.

Eventually, he tugged away for air and reached out to brush an errant curl away from her eyes.

"Forgive me," she murmured, leaning in to touch her forehead to his. "But I have wanted to do that for quite some time."

"There's nothing to forgive," he shook his head and nuzzled his nose against hers. "Not when I have wished to do the same."

"Truly?" she met his eyes. "For how long?"

"…if I'm honest, since the moment we met."

She arched an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

He clasped her hand within his and brought it up to his lips, brushing them lightly over her knuckles before murmuring: "It is."

Vanessa had no idea if he moved or she did, but in the next instant: they were kissing again, and with more ardor than the first time.

She nipped and teased at his mouth, coaxing him until he was eagerly retuning her affections.

His fingers came up to weave through her hair, the embrace taking on new meaning when she pushed insistently at his dressing gown, signaling that she wished it off.

He shrugged compliantly out of the garment, and then set to task at removing her robe in order to access more skin.

His lips strayed to discover her neck, and she ran her hands down the expanse of his chest, lingering over the scars that crossed his pale flesh.

His temperature was significantly cooler than hers, but she hardly paid it mind as she was far too consumed with delight at having the man she desired in her arms, at long last.

He whisked her nightgown over her head, baring her completely, and she hastily removed what remained of his clothes so it was skin-against-skin.

He seemed a bit warmer when he settled against her, their limbs entwining as they sank back together against the rug.

Caliban pulled back to catch his breath, gazing down at her lovingly and taking the time to properly admire what was before him.

Though there had been a fair share of lovers on Vanessa's part before him; none had looked at her with such abject devotion.

She reached up, tracing along the design of the scar that traversed the side of his face.

The feel of her warm, gentle fingers on what he considered the most hideous of his disfigurations caused something to break within him, and he dipped his head to capture her mouth with his while his hands began to wander over her naked form.

His lips moved from her own to trail along her jaw, then down her throat, lower and lower until he lingered along her breasts. She hissed in pleasure, her fingers digging into the silken strands of his hair to keep him close as he continued in his ministrations, and then moved further.

He took his time to ascertain the more sensitive areas she possessed, and she made a vague note to discuss just what kind of books he was reading at a later time, but after a while: there was only so much torment she could take.

Sliding a leg against his, Vanessa twisted and pinned her lover beneath her.

Caliban stared up at her, breathing heavily and taken aback at the sudden shift in power, but then her hands and lips were everywhere and he found that he did not mind.

It became her mission to worship as much affection as she could on his scars, so that he was aware that they didn't cause her horror.

She looked up at him at just the right moment so that their eyes met, and there was a pause before he startled her by sitting up, causing their already tangled bodies to entwine further.

He noticed a slightly hesitance in her bright blue eyes, and tilted his head quizzically. "What's the matter?"

Vanessa bit at her lower lip before confessing: "You recall when I told you that my love affairs have gone awry?"

Caliban nodded, gazing at her seriously.

"Well, the reason for that is because whenever I open myself up for this," she gestured at the two of them, "It invites a demon in."

He looked suitably puzzled. "A demon?"

"The devil," she clarified, "At least, that's what I've come to believe."

"And you think that if we…consummate, it will happen again?"

"That's the thing," she shook her head and pushed his tousled hair away from his eyes. "Every other time, I felt this dark thing trying to worm its way into my soul but with you? I feel the opposite. And it scares me more than the thought of becoming consumed by the devil again does."

"Why is that?"

"Because it means that I love you," she whispered, her stomach swirling with butterflies even as she said the words aloud.

He blinked in surprise at her admission, but then: a genuine, loving smile crossed his face. "I love you too. And it's all right to be afraid. Personally, I'm terrified that I won't be able to please you properly."

She snorted with laughter. "That will not pose an issue, I assure you."

He chuckled as well, and then swept her hair over her shoulder before leaning in, kissing her sweetly. "It's all right, Vanessa…we'll take our time," he muttered, bearing her back beneath him.

"Hopefully not too much time," she moaned against his mouth when he trapped her hands against the rug, interlocking their fingers as desire spiraled between them.

"Something tells me that also will not pose an issue," he teased, and then they both driven immediately by distraction as they kissed yet again.

She arched her hips towards his, and he didn't hesitate in taking the invitation: joining them together with a fluid thrust.

Vanessa wrapped her legs around his waist while he started to move, the pair finding symmetry almost immediately.

Never before had anyone fit so perfectly; it was like they were two halves to a whole that had simply taken a while to find one another.

She clung to him as their motions lost grace and raw instinct took over, the pleasure building and building until there was nothing left to do…but fall.


Hours passed before they stopped to recuperate.

Exhausted and utterly sated, Vanessa flung an arm over Caliban's chest and rested her head against the crook of his neck. "That…" she chuckled as she attempted to figure out the right words. "I'm not certain I can properly describe what that was."

He laughed softly, brushing his lips to her forehead and then murmuring: "Poetry. Let's go with poetry."

"Mmm…"she tilted her chin up and appreciated the attractive picture he made with messy hair and a happy expression.

They had moved from the floor to the divan, and were curled up under a blanket that he had found.

He noticed that she was staring at him, and turned slightly so that they could look properly at each other. "Are you all right? I know that you have a lot on your mind right now and perhaps we let this escalate too quickly."

She shook her head and ran her fingers along a scar on his chest. "On the contrary. I'm glad that I have you to take my mind off of things...however there is something more serious I wanted to discuss with you."

"What is it?" concern invaded his gold-colored gaze.

"There's a property that I own, and it is there that I believe I might find some answers on how to defeat this enemy. It is up in the moors, and I'm sure that the others will not want me to go on my own. Therefore: I am asking you: will you come with me?"

"Whatever answers you seek, we will find them together," Caliban whispered, kissing her lightly to seal his promise.

She smiled and curled as close as physically possible. "Yes. Together," she yawned suddenly and then laughed. "I didn't realize I was so tired. You, sir, are a tad insatiable."

He couldn't help but smirk. "Enhanced stamina is another gift from Victor."

"Remind me to send him a thank you gift sometime," stretching against her lover, Vanessa slowly drifted off.

Caliban watched her intently until she was asleep, and only then did he decide to join her.

The End