I wrote this story for S/T Smut Weekend part deux, *and* it also happened to work with October's "Rock the AU" theme, which was "paranormal romance". Wanted to post it over here on FF for people to enjoy (and possibly favorite if you like this sort of thing) ;o)

Just a little back info; so I'm also a fan of "Buffy", and took some elements of that and applied to this story. Basically, demons walk the earth, plaguing on the lives of humanity, but there are those that fight the demons, in particular there is one warrior, and she is called "The Huntress". Fate chooses each Huntress, and Sybil was chosen after demons slaughtered her family-she is the only surviving Crawley member. But a Huntress does not fight alone; she is aided by an angelic creature known as her "Guardian", who not only helps her in fighting the demons, but also provides training and guidance. Tom is Sybil's Guardian (in other words, he's her Guardian Angel). While bonds form between Huntresses and their Guardians, it is forbidden for those bonds to become anything deeper than friendship, and absolutely forbidden for that relationship to be consummated (in other words, these angels aren't like the ones in "Dogma"). But both Sybil and Tom have always been a pair of rebels...

Will I write more to this and develop it into a full-fledged story? Perhaps. Not anytime soon, though; not with all those other projects I have at the moment. But it's a possibility! Anyway, I wanted to do something sexy and "otherworldly" for the Halloween season, so here you go! If you haven't read it yet, I hope you enjoy. And if you have, well, I hope you enjoy it again ;o) THANK YOU!

TO SET THE SCENE...

Sybil has just returned from a hard fought battle with a demon, and is tired and aching, but in that fight, the demon tried to distract her, asking her "what do you have left to live for? Everyone you love is dead! Aren't you tired of fighting? Wouldn't you rather be with them?" And she finally realized then that there is one she loves, someone who is very close, someone who she's been fighting this growing attraction for so long, but now, in this moment, she realizes how precious life is and how she still has something worth fighting for...so after she takes out her opponent, she quickly returns to the dingy motel where she sleeps during the day, and Tom is there, waiting (he was injured badly in a previous battle, so he is recovering and is nearly healed, but Sybil insisted he stay behind while she patrolled). She enters the motel room and he immediately rises, concern and worry obvious on his face, and he tries to speak, but she cuts him off, kissing him and stealing his breath. He just manages to push her away, and he's confused, wondering where this came from...while at the same time, fighting feelings within himself.

...And here is where we begin...

The Huntress and Her Guardian
a "rock the paranormal AU" ficlet
by The Yankee Countess

"This is wrong, Sybil…" he groaned, trying to put distance between them.

She shrugged out of her blood-stained jacket, throwing on the ground next to the crossbow which she had only momentarily discarded. "Why?" she challenged, taking a step towards him. She was done playing these games, games where they pretended that the attraction wasn't there, that the feelings that were clearly raging in their eyes and beneath their skin didn't exist. After everything she had been through, after witnessing the demons slaughter her family, after accepting the mantle as the next Huntress, after all the battles she had endured, and the close brushes with death…

She wanted to feel alive again. And Tom made feel more alive than anyone or anything in this world or the next.

"We shouldn't…" he tried again, although it was becoming more and more difficult to say no. Perhaps because he didn't want to? "You're the Huntress and I'm your Guardian—"

"I'm a woman and your a man."

"Was a man," he corrected, and to remind her of that very fact, he shrugged his own jacket off, and groaned as the large, white wings unfurled, free at last from the confines of his coat. "I was a man once, but not anymore."

"But you still remember, surely…"

Oh God help him, yes. Yes, he remembered what it was like to have human desire, to feel attraction, to crave the flesh, the lips, the taste of another…

His life had ended long ago, on the streets of Dublin in 1916; another nameless victim of the Easter Rising. He had experienced the pleasures of the body, but never knew the pleasures of the heart. Not until he had been granted this second opportunity to walk the earth once more and serve as Sybil Crawley's Guardian. At first he thought her impossible; she refused to listen to him, refused to take his advice, even refused his help in general. She didn't care that all of the Huntresses of the past had Guardians; she had so much anger and rage boiling inside her, that she wanted to take on all the armies of Hell by herself. And she had nearly been killed. He still remembered finding her blood soaked body, beaten and bruised, lying face down on the grass near the graves of her sisters, as if she had crawled there to die. He remembered cradling her against his chest, screaming at her not to die on him, as he threw off his coat and flew with all the speed his angelic form allowed him to the nearest hospital. And he remembered hovering outside on the ledge of her window, watching the heart monitors track every beat and breath, keeping vigil like a gargoyle.

He realized that night he had fallen in love with the one he was sworn to protect, to guard, to aid in her fight. And love between a mortal and an angel, between a Huntress and Guardian, was strictly forbidden.

"I know you want me…" she whispered, closing the distance between them again. "I know you love me…"

"Love is a weakness that your enemies will use against you—against us—"

"No," her fingers came up to rest against his lips. "No, love isn't weak…Love is strength. It's because of Love that I fight for my family, and for others so they won't have to know the pain and rage that I felt, that…that I still feel," she confessed. She looked up into his eyes, her hands moving to touch his face, tenderly, and Tom held his breath, his heart racing so loudly, he was sure it would burst from his chest.

"Love is what saved me that night, in the graveyard. Love is what kept me alive, thanks to you…" she leaned up, her lips hovering close. "Love is what brought me back from brink of death…and Love is what I feel now, so strong, so deeply…"

"Sybil—"

"Let me love you, Tom…please?" she asked, and for the first time since he knew her, despite the harsh make-up she wore and the tough exterior she put on, he saw a vulnerability in her eyes, a silent plea for him to not turn her away.

…And he couldn't. Even if he wanted to, and God help him, he didn't.

He groaned her name, before his mouth descended on hers, his arms moving around her, clutching her, pulling her even closer to his body, moaning as he felt her tongue push past his lips, deepening their kiss, her hands clawing, clutching at the flesh of his neck, moving up into his hair. She moaned back as his tongue danced alongside her own, and found sanctuary in the sweetness of her mouth. It had been so long since he had last kissed someone…and he knew without any doubt, no other in heaven, hell, or on earth, would compare.

A delighted whimper escaped her lips as his hands moved down her body and scooped her up, cupping her rump and groaning as he felt her legs wrap around his waist. His wings, large and white, moved to enfold them then, surround them in a private cocoon to each other, shutting out the world and all its dark terrors. Those things would not find them this night.

He knew his fellow Guardians would be ashamed of him. They would declare it a sin.

But what they didn't understand, what no one could understand, was that with Sybil, her touch, her kiss, the very beat of her heart…

…Was salvation.

Not every mortal becomes an angel when they die. But he was chosen, because he had "a warrior's spirit", and they needed warriors to combat the dark forces that plagued the world.

Tom was weeks away from his twenty-seventh birthday when the Rising took place. Unlike his cousin, who died that same day, he was a rebel, and had been attending secret meetings, as well as collecting messages for the Irish Republican Brotherhood by playing the role of "spy" in the offices of a Pro-British newspaper. He marched alongside James Connolly, was a part of the Dublin Brigade when they seized territories throughout the city on Easter Monday, declaring a free Irish state, and executed six days later via firing squad after his capture (and subsequent torture).

But he had shown great courage, apparently; great courage and no fear, even though he knew he was surely going to die when he took up the cause. And so he was offered a second chance to walk the earth again, this time in the guise of a Guardian, angelic warriors whose main purpose was to fight demons, and aide the Huntress.

Every Huntress had a Guardian; his duty was to provide her with counsel, train her and help her hone and craft her skills as a fighter, but most importantly, to protect her from harm as much as possible…even to the point of laying down his life and giving his soul over to the darkness, if he must.

…And that night, when he had found her broken and bloody in the graveyard, when he wept and screamed and held her tight, before flying her to the hospital with a speed that no creature on earth could ever mimic, he knew that yes…yes, he would do that. He would lay down his life for her, gladly.

He would rather endure eternity in the fires of Hell, than spending the rest of his existence in paradise, knowing that he had failed her and cost her her life.

That had also been the night when he stopped fighting his feelings and finally admitted that he had fallen in love with her. But nothing could come of it, of course; she was mortal, he an angel. She was the Huntress and he was her Guardian.

…But heaven help him, he still remembered what it was like to "suffer" from mortal desires, to yearn for yearn for the touch of a woman, to starve for her kiss.

Revolution had become his mistress when he was still a man. He had accepted his fate and so had put away plans of pursuing pretty girls, even if to quench his thirst of physical lust. He couldn't even remember the name of the last woman he had shared his bed with; it had been a brief affair that had taken place many months before his spying for the Irish Republican Brotherhood had gotten underway. So why now, after so long, were these feelings returning?

He knew the answer, of course, but the magnitude of it nearly frightened him.

Because you love her. Yes; because he loved her.

You've given your body over in the name of lust, but never in the name of love. Because to do so, to bare oneself like that, not just in flesh, but in heart and mind and soul, meant giving of yourself completely over to them—surrendering yourself. And his heart was the thing he guarded the most…

Until her.

Now he guarded her. Because she had become his heart.

And here she stood, the fierce warrior, the slayer of demons, the "Scourge of Satan", the Huntress—here she stood, telling him she loved him back.

And that love is strength.

Like a gentle breeze to a house of cards, his restraints began to tumble, especially when she pressed her body against his own, begging him to let her love him.

Now she was in his arms; he was scooping her up, cradling her against his chest, groaning as he felt her legs move and wrap around his waist, just as his large, white wings began to wrap around her.

She was kissing him deeply, passionately, with a force and vigor that would put a hurricane to shame. He groaned and responded, kissing her back just as deeply, moaning at the sweet taste of her lips, her tongue, the supple flesh of her body, her curves, EVERYTHING—he wanted her, yes, just as she had said. He wanted her, and now he knew he desperately needed her.

He loved her. The rest was detail.

Even though it had been so long since he had last made love to a woman, there were some instincts that this mortal form had given him, and he moved them quickly across the somewhat dingy motel room that served as one of her hideaways when she wasn't hunting, his knees buckling and causing him to collapse on the unmade bed, her body still straddling his, his wings still cocooning them both, his arms only tightening around her as their lips remained locked together…though he did tear his mouth away to let out a pleasured gasp when she began to grind her body against his.

"Sybil…" he groaned, feeling her move over his lap…leaving little to the imagination. "Oh God, Sybil, love…" he hissed as she refused to cease her movements, her hands gripping his shoulders, her fingers digging into his flesh as she continued to move her hips in an erotic rhythm, never relenting, still kissing him passionately, everything begging him to make love to her.

"Let me love you, Tom…please?"

His hands moved beneath her dark tank top, savoring the feel of her silken skin. She was a warrior, she had her fair share of scars, but even so, he found her skin so soft, and she seemed to purr as he stroked flesh, his hands moving higher up spine beneath her shirt as he responded to her hungry kiss. Suddenly Sybil pushed against him, and Tom looked up at her, wondering for a terrifying moment if she had changed her mind. But she wasn't pushing him away because she didn't want him anymore, he quickly realized. All manner of thought left him…as he stared in wonder as she gripped the edges of her top and yanked it over her head, taking her sports bra with her…and freeing her beautiful, supple breasts to his hungry gaze.

He couldn't help but stare, and no doubt his eyes looked like two large, round saucers. "Touch me, Tom…" she begged, taking one of his hands then and not even waiting for him to respond, bringing it to her chest and gasping as she placed it over her left breast. He groaned himself, both at the feel of her nipple hardening against his palm, and the erratic beating of her heart, which seemed to increase now that he was touching her at last.

His other hand rose too, delighting in the pleasured sounds that were escaping her lips as he caressed her right breast along with her left. Her skin was so soft, especially here; creamy and pink, and the flesh around her nipples dark and puckered. "Oooohhh yes!" she gasped, as those instincts from earlier pushed him forward, and brought one of her breasts to his hungry lips, his tongue flicking out to taste her flesh, before closing around the turgid nipple and gently sucking her.

The dam had broke. Some strange sound escaped his throat then; half groan, half growl. Her fingers were digging into his scalp, urging him on and he didn't hesitate. His suckling intensified, and then he was moving his mouth to her other breast, repeating the same treatment to that lonely nipple, while his fingers kneaded the flesh of the one his lips had just loved. His other hand had moved to her back once again, moving down her spine, pulling her closer to him, before dipping beneath the waistband of her jeans, just a little bit, and squeezing her hip.

"Ahhhhh!" Sybil gasped as his teeth tugged on her nipple, while his tongue flicked back and forth. He looked up at her through hooded eyes, seeing the pleasure on her face and he couldn't help but feel his heart soar at the look. She was so beautiful; he always thought that, despite the dark, harsh make-up that she insisted on wearing (her war-paint as she referred it). But right now, seeing her like this, being granted the chance to see her like this—she seemed even lovelier than before.

Her fists tugged on his hair and he was forced to lift his head from the feast of her breasts, but he didn't mind as he was brought back to her delicious lips, her mouth hungrily seizing his and kissing him hard, her tongue moving forcefully into his mouth, causing him to groan, and once again he was at her complete surrender.

Yet those primal instincts took hold again, and suddenly he had seized her in his arms, delighting her surprised gasp as he cradled her against him, but dipping her just so with her back to the bed, giving him the freedom to allow his hand to move down her body, over the smooth flesh of her stomach, over the waistband of her denim shorts, across her hip, and then finally to the skin of her thigh…his hand moving with agonizing slowness down her leg, reveling in the feel of her, his eyes never leaving her face as her lips parted in a sensual gasp, and her own lashes fluttered against her cheeks in pleasure.

"Ooooohhhh Tom…" she whimpered, her hands gripping his shoulders, pulling herself up to his lap again. "I want you…I want you so much," she hissed against his cheek as her lips began to trail across his face.

"Aye…" he groaned, his accent and voice sounding raw and thick, like he used to sound when he was younger…and still mortal.

Suddenly, she pushed herself away again, only this time, much to Tom's disappointment, she was leaving the circle of his arms, her feet finding the floor and taking a step away from him. But just as he had been transfixed with her when she had tugged her top away, his eyes were locked on her again, and his breathing stopped, as he watched her quickly divest herself of her jeans and knickers…pushing them down her hips and legs and stepping out of them…until she stood gloriously naked before him.

"Sybil…" he groaned, staring at her beautiful body, her skin glowing in the dim light of the room. His eyes moved back to her face, and he saw unashamed pride in her eyes, as well as that vulnerability she had shown him earlier when she told him that she loved him. Yes, she wanted him, that was what her look said, but at the same time, she was aware how such desire was so…sacred and intimate. Oh God, the way she looked at him; how could anyone call this a sin?

Wordlessly, she stepped towards him again, his wings spreading to welcome her back and surround her once again. She giggled as she looked up at them, and for the first time since they had known each other, she reached out and tentatively touched them.

"Aaaahhhh…" he gasped.

Sybil's eyes widened. "Tom?"

"Sorry," he apologized, looking a little embarrassed.

However, the look on her face was quite the opposite; in fact, her eyes looked darker to him…darker and hungrier.

He gasped again as she began to stroke his right wing, and a wicked smile began to spread across her beautiful lips. "Does that feel good?" she whispered, stroking just little more.

"Aye…" he gasped, his eyes rolling into the back of his hand as her other hand rose and began to stroke his left wing. "Oh God, it does…it does…"

"Mmmmmm…" she purred, her hands remaining gentle in their touch, but moving along the full length of his wings, from their tips, all the way down to where met his back, which brought her close for him to reach out and pull her against his body once more, his cheek resting against her chest as he moaned under the caress of her fingers.

"Tom…" she whispered, her voice making its way through the somewhat dreamy haze that had settled over him. "Stand up; please…I want to…" he realized what she was asking, and somehow he found the strength to rise, and once again their lips met in a long, slow kiss…while her fingers moved to his waistband, and began to tug and pull at his trousers.

He hissed as he felt the trousers move down across his aching flesh, erect and hard and desperate for her touch, which she wasted no time in giving as soon as he was free from the confines of his clothing. "Ssssssssssybil…" he hissed, before gasping as her fingers wrapped around him and began to slide and down his length. Oh sweet heaven, it had been so long since he had felt anything like this! But no old memory of a long ago lover came to mind, because no previous lover of his past could ever compare to this amazing woman who had his heart.

"I love you, Tom…" she moaned, leaning up, her breath hot against his face, her hand not pausing as it continued to caress him, her fingers moving a little quicker, squeezing him a little harder.

"I…I love you too…" he groaned, and he could feel his knees in danger of giving out again, so once more he collapsed upon the edge of the bed, taking Sybil with him…to a point.

She as on the floor and at first Tom thought she had fallen. He opened his mouth to ask if she was alright, but he suddenly realized that her movement had been most deliberate, as she was on her knees before him…and she was guiding his hardness into her mouth.

"AHHH!" he gasped, throwing his head back as he felt her sweet lips enfold him, just as his wings had enfolded her earlier. She moaned and began to slide her tongue along his length, tasting every inch that she could, sucking him into her mouth, the pleasured sounds coming from her throat causing him to tremble and shake. "S-s-s-s-sybil!" he stammered, one hand moving back behind him to keep him upright, while the other found its way to her hair…his fingers threading through the dark, silken strands as her head continued to bob up and down, her mouth never relenting. "S-s-sybil…oh God, Sybil…that…that feels so good…sooooo good!"

A sound of happiness came from her then, and through heavy-lidded eyes, he looked down at her and saw her looking back up at him, and he could see the pleasure on her face, that look of loving happiness that she was doing this, causing him to feel good. And she was, oh sweet heaven, she was! And he could feel his body tense, feel the pleasure bringing him closer and closer to the brink…

"Love…I…I…I'm going to…and…and I don't want to, not yet, please, please…?"

She seemed to understand, because she slowly lifted her head away from him, rising up to her full height once again, and leaning forward to kiss him, which he gratefully accepted, tasting a little of himself on her tongue, but not minding because the intimate act had been one done out of love, out of a desire to bring him pleasure…and oh yes, he wanted to return the favor and bring her pleasure too.

Without even asking, his hand moved between her legs, and Sybil gasped, her lips tearing away from his as his fingers probed the slick folds of her sex, before slipping a finger up inside her. "Oooohhh Tom, yessssss…" she moaned, as she began to thrust her hips to seeking fingers. "More…more, please…"

Who was he to deny her? He added another finger, and groaned as her delicious scent began to fill the cocoon around him. She gripped his wrist and he quickly realized she was showing him how to move his fingers, how hard, how deep she wanted him to touch her, and he responded. Yet she never let go of him, and his eyes widened as he watched her ride his hand. Oh God, she was getting closer and closer to the brink as well!

Her clit was swollen and pink and glistening, and his thumb didn't hesitate to move up and touch it. She screamed and nearly shattered in his arms, and he knew that she would if he did it again. And God, it was tempting; it was so tempting to take her pleasure right there, and he could see her struggling herself, but she did release his wrist, before gripping his shoulders and moving once again to straddle his lap, her hand moving down between them and holding him once more…before guiding him inside her.

"Oooooohhhhhhh GOD!" he groaned as he felt her body encase his completely.

"Tooooooooooooooooommmmmm…" she whimpered his name as he filled her, and for a moment the two of them didn't move, just sat there, their bodies adjusting to one another, taking pleasure of coming together at last.

…And then she began to move.

"Oooohhh Sybil," he groaned, as her hips grinded over him. His hands moved behind her, touching her, sliding up and down her back once more, one hand falling until he found the left cheek of her rump, and he gave it a squeeze, pulling her even closer to him.

"Kiss me," she commanded, and he obeyed, kissing her deeply as she began to ride him a little faster. He responded, thrusting his hips up to her and gasping with her as the pleasure surged between their bodies. Their mouths attacked each other again, kissing and moaning and telling the other how much they loved them, as their bodies continued to move, their pace quickly increasing as the need for release grew and grew. And then somehow, his arms gripped her close and she let out a loud gasp as she suddenly felt her body falling back onto the mattress, and he was on top of her, his wings unfurling and spreading wide, in danger of knocking furniture around, not that the two of them would notice. From this position, he was able to thrust even harder, which she was begging him to do, chanting his name over and over, "Tom, Tom, Tom, TOM!" as her legs gripped in a delicious vice.

He groaned, his head falling to that space where her neck and shoulder met, grunting as he continued to thrust, feeling his body grow tense, feeling hers start to squeeze, feeling the both of them on the precipice. "Sybil…I…I love you…I love you so much…!"

"I love you, too!" she gasped, and then with one more motion, her body squeezed his and began to tremble, and then together they both threw their heads back and surrendered completely to the pleasure that their love and desire for one another had brought them.

His wings went taut as he trembled in the aftershocks…and he swore he felt himself shed several feathers. But he didn't care. Whatever strength he had left, he brought back to a sitting position, so his wings could surround them once more, enfolding them in that loving cocoon and safe haven, just for the two of them.

"Oh Tom…" she purred, her slick brow resting against his. "Thank you," she whispered.

He was still coming down, his breath barely back to normal, but looked at her and smiled, his lips hovering close, wanting to kiss her again, wanting to never stop kissing her. "For what, love?"

She smiled at the endearment, and he groaned as he felt her fingers move behind him and caress the base where his wings and back met. "For letting me love you," she explained.

He smiled, and with tender, trembling fingers, cupped her face and brought her lips back to his. "No, thank you," he murmured. "For truly showing me heaven."