Ah, this will probably be my last one for this ship for a while... until I get on top of the others I've still gotta get writing. Le sigh. As per always, all I own is the dastardly plot this time, so all credit goes to the amazing authors for the characters.
There were very few people in the world that could bring the guard down on Martha Lincoln, and even fewer whom could get her to ditch the laws of propriety and cut loose. One actually, one single person who could get her to do both and all he needed to do was look at her. She'd never been a people person – someone that willingly let people in to see her vulnerabilities – she had a couple of friends from high school, and even fewer from her failed time at college, a handful of people, if you included him; whom were able to see the true her, the woman that spent her nights woken by nightmares and consoled by sappy movies and a good book in the midst of a loveless and mostly failing marriage.
That was how she'd ended up in her current position, standing in only her underwear and his shirt in his bathroom. Substantially less clothing than she had come in last night she mused to herself. She run her fingers over her neck gently, the bite marks from the night before present; he'd always had a habit of biting. She should have known he'd mark her, claim her as his in some primal way, but then again she was pretty sure she had thought of that, she just hadn't dwelled too much on it because the idea appealed a great deal more than anything else she had thought of at that point.
The knock on the door broke her out of her thoughts, her fingers curling around her collar bone for a moment fearing it was his niece, until she remembered; she hadn't been home that morning when they'd woken up; she'd already left for school.
"Can I come in?" Macon asked, his hand resting against the door as he knocked again.
Her lips curled into a smile at the request, as she opened the door for him, his hair messy from the bed still and his chest bare.
His chest she thought to herself, her smile, his body certainly wasn't lacking, he wasn't lacking at all she thought to herself as she eyed him up and down, his loose fitting pants sitting on his hips.
"It's your house" She replied cheekily, her finger hooking into his belt loops and pulling him towards her.
"And you had the door shut; I respect privacy" He said grinning as she let go and turned to look in the mirror, picking up the hairbrush from the vanity and bringing it through her hair.
"Ever the gentleman" She chuckled slightly, her voice bordering hoarse pronouncing her accent more than usual.
"I try to be" He drawled, his hands slipping around her waist and pulling her to him as he stood behind her, his chin resting on her shoulder.
Martha sighed and wrapped her hands around his, her head lolling to the side as his lips touched her neck gently, his mouth moving against the sensitive skin.
"This is how I always imagined it" She said causing him to look at her reflection in the mirror, the half lidded happy expression she wore, his eyebrow raised with curiosity.
"Imagined what?" He asked.
"My life with you, and every morning with you" She said chuckling softly. "How things would have been if they'd been a bit different; Y'know, if I hadn't made as many mistakes, Married Peter, us, this is how I always imagined us" She said softly.
"In front of my bathroom mirror looking like we've had a bad night out and woken up?" he asked humorously, his hands tightening around her waist a bit more.
She turned in his arms to face him, her eyes meeting his and their noses touching, her breath hitting his face as she spoke.
"No, me in my underwear and you shirtless after we've spent the night together" she said softly, her hand reaching up to touch his face and cup his cheek.
"Oh, I like that idea" he said. The words drawing out of his mouth in the crisp and clean drawl she'd always found attractive. "There could still be an us, we could still have that if you really wanted."he said, his fingers tracing her lips.
"I'd give up the way everything is now to have that" she said, her eyes glittering with emotion.
Macon smiled at her before replying. "I know, but it's never that easy is it? You'd have to pay a price for it".
Martha chuckled "There's always a price to pay honey, you just gotta pick and choose the battles ya fight; I do however suspect I'm right when I say this town isn't exactly ready for their upstanding southern belle to run away with the mysterious stranger in the big house. No matter how attractive he may be and how much she might love him" her voice sad as the words came out.
Gatlin would never be ready for her to run off with him, they'd never be ready for her to divorce Peter either, and Wesley, she didn't even want to think about the implications her dalliances would cause for her son. She could hear the speculation now if her past came out, the questions about his paternity, she almost snorted at the thought that Wesley could be anyone's child but Peters.
"As I said always a price to pay" Macon replied, breaking her out of her thoughts, his forehead resting against hers.
"I'd run away with you right now if I could leave it all behind" Martha said reaching up to kiss him. "But I have a life, a son, everything I've made over the past seventeen years, everything that makes me, me to this town, everything that everyone expects of me" she said reaching up to kiss him softly, her lips drifting across his.
"My dear, you know I don't hold that against you right?" He asked seriously, his face concerned.
Martha grinned "I know, I've always known, why else would you send me flowers every year for my birthday".
Macon smiled at the comment, his hands moving down her sides and settling on her hips. Few women had ever grabbed his eye and the fiery brunette was one of the lucky ones, she wasn't like everyone else. She was dominative, smart, and for as much as she tried to hide it caring and with a brilliant sense of humour and just a little too much practice in the art of lying. She'd once told him that strict parents raise the best liars, which had on more than one occasion left him wondering why she was so strict with her Son. Then again he had thought, long time practices don't just disappear overnight.
"Because I love you, it's as simple as that, I love you" He said, his posture straight and his jaw set as he looked in her eyes, his face contorted slightly into a look of worry as if he was afraid of rejection.
Martha stared at him for a moment before reaching up and pulling his face to hers, her lips colliding with his, melding into each other as she run her tongue across his lower lip and he granted her access, her tongue moving into his mouth.
Breathing heavily she drew back from him. "I love you too" She said breathlessly before backing away and walking to the side of the room to gather her clothes and remove his shirt from her body. "Where can you take us that is totally private?" She asked as she slipped her dress on over her underwear, this one different to the one he'd stripped from her body the night before but a very similar style, delicate and demure, just like her to society.
"Anywhere you wish" He said arching his eyebrow in curiosity, "Why?"
"Just make sure it's somewhere no one is going to hear me scream... or you for that matter" She said grinning as she walked over to kiss him. "I'm going to get food from the kitchen whilst you organise our dirty get away, Oh, also, I forget, is it leather or lace you like more?" She asked, her eyes glittering in the light of the bathroom as she held onto the door frame.
"You know which one it is I prefer and you know I'm not adverse to the other" He growled as he looked her up and down.
Martha smirked, her tongue darting out to run over her lips for a moment as she thought. "That's right" She said causing him to look at her puzzled. "I remember now; lace is your favourite, but your kink is leather and a penchance for black if I recall" She said turning and walking down the hall.
"You'll be the death of me woman" He yelled after her causing her to chuckle. "And here I was thinking you'd be the death of me" She threw over her shoulder as she continued down the hall towards the stairs.
Oh sweet mother of Magnus I am finished. And yes, I am truly aware I am going to fandom hell for this, but alas, I have feels.
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