Fanfic Angel and Dazzler 2 Warren Redux

Author's Note: I'm really looking for feedback on this piece. The only way I can improve is by critique and this is a new genre for me. So that's where you come in. Red pen this story to death! As you know, I don't own the characters, Marvel does. And if you really like this, you can always suggest the next X-Men movie have more of these to in it. ;) However, the story itself, once I have perfected it, will be altered so that I can use it in my own works with my own characters. But it is a lot easier to learn a new style of writing and to accept criticism by using someone else's sandbox. This said, I am enclosing the first page of the early version prior to the later version for comparison. Also, there is the companion piece to this one written from Alison's point of view. Check them both out and see if the dialogue sounds realistic for both sexes. (Oh, and I had to edit the actual main scene for content. Hopefully it won't break the flow overly.) And without further ado, let me introduce you to the other half of the best fanfic never read on the net.

Old version:

Alison and Warren rode the elevator up to his penthouse suite. In the past, he had simply flown women to his walkout patio garden that led into his bedroom. But that had been before the battle with the Marauders in the Morlock tunnels, before Harpoon shattered his wings and hung him up by them. And it was long before his real ones were amputated, replaced after a long recovery by metal ones courtesy of Stark Industries.

He took his key from the lock as the elevator doors swung open to his suite. He let Alison look around while he stripped out of his specialized suit coat and silk shirt. He hung them on a hanger in the bathroom along with his tie and went out to the kitchen.

Alison was across the way, leaning on a couch and gazing out at the lights of the city and the harbor of New York. He had to admit it was stunning. That's why this spot ran a cool $25 million. But he didn't buy it for the view. He bought it so that he could fly. This location was full of windows, and being close to the bay he could see most anything coming from a mile away.

His time in the X-men had garnered him more than a few enemies, as had his family because of the success of their holdings. Not to mention that he woke up screaming if he was in too enclosed a space still. Xavier had offered to help him but he couldn't let his mentor know how close he had been to killing himself. He used alcohol to knock himself out at night most of the time. Then he used it to get through the dark, depressing days. In truth, he knew he was just taking the slow route out.

With the hope of new wings he had managed to cut back on the drinking and pulled himself together enough to start an intensive exercise regime. The new wings were heavy things and he had to build up strength if he was to have even a chance at flying again. So the rigorous training began and Warren fought hard to earn those new wings. And he had done it. The grafting process had been painful and the recovery was longer than he liked, but he was finally back in the skies again.

However, he was still new to the wings and although he could handle flying himself around, he wasn't sure he could handle the stress of carrying someone else for any real distance. Thus, here he was forced to use the elevator, grounded again.

But tonight wasn't for dwelling on misery. He was here, at last, alone with Alison. She was the one that had gotten away, the one he truly desired. He needed to banish the dark thoughts and get his game on. He planned to give her the night of her life very soon so that she'd regret having waited so long to fall into his arms.

He uncorked the decanter and selected a cut crystal lowball glass. "Do you want a drink?" Warren asked Alison. It had been some time since he had last entertained anyone. He needed to remember his manners. He had just selected a second glass when Alison walked over to him and enfolded him in her arms from behind. He set the glass and decanter down so he wouldn't drop them from the shock of it. Alison had usually played more coy in the past and it had been so long since someone other than a doctor had touched him that it surprised him.

New version:

Fake reviews from actual authors:

"Best use of font I've seen. And the margins…!" Jim C. Hines

"Best fan-fiction I've never read." heather l. nelson

"…" Wolfgang Diehr

Alison and Warren rode the elevator up to his penthouse suite. Warren was disgusted with being earthbound yet again. He wanted to carry Alison to the patio garden that led into his bedroom as he had with women in the past. But his metal wings were too new for him to carry a passenger that long. Yet he still longed to fly with her and to show her his world.

"We're here." He took his key from the lock as the elevator doors swung open to reveal his suite.

"Wow, the view from here is amazing," he heard her say as she stepped into the main living area.

"Go ahead and enjoy it. I'll join you in a minute." He let Alison look around while he stripped out of his specialized suit coat, silk shirt, and his tie. He hung them on a hanger in the bathroom and strode into the kitchen.

Alison was across the way, leaning on a couch and gazing out the windows at the reflection of the city in the water. "I don't think I've seen the harbor from this high up. New York seems so peaceful when you see it from afar. The lights really do beckon, don't they?" He knew the view was stunning, that's why the location was expensive even for a Worthington. But he didn't buy it for the view. He bought it so that he could fly. That and the fact that he could see almost anything coming from a mile away made the place attractive to him.

"Perhaps they do for a singer, like you. I prefer keeping a distant vantage point when I can," Warren replied. "Things can get really ugly when you are on street level." He knew from personal experience just how ugly things could get. The attack in the Morlock tunnels that left him impaled by his natural wings still haunted his nightmares. Only the promise of flight via the metal wings created by Stark industries kept him from killing himself. Warren shook his head to clear it of dark thoughts. He wanted to show his better side to Alison. He uncorked a decanter and selected a cut crystal lowball glass. "Do you want a drink?" Warren asked. It had been a long time since he last entertained anyone up here; he needed to remember his manners.

He pulled out a second glass for her when suddenly she walked over to him and enfolded him in her arms from behind. He set the glass and decanter down so he wouldn't drop them from the shock of it. Her body leaned against his as she strained to nibble on his ear. His wings and increased muscle mass made that a difficult feat. He felt her breath warm on his neck as she said to him, "I think I would rather have something else entirely."

Amused, he felt a grin starting as he tipped his head to the side to encourage her. He expected to just have a couple of drinks tonight and to win her over at a later date. Although he didn't mind the idea of something more tonight, he needed to be certain they were on the same page. "Well tell me then, Alison, what do you want?"

She took his hand and backed away, gently pulling him along after her. "I thought you'd like to show me the part of the house that didn't have windows," she said, her eyes whispering promises as she led him towards a distant door. She impressed him with her guess as to which door held his bedroom, but she clearly didn't realize how much a winged mutant desired a quick egress.

"You won't find many spots like that here, except maybe the bathroom," he said, chuckling.

Alison's face grew pensive and her pace slowed. "You're laughing at me." His words had managed to wound her. Some gentleman he was.

"No, no, I'm not, I promise. It's just that I picked this place because it has windows all the way around. I like to see trouble coming in advance," he said, trying to recover the mood. He sped up and wrapped his arms around Alison's waist, "Here, let me get the door for you." Alison jumped a bit at his unexpected move but her curiosity drew her eyes into the bedroom beyond. He watched as she took in the dark blue tones of the room and the triangular wall sconces that gave off a soft, dim light so that the city lights beyond were visible in the darkness. The view here was always soothing to him. Warren hoped that she would like it just as much.

"Look at this room! I wouldn't have thought you were so fond of blue."

"Well now you know," he replied.

However, her eyes settled on the lower, single grey bed and she glanced over her shoulder at him, "What's the second bed for? Do you have some sort of living arrangement with someone?"

He needed to explain it to her but he choked on the words. No one else knew what his new wings cost him, but she deserved the truth. "Since I had the metal wings bonded to me, I can't sleep on my back without tearing up a normal bed. So I had a smaller, more durable bed made for the nights I need a break from sleeping on my stomach." He glanced away from her a bit. He didn't want to see pity or sorrow in her eyes.

Instead, he felt her turn inside the circle of his arms. When he met her eyes she said, "I'm glad you found a way out of your dilemma. I take it the large bed is more for recreation these days?" He let out the breath he was holding. Her eyes held no pity or revulsion at his revelation. He felt a weight lift off of his shoulders.

Warren turned her around the rest of the way so that she could see his face and he could clearly see hers. He looked down into those bright, sky blue eyes and leaned in close to her. "Well, it hasn't seen much recreation lately," Warren said smiling. "But perhaps you would like to change that?" A small, sweet smile crossed her face. Desire, so long dormant, flared once more. Hope and a wild, desperate longing seized him.

He hadn't felt desire for anyone since he lost Candy. Cameron Hodge, his traitorous friend, tried to kill him and when he failed he opted to kill his girlfriend Candy in front of him instead. From that day to this, grief had been his constant companion. He used alcohol to knock himself out at night. Then he used it to get through the dark, depressing days. In truth, he knew that he was just taking the slow train out. With the hope of flight he pulled himself out of his drinking spiral enough to get in shape so that he could bear the weight of the heavy wings. But gone were the feathered wings that made women swoon. There was nothing beautiful about these new ones. He felt like an anomaly among misfits. He needed physical contact, someone who could accept who he was, scars and all. Oh, sweet Alison, if only…

Whenever confusion, worry, or fear came over him, he moved. It was part of his training in the Danger Room. A moving target was harder to hit and it was better to do something rather than nothing. Or at least that's what his trainer, Wolverine, claimed. Those reflexes didn't shut off just because Warren wasn't in the field. Warren stepped past Alison and made a graceful turn at the foot of the bed. He extended an arm out to her with a flourish. It was a pose that had served him well in the past.

Alison's smile grew warmer and she came to him. He wrapped her in his arms, vowing to not let go this time.

With a care to not overwhelm her, Warren pressed his hands gently on Alison's shoulders until she lay back onto the down comforter. He enjoyed seeing her there at last. He touched her knee and when she did not pull away or gasp he slid his hands down her leg, feeling the curve of her muscle beneath the softness of her skin. With a skilled touch he quickly, but deftly removed her shoes for her. He was about to join her on the bed when she spoke saying, "Warren, could you get the curtains, please? I wasn't planning on performing for all of New York tonight." Personally, Warren thought it was New York's loss, but got up to close the light outer curtain. It was enough to give a sense of privacy but still allowed the light to come in. He didn't want to wake up screaming in the middle of the night, especially not with a guest here at last.

Warren walked over to join her on the bed again when she held up a hand for him to stop. He cocked his head questioningly, and she said, "Do you have any music? I would appreciate it." Of course Dazzler would want a bit of music around. Her powers ran off of it. He considered putting in one of her cd's, but if it was for defense he remembered that Dazzler couldn't use her own voice to create light beams or something like that. And if it was simply for background, it might seem weird to her to make love to the sound of her own voice. So he grabbed the remote from the wall cubby and flicked on the stereo system. Soft rock soon began to fill the room. Her reasons for wanting it really didn't matter. Warren could appreciate needing to keep a few demons down.

He gave her a slightly sardonic glance before asking in a joking way, "Will this suffice, my lady?" At her nod, he slid back down beside her. Her cool fingers played over his chest and her gaze wandered across his bare skin. Just this simple touch seared him and drew out a fierce and deep longing. He snaked a hand under her arm and laid the palm of his hand across her back in turn and drew her to him for a kiss. And oh, how good it felt.

He inhaled the scent of her mingled with her perfume. He felt the strength of her reaction to his kiss and knew she felt the power of it as well. He wanted her so much. Warren reminded himself to slow down and laid down a line of kisses across her neck and shoulder. Alison's breathing quickened at his touch and he pulled his face back along her skin to look at her. He caught her wince and tears were at the corners of her eyes. He rubbed his chin and felt the stubble sharp against his palm. Oh good grief, Warren, he thought. He glanced down at her and said, "It's not that bad is it? I can go and shave if..." He said it with as much nonchalance as he could muster, keeping his voice light. In truth, he was about ready to kick himself. Yeah, some suave moves you got there, Warren.

His darkening thoughts halted when she said, "No. No, that's not it Warren." She managed to smile at him although tears still wet her eyelashes.

"Well then, what is it? Do you want to stop?" He managed to choke out the words even though his heart sank. His gaze dropped to the floor. He couldn't bear the thought of losing her again. What the hell was his whole life cursed?

Her voice cut into his thoughts and he heard her say, "No, I've just wanted this for so long, it's hard to believe it's happening. That I'm here with you, that you really want me, too…" Her words cut off suddenly and he glanced over to see her covering her mouth as if to take the words back, her eyes were round with shock. So that was it? Ah, his old reputation had preceded him. Alison had been away for nearly 6 years. She didn't know that he had given up playing the field once he met Candy. Nor that he would have done the same for her. Well, this was one thing he could fix. He thanked whatever deities were watching over him for giving him the chance to set things aright.

His heart returned to its post and the dark clouds of his thoughts dissipated almost as fast as they arrived. He gave her his best devil-may-care grin and said, "Oh, so that's what you were worried about?" He timed his words to distract her while his right hand undid the hook and zipper holding his pants closed. "Well, Alison," he said as he let them fall to the floor. He tensed. When her eyes followed he movement of the fabric he leaped onto the bed and straddled her body in a single fluid movement and leaned down until there was no more than an inch of space between her and him and then whispered into her ear. "I've always wanted you. You're the one who broke things off, remember?" He could feel her squirming beneath him from the suddenness of his approach, but she stilled at his words. He knew the truth could hurt so he tried to take any sting out of the words by adding, "So I had better make this one count, eh?" And with that he leaned back and simply gazed down upon the beauty before him. Her hair was a lot shorter than it had been, but she managed to look as good in it as she ever had with it long. Her eyelashes were already beginning to dry, turning from a brown back into golden blonde.

He reached back into the cubbyhole and brought out a set of condoms that he kept in easy reach. "Do you want me to use these?" he asked her, holding them up so that she could see the gold packets for herself. She paused for a few heartbeats before answering.

"Only if you want to, I'm covered," she said and then blushed. It looked adorable on her. It seemed that his dear Dazzler wasn't used to talking about these things with her lovers. He wondered if it had been awhile for her as well. He stared at the condoms for a moment wondering just how old they were. Years probably, he realized, and the odds were good that they were not going to be reliable. He decided to take her at her word and dropped them to the floor. He moved so that he straddled her right thigh only; he didn't intend to start into the main event just yet. Instead he pulled another of his favorite moves and placed his fingers in a ring around her right arm and drew them down its length as he leaned back away from her.

He proceeded to give feather-light kisses to each of her fingertips. He closed his eyes to savor the feel and taste of her when she suddenly began to wiggle oddly. She wasn't trying to get away, he knew that, but he had no idea what she wanted to achieve other than to break his concentration.

"Just what are you doing?" he said, his words ringing out sharply even as his voice sank to an octave between rising anger and desire. The tone was harsher than he meant it but at least she stopped moving before she kneed him.

"Uh, I thought I should be doing a little more for you, you know," she replied. He took a few breaths to calm the vestiges of rage that tended to come out far too often after he lost his wings. He struggled to contain it, to keep from bringing it into the bedroom. He realized his grip had tightened on her arm to the point of becoming painful. Once he mastered his composure he relaxed his hold and glanced up at her, his face still hovering over her hand.

"Let me do this for you, Alison. I'm very good at it, I promise you. And I've never wanted anyone as much as I want you right now." And he knew it was true. Anger and passion wove a very tight line punctuated by the underlying fear that she would reject him after the loss of his wings, just as he had. He didn't want her to discover just how broken he had become lest she turned away. He needed her, and he wanted her, more than ever before. He had just this one chance to convince her there was something still worthwhile in him. He had only one chance to prove it to himself again as well.

Driven on by this new insight, he bent back to the task at hand. Kissing her wrist at the pulse point, he licked it with the very tip of his tongue. He blazed a line of kisses all the way up her arm and felt her shivers of pleasure. He stole a glance sideways at her and smiled to see her eyes were closed and her cheeks flush. Then he traced the path back again. Her eyes flickered open when he stopped. But she sighed as he poised himself over her and closed in to kiss her again on the lips.

She was clearly starting to relax and enjoy the moment with him. It seemed a shame to stop but he needed something before they could go farther. "Aren't you a bit overdressed?" he asked, his voice husky and rough even to his ears as he fingered the fabric of her shirt.

"Mmm, yeah, I guess you're right," she said as she glanced down. Warren took each of her hands by the fingertips and lifted her upright with ease. Having done pushups for months with only the tips of his fingers, her slight weight was not even a strain. He watched her as she pulled off her light blue top emblazoned with her trademark star and slipped his hands behind her as she focused on her jeans. By the time they fell, with her underwear following, he had her bra clasp undone and was lifting the straps free of her arms.

"You're a bit forward aren't you?" she said, grinning.

He smiled back, "You never get anywhere in this world if you don't go after what you want." He pulled the bra the rest of the way off before she could voice further protest. In his experience, getting past this part quickly led to the best results, and it was the same with Alison. She didn't try to cover herself, but simply lay back as she was. He drank in the sight of her.

"You're beautiful Ali. You should have gone for a more revealing costume." He imagined her top with the star cut out and wished he saw more of her body back in their training days. He leaned his head down to nuzzle her neck when he felt her slap his shoulder playfully.

"I wanted to be discovered for my talent, not for my curves, Mr. Worthington."

He moved so that he could answer her clearly. "Mr. Worthington? You pick the oddest times to become formal, dear. As for curves..." so saying, he took her hand and placed it against the dark fabric of his briefs.

"Well, I suppose fair's fair," Alison replied and he felt her pull his briefs down suddenly. She even tried to work them free, but the task was beyond her in their current entangled position. He was impressed that she had done as well as she had.

"You could have just asked. I would have been happy to strip them off for you," he said, half jesting.

"Where's the fun in that?" she replied and pulled his head down to her chest. She caught him off-guard and his body surged with need, leaving him weak for a moment. He faltered, his body dipping down to touch hers before he could prop himself up again on his arms. "You're no shy blossom, are you Alison? That's good. I like a woman who knows what she wants." Gaining control of himself once more he began to place a row of fiery, damp kisses under her chin. Then he blew a cool breath across them and watched her arch at the sensation, all of her words gone. She was lost in the moment.

When she could speak, at last, she surprised him. "What I want is you, Warren." The words were thick with her answering need. Warren planned to linger, to make it last. But a true gentleman always acquiesced to the desires of his lady.

He leaned his weight on one side so that he could see if she were truly ready. It seemed she was so he simply said, "Already? Well then, take me." He sat back on the bed, freeing her body. Realizing her need he kneeled on the bed and sat back on his heels, pulling her gently up after him with only his fingertips. He wrapped his hands around her waist, and then guided her gently, his hands and arms bearing her weight for her so that she could go at the pace she desired instead of all at once. He could hear her gasp in delight. The feeling was so good after so long that he had trouble focusing and his breath escaped him as his head fell back and his eyes closed as he allowed himself to savor the moment. As they sat entwined he could feel her lips upon his and he kissed her back.

A quiver of ecstasy passed through her and into him. She leaned down and began to kiss him more frantically, along his jaw, his lips, even his nose. But he felt her hands straying over his back and halted. She spoke before he could, "What's the matter? Do your wings still hurt?"

Grief welled up in him briefly, "More than you could ever know." He took a steadying breath and partially spread one wing. Prying open a sharp-bladed metallic feather he drew one of her fingers along the flat, near the wickedly sharp edge. Then shook his head as he kissed the finger and said, "Have a care, they're sharp." Folded up, the wings usually did not cause a problem, but he feared their exertions could cause her to cut herself. And that would be unforgivable for him to allow. He wanted to bring her pleasure, not cause her pain. He waited to make sure she heard and understood the risk.

Finally, she responded with "I understand, I'll-I'll be careful." Only then did he resume his efforts and he allowed a sigh of relief and enjoyment to escape him. Her hands moved past the scarred skin tissue where the wings joined his back and he could feel her body growing taut. She whimpered and she cried out wordlessly as the first orgasm broke over her. Then he stopped for a moment to cradle her head in his hands and to keep from peaking as well. He held her until her blue eyes opened and looked into his and then he began once more. He could feel a tension building in her again. He hoped that he could keep going long enough to bring her passion to fruition once again, but his own was coming soon he knew.

She shuddered against him, and he knew he had succeeded. He gave himself over to his own passion at last. He automatically swept his wings out as he did so, but caught himself before he attempted to envelope Alison within them. It was something that he did for all the women who had wanted to "sleep with an angel". They wanted to feel those huge, white wings enclose them. But his metal ones would cut her terribly. He stopped himself just in time, spreading them wide so that they draped on either side of the bed instead.

He opened his eyes to a beautiful, almost eerie sight of sea green rings of light cascading across his ceiling only to shatter upon the shining metal of his wings to form spots that chased each other down the walls. He wondered what he had done to draw out such an amazing response from her as he slowed down. His own orgasm overtook him, burying him under waves of exquisite release.

The dying refrains of "I Drove All Night" drifted over him and had probably powered Dazzler's personal light show. It looked quite soothing, actually, although a little warning would have been appreciated. He stopped at last and leaned in closer to kiss her. He traced the outline of her body with one hand while supporting some of his weight on the other. He tried not to lie directly on her lest the weight of his body and wings proved to be too much for her comfort. But despite his concerns and fears, it had been wonderful. And he didn't want to go back to the depression, the drinking, and the darkness. He wanted to be with her, here in the light. Coming to that conclusion, he pressed on while the moment felt right and said, "Ali, never leave me."

"Okay," came the soft reply, and she brushed his hair out of his eyes as he settled on his side, closing his wings up carefully and hanging them off of the side of the bed. He buried his head against her shoulder and felt like daylight had finally come into his life after a long period of rain. If only she could help him, if only she would stay, he would lay his world at her feet. He drifted off to sleep in the arms of the woman he had loved so long ago and still loved now, his own, his sweet, Alison.