Fanfic Angel and Dazzler 1 Alison's Tale

Author's note: I'm really looking for feedback on this one. The only way I can improve is by critique and this is a new genre for me to tackle. 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 two in it. ;) However, the story itself, once I have it perfected, is getting altered so that I can use it in my own works with my own characters. But believe me, it is easier to learn something new and take criticism 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 Warren'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 best fanfic never read on the net.

Old version:

At last they were alone in his penthouse suite. Warren's home had windows all over the place. That really shouldn't have surprised Alison given how much he loved flying. Currently the entire New York harbor and part of the city were visible, lit up by the city lights.

This far up, the noises were gone. There was only the beauty of the stark contrast of light and darkness.

"Do you want a drink?" came Warren's voice over the bar that connected to the kitchen. Frankly, there had been far too much drink involved in Warren's recent past for Alison's liking. So instead of answering, she left the couches that faced the view of the world outside and joined him in the kitchen.

"I think I would rather have something else entirely," she said as wrapped her arms around his bare chest and leaned up to nibble on his ear.

"Oh?" He said archly, cocking his head a bit more to the side to make it easier for her, not the least bit surprised or repentant. "Well, tell me then, Alison, what do you want?" His hands had set down the crystal tumbler and the decanter. This made her happy.

"I thought you might like to show me the part of the house that didn't have windows," Alison said, drawing Warren towards a doorway that was the most likely spot for a bedroom. Warren laughed in response, shocking her some.

"You won't find many spots like that here, except maybe the bathroom. But I do have shades I can pull in the bedroom, if you like." His eyes deepened from azure to sapphire as he spoke and his voice took on a rougher, huskier tone. Alison realized Warren probably enjoyed flying women up to his bedroom as part of the whole "Angel experience". She didn't care to think about his other conquests. His playboy ways had been well established in the tabloids and were one of the reasons she never made a play for him in the past. But with his wings gone, replaced by man-made mechanical ones, she didn't think he had pursued lovers as he once did. And that might be one of the reasons alcohol had become such a close friend. Well, that and the fact that he lost his wings in the first place. For Warren, his mutation was his life. His wings defined him and made him look like an angel while he played the devil.

But Alison didn't want to focus on that right now. She didn't want to think too much about things lest she lose her nerve. She had wanted Warren for so long, but she was from middle-class America and he was one of the wealthiest and most desired bachelors in the world, his mutation not withstanding. But she had eschewed his advances in the end. She wasn't looking to be another one-night-stand. She couldn't stand the idea of becoming just a notch on his belt and she feared it would have hurt them in the field if their relationship had changed and gone any farther than it had in the past. But that was then, and this is now.

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

The elevator hummed with desire. It rode along with the occupants like a building storm. Warren's home had windows all over the place. Alison stayed silent on the ride up, watching Warren's shoulders grow tense as they rose. The metal wings made a susurrus as he shifted with impatience. She doubted he even realized it.

"We're here," he said and she saw him pull his elevator key free as the doors suddenly opened to a vast room. The entire back wall was covered in windows from top to bottom. That really shouldn't have surprised Alison given how much he loved flying.

Alison stepped out wonderingly and took in the stunning view. Currently she could see all of the city and part of the harbor lit up by the glow of the city lights. This far up, the noises were gone. There was only the beauty of the stark contrast of light and darkness. "Wow, the view from here is amazing," she heard herself say.

Warren's voice echoed from a side room, "Go ahead and enjoy it. I'll join you in a minute." Alison ran a hand along the fabric of the seats near the window. They appeared to fit together like a couch but the back that started off high on one end curved down next to nothing. It must be a concession to deal with the new wings, she decided. She wondered how he managed things after the surgery. She ran a finger along the couch with a new appreciation.

Hearing the steps of his return, Alison continued their conversation. "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?

Warren came around the floating staircase and headed towards the kitchen area. He was bare-chested now and she could see the definition of his muscles even from across the room. He raised an eyebrow at her and said, "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." Alison looked back at the lights of the city and wondered what Angel saw when he stood here.

"Do you want a drink?" Came Warren's voice over the bar connected to the kitchen. Frankly, there had been far too much drink involved in Warren's recent past for Alison's liking. She needed to distract him, but was she really ready for this? Looking up at him, she realized she wanted him. All these years and he was the one she had always wanted. So instead of answering, she left the couches that faced the view of the world outside and joined him in the kitchen.

"I think I would rather have something else entirely," she said as she wrapped her arms around his bare chest and leaned up to nibble on his ear.

"Oh?" He said archly, cocking his head a bit more to the side to make it easier for her, not the least bit surprised or repentant. "Well, tell me then, Alison, what do you want?" She saw his hands set down the crystal tumbler and the decanter. This pleased her.

Glancing behind her, she guessed which doorway led to his bedroom. She took his hand in hers and backed away, pulling him along with her gently. "I thought you'd like to show me the part of the house that didn't have windows." She held his gaze as she walked backward with a cat-like step.

"You won't find many spots like that here, except maybe the bathroom," he said to her, chuckling. Alison slowed in surprise. She gave him her best come hither look and this is what she got for it?

"You're laughing at me," she said, sounding hurt. So much for being seductive, maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. Alison probably wouldn't even break Warren's top ten no matter how she felt about him. He'd use her and throw her away and she'd be alone again, just like she always feared. Doubt crept in.

"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 quickly and then he moved even quicker. Alison started as Warren closed the space between them in the blink of an eye. She found herself suddenly pressed against the bare skin of his chest as one strong arm encircled her waist as the other brushed against her arm as it reached past her. "Here, let me get the door for you." Her eyes followed the opening door and she took in Warren's bedroom. True to his word, the lights of the city blazed through the full-length windows of the far wall. The wall behind the bed was a dark charcoal, lit softly by a pair of triangular wall sconces. Rich blue carpets covered the floor and even the comforter on the huge bed sported a single large matching stripe of the same blue.

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

"Well now you know," he replied.

The rest of the room was austere, everything tucked away behind hidden cabinets. Her eyes settled on a lower, single grey bed and she looked back at him and asked, "What's the second bed for? Do you have some sort of living arrangement with someone?" It wasn't attractive, and looked rather like the kind of spot a medical aid might nap. Was this from Warren's recovery?

Warren coughed slightly then said, "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 wouldn't meet her eyes. She realized from his reaction that no one else knew about this.

She carefully turned inside the circle of his arms. Warren's face looked so vulnerable suddenly. So she waited for him to meet her eyes before saying, "I'm glad you found a way out of your dilemma. I take it the large bed is more for recreation these days?"

It was clear that her words weren't the ones he had been expecting. When he finally looked at her, she didn't flinch under his intense scrutiny. She could feel the tension leave his muscles as he realized she meant it, and then a smile crept onto his face. He leaned in close to her and said, "Well it hasn't seen much recreation lately, but perhaps you would like to change that?"

His eyes held passion, but also a hopeful pleading. The odds were good that Warren was just as lonely as Alison had been. Bedding a rich playboy had always seemed like a losing proposition for a girl who wanted a long-term relationship. But Alison wound up avoiding any relationship longer than a weekend in order to keep her secret safe. Her love affairs since the one fling with Bobby, her teammate, had been exactly what she was trying to avoid: short, meaningless, and often because of her stardom as a singer rather than for who she really was. She managed to suppress a bitter laugh at the thought although a pained smile came to her face. The low lighting was on her side, though, for Warren took it to be one of happiness.

He stepped past her, into the room made a graceful turn at the foot of the bed, and reached out a single hand to her in invitation with a flourish. Her smile turned genuine and she took the last steps into the room, into his arms, and into destiny.

Warren's shirtless skin glowed under the soft light of the wall lamps. His wings reflected it down his well-muscled body. Alison compared his new physique, built to carry the heavy, metal wings; to the lean, lithe boy she used to know. She liked him then and she still liked him now.

His hands were gentle as he laid her back against the soft down of the comforter. Of course it was down, Alison couldn't believe she hadn't realized it from the start. It felt as soft as a cloud and his hands were warm as they caressed her legs and removed her shoes from her feet. She gently reminded him about the windows and he turned good-naturedly to close the thin veil ones, but made no move to block more of the light from outside. As he returned, Alison held up her hand to stop him and asked, "Do you have any music? I would appreciate it." As a reply, Warren reached into a dark cubby next to the bed that she hadn't even noticed. A simple flick of the remote in his hand bathed the room with the sounds of soft rock.

He gave her a sideward glance, one eyebrow arching higher as he asked, amused, "Will this suffice, my lady?" She nodded and he stretched out beside her on the bed. Alison felt the heat coming off his skin, the muscles taut beneath, as she brushed her fingers against him. She leaned her head against his chest, reveling in the moment. She felt a slight pang of trepidation, as much as she wanted this, wanted him, a part of her still feared he would leave her come morning. But his hand reached under her arm and across her shoulder to pull her against him. His eyes became a stormy blue just before their lips touched and the electrifying rush of his kiss filled her.

Her breath came in short, hungry gasps and a shudder ran across her as too many emotions caged for far too long sought release. Tears sprung to her eyes as his kisses traced a trail of desire along her throat and shoulder. The rough traces of his beard, nearly invisible blonde needles, ran back across the line he made emphasizing the reality of the moment. He caught her wince and paused at the fullness of the tears she fought to hide.

Warren ran a hand over his chin, "It's not that bad is it?" But his frown suggested that maybe he thought it was. "I can go shave if…"

"No. No, that's not it Warren," she said, managing to smile at his honest misunderstanding and the concern in his tone. Warren's ego was probably a bit fragile right now as well.

"Well then, what is it? Do you want to stop?" he managed to say, but she could see the hurt in his eyes even though he tried to keep his tone even. The mighty Angel wasn't used to rejection and with his wings clipped; she might be the first one he had opened up to since they were removed. It was strange to see the mighty Warren Worthington III act like a nervous college kid. He always seemed so untouchable with money, power, and those wings that would carry him away anywhere, that Alison had lost sight of the fact that he was still human underneath. Her worry about him leaving her after just one night melted away in the face of the hurt only partially masked in his beautiful blue eyes.

"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…" Alison's hand flew up to her mouth. Damn! What an awful thing to say! Maybe he didn't catch it?

His eyes lightened a bit with humor and a wicked, heart-stopping grin crossed his face. "Oh, so that's what you were worried about? Well, Alison," Warren had managed to undo the clasp of his black dress pants and they fell to the ground between one moment and the next. As her eyes followed them down, he was suddenly upon her, his broad chest hovering a mere inch from her own as he leaned down, his whiskers tickling her ear as he breathed into it saying, "I've always wanted you, Alison. You're the one who broke things off before, remember?" Alison squirmed a bit from the rough beard hairs, but stopped at his words, "So I had better make this one count, eh?" And with that he pulled back from her, and sat straddling her in black briefs gazing down at her seeming to just drink in the sight of her. Then he pulled away and stood one last time to reach inside the dark shelf that held the remote. He brought out a set of gold foil packets and held them up. "Do you want me to use these?" It took her a minute to realize he was offering to use a condom.

"Only if you want to, I'm covered." She blushed a bit although it was a perfectly reasonable question. He cocked a golden eyebrow for a moment and looked her up and down before coming to a decision and tossing them down and climbing back into bed. He knelt, straddling her right thigh, and took her arm into his hands. With smooth, gentle, practiced grace he leaned back and let her arm slide away through his fingers, brushing the tips down her skin until he held only her hand. Then he bent his head down to lightly kiss each fingertip.

This was too much. It was completely different than any of her other encounters; she should be doing something. She began to wriggle to escape and prop herself up on the pillows so she could lean forward and participate.

"Just what are you doing?" Warren's voice came from over her hand, both husky and commanding in its tone. His grip tightened unpleasantly on her arm. She stopped moving immediately.

"Uh, I thought I should be doing a little more for you, you know." Her face grew hot at the look in his eyes, so dark now as to be oceans beneath storm clouds. She felt his fingers slowly relax. He didn't even fully lift his head, he simply looked up at her from under the spikes his blonde hair made.

"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." With that he turned her wrist over and kissed it, his tongue snaking out to lightly mark the spot afterward. Alison shivered in unexpected waves of sensation and laid back against the pillows as he bid. She really had never had a man do anything quite like this before. Her lovers while on tour in Europe were interested in having sex with a star, not really her. And she always had to be so careful to make sure no one discovered the truth that she was a mutant. Even her time with Bobby was completely different. She had pretty much seduced him. As fun as it had been, she had been the aggressive one, not him.

Warren kissed her wrist and wandered up her arm placing kisses all along it. She knew him and she could trust him. She could finally just let go and really feel what was happening. A sigh escaped her and her eyes closed as Warren's lips returned to hers. A smile played upon his lips as he kissed her, she could feel it. Her eyes opened languidly, part of her already lost to his sensual touch.

"Aren't you a bit overdressed?" Warren asked, lifting up the edge of her shirt with one finger inquiringly. Alison looked down and realized that she was more clothed than he was.

"Mmm, yeah, I guess you're right." Warren pulled her up with just his fingertips, and left her wondering just how strong he was now and if she was up for whatever he had in mind. But she stripped off her star-blazed top and slid to the edge of the bed to divest herself of her black jeans. As she took them off, she felt Warren's hands at her back. The bra unclasped at his touch before her jeans hit the floor.

"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." And he gently pulled her bra loose and down her arms before she had a chance to become self-conscious. Somehow, having it gone so suddenly, she didn't feel like she needed to be modest. And it seemed to please him even more.

"You do realize you are beautiful, right Ali? You really should have gone for a more revealing costume." Warren leaned down to nuzzle her neck and she hit him lightly on the shoulder.

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

He lifted himself slightly with one arm and said, "Mr. Worthington? You pick the oddest times to become formal, dear. As for curves..." With those words he guided her hand down to the fabric of his briefs.

"Well, I suppose fair's fair," Alison said as she pulled his briefs as far down his legs as she could manage from where she was. His eyes crinkled in amusement at her sudden boldness.

Moving carefully to work them the rest of the way down while not leaving his spot over her he said, "You could have just asked. I would have been happy to strip them off for you." His voice was rich with amusement.

"Where's the fun in that?" she replied, and pulled his head down to her chest.

There was a sudden dipping along his spine before he managed to catch himself and prop himself up on his arms over her. "You're no shy blossom, are you Alison? That's good, I rather like a woman who knows what she wants." He laid a line of fiery, damp kisses under her chin and then leaned in to gently blow cool air over her tingling skin. Even Bobby had not thought to play with heat and cold when they had been together. Warren was very good at what he did indeed.

"What I want is you, Warren," she said, the words nearly halting on her tongue as goose bumps rose on her skin.

She felt his weight shift to one side as he looked down at her. "Already? Well then, take me." He sat back and pulled her up along with him as though she weighed no more than a feather and guided her, lowering her tantalizingly slowly, letting her choose the pace.

She gasped in pleasure. His eyes were closed and his face tilted up to hers so she bent down to kiss it. A long, slow shudder of ecstasy cascaded across her. Her hands flew up to his chest, she couldn't help it or contain her reaction to him. She couldn't tell for certain if it was an orgasm or not, so lost in pleasure was she, but Alison hoped it wasn't. She didn't want the moment to end yet. Not ever.

She pressed her face down into his hair and kissed his jaw line, his lips, even the tip of his nose, but as her hands flew over his shoulders he froze. Worried, she asked, "What's the matter? Do your wings still hurt?"

Pain rather than pleasure flashed over his features as he said, "More than you could ever know." Her heart felt his grief. But then he stretched one of his wings out, cupping it carefully around them. She felt his hands draw hers up towards a single, cruelly sharpened blade that made up the "feathers" of his new wings. She shuddered slightly as he drew one of her fingers down the hard metal, close to the cutting edge. Just as she began to worry what he intended to do, he shook his head and kissed her finger, simply saying, "Have a care, they're sharp."

He seemed to be waiting for something so she said, "I understand, I'll-I'll be careful." Now a sigh escaped him as Alison's hands moved slower over his shoulders and brushed lightly against the metal curve where the wings joined his back. Smooth metal, warm from their exertions answered her touch. Now a true orgasm was building up in her, powerful as an ocean wave. She could not hope to stop it or control it so she rode it, a whimper coming from her as it picked her up and carried her towards its crest. And then the wave crested, carrying her in its wake. She cried out. She could feel him responding to her need. At last he paused and just held her, his hands cradling her head. Her lips parted and she reached for a steadier breath. When her eyes opened she saw him staring down at her as though waiting for this cue. And he began again. The song "I Drove All Night" came on and Alison wondered what would happen if she let her own powers loose at play while they made love. Nothing terrible had happened from allowing herself to be in the moment. But she wanted to know what would happen if she did use her powers. Warren knew her, and as a fellow mutant, he would not reject her for it. She was safe with him, and she needed to know.

Carefully, she let the song seep into her, mingling deep in her core. Her breath hitched as arousal began to sweep her once again towards the dizzying heights of pleasure. This time she let everything within her go as she hit the crest. For a moment, her breath stopped, time stopped, and as she sighed out at last she opened her eyes to gaze upon a blue-green shimmer playing across her body and his. The light touched his metal wings and threw patterns, like light on water, across the ceiling, the headboard, and the walls.

Warren's body was growing tenser, and he gasped out, his wings snapping open wide and startling her as his eyes opened and he saw the shimmering light's patterns wandering down his walls. He gazed about in surprise and wonder as he slowed down.

She felt the tension break within him. Slick with the sweat of their entwined bodies, he leaned in to kiss. Separating, he ran his hands ran down her body, and traced its outline. It was wonderful, it was perfect, and she was surprised when he said, "Ali, never leave me."

"Okay," she said, and brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes as he settled beside her, his wings hanging off the edge of the bed as he held her and buried his head against her shoulder. Looking down at him, Alison wondered which of them had been afraid of this encounter more. The singer who never believed a playboy could honestly love her, or the broken Angel who thought that no one could love him again.