A Great and Terrible Beauty

Summary: It's true. A great beauty is terribly dangerous.

--- --- ---

"Where is he? Where is he? Where is he?" I fiddle nervously with my white gloves. Unconsciously, I roughly tear my gloves from my fingers, exposing my bone thin fingers to the frigid cold air as I wait for my guardian outside the front door of Spence Academy. The gloves are once again hugging about my fingers and hands, only to be yanked off a breath later.

He's late.

"Gemma! Oh, Gemma, there you are!" The distant call of Felicity's delicate voice reaches my ears, grasping my full attention. And, there she was, with Ann struggling to keep up with the bright blond's brisk steps. She probably would not be so tempted to run and keep up, if she would simply put down that ridiculous yarn ball she's been fiddling with since early this morn.

I smile slightly, "Yes, I've just been looking for the two of you as well." I lie.

Felicity looks as though she doesn't believe me, in which case I am not surprised. It never seizes to amaze me how she detect things so keenly. It is almost as though she has a sixth sense! Her crystalized eyes narrow to mere paper cut slits and begins to purse those pink cotton-filled lips of hers, "I'm sure. Oh!" Her eyes widen to become the size of perfectly shaped snowball and she breaks into, what I call, 'the world's largest grin', "You won't believe- Oh, Ann, if you do not put that blasted yarn ball down, I will be forced to toss it to the lake!"

Ann swallows hard, knowing full well that Felicity never throws around empty threats. She untangles her meaty fingers from the web of yarn and tucks it away in her heavy coat. I latch my fingers gently around Felicity's forearm, lightly tugging on her in order to get her attention, "Ok, she's put it away. Now, tell me what I won't believe!" I can hardly tell how excited I sound until it finally bounces back to me, but I honestly don't care.

Lately, whenever Felicity has something to tell us that we "won't believe", it's usually been something we really wouldn't, "Grandmama is coming to Spence for a visit!"

"Oh!" I truly hope the expression on my face, or the tone in my voice, does not display just how deeply disappointed I am to hear this. Don't get me wrong, though, I love Mrs. Worthington as though she were my own grandmother, it's just that I was expecting something a little more...exciting, "She is, is she?"

"Yes! I told her that we would be meeting up with her at the train station when she arrives. But, she shouldn't be in town for a few more hours, though, so, I thought we could just hang out together until then."

No! "Well," I begin slowly, "I'm kind of...waiting for someone."

"Oh, not a problem!" She waves the situation off with a flick of her wrist, and I exhale gratefully. I knew she'd understand, "She can come with us! It would be great to see a new face, for once, because, to be quite honest with you, seeing the same turned up noses can be quite the bore." I could have sworn I just choked on my spit right there.

Ann must have noticed my shocked expression, because she smirks slightly and places her hand lightly on Felicity's left shoulder, "Fee, I don't think she really wants us around when her guest comes."

I mentally curse Ann for stating that so harshly. She notices my silent glare and quickly decides to turn back to her mass of tangled string while I avert my eyes back to Felicity, "Fee, I didn't mean-"

"Forget it," Her cut off is rude, as she begins to glare at me once more, but I must admit that I rightly deserve it. Who's the one blowing off her friends for a guy, again? "It is obvious that you have more important people to attend to, than to spend time with your closest, and might I mention your only, friends." Her words pierce me like daggers, but, once again, I must admit that I rightly deserve it.

My tongue is heavy, and so I make no move to respond to her comment. What was I suppose to say anyway? Felicity takes my silence in triumph and tosses me a roll of her eyes, accompanied by a cool laugh. She grabs hold to Ann's hand and they briskly make leave. Only Ann turns back around to face me, and that is only to cast me an apologetic glance and a sympathetic smile.

I sigh sadly and sink down on the cold steps, "How could I be so shallow?"

"Yes, indeed, Miss Doyle." My eyes shoot up at the sudden voice that I have been waiting to hear for the past hour.

Kartik.

He takes my hand to help me to my feet and I glower at him, "You're late."

"Terribly sorry, Miss Doyle, I'll be sure to be more prompt in the future."

I nod understandingly. There's something about him, today, that causes my anger at him to wither away like a crumpled Fall leaf. Perhaps it's that dazzling smile that seems to grip my heart every time it flashes my way, "Are you ready?"

He makes no comment about the tremble in my voice, in which I am grateful for, and nods, "I am. What about you?"

I can't help but give a hardy, 'Ha!' at this comment, "Oh please, Mr. Kartik, I was positively born ready."

There goes that horrible seductive grin again! I shiver involuntarily, "Right, then. May we move onto a more warmer atmosphere? And let's not waste the day by having a put down match, hmm?"

"Fine." I head towards the front door of the building, only to be stopped short when Kartik grabs my wrist and pulls me back, "What on Earth-"

"The front door, Gemma? Come on, Miss Doyle, I thought you had more common sense than that." His statement is followed by a short chuckle, letting me know that he's only jesting with me.

I smile, "Fine. This way, then." My fingers tightly clutch the skirt of my white dress, and my legs pump fast as I hurriedly lead Kartik to the long vine rope that hangs from my room window. I grasp it tightly in the palm of my hand and give it a fierce tug, just to make sure it's still sturdy.

Kartik quirks an eyebrow at me, "You intend to climb that, Miss Doyle?"

I turn around to face him, "Of course. How else did you plan on us getting in, hmm? Flying perhaps?"

He laughs in amusement at my comment, but says nothing about it. Instead, he just motions for me to start climbing, and I do. Immediately after, he is following close behind me.

Grab hold. Pull high. Scoot up. That's right.' I chant this same pattern over in my head continuously as I do each step. It seems to work too, because I make it to the sill rather quickly. I could just kiss Ann for her deep interest in nature and her nagging insistence that we keep the window open at all times during the day. I clumsily scramble into the room, but Kartik glides in with the grace of a stealth cat. I can't tell if he's just use to doing these sort of things, so that's why he's so good at it, or if he's just trying to show off. If showing off is indeed the case, I'm not at all impressed. Greatly, that is.

"I see you've made quite a few alterations since my last visit." He comments, nodding towards the new pictures that deck the walls and the greenery that adorns the vanity.

"Yes, they were Ann's idea."

"Ann. Ann," he ponders aloud, "She's the isolated one, is she not?"

I nod, removing my coat and boots, "She is."

"Well, then," he nods in approval, "she has very nice taste in decor."

I'm desperate for his attention to be back on me, so I make no comment on that subject, but pull out the thing that he was here for in the first place, "I'll be sure to let her know. Shall we begin now?"

He too pulls off his coat and boots, signaling that he was ready. We take a seat on the floor, sitting Indian-style. I pull out my homemade deck of cards and pass them out, giving both of us twenty-one cards, placing down two piles of five cards in the center. The two piles are separated by two stacks that contain only one card each. From our deck of twenty-one cards each, we take five without looking and place the other sixteen face down beside us. We look at our five cards and study them like another language.

Finally, Kartik peeks over his hand to look at me, "You ready, Miss Doyle?"

I took look up from my cards and smile, "As always, Mr. Kartik."

Together, we each place one hand over either one of the two cards in the center, the decks of one. In unison, we flip them over. The card that I flipped over became a six of hearts and Kartik's card became a three of diamonds. In the flash of light, we turn back to our hands and slap down our cards. I place a seven of clubs over the six at the same time that Kartik places a two of spades over the three.

"Oh, blast you, Kartik, I was going to put a four over that three!" He laughs at my aggravation.

"Well, then, I guess you'll just have to be quicker, now won't you?"

We continue this for what seems to be a decade. He slaps down another six, so I place a five. He puts down an ace and I put down at two. Soon after, he tosses out a three, and I choose that moment to slap down my awaiting four. This game of fast hand movements and quick thinking goes on and on until, finally, I place down my final card: a nine of clubs. Triumphantly, I squeal in delight and shout the name of the game in victory, "Speed! Ha, I win!"

Kartik tosses down his last three cards in defeat, a feigned pout displayed across his features, "No fair, you distracted me."

"There's no room for sore losers and spoiled sports here, Mr. Kartik," I giggle, "only the survival of the fittest! Plus, I said nothing to you during the whole game, how could I have distracted you?"

"How could you not?"

'Is it just me, or has the room suddenly gotten smaller and stuffy?', I think with a pounding heart, "Kartik-" He silences me with the one thing I least expect, especially coming from someone as independent and mysterious as Kartik, a tender lingering kiss. My palms begin to sweat so badly, until I'm afraid I've made an eighth ocean. His hand, hesitant at first, presses firmly to the back of my neck. It's like a trigger, and I begin tingling in places of my body I didn't even know I had.

His tongue asks for permission to access the inner chamber of my mouth, an access that I'm all but too willing to oblige to. 'Stop it, Gem, stop it right now!' My mind is racing, 'No, keep going. Don't let it end. Never let it end!' I'm battling myself on choosing the right thing. 'Gemma, you must stop this nonsense immediately. It isn't like a lady to open up herself to a man out of wedlock. You can't do this! No, yes you do! No, no you don't! Yes, yes you do! Stop it! Keep going! Stop it! Keep going! Oh, somebody, anybody, help me!'

His other arm snakes around my waist, pulling me close until I can feel his heartbeat. It's exploding out of control just as much as my own. For some reason, this gives me comfort. I'm ecstatic that he's gentlemanly enough not to do anything rash, but I'm surprised and a little disappointed that he's going so slow. My hand rises up against his broad chest, gliding up until my hands rest on his shoulders, 'Gemma, what are you doing, you foolish girl! Stop this at once!'

He moans deeply when my tongue grazes his own, pressing against it. My fingers are shaky in their haste to undo the buttons of his loose fitting shirt, and he moves from my lips to my cheek, down to my jaw, and rests on my neck. I had no idea what ecstasy felt like, but I think I may have a good concept now. My eyes flutter like butterflies until they finally shut, a content sigh signaling that I was enjoying his slow torture.

'Oh dear sweet Lord, Gemma Gem, what are you getting yourself into? You past up a chance to spend time with your friends for this? For the sake of losing your maidenhood? But, I deserve it, right? I don't think I've had any peace since the situation of the Order and the matter of Circe. I've yet to enjoy myself, yet to relax. I want to forget everything, for right now, and focus on the matter at hand. Kartik.'

The kisses that trail down from my neck to my collarbone feels intensely warm, and I find myself longing to keep this feeling now and forever. His fingers tug gently at the neck of my dress hesitantly. I can't help but laugh quietly at his, 'He's afraid to touch me.' I think, 'I guess I need to show him that Gemma Doyle isn't exactly the petty little fragile doll that he thinks I am.' With a light shove, I move Kartik away from me. The sudden wave of cool air on my neck is uncomfortable, and it is just a second later that I realize just how badly I want him near again, but I restrain myself and proceed to stand up.

His brows furrow into a long caterpillar across his forehead, "I've upset you. I'm sorry, Gem- Miss Doyle, I didn't-" I silence him by pressing a finger gently to his, now swollen, lips.

"Shhh, don't be sorry. I'm not cross with you, and I don't plan on lashing out at you. After this moment, no more words will be needed. No more words will need to be said." I realize just how deep those words are, and images of us tangled together beneath my sheets flash before my eyes. I feel myself moistening at the thought, 'Oh wow. I'm actually getting...excited about this. Come on, Gemma Gem, there's still time to go back," I undo my gown in a slow manner, purposely trying to torture him, 'There's still a chance for you to go meet Ann and Felicity,' The dress pools around my ankles, and I begin removing my underclothes. It's quite easy to do, until I get to my blasted corset, that is, 'I do believe that this is a sign. It is a sign clear as day that reads: Gemma, you fool, stop being ridiculous and redress yourself, less you plan on being scarred for life!' I ignore this, and, as seductive as I possibly can, I pull at the strings, unlacing the white material.

I could have sworn I just saw his eyes go completely midnight black.

'Looks like I'm not the only one who's anxious,' I sigh, relieved that the hard part was done. I've gotten the corset untied without a sign of pain or discomfort displaying across my face. I'm so proud of myself that I could grin, but I restrain myself. The corset falls, and rests in the nook of my lower arms so that it covers up all but the top hill of my breasts, resulting in a longing groan from my gypsy.

I'm killing him, and I like it.

His voice is hoarse, "Gemma, please."

"Please what?" I question in a coo, like a mother talking baby talk to her newborn.

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Teasing me like that. It's unbearable!"

I raise an eyebrow, a smirk twitching at the corner of my lips, "Are you sure?"

His eyes skim over my exposed legs, "Yes."

"But, I'm a lady. You're suppose to be the gentleman and tell me to stop."

"Ge-mma! Please?"

My smirk becomes a grin, 'Don't do it! Don't do it! Don't do it!' The corset falls. I'm exposed. The secrets that have been locked up in my diary for so long are now being consumed, like air, to the one person who has served as the enemy of my past. But, I don't care.

For the first time in my life, I feel feminine. I feel noticed. I feel...beautiful. I pull out the eight pins that hold up my mass of dark hair in a messy bun atop my head. The long tendrils fall and drip down my shoulders and back, brushing against my clammy skin. I'm sweating like woman going into labor. Shaking my head furiously left and right, I let my hair fan out all over me, trying to go for the wild look.

His eyes seem to grow darker by this and he licks his lips over and over and over and over. He's longing.

I've decided to put the poor man out of his misery, so I drop to the floor, on all fours, like a cat, letting my hair fall in my face. I creep over to him slowly, moving with grace of a predatoriol cheetah ready to pounce upon her prey. Never in my life have I ever felt so alluring. The feeling is absolutely fantastic, and I long to keep this feeling for as long as possible. The Order and the realms are not on my mind. The Rakshana does not faze me a bit. Circe does not exist in my brain. Mrs. Nightwing and Spence are vague images in my head. Felicity and Ann do not register at all. And Pippa, poor Pippa, has not come to my mind once.

I'm light. I'm stressless. I'm free.

Finally, I make it to Kartik, and it looks like he is mere milliseconds from tossing me to the floor and taking me here and now. I move to his ear, whispering hotly against his skin until I'm sure that the hair on his neck is standing on end, "Thank you, Kartik."

I feel beautiful and almost as though the whole world is focused on me and me alone. Now, I wonder how long it will take for me to break him. Heaven only knows. But, after this moment, I know for a fact that Kartik will go home with a new lesson fresh on his mind:

It's true. A great beauty is terribly dangerous.

--- --- ---

A/N: Please, no flames in your reviews for this! I've never attempted anything like this and I've never worked with this story. And yes, I know, it's quite a bold approach for a fourteen-year-old girl, like me, to start my first "A Great and Terrible Beauty" fic with an M rated story. I just had to get this out, though, because I wanted your opionion on it. I hope you didn't think I was too bold, though! Thanks for reading!