Face to Face
By Felicia Ferguson
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Paradise Found, The Beast Within, Creatures of the Dark (was it just me or was that ep less than stimulating?), Tribute, and Absolute Power
Author's Note: Did anyone else wonder that in three back-to-back episodes (after that wonderful series of kisses) Marguerite and Roxton were barely in the same scenes together, let alone trading insults? And then one episode later, everything was back to normal? Hmmm...methinks there is a fanfic here!
1/?
She was still avoiding him and it had been almost three weeks since their conversation on the balcony in which he first accused her of doing so. He didn't know what was more infuriating: her casual disregard for something that had shattered his views about her or that she refused to be alone with him for any amount of time.
"'A disaster waiting to happen.' She's right and you know it, Roxton," the hunter muttered to himself as he passed through the treeline and toward the clearing. "What the devil were you thinking? There's no future in it. How could you let some kisses go to your head like some snot-nosed school boy?"
But in truth it wasn't just the feel of her lips against his, though that the largest part of it. What happened between them had been building since they had first paddled up the Amazon. "As far as you know, she has no nobility to recommend her, regardless of how much money she has. Mother would hate her. Such audacity and arrogance -- there's not a proper bone in her body."
He knew all of the rationalizations -- had repeated them to himself from day one -- and yet there was no accounting for feelings. "Dammit! You're a bloody fool," he berated as he lined up his sight, eyes tracking the plateau for any sign of dinner.
[Ah, but maybe that's why you're drawn to her, chided his conscious. Besides, when have you ever wanted a prim and proper anything?]
Roxton sighed and lowered his rifle. It was true. Having seen more than his share of London Seasons and the meat markets they entailed, he counted himself lucky to have escaped the claws of some sweet, young debutante. Instead, he always seemed to be drawn to the scandalous girls. Though they were more apt to
not marry at all, he often thought they were the most truthful. None pretended to be searching for more than a meal ticket and there were a few who were highly successful. Most out of that limited number ended up as mistresses to wealthy nobles or in a some instances, married to much older men who were soon to die and leave them very wealthy widows.
He sometimes wondered which category Marguerite fell into. Had she married some old geezer just to have the comfort of extreme wealth? Or had she instead selected a consort with a very generous heart? Either way, he knew she had never been grouped with the sweet ones. A small smile flickered over his lips
at the thought of Marguerite in her first Season.
Those beautiful blue eyes dazzling some worthy prey even as she mentally weighed his purse. He knew his first instincts had been correct; he should have thrown her to the wolves. But one thing that had stayed him was the niggling idea that she had already been there and back too many times to count.
And yet, he hadn't lied when he'd said he trusted her. He did. He trusted Marguerite to first and foremost look out for Marguerite. She would rescue the rest of the party because she realized that she wouldn't survive out here on her own. But beyond that that brutal truth, there lay something more. Something that neither could outright deny existed between them and when she had dismissed their kiss and the wealth of feeling it had generated, it hurt, like a piece of his heart had been cut out.
Nevertheless, "Paradise fruit" or not, there had been two in that kiss. And when he had said, "Later," he had meant just that, especially since "later" also entailed putting some distance between a world that was too good to be true and hopefully, bringing back some sense of reality. Unfortunately, between that night in her tent and the next day, she had lost the fruit-induced happiness and slammed those walls back up. Even though he was glad to see her return to her normal self, if Marguerite had her way, "later" would never occur.
The day following their conversation, Challenger and Summerlee had decided to explore the area in search of various plants and the protector in him had felt honor bound to accompany them, leaving Marguerite and Veronica at the treehouse. Little did he know that a trip that should have taken only a few hours would
expand into a two day search for the plants themselves, only to lead to a run-in with a possessed shaman.
And then, the supposed clan in the caves. Yet another opportunity to talk was neatly diverted by the mysterious heiress. Instead of staking her usual claim on the pond, she had chosen to follow one of the many rivers downstream in search of a way home while Roxton had remained in the treehouse with Summerlee in order to restock their armory. After the volcano had erupted and the trio had been freed from the cave, the first words they'd spoken to each other in more than weeks were a pair of hastily traded insults. If looked at in a certain light, their behavior was almost amusing. Unfortunately, Roxton didn't see the situation in that certain light.
At least, something good had come from the German pilot's short visit a few days later. Gone were the stiff silences between them, even though they had yet to return to their normal bickering. Summerlee had mentioned, just in passing, some of the things that had occurred, but mainly, much to Roxton's displeasure,
had glossed over the particulars, ending the conversation with, "Maybe we've all been given a new chance."
Much as the older man would probably deny it, Roxton knew Summerlee had a soft spot for Marguerite. She, alone, was the one whom he advised, with whom he shared secrets. How appropriate was it that he was the one to encourage her to take a new step. "If only she would take it in my direction," Roxton grumbled as he eased a branch out of his way and stepped a little further into the clearing.
He was being extra cautious since Veronica had warned the entire area was known for its Raptor nests. Having irritated more than one mama in his time on the plateau, Roxton was beginning to learn an evening meal wasn't necessarily worth the risk of potentially becoming said evening meal for something else.
Suddenly, in the trees behind him, the snap of breaking twigs followed by muttered curses in a least three different languages shattered the stillness of the morning. He spun around and aimed high uncertain what had brought her after him, but knowing it couldn't be good.
"Damn you, Roxton," Marguerite berated harshly, "I *told* you that you didn't have to go alone. All I needed was a couple of minutes!"
The hunter sighed and lowered his weapon, then removed his hat to smooth his hair away from his already sweaty forehead. "Did it not occur to you that the reason I didn't invite you was that maybe I needed some time alone?"
Marguerite grimaced with distaste as she pulled a small insect from her otherwise impeccable attire. "You of all people should know it's too dangerous to be out here by yourself." Eyes daring him to challenge her views, she crossed her arms and ventured out to the clearing.
Roxton gaped at her. "Since when have *you* wanted to spend time with *me*? You've done your best to not have anything to do with me for the last month or so!"
"Give it a rest, Roxton. How can I possibly avoid you? We live together, after all!" Seeing his leering eyebrow, she quickly amended. "You know damn well what I mean! I can't believe how childishly you're behaving. Traipsing off by yourself in the middle of the jungle..."
A slow grin spread over his lips as he warned, "Careful, Marguerite, I might begin to think you were concerned about my safety."
"Well, you do happen to be the best shot of all of us and we really can't afford to lose our meal ticket, now can we?" she scoffed, neatly side-stepping him to take a look around. "So," she continued with false brightness, "what are we hunting today? Raptor? Wild boar?"
"Any of the above will do," Roxton bit out, slinging the rifle over his shoulder and joining her amid the taller grasses. "Our meat supplies are running low."
"Oh, joy, once again the lovely opportunity to become a vegetarian. Really, Roxton, you need to get out more."
The hunter shook his head at her tone and smiled to himself. Though he had stated otherwise, he was glad that she had joined him. Maybe they could not only return to their previous relationship, but take a few steps forward as well.
By Felicia Ferguson
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Paradise Found, The Beast Within, Creatures of the Dark (was it just me or was that ep less than stimulating?), Tribute, and Absolute Power
Author's Note: Did anyone else wonder that in three back-to-back episodes (after that wonderful series of kisses) Marguerite and Roxton were barely in the same scenes together, let alone trading insults? And then one episode later, everything was back to normal? Hmmm...methinks there is a fanfic here!
1/?
She was still avoiding him and it had been almost three weeks since their conversation on the balcony in which he first accused her of doing so. He didn't know what was more infuriating: her casual disregard for something that had shattered his views about her or that she refused to be alone with him for any amount of time.
"'A disaster waiting to happen.' She's right and you know it, Roxton," the hunter muttered to himself as he passed through the treeline and toward the clearing. "What the devil were you thinking? There's no future in it. How could you let some kisses go to your head like some snot-nosed school boy?"
But in truth it wasn't just the feel of her lips against his, though that the largest part of it. What happened between them had been building since they had first paddled up the Amazon. "As far as you know, she has no nobility to recommend her, regardless of how much money she has. Mother would hate her. Such audacity and arrogance -- there's not a proper bone in her body."
He knew all of the rationalizations -- had repeated them to himself from day one -- and yet there was no accounting for feelings. "Dammit! You're a bloody fool," he berated as he lined up his sight, eyes tracking the plateau for any sign of dinner.
[Ah, but maybe that's why you're drawn to her, chided his conscious. Besides, when have you ever wanted a prim and proper anything?]
Roxton sighed and lowered his rifle. It was true. Having seen more than his share of London Seasons and the meat markets they entailed, he counted himself lucky to have escaped the claws of some sweet, young debutante. Instead, he always seemed to be drawn to the scandalous girls. Though they were more apt to
not marry at all, he often thought they were the most truthful. None pretended to be searching for more than a meal ticket and there were a few who were highly successful. Most out of that limited number ended up as mistresses to wealthy nobles or in a some instances, married to much older men who were soon to die and leave them very wealthy widows.
He sometimes wondered which category Marguerite fell into. Had she married some old geezer just to have the comfort of extreme wealth? Or had she instead selected a consort with a very generous heart? Either way, he knew she had never been grouped with the sweet ones. A small smile flickered over his lips
at the thought of Marguerite in her first Season.
Those beautiful blue eyes dazzling some worthy prey even as she mentally weighed his purse. He knew his first instincts had been correct; he should have thrown her to the wolves. But one thing that had stayed him was the niggling idea that she had already been there and back too many times to count.
And yet, he hadn't lied when he'd said he trusted her. He did. He trusted Marguerite to first and foremost look out for Marguerite. She would rescue the rest of the party because she realized that she wouldn't survive out here on her own. But beyond that that brutal truth, there lay something more. Something that neither could outright deny existed between them and when she had dismissed their kiss and the wealth of feeling it had generated, it hurt, like a piece of his heart had been cut out.
Nevertheless, "Paradise fruit" or not, there had been two in that kiss. And when he had said, "Later," he had meant just that, especially since "later" also entailed putting some distance between a world that was too good to be true and hopefully, bringing back some sense of reality. Unfortunately, between that night in her tent and the next day, she had lost the fruit-induced happiness and slammed those walls back up. Even though he was glad to see her return to her normal self, if Marguerite had her way, "later" would never occur.
The day following their conversation, Challenger and Summerlee had decided to explore the area in search of various plants and the protector in him had felt honor bound to accompany them, leaving Marguerite and Veronica at the treehouse. Little did he know that a trip that should have taken only a few hours would
expand into a two day search for the plants themselves, only to lead to a run-in with a possessed shaman.
And then, the supposed clan in the caves. Yet another opportunity to talk was neatly diverted by the mysterious heiress. Instead of staking her usual claim on the pond, she had chosen to follow one of the many rivers downstream in search of a way home while Roxton had remained in the treehouse with Summerlee in order to restock their armory. After the volcano had erupted and the trio had been freed from the cave, the first words they'd spoken to each other in more than weeks were a pair of hastily traded insults. If looked at in a certain light, their behavior was almost amusing. Unfortunately, Roxton didn't see the situation in that certain light.
At least, something good had come from the German pilot's short visit a few days later. Gone were the stiff silences between them, even though they had yet to return to their normal bickering. Summerlee had mentioned, just in passing, some of the things that had occurred, but mainly, much to Roxton's displeasure,
had glossed over the particulars, ending the conversation with, "Maybe we've all been given a new chance."
Much as the older man would probably deny it, Roxton knew Summerlee had a soft spot for Marguerite. She, alone, was the one whom he advised, with whom he shared secrets. How appropriate was it that he was the one to encourage her to take a new step. "If only she would take it in my direction," Roxton grumbled as he eased a branch out of his way and stepped a little further into the clearing.
He was being extra cautious since Veronica had warned the entire area was known for its Raptor nests. Having irritated more than one mama in his time on the plateau, Roxton was beginning to learn an evening meal wasn't necessarily worth the risk of potentially becoming said evening meal for something else.
Suddenly, in the trees behind him, the snap of breaking twigs followed by muttered curses in a least three different languages shattered the stillness of the morning. He spun around and aimed high uncertain what had brought her after him, but knowing it couldn't be good.
"Damn you, Roxton," Marguerite berated harshly, "I *told* you that you didn't have to go alone. All I needed was a couple of minutes!"
The hunter sighed and lowered his weapon, then removed his hat to smooth his hair away from his already sweaty forehead. "Did it not occur to you that the reason I didn't invite you was that maybe I needed some time alone?"
Marguerite grimaced with distaste as she pulled a small insect from her otherwise impeccable attire. "You of all people should know it's too dangerous to be out here by yourself." Eyes daring him to challenge her views, she crossed her arms and ventured out to the clearing.
Roxton gaped at her. "Since when have *you* wanted to spend time with *me*? You've done your best to not have anything to do with me for the last month or so!"
"Give it a rest, Roxton. How can I possibly avoid you? We live together, after all!" Seeing his leering eyebrow, she quickly amended. "You know damn well what I mean! I can't believe how childishly you're behaving. Traipsing off by yourself in the middle of the jungle..."
A slow grin spread over his lips as he warned, "Careful, Marguerite, I might begin to think you were concerned about my safety."
"Well, you do happen to be the best shot of all of us and we really can't afford to lose our meal ticket, now can we?" she scoffed, neatly side-stepping him to take a look around. "So," she continued with false brightness, "what are we hunting today? Raptor? Wild boar?"
"Any of the above will do," Roxton bit out, slinging the rifle over his shoulder and joining her amid the taller grasses. "Our meat supplies are running low."
"Oh, joy, once again the lovely opportunity to become a vegetarian. Really, Roxton, you need to get out more."
The hunter shook his head at her tone and smiled to himself. Though he had stated otherwise, he was glad that she had joined him. Maybe they could not only return to their previous relationship, but take a few steps forward as well.