This little fic is the result of spending way too much time in Marlowe's library while playing Uncharted 3... hahaha. My friend and I noticed a pretty interesting item down there, and thus I had to write about it. Just a silly thing so I hope you enjoy! Also, this is young Talbot and Marlowe... so Talbot is in his 20s and Marlowe is in her 40s, so it's near the very start of their relationship as far as my headcanon goes.
Research
Talbot was pacing around the library with his nose in a book and his thoughts far off in another time and place. His dress shoes tapped against the tiled floor as he walked with a casualness to his step, occasionally pausing to lick his thumb and delicately turn the page of the yellowing book propped open against his palm.
The musty, yet distinctive, scent of aged books lingered in the air, coupled with the haze of candle smoke. The light was dim and the temperature was ideal... not too chilly or too stuffy, either. In a word, it was perfect.
The massive chamber, buried deep within the twisted innards of the London Underground, functioned as a storage room of sorts. Not everything was practical enough to be kept at Marlowe's manor, and so there always tended to be some overflow. This was where it was all stored, filled to the brim with ancient artifacts on display in glass cases, mounted animals, portraits of noble ancestors, medieval weaponry, intricate tapestries, skeletal remains, and specimens in bottles. It was rich with history, and everything Talbot enjoyed.
He enjoyed visiting their secret hideout, perhaps more than he'd ever quite let on. It wasn't often that he was able to simply recline and take in the atmosphere, but Marlowe had offered to bring him along while she filed through some things. "You don't have to do a damned thing," she had said. She even went as far as to say that he deserved a break for working so diligently and jumping back into the fray... especially since he had only just recovered from a broken arm.
In truth, it was here that he felt in his element. Gun fighting and traveling was all well and fine, but he truly thrived in pursuit of the endless knowledge awaiting at his fingertips.
Talbot heard footsteps sounding from behind him as he continued to read, but before he could turn and greet the only other occupant of the room, he felt Marlowe's body sidle up against him from behind.
"Mmmh. What are you reading?" she asked, voice low as she breathed against his neck. Her chin was resting against him as she peered over Talbot's shoulder, slinking her arms around his waist as she tugged him close.
"Just... catching up on some research," he said, ignoring the excitement swelling in his chest at the simple contact. "Medieval literature. I find it fascinating..."
Marlowe's palm came to rest upon the open pages, applying a gentle pressure as Talbot lowered his arms.
"Hrmm, I think I have something a bit more interesting you can research."
"Oh?"
His hands dropped to his side, still holding his place in the book as she continued her fervent exploration of his body. He tried to shrug it off. It took him a moment in his flustered state to realize exactly what she was doing... and that she wasn't talking about the kind of 'research' that was found in a book.
Her body was flush to his own as her hands wandered up and down his chest, smooth and sensual over the material of his suit. Occasionally, she'd let her fingers dip between the spaces of the buttonholes of his waistcoat. It was as if she were playing a game, just to see how he'd react to her teasing. Talbot could do nothing more than simply stand there, body tense as her hands wandered from his chest, across his stomach, and down a bit lower...
"What do you think, Talbot?" Marlowe asked, her nails tapping a rhythm against his belt buckle. She had a way of adding particular emphasis to his name when she spoke it, as if he'd be inclined to pay more attention that way. Talbot thought that it must be startlingly clear by now that whatever she did, and however she spoke to him... she always had his utmost attention. It didn't necessarily mean that he'd be able to express that, however.
"Unnngh... I... errr..."
Before any coherent response could be formed, Marlowe caught Talbot's elbow and spun him around to face her. The flustered warmth in his cheeks couldn't have possibly been prevented as his eyes quickly drifted over her choice of clothing for the evening.
"Marlowe!" he gasped, more of a defense mechanism than anything. "What on earth are you wearing?"
Her lips curved into a smile as she feigned innocence.
"Oh, this old thing? Do you like it?"
Talbot stared in a dumbstruck silence. Of course he liked it. To say that he enjoyed her attire would be quite the understatement. The silken, black dress hugged her figure, emphasizing her tiny waist before it curved smoothly into her voluptuous hips. Falling mid-thigh, it also showed off a distracting amount of leg... and the plunging neckline was enough to make any man hot under the collar. Needless to say, her choice of outfit certainly showed off her svelte figure in all of the right ways. Talbot would have loved to compliment her, to say how literally breathtaking she was, or to possibly express how elated he was that she'd wear such a thing in the dingy old library for him... but all he could muster was:
"Aren't you a bit... cold?"
She had to be freezing. Talbot was comfortable, but mainly because he was wearing a three-piece suit. He couldn't imagine wearing such minimal clothing in the dank atmosphere of the abandoned Underground. Marlowe simply laughed at his question, her chin raising slightly as Talbot blushed further.
"Hmm. Perhaps. Why don't you warm me up?"
As she closed the space between them, her body seemed to glide effortlessly towards him, her dress fluttering where it tapered at the waist and then flowed again at her hips.
"Er... would you like my jacket?" Talbot asked lamely. With her cheek pressed to his, he wasn't quite looking her in the eye. Up close, he noticed that her green eyes were accented by lavendar makeup, making them all the more mesmerizing, and cat-like in nature, as she stared at him.
"Oh, Talbot," she chuckled again, this time in a more condescending manner. "Is that what they teach you in those books of yours? I promise, your sense of chivalry won't go unappreciated... but sometimes, you just have to jump straight into battle."
In an instant, her lips were against his own, soft and warm. Marlowe's palms had settled on tugging at the lapels of his jacket as she coerced him into the corner of the room. Paralyzed and at her will, Talbot dropped his book. He took a few paces backwards until the table behind him pressed into the back of his thighs, where various antique maps were scattered about haphazardly. He threw his palms back, balancing against the edge of the table as she pressed her hips up against his. He tried to prevent himself from ruining the old parchment as they wrinkled beneath him like tissue paper.
"Aren't these valuable?" he winced, though Marlowe seemed to find him much more interesting as she leaned in and pressed her lips to his neck, kissing and licking at the sensitive flesh. Goose bumps were sent racing down his spine, causing a sudden chill to rush through him as he shivered involuntarily.
"It's nothing that can't be replaced."
With a casual swipe of her hand, she brushed the pile of maps aside, letting them fall unceremoniously to the floor. Marlowe pushed Talbot downwards by his shoulders as he sat at the edge of the table. He shook his head, his brain not quite able to keep up with the events that were occurring. He truly hadn't expected a simple evening of reading to take such a turn... and in the library, away from home, no less.
Mouth agape and brow knitted, Talbot stared up at Marlowe for a brief moment before she took hold of his red tie and pulled his face mere centimeters from her own. Their noses touched, her breath hot against his face, and Talbot wondered if he looked as nervous as he felt. His three piece suit suddenly felt a bit too warm for his liking.
"Marlowe, I don't think this is a very good- ooof!"
Suddenly, Talbot was sprawled on his back upon the table, staring upwards at the ceiling as she pushed him down with a little more force than was necessary. Not a moment later and Marlowe was positioned on top of him, straddling his hips with a demure sort of pose. Talbot licked his lips out of sheer nervousness, attempting not to stare at the ivory flesh of her bare legs as her dress was hiked up slightly.
"You were saying?" she asked, with a single eyebrow raised.
"Nothing... ah, nothing at all."
"Good."
Marlowe gave his tie a good tug as it loosened, pulling him towards her as she captured his lips in an eager kiss. Eyes closed as he exhaled a sigh, Talbot couldn't help but feel like he was melting against the warmth of her body. All at once, his muscles relaxed and all prior tension was forgotten in her embrace.
They kissed hard, with Marlowe's fingers running through his hair, alternately stroking it and pulling it lightly. The library was entirely silent, with no noises audible other than their erratic, urgent breathing and the occasional crinkle of the maps that were still beneath them. He allowed his hands to rest, tentatively, upon her hips as she ravaged his mouth. To his relief, she didn't seem to mind.
He opened his eyes briefly, just to catch a brief glimpse of Marlowe as she kissed him, and that's when he saw it.
Sitting on the bookshelf adjacent to them, a Tasmanian tiger was looking Talbot directly in the eye. The mounted creature, though long extinct, was in pristine condition as it sat perched upon the top shelf... but its condition wasn't what concerned Talbot. In fact, the dog-like marsupial seemed to be watching over their tryst quite angrily. Normally such things didn't bother him. In fact, he seemed to do better around mounted animals than live ones... but the way it's mouth was wide open, teeth-bared as if it were releasing a bestial cry and the way it stared with its cold, dead eyes was quite unnerving.
It was a mood killer if ever there was one.
Trying desperately to play it cool, Talbot shifted uncomfortably beneath Marlowe. He attempted to angle his face so that it didn't look as if it was peering over her shoulder every time he opened his eyes, but it was to no avail. Though he willed himself to simply focus, he couldn't seem to tear his gaze away from the beast. God, it was hideous. The fact that he was now aware of its presence somehow made it worse. Much to his dismay, Talbot was hopelessly distracted, and immensely uncomfortable, even as Marlowe's deft fingers began unfastening his belt buckle. When he didn't utter a sound at the rather suggestive gesture, Marlowe seemed perturbed.
"Talbot," she said sternly, as she broke their kiss abrubtly. Her expression was one of both concern and annoyance as she regarded him. "Is something wrong?"
"Wha-? No! No, of course not..."
"Really? You seem a bit... distracted. I mean, I understand if you're not feeling up to it..."
"I'm fine," he assured her. "Perfectly fine." Talbot searched her eyes, trying to hold her gaze long enough to express how much he wanted them to continue... and how he didn't want to let some ridiculous stuffed animal ruin his day. He wasn't about to admit that the thing was downright terrifying, so he decided upon the tactic of simply ignoring it all together. With enough willpower, he had faith that he could just forget about it and carry on...
Hesitantly, he allowed his fingertips to tuck an errant strand of Marlowe's blonde hair behind her ear, issuing a genuine, albeit brief, smile from her. As Talbot grinned to the best of his abilities, he faltered and glanced for a split second at the tiger, meeting its intense and disturbing gaze once again.
Marlowe was no fool. Immediately, she followed his line of sight and threw a curious glance over her shoulder. In an instant, Talbot knew that she knew. She seemed to be suppressing the urge to laugh at him for several moments before she spoke again.
"You know, along with chivalry, I appreciate honesty more than anything," she said mildly. Already, her voice had taken on a certain coyness that Talbot had a very bad feeling about. Marlowe leaned in, as if she were about to kiss him again, but instead she tightened up his tie and patted his chest. "Next time, we'll have to work on your ability to concentrate on the task at hand, regardless of environmental... distractions."
Just like that, she hopped off of him and the table, smoothing out her dress before traipsing off, like a finicky cat that had suddenly lost interest in its prey. Talbot sat upright at the edge of the table, for a moment thinking that she was playing hard to get before he realized that she wasn't coming back.
"I- wait a minute...Marlowe! Wait, I-"
"Get back to your books, Talbot," she said, rather unenthusiastically and without even turning to look at him. "You have some research to do."
Marlowe sauntered through the nearest door that lead to the upper level of the library, high-heels clicking as she left him in complete and utter silence once again. Talbot groaned in frustration, running his fingers through his disheveled hair as he collapsed back against the table. He yelped in surprise when his eyes fell upon the Tasmanian tiger again, which suddenly seemed as if were laughing at him in a maniacal sort of way. Talbot could only scowl, feeling dejected as he recovered his book and resumed his reading...
Apparently, he still had a lot to learn.
