This story and its contents are the property of Rebecca Graves, and may
not be reproduced or published without the written consent of the author.
(please! if you want to post this fic somewhere, email me at
dayetriper@aol.com and ask my permission first)
The characters in this story are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox, yadda yadda yadda... I only borrow, I promise I'll give them back when I'm done! :-)
She spun in a roundhouse blow, the back of her left fist catching his chin solidly; as he took a half step backward and reeled, her right arm sailed down from above, the stake clutched firmly in her hand, arcing downward toward his bare chest.
The sharpened tip carved across his flesh, leaving a thin red slash of blood in its wake. A scratch across his heart, nothing more...
She froze, stunned. She couldn't do it; her own hand had betrayed her at the last. She had never missed in landing her final killing blow to so many others; yet in this most crucial battle, her own heart had held back her deadly strike.
He saw the opening in an instant and was upon her, his right arm grasping her around the waist and pulling her to him tightly as his true face emerged.
As he reached up and pulled her head to the left, exposing the pale tender flesh of her throat, he heard the stake that she'd been clutching so tightly fall to the ground, the tip still scarlet with his blood.
He looked deeply into her eyes, and saw that the victory was his at last. He felt her right hand grasp his shoulder and squeeze gently, almost reassuringly.
He leaned toward her, breathing in the scent of her, seeing the blue vein throbbing before him, calling him.
As the points of his teeth grazed her skin, he felt her other hand caress the side of his face tenderly, then cup the back of his neck, and press firmly. His fangs punctured her flesh, small droplets of blood rising to the surface to meet them. He was overwhelmed by her, drowning in her...
...he heard her whisper, "...kiss me, my love..."
The characters in this story are property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox, yadda yadda yadda... I only borrow, I promise I'll give them back when I'm done! :-)
She spun in a roundhouse blow, the back of her left fist catching his chin solidly; as he took a half step backward and reeled, her right arm sailed down from above, the stake clutched firmly in her hand, arcing downward toward his bare chest.
The sharpened tip carved across his flesh, leaving a thin red slash of blood in its wake. A scratch across his heart, nothing more...
She froze, stunned. She couldn't do it; her own hand had betrayed her at the last. She had never missed in landing her final killing blow to so many others; yet in this most crucial battle, her own heart had held back her deadly strike.
He saw the opening in an instant and was upon her, his right arm grasping her around the waist and pulling her to him tightly as his true face emerged.
As he reached up and pulled her head to the left, exposing the pale tender flesh of her throat, he heard the stake that she'd been clutching so tightly fall to the ground, the tip still scarlet with his blood.
He looked deeply into her eyes, and saw that the victory was his at last. He felt her right hand grasp his shoulder and squeeze gently, almost reassuringly.
He leaned toward her, breathing in the scent of her, seeing the blue vein throbbing before him, calling him.
As the points of his teeth grazed her skin, he felt her other hand caress the side of his face tenderly, then cup the back of his neck, and press firmly. His fangs punctured her flesh, small droplets of blood rising to the surface to meet them. He was overwhelmed by her, drowning in her...
...he heard her whisper, "...kiss me, my love..."