Disclaimer: I do not own the His Dark Materials Series.

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm SO sorry for the hiatus. I've been super busy lately, but I had a little bit of time to write an update and show you all just what Marisa Coulter is capable of ;) Bit of a twist for you! Thank you so much for reading, and please let me know what you think!


o8.

Quite truthfully, things were better than they had been in a long time – a very long time. Vanessa was talking to him again, she was staying with him almost every night, they had talked seriously about moving in together, his research advanced and he was named the Breakthrough Researcher of the Year at Oxford – life was grand for Asriel Belacqua, except for the fact that he hadn't seen Marisa Coulter since the night he had sex with her in the middle of an abandoned alley.

Asriel would never let Vanessa know, but this separation hurt him deeply. As he had admitted to himself over and over again (and to the great dismay of Stlemaria, he knew), Asriel loved Marisa as he had never loved any woman. That secluded night had revived every ounce of passion he had ever felt for his charming mistress. Even though it had been four months since he had seen her, he looked for her shadow wistfully in the library and scanned the crowd hopefully at every conference; he constantly looked over his shoulder for any single trace of her, though there was always nothing. Had it really been the last time? Was it truly and sincerely over?

After the disastrous party at the Emerald Hotel, Asriel had told Vanessa everything about the affair – everything (except for the alley-love-making). Vanessa couldn't understand the attraction, though, and she couldn't understand why Asriel had loved her so much when they weren't even able to be a true couple.

"Why did you love her when she was married?" Vanessa asked one night before they fell asleep. It was quite the profound question, and to be completely honest, Asriel didn't know why. Most men chased after other men's wives due to the challenge of it, but it wasn't like that with Marisa. In a lot of ways, she had pursued him, and the fact that she was married was relative. But alas, none of that made any sense, and he didn't know how to explain it.

"I've already told you, darling," Asriel answered sleepily, willing his mind to fall asleep and away from the topic. It was beginning to take a toll on his already-drained mind. "At the time, Marisa was just too intoxicating to turn down. And we felt something for each other." He felt her stir at that last bit, so he moved to put his arms around her. "That was almost two years ago, though, and I was a weaker man back then." And still am, he added, feeling the warm burn of shame.

"But you're stronger now?" No. He really wasn't, but Asriel had to be. It had been nearly two years since Marisa Coulter waltzed into his life, and it was time for him to move on. Clearly Marisa had, so Asriel nodded his head and pulled Vanessa in tighter. By the way she absent-mindedly stroked his arm and stared intently at the ceiling, though, Asriel had a feeling that she didn't really believe him, and he wished that he knew why she doubted him so much.

Because perhaps she knows the truth. As Asriel leaned over to kiss the top of Vanessa's head, Stelmaria cut through his thoughts like ice. Perhaps it's because, regardless of what you say, you're still completely and irrevocably in love with Marisa Coulter, and Vanessa and the whole world know it.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Another day, another party. It all started to become redundant after a while. Vanessa loved all the parties, of course. She was still so young, so fresh – so naïve. He loved her for that, and even though he couldn't stand sipping the flat champagne and eating the stale crackers, he was happy to see her happy. She was all that really mattered, and since she was trying to establishing herself as a scholar, going to events like this was an absolute must.

All the regular crowds were there. They saw Professor Lorface and Professor McMallan, Professor Dolling and Professor Thomas; they saw a multitude of old, graying men with even older, graying research interests that would never amount to anything. But Asriel smiled, his arm draped comfortably around Vanessa's waist and his other clutching his glass of champagne. He would be the good boyfriend. He would be the good scholar.

As they made their way through the crowd and over to the food table, Vanessa suddenly stopped and turned around to face him, putting a hand on the side of his face.

"Are you alright?" he asked, searching her eyes. Stelmaria pricked her ears, and Malaca merely stared at her, his eyes gentle. "Don't tell me you want to go home?"

"Nice try," she laughed, and she leaned over and kissed him. It wasn't just a light, social kiss – it was deep and purposeful. Asriel felt that familiar sense of breathlessness take over him as she moved closer and let her free hand roam the nest of his hair. Bridging any remaining distance between them, Asriel wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up, not caring that they were in a crowded room of people and that anyone could be looking their way. Smiling between her kisses, Asriel realized just how fortunate he was to truly and sincerely be in love with her.

Love. Stelmaria almost gagged at the thought. What did Asriel know about love? The first love of his life had stolen his heart and threw it away, not even caring about it. He'd then spent almost two years of his life trying to give it back to her, but after getting spit on and humiliated, he had finally given up and realized that she didn't deserve his love and his time.

Only he hadn't. When she came knocking, he was there; when she spread her legs, he was there. He felt so guilty just then, kissing Vanessa yet thinking about Marisa, but Asriel didn't know what to do. He hadn't been happy with Marisa, so he moved on. But now that he moved on, he couldn't stop thinking about her. As Vanessa moved closer and buried her face in the crook of Asriel's neck, he realized that nothing could keep Marisa's memory out of his life. Her ghost flittered through the walls of everything he did and everything he was, and nothing seemed to be able to change that.

"I love you, Asriel," Vanessa murmured, her warm breath tickling his neck. Moving his hand to pat her head, Asriel said nothing; Asriel felt nothing. It was all very confusing, and at that moment, he could barely make sense of anything.

Out of the corner of his eye, Asriel saw a bright flash of color. Looking up, he saw a flicker of gold, and he saw her. Most prominently, however, he saw it – the bulge of her stomach on her devastatingly slender frame.