AN: Another marathon chapter, but it should settle down after this. Please let me know what you think, and thank you for reading. Happy Mother's Day
Elphaba stretched her sore muscles with a satisfied grin. She glanced at Avaric, passed out diagonally on the bed. Had he meant to stay? She'd pictured him the type to sneak out afterwards.
And when he woke? Did he regret last night? Did she?
No. She wasn't ashamed, nor was she blind to reality. She might be fond of him, and he was undeniably attractive. But she'd never gotten along with men intimately for long. She had no delusions he'd be different.
"Fae?" Zephyr's voice called from outside the door.
Elphaba rocketed to her feet, kicking Avaric awake. He blinked, bleary-eyed. "One moment." She shoved him toward the closet and yanked on her clothes.
She smoothed her tangled mass of hair as she opened the door. Perhaps he'd think it bed hair. "What?"
Zephyr lifted an eyebrow at the devastation behind her. "Pack up. We're heading out in five."
"Why so soon?"
"There was a break-in last night. Better to get the Halosphere out of here."
A cold drip of dread traced down her spine. "Are you sure they didn't-"
"No. Some room on the fourth floor. But better to be safe."
Fourth floor? She relaxed. So just them, then.
But what if they'd been seen? She shifted her weight on the balls of her feet. "Do they know who it was?" He must not, or they'd be having a very different conversation.
"These are a lot of questions for someone who needs to leave in," he glanced at his watch, "now four minutes."
A creak came from her closet. She took a subtle step toward Zephyr, edging him out of the room. "Right. Best get to it."
"Four minutes," he reminded. "If you see Rho, tell him the same."
She didn't react by force of will. He stepped out, and she nearly slammed the door shut after him. "Alright, out."
Avaric slipped on his shirt. "Don't worry about Zephyr. I'm convincing."
Didn't she know it.
At the hallway, he flashed a grin. "More convincing than that, anyway."
She threw a pillow at him, but it bounced off the empty doorframe.
By the time they reconvened, she'd regained her composure. Avaric met them late, holding a large wooden crate. From his ginger treatment, it must be the bomb. "I assume we're walking?"
"Carriage down the block." Zephyr stood. "We've got a stop on the way."
The small, open-air wagon was more cart than carriage, but it would keep the bomb steady. The horses hitched to it tossed their manes nervously. If only they knew.
She climbed behind Avaric, careful to give the box a wide berth. His eyes met hers, and they both looked away. Thank Oz for Zephyr. Without him, they'd have to discuss everything best left unsaid.
She steadied her side of the box, trying not to look at Avaric, Zephyr or the bomb. The countryside passed, turned hilly. A wagon appeared on the horizon behind them. It seemed familiar, somehow.
Yes, it had been following on the last hill, too. Around a turn, she waited. There. It turned, too. She watched it with a frown.
"Zephyr, I think-"
"Stay with the box." He drew the carriage near a tall building, far enough to look coincidental. Stacks of large windows owlishly loomed in the stone face. "Rho, with me."
She looked back, but the wagon was gone. She waited, but it didn't return. She must have imagined it. This job bred caution to the point of paranoia.
Time ticked by without incident, and she itched to go inside. Really? Babysit the bomb? That's what she best qualified for?
Zephyr passed a window on the second floor, and Avaric flashed by on the opposite side. What were they searching for anyway? Curiosity overwhelmed her, but she had a mission, too.
Even if it was boring.
Zephyr reached the fourth floor, but the room behind held a couple guards. They crept nearer. She leaned forward, as if she could help.
He turned, saw them. He caught one in the stomach, and the other landed a punch to his kidney. Zephyr grimaced, but he whirled, an elbow to the man's throat.
The guard dropped, and he finished the other with a solid kick to the ribs. Damn. Who'd have pegged Zephyr as such a fighter?
She turned to the other side to look for Avaric. His side held empty windows, until he paced forward. She smiled despite herself at his focused expression, lips pressed tight.
Then a flash of metal neared his throat. She stood despite herself, bumping the box. She held her breath.
No explosion.
Still, she skittered from the wagon. Damn it, they'd moved out of sight. She willed them to a window. As if he'd heard, he moved forward, a knife clearly pressed to his throat.
Where was Zephyr? Did he know? No, he was on the wrong floor.
Avaric vanished from the window again, and she took a step closer. She shouldn't leave the Halosphere unprotected, but if he couldn't free himself…
She edged another step.
Oz, had they already slit his throat as she stood here watching?
He reappeared in the window, and she let out a breath. Not a quick kill at least. That might buy her some time.
She led the horses into the shadows, hoping that would be enough, and tied the reigns. Then she raced inside.
She vaulted the stairs in pairs. Her breath came fast, too loud for stealth. She skirted the rooms where Zephyr's attackers lay. Where was he, anyway? She could use his help, however curmudgeonly.
Avaric voice filtered through the half-closed door, trying to persuade the man. She flattened herself behind it as they came in. If he saw her, he might slit Avaric's throat to be safe.
"You don't have to do this."
"Shut up." The shorter man shifted the knife, his hold awkward. From the looks of it, Avaric planned to break free. Not wise considering his attacker's desperation.
He dogged his feet, and the man pushed him with a sharp shove. She winced, the knife hard against his throat.
Another three steps. Two. One.
She grabbed at the knife. The man shouted and shoved her away, earning Avaric space to slip free. He spun into the guy, and his punch landed in the gut with an "oomph."
The man flung the knife out blindly. She ducked back, too slow. It grazed her arm, but the cut barely stung. It could wait for later. She smacked the man's wrist into her knee, and he dropped the knife.
Avaric's eyes narrowed at the blood. With a growl, he launched himself at the man. They fell to the ground, and in the scuffle, he managed to crash the man's head into the doorframe.
He lay still, unconscious. Avaric, panting, hauled himself to his feet. "You okay?"
"Looks more impressive than it is."
He caught her arm, checking for himself. "Thanks. Zephyr's gonna be pissed."
"Did you find what you're looking for?"
"I-" A cluster of guards strode in. They locked eyes, both parties shocked for a second.
She snatched the knife and ran, a thunder of feet screaming their pursuit. The layout zigged when she thought it would zag. Damn it. Where were those stairs?
Avaric shouted. A hand snatched her arm. She flung the knife in a wide arc. A cry, and the hand recoiled. But another came, and spun her to face them. Oz, so many. She let instinct take over. Punching, kicking and swinging her knife, she fought like a wildcat.
They never seemed to stop. Was Avaric this overrun? Without a weapon and already injured, he wouldn't survive at this rate. The next pause, she tossed him a plank of something, and he swung it hard at his opponent's head. The man crumpled.
There had to be a way out.
The narrow hall kept them from swarming. For now. But if they circled around, she and Avaric would be trapped. She retreated a pace at a time, calling for Avaric, "Come on!"
At the doorway, she feinted left and ran for the door. The few fallen slowed the others enough for a miniscule head start.
She stumbled over the unconscious guard from earlier, and almost slammed face first into her hiding place. Avaric caught her arm, steadied her. They careened through the last few turns. There, the stairs. She skidded down, jumping as many at once as she dared.
Out front, they raced for the cart. Zephyr waited there, eyes hard. She didn't bother defending herself. "Hope you got what you came for."
"Get in."
Avaric boosted her up and scrambled beside her, both careful to avoid the box in the middle. Zephyr spurred the horses into as quick a walk as he dared, around the corner and out of sight.
The silence hung low and heavy. Avaric slumped back, a hand to his ribs, and she dabbed away the blood to see how long the shallow cut ran.
He nodded at her, and she gave a dismissive half-shrug. Despite Zephyr's silence, she could feel his disapproval. She waited until they stopped at a ramshackle house. "Alright, fine. Spit it out. We're a disappointment, and I had one simple job, and all that."
"You did have one job," his tone low and threatening. "And if they'd taken the Halosphere on your little jaunt inside?"
"They had a knife to Rho's throat!"
"And he's not your concern!"
She threw up her hands. "Right. Because you'd rather we all get killed than risk saving the mission and each other."
"While you'd happily let them steal the bomb you made. Perhaps you're certain it's a dud."
Avaric sighed. "If you two are done criticizing each other, could we talk about what I overheard?"
They both spun to face him.
"Before he pulled a knife, I heard the guy talking about some weapon, the Calypso."
She shook her head. "What is it?"
"He didn't say. But…" Avaric's elbows found his knees, eyes bright. "They're showing the Wizard it tomorrow, at Larimby."
"Tomorrow." Zephyr leaned back, gazing into nothing.
"Larimby's an island."
She nodded. "On Lake Chorge. And?"
Avaric's smiled like the kid with the last cookie. "Only one way in or out…the bridge."
"And now we know when the Wizard will be there."
"With reasonable certainty."
"Good." The darkness in Zephyr's eyes took Elphaba by surprise. "Then the Halosphere will find its use."
The lake wasn't far. They'd make it easily by morning. Once they'd brought in the box, Avaric slipped out to secure the horses. Stiff, she pulled the cloth away from her cut. It stuck to the scab, and she winced.
Zephyr dug through his pack. "You shouldn't trust him." He fished out a switchblade and motioned for her to come closer.
"How trusting do you think I am?"
"Too much. Hold still." He knelt beside her, a hand on her arm. "Did he tell you why he transferred?"
"He was reassigned."
He shot her a look. "But why?"
He cut her sleeve and tugged the material apart delicately. She gritted her teeth. "Luq?"
Zephyr shook his head. "No need. When you're not thinking with your pants, you can clear two agents' workload."
She flexed, feeling the fibers work free. "You obviously want to tell me. Just say it."
"You're not his first dalliance."
The cut oozed again, but she could slide her sleeve off it. "Nor is he mine. Why do you care?"
The door outside swung closed, and Zephyr smacked the sheathed knife in her hand. "If you're going to be stupid enough to fuck him, at least don't trust him."
Zephyr stormed out as Avaric strode in. He frowned. "He still pissed?"
She didn't answer, eyes on the knife.
"Hey, don't worry. He'll get over it."
"That sound like Zephyr to you?"
He laughed. "I smell like horse sweat. Think I'll wash up before dinner. You okay?" She nodded. "Sure?"
He retreated at her glare.
She found the kitchen and rummaged for food. The nerve of Zephyr. As if she was a naïve little schoolgirl convinced Avaric loved her and wanted to settle down with her. Please. If she even slept with him again, he should count his lucky stars.
She thumped down the pan with more energy than necessary, adding spices in violent thrusts.
And what did some girl mean to his reassignment? If that girl couldn't handle him, what did that have to do with her?
The smell of dinner simmering drew Avaric to the kitchen. "Mm, and you cook, too. If you make cupcakes, I'm officially in love."
She stabbed at the sauce with the spoon.
He came behind her, oblivious to her tension. If he tried to talk about their feelings, or Oz-forbid use the word relationship, she might murder him. It had been sex. Plain and simple. And now it was finished.
But her body disagreed.
"Smells good." He set his hands on her shoulders, and the blood raced through her veins.
The sexual tension should have dissipated now they'd relieved the itch, but no such luck. Memories played with vivid detail. She didn't imagine he'd be a good lover now; she knew it for fact. It all flooded her mind: the feel of his hands on her, his lips on her neck, his hands on her breasts, his-
She spun to face him, cheeks red. "Are you bringing Zephyr his dinner?"
He eyed her expression. "He's got two hands like the rest of us. He knows where it is."
"Still." She retreated to the sauce, stirring with a little extra gusto.
She felt his phantom hands over her skin. "Why?" he breathed. "Afraid he'll walk in on something?"
She didn't dare turn now. With a sharp shrug, she snapped, "Nothing to walk in on."
"But there could be," he suggested, fingertips grazing the outside of her elbow. Her eyes flicked closed, and she stirred the sauce blindly.
"So certain of yourself?"
His lips fell to her neck, and she sucked in a breath. "After last night, what I'm certain of is that you are far more addictive than I'll be able to handle."
She tried her best to seem unaffected, despite her rapid pulse. "And if I said last night was a moment of weakness?"
He nosed along her ear, "Then I'd suggest another."
"Maybe Zephyr's right. This does seem like a bad idea."
His nod tickled the side of her face. "But it sure feels like a good one." He kissed her neck, his fingers sliding up and down her arms. "It doesn't have to mean anything unless you want."
"And do you?"
He stilled. "What answer will get you naked?"
She turned to glare at him, and he took the opening to pull her into a fierce kiss. She shoved him back. From his grin, he'd goaded her on purpose. "Sit."
"Yes, ma'am."
She took the sauce off the burner. "Here. Eat."
"I'd rather-"
"If you value your tongue, you'll stop talking."
He smirked, and she set down the plates. He waited until she bit into her dinner to say, "The question is, do you value my tongue?"
She threw her napkin at him, and he burst into laughter.
"I'm sorry, I tried to resist, I did." She refused to acknowledge him. His mirth settled down, and they ate quietly. "How's your arm?"
She frowned, having forgotten it. "Oh, fine. It's nothing."
He fetched a wet cloth, and she jerked away. "At least let me clean it. You saved my life."
"Leave me alone."
"It's oil. I know your allergy."
She snatched the cloth from his hands. "I don't need to be babied."
He snatched it back and knelt before her. "Trust me, I don't think of you in any way as a baby."
She glared, and he lifted an eyebrow. They waited. Neither caved. Finally, she snapped, "If it will shut you up..."
She held out her hand for the cloth, but he batted it away. He undid the buttons on her top clumsily with one hand.
"Pretty shallow, for a knife wound."
She chuckled. "From all your experience?"
He slipped up his own shirt, and traced a puckered scar on his side. "I've had my share."
He dabbed her wound with antiseptic, and she hissed. Oz, that burned. He blew on the angry skin.
His lips hovering there brought him close between her legs, and her body reacted with a mind of its own. Heat pooled in her, and her breath grew shallow. He braced against the opposite edge of the chair, surrounding her in him, cutting off her escape.
Each breath brought her breasts close to his lips, and she felt a tremble work through her. She had to get control of herself. Soon she'd be begging him to rip off the rest of her clothes. And she didn't beg.
"There," he breathed, low and gravelly, "all better."
Her fingers drifted toward him. "You?" A firm tug on his hair tilted his head back, and he swallowed a groan. She brushed the unmarked skin at his neck. "I'm surprised he didn't cut you, at least a little."
His hooded eyes burned into hers.
She let go. "Come on, the dishes-" But Avaric pulled her in for a long, slow kiss.
"Screw the dishes." His lips found the swell of her breasts over her thin camisole. "And screw Zephyr."
She couldn't help a breathy laugh. "Here I thought you wanted me to screw you, but if you insist…"
He slipped the fabric down and sucked a nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking over it with skill. She moaned. "Don't you dare," he growled. He moved to the other breast, and she scraped her fingers against his scalp. Her head fell back, her body alive with sensation.
"Should probably take this somewhere more private," she managed, no longer clinging to any delusions of willpower.
He trailed down her bare waist toward her hips. "And if I want you right here, right now, and to Kumbricia with anyone who has a problem with it?"
She fought another moan. "And when Zephyr kills you? Where will we be then?"
"At least I'll die happy."
She laughed and stood. His gaze burned over her, made her feel wanted, sexy…even, beautiful. It lent her a swagger as she beckoned him.
They made it to the hallway before he crushed her against the wall. His hips rocked into her as she let his hands roam her body. He fumbled at her pants, frustrated with the clasp.
"You'll rip them."
"I'll get you new ones."
She held him at arm's length. "Patience." Through the doorway, she stripped off her clothing, and he raced to do likewise.
They fell to exploring each other, frantic hands on overheated skin. He found the juncture of her thighs, and his lips trailed her to reach it. She gasped at the feeling and squirmed, but he held her still.
When he swirled his tongue around the sensitive nerves there, her back arched off the bed. She felt his grin at her moan. Then he drove her relentlessly forward and over that precipice. Her release crashed through her, and she stifled a shout in the pillow.
His fingers crawled up her, and she shivered in the wake of her climax. He moved between her legs, the length of him pressed against her.
Eagerly, she guided him into her. When they connected, they both let out a long breath. "Oz, woman," he sighed into her. "You'll be the death of me." She bucked her hips slowly against him, and he groaned.
She felt it building again, knew he felt it, too. His body stiffened, but she pushed them faster. He twisted them, and she swallowed hard as he reached deeper inside her. She clutched him to her, their bodies sliding together at a fever pitch now.
He gripped her hip. His rhythm faltered. She could feel how close he was, both of them were. She scratched her fingers up his back, and he thrust in hard. She exploded then, the waves hard and fast and flowing through every inch of her. He collapsed against her, his lips on her collarbone.
It took a moment before she could think again.
"Damn," he breathed. "I am never going to get over you."
"Already trying to get rid of me?"
He nuzzled her neck. "Not if you keep that up." Her hand smoothed over his back. "But we both know you'll break me sooner or later." He pressed a kiss where her pulse pounded in her neck.
She rolled them so she straddled him, careful not to put pressure on his bruised ribs this time. "I'd better get to work. The strong-willed always take the longest to break in."
He grinned. "You would know." She rolled her hips against him. "Oz, woman, give me a minute to breathe."
She laughed and stretched over him like a snake on a warm rock. "Shouldn't give you a moment's peace."
"And you don't. You're insatiable."
She slid up and sat on her heels. "Well, if I'm bothering you."
"Get over here, you."
He kissed her, long and slow and languid. She settled between his chest and the wall.
"Avaric?"
He pressed light kisses along her forehead. "Mm?"
"Why did you transfer?"
His muscles tensed, slight enough that had she not been wrapped around his still-naked body, she wouldn't have noticed. "Why do you ask?"
"Zephyr mentioned something."
His fingers slid lightly along her spine. "What is his fixation? I mean, yeah, we're doing exactly what he accuses now, but it's not like he knows that."
The evasion was good. She played along. "He's worried about my judgment."
"I would, too." He nosed her jawline. "You can do much better than me."
She tilted her head to study his profile. "You think? Any suggestions?"
"You little-" He rolled her under him and nipped at her neck.
"Seriously." She propped herself up. "Why the transfer?"
He flopped back. "Some girl. They wanted to split us up."
"Why?"
He sighed. "It wasn't necessary. I wasn't interested in her, really. Not that they believed me."
"What? You, not interested in sex?"
He tugged her to him. "Not everyone's as good at sex as you are."
"True." She curled her fingers over his hipbone. "But your flattery is unnecessary tonight. I'm spent."
"Oh, so now I'm allowed to get some sleep?"
She adopted a coy expression. "Sure. Door's that way."
His eyes widened, and then narrowed. "You-" He dove down to kiss her. "First woman to kick me out of bed, you know?"
"Had to happen eventually."
He scooted toward the edge. "Sweet dreams." She let him get halfway out of bed.
"I guess you can stay, so long as you prove yourself useful."
He wrapped her in his arms. "Oh? And how do you propose I do that?"
"That's on you, dear."
He kissed her soundly, and they tangled up in each other. It was early morning before either found their way to sleep.
