I present to you, gratuitous fan service! That's right. In reality, I just wanted them to at least touch each other. Not that way, mind you. It's odd. I have a strong attachment to these characters, and as much as I want them to get their Mack on, I just can't write… yes I can! I owe you guys a one-shot, don't I?

Anyways, here is some 'important' fan service.

Also, that one-shot will be under a separate story. So, make sure you check the profile page!

That morning, Lucy had a very hard time picking out something to wear. She had laid out all of her clothes on the bed, trying to pick something that screamed 'don't kill me'. Her uniform was out of the running; she did not want her bare legs attracting attention. She refused to play the sex card. How would she do it, anyway? She was fourteen and painfully shy. Besides, it was Susan's job to get what she wanted through skin.

She decided on a pair of dark jeans and a black t-shirt, worn under her school blazer – the t-shirt was tighter than she liked to admit (yet another thing Susan would wear). This is what people going to court must have felt like, only she did not have the privilege of dressing to impress. The most she could hope for was not looking like a whore. There was no chance that she would look 'normal' to these people, so that was out of the picture.

More than anything, she wanted something to cover her neck. Shortly after their little pow-wow, Lucy dragged Caspian back into her bed. And, unfortunately, it did go to a very weird place.

"This isn't going to work!" she hissed at him as she pinned him to the mattress. He looked stunned. In her anger and dread, she had forcibly towed him to her bed and held him hostage against her pillows.

"Why won't it?" He sounded bewildered. How cute. How totally fucking cute.

"Because, besides our words, we have no proof that this happened. Which it didn't." He just made her so mad, the insufferable idiot. "Since I am going to die tomorrow, I might as well kill you now." Straddling his hips, she shook him like a dog attacking a rag doll. "You are so dead!"

"Please stop that," he whispered as he sat up. Lucy did not take into account how much stronger he was than her. All it took to still her was his hands wrapped firmly around her upper arms, almost painfully so. "Now, what are you talking about?"

She started shaking. "No proof. No evidence. Nothing they can touch, nothing they can see. Nothing they can point to and say that you even touched me. I'll get pinned with assault, and you'll be comforted for getting hit by a girl! The most that'll happen to you is that you'll be teased for not dodging in time! I AM GOING TO DIE!" How she managed to whisper was beyond her.

"You are not going to die. I'll suffer some ridicule, but you are not going to die." He was shaking her this time, gently knocking some sense into her. "We'll just have to tweak our plan again."

"There goes that 'we' again. Is the mouse back? Please, tell the mouse to go away." Caspian did not hear her. He was eyeing her bare neck with frightening intent.

"We could always fake the necessary evidence."

"I am not having sex with you! That's illegal and just gross!" He looked mildly offended and baffled all at once.

"I didn't mean that, though I will remember your sentiments in the future. But we just need something. Nothing extreme." When he did not look up from her throat, she understood exactly what he was thinking. It made her skin crawl, but it was the only way he could 'violate' her without actually violating her.

"If this hurts, you're dead." She ignored the way her voice trembled, ignored that fiercely protective look in his eyes. This was all so absurd.

"I don't think it will hurt," he whispered heavily as he wrapped his arms around her waist, gathering her against his chest. "If it does, you may do the same to me." Lucy gasped and tangled one of her hands in his hair, yanking viciously. "I meant hurt me! Though I think we're even now. Geez."

Caspian bent his head forward slightly, until his nose brushed against her cheek. Taking his time so he did not frighten her, he pressed his lips cautiously to the skin behind her ear, kissing a trail down to the base of her throat. Though he was probably being too thorough, Lucy was beginning to see the appeal in having a boyfriend. But when she remembered that he was twenty, ice poured through her veins. This was against the law in several countries.

And then he was gently pulling at her pulse point, his mouth warm and wet over her hypersensitive skin. Her parents probably rolled around in their graves as her eyes closed on a gasp. Caspian felt her go still in his lap, like she had forgotten how to move. With her in his arms, he realized that he was being quite selfish. He was taking more for the sake of taking than helping her.

Before things went too far, he drew back, taking a look at his handiwork. Even in the low light, he could see the rosy patch of skin, quickly bruising from where his mouth had been. That was evidence enough, right?

For several long moments, they could not even look at each other. Then she slowly backed away from his lap, until her shoulders bumped into one of the canopy's posts.

"If you tell anyone about this, I will poison your dinner." He found her death threats to be adorable, though he was certain she might make good on them. Her innocent naiveté was evident as she timidly pressed her hand to the still moist spot against her throat. She looked much older then, her dark doe eyes all at once ancient and youthful.

"I don't think I'll have to worry about telling them anything. That spot will be purple by morning. I'll attest that it's my doing."

"Damn straight you will."

She wish she had brought a turtleneck.

Caspian cursed himself for his foolish behavior. He had practically taken advantage of her. His expectations as a gentleman were pushed aside when she held him down into the pillows, flushed and furious. Had she been naked and moaning, maybe then the situation would have called for his thorough attention to detail.

At that moment, he hated and loved being a grown man. He loved that he felt that way about Lucy, and hated himself for daring to feel that way at all. The logic was confused, but it made perfect sense to him.

He was careful to avoid Glozelle as he prepared for the coming ride to Beruna. Lucy would be presented to Miraz in the evening – a messenger hawk had already alerted her to him. From that point on, it was just a matter of waiting, and hoping he could pass his bravery to Lucy.

When she finally arrived, dressed in an odd pair of pants, she would not look at him. If truth be told, she would only let him see the back of her head. Without words, she was telling him that she blamed him. And if truth be told again, he would have to agree.

Getting on the road was unceremonious and quick. She rode with at the helm with Glozelle, while the other members of the party trailed behind. The guards' eyes flitted around the forest on either side of the road, while Caspian kept his eye on Lucy's neck, on a bruise usually associated with physical intimacy.

Glozelle was no fool. He knew Lucy and Caspian were up to something. But he did not know what. As much as he did not want to, this was something he would have to wait out.

Lucy was just ill at ease. Being away from the comforts of her world was beginning to wear on her. She had never considered herself to be high maintenance, which was why she had yet to complain to Glozelle or Caspian. With so many things weighing on her, cramped thighs or dry hands were nothing to balk. What really bothered her was the mark on her throat. It did not hurt, per se, but she was always aware of it. Whenever she moved her arm, she felt a slight twinge.

My first hickey, she thought.

My first hickey, and it wasn't that fun.

Susan is such a liar.

They arrived at Beruna later than they thought they would. It was another game of hide-and-go-seek – Naoise, Caspian and Lucy rode outside of Beruna to the officer's barracks while Glozelle and the other guards went in through the town.

Again, Lucy was tucked away in a back room while the others went and had some fun. Only Caspian was among them this time – he was invited to meet some newly commissioned captains.

Glozelle felt some responsibility for the girl. It was his duty to keep the men away from her. Though it made him sick, Miraz liked his spoils to be unspoiled, if he so chose it. She could endure the worst sort of punishment, and she probably would.

As the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, he brought in some ale for her. He knew he would want to something to numb him if he were about to be executed.

Lucy was sitting on a bench, with her legs drawn up to her chest. Glozelle did not know how to handle females. She was not a filly he could soothe with blinders, nor a whore he could appease with some silver. Supremely uncomfortable, he paced in front of her like a, well, a general adressing his troops.

"You must be brave and face your duties calmly. This is how it is done. Deal with it."

It started small – just a few misplaced sniffles and panting. But the next thing he knew she was a bawling mess, bent over as she sobbed into her hands.

He had made a woman cry.

Shit.

"No, no, no. Th-that's not what I meant. I didn't mean to, uh…" Damn it, how did men handle upset women? He was almost thankful that he could not take a wife, seeing Lucy weep. Having no idea what he was doing, he took to one knee in front of her. His hands wavered inches away from her shoulders. This was why women could not join the military. They cried at the drop of a hat.

Well, he was about to lose her head, so maybe these tears had their place.

"Please stop crying. Please, please stop crying. I have no idea what to do, so, please, just stop." She looked up at him, red-eyed, teary and just a little bit splotchy. Oh well. Women could not be beautiful all of the time.

"You all claim to be noble and heroic," she hiccupped as she wiped away snot (definitely not noble). "But you think problems can be solved with one-word answers and half-formed ideas. Nothing exists besides the end results."

Oh great, she was upset and insane. When she did not elaborate, he let his eyes leave hers. The last thing he wanted was to be the victim of her irrationality. But as his eyes settled on her throat, he was left speechless by the bruise on her throat.

This time, Caspian had gone too far.

Caspian was on his way to comfort Lucy when all of a sudden, Glozelle had him pinned to the wall with a sword under his chin.

"I don't know what you've done, or to what extent you've done it. I will not be made a fool of. My loyalties will not be tested tonight. Whatever plans you and Lucy have, this is the only time I will hold my tongue. You may be a prince, but I am your keeper. And Miraz is king."

Glozelle left a bewildered Caspian without another word, presumably off to handle the horses. Caspian did not know whether to feel comforted or frightened. Glozelle would go along with their concoctions, but he was still a soldier of Miraz.

Because of one girl, Caspian might lose his allies.

Was she worth it?

Intrigue! Hickies! Some other stuff!

There was some more swearing in this one than usual, but I needed some adult language.

Anyways, I got to thinking about epic romances. You know, the couples that will resonate for eternity. Romeo and Juliette, Marc Antony and Cleopatra, peanut butter and jelly, Marion Ravenwood and Indiana Jones…

And then a light bulb went off.

I am so writing an Indiana Jones inspired ficlet for Lucy and Caspian.

What, it works! It'll be hot and dark, and short. I'll post it alongside the other one-shot.

You know you want it.

You know you do.