AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry it's taken so long for this to be posted (more on that after story-time). As per usual warnings, this chapter contains semi-graphic sexuality. Honestly, this chapter is mostly fluff-driven sex, but I promise it's all important to where the story is going. Speaking of which – on to the story.
SMOKE ON THE WATER
Scott glanced at the sky. He hadn't worn a watch, as transforming with a watch on usually destroyed it, and he hadn't brought his phone, because he'd promised himself (and Allison) that nothing would interrupt them. The downfall was that he didn't have any idea what time it was, but judging by the place of the sun in the sky, it was around noon. She'd be there soon.
His eyes tracked back down to the blanket he'd spread over the grass in the small clearing. He'd found the clearing, and the dirt path that lead to it some weeks back while running the woods at night; at the time he hadn't thought of this particular use for it, but when Allison had jokingly suggested a picnic, he'd thought of it immediately and said yes. Which was why there was a basket with sandwiches, salad, and beverages sitting on the blanket.
Scott was about to glance at the sky again when he heard a dull roar. He focused in on the sound – still a mile or two away – and ascertained that it'd turned off the highway and was on its way up the dirt path. It didn't sound like Allison's car; it was louder and more powerful. Scott arched an eyebrow at this development, felt his claws ready to pop if it became necessary.
It didn't. While it was difficult to pick out, he could definitely hear Allison's distinct heartbeat apart from the motor. There was no one with her and while her heart was beating faster than normal, it didn't seem as out of control as it could get when she was upset, so Scott relaxed. Mostly. Gotta work on this 'relaxation' thing, he thought. Didn't used to be a problem. Then get, avoiding homicide didn't used to be a problem, either.
A little under a minute later, he saw the motorcycle pull around the corner of the dirt path. It skidded to a halt, and the figure astride it – decked out in form-fitting black and bright pink leather, with a black, shaded helmet – climbed off. Allison lifted her helmet off her head, shaking her hair out. Scott's eyes swept up and down. Damn, he thought. Leather. Such a good idea.
Allison grinned at this, twirled around in a circle, then stepped to the side and pointed to the bike. "You like?" she asked.
"Yeah," Scott said. "And I like the motorcycle too."
She stuck out her tongue. "You are naughty," she said.
Scott smiled back. "Pretty much, yeah," he said. "Where'd you get a motorcycle?"
"Dad," she said. Scott's grin faded a bit. Hope she doesn't notice. "Because my training's going so well. He decided I should have something that'd allow me to get around faster. You know, if necessary."
Scott nodded. "Guess that makes sense," he said. Try to equitable about the whole hunter thing, he thought.
Allison walked over to the blanket, placing her helmet down on one corner. "I just wanted to show off for you," she said.
"You don't need a motorcycle to show off," Scott said, inclining his head to watch her ass as she straightened back up from bending over.
"Watch yourself," Allison said, her grin spreading. She unzipped the leather jacket, revealing a grey tank-top underneath. And, unless I'm much mistaken, nothing underneath that, Scott thought. Is there anything more unfair than being an adolescent with super senses? "I am still a hunter, you know. I could kick your ass."
Scott chuckled, but without much humor. "Doesn't seem like anyone's had much luck with that in the last couple of months," he said. "But you could always try. As a matter of fact," he said, a devilish look brightening his smile, "I suddenly feel like you'll have to wrestle me to the ground, right now."
"Scott!" Allison said. "You're impossible. I thought we were here for a picnic."
"We are," Scott said, calming down a little and taking as seat on the blanket. "Sorry. It's just, I'm so glad that we finally get to have a little time to ourselves, out where no one can interrupt us. We've earned this."
"I'll say," Allison agreed.
She took a seat next to Scott, who reached for the basket of food. As he did, he noticed a pensive look on Allison's face. "What are you thinking?" Scott asked.
"Huh?" Allison said. "Oh, nothing. Just – you know, what's our future going to be like. We're never really going to be able to get away from all this, are we? For moments where it's just the two of us."
Scott stopped reaching for the food and settled back. "We're here now, right?" he asked.
"Yeah," Allison said, reaching for his hand. "And this is really sweet. But are we ever going to really get away? Have our own place, make our own rules, not have to deal with life and death werewolf/hunter bullshit?"
Scott found himself nodding. "Probably not," he said. "I see what you mean. Neither of us has a particularly low-maintenance family. Still, I feel pretty confident that we'll be able to have some freedom."
"How? How are you so confident?"
"Because I know that we're bigger and badder than them," Scott said, winking. "Come on, let's eat." He picked up the basket and pulled a pair of sandwiches, wrapped in plastic wrap, out. "This is my mother's recipe."
Allison smiled warmly at this statement, accepted a sandwich, and took a bite. She chewed for a second, her face getting more and more confused, and after a moment of munching she swallowed. "Uh, Scott?" she asked. "This is deli ham and Hellman's mayonnaise."
"Yeah," Scott said, taking a big bite out of his own sandwich. "The 'mom's recipe' thing is an old joke. She never could cook." Scott lowered the sandwich slowly, placing it on one of his legs. "I guess maybe that's disrespectful now."
Allison reached over and took his hand again. "If it wasn't disrespectful when she was alive, I don't think she'd think so now."
"Thanks," Scott said. He picked up the sandwich again and bit into it.
A little bit of munching later, Scott looked over at Allison, who'd reclined onto her elbows on the blanket. "Full?" he asked.
"Completely full," she clarified.
Scott's devilish grin reappeared. "Well, not completely full, I'm sure," he said. "I can think of at least one thing you've got room for."
Allison laughed, an incredulous look on her face. "You're incorrigible," she said. "Give me some time to digest. Not all of us have hyperactive metabolisms."
Scott backed off. "Wouldn't want to send you home sick to Daddy," he said. "He, uh, still doesn't know about us, right?"
"Right," Allison confirmed. She shook her head to get all of her hair behind herself. "I figure easing him into the idea of his daughter dating a werewolf might be better than just hitting him over the head with it."
"Yeah, that's good thinking," Scott said. "You know I have a meeting with him later, right?"
Allison sat up. "No," she said. "What about?"
"Planning," he said. "For the next full moon."
"Scott, that's like, weeks away."
"I know," Scott said, picking up a bottle of water and polishing it off. "But he figured, and I agreed, that if we sit down and work on the details early, maybe we can avoid a fiasco like last time."
Allison shivered. "Hopefully nothing like that night happens again," she said.
Scott sidled up next to her. "Well, that night wasn't all bad..." he said, smiling at her and snaking his hand onto her stomach, rolling up the fabric of her shirt so that he was running his fingers over her skin.
"Incorrigible again," she said, shaking her head.
Scott blanched, retracted his hand. "You know, if you don't want to do anything like that, it's okay," he said. "You can just tell me. I'm kind of sensing a pattern in the things you're saying."
Allison rolled her eyes, grabbed his hand and replaced it on her stomach. "The pattern is that your girlfriend happens to still be very human," she said, her lips curling, coyly. "So if you try to jump her before she's had lunch, she's not going to have energy. And if you try to jump her directly after lunch, she needs time to digest. Neither of those things means she doesn't want you to jump her. You're going to need to be gentle with me."
Scott grinned wickedly again. "Seemed you liked the rough stuff the other night," he said.
She grinned just as wickedly back. "I did," she said. "And I do. But I also like it gentle and romantic, and that's what I'm in the mood for right now. Gentle. Slow. I want you to make love to me."
"There's that phrase again," Scott said. Allison's smile widened and she rolled her eyes again. Before she could reach over and kiss him, though, Scott's face clouded over. "Hang on a second," he said, pushing her lightly back. "It was pretty rough the other night."
"I remember," Allison said. "I was kinda there, you know?"
"Well, it was rough," Scott said. "And it was your first time and that's always supposed to hurt girls even if it's not rough, but that was, you know, rough rough, like the kind of rough that you only get from fucking a thing like me. I must have hurt you like crazy. Oh my God, I didn't even think for a second about it, I'm so sorry, I can't believe I - "
"Scott!" Allison said, reaching over and taking hold of his head with both hands. "You're rambling. Anyway, I'm here now, right? I'm fine."
"But how?" he asked.
Allison took a deep breath. "The other night wasn't my first time," she said.
"Oh," Scott replied, shrinking back in on himself immediately. "Uh. Yeah. Well, that'd explain it. Uh, you know, it's not like it was my first time either, so it's not like it's a big deal or anything, you know, right? 'Cause, yeah. Totally." Allison gave him a look of kind disbelief. "You're not buying any of that, are you?"
"Not so much."
"Okay, it was my first time," Scott said. "But it honestly doesn't matter that it wasn't yours. Honest."
The look on Allison's face turned pained. "I don't have a built in lie detector like you do, Scott," she said.
"I guess that's where the trust thing comes in," Scott said. When Allison still looked pained, he continued. "Okay, look. We were both different people before we met each other. I was – well, I was kind of a dweeb."
"You still are 'kind of a dweeb'."
"Hear me out," Scott said. "I didn't really care about things before I met you. I mean, I cared, but I didn't take things personally. Or seriously. I don't know, things just didn't have importance. Like lacrosse. I loved playing lacrosse, and if I didn't get to play maybe I'd whine or complain, but not because lacrosse was super important, just because I thought I was losing something that I'd had and I knew that was bad. I think you can want to avoid losing things even when you don't really have anything. Then I met you and it was like I had something for the first time – something to really care about, something to matter. And that feeling's branched out a bit since then, but it definitely started with you. I was a child before I met you, and now - "
"I made you a man?" Allison asked, trying to hide a wan smile.
"I guess," Scott said, grinning a dopey grin. "All cliches aside. Point is, it doesn't matter that you slept with someone before me. That's just, you know, what people do. It doesn't change who you are, or even who you were. Me, I'm the one who wasn't, well, worthy of you back then, so if anyone should be ashamed, it's me."
Allison reached a hand out to brush against Scott's face. "I think I like not having a built-in lie detector," she said. "I get to hear these little speeches from you. Now, first thing, you have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of – nothing at all. Second, get over here and make love to me, right now."
Which is what he did. Absent constraints of time or the pressures of the people who were usually around them, they took their time, removing each others' clothes slowly. As he'd guessed, Allison wasn't wearing anything under her tank top, which was the first article to go; it was closely followed by his own shirt, and then his pants, leaving him naked. Smiling warmly, Allison stood, unbuckled her belt, and dragged her leather riding pants down over her skin, revealing her pelvic region and her legs a little at a time. She kicked them off her feet and, for a second, stood completely naked as Scott, laying on his side on the blanket, examined her body. She really is completely perfect, he thought.
"I take it you like what you see?" Allison asked, teasing lightly.
Scott sat up, took her hand, and pulled her down so that she was straddling him. He kept her hand in his, lacing his fingers around hers; his other arm went around her back, to give her added stability and to pull her closer. She gasped slightly, coming eye level with him. "Allison Argent, I love you," he said. "I loved you the second I saw you. Even with everything that's been happening I've never stopped loving you. And I never will stop."
She leaned forward, placed a light kiss on his lips. "I've never stopped loving you, either," she said. He felt her free hand journey down in between them to grasp the hard length of his erection, to guide him to where they both wanted it to go, and then a second later he pulled her hips in closer and he was inside of her. They both let out little gasps. Scott watched as Allison adjusted to the sensation between her legs, her breathing having gone unsteady for a second; once she'd steadied herself, she began rocking her hips, slowly at first, and then building in momentum. The hand he had on her lower back traveled higher and he pulled her head down closer for another kiss, a long one.
As they kissed and the sensations traveling between their bodies grew, all Scott could think was that he wanted nothing other than to keep doing this, exactly this, until the end of all time.
***[]***
Hours later, Scott arrived at the Argent house. Having agreed with Allison that it'd be best for them to arrive at different times, she'd already headed home about an hour previous. Took a little while to cool off and catch our breath, he thought, smiling. Damn, it is good to be alive. And yes, I just thought that it's good to be alive. The world is getting surreal.
Making it even more surreal, as Scott approached the door, he realized that this time he'd have to knock and be admitted. He shook his head. Weird shit. He stepped up to the door and knocked and almost instantly the door swung open and he was looking into Allison's bright eyes. "Dad said you'd be coming over," she said, loudly, her eyes twinkling. A regular human wouldn't have seen the beads of sweat still clinging to her forehead from earlier – most hers, some his too – but Scott could see them clearly. "Come in," she said. "Dad's waiting in the kitchen."
As Scott passed, he felt Allison briefly twine her fingers around his, and he grinned down at her, then stepped past and proceeded into the kitchen. He wasn't terribly surprised to find Chris with a grim look on his face. I'd probably have been more freaked if he'd looked happy, Scott thought. He only plays happy when he's planning something. "Scott," he said, nodding.
"Mr. Argent," Scott replied, nodding respectfully as well.
Chris arched an eyebrow. "It's 'Mr. Argent,' now?" he asked, nodding at the chair across the table from him.
Scott spread his hands out in front of him as he sat down. "I'm trying to be polite," he said. "Was there something else I was supposed to call you?"
Chris shook his head. "It'll do," he said. He sighed. "Settling back into your old house okay?"
"Not yet," Scott said. "We filed the emancipation paperwork, but it takes a little while to go through. Still, I'll probably be back living there within a week or two."
Chris leaned forward. "I don't mean to sound callous, but it is rather fortuitous, you winding up living in an entire house by yourself," he said. "You can redo part of it – say, the basement – to contain you and Lydia during the full moon. No one will ever be the wiser and we can really make sure you're locked down appropriately."
Scott nodded slowly. No cold-blood jokes. Think of Allison. "I hadn't thought of that," he said. "All things considered I'd prefer we keep using other places. I think that if we turned my house into a lockup I might feel vulnerable. Houses catch fire pretty easily."
Chris shifted in his chair slightly. "I can promise you that Kate won't be a problem."
"You can," Scott said, allowing a skeptical note into his voice. Might as well let him know I still don't trust her.
"Yes," Chris replied. "I've got her on a short leash. I'll make sure she doesn't do anything to harm either of you."
Trust, Scott. "Okay," Scott said, exhaling slowly. "If you don't mind me saying, I still wouldn't want to use my own house to lock myself and Lydia up for the full moon."
Chris nodded again. "I understand," he said. "And I'm sure we can come up with an alternate arrangement. But, Scott, the full moon is the least of our worries."
Scott leaned forward. "Come again?"
Chris sighed again, stood. Everything from his posture to his pheromones are screaming stress, Scott thought. I thought it was just 'cause he's wound tight, but this is more than that. "I got a phone call earlier today," he said. "We're going to be having some visitors in town."
Scott's brow furrowed. "What kind of visitors?"
"Hunters," Chris said. Scott's blood ran cold. "Hunters who don't work for me, for the sake of clarity. Only a few, but – well, they're not the ideal people for our situation. Their leader's name is Gunther Kage, and he has kind of a rough reputation."
"Coming from you, that really worries me."
"It should," Chris said, rubbing at his stubble. "Gunther is exceptionally violent. He's killed werewolves with his bare hands. He's easy to provoke and doesn't leave jobs unfinished, ever. He's kind of a legend, really."
Scott frowned. "You mean like Jack the Ripper?"
Chris scowled at him. "More like Davy Crockett," he said. "Rough, precise, and deadly."
"Did he mention why he was coming here?"
"No," Chris said.
Scott's frown deepened. "And you didn't think that'd be an important nugget of information to gather?"
"It's less important than avoiding contact with him," Chris said. "From everything I've heard, he's a hardliner – probably doesn't believe in peaceful coexistence between humans and the supernatural. So we're all going to have as little contact with him as possible, to try and keep from provoking him. If we're lucky he'll only be in town for a few days."
"Here's the sixty million dollar question," Scott said. "Does he follow the same code you do?"
"Yes," Chris replied. "But as with all things, codes can be stretched. In order to be square with the code, Gunther only has to be defending himself directly or be acting to prevent you from taking human life in the future. Plenty of hunters think that all werewolves are killers by their nature and simply execute them on sight. Now, he's almost certainly heard that we've forged a treaty of sorts, and I don't think he'd come here and just walk all over that. But the bottom line is that if he thinks for a second that he's justified in killing you, he'll do it without any hesitation."
Scott actually chuckled. "That last bit describes you just as well," he said. "Just saying. The difference, of course, is how much it takes for you to feel justified. Sorry, didn't mean to offend you, just thought that was interesting."
Chris shook his head. "It's okay," he said.
"So Lydia and I need to make ourselves scarce for while this guy's in town?" Scott asked.
Chris shook his head again. "No," he said. "If you're not plainly visible it'll make him uneasy. No, you're going to be right here by our sides when he arrives. We have dinner planned for the night after tomorrow – you and Lydia need to be here. To show our solidarity."
Scott nodded, skepticism flaring. "So you want us to hang out with the guy who probably wants to kill us, rather than hiding."
Chris smiled, a sad, chiding look. "No matter where you hide, Gunther Kage could find you," he said. "At least if you're here, we can try to convince him that our way works by showing him."
Scott eyed the kitchen. It was mostly rebuilt from the fight that occurred after Jason's execution, but it still clearly bore some scars from the fight, and the portion of the wall that had to be rebuilt completely noticeably bulged from the rest of the wall. "Let's just hope he doesn't ask about any of your recent renovations," Scott said. "Or how many times members of your family have shot me in the past few months."
"You're going to have to reign in that sarcasm," Chris said. "I barely put up with it. Gunther won't."
"You're right," Scott said. "I'm sorry. I'll try harder on that."
Chris crossed over to Scott and stuck out a hand. Scott, surprised, grasped it. "We'll get through this," Chris said. "He may be zealous, but he's not evil."
Scott breathed out slowly, let go of Chris' hand. "I'll take your word for it," he said. Until Gunther Kage proves you wrong.
"Remember, night after tomorrow is Gunther's welcome dinner," Chris said. "It's kind of a tradition for hunters. It's semi-formal, so you'll have to dress nice. Make sure to tell Lydia as well."
Scott rolled his eyes. "Won't be a problem for her."
***[]***
That night – after a brief, slightly terse discussion with her mother, father, and aunt about preparations for Gunther's visit – Allison sat up in her room reading when she heard a tap on her window. Grinning, she bounded of the bed and opened the window and Scott slithered inside. "You know, you should probably check and see who it is before throwing the window open," Scott said.
"You're the only thing that goes bump in the night that visits me via window," Allison said, planting a kiss on his nose. "If you're here for round two – or, you know, I guess more like round five after earlier – you might have to wait a day or two. I liked it but my body still needs to adjust to all the, er, activity. I'm a little sore."
Scott's brow instantly furrowed. "Did I hurt you?" he asked.
"No," Allison said. "Silly. This is natural. I may not have been a virgin before this week, but I still hadn't had sex in a long time. It takes time to adjust to doing it again. I'll be fine, I just need to rest."
"Should I go?" Scott said. "You know, so you can rest?"
Allison rolled her eyes. "Not that kind of rest," she said.
"Oh," Scott said. "Right." He took a seat on the edge of her bed and looked her up and down. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt and little else. The same panties she'd been wearing earlier, Scott thought, although he couldn't see them. Oh, God, I can smell that it's them. I can never ever tell her that. Not that it's a bad smell. It's a good smell. Oh, it's a good, good smell.
"Scott?" Allison asked. "You're staring."
Scott shook the cobwebs out. "Sorry," he said.
Allison sat down next to him on the bed and folded her legs under her. "What's up?"
"Just wanted your take on this whole Gunther Kage thing," Scott said. "You ever heard of him?"
"Scott, four months ago I thought hunters were guys in plaid with rifles shooting deer."
"Yeah, but you've done a lot of reading and stuff since then, right?" Scott asked.
Allison sighed. "Yeah, I've been studying," she said. "The code is all oral – you know, spoken, get your mind out of the gutter – but there's still lots of stuff in books on, you know, supernatural creatures and all that. But there isn't anything about the hunters themselves."
"Nothing?"
"Nothing," Allison confirmed. "I asked Dad about it a few weeks back. He said that hunters dedicate their lives to the code, so the code is all the biography they need. Kate rolled her eyes and said reading is for wussies anyway."
"Great," Scott said. He cast his eyes down to the floor, his back radiating stress.
"What is it?" Allison asked, snaking her arms around him.
"I just wanted things to go smooth for a little while," he said. "It felt like we were really making progress. You and me back together, your dad on board for the whole not murdering us thing, even Kate's been less, you know, Kate. And now this."
"Maybe this will go smoothly," Allison said.
"Now that you've actually said that out loud, how likely do you think it is?"
Allison thought for a second, letting Scott stare in stressed, dejected silence at her floor. Then, with resolution, she stood and peeled her t-shirt off over her head. Scott looked up as she dropped it into his field of vision. She stepped in front of him and grabbed at the corners of his own shirt, pulling off over his head even as he began to sputter. "Allison, what – I thought you said - "
"I did," Allison said. She dropped Scott's shirt next to her own and then climbed onto his lap, straddling him, him still sitting up. "And it's not that. I don't know what's going to happen in the next few days. Hell, I don't know what's going to happen in the next few months or years. And that scares me. Feeling your skin against mine makes me feel better. Kissing you makes me feel better. So kiss me." She bent slowly toward him.
He muttered, "I really hope your Dad doesn't barge in. He might rethink that whole 'not killing me' thing we were talking about earlier."
She muttered, "Shut up."
He did.
***[]***
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yeah, like I said, sorry that this chapter was mostly fluff. I've got relatively big plans for this next arc of Sell the Life of the World, and between research and freewriting exercises to develop the original characters (because Gunther is far from the only character you're going to be introduced to soon) it's taken a while to get this off the ground. Throw in the usual rigors of daily life – work, etc – and my attempts to get back to my own original writing (surprise, I'm a published author) – and the fact that my wife is now having spinal surgery on Thursday (!) - and you've got an idea of the relative maelstrom I've been living in for the past couple of weeks.
What I'm trying to say is that I haven't really hit a stride with producing content for the next arc of Sell the Life of the World. When I was posting the first ten chapters, I was consistently two or three chapters ahead – when posting chapter four I'd already written chapters five and six and was into seven, and so on. Hopefully I'll hit that stride again, but right now it's just not the case – I haven't actually written any of the story past the chapter you just read at the time it's being posted. What this all boils down to is that the updates to the story are going to remain slow for a while.
As ever, leave any applicable feedback in the reviews. Thanks for sticking with me!
