NOTE: I HAVE NOT SEEN THE LATEST EPISODE OF 'AGENTS OF SHIELD', NOR HAVE I SEEN 'AGENT CARTER', SO NO SPOILERS, PLEASE!
Warning: This involves Victor Creed and Phil Coulson as soulmates. I cannot emphasise that enough. It's not gonna be all that warm and fuzzy. If you don't think you can handle this chapter at any point, please stop reading.
"Cling to Faith and Honour"
The only thing Phil could do was run. Bullets were having no effect on the wild-eyed, racing man-beast behind him. After all, Sabretooth couldn't be called a man, nor could he be called a beast. And from what Phil had heard, he was beyond redemption, beyond help. All they could do was try to catch and contain him before his blood lust found itself satiated at the expense of another innocent person.
The comm. unit had gone down awhile ago. Phil had tried tapping it, bashing it, fiddling with the insides. Instead he'd attracted attention from Victor Creed, who'd given him a head start, like a lion playing with its prey. Phil's heart pounded as he continued to run for his life. If he didn't have the slightest hope that help might reach him in time, he wouldn't dare give Creed the satisfaction of making him run.
"Come on, May, come on," he hissed. "I don't know, Heimdall? If you can hear me… or Odin… Thor… Someone!"
One warning snarl had started Phil running. He knew he shouldn't glance over his shoulder, but the path ahead looked clear. He peeked over his shoulder, and realised that Creed, on all fours, was definitely gaining on him. Hell, he really was just toying with Phil; he could move faster than that. If it wouldn't look like giving in, Phil would be tempted to slow down, gives his lungs and legs a rest. But there was no time for that. He had to keep pushing himself until he was spent. 'Never give up; never surrender'. The words made him laugh when he watched Galaxy Quest; right now, they were the only thing keeping him going.
Blinking sweat away from his eyes, he rounded the corner, passing trees, and saw a barn up ahead. Was Creed forcing him there? Were there more bloodthirsty mutants wanting to tear him apart? Was he supposed to think the building was safe and find out that it was the most dangerous place to be?
Or was Phil just extremely lucky for once?
With possible safety – or at least some kind of end – in sight, he put on a bit more speed, and was nearly at the door when he was caught from behind and shoved against the door with a creak. A hand was around his throat, keeping him off the ground, and he tried to reach for any weapon.
"Stop fighting this and we can have some more fun," Creed growled, the deep tone moving up through his arm and into Phil's body. Tears came to his eyes when the unfairness hit him.
"I never imagined it would end like this," he said, almost wheezing around the tight grip.
He had a sudden influx of oxygen as Creed let go of his throat, but caught him around the waist.
"There, now," Creed said. "Hello. Well. If I'd known you were gonna say that to me, I would-a caught you a lot sooner. Wasted a lotta time chasin' you here when we could-a been mating in the forest, or the field, or in here if I was feelin' `specially…" He ran a hand down Phil's front and between his legs. "Amorous."
Phil groaned at the touch. His throat felt sore, but he'd had worse before. As chases and near-stranglings went, this was in the top three, easy.
"You bastard," he whispered.
"I'm sorry." Creed trailed his lips up Phil's neck, a hint of teeth and tongue dotting the way. "I'll make it up to you, baby."
"Not gonna happen," Phil said.
"You saying you don't want this?" Creed said, squeezing. Phil moaned. "Because your body is saying you do."
"Physiological reaction to stimulation. I don't want you."
"But Fate says you're gonna be mine." He pressed Phil against the wood and ground his palm harder. "I've been waitin' for you for a long time. You're the agent called Coulson, aren't you?"
"Phil."
"You want me to fill you? I'll be doin' that, no mistake."
"My name! Phillip."
Creed smiled toothily, his elongated fangs more noticeable up close. Phil wondered if all his victims felt this terrified.
"We're meant to be a match," Creed said, both his hands behind Phil's thighs. "Which means," he hoisted him up, and Phil wrapped his legs and arms around Creed to keep steady, "that your desires match mine."
"I doubt anyone's kinks could complement yours," Phil said. He held tighter instinctively as Creed opened the door.
"Are you sure about that?" The door closed behind them with an echoing thunk, and they were plunged into near-darkness.
Soulmate or no soulmate, Phil didn't care. He had a job to do, and if he had to kill Creed instead of bring him in, then so be it. It wouldn't affect his life; maybe he'd even get a replacement soulmate who wasn't a bestial serial killer, who would still at least match some of Phil's dangerous, dark desires. God knew Creed could actually do it. Could hold Phil down mercilessly, leave violent-looking love-bites all over his body, make Phil literally scream loud enough to make the windows rattle. Take everything he wanted from Phil and give him so much back just by using Phil's body for his own pleasure.
Everything he'd tried to escape from because he was one of the Good Guys. Everything he'd tried to find in people who didn't resemble the kind of monster Phil's body longed for, who embodied his horrifying wet dream.
"I can smell your want," Creed whispered.
Phil struck. He brought his joined fists down on the back of Creed's neck. As soon as he was dropped with a grunt, he ran up the steps he'd barely had time to notice when they entered the room, and tried to recall what else he'd seen. There were a few windows, but the late afternoon sun was already dipping. He heard Creed's chuckle, his footsteps as he climbed up the stairs after Phil.
"If you were a bitch, you'd be dripping," Creed said. "I could take you before you had a chance to call for help." Phil shivered, making as silently as he could for the ladder up to the loft. He could kick Creed down from there, as many times as it took. It was his best idea so far, and there might even be a skylight he could escape through, and hope that May found him. "There's no point in hiding. Now I know you're my soulmate, the animal inside of me will pursue you until you're on all fours in front of us."
Phil shook his head. That was never going to happen. He was one of the Good Guys; Creed was one of the Bad Guys. Never the twain shall fucking meet.
"There's no point in delaying the inevitable, Phil. You're going to be mine, and you're going to like it, because you were made for me. I wasn't born with my mark. You were created by Fate to complement my needs. I need you, Phil."
He was up the ladder now and searching for a means of escape. The light was slowly going down. Creed could probably see in the dark; Phil definitely couldn't. His only hope now was that they were soulmates; Creed was unlikely to want to kill him. Hell, from his words, it sounded like he really only wanted what Phil would freely give if Creed wasn't the enemy.
He blinked, dazzled, when lights suddenly flooded the room. Help was here!
…No, it wasn't. Creed had sped downstairs, switched on the lights, and was now leaping up steps and beams until he reached Phil. He couldn't stand, but he steadied himself against the ceiling as he struck out with a foot. Creed dodged it and pounced. Phil landed back on the hay, and it nearly knocked the breath out of him. He felt sick when Creed loomed over him, nostrils flaring.
"Whatever you think of me, I won't take you unwilling," he said, trailing a long-nailed finger down Phil's chest. "Much more fun for you to be begging for what you want. Because you know you want it. Your head's telling you that you shouldn't, but a brain can be manipulated. People can mould brains; the rest of the body is honest. Look at your HYDRA and the people they brainwash. Look at the Winter Soldier."
"Not my HYDRA," Phil choked out as Creed popped a few buttons.
"No. And if they make the mistake of coming after you, they're dead." That was… mildly reassuring. And the dark promise in Creed's tone aroused him. Phil never should've joined SHIELD, knowing that this could happen one day.
Or maybe… maybe that's why he joined. Because he knew that it was the best and safest way to find the one person who wanted the same things that he did.
"What're you going to do to me?" he asked. Creed growled low in his chest, and it felt like it travelled through Phil's, to his very core.
"I'm going to mate you," Creed said.
"I'm not a woman."
"I don't care about that."
"I can't get pregnant."
"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean I won't stop trying."
Phil licked his lips involuntarily, and he saw Creed's eyes track the movement.
"You still haven't convinced me," he said. "No amount of good sex could make me give in to you."
"I'm not promising good sex," Creed said, leaning closer until their noses were touching. "I'm promising you the best you'll ever get from anyone. And if you're interested…" He murmured directly into Phil's ear. "I have a knot."
A heartbeat later, Phil dragged him by the scruff of his neck into a heated kiss. He wrapped a leg around Creed's waist, arching against him despite everything in his head screaming at him to stop. He whimpered again as Creed shredded the front of his shirt and hauled it off.
"Careful of the tie," Phil said, handling it himself.
"You wanna be tied down?"
"I wanna be held down, goddamnit. You know that."
"I know everything you wish I didn't," Creed said.
"Please, Creed."
"Use my first name."
"…Victor."
"Whatever you want, Phil."
"Where's your mark?"
Creed's grin widened. "Not only mate, but bond. Better than I'd hoped."
"I… just wanna know… and see it."
Sabretooth pulled off his own long-sleeved shirt and bared his left arm. Across the crook was Phil's handwriting.
"Show me yours," Creed said. Phil hurriedly stripped out of his trousers to save those from the claws. His right thigh showed a spiky scrawl that had always matched Phil's mental picture of what his soulmate would be like.
This was exceeding expectations in the most heinous way, and he wished he could bring himself to escape. Creed said that he wouldn't force Phil. That didn't rule out heavy seduction.
"I'd never hurt my mate," Creed said softly, tracing the writing. Phil shuddered.
"I know," he said. Because he did.
"Unless you asked for it."
"I won't."
"Good. The only pain you should ever feel is want." The mutant leaned over Phil again and kissed the scar on his chest. His low growl promised death. "Who did this to you?"
"An Asgardian. Thor's brother, Loki."
"I'll kill him."
"He's an alien."
"He hurt my mate. He's a dead man."
Phil was strong. He was co-director of SHIELD with May. He could defend himself from most people, had co-ordinated superheroes, found some diamonds in the rough like Clint, Natasha, and Skye. He had people willing to look after him, and always reminded them that he would protect them just as much.
Creed didn't need protecting. Phil could never hope to match him. The display of protectiveness and possessiveness went against his field training, but it appealed to his soul, the one created to match this monster's cravings. He reached out and ran his fingers through the messy, matted hair of his soulmate, who looked up at him with suspicion. He traced Creed's mouth with his thumb, the mouth he wanted again. Everywhere.
"Don't stop," Phil said, his voice rasping.
"Say it again."
"I want it."
"Again."
"I want you, Victor. Please."
Creed scented him, his dark eyes growing impossibly darker.
"One more chance to back out," he said, sliding a nail up Phil's thigh to the elastic waistband of his underwear. Phil swallowed, breathed in and out, and let go.
"Mate me."
Three months later
Phil had dropped off the radar completely. Missing in action, presumed dead. Last known target: Victor Creed, aka Sabretooth. May smashed her fist against the punching bag again, making the seam begin to split. It was one of the reinforced ones in Stark Tower's gymnasium. After she broke one of the normal ones, she was restricted to Cap's punching bags.
After they traced the trackers in his watch, belt, and shoes to the barn, they searched high and low. Aside from a few traces of blood in the loft – barely enough for analysis – they'd activated the chip in his body. As with the ones in the watch, belt, and shoes, it had been dug out and left behind, only it'd been left in the tack room of the barn, along with a note written in blood, saying 'He's my soulmate. I'm sorry'.
Simmons had managed to analyse all the blood, and found that some of it was Phil's, and some was Creed's. There were barely any signs of a struggle, and none of the clues Phil might have left to suggest that he was being taken against his will. Either he was dead before he'd set foot in the barn, before the tracking chips had been removed, before the note was written in what did resemble his writing…
Or he was still alive and in enemy hands. Because there was no way Phil Coulson's soulmate could be Victor Creed. Sure, Phil wasn't entirely vanilla, from what May had observed; but not to the extent that he was a match for Sabretooth. No.
"Still no word?" Skye asked. May shook her head and delivered another roundhouse kick. "With Stark's help—"
"As long as Phil doesn't kill me for breaking protocol and telling them that he was alive," she muttered.
"What protocol? Phil kind of over-rode all that when he took over. Don't tell me you reinstated some of them without telling us?"
"His system was better," May said.
"Want me to get you water or something? No? A salad? A sparring partner who's unbreakable? Anything?"
May just stared at Skye until she raised her hands in surrender.
"Okay," she continued. "Just don't wear yourself out. You're the only director we have left."
A few days later they got a visit from Wolverine.
"I know you," Steve said, pointing at him. "Hey, Buck! C'mover here!"
"Yeah?"
"We fought together," Wolverine said, his lip curling. "James Howlett, also called Logan."
"And Wolverine," May said, passing the others. She shook his hand. "Thank you for agreeing to help out."
"Just the kind of assignment I'll enjoy," he said, staring into her eyes. May's grip tightened.
"You're my soulmate," she said.
"Apparently so, sweet cheeks."
"Do not call me 'sweet cheeks'." He smirked.
"Just kiddin', Director May," he said. "Pleasure to meet you. I hear you have a Sabretooth problem?"
"You've managed to kill him before," she said, finally letting go of his hand.
"You want me to do it again."
"He's taken one of ours." She pulled out the note and showed it to him. He sniffed the blood.
"Definitely Victor's, and someone else's," he said. "Your guy's?"
"Phil Coulson. We're hoping he's still alive."
"We were still together when Victor got his mark," Wolverine said. "It matched this. Do you have another sample?"
May frowned, and handed over one of Phil's forms. He inhaled.
"Matches, from what I remember," he said. "Do you have a photo of Coulson's mark?"
"Here." It was compulsory, and one of the things Skye hadn't deleted completely.
"Hate to say it, but that's definitely Victor's writing."
May swore fiercely.
"Phil's a good man," she said.
"Victor's more animal than I am. He'd never kill his soulmate. Take what's his, but never hurt him. I know that much."
"So either he coerced DC, or…" Skye trailed off, glancing at the others around them.
"He'd never make us worry like this," May said, scrunching the form in her hand. "He knows we'd be concerned."
"He also knows that you'd kill Victor," Wolverine said. "Is Coulson the kinda guy who'd put his soulmate above everything else?"
"No, and especially not a man like that," Clint said. "He gave his life to SHIELD, and for SHIELD. This isn't like him at all."
"And how well do you know him?" Wolverine asked over his shoulder. "Victor's appetite… is specific. If Coulson matches them, it's the kinda thing he'd never get from anyone else. He's not likely to give that up. I've only just met my soulmate, but I hate the idea of leaving her." He returned his attention to May. "I'll find Victor and Coulson if I can, but if Coulson won't leave Victor, I can't make him. Victor would kill anyone who took him away, and if he thinks you're in any way responsible, you'll all be in danger."
"We'll do anything for Coulson," Natasha said. The rest of them seconded that, and Wolverine hummed.
"Don't follow me," he said. "You won't like what you find."
"I'm going with you," May said. He raised an eyebrow. "I'm perfectly capable, and one of Phil's oldest friends. And you're my soulmate. You hate to leave me? I'm not too happy about the idea myself."
He scanned her body, and nodded.
"Okay," he said. "But you don't know Victor. If I tell you to do something, you do it. It's not about being stronger than you, even though I am, physically. It's about knowing my brother better than you do. We've been around a long time, fought alongside each other. Trust me?"
May nodded shortly. "I trust you."
"Good. Then pack. Absolute minimum. We leave in twenty."
Phil was curled up against Victor's side, his head resting on a highly-muscled arm. Hair tickled his nose, and he flexed the hand resting on his soulmate's chest. The scratch marks had long since faded, but flaking blood remained under his fingernails.
"Restless?" Victor mumbled sleepily. Phil's heart clenched, as it always did at the proof that his soulmate had a gentle side.
"Aren't I always?" he said.
"If you are, it means I haven't worn you out enough."
"We have to keep moving. You told me that last night."
Phil was trapped in Victor's arms, his favourite place in the world, and Victor squeezed him closer. Phil sighed.
"Wish we didn't have to hide," he said.
"We have to until they accept us."
"They can't accept us while they still think you're the bad guy."
"We both are," Victor reminded him. Phil nodded against his arm.
"We've done what we had to," he said. "I protect what's mine."
Victor growled contentedly under Phil's hand. "You're becoming more like me."
Phil was silent for a moment. "There's no one like you."
"I saw how you took down that AIM scum. SHIELD would never approve of those tactics. Even HYDRA would turn their nose up at that."
He knew it. He was aware that prolonged exposure to Victor had changed him. The more they touched each other, the more difficult it was to stop. Now he no longer shot to kill. He shot to slow down, then relished ripping apart his victim. The only comfort he gave himself was that they were going after the enemy. Sometimes Victor's enemy, but usually Phil's. Victor hated it when Phil acted as bait, but it was the best way to draw out their targets.
The bond had sealed their devotion to each other. They mated, they rested, they made love, then they searched out their kills. They used Victor's funds from his days as a mercenary to stay alive and on the move. They kept to the shadows, and stayed wherever Victor could make Phil scream without someone calling the cops.
Phil bought a lot of cough lollies.
"What about when they find us?" he asked Victor. "I know May. She'll find someone who can locate you."
"Jimmy," Victor said.
"Your brother?"
"He'd be her best bet."
"Will he shoot first?"
"He can't hurt me any more than I can hurt him."
"I don't want you hurt at all," Phil said, cuddling closer. Victor buried his nose in his soulmate's hair and breathed deeply.
"I'll be safe, Phil," he murmured.
"Let me talk to him first. If he sees that I'm unhurt—"
"Not by yourself. I'm not leavin' your side."
Phil nuzzled Victor's neck. "Gonna try to breed me again?"
Victor grinned, and rolled Phil onto his back.
Wolverine frowned as he read the StarkPad over May's shoulder.
"What's this?" he asked, pointing at the latest report.
"Ward's not the only rogue taking out HYDRA. This must be another ex-SHIELD agent with an axe to grind. Not that we teach any of this at SHIELD. The method's too consistent for it to be improvised each time."
"You sure it's one of yours?"
"Some would call this brutal," she said, flinching at one of the crime scene photos.
"Any of `em not HYDRA?"
"Of all the killings lately? They're from all over the place. Some of your people, but mainly… mainly people Phil's crossed." She frowned at Wolverine. "You know something."
"It looks like the kinda thing Victor would do. He likes crossin' people off lists. Might be doin' it to keep your man safe. Maybe Coulson's even helping `im."
"Phil wouldn't—"
"If they're still together, there's every chance they've bonded. The longer they stay together… Victor's beyond saving, or I thought he was."
"There's no way Phil could be corrupted—"
"If they're at an impasse, it's a productive one."
May sighed, and sat back. "I almost prefer the idea that he murdered Phil to the idea that he turned Phil into… someone like him."
"Just be prepared for whatever we find. From what you told me, he'd never go all the way to the bad side. But you can't expect him to be the same man he was before."
"He'll never be the man I knew years ago. Not after he was dragged back to life."
"Like I said, prepare yourself."
Despite his hard words, he took her hand and entwined their fingers together. May leaned into his side, and wondered just how much of himself he revealed every time he spoke about the relationship between Phil and Sabretooth. Would it be anything like that if she and Wolverine bonded?
No. Wolverine was more man than animal. Phil had gotten the other end of the stick.
They found Phil and Sabretooth tearing up two of the field agents Phil had trained. May knew just how angry he'd been when he found out how many of his protégés had turned out to be HYDRA all along. He seemed to be taking it especially to heart. Three other former agents lay dead and shredded around them. Wolverine held her back until the last two hearts were ripped out. She actually felt like she was going to throw up. It was rare to see this kind of carnage, and when it was Phil committing such horrendous acts…
Sabretooth raised his head, scenting the air, and turned his head in their direction. He smiled, all his teeth on display. Phil said something to him, glancing their way. Whatever Sabretooth told him seemed to reassure him, and they walked away, Phil leaning into his side while Sabretooth held him around the waist, talking to him and stroking his side.
"If I know Victor, I can guess exactly where they'll go," Wolverine said. "He didn't challenge us. We'll let them go first, then follow."
"What if we lose them?"
"We won't. Victor isn't running. He wants us to find them." He tucked her arm around his elbow. "Let's eat first, if you think you can stomach anything after that."
"I think a stiff drink's in order," she confessed.
"I know a bar."
"You sound like the kinda guy who always knows a bar."
"It's one I've never been kicked out of."
"Make a change?"
"Sure does, sweetheart."
All the alcohol in the world couldn't clear the day out of May's head. Especially when they found Phil and Sabretooth exactly where Wolverine said they would be.
She'd wanted to run in when she heard Phil's screams. When it became clear just what he was screaming, her jaw dropped and she felt a blush on her cheeks for the first time in years. Wolverine smirked.
"Either they stopped off for food somewhere, or Victor's stamina is better than I thought," he said.
"Don't sound so proud."
"He is my big brother."
They sneaked up and peered in a window. Phil was carving his nails into Sabretooth's back, begging and crying for more. The head of the bed was banging into the wall, and the look on Sabretooth's face was like a hungry animal. May had never seen a look like that on a human being, and it scared her that it was being aimed at her friend. Phil, on the other hand, was arching off the mattress, messy and red and bruised. He screamed again, body spasming, and then relaxed as Sabretooth lowered his legs back to his sides. There was a slight glow from Phil's soulmark; re-affirming their bond would make it stronger, and drag them further under each other's spell.
Judging by the look of bliss on Phil's face, he wouldn't have it any other way.
Wolverine made her wait under a tree close by. An hour later, the front door opened, and Sabretooth stepped out, wearing a pair of loose pants and nothing else.
"We're dressed," he said. "C'mon inside. I'll bet your dyin' to see Phil, even after that Peepin' Tom business."
"That what?" Phil asked. May walked inside, followed by Wolverine. Phil was cooking meat over a portable grill, and he flushed. "Hello, May."
"Hello?" she said. "That's all you have to say to me?"
"…I left a note."
"Written in your blood."
"We didn't have a pen, and I'd already taken out the tracking chip."
"We've been worried sick. I went to the Avengers for help!"
"And my brother," Sabretooth said, scowling at Wolverine. "You here to try to take him away from me?"
"He's not yours, Victor," Wolverine said.
"Yes, I am," Phil said indignantly. "Just as he's mine."
"You could've called," May said, her fists clenching and unclenching. Sabretooth moved slightly in front of Phil.
"We've been busy," Phil said.
"Real busy, from what we saw," Wolverine added. Phil flushed more red than he already was.
"That's private," he said. "You had no right—"
"Not talkin' about that. Talkin' about those dead people back there."
"We're getting rid of the bad guys," Phil said, looking at May. "That's what we do, remember? Victor wanted to help so that you'd accept us as a bonded couple."
"Why would you do this?" May asked. Phil took Sabretooth's hand.
"Because we were made for each other," he said. "I was literally made to suit him. Don't you see that I need him as much as he needs me?"
"All I see is a monster," May said sharply. Phil's eyes narrowed.
"That's my mate you're talking about," he said.
"Phil, you have to come back with us—"
"No!" Sabretooth roared.
"I'm not leaving without him," Phil said, holding Sabretooth back from her. "May, you don't understand."
"Phil—" she tried.
"I love him!"
There was silence after Phil's pronouncement. Sabretooth turned his head slowly and met Phil's eyes. Phil looked away, but Sabretooth cupped his face and brought it close.
"Love you, too, Phil," he said. Phil's smile was wide and beautiful.
"How?" May said, shaking her head.
"I'm sorry, May," he said. "But I'm where I need… where I want to be."
"But what about—"
"Nothing. I'm sorry, but I need you to understand that I can't be away from him. He's what I want."
"This is dangerous."
"Phil's as safe as he can be with me," Sabretooth said. "I'd die before any harm came to him."
May pursed her lips. "I don't like this."
"You don't have to, May. It's happening. Just let us keep doing what we're doing." Phil held out a hand to her, and she took it reluctantly. "After it's all over, we'll come back."
"How different will you be by then?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. I feel better than I have since T—"
He cut himself off, and May realised what he was referring to.
Phil did seem happier. He was passionate about something again, in a positive way. The way he'd been earlier, when they were taking out the enemy… it'd been a long time since she'd seen him so alive. It was terrible, what they were doing, but at least they were taking out the right people.
"Fine," she said, letting go of Phil's hand. "You have my number. Use it if you need help."
"I don't have a phone."
"Get one." She pulled out her wallet and handed him a fistful of bills. "It's on me. Bye, Phil."
She ignored his look of mild hurt and stalked out of the building. Wolverine followed on her heels.
"It's okay, sweetheart," he said. "You'll get him back one day. Best way to deal with this is find the people they're after, get to them first. You heard `im; sooner it's done…"
"The sooner he'll be back," she finished. "Let's go."
"Mind if I come along for the ride?"
She half-smiled, glancing up and down his body. He certainly was built. "I was hoping you'd say that."
"Want me to take your mind off today?"
"Please."
It was the first time Victor had been this gentle. It was sweet, but… kind of annoying.
"This relationship was never just about sex," Phil said. "You realise that, right?
"You deserve the best," Victor said. "That's not me."
"The best is my soulmate. That's you, Victor. Deal with it."
He smiled, stroking one hand down Phil's chest towards his abdomen.
"Anything for you, Phil," he said.
Creepy.
Title of fic from 'My Creed' by Edgar Albert Guest. I'm inappropriate like that, it seems. Anyway! This was the other pairing I'd been discussing with AnnaDruvez, and I hope I didn't scar anyone with the results.
I don't think I can describe just how much this took out of me. I sincerely hope that I never meet any of you, because I'm pretty sure I'd die of embarrassment based on this chapter alone. I'd get myself to a nunnery, but like I could stop writing fan fiction. And I'd end up excommunicated – or whatever we do in the Anglican church – if they found out the kind of thing I write. Oops.
Please review! I blame ozhawk for everything, but especially for May/Logan suddenly appearing.
