The guests were long gone from the Hall of Mirrors, most leaving the Collection, with other visitors sent to be escorted to the Hamlet for an overnight stay. Meanwhile, Bernice Summerfield was left bent over an empty refreshment table with her skirt pushed aside, panting, the man behind her already fastening his belt again.
With enough time alone, she and Irving Braxiatel had gotten to do both kinds of tango. And seeing each other's faces in the mirrors, it felt like they easily could've been exposed on all sides. At least they were otherwise still decent.
"Bloody hell. That was a risky one, wasn't it?" the woman commented, standing back up and then crouching down to get the underwear from around her ankles pulled on again.
Braxiatel chuckled, evidently far too amused.
"Riskier than on a blanket in the open under a proximity shimmer that we could've slipped out of at any moment? Or rolled over and fell in the lake with you practically wrestling me? That one was your idea," he pointed out, still clearly not protesting. She had been slightly surprised he didn't mind that at the time. It also wasn't anything near as random and spur of the moment as quite often in the past with Jason. But they were just falling over each other some days, and that had happened to be one of them.
Today was much the same- that just got repressed because of all the attention. And manners. It wasn't particularly polite to do that during dinner, was it?
She snorted back at his comment, getting behind Brax then putting her arms over his shoulders and around his neck, leaning over him for support.
"...Point taken. Still. Over a table in here. Practically exhibitionist. In more ways than your typical manner."
He straightened his cuffs and looked vaguely professional again- for about five seconds. "We're locked in and the windows still have their privacy shields up from the negotiations. Perfectly safe, if not as safe as in my TARDIS," Then his posture melted and he turned his head to kiss her, which she gladly accepted, albeit briefly.
Benny sighed against him. "Alright, fair. A more adventurous go-round though, for you. It already seems like aside from the first time you'll go for anything but a bed," she remarked.
"Why allow this to grow stale? It was still enjoyable, wasn't it? If your cries echoing off the ceiling were anything to go by..." he grinned cheekily and chuckled, brushing a loose lock of hair from over her face. She flushed again slightly, not that she wasn't red and sweating enough as it was.
Benny regardless rolled her eyes, "And I even would've won this time if you didn't cheat at it, too."
He did so in return, raising curious eyebrows and eyes widening, all in jest. "...Are there more rules to this little game that I'm not aware of? Is making use of preparations a problem?" The corners of his eyes wrinkled and his kiss-swollen lips curled, Irving positively emanating smugness.
Bernice sighed, assuring him there wasn't a problem here. Oh, there was certainly no problem there. "I'm not complaining about your hands, Irving. Nor do I mind them at all- goddess, no. But maybe we should reevaluate the point system? To when we're actually...?" She trailed off.
Brax only brushed it off. "I think that's overdoing it, personally, Bernice. Just accept that it's true," Braxiatel didn't even have to say 'it's better than anyone else you've had' because that was just so implicit. He couldn't have been positive unless he'd rummaged through either her diary or her head, but Irving seemed confident enough about it. And boasting or not, he'd be right.
Huffing, Benny surrendered. "Fine, fine. 6 to 1 is still an improvement on the ratio from what it had been for a while, I guess. Better than none."
He crossed his arms and made an excuse, evidently a sore winner even in that. There being one imperfect thing and he viewed it as a failure. "You know I don't expect to lose much- you just... caught me off-guard that time and it took my stamina away."
"Cocky bastard," she muttered, puffing and blowing a few loose strands of hair from her face.
"I believe that's one reason you like it, hmm?" he joked. She really did fall right into that one. And he said he couldn't talk dirty. Evidently, sometimes that was wrong when Irving loosened up.
She smirked, kissed him on the cheek, and leant right by his ear, whispering in it something so salacious that even an empty room shouldn't get to hear it. An absolutely filthy serenade of sweet nothings. One that perhaps a previous partner could take easily- but not Braxiatel.
Beet red, beads of sweat formed on his face as had a few times before with her wilder ideas, he tucked in and straightened the tie that she'd previously pulled out to drag him along to her lips with- she used the thing not unlike a leash. Brax swallowed and blinked, his brain seeming to freeze for a second.
"Erm- ah, heh... Would I be correct in assuming you would- would like to go again, then?" he stammered awkwardly.
Bernice shrugged. "When we actually go to bed, maybe. Yours is very comfortable, you know. It's a damn shame you don't use it much."
"I'll gladly invite you to do so. If you do wish to do something more conventional," he offered.
Benny pulled away from him and stretched her arms above her head, giving those cramped muscles room to breathe and relax. "Definitely. Goddess, yeah. You're creative, Brax. And I like it a lot- don't get me wrong. But my joints can only take so many weird spots in a row these days."
Noticing her stretching, Braxiatel placed his hands on her shoulders and began to carefully massage them, making her sigh in relief. "Noted. We can be more... gentle next time."
That sounded lovely, and Bernice nodded, just leaning into the cold touch. There was still something about it. A reminder that no matter how human he looked on the outside, he was as alien as could be. Clearly that didn't bother her, but whenever she started slipping into thinking of him as anything she'd seen before, that contact drove her out of it. Irving played his part, gave himself a name, dressed the way a human man might, even kept the same face- but this was unchangeable. And wonderful, in its own way.
She was also just so sick of sleeping alone when she still had to now, and his scent left over in the sheets of her bed made it all the more tempting, keeping her awake. The sweet musk of his cologne was just far too heavy a reminder to ignore, but obviously, it wasn't practical to wash them wherever he stayed, nor did she particularly want to.
She wanted to hold him so close. But Bernice wasn't that desperate. It should be reasonable, there should be boundaries. That codependency didn't need to become greater. And that meant not going to his room and forcing him to sleep every night just because she needed a cuddle.
Regardless, this arrangement was decently right for them, and that's what mattered. Making the nights they did share all the more special, regardless of how passionate they got. And this one was going to get very much so, if either of them had anything to say about it.
Once they were sufficiently put back together again, it wasn't a long journey back to Braxiatel's rooms. He couldn't let himself be seen out for long- the bruises she'd bitten into his neck were far too visible. With so many cameras from across the various news networks still around, even that could start a scandal. Less so with Bernice, but she was known enough for that.
When they walked, she stood towards the wall and held an arm over it to keep them from view of the windows, just in case.
Finally, they reached the heart of the mansionhouse. Entering and securely locking the door to his study behind them, Irving sat at his desk to finish up paperwork and saw her sit on the arm of a chair across from it.
He watched her intently.
The gown was particularly revealing at this angle, showing an entire bare leg and the whole thigh. He just had done so not twenty minutes before, but he wanted to touch it again. The feel of her skin, warm, soft- but not too smooth, nor delicate. Healed over signs of wear. Signature Bernice Summerfield.
Meanwhile, she wanted to pull him to the bedroom using that fancy tie of his, unbutton his dress shirt and feel the rapid beating of his hearts under her fingers. Free him of the stiff bureaucracy and let him be exposed in more ways than one.
The tension could be cut with a knife.
It felt like an eternity before either of them spoke again. Benny sat back on the edge of the chair, idly swinging her legs and finally mentioning something offhandedly, "I've been looking at some ancient artefacts lately..."
Brax raised an eyebrow and gave her a weird look. An odd thing to bring up right now. Even odder to need to mention it in the first place. He shuffled the papers and took a sharp breath.
"I would hope so. Considering your choice of profession..."
She rested her cheek on the back of one hand, continuing, feigning professional interest. "A particular one caught my eye. I always want to have a chance to investigate it," Benny murmured.
He missed the implication. Could it be at some other museum, perhaps? "Which one? Is there something stopping you?"
"Oh, layers of things," she laughed. Cloth, cloth, and more cloth. He probably thought paperwork and dirt.
Brax suggested a favour. "Perhaps we can figure out how to get those out of the way?"
"I would hope so. It's a rather lovely specimen," she commented.
"Then let me help you. A description, perhaps?" he asked curiously, already pulling up a page on the galactic web mass archives to have a search.
Benny remained casual, telling him exactly what he requested. With a massive enough hint that he couldn't miss it if he tried. "Oh, about six feet tall. Well-chiselled. Quite ancient- 4,500 years old, supposedly, but that's hard to date. The species the rare relic in question belongs to never do make much about themselves known."
It dawned on him in a moment of realization. Slightly embarrassed realization- whether he was flustered or disappointed in himself for not picking that up was hard to tell. He quickly closed the search and fiddled with his cufflinks. "Ah. I would be obliged to let you... investigate. You're the expert, aren't you?"
Benny shrugged, eyes narrowing cheekily. "I like to think that's the case. And that's quite the attractive offer."
"I believe there's a good place to complete your analysis through that door over there," Braxiatel pointed.
But regardless, she sighed. "It's such a shame I don't have my equipment here with me right now. To get the details, I'm going to need to take a taste test."
"Oh, I don't doubt it. You'll be able to perform a very close inspection in two minutes, Professor Summerfield," he smirked back.
"I know. I'll be waiting."
Two minutes later, bang on the dot, Irving pushed away the work and stood up from his chair, stepping to the side of the room and opening the connecting bedroom door.
"After you."
And they enthusiastically pulled each other to the bed.
It was three in the morning.
Irving lay there in his bed, with her head against his chest, ear and cheek pressed to his hearts, arm around her. He idly stroked her hair and stared at the ceiling, then over to the balcony window. She smelled of almond body wash and sweat and sex, but she was also so warm, so human. Asleep, yet brightly radiating those signs of life. Even without needing to use his time sense, which her winding, tangled timeline blinded when so close.
Apparently, he had been too cold for this to be comfortable before. Evidently, her room just needed a better blanket, because she was sleeping soundly now. Or she was just too exhausted from the sex for it to bother her. That had been more than satisfactory.
He pulled her closer, hoping to get some sleep himself, even if he didn't strictly need it. To pass the time, perhaps. They also had brought up that when they were entangled like this they seemed to have been sharing each other's dreams- of the less savoury variety. Or his night could just be a long absence, devoid of everything.
But anything was better than the third option.
He shuddered.
'Don't think of that name.'
He'd long since mapped out every inch of Bernice, running gentle fingers over her skin and memorizing it all. That didn't take long. For where she liked, where she didn't- but also simply to take in every wonderful detail. Every scratch, every callous, even every bump from a previously broken rib. Stealing the forbidden fruit that was such close, prolonged touch. Braxiatel knew things about her that once, long ago, he never thought he'd be allowed to know about anyone at all. One way or another.
It was also a way to remember. So many of the injuries she'd taken over the years were mental markers of what had happened, in another time, another place. He hadn't known about her arm until he felt the roughness on her shoulder, then he could recall exactly how long she'd been in the medical wing, waiting for her recovery- and what he'd been plotting in the meantime. And now he applied that to designing the beautiful gown that was currently in a messy pile somewhere on the floor.
Oh, there was as much regret as there was wonder with her. But that was hardly anything new. The fact that the wounds were healed over though- that was hope.
Unless he ruined it again.
How long?
How long would Benny be here in his arms?
Irving Braxiatel knew he was possessive. He'd stated a long time ago that he'd collected her, just like everything else here. Greed was his cardinal sin. Envy was his second. And if she left, found someone else, that was doubtlessly going to be difficult to handle again, given a taste of it. He didn't exactly care for when wrath moved up on the list. No one did. But that wouldn't be an unlikely outcome.
And yet.
The longer they had, the longer he had to be there to watch her age and wither away. Even with the time ring, even if she chose to keep wearing it with her loved ones still ageing- this couldn't be forever. She needed better than that.
Refusing to let the thoughts eat at him any longer, he took Bernice even closer up to him until she was practically crushing his chest.
All that pressure. Just to know she was there. But it did work, and his hearts beat slower as they calmed.
'My Benny.'
Irving kissed her forehead and hummed in contentment, knowing deep down that what mattered was them now. Not the dark thoughts the creature pushed to the surface.
Putting a finger to her temple, Brax felt something like a small static shock as a telepathic link slowly formed between them. It was incredibly light and faint, just granting him a relaxed, gentle sleepiness. He couldn't hear her thoughts, she couldn't hear him. Just a little help to perhaps have a night with something other than the creature, if not to spend it in a fantasy of their shared making.
That had far more to do with Bernice having a particularly clingy mind in those dreams. It quite literally drew him in and was harder to control than he'd prefer to admit. However, those were quite welcome distractions.
After the signals in her brain clouded Irving's mind with the chemicals it needed, he finally drifted off.
They shot awake, sweating and gasping for air.
"Goddess- keep goi... oh."
Benny grimaced in realization, then genuine disappointment. While seeming fairly unsurprised, Brax definitely shared the sentiment. The tangled pile of limbs they were in left him stuck mostly looking at the ceiling again.
"Ah. ...Good morning?" he muttered sheepishly, not even sure yet if it was morning.
Bernice growled in frustration, trying to untangle herself from him and quietly cursing at her libido. "Damn it. And a good part too."
Braxiatel seemed largely nonplussed about it, as he tended to act, shrugging it off the best he could. "Shame. It was. Well, there's no helping that."
Settling down again, she only sighed. "We need to start things lucid at some point. Not realize right in the middle."
"We don't have a telepathic bond, it's simply harder to remain connected. Sudden changes can sometimes just... make it snap," he explained. Obviously building an actual telepathic bond with anyone was an absolutely horrible idea. But at least there was an excuse.
Benny rubbed her temple and groaned. "Sudden changes, AKA- just before an orgasm. Is it at least not the middle of the night? Still dark out."
Irving twiddled his fingers and counted it out in his head, adjusting to reality so he could tap into his abilities again. "Give me a moment... hmm- it should be about... 4:17."
"Cruk. Way to make me even more tired. At least it didn't leave me with muscle cramps. Benefit to real wet dreams, I suppose." She was very tempted to just steal the duvet and bury herself in the covers. But she didn't, luckily, and just let it simmer.
He frowned. Even accessing his time sense was still fairly difficult- everything was just fuzzy. Fatigue. "Mmm, yes- I don't think I've gotten enough rest either, actually. I only joined you about an hour ago."
"Staying up less than four hours? That's a record for you," she scoffed.
"Well, needs must. There are only so many ways to pass the time. Not that I particularly mind having an excuse for more time in bed than biology dictates I need. You could say I'm getting spoiled in that regard."
Bernice let out a breath, looking back at everything. "You're not the only one, Brax. Still can't believe I'm spending it with someone who isn't likely going to die or definitely be mad with me later."
"You deserve that much, Benny," he reassured, stroking her hair again.
And this time, she didn't fight him on what she deserved, making a quiet 'uh-huh.' "I do. Feels so much better. Should've tried to find something healthier sooner. Not that I regret being like this, now. And I was so sure with us wasn't going to be particularly, no offence. But- goddess... how many years did I waste? Clinging onto something sour because there was the slightest bit of love there?"
He dodged the question. "I wouldn't try to estimate that, because the number would ultimately likely be very depressing."
Benny gave in and tried to push the night thoughts away. "Well- you're not wrong. ...Anyway. Sleep?"
"Would you care for me to initiate a full link again intentionally?" he offered. "That could speed up the process a bit."
She nodded, cuddling up to him.
"Yes, please."
"Very well. May our dreams be pleasant."
She moved up and pressed her forehead to his, humming contentedly when the soft static hit her temple.
"That, I think we can manage."