I would like to remind people that this fic has an 'R' rating. This means that I can post anything short of explicit sex. Just thought I'd let you know...

Oh, and the next chapters will be posted slower – school's starting again :P

A/N 1: As in the previous chapters – ideas for fic and character development, questions, plotbunnies, suggestions, flames, character pictures, corrections, additions, comments, and everything in between can be mailed to hack_heaven@usa.net

A/N 2: In regards to this interlude, I'm completely innocent. It was the two characters in question that insisted...*cough* (and to my defense it must be said that sex *can* be used to give characters depth...^_^)

Sabrin: What an evil idea! *eg* Wonder if I could work it in somewhere...

* * *

Fourth Interlude: Sexual Tensions

* * *

After nearly four years with someone, you learned to pay attention to the small things – the way they walked, their gestures, even the silence between their words. Jordane had become good at reading those small things over the years, and right now everything around Blade practically screamed frustration.

It wasn't a surprise – after three days with the Guardians Jordane had expected him to be frustrated – but even the fact that she'd seen it coming didn't help on her mood. She knew from experience that his preferred way to deal with frustration was training, and he was in no condition to do that. Headaches, fatigue, and hard physical training should not be mixed, but Blade had a nasty habit of ignoring his common sense.

As they entered their room, Blade started to rummage through his bag for his old training clothes, and Jordane sighed.

She could tell him that she didn't think it was a good idea, but she'd tried that approach before with no result. Or she could leave and come back later, and hope that he had worked out his frustration. She opted for the latter.

"I'm gonna get something to eat," she said with a small sigh. "I'll be back later."

Blade nodded absently, and pulled the clothes out of the bag. Jordane shook her head and left the room, and as she closed the door, she heard the sound of furniture being moved to clear the floor. She sighed again, then disappeared down the hallways.

* * *

When Jordane returned nearly an hour later, the room was silent, like she'd expected. She shut the door quietly and took a look around. The few pieces of furniture in the small room had yet to be moved back where they belonged, and a good part of the floor had been cleared to make room for workout. The faded clothes that Blade used when he trained had been tossed haphazardly on one of the chairs, with two familiar guns and several knives on top of them.

Jordane shook her head and headed towards the bathroom. A mist of hot, humid air greeted her as she opened the door, and she could feel her skin turning damp as the moisture came into contact with it.

Blade had obviously just gotten out of the shower – a towel hung loosely on his hips, and his wet hair was pretty much a tangled mess. Jordane leaned against the doorway, silently watching her partner in crime. Blade didn't bother to turn around. He knew she was there, and she knew that he knew it. They felt no need to start a pointless conversation, and instead they settled for a comfortable silence.

Jordane watched as Blade ran a brush through his still-damp hair, seemingly indifferent to the fact that he was only wearing a towel. The beginning of a new bruise caught Jordane's attention and she winced slightly. She knew where it came from, of course. Blade did not tolerate shortcomings, especially not in himself. He wanted to be – and probably was – the best, but the training he put himself through was brutal.

"You push yourself too far," she finally said and shook her head.

"Failure is not an option," Blade replied with a dismissive gesture.

Jordane sighed. She'd head the reply countless times before, but she still didn't like it. But at least this time he was still able to remain on his feet. That hadn't always been the case in the past, especially not if he felt he'd screwed up during an assignment.

"It's just...I'm worried about you," she admitted.

Finally Blade turned around and looked at her in amusement.

"Worried? About me?" he asked and raised an eyebrow.

Jordane blushed slightly and looked away.

"I'm your friend. I have a right to be concerned," she said defensively. "You might not like it, but..."

Blade moved closer and Jordane trailed off.

"I don't mind," he mumbled and stroked her cheek affectionately. Jordane's breath hitched and she became painfully aware of just how few layers of clothes separated them. Blade was standing so close to her that Jordane could feel the heat from his body, and she felt the hairs at the back of her neck rise in anticipation.

Blade ran a hand down her arm, barely brushing her heated skin, and she bit her lips lightly.

"Don't play with me..." she pleaded softly. For the first time in years, Jordane felt defenseless. Had he been any other man, she could easily have dealt with him, but not Blade. He knew her too well; wielded too much power over her.

"Never with you, my Queen," Blade whispered and caressed a lock of faded, blue hair. "Never with you."

He ran a hand down her side, pausing briefly to caress her left nipple with a feather-light touch, and Jordane bit back a moan. It felt so right, so good. She'd wanted him almost from the day she met him, and she had waited impatiently for him to see her as something other than a stubborn child.

And now, it appeared, she would get her wish. The consequences no longer mattered, only the present did.

Blade drew her closer, and Jordane wrapped her legs around his waist, tossing the towel on the floor. Their mouths met in a hungry kiss, their tongues searching, teasing as their hands started to wander, caressing soft skin and hard muscle. They were determined to finish what they'd started earlier in the warehouse, and this time there would be no one to stop them.

He carried her out of the bathroom, never breaking the kiss. They stopped next to the bed, unwilling to let go of each other, even for the briefest of moments. Finally Jordane drew away, her breath fast and ragged.

"Bed. Now," she gasped, her eyes already darkened with desire.

Blade smirked and bit lightly in the soft skin of her throat, forcing another moan from Jordane. She was so passionate, so responsive to his touch. Deadly, fierce, loyal...she was perfect. And more importantly - she was his, and his alone.

"Impatient, are we?" he teased gently.

"Fuck you," Jordane mumbled and kissed him again.

"...That *was* the plan," Blade smirked. "Glad you approve."

She dug her nails into his back, leaving red marks behind, but they were both beyond caring. Never breaking the kiss they fell down on the bed, hands exploring and getting rid of the last pieces of clothes, tongues clashing and teasing as they lost themselves in each other. The world outside no longer existed, only their own, little universe did.

Neither got much sleep that night.

* * *

Coming up: Ryan takes the recent events rather personal, and the Guardians are forced to face the fact that Jhonen isn't coming back. And just when things look worst, Prue visits an old friend who can tell about some disturbing rumors...