Author's Note: Well, I hope you are all coming down from that action-high we had last chapter, cuz this one is a little more pensive, unfortunately, heh. Updates for this story might slow down, also, cuz I'm starting to run out of pre-written stuff… eeep.

Mrs. Mina Harker: Glad you liked the chase. I'd never written one before. Illyria and Ezekiel are, indeed, very much a couple.

Marcus Lazarus: It's true – the F.T.S is equal vampires and werewolves, heh. Yay! Thanks, regarding the car chase. You have no idea how relieved I am O.O And that topic will come up… soon XD

Drakena: I guess I'm safe from your OC bashing then, aren't I? XD

LotRseer3350: Thanks muchly.

funyun I'm flattered by your kind words; really, I am. They mean a lot to me. Hope you enjoyed the wedding.

Sethoz: Thanks, 'Thoz! And you have no reason to be jealous o.O Hear me? Heh, about Exuro… I can't help it XD Heh, one of my favourite Sawyer quotes there. Bwahah.

BloodMoonLycan: Heh, thanks, buddy. Very glad you liked. And your world isn't sad! XD

Now for Part Six of Eternal Midnight…

Strand opened the doors after being admitted entry, wary and cautious, glancing around at the expensive furnishings and decoration of the room, from the paintings by famous American artists, to the shelves of literature by some of the greatest writers in history. Volumes new and old adorned the room, and Strand looked nervous, eyes peering about somewhat quickly.

This, of course, made Samuel rather suspicious. He had a sneaking suspicion he knew what was coming. "What is it, Strand?" He kept his eyes on the papers he was perusing, orders he had to sign for a go-ahead on some new weaponry or some such. He always found it hard to read this junk when the beginnings of a headache were sneaking up on him.

Strand muttered for a moment, ran his hands through his hair, and said, "A failure, sir."

Samuel Woods' dark eyes left his paperwork at once, and Strand even cowered beneath them as they were turned upon him. He knew what was coming, and Samuel did not disappoint, "How the hell did we fail, Strand?"

"They were all destroyed, sir… all three vehicles."

"How?"

"They… two of the Quattuor were being pursued; sir, but we made a mistake."

"And what mistake would that be?" His patience was running thin, and fast.

"… The alpha male was in the car."

"Exuro was in the car?" Samuel saw the nod. "Who was the other?"

"Lacertus, sir, the old omega."

Samuel did not move or react for a long time, simply staring at the man, before he shoved all the papers aside, and cursed very loudly, removing his glasses briskly and roughly, tearing them from his face practically, and throwing them down, regardless of their frailty. He could afford more. His intense gaze bore into Strand intensely, and he growled, "I want them destroyed!"

"Y-yes, sir, we know… but it's proving more and more difficult. Not one of our men survived the ambush sir… though there was blood at the scene that we tested, and discovered to be lycanthropic."

Samuel froze at that, eyeing Strand, as he asked, "Werewolf blood?" A nod. "One was hurt?" Another nod. "Do we know who?"

"From the samples on record, sir… we believe it to be Exuro."

Samuel smiled, and laughed. "Cocky son of a bitch… bet he didn't like that."

Strand smiled wanly, almost forced, before saying, "He will heal though, sir… and quite quickly, we know."

"I know, I know… but at least now you people know he can be hurt, and maybe that will help you to think of something that will work!"

Strand cowered again, as he stepped hesitantly closer, reaching into his pants pocket, and pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. "Actually, sir… I think we do have something that could work… there's a very high probability."

"I'm waiting," Samuel grumbled, sitting back in his tall leather chair and reclining slightly, knotting his hands in front of his face as he listened.

"A long time ago, your grandfather… great-grandfather, had to contend with companions of Exuro's alter ego, who tried to get him back. Only three of them are still alive… four are dead."

"Yes, I know that. One was killed by Exuro himself."

"Right," Strand agreed, and lay the paper down carefully on the edge of the polished desk. "But the remaining three have been following, tracking and performing surveillance in regards to the Quattuor for years now… near on one hundred and five, actually, sir… they've had contact and conflict with them… and I think they can help."

"Is that right? How do we know these creatures can be trusted? If I'm thinking on the right track here, the 'people' you speak of are vampires and werewolves… the very kinds of creature that I am trying to stop."

Strand nodded. "That's right, sir… but we're running out of viable options, and I think these three can do it…"

Samuel sensed the hesitation, and his eyes floated up to meet Strand's. "There's something else…"

Strand nodded slowly, saying, "One of them is Exuro's old lover, sir."

Samuel sighed, slipping into consideration, staring down at the piece of paper for a long time. The three names were written there, and a contact number. Why hadn't this been considered before? He couldn't help but wonder… but Strand had a point. They were just about out of useable options, and time was running out. Something was on the cards, he knew… he could feel it, and whatever it was, needed to be stopped… and it probably involved the blasted Quattuor.

Samuel's eyes lifted into Strand's once again.

"Call them."

Light guitar riffs and chords played through the surround speakers as she sat, knees drawn up flexibly onto the couch under her… not so much a couch as the same armchair she had found comfort in on the lap of another not so long ago. Her keen blue eyes found the wall clock, and she sighed impatiently, undertoned with concern.

She refrained from showing her real concern, far from alone in the room. Cigarette smoke curled up from the tip of Gladius' lit butt, and she watched it for a moment, before grumbling, "Do you mind? I'm eating…"

Gladius' dark eyes looked to her, and he sighed loudly, before he leaned forward, and extinguished the cigarette in the ashtray, glancing back to his lupa – a respectful title for an alpha female – briefly, leaning into the couch once again.

Jerk, she thought, and muttered, "Thank you," out of forced consideration, digging her spoon back into the tub. She read the ingredients as she scooped, and then lifted out her spoonful, eating the 'Cookie Dough' ice cream, probably out of sheer boredom. But then again, Falx knew she had always been rather fond of ice cream… especially 'Ben & Jerry's'… there was always a stock in the freezer. She made sure of that. Digging around again, she glanced once more to the clock.

They were late.

Exuro and Lacertus were never late.

A chill ran up her exposed arms for a moment, a sensation that was completely unrelated to the ice cream she knew, and she swallowed her mouthful slowly as something like an instinct filled her. Her blue eyes lifted from the tub, and she leaned forward slowly, placing it – along with the buried spoon – back onto the table. Gladius eyed her curiously, furrowing his brow, even as she twisted in her seat, hearing something now. Her heart constricted, even as the scent hit her, moments before the door was kicked open.

"Oh god," she gasped, and leapt from her chair as Lacertus came through the door, Exuro supported against him, limping on one leg. She was at his side at once, and she touched a hand to his bloodied face, feeling the dampness of it, despite the fact that the cut was healed already, so confirmed when she stroked some hair from his sticky brow, seeing nothing. "Shit… what happened?" She practically growled at Lacertus, though she knew it probably wasn't his fault.

"Woods…"

Falx snarled loudly, the sound bubbling up her throat and out, even as she tried to see where else her lover was wounded. "Exuro, look at me… look at me, baby, please."

The green eyes met hers, and she stared into them for a moment, before saying, "Gladius, get your ass off the couch, and help."

Obviously begrudgingly, the omega came to their aid, and took Lacertus' place, with the alpha male's arm over his shoulder, and he and Falx moved Exuro to the couch. He was probably just groggy and still a little wounded, but he had obviously taken a huge blow, and an instinctual fear and need to protect her mate had overtaken the alpha female. She shooed Gladius away afterwards, even as Exuro sat upright, refusing to lie down.

"Exuro… talk to me; c'mon… tell me you're all right."

"I'm all right," he grumbled quietly, closing his eyes and setting his jaw as he rocked his head back a little. "I'm all right."

Claiming his jaw in her hand gently, she kissed him, feeling her worry flow out of her through that contact, just glad to have him back in her arms. She never normally showed so much emotion, other than malice and mischief, obviously… but now, with the threat to Exuro's life, she couldn't help but let it to the surface. She broke from her reassuring kiss, stroking her hand back carefully through Exuro's blonde hair, and looked to Lacertus pointedly, seeing his concern for his leader, asking sternly, "Tell me exactly what happened."

"We were heading back from the hit," Lacertus responded. "Guy hadn't even seen us coming, and it was over before we knew it. We planned to come straight back, but on the way, three SUVs chased us. We knocked two of 'em out before anything really happened, on the highway. Exuro jumped out… but…"

Falx waited… impatient. She glared, before her lover's voice broke the silence, "I got hit."

The blue met the green at once, and she angled her face down to meet his gaze directly, asking, "What do you mean you 'got hit'?"

"By the fucking SUV," Exuro growled. "I got hit… I didn't move in time, and the bastard slammed me. I'm fine."

"How badly were you hurt?"

He refused, stubbornly – and proudly no doubt – to answer.

"How badly was he hurt?" she asked of Lacertus instead, hearing Exuro's exaggerated sigh. Gladius was watching intently.

"I'm… not sure. Cut to the head… a limp in the knee. I couldn't really see much else… and I didn't ask."

Because you know what's good for you, Falx thought subconsciously, and looked back to Exuro. "Would you just tell me where you were hurt, for Christ's sake, and stop being so stubborn?"

There was a long moment, before he replied, "I dislocated a shoulder, I think I smashed the knee, the cut is gone, and I got winded pretty bad. Ribs maybe… I'm healing, Falx."

"I know you're healing, but that doesn't mean I can't care or worry, so shut up and sit still." Falx stood, looking to Lacertus and Gladius. "If it's the last thing I do, I'll tear out Woods' heart, and…"

Gladius and Lacertus were silent for a long while, before the former said, "So you think the whole thing was a set up?"

Falx hadn't even really considered the implications until the omega had spoken, and she glanced back down at Exuro. "He could be right. The hit… you said it had been over quickly. Too quickly?"

"Five minutes once the guy was out of the bar, maybe less," Lacertus confirmed.

"Son of a bitch is desperate," Exuro exhaled, closing his eyes to rest for a moment, leaning back against the chair. "Trying to beat us in our game."

Falx growled again. "He should just keep his goddamn nose out. He needs to learn his lesson already. You think he would have after what's happened in the past."

Gladius shrugged. "Like you said… he's desperate."

Anise walked somewhat hesitantly down the immaculate hallways with her two companions, their new allies left back at their 'headquarters', in secret. Apparently, this new generation of Woods didn't know about them, and they wanted it kept that way… at least for now.

Anise Delacroix felt the burning hatred for anything Woods… it had been Sebastian Woods who had made her watch in pain as Tom Sawyer had been taken from her, replaced by the murderous and cruel Exuro. He had stolen the man she had loved from her, and she took some small comfort in knowing he was dead… though she wished she were responsible.

Mina and Dmitri shadowed her in front and behind, with the Russian walking, intimidating, at the rear. She took comfort in his presence, knowing he would do anything in his power to protect the two women… not that they were anything but capable on their own. It was just in Dmitri's gentle nature to be protective, she knew.

They were flanked – at a distance she noticed – by two men, wearing tidy suits, with earpieces connected to their collars. She cast a glance over their shoulder at them, even as Mina thrust open some doors in front of her at the end of the corridor, striding confidently into – what appeared to be – a conference room, filled with men in jackets and ties, expensive clothing, and immaculate taste… government officials, she guessed. At the head of the table was the man she recognised from newspapers and TV reports to be Samuel Woods… the great-grandson to the bastard Sebastian.

"I see you've made yourself at home, Miss Harker," Woods said blandly, glancing half heartedly to his companions around the table, middle aged men with nothing but politics in their lives.

"Mrs. Harker," Mina corrected bluntly, and strode up to stand some five feet from him. "You wouldn't explain over the phone… what is this all about, Woods?"

"Oh, such venom," Woods sighed, and stood. "Very well. Shall we discuss this in private?"

"In front of your colleagues is just fine, Woods," Mina responded in correction. "Surely whatever you have to say to myself and my associates can be shared with these… 'fine' men." She eyed them all with contempt, and one or two shied under her intense, cool gaze.

Woods glared. "Fine," he practically hissed after a moment, and seated himself again. "Would you care to seat yourselves?"

"We'd rather stand and get this over with. Whatever you have to say can surely not interest us…" Mina was making a point of being rude, and Anise backed her firmly, standing behind her – along with Dmitri – almost like a shadow. The Russian was silent, as per normal, and the two werewolves settled for listening, letting the vampire do the talking as was tradition, almost.

Quite suddenly, Woods said, "We've lost control…"

Mina's voice was laced with exaggerated sarcasm, which practically dripped from her every word as she replied, "How shocking…"

Woods' eyes narrowed for a moment, and he glanced down the table at his silent colleagues, before glancing back to Mina and her two companions saying, "I need you to lead a team–"

"No need for that," Mina interrupted, cocking her head in a distrusting manner. "Perhaps we can help each other." She raised an eyebrow. "How does that sit with you, Mr. Woods?"

Anise eyed the men at the table curiously and cautiously, very wary of being in this large, government building… she felt confined. She had felt wary around them ever since she and Dmitri had been used effectively as bait for Tom… she quickly forced her mind back into focus.

"What exactly is it you are proposing, Mrs. Harker?"

"Well," Mina began confidently, "as you are aware, we have our own intentions when pursuing your… Quattuor, as they call themselves. We, unlike you, do not wish to destroy them… at least not all of them."

"Ah yes," Woods sighed. "Exuro."

"Don't call him that," Anise said suddenly, and cursed her retaliation, falling silent once again… at least for a moment. "He once served your government… as a human. You've turned your back on him, you coward… you and the rest of your country."

There was something in Woods' eyes that made her think he was going to retort in a fiery manner, but instead, he simply corrected, "Very well… Tom Sawyer, then. What about him? Surely you do not wish to save him after what he's done. You perhaps know better than I do all the people he's killed."

Mina ignored this, pointedly, and moved right along. "You wish to have them stopped… we wish to recover Sawyer. By any means necessary. Surely we do not have to work against one another in reaching these goals. We can help you… and I have a sneaking suspicion… that you can help us…" She narrowed her eyes. "Would I be correct in that assumption?"

What is she talking about? Anise couldn't help but think, eyeing her companion inquisitively, as did Dmitri by her side. The Russian lycanthrope cocked his head a little, but the two tried not to show their intrigue. Did Mina know something they did not?

Woods seemed reluctant, before he looked to his fellows, down at himself, and then sighed. "Yes… yes, you would be correct."

Anise glanced to Dmitri, who looked back down at her, equally as curious. Had Mina just been guessing, or had she actually known something of what Woods spoke?

"We've been working on a way to… reverse the process, for some time now, and only now have we developed something we believe to be… sufficient. But of course, with no way to test it, we can't be sure," Woods was saying, and the companions at the table looked just as intrigued as Anise and Dmitri. If Mina was curious or astounded, she didn't show it. "We believe, though, that it would be powerful enough to reverse what my ancestor did to them… destroy the soldier alter egos, and return them to who they once were. In your case… Exuro would once again become Tom Sawyer."

Anise couldn't stop her heart from beating so much faster than was normal, and she felt the infuriating tears burn in her eyes again. She blinked them back, luckily, and listened anew.

"… In return for your cooperation," Woods began, somewhat hesitantly, "… I would be willing to give you the drug, so you could get Sawyer back." He sighed heavily, and hung his head a little, rubbing his eyes with a thumb and forefinger, as though weary or ashamed of his defeat.

Mina uncrossed her arms from her chest, and strode up to Woods' chair calmly, extending a hand. "We have a deal, Mr. Woods… the collapse of the Quattuor, for the reversal drug."

Woods looked up, and to Mina's hand, before he stood, almost reluctantly, and shook her hand in agreement, sighing noticeably. Mina smiled just subtly, and turned her head back to Anise and Dmitri, even as Woods said, "I can have men and supplies–"

"Oh that won't be necessary, Mr. Woods… we have some people to help us already. And I'd be most appreciative if you could keep from breathing down our necks. If necessary… we will contact you… is that acceptable?"

Woods looked about ready to explode with disagreement, but instead, bit down his anger at being ordered around, and said, "Very well. I will arrange to have the drug supplied to you. 'Happy hunting'…"

With that, Mina, Anise and Dmitri left the room, heading back for the doors where they had entered, only too happy to be out of the building, and away from the men responsible for all of this.

A cure… Anise's mind was in overdrive, swarming with confusion. There's a cure…

Gladius couldn't really comprehend what had happened, but that didn't mean he wasn't intrigued. It had been so close… from the sounds of it, Exuro – and perhaps even Lacertus too – had nearly been killed. That would have meant Gladius would have had a good chance at reclaiming his old position.

He looked down to Exuro on the couch, who sat with his head forward again, his lover pestering him to check he was all right. Before he could stop himself, he sighed loudly. Lacertus narrowed his eyes from beside him, pulling off his black jacket, and tossing it aside, onto the back of the armchair, as he asked, "What's your problem? You weren't the one who nearly got pumped full of holes."

Gladius looked to the younger werewolf, and growled quietly. "No… I wasn't."

Lacertus cocked his head, brow furrowed.

"I'm starting to wonder what New York looks like when I don't see it out the window, actually," Gladius said almost casually.

Exuro looked up from the couch. "What the hell are you trying to say, Gladius?"

"I know you don't trust me, and frankly, I don't give a shit, but I'm good at my job…"

"You enjoy it too much," Lacertus grumbled irritably, and moved away, to stand behind the couch where Exuro sat.

"Well excuse me for taking a little pleasure in what I do…" Gladius rolled his eyes.

"The reason I never take you anywhere is because I don't trust you… as you said," Exuro began, and it was with a certain degree of venom that he did so.

Here we go again… brat.

"In fact, I'm starting to wonder why I keep you around…" Exuro stood, despite Falx telling him to sit down. She moved back, sighing loudly and irritably as she did so, and stood behind her obviously angered mate. Gladius just watched… waited. "Actually… I wouldn't be surprised if you had something to do with what happened tonight. It's no secret you're pissed I stole your title… or won it, I should say."

Gladius growled, loudly, and he felt his eyes wane. "You arrogant…"

"Finish that sentence, Gladius… I dare you…" Exuro's growl resonated and rumbled loudly, and silver flashed. He practically bristled with energy, and preparation.

Gladius wasn't so sure of his chances in another fight with Exuro, but for the sake of his pride, he was willing to try. He genuinely had had nothing to do with what had happened to Exuro and Lacertus… and the mention of the loss of alpha also riled him, as Exuro well knew. Antagonising little…

Gladius growled. "You think I had something to do with this?"

Exuro simply cocked his head.

"You're wrong… as shocking as that might seem to you, 'alpha'," he spoke the title mockingly, and he continued in a growl, "… you are quite often wrong… about a great many things." Though he wasn't sure why, his lupine eyes glanced to Falx, who narrowed her own.

Exuro snapped out a snarl, and shoved Gladius back. That was it… his patience had worn out, his tether snapped. With a short bellowed growl, Gladius let his fangs extend, the hair bristling all over his form. Exuro mimicked, his eyes a liquid metallic silver, his hair bleeding black at the roots and seeping through his blonde locks. Fangs pushed through his gums as well, and he would soon start to grow. Gladius was well aware of the fact that Exuro towered over him in lupine form, and far outshone him for prowess and muscle, but he was willing to try. After all, he was wounded.

But before they could go any further, a roar of "Stop it!" broke apart their potential conflict, and the beautiful form of a furious Falx thrust between them. Her eyes were two dark pools of black, and she growled dangerously, snarling, "Step away, omega…"

He despised that name she gave him… even though it was his title. But it was so degrading, and made him want to tear her throat out. With a quiet growl of reluctance, he did so, seeing Falx place a hand on her lover's chest without meeting his silver gaze. She was too busy watching Gladius to ensure he kept his distance.

"Keep yourself together, dammit," she warned, and then looked to Exuro, even as the silver melted into green slowly. "Come on…" Stroking a hand down his partially exposed chest, she led Exuro from the room. Gladius watched them angrily, his face twisted into a sneer, and he looked momentarily to a somewhat triumphant Lacertus, before storming from the room.

"How are things coming along?"

His voice echoed through the cavernous warehouse chamber, and striding up beside him was Donovan Masters confidently, a pistol at his side, as he responded, "Things are coming along as planned… smoothly and quickly. We should be up and running in a few hours if we keep up the pace."

"Excellent." Robert Larson smiled, his keen, cunning eyes peering over the balcony upper level of the large room, near to an office he had claimed – understandably so – as his own. His hands gripped the railing gently, and he cast his eyes out over the operation floor as it was being set up. Scientists in lab coats, and soldiers in fatigues with firearms bustled everywhere, arranging equipment, such as laptop computers, paperwork, vials, test tubes, and containers. His eyes rested on the large, metal containers for a moment, and he looked sidelong to Masters. "Are they sufficient?" He nodded to the huge crate-like boxes.

Masters considered them pensively with brown eyes, furrowing his brow for a moment, before he crossed his arms over his muscular chest, and nodded. "I'm confident they're adequate, sir, if that's what you mean. If you want my honest opinion… a raging rhino would hardly make a dent in those things." He smiled somewhat slyly, and laughed quietly.

Larson nodded slowly, and looked down at the scientific equipment being set up. "Make sure everything's in order, and then come to me. We need to get things in motion as soon as possible. According to sources, everything's in place… we have to act whilst the time is right."

"Absolutely, sir," Masters agreed, nodded curtly in acknowledgement, and then walked away with large, confident and intent strides, jogging down the steps to the floor below, and overseeing operations, barking out orders where necessary.

Larson watched, running things over in his mind, looking down at the vials, beakers, diagrams, charts, and setting his gaze on the two containers.

They'll hold, he told himself. If Masters says they'll hold… they'll hold.

Sighing, he leaned against the railing to watch.

Exuro winced slightly when Falx wasn't looking, hearing her close the door firmly but quietly behind them. He was still bubbling with rage at Gladius' nerve, and he growled quietly despite his attempts not to. Falx came up behind him, ran a hand around his back, and to his waist. She kissed the back and side of his neck.

"Let me help you," she whispered in his ear, and he tilted his head sideways at the sound of her voice, sighing in a more relaxed manner.

"I'm fine," he countered quietly, stubbornly. He heard and felt her move away, and into the bathroom adjacent to their bedroom. She turned on the water, and Exuro simply stood in the centre of the room, closing his eyes to think over what had happened. It was chaotic in his mind, and even as he stood there, his mind flashed blindingly, and he winced again, recalling his past… no, not his past…

"Don't worry… I've had my fill of throats for this evening…"

With a brisk shake of the head, he opened his eyes, mildly concerned. They were getting worse, he knew, but he would be damned before he told anyone about them. Falx emerged from the bathroom at that point, a cloth and bowl in her hands, and she set them down on the small table near to where he stood, coming to stand in front of him, repeating with discreet seduction, "Let me help you…"

And so it was, that when she reached up to remove his jacket, he didn't fight her. He let it fall from his shoulders, to the floor, even as she unbuttoned his shirt for him. He watched her, silently, breathing in her scent subtly, intoxicated by it as always. She pushed his shirt back slowly, taking care with his still-sore shoulder, and eased it down his arms for him, brushing the skin on the way down, making the hairs rise slowly as she did so. Her blue eyes rose into his own gaze, and then she angled her attention to the side of his face, taking his jaw gently in her left hand, and turning it to see where the wound had been. She reached over and moistened the towel, bringing it back to wipe the blood from his face for him, slowly but steadily. He couldn't take his eyes off her as she did so, breathing rhythmically, but feeling his heart and body cry out for her, despite her already intimate and immediate proximity.

The cloth came away from his face, and Falx's blue eyes took a few seconds to meet his again. No words were exchanged… they didn't need them anymore. In their hundred years together, they had learned the fine art of reading one another's body language and expressions exactly… words were just a convenience. She dropped the cloth, and kissed him softly, gently almost. It wasn't often that she did so, but he didn't object, closing his eyes, tasting her, and almost smiling. The subtle flavour of chocolate greeted him pleasantly, and he felt her hand run down from his neck, down his chest, and over his waist. As their lips parted, just a fraction, her hands had rested on his leather belt. He had only just registered the dropping of his holsters from his shirt as well, and wondered why he hadn't heard them. Casting it aside, he heard her say for the third time, whispered, "Let me help you…"

His eyes closed slowly, confirming, and he felt her fingers unbuckle his belt, pulling it free slowly, almost teasingly, before unfastening his pants for him. His breathing quickened, his heart stepping up a beat in pacing, and he yearned for her… the teaser of her taste – even after the obvious ice cream she had consumed, something that made her so much more appetising all of a sudden – making his control teeter at the verge of breaking. They were so close to one another; he could feel her, smell her… even as she freed him of his pants. He'd pulled off his boots, barely moving, as she had worked on the belt, and his hands rose up her hips, even as his breathing audibly quickened.

He claimed her mouth in a kiss, and as his hands reached the bottom of her short top, they ran under, lifting it up and away. She lifted her arms, allowing him to pull it free, and it fell to the floor quietly, as his hands ran through her fiery, silken mane of hair. One of her hands teased at the side of his neck as they kissed passionately and hungrily, and he barely even registered his strategic moving her backwards, as her other hand ran down his torso again, toying at the line of his boxers.

His hands ran down her body, to her leather pants, and he subconsciously worked them free, before she lowered herself down to the bed behind her, as large as it was, and he loomed over her, breaking from the kiss, and eyeing her for a moment, before she offered him an almost pleading expression, asking breathlessly, "Are you okay to…"

He smiled in response, and lowered his head to her again, kissing her neck instead, softly but lingeringly, and heard her light groan as her hands ran over his bare torso and back. He shivered only slightly at her touch, still exhilarated even after almost a century as her lover.

Looking down at her again for a moment, his blonde hair hanging around his face, looming just inches over her, supported mostly by the arm that had not been dislocated at the shoulder, and the knee that hadn't been damaged, he studied her for a few, lingering seconds. She really was beautiful, and in so much more than the physical sense. Her fire, her strength, her passion…

Panting now, and feeling her breath through his bangs, he lowered to her, feeling her hands run around his neck and the back of his head as they kissed deeply again, growing in intensity, even as she groaned into him, and arched her back slightly against him.

As the early hours of the morning melted away, Exuro fought for focus in his mind… caught between his reality with Falx, and the haunting visions of the old, infuriating past as the human Tom Sawyer.

What is wrong with me…?