Taste the Forbidden 3: Words of Warning
Author: Lucinda
rating: pg, pg 13
pairing: Joyce/Javier Vachon, contains some Joyce/Hank
sequel to Taste the Forbidden.
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from BtVS or Forever Knight.
Distribution: Twisting the Hellmouth, The Next Level, Paula. Anyone else must ask.
set before Season One begins. Joyce has just bought her house in Sunnydale.
Joyce sighed, looking at the array of boxes in the rooms of the house that she'd just purchased. Her divorce from Hank was final, and she'd decided that she had no further need to be in LA, especially considering Buffy. After her daughter had burned down the school gym... Hank hadn't wanted custody of her, and so, Joyce had to find a school district that would accept Buffy. She'd ended up all the way out here, a good three hours from LA, from everything that had made her life there. A fresh start.
Buffy would be with Hank for another two weeks while she was arranging everything, although it hadn't been set up like that. He'd wanted to take her on a vacation, something he'd called 'quality father-daughter time'. Joyce had let him, knowing that she would only cause trouble trying to keep them from staying in touch. So, she'd made the arrangements by herself. Hired movers by herself. Arranged utilities by herself. She'd been managing by herself a lot lately...
Her mind turned away from Hank and Buffy, away from her life of responsibilities to Javiar Vachon. The handsome spanish lover that she'd met in Seattle so many years ago. They'd stayed in touch this time, phone calls, the occasional letter... He'd been telling her that she sounded like she could use a vacation. Maybe he was right... Glancing outside at the darkness, she gave a small smile. He never went out in the daytime, perhaps she could call him?
Smiling, she pulled out her cell phone, dialing a number from a carefully saved scrap of paper. Vachon had moved, and no longer lived in Seattle as he had for the last fifteen years. He'd ended up in Toronto, with a new address and a new phone number. He'd invited her to come visit if she had the time. Maybe he'd been hoping for another interlude, maybe he was hoping for some sort of... commitment? But she didn't think he was the marrying sort. A vacation for about a week sounded good...
It didn't take long before her trip was planned, everything arranged and the tickets purchased. He'd insisted that she stay with him, that a hotel would just be an inconvenience for her. All she'd had to do was pack. Smiling, she looked at the pale golden dress she'd found in the back of her closet. It still fit, although she felt that she filled the bodice out a bit more than she had ten years ago. Would he remember it? With a smile, she left the dress out, planning to wear it for the flight. Even if he didn't remember, it made her feel a bit better that the dress still fit after so many years.
Her flight went smoothly, and she arrived in the Toronto airport, waiting impatiently for her luggage to emerge, hoping that it was here instead of Atlanta, or Houston, or in transit to Japan. He'd said that he wouldn't be able to pick her up, but he'd given a careful set of directions to get to his place. Considering her five o'clock arrival time, Joyce had a suspicion about why he wouldn't be able to meet her... The same suspicion that had flared at his lack of a heartbeat, at the fact that she hadn't once seen him consume any sort of food, from the way he'd bitten her in the heights of their passion.
But she didn't say the word. Carefully didn't say it, not even as a whisper, hardly even dared to allow herself to think the word. Surely there had to be more dangers than just the chance that he could get carried away in a moment of passion. Surely there were others like that... and what if they were not so charming, not so civilized? No, the word would remain unspoken. But that didn't mean that she was an idiot, or deliberately ignorant of her lover's peculiarities. She preferred to think that she was extending the courtesy of not commenting on a private matter.
Eventually, she arrived at his loft, luggage firmly in her possession, her dress only a little rumpled from the traveling. With a small pause to take a breath, gather her courage, and remind herself that the worst that could happen would be him not finding her attractive anymore, she made her way to the door, her knock a tiny bit hesitant against the solid wooden door. She wanted so desperately for his to feel like home, or at least like safety. She wouldn't have been so nervous if he still resided in Seattle, but he'd moved, and things had changed. She just wasn't quite certain how, or what the new rules were.
The door opened, the shadow of the building shielding it from the sunlight, and there he was. Slightly rumpled as if he'd just got out of bed, his dark hair falling like a tangled cloud around him. His eyes widened, and there was what might have been a quick flicker of amber in their chocolaty depths. "Joyce... You look wonderful. Come in, come in... how was your flight?"
With those words, any awkwardness that she'd felt melted away, leaving her delighting in his company, and feeling attractive, desirable... It was a heady feeling, and she smiled. "It was a long, dull flight, and the most exciting part was waiting to see if my luggage had made it with me."
He led her to a couch, holding her hand as if she were a great and wealthy lady, escorted by her faithful courtier. "And how are things in your life? You said the last time we talked that the divorce was final... Did you find a new home?"
She smiled as she settled onto the couch. "It is, and I have. It's not in LA anymore, I had... well, there was that problem with Buffy and finding a new school for her. I ended up in a smaller town, sort of charming looking place. It's called Sunnydale."
To all appearances, Javier Vachon began to choke and gasp, his face turning oddly paler. His expression was one of worry and fear. "You moved WHERE? Querida... you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into..."
"Javier... are you alright?" She was beside him, one hand on his back, the other cupped over his cheek.
He leaned into her hand a bit, his eyes closing for a moment. "It's not me that you should worry about. It's you, and your daughter. Sunnydale... it's not a charming little town. Unless you want to count the sort of charming that's found in Stephan King novels. The place is evil. Once, it had a more accurate name, 'La Boca Del Inferno' - the Mouth of Hell. I've never been there, but... some of the ones who have been said that the name was fitting. There are things out there, things far worse and more dangerous that I am... And they will go there."
"You aren't a danger to me, Javier. No matter what you want to call yourself, you aren't evil, and I'm not in danger from you." She slid her hand down his face, fingers trailing over his chest, knowing full well that his heart would not be beating.
He pulled her close, a firm hug that left her breathless and just the right side of squished. "You have no idea how much those words mean to me, Joyce. How rare your trust is..."
"So, what do I need to know to be safer there? I can't... I can't afford to try to get a different house, I can't afford to move again. And I need to worry about Buffy's future..." She felt tears well up in her eyes. She'd been trying to find a way to start over, to create a new life, a new start for herself and Buffy, a start away from Hank and the pain of his broken promises. Why did it have to be so hard?
"I can tell you some, but... I really don't know how to deal with everything that might go there, might be drawn by the evil and power of La Boca. But you must be careful... and if you need me, if I can help you, call me. For you, I would go to the Mouth of Hell." His voice was a reassurance, a warm comfort in her ear as his fingers ran through her hair.
"It will have to do." She smiled at him, feeling hope and worry fighting with the desire that he inspired. "And then, you can make me feel safe from the scary things out in the shadows."
"Querida... I promise to do my best to keep you safe." His lips met hers, gently. It was a kiss of reassurance, not just for tonight, but a promise for the future.
end Taste Forbidden 3: Words of Warning.
Author: Lucinda
rating: pg, pg 13
pairing: Joyce/Javier Vachon, contains some Joyce/Hank
sequel to Taste the Forbidden.
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from BtVS or Forever Knight.
Distribution: Twisting the Hellmouth, The Next Level, Paula. Anyone else must ask.
set before Season One begins. Joyce has just bought her house in Sunnydale.
Joyce sighed, looking at the array of boxes in the rooms of the house that she'd just purchased. Her divorce from Hank was final, and she'd decided that she had no further need to be in LA, especially considering Buffy. After her daughter had burned down the school gym... Hank hadn't wanted custody of her, and so, Joyce had to find a school district that would accept Buffy. She'd ended up all the way out here, a good three hours from LA, from everything that had made her life there. A fresh start.
Buffy would be with Hank for another two weeks while she was arranging everything, although it hadn't been set up like that. He'd wanted to take her on a vacation, something he'd called 'quality father-daughter time'. Joyce had let him, knowing that she would only cause trouble trying to keep them from staying in touch. So, she'd made the arrangements by herself. Hired movers by herself. Arranged utilities by herself. She'd been managing by herself a lot lately...
Her mind turned away from Hank and Buffy, away from her life of responsibilities to Javiar Vachon. The handsome spanish lover that she'd met in Seattle so many years ago. They'd stayed in touch this time, phone calls, the occasional letter... He'd been telling her that she sounded like she could use a vacation. Maybe he was right... Glancing outside at the darkness, she gave a small smile. He never went out in the daytime, perhaps she could call him?
Smiling, she pulled out her cell phone, dialing a number from a carefully saved scrap of paper. Vachon had moved, and no longer lived in Seattle as he had for the last fifteen years. He'd ended up in Toronto, with a new address and a new phone number. He'd invited her to come visit if she had the time. Maybe he'd been hoping for another interlude, maybe he was hoping for some sort of... commitment? But she didn't think he was the marrying sort. A vacation for about a week sounded good...
It didn't take long before her trip was planned, everything arranged and the tickets purchased. He'd insisted that she stay with him, that a hotel would just be an inconvenience for her. All she'd had to do was pack. Smiling, she looked at the pale golden dress she'd found in the back of her closet. It still fit, although she felt that she filled the bodice out a bit more than she had ten years ago. Would he remember it? With a smile, she left the dress out, planning to wear it for the flight. Even if he didn't remember, it made her feel a bit better that the dress still fit after so many years.
Her flight went smoothly, and she arrived in the Toronto airport, waiting impatiently for her luggage to emerge, hoping that it was here instead of Atlanta, or Houston, or in transit to Japan. He'd said that he wouldn't be able to pick her up, but he'd given a careful set of directions to get to his place. Considering her five o'clock arrival time, Joyce had a suspicion about why he wouldn't be able to meet her... The same suspicion that had flared at his lack of a heartbeat, at the fact that she hadn't once seen him consume any sort of food, from the way he'd bitten her in the heights of their passion.
But she didn't say the word. Carefully didn't say it, not even as a whisper, hardly even dared to allow herself to think the word. Surely there had to be more dangers than just the chance that he could get carried away in a moment of passion. Surely there were others like that... and what if they were not so charming, not so civilized? No, the word would remain unspoken. But that didn't mean that she was an idiot, or deliberately ignorant of her lover's peculiarities. She preferred to think that she was extending the courtesy of not commenting on a private matter.
Eventually, she arrived at his loft, luggage firmly in her possession, her dress only a little rumpled from the traveling. With a small pause to take a breath, gather her courage, and remind herself that the worst that could happen would be him not finding her attractive anymore, she made her way to the door, her knock a tiny bit hesitant against the solid wooden door. She wanted so desperately for his to feel like home, or at least like safety. She wouldn't have been so nervous if he still resided in Seattle, but he'd moved, and things had changed. She just wasn't quite certain how, or what the new rules were.
The door opened, the shadow of the building shielding it from the sunlight, and there he was. Slightly rumpled as if he'd just got out of bed, his dark hair falling like a tangled cloud around him. His eyes widened, and there was what might have been a quick flicker of amber in their chocolaty depths. "Joyce... You look wonderful. Come in, come in... how was your flight?"
With those words, any awkwardness that she'd felt melted away, leaving her delighting in his company, and feeling attractive, desirable... It was a heady feeling, and she smiled. "It was a long, dull flight, and the most exciting part was waiting to see if my luggage had made it with me."
He led her to a couch, holding her hand as if she were a great and wealthy lady, escorted by her faithful courtier. "And how are things in your life? You said the last time we talked that the divorce was final... Did you find a new home?"
She smiled as she settled onto the couch. "It is, and I have. It's not in LA anymore, I had... well, there was that problem with Buffy and finding a new school for her. I ended up in a smaller town, sort of charming looking place. It's called Sunnydale."
To all appearances, Javier Vachon began to choke and gasp, his face turning oddly paler. His expression was one of worry and fear. "You moved WHERE? Querida... you have no idea what you've gotten yourself into..."
"Javier... are you alright?" She was beside him, one hand on his back, the other cupped over his cheek.
He leaned into her hand a bit, his eyes closing for a moment. "It's not me that you should worry about. It's you, and your daughter. Sunnydale... it's not a charming little town. Unless you want to count the sort of charming that's found in Stephan King novels. The place is evil. Once, it had a more accurate name, 'La Boca Del Inferno' - the Mouth of Hell. I've never been there, but... some of the ones who have been said that the name was fitting. There are things out there, things far worse and more dangerous that I am... And they will go there."
"You aren't a danger to me, Javier. No matter what you want to call yourself, you aren't evil, and I'm not in danger from you." She slid her hand down his face, fingers trailing over his chest, knowing full well that his heart would not be beating.
He pulled her close, a firm hug that left her breathless and just the right side of squished. "You have no idea how much those words mean to me, Joyce. How rare your trust is..."
"So, what do I need to know to be safer there? I can't... I can't afford to try to get a different house, I can't afford to move again. And I need to worry about Buffy's future..." She felt tears well up in her eyes. She'd been trying to find a way to start over, to create a new life, a new start for herself and Buffy, a start away from Hank and the pain of his broken promises. Why did it have to be so hard?
"I can tell you some, but... I really don't know how to deal with everything that might go there, might be drawn by the evil and power of La Boca. But you must be careful... and if you need me, if I can help you, call me. For you, I would go to the Mouth of Hell." His voice was a reassurance, a warm comfort in her ear as his fingers ran through her hair.
"It will have to do." She smiled at him, feeling hope and worry fighting with the desire that he inspired. "And then, you can make me feel safe from the scary things out in the shadows."
"Querida... I promise to do my best to keep you safe." His lips met hers, gently. It was a kiss of reassurance, not just for tonight, but a promise for the future.
end Taste Forbidden 3: Words of Warning.