A/N: This was written for the 12 Labours of Hercules challenge. 2. AF/OC relationship fic
Pairing: Artemis/Original Character (I know what you're thinking. "Augh, it's a Sue! Look away!" But it's not a Sue, so read on.
Note: I'm not sure about the rating. I'm rating it T because there are sexual implications but nothing in detail. Too low or too high?
Disclaimer: Artemis Fowl is copyrighted to Eoin Colfer and all related publishing companies.
Passion Play
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Hot...
Hot...
"Tell me."
When it began it was only a job. Crude and below the standards of the business world, but it was effective and the clients desperate. Said employers headed a shady organization that dealt in equally dubious affairs, but the details were of little importance. What mattered was the objective and soon that, too, petered into insignificance.
The target was an Irish businessman. Young, in his twenties. Dangerous, but not the type of dangerous that scars and beats flesh through unpredictable rages. He was the type of man who cuts deep, cool and calculating, into the skin and silently, secretly, lovingly plants a throbbing parasite into the heart that undoes the body and mind slowly but surely from within.
Hot...
The objective was infiltration and information retrieval. In and out. It was simple, yet surprisingly delicate; the balance between lust and pain so precarious that the line between the two often blurred, forming a tantalizing mixture of both. It was imperative not to confuse this with love.
Such a mistake never crossed the mind of the woman for years of experience ensured her success. A woman must have no attachments. No regrets. She was beautiful, a requirement in her profession. He was also beautiful, something she had not expected but made no difference to her. She knew that beauty was nothing but a meaningless tool meant to deceive those foolish enough to cherish it—and he knew as well. He did not trust her, this was apparent, but for whatever reason—loneliness, desperation, curiosity, or perhaps something more depraved—he allowed her to get close. Cautious, she slipped into his open defenses and found that his true self lay within layers upon layers of lies. But she was determined and so she set about peeling back each mask one at a time while the man, amused, sat back and let her.
She did not know that he was removing her masks as well.
And with her defenses down, she made the mistake.
Hot...
In the dark, their bodies entwined in an intimate dance of lust and deceit. Flesh crashed upon welcoming flesh. One trying to break through the walls and breach the soul. The other seeking long-awaited release. Her vision became foggy with the heat of passion and she unwittingly fell prey to the man's intentions. His eyes, bright with lust and chillingly cold victory, trapped her before she could realize it and the noose around her neck tightened.
When he pulled, she followed. He asked who sent her. She replied in a grateful moan.
When he pushed, she could not resist. He demanded from her details. She whispered them into his ear.
When he gave her the choice, she chose him.
He told her to betray her clients.
He told her to work for him.
Hot...
She did.
Still, she did not realize her mistake.
He was cold, but deliciously so. To the world he was unfeeling, emotionless—but she could see through his deception. When she touched his skin it was ice, but she felt the heat and the pain from within, felt it struggling to be freed from his very core. The suppressed rawness spread from her fingertips to shake her entire body—and it excited her. She longed to toss away the final mask, to surrender herself wholly to that caged emotion at last. She thought that what she would find there was love.
Hot!
But he never let her get that far.
She found that he was cold. He loved her, but he rejected her all at once. He was ice, but he was fire as well. She detested him. She loved him. She wished him dead, yet longed to feel his breath against her. Unwelcome emotion consumed her and she did not know whether to welcome or to scorn it.
But night was different. At night he was different. In the dark, she was freed of her emotions and lived only for pleasure, as did he. She knew him at night, he had no masks then. He was still cold, but the chill felt so intense that it could have been flame. She had once been fooled into thinking that it was. Once.
"Tell me why..."
The air smoldered around them and their skin burned wonderfully from the close contact.
"Why did you stay?"
The woman looked at the man above her and saw him through half-lidded eyes. His eyes mirrored her look. Cloudy and guarded.
She said nothing and kissed his throat. It was warm. Soft. She smirked against his skin.
The man let her do this as if it was routine. He fingered her hair thoughtfully.
"You know already."
It wasn't a question. His words were hard and unfeeling. They did not belong here, not now. Still she smirked.
"I know."
His lips curled up this time and he brought them down to her heated shoulder. She shivered.
"I don't love you."
She almost laughed at this, not bitterly but not out of happiness. There were no such things here.
"I know."
Something unusual passed over his eyes, but she did not see it. Slowly, deliberately he brought his lips to hers.
Here he was gentle. He was not genuine, but he was still intense. His taste was addictive.
It was enough.
She had made a mistake.
I know.
And she had no regrets.