Disclaimer: Don't own beyblade…

Warnings: Yaoi, Lup/John…

Fire – OMG! I'm back! Sorry… Just thought I'd let you know I'm still alive… -sweatdrop-

Dreams

The outside of the castle hasn't changed much, not since you first saw it five years earlier, when you were at war with the owner's son. The McGregor's aren't ones for change and you can't say that you are yourself. It's taken years for you to accept what you've become.

You're welcomed in by the butler, and you can tell he thinks very little of your presence, but you ignore him and continue on. You walk through a grand entrance hall and several long corridors. The tree is what catches your attention first. He grins up at yo, no longer awed by its size and décor, before you make your way into the dining room. It's Christmas and you suppose you shouldn't be here; his father hates you with a passion. Much like you used to hate him.

His father is glaring at you, he's holding his granddaughter tightly, making sure she doesn't see you, chattering to her. She loves you as if you're her father. But you know she shouldn't do that, because it's not what her family expects from her and you don't want her to go through what he did. Not for you anyway.

Your eyes are drawn away from the pair, as he stands by your side, his hands cupping your rough cheeks as he pulls you down for a kiss. You hum with delight and you try to ignore the weight that's settled in your stomach as one of your calloused hands stroke his neck and chin.

At times, you don't feel like you deserve his kisses, because he's so much better than you. He's always been of a higher social class, but you're not bothered by that. No… No… His kisses feel stolen because you're both so different.

He's human, for one thing; there's no curse on him. You're the one with such strong urges you howl at the moon, the one who has random bouts of insomnia simply because her pull is too much for you. The moon used to be one of your favourite things a light while you camped out in the woods or slept in a paddock. Now you hate her presence every night. But you can't blame his father for putting such thoughts into your head, you've had them since you first kissed him.

You watch with a smirk as he takes the little girl in his arms and she reaches to tug at his hair, and she's quickly bawling when he pulls his red locks from her pudgy fingers. He's smiling though, who ever knew Johnathan McGregor would be such a loving father? You feel the usual butterflies at the tiny girl and, when you notice sis father's fuming, the sadistic glee you usually do when he brings her over to you, placing her in your arms with a smart-ass comment.

He notices his father's glare, but only frowns and glares back. He's told you many times how childish his father makes him feel sometimes, how inferior. You'd chuckled the first time he'd told you, but neither you nor he is one for being bossed around.

You're ignoring them now, too busy in lowering yourself and the bub in your arms to the floor without harming her. She gurgles happily as you release your hair from its usual ponytail, and shake your head slightly to let her play and suck on it.

You place her down on the ground when she starts to grow tired of the silver strands and chuckle when she crawls shakily back into your lap, grabbing at your nose and cheeks with plump, clumsy hands, and then your chin much to your own amusement. Again she gurgles and you can't help but smile back as she beams up at you, a few teeth now starting to show themselves.

The night passes quickly and before long the girl has to go to bed, and he's at your side again. His wife has gone to visit her family and you feel somewhat wrong to be standing by him like you are. It's her place, not yours. You'd lost him a long time ago.

But he kisses you again and is soon leading you into library, a place he wouldn't take a step into during his youth. You have to admit that you're not much of a book lover yourself. But your talk is quiet and lasts a while. You guess that he's made sure no one disturbs you, and you can't help but smirk and tease him as you realize this.

He flushes and glares and frowns and you can't help but chuckle. You used to take such things as a challenge, but their nothing more than a funny looks now. He huffs and doesn't talk to you for a while, his arms folded over his chest. But he's soon talking again and your voice is gruff when he asks how long you'll be staying for.

You won't be staying. Simply because you couldn't stand to see his wife return to him the next day, a kiss and hug his greeting. It's a façade you know he must put on, but it doesn't stop your jealously from swelling and making you want to squash her.

He makes his way over to you and you jump slightly as his thigh brushes your own, but you're quick to recover as you pull him close. Far closer than you know is allowed. But he doesn't argue, just wraps his arms around you, and you're thankful he doesn't speak because you're sure you can't.

So you kiss him, and hope he understands.

A few hours later both of you are curled up together. He's nearly asleep and though you know you should be heading back home, you stay where you are. You run your hands through his hair, now much shorter and neater than when he was a teenager, beyblading and part of a team.

You need to leave soon though and slowly, every few moments, you ease yourself from under him, dressing yourself quickly when you're free. You carefully place down the two gifts you could afford: one for his little girl, the other for him. They are all you can afford, but you hope they'll appreciate them just the same.

You kiss his cheek, a habit you never used to have, even when you lived with your wife and child. But you've changed a lot since you met him and you don't bother questioning yourself or whether the changes are good or bad anymore. They usually cause a headache.

You leave through the shadows, knowing that McGregor senior is likely to be waiting for you down in the entrance hall. He hates your relationship with his son, but will not speak to him about it; you're the one that corrupted him after all. You know his lecture by memory anyway.

You take your time climbing the small hill in front of the cottage you and the other Dark Bladers are renting and Sanguinex is waiting by the door a frown on his face. There is no doubt who you smell like, and you know you're in for a lecture in the morning. But you don't worry; just lay down in your bed and sleep, not a word exchanged yourself and your teammates.

When you were first cursed, your dreams used to be of the moon, and what you would do for her. But now your dreams seem to be full of him, and they're better than the real thing. He doesn't have a wife, he doesn't have a daughter that you care about as if she's your own. But you have him and his father can't take him away from you. You're able to pretend you don't have a family neither missing you or wanting you to return.

You hear the others arguing, but decide to ignore them, instead of fight with them. The side that Sanguinex was on usually won anyway. You sigh, and pull off your shirt, before settling down properly, drawing the blankets up and over your shoulders.

Your breathing slows, your eyes drift closed and you're snoring a few moments later. Nothing will wake you for a few hours now. But you don't mind, because what makes your dreams so good is how you can always return to them.

Fire: That had no point and a crappy ending… But I needed to get it out…

Review please, it's been such a long time since I posted up a beyblade fic…