Favor
Verb: (often used in polite requests) give someone (something that they want).
Author's Notes: Alright, howdy everyone. Not much to say here. Ever since I moved all the potential spoilers to the end of the chapter, my Author's Notes feel a little lonely. I thought about making a joke about canceling BtOG in favor of a new Corruption of Champion edition of Eroge Protagonist, but thought that was cruel so didn't. Still working on the next chapter, but it's unexpectedly hard to recapture my original writing mindset. I've been writing, and then looking back and realizing that whatever I just put has to much new information or breaks the original characterization of whomever I'm writing. Still, I've just been throwing it all at the canvas with the determination of going back and getting it in the edits. I still have the original plot in mind, so it shouldn't be too hard to get there.
Also, I may end up seriously doing that COC edition of EP. Maybe something like Shirou being feminized by accident right when he gets there, and then the joke is that he can never manage to get his hand on any of the male corruption items, despite literally everyone else having them. Also, unconsciously dominating every character that you could potentially have a submissive bad end to and accidentally developing a devoted reverse harem without even realizing it.
Could be good for a Lol.
Now, let's proceed as we watch... Lara have a drunk battle of wits with Mouse?
Actual Author's Note: Sorry, had to repost this as I forgot to Italisize the Lore Check at the end. Re-posted immediately
Time: Post Dead Beat
"Are you sure you should be out?" was the first thing Lara said when Harry collapsed in the seat in front of her. "Halloween was two weeks ago. It's time to remove the mummy costume."
"Har. Har de. Har." Harry spoke dryly. He also sounded exhausted.
"And now, without humor, I repeat: are you sure you should be out?" Lara asked, a note of genuine concern showing in her voice. "Harry, you look like shit."
"I want to say something like it's been a long week," he admitted. He winced, and shifted in his seat. "But that would be wrong. It was a long three days, and it's going to probably be several long weeks before I get over it."
There were times that Lara wished that wizards weren't so technologically impaired. Not often. Most of the time when dealing with wizards their inability to use modern technology was a great boon.
But there were times she wished HER wizard had a decent cell phone that he could use to contact her when things became as…
Well, this.
Information was unreliable at the moment. With the Red Courts massive, suicidal, ill advised, and unsanctioned assault on the White Council, violating every rule of the Old World and violating multiple borders and principles, her office had been a jumbled mess the last few days. The naked assault on Chicago proper, including the damage to electronic infrastructure, was affecting even the Chateau (which was far enough away from the city proper AND held protection against magical assault) and had left the city reeling. She still hadn't been able to accurately determine everything that had occurred on the days leading up to Halloween.
On a side note, she had already donated a sufficient amount to the reconstruction to earn her the ear of the Governor. She had plans for how to proceed from there.
"And at no point during this, did you consider calling me?" she asked slowly. Thomas was involved, after all.
"I had to contact the White Council for this one," he shook his head. She sat up, concerned, and he raised his hand. "HAD to, not chose to. I kept Thomas out of it."
"Reports about what happened have been… inadequate," she ventured cautiously. His face tightened. She continued slowly. "Reports about zombies and ghosts?"
"Necromancers," he spoke in a clipped tone. "I don't want to talk about it."
"And about a certain wizard from Chicago wearing a warden's cloak…"
"I though the draft was cancelled. I don't want to talk about it."
"Who was seen riding a dinosaur?"
"Okay, that was cool," he admitted, a sheepish grin managing to slip out for a second.
"It's usually women who tend to enjoy something big and powerful between their legs," she pointed out innocently.
She saw him try to hold it back, but his laugh finally escaped.
"Alright, I'll give you that one," he sighed, raising his cup to acknowledge the point. She graciously accepted her victory.
"Everything that happened," she began, "is it that you can't, or won't talk about it?"
The question had been previously agreed as safe for when they were declaring a topic untouchable for faction reasons.
"Both," Harry admitted. His mounting good humor dimmed again. "This one was pretty terrible. A bunch of old enemies, and whole gaggle of new ones. And these guys weren't villains of the week. I feel like I just finished a boss rush, and I was under leveled and underequipped. I have it on very good authority that I SHOULD have died."
"And whose authority would you trust for a statement like that?" Lara tried to joke, and he just shook his head.
"A Valkyrie."
Her jaw instantly tightened. A Chooser of the Slain WAS a very good authority on those matters.
Her Hunger peaked briefly, angrily, though it seemed torn between taking the man in front of her preemptively and tracking down whatever it was that had nearly claimed his life before it could.
Still, even his non-answers were as good as confirmation to some of the conflicting reports they had received. She would make a note when she got back to the Chateau to update their status reports so they could filter through the remaining more accurately.
"Is there anything you do want to talk about?" Lara prompted. With so many landmines in the field right now, it was probably best to let Ser Knight take the lead.
This wasn't about information, after all. She had other sources for that.
"Right now I want to talk about literally anything that isn't related to the supernatural," he declared. Lara pursed her lips slightly.
"Have you seen the new series that just came out? I believe it's called 'Grey's Anatomy'. So far it's been quite the little drama," she offered dryly.
"Find me a TV that can put up with me for more than ten minutes, and a show that isn't meant for middle-aged house wives seeking emotional fulfilment, and we can pursue that train of thought," he told her just as dryly.
"Hmmm," she nodded agreeably. "I could have a decent TV shipped over, if you like. Oh, there has been an interesting development professionally. My lawyers have managed to fully gain the rights to all my old films. We're debating whether we want to have a limited DVD release as a collector's item. It doesn't mesh as well with my current career though. If you'd like, I could have those included as a test run of product viability?"
In the past, that would have set Ser Knight to blushing, but the material was just too tame these days.
"The Criterion Collection of Porn? If I get your autograph on them and then store them in a safe deposit box, do you think they'll be worth money some day? Like those old He-man figures? My bank account could use some padding."
"Perhaps," she capitulated. "However, that usually takes a few decades, and has an extremely specialized target audience. As a long term investment it has potential, but immediate gains would be lacking."
"Damn," he muttered. "Best just ignore the whole thing then."
*Scene Break*
"So far Riley has shown to have an innovative and efficient vision for the company," Lara found herself explaining the intricacies of establishing and arranging your own military force to a bemused wizard. The conversation that night had been deliberately light, avoiding the heavy events of the last few days. Oddly enough, the discussion of the establishment of her shiny new army was an acceptable topic, as long as she didn't elaborate on the specifics of her house's defenses.
"So you just hire them straight up?" Harry asked, head cocked in bemused curiosity. "How do you list them on your payroll? Mercenary? Thug? Hired Killer?"
"Actually, direct hiring is a legal liability," she corrected him, sitting back with her coffee. "Anyone they harm in the defense of my property or people would have the potential of a civil lawsuit. Rather, it's best to establish a shell security company and payroll that specifically."
"So if they shoot someone, than that person can sue them?" Harry asked. "Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not condoning the gunning of random civilians, but your troops are defensive, aren't they? Wouldn't that mean that anyone they shot that was, you know, offensiving you could get you sued?"
"Case law is clear in this point," she sighed, also annoyed at hypocrisy of being legally attacked for physically defending themselves against a physically initiating offender. "Use of excessive force in defense is seen as an established liability in civil suits."
"Well, I'm really glad most of my enemies aren't mortals," he admitted, and Lara nodded. If you looked up 'excessive force in defense' in a legal text, Harry's picture would probably appear. "So you made the security company you're hiring yourself? What will you do if someone else hires them to use against you?"
"The company remains privately held, with a very limited number of directors," she explained, smiling slightly. "As such, per direction of the shareholders, the contracts that the company can take are extremely limited. Fortunately, those contracts are generous as well. And based on the company's profit, the dividends paid are extremely concentrated…"
"Wait," he began slowly, eying her suspiciously. "If I were to hazard a guess, when you say 'limited', you're talking about yourself, aren't you?" She nodded smugly. "So if I understand this, you decide how much you pay the company out of the Court's funds, you control how much the company spends, and you also get anything that they don't spend back to you personally?"
"Mmmhmm," she purred her acknowledgment. Harry actually looked mildly impressed.
"So you're basically embezzling from your own Court? Why would…" he paused, eyes narrowing as he thought about it. "You're using it to find anyone snooping you, to see who's plotting against you? Providing an easy target as bait?"
"Mmmhmm," she nodded, smugly.
He eyed her for a moment, then shook his head. "Too simple. What's the catch?"
Lara's smile widened as he immediately saw through her scheme. Really, as it stood it was just too basic. She felt a moment of actual arousal at his insight.
She loved it when he showed his cunning.
"The catch is that dividends from that venture are being funneled into an insurance company that specializes in extremely limited clientele. The nature of their coverage is 'acts of god' incidents outside the normal purview of other insurance companies. Things like sudden fires, unexplained explosive damage, and other typically unattributable damages."
"Fire, force, unexplained…" he repeated. His eyes widened. "Are you selling insurance against supernatural events?!"
"Mmmhmm."
"Wait," he began, rubbing his forehead. "Not to toot my own horn, but I know for a fact that I am one of the biggest contributors of supernatural damage to the city. I mean, it's not my fault that so many buildings are flammable, but still…. And not many people know about the supernatural. I think the biggest one whose trying to take action against it is actually Marcone…"
He stared at her. "Are you selling insurance against me to the mob?"
"Mmmhmm!"
"And anyone who does find out that you're embezzling from the Court will track the funds down and find that it's involved with things I've damaged, implying that if they tried to do anything about it, they might end up needing that insurance themselves?" He continued.
"Mmmhmm." This one came out sensual, and she shifted slightly, that previous arousal growing at how quickly he was putting this together.
He stared at her. Finally, he simply put down his cup and began to clap.
"Thank you," she gave a little bow, pleased at his acknowledgment of her scheme.
"Insurance fraud, embezzlement, collusion, blackmail, threats," he listed, shaking his head in awe. "I mean, this has to be illegal in a dozen ways, but it's still impressive."
"My lawyers and accountants assure me we would survive any audits or scrutiny," she denied. "Though, if you're interested, my insurance company would not be adverse to a… private offering of shares. To a very limited, very specific class of investor. Though convincing the board to do so would require… heated negotiation."
"And now you're offering to let me get a share of any of the damage I cause," he stared at her. He quickly shook his head, denying the offer. Then he paused. His head fell to his hands, conflicted.
"I mean, the thought of burning down that scumbag Marcone's property, and then getting paid for it…"
"Hmmm," she leaned forward, her décolleté bordering on the edge of modesty. "Very heated negotiations. I'm sure that when they came to a head, the climax would be explosive. Though both sides will no doubt be exhausted, I'm sure that they'll be equally satisfied with the culmination…"
"I'm not even sure what you're implying right now," he sighed. "I mean, there are several different acts that fit the innuendo."
"Pick your favorite three, and we can start from there."
"Above the belt, Lara," Harry laughed despite himself.
Lara noted with satisfaction that he didn't actually say no. She let a lull in the conversation build, content with the offer as it was. Harry at least seemed to have been distracted from his thoughts, which was half the point of it anyway.
It didn't last though. She noted as his expression went back to the pensive. Whatever he was thinking of, it continued to bother him, despite her attempts at distracting him.
She was preparing to ask, when he beat her to it with a very surprising question.
"Lara, if you were to seduce me, how would you do it?"
It was so unexpected, that she found herself at a loss for words.
"Harry, if you haven't noticed all the effort I've put in so far, I am going to be annoyed," she finally responded, lightheartedly. He simply shook his head at her attempt at humor.
"Lara, we both know if you were to really try you'd already have me," he said bluntly. "And I appreciate you not pressing. But if you were, how would you do that?"
She froze at the surety in his voice. It was a simple professional acknowledgment, one pro to another, at the capabilities of the other party. All it meant was that Harry knew and recognized her capabilities.
Once that fact set in, her previous arousal grew, nearly uncontrollably. Her Hunger demanded that she show him how right his words were. Her nipples were painful beneath her tasteful brassiere and expensive white suit.
Despite the vast difference in their nature, Harry respected her.
She had to bite her lip. She knew her eyes were silver at that moment. It took her several minutes, but she managed to avoid embarrassing herself with another public loss of control.
"Why do you ask?" she finally managed to get out. "Has another of my Court approached you?"
"Not yours," he answered. He had looked away from her obvious indisposition politely, giving her the time she needed to control herself, and she appreciated that. If she had intended it, she would have preferred he watched, but there was nothing as embarrassing to her as loss of control. "One of the big bads this time… they made an offer. One they were very serious about. Normally I can just brush those off, but this one…"
He shuddered briefly, and Lara realized how serious this situation was.
Her rage hit her faster than even the earlier arousal had. A threat.
A Poacher.
"If you tell me who it is, perhaps I can take care of this," she said slowly, unable to keep a growl of territorial anger from her voice. Still looking away, Harry simply shook his head.
"Not this one, you can't."
She wanted to refute his claim, but if he was making it then he must be serious.
She took several more moments to regain her control. When finally she spoke, her tone was soft and serious.
"Ser Knight, I am already seducing you. You simply don't know it."
He opened his mouth, probably to make a joke, when he realized she was genuine. He closed his mouth and studied her for a moment.
"How?"
"Do you know what you are, good Ser Knight?" she asked him quietly, a small smile on her face. "You are defiance. You are the words 'never again'. When you see an injustice in front of you, you cannot not move to stop it. It's deeper in you then your bones, deeper than your magic.
"And when you do, things notice. The things you foil remember. The things that are watching plot. The things that succeeded attempt again. Over the years, so many have become focused on you.
"And you will stop them. They will try, and you will cast them down.
"And every time you do, the cost will grow. You will pay the price to do so, no matter what it is."
Slowly, her hand found his maimed, gloved one. She interlocked her fingers in it, meeting his eyes as she did so. He swallowed.
"And it will change you. Slowly, but surely. You will grow more dangerous, more terrible. And the things that oppose you will try harder, and make you more dangerous, and more terrible for it. Those that stand beside you will see that. They will understand, at first. But soon they will begin to doubt. They will grow quiet, where once they greeted you. They will whisper their fears about you behind your back, but you will hear it.
"Someday, my wizard, you will be alone.
"And when that day comes, I will be waiting for you."
Her other hand came up, stroking his cheek. The stubble was rough, his skin hard from long hours of sun and work. She delighted in its feel. She wondered how it would feel against her breasts, her thighs…
"If someone demands of you, you will deny them, so I will never demand. If someone compels you, you resist them, so I will never compel. I will only offer, patient, without any stipulations or requests.
"There will come a day, when all you desire is surcease, respite, quiet without compulsion. And I will give it to you. There will be nothing but you, and I, and the passion between us, the release of the flesh. I will not feed on you, I will not enthrall you. I will welcome you, as an equal. As a friend. As a lover.
"And on that day, you will be mine."
She imagined it, and her arousal returned. There was no getting rid of it this time, so she embraced it.
In another world, in another life time, she might have gloated when she told him this. Her tone would have been victorious, her stance confident, and she would have thrown it into his face as a challenge.
But that was another world, another life, one that she had not lived.
Instead, she mourned it. When that day came, her friend would be broken, and in pain. She did not want that, wanted to stop it, to fight the world away from him, to bring him into her arms and make sure it never would happen.
But she couldn't. Harry would never let her.
So she waited. And when the time came, she would be there for him. And from then on, he would be there for her.
She knew it would happen, but right here, in this moment, clasping her wizard, she wanted him painfully. She could feel the beat of his heart where her palm rested against the side of his throat. She could hear the raggedness of his breath, and she knew that he wanted her as well.
Even though she had told him how she would win him, in that moment, she didn't want to wait. She didn't want to let her wizard fall so far. She wanted to claim him, and together they would make her prophecy never come to be.
"Harry, what do you want from me?" She would not demand. She would not take. She would only give.
That was how she would have him.
He took a steadying breath, and she gasped slightly as his good hand came up, cupping her face like she did his. She almost mewled as she leaned into it.
"From you, nothing," he whispered. Her eyes dilated in shock, but he continued even as she reeled from his apparent dismissal. His hand held hers, preventing her from pulling away. "Everyone wants something from you, Lara Raith. Your court, your employees, the rest of the supernatural world. They all demand from you your power, your money, your body.
"Everyone wants something, and you fight them for it, every inch of the way. Instead of them taking something from you, you beat them and take from them instead. You don't always win, but even when you lose, you make them pay a price for it.
"You're a fighter, a survivor. You're strong. You won't ever let the world win. You'll make them abide by your rules, not you by theirs.
"So I'll never take your money; I don't need it. And I don't want your power; I have my own. It would be a lie to say I don't want your body, but it's not a requirement; I don't need it.
"If that's what the rest of the world is like, then I'll make myself different from the world."
Lara reeled. It had been centuries… no. No one had ever challenged her like this! The conflict within her was chaotic, a war between her reason and her Hunger, and she couldn't even tell which part of her was on which side of the battle lines. Her reason demanded that she cast aside her own resolve to wait and take him now, while her Hunger longed to take his challenge, to force him to come to her in contradiction to his own resolve.
He had countered her.
It was so perfect, she wanted to laugh. Or cry. Or scream.
She would have him, but only when the world had wounded him so fiercely that he needed her. But he would not come to her, specifically to show that he had not been broken, that he would not ever use her selfishly.
Both had resolved to never initiate, solely to show the sincerity of their resolve.
This was the battle between them: a madness of denial, each rejecting what they want in order to claim what they want.
It was ecstasy, it was agony.
She lost track of all time as she tried to plot, to understand, to comprehend…
"Get a room," an angry voice finally broke her out of her thoughts, and she turned, confused, at the barista who had slammed two cups of coffee on the table between her and her Knight hard enough for the noise to ring through the café and slop coffee onto the table.
"What?" Harry strangled out, and she was at least pleased that he seemed as confused as she.
"The sexual tension between the two of you is thick enough to physically block the other customers from entering," the barista snapped. "Get a goddamn room already."
Lara hazily took in the room, and realized that they were the center of attention of every other patron. All of them were watching Harry and her. Most of them were panting, or otherwise visibly aroused, and she realized that she had unleashed her allure subconsciously. She had seen rooms like this, and it was one dropped silverware away from breaking out into an orgy, in her professional clinical opinion.
She and Harry had drawn close enough together that she could feel his breath on her lips, just shy of claiming them.
Oh, she appeared to have climaxed at some point, judging from the feel of her panties on her thighs.
Judging from the expression on Harry's face, he appeared to have as well.
Good. At least she wasn't the only one humiliated by this.
*Scene Break*
"Infuriating," she grated out, glaring at Harry as he slipped back into his seat, looking uncomfortable. "Maddening. Unforgiveable."
"Sorry about that," he mumbled. It did nothing to relent the glare she was giving the wizard.
"Detestable. Despicable. Repellant," she continued to name her feelings for what just happened.
She was Lara Goddamn Raith. She did not do things like this in public unless she chose to! How dare he make her lose control again!
She would punish him. How? How best to punish him for this?
She had already excused herself to the restroom, and frankly, the state of her undergarment was too uncomfortable to continue in. She had simply removed her panties and thrown them away. It didn't fix everything, but it was more comfortable than with them on. She suspected that when she got back and Harry had taken his turn to clean up he had just done the same thing.
"How dare you push such a topic," she continued to fume. "Why would you think that this conversation should be had in a public place. You are to blame for this. I will hold you responsible."
"Yes, your majesty," he meekly accepted her wrath. She narrowed her eyes, trying to judge if he properly understood how angry she was, then nodded sharply as she judged genuine contrition in his manners.
"Did you get what you needed from this… this travesty?" she demanded.
She knew he had brought this whole thing up so he could plot how to prevent whatever this other poacher was from making good on their machinations. If this hadn't been enough to prepare him, than it meant absolutely nothing useful had come from this mess, and she would have to punish him harder somehow.
"Yeah," he sighed, nodding. "I think I did."
"Well," she continued, mercilessly. "I know that wasn't the only thing bothering you. Out with it."
He blinked, glancing at her in surprise. She showed no leniency. She knew him well enough to know when there was still more on his mind.
She was getting all this done with, going home, having a shower, and then exerting dominance on whatever unlucky soul got in her way.
"Murphy missed everything that happened, last week," Harry finally began.
"So?"
"She was in Hawaii."
"Why do I care?"
"With another man."
She paused. Then she determined she was still upset.
"And had you bothered to tell her already?"
"I did."
"Her response?"
"I didn't want to be casual. She didn't want to be serious."
She nodded sharply. Good, at least this time he had taken the initiative.
"Want to get drunk?"
"Hell's bells, yes."
"You're paying."
"Understood, your majesty."
That would make an adequate punishment. Her getting wasted enough to forget this whole thing just happened would certainly cost him a pretty penny.
*Scene Break*
Hours later, she was still peeved. She had mostly forgiven Harry, as Mac's beer was adequate tribute. But she still didn't feel like letting him know she had, so continued to glare at him.
Mac had taken their intrusion with a raised eyebrow, a rolled eye, and a nod to a private table. It wasn't the second time they had shown up like this. Nor the third, or even the fifth.
They had a semi-private booth that Mac kept ready for them, just so the rest of the mortal patrons wouldn't have to get too close to the succubus in their midst. It wasn't strictly necessary, as the bar was accorded neutral territory, but it helped keep the other patrons relaxed.
She glared at the wizard. He was incoherent at this point, and she nodded in victory. She had insisted he match her drink for drink as punishment, and she processed alcohol a lot more efficiently than he did.
Of course her victory at drinking him under the table had resulted in her having to physically carry him out of the bar to her chauffeur. A process which was awkward due to him being six feet nine, close to two hundred pounds, and absolutely limp from the drink.
Again! Somehow he always managed to spoil her victory!
When they had arrived at his home, she had judged him to be too inebriated to let down his wards, so she had carried him to the door of his flat and unceremoniously pounded on it with her foot. She was too busy supporting Harry, one arm holding his over her shoulder and the other around his waist to keep him from falling.
"Thomas," she said loudly. "Come take this wizard before I leave him on the doorstep."
"Lara?" a startled voice came from the inside, and she tapped her foot in impatience until the door opened. "What are you… Is that Harry?" Thomas blinked at her, looking utterly lost. "Are you two drunk?" His nose wrinkled. "Drunk, and smelling of sex, shame, and rage?"
"Yes," she told him flatly. "Now take this wizard before I drop him on the floor."
"Alright, alright," he instantly capitulated, holding his arms up in surrender. She sniffed and nodded. There. Dominance. Now just a few more, and she might feel better.
Awkwardly, he took his brother from her, but even as he did, she hissed. Harry's good hand had dragged against the nape of her neck, and she found herself wincing as it burned her.
Damnit! He would not get the final victory!
Even as she tried to find some way to beat him at something immediately, made hard due to the fact that Harry was effectively a non-combatant at the moment and thus incapable of giving her a challenge, Thomas eyes widened briefly.
"Hey sis," he began. "You look a little… disheveled. Why don't you come in for a bit? I can get you a change of clothes, maybe a bandage for your neck, and a cup of coffee to sober up a bit…"
Yes! Stealing his clothes! That would turn the tables on that infuriating, no good wizard.
"I accept," she instantly declared.
*Scene Break*
It was a difficult victory, seeing as the sheer size difference between Harry and her made stealing most of his clothes a pyrrhic victory, but she found one of his sweat pants and a shirt she saw him wear multiple times, and thus was most likely a favorite.
She stole it spitefully, and just as spitefully cut the sweat pants down to a size which was reasonable for her.
Take that!
Thomas was good to his word, having some coffee ready, and she sipped it, wincing occasionally as he fixed a bandage to the burn on her neck. She was starting to feel a little bit human (metaphorically speaking), at this point.
Though that immense beast Harry called a pet was watching her. The tiny puppy she had met long ago had grown into a veritable mountain, and still had more growth in it.
It had come in to the kitchen, claiming a corner and laying down with a huff.
She could swear, it was judging her.
She glared back. She was guest in this house. She would act as such. Let it try to judge her for that.
Maybe she had more to drink than she had thought, because she could have sworn it brought one of its paws up to its eyes, then pointed it at her in the 'I'm watching you' move, before it put it back down.
"So," Thomas began carefully. "I see the night was eventful. Anything you want to talk about?"
"No," she declared. "Because nothing happened today. Absolutely nothing."
"I see." He probably didn't, but it looked like he knew better than to say otherwise. She nodded again. Dominance.
"Well, I have to say, that nothing must have been quite eventful," he began. And she narrowed her eyes. Perhaps he needed more dominance? Well, she could provide that. He held his arm up immediate surrender. "I was just wondering why you would try to feed on him like that, right at the end. I mean, judging from the smell I thought maybe you had finally gotten your hooks in him, but then you go and burn yourself, so he still has his protection. I mean, were you really just that drunk?"
"It was not my intention to feed," she muttered, rubbing her neck. "The clumsy oaf just happened to brush me, is all."
"And you tried to feed on him?" he pressed, giving her a careful look. "Like, automatically?"
"Yes, I just said that," she reminded him. She didn't like the look he was giving her. It seemed judgmental. Like the dogs.
"Just making sure," Thomas answered, very slowly. He looked like he was trying to decide how best to disarm a bomb. "I mean, we don't feed automatically. We have to choose to. Unless it's one of us that can't stop themselves from feeding on everyone, like Madeline…"
"Are you comparing me with that embarrassment…" she began, realizing that maybe her anger wasn't quite as satisfied as she thought. Thomas WAS half Harry, after all…
"Or like me, with Justine," Thomas hurriedly added. He was watching her closely. Very closely.
Close enough to almost make her miss the implication.
"No," she snapped immediately. Her anger had suddenly gone cold. "No. You're mistaken. That's impossible."
"Of course it is," he immediately agreed, soothingly.
"There's absolutely no way," she emphasized. The cold became tinged with dread.
"Certainly." Thomas assured her immediately. That look in his eyes. He was judging her even more than that dog!
She stood abruptly. Suddenly, her intoxication was less enjoyable and more a detriment.
"I'm leaving," she declared. "Right now."
"Of course," he stood up, moving to open the door for her. His expression was completely neutral.
"Good bye," she told him. "Tell Harry he's never getting these clothes back."
"Good bye, sis."
*Scene Break*
Lara had finished her shower. She had redressed in the purloined clothes, her body moving on automatic rather than spite.
'Like me, with Justine.'
That was what Thomas had said.
Thomas and Justine were an unusual case. He had fed on her for years. More than that, they had cared for each other, their emotions bonding on a sympathetic level. Over time, Thomas' Hunger had changed. It had grown possessive.
After all. They loved each other. And that Hunger was part of Thomas. It loved her as well. But its love was different.
It was irrefutable, after all. Their last encounter had laid a protection on Justine. But protection only kept one from feeding, not from touching, not from laying with.
If they were to be together, than all Thomas had to do was not feed.
But that was impossible. His Hunger had grown too possessive. It's need for Justine was unstoppable. Even though he knew he shouldn't, he couldn't stop himself from trying to claim his love.
The urge to feed on Justine was automatic and couldn't be stopped…
Because he loved her, the feeding was automatic, and the protection would burn him.
Sort of like the way she had just burned herself on Harry…
"Impossible," she snapped into her empty room.
She felt an urge to break something.
Lore Check:
Alright, so a few things here. First, Grey's Anatomy. It's generally accepted that Dresden Files starts in 2000, and Dead Beat was five years into the series. Grey's Anatomy aired in March of 2005, so it should be the appropriate time frame. Still, I've been wrong with my time frames before, darn you Pepsi, so if I'm off try to shrug it off.
Lara's insurance scheme is entirely my own creation. I wrote it to demonstrate Lara performing a cunning act of manipulation, and also because I thought it would be funny.
Now, Harry asking Lara how she would seduce him. This is directly because of my other favorite character to hook up Harry with, good old Sheila (read:Lash). She made her first appeance in Dead Beat, and now Harry has a genuine and valid concern of being seduced by the powers of darkness. Naturally, he goes to the best seducer he knows for advice. Lara's seduction speech is actually canon (given to him in Turn Coat, right after the Skinwalker attach on the Raith Manor), though I did expand on it. I lampshaded the fact that it was taken from cannon as well. Harry's response though is different from how he shrugged it off in the books. This time, Lara isn't an enemy so he can't just tell her to go screw herself and ignore her. However, this is Harry, he can't just take it laying down either. Combined with his natural inclination to rise to a challenge, we find an interesting stalemate formed between the two. I like the tension between them, the fact that neither one of them is willing to give up what they want or what they believe in, but both aren't willing to just cut the other out.
Next, Lara's unconscious feeding. Yes, that is in there specifically for what the chapter says. Lara has feelings for Harry, though maybe not as strong as love, yet, but refuses to accept that she does. It's in Turn Coat where Thomas explains that the reaction comes from how close to the surface the Hunger is when they touch someone. He uses the same two examples as I do, Madeline and himself. In White Night, Lara shows she's able to physically interact with Harry without burning, which I took to mean as her having good control over her Hunger, for the most part, though she did lose it after the explosion when she thought they were going to die. In Favor, Lara's long relationship with Harry have affected her control around him.
And finally, I had so much fun writing Drunk!Lara. Her characterization at this point is entirely my own. It's based of the canon facts that the one thing that embarasses Lara is loss of control (White Night), and that when control is taken from her she gets angry (at Ebenezar in Turn Coat, when he picks her up, and in Peace Talks when Harry beats her on Demonreach). At this point, Lara is very much used to being a powerful and incontrol owner of the White Court. However, Harry specializes in making people lose control. Normally, her rage would require her to destroy whoever embarassed her, but since Harry is hers (in her opinion), it means she can be a little juvenile in how she reacts.
Seriously, the part where she called Thomas 'half Harry' made me giggle as I wrote it. The giggling persisted till she told Thomas Harry is never getting his clothes back.
#EmbarrassedLaraTsundere for the Win!
