Hey everyone! I hope you like this next bit. Before I get into that all, though, if you're a Karma shipper (and who in this fandom, frankly, isn't?) you need to check out Libba's latest Livejournal post. It has plenty o' Gemma/Kartik outtakes from TSFT! Obviously they're not going to be in the book, but there's lots of hints towards content in TSFT as well, and they're fun little sketches of the favorite duo.

Also, if you have any ideas as to pairings or scenes in this story, check out my "Pairings" topic in "Rebels and Beauties".

On with the story, then! (I didn't come up with the name Zan, by the way—it's a Slavic form of John, according to Babynames. Zan, by the way, is the boy with the big nose who seems to have a bit of a liking to Gemma when she comes to see Mother Elena and has her first kiss with Kartik. gushes)

Story Nine

Title: Acceptance

Rating: K

Summary: When Ann meets with her gypsy lover, she often pretends that she is someone else.

I run through the woods, adrenaline pulsing through my veins. I love this feeling—before I find him. The adventure to our meeting spot is always exciting and new, whereas our actual meeting is just the former, if that.

Zan is waiting at the meeting spot, just a few meters away from the gypsy camp. I must admit that I'm always half-terrified that someone will leave the camp and see us together, although I know that I should be more worried about Gemma finding my bed vacant, or worse yet—Mrs. Nightwing.

We don't say hello. We just stand there for a bit, gazing at one another.

In many ways, Zan is still the boy from that night all those months ago when all four of us went to the gypsy camp to speak with Mother Elena. That night seems like forever ago—Felicity treating Ithal like she'd never seen him in her entire life, Gemma kissing Kartik like that. Zan had been the one who interjected—was Kartik so sure that Gemma was his? But her kiss had stopped his queries.

Yes, in many ways, he is still the boy from that night all those months ago. He's grown into his nose a bit, and that's helped out his appearance quite a good deal, although I must admit that the two of us make for a rather homely duo. He still has that cocky, insecure aura about him, though. I'm sure he'd act the same way if the four—no, three—of us showed up here in search of Mother Elena again.

Zan finally breaks the silence, and therefore stops my thought process. From his spot leaning idly against a tree, he says in a slightly scolding voice, "Where have you been, Ann?"

I can tell that Zan is not too happy. Is it my fault that I've been busy with schoolwork and helping Gemma save the realms? I'm nervous—afraid that I've lost him—the only young man I'll ever be able to tempt. I suddenly decide to act like Fee would in such a situation.

It's easy to do, really. I suppose that in all of my meetings with Zan, I pretend that I am someone else. Someone beautiful and charming and alluring. Now that I've taken on the part of a person like Felicity, I find myself taking confident steps towards Zan. He pushes himself up from the tree and stands up straight as I glide in circles around him. "Oh, around," I say, my voice calm. Once I reach his side, I daringly trace a finger down his cheek, to his lips. "Schoolwork is a big priority of mine, you know," I murmur, my lips teasing his—just inches away. When he moves to kiss me, I take a giant step back and say, "You just weren't at the top of my list lately, that's all."

I immediately regret my words. I might be able to act like Felicity Worthington, but I do, by no means, look like her. Therefore, callous words out of my mouth are not seen as an inviting challenge. They're seen as a reason to give up. A girl of my looks and lack of wealth cannot toy with young men, even if they're homely, simple gypsies. I can tell this by the way that Zan does not even look slightly crestfallen. He just blinks, slowly, before asking, "And what makes you think you're on the top of mine?"

I blink in the same fashion now. I never really thought about Zan's priorities. I never thought that I was on the top of his list, either, come to think of it. I've worried many a night that he's been with another woman—some beautiful gypsy girl that he could have a future with. I want to say I've never said such a thing but I don't. Instead, I rack my brains for the words Felicity would choose in such a situation. I can't give up my act now.

Finally, I manage to blurt out in a rather unsure voice, "You were waiting for me, weren't you?"

Zan takes that as an invitation. He closes the distance between us with a few steps and kisses me, quite angrily. He's a boy in so many ways. I know that if he were to do this to someone like Gemma, she'd push him away, not tolerating such immature actions. Felicity would probably kiss him back just as forcefully. But I'm not either of them, I think to myself, enjoying the feel of Zan's tongue darting into my mouth. So I do what I would do in such a situation. I accept the kiss, and that is that.