Title: A Game of Pool
Author: Dark Roswellian Angel
Elizabeth McDowell
Disclaimer: I don't, and frankly I'm miserably depressed over it, so please don't ask again : (-
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Rating: M, just in case
Synopsis: It's just a game of pool, isn't it? Set during that could-be-yummy-if-the-L-word wasn't so involved "Borrowed Time" episode.
He was unprepared for how well the other man played. Irritation blazed through him when he looked over and saw the look on her face. This was his game. He was the one who would be winning her. All he needed was for the man to miss one shot, and then he'd clean up, officially demonstrating that he was at the top of the ladder. Anger added to the irritation as he watched the inferior man knock down yet another shot, realizing that her eyes were all for the competition at this point. Wanting to bring her attention back to him, he bent down next to the winning man. At least at this vantage point, he knew she was watching him as well. In addition, he was able to put a little bit more pressure on the other guy, gloating when the tension broke him and he missed a shot.
Now it was his time to shine. When he heard, "He's gonna run it," he could feel the words stroking his ego. It was all he could do to keep himself from cracking his fingers and puffing out his chest, keeping it restrained to his smirk instead.
She couldn't believe that a simple game of pool was affecting her like this. She could swear it felt more like her inner kitty was out in the wild, watching all the pretty males fighting each other to earn her. She both loved it and hated it. For one, she wanted to be a normal female, and responding like this was hardly normal (at least that's what she thought). But lately she had begun wondering just how much longer she could ignore all the different underlying parts of her- how much longer could she pretend to be the good little human girl that Logan saw when he looked at her? And what would it mean when those other parts got tired of being ignored and raised their proud heads, refusing to be kept down any longer. She cared about Logan, had chosen him over everyone else, and he was a good man. He helped her become a better person. But that's all he was- a man. In her opinion it didn't make her better or worse than him, just different, that she was so much more than just a human. She knew instinctively that he couldn't understand- it wasn't his fault, but he hadn't been raised like she had been, he wasn't made like her, he didn't see things or hear things or understand things like she instinctively could. And when she was with Alec, all of those underlying pieces and parts of her that she tried to ignore so that she could be happy with Logan kept responding to him.
Like right now. Right now when to the rest of the world all he was doing was playing some pool but they both knew that wasn't it. They both knew that, just like when he was doing just about anything else (fighting beside her, protecting her, verbally sparring with her, touching her, affecting her) he was proving just how right for her he was, whether intentionally or not. But right now was intentional. Very intentional. Right now he was fighting with the man she had chosen to take her as his. Right now he was slipping his hand over the fence she'd made and drawing her to him right past her chosen partner. Right now he was making her his.
And it scared the crap out of her. She wasn't ready for this. She wasn't ready to move on to something permanent, heck the long-term whatever it was that she had with Logan was more than she felt like she could handle. No matter how sweet and good and kind he was, even Logan scared her. And the idea of finding her mate, the man who matched her inside and out through and through, who could understand her because he was like her when she still wasn't sure that she could accept herself, the idea of forever when in her experience everything she ever truly cared about disappeared or was taken from her- it terrified her. It was reason enough for her to hide from him, like she had been doing, behind her boyfriend. It was reason enough for her to criticize him, to force herself to look down on him, to find anything that approached a shortcoming and to blow it all out of proportion- just so that she wouldn't have to face what she had found in him. So, she could hardly be blamed for ignoring her basic desires and hoping that Logan would win this outward battle of wills, even though when it appeared he might just do that very thing, it actually almost upset her.
By the time he missed a shot, she was so thoroughly confused that it irritated her- on the one hand she wanted things to stay the way they were, safe, unchallenging, avoiding what her creators had intended for her to become, as close to normal as she'd ever gotten. On the other hand, she wanted to let herself loose, to feel everything that she knew Alec could make her feel, to open herself up to him and grow and become everything that she knew she could with him beside her. And for the life of her, she wasn't sure which set of desires she wanted to win.
Still, simple game or not, she couldn't help the little thrill that shot through her as she saw him begin to clean the table, strength and grace in every move, cockiness in his every glance. All male she smirked. And the knowledge that he was opening himself up, that he was using all his knowledge and abilities to put forth an impressive game, had her biting her bottom lip in appreciation. She knew there was no way that the older man could win, and part of her celebrated that fact. She began to recognize that she wanted this man- she wanted Alec to claim her. She watched him brush up against Logan as though he weren't even there, as though he didn't matter enough for him to keep track of his location, and felt a smirk cross her face. She appreciated his humor, his lack of deference to the best that the all-human world had to offer. She watched his skilled hands play along the length of the cue and had never wanted to be made of wood so much in her life. Just the thought of what those hands could do to her had her breathing hard. If he could bring a piece of wood to life, make it sing, just imagine what he could do to her. She licked her lips as though trying to taste him through the air as she closed her eyes for just a second and imagined what heights, and depths, those hands could bring her to. When she opened them again, he was staring at her, the stick forgotten, desire blazing across his face for just an instant, too fast for his opponent to notice, igniting in her an identical flame. She grabbed Sketchy's shoulder to help steady herself, not noticing as she unclamped her grip from the stool beneath her. She was surprised no one else noticed just how much heat was going between them. She was surprised the table hadn't caught on fire yet. She was surprised by just how much she wanted him.
As he bent down again, opposite from her, his eyes became dangerous. She could see his inner being coming out- coming to play, coming to claim her. His eyes became darker, the inner iris expanding until there was hardly any hazel left. And suddenly she knew- this was for real. Any gentle game was gone. This was for her. This was for keeps. If he won, then she would be his. He would own her. And even though a part of her loved the thought, a much larger, much stronger part of her balked. She was an alpha and no one would ever own her. She was her own person, and she chose who she would be with, who she would mate with. Even after mating, she would still be her own person. She would decide how to live her life. She would decide what to do where and when and how. Yes, she was willing to admit that this man before her was her equal, that one day she would probably choose to act on all the feelings and emotions and desires he inspired in her, but that would be on her terms. Not like this. Even though she enjoyed watching him take down all the pretenders, the only one that was going to win her by the end of the night was her. Even though that meant that he had to lose.
So as he bent down, she quickly thought of how to use their abilities against him. She looked toward his neck, his ear, and blew, the air heading straight towards him.
As her invisible caress hit him, tickling his neck, nipping at his earlobe, and wrapping flirtatiously around him, he stopped. Did she have any idea how she was affecting him? He felt his desire for her increase as he felt the soft cushion slide up and down his skin. He took just a second to look over at her and realized that she knew exactly what she was doing- the question was why. He shook his head- he needed to focus and she was making that difficult.
As he moved, she realized that he was trying to ignore her. Slight aggravation grabbed at her- there was no way he was going to be ignoring her. He was hers at least as much as she was his. If she was meant to be with him, then the same could be said of him. And suddenly, she wanted to claim him. She could feel as her pheremones increased exponentially, and taking advantage of them, she blew down at herself at just the right angle to make them hasten their delivery to him. She watched him shiver, but still he made the shot.
He smelled her from across the room. Her desire, her want, her need, and it was rapidly becoming his own. He had a hard time seeing straight, but thankfully he had already lined up the shot before she'd made herself even more known. As he heard the ball go down, he stood up crowing with pleasure. Still, to give himself just a second to get back under control, he made a show of carefully picking out his next shot, acting as though he wasn't able to hit any of the balls from any area of the table and have them go down, all the while watching her reaction to him. He couldn't get why she was doing this. She was throwing him off his game- why? What could she possibly have to gain by letting the ordinary win? He leaned over to wipe one of his last 2 remaining balls off the table only to feel the ordinary attempt to intimidate him by leaning over him. Nice try, but you're not going to get anywhere by copying one of my moves, he thought to himself. And then he felt her move towards him.
Realizing that there was no way her boyfriend could win, Max knew that she had to do something. She could hear the men egging each other on, and knew that Logan's attempt was useless. There was no way he could affect Alec's abilities, but maybe she could. At just the right second, she took a step forward, focusing completely on him, hoping that he would feel her movement.
He did, and it was just enough to throw his aim off. As he watched the ball bounce back at him, he looked over to her. He couldn't tell what was in her eyes as she looked back. He tried to fight back the upset, trying to satisfy himself by asking his friend who he was supporting, though both transgenics in the room knew that he was actually bitterly asking her. He tried to keep from glowering as he watched the older man finish the game, completely aware of the fact that if it hadn't been for her interference this game would have had a very different ending. And a much deeper impact in his personal life. He looked over at her and tried to tell if she was happy or not with how things had turned out. As he left the room for a minute, just to rein in control of himself, he was surprised that he couldn't tell.
She was even more surprised that she couldn't tell either.