I watch the work of my kin bold and boyful
Toying somewhere between love and abuse
Calling to join them the wretched and joyful
Shaking the wings of their terrible youths
Freshly dissolved in some frozen devotion
No more alone or myself could I be
Looks like a strain to the arms it were open
No shortage of sordid, no protest from me
With her sweetened breath, and her tongue so mean
She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene
With her straw-blonde hair, her arms hard and lean
She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene
HOZIER - Angel of Small Death & the Codeine Scene
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Canary knew she was fucked. Not just slightly but really, really fucked.
She could see Al Sa-Her trying to save the hood as he hung on the other side of the pit and she hoped that at least the Arrow was doing well if the shouting was anything to go by.
Oliver knew the flooring had given way in the blast and hated trusting Merlyn to get his team to safety but if he'd learnt anything it was not to underestimate that man.
He dodged another fist and let his mind return to the fight.
Malcolm was desperately trying to drag the young pup back over the edge but the stubborn fool wouldn't let go of his bow.
A flash of blonde on the other side of the pit made Malcolm look up with horror as he realized Laurel was slipping. SHIT!
Movement near the pit eased his mind and he turned back to his own rescue mission without further concern for the girl.
Laurel struggled to keep her grip and as she slipped a little further she let a sob escape. Sorry Daddy.
The hand that reached for her was delicate yet large. Male. The long fingers wiggled an invitation and she didn't hesitate.
To her shock he lifted her with one arm, flicking her up onto her feet and she gapped at … Malcolm Merlyn's PA come Toy boy? Wow, he smelt like apple and cinnamon with a hint of musk that was unmistakably Merlyn.
Dressed all in black he looked like an entirely different person, his normally quaffed hair disheveled and wild like his eyes. His black leather trousers hugged each curve in an erotic way and the long sleeved Granddaddy T with those delicious buttons open at his throat made her mouth water.
His boots were black and sturdy looking, like hiking boots and she noted that his ankles were dainty. Looking up she saw a buckle of a black panther's head with ruby red eyes above his crotch and she wondered how easy it would be to pop that belt open.
Strong arms held her in a loose embrace and she impulsively stepped closer.
He was stronger than he looked and her hand on his chest told her he had more muscle on his lean body than she had thought. Wow, what he hid under those suits felt fine! Tall!
"Well? Don't keep him waiting" came the accented quip as Ianto turned to leave.
"Wait, please." She yelled as the shock gave way to recognition, "You're the black cat!"
The one they were tracking, the unknown player who flitted in and out of their world, leaving only footprints like a cat on your expensive car's paintwork. Oliver had named him the black cat because of his stealth, ability to land on his feet and any eyewitness said he moved like a hunter.
Oh yeah, he always dressed in black, that helped with the name. Boys pick such obvious names. Now she has seen him she would have chosen better. Panther or wraith maybe?
Ianto pivoted on his heel and tilted his head in a most becoming way and slowly grinned. God he was gorgeous in this light.
"Does that mean I'm the cat that got the Canary Ms. Lance?" he snarked with a wink.
She knew her mouth was hanging open but, what the hell?
She found herself roughly pushed against a wall with his mouth thrust onto hers making her toes curl in her boots as his tongue explored her mouth. She knew she was groaning with need and he tasted even better than he smelt.
Ianto drew back panting with lust and then lunged again, his hands on her as he teased her though her pants.
She felt wanton and lustful, lifting a leg to encourage him as she ground against him.
Her hands slid inside his black shirt to feel scars and hidden imperfections. He drew back and she thought for a second that he was going to kiss her again but then she saw the blade as it nicked his arm.
They both battled the second wave of goons, Ianto's barks and snarls egging her on and when it was all over she looked over to see Malcolm plastered against the wall she had warmed up for him as Ianto fiercely kissed him. Wow!
Oliver was coming, Diggle arguing with him and Ianto's eyes widened. A nod from Malcolm, he stepped back into the shadows. To laurel's shock he disappeared. Like a wisp of smoke into the dark.
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Malcolm found Ianto already asleep when he got home, bad baby! He went to wake him and froze. He didn't look right. He didn't smell right either. The sweet sticky smell of almonds was in the air and Malcolm recognized the scent of poison. No!
He got nearer and saw the cut on his arm, the discoloring around the cut that suggested a poisoned tip and despaired.
He didn't know what to do. He froze. Like when he lost Rebecca, he lost all reason and just knelt there by the bed.
Ianto opened a bleary eye and stared at his lover.
"Cold down there?" he asked softly, startling Malcolm.
"Toto? You OK?" Malcolm asked with desperation.
"Yes, just a nick. The Canary had a nasty bite to her leg though" he said.
"I put some cream on it but I think it got infected when I swam across the river to get home" Ianto yawned.
"Almond and coconut shampoo."
"What?" Malcolm frowned, Ianto's disjointed conversation confusing him.
"The smell silly, her shampoo from when I snogged her," Ianto sighed.
That he knew what had upset Malcom was no surprise as this minx seemed to know everything, as he kept saying.
"How did she taste sweetheart?" Malcolm whispered as he nuzzled Ianto's cheek.
"Peaches, ripe and juicy" came a sighed response and Ianto rolled onto his side, presenting his back to the annoying sleep depriver.
Malcolm smothered a laugh of relief knowing Ianto wouldn't appreciate it when he was sleeping.
He climbed into the bed and carefully took a hand from the covers into his own. Ianto smiled in his sleep and Malcom sighed softly.
They lay facing each other with hands entwined.
Live another day.
If you don't understand the reason for the lyrics then remember that a small death or little death was used to describe an orgasm once upon a time and Laurel has a problem with drugs. She is blond, lean and mean.