Ok, so here's chapter 38! Please bear in mind that this chapter contains smut/erotica/lemonish scenes. If you are not a fan of this kind of thing, you can move straight on to chapter 39.

If you're not leaving this chapter right now, I just want to quickly confess that this chapter was one of the most difficult and the most interesting to write.
I hope you enjoy!

The clouds were draped over the moon like a muslin gauze, only serving to barely obscure her ardent glow. The sky around the unknowing, celestial bride seemed to grow darker- forgetting about the stars- only wishing to prostate itself before her.

The wind whistled as it passed through rooftops and treetops, slipping by mediums of the natural and manufactured world alike.
Its song appeared to herald an oncoming storm but was far than mournful or ominous in tone.
Rather, it seemed almost ecstatic with anticipation.

The glacial gusts stoked small clusters of withered leaves- stragglers from Autumn's abrupt epilogue- and the first few drops of rain to fall from clouds, as they hurried to their places in the heavens, found themselves dancing from their desired course long before they met the pavement.

In a kind of fallacy that was far from sympathetic, both the human who had devoted itself to restoring the past and the Weeping Angel who had devoted itself to running from it, had long been blown from their desired courses and left stranded in a place that neither knew how to name.

It wasn't long before the darkest of stratus clouds began to gather in their huddled masses, too reticent to attempt to even approach the moon but floating in crowds around her, all the same.
The first few droplets struck the pavement just seconds after the stroke of midnight.

Cassidy and Michael stood in relative silence- the only real soundtrack to their exchanges was a soft hiss of rain.
"You're…afraid of me?" Disbelief glanced over her voice as she considered the weight of the Archangel's confession.

She slowly sat down upon the sofa, lowering her gaze to her hands.
Her face was suddenly searingly hot but a constant shiver pulsed from the base of her spine to the nape of her neck.
This sudden icy chill turned to the grazing of flames when she felt Michael's hand touch her face, reverently skimming her cheek.

"I'm afraid of what you're capable of doing to me…"

Outside, a distant rumble of thunder sounded out across the sky.

Cassidy felt her heart start to race but she did not look up at him, instead choosing to stare straight ahead at the television as his knuckles continued to stroke along her jaw line. She tilted her head slightly, pushing her hair aside to accommodate his hand's journey to her throat.
At one time, his touch on the hollows of her neck would have been set to bruise and break. It would have stilted her breathing and brought her to tearful, frightened pleading.
But not now.

Now, she felt no trace of fear.
She had to take a moment to marvel at the fact that she really had, for better or worse, seemed to have forgotten how to be afraid of Michael.

The quivering sensations that burned across her skin could not possibly be fear.

Why should she fear him?
She pondered this thought for a moment deciding that a certain theory drastically needed testing.

Without even slightly turning her head to acknowledge the Archangel's continued ministrations, Cassidy leaned forward to turn off the television and uttered one simple command beneath her breath: "Stop."

Michael's hand froze, as though prompted by his quantum-locking and retracted only a confused, silent second later.

"…are you in a state of discomfort?"

A second clap of thunder followed the first.

Cassidy's lips stretched into a brief smile of triumph before she slowly shook her head.
"No, I'm just a little cold…ts'all."

Why should she fear him when she was the one in control?

When she finally turned to look up at him, his arms were by his side, his head lowered and his eyes fixated on her face with a kind of intensity that she had not witnessed in what felt like a long time ago.

"So you're afraid of what I'm capable of doing to you?" she questioned, crossing her legs and looking up at him, meeting his eyes without hesitation. "And what is it exactly that I'm capable of doing to you?"
Her voice was little more than a whisper but her question was spoken with such conviction that Michael was prompted to respond immediately.

"Bending me…breaking me…building me…all to your will…"
His own voice had dropped down several octaves to become a basal growl.

Cassidy gave a deliberately slow blink, just to see what his next action would be and felt a jolt of electricity jump from her chest to her lower abdomen when he was suddenly leaning right over her.
If she lifted her head even slightly, her nose would be touching his.

"You make me question everything I was ever taught…every single one of my beliefs…all of my past actions…" the Weeping Angel went on, while the human became very aware of her own very loud breathing. "You are capable of causing me great elation while simultaneously causing me great distress…and I allow you to do all of this…"
It was a human voice that she heard in her ears but she could definitely hear something underlying it.
Beneath his human baritone was an unearthly series of rippling vocalisations that tinged his words with an inexplicable sense of desperation and foreboding.

Cassidy lifted her head and very definitely, very deliberately grazed her nose against the Archangel's, feeling a quivering, pulsing fire spread through her lower abdomen when the realisation of their proximity washed over her.

"And why do you allow me to do all of this?" she whispered, feeling fit to continue her persistent challenging as the fire spread as far north as her neck and as far south as her knees, engulfing all and setting her atremble as it went.

She felt his hand stroke her cheek, looping a lock of her hair around her ear, his talons lightly scraping against her warm skin.
"Because," he replied, whispering yet speaking in a volume that drowned out all other sounds in the room. "Your existence is everything to me. You are everything to me. Your body. Your mind. Your very essence. You."

Cassidy felt her chest tighten, her heart pounding in her throat as she slowly brought her hands to touch his face, cupping his jaw between her palms and savouring the feel of his skin. Each time she touched him, his skin appeared to have a different texture- ranging from soft as silk to marble hard, from lightly ridged scales to something much closer to human skin.

But Michael wasn't human.
And that fact didn't even slightly deter Cassidy as she slowly brought her hand to the back of the Weeping Archangel's neck, guiding him to rest his forehead against hers.

"Do you want me?" she breathed, her legs pressing together as she felt the Lonely Assassin's hand gently grip the back of her neck at the end.

"You know I do," he replied, a kind of strangled desperation evident in his voice.

Still slightly shaking from the crook of her elbows to the tips of her fingers, Cassidy brought her hands to the buttons of her pyjamas. Tentatively, she started to slip each small, plastic pearl from its tiny silken slit, her tongue briefly darting from her mouth to moisten her slightly dry lips.

"Then take me."

A beast-like growl rippled from the Archangel, startling the human woman before she felt strong arms wrap around her torso, lifting her into a standing position with ease. Cassidy's initial words of surprise melted to gasps as she felt lips at the base of her throat, the Angel's hands seizing her lower back and dragging her against his chest.
Her own grip moved from his shoulders to his upper biceps, her fingers tightening their hold and her gasps turning to needy cries as she felt his tongue and teeth join his lips upon her neck travelling downward.

She tilted her head back further, moaning between her lips as the Angel's mouth continued moving, eventually coming to suckle on her exposed collar bone, lapping at her skin.
Was it her imagination that the lights above her head had started to dim?

Just as the hot water pouring forth from the shower had elicited such rapture in her before, he was now capable of the same. Her taste and scent had rendered his appetite insatiable. She was so vastly different to anything he had ever been accustomed to, but as always, that fact barely mattered. All that mattered was that in that very moment, she was his.
She was there. She was with him. She was his Cassidy.

No longer fully in control of her own actions, Cassidy slowly moved her hands through his mane, applying the slightest of pressure and coaxing him lower. When his lips finally met the parted seam of her pyjama shirt, pressing over the swell of her chest, the human woman heard a breathy mewl pass from her lips.
Almost out of instinct, her hands moved to the buttons, slipping and fumbling with haste as she tried to remove the garment.
Sensing her evident frustration, the Archangel instantly came to her aid, gripping her wrists and in one swift motion, coercing her to tear it open.
The small, plastic buttons clattered to the floor below, her pyjama shirt quickly following it.

Shelled of the soft, green silk of her dressings, the human's lips trembled as she they grazed his cheek.
"Are you anxious?" His hands moved to her now-bare waist, pulling her closer, so that her breasts were firmly pressed, flush against his chest.
"No," was her firm and almost frustrated reply as she freed her hands to blindly grip at his torso, as though trying to force their bodies closer still. "I told you, I'm just…just fucking cold."
"Then we should warm you…"
Her newly exposed skin, in every dip, curve and crevice seemed to already be quite feverish but regardless, he raised his wings to shelter her as he slowly guided her to lay down.

She heard her Archangel moan as she touched his coiling plumage, shuddering in unison with him as her back collided with the plush cushions that lined the floor. From moment to moment, a fleeting phantom of reason- or perhaps sanity- would enter into the motions in their passionate pas de deux. For a few panicked seconds, Cassidy's self-imposed blindness awakened fear in her. She could feel the barest press of Michael's teeth as his mouth continued to cover her torso and though he did not lower his weight upon her, she could sense and feel the expanse of his huge form over her as he moved.
"M-…"
She made the attempt to speak but her words turned to baited gasps as his tongue dragged across one of her nipples.

Her responses were intriguing.
Her every movement- every breath, every cry- only served to encourage him in his pursuit.
She appeared to be far more sensitive to touch than the females of his species than he had ever imagined. The delicate, pink aureoles upon her breasts puckered in the wake of his attentions. Her soft cries were mellifluous and his ears were eager to drink in more of them. Slowly, he brought his face to be level with hers- originally with the intent to take in more of her delicious scent- only to have her lips eagerly seek out his. Unable to deny her anything at that moment in time, he returned the kiss.

He wasn't gentle.
She didn't expect him to be.
Gentility would not have suited her Archangel at all in that particular situation.
Despite it, he gave her what she silently petitioned him for.
She brought her hands to his chest, only to find that the usual patch of warmth in the centre of pectoral muscles seemed to have spread outward, pulsing slightly.
Or was that pulsing coming from her own skin?
That didn't matter.
None of it mattered.
Nothing mattered except for then and there.
This was the manifestation of her darkest dreams- the ones that she had awoken from and refused to remember. The ones that her subconscious clung to and refused to throw away, despite the feelings of guilt and shame that they evoked.
Just like the diamond necklace that she kept hidden in the back of her bedroom drawer…
Now was the time for neither shame nor guilt.
Cassidy pulled her lips from Michael's, her lungs burning for air.
She squeezed her eyes shut, resolving astutely not to open them, not even when his weight shifted above her and he slowly coaxed her legs apart.

From what experience he had with humans, he was more than aware that their mating rituals did not differ too greatly from those of his own kind.
Or at the very least, the mechanics of it were not alien to him.
Wishing to test her experience, he settled at the apex of her thighs, grinding himself against her soft, clothed, warmth in a simulation of what was to come. This was a common practice with virginal Angels.
She was perfectly responsive, lifting her hips and mirroring his actions.
Their dance was clumsy at first but it was not long before their bodies moved in unison, synchronised down to the bend of the other's spine.
True, she was nothing like one of their kind but she was so unbelievably without flaw that the Archangel found himself cursing and denying the teachings of his youth. If this was a sin then why did her very scent drive him to the edge of excitement? If this was a sin then why did her body fit so perfectly against his? Why did her fingertips derive such ecstasy as they moved across his wings? Why did her legs press so eagerly against his sides?
Giving into the last temptation- breaking the last boundary of restraint- the Archangel drew back to survey the gasping, writhing, flushing yet impossibly beautiful creature who lay beneath him.

As her Archangel pulled himself away from her tenure, Cassidy found she was no longer able to touch him without straining herself. Confused and disappointed by his sudden absence, she was about to open her eyes, only to feel his hand encourage them shut once more.
"No," his deep voice told her. "Do not open your eyes. Please."
Wordlessly, she complied, nodding a little.
"Please," she echoed.
Her hands joined his at the seam of her pyjama trousers and lifting her hips slightly, aided him in removing the garment completely.

He could not help but take a moment to simply look at her as he had longed to.
Then he leaned over his human's much smaller body, placing a humanesque kiss on her parted lips. He whispered a warning, in the stolen human voice that he was finding it difficult to control. "C-assidy…m-my Cassidy…once…I start…I will not be capable of stopping myself…"

She shuddered slightly, the pulsing from beneath her naval growing ever harder to ignore as she reached up to rifle her hand through his hair.
"We've already started," she told him, her words laced with double meaning. "I don't care if you don't stop…I don't want you to stop…"
She could hear herself speaking boldly but a nervous part of Cassidy still brought a tremble to her knees. Willing as she was, this was still unfamiliar territory.

Her scent may have been alluring but her words were pure poison.
He licked her cheek, placing his hand on her hip and applying light but insistent pressure.
"Turn over. On to your stomach. Now."

When she realised exactly what he wanted, she shook her head, obstinately resisting him.
"No…n-no…I want to face you…."
The request was partially nonsensical, considering that her eyes were tightly closed.
But it wasn't that Cassidy wanted to see him.
She wanted him to see her.
She wanted him to watch her and be fully aware of everything she was feeling.
Everything that he was doing to her.
And in turn, remember what she was doing to him.

It was a murderously beautiful, passion-filled symbiosis.

Unable to refuse her request, Michael took a hold of her wrists, taking her hands from his head and pinning them down against the cushions.
In baited reverence for the woman that lay before him, his eyes scanned over her body, memorising every crease, every line and every marking. Soon his hands were on her again, tracing the expanse of her soft, snowy skin.
"You are beautiful," he told her over and over again. "Beautiful…"

He felt her grow tense as he moved to the apex of her legs.
"Hush," he bade her, eliciting a sudden gasp of surprise as he traced her opening. "I will care for you…"
He dropped his wings to his back, lifting the shadows and illuminating the flesh beneath his fingertips. As he had suspected, human females were not too different to his own kind at all. Regardless, he examined her first, gently inserting a finger into her soft folds.

It took all Cassidy's strength for her eyes not to shoot open and she couldn't prevent her knees from knocking together sharply in response to the sudden straining.
"Nnn.g…."
She groaned through her teeth, writhing slightly but comforted to feel his other hand press against her cheek.
"Do not stir. Relax," she heard him say. "You shall not feel pain if you relax…"
"B-Bull…sh…it," Cassidy hissed between gritted teeth. "G…go slower…"

He complied, marvelling silently at how warm and wet she already was- as though her body was already anticipating his.
He whispered words of comfort to her as he slowly continued to test her limits. In truth, he had no idea if the pain would subside for her. She was so different to anyone he had ever been with before- there was no way he could predict or empathise with her experience.
She was exceptionally small.
The fit was not going to be comfortable.

This wasn't the first time she'd ever had a boyfriend do this to her.
One of her college boyfriends had touched her like this underneath a blanket in her dormitory after the same booze-soaked party where Cassidy had learned of her affinity for cheap wine, her adoration of Akira Toriyama, her aversion for German beers and her dislike of small talk.
She could distinctly remember it being an uncomfortable experience- more like being probed than anything else- and making a mental note at the time to never read another paperback erotica from the newsagent's and more importantly: never to allow anyone else to do this to her again.

But right now?
After the first initial strain, the ache gave way to a kind of blissful pressure that spread a rippling feeling of pleasure throughout her lower body. Gradually, she found herself shamelessly parting her legs, giving into the delightful sensations until soon her hips were unconsciously moving in time with her Archangel's touches.

Hair framing her face like a halo, cheeks flushed a rose petal pink, mewling and whispering from parted, peony lips...she was the most radiant being he had ever seen. Up until now, he had only ever been able to see her like this in brief, voyeuristic, shameful glances, watching her sleep and watching her wash.
Now, she was before him.
Real, warm and waiting.

"This is how Psyche must have felt," Cassidy thought, placing a hand over his own on her cheek. "In the proverbial throes of passion with a being that she couldn't even look at…"
She felt a sudden emptiness when he withdrew from her body, only to have her breath stolen from her lungs at the feeling of a bulbous, silken head pressing against her centre.
She felt Michael's much larger form lean over her, his huge arms on either side of her head.
His head lowered and his lips grazed her cheek and nose, before she felt an expanse of flesh press against her mouth.
It took her a few seconds to realise that it was her Angel's shoulder.
"Bite if you need to," he told her. "Do not fear hurting me, I will heal…"
"I…I'm…not going to bite y-…" She was cut off by his movement.
Her brow furrowed for a moment.
Then, her mind went completely blank- hanging and hinging on every sensation that followed.

The first few inches were agonising.
Pleasurable but agonising.
She gripped him as no other lover had gripped him before.

The stinging was immediate and unbearable, prompting her to instantly let out a yelp of pain. It wasn't, perhaps, as dramatically tortuous as the paperback romance or her over-zealous colleagues had described but it still hurt.
This was it? This was what everyone was so obsessed with?

He could feel her heartbeat, rapid against his chest as he leaned down to run his tongue along the soft outer shell of her ear, tasting her further. He could feel her body grow tense and instinctively lowered his wings to brush his feathers against her skin.

She threw her head forward, pressing her forehead against his torso as her hands clung to his arms, her fingernails digging into her Archangel's arms.
Her bare legs pressed into the alcoves in his sides as she braced herself for each thrust. Soon, as she became more and more aware of how his body felt against hers, everything became easier.
Soon, she was meeting him, move for move, her body in unison with his.

Slowly but all at once, he continued to enter her untouched depths.
He wasn't surprised when her teeth started to press into his skin but her physical strength briefly enthralled him; it wasn't long before her teeth broke his flesh.
Likewise, it wasn't long- after several heated kisses and a few more breathy commands on the part of his human- before he became accustomed to her size.

Her breaths became fast and shallow, her knuckles turning milky as her hands sought purchase at his shoulders. The initial pain was quickly giving way to the same kind of fervid undulations she had felt before, prompting her to mirror him further, rolling her lower spine in time with his.
From time to time, he would apply pressure to just the right place and Cassidy throw her head forward into the crevice of Michael's neck, begging him to do it again.

Her grip on his shoulders loosened and one of her hands slowly journeyed down his back, touching the point at which his wings met his back. He could not contain a loud growl and wrapped his arm beneath the hollow of her back, lifting her closer to him and deepening the angle of his thrust.
Being able to see her was both a tantalising luxury and an agonising curse.
Watching every crease and every tint of colour in her face as he continued to thrust into her only made it more difficult to maintain control of himself.

It definitely wasn't her imagination that his skin was changing in texture as she ran her hands over his chest and back. His exposed flesh was growing hotter and hotter and his once faint scale-like markings were becoming more and more pronounced.
But it did not evoke any disgust in her.
If anything, it amazed her.
She cried out in ecstasy as he lifted her, throwing her arms around his neck and holding closer.

Contrary to anything he had been taught in his youth, there could not be anything wrong with this. How could there be anything wrong with this?

He wasn't even human.
She didn't even care.
She couldn't find herself caring about anything really.

At that moment, he would have been content to ravenously take her in the forest where his Tribe dwelled. If they reviled him or persecuted him for his actions, it would only serve to encourage him further.
Any form of punishment seemed to be worth this experience.
She was worth anything.

Cassidy found herself overcome with a kind of blissful amnesia.
Nothing seemed to matter anymore.
Nothing aside from her Archangel and what was happening between them.

Karida was wrong.
His mother was wrong.
His father was wrong.

He pushed her legs back a little further, returning his hands to her breasts.

Forget the Museum.
Forget Edmund.
Forget Leon.

She threw her head backwards, moving her hips faster, keeping time with his suddenly increased pace. She became aware of her own desperate, longing vocalisations and realised that they had long become intermingled with his own.

Ariel was wrong.
Kyrie was wrong.
They were all wrong.

He pressed his forehead against hers, his hand grasping at the back of her slender neck.

Forget Stanford.
Forget Nancy.
Forget Christine.

Her lips grazed his, her breath heavy as she felt the pressure beneath her navel increase.

He had been wrong.
He had been wrong about her.
Completely wrong.

And there was nothing wrong about this.

Forget Clara.
Forget the Doctor.
Forget River Song.

But there was no way she was going to forget this.

Heat started in the pit of her stomach and spread outward like flames, travelling through her veins and right down to her fingertips.
Her neck craned and she softly pressed her quivering lips against his.

And their lips remained connected as he took her to oblivion.

And in the midst of vivid fantasy and blurring reality, just as she let herself go, Cassidy felt a sudden spark in her chest.
Similar to the feeling she had experienced when he had fed her time energy.
But at the same time, nothing like it.

But then again, it wasn't something that she hadn't felt before.

A small eternity later, she dared herself to open her eyes a small fraction.
She could see that the early morning sun was starting to peel through the curtains, bluish gilded flecks starting to flit across her rose-tinged skin.

She stirred slightly, trying to gauge her position on the floor and quickly realising how heavy her limbs felt. Light-headed in the wake of a post-orgasmic glow that she had never experienced before.
She could faintly recall her brief obsession with the writings of Anais Nin.
Part of the fascination had definitely stemmed from her lack of understanding of the profoundly articulate woman's work and her desire to make some sense of it.

She closed her eyes again, brushing her hair from her face and nestling back into the cushions.

She could remember some of the quotes that she had taped to the wall above her writing desk.
"The day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."

Thatone brought a smile to her lips.
She had certainly taken a risk just now.

Michael quickly became aware of her stirrings and she couldn't mask evident surprise at the realisation that the Archangel's human voice was quite tired sounding.

"Are you alright?"

"Mmmhmm…"
Cassidy realised that her own voice didn't seem to want to work yet.

His scent surrounded her and he wrapped an arm around her torso, pulling her close to his chest. She happily rested her head there and his wings surrounded her, wrapping around her like some kind of strange blanket.

Another Nin quote sprang immediately to mind:

"I am a winged creature who is rarely allowed to use its wings. Ecstasies do not occur often enough."

Cassidy thought about what had transpired between them and found herself smiling a little more. "No…they most certainly do not."

"They most certainly do not what?" he asked her as he threaded both arms around her waist, highlighting to her that she had voiced her thoughts aloud.

"Mmm…nothing," she sighed, tracing one of his feathers before curling back up against him. "I like this…this is nice…"

"This is to make sure that you are safe and protected," the Archangel replied, still sounding slightly sleepy despite not needing to sleep. "So that no other males will take you from me whilst you rest…"

Cassidy cocked an eyebrow, mumbling a half-yawned reminder that she wasn't a Weeping Angel but for once it didn't make her angry, it just made her want to laugh.

It was nice to want to laugh, relieving almost.
As she settled to sleep in her Archangel's arm, she had forgotten about a lot of things.
She had forgotten all about what River Song had told her, what Karida had almost succeeded in doing and her promise to help Michael do away with his father.

Unfortunately, this was far easier said than done.

"Take your rest, my sunlight," she heard him say.

A final Nin quote crept into her mind as her consciousness surrendered itself once more, her fingers lightly tracing the lines across Michael's neck and chest.

"You cannot save people,
you can only love them."

I reeeeeaally hope you enjoyed this chapter!
Chapter 39 is going to be up within the next few days.
Of course, the writings of Anais Nin do not belong to me- I've just used some of her quotes here because they seemed rather appropriate and Cassidy always rather felt like a Nin fan to me.

Thank you for reading as always! *humble bows*

Peace seems to have settled over our unlikely allies.
For now.