Narcotic

The moment Ethan’s eyelids parted, he searched for Brit in the darkness. His vision quickly became flawless again and he hinted a smile finding her nestled by his side. Inching closer to close the gap the daytime sleep had put between them, he laid his right arm on her upper arm gently brushing back the strands of hair that veiled her doll-like face. He studied her to ensure that all was as it was prior to their rest. Satisfied, Ethan beamed for a moment while touching her face. His thoughts were clear: “Nobody can take better care of you than me. Nobody.” Withdrawing his hand, he touched her chest feeling her breathe evenly in her sleep. Her chest rose and fell evenly as she slept as he lay there unblinking and marveling at he wonder of His creation that he was blessed with.

Two weeks ago, Ethan had taken Brit to the church and watched as she performed her nightly prayers. Many were milling about the streets. He could feel the question before she asked it. “Ethan,” she lisped softly. “Our door is locked lately. It did not use to be so,” she said.

His footsteps sounded firm on the street as he escorted her home. They passed someone who frequented the church steps but rarely entered. “Yes, baby,” Ethan replied. “I thought it prudent to lock the door so no one could enter our resting place while we sleep.” Glancing down, he nodded once and kept a firm hold on her hand. “I do want to keep you safe, of course. And comforted,” he added in a lower voice.

Brit needed to run to keep up with him. She countered, “But…Ethan.” He seemed to be speeding up. She ran along beside him and continued, “It was locked to others before and not to me. But now. Now, it is locked to me.” Ethan was almost to the steps and she ran again to catch him. Clasping his arm, she whined, “I cannot go get cookies!”

At her words, he turned abruptly and looked at her intently holding up a single finger to her lips. “There is nothing that you need that I cannot provide, Brit. Nothing.” His jaw clenched slightly, “Anything you can get while away from me, you can get the same or better with me.” Ethan’s voice dropped to a whisper as he caressed her cheek, “There is no need for you to be away from me.” Turning, he walked toward the steps again to their resting place. Opening the door, he let her walk in ahead of him. Following, he said softly, “And I want you close. So close. Everything else is secondary.” The door closed and did not re-open again for her.

So you face it with a smile

There is no need to cry

For a trifle's more than this

After two weeks, Ethan was far from running out of stories. On the contrary, he found that he loved reminiscing and knew that Brit was interested in from where he had come. Ethan enjoyed Arles in 1888. The artist community that thrived during that year brought enlightened, lively conversation among witty, clever, and talented people who wore bright colors. Ethan smudged the deep blue kohl around Brit’s mossy green eyes and stood back appraising his work. “Van Gogh,” he told her, “used to drink absinthe in the Hôtel Restaurant Carrel in the Rue de la Cavaleirie when he was not crying over some love lost to a prostitute.” He went on to describe how odd it felt to him to view the old Roman Arena and remember when such were used, or to touch the medieval gate and remember it new.

Brit loved when Ethan talked of times gone by. She could not imagine her husband frequenting parties of artists and writers. Similarly, she could not imagine Ethan in many times of his life. Among the more perplexing were his descriptions of the fall of Constantinople and the Crusades. Also confusing was his role in seeking those who acted against God: The power of the demonic influences was lost on her. Brit loved his descriptions of when he first heard a truly modern pipe organ or saw a man-made object fly.

Ethan noticed that Brit seemed more focused on the changes of culture and inventions than politics and war. Getting a bit of midnight blue to darken her outer eye corners, Ethan dabbed carefully noticing the enhancement to the whites of her eyes. So perfect, but fragile, he thought. Brit was such a precious gift, but her fragility caused Ethan more concern with each passing day. As his brush stroked on color, Brit looked up at him and he paused as if caught in a spell. The brush slowed. She was his to love and to protect. Brit was his wife, he thought. Ethan’s lips parted and he blinked feeling God would wish what he was thinking. The brush touched her eyes gently and Ethan knew that Brit would never age another day; and God would approve else he would never have brought her to him.

Will you still recall my name

And the month it all began

Will you release me with a kiss

To be sure, there was much to consider. He finished painting her face and turned it left and right slowly. Perfection was important when one was meant to never change again. Ethan’s fingers ran through her hair and he examined the ends to ensure they were perfectly trimmed. Moving her hair to behind her shoulders, his fingers ran over her neck. To heal the bite mark or not? In turning her, their reason for being was no longer important, but his vanity admitted to enjoying them on her throat. Unable to resist, he bent his head to feel them with his lips. His fangs lengthened and he could feel her pulse throb beneath her skin. No more sicknesses, Ethan thought. No more worries, he reassured himself feeling his fangs rub her bites.

Brit’s head tilted at the touch of his fangs. One hand went behind her head and another gathered around her and pulled her securely against him. Breaking the skin, the small crimson drops welled and he tasted her sweetness. How would her blood change, he wondered? His fangs teased open her bite marks allowing the blood to trickle into his mouth. Sweet, like candy. Closing his eyes, he enjoyed the flavor and closeness. He had all night. No need to hurry, he said to himself. Brit’s arms went around him and her fingernails caressed his back. Fingernails, he remembered. Healing the wounds, he pulled away to examine them. Smiling up at her, he leaned and carefully licked the wounds healing her bite marks completely.

Have I tried to draw the veil

If I have - how could I fail?

Did I fear the consequence

... dazed by careless words

Cozy in my mind

Using the cosmetic file, Ethan ensured that her fingers and toes matched and were filed to pristine perfection. Beauticians, he mused, should be the most learned theologians as they had so much time to muse. As he filed, he thought of changes she would have to learn. Feeding. His chylder learned quickly enough, he thought, which was good as she had become such a wanderer. What if the same happened to Brit? Could she survive and feed? To be sure, she had no issue drinking from him but who was to say she could partake blood from others. His eyes flashed crimson at the thought, but he had to come to terms with the concept that drinking from other sources may mean survival.

Also, if he had to leave town for a while, who could care for her? She would be a fledgling. A chylder as well as his wife. So loved. Would an enemy target her? Ethan was not so naïve to not know that answer. Plus, in his world, he really should ensure there was approval to insure she would be protected without him. At one time, Nikita could have been a reliable back-up, but she had not been seen in months. Pieter would tend to Brit, if needed, but Ethan was unsure he wanted to risk the exposure to what Brit would see in the Pit. As for Omega, there was also risk of unwanted exposure. Ethan took a deep breath and let his mind refocus. Perhaps turning her was not the best plan. Yet.

Chorus: I don't mind

I think so

I will let you go

Now you shaped that liquid wax

Fit it out with crater cracks

Sweet devotion- my delight

As the pendulum swung the other way, Ethan pulled her to him again. He loved to drink from her and had grown to anticipate the taste of her blood. Metallic after she ate mushrooms. Salty after seafood. Sweet after cookies and such. But it was more refined than the obvious. Her moods and biological responses also flavored her blood. Again, he wondered whether Brit’s blood would change so if she were like him. Ethan’s mind wondered as he kissed her hand again before gathering her hair and starting to brush it. He made a mental note to order strawberries coated in a rich layer of pure dark chocolate.

Another kiss of her hand, Ethan slid a white chemise over her head and remembered his earlier thought: Brit would not age another day. There were two ways to achieve such things. Perching on the side of the desk, he rolled up his sleeve. Brit watched how his hair framed his face. Seeing her glance, Ethan gave a playful wink and brought his wrist to his mouth breaking the skin. Shifting, he pulled her to where she sat between his legs and held his wrist to her mouth. “Drink.” Her mouth felt warm against his wrist as she drank from him. He felt her body respond to his blood down to the strengthened heartbeat. Pulling her head back to the edge of his shoulder, he watched the pulse under her skin and felt her drink wondering whether she found his taste as intoxicating as he found hers.

Oh, you're such a pretty one

And the naked thrills of flesh and skin

Would tease me through the night

Ethan kept his wrist to her mouth. He knew she did not require so much, but wanted to share of himself with his wife. Brit was his wife. His eyes darkened at the recent interference of so many friends. Deep within, Ethan knew Brit’s friends meant well. Those such as Joah. Kissing Brit’s temple, he noticed that she had stopped drinking. How dare Joah tell him that he was wrong in his choices regarding his wife! Ethan licked his wounds and continued to think. If Joah were not bad enough, Omega also started to question his choices regarding Brit. Flexing his wrist, he struggled to keep his talons in check. Rage welled up within and, with a sudden animalistic growl, he quickly transitioned Brit to laying back on the desk and hovered his fangs over her throat. Again the thought to change her. Make her more like him. Give her a life-long connection.

Ethan’s body trembled causing Brit to look over to him in confusion. She could not see his face or his red-glowing eyes. He longed to drink deep of her. To feel her crumple and revive her while he held her. His. She would be completely his then. His fingers shook as he drew her near and scratched her throat with the sharp tips. He could hear her heart dare him to drink. The angry energy of being questioned caused him to growl as he quickly pushed her to the desk. Brit’s look of surprise gave him a brief pause. Rather than seeming alarmed, she relaxed back looking up to him and her sense of calm soothed him. Rather than finding brick to destroy, his talons stroked down her body ripping and moving the fabric aside. A slight screech of metal on glass could be heard as he leaned over her and kissed her tummy. Soft caresses yielded a tranquil feeling as he sought, selected and sank his fangs into her skin and drank.

"Now i hate to leave you bare

If you need me I'll be there

Don't you ever let me down"

..dazed by careless words

Cozy in my mind

He felt her body respond and enjoyed the way the taste of her blood changed as he drank. It was a struggle to drink slowly. It was a greater struggle to stop. Ethan’s talons retracted and his eyes became normal again but still he drank miniscule sips. Each sip, he knew he would care for God’s creation. With each caress, he knew he would protect his wife. Brit’s fingers entwined in his hair as she felt her fingers and toes grow colder. Still he drank until her heartbeat quickened. Even then, he kept his fangs embedded in her without pulling more blood.

Brit’s breathing was the only sound in the room. Ethan removed his fangs once he felt himself again. Music played close by. He knew that she would never let him down, but he also knew that she would never be parted from him. Ethan’s body ground against Brit’s as he kissed her lips. Giving her a soft caress, he bit her neck again returning her bite marks.

Chorus: : I don't mind

I think so

I will let you go

No, Ethan thought. He would never let her go. Picking her up, he laid her back on the coverlet of their resting place. It had been two weeks, but Ethan had no desire to leave the room. He had all that he needed in the room and could requisition anything Brit needed to be delivered.

And I touched your face

Narcotic mind from lazed Mary-Jane

Brit felt Ethan's fingers again on her face. He had arranged for Annika to bring her food, but she was content subsisting on his vitae. “You will eat properly tomorrow, Brit,” Ethan whispered. Not tonight, he thought.

And I called your name

Like an addicted to cocaine calls for the stuff he'd rather blame

It had been two weeks. And Ethan noticed that Brit did not seem to care whether they stayed in. He wondered if she could endure watching a sunrise on a DVD one frame at a time.

And I touched your face

Narcotic mind from lazed Mary-Jane

If someone had asked, Brit would have been surprised how much time had passed. Cold, tired, and content is all she felt and so she rested.

And I called your name

My cocaine

While she rested, Ethan thought again of those who meant so well and knew that none could care for his wife as he could.

Chorus: : I don't mind

I think so

I will let you go

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jsj-37UrxeM

A Handful of Pebbles

((Taken from RP))

Sitting by the water, Ethan picked up a handful of pebbles offering half to Brit along with a sweet kiss. He settled her back against him listening to her babble about the Shelter while he had gone to rest. “The kitty brother and sister are sweet. Though, they were so frightened of Gwyn last night and still asked if I needed protection.”

Cocking a brow, Ethan asked, “What do you mean frightened of Gwyn? Did anything happen that made Gwyn look like a threat to you?” His next pebble flew quite a distance before hitting water indicating that his mood hand ceased to be relaxed. “You do mean Gwyn from the Coven, correct?”

Brit nodded and started to explain. “Last night, Merma, Poncho and Gwyn were having milk and cookies. And suddenly Gwyn seemed sad.” She mused for a moment and added, “She was sad after seeing a picture of Nikita and Pieter. Then…the kitties came…and Poncho and Merma left…and Gwyn went outside.” Brit stopped often trying to get the events exactly right. Ethan stroked her arm and listened patiently. Nodding, she continued, “Gwyn conjured a storm I think…and the kitties were scared. Mya and Son. I think it was just Gwyn having a hissy fit over the picture, but I do not know why.”

Blinking, Ethan recreated the scene in his mind. “But she has never seemed to act vengeful toward you. She just seemed to grow angry or upset about that picture?” Brit nodded and Ethan said, “Most curious.” Ethan looked to the toxic water for a while and seemed to relax. “Okay, Brit. I will not need to speak with her then. I do hope you were not upset that the kitties grew frightened.”

“Kitties seem to scare easily,” Brit lisped. She dropped a pebble watching the rings spread from where it dropped in to the water. “Ethan, I think something happened to Gwyn. And I think she is a little like Nikita in her magic.” Snuggling against him, she said, “I am out of cookies. And the rain spotted my nightgown.”

Ethan started to respond about the kitties, Gwyn, and Nikita’s magic. He blinked yet again and threw another pebble further than normal. Looking puzzled, Ethan asked, “Why would your nightgown get rain spots on it? Did it rain in our resting place?”

Brit explained that the rain was blowing through the door of the shelter and Ethan remembered seeing the splatters on her white slippers. He blinked again as he dropped more pebbles and pulled her closer protectively. “You were outside of our resting place in your nightgown? Downstairs…at the entrance, even?” She nodded and he felt his jaw muscle flex slightly before kissing her forehead. His voice was calm when he continued, “Baby, I do not think it is proper for a lady to be up and about in her nightgown. Nightgowns are reserved for our resting place and for the viewing pleasure of your husband alone.”

Brit dropped a few pebbles into the water as she thought of what he had said. “But….Ethan, my nightgown covers me like a blanket almost.” She mused about the length and continued, “It has more layers than my dresses and covers my legs and wrists.” She did not understand the differences. “Merma liked the bows you put in my hair.”

Ethan nodded, but clarified, “Brit, I know that it covers more, but it is a nightgown. It is not intended by its maker to be worn in public or on streets. By using it differently than its true purpose, its role as an item was not respected.” He took a few of her pebbles back and dropped them in the water silently. After a moment of silence, he said, “And I do not want you in nightgowns in the midst of others. It is not about how revealing or not it is.”

Brit puffed her cheeks and cuddled against him. Her voice was a soft whine, “But what if I want some cookies after you rest?” She tossed a pebble in the water after his and watched the ring. Finally, she asked, “What is its purpose?”

Ethan replied calmly, “The nightgown is to wrap my love up in a package that I would consider attractive to unwrap her from. So, if you get hungry or thirsty at night just make your way to the kitchen quickly. And return quickly. But do try to remain undetected.” Peeking down to her, he grinned picturing her tiptoeing in her white slippers.

Stammering, Brit asked, “In my nightgown?” More pebbles dropped in the water. She mentally made her plan to raid the refrigerator. She would move down the hall quickly and continue down the steps. Once there, she planned to grab the milk and cookies and run back.

Nodding normally, Ethan gestured, “In your nightgown, perhaps throw a little jacket or something over your shoulders. Just so you do not catch a cold in the middle of the night.” He pressed her body against his side and kissed her cheek. “Just like a good girl,” he said low. “My good girl,” he clarified.

Brit repeated back to him, “So, I wear my nightgown but hide from people. And wear a jacket over it if I go get anything when wearing it?”

Ethan replied, “Well, not quite hiding, but just remember that it is something you should not wear when you know that you will most likely encounter someone.” Watching his wife, he paused searching for an example, “Brit, the nightgown is pretty, but I would not have you wear it when we go out to dinner with my friends in Vienna, for example. As I said, it is for my personal viewing pleasure. Just as I am the only one who is allowed to peel it from you skin.”

Turning to him, she giggled as she pressed her palms against the ground to kiss him. She rubbed her nose against his and said, “You are the only one who can take my clothes off.” Kissing lightly, she added, “I remember..” With a bit of processing, she mused, “Nightgowns are a little bit like underwears and not for anyone but you to see.”

Nodding several times, Ethan gave Brit a soft kiss on the lips whispering, “Exactly.” His palm ran down her cheek to her neckline and a bit lower to the side of her body. “I am glad that you understand now.” Picking up another pebble, he dropped it in the water near to them. She dropped one beside it. They watched the circles entwined as they spread until the circles reached the shore.

Wants & Needs

Ethan kicked the door of their resting place open and deposited a marginally-sentient Brit carefully on the plush fur rug. His demeanor could be described in one word: Irritated. Every little thing about the evening added another thorn in his side. After checking Brit’s pulse, Ethan punctured his own wrist and poured vitae into her mouth forcing her to drink before he sat back to muse how one evening could go so wrong and still end up fine.

When they woke, Ethan had taken Brit for a romantic walk along the beach. He felt it was time she observed more behaviors in others outside of their small circle. When they arrived to the beach, they first encountered a couple who were playfully sparring with swords. Ethan wrapped his arms around Brit and smiled while they both watched. When the male “captured” the female, Ethan was sure that Brit would see playful romance as the girl negotiated for her release. Rather than angel-kissed promises, the girl dropped to her knees and greedily unzipped the man’s pants using other oral skills. Seeing the questions start to form silently on her lips, he refocused her on other people nearby.

Among the others, Pieter told him of news in the city. Blueray and Picket were also there and handed an invitation for both Brit and Ethan to attend their wedding. Weddings would be an ideal setting for Brit to observe others, Ethan mused, if the wedding couple were not demonic in nature. As the happy couple rambled, images of mutual defilements on the ceremonial alter graced his thoughts. At the mention of the wedding activities, Ethan had troubled thoughts at merely considering what ingredients would actually be in the wedding cake. As Brit bounced over the idea of the wedding, Ethan tried to remember a demonic ceremony where people did not either end up naked or sacrificed. He would discuss with Pieter later.

Brit had to take her bicycle to the garage to get the brakes checked. Promising to follow her there, Ethan watched her peddle off as he wrapped up his conversation. When he arrived, members of the garage’s motorcycle gang were typically hanging out. However, rather than hearing loud music, seeing impromptu fighting, and smelling the thick scent of alcohol, he witnessed one crying for her family, another looking for a lost puppy, and a many others acting what was unconventional for people who live on a wild edge. He saw Brit wheeling out a vintage 1950’s Harley-Davidson. A light blue creampuff of a bike that looked as if it was never ridden but had simply been worshipped and gently polished daily with a diaper.

The atmosphere grew more chaotic as more of the gang’s behaviors seemed bizarrely altered as was his usually compliant wife. Brit made it clear that the motorcycle was hers and that she wanted it. It mattered not that she did not know anything about motorcycles. Concerned he sat on the back of the motorcycle until he realized that she was looking for peddles like one would find on a bicycle. Leaving her to flip levers and honk the horn, he slid off to watch the growing confusion. Joah appeared and questioned Brit’s purpose with the bike. He had no answers but tried to explain what he knew. Without warning, the motorcycle engine roared and lurched forward. Brit tumbled off the back as it zoomed ahead crashing into the bricks and caused sparks to fly while it scraped and screamed down the sidewalk on its side depositing paint and parts for a block.

Ethan and Joah ensured Brit was fine before assessing the damage of the prized antique and oddity of the crowd. Brit returned to the garage to find another motorcycle. After all, she had been told by one of gang that she was welcome to any that she liked. Joah followed Brit back into the garage after Brit casually discarded the second bike on the sidewalk and had returned to get one that better matched her outfit. Ethan observed the pattern of his wife who seemed to crave immediate gratification over any desire. He returned to Brit and tried to coax her off of the bike. While talking to her, he felt Joah’s arms slide over him prior to wrapping around his waist. Joah’s words reflected her actions. In addition to Brit’s demands and Joah’s exploration, Deb arrived to lament the demise of her precious Harley that continued to lay in pieces along the road.

Tempers were escalating and Ethan checked his guns before telling Joah that he and Brit would love to rest with her in the library. Joah giggled girlishly and let him drag her as he walked toward the north part of town while carrying Brit who seemed to want anything and everything that caught her eye. Once they reached the library, Brit demanded kisses while Joah flopped on a pillow waiting for the offered three-way “rest.” Ethan struggled to juggle both women and was thankful when Grr arrived. Joah’s interest immediately diverted by telling Grr that Ethan did not live up to what was offered. Grr was gentlemanly enough to compensate which seemed to placate Joah.

Ethan finally had opportunity to observe Brit without distraction. He knew it was only a matter of time before some would seek him to discuss the motorcycle carnage left behind. Brit returned his focus. Kisses were demanded and, when not given immediately, Ethan could feel Brit become agitated when there was not instantaneous compliance. To keep her calm, he gave her the kisses that she demanded and was sure she would be content. Once one demand was sated, another took its place. Minutes passed and Ethan found himself pushed back on to one of the cushions in front of the library fire with Brit practically melted against him. The kisses grew longer and deeper limited only by her need for breath.

Surreal, he thought. Joah and Grr were making out on the cushion next to them. Others had entered the library. None of it mattered to Brit as she pressed harder to feed her wants, which escalated her desires and, which each increased desire, a new demand was issued. More kisses. Deeper kisses. Ethan was unsure how her focus would change. He heard Brit say, “I…I want a feather. I want a feather now.” Lorne had come to the library as others had produced a feather and offered it to Ethan. Ethan did not take time to consider his bias of conjured items and nodded his thanks as he gave Brit the feather. She started to drag it over her skin before dragging it over Ethan’s neck. “I want bites,” she demanded.

Ethan heard her words while realizing people had been watching. Surreal. The word came to him again. Joah and Grr were still making out. Brit told him again, “I want bites.” Her tone clearly indicated that she thought they should have already been delivered. Pulling Brit away slightly, Ethan encouraged her to move to a darker corner. Rather than her usual compliance, she grew more insistent. Others questioned the move, and Ethan felt his mood darken. “This,” he thought, “had to be what it felt like to have a drunk date at the prom.” Unwilling to put on a show for the masses, he pulled Brit in and sank his fangs hard into her throat. She purred as her demand was met.

Ethan drank deeply, unwilling to wait for her next demand. Time, he thought. He needed time. He could feel her energy level ebb as he took more than he usually did and kept tabs on her heartbeat as she crumpled against him. Paler while he now looked more human. His fingers trailed over her face knowing that he would share of himself later and she would be better by morning. Nerissa entered with a handful of burning herbs and Joah immediately started to become more her old self. Brit lay like a sack of flour in Ethan’s arms resting. Picking her up, he took her home. Once there, he ensured she drank of him and pulled her so that her head rested on his thigh.

He was irritated. His fingers caressed her hair and he thought of how he would have reacted to such a night a year ago. The couple on the beach might have gotten them killed for behaving so sleazy. In his younger years, a demonic gathering of any kind would have surely had his company. He glowered at the memory of Deb swearing toward Brit with cause, and found himself growing angry at Deb’s actions even as he rationalized it easily. Then there was Joah all but rubbing against him. Many had died for less. His fingers caressed Brit’s skin. Then there was his beloved who had behaved with a child’s demands and a woman’s desires. In that memory, Ethan grinned and found that, as much as he wanted to be, he was not irritated anymore. With a chuckle, he wondered whether the years were mellowing him.

Feeling the sunrise near, Ethan wedged the door to make sure Brit could not leave before he checked her over; and then he pulled her close falling dormant and realized that he was more exhausted than he had felt in years.