Time to April 24th

[captainryan]

River’s reading on the sunseat in Ryan’s flat today, not unusual. The werewolf steps up silently behind her, also not unusual. She’s reading the same book as she was yesterday, slightly unusual, and staring at the exact same page. He can tell by the picture.

Very unusual.

“What’s so interesting about that plant?”

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[hell_in_highheels]

Her eyes close and there's a look of soft wonder on her face. Her breath is coming shallow and quick, her heart pounding in her chest. She swallows and her lips part slightly.

She's remembering the woods at night. The bloody haunch of flesh and fur and bone. The feel of the wolf's breath on her face. The resonance of his howl in her chest and head.

She exhales and opens her eyes again. I want to hunt with you.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

She couldn't have said anything better.

He just looks at her again, studying, searching, for what he's not sure. Some sign that she truly knows what she's getting into.

But in the end, he just has to trust her.

The corner of his mouth twitches up ever so slightly as he pulls her into a fierce hug. "All right.

Please don't let him regret this.

[hell_in_highheels]

The air goes out of her lungs again, this time from the strength of his embrace. She clings to him, shifting to press her face against the side of his neck. Her hands fist in his shirt and eventually wind around his neck, pulling him down to her.

Her mind is racing, her chest aching. She thinks perhaps, in this moment, her feet aren't quite touching the ground.

Right now, she just wants to breathe in his scent and feel his arms around her, holding her close.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Her reaction sends a thrill through him, truly, and his smile broadens a bit as he buries his nose in her hair. His heart's pounding a little faster than usual, from anxiety or excitement he's not sure. Probably both. To say he's already wondering if he's making a mistake would be a lie; he's been worrying about that since he first found her note.

Agreeing to her request has done nothing to alleviate it, but he can ignore it for at least this small moment.

[hell_in_highheels]

She pulls back just enough to look into his face, her palm coming to rest on his cheek. Her eyes search his, and she's biting her lower lip.

"I passed my research on the recorder back to Ray, today. He's going to finish the tricky bits."

She strokes his face, leaning forward just enough barely touch her nose to his before retreating again.

"I didn't want -- any distractions."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

She's been planning, he can see.

"A distraction might have been good," he admits a bit wryly, pushing against her hand. "The smells can be overwhelming at first.

[hell_in_highheels]

"Tell me," she says, leaning forward, nuzzling his cheek. Her breath feathers over his lips. "I want to hear you tell me. I'm tired of reading about it second hand."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"Hearing it from me is still second hand," he points out, smiling.

Then he frowns a little, thinking. "It's...everything. Who a person is: male, female, young, old, human, not. It's who else they've spoken to, what they've eaten, where they've been, how they feel. There's more Intel every time the Door to the bar opens, if you bother to sort through it.

"And that's just the people."

[hell_in_highheels]

She leans in close as he talks, her hands holding to his, her gaze intent.

"You said you could smell silver. How is that possible? And what does it smell like?"

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"Everything has a scent, unless it's a computer sprite. Metals are more subtle, but I've had a few years practise working with them. Copper doesn't smell so much like blood as everyone would have you think.

"Silver, though, silver is...spicy, almost. A little irritating. Have you ever smelled something that's jalapeño flavoured? It's a bit like that, where it sticks in your nose and makes you want to sneeze."

[hell_in_highheels]

She wrinkles her nose in sympathy. "Black pepper." She grins, her imagination running ahead of her. "Mmm, I want to smell iron. And glass, and wood."

"I want to smell you," she smiles.

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"You already do that," he laughs quietly.

The worry is still successfully being ignored.

[hell_in_highheels]

Her nostrils flare and she beams at him. "Not like this." Her eyes go wide for a moment, her pupils dark.

"Did you realise you were infected? How did it feel?"

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

That sobers him up nicely.

"I knew," he says quietly, the flatness returning to his tone. "Nothing else would explain a mortal chest wound healing over the way it did." He falls silent for a moment.

"It felt...good. Fantastic, really, with quite the energy boost."

And stuck tied to a chair most of the damn night with Sam trying to talk to him.

[hell_in_highheels]

She reaches up to touch his cheek again, drawing his eyes back to hers. "Love, I know you didn't want this, that it chose you and not the other way around. I don't want -- I'm afraid you'll despise me because I'm choosing this, and you never had a choice."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He shakes his head slightly, stubble rubbing against her palm.

"As long as you know what it is you're choosing, I have nothing to despise."

And if she decides later on that he didn't explain it clearly enough, he has only himself to blame.

[hell_in_highheels]

She tilts her head to one side, regarding him with eyes far older than her face. She speaks with great care, trying to assuage his fears, and perhaps her own.

"I think that what I am choosing -- is different from what you believe it is. Yes, the destination is the same, but the journey is far different. I've lived a life far stranger than most, and then, an afterlife, similarly unusual in depth and breadth. The unknown does not frighten me. Violence, savagery, even death does not frighten me."

Her voice grows quiet as she looks down at their clasped hands.

"Being alone? That frightens me."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He forgets how old she is sometimes.

"Not going anywhere." It's not the first time he's told her.

"Certainly not because you develop a taste for raw meat."

[hell_in_highheels]

She doesn't look up but he can smell her amusement, and something more. The barest hint of wonder and longing. "I didn't intend to upset you. May I at least explain to you why I wanted you to see the model?"

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

He purses his lips. "I can only assume you all only ever find my when I'm well fed. Whenever I run into a werewolf, they're always trying to eat me, not standing still and looking pretty."

He grumps because he cares.

"But go on."

[hell_in_highheels]

This time she does look up, one eyebrow raised. "So I'm not the first, then."

"Not pretty, Richard. You're magnificent. You..." She pauses, licking her lips, trying to find the right words again. "You crouched down, made yourself small for me and you were still eye to eye with me. And you were so happy to see me."

Her hand comes up, resting the back of her fingers against her cheek. "You washed the fear scent off my face. I nuzzled your chin, and you took my nose between your teeth, so gently."

River looks up into his face, searching his eyes. "I wanted you to see the model -- so you could -- share that with me, somehow."

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

"I never said otherwise." He doesn't like it when people he cares about put themselves in danger by going out to play with a werewolf.

He shifts his feet slightly, settling by bumping up against her and trying to wave it off by saying, "That was just...me being alpha."

[hell_in_highheels]

"Oh?" She knows the term from the books, but it's the first time she's heard him use it. "Tell me more?"

[captainryan.livejournal.com]

Experience with Deitmar has taught him he must be careful when explaining this sort of thing.

"You need to be okay. I worry."

[hell_in_highheels]

It takes her a moment to parse this simple statement.




She leans against him, her hands drifting back around his neck, pulling him gently down so that she can rest her cheek against his. "Don't worry, my love. Everything will be fine. You'll see."

Her hands stroke and caress his head and neck, trying to tell him with her hands everything her words can't.