Transition

[Saiketsu]

Those warm fingers pushed him just farther than he was willing to go on his own. Something electric ran through his nerves as her warm skin touched his - skin he, quite frankly, forgot that he had after so many years of not thinking of himself as a sexual being. His fingers lingered on the hooks on her back for a few moments as their mouths greeted each other again and again. They slipped, not entirely against his will, onto the clips and pinched them apart one by one. It took much longer than he had always imagined it would - after all, he had never actually contended with a brassere before - but there was nothing wasted between them. Rachel, knowing his clumsy actions, flexed her shoulders together to help him while her mouth drew more of Damien's attention away from his hands. When the first hook finally unclasped he couldn't stop a breath from escaping his lungs. There was a surge of blood and adrenaline and a million other different human reactions all at once that seemed to splinter and set off other happenings.

But when that last hook let loose and the elastic bands that kept the garment against her skin scrunched and fell away, Damien paused. There was a tension that he hadn't felt in a long time that bloomed in his stomach but leaked into his chest. As if in a dream and with as much speed, he smoothed the skin on her back where her bra had been. Something slowed his hands and filled him with a sort of bliss that he hadn't experienced in a very long time if ever at all. Her skin was warm and she shivered against him, the straps of the black lace falling loose, though not revealing any part of her chest unless she moved it herself. The gravity of the situation made him faulter from his kiss, but his eyes stayed shut and away from her body. Instead his hands travelled the length of her back as he whispered her name gently, only half-aware that he had done so aloud. 

[The Cedar Witch]

Her hand gripped his hip, her breath freezing in her lungs as he unclasped her bra.  A new wave of crimson pushed to the surface of the skin in her face.  As if seeking reassurance, her lips frantically moved against his.  Rachel made no move to slip the garment from her body, keeping her breasts covered for the time being.  Mostly she was self conscious of the hardening nipples beneath her bra, and then there was the whole 'how did I get half naked' thought, then the appreciation that she was in control of precisely when (and if) her clothing came off.

It was making her light headed with a mixture of excitement, arousal and a small bit of second-guessing. 

Pressing her body close to his, her hand traveled back up to grip his hair.

[Saiketsu]

There was a sound at the edge of his hearing that he recognized somewhere cognitively, but at that exact moment, he hadn't deemed it necessary to stop his kiss or his gentle hands across the plains of her skin. The sound continued despite his best attempts to focus on Rachel and her warmth and ate away at his attention until he paused mid-kiss and held Rachel tightly against his chest with a low shush. With the breath held in her lungs, her body reacting to his touch beneath his fingers, and the air so saturated with the scent of their arousals, Damien searched his memory for the source of the sound. It was a quiet noise, something Rachel would have never heard with her human senses. His eyes gazed around the room without seeing as he tried to pick out the noise, all the while it crescendoed, getting louder and closer.

When it struck him what exactly the sound was, his expression dropped and all thoughts of their activity left his mind in a panic. His grip tightened around Rachel as he focused on more information.

Throughout the years he had developed certain ways of knowing his children, finding the familiarities of their comings and goings to be a comfort. Now that there was an increased use of motor vehicles, he had become accustomed to the sounds of their cars when the travelled the long gravel driveway of the house on Alcott Road. This time it was Pierre whose red Nissan was heading up the driveway rather quickly, spitting out the rocks like bullets in his haste.

"Listen to me," he said intensely and with more concern than he had ever let slip to her before. He was in full-panic mode. To be caught on the couch with a topless young human Rachel, a human whom he had never portrayed any interest in around his children purposely, accompanied by the mixed scents of their arousals and the pile of clothing - his own buttons askew... no. That simply couldn't be happening to them right now. Not when they had finally found their comfort. His voice was low and serious, bordering a whisper despite the fact that Pierre could have only heard him at that volume if he were right outside the front door. "Pierre is coming up the driveway. Take your self and your clothes and go upstairs into your room. Quickly, Go!" He urged her but waited for her to move, looking at her with an expression that looked like a deer in the headlights of a large vehicle.

[The Cedar Witch]

The girl stiffened the instant he stopped kissing her and a rush of fear swept through her as he listened intently at the apparent silence.  For a second or two, several worst-case scenarios ran through her mind--including but not limited to a sudden intrusion of Laurent, which was a thought that she most definitely did not want to have in this exact moment.  Not while she was nearly topless, blushing, heart pounding with hot arousal.  No, not like this.  The thought was enough to keep air from entering or leaving her lungs as she stared wide-eyed at a space on the back of the couch.

As soon as Damien began to speak she felt a mixture of relief and panic.  Pierre?  Now?  Unexpected visits from Damien's fledge were not so out-of-the-ordinary, and it wasn't as though he had ever called to inform anyone that he was on his way.  After all, it wasn't like there was ever a situation that he shouldn't have been walking in on.  Not in a million years.  Of course he would come over without warning today of all fucking days.  That was her luck.  Her bright-shining fucking luck.

Fuck.

Self-consciousness fell on her like a dropping curtain and she began to regret having allowed her shirt to be taken off.  Rachel couldn't move, frozen by the abrupt switch from care-free to where-can-I-die-of-embarrassment.  Deer in the headlights couldn't even describe it.  For a few seconds she gaped at the vampire, mirroring his silent panic before making a move.  Frantically she fumbled at her back with one arm to re-clasp her bra, holding it in place with the other.  Stumbling off of the couch, she managed to hook one out of four before deciding that there was simply no time for this nonsense.  The human resorted to drawing her arms over her chest as she bounded like a startled gazelle up the stairs and into her room with a slam of the door.

[Saiketsu]

He glanced around wildly as she darted upstairs, listening for both the slamming of her door and the slamming of Pierre's car door outside. The only thoughts present were curses for his fledge and himself for doing such a childish thing in the middle of his living room. Damien was about to toss Rachel's shirt behind the couch, crumpled in a pile in front of the entertainment center, which still featured Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy looking distastefully at Elizabeth, when the door opened abruptly and Pierre stood staring down the hallway. "Damien!"

Cazzo.

There was a moment of pause that lingered far too long for the elder vampire. He knew that the instant that Pierre had opened that door he was hit in the face with the scents of arousal - both Rachel's and Damien's - while being greeted by an awkwardly ruffled Damien holding onto a shirt which was clearly not his own. He couldn't even imagine what was going through his mind.

"Oh," the younger said, astonished, to make matters worse. He spun without another word and closed the door behind him, embarrassed.

Guilt sprang to the forefront of his mind. Guilt, and anger, and worry. What had Pierre thought had happened? Did he think that he had seduced Rachel? Violated her? Betrayed her? Fucked her? Panic pushed him through the hallway and out the front door after him. "Jean-Luc, wait!"

But by then Pierre had already opened his car door back up and sober-faced, was trying to return to his seat. His expression was both confusion and shock. "No, I've interrupted something. I'll leave."

"Pierre wait," he demanded in his panic.

"No. I should have just called first. I'm sorry, I just thought - "

"It's not what you think it is,"

"Nope, I think it's exactly what I think it is."

"Pierre."

"Good!" The shock seemed to be wearing off and a hint of laughter bubbled up, to Damien's horror. "You should get laid!"

"Jean-Luc!" Anger flared in his chest now. "I wasn't getting... it's not what... I'm not - "

But Pierre had put his hand over his sire's mouth as he rambled for an explanation. "Ok stop. What, you think I haven't been around you when you were aroused before? You think I don't know what this is?" If he had been human, Damien's face would have flushed. Instead he pushed Pierre's hand off of his mouth more violently than he meant to. No one was supposed to know this about him. No one. Not even Rachel. Now Pierre knew. Now Pierre knew that he had awoken after centuries of chastity and loyalty.

"We were just kissing," he blurted out, suddenly feeling like a teenager who was caught by his parents.

"Why?"

"Why, what?" Damien said confused and cautious.

"Guillaume," Pierre started, throwing an arm around his sire's neck. With Pierre so close to him, he couldn't help but be aware of his own hardness which he had heretofore done nothing about. Damien tried not to think about it but found that difficult as Pierre's lecture continued. "I know that you still have this... thing for Lucretia. She's your sire, your first lover, and the center of your world. I get it. But she's gone now," Pierre tried to say as kindly as he could. Damien, still in a panicked mode remained silent to try to understand what was going on. "I'm just surprised that this hasn't happened sooner, you and Storm."

"What?"

Pierre laughed. "You two have been so obvious for months now. It was killing us to see you two denying it. We were about to start taking bets."

Damien, still not fully comprehending what Pierre was saying, "What? Pierre, I didn't... I mean she and I were... Wait. Who was taking bets?"

He snorted a laugh. "Uhm, all of us. I'm pretty sure even Odessa knows what's up."

If he had the ability to, he would have melted into a puddle of embarrassment. So all of his children had known his feelings all along. Pierre, Jenella. Even Odessa and Nadia. He wanted to just go out into the woods and never see anyone's face again. There was that stupid human feeling again that had been so annoying lately. How appropriate, he thought hanging his head. He swore out loud in an old, forgotten language.

"Hey, relax, would ya? Look, we all think that this is the best thing that's happened for you in a long time. You're finally not all sour and bitter all the time. Every now and then you even smile."

Damien scowled and left Pierre's embrace. "So what are you even here for anyway? Now that you've -"

"- interrupted Pride and Prejudice, Mr. Darcy?"

Damien's scowl deepened. Pierre laughed before taking a moment to sober up.

"Actually, I received a call from someone I hadn't heard from in a while," Pierre said, avoiding his eye contact and choosing his words carefully. Too carefully for Damien's sake. Nikolai, he thought to himself, knowing instinctively that he was right. "Apparently there's something happening with the Oligarchy. Something has made the Mimic demons leave."

"Have you inspected this yourself?" His expression turned suddenly hard and anxious. Now he understood why he received no phone call first.

Pierre shook his head. "I just received this call before I came."

"And did Nikolai say anything else?" Pierre winced at the name and shook his head, saying nothing else. Now Pierre was the one back in child's shoes, talking to someone he knows he shouldn't have. "Ok. Put a watch on the Oligarchy. All of them. I want to know everything I can. I want to know if there are Mimic Demons there or not. I want to know why they left and when they return. I want to know when he learned this, how long it's been happening, everything. I want a list of activity."

"You want a tail on every Oligarch?"

Damien shook his head. They didn't have enough manpower for that sort of thing. "Just a camp-out. I'm not taking that coward's word to heart, but if anything has proves useful, I may start using his name again properly."

"Got it," Pierre said solemnly, returning Damien to a sense of authority. He was able to forget what Pierre had just interrupted until his son smirked and said, "I guess I'll leave you two alone then. Remember to go slower than you think you have to." With a wink and a soft grunt of pain, Pierre was in his car before Damien fully understood what he meant. The elder shouted his fledge's name as he pulled off down the driveway as his words brought on that awkward feeling again.

He locked the door when he stepped inside, picking up Rachel's shirt from where he had dropped it in his hurry to chase Pierre. The house still smelled like their bodies, though not as strongly as if they had explored each other fully. When he focused on it, he could hear Rachel's heart moving like a hummingbirds upstairs, undoubtedly curled up on the bed with her knees pulled into her chest. Damien climbed the stairs, opened the door and saw that this was indeed the case. Once he closed the door, he collapsed into a pathetic fit of ironic laughter.