Transition

[The Cedar Witch]

It had been an interesting collection of days since the night of the masquerade party.  Time seemed to slow down for the human after that night.  For the first time in a few weeks – since they had kissed that first time—she finally felt as though she could relax.  Well, minus the fits of butterflies and blushing if she thought about exactly how they got to this point.  Exactly where that left them wasn’t something they had talked about in detail yet.  Quite frankly, Rachel wasn’t in a hurry to define what kind of relationship they had.  She didn’t want to scare him away from it by putting a label on it.  For now, the human was content with this new affection between them.  This new kind of honesty.  Like she wasn’t living with a complete stranger anymore.

She couldn’t remember exactly how they had ended up in his room in those first few nights—there had been a great deal of kissing because of course this new feeling needed exploring.  They were spending a great deal of time like that, kissing and talking.  The first day after falling asleep in his bed, she was afraid of how he would be after waking up—fully clothed, of course—next to her after spending so long alone.  Rachel was too mindful of that, of what no longer being totally alone would mean to him.  The second he indicated that he needed space she would give it to him.  For now, she was enjoying the peaceful sleep she fell into every dawn and waking up in a firm but gentle embrace.  It wasn’t something that she wanted to give up. 

All of this was so new and so easy.  For the first time in a long time Rachel felt normal and enjoy all of the excitement that came with new experiences like this.  Without guilt.  She could finally enjoy herself without thinking about anything.  It was nice to just do without worrying about walking on eggshells and whatnot. 

Not to mention the fact that this was one of the first times that she had seen him really unwind since she had met him.  And that was saying something.

Tonight they found themselves sitting on the couch in the family room in front of Pride and Prejudice.  This was absolutely her favorite movie, but she practically knew it by heart—she didn’t really have to pay attention to know what was going on in the film.  After the first fifteen minutes of the vampire’s complaints on the film and her not-so-successful attempts at trying to silence him with playful kisses, the human’s interests had deviated from the television.

New and exciting, right?

[Saiketsu]

There was an odd sort of balance that had begun to develop over the past few days since their second kiss. To him, the thought of kissing her still brought a strange sensation of humor and confusion at how the whole thing had happened in the first place. His calm, cool, collected composure that left him as the king of ice and bad memories had been sloughed off by some new-found understanding of a kind of relaxation, the kind of relaxation that let his shoulders relax but one that his lack of knowledge on how to function kept his composure on a new carton of eggshells. Despite his best attempts at keeping things light, Damien found himself burdened with the struggle of trying to figure out what all of this affection really meant. Were they lovers? Surely not because the promise of love had never been muttered and no love had been engendered between them. Courting was too ancient of a tradition to apply now and he didn't have enough information about dating in the current age to relate this to anything of the sort.

So against his usual judgment, he let things go, and tried to maintain it's lack of identity. Instead, he tried to focus on just allowing himself certain things that had been forbidden not weeks ago: touching her skin, kissing her cheek, breathing in her scent. His motions forward were clunky and awkward, like a fawn walking around for the first time in the woods, and while Rachel was nothing but patient, he found it frustrating. Now that he had the stomach to tell her how he had been feeling for the past... how long was it again?... Damien couldn't help but feel that human sense of embarrassment when something he couldn't predict occurred.

That wasn't to say that he was all elbows and knees, like some teenager without guidance; most of this he had done before. But what Rachel didn't know was that he had never actually chosen his own affectionate partner - Rachel was the first person that he found whom he had feelings for before the other forced their love upon him. Unlike Rachel, Lucretia had chosen him and then forced her affection upon him and while the feelings he had towards his sire were still being mixed by all the new excitement in his heart, half of which was still reserved for his sire, still a part of him wrestled with the enjoyment of Rachel's company.

But of course Rachel knew none of this - or at least Damien assumed, and he hoped that he could keep it that way for a long time yet. After all, it wasn't as if he was miserable and faking it all, rather that he was as mixed as he was content about it all. For the first time in, well ever, Damien felt as though his ability to express anything was unhindered by the tightness of his tongue. As a result, he didn't care nearly as much when the English words that passed him by weren't as poetic as his heart would have let them be. After all, it didn't really matter at the moment.

It never occurred to him exactly how big the seat of the couch was until he found that he and Rachel could comfortably lay on it together side-by-side as they watched Pride and Prejudice. He had never read the book, but after living with Rachel for so long there really was no need. Thanks to his supernatural senses and the long hours during his days of pretending to be asleep while she sat watching the movie, Damien knew every word as well. When she suggested that they watch a movie together, he knew what was coming, but decided reluctantly to go with it because she had insisted cutely and he had yet to build up a charm against her human cuteness. So now, he lay there between her warm human body (thank God that he had fed recently) and the back of the couch, propped with a pillow on his side and idly watching the movie. Every now and then he would drop some sort of comment about the film, or imitate Elizabeth in a high voice that Rachel had never known him to have.

That was until her half-hearted threats and soft taps that were intended to make him stop ended up with the girl facing him in a deep kiss that put a fire in his blood that he had not felt in a very, very long time - and never with a human. Her skin, so hot beneath the clothing and not inches from him made his throat ache and his kiss deepen. As always, he found it difficult not to latch onto her warm lips as they kissed his tongue and teeth. His hands behaved thankfully and held tightly to her hips until his nails were stopped from harming her by the fabric of her shirt - he needed all the concentration he could get. It wasn't long before he could smell wisps of that delicate adrenaline that pumped blood through her faster into crevices he wasn't ready to acknowledge. The battle of his own body was brought to a steady halt as he put in his normal plans of distraction - loosening his kiss until she tightened it again, listening for cars on the road or in the driveway, counting the eyelashes on her lower lid. Making love to her was something that he couldn't possibly conceive of. Yet.

"You're not watching the movie," he cooed with a smirk as he pulled away from her at a human's pace. "You made me watch this movie with you and you're not even watching now."

[The Cedar Witch]

There came a point in there time together - lately - that things like this stopped taking her by surprise.  That wasn't to say that there was anything dull about kissing - it just wasn't terrifying or awkward or any of that mess that they had to deal with before.  The human's anxiety over whether or not the vampire was going to disappear at any given moment had given way to tending to own desires without worrying much over anything.  She didn't see anything wrong with settling into this new way of existing around him.  It was so refreshing - having the only tension in her frame exist through her anticipation coiled like a spring, itching for more opportunities to kiss, to touch, and whatever desires sent her pulse racing. 

The smallest things were setting it off now.

Like the tone his voice took on now that they were closer.  Certain glances, even without any implications of desire, from across the room.  Sitting and trying to do other things - like watching this movie - fully aware of how close he was to her.  Most days she existed with permanently flushed cheeks, sore from too many smiles by the end of the night, sore from adrenaline-laced blood pushing through her veins.

Exciting?  Definitely. 

It was so easy to have her attention fully absorbed by the pressure between their lips, the movement and taste.  It did not even occur to her to think of anything else, save what was presently happening.  Usually it wasn't until some time later that she would examine her actions, blush at how brash she had been but otherwise not worry.  After all, she couldn't really see what there was to worry about now.  There was only moving forward, at least from what Rachel could see.

Inwardly she pouted when he pulled slightly away, returning his smirk with her own small grin.  The laughed, fingering the fabric of his shirt.  "I am too watching the movie."  She looked up at him with an expression that feigned innocence and made a move to turn back over and 'watch' the movie. 

"I'm not forcing you to watch, you can go do something else if you want." 

[Saiketsu]

"Nope," he said humanly with a bit more emphasis on the last consonant than he meant, producing a very funny to their ears and a feeling in his mouth. "I'm quite comfortable here now. I was simply saying that you worked so damn hard to get me here to watch this stupid movie with you and now all you want to do is kiss me?" He smiled down at her, relishing how close his face was to her neck. "Maybe I wanted to watch the movie." He smirked and turned his head - not without a characteristically crooked grin on his cold lips that was a sort of smile for the vampire - and pretended to watch the movie in spite of her. His interest in other things, however, went undisclosed.

[The Cedar Witch]

The human smiled, snuggling back into him without responding to what he had said.  Personally, she didn't plan on watching the movie at all from when she first suggested it.  It was just a fabulous excuse to get him close to her for a long period of time.  Of course she wasn't about to say any of that, and she wasn't going out of her way to hide it.  She would, however, play along with the whole I'm-trying-to-not-really-watch-the-movie game.  For a few minutes she made herself pay attention to the film, trying to ignore the static that lingered in the small space between their bodies.  It was making her anxious to face him again.  Not that she didn't enjoy just being with him, but all of this was so new and so much more enticing. 

"I'm bored," she softly said after about ten minutes, a smile creeping back onto her face.  "And I can't pay attention to anything." 

[Saiketsu]

Damien rolled his eyes, his palms smoothing out the fabric on her waist, enjoying the heat that radiated through her shirt. Her human heat felt good against him and it wasn't until Rachel had announced her boredom did the vampire remember that he was trying to maintain some kind of control over his body. He had tried watching the movie quietly, but had ended up simply gazing with glazed eyes at the frame of the television rather than the images moving. Every now and then his attention would wander over to Rachel's breathing or heartbeat. When he felt her start to get figety, his hands smoothed over her arm and waist, but to little effect. Now she was bored and he couldn't help but feel as though something was building in the room, though he didn't dare try to examine it too closely for fear of what it would be.

"Oh really?" He said with a kiss to the side of her head. Damien secretly hoped that the human would turn back towards him so that he could see that look on her face that he knew was there.

[The Cedar Witch]

The sensation of his lips on her hair caused a small shiver to pass through her body.  She did turn, rather awkwardly much to her dismay.  Rachel faced him, attempting to keep some small amount of space between them for the sake of...well...not appearing too eager.  In the back of her mind she still had the suspicion that, with one wrong move, she would scare him off. 

"Yeah," she responded with a smile, her face moving forward toward his for a kiss.  The human was beginning to enjoy taking this kind of initiative.  It was almost like some kind of power trip, being able to freely express her desires and act on them.  Each moment of contact that she began filled her slowly with some kind of courage.  Courage to what ultimate action?  The girl wasn't about to explore that topic in her mind.  Not right now.

Rachel lightly pressed her lips against his, taking the time to enjoy the peculiar sensation of temperature difference.  Vaguely she wondered if that was something that would eventually cease to captivate her as they moved toward a new kind of routine.

[Saiketsu]

Her kiss didn't exactly take him by surprise; the mortal was far too slow for something like that as he sat there watching her face lean closer to his. Yet he could never truly prepare himself for what it felt like when her lips went towards his and that connection skewed every other thought. She was a warmth that spread over him and Damien became very much aware of all the exposed skin that was touching him - her hands on his ribs, that beautiful little neck that was so close to his lips now. But of course the most palpable, if such a word were appropriate, was her lips on his mouth and how content he was with having them there. True, those pesky little demons of the past tried to prod him away from her and remind him of his guilt and sadness. Lately, however, with the more that Rachel kissed him, the easier it had been to become simply... forgetful of such things.

He wasn't complaining. Instead he pressed against the warm, wet lips that found his. Blood was pulsing just beneath the surface of her skin, flushing until she was hot against him, colored dull pink. For a while, it felt as if it could flow into him, as if her lips could warm his and make him like-human again. He kissed her harder with a misguided and unquestioned desire for such a thing. For once, Damien wasn't ashamed of the feeling of his want for her and somewhere in the back of his mind it confused him. But now wasn't the time for such cognitive thoughts.

Now was a time for her heat and passion - shy but not exactly collected or reserved. Her mouth moved against his in a sort of fervor that he couldn't call delicate or innocent. It was wanting, not greedily, but expectantly and he couldn't say that he minded it. In fact he wanted it that way and kissed her deeper when she tried to withdraw for his sake. Before he knew it, he hand taken to eagerly fingering the bottom of her shirt. Once or twice his fingers slipped underneath the fabric and he nearly gasped mid-kiss when he realized what he was touching. His cold fingers skimmed along that v in her pelvis and withdrew as she sighed into him. Part of him almost wished to stop, but that part of thoughts was pushed too far away now. After a finger or two, he managed to slip his whole hand under her shirt, not greedily at first - just a hand flat on her skin, wrapping her hipbone that now jutted up towards the ceiling. It was all warmer than he could have ever imagined.

[The Cedar Witch]

It was far too easy to allow her mind to slip away from thoughts chattering incessantly in the background.  The human enthusiastically responded to the deepening kiss, matching him passion for passion.  She wasn't self conscious about this, save for a fraction of a second where she felt the need to pull back for a moment, judging his reaction, making sure he wasn't losing control of himself because she knew she was so much warmer and the last thing she wanted to do was to move too fast and lose all of this.

She wasn't ashamed at all, leaning into him ever-so-slightly at a pace that seemed extremely gradual and unnoticeable for a human.  There was a kind of urgency in her movements, as if she were trying to show him that she wasn't afraid of this kind of contact, of exploring this dimension of the physicality of this moment.  His hands were like an entirely new experience brushing across her skin, and although they had ventured there before this night it still caught her by surprise, her breath catching in her throat.  She struggled desperately against a moan, conscious of any sort of vocal acknowledgement of what was going on.  Instead of a moan she sighed through her nose as small noise pushed through the back of her tightly-clenched throat.

Rachel flushed furiously, pushing her lips against his with an embarrassed kind of encouragement--if there could be such a thing.  She could feel heat radiating from her body that felt even hot to her--she could only imagine how it felt to him.  Her body leaned into his hand as a kind of automatic reaction to his touch, and she did nothing to correct the lack of 'proper space' between them.  The fact that the movie was still playing in the background did not cross her mind.

[Saiketsu]

Unlike other times, her enthusiasm didn't discourage him and he would be astounded by this later when he examined this moment. But for now he enjoyed this passage of the wanting touch - her hips moved into him and his into her, his hand getting all the more daring than he was used to. If he had a heartbeat, it would have been pounding in his ears like Rachel's was. The motion and movement inside her body was getting to him now. Despite the lack of breathing he was doing, her scent seemed to permeate his very skin. Now, with all the blood rushing and adrenaline pumping inside of her, he could smell that unfamiliar smell, the one that almost pushed him to caution.

His fingers were slow and meticulous, wanting every inch of her skin to be explored like some foreign land. There was no rush in him, no harsh, unsteady movements that his partner could notice - just his lukewarm hands inching around her skin beneath her shirt. Whenever she gasped he paused, waiting for the intense desire to seduce her and feed to pass with the waves of her pleasure. But despite this, Damien didn't stop unless she told him to. His hands went along and his jaw quaked and for the first time in a while, he began to awaken. It was slow and made his movements stagger with the lack of familiarity about the situation, but he didn't stop. His lips were against hers and their parallel bodies were close enough now that he could feel her nipples harden against him as another wave rocked her. Without thought, he slipped the rest of his arm up into her shirt and pressed her closely to him - well, slightly closer than she had already been. He could smell her arousal and his mouth watered as she kissed him with her hands in his hair egging him onwards.

Before he knew, his fingers were touching the clasp of her bra, sliding underneath it. Damien's lips moved downward to her chin and down her throat. If she were paying too close attention - and he couldn't help but pray that she wasn't - she would notice that he wasn't unresponsive to the breath that caught in her throat as he very slowly and carefully went to pull up on her tight black shirt.

[The Cedar Witch]

Now she could not hold back a half moan, caught almost by surprise by how adventurous his hands had become.  She leaned closer against him, the passion in her lips ignited by the movement of his fingers under her shirt and the clasp of her bra.  Rachel wondered if he would push her away, conscious suddenly of what was going on, and she waited for this to happen with a kind of curiosity.  The soft moan that escaped past her lips felt so…satisfying vibrating against his lips on her throat.  When acknowledging this to herself she colored a deeper shade of red but felt no guilt otherwise by what she was feeling, by the arousal that ran rampant through her body at this point.

Her hands moved from his hair to his arms, gripping them slightly and feeling his muscles move beneath his shirt as his hands explored her skin. There was a kind of security there that she felt in keeping her hands there and feeling what his arms were doing.  It was not unlike the same kind of feelings of safety she felt when being in his arms, with the added heat of passionate contact.  Tentatively she moved her tongue against his lips, as if shyly requesting permission to go further. 

Rachel’s eyes remained lightly closed, as if opening them would somehow break the spell of this moment.  It was not something that she had wanted to end prematurely.  Not while there were still things to be discovered.

[Saiketsu]

Wisely, she drew his lips back in for another kiss before his jaw got away from him and decided to try to feed without his conscious decision. Her mouth was wet when he returned and their tongues clashed like school children on their first adventure towards becoming adults. He felt very much that way as he sat kissing her, trying not to dig his nails into the soft warm skin of her back that was too warm for him to handle. Her temperature was rising; he could feel it through her clothing. He became quietly obsessed with trying to touch her skin. At first, his hands trekked slowly in the same manner as they had getting beneath her clothing. As she reacted positively, the encouragement there was to continue at a pace minutely faster and he became very suddenly aware of one desire that almost made him pause.

So he acted upon it and began removing the shirt with a little bit more speed than he had started reaching under it. His mouth stayed safely with hers as much as it could as he let his hands slither over her and pull the garment completely off over her head. Damien watched the curtain of her hair fall down towards the ground beneath them and his gray eyes traced the outline of the human before him. Rachel's scent and a wave of warmth hit him in a way he never realized would, and he found it more enjoyable than many other things he had experienced within the past centuries. Without intention, he sat there staring at her, his hands on her bare waist, thumbing her skin. Her breasts were still kept from him by a thin bra and a sort of questioning pose as he touched her, kissed her again. He inhaled her scent deeply as she came back against him and the momentum of the situation made him kiss with more frevor. She smelled simply wonderful and the arousal that had amplified with the removal of her shirt did nothing to cure him of the hardness that was forming beneath his slacks. As long as he kept Rachel and this moment in the forefront of his mind, there would be no crippling sickness like there usually was, or no hatred of himself and his desires. There would be only himself and Rachel figuring out once again how their bodies worked.

Damien pressed himself into her at a human's pace with an eagerness that mirrored the human's. His lips, now warmed by her mouth, moved down her chin and to her throat while his hands drew some abstract patterns across her ribs and back, down into her pelvis which caused a mutual flare in their bodies. His lips lingered on her throat and his jaw quaked against it before he pulled himself to move onward and kiss at her shoulder with wet lips. Damien smirked and looked at her then and the expression on his face was that of someone who had just realized that the entire thing was reality, instead of just some pleasant dream before his lips were back to hers again.

[The Cedar Witch]

Her movements felt so frantic in comparison to his—or at least it felt that way to her.  As soon as another wave of self-consciousness hit her, she pushed the energy out through her lips seeking a kind of physical encouragement from him.  Rachel could feel the fabric lifting from her skin and pressed her waist against his before her shirt went over her head.  At that instant she could feel the pause lingering in the air between them and his eyes on her skin.  Rachel’s eyes fluttered open as her shirt went somewhere on the ground out of reach. 

She expected this situation to make her feel embarrassed or at least ashamed of her near-nakedness but she could find none of those feelings in her gut.  In their place bubbled urgency and desire, an ache to feel his lips against her newly-uncovered flesh.  She lurched against his hands as they flickered across her ribs and especially her back, waves of arousal pumping through her.  Unabashed she allowed herself to make small noises of pleasure in the back of her throat as his lips traced a path against her jaw, neck, and shoulder.  The desire for him to bite her surged suddenly in her mind simultaneously with a cautioning nervousness.

He was still a vampire.  There was a kind of danger in that.

Distracted by his lips and fingers, the thought moved from her mind.  When he pulled away for a moment, she took the time to catch her breath—something that he did not have to do.  Awkwardly she mimicked his expression, but was swept up in his returning lips before she had realized he had moved again.  Gently she moved away from him, taking a gulp of air as though she were coming up from beneath an ocean, and laughed.

“Hang on, I need to breathe.”  Her voice was heavy, body still quaking in response to his touch. 

[Saiketsu]

The pressure on his chest caught him off-guard and there was a split second where he thought he had done something wrong. He stared at her with the surprise of a young child suddenly denied his favorite toy and sent to bed before her words and labored breath caught up to his awareness. Damien smiled sheepishly at Rachel in a mild surprise. For a moment there he forgot that she needed to breathe.

He was caught mid-stride, his top hand still lingering in the back of her jeans where his fingers were a mere breath away from the cleft of her cheeks while his other - partially pinned by their current configuration on the couch - was entangled in her hair, edging towards her neck. Damien pushed himself away hesitantly in order to control himself and to give Rachel's lungs the ability to expand as necessary. His hands loosened their desperate grip on her skin and he made to shift himself away to give her as much space as she needed. He didn't, however, feel the need to leave her completely which was an uncommon thing for him. There was no sickness or painful tension or desire to run; he couldn't quite figure out why that was but he also couldn't bring himself to try. There was a tender sense of longing for her touch and eagerness, of boyish enchantment at her that kept his fingers itching at her while she gasped for breath. There was even a sense of panic that she would change her mind somehow and they would part for some time. The more he thought about this latter point, the more something inside him tightened.

That was until Rachel returned before he had the capability of worry, setting herself into her former position with ease and a calmed resolve and a small acknowledging "ok", a human signal that she was, after everything, able to breathe again.

"Sorry," Damien apologized almost inaudibly before willing his muscles to relax.

"It's ok," she said in a tone that made him feel rather foolish for apologizing to begin with, accompanying it with a short laugh. "I just couldn't breathe."

She settled in against his chest and played with on of the buttons on his shirt shyly. Damien kissed her forehead and ran his hand up her back in an attempt to provide comfort and reassurance that all was ok - only to have her shiver in a surprising wave of renewed arousal that made Damien react as well. Her back arched and she thrusted herself into him with an spasmic sort of expression of her pleasure. He paused and went to kiss her mouth as the wave of arousal slapped him again. He smiled through the kiss and their game continued very much the same as before.


"Call it luck." And just like that, the line went dead. Pierre looked at his phone just to make sure that the call had indeed ended and found only Nikolai's number, something that he had almost forgotten, flashing on the screen before it went back to a picture of himself and Jenella hugging with their heads together.

The Frenchman looked back up at the road just as he pulled up to a stop light, his gaze empty and his thoughts anxious. He was on his way home from Jenella's apartment on the north side of the city. The two had spent the night before feeding and making love, falling asleep in each other's arms like old time - with the tiniest exception being their altered routine of fucking thanks to Pierre's inability to move half of his body - until they had awoken and realized that it was time to get back to their other lives. There was still a fondness that he had for his fledge despite his lack of want of a partnership with her. They were what they were and they had always existed that way. Now, and for the past few years since he had been attacked, Jenella was the only person he could have sex with, due not only to her intimate knowledge of him but also because she knew about his wound and they had worked patiently around it. It had been a very sore spot for him to admit to her that he couldn't perform and that there was nothing he could do for x amount of years. He remembered that she had smiled at him and said nothing - like she typically did - and kissed him, working with his body to avoid his pain and bringing him closer to pleasure. The thought of that first time swirled longingly around in his consciousness as he felt the anger at Nikolai swiping every pleasantry from his mind.

The bastard had suggested that the Oligarchy was not only on its last legs, but falling apart as the seconds passed. He suggested that the Mimic Demons, for whatever reason, just up and left the damn city. That their idealistic fantasy of a peaceful world of openly protected and acknowledged vampire utopianism could finally exist without the Oligarchy in their way. That all Damien had to do was stand up and make himself known. The idea that such a structured government could fall so quickly - a matter of hours? days? - was simply too much to believe.

Yet Nikolai's words had made sense and had awoken something inside him that hoped for it all to be true. He felt anxious; maybe he should turn around and head towards Damien's house to tell him. Maybe he should just go home and think about just what the fuck Nikolai was saying. Maybe he should just call Nikolai back...

Pierre bit his lip as he sat at the light thinking about what he should do. Go back and tell Jenella? Head towards Damien's? Go down to the Oligarchy building himself to see if it were all true?

Then again Nikolai knew how to get this kind of information. For better or worse, it was his job and he was good at it. Why would he call him up after Pierre beat the shit out of him two years ago for nothing?

Why would he call him at all? Why wouldn't he just let Pierre and Damien and their lineage find out for themselves?

What if this was a just some fucking hoax and Nikolai was just waiting for their downfall as a final act of revenge?

There was a blare from the car behind him that snapped him back into awareness of himself. Panicked, his eyes darted around and in his mirrors to see a line of three or four cars glaring at him and honking their horns to get Pierre to go now that the light had turned green for more than ten seconds. There was only a second more hesitation in Pierre before he stepped on the gas and turned Camille towards Alcott Road.

[The Cedar Witch]

The shock of arousal seized her as his fingers brushed against the skin of her back and she let out a loud gasp.  As their lips met again, she found herself pressing her body against his without shame.  Her hands grasped at his shirt, clenching and releasing at intervals that matched the movement of their bodies.  In the back of her mind she wondered where this would lead, when he would stop this, how far her fingers could explore before she crossed a line.  The journey of his own fingers brought along encouragement, snuffing out thoughts of doubt and hesitation.  She shivered as he brushed against the skin beneath the clasp of her bra, silently willing him to undo the hooks.

Gradually Rachel moved one of her hands from his hair, the other remaining anchored and clenching at his dark locks.  One hand moved down the seam of his shirt, a single finger pressing against him and pausing, then moving downward still.  Finally she rested at his hip, pushing her lips against his more fervently, seeking some indication that it was okay to move on though she was unsure of the destination herself.  Her hand settled grasping his hip, flirting with the bottom hem of his shirt and the space of skin above his pants.  It was almost silly that she moved with such reserve.  After all, he had taken off her shirt.

[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.