Title: Unstoppable
Chapter 39
By Zeus and all of his children, this woman was marvelous. Still proud, despite having been used by untold multitudes. Still strong, despite the obvious deprivation she'd suffered - ribs evident under a thin layer of muscle and hips barely covered. A slave, like his Hephaestion. Not the lover he'd known from childhood but one he'd given that adored name to while the true Hephaestion led an army on the other side of the empire.
She could see in Hephaestion's eyes that he knew just how lucky he was. And when Alexander looked at him, there was pride and love in his silvered gaze. These two were quite a pair, and she considered herself fortunate to be able to see it. To participate, if only on the periphery. She was doubtless only a slave to them, which was to be expected. But they allowed her to witness them in their intimacy, which she suspected was a rare occurrence.
She did her best to suppress a wince when Alexander's hands pressed lightly into her hip. He'd hit a bone-deep bruise, and a flash of pain spread from the point of contact. The expression in her eyes was harder to control than the reaction of her body or the almost reflexive intake of breath, and she finally allowed herself to glance away. She did not want them to see the pain in her gaze, but it would take a minute to hide.
Tiny movement, so tiny another man wouldn't have noticed it but attention to detail was why he'd lived this long. And why he commanded the army bivouacked just outside of their tent. Alexander looked down to where his hand rested, his mouth compressing into a tight line as the livid colors assaulted his senses.
Yes, she was a warrior.
Yes, she was now a slave.
She had no say in who used her or how badly.
But he did.
"Cyrene, when we are done, you will walk the camp with me." Startled, wide-eyed like the doe he'd taken down that morning to feed his men. Her mouth soft in surprise and a denial ready to tumble past perfect teeth before he stopped those words with more of his own. "You will point out to me who touched you and how. Those who hurt you will be dealt with."
She tried to move away from him then only to be pinned to the bed by a hard thrust and Hephaestion's hands cupping her shoulders. "No arguments. You're mine. And I protect what's mine."
She stared at him in shock for a moment longer, then slowly nodded. "As you will," she murmured as her eyes dropped away from him again. As a slave, she ought to have no pride to be wounded, but she hadn't been a slave for that long yet. And she was ashamed of herself, that she had been so transparent as to show him she was hurt. She should be stronger than that.
And in a way, she was also ashamed to have come to Alexander with such damage done to her. It hadn't been her choice, but it was true all the same.
At the same time, it sent a tiny thrill through her to be claimed by him. True she was a possession and not a person, which rankled... but if she had to belong to someone, she would rather it be Alexander than any of the ruffians outside. She was also intrigued by the name he'd given her.
Cyrene.
She wondered if there was a story associated with it.
"Good," everything was understood now and they could return to the point of this exercise - their mutual pleasure. Alexander lowered himself just enough to find her mouth with his. While his whole body moved over her, warm kisses were scattered over his shoulders by Hephaestion. Never one to be left out, his lover created his own ways to be included.
Catching her bound wrists in one hand, Alexander kept her pinned to the pillows. The woolen carpet under one knee added a pleasant contrast to her soft skin, as did the length of linen half-wrapped around his right foot. Hephaestion's tunic, discarded earlier when they'd returned from the hunt, thrown there in haste as his young lover knelt and took Alexander into his mouth.
The first interlude of their day...
Having a name again made Cyrene smile; she felt a little more like a person and less like an object. Not that she thought anyone else saw her that way, but it was a comfort she allowed herself within the confines of her own mind. And the name was interesting. Nothing at all like the name of her birth, of course, but that had been stripped from her with her freedom.
When Alexander's mouth parted from hers, she looked up at him. Shimmering silver met deep, dark hazel, and she whispered, "You need not hold me, my lord, unless you wish to. I will not move, I give you my word." Aside from the lift of her hips to meet the downward drive of his, she meant. But in direct contrast to her words, her fingers curled downward to press very lightly against the back of the hand pressing her wrists into the cushion.
He did not have to hold her down, but part of her was enjoying it.
"Indulge me," hot breath across her cheek, clean-shaven skin rubbed against her own as he continued to hold her down. The shiver and bitten back moan was satisfying to the extreme. "Only while bound can you be truly free. No need to leash your strength, no fear that you'll hurt your lover by holding too tight... The last woman you took to your bed, did she please you... or did you spend the night afraid of hurting her?"
So hard not to whimper. Lex... Alexander could have been talking to him about this. Those were his fears. One false move, one thrust too hard and a world of pain rather than pleasure could result. Clark closed his eyes, burying his face in the curve of a warm shoulder. He wanted to be where Buffy was... wanted his wrists to be the ones tied and held in place.
"A little of both," Cyrene admitted softly. "I had to be very careful of how I touched her. There aren't many women who can stand up to me." It wasn't bragging, just a simple truth. Women as a whole were mostly soft, gentle creatures. She was one of the exceptions, the likes of which were uncommon though not unknown.
Alexander was right, though, in a way. Being bound meant she could let go of herself and depend on them to control her. But the freedom he spoke of was lacking. His was the viewpoint of one who knew when the encounter was over, the bonds would be cut and he would be his own man again. She didn't have that assurance, that choice. So being bound signified her status as a slave rather than giving her freedom from control.
"Someday I'll set you free... when you've earned my trust. For now... enjoy what I can do for you." Quick thrusts, staggered rhythm followed by a torturously slow roll of his hips. When she gasped, he kissed her again.
And while they kissed, a hand slid between their bodies. Warmer than either of them, broad fingers and soft palm. Alexander raised his head to meet Hephaestion's curious gaze. They met in the middle above her, mouths moving in perfect unison, seeking contact and communion.
Alexander had been his first. First man, first lover... only lover. There had been men who offered, who reached out to touch when they walked side-by-side through camp but the downturn of Alexander's mouth had always been enough discouragement. No one dared cross the general.
And he hadn't wanted anyone else.
Until now.
Had she the ability to do so, Cyrene would have reached up to touch Hephaestion's hair. She wondered if it was as soft as it looked, or if he knew how perfectly it suited him. Both Alexander and his lover had been blessed by the gods, to her way of thinking. They were both absolutely stunning, gorgeous. The namesake of her origin would have been well matched in these two.
The goddess whose very name meant beauty and brightness would be an exquisite foil to the darker beauty of these two men.
Since she couldn't move, Cyrene contented herself with watching them kiss. Until today, she had never thought she might find two men kissing to be an attractive picture. But it was, both attractive and exciting. A fact that they were probably very aware of, but she couldn't help but tell them anyway. "So beautiful... you match each other so perfectly..." Soft, reverent whisper, barely audible despite her intentions.
Her legs trembled slightly, clasped around Alexander's waist, and she felt herself starting to lose control. She didn't fight it, but rather let it overtake her. Alexander wanted her to relax and enjoy, so that's what she would do.
Trembling legs and Hephaestion's hand sliding lower, both very good things. Eager to feel his lover's touch, Alexander rose up out of the kiss with a final nip at a full lower lip. Half-lidded eyes and slow smile, followed by a gasp as the desired touch came. "Ahhh God... I love you."
A prayer, a benediction and not in keeping with the game. Lex shook his head, closed his eyes for a moment and reached for the suddenly elusive thread of their shared fantasy. When he opened them again, Alexander was in firm control. "Hephaestion, my pleasure is not the goal. Touch Cyrene..."
Perfect obedience. The hand that encircled his phallus shifted away. Slick fingers sought and found the elusive spot that drew a startled gasp from their captive. Dark eyes turned inward, silent promises were made to never even think about this outside of the confines of this room.
His mother would kill him for thinking of any girl this way. She'd be appalled that Lex tied Buffy up and that Buffy allowed it. Even more appalled if she ever found out how much it turned him on. How much he hoped that when Lex... when Alexander was done that he'd be allowed to take his place.
Cyrene's eyes fluttered closed and her head tipped back as a shrill moan spilled from her lips. Finally believing that they truly wanted her to just let go, she did. She let herself feel, let herself react, and gave them what they wanted. More than just her body, she gave them evidence of her pleasure.
"Yes," she hissed softly when Hephaestion's fingers found her sweet spot. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't have stopped the soft cries that filled the tent when he began to rub there. "Gods... yes, right there. Oh, sweet goddess... so good..."
On another level entirely, Buffy felt completely unfettered for the first time that she could remember. There was no fear, no concern, no control... just pure pleasure, love and trust. It was a highly addictive feeling, and she knew she'd be asking to do this again sometime. She was sure Lex wouldn't have a problem with it. Clark seemed more than a little lost, out of his depth, and they'd have to help him with that.
But she'd think about that later. For now, she was intent on losing herself in this other persona. In giving up all semblance of control to her lovers. God, what an incredible feeling.
Quiet pride swelled through him as Hephaestion rubbed a little harder. Each pass more confident and the smile Alexander gave him was proof enough that his lover was not jealous. That this is what he wanted as well.
When Cyrene tilted her head back, arching into the next thrust, Hephaestion covered her open mouth with his own. No longer hesitant, no longer concerned that he might be doing something wrong. Game persona fully in place and when this was all over, he knew he'd be asking for a repeat performance.
"Good... yes... perfect. Uhh..." Letting go of her wrists, Alexander braced himself over her. Hard drive of his hips, impaling her over and over and over again. Pillows shifted, a cool breeze blew the door to their tent open and the sound of the camp filtered in for a minute. Laughter and voices and movement and so close... he was so close to coming.
True to her word, Cyrene's hands remained in place when Alexander released them. She was barely aware of missing the pressure on her hands, though, because the shift in his position and the harder thrusts into her body were pushing her beyond the edges of control. And because she wasn't even struggling, it only took moments before they pushed her to the edge.
Cyrene keened when she tumbled headlong into the abyss of pleasure. Her body arched upwards, shaking, and her hands clenched tightly into fists as every muscle in her body went tight.
"Yes. Yes." Adrenaline rush, too tight around him and any semblance of tenderness was gone. His back bowed, flat stomach slapping against hers as the spasms continued. Hard lock of muscle and bone around his waist - strength beyond comprehension.
Warrior to warrior, bodies honed by years of training and harsh combat. Alexander waited until her eyes opened, until she looked up at him before he took in a final breath... and came. Deep inside her, spilling precious seed upon barren soil. He felt her body's thirst, felt it being slaked as he provided what her other lovers could not.
His. She was his. Would always be his. Centuries from now, when their bodies were long gone and their names nothing more than dry memories, they would meet again. Meet again and love again and be loved by one another and by the boy who waited patiently by their side.
Cyrene's eyes widened at the depth of emotion in Alexander's eyes as he came. Desire, fierce possessiveness and a sort of giving that she'd never before seen in a warrior. She couldn't help but stare, amazed, for a long moment. Then, when her body relaxed and she lay again on the pillows beneath her, she tipped her head back again. She surrendered entirely to his possessive gaze and gave herself to them both.
It didn't matter that Alexander owned her body already through the dictates of war. This was something different, and personal. She was putting the remnants of her trust in them, and she would remain for as long as they wanted her. It wasn't a move designed to buy their trust, either - she knew that would take time in coming. But whether or not they chose to acknowledge it, she was theirs in ways that counted more than ownership of her body.
When breath and sense and sound was restored, Alexander lowered himself again until he covered her completely. The first kiss was gentle and bore the taste of salt. The second kiss was harder with a hint of copper. "Mine," one word formed and fed to her with the final kiss.
He would cut her bonds at some point. Let her roam the camp but only after he made it clear to every member of his army that this woman was his. Just as Hephaestion was his. Any hand laid on her would only be allowed with his permission.
"Yours," she agreed when his mouth released hers finally. She licked lips swollen by kisses and her eyes flicked over to Hephaestion; she hoped he wouldn't be hurt by Alexander's claiming of her. It was unusual for such a thing to happen, but this was an unusual situation. And she still wasn't sure she understood the younger man. Some of his reactions puzzled her.
Right now, though, he was watching them with a hint of longing in his eyes. Cyrene thought she understood the feeling, especially given that she'd monopolized his lover for a while now. If not for Alexander's weight pressing her into the pillows, she would have backed away. Ceded Hephaestion's place back to him with her thanks for letting her borrow it for a time.
Alexander followed her line of sight, a slow smile curving the corners of his mouth as he caught Hephaestion's expression. "Come here." There was no missing the tone of command in that quiet statement. No missing it at all.
Again they kissed over her, mouths sliding together in the give and take of lovers who knew each other by heart. When Alexander pulled away, Hephaestion followed, eager for another kiss. "Mine," Alexander said, withholding that kiss until acknowledgement was given.
"Yours... always yours." Dark eyes closed, huge hand cupping and cradling the ball of his shoulder and then the nape of his neck. The blind rise into Alexander's answering kiss was sheer poetry - need and hope and love all rolled into that single act.
To Cyrene's eyes, the love between these two men was almost a visible force. She felt as if she ought to disappear and leave them alone. Surely the gods would be angered by anyone who disrupted such a love. There were tales in every land about people being punished by the gods for pushing into the middle of a blessed union.
Cyrene did not want to become one of them.
She knew that she could not move, so she did the next best thing. She damped down on her presence, made herself as small as possible without actually moving. It had worked for her many a time to go unnoticed in risky situations. It may or may not work in such intimate company, but she could try.
On the other hand, Buffy was very happy to be witness to the love between her lovers. It pleased her to see them so happy, so very much in love. Unlike Cyrene, Buffy wasn't an interloper in an established relationship. Their relationship was new, yes, but it had formed with her as part of it. That made it less intimidating.
The hand on his neck eased, allowing Alexander to move away. "Hephaestion, you've always been mine. My friend, my lover, my companion, my student... Now it's time I taught you something new." The upward lift of a dark brow was a question all in its own. One that Alexander intended to answer.
Another drift of breeze through the tent, one that bore the scent of horses and men and the faint tinge of blood. A reminder that they lived in an almost constant state of war. Until the world lay at his feet, Alexander would always be at war. Until his father's throat lay under the point of his sword...
"It's time for you to know a woman's body." A quick flicker in Hephaestion's eyes, a shift from Alexander's face to the bound hands on the pillow and then back again. That look spoke volumes. "Do you want her tied or free? Either way, Cyrene will give you pleasure... Won't you?"
That question was directed at their now silent companion. The memory of Hephaestion's bound hands and the gag tied so tightly that it cut into his skin rose up again. While taking a bound captive caused Alexander no distress, it would probably not be the same for his lover.
Unlike Hephaestion, Alexander had never been a slave...
"I will, either way. I will do the best I can," Cyrene agreed softly. It hadn't occurred to her that Hephaestion had never been with a woman before. Either he learned quickly, or he just knew Alexander well enough to follow his orders with incredible skill. Either way, she hadn't realized. But now that she knew... yes, she would do anything she could to make it better for him.
It would be easier to do, if she had the use of her hands, but she could manage without. Though the expression in the younger man's eyes was such that she again wondered where he came from and if there was truth to the rumor that he'd once been a slave.
There was no question what his choice would be. He kissed Alexander once more before giving his answer. "Free her, please." If she tried to escape, the guards outside the tent would stop her. If she reached for Alexander's sword or his own knife, Hephaestion would stop her. He was faster and stronger than any man alive, as he'd proven time and time again.
Upon the first demonstration of his strength, Alexander's army had been awed. His lover's stallion had bolted, tearing the camp apart in an effort to escape. Hephaestion had stepped in, the animal's flying hooves no danger to him. Talking soft and low, he grabbed the broken halter rope and wrestled with the panicked animal until it stood beside him, blowing in fear and trembling.
Alexander's response had been a clap on his shoulder and a light-hearted comment about having misnamed him. That Achilles would have been a more suitable choice. They made love that night with Alexander pushing him to demonstrate even more of that strength. In the aftermath, when Hephaestion held his lover's trembling body and kissed the bruises he'd left behind... that was the first time Alexander said 'I love you'.
Cyrene knew she could get away if she chose, should they unbind her. But that would be a foolish thing to try, in the middle of an army camp. They would only kill her for harming their leader. And if she was being honest with herself, she had no true desire to leave. Where would she go? Her companions had been defeated, and she may well be one of the few left living.
She would be alone, and a very long way from home with no way to return, even if she were free.
"I won't try to run if you untie my hands," she said softly, calmly. "There would be nowhere to go, even if I wished to try." Not even one such as she could overpower an entire army. If she could, she would not be captive.
Not only beautiful but intelligent as well. Something he appreciated in his lovers. Alexander nodded in acknowledgment before sliding out from between her legs. The sigh she gave was interesting; it was almost as if she regretted the loss.
Strange...
He knelt on one of the pillows, discarding the silken garment that still clung to his shoulders. While Alexander busied himself with the knotted cord around her wrists, Hephaestion took his place. He slipped in between parted thighs, kissed her throat and explored her breasts with his hands and his mouth. Obviously enjoying the difference between Alexander's honed body and Cyrene's softer one.
With soft sounds of approval and encouragement, Cyrene let Hephaestion explore for a while. Let him feel for himself the differences between her body and a man's. When Alexander freed her hands, she flexed her wrists gratefully and heard the joints crack as they settled back into place. She made no sudden movements, instead let her hands move slowly until they rested on Hephaestion's shoulders.
One hand slid into his hair and cradled his head to her chest when his mouth latched onto a nipple and he began to suck. She gasped and moaned softly, murmured encouragement into his ear. If she hadn't known he was experienced with Alexander, at least, she would have wondered at his incredible skill. But in some things, the only difference between the two genders was the shape of the body rather than what felt good.
Her free hand was lifted from Hephaestion's shoulder. When Cyrene looked up to determine what was going on, she found Alexander watching the two of them with great interest. Her hand was held between his own and he rubbed it, working the tension out of abused muscles and tendons.
The tangled nest of his lover's dark curls moved from one side to the other, granting Alexander teasing glimpses of an open mouth and familiar pleasure-drugged eyes. Cyrene's moans echoed sounds he always made when Hephaestion did this for him. Such a talented mouth, soft when needed and hard when demanded.
"Now you understand why I kept him... why I freed him?" Even as he spoke, Alexander watched his lover slide further down. He shivered; his skin bore the sense memory of those lips and the tantalizing hint of teeth that never quite bit down. "No one in the world has a mouth like his."
"Yes," Cyrene whispered. "He is far too exquisite to keep in chains. He could only become what he is as a free man." And by freeing him, Alexander knew without a doubt that his lover stayed with him out of love and loyalty, not by force. And that was also something she understood; it would not be hard to love Alexander. It would not be hard to love either of them.
But she knew better than to allow herself to love her captors.
It would only hurt more when they sold her or sent her away. Even being as attached to them as she already was could be very dangerous.
She shivered, the muscles in her stomach quivering as Hephaestion's mouth slid over sensitive areas. He tantalized her nerves, sensitized her body to his touch. He truly was skilled, and practiced that skill on her. Oh yes, she would enjoy this. And she would help him to enjoy it, too.
A muffled moan escaped from between his mouth and her skin as he found the first hints of Alexander on her. That was a taste he knew by heart, even when mixed with hers. To Cyrene's surprise and Alexander's unending amusement, Hephaestion lifted her legs over his shoulders and settled in.
The first licks were tentative, tracing the contours of unfamiliar lips. He looked up at Alexander, automatically seeking encouragement, which he received in the form of a hand in his hair. Hephaestion turned into that touch, opening her with his cheek and chin. The next licks were harder, growing more and more confident.
Bittersweet and salt and olives, all Alexander. Honey and earth and rain - those tastes had to be Cyrene. Joy - Alexander. Sorrow - Cyrene. He absorbed them all, taking them into his mouth and into his body with quick licks and soft gulping swallows.
Sweet cries filled the air around them as Hephaestion drank from her, apparently enjoying the mixture of her essence and Alexander's. She could feel his tongue delving into her body after more of that elixir and shivered.
"By the gods," Cyrene murmured between breaths, "that feels so wonderful." And it did. "Alexander is right, you have an incredible mouth..." Further speech was almost beyond her capability, but her body hummed its own praise with gentle tremors that rippled through her flesh.
"Mmmm... I'm pleased you agree with me." A voice like honey-wine warmed by the sun, sweet and thick in her ear. Alexander nuzzled her cheek as he eased down beside her. His movement caused no disturbance for Hephaestion. Intent on his task and far too well trained to shirk his duties, he pressed a teasing tongue further inside her.
More of Alexander, familiar flood into his mouth. With eyes closed, he savored it. When the flow stopped, Hephaestion sought out the tiny nub his fingers found earlier. He sucked and teased and taunted that tender little spot, hoping to bring forth even more of his lover's taste.
Her hips bucked upwards and she moaned again when Hephaestion latched onto her clit. His lips and tongue moved on and around that spot, and soon she began to tremble in earnest. Once again, she curled her hands into fists and held tightly. Her nails bit into her palms, but she barely even noticed. She was too strung out, too sensitive to the mouth pleasuring her to notice the pricking sensation in her hands.
Cyrene's moans became cries as her body edged closer to orgasm. And her eyes were closed tightly until she felt Alexander's gaze on her. Dark eyes opened slowly and she turned her head to return his gaze; she bit her lip, suddenly unsure if she was doing something wrong. The intensity in his own gaze was startling to her, and her pleasure-hazed mind didn't know what to make of it.
Silver and steel, the light from outside the tent reflected in their depths for a moment before being half-shuttered. Deadly edge to him, destruction echoed in a sharp smile, which he hid in the hollow of her throat. Alexander of Macedonia was a force that few withstood. If jealousy entered into this, she wouldn't survive to see another hour... let alone another day.
Teeth at her throat, skating over the long-healed scar. "Mine, Cyrene. Never forget that. I choose to share him with you... for now." The bite was nowhere near as harsh as the one that had marred her skin in the first place. But it wasn't meant to be... it was only a reminder that while her hands were free, nothing else was.
She was on the edge of climax, trembling there while Hephaestion continued to drive her onward. Right there, caught between the Heavens and the Underworld. Her release hung in the air between them, he could smell it... could taste it on her skin. "You ache... come for him. Come for him and I promise he'll ride you until you can come no more."
The voice in her ear and the mouth on her sex provoked the very reaction Alexander was urging her towards. Cyrene moaned, long and low, and her hips pressed upwards into Hephaestion's mouth as she came. The wave started as a white-hot ball of pleasure within, then spread out to encompass her whole being. When the wave receded, she was left trembling and breathing heavily, spent for the moment.
When she was able to open her eyes again, she lifted them to meet Alexander's, a question lurked in hazy depths. "Why?" she whispered softly. "Why do all this for me? I am a slave, I should mean less than nothing to you." Cyrene didn't understand. She didn't know what motivated him, why he would choose to share all this with her. And she wanted to know. He might not tell her, but it couldn't hurt - much - to ask.
It would do more damage to her to allow herself to find hope in this situation. If she allowed herself to become used to this kind of treatment, she would suffer more grievously when she was returned to the normal life of a slave. She needed to know if there was reason to hope or if she should resign herself to a living death.
"Hephaestion was a slave. Do you think he means less than nothing to me?" His hand cupped her chin, fingertips pressing into the soft curve. Alexander waited for her to answer, studying her face for any hint of fear.
Humming to himself, Hephaestion wiped his chin on his shoulder and turned toward the open tent door. Beyond the fall of canvas he spotted several soldiers playing dice and two men wrestling while a crowd egged them on. Healthy and normal pursuits while the army rested. In two days time, they would be on the move again but for now it was time to play and let wounds heal.
Cyrene shook her head slowly. She saw him studying her expression intently and kept her eyes on his. She was not afraid of him; wary, but not afraid. His power over her extended to the power to break her if he chose. She had not seen him behave cruelly, but that did not mean that he was incapable of being cruel. She walked a fine line, trying to guess what he wanted her to do and be while the warrior within struggled to break free.
It was hard to subdue her inner nature, but so far she kept it under wraps because she had no other choice.
"No," she finally answered. Soft-voiced, calm, controlled. "I think Hephaestion means more to you than anyone else alive. But I am not him, and cannot be, so I must ask. By rights I am not a person but a possession, and very rarely does anyone think that a slave might have feelings. Especially because I am not one of your people."
"You are right and you are wrong. Hephaestion means more to me than life itself. I would die for him as he would die for me." A slow nod from Hephaestion confirmed the truth behind Alexander's words. Wide-eyed, the boy reached for him and received a warm kiss on an out-stretched hand. "You may be a slave now, Cyrene, but you haven't always been. You are a warrior and I respect that. You didn't beg for mercy or complain about being ill used by my men. I respect that too."
Alexander's hand cupped her breast, skating over a bruise to illustrate his point. "You're a lover of women as you have already admitted. And yet you respond eagerly to my touch and to Hephaestion's mouth... not that I can find any fault with that... He could bring cold marble to life." The faintest quirk at the corners of his mouth was answered by a brilliant smile from Hephaestion. "You fascinate me..."
The corners of her mouth turned up slightly. That, at least, she could understand. "Even to the people who trained and taught me, I have been something of an enigma." One or two had even likened her to a fragment of ice - hard and cold and with many facets. But even ice could be melted, if one could hold onto it long enough. Cyrene wondered if Alexander would appreciate the likeness, but she didn't volunteer it.
It always seemed rather conceited to describe herself in such a manner.
"As for the rest," she went on after a brief pause, "it would take a colder woman than I to be unmoved by either you or your lover. And it seemed to me that if you wished to be generous with me, that it would be wrong of me to withhold what you sought: my honest reaction."
In truth, she had known both men and women intimately, but found herself truly accepted by neither. At least with other women, she found the pleasure she enjoyed. Even if she did have to be careful of her strength with them, to worry about breaking them accidentally, she found the innate gentleness to be more welcome than the faster, harsher experiences she'd had with men.
*****
Go back to the Smallville page.
Authors: Lex's Lady & Mistress Ace
E-mail: winter@sapphire-dragon.net & rosewood@inreach.com
Feedback: It's the icing on the cake. We write because the story demands to be told. Feedback lets us know if we struck a chord with you.
Distribution: Our website, of course, www.fandomwriters.com. The list archives are welcome to it also. Anyone else, please ask first. We'd like to know where our fic is going.
Rating: NC-17 (eventually – or maybe quickly depending on the whim of the muses)
Category: Crossover, Romance, Angst
Spoilers: All of season 1 of Smallville and season 6 of Buffy: The Vampire Slayer
Pairings: Buffy/Clark/Lex, m/f, m/m
Disclaimer: We don't own the characters at all (however much we might wish we did). Buffy and all references to BTVS are property of the great god Joss Whedon, et al. Clark, Lex and the Smallville storyline belong to Miller-Gough et al. We're just borrowing them for a while. We promise to put them back unharmed and perhaps a little happier.
Notes: ** denotes internal thought, * = italics.
Summary: What if the Summers girls moved to Smallville? What if Buffy discovered that Clark had a secret and thought he could use a confidant?
Dedications: From Em: To Ace, for her never-ending support and her willingness to work on this with me. She writes both Clark and Lex in a way I could never hope to achieve, and I couldn't possibly have done this on my own.
From Ace: To Em for reminding me why I love Buffy. To Beth for being my Smallville watching partner even when the scripts were awful. To the whole Clark/Lex list for opening my eyes to the potential here. And finally to Christina for her great story; Runaway Trains at 3 A.M. which was part of our inspiration. You can find it at: this site.