Running

[rhiannon_lee]

Nighttime in Cottonwood Cove was a spectacle: a pale, pebble-strewn ground underfoot, ghostly Joshua trees twisting against a barren landscape, and a sky so black and velvety that Rhiannon longed to touch it. The moon hung low and full as she knocked at the front door of Cian’s little cottage, which had been built by a wealthy contractor as a getaway spot for his family during the construction of the Hoover Dam in the 1930s. With all that was temporary or mobile in this part of Clark County, Rhiannon appreciated the historical aspects of its framework, and how it lent a sense of time and place to an otherwise transient community.

The slayer’s dark hair was combed into a ponytail. After the sun went down, the desert temperature dropped sharply, and so she wore a loosely knit sweater over her tank top, jeans, and boots. A delicate crucifix glinted on her collarbone. She crossed her ankles and slipped her thumbs into her hip pockets as she waited for the Were to answer.

Comments

Running

[cian_oneill]

Even with the drop in temperatures Cian didn't feel the need to wear anything to protect from the cold, his clothing consisting of only a t-shirt and shorts when he answered the door, barefoot. He had a towel in his hand, clearly having been drying his hair after a shower.

"C'mon in," he said simply, standing back to make way for Rhiannon to enter the cabin. The room was comfortably furnished, a leather sofa defining a boundary between the living room and dining area. The floor in front of the couch was covered with a large handwoven Turkish rug, clearly worn in spots. A single arm chair was on the opposite side of the room, a lamp standing behind it, a small side table holding a couple of books and letter writing pad and pen. On the wall behind the armchair were some shelves, some containing books, others a collection of jars which to the unknowing eye would appear to be just a collection of decoratively eclectic shaped and coloured glass bottles, each with a stopper of a different type and size. Next to them were some bunches of dried flowers, or at least that's what they looked like to the ignorant observer.

The wooden dining table was large, the surface worn and full of character, small dents and marks carrying stories that would remain untold, unless tables were made to talk. The chairs that surrounded it were mismatched, some with cushions, some with arms, some simple wooden backed and basic.

The kitchen, at the far end of the open space, a bench forming the island barrier between it and the dining table, was the only sign of 'modern' life. A large refrigerator sat in the corner, a gas range lined the far wall, and a double stainless steel sink finished up the triangle, set into the bench that ran the full width of the kitchen, and swept around the corner to complete the area. Copper pots and a large frypan were hung from hooks and glass-fronted cupboards revealed a larder and a collection of crockery.

Against the wall to the left of the front door was a large sideboard, two framed pictures being the only items on it's surface. One was an older picture, a young family, mother, father and three children, clearly posing for a family portrait. The other one held a more recent, but still older photo of a older woman and Cian, flanked by a young man and woman.

Re: Running

[rhiannon_lee]

Rhiannon was met with a rush of warm air and the scent of magics, or at least, a scent that she associated with them. In her housing in England, there were rooms where cabinets held jars of musky roots and dried leaves, and compartmentalized boxes were filled to the brim with rough-edged minerals. Incense burned as watchers experimented with new warding spells. What didn’t stink of magic stank of wilting books and dust, or worse, old sweat in the room where the first months of physical training occurred. A modern London pulsed outside; an ancient history dwelled within the stone walls. Rhiannon had taken long runs in the morning, while the light was low, breathing deep to cleanse her lungs, then lit a cigarette and undid it.

Here, it was softer, less calamitous.

It also smelled of Cian.

She stepped across the threshold. “Hey.” Rhiannon placed a gentle palm on his stomach and scratched lightly as she passed him. “Been a while.” That bit, she said with an uplifted eyebrow and a little curve at the corner of her mouth. The brunette touched the back of the couch. There was a lot to be learned in his belongings, things that Cian did not offer aloud, not unless he was asked. She supposed it was true of her, too. What would he think of her living space? She took in as much as possible in one sweep of the room, including photographs of his family. A younger Cian, a brighter smile, already a little cocky, she thought.

Re: Running

[cian_oneill]

He left the door open, the cooler night air of the desert allowed to enter and cool the interior of the cabin. His eyes followed her as she crossed the room, the towel in his hand scrubbing at the back of his neck, collecting the last of the water droplets that had collected in the strands of hair. He slung the towel over his shoulder as he walked across to where she was standing, leaning down to kiss her, a soft purr felt, rather than heard. As mouths parted his eyes met hers. "It has."

Re: Running

[rhiannon_lee]

Rhiannon tilted her head and the soft ends of her ponytail danced on her shoulder. She fiddled with the neck of his t-shirt, where his hair had dripped and left a damp spot that his towel didn’t catch. “I thought about you. A little. Once.” She tapped his chin and then, with fascination, she traced her index finger down to his Adam’s apple and the hollow above his clavicle, searching out and finding the source of the vibration. Cupping a hand around the base of his scalp, Rhiannon leaned into the shelter underneath his chin and kissed the muscles nearest his voice box. Tongue’s tip grazed the shaven skin, which tasted of his soap.

She withdrew.

Re: Running

[cian_oneill]

His eyelids lowered a little, hiding the flecks of gold that appeared then faded just as quickly. The cool of the evening air highlighting the trail her tongue had taken. His head lowered again, this time the kiss carrying an edge to it, lips pressing a little more firmly, tongue seeking access, tasting, claiming and inviting, as his fingers cradled the back of her head.

[rhiannon_lee]

As she ran, a strange thing began to happen to her. This was release of her abilities – strength, agility, speed, endurance – that had nothing to do with violence, a manner of releasing steam that did not call upon the slow poisoning of her body through substance. She was alive and in darkness. Alone and yet not. No conflict and no pain. Faster she chased the long shadows of the desert, stopping only to climb another rock. A sheen of sweat made the air feel icy on her arms, legs, and neck.

She wanted to fly.

Rhiannon ran until her lungs burned and her skin prickled. Always within earshot or eyesight there was Siofra. Cian.

The nocturnal animals of the desert stilled as the pair passed them. The bottom of Rhiannon’s boot grazed the back of a jackrabbit as she climbed a summit and stopped long enough to listen to a coyote baying.

[cian_oneill]

The moonlight bathed the scenery, nocturnal creatures emerging into the brightness for them, only to scurry back into the protective snug of the shadows as the large cat and Slayer crossed the terrain as if owning it.

Lizards, needing the warmth of the sun for their energy remained in their hides as the vibrations came and went, the steady 2-beat of the human's boots, accompanied by the underlying 4-beat of the cat's paws from time to time. Siofra's eyes would be caught from time to time by the darting movement of a startled squirrel, or cottontail rabbit caught in the open by the speed of the two runners.

Siofra climbed to the summit where the Slayer stood, coming to a stop on the rock at the top, eyes half open as nostrils tested the air and ears swiveled for news on their surroundings.

[rhiannon_lee]

She lowered herself to haunches beside the cat, but her eyes were trained on the dry land that stretched before them. “What do you want?” she asked, just quiet enough for those flicking ears. She wondered what the cougar would do if she weren’t at his side, hunt a nocturnal creature and rend flesh from the bone? Run and run until he left the cove and its lake far behind? There were pieces of themselves they shared, and perhaps others that weren’t quite ready for one another’s eyes. Rhiannon didn’t know what she would do if Cian stumbled across her ripping a demon limb from limb, the way she sometimes needed to do, emerging from the battle covered in blood and slime and looking unusually happy about it.

Her fingers dug into the fur at Siofra’s neck and massaged it.

Running

[cian_oneill]

Siofra's head turned, eyes hooded but seeing, as the Slayer's fingers worked into the thick coat at the back of the big cat's neck. Slowly the mouth opened a little, the shape of the tongue becoming visible as the jaw continued to lower and a soft yawn was emitted. There was no tiredness evident, but instead an expression of relaxation only possible in those who could be alert in a heartbeat.

A few minutes passed and as if saying it had had sufficient Siofra stood and startd to make its way down the rocky face of the ridge, carefully traversing the scree and reaching the level surface before breaking into a trot, as if waiting for the Slayer to follow, but not stopping to do so.

Re: Running

[rhiannon_lee]

She held still to watch the descent of the cat because of its grace and musculature. Then Rhiannon stood and picked a path down the jagged hillside, and once her feet touched the gravelly earth at its base, she began to run alongside the cat in a pace not so urgent this time. A low rattle came from the underside of a nearby rock, but it was paid no mind as they were long out of range. The wind was at their backs now and it pressed them onward.

‘If only we were telepathic,’ thought Rhiannon as she watched all four of the animal’s legs leave the ground over and over again.

[rhiannon_lee]

Lovely sentiment, indeed. Shit aside, God, why had she said the rest of it out loud? It was this cavern, she decided, rubbing at her elbow with the hand that Cian didn’t hold. It was possible to feel that you weren’t real here, that the world had gone away. While he picked up a crystal and weighed it in his palm, Rhiannon softly touched her stomach and hoped to heaven she didn’t throw up. In the midst of that nervy near-catastrophe, she looked at the collection spread before them. Some she recognized as chips of turquoise, others as crystals of malachite, olivenite, and gypsum. Light glistened on a small piece of blue stone, which she picked up and held carefully between her thumb and forefinger. “Azurite. In ancient China, they thought this opened celestial gateways,” she said. “I know it as the rock I used to stare at for hours trying to reach a meditative state.”

A small smile at the confession.

Re: Running

[cian_oneill]

He chuckled, the confessions not surprising, but instead making him cast his eyes across the ledge until he found the crystal he was looking for. He picked it up, his other hand, still holding hers, lifting until he could slip the piece of turquoise into her palm, holding it there between their hands. "Might help."

Re: Running

[rhiannon_lee]

‘What about blind panic, have you got anything for that?’

Rhiannon squeezed his hand tight as the stone was transferred into her palm, and placed the dreaded azurite among the other of his treasures. “Thank you,” she said. It took some willpower to get calmly past the wave of anxiety that had threatened to swallow her, but she refused to cow to it, not when staying right there was the boldest thing she could remember doing in a long time.

She turned from the ledge and walked toward the opening of the cavern, not leaving but looking out at the flat valley.

[cian_oneill]

He gave her the time, alone with her thoughts on a plane that was new to them both. As he stood there he let his mind go, closing his eyes and listening. As he stood there he felt something suddenly come over him, a feeling he wasn't familiar with, and his eyes opened. He moved to the passage, ducking his head and straightening as he came to a halt behind her. Without a word he stood there, simply waiting.

[rhiannon_lee]

She felt his calm. Sensed it in a way Rhiannon didn't understand, the way she sensed the approach of a demon, or that a bad thing was going to happen. It defied explanation, and it couldn't be called upon on demand. It simply was.

And his calm irritated her beyond the telling of it.

She rolled her eyes and turned around to shove with moderate strength at his shoulder.

"Jesus, doesn't anything freak you out?" Her voice was magnified in the cavern behind him. "This," she gestured back and forth between them, "This doesn't-- Cian!"

Re: Running

[cian_oneill]

The surprise on his face was clear and he rolled his shoulder as she shoved him. His hand reached for her wrist and held it gently, the pulse there clearly discernible beneath his fingers. "And it would make y' feel better if it did?" he asked, a little confused, trying to understand what it was that had triggered her reaction.

Re: Running

[rhiannon_lee]

For once, he hadn’t anticipated her, and it took striking him to do it. That wasn’t a plus.

“No. Don’t freak out.” Rhiannon stared at his light grip on her wrist. “I just keep waiting for you to react like an ordinary person. To stumble once in a while, say the wrong thing, get caught off guard. Your poker face is…” She drifted off in search of the appropriate word. Intimidating? No, that wasn’t right. The situation might intimidate her, but Cian did not.

She wet her lips.

“The way you always take everything in stride, it makes you feel out of reach and I can’t… I don’t know how to be out on a limb by myself.”

The truth was that Cian communicated through actions, and Rhiannon through words, and whatever passed between them in that enclave of rock had been neither. “This is my fault. Just talk to me, at least until I get the hang of whatever's going on here. I need a crash helmet.” The last bit spoken with an embarrassed laugh.

[cian_oneill]

His laugh huffed softly into her neck, eyes watching into the moonlight as he felt her against him, the unfamiliar and yet familiar all at once.

"Not sure I've ever fought a thumb war," he admitted, smiling. "Arm wrestled a few times though." He pulled his head back until he could see her face. "Y'll 'ave t' teach me."

[rhiannon_lee]

“Oh, it’s nothing like arm wrestling. It’s all about evasion. First you latch your fingers together really tightly.” Rhiannon’s fingers crept deeper into his sandy-blonde hair and scratched at his scalp. “Then your thumbs do this little dance.” As she leaned closer, their mouths came into near contact, but didn’t touch as she tipped her head left and right. “And when your opponent least expects it, you dart in hold them down.” With a quick movement of her teeth, Cian’s lip was captured.

[cian_oneill]

His smile lessened a little as felt her teeth on his lip, but not his chuckle as she held it. His tongue darted out, swiping across her teeth lightly, then a little more slowly as he pressed the rest of their mouths together.

[rhiannon_lee]

She opened her mouth wider to let him taste her, and the tactile sensation sent a ripple of pleasure down her spine. A tiny hum in the back of her throat, quiet but audible, encouraged him. Rhiannon touched his ears and pulled down gently on the lobes. Lips parted on a soft breath. “Have I got you, too, Cian?”

[rhiannon_lee]

The cool night air in the enclave contrasted starkly with the sweat and warmth of skin. She leaned back in the cradle of the Were’s arms. It took a minute to catch her breath. Rhiannon nuzzled her temple against his cheek. She hadn’t known this type of moment existed, and it was like time had rewound the centuries. No buildings, no roads, no lights operated by switch. There was a word for how she felt, but she couldn’t put it into the air. Saying such things aloud was a dare to the universe.

Re: Running

[cian_oneill]

He dipped his head until his mouth found the crook of her neck, the smooth unblemished skin she'd exposed earlier. This time when his teeth closed on it there was pressure, a mark that would stay until her body resolved it.

Fingers traced up the centre of her body, trailing up her throat until they pressed her jaw, turning her head. His mouth closed on hers, possessive and protective, hungry and happy as his tongue lazily explored and tasted as if feeding on the energy and heat between them.

Re: Running

[rhiannon_lee]

Generally speaking, Rhiannon experienced fear right after she noticed happiness, like its less welcome shadow twin. But right then, removed from the rest of the planet and its people and monsters, she was at ease. She curled her hand around Cian’s head at his ear and held him in the kiss, her tongue moving in unison with his. “Not just the night,” she said when their mouths finally parted. “Much longer.”

But who cared about the rest?

They would stay a while longer and then run the distance back to Cottonwood Cove. She would climb into an actual bed and sleep under the sheets in a pleasing tangle of the Were’s arms and legs. When it was time, she’d drive back to the city in a daze of sore skin and daydreams, and it would be okay.

Because what kept her in the desert wasn’t just its unique energy. It was also Cian.

Re: Running

[cian_oneill]

FTB?