write without fear ;

She’d eventually get angry about it, but for the moment she was frightened, and she was glad Malcolm was going in with her. “I very much appreciate you dropping everything to come,” she murmured. “And I appreciate the offer of staying at yours. You’re right. It’s probably the place I’d feel the safest.”

"Stay here for a minute," he whispered. "I dinnae want ye going inside just yet."

Before doing anything, he handed her his unlocked mobile, just in case. Then he stepped into the house, glancing around. He made it down the hall before someone dressed in all black came barreling towards him. Malcolm never even had the chance to react. They went flying down to the ground together, landing in a heap. Malcolm gasped, the wind knocked from his shoulders, just before he was punched squarely in the face.

Rolling them over, he called out to Kate in a panic. "Call the fuckin' police!" And then the fight continued, both of them scrambling to their feet, landing knocks, knees, and punches. Fucking hell. Malcolm wasn't built for this sort of thing.

Kate felt helpless, and watching Malcolm fight this man was tearing her heart to pieces. Malcolm was taking a beating, and it was her fault. She spied her cane propped up by the fireplace. Before she could consider the wisdom of her actions, she grabbed it and bashed the intruder on the back of the head with it. He went down like a sack of wet cement, out cold.

Their little familiars came running into the room, jumping up on the bed. They’d had a snack and had played together, now they just wanted to be close to their parents. “We should talk to Ambrose tomorrow. I think he can help us with teaching you magic. I’m certain he has some spell books handy. What would be perfect is if we could find some Celtic spells for you.”

"Of course," he said, a hand moving through her long hair and brushing it away from her shoulder. "Ambrose will have the answers we seek. He always does."

The prospect of performing spells (of any kind) was a jarring one. Magic. He wondered if he would have any aptitude for it. "It's funny," he mused. "I've been on earth for so long now. It's a rarity, you realize, to find something new for a being like me. You must be the same way, I'm sure. We've survived for ages, you and me, stagnant yet enduring. Something new feels rather exciting. Revitalizing. Fun. I'm looking forward to seeing Ambrose tomorrow."

“We are becoming a true hybrid. Nobody ever considered that a vampire and a demon could commingle their blood and take on each other’s characteristics. That’s something else we should discuss with Ambrose. Perhaps we’re looking at the creation of a new race. Mummy and Daddy.”

He was thinking about the upcoming election, a sigh spilling from his lips. For a moment, as he focused on the road, he lost himself to wild thoughts. Of them winning, of them losing. The aftermath of both.

She pondered that in the back of her mind, while trying to think of what she needed. "I won't stay any longer than I have to."

Had there really been no one else? She found it hard to believe that the Wolf of Downing Street had not been intimate with anyone else. Okay, don't go there, Kate, she cautioned herself.

As they left together, he fell in step with her. Seeing her walking again, even if it was a bit slower than before, was a marvel. He hadn't had the chance to really think much about it. He felt a lump form in his throat and he sighed, crossing the road with her and scrubbing at his face.

She’d eventually get angry about it, but for the moment she was frightened, and she was glad Malcolm was going in with her. “I very much appreciate you dropping everything to come,” she murmured. “And I appreciate the offer of staying at yours. You’re right. It’s probably the place I’d feel the safest.”

They’d vanquished Lucifer, even if for a short while. Greendale was safe. Sabrina was safe. Hell was in good hands. There was one question she had, and now was as good a time as any to ask it. “I’m sorry to bring this up again, but I’m curious. How did Lucifer know you are an Ancient One? Is it because he’s an angel?”

She moved away from him for a moment to retrieve her glass and take a long, slow sip of the blood Dorian had provided. “I’ll be honest. I’m rather pleased you’re older than you seem to be. It makes me feel less like a cradle robber,” she chuckled, clearly teasing him. “I’m sure you have plenty of stories to tell. We’ll have to compare notes some time about the world’s great historical events. I’ll be fascinated to get your perspective.”

"Lucifer, out of everyone, would know what I am, surely. Maybe it's my smell, or perhaps the look of me. Something, somehow... He knew without needing me to tell him. I was rather caught off guard as well, you know. It wasn't just you. And I'm sure we both have stories of our own, throughout history, and from our own experiences. We'll have to compare notes one day soon."

Their little familiars came running into the room, jumping up on the bed. They’d had a snack and had played together, now they just wanted to be close to their parents. “We should talk to Ambrose tomorrow. I think he can help us with teaching you magic. I’m certain he has some spell books handy. What would be perfect is if we could find some Celtic spells for you.”

Davina began to move then, fingers tightening around his as her hips began slow, steady movements against him. As much as she wanted to rush to that ultimate ending, she wanted to savor each moment, every breath, and every touch between them for this first time. It didn’t take long for them to become perfectly aligned, and she moaned against his mouth as she rode him slow and gentle.

"Not perfect," he later argued, more breathless than he would ever admit to being, and gave her a raspy laugh. "But I'm fucking elated you think so, darling."

There was something so heartbreakingly sweet about the fact that she was very obviously taking her time with this, wanting them both to enjoy the evening, despite how badly they might have wanted to rush things. It had been so long for him, a fact which she bloody well knew, and she was doing for this for his sake. He could have wept.

His fingers trailed along the smooth planes of her back, caressing her ribs, shoulders, arms, and chest. He paid close attention to each of her breasts, wanting this to be as good for her as possible, discovering just what she liked and how she preferred things. The discovery was always the best part.

The heat in her body was building, that sweet coil of desire beginning to tighten in her belly. She was wet, dripping in fact, and it created the most beautiful friction between the two of them. Without thinking, she began to move just a tiny bit faster, then she leaned down to give him a messy kiss, teeth tugging at his lower lip a bit.

“I just want you to know that you make me so happy, Daniel. From the moment I walked into your office, saw you again for the first time in years, I knew that I was where I am supposed to be.”

She brushed a tender kiss to his nose, then gave him a wicked little grin. With a smooth movement, she shifted her hips just enough to take him inside, gasping at the absolute perfection. “Jaysus God, you’ve been hiding your light under a bushel, Daniel.” She took a second to adjust, taking him fully inside. She took his hand, lacing her fingers through his.

"Yeah," he breathed. "Nice and easy."

Fucking Christ. She was perfect. She was everything he had ever needed, and it was more than apparent in that moment. It wasn't just the sex. IT was everything else that had happened these last few days. There would never be any hiding from her again. He wouldn't be able to. He was wide open, split apart at the seams and easier for her to read.

His free hand, the one that wasn't squeezing her fingers, brushed along her back and slowly fell to guide her hips forward. He urged her to move, lips parted as he stared up at her.

Davina began to move then, fingers tightening around his as her hips began slow, steady movements against him. As much as she wanted to rush to that ultimate ending, she wanted to savor each moment, every breath, and every touch between them for this first time. It didn’t take long for them to become perfectly aligned, and she moaned against his mouth as she rode him slow and gentle.

"I'm happy to teach you. We might need the help of Ambrose Spellman, however. We can ask him the next time we're at the Academy."

She drained her glass and set it aside. "What shall we do with our day? I'll be honest, I'd be perfectly content to stay in today. Perhaps we can try some rudimentary spells, if you'd like."

His neck arched for her nuzzling nose, eyes slipping shut at the sweet affection she was offering him. A hand brushed through her dark hair, tender and slow, and he sighed.

They’d vanquished Lucifer, even if for a short while. Greendale was safe. Sabrina was safe. Hell was in good hands. There was one question she had, and now was as good a time as any to ask it. “I’m sorry to bring this up again, but I’m curious. How did Lucifer know you are an Ancient One? Is it because he’s an angel?”

She moved away from him for a moment to retrieve her glass and take a long, slow sip of the blood Dorian had provided. “I’ll be honest. I’m rather pleased you’re older than you seem to be. It makes me feel less like a cradle robber,” she chuckled, clearly teasing him. “I’m sure you have plenty of stories to tell. We’ll have to compare notes some time about the world’s great historical events. I’ll be fascinated to get your perspective.”

She handed him a glass, then curled up next to him on the bed. "You might have to guide me through the process. I hope my fangs are strong enough. I haven't exactly come at this in the normal way, have I?"

"I'm happy to teach you. We might need the help of Ambrose Spellman, however. We can ask him the next time we're at the Academy."

She drained her glass and set it aside. "What shall we do with our day? I'll be honest, I'd be perfectly content to stay in today. Perhaps we can try some rudimentary spells, if you'd like."

"It's been a while," he said slowly, shifting to sit up in bed. A hand rubbed his bare chest as he sighed. "I could say the very same thing to you, you know. You've never... Not with me, at least. Would you like a little taste later?"

Sharing blood was intimate for vampires. It was a bond, something stronger than human couples ever experienced in their lives. But the words were said with a soft smirk and a laugh, a hand reaching out for the glass she'd poured for him. "Breakfast in bed. How nice."

She handed him a glass, then curled up next to him on the bed. "You might have to guide me through the process. I hope my fangs are strong enough. I haven't exactly come at this in the normal way, have I?"

They probably needed to go to the Academy later to check on Nick. But she was in no rush. “I think I’m going to call up Dorian and have him send over a selection of his finest vintages. I’m feeling a bit peckish.”

She began to laugh, thinking of the look on Lucifer’s face when he saw her fangs. “I think we surprised old Luci when he saw my fangs. He totally lost the plot then, didn’t he? Did I make a mistake? Should I have just used the Spear of Longinus and killed him? I suppose I always have that option in my back pocket.” She raised her head and looked down at him. “You’re devastatingly handsome, have I mentioned that lately?”

A hand slowly moved through her hair, stroking her scalp and drawing her closer. With his lips hovering over hers, he hummed. "You tell me often enough," he murmured honestly. He dipped his head for a long, slow-burning kiss. His nose brushed hers, eyes having fallen shut. As he slipped away, his lips brushed along her throat and he hummed.

Her ears picked up the sound of bottles being left on the front porch of the cottage. “Oh look at that. Breakfast is here,” she laughed. “Stay here, I’ll go get the delivery from Dorian.” She took a moment to slip into a black silk robe, using a casual hand to brush her hair from her face. She wandered to the living room and opened the door to retrieve the bottles. She studied them with a more informed eye than before. Dorian had done well.

When her eyes opened, it was morning, but the room was still dark. Her blackout curtains were working as they should. Another thing they had in common – both creatures more comfortable in the night.

She stretched against Alistair, her leg wrapped around his. She was in no hurry to move, nor to do anything beyond stay in this bed. At some point, their familiars had left the bed to have their own breakfast and play around the cottage.

"Mm, g'morning." It was a soft mumble, something sleepy and lazy. Sweet, too. Because that's how they were. He couldn't help himself, not when it came to her, so he drew her closer with careful hands and fought to stifle a yawn. "How long have you been awake, then? Been up long?"

They probably needed to go to the Academy later to check on Nick. But she was in no rush. “I think I’m going to call up Dorian and have him send over a selection of his finest vintages. I’m feeling a bit peckish.”

She began to laugh, thinking of the look on Lucifer’s face when he saw her fangs. “I think we surprised old Luci when he saw my fangs. He totally lost the plot then, didn’t he? Did I make a mistake? Should I have just used the Spear of Longinus and killed him? I suppose I always have that option in my back pocket.” She raised her head and looked down at him. “You’re devastatingly handsome, have I mentioned that lately?”

She was desperately trying to not appear needy, but the truth was she did need him. She needed to spend the night in his arms, to wake up in them tomorrow, and know that they were going to be okay. She watched as he undressed, a soft contented smile lighting her face. “Did today really happen? I wonder how Nick is faring. I’m certain Sabrina and the others are taking excellent care of him.”

"You are my other half," he reassured her. "There's no need for you to ever thank me, but I appreciate it all the same. I'm here for you, same as I'll always be, my love. Now get some rest. Close your eyes."

When her eyes opened, it was morning, but the room was still dark. Her blackout curtains were working as they should. Another thing they had in common – both creatures more comfortable in the night.

She stretched against Alistair, her leg wrapped around his. She was in no hurry to move, nor to do anything beyond stay in this bed. At some point, their familiars had left the bed to have their own breakfast and play around the cottage.

“Now you know everything about me. I don’t think I could handle any more revelations tonight. We should probably try to rest. If we’re fortunate, the Spellmans won’t need us tomorrow and we can have a day to ourselves.”

He rose from the sofa, easily carrying her in his arms. Wandering off towards the bedroom, he nudged the door open with his backside and slipped into the cozy room. Their lips brushed for a soft, tender kiss before he deposited her down on the mattress, fingers carefully slipping his waistcoat from his shoulders afterward. His boots followed, and then he untucked his tunic top from his trousers.

She was desperately trying to not appear needy, but the truth was she did need him. She needed to spend the night in his arms, to wake up in them tomorrow, and know that they were going to be okay. She watched as he undressed, a soft contented smile lighting her face. “Did today really happen? I wonder how Nick is faring. I’m certain Sabrina and the others are taking excellent care of him.”

She still had one rather large secret, one she was surprised Lucifer hadn’t spilled earlier. “Since we’re doing true confessions, I might as well tell you my secret.” She only prayed to Hecate that he would understand and not judge her too harshly.

“You know some of my story, how I was the wife of Adam, and I was thrown out of paradise, until Lucifer made me his handmaiden. I was to rule Hell at his side. Then he had to get a mortal pregnant and have a daughter, Sabrina. This is old news. But before Lucifer was carried by Nick, he was held by Father Blackwood for a time. Father Blackwood was able to be in control, and I convinced him to give me a child. A son. A son that would take precedence over a daughter.”

She withdrew her hand and looked up at the figure resting on her mantle. “Lucifer was going to have me killed, you see, for siding with the Spellman family. But then I was carrying his heir, his son. He agreed to reinstate me, and I believed him, the Father of Lies. As soon as Adam was born, he tried to strip me of my powers and take my son away from me.”

She was unaware of the tears rolling down her face as she told her tale. “I couldn’t allow that to happen. I couldn’t lose another person I loved to him. So I did the unthinkable. I let him think he won. Invited him for dinner.” She slid off the sofa and sank to her knees, hands wringing with fresh grief. “I sacrificed my child, my baby, and I fed him to Lucifer. Then I told him what I did.”

She couldn’t look at Alistair, didn’t want to imagine the horror on his face. “I went mad. I heard Adam’s voice everywhere I turned. Calaban procured the Spear of Longinus for me and I was going to kill myself. It’s the only thing that works on an immortal.”

“Zelda stopped me, told me that the Resurrected One, Lazarus, was here. For the first time I had hope. Hope that my baby could come back to me. Lazarus couldn’t help me without a body. He shouldn’t have been here, you see. He brought the dead back with him, blurring the lines between this world and the underworld. So, I used the Spear to kill Lazarus. Mambo Marie, as thanks for saving the living, gave me a boon. Not the boon I wanted, but a boon nonetheless. She gave me my baby’s spirit, living in the figure on the mantle.”

In all seriousness, his reaction probably wasn't one that she'd been expecting. He wasn't revolted. It wasn't a pretty picture, but then again, things rarely ever were when it came to nightmares of the supernatural sort.

"The one you love above all others," he whispered, repeating the words to her. He tilted his head, kissing her temple as well. "I love you. That feeling is more than returned, believe me. Perhaps we've both needed to just sit down and talk for a while. And no, I'm not disgusted by what you did or what you suffered. I'm only angry that he put you through it. I'm furious that it came to that. You've always deserved better. He used and abused you, for ages, but now it's at least... safer for you. I'm surprised he hadn't told me earlier, honestly. Thinking about it now, I would have expected it from him."

“Now you know everything about me. I don’t think I could handle any more revelations tonight. We should probably try to rest. If we’re fortunate, the Spellmans won’t need us tomorrow and we can have a day to ourselves.”

She leaned against him, resting her head on his arm. “What is it people of this time say – age is just a number? It doesn’t matter to me how old you are. However, it does make me wonder why you told me something different when we first met. I suppose in the grand scheme, it doesn’t really matter.”

"No," he answered honestly. "I'm not the first. None of us even know who the first of our kind was. And yes, still, I was a Celt. I was unfortunately attacked by a Roman vampire on the battlefield. I died that night and was reborn. He made me bloodbound. I never saw him again. If we're being honest, though, as far as firsts go, I was the first Celtic vampire."

She still had one rather large secret, one she was surprised Lucifer hadn’t spilled earlier. “Since we’re doing true confessions, I might as well tell you my secret.” She only prayed to Hecate that he would understand and not judge her too harshly.

“You know some of my story, how I was the wife of Adam, and I was thrown out of paradise, until Lucifer made me his handmaiden. I was to rule Hell at his side. Then he had to get a mortal pregnant and have a daughter, Sabrina. This is old news. But before Lucifer was carried by Nick, he was held by Father Blackwood for a time. Father Blackwood was able to be in control, and I convinced him to give me a child. A son. A son that would take precedence over a daughter.”

She withdrew her hand and looked up at the figure resting on her mantle. “Lucifer was going to have me killed, you see, for siding with the Spellman family. But then I was carrying his heir, his son. He agreed to reinstate me, and I believed him, the Father of Lies. As soon as Adam was born, he tried to strip me of my powers and take my son away from me.”

She was unaware of the tears rolling down her face as she told her tale. “I couldn’t allow that to happen. I couldn’t lose another person I loved to him. So I did the unthinkable. I let him think he won. Invited him for dinner.” She slid off the sofa and sank to her knees, hands wringing with fresh grief. “I sacrificed my child, my baby, and I fed him to Lucifer. Then I told him what I did.”

She couldn’t look at Alistair, didn’t want to imagine the horror on his face. “I went mad. I heard Adam’s voice everywhere I turned. Calaban procured the Spear of Longinus for me and I was going to kill myself. It’s the only thing that works on an immortal.”

“Zelda stopped me, told me that the Resurrected One, Lazarus, was here. For the first time I had hope. Hope that my baby could come back to me. Lazarus couldn’t help me without a body. He shouldn’t have been here, you see. He brought the dead back with him, blurring the lines between this world and the underworld. So, I used the Spear to kill Lazarus. Mambo Marie, as thanks for saving the living, gave me a boon. Not the boon I wanted, but a boon nonetheless. She gave me my baby’s spirit, living in the figure on the mantle.”

There was a heaviness lingering in his chest, a feeling that he would never be able to rid himself of, not unless he divulged the truth. A distraction wouldn't help him, or her. He eventually followed her, losing his waistcoat and completely unbuttoning it before taking a seat beside her.

She leaned against him, resting her head on his arm. “What is it people of this time say – age is just a number? It doesn’t matter to me how old you are. However, it does make me wonder why you told me something different when we first met. I suppose in the grand scheme, it doesn’t really matter.”