Chapter 25 ofW&W

If it had been a dream, I woulda said it was amazingly erotic. Muzzily coming awake in a dim spicy-scented place, wrapped in soft furs and powerful leather clad arms. Being taken from behind by an unseen but so familiar vampire who was shuddering, groaning into my bleeding hand even as I beat off unconsciousness enough to realize I was pretty turned on, too.

Except, there was something so wrong about this it wasn't funny. What the fuck was he doing, he'd never approached me like this!

Oh, I don't mean he couldn't do rabid lust----and that's what this was, by anyone's measure. But think I mentioned before that he did prefer romance. Christ, he hadn't even taken off his clothes by what I could feel! Just released his dick enough to go for it. That was so not like Carson. More like a damned rapist.

Of course, he'd gotten horny before while I was conked out. Especially in Berkeley; hell, when he'd first come back to me, it was all I could do to snatch four hours a night in between him shaking me awake urgently needing sex. Dig it, the crazy bastard had decided he had to remain celibate for me for those five years we'd been apart. Although, he'd explained with a total seriousness that cracked me right the hell up, he'd also considered "practicing" to gain skill in the sexual arts so as to please me better. But he found he just couldn't stand the thought of touching anyone else, not until he saw me again.

So once again I'd become the teacher. For a little while, until the student surpassed the so-called master. Which took about three days; I kid you not, the boy had been hot to trot, back on Earth. Gaining that killer body when my spell went blooey had fired his sex drive even more. Hell, here in Khesh he was almost restrained compared to the wildcat I'd had to handle on a daily basis on Earth, where same-sex pairings were much less condoned even in Berkeley.

But he'd never, ever, failed to wake me up first. Ask for permission in some way, even if he was too far gone in lust to form sentences the movements of his body against me, his hands on me, would be a silent but very eloquent request. And I don't think he'd ever gotten a refusal, not from this bad boy.

What he'd never done was just fucking take what he wanted without me even being conscious. Using me, like a, like a fucking receptacle! Hadn't climbed in bed with me really, hadn't even shed his britches; what bullshit was this! Not to mention slurping on my hand, which now truly hurt so much it was making me half giddy.

Humiliated and furious, I began to flail free of him. But even before I started to do so, I felt him flinch against me. Pull away with a muffled sound of horror and pain.

Or in this case, feeling-meld. His shame and disgust with himself seemed to pulse through me as well. And I suppose my hurt and outrage had come through just as clear on his end.

On Earth, we'd talked in each other's heads the same as holding a conversation. This was on a more primal level. And though I had no trouble separating whose emotions belonged to who, I much preferred the cross-talk.

Experiencing my bad boy's emotions like this was not a good thing. He felt things way too much, far too passionately. It damn near socked me in the teeth. It certainly knocked all the mad right outta me. My indignation was a puny force, compared to his absolute self-loathing.

I'd been gonna smack him upside the head. Now, I just turned around. Studied him for a moment; he'd released my hand, which was beginning to heal again now that there wasn't some lust-crazed barbarian sucking it open. I couldn't have been asleep more than an hour, or it would've been finished before he got there.

He wasn't looking at me, wasn't even near me anymore. In fact he'd pulled far enough back to actually be off the bed, kneeling beside it with his head down so I couldn't see his face through the rush of heavy midnight hair. His hands were gripping the bed furs so hard his knuckles were white.

He wasn't playing me. With the Bond now between us I couldn't even pretend that. He was in agony here. So much so I was beginning to feel like I'd over-reacted just a bit.

"Carson?" No answer except for quickened breathing. For all my upset with his actions, I couldn't help touching his hair. "Why?" was all I finally asked him, very calmly.

No answer except for another surge of pure pain. Goddammit! If this melding had been more like it was on Earth, I woulda already known "why", without having to feel every dramatic passion he experienced! I could only hope this stuff would turn more intellectual over time, because riding the surf of someone as volatile as Carse was gonna knock me off the board and drown me pretty damn quick.

As if he'd felt that thought, he slowly raised his head. I saw the flicker of his storm-blue eyes, could barely see the trace of my blood on his lips through the shadows of his hair as he whispered. "Sensei----Keith----Gwai'vharn----"

"All me," I assured him, trying not to sound too crisp. I had totally woken up by now, enough to realize that something wasn't wrong just with Carson. Since when did I stagger off from a gathering like that, hurl myself into bed and zonk out? Not since I stopped doing drugs. Definitely not since becoming elvish. It was almost like a Sleep spell----but who the hell would be doing that to me? Jalin was the only other wizard in town, and even if there'd been a good reason for it the thought would've appalled him.

"The Wolf Moon rises," he said rather thickly, in the same breath, finally meeting my eyes fully. His own eyes seemed to want to jerk away from mine and he physically wasn't letting them; it was painful even to watch. "I----I couldn't help myself, Hawk. Your blood----a madness rose inside me. I can never be sorry enough, for this."

"Wolf Moon? Hey, it's mid-afternoon here!" His apologies were making me really uncomfortable, even though I suppose I'd have been pissed if he hadn't apologized.

He shook his head strongly. "It does not matter. I feel it in my flesh, even if not yet risen in the sky. The Wolf will take me, for whatever our task here will be. It is truly the verge of the Quarters War." A bitter laugh. "Do you think I alone, would have used you so? He stands at the threshold already, if not yet in control of me totally. God-spawn or not, he will suffer for this!"

Carson was getting riled; the beat of his fury filled the tent like a cold black fire. Well, it was better than the self-loathing, if no more comfortable for yours truly. Carson's rages were different than mine, more poisonous and unforgiving. Well, at least this one wasn't directed at me.

"Wolf Moon----not so common," I stammered. Trying to remember when the last one had occurred. I mentioned twelve moons, right? The Wolf Moon, it was the thirteenth. The one they never mentioned. The crimson and ebony moon, filled with death and magic, that was often forgotten since it only appeared once every generation or so.

I leaned forward, reached for him. He was some surprised when I kissed him, I think. Tasted my own blood on those lips. I had noticed, almost in a detached manner, that the blood wasn't exactly, well, human blood. Stuff was a dark gold like honey just out of the comb. Elf blood. Tasted sweet rather than salty. And even though it was my blood, I felt the buzz of magic on my lips as I tasted it.

"Babe. It's okay. I'm mostly elf now, you didn't hurt anything but my pride." And it was true, except for my own personal value system I'd found his actions majorly exciting. Elf bodies are different than human. In lotsa ways. Made for sex, formed for pleasure however it came. No, didn't wanna think about that! "But if you try it again wake me up first, right? Because next time I WILL kick your fucking ass!"

I meant it, too. Even a guy like me has some principles, dammit. One is, you don't boink me without inviting me to participate.

It was the right approach to take. The frozen, haggard expression eased a trifle. If not quite becoming happy. "My own," he whispered, finally reaching for me as himself.

Oh, those blazing blue eyes. Windows to the soul? Always, in his case. Strength so allied with beauty and truth there was absolutely no seam between all of them. Never let him go. Fight for him----you betcha. I didn't even know what prompted the thought.

"There's another darkangel out there, Carse." To try and soften it, not lay it right on the line, would be to disrespect him. And I would never do that. "I mean in this world. And I don't know which of us it's after, but something tells me it's not here just to look at the beautiful Khesh scenery."

Things fall apart. The center does not hold. Didn't I learn that on Earth somewhere? There was a poet I studied. There was stuff I learned. Yeats, that was his name. Crazy old Yeats.

His head came up sharply. For the first time in many years, I thought I saw something like fear in those arrogant blue eyes. He masked it quickly with anger. He didn't need to. Saying it out loud had finally brought terror home to me, as well. Some things are so bad, they hit you in the gut and there's nothing you can say to make it better.

He ignored my attempt at lightening things up. Instead, he crawled back onto the bed; still dressed of course, battle leathers. That's what you wore when you addressed a War Council. Cobalt blue on ebony. He'd strictly tucked his cock away while we were talking. He would never touch me again, unless I reached out first, gave him six kinds of permission.

Ah----no. I meant, you didn't need to feel sorry for anything, didn't need to stop touching me no matter what happens. Crap, maybe that thought had been too Hollywood and he'd ignored it. Couldn't blame him for that.

Almost on the instant, though, his face changed and he pulled me close. "I have no doubt of that. We will forgive each other----any stupidity. Though make-up sex will be more than pleasant."

He smiled at me, eyes dancing. "Get dressed," he said, kindly. "I cannot think of politics, war or darkangels while you kneel there naked glaring at me in such a way."

I gave him a look, hopped up, and put my pants on. Doing it slowly, not so politely either. Although I forgave him and then some, I hadn't asked to be jumped in the sack like that. I felt a little like turning him on and then telling him to go fish. Though of course I would never do that.

"Keith," he then said, very quietly, once I was dressed and ready for it. His deep blue eyes were deadly serious on mine. "You felt a Darkangel? You are sure of it?"

My eyes snapped open. I was saying hurtful shit before I even thought about it. "Asher. Oh, yeah. Your other boink. You mean he wasn't just standing there watching while you boned me?"

"You said you banged a load of chicks. Never another guy. 'Not even to keep back the loneliness.' What the hell is he, a babe with a beard? A politically correct beard even, not tribal at all. Marin rich boy more like it! I can't believe you banged this yuppie, this Errol Flynn wannabe!"

His mouth twitched. His eyes dropped. I had him bagged, filleted, shiskabobbed. Why didn't I feel the least bit good about it?

"We don't look a thing alike," was all I could finally offer. And it was true. That romantically sexy-looking devil and me were light-years apart.

I felt sickness rising in me. Somehow, this confession wounded me worse than if Carson had said they banged each other on a daily basis. He made Carson laugh. Oh, God.

We were something other. Whether magic had risen between us or not, there was something between us that defied magic. Defied reason.

Crazed song lyrics, running though my head. Meaning more than they ever had even when I was high on acid. Starship. No Starships in this place, but magic was the same thing really.

"I love you." I said it finally. It came out of me like sunlight, like fire magic. Like I had found wings on my back and was learning to fly.

His voice was softly sexy. "You are insane. You have smoked pot, although where you found it on this world----Ah. There are plants near the forest, somewhat similar though stronger.. Though I wouldn 't think you had time to dry them. Or you have overindulged in Blue Death. Though you do not smell of it----"

I glared at him, outraged. I give the bastard mush and this is what I get? "I meant it dammit!!!!!" And he knew it too. Through this strange new bond of ours, he had to know it!

His mouth was soft against my ear. "We will meet this darkangel. We will kill it. It will be a stronger force here. Do you not realize that the one you vanquished must have come from Khesh?"

"It was weak, in such a place as Earth." He stated it calmly, as if it didn't matter. "The one we face here will be in full power. A very evil thing. A monster."

"You said you loved me." His voice was a dark magic inside my brain. Inside my ear, where his tongue was now. Oh hell I had said that hasn't I?

"You always could, you dumbass," I whispered back. A tongue inside an elf ear was unfair. Inspired mush. Inspired lust. Inspired all kindsa stuff-----

And like the cold rebuttal to both our remarks, Smitty's voice was in the tent. "Uh----guys? Hate to break this up, but we do need to talk----since you left the council a bit abruptly, uh, well, there's more stuff you need to----"



	NC-17 Summary: Keith and Carson talk. After Council If it had been a dream, I woulda said it was amazingly erotic. Muzzily coming awake in a dim spicy-scented place, wrapped in soft furs and powerful leather clad arms. Being taken from behind by an unseen but so familiar vampire who was shuddering, groaning into my bleeding hand even as I beat off unconsciousness enough to realize I was pretty turned on, too. Except, there was something so wrong about this it wasn't funny. What the fuck was he doing, he'd never approached me like this! Oh, I don't mean he couldn't do rabid lust----and that's what this was, by anyone's measure. But think I mentioned before that he did prefer romance. Christ, he hadn't even taken off his clothes by what I could feel! Just released his dick enough to go for it. That was so not like Carson. More like a damned rapist. Of course, he'd gotten horny before while I was conked out. Especially in Berkeley; hell, when he'd first come back to me, it was all I could do to snatch four hours a night in between him shaking me awake urgently needing sex. Dig it, the crazy bastard had decided he had to remain celibate for me for those five years we'd been apart. Although, he'd explained with a total seriousness that cracked me right the hell up, he'd also considered "practicing" to gain skill in the sexual arts so as to please me better. But he found he just couldn't stand the thought of touching anyone else, not until he saw me again. So once again I'd become the teacher. For a little while, until the student surpassed the so-called master. Which took about three days; I kid you not, the boy had been hot to trot, back on Earth. Gaining that killer body when my spell went blooey had fired his sex drive even more. Hell, here in Khesh he was almost restrained compared to the wildcat I'd had to handle on a daily basis on Earth, where same-sex pairings were much less condoned even in Berkeley. But he'd never, ever, failed to wake me up first. Ask for permission in some way, even if he was too far gone in lust to form sentences the movements of his body against me, his hands on me, would be a silent but very eloquent request. And I don't think he'd ever gotten a refusal, not from this bad boy. What he'd never done was just fucking take what he wanted without me even being conscious. Using me, like a, like a fucking receptacle! Hadn't climbed in bed with me really, hadn't even shed his britches; what bullshit was this! Not to mention slurping on my hand, which now truly hurt so much it was making me half giddy. Humiliated and furious, I began to flail free of him. But even before I started to do so, I felt him flinch against me. Pull away with a muffled sound of horror and pain. Nah. Not just the sound of it. The Bonding had worked, on one level. We had mind-meld between us again. Or in this case, feeling-meld. His shame and disgust with himself seemed to pulse through me as well. And I suppose my hurt and outrage had come through just as clear on his end. On Earth, we'd talked in each other's heads the same as holding a conversation. This was on a more primal level. And though I had no trouble separating whose emotions belonged to who, I much preferred the cross-talk. Experiencing my bad boy's emotions like this was not a good thing. He felt things way too much, far too passionately. It damn near socked me in the teeth. It certainly knocked all the mad right outta me. My indignation was a puny force, compared to his absolute self-loathing. I'd been gonna smack him upside the head. Now, I just turned around. Studied him for a moment; he'd released my hand, which was beginning to heal again now that there wasn't some lust-crazed barbarian sucking it open. I couldn't have been asleep more than an hour, or it would've been finished before he got there. He wasn't looking at me, wasn't even near me anymore. In fact he'd pulled far enough back to actually be off the bed, kneeling beside it with his head down so I couldn't see his face through the rush of heavy midnight hair. His hands were gripping the bed furs so hard his knuckles were white. He wasn't playing me. With the Bond now between us I couldn't even pretend that. He was in agony here. So much so I was beginning to feel like I'd over-reacted just a bit. "Carson?" No answer except for quickened breathing. For all my upset with his actions, I couldn't help touching his hair. "Why?" was all I finally asked him, very calmly. No answer except for another surge of pure pain. Goddammit! If this melding had been more like it was on Earth, I woulda already known "why", without having to feel every dramatic passion he experienced! I could only hope this stuff would turn more intellectual over time, because riding the surf of someone as volatile as Carse was gonna knock me off the board and drown me pretty damn quick. As if he'd felt that thought, he slowly raised his head. I saw the flicker of his storm-blue eyes, could barely see the trace of my blood on his lips through the shadows of his hair as he whispered. "Sensei----Keith----Gwai'vharn----" "All me," I assured him, trying not to sound too crisp. I had totally woken up by now, enough to realize that something wasn't wrong just with Carson. Since when did I stagger off from a gathering like that, hurl myself into bed and zonk out? Not since I stopped doing drugs. Definitely not since becoming elvish. It was almost like a Sleep spell----but who the hell would be doing that to me? Jalin was the only other wizard in town, and even if there'd been a good reason for it the thought would've appalled him. "Carson," I blurted, "Something's really not right here----" "The Wolf Moon rises," he said rather thickly, in the same breath, finally meeting my eyes fully. His own eyes seemed to want to jerk away from mine and he physically wasn't letting them; it was painful even to watch. "I----I couldn't help myself, Hawk. Your blood----a madness rose inside me. I can never be sorry enough, for this." "Wolf Moon? Hey, it's mid-afternoon here!" His apologies were making me really uncomfortable, even though I suppose I'd have been pissed if he hadn't apologized. He shook his head strongly. "It does not matter. I feel it in my flesh, even if not yet risen in the sky. The Wolf will take me, for whatever our task here will be. It is truly the verge of the Quarters War." A bitter laugh. "Do you think I alone, would have used you so? He stands at the threshold already, if not yet in control of me totally. God-spawn or not, he will suffer for this!" Carson was getting riled; the beat of his fury filled the tent like a cold black fire. Well, it was better than the self-loathing, if no more comfortable for yours truly. Carson's rages were different than mine, more poisonous and unforgiving. Well, at least this one wasn't directed at me. "Wolf Moon----not so common," I stammered. Trying to remember when the last one had occurred. I mentioned twelve moons, right? The Wolf Moon, it was the thirteenth. The one they never mentioned. The crimson and ebony moon, filled with death and magic, that was often forgotten since it only appeared once every generation or so. We were in such deep shit with just that, I hated to mention even more crap to him. But it had to be done, dammit. I leaned forward, reached for him. He was some surprised when I kissed him, I think. Tasted my own blood on those lips. I had noticed, almost in a detached manner, that the blood wasn't exactly, well, human blood. Stuff was a dark gold like honey just out of the comb. Elf blood. Tasted sweet rather than salty. And even though it was my blood, I felt the buzz of magic on my lips as I tasted it. Oh, my. Maybe we'd gone up to the next level after all. "Babe. It's okay. I'm mostly elf now, you didn't hurt anything but my pride." And it was true, except for my own personal value system I'd found his actions majorly exciting. Elf bodies are different than human. In lotsa ways. Made for sex, formed for pleasure however it came. No, didn't wanna think about that! "But if you try it again wake me up first, right? Because next time I WILL kick your fucking ass!" I meant it, too. Even a guy like me has some principles, dammit. One is, you don't boink me without inviting me to participate. It was the right approach to take. The frozen, haggard expression eased a trifle. If not quite becoming happy. "My own," he whispered, finally reaching for me as himself. We hugged for a second, then released. And then he proved he was all the way back, by focusing on me keenly. Oh, those blazing blue eyes. Windows to the soul? Always, in his case. Strength so allied with beauty and truth there was absolutely no seam between all of them. Never let him go. Fight for him----you betcha. I didn't even know what prompted the thought. "Something is not right, you said. You meant beyond what I----did to you." Ah, shit. Here we go. "There's another darkangel out there, Carse." To try and soften it, not lay it right on the line, would be to disrespect him. And I would never do that. "I mean in this world. And I don't know which of us it's after, but something tells me it's not here just to look at the beautiful Khesh scenery." Things fall apart. The center does not hold. Didn't I learn that on Earth somewhere? There was a poet I studied. There was stuff I learned. Yeats, that was his name. Crazy old Yeats. Sometimes, things fall apart no matter what you do. His head came up sharply. For the first time in many years, I thought I saw something like fear in those arrogant blue eyes. He masked it quickly with anger. He didn't need to. Saying it out loud had finally brought terror home to me, as well. Some things are so bad, they hit you in the gut and there's nothing you can say to make it better. I tried, though. "Shit, we kicked ass on one of those clowns back on Earth, Carse. We can do it again. No biggie." He ignored my attempt at lightening things up. Instead, he crawled back onto the bed; still dressed of course, battle leathers. That's what you wore when you addressed a War Council. Cobalt blue on ebony. He'd strictly tucked his cock away while we were talking. He would never touch me again, unless I reached out first, gave him six kinds of permission. What an asshole! I reached out determinedly and snagged him into a hug. "Carson. We're Bonded now." His heavy sweeping brows drew into a frown. "Does this mean you think facing a Darkangel will be easy?" Ah----no. I meant, you didn't need to feel sorry for anything, didn't need to stop touching me no matter what happens. Crap, maybe that thought had been too Hollywood and he'd ignored it. Couldn't blame him for that. Almost on the instant, though, his face changed and he pulled me close. "I have no doubt of that. We will forgive each other----any stupidity. Though make-up sex will be more than pleasant." "Make-up sex my ass!" I squawked automatically. Then had to think, oops. Gotta be a better way to put it. He smiled at me, eyes dancing. "Get dressed," he said, kindly. "I cannot think of politics, war or darkangels while you kneel there naked glaring at me in such a way." I gave him a look, hopped up, and put my pants on. Doing it slowly, not so politely either. Although I forgave him and then some, I hadn't asked to be jumped in the sack like that. I felt a little like turning him on and then telling him to go fish. Though of course I would never do that. "Keith," he then said, very quietly, once I was dressed and ready for it. His deep blue eyes were deadly serious on mine. "You felt a Darkangel? You are sure of it?" "I----Jalin said he felt someone using Dragonmagic. And then I, well, don't know if I felt it so much as remembered----" "I, too," he interrupted, eyes grave. "I remembered. And Smitty will be here shortly. She wishes to speak to us." I groaned. Could my day get any worse? "And Asher also, wished to tell you----" My eyes snapped open. I was saying hurtful shit before I even thought about it. "Asher. Oh, yeah. Your other boink. You mean he wasn't just standing there watching while you boned me?" He stared at me. Hell, I would've stared at me if I'd been able to. I couldn't believe I'd let that shoot out of my mouth. "Asher? You are jealous of----Asher?" He said it like he thought I was hallucinating. I couldn't believe I was gonna say a lot more here. Mean and hurtful stuff. "You said you banged a load of chicks. Never another guy. 'Not even to keep back the loneliness.' What the hell is he, a babe with a beard? A politically correct beard even, not tribal at all. Marin rich boy more like it! I can't believe you banged this yuppie, this Errol Flynn wannabe!" I was speaking off a wave of pain that surprised even me with its intensity. Oh God, Carson. He was studying me, as coldly as I deserved. And yet, there was some other expression there. Something almost----furtive? "I did not. I never touched him." His voice was flat. "But you wanted to." My voice was even flatter. His mouth twitched. His eyes dropped. I had him bagged, filleted, shiskabobbed. Why didn't I feel the least bit good about it? "He reminded me of you," he whispered. I just absolutely stared at him. "We don't look a thing alike," was all I could finally offer. And it was true. That romantically sexy-looking devil and me were light-years apart. "He made me laugh." It was a whispered apology, almost. "It had been so long, since I----laughed. Since---you." I felt sickness rising in me. Somehow, this confession wounded me worse than if Carson had said they banged each other on a daily basis. He made Carson laugh. Oh, God. I can barely explain how much that hurt me. He knew it too, of course. He made a muffled sound, reached for me. And like a cold wind moaning, I felt it. Ice and steel. "Carson," I whispered. We were something other. Whether magic had risen between us or not, there was something between us that defied magic. Defied reason. "I don't care." I meant it. Whatever had been between him and this Asher fruitcake was----irrelevant. Crazed song lyrics, running though my head. Meaning more than they ever had even when I was high on acid. Starship. No Starships in this place, but magic was the same thing really. //I feel that I've lived my life long, just waiting for this day to dawn. We're more than just ashes, our spirits are more than just dust Ancient we stood in the sun. Older when time first begun. Now by the light shining through from within we'll find our way back to the stars once again.// Silver the lightning that shattered the lock on my door. Oh, God. Carson. "I love you." I said it finally. It came out of me like sunlight, like fire magic. Like I had found wings on my back and was learning to fly. And I meant it. Meant it meant it meant it. He was staring at me. Well, had I given him good reason or not? Very slowly, he smiled. Reached for me. His voice was softly sexy. "You are insane. You have smoked pot, although where you found it on this world----Ah. There are plants near the forest, somewhat similar though stronger.. Though I wouldn 't think you had time to dry them. Or you have overindulged in Blue Death. Though you do not smell of it----" I glared at him, outraged. I give the bastard mush and this is what I get? "I meant it dammit!!!!!" And he knew it too. Through this strange new bond of ours, he had to know it! "Now I truly know we are going to die." His mouth on mine was sheer bliss. No it wasn't. The bastard! "I hate you, you prick!" His mouth was soft against my ear. "We will meet this darkangel. We will kill it. It will be a stronger force here. Do you not realize that the one you vanquished must have come from Khesh?" I pulled back. Stared at him, appalled. Knowing he was right just made it that much worse. "It was weak, in such a place as Earth." He stated it calmly, as if it didn't matter. "The one we face here will be in full power. A very evil thing. A monster." "You sound like you relish the thought. You are one dumb dipshit!" It was true, and I could hardly believe it. He laughed at me, and reeled me in. "You said you loved me." His voice was a dark magic inside my brain. Inside my ear, where his tongue was now. Oh hell I had said that hasn't I? "I can do anything now," he breathed. "Defeat anything." "You always could, you dumbass," I whispered back. A tongue inside an elf ear was unfair. Inspired mush. Inspired lust. Inspired all kindsa stuff----- And like the cold rebuttal to both our remarks, Smitty's voice was in the tent. "Uh----guys? Hate to break this up, but we do need to talk----since you left the council a bit abruptly, uh, well, there's more stuff you need to----" I gave out with a groan. The bitch's timing was as bad as ever. "Mind if I put some fucking pants on first?!!!?" I damn near screamed it, I was so frustrated. And even with the threat of war, darkangel, strange destiny hanging over us----- Carson fell back on the bed, and began to laugh helplessly. Beautiful, exuberant laughter. Joy-of-living type laughter. Damn. Even when I was so pissed off I could barely see straight, I really loved him laughing.