multiversallogs | Those very rare occasions don't let up, they keep on coming

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Those very rare occasions don't let up, they keep on coming

Who: Apollo and Cassandra
What: The inevitable awkward conversation following a drunken encounter
Where: The Valhalla Inn
When: The night after this
Notes: None
Warnings: Sexual tension and snippy, blunt honesty

The Valhalla Inn was starting to get claustrophobic. Cassandra felt trapped. It was ridiculous, of course. She wasn't a prisoner as she had been on the caravan, as she had been in Willaknapp. Nor was she, as far as she knew, under the sway of the natives of Baedal, as she had been in Rowan. Still, she was anxious to get out. The thought of having a place of her own was appealing, but Cassandra knew herself well enough to know that if she couldn't find someone to share a flat with, she would likely go off the deep end again. When she was alone all the time, she withdrew. She lived up to certain expectations. No, it was definitely better for her to find an anchor, someone she could trust to keep her sane.

For now, however, the only way to relieve the claustrophobia was to keep the door to her room propped open.

Cassandra lay on her stomach, across the foot of her bed, lazily scanning her CiD, examining various network posts. She was finally beginning to get a sense of some of these people, but so far, Ianto--and by default, Jack--were the only ones she felt comfortable telling about her visions. With the monster attacks so fresh in her mind, she felt no end to the frustration about the fact that her dire warnings had not yielded any kind of results. Then again, what could she do? Certainly, she couldn't tell the militia or these Hellsing people. Neither party had demonstrated much to give her any kind of faith. Of course, it would be easier to just try to live a normal life and pretend the visions didn't happen.

But that would be a lie.

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"I don't mind," he answered honestly. If he'd wanted to make her be quiet, he could have kissed her half an hour ago. She was clearly willing and receptive, but he enjoyed listening to her--especially when she wasn't chastising him or screaming.

"And you may be right," he admitted. "I don't know what it is. The situation has changed so much, I'm not sure what the trigger was."

Cassandra was pretty sure she knew what the trigger was; it was during the vampire incident, when she attacked Apollo. And she was pretty sure she knew why that was the trigger. For a moment, the balance of power had shifted between them. For the first, and probably only, time, she had been the one who could dominate him. That balance had shifted back again, but it had left them on more even footing. He still had his powers, to be certain, but they were reduced so much that maybe, just maybe, he couldn't hold them over her anymore.

Not as much anyway.

But the trigger wasn't the thing that seemed to be sustaining this affair. It had to be something else. Maybe it was an outsider's perspective. Maybe it was something else entirely. "Well," she murmured, "I'll figure it out. I need something to do besides mend broken seams."

"Well, I am very, very handsome, you know," he said with a teasing lilt to his voice. He leaned in and pushed her hair over her shoulders, planting kisses along her ear, pausing to nibble on her lobe.

His hands settled on her waist, and he was struck by how tiny it was. He liked that. It made him feel large and powerful and very manly.

"How were you expecting to resist me?"

"I've had twelve years of practice at it," she replied dryly. But she managed to smile nevertheless. Even when she was furious, even when she was insane, even when she was at her worst, there was no way to deny the fact that Apollo was, in all honesty, very, very handsome.

She glanced down at his hands on her waist. She had not been this thin, back when they met, which was saying something. Years of malnutrition had certainly done a lot of damage, but she was stronger than she looked. Lightly, she lay her hands over his.

"The better question, in my opinion, is how you plan to resist me," she countered.

Apollo gave a throaty, strained laugh as he rubbed his face against her neck. She smelled fantastic. It was overpowering--which sort of made her question that much more amusing.

"I don't plan to resist you," he announced, giving her waist a light squeeze. "I very much plan on giving in to the temptation."

She closed her eyes, enjoying the brush of his skin against hers. This was progress. She never thought she would ever get to a point in her life where she would be able to deal with his, or any man's, touch. Thankfully, she had somehow recovered that part of her humanity. And that was a very good thing, or else, she thought, she would be missing out on an experience that was very central to being human.

"Unsurprised," she murmured. Cassandra wasn't entirely sure if that was a word or not, but at the moment, she didn't particularly care.

Cassandra let go of his hands, snaking one arm around his shoulder, up into his hair. The other hand lightly trailed down his arm. This was so different from the shower. And the balcony. Despite all of her protestations to the contrary it was...romantic. And maybe even sincere. The two could go together.

Apollo slid his hands up Cassandra's legs, sliding the skirt up, until his hands rested on her thighs. He brushed his thumb against the skin there, tempted to look down, but he kept his eyes on hers.

"Is that a problem?"

Cassandra shivered. "No," she said quietly, "I don't think it is."

She swept her fingers down the side of his face, along his jaw, drawing his face forward, toward hers. Lightly, she brushed her lips against his, unable to conceal the tiniest of smirks. There was nothing at all funny about it. Maybe that's why she was so amused.

Did that even make sense?

"No laughing. You'll hurt my feelings."

Gently, but insistently, Apollo guided her into a deeper kiss, fingers of one hand lightly gripping her hips while the other hand cupped the back of his head.

He pressed her closer, chest against chest, careful to avoid hurting her. It was tempting, though. She was fragile, and he was in no mood to be terribly gentle.

She kissed him back, trying to decide which she liked better; the warmth of his lips or the fact that his pulse was beating against her chest. The pulse, she decided. Any god could kiss (and she was pretty sure most of them did with alarming frequency). But feeling a god's heart beat, his breath, his warmth, all of that made for a remarkable experience.

After a minute, or an hour, or something like that, Cassandra broke the kiss, taking a deep, gasping breath. "No laughing," she whispered. "I promise you."

And with that, she kissed him again.

Later, Apollo was holding Cassandra in his arms, his fingertips absently brushing along her arm as he examined the ceiling. Third time's the charm--he'd heard the expression recently. While he didn't know what made the third time any more magical than the first two, he couldn't help thinking now that the expression didn't seem to be entirely false.

He glanced down at Cassandra, but her hair was shielding her face. "Are you awake?" he whispered softly.

Making a soft noise that wasn't quite a moan, Cassandra brushed her hair away from her face. "Yes." It was quite the question. Frankly, sleep seemed absurd right now. Every nerve ending was singing. Which she was sure, she'd later think was a ridiculous analogy. But now wasn't later. Now was now. And now was incredible.

She rolled onto her back, looking up at him.

Apollo was so utterly beautiful.

"Three," she said quietly. "A record."

Vaguely, she wondered if it was as much a record for him as it was for her. Fidelity had never been one of his fortes. But things were changing now, so that didn't bother her nearly as much as it used to.

He looked back down at her, smiling a smile that could almost be described as gentle.

"Hopefully it's going to be beaten soon enough," he replied, a lazy, teasing lilt to his voice. "I'm going to be very disappointed otherwise."

He continued brushing his fingertips against her arm, enjoying the softness of her skin. "And how does it compare to your previous experiences?"

She smiles faintly. "I think it should be obvious that you're much gentler than Ajax," she said. "And there was none of this," she gestured to his fingers against her arm, "after that. Mostly just pain and...blood."

For a moment, Cassandra paused, unhappily trapped in that memory, but a sudden, jarring thought roused her. "Do people actually talk about this sort of thing?" she asked. "Comparing one to another? Is that a normal thing to do or is it...unique to you?"

She honestly had no idea.

"If so, I'm afraid to ask you the same question..."

Apollo stared down at her, momentarily horrified by the talk of the pain and blood.

"What? No. Wait, what?"

He cleared his throat, shaking his head. "I had meant, how did it compare to the last two times?" He really had no desire to hear how magical and loving it had been with Othryoneus. He might have to bite a pillow if she began talking about that.

"Oh."

That was slightly embarrassing.

Cassandra was silent a moment before continuing on, a bit quieter than before. "Not as...exciting as the showers," she said lightly. "But better in some ways. Nicer. Sweeter." She frowned. "I'm not sure I have the right words for this yet."

Slightly pink, she turned to look up at him. "Maybe you have them?"

She was blushing.

Apollo tried to remember if he had ever seen her blush. Maybe, back when he had first introduced himself to her. Back when she had still been enthralled by him. But not as an adult, no. She was always above emotions such as shame. Always in control, never flustered.

"Tender?" he ventured to guess. "Affectionate?"

He realized that he was just offering the emotions that he had been feeling himself. Not that he would ever admit to that.

"Yes!" She was a bit more enthusiastic than she intended to be, but those were the precise words she had been looking for. Tender. Affectionate. Words, honestly, that she never would have thought to attach to Apollo. "Both of those would suffice..."

She cleared her throat, shutting her mouth. It seemed to be a little out of control at the moment. Could she blame that on...recent events? Maybe. After all, she didn't know all of the side effects. Aside from pregnancy, of course.

And that reminded her of the tea shop she had visited in town.

Sitting up on her elbow, she reached over to the drawer of her nightstand, pulling it open and taking out a small packet of tea leaves. For the life of her, she could not explain why she had purchased it. She may have been a prophet, but even she couldn't have foreseen tonight.

Well, not for certain, anyway.

Apollo chuckled at the enthusiasm. "I'm glad you approve of the word choice." He made a noise of protest as she sat up, but when he spotted what she was doing, his brow furrowed. Was now really the time to brew a cup of tea?

"What's that?"

Cassandra lay down again, examining the packet in her hands. She didn't really know how to use it. She had only very recently become aware of tea at all. And as for this...this special tea? A completely alien concept to her.

"A precaution," she said quietly, holding the package out for Apollo to see. "Or so I'm told."

"Precaution against what?" he said, taking the package and examining it. He'd tried tea on the caravan. Hadn't cared for it--a little bitter for his tastes, frankly.

"Thirst?"

She laughed a little. Not because it was funny. It really wasn't. But she was suddenly a little bit uncomfortable with the conversation; admittedly, foolish in light of how much more compromising things had been than a few words here and there. But words were hard.

"Pregnancy," she said awkwardly. "I know I'm too thin, but given all of the world-hopping and strange occurrences and such..." What could she say? Nothing.

She shrugged.

"Oh," he said and quickly handed the box back to her. "Yes--yes, you should take care of that."

The last thing they needed in a world like this was a shrieking infant. And Cassandra was not incorrect--she was thin, and her body probably couldn't handle a pregnancy right now. He had children. He did not, as a rule, care for tiny humans. They became increasingly more interesting as they grew older.

Cassandra took it, setting it back on the nightstand. She was fairly certain that she could brew it in the morning. It would, however, serve as a convenient excuse, if she needed a quick escape. Unfortunately, this was her room, so any escape would likely lead to an uncomfortable situation for both of them over the next few days. Hopefully, that wouldn't have to happen.

Apollo's reaction was a bit...unsettling. She knew he had many, many children. One for every lover. And while she did not fancy being added to that list, it bothered her that he seemed so...squeamish.

She wondered how many of them he even knew.

"I guess," she said, trying to shift the mood, "I...some part of me...thought we might end up here."

"I know," he soothed her, stroking her arm again. "I know. I did too."

Not so much thought as knew, but he didn't need to play the cocky card right now. They were in bed together, he didn't want to risk chasing her away.

"Is it still all right if I stay?"

Those very rare occasions don't let up, they keep on coming

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