83; action/dictated

[gottaknockhard]

( Queen Anne )

[Spike hasn't heard from her since this started, which could mean she went the way Brock did in the middle of the night. He's practically hoping for that when he gets wind of the other way that people have gone missing.

With a calm voice, he dictates to the journal. He's already on his way to her room, but at least he's giving her a warning for once.]

This may be a good time to find a quiet place in town for a few days. I'll be by in a little while. [As if he isn't going to insist on going with her, at least until he's set her up somewhere with a more predictable lock. She can be mad at him later.]

---

[The mirrors that overtook the halls really add a nice touch to the disorienting atmosphere. He closes the door to his room after a mildly successful rounding of supplies, and uses the journal to avoid looking at the walls.

It only occurs to him then that he's forgetting something. Although as frequently as the dog has to take care of himself, he wouldn't be surprised if Ein wasn't already five steps ahead of him. He sounds tired, rather than panicked, but you can't account for sleep around here.]

To top it off, the dog got out. Talk about your bad luck.

Comments

[ensorceler]

[ Her nails dig in, and there's a huff at his continued use of vague fancies. Were he not so utterly clueless, he could have mastered the courtly arts. ]

Then they are lost. I am not.

[gottaknockhard]

[At this point, he may be doing it more on purpose than out of habit.]

Not yet.

[ensorceler]

[ It's despicable how much he still tries to seem heroic or earnest. Has he fooled himself?

Her grip immediately relaxes, fingers gliding along the back of his hand as if to soothe the sharpness moments earlier. As mercurial as ever, her voice becomes more of a coo. ]

Is it so much easier to fail me than to fail others?

[gottaknockhard]

[It seems like it. His hand aches more than it should when she releases her grip, but that could be in his mind.]

They don't all have your standards.

[ensorceler]

Only more-so why you should find it more difficult to betray me. If not for respect of my standards...

[ Slowly, she pulls his hand from beneath the skirts, away from her leg and up to her breast. Pressing his palm to the center where bodice meets skin, Anne holds it there. ]

Then for love of me.

[gottaknockhard]

[Spike doesn't try to resist or move his hand away, too occupied with reading between her lines and feeling her chest rise and fall. Either she suspects that's the reason he came, or she knows exactly how to pull his strings. The timing couldn't be worse, and she knows that too.

In his mind, he's kissing her before his body ever rises, and it doesn't catch up with him when he leans into her. Calling her bluff, as if taking it as far as her dignity will allow is a way to prove a point. -- All while he tries to remember someone else's face, but it never comes to him. Even with all the talk about betrayal and lost causes.

It's a surprise he has time to think about any of the dangers around them. Or maybe that's his secret.]

[ensorceler]

[ She doesn't immediately turn him away, both hands flying grip at the back of his neck, nearly pulling him right on top of her. Breaths hot and shallow, Anne breaks the kiss only to follow with several small ones.

But even if they have claimed her marriage to Henry not lawful, that she is no longer a queen, she must hold as strong as Katherine had on this front. More-so, since she knows it even more her right. And it's these thoughts that remind her of her place, and his, so with fingers twisting roughly in his mussed hair, she yanks him back and away from her.

Then she lets go, touch immediately softening despite how she presses to his chest to urge him away. ]

[gottaknockhard]

[If he'd been looking for a signal, her response is enough to encourage him, and he falls in place far easier than he should. However interchangeable he might be in her mind, he would be a hypocrite to be offended when he'd been trying to imagine her as someone else. She hates that. Knowing this, he still wonders if it's the same spark that comes from living in spite of a doomed existence that attracted him. They make a good pair that way, although the complexity of that thought, or how true it actually is, erases itself sometime between the first and second contact.

The sharp tug at his hair pulls him out of it, barely, and soon after he's puzzling over the mixed signals. He takes in a few calming breaths, but doesn't move further than the wedge she placed between them.

This isn't the first time he's left questioning what she wants from him. It's not fair to ask, so he doesn't, and yet still he seems to be waiting for the answer.]