Post by greenie on Aug 26, 2009 22:42:58 GMT 10
Title: Three's a crowd
Rating: R
Words: 806
Pairing: Goodwin/Tunstall/Lord Gershom.
Summary: Clary Goodwin gets a nasty shock when she wakes up...
A/N: It's definitely peculiar, but not exactly a pairing. A peculiar peculiar pairing? Anyway, if it doesn't count then just move it to Tortallan Fanfiction or delete it.
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Clary opened her eyes, winced, and quickly shut them again. “Gods, my head.”
“It couldn’t possibly be worse than mine,” said a voice that most definitely wasn’t Tom’s. She swore.
“Clary?” asked the voice, sounding horrified. She felt his body rolling over and she forced her eyes open again, to find herself face to face with her watch partner.
“Mattes? Oh, gods.” There wasn’t any point in checking hopefully to see if she was wearing anything; she could feel her bare body pressed up against his. She shoved him away and went to move away herself when she realised she couldn’t. She saw Mattes looking over her shoulder, a stunned look of shock on his face. Apparently the warmth on her back wasn’t just from the bed. She rolled over and saw Lord Gershom blinking his eyes sleepily.
He rubbed his eyes and stared back at her, blinking until his eyes focused. “Clary? Mattes?”
They all swore in unison.
Clary sat up to get away from them. “What are we doing here?” she asked, holding her aching head in her hands. “I don’t remember anything.”
“I invited you both for dinner,” said the Lord Provost. “That much I remember.”
“And then we all enjoyed your alcohol a little too much,” added Mattes.
Clary snorted. That had to be the biggest understatement she’d heard in months. She supposed it wasn’t surprising that she had such a headache, considering the amount of empty bottles scattered around the room. She turned as she felt a hand snaking around her collarbone. Mattes caught hold of the chain with her pregnancy charm on it, looked at it to double check, and then heaved a sigh of relief.
“Gods, we didn’t,” she said, still hoping she could convince herself that they’d simply decided to take their clothes off and go to sleep. Even as she said it, flashes of memory came flooding back: skin on skin. Hands, fingers, lips, tongues, and…other parts. Everywhere. And pleasure, lots and lots of pleasure.
How was she supposed to ever look at either of them again without picturing those images in her mind?
She let out a fluent stream of curses, adding to them as she realised they were both looking at the exposed parts of her body with appreciative interest. “You coves are all the same,” she grumbled. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been in the public baths with men before, Mattes had seen her bare plenty of times. But it was definitely different now.
She gave Mattes a strong shove, forcing him to get out of bed. She scrambled out after him. “You can help me find my sarden clothes. I have to get home now, Tom’s going to be worried.”
“He knows you can look out for yourself. If you were injured or killed on the way home, he would’ve heard by now.”
“If I’d been drinking, it would’ve been easier for someone to snatch me off the street.”
“I suppose that’s plausible,” said Lord Gershom, stretching as he climbed out of bed too. He tossed Clary her breastband. “Is he going to be angry?”
“Tom?” Mattes laughed. “I don’t think he could be angry if he tried.”
Clary’s mouth twitched in a tiny smile. “I don’t think my Tomlan’s ever said an angry word in his life,” she said as she began to pull her clothes on. “He’s strong enough to send me flying with one blow if he wanted to, but the thought wouldn’t even occur to him. The worst he might do is tell me he’s disappointed or ashamed of me. He’ll probably just be relieved I’m unharmed and then sit there laughing at me while I try to apologise. Then he’ll remind me that my body is my own to do what I want with, and that if I regret something I’ve done, then it’s my own fault and none of his business.”
“Why can I never meet women like that?” complained Mattes. “Does he have any sisters?”
“They’re all married.” Clary gave him a solid poke in the chest for emphasis. “Don’t even think about it.” She looked in the mirror and swore again. “That’ll have to do for now, I’ll bathe when I get home.” She fixed both men with a glare. She shouldn’t really be glaring at a nobleman like that, but after their activities last night, there was no sense in being perfectly proper right now. “I had better not hear this mentioned ever again.”
Both men hastily agreed. It would be embarrassing enough for people to find out what had happened, but it would also affect their reputations as members of the Provost’s Guard.
“Good,” she said satisfied. She set off for home as quickly as possible, deliberately pushing all thoughts about how awkward watch would be that evening right out of her mind.
Rating: R
Words: 806
Pairing: Goodwin/Tunstall/Lord Gershom.
Summary: Clary Goodwin gets a nasty shock when she wakes up...
A/N: It's definitely peculiar, but not exactly a pairing. A peculiar peculiar pairing? Anyway, if it doesn't count then just move it to Tortallan Fanfiction or delete it.
.....................................................................
Clary opened her eyes, winced, and quickly shut them again. “Gods, my head.”
“It couldn’t possibly be worse than mine,” said a voice that most definitely wasn’t Tom’s. She swore.
“Clary?” asked the voice, sounding horrified. She felt his body rolling over and she forced her eyes open again, to find herself face to face with her watch partner.
“Mattes? Oh, gods.” There wasn’t any point in checking hopefully to see if she was wearing anything; she could feel her bare body pressed up against his. She shoved him away and went to move away herself when she realised she couldn’t. She saw Mattes looking over her shoulder, a stunned look of shock on his face. Apparently the warmth on her back wasn’t just from the bed. She rolled over and saw Lord Gershom blinking his eyes sleepily.
He rubbed his eyes and stared back at her, blinking until his eyes focused. “Clary? Mattes?”
They all swore in unison.
Clary sat up to get away from them. “What are we doing here?” she asked, holding her aching head in her hands. “I don’t remember anything.”
“I invited you both for dinner,” said the Lord Provost. “That much I remember.”
“And then we all enjoyed your alcohol a little too much,” added Mattes.
Clary snorted. That had to be the biggest understatement she’d heard in months. She supposed it wasn’t surprising that she had such a headache, considering the amount of empty bottles scattered around the room. She turned as she felt a hand snaking around her collarbone. Mattes caught hold of the chain with her pregnancy charm on it, looked at it to double check, and then heaved a sigh of relief.
“Gods, we didn’t,” she said, still hoping she could convince herself that they’d simply decided to take their clothes off and go to sleep. Even as she said it, flashes of memory came flooding back: skin on skin. Hands, fingers, lips, tongues, and…other parts. Everywhere. And pleasure, lots and lots of pleasure.
How was she supposed to ever look at either of them again without picturing those images in her mind?
She let out a fluent stream of curses, adding to them as she realised they were both looking at the exposed parts of her body with appreciative interest. “You coves are all the same,” she grumbled. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been in the public baths with men before, Mattes had seen her bare plenty of times. But it was definitely different now.
She gave Mattes a strong shove, forcing him to get out of bed. She scrambled out after him. “You can help me find my sarden clothes. I have to get home now, Tom’s going to be worried.”
“He knows you can look out for yourself. If you were injured or killed on the way home, he would’ve heard by now.”
“If I’d been drinking, it would’ve been easier for someone to snatch me off the street.”
“I suppose that’s plausible,” said Lord Gershom, stretching as he climbed out of bed too. He tossed Clary her breastband. “Is he going to be angry?”
“Tom?” Mattes laughed. “I don’t think he could be angry if he tried.”
Clary’s mouth twitched in a tiny smile. “I don’t think my Tomlan’s ever said an angry word in his life,” she said as she began to pull her clothes on. “He’s strong enough to send me flying with one blow if he wanted to, but the thought wouldn’t even occur to him. The worst he might do is tell me he’s disappointed or ashamed of me. He’ll probably just be relieved I’m unharmed and then sit there laughing at me while I try to apologise. Then he’ll remind me that my body is my own to do what I want with, and that if I regret something I’ve done, then it’s my own fault and none of his business.”
“Why can I never meet women like that?” complained Mattes. “Does he have any sisters?”
“They’re all married.” Clary gave him a solid poke in the chest for emphasis. “Don’t even think about it.” She looked in the mirror and swore again. “That’ll have to do for now, I’ll bathe when I get home.” She fixed both men with a glare. She shouldn’t really be glaring at a nobleman like that, but after their activities last night, there was no sense in being perfectly proper right now. “I had better not hear this mentioned ever again.”
Both men hastily agreed. It would be embarrassing enough for people to find out what had happened, but it would also affect their reputations as members of the Provost’s Guard.
“Good,” she said satisfied. She set off for home as quickly as possible, deliberately pushing all thoughts about how awkward watch would be that evening right out of her mind.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!