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Fic: Runaway Princess
Title: Runaway Princess
Author: Erin (erinm_4600)
Characters: Jeb and DG (mention of Cain)
Rating: high-PG-13
Summary: DG "ran away" from home and Jeb knows where to find her.
Warning: post-series *Written for tinman100's Challenge 24. And this is why the verse is referred to as "chair!fic"...
Disclaimer: The original characters belong to L. Frank Baum and their respective actors. The current characters belong to Sci-Fi, the movie folks and their respective actors. The OCs are mine.
This love is difficult | ...but it's real | Focus | Runaway Princess | The Queen's Plot
Jeb pulled the reins of his horse to one side, directing the horse toward the small pen where DG's hijacked ride was grazing contentedly. Jeb climbed down and led the horse to the gate, smiling as the horse nudged him. He watched the two horses assess each other for a moment and closed the gate before turning toward DG.
He knew she was aware of his presence, so he didn't rush to her side. Moving in front of the old cabin, his home, Jeb stopped near the spot the old suit once sat and waited for her to acknowledge him.
"Y’know," she started, "I could call up a travel storm and-" Shaking her head slowly, DG turned but didn't look at Jeb. "I could disappear. And not even the expert tracker would be able to find me," she finished, finally looking at Jeb.
DG threw another glance over her shoulder and moved toward Jeb with a deep breath. The second sun was beginning to set and the first was almost gone from the horizon. A light breeze ruffled the ends of DG's skirt and Jeb wondered how she'd managed to ride comfortably in a dress.
"Sometimes, I'm jealous of you."
"Why do you say that?" Jeb asked, following DG toward the cabin.
"You can do whatever you want, whenever you want." She leaned against the counter for a moment and turned around, crossing her arms. "You have freedom," she added, rolling her eyes in frustration.
Jeb smiled lightly and shrugged. "I'm sure there are advantages to being born into royalty," he mused. DG held a blank expression, curious to hear his defense. "For instance," he waved a hand. "If you want fish served on Saturday, you simply make a royal decree and-" Jeb snapped his fingers. "Fish served on Saturday."
"You want to see the stablehands' bloomers flapping in the wind-" Jeb trailed, shrugging as he sat in the chair closest to her. He laughed as DG shook her head.
Sometimes, she worried about his mental state.
Jeb raised an eyebrow as DG dropped down to the same chair, straddling him. "So," she asked as her arms went around his neck, "if I wanted to screw your brains out, right here in this chair?"
"Is it a royal decree?" he asked as his hands found her hips.
DG leaned closer and dropped her voice. "Do you want it to be?"
Jeb started pressing kisses to DG's neck, tracing the hem of her neckline and cursing the fact that she was wearing a full dress instead of a blouse. DG made fast work of untucking his shirt and Jeb's breath caught as her fingers reached his stomach - he wasn't ticklish, but her touch was sending shivers up his spine - then the hem of his pants.
Running his hands up her arms, Jeb finally caught her hands in his and their fingers interlocked. DG forced herself to pull away from him and they stared at each other for a few moments, smiling.
DG lifted herself up just enough that Jeb could shift the layers of fabric and, a moment later, the two of them were smack in the middle of a practiced act - one they’d seemed to have perfected after a few tries.
After all, practice makes perfect. And, oh... had they been practicing.
DG's hands moved to the back of the chair and the chair groaned beneath them. Both Jeb and DG knew that, one of these days, that chair was going to break. And that would be a sad day, indeed.
Luckily, there were three other chairs at the table.
Author: Erin (erinm_4600)
Characters: Jeb and DG (mention of Cain)
Rating: high-PG-13
Summary: DG "ran away" from home and Jeb knows where to find her.
Warning: post-series *Written for tinman100's Challenge 24. And this is why the verse is referred to as "chair!fic"...
Disclaimer: The original characters belong to L. Frank Baum and their respective actors. The current characters belong to Sci-Fi, the movie folks and their respective actors. The OCs are mine.
This love is difficult | ...but it's real | Focus | Runaway Princess | The Queen's Plot
Jeb pulled the reins of his horse to one side, directing the horse toward the small pen where DG's hijacked ride was grazing contentedly. Jeb climbed down and led the horse to the gate, smiling as the horse nudged him. He watched the two horses assess each other for a moment and closed the gate before turning toward DG.
He knew she was aware of his presence, so he didn't rush to her side. Moving in front of the old cabin, his home, Jeb stopped near the spot the old suit once sat and waited for her to acknowledge him.
"Y’know," she started, "I could call up a travel storm and-" Shaking her head slowly, DG turned but didn't look at Jeb. "I could disappear. And not even the expert tracker would be able to find me," she finished, finally looking at Jeb.
DG threw another glance over her shoulder and moved toward Jeb with a deep breath. The second sun was beginning to set and the first was almost gone from the horizon. A light breeze ruffled the ends of DG's skirt and Jeb wondered how she'd managed to ride comfortably in a dress.
"Sometimes, I'm jealous of you."
"Why do you say that?" Jeb asked, following DG toward the cabin.
"You can do whatever you want, whenever you want." She leaned against the counter for a moment and turned around, crossing her arms. "You have freedom," she added, rolling her eyes in frustration.
Jeb smiled lightly and shrugged. "I'm sure there are advantages to being born into royalty," he mused. DG held a blank expression, curious to hear his defense. "For instance," he waved a hand. "If you want fish served on Saturday, you simply make a royal decree and-" Jeb snapped his fingers. "Fish served on Saturday."
"You want to see the stablehands' bloomers flapping in the wind-" Jeb trailed, shrugging as he sat in the chair closest to her. He laughed as DG shook her head.
Sometimes, she worried about his mental state.
Jeb raised an eyebrow as DG dropped down to the same chair, straddling him. "So," she asked as her arms went around his neck, "if I wanted to screw your brains out, right here in this chair?"
"Is it a royal decree?" he asked as his hands found her hips.
DG leaned closer and dropped her voice. "Do you want it to be?"
Jeb started pressing kisses to DG's neck, tracing the hem of her neckline and cursing the fact that she was wearing a full dress instead of a blouse. DG made fast work of untucking his shirt and Jeb's breath caught as her fingers reached his stomach - he wasn't ticklish, but her touch was sending shivers up his spine - then the hem of his pants.
Running his hands up her arms, Jeb finally caught her hands in his and their fingers interlocked. DG forced herself to pull away from him and they stared at each other for a few moments, smiling.
DG lifted herself up just enough that Jeb could shift the layers of fabric and, a moment later, the two of them were smack in the middle of a practiced act - one they’d seemed to have perfected after a few tries.
After all, practice makes perfect. And, oh... had they been practicing.
DG's hands moved to the back of the chair and the chair groaned beneath them. Both Jeb and DG knew that, one of these days, that chair was going to break. And that would be a sad day, indeed.
Luckily, there were three other chairs at the table.