SyFy Alice: Ten of Clubs/Duchess: Always
Title: Always
Author: mistress_britt
Fandom: SyFy Alice
Characters: Ten of Clubs/Duchess
Word Count: 808
Rating: PG-13
Summary: He tries to pretend that her scalp doesn’t smell like vanilla, like warm ice cream. His vice.
Disclaimer: Characters aren’t mine.
Author's Notes: Reviews are nice. Semi spoilers if you haven’t seen part 2. I made up Ten of Clubs’s “real” name because honestly I don’t think she’s going to call him Ten. Also you may suffer a possible fluff overdose from this.
She’s clearly intoxicated when she stumbles into his chambers. She lets out a light giggle; cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink and her red lips shiny. Too much of her creamy skin is exposed, although that’s never been particularly unusual for her. The Ten of Clubs swallows; part of him wishing this was a dream and part of him wishing that this was real. He’s fantasized plenty of nights about her wandering into his bedroom and professing her love for him. Jack has never deserved her.
“Duchess?” he asks not because he doesn’t recognize her, he just wants to make sure she’s coherent.
“My dear, dear friend, aren’t you so happy that we won?” Duchess grins as she slowly walks over to him. He’s grateful that she doesn’t fall onto her face, but her bare legs are visibly trembling with each step.
He offers her a kind smile when he catches her by her arms. “Very, my dear friend." They had been friends since childhood, a relationship that has only grown closer since they were given places in the castle.
She laughs happily and then her face falls. “Oh, I’m suddenly so cold,” she whispers.
“I’m not surprised, you’re wearing…almost nothing,” the Ten of Clubs says. The buxom blonde is clad in a tight silver corset that makes her assets even more delectable than they already are and she’s wearing matching underwear, leaving most of her skin exposed to the air. In a gentlemanly manner, he removes his black cape of his old uniform and drops it over her shoulders. “Better?”
“Much, you’ve always been so good to me, my friend,” she smiles, blue eyes sparkling and she presses her body into his. He knows that he should pus her away, but instead her wraps his arms around and rubs her now covered arms.
“Why are you not celebrating with Jack? I mean with our King,” he asks softly, trying very hard not to enjoy the feeling of her in his arms. He’s always cared about her. He’s always wanted to her.
“He doesn’t want me. He’d rather have his precious Alice.” Her words are cold and etched with pain.
“Well then, that makes him an idiot. I would be honored to celebrate with you.”
He watches her eyes water with tears and her face presses into his chest. “Oh Andrew,” she mumbles into the black shirt. He finds his fingers moving on their own accord to touch her silken hair. He tries to pretend that her scalp doesn’t smell like vanilla, like warm ice cream. His vice. She seems to snuggle closer and his face starts to feel hot.
“Come,” he tells her kindly and guides her over to his open window. The cool air laps at their faces and the stars sparkle bright against the black velvet sky. They are silent for awhile, perfectly content in soaking up the peacefulness of the sky. Duchess breaks the silence first.
“He doesn’t love me, Andrew.”
“Again, I insist that he is an idiot.”
“No, he’s not. I’m just not good enough for him.” With that said she pulls away from his arms, letting the cape slip off.
“Why on earth would you think that?” he asks, bending to pick up the cape. She pouts and it reminds him just how much he loves that pout. She gives him a simple shrug and settles her scantily clad body on his bed.
“Maybe you two just weren’t meant to be. You’re just not his match. Perhaps you’re meant for somebody else,” Andrew says simply, avoiding her gaze.
“Like you perhaps?” she asks, peering up at him from beneath her wet lashes. He swallows hard before responding.
“I would treat you very well,” Andrew promises.
Her hand extends towards him and he takes it, wrapping their fingers together. His dark eyes lock onto her light ones and she can see the sincerity shining in them. She can either spend the rest of her life chasing a man who doesn’t love her or chasing a man would go to the ends of the world for her.
“I could use someone to treat me well,” Duchess says softly.
Before he knows what he’s doing, he manages to gather her into his arms, into his lap. Fingers explore her plush lips, creamy skin and soft hair. Her tears are salty on his tongue and mix with the sweetness of her peachy lips. Her arms wrap around his neck.
“This isn’t a dream is it?” he asks after a few moments of getting lost in her eyes.
“If it is then I don’t want to wake up. Actually, can we pretend I didn’t see that?” she asks sheepishly, embarrassed by her cheesy line.
“No, I plan on teasing you about that line for years to come,” Andrew grins.
And with that, she kisses him.
Author: mistress_britt
Fandom: SyFy Alice
Characters: Ten of Clubs/Duchess
Word Count: 808
Rating: PG-13
Summary: He tries to pretend that her scalp doesn’t smell like vanilla, like warm ice cream. His vice.
Disclaimer: Characters aren’t mine.
Author's Notes: Reviews are nice. Semi spoilers if you haven’t seen part 2. I made up Ten of Clubs’s “real” name because honestly I don’t think she’s going to call him Ten. Also you may suffer a possible fluff overdose from this.
She’s clearly intoxicated when she stumbles into his chambers. She lets out a light giggle; cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink and her red lips shiny. Too much of her creamy skin is exposed, although that’s never been particularly unusual for her. The Ten of Clubs swallows; part of him wishing this was a dream and part of him wishing that this was real. He’s fantasized plenty of nights about her wandering into his bedroom and professing her love for him. Jack has never deserved her.
“Duchess?” he asks not because he doesn’t recognize her, he just wants to make sure she’s coherent.
“My dear, dear friend, aren’t you so happy that we won?” Duchess grins as she slowly walks over to him. He’s grateful that she doesn’t fall onto her face, but her bare legs are visibly trembling with each step.
He offers her a kind smile when he catches her by her arms. “Very, my dear friend." They had been friends since childhood, a relationship that has only grown closer since they were given places in the castle.
She laughs happily and then her face falls. “Oh, I’m suddenly so cold,” she whispers.
“I’m not surprised, you’re wearing…almost nothing,” the Ten of Clubs says. The buxom blonde is clad in a tight silver corset that makes her assets even more delectable than they already are and she’s wearing matching underwear, leaving most of her skin exposed to the air. In a gentlemanly manner, he removes his black cape of his old uniform and drops it over her shoulders. “Better?”
“Much, you’ve always been so good to me, my friend,” she smiles, blue eyes sparkling and she presses her body into his. He knows that he should pus her away, but instead her wraps his arms around and rubs her now covered arms.
“Why are you not celebrating with Jack? I mean with our King,” he asks softly, trying very hard not to enjoy the feeling of her in his arms. He’s always cared about her. He’s always wanted to her.
“He doesn’t want me. He’d rather have his precious Alice.” Her words are cold and etched with pain.
“Well then, that makes him an idiot. I would be honored to celebrate with you.”
He watches her eyes water with tears and her face presses into his chest. “Oh Andrew,” she mumbles into the black shirt. He finds his fingers moving on their own accord to touch her silken hair. He tries to pretend that her scalp doesn’t smell like vanilla, like warm ice cream. His vice. She seems to snuggle closer and his face starts to feel hot.
“Come,” he tells her kindly and guides her over to his open window. The cool air laps at their faces and the stars sparkle bright against the black velvet sky. They are silent for awhile, perfectly content in soaking up the peacefulness of the sky. Duchess breaks the silence first.
“He doesn’t love me, Andrew.”
“Again, I insist that he is an idiot.”
“No, he’s not. I’m just not good enough for him.” With that said she pulls away from his arms, letting the cape slip off.
“Why on earth would you think that?” he asks, bending to pick up the cape. She pouts and it reminds him just how much he loves that pout. She gives him a simple shrug and settles her scantily clad body on his bed.
“Maybe you two just weren’t meant to be. You’re just not his match. Perhaps you’re meant for somebody else,” Andrew says simply, avoiding her gaze.
“Like you perhaps?” she asks, peering up at him from beneath her wet lashes. He swallows hard before responding.
“I would treat you very well,” Andrew promises.
Her hand extends towards him and he takes it, wrapping their fingers together. His dark eyes lock onto her light ones and she can see the sincerity shining in them. She can either spend the rest of her life chasing a man who doesn’t love her or chasing a man would go to the ends of the world for her.
“I could use someone to treat me well,” Duchess says softly.
Before he knows what he’s doing, he manages to gather her into his arms, into his lap. Fingers explore her plush lips, creamy skin and soft hair. Her tears are salty on his tongue and mix with the sweetness of her peachy lips. Her arms wrap around his neck.
“This isn’t a dream is it?” he asks after a few moments of getting lost in her eyes.
“If it is then I don’t want to wake up. Actually, can we pretend I didn’t see that?” she asks sheepishly, embarrassed by her cheesy line.
“No, I plan on teasing you about that line for years to come,” Andrew grins.
And with that, she kisses him.