I was in my room, all right. Curled up on a shelf, on top of a little pile of moss and such I'd used to make a sleeping pallet. Because I was still a freaking pixie. I was going to figure out how to reverse this. Really. But it was damn hard to do any sort of research when you couldn't lift the books needed. At the moment, I was taking the normal pixie nap, dreaming in spastic technicolor. I was not expecting Ivy to come barging in, sending me up in a whirling, high-pitched whine of scattered pixie dust and red wings. She'd been gone for... Well, some time. And, despite being suddenly four inches tall, I'd spent an inordinate amount of time worrying about that.
And, through my super pixie smelling, I could see that my worry was justified. The second Ivy walked in, I got the wiff of vampire, the unique smell of Tamwood, and...
"Turn it, you're practicing again," I squeaked, backing up so quickly that I lost my balance and dropped a few inches, banging painfully into the bookcase.
Screwing up her nose as she shifted the plant slightly - there was a leaf that seemed to be making a concentrated attack on her nose - Ivy attempted to peer through the leaves. Rachel's voice had sounded awfully high, but maybe she had just been startled, and... Ivy frowned, taking in a deep breath.
The house-plant thumped onto the floor, spilling soil onto the carpet. Yes, she was practicing again, and to Rachel that was probably a big thing - but the bigger issue on Ivy's mind was that Rachel was a pixie. She smelled different (which was almost a relief, even if Ivy had fed before arriving), she smelled like a... pixie, and
( ... )
"I ate a chocolate," I said, like it was the most sensible thing in the world. Zooming over, I fluttered around Ivy for a second, eyes concerned. "You okay?" For some reason, being a pixie seemed to have erased most of the fear I should be feeling at the thought of a practicing Ivy. I wasn't thrilled, by any stretch, but I wasn't freaking out either.
But then I got distracted by the plant. "Holy crap!" I grinned, flitting around it. "Thanks, Ivy! This is awesome!" Mmmm...it smelled so good. "Man, it's still really healthy, too! How'd you manage that?" Taking a few more turns around the plant, I flew back up to hover in front of Ivy's face. "We can commender a corner of the yard for a garden! It'll be great. Dean doesn't know shit about plants..."
My wings drooped suddenly as I remembered the deal I'd made with the demon - I couldn't approach Dean at all in order to keep the demon from doing the same. Shit. Oh, crap, and I didn't want Ivy to know any of that. Perking myself up (I found it insanely hard to lie or keep
( ... )
"Remind me to stay away from chocolates, then," Ivy replied dryly, although she really had no idea why a chocolate would turn Rachel into a pixie. At first she'd thought that Rachel had done it deliberately for a mission, and it was a relief to hear that it wasn't. The thought of Rachel doing runs by herself was not a pleasant thought, knowing how her runs usually turned out
( ... )
Rachel's protests were lost under the other sensations that Ivy was picking up from her - the soft sounds, the reactions. Oh, logically Ivy knew that it was only the scar that was making Rachel react that way, the biological imperative of an unclaimed bite that would react to any vampire. But logic was far from Ivy's thoughts right now. Human logic, at least.
And Rachel wasn't making a move to get away. Ivy removed her hand and leaned down slightly, feeling the tickle of Rachel's hair against her nose as she hovered mere inches away from Rachel's neck. She inhaled deeply, releasing it with a soft sigh. She smelt so good, and it didn't matter that she'd slaked her thirst recently. This was...
...Not what Rachel wanted. Swallowing hard, Ivy gritted her teeth and did her best to shove her instincts down. God, Rachel had been practically begging her to stop, and she hadn't listened. "Rachel, get off," she said roughly, without moving from her close distance to Rachel's neck. She couldn't move, not until Rachel did.
Practically sobbing in relief, I pushed away, moving quickly to stand several feet away, arms wrapped tightly around myself. Watching Ivy warily, I pressed one hand against my scar, trying to fight the tide of sensations still washing over me.
There was a part of me, a part I attributed only to the scar, that so desperately wanted what had been a breath away from me. I wanted it so badly it made me ache. And that want terrified me. It also pissed me right the hell off. I didn't like being made to feel something that wasn't real. That wasn't what I actually wanted. And it was my fault for triggering every stinking instinct Ivy had. And it was the demon's fault for giving me the thing in the first place. In all of this, though, the one person whose fault it was not was Ivy.
Concerned, worried, I kept my eyes locked on Ivy. "Ivy?" My voice was more confident, now. I was remembering how to do this. Oh, God, how could I have let myself forget?
It almost hurt when Rachel distanced herself. Not any kind of real physical pain, but the sudden change between vampire instincts and human reactions was too sudden. An equal mixture of relief and disappointed warred in Ivy as she ducked her head shamefully, dragging her hands through her hair in an attempt to re-focus herself.
"Sorry," she said lowly, waiting for the instincts to die down and for her pupils to retract. It was easier, now that she was practicing again. Only slightly, but a hell of a lot better than when she hadn't had blood for years. It had only been hours.
Letting her hands fall from her hair, Ivy pushed herself off the truck, but made sure to keep the same distance between them. "God, I'm sorry," she repeated. "It'll get easier." The last was said more to herself than to Rachel. After a long moment, once she was more in control, Ivy raised her eyes to Rachel's, concerned. She knew she hadn't done anything, she hadn't drawn blood, but still.
Blinking, I actually looked shocked. "No, Ivy..." Damn it. She'd been back, what, an hour? And already I was making her feel guilty for my own selfish miscalculations. The truth was, I simply had not thought about her. I knew better, but I hadn't stopped to think. And now she was apologizing
( ... )
Comments 37
And, through my super pixie smelling, I could see that my worry was justified. The second Ivy walked in, I got the wiff of vampire, the unique smell of Tamwood, and...
"Turn it, you're practicing again," I squeaked, backing up so quickly that I lost my balance and dropped a few inches, banging painfully into the bookcase.
Right. Because that is what I should be ( ... )
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The house-plant thumped onto the floor, spilling soil onto the carpet. Yes, she was practicing again, and to Rachel that was probably a big thing - but the bigger issue on Ivy's mind was that Rachel was a pixie. She smelled different (which was almost a relief, even if Ivy had fed before arriving), she smelled like a... pixie, and ( ... )
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But then I got distracted by the plant. "Holy crap!" I grinned, flitting around it. "Thanks, Ivy! This is awesome!" Mmmm...it smelled so good. "Man, it's still really healthy, too! How'd you manage that?" Taking a few more turns around the plant, I flew back up to hover in front of Ivy's face. "We can commender a corner of the yard for a garden! It'll be great. Dean doesn't know shit about plants..."
My wings drooped suddenly as I remembered the deal I'd made with the demon - I couldn't approach Dean at all in order to keep the demon from doing the same. Shit. Oh, crap, and I didn't want Ivy to know any of that. Perking myself up (I found it insanely hard to lie or keep ( ... )
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And Rachel wasn't making a move to get away. Ivy removed her hand and leaned down slightly, feeling the tickle of Rachel's hair against her nose as she hovered mere inches away from Rachel's neck. She inhaled deeply, releasing it with a soft sigh. She smelt so good, and it didn't matter that she'd slaked her thirst recently. This was...
...Not what Rachel wanted. Swallowing hard, Ivy gritted her teeth and did her best to shove her instincts down. God, Rachel had been practically begging her to stop, and she hadn't listened. "Rachel, get off," she said roughly, without moving from her close distance to Rachel's neck. She couldn't move, not until Rachel did.
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There was a part of me, a part I attributed only to the scar, that so desperately wanted what had been a breath away from me. I wanted it so badly it made me ache. And that want terrified me. It also pissed me right the hell off. I didn't like being made to feel something that wasn't real. That wasn't what I actually wanted. And it was my fault for triggering every stinking instinct Ivy had. And it was the demon's fault for giving me the thing in the first place. In all of this, though, the one person whose fault it was not was Ivy.
Concerned, worried, I kept my eyes locked on Ivy. "Ivy?" My voice was more confident, now. I was remembering how to do this. Oh, God, how could I have let myself forget?
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"Sorry," she said lowly, waiting for the instincts to die down and for her pupils to retract. It was easier, now that she was practicing again. Only slightly, but a hell of a lot better than when she hadn't had blood for years. It had only been hours.
Letting her hands fall from her hair, Ivy pushed herself off the truck, but made sure to keep the same distance between them. "God, I'm sorry," she repeated. "It'll get easier." The last was said more to herself than to Rachel. After a long moment, once she was more in control, Ivy raised her eyes to Rachel's, concerned. She knew she hadn't done anything, she hadn't drawn blood, but still.
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