Looking For Opinions
I'm working on a new discworld fic that is Susan/Teatime in nature at the moment and I thought I'd post what I have of it here for feedback. Let's see if anyone notices. *g*
Spoilers here not only for Hogfather but also for Soul Music and Thief of Time.
BTW, this is totally without a title and recommendations would be appreciated.
Susan sat at her dressing table, eyes closed as warm lips traced their way down her neck. She'd closed her eyes when she heard the tread on the carpet behind her. No need to ask who it was. Few people could have got in here without her knowing and by now she knew the sound of his footsteps.
Damn, and the week had been going so well. Everything had been settling down again into a pattern she could control and direct. She should have known it wouldn't last. A hint of tongue against the place where shoulder and neck met caused a shiver to run through her, no matter how hard she tried to suppress it as hands came up to lightly grip her upper arms.
It was at times like this that she found herself missing Imp and Lobsang. Missed them both with a longing that surprised her and raised a guilty flush to her cheeks. It wasn't the missing, but the reason of that missing that made her uncomfortable. Because it wasn't for their own sakes that her mind flew to them just now and they both deserved better from her than that.
Imp had been a gentleman in every way, nervous even to hold her hand when they'd walked together. He'd played his harp for her, sitting by the floral clock in Genua. He had even written a song just for her. She could no longer remember the tune, only the warm feeling made up of pleasure and a slight hint embarrassment that had filler her when he played it. It hadn't been all that good, she'd know that at the time. But so many silly things tug at the heart when you're sixteen and for the first time in your life a pretty boy smiles at you in that way.
She hadn't know what to expect when he'd first kissed her. Her sensible mind telling her that it wasn't going to be what all the books and poems claimed, and she'd been right. Still, there had been a sweetness to it that had made her heart flutter all the same. No, it hadn't moved the Disc or stolen her breath. She'd been the one to steal another, though, her shyness fading in light of the surprise that though it hadn't been all the writers had claimed it would be, it was still exactly what it should have been. Imp had smiled at her still shy and fascinated and just as pleased. He had taken the third.
Summer flowers and first loves never last. She didn't regret a minute of it though.
Nor had she regretted her time with Lobsang, different as it was. It was never more than stolen moments and never could be. They both knew that from the start. It hadn't stopped them though. The impossibility of it all was part of the attraction, as much as his lovely eyes. Stolen chocolate flavoured kisses, hiding in a closet for the God's sakes. Trying not to laugh too loud for fear that the class of children bent over their papers in the other room would hear. She'd been older and Lobsang was certainly no shy innocent. The ridiculousness of it could still make her smile. Including the knowledge that no one would ever have suspected such a thing of staid, proper Miss Susan.
What was more, he had understood what no one else ever could. He knew what it was like, being human and yet not, to be caught between the mortal and immortal worlds. But whereas Susan had always turned to the mortal world, fighting to maintain that in her that was human and to reject what was not. Lobsang turned to the immortal one. Perhaps that was part of the fascination as well, they could each see in the other the reflections of the path that they themselves had not taken.
They both nestled somewhere in her heart and she supposed they always would. Just the same, she had known when she and Lobsang had said goodbye for the last time that that would be an end to it.
Susan had been educated in a school that taught girls to be sensible. As proper young ladies they had two choices in life. They could marry and be sensible runners of households for their husbands or they could choose a life that was their own. Granted, there weren't many options available to a respectable lady who didn't want to marry, but they did exist.
Even in choosing the second of these paths, Susan had had to know just what it was that she was turning her back on. She was nothing if not practical and she certainly knew better than to spurn the dish untasted, as it were. And that dish was sweet. Imp's shy smiles and Lobsang's anything but innocent kisses told her everything she needed to know. Yes, it truly was lovely. There was a thrill to it and she certainly liked the feeling of being held in a man's arms. On the other hand they had also showed her that her choice was a sound one.
Sweet and nice and thrilling... and though she smiled at the memories, she'd tucked them away in her heart, firm in the knowledge that lovely though it was it was not the road for her. She could turn her back on it, content that she knew what she was leaving behind.
If only she truly had.
Her hands clenched around the brush in her lap as a breath escaped from between her lips. Oh, she missed them - for all the wrong reasons. As sweet as their kisses were, as nice as it felt to be held by them, she'd always remained separated from it. Their kisses hadn't burned and they hadn't left her unsteady and more than a little frightened by her own reaction to them.
She'd still been Susan when their lips parted - her mind still clear and her body still her own.
"What are you doing here, Jonathan?" Her voice sounded more breathless than she would have liked. As the lips disappeared from her neck she opened her eyes and forced herself to meet the mismatched gaze in the mirror.
Jonathan smiled at her. His boyishly good-looking face glowed in the light of the candles on her dressing table, a light that made his blonde curls look almost golden. The angelic effect, as always, was marred by the glass eye that seemed almost unnaturally dark against his fair skin. It wasn't until you looked into his remaining eye, though, with it's tiny pupal and mad glint that the illusion was completely shattered.
"I missed you," he said simply in his oddly high voice.
"Did you," she responded flatly, carefully placing her brush back on the table. "Well, I've had a rather long day and..."
"...and you would really rather that I didn't bother you," he finished in a sing-song voice. She glanced at him in the mirror and her gazed back at her with that slightly puzzled expression he always wore when trying to figure her out. "Really, Susan I've never understood why you keeping saying that kind of thing when it isn't at all how you actually feel."
For a moment she considered trying to hit him with the brush, or possibly something heavier. There was no point to it though. He'd catch her hand before she could manage it and likely find it amusing, which always made her even more angry. She was fast, but Jonathan was faster. She was strong, but he was stronger. The only thing she did have was that she understood him better than he understood her. The shattered pieces of his skewed mind had a very hard time making sense of the workings of a more orderly one. Which made it worse when at times, like now, he had her bang to rights on something she'd rather he didn't know.
That was part of the whole problem though. From the first moment she'd met Jonathan Teatime he'd known the important things, the things she most wanted to hide even if he didn’t understand the rest.
The first time their eyes had met her pulse had raced, shocking her to her core. And that he had known, damn him. They hadn’t been able to take their eyes off of one another, caught in a battle of wills both with each other and over the unexpected electricity which sparked between them. Susan had been horrified by her reaction to him and annoyed by how intrigued, even amused, he had seemed to be.
It had been almost obscene that she should first feel that kind of heat in a place built of children’s beliefs. The pure white of the Tooth Fairy’s castle and the knowledge of poor Banjo’s confused and utterly innocent witnessing of their battle of wills had only served to make her blood pound harder. Luckily, it was also then when she’d first discovered just why sex and violence are so inextricably linked in the human mind and she could channel her desire to touch him into a desire to hit. She’d never tried to actually kill anyone before - Auditors not counting, in her mind. She’d been death, but that wasn’t the same thing as killing. But she had honestly tried to kill Jonathan that strange Hogwatch Night. For a while she’d even believed that she’d succeeded.
She’d felt dirty when it was over and distinctly uncomfortable with the rage that had driven her actions rather than the cool calm she was familiar with. Susan was always calm, always in control. But just the memory of the clutch of Jonathan’s fingers in her hair and the feel of his warm breath against her cheek frightened her with the intensity of it. He could reach into her and strip away that calm, even when he wasn’t there. And when he was there, like now...
“Really, Jonathan,” she said stiffly. “I’m not interested in whatever games your interested in playing just at the moment. And I’ve told you more than once that I dislike it when you break into my house in the middle of the night.”
He cocked his head to the side and smiled at her, a small smile of amusement that annoyed her no end.
“I don’t play games with you, Susan,” he said lightly, coming forward, deliberately crowding her back against the vanity behind her.
“Oh don’t you,” she snorted.
He giggled, that awful giggle that reminded her just how far Jonathan’s perception of reality was from hers.
“I’ve always been perfectly honest,” he claimed.
Susan opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted when he moved. She’d never known anyone who could move as fast as Jonathan. One moment he was close, the next he was pressing up against her, his hands sliding around her hips to hold her while his mouth covered hers.
to be continued
Spoilers here not only for Hogfather but also for Soul Music and Thief of Time.
BTW, this is totally without a title and recommendations would be appreciated.
Susan sat at her dressing table, eyes closed as warm lips traced their way down her neck. She'd closed her eyes when she heard the tread on the carpet behind her. No need to ask who it was. Few people could have got in here without her knowing and by now she knew the sound of his footsteps.
Damn, and the week had been going so well. Everything had been settling down again into a pattern she could control and direct. She should have known it wouldn't last. A hint of tongue against the place where shoulder and neck met caused a shiver to run through her, no matter how hard she tried to suppress it as hands came up to lightly grip her upper arms.
It was at times like this that she found herself missing Imp and Lobsang. Missed them both with a longing that surprised her and raised a guilty flush to her cheeks. It wasn't the missing, but the reason of that missing that made her uncomfortable. Because it wasn't for their own sakes that her mind flew to them just now and they both deserved better from her than that.
Imp had been a gentleman in every way, nervous even to hold her hand when they'd walked together. He'd played his harp for her, sitting by the floral clock in Genua. He had even written a song just for her. She could no longer remember the tune, only the warm feeling made up of pleasure and a slight hint embarrassment that had filler her when he played it. It hadn't been all that good, she'd know that at the time. But so many silly things tug at the heart when you're sixteen and for the first time in your life a pretty boy smiles at you in that way.
She hadn't know what to expect when he'd first kissed her. Her sensible mind telling her that it wasn't going to be what all the books and poems claimed, and she'd been right. Still, there had been a sweetness to it that had made her heart flutter all the same. No, it hadn't moved the Disc or stolen her breath. She'd been the one to steal another, though, her shyness fading in light of the surprise that though it hadn't been all the writers had claimed it would be, it was still exactly what it should have been. Imp had smiled at her still shy and fascinated and just as pleased. He had taken the third.
Summer flowers and first loves never last. She didn't regret a minute of it though.
Nor had she regretted her time with Lobsang, different as it was. It was never more than stolen moments and never could be. They both knew that from the start. It hadn't stopped them though. The impossibility of it all was part of the attraction, as much as his lovely eyes. Stolen chocolate flavoured kisses, hiding in a closet for the God's sakes. Trying not to laugh too loud for fear that the class of children bent over their papers in the other room would hear. She'd been older and Lobsang was certainly no shy innocent. The ridiculousness of it could still make her smile. Including the knowledge that no one would ever have suspected such a thing of staid, proper Miss Susan.
What was more, he had understood what no one else ever could. He knew what it was like, being human and yet not, to be caught between the mortal and immortal worlds. But whereas Susan had always turned to the mortal world, fighting to maintain that in her that was human and to reject what was not. Lobsang turned to the immortal one. Perhaps that was part of the fascination as well, they could each see in the other the reflections of the path that they themselves had not taken.
They both nestled somewhere in her heart and she supposed they always would. Just the same, she had known when she and Lobsang had said goodbye for the last time that that would be an end to it.
Susan had been educated in a school that taught girls to be sensible. As proper young ladies they had two choices in life. They could marry and be sensible runners of households for their husbands or they could choose a life that was their own. Granted, there weren't many options available to a respectable lady who didn't want to marry, but they did exist.
Even in choosing the second of these paths, Susan had had to know just what it was that she was turning her back on. She was nothing if not practical and she certainly knew better than to spurn the dish untasted, as it were. And that dish was sweet. Imp's shy smiles and Lobsang's anything but innocent kisses told her everything she needed to know. Yes, it truly was lovely. There was a thrill to it and she certainly liked the feeling of being held in a man's arms. On the other hand they had also showed her that her choice was a sound one.
Sweet and nice and thrilling... and though she smiled at the memories, she'd tucked them away in her heart, firm in the knowledge that lovely though it was it was not the road for her. She could turn her back on it, content that she knew what she was leaving behind.
If only she truly had.
Her hands clenched around the brush in her lap as a breath escaped from between her lips. Oh, she missed them - for all the wrong reasons. As sweet as their kisses were, as nice as it felt to be held by them, she'd always remained separated from it. Their kisses hadn't burned and they hadn't left her unsteady and more than a little frightened by her own reaction to them.
She'd still been Susan when their lips parted - her mind still clear and her body still her own.
"What are you doing here, Jonathan?" Her voice sounded more breathless than she would have liked. As the lips disappeared from her neck she opened her eyes and forced herself to meet the mismatched gaze in the mirror.
Jonathan smiled at her. His boyishly good-looking face glowed in the light of the candles on her dressing table, a light that made his blonde curls look almost golden. The angelic effect, as always, was marred by the glass eye that seemed almost unnaturally dark against his fair skin. It wasn't until you looked into his remaining eye, though, with it's tiny pupal and mad glint that the illusion was completely shattered.
"I missed you," he said simply in his oddly high voice.
"Did you," she responded flatly, carefully placing her brush back on the table. "Well, I've had a rather long day and..."
"...and you would really rather that I didn't bother you," he finished in a sing-song voice. She glanced at him in the mirror and her gazed back at her with that slightly puzzled expression he always wore when trying to figure her out. "Really, Susan I've never understood why you keeping saying that kind of thing when it isn't at all how you actually feel."
For a moment she considered trying to hit him with the brush, or possibly something heavier. There was no point to it though. He'd catch her hand before she could manage it and likely find it amusing, which always made her even more angry. She was fast, but Jonathan was faster. She was strong, but he was stronger. The only thing she did have was that she understood him better than he understood her. The shattered pieces of his skewed mind had a very hard time making sense of the workings of a more orderly one. Which made it worse when at times, like now, he had her bang to rights on something she'd rather he didn't know.
That was part of the whole problem though. From the first moment she'd met Jonathan Teatime he'd known the important things, the things she most wanted to hide even if he didn’t understand the rest.
The first time their eyes had met her pulse had raced, shocking her to her core. And that he had known, damn him. They hadn’t been able to take their eyes off of one another, caught in a battle of wills both with each other and over the unexpected electricity which sparked between them. Susan had been horrified by her reaction to him and annoyed by how intrigued, even amused, he had seemed to be.
It had been almost obscene that she should first feel that kind of heat in a place built of children’s beliefs. The pure white of the Tooth Fairy’s castle and the knowledge of poor Banjo’s confused and utterly innocent witnessing of their battle of wills had only served to make her blood pound harder. Luckily, it was also then when she’d first discovered just why sex and violence are so inextricably linked in the human mind and she could channel her desire to touch him into a desire to hit. She’d never tried to actually kill anyone before - Auditors not counting, in her mind. She’d been death, but that wasn’t the same thing as killing. But she had honestly tried to kill Jonathan that strange Hogwatch Night. For a while she’d even believed that she’d succeeded.
She’d felt dirty when it was over and distinctly uncomfortable with the rage that had driven her actions rather than the cool calm she was familiar with. Susan was always calm, always in control. But just the memory of the clutch of Jonathan’s fingers in her hair and the feel of his warm breath against her cheek frightened her with the intensity of it. He could reach into her and strip away that calm, even when he wasn’t there. And when he was there, like now...
“Really, Jonathan,” she said stiffly. “I’m not interested in whatever games your interested in playing just at the moment. And I’ve told you more than once that I dislike it when you break into my house in the middle of the night.”
He cocked his head to the side and smiled at her, a small smile of amusement that annoyed her no end.
“I don’t play games with you, Susan,” he said lightly, coming forward, deliberately crowding her back against the vanity behind her.
“Oh don’t you,” she snorted.
He giggled, that awful giggle that reminded her just how far Jonathan’s perception of reality was from hers.
“I’ve always been perfectly honest,” he claimed.
Susan opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted when he moved. She’d never known anyone who could move as fast as Jonathan. One moment he was close, the next he was pressing up against her, his hands sliding around her hips to hold her while his mouth covered hers.
to be continued