She's standing at the window, looking out over the Scottish landscape, watching the night sky. The moon is new, and without the competing light, the stars are spectacular. River kneels up on the window seat and touches the controls that bring the opacity down to zero. Starlight isn't as bright as moonlight, but it's still enough that she can
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Eventually, the shadows break apart again and continue their way to the bar. Shortly after they've disappeared inside, the door to the flat opens.
River! Damocles reaches her first, saying hello rather enthusiastically.
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She fills her glass again and offers to fill his.
"Serious ramifications, hmm?"
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"That entirely depends on what your planning."
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She holds her glass up for a toast.
"If you're willing, I think I'm ready to makes some waves."
Even though the tone of her voice is steady, her scent ripples with a certain wildness.
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He reaches for his glass, fingering the stem.
"Tonight?"
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"Unless you have some compelling reason to wait..."
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Is he really going to do this? He certainly believes what you lose is well worth what you gain, but will she? He knows she thinks she does and that she's done the research, but how can either of them be so sure this is what she wants?
He frowns a little more. She's done the research, more than he could have ever imagined possible. She knows as well as anyone can without being bitten what she's getting into. He can smell on her her much she wants this.
And the truth is, if it all works out? He wants this too.
He lifts his glass. "No. No reason."
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My love, my mate. Make me yours.
She extends her glass to meet his.
"To us." The ring of crystal against crystal is as loud as a bronze bell in her ears.
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"To us," he echoes, bringing his wine back to take a sip.
Please let this be the best choice.
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Her foot shifts alongside his, joined by its mate to capture him for a brief moment before she's pulling away, rising from the table and taking his hand.
"Dance with me?"
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It really has been a long time since he last danced.
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She turns and steps in close, guiding his hands to her hips. Dancing, in this case, is simply standing close, swaying in time to the music. It's easy enough to follow the rhythm of her body.
The backs of her knuckles caress along his jawline, and then her hands are stroking the nape of his neck, marking his hairline, urging him down to her. This close, he fills her senses, and she inhales his scent, her eyes closing as she rests her temple against his cheek.
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This can all go so very right.
He breathes in the very human smell of her, wanting to remember it.
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She wishes she could tell him it will all be all right, but she knows that's not entirely true. Things will go wrong, but they will be inconsequential in the long run. She knows, without knowing how and without needing to know how, that together, they are strong enough to weather any storm.
She sways to the music, nuzzling along his jaw to his chin, rubbing her lips over the scruff there.
She knows about irrational fears. All she can do is be there for him on the other side, and trust that he will be there for her.
Right now, all she wants to do is lose herself in how good he feels in her arms.
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"I love you." And as much as he nurses the secret fear he might lose her over this, he does want to try. Because she asked him to.
He swallows. "Where?"
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The truth of that is reinforced by her scent washing over him.
"You always stop yourself, when we're making love. I thought you might -- that we might..." Her voice trails off as her hands tighten on him.
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