The Mansion

His voice found it's way into her mind as she swiveled around to see M standing in the doorway. She offered him a smile.

"Watching?" She shook her head, "Nothing, M. Just contemplating a cup of hot tea and a bath is all."

Her eyes looked over him. She knew his skin would be red.

"You okay?"

DarkWarrioress said:

She listened intently and was still feeling trepidation about doing this. Still, she took the brush and started at his left wing and followed his instructions. She was amazed at how soft his wings were. It was indescribable. She couldn't help but run her hand over the same path the brush took. She needed a distraction or she'd end up petting him instead of grooming his wings.

"So, how did your wings become such a mess, Richard?"

Click to expand...

He let out a small soft groan a little lounder than he wanted to as she touched his wings with her hands...nobody had done that before. She was truly feeling every inch of the feathers. Exploring it almost.

"My wings become in such dissaray whenever I take a bath and fully clense myself. Think of someone withcurly hair coming out of the shower and then brushing their hair straight to some degree...it's the closest appoximation."
He let his eyes close as he sat on the floor poised recieving the wonderful treatment she was giving him.
"You're doing a wonderful job by the way. thank you so much." He said softly, his eyes closed. Allowing her to enjoy grooming him.

DarkWarrioress said:

His voice found it's way into her mind as she swiveled around to see M standing in the doorway. She offered him a smile.

"Watching?" She shook her head, "Nothing, M. Just contemplating a cup of hot tea and a bath is all."

Her eyes looked over him. She knew his skin would be red.

"You okay?"

Click to expand...

He took a few steps towards her and smiled back.

"I'm fine, thank You." His fingers subconsciously feeling his chest and abdomen, where the marks are causing discomfort.

"You don't look totally OK though. I'd love to prepare a nice warm bath for you."

Her eyes regarded him quietly, noting everything. She got out of her chair and walked around to the front of her desk, leaned against it, crooking a finger at him. Her eyes were gentle as was the smile on her face.

He slowly moved forward, watching her as she came over to the front, her finger beckoning him. Sinking down to his knees, he smiled up into her deep green eyes once again.

"Yes, Milady?"

She urged him up to his feet, taking the collar of his shirt in her hands and gently tugging him toward her, bringing his face close to hers.

"Go take care of yourself, M. There will be another day for you to see to me, I promise. Now, kiss me good night and go soak that splendid body of yours."

With the assistance of both his hands, he stood up on his feet as she grabbed his collar and pulled him closer. He could smell her again. That distinct perfume as it filled his nostrils. But it was milder this time. The heat emanating from her body could still be felt though. He forgot the pain and said...

"As you wish, Milady." He smiled and kissed her good night, before heading into dreamland.

She smiled, watching him go. For all things there is a time under the sun... and the moon.

Archangel1978 said:

He let out a small soft groan a little lounder than he wanted to as she touched his wings with her hands...nobody had done that before. She was truly feeling every inch of the feathers. Exploring it almost.

"My wings become in such dissaray whenever I take a bath and fully clense myself. Think of someone withcurly hair coming out of the shower and then brushing their hair straight to some degree...it's the closest appoximation."
He let his eyes close as he sat on the floor poised recieving the wonderful treatment she was giving him.
"You're doing a wonderful job by the way. thank you so much." He said softly, his eyes closed. Allowing her to enjoy grooming him.

Click to expand...

"Well, I've never done this sort of thing before, let alone known an archangel," she smiled as she continued brushing, "so this is kind of new to me. I hope you don't mind my touching them. My sense of touch is something hard to control sometimes."

DarkWarrioress said:

"Well, I've never done this sort of thing before, let alone known an archangel," she smiled as she continued brushing, "so this is kind of new to me. I hope you don't mind my touching them. My sense of touch is something hard to control sometimes."

Click to expand...

"No my dear I don't mind you touching me, i mean my wings. Let yourself go if so choose. Enjoy it, as you say it's your first time. hehe" Richard slightly chuckled.

Archangel1978 said:

"No my dear I don't mind you touching me, i mean my wings. Let yourself go if so choose. Enjoy it, as you say it's your first time. hehe" Richard slightly chuckled.

Click to expand...

She paused in her brushing, arching a brow...

"Richard! Behave yourself," her tone was mock stern and she was grinning.

DarkWarrioress said:

She paused in her brushing, arching a brow...

"Richard! Behave yourself," her tone was mock stern and she was grinning.

Click to expand...

"Around you Cait, never." he laughed out loud.
"How are they looking?" He inquired

Archangel1978 said:

"Around you Cait, never." he laughed out loud.
"How are they looking?" He inquired

Click to expand...

She stopped brushing and left her eyes wander over his wings and nodded.

"They look lovely, Richard."

She held the brush over his shoulder for him to take.

DarkWarrioress said:

She stopped brushing and left her eyes wander over his wings and nodded.

"They look lovely, Richard."

She held the brush over his shoulder for him to take.

Click to expand...

He grabbed it gently and slowly letting her hand leave his.
He turned quickly and expanded his wings to display them for her final approval and slipped the brush into his pocket.
"This is what I tried to do last time but I won't faint this time."
He closed his eyes and thought of something sad. And his wings flushed with a deep blue almost close to a cobalt blue and he opened his eyes and somberly said
"There."

Archangel1978 said:

He grabbed it gently and slowly letting her hand leave his.
He turned quickly and expanded his wings to display them for her final approval and slipped the brush into his pocket.
"This is what I tried to do last time but I won't faint this time."
He closed his eyes and thought of something sad. And his wings flushed with a deep blue almost close to a cobalt blue and he opened his eyes and somberly said
"There."

Click to expand...

She stared at his wings in awe.

"They're blue. How did--" she looked at him.

"You thought something, didn't you? And they changed color. Can all angels do that?"

DarkWarrioress said:

She stared at his wings in awe.

"They're blue. How did--" she looked at him.

"You thought something, didn't you? And they changed color. Can all angels do that?"

Click to expand...

Sniff-Sniff. Richard started tearing up. And tears streamed down his face and he fell to his knees. His body slumped forward as if all the energy was being drained out of it.
"I thought of something really really sad and depressing. And so..."Sniff."My wings went blue to tell you I'm sad." Sniff
"God--look at me I'm sorry. I'm making a mess. Last time I thought of you doing erotic things and I got aroused, and I'm so ashamed I thought of you that way. I'm sorry. And you're house threw me out again for..."SNIFF"Thinking that. I couldn't help it. Cait you're beautiful...." his voice trailed off. As his head hung in shame and sadness.

Archangel1978 said:

Sniff-Sniff. Richard started tearing up. And tears streamed down his face and he fell to his knees. His body slumped forward as if all the energy was being drained out of it.
"I thought of something really really sad and depressing. And so..."Sniff."My wings went blue to tell you I'm sad." Sniff
"God--look at me I'm sorry. I'm making a mess. Last time I thought of you doing erotic things and I got aroused, and I'm so ashamed I thought of you that way. I'm sorry. And you're house threw me out again for..."SNIFF"Thinking that. I couldn't help it. Cait you're beautiful...." his voice trailed off. As his head hung in shame and sadness.

Click to expand...

She looked taken aback and didn't know what to say.

"Richard.. I....I..."

She got to her feet and started pacing the Great Room. Her fingers threaded through her hair from crown, back, pushing it out of her face. She stopped by the fireplace and turned to look at him.

"Look," she wasn't sure how to say this, "Richard, I'm not going to throw you out of here. You got tossed out on your ear that first time for barging in on Glad and myself. Hopefully, since then, you've figured out not to do that."

Her mind was spinning. After all, it wasn't like she got told every day that she gave an archangel a hard on. Geez.

"Um, listen. It's getting late and I want to go get some sleep. Why don't you head upstairs and take a room for the night or however long you'd like. If there's no name plate on the door, it's empty. Help yourself. Please feel free to go anywhere in the house except my bedroom and the study if the door is closed, okay? There's nothing to be ashamed of, Richard. Truly."

She was backing toward her bedroom as she spoke. She stopped and looked at him.

"Good-Night."

Turning on her heels, she walked swiftly to her room, opening and closing the door to her room behind her. She leaned back against it a moment.

A crying, ashamed, horny archangel on her hands. Oi vey.

How did these things happen to her?

Exhausted, Richard, with wings folding back gradually moved into the room upstairs that had no name on it and collapsed on the bed. The door closed behing him and he finally found sleep as his wings fell into his normal white colour again while he dreampt.

Coffee and toast sat on her desk as she finished up a post and sent it off. Finally satisfied that it was the best it was going to be, she closed the tab on her browser. Now what? A quick click and she brought up her current scenario entitled, Jungle Heat. it was something inspired in her by LI some time back. She was still tweaking it and contemplating whether to turn it into a thread idea or just leave it as an inspired scenario. Maybe by the time she got the scene down, she'd know what to do with it.

It was a calm, soothing day. Today, anything and everything was possible.

Mental Note: drop in Raven's Keep and see if there was anything she could help with for the BBQ on the 4th. It wasn't too long off now.

Creative Scribble ~ Ongoing story.



Three months. Three damn, mosquito infested, damp months in the jungle. Shay Taggert stepped inside her tent, reaching behind her to pull the Glock 19 from it’s place of concealment and set it, holster and all on the table beside her bunk. Moving across the space toward a larger table that took up nearly one end of the tent and was littered with papers, Shay reached down to unstrap the Baretta from her thigh, setting it on some papers like a paperweight.

She was unbuttoning her fatigue shirt as she reached over to open the small solar powered, compact frig she kept in her tent and pulled out a cold beer. Normally, she didn’t care for beer unless it was Guinness but where the hell was a woman going to get Guinness in the jungle? She twisted the lid off the bottle and took a long drink. Maybe she could talk to Pedro. That guy could scrounge up anything.

Fuck. She glanced at her watch. It was 2220hrs and it was still humid and hot as Hades around here. The dark olive green t-shirt she wore under her fatigue shirt was soaked at the top with sweat. Shay shrugged out of the fatigue shirt, tossing it carelessly to the end of her bunk.

“Shay, got those---” he came striding into her tent with that damn low sexy voice of his just as she lifted the bottle to her lips again.

She was standing in profile to him as he entered, affording him the view of her taut breast, uplifted and pointed upward from the action of her tipping the bottle to her lips. She hastily lowered the bottle, swiping at her lips with the side of her forefinger. They stared at each other a moment. That moment was flagrantly charged with sexual tension. It had been like that for the last two months between them and getting stronger every day. She shifted uncomfortably, sliding her eyes away from his.

“Yeah, they’re right over here, hang on,” she turned, took a couple of steps, presenting him with an enticing view of her ass in the fatigue pants she was wearing as she leaned over the table that served as her desk. He let his eyes wander over the view, slowly.

She set the bottle down on the table, shuffled her sidearm, moved a few papers before she found the ones she wanted. She turned back, holding out the reports he wanted as she came toward him.

“Here you go. Santana and I checked on The Ridge. It’s a pretty damn good bet they’re not moving the drugs tonight.”

She watched him take the report and look it over. While he did, she moved to reach for her bottle of beer, taking a swig. She felt this need to do something with her hands all of a sudden. He glanced up.

“That looks pretty damn good,” he nodded toward the bottle she was holding. She glanced at the bottle then to him.

“Would you like one? I’ve got plenty. Sure does taste good on a humid night like tonight.”

She didn’t wait for him to reply, opening the frig, withdrawing two beers. She set her open one and a new one on top of the frig while she twisted off the cap of the third, moving to hand it to him.

“Here you go.” She held it out to him, startled to find his eyes on her.

The air got thick again. She swallowed and retreated the moment he relieved her fingers of the proffered chilled bottle. He shifted the papers into one hand, taking the beer. His eyes never left hers as he tipped it to his lips, drinking deeply. Her own eyes were glued to his hand, the bottle and then his lips. Her lips parted slightly, the tip of her tongue running along the edge of her upper teeth. His eyes darkened and a small low guttural growl emitted from his throat. The sound brought her eyes sharply back to his. She backed up a step as he slowly lowered the bottle and took an involuntary step toward her, then stopped. His eyes took their time meandering over her body. Her breath caught in her throat. When his eyes meet hers again, there was no mistaking the look in his eyes and what he wanted to do, right this moment.

“I better go,” His voice said he wanted to do everything, anything, but go. It snapped her out of her lethargy and she nodded.

‘Of course. I’ll be working on those other reports. I’ll get them to you as soon as I can,” she reached for her open bottle of beer.

Suddenly, her mouth felt dry. What she didn’t say was that it was deliberately going to be a few days before she got those reports to him. He turned sharply and left. As soon as he cleared the entrance, her shoulders visibly sagged with relief.






“What the fuck happened?” He was growling, his tone was vicious.

All four of them were crowded into Shay’s tent as Travers carried her in and laid her on the bunk.

“No, not the bed, Ben. I’ll bleed all over it.”

“Fuck the bed, Shay. Damn it. You’re bleeding here. Hello. We need to get it stopped.”

“Cut her out of the fucking shirt, Travers.”

“Give me just a second, Boss. Shit. Be real still, Shay. I don‘t want to cut you.”

Ben Travers got out his Ka-Bar and slid the tip into the opening left by the bullet that had struck her ribcage. If it had gone just an inch to her right, it would have torn through her heart. The Ka-bar slid across the material like butter. He pulled it off as soon as it got the buttons. He hurriedly unbuttoned her shirt flipping back the upper cut part to expose the blood-soaked t-shirt underneath. Again his knife worked across fabric and then went the hem of the t-shirt, slicing upward.

“Boss?” Ben looked at him, the tip of sharp steel poised over her bra.

“Cut it.”

The blade dipped and cut between her breasts. The material separated. Travers was urged out of the way, as Damien Cane took over. He probed her wound. Shay turned even paler and a moan of pain left her lips this time. She closed her eyes and squeezed the hell out of Santana’s hand.

“Went clean through. She was fucking lucky.”

Well. Duh. Tell her something she didn’t already know.

That was her last thought because whatever Damien Cane had poured into and over her wound, made her pass out.






A soft low groan. The rustle of paper. The small creak of a chair.

The groan came from her own throat. A hand moved toward the covered wound but another, much stronger, masculine, stopped it. Fingers wrapped around her wrist firmly, staying all motion of her hand.

“Don’t touch that, Taggert.”

His voice was gruff with emotion. Damien Cane. The Boss.

Of course it was. One of his team had been shot. She couldn’t blame him. There was a soft rustle of paper again. He guided her hand away from the wound. Her eye cracked open. Her lips parted to say something but no sound came out. She ran her tongue over her lips and tried again.

“How…”

She inhaled, swallowed, continued.

“How long?”

Funny, that didn’t sound like her. The voice was raspy, weak. Her hand was placed high on her chest. He was careful to avoid the wound to her ribs. He sat back in the chair.

“Three days.”

“What?!”

She struggled to push herself up on the pillows. She had barely moved when two palms pressed against her shoulders, pinning her to the bed. She couldn’t have fought him if she wanted to. Pain, bright and sharp, flooded through her being and made her pale and gasp.

“Taggert, don’t make me tie you to the bed because I will.”

She blinked, trying to bring her eyes into focus. Her stomach heaved, the room was spinning and whatever smart ass remark she was about to make, was never known because she passed out. Again.



The next time she surfaced it was to the feel of cool humid air on her abdomen, her shirt tucked close to her breasts and masculine knuckles brushing against the underside of one breast.

“If those knuckles linger any longer, I’m going to break your hand.”

Now, she sounded like herself again.

“Shay! You’re awake.”

It was Travers. She managed a grin.

“Hello, Captain Obvious. How long was I out this time?”

He finished taping her bandage and shrugged before he gently tugged down her shirt.

“Half a day would be my guess. “

“Where’s the Boss?”

Ben rolled his eyes.

“Where the Boss always is.”

“So, did you guys give the report?”

“Hell Shay, we not only gave it, we had to repeat the damn thing, twice.”

“Help me up will ya, Ben?”

She threw back the covers and went to swing her legs over the edge of the bed, pausing when she saw she had on a pair of her sweat pants. She hadn’t gone out on the mission in sweat pants. Her head swung sharply in Ben’s direction.

“Who put me in the sweat pants?”

Ben slipped his arm under hers and slowly, gently helped her to her feet.

“Who do you think? The Boss wasn’t letting any of us do it. Even if I did get to cut your shirt and bra off you.”

Travers grinned boyishly. Not one hint of apology was in his eyes.

“Yeah, well, that’s the only part of your fantasy coming true, Travers.”

Her elbow found his ribs. His only reply was a grunt as he rubbed his ribcage. Shay took a hesitant step or two, wobbled and stopped.

“You gonna need some help, Shay?”

She shook her head and waved him away.

“Naw, I got it. Get out of here. “

She watched Ben head for her door.

“Ben?”

“Yeah?”

He turned with the door slightly open.

“Thanks.”

For a moment he was serious and inclined his head.

“My pleasure. Santana and I are just sorry you got shot. We underestimated those guys.”

“We all underestimated them, Travers. I’m still breathing. We’ll get them next time.”

“Yeah. Yeah we will. Besides, one good thing came of it.”

“What’s that?” She asked softly.

“I got to see your boobs and they’re just as I imagined them to be.”

He didn’t get out of the door fast enough. The pillow hit him on the back of the head.

“Ow. Ow. Ow.”

It was worth it. The effort. And the pain. Butthead.




“We’ve had to stall until Shay healed properly but we should be back on track now. I don't have to tell you that, that last incident set us back, but I am anyway. I sent in Robles to do some fast talking and convince them that their men were just being jumpy and that we’re not too happy with the fact that they shot one of our own. We’re willing to let bygones be bygones but we’ve upped the ante. That shooting is going to cost them. They weren’t too happy that we killed all their men, but we’ve got the money and they want it.”

Shay leaned forward, wincing slightly as she reached for the beer bottle on the table. She had her knees drawn up in the chair, a couple of papers resting on her lap as Damien spoke. Their eyes met as he passed out another paper, holding briefly before his glance moved on to Travers. Her hand shook a little as she replaced the bottle on the table. It had nothing to do with her injury and everything to do with the boss. Damn him. She wasn’t sure how much longer either of them could keep up this cat and mouse game and all this pretending, oh, not with each other, but in front of the others. Whenever they found themselves alone together, which was real brief these days, the air between them was so thick you could cut it with a Ka-Bar.

God, she needed out of this damn jungle. She didn’t care where so long as there was civilization, good hot food and plenty of drink. She was getting tired of beer. For god’s sake, she hated beer. She’d even consider letting Travers cop a feel with both hands if he could produce a bottle of tequila. She glanced up from her perusal of the top paper in her lap and caught Damien’s eyes on her again. She absentmindedly swallowed and ran the tip of her tongue over her top lip. Big mistake. His eyes shifted to watch her tongue tip. She damn near squirmed in her chair when she saw his eyes darken. Even from where she sat, she couldn’t have missed it. Fuck. She glanced down at the paper on her lap again.


“Okay. So everyone knows what they’re doing.”

That hadn’t been phrased as a question.

“Meeting scheduled for 06:30 tomorrow. Get out of here. Make sure everything is up to speed and then the day is yours. I want you all sharp and fresh for the morning. “

“Shay?..... Shay? Hey. Earth to Shay.”

She glanced up. It took a moment to focus.

“Sorry. Yeah, Santana, what’s up?”

She got hastily to her feet, grasping the papers in one hand and her beer in the other.

“We’re headed over to the watering hole, wanna join us?”

The watering hole was a small place they found doing recon one day. Rocks, a small waterfall, a pool of water. It was a refreshing relief from the humidity. They usually took food and beer and lazed around, relaxing. She cut him a small smile.

“Sure thing. I’ll join you guys in a bit. I want to clean my rifle and the glock.”

“Hell, Shay I’m willing to bet they’re clean and well-oiled already. You, more than anyone else in camp, are the most diligent about their weapons.”

She laughed, clapping him on the shoulder as they left the tent together.

“You’re probably right but it never hurts to go over them just to be sure. I’ll meet you guys down by the Hole in an hour. Hell, I’ll even bring the beer.”

Entering her tent, she tossed the papers on her desk negligently. The beer bottle was upturned, drained and tossed in a waste basket. Walking over to a tall cabinet, she withdrew the rifle case.

Richard's eyes fluttered open. He wondered how long he'd been sleeping. God, why did I bother to get all depressed and emo on Cait? Guess it was the safe road to show her my wing colour change. And I came true with my feelings. Oh my god. What the hell.....He stared at the ceiling and wondered what to do? Should he leave?
Leave and never come back? She did say he could stay.
He rose and went and splashed some water on his face and went to the door. His hand grasped it and he knew when he exited this room, he'd be faced with explaining. Well, it could be worse. The house could have kicked him out again. He smiled as he opened the door and made his way to the kitchen for a drink.

Heart of Ice ~ Moved to Inactive for now.

Jungle Heat ~ Updated.

Richard made his way to the Kitchen and found some fruit and made a nice fuit cocktail for a snack. Sir Thomas made it clear that he would clean up. Even through Richard's meak attempts.
He moved into the library and found a pen and a notebook and started to write down his thoughts. He scribbled endlessly. Pouring his soul into his book.
He was in the chair with the winged back that allowed his wings to stretch gently and expanded them while he wrote so he was more comfortable.
He wrote and wrote and wrote...endless nothingness.
why he felt the way he did about cait....who is she....
why he exploded in front of her and dumped out his heart like a bumbling fool...
All these why's...

A cup of coffee, a small plate of peanut butter no bakes sitting beside it, her eyes latched to both, she sits back in her chair idly chewing on a pencil and looking over posts she needs to respond to. Her mind is only half on her responses and she knows she'll have to do better than that.

She sighed as she also contemplated Richard. Did she go search him out and talk with him now? She didn't want them to feel awkward around each other the next time they met up, but it was going to be... maybe.

Better to go get this over with now. She snagged her cup of coffee and left the study, checking the rooms for him.

Archangel1978 said:

Richard made his way to the Kitchen and found some fruit and made a nice fuit cocktail for a snack. Sir Thomas made it clear that he would clean up. Even through Richard's meak attempts.
He moved into the library and found a pen and a notebook and started to write down his thoughts. He scribbled endlessly. Pouring his soul into his book.
He was in the chair with the winged back that allowed his wings to stretch gently and expanded them while he wrote so he was more comfortable.
He wrote and wrote and wrote...endless nothingness.
why he felt the way he did about cait....who is she....
why he exploded in front of her and dumped out his heart like a bumbling fool...
All these why's...

Click to expand...

She stopped in the kitchen first to rewarm her coffee and then headed for the library. it was the last place to check before knocking on the door to his room.

The door was open and there was Richard, furious scribbling away in a notebook. She leaned on the doorway frame, sipping her coffee, just watching him. He really was a dear soul.