Valentine

Wally's expression upon my return could best be described as 'unimpressed', and I lingered in the doorway, regarding him askance.

He sat on the couch and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his chin resting on clasped hands.

"My, someone's serious all of a sudden," I teased.

Wally grimaced, and I saw that I had erred.

I stepped inside and shut the door.

"Your tattoo is done?"

I nodded, crossing the living area to sit in his lap, but something in his demeanour made me stop halfway across the carpet, and I found myself standing awkwardly before him.

"Felicity put some ointment on it. It's already healed," I added quickly, "You can enchant it whenever you're ready."

Wally nodded but remained quiet. I knew him well enough by now to know that he was trying to find the right words for something.

I bit my lip and bowed my head slightly, "Have I done something naughty? Do I need to be punished?"

"For fuck's sake, Val, this is exactly the problem."

I recoiled as if slapped. His frustration with me teasing him was one thing, but his tone made clear this was not our usual back and forth. He seemed truly upset with me, and I could smell the faintest hint of anger in the air.

"I just finished dealing with a city full of demigods and the dead, and looming on the horizon," he added, pointing sharply to the east, "There's Simon and his army of brainwashed spellcasters. Oh, and let's not forget Temerity. We're sheltering someone she likely still regards as a threat and an enemy. Someone who is having a hard time adjusting to not being a Baroness anymore, someone I find out you've been tormenting in your free time, which I can't imagine is making it easier for the poor woman."

I turned my face to the side, "I would hardly describe it as 'tormenting'," I protested.

"I hear from Amity that you wanted me to use the poor woman as a footrest. I had a chance to talk to the Baroness while waiting for Felicity to finish your tattoo. I thought the footrest thing was a lot, but I heard plenty more from her."

"Perhaps I made some risque allusions, but she needs to learn her place," I insisted, though I did not turn to meet Wallace's gaze.

"And what is that place exactly? I've been going back and forth on this whole Lord thing, mostly because you guys keep acting as if it's the sensible way to run things."

"Wallace, you're a new upstart noble, and Constance was an established Baroness. You need to make sure she understands her new place, lest you find your positions reversed. There are many, even in Temerity's court, who would see her rule of the fortress as more legitimate than yours."

"Nah. This is the problem. I'm not doing the Lord thing. I've been going along quietly because it's convenient to have people shut up and do what I tell them, but it's clear that trying to find a middle ground isn't working. I never wanted to grind Constance under my heel. The point wasn't to teach her she was less than me, you, or any of the others. The point," Wallace continued, as he fought to keep his voice level, "Was for her to understand her position was the equal of anyone else's."

"Equal, under you-"

"No," Wallace cut me off, "Equal means equal. The point of having her dig the garden wasn't to teach her she was dirt. The point was it needed doing, and she didn't have a ton of other skills, what with being a Baroness and all. You getting all hot and bothered watching her didn't exactly factor into the decision."

"I- I-" I stammered, "If you think I need to be-"

"What, punished? Like this is high school? Am I supposed to give you detention? I don't need you to stand in the naughty corner. I need you to get your shit together," Wallace sighed and rubbed his eyes, "You know, I was pretty upset when I went to talk to Constance. Thankfully she can be pretty understanding. She was the one who talked me down and said I should be worried more about you than herself."

I snapped my head up to look at Wallace, "What, why?"

"I like our little game, Val. But it's our little game. You don't get to take out your..."

I looked down at my feet and wiggled my bare toes, "Frustration," I supplied.

"I'm happy to be your outlet, but you don't get to take out your frustration on anyone else. Turns out Baroness Constance is pretty savvy. She said you might just need someone to talk to."

I bit my lip again, this time out of nerves rather than any attempt at flirtation.

Wally's voice softened, "Come here. I'll enchant Felicity's work, and if you've got anything to share, I'll listen."

I closed my eyes and nodded. I found the zip in the hollow of my neck and drew it down to where it stopped between my legs. I had held certain presumptions about how this evening would go, so I'd omitted my usual silken shift. I rolled my shoulders and was left standing naked before Wallace in a pool of purple silk as the light from the setting sun streamed through the windows.

I was nervous as I took the last few steps across the carpet to Wallace, where I laid down with my hips across his lap.

I felt Wallace draw the curtain of hair aside and lay his hand against the tattoo. I'd not bluffed when I showed off the test drawing Felicity did for me. A six-fingered handprint, an exact copy of Wallace's, wrapped around my hip as if he held me from behind. The colour was even less subtle than the design, though that had more to do with the materials used than any decision on my part. It was bright silver and stood out starkly against my purple flesh. In the future, I would need to take care with thin clothing and light colours, lest it show through. The idea bothered me not at all, but I did not want to embarrass Wallace.

The big man said nothing as I laid there. I didn't realize how stiffly I was holding myself until I felt Wallace's free hand on my back, stroking it gently.

He said nothing further as he worked on the spell, neither prying nor prodding, a fact for which I was grateful.

I closed my eyes and rested my head on my forearms, savouring his ministrations. Only once I felt as if I were a puddle in Wallace's lap did I speak.

"I'll apologize to Constance," I promised.

"That's good," Wallace said softly, "But what about yourself? How are you doing?"

"Sometimes, I feel as if I am mad. I have fought my whole life to be in control. I told you of my accident with the horse. It left me unable to stand. Do you have any idea what that's like? I grasped for any modicum of control I could. I tried to arrange for the construction of a chair that would give me some independence. But my family kept such things from me as they were 'unsightly'. Instead, they dressed me up like a broken doll and had me play the piano for their guests. And if I wanted to stop, to get away from that damnable instrument, I had to ask someone else to carry me from the bench. Then, once the cataclysm took us from that world, and magic was able to heal my wounds, I still had to fight for control of my family's holdings. And now I'm fighting to be rid of those same holdings. But the truth is, I don't want to be in control of anything. Not a thing. Gods, it is so much work."

I felt Wallace's delicate fingertips press harder as he massaged my back and shoulders, and I realized I'd grown tense. I allowed myself to relax and continued.

"But I still want to be strong. After my hips healed and I learned to walk again, I would go to a different temple in the city every night. At each, I would pray and swear that whichever granted me the strength I so desperately needed would have my eternal devotion. That I would kneel in worship to them for an hour every day for the rest of my life. I just- It just feels as if I want two completely different things, both of which are impossible, even on their own."

"Well, becoming stronger, that's not impossible. I'm doing that right now. As for the other thing," Wallace hmmed, "I think maybe all you need is someone to count on. The piano thing, was the problem having too little or too much control, or was it the people you were counting on kinda sucked? I've done the control freak thing before. I'm not going to pretend a bad grade on a school project is anything like what you went through, but I get the idea. You trust someone else to handle something, and they fuck it up. That only needs to happen a few times before you decide that you need to do it yourself if you want something done right. So you fight to make sure you can do things yourself."

"What changed?"

"For me? I met you," Wallace replied simply, "Amity and Regina aren't half-bad either. I knew when I left them with you that they'd do as good a job as I would, and I was right. They got you home, safe and sound."

I sighed softly. I found it hard to disagree with Wally, but gods did it feel good to lay there like a discarded toy and let his hands work over me.

"I'm sorry I was going along with everyone else, trying to force you into ruling as Lord of all this."

"That's okay," he said warmly, "I'll talk to the others tomorrow, and we'll nail some things down. No single one of us will be in charge of everything, and we'll all get a say in the decisions that affect us. I won't have to be Lord Wallace, and you won't have to be Lady Valentine."

"Oh gods, I just got rid of my title. I wasn't about to become Lady Valentine a second time."

"Oh? What exactly was your title going to be? Consort? Paramour?"

"I had something far less prestigious in mind," I admitted with a hidden smile.

"I don't want to force anything on you, but I would like you to try being at least a little involved in running the place. If you still decide it's not for you, then I'll understand. But we've got a pretty good team here, and I think you can count on them."

"I'll try it."

"I'm glad to hear it, now," Wally swatted my backside, "Hop up, let's see how I did."

I rolled onto my back and pushed myself up, so I was sitting in Wally's lap, and he raised both his hands to head level.

"Come on, let's see how strong you are," he prompted.

I didn't feel any different, but I did as he indicated and interlaced my fingers with his. His hands closed over mine, and I felt the strength in those huge mitts. He began to push my back, and I resisted out of reflex.

"Oh my," I breathed.

My hands were shaking with the strain, but I was holding him back.

I pushed against him and began to force his arms back against the couch.

He was letting me win, I was no fool, but only barely. And that grin, as I forced him back and got my arms around his neck, it was like a ray of sunshine.

We let go, and I hugged him tight.

"Thank you, Wally. I suppose this saves me the trouble of spending all my time at a temple."

"A good thing too," he agreed, "I don't think I can last an hour."

I giggled and nuzzled his neck, breathing deeply.

The anger pheromones were gone, and left in their wake was a faint trace of arousal.

I was glad I was getting him at least a little excited. I'd been ready to go for ages now and was positively dripping with desire.

"Wally," I simpered, "Thank you for listening and for sharing. I promise I'll try to do as you suggested, though sometimes you might need to remind me. And I know you've gone to all the trouble to make me nearly as strong as you, but..."

Wally rolled his eyes, "Here we go," he sighed, though I saw his reluctant grin.

"Sometimes, I really don't want to be in control of anything. At all."

Wally shrugged, "Alright then. Do your best."

I frowned, "Pardon me?"

"I just went to all the trouble of making you stronger and increasing your endurance. You should have the energy to run a marathon now," Wally leaned back and spread his arms over the back of the couch, "I'm tired of doing all the work while you lay there, cross-eyed and panting, complaining about how I'm too gentle."

"That's hardly fair," I whined, "I was stuck in bed for a week 'recovering', and the whole time I was looking forward to when you'd finally throw me down on the piano and-"

Suddenly, I could no longer hear my voice. My mouth was still moving, but no words came out.

Wally nodded sagely, "Yup, mute button was a good choice."

I narrowed my eyes and growled. At least I could still do that.

Wally raised his hands and then let them drop, "You were the one who didn't want to be in control of anything. Go on, do as you're told."

I crossed my arms and glared at him.

He looked me up and down, a smirk on his face, "Judging from the look of you, I don't think I'm going to be the first to give in."

Fine, a new strategy then.

I scrambled off Wally's lap and onto the floor. I dropped to my knees and put my hands together in supplication, gazing up at Wally with the most pitiful expression I could manage. He laughed when I added in a forlorn whimper, and reached over to ruffle my hair.

"I do spoil you, don't I?"

I nodded earnestly, and Wallace began to pull off his sweater. He tossed it aside and clenched his fist in my hair. He hauled me to my feet and hooked another arm around my leg to lift me roughly into the air.

I squirmed in his grip as he carried me over to the piano and threw me down atop it with my legs hanging over the side. I went to roll over onto my belly, but Wallace caught me while he was still busy with his shirt and pushed me over onto my back before kicking out of his jeans.

"Yes, please," I gasped.

Wallace wrapped his hands around my thighs- as in, around, my thighs -and pulled us together. I screamed in exultation, and let every drop of arousal and aggression pheromone flow out of my body.

My skin was slick with the oily sheen of it, but Wallace kept his iron grip around my thighs. I tried to contribute, but I could hardly lift my arms. I felt like a toy in Wallace's grasp. I resolved to make it up to him. It wasn't fair for him to do all the work while I got the best end of the deal.

I yowled angrily as I drew close to the edge, only for Wallace to take slower, shallower strokes. At this point, I couldn't tell if Wallace still had me muted or if my mind was just too muddled for words, and my pleading for him to take me more roughly came out as a weak mewling.

But he did it twice more, the bastard. Pushing me close to the edge, only to pull back at the last moment.

I almost lost my mind when he withdrew. If I could have formed a single coherent thought, I would have forged it into a spell to strike him dead. But he spared himself my wrath when he flipped me onto my stomach and pressed me hard against the edge of the piano, leaving me no room to squirm. I felt his hand on the flesh of my hip, precisely covering the silvery tattoo.

I giggled when I realized I could see my reflection in the surface of the piano, stained black and polished to a mirror finish. God, I looked like a mess. My eyes were wild and feverish with desire, and my tongue lolled out as I panted for breath. My hair was everywhere, matted to my body with sweat and the oily sheen left by my pheromones.

I knew what was coming, and I kept my eyes fixed on my reflection. I felt a voyeuristic glee watching the pained expression on my face as Wallace took me again. With his mark on my body to grant me strength, he no longer feared hurting me, and each stroke made the piano jump and shoved it across the floor.

My eyes watered and my vision swam as I felt the moment approach, and I blinked rapidly to clear my eyes, not wanting to miss it. I let out a high moan as I watched my features go slack, and my cheeks turned bright purple. The show lasted only a moment before I lost control of my pheromone glands, and what little I still had fell in a mist to cover the mirror finish. My arms gave out, and I fell flat against the piano, my body still twitching as Wallace took his due.

Wally's hands disappeared from my hips a few moments later, and I felt him draw away. Another moment, and I heard the shower running.

I got it in my head that I should join him in the shower. After all, he wasn't quite finished. We could still go for round three. But my legs gave out when I pushed myself off of the piano, and I fell to the floor in a crumpled heap.

I was still there panting when Wallace returned from the shower. He was shirtless but wore his jeans, and his hair was still wet.

"You need a hand there?"

"No," I gasped as I struggled to my feet, "But there is one more thing..."

Cassius

With the sun long since set, it had begun to cool, but neither myself nor Phoebe had made any move to leave the quiet park bench. The bench stood in the shadow of a young oak tree, whose leaves rustled overhead, the only interruption in the otherwise silent night.

Phoebe had her arm around me while I rested my head on her shoulder, occasionally taking a sip from her wineglass. We'd had a little picnic out in the park, though all that remained of it was the wine Phoebe was working on finishing off.

I felt her turn to the side and tilt her head back.

"Oh my."

I lifted my head from her shoulder and followed her gaze.

"What the hell?"

"It seems Lord Wallace's enchantment has worked."

"No kidding."

Valentine- we were pretty far off, but it looked an awful lot like she was naked -walked to the balcony railing with the piano held over her head and threw it over the side with a shout.

It hurtled towards the ground and hit the asphalt with a clang. Damn thing all but exploded as splinters, ivories, and bits of wire flew in all directions. She threw her fists into the air and screamed once, twice, three times, before turning back and going inside.

There was a long pause as both Phoebe and I were silent, and we watched curious lights come on in the other's rooms. Finally, Phoebe spoke.

"I suppose I should go up there."

"Should we check on Val?"

"What? Gods no, Val looks about as pleased as I've ever seen her. It's Wallace I'm worried about."