FIC: Mere Anarchy (1/1)
Dec. 31st, 2007 11:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nilchanceTitle: Mere Anarchy
Authors:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nilchance and beanside
Rating: Adult
Pairing: JDM/JA
A/N: Retriever-verse.
Jeff steered his new Librarian--Calliope? Like a fucking music box?--along the hallway towards the elevators. There were plenty of other retrievers on this level. Betas mostly, still having wet dreams about getting their own full-time Els instead of having to use the Librarian pool. After the way the Supervisor was screaming, no one in the hall would meet Jeff's eyes.
Fucking good thing. He could still feel the anger slithering beneath his skin. It was running neck and neck with shame.
Gods, could that possibly have gone worse?
He hated losing control like that at all, but to do it in front of the El who was going to be stuck with him for the forseeable future... unforgivable. After what Librarian Erato had told him about the Librarian program, he should know better. Calliope hadn't seemed ruffled; he'd reacted like Jeff had politely opened a door for him. Hell, Calliope had been more taken aback when Jeff pulled him up off his knees.
Worse, it appeared that someone was keeping tabs on him. Calliope was damn near an amalgam of every stripper he'd ever tipped, every whore who'd given him a handjob, and most of the porn in his collection. Someone was trying to keep him from going outside the program. Not unreasonable after Cupid, but if they kept that close a watch, they should know that Jeff wasn't doing anything likely to put a match to his temper. He'd been careful after Erato not to give them any reason to match him with an El against his will.
Apparently caution wasn't enough, because this morning he'd been woken with a summons. And now here he was, with an El dancing attention and watching with those sharp green eyes. Too sharp for most Librarians. Too sharp for the flat one-way mirror of Calliope's expression. It'd be just Jeff's luck if they sent him a spy.
He knew he had no right to feel sorry for himself, considering what Calliope had to be thinking after that display in the Introduction Room, but fuck, Jeff was tired. Tired of the dominance displays, tired of surveillance, tired of fighting against his own instincts when everything in him wanted to shove Calliope against the wall and bite marks into that pale, pretty throat.
Calliope was watching him, silent. He didn't look afraid, just keenly aware of every move Jeff made. Smart boy, but Jeff still itched to pet him down and feel the lean body under that buttoned-down suit. Jeff recognized the wisdom of that modesty at the same time he hated it, wanted to pop buttons and touch skin that some sick part of him thought was his by right. His to see-touch-taste, his to bruise and bite...
Gritting his teeth, Jeff closed his eyes and breathed through his mouth, where he couldn't smell the faint tang of blood on Calliope's fingers or the close warm whisper of his skin.
"Retriever," Calliope began, but quieted when Jeff held up a hand.
It took a moment, standing in the hallway and panting through his teeth, but the madness receded. In its wake, Jeff felt wrung-out and raw, his body throbbing with sullen want. Need would win out eventually, Jeff knew, but not tonight. Not tonight. At least they had reached the apartment, so that Jeff could stretch out with a stiff drink and a long, cold shower.
Managing a smile, Jeff opened his eyes and looked down at Calliope. "Better. Sorry. Did they give you the security codes to the apartment?"
"Yes," Calliope said. His eyelashes were obscene. "Would you like me to unlock the door for you?"
Like he was incapable of punching a couple of buttons? "No, that's fine. Actually, I rewired the door when I moved in, so you can forget those codes. Didn't like the idea of those assholes being able to wander in whenever they wanted." Jeff punched in the new code quickly, and grinned at Calliope when the door slid open. "Welcome home."
Calliope made a small noise, and Jeff looked around at the apartment, seeing it as a newcomer might. He wasn't much of a housekeeper, for sure. There was a fine layer of dust on all the tables, and the plants were pretty dusty too, except for the baby rosebush he misted daily. That would be one nice thing about having an El. He wouldn't have to worry about his plants while he was on missions.
"Sorry," he muttered, mentally wincing at the tone. He sounded like a pissy three year old. "I didn't know I was getting an El until this morning, so I didn't really have time to pick up."
"It's huge," Calliope breathed.
Cursing his filthy mind, Jeff looked at his apartment again. It was better than staring at Calliope's mouth. The Administrator hadn't told Jeff anything about Calliope's prior assignments, but Jeff had assumed Calliope had been with another alpha. It explained why Jeff had never seen him before, and why they'd been stuck with each other: Calliope had to be carefully trained, owned by the Administrator, his every move predictable to preserve the status quo. And maybe the apartment felt bigger because of the lack of blood-red paint and war trophies pinned to the walls by rusty knives, but it was the standard size for an alpha.
Calliope seemed genuinely surprised, though. And pleased. He paused next to a statue he'd picked up on a run and restored. It showed the Huntress Diana with her hounds clustered around her feet. He'd filled in the chips with a resin he used on the grips of his guns, and carefully repainted it. "That's lovely," he murmured. His hand hovered for a second, then dropped. Smart El. A lot of retrievers would kill anyone, even their El, for touching their trophies.
Jeff picked the statue up, offering it to Calliope. "It was a little beat up when I found it. There were some chips out of the hounds, and the end of the bow was gone. I worked a new one out of resin and restored the paint."
Calliope took it, flashing a slight smile at Jeff. "Thank you. You did an amazing job. If you weren't such a good Retriever, I have no doubt the Asthetic sector would pick you up."
"I've done a little freelance work for them. Mostly in architecture. And I designed the mural for the Palisade of the Maiden."
Calliope's eyes widened. "The Aphrodite Rising?"
Jeff nodded. "Yeah."
"God, Jeff, it's beautiful," Calliope murmured. "So... delicate and feminine, provocative without being trashy. I never would have guessed that a Retriever-" He broke off, eyes widening nervously. The minute shift in his posture, bracing himself to be struck, was almost seamless. The thought of anyone hitting Calliope made Jeff's teeth itch.
"Don't worry about it. Look, why don't we sit for a minute?" Herding Calliope over to the couch, careful not to touch, Jeff watched him sit on the very edge of the cushion. The couch was more comfortable, but Jeff sat on the coffee table anyway to keep some space between them. Their knees were close enough to bump. "Calliope, huh? That's kind of an mouthful. What do you like to be called?"
Calliope looked at him through the veil of his eyelashes. "Whatever pleases you, Retriever."
"Seriously, would you cut that out?" Irritation hardened Jeff's voice, and he swallowed, trying to tone it down. "What do you prefer to be called? I'm not above naming you Fifi after some overbred ancient dog."
Was that a lip twitch? Had his El stifled a laugh? Blessed be, there was a sense of humor in there.
"Jensen," Calliope finally offered. "You may call me Jen, if it'd suit you."
Interesting. Since Librarians were codenamed in the womb, most didn't get any other name. Calliope-- Jensen must've fostered with a kinder family than most. "Jen," Jeff echoed. "Nice."
"I'm glad it pleases you," Jensen said. Either he was serious or his sense of humor was drier than dust.
Jeff pressed his palms into his knees to keep from touching. Up close, he saw there was a faint spatter of freckles on Jensen's pale skin, taking Jensen from numb perfection to heartbreakingly human.
"Listen," Jeff began, carefully picking his words. "I think you can see I'm not much for formality. I like my space. I didn't ask for an El, and I'm pretty sure you didn't ask for a Retriever."
Jensen's gaze twitched away, betraying him. "My duty to serve. You won't see me, then-"
Flexing his fingers on his knees, Jeff said, "But, since you're here, we can at least try to like each other. Maybe be friends."
Jensen eyed Jeff like he'd suggested going outside the Fence for a stroll.
Jeff cracked a smile. "I know. But I'm asking you to try. We'll probably step on each others' toes a lot, but I won't hurt you. Not on purpose."
Frail comfort at best, but the best Jeff could offer with his temper even now whispering how good Jensen would look with a little blood on his mouth, how soft that full lip would feel between Jeff's teeth. Still, Jensen seemed reassured. "Thank you, Re-- Jeff."
Tempting fate, Jeff touched Jensen's knee and murmured, "You're welcome. Which would you rather see first, the kitchen or your room?"
Jensen's eyes went wide behind the shield of his glasses.
Despite everything, Jeff laughed and gripped Jensen's knee. Surprisingly sturdy, his El. "Don't ever play poker. What?"
Lowering his eyes, Jensen hid his uncertain smile. "I... a pallet in the kitchen would be fine. Or beside your bed."
In your bed. Jeff's stomach jerked hot. He forced his grip to gentle before bruises blossomed around Jensen's knee. "Already done. C'mon, I'll show you what I set up."
Jensen rose, his steps whispering behind Jeff's. He'd fade into the wallpaper if Jeff let him. Three steps remained between them, no matter how much Jeff tried to slow to let Jensen walk beside him. Trying to prod Jensen about formality again might be taken as a rebuke, making the submission worse, so Jeff let it slide for the moment. Concentration radiated from Jensen even three feet away, that El training for details ticking away like Jensen was clockwork inside.
The room Jeff had hastily cleared this morning looked humble to Jeff's eyes. It'd been a storage room for the stuff Jeff brought back from outside, sketchpads piled high among artifacts that must've cost their owners millions before the Burn. The room was chilly, bare and cramped; the bed hadn't even arrived. There was no carpet, no paint. It'd been fine that morning, with only a theoretical El and his blood running hot with irritation. But Jensen, already so skinny and so brittle-looking...
Damn. It was starting already.
"You're not staying here tonight, of course," Jeff said in one breath.
Jensen tilted his head, studying the room. With a tone of dawning relief, he said, "The room's my quarters until repairs are made. I can start tonight--"
Jeff's head was starting to hurt. He laid it against the doorframe and resisted the urge to grab Jensen by those narrow shoulders and shake vigorously until reason slid into place. "No, Jen. It's your room. You can stay with me until it's fit for human consumption." Seeing Jensen start to come to another conclusion, Jeff said quickly, "Or anytime you want. My bed is your bed. I'm trying to give you space."
"Space," Jensen echoed warily.
"Yes. For your stuff, when they send it."
"Ah." The word was crisp in Jensen's voice; he turned his face away from Jeff, his profile impossible to read. "I understand now."
Jeff doubted that very much, but he swallowed the urge to press until Jensen spilled over. Instead, he asked, "So you'd like to see the kitchen?"
With a last, longing touch to the doorframe, Jensen followed him. Jeff made a note to rush the bed, if only to quiet his own growling response to Jensen's shock. It was a small kindness to create a corner for his El out of an alpha-sized apartment, and Jeff knew he could've been more generous without feeling a sting. It was plain on Jensen's face that he'd never had as much room as Jeff had grudgingly carved out for him. Might've been guilt, the part of Jeff's mind ticking away on where to find lush fabric and comfortable furniture, but he knew himself better than to buy that excuse. The furniture was just a safer reflection of his need to surround and caress.
The kitchen was one of his many indulgences. He didn't have as many as some Retrievers, but it could hardly be said that he didn't take advantage of the way their handlers practically fawned over them. It made sense. A happy, contented Retriever was less likely to leave the compound, less likely to cause havoc in the general population. They couldn't outright bar a Retriever from leaving, but they could do everything in their power to keep them from wanting to go.
So, the kitchen. Stocked with the finest equipment, and the best foodstuffs. That much, he did have to go off compound for. Most Retrievers didn't care what they ate. He'd spent too long as the child of a farmer, helping to eke out fresh produce from the harsh ground outside of the city.
Jensen's eyes widened when he saw the bowl of fruit on the counter. "Is that-?"
"Pears. I have a small tree on the rooftop in the garden."
"Garden?" Jensen's smile was blinding. "There's a garden?"
"It's in-progress, but yes. I pick up seeds whenever I go on a mission. So far, I've got two pear trees, some herbs and a few flowers. I have seeds-" Jeff pulled the small trunk of seeds out of the cabinet and stopped at the blissful, greedy look on his new El's face. "You like gardening?"
Jensen's eyes shuttered. "I. Yes?"
"Then I guess we'll get the garden up to speed even faster. Come on, I'll show you." Jeff put out his hand automatically, remembered himself, and started to withdraw. To his surprise, Jensen took his hand, following him closely to the steep spiral staircase that led to the rooftop.
Apparently, the garden trumped protocol. Good to know. Jensen's skin was surprisingly warm, his fingers long and curled sweetly against Jeff's palm. Most Els were decorative, but there were callouses on Jensen's hand.
When he opened the door on the little garden, Jensen made a soft noise of pleasure and dropped Jeff's hand. Jeff dug his nails into his palms, trying not to imagine Jensen spread under him. Would he make those noises as Jeff sunk into him, if he bit that sweet throat peeking over the stiff collar of Jensen's shirt?
Jeff shook himself, forcing himself away from the edge, step by aching step. When he trusted himself to look up again, Jen was walking through the flowers, eyes bright. His fingertips lightly traced the edge of a green leaf. For an El, Jensen was damned tactile; most Retrievers reacted badly to the minute traces of body oils on any of their possessions, either enraged or aroused. Why the hell hadn't Jensen's training covered that? Why was he tempting fate after watching Jeff tear a man's eye out?
It didn't matter. Jeff had wanted Jensen to trust him. But this, Jensen laying his fate in Jeff's hands... it made him uneasy.
"I've never seen so much green," Jensen murmured. "And no dust. Where do you get the earth?"
"I've got connections with the techs who create topsoil. They give me a little on the side if I bring things from outside the Fence." When Jensen raised wide eyes, Jeff smiled. "Cigarettes, mostly. No great intrigue."
Jensen nodded, apparently reassured that Jeff wasn't committing any execution-worthy crimes, and looked back at the plants. The leaf of growing magnolia brushed Jensen's arm like it wanted to be stroked more. Jeff sympathized; he wanted that light, reverent touch on his skin, and he could have it if he was willing to violate every principle he had.
"You say it'll get done faster." Looking around the garden, Jensen said, "It's so... what else needs to be done? It's perfect."
Jeff shrugged. "I can show you?"
Jensen met his eyes, bold now that his mind was on something else. Forgetting himself. Or it was all strategy, all lies. Jeff couldn't tell. "Please. Show me."
Jeff wanted to show him everything. Jeff wanted to push him away and lock the door.
Forcing a smile, Jeff said, "Of course."
Authors:
nilchance and beansideRating: Adult
Pairing: JDM/JA
A/N: Retriever-verse.
Jeff steered his new Librarian--Calliope? Like a fucking music box?--along the hallway towards the elevators. There were plenty of other retrievers on this level. Betas mostly, still having wet dreams about getting their own full-time Els instead of having to use the Librarian pool. After the way the Supervisor was screaming, no one in the hall would meet Jeff's eyes.
Fucking good thing. He could still feel the anger slithering beneath his skin. It was running neck and neck with shame.
Gods, could that possibly have gone worse?
He hated losing control like that at all, but to do it in front of the El who was going to be stuck with him for the forseeable future... unforgivable. After what Librarian Erato had told him about the Librarian program, he should know better. Calliope hadn't seemed ruffled; he'd reacted like Jeff had politely opened a door for him. Hell, Calliope had been more taken aback when Jeff pulled him up off his knees.
Worse, it appeared that someone was keeping tabs on him. Calliope was damn near an amalgam of every stripper he'd ever tipped, every whore who'd given him a handjob, and most of the porn in his collection. Someone was trying to keep him from going outside the program. Not unreasonable after Cupid, but if they kept that close a watch, they should know that Jeff wasn't doing anything likely to put a match to his temper. He'd been careful after Erato not to give them any reason to match him with an El against his will.
Apparently caution wasn't enough, because this morning he'd been woken with a summons. And now here he was, with an El dancing attention and watching with those sharp green eyes. Too sharp for most Librarians. Too sharp for the flat one-way mirror of Calliope's expression. It'd be just Jeff's luck if they sent him a spy.
He knew he had no right to feel sorry for himself, considering what Calliope had to be thinking after that display in the Introduction Room, but fuck, Jeff was tired. Tired of the dominance displays, tired of surveillance, tired of fighting against his own instincts when everything in him wanted to shove Calliope against the wall and bite marks into that pale, pretty throat.
Calliope was watching him, silent. He didn't look afraid, just keenly aware of every move Jeff made. Smart boy, but Jeff still itched to pet him down and feel the lean body under that buttoned-down suit. Jeff recognized the wisdom of that modesty at the same time he hated it, wanted to pop buttons and touch skin that some sick part of him thought was his by right. His to see-touch-taste, his to bruise and bite...
Gritting his teeth, Jeff closed his eyes and breathed through his mouth, where he couldn't smell the faint tang of blood on Calliope's fingers or the close warm whisper of his skin.
"Retriever," Calliope began, but quieted when Jeff held up a hand.
It took a moment, standing in the hallway and panting through his teeth, but the madness receded. In its wake, Jeff felt wrung-out and raw, his body throbbing with sullen want. Need would win out eventually, Jeff knew, but not tonight. Not tonight. At least they had reached the apartment, so that Jeff could stretch out with a stiff drink and a long, cold shower.
Managing a smile, Jeff opened his eyes and looked down at Calliope. "Better. Sorry. Did they give you the security codes to the apartment?"
"Yes," Calliope said. His eyelashes were obscene. "Would you like me to unlock the door for you?"
Like he was incapable of punching a couple of buttons? "No, that's fine. Actually, I rewired the door when I moved in, so you can forget those codes. Didn't like the idea of those assholes being able to wander in whenever they wanted." Jeff punched in the new code quickly, and grinned at Calliope when the door slid open. "Welcome home."
Calliope made a small noise, and Jeff looked around at the apartment, seeing it as a newcomer might. He wasn't much of a housekeeper, for sure. There was a fine layer of dust on all the tables, and the plants were pretty dusty too, except for the baby rosebush he misted daily. That would be one nice thing about having an El. He wouldn't have to worry about his plants while he was on missions.
"Sorry," he muttered, mentally wincing at the tone. He sounded like a pissy three year old. "I didn't know I was getting an El until this morning, so I didn't really have time to pick up."
"It's huge," Calliope breathed.
Cursing his filthy mind, Jeff looked at his apartment again. It was better than staring at Calliope's mouth. The Administrator hadn't told Jeff anything about Calliope's prior assignments, but Jeff had assumed Calliope had been with another alpha. It explained why Jeff had never seen him before, and why they'd been stuck with each other: Calliope had to be carefully trained, owned by the Administrator, his every move predictable to preserve the status quo. And maybe the apartment felt bigger because of the lack of blood-red paint and war trophies pinned to the walls by rusty knives, but it was the standard size for an alpha.
Calliope seemed genuinely surprised, though. And pleased. He paused next to a statue he'd picked up on a run and restored. It showed the Huntress Diana with her hounds clustered around her feet. He'd filled in the chips with a resin he used on the grips of his guns, and carefully repainted it. "That's lovely," he murmured. His hand hovered for a second, then dropped. Smart El. A lot of retrievers would kill anyone, even their El, for touching their trophies.
Jeff picked the statue up, offering it to Calliope. "It was a little beat up when I found it. There were some chips out of the hounds, and the end of the bow was gone. I worked a new one out of resin and restored the paint."
Calliope took it, flashing a slight smile at Jeff. "Thank you. You did an amazing job. If you weren't such a good Retriever, I have no doubt the Asthetic sector would pick you up."
"I've done a little freelance work for them. Mostly in architecture. And I designed the mural for the Palisade of the Maiden."
Calliope's eyes widened. "The Aphrodite Rising?"
Jeff nodded. "Yeah."
"God, Jeff, it's beautiful," Calliope murmured. "So... delicate and feminine, provocative without being trashy. I never would have guessed that a Retriever-" He broke off, eyes widening nervously. The minute shift in his posture, bracing himself to be struck, was almost seamless. The thought of anyone hitting Calliope made Jeff's teeth itch.
"Don't worry about it. Look, why don't we sit for a minute?" Herding Calliope over to the couch, careful not to touch, Jeff watched him sit on the very edge of the cushion. The couch was more comfortable, but Jeff sat on the coffee table anyway to keep some space between them. Their knees were close enough to bump. "Calliope, huh? That's kind of an mouthful. What do you like to be called?"
Calliope looked at him through the veil of his eyelashes. "Whatever pleases you, Retriever."
"Seriously, would you cut that out?" Irritation hardened Jeff's voice, and he swallowed, trying to tone it down. "What do you prefer to be called? I'm not above naming you Fifi after some overbred ancient dog."
Was that a lip twitch? Had his El stifled a laugh? Blessed be, there was a sense of humor in there.
"Jensen," Calliope finally offered. "You may call me Jen, if it'd suit you."
Interesting. Since Librarians were codenamed in the womb, most didn't get any other name. Calliope-- Jensen must've fostered with a kinder family than most. "Jen," Jeff echoed. "Nice."
"I'm glad it pleases you," Jensen said. Either he was serious or his sense of humor was drier than dust.
Jeff pressed his palms into his knees to keep from touching. Up close, he saw there was a faint spatter of freckles on Jensen's pale skin, taking Jensen from numb perfection to heartbreakingly human.
"Listen," Jeff began, carefully picking his words. "I think you can see I'm not much for formality. I like my space. I didn't ask for an El, and I'm pretty sure you didn't ask for a Retriever."
Jensen's gaze twitched away, betraying him. "My duty to serve. You won't see me, then-"
Flexing his fingers on his knees, Jeff said, "But, since you're here, we can at least try to like each other. Maybe be friends."
Jensen eyed Jeff like he'd suggested going outside the Fence for a stroll.
Jeff cracked a smile. "I know. But I'm asking you to try. We'll probably step on each others' toes a lot, but I won't hurt you. Not on purpose."
Frail comfort at best, but the best Jeff could offer with his temper even now whispering how good Jensen would look with a little blood on his mouth, how soft that full lip would feel between Jeff's teeth. Still, Jensen seemed reassured. "Thank you, Re-- Jeff."
Tempting fate, Jeff touched Jensen's knee and murmured, "You're welcome. Which would you rather see first, the kitchen or your room?"
Jensen's eyes went wide behind the shield of his glasses.
Despite everything, Jeff laughed and gripped Jensen's knee. Surprisingly sturdy, his El. "Don't ever play poker. What?"
Lowering his eyes, Jensen hid his uncertain smile. "I... a pallet in the kitchen would be fine. Or beside your bed."
In your bed. Jeff's stomach jerked hot. He forced his grip to gentle before bruises blossomed around Jensen's knee. "Already done. C'mon, I'll show you what I set up."
Jensen rose, his steps whispering behind Jeff's. He'd fade into the wallpaper if Jeff let him. Three steps remained between them, no matter how much Jeff tried to slow to let Jensen walk beside him. Trying to prod Jensen about formality again might be taken as a rebuke, making the submission worse, so Jeff let it slide for the moment. Concentration radiated from Jensen even three feet away, that El training for details ticking away like Jensen was clockwork inside.
The room Jeff had hastily cleared this morning looked humble to Jeff's eyes. It'd been a storage room for the stuff Jeff brought back from outside, sketchpads piled high among artifacts that must've cost their owners millions before the Burn. The room was chilly, bare and cramped; the bed hadn't even arrived. There was no carpet, no paint. It'd been fine that morning, with only a theoretical El and his blood running hot with irritation. But Jensen, already so skinny and so brittle-looking...
Damn. It was starting already.
"You're not staying here tonight, of course," Jeff said in one breath.
Jensen tilted his head, studying the room. With a tone of dawning relief, he said, "The room's my quarters until repairs are made. I can start tonight--"
Jeff's head was starting to hurt. He laid it against the doorframe and resisted the urge to grab Jensen by those narrow shoulders and shake vigorously until reason slid into place. "No, Jen. It's your room. You can stay with me until it's fit for human consumption." Seeing Jensen start to come to another conclusion, Jeff said quickly, "Or anytime you want. My bed is your bed. I'm trying to give you space."
"Space," Jensen echoed warily.
"Yes. For your stuff, when they send it."
"Ah." The word was crisp in Jensen's voice; he turned his face away from Jeff, his profile impossible to read. "I understand now."
Jeff doubted that very much, but he swallowed the urge to press until Jensen spilled over. Instead, he asked, "So you'd like to see the kitchen?"
With a last, longing touch to the doorframe, Jensen followed him. Jeff made a note to rush the bed, if only to quiet his own growling response to Jensen's shock. It was a small kindness to create a corner for his El out of an alpha-sized apartment, and Jeff knew he could've been more generous without feeling a sting. It was plain on Jensen's face that he'd never had as much room as Jeff had grudgingly carved out for him. Might've been guilt, the part of Jeff's mind ticking away on where to find lush fabric and comfortable furniture, but he knew himself better than to buy that excuse. The furniture was just a safer reflection of his need to surround and caress.
The kitchen was one of his many indulgences. He didn't have as many as some Retrievers, but it could hardly be said that he didn't take advantage of the way their handlers practically fawned over them. It made sense. A happy, contented Retriever was less likely to leave the compound, less likely to cause havoc in the general population. They couldn't outright bar a Retriever from leaving, but they could do everything in their power to keep them from wanting to go.
So, the kitchen. Stocked with the finest equipment, and the best foodstuffs. That much, he did have to go off compound for. Most Retrievers didn't care what they ate. He'd spent too long as the child of a farmer, helping to eke out fresh produce from the harsh ground outside of the city.
Jensen's eyes widened when he saw the bowl of fruit on the counter. "Is that-?"
"Pears. I have a small tree on the rooftop in the garden."
"Garden?" Jensen's smile was blinding. "There's a garden?"
"It's in-progress, but yes. I pick up seeds whenever I go on a mission. So far, I've got two pear trees, some herbs and a few flowers. I have seeds-" Jeff pulled the small trunk of seeds out of the cabinet and stopped at the blissful, greedy look on his new El's face. "You like gardening?"
Jensen's eyes shuttered. "I. Yes?"
"Then I guess we'll get the garden up to speed even faster. Come on, I'll show you." Jeff put out his hand automatically, remembered himself, and started to withdraw. To his surprise, Jensen took his hand, following him closely to the steep spiral staircase that led to the rooftop.
Apparently, the garden trumped protocol. Good to know. Jensen's skin was surprisingly warm, his fingers long and curled sweetly against Jeff's palm. Most Els were decorative, but there were callouses on Jensen's hand.
When he opened the door on the little garden, Jensen made a soft noise of pleasure and dropped Jeff's hand. Jeff dug his nails into his palms, trying not to imagine Jensen spread under him. Would he make those noises as Jeff sunk into him, if he bit that sweet throat peeking over the stiff collar of Jensen's shirt?
Jeff shook himself, forcing himself away from the edge, step by aching step. When he trusted himself to look up again, Jen was walking through the flowers, eyes bright. His fingertips lightly traced the edge of a green leaf. For an El, Jensen was damned tactile; most Retrievers reacted badly to the minute traces of body oils on any of their possessions, either enraged or aroused. Why the hell hadn't Jensen's training covered that? Why was he tempting fate after watching Jeff tear a man's eye out?
It didn't matter. Jeff had wanted Jensen to trust him. But this, Jensen laying his fate in Jeff's hands... it made him uneasy.
"I've never seen so much green," Jensen murmured. "And no dust. Where do you get the earth?"
"I've got connections with the techs who create topsoil. They give me a little on the side if I bring things from outside the Fence." When Jensen raised wide eyes, Jeff smiled. "Cigarettes, mostly. No great intrigue."
Jensen nodded, apparently reassured that Jeff wasn't committing any execution-worthy crimes, and looked back at the plants. The leaf of growing magnolia brushed Jensen's arm like it wanted to be stroked more. Jeff sympathized; he wanted that light, reverent touch on his skin, and he could have it if he was willing to violate every principle he had.
"You say it'll get done faster." Looking around the garden, Jensen said, "It's so... what else needs to be done? It's perfect."
Jeff shrugged. "I can show you?"
Jensen met his eyes, bold now that his mind was on something else. Forgetting himself. Or it was all strategy, all lies. Jeff couldn't tell. "Please. Show me."
Jeff wanted to show him everything. Jeff wanted to push him away and lock the door.
Forcing a smile, Jeff said, "Of course."
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-01-01 04:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-01 04:57 am (UTC)That's not a very gracious response to such a beautiful gift, is it. I'm sorry, but I have no self-control in the face of something like this. You may chastise me at your leisure.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-01 05:03 am (UTC)I enjoy seeing 'Jeff' as a man of honour in spite of his profession. And this is AU enough that I don't feel funny reading 'JEFF'.
I was one of the ones who asked for more retriever verse in the anonymous request thing, so thanks!
no subject
Date: 2008-01-01 05:04 am (UTC)Jeff's attraction to Jensen is intense. Wow.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-01 05:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-01 05:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-01 05:18 am (UTC)I think y'all write some of the tightest & most intriguing 'verses out there. I'm never quite sure what you're going to give me & I get insanely excited whenever something new from one or both of you pops up on my FL.
*beams*
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Date: 2008-01-01 05:19 am (UTC)Just...the push and pull between them, like magnets trying to align. Such a deep unspoken yearning and a correspondingly deep fear of seeking to sate that yearning. It kills. It KILLS. I just want to strip them naked and shove them in a room together.
*sighs* This is why I'm permanently camped outside your respective LJs, you know.
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Date: 2008-01-01 05:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-01 05:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-01 06:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-01 06:37 am (UTC)Happy New Years!
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Date: 2008-01-01 06:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-01 08:19 am (UTC)I'm going to take the appearance of this story as a good omen about 2008.
I like AUs. A love well-written AUs. This AU? Off those charts. I long for more because you've created such a complex world, but you unravel the details so effortlessly. I'm intrigued to know why this Jensen is so taken by things that grow. I have a few still not coalesced ideas, but I'm willing to let them stay embryonic and trust y'all to get me there. The idea of a JDM who has a code of conduct that no one around him, including those who made him, warped him a lot in the process, and have no use for him beyond that of a weapon, could possibly understand is absolutely riveting.
I look forward to the next installment of this more than anything else I think y'all have ever written. And I like just about everything. That I like this piece that much says a lot.
Thanks for making 2008 start on such an awesome note.
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Date: 2008-01-01 08:28 am (UTC)*takes deep breaths*
Just...good stuff, but wow, i'm all...*jangle* now.
:)
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Date: 2008-01-01 08:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-01 09:00 am (UTC)You ladies evoke such beautiful emotions with your writing it's amazing.
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Date: 2008-01-01 09:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-01 09:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-01 09:19 am (UTC)happy new year
Date: 2008-01-01 09:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-01 10:34 am (UTC)I've recently discovered that I have a kink for people being treated well when they're expecting to be treated badly. I blame you two for this. Specifically, I blame Deathknell.
Guh. This is awesome. Help, my family have suddenly descended! Okay, will reread later...
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Date: 2008-01-01 11:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-01 12:37 pm (UTC)What a wonderful New Year's gift. I couldn't have been happier to see this - though seeing Deathknell or your OT3 verse or the Hooker verse would probably have made me just as gleeful.
Happy New Year
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Date: 2008-01-01 12:46 pm (UTC)