Malta

[peace_inthe_violence]

This is a fairy tale of blood and bullets
It is the story of three men and three women and a small island between Italy and Africa.
This is a story about tragedy and pain, about healing and hope, but mostly it is about
love.

Comments

[orgilotes]

Andy sighed gently against him, trying to find the words she needed; the sun was warm and spoporific, as was laying on Booker, and she didn't want to drag him down touching on any of the topics again. "We both saw it," she answered. "He and Joe watched what happened when we lost Quynh, and...we didn't want you to fall that far. Not without us there to catch you," she murmured.

She'd rarely talked about how bad it got once Quynh had been lost, but Booker had known them all this time. He could guess.

[transfuge]

It had been a very close thing. Booker hadn't felt that... bad in a long time. Bad was a cheap way to put it but he didn't know how to put into words the wet blanket of grief that clouded his mind and dragged down his heart.

"I think that's why I need to see them. I have to put it to rest in myself or I'll end up consumed by it." Booker had thought about it more and more as he dreamed of Jean-Pierre. The hurt just kept killing him again and again.

He was quiet for a moment. "Do you want to see if we could find her? With modern technology and perhaps new information discovered by some historian?"

The ocean was still so unknown Booker wasn't hopeful but there were better methods now than before. Maybe they could help Andy bury her grief as well.

[orgilotes]

"I understand," she murmured, quiet and still once he mentioned looking for Quynh again; Andy had looked for fifty years, getting more and more desperate to find her, and nothing had come of it.

"Did Nicky and Joe ever tell you how long we looked for her?" Andy asked, voice soft. It wasn't a conversation she had often, because even after five hundred years it was still painful. Quynh had been her lodestone, her lover, her everything: she'd dreamed of her for near a thousand years before ever meeting her, and she was like an angel to Andy, the closest she'd ever come to believing in the divine. "Fifty years, and we--I had to stop. I couldn't... All I could see when I closed my eyes was her being dragged into that coffin. She screamed for me the whole time, and I couldn't get to her."

[transfuge]

Booker slowly directed them towards the shallow end of the pool. As nice as it was to float around he needed his arms which meant his feet had to hit the bottom. Luckily, he was tall enough to that comfortably once they were in the five foot depth.

He touched down with his arms wrapped around her tightly. They understood grief on a level that might be hard for Joe and Nicky who still had the great love of their life. Their pains were different was all.

"They told me a little bit." Those times Booker's nightmares had woken them and he was a babbling mess over it. He turned his head and kissed her hair as if he could pour comfort into her. "We don't have to. I never want to put you through that pain again."

The last thing Booker wanted was to hurt her.

[orgilotes]

She'd taken a breath to say it was alright, that talking about it wouldn't break her again, but at that kiss to her head silenced all the thoughts with a quiet twitch of her mouth that even Andy would have been hard-pressed to predict as a smile or not.

"I wish I could look again. I miss her--she was...everything," Andy confessed. "I know they don't understand, because they still have each other. But it's like re-learning how to do everything, just...missing something. Everything feels wrong for a long time." And some of it never feels exactly right.

"It's okay, Book. You're not hurting me." Not any worse than she could hurt herself by thinking about it, anyway.

[transfuge]

"It's like... waking up from an explosion before the inner ear heals," he said softly as he thought about his wife. She had died in his arms, old and tired. She had asked if they could live forever together and he had wept so hard because he couldn't give her that no matter how much he wanted to. "Your balance is off even if you're lying down. Everything wobbling and spinning as you wait for it to heal."

His world had started falling apart with her death. Then he lost Michel out at sea and Jean-Pierre got cancer... it was misery without his wife. It was hell until his heart scabbed over enough to go on.

He still kept his lips against her hair and his arms solidly around her like he could protect her from it or at least help her carry that burden. He would do that for her.

"You say the word, Andy, and we'd all be willing to try to find her. Where you go, we follow."

[orgilotes]

She nodded, toes barely skimming the pool floor where they were standing, weight secure in Booker's grasp. "Something like that. The whole world has shifted," she said, finally picking her head up to look at Booker's face, hands framing his jaw.

"I'm not supposed to be making you sad again," Andy murmured, voice softer, almost apologetic as she took one of his hands and carefully laced their fingers together: he'd be her otter, holding hands so they wouldn't float apart from each other in the pool. It wasn't that big, but any distance seemed too much right then.

[transfuge]

Booker smiled a little and yes it was sad and there were a few tears in his eyes but that was how it always was when he thought of his family. He would never stop grieving them. "I can be sad with you. You'll make me smile a few minutes later."

They wouldn't wallow. He wouldn't wallow in it. It wasn't like that night she found him drunk. That was a very bad night.

"And it's no hardship to spend a little time now admiring you in the sun." He brought her hand up and kissed her knuckles like he was a proper gentleman.

[orgilotes]

"I try."

Andy usually did attempt to keep her mood light and fluid, knowing how dark it could get otherwise, and it spread easy among the others the longer they spent time here. It wasn't the longest break from the mercenary life the group had taken: Andy remembered the better portion of a year spent rebuilding a destroyed Aboriginal school, somewhere in the middle of nowhere in Australia. Booker had been in high demand given his penchant for reading to the children and she knew he'd loved it.

The memory and his bringing her hand up to his lips made her smile, a little joyful laugh escaping her throat. "Sebastien Le Livre, you terrible flirt," she teased. Andy liked seeing him so free, and happier than he'd been in a long time. Maybe ever, certainly since the death of his wife; none of them could take the place of his first, mortal, family and Andy knew that. It wasn't even a matter of trying hard enough and getting through. Nothing would erase them, not the painful memories of watching his children pass before him. Andy hasn't always made herself obvious about it but even when Booker's youngest was in the hospital she'd watched him, ready to step in when he broke from the weight of carrying and denying that silent, hulking inevitability.

The poets had had something true with their words. How terrible it was to love something death could touch.

[transfuge]

There as nothing any of them could do to completely erase the love or the hurt he still felt over it. Booker's heart would always hold his mortal family close. Just as he would always love the three of them, his found family. One love didn't overshadow the other. One love simply hurt more because it was gone forever.

"I happen to think I'm a very good flirt," he mused as he tugged her further into the shallow end so her feet could touch the bottom of the pool. Then he swept her up and began a somewhat awkward waltz.

It was much harder to waltz in water but that was sort of the point. Let her laugh. Let her tease him. Somehow, they had to find happiness again after all the darkness or they'd be lost.

Booker tried very hard not to get lost somewhere these people couldn't reach him.

[orgilotes]

Andy laughed,surprised when Booker twirled her around, toes dragging on the pool's bottom until she caught his rhythm, though the water swirling around her legs and hips didn't help her keep up. She loved being able to see Booker smile: his expressions were contagious more than anyone else's and Andy loved seeing it on his face.

"You remembertrying to teach me this the first time?" she asked, having settled into his arms.

[transfuge]

"You were without a doubt the most improper woman I had ever met," he teased gently. Though it was true. When they first met Andy was nothing like what he expected a woman to be or behave like.

In time, he had learned to appreciate that instead of being disgusted by it. He had done the same with Joe and Nicky. Booker had not been the best member when he first joined but he was also in not the best state of mind either.

"And for someone so graceful in battle you were not good at dancing."

[orgilotes]

"Still am," Andy laughed. She knew it, and didn't care: she'd seen the rules of society change with regards to women and had frankly ignored all of them. When they'd met Booker she'd had short hair, wore pants, drank and cursed and shot better (or worse) than most men.

He'd been appalled.

She had laughed, and they'd taken him with them anyway.

"In my defense I'd never had to dance. I had to learn to fight," she chuckled, wrapping her arms around Booker's shoulders and settling into just swaying and standing with him, cool water sparkling on their skin in the sunlight. "You got used to us eventually, though. For which I'm glad," she murmured, nuzzling at his collarbone.

[transfuge]

Booker leaned in and trailed a few kisses up her neck as they danced. "I learned to love you."

Love her. Love Joe. Love Nicky. They all took up space in his heart. Booker saw immortality as more of curse but these people were a blessing.

"And extract my own head out of my ass." It had only required them murder him three or four times because he had been such a prick. Booker wouldn't say he was a good man but he was better for knowing them and letting them teach him how to better.

[orgilotes]

Andy smiled, shaking her head with a hum and tilting her neck to give him room. "God, Nicky was so mad at you when you punched me," she chuckled, able to laugh at the memory now, though that fist to her cheekbone and nose had fucking hurt at the time.

They'd managed and gotten around it, the hurt and the anger, and now they were here. "We all learned to love you, too," she murmured with a soft smile only a little teasing around the edges. "Come here, and give me a proper kiss, then. Like a lady."

[transfuge]

"Yeah, I remember." Nicky had jumped to defend Andy which meant Booker had gotten a broadsword pointed at him, almost buried in his ribs. He could hardly be blamed for his confusion over meeting the people he dreamed about. It had been a crazy time in his life.

"You're still not a proper lady," he pointed out. Booker didn't intend to argue the request.

He leaned in and kissed her properly, a real kiss, a deep kiss full of his love for her.

[orgilotes]

"You like it," Andy managed, tone soft and amused before they met each other for a kiss. Booker was entirely unlike Nicky or Joe when he kissed; Booker was the only one Andy melted a little for, trusting her weight to him and letting herself get lost in it. People, if they'd have observed the group, might have thought that Joe was the only very passionate one among them with the way he could talk.

They would have been wrong.

She rose up on her toes to meet him, though she was tall for a woman and rarely needed to do more than that to be on a more equal footing with any of them: Booker was the tallest (of course he was) and so she had often let him either ift her, or bend down a bit to kiss her when they were together. The shift of her body was subtle, but said volumes in the way her biceps relaxed, her spine settled into a comfortable curve.

[transfuge]

It was more than that. Booker loved it. He loved her fierce and wild as she was. Andy would always have a special place in his heart.

The way she softened against him told Booker a lot about what she wanted from him. He was happy to give it. More than happy really. It had been awhile since he let any of them close like this. Just like he kept Nicky and Joe at a distance physically he had done the same with Andy.

He wasn't going to do that right now. Not when she melted against him, offering trust and love without reservation. It almost flipped a switch in his mind and body to please her. "Come on," he said against her mouth. "We'll have a much easier time on one of the lounge chairs."

Where there were soft cushions and space to really stretch out against each other. They might accidentally drown if they stayed in the water and while her towel was still spread out on the pool deck it wasn't as nice as a lounge chair.

[orgilotes]

Andy hummed against his mouth, pliant an willing--for Booker. She could trust he'd have her back, he'd pick her up and carry her if she couldn't move, and the way he loved her was no different. Normally she couldn't stand being pinned underneath anyone, and squirmed her way out from under the others with great regularity, but not him.

She didn't break from that kiss to reply, only shaking her head minutely. She didn't want it--or him--easier. There was too much time to make up for to have it easy and slow and sweet. That was for Joe and Nicky, who'd never separated, not for Booker and Andy who'd spent far too long holding back from each other.

"I missed you," she murmured again, voice soft but edged now, almost desperate as she pulled herself up on his shoulders, nuzzling into his cheek, his jaw, his throat. "I missed you so much, Booker."

CW: Sex ahoy!

[transfuge]

"I know. I'm sorry." Booker just got so lost in his own head, in his own grief, he couldn't be close with them for a long time. "I'm here now. I won't go far like that again."

Well, he'd try. Booker wasn't sure he could trust his own mind or heart on that one. He would give them all his best though and let them love him. He would let himself love them in return.

He pressed her against the side of the pool and nudged his thigh between her legs for her to grind against. His hand cupped her breast as he returned to kissing her over and over until his lips felt swollen from it.

[orgilotes]

She kissed him back like he was the only cure for the fever he was stirring up, legs parted around his thigh and holding tight to Booker from neck to knee, feeling the pulse in his fingers around her breast. Everywhere their bodies touched felt like a live wire, and she writhed between him and the rough edge of the pool wall, biting gently at his lips and letting out a soft groan as she locked her ankles around his leg.

"Don't be sorry now, Book," she managed through soft pants. "Don't be sorry."

[transfuge]

If only it was that easy for him to shed the guilt. It would linger no matter what she said or did. Booker would have to find forgiveness in himself for all the time he held himself apart from her. How had he forgotten how much he loved her? Loved them all?

"Yeah, okay. Yeah." He put a hand on the small of her back and helped guide her movements against his thigh. Booker wouldn't take control but god he was always willing to help.

It felt so good to touch her again. Her body against his stirred his need and want, his cock hard and flushed pressing against her hip. "God, Andy," he groaned as he pressed his forehead to hers.

[orgilotes]

"Nicky might skin us both if we don't get out," Andy laughed, breathless with her pulse running high and excitement thrumming under her skin to have him back, to hear the naked want in his voice that hadn't been there in years.

"I want you, Sebastien," she said softly, but she meant it: she would always say it, making sure and making herself known. Andy had little problem hiding her desires but they all too often went unspoken, though they were all familiar enough with how they said things to each other, even without words. She shifted to wrap her legs around his waist, feeling his cock press into her belly as she scattered kisses down his neck, over his shoulders, dipping her head for one at his heart.

[transfuge]

"Only because we didn't invite him to join us." Booker loved her laugh. It was a nice to hear and see how happy she was. There was a little swelling of pride in his chest. He could make her happy. He could make things better for Andy at the very least.

He pulled her away from the wall and towards the stairs leading out of the pool. Booker put an arm under his ass and hiked her up so that he had a better grip on her with her legs still around him. Carefully, he made his way out of the pool.

Nicky would definitely kill them if they slipped and fell getting out so they could have sex.

He carried her to the nearest lounge chair and lowered her onto it, bracketing her in. She didn't usually fight him but Booker made sure not to pin her down at first just in case.

[orgilotes]

She wouldn't fight him. Right now she wanted him over her, between her legs and as close as two bodies could get without bloodshed. She wanted to wrap her arms around Booker and hold him to her, and she wasn't letting go.

"Let him have his own turn," Andy tossed back, settling into the lounger and unwinding herself once she was sure he was settling in with her. Her legs wrapped around his hips, one of her hands on his shoulder as the other slid down his belly to wrap her fingers around his cock, gently stroking and tugging him closer. She tilted her head up for a soft kiss, pouring everything she couldn't say into it: it had been too long.