Tamsinglare, Tamsinarmfold
Dinah Lance blondecanary
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Dite's Suite, the Arms, Sunday
Tamsin yawned, rolled over, and smirked at the guy sleeping next to her. Hmmm. Wake him up for another round, or breakfast, and let him wake up on his own?

This vacation thing had its perks.

[for the guy in question]

Vacations were certainly great, weren't they?

Fortunately, there wasn't really much time to deliberate. Warren was a light sleeper at best, and Tamsin rolling over beside him was enough to get him to crack open one eye, turn a glance her way, and smile.

In the sleepy-fuzzed blur of his vision, for almost a moment, she was somebody else entirely. He wondered, momentarily, if he'd be able to keep her, but if time on the island was running short, that didn't seem to be in the cards.

"Well, good morning."

"Good morning to you too." Tamsin yawned extravagantly, and beamed back at him. "Food, or more entertainment?" Her fingers started walking up one bicep to his shoulder.

"We could combine the two," Warren suggested, clearly pleased with the way this morning was going already. "Order room service. See how many times I can make you cry out before our order arrives..."

Happy birthday to Warren, indeed.

You can't say Tamsin never got him anything. And that probably counted for Dinah, too.

"Hmmm. Or vice versa." She grinned, finger trailing down his jawline. "I do like that idea."

"I sometimes have ideas with merits to them," he shared, leaning his head sideways slightly, that smile still pulling at the corners of his mouth. "I have to say, I can't think of many ways I'd rather spend a morning. And last night certainly didn't disappoint."

He raised his own hand, letting his fingers twine gently through her hair.

"Mmmmmmm." Tamsin closed her eyes, humming in satisfaction. "You did make me re-think my stance on humans, I admit. Or maybe that's a mutant thing. Being able to keep up with me." She rubbed her thumb over his lower lip, and leaned in for a kiss. "And flying! That was amazing."

"I always forget that there are people out there who haven't flown," Warren murmured, leaning in and claiming that kiss - she didn't taste quite right, they never did - as his fingers knotted a little more firmly in her hair. Not enough to pull. Just enough to be noticeably there. "It's something that's so much a part of me... I've given up more than I'd care to admit, to be able to keep doing it."

"Like what?" Tamsin's smirk had melted into half-closed eyes; the tug on her hair didn't hurt. If it started to, she'd do something about it. "They're beautiful. So deadly..." A finger hovered over the edge of one feather, not quite close enough to prick her skin.

Which was for the best, really. They weren't just sharp, they were poisonous, and Warren had made certain to make that clear on more than one occasion throughout the night.

"I've never heard someone say that and mean it to be a compliment before," Warren admitted, his grip on her hair loosening a little as her words caught her off-guard and reminded him that she was, in no uncertain terms, not her. "I... could get used to that."

No, he hadn't answered her question. No, he wasn't about to.

"Mortals have a different view on danger than Fae do," Tamsin said obliquely, watching his face. "Especially the danger of dying."

She'd died so many times. Come back. She was hanging onto this lifetime with everything she had. But that didn't mean the same thing as it would to a human. "But how they can't see that you're exactly what you're supposed to be-- that, I don't get."

"They used to be harmless," Warren shared, after a moment of hesitation. "As harmless as any bird's wing might be, anyway. I could break a man's arm with one, easily enough. I could feel with them. Not just be aware of what they're interacting with, but really feel. These... they're a replacement. Anyone who knew me before doesn't see what they are. They see what they can't ever be again."

Tamsin's expression was softer now, but still not what anyone could call 'sweet.' Her fingers slid back to his chest, over his heart. "Losing a limb, losing two limbs, and still surviving-- that's a warrior's price. Finding a way to go on, to take back part of what you had-- who are they to judge you for that? Would they dare say a robotic leg was 'not as good'?" Her face grew colder for a moment. "You traded feeling for function. Softness for strength. Don't listen to anyone who says otherwise."

"A strength," Warren echoed, and then he was smiling. "I didn't lose my sky. I refused to lose my sky. What else do I have, if I give that up? No, these are everything I needed, and when I got them, I needed a weapon, too. I don't regret these wings at all."

"Good." Tamsin grinned, and leaned in for a kiss that was more like a bite. Then she whispered, "Swords are beautiful. Even when made out of the bones of birds."

"Much better a sword than a bird with broken wings," Warren agreed, knotting his hand in her hair again and holding her face close to his for that kiss. That bite. "I don't take to playing the victim well, these days."

"I wouldn't be here if you did." Tamsin's stomach growled, and she broke off the kiss with a groan. "Food. Or the biting will be much less fun."

Warren couldn't help but laugh at that. Well, if her stomach was going to be so insistent...

"Food," he agreed, reaching for the hotel suite phone. "Something we can whet our appetites with while we satisfy them all the same. Strawberries, perhaps..."

There was no reason why breakfast couldn't be fun.

Edited at 2013-04-29 12:31 am (UTC)

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