Arrant Nonsense

Without further ado, have a snippet:

The door slammed open, bouncing off the wall, and Perez stood there armed with a wicked-looking silver knife with a serrated blade. Ben's control, already shaky, slipped completely, and he found himself standing on the bed in wolf form. "Ben!" Ange's voice stayed his leap, but he crouched on the rumpled covers, snarling under her hand. She rolled her eyes. "For god's sake, Marco."

"One of the neighbors heard screams."

"So you thought you'd break in here, brandishing that pitifully inadequate weapon, and get yourself killed? Go home. Leave us alone. We're fine."

"Oh, yeah, he looks fine. Angel, you have to let me take him out of here before you get hurt."

"If you take him out of here before I'm ready for him to go, that will hurt me. Lie down, puppy." Ben flopped to his stomach and rested his chin on her knee, but his fur still bristled. "See? He's fine."

"He's wolfed."

"You startled the shit out of him after he came down from a flashback. Of course he's wolfed." Her hands never stopped stroking him. "And he's not gone to human because you've not put that silly little knife away and stopped bloody threatening him."

"Angel."

"Don't make me figure out how to do the invitation thing so it works on my space, Marco. He needs calm and quiet right now. You're providing neither."

Perez took a deep breath. "All right." He pointed at Ben with the knife. "You so much as scratch her, and you'll die slowly."

Ben lifted a lip over his teeth, and Ange rolled her eyes. "Aye, very manly posturing. Now get the hell out."

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My Writing Buddy last night.

And he says that, after Ben wakes up from being rescued from Prison Island...

I'm too easy on him.

He thinks that Ben should have a complete psychotic break.

And considering that this right here is the last thing Ben remembers:

"Can you put me to sleep, Ange?"

She caught the double meaning. And wondered. She'd never used the Thrall to make someone die before. Make them pliant while draining them, oh, aye, but never to actually kill them. Perez had confiscated her silver knife, and she was going to have words with him about Ben's treatment. "I can try."

"Ohfuck--" He strained against the straps, panting between clenched teeth. All she could do was grasp his hand while he rode it out. His grip was so weak--he should have been crushing her fingers, not barely holding on. "If I promised to be a good dog and not Change," he wheezed, when it was over, "do you think they'd take the damned wolfsbane off?" He coughed, and bright red blood flecked his lips.

"I'm sorry, puppy." She stroked his chest. "But, here, look at me. Let me see what I can do..."

He turned those blue, blue eyes to hers. Bruised from exhaustion, pain, and the beating, one of them with a burst capillary bleeding into the white, and she clenched her fist around her anger and made it work for her. Stroking him up and down with the backs of her fingers, from throat to navel, she whispered to him, "There you are. I love you."

He exhaled, hard. "I know."

Tears prickled her eyes. Steeling herself, she reached in and pulled, starting with the pain, sending it away into the ether. The fear went next. "Sleep, puppy."

His eyelids closed, and it was her turn to exhale hard as she caught an errant Love you too and then I'm sorry, Janni from his mind before it blanked out. Oh, god. She steeled her resolve. "Sleep for me and--" She choked. Never wake up were supposed to be the next words, but Perez slammed the door open. Not late, for once in his life. She cursed. Of all the shit timing--

So, Ben fully expects to wake up dead. To wake up on a luxury yacht in the arms of his wife? Yeah, he's so not going to believe what he's seeing...

And he doesn't, in my original version. But he goes with it because not doing so is almost unbearable. But my Writing Buddy is right. He needs to dive right back into don't-touch-me mode, because with all he's just been through, and the fact that his mind has been known to play nasty tricks on him before--

Yeah.

*evil laughter*

And the conversation with Chambliss is not the same one that he's having with everyone else. So. There's that. For those of you keeping score at home, Chambliss is Alex's butler, who has apparently done some...questionable...things, himself. They're on Alex's yacht not long after Ben's rescue from Vampire Prison, and Ben, unable to sleep, is on his fourth scotch in the kitchen.

And, go:

"With respect, Master Ben, from one military man to another--everyone breaks."

"The insurgents didn't break me. Not like this."

"But all they used was pain and fear. You fought against that because it's in your nature. Your defenses were up. Stoking the anger of people like us doesn't work." Chambliss tilted his head. "Had they been wise enough to send in a soft young woman to tend your wounds and hold you during your heroin withdrawal, the outcome might have been quite different."

"Lucky for me they didn't think of it, I guess. Pretty sure their mindset wouldn't let them operate that way. Put an unchaperoned woman in the same room with a filthy American who might ravage her at the least provocation?" Ben snorted. "Not likely."

"Especially if she painted herself as a fellow prisoner in need of succor. Ring any bells with your vampire lady?"

Ben put his chin in his hand. "Yeah, she was trapped there too. But she wasn't--"

"--trying to break you, no. But for a certain kind of man, sincerity is deadly."

"She accomplished in six weeks what Afghani insurgents couldn't do in seven months." His shaking hand rattled the bottle against his glass as he poured himself another. "I'd have died for her, Chambliss. Nearly did." A couple more swallows. "And I can't talk to Janni about this because I wouldn't even know where to start. And that feels like I'm keeping stuff from her, which feeds the guilt, and I'm in this fucking spiral of doom that's drowning me. And thus--" He set the empty glass down with a thump. "I drink. Sorry. Shouldn't saddle you with it, you've got more than enough to handle with Alex--"

"If I hadn't wanted to know," Chambliss said gently, "I wouldn't have asked. If I can ease your burden, then I'm satisfied that perhaps I've gone some way towards putting my own karma to rights. Somehow, it's always the things we do, rather than the things done to us, that weigh us down the most."

Had a productive meeting with my Writing Buddy last night, in which he suggested a conversation between Ben and Chambliss (Alex's butler--"the go-to guy when you want to hide a body," who has an arsenal in Alex's basement. He's mysterious and a little scary). And Ben's opening up to him a bit because, really, Chambliss is the only person he can really talk to about this stuff. He doesn't want Janni to know half of what he went through, and he doesn't want to burden anyone else with it either, not really. But with Chambliss being a retired military guy himself, he gets it.

And I've been debating with myself about posting something at difrancis's Snippet Sunday, when I'm going to be posting something tomorrow anyway. Should I post two snippets?

ETA: Annnnnd I posted a snippet because I'm weak. Weak, I tell you.

Since this seems to be the sort-of consensus based on my quick-and-dirty poll.

Setup: Ben made an escape attempt, which went, yeah, about as well as you'd expect. And now he's back in Ange's place, discussing it with her while he recovers. And this one is a bit lighter in tone than the relentless awfulness that Ben's life has been lately.

"I don't know whether to cheer that he got out or clock him upside the head for making it harder for me," Ben said.

"You'd not have cheered this one on, puppy. He was a piece of work who deserved every bit of what was dished to him."

"Who was he?"

She shrugged. "Don't know, he wasn't mine. Rutger somebody. A lot of things changed after him." She eyed Ben and said, "He cut a swath similar to the one I suspect you would, if you ever got the notion. Staked everyone who lived on his floor, and did it quiet enough that no one noticed until it was over and he was gone."

Ben gave her his best baby seal expression, which he knew didn't fool her for a second. "I wouldn't hurt anyone who didn't ask for it."

"I did notice that you considerately left me alive."

"You've been good to me. And I have a thing about beating up women. I try not to." His lips twisted. "Even when they're bigger and stronger than I am, and attacking me. But lying there, sleeping and defenseless like that? No way."

"Knew I read you right." She snorted softly. "Leaving me a note that said 'sorry.' Good god, Benji."

He shrugged. "Seemed crass to just go."

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[Poll #1437523]

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Won't be back until Sunday afternoon. And thus, I leave you with a snippet, since I won't be here on Friday. Does this need setup? Naaaaah...

"Why don't you tell me what happened, sweetie?" Janni stroked his back with the backs of her fingers.

"I had sex with a vampire. Initiated sex with a vampire. More than once." His voice was hoarse, and his arms hadn't moved from over his head. "That's not on the free list. Nor should it be. I'm married to the most wonderful understanding woman on the planet, and I blew it. Cracked under pressure. Apparently the only thing I can't take is the classic interrogation technique of 'let's be friends.' Because that's the one that broke me."

Her heart shattered for him. He'd undergone seven months of torture from Afghani insurgents, and hadn't come out of that feeling half as bad as he felt right now. "Oh, Ben."

He flinched away from her touch. "And, see, this is how I know you can't possibly be Janni. Because she'd have thrown me through a wall before now."

"Yes, clearly you need more trauma." She put her hand firmly on his shoulder. "You were raped in vampire prison, sweetie. I can't blame you for something that wasn't your fault."

"It wasn't rape. And I can't pretend it was to make myself feel better."

"With a power differential like that? It wasn't anything but rape, no matter how much you want to pretty it up."

"Ange wouldn't have hurt me. I told her no for...a long time. She could have forced me, put a Thrall on me and made me do it. Never did."

Janni wrapped her arms around him. "Well, no. She needed to win the game and that would have been cheating."

He huffed out a sound that was in no way a laugh. "She won, all right."

I less-than-three comments...

Yes, I know. I posted one on Friday already. But who am I to say no to the lovely and effulgent difrancis? So, mine's the third one down the page. But read the others too, because they're awesome.

And figured out the crux of Ben's guilt. *evil laughter* I mean, I knew, vaguely, what it was, but it's a whole lot more concrete now. Man, I can't wait to actually write this scene. But first, we're going to go see "G-Force" (shut up), and then we're going to buy "Coraline," "Watchmen," and S2 of "Pushing Daisies."

Speaking of scenes, it's Friday, and thus time for a Fiction Fragment! And, go:

Ben had finally gone to sleep, and Angeline sat on the bed beside him, petting his hair. A knock sounded on her door. "Come," she said tiredly.

Marco walked in. He shook his head when he saw Ben. "Angel, he's losing it."

She couldn't admit that. If she did, her puppy would be back on the table before she could blink. "He's fine, Marco. As fine as he ever gets anyway." She wished Ben would tell her what was wrong.

"I'm afraid he's going to hurt you."

"Och, he never would. Even when he wakes up disoriented from a nightmare, or he has a bad flashback, he's not violent with me."

"You're taking an awful chance. And I know you've got this odd idea that you love him and you're responsible for him somehow, but you're not." He laid a hand on her shoulder. "He's a wolf, Angel, not a cocker spaniel. Never forget that."

Ben twitched awake. "Don't touch her," he growled, his eyes flashing amber and his lips skinning back over fangs. Marco pulled away as if she'd burned him and took a step back, and Ben closed his eyes. "Sorry, man. It's a pack...thing."

Ben's arm started to go up to cover his head, but Angeline caught his hand and held it in her lap. "It's all right, Benji." He made a noise in his throat and buried his face in her leg. "You should go, Marco," she said.

"Just--be careful." He pursed his lips, shook his head, and walked out, closing the door softly behind him.

"What'd he want?" Ben asked without moving.

"He thinks you're losing it."

Ben huffed out a breath. "He's not wrong."

You know I love your comments...

That "Snippet Friday" doesn't have the same alliterative ring to it that "Snippet Saturday" does, but I'm wondering if people are missing the snippets because I'm posting them on Saturday afternoon. And in my quest to be a big ol' comment whore, I've decided to post tonight instead of waiting for tomorrow.

So, without further ado (or explanation of any kind):

"...this was not the best time in the world to relive that particular memory."

"Your subconscious is a mean bastard." She let go of his hands with one of hers and pushed his hair away from his face. "You can't save everyone, puppy."

He swallowed and closed his eyes. "Apparently I can't save anyone."

Her jaw tightened, and she made a decision. Grabbing his face, she kissed him, full on the mouth.

For the barest instant, he returned the kiss, but then his eyes snapped open, and he recoiled. "Ange?"

"You've saved me," she said fiercely.

Puzzlement raced across his face. "From what?"

She kissed him once more, on the forehead this time. "Myself, and a life of narcissistic selfishness." She trailed her lips down his face and captured his mouth.

He held himself very still, and when she stopped, he said, "Then what's this?"

"This isn't about me. This is about you and what you need."

He closed his eyes again, and that smile that wasn't one ghosted across his features, making her heart clutch in her chest. "You can't heal me with your vagina, Ange. I need years of therapy, not sex."

She pushed him to his back and draped herself on top of him. "I'm not a trained therapist. However, I've been told I'm quite good at sex."

He rolled them back to their sides and rested his forehead on hers. "And I'm sure you are. But cheating on my wife is not going to make me feel like a man again, or whatever effect you're going for. In fact, pretty much the opposite."

She cheered inwardly, because asserting himself was exactly what he needed, and she'd known he wouldn't take her come-on lying down (in a manner of speaking). More than one way to flay a feline.

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