For Ellie101.
By Chloe.
Jenny was the carrot.
Metaphorically speaking, naturally, but in essence she was indeed the carrot.
Being dangled on the end of a stick as a tasty treat.
It had been Michael's suggestion, more of a passing comment really, but Jenny had seized upon it instantly.
A convenient persuasion to entice Julian to come within striking distance of the new weapon they had discovered.
The others had been reluctant of course, even more so when Jenny firmly told them they that would have to leave her alone; Julian would never make an appearance if there were a suspicious looking audience waiting to pounce from behind her bedroom door.
And so she was lying in the dark, willing herself to stay quite still, regulating her breathing into deep convincing intakes and exhalations, slow, relaxed.
I am asleep. She willed the thought into the ether, begging Julian to believe the façade.
Her fingers tightened around the cold blade in her right hand and she nestled herself into a more comfortable position in the bed. She was stretched out on her right side, the weapon carefully concealed in the nest of blankets.
Jenny almost felt like it was a normal night in her old life, before she had encountered Julian, when she could sleep believing that the feeling of being watched was only in her imagination.
But now she knew only too well that there really was someone out there and although her exposed back felt terribly vulnerable and the empty room behind her seemed menacing, she was slightly comforted by the thought that she was never truly alone.
Her thoughts were muddling together with the threat of real approaching sleep when she finally felt the air displace in the dark room behind her, as if a shadow were gathering itself.
He never actually made a sound, but it was like the high-pitched whine of a television set being turned on, his presence changed the atmosphere and she was certain that she was no longer alone in the room.
Mind clarified, she quickly set about maintaining her breathing, the whole plan depended on her playing a convincing role. She needed Julian to come close enough so that she could hurt him, she didn't want to think about blades penetrating skin, even if it was Julian, she only hoped that she would have the nerve to act when the time came.
Straining to listen to the silence was making her ears ring and she was beginning to doubt her initial conviction that he was here, when cool fingers traced the arch of her neck and her lips involuntarily parted slightly.
The mattress springs groaned as his weight was distributed evenly, he had laid out behind her, his chest resting feather light against her spine. Jenny's concentration began to lapse as his hands traced down her side, skimming her bare stomach and running back over her thighs. His breath warming the nape of her neck, lips pulling ever so slightly at the sensitive skin and her breathing pattern broke, speeding up to match his.
Oh. This wasn't the plan. She could never tell them. Dee. Aubrey and the others, they wouldn't understand, they would be disgusted.
She almost couldn't admit the secret thoughts to herself, but there they were, there they had always been, since she had first met him. She didn't want him to stop; on the contrary she doubted she could have moved to strike him even if she had wanted to.
A static warmness had begun in the soles of her feet and the curve of her stomach, a prickle that she had previously associated with apprehension of what manipulation he would pull on them next.
Almost before the thought had finished forming Julian was gone, her back cold suddenly as he pulled away.
It was all Jenny could do to stop herself from actually hissing aloud; instead she threw her body to the left, furious at herself and him. Her pupils adjusted to the darkness and two blue eyes flashed back at her. Julian had never left the bed. He was leaning on his elbow casually, an amused eyebrow raised tauntingly at her. It took her a second to move when she realised he had know all along she was awake; he had been playing with her.
Jenny had never pinned anyone in her life, and she wasn't even certain that she had intended this when she had leapt, but here she was and there was Julian, lying placidly beneath her as if it had been him who had suggested the position.
Although she was waiting for the usual fear that accompanied his presence to rush in at any moment, all she felt was a growing sense of power.
Seeing Julian's pale waist caught between her knees, his black shirt hitched up, the rune-inscribed dagger clutched in her right hand.
Julian never even looked at the blade as she lowered it into the v of his neck. His eyes remained on hers, daring her. He doesn't think I can do it. Her anger at being tricked, and now that he thought her so weak spurred her to nudge the knife almost as gently as he liked to kiss her.
The light that seeped through the sheer curtains above the bed was like the pale twilight of a child's storybook, and the blood looked black, like a drop of oil resting on his alabaster skin.
He hadn't even made a sound, just continued staring at her as if she were some amusing small animal in a petting zoo that thought it was defending its territory, but succeeded only in looking cute.
As the silence stretched she became increasingly aware of her skin against his. Where her knees clasped his hips, the inside of her thighs on his lower stomach, gently rising and falling with each breath.
Now that she was here she felt her certainty ebb away and she was sure that Julian could have pointed out the precise second where she lost the upper hand. If she had ever had it.
Frustration seared inside her. She despised him for being able to play her like this, it had been a good plan and he had sauntered in and seen through it before she even had a chance.
"You knew it wouldn't work."
She felt the statement as well as hearing it, the vibrations of his voice reverberating through his chest and into her legs.
"Don't be ridiculous. It would have worked if you weren't such a smug know-it-all bastard. And why would I have gone ahead with it if I knew it wouldn't work?" Jenny glared down at him, wishing that she could squeeze the haughty smirk off his face. She clenched her legs a little harder and felt his ribs grind satisfyingly against her knees.
Julian showed no signs of pain, in fact if she admitted it to herself she could have sworn that his eyelids had drooped a little as if he were about to kiss her. "You knew." He repeated, his voice like gravel as she frowned harder.
"Perhaps you did believe it could work, but underneath you knew there was no way that you could fool me, slip a little thing like this-" Before she could react he had snatched the dagger from her hand and whipped it round to rest at the top of her sternum, "past my all seeing eyes."
Jenny's breath caught in her throat as she felt the sharp point through her nightshirt. Images of the blade sliding into her skin like butter, wounds gaping, organs being pierced flashed through her mind. She fought to remain calm, he would never stab her, and her eyes never left his.
"I suppose you were going to stab me with this. Imprison my soul forever in Muspelheim. Why else would you have a stone dagger with such a crudely designed Kenaz rune on it?"
Jenny said nothing, her insolent gaze unbroken as he made their ingenious plan sound like some sort of childish game.
Julian didn't seem to care that she wasn't confirming his words, he had seen everything, she was sure, he didn't need her to tell him he was right.
"Sending little Michael away to have it made in a role playing weapons shop. Very clever. Your only fault was thinking that I wouldn't be watching all of you to make sure you weren't scheming like busy little, plotting beavers."
An overwhelming urge to clap washed over Jenny, well done Mr Holmes, your detective skills are quite outstanding.
"You think you're so superior, with your omnipresence, and yet you're obsessed with honour and playing by the rules. Don't think you have an unfair advantage, being able to see everything that us mere mortals do?" The last words she almost spat out, the sarcasm apparent in every word and more so in the sneer that her mouth had twisted into.
Julian gave the slightest of shrugs, "Don't blame me for being made so much better than you." He said, and laughed maliciously, eyes closed. Jenny had been waiting for him to make a mistake of his own and now he made two, before his laugh could taper off she wrenched the dagger from him. He thought he knew her so well, that she was so predictable.
You got complacent she thought smugly and slammed the dagger into the smooth skin above his navel with all the force she could muster. She fell forward as the blade sank in without resistance and his eyes flared wide with shock, barely inches from her own as she lay atop him.
This close and she could make out miniature brush strokes of a slightly darker blue in his irises, she could count every dark eyelash, follow the curve of his eyebrows, marvel at the impossible smoothness of his skin, the way his colourless hair fell across his forehead a little and then he kissed her.
It wasn't the soft, melting kisses she was used to; it was urgent and full of raw, unabashed need. Her lips responded automatically and she felt his fingers slide into her hair; the daggers rough handle protruding from his abdomen hard against her chest, but she pushed against him as if there was no obstruction.
"Did I hurt you?" She gasped finally as he broke away from her, looking, if possible, paler than usual, but unbelievably still wearing that devil may care grin.
Jenny pulled away from him gently, not wanting to jolt the dagger further and watched as he reached tentatively for it and wrenched it free of his skin. The blade was blood-free, the wound in his stomach disappearing before her eyes and she let out a small, barely concealed sigh of relief.
"You really put it in hard this time, my love." He said in a scolding voice, as if she were a naughty child. Jenny bit nervously on her bottom lip, a habit she had grown out of many years ago, but which made an appearance occasionally.
"You know what that means." He continued, not really asking her as he examined the dagger in his hand. Jenny made to scramble off of him, but his free hand was already grasping her shoulder and spinning her away and down onto the empty space where she had pretended to be asleep.
She lay quite still as he took the familiar poise above her, his weight resting comfortably on her lower stomach. He lowered the knife and planted a few, coy kisses along her collarbone before drawing himself back to his former sitting position, "Your turn."
Jenny's lips tugged into an irrepressible smile.
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