Dinner with a Werewolf

[IamLEAM1983]

"We could always continue this tomorrow morning," he noted. "I tend to have more energy to spare for the violin early during the day, as it is," he explained, the sentence trailing into another stifled yawn. As before in the restaurant, he seemed to stretch himself as much as he could without moving a limb, his spine momentarily turning ramrod-straight. Then, with heavy eyelids, he returned the violin to its case and used the fire poker to push the hearth's logs apart. In starving the fire more effectively, he'd avoid uselessly heating a space that was about to be vacated.

By this time, Bagley had turned most of the Hall's light sources off. The large residence was plunged in the same kind of darkness he'd experienced the night before - inviting and familiar. He had enough space to turn the Hall into a barren, almost eerie space during the night, but it felt as though a sense of life and safety were glued to every inch of the floor and ceiling. Even Crystal, someone who'd only visited the Hall as a museum and not a private residence, would feel that these were hallways and doors she'd be able to peek through under the cover of complete darkness. Nothing unsavory had ever happened here, nothing tainted the Lord's tithe of land. Holden Hall had always been meant to be peaceful, a place where minds could recover and weary bodies, potentially recuperate. The candle Archie carried only furthered that impression, the thick shadows occasionally surrendering bits and pieces of tranquil clutter: an abandoned book here, one of the kids' clipboards or file folders there...

Upstairs, they made their way to Archie's room, opening the door to a warm and plush space in tones of green and copper. There were yet more potted ferns in sight, an ornate vanity made out of dark oak next to the door, and Archie's own fireplace. The walls were sparsely decorated with black-and-white photographs that seemed to stretch between the late eighteen-hundreds and World War One. Here, two boys of five or six years old, posing in front of a fountain. There, another shot of the boys, this time giving the camera an austere look as they posed in front of an equally austere stocky anthro mouse. There, a human Archie with a pith helmet and a Lee-Enfield rifle, posing next to an anthro tiger in similar garb. Bucky and Archie - now a Clank - in the African plains. Archie shaking Lincoln's hand. One half of his life, etched out in monochrome.

In practiced motions and immediately turning to monosyllabics as he passed the threshold, Archie began to remove his clothes. His room's own fireplace exuded enough heat to smother his already drowsy mind. In short order, and as if Crystal hadn't even been there, he'd changed into a decidedly antique men's nightgown, complete with a Dickens-worthy nightcap. He slipped in bed while producing wordless groans of sheer relief, and seemingly used the last embers of his stamina to creak his eyes open and fold the other half of the bed's covers out of the way.

"Will I be out of touch if I settle with offering you an arm and wishing you goodnight?" he asked. "I've had a... wonderful evening, thanks to you..."

This time, he let go of a full-fledged yawn. "In my days, a man who was happy with snuggling with the woman he was smitten with was a model of tenderness and patience. Nowadays, everyone sleeps with everyone else and it means nothing. Such a shame..."

[TennyoCeres84]

"Of course, Archie. I've had a wonderful evening as well, but your mere company is plenty. I certainly wouldn't expect you to sleep with me when you're this tired or on a first date," Crystal reassured, smirking. "Leave that for another time." The theriomorph's underwear was a standard beige bra and panties that contrasted with her brown skin. For a woman in her late 50s, she was in remarkable shape. Toned muscles blended with a healthy layer of fat over her physique. She neatly put her clothes aside and got in bed beside him.

[IamLEAM1983]

Despite his reticence at going further, Archie did find comfort in Crystal's presence. After all, the Victorian frigidity was typically limited to public displays. In private, Holden was free to display his musty, if earnest sensitivity. For now, he settled with slipping an arm around her waist, his mustache lightly brushing against the back of her neck. The thick covers and fireplace kept his metallic parts warm, while his slumbering mind maintained his limbs within the expected human limits of unconscious tenderness. If anything, the only starkly different aspect from sleeping with a living man was Archie's ticking turn-crank mechanism and the low whisper of his abdominal bellows. He otherwise produced the slightly tinny version of a human male's soft snores, even going so far as to smack his lips together on occasion.

In today's world, finding long-lasting comfort in someone else was a rare event. In the spy's time, extraordinarily resonant friendships had been preferable to short and vacuous displays of passion. Few people had ever been allowed to see the Clank in a position of physical weakness, and Crystal was one of the lucky few. She could've turned around and forced his turn-key in the opposite direction, broken off its delicate branches and keyblades. She could've removed one of his eyeball covers and destroyed his ocular arrays with a few delicate presses of her thumbs. She could've jammed any blade between his sternum's plates and paralyzed him.

Archie trusted her not to do it. He trusted her with his life. Sleeping with her was, for him, more significant than any time spent tumbling under the covers.

* * *

Having slept better than he'd ever had in recent memory, Archie woke up first. Crystal had turned around in her sleep, giving him ample time to stare at her resting features. It'd been a long time since he'd had reason enough to stay in bed, to contemplate the morning's quiet hours.

"Amazon," he said, whispering softly, "both wolf and rider, carrying the sword of Justice... This glorified dagger-wielder loves you."

[TennyoCeres84]

Crystal would sleep a little while longer before her eyes creaked open. She blinked blearily, rubbing one of her eyes. "Good morning, Archie," she murmured, looking over at him. While still laying on her back, she stretched her arms over her head and laid them on her stomach. Her dark hair looked slightly frizzy from moving her head against the pillow, but running her fingers through her hair would probably tame it down some.

[IamLEAM1983]

With nightcap and nightgown still on, the Clank looked like Scrooge following his tribulations on Christmas. He wasn't quite so energetic, however; having instead chosen to stay in bed next to her. He didn't seem to care about or notice how slightly ridiculous his cap's floppy end was. As during the previous evening, looking at her seemed to suffuse his features with an extra dose of humanity, the painted irises almost gleaming like real eyeballs in the rising sun.

"Good morning, Crystal," he replied, the three little words carrying all of yesterday's shared secrets. He tried to scoot closer to her, only to realize that his movements were sluggish after a full nine hours spent without tightening his main spring. Muttering apologies, he tried to pull the neckline of his nightgown down to expose his chest, but his fingers felt uncomfortably numb. Inertia was slowly creeping in, killing his life-preserving motion. He wasn't concerned, however, as only his hands felt somewhat off. He had about ten minutes or so before the sensation spread further.

Still, he didn't feel like prolonging anything that might prove to be a hindrance for his guest - but he needed help. Turning on his back, he kept his eyes on her. "I'm terribly sorry," he said, chuckling a bit, "but I seem to be running out of kinetic force... My hands have gone numb, so I cannot grasp my turn-key's handle effectively or pull down my neckline."

He gestured powerlessly, smirking a bit as he did. "Would you mind helping me? You would only need to pull my shirt's neckline down a little, to expose my right breast. Then, it is only the matter of turning my main spring's mechanism clockwise, until some resistance sets in. You could add a few revolutions past this point, but I doubt you would expect me to leap and bound around with you. Just - do not strain too much, you could run the risk of breaking the key's main branch. I am running out of duplicates for it..."

[TennyoCeres84]

"Of course," the werewolf answered. She leaned over, pulled his nightshirt downward somewhat, and gently turned the key clockwise a number of time until she felt the resistance. Once past that, she wound a few more times, being ever so careful with the delicate item.

[IamLEAM1983]

Once she let go, Archie's soft ticking could be heard resuming at a fairly faster pace. He closed his eyes and sighed, then flinched as sensation returned to his hands. "Bloody pinpricks," he muttered, a smirk still clinging to his face, "it feels as though you've unleashed a colony of ants on my hands..."

Still, something overtook him. As she was atop him, he pulled his own head upwards, his nightcap falling off, and kissed her. A hand came up and pressed against the top of her back, gently pinning her in place. He gently pushed on, to the point where Crystal would feel something overlap the sensation of his mouth's inner felt lining. His soul was pressing against his mouth's mechanical confines, like a lich would sometimes suggest the contours of its former facial features. Felt and copper would fade from her tastebuds almost immediately, the phantom moisture of a suggested human tongue, sharp and brief human warmth pressing against her tongue and teeth. For a brief moment, Archie's lips didn't carry the taste of painted-over verdigris, instead feeling to her own lips as if they'd been flush with warmth.

[TennyoCeres84]

Smiling at him after his comment, Crystal was slightly taken aback when he kissed her. Still, she returned the gesture. It was slightly odd, tasting the metal and fabric switch with that of a warm human tongue. However, the sensation was quite pleasant. Archie would feel the slightly rougher texture of her tongue and the associated tastes that went with it. Given that he was holding her in place, the scantily clad theriomorph rested against his chest while continuing the liplock. In response, the lord would feel and hear a low rumbling growl within the deputy chief's throat, as though he were causing her inner predator to stir.

[IamLEAM1983]

Pulling away from her mouth with a short gasp, Archie rested his forehead against hers. "Yes," he whispered, "I want this. God strike me down, I want this..."

He kissed her again, this time with more urgency, only to look off to his bedside table's clock. "Oh, but we can't. We shouldn't, it wouldn't be... very professional of us, being late... We should wait a month, for good form. Six, perhaps, to ease the youngsters in. And Andrea - Oh, poor Andrea... We should-"

He dove in once again. "Oh, sod it-!"

Unlike what had happened with Nereus and Meris, centuries ago, Archie had charted those waters before. He managed to pack the kind of lovelorn impatience you'd have chalked up to his having been mired in celibacy after a calcified and unfulfilling relationship; while still presenting all the attributes of someone who had some self-control in the matter. Crystal's wolf half was a new variable for him to consider, but her human aspect seemed fairly easy for him to decode - without mentioning how his appetites seemed more emotional than carnal for the moment. His ticking was on overdrive, his anatomy a constant clatter of desire, but he seemed more interested in exploring her top half for the time being. Her arms were kneaded by his fingers, her curves teased by his nose. His aroused soul left hot kisses along her sternum, the felt of his tongue leaving the ghost of his saliva along the curve of her neck. Warmth that wasn't really there left his mouth and brushed against her skin, while chancing a look at the spy's face would have revealed a blue-white and lambent glow about it, the spaces between his facial plates filled in with glowing ghostly flesh. Gooseflesh had impossibly teased the edges of his wire-mesh mustache, while Crystal would later be able to swear that she'd seen his irises dilate and shrink, the painted-on reflections moving and shifting.

Aglow with desire, Holden was pushing his armature's realism levels as far as his own soul's supernatural nature would allow him to.

[TennyoCeres84]

Crystal desired this, too. It has been a number of years since she had divorced from Luke, and she dated a few times that went nowhere. Between work and looking after Andrea, her romantic life had fallen by the wayside. She now laid against the bed, savoring the attention given by the spy. She understood it had been even longer for Holden since his failed relationship with Sasha Gray. This side of him excited her; the side that threw caution to the wind, for once. The werewolf relished the sensations of his phantom tongue and remained receptive to it; however, the wolf inside of her wanted to pounce and please him with her own administrations. Her previous lovers had never been this intense or affectionate. He was feeding her hunger for her carnal needs, as well as emotional bonds. Shuddering, she thought let out the occasional, lusty moan or growl.

If wild wolves mated for life, unless one of the partners died, she felt like he might be the one she wanted to run with for the rest of her life. Right now, she didn't care about professional etiquette or propriety. She needed this so very, very much.