Thanks so much Jan for being my beta with that story.
Name of the story: Maserengeo
Pairing: Alexandra Eames/Robert Goren
Word count: 3985
Rating and warnings: M
Description: Alex finds herself in a different time and space. Is it real or a dream? Alex POV.
For the Halloween Fic-A-Thon of the LJ: ci_fans_united community.
I tried a combination of the Victorian time and 4 x 08 Silver Lining.
Disclaimer: I earn no money from this thing, nor do I profit in any other way from it. Involved persons are only borrowed and always go back to their owner.
Dedicated to anguis
“Is it the last interview today?” I asked Bobby, as we walked toward a really beautiful, bourgeois city mansion. Three children passed our way, all in costumes. There was a vampire, a witch and a skeleton. They all had an orange pumpkin under their arms for the sweets-yield. I smiled. Tonight was Halloween, one of the four esbats.
As we climbed up the five stairs to the entrance, we noted a creepy laughter from somewhere.
“Yes the last,” Bobby nodded, and rubbed his shaved chin. He was as tired as I was and I had heard his rumbling stomach twice in the SUV.
I took the knocker and banged it against the heavy oaked front door, an echo. While we waited, I checked the nameplate: MASERENGEO. I frowned; that was not the name on our list but it sounded familiar. I hadn’t gotten it when a butler in an old livery attended to the door and took my whole attention. He let us inside.
Bobby and I entered the huge hall through a screening smoke as we passed the double door together.
“Lady Alexandra, Lord Maserengeo, welcome home.” The little man made a bow and handed Bobby a few letters on a silver tray. “The post, sir.”
Perplexed, Bobby grasped for the envelopes and tried to look into my eyes. However I was too shocked with the reflection of a colossal mirror in a golden frame revealed me.
There I stood next to Bobby. My leather jacket was gone and I wore a dark green Victorian dress made of taffeta. It had a nice neckline, narrow sleeves to the elbow where they widened into, bell-shaped. I couldn’t breathe that well and feeling for my tight waist, made it clear to me that I wore a corset below the many shimmering fabric layers of the dress. My butt was the best, though. There was so much material draped around that it was twice as much than usual. On my head sat a tiny hat and my golden hair was curled in corkscrew curls.
My eyes grew bigger and bigger when I looked at Bobby. He also wore different clothes when we stood before that cryptic door. Now his pepper and salt sideburns ended in a whisker. There was a grey bowler on his head and he also wore a Victorian suit. Furthermore he was wrapped in a plaid cape – Sherlock Holmes came to my mind.
“What’s going on here?” I asked nearly hysterically, and tried to turn the doorknob. It was locked; the door didn’t move one inch. I removed my hands so Bobby could joggles at the door with more power, but we were caught. The odd smiling butler wasn’t responsive.
A young woman in a black dress, a big white apron and lace bonnet entered the hall. “Lady Alexandra, the supper is ready in a few minutes. Should I help you with freshen up?” she asked politely, but pulled me determinedly up the stairs, away from Bobby.
In the next moment I found myself in a big but cosy room – my bed-chamber. The commanding colour was green: paperhangings, curtains and the counterpane over a giant four-poster bed. There were a few crimson coloured highlights and everything mixed with old and beautiful furniture. I liked green, my favoured colour, but I didn’t know if I would be so bold to decorate my bedroom that way.
Mary placed me onto a filigree iron chair in front of a cherry-wood dressing commode with an antic mirror. Mary? I never saw that woman before but I was certain to one hundred percent that her name was Mary.
She wrested the long and sharp hatpins from my hairdo and arranged my hair anew.
“Thanks Mary, I think the rest I can do alone,” I said, and Mary curtsied again before she left the room. I removed from my black crochet gloves and stared in the mirror. It was really I – in a perfect Victorian costume. I felt for my hair, my forehead. My fingertips glided over my cheekbones, traced my lips contours and ran to my throat. I freed myself from the close chocker and massaged my neck.
That wasn’t the reality, but the antique dresser was the same I had in my bedroom given to me by my grandmother. I opened the small drawer and saw a lot of jewels in a case. I rummaged in it and was magically attracted by a beautiful necklace made of Sterling silver and with three big emeralds. The fitting earrings lay beside. I moved my locks behind my ears – no holes. The drop-shaped emeralds are clips. I put them on and closed the necklet.
Before I left ‘my’ room, I saw an overwhelming silver bracelet on the night stand. My father’s mother had the same one. I pined for it since my two month ‘princess-phase’ I had had as I was nine. I seized carefully for it – the whole time anxiously that my grandma would come in telling me off. I turned it around and found an engraving, which let my whole body shudder:
1st Oct. ~ Robert and Alexandra forever ~ 1897
I knew that Bobby loved October and the changing from summer to fall – Indian Summer. Was that our wedding day? No, we were just friend, we were partner - working partner in 2004.
Nausea hit me and a too real déjà vu. I saw me in a white dress – ivy in my hair, a lavender bouquet: the assessors of a traditional Irish bride. Next to me stood Bobby: bells, pigeons and flying rice – he bended down and kissed me…mmmh, sweet and spicy at the same time.
The pictures in my head and the taste on my lips were away as quick as they had come. I agitated, rubbed again my face and went down over the huge cantilever staircase into an exclusive little blue parlour on the left hand side, around my left wrist the silver masterpiece.
There I came across with Bobby reading the newspaper. The bowler was away and also the cape but he was still in his costume – the perfect Victorian three-piece suit. As he noticed me, he stood up and walked toward me.
He reached out for me and took my hand. An electric shock hit me. It was thrilling, cool and afire at the same time – my skin prickled where Bobby fingered me. We touched each other not often, but now I really needed that contact. It showed us that we were real – that this unreal place was the true, but we were together.
“All entry doors I could find are locked, the windows as well,” Bobby whispered quietly.
We looked outside. There are a few carriages on the gas lantern illuminated streets with cobblestone and more people in old dresses and suits.
“And the date on the newspaper announced 31th October, 1898.”
“The day fits but the year. That is over one hundred...”
“One hundred and six years, right.”
“Lord and Lady Maserengeo, dinner is served.”
We didn’t react, observed furthermore the street and the odd ado.
“Lady Alexandra, Sir Robert…?”
“Yes James, thanks,” Bobby replied as a matter of course.
I looked up to Bobby. “James?” forming with my lips. Bobby frowned and gave a shrug. He escorted me still holding hands into the dining room to my seat – the one in front of the fireplace – and shifted the chair for me. Bobby breathed a light peek into my palm and a second on my cheek. My breath caught. He noticed my necklace. His pupils grew wider and he had a twinkle in his eyes. Bobby remembered something. He straightens up again and then he moved around the long table and sat down for himself. I didn’t know from where I knew, but I knew, I always sat by the fire and Bobby by the window.
The supper was very British. As dessert Bobby and me was presented a plum pudding. We ate it with zodiac spoons – Austrian coinage. Reality and illusion mixed in a curious way. Again, on that cutlery MASERENGEO was engraved into the spoon-handle. I ran my fingertips over the lettering.
Maserengeo, Maserengeo, Maserengeo…what was that about?
“It’s an anagram,” I shouted out loud.
“What, my darling?” Bobby said with an Oxford accent, looking up with clouded eyes and dabbing his mouth with a cream white table napkin.
I blinked two times, did I really heard right?
“Alex, what’s an anagram?” he asked once more but back with his Brooklyn voice. His eyes were clear again.
“Maserengeo, it’s a mix of Goren and Eames.” Bobby closed his eyes and I saw his lips forming every character – to make it visible, like he had explained me one day.
“Are you done with dinner, sir?” James asked, as he entered the dining room again, deleting our togetherness.
“Yes we are,” Bobby answered, as a church clock stroked eight o’clock.
“Is that Big Ben?” he asked excited.
“Are we in London?” I tried to say and nearly choked.
“Yes, Ma’am, at Westminster, Queen Anne’s Gate,” the butler answered with amused face.
I stood up and walked around the table. Bobby’s eyes met mine and I saw a considerate gaze into his eyes. I knew it was produced because my face must show the shock I felt. I scanned restlessly once more the street. But the soft light of the gas lantern didn’t present much.
“Sir, do you require your pipe in the smoking salon?”
“Of course James, like every night,” Bobby replied. He moved behind me, close – very close. I could feel his long frame at my back. His arms reached around my body. His right hand caressed feather-lightly my belly and his left hand stroked slowly over the emeralds of my necklacenestled in the hollow of my throat. Bobby turned me around, looked deep in my eyes and winked conspiratorially.
“See you then, Alexandra!” he said sensually, and I could see desire – desire of me in his deep brown eyes.
He followed James and let me alone. I tumbled from one shock to another. Why did Bobby act that way? He never touched me at these regions of my body. He never had checked out me that way – he never had made me to a sexual object. We always had been professional.
There was a remembrance, but I couldn’t catch it.
Still confused, Mary escorted me in the blue parlour. We talked about the next day and her duties. I couldn’t really concentrate and just nodded to her explanations. As she let me alone, I tried to open the front door once more, it still didn’t move. I also read the newspaper with the odd date and got tired. By my second deep yawing Mary stood again in the blue room and asked if it was time for going to bed. I agreed.
“Do you need help with undressing, Lady Alexandra?”
“Definitely,” I replied, and Mary brought me to my room. There I opened the several hooks and eyes of my dress and Mary pulled it from my body. As she opened the bandages of the corset, I laid off the jewellery.
“Hhhha,” I sighed relieved, as I got normally breath again. “Dear, how could I wear that instrument of torture one more time?” I murmured to myself, and rubbed my belly. I sat down and tried to straighten my hair with a tortoiseshell brush. Nevertheless the corkscrew curls were more stubborn than I thought.
At the same time Mary unfolded my bed. She removed the counterpane and fluffed the pillows. As last duty she laid out my nightgown and hung aside the green dress.
“What do you think about the yellow dress for tomorrow?”
“Yellow?” I asked, and think: Jeans and tee, please but I responded: “Maybe.”
“Good night Lady Alexandra.”
“Good night, Mary,” I replied, and could see her leering what she didn’t hide quickly enough.
I starred behind her, but she closed very fast the door to my room. I hadn’t the chance to challenge her facial expression. So I was alone and removed from the knee-long chemise and drawers.
I looked down my body. It looked equally like this morning as I dressed in black jeans and a warm grey cargo sweatshirt. Even the slight red mark on my knee was on its place. I had wounded myself under the shower with my lady shaver in the morning. Beside the hollows in my ears, they were missing.
I shivered slightly. Therefore I pulled the huge but very soft cotton nightgown over my trembling body. It reached ‘till my ankles and the neckline was that wide that always one shoulder was bare. Also the fillet at the collar wasn’t helpful. I went over to the French window and looked outside. I saw a midget balcony just for one person. I love these French versions but Bobby had been right. The door was locked.
A light smoke odour hit my nose. It was the same aroma my uncle Ted always preferred in his pipe. I turned around and saw Bobby. I didn’t hear him coming in. He was out of his suit, now he wore a checked silk dressing gown.
“Hey, ready for bed? I hope your bed looks as equally comfortable as mine,” I said, and loosened the bracelet from my wrist to lay it onto the dresser.
“Ready for us,” Bobby replied mysteriously, and showed again that weird mine. His eyes were so dark, deep and full of desire and his rose tongue licks slowly his lips.
“What do you want Bobby?” I asked a bit nervous.
“My martial rights,” he responded.
“Alexandra, you know exactly you invited me,” he said, and ran his index finger along my throat to the gap between my breasts, followed the way of the not more available necklace.
“W...what – w...when and please be serious?” I stuttered, and stopped his flying and naughty fingers.
“Alexandra, you wore the emerald collier I gave you at our engagement. When you always wear it, you want that we spend the night together and celebrate our relatedness,” he whispered in my ear and twisted one curled wisp of my hair around his long index finger, sniffed it.
I laughed, but Bobby’s mouth got closer and closer. He brushed his lips against my earlobe and then ran them to my mouth. He kissed me intimately and deeply. His tongue didn’t ask for entrance, it took its right and sucked mine hard. I responded in equally common swirling and dancing. That kissing was so familiar and well-know. Even Joe and I had kissed that way after one year being a couple.
As air was necessary again, we broke apart. But Bobby’s lips were again on collision course. He kissed my bare shoulders, my exposed throat and even deeper the beginning of my breasts. His desire gave me creeps and my breathing didn’t calm down again. I fumbled at his lox robe belt and shoved the soft fabric over his strong shoulders. Under it he was naked beside the white long johns. His chest was broad and fine hair covered it. I knew that I had kissed him thousand times. Our wedding day was October the first. How could I miss that?
I had been horny the whole day and had donned the emeralds because my husband should practise his rights and fulfilled my needs. He wrapped me into his strong and athletic arms and hustled me to my bed.
“Robert, please love me,” I panted, lying now on my back. My husband hovered over me and left hickeys on the white skin of my cleavage. The yellow dress with the plugging neckline was impossible for tomorrow. Everyone would see what we did this night.
As I opened my lids again, I met my partner’s deep brown eyes. He sank down his amazed face as carefully as possible. His mouth brushed gently against mine. His lips explored mine curiously. The kiss was innocent and new. He coasted tenderly the contour of my mouth and as I opened it and our tongues met the first time or the thousands he gasped deeper and more passionate as I ever had heard him before and my heart was in my mouth – dear Bobby’s tongue was in my mouth.
Robert dragged down rashly his underpants until his knees and pushed up skilled my nightdress over my abdomen.
His slowly moving hands up my inner thighs let me part my knees and Robert conquered me affectionately. He hadn’t felt if I was ready for his entrance, he knew I was. I had been always when we unified in love. Jeez, how gently he was, my husband. He always worshiped the ground I walked. He had been never rude during our bed games and always had found the right tempo I needed.
We entangled our fingers and Robert thrust inside me very slow, pining slowly tonight. I remembered our wedding night – no our pre wedding night. I smirked and groaned at the same moment, because now he found the spot. I couldn’t explain, but always when he had pushed again that little throbbing area inside me I’d felt good, very good.
In the night before Robert and I had married. I’d stolen off and we had met in an old ruin on the estate of my parents. We had kissed the half night and I’d asked Robert with swollen lips to celebrate our espousal one night earlier. I didn’t want to sample my first time with all the female members of my family in front of the door. Robert had agreed hesitantly and delighted and had been the perfect gentleman. There had been no pains in that night – only trust and of course lust.
I really could remember that night. I could conjure the feelings, the taste and smell of our interwoven bodies and souls. I also knew that this was Bobby over me, doing things partners shouldn’t do with each other. Yet he did it so well that I asked myself why we hadn’t done it much earlier.
He kissed my cleavage and moved deeper to my shined through pink areolas. He opened his lips and sucked my quivering tips through the thin material of my nightgown. It turned me on but I wanted more. My mind screamed ‘dear Bobby, do it right’ and my body took control. I rolled around with him.
My eyes twisted as I sank down Bobby’s wonderful long magic wand, straddling him.
“Holy shit,” I nearly choked at my lust. Bobby felt so phenomenal inside me, as he had been created just for me and my body. I moved up and down my lover passionately.
“Good, so good.”
The nightie glided over both of my shoulders and exposed my perky breasts with the quivering tips.
Bobby’s eyes grew bigger as his gaze fell on them. He panted: “Jeez, Alex…l…like it?”
His tenderly kneading palms were removed by his greedy lips and swirling tongue. I was just a few pushes and licks before paradise. My inner started to contract. That was Bobby’s sign to sit up, too.
“Oh, I feel how much you like it,” he gasped into my ear. Bobby enclosed me with his long arms and held me tight while endless waves full of pleasure rippled through my body.
I rode through the last billows of my orgasm as Bobby’s body exploded. I’ll never forget his perplexed but lucky face.
“Oh Alex,” he groaned raspy. It came deep from his throat. I never had heard him speaking in that pitch.
“I didn’t know that I married such a wildcat,” Robert muffled in the soft curve of my neck. We rested naked side by side after our lovemaking. After our climaxes we had thrown away our night dresses to enjoy the heat of our entangled bodies. I kissed his bare chest and he stroked lazy circles on the burning skin of the small of my back.
“Uhm…” I blushed. Why did I feel a bit bashfully? The sex hadn’t been that remarkable. I have had much more dirtier sex in my life.
Running his fingertips up and down my spine tickling me, Robert teased: “You didn’t exercise privily with the stable-lad, did you?”
“Oh no, I’ve still access to my own riding master at any time,” I purred sensually.
“Oh-ho Eames, than turn around and I’ll show you which gait I prefer.”
“No problem, Goren…” I laughed, and laid my palm over his groin. “…but I think we have to wait a little longer.”
I turned on my side and pressed my back and butt against Bobby’s hot body.
“D…do you think…umm…that I’m now finally pregnant? We…we tried it since a year, Robert…and tonight...it was so different.”
“Maybe,” he replied, and caressed gently my belly. “However, my love, please don’t be sad when not. It’ll happen one day and I love that we practice and practice. You were so phenomenal.”
“Please spend the night with me and don’t sleep in your own bed,” I asked for, and turned back to face my husband.
“My pleasure, Alexandra.”
I got on my knees and slipped my lips along Robert’s tall frame, leaving a wet track on his delicious hide. I wanted to taste the mix of our two fluids on him and helped him to get a bit quicker ready for round two.
Robert was now totally thrilled and aboulic. “Oh god, it’s not my birthday, isn’t it?”
“No, but I think you were a good husband last week…” I smacked.
As I wanted to put my lips over his semi erected manhood, there was again that screening smoke and I didn’t smell the odour of sex, the unique mix of sweat and lust. No, there was the smell of coffee.
“It’s my turn…at bat?” I murmured dozily. Uggh, my neck was stiff.
“It’s just after five. We’ll give it another half hour.”
“Don’t you ever sleep?” I asked, and tried to hide my disbelief.
“It’s a lot to do,” my partner whispered. He sat on a small chair, still in his suit, just the tie was away and the topmost of the buttons of his blue dress shirt was open.
I nodded, but actually I didn’t get what he said. Where was I? Why I wore that black leather jacket? Why Bobby and I weren’t naked and why I didn’t spoil him?
I took a sip of the hot liquid to come back to reality.
“There are…uh…case studies…on the psychopathy of burglars.”
A knock on the door stopped my rotating brain.
“This hump’s not gonna show. You don’t mind…my guys like to go home. See their kids off to school,” one of our colleagues said. Bobby and I agreed, the observation was over.
Inflexible I climbed out of the van. Bobby held the door open and offered me his hand for the big step out of the high car. Nearly I stumbled that shaky were my legs. I still felt Bobby’s…Robert’s moist tongue and playful fingertips on my blazing skin.
“Attention, Eames,” Bobby said worried. He reached around my waist and pulled me against his body to support me.
My body snuggled will-less against his long frame. I groaned slightly because of that real contact but didn’t dare to speak or even looking into his eyes. What would be when he saw all the desire inside?
“Let me drive to OnePP, Alex. I think you need still a few minutes for waking up,” he said, and went to the driver’s side of the SUV. Over the roof of our car Bobby asked curiously: “Did you sleep well? You groaned really deeply during your nap.”
I couldn’t answer. I was speechless. While I reached for the car door the beautiful silver bracelet of my grandma slips to my left wrist and peeked under my black jacket.
Thanks for taking the time to read: MASERENGEO
We'll read us again…Antje
With thanks to Val and her London information.
Thanks to Barbi for her ear and re-watching Silver Lining.
I know that the observation scene was between October 18th and October 26th so it can’t be Halloween, but it’s close, very close when you turn a blind eye ;o)