Dragon Quest VIII (Angelo/Jessica)

[queenoftheskies.livejournal.com]

Title: Heartbreaker
Author/Artist: queenoftheskies
Rating: R
Warnings: explicit sex, almost non-con sex
Word count: 2,357
Summary: After leaving the Pub where Angelo is flirting with bunnygirls, Jessica is abducted by a man who cast fuddle on her and Angelo must come to her rescue.
Prompt: #12. Dragon Quest VIII, Angelo/Jessica: Jealousy - What goes through Jessica's mind when she sees Angelo flirting with other women?
A/N: I apologize for posting this late. It was due for yesterday, but real life (aka job) interfered.

Heartbreaker


Bastard. Jessica turned away with a snort, focusing on the food that sat in front of her on the table. She hadn’t touched it, she didn’t want it. Still, she picked at it with what little interest she could muster, shoving a bite of meat into her mouth before allowing the fork to clatter to the table, abandoned. Dropping her head into her hands, she glared out the window and into the city beyond. Why do I let him get to me this way?

Not looking at him didn’t help. She could still see his handsome face in her mind, illuminated with that shining smile, his eyes filled with amusement, silver hair pulled back in a tail.

She could still hear his voice, though she could tell from the tone of the giggles that he had moved on to a new conquest. “Your beauty rivals that of the goddess herself.”

Jessica could still see the innocent, upturned face of his last triumph, her eyes bright with excitement, the way the bunnysuit hugged her curves, the way her bosom heaved over the tight cups in the bodice.

Maybe this time he’d gone too far and the goddess would smite him for sacrilege.

They wouldn’t be so quick to listen if they knew him like I do. Or would they? Some women had no qualms surrendering to any sweet-mouthed pretty boy that came along.

And he was pretty. Jessica couldn’t deny that. And dashing. Especially during battle, in that red Templar uniform, a determined set to his face, his sword flashing. With a sigh, she shoved her chair back from the table and rose, flinging her napkin into her plate.

Angelo’s laughter drove her to the door, head down. It was almost as if he’d followed her to the Pub to intentionally annoy her. He’d shown up not long after she’d settled down and ordered, but had ignored her as if she wasn’t even there.

Maybe he didn’t see me. But, she knew he had, knew he’d take at least one of the pretties home and that when he finally woke late the next morning, they’d have to hear all about his conquests, replayed one by one.

She’d be glad when they left the town, glad when they were on the road again. Ultimately, he’d fall silent, like he always did, when he realized none of them were the least bit interested in his sexual pursuits.

Bastard.

The hot summer air took her breath as she stepped into the failing light, and left her dripping sweat as she walked along the cobbled path that led toward the center of town. By the time she reached the shallow fountain in the center of the business section, she hardly felt like a lady any more.

Brushing back loose strands of hair matted to her forehead, she resisted the urge to cast crackle on the fountain. She imagined that even in its slimy state, there was still enough water left to give off enough cold to give her several minutes reprieve from the oppressive heat.

Instead, she made herself pass the broken image of the goddess that sat in the center of the lopsided pool, thinking of the bath in the Inn. An extra few coins might convince the owner’s wife to allow her additional bath privileges, long enough at least to freshen up and enjoy cool air before she retired for the night.

“Excuse me, Miss?” The voice was pleasant and male.

Jessica turned in question to find a man smiling at her from across the square. He hurried toward her, expensive clothes flapping around him, his dark hair pulled back in a tail much like Angelo’s. But there, the similarities ended. Where Angelo was slight, this man was tall and broad of shoulder. Where Angelo was a soldier of the church, she guessed from his clothes and the size of the purse at his belt, this man was a merchant, and well-to-do at that.

“Do I know you?” Some of the tension eased from her shoulders and she straightened. Perhaps a distraction was what she needed to help her forget about Angelo’s antics at the Pub. Some pleasant company for a change might do just that.

He stopped beside her, his mouth curling into a smile. “Don’t you remember?” He captured her hand, lifting it to his mouth, though his eyes--brilliant blue eyes--never left hers.

No. She blinked, unable to break free of his glowing eyes. His...eyes... “Yes.” Maybe she did. How could I forget...

“We spent all last summer together.”

She felt a strike of guilt that she could forget such a thing. Yes. “I remember.” Only, she didn’t. Not really. Maybe. But, she knew she’d seen him before. “I’m sorry. I just...so much has happened since then what with Alistair’s death and...” A lump rose in her throat. Pulling her hand from his, she whirled. She couldn’t let him see her cry; she couldn’t let anyone see her cry. “You’ll have to excuse me. I...”

At the first step, her head spun. At the second, her vision clouded and she wobbled. She was halfway to the cobbled street when strong hands captured her arms, muscled arms wrapped around her, steadied her.

“It must be the heat.” He captured her eyes again. “Why don’t you come home with me? I have ice.” The smile returned. “I’ll fix you something to drink and we can catch up on old times.”

No. Slowly, Jessica nodded. No. No, I want to go...home. “That sounds lovely...” She couldn’t remember his name. After all they’d been through, after all the time they’d spent together, she couldn’t remember his name. It must be the heat. Dragging in a deep breath she leaned against him and let him lead her down the road.

#

They’d traveled away from the center of town and into a section dark and decrepit. At least that’s how she’d remembered it. Only a few fragments of the journey remained intact in her mind.

His home was nice enough, though, comfortable with well-worn furniture, bright with light, and pleasantly cool, as he’d promised. She was on her second drink when he sat down beside her, offering her sweets and pastries that made her mouth water.

“Please,” he begged. “Won’t you?”

“I shouldn’t.” She pushed gently on the plate as she finished her drink. “I really should be getting back soon. The others will wonder if I’ve gone lost.”

“Others?” His eyes burned. “But, my lady, I thought you were here alone.”

“I...” She’d thought there were others; she’d been sure there were others. “I thought...” The dizziness returned. Her stomach churned until she thought it would spill its contents across the clean wooden floor. “I’m sorry...” She pushed herself up from the sofa with one hand. “I feel...sick...I...”

He captured her arm, steadying her again. “Perhaps I can help,” he offered. “I have healing potions and I know...” The smile deepened. “A small healing spell or two.”

“Magic,” she croaked. “You...know...”

He caught her when she fell, wrapping one strong arm around her waist while his lips found hers and his tongue, hot and questing, plunged into her mouth. He tasted of ale and peppermints and Jessica found herself opening wider to him, found herself clutching desperately at his shoulders as her body burned for him, ached with desire.

Her world dissolved into a blur of passion where she pressed herself against him, longed for him to touch her, to take her. But, in her mind, she saw not the black of his hair, or the breadth of his build. In her mind she saw the lithe form of a Templar, dressed in red, with hair the color of silver.

Angelo?

The door burst open with a swoosh of wind so powerful it knocked Jessica and her would-be lover off their feet. Her head bounced off the floor with a painful thud that wrung a cry from her abused lips and she lay there, stunned, unable to summon the energy to extricate herself from beneath the body of the man she didn’t know.

“Jessica!” Angelo rushed into the room, kicked the man off her, demanding, “Do you want me to kill him?” as he knelt to take her in his arms.

“No.” She allowed him to support her as she sat. “I think I...know him.”

“You don’t know him.” Angelo spat on the man as he pushed himself off the floor. “He’s used fuddle on you. Don’t you recognize the signs?”

Fuddle. Something clicked in her brain. “The dizziness. The...” If she spoke the words, she’d choke on them, so she swallowed them inside. Warmth crept into her cheeks, tears into her eyes. But, she wouldn’t let them see her cry. “Thank you, Angelo,” she said in a cold voice. Pushing away, she staggered to her feet, smoothing her skirt, pulling her tattered blouse back up over one exposed breast. “I’ll meet you back at the...”

“I’ll whack him,” Angelo offered, hurrying after her. “Real quick-like. Just a little whack.”

Jessica turned to scream at him, to tell him to leave her alone, but the earnestness of his eyes drained her anger. “You can’t...” Her eyes drifted past him and her anger built again. “Though I suppose one whack wouldn’t hurt.” Not that she actually wanted to kill him, but...he had a fifty/fifty chance. More than she’d had when he had seduced her with fuddle.

The man paled, dropping back a step toward the stairs.

Angelo whirled, almost faster than Jessica could see, casting fuddle before her attacker could escape. “There. That should hold him until the constable arrives.”

“You...knew?” Her cheeks flamed again.

“I suspected when I saw you waver in the square.” He shrugged. “Didn’t hurt that I’d seen his face on a wanted poster at the Pub either.”

“You followed me,” she accused. Disappointment washed away her anger. “You followed me and yet you let that vile creature touch me?”

“He...had friends.”

For the first time, she noticed the swelling around his eye, the bruises on his face, his sword hand wrapped in a swath of dirty cloth. “I’m...sorry.”

“I dispatched the lot of them,” he said with a cocky smile. “Ten of them...at least.”

“Why do you do this?” she asked, suddenly weary. “Why do you always pretend?”

“Because, if you saw the real me,” he said leaning close to whisper, “you might not like me.”

“The way they like you?” she accused. “All you do the entire time we’re in town is flirt. With so many women I lose count.”

“One can only be turned down so many times before one starts to worry that one is not attractive to the opposite...” He turned away, refusing to meet her eyes.

“You never asked,” she accused, fists clenching. Color crept into her cheeks. She’d all but admitted that she’d wanted him to.

Slowly, he turned back to face her, disappointment in his eyes. “You never gave me the chance.”

She was saved from having to answer when she wavered, almost stumbling on her way to the door. Angelo was there, one arm wrapped around her waist before she could protest.

“Allow me,” he offered, lifting her into his arms.

She almost snapped at him, came real close to telling him to keep his hands off her, but his touch was gentle, the look in his eyes even gentler, and when he smiled, he actually looked happy. It wasn’t forced. It wasn’t cocky. For the first time, she felt like she might be seeing the real Angelo. The one he was afraid for others to see.

“Thank you,” she whispered, laying her head on his shoulder. “I feel kind of...weak.”

“It’s the after affects of fuddle,” he assured her.

Jessica smiled. He understood her and her need not to be weak more than she’d realized. Perhaps they were more alike than she’d suspected. Perhaps that was why his flirting had bothered her so.

“Let me get you back to the Inn,” he said with a mischievous light in his eye, “and we’ll get a look at you and see what needs to be healed.”

“You look like you could use some healing yourself,” she challenged.

“Personally.” A touch of color crept into his cheeks. “I like to think a kiss might make it all better.”

Raising her head from his shoulder, Jessica touched her lips to the bruise at his eye. She was gentle with the larger, darker bruise on his cheek, flinching at the sight of it, black beneath her lips. Angelo didn’t protest, though, nor when she freed herself from his arms and leaned against him, leaning up to kiss his lips.

“We’ll need to do something about the door,” he said, inclining his head toward the open space where the door had been.

“You should have thought about that before you blew it down.”

His eyes shifted to the stairs.

“What about the constable?”

“You could...” He grinned. “Evac us when we’re finished.”

“I could evac us now.”

“I don’t think so.” His hand crept up her arm to settle on her shoulder, warm, but light. His other hand lit on her opposite shoulder and very slowly, he slid them down, drawing down her blouse with them.

Jessica bit back a gasp and Angelo grinned. Before she could protest, he’d gathered her back into his arms and staggered over the still fuddled merchant, aimed at the stairs. His mouth dropped to her nearest breast, his tongue teasing her nipple until it was hard.

This time she did gasp. “The others will worry.”

“Let them,” he whispered, his breath warm against sensitive skin.

With a shudder, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing his face against her. He took her breast in his mouth, stumbling when his foot hit the first stair.

Their eyes met and she laughed in response to the surprised look on his face. “We do want to get to the top in one piece.”

The surprise turned to laughter. “Then you’d better stop distracting me.”

“Stop?” Her voice grew husky. “I don’t think so, Angelo. I’m just getting started.”