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Perhaps it was the flowers which had attracted her attentions, ones that her reclusive xenophobic kin feared to so much as look upon. She could guess why. The giants that lived in this area were much more terrifying than the humans who scared fae kind already something terrible.

But Ilya was curious to a fault, often to the point where finding out about something took precedence over fear or common sense. 

A winged ball of blue light flitted from flower to lovely flower, drinking in the scents and giving them a little bit of her magic. She had to say that Bergen's royal gardens were almost as pretty as the ones she knew back home.

~~~~

It was boing with Meg gone. The Kaufners were gone on a year-long voyage around the country. Sometimes, Gabriel got short messages or drawings from her with leaves or flowers pressed for him. But while she was off exploring exciting new places, he was stuck in Bergen doing tutoring. 

It was a hot afternoon, but the ten year old loved nature far too much to retreat indoors. The young prince slowly meandered through the palace gardens, trying to avoid his governess' gaze and think of something as fun to do as climbing the Alps (like Meg.) 

~~~~

The sunlight softened the blue fairy astronomical amounts, even to the extent of lowering her own glow, revealing a porcelain skinned, willowy figured girl dressed in a gossamer gown of white. Light blue hair like spun opals was gathered in two braids, sharp ears knifing through. Ilya's soft amethyst eyes reflected the nature around herself. The sound of loud footsteps made her jump. A human? She needed to hide quickly! But as she shifted to move, rose blossom she'd been sitting on bended oddly and she lost her footing, letting out a squeak. Willing her wings to beat but quickly found the delicate things had collided with something sharp nearby. She hadn't the time to check for she felt a terrible tearing pain in her wing. Ilya let out a panicked cry as she clung to a rose stem, thankfully having avoided catching any of the thorns with her hands.

~~~~

Gabriel raced towards the blue glow. He had always felt a connection to the supernatural world, but he had yet to encounter any fae first-hand. His little hands parted the leaves and he gasped in wide-eyed wonder. It was a fairy! Finally!

"I knew it!" He breathed, his big blue-green eyes staring. "They don't believe me. I've always wanted to meet a fairy... Oh, you're hurt!" The freckled youth outstretched a hand. 
"Don't be afraid, little fairy. I'm a nice human." He used a comforting voice, like the one mommy used when she fixed up his boo-boos. He wrapped his hand around her waist and gently tugged her from the rose stem. He stayed mostly in the tall plants to stay out of sight. His palm wasn't very roomy for her, but she was no longer clinging for dear life. 

Ilya knew she'd probably just landed herself into an even worse situation but at this point, she wanted to at least catch her breath before she got pulverized. Her ribcage expanded and contracted, sleek white fabric like spun sugar laying against it. She chanced opening her eyes to find her savior and located a pair of gentle eyes regarding her with boyish excitement and kindness as well. None the less, she shivered a bit.
"...Wait." Her nose twitched a moment before her own eyes went wide. "You're like me but you're not."
She tried to move her wing but it hurt too much and she whimpered.

"Huh?" Gabriel gave her a confusion expression. He leaned in closer to look at her wing with her. It was beautiful, and he was itching to have a longer time to study it, but she was hurting. 
"Don't worry, I'll fix you." He smiled brightly and cupped her close. He started to rush back towards the palace, but stopped short. "Delilah." he hissed. The governess was reading a book in the sun, periodically glancing up to check on him. 
She looked up from the page when she heard the prince's shuffling footsteps.

"Going in so soon?" She raised an eyebrow at him.
"I want to surprise mommy with flowers." He explained quickly. The bouquet of blossoms in his arms did seem to prove that. 
"I'm sure she'll love them." The tucked a strand of her salt-and-pepper hair behind her ear and continued reading. 

"She'll believe almost anything." Gabriel bragged, letting out a sigh of relief when he was in his own spacious bedroom. He let the flowers drop and rushed around to gather a pillow to put her on, and the basket of medical supplies he knew was in his bathroom pantry. 

Ilya took a moment whilst the boy was out of the room to gather her barings and take a look at her wings. The sight made her stomach turn and twist grotesquely. A large torn section sat on the upper left section of her gauzy wing. Her lip quivered. How was she supposed to fly like this? Even if the boy managed to patch her up, she'd need time before things healed enough for herto be able to fly again.

Objects clattered against the wicker basket as Gabriel hurried back to the bed. He sat down cross-legged in front of the pillow and dug through the supplies. He pulled out a needle, followed by a tied-off bundle of dissolvable thread. 

"I've never really done stitches before, but I've watched the servants do it a couple times." He was truthfully, a little nervous that he might hurt her worse. But if it went awful, he supposed he could show her to Mother. 

He stuck out his tongue as he struggled to thread the needle. It was tricky, but with silence and perseverance, he managed to get it through the eye of the needle. 
"Oh!" He carefully set it aside and unscrewed the cap of a dark blue glass bottle. "I'm supposed to put this on first. Almost forgot. I think it helps stuff stop hurting." He showed her the pale green paste on his finger, then reached behind her to rub it around the tear. 
"It's okay..." He tried to soothe her, but he knew it hurt. 

Ilya hissed through severely gritted teeth and felt her eyes burn. Whatever was being applied to her wound hurt and smelled awful. She fisted her hands into her dress tightly until they hurt from the strain of distraction. At this point she figured this child had proven he genuinely wanted to assist her rather than harm. He was being very careful, that much could be seen plainly.
"Ow...What is this stuff? It smells like troll dung..." 

"Cap-sah-pul-lee-nah pain-relieving balm." He sounded out the complex script written on the label. Stowing it away, he set the basket aside and picked up the needle. 
He hesitated a moment, taking in her ethereally purple eyes, locked on his. "Just hold still, please." He offered her a smile, then leaned down. 
His small hand held her waist-down still while a slightly shaky hand brought the needle too to her wing. 
The first penetration was the hardest. He felt her stiffen, but nothing violent. He continued weaving the needle in and out of the gauzy wing until the gash was sewed up completely. The stitches were a little cross-crossed, and not nearly as efficient as a professional's hand. But it would do.

Gabriel tossed the tools back into the basket and leaned over her in concern. 
"That... Didn't hurt did it?"

The little fairy lamented the loss of flawless wings. For a time, she'd fancied them to be on rival with the beauty of sapphires but now, they were blemished--and by her own doing, no less. Ilya did not begrudge the boy his valiancy. Turning her head and craning her neck to look up at the russet haired boy she gave him an encouraging smile in spite of the tinge of pain still stinging her eyes
"Yes, it hurt but sometimes things need to hurt when they are being fixed."
She inspected her wing further then rose to her feet to give a polite bow at the waist
"Thank you for your help, kind one."

Gabriel was tickled pink by the fact that he had gained a fairy's good graces. 
"No problem." He said casually, laying down on his stomach in front of her. He sighed, almost reverently. "Your eyes are purple." He realized with a smile. "That's so cool!" 
A thought struck him. "What's your name? Mine's Gabriel." 

Honestly, Ilya was not very used to people thinking that her eyes were odd or anything. Where she lived, one would be considered terribly plain with violet eyes. She lived amoungst other flower fairies so it made sense that her perception of normalcy in regards to appearance was skewed by human and giant standards. 
"Ilya." She smiled and sat with her legs to the side. The fact that she had given out even a little of her name showed some degree of trust. To know a fairy's full name was to have complete control over them.
"And you have pretty eyes too."

"My mom says they're just like my daddy's." he rested his head in folded arms. Something about the fairy made him more calm than all the warm milk in the world. Like a wafting ocean breeze on a summer's day. 
"Do you think you'll be able to fly again?" 

"Very generous of him to share his eyes with you, Gabriel."
At his inquiry, her smile faded a bit and she remorsefully took in the poor state of her injured wing. Ilya clasped her hands in her lap
"Perhaps. Give things time and I may very well fly again. Tell me, though..."
She tilted her head to the side a fraction, brows furrowed
"How is it that even though you smell like a fairy, you're ears are round and you look like a human?"
The boy did not seem like a changeling in the slightest.

His eyes lit up. 
"I smell like a fairy?" He exclaimed excitedly, then lowered his voice. "I think I've got a little fairy blood in me. My great great great grandfather or somebody married a fairy..." He paused, noticing the intent way he was being studied. "Is...is that weird?" 

Though the intensity in her eyes faded, Ilya continued to ponder just why she felt so much magical affinity in a boy this young, let alone someone with such diluted fair folk blood. She smiled and shook her head.
"Not odd in the slightest. It makes you unique."

He relaxed noticeably. Footsteps passing close outside his door made him freeze, but they passed. 

"Iyla, can I... Uhm, may I touch your hand? I-I've just never seen a fairy before and you're so pretty- and..." He trailed off and looked away, turning redder than a radish and looking rather like he wanted to kick himself for opening his mouth. 

This child was rather adorable, considering he was rather large by her standards. Ilya exntended a skinny hand towards the boy trustingly.
"You may. It is very curteous that you ask to touch a lady as well." She commended. 

Gabriel propped himself up with one arm and extended the other to take her hand. His big blue eyes lit up with sparks when he gazed at the tiny hand lying atop his palm. He could feel each individual finger. So small, delicate, and yet just as real and fleshy as his own. Was this what dad felt when he picked mommy up all the time?

The fae woman glowed faintly, her curiousity at the boy's awed reaction apparent. Yet somehow this was not something she imagined being an entirely new concept for the look in his eyes was something of comprehension rather than discovery. She eyed his hand curiously as well.

Gabriel's eyes reflected Iyla's faint glow. He felt a connection with her. Like a buzzing inside that just said this was right. 
"You can stay with me until your wing heals." He offered. "I can keep you hidden from the others... And I can show you where all the fun is around this place." He grinned mischievously, revealing three gaps where he had lost his baby teeth already.

"You are forever in my debt, young Gabriel."
The fairy smiled and bowed her head. A fairy's vow was never to be taken lightly, least of all in situations of this magnitude. 

Though Iyla could never have expected as much, the beginnings of a strong friendship had been born in the most unlikely of ways.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The pristine beauty of a quiet spring day in the sprawling city of Bergen was marred by the rapid clomping of hooves of cobblestone. The rider dismounted with impressive agility- before the creature had come to complete stop. It was neatly tied off to a tree in moments. The steed bore the grooming and breeding of a palace horse, but curiously lacked the usually saddle and saddlebags. 

A strapping young man with a strong jaw and russet locks peered around the corner of the blacksmith's shop. Spotting his target across the bustling street, his bright eyes lit up. Not far behind him was a small orb of blue light. If one looked closely enough, they would see the tiny feminine figure hovering by his right ear. The man seemed to instantly sense her presence. He turned to share with her a grin of the most devious proportion before returning his eyes to the street. 

"Mum's gonna have my hide for this." He murmured, sounding rather proud.

A fatigued huff left the blue fairy who, whilst used to Gabe's antics did not look forward to dealing with him post lecture.
"Yes, she is and I will have no part in attempting to save your guilty hide from her wrath." She landed on his shoulder and folded her arms. "Or your fathers', for that matter."

The prince chuckled. 
"It's just harmless magic..." He pulled out a metal tube from inside his vest and dipped it in a vial of a shimmering amber solution. "Art, even."'

He whispered a spell and held up the metallic straw to his shoulder for Iyla to lazily blow on. Her natural potency of fae magic combined with his diluted inheritance carried the amber mixture on the the breeze to its intended target: a campaign poster for a rallying politician for representative. The substance took new form as it hit the poster with a splat: a fanciful mustache and goatee now muddled the image. It hardened, becoming near impossible to remove.
Gabriel laughed triumphantly. "Yes!" 

A few onlookers got a good chuckle but some huffed and shook their heads. Iyla had to admit that this was a pretty funny prank but it had Gabriel written all overit. His mother and father would probably kill him for this.

A gypsy girl in the crowd let out a laugh and spun out.
"I'd know that brand of trickery anywhere, your highness."
With her hair pulled up into a high ponytail and the remains of acrylic paints staining her fingers, the woman crossed her arms over a well developed chest, a genetic gift from her mother.
"Pen is going to have your sorry butt for this if you do it any larger scale...Though that's half the fun."

"I dunno, Cora, I think a mural might be in order..." Gabe grinned. 
Seeing as his cover was blown, he strode out a always to face the woman. "It's nice, isn't it? My best one yet." he blew a kiss up at the glittering graffiti. 

"Not a complete travesty. Could be better, I'd say."
She yawned feigning disinterest.
"Surely you can do better than simple posters?"

Iyla pinched the bridge of her nose. She could see this was not ending well.

"Give me a wall, and I'll paint you a masterpiece." Gabe cross his arms across his chest. Bluffing continued to get him into escalated situations, but he always found his way to the top. "It'll be fine." He murmured to the fairy on his shoulder, sensing a vaguely stressed vibe from her. 

"Oh yes, because having you confined to your chambers all day long is the very best thing and is entirely 'fine'."
Iyla rolled her eyes and retorted, sorely tempted to charm him into something less capable of trickery.

Cora let out another one of her signature laughs and gestured to a large expanse of building wall in very plain sight.
"Go ahead. I've gotta see this."

Gabriel strutted past her to face the wall. A gaggle of onlookers recognized him and began to gather at a distance. 
"I'm not in trouble until I get caught." He smirked, breathing I for he tube and willing a new pattern to emerge on the brick wall. He had only gotten two letters in when a clamoring of hooves and the sound if people making way for the cluster of horses made him turn around. 
"Prince Gabriel." The palace guards looked like they had very little patience left. "We are to escort you to the palace immediately." 

His face fell. "Crap." 

A snicker left a certain gypsy woman who let out a 'busteeeeed' before vanishing back into the crowd. With her job done, Cora returned to the group she danced with, performing swiveled movements of undulating hips and elegant arches of the back and wrists.

A small fairy girl was left to go on about how she'd told him so. Iyla was very unimpressed and made very much certain that she scolded the prince's ear off.

"Yeah, yeah..." Gabe muttered. He shrugged his shoulder so that Iyla had to focus on keeping her balance rather than chastising him. 

"Alright guys, I'll come quietly." He held up his hands and laughed tensely. He made a break for his horse, but a pair of stallions were quick to block his path.
"So you guys do learn." He slumped in submission and climbed onto the empty horse waiting for him. He was not looking forward to the lecture awaiting him. 

The fairy let out a small cry and made a foul face at the prince, giving his hair a sharp yank in retaliation.
"You're on your own." She sniffed then took off from his shoulder, reduced to a blue blur of glow and wings.

Capitol City || Chapter 1
This is an epilogue-ish story companion to the story "Wander" written by myself and my old pal :icontomoebutts:. It's very long, but I feel like even if you haven't followed the original story in depth, you can still enjoy these ever-after stories on their own. 
I've held off on posting these stories of what happens to Jude, Pen, Adrian, and Kanna (and their kiddies) for over a year, in the hopes that we would have Wander published on amazon by now... But editing is expensive and with two authors hundreds of miles apart, coordinating between ourselves can be tricky. So here is one new story from the "Wander" universe for you to enjoy.
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Whoa! Digging the new update to DA! 
"Dean?" 

Blinking away the strange sleep, Charlie woke up to see the blonde hunter looming over her on the bed. Something was off about the image, and it took her brain several moments of confused back and forth to logic out what exactly was wrong her perspective. Dean had always been pretty tall. But right now, he was about the size of the Sears tower to Charlie. So not normal. The jade eyes far overhead locked onto her the moment she opened her mouth, sending a vicious chill up her spine. 

"Oh F-Fudge muffins..." Charlie muttered with a gulp. 

Dean got down closer to her, aware of her stammering and shocked reaction. As he set a huge hand on the edge of the bed to support himself, she was startled by the immediate comparison. His hand alone was roughly the size of a pick-up truck! 

"This would be so much hotter if you were Princess Leia in a slave bikini." She squeaked out nervously. 

Dean raised an eyebrow, but the searing concern in his eyes did not relent. 

"How are you feeling, Charlie?"

"G-great. Totally great. Sidebar on that though- what's with the freakishly big growth spurt?" 

"Uh... More like the other way around. When you jumped in front and took that hit for me," Dean explained haltingly. "It looks like the wicked witch... She, uh, shrunk you." 

The tiny redhead stared up at him blankly for a lengthy pause. "This is a joke, right?" 

Dean only gave her a grim look. 

Charlie shook her head insistently, arguing with the crushing reality on her shoulders. "T-there was nothing about this in the books! Since when does the wicked witch of the west go around shrinking people?" 

"Well, apparently, this is a pretty common thing back in OZ. Dorothy didn't even bat an eye when she saw you." 

Charlie swallowed hard. All color was frightened right out of her complexion, leaving her as pale as the creamy sheets she stood amidst. 

Dean reached for her slowly. "I'm gonna pick you up now. There's a safe room downstairs." 

Like a switch had been flipped, Charlie let out an embarrassingly high pitched yelp and leapt away from the incoming hand. She tripped amongst folds of fabric, tumbling backwards onto her fanny. Heart flitting fearfully, she scrambled to her feet and continued to back away. 

"Whoa! Uh, actually I've got a lot of important stuff to do over there, on the other side of the bed." She laughed weakly. 

Dean failed to hide his impatience. "Charlie-"  

"A-and wow have you been working out? Cause," With a vague gesture towards his upper body, Charlie clicked her tongue irreverently, backing into a pillow as Dean continued to reach for her bit by bit. "It shows."

"Charlie. You have every right to freak out." Dean assured her, easily seeing through her skittish jokes. "But I'm not budging on the fact that you need to come with me- now. We've got a wicked witch loose in the bunker, and you're only a few inches tall. I'm taking you somewhere safe until further notice." 

Charlie was a bit stunned by her own reaction. She stared at Dean's hand, hyper aware of all the wrinkles and grooves and details that made it uniquely his. Despite the Winchesters being  monster-magnets, she had never turned down a hug or anything from him before. He was a great hugger, after all. But then again... A hug from this Behemoth-Dean would probably kill her. 

She braced herself as his thick fingers finally made contact, brushing along her side and around her to back. It was comforting to see the intense, almost comical concentration on his face; he was nearly as freaked out about this as she was. With that in mind, she forced herself to hold still, falling back into his grasp and letting her skinny arms drape over his knuckles. His free hand hovered under his occupied one, even though he held her in a fist from the stomach-down.

Dean held her up near his face: her eyes were squeezed tight and she was white-knuckling his first finger. 

"You alright? You're... not gonna throw up on me, are you?" 

She peeked up at him. "I could say the same thing to you. You look like you're about to go into labor!" 

Dean scoffed, but cracked a brief smile. It was a relief to see her calm down enough to back-sass him at the very least. He shut off the lights in his bedroom and started for the stairs. 

"Dorothy... Are she and Sam okay?" Charlie called up, not sure if she needed to shout to be heard. She looked up at the underside of his chin, wondering if this is how super rare action figures felt when they were carried around. 

Dean nodded without looking down. "They're scouting out the place for the witch."

He clenched his jaw, growing anxious with the passage of time. There was no telling where the witch would strike next. And now that she had the key, the stakes had mounted. 

Dean checked around every corner and vent for any green smoke or the ugly hag herself. Charlie eyed with a new wariness how his finger flexed over the trigger of the big handgun in his other hand.

He made it to the safe room without incident. It wasn't officially labeled a safe room; the men of letters had used it as some sort of storage room. But it was warded against demons and just about every other type of monster, so the brothers declared the unofficial safe room of the bunker. 

"Alright, you should be safe here. Don't try to do anything crazy. We'll take care of this." Dean told her, gingerly setting the tiny Charlie onto the small table near the front. 

She was almost lost in the landscape of abandoned paperwork and dried-up fountain pens. Dean felt a pang about leaving her side for even a moment in this vulnerable state. He convinced himself to leave with the knowledge that she had the best chance of surviving this here, away from the action. 

Charlie craned her neck a little less as he stepped away to check that the poppy bullets were still in front of the clip.  

"O-Okay. I'll just be... Here." Charlie trailed off into an anxious mutter.  

She received one last harried look from the huge hunter before his steps pounded to the door and he left her sight. The door shut behind him, large gears grinding the antique lock shut firmly. 
Tiny!Charlie ficlet part 1
Companion to my previous piece: Tiny Charlie by Obsess-Confess

in honor of supernatural kicking off season 10 tonight (FINALLY OMG), I'm posting this. Charlie and Dean are like my brotp. This isn't going to be a very long ficlet, but I have a rough outline in mind for the rest. Let me know what you think! :D

(also feeling good about that midterm so yay!!)
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Peace. Quiet. Underwater, all noises above were muted. Running low on oxygen, Jon pushed off the bottom of the pool and surfaced. He sucked in oxygen and slicked his hair back off of his face. 

It was the last day of summer. Not according any calendar persay, but Jon could feel it in the air. That conclusion to the heat, the bittersweet spirals of leaves soon to hibernate in their array of colors.

Cliff was laying out on one of the chairs, getting some sun under his mirrored sunglasses. They were celebrating their latest victory (killing a vampire-infected jackal in the West Virginia woods) by taking advantage of the fact that their motel had a pool. Celebrating didn't usually manifest itself in such a way for them, but having Sylvia had changed their routine a bit. For the better, in Jon's opinion. 

The pool itself was small, and had a few leaves floating around the deep end, but no one came out there. Probably because most of the motel's patrons were ladies of the night. It had been a blast, but it was hot

"I'm calling it a day." Jon announced, stepping out of the pool and reaching for a towel. Cliff remained motionless, so Jon gave him a bump. 
"Huh?" He mumbled, pushing up his sunglasses. 
"I'm heading inside. It's a sauna out here."

There were enough scattered leaves floating on the surface that no one from a distance would notice a fairy swimming in the pool. Sylvia swam closer to the wall after the water settled from Jon's exit. She felt a pleasant sort of exhaustion--a sharp contrast to the sort that came from fearing for her and her friends' lives during a hunt. She had learned to savor every second that was spent in leisure.

The heat was beginning to get to her as well. Some AC sounded heavenly. Either way, she had little interest being alone in the pool. 
Though she was tired, she was capable of getting out on her own. She focused on the water surrounding her and backed away from the pool wall. A second later, a small wave built up around her, carrying her high enough to grasp the rough concrete edge a meter away from the boys. She pulled herself up with a grunt.

Her wings were soaked, too heavy with dripping water to fly--which proved to be problematic after standing on the concrete for a few seconds. She jolted, letting out a yelp from the inescapable burning sensation at her feet. 

"The ground's hot!"

Jon spun on his heels, mildly surprised that she managed to get out on her own. He tossed the towel aside and hastily stepped over to her. 

"Oh geez," he said, scooping her up between two large hands. Her feet splayed out ward, and he could see how bright pink they were on the bottom. "You okay?" He asked, standing up over the puddle of water. 

She nodded, hastily tucking hair out of her face as she brought her legs close. Wanting quick relief, she summoned a minor cooling spell to her fingertips and pressed them to the throbbing burns.
"I'm good," she assured with a sigh as the pain eased.

Out of the pool, she felt the heat of the sun even more prominently. The chlorine-treated water soaking her tank top and shorts did nothing to keep her cool. She slumped back against the curve of Jon's fingers. "You said you were going inside?" she asked hopefully.

She received a dazzling smile in reply. Jon was mostly toweled off but he wasn't immune to the crisp coolness of the a/c when he walked through the motel lobby. The receptionist barely glanced up from the soap opera on TV as he talk young man strode through with a towel around his neck and a balled up T shirt in his hand. 

"Man," Jon announced much more loudly once they were safely behind the closed doors of their motel room. "I still wish I had a picture of when you slapped Cliff with that wave." He laughed as he set down his shirt on the bed and unfolded it, gently helping the concealed fairy within. 

She snorted as she pushed herself to stand. "He had it coming. You'd think he'd know better than to tease me when I have a pool full of water to use against him."

He offered a single finger to support her as she stepped out of he soft material. "I'm going to go take a quick shower. Rinse the chlorine out... Then we can rent a movie, if you want." 

The air was blessedly cool, but it chilled her wet clothes until she was nearly shivering. She gave an eager nod. "I like the sound of that." Curled up with Jon to watch a movie . . . She couldn't think of a better way to unwind. 
She wanted to change into something fresh, but she didn't want to get the stench of chlorine all over another set of clothes. She stepped closer to the edge of the mattress.

"I should shower off, too," she said. Her cheeks turned pink as she let out a little laugh at her implication. "Y'know, in the--in the sink."

"Right," Jon agreed, giving her an amused look for the blush. 

He picked her up in one hand and carried her to the bathroom. She stepped off onto the counter, and Jon turned around to pull on the shower faucet. He did the same for the sink. Instantly, steam billowed out of the thin faucet. Arching a brow, Jon stepped closer and dipped his hand under the stream of water. 
"Ow!" He hissed, withdrawing his hand and wringing it out. He tried turning off the hot water portion altogether, but even with the cold handle turned full force the water recovered was nothing short of scalding. 

"Pipes must be boiling under the sun," he muttered. He assumed the shower would be in the same state, but strangely enough, the water was the perfect temperature. 
"Huh... The shower's fine. Must be connected to separate tanks or something." Jon stood in front of the curtain, fully understanding her earlier blush as he prepared to speak again. "You uh... Maybe you want to try the shower for once? I could watch you. I mean! Not-- I'll make sure you don't slip and stuff..." 

She glanced away with a broad grin at his choice of words. Her gaze drifted back, raking over his toned chest and abs before going to his face. The color on her cheeks deepened further, her drying wings giving an involuntary flit. 

"Y-Yeah," she answered with a slight crack in her voice. She cleared her throat and shrugged like it was no big deal. "Yeah. I-I mean, I don't mind going in with you. It'll save time. Just rinsing off the chlorine, right?"

"Yeah." Jon replied quickly. Thank God she had given the excuse herself and he didn't have or blubber out one himself. He had picked her up countless times before... So why did his hands hesitate when he reached for her? 

Her body fit perfectly in the curve of his hand as he cupped her higher, close to his body as he stepped over the threshold and into the gentle wall of steam. The water beat in the enclosed space in a gentle roar. Jon tried to hold Sylvia out of the spray as he looked around for somewhere to set her down. Obviously not the floor. That was a class A 'absolutely not' in his book. There was a soap dish around waist level... But the foggy, frosted glass window ledge was closer to shoulder level. 

"Here, you can uh..." He mumbled with a slight smile, watching her clamber off his open palm. 

The tiled ledge was slick with condensation from the steam. Once her feet were planted, she was almost afraid to move, feeling as though she would fall on her face after taking a step. 

Although her posture was stiff, she flashed Jon a teasing smile from her perch as she watched the water fall over him. Her shy timidity began to ease into the usual comfortable demeanor she had with him. 

"Pretty sure I had a dream like this once," she laughed.

Jon pulled his head out of the stream of water for a moment to look at her with raised eyebrows. Any dream she had about him that wasn't a godforsaken nightmare was a pleasant surprise to him. 

"I'll try to live up to your expectations, then." He said with a rare smirk. 

Still buzzing with the excitement of exploring this new intimacy with Sylvia, Jon stepped under the warm water and tilted his head back. Water danced off his skin in sprays and spirals, dripping down the sculpted planes of his body. Jon caught her staring at him when he stepped back to grab the soap, but he didn't mind. To the contrary, he quite enjoyed being the center of her attention. 

The eye contact made her face flush, but she didn't avert her gaze, seeing as he didn't appear uncomfortable. She could feel her heart fluttering like a caged bird as he lathered up the soap and spread it over himself. His chest, his shoulders, his arms . . . He moved slowly, almost meticulously. For her. 
It wasn't long before she wasn't content to merely watch.

Her wings flickered, dry enough to carry her. She hovered up a few inches from the ledge, more at ease in the air than on the slippery surface. After a second of hesitation, she flew up behind his shoulder. His body blocked the brunt of the stream. What fell on her was like light, warm rain. The speed of her fluttering wings flicked the gentle water away instead of soaking through.

Soap ran down the back of Jon's shoulder in thin white lines. She flew closer. With something akin the curiosity, she laid her palms on the soap and ran her hands across his shoulder blade. She pressed hard, wondering if he could even feel her.

Touching him relieved some of her restlessness. She proceeded aimlessly, scooping run-off soap and spreading it along his toned back. She was especially fascinated with his spine, running her hand along the indent between his shoulder blades, feeling the ridges of his spinal cord tucked beneath muscle.

The breath left his lungs in one shaky sigh. The sound was almost lost under the pedantic drone from the stream of water. Once again, Sylvia was taking him to places he's never been before; things he'd never felt before. Cliff sometimes assumed because she was so small there wasn't much to explore in the physical side of their relationship. He was so wrong. 

After a couple minutes, he turned around. They were nearly face to face, and he could clearly see her wet tank top and shorts. They clung tightly to her body, leaving no curve to the imagination. Jon leaned down and pressed his lips to the side of her face, giving her time to reciprocate on her own as he shifted to kiss the other cheek.

"You smell like the pool." He remarked as he pulled away. Jon smiled, grabbing the bar of soap and working up a lather of suds in one hand. Putting the bar down, he raised the sudsy hand to her. "Your turn." 

His deep voice reverberated around her and off the tiled walls. The already-warm air felt even warmer with his gaze on her--not stifling. She could see the glint in his large brown eyes that came with the smile.

Chuckling, she flew closer to his hand. At the particular moment, she became incredibly aware small next to it, knowing the suds from his palm alone could cover her a few times over. She had hovered at his shoulders for a few minutes and hadn't come close to touching all of it. 
She scooped soap from his hand and began rubbing it into her arms. Her gaze remained alight, though it turned the slightest bit sheepish.

"You know, I don't think it'll be as fun for you as it was for me," she warned. 

"I wouldn't be too sure of that." Jon replied. A rare smile tugged on his lips just a little bit- happy, tender, and slightly smug. His free hand came up to cup beneath her legs, guiding her into a seated position. With the water beating pleasantly on his back, Jon massaged the soap onto her dainty body. His strokes were careful, gentle, fully aware of her. His finger and thumb squeezed down from her underarms to her skinny waist. Each of her tiny feet and along the smooth skin of her exposed legs. 

"Only fair that I return the favor." 

The blush crept up on Sylvia again. Goosebumps rose on her skin despite the warm water and steam. Her wings flickered against his curled fingers as she relished his touch, sighing and shutting her eyes for a second. 
When she looked up again, a smile curled on her lips to see the tender expression on his face. He was enjoying it as much as she was. 

"Oh, I have a feeling it's more than a favor to me," she teased.

His cheeks warmed at the accusation.
"Sue me," he mumbled, tapping her cheek with a half beard of bubbles. He thought he heard the door open, but after a pause and there as nothing more, slid a water-dripping hand over her and rinsed her off. 

"We should... Do this more often." He said, bringing her up to his glistening shoulder. "Can you hand onto me for a second? I just don't wanna put you down." He admitted with a little chuckle.

"You won't hear a complaint out of me." Still smiling, she stepped onto his shoulder and sank down to let her legs dangle. She let out a squeak when he shifted, realizing her perch was slicker than she thought. It didn't help that she was drenched, too. 
Sliding closer to his neck, she pushed herself against him. "Okay, 'hang on' really means hang on."

Jon paused to let her gain more traction atop him before carefully crouching down to squirt some shampoo into his hand. "I'll be quick." He promised. 
He started to wash his hair, but quickly became aware of how much that simple movement jostled his shoulder. A sharp tug jerked on his ear. He settled for half washed hair in and effort to save his girlfriend. 

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I forgot I soaked your wings, didn't i?" He scooped her up and held her near his chest as he stepped back into the water.

 
Her wings lay flat against her back, leaving her flightless once more. Not that she entirely minded needing to be carried by Jon. 

"It's fine," she said distractedly. Before she knew it, she found herself staring again from the new angle as the spray washed over him. She leaned toward him, folding her arms on his chest and laying her chin atop her crossed forearms. The warm water didn't drench her, magically parting on either side of her as the run-off rushed down his chest. Her upturned face wore a coy, engrossed smile. 

Jon tilted his head back, letting the warm water purge his hair of the residual shampoo and massage his scalp. He was careful to avoid Sylvia as he ribsed- though when he finally looked down at her again, he saw this had been an unnecessary precaution. 

He grinned at her display of magic. "I'll have to remember that next time it rains. You can be my umbrella." He moved his hand up slowly up his chest to squeeze her against the base of his neck and reach over to turn the water off. 

A little breath of relief left Sylvia as the water shut off--not that she was eager for the moment to end, but the spell had been starting to put a strain on her. 

She laughed. "Don't count on it. I can only hold off the water around myself, and even that's only for a few minutes." She couldn't see his face, but looked up anyway. "Feel free to run through pouring rain anytime, though."

"Hah, thank you for the invitation." He said, pushing the curtain aside and stepping out obtothecd tile floor. He set Sylvia on the edge of the porcelain sink and grabbed a towel. "I'll remember that next time you're ridding in my pocket." He flashed her a teasing grin As he dried off. He paused as he got to his shoulders, noticing how she was shivering. 
"C'mere..." He set the towel down behind her and scooped her up along with it, cradling her against his chest with one arm as he sprawled out on his half made bed. 

Jostled, she leaned into him and gripped a handful of the fabric behind her for security as he lowered himself onto the mattress. When he was settled, she raised her head, snug between his pec and the towel.

She chuckled. "You're not falling asleep, are you?"
No longer shivering, she squirmed forward to sit up on her knees. She wrestled with the edge of the towel to dry herself more throughly. The fabric was thicker and more cumbersome than the makeshift washcloth towels she was used to. 

He scoffed gently. "No, I'm definitely awake after that." 

Jon tilted his head down to watch her move around.. The simple, thoughtless movements she made that were irrevocably hers. She got this adorable little concentrating frown on her face when she was focusing on utilizing the giant towel most efficiently. 

"You know... No matter what happens or how much time passes.." Jon spoke up, inspired by some invisible muse. "You'll always be the most amazing thing I've ever seen."

She blinked as she raised her eyes. It was boggling to hear such tenderness toward her attempt to use the towel. If anything, she felt silly doing it. Certainly not amazing.
A laugh shook her chest, tapering off in a playful groan. "Oh, you're making fun of me, aren't you?" she accused, throwing the corner of the towel over her head as her face turned a light shade of pink.

"No!" Jon said, cursing the fact that there was still a smile on his face and laughter laced into his voice. "I mean it. I love you." 

He felt her movement slow a bit, and he held still so she could seek out his gaze from within her burrow. 

The words never failed to bring a pleasant fluttering in her rib cage. Me. He loves me.

A softened look graced Sylvia's eyes despite an attempt to seem aloof. "I know." She stayed half-concealed under the towel as she kissed her palm and laid it on his chest lovingly. "Doesn't change that you're still laughing." She retreated deeper beneath the towel, deliberately digging her fingers into his bare skin as she scooted back.

"H-hey!" More involuntary laughter tremored beneath her. Her minuscule fingertips clutched at his skin and sent pleasant shivers up his spine. "That's your fault, anyway." Jon continued, arching an eyebrow as he pinched an edge of the towel and hoisted it high enough that he could see her in the shadows within. "Kind of hard to hide ona human, Sylv." 

"I'm not hiding," she scoffed, making little attempt to hide her smile as she got to her feet. "I was trying to find a dry spot on the towel. So give it!" Though there was plenty of towel behind her, she went for the portion Jon held. Her wings still felt flimsy, but she managed to flutter up long enough to grasp and tug at the fabric between his fingers.

Jon grinned, easily overpowering her without moving a muscle. Though he was ever careful, he didn't want to let her off that easily this time around. 

"Come on then," he goaded her. "You can do better than that."

Laughing breathlessly, she pulled with all her might. "You--bully!" After a few more sharp tugs, she conceded there was no way the towel was budging. Her wings stopped flitting, leaving her dangling by her arms.

Her forming pout became an impish smile as she pulled herself higher. "Alright, but you asked for it--" She slammed her hand on his fingertip, sending a sharp spike a cold through his skin.

 
"Dammit!" Jon gasped, releasing both her and the towel as he wrung out his chilled hand. They both landed with a soft thud on his chest. Most of the cold had disappeared, but his bones still tingled with the aftershock of the spell. "You'd think I would be immune to that trick by now." 

His cell phone buzzed on the bedside table. He reached over with one arm, and once seeing it was cliff, he answered. 

"Hey, you get that golden glow yet?" As Sylvia started to get up, Jon rested his other arm on top of her-just enough to pin her down. 

"Oomph!" Sylvia lifted her head after she was sprawled facedown. She squirmed to free herself, but with the precise weight of Jon's arm on her back, she quickly realized she wasn't going anywhere unless he decided she could. "Cliff, Jon's being mean!" she shouted as far as her voice could carry, directing it mostly towards Jon since she doubted Cliff would make out what she was saying even if he heard her.

"...bringing some cold brews down To the room with me. Order some pizza, maybe? I just can't take another night of top ramen." 

Jon looked down at her with a grin. He shifted his arm off her so she could breath better and stroked her wet hair repeatedly with the tip of a finger. 
"Sure, yeah. Pizza sounds good. Sylvia says 'hi' by the way." 
Cliff gave a short laugh. "Uh-huh... Well do me a favor and get all that kinky stuff out of your systems before I get there."
Jon smiled and hung up the phone, scrolling through to look for a local pizzeria. 

"Pizza night." He announced to her. 

She fought the urge to shut her eyes dreamily and lean into his touch, not wanting to give him the idea that she would automatically melt under his gentle stroking every time. The mention of food, however, made her face light up whether she wanted it to or not.

"Please, anything but 'meat lovers'," she said. "Getting the stuff off the top is easy, but you know how stressful it is having to check under the cheese of every single bite?"

Jon chuckled, but it was more of a sympathetic noise this time. 
"How about stuffed crust instead?" He offered with a knowing look. All at once, the expanse of his body shifted and juddered beneath her. He set her down on the warm crater he had left on the sheets and pulled out her ziploc Baggie of dry clothes for her to change into. He soared over her at his full height. A plain black tee shirt replaced bare skin, and he grabbed a pair of loose flannel pants to change into in the bathroom. 

As Jon disappeared through the door, Sylvia pulled out a fresh tank top and the softest set of capris she used for sleeping. She peeled off the damp, clingy clothes and changed fast, already feeling the chill of the air conditioning without Jon's proximity. After leaving the wet clothes on the windowsill to dry, she fluttered back to the bed and landed amongst the folds of the towel. 

She gripped a fold with both hands and tugged it up dry her hair enough that it at least would stop dripping.
"I think I'm getting the hang of this," she announced with a proud grin as Jon emerged.

"Not bad!" He smiled and took a seat carefully next to her. His legs were happy for the rest today; sprinting while on a hunt gave him a rush, but afterwards all that was left was soreness. After calling in the pizza, he set the phone aside and pulled his laptop onto his bed. 

"Alight... So these are the movies I have," he said, pulling up a screen. "I think you've see most of those though. We can rent one." 

He pulled up a clean looking website. Meaning he was actually going to pay for it this time without hacking. He started to scroll through new releases- though he had to bite back a smirk when he saw the cover for the children's film called Fairytopia. 

"Wow," he chortled, glancing down at Sylvia. 

She let out a short, mortified laugh. "I was going to ask for us to watch something scary, but I think that's taking it too far. I wouldn't be able to sleep." 

Crawling over the small hills of the towel to reach the laptop's arrow keys, she scrolled down in search of anything labeled as horror--and to get the colorful poster off the screen. "There," she said approvingly. "The Shining. Haven't seen that one."

"Seriously? We get a night off of hunting, and you wanna watch a psychological horror movie?" He said, amused. There was something alluring and adorable in the look she shot him. HIs fingers were already typing in the purchase code. "I don't know, I'm still partial to that Fairytopia flick.."

A key jostled in the lock within the opening sequence. A six pack of beer in one hand and the car keys in the other, Cliff strode in and immediately went for the table. 

"Everybody drives ten miles below the speed limit in this town.." He complained bluntly. "A bunch of old ladies running this shindig.." Popping open a beer, he took a nice long sip. "What are we watching?" 

"The Shining," Sylvia answered more cheerfully than the movie's theme would call for. But taking the night off and curling up against Jon for the evening put her an irreversible good mood. 

She once hadn't understood why humans would scare themselves on purpose with horror films. Now, there was something about watching them that she simply found fascinating--the thrill of being scared while knowing it couldn't hurt her. The knowledge didn't stop her from hiding her face and squeaking in fear whenever she watched one. It was fun.

Cliff lowered the bottle from his lips and opened another for Jon. 

"Good flick." He hummed, coming over and sitting down next to him- careful to avoid the towel Sylvia claimed. "I just hope your crazy's not contagious." 

He didn't ask about the couple's inexplicable good spirits. He didn't need to; judging by that dopey smile Jon was wearing, he had gotten busy with her in whatever way they usually did. He didn't ask for the details. 

The movie began, ominous cues already lining up. Jon causally reached over to Sylvia, his strong fingers lacing under her wings. The tug was slow, a wanting that she was about to be picked up. He set her on his lap, knowing the laptop screen was plenty large enough for her to see. He gave her a gentle squeeze against his abdomen and tried to focus on the screen. 

Sylvia had no qualms about her new seating, leaning into Jon without batting an eyelash. As the movie progressed, she was grateful to be in his grasp. She unconsciously clutched at his index finger as the build up became more obvious. 

A knock startled her. She pretended Jon hadn't felt her flinch, ducking out of sight as Cliff went to get the door. Before long the scent of pizza wafted into the room, and the sound of the door shutting signaled her she could come out.

"Aw come on, no sausage?" Cliff muttered dejectedly when he opened the pizza box. He didn't need to ask who had influenced the choice. They rearranged their seating so Jon could balance a plate of pizza on one leg. Cliff helped himself to the ziploc Baggie of doll dishes out of Jon's duffle, bringing out a tiny sliver of cheese pizza, and a torn piece of stuffed crust.

"Gormuet, Pizza Hut." He grinned as she made a little face at him. 

"Please," she scoffed, accepting the pink plate balanced on the pad of Cliff's finger. She tore the crust and pizza into even more manageable pieces, the way only someone her size could do it. "As if I'm picky or something."

She stayed on Jon's unoccupied leg, scooting closer to his knee so the sounds of him eating would be less distracting. Laying the plate in front of her, she shifted onto her stomach and ate propped up on her elbows, ankles crossed. She became engrossed with the screen again. Before she knew it, she was reaching onto an empty plate. 

With her stomach full, she grew drowsy, resting her chin on her folded arms. Her eyes would slide shut for what felt like a moment, only to snap open again at the sound of startling music from the movie. After a few times of dozing off, her heavy eyelids had a hard time rising even when screams poured from the laptop. 

Some time later, Jon took the little plate away and passed it off to Cliff. 
"I don't wanna move." Jon said quietly. "Afraid I'll wake her." 
Cliff hummed in reply, getting up to put the leftover slices of pizza in the fridge. "She's pretty adorable when she off for the night." He mused in agreement. Before long, the movie was finished and the hunters were shifting places to get settled in for the night. 

Jon considered himself pretty good when it came to handling fairies; dating Sylvia had given him plenty of practice. But it was still a task that demanded his full attention. Too many minuscule bones and joints to be shattered if he was distracted. He gingerly gathered Sylvia up in a cupped hand, holding her as steady as possible as he transitioned to lay down under the sheets. 

Even in the dark, he could see her beautiful face, expressionless as she dozed closer to dreams. Jon smiled and kissed her cheek in a silent "goodnight" gesture. 

Her steady breathing paused and she stirred as his lips touched her. Eyes fluttering open, she found darkness instead of the laptop screen. 
She chuckled groggily, eyelids threatening to shut again. "Sorry," she murmured, fighting a yawn. "I swore I only closed my eyes for a second."

Jon pulled the sheets up for her and got comfortable on the pillow next to her, laughing quietly. 

"You're still the only person I know who can fall asleep during the Shining." He commented fondly. The pillow shook a tiny hit as he turned to face her again.

She waited until the soft surface settled again before moving closer to the edge of her pillow, closer to Jon. 
"I guess swimming really took it out of me," she said, smiling sleepily. She nestled warmly under the sheets, her eyelids drooping shut when she was content. "We need more days like this."

"Mm. You said it." Jon tucked an arm around her general position on the pillow and let his eyes flutter shut. 
Sharing Steam
Half steamy, half cute fluff ;) just a one shot! Busy week with a midterm tomorrow but wanted to post this quick before I got back to studying.  

cowritten by :iconkimgreenday: (Sylvia) , Jon and Cliff (me)  
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Obsess-Confess
Little Miss Maggie
Artist | Student | Varied
United States
:iconrequestsopen: :icontradesopen:
Finally uploaded a pic of myself!
I'm a college student, majoring in character animation. My dream is to work at Pixar Animation Studios.
I love to draw people. The human body is a master piece in and of itself. I don't have a lot of my serious art on this account, but that might change.
I gravitate towards romantic subjects, or very emotional things. I like feeling something when I create. In a weird way, the mood of the piece possesses me while I make it.
I love art, writing, and discovering new ideas. I'm always up for a GT roleplay, or doing sketch trades.
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:iconphoenix-firemage:
Phoenix-FireMage Featured By Owner Oct 8, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Guess what?
Tonight, I was at the library. While I was in the movies section, not even looking for it, I saw the Supernatural series. I am finding this show at every corner!
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:iconobsess-confess:
Obsess-Confess Featured By Owner Oct 9, 2014  Student General Artist
:D sweet~
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:iconphoenix-firemage:
Phoenix-FireMage Featured By Owner Oct 9, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Yeah...
I've watched the first four episodes now. The first one was the scariest so far, I think...
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:iconobsess-confess:
Obsess-Confess Featured By Owner Oct 10, 2014  Student General Artist
Yep. The first couple seasons are more horror-oriented. 
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(1 Reply)
:iconcanis5lupis:
Canis5lupis Featured By Owner Oct 1, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
YOU'VE BEEN HUGGED!!
Spread the DA love around! (You can copy and paste this message on their user page!) 
RULES: 
1- You can hug the person that hugged you!
2- You -MUST- hug 10 other people, at least!
3- You should hug them in public! Paste it on their page!
4- Random hugs are perfectly okay! (and sweet)
5- You should most definitely get started hugging right away!
Send This To All Your Friends, And Me If I Am 1.
If You Get 7 Back You Are Loved!
1-3 You're a bad friend
4-6 You're an ok friend
7-9 You're a good friend
10-& Up You're loved with multiple of the hugger
Reply
:iconobsess-confess:
Obsess-Confess Featured By Owner Oct 1, 2014  Student General Artist
Thank you for the hug! :)
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:iconcanis5lupis:
Canis5lupis Featured By Owner Oct 1, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
You are most welcome!
Reply
:iconmicronekogirlpur:
MicroNekoGirlPur Featured By Owner Sep 27, 2014  Hobbyist Artist
YOU'VE BEEN HUGGED!!
Spread the DA love around! (you can copy and paste this message on their use rpage!) 
RULES: 
1- You can hug the person that hugged you!
2- You -MUST- hug 10 other people, at least!
3- You should hug them in public! Paste it on their page!
4- Random hugs are perfectly okay! (and sweet)
5- You should most definitely get started hugging right away!
Send This To All Your Friends, And Me If I Am 1.
If You Get 7 Back You Are Loved!
1-3 you're a bad friend
4-6 you're an ok friend
7-9 you're a good friend
10-& Up you're loved with multiple of the hugger )
Reply
:iconxmas45:
xmas45 Featured By Owner Sep 26, 2014  Hobbyist Artist
You ever thought of doing
something with a black giant and a little white guy?
Reply
:iconobsess-confess:
Obsess-Confess Featured By Owner Sep 27, 2014  Student General Artist
No the thought hasn't crossed my mind. You're welcome to pursue that. 
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