Dirty Pleasures

Characters: Shae Bentley Shacklebolt; Amelia "Diamond" Weasley
Scenario: After their tiff in the Savannah, Bentley has a directive to apologize. Even if he still is confused on what it was about in the first place.

The work was shit, everyone knew it. He'd rushed through it in a way that his colleagues knew wasn't like him. He knew it wasn't like him. Only he kept repeating their fight over and over. He tried to analyze what happened, what had caused her to leave-- what he'd said or done. Nothing made any sense, they'd been joking and teasing and then arguing over his mum?

One of the girl's had told him to go after her, giving him some sort of significant look which Bentley had just stared at her about. He had decided to take the girl's advice though--finishing the work to its shitty completeness knowing he'd be more upset if he didn't fix whatever it was with Diamond- Amelia instead.

She had mentioned Monaco, he vaguely remembered a preferred hotel name, hoping beyond a prayer that she was- had- gone where she said she was going.

After some serious language barriers with the receptionist Bentley finally seemed to get the man to understand he was looking for someone. And after some more arguing and gesturing and finally writing down the name, the man's head bobbed excitedly in a nod giving a room number and...something else but Bentley didn't speak French.

As he stood outside the door, he kind of felt like a cad. Wasn't he supposed to have a 'forgive me' gift?

Characters: Damian Montague; Verity Montague
Scenario: Astin has been born recently. All prior Charlie/Verity backstory is true and happened.


It was late. He couldn't sleep. He knew, somewhere, it was because this was new to him. He hated that it was; hated that he had three other children but this, this was new to him. Like he was a new father even as the twins were nearly four years old, that Marlowe was reaching Hogwarts age. His eldest being ten, going on eleven.

It still didn't change the fact; he had never had a newborn. Marlowe had been adopted at the age of six, they hadn't had to deal with even the toddler years for him. Something that Verity liked to jokingly say had been practice for the others. Like easing into parent-hood.

For her perhaps.

The twins...he'd been in a coma till they were nearly a year old. He met them when they were already crawling, nearly talking...

Slipping into the nursery he swallowed almost nervously as he quietly headed for the crib. He'd never seen...held his newborn. Not until now, not until Sebastian. It made him long for a chance to go back, see them all, hold them all...

His hand reached down, softly into the blue padded crib; he was so tiny. Astin had been a month early. His father's death, the stress of everything going on... Verity'd gone into labor early. He looked so... small when they'd managed to produce the weak baby. Weak and yet so strong.

Montague's lips curved in a silent chuckle. The boy had had a set of lungs on him. The healer had said that that was good. That most preemies lungs were the one worrying factor, that they wouldn't be developed. Astin's obviously had been.

He didn't want to wake the baby, and yet, Montague felt, ached to hold him. They, the healers, they'd kept him for a while, in the Hospital. Sure he had a set of lungs, but he was still nearly a month early... They'd let Verity hold him multiple times; they'd spent most of their time there, in the Hospital; the mediwitches, they'd let Verity hold him, feed him. Montague was glad.

But he'd barely had the chance. Their miracle baby...

Montague couldn't help it, a finger brushed the soft velvety skin of his son's cheek, smiling as Sebastian moved his head towards the brush, sucking in his cheeks. He almost looked like he could hold him in one hand... so small.

Looking around, afterwards thinking how ridiculous he was acting, Montague reached in, almost shaking with nervousness; one hand moving to support the tiny head, the small body. Not quite in one hand but nearly.

He'd held the others, even his sister when she'd been just an infant; but Sebastian? He was so small, he felt like he'd break... his hand reached up, brushing Astin's cheek again with his thumb. This time his small brow scrunched together and the baby yawned, eyes fluttering open. Beautiful dark blue eyes. Montague beamed, chest filling with warmth as he looked down in the widening eyes.

"Hi..." he whispered, unsure of why, but the moment seemed so empyreal, he didn't want to break it.

Characters: Anna Benitti; Silas O'Shea
Scenario: Anna and Silas go out to a club to have fun. Anna is currently engaged to Fredrick.


She was beaming. She felt good. Sexy. Spinning around in one quick turn, letting the dress' skirt flutter, her hands coming up to her open skin, her fingers tested the hems, made sure they were still in place. Good. They were. Modesty was assured.

Sucking in both her lips, teeth scrapping as it came slowly came undone she knocked again, giving a purposeful loud, over-exaggerated sigh. "Siiillas. We'll be late! I want to dance!" Fredrick was gone on business and it was supposed to be his job as Best Man to keep her entertained while her fiance was gone.

"Unless your naked in there I'm coming in at the count of three!" Anna's voice called out almost sing-songy, grinning widely. He should have known better then to promise her dancing. She missed dancing. Club dancing at least. Fredrick didn't like to go very often. He was going to be her outlet.

"One..." She began to count, voice still high, obnoxiously melodic.

Characters: Charlie Weasley; Verity Montague
Scenario: They have just woken up from getting back from their tattoo's.


His mouth felt like it was full of cotton and his eyes burned with a light he wasn't to presently pleased with; trying to roll over there was a body holding back his arm and he groaned turning towards it. At least the mattress was comfortable.

His arm ran around the smooth paper-thin like skin, grasping the naked waist of whomever he was with, his lips moving to the open neck, eyes not open, in fact, tightly shut to keep from seeing the light. That's when he felt it. Something on his wrist moved.

Jumping nearly away from the body his eyes opened and Charlie hissed. The light hurt more then he'd expected. Trying to focus he pulled his wrist up to his eyes, close, almost glaring, trying to see what it was. A snake. A fucking green snake was flicking its tongue at him. Okay that wasn't so bad... weird, but not bad...

Wait...

It was....

Charlie's eyes blinked blearly. It was spelling something out in elegant script. Veritas.

Veritas?

And then his stomach dropped looked at the body. Verity. Okay- fuck. Fuck. Fuck... And what was that on her neck?

Characters: Shae Bentley Shacklebolt; Amelia "Diamond" Weasley
Scenario: Bentley takes Diamond on an assignment with him in the African safari because she complained he never took her anywhere. You can determine if they are in a relationship or not.


He pulled his cotton polo over his head, the material open and aerated, the sandy color all working to help him keep cool in the scorching Savannah heat. One corner got caught in his sagging denims that he pulled and smoothed out before turning around, looking in a frantic but eased motion around the tent. He ignored the body laying on the low cot, his lips pursing together as his pale eyes still swam looking for a particular object.

Pursing his lips, he stopped moving, his head rocking from side to side as he tried to go over something in his mind, as if running through events in his head before a light seemed to shine from his face. "Ah ha!" He grinned and dove down, reaching under a pile of thrown clothes grinning as a heavy black bag came up, clothes slipping from its sides as he pulled it up to a small table.

Carefully, quietly, unzipping the top flap he pulled out a camera with an almost delicate care, his hands worshipful in how he removed one lens and attached another. Long fingers sliding over the mechanical object he then carefully slipped the strap over his neck, moving to take the bag and sling it across one shoulder and rest diagonally on the opposing hip.

Nearly ready. Sitting on the open cot, Shae Bentley bent over and pulled on the boots, tan and solid, perfect for trekking in this sort of terrain. Leaving them unlaced he stood again, going over to grab a hat, a ridiculous present from his brother. He looked nothing less then a prat in the hat, but he loved it. Putting the safari hat on, he moved back to lace up his boots, careful with his camera, letting it sit gingerly on his thigh.

Once laced up, Bentley stood, tipped his hat down over his curls and grinned lazy, putting fisted hands on his hips, fairly certain he was ready for his day.

They'd been gone a week. His day had turned into two and then three, and soon he had not been able to leave. He'd never been particularly connected or attached to America, and yet, he could not seem to leave her. Even though she had agreed to leave with him, they'd both seemingly drug their feet at doing such a thing until it could not be avoided any longer. He was the heir and the eldest. There was little doubt the worry his mother felt, or the panic his sister was experiencing.

And yet- as he turned to her smiling softly, brushing her cheek with a soft touch; he would do nothing differently. In the last week, she became his light. He would have to ask his mother for the ring soon...

Leaning in to kiss Athena softly, their eyes meeting once again, he loved the infinite knowledge he saw in her gaze, the beauty internal from her blue eyes. "If you are ready my Nena?" He said quietly, brushing her skin with gentle fingers once again. The heavy Italian heat was in the air, but he did not want to pressure her into the house yet, he was perfectly content keeping her to himself for the next few moments, forever if she'd prefer.

Verity was cold, she was shivering in the rain and the harsh wind. Why was she here? She kept asking herself over and over again. Her hand raised to knock on the wood of the door multiple times but she never could bring herself to do it. She kept replaying the scene in her head again and again, each time it paralyzed her more. Charles was furious- disgusted- she'd made a huge mistake. She cleaned up after herself, that wasn't going to be a problem, but she was still left with the gaping hole the incident had caused her.

And what had she done? After letting Charles destroy her, she showed up here- to the only other man who knew what she'd told? To the other man who had destroyed her? As the rain pelted down on her and she asked herself the never-ending flow of questions, one truth seemed to rise above the others.

The pain Charles had caused her didn't compare to what Westley had done- and Charles had tried so much harder to hurt her... but he'd never meant to her what Westley did, what Westley always had and always would.

So here she was, on his porch in the freezing rain, sitting against the house without the strength to even admit to him that she'd come. How could she explain that he was the first person she'd thought of when Charles had spurned her? How could she tell him why she was here- did she even know herself.

Unconciously she shrank from the light that suddenly spilled onto the porch, hurting her eyes.

She smiled softly up at him, arching up to him as if drawn by marionette strings of pleasure to his capable body. The small moan died in the back of her throat but her body hummed for him. The silken sheets below her seemed almost too soft, too indulgent coupled with the edge he was driving her too so gently- so torturingly.

A small part of her mind detached, wandered back, trying to make sense of how she had ended up here, in this bed, with this man. It almost seemed ochestrated by some stronger for than she was aware of. Why Charles? She'd never considered it in all of her years... But here she was, laying below him, nearing the point of begging as he teased, carressed, and refused to give her what she needed. It was a game that he was effortless at and one that she certainly didn't mind playing.

When his lips fell to her bare shoulder in a soft kiss she turned her head, nuzzling him lightly before taking his lobe in between her teeth gently.

Dear Mister Montague,

Dear Montague,

Dear Damian,

Damian Montague,

Damian,

I am sure that you can imagine it is with the greatest regret that I find myself actually writing to you. I assure you that if the issue at hand wasn't important, I wouldn't be bothering either of us.

I can't believe I'm actually telling you instead of just taking care of it on my own. What am I thinking?

It seems that despite our best efforts to stay as far away from each other as possible, I have found myself in a bit of a situation.

I'm pregnant

I'm with child

You fucking arse couldn't just keep your hands away from me, could you? Now what the hell are we supposed to do?! If you could have excercised a small amount of self-control maybe we wouldn't be in this situation!

Congratulations, I'm pregnant. I also have a potion. I haven't yet decided what I will be doing about the situation. What woujld you prefer? What do you want me to do? I will update you when I have decided.

I'm scared.

What are we going to do?

We hate each other!

We can't raise a child.

But we're married... you need an heir. I need an heir. I hate this.

Regards,
Verity O'Shea

Malcolm bite his lip and looked around again. This was just getting ridiculous. He was getting better, but he still got lost, much too often. This time, at least, he knew he was in the northern area of the house... Not that that allayed his fears. The northern section was near Kilea's parents. He'd been trying to avoid them at all costs, especially her father.

Her mum wasn't so bad, they didn't really talk, but she didn't seem to hate him; just, ignored him mostly.

The hall seemed to go on forever but then he saw a body near the end, looked kinda like Kilea... He opened his mouth to call out to her, his lips curling in a small smile, glad it was her he ran into.

Rushing a little, he didn't want her to turn down some hall and then loose sight of her or where she could be going (and thus lose the ability to get himself unlost); "Kies- I'm so glad I found you, baby." He said smiling, moving closer, realizing she looked different from this angle, wait no- just her robes. "And someone is looking fox...y..."

That wasn't Kilea.

His files were in the study. In the study where his wife could be. His wife that he wasn't speaking too, nor sleeping with, nor seeing in general. He shouldn't have been avoiding her, staying at the house on the lake, taking meetings at the client's instead of on his territory.

Only- they were both still very much too angry. That much he could feel through their bond. Some of the things he'd said- they were out of line- he knew; but he still felt them. In his heart, in his soul. They had made up, returned to their life... It had taken years, but they'd done it; although for all their doing so his fears had never been allayed.

Three months of his unconsciousness and she'd given up. Three months and she'd returned back to a Weasley's bed. Another man was bad enough- but it was as if she had this...attraction to them that he could not win against. And now it had passed to their daughter.

She was having a Weasley's child.

Ninnie seemed excited to have him back in the Estate even as he tried to tell her he wasn't staying; she was telling him that Mistress was upset and that he should talk to her. Montague only glared as he worked his way to the study.

They'd talk when they had too, when Kilea gave birth.

He bit his tongue nervously, he'd only been here a week. The house was fugging huge! He hadn't even figured thing out yet. Rooms, wings, wards, whatever- its was all just- weird. He missed home, he missed his dad, he missed his room. Not the strange three-room-almost-house-in-of-itself room. It wasn't just that- he missed knowing what people were saying, and missed the cool English air. It was June and bloody hot.

He didn't show any of it though- he'd asked for this. Nearly begged for it. He'd live with it; he'd endured Mr Montague's hatred, Mrs Montague's avoidance, and Caiden's belittling; and he'd continue too. Mars was worth it. Kilea was worth it. He'd figure everything out; hell, maybe he'd eventually fit in better here then with his family...

Malcolm rubbed the back of his neck at that; he didn't dwell on that sort of stuff. Instead, he needed to figure out how to get to the informal dining room from...well, wherever he was. He was in a wing, or hall, or yea- whatever- he didn't recognize. But he swore... Malcolm looked behind him, scratching his head. He swore he'd just been supposed to turn left from that one statue.

Drumming his fingers on the side of his head he looked around again, still chewing on his lip as he thought. The window at the end of the hall looked sorta familiar.... Heading towards it there was a hall to the left, shrugging mentally he turned to try that one, what could it hurt? He'd eventually get totally lost and someone would find him or he'd find his way back to somewhere he did recognize.

Athena wasn't sure how she felt about being here tonight. She was feeling prickly, to say the least, which really didn't make for a great socializer. But Father had insisted she get out and meeting some people her own age instead of staying inside all day long or only communing with the horses. So here she was. Of course, she knew she didn't seem approachable, but she didn't mind. She'd stay, have a couple of drinks, and then slip out, perhaps visit the muggle section of town and catch a movie. Then she will have appeased her father and not found a total waste to the evening.

She was going over her plan with some enjoyment and accidentally allowed a smile onto her face. Unfortunately, for all of her well breeding and training as a deb, she had a terrible time of paying attention and as she sipped her martini she also ran into someone. Athena mentally groaned but verbally apologised.