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dudeandduchess · 4 years

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Cooking with Kyōjurō: Crème Caramel (Kyōjurō x F!S/O, Modern AU, SFW Scenario)

Summary: While his wife was out, Kyōjurō tried to take matters into his own hands and made crème caramel to surprise her and their daughter. Only, things didn’t turn out as he expected. To make him feel better, his wife took him grocery shopping— willingly, that time. Note: Enjoy, bbys. This was really cathartic to write since I’ve been having so much baby fever as of late. 😌🍉 Word Count: 2,830

***

The moment that (Y/n) entered the house, she immediately knew that something wasn’t right. It wasn’t the blaring music from the kitchen that clued her in to whatever was happening, but it was the silence that accompanied it which had her feeling so unsettled.

Because, usually, the loud music would be accompanied by her husband’s own (horrible) rendition of the sound— just him belting out whichever lyrics that came to mind, while he moved around in the kitchen. But, at that moment, it was too silent for her liking.

So, the young woman looked down at her daughter and readjusted her grip on the toddler’s hand— then put down the paper bags that had all of the clothes she’d gotten for Ran at the mall.

“Mama? What’s wrong?” The little girl asked softly, all while tilting her head up at her mother— whom wasn’t even sure what to answer.

So, (Y/n) forced a smile onto her lips, before shrugging. “We’re just going to surprise papa. So shh.”

Slowly, the mother-daughter pair crept up to the entryway to the kitchen, keeping themselves as quiet as possible as (Y/n) carefully peered around the wall; only to see Kyōjurō at the counter.

Seeing him there wouldn’t have been alarming in and of itself, but the sight of him with his hands cradling his face— as if he’d done something so despicably unbelievable— had his wife rushing over to him with their daughter in tow.

“Kyōjurō! What’s wrong?” (Y/n) asked, worry coloring her tone as she shook her husband’s left shoulder— while Ran got up on the stool right next to her father and tried to hug him as best as she could.

The little girl’s eyes wandered to get a clue of what had made her father sad, and landed right on the array of puffy, gelatin-custard hybrids which were upturned on four different plates.

“Oh, papa made steamed eggs.”

Kyōjurō actually whimpered at that, letting it taper into a quiet sigh as he let more of his disappointment sink in. Even his daughter thought that he’d made steamed eggs.

(Y/n)’s eyes darted over to where Ran was pointing at, lowering her hand down to the blond’s bicep and rubbing it up and down to comfort him. Clearly, it wasn’t steamed eggs— and it wasn’t the Korean variant of Chawanmushi— all because of the lack of vegetables, plus the dark sauce on the top… which suspiciously smelled like caramel. “Oh, baby…”

At her words, Kyōjurō slid both of his hands off his face; readjusting himself so he could pull Ran into his lap. He then pressed a kiss to the top of the little girl’s head, before turning to his wife and leaning in to peck her lips. “I was trying to make crème caramel for you, since you said you were craving for it.”

Panic set in to (Y/n)’s chest, as she resisted the urge to go through her stash of vanilla beans— yet she knew, she just knew, that she would find only one or two bean stalks the jar, instead of the six she’d been saving to use for the ice cream that Ran liked.

She wanted to be mad at him, especially since the closer she looked at the failed crème caramels, the more that she saw the vanilla bean seeds that were dotted all over the puffy messes.

“I don’t get what I did wrong,” Kyōjurō whispered, taking to having his daughter play around with his right hand— pulling his fingers apart and bending them into odd positions.

“Papa’s making a bad finger,” The little girl giggled, as her parents looked down at what she was doing— holding down her father’s fingers with her thumbs, all of them save for his middle finger.

Instead of lecturing his daughter about how that wasn’t appropriate, the blond only laughed before squeezing her into a one-armed hug. “Ah, Ran-chan, you’re too adorable.”

As much as (Y/n) was against their daughter knowing such a thing, she couldn’t put a damper on the identical grins on her husband’s and daughter’s faces. So, she let that one incident slide.

Her gaze flitted back to the supposed desserts on the counter, mentally doing the ingredients that her husband must have gone through, and sighed. “We’re out of eggs, flour, and milk, aren’t we?”

The grin on the blond’s face turned sheepish then, as he perched his chin on top of Ran’s head. “Yes.”

***

No matter what, Rengoku Kyōjurō loved basking in the simple pleasures of life; namely spending time with his family, and getting to cook such nice food on a daily basis. So, to have one of those things somewhat combined with the other had him almost jumping in his seat, as he drove all the way to the store.

Meanwhile, in the back, Ran was singing and dancing in her seat to the Doraemon theme song— with Kyōjurō joining in as enthusiastically as he could.

“An an an, tottemo daisuki,” The blond grinned over at his wife, taking one hand off the wheel and motioning over to her— before stringing her name out in the most obnoxious rendition of the song. “(Y/n).”

(Y/n) swatted his hand away, all while giggling at his childish antics. It was as if he hadn’t accidentally ended up with steamed eggs instead of a custard dessert earlier.

“Alright, let’s set some rules before we get there,” The young woman turned to look at their daughter in the back— whose attention had snapped over to her— then over at her husband, whom had lowered his hand and placed it on her thigh. “No playing hide and seek, or tag, or any other game.”

That was said more for Kyōjurō than Ran, but he acted as if he hadn’t been banned from going grocery shopping with them after what had happened the last time he went with them. “We promise.”

“And no asking your papa to buy you more toys, Ran.” (Y/n) pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, going back to the time when Kyōjurō had used his own membership card to—secretly— purchase the mini electric BMW X6 for their daughter.

They had made their move while she had been busy looking at possible plates to switch out the ones they had at home— and it was safe to say that she was mad at the forty-thousand Yen purchase; all because Ran had wanted to ‘drive papa’s car’.

So, the man had gotten her the mini version of his car— in the same shade of red too— much to his wife’s dismay.

“Are we there yet, mama?”

“Not yet, sweetheart.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

***

Once they got to the store, Kyōjurō had dropped (Y/n) and Ran off by the main entrance before parking the car, so that they wouldn’t have had to walk— as was habit for the three of them when they all went out.

Ran almost looked every inch of an impatient child, while she waited with her hands on her hips— swaying from side to side to entertain herself as they waited for her father. And when she saw him, it was as if he had been gone for a year instead of a few minutes, what with the way the little girl waved her arms above her head and called out, “Over here, papa! We’re here!”

A grin instantly made its way onto Kyōjurō’s face, widening even more when he saw his daughter start blowing him kisses from where she stood beside (Y/n).

He then crossed the street— with more pep in his step than before— and swooped down to pick his little angel up in his arms; spinning around in a circle, even as he felt his back protest at how much heavier she had been getting.

“Ahh! You’re getting so much heavier, sugar plum.”

At her father’s teasing words, which had been uttered with an exaggerated wince, Ran pressed both of her hands against his cheeks— squeezing them tight as she pouted at him. “That’s mean, papa. Mama said that it’s rude to talk about someone’s we... w... how heavy they are.”

“Their weight?” Kyōjurō asked, albeit a bit muffled since his child was still squeezing his cheeks tightly. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

Ran nodded adamantly at that, then leaned up to kiss the tip of her father’s nose. “I forgive you because I love you.”

(Y/n) resisted the urge to gush over how cute her daughter was, as she had caught the tail end of their conversation after having gotten a shopping cart. But she couldn’t hold back the smile that tugged up at the corners of her lips. “If you two are done being all lovey-dovey there...”

Both father and daughter laughed at that, as Kyōjurō set Ran down on the ground and held on to her hand. He would have pushed the cart around, if he didn’t know just how much his wife loved doing that— add in the fact that he wanted to slink away from her so he could get his own snacks.

Because, knowing her, she would put a cap on his snack buying.

With all three of them set, they went inside the store and steadily made their way through (Y/n)’s list— with Ran always wanting to help her mother out in any way she could, which included running over to the shelves and getting things that she normally saw at their house.

Which had gotten awkward when she grabbed a huge bag of mini chocolates; since (Y/n) had been adamant about Kyōjurō not eating anything too unhealthy— for his own sake.

“Why did you get that, sugar plum? We don’t have that at home.” The young man had said with a smile, as he pinched the edge of the bag between his fingers. He tried to pull it out of his daughter’s grasp, only to end up having her hug it even tighter.

“Mama has this in the shoe box in your room. Silly papa.”

The look of betrayal that he shot (Y/n) at finding that out was enough to have her sheepishly smiling and shrugging. “Sorry, baby.”

Immediately, Kyōjurō’s lips turned down at the corners— showing an affronted pout as he reluctantly ushered Ran over to the cart. “Does mama give you chocolate from that box, Ran-chan?”

Ran handed the bag of chocolates over to her mother, then nodded at him. “Mama and I eat it when-”

Before she could say anything more, (Y/n) cupped a hand over her mouth and leaned down to press a kiss to the the top of the little girl’s head. “Papa doesn’t need to know that, sweetheart.”

Definitely, Kyōjurō didn’t need to know that they would snack on the chocolates when he took his afternoon naps— on the days that both of them had the day off. That, or when it was just (Y/n) and Ran at home.

“Oh look, free samples,” (Y/n) blatantly changed the topic, removing her hand from her daughter’s mouth and using the same hand to push her husband’s arm lightly. “Let’s go get some free samples.”

She didn’t even wait for him to answer, merely walked over to push the cart towards the little booth at the end of the aisle. And, thankfully, the girl that was running the booth had greeted them graciously.

Mentally, the Rengoku matriarch apologized to the poor soul that Kyōjurō was going to terrorize.

At first, both Kyōjurō and ran just took two samples each of the cut-up bratwurst— with Ran feeding the other one to her mother with a sweet smile on her face; all while Kyōjurō popped the two portions in his mouth.

Only, the moment all of them chewed on the sample, (Y/n) and Ran adopted pleased smiles on their faces, as Kyōjurō’s expression scrunched up in displeasure.

The wurst had been too spicy for his taste.

He wanted nothing more than to spit the wurst out, but he held back— out of politeness— and forced himself to swallow the samples. Only, the more that he tried to drown out the spicy tingling in his mouth, the worse that it got.

And so, without even saying anything, he raced over to the nearest stack of drinks— which happened to be two-liter bottles of apple juice— and quickly unscrewed the cap off, before downing a considerable amount of its contents.

(Y/n) didn’t even have the chance to stop him, so she resigned herself to most likely getting warned about her husband’s eccentric behavior once they got to the check-out counter.

She pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply— and even deeper— when she heard Ran race over to where her father was. All while calling out, “Papa, I want some juice too!”

There was nothing she could do, other than to accept the fact that her daughter was starting to take more after Kyōjurō, rather than her. And that was a cause for worry, since even she had to admit that her husband was a bit on the unconventional side.

When the pair returned— with Ran carrying a half-empty bottle of apple juice in her arms— (Y/n) made up her mind and grabbed her husband by the shoulders. “Don’t touch anything. Just push the cart.”

To which Ran piped up, “Can I ride the cart now, please?”

In a split-second, the young woman made up her mind and was about to lift her daughter into the shopping cart, when a pair of familiar hands picked her up and set her in with what they’d manage to cross off her grocery list so far.

Ran sat down on an empty spot in the cart, cradling the opened bottle of apple juice in her lap, and grinning up at her father. “Papa, I want some chips too.”

Instantly, both pairs of identically fiery eyes darted over to (Y/n)— silently asking her to let them get a couple of snacks. To which she sighed at, before nodding her head. “Fine. But not a lot.”

And that was how they did the rest of their grocery shopping— with Ran and Kyōjurō firmly staying put at the cart, while munching on a bag of chips, as well as a box of cookies, that they washed down with the apple juice.

It wasn’t the most ideal way to get them to behave, but it was the best solution at that moment.

“Baby,” Kyōjurō began, as he ate the chip that Ran had held up to his face. Then, he swallowed that down before continuing, “You never told me what I did wrong with the crème caramel…”

(Y/n) set down three trays of eggs in the cart, right next to Ran whom patted the top most container with a grin on her lips. “Mama, are you making more steamed eggs?”

That had Kyōjurō’s jaw falling slack, as he looked down in disbelief at his own child. He then turned back to his wife— with a pout marring his features— and asked once more, “What did I do wrong?”

“What did you mix it with?”

“A fork.”

(Y/n) simpered at that, then moved away for a brief while to get some milk from the shelves. And once she set them down by Ran’s feet, she turned back to her husband and asked, “Did you beat it like you would a scrambled egg?”

“…Yes.”

“With custards, it’s better to mix them with spatulas. And aerate them as little as possible.”

Kyōjurō scratched his cheek at that, but leaned down all the same to accept another potato chip from Ran.

“You want more, papa?” The little girl asked through a mouthful of the chips, which had her father grinning as he reached down to wipe away the crumbs that were all over her mouth.

“I’m good, sugar plum. Thank you.” He then turned back to his wife— silent at first as he weighed all the options he had with asking her to help him make the dessert. Yet he still kept pushing the cart behind her— following her around as she put in various ingredients that he didn’t even know they were running low on.

Only, she beat him to the punch by answering, “I’ll get more eggs and milk.”

“How did you even know I was going to ask that?” He asked with a laugh, slightly perplexed that she had managed to pick up on his intentions so easily.

“I’m not your wife for nothing.”

“Oh, you’re going to make more steamed eggs?” Ran asked with a giggle, when her mother set down more milk and eggs next to her, which her father answered by making a crab claw with his left hand and tickling her neck.

Loud peals of laughter colored the air where their little family was, which had people looking over and admiring how cute the father-daughter pair looked as Kyōjurō kept on trying to tickle Ran; all while pushing the cart with one hand.

However, their happiness was put to an abrupt stop when the cart slammed against the side of a display— inevitably knocking down the tower of canned beans in the middle of the store.

“Oh no, we did an oopsie!” Ran cried, completely frantic as her eyes darted over to her wide-eyed father.

And from where she stood a few feet away, (Y/n) buried her face into her hands and prepared herself for a lot of apologizing… and possibly getting banned from that store, as well.

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allyvampirelass29 · 4 years

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The Queen and Victoria

A NOS4A2 Fanfiction By: Allyssa J. Watkins

"Do you love her, Mister Manx?"

Charlie's lip curled with his distaste at Bing's clumsy impertinence, daring to ask such a question.

"What business could it possibly be of yours, Bing, as to whether or not I love the woman I have wed?" He snapped viciously, not bothering to look at the brutish oaf of a man and his slow-spreading, vacant expression.

"Forgive me, Mister Manx, if it not be well and proper to ask, but........ don't you WANT to love the little thing? Isn't that why you stole her in the first place, brought her here to Christmasland? To be your happy missus?"

"Thin ice, Bing, THIN. ICE." Charlie rasped back, his knuckles tightening over the curve of the candy cane's crook, that made up the fencing, and he looked out over the sweeping grounds, blanketed in snow, frowning imperiously, at the too perfect creature, that frustratingly fetching female, that beguiling brunette beauty, his own Mrs. Manx. There she was in all of her glittering red strapless gown glory, her full skirts skittering across the drift, as she reached down, tentatively, to pet one of his skeletal reindeer, seeking an impossibly red apple from a sparse white tree.

Hello, Wife. The question lingers........ even as I look at you. Do I love you, My Sweet? The answer was most alarming, and he said it out loud in a huff.

"Too much........ I love her too much, and it's becoming a problem, Bing. Most disconcerting."

His dark eyes narrowed, as the girl eagerly plucked the succulent red apple from its branch, giggling happy, as she fed it to the deer from her doting little palm. Are you eating out of my hand, My Fawn, or have you right now got me wrapped, tied up in a bow 'round your pesky little finger?

"Problem?" Bing ventured even more cautious, his eyes impossibly wide. "Love's the thing! How can Mrs. Manx be a problem, when she wears your ring?"

Charlie felt his gaze soften, fighting his half smile, as he searched for the ring on her finger, and it glinted in the silvery sunlight. You wear it, for me........ Even on our wedding night, that you wasted, sobbing at my window, huddled against the glass in fear, foolishly thinking I violated your power, when I was kind enough to demonstrate to you its full potential, even then, embroiled in our darkest hour, you never once took it off.......... It has not left your finger, and I know it never will.........

"It may be a champagne problem, Bing, but a problem persists, nonetheless....... Because I hate that I love her this ardent, this despicable depth of feeling is........ unnatural......... I've abhorred every conniving female that has carried with her the name, Mrs. Manx......... Save for this one, thus making my docile dove the most dangerous of them all. I crave her more than even the strongest creative power. In truth, she's more threat to me, my work, than Vic McQueen could ever be........"

He sighed, vexed, leaning over the rows of candy canes, elbows elegantly folded beneath him, a strand of jet black hair working free of his slicked coif. He admired the way her dress shimmered as she walked, and she shivered in the cold, her shoulders bared, and as white as the surrounding snow. Her cheeks chilled, and as red as the apple she'd held in her hand. You tempting little Minx, Mrs. Manx........ Who are you to taste of the forbidden fruit of my love? The Eve to my frosted Eden, what crowns you Queen of Christmasland save that but MY hands?

"Shall I erm, take care of it, Sir? If this Manx Bride does not appease, than Bing must bring a second, and make the first flee........"

Charlie wrinkled his nose, attempting to banish the rising violence incurred by Bing's fool thoughtlessness. "My Boy, if you so much as touch Allyssa Manx, even once, the graveyard of what might be, will then become, your Christmas Present. A Partridge hanging from a pear tree. You gargantuan lump, I am not displeased, but severely the opposite.......... When we love too much, we lose even more. Remember that, Bing."

"Yes Sir, I promise, I won't touch her."

"No. You won't," Charlie finished sharply, turning away as Ally let herself fall back into the drift, defying the cold, making a snow angel. Ohhh must you toy with me so? My Snow Angel, My Porcelain Plaything? What am I going to do with you?

"Ready the Wraith, Bing, I require a distraction, and there is a dear little lad in Hartford that's dreaming of Christmas fun, while his fool parents spend their nights getting drunk. He shall be a special surprise for my young bride, a brand new, adorable son...... The first to greet her when she meets them."

"Uh Boss, do you think it's wise, she meets the little nippers so soon? She only just got here......."

"Why, of COURSE, she must meet them, my GOD, Man, where is your head today?" Charlie chastised, with an indignant scowl, which all too quickly melted into a fond smile. "Those poor motherless souls, are orphans no more......... They have a kind, nurturing, beautiful mother now, and a doting, dare I say, spoiling father. I have done it, Bing, at last....... with my taking a wife, I have given them everything. A queen to rule them, a matron to soothe them. She is my gift to my Found Children, and they are mine to my lucky bride. Christmasland just needed a woman's touch......... As did I........"

Ally had popped up from the drift after leaving her lovely indent, her gown rustling, and she caught sight of her striking husband contrasting dark with the snow, ebony against the white, and her gloved hand raised in a gentle wave.

He fought the handsome grin, and lost, waving regally in return, nodding his raven head forward, in genteel grace. His smile faded however, as Bing pushed forward, far less graceful, wobbling, with an absurd wave of his own.

Ally looked startled at first, and then smiled nervously as she waved back at him too.

"You're not to touch her, Bing, I mean it, not even once. She's too delicate, too pure, to have to entertain the likes of your insufferable company. You may exchange with her, vague niceties in my presence, but otherwise you will spare her your unsettling gaze."

"Yes, Boss. It's not polite to stare at Mister Manx's pretty wife. Bing must stay away, if he wants to stay alive........"

"Good, good. Now prepare the car for my departure." Charlie hopped nimbly over the candy cane fence, and descended towards the lower grounds of the castle. "I must....... tend to my bride......."

"Sure thing, Boss."

Charlie did not so much as glance backward as Bing hunched his shoulders and stalked towards the garage. His eyes were fixed hard on his sweet wife as she had turned to study the very much alive snowmen wreathed, like the reindeer, in glowing, coloured lights.

"My Dear Mrs. Manx, do take care......... the snow creatures can be quite vicious, especially on a warmer winter's afternoon like today. They are, shall we say, temperamental........."

He felt her melt against his leather gloves as he snuck up behind her, taking hold of her near naked, freckled shoulders.

"They seem........ rather sweet." She cooed, as he placed a burning kiss into her red, frigid cheek, digging his nails into her shoulders, just slightly, and he felt her shiver, excited, as the sharp tips poked through his supple gloves.

"Beware that which possesses only the appearance of goodness, My Dearest Love......... for in such clever deception can hide the heart of wickedness........."

Ally breathed deeply, fighting for her white plumed breath as she spoke. "A lesson you have taught me all too well, My Darling Husband.........." Charlie smirked with her answer, aroused by her subtle defiance, running his fingers along her gauzy, sparkling neckline, sliding them torturously slow down her silk bodice.

"How very telling, My Sugar Plum, and while I'd love to impart the entirety of my knowledge of wickedness to you....... I must depart. You'll see yourself inside, won't you? Wrap yourself up a bit warmer next time you venture out, I must insist. How perfectly scandalous.......... A married woman scurrying around with her shoulders bare, showing off such soft, pale, freckled skin........." Charlie's breath got heavier as he spoke, relinquishing his talons from one of her shoulders, to replace it with his open, eager lips, meeting fast with her bare skin. "However, in the privacy of our rooms, do feel free to show me every........ last....... one of these teasing little freckles........." He kissed the dotted constellations as he spoke, her white wine skin tasting even better for having been chilled, and had there not been a little boy in dire need of his particular talent, he'd would have been tempted to stay, and do just what he told Bing he needed to do......... tend to his wife.

"Charlie.......... Where are you going?" Ally asked breathless, a little rattled, not just with her husband's scandalous words and pleasing attentions, but at the wary thought of being alone with that other lurking, rather large friend of his, that seemed to skulk everywhere that Charlie went.

Charlie snickered, whirling her around to stare into her worried green Christmas tree eyes, his gloved hands taking possessive hold of either of her sides, pulling her to him. "Fret not, Snow Angel, I shall return to you, once I had done with my work. Rest now, retreat to our love nest, and find comfort in our marriage bed. I shall share it with you soon enough."

"What work coaxes you from me? Please, Charles, do not leave me here alone with your odd friend, looming ominous! He frightens me, even if it is not his intent."

Charles chuckled amused, moving swiftly forward to brush his nose against hers, leaning in for a kiss, and then pulled away, just as she went to indulge him.

"My good work must remain a continued mystery to you, Pet," He lamented, brushing a stray curl from her face. "But worry yourself no more, Mister Partridge will be accompanying me on my errand, and you will be spared any further awkward instances, I assure you."

Ally bit her lip, looking guilty and embarrassed. "Please understand me, Charlie, I do not wish to speak ill of Mister Partridge, nor do I seek to hurt him in this opinion, but I am rather distressed by him."

Charlie chuckled lower, deeper, his dark eyebrows slanting deadly forward. "Bing, while an irksome fellow, yes, is no threat to the Queen of Christmasland.......... You, My Precious Wife, should be far more concerned about the distress caused to you by tender hands. You should fear me infinitely more than Bing Partridge........."

"I do......... You're......... terrifying." Ally whispered reverently, and Charlie's hot breath threatened a kiss, before he granted it mercilessly.

Ally kissed him back, grasping at the back of his coif, and he pressed into her lips more fiercely as she pulled every sleek strand loose, working them through her dear little fingers.

"Diabolical. Using your feminine allure to trap me here? You ARE a scheming minx, Ally Manx," he rasped back, the heat in his voice making his snow white rose positively wither.

"You dastardly clever fiend, however did you figure me?" She gasped back blissfully, feigning affront, and he grinned wickedly.

"Because........ It was I that was the making of you, My Dear....... I know you better than anyone ever could. All your life I have watched you, studied you........ Waiting." Ally shivered, but this time it was out of actual fear, a seeping cold, quick to kill the searing heat of Charlie's attraction. Flashes of him, towering over her, grinning cruelly, hands raised as he puppeteered her own, making them author his violent scribbling, the words engulfed in a blaze of hatred and black smoke, and she'd felt it........ the girl........ the brave teenage Creative, flying from her bike, colliding with the side of a truck, crumpling, concussed.

She turned her head away, missing his kiss, and Charlie nodded coolly, impressed. "My, my, what a devastating punishment indeed. Perhaps we might continue this delectable disciplinary action once I've returned, but for now....... Do get inside, and get yourself warmed up."

She nodded, averting her eyes as Charlie carefully kissed her hand, sensing the subtle change in her demeanor. There it is....... that ever so foreboding reluctance. We can't have that.

"Charles, why do you not tell me about your work? Why cannot I accompany you, instead of that dreaded, hulking Bing?"

"Don't pout, Darling, it is more becoming than I can bear, at present." He protested, pressing a gloved finger to her pouting lips. "You are safe here....... If I had it my way......... You would never again depart the comfort and confines of my glorious inscape........."

Ally felt the chills of a far more sinister nature creep unwanted through her body, a suspect fear taking hold. "But you WILL let me leave here, and see again the natural world, won't you, Charles..........?"

He could taste the fear in her voice, and while he'd feasted on it, hungered for more of it, as she'd fought to free herself of his floating grasp, he did not care for it this time, that bitter hint of desperation. Women were frail creatures, that behaved badly when they turned desperate.

He forced a smile, and shooed away the shadow of his dark intention, letting the pale light break through his black eyes. He was secretly working on a way of dealing with that pesky little possibility, as they spoke, cooking up a special something that would take care of the unfortunate issue once and for all....... But as for now, her hunger for the lie, was even more aching than her need of the truth, and so he would gladly feed it to her, without regret.

"Of course, oh you poor girl, of COURSE you shall be returned to the outside world, in time! What kind of heartless tyrant do you take your husband for?" He stroked her hair, as he cooed his assurance, and watched her eyes believe every word, watched her swallow the lie, relieved, as he pressed it urgently to her lips. "Forgive me, My Bride, in my haste, in my newlywed state, I may have proved overly protective." He took her hands in his, and looked deep into her eyes, with his best guise of sincerity. "I do not, at present, think it wise for you to make the transcendent journey. There are nefarious beings that poison the outside, My Pet, bad people who might prey upon your good nature, and if anything should happen to you........." Charlie's voice trailed off, rife with a very real sorrow, grasping her hands in donned earnest.

"No, of course you are right, Charles, forgive me........" She whispered in hushed apology, squeezing his hand, relenting as he brought his other gloved palm to cup her cheek. He knit his brow painfully, putting on the mask of the distraught husband, feeling her give in, helpless to stop it, as he took control of her mind just as effortlessly as he'd done with her hands.

"What waits for me out there, save an empty world that didn't even want me?" She whispered, fighting the tears. A world that doesn't care I've gone. No one's looking for me........"

"Shhhhhh," Charles soothed, pulling her into him, holding her head to his chest, fighting the smug joy, as he stroked the top of it. "There now, My Sweet........ It is true. No one searches for you because you are no longer lost. You are found."

Ally cried into the front of his woolen coat, as he continued to calm her, kissing the top of her head, while she clinged to him. "That's so beautiful, Charlie, and truly profound. My place........ is here. Right here. With you. With your children."

"Yes, My Young Bride, and they are going to LOVE their dear mother, as much as I do," He simpered, smoothing his thumb up her cheek to catch her falling tear. "No one cries in Christmasland, My Divine, and there are far more inducements here, in this magical land I've promised you, than upon that hated, sinking ship, I rescued you from." He snarled his lip in a way he knew she couldn't see, his thoughts deliciously malicious. I told you, Girl, you would never leave my Paradise for the Lost, and whether I keep my promise through candy-coated enticement, or a creative kind of punishment, so be it........

Ally smiled sweetly up at him, before nestling her head back into his chest. "Thank you, Charles. For saving me, for marrying me, forgiving me in this, my ungrateful request. It was a slight in asking, and I am sorry. You gave me a home, a palace of shining lights and sparkling snow, and while you and I have had our......... creative differences, I don't want to leave, I couldn't do that to you, or your children, whom I ache so to meet and mother and love......."

"Our children," Charles whispered, with a playfully raised eyebrow, resting his forehead against hers, taking both of her hands in his. "They are rather gnashing their teeth to meet their new mother as well," he finished smoothly, bemused by his own wit. "Such a shame they could not attend our Christmas Eve Wedding, but you see, introducing a new woman into their lives is a big change. It must be the exact right moment........." I must first find the means to make sure they don't eat you alive, he thought with another smile. You will be a treat for them, My Sweet, just not the one they're used to their father spoiling them with..........

"Our children........ Ally breathed, pulling back to kiss him tenderly. "I like that, I love them already, Charlie, oh how happy our family will be!!!"

Charlie kissed her back slowly, watching her face light up like a Christmas tree. "That's right, Mrs. Manx you will have no choice but to love them. They're especially unforgettable.

Ally giggled, and Charles led her up the snowy knoll to the candy cane fence, helping her over it. "I must bid you adieu, My Sugar Plum, but I will return with an extra special surprise for you, a wedding present that I hope you will find more favorable than the first........."

Charles kissed her carefully again, as she shivered with his words, writing the goosebumps on her delicate skin.

He turned away from her, when she reached for his arm, and that meddlesome desperation bled through her fingertips.

"Charlie..........?"

"Yes, Allyssa, My Love?" He answered back, looking over his shoulder, fending off his perturbed suspicion.

"The girl....... on the motorcycle....... Who is she? Is she........?" Ally's voice was pleading, faltering on the last word, making him shudder.

"Alive?" He asked spitefully, and she cast her eyes downward with the harsh sound of his voice. They hadn't spoken of it, hadn't uttered one single word between them on the matter, since that awful, rapturous, fateful night. Why did she want to talk about it now? Why couldn't she forget about Vic McQueen? Why couldn't HE forget about Vic McQueen?"

"Yes. To my every screaming vexation, The Girl on the Motorcycle lives. No thanks to you." Charlie hissed, pulling free of her hold.

"I couldn't do it, Charlie, I won't do it. I won't be a killer like-" Ally gasped tearfully, clapping her hand over her mouth, ashamed.

"Like....... Me," Charles finished with a cruel smile, impressed that she'd actually said it.

"No, Charlie, please-" Ally sobbed, wavering to meet his intense gaze.

"No, come now, you can't take it back....... You married a killer, a monster, you called me, if I'm not mistaken?" He smirked, but his eyes were deathly cold.

"No........ I-I didn't mean it, Charles........ Please, I just don't understand it! Why does the full force of your hatred, your fury fall upon this one girl? What could she have possibly done to you, to inspire the darkest of your intent? Tell me?"

Charles shook his head, disappointed as he looked at her, so lovely, so perfectly impossible. "Victoria McQueen is a problem, my problem, and one I'll admit I had hoped we could solve together. She threatens you, even while you throw yourself to her defense. She is my greatest enemy, and if you harbor any misplaced sympathy for what we did to her........ There is no place for you here.......

Ally stared at him, incredulous, tears glistening in her green eyes, stunned, as he looked right through her. "You would...... banish me.......?"

"No. I would banish the woman who would enact this treachery in aiding my most hated foe. I know that isn't you, Allyssa Manx." Charles insisted through gritted teeth.

Ally nodded gently, raising her head. "No...... No, it is not...... But I must ask this, and then we need never speak of it again. Do you love me........ as much as you hate her.......?"

Charles felt himself struck to the heart by yet another deafening answer.

"Yes."

Ally wasn't sure whether to be achingly relieved for herself, or paralyzed with fear for this Victoria McQueen. This messy-haired, reckless girl, prone to screaming profanities, being herself a mere eighteen years old, WHAT power could she possibly hold over the Strongest Creative of them all? Charles' own beloved Wraith could take him anywhere, what use did he have for this coveted red motorcycle, and the mysteriously named, "Shorter Way?” But the question that stole the breath from her lungs was this......... Could Charlie come to regard his own wife with the same crushing hatred as he'd revealed for his mortal enemy? A girl, not much younger than she?

"Yes, Mrs. Manx. I do love you with the same violent intensity that I hate Victoria, and I assure you there exists no more a romantic profession than that!!! However, I can also assure you, without hesitation........ one shall never cause effect to the other. Just as my possessed hatred for her, shall never impede my ability to love you, so shall my love for you, never sway me in my tirade against her........"

Ally nodded solemnly, the severity of his words as biting as the cold which had grown between them considerably.

"I want to hurt her, wrest from her everything she holds most dear. I want to ruin her, and I cannot promise that I won't use you, and your smoking pen to do it. However, I won't make a murderess of my own wife. You'll take her to the edge, yes, but I will be the one to finish it."

#charlie manx #nos4a2 #charlie manx x oc #vic mcqueen #christmasland #paradise for the lost #bing partridge #paranormal romance

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