| Title: Imperfect Author: Jo Pairing: Marton Csokas/Lucy Lawless Rating: PG13 Summary: Marton poses an interesting question. Disclaimer: Absolutely, completely, utterly, 100% fiction. Means I made it all up. Not real. But if you DO think it's real, then I'm fucking Orlando Bloom on a nightly basis. Notes: A sort of "what if?" based on the "Past Imperfect" episode of "Xena," but not really. Brenda wanted Borias/Xena, but this is as close as I'm getting. Happy late birthday, babe!
Not that it really mattered, of course. Not with his heart beating, heavy and slow, beneath her ear. It was soothing, the steady thumpthump thumpthump that accompanied the rise and fall of his chest. Soothing and relaxing. This was the time she loved best -- those few moments right after sex, when her breathing had returned to normal and her muscles had stopped twitching, but the sweat was still cooling on her skin. She liked the way her body felt then, languid and sated, limbs tangled with his. It was a surreal, lazy feeling that she couldn't achieve with anyone else. And she'd tried. More than once. Oh, how she'd tried. But she always ended up back in his bed. Almost as if they were fated to be together. The were drawn to each other, she and Marton, like iron filings to a magnet. And she'd given up trying to escape the pull. It was senseless, useless...especially when they both wanted it. "You ever wonder how it might have been?" Marton asked, quiet voice disturbing the soft reverie in which her mind drifted. "Hmm?" A soft rumble echoed through his chest, vibrated over the fine bones in her ear. He was laughing. Not at her, but at her low hum of an answer that wasn't really an answer. She knew it, and it was fine with her. Pretty much anything was fine with her as long as those strong arms remained wrapped around her waist. When she'd made it clear that she wasn't going to elaborate on her reply, he tried again. "Xena and Borias," he said. "Do you ever wonder how it might have been?" "What might have been?" "If he hadn't died." "Ah," Lucy said, propping up on one elbow to look at him. "You mean if he'd managed to get her and the baby away." "Yes." Dark eyes watched her as blunt fingers slid lazily up her spine. She shivered. What was it about him? What power did he have over her, that his lightest touch could undo her like that? She'd always wondered. But she'd never been able to figure it out. "I imagine it would have ended the same. Only without Borias dying." "Would it?" "Well, of course. They'd already come to the end." "Had they?" Marton's eyebrow lifted, just a bit. And Lucy knew he was steering the conversation. But to where, she had no clue. Like usual. "You know they had." She looked down at him, tried to decipher the thoughts hidden behind those hooded eyes. "The split over the centaurs was proof that their outlook on life had changed." "Not really." "How so?" "Borias respected strength, honor, and courage," Marton said, still stroking her back. "That never changed." "He sided with the centaurs," Lucy said, pointing out the obvious that they both knew. And why the hell where they having this conversation now? "The centaurs were honorable." "Against Xena," she continued as if he'd said nothing. "Her actions were not." Suddenly, his calmness infuriated her. He could lie there, unblinking, unflinching, and say those things? Lucy fought to hang on to her temper, but it was hard. It always was when he was in this mood. "He turned on her when she needed him most." Her voice was harder than she'd intended, the words harsh and biting. "She always said she didn't need him or any man," Marton shot back. For the first time, his eyes flashed and his calm demeanor vanished. "But he loved her." Long minutes passed while they stared at each other. No sound touched their ears except the soft sounds of the other breathing. Lucy waited for Marton to back down, Marton waited for Lucy to back down -- and neither gave an inch. Yet, to Lucy, it was obvious that something needed to bend. So her voice was softer, easier, when she said, "Xena couldn't forgive his betrayal." "She loved him." That simple statement stopped her next words before they could even form. How could she argue with the conviction in Marton's voice? Interesting that he could be so sure of his arguments. But Lucy still wasn't ready to admit defeat. "He was the great love of her life," Marton said, his soft voice once again disturbing her thoughts. Lucy's laugh was short and low, wrapping around his words. He'd made a good case up to that point, but she knew she had him. Even the most casual fan could have pointed out how wrong he was. "No," she said, smiling, "Gabrielle was the great love of Xena's life." Then it was Marton's turn to laugh. The rich, amused chuckle sent another shiver up her spine as she frowned. What the hell was so amusing? "Don't tell me you buy into that load of tripe," Marton said, still laughing. "What tripe?" Lucy was confused. And still frowning. Marton just tucked a lock of hair behind her ear with gentle fingers. Those same fingers slid to caress her jaw, and he smiled. "That Xena and Gabrielle were lovers." "That isn't what I said," Lucy protested, almost indignant. "No?" "No." "Good," Marton said as he flashed her a lazy smile. Lucy loved that smile, loved the funny things it did to her stomach. But enough of his smile. She scrambled to recapture the thread of the conversation. "Good?" "Mmhmm," he murmured, lips moving against her throat, breath stirring her hair. "Xena loved men too much to be a lesbian." "Is that so?" Lucy watched him, amused. "You know it's true." "Perhaps." She shifted, chin tipping up as his lips slid along her throat to her ear. "But that still doesn't prove your point." "I don't have to prove my point." Lucy lifted her head, looked at him. So sure of himself. Sometimes she wondered why she put up with him. But she knew. Of course she did. He was the only person who got her. The only one who had ever understood the things she didn't, the things she couldn't, say. And he was impossible to walk away from, no matter how hard she tried. "They'd moved too far apart," she said, attempting to steer the conversation back on track. Marton merely lifted one eyebrow as his lips curved in a tiny smile. She knew that expression. God, did she know it. He was about to pull out something she couldn't argue with -- and there wasn't a damn thing she could do to stop him. Well, nothing short of using sex to distract him. There was that. There was always that. But she had the oddest feeling that resorting to sex would mean admitting defeat. She wasn't sure how, but.... "He came back for her." And there it was. The coup de grace delivered in that husky, intimate voice he reserved for her, and her alone. Lucy knew she'd lost, even as her mind raced. No use. How was she supposed to argue with that? She couldn't. Not really. Oh, sure, she could present protest after protest. She could even spend the rest of the afternoon debating each point. But it was a waste of time better spent on other, more enjoyable, things. And they both knew it. Marton had won. Now Lucy had to figure out how to concede gracefully. "But --" "No." Marton's fingers covered her lips. "He loved her. She loved him. He came back for her and the child." "Doesn't mean there was love involved." Lucy knew she was pouting when Marton chuckled. The rich sound curled around her, enveloped her in a thick layer of warmth and -- dare she think it? -- love. "You know it was." "Do I?" He chuckled again, hands slipping up to tangle in her hair. A gentle tug pulled her head back so her eyes could meet his. "They loved each other." "D'you really believe that?" "Don't you?" Marton asked quietly while his fingers caressed her nape. "I believe I might be convinced." She lowered her lashes, but continued to watch him. And, right on cue, that lazy smile reappeared. There was no protest, no resistance, when he rolled her to her back and settled between her thighs. "I was hoping you'd say that."
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