Not Meant for Me {Ask}

[theron]

I dream in darkness
I sleep to die
Erase the silence
Erase my life


Giant hooves dig into the ground, bringing in thunderous noise to overshadow the distant storm. Their eyes glinted menacingly, death within them. Standing 9’ tall, they were fearful creatures, half men, half horse. Warriors built for war of famed prowess and bravery with both blade and bow, they were the proud centaur and none could stand against their army.

But one man stood.

Even his muscular frame was overshadowed by the centaurs’ height, but he wasn’t moved by it. A stolen glance into his fierce and cold eyes revealed an unmovable will that hid no sign of fear whatsoever. He was either insane or ready to die.

The blood curling laughter of the centaur leader resounded into the woods, giving them an even sinister feel.

“You dare to stand against us champion of Ares? We will not bow to your god! You’re only one man, and we are legion! You think you can stop us?”

A short silence followed as the opponents studied each other, and then the weight shifted from one muscle to the other.

“Watch me!”

Launching himself forward, the Spartan swung his sword and sharp metal connected with soft flesh. The taint of freshly spilled blood spread into the air, the red sticky plasma splashing on his face and the salty taste of blood reached his tongue as the severed head of the centaur leader hit the ground, its body following in slow motion.

The Spartan stood impassive, no sign of emotion whatsoever in his face, but the deafening cry of anger escaped his followers as they throttled forward, claiming for the blood of the human warrior. Metal glittering under the harsh sun as they charged, the metallic sound of steel against steel cut through the battle cries and the ground became red with blood as the Spartan swung his sword and sent members flying.

The battle was brutal, relentless. Over two hundred of centaurs came down the mountains in a maddened frenzy. The Spartan had signed his death warrant and they wouldn’t stop until their blades had tasted his blood. Revenge would be theirs, no matter how fierce the human was, he couldn’t overcome them all.

His respiration grew heavy watching the approaching army for the slaughter. Raising his bloody sword to the heavens, the Spartan called out to the skies.

“DRACO!”

A passing shadow obscured the sun, winged death, fire from the sky.

The centaurs froze for a moment before the fire came upon them, turning them into flaming piles of charred flesh and bone. The dragon claws pierced through them, his sharp jaws devouring more than a few.

The remaining fell to the Spartan’s blade.

“You’ve done well brother,” he said touching the warm face of the dragon. Draco had become more than an ally over the years, he was a trusted friend...a brother.

The storm broke out, the skies were dark.

Memories of ancient times faded into present, giving light to the shimmering lights of modern nights, the sound of horns and modern mechanic motors. People hurried to seek shelter from the pouring water as the thunder echoed closer this time.

Standing still, cold and weary blue eyes watched impassive this new age.

Placing his hands in the pockets of his dark overcoat, Theron kept his head down. The Spartan looked somehow uncomfortable in this age but yet unbothered by the storm. He was adrift in a time that wasn’t his own and with nothing to hang on to.

Cerberus wouldn’t allow him passage into the realm of the dead…he had already tried.

This new age was a mechanical one, of glass and steel. Of cynicism and disbelief. The knowledge of the true world that existed in his time, of gods and otherworldly creatures had been turned into mythology. As if denying them would somehow change the past, it did nothing else then allow the ancients to wander the world and meddle into man’s business without the world even knowing of them.

But what he cared of it anyways? Theron had been through the designs of the gods for many centuries now, had lost his faith in them. Maybe they were indeed better left forgotten, even if he wasn’t capable of forgetting, his memories were all that he had left of his former self.

With unhurried steps, the Spartan pressed forward.

[Roxy St. James]

don't give up on me yet
don't forget who I am
I know I'm not there yet
but don't let
me stay here alone


Ah, twilight. It was a time in the day when the sun sank down to its lowest part on the horizon and graced the earth below with the cooling hands of shadow. Like some kind of superhero out of a ragged comic, it chased away the feverish heat of the normal day, bringing with it a promise of coolness; a crisp breath of change on the wind, for those looking for a respite from sweat and table fans. And on a Friday night? The end to the work week and the beginning of two days of rest and relaxation after five whole days of grueling hardship? It was just twice as lovely.

Well…’lovely,’ that is, to anyone who wasn’t a Miss Roxy St. James, aka ‘Slave to the Annoying Fat Ass That Was Her Boss.’

Shoving her fingers through her hair, the reporter stood impatiently at the elevator, staring up at the lit numbers that slowly descended. Night came later now, thanks to the approaching summer; the sweltering little bitch of a season that just never hesitated to mess up her schedule. During the beautiful winter days, she’d get up promptly at 8 o’clock, work until 5, grab a quick dinner, then head home before the sun sank too low behind the painted horizon.

When the leaves began to sprout, however, everything went up to chance. Chance that her boss was too busy futzing with his new secretary. Chance that her sleezeball coworker wasn’t about to try and steal her latest lead. Chance that she could actually leave the office before she went furry and tried to eat the mail room boy.

Yeah, it was safe to say that ‘ol Chancey wasn’t a werewolf’s best friend.

“Leaving so soon, Roxy?” A familiar voice chirped from behind her. Denise, the tabloid’s resident ‘Mom’ secretary, stopped typing up a form to smile warmly at her.

She tried to return the favor, but knew she failed. “Yeah, Denise. I…I’m just really tired. I need to get home and get some rest.”

The secretary nodded sagely. “You do that, dear. We were just hoppin’ today, weren’t we? All those stories coming in; you’d think that it was a full moon?”

Oh good God, she hoped not. Flinging yet another half hearted smile at the older woman, she escaped into the elevator.

For as long as she could remember, Roxy had wanted to help people. From fixing her teddy bears’ imaginary boo-boo’s, to helping the school nurse when she saw that the woman was overwhelmed; she, the daughter of one of the city’s most drunk-ass morons, aspired to be a reporter. What better way to give back to her community than to let them know about the dangers they faced? She kept people informed, no matter that people thought her ‘information’ was a load of crap. Roxy slept well, knowing in her heart that the world needed her.

But things were never as easy as they seemed.

Shouldering open the front doors, she shrugged into her raincoat. The little watch on her wrist bleeped its 6:00 song, and she bit back a cringe. The darkness of the day surrounding her was stifling, suffocating her with its promises, but she shoved the fears aside. Thanks to the lengthening day, night didn’t officially start for another hour; plenty of time for her to hurry home. She’d just walk quickly, keep herself focused on her breathing, and then everything would be alright.

She’d stay human Roxy…not some weird ass furry version of herself, with appetites that border on the freakishly insane.

Her heels made sharp clacking noises on the sidewalk as she hurried down the street, huddling into the comforting warmth of her jacket. One foot in front of the other, she told herself with a grim determination. Just keep moving, just keep breathing. There was nothing to worry about; everything would be fine.

And then, quite out of nowhere, a pair of dual lights seemed to fling itself at her body as if it were magnetized.

Well, there went the whole ‘it’ll be alright’ idea. Hello, Mr. Taxi Cab. How’s about some deer-in-the-headlights staring to make her day so much better?

[theron]

For whom the gun tolls
For whom the prey weeps
Bow before a war


Letting the rain to soothe his wary soul, the Spartan moved through the streets as the people around him rushed for shelter. There was an unsettling calm behind his blue eyes, the mad calm and determination of a man that felt no fear and had no hopes or dreams.

His boots clicked on the asphalt beneath his feet, guiding him aimlessly through the streets. The day had been filled with visitors trying to sell him antiques, some were valuable and some were fakes. Theron had made sure that those trying to sell him fakes wouldn’t recur on such mistake again, he was no fool and wouldn’t allow others to act as if he was one.

But when the sun went down, that was the time when the memories assaulted him. If he could only get his hands into the goddess who cursed him, he would give her swiftly retribution for all those years. It had been his deed, his crime, but he wasn’t supposed to be standing to this day and remember it. Those memories were supposed to have faded into dust long ago along with him.

The rain started to recede, people came out of their hiding spots to litter the streets and suddenly the world seemed to become alive again.

Life and death were an unending cycle, he had seen too much of it already. Legends were born and old empires crumpled to dust and the world went on. In the past ages, Theron had rode on Draco’s back as the gigantic dragon spread his wings and cut the skies. For some reason this gave both of them some semblance of life, served to show they still existed in this modern and cynical world, that their story wasn’t the creation of some madman. There had been reports sprouting about someone spotting dragon flying in the late hours of night, but those were too sporadically and distant apart to not be outright dismissed. But even that seemed distant and Draco had turned into hibernation, waiting to be recalled when needed once more.

The fires died out long ago along with the charred battlefields, all that was left now was the artificial light of the cars and halogen lamps. But this night was something else standing into the light, a mortal woman standing in the middle of the street, mesmerized by the approaching yellow metal beast.

Another innocent life to be sacrificed in the name of progress. They would call it statistics, fate and even the gods will.

Well, fuck the gods’ will, Theron had enough of that already.

Moving faster than anyone had the right to be, he reached the woman and pulled her into his protective embrace. The Spartan knew there was not enough time to avoid the approaching metal Titan, so he decided to improvise. Without much thought he forced his legs to impulse both their bodies into the air and lean sideways, as his back reached the car’s windshield letting his body receive the full impact as it crashed through the glass and through the other side, falling back into the street amidst a shower of glass.

There were several shards of glass that had pierced his skin, even that one who had sliced his carotid but he would live. Most importantly, the woman would live, that was one life that the gods wouldn’t claim. It was a small particular victory for the Spartan, a sign of defiance against the gods.

[Roxy St. James]

It was just so strange, how time seemed to slow down to a crawl when something bad was about to happen. Watching that pair of bright lights come zooming toward her body, all Roxy could think of was how she really wished she’d socked ‘ol Paul the Pervert in the nuts before she’d died. And as the taxi came closer, almost inching forward, she had just enough time to wonder if her sisters would be alright.

Then time sped up, a horn blasted, tires skidded on the rain-slick asphault, someone screamed from behind her- or was that her screaming?- and…and…

A pair of tree-trunk arms wrapped around her body, and she found herself flying through the air. There were the sounds of crashing from far away, along with some healthy bone-jarring thudding.

Well, HELLO SUPERMAN.

It took about a minute for her brain to register the fact that she wasn’t dead. She felt numb, a faint buzzing starting up in her ears as the sounds of the city began to filter in. There was something warm and solid beneath her, and she slowly raised her head, forcing her eyes to focus.

She was lying on top of a man, and the ground around them was covered in a halo of glass. There was the sounds of skidding tires behind her, and glancing over her shoulder, she watched as a very battered cab proceeded to tear down the street. License plate; she had to remember the plate number, so she could call the police. But that would be later.

Yeah, right after she stopped shaking like a leaf, and the ‘oh my God, oh my God’ mantra was replaced with something a bit more sane. Her mind still in shock, she let her forehead drop back to the solid chest beneath her. She was alive. Holy crap, she’d almost got hit by a car, and she was still alive.

…And, oh yeah, she was using Superman as a freaking mattress. Whoops.

Picking her head up again, she could only blinking stupidly down at the guy- wow…this was no Clark Kent…maybe Batman? Definitely got the ‘brooding eyes’ down pat- as her brain raced to catch up with reality. Her body was practically humming with adrenaline, and other than your normal ‘oh my God, oh my God, OH MY GOD’ streaming through her brain, it was pretty hard to form a coherent thought. In her haste to make it home before the night truly descended, she’d almost gotten hit by a car. The irony of it all was enough to make her sputter out a hysterical little giggle before she got herself under control.

Poor dude. For all the time it took to realize that she was lying on top of a random Good Samaritan who might be bleeding to death, he was probably flat as a pancake beneath her fat ass. DAMN, WAKE UP, ROXY!

“Oh my effing GOD, are you alright?” She squawked, pushing herself off of him. Glass pierced her palms, but she ignored the sting, practically launching herself to the side so that she was on her knees beside him. “You saved my life! That freaking cab came out of NOWHERE…and it didn’t even stop! I can’t even begin to thank you. Just don’t move, alright? Stay still and I’m going to call an ambul—BLOOD! ACK! DON’T WORRY, BATMAN, I’LL SAVE YOU!”

She’d chalk that last part up to adrenaline later. As she spotted the flowing blood at his neck, she tore off the decorative scarf she’d been wearing and pressed it against the wound, all the while chanting ‘I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.’

The smell of blood had the leopard in her salivating, but she pushed it back with a mental snarl. It always got like this; go too long without shifting, and Miss Leo got very cranky. The adrenaline, the scare, the smell of blood; all of it combined was enough to make her canines lengthen and her eyes burn, signaling the cat’s need to come out. With an audible snap, she closed her mouth and focused her eyes on her scarf. The guy was probably going into shock…hell, he could join the damn party!

“Just keep those peepers open, okay?” She informed the quiet man beneath her. Was that a part of shock; not making a sound when blood was practically splurting from his neck? OH NO! Frantically, she shoved her fingers into the pockets of her jeans, fighting with the cell phone inside. Once free, she cradled the cracked thing against her cheek, an animal growl emerging from her lips at the ‘please hold’ music. Yeah, only in this day and age would the police have elevator music.

“You are SO not going to die before I can buy you a little island somewhere for saving me! Just…stay awake! Focus on my face! And…er…huh, you’re not splurting anymore. Is that a good thing? Damn, I knew I should’ve paid attention in biology class…or watched where I was freaking walking…Sir, can you hear me? Can you feel your feet?”

[theron]

The pain was very real, a way to remember he was still alive even if it felt as his life poured out of him along with his blood. But as a thousand times before, he was once again denied entrance into the realm of the dead. So there he stood motionless, feeling the aching sore muscles and the salty taste of blood on his tongue. It became increasingly harder to breath as his heart started to give in and then fell silent.

And yet again as it had happened a thousand of times before, it was as if the life was shoved back into his body with the strength of a million of volts, the pain receded and his strength slowly returned, like dying and being born again, cursed be the gods.

But he had a victory against them, now if he only could silence the babbling woman…

Pushing his upper body up, he stared at her and a frown appeared into his features. “Don’t you ever silence your tongue woman?”

His legs completed the task of pulling his body up as he stared at the wide-eyed face of the woman. His hand moved reaching for his throat and his fingers held the sharp piece of glass that pierced his skin, pulling it out with a pained groan. The wound sealed before long and he was once again able to breathe at ease.

A quick inspection of the panicked woman revealed she was fine…as fine as someone who almost died could be, but she would recover her wits…hopefully before she managed to make his head explode with her incessant babbling, it was almost as fearsome as the banshees scream and he could say so from experience.

His clothes were now tainted with his blood, but his body was already almost recovered from crashing through front and rear car windshields at 50mph. He hadn’t known such physical duress since he had fought the furies at service of Ares. It seemed fitting that now he was acting against what he believed to be the will of the gods, it had a certain symmetry to it.

Tilting his head, he gazed at her for a few moments. She eyed him in the same manner she had stared at the headlights before and it was very unnerving, he had tried hard to get lost in the undercurrent and now he was being looked at as if he was a freak.

“Do you mind stepping out of the middle of the street? This is what got us in this predicament to start with.”

Grabbing her hand, the Spartan hauled her to the sidewalks with him. He hadn’t saved her so both of them would be standing in the street like sitting ducks, waiting for the next car to come along. No, one resurrection was enough for one day.

Placing his hands in his coat pockets, he ignored the curious eyes around then and releasing her hand, started walking again down the path with hurried steps.

He surely wasn’t the most gallant savior, that was for sure, but the ancient warrior wasn’t looking forward to be dissected under the curious gaze of random foolish bystanders.

[Roxy St. James]

((Okay, hehe, just a biiiit long. XD Sorry about that. And I have no idea why this came out so random sounding, so it if doesn't work, lemme know and I'll fix it. ^_^ ))



Was she staring at him like he was a freak? Or was it just the ‘oh thank you baby JESUS, he’s not going to die!’ happy dance that her brain was doing? Either way, her jaw had definitely dropped when he’d pulled that monstrous shard out of his neck, and an ‘OH NO, SUICIDAL MAN!’ had most certainly erupted from her lips as she launched herself at him. She had no idea what she’d do when she got her hands at that wound, but to yank a piece of glass like that from one’s neck surely spelled death in the normal world.

Which was why she should really be happy that she was more of an Abby-Normal girl, right? Oh, she really did wish it were that simple.

Both shock and confusion had her brain’s defenses severely depleted, she realized a bit later, or she would never have let her tongue wander so freely. As it was, however, when he first spoke- ooh, hello, he sounded as nice as he looked…though, the bald thing was kind of 90’s for her taste- she couldn’t help but reply with the first thing that popped into her head.

“I dunno. Don’t you ever stop being a Sexy Hunka’ Burnin’ Love, Mr. Batman?”

Oh, great idea; antagonize the savior. But…damn, either she’d done lots of nasty things in her life to deserve a crotchety hero, or someone was just having a bad day. Then again, she really shouldn’t be the one to complain. Who had just walked into the street and almost gotten hit by a freaking cab, because she froze up? She had. Ugh, this is why she should grow a backbone and tell her free-time-consuming boss where to stick his stories.

But back to the important part of this whole scenario: the man had just gotten hit by a cab and was still alive. Was he also a shifter…or some kind of animal-thingy? Given that her family did their best to raise her human, she wasn’t exactly the know it all, when it came to the special parts of the world. But there had to be others like her, right? So was this guy one of them?

Allowing herself to be led out of the street, she leaned in slightly when he wasn’t looking, taking in a deep breath of his scent. The leopard in her immediately wanted to back away. Nope, definitely not another leopard…but something else. Definitely something else and not entirely human.

And here she was, without her notepad and tape recorder. Just her darn luck.

“Yeah, duh, moving out of the road. Good idea,” She said, if only to sound polite. “By the way, unless I didn’t say it enough before, thank you so much for saving me. I feel like I should buy you dinner, or…hug you, or something. And…okay, walk away from me like I have the plague. Works too.”

Her jaw dropped for the second time that day as her would-be savior turned on his heel and marched away. What the heck, man! She could give a lot of leeway for growling at her, given that it was her fault he’d gotten his neck mauled in the first place…but c’mon now. At least put up with her babbling for long enough to get a free meal out of things.

No way in hell was she going to let Mr. I Can Heal Myself leave without making sure he was absolutely alright…not to mention without knowing how he’d managed to walk away in the first place. So, with a little yelp, she hurried after him.

Probably a bad idea, given said growling…but hey, she was never known to be the smart, curious kitty.

“Hey, you! You can’t just save a girl and walk away! You just pulled a freaking piece of glass out of your neck, man. How are you still walking?” As if to stop him, she placed a hand on his arm. Just as it had when she’d taken a good sniff of that strange scent, her leopard immediately started yowling.

Holy crap, talk about internal warning bells. Wait, no…scratch that, those were actual BELLS. Yay, she’d found a pack of bikers to walk in front of, when she went to grab Batman’s arm! Oh, happy day!

She was never leaving her apartment, when this was over. What the heck was it with her and stepping out into traffic? What was next? Get run over by a pack of joggers?

With a catlike yowl, Roxy flung herself backwards and out of the bikers’ path. It was a leap that gave her much more air-time than it would have a normal human, and she landed in a crouch, a growl working in her throat.
And THIS is why she tried her best to shift on a regular basis. Please, say the bikers didn’t notice, please say they didn’t notice…

She glanced over her shoulder and sighed in relief when all she saw was retreating backs. Yay, they didn’t notice. Score one for Team Roxy.

…But definitely not one for Team Let’s Find Out More About Batman. Darn. Slowly straightening, she let out an embarrassed cough and met the stranger’s eyes. “Uh, yeah…let’s just ignore that one. Um…back to that question before? How did you just save me and not die? ‘Cause…it’s kinda nice to know that a girl’s not the only weird person in all of Louisiana. Not that you’re weird. And…argh. Shut up Roxy.”

[theron]

Heavens, had he saved her only to have her stalking him now? Maybe he should have allowed the car to hit her. No, he knew he wouldn’t just stand idle when he could save her life, Theron wasn’t the hero type but neither was he the heartless bastard. There was still an honorable heart hidden beneath several layers of bitterness, he just didn’t give it much air time. It was obvious saving a single life wouldn’t make it up for all those he had taken, but it was far from pointless.

The Spartan wasn’t looking for thanks or a free meal, he just wanted to be left alone. He had enough of mortals, of watching them die, of staring time pass and all of them fade away from the world. A type of peace not meant for him. No, it was easier to stay away and pretend he didn’t care.

But the woman was relentless and followed him as he crossed yet another street, his car was just a few blocks away, if he could only get into it and escape his babbling stalker…

And that was when he felt the touch on his arm and heard the roar of approaching engines. That damned woman! Was she trying to kill herself?

Theron turned around hoping to be able to try yet another rescue, but deep down he knew there would be no time now. When he had turned he would see her broken body on the street…but instead he saw her leaping into the air and land into a crouching stance like she was some kind of animal.

Theron had been around long enough to know that he wasn’t the only unusual sort that walked in this world. There were others, cursed men and women, ghosts, vampires, demons, shifters…they were just the tip of the iceberg of what lurked in the shadows.

Brows furrowing, he glared at her and crossed his arms over his chest. So his stalker had a secret of her own. In the little silence that followed –ah blissful silence- he considered her nature and tilted his head.

“Roxy,” he repeated the name she had just spoken, “You shouldn’t be following people around asking questions when you aren’t willing to give answers yourself.”

But he was weird, he was a Spartan soldier, a former servant of Ares and old enough to go back hundreds of generations. Theron wouldn’t classify himself as the everyday ordinary man.

“You ask too many questions girl,” he sighed deeply, “I’m not getting hid of you until I give some answers, will I?” he massaged the bridge of his nose in a sign of annoyance. Theron wasn’t the most open person or the sharing kind, but what he was supposed to do when he had a…shifter perhaps…following him around? Getting to his car and driving away probably wasn’t an option anymore if she had his scent it was most likely that she would be able to track him down.

“If you promise to try not endangering your life until I can get hid of you I may answer some of your incessant questions.”

[Roxy St. James]

“Yeah, well, I didn’t hear any questions coming out of your mouth, sir, so don’t be growling at me. And you might be my hero and all, but keep insulting me and I’ll bite your frikken fingers off,” She said with a frown. Slowly, she straightened herself, brushing invisible dust off of her shoulders as her mind whirled.

Okay, so today was definitely up there on the ‘Suck Ass’ list. First a taxi, then a Batman who turns out to be more surely than her younger sister without a coffee fix, then a pack of night-bikers. What the heck did she ever do in a past life to deserve THIS kind of embarrassment? Forget the fact that her independence-loving self had had to get SAVED from a situation that her ‘abilities’ should have gotten her out of easily. And that her pride was seriously hurting from Mr. Grumpy telling her that her lips flap too much.

…Well, which they did. But heck, man, he didn’t have to point it out!

With a patented St. James look of ‘suck it up, Shirley,’ she shrugged off such inner wailing and turned her attention back onto Batman. Damn, he wasn’t bad to look at, even if the look he was giving her should have flung her ten yards back the way she came. Somebody definitely woke up on the wrong side of the pallet this morning.

“Comes with the territory,” She answered to his second statement. With a completely evil grin, she checked to make sure she looked both ways before sauntering over to him. “And no, you ain’t. But just think; you’ll get a free cup of coffee out of this entire ordeal. Not to mention that you can make sure I don’t get killed by a skateboarder or something. I’ll owe you one?”

With a roll of her eyes at the ‘promise,’ she just moved forward, pausing to make sure that he was following. Her journalist senses were tingling like crazy, and her leopard was making some very unhappy noises in her head, but she ignored both.

Truth bet old, she had no ever loving idea why she was hounding the guy. He wasn’t dead, he obviously wasn’t bleeding anymore, and he didn’t seem to want any kind of reward for saving her life. Save some ever loving thanks and a hug, she should just leave him the hell alone.

But hey, being considerate like that just wasn’t in her nature. What was? Showing her gratitude through words and actions.

So, in the typical Roxy fashion that had made her both the society pariah and lovable girl all rolled into one, she showed her appreciation in the only way that she knew how: she waltzed right back to where he was doing the whole ‘martyr thing’ and hugged him.

The guy was a good four inches taller than even her heels would allow, she noticed as she threw her arms around his neck, but hell, she’d risk squashing her toes if it meant showing him how thankful she was!

“Just in case you didn’t catch it before: thank you!” She said, giving him a quick squeeze before backing off. She had no problem with public signs of affection- one hug didn’t necessarily mean that she was about to go marry the growling dude- but some people tended to tense up and freak out at her bohemian ways. She blamed it on her mother; while not exactly in touch with her shifter side, Mom was as touchy-feely as anyone was likely to get.

That done, she proceeded to turn on her heel and start toward the coffee shop at the edge of the park. Without looking back, she crooked her finger over her shoulder.
“C’mon, Batman! Explain over coffee, or I’ll follow your cute ass all the way to Mars and babble the whole time.”

[theron]

It was as if the old gods were mocking him for his defiance, after saving the girl she was stalking him and babbling that made him consider if his defiance had ever been worth it. But who Theron was trying to fool? He wasn’t that much of the cold bastard that he tried to pass for, proof of that was the girl besides him, still breathing, talking and annoying.

After so much time, it was a wonder he hadn’t learn.

And a free cup of coffee? Hoo-freaking-ray! Was he supposed to be pleased with the prospect of a cup of coffee? And the irony…she was trying to be cute. Wasn’t that just fantastic?

Don’t say anything, don’t encourage her. Give some half-truths and well placed lies, satiate her curiosity and make her believe he wasn’t anything special, no one that she would want to know or befriend. If he could act cold enough, he might just pull it off.

But then she had to go and do something completely unexpected, she freaking hugged him, how she dared? Caught by surprise Theron was incapable of ignoring the sensations the contact of her body against his caused on him, he was unable to keep himself from smelling her perfume and that caused him to mentally curse himself. After so long, a woman shouldn’t have such effect in him. But her unexpected action had breached through all his carefully built defenses and he just stood there for a moment, unable to hide his surprise.

Could he just call for Draco to come and rescue him? Better yet, could he tell Draco to eat her? Great, the though Spartan warrior scared of an annoying girl!

Taking a deep breath, he once again sighed and afther shoving his hands into his coat’s pockets, followed her.

“Don’t call me Batman, I’m not a hero, not even close. I was just at the right place at the wrong time.”

No freaking joke – emphasis at WRONG time - this wasn’t his time. The old warrior was still kicking far beyond his natural expiration date.

Theron wasn’t the most open and chatty type. What he was to tell her? That he was a warrior form a dead civilization? That he had been used and tricked by the gods? That he had killed the woman he loved? He had said that he MIGHT answer her questions and never promised complete honesty after all.

“And if we’re doing this you better share your story first.”

The way she liked to talk, it probably would give him some time to come up with what to say.

[Roxy St. James]

Oh yeah, she was definitely the lucky one. Out of all the Good Samaritans and not-quite-human heroes in the world, she had to go and snag the grumpiest of the bunch. Could he look anymore damn constipated? C’mon now, she didn’t talk THAT much!

…Poor guy. If he was one of those ‘likes my quiet’ dudes, he was so in for some bleeding ears.

Which lead her to her next train of thought: What. The heck. Was she doing. Sticking around Mr. I Can’t Die? Her instincts were practically pantomiming how good of an idea it would be to hightail it out of the park away from him…not to mention that all rules of etiquette said that if the hero doesn’t want to be honored by the damsel in distress- insert some pride-twitching here- he shall be left the hell alone. Yet, there she was; practically dragging the guy to the nearest coffee shop. Was she some sort of stalker?

Oh hell, was her leopard hungry? She’d definitely eaten her fill of red meat at lunch, so she shouldn’t be wanting to chow down. Or…do anything else. Oh gah, shut up brain and shut up female drives. She was just insane; that was it. Entering Crazy Town, population her.

Man, he must be thinking that he should’ve left her to get squished by that cab. Once again: poor guy. But it really wasn’t her fault that her curiosity had the grip of a professional boxer. Once she got an idea in her head, she had to run with it or proceed with the lip gnawing. Which would inevitably lead her to some insomnia, compulsive researching and all around psychosis.

Not that she wasn’t swimming in that particular pool already, but what the hell. She was a shifter who liked to believe that she was a normal reporter. Sue her.

“Oh no, you’re not Batman. You just saved my sweet ass without dying. Not to mention that you’re just dark, brooding, and Byronically angry because you love your fluffy bunnies and bright rainbows.” She couldn’t help but reply, glancing at him over her shoulder with a ‘don’t make me babble at you’ look.

As they reached the end of the park, she paused until she was walking beside him. Crossing her arms over her chest, she surveyed their fellow nightly pedestrians, head tilting slightly. Oh great, he wanted her to return the favor, did he? She could probably count on one hand- or paw- how many people knew about her secret, excluding her family. But heck, she was prying into his life; he should be able to pry into hers. To an extent.

“Fine,” She said with a shrug. “Ain’t that much to tell. My family can…er…well, we can go from human to…um…other things. Animal things. Leopards. Wow, sorry…I’m not exactly used to talking about this out loud. My folks did their best to raise me and my sisters like we were all human, so it’s a bit…weird.”

Rubbing the back of her neck, she glanced at him again. Probably still glaring his pretty little head off.

[theron]

He should score points for human interaction, it has been so long since he had talked with anyone about anything instead of dealing in antiques or bashing some heads. He was still considering if he shouldn’t be doing the later. But in truth he wasn’t the type to hit women, especially not one that he had just saved. Not to mention she had found a breach in his well constructed grumpy armor.

Contact was something he avoided unless in those particular cold nights that he searched bars for easy women with nothing in their brains. That made things easier and simpler when he just wanted a one night stand and no strings attached. He didn’t need to care for someone again and then watch them wither and die.

Rolling his eyes at her batman remark, Theron produced an annoyed groan from his lips. What was up with her and her obsession about fictional characters? She better not be imagining him in a mask and cape.

As she spoke her tale, he listened silently. She was a shifter, it fitted with the way she had reacted at those bikers. Heck, if she could move like this then why in heaven’s name did she stood still waiting for that cab? Great, he had to walk into Roxy, the frozen shifter. And the worst part was that when she went off her mouth it seemed there was no stop. Was there an off switch in that woman?

In the little merciful silence that followed, he eyed her. Was he supposed to say something now in hope to satiate her curiosity?

“There is no big tale about myself. I’m not a shifter or any other type of supernatural creature although I heal faster than normal. I’m just a man, an old man who just happened to stumble into you. Besides that point I don’t believe there is much of the story that should concern you.”

Not exactly mister finesse or talkative, wasn’t he? Yes, he was hurrying in rebuilding his armor, that impenetrable wall around him before she could find a way to explore that breach she had created.

“You’re awfully curious. Why is that so? Do you prod every human you see on the streets or Am I the lucky one?”

Ok, he was wearing thin his cold and arrogant bastard arsenal, but hopefully this one try would do the trick? It was a faint hope, but what was he supposed to do? Assume his crime to a complete stranger that stalked the rough and unfriendly man through the night? He should get some scary face training time in front of the mirror once this ordeal was done with.

[Roxy St. James]

“Understatement of the year,” She muttered under her breath, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. ‘No big tale…’ ha, he did think she was a moron. Sure, she’d acted like it when she stepped out into traffic- definitely gonna be harping on that one for a while- but really now, the benefit of a doubt would be so nice. It wasn’t like he knew anything about her, really.

…Well, that is, aside from the huge ass secret that she just shared. And talk about sharing; she sounded like a fourteen year old boy on his first date, with all that stuttering.

Then again, with the expression of utter pain on his face, it really didn’t matter if she were stuttering or talking. Sheeze, what kind of convent did this guy come from, that he didn’t like the sound of a girl’s voice? Yeah, she did tend to babble, but c’mon now.

Nah well; the guy Batman’d her out of harm’s way. If he wanted quiet, he’d get his quiet…kinda.

“Okay, okay, no need to get snarky. I was just curious. I’m a cat…I get like that sometimes.” And oh, the need to ask him questions practically burned her tongue. Why had he called himself old, if he only looked like he were in his mid-thirties, tops? How old was he? And how did he not age? Was he some kind of a demi-God, to be able to heal so fast? Or a vampire? Gah, it was almost too much to take! Abort mission, abort mission!

Rubbing the back of her neck again, she glanced up at him with a little shrug. “To tell you the truth…I have no idea. I don’t normally hound people unless they ask for it. You’re just…interesting. I mean, you just got hit by a car and SURVIVED; who the heck else can do something like that? Not to mention that you saved me. Sorry, but that whole ‘unnamed cowboy Clint Eastwood rides away into the sunset’ thing always annoyed the hell outta me.”

Oh, she didn’t want to say it, REALLY didn’t want to say it, but as the coffee shop came into view, she sighed and stopped at the curb. For once, she was listening to the traffic signal, practically staring it down as it blinked it’s ‘DON’T WALK YET’ warning.

“Yeah, it’s kinda crazy. Um, I’m goin’ into the shop ‘cause I need caffeine after almost dying. If you wanna leave, go ahead. I won’t stalk you anymore. I just…wanted to know more about you. You looked like you have a story to tell and I’d have loved to hear it. But…yeah, babbling again. Look, thanks a lot for saving me. Was a pleasure, Batman.”

As the light turned green, she gave his shoulder a little pat, flashed a smile and hurried off toward the café before she could take it all back and go at him like the journalist she was. She wanted to know, man! The need to get the truth was so insistent, that she was convinced that she was justified in leaping on the guy and yammering on until he cracked. But hell, man, she wasn’t a moron.

Batman never spilled his guts to the annoying reporter. He just glared…and saved her from things. This guy could definitely put a checkmark on both of the above, so what else was there?

Damn, she hated her common sense. Hated, hated, haaaaaated it!

[theron]

He just stood there, glaring and being his charming grumpy self. The whole cold jerk act that he worn to keep people away and prevent them from getting too close. Pretend with practiced ease that there wasn’t anything in this world to interest him, just move from one moment to the next with the same numb feeling he felt all those years ago back in the temple once the blind killing machine rage settled down and he saw his victims.

That look on Alexis eyes, etched forever in his memory, she saw him and blamed him. His betrayal and her horror frozen into her eyes. The torment of the crows hadn’t been punishment enough for his crime and to this day the Spartan left that memory torment him and keep all semblance of life away.

Ares.

How he hated the god he once served with such conviction and abandon. Killed his enemies without question, without mercy. For this was what he had been born to be, the perfect warrior, the perfect killing machine.

Vasilios would be proud of his son.

But the price had been too high, and the regret too big.

Shoving his hands in the pockets of his overcoat, he turned around and started walking once she had left. Don’t think, just run in the opposite direction to not risk her changing her mind and stalk him again, run for sweet freedom.

But he wasn’t running.

Standing still, the Spartan raised his head towards the night skies and held down a growl. Theron couldn’t believe the very thoughts running through his mind. The thoughts that had him wishing to hear another’s voice, even if it was her incessant babbling questions.

After all this time he craved for human interaction like a starving lion. After so long he was hoping he was devoid of such trivial wants that had power over him centuries ago, obviously he was wrong.

He missed her babbling! Heavens, he missed it!

The little doorbell over the café’s door rang as he crossed its threshold and wandered until the booth the leopard girl was sitting. Letting his body collapse heavily in the seat across her with a heavy sigh, he gazed at her face savoring what he knew would be the precious little seconds of silence for some time. He was an utter and complete fool.

“Ask your questions.”

[Roxy St. James]

With a muttered curse, Roxy pushed through the café’s front door, wincing at the loud chiming that followed. Talk about the absence of an adrenaline high to make a girl’s head start pounding like a mother. She forced herself not to glance over her shoulder, to see which way Batman was moving, and concentrated on the order line in front of her.

God, she’d probably just passed up THE most interesting story she’d come across so far. An immortal who himself confessed to being ‘old,’ who could heal in sixty seconds and who wasn’t a shifter? Aside from those weird vampire kids from the 1800’s she’d stumbled upon the other day, he was probably the most fascinating person she’d met so far!

Of course he’d turn out to be grumpy, quiet and as gruff as a professional cowboy. Man, her luck was just crap lately.

After ordering herself a cup of coffee, she pulled out her phone as it chirped her favorite country tune. A small smile slid onto her face as she caught sight of the ID name, and with a sigh, she flipped open the phone with her customary ‘talk to me.’

“Hello, lover. What’re you wearing?”

With a laugh, Roxy leaned against the counter, shaking her head. Justine, the eldest of her younger sisters, was a nut job, and liked to make sure that everyone knew it. “Oh, the usual; shitkickers and miniskirt. What’s up, baby boo?”

As the conversation turned to normal chatter- complaints about the St. James brood, boyfriend troubles, certain blind dates that her college-bound sister was always dying to set up for her- she couldn’t help but grin wider. Just leave it to family to make a girl realize that the loss of a hot Batman figure wasn’t the end of the world. She’d just sit there in the shop, ‘uh huh’ at the right times, and forget about Mr. Tall, Dark and Snarly. She didn’t need the ajida of being insulted anyway.

Ugh, forget that, man. She was SO gonna be having dreams about tonight until she went insane.

Plopping down at a table facing the window, she propped her feet up on the chair next to her, sipping at her coffee and snorting as her sister proceeded to describe how stupid their youngest sister was. As the eldest of the pack, she did her duty; calmed riled emotions and informed Justine that it wasn’t nice to fantasize about hanging one’s sibling by their pigtails. She was relaxing, doing her best not to think about Batman or the curiosity that was practically EATING her BRAIN…

And then, there he was. Poof, out of nowhere, making himself comfortable right across from her was the man of the hour himself. If she were a cartoon, her mouth would have hit the floor with a loud ‘thud.’

“Roxy? Rox, you still there?” Justine’s voice brought her out of the initial shock, and she turned a bit away from her Samaritan.

“Yeah, Teeny, I’m here. But I’ve actually gotta run. A…friend just popped in. I’ll give you a call tomorrow, alright? Get to studying so you don’t freak out about that econ exam.”

“Oh HELL no, Roxy! That was a man’s voice! And he didn’t sound like your annoying coworkers! Who’s there? Are you on a date? Did I hear something about questions? Ooh, is that a story you’re working on—“

“GoodBYE, Justine,” With a little shake of her head, she snapped the phone closed, slowly bringing her feet down from the chair next to her. Holy crap, he’d followed her into the café. Did he suddenly have a change of heart about babbling?

Probably not, given the pained expression on his face. Snap, there went that curiosity again.

Hooking one arm on the back of her chair, she looked at him with a raised brow. “Alright…let’s start with an easy one first. What’s your name? I’d love to keep calling you ‘Batman,’ but that brow twitch of yours looks painful. I’d hate to see your eyeball explode because of a little nickname. Glad you changed your mind, by the way. I just LOVE watching you look constipated every time I open my mouth.”

[theron]

Humanity.

Theron had no clue how much he missed it. After struggling so hard to shut himself off from the world, try to pretend he didn’t even exist in hope that the world would believe him and slip away. No matter how much he liked to pretend he didn’t care anymore, that way he wouldn’t have to deal with losing those he cared about when time took its implacable course.

What a fool he was, all it took was a babbling girl to show some interest in his existence for him how frail his façade really were.

In truth he had no idea what he was expecting to accomplish there, was he eager to share his tale? No, he wasn’t so eager to remember his crime, willingly relieve his loss.

Perhaps all he hoped was that she would remind him that he wasn’t completely dead inside, that there was more to this than the pain he carried inside. Logic told him it was a burden she probably wouldn’t be able to help him bear, but he wasn’t caring much about logic, he just didn’t wanted to be alone.

“I’d hate to be reduced to a fictional character or confused for some sort of a hero,” he started. Heavens! Would he start babbling now?

“Theron, the name is Theron.”

Leaning back on his seat, he eyed the dark haired woman.

She would probably believe him to be insane if he was to tell her the whole story. A warrior form a dead civilization, a tool to the gods, a dragon rider. And let’s not forget a killer, Astraea made sure he would forever remember that.

But for some reason the Spartan felt the urge to let some other soul in this world to know that he was still there, aware of the simple fact that he existed.

How he missed the bounds of friendship as his thoughts unconsciously stretched out and reached for a dormant friend. Half world away, Draco stirred in his slumber, remembering the connection he shared with him.

Slowly the giant dragon moved after centuries of remaining still he crawled his way out of the deep bowels of the darkened cave and reached the world outside, spreading his gargantuan wings lazily as he raised his head to gaze at the moon.

And into the night, he took flight.