Interloper pt 1 "Ah, mon dieu! Quelle horreur…!"
Cloud choked back a giggle as Stephan flung his hands in the air, eyes wide, at the sight of Devon. He looked almost exactly as Devon had imitated him…
"Au bain! Maintenant! VITE!!"
Laughing, Devon stripped off his - admittedly grubby - clothes and sauntered naked into the bathroom. Stephan turned to Cloud.
"Merci, ma petite. Mais I would like to 'ave Devon to myself, tonight."
Which was fair enough, thought Cloud to herself. She'd be busy getting Rowan settled anyway - and Stephan hadn't seen his lover in four days… She kissed the Frenchman's cheek.
"See you tomorrow?"
"Most assuredly." He glanced over his shoulder as Devon growled at him from the bathroom. "'is master's voice… Bonne nuit, Nuage…"Devon was running the water when Stephan entered, pouring in a plentiful amount of his favourite bubble bath. Stephan fisted a hand in the tangled copper mane, pulled Devon to him and kissed the TK thoroughly, only pulling back to breathe.
"Ah, I 'ave missed you, mon petit…"
Devon smirked and rocked his hips against his lover's rigid, weeping erection.
"Yeah, I can tell…" He grinned and kissed the Frenchman. "I missed you too."
Luxuriating in the TK's closeness, Stephan nuzzled his neck for a moment, then lightly slapped his arse.
"Come - you need to bathe. An' I must do something with this 'orrible mess…"
He tugged on a hank of mane, and Devon smirked.
"Missed that, too…"Standing under a hot shower, Stephan behind him lathering his hair, Devon relaxed, soaking up the comfort. It had been fun to get away - but he was fucking glad to be back. He sighed as Stephan's strong fingers massaged his scalp, teasing out the tangles and rinsing away the suds thoroughly before sleeking in a rich conditioner.
"That is better. Now we can 'ave a bath…"
And make love, of course, thought Devon happily as he slid into the Frenchman's hot and eager body. Stephan came almost immediately, nearly ducking them both under as he gripped Devon tightly, whole body spasming, kissing the TK frenziedly. Devon gritted his teeth and managed to not climax, holding still until Stephan had stopped shaking then gazing a little anxiously into his eyes.
"You OK?"
"Oui, mon amour…" Stephan stroked his face tenderly. "I 'ave missed you, that is all."
Devon sighed, then pulled his lover down against his chest, thrusting firmly up into his body, feeling Stephan grow erect again. They came together, more gently this time, and afterwards Stephan eased himself off Devon's slackening cock, wincing a little. The TK frowned.
"What's wrong?"
"It is nothing."
"Someone hurt you?"
Stephan laughed.
"No. I am fine. I am just a little sore."
Devon smirked.
"Oh? You play too rough with Hans?"
Stephan smiled.
"No, I 'ave not 'ad anyone since you went away."
Devon blinked.
"Why the fuck not?"
Stephan shrugged.
"I did not feel like it."
That didn't sound like Stephan, but right now Devon wasn't going to argue. The water was cooling, he needed to rinse out this conditioner before his hair got so silky it'd slip through his fingers, he felt hungry, and he wanted Stephan again, in bed this time. Preferably up his arse, if Stephan could get it up a third time…
Stephan could, and proceeded to fuck his lover slowly and thoroughly, fondling his cock, tweaking the nipple bars, gliding over his prostate with sure and practised strokes and nearly driving Devon wild. Half an hour later, shaking from one of the most intense orgasms he'd ever had, Devon curled up in Stephan's arms, drowsy and sated.
"Fuck, Stephan…"
"Any time, mon cher…"
A discreet tap at the door heralded the arrival of their meal, a variety of dishes from a variety of different countries that had Devon's mouth watering. They fed each other, and afterwards Stephan stroked Devon's hair back from his face, dark eyes smiling.
"You 'ave training again tomorrow. We 'ad better get some sleep."
Devon, already yawning, nodded and slithered down into the bed.
"Yeah… please…"
Stephan swiftly cleared away the debris: by the time he got back to bed, Devon was nearly asleep. Sighing happily, he spooned up behind the TK, cradling him protectively as they both dozed off…It had been an exhausting training session. James was determined to criticise every last little thing, and Devon was thoroughly pissed off by the time they finished for lunch. As the TK turned to leave, the 'path laid a hand heavily on his shoulder. He glowered back into James' handsome face.
"A warning to you, Welsh. Next time you feel like visiting Cloudie, you check with the switchboard first, and you bloody knock when you get there."
Devon glared.
"Who the fuck are you to give me orders about my private life?"
He winced as James gradually increased the pressure on his shoulder.
"I'm the friend who has no fucking intention of allowing a cocky little slut like you to hurt Cloudie."
"Hurt…! You arrogant bastard!"
The pressure was painful now - Devon knew he'd have a bruise there later. He snarled up into James' eyes.
"Cloud's an adult, you fucking prick - she can make up her own mind what she wants to do…"
He bit his lip as the 'path's nails sank into his skin, and instinctively used his TK to lift James' hand roughly from his body, pain and anger making him more forceful than was perhaps necessary. As his TK threatened to crush the 'path's fingers, James countered with a blast of pain to Devon's mind. The TK screamed and dropped to his knees, arms over his head. James sneered down at him.
"Pathetic. You're a pathetic little waste of time. Why don't you just crawl back under the stone you came from?"
Breathless and speechless, vision still white with pain, Devon didn't hear him leave. Long, long minutes passed before he was able to drag himself to his feet and stumble back to his quarters.Stephan wasn't there, fortunately. With shaking hands Devon poured himself a glass of water and fumbled a couple of analgesics from their packet: he didn't like taking them but the pain felt like it was splitting his head open. He managed to swallow them, then lay on the bed and waited for them to take effect…
What the fuck was he going to do? If he complained, or asked for another trainer, James would have won. And he'd be fucked if he let the bastard win. On the other hand… Could he be right? Cloud was obviously very happy with him. He was older, more powerful, more experienced, better placed to look after the tinkerer. She'd known him for a long time, they had a long-standing relationship… Should he back off?
He frowned as he suddenly realised no-one had responded to his pain. Generally speaking, the scanners kept an *eye* on events at HQ, to make sure nothing untoward happened. James must be *blocking* it, he thought. Unless he was doing it himself; he certainly didn't want anyone to know about this.
Rubbing at his forehead as the pain slowly receded, he pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the bed, absently massaging the bruised shoulder. He needed some time to himself. To think.
The park. The park was always a good place to think.Somewhat to his surprise it was almost deserted - but then again it was something of a grey, overcast day. He was slouching towards the duckpond when a figure caught his eye - a slight figure standing on one of the bridges, facing away from him…
He frowned. There was something strange… Was - she? he? - wearing some sort of hat or something? A fall of gold and brown and grey and russet covered the head and the upper part of the back… Intrigued, he walked closer, eyes widening as the - whatever it was - resolved itself into what looked like feathers…
The head turned, and he caught sight of a beautiful profile, then the figure turned to him, and he halted.
An owl. Wide golden eyes in a delicate high-cheekboned face, the soft, soft plumage started where her eyebrows would have been and continued over her head in a glorious fluff of richly speckled feathers.
She smiled.
"Hello. You must be Devon."
He swallowed. The voice was soft, and deep, and rich - caressing.
"Uh, yeah… 'fraid I don't know who you are…?"
She held out a hand.
"Athena."
He took her hand and raised it to his lips, brushing a kiss over the fingers. The name was vaguely familiar… Then he remembered. Athena was Agency, a strong telepath, with a quirk: she was able to - not exactly force people to feel things, rather to guide them into feeling what she wanted them to… She'd been on assignment overseas for the last year, infiltrating certain 'groups'. The feathers were a personal preference, but helped her in her work: the vast majority of people believed that physical modification had the same effect as cybernetic mods on psis, nullifying their talents - hence, if she had physical mods, she couldn't possibly be a psi, could she?
She was beautiful.
She smiled.
"Why thank you!"
He bit his lip.
"You read my mind?"
She laughed.
"No, only your body language. I don't delve into minds unless so instructed."
"Oh. Glad to hear it…"
She eyed him with affectionate good humour for a moment, then inclined her head. It made her look even more birdlike.
"Devon, would you join me for lunch? I've not long arrived back, initial debriefing took an unconscionable length of time, and I'm hungry."
He grinned.
"Love to!"Devon was moodily thoughtful, distracted, when he arrived back in his quarters in the middle of the afternoon. Stephan was already there, typing up a couple of reports: he frowned at the TK.
"Should you not still be training?"
Devon blinked, then nodded ruefully.
"Yeah, but it was cancelled."
Stephan frowned: that sounded - odd… He watched as Devon eased out of his tee-shirt and peered at his shoulder, eyes widening at the sight of the bruising.
"What 'appened, cheri?"
Devon jumped - he'd actually forgotten Stephan was there. He shrugged.
"I was fucking careless. Judo class. Landed badly, that's all."
Ah, oui. Certainement. An awkward landing always gave you a hand-shaped bruise… James. Merde…
"Devon? If James has assaulted you you should report it…"
The TK frowned at his lover.
"I told you, it was just a bad landing."
Well, no-one could force Devon to complain if he chose not to. Though Stephan was going to take his suspicions to Greg as soon as the 'path got back from his current assignment, and ask that someone keep a special *eye* on his lover…James wasn't entirely sure whether to be pleased or annoyed when Devon turned up, exactly on time, for training the following day. He was certainly not pleased with the TK's attitude.
Devon froze him out. Obeyed instructions punctiliously, did not rise to taunts and insults, spoke tersely only when spoken to, even refused to respond with anything more than a grimace and a wince when James grabbed his shoulder hard, pressing into the bruises he'd made yesterday.
James didn't know what to do. A brief *scan* into the upper levels of Devon's mind had him retreating fast - the TK was focussing hard on random images, sounds, emotions, sensations, of being fucked, violently, with and without his consent… The little shit had learned how to keep his trainer out of his mind!
Well, out of the top levels of his mind, with a casual scan, anyway. And right now James had no justification for anything deeper. Yes, fair enough to hit back in self-defence, but anything else and he was facing disciplinary proceedings. His enmity for Devon was well-known: top 'path he might be, but that didn't exempt him from following the rules.
He pushed the TK harder instead…Greg scowled.
"You believe it was James?"
Stephan nodded.
"I cannot think 'oo else it might 'ave been."
"Things are no better between them, then."
"Non. Worse, I believe."
The big 'path sighed.
"And you're worried…"
Yes, Stephan was worried. Devon had been withdrawn last night, showering alone, then curling up in the bed, not responding when his lover had caressed him.
"Mon cher, what is wrong?"
After a moment Devon mumbled,
"Nothin'. 'm tired, Stephan."
The Frenchman kissed his neck softly.
"Then you must sleep. Do you want me to go?"
Devon hesitated, then shook his head.
"No. Just… cuddle, OK?"
"But of course, mon petit."And that's what they did. But Stephan didn't need to be a talent to feel the tension in the thin body in his arms, and it was several hours before Devon dropped into an uneasy sleep.
And this morning he'd been unusually quiet and withdrawn, and now Stephan was worried. Devon was a tempestuous little thing, but in the main good tempered: it was unlike him to brood for long.
Greg agreed.
"I don't like doing this, but I'm going to risk a distance scan. He won't know I've been in his mind, but it will let us know if there's something we need to do."
Stephan swallowed and closed his eyes briefly, then clasped Greg's forearm.
"Merci, mon ami."
Greg smiled and kissed his cheek. He'd never seen Stephan so concerned about a lover. He had to assume the relationship was serious, at least on Stephan's side. He wondered if Stephan realised it yet.
"This is between you and me, you understand. It's not exactly against the Agency's code of conduct, but it's definitely unethical."
The Frenchman nodded.
"I understand. But I 'ave to know, Greg. Devon is… 'e is not used to the way the world can be."
"An innocent, you mean."
Stephan grinned wryly.
"I would not say that, exactly. But…" He sighed, and the 'path nodded.
"I know what you mean… Well, let's see if we can find out what the problem is, shall we?"
Greg sat cross-legged on the floor of the main room in his quarters, breathing rhythmically, eyes closing as he *felt* his way into Devon's mind.
Aware that it might take a little while, that Greg had to go slowly to make sure Devon - or any other 'path - didn't realise what he was doing, Stephan sat himself on a low, dusty-red leather couch and gazed around the room. He was intrigued by the eclectic but attractive blend of Spanish baroque - Emilio's influence at a guess - and the earth-toned, turquoise-accented echoes of Greg's own Amerindian heritage. It was cosy, and solid, and very comforting.
Greg sighed, then stretched slowly, opening his eyes and regarding the Frenchman sombrely.
"Well, you were right, James is making things unnecessarily hard for Devon. However," he held up a hand as Stephan scowled and opened his mouth, "your petit amour has found an interesting way to counter his trainer…"
Stephan grinned as Greg explained, then shook his head admiringly.
"Ah, 'e is a sharp one, our Devon!"
"He is that!"
"An' that is why 'e is not 'imself?"
"Ah." Greg's face was shadowed. "Not entirely."
Stephan frowned.
"What, then?"
"Have you heard of - or met - Athena?"
"L'hibou? Oui. I 'ave met 'er. A fine agent. It was a long time ago, 'owever."
Greg nodded.
"Yes, she's only just arrived back."
"An' what does l'hibou 'ave to do with Devon?"
Given Stephan's unspoken feelings for the TK, Greg wasn't at all sure how he'd take the news.
"Devon met her yesterday: they had lunch, and dinner last night."
The Frenchman frowned.
"'e was late coming 'ome."
"Yes, they talked for a long time…"
Stephan's eyes narrowed.
"'e 'as… taken a fancy to 'er?"
"If you want to put it that way, yes."
Stephan stood and began to pace, chewing on a thumb-knuckle.
"Athena is part of James' team, no?"
Greg nodded.
"Did 'e order 'er to… to… seduce Devon?"
Greg hesitated.
"I… think probably not. But I couldn't say for certain without scanning her, and I can't do that without her permission, in a casual cause."
"This is not casual!"
The 'path placed his hands on the marksman's shoulders.
"But that's how the Agency would see it."
Growling, Stephan subsided and flopped back onto the couch.
"'ow serious is it?"
"On Devon's part, very. He's completely fascinated."
Which made sense: Athena was a fascinating woman. Greg cupped Stephan's chin in a large hand - the Frenchman looked miserable and apprehensive.
"He's not going to leave you, Stephan. You're one of the mainstays of his life, whether he realises it or not."
"Per'aps…"
Greg frowned.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Stephan tensed.
"About what?"
"You. And Devon."
The Frenchman eyed him warily.
"There is nothing to talk about. We are friends, that is all."
OK. He either hadn't admitted it to himself yet, or he was denying it. Either way Greg had no intention of interfering, not at this stage: that would cause far more harm than good. He nodded.
"Very well. You know I'm always here if anything is troubling you."
Stephan relaxed and forced a smile.
"Merci."
He glanced up as the door opened: Emilio sauntered in, grinning whitely. Greg chuckled as his partner wrapped a long arm around his waist and kissed him soundly.
"Welcome back, querido!" He brushed a finger down Stephan's cheek. "Rananino… everything is well?"
The Frenchman nodded, smirking at Greg. The humour didn't reach his eyes.
"I was just leaving - you will wish to welcome Greg 'ome, no?"
"Am I interrupting…?"
"Non. We 'ave finished, n'est ce pas?"
For now, yes... Greg sighed.
"Remember, any time."
Stephan offered a quick grin and left swiftly. Emilio frowned at his lover.
"Something I said?"
Greg pulled him into a full embrace, kissing him fiercely, suddenly very grateful that they were both well past the trials and tribulations of young love…Rather to Devon's surprise, no one seemed to object to his sudden infatuation with Athena - which made him wonder if perhaps their meeting had been planned and their… it wasn't a relationship, not yet… was being guided from outside. He'd mentioned it to Athena, who'd laughed throatily and stroked his cheek.
"No, Devon. This is just two people who like each other, getting acquainted."
He couldn't get enough of her company. With her, everything else faded: away from her, he yearned to be with her… Stephan had been so understanding. Devon hadn't talked about Athena, to anyone - somehow that felt as though it would sully what they had - but the Frenchman seemed to know how he felt. On the third evening he'd wrapped his arms around Devon from behind, nuzzled his neck, and whispered,
"I am going to go back to my own rooms, mon cher. I do not wish to… 'ow is it said? 'cramp your style'."
Devon turned to him, hugging him tightly.
"'m sorry, Stephan. Do you mind?"
Forcing his unhappiness back and down, the Frenchman kissed the TK gently.
"I only want you to be 'appy, Devon. I 'ave no wish to get in your way."
"… thank you… for everything… 'm gonna miss you."
"You know where I am, if you need me."
Devon nodded, kissing him fondly, and Stephan pulled away firmly.
"I will see you soon, mon ami. Enjoy yourselves…"He hadn't been able to sleep for two nights, not properly, just dozes, and knew his work was suffering. Worse, Pamela had noticed too, and called him into the office, soft face creased with worry.
"My dear, we need to know what has happened. To you personally, I mean - we know what has happened to Devon."
"Then you know what is wrong."
Pamela regarded him appraisingly. Apart from his greater than usual pallor, and the dark shadows around his eyes, Stephan looked as dapper as ever. Inside, though… She sighed.
"You love him that much?"
Stephan flinched, then scowled.
"We are just friends. I miss 'im, that is all."
Pamela nodded knowingly.
"Very well. I'm ordering a week's holiday, Stephan. I want you to rest, relax, go and do something you haven't had time for recently. When was the last time you went to a concert, or the opera? An art gallery? Why don't you get right away from here for a few days - stay at Neurons, eat well, go out and enjoy yourself."
Stephan held himself still, shaking inside. If he left HQ, he wouldn't even see Devon in passing - but that would be a good thing, really. Greg's words notwithstanding, Devon had never considered him anything more than a fuck-mate, a friend, someone to tease and who could be counted on for a little pampering every now and then.
He nodded.
"Neurons. Bien. I will do as you suggest."
Pamela inclined her head.
"Good. Tomorrow?"
Stephan closed his eyes tiredly.
"The day after. I 'ave a class to give tomorrow."
"Will you be fit to take it?"
"Of course."
"Very well. I will book your room for Wednesday…"*Hi, Stephan.*
Cloudie's *voice*, via switchboard, *sounded* gently in the Frenchman's mind.
*'ello, Nuage.* Stephan tried to smile. *'ow are you?*
*I'm fine. Stephan - *
He waited quietly, knowing with a sinking heart why Cloudie had contacted him.
*Dev's been a bit… odd. Is everything alright?*
Stephan sighed; it would be easy to give the tinkerer some glib reassurance, but that wouldn't be fair to her.
*Non, Nuage, things are not all right…*Stephan's quarters were a slap in the face: white, pure white, the only trace of colour the black bedding and towels, the cosmetics in the bathroom, and one perfect deep purple orchid in a snowy ceramic pot sitting by his monitor. It was like… like a temple, almost as if no-one lived here… Maybe Stephan had so much personality he didn't need to imprint it on his surroundings. Or maybe he just didn't feel this was a home…
Cloudie didn't have time to ponder the question: she watched the unusually solemn Frenchman with growing trepidation. Stephan had invited her over to his quarters for dinner, promising to give an explanation of Devon's behaviour then.
"Do you know Athena?" Stephan poured out two glasses of a rich, red wine.
Cloudie nodded.
"I've met her a few times. She's very beautiful."
"Our petit has taken an interest in her."
"An interest? As in - ?" she gestured helplessly.
"Oui," Stephan sighed. "'e is… enamoured of 'er."
"…oh…" Cloudie bit her lip, more crestfallen than she'd admit to. "Oh well, people change, I suppose, relationships change - "
"'airstyles change…" Stephan interjected with an attempt at a wry smirk. "is nothing," he said in response to her questioning look, "a poor attempt at 'umour."
The two of them fell silent, then Cloudie sighed heavily.
"I suppose the most dignified thing to do would be to withdraw gracefully - not that I ever thought Dev and I were more than good friends," she added hastily, too preoccupied to notice Stephan's eyebrow lift at her statement, "but Athena's gorgeous, I can't compete with that."
"Nor can I."
The tinkerer frowned, distracted from her own unhappiness by Stephan's quiet murmur.
"Dev's… avoiding you too?" The Frenchman nodded dully, staring at the ruby-coloured liquid in his glass. "Oh, Stephan, I'm so sorry." Cloudie gripped his slim forearm compassionately.
"As you say, Nuage, people change." He shrugged eloquently.
"It would be nice if we could stay friends though…" The tinkerer took a sip of her wine, her blue-grey eyes widening in appreciation. "This really is too good a drop to get pissed on, isn't it?"
Stephan smiled tiredly at her.
"Oui, mais … as Devon would say, 'fuck that'…" He presented his glass in a toast. "Aux amis, Nuage."
"To friends." Cloudie smiled softly as they clinked their glasses together.Cloudie was long gone. Stephan had cleared up the table, and was pacing restlessly around his apartment, glass of wine in hand, achingly tired and not in the least sleepy.
Merde.
He'd never let anyone affect him like this before. Had always ended the relationship if it showed any signs of becoming serious, partly because given his lifestyle, there was no guarantee he wouldn't be killed while on assignment, and he didn't want to inflict that sort of pain on a lover. But Devon… Devon had 'snuck in' unnoticed…
It hurt to be without him.
But he didn't feel the same way. And Stephan would not intrude.
He should have said something, earlier, peut-être…
And risk being rejected. Devon hadn't wanted a serious relationship…
Stephan threw his drink against the wall, ruby liquid and glass fragments trickling down the pristine whiteness, then dropped to squat on his haunches, arms wrapped around his knees, rocking back and forth miserably as he tried futilely to stop the tears…
© 2003 August 29th Joules
Darkside
The owl.
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