Shadows and Light Ch. 12

Chapter 12: Pillow talk and heart to hearts

Finn woke to dawn beginning to peak through his windows. Simon was curled up, his head resting in the hollow of Finn's shoulder and an arm casually thrown over his waist. Smiling, Finn stroked his fingers through Simon's close cropped, silky blonde hair and listened to his steady breathing. His close physical association with the tall academic had sharpened his psychic connection to him. Although he would never intentionally probe someone's feelings without permission he couldn't help picking up on strong emotions when he was in close contact with Simon. For all of Simon's apparent strength and confidence, he was very aware of a great feeling of loneliness and real fear that Finn didn't return his very strong feelings. Finn's feelings had never been in doubt; it was the reaction of his family that worried him. Ian's positive reaction had reassured him greatly. His father would just have to accept it.

Simon shifted and raised his head a bit.

"Good morning love," said Finn, smiling into Simon's pale blue, sleep hooded eyes.

Simon smiled back. "I love waking up with you," he rumbled in his deep voice. "What are you smiling about?"

"Just wondering how we are going to get all of my stuff in your house," Finn replied teasingly. "We might have to build an addition."

"You, you meant it then?" Simon asked softly, his eyes searching Finn's face.

"Of course I meant it," Finn replied, "you were very convincing." He could feel the relief and joy his words gave Simon.

"Are you sure?" he asked quietly. "I don't want to push you into something you are not ready for." His eyes were anxious.

Finn pulled Simon up into a tender kiss. "I don't want to hide what I feel for you either," he said between kisses. "I want to be with you."

Joy surged through Simon, Finn could feel it. Simon wrapped both arms around him and buried his face in the crook of Finn's neck. Finn could feel the tangle of joy, relief, and need, roil through Simon's mind, even as he could feel the slight tremors that shook his body. He stroked the planes of Simon's broad back as he felt Simon gather control over his emotions.

Pale blue eyes held sheen of tears as he met Finn's brown eyes. "I love you," he said hoarsely.

"Right back at you babe," Finn replied with a smile, pulling Simon into another kiss. He could feel Simon's arousal along with his own need. "Can we get a dog?"

Simon laughed, "Where did that come from?"

Finn laughed right back, stretching slightly and wrapping his arms around Simon. "I have always wanted a dog. Maybe we could rescue one from a shelter. We would just have to fence part of the yard, there is plenty of room."

Laughing at the enthusiasm in Finn's voice Simon nodded, "ok."

Lips met and tangled in a kiss. Finn could feel his body rousing to hardness as he stroked every part of Simon he could reach. It still astounded him the passion this man could arouse in him. Finn's soft lips trailed down to Simon's neck where he gave it a lick and a mock bite. Simon moaned. At this rate, they would never get out of bed and he was finding that he really didn't care.

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Isabelle put down the fork full of hash browns she had been ready to eat and gave Ian her full attention. "You did what?" She had been disappointed to wake alone again and had been pleasantly surprised when Ian had appeared with a breakfast tray in her room. They were sitting at the small table that she had been drawing at the day before.

"I made an appointment for you to see Jack, a psychiatrist friend of mine," he said again. He was surprised by her tone and the look on her face.

"I don't think so," she said icily, glaring at him.

At a loss for words, Ian just stared at her. "Why not?" he asked, "Jack is a great guy, experienced, and he knows my family so he won't think you are delusional or anything."

"If he is so wonderful why don't you go see him," she replied, clenching her teeth. How dare he, how dare he!

"My appointment is for next week," Ian replied evenly.

Isabelle just looked at him completely speechless.

"What?" said Ian, "you don't think that I need a little help sorting through what's happened in the last month?"

"But, but, your not crazy or anything," blurted Isabelle. She felt a bit off balance at his response.

Ian stared at her, "What do you mean crazy?"

Isabelle dropped her eyes to the tabletop and refused to meet his gaze.

"Isabelle," he said, "just because you go to a shrink doesn't mean you are crazy. I'm just having some problems with the fact that the brother that I have known since my birth, who was basically a substitute father to me, was a psychotic serial killer."

He took a sip of the orange juice that he had been drinking to keep her company while she ate her breakfast. "I knew him for the seventy-six years of my life and I didn't notice anything about him that was off. He was killing all of those people and I didn't notice anything!" His voice choked up at this point.

Isabelle just sat there, staring at her plate, the silence stretched for several long seconds. "I'm sorry," she said in a small voice.

"It's hardly your fault Isabelle," Ian replied, mentally trying to pull himself together. "I guess I just assumed that you would want someone to talk too. Someone that could help you deal with what happened to you so you can go forward with your life." Ian stretched out a hand and lifted her chin, "Isabelle, please look at me, please."

Isabelle's eyes were tear-filled as she looked up at Ian.

"I don't think that you are crazy," he told her, cupping the side of her face. "I think you are incredibly strong for being able to survive what Cullen did to you," his eyes caught hers and held them. "But I don't want what happened to you to hold you back. The longer you wait the harder it will be."

Isabelle mutely shook her head in denial.

"Yes it will," he responded, shifting closer to her. "I will never forgive myself if your life isn't a happy one. What about future lovers, what about children?" he asked, "Is it fair to them or to you to have to carry that baggage around in your soul? That is the kind of thing that will haunt you and keep you from fully embracing your life."

Isabelle's chin shook and the tears slid down her cheeks, leaving shiny trails in their wake.

"Jack can help you talk things out so you can put that part of your life behind you. You deserve to get the nightmares out of the closet. I promise you that Jack is the kindest person in the world. He is a good friend of mine," Ian's eyes were shining with intensity, trying to make her believe him. "He can help you with the nightmares, Isabelle."

"But I have you." The words slipped out almost unheard. Almost.

Ian was jolted to the center of his being. Isabelle's teary blue eyes held him motionless, her breathing shook as she realized that her thought had just been spoken out loud.

Very slowly, Ian inched closer to her, looking for any sign of hesitance or fear. What he saw was absolute trust and something else he couldn't name that made his insides shake. He pulled her, ever so carefully to him and with a mingling of breaths their lips met in a gentle kiss.

Isabelle's head whirled with the gentle pressure of Ian's lips on hers, soft and warm, gentle and loving. Ian made a small movement as if to pull away and her hands slid up to his neck automatically, to keep him next to her. She could smell the heady scent of him; almost taste him. Need like she had never known rose up within as she returned that kiss with everything in her. Opening her lips slightly, she nuzzled him into a series of kisses that left her breathless. Her tongue slipped out and she tasted him at last, sweet with the taste of oranges and mint. She could feel the groan in his chest as he met her in a melting kiss that was gentle even as he tried to devour her.

Ian murmured her name over and over between kisses, trying desperately to reign in his need to claim this woman as his own. Her arms were around him and her fingers stroking through his hair. Her sweet lips clung to his and his tongue explored her mouth. The mental shielding he had put up began to fade as he touched her. He could feel the tremendous need in her and the sense of completion she felt in his arms. He could also feel the tension and desperation for his touch.

Tears continued to fall as Isabelle responded ardently to each kiss. Ian wiped them away, pressing tiny kisses over her face. "Why the tears sweetheart," he asked in a husky voice as he continued caressing her.

"I never thought you would want me," she sobbed.

Ian pulled her pajama clad body into his lap and held her close, stroking her hair. "Isabelle, look at me," he said softly.

Isabelle's teary blue eyes met his warm brown. "I want you very much Isabelle, but I don't want to scare you."

Isabelle smiled through her tears. "I trust you. You would never hurt me."

Ian swallowed against the lump in his throat, "It is myself I don't trust love, I want you so badly. I don't want to scare you." He pulled her into a hug, savoring the feel of every inch of her pressed against him. "I can wait as long as it takes," he said into her soft black hair, finding that he meant every word.

He was beyond grateful that he was managing to keep his lust for her under control, particularly when he could feel her arousal as well as the other emotions swirling through her. Although he felt a wave of guilt for the afternoon he had spent fucking, he realized that this moment would have been ten times harder without it.

"Ian?" Isabelle whispered against his throat.

"Yes love?"

"Would you do something for me?"

"Anything love."

She pulled back until she could look him in the eye, "I want you to feed from me."

Ian opened his mouth, his eyes wide with protest. Isabelle covered his mouth with her hand. "Hear me out," she said. She waited until he nodded before removing it.

She paused for a minute, trying to gather her thoughts into some semblance of coherence. "Feeding is something that you would share with a lover isn't it?"

Ian nodded.

"Ian, I don't want to be some fragile child that you feel you have to protect. I want to be able to share everything with you, every part of you. This is something that is a more than a part of you."

"We don't have to start anything right at this moment Isabelle," Ian replied after a moment, "we have all the time in the world to see how we fit together."

"Maybe so," she replied, "but..."

He shushed her with a soft kiss.

"Unfortunately, we should probably get you dressed. Mr. Witherspoon wants to meet you before he heads out for the day."

"Do I have to?" Isabelle asked, tucking her head in to the crook of Ian's neck and snuggling in. "I really don't want to move from this spot, ever."

Ian gave a halfhearted groan,"I really don't want you to move either." He nuzzled her silky hair. They sat like that for quite a while, just enjoying one another, before reality could intrude.

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Finn stood in the shower letting the hot water pound on him from the showerhead as well as the body sprays on three sides. Finn was actually a bit stronger and had a good deal more stamina than his larger lover. His healing capabilities being what they were, he was up and ready for the day after their morning tryst and a brief rest. Simon on the other hand had fallen deeply asleep and Finn doubted that a tornado would wake him. He smiled to himself as he ran his soapy hands over his body. Simon had awakened a deep sensuality in him that he didn't even know he was capable of.

He wondered occasionally if Simon would be interested in changing roles after their relationship had become more established. Early on in the dating phase of their relationship Simon had described himself as "a total top". They hadn't really discussed it after that. He was happy with the way things were now but he was still curious what it would be like to be inside of his lover and make him feel as incredible as Simon made him feel. Just the thought of making Simon feel so totally claimed and loved made him hard.

He soaped up his hardening length. His size wouldn't be a problem, he was fairly average in width even if he was a little longer than most. Simon was thicker and longer yet and Finn still marveled at the way his body accepted him inside. His cock at full mast now, Finn gave into the fantasy of Simon behind him in the shower, stroking him, rubbing his own hard length against his ass, taking him, possessing him, loving him, pleasuring him. He came with a small cry, splashing his climax against the warmed tile where it was washed away by the pounding water.

As he toweled off a few minutes later he began to mentally pack his apartment. Some things could go in long term storage, others he would need to move fairly soon. He smiled, he hadn't realized that he would be so excited about moving again, but he was.

He would need to tell his father and soon. He wasn't looking forward to it. In many ways he was very old fashioned and his opinion on the gay population was one of them. He had never let it affect his business decisions, (he was one of those that had voted in favor of keeping Simon on retainer for the Council) but he did not approve of Simon as a person, no matter how useful he was. Finn truly did not know how his father would take the news, probably not well in any case. He dreaded the idea that his father might cut ties with him. He had no intention of giving Simon up for any reason, but he truly cared deeply for his father and was not looking forward to the potential breach.

He sighed. He would give it a few more days and then break the news to him. Who knows, maybe the loss of Cullen would make him realize that he didn't want to loose another son for such a biased reason. Maybe they could get it to work out.

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Meeting Mr. Witherspoon was rather anti-climactic for Isabelle. He was by appearances in his forties but she suspected that he was a good deal older. He looked quite ordinary, blonde hair, blue eyes and a three piece suit that looked straight off of a showroom floor.

He just skimmed over what happened and asked her if she had any details to add.

"Not really, but I do have some things I need to discuss with you," she replied.

He looked a bit surprised, "Of course."

"I would like all of the information that he collected on my family, "she said firmly. She had obviously caught him completely off guard. And then she saw the suave negotiator come out.

"Most of that information hasn't even been processed yet Miss Jackson. Once it has I am sure that we can make arrangements."

"No I don't think so," Isabelle disagreed. "That information is private and doesn't need to be processed. The only reason you have to keep it is to appease your curiosity. That is not acceptable."

Witherspoon glanced at Ian and saw stunned surprise, he wasn't going to get any help from that quarter. "Miss Jackson..."

"There will be no Miss Jacksoning your way out of this Mr. Witherspoon," interrupted Isabelle firmly, "Panthers may be loners for the most part, but they are certainly aligned with the more populous packs and respect territorial boundaries. I don't want to have to drag the local Were population into this but I will if I have to. That is an entirely different ball of wax ,that I don't think you want to deal with."

Mr. Witherspoon had underestimated her, badly. And apparently she knew that he was between a rock and a hard place. He had not expected this from the delicately fragile appearing woman on the couch. He had expected to interview a victim, not a...well... panther.

"I think we can make some arrangements with Mr. Drake since he is compiling the data for the council."

Isabelle repressed the wide grin that wanted to escape and said her goodbye's without rubbing in her victory. Once Mr. Witherspoon was gone she let the grin out. Ian just shook his head. She was full of surprises today.

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Simon delved into Cullen's work computer. He hadn't hit the office until noon, even though he had planned to be there much earlier. Finn had finally dragged him out of bed around 10 and they had gone out for a quick breakfast. It was a Saturday and the fact that no one was in the office made it easier for him to concentrate on the large quantities of data that Cullen had on his computer.

He had already searched the office from top to bottom, not finding anything more incriminating than Ian had. So that left the computer. He was not an expert but the Council did not have a member that was capable of doing what he was doing and so he had won the duty by default. He had shaken his head at that one. With as many duties that he was already doing on this case he resented more being piled on. Why the Council, as well established and powerful as it was, couldn't hire a fucking expert he didn't know.

He had already copied the hard drive onto his laptop and was currently perusing the e-mails, current and deleted. He had his favorite classical music playing. He had long ago found out that classical music helped him concentrate whereas modern music was just too distracting. Although even that wasn't helping him at the moment: right now he would really rather been in bed with Finn. He shifted in his chair remembering the night before, Finn's slim muscular body under his writhing with need. He groaned, he was never going to get this done.

He didn't hear the door being unlocked, opened and then closed and relocked, any more than he heard the nearly silent footsteps. Simon's first clue that something was wrong was a warm hand on the back of his neck and blinding pain behind his eyes that left him feeling disconnected and sick.

"What have we here?" came a low voice that he did not recognize. "How quaint, they sent a human all by himself."

Simon tried to move, to yell and found that he was unable to do more than blink.

"Let's see what we have here shall we. Maybe you can fill me in on where Cullen is and why his family is acting so strangely."

Simon could feel gentle hands on his head, one on each side, then a tickle. Not outside but inside his skull. 'Oh shit' he thought to himself, trying to put up mental blocks. He had never been very good at it or very interested in it and as a consequence had neglected to practice.

His visitor chuckled, "A bit late for that isn't it?"

The tickle became a pressure and the pressure became a sharp pain and then suddenly images of the last few days and weeks began to stream past his conscience mind. He could feel the individual threads of thought being forcefully pulled to the forefront of his mind and carefully examined. The pain ebbed and flowed with the push and pull; moans tried to escape his locked throat unsuccessfully.

"Dead," the voice breathed, "that's not possible!" The voice was a shriek now. "I still feel him. I knew something was wrong, but not dead, not dead."

Simon screamed internally as thoughts of how Cullen had died and Isabelle's recovery were ripped from his mind. His head felt like it was going to explode; if he could have he would have been writhing on the floor screaming in agony.

"That bitch, that bitch. How dare she. He couldn't have wanted her as anything but a play toy, you're wrong, he couldn't want her!!"

Simon was beyond hearing the harsh pants and angry words.

"We will just have to fix that. Yes, we can fix it. His body is still there. You aren't due back till late afternoon, hmmm, we have plenty of time to work on you. How would you like to help me out huh? Of course you will. You are fucking Finn!! Why that little fag. That could work to my advantage, why yes it could. I think it is time to change your mind on a few things my dear. Don't worry, it will hurt like hell but you won't remember any of it until I need you too."