The Gorgon cave, 2003

[mycursedface]

Medusa leads Sam through the front door of Milliways into her home. Her cave. Although, really, 'cave' doesn't quite cover it. It's cool, though, and directly in front of them is an open courtyard (the roof of that cavern had fallen in a thousand years before, and the girls had always been practical). There are blue tiles, mostly, all in perfect, quiet geometric patterns. Some potted plants, and a fountain (not drip, drip, drip - it's a proper wall fountain, steady as pouring out a jug). It's late afternoon, judging by the sun.

The other thing that is noticable is the magic. The girls have lived in that cave since the Sahara was an Eden of rivers and lakes, and in all those thousands of years, the magic has built up and up until it's a mesh of protection, safety, warding and comfort that not even the girls themselves really know how to unravel.

This is Medusa's home, though, and she knows it. What she doesn't know is the expression on Sam's face.

Comments

[mycursedface]

Medusa's always ran hotter than most, and standing underneath hot water hasn't really altered this much. Now her hands are free, she has one on his shoulder and the other pressed firmly against his beating heart.

Almost a reassurance that he's okay.

[necessary_child]

Sam's fingers trace small circles along her side, for a little while, before the hand moves slowly to the flies of her jeans, slow enough to give her plenty of time to react and stop him if she wants to, his eyes flicking open, briefly, to watch her face.

[mycursedface]

Ask him to stop? Not really. Ask him to please, do continue, darling?

Only if he stops.

Her smile is a quick, darting thing as she kisses his mouth again, lightly, then his jaw, then his neck.

[necessary_child]

To be fair, he's not exactly up to speed when it comes to new, modern Medusa yet.

Her jeans are carefully undone and pushed down, nonetheless, because after all she did promise.

[mycursedface]

So she did. And now comes the tricky part, and if anyone has worked out how to get out of soaking jeans gracefully, she doesn't know it. She breaks away and wriggles out of them, kicking out of the way once they fall to the tiles.

She ducks her head then, twisting her arms behind her to undo the buttons of her singlet.

[necessary_child]

There probably isn't a way, but Sam doesn't mind; it gives him a very pleasant view of her rear as she wriggles out of them, for one thing.

He kisses her forehead as she undoes her top.

"Lovely, lovely Meda," he says again, softly against her hair and snakes. "Lovely, lovely."

[mycursedface]

He's there, so he must be kissed.

"Love you, mm, Luce? I do," she says just as soft, tossing her top onto her jeans before looking up properly and framing his face in her small hands.

[necessary_child]

He doesn't flail, which is surprising.

"I know," he says instead, running his hands all the way up her sides and down her arms. "I know."

[mycursedface]

The movement makes Medusa shiver, but her smile widens.

"Good."

[necessary_child]

"Good," He repeats, and kisses her again, slowly.

And maybe this won't make everything better, but it certainly won't make anything worse, so Sam's hands run slowly up Medusa's arms again and around behind her back to undo her bra.

[mycursedface]

Sex is not always about lust or passion or other things that run hot and deep and, occasionally, dark. It can be about love, as sappy and old-fashioned as that can sound, and that's how Medusa has always run things. It can be about comfort, reassurance with tongues and hands and bodies and soft words that i love you and you're okay and i won't leave you.

Which is why Medusa slides her hand around the back of Sam's neck and presses herself close against him.

[necessary_child]

Sam laughs, softly, not mad at all this time, and pulls her closer still.

And maybe this really won't fix everything. But it may well help.