[Fiction] Widdershins

[Ghostwriter]

She feels the sussuration of waves crashing against the sandy beach, even reclining on her stomach on the sunning rock as she was. She was keenly sensitive to vibration these days, her senses of touch and taste able to detect the slightest nuance in the air or on the earth. Her wings lie flat against her back, the feathers glossy and finally growing strongly now that she wasn't under stress. The sunlight made her yellow colouration look almost gold while her blonde hair, tousled by a salt-laden wind, fell thickly over her breasts and down her back between her wings.

For good or for ill, she was now at full strength, mentally, physically and emotionally. For the first time since the Pow-Wow, the quantum flowed through her node easily though she was still prone to mood swings. But by indulging in those mood swings, even in a limited way, she was able to keep her mental fortitude up.

Her lips curve for a moment at the thought of indulgance, but now was not the time to be seeking Franklin out. She realises that part of her problem could be the fact that she was almost forty-five years old to his thirty-six, though she looked in her late thirties at the moment. Healthy body, healthy mind; she had to lose her excess years so that she could have the mental alertness of a youngster, quite possibly the thing she needed most of all to fight the changes Taint was causing in her mind.

She lies down totally on the rock, resting her head in a special little hollow she had molded with her bare hands. She was learning to affect things with her molecular powers outside of stationary-related materials, and she suspected that one day she could eventually heal more than skin wounds. But that was not the focus of her thoughts today. Her temporal powers were.

Sunlight soaked her and warmed her as she slipped into a light trance with a bit of concentration. She gathers the quantum of her signature into threads, which she twisted into a greater whole and twined about her body like thread on a spindle. Her anima banner spins like crazy around her head like a literary halo as she guided the power through her.

The first thing she notices is her skin tightening over her petite frame. Then the power goes deeper, pulling her muscles closer to the bone (her knee hurt like hell at this point) and destroying the first, faintest signs of arthritis in her joints. Her organs were regenerated, all the beginnings of old age, which eruption had frozen into her quantum signature, vanishing in a matter of heartbeats.

She feels her inner clock winding back by a decade, then two. She stops the age alteration at this point, because she only needed to be in her prime, not for Franklin to look like a cradle-snatcher. Now she was twenty-four, with a figure she would have killed for the first time she was at that age (a good side-effect of eruption) and a fresh-faced attractiveness that didn't make her creamy-yellow skin look so ill and tired anymore.

She is tired, but manages to rise her feet and walk with a springy stride to where Franklin is, calling out, "Love, I've got a surprise for you!" She waits for his reaction with a hopeful smile.

[Singularity]

The hand, swallowed up to the wrist in the sand, supports the oddly contorted and steady body in the air. Scars didn't show up on the perfectly formed body, but even regeneration didn't ensure perfect healing every time. Franklin holds the position, partially making sure there isn't any lingering affects from his last combat in Kashmir. The other part of his mind lingers on his meditation earlier, his own reaffirmation of his stability. Like his body holding its place in the air, his mind and soul is operating perfectly.

He hears Regan's call behind him and he smoothly puts his feet back on the sand. A lithe shake knocks the sand off his hand, and he turns to look at her, "What is the..." He stops, looking at the de-aged woman before him. A surprised smile takes up his face, his silver eyes bright, "How did you... wow. You look amazing, love. I mean... wow. How did you do it?"

[Ghostwriter]

"I applied the temporal rejuvenation techniques I use on books to myself," Regan replies with a smile, placing her arms around Franklin's waist and kissing him on the cheek. "Unfortunately, I couldn't bring my knee back to what it was like when I was twenty-four..." She shrugs. "Maybe I will undergo the pain and get it fixed. I'm sick of being a cripple."

[Singularity]

Franklin nods, fitting his own hands gently between Regan's waist and hips as he finishes studying her, "That makes sense that you could apply your powers to yourself... you are definitely going to turn heads, the wings notwithstanding." A devilish and humorous grin crosses his face, "I almost do not want to share you with anyone."

His eyes settle on hers, "It is a shame about your knee... who or where do you want to go to get your knee healed?"

[Ghostwriter]

"I might speak to Neil Preston about it," she replies. "He's a good kid and a medical genius."

She chuckles evilly. "I once heard that he transfers injuries... I might just have a use for my bastard, brain-dead ex-husband after all, and to hell with what Utopia thinks."

[Singularity]

"I like him too, from the little I know about him from the pow wow," Franklin responds. Again he nods, "Giving him that knee injury would be poetic justice... but last I knew he was not in a state to appreciate the irony. Will Neil go for something like that or would he be more likely to just heal your knee without a side affect?"

[Ghostwriter]

"I don't think he could do it permanently without someone to weld it to," Codex answers quietly. "My knee-cap is fused solid with the thigh and shin bones and locked into my quantum signature. I'm only now learning to affect things with my temporal and molecular powers outside of book-related things, but I don't think that my minor healing powers are up to it yet."

She snuggles against Franklin with a sigh.

[Singularity]

The touch of Regan's newly soft and exposed skin under Franklin's hands makes his heart skip for a moment, "That is a shame, but I am amazed how well you have done so far with your powers. I am still restricted to myself for now."

His hands follow the line of her bikini bottom, meeting together at the small of her back as she presses into him, "So what brought this on? You have me quite curious. Especially since the last few times we have both expanded our abilities the situations and results were not what we expected."

[Ghostwriter]

"This really wasn't was so much about expanding my abilities as applying already-developed powers to myself," she murmurs, nibbling Franklin's earlobe. "I realised I was ten years older than you, and that really wasn't fair to either of us. You know, the jokes about younger men and older women..."

She chuckles wickedly in his ear. "Besides, I like the idea of both of us forever. There's no reason why I can't apply this technique to you as well."

[Singularity]

Franklin lets out a content sigh in response to Regan's lips and teeth, "I did not mind the age difference at all... now I am the older one, robbing the craddle as we used to say, taking my turn at the jokes. Not that I would object to being your boytoy."

One hand starts to drop down past her hip and to her leg as the other slips up her back, faint callouses on his fingertips barely touching her skin, "Yes... yes, I like the idea of forever too. But you will not have to use the technique as often on myself from what the doctors have told me." He smiles, feeling her breath on his ear, "Unless you want to keeep me as your young boytoy."

[Ghostwriter]

"Yes, but you don't look older than me," Regan points out with another chuckle, leaning into Franklin with a blissful smile. "I'll keep us as young as we need to be, my love..."

[Singularity]

Shoulders roll as Franklin adds his own chuckle to Regan's, "Yes, love, but now I feel so inadequate. How can food, shelter, and paradise compare to eternal youth?" He sighs again in content, happier than ever.

[Ghostwriter]

"How about saving me from myself?" Regan asks in reply, combing Franklin's silver hair with the claws on her right hand. "I think I'm the one in debt to you, love."

[Singularity]

"Maybe, love," Franklin says, nuzzling briefly into Regan's neck, keeping his head close enough for her to continue with his hair, "But you lifted me up from my own dark hole, meaning I owe you too. I think we can absolve any debt by the loyalty and love with have given each other and continue with it until our powers finally give out. That is, if you will have me for that long."

He pulls back enough for a silver orb to meet a sharp, ferel blue eye, "Is my hair really that bad? I know I cannot comb it and we are alone here, but I do try my best to keep it presentable..."

[Ghostwriter]

"Oh, shut up!" Regan says with exasperation clear in her voice. "I've got animalistic urges at times now, remember? That means I like to groom my mate! I'm not doing it to clean you up, silly!"

[Singularity]

Franklin chuckles and gives Regan a disarming smile, "I am not complaining, love, you actually have much better luck with it than I ever will. I do like the attention." His hand instinctually again seeks out her wing joints to scratch and maintains his smile while dipping his head to her, "Far be it from me to keep you from an occasional urge."

[Ghostwriter]

"Oooh, that feels good!" Regan exclaims, snuggling up to Franklin. "What are you trying to do, bring one of my urges on?"

[Singularity]

"Maybe," Franklin replies, his devilish grin peeking out from silver locks. His free hand slowly moves back up Regan's leg and past her hip, the other still scratching on her back, "Sometimes I get caught up too..."

[Ghostwriter]

"If you don't stop that, you'd better have something good in mind," Regan counters, twisting her clawed fingers in Franklin's hair and pulling his head down for a kiss.

[Singularity]

Fingers glide under black straps as Franklin gives Regan a bit of a boost and a pull closer to himself. "When have I... ever let you down," he asks between kisses, keeping his devilish smile, "It is such a nice day for sunning, maybe you would like to sit down and take it easy on that rock for the rest of the day."

[Ghostwriter]

"Stuff sunning!" Regan growls and tugs insistently at Franklin, trying to pull him down with her. Her lips are pressed against his, claws raking lightly across steel-tough skin as she breathes in his scent.

[Singularity]

Franklin lets Regan tug him toward the ground, twisting both of their bodies mid fall so he lands on his back and pulls her ontop of him. *Don't forget the wings, love,* he sends to her while opening his mind, his lips locked against hers. Rose and musk overwhelms him, hands rediscovering her reinvigorated body as he subtly makes sure she settled on him without harm.

[Ghostwriter]

Time passes, measured accurately by her inner clock. Regan lies sated on top of Franklin, trailing her fingertips down his side. "Did you see last night's OpNet broadcast from the Amp Room?" she chuckles quietly. "I'm glad we weren't there. Might have been... interesting, with my urges."

[Singularity]

Eyes closed, Franklin smiles at Regan's words, basking in the moment, "That it would have been interesting to say the least. I have heard stories about Slattern's parties... I do not think Vance would like what I would have done to ensure our privacy, so to say." His chest and Regan rock in a silent chuckle, "I never did like to share. But the world would have definitely found out about you and me."

He twists a bit in the sand, burrowing his back a little deeper in the sand, "Do you want to go to the Amp Room some night? Maybe on a more standard occasion?"

[Ghostwriter]

"We're goinna have to come out sooner or later..." Regan murmurs, snuggling up to Franklin. "Besides, I think of all the places I missed out on being with Utopia, or had to sneak around and go to. Like NewGround."

[Singularity]

Franklin lazily brings one arm in to again affectionately scratch the other wing joint on Regan's back, "Part of me wants to proclaim my love for you from the top of the world while the other part could care less what they think. As long as I have you, I am happy."

"But NewGround does sound interesting... you got a peek of it, what is it like? Do you think I would enjoy anything in it?"

[Ghostwriter]

"Oh, love, you'd think it was nirvana," Regan replies with a smile. "Think the Amp Room without Ed and a whole heap of intellectuals. I was there during closing time, but it looked good. There's a library there..." She chuckles. "Just about everything I published is in the Fiction section because it was sponsored by Utopia."

[Singularity]

"Really," Franklin replies with another chuckle, "It figures Prodigy would have that sort of sense of humor." He tips his head up out of the sand, opening his eyes to look at Regan, "If you say it is that good, then I hope you take me with the next time you go. Hell, I hope I can go all over with you; I no longer have a reason to be cooped up in some sterilized arcology." He smiles, slowly dropping his head back to the sand while keeping his eyes on her, "Not to say I feel cooped up here with you. On the contrary, I have not felt so truly free in my entire life."

[Ghostwriter]

"He is predictable at times," Regan agrees wryly. Her eyes become tender as she looks at Franklin. "I don't want to live without you, or go anywhere without you, Franklin. I've gotten so used to you that I feel naked without your presence by my side."

[Singularity]

Franklin holds Regan's eyes with his, full of love, "Forever then?"

[Ghostwriter]

Regan nods. "Yes, love."

[Singularity]

"Good," Franklin says while slowly sitting up, keeping Regan settled on his lap, "So what do you say to some celebratory food? I can bring it out here for you so you can enjoy the sun. I will even do it so quickly you will not even notice I was gone."

[Ghostwriter]

"You... speed...food...kitchen. Why do those words have an ominous portent to them?" Regan teases gently, shifting so her back is to Franklin's chest and her head pillowed in his shoulder.

[Singularity]

Franklin grins leaning back as Regan gets her wings in position, "Well, I was figuring ice cream or something that did not involve cooking. That bamboo and whicker scheme is too hard to clean even with quantum powers." He scoots away a bit from Regan, "I will be right back," and disappears with a rush of air.

Another gust of air and he reappears behind her a second later, a small basket sitting next to the couple, "There, see? No mess... out here at least."

[Ghostwriter]

"I'm afraid to ask." Regan digs out a tub of ice cream and two spoons. "Let's eat."

She snuggles against Franklin, enjoying another day of peace in paradise and the company of the man she loved.