It's Tomorrow, Scarlett

Sunlight filtered through the blinds in thin little streaks. It was bright enough that he could see it even behind his closed eyelids as he slowly came awake. He stretched slowly, yawning as he did. It was the sudden awareness that he was not alone in the room that had him jerking fully awake and his eyes popping open. Quickly, he scanned the room until his eyes came to rest on Fiona. She stood on the other side of the bed staring down at him as if she’d been willing him to wake up.

He frowned at her. “Is this going to become a habit with you?”

She shrugged one shoulder and smiled smugly at him. “Become a habit?” Her laughter trilled musically, as she tried to cover her mouth with her small hand.

Jon realized then how stupid his question had been. She’d already admitted that she’d been watching him since the day he was born. He’d just never known she was there before, and that made all the difference in the world. That’s when his performance from last night flashed through his mind, and with an evil little smirk, he threw off the comforter and sheet that had pooled at his waist.

Fiona gasped and spun around so fast that her long hair flew out in a wide arc around her, but Jon hadn’t missed the admiring glance she’d given his naked body before she’d turned her back on him. With his smirk still firmly in place, he climbed out of bed.

With a blush creeping up her neck, Fiona cursed herself. By the Maker’s toes, what had gotten into her? How many times had she seen his naked form as he’d gone about unaware of her presence? Why had it embarrassed her now?

She chanced a peek at him over her shoulder and suddenly sucked in so much air there surely wasn’t a speck of dust on anything in the whole room now. Shakily, she spun back to face him. “Ya need to stop right there, mon.”

But he didn’t. He continued to advance toward her, the right side of his full lips lifted slightly in an evil smirk worthy of her brother. He heard the Irish in her tone and smiled even more. Had he shaken her self control? Good.

Jon circled around his bed with almost deadly intent. Fiona could see it in his flashing blue eyes, and two words came to mind. Predator. Prey. She raised her chin several notches, refusing to back away in fear.

When he reached her, Jon let his fingers float down her arm from elbow to wrist, the guitar string calluses barely touching her skin, and with his left hand he lightly stroked her jaw line from ear to chin.

Fiona would have sworn that all the butterflies in Tír na nÓg had been turned loose in her belly. Was this what lust felt like? She stood wide eyed, staring up at him like some star struck ninny, while his lips drew closer to hers. Strange. She realized she was holding her breath, waiting for those full lips to touch hers. That’s when she let out a little squeak and disappeared into thin air.

Jon stumbled forward with a curse, unable to believe that she’d just vanished just as his lips were about to meet hers. He’d finally rattled the little fairy. His laughter bounced off the walls.

Things were already looking up.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Richie opened his eyes to see a very naked, very lush Morganna hovering over his bed, a full three feet from his body. Her skin glowed from within, and her long hair tickled at his chest. With a quick shift of her eyes, the sheet flew from Richie's body, leaving him exposed to her perusal. Her eyes were finally alive, sparkling in the moonlight as she took in the sight before her. Richie reached up to wrap her lustrous hair around his wrist and gave a gentle tug; she floated down to lay on top of him.

At first, his lips on hers were soft, teasing, tasting. Morganna stiffened for the briefest instant, then she gave herself over to the kiss. It turned harder, firmer. His mouth and hers were more demanding. His tongue was forceful in the need to taste her.

Richie’s hands didn’t know what to do with themselves, so they first fisted in her hair. He groaned at the feel of the silky tresses, and luxuriated in the feel of them wrapped around his wrists. Long minutes later, his hands cautiously unwound from her hair, and moved slowly to her neck, his thumbs tracing the racing pulse just under her ears. He embraced Morganna, his arms nearly wrapping all the way around her slender form. His hands traced the ridges of her spine and finally came to rest on the perfect globes of her ass. He pulled her to him, letting her feel his arousal.

Richie watched a feral smile creep across her face, Morganna slid back until he could feel his cock rubbing against her slit. Her eyes rolled back briefly at the feel of his hot flesh on hers. After a long, lingering moment, she pushed backwards so he was buried in her. All the way in. Richie saw stars when she clenched around him. When she sat up and started to ride him, they both rose from the bed. Richie could feel the tension building fast. Very fast. He was no young kid, but he was about to go off from just the briefest of interludes. His eyes closed, and his head lolled to the side, resting on the invisible pillow that supported him.

"Anna," he breathed, as he reached up for her breasts. His heart was pounding so hard, he thought it would burst right out of his chest. He could hear Morganna’s heart pounding hard, too.

Wait a minute, that wasn’t right.

“Anna,” he rasped, perched on the edge of ecstasy, “is that your heart pounding? It sounds like it’s coming from across the room.”

Morganna stopped her movements, and looked down at Richie. “Alas, ‘tis not me.”

The pounding came again, this time, sounding like it came from the door. Morganna sighed and the pair of them crashed to the mattress. “What the fuck?” Richie asked, furious at the interruption.

Morganna’s eyes were wet with regret. “It is time,” she said, climbing off him.

“No! Don’t go. Time? Time for what?” Richie asked. He reached for her, but she evaded his grasp.

“Time to face your destiny. I am sorry.” She vanished, dissipating into thin air.

The pounding continued. Richie heard Jon’s voice, a distant shout. “Rich! You up yet, you lazy bastard?”

Disoriented, Richie sat up in bed, very clearly alone. His erection, straining from the dream, started to wane fast; Jon had that effect on him. Grumbling, he shouted back, “I am now, you inconsiderate prick. I was having a hell of a dream.”

“Fuck that,” Jon called. “Get your ass downstairs. We have shit to figure out. It’s tomorrow, Scarlett, and I made coffee.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waited until he heard retreating footsteps in the hallway, then fell back to the mattress with a sigh. He then remembered that he probably had a visitor. "Morganna? You up there somewhere watching me, darlin'?"

He listened for a minute but didn't hear or see anything. Shrugging, he tossed back the covers and got out of bed. He almost immediately tripped over something on the floor, and nearly took out a wall when he crashed into it. "What the fuck?" he asked, rubbing his sore shoulder. Looking down, he saw a long green robe tangled around his feet. He didn't recognize it, and it took a moment for the lightbulb to go on. So Morganna had seen him, did she? Richie smiled to himself. It was going to be a very interesting day.

Fifteen minutes later, Richie strode arrogantly into the kitchen, and made a beeline for the coffeepot. He poured a huge mugful and gulped greedily, heedless of the fact it was piping hot.

"Jesus, Rich," Jon said as he watched his friend all but chug the mug of coffee. "Should we just hook you up to a coffee IV?"

"Can we?" Richie said. "I fucking well could use it."

"Are you awake yet? Can we please figure out what the fuck we're going to do?"

"Jonny, my friend, I already know what we're going to do."

"Oh really?" Jon's voice was dripping with doubt. "And what, pray tell, is your brilliant plan?"

"You and me, my brother, are going to save the world."

Fiona couldn't take it anymore. She popped to full size, and the men jumped when they saw her perched on top of the refrigerator. "Oh you are a bold one, aren't ya, then?" she asked Richie, shaking her head.

"Am I wrong?" he asked her, challenge in his eyes.

"No, you aren't wrong," Fiona answered, floating gracefully to the floor. "But you could have a little more respect for the gravity of this situation." She crossed to the coffeepot and helped herself to a cup, inhaling the fragrance deeply before taking a small sip.

"We would, if you'd tell us just exactly what the HELL we're supposed to do!" Jon said, exasperated.

Morganna chose that moment to blink in. "Shouting at us is not going to make us inclined to help you." She looked at Richie and blushed, remembering seeing him in all his glory last night. He smiled rakishly at her and toasted her with his mug.

"You have no choice but to help us," Jon reminded her.

Fiona shook her head. "No, no, child, we have no choice but to protect you. We do not have to help you."

"But you will," Richie said softly.

Fiona sighed. "Aye, we will."