By: Sketchy 7/08
Rating: T (PG13)
Time Frame: I can't remember exactly where, but when she runs back to Pirate Swoop after her and Jon get all messy.
Summary: Drabble of George finally getting his Lioness.
"This should've happened a long time ago…"
George couldn't believe his ears. Had he heard her right? Was his Lioness finally admitting to the big 'it'? That maybe, just maybe, she wanted him at least a little bit? Holding her in his arms, he steeled his muscles as they tried to tremble. Licking his suddenly dry lips, he nodded to her, pulling her along in silence. She complied, for perhaps once in the time that he'd known her, following him docilely to his chambers.
With quiet kisses and gentle caresses, George removed Alanna's clothing slowly, almost as though she was fine china, meant to be handled with care. Soon his anticipation had built to extreme levels as he ran a hand through her short copper hair, wishing for only a second that it was longer, then smiling to himself. She was his Lioness no matter what, and how long or how short her hair was had no effect on that.
"Oh, George…" A moan followed the whisper, tearing from her as he kissed at her neck. If, perhaps, he'd been a more vengeful man, he would've been thinking about Jonathon. Did he kiss her like this? Did he make her moan, whimper his name?
But George was not such a man – he was too busy worshipping. His hands sliding under her tunic, lifting it off, his thoughts on only her. It didn't matter what'd come before him, because she was his, for now. Maybe for longer. But this moment was solely George's, and he wasn't going to let other men, past heartbreaks, memories… ruin it.
With a groan he nipped at her collar bone, one hand cupping her breast as he exhaled sharply against her neck. While he'd been unawares, his darling dear had let her own hands wander. Purple eyes smiled dreamily up him, like a love sick puppy. "This feels good… George."
His heart clenched at the words. The only thing that would've made him feel more like jumping with glee and whooping would've been her saying she loved him. But for now, the simple admission that it felt good, and he was the cause… well, that was more than he could've hoped for. Pushing her against the bed frame, he lifted her, his hips between her legs as he kissed her more insistently. Her hands were pulling at his shirt, running through his hair. George felt like he was drowning in violets. A huge field of them.
And he didn't care.
Letting go, letting the fears and worries and the uprising and everything to do with the real world go, George let himself fall with Alanna as she pulled him back onto the bed.
Destination unknown, but he'd be damned if he got left behind.
A/N: Hey all. I'm alive. Sorta. D Here's a drabble I wrote a bit ago, finally up for you all to adore. Take care and enjoy.