Title: Not Just A Memory
Characters/Pairings: Az/Zero, a smidget of DG
Spoilers/Warning: NC 17... but not much
Summary: She wants to remember.
Disclaimer: Tin Man and all its characters belong to Sci-Fi, RHI Entertainment, NBC Universal Television. The Wizard of Oz is the property of L. Frank Baum. I'm just doing a bit of borrowing.
Author's Note: So this is only my second attempt at writing smut. I'll warn you now, I need more practice.
"Princess," he mumbles, his gaze never wavering from the glass in his hand. "Isn't it past your bedtime?"
She gestures for the bartender to bring her one of whatever he's having and leans forward so that her elbows rest against the sticky bar-top. "This where you've been hiding, Zero?"
He chuckles mirthlessly and slowly brings the glass to his lips. "What do you want?"
"I don't know," she says, honestly, and takes the glass that's placed in front of her. She downs the drink in one go and gestures for another. "I've been dreaming lately."
He raises an eyebrow and turns to look at her for the first time since she's sat down. She hasn't changed much, he thinks as his eyes take her in. Her hair still reaches the middle of her back and her skin… Oh her skin. God, how he once loved letting his tongue glide over the porcelain hollow of her neck, his teeth nipping at her smooth flesh while she writhed beneath him.
She looks up and meets his gaze, successfully snapping him out of the memories.
"They're always about you," she whispers.
He shrugs and lets his gaze fall back to the glass he's fingering.
"Why?" She asks.
He snorts. "Why what?"
"Why do I dream about you?"
"I'm not doing this with you," he says and finishes off the last of the amber liquid in his glass. He pushes off the bar and throws enough coins on the counter to cover both of their drinks before turning his back to her.
"Where are you going?" She demands as she follows him through the crush of Unwanted. She grabs his upper arm and flinches when he turns on her with a snarl.
"Do not follow me."
She hesitates for a fraction of a second before bucking up her resolve. The streets are busy and cramped when they step out of the bar and he chooses to ignore her as she trails closely behind him. After a moment he doesn't feel her presence behind him anymore and turns to investigate. She's standing a few yards back, her path blocked by an Unwanted with a reputation for carrying off unwilling females.
He doesn't do anything at first, figuring her guards will step out of the woodwork to save their precious princess. But when the man grabs her arm and no one steps forward he curses and decides to intercede. He steps up behind the man, taps him on the shoulder, and breaks his nose as his fist collides with it.
"Come on." He grabs her by the hand and leads her through the crowd until he reaches the building he's looking for. He pulls her up the stoop, pausing to kick out at a beggar trying to grab her leg, and leads her to the fourth floor where he jams a key into a rotting door. Once inside, he throws the keys on the table and rounds on her, demanding, "Where is your security detail?"
"I ditched them a few days ago," she says, a challenging expression on her face.
He wants to grab and shake her. "You came here without any security? What the hell were you thinking?"
"I was thinking," she glares at him, "that I wanted to talk to you without my bodyguards watching our every move."
"Well that was a bad idea," he says stiffly as he pours a drink for each of them. Their fingers brush as he hands her the glass and she inhales sharply at the brief contact.
She watches as he takes a sip of his drink and then collapses onto his couch, the only piece of furniture other than the table in the front room. He leans back and covers his eyes with his forearm, occasionally tilting the whiskey into his mouth.
She's not sure what to say so she shuffles forward and drops down next to him on the couch and stares straight ahead without a word. They sit in silence for a few tense moments before he asks softly, "You don't really remember me, do you?"
"My mother…" She bites her bottom lip. "My mother thought it would be best to erase some of my memories after the Viewers were through. She thought it might be less painful for me."
He lets out a strangled growl.
"But I don't understand why because it was me." She looks up at him suddenly. "It was me wasn't it?"
He lets his arm slide off his face and fall with a thud onto the couch in between them. He opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling for a few moments before pulling his head forward so that he can look her in the eye. "It was always you. Only you."
She nods slowly.
"Az," she interrupts. "Please call me Az."
"Az," he says softly and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.
"You do that in my dreams," she whispers, her voice barely audible as he swallows heavily. She pushes forward and snakes her hand around the back of his neck. "And then I do this."
She pushes her lips against his. It starts soft and chaste because, even if they've done this a hundred times before, without her memories she's a little new to all this. But then his lips part and he's running his tongue along her bottom lip and it all comes back to her. The moonlit walks through the gardens, the way she felt with his arms wrapped around her shoulders, the kitchen…
She giggles into his mouth.
"Is this funny to you?" He asks, pulling back just slightly.
She rests her forehead against his. "I just remembered the kitchen incident."
He groans and this time the kiss is anything but chaste as his tongue begins re-familiarizing itself with the inside of her mouth. She kicks one leg onto the couch and pulls his body into hers as she slowly eases herself backwards. He slides his hand underneath her skirt and trails his lips from her ear to her neck to her collar bone. She arcs into him and pushes her leg against the back of the couch to allow him better access as his thumb deftly begins drawing tiny circles on her clit. She gasps as his fingers dip into her, gliding back and forth. He works her like this until she shakily moans his name as she cums.
Once the convulsions have subsided, she smirks at him mischievously. She's got him released from his constricting pants seconds later and he groans as she strokes his shaft, skillfully twisting her hand just the way he likes it. He hikes her skirt farther up around her waist as she guides him to her. He lets his tip brush against her bare skin until he can't take it any longer and he pushes into her forcefully. She moans and arches to meet his every thrust.
"I've missed you," he murmurs and licks her collarbone.
She tries to return the sentiment, but the only sounds that escapes are little gasps of pleasure. Finally, the pressure builds until she can't take it any longer. He groans as she tightens around him and then releases over and over again. He follows a moment later and collapses into her, his face buried in the side of her neck.
"How," she breathes, "could I have ever forgotten that."
He grins and bites her throat before they begin round two.
"Az," DG says two days later. She's staring at her sister's neck, perplexed. "Uh, what exactly were you doing at that orphanage again?"
Az's hand goes to her throat as she turns. Her cheeks are a brilliant shade of red as she stammers, "Er. Uh…"
DG snorts, "Orphanage my ass."