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Summer of the shark. Officially, I've gone insane. But it's all for you, dear thing, dear [livejournal.com profile] the_grynne and your delightful run of Heroes fic. Your wish is, apparently my command: here is Josef/Elle. PG for language and innuendo. Ha !



"Do you have a master, Josef ?" She flips down her sunglasses. "And I'm not talking about that Anne Rice shit. Does somebody run you ?" He smiles at her and she stiffens slightly, like prey; then relaxes with a practiced control. Good. He likes that.

"Use your imagination."




"These are just the rules and regulations;
and I, like everyone, must follow them."
-Rufus Wainwright




They tread a respectful path around him; they have their circle, their landscape and their games, and he's got his. They asked once and he said no. It stuck. They stay on opposite sides of the country. They don't send birthday cards. They wouldn't send her.

But here she is.

"I used to want to be in movies," Elle says, from the chaise lounge. He's about to ask her how she got in, but she points to the security cameras and they're fried. He looks at the curve of her too-thin arm; it's soft and perfect as the skin on fresh milk. The tips of her fingers crackle slightly, blue, like lightning.

"Well," he says. "How nice for you."

"Do you have a master, Josef ?" She flips down her sunglasses. "And I'm not talking about that Anne Rice shit. Does somebody run you ?" He smiles at her and she stiffens slightly, like prey; then relaxes with a practiced control. Good. He likes that.

"Use your imagination."

"I didn't think so." He sits beside her and sees for the first time that she's gotten into his wine. But not the good kind, no, he thinks she might be too young to notice. "Somebody runs me," she says. "I'm tired of being run. I thought I'd come to California. Get some sunshine." She rolls towards him and the strings of her bikini top roll too, leaving white trails of water on her skin. "I want to slip the leash," she says. He leans forward and he feels her skin almost underneath his; her lips make a sweet little bow and her eyes shut.

He scrapes his teeth against her throat and she jumps back, startled, clutching her towel against her breasts. He laughs. She scowls at him and her skin flashes like neon for an instant.

"Go ahead," he says; sits back, folds his ankle over his knee neatly. "Fry me. Stop my heart."

"Fuck you." She stands up, throwing the towel on the ground and spilling the wine, and walks towards the glass doors; but he's there, he's faster than a human man and sometimes he likes to show off, once in a while, for something fresh and smooth like her. "Josef-"

"You're young and you're pretty," he murmurs, against her ear; he feels her heartbeat rise and smells the static in her blood. "I'm old, and I've seen this before. You untie the straps all you want, honey, but I'm not going to underestimate you."

He steps back. Her shoulders are against the glass, leaving streaks; he knows it must be cold.

Elle grins.

"Can't blame me for trying," she says. She drops something artificial in her posture; drops what's left of the top at the same time. She slides the door open and walks into the dark of the house.

This, he thinks, will be fun.

Date: Thursday, November 15th, 2007 08:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] the-grynne.livejournal.com
HEARTBEAT RACING AND ERRATIC

I've wondered about Josef and why he lives on the West Coast when most hedge fund business is conducted in New York and New England. This is such a wild and awesome idea. I love the Twelve being wary of him, and afraid of him enough to keep their distance and respect his territory. And I love Elle for daring to flaunt that truce, her act of rebellion that sends her to the other side of the continent and into Josef's arms. The image of her body flashing neon is electrifying.

Josef's appraisal of her, and the way he is so languid with her: "I'm old, and I've seen this before. You untie the straps all you want, honey, but I'm not going to underestimate you."

Cautious, experienced, seeing all the angles. I love your Josef to bits.

I was all about to offer you my first-born, and then you wrote it anyway. Much love, my dear.

Date: Monday, November 19th, 2007 05:41 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] orange-crushed.livejournal.com
Oh, darling.

And yeah, you've captured everything here that I wanted to establish- you know how much I shun big backstory, so the fact that you got all this makes me feel like it worked. I LOVE the idea of Josef and the Twelve having parallel (or even opposing) agendas. A bit like Spike vs. Angel & Co- "I like this world, you have dog racing, etc."

I'd seriously love to see them together,playing off of each other. I can imagine Elle's gotten pretty far on her adorable face; to be recognized for the ruthless creature she is would be fun to see. And you know my feelings on Josef: FLAIL.

Ha, what would I do with a first-born ? I'd probably just dress it in silly hats and teach it to say hell and damn and send it back.

*hugs you*

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