Catchafire (DA,XO,ADULT,UC) COMPLETE - 10/11/10

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Catchafire (DA,XO,ADULT,UC) COMPLETE - 10/11/10

Post by KiaraAlexisKlay » Tue May 18, 2010 9:38 pm

Title: Catchafire Let it Burn Within

Author: Kristin aka Kiara Alexis Klay

Category: Alternative Universe; Crossover – Roswell, Dark Angel

Disclaimer: Not mine and no profit being made. Roswell and all related characters, ideas, and situations are the property of Melinda Metz, Jason Katims, SciFi, the WB/CW, etc. Dark Angel and all related characters, ideas, and situations are property of James Cameron and Eglee, Fox, SciFi, etc. The title I use is actually a lyric taken from a song by Toby Mac entitled Catchafire [Whoopsidaisy] off of his album Momentum. I do not own this either. The phrase, “Destruction, absolute” was purloined off a fan fiction of the same name on the Twisting the Hellmouth website in the Stargate, Buffy-Centered Real Family section. I do not remember the author’s name, but I give the credit where it is due.

Pairing: Unconventional; Jumper [Rath/Liz],

Rating: Starts off teen but will end up Adult due to one scene. Fair warning, if you are underage, please stop reading right now.

Summary/Synopsis: Liz Parker. Transgenic. Rath. Heat.

A/N 1:Roswell timeline was moved up so that Roswell can fit into the Dark Angel universe. Not exactly sure on the when this is set in the DA universe, only that enough has passed since the 2009 escape that some of those escapees are old enough for puberty to hit.

A/N 2: Okay, I blame Ashita for rousing my muse Jareth from the dusty, cob-webbed confines of the dark recess of my creative and motivational center of my brain. And Whimsicality because, because she’s Ashita’s muse and beta and hey, who can blame her, we are getting Redemption are we not? This is Ashita’s fault, no question.

A/N 3: The Adult scene in this fic was a birthday present I wrote for darkmoon, my dearest Beta and friend. Jess, that scene is all for you, and we were wondering what fic I could incorporate that into hehe.

~ * ~ * ~
New York, 2016 A.D/0007 P.P [Post-Pulse]
~ * ~ * ~

Never did figure out what was so great about Wall Street. It was a street built on the remains of gee, what could it possibly have been? A wall. A wall, whose historical tumble, had a greater impact even than its Middle Eastern predecessor of Jericho. That pagan kingdom at least had six days to get their act together before God brought down His wrath upon those who hinder His plan for His chosen few. He scattered the very stones and mortar of that encampment to the execution of every living creature save one God-fearing prostitute and the members of her family smart enough to pay attention to the promise given to a woman.

Who knows if the government of that time had had any warning? The results were the same. Destruction, absolute. That big old Wall Street came a tumbling down, in a shower of ones and zeroes and suicide and despair, disbelief and incredulity.

This great powerhouse of a nation was broken from the software down, all because some extremist decided that it was unfair that there be such a thing as ‘freedom’ and to prove some sort of point set off an atmospheric nuke right above the Midwest-Western Divide. The results were the likes of which no one could have expected. There was the expected radiation fallout, lessened somewhat by being absorbed into the ozone, but the real kicker was the electromagnetic pulse that swept out on the tailwinds to encompass nearly two thirds of the contiguous United States, plus the better half of Lower Canada, and the uppermost portions of Mexico.

Instant Third World status; the mess that followed was much more severe than both of the Great Depressions combined. Yeah, it was bad. All organized government pretty much went out the window as mass chaos erupted for those first few years. Militias were more often the norm than any national conglomerate, people started to mistrust others, lynch mobs and gangs and mafias erupted like wildfire, and as a whole it became about individuals and the group you belonged to than anything else.
It was a horribly wonderful and awful period of time. Wonderful if you were one of a few Frankenstein-inspired biological experiments who broke out and went AWOL from the government.

Those first few years, almost all emergency services, state, federal, and national were overloaded. With all the suicides and murders and general mayhem people went missing all the time and in between trying to simply SURVIVE who the hell cared about one more not where they were supposed to be?

Elizabeth Parker, formerly the advanced transgentically engineered biological weapons system designated Unit X5-210, let out a pleased rumble as she raised her hands and arms above her head and arched her back. The resultant crackling of bone and flexion of muscle and sinew soothed the aches that came with hard travel, and Parker sighed as she gave her left arm one more rotation to work the kinks out before she exited the cramped, smelly confines of ‘public’ transportation.

Her government issued heightened senses had reached their maximum capacity in the enclosed Capsule of Hell, and had she not wanted to remain unnoticeable, she would have found alternate means for her arrival. Of course, if that arrival had been heralded by one of the rank, I-haven’t-had-a-bath-in-my-lifetime creeps clutching a hand shattered in three places because he apparently couldn’t understand good plain English, or the other seven languages she had cursed him with, well, it wasn’t her fault. She told him ‘no’, and if that hadn’t been enough, her body language surely would have clued him in.

The great thing about living in a post-Apocalyptic city that didn’t care was precisely that…they DIDN’T CARE, and so Liz found her descent from the bus greeted with absolutely nothing. Apparently it wasn’t the first time some creep had come scurrying out with their tails tucked beneath their ball-less legs because he/she/it couldn’t take a simple ‘no’. This was a harsh world, but not one that Liz didn’t think she couldn’t make it in. Good for her.

A different kind of ache from her nether region prompted Liz to get busy, and with seeming purpose she strode away without a backward glance. Liz wasn’t concerned about her lack of destination, or the lack of any luggage or extra change of clothing. She was here for one purpose and one purpose only: To get laid.
Where better, and with such variety and anonymity, than New York?

~ * ~ * ~
Last edited by KiaraAlexisKlay on Mon Oct 11, 2010 9:38 pm, edited 7 times in total.
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Re: Catchafire [DA xo Adult UC/Jumper] prologue 5/18

Post by KiaraAlexisKlay » Wed May 26, 2010 3:05 pm

Catchafire
by Kristin aka Kiara Alexis Klay
Not mine....really
DA xo Ros
Adult
UC - Jumper

~ * ~ * ~

Chapter 2

~ * ~ * ~

Rath scowled for the umpteenth time that day. He was feeling restless, and with Lonnie busy with her newest boytoy, and his sister and her big-eared love bug holed up in their rooms, he was bored. While he was grateful Aves and Zan weren’t going at it in front of him, it still pissed him off that everyone in their little messed up ‘family’ was getting some and he was … well, he wasn’t.

And did he mention he was bored?

Cursing his enhanced senses – he could hear his sister and her mate!- Rath launched himself off the tattered couch and strode toward the exit that would take him to the tunnel.

Old, abandoned subways and cart tunnels had become homes and dens to millions of people when the Pulse had hit. This particular set of tunnels, however, had been abandoned long before the Pulse had hit, originally designed in an era when trains were luxury accommodations, and the tunnels they traveled in had only the most decadent and comfortable holes to stop at on their journey. Most people didn’t even know of their existence, and Rath and his family had ensured that it would stay that way.

Not worried in the slightest that he would be missed, Rath made the transition from the curving, labyrinth like, wood-paneled passageway into the more ‘modern’ stone and steel tunnel with ease. He only stopped to ensure that the mindwarp protecting their humble abode remained intact and took off.

Taking to the streets he didn’t even seem to notice the chill that clung to the air as the sun began to set, comfortable in his worn camo cargos, off white muscle t-shirt, and a lightweight hooded jacket. His heavy boots made no sound on the pavement, and even the weighted chains attached to his belt and pockets barely made a whisper as he stalked through the dusk.

Hunting.

Hunting for what, he did not know, but the primal warlord deep within had been roused and he wasn’t going to be satisfied hearing his sister scream her delight all night long. No. That had done nothing but frustrate the former general and an anxiousness to get rid of that frustration sang through Rath’s veins. Whether that meant getting into it with the nastiest, meanest, cuss out there or getting in to it with the hottest, tightest girl around, something was going down.

~ * ~ * ~


The rain decided to empty out onto the unfortunate souls unable to have any overhang for shelter to call their own. It came in thick, heavy sheets that pounded and punished, reducing visibility to nothing, and sucking the warmth in a chilling late spring deluge.

Liz Parker didn’t mind, paying no heed to the heavy moisture that had engulfed her entire being within moments. She tossed the saturated rope strands of hair over her shoulder and tucked herself a little further into the warm depths of her jacket, the water sluicing off the tempered leather. Her eyes were constantly on the go, always moving, tracking every shadow and movement and her ears were listening to the ambient noise under the crushing fall of water pouring from the heavens.

The fire that had been banked back in Roswell during that damnable heat wave and the resultant lust-filled pheromones had jogged her hormones to attention, and that was the reason she had left her little security nest of normalcy to indulge in a little itch scratching. One of the unforeseen side effects of mixing feline DNA into her genetic code was that every three months she was crawling the walls like a kit in heat. And that’s what it was…an overactive and overwhelming reproductive cycle lasting a good forty-eight hours that consumed her until it left her burned out and aching at the end of its course.

Following a gut instinct that had yet to steer her wrong, Liz picked up her pace and took a sharp left, ears finally picking up the pounding bass vibrating through the wet, cold night that Called to that most primitive portion she suppressed so often. Espresso colored eyes flickered cat-touched-gold for the briefest of moments and then was replaced by the feral grin.

Just what the Huntress was looking for.

She followed the tribal rhythm, now able to make out shapes and forms and individual voices as she drew closer to the tightly packed apartments. There in an alley up ahead, past the storefronts, there was a steady stream of people drifting up and down concrete steps that led to a basement landing and the door jealously guarded by a pair of thugs not all that happy with the rain.

Little mousy Liz Parker was shed like the persona she was, as the feral transgenic broke into a graceful stalk full of rolling hips and sensual promises, head upright and confident. X5-210 gave a flirty smile and a precocious wink and just like that, she descended the stairs and was allowed entrance. Some smart aleck had written Dante’s Inferno, although Dante’s was all but faded away leaving “Inferno” as the single point of reference.

A wave of heat and music and voices and lust and anger and joy and laughter rolled out of the opened doors and the predatory grin that stretched across her face accompanied the pleased purr rumbling in her throat.

“Men, men, everywhere, but which one to eat?”

A soft laugh at her own joke and she shook the excess water off her jacket, squeezing it out of her hair to join the puddle on the floor and headed for the bar. She was thirsty and there must be some willing male to slake her thirst.

~ * ~ * ~
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Re: Catchafire [DA xo Adult UC/Jumper] Ch 1 5/26

Post by KiaraAlexisKlay » Sat May 29, 2010 8:28 pm

Catchafire
DA/Ros xo
by kristin aka Kiara Alexis Klay
not mine. DA belongs to cameron, eglee, and fox. Ros belongs to katims, metz, CW/WB.
adult

Chapter 2
~ * ~ * ~

The party was in full swing when Rath swept inside Dante’s later that night. He had saw the downpour coming and had decided to wait it out at his favorite pizzeria until the downpour had lightened to his satisfaction. He was still wet but not soaking, and he knew that he wasn’t planning on staying at the Inferno long enough to start chapping at the drying material. There was enough gel and alien mojo in his hair to keep his Mohawk spiked in spite of the rain and he nodded to Twin who guarded the entrance in greeting.

“Duke,” the larger twin greeted from the left, and his brother merely grunted as they let him pass.

“Yo, Rath,” Hector, the main muscle, greeted from a small nook just to the inside of the door.

“Whassup, Tor?” Rath bumped knuckles with the heavily tattooed muscle, both men sporting spiked leather cuffs on their wrists.

“New chum in da water and da sharks is circling,” the bald bouncer informed him, and Rath’s pierced eyebrow went skyward.

“Is dat right?”

“Yup. Sweet little morsel, but there’s something ‘bout her…” the burly man trailed off, shaking his head as his gaze flicked almost reluctantly over to the corner where a series of loud cheers, wolf whistles, and cat calls erupted from.

“Falling on da slippery slope, mijo?” Rath questioned in surprise.

At five nine, Hector was broad, tattooed, and bald, with the piercing eyes of his Hispanic-Native American ancestors and a body that a prison inmate would weep to own. Tattoos, tribal and otherwise, snaked up his arms, to his chest and back, up his neck, and over his head. This was not a man to mess with. Hector Gonzalez had been bouncing for many years, and got his fair share of honeys, but he’d never had this kind of reaction to one: especially new kids on the block.

Hector looked at Rath and laughed, shaking his head.

“No, amigo, da man who can capture dis pequena y gato will have to have some very big cajones to take her on. I will be more than happy to sit and watch some poor hombre face her.”

“Really?”

Now Rath was truly curious. Once again, loud cheers and raucous laughter interrupted, and then Rath got his first look at the one whom Hector was bowing out on. She stood all five feet three inches of herself [boots included] on top of one of the old, wooden lacquered bars and pulled a Coyote Ugly, prancing upon the slick counter space to the beat of the music blaring through speakers hidden throughout the whole of the underground space.

There was a liquid flow to her movements, every step a precise dance like the small cat Hector had dubbed her, as well as that innate sensuality that was predominant in that species. Her hair was rain slicked black, little ropy strands clinging to her face and neck wherever they could when she paused, and golden olive skin glittered in sheen of either sweat or rain, Rath couldn’t tell, but he was anxious to find out.

Damp boot cut jeans clung to her hips, settling a good inch and a half below her belly button, hips rotating in time to the music, hypnotic. There was no way something this fine was all human, the play of muscles on that swath of bared belly skin twisted and rolled as if there were extra muscles, and what a human might think was very graceful was in fact calculated and controlled.

“Oh yeah…I’d do her,” Rath declared, attention solely on the jewel in front of him.

“Good luck, amigo,” Hector grinned, shaking his head in sympathy. But Rath was already moving in, and Hector felt a momentary twinge of pity for the poor schmuck who got in his way.

~ * ~ * ~
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Re: Catchafire [DA xo Adult UC/Jumper] a/n 7-22

Post by KiaraAlexisKlay » Sun Aug 15, 2010 9:25 pm

Catchafire

Kristin aka Kiara alexis klay

Genre: Crossover between Roswell & Dark Angel; Alternative Universe

Rating: Adult

Disclaimer: Neither Roswell nor Dark Angel belong to me and in no way am I getting any sort of monetary or glorification compensation. This is just for fun. The two songs used in the following chapter, “Maneater” and “Promiscuous” are both by Nelly Furtado, do not belong to me either.

Pairing: Unconventional – Jumper [Rath; Liz]

Synopsis: Liz. Transgenic. Heat. Rath. Need I say more?

Chapter 3 - “Maneater”

~ ~ ~
[N:] Am I throwing you off?

Nope

[N:] Didn’t think so


-Nelly Furtado, “Promiscuous” featuring Timbaland

~ ~ ~

Liz was having the time of her life, the pulsing and throbbing and life of the occupants of the bar pounded a tempo that her heartbeat acclimated to match, the heat that had begun as a slight ache back in Roswell had erupted, fittingly, into an inferno that raged and took over. Liz knew as sure as her barcode read X5-210 that she would be going home with someone or something.

Scent and sensation combined for a feral overload, and her mouth literally watered with each brush of body and clothing against her own, the tangy zing of male and arousal and want and need and hunger driving her inner kitty wild. The mood was just right in this club it seemed, every Joe and Jane coming out and crawling with the need for some interaction. Having already drawn a crowd of hopeful choice and deciding that enough was enough, Liz prowled to the top of the bar, a sassy unapologetic grin tossed to the bartender as the familiar strains of the most inappropriate and yet strangely appropriate song hit the speakers.


Take it back

Everybody look at me me
I walk in the door you start screaming
Come on everybody, what you here for?
Move your body around like a nympho

Everybody get your neck to crack around
All you crazy people come on jump around
I wanna see you all on your knees knees
You either wanna be with me or be me
Come on now


Liz laughed and led the crowd to dancing from her perch on the bartop, her body automatically grooving and gyrating, pumping and pounding. She slunk down low in a twisting crouch and waved her hand to the crowd, and they obeyed her and the lyrics coming to their knees and then surging forward and up as the chorus took it’s beat.

Maneater, make you work hard, make you spend hard
Make you want all of her love
She's a maneater, make you buy cars, make you cut cards
Make you fall real hard in love

She's a maneater, make you work hard, make you spend hard
Make you want all of her love
She's a maneater, make you buy cars, make you cut cards
Wish you never ever met her at all


Liz knew she was reaching her peak, her heat was getting harder and harder to repress, despite her wild dancing but yet something in her rejected the whirling amassed offerings before her. It was as if she was waiting for something – or someone – and she’d be pissed as all get out if it were something alien related. She was a freak enough on her own thank you very much; she was not happy at the thought that Miracle Max’s good intention had done more than disintegrate a bullet and put her on the FBI’s shit list.

Liz had a horrible thought then – what if her exposure to the alien males made her crave them and only them? She was a little short on available alien men at the moment and she growled in suppressed need and annoyance. If she didn’t get a little something something soon, then she didn’t know how long she’d make it. An angry, sexually frustrated transgenic on a psycho kick would not end well. At best, a padded room and a permanent membership to Psy Ops in good old home not so sweet Manticore home. At worst, she would receive an unceremonious death and clinically impersonal grave at that same not so sweet Manticore. For Liz had no doubt that if she did go off the deep end, the Colonel and Manticore would not be far behind.

And when she walks she walks with passion
When she talks she talks like she can handle it
When she asks for something boy she means it
Even if you never ever see it

Everybody get your neck to crack around
All you crazy people come on jump around
You doing anything to keep her by your side
Because she says she love you love you long time
Come on now


Liz pouted as once again, that scrumptious and tasty looking bouncer – Hector, was his name? - once again refused to maintain eye contact, no matter what flexible move she pulled showing off. It took her a few songs before she realized what it was her inner kitty wanted : domination.

But not a little dominatrix I am a superiorly bio-engineered can rip your arm off and beat you to death before you know it dominating. She wanted to be the one dominated! It wasn’t something that happened often, as most of her heat victims were human and therefore easy to dominate.

But to be dominated, to let loose utterly and completely, without fear of exposure or worry that she might permanently damage her current partner … that would be nirvana. And since none of her escaped male brethren were around to help scratch her itch – and would be too closely considered incest for her taste – she was left wanting.

And aside from the drool worthy Hector, there was really no man in here that set off that unconscious Alpha Dominant vibe that she was craving.

A disappointed mewl rumbled out of her lips and hissing she ducked away from an overzealous suitor, put out and snarly about the unworthy creature’s insistence on touching her. Her body craved and needed and now wanted and Liz slipped into a mediation of her body, trying to fantasize about what kind of person she would like to be dominated by. Perhaps if she imagined enough, then she could pretend with one of the unworthy. An unappealing prospect.

Maneater, make you work hard, make you spend hard
Make you want all of her love
She's a maneater, make you buy cars, make you cut cards
Make you fall real hard in love

She's a maneater, make you work hard, make you spend hard
Make you want all of her love
She's a maneater, make you buy cars, make you cut cards
Wish you never ever met her at all



Immediately, dark liquor colored eyes and a sarcastic sneer came to mind, and Liz shuddered as she imagined the familiar hot-spicy-desert-alien pheromone scent and electrical power signature.

Michael

Chocolate flavored orbs opened as Liz startled out of her reverie. So the mysterious rebel, the so called “bad-boy” of Roswell was her inner kitty’s idea of whom to be dominated by?

Hmmm…Michael. On the other hand, now that she was thinking about it, Michael was not a bad choice. Liz had caught glimpses of that lean profile, the chiseled abs, not a bit of flab on his powerful frame during both gym and autoshop classes. The spiky hair and leather and denim and the piss off world attitude had attracted many of a girl’s attention but Liz had respected his unspoken demand of privacy, knowing that whatever need had created it was on par with her own reasoning for wanting privacy.

Besides, she’d always smelled the not-quite-humanness, and initially had worried about him possibly being a new breed of transgenic and kept her distance just in case. Now she knew that for complete bullshit but she’d never been one to take chances of being rediscovered by the wrong people.

Come on now

Maneater, make you work hard, make you spend hard
Make you want all of her love
She's a maneater, make you buy cars, make you cut cards
Make you fall real hard in love


The only issue she could see with pairing with Michael was four-fold and could actually be named: Max, Isabel, Maria, and Michael himself. Max for obvious reasons: he was infatuated with her himself, saw himself as her very own ‘White Knight’, and would see Liz’s affections for his best friend on par with the mythical Genevieve and Lancelot debacle. Isabel was just as clear cut: she didn’t want Liz involved with either brother, and she certainly would not care that Liz would ‘abandon’ her biological and adoptive brother in favor of her surrogate brother.

Maria was a little trickier: Liz had known since the Parker’s introduced her to the little spitfire way back when that the blonde hurricane had crushed on the resident bad boy. The fact that in the alien’s heat he had sought her, Maria, out and had some sort of love-hate-hate not-like-that relationship put him firmly in the DO NOT TOUCH BEST FRIEND’s CRUSH category.

Finally, Michael was the last hurdle in this reality. Michael didn’t care for anyone but Max and Isabel, and despite their brief alliance, Michael would have it be briefer…as in non-existent. He would never make a move on someone Max considered “his”, and definitely not on one whom he considered trouble.

But still … wasn’t it nice to envision? With the song winding down, Liz took a deep breath to settle her nerves and was jolted with a sudden surge of awareness as a too familiar spicy-powerful-alien scent swept the room on the crest of his power, and Liz knew there was a Czech in the house.

Opening her eyes as she spun about, she saw the yummy bouncer speaking with someone who was still cast in shadow, but the profile was eerily similar to the one she’d been lusting after and his power … she shivered as her thoughts ran rampant.

Michael hadn’t followed her had he?

Her heart trilled at that thought, even as a hot, lust-filled gaze raked over her with an intensity her gathered buffoons lacked. It was a knowing gaze, oh so familiar, but at the same time so alien. Something was different in the intensity and that spicy scent lacked the crisp, arid freshness of desert air that clung to Michael as if the desert itself had seeped into his very essence from the amount of time he spent out there.

Liz finally got a good look as the crowd suddenly parted on the heels of a new song, and her breath caught at the vision before her.

No. Not Michael.

But a twin wouldn’t be such a bad alternative, now would he?
Last edited by KiaraAlexisKlay on Mon Oct 18, 2010 6:13 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Catchafire [DA xo Adult UC/Jumper] ch 4a 8-15

Post by KiaraAlexisKlay » Fri Sep 24, 2010 10:18 pm

Catchafire
By Kristin aka Kiara Alexis Klay
Genre: Crossover, AU
Disclaimer: Neither of the combined worlds are mine. Dark Angel is James Cameron and Charles Eglee’s baby … Roswell belongs to Melinda Metz and Jason Katims. The song “Promiscuous” belongs to Nelly Furtado and her record label and producers. I am merely going to use the lyrics to emphasize some sequences, and other portions will be used as dialogue as the character “sings” it.
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Unconventional; Jumper – Rath, Liz Parker
Synopsis: Liz. Transgenic. Heat. Rath. Enough said.

~*~*~*~
chapter 4, Part B
~
“I am woman. Hear me roar … Meow.”
~*~*~*~

A deep, brassy growl originating deep in his diaphragm crawled its way upward to escape, throat vibrating in both warning to the gathered suitors and challenge to his target.

Rarely did Rath indulge in his more primitive side so noticeably in such public venue, but the sweet n spicy and feral and female scent pervading the room allowed for nothing else. That cool, detached sense of Other that was just always under his skin, waiting for the opportune moment, was in full effect.

Alien.

Just like he was.

Not that any of the gathered humans became aware of it. Their senses too underdeveloped and too desensitized and over civilized to pay any attention to the primal nuances that tensed the air like a strung bow.

Rath cut through the gathered masses as easily as a shark through a school of fish, and just as lithe and graceful and deadly. His eyes focused on his prize, a swaying, tempting mass of Midas-touched skin and leather and denim and sass.

He was stalking her, stride unhurried, pacing and paralleling her as she dipped and swayed and smirked and flirted and caught his eye, his gaze. There was no disguising the predatory intent, the Hunt was on, but instead of being the end, it had only started to begin.

A flash of some emotion, possibly recognition not of him but what he was, flittered through lust blackened eyes rimmed with kohl-darkened lashes before disappearing just as fast as he could process it.

Those molten espresso eyes considered him, sized him up, and debated. Some decision was made as Rath knew he had been measured, a slightly darker pink tipped tongue flicking out to wet a paler pink upper lip, a lip which followed its lower half in curving upwards in a leering smirk.

Then, teeth showing in a bared smile and proving that she was no mere homo sapien , she growled back at him, accepting his challenge and issuing her own.

I am female. I am Alpha, and I will not be taken lightly or without consequence. What do you think you can do about that?

One pierced eyebrow winged upward and whiskey touched eyes sharpened with interest. A hand raised without thought, the gesture surprising both of them. A second of staring at the proffered appendage and a disparaging snort preceded the graceful leaping dismount and then she was brushing by heading deeper toward the heart of the crowd. He was right there behind her, hands on both hips and a threatening glare toward any who ventured too close.

His fingers teased the exposed skin in a silky caress, enormously pleased at the involuntary shudder as that selfsame skin puckered in awareness for just an instant before he clamped his fingers harshly. Hips bucked and the short, lithe form beneath his hands in front of him tensed, snarling as he jerked the back of her body even with his front. His left hand explored upwards as his right splayed on a smooth, toned stomach holding her to him with ease as his head lowered to nip the tip of her ear in reproof.

“I don’t do’s follow da leader,” he purred as he licked and soothed the brief sting of his bite, left hand brushing the bottom edge of her opposite breast.

I am male. I am Alpha. I will not be dominated by anyone, anything, anywhere.

How you doin’ young lady
That feelin’ that you givin’ really drives me crazy
You don’t have to play about the joke
I was at a loss of words first time that we spoke


Small, but forceful hands covered his own in a bruising grip, the tiny hand wrapped around his left wrist tightening as her fingers flexed hard enough to pierce his flesh in the half-moon shape of her nails. The other almost teasing, roughly scratching at the binding on her stomach.

A twist upward – causing her body to slide deliciously, purposely , against every part of his front – and she twirled around to face him head on, arms now crossed in front of her and her eyes smoldering up at him even as she was forced by his altered grip to press flush against him, molding her curves and contours to his angles and planes and fitting oh so nicely.


You're looking for a girl that’ll treat you right
You lookin’ for her in the day time with the light
You might be the type if I play my cards right
I'll find out by the end of the night



“ ‘You expect me to just let you hit it, But will you still respect me if you get it?’ ” she asked with an arched brow of her own, head tilted as her body moved in time with his own, not that she could do any differently as closely as they were pressed together.


All I can do is try, gimme one chance
What’s the problem I don’t see no ring on your hand


Rath smirked and jerked her still crossed arms upward, holding both her wrists in one hand, briefly running his thumb against the second finger on her left to point out the obvious, trailing the fingers of his right hand in a leisurely glide down her arm to slide into that mass of curly, drying cocoa waves.

I be the first to admit it …

“I’m curious about you,” he murmured and she snorted at his deflection of her original question.

… you seem so innocent

Tangling and covering his whole hand with the damp strands, he wrenched her head back to nuzzle his nose against the fast beating pulse, inhaling her sharp essence as much as enjoying the involuntary noise his actions pulled from her throat, somewhere between a moan of pleasure and a hiss of pain and surprise and … did his senses deceive him?

Desire.

Want.

Need.

Hell yeah, he could work with that.

“Can’t answers ya question honestly when it applies to you as well as me, yes?” he finally whispered against the skin of her throat, lightly nipping and sucking and licking his way from one corner of her jaw across to the other.

You wanna get in my world, get lost in it/ Boy I’m tired of running, lets walk for a minute

The speakers continued to play their magic to the delight of the crowd. The combined heat and dancing and gyrating and lust and anger and disappointment and pleasure combining to form the background tableau for the little drama happening to the dominant pair on the dance floor.

Mijo, you got some damn, big cajones,” Hector shook his head as he watched in awe the Master at work.

Promiscuous girl
Wherever you are
I’m all alone
And it's you that I want

Promiscuous boy
You already know
That I’m all yours
What you waiting for?

Promiscuous girl
You're teasing me
You know what I want
And I got what you need

Promiscuous boy
Let's get to the point
Cause we're on a roll
Are you ready?


Her neck and back arched at a painful angle – why the hell was everyone so freakishly larger than she? – and neck under a divine assault, Jondy hummed with anticipation as her traitorous body filled with glee at this out and out domination and seduction. On one hand, it thrilled her to no end, evidenced by aforementioned traitorous body enjoying the sharp, stabs of pain as much as the seductive caresses and teasing. On the other, the part of Liz that was closer to the soldier X5-210 was sounding off at being so vulnerable.

Her neck was exposed for Blue Lady’s sake, and as enjoyable as it may be, submission was not a part of her vocabulary. Not as Jondy, one of the youngest of both the females and the general population of her unit. Certainly not as X5-210, the soldier trained and drilled by Colonel Lydecker’s command balked at the very idea. Not even as mousy small town brainiac Liz Parker, when faced with three scared and pissed off and angry alien teenager, backed down.

Just because she wanted to not have to worry about being in charge didn’t mean she had to be a doormat.

And what fun would it be if she made this easy?


Roses are red
Some diamonds are blue
Chivalry is dead
But you're still kinda cute


Purring softly, Liz pressed even closer to the taut body in front of her, breath hitching at the firm muscle against her own, the warm mouth sucking on her neck and shimmied her entire body in time to his grind and freed her wrists so she could scrape her nails down his wrists, playing over the tough leather cuff braces, to trail against broad shoulders, and wrap her arms around his neck.

She could feel his body respond, the evidence pressing against her stomach as she undulated to the beat of the music singing through her veins, pulling back from his embrace, and catching those whiskey eyes and holding them.


Hey! I can't keep my mind off you
Where you at, do you mind if I come through?


Rath allowed his grip on her wrists to ease, watching with growing anticipation and appreciation as those fingernails were put to good use again against his skin. He enjoyed the scraping, scratching roughness as the hard bits chased a trail across his shoulder, enjoying it even more as her arms wrapped about his neck, drawing that lithesome body ever closer to his own.

Releasing his hold on her wrists and neck, this close he could smell the sweet n’ spicy aroma that was all her, added with a curious blend of musk and pheromone he had never encountered before, and the thought of that tight body pressing her subtle curves into him caused him to grind his lower half into her. His grin widened as the sharp tang of her arousal suddenly peaked at the move and he chuckled, the laugh catching in his throat as she suddenly arched in a sinuous wave that had him alternately cursing and thanking whatever deity happened to be listening.

He glared down at her in reproof and met her laughing gaze.


‘I’m out of this world come with me to my planet; Get you on my level do you think that you can handle it?’ ” She cooed at him, batting her eyelashes and pouting as she played up the song.

Rath laughed out right and ran his hands up her back, under her shirt, the mix of rain and sweat and desire coating his seeking fingers and he groaned as he swooped down and claimed her mouth for his own, something he’d wanted to do ever since watching her shake her ass and other assets on top of that slick bar top.

They call me Thomas
last name Crown
Recognize game
I'm a lay mine's down


Liz choked back a sigh, her mouth too full of man and tongue and the harsh metallic twang of a barbell to allow it to come forth. She’d never kissed a man with both a tongue ring, and a lip ring before and it was an interesting sensation to say the least. The zest of pizza and marinara sauce with garlic was an interesting touch, but she wasn’t complaining.

The things the man was doing with that tongue ring…if he was even just half as talented pleasuring her mouth with that ring, then she was impatient to find out if it translated to other parts of her body as well.



“ ‘I'm a big girl I can handle myself, but if I get lonely I’ma need your help. Pay attention to me I don't talk for my health,’ “ she whispered against his neck, enjoying the shudder that rippled through the taunt body leading them through the packed dance floor.


“ ‘I want you on my team,’ “ he nipped her jaw.


“ ‘So does everybody else,’ “ she responded with a naughty smirk, laughing at him and pulling away to twirl and dance just in front of him, teasing, taunting.


Baby we can keep it on the low, Let your guard down ain’t nobody gotta know.


Coming back up behind her, grinding into the tight little rear, he whispered, “ ‘If you with it girl I know a place we can go.’ “

Looking over her shoulder, rolling her hips and ass against him as she rocked in time with the music, “ ‘What kind of girl do you take me for?’ ”


“ ‘Don't be mad, don't get mean,’” he grunted, spinning her back to face him.


“ ‘Don't get mad, don't be mean,’ “ she grinned back, contradicting herself by biting his neck, hard.


“ ‘Hey! Don't be mad, don't get mean,’” Rath slapped her butt in retaliation and her eyes darkened further if possible.


“ ‘Don't get mad, don't be mean,’ “ she sang back and tried to leave him again, but Rath wasn’t having any of it, yanking her back before she could complete her turn, holding her close and resting his forehead against hers.


“ ‘Wait! I don't mean no harm, I can see you with my t-shirt on, ‘ “ Rath leered, tugging at the hem of her shirt even as his nose nuzzled against her temple, placing feathery ghost kisses against the soft skin.


Feminine laughter rang out, and the temptress in his arms raked her fingernails down his chest from under his shirt.

“ ‘I can see you with nothing on, feeling on me before you bring that on,’ ” she pressed her breasts against his arm, twisting her neck to lick up the exposed skin on his opposite arm, all the while eyeing him with hooded eyes.


“Bring that on,” he hissed, grinding harder against her, and starting to move them off the dance floor toward the exit.

“You know what I mean,” she laughed, grinding back just as hard and running one hand against the front of his jeans.


“Girl, I’m a freak you shouldn't say those things,” Rath grabbed at her caressing hand, knowing the mood he was in he wouldn’t make it out the door without taking her if she kept that up.


“ ‘I’m only trying to get inside your brain, To see if you can work me the way you say,’ “ she pouted, a teasing moue on those passion swollen lips that were just begging him to take them again.


“ ‘It's OK, it's alright, I got something that you gonna like,’ “ he promised her, still holding her hand, and pressing it firmly against the swell of his jeans.

She hissed and squeezed back before retrieving her hand and dancing it up his abs to play with the chain attached to his jeans, arching backward as she danced toward the exit, pulling him along for the ride.


Hey is that the truth or are you talking trash
Is your game M.V.P. like Steve Nash



“ ‘Promiscuous Girl, Wherever you are, I’m all alone, And it’s you that I want, ‘ “ Rath hummed the last part as he stalked his prey through the crowd.


“ ‘Promiscuous Boy, I'm calling your name. But you're driving me crazy, The way you're making me wait,’ ” she growled the last at him, the look in her eyes serious and Rath’s body hummed in anticipation.


Promiscuous Girl, You're teasing me, You know what I want, And I got what you need.

The pair reached the door, passing by Hector and others, Liz flashing the bouncer a ‘see what you’re missing boy’ look and Rath growling as he captured her lips once again as they exited before the end of the song.


Promiscuous Boy
We're one in the same
So we don't gotta play games no more
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Re: Catchafire [DA xo Adult UC/Jumper] ch 4b 9-24

Post by KiaraAlexisKlay » Wed Sep 29, 2010 8:17 pm

Catchafire
By Kristin aka KiaraAlexisKlay
Disclaimer: Not mine. Roswell is Melinda Metz and Jason Katims love child. Dark Angel is the progeny of the collaborative genius of James Cameron and Charles Eglee. Both shows are also the property of their various networks, syndicates, and producers.
Genre: formerly a Birthday present to darkmoon, now part of a Crossover between the two T.V. shows of Roswell and Dark Angel.
Pairing: Jumper – Rath, Liz
Summary: A little birthday cheer for someone who is so near, my good friend D, who’s been made of awesome to me! I have revamped this a little from the original version. I felt this went very well with the way the story has been going.
Rating: Adult

~~~
Interlude
~~~
Soft groans and hushed moans serenaded the night amongst the telltale creaking and muted slaps of slicked skin against skin. Muscles clenched and twisted, relaxed and drew taunt as nails dug into unresisting flesh. Blunted teeth drew blood only to be soothed by the lesser burn of tongue and saliva. Fingers entwined handfuls of hair and cloth, toes digging deep against the press of the mattress.

Breasts brushed against firm pectorals and dual sensitized skin shot ecstatic agony spiraling from the origin point to deep in the center. Another hand spasms and grips at exposed hips, jerking downward even as there is a reciprocating upward thrust. Eyes darkened and dilated by mutual lust and need and desire meet and hold, baring teeth in challenging snarls met and answered. The resulting response was nothing so delicate as a kiss but a clash of Titans. Wills were threatened and run over while one mouth punished the other with bruising intensity.

Abdominals clench, hamstrings tense and the rhythm halts for a moment as momentum from a thrust carries up and over, reversing the positions, a new order established. One hand releases the hip and grasps seeking hands, jerking them forward, up, and back down, pinning them in place and a growl commands obedience and nothing less. A wriggle, a buck, and twist of the hips and body do nothing but deepen the growl, the hand manacled about the wrists tighten and press harder against the solid wall, warning.

Commanding.

The softer, smaller body beneath relaxes in obedience, but obedience isn’t the same as submission, and there will be its turn another time to command, to demand adherence. Another warning squeeze to make sure the wrists stay in place, and the unoccupied hand begins to move. Just barely at first while the other distracts with pain, this one subtlety starts to pleasure. A graze at first, not enough to be considered a caress, but then bolder, almost groping, trailing a current of fire along its path on the curved edge of hips, abdomen, rib, and coming to stop just shy the swell of breast.

Teasing back down, a wry twist of lips into a knowing smirk at the burble of protest coming from underneath, strong, callused fingers skim vague, curving patterns on an exposed center taut with anticipation and delighted torture. Betrayed by the esoteric touch, the under body reacts, jerking and arching upward to meet the touch and a pleased rumble crooned as a thumb traced circles around and inside a petite navel.

A head ducks down to bite, nip, lick, and suckle from clavicle in a diagonal to the breast opposite, moist air expelled creating goosebumps and trembling wherever it touches. Fingers tightening about the wrists – no, not forgotten- a warm, sweltering tongue dips between the valley of the twin globes to blaze a path to the lone navel, circles the indention, before continuing lower to a waiting heat.

The taller, stronger body on top is now stretched rather awkwardly to keep the wrists in place, but the smaller one doesn’t protest, and satisfied, they are released on probation to focus on more important matters. Crouched down, weight shifting from one leg to another to balance as one leg nudged smaller ones apart so knees could kneel between the small confines of arched leg quivering with need and anticipation.

Eyes meet again, and something softer, more forgiving and tender snaps across the connection for an instant before its replaced by the familiar lust and that’s all the warning before a lunge plunges deep to join the pair in the Dance of Life.

~~~
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Re: Catchafire [DA xo Adult UC/Jumper] interlude 9-29

Post by KiaraAlexisKlay » Mon Oct 11, 2010 12:33 pm

Catchafire
by Kristin aka KiaraAlexisKlay
Disclaimer: Neither Roswell, nor Dark Angel are mine. I am making no profit off of this story.
Genre: AU, UC, Crossover - Dark Angel, Roswell tv shows
Rating: Adult
Pairing: UC - Jumper [rath, liz]
Synopsis: Elizabeth "Liz" Parker is actually the transgenic, Jondy, X5-210. Rath is Michael's "twin" and the alternate clone of the Antarian Warlord that share's Rath's name and memories. When Liz-Jondy goes into her heat cycle, she takes off for New York ... home of the Dupes and the best pizza in the world.
A/N: the last chapter has arrived! I know that you all are probably hoping that I was going to continue, but I think I found a good stoping point for this story. Besides ... you know that I writing the sequel .... don'tcha? :wink:


~
Epilogue
~

Liz purred out a groan, luxuriating in the feel of sore, worn muscles stretching, the muscles of her back popping slightly before she settled into the bus seat more comfortably. Lazy, satiated eyelids drooped as she caught a yawn in one fist, curling one leg underneath her and leaning heavily against the cool glass window.

She allowed her head to drop back, temple pressed against the cooler glass, idly scanning the bustling streets out of habit ... a perhaps some niggling, minuscle sliver of hope ... but in the end it just became passing scenery as the large bus plugged along the streets of New York on a belch of diesel fumes.

Liz knew she had stayed too long in one place, but found she couldn't help herself. Even after her heat had been slaked, she had been thrilled and dismayed to find out that she hadn't wanted to leave her newfound partner.

And that in itself was a problem ... Jondy knew it was bad enough that she had chipped out a small niche for her "Liz Parker" persona, and stayed at her Roswell residence too much for Big Brother's tastes: Zack was all the time demanding that she move on, that after the shooting she was at an even greater risk of exposure.

But Jondy was tired of the constant moving around. Of never really having anything or anyone to truly call hers. And even though Roswell really wasn't "hers" ... it and the people and friends she'd made there were friends and loved ones belonging to one Elizabeth Parker, not Jondy, X5-210, escaped government child-soldier experiement. Still ... Jondy had become fond of the little intimatcies of belonging in a small town, of belonging to a group of people that didn't care how fast she stripped down and rebuilt an M-16, or how many ways she could kill an opponent and not leave any forensic evidence behind.

For the first time since she had settled in New Mexico, Jondy fought against this newfound desire to move. It wasn't because she wanted to follow Big Brother's orders ... quite the opposite. It was because she had discovered a new someone, a new somewhere, that could be hers, not Liz Parker's or whatever her name-of-the-moment was, but her Jondy, X5-210.

A smirking smile tugged the corner of her lips as she replayed who that certain someone was.

~~~

"So what's I get ta calls ya?" a gravelly New York flavored voice rumbled in her ear, vibrating through her body, and Jondy tilted her head so she could rest her chin on her parnter's chest and stare at him from her position draped across his naked body like some ancient skin blanket.

"Does it matter? You'll only call me by one of your pet names regardless," she quirked both lips and eyebrow, eyes sparkling cat-touched golden brown in the dim light of the spotlight streaming in from the window.

"True," one heavily muscled shoulder twitched in an agreeing shrug. The arm that was attached to said shoulder tightened it's grip about her waist and started tracing designs across her exposed lower back.

"But I'd still like ta knows," he shifted forward and pulled her toward him at the same, meeting her eager lips with his own teeth and tongue.

"Tell me yours, and I'll tell you mine," she groaned back, back arching as that talented tongue suckled the curve between her neck and ear, wondering at how her inner kitty had yet to protest to this blatant territorial marking behavior.

Jondy had rules. No man was to ever leave his mark on her, EVER. Not tongue, not teeth, not fingernail, nothing. Zip. Nada. Not to be.

And yet her she was almost tamely allowing this man to claim her as HIS property. Perhaps, she mused, her fingers tracing the blistering red scratches her own nails had tattooed upon his skin, it was because she had claimed HIM as well.

"First name Thomas, last name Crown," he laughed against her breast, and Jondy found herself responding in kind.

"Then you can just call me Promiscuous Girl and leave it at that," Jondy whispered against his ear.


~~~

The bus had now left the city proper and was making its way through the roads of New York State and Liz pondered at the pang that lit her heart as she wondered what her lover was doing right now.

~~~

"RATH! What's wrong?!" Ava ran into the room, heart pounding furiously as she came to investigate the pain filled howl that her soul knew to be her brother's.

Zan's familiar presence came up behind her, and Lonnie's mingled not a few seconds later and all three stared at tension strung figure against the wall. Rath stood, hands and fists knuckled white against the wall, bracing himself as his head hung low, only the tight shoulder blades and the shaking mohawk any indicator that something was wrong.

A deep throated growl dominated the room and Zan pulled Ava and his sister back out of some primal instinct, shoving them behind him and out the doorway.

"She's gone," was the strained whispered growl, and then a rumbling keening shook the room.

~~~

Finis
~~~
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