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Treasure - Bruno Mars:



That is what you are

Honey, you're my golden star

you know you can make my wish come true

If you let me treasure you

if you let treasure you




Smaug's yawn rang through giant halls of Erebor, creating a huge echo. He shifted in his place on top of the mound of gold but only a little as he didn't want to disturb the sleeping form next to him. The dragon's golden eyes wandered over to the little Hobbit that was curled up on top of the gold with Smaug's tail curled around him. A soft purr escaped Smaug's throat as he gazed down at his beloved. He lowered his head and softly rubbed his snout against the sleeping Hobbit. He was gentle with motions, trying his best not to wake Bilbo. He snorted, creating warmth over the Hobbit so that he wouldn't go cold.


The dragon lifted his head a little as his eyes gazed over at the mass of treasure that dwarves had uncovered. True that he may be the wealthiest being on Middle Earth but the treasure he'd stolen from the people of Erebor was nothing compared to the treasure that was beside him. Bilbo Baggins was his true treasure. Also, true that the Arkenstone but he'd gotten his love back in return.


Smaug curled up around Bilbo and his own tail, folded his wings over the two of them and soon was lost in a wave of sleep.


Bilbo was his beautiful treasure.

Chapter Text

Dope - Lady Gaga:


My heart would break without you

might not awake without you

been hurting low from living high for so long

I'm sorry and I love you

stay with me blue bottom blue

I'll keep on searching for answer

'Cause I need you more than dope




John could see it Sherlock's movements and in the man's blue-green eyes that he was bored and he'd taken those damned drugs again. He'd often done so when he was bored and that there was no case for them to work on. Which was not often, only a few times. But for John – a few times was enough. He was sick of it! He thought that Sherlock's smoking habit was bad but this just took the piss! Out of the corner of his eye, the ex-army doctor could see Sherlock's erratic movements as he paced the floor of the living room. He felt his eyebrow twitch as the consulting detective's actions got on his nerves. He sighed.


“For goodness sake, will you stop already?” he snarled.


Sherlock jumped as he stopped in his tracks. He was used to John sometimes yelling at him but there was something in his voice that made Sherlock unsure. The male sighed.


“You can't stop me, John, my brain's always working--.”


“I'm not talking about the bloody 'mind palace' thing you do. I'm talking about this bloody drug habit of yours. You have to stop this, Sherlock, before it goes too far.”


“Oh, John, you know it's not often I take this. It's only when--.”


“It doesn't matter how many times you've taken the stuff, it's about what it does to you. Didn't you ever learn that?”


“Why is this such a--?”


“A big deal? Because I--.” John stopped himself. He'd almost given away too much. His..his damned feelings for the detective. For the years he'd spent with Sherlock, he'd slowly developed feelings for him and out right denied them when the matter was brought up by others and himself and he'd dated other women to maybe see if his feelings were true. They had! His heart and chances had broken when Sherlock had jumped and was left for two years. Greiving for his friend and sitting, cooped up in his home with a broken heart.


“What, John? John, what's the matter?”


John sighed and went back to his paper before saying. “Just stop taking that stuff all right? Find something else to clear your boredom. Like shooting the wall or something.”


There was a long silence. John was wondering if Sherlock was contemplating the idea of actually firing a gun at the wall. He looked up to find the detective staring at him. Oh, great! John thought. He was doing his whole deduction thing again. Who knows what he could be cooking up?




Sherlock stood there staring at John. His deduction ploy was kicking in. As he looked at John, the words sprang to life as he analysed his partner in crime. John was angry, sure, but something was quite right. The way he had dropped the conversation so easily, there's was more to it than just his little drug habit. His green-blue eyes met with John's blue ones. Yes, there definitely was something else there than just anger...something...something that...was quite the opposite. Very opposite.


Admiration, prehaps. No...that wasn't it. It was more than admiration. It was more than...


Sherlock felt his heart quicken as it all clicked into place.


John was...


“Sherlock?” John's voice cut him from his thoughts.




“I asked you several times what's wrong. And you blanked me out.”


“Sorry, John. It's just...I was thinking that was all.”


John sighed. He closed the newspaper and set it down on the table. “Fine. I'm going out.” he said, as he got up and went for his coat.




“Just around the street and back. I won't be long.” and with that he swung his coat on and left.


Sherlock stood there, watching the spot where John had been sitting. Slowly, he moved to the couch. He could slowly feel the effects of the small amount of morphine he'd taken wearing off. He would have taken more but...right now he didn't feel like it. He had something to keep his mind in check. Something that could cure him of his boredom. He lay down on the couch and placed his hand to his mouth.


How long had John been feeling this way? When did John suddenly fall in love with him? It must have been sometime during when they'd been living together. Obviously. But when and how? He remembered that when they'd been on their first case together – 'A Study in Pink' as John had called it on his blog – and they'd been awaiting their killer and John had asked him about his sexuality. He'd also given him that look, that look that Sherlock couldn't find the meaning of. It had puzzled him, more so than when he'd tried to figure out John's middle name.


Anyway, so what had had been the first sign of John;s affections towards him? A series of flashes of him and John together projected from his mind palace. Wait...the images vanished as though someone had smashed glass. His eyes opened. What the hell did it matter of when it started? John Hamish Watson was in love with Sherlock Holmes.




It was at least ten minutes past two when John returned to the floor. He found Sherlock in the kitchen, pouring something down the drain.


“Sherlock, what are you...?”


But as John came over, he realised what the detective was doing. In Sherlock's hand was the bottle of morphine. John watched as the liquid fell from the bottle nozzle and down into the sink. Sherlock shook the bottle a few ties to rid the liquid drug before setting it down on the sink counter. He looked at John, who stared back at him, questioningly. He walked over to the bin and putting his foot on the pedal, making the bin lid pop up. He looked at John again. John walked over and looked in the bin. A small bag of white powder sat inside. He'd thrown the drugs away. John smiled at Sherlock.


“See? That's a start.”


Sherlock smiled back. He closed the bin and moved a little closer to John. His slim hands came up to cup John's face. Sherlock's face suddenly came up close to John's and his lips and pressed them against a kiss. John couldn't believe it. He could feel his heart beat quickly as his room mate's lips moved and brushed his. Sherlock was kissing him!


But then the moment was lost when Sherlock broke the kiss and looked into the doctor's eyes.


“I need you more than them.” he whispered.


Chapter Text

Revolver - Madonna ft. Lil Wayne (Nightcore version):


My love's a revolver

my sex is a killer

do you wanna die happy?

Do you wanna die happy

I sent a bang, bang!




Peter ran.


As fast as he'd ever run before. Why had the Circus put him on this mission? They must have known about his previous encounters?, they didn't. Peter turned down a street and ducked a gun fired. Peter looked round to see his pursuer. He hurried down the road and into a house. It was abandoned and there were no lights except for those on the street. Peter moved into a dark space under the stairs. He knew that he was completely covered in shadows. His pursuer would never find him now.


Peter knew that no one in the Circus knew about Peter's sexuality or his...encounter with the man in question that he was being chased by. It wasn't any of their business about what he did outside of his work as he didn't question theirs. But the Circus was always burying their nose into matters that didn't concern them. But why did Smiley have to give him the mission to hunt down this man?


Peter pressed himself up against the wall and he made his breaths more quieter as a door into the large hallway opened and Hector Dixon walked in. The assassin was alone and his lackie, Fabian, wasn't with him. The blonde's eyes wandered to Hector's hand that held a gun, probably fully loaded. The MI6 agent stayed still, keeping his eyes trained on Hector, who was looking round the room, scrutinising every inch. Then Peter's fears were confirmed when Hector came round and stared at the spot where Peter was hiding. The assassin smiled. Oh, that smile...


The gun that Hector held was raised towards Peter. The blonde felt his heart skip a beat.


“Hello, Peter.” Hector cooed. “Lovely to see you's been such a long time.”


With Peter now caught again, he slowly stepped out of the shadows and stared at his former lover. “Hello, Hector.” he said, placing his hands in his pockets and staring at him. “I wish the circumstances were different.”


Hector snorted a laugh. “Yeah. I bet you do. When was the last time we saw each other?” Then his face changed to one of mock surprise. “Oh, that's right! The night we hooked up in that little hotel in Barcelona. You left me.”


“I had no other choice.” Peter said. “I couldn't let people find out about us and have you killed.”


“Do you forget who you're talking to?” Hector snarled. The gun never wavered from his trained hands. Peter remembered those hands along his own body...many times. Along his bare skin. “I'm an assassin, Peter. Or has our little time apart made you forget that?”


Peter sighed. “Nothing has ever made me forget you, Hector.”


This time the look of surprise on Hector's face was real. Peter could see the gun now wavering a little, but the moment it fell, it was fixed back on Peter.


“Just another little sob story. Sorry, Guillam.”


“I know you are. And so am I.” Peter then moved closer towards his ex. “But please, you have to know--.”


“I don't want to hear your bloody excuses, Guillam! You left me all alone. Stop moving.”


Peter smirked. “I think that's the first time I ever heard you say that. Me moving has never bothered you before.”


Even in the dim light from the street lights outside of the house, Peter could see Hector's cheeks going pink.


“Shut up!” he snarled.


Peter sighed but still kept walking forwards. Soon, he stopped when the gun was pressed on his chest. Hector was staring at him as though he was mad. Peter's hand came up and brushed Hector's hand with the gun aside. The assassin was crumbling. Peter moved closer as he looked down at Dixon.


“Tell me,” he said. “Just say to me...that you have missed this. Missed you and I. Missed me.”


Hector stared at Peter, as though he wanted nothing more than to punch him. But he didn't. He dropped the gun somewhere behind him and pulled him down into a kiss.


The kiss said it all. Hector had missed Peter. This was going to take a lot of explaining to Smiley.





In the conference room of the Circus HQ, George Smiley was examining two profiles. One of Peter Guillam and the other of Hector Dixon. He stared at them for a while before smiling. I wonder if it worked, Smiley thought.



Chapter Text

Future Guy - Lady Gaga: 


if you could only take me in to a place we've never been

he's so unreal

he's a mannequin

a synthetic, plastic, rubber man

I'll buy a flying car, on a shooting star

to get you my future lover

he's robo hunk

my mechanic guy

and I'm stuck in his metal...robo eyes!




The first time Julian met Oliver was after the lights went out and the Dark Ages came again. He'd met him, found him utterly charming and fixed him back together. Soon, the two were dating and living together as a couple. Today, Julian had Oliver in front of him, in his lap, and Julian was examining the scar that ran round Oliver's head. It was a little jagged, like a broken bottle, from where Andy had hit him over the head before the lights had gone out. It still looked fresh even though it had been months and months ago.


“Is it bad?” Oliver asked as he watched his boyfriend examine his face.


“No, it looks as though it's healing,” Julian murmured. “ looks fresh. How is that possible?”


“Maybe, it's an alien thing?”


Julian hummed. “Possibly?” then a smile came on his face. “Oh, well. Consider it a birth mark.”


Oliver smiled. He slipped off Julian's lap but still stayed close to him.


“You don't have to anywhere, right?” the estate agent asked.


“No, I'm good.” Julian said with a smile.


“Oh, good.” and Oliver leaned in and pressed his lips against the white blonde's. Julian moaned in surprise but returned the kiss with eagerness. Oliver smiled against his boyfriend's lips. Julian's hand wandered from Oliver's knee and up his leg, dancing along the thigh before reaching the area where the thigh and hip met. Oliver pulled back slightly with a grin on his face.


“Easy, tiger.” the alien life form purred.


Julian smiled and leaned back in to kiss his boyfriend again. Julian had thought time and time again that there must have been some kind of chemical in the robot's system that made him crave Oliver more. He knew that when Oliver's kind had settled in his old home town, they had used all means of contact for humans to become one of them. But since the lights had gone out and the Dark Ages had settled in for five year before leaving, the robotic alien race or 'Blanks' had no need for that any more. They had advanced from their murderous lives and evolved into a peaceful race and lived along side the humans. But some human were still a little touchy about the incident and boycotted them. But now those days were over.


Julian felt himself being pushed back on the couch by Oliver. Secretly, Julian LOVED it when Oliver became submissive. He thought it was maybe his robotic side kicking in as the alien race were founded as slaves. The poor things. But even if it didn't, Oliver would still make himself bend to Julian's will whenever they were able to have sex. Julian pulled back from the kiss and watched as Oliver straddled his hips and smiled down at him.


“Okay, then.” Oliver said, his voice sounding like it was cracking. “I think a new change is in order.”


Julian raised an eyebrow but then it changed to a look of amazement when Oliver started to take off Julian's clothes. The white shirt came off first and was soon dumped on the floor. The darker blonde leaned in and whispered in Julian's ear.


“I think it's my turn to show you how an alien's pleasures their mates.”


Chapter Text

E.T. - Katy Perry ft. Kanye West: 


They say be afraid

You're not like the others

futuristic lover

different DNA

they don't understand you




Arthur was ready to scream. Ford had fucked up again on the hitch hike. First, it had been on the Vogan fleet ship and now on this ship. Arthur looked out of the window of the spacecraft, the name of the ship was called USS. Vengeance. He cast his gaze from the side of the ship and out into the stars that glittered like jewels. He'd missed this. It was something that he'd missed whilst living on Earth 2.0, looking out at the different planets and seeing the constellations.


“So, what now?” Arthur asked, as he caught sight of the constellation, Ursa Minor.


“Now,” said ford, examining a panel console. “we wait for a friendly face to--.” But he didn't get far with his sentence, when a door opened – thankfully with no sounds of emotion like the ones on Zaphod's ship – and several people dressed in black and armed with guns burst in the room and surrounded them, shuffling them both into the middle of the group.


“Stay where you are.” one of them ordered as the rest of them held their guns high. Then there was movement and two of the crew members shifted, allowing a tall man to step through. He had piercing blue eyes, dark hair that was smoothed back perfectly and, like his crew, was also wearing black. His cheekbones looked chiselled as though they could cut glass...and he was bloody gorgeous. But he didn't seem happy to see them.


“Well, I see that we have two stowaways on board.” he cooed. Arthur felt a little weak at the knees hearing the man's deep baritone voice. “Who are you and what are you both doing on my ship?”


“I...I'm Arthur...of Earth 2.0 and this is my friend, Ford. He's originally from the planet, Betelgeuse.”


“Earth 2.0? You mean there's another one?”


“Yes. It was destroyed.”




Arthur nodded.


“What lumbering fool did that?” the man asked.


“An idiot friend of ours. He signed a contract, thinking it was an autograph.”


The man's expression changed from sternness to exasperation. “I see. Well, I am Captain Khan Noonien Singh of the USS. Vengeance. Until I find out what your intentions are on board my ship, I must ask you to be led into our holding cells.”




Khan was done talking with Arthur and Ford. He hadn't talked with Ford long as he found the alien to be talking nonsense. But when he came to talk with Arthur, he found the earth man's words to make sense. True, the man bumbled a little and soon he allowed the two hitch hikers to wander free from the holding cells. Ford left Arthur to grab some food...and soon had to be escorted by one of the crew members. Khan turned to Arthur, who was watching the crew working on the brig.


“You know you can get some food.” he said to the brunette. Arthur looked to the man and smiled.


“Oh, I'm good thanks.” Arthur said, before refocusing his attention back on the crew. He sighed. “God, I didn't realise how much I missed this.”


Khan raised an eyebrow. “Missed what?”


“This!” Arthur said, gesturing to the crew. “Travelling through space. Seeing what it's like.”


“You've travelled in space before?”


“Yes but I was sort of dragged along by Ford and we hitch hiked on a Vogan ship--.”


“A Vogan ship?”


“Yeah, big mistake and then we ended up on another ship that my...ex girlfriend was on.”




“Yeah, I though she'd gone off without me but she apparently went space-hopping with another guy who turned out to be complete idiot.”


Khan smiled. “Sounds like you had quite an adventure.”


“Yes, it was.” Arthur said with a smile. “Have you had any adventures of your own?”


The smile that had been on Khan's face slowly slipped. Did he dare tell someone he'd just met that he was a former terrorist and had been put under serious community service and a trial until he could be trusted with his crew? Perhaps not, it was just as good he'd didn't answer because at that moment Ford came in.


“Arthur, Arthur can I talk to you for a minute?”


Arthur muttered and apology and went over to speak with Ford. Khan watched him go and hoped that he'd return quite soon.




“The hell do you mean 'he's a known terrorist'?” Arthur asked, incredulously.


“Exactly, what I mean, Artie. He's a fucking terrorist. He's destroyed building and killed civilians from Earth in another universe and other planets to get what he wants.”


“So, why hasn't he been caught?”


“Because he's outwitted his captures.” Ford explained. “He and his crew, here, are all super-humans. We can't fight them off as they'll know our every move and be able to with stand it.”


Arthur blinked. “How do you know all this? It can't be in the Guide, can it?”


“Yeah. It is. Here.” and Ford handed him the book. Arthur took it and saw that it was already uploaded on to the page in question. A small photo was placed on the page whilst a full biography on Khan was typed up along side.


Khan Noonien Singh


Known to many as one of the dangerous men in the galaxy. Was frozen form many years by the Galactic Board and was woken by Captain Alexander Marcus. Destroyed buildings and slaughtered hundreds by trying to save his crew. He was soon brought to justice by the crew of the USS. Enterprise. He was soon frozen for several years but woken to be put under surveillance along with his crew under the watchful eye of the Enterprise crew. So, far he's been kept on a leash and behaviour is moderate.


'Been kept on a leash'? Arthur felt sick. So, that's why Khan had looked upset by his question. He'd lied to Arthur. It was understandable why he'd stayed quiet about the whole thing. He was ashamed and was now an errand dog for this Galactic Board. He stared at the article for a few moment before handing the guide to Ford and saying.


“I'll be back in minute.”


Ford nodded and watched as Arthur left.




Arthur didn't find Khan on the brig where he'd left him. He found him his quarters of where he'd been led by a crew member. Arthur had been surprised that the crew member's behaviour – after all the ship was most likely full of criminals.


He stepped in the room and found Khan sitting at his deals with paper work on the desktop. The dark haired male looked up and smiled at Arthur.


“Hello, Arthur. Would you like a tour of the ship?”


“No, thank you.” Arthur snapped.


Khan blinked and frowned. “What's wrong, Arthur?”


“Why the hell didn't you tell me you were an...well are a well known terrorist?”


Khan's face suddenly became passive. It was almost like he was touchy on the matter. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Arthur. Not any one of us like to talk about our past lives. Especially me. I'm not proud of what I did. I want to make serious amends, start a fresh. Arthur, the only reason I did it was to recover my crew. They're family, in a way. My only friends.” the captain sighed. “You have every right to fear me, Arthur. You and your friend have my permission to leave if you so wish.”


A silence fell between them as they started at each other. For some reason, Arthur was beginning to feel sorry for the captain. Man, he had been quick to jump on things about the ship's crew and captain and probably should have heard his side.


“I am sorry for the people's lives that I have killed or hurt.”


“Khan,” Arthur interrupted. “It's fine. It's understandable. You and your crew are making better lives for themselves. Yourself. Maybe the others should know that, too.”


A small smile came up on Khan's cupid bow lips making Arthur's heart flutter.


“Thank you, Arthur.” Khan whispered.


Arthur smiled. But what Arthur didn't know was, was that Khan's heart was beating faster as he watched Arthur's beautiful smile.


Now, I could be wrong but I think we're witnessing the beginnings of love, here.


Chapter Text

To the Moon and Back - Savage Garden: 


I would fly to the moon and back

if you'll be, if you'll be my baby

I've gotta ticket for a world where we belong,

so, would you be my baby?




Khan Noonien Singh had never looked much into love. He'd been too busy striving on his plans, saving his crew and trying to compromise with the Starfleet Enterprise. But when he'd met Arthur Dent, all of that had changed. The earth man had been reluctant at first getting to know Khan when he'd found out about Khan being a terrorist but then when he'd found out about exactly why Khan had done all those terrible things, he'd understood Khan and slowly the two began to get to know one another. Then after saving Khan's life and with Arthur supporting a minor injury, the two confessed their feelings for each other. The crew of the USS. Vengeance had been surprised that their captain had found someone but soon was celebrated.


Arthur was now standing in the room which he and Khan shared. He stared at the moon that circled around the large space where the earth had been. Arthur could see something fluttering. Something that looked old and rustic. Arthur chuckled. Maybe now he could prove to others that people had actually landed on the moon. He chuckled and took a sip of his tea.


He was glad that Khan had managed to stop somewhere he could get tea for Arthur. If Arthur had no tea then who knows what would have happened. The door to their room opened and Khan stepped inside. Arthur turned and smiled at him as he came closer.


“Everything all right?” Khan asked as he came over to the Englishman.


“Yeah. Just enjoying the view.” Arthur replied, gesturing to the moon.


Khan hummed a small laugh, he wrapped his arms around Arthur and pressed a kiss to his head. “So am I.”


Arthur's cheeks went pink at his words. A purr like sound left Khan's throat as he nuzzled his face against Arthur's neck.


“I'm glad that you are mine, Arthur. I won't know where I'd be without you.”


“Living a life of crime?” Arthur suggested. “Who knows you could have just swept me off my feet?”


Khan chuckled. “I could have. Or I could have just asked you to be my lover and I would fly you to the moon and back.”


Arthur sighed. “You don't need to.” he then leaned up and kissed Khan on the lips again. “Besides I need something to get me away from Zaphod.”


Khan's beautiful laughter rang in Arthur's ears as he held his lover close.


Chapter Text

Remember Me This Way - Jordan Hill: 


I don't need eyes to see

the love you bring to me

no matter where I go

and I know that you'll be there

forever more a part of time you're everywhere

I'll always care




Tim sat on his bed in the dorm of Cambridge Uni. His hands were clasped together in his lap, shaking. He felt sick. Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes. He looked over to the window were the sun was pouring in. How fucking cruel could you get?!


He needed to know. How long did it take to make a bloody phone call? He needed to know if Stephen was okay! It hadn't been easy for Tim since...since the party. He'd been outside with him, looking up at the stars, talking about composers, the stars and physics. They'd been lying on the grass too. Tim soon got up as he'd been feeling a little stiff...that's the panic started. Stephen complained about not getting up. He couldn't move himself, only to struggle on to the ground. Tim had ran inside to get help. His father had helped Stephen up and eventually inside. Soon, Stephen had been rushed to hospital to under go tests. Now, Tim was waiting.


And waiting.


And waiting. And...waiting.


Even though Tim wasn't a religious man, he ran prayers through his head, hoping that Stephen would be all right. The door to his dorm opened and a professor he'd never seen came in. he must have been one of Stephen's tutors.


“Timothy Canterbury?”




“The hospital called. Stephen wants to see you, they've sent a taxi for you to be taken there.”


Tim sniffed. “Thank you. I'll be there in a minute.”


The teacher nodded and left the room. Tim let out a loud sigh of relief as tears of joy, indescribable joy, fell down his cheeks. Stephen was okay. He was going to be okay. He wiped his eyes of tears that he'd shed. He couldn't look like this. He could not let Stephen know that he'd been worrying over him.




The ward that Stephen sat in had only a few visitors in. Tim stepped in and found Stephen, sitting up in bed, looking glum. He walked over to his friends bedside.


“Hello, stranger.” he cooed.


Stephen looked up and grinned. Tim felt his heart skip a beat.


“Tim, you came!”


Tim sat down on the chair beside the bed. “How are you feeling? What the hell's been going on?”


“Doctor's managed to find out what is wrong with me.” Stephen said.


“Well, that's good, isn't it?” Tim asked.


Stephen cast a grim look at him and Tim felt his stomach sink.


“What's wrong? What...?”


Stephen sighed and sat forwards. With soft words in Tim's ear and a promise not to react until Stephen had finished explaining, Stephen told Tim everything the doctor told him. About how the signals of his nerves were dying and and he would be unable to move but his brain would still be fine. When Stephen was finished, Tim, once again, had tears in his eyes.




Tim couldn't speak as though he'd forgotten how to. He didn't know what to say to his best friend...his...crush was a walking dead man. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say. When he did, his voice cracked.




Stephen sighed. “Supposed to come gradually. I don't know how long I've got.”


“, don't say that. Please, Stephen, don't say it like that. There's got to be a way to stop this.”


“I don't think so.” Stephen said, his gaze focused on the hospital bedsheets. “But it's only a matter of time happens.”




“Listen, Tim.” the bespectacled teen said, moving closer to his friend. “There's something I need to tell you. I don't care if you don't feel the same way but you have to know.”


“What is it?”


Stephen leaned back towards Tim's ear and whispered. “I love you, Tim. Since I was sixteen, I've loved you.”


“You do?” Tim whispered.


“Yes. I might as well tell you now, then...”


“Thank god for that.” Tim whispered, sighing with relief.


Stephen looked at Tim, bewildered. “Why?”


“'Cause I do, too, and if this room wasn't packed with people I'd kiss you right now.”


A smile came up on Stephen's face. “You do?”


“Yeah, I do.”


Stephen's smile grew bigger. “That's good to know then.”


Tim smiled back. “Well, let's focus on something happier. So, when are you going to get out of here?”


“In a few days. I'll be able to focus on getting my PhD.”


“That's great, Stephen.”


“What will you be focusing on?”


“I dunno,” Tim sighed. “Haven't decided on which one yet.”


“Well, I'm sure you'll figure something out.”


“Eventually.” Tim laughed, Stephen following.


“Listen, when we get back to Cambridge, when is your next free lesson?”


“Um, I think Monday after lunch. I was thinking about doing some studying.”


“Good. Keep to that story. 'Cause I'll sneak in when there's no one around and we can spend sometime together.”


“I'd like that.”


Chapter Text

Wiriting's On the Wall - Sam Smith:


I've been here before,

But always hit the floor

I've spent a life time running

and I always get away,

but with you I'm feeling something

that makes me want to stay




Smaug the Magnificent, the greatest of calamities, had met Bilbo Baggins when he was on a quest to win back Erebor, the gold, the Arkenstone and kill Smaug. At first he'd never seen Bilbo as he'd been hiding with the precious thing he'd been carrying. When he'd seen him, Smaug had talked with the creature. He'd never smelt a creature like Bilbo before. Bilbo had never told him about his true identity, just his name and all these lovely titles he had like 'He-who-walks-unseen-, 'riddle-maker-, 'luck-wearer' and 'barrel-rider'. But Smaug didn't care. He liked Bilbo, he had been the only company that Samug had in sixty years, apart from the thrushes. The dragon leaned down towards Bilbo and purred in his throat.


“What would you say if I told you I wanted to keep you alive?” Smaug asked.


Bilbo blinked. “What do you mean?”


“Live here amongst this gold with me, as my mate.” Smaug suggested as he began to circle Bilbo.


“Your mate?”


“Yes, little one.” the fire drake purred. “You would be the most valuable things amongst this hoard. So, Bilbo the Barrel-rider, what do you say?”


Bilbo was silent. He gazed up at the dragon for a few moments, then around at the large stack of treasure. He was thinking over Smaug's offer. Finally, he looked back up at the dragon...


And grinned.


“Yes, I'll be your mate. As long as you'll be mine.”


Smaug purred contently. “It would be my honour.”


So, Bilbo stayed. Smaug had sent the dwarves running and soon the two lovers were left in peace. They spent some days mating amongst the piles of gold or sleeping on it. But one day, Smaug made the mistake of going out and was killed. A black arrow to the spot where his 'Achilles' Heel' was. Bilbo had been worried, so he'd gone out to find him. Soon, he'd found Smaug lying dead on a forest floor. Bilbo was overcome with grief and then weeks later, he died of a broken heart.


But Fate gave them another chance to rekindle their love. In the year of 2010, Smaug and Bilbo lived again but in different forms.


As Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.


Two years after working together as private investigators, they'd become lovers. They lay in Sherlock's room, asleep, sometimes they alternated rooms, depending on how frustrated they were when feeling the urge to bang each other's brains out. Sherlock turned over in his sleep, draping his arm over John's waist. He was beginning to have a strange dream. He dreamt that he was an enormous dragon and he had just woken from a very long sleep. A sleep of possibly sixty years. He was prowling through a mound of treasure towards a small person that looked at him in a mixture of awe and fright. The tiny person looked like...




Sherlock growled in his throat.


Who are you?” he asked. “And where do you come I ask?”


I...” the look-a-like John stammered. “My name is Bilbo Baggins. I come from under the hill.”


Under hill?” Smaug asked as he settled down in front of John or Bilbo.


Yes. I-I've been over hills my paths have led. To here! And through the air! I am he who walks unseen!


Impressive!” Sherlock cooed as he moved a little more closer. “What else do you claim to be?”


So, John or Bilbo explained all of these strange titles that Sherlock found amusing and yet fascinating. Sherlock's dream then shifted to another scene. This time John – Sorry...Bilbo – was sitting naked on green marble throne, covered jewel and a crown. He was holding a glittering white stone in his hand. Sherlock was sitting in front of him like a guard dog or a faithful servant.


This didn't seem like any sort of dream but...memories. But why was Sherlock getting these memories?


Bilbo rested the stone on the arm of the throne. He smiled at Sherlock. He sat forward and held his arms out as though asking for an embrace. Sherlock moved forwards and pressed his muzzle into Bilbo's belly.


Mmm, you smell beautiful, my love.


I smell of you, Smaug.” Bilbo replied.


Smaug? Why was Sherlock suddenly named Smaug?


I think we've mated more times than we've eaten.” Bilbo continued.


I never heard you complain.” Sherlock said.


A pink tinge came up Bilbo's – no, John's – cheeks. Despite this, he pressed a loving kiss on Sherlock's snout. “I love you, Smaug the Magnificent. My King under the Mountain.”


Sherlock purred. “And I you.”




Whilst Sherlock was dreaming, John was dreaming, too. But his wasn't of happier days. He was smaller than his usual height and was walking through a large forest. He was worried. Well, he seemed to be. He seemed to be looking for someone. Someone that held very dear to his heart.


“Smaug?!” he called. “Smaug!”


He looked round but couldn't see anything except for trees. John sighed and carried on walking.


“Smaug! Where are you, Smaug?” he sighed, starting to feel agitated. “Smaug, please stop this! This isn't funny, anymore. Smaug, please.”


Then John noticed something in the trees. Several trees had been ripped from their roots and fallen to earth, but something large and red was lying on top. John felt his heart beginning to race. It couldn'! He hurried forwards towards the clump of trees. His fears had been realised.


“No, no...Smaug!” he hurried over to the beast. Smaug was lying on his side. Smaug was a dragon but John didn't seem fazed by this. A large black arrow was sticking in the dragon's breast? Who had done this? John looked round to see where the usurper was but no one was around. The coward had run off! John turned back to Smaug. “Oh, Smaug. My love, you were still so young.” he brushed his hand along Smaug's scales. You shouldn't have been taken from me. This wasn't your doing. I hope that your murderer will suffer.” he leaned his head against Smaug's neck. “I hope we'll see each other again. In the afterlife or in the next life. I love you, my dear dragon.”


John then shot up awake. He felt something trickle down his cheeks. He reached up and found that they were tears. Why had he been crying over a dream and what had it been about? He looked over to where Sherlock was...or had been. Where was Sherlock? He looked round to find Sherlock sitting on the window sill, looking out the window.


“Sherlock?” he croaked. He hadn't realised that his voice was breaking. The consulting detective looked over at him, his expression showing concern.


“John? John, what is it?”


“I-I had this weird dream.”


Sherlock bounded over to him and he sat down, cross legged, in front of John. “What was it about? Tell me, John. 'Cause I had one, too.”


John blinked his eyes from tears. “You did?”


“Yes. But tell me, John, what happened?”


So, John recounted his dream to Sherlock, leaving nothing out. Sherlock stared at his lover. “I don't believe this. I...had a dream that I was this Smaug dragon and you were this small creature called Bilbo. We lived underneath this mountain and had this huge hoard of treasure. Gold, jewels, diamonds and rubies. These don't seem to be like dreams. These seem to be memories of some kind and...”


“And we're having these dreams?”


“Yes. It seems as though we're...remembering.”


“So, we're...what, reincarnations of this Smaug and Bilbo?”


“Yes.” Sherlock repeated. “It seems as though Fate wants us to be together. In one form or another.”


“But there's no such thing as Fate, right?”


“That's what some people might like to believe.”


“But you don't believe in Fate. Do you?”


“Could always start.” Sherlock said with a shrug. “Besides it's what will make us unbreakable. We are meant to be together.”


John smiled. He leaned forward and gave the detective a kiss on the lips. “Good for us, then.”




Years and years later, Sherlock and John died a happy couple, married with a son named Hamish Watson. John and Sherlock had both died of natural causes, but at different times. John was the first are to go but his last words to Sherlock were: “I love you, Sherlock. My dear Smaug. I hope we met again in another life.”


Now, the year was 2259 and Fate had been kind once again. Smaug – Sherlock and Bilbo – John had been reincarnated again into different humans. The problem this time around was that they lived so far apart from the other.


Khan Noonien Singh was a terrorist. Well, had been. He'd been on the hunt to recover the tools to find his crew and restart what they'd been doing. But Kirk and his wretched Starfleet had ruined his plans and had kept him locked in a spare pod for a few years. Soon, he'd been put on a trial period and under the watchful eye of Kirk and Spock. But during the time he had been asleep and woken by Marcus, Khan had been having dreams, visions of some kind of a dragon and a creature called a Hobbit and then of a man who looked just like him and another man who looked like the Hobbit creature. After many of these dreams, he realised that they were passed memories of an old life he'd lived - in fact he'd been living not only one past life but another! Two lives he'd lived and now a third – now he knew how a cat felt. And the other man, whom his other man, whom his other past selves had been in love with, had been called Bilbo in his first life and the second he'd been called John. If he, Khan, was a reincarnation of other beings then slowly...surely his Bilbo and John was out there. Had Fate decide to reincarnate him to, he wondered. He had to find him and he adopted his past love's name, John and went on the hunt to find his crew so that he could search for his lover that Fate had saved into a new life.


Back to the present, Khan was now working with Kirk and the others in Madagascar where a forest had been set a light and things had gotten out of control. With Khan's superhuman knowledge, they were able to get the citizens and tourists out of the way. Khan allowed Kirk to lead the others away from the fire and he went looking for any others that might be left behind. As he scanned the area, he heard a voice calling.


“Hello!” Help! I need help! Please.”


Khan couldn't see anything through the flames so he stormed over to where he'd heard the voice again.


“Help! Help! Someone! Anyone, please!”


Khan hurried on, quicker this time. He then saw movement and saw a man, smaller than he was and was wearing what looked like a dark green dressing gown and a white towel round his neck.


“Over here.” Khan called to the man. “Hurry up!”


He saw through the smoke, the man hurrying over. A tree caught a blaze and began to fall. Khan reached out and grabbed the man's hand, pulling him towards his chest. The tree fell with a crash, several feet behind him. Khan pulled the man after him as he walked back through the fire.


“Come along.” he said. “We will treat your wounds and we'll take you home safely.””


“Thank you.” the man behind him said, before coughing and spluttering.


Once they got clear of the forest fire, Khan turned to check on the man but stopped dead.


John? Bilbo?


Could it be?


The man had the same features of John and Bilbo but this version of the man had short reddish brown hair that looked untamed, blue eyes and light freckles on his cheeks. He was John and Bilbo's third life form.


“Um...” said the man. “Is something wrong?”


“N-no.” Khan said, coming out of his thoughts. “Everything's fine. Come. I'll treat you for anything.”




“There we go.” Khan mumbled as he finished tending the wounds on Arthur's hand. He'd got the name when they arrived on board the USS. Enterprise. McCoy had been grateful that Khan was helping but he couldn't help but wonder why Khan was spending so much time on the man. He'd checked for some inhale, concussion, broken bones. But all Khan had found on Arthur was a few minor injures on his knuckles.


Khan threw away the cotton wool he'd used and went over to check on Arthur's hands.


“Flex them for me.” he said, gently. Arthur did wincing a little from the stinging. “That's good. It could take at least a few days to a week to heal.”


“That's fantastic. Thank you so much.”


Khan gave a smile which Arthur returned. “I-um,” said Khan after a bit. “I assume you want to go home?”


Arthur blinked. He then looked round at the medical bay before turning back to Khan. “Actually, would it be okay if I stayed for a little while? I don't very much fancy going back home.”


Khan grinned. “Of course, you can.”


Arthur smiled.


“Come on, I'll show you around.” Khan said, helping Arthur down off the bed. He then turned to McCoy who was tending to another patient. “If Kirk wants me, McCoy, tell him, I'm busy showing around one of our survivors.”


McCoy nodded and the two left the medical bay. This was perfect, Khan thought. He might be able to get to know Arthur and maybe he could convince him to stay, to wait until he fell in love with Khan and realise who he truly was. It took at least an hour or more to show Arthur around the whole ship and soon ended up at Khan's quarters for a drink. He presented Arthur a cup of tea, which Arthur greatly accepted. They sat in front of the large window, looking out over the cities of Earth as the ship headed back to port of call.


“So,” Arthur said after swallowing a mouthful of tea. “What made you join the Enterprise?”


Khan sighed. He didn't want Arthur to know about his past – his past of being a terrorist but he'd done it all to find his crew and to find his love. To find his John, his Bilbo.


“Khan what's wrong?” Arthur asked.


Khan looked up at Arthur, who was looking at him, concerned. He had to tell him – even if it meant losing Arthur and making him genuinely afraid of Khan. “I wasn't originally part of the Starfleet. I wasn't their ally like I am, now. I was the enemy.”


“What do you mean?”


“I am Khan Noonien Singh. I was known terrorist. I injured and killed hundreds to get what I wanted. When I was made into a superhuman, me and my fellow crew mates, we were assigned to do tasks that others were not able to do. We were better.”


“At what?”






“But some people saw us as a threat and were frozen for many years, asleep as some people called it. After years of 'sleeping' and being frozen, I was awoken. I was given a task after task. My crew were still sleeping and I had no idea where they were. So, I searched and searched for them. In the meantime, I took on the name John Harrison to hide my true identity but I was soon caught. Kirk and his crew went after me after I killed Kirk's tutor – the man that he respected. I don't blame him for that. But the reason, I wanted my crew, my family and friends, was so I could go out there and...”


“And what? Where you looking for someone?”


Khan looked to Arthur. Yes, you, my dear Arthur. “Yes, a man that I held very dear to me. I took his name as a reminder of whom I was actually fighting for. I've never actually told anyone on the Enterprise about my true intentions – only you.”


“You've gone through a lot, haven't you?” Arthur asked, sympathetically.


“I have. Perhaps too much.” He knew that Arthur wouldn't get the full meaning of that statement but he would some day. “And what about you?” he asked, trying to bring light on a dark matter. “What is your story?”


“Well, my home was demolished to build a bypass, which is strange for this day and age. So, I had to move into this little flat. With the job I had, I managed to save enough money to make me go to Madagascar. But the enjoyment was short lived as you already know.”


“So, you've had bad luck, too?”


“Yeah, that's one way of putting it. But since I moved out I...I hadn't been getting much sleep.”


“Why is that?””


“I'm not sure. I think it was because of these dreams I had.”


Khan stared at Arthur. Could it be that Arthur had had dreams about his past lives? Did he remember? Or had he simply jut brushed them aside? “What were these dreams? Were they nightmares?”


“I don't know what they were. It scared me a bit. But I've stopped having them, now. Thank god.”


“Well, at least you can get plenty of rest then. You'll need it after the day you've had.”


Arthur smiled and sipped his tea again. “You're not going to send me home, are you?”


Khan blinked. “You do not wish to return home?”


Arthur shook his head. “Nah, I don't really enjoy it...or my job. I only took the job because it paid well.”


Khan smiled. “Well, I'm sure that Captain Kirk won't mind another member on the team. You will most likely be under someone else's watch.”


“Why not yours? You're the only one I know.”


“I've been put under a trial period. So, I really don't think the courts or anyone else on board this vessel would approve.”


“But I can be under your watch, when you're off, right? How long until you're free?”


“Three months.”


“Oh.” Arthur said, sinking a little in his seat.


“But don't worry.” Khan reassured. “They'll take good care of you on this ship. Believe me, they always look out for one another.”


If you're sure.”






Khan had been right. The Enterprise crew had all looked after Arthur along with Khan. Arthur sometimes helped out Scotty in the engineering room when he needed an extra, pair of hands. But most of the time, Arthur was in the medical bay. After being with Starship Enterprise for a month, Kirk, Spock Uhura and Sulu had decided in a group meeting that Arthur could be under Khan's wig. So, the two were allowed to work together even with Khan on probation. Khan and Arthur seemed to enjoy each other's company and Khan found it as a step closer to getting Arthur to remember and loving him. But Khan's intentions came sooner than expected.


One night after arriving on a planet and saving the population from a herd of monsters looked to be a cross breed of a bear and a deformed dinosaur, Arthur was lying in his bed, asleep. He was having a dream. It seemed very much like the ones he used to have before when he lived on Earth. He dreamt that he was flying through the sky on the back of a large red dragon. He could feel the wind rushing in his ears, as they soared together over the tree tops, landscapes and mountains. Arthur smiled, he looked down at the dragon he was riding. He brushed his hand a few times over the red scales.


How long until you think we've reached the Shire?” he asked.


In a few hours, my love.” the dragon said. “Hopefully before the setting of the sun.”


Good.” Arthur called back. “Maybe we should stay overnight and leave in the mourn. Then you can rest, Smaug.


He was having those dreams again.


I'm a dragon, my dearest Bilbo. I have no need of rest. I had a plenty of sleep at least four years ago.


“Yes.” Arthur said, sarcastically. “For at least sixty years.”


The dragon, Smaug, laughed and beat his wings once, twice and they picked up speed, heading towards the Shire. Now, the dream shifted like it had done before. But this time, it seemed to be in a different year, a different time. He was looking up towards a tall building. He was holding a phone to his ear and looking up at a figure on the roof. The man looked like Khan except the fact that his hair was all of curls and wild. The Khan look-a-like was on the phone and he spoke into it, his hand spoke into it, his hand stretching out.


Don't move.” he said, his voice coming from the speaker of Arthur's phone. “Keep your eyes fixed on me and only me.


Arthur did. Why was he up there? What game was he playing?


Good. John, listen to me. Moriarty is dead. He shot himself before I could talk him out of it. Of this whole mess.”


But,” said Arthur. “We can pull through. You can prove to the world that you're not a fake. Please Sherlock.


From a distance, Arthur could see the man named Sherlock shaking his head. “I'm afraid not, John. But please you've got to remember that I love you. Always will. Don't ever forget about me.”


Sherlock, please. This is not a game.”


I never said it was. This is real, John. Please remember me. I love you, John Watson. Thank you for...for keeping me...keeping me right.” and Sherlock hung up.


Sherlock? Sher...Sherlock!


Sherlock threw the phone own, spread his arms out and jumped from the building's edge.


SHERLOOOOOCK!” Arthur yelled.


The dream shifted again to another point in that era. This time, Arthur was standing in a living room of a familiar looking flat, staring at...Sherlock. How? It could not be possible? The man had jumped from a tall building. How had he survived the fall?


How? How is this possible? How...?” Arthur stammered.


“It's a long story, John.” Sherlock said, as he moved closer to Arthur.


How?”Arthur squeaked. “How the bloody hell did you survive a fall like that?


Like I said, it's a long story.” Sherlock repeated, with a smile.


“Arthur?” a voice was calling to him from a distance. “Arthur, wake up!Arthur, you'll miss breakfast. Arthur?”


Arthur opened his eyes to see Khan, sitting beside and hovering over him. “K-Khan?”


“Hello.” Khan mumbled. “Are you okay? You were tossing a little your sleep.”




Khan blinked. “Did you have those dreams again?”


“Yeah. They...the first dream wasn't as bad as the second.”


“What happened?” Khan asked, placing a hand on Arthur's shoulder.


“ the first dream, I was flying on top of this dragon. We were going to this placed called the Shire. Then the dream changed to a different time period.”


“What do you mean?”




A few days later...


Khan was in the medial bay, looking into a small pet bed full of Tribbles, when Arthur came into the room. Khan looked up and smiled at him.


“Arthur, is everything good?”


“That depends.” Arthur said, coming to a stop in front of Khan.


Khan got to his feet and faced Arthur. “On what?”


Arthur moved closer to Khan, grabbed him by his black shirt and pulled him down into a kiss. Khan made a noise of surprise but accepted the kiss. His arms moved around Arthur's body, pulling him close to his body. Reluctantly, they drew apart as the damned need for air kicked in. Then Arthur spoke.


“When were you going to tell me that we were lovers in two past lives?”


“The moment you remembered.” Khan said, simply. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you but I didn't want to scare you.”


“Not if it meant us being together.” Arthur scolded before smiling. “And...good at everything, eh?”


Khan smiled and kissed Arthur again before an alarm went off in the ship. The two broke apart, grabbed the other's hand and hurried off to see what the emergency was.


Oh, and just so you know, they lived happily ever after.


Chapter Text

Captivated – Lady Gaga:


One look and I'm done,

once glance from your eyes and I'm captivated

the taste of your skin

the warmth of your hungry lips has,

me so taken and I,

love the way you can make me dance

from miles away




Tim finished off writing the last sentence of his essay and put his pen down. He flexed his fingers from writing so much. He rubbed his eyes and heard a knock on the door. Knowing who it was, Tim got to his feet and went to open the door. And there behind the door was his boyfriend, Stephen. Well, his secret boyfriend.


“Hey, Stephen.” Tim said, allowing him inside room.


“Thank goodness, I got here.” Stephen said, putting his things by the foot of Tim's bed.


“That bad of a day, huh?”


“A little bit, but's better now that I'm here with you.”


Tim smiled. He leaned in and placed a kiss on Stephen's lips of which Stephen returned eagerly. Tim's hands rested on Stephen's hips pulling him closer. Stephen hummed a laugh against Tim's lips.


“Somebody's eager.” he chuckled against Tim's lips.


“You don't know how much I wanted this.” Tim growled.


“I think I can imagine.”


Tim dove back in for a kiss. He pulled Stephen over to the bed and pushed him onto it, breaking the kiss. They kicked off their shoes and socks. Tim then joined Stephen on the bed and began to kiss his beautiful neck. A gasp escaped the bespectacled boy's lips as he felt Tim nibble against his neck. His hips grinded making the male above him groan. As a small payback, Tim bit Stephen into his skin making him yelp!


“Ah! Tim, that was a little uncalled for.”


“A little? So, does that mean that you deserve it?”


“Shut up, will you?”


Tim chuckled and then he moved on down towards Stephen's uniform. He slipped off the jacket, then the jumper and slid off the tie. Tim leaned in and nibbled along the collarbone. As he worked his teeth, he worked on the buttons of his white shirt. Stephen helped slide off his shirt before settling on the bed again and watched as Tim began to brush his lips from the collarbone to his chest. His teeth then latched on to a nipple and Tim lightly pulled on it.


“Ah!Tim, quit teasing me.” Stephen cried.


The said male let go and looked up at his blushing boyfriend. “You want me to stop?”


“Stop the 'teasing' and just get on with it.”


“Stephen. If I don't heighten your please and prepare you, it will hurt. This is our first time together and we need it to be good.”


“I know, Tim, but I want this so bad.” he groaned as he ran his fingers through Tim's hair.


“I know.” Tim whispered before pressing a kiss on Stephen's chest. The said male purred in his throat which made a shiver run down Tim's spine. He leaned back in and latched on Stephen's nipple and began to bite and nibble around it as his hands worked their way to Stephen's pants. They slowly undid the belt, the button and unzipped the fly. Stephen let out a sigh of relief as some of the pressure on his crotch was released. Tim then moved lower, pressing small butterfly kisses down Stephen's torso as his fingers dug into the waist band of the pants and underwear and pulled them down. They were soon left on the floor – somewhere – Tim didn't know as he was too busy staring at Stephen's body. His pale skin seemed to glow as Stephen seemed to get more aroused by the minute.


“Tim, you okay?”


Tim blinked and smiled up at Stephen. “I'm good. Don't worry.”


Stephen chuckled. He sat up and went for Tim's jumper, pulling it off. “Well, I think someone is a little overdressed.”


Tim sniggered and allowed Stephen to take his clothes off for him. As soon as Tim was as naked as newborn baby, Stephen pulled him down on top of him, blanketing his body over Stephen's. He pulled Tim's head down so that their lips were locked again. Their hands wandered over each other's skin, tracing paths and patterns like constellations. Tim's hands – located on Stephen's hips – brushed against the hipbones. He felt his lover's fingers grasp his arse cheeks and began to squeeze and mold them, gently. Tim grasped into Stephen's mouth as he felt his boyfriend's finger slip between his cheeks and circle around the ring of muscle that pleaded to be opened up. Tim pulled back from their kiss and rested his forehead against Stephen's shoulder as his body shook from the pleasure and ministrations that Stephen was giving him.




“There's no such thing.” Stephen panted.


“Steve,” Tim panted. “Now is not the time to bring up the debate of religion. You know what I mean.”


Even though Tim couldn't see his face, he knew that Stephen was grinning. He buried his face into Stephen's neck as the ring of muscle gave way and Stephen's fingers slipped a little way in. The movement sent a throbbing sensation to his hard cock that wept pre-cum against Stephen's thigh.


“I think,” the bespectacled male said, slipping his finger out of Tim, leaving him empty without Stephen's fingers in him. “we may need something slick to help you out.”


Tim looked up and saw that Stephen was reaching in between them. Tim grasped as he felt his and Stephen's cocks rub together. They could feel their pre-cum drip from the tips to Stephen's fingers.


“This feels so good.” Tim moaned.


“I hope so.”


Stephen then withdrew his fingers from their cocks and then returned to Tim's behind. A shuddering moan as he felt Stephen move his fingers inside. Slowly inch by inch, Stephen moved his fingers in and out of him. Tim's moans were like music to Stephen's ears – better than Mozart or Wagner's compositions.


“S-S-Stephen! Please.”


“Please what?”


“Please – please, fuck already.”


Stephen laughed. “Love it when you swear. As you wish though.”


He withdrew his fingers, reached between them to slick his own cock up and then positioned himself. Easing in and slow, he pushed himself inside of Tim making the latter give out a guttural moan. Tim felt his hips move of their own accord, as though his own body was working against him to have Stephen's deep inside his body. Tim wasn't going to disagree. Once he felt that Stephen was fully inside him, Tim moved himself so that he was pumping himself on Stephen's cock. Stephen groaned as he felt Tim move and squeeze around his member. Tim's pace slowly picked up and he wrapped his arms around Stephen's shoulders. Stephen settled his hands on Tim's hips, moving them from a shaky pace to a steady one. Stephen pushed up to meet with Tim's thrusts and soon they were rocking against the other. The bed creaked a little as they moved together. Stephen thrusted further into Tim's hole, his tip barely brushing against Tim's prostate. Tim gasped.


“D-do that again!” he panted.


So he did and Tim cried out as his lover's cock hit his prostate. Repeatedly, Stephen made sure that this thrusts were deep and able to hit that spot that made Tim sing. After a few more thrusts, Tim covered his mouth as he cried out from his orgasm. Stephen groaned and soon released himself inside of Tim. They stayed like that, slowly coming down from Cloud Nine. Tim moved his lips to Stephen's ear and panted: “I love you, Stephen Hawking.”


“And I love you, Tim Canterbury.”


Chapter Text

Inside Out – Imelda May:


Mainly Smaugbo but with other Freebatch pairings.


Love, it's so crazy

make my heart go

oops-a-daisy, make my blood flow,

not so lazy

'cause I love ya inside out

time, is a wasting while you hold out

so frustratin' 'cause you know that,

you're looking amazing and I love ya, inside out




Hogwarts was having a Christmas Ball.


It had been the idea of a few girls from Hufflepuff and Slytherin. They thought it would be best to have it near the Christmas period and design the hall like they had done when Hogwarts had hosted the Triwizard Tournament for the Yule Ball. But this time round, students from all years were allowed to attend. The idea had been approved of by the headmistress, Professor McGonagall, who thought it was best as it would give the students a chance to relax after studying.


Bilbo Baggins looked over to a table in the corner of the library to the gaggle of girls who were talking animatedly yet quietly on the opposite table. Busy organising the Christmas Ball by the looks of it. He sighed and continued with his Charms homework. He flipped open a page of the text book he was reading called 'Charms Constructions and How to Use Them', when suddenly one of the empty chars was pulled back and his Slytherin boyfriend, Smaug Drake, sat down beside him. He leaned forwards and grabbed Bilbo by the waist, pulling close to his chest. Bilbo sighed.


“Smaug,” he groaned. “Please, I need to finish this.”


“You're no fun, at all.” Smaug purred. “Why not take a little break? And you can come and relax in my dorm room.”


“You're still horny?” Bilbo whispered. “After this morning, in the Prefect's Bathroom?”


“What can I say? I have the libido of a dragon.”


Bilbo snorted, but allowed Smaug to trail kisses along his cheek and neck. He shuffled a little in his seat and he continued with his Charms essay. As he began writing his second page, a 'thwack!' rang through the room the same time as a ruler came down on the table making everyone jump and Smaug and Bilbo jump apart. Madam Pince, the nutcase librarian, was standing over them, a look of rage on her face. Words failed her as she scowled at them.


“S-sorry, Madam Pince.” Smaug said, letting go of Bilbo. “Won't happen again.”


Madam Pince growled in her throat before turning away and walking back into the depths of her precious library. Bilbo sighed before looking at his disgruntled boyfriend.


“I did warn you.” Bilbo scolded although the grin on his face betrayed him. Smaug huffed and slunk into his chair. Bilbo shook his head and pressed a kiss to Smaug's patterned red markings around his golden eyes. Ever since Bilbo had met Smaug, he had been intrigued by those features on his face and then during their fourth year together, they'd started dating and Bilbo often asked what the markings around his eyes meant. But Smaug said he would learn in time as he say, otherwise he would be in trouble. So, Bilbo continued to wonder and wait for his explanation. But Bilbo's identity was already known by nearly everyone in the school. Bilbo was a Hobbit, a once rare breed in the wizarding world. Years and years ago, more Hobbits were appearing and were not allowed to learn magic even thought they were part fairy but soon the case was brought forward and won. So, several years ago, Hobbits were allowed to attend school to learn.


“Will you two stop eye-fucking each other?” snarled a voice.


Smaug and Bilbo looked round to see Hector Dixon and his boyfriend, Peter Guillam, walking over to them. Smaug growled.


“Why don't you just shove off already?”


Hector stuck out his tongue and sat down in front of them, Peter beside him.


“You two going to the Christmas Ball?” Peter asked.


“We were thinking about it.” Bilbo “You two?”


“Definitely.” smiled Peter.


Hector blanched. “Seriously? You want to go to a stuffy old ball and dance all night!”


“No, but they'll be plenty of time for us to have some 'alone time'.”


Hector's expression changed to a look of interest which Bilbo rolled his eyes at.


“I hear that Arthur's beau, Khan Singh, is returning to Hogwarts.” Smaug said.


“'Beau'?” Hector scoffed. “Fuck sake, Smaug, get with the times.”


A low growl escaped Smaug's lips at which Hector immediately back off. Khan Noonien Singh was a student from Durmstrang, who wanted a recent position at the Ministry of Magic as he wanted to be near Arthur and Khan's last year at Durmstrang was nearing. The two had met during one of the Hogsmeade trips and Arthur had bumped into him, spilling his fire whisky, of which Khan had cleaned up with a quick spell and soon the two got talking over drinks, leaving Bilbo and his friends watching them from a corner of the Three Broomsticks.


“Yeah,” said Peter. “I heard that, too, but Arthur's the one that knows more than us about Khan coming here. It's better to ask him.”


“Ask me what?” said a voice.


The four boys looked round to see the said male, Arthur Dent, standing before them.


“Just wondering when you'll be getting lover boy to come and see you.” said Hector. Typical! Peter slapped him upside the head, making the blonde yelp.


Arthur sighed. He sat down next to Smaug. “Well, Khan did sent me a letter saying he would try and visit me during the Christmas period at Hogsmeade but now that there's this Christmas Ball, I sent him a letter last week, telling him to come along.”


“I'm sure he'll make it, Arthur.” said Bilbo, reassuringly.




The day of the Hogwarts Christmas Ball arrived! Most of the Hogwarts students were gathered in the Great Hall, dressed in their finest dresses and dress robes. Some were coming in from the front hall. The four long House Tables had been removed to be replaced with at least forty circular tables that could seat fourteen or fifteen people. They were decorated with silver table cloths and golden wreaths with red holly berries. Three silver candles were placed in the middle of the wreath and the chairs were finished off with a silver ribbon tied round the back. In a corner of the room, Bilbo was sitting with Smaug, Peter, Hector and Arthur, along with their other friends, Sherlock, and his boyfriend, John and Oliver and his boyfriend, Julian. Bilbo was keeping a tight hold on Smaug's hand as the shiny objects around seemed to close in. Smaug had what the muggles called 'Magpie Syndrome' – at least that's what Julian had said it was called, being muggle-born himself. Smaug liked shiny things – anything blingy, like gold or silver trinkets, jewellery, diamonds gems etc. anything like that Smaug would take and he was trying to stop himself as he'd nearly gotten into trouble. His parents had never allowed him into Gringotts when getting his money.


The Hobbit leaned in and whispered. “It's okay, my dear Smaug. Jut focus on me for the night.”


Smaug smiled down at his lover before kissing him on the lips.


“So, Arthur,” Oliver spoke up. “Any news on Khan?”


Arthur shook his head. “No, I don't think so. I think I'm jut going to be spending this Christmas Ball alone.”


“Oh, I wouldn't say that!” Sherlock said, taking a sip from his Butterbeer.


“Sherlock.” John growled.




“You really have to got work on your timing.”


“But he's not going to spend it alone.” said Sherlock.


“What makes you say that?” Julian asked.


Sherlock nodded to the doors of the Great Hall and everyone see a snow-covered, fur clad Khan walking through the front doors, brushing the snow from his dark hair.


“Khan?” Arthur gasped.


As though he was able to hear Arthur's quiet gasp, Khan looked round in the Great Hall and caught sight of Arthur. A smile came up on Khan's lips. Arthur sprung from his seat and hurried over to greet his lover. Bilbo grinned, happy for his friend.


“How did you know, Sherlock?” Smaug asked.


Sherlock turned to Smaug and smiled. “We may have kept in touch.” he said, simply.


Bilbo sensed that it was something more than that but he decided not to question it.


As the night went on and the large group of friends chatted and Khan got to know everyone, Smaug turned to Bilbo with a smile on his face.


“Bilbo, will you come with me?” he asked. “There's something I must show and tell you.”


“Oh.” said Bilbo, surprised. “Okay.”


Hand in hand, they left the Great Hall, the dance music and chatter getting quieter with each stop. They walked out of the front doors, down the stone steps and across the grounds to the forest.


“Smaug, why are we heading in here for?”


“Because this must be kept a secret from everyone. This is something that only we must know. Except perhaps Sherlock. I think on some level he already knows.”


“If you're sure, Smaug.”


“Never been more sure.” Smaug said.


Deeper into the forest, they went, until they came to a clearing, Smaug let go of Bilbo's hand and walked into the middle. Bilbo stayed where he was – at the side lines.


“So, what is it you to tell me...or show me?”


Smaug turned to Bilbo. “Remember the many times you saw my markings and golden eyes? You always asked me but I kept denying you the truth. And that was because I couldn't let anyone overhearing our conversation but, here, we won't be.”


So, that's why! Bilbo thought.


“So, listen to me, my darling Hobbit. Please don't hate me or run away or be frightened...because I'm...I'm really dreading that fact that you will.”


“I promise you Smaug I won't.” Bilbo said.


Smaug was quiet for a few moments then...he began to change. The markings around his eyes began to spread. All along his skin, his chest, arms and legs. Something flickered from behind Smaug, something long and spiky. Then his hands and feet began to grow thick and the nails grew into talons. His shoes ripped apart. His clothes tore as his body grew. Bilbo stumbled back a little as an enormous dragon stood in front of him, filling up the clearing. Smaug had changed into a dragon. No, not just a dragon. A fire drake. Smaug was an animagus. So, this was the big secret hat Smaug had kept from him.


“So, you're animagus, huh?”


The dragon rumbled as though he was saying 'yes'. Bilbo smiled.


“This is...this...oh, my gods. I don't know what to say.”


The dragon made a noise as though it was laughing.


“Smaug, can you change back? It's hard to talk to you in that form.”


Smaug growled in reply and soon Smaug was back in his human form, his clothes, miraculously back on, as though they'd never ripped. Bilbo moved towards Smaug as the animagus came to meet him, halfway.


“Well, you weren't kidding about the secret being big.”


“I wasn't.” Smaug said, shaking his head.


“How long have you been on animagus?”


“Since I was five.” Smaug replied. “My parents would take me to the Ministry to learn about the ability.”


“That's...very young.”


“It is. I was. It's a tradition that we, Drakes, must learn. You should have seen me as a little baby dragon.”


Bilbo mentally awed at the thought of a young drakeling flying around his home, breathing fire on the neighbour's hedges. “I bet you looked cute. But aren't you registered?”


“I am, yes, but it's something I brag about to my fellow students. Especially the fact that I can change into a dragon. A creature that most people don't like to come across. Also I'd be sick of the constant changes that the students here might ask again and again. Besides you know what fire drakes are famous for?”


Bilbo's eyes widened. “Their love of gold!”


Smaug nodded. “Exactly. These markings don't help either. I used to tell people that it's a weird birth mark.”


“And your eyes?


“I told people they were muggle contacts...lenses, I think they're called.” Smaug sighed. “I'm sorry, Bilbo, that I kept this from you. I don't know what you think of me.”


“Smaug, please stop demeaning yourself. I don't care what you are. I...I...I love you for who you are.”


Smaug blinked. “You love me?”


Bilbo felt his cheeks go warm as he nodded. Smaug grinned like a Chershire cat, he leaned in towards the Hobbit and kissed him on the lips. Soon, Smaug drew back, leaving Bilbo feeling weak at the knees.


“That's good to know.” Smaug purred. “I love you, too, Bilbo.”


Bilbo smiled.


Chapter Text

Dial my number now

weaving it threw the wire

switch me on

turn me up

don't want it Baudelaire, just glitter lust

switch me on

turn me up

I wanna touch you, you're just made for love




Julian entered his home. After working a long day at the office and 'accidentally' hacking into his boss' email account – without him knowing who – he was ready for a good, relaxing day at home. He dumped his coat and bag on one of his armchairs and went into the kitchen. He grabbed a set of keys with only one keyring on and headed into the living room again. He then came to a door that was hidden behind a curtain. He pulled it aside, unlocked the door, switched the light on and proceeded down the stairs to the basement. He pulled a string and the room was then bathed in light. Julian looked round and smiled as he saw the white and blue coffin like incubator that was propped against the wall. He walked over to it and pressed in the code to open it. The pressure gauge hissed and the door clicked open. He pulled open the door, letting out a large cloud of steam. Julian coughed as he began to swipe the smoke screen away. He smiled again as the smoke revealed what was in the coffin like incubator.


“Evening, Oliver.”


Oliver twitched a little as though he could feel a sneeze coming on. He then blinked a little and then opened his eyes to reveal cobalt blue eyes. When he noticed Julian, smiling at him, he sighed.


“Julian, do you have any idea how tedious it is in here?”


“How else am I gonna charge you up?”


“I don't need charging up!” Oliver said as he climbed out of the incubator.


“You certainly needed it after last night.”


Oliver went silent at this. Then... “Fair enough.”


Julian chuckled. Oliver looked at him for a while, then moved in to kiss the white blonde on the lips. Julian moaned in appreciation. When he drew back, he stared into his lover's eyes.


“Shall we take this to the bed?”


Oliver smiled. “I think we should.” he replied.


A smirk crept up on Julian's face, as they walked away from the incubator to the bed that lay waiting for them. All the covers were straightened and the pillows were puffed up, as though they'd never been dishevelled from the night before. Luckily, Julian had had enough time before heading to work. Thank god, he was off for the three days! Oliver sat down on the bed, Julian joining him. Well, actually, Julian straddled his legs. The white blonde smirked down at him.


“Well,” he growled – although it was likely to be a purr. “I think you gave me plenty enough pleasure from last night. So, why don't I think about you for the time being, hmmm?”


Oliver's eyes widened and he allowed his human lover to push him to the bed. That's right, I said 'human'. You see, Oliver isn't human. He was part of an alien race, but what the name of the race of alien were called, Julian never bothered to ask. For Oliver to talk about his fellow kind was painful for him to do so. As his creator had left him when refusing to take part in a horrible scheme. Julian had found Oliver in a little town called Newton Haven and had come across an abandoned warehouse to find strange equipment, all glowing white blue, like an icy colour. After looking round, his IT senses and brain screamed at him to pack it all up and keep it to try it all out, he found Oliver lying in a corner with the top part of his head missing as though smashed like glass. Blue liquid was dried on the floor and seemed to come from his head, like blood. It had slightly unnerved Julian but he immediately took pity on the robot or machine and took him home with the incubator and a box of spare parts and tools. And let's just say Oliver was very grateful.


Julian leaned down and nibbled along the soft skin of his robotic lover. A shuddering moan left his lips and Oliver collapsed on the bed, dragging down with him. The ex-Wiki leaks founder shifted himself on top of Oliver so that they were comfortable in the new position. He moved his hands up to the suit jacket that Oliver loved to wear and eased it off his shoulders. The man beneath him shifted to help him with his jacket. It was thrown away somewhere and soon Oliver's clothes joined in on the floor. Blue met grey blue. Julian knew that Oliver could see the hunger in his eyes. He grinned.


“Mine.” he said. He then leaned down and captured Oliver into a passionate kiss. He felt his lover whimper into his mouth. The robotic life form bucked his hips up so that Julian could feel the gradually hardening member that rested against the own. A groan rumbled in Julian's throat. He drew back and then settled his lips on one of the Oliver's nipples whilst his thumb went for the other. A series of whimpers and moans could be heard above Julian as he worked his magic. His teeth nibbled against the hard bud that lay between his teeth. His tongue circled around the bud, three times before he went back to nibbling it.


“Ah! J-Jul-Julian!” Oliver whimpered. Julian looked up into Oliver's face, his mouth still on Oliver's chest and what he saw made his dick throb in his pants. The alien's eyes were dilated and had darkened in colour. His cheeks were pink. Julian pulled away.


“You okay, Ollie?” he asked, placing a hand to Oliver's skin.


“Y-ye-y-ye.” the alien stammered before giving up and nodding that he was okay.


“If you're sure.” Julian said, before returning to the task at hand. His lips soon returned to Oliver's chest but didn't rest there long as he then trailed kisses along his abdomen and hovered above his crotch, seeing the beautiful organ that he longed to suckle on.


“Go on, Jules.” Oliver purred. “I know you want to.”


Julian smirked. Oliver knew he hated it when people called him 'Jules' – felt slightly feminine. He grabbed Oliver's hips and turned him over. “Oh, I don't think so.” he leaned in towards Oliver's ears. “You know I hate that nickname and for that I'm gonna punish you for a little bit.”


A small chuckled left Julian as he saw Oliver's eyes widen. Julian then focused his attention on Oliver's back. He left bite marks on Oliver's back along the spine but not deep enough to make him bleed. He then came to the delicious rump, he knew too well. He took both of his hands and grasped at the firm yet smooth arse cheeks. He spread them, groaning when we saw the ring of muscle that screamed to be teased. He slowly leaned in and gave a gentle prod to the puckered hole with his tongue. Oliver gasped. Julian grinned and poked the hole with his tongue again. With each prod of his tongue, Oliver cried out from the pleasure, it was beautiful. A piece of beautiful machinery, Julian thought. Deciding that he would move on to the next stage, he moved in, moving his tongue in circles around the muscle. A sound of muffled whimpers came again as Oliver groaned into one of the pillows and his hips moved upwards meeting Julian's tongue. Julian moaned and one of his hands squeezed Oliver's cheek before giving it a rough slap.


“Julian!” moaned Oliver.


The said male didn't reply instead he moved his tongue, in faster circles, making Oliver sing. He soon felt the ring of muscle giving way and he dove his tongue inside and wiggled his way to open Oliver up even more. Julian then drew back and traced a finger tip around the tip around the moist hole. He took a peek underneath Oliver to see his lover's cock pressed against the bed and his body, oozing out pre-come onto the sheets. One of Julian's hands palmed against his own crotch as he watched the weeping organ.


“J-Julian.” Oliver moaned against the pillows. “Please touch yourself. Forget the sodding torture!”


Julian smiled. Always though of others, did Oliver, he thought. Julian quickly shed himself of his clothes and then lay down on top of the dark blonde, chest to back. He felt his cock press into the cleft of Oliver's arse and he grinned his hips against the delicious arse. He then leaned his head close and pressed a kiss to Oliver's forehead. A hand slid down the latter's body and he gripped the hard cock. Slowly, he began to stroke the member, feeling Oliver's essence slicked his fingers like lube. Oliver's pre-cum was better than lube, he always thought, and much more yummy.


Julian the moved hips faster against Oliver, making the bed creak. With each thrust and moan, the pace quickened, until the two were rutting against each other like animals. Oliver was the first to come with the help of Julian's fingers and then Julian followed, coming on Oliver's back. The former hacker collapsed on top of his lover, their heavy breathing was the only thing that could be heard in the basement.


“ was that that for you?” Oliver panted.


Julian smiled and pressed a kiss to the male alien's shoulder. “Amazing as always, my dear machine. Let's rest, now.”


Chapter Text

Defying Gravity – Indina Menzel/Wicked (OST):



I hope you're happy

I hope you're happy, now!

I hope you're happy how you hurt your cause forever

I hope you think you're clever

I hope you're happy

I hope you're happy, too

I hope you're proud how you would grovel in submission

to feed your own ambition




Oliver stood in the corner, watching Julian furiously typing on his laptop. Something had happened. In Iraq, a group of unarmed journalists, a pedestrian and his family had been involved in an air-strike, getting caught in the blast and then a source had leaked documents of the war logs. The video and documents were going to make it public. Oliver knew there was a slight chance of the American Government seeing it. The video would be seen by everyone in the world and people would want answers. Julian and Daniel had argued over the fact that Julian could not release the documents of the war logs and the names of those involved in the air-strike but Julian was too stubborn to realise. Oliver couldn't blame him as the people who were killed deserved justice but if they did then the shooters would be targeted and blood would be spilled. Julian would have blood on his hands and get into serious trouble. Oliver didn't want to see his lover taken away from him. He moved over to where Julian was sitting.


“So, what's going on, now?” Oliver asked.


Julian was silent for a minute before answering. “It'll be twenty-four hours or so until publication.” he said. “Until then we move again.”


“Again, where to now?”


“Not sure but Michael's coming by with the plane tickets. But we'll be safe, don't worry.”


Oliver's eyes narrowed at his lover. “No.” he said.


Julian froze and looked up at Oliver. “What?”


“No, we won't.” Oliver hissed. “We won't be until this whole thing is over. Until it's swept under the carpet. For some people it won't be forgotten but for some people it will. Julian, we will never be safe, not until they have us shut down and backed up into a corner.”


“Those bastards cannot get away with this, Oliver. You know that these people need to see what kind of animals these people are.”


“Julian, they don't care! They just want to be kept safe. It isn't a lynch mob. Julian, I know you want the truth out there but sometimes the truth can hurt. Just don't release the names, just say that we lost them or the names were a misconception. Something that will make this okay. Go for the right way.”


“This is the right way.” Julian snarled.


“No, it's not!” Oliver shouted. “This,” the pointed to the laptop. “has never ever been the right way. You are hurting people and the more this goes on, the more cuts and bruises will appear. Julian, just stop this now. Please.”


Julian closed the laptop and moved towards Oliver. “Why is it that you and all the others cannot see--.”


“That what they did was wrong? That they tore apart families? I know that, Julian, I can see that. But what you can't see is that if you release those names then more deaths will happen. There has been more deaths in the world and we don't need anymore because of some stupid website or some power hungry tyrant in the East or in the States. People will not label you as a hero or vigilante, they'll label you as an executioner – a cold blooded murderer.” Oliver sighed. “So, what will it be, Julian?”


The white blonde stared at Oliver for what felt like the longest moment ever. Oliver was scared of what he would say next because it would decide on their future together. Finally, Julian's answer was clear. He simply walked back to the laptop but he didn't open it. He seemed defeated. A tear ran down Oliver's cheek. Julian had made his decision. So, Oliver would make his. Oliver walked over and slipped something off. He placed the gold ring on top of the closed laptop lid. And without another word, he left the safe house.


A sob escaped his trembling lips.





Something has changed within me,

something is not the same

I'm through with playing

by the rules of someone else's game




Khan didn't know when they started but he knew it happened when he'd been 'sleeping'. The dreams. They had been of a man – a small man with long ragged brown hair, pointed ears, wearing no shoes and a small patch of hair on his bare feet – and a large red dragon. Another set of dreams was of a man that looked like him but his hair was wild and curly. The second man looked a lot like the brown haired man but his hair was shorter and a dirty blonde colour and he was taller. Khan soon learned that the first pair he'd dreamed about, was a Hobbit called Bilbo and the dragon was named Smaug. The second pair was a detective named Sherlock Holmes and an ex-army doctor made partner-in-crime, John Watson. From the dreams, he'd had received flashes and pieces of their lives – of the times, they met, fell in love and spend their lives of adventure, danger and of heartbreak. But what Khan had learned from these dreams of the dragon and the Hobbit and they believed that they were reincarnations of Smaug and Bilbo and the dreams proved it. It helped make their dreams stronger.


Then Khan had woken up to find that the world had changed only a little since he'd last seen it. He hadn't been awake long when he'd been briefed on what was going on in the world and what the year was. He'd also been given an assignment by Captain Alexander Marcus. But there was one thing that Khan had on his mind.


“Where's my crew?” he asked Marcus.


“They're safe.” Marcus had said. “But we need you to do this job before we assign your crew to you.”


Khan didn't like the answer he was given. He knew that there was something more going on and he didn't want himself or his crew being a part of it. Besides he wanted to look for something else. For weeks, Khan had the dreams again; some were of what he'd dreamed of before and some were new. But he had come to the conclusion that they weren't dreams, they were visions – memories of the lives of the three people and a dragon. Then he'd come to the biggest conclusion of all – that he was the third reincarnation of Sherlock Holmes and Smaug the dragon. So, that meant that Bilbo or John's reincarnation was out there.


But where?


Well, that was something that he had to think about for now he had to do what Marcus had told him. But in the mean time, he would finish his assignment, find and bring back his crew and go out and travel to different planets, galaxies, solar systems – even universes to find him. He had to find his soulmate and be with him forever. It was going to take years – possibly – to find him. Khan didn't care, he and his crew had long lives as they practically immortal. He would die trying to find his lover, his soulmate.


Khan would never give up.





So if you care to find me,

look to the western skies

as someone told me lately,

everyone deserves a chance to fly”

and if I'm flying solo, at least I'm flying free

to those who ground me, take a message back from me

tell them how I am defying gravity




Bilbo entered the underground city of Erebor through the passage where Balin had led him. Its walls were of a dark green marble and several torches lit the way as though in welcome. He reached the end of the tunnel and came into a large grand hall. Bilbo gaped. When the dwarves had been saying about the people of Erebor finding gold upon gold, they had not been joking, as it filled up the entire hall. How was he supposed to find the Arkenstone in all of this gold? And where was Smaug? Slowly, Bilbo slipped quietly inside. It wasn't easy to keep quiet as with each step there was a clink of gold but he carried on, he needed to find the Arkenstone before it was too late. After finding a few false alarms, Bilbo was ready to give up. He would never be able to find the stone in this place. He was about to leave when he heard movement. Quickly, he reached in his pocket and pulled on the ring. Invisible, Bilbo hunkered down as he watched the eye open to reveal a golden colour. Bilbo though it beautiful. Even though, Bilbo could not see the entire dragon's face, the creature looked as though it had a sense of curiosity or nonchalance about it but it soon changed to anger. Smaug shifted and raised his large head to reveal himself in all of his dragon glory. A snarl came up in his lips. He could not see Bilbo but he could smell him!


“Well...thief.” Smaug growled. His voices was baritone and yet majestic. Bilbo could listen to that voice all day. What the hell was he thinking? “I smell you. I hear your breath.” Smaug moved from his place and began to move his large head this way and that to see where the Hobbit was. Bilbo moved slowly to get further away from the dragon, but Bilbo wasn't looking where he was going and his foot knocked a goblet. Smaug heard this and turned his head in the direction of where Bilbo stood. Bilbo panicked and ran. He heard Smaug following him, his paws pounding on the mounds of gold with each step. He slipped by a pillar and hid behind it, but Bilbo knew it would be no good. Smaug would find him eventually.


“Come now.” the dragon said, as he moved nearer Bilbo's hiding place. “Don't be shy, step into the light.”


Smaug was toying with him. He wanted Bilbo to show himself. Bilbo couldn't give himself away. The Hobbit, even though he was invisible, stayed in the shadows and watched as the dragon moved slowly and stealthy around the hall. Bilbo couldn't help but gaze at the majestic and powerful form of Smaug. He thought the beast quite beautiful to look at...amazing. Smaug spoke again.


“There is something about you. Something you carry. Something made of gold.”


Bilbo stared as the dragon curled around a pillar to come back towards him. How did the dragon know about the ring he was wearing?


“But far more...” Smaug carried on. “Precious.”


As Smaug said this, Bilbo's head swam, filled with an image of a fiery eye that spoke in the elven language. Terrified, Bilbo found the ring, and pulled it off, gasping for air. He'd made a mistake, he'd revealed himself to Smaug. The dragon's eye widened and made a low noise of triumph.


“Ah!” he said. “There you are, thief in the shadows.”


Bilbo gaped at the dragon, who stared at him with one of his beautiful golden eyes. He had to worm his way out of this and fast! Even if the dragon was a sight to behold.


“I never...I did not come to steal from you, O Smaug the Unassessibly Wealthy, I merely wanted to gaze upon your magnificence, to see if you were really as great as the old tales say.” His voice then broke as spoke his next words. “I did not believe them!”


Smaug's features changed from dragon-ish glee to a look of contempt. The fire drake moved and soon stood to his fullest height and gazed down at the Hobbit. “And do you NOW?” the dragon's voice reverberated around the halls, ringing in Bilbo's ears.


Bilbo felt his breath leave him as he gazed up at Smaug, taking in the dragon, drinking in the once in a life time sight! “Truly. The tales and songs fall utterly short of your...enormity, O Smaug the Stupendous!”


“Do you think flattery will keep you alive?”


Bilbo shook his head, knowing a little bit of the truth. “No.”


“No indeed.” Smaug snarled. The red fire drake then looked at him, as though curious. “You seem familiar with my name but I don't remember smelling your kind before.” he said, moving elegantly towards him smoothly, like silk draping through your fingers. “Who are you, and where do you come from, may I ask?”


Bilbo opened his mouth but no sound came. He closed his mouth and willed himself to open it. “ name is Bilbo.” Bilbo mentally scolded himself. Why did he reveal his name? “I...come from under the hill.”


“Under hill?” Smaug asked, sounding a little like a child when been given a sweet.


Bilbo nodded. “And over hills and many my paths have led me. Through the air and I am he who walks unseen.”


“Impressive.” the dragon purred. It was true, he did sound impressed. Bilbo felt a smile curl on his lips. “What else do you claim to be?”


“Um...well, I...I'm a Hobbit that lives in the Shire.”


“, you are a Hobbit. Well, consider me very much impressed, little one. You are the first Hobbit I've laid eyes on.”


Bilbo nodded. “Thank you, O Smaug the Great.”


Bilbo wasn't sure but he thought he could hear a content purr coming from the dragon.


“Tell me, Hobbit. What about those dwarves? Where are they hiding?”


Oh, no. Smaug had noticed the smell of Thorin and his company outside. How was he supposed to get them out of this?


“D-Dwarves? N-no. There's no dwarves, here. You've got that all wrong.”


“Don't bother denying it! I smelt their foul presence moments before. They've come for the treasure.” Smaug then glared at Bilbo. “That's why they sent you here to find the Arkenstone.”


Smaug was clever and Bilbo wasn't sure if he could continue lying to the dragon.


“Y-y...yes.” Bilbo answered. A low growl sounded from Smaug's throat.


“It's not your fault, Bilbo the Hobbit.” said Smaug. “They took advantage of you and that usurper, Oakenshield, saw you to be nothing.” The red dragon moved closer to the Hobbit. He moved his muzzle towards Bilbo and nuzzled him gently. “Don't worry, I will protect you if they won't.”


Bilbo pulled back a little.” “How do you know that the dwarves don't want me?”


“Because they wouldn't have have sent you to me, alone. They would have given you protection.”


“I have protection.” and Bilbo unsheathed Sting from its scabbard.


Smaug examined the sword. “Elven make. Impressive. How did you come across such a weapon?”


“We came across a troll cave, on our travels. Wasn't pretty.”


“Hmmm, you astound me, Bilbo. You've probably done more than any of your kind have ever done before.”


“My mother was a Took. The Tooks have an adventurous spirit.”


A small smile came up on Smaug's lips. The dragon moved a little and held out his left wing. Bilbo looked at the wing and then to the dragon.


“Tell me more about yourself. You intrigue me.”


The wing was invitation. To climb aboard. Bilbo smiled sheathed Sting and climbed up until he sat on top of Smaug. The dragon then walked back over to the place he'd been lying before. He slowly settled down on the floor of gold and curled up like a cat in front of a fire.


He didn't know how long he had been talking with the dragon for but it felt like a long time. He also found out that the dragon was completely misunderstood and Bilbo began to like the dragon more. The Hobbit was now sitting in front of the dragon, in between his paws.


“So, what is so important about the Arkenstone?” Bilbo asked. “Why is it important to the people of Erebor?”


“Because it's part of the mountain.” Smaug said. “The stone has another name: 'Heart of the Mountain'. The stone is to be with the ruler of Erebor unless it's taken.”


“So...the stone is one with you?”


“It is. Unless given away or taken. But the stone is the importance of Erebor.”


“I can see why the dwarves would want it.”


“Yes, but they will not take this treasure, my little Hobbit.”


Bilbo placed a hand on Smaug's muzzle. “I won't let them, Smaug.”


The Hobbit didn't know why but he was beginning to feel something more towards the dragon. Is this what his mother had called 'love at first sight'? Smaug purred again and nuzzled his snout against the Hobbit.


“Bilbo, there is something about you. And it's not just the gold that you carry. I feel something towards you that a dragon would to his mate.”


To his mate? What did that mean? Wait...did Smaug want him as his mate? “ want your mate?”


A low rumbling laugh escaped Smaug's lips. “You are clever, my little Hobbit.” and he blew a snort of air in Bilbo's face, making him giggle. “I think you would be a good mate for anyone to have. I think I'll be the luckiest creature on this earth.”


A blush came up on Bilbo's cheeks. He leaned towards the snout of Smaug and placed a kiss on the scales, making the dragon purr. Suddenly, Smaug's golden eyes focused on something above them and he growled. Bilbo looked up and saw Thorin, standing at the end of the tunnel, his sword was drawn. There was anger in his eyes. Bilbo slowly got to his feet.


“Thorin...please...” he said but the dwarf wasn't listening. He let out a roar and leaped down into the gold. Smaug roared and leaped towards Thorin. Bilbo tumbled onto the gold.


“Smaug! No!” Bilbo yelled. A burst of fire escaped Smaug's lungs as he went for Thorin. The dwarf king's son ducked and swung his sword, his blade made contact but no cut happened. Thorin ducked as Smaug went for him with his teeth. Thorin went to strike under the belly but he was blocked by another blade.




Thorin looked round and saw Bilbo, looking at his comrade with cold eyes. “Bilbo, what are you...?”


“Leave him be.” Bilbo growled. He kicked out into Thorin's side, knocking him off his feet and landing on the gold. Smaug strode over to Thorin, his chest lightning up as the fire in his lungs billowing and towards the dwarf. Thorin ran for cover and hid behind a pillar.


“Now!” Thorin yelled. Bilbo heard a hurry of footsteps and saw the other company members hurrying towards him. They grabbed him and pulled him away.


“No, let go of me. Let go. Stop it!” he protested but they ignored him. He turned to see Smaug crawling over to Thorin's hiding place. “Smaug! Smaug!”


The dragon turned and stared with wide eyes as the Hobbit was dragged up the stairs.


“No. BILBO!” he roared.


“Smaug, help me!” cried Bilbo.


Smaug roared in anger and stormed after the dwarves. Fire streamed after them but didn't quite reach, for Bilbo was pulled into the tunnel. Balin turned to the Hobbit.


“Did you get it?” he asked. “The Arkenstone, did you get it?”


“No!” Bilbo snapped. “I didn't. What was the meaning of manhandling me?”


“It was Thorin's idea, Mr. Baggins?” explained Ori. “We had to drag you out of there before the dragon got to you.”


“Smaug wasn't going to eat me. Or hurt me.” Bilbo said.


“You never know with dragons, Baggins.” growled Dwalin. “Come on, we best get out of here and back to Laketown. We've got to help Fili.”


“No!” Bilbo snarled.


The other dwarves looked at the Hobbit, aghast. “What?”


“I'm not leaving this place. I'm not going.”


“And why not?” said a voice. Bilbo turned to see Thorin, his lip cut and a trickle of blood running down his chin.


“Because I say so.”


“Really? And what were you doing with that slug?”


Bilbo's eyes narrowed. “I was kissing my mate, Thorin. Is that such a problem?”


“Mate? What are you talking about, Bilbo?” Bofur asked.


“Just what he said, Bofur.” Thorin growled. “He betrayed us.”


Bilbo glared at Thorin. Suddenly, there was a rumble and a roar. Smaug!


“He's coming.” Thorin yelled, grabbed Bilbo and the company hurried out as the tunnel; splintered and cracked and then smashed as Smaug came charging through a large hole into the side of the mountain. The dwarves and Bilbo hurried down it, although Bilbo was being dragged by Thorin. He caught sight of the Smaug swooping down towards them and roaring. Bilbo tried to call out to his mate, but was gagged by Dwalin and was thrown over his shoulder. Smaug roared again and dived down. The dwarves yelled and ducked, their pace quickening. The whole company soon reached the mountain bottom and into the forest, as Smaug set the tree tops alight. The dwarves ran on and soon they lost Smaug and settled into a small clearing to catch their breath. Dwalin dumped Bilbo on the ground and then sat down on a fallen log. Bilbo ripped off the bind on his mouth and looked round at Thorin. He could hear Smaug's angry roars and cries for Bilbo.


“What do you think your doing?” Bilbo hissed. “Take me back, now.”


“No, Baggins. We go back to Laketown and we rally up more men into Laketown to infiltrate Erebor. And kill that worm.”


“I cannot let you do that!” Bilbo snarled.


“Why, because you fell in love with a beast?”


“He's not a beast. I think you should take a good hard look in the mirror before you say so.”


Thorin looked as though he wanted to hit Bilbo...but he didn't.


“Everyone, change of plans. We all go back to Laketown but we lure the dragon to the town. There we will take the beast out.”


“And how do we lure him?” asked Ori.


Thorin looked over to Bilbo. “Why, with our burglar – the dragon's alleged mate.”


Bilbo's heart skipped a few beats.




Smaug was angry. More angry then he'd ever been. The dwarves, those smelly foul things, had taken his mate. The forest was where he'd lost them and Smaug knew that they wouldn't stay there for long. But he knew where they would go. Laketown was the nearest place to Erebor. It wouldn't take Smaug there. He would crush the town like he had Dale and Erebor and take his mate back into the safe halls of Erebor and cherish him as his most valuable treasure. Smaug would not allow them to take away his happiness.


Smaug shifted on top of the lonely mountain. His golden eyes looked at every inch of the land, trying to find the dwarves, trying to look for Bilbo. A low growl left his throat when he couldn't see anything. He reared his head and roared. This was no ordinary roar. It was a warning, a warning to tell those wretched dwarves that he was out to get them. The sun was lowering and dusk was approaching.


It was time. Smaug raised his winged arms, beat them once, twice and rose into the air. The wind brushed along his scales. He swirled into the air, spreading his wings wide to their fullest wing span and flew towards the direction of Laketown.


“Do not worry, Bilbo. I'll find you.” he said.


It didn't take long for the dragon reach Laketown. He took a deep breath, feeling the fire boil in his lugs and released a long stream of fire. It lit up the houses at the entrance, burnings walk ways, house roofs, boats and the gates. He could see people running. He landed on the roof of a church, the roof splintered under his weight. This was too easy. He couldn't waste his time, destroying and burning the houses, he needed to find his mate and dwarves before it was too late. As Smaug roared out his planned welcome on Laketown, his eyes caught something. He looked over to the middle of a bell tower and saw...




Tied up to the mass wooden structure of the bell tower, gagged and the sense of fear and tears welling up in his eyes. His hair blowing in the breeze was...




The dwarves had done this! That fucking usurper!


Bilbo thrashed against the bell tower, he looked as though he was trying to call out to Smaug but couldn't. Smaug raised his head and roared in anger.


Chapter Text

Wicked lil Grrls – Esther:


Wicked lil girls,

kiss the boys and make them cry

reason that we're trouble, every time we pass them by

some might say we're...

wicked lil girls

we're curves, kisses and perfect wives

you better keep an eye on your boys and lock 'em up tight




It was Peter's birthday.


And Julian had organised a little surprise for him, with a little help from Smaug and Julian's boyfriend. On the night of Peter's birthday, they headed on down to the strip club, The Jock Strap, and was greeted by the bouncer, Lestrade. After sorting out tickets and stamps to get back in, they were led by Lestrade to a golden half circular booth and a man with short blonde hair, wearing nothing but a black apron and a fake ear piece that flashed in his ear – like something out of a sci-fi film – came up to the table.


“Evening, boys.” he chirped then he looked at a grinning Julian. “Hey, lover-boy.” he leaned down and kissed him on the lips.


“Hey, Ollie.” he cooed, slipping an arm around his waist.


Oliver smiled before looking at Peter. “Happy Birthday, Peter.”


“Thanks, Oliver...and thanks, I guess, for having us here.”


Oliver snorted. “Happy to have you here. What a better way to spend your birthday!”


Peter raised an eyebrow. “You mean by having sex with random strangers and paying them for it?”


“Of course.” Oliver replied and nodded to Julian. “Worked with this one.”


The others laughed.


“So, what drinks can I get, you boys?”


“Five beers all round, please, sweetie.” Julian said.


“Actually, make mine a whiskey please – Jack Daniels.” said Smaug


“And make mine a water.” said Khan.


“Okay,” Oliver said, writing down the order. “By the way, we have a little show for you and everyone here. I'll be in it, so, Tim, over there will be serving you for the rest of the night.”


“Wait, is it going to be...?”


Oliver nodded. “It is. Trust me, you guys will enjoy it.”


“We will?” Sherlock asked.


“Yup. Now, I'll get your drinks and the show will be staring in fifteen minutes.” he pressed a kiss to his lover's forehead and then left.


Peter looked over at Julian. “Please, tell me that Oliver didn't do this show just for me.”


“No, they've done this show for a few nights now. But trust me on this, guys, you'll love it.”




Shortly after Oliver served their drinks, he disappeared into the back. He entered the large dressing room to see his 'brothers' changing into their costumes.


“Hey, lads. Julian's here with his mates.”


“So, they took your invitation?” Arthur asked.


“Yeah. So, you might just get to meet them.”


“So, which ones the birthday boy?” asked Hector.


“The blonde one, Peter. I'll point him out to you before you go on stage. Who knows, I'll bring him up on stage with you.”


Hector smirked in the mirror. “I think you should. He deserves a little fun, tonight.”


“You lot seen Bilbo anywhere? He's on first.”


“I thinkhe's already at stage side.” John said, slipping into a long white coat. “It'll take some time for him to get strapped up so he can get on stage.”


“Okay, that's good. Well, lads.” said Oliver, clapping his hands. “Let's get this show on the road.”




In the room, the light went out and a voice called out over the tanoy.


“Ladies and gentlemen, Jock Strap Club is proud to present out show and performance of the night: The Brothers' Fantasy.”


“Oh, we're not gonna see an orgy, are we?” Sherlock asked.


Julian and Smaug shushed him.


“And now, we'll present our first part of the show, Bilbo Baggins in the dragon's keep.”


A loud cheer rang in the room, as red lights lit the stage. Music began to play, it sounded like the Fortuna piece. As it played three men came on the stage, two of which were dragging the third, who was aching like an unwilling sacrifice. The two men tied the third, Bilbo, up to dark green marble pillars with the chains that was wrapped around his wrists. Then the music changed. A simple beat but powerful. Julian recognised it was a French Eurovision a few years ago, L'Enfer et Moi. The audience watched as Bilbo began to strain against the chains, but the 'straining' looked more like he was sexually enticing the crowd. As the chorus jumped into play, another figure came on to the stage. He wore a long red coat with golden lining on it, he had horns long his head to look like a humanized dragon and thick leather boots. The newcomer prowled on the stage keeping his gaze on Bilbo. Julian smirked, went to take a sip of his drink and noticed Smaug looking eagerly at the stage. At Bilbo.


On the stage, the dragon man came up behind Bilbo and began to run his hands up and down the smaller man's body. The two began to grind against each other. Out of the corner of his eye, Julian could see Smaug's jaw tighten at the sight. Back on the stage, the red coated man was busy taking Bilbo's blue vest top off – or rather ripping it off. The man then slipped his hands along the brown haired man's bare arms and pulled them together, pulling the chains away from the pillars but they still kept to wrists. Their hips swayed together, making some members of the audience holler, whoop and wolf-whistle. Then the entire performance changed when Bilbo stepped away from the dragon clad man and wrapped one of the chains around his neck. The man made movements as though struggling against the chain. Bilbo pulled the chain dragging the taller man to the ground and placed his foot on the chest. He'd won the battle. Bilbo then pulled the chains off and sprinted over to the dancing pole that sat at the end of the cat walk. He leaped on to it, spun round it twice before leaning back away from the pole, his legs still wrapped around the pole. His hips grinded slowly against the pole.


Smaug leaped from his seat and strode to the stage as Bilbo climbed down and turned see Smaug standing the side of the stage, his arms folded against the stage. They stared at one another. After a small while, Bilbo remembered where he was. He somersaulted away and walked over to the right hand side of the stage. He grabbed a sword, walked back to where the dragon man lay, straddled hips and gave a few grinds of his hips before plunging the sword down, pretending to stab him. The track ended with an animalistic roar like the sound of an animal dying and the entire stage went dark and the audience cheered. Smaug came back over to their table, applauding. Peter leaned over towards the teen.


“Do you fancy that one then?” he called over the applause.


Smaug pulled a face like he was snorting. “I'd love to see what yours does.”


A cheer rang out of which Julian joined in with as his lover came on stage, dressed in silver pants that hung low on his hips and a torso less, sleeved top. His sci-fi ear piece that flashed red and blue was still in his ear.


“Good evening, everyone. I hope you all enjoyed that little tease there, now, we have something a little different planned for tonight. Today, is someone's birthday.” Peter groaned beside Sherlock. “A man named Peter. Peter Guillam. Where are you, Peter?”


Peter sighed and raised his hand. Oliver saw.


“Ah, there you are! Come on, up, sweetie.” Slowly, Peter slid from the booth as Khan and Julian let him out and he walked over to the stage. He was helped up by Oliver and was led over to a chair that was sitting innocently on the stage.


“Good, good. Everyone give a round of applause for the birthday boy.”


The audience did as they were told. Peter felt slightly embarrassed. He sat down on the chair and listened to Oliver.


“Now, I bet you're all wondering what we've got cooked up for the birthday boy, well, we have a man for the job. In fact, we've paid him extra to 'protect' Peter.” an excited murmur rang through the room, which Peter shot a questioning look at Julian, who pointed to Oliver, telling him to listen. “As we have been told that spies have come to ruin Peter's birthday plans! So, who do we need?”


“Hector Dixon!” the crowd rang.


At this the stage went dark and the music started.


My love's a revolver!


A white light came on as two men, probably the ones from Bilbo's performance, walked on the stage, they walked over to Peter but didn't get far as two gun shots were fired over the music and the two men went down to reveal...


Peter's eyes widened. Standing in front of him, was a man with blonde nearly the same shade as Oliver's that was combed to the suit ad a beautiful smile on his face. This had to be Hector Dixon. Hector holstered his guns and strode over to Peter.


“Oh, boy!” Peter said, but wasn't heard for the music was too loud. Hector stood in front of Peter. He swayed his hips and moved a little closer. He thrusted his hips into Peter's face. Instantly, Peter's hands went to Hector's hips but they were swatted away by the said man.


Hector leaned down and said in Peter's ear. “No touchy dearie, I charge extra for those services.”


“You mean to tell me that you won't give the birthday boy a discount?” Peter asked as Hector moved round behind him. The stripper's hands went sliding down Peter's chest.


“Depends if you're good.” he then pressed a kiss to Peter's cheeks. “Shall we continue?”


Peter smirked. Oh, he liked this one! He watched as Hector's hands began to trail down Peter's chest and navel...and his--


Peter gasped as he felt Hector's fingers squeeze his crotch, hard. He looked round into Hector's gorgeous blue eyes. He still had that smirk on his face. It made Peter shiver with desire. Hector leaned in and brushed the tip of his tongue along the blonde's ear. Peter's mouth dropped open and then he felt Peter move, pull out the gun from it's holster and pretended to shoot one of the 'spies' that had snuck on stage whilst Hector had been tantalising Peter. The music was cut off and the audience applauded again. Hector smiled and bowed to audience. He then turned back to Peter.


“Happy Birthday, big boy.” he purred.


Peter took hold of the standing man's hand. “Can I see you later?”


Hector smiled. “Of course, go to Lestrade and ask for me in a private room.”


Peter nodded and allowed Hector to take him off the stage. Hector left to go backstage as Peter walked back to his seat.


“You, er, all right, Peter?” Smaug asked.


Peter nodded. “Oh, yes. I've got a little invite to go and see him again.”


“You lucky thing! How?”


He invited me. Who knows, Smaug, you might see your friend if you ask nicely?”


Smaug's cheeks went pink under the dim light and he busied himself with his drink.




Later on, Peter went off into the back with the bouncer, Lestrade. After Hector's performance, Oliver came on and did his performance. So, Peter decided that he would leave the boys to it. He would go and see Hector and enjoy his birthday with him. Lestrade led him past the changing rooms, Peter caught sight of Bilbo Baggins, talking to a man who looked a lot like Hector but he knew it couldn't be as Lestrade would have led Peter to him and not further down the corridor. At the end of the corridor, sat a worn black door way with a golden star on it. Lestrade pulled out a set of keys and inserted it. The door clicked open and the bouncer pushed it open.


“There ya go.” he said with a smile. “Just wait in room 206 and he'll join you.”


Peter smiled and stepped inside. The room was large, almost like a changing room but with doors instead of curtains. It was dimly lit. peter walked down the small walk way to room 206. he could hear the sounds of things going on within the rooms. But he wasn't interested in what they were doing. He soon reached the room in question and entered. The room was circular and the walls were decorate in black with glitter. A small shaded red lamp set on a small bedside table, a purple armchair sat in the corner. A bed that had black pillow covers and duvet covers on it. Peter moved over to the bed and sat down on it. As he made himself comfy, the door opened and in stepped Hector.


The stripper was dress in a long dark dressing gown and he wore a dazzling smile.


“So, the Birthday Boy wanted his present after all?”


Peter grinned. He watch as Hector closed the door and moved over towards him. He crawled on the bed and pushed the blonde onto his back. He pressed a kiss to Peter's lips.


“Now, then.” he purred. “What does the birthday--?”


“Peter. Peter Guillam.”


“Well, then, what does Peter the Birthday Boy like then? Hmm? Do you like roleplay, S&M, voyeur, mutual masturbation, toys? Which?”


“You.” Peter said, simply. “Just you.”


Hector blinked. “Me?” he asked. “What do you mean 'me'?”


“Simple. Just as I said. I like you. I don't want to have sex with you, Hector. I want to get to know you.”


Hector blinked again, then his expression changed. He sat up and slowly, looking as thought he now distrusting him. “Are you one of those Christians or Catholic geezers?”


Peter snorted. “If I was, do you think I'd be here.”


“Some would still come, Catholic or Christian or otherwise, because they don't approve of their religion.”


“And yet if I was overbearing and religious, you would see a cross around my neck and me having everyone in here, repenting.”


Hector smiled. “I suppose not. So, why do you like me?”


Peter smiled and placed a hand over Hector's. “Because I want to get to know you.”


“And let me guess, you felt a connection between us?”


“Yes, I did. Not a strong one but I do know one thing. Oliver and Julian did this to get us all together.”


Hector stared. “How did you--?”


“Know? I've known Julian for a long time and my friend, Sherlock, told me about it. Why else would Julian and Oliver plan us to come here, besides it being my birthday?”


“Knows a lot, does he??”


“He doesn't know. He observes. He's taught me a lot, he has.”


Hector climbed up the bed, propped one of the pillows up and settled against it. “Well, get yourself comfy, dearie, we'll have a lot to discuss.”




Two hours later, Peter, Hector and the others were standing outside of the club, watching a customer being escorted into a police van and Khan and Arthur sat in the ambulance being treated to their very minor wounds and shock. You see, whilst Hector and Peter had been else where, Oliver had finished his performance and allowed Arthur to do his. But Arthur had been greatly watched by two pairs of eyes. As Arthur had stepped forwards on to the stage, a member of the crowd stepped on the stage behind him and nearly went so far as to molest him! Khan, who had also been watching Arthur with rapt attention, sprang into action, pulled the man away from Arthur and gave him a right hook in the chin, causing the man to fall into the crowd of spectators and trying to start a fight with Khan, but Khan defended himself and – even though he wouldn't admit it to the public – he defended Arthur too. Tim, one of the staff members, called the police and an ambulance, in case. After taking a statement from Khan and Arthur, along with a few others, the police left. Arthur turned to the dark haired man that sat beside him.


“T-thank you.” Arthur stuttered.


Khan turned to look at Arthur. A small smile came up onto his face. “It was no trouble. No one deserves to be treated as such.”


Arthur smiled. “Would you, um, like to go out to dinner with me sometime? As a thank you.”


Khan's eyes widened. He looked morally surprised. He looked quickly towards Peter and the rest, as though asking them what to do. Peter and the others waved their hands as if saying 'Go on'! Khan then looked back to Arthur and smiled. “All right. It's a date. When is your day off?”


Peter smiled. And that's how it came to be. Khan and Arthur went out on a date three days later. Peter and Hector got to know each other more – and then had amazing sex! Smaug and Bilbo met up nearly everyday and moved in together ten months later. Sherlock and Hector's cousin, John, became partners in crime/colleagues/lovers, and Julian and Oliver became very happy that their matchmaking idea had successful results.


Chapter Text

I Wanna Have Your Babies – Natasha Bedinfield:


I wanna have your babies

it's serious like crazy

I wanna have your babies

I see 'em springing up like daises




Bilbo looked at the six dragon egg that lay on top of a mound of fur robes, throws, blankets and clothes. Smaug had been against the idea because they smelt of dwarves but Bilbo talked him round and he settled the large eggs on the furs. They were about twice size of a bloodhound with red scaled patches with a hint of gold and had at least six weeks left to hatch. These six eggs had been inside of Smaug for at least ten months and two weeks ago, Smaug had laid the eggs and then they had to wait at least eight weeks for them to hatch. The little hobbit found it to be tiresome to wait so that he could meet his and Smaug's children. Yes, he and Smaug had planned to have children but had never expected for Smaug to lay six. Bilbo wasn't sure if he could handle six drakelings but Smaug reassured Bilbo that drakelings wouldn't be much of a handful as human or dwarf children. He could remember how the conversation had gone.


Bilbo stared at the massive dragon. “I'm sorry, you-you what?”


I want to have children. Offspring.”


But, how, how is that possible?”


Very possible. Surely, your parents have...told you of how--.”


Yes, yes, I know about HOW a baby is conceived. But is it possible for two people of the same sex to...?”


Of course,” Smaug said, laying his head down beside Bilbo, so that Bilbo was staring into the golden eye. “With my dragon magic, we'll be able to have offspring. Our children.”


Bilbo stared again. “Are...are you sure that this is what you want?”


I have never been more sure, my dear Hobbit.”


Bilbo smiled. “Sounds like a brilliant plan.” he said.


The dragon grinned, showing his sharp sword like teeth.


But there's one thing.” Bilbo said, a worry popping into his head. “How am I going to be able to carry the dragon eggs? Won't it be too much for me?”


Yes, that's why I will. I will carry our children. It'll be easier on your body.”


I see.”


Smaug moved his head closer to Bilbo, the hobbit feeling the dragon's warmth radiating from his scales like a coal fire.


So, when is your next heat?”


Smaug purred lovingly.


Bilbo smiled as he remembered what happened next after two weeks of waiting. As Bilbo sat and watched the eggs, he felt movements behind him and Smaug nestled down beside him.


“You've been watching our eggs for a long time, now.” the dragon rumbled.


Bilbo blinked. “Sorry, Smaug. I just...”


“You do not like waiting?”


Bilbo nodded. “Yes.”


“Trust me, my little Hobbit. I don't either...but it'll be worth the wait.”


Bilbo smiled. “I'm sure it will be, my dear dragon.”


Smaug purred and nuzzled his head against the Hobbit. Bilbo's smile turned into grin and he leaned into the touch. They backed off a little and Smaug rose up to nestled down on the eggs.


“Do you want me to go out and get some food?”


“Maybe later. I'm not hungry now.” Smaug said, curling up on the nest of furs, his wings folding up on his sides.


“Is it okay if I do? I'll be back soon, I'm not going to go far.”


“As long as you stay safe, my beloved.” Smaug rumbled.


“I have Sting, don't worry.”


Smaug smiled and closed his eyes. Bilbo watched his lover sleep and then left the dark halls of Erebor.




“Ow! Papa! Freya hit me again!”


Bilbo sighed. He walked out of the large kitchens of the Erebor with a large pot of beef stew – although – and headed towards the large grand hall where he'd left his children to play. Smaug had gone out to catch more food for the coming winter. Bilbo hurried inside the hall. Freya, his first daughter that hatched from the eggs, and his second son, Cai, were fighting again. He paced the pot on top of a large banqueting table and hurried over to the squabbling siblings. He split them apart.


“All right! All right! Enough, already.” he chided. “Now, what is the matter?”


“Freya took my ruby!” cried Cai.


“No, it's not, it's mine!” Freya scolded.


“It's not!” Cai shouted.


Bilbo rolled his eyes. Oh, yes they were their father's children. “Freya, Cai, does it matter if the ruby is yours or not?”


“Yes, papa, I saw it first.” the female drakelings pouted, clutching the ruby even more.


“Father was the one who actually found it.” Cai snarled.


Actually, it was the dwarves.” Bilbo interjected. “Your father stole it...sort of.”


“But--.” Cai started but his Hobbit father interrupted.


“Look, both of you, the treasure is ours. Everything in this hall, all of this treasure, is ours.” said Bilbo. “So, stop fighting this...and share.”


Freya and Cai and looked at Bilbo and then to each other. Bilbo sighed as the two dragons went off in different paths. Their third daughter and first son, Carina and Leif fluttered down from thr rafters of the hall.


“Father's back.” said Carina.


Bilbo smiled. “Good. Now, let's set the table, shall we?”


So, they did. As Bilbo came back from the kitchens with a huge carcass for Smaug, he heard the sound of his husband coming into the hall. Bilbo turned and watched as his enormous husband towered over them, several deer and rabbits in his jaws.


“You had a successful hunt, then?” Bilbo asked as their children flew over to greet him. Smaug put down his captures.


“I did, my love.” he then nuzzled his children. “Hello, my darlings.”


The young drakes greeted their father and hurried over to the table. In the blink of eye, Smaug changed into his human form and helped Bilbo carry the carcass over to a pillar, where they would later take them to the kitchens.


The family soon sat at the table and enjoyed their family meal.


Chapter Text

You and I – Lady Gaga:


It's been two years since I let you go

I couldn't listen to a joke or a rock n' roll

muscle cars drove a truck right through my heart

on my birthday ya sang to me a heart of gold

with guitar humming

and no clothes

this time I'm not leaving without you!




Two years!


Two years Sherlock had been forever gone from the world. John didn't know what to do. He didn't know what he would do, now, without him. He had been completely heartbroken by the sight of seeing his friend lying on the ground covered in his own blood. His ice blue eyes unfocused. He tried to reach for him but the small crowd of people did nothing but hold him back. Mrs Hudson had been deeply upset and tried to persuade John said he couldn't. Too many memories.


John lay in bed of his new flat, staring up at the ceiling. He could remember standing at Sherlock's grave, pleading with the headstone for him to be online...for him to live. But John was still waiting! During that time, he'd let go of his love for the detective and went to find someone else.


He'd found Mary. She had been his anchor and helped through his heartbreak – he didn't tell her that he'd been secretly in love with Sherlock. And soon he fell in love with her (but that wouldn't matter anymore).


John had planned to marry Mary. He'd had it all figured out. The restaurant, the ring, all he needed now was the answer. He sat inside the restaurant, his back to the door, waiting for Mary to arrive. A waiter had soon arrived at his table as John had been looking at a list of champagnes to help celebrate the night. The waiter was flamboyant and French – which really didn't surprise John – and...really talkative! He reminded John of...


John shook his head of his thoughts. He asked about the champagnes choices and the waiter had recommended the last one. John accepted whilst the waiter had gone on about familiar faces. John had no clue what the waiter was going on about and then let him go and get the champagne. Soon, Mary arrived, all dressed up to the nines.


“So,” she said. “What was it you want to ask me?”


This was it! John thought. He was going to ask Mary to marry him...until it was ruined by the waiter coming back and began to ramble on about the champagne and...


“...a rather old friend.” he said, his French accent turning into a...familiar English one.


“Look, could you just please...” said John but he didn't get far as he stopped his sentence when he saw who it was. Who it actually was! was— could it be him?


John had...


“Sherlock.” he whispered.


Sherlock smirked. “Funny thing a tuxedo...”


John's mind switched off. He could see Sherlock's lips moving but he had no idea what he was saying. Sherlock was alive. Sherlock... How could it be that...? how? He'd seen Sherlock fall! no...wait he didn't. He'd been knocked over by the biker and when he'd gotten to his feet... His love had returned from beyond the grave.








That lying bastard!




A few hours later...


Sherlock sat in the living room of his flat, tending to his wound after John had punched, thrown him to the floor, head butted him and then calmed a startled Mrs. Hudson, he thought about how it could have gotten better.




John had been under great stress. He'd been drugged and then placed into a bonfire and nearly torched to death – thankfully Sherlock had saved him – and then someone had planned to react the whole Guy Fawkes incident with the London Underground Trains and he and Sherlock had to figure out how to dismantle the bomb that would possibly blow up Parliament and he had to suffer a long awaited apology from him.


He sat back in his seat on the carriage and let out a sigh of relief. He felt movement beside him and knew that Sherlock had sat down beside him. He opened his eyes and found the no-longer-dead-man looking at him. There was tears in his eyes.


“John...” Sherlock whispered.


“Don't.” John said, looking away from him and at the window opposite. In the reflection, he could see that Sherlock was still looking at him. He slowly turned to look back at the taller man.


“John, please.” Sherlock said. “I know you are hurting and I know that you hate me.”


“, I don't hate you and I am not hurting. Not anymore. The pain...went..after I saw you again. I should have bloody known!”


Sherlock smiled. “You know now, that's the main thing.”


“Yeah, and to tell you the truth, I'm glad that you're back. Because...”


“Because what, John?”


“Because I...because it won't be so boring anymore.”


Sherlock blinked as though a little unsure by John's answer but smiled nonetheless. “Yes. I suppose it won't be.”


John smiled. He looked away. He couldn't say. Not now. It was too late. His heart may have belonged to Sherlock but now it belonged to Mary and he would take that secret to the grave.


Oh, god, why did he think that? 


Chapter Text

Dressed to Kill – Cher:


I'm dressed to kill

and you know that I will

We're dancing in the dark with my hands around your heart

our heads will roll

and blood will spill

but how can you resist when baby I'm dressed to kill




The door slammed open of Peter's flat and the said man peeked his head around from the kitchen to see his lover, standing in the door way, his face splattered in blood and his guns in plain view, probably all empty.


“Good day?” Peter smiled.


“Tedious.” Hector snarled. “Bloody prick didn't put up much of a good fight.”


Peter rolled his eyes and slipped back into the kitchen. He heard Hector move about and then enter the kitchen.


“So, what have you been doing?” the assassin asked.


“Nothing much. Smiley allowed me to have the day off.”


“Well, that was nice of him.” Hector grumbled as he wrapped his arms around his lover.


“It was. So, tell me when is your next hit, and may I join you?”




The phone rang and Hector was one to answer it.




“Mr. Dixon?” said a voice. Female.


“Yes, this is he.”


“Good. My name is of no importance but I do have a proposition for you.”


“Oh, you do, huh?”


“I do. I think you'll enjoy this one.”


“Well, then...tell me what it is?”


“I need you to kill a man for me. He's been giving me a lot of grief...especially for my employees.”


“And who is this man?”


“A Mr. George Smiley.”


The smile on Hector's face and the phone in his hand went slack.




“And that's what the lady said?” George asked.


“Yeah.” said Hector. “I tried to see where the number came from was blocked. It'll be impossible to trace the call now.”


“We'll find them, don't worry.” Smiley said.


“Does this mean that security here will be tightened?” Peter asked.


“Yes, but will also mean protection at my home. They'll known that you won't be able to 'put the hit on me', so they'll send someone to you for telling us.”


“I'll be there for him Smiley, don't worry. There will be plenty of protection at the house.” Peter said, taking Hector's hand in his.


“Good. I'll arrange for others members of the Circus to take you home. It'll confuse them into thinking that we are all here and not else where.”


Hector sighed. This was going to be a long week.




Peter and Hector's flat was all in darkness. The electric, gas, lights, television – everything. The front door and windows were shut tight. It was if no one was at home.


A 'click' came from the flat door and it swung open. A man dressed in black slapped inside the room. Two guns and a knife were attached to the belt. He drew his gun from the holster and peeked into the kitchen. It was all clear. He then moved from the kitchen into the next room, which was the bathroom. He stepped inside and pulled the curtain aside. No one. He stepped out and proceeded into the small living room. No one again. The intruder was beginning to think his boss had led him off on a wild goose chase. He stepped out and saw that there was one room left to check. The bedroom.


Slowly and carefully, the man moved closer to the door of the bedroom. He reached out and turned the door handle. The door swung open with a creak and looked into the room. Like the rest of the flat, it was dark, completely. The curtains were drawn too. But the intruder could see something on the bed. It moved a little. A sleepy groan sounded.


It was a body. Male. The intruder moved a little closer to the bed, the gun raised towards the bed. The door behind him closed with a snap. The man turned to see someone behind him. He was naked as a new born baby and held a gun in his hand – silencer on the end. With two muffled shots, the man in black was shot dead.


Hector smiled and looked over at his sleeping boyfriend in the bed. He put away his gun and dragged the body from the bedroom and into the living room. He then a text to Smiley saying that one of the hit man were dead. He then walked back into the bedroom, climbed into bed and slept beside his lover for what he hoped would be a peaceful night.


Chapter Text

Runaway – The Corrs:


Johnlock with minor Guixon.


I would runaway,

I would runaway with you

'cause I

have fallen in love

with you

no, never have

I'm gonna stop falling in love

with you




“I need to go somewhere.” said Sherlock.


“What, where are you going?” John asked as he watched Sherlock leave the room.


“Out. I need to do something.”


“No, Sherlock! Tell me what do you need? What's going on?”


Sherlock had just about left the room, but stepped back into the room and closed the door. He turned back to John, his eyes becoming red with tears.


“I'm going to die, John.”


John looked at him. Sherlock sniffed. Moriarty had destroyed him, ruined him piece by piece until he claimed himself to be a fake. He was at his wit's end. He didn't know how but he was going to stop Moriarty before it was too late. He watched the ex-army doctor shake his head as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing.


“What do you mean you're going to die? Are you...?”


John nodded. “All right, then. I'll make sure you won't. I'll help you.”


“Y-you will?”


“Yeah, I will. Because I know someone who can help us.”


“Really? Who?”


John smiled at him. “A relative of mine.”




The man had come along with John's relative was not the one who had surprised Sherlock but John's relative.


His cousin, Hector Dixon. Sherlock couldn't believe that they weren't twins and just cousins. They looked to be so much alike. His boyfriend, Peter Guillam, sat beside him, a little stiffly and yet had a pleasant smile on his face. Sherlock looked at them as they talked with John.


Peter: perfectly well tailored suit, well tamed hair. He wore a ring on his left hand – pinkie finer. There was a gun in his pocket. He was an MI6 agent that worked for a group called the Circus. He'd met Hector during one of his missions, accidentally. He'd been shot; judging by the way he'd sat before on the couch – in the hip!


Hector: also wore a tailored suit but this was black with a slightly grey trench coat but it didn't have executive cut like Peter's. He wore black gloves, obviously didn't like to get his hands dirty. Weird for a hit man, must have an accomplice. The glove on his right had a small bulge – a ring. Where they secretly engaged? His hair was combed to the side...and still Sherlock couldn't get over how much he looked like John.


“So,” Hector said, fixating his gloves. “You're the famous Sherlock Holmes.”


“Yes.” Sherlock said. “You probably heard about me from the papers.”


“No, me and Peter don't read the papers. We got all our news from the horse's mouth. Johnny, here, told me – well, us.”


“His blog?”


Peter nodded.


“I see.”


“Hmm, I suppose this Moriarty geezer's been giving your some grief and you need my help.”


“What? John, did you--?”


“No. he didn't. Why else would I be here? Me and Peter did a lot of thinking about it on the drive through.”


“What's he done that puts you in jeopardy, Sherlock?” asked Peter.


“He...he's been ruining me. Claimed me as a fake. Driving people into thinking I was not the great detective that some people think I am.”


“So, what do you want us to do?”


“Well...” Sherlock started. “The thing is...”




Things hadn't gone the way Sherlock and the others had had in mind. Moriarty had shot his brains out. So, they would have to make sure that this went off without any hitches. Mycroft would have his team working on the snipers and killers that were called off. Now, Hector who would be taking John's place as the plan came into motion. Peter and John had gone off with Hector's colleague, Fabian, in their car to the airport where they'd be catching a private plane to head off to a secret location and they would hide low until the smoke cleared and Hector would take over as John and Peter would be his live in boyfriend. Mrs. Hudson had been sworn to secrecy as Peter had told them and a funeral would be held. Privately, of course.


With some help from Molly's friends, Sherlock managed to get away and head off with John on their flight. The two lived quietly in the Caribbean as a couple and when nearly two years was up, they made a quick pit stop to the Netherlands and got married with Mycroft and Peter as witnesses as they had been the ones who had told them to come home. Soon, life for Sherlock was back on track when his name was cleared and for John...being his husband.


Chapter Text

Fix You – Coldplay:


lights will guide you home

and ignite your bones

and I will try

to fix you




Julian Assange had become bored. He had been asked by his boss, with his friend and fellow, colleague, Daniel, to go on a course and tonight was the last night. Thank god! Their boss had told them the course was in a town called Newton Haven. Daniel was the first to become bored so he stated that he was leaving and heading to one of the pubs. Julian made a noise of acknowledgement as he carried on with his work on his laptop. A couple of hours later, he grew bored.


Now, he was out on the streets of Newton Haven, hoping the night air would clear his head and maybe he would become sleepy and ready to head home tomorrow. As he turned down a street, he saw an old abandoned warehouse at the bottom of the road. Julian could see a white blueish light inside the warehouse. So, it wasn't abandoned. To satisfy his curiosity, Julian headed down the road, his hood kept up. He slipped open the door when he reached the building and stepped inside. His eyes widened as he saw what was in. Boxes of strange looking equipment were scattered all over the floor. Loose wiring was tangled up like string dumped in a drawer. He moved in closely and saw that there was three white like coffins with a blue light circling around it. No, wait...they weren't coffins. Julian looked at them closely and found that one was slightly open. He pulled it open and was met with a face full of smoke. Julian coughed and waved his arms to rid himself of the smoke. When it was gone, he saw that it was an incubator of some kind...but it didn't look to be anything from this world. What was it doing here? Maybe he could take this equipment with him, hike it all into the back of his truck and head off home with it. Daniel wouldn't suspect a thing. He could then try it out and see what it could be used for. He doubt if he would get money for it but...


Then Julian heard something that made him jump. A voice. It was distorted and echoing. Like a machine voice.


“Hello?” it called.


Julian looked round trying to see where the voice was coming from. But he couldn't see who...or what it was.


“Who's there?” he asked.


“Me. I'm over here.”


Julian looked to his left and saw a box moving with a clear open packing case in the corner. He hurried over and pushed one of the boxes out of the way. His mouth dropped.


Sitting in the corner, lying on his back on the floor, was a man,, it couldn't be. His eyes wandered to the head, the head that was smashed open. Clearly open. It was as though the head was a hard boiled egg and someone had cracked off the top part of his head and scooped out in the insides. There was even no skull. All that was inside were blue inky stains inside the head, almost like blood. There was blue streaks that trailed down his cheeks, round the back of his head and to the floor. The man alien. Or was he a robot?


“Um, you can stop staring now.” the man said.


Julian shook his head. “S-sorry. It's's not everyday I come across this kind of sight. Um, are you all right?” he asked, kneeling down beside the man and helped him up.


“Understandable.” said the robot. “And yes, I'm good.”


“Are you an alien or a robot?”


“Well, sort of both. But I wouldn't use the word 'robot' lightly. It's not what you think it means.”


Julian raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”


“The robot for my kind means slave and my creator wanted us to be more than that. He wanted us to have a choice in our lives.”


“So, what happened to you? Why are you like this and how come you're the only one here?”


“Well, I was the only one to come to Earth. It was something that my creator came up with. And for the reason why I'm like this was because I refused to be apart of his next 'experiment'. So, he grabbed a metal pipe and hit me over the head.”


“What was his next experiment?”


“Trying to take over this town. I couldn't go through with it.”


“So, he left you and this...all of this equipment here?”


“He had to. He'd been found out by his benefactors and was taken away. They didn't realise I was here.”


“So, you've been in here all this time? Unable to move?”


“Yeah. I need to be put into that cradle over there.” the robot said, pointing towards the white incubator like coffin. “And I'll be as right as you humans say.”


Julian smiled. “Well, don't worry. I'll look after you. I'm Julian. Julian Assange. And do you...even have a name?”


Oliver laughed. “Yes. My name is Oliver.”


“Well, it's good to meet you, Oliver. Now, wait here and I'll get my truck and I'll get you safely out of here and repaired in no time.”


“You''re saving me? But you hardly know me.”


“So, what? You don't deserve to be treated like this. I'm gonna take care of you. You won't be alone anymore.”


Oliver smiled. “Thank you.”

Chapter Text

I Can't Give You Anything but Love – Tony Bennett & Lady Gaga:


Gee, I'd like to see you looking swell, Tony

with diamonds watches, Tiffany's just don't sell,


until our lucky day you darn well

oh, I can't give you can't anything but love




Smaug Drake was the most wanted pirate in Middle Earth. According to legends, he had stolen treasures from places, from the Shire to Rivendale to Erebor to Dale. For years, people tried to capture him but Smaug always got the best of them. Rumours had circulated around the cities that the pirate was a skin-changer and he could transform into a dragon called a fire drake. But the rumours had not been confirmed.


On this day. his ship, known as the Arkenstone, had landed into port in Laketown. The cannons tore apart the gates and the sounds of their cannons, which roared out, made the townspeople scream and run for cover. Smaug and his crew soon ravaged the town. They didn't bother with killing people, they only just wounded them to put them out of action until they were gone. They didn't go into people's homes, just only the people who ran the cities, towns and villages. Here at Laketown, there was a ruler called The Master, who had a small hoard of treasure under his home, and had made people's lives a misery and was a cruel tyrant. So, his crew broke in to the home but were stopped on the threshold when a skinny run stood in their way.


“Do you realise that you're trespassing on the Master's property? You will be arrested, sirs!”


Smaug scowled at the runt. Weaselling little worm! He stepped forwards, grabbed the rat by the throat and hoisted him into the air. The man squealed like a pig, whimpering and sobbing. Pathetic!


“Boys,” hissed the pirate. “Tie this one and up and gag him. Then throw him in the cupboard. We don't deal with runts like him.” he then dropped him and walked off to leave his crew to it. His first ship mate followed him out of the room and towards the drawing room. He watched his ship mates hurry inside and grab what was valuable. He felt the room and proceeded into the study.


And what he found shocked him to the core. Below the window ledge lay a slave. He wore dirty old rags and was cowering on the floor, sobbing. He looked defeated. Smaug's ship mate came into the room but Smaug motioned him away. He closed the door, which made the slave look up and scurry back into the wall. Smaug couldn't help but stare. The slave was covered in marks as thought he'd been whipped. There was a cut on his lips as though from a punch or a slap. Anger bubbled in Samug's stomach. If there was one thing that Smaug hated than tyrants, it was slavery.


He loved cautiously forwards. “It's all right, little one. I am here to help you.”


“ ran sacked this place, the whole town.”


“I know but no one has been hurt. It's just people like 'The Master' I go after. Can I see your injuries?”


The slave relaxed and nodded. Smaug came over and knelt down beside him. He examined the wounds. Some looked old and some were fresh. Smaug looked up at the slave.


“Did that weasel do this to you?”


The slave nodded. “Yes, I deserved it though. It was my fault.”


“Nothing is your fault. You do not deserve to be treated like this. You can come with me on my ship. I will look after and tend to your wounds. You can live a life of freedom and adventure on my ship. Would you like that?”


“That would be brilliant.” Bilbo smiled. “Thank you.”


“Good. By the way, what is your name?”


“Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins.”


“Bilbo.” Smaug said, as though trying the name on his tongue. “Well, Bilbo, I am Captain Smaug Drake.”


“Smaug Drake? The Captain Smaug?!”


“The same. Now, shall we head to my ship? You'll be wanting to be rid of this place.”


Bilbo sighed. “More than anything.”


Smaug smiled and lifted Bilbo into his arms. His ship mate came into the room and the three headed into the foyer. The crew were waiting for his return, with The Master's gold in their satchels.


“One of you leave a message for our host about slavery. We do not tolerate it.”


And he left the house with Bilbo, still in his arms. He walked along the street as a whistle sounded. The whistle was to alert any crew mates, who had been separated, for them to quickly return for the boat departure. The boat sat waiting for them like an obedient dog and they all hurried aboard before The Master returned but Smaug didn't mind. He just wanted to get Bilbo as far away from his prison as possible.


“You know,” said Bilbo. “I can walk.”




Bilbo was soon settled in on the ship of Captain Smaug and was invited to share his quarters, with Bilbo taking the Captain's bed and Smaug taking the chaise lounge. Bilbo had been against it but Smaug insisted on him sleeping there as he was going to be living a life of luxury on the open sea.


Two days after Bilbo's rescue, the said Hobbit was sitting on the deck of the Arkenstone watching Smaug look out over the sea. He slowly manoeuvred himself over towards the Captain. Hobbits didn't do well in water and it was all he could do not to throw up. He soon reached the Captain.


“Ah, Bilbo. Good to see you.” Smaug said, not looking away from his periscope.


“You too, Captain.”


“Please, Bilbo. Call me Smaug.”


“Okay, Cap—um, Smaug.”


Smaug grinned and withdrew the periscope. “Looks to be a fine day on these waters.”


“It does, yes.”


Smaug looked down at the Hobbit.”Something troubling you, my little Hobbit?”


Bilbo bit his lip. He didn't know whether or not he could say what he wanted to say. He was afraid to cause offence. He'd often did that without thinking and The Master would strike him for his 'bad mouth' and lies. It had soon been drilled into Bilbo's head that he would keep his mouth shut and say what The Master poisoned him to say. But Bilbo had no need for that now! Bilbo was a Took, on his mother's side, and all Tooks had a heart curiosity. “Well, I...I've heard rumours from my old home in Hobbiton and also in Laketown, are...a skin-changer? Are the rumours true?”


Smaug looked at Bilbo, his expression was mild, Bilbo wasn't sure. A small smile came on his face and Bilbo mentally breathed a sigh of relief.


“Do not worry, little one. Curiosity is not a sin. It's how we learn in every day life. But yes, the rumours are true. I can change from human to dragon at will. Though I haven't used my dragon form for quite sometime.”


“How come?”


“Several reasons. One: is that I only use it to scare my foes. Two: fire and water do not mix well and the list goes on. The crew sometimes think I'm showing off. Showing off in what fashion or for whom, I'm not sure.”


“Would you show me?”


Smaug cast a curious look at Bilbo before grinning again. “You really are a curious one, aren't you?”


“I'm a Took on my mother's side. They live on adventure just for the sake of it.”


“I see. Well,I do promise that you will and I also promise to bring your to your original homeland.”


“ don't want me to stay?”


“It's up to you if you want to stay but you may as well visit now and again so you won't feel homesick.”


Bilbo gazed up at the Captain. “Thank you, Smaug. That's...that is the most nicest thing anyone has gone for me in a long time.”


Smaug inclined his head and went back to gazing out at sea. Maybe Bilbo would like his new life. Not serving some pig-headed arseholes or getting whipped or punched. He would prefer living with pirates on the sea and do something other Hobbits would dream of doing.


Chapter Text

On My Own - Lea Salonga (Les Mis OST):


But now the night is near

now I can make-believe he's here

sometimes I walk alone at night when everyone else is sleeping

I think of him

and then I'm happy with the company I'm keeping

the city goes to bed

and I can live inside

my head




John didn't want to see it. That image. The image of Sherlock lying there on the ground beside St. Bart's. Blood all round his head, splattered on his face. His eyes looked unfocused. He didn't want to believe it.


This is my note...isn't that what people do? Leave a note?””


John shook himself from his thoughts. Those painful memories of that day. When Sherlock fell. John wiped a tear from his eye and let out a shuddering breath. He needed air. Now. He moved off the couch and into the small hallway. He slipped on his coat, headed out of the door and locked up. The night air swept across his face, cooling him down. He walked along the pavement not bothering to pay any attention to passers-by. They were not of any importance. He walked along the streets and every street he came across, they seem to get quieter. He soon reached a park where it was empty. Good.


He sat down on the bench and closed his eyes.


“Back again, John?” called a familiar voice that he loved to hear.


John smiled. “Always. If it means I get to see you again.”


A laugh was heard. John looked towards the tall figure of Sherlock Holmes. The curly haired man moved over towards the bench and sat down beside him. Their legs brushed against each other. Sherlock held out his hand and John took it. He found it nice. It was comforting.


“Are you still thinking about what happened?”


John bit his lip. “I can't help it, Sherlock. Seeing you...lying there...covered in blood--.”


“I had to do it, John. You needed to be saved from Moriarty's men. You, Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson. What's done is done.”


John shook his head. “No, no you didn't. You could have just figured out another way. You always do.”


“I did.”


“Killing yourself was not a way to fix everything, Sherlock. I didn't want you to--.”


“I know. If you could think of a better option, I'd go back in time and do it that way.”


“So, why the bloody hell didn't you?” John snapped.


Sherlock was quiet. John closed his eyes and tried his best to keep in his sobs. He'd tried to keep in his tears for several months now but now and again he would let a tear or a sob loose. He felt Sherlock moving close to him. Arms came around him as an embrace and he felt lips brush against his cheek. He felt it that time, a tear falling from his eyes and down his cheek.


“Don't cry, John. I'm here.”


“I...I...I w-wish you were alive. I need you to be alive.”


“I am, John. Every night when everyone else is away or sleeping, I am always in your thought. Whether you think about the good times and the bed. I'll still be alive.”


“But I don't want it to be like that. I really need you here.”


“John, please, don't get upset. I'm here beside you, now. Isn't that enough?”


“No, I want you here all the time. I want to be able to work on our cases again, have our usual random chats. I want to hear you talk about the different types of tobacco ash...all four hundred of them.”


A small laugh was shared between them.


“I want to wake up beside you in the morning and sleep beside you at night. Give you kisses. Maybe Mrs. Hudson will throw a celebration after we come out and announced that we're a couple.”


“That is something she is likely do.” Sherlock grunted.


John sniggered again. He leaned into the warm hug, the only thing that was keeping him warm in the cold night air.


“How id Mrs. Hudson?”


“I haven't seen her.”


“You didn't go back to Baker Street”


John shook his head. “Too many memories.”


“She needs to know how you are.” Sherlock said, in his ear. “She must know that you're well. Call her. Go back to Baker Street. Rekindle the good times in there.”


“I can't.”


“You wait for...”


“What?” John looked at the former detective. “I can wait for...what?”


“It doesn't matter. Just go back to Baker Street.”




“Because it's best for you. You haven't been sleeping well nor eaten anything.”


“Stop with your deductions, will you!”


“It's true though, isn't it?”


John was quiet, trying to collect his thoughts and shorten his temper. “Yes, all right? Smart arse.”


Sherlock smiled and rested his head against John's. They stayed like that for hours and hours. The occasional question and answer popping up along with kisses from Sherlock. Soon enough, the sun came up. It meant...”


“I must go now.”


John looked up at him. “What? Now?”


“Yes. But I'll be here tomorrow night.” the taller of the two smiled and cupped John's face. “Please, John, go back to Baker Street.”


John's eyes met with Sherlock's. They stared at one another, enraptured. Then the ex-army doctor nodded. “Okay.”




And then as Sherlock did every night, he kissed John on the lips. He got to his feet and left. John watched him walk away. As he blinked, Sherlock's form was there one minute and gone the next. Another tear escaped John's eye. You see, every night John would always come here to see Sherlock's ghost. He knew that it was all in his head – that it was a sign of the trauma he had face when seeing Sherlock fall to his death. Problem being he wasn't sure what it was caused by as he'd never told his therapist about seeing Sherlock. But even if it was unhealthy, John found it a comfort...


To see his love again. He found it a little cruel that this ghost-Sherlock knew about him love and reciprocated those feelings. And naturally, Sherlock would know about his feelings; when he was alive it had been his job to know everything.


John got up from the bench and left the park. Maybe he would go back to Baker Street.




In corner of the park, Sherlock watched as John left the park. He moved behind the tree he was near and he reached up and touched his lips, remembering the kiss he'd shared with John. He sighed.


“I love you, Dr. Watson.”











“I love you, Mr Holmes.”


Chapter Text

One for My Baby – Robbie Williams (Frank Sinatra cover):


Well that's how it goes

and Joe I know you're getting anxious to close

and thanks for the cheer

I hope you didn't my bending your ear

but this torch that I found

it's gotta be drowned

or it soon might explode

make it one for my baby

and more for the road




He was going to kill Gary!


He'd invited Oliver along to another little get together. Oliver was thankful that it wasn't another pub crawl. Just a get together with friends. But Oliver wasn't to go alone. Julian had been invited. Oliver had wanted to keep Julian a secret from his friends, especially he was embarrassing enough! But that went out the window as Oliver had invited his friends over when Julian had gone away on business and Gary had stolen his phone. He'd found pictures of him and Julian when they'd gone to Benidorm and Tenerife. So, now he and Julian were getting ready to head out and meet them.


“You know,” Oliver said, looking at his lover, as he fixed his waist coat. “You don't have to come along. Gary's only making you do this just so he can see if you're real.”


“So,what if I am? So, what if I'm not?” Julian replied as he finished his waist coat. He then turned to Oliver. “Look, your friends are just showing that they approve of our relationship and want to get to know me better.”


“Yeah, that and wanting to give you the 'if you hurt my friend, we'll cut off your...'.” Oliver stopped himself. He'd said too much. “You know what I mean.”


Julian smiled. “It's going to be all right, Oliver. Remember how nervous you were meeting my friends?”


“You don't have that many friends, Julian. You insult people or always rub them up the wrong way.”


Julian quirked an eyebrow. “I do?”


Oliver rolled his eyes. He turned to the mirror and slipped on a jacket. “How do I look?”


“Something's wrong.” Julian replied without missing a beat.


“There is?”


Julian nodded. He walked over to Oliver, slipped the jacket suit off his shoulder and threw it on the bed. He then took hold of the tie, slipped it off and undid a few buttons on his shirt, revealing a small portion of his chest. Julian smiled.


“That's better.” he said.


Oliver felt a little embarrassed but decided that he may as well go for a new look. The couple soon left in Julian's pick up truck and headed off to The Bee Hive pub. The bar had a dozen or so customers with four members of staff on the bar. Julian soon spotted Andy and the others sitting at a table, along with Oliver's sister. Gary was the first to spot them much to Oliver's disappointment.


“There, they are!” he yelled. “The love birds have arrived.”


Oliver felt his go warm and was soon dragged over by Julian. Gary was also the first to greet them, by vaulting over the table and spilling Peter's drink on the floor and his shoes. Oliver shot him a warning look of which Gary ignored.


“So, you're Julia, eh?”


“Don't you mean 'Julian'?” the white blonde asked.




“Oh, good. Yes, that's what I meant. So, how long has our buddy, Oliver, here, been keeping you under lock and key for?”




“Wouldn't know.” Julian said, glancing at Oliver, who gave him an apologetic look. “He's not into that kind of thing. But if you're wanting to know how long we've been together's been seven months.”


“Seven months? Bloody hell, Oliver, why didn't you tell us about him sooner?”




“Because,” Oliver said through gritted teeth. “I thought it to be none of your business and I wanted to see if the relationship was good.”


“Of course the relationship was good.” Gary said, a little too loudly. “You've got a good-looking guy there, who's banging your brains out.”




Oliver felt his eye twitch in annoyance. Oliver's sister, Sam, decided to get up and steered Gary to his seat – or rather kick him back – before turning back to hug her brother.


“Hey, Ollie.”


“Hey, sis.” Oliver said, hugging her. She then turned to Julian and smiled.


“Nice to meet you, Julian. Finally. I'm Sam, Ollie's sister.”


“It's nice to meet you,too, Sam. Your brother's told me so much about you.”


“Not too much, I hope.” Sam said, with a smile. “Come on, meet everyone else.”


Soon, Julian met everyone and Oliver felt content that everyone was getting along with him – it even made Oliver's night when Julian 'owned' Gary with his quick wit. Thankfully, it kept Gary quiet. As Julian came back from buying another round, that was when Sam decided to ask the question.


“So, where did you two meet? We want to hear everything.”


Oliver and Julian looked at each other with a knowing smile. “Well, it's a long story, actually.”




Ten months ago...


It had been a several years or more since the Dark Ages part two had ended once again for mankind and everything was starting up again. With not much technology around, Julian was bored and took a job as a bar man under the caring wing of a man called Tobias Greengrass. Greengrass' pub was once known as 'The Smashed Lightbulb' which was slight coincidental after what happened, but then it was remembered as 'The Broken Computer Chip' to symbolise the defeat of the Network. Julian was pleased that the world hadn't come to a complete end but he had no technology. So, he'd become bored during his days off.


Julian looked up at the clock to see that it would beat least three house till closing time. Three hours till he finished. It was going to be along three hours. He finished cleaning the glasses for what felt like the hundredth time before hearing someone sit down on one of bar stools behind him. Julian turned to see...a man in a suit. Or at least what he thought was a man. His head was what shocked Julian, the top half was missing...his eyes and part of his nose as missing along the forehead and his hair. A black bluetooth earpiece sat in his right ear. Instead in it's place sat a slightly deflated football. A trickle of blue liquid like ink was sneered along where the human skin and the football material met. This man was one of those androids that had attacked Newton Haven. Julian suddenly remembered his manners and smiled at the android, although it was less likely for the man to see it.


“Hello, sir. What can I get you?”


“Umm,” the man said, his voice distorted, machine like with an echoing quality. Julian found it wonderful. “I'll have a whiskey, please.”


“Any preference?”


The man shrugged. “Not really.”


Julian smiled again. “Okay, small whiskey, coming up.”


“Actually,” the android said. “Make it a large one, will you?”


Julian raised an eyebrow, but poured the man a glass of whiskey. “Bad day, huh?”


“Yup. Phone's done nothing but ring constantly and then showing several people around different homes.”


“An estate agent, eh? I feel sorry for you, guys.”


The android shrugged. “Don't be. Wish I could leave but there's not that many jobs out there, now.”


“No, there isn't.” Julian said, placing his chin in his palm. He watched the robotic man gulp down his drink. Julian couldn't help but listen on word for word of this man's story.


“So, how come, a man like you from good ol' Australia, happening to be working in here? Who did you piss off?” then the man bit his lip. “Sorry that was a little bit rude.”


“No, it's okay.” Julian said, waving his hand. “Well, I'm actually here by force. I was given a safe haven in the Ecuador embassy, but now that the light's went out, I managed to get a little pardon and work here.”


“Why. What did you do?”


Julian cleared his throat. “Well, I...sort of hacked into a couple of systems and created a group called Wikileaks.”


“That was you?”


“Yep. Not something I'm proud of it...not now.”


“So, what you're redeeming yourself?”


“If you can call it that.” Julian said, with a shrug.


“Well, I'm sure you must have had your reasons to do it.”


Julian made a noise of agreement.”So, and I don't mean in this in any offence,but are you one of know?”


The man suddenly looked uncomfortable, even with half of his face missing. “I, um,” he coughed. “Yeah, I am. I am actually a copy of this man called Oliver Chamberlain.”


“Really? No relation?”


“I don't think so.” the clone said, with a laugh. “I pretended to be this man and interact with his friends and family. And then I was found out.”


“ had your head smashed in?”


“Yeah, that was Andy but since the lights came back on. My system somehow rebooted and renewed itself and I'd changed. Became better I was no longer a murderous life form from outer space, as did the others.”


Julian was enraptured by this story. It struck a small chord in Julian, hearing this man's story. If he told other people, his friends that he once knew and long left behind, they probably wouldn't have believed him. A lot of people who had read upon and researched him would think he didn't have a heart and an ounce of feeling to him. That he didn't care! But he did. He cared...for this man.


“You all right?”


Julian blinked as he suddenly came back to reality. “S-sorry. Um, what were you saying?”


“You just suddenly went quiet after I said my case.”


“Oh, right. Um, s-sorry again. Um, I know we've just met but I think that...” he sighed, frustrated. “What I'm trying to say you want to go out sometime?”


“ a date?”


Julian smirked. “Possibly. I..kind of feel like...there's something between you and..I.”


The supposed Oliver smirked back. “Bet you say that to all the punters. All right, I'll give you a try.” 


Chapter Text

Getting to Know You – The King and I (OST):


Getting to know you,

getting to know all about you

getting to like you

getting to hope you like me

getting to know you

putting it my way but nicely

you are precisely

my cup of tea




Paul Maddens had enjoyed the year he'd done the play. 'Nativity: The Musical'. Yes, it had been stressful at first bit it all came round in the end. Now, he was enjoying the fact that someone else in the school was taking over from him. Paul wasn't bothered that he wouldn't be able to direct the Nativity this year as he'd moved to Fitton wanting to get away and start afresh at a new school...ever since the break up, again.


Today, the said primary school teacher was doing his usual shopping for food. He'd finished his work of marking the children's school work and he'd grown bored, even Cracker hadn't been able to cure his boredom. So, after looking in his slightly bare cupboards, he though he might as well get the food shopping over and done with. The supermarket was fairly busy. He'd just rounded the corner from the next aside when he bashed his trolley into someone.


“Ow! Jesus.”


“Oh, my god. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to run into--.”


“It's okay, not your fault.” said the man. “We didn't see each other. Maybe they should put signs or mirrors on the end of the aisles, eh?”


Paul let out a small laugh. “Possibly.” Paul looked at the man carefully and couldn't help but stare. The man he'd bumped into was unnaturally handsome and even though he'd been attacked by a trolley he still managed to keep a smile on his face. How was it possible? “Um, are you okay?”


“Yeah, I'll be fine. It'll be a bruise by the end of the day.” he then looked at his watch and cringed. “Oh, shoot! I'm going to be late, look, I'm sorry to leave you now but I'm gonna be late as my lunch break is nearly finished. But it was lovely to meet you.”


“Yeah, you too, but I wish it was under different circumstances.”


The man smiled before hurrying off to the checkouts. Paul soon found himself still staring after the man and soon as he was gone, he blinked and snapped himself to the present. What the hell had that been about? Why was Paul so interested in that man? Whom he'd only known for a couple of minutes? Paul shook his head and carried on with his shopping.


As he carried on walking through the shop, paid for his shopping and back to his car, he couldn't help but think about the man who he'd bumped into before. Paul began to feel guilty that he'd hit him with his trolley. But if Paul hadn't, then he wouldn't have met...


What was the guy's name? As Paul pulled at the traffic lights on red, he realised he hadn't even got the man's name. Paul felt like banging his head against the steering wheel. Idiot! Well, he hoped that he'd be able to see his Mystery Man again. Someday.




It was at least three days since Paul had seen his Mystery Man and secretly, he was hoping that he would see him again. But when? On day four, Paul had somehow run out of dog food for Cracker. Mentally, he blamed the dog for eating so much. So, he happened in his car and drove off to the supermarket. He grabbed a small trolley and headed inside. After grabbing three large bags of dog food, Paul hurried to the checkouts. He safely parked his trolley at the the end of the conveyor belt so that he wouldn't hurt the person in front of him. As he dumped the first bag on the belt, he slightly startled the person in front of him. Paul reached for the second bag as the man turned and Paul realised that it was the man from before. They smiled.


“Hello, there.” the man said.


“Oh, hello.” Paul said. He was here! He was here! God, he sounded like a five year old.


“I see we've met again under different circumstances.” the man joked and Paul found himself laughing.


“Yeah, we did. How are you?”


“Good, thanks. That bump you gave me, came out as a lovely bruise.”


“That's good to know.” Paul said, unloading the final bag on the conveyor belt. “You manage to make it back in time to your job then?”


“Yes. Only a couple of minutes left. Thank goodness.”


“That's good. Do, um, do you work nearby?”


“Yes, I work at an airport, the MJN airlines.”


“Woo, that's incredible! So, what do you work there as...pilot, security?”


“I'm a pilot, yes. In fact, I'm the Captain.”


“Wow! That's...that's impressive. Very impressive.”


His Mystery Man raised an eyebrow. “Well, thank you. It's normally not what people say.”




“They don't usually believe that I am the Captain.”


“They don't? Well, that's a shame.”


The man shrugged. “It gets my by. It's something I wanted to do since I was young.”


“Well, at least you've made it. Me, I er...I wanted to do something in show bizz. You know acting, that sort of thing. But it didn't work out so I became a teacher.”


“Well, it's best to have a good back up plan. But show bizz, eh? That sounds amazing.”


“It was on the horizon but...I think this was what I was meant to do.”


The man nodded as though he understood. The checkout girl finished with her costumer and it was Paul's Mystery Man's turn. He grabbed a five pence bag and put inside his shopping.


“So, do you teach at a college or a secondary or primary?”


“A primary. Kids, for some reason, love me.”


“Well,” the man said, shrugging again. “You seem to have a loving face.”


Paul could feel his face heating up at the man's words. He watched the pay for his shopping – which didn't look much – and then came his turn. Soon, Paul paid for his shop after a little help from the pilot and they left.


“So, where are you off to now, then?” the man asked. “Work or...?”


“No, day off today. Nah, just take this lot home for my dog, Cracker. I think he eats like a horse, that dog.”


“Hmm. Cracker? It's not a common name for a dog.”


“No,, ex-girlfriend named him and she left him with me. She'd gone off to America and tried to become a producer.”


“And did she?”


“As it turned out, no. She'd became secretary.”




They stepped out of the shop and turned to look at each other.


“Well, it's been nice seeing you again.”


“Yeah. You too. I'm Martin Crieff, by the way.”


“Oh, Paul Maddens.” he said, shading Martin's hand.


“Well, it's nice to meet you, Paul.” said Martin.


Paul left his heart beat quickly as he heard Martin say his name. “You, too.”


There was a small silence between them. Then Martin spoke up. “Listen, um...I-I-I-I...I'd really like to meet up with you sometime. A longer chat when we're both off work.” and he reached in one of his pockets, pulled out a pen and took one of Paul's hands. “So, here's my number.” and he looked up at Paul with a smiled. “Give me a ring in the meantime, yes?”


“Y-yeah, I will.”


“Good. Listen, I must dash. Meeting up with my brother.” he sounded disgruntled at the mention of his brother but soon perked up again. “Hopefully, our meeting will be soon.”


“It will.” Paul said, with a weak smile.


Martin smiled, gave a small salute and left Paul in the car park.




Two days later, Martin received a call from Paul about meeting up on a Saturday night. Thankfully, for both of them, it was also when Martin was off work too! Paul was actually surprised that Martin had decided to take him to a small summer market in the shopping centre, as Paul was sure he would take him to a pub to 'get hammered'. Even though, Paul wasn't like that! Paul found Martin, wearing skinny jeans, converses and a navy blue shirt with three buttons undone. Paul felt his mouth fill up a little at the sight.


“Hey!” Martin said, moving closer to Paul as Paul came over.


“Hello. You look smart.”


Martin's cheeks went pink a little. “Thank you. So do you.”


Paul glanced down at his black denim jeans, white shirt with a loose black and white tie. “It's not much.”


“It's all right. I'm not bothered. So, shall we get started?”


Paul smiled and they headed off into the market. The market was crowd. It was a maze of markets from all over the world. Clothing from America, Canada and Japan, chocolates and food from France, Germany, Spain, Australia. Crafts, bedding, tapestries, trinkets, jewellery, books alike. Paul had tempted Martin into trying a burger from ostrich meat. Martin had been a little freaked out by the thought of eating it, but soon found it was all right – but passed the opportunity on having kangaroo meat! Soon, Paul and Martin were both laden with bags from almost every stall and ready to relax.


“Well, shall we, um go back to yours?” Paul asked.


Martin's cheeks suddenly went pink! “Um, actually I might have people in the flat, so I highly think it'll be quiet.”


“Oh, right. Well, I suppose we could pop to mine. You can meet Cracker.”


Martin smiled. “That'd be great.”


Paul grinned and the two walked off out of the market. Unbeknownst to them, their hands suddenly became intertwined.


Chapter Text

At Last – Etta James:


At last

my love has come along

my lonely are over

and life is like a song

oh, yeah, at last

the skies above are blue

my heart was wrapped in clover

the night I looked at you




At the age of twenty, for a Hobbit, Bilbo received the name of his soulmate. It had appeared on the night of his twentieth birthday, on the small of his back. The tattoo name of his soulmate was written in elegant cursive and read:


Smaug the Golden


Bilbo had no idea who this Smaug could be. There was no Hobbit called 'Smaug' in the Shire. Had had de secretly made sure without anyone thinking twice. Especially Lobelia. If she got word out about the name of his soulmate, then tongue would way. That's the reason why Bilbo had said nothing about the name of his soulmate to any other Hobbit – as it was none of their business! It really wasn't. So for a long time, Bilbo was left to wonder about his mate.


It wasn't until after he turned fifty, did he find out about his mate. One bright and pleasant morning, Bilbo was happily sitting in his garden, smoking his pipe, when a shadow came over him. He opened his eyes and he saw a tall man wearing grey robes and a wide brimmed pointed hat. He had a heard that fell to his chest and he was holding a tall staff in his hands. He was looking at the Hobbit expectantly. Bilbo took a few puffs of his pipe and smiled at the stranger


“Good morning.” he said.


The man raised an eyebrow.. “What do you mean? Do you mean to you wish me a good morning or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not?”


Bilbo was confused. What was this man talking about?


“Or,” the man continued. “Do you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning? Or are simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?”


Bilbo shrugged. “All of them at once...I suppose.”


The man made a noise of either agreement or understanding. Bilbo felt slightly uncomfortable under the stranger's gaze.


“Can I help you?” the Hobbit asked.


“That remains to be seen.” said the man. “I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure.”


Bilbo's mouth dropped. An adventure? Him? Why him? Granted when he'd been younger he'd always gone on his own little adventures, but that was the Took inside of him. Anyway, why would this man, whom he didn't know anything about, want him to go on an adventure?


“An adventure? No, I don't imagine anyone west of Bree, would have much interest in adventures.” he stood from his garden bench and walked to his front door. “Nasty, disturbing uncomfortable things.”


And not long after did Bilbo find himself on an adventure – well, the start of one, anyway. He'd found out that the stranger was in fact, Gandalf the Grey, a good wizard whom had made fireworks at his mother's father's parties. Then he'd found thirteen dwarves in his home telling about claiming back Erebor. The mountain city of the dwarves.


“What do the dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Is Dain with us?” Gandalf asked.


“They will not come.” said Thorin, sounding disgruntled. “They say this quest is ours, and ours alone.”


The other dwarves made noises of disappointment. Bilbo become a little intrigued by this. “You're going on a quest?”


Gandalf looked at the Hobbit. “Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light.”


Bilbo did as he was told and brought a large candle to the table before lighting it. As he did this, Gandalf pulled out a folded piece of parchment and unfolded it out onto the table. It was a map.


“Far to the East,” Gandalf chanted. “over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary pack.”


“The Lonely Mountain.” gasped Bilbo.


“Aye.” said Gloin. “Oin had read the portents, and the portents say it's time.”


“Hmm,” agreed Oin. “Ravens have been flying back to the mountain as it was foretold: When the birds of old return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end.”


Bilbo looked round the table, concerned. “W-what...what beast?”


“Well, that could be a reference,” said Bofur. “To Smaug the Terrible, chief-est and great of calamities of our age.”


Bilbo froze. Had...had Bofur just mentioned the name, Smaug? His soulmate was Smaug?


“Did...I thought he was called Smaug the Golden?” Bilbo asked.


Bilbo smiled. “That's what some people call him, yes. He's an airborne fire breather, teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks and extremely fond of precious metals--.”


“Yes, yes.” interrupted Bilbo. “I know what a dragon is.” Bilbo went quiet as he contended with his thoughts. So, Smaug was a dragon that had claimed Erebor and it's treasure. How far was Erebor from here? Bilbo looked at the map on the table. It looked a long way away. It would take possibly days or weeks, or months, even. He couldn't let his soulmate be killed, not when he hadn't even known him. He would go on this quest of theirs but to find his mate not so that they could claim Erebor. It belonged to his mate!




A year passed for Bilbo and the dwarves. Gandalf had left them after finding out about a dark force in another land. The company of Thorin soon reached the Lonely Mountain and found the secret passageway inside. For the dwarves it was a step closer to winning back their home and their gold but for Bilbo it was a step closer to being with his soulmate. It was now Bilbo's turn – his 'big moment'. Balin led Bilbo along the passage that would lead him into the halls of Erebor and to Smaug. But the dwarves would be counting on him to find the Arkentstone. The prized jewel of Erebor.


“You want me to find a jewel?” Bilbo asked the old dwarf.


Balin nodded. “A large white jewel. Yes.”


“That's it? Only I imagine there's quite a few down there.”


Balin smiled. “There's only one Arkentstone. And you'll know when you see it.”


“Right.” Bilbo said, starting to feel less nervous. He had no reason to be as he would be finding Smaug. Would Smaug accept him? Of course, he had to, they were soulmates. Bilbo wondered if Smaug had left Erebor from time to time to find him. But according to legends, Smaug had slept in Erebor for sixty years. Balin's voice broke his thoughts.


“In truth, lad...I don't know...what you will find down there. You needn't go if you don't want to. There's no dishonour in turning back.”


Bilbo did want to go. There was no turning back. He'd come a long way just so he could find Smaug, to be with him. He did not care if Smaug was a dragon, or a dwarf or fellow Hobbit, he wanted to be with Smaug. “No, Balin.” he said. “I promised I would do this...and I think I must try.”


Balin smiled and let out an amused laugh. “It never ceases to amazes me.”


“What's that?”


“The courage of Hobbits. Go now...with much luck as you can muster.”


Bilbo nodded and proceeded to walk towards the hall when Balin spoke again.


“Bilbo, if there is, in fact, a live dragon down there...don't waken it.”


Bilbo, looking afraid as possible and convincing to Balin, nodded meekly and continued along his way into the Grand Hall. As he entered the hall, he saw the enormity of the room, the wall made of the deepest of green and hundreds of long engraved pillars sat in between them. Bilbo looked down at the floor, but couldn't not see the floor but couldn't see it as the gold, that the dwarves had uncovered, lay there. So, Smaug was lying under that pile of gold like a nest. Bilbo had to make himself known. Slowly but surely, Bilbo made his way down to the hoard of gold. Where would Smaug be lying under all of this? Suddenly, Bilbo heard movement from one side of the hall. He looked over to see one mountain of gold moving away like a landslide, revealing a large scaly red snout.




Bilbo grinned. His mate was here. Another pile of gold shifted again as the gold moved. This time, this one revealed the whole of Smaug's head. Slowly, as Bilbo drew near, Smaug's eye began to open, revealing liquid gold iris and his pupils were as black as night. The dragon's lips coiled in anger and he raised his head to look at Bilbo.


“Well, come to steal my treasure, have you, thief? I very much about doubt you'll be to for your size.”


Bilbo gazed at the dragon and shook his head. “Oh, no, Great and powerful Smaug. I came here on business of a different sort.”


The dragon growled in it's throat. “And that would be?”


“Finding my soulmate.” Bilbo said. “You.”


There was a silence for a few moments. Smaug then raised his entire body up, making the gold slide from his huge body. The dragon moved a little closer to the Hobbit.


“ are Bilbo.”


“Yes, I am he.” Bilbo shrugged off his coat and jacket, unbuttoned his waistcoat and untucked the back of his shirt and revealed to the dragon his own name. “Bilbo Baggins, at you service.”


The dragon gazed at him as though he was the most precious thing in this world. Smaug sat up, almost like a dog and unfurled his winged arm where Bilbo's own name printed in bold at the bottom of his wing. Bilbo smiled, letting out a sigh of happiness and relief! Smaug dropped his arm and lowered his head to look at the Hobbit. “I cannot believe this. You're here.”


“Yes, Smaug. It's me.” Bilbo wasn't sure but he thought he heard a low purr leave Smaug's throat. Was the dragon happy? Smaug moved his head and soon Bilbo found himself pressed against the spot of Smaug's snout and eyes. The Hobbit felt his heart quicken as he felt his soulmate's touch and he drew his arms around the dragon's snout as best he could.


“My little mate.” the dragon purred. “You've come to find me, at long last.”


“Yes, Smaug.” The Hobbit said, drawing back a little. “I came from the Shire, just to be here.”


“The Shire? So far away. My little mate, my dearest've come a long way.”


“I have but worth it coming to see you. After all, these years.”


“It's been too long, my dear Bilbo.” then the dragon's golden eyes narrowed. “Why do you smell like dwarf?”


“I...I've been travelling with them. They chose me as their burglar to recover the Arkenstone. I only went along with them on their quest to meet you, to find you. I don't want any part in their quest.”


Smaug purred and a smile came on his face. “I believe you, my dear Bilbo. I'll get rid of them and then you and I get to know another.”


Bilbo smiled and watched as Smaug flexed his wings and flew up in the air to hunt down Thorin and his company.


Chapter Text

Animal – Lady Gaga:


You have got a wild side

you're an animal tonight

I see that you are my type

wild like a tiger

hunting your prey

we'll keep the neighbours up all night

hot in the jungle

exotic apparel




Shere Khan was possibly the only tiger in these parts. These lands were not as hot as his old home land but still hot. It was nothing like his old home which was full of old ruined temples that once belonged to man, trees that covered nearly every inch of the land, flowers and fruit galore. It was just endless land of heat. He had come across a pride on exploration. He hadn't gone near them, jut saw them from a distance and then he'd moved off. He'd settled off in a small quiet place that he hopefully would get some peace when he'd noticed two other lions he'd never seen before walk over to the pride. Shere Khan watched as the two lions came over to the pride and could see a converse between them. Soon, the lions then left and headed over to the river nearby. He watched as they crossed the river, which was dry and headed over to the other side of the river. It's land seemed almost barren.


The tiger became intrigued by this action and watched from his place as the lions headed over to where their pride awaited them.


For days, the tiger watched the two lion prides joined together occasionally and then depart. There was one time where Shere Khan had witnessed three of the lions conversed in a fight before an old lioness broke them up. Shere Khan watched as the lion, who had been involved in the fight and had come off worse, limp off after his pard. Shere Khan kept his eyes on the lion and smile came on his face. He hoped that he would met that lion someday.




Fleck was beginning to regret his decision of living with the wanderers. The lionesses wouldn't give him a chance and Dark was pushing him beyond breaking point. Fleck had had enough. The lion padded over to the other side of the river where Suki and her pride were settled. Fleck didn't bother going to them. He saw no point. He walked over to another part, passed where Suki and the pride sat. Out of the corner of his eye, Fleck noticed movement and he looked over to see...a tiger!? What was a tiger doing all the way out here? The tiger was lounging in the sun on it's side, it's tail twitching in the heat. He drew near to the animal and cleared his throat, making the tiger start and sit up.


“Oh, hello there.” the tiger cooed, playfully.


Fleck felt a slightly quick of pace in his heart as he heard the tiger's smooth and baritone voice. “H-h-hello.”


The tiger shifted in his place until he was looking up at Fleck.


“You're the lion, I saw the other day.” he said.


“I was?”


“Yes, you went over with another lion to that pride of lions over there.”


“Yes, well, I went with Dark--.”


“Who's Dark?”


“A member of my pride.” Fleck explained. “But things got out of hand.”


“I saw. You were limping as you left.”


“Hey, there were two of them! It was unfair.”


“Of course, it was.” the tiger cooed like a mother would to her young cub. Fleck couldn't help but bristle at the tiger's mockery. “I fought off against man before and killed them in minutes.”


Fleck gulped. He now had a strong urge to run but his legs failed him. The tiger slowly got up and moved towards him as Fleck was a small minded prey. Fleck couldn't help but notice the way the tiger moved. It was almost elegant several even. He also saw that there was a hunger in his eyes. Like...


“What's your name?” the tiger asked, as he began to circle Fleck.




“Fleck, an unusual name. I'm Shere Khan.”


“'s yours.” Fleck laughed.


“Yes, well I came a different land. We have more exotic names there.”


“Really? How for have you come from?” Fleck asked, turning his head this way and that to keep on eye on Shere Khan.


“A long way.” Shere Khan said. “Tell me about your pride, Fleck, what business do you have with that other pride?”


As Shere Khan spoke, the tiger's tail flickered up and trailed under Fleck's chin, making the lion slightly weak.


“We-eeell, it's a long story, actually.”


“Do tell.” the tiger said, settling himself in front of Fleck. “I have all the time in the world.”


Fleck sighed. “You better make yourself comfortable, then.” and Fleck told his story how his mother had been killed by the wanderers making him an orphan, how Suki's mother had took him in as an adoptive mother and of how he'd tried to win over Suki but failed and then during the time when Suki had left the pride and the wanderers, Fleck had secretly joined the wanderers and that they wanted to make peace with the other pride but Suki and her pride would have none of it.


“Mmm,” Shere Khan said, after Fleck was done. “I know how you feel there, my dear friend. I was after a man cub for a long time. To sink my teeth into his flesh....and tear him limb from limb, but he escaped me. He had help, of course, and I was out-numbered.”


“Well, that doesn't seem fair.” Fleck said, settling down on the lush grass in front of Shere Khan.


“It wasn't and neither was your deal.” then the tiger's eyes narrowed. “You know, you and I would make a great team. We would be able to make a world of our own, take what we want, when we want it. We wouldn't never be alone.”


“But...I have that life...with the wanderers.” Fleck couldn't believe what he was saying. He'd wanted out of the wanderers' pride for a while now. What was he doing?


“Oh, but I don't think you mean that, dear Fleck.” the tiger purred (no pun intended). “I can see in your eyes that you're lying. You want to be free from your pride. Those 'wanderers' are not your true family. They never have been. Your mother may have been killed and your father doesn't know a thing about you, but you won't be alone anymore...and you'll be accepted.”


“W-who by?” Fleck stammered.


“Me.” and with that Shere Khan pounced on the young lion, knocking him down on to his back. Fleck yelped in surprise. He tried to get up by Shere Khan's weight pinned him down.


“What-what you doing?” he growled. “Get off.”


Shere Khan ignored him and began to bite on Fleck's ear making him gasp out in pleasure. Oh, why did his ears have to be so sensitive?!


“You want me, don't you, little lion?” the tiger whispered.


Fleck whimpered and felt a stirring in between his hind legs. A soft chuckle escaped Shere Khan's lips.


“Your body says different.”


“Please.” Fleck whimpered.


“'Please' what?”


“Stop torturing me! Do it.”


A smile came up on the tiger's lips. “As you wish, my dear lion.......”


Chapter Text



Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered – Lady Gaga:


Oh, I lost my heart

but what of it

he is cold I agree

they can laugh but I love him

and so the laugh's on me




Have you ever looked at the world and thought about the things that don't go well together? Oil and water. Nature and hay fever, allergies...even fire and earth.


Actually, that one's a lie. Because fire and earth go very well together. So much so that they go hand in hand with one another. Literally!


Smaug the fire god and father of all dragons was created by the divine creator, The Unknown God. He was born from a large red and golden egg that been placed in the volcanic mountains of fire and brimstone. A week later, he'd been hatched and born a fully fledged immortal Fire Drake. Smaug was decreed by the King of the Gods and Goddesses to be the god of fire.


Bilbo had been born of the earth nymph, Belladonna, and the old earth god, Bungo. When Bungo disappeared from the earth, Bilbo was introduced as the new god of the earth, nature, seasons and the animals. He'd also been given a home in the Heavens with his mother.


When Bilbo had become of age, the young god had gone out travelling along the cities of his old homeland. His mother had lived on Middle Earth and had given birth to him on Middle Earth. Middle Earth had been his playground and the only heritage of his father that he now possessed and then moved to the Immortal Paradise when the King asked him to live there. Bilbo took his travels by exploring the old lands of the Elves, Trolls, Dwarves, Wring Wraiths and men. After hearing of the spoils that ran across his father's home and creation, Bilbo decided to take action. He had fooled Trolls with his riddles and quick wit. He'd killed spiders, that had disobeyed his word, with his trusty elven blade, Sting, that his father had left him. Befriended giant eagles that had belonged to a wizard named Radagast – being the god of animals had it's perks. His last visit took him to the city of Erebor which was a neighbouring city of Dale and Laketown. The city of Erebor was the home of dwarves, but because of royal dwarren family had become tyrants, the dwarves had left the kingdom, leaving the city almost empty.


Bilbo entered the city of Erebor, hoping for a long rest and the best hospitality. The walls were tall, at least forty times the size he was. Bilbo walked inside the underground city, looking round for anyone who would show him around. But there wasn't. Bilbo had a good mind to reprimand the dwarves for not noticing his presence sooner. As Bilbo walked down a large of stairs, he heard sounds of footsteps, running. He looked up around him but could see no one. What game were this dwarves playing? Bilbo willed his magic to come forth so that he was ready for an ambush. Bilbo then heard another sound and he looked round to see a shadow running from one of the levels of the city. Bilbo transformed himself into a golden eagle and flew up towards the level. As he reached the marble railing, the god found that the shadow had gone. Was this a trap? Bilbo swooped back down to head out of the city but...


He was hit!


He fell to the ground, suddenly transforming back into his godly form and tumbled along the ground, before coming to a stop. He heard jeers of triumphs and praises, footsteps and muffled flurry of orders. He moved his head and opened his eyes. His vision was blurred but he could see that someone was standing over him. A dwarf with dark hair and beard. Bilbo heard him yell out an order but Bilbo wasn't sure what the words were. He was weak, why was he feeling like this? Gods were never weak. What had these dwarves done to him? Before he could find out, Bilbo's vision went black.


But a raven, a symbolic animal to the god, saw this and flew to the Heavens to tell the tragic news.




Smaug was relaxing in the heat of his volcanic home. He'd been out hunting and had had his fill for the day. He was hoping to have a long sleep after his busy days...


But that wasn't meant to be, as a raven came into his home and cawed relentlessly. Smaug growled and looked up at the raven.


“What news?”


“O, great dragon, Smaug. The King of the Gods had requested your presence.”


“On account of what?” Smaug asked.


“Bilbo the earth god has gone missing.”


Smaug's eyes widened. He hurriedly got to his feet flexed his winged arms and flew off to the home of the gods with the raven in tow. In a matter of seconds, Smaug arrived in the Palace of the Gods. His fellow immortals backed away from the sight of him as he walked by. The gods feared him as one of the most dangerous gods to live. He climbed up the stairs inside the palace. He soon reached the large marble throne room, where Mycroft sat with his husband, Greg, on his lap. Smaug reached the middle of the hall and his body shifted by the swipe of his wings and he stood as a human. With wild curly dark hair, his cheek bones sharp as ice, his eyes like liquid gold and cat like slits as pupils. His wings and tail stayed the same with his dragons horns that rested on his head half buried in his dark locks. On his skin lay patches of red scales with a tinge of gold mixed in. Mycroft smiled down at the god.


“Glad you could make it, Smaug.” he said, coolly.


A low growl left Smaug's throat. “What is happening, Mycroft? Why have I been summoned here, and what is this news that Bilbo has gone missing?”


“Well,” Mycroft said, easing his husband off his lap, getting to his feet and walked over to the fire god. “A raven told us and a distraught Belladonna that Bilbo had gone out to explore the world. The raven told us that he'd gone to Erebor.”


Smaug's eyes widened. “Erebor? The fool! Why would be go there?”


“Sherlock deduced that because of the Dwarf King, Thròr, had become a tyrant and cast out most of his people, Bilbo thought it best to deal with the king. The raven told us that the Dwarf prince, Thorin had hit the god with magic, a magic so powerful that it was able to weaken Bilbo. He is their prisoner, Smaug.”


Smaug felt his heart beginning to break. To crack slightly. A single splinter. He'd watched Bilbo from afar. Since the old earth god, Bungo and his nymph wife, Belladonna had brought their son to the Heavens. There he'd met the gods and even bumped into Smaug of whom Bilbo had found him to be an awesome being. He had not been afraid of him. Since then, Smaug had kept a watchful eye on the god...and, now, he'd failed him.


“What...where did the magic come from? How was it possible that magic so strong can easily bring down a god?”


“We do not know.” Greg said, stepping down from the throne. “We've alerted Islington on the matter and he says that he's never heard of such magic.”


“And why am I here?”


Mycroft smiled. “Simple. I've known that you've always like dear Bilbo. I can see in your eyes and from your silence before that you care.”


Smaug did not even bother denying it. He did care for Bilbo and he didn't care who thought different.


“You want me to save him?”


Mycroft nodded. “Yes, bring him safely home. Belladonna is worried sick.”


Smaug looked out of the window at the slowly setting sun. Arthur was slow tonight. “Where is Belladonna? I must tell her that she needn't fear anymore.”


“She's in her home, being tended by John.” Greg said.


Smaug nodded and left the palace and hurried to Belladonna's cottage home. As Greg had told him, Belladonna was found in the company of John and looked as though she was just calming down from her hysteria. Sherlock was standing by the window, looking out. Smaug probably guessed that he was deducing. But it wasn't Sherlock's job to know, now, it was Smaug's. The dragon god stepped into the room. Belladonna and John looked up at the newcomer.


“Belladonna...” Smaug started but didn't get anywhere as the nymph started hysterically sobbing again and leapt to her feet. She pulled him into a tight hug. Smaug felt the air leave his body. “Belladonna...please, loosen your grip.” When she did, John came over and brought her back to the armchair. Smaug moved over to the still crying nymph. “Belladonna, Bilbo will be safe. He is a strong immortal.”


“Smaug, please...rescue him, do something. He's the only family I have left in this world. That babe of mine is the only thing that reminds me of his father.”


“I swear to you, in front of all these witnesses, that I will bring him home, safe and sound.”


The blonde haired nymph blinked through her tears and sniffed. “You will?”




“Oh...and thank you, Smaug.”


Smaug smiled, before pasting her gingerly on the hand before she gave him another hug. Smaug left the small hut of Belladonna, changed into his dragon form before flying back down to earth. His journey took him many days. As Smaug flew through the clouds, he noticed that the land was becoming barren. Plants, trees vegetation were slowly dying. The world was becoming a wasteland without Bilbo. Finally, he reached the mountain city of Erebor. He landed outside the home of the dwarves and changed into his human form. He threw on a travelling cloak that he conjure from thin air. When his body was covered, he walked over to the gate. Inside, there was no one in sight. Smaug took to the shadows, hiding himself from any vision. Still in cover of darkness, Smaug hurried through the halls of the palace, listening out for any signs of dwarf movement. After covering at least half of the palace, Smaug soon reached a doorway where an inscription lay on the door's stone. Smaug was unable to read the dwarvian language and could not care less whether he could or couldn't read it. Slowly, he pushed the door open and found a small tunnel that ended in a flight of stairs. He drew near the end and a sight met his eyes.


A huge hoard of gold lay in the mountains and mountains of gold, rubies, jewels, sapphires, trinkets of every description lay there. Were these dwarves thieves as well as tyrants? Had they stolen from their own people? Smaug looked round and saw in the middle of the room sat a throne. On the throne sat King Thròr, looking greedy and malicious, as he gazed proudly at his wealth – stolen wealth. Around the throne stood fifteen dwarves. Smaug recognised two to be Thròr's son, Thrain and his grandson, Thorin. If there was one thing Smaug detested it was greed.


Now, where was Bilbo? Smaug scanned the giant hall and looked up into the rafters. His golden eyes widened as he found the earth god, sitting miserably in a constructed cage. Smaug felt his inner dragon roar inside of him with unimaginable fury at seeing the god locked up. He moved back into the tunnel and tried to think of a way that he would be able to get to Bilbo in time before the dwarves made their move. Suddenly, there was movement and Smaug looked round to see a white haired and bearded dwarf. They stared at one another, but Smaug saw red, stalked forwards, grabbed the dwarf by the throat and hoisted him out of the tunnel, before the dwarf could make a sound.


“Hush up.” Smaug growled. “You are in the presence of a god. Think twice before lying to me.”


The dwarf nodded.


“Now, tell me why you are keeping Bilbo hostage?”


“It...i-i-i-it was all Thorin's idea. He and his father and grandfather want more gold. The treasure of Erebor is all their after. They figured that with an earth god, they might be able to recover some of the gold. They think there could be more.”


“And is there?”


“I'm not sure. I swear I have no idea.”


Smaug growled in his throat. He had a good kill the dwarves right now. Suddenly, there was squeaking sound and Smaug looked down to see a small brown mouse, sitting at him feet. He let go of his the dwarf and knelt down. He held out his clawed hands, allowing the mouse to climb into his hands.


“My Lord Smaug,” the mouse squeaked. “My master, Lord Bilbo, has asked me to send you a warning.”


“What is it, my small friend?”


“The dwarves have magic, terrible magic that can bring down even the mightiest of gods. But there is a weakness that the creator of this magic never though about.”


“Tell me.”




Bilbo shivered in the cold breeze that blew in the room. The warmth seemed to leave his cage. He still didn't know what magic had made him so weak. Bilbo shifted with the strength he could muster so that he could listen to what the dwarves were saying.


“How long was that magic supposed to last on a god?” said a voice.


“He never said.” said another. “But as long as that god doesn't muster enough strength to turn into another form, we will be out of the woods. Luckily, he'll be too weak to do so.”


Bilbo sighed. The dwarf was right he had no energy or will to able to transform into another form but he was able to conjure a little magic. But what to use it for? Suddenly, the earth god noticed movement in the tunnels. He looked up and saw a figure moving back into the shadows. Someone had come to save him. He felt the air, feeling the presence along the marble floor that his salvation had walked across.


“Smaug,” he whimpered. Smaug had come. Bilbo shifted a little in the cage. He lifted his hands to his mouth and whispered.


Scurry, hurry, my little friend,

Scurry, scurry, scurry

to my salvation,

hurry and foretell my warning

of foul deeds, my little friend.”


As Bilbo spoke, green light swirled in his palms. It gathered in his palms and then a small brown mouse appeared in his hands. It squeaked as it ran it's tiny paws over its whiskers, ears and face and stared up at his master. Bilbo smiled down at the tiny creature.


“What do you request of me?” the mouse whispered.


“I need to deliver a message. There is a man in that tunnel over there. He is the lord of fire, and powerful dragon god, Smaug. Hurry as fast as you can and tell him these words.”


Bilbo then leaned in and whispered the message to the mouse. It nodded and scampered out of the cage, dancing up the cage chain and along the rafters and down a pillar. Bilbo hoped that the mouse would reach him in time. Bilbo looked down towards his captors. He saw that the dwarves had finished talking and were heading out of the hall, strapping on their armours and sheathing their weapons. As Bilbo watched them leave, the nature god felt the ground begin to tremble. Suddenly, the tunnel shattered with a loud roar and Smaug appeared in his true form – a dragon! The debris clattered amongst the treasure, dust flew everywhere Smaug roared in anger. He glared down at the dwarves, who stared up at the dragon god.


“You.” the god snarled. “Dare kidnap a deity. You...pieces of FLITHS!”


The last words shook the hall, making Bilbo's cage swing violently.


“You will pay dearly.” Smaug snarled as the fire in his lungs began to bubble and boil. With one exhale, a burst of fire escaped Smaug's lips. It hurtled towards the dwarves who turned tail and ran. But, unfortunately, one of the dwarves wasn't so lucky to escape the blast of fire. The rest of the dwarves scattered and Bilbo noticed two of them scaling the large pillars.


“Smaug!” Bilbo called.


Smaug looked up at Bilbo and this gave him the encouragement to push on. The large red dragon climbed it's way down the almost destroyed stairs as three dwarves shot arrows at the god. The arrows were nothing more than pesky flies to the fire god as he blocked them with a beat of his wing. Smaug was too powerful. The god moved again and he knocked into one of the pillars causing it to topple into another and they both fell crashing another pair of dwarves. Smaug roared again and he exhaled another stream of fire, this time charcoaling most of the dwarves, including Thròr and Thrain. Thorin was the only one left. He'd been able to see Smaug's attack but not be able to save his family. He managed to stay in cover as he moved skilfully over to Smaug who was still searching for the last dwarf. Bilbo moved to the cage bars, held his arm out and concentrated.


“Hey!” he called. Thorin and Smaug looked up towards the prisoned god and with a single thought, a blast of magic shot towards Thorin, who was thrown off his feet, and landed painfully in the pile of gold. Smaug let out a low chuckle as he stalked towards the dwarf, like a tiger after it's prey.


“Burn, dwarf.” Smaug said before engulfing the black haired male in flames. Thorin's screams echoed in the hall.




Bilbo fell safely in the arms of Smaug, who had transformed into his human form. Smaug had been able to cut down the cage safely and eventually freed Bilbo.


“Oh, thank you, Lord Smaug. Thank you for saving my life.”


“It was a pleasure, Lord Bilbo. A high honour if I may say.”


“You can.” Bilbo said, moving in and hugging the fire god. He sighed, basking in the warmth that radiated from the god.


“My dear Bilbo. You have been greatly missed. It's time to take you home.”


“Of course, but first...there's something I must do to reward my saviour.”


Smaug raised an eyebrow and watched as Bilbo leaned in and kissed the fire god on the lips.


Now, Smaug and Bilbo live in the city of Erebor, amongst the gold and the dwarren people were allowed them to with frequent visits and worship. They found that living in the mountain again would bring back horrible memories of King Thròr's terrible reign. But Bilbo assured them that they would live in peace. So, the city of Dale and Laketown allowed them to live in their lands with open arms. Belladonna was more than happy when Bilbo returned and accepted Smaug as her son-in-law when Smaug announced that they were to be wed. She was a little unsure about her son moving away but accepted it and Smaug said that she could visit when possible. So, I guess opposites do attract.






My Immortal – Evanescence:


I'm so tired of being here,

Suppressed by all my childish fears

and if you have to leave

I wish that you would just leave

'Cause your presence still lingers here

and it won't leave me alone




Islington the Angel Lord of the Underworld never considered the possibilities of emotions. He was a cold deity and had no time of anything other than to judge the souls of the dead and give out his contempt for those who had committed sin against the gods and to their fellow kind. Islington had grown tired of it all and wanted time away. So, he left his fellow underworld gods in charge until he returned. He walked up to the earth's surface and was bathed in sunlight. Islington flexed his black wings and hid them from prying eyes, casting a spell over them. He didn't want to be noticed by mortals – most gods didn't. The god walked on through the forests, meadows, fields and plains until he came to a small cottage where two men sat outside. One of them was wrapping a bandage around the other arm. He watched as the man finished up his work, thanked him and left. Islington watched as the healer packed up his things and got to his feet. The healer then noticed and stared at him.


“Hello, there. Are you in need of some medicine?”


Islington raised an eyebrow. “Do I look as though I'm ill or wounded?”


A pink tinge came up on the healer's cheeks. “S-sorry. It's a habit, sir. I did not mean to cause offence.”


Islington smirked. “It's fine. I'm never one to feel offended by anything.”


The healer raised an eyebrow. “Really?”


Islington nodded and came to sit by the healer. “What is your name?”


“My name is Williams. And yours?”


Islington knew that if he told this mortal his name then mortals would overhear and come crawling on their knees to speak with him but there was something that made Islington say...


“I am Islington.”


. . . . .




Williams' eyes widened. “Oh, my...I beg your pardon, my lord. I had no--.”


“Shut up, I don't want your 'humble words' or your 'appraisal'. I've just come up here to get away from being in the Underworld. I don't need mortals surrounding me and begging me to let them see their departed loved ones.” then the god raised an eyebrow at Williams. “Unless...”


“Oh, no. I wouldn't want to see my family.”


Islington blinked. “Why is that?”


“My family disowned me when they found out that I wanted to get into a profession that they didn't want me to be a part of.”


Islington humphed. “Well, usually I disapprove of this profession but I learn to respect his proposition.”




“Your Lord, of course. Lord John, he of the healing arts and medicine. He told me that not all things can be cured.”


“Yes, I once learned the hard way with a woman I was caring for.”


“You did?”


“Yeah, made me realise how fragile our lives are. Well, mortal ones anyway. She was giving birth to twin girls and died two hours later. The father gets along by himself with the girls thankfully.”


Islington hummed. “I think I understand whom you're talking about.”






Islington had found the mortal, Williams, intriguing to say the least. The things that Islington had thought about and casually brushed aside, was what Williams had discussed. So, mortals and gods thought about the same thing. Life, hope, love, death, heart break and happiness. Islington had also liked how passionately Williams talked about his profession. True with Islington being the god of the dead, he would have disapproved of such thoughts but with Williams it was different. How he was able to quickly heal a wound and cure the sick when needed. The longer Islington stayed and talked with the mortal healer, the more Islington felt something towards him. The Underworld god decided to make a small visit to the doctor. He found the mortal outside the nearby temple of John and hurried over to him.


“Oh, my Lord.” Williams said, a red tinge coming up on his cheeks. “What brings you here?”


“I...I came to see you. I have no duties today.”


“Oh, I see. Um...well, I suppose I could do with company.”


“Yes. And there's something else I must tell you.”


“What is it?”


Islington was finding difficulty in the words he wanted to say so instead...he showed him. He leaned down and pressed his lips hard against Williams'.




Williams never thought he would be bedding a god. Never even thought about having a lover. He was often too busy healing people to have a...intimate life outside of his profession. He'd never thought that he would feel the gentle caresses of fingers on soft flesh, lips dancing with his own, hands travelling to touch, feel...a place of the body. Williams found that even the angelic god's wings were sensitive to touch. He had brushed the god's wings by accident, just to see what such wings felt like under his fingers. But found that the god LOVED the touch so Williams continued as the god pleaded. That was also something that Williams had never thought of...a god pleading with a mortal, for blissful pleasure. But there was more to the pleasures of the flesh than Williams thought would be involved in the relationship. Islington showed him the tricks of magic, showing him the basics of spells and finding that Williams seemed to be a natural as he was at healing. In return, Williams showed Islington how to heal, rather than using magic and power. Islington teased that he'd prefer using magic, causing Williams to scoff and press a kiss to the god's lips. Islington showed the mortal his underground kingdom. Williams had found it terrifying when he saw Helheim, the place where those who'd committed sins against the gods, so Islington took him away from there. Islington would also treat Williams to little trinkets from the Underworld's vaults. Days turned into weeks and weeks became months, and Williams and Islington found themselves becoming more and more in love as time went by.


As the months then became a year. The affair of the angel and the doctor was about to end...tragically. Hector the war god had started a war between two cities, Rivendell and Moria. So, allies had been called forth and men were recruited into joining the armies. Including Williams. The day before Williams went to battle, he visited Islington in his own temple and the god gave him a farewell that he would never forget. After spending hours of passion, intimacy, love and heartbreak, Williams left for battle. Islington waited and waited. Days turned into weeks. Weeks to months. Months into years...and years. Islington never forgot his beloved. Williams never forgot his dear immortal.


But one day Islington was judging souls.


“Bring in the next soul!” he ordered, hoping that he would get he day over with. A soul stepped forward. They wore a black ragged cloak with a hood over their face so it was impossible to see who it was.


“My friend,” he said. “Tell me of your story.”


“My lord, I was a humble healer. I did not live a good childhood as my family were never fair to me. But years and years ago, I found love with a man who was like no other.”


Islington stared at the soul. Why did his voice sound so familiar? The soul continued to speak.


“I prayed to my god, John the Healer, for my safety and for his. I wanted peace for both cities and so that my fellow soldiers would be with their families and loved ones.”


Islington sat up right in his throne, still staring at the soul.


“My friend...who exactly are you? Reveal yourself. Put down that hood.”


“My Lord. My darling god.” said the soul reaching up and pushing back the hood. “Do you not recognise me? Your healer?”


Islington felt his heart skip several beats. “Williams.” he breathed.


Williams' ghostly form was pale and across his face were splatters almost like mud. The cloak fell away to reveal a suit of pale silver armour and a bloody hole in his stomach that either a sword or spear had made.


“ can't be. That...”


“I'm afraid it is, my Lord Islington. I died on the battle field, trying to save a fellow soldier. Unfortunately, an Orc took his chance and killed me in cold blood.”


“ can't...I cannot allow this. You should be alive!”


“Islington...” Williams said but the god did not listen.


“This judgement is over!” he ordered. “Everyone leave now!”


All of the gods and ghostly forms disappeared leaving the two lovers alone.


“Come, my darling. Come to me.”


Williams moved forward and soon the long lost lovers embraced each other, the angel's black wings closing around them, hiding them from view. Islington suddenly felt the long ache in his heart be filled again with joy! Endless joy, he never wanted to go away. His lover was here. Finally here! Oh, how long he had waited for this moment!


“Islington.” Williams said, his voice cracking. “Please. I know what you want to do.”


“Exactly.” Islington said. “I will do this for us. You, my dearest, will live again.”


“Islington, you can't. Magic does not work like that. You know that!”


“I am the god of magic and I will make it happen!”


“Islington. Do not defy fate.” Williams said, coming closer to the god. “She will get the better of you. One way or another.”


“Don't you want to be with me? I was going to have you as my husband. For you to rule by my side and make you immortal.”


“Fate had other ideas.” Williams said, laying a cold hand on the god's cheek. “I'll still be with you, Islington. But definitely not alive.”


“No...I can't.”


Williams placed a cold hand on the god's cheek. “Islington, my god, my beloved. Accept it. No magic will be able to repair the damage. What's done is done. I'll still be here, Islington.”


Islington sighed, leaning into the touch, savouring in his lover's touch. Then something clicked into place. The god's eyes glowed with darkness, like a shadow coming to life of its own accord! “No...but I know there's only one person to blame for this.”


And Islington disappeared into a cloud of black fog. The god soon reappeared in the throne room of the Heavens, startling everyone in the room. He glanced round and spotted Hector, who was walking into the room with Peter. Islington's eyes narrowed. It was all his fault.


“Hector!” He bellowed.


The war god looked towards the angelic god in surprise. Islington strode forwards and conjured a sword in his hand. As he drew near, he raised his sword and took a swipe, of which Hector dodged. The war god drew his own sword and pushed Peter away.


“What's the matter, now, Islington?” he cat called. “You gone soft, now.”


“It's all your fault.” he snarled.


“What is?”


“You caused this. It is your fault that he is dead. You...DAMN YOU!”


And Islington swung again, black energy and shadows, bursting and dancing around the god, making him look more threatening then he was! Hector moved and deflected the attacks easily. The gods screamed and some of the back away, trying to escape the flail. Islington pressed slashing and swinging his swords and parrying Hector's attack, trying to hard to make his blade scrape at the war god's skin or better yet, wound him. Islington soon spotted an opening but before he could, a voice bellowed out.




Everyone looked round and saw Mycroft standing in the doorway of the throne room, his brother and John behind him.


“You are immortal deities, not petty children.” he scolded. “Act as such.”


The two gods stepped away from each other. Peter immediately hurried to Hector's side whilst shooting a nasty look at Islington. Mycroft turned to look at the Underworld god.


“What is the matter with you? Why have you decided to attack a god in our home?”


Islington was silent for a few moments before speaking. “He is to blame. He killed him. I loved that man above all else.” then he pointed a pale finger to Hector. “And he is to blame. He started this war with the Orcs. Had it not been for him, Williams would be”


And he slammed his sword into the floor. The marble was instantly pierced, causing a small fissure of cracks to appear, making the gods cry out in fear. With a beat of his wings, Islington disappeared from the heavens, leaving a deafening silence behind.




Islington had sulked for hours, standing outside the domain of where the purist soul lived after the death. He watched from his hiding place as Williams strode elegantly as children danced around him. Time and time again, Islington had used spells to bring him back to life. But nothing worked. Apparently, no spell could re-awaken the dead. Not even the goddess of spring, Molly, could fathom Williams' return. But she did say that in time, Williams would most likely be reborn and when that time came, Islington would search for him and fall in love in the same fashion.


Only time would tell.






When the Day Met the Night – Panic! At the Disco:


When the moon fell in love with the sun

all was golden in the sky,

all was golden when the day met the night,

When the sun found the moon

she was drinking tea in a garden

under the umbrella trees

in the middle of summer




Khan was a god of the moon, darkness and a bringer of night. He was not a god to be trifled with, he had a temper on him and was known to be the best of the best. He was a better fighter than Hector, had keener eyesight than Peter, he was practical thinker like Sherlock. Sherlock, Smaug and Julian were his only companions. For Khan, this didn't seem enough.


One day, Khan had just finished allowing day to enter and drew in the moon and night. He came back to the heavens and thought about his sleeping his chambers. He crossed to the east wing of the palace and noticed something he'd never come across before. It was a grove. Willow trees hung round the grove like a wall or nature's own curtains. Small statues of a man and a woman with animals scattered around them, frozen in marble splendour. In front of the statues sat a god...drinking from a small delicate china cup. The god had short red-brown hair, sky blue eyes and he wore a green ragged, tuffed up dressing down and a white and blue stripped towel round his neck. Khan stared in awe at the god before him. His beauty made the moon god's heart skip several beats. The god before him took a sip of tea but realising that he was being watched. Khan was usually one not to be caught as he was known to keep himself secure in the shadows and not be found. But Khan had left himself out in the open. The god looked over to where Khan was standing. The god almost looked surprise to see Khan there...and Khan wasn't doing anything except stand there. Finally, the god broke his surprise and smiled.


“Hello, there.”


Khan said nothing...except stare.


“Who are you? I don't think I've seen you here before.”


Nothing again.


What the hell was wrong with him? The dark haired male continued to stare.


“What's matter? The red head asked. “Cat got your tongue?”


Khan opened his mouth...but said nothing again. The god smiled. He vanished from his seat and reappeared in front of Khan. Khan started like a frightened cat. The god laughed.


“Would you like some tea? I've got a hot tea pot full.”


Khan stuttered a reply. The god's smile faltered a little. In a fit of panic, Khan vanished in swirl of stars and shadows. He soon found himself in his dark marble home, wondering what had just happened.




Arthur stared at the now empty space. What had just happened? Why had the god just vanished without a word or introduction? Maybe he wasn't feeling well. Arthur sighed. It had been the only new company he'd had in years. Well, being the god of the sun and daytime had it's limitations. He always saw the same familiar faces everyday after bringing the sun up, afterwards he would settled down with a nice up of tea and be visited by Bilbo and John. Although, today it would just be John as Bilbo was away, travelling.


Suddenly, Arthur remembered his tea and hurried back to his table before the tea got cold. He sat back down, raised the cup to his lips and took a sip...




Arthur sighed. Suddenly, he heard movement. He looked round, hoping it was the god he'd been before...but it wasn't. It was John with...


“Oh, hello, John..and Sherlock what a surprise.”


Sherlock sent Arthur a questioning look as he and John came to sit down. “What's a surprise? That I'm here. I didn't come here willingly.”


“I'm sure you did.” Arthur said, with a smile and a knowing wink to John. “Tea?”


“Love some.” gasped John as he and Sherlock sat down.


Arthur poured the tea and allowed the other two, to add what they like to their tea. Without warning, the image of the strange god appeared in his mind. He shook it off, knowing that he couldn't think about the god right now. But Sherlock, being Sherlock, already knew that something was wrong.


“You're troubled, aren't you?” he asked.


Arthur froze and looked to the wisdom god. “W-what?”


“What happened?” Sherlock asked, a little sharp.


“I...well...something really weird yet interesting happened.”


“What was it?” John asked.


“You met someone.” Sherlock said, bluntly as always.


Arthur stared at Sherlock as John stared at the sun god. “How did you--? Actually, never mind.”


“So, who was it?” John asked, intrigued.


“Well, that's the thing, I don't know who it was. I've never seen this god before.”


“What did he look like?”


“Pale skin, cold ice blue eyes, dark hair, tamed and smoothed back. Looked like Sherlock...except that god knows how to hold his tongue.”


Sherlock's eyes widened as John laughed. The wisdom god then decided to focus his attention on the tea cup. John stepped in.


“I think you've just met Khan.”




“Yes, the god the night, shadows and the moon. It's understandable that you don't know him, it's not often he comes out into the daylight but when he does, it's a rare sight.”


“Khan. The god of the...”


“Moon and night, yes.”


“Wow, I guess opposites do attract.”


Sherlock harrumphed. “Of course, they do.” the curly haired god yelped as John, casually stepped on his lover's foot. Arthur smiled into his cup and barely listened to what John was telling him, as he continued to think about the god of night.




Khan gazed out of the window and stared into the sky. The sun was glowing brightly today. Khan found it quite beautiful. It reminded him of that god he'd met the other day. Khan blinked and looked away, his thoughts running round in his mind. Where had that god vanished to? Why had Khan not seen him? Who exactly was he?


“You're quiet.”


Khan looked over to see Julian, sitting cross legged, fiddling with some weird technology that he had concocted.


“What is it to you if I am?” Khan growled. He heard Julian give a slight scoff.


“You know that I know you too well. Well, actually Sherlock is the one who knows you too well. And besides when you're quiet, you're thinking.”


Khan narrowed his eyes and then continued to stare out the window? “How is that air nymph of yours doing?”


“What, Oliver? He's fine, why do you ask?”


“No reason. You seem to be very well...committed, you two.”


“Okay, Khan, please stop! Either you've been in the company of Sherlock for too long or...” suddenly, the white haired blonde went quiet, trailing off his words. Khan looked over to his friend. Julian was looking at him in shock.




“You've met someone? You?”


Khan raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon.”


“I'm sorry, Khan, to say this of all people?”


“Have you looked in the mirror as of late?” Khan spat.


Julian sighed. “I know, I know. Anyway, who is this person?”


“I think...he was a god.”


“What did he look like?”


Khan told him. “And he was...drinking tea in a small grove.”


“Oh,” said Julian. “That was Arthur.”




“Yes, the god of the day and sun.”


“No wonder I haven't met him before.”


Julian scoffed. “That's what happens. Look how long it took for me to find Oliver and for Mycroft to find Greg.”


“True. But he was mortal before Mycroft found him and made him immortal.”


“I know it's true. I am the god of truth.”


“So, you keep reminding us.” Sherlock said, stepping into the room.


Julian glared. “Well, you all seem to forget that.”


Sherlock rolled his eyes before looking over at Khan, who was still standing by the window. “So, I hear from a little sun bird that you met a fellow god today.”


Khan's eyes narrowed in his typical irate scare that was enough to scare any rabid beast. “Is this all my life is now? A laughing joke?”


“Never said it was, Khan.” Sherlock said, moving to go and sit down beside Julian, who had gone back to tinkering with his new fangled technology. “Arthur seemed...quite taken with you.”


Khan's posture soon changed. “He-he did?”


A smile came on Sherlock's lips. He'd just baited him.




A couple of days later, Arthur found himself sitting in his garden, drinking tea. He was enjoying his quiet time, relaxing with a big cup of tea. He always had a cup tea after raising the sun and making sure that it moved accordingly, through out the day. True, he was often awake through the day and slept during the night as most people did, but last night, Arthur had stepped out of his quarters to gaze up at the moon. To see Khan. It had been an amazing sight. Seeing the moon full and glowing bright like a silver white flame hovering the sky, the stars dotted around it like fireflies. Arthur had loved seeing the darkness and the nightlife. He found it quite appealing seeing the world in a new light, per say. But Arthur had been disappointed as he did not see Khan, completing his duties during the night.


Suddenly, Arthur's thoughts were interrupted when he heard movement. Arthur put down his tea and looked over to where the commotion had started. Then his eyes widened. There was...




The night god looked over to Arthur, as though startled. “Oh, I am sorry. I'd...I had forgotten you where here.”


“It's quite all right, Lord Khan.” Arthur said.


“ know my name?”


“Yes. I am good friends with Lord Sherlock and his lover, John.”


“And Sherlock told me about you.” the night god said, moving forwards to join Arthur.


“He did? Goodness, small world, is it not?”


“It is.” Khan said, standing before the sun god now. Arthur took a good look at the god. Khan's hair was black, as were his clothes, and was smoothed back. Tamed. His eyes were ice blue like Islington's or Sherlock's and held a sense of authority or command. There was something else, something that Arthur couldn't put his finger on. He wore black robes with a hint of silver on the arms. He wore a long black cloak that glittered like stars in the night sky. Fitting. Very fitting. Arthur smiled.


“Would you like some tea?” he asked, indicating one of the vacant chairs beside him.


Khan smiled. It looked genuine. “Happy to, my dear Lord Arthur.”


Arthur smiled and poured a cup as Khan took a seat.


Arthur and Khan enjoyed each other's company. Getting to know one another and talked about their childhoods and how they received the godly duties. They talked until it was near sunset and Arthur nearly forgot. He showed Khan how he did it and Khan showed his. With a delicate invitation, Arthur was allowed to come aboard Khan's chariot that was harnessed by six white tailed deer and saw the stars and bathed in the glow of the moon. But the night ended when John interrupted the moment, when they came back to earth, and told them of Bilbo being kidnapped by dwarves. Several days later, Khan and Arthur became lovers and married each other several years later.






But Beautiful – Tony Bennett & Lady Gaga:


love is tearful,

or its gay

it's a problem

or its play

it's a heartache

either way

but beautiful

and I'm thinking

if you were mine I'd never let you go

and that would be but beautiful

I know




All, the goddess of love and beauty, was an oddity in some eyes. Others found her to be unusual but some found her to be the greatest and was the most often to be praised. The reason for this oddity was because All was a man, dressed and changing herself to be a woman. Origins of All had stated she was born a man but stated to her worshippers that she was...'all' but clothed and presented herself as a woman. The gods and goddesses did not mind All once they got used to her choices in her immortal life, they came to her for advice on how to be beautiful as she was, on how they would find love as did mortals, who would pray for their loved one or soulmate to come to them. All would always be honest. Giving advice on how to pure their skin with different oils, make ups and of how they would find their soulmate. But there was something missing in the goddess' life.


A loved one.


The goddess had no lover. The gods had often wondered, mostly Mycroft and Greg, had wondered why All had not found herself a husband or wife to shower her with gifts and treat her with the up most respect.


Well, that chance came sooner than expected. All was tired, all most restless. So, she changed out of her night gown of red silk and changed into white dress with a fur shawl around her. She tied her hair back into a long braid, slipped her shoes on and stepped on to earth. Arthur's sun rays glowed on her skin, making her skin almost golden. She walked along the earth, wondering what to do, when she heard the snapping of twigs. She turned to look as a frightened looking deer bounded out of the trees. It noticed the goddess, knowing exactly who she was and scampered over to her for safety.


“What's wrong, little deer?” the goddess said, gently caressing the muzzle of the deer. The poor animal was shaking and nuzzled closer to the goddess. Then All looked back as a hunter came out of the bushes, the deer moved round trying to hide behind the goddess.


The hunter looked round before noticing the goddess. “Oh, sorry, dear maiden. But I lost track of my hunt and I'm sure it--.” then he noticed the deer, cowering behind All. “Found you.” he smirked, readying the bow in his hand. “If you wouldn't standing aside, my dear, you're hiding my feast.”


All's eyes burrowed at the hunter. How dare he speak this way! “I do not wish to step aside. This creature has done nothing to you. You must greatly insult Bilbo with your boastful talk.”


“I do not. I have never boasted my hunting skills, only to annoy my fellow comrades.”


“You may regret that, mortal. But no matter what you say, I am not stepping aside.”


“Please, I do have family to feed.”


All rolled her eyes. She turned to the deer, who looked up at her with wide eyes. “Run, you poor animal. Run to your family if you have such.” suddenly, there was a whistle like something flying through the air. All raised her hand and caught the arrow. The arrow head had badly grazed the goddess' flesh. The golden ichor that flowed in her veins, showed. The deer had scampered off to safety. All turned to glare at the hunter. He was staring at her with wide eyes, as though regretting his actions. The arrow was easily snapped in two with swift movements of her fingers and dropped to the ground.


“Excuse me.” All said and she walked away, leaving a deafening silence in her wake.


She soon appeared in one of her temples in Rivendell and rested there. Luckily, she had used her powers to hide herself so that she wouldn't be bothered. She could hear whispers of prayer in her ears but she waved them away like a small swarm of flies. She rested behind the colossal statue of herself and pulled off her fur shawl. She conjured up a goblet of wine and brought it to her lips. What a day!




Danny walked back to his village. His mind was reeling from what had happened before. Who was that woman he'd encountered? She had been very defensive on his ideal of shooting a creature who probably wouldn't have been missed? The hunter sighed and there he was being an idiotic fool again. That was the reason why Danny had gotten himself into so much bother with his family. Danny always did action first and then think, he never gave a second thought about what he did. Never considered of how rational he was being. Well, that was another woman off his bucket list that he would likely to not encounter again.


But still...who was she?


True, she had been beautiful. Very beautiful. Danny shook his head, clearing his mind of such thoughts and continued on his way, three rabbits now clutched in his hand.


But Danny's hunter instincts kicked in. He looked round and saw a stag prowling along and open lake. It looked round, it's ears twitching and then walked delicately over to the water's edge. Danny moved swiftly and prepared his bow with an arrow. He aimed it, drew the arrow back and fired. The stag let out a cry and collapsed. Danny took his chance and fired another one. The stag was dead once Danny had went to recover it. He cleaned his arrows and slid them and the bow into the quiver. He grabbed the stag's hind legs, grabbed the rabbits he abandoned and proceeded to walk when he came across a man. He wore brown robes and tanned leather boots. He had wore a clack of thick fur that looked as though it belonged to a bear. He had blonde hair and sky blue eyes. He did not look happy.


“Daniel.” the man spoke.


“It's Danny, actually.”


“Silence.” the man ordered. “You have insulted me, mortal.”


What is it with strange people calling him 'mortal'? First that woman and now this man.




Shit, Danny thought. That man was a...


Danny fell to his knees. “My Lord. I am truly sorry but I...”


“Hold your tongue.” the god snarled moving closer. “You have murdered one my sacred stags and now you will pay.”


“Please, my Lord. Spare me. I never meant to—no, no, no please!” Danny began to back away from the god as he drew his bow and aimed an arrow directly at Danny. “Drop the arrow. Please, my Lord, please.” The arrow was fired. Danny yelled as it pierced him in the chest. But it didn't kill him. Instead, he felt something happening to him. His whole body was changing. His hair grew longer and his clothes felt a couples sizes too small. Danny hurried to the lake and peered over. He cried, clambering at his face. Or rather, her face. Danny had transformed into a woman!


Danny looked round but found he was all alone. The god had vanished from sight. Danny looked back into the water. He had the same coloured eyes but his hair was no longer the short dark brown its was, it was in fact it was long and curly. He looked down at his own body and...


“By the gods!” he yelped. He had...women's breasts. He had...


Danny felt sick. In fact, he ended up vomiting in the lake's water.




All had finished her morning of relaxation and wandered out of her temple, wanting to go to back the Heavens. She moved elegantly along the path to head back to the small gateway that would lead her home. As she continued her way, she heard something. She looked round and heard the sound coming from the trees. She made herself visible, hoping to see if she could help who or what ever it could be. She pulled aside the branches and saw a female mortal. The girl was crying her eyes out, a quiver of arrows and a bow lay beside her. Her feet were bare and scratched. The poor mortal seemed to be in hysterics. All moved closer to her.


“My dear.” All said, softly.


The mortal started and looked up. She gazed in awe at the goddess. “”


All mentally sighed. Please tell me that she doesn't recognise me as a goddess! “It's all right, my dear. You do not need to--.”


“You''re that lady from before.”she squeaked.


All was confused. “I am sorry, my dear, but you have the wrong person. I have never seen you before. This is the first time I've seen you.”


“ don't recognise me?”


“I am sorry, but I don't.”


The mortal looked at All, as though realising something. “Of won't recognise me. Not in this state.”


“What are you talking about? Who exactly are you supposed to be?”


“I...I...oh,, I was...the hunter from before.”


All's expression changed from confusion to realisation to one of contempt. But then it changed and the goddess began to laugh. The mortal was now the one confused. All soon stopped laughing, and knelt down beside the female. “So, a god got the better of you, did they? Didn't I warn you?”


The female's face fell. “I suppose so.”


“Suppose? Good grief! So, this is what they'd done to you? I see. Well, you're obviously in need of help. Come, I'll take you to my chambers and I'll help you in the best way possible.”


The hunter now woman gave his small smile. “Thank you. May I know your name, good lady?”


“I am Lady All. And yours?”




All did take Danny to the heavens, and given him – no, her – the best clothes and made her look as though she was a nymph. All dressed her in a knee length, sky blue dress, with short sleeves. Healed her feet with a tonic given to her by John, and dressed them in gold sandals. All then put her hair into a messy low side bun.


“There. All is done.” the goddess said, turning Danny around so that he – she – could see herself in the marble framed mirror. Danny's eyes widened. “You look beautiful.”


“What have you--?”


“Do not worry, Danny. I've made you look to be one of my maidens. When the other gods find out you are, they won't go near you.”


Danny looked to the goddess. “You've had handmaiden's before?”


“Yes, unfortunately, they were all slaughtered during a great battle. They were caught in the crossfire. But you can pose as you for the time being.” All said, brushing a stray hair from Danny's temple.


“But what about the god that turned me like this?”


“Don't worry. I trust he won't be around.” All said. “Besides, we gods are busy. You mortals may not know this but we are. Before I found you, I was relaxing in my temple, overhearing the prayers of others, begging for a perfect life with their soulmate.”


“Yes, you being the goddess of love and all.”


“All is all.” All said, standing up and moving to her large wardrobe. “Well, mostly all. But I must say, my sweet Daniel.” the goddess said, flicking through her ensemble. “You make a very pretty girl.”


“I do not! And don't call me, Daniel.”


“That you do. I must say which ever god changed you into a lady, knew what he was doing.”


Danny glared at the goddess but she gave him a wry smile.


After changing into an red silk dress what flowed down to her feet and put her hair into a bun with a few strands of hair framing her face, All decided that she would take Danny out and introduce her to the gods...and maybe have a long bath to purify her skin and maybe give Danny one too. She handed him four fluffy white towels. Danny had been a little bit unsure to out in public but All convinced him otherwise. So, All and Danny did. Danny, timidly walking behind All, wringing his delicate hands, nervously. All walked in front with extreme gentility. A small girl with brown hair tied back, wearing a green skirt and a yellow floral shirt, saw All and waved to her.


“Hello, All.”


“Hello, Molly. How is Tom?” the goddess said, as she and Danny came lose.


Molly's smile faltered a little but sprang back into place. “Good...thanks.”


“Don't worry, Molly. There is a good reason why I chose you two to be together. He is what you've been looking for.”


Molly's smile became small. “If you say so.”


All smiled and brushed back the spring goddess' hair. “I do, being the goddess of love. And as the goddess of beauty, I do say that you look very, very pretty today.”


Then Molly's smile grew bigger. “Thank you, All.” Then she noticed Danny behind her. “Who-who's this?”


“Oh, this is...Danielle.”


Danny stared wide eyed at All. Molly missed and smiled graciously at Danny. “Nice to meet you.”


“And you.”


“Danielle is a water nymph. She has become one of my handmaidens.”


“I see. Well, I must get going. I need to find Tom.”


“Enjoy your day, my darling.” All said, as she and Danny moved away. When they were out of earshot, Danny hissed at All.


Danielle?! You cannot be serious!”


“Good name, my sweet little nymph. It's better than call you, Danny. The other deities will talk and word will spread of you hiding away here...”


Danny went a little quiet after this. They came down the steps which led to the courtyard of the large palace.


“So, how exactly is Molly?”


All glanced at Danny. “You really do not follow up on your deities do you?”


“Never had time. Been working to hard to support my family.”


“Well, that was Molly. She is the goddess of spring time.”


“And who is Tom?”


“Oh, Tom is a hero, who saved her from a life of heartache and torment.”


“What do you mean?”


“Well, Molly had mysteriously captured by these Wring Wraiths. Tom came across the scene and saved her. Love at first sight.”


“And what did you mean by heartache?”


“Oh, dear, sweet Molly has been pining after Sherlock for years, until she was saved by Tom. But the poor thing was in two minds when she found out that Sherlock had fallen in love with John.”


“How do you know all this? Did she tell you?”


“Danny,” All said, coming to a stop on the last stair. “Must I constantly remind you that I am the goddess of love? Of course, I would know. Goodness.”


Danny watched as All moved off again and hurried after her, trying not to lose her.




Danny felt traumatised. He'd just walked in to a gods' bath house and was greeted by, wet, steamed up, sweaty, naked gods, walking round swimming around inside. It had been truly embarrassing because Danny had kept his gaze furtively on the floor and tried not to make eye contact with the gods or nymphs that were there. Worse of it was, All had proceeded to take off all her clothes and Danny had scampered out like a frightened deer. Danny could easily remember the pale, smooth skin of the love goddess. There was no scar, nor scratches, no bruises, not even a blemish. Only a few freckles that dotted on the skin. Her long black hair flowed like a silken curtain as the red dress gracefully fell from her body, running along the curves on her too perfect body. The delicate way she held out her arm for the towel and of how elegantly she stepped in into the warm waters of the bath. A possible dimple in a certain...


Danny slapped his face, ridding his mind of such thoughts. He couldn't believe that he just thought about a goddess in such way. He felt as though he was offending the gods again. He couldn't think about All like that. Not after all she had done for him. Danny soon found himself in the gardens and rested by the large water fountain. He tried to catch his breath and clear his mind of All.


“Well,” purred a voice. “If I was in love with someone like that, I'd slap myself like that, too.”


Danny turned and stared. By the bushes in the garden, stood a woman. She was beautiful, yes, but as beautiful as All. She had brown hair that pulled into a bun, almost similar to the one All had given Danny. Her lips were parted with red and her eyes dazzled a sea blue. But it was her skin that caught Danny's eye. It was pale and it glistened moon bright and seemed to glitter and shine like diamonds. This person, whomever she was, was not human!


“W-who are you?” Danny asked.


“I...” said the woman. “Can be whomever you want me to be.” She was moving now. She seemed to not walk but glide her way over to him. Danny did not trust her. “Well, dearie, who have you got yourself in bother with?”


“N-no one.” Danny stuttered. “Anyway, I do not see how it's any concern at yours.”


“Oh, but I think I can.” the female said, sitting down next to Danny, her white blue dress, fanning around her feet. “My name is Irene. What's yours?”


“....” Danny scowled at Irene and said nothing.


“Oh, I see.” Irene smirked. “Playing hard to get, are we? Not my kind of style, but...I'll go along with it. So, tell me, sweetheart, what do you like most about...a woman?”


Danny stared. What business was it of this woman to ask about what he thought of women? Wait...did she know who Danny actually was? Danny quickly acted out.


“We're sometimes stubborn but know in our right minds of what we want.”


Irene scoffed. Danny felt hurt. “That isn't what I meant, dearie. What I mean was of a...of a 'delicate' nature?”


“Oh, delicate, is it?” Danny asked. “Well, let me tell you something, Miss Irene, I am anything but delicate.”


“Oh, I gathered that.” Irene said with a knowing smile. “I heard a delicious rumour of a man posing as a woman and that that person had managed to get in.”


Danny didn't break his gaze. He didn't show his surprise either, or he would have given the whole game away.


Irene smirked. “So, how did you get to be here?”


Danny went to get up, but his wrist was caught in a strong grip and was pulled back down. He cried out as his back hit the stone wall of the fountain and he was now gazing up into the piercing sea storm blue eyes of Irene.


“What a shame,” she purred. “That no one will be able to hear your screams.”


Danny closed his eyes, waiting for something really bad to happen. But it didn't, all she heard was a whooshing sound and a cry. Danny opened his eyes and found Irene no longer on top of him. Instead, he saw her...and All standing several feet away and All looked to be in a fowl temper. Irene was slowly getting to her feet.


“Fowl Veela.” All warned, her voice turning into a snarl. “You are not welcome in the home of the gods, you never have been. Leave now before I use force.”


“Dear, dear All. You seem to have grown tired and weak.” then Irene pulled something from behind her back. A long black leather whip. “What a shame, I'll have to put you down.” and she lunged. All ducked out of the way, Danny had no choice but to fall back into the fountain water. Irene ended up, smacking into the wall. Irene went in again but ended up smacking into All's outstretched arm and All swung the Veela as though she was throwing a discus. Irene screamed as she flew in the air and disappeared. All watched the spot where Irene had disappeared from before looking down at Danny, who was wet and shivering.


“Oh, Danny.” the goddess whimpered as she came over and pulled him out of the water. “I...I...are you all right?”


“ so.” Danny stuttered.


“Oh, goodness. Maybe we should get you in some warmth before--.”


All stopped her sentence, something silver flew past the pair of them, missing by inches, a few strands of All's black hair fell to the ground. All reached up and looked at the hair that was now uneven with the rest. All looked up and threw Danny behind her. A red light appeared around All and a large sleek silver sword appeared in All's hands. Irene was flying towards them, streaking down like an arrow. But she didn't look exactly like she had before. Her face had elongated into a bird like face, her eyes, yellow and haughty, full of anger. Great big dishevelled wings sprouted from her back. Her feet and hands had grown into horrible wrinkled claws, the whip in her hands. All sprang forwards, leaping up on to the fountain and sprang up. All swung her sword and Irene's body fell.


The head splashed into the fountain. Blood splattered across the grass. Danny stared in horror at the dismembered body of Irene, which began to shrivel and wrinkle, almost like a body decaying. All landed gracefully on her feet and glanced at Irene's body.


“Veela.” she tsked. She swirled her wrist and the blood stained sword vanished. She then looked back to Danny and held out her arms. Danny couldn't resist and rushed forwards to embrace the beautiful, brave goddess. All tightly gripped onto Danny.


“You're not hurt?” Danny asked.


“ well.” the goddess simply said. Danny smiled and pulled himself even more into All's embrace.




Peter who had heard the screams and hurried into the gardens and saw All with a girl. They were hugging. As they drew back, Peter recognised it to be the hunter he'd cursed. Peter watched the two. They seemed to be close. Really close. Peter smiled, knowing that the hunter had probably seen his ways. He raised a hand and waved it slowly. Slowly, the hunter began to shift from being a woman to the man he was. To the man he always was. The two separated and looked at Danny's now male form. They smiled at one another before gently pulling each other in a--


“Oi! Ya bastard!”


Peter looked round to see a disgruntled Hector on the steps.


“You're bloody well late.”


“Sorry, Hector, darling. Something came up.”


Hector glared a little longer at Peter before huffing and walking off. Peter smiled, with another look at the now kissing couple, he turned and hurried after Hector, his cloak flickering out of sight.






How long will I Love You? - Ellie Goulding:


How long will I be with you

as long as the sea is bound to,

wash upon the sand

how long will I want you

as long as you want me to

and longer by far




Julian had met Oliver the air nymph several years before Khan met Arthur and before Smaug had saved Bilbo. Julian had seen the nymph from afar, dancing in the sky and trying to escape his fellow nymph friends...well two of them anyway. Julian had been very amused by this and the next day, when spotting Oliver being bothered by his friends again, came to intercept and caught the nymph in his arms. The others took one sight of the god and fled. To Julian's delight, the nymph instantly took a liking to him and they got to know one another. Oliver had even been invited to join Julian in his housing and taught the nymph how to make the newest bouts of technology that Julian had made. Oliver had found the god to be fascinating and wanted to spend hours or even days with him. Julian was also the god of truth and would surprise Oliver when the air nymph talked about things he felt shy about. Then one day, Julian and Oliver had shared their first kiss under some elm trees when trying to keep dry from a shower of rain. The kiss had led to more and were woken the next morning by a small family of wild deer. The two hurried away and shared a kiss before departing to head home. Instantly, Oliver was bombarded with questions about where he'd been and if it was with Julian. Oliver did tell about his night with Julian and then was greeted with embraces and noises of delight from his sister. Julian, however, was deduced immediately by Sherlock, much to his displeasure and reminded the wisdom god of his love of John. It shut the god up. Years passed for the god and the nymph and it found them one day, walking through the forests of Earth below and talking.


“Did you hear what happened to one of Smaug's children?” Oliver asked.


“His drakelings?” Julian asked. “What of them?”


“One of them was killed in a fierce fight with a hero.” Oliver explained. “Smaug is furious and Bilbo's in agony. So, the rest of their children have sent a plague of fire on the village. Burnt the whole thing to a cinder.”


“I...I heard from Khan about the matter. Bilbo has locked himself in Erebor and Smaug is pleading with Islington to bring him back to life.”


“Smaug knows there's no way.” Oliver said, as they came to a stream. “Remember Islington tried to revive that healer. There's no spell or incantation that reawaken the dead.”


“Actually, there is.”




“There is. Molly even knows it.”


“The spring goddess? What's she got to do with it?”


“Ollie, she is the goddess of spring time. What does spring mean?”


“Giving life again. Life being born, or reawaken from a long sleep.”


“Exactly so. There's a thing that only mortals will counter if they are lucky. Reincarnation.”


“What's that?”


“Where a mortal will be given a brand new life with new memories and maybe live a better life.”


“It sounds good.”


“Do you think so?”


“I do. It's like if you could go back in time and have a chance to change one thing. It could make your life better.”


“Ah, but Oliver, if you do that then your self then would most likely be different to the one now. You would not have met me, I would be alone.”


“That's not true.” Oliver retorted, stopping and pulling Julian round to look at him. “I would easily find you again, Fate wanted us to be together, and she would do it over and over again.”


Julian looked down at the nymph with saddened eyes. Oliver looked a little taken aback.


“What?” he asked.


“ not think I have though about losing you, one day. I could, and you could lose me. I could fade from existence one day.”


Oliver shook his head. “No, no you won't. Stop saying that.”


“You know it to be true. You know I cannot lie. My dear, Oliver, you will never leave my thoughts when I am gone.”


“If you go...but it won't happen, you understand. won't leave me either. You will not vanish from my thoughts, Julian. I love you too much.”


Julian smiled and kissed the nymph. That night they made love under the stars, slowly and gently. Saviouring each other in the passionate glow, as though tomorrow would be their last. But it wasn't. It never was. The gods will prosper, forever. Their stories handed down over the years and will still be remembered by all. The gods live forever whether people still believe them or not. They just live a more peaceful life, then years ago. Julian and Oliver had nothing to worry about.




Arthur pulled up the sun for the next morning, which displayed the truth god and the air nymph, wrapped their clothing like blankets and in each other's limbs as the only bit of warmth. They were content sleeping like that, as of the smiles on their faces. Julian was the first to stir as the sun light from Arthur's ray, tickled his eyes and was forced to be waken. He blinked his eyes open and looked around to see himself and his beloved in an open meadow. No one was around except for them and Arthur's warm sunny gaze. Julian stretched, trying his best not to waken Oliver from his sleep, but Arthur had other ideas and soon woke the nymph in the same fashion. Oliver mumbled in his sleep and pressed his face into Julian's bare chest. Julian chuckled and slipped his arms once again around the nymph.


“Why doesn't Arthur just leave us all alone?” the nymph grumbled.


“Because mortals need to know when to go about their daily lives. The crops need to grow and the water's tides need to be held back.”


“Shut up.” Oliver growled, turning over, his back on Julian. Julian laughed and pressed kisses along his smooth soft back. Suddenly, a wild cat appeared from the reeds and meowed a greeting.


“Well, hello.” Julian cooed, sitting up and gesturing the cat towards him. The cat did, thinking that Julian had food in his persons. The cat then rubbed his head against Julian's outstretched hand, sniffing in his scent and classifying him as not dangerous. Gods were never dangerous unless provoked. “You are an adorable little kitty, aren't you? Isn't he, Ollie?”


Oliver mumbled an answer. Julian sniggered and proceeded to scratch and pet his cat's soft fur.


After an hour or so, the two lovers clothed themselves and walked back into the woods to head back to the heavens, the wild cat following them, happily. As they neared a brook, Oliver stopped in his tracks. Julian and the cat stopped and looked to the nymph.


“What is the matter?”


“Listen.” Oliver said, softly. The cat's back then arched and it hissed. Julian listened. There was a ruffle in trees yet there was no wind. Julian's eyes widened.


“Come on.” Julian said, ushering Oliver forwards. Oliver did and the three hurried off, hearing the scuffle following them, getting closer. They reached a grove and Julian pulled them towards it, huddling down. The cat bounced after them, squatting down between them, looking at them, questioningly. They listened with baited breath and soon they heard the sound of scuttling leaves. There was a whisper in the sudden wind. Oliver huddled more into Julian but felt his hold slip. The air nymph looked up. Julian looked ill, paler than usual.


“Julian?” Oliver whispered.


Julian didn't reply. Suddenly, his eyes rolled back and he collapsed to the ground.


“Julian!” Oliver gasped. He knelt by the god's side, tapped his cheeks to wake him but he didn't. “Julian, wake up. Please, wake up. Julian, please. You said you wouldn't leave me...HELP! Help me, someone...Gods I beseech you!” Oliver sobbed, tears beginning to run down his cheeks. “Julian, come on, please...oh, by the gods. I beseech you, any of you!”


Suddenly, there was a rumble and John appeared in thin air. He saw Julian and hurried to his side.


“What happened, Oliver?”


“He...we were hiding and he collapsed. I don't even know how or when.”


“It's all right, let's get him to my ward and I'll find out. Come. We must be quick--.”


Then a cold high laugh sounded echoing through the forest. Everyone froze. Deathly silence fell on their ears. Oliver looked to John, who was staring at the tress, anger in his eyes.


“What is it?”


John started as though remembering where he was and smiled down at the air nymph. “It is nothing. Do not worry. Come, we must go. Quickly.”




Hours passed, Oliver sat by Julian's side as John, Sherlock, Mycroft and Greg read up on books of spells, herbs, plants and such to find what happened with Julian. Sherlock came to the conclusion, after a full blown inspection and getting embarrassed after finding 'evidence of last night', that a spell had been used on Julian – a heavy sleeping spell.


“ do we undo the spell?”


“It's not easy.” explained John. “There are poppies belonging to the god, Jamie. Those poppies are not only to commemorate those who died in battle but for sleeping drafts. The poppies might help bring Julian around.”


“Then that's fine. All we have to do is get the poppies from Jamie and--.”


“It's not that simple.” said Sherlock. “Jamie's dwelling is in the Underworld. You will have to go through many tunnels and encounter many things down there. You will need guidance.”


Oliver looked to John and Sherlock. “You are speaking to an air nymph. We can do many things.” he then looked to Mycroft. “Would it be all right to bring my sister and friends with me?”


“You may but Jamie doesn't care much for visitors. You will need to go alone when you reach his home. Islington will welcome you there and show you the way. Take his word seriously and to heart.”


Oliver nodded bravely before gazing down at the still unconscious Julian. He bent down and kissed him on the forehead. “Keep thinking of me, my dearest. You will be well again. I'll be as fast as I can.” he got to his feet and left the room, hoping not the others didn't notice a tear escaping.






Run Devil Run – Girls' Generation:


you better run, run, run, run, run

deoneun mot bwa geodeocha jullae

you better run, run, run, run, run

nal butjadado

gwanshim ggeodullae hey

de meotjin naege dweneun nal

gapajugesseo itma

you better run, run, run, run, run,

ddak geollyeoseo yagolleoseo

run devil, devil run, run




Would believe a certain relationship had caused a lot of destruction on the Earth? Hmm, hard to believe isn't it? Well that's what happened when Hector the war god and Peter the god of hunting did. You see it had gone like this.


Arthur the sun god had cast down a real hot day. It was unbearable for gods, mortals and creatures that dwelt on land. So, almost everyone took to rivers, streams, ponds, lakes, lochs or even private baths or even dwelling in the seas. It bothered most of the gods but not Arthur or Khan. Khan found it invigorating as it meant for Khan that his soon-to-be-husband was going through what the animals did during the mating season, and the two would not been seen for days! But another god was not bothered by the prospect of hot weather. Hector was feeling in a sporty mood and wanted to hunt. So, he rounded up his hunting dogs with a couple of spears and a full quiver of arrows. With his bow in one hand, he headed out with his dogs. The forest air was fresh with live animals. He could sense the animals that were prowling round the forest, and he knew his hunting dogs would find them soon. He whistled a command and the dogs sniffed wildly at the forest floor. Two perked up near a certain area and began to bark. Hector smiled.


“Well done, my pets. Continue sniffing, but when you find prey, don't alert until I strike first.”


The dogs whined in reply and soon they followed the scent. Hector followed his dogs until they came to a small hill where two deer were sitting with their young. Hector heard the dogs' low growl but Hector held up a hand to shush them. Swiftly, he drew his arrow into his bow and aimed for the deer that was leaving with three of her young. With a good eye, he fired the arrow but it missed. The deer frightened by the sudden action, leaped and bounded away, with the other deer and their young. Hector snarled and sent his dogs after them with a whistle. The dogs barked ran but as the deer vanished the dogs sudden skidded to a halt and scampered back to their master. Hector stared bewildered before looking back up towards the hill where a figure now stood. The man stood wearing brown clothing with a sky blue sash and clashed well with his blue-green eyes. His hair was blonde, his cheekbones were high like Sherlock and Khan's and he had the most luscious lips that Hector longed to taste. He recognised this fellow. This man was a god.


“Lord Hector.” the god said in a low voice that sent Hector's heart racing a little.


“Your face,” said Hector, moving forwards. “I have not seen you in ages....Lord Peter.”


Peter smiled. “Been too long, Hector. Tell me, how many wars have you caused these past few summers?”


“Quite a few.” Hector grinned. “But I must not continue this conversation any longer. I have a hunt to pursue.”


“Afraid not, Lord Hector. The deer you wanted to kill have long gone. Bilbo wouldn't be happy if you killed these creatures.”


“Oh, come now.” Hector snarled.


Peter raised an eyebrow. “My lord, I'd rather have a meal with you first.”


Hector snarled, he drew his sword from scabbard and held it aloft and Peter quickly drew his bow with a ready arrow.


“Put the sword down, you nitwit! Peter snarled, not wavering his arrow.


“You first.” Hector hissed.


Peter rolled his eyes. “My dear lord, you are a stubborn one.”


“I've been told. Tell me what was the one thing that you're tutor, Lord George told you when you were young. You often bragged about it.”


Peter's hold on his bow and arrow, gave in slightly but then he gained control again. “Never turn your back on your enemies.”


Hector grinned again. “Exactly.”


Peter's eyebrow raised, in confusion. One minute the war god was there, the next he vanished. He reappeared behind Peter and licked the side of his face. Peter flinched and swung his bow around but not before Hector vanished again, appearing behind Peter lashing out a kick, sending the god down. The arrow was shot and disappeared within the trees. Hector laughed and sprinted off, whistling to his dogs to join him in the chase. They ran fast as the wind, sprinting like lightning dancing in the sky. He could hear Peter coming after him. He whistled ordering his dogs to go back home and he took off diverting Peter away. But then he was flung back as his face collided with a fist. He'd been punched. Hector let out a noise as he hit the ground, and looked up to see the hunting god standing over him. A foot connected with Hector's throat, making the god choke.


“Don't...let your judgement...g-get the better – gah – of you, my Lord Peter.”


“Shut up!” the god hissed.


Hector grabbed Peter's leg in both hands and flung in back. Peter cried out and Hector sprung to his feet. He took hold of Peter's collar and pulled him back up. He swung his arm, colliding his golden arm band on the god's cheek. Ichor ran down in his cheek. Peter slammed a foot into Hector's stomach so hard it sent the god flying back into a tree bark, causing the tree to splinter and crash to the ground. Peter hurried over to where Hector was getting up. He hooked his arms under Hector's and pulled him harshly up. Hector had lost his weapons. Peter unhooked one of his arms and grabbed the god's dirty blonde hair, pulling his head back.


“Heel, boy.” Peter snarled. Hector tried to reach with his foot to snag Peter and pulled him out of the hold but he couldn't reach him. “I said 'heel'.”


Hector whimpered at the sound of annoyance in Peter's voice and sagged in his grip. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Peter now smiling.


“Good boy.”


Hector felt Peter's hard grip loosen and he collapsed to the ground. Hector looked up as Peter circled him like a lion with its prey. Hector was never prey, he was the god of WAR. This never happens! Why the bloody hell was he being hunted? Hector watched as Peter reached down and cupped his chin in his hand. He was forced to look up at the hauntingly beautiful eyes that stared down at him with glee. With a hint of command.


“I bet there are ways I can tame you, my lord.” Peter purred. Oh, yes...there it was. “You seem to be very high strung for a war god, but I think if I pull at the right...string.” Hector shivered as he felt Peter's index finger run up and down his neck and chin, almost tickling. “You could easily fall apart. Am I right?”


“Piss off, Peter.” Hector hissed. “Not interested.”


Peter smiled. He glanced down at Hector's body before looking back into his eyes. “Your body says otherwise.”


Hector's eyes widened. He glanced down at his body. His body had betrayed him. Hector crossed his legs and held his hands cross his lap.


“You've been spending too much time with Sherlock.”


“I made that deduction myself. You crave authority from others as well as you giving out orders and then fanning the flames of war for you alive. And you'd drag your own cousin into it.”


Hector grinned. “Why do you think he spent so much time with Sherlock and then fell in love with him? He misses the life of danger and adventure. We all live for a life of adventure, don't we? You do, otherwise you wouldn't have chased me.”


“I'm the god of hunt, Hector. I always go for the hunt wherever it leads me. And it led me to you.”


Hector stared at Peter in confusion. Peter rolled his eyes in a bemused way. He knelt down in front of Hector and pulled the war god to his lips. What happened after...led to mortals discovering a crevice in the forest floor and several trees pulled from their roots, or snapped by the bark. This was the scared ground of where the war god and the hunt god had lain together. A small temple was built around the area and left pelts of fur, offered sacrifices to the gods especially around the date it had happened.


I suppose it's just as the saying goes: all is fair in LOVE and WAR.






Everything I Do (I Do it for You) – Bryan Adams:


Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for

you can't tell me it's not worth dyin' for

you know it's true

everything I do

I do it for you




Sherlock stepped out of his home that he shared with John and walked over to the several bee hives that sat innocently in the garden. Bees swarmed in and out, creating such a noise and, hopefully, lots of honey. He smiled as the bees saw their master and some flew towards him, gently brushing their tiny bodies against his cheek.


“Hello, my dears.” he cooed as the bees moved away from the hives. “Let's see how much you have made for me. All will need some for her ointments. You know how she gets.”


He removed a lid from one of the hives and saw that there was indeed a lot of honey.


“Well done, everyone. Bilbo's been very generous giving away his pollen for you. Might give him a a few jars. We know full well he eats it with several pieces of toasts for his breakfast...not so much for his second breakfast though.” he explained, as he worked the honey combs away from each hive. Once he was done and replaced the old combs with new ones, thanked his buzzing little workers and went back into the house. For a few hours, Sherlock worked to extract the honey from the combs.


As he finished filtering, the doors opened to show John, who stood in the door way and looked outside and back again.


“I see there's a dead elk's head outside.”


“It's an experiment!” Sherlock said, matter of factly.


“And what is it this time? Blood clots, bruising, decomposition?”


“Yes...” Sherlock said, as though he was saying it to himself. John stepped inside and walked over to his lover. He placed a kiss on the god's cheek.


“I see the bees have been generous again.”


“Mmm hmm.”


“It's not often they do.” John said, pointedly. He sat down at the table.


“Well, Bilbo's had a lot of catching up to do. He has been grieving over the loss of his and Smaug's child.”


“Hmmm.” said John. “He was young.”


“Yes, he was. But life goes on and we must carry on. It's what...Fate wants us to do.”


John sniggered at the hint of discomfort in Sherlock's voice. “Oh, speaking of, your mother wrote a note to us, she wants us to come to a feast she's having, as it's been sixty years since your parents married--.”




“Why not?!”


“You know why not.”


“No, I don't actually. Enlighten me.”


“Because he's going to be there.”




“Yes, he.”


“Who? Mycroft?”


Yes, Mycroft.”


“Oh, come on, Sherlock. It just for one night and then we will come home and maybe go on another adventure together.”


“Oh, no it won't. You know my mother. She'll have some flood, or early winter or a storm come down and have us spend longer together. You know my brother's insufferable.”


“...yes, I do. But Greg will keep him line.”


“Greg never does. He likes it when Mycroft shows authority. Although 'like' isn't the word, he LOVES it!”


“Sherlock! Calm down. You're working yourself up. Just say yes and keep thinking of the next adventure we'll have. Remember the hell hound which that family, the Baskervilles, had locked up.”


“Don't remind me.”


“You went mental, over a single bite.”


“It was infected, John. The beast had rabies.”


“It was provoked, Sherlock. That's what the Baskervilles had done, remember?”


Sherlock made a noise of displeasure and focused his attention back on the honey before him.


“So, have you come to the conclusion about what happened with Julian?”


Sherlock didn't say anything. He finished filtering the honey and placed it with covers over the tops and placed into a room. He sat down at the table.


“Yes, someone did put a sleeping spell on Julian. Possibly the same person who allowed a Veela to enter our homes and also gave those dwarves from Erebor the power to take down a god. Maybe not. There's something going on, John. Something bad. Very bad. I don't like not knowing. We've got to find out who is doing this, without Julian it's going to be tough.”


“So where will we start?” said John.


“Simple. The person that not all gods dare visit.”




The home of Fate, herself, stood on the ends of the earth, a place no one dared to venture unless they were granted permission by the gods or by Fate. She lived there with Time, her husband and had given birth to three gods, who had later in life gone off to live and carry out their duties as gods. Violet the goddess of Fate sat on a small throne with purple throws. The room was cobwebbed with golden pieces of string that fused together in a large tapestry that looked golden to the normal eye but to the goddess' and anyone that was given permission it would show the life line of a certain person. At the end of the tapestry pieces were frayed, un-stitched or looked burned. The room was endless. Violet smiled as Sherlock and John entered the room.


“Sherlock, dear. John, it's good to see you.”


Sherlock sighed. “Mummy.”


Violet rolled her eyes. “Don't be like that, dear. It's been too long. John, how are you keeping?”


“Very well thank you, Lady Violet. How is Siger?”


“Good. Considering he's the god of time.” said Violet. “He should have found more time for you, John, Greg and Mycroft to be together for a feast. Besides I invited you to join us in celebrating yours and my father's marriage.”


Sherlock sighed against. “I'm here, aren't I?”


“Not often enough.” Violet snapped. Sherlock went oddly silent. “So, why are you here, Sherlock?”


“I don't know if father has told you, but a lot's happened. Julian had been given a heavy sleeping draft and Oliver, his lover, has gone to the Underworld to retrieve poppies.”


“Yes, I do know. My dear, and I must say you're getting slower in your age, if you don't think I don't know about people's fate. But you see I found something quite odd.”




“Yes, you remember when Smaug went to rescue Bilbo?”


“We do.”


“Well, I came back here after saying goodbye to your father. And I found...something very dark in the tapestry of Fate.”




Violet nodded. She stood from her seat and gestured for John and Sherlock to follow her. They walked through the endless hall. They bent low, stepped over, ducked through the strings as they fused together into a giant golden tapestry that seemed to come to life as it came together at the top and then began to fray itself at the bottom. Amongst the gold, they saw several black areas that intertwined with the gold and showed in patches. Sherlock looked at the fabric and rang his hand over the material, testing how the black felt compared to the gold.


“Have you been able to see passed this?”


“No, it's impossible to see what lies beneath it. But the last time, this happened...” and the fate goddess trailed off.


“The last time, what?” John asked.


“It's the only explanation I can give you both. But there was a time where a mortal made his own fate, I couldn't control it, but it never came up as black. But I have a feeling that whoever this is, is making their own fate against the one I will give them.”


“That can happen?”


“Yes, it can. Its rare that it happens as you both know. But this is happening too often, now.”


“Can you tell if it's by the same person or different people?” Sherlock quizzed.


“It is just the one, Sherlock.” said Violet. “It seems to have happened not specific days. Time when Bilbo went travelling to when he was captured by those dwarves and to when Smaug freed him, then there was the time when All and Danny encountered that Veela, it was a sometime before them, a week later then there was the incident with Julian, a few days before another one appeared.”


“Are these linked in then?”


“They are. I can sense it.” Violet said.


“Can you think of anyone who might be involved and keeping himself in hiding? Someone who has not recently been showing themselves? Surely, you must have an idea.”


“I do, Sherlock.”


“Then who is it?”


Violet looked to her son, with a frightened look. “James Moriarty.”


Sherlock's eyes widened at the name and John stared at the goddess. “But...but Lady Violet, Moriarty had been dead for years, he fell with the Titan, Magnussen.”


“I know but there has been whispers that the god of chaos has returned.”


“He has.” John whispered. Sherlock and Violet looked to him. “When I was called by Oliver, I heard laughter in the forest. But only for a few moments.”


“You think Moriarty could have done all those things to cause destruction?”


“It's the only thing, he lives for, Mummy. Thank you for your help. John and I must get going.”


As they left the room, the goddess called out. “You will come to the feast?”


Sherlock stopped at the door and sighed. He turned to look at his mother. “Yes, mother, we will, when this is all over.”


Violet smiled. She bid them farewell and the two gods left the home.




“So, Moriarty's back?” John asked, as they sat by a river.


“It would seem so.” Sherlock replied, cooling his feet in the rushing water.


“Do you think Magnussen would have got him out?”


“No, Magnussen may have been powerful but he wasn't that powerful. Moriarty must have had someone helping him. He must have escaped. When the war of the gods happened, he must have had help from the start.”


“But who though?”


“I'm not sure. We've got to find out.”


“But who do we know that was around during the war of the gods. They've either gone into hiding, or disappeared or down in Helheim.”


Sherlock went quiet for a moment and then a small smile came on his face. “Not all of them.”




Belladonna was planting another array of flowers in her garden when Sherlock and John arrived. She smiled at the two as they came close.


“Hello, fellows.” she said with a smile.


“Lady Belladonna.” said Sherlock. “How is Bilbo?”


“Better. We think he could still be grieving but not as much as before. But then we all grieve don't we?”


“Understandable.” Sherlock muttered.


John looked to his lover. He saw a sadness in his lover's eyes, that he had seen in years. John remembered that Sherlock once adopted a mortal dog, a beautiful creature with a shaggy reddish coat and was always happy to see his new owner and – at the time – best friend. But then things took a turn for the worse when John noticed something about the dog, then named Redbeard. Sherlock became panic stricken and told John to heal him, but John had told Sherlock he was unable to. Red Beard unfortunately had to be put down. Sherlock didn't speak to John for months and fled to his parents' home. Soon after Violet dragged a pouty Sherlock to John and made him apologise. Which he did. John had never wanted to see Sherlock like that again. He'd often asked Mycroft how his brother was...and Mycroft would often give answers that John didn't understand. Greg however had been sympathetic and had told John everything.


“And Smaug, how's he?”


“Keeping his children and husband safe and well. He's a good father if being over protective. But he's only looking out for his children.”


“Of course. Belladonna, we need to ask you something. Something that you must surely remember.”


“What about?”


“The war.”


Belladonna's eyes widened. “Sherlock, you know that is a sensitive topic.”


“I know but someone well connected with the war, who is thought to be along gone, is back and causing what he knows best.”


“Who? Magnussen?”


“No, Moriarty.”


Belladonna's mouth fell open. “Oh, gods. Oh, by the heavens. Ask away.”


“Was Moriarty aided by an unknown ally? Someone that not many people knew about?”


“, he wasn't. The older gods were his only allies.”


“Who was he up against when the fight was going on?” asked John.


“He was never there. He was a god who didn't like to get his hands dirty. Even though, he caused grounds to rumble and burst. The clouds to burst with lightning and rumble with thunder. He nearly opened Helheim at one point. But when Magnessun was defeated and thrown into Helheim, all stopped and there was peace. Moriarty must have escaped, but we all thought that he'd gone to Helheim with the others or was dead.”


“Was there anyone he had involvement with anyone?”


Belladonna was quiet, she didn't look at Sherlock and John as she was thinking – thinking back to those years. Then her eyes brightened twitched a little as though she was remembering. “Actually, there was someone that Moriarty was...although I don't know if 'involved' is the word.”


“Then what would be the word?”


“...years ago, after the creation of the world and of humanity and such, Moriarty fell in love with a mortal man called Sebastian. They were made for each other. Almost alike – personality wise. They loved mayhem. But what happened to Sebastian during the war and slightly after was unknown.”


“So, you think Sebastian was waiting for Moriarty to come back and they could get away?”


“There's a possibility.”


“Lady Belladonna, you said before that 'there was someone', what did you mean 'was'?”


“I heard that Sebastian had been killed, executed. He'd committed treason against his city and was captured. A day later, he was executed.”


John looked to Sherlock. “Do you think Moriarty could be getting back after what happened?”


“That could be part of the reason.” Sherlock answered. “But there's a much bigger reason why. He must be trying to finish what Magnessun was trying to accomplish but failed, spectacularly.” he then looked back to the nymph. “Belladonna thank you again for this information. Do tell Bilbo and Smaug, we are asking after them and wish them well.”


“I will.” Belladonna smiled.




Oliver sagged against a wall, trying to keep the torch a loft as he caught his breath. He heard his sister and friends coming up behind him. He wasn't sure how long he had been in the Underworld for but seemed to be hours. On the day that Oliver had claimed that he was going to the Underworld to find the god Jamie and revive Julian from his sleep, he'd gone immediately to his friends and sister and told them of what happened. He warned them of the dangers that would be in the Underworld and that it would require a lot of bravery. Gary, being a proud yet stupid nymph, told Oliver that they would help him get the poppies and wake Julian. When they came to the gateway of the Underworld, which was secretly located in Islington's temple – something Julian had told him by 'accident' – they were greeted by the god himself. Islington gave the nymph a map of the Underworld that would lead him straight to Jamie. Along the way, Oliver was sure he heard the howls of hell hounds or worse, wargs! Wargs were more vicious then hell hounds, except the one John and Sherlock had encountered. Hell hounds were obedient and faithful creatures despite it's name but if provoked and under threat, they would attack. Oliver did not want to come across Helheim, he'd rather stay in Paradiso where mortals who'd served with goodness live in for eternity.


Now, Oliver managed to catch his breath and look to his fellow nymphs. “I think we're nearly there. We'll be out of here in no time.”


“I don't think it will be as easy as that.” said Andy.


“What do you mean?”


Sam sighed and looked to her brother. “Ollie, you may have to go this alone. We've helped you come this far. Besides you said so that Jamie doesn't like too much company. It's better for you to go to the god's home alone.”


Oliver looked to his friends. They all wore the same expression, even though they wanted to go with him, they knew they couldn't. Really this was Oliver's choice and his mission to help his lover wake up. Oliver nodded. He handed Sam the torch. She let Steven take it and hugged her brother tightly. Oliver patted her on the back and then let go. He turned headed down the tunnel. The tunnel didn't seem to end. Oliver was afraid he would be walking round in circles. When the nymph had slightly lost hope, he saw a light up ahead. He ran towards it and saw a large cottage that was made of stone, sitting in a garden of nothing but poppies and reeds. This had to be Jamie's home. Oliver strode forwards and knocked on the door. He waited maybe a minute or two and then the door opened up. A man stood there with smoothed back brown hair with a well trimmed moustache. He stared down at the nymph with an eyebrow.


“Can I help you?”


“ name is Oliver and I'm an nymph.”


“I guessed. What is a nymph like you doing down here?”


“That's what I was to say next. My lover, Julian, has been put under a sleeping curse. I need your help.”


“And you want me to give you some poppies to wake him?”


“If...if you wouldn't...wouldn't mind.”


Jamie blinked. “You can take them. A bunch full, more will grow in their place.”


Oliver let out a sigh of relief before smiling at the god and bowing. “Thanks you, my lord. Thank you.”


Oliver then proceed to pick several poppies, as he finished picking the last ones, Jamie spoke again.


“I don't understand why you would waste yourself on him. Julian, I mean. He's a pretentious idiot.”


Oliver looked to the god of sleep. “So what if he is?”


“You know it can be hurtful, falling in love with a god like him. Especially when he's the god of truth and he cannot lie. It's a curse, really.”


“Actually,” Oliver said, contradicting the god. “He has lied to me, a few times. Sometimes he won't tell me where he actually goes. He didn't when we started courting. But I found out that he was actually going to different places on earth to buy me presents. To show me the wonderful pieces of technology that he had invented. All to impress me. He told me that one day I would lose him and he would lose day, but we all know that's not to be true. Because I am bringing him back.”


Oliver gripped the poppies in his hand and left.




After talking with Belladonna, Sherlock had a suspicion that Sebastian's grave would be in the area of Moriarty's old temple, which had been left in ruin after the war. So, they travelled to the temple ruins. John couldn't help but stare at the horrific sight that lay before them. The temple had been circular unlike others that were either of a square or rectangular shape. Tatters of red and black cloth which had probably once been curtains, lay scattered across the temple. Sherlock bounded forwards to look inside the temple. John followed but at steady pace, looking around and the debris of the temple. He reached a large piece of debris and placed a hand over it. It seemed as though the destruction of the temple had happened few years ago, so it was not recent or all those years ago. When had Sebastian's died? John looked round to see if there was any sign of Sebastian's grave if Moriarty had buried him there.




John turned to the sound of Sherlock's voice and he headed into the temple. There were cracks and rumble lying on the floor and Sherlock was standing at a dishevelled altar, a long table was turned over with ruined candles scattered on the floor.


“Sebastian has been buried here. See from where the doorway to here. Dried blood. A trial of it. Moriarty had managed to recover Sebastian's body. Brought it here and buried him, right here.”


John came over, seeing the trial of dried blood that was spattered on the ground. Where the altar was, was a large stone slab that looked as though it had put in as a slightly new addition. In chiselled writing the words:


Here lies Sebastian Moran

My dearest love

Will never be forgotten


John looked up at Sherlock. “So, it's true then, about Sebastian and Moriarty?”


“Looks to be. But we need to see how this connects with everything.”


“And that is?”


“I don't know, and I don't like not knowing. So, all we need to is find him, where would he be if not here?”


Before Sherlock could answer, there was a screech and a black owl swooped in, dropped something on the floor. It circled the temple and then flew back out with a screeching farewell. Sherlock reached down and grabbed it. He unfurled the scroll and his ice blue eyes darted back and forth as he read.


“What is it, Sherlock? Sherlock?”


“I think we've already been discovered, my dear John.”


John stared confusingly at his lover before taking the scroll of which he was holding out. John looked at the scroll. In a small scrawl in reddened ink was a small message that read:


'Meet me at the Reichenbach Falls,

I will gladly come and play with you both and finish our...

Great Game.




The Reichenbach Falls was a tremendous waterfall that churned its smooth waters into a harsh shower of rain as it fell to the bottom. It was settled in a countryside village known to be called St. Barts, named after a heroic mortal who had vanquished a sea serpent that was reeking havoc on the village. Sherlock and John climbed their way with Sherlock making sure that John was with him the whole climb. Half way up the waterfall, was a ledge that sat there like a first resting place. Sherlock and John pulled themselves up and found to be facing a man who was probably the same height as John with short black hair, dark eyes that screamed danger but childish like humour. He wore shaggy grey robes that had seen better days. He was giving off an aura of distrust, or turmoil. A dreaded mortal coil. He gave a lazy smile.


“I see you received my note.” the god said. Was this Moriarty?


“Indeed. Just in time to end this once and for all.” Sherlock said, moving in front of John. Even though, he knew John was able to handle himself. He didn't dare risk John's life when a god of chaos stood in their way.


“Oh, yes. It'll be all over soon.” said Moriarty. “For you and your family.”


“You can't do this. It doesn't matter now. It's over, you've been caught out.”


“Oh, not until I get what I want, Sherlock...John.”


“You can't.” John hissed. “You chose the losing side all those years, you were caught out and your Lord and Master fell. What makes you think that you can win again? It was what Fate had in store for you.”


“Oh, yes...dear old mummy. How is she, Sherlock? That tapestry of hers looking nice?”


“You did that? You had this planned for the start? The veela, the sleeping draught, the dwarves...the dwarves have no brains for this kind of thing, what would they be getting out of this? They don't cooperate with magic.”


“Why did you think I gave it to them, Sherlock. I presented those dwarves a path to a future where earth would crumble. With magic it could have let them pull all of the wealth from Islington's vaults. All they wanted was more gold and with this. They could have used Bilbo to do such a thing. But then Smaug got in the way. And how do you think that Veela woman got inside the palace? Yes, they live in the clouds, but remember Mycroft had Islington put a spell so that they would not enter. Veela's a tricky creatures, Sherlock. Never know what they're capable of. Until I gave her a spell to counteract it. The spell does work when god's ichor is involved. Irene was positively giggly about it. She seemed to like that Danny fellow, even if he was a girl, at the time.”


“And you defied your own fate. You changed the course of destiny. Just so you could play about and meddle with lives to cause an all out war. You would easily change fate so that that kind of magic would exist or


“Of course, I did.” Moriarty laughed. “All of this here, is just a way for me to claim a throne that doesn't belong to him.”


Sherlock glared at Moriarty. “You're mad.'re insane.”


Moriarty pulled a face. “You are only just realising that?”


“That's why you put Julian out of action, so when confronting the gods he would realise that you were the guilty party.”


“Hmmm,” the god murmured, nodding. “But I hardly doubt that little nymph of his will able to find a cure for him. I doubt he would have got half way through the Underworld and met Jamie. He's always in a mood that man, anyway, don't you think?”


“ are wrong, Moriarty. You may have been able to fool us and feed those nasty little thoughts inside dwarves and Veelas' heads, but you underestimate the magic of nymphs...especially air nymphs.”


“What about them?”


“Air nymphs, Moriarty.” Sherlock said, slowly and carefully as though speaking to a deaf individual. “They have the power to turn invisible and be seen by others. That's how he caught Julian's attention because Oliver wanted to be seen by his lover. To be loved by him. You underestimated him. Nymphs are more of a strong will than Veelas.”


“You serious?” Moriarty asked, as he began to circle the two.


“Of course. It's one of the many reasons why Julian loves Oliver. Because of the will power, he possesses. Danny seems to have the same effect as he rejected the advances of the Veela you sent after him. And the magic you gave the dwarves, it ran out and Bilbo and Smaug was able to get away. You're losing your touch Moriarty, and you've known that always. You may have the upper hand when Magnessun was in charge, but you lost it after...Sebastian was executed.”


Moriarty's wide child like eyes softened. There was sadness. Grief! “How did you know?”


“A little nightingale told us.” said John.


“I figure since Sebastian's death, you've tried to not only to cause an all war but to try and claim a throne. Mycroft's throne. You want to be lord so that you can revive Sebastian. But trust me, Moriarty, you know that that is impossible.”


“It's what I'm good at.” the chaos god growled.


“Islington tried it to bring back his lover. But nothing worked. What makes you think it'll work for you.”


“Then I'll make it work.”


“But nothing has. Everything you've tried has worked and then failed. You've lost Moriarty. Give it”


Moriarty smiled. “I don't think so.” Suddenly, a sickly green glow appeared by Moriarty's side and in his hand appeared a sword. Sherlock's arm shot out and he pulled John behind him as Moriarty moved towards them and swung the sword. Sherlock ducked, moving his body bend backwards, making John bend, too. Sherlock used his power to move them around to the other side, transporting them. Moriarty moved swinging the sword around. Sherlock spun and pulled John down, protecting his lover from assault. John slipped out a hand from the hold and a golden light burst from his hand, sending Moriarty flying back. Almost to the edge of the cliff. Sherlock straightened up but found Moriarty no longer at the edge. He spun round, hearing a noise and found Moriarty standing behind John the sword swiftly coming down.


“John, NO!”


The sword blade went through John's leg, making the healer cry out. Sherlock's cry was the loudest. The god saw red and held out his hand. A yellow glow shimmered into existence and a long scythe appeared in his hands. Sherlock let out another angry cry and lunged for Moriarty. Quick as a flash, Moriarty pulled his sword from John's wound and parried the scythe blade that came towards him. There was insanity ringing in Moriarty's eyes. He'd gone completely mad. Sherlock drew back the scythe and swung again. Moriarty swung his sword but the blade collided with the handle. Sherlock lashed out a kick, sending Moriarty flying to the side. The wisdom god looked to John, who was trying to rip his clothes to get to his wound.




“I'm fine, Sherlock, just—LOOK OUT!”


Sherlock looked round and saw the blade coming for him. Sherlock ducked and made the scythe handle collided with Moriarty's side, making him cry out. All Sherlock needed to do was to get Moriarty to the edge of the fall and--


Moriarty swung again, trying to go for Sherlock's stomach. But Sherlock dodged in time and swung the blade again. It scraped along Moriarty's robes, causing the familiar golden blood to appear. Moriarty looked down at it and then at Sherlock in disbelief. Sherlock swung the handle of the scythe and it whacked Moriarty on the back causing him to stumble. Sherlock repeated the motion and the two stood by the edge of the rushing waterfall.


“You should know Moriarty, that if you had killed my future husband, you would have been dead minutes ago.”


“It's good to know you care. But I thought you cared for me more.”


Sherlock scoffed and held the scythe blade to Moriarty's throat. “You have a brilliant mind Moriarty, it's almost like mine own. I like that about you...but when it comes to my John, I never care about anything else. Just him.” he then slammed the scythe blade down, the blade sinking into the grass and he called out. “ISLINGTON!”


He grabbed Moriarty's hand and flung him over the edge. Moriarty's screams followed as the god fell and fell. The water's surface rippled and opened up like a mouth, flames burst forth and several winged, ugly looking female creatures poured out. They screeched and jeered at the sight of Moriarty. Two of them caught Moriarty and the creatures swooped back down and flew into the open flaming hole that lead into Helheim.


Sherlock caught his breath, watched as the opening to Helheim closed and then turned to look at John, who was now cleaning himself of ichor. He hurried over.


“John, are you all right? Please say so. You're not hurt?”


“Sherlock, I'm fine.” John said as Sherlock fussed over him. “Don't worry. Thank goodness I'm immortal, yes?”


Sherlock looked at John, stunned. His face broke and he reached over to pull his lover, into an embrace. “Thank goodness.” he whispered.


After the fight, John and Sherlock returned to the heavens to find that Oliver and successfully revived Julian and brought him back with a kiss, which then followed by a proposal which Oliver happily accepted.


Over a year later after Moriarty's downfall, weddings sprung up all over the place. Khan and Arthur married on the shores of one of their favourite beaches. Two years later, All married Danny. Followed by Julian and Oliver a couple of months later, then Hector and Peter, a year later. Then finally after waiting for more than a dozen years or so, John and Sherlock got married. It had been a wedding that everyone had looked forward to as it had been something on everyone's waiting list since finding out that they were couple. Violet and Siger had been overjoyed to see their son FINALLY standing at the altar with his beloved. Even Mycroft had been spotted with tears in his eyes at the ceremony and would deny ever doing so. Three years later, they had a son named Hamish who walked on the earth, teaching people about the art of healing and teaching about his father's intellect to mortals below in the Britannia Mysteries that followers of John and Sherlock would only read about and not discuss outside of their temple.


So, life was happy and peaceful again...


Until a woman came to Sherlock and John's temple, wanting to look for her husband.


Chapter Text

Reflection – Mulan (Disney OST):


Who is that girl I see

staring straight back at me

why is my reflection someone I don't know

somehow I cannot hide who I am though I've tried

when will my reflection show who I am inside

when will my reflection show who I am inside?




Milton had met the famous Alan Turing when he'd been transferred over to England to help out decipher codes from the German army, known as the Enigma. Milton had liked Alan from their first meeting. The way he talked so passionately about his work made the American know that Alan was determined to help in anyway possible. Especially when it meant for him to work on his own. He seemed to prefer it. Milton didn't blame him, the others they'd been working with, had taken a dislike to Alan except John. Milton didn't understand why, when Alan only wanted to do his job and serve his purpose in the war. all changed not just for the Allies changing the tide of battle but for Alan and Milton in particular. They celebrated a night with the others secretly when one of the codes had finally been solved. All except Edmund who wanted safety for his brother. Soon, Alan wanted to go and Milton offered to walk him home. Soon, a slightly tipsy goodnight turned into a tipsy kiss. Both men had not known how – either Milton had pushed his way into Alan's house or Alan had pulled the American inside – but the two had ended up naked in Alan's bed and made love. But unlike most drunken nights, neither of them regretted it. Alan had liked Milton for a long time and Milton had slowly developed feelings for the Brit. They continued like this secretly and one night, Milton learned of something terrible that had happened in Alan's childhood. They were both sitting in the living room drinking tea, the radio playing quietly in a corner...when Alan spoke of it.


“You see when I was young, I was bullied at school. They used all means of violence just to get a reaction out of me...but I never gave in to them. Christopher only friend. He was probably the only one who cared enough. He helped me...somehow. we...we both learned codes and such so that we could talk in our own language without other interfering. I...” Alan's voice broke a little. Milton reached out and took Alan's hand in his.


“ loved him, didn't you?” he asked him.


Alan nodded. A tear slowly fell from one of Alan's eyes.


“Alan, it's all right. You can tell me...just take your time.”


After a few deep breaths, Alan spoke again. “I...I did fall in love with him, yes. I was...I was going to tell him when we came back to school but...but...he died before I could tell him. He didn't...even...didn't even tell me he'd been ill.” and that's when the man broke down, leaning against Milton as he sobbed helplessly. Milton stayed where he was, slipping his arms around the man's shoulders, letting him pour out his emotions.




Months after that. The war finally came to an end, which was also meant that Milton had to report back home and leave Alan behind. They stayed inside Bletchley House in a quiet room, holding each other not watching to let go. Soon, Alan watched the American leave from the doorway of Bletchley and soon sulked his way home.




The months flew by into years and Milton was now hurrying back to see if Alan was...okay. A good friend of his, Leo, had offered to accompany Milton on his journey as he was starting a new job in Edinburgh as a sign of the war coming to a good and peaceful end. So, Milton took a local bus down to the small town where he hoped Alan would still be living. The bus stopped a mile from the house and Milton hopped down with his luggage. He waved a small thank and farewell to the bus driver before heading up the street to Alan's house. News from England had travelled far. The news of Alan being accused of indecency had created shock. Milton didn't want to believe it when he need about Alan. A war time hero being accused and found guilty of a crime which was stupid, a crazy law, it was disgusting. Milton couldn't believe that Englishman was being treated like that. So, Milton had decided that he would go back to England and see the damage those morons up in parliament had done to the man he loved.


Milton rapped on the door of the house, hoping that Alan would at least be inside. He didn't care if he was caught by nosy neighbours, he just wanted to know if he was okay. The door opened and there was Alan. Milton stared and Alan stared back. Alan looked pale. Paler than he'd seen him before. He looked sullen, tired almost. He was wearing his pyjamas and dressing gown. His hair wasn't exactly smoothed back but it seemed to be tamed a little.




“Good god, Alan. What--?”


“What are you doing here? How did you get here?”


“It's a long story.” said Milton with a smile. “Can I come in?”


“Oh, yes. Yes, of course.”


And Alan moved to one side allowing Milton inside. Inside the house, it was almost a mes. It wasn't like usual state that Milton had seen the house in. everything had been immaculate. wasn't. In another room, leading out of the living room, was Christopher. Milton smiled, happy to see the machine that had helped win the war. Alan shuffled past and picked up a dinner plate.


“S-sorry, you'll, er, have to excuse the mess. I, er, have been a little tired.”


Milton smiled. “It's fine.” Then he noticed something. Alan's hands were twitching. “Are you all right, Alan?” Your hands, they--.”


“Yes, they, um, it's part of this treatment that they've given me.”


“Treatment? For what, exactly?”


“For me being a homosexual. They charged me and gave me two choices. Either I went to jail or given treatment.”


“What? They didn't--.”


“Oh, no, there wasn't any electrocution involved. Just a chemical castration.”


“Castration! My god, Alan. Thy treated you as a hero, a few years ago and now, they're doing this. Don't they understand--.”


“Well, you see that's just the trouble, my dear Milton. They don't. They never will understand.”


“I don't...I don't care about what they think. They can go and shove it up their own asses of all I care. I only care about you. This is harming you! Look at you!” Milton took hold of Alan's hands and stared him in the eye. “You're tired, and I can see that. You can't even keep your hands still. How much sleep have you been getting?”


“Not much. Just a few hours.”


“A few hours? Alan, this is unhealthy. How you're being treated is unhealthy.”


“I've...I can't. I'm scared. This is not...”


“Alan...stop this. I love you for who you are. I told you that before I moved back to America. I don't want to see you go through this. I don't think I could live with myself if you went through this all the time. Please stop this. We'll stop this and get through this together.”


Alan stared down at the American in front of him. Slowly, he reached up, with shaking hands, to Milton's face and cupped it as best he could. A tear fell from Milton's eye of which Alan brushed away with a thumb. A broke sigh left the Englishman' lips following with a smile.


“Thank much, Milton. Since...the trial I...I needed something”


“Don't worry about it. I'm here for you now. You know what I think, I think you deserve a good night's sleep.”


“I-I-I-I'm not tired.”


“Yes, you are. I can see it in your eyes. Come on, I'll stay here and...maybe tidy the place up a little.”


Alan sighed and allowed Milton to take him up to his room. He was settled into the bed. His dressing gown draped over a chair. Alan snuggled under the covers and smiled sadly up at Milton who was sitting beside him.


“Milton, can...can I ask you something?”




“Will you stay?”


“Of course. I did say I was--.”


“No, I don't mean that. I with me. Stay with me until I fall asleep.”


Milton stared at Alan for a moment and then smiled. “Of course, I will. Now, budge up.”


Alan did so, creating some space for Milton to lie down. He wrapped his arms around the Brit and let his fingers play with the dark locks. He watched as the Englishman drifted off to sleep. He pressed a few gentle kisses along Alan's pale skin. Milton had missed it, feeling how smooth it felt. He promised then and there that he would do anything to protect Alan and make sure that he lived a good life with Milton at his side and no one else would bother him.


Chapter Text

There Must be an Angel – Eurythmics:


No one on earth could feel like this

I'm thrown and overflown with bliss

there must be an angel

playing with my heart


I walk into an empty room

and suddenly my heart goes boom

it's an orchestra of angels

and they're playing with my heart





Williams didn't even known how long he'd been stuck in this prison for but he knew it was too long. Dealing with Voorman who had been diagnosed with a god complex and somehow he'd switched places with him. So, now, he was suffering with the god complex syndrome not Voorman. Williams wasn't sure how he was going to work his way out of this but he had to. He was beginning to think that this sudden complex was taking his toll on him. A week or two after he'd switched places, he'd heard a soft chanting of a low, soothing voice singing a song. The voice seemed to go by his cell every night, as though calling to him. It had scared Williams shitless. It seemed to happen every night. Something in his mind told him that it was probably Voorman, coming to torment him, but another part said it wasn't. It was something else that was calling to him. He just didn't know what to do...other than panic.




One night, Williams was sleeping when he heard the deep seductive voice again. He felt himself begin to shake. He was growing scared. But why would a simple voice terrify him and not know who or what it was? Was it really Voorman trying to get his way again? Hadn't he bothered him enough? The former psychiatrist struggled to his feet and moved towards the door, to try and see who it was.


“Looking for me?”


Williams stared at the voice and spun round. Someone was standing in the shadows, he could see him, his shillouette. He could sense it. Williams gulped, his throat had gone dry.


“Who are you?” Williams asked. “How did you get in?”


A low chuckle sounded. “So many questions.”


Who are you?” Williams asked again.


“Surely.” the stranger began. “With your 'complex', you must know who I am I know you...”


“I don't.” Williams spat. “Now, tell me who you are before--.”


“They won't believe you. They won't see me. So, there will be no use of 'raising the alarm'. Now, to answer your question. My name is Islington. The Angel – Islington.”


Williams blinked. “Islington? There was no angel called Islington. The only Angel – Islington I know is the district in London.”


Islington chuckled. “True. That is true. But what I say is true. I am an angel. Well, a fallen one.”


“A fallen angel?”




“Show me.”


Islington moved out of the shadows and into the light cast in by the window. Williams could see that the supposed angel had pale skin, short black hair and crooked smile. He wore grey pants and a leather jacket with a blue scarf around his neck. Suddenly, a pair of black wings unfolded out of thin air and beat the air twice. They twitched and flexed as though they'd been hidden for too long.


“Do you believe me, now?” Islington asked.


“Jesus Christ.” Williams whimpered as he collapsed to the ground.


Islington chuckled, as he unfolded his wings. He moved closer to Williams and knelt in front of him. “I'll take that as a yes.”


Williams' eyes suddenly snapped back up to the...angel in front of him. “,it's you that I've been hearing every night.”


“Yes.” Islington purred. “I was informed by...two assiocates of mine that someone with a 'god complex' was in here. I'd seen this man before a few times, but I think he never saw me, but...I could sense that there was a shift. A passing. As though...”


“The complex went from one to another, you mean?” Williams asked. “Yes. Some weirdo was stuck in here with that. He was in this cell before he traded places with me.”


“Oh, I see.” the angel said, as though realising something. “Voorman warned me about your little fiery temper. Apparently, he could hear you from a mile away” the angel chuckled.


Williams' eyes narrowed. “How the bloody hell do you know him?”


“He was the one who told me about you. You see, his 'god complex' – as you call it – showed him, you and I in this very cell. Fallen angels usually don't second chances and yet Fate intervened and gave me one.”


“ this was planned?”


“Naturally. That's why he chose you. Out of all of those moronic men and women, who thought that they could crack him, you finally made it here.”


“But why me? How can I help you?”


Islington didn't say anything but shifted closer to Williams. A hand, strong and yet smooth grasped Williams' leg tightening the straight jacket even more. Even in the darkness, Williams could see that Islington was too close for comfort. Then he felt a pair of cold lips against his own. His eyes widened and could feel himself being drawn in by the caress of the angel's lips. But as soon as it started, Islington drew away.


“That could be a start.” the angel purred. “But I must hurry back. I'll look forward to seeing you again, my dear Williams.”


Williams shivered as he heard his name roll off Islington's lips. He watched in awe as the angel got to his feet. One of his wings lightly brushed against the former psychiatrist's cheek. The angel stepped back and, with a twitch of his wings, disappeared into the darkness.


Chapter Text

Black Magic – Little Mix:


take a sip of my secret potion

one taste and you'll be mine

it's spell that can't be broken,

it'll be keep you all night

boy you belong to me

I got the recipe

and it's called black magic

(and it's called black magic)




If it had not been for Bilbo's little blunder, they wouldn't have gotten into the situation. But John can assure anyone that if they had not gone into the wizard's cottage then Bilbo wouldn't have stumbled upon the cabinet of potions and ruined the cottage when they...changed. Now, they had to find a way out of this mess...and that was to find the wizard who made them what they were now!


And they were dragons. John had changed into a large green dragon. His scales were dmasked like a camoflague. Bilbo was the smallest of them, not by much but small nonetheless. His scales were that of an autumn brown that seemed to match his hair. Peter was a sleek dragon with sky blue scales that went so well with the blue tie, he always wore. Julian was snow white dragon but his blue eyes stood out like ice and seemed to match well with his lover, Oliver, who slightly smaller than him. He had white and blue scales. Khan was the largest of the group and had black scales with a small smudge of silver on his paws. Like Julian, his eyes were that of icy blue, but as Julian's were full of humour and mirth, Khan's were harsh and cold – as though one look would kill anyone who bothered or looked at him. The six were now travelling through a forest, trying to keep low, in case of hunters and villagers that would easily spread panic. John and Bilbo kept to the front, Julian and Oliver in the middle and Peter and Khan at the rear. Khan and Peter both had eyes like a hawk and awesome reflexes but Khan's were sharper than Peter's. But who knows how both of them would fair as dragons if they were to be ambushed.


The problem was they'd travelled for so long that they were growing tired – except for Khan – and needed to rest. So, they stopped in a clearing and Peter and Khan went on ahead to see if there was any water or food. Julian and Oliver curled around each other like cats around a fire. Bilbo lay on the ground but John stayed on his feet. He though it would be best to stay alert. He hadn't served five years in the army for nothing!


“So, what, now?” Bilbo asked.


John looked to him. “What?”


“What do we do now?” Bilbo asked.


“Rest, of course.” John smiled. “Then we'll move on. Just hope Peter and Khan don't go too far.”


“Khan's more sense than that.” Julian piped up. “So, does Peter. They'll be back before you know it.”


John rolled his eyes. Oliver lifted his head from Julian's back. “What if there's other dragons here?” he asked. “What then?”


“We'll have to keep our distance.” said Bilbo. “and maybe they'll leave us alone.”


“Hopefully.” mumbled Julian.


Bilbo shifted in his place. “By the gods, dragon scales are uncomfy.”


“Settle in while you can.” John said, still keeping an eye out. “Who knows how long we'll be like this?”


There was movement, which put all of them into defensive stances. It turned out to be Peter, his light blue scales giving him away. A sigh of relief rang out.


“Bloody hell, Peter!” gasped John.


“Sorry, guys, but Khan found a lake. Problem is, it looks to be a couple of miles away.


“How does he know?” Oliver asked.


“He flew up to have a look.”


“He gave himself away?!”


“He may have, he might not have. We couldn't smell anyone around.” explained Peter.


“Well, let's hope there isn't. Come on, guys. Let's go.”


The dragon moved out of the clearing and caught up with Khan, who was sniffing the air.


“What's wrong, Khan?” Bilbo asked, but Khan gently shushed him and continued sniffing the air.


“Someone else is here.” Khan said, keeping his voice low. “Possibly another dragon. They seem to be far off. If we hurry now, we might lose them.”


So, they moved off with Khan leading them towards the lake. They must have gotten halfway when they saw a huge dragon. Bilbo recognised the dragon to be a fire drake. He was at least twenty feet in length, maybe more. His scales crimson red or possibly of rubies. The fire drake's eyes were gold and cat like slits for pupil. His paws were equipped with sharp talons like spears. The dragon had just been crawling out of a cave mouth and it wasn't long before the dragon saw them.


Or rather Bilbo.


The dragon blinked in awe and slunk over to him. Bilbo looked up at the red dragon. He was bigger than Khan. Way bigger!




The dragon sniffed Bilbo a few times and smiled, a low rumble escaped his throat. “Well, well, well...aren't you cute?” the dragon purred.


Bilbo couldn't help but shiver as he heard the dragon's voice for the first time. It was deep, a baritone quality. And yet seductive.


“M-me?” the little dragon asked.


“Of course.” the dragon replied. “I am looking at you.”


“Heh,” Bilbo laughed, awkwardly. “Yes, silly me.”


The dragon leaned in a little more and sniffed at Bilbo's neck. “And you smell gorgeous.”


“Umm, thank-thank you.” Bilbo stammered as the dragon came too close far comfort and Bilbo looked to the others who were watching with amusement. The dragon then moved his head and began nuzzling Bilbo. “W-what are you doing?” he squeaked.


Khan moved forwards in case the dragon tried anything more, but Peter stopped him.


“What are you doing?” Peter questioned.


“Stopping him.” Khan hissed.


“Khan, you never get in the way of a dragon when they've found a mate!” Peter whispered.


“A mate?!” Bilbo cried and then was jumped on top of by the dragon.


“Yes, that you are.” the dragon purred as he suddenly grinded himself against Bilbo making the smaller dragon whimper.


“Oh, I don't want to see that.” said John and he turned away.


Bilbo writhed against the fire dragon and managed to crawl out from under him. “Shouldn't we at least get to know each other? In fact, I don't even know your name.”


“My name is Smaug, little one,” Smaug said, moving back towards Bilbo again. “And yours?”


“B-Bilbo.” the little brown dragon muttered, trying to back away as Smaug tried to corner him, but Bilbo ended up crawling underneath the fire drake.


“Hmm, sounds very beautiful for my mate.” Smaug said, leaping back so that he could see Bilbo better.


Bilbo's cheeks suddenly became red with the compliments. John rolled his eyes.


“Come on,” he said. “We better get to the lake and head on.”


“Yes, we must.” said Bilbo, slinking away but was caught up by Smaug's tail and was dragged to his side. “John! John!”


“Sorry, Bilbo. Magic can't solve this problem.” Julian called as the five dragons moved off, leaving Bilbo struggling against a lovestruck and purring Smaug.




The five dragons made it to lake. Julian and Oliver dove head first in, sighing as the cool water brushed over their scales. Khan, Peter and John sat on the bank. But John couldn't help but look out in the direction they'd come from and left Bilbo.


“Do you think he'll be okay?” John asked, glancing over at Peter.


“Who knows.” Peter said, with a shrug. “But we know that Bilbo can look after himself. Remember how we took on those spiders by himself. Never asked one of us for any help. Maybe he'll find that Smaug is a good mate and like him.”


“And how is Bilbo supposed to talk his way out,” asked Khan after finishing his fill of water. “When Bilbo changes back into a Hobbit?”


Peter paused for a moment before saying. “Run for our lives?”


John couldn't help but snigger. Khan sighed and watched Julian and Oliver crawl out of the water. Peter stretched.


“I'm going to have a small look round, maybe see if there's somewhere we can camp before we move again.”


With approval, the blue dragon moved off. John sighed. “I better see if Bilbo's okay. I don't understand why we left in the first place.”


Khan didn't say anything but gave a single nod of his head and John moved back the way they'd come from.




Before, Bilbo didn't like being in the company of Smaug at first. The former Hobbit now dragon had felt sufficated and overwhelmed by the dragon's advances, but now with Smaug's tail still wrapped around his torso, Bilbo was loving the caresses and ministrations that he was given. He could feel his tail curl and uncurl at the feel of Smaug's warm breath on his scales and the gentle nips of his teeth going along Bilbo's neck. He lay beside Smaug on a huge bed – or nest – of gold, trinkets and precious gems. Not along after John and the others had gone for water, Smaug had persuaded Bilbo to join him in his cave. According to Smaug, he'd collected the gold and treasure hoard from bandits and theives that had foolishly come to 'invade' his territory and other dragons'. Bilbo blinked.


“There's...other dragons out there?” he asked.


“Yes.” rumbled Smaug, beside Bilbo's ear. “I know there's more likely a dozen or more, but I've only met three. But today, I met six more.”


Bilbo froze a little at those words. By the gods, how was he going to tell Smaug that his appearance as a dragon was fake and that he was really a Hobbit? But his thoughts were interrupted when Smaug shifted a little on top of him.


“You ever mated with a dragon before?” the fire drake asked him.


“N-no.” Bilbo stuttered. Oh, gods, he wasn't ready for this!


“Then, don't worry, my dear little Bilbo.” Smaug whispered in his ear. “I'll very gentle with you.”


Bilbo bit his lip as Smaug moved down his scaly body...and was soon lost in ecstasy.




Peter cursed under his breath. He was lost and had probably gone too far from the lake. He considered flying to the tree tops and seeing where the lake was, but he didn't want to give himself away. So, he stayed low. The blue dragon soon came across a stream. It looked to be something out of a fairytale. With a trickling waterfall and a small brook. But then he realised that he wasn't alone. There sitting half on the bank and half in the stream was a dragon of the palest gold. It's sleek streamlined wings were folded back. Peter slowly drew near to the dragon and saw a horrible gash on the dragon's hind leg. The dragon leaned down with a reaching claw and, with a scoop of water, splashed it against the wound.


“Having a good look, are you?”


Peter jumped, looking around to see who had spoke and realised that it was the gold dragon. The dragon was staring at him with a smirk and slowly got to his feet, but his hind leg hovered. Peter stood there transfixed. He found this gold creature to be absolutely beautiful. The gold dragon moved closer to Peter who just stood there stupidly. The dragon smirked and stopped in front of the other.


“I've never seen you before.” the dragon said. “Who are you?”


“I...” stuttered Peter. “I...I-I-I-I...” damn it, why was he acting like this?!


“You don't even remember your name?” the dragon asked.


“I...I... of course, I do.” Peter said, finally getting his words out. “My name is Peter.”


“Peter, eh? Suits ya.” the dragon said. Then he leaned in and sniffed at Peter's neck. “Mmmm, what a scent! You smell really good.”


Peter gulped as the dragon moved well in his personal space and felt his heart beat repeatedly in his head.


“I'm Hector. You may need to remember that for when you scream it...later~.”


Peter didn't know why but he though he might collapsed at any moment at what Hector was doing to him. Gods, and he thought Smaug was bad when he tried to seduce Bilbo.


Gods, Bilbo! Where was he? Had he returned from Smaug's adventures?! No, he couldn't have, the whole forest would have known.


“You seem a little distracted, Peter?” cooed Hector. “What's on your mind?”


Peter allowed Hector to nuzzle him under the chin before answering. He really needed a clear head. “It's just my friend, Bilbo. I'm worried for him. Another dragon took a fancy to him and we...sort of left him with the dragon.”


Hector chuckled. “Don't worry. We dragons are very passionate when it comes to our mates.”


“I know. I told my friend, Khan, that. But the thing is Bilbo is small compared to that fire drake.”


Hector froze and looked up at Peter. “Did...did you say fire drake?”




“Jesus fu—there's only one fire drake around here. Gods, he could do anything to him!”


“What do you mean?”


“There's to time. Help me up the slope and show me where you left him.”


“I'll have to take you to my friends first.” Peter slipping under Hector's wing and helped him up.


“We'll have to be quick.”




Khan sighed. He never would have admitted it to the others but he was starting to feel tired. All the travelling he'd done had taken his toll on him and he wanted a long rest. He was also sick of looking at Julian and Oliver lounge in the sun and acting all lovey dovey. So, the ex-convict took a small walk around the lake. It was true thaat Khan was once a criminal. A wanted criminal, at that! But he'd served his time and had become friends with Peter and the others and went on many little adventures that kept Khan well out of trouble.


As Khan came to the small bend of the lake, he noticed movement in the water. Nothing went passed Khan's eyes as he'd once been trained to be a good look out, but this, this made Khan feel unsure as he'd only just caught it. He kept his eyes fixed on that spot, waiting for it to move again.


Then he spotted something under the water. A pair of blue-green eyes stared at him from under the water's surface. Slowly, the eyes emerged from the water to reveal an auburn brown dragon, crawling out of the water. Khan could help but take in this dragon's beauty. His eyes were beautiful captivating. The creature smaller than Khan but bigger than Bilbo. As the dragon reached the bank, it smiled.


“Hello, there.” he said.


“Hello.” Khan replied.


“Are you new here?” the dragon asked, flickering this wings like a butterfly.


“Yes, I am.” Khan said. “Me and my friends have come from a long way away.”


“Yes, I see.” the dragon said. “Oh, where are my manners? I'm Arthur. And you are?”


“Oh, I'm Khan.”


“Well, it's good to meet you, Khan.” Arthur then noticed the other two lying not to far away. “Are those friends of yours?”


“That's Julian and Oliver. They're love sick, the pair of them.” Khan grumbled.


“Well, dragons can be like that.” joked Arthur, but Khan snorted.


“That's the trouble, though. They're not dragons. We all aren't dragons.”


Arthur blinked. “You're not dragons? You look like it to me.”


“That's because you're seeing the work of a potion. We were in a wizard's cottage and one of my friends knocked over some potions and we then woke up like this.”


Arthur chuckled. “What were you doing inside a wizard's hut?”


“It was raining and there was no other means of shelter.”


“Fair enough. So, you three all got turned into dragons.”


“And another three.” said Khan. “Peter is off scouting the area for a good place to sleep and John's looking around...and Bilbo...well, he's off mating with another dragon.”


“You left him to mate with another dragon?” echoed Arthur.


“I thought you never got in the way of a dragon mating with another?”


“It's true, you don't. But if he's human—.”


“He's a Hobbit, actually.”


Arthur gasped. “Goodness!”


Before anyone could say another word, Peter appeared from trees, helping a dragon of the palest gold, who was limping.


“Hector!” Arthur gasped. “What happened?”


“Long story, Artie.” Hector said, as they grouped together. “Listen, we need to find your friend, Bilbo, before Smaug goes further.”


“Smaug? What's he—?” Then the penny dropped for Arthur. He looked Khan. “Is this what you were talking about?”


Khan nodded. “We all can't go and get him, yet.” he said


“Why not?” asked Oliver.


“We need John.” Khan said. “We need to find John, and fast.”


“Huh,” Hector scoffed. “Unless that freak found him first.”


“Hector!” Arthur spat, whacking the gold dragon over the head with his tail. “Don't call Sherlock that! He isn't a freak.”


“Say all you want.” Hector spat. “But he is.”


Arthur sighed. “We better find John and quickly. If he is with Sherlock, he can help us get back Bilbo.”


“If you're sure.” Hector mumbled.




Meanwhile, John was still walking in the woods. He wasn't able to find anything that would lead them to the wizard. He was considering turning back. As he turned round to go back the way he came, he heard a voice.


“Lost, are we?”


John looked around and saw to his right a large dragon, possibly the same size as Khan, with dark blue scales and the bluest eyes he'd ever seen. Almost like Khan and Julian's but there was something else about them that John couldn't put his finger on.


“No, I'm not. Just...looking.”


“What are you looking for?” the dragon asked.


“Just seeing what's around. I've never been here before—.”


“Let me guess. You've come from a long way away. Looking for something but you didn't travel alone. You're worried for one of them. Why is that I wonder?”


John stared. “How the bloody hell did you know that?”


“I saw it in your claws. Dirty, had not time to bathe. You said you've never been here so you must have come from a long way.” the dragon came a little closer to John, making him feel a little uncomfortable.


John sidled back and turned to go but then he yelped as he felt something sharp on his tail. He looked round and saw the dragon with his tail in his mouth. John snarled. He moved his tail away from the dark blue dragon's mouth and whacked him over the head.


“Cut that out!” he snarled. The dragon snorted, shaking it's head. “The bloody hell do you think you're playing at?”


“Sorry. I...”




Both dragons turned to a see a small mob of dragons hurry over to them, with two other dragons John did not recognise.


“What's going on?” John asked as he came close.


A gold dragon that was being supported by Peter saw the dark blue dragon and groaned. “Oh, great, you're here.”


“Nice to see you too, Dixon.” the dragon said. “I see that you were dealing with Maynard again.”


“Shut up, Sherlock!” the gold dragon hissed.


“Will you two quit arguing?” said an auburn dragon. “Sherlock, Smaug has one of their friends. We need to stop him before know.”






Bilbo watched as Smaug moved off through the treasure hoard, to find something for them to eat. When the fire drake's long tail flicked out of the sight, Bilbo lay on his side with a blissful sigh. Mating with a fully fledged fire drake was something Bilbo thought he'd never do. In fact, if he went back in time and told himself he'd had sex with one, he probably wouldn't believe it...until now! Problem was Bilbo wasn't sure how he was going to break it to Smaug that he was actually a Hobbit. He hoped that Smaug wouldn't burn him to a crisp. He wanted to say goodbye to his friends before dying. He wondered how the others were faring.




Bilbo looked round at the sudden noise. But there was no one around except for himself and the mass of gold. He shrugged it off and settled back on the gold and waited for Smaug to come back.


“Bilbo,” said the voice again. “Bilbo, over here.”


Bilbo looked round and saw Peter peeking out from a cave entrance. “Peter?” he whispered.


“Yes, I'm not alone though.”


Bilbo's eyes widened. Quietly, the little dragon got from his place and moved over to where the others where waiting. With them were three dragons that Bilbo had never seen before. One was gold, one was dark blue and the last was that of an auburn brown.


“What are you all doing here?” Bilbo hissed.


“We've come to get you, Bilbo.” said Oliver. “Smaug hasn't...?”


“Oh.” spoke the dark blue dragon. “but he has. You can small it on him. You've probably done it a few times maybe several.”


“Sherlock, please.” hissed the auburn dragon.


“Bilbo,” said John, moving close to the small dragon. “You didn't?”


“Yes.” Bilbo said, defiantly. “Yes, I did. He's right. Smaug made me his mate, so what?”


“Bilbo,” the auburn dragon spoke. “Smaug didn't force himself on you?”


“No, he didn't!” Bilbo snarled, offended.




Bilbo's eyes widened at the sound of the familiar voice. He turned to see the red dragon had returned and was moving over to him. When Smaug caught sight of the others behind Bilbo, he growled.


“What are you three doing here?”


“Stopping you from mating with this dragon, here.” spat the gold dragon. “It's not what it seems.”


“The hell do you know?” Smaug hissed, his wings flexing threateningly. “Bilbo is my mate, now. It's too late.”


“Smaug,” Peter said. “Bilbo cannot be your mate. Tell the truth, we can't have dragon mates.”


Smaug blinked his golden eyes. “What do you mean? What are you--?”


Bilbo sighed. “, Peter, John, Khan, Julian and Oliver are not fellow dragons. I...I'm sorry...sorry to lie and deceive you but I...I cannot lie to you anymore. I...I do want nothing more than to be your mate but I don't see how...” then he stopped, noticing Smaug shaking with mirth. “Why, why are you laughing?”


Smaug managed to control his laughter before replying to him mate. “I'm sorry, my dear Bilbo. I did not mean to poke fun but you have no reason to worry.” he then looked towards the three dragons with a small glare. “In fact, I don't even know why they didn't tell you all in the first place.”


“What do you mean?” asked Peter.


Smaug looked to the sky blue dragon. “We dragons can take shape. Only two, though. Both dragon and human.”


“H-human?” stuttered Khan, looking between the four dragons.


None of the dragon spoke. Slowly, the four dragon shifted forms and became human. Smaug was the tallest in both human dragon form. He had tousled wavy black hair, pale skin with his usual gold eyes. Red horns sat on his head, his usual huge red wings sat on his back folded and a long tail that peaked out his red and and gold robes. The gold dragon had changed into a man that looked similarly to John but his hair was more blonde and he wore a suit, but a black turtle neck jumper. His eyes looked to be darker than John's, too. The auburn dragon changed into a man that was similar to John and the man who had been the gold dragon, but his hair was short and reddish brown. He wore green robes and he smiled, kindly at those around him and blushed as he looked to Khan. The last one – the dark blue dragon – was about the same height as Khan, as he had been in his dragon form, with curly wild black hair, blue eyes and impossible cheekbones! He wore long black robes with a sash on the wait that was a dark blue colour.


“I don't believe this.” mumbled Oliver.


“How-how are you able to—?” Bilbo asked.


“To change?” said Smaug. “It's something all dragons tend to do. But most of us prefer our dragon forms to human. But for you, we can make an exception.”


“So,” started Peter. “Will you help us find this wizard so that we can back to our human selves?”


“Of course, we can.” smiled Arthur.


And so after a few weeks of searching and using Sherlock's intellect, they found out only one wizard...but two, by the names of Gandalf and Dumbledore. The wizards, after hearing the story, gave the others the same ability as Smaug and the others and given a map for them to head home. So, they did and soon lived together in Smaug's cave where they all could live happily.


Chapter Text

Do You Wanna Build a Snowman? - Frozen (Disney OST):


Do you wanna build a snowman

come on, let's go and play




Erebor. The Lonely Mountain was home to Smaug the dragon, his Hobbit mate, Bilbo Baggins, and their six drakelings. Winter had arrived on Middle Earth and fell heavily, covering every inch of the temporary barren land. Frost danced across the water freezing the surface solid. A door – or what had once been a door – opened up to reveal a small child with long wavy dark hair. She gazed out at the snowy scene before her with a big grin on her face. She called out to her fellow siblings who hurried to the door and chattered excitedly at the sight of the snow. Then they scurried back inside, closing the door and hurried off to wake their parents.




When Smaug had laid the eggs that had contained his and Bilbo's children, he and the Hobbit had to wait at least eight week for them to hatch. When they did, Bilbo thought it best for their babies to be brought somewhere, other than the gold. So, they moved the babies to one of the bedrooms and slept with the babies there, keeping them warm and safe. During the years, they stayed in the grand bedroom, Bilbo knew that Smaug missed sleeping on his large bed of gold and brought it up but Smaug told him that he didn't want to be apart from his family. Thank goodness he was able to change his form. Soon, their drakelings grew up with Bilbo teaching them literature, mathematics and Smaug teaching them their first breath of fire, how to hunt and fly. They moved back into the grand hall where the drakelings loved to play hide and seek amongst the treasure hoard and picking up different pieces and 'claiming' them as their own. Which Bilbo found annoying, especially when they argued over the same pieces.


Now, Bilbo and Smaug were sleeping in the grand hall, not noticing the absence of their children. Smaug was in his true form, curled up with Bilbo lying by his head, warm and safe by his mate and husband. Then the sleeping couple were suddenly bombarded by six drakelings.


“Papa! Papa! It's snowing.”


“Father, wake up!”


“Father, there's now!”


“Can we go out, today?”


“Papa, we need to build a snowman!”


“No, a snowball fight.”


“One at the time.” Bilbo mumbled as he stretched in his sleep. Smaug yawned loudly. The movement caused Freya, Cai and Leif to tumble into the treasure.


“What's all the fuss about, my little ones?” their father asked.


“Winter's come, father.” said Carina. “There's snow all over Erebor.”


“Yes.” piped up Aurelius. “So, can we go outside?”


“And build a snowman, papa.” finished Oria. Bilbo and Smaug looked to each other, with knowing smiles. They then looked to their drakelings, who were waiting eagerly for their reply.


“I think it sounds like a good idea.” Smaug purred, which was soon replied by the cheering of their children.”


Soon after Bilbo wrapped their children with warm clothing and scarves, the family headed out along the halls and out into the cold air. The drakelings squealed in excitement and ploughed into the snow. Freya, Oria, Carina and Leif had started a snow ball fight whilst Cai and Aurelius started on a snowman with Bilbo. Smaug sat in his dragon form, nearby like a guard dog. Aurelius finished rolling out the base of his snowman when a snowball hit him on the back of the head.


“Hey!” he snapped, turning on his siblings. “What was that for?”


“Sorry, Aurelius.” said Carina. “Freya ducked.”


“No, you just have a poor aim.” Freya shot.


“Do not!”


“Do, too.”


“Do not!”


“You do!”


“Freya, Carina!” said Smaug, moving in between them. “Stop arguing.”


“Sorry, father.” the girls chorused.


“Good, now apologise to each other.”


The girls did and happily went back to their 'fight'. Bilbo walked over his husband. Smaug lowered his head down to his husband's level. The Hobbit laid a gentle hand on his husband's muzzle.


“Certainly know how to crack the whip.” he teased.


Smaug rumbled a low laugh and looked out over his children. All six of them now joining the fight. “Well, I didn't have a father not mother to teach me such things. I guess I learnd from the best for what is to come.”


“I guess you did.” Bilbo smiled, planting a kiss on the scales.


“Hmm, and maybe to learn again in the future months.”


Bilbo blinked at his husband's words. “What do you mean? Future months? Are...?” then Bilbo's look of confusion changed to one of relisation. “Smaug, you''re...”


“With child again. Yes.” said Smaug, quietly. “I may have felt the stirring of eggs last night. How many, I am not sure.”


Bilbo smiled and gave another kiss to his muzzle, hugging as much as he could of the dragon.


“But let's wait until the children are done playing.” Smaug mumbled.


“Yes.” agreed Bilbo. “They've got enough excitement on their hands.”


“Still.” the fire drake said. “It'll be lovely to have more darling drakelings around.”


“And I'm happy to have them with you.” Bilbo said, stroking his mate's scales lovingly. The two smiled at one another before looking out at their children, who would soon have more siblings on the way.


Chapter Text

Bleeding Love – Leona Lewis:


but I don't care what they say

I'm in love with you

they try to pull me away

but they don't know the truth

my heart's crippled my the vein

that I keep on closing

you cut me open and I




Julian had been dragged along by his boyfriend, Oliver, on this 'Golden Mile' that he'd been asked to take part of, by one of his lover's friends. The white blonde haired male didn't know why Oliver considered Gary to be a friend because of how he acted. Julian could also see the hostility in Gary's eyes as as Oliver announced when Julian was joining them but he was glad that the others had accepted him. So, Julian made a mental note to stick by Oliver throughout the night. After finishing off their drinks, they headed off to the next pub, The Old Familiar.


“So, Jules,” Gary asked as they walked along the streets of Newton Haven. “How long have you and O-man been banging for?”


“Banging?” Julian asked.


“He means shagging – and Gary, it's really not any of your business.” Oliver snarled.


“Oh, come on, O-man. We're all dying to know, aren't we, lads?”


“No,” Andy, Pete and Steve chorused.




Julian snorted his laughter. “Well, it's not my right to give blowjobs and tell, Gary, but me and Ollie have been together eight years.”


“Why did you say it like that for?” Oliver snapped making Julian snigger.


“Really?” Gary asked. “How many blowjobs?”


“Christ, Gary!” They entered the second pub and Julian felt exactly what Oliver said. “Now, I have deja vu.”


It was very like the first pub from almost every inch. Down to the minutest detail. Gary stepped forward and grabbed the drinks. They sat down at a table and soon the table was doused in silence. As Oliver took a sip from his drink, Julian slipped his hand down intertwined his fingers with the estate agent's. Oliver cast a look to his boyfriend and they smiled at each other.


“So, how was the funeral, Gary?” Peter asked.




“Your mum's funeral?” Andy reminded him.


Gary took a huge gulp of his drink. “It's difficult to put in into words. But if I had to choose three, I'd say...'really, really sad'. Wait...that's two.”


Julian looked over at his boyfriend with a look as if to say 'seriously'. Oliver shrugged and took a sip of his drink. Andy spoke again.


“It's a shame.” he said, mournfully. “She was a good woman. I liked your mum.”


“Yeah.” said Gary. “Me, too.”


“Hello.” Oliver said, a little loudly making everyone at the table look at him.


“Hello, mate.”said Gary.


Julian rolled his eyes. How stupid was this man?


“Are you here?” Oliver asked.


“I've been here for ages.” Gary said, with a shrug.


“Fuck's sake.” Julian muttered, taking a drink from his beer. Oliver shushed them both and motioned his earpiece to Gary.


“You got lost on the ring-road again?” there was a pause before Oliver spoke again. “This is Newton Haven.” Another pause. “What time are you meeting the twins?” the blonde estate agent waited for another answer. “We're all at The Old Familiar. Come by if you want.” Oliver laughed and looked over at Julian. “Yeah, Julian's here. You can meet him.”


“Tell her I said 'hi'.” Julian said, moving his arm around Oliver's shoulders.


“Oh, Julian says hi, by the way.” Oliver laughed again, but it was cut short and he looked to Gary. “Yeah...yeah, he's here. Okay. See you soon.” And he pressed a button on his earpiece.


Gary spoke up. “Who was that, O-man?”


Oliver scowled. “Don't call me, 'O-man', Gary, and if you must was Sam.”


“Sam's here?!” Gary and Steven piped up, eager.


“Is there a fucking echo in here?” Oliver asked, looking at Julian, who pulled a face. “Yes, Sam's here. She's down from Manchester. We're gonna be driving down to our mum's tomorrow. Julian's going to meet her. But I guess you'll be meeting Sam earlier than planned.” he said, directing the last part to Julian.


“Can't wait to see her.”


“And,” Steven interrupted, starting to act like an eager puppy. “Sam's coming here now?”


“Calm down, Steve.” said Gary. “I saw her first.”


Oliver groaned. “For fuck sake, not this again.”


Julian looked to his boyfriend. “Not this what?”


“Are you fucking kidding me?” Steve scoffed, sounding almost offended by Gary's words. “I saw her first. Wow, you really have selective memory, don't you?”


“Someone else was saying that.”


“Yeah,” growled Andy. “Me.”


“No, I would have remembered.”


“I told you I had a thing about Sam,” Steven snarled. “Than you proceeded to try and get in her pants at every opportunity.”


“Guys, please--.” Oliver said, trying desperately to change the topic but Steven and Gary ignored him.


“You only like her after you found out I liked her.” Steven said, accusingly.


Suddenly, a look of realisation popped up on Gary's face. “That's right, you did Cabaret at school because she was in it and she wore those fishnet tights and you got a big old boner on stage.”


Julian saw Steven's cheeks go red and Oliver's head fell against Julian's shoulder with a murmur of “Jesus Christ...”. He could hear the annoyance in his lover's voice and couldn't understand why none of his 'mates' could see his uncomfortable state.


“Don't matter anyway.” Gary said, picking up his beer glass. “I think she had a massive wide on for Adrian Keane.”


“I hate that prick.” Steven growled.


Julian sighed. “Do you two pricks not see how uncomfortable Oliver is with you two bumbling about his sister?”


“Yes, thank you, Julian. Can we just not talk about my sister in relation to: a) a massive wide on's and b) Steven's erect penis?”


“Of course.” Gary said but it didn't stop there. “Is she still fit though?”


“I'm not going to answer that.”


“Sure. Is she though?”


“Am I what?” said a voice.


They all looked round to see a tall blonde haired woman wearing a red coat.


“Fit.” Gary purred. Steven got to his feet with a rushed. “Hi, Sam.”


Sam's eyes turned to the dark haired male. “Steve? You've grown, haven't you?”


“Yeah, sideways.” muttered Gary.


“You look fantastic.” Sam continued, staring at Steven in amazement.


“Steroids.” Gary coughed. Julian pulled a face at him.


But Sam ignored him. “, long time. Hi, Pete.” then she saw Oliver and Julian. “All right, big brother?” she cooed as she tried to ruffle his hair but he battered her away. She smiled at Julian. “And this must be the famous Julian Assange? I've heard so much about you.”


Julian smiled and held out his hand to Sam. “Your brother's too modest when it comes to me.”


“Shut up.” Oliver said, nudging his elbow into Julian's side.


“But seriously, it's good to meet you, Sam.”


“Likewise.” Sam smiled. “I'm pleased my brother's found someone that makes him happy.”


Julian smiled and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gary fake-vomiting. The blonde female then noticed him and scowled.


“Gary.” Sam said with clear evidence of venom in voice.


“Wilkommen. Bienvenue. Welcome.” Gary said, the smug tone returning.


“Would you like a drink, Sam?” Steven asked, acting like a puppy again.


“Slow down!” Gary said. “She's only got just here. Sam, would you like a drink?”


But Sam ignored the idiot and spoke to Steven. “Vodka tonic, thanks, Steven. I'm just going to nip to the loo.”


And she left them to it. Soon, Gary followed, making Oliver growl.


“Is he always like that?” Julian asked.


“Yep.” Oliver, Andy and Peter chorused. Steven had left to go to the bar.


“And what's this 'war' thing over your sister?”


“I thought we weren't gonna discuss that, since it made me uncomfortable.”


“Sorry, but I just can't help but...”


“Jules, please...drop it.”


“Fine, okay then.” Julian took a sip of his drink.


“So, how did you two meet then?” Andy asked.


Oliver smiled and looked to Julian. “You want tell them or shall I?”


“You can. You tell it better.” Julian said as Steven came back with a vodka tonic for Sam.


“Tell what better? And where's Sam and Gary?”


“Julian and Oliver's gonna tell us about how they met.” said Andy. “Gary, I have no idea and Sam went to the ladies.”


“Oh, well, we could do with some good news.”


“Well,” Oliver said, sliding his arm around Julian's waist. “It was when I was at a Christmas party with work and there was other people in the club including Julian and his friends. After an hour or two, some friends got me up to dance and I bumped into Julian.”


“He did nothing but stammer his apologies to me. I told him not to worry and offered him a dance. Thankfully, he accepted.”


“Then,” Oliver cut in. “After it was time for us to go, he gave me his number and we've been together since then.”


“Well, we're pleased for ya, mate.” Andy said, raising his glass of water to them.


“Thanks, Andy. It means a lot.” Oliver said. “Even if Gary likes to poke his fucking--.”


“Ah, don't listen to him, mate.” said Steven. “I don't think Gary's ever given a shit about us. Through thick or thin, we've been there for him and if it was the other way around, he ignores it.”


Oliver shrugged.


“So, why put up with him?” Julian asked.


“'Cause he's a mate.” Peter said, with a small shrug. “Friends stick together, no matter what. We sometimes may act like we don't give a damn about him truth, we care about him.”


“Speak for yourself.” Andy muttered.


“And that's the reason why you decided to do this?”


“Well, it's important to him, Julian.” Oliver said. “Fuck knows why, but it is and we know that.”


Julian smiled at his lover and was about to kiss him when Gary bounded over, looking a little disgruntled, followed not so close behind by Sam.


“Oliver, I'll see you later.” she said.


Oliver looked up at her. “What? You're going? You're meeting the twins, now?”


“No, I'm not.” Sam then put something thin and rectangular on the table and glared at Gary. “I believe this is yours.” she turned back to Julian with a smile. “It was lovely meeting you, Julian.”


“Likewise.” the Australian said, and she left. Julian looked round to question Gary and found that he was holding up a sign saying 'Out of Order'.


“Private joke.” he said, laughing meekly.


“I don't want to know.” Oliver said, shaking his head.




Sometime afterwards, the group left the pub to head on to the next one. Julian prayed that the night would end quickly as he wanted to spend some alone time with Oliver. As they walked along the streets, they spotted a weird looking sculpture, of which Oliver commented it looked like a memorial monument to modern art. When they arrived at the third pub, the lads had noticed someone that they'd known called 'Mad Basil' but had not been in the pub long enough before being kicked out as Gary was barred from the pub, much to Gary's displeasure. So, they moved onto the fourth pub, The Crossed Hands. Julian then learned that they spent a New Years in the pub were Andy fallen asleep on the pool table and had been pranked by his friends into thinking he'd slept through the year until 1991. But then the conversation changed.


“That was a great night.” Peter sighed, almost reminiscing.


“Didn't you manage to get off with Erica Leekes, Peter?” Andy asked the said male.


“I did.” Peter said, with a smile. “Something of a personal triumph, if I say so myself.”


“She of the Marmalade Sandwich fame?” Oliver asked.


“The very same.” Peter said.


“Marmalade Sandwich?” Julian asked.


“Erica Leekes, Tracy Benson and Becky Salt. Two blondes and a red head in the middle.” Oliver explained.


“And they were called the Marmalade Sandwich?”


“Eeeeyup.” Gary said, with a giddy grin on his face.


“Becky Salt.” Andy said in a dream like tone.” Fuck!”


“Wonder what they're doing now.” Peter pondered.


“Why don't you ask them?” Oliver said.


The others looked at him. “What do you mean?” asked Andy.


Oliver leaned round Julian and pointed over to a table in the corner of the room. “Well, sitting at that table over there, are two blondes with a red head in the middle.”


Gary's eyes widened. “Shut the fuck up.”


They all looked over to the table to see the three women, two of them were definitely blonde and the one in the middle was red head. They had their backs to them so it was impossible to see what they looked like.


“I'd say that's Erica Leekes on the left,Tracy Benson on the right and – by the process of elimination – Becky Salt in the middle. That, my dear Julian, is the Marmalade Sandwich – all grown up.”


“Are you sure it's them?” Julian asked. “It could be different people.”


“Ollie, will you tell your boyfriend to stop spoiling our dreams?” Gary spat.


“I'm just saying.” Julian shrugged. Oliver laughed.


“Jules, they were every boy's, in Newton Haven Secondary School, wet dream.”


Julian raised an eyebrow to his boyfriend. “Every?”


Oliver froze. He looked up sheepishly at the white blonde. “I didn't know I was gay then. Honestly.”


Julian smirked and took a sip of his drink. Soon the conversation dimmed as Peter met his childhood bully, who hadn't even recognised him but Gary interrupted it by wanting to do shots. Andy got pissed off and scolded Gary. Later on, Gary left to go off to the toilets, leaving his phone.


“You ready to head back?” Oliver asked Julian.


“Yeah, just when you're ready.”


“Wait!”Andy said, a hint of anger in his voice. They all looked to Andy. He was holding Gary's phone that was ringing continuously. He turned it round to reveal the screen that read...'Mum'.


“I thought he said his mum was dead?”


“He did?” Andy growled. “The bastard lied.”




The night was turning into complete chaos. After Andy and the others went to confront Gary – or rather punch his lights out – they found Gary with one of the teens, they'd seen before lying on the ground, his head pulled clean off – well not so much as blue liquid had been coming out from the neck. It soon turned into a fight as the rest of the teenage gang came in. The others had come to the conclusion, as the night went on that the town had been taken over by alien robots. So, to make themselves go unnoticed by the robots, they had no choice but continue their Golden Mile. And also because Andy had jumped off the band wagon and now no one could drive them home. At the next pub, they ran into a man called the Reverend Green – a man who had sold them drugs – but now he'd reformed...and was a 'robot'. The Reverend had explained to them that they were slaves, by the term of robot, but he didn't get far as the conversation was interrupted by two men and the Reverend's supervisor. Luckily, Oliver had missed all of this. At the Two-Headed dog, Gary and the others had met up with Sam and they found that the twins she'd met were Blanks, too. Whilst this had been going on, they'd all been discussing the names of these 'robots. Julian and Oliver had liked to think of them as androids but they already decided on the name 'Blanks' for them. At the Mermaid, the boys and Sam had stumbled upon a school themed fancy dress party. Kylie Minogue's 'Step Back in Time' blasted from the speakers.


“This is a bit mad, innit?” Peter asked, loudly over the music.


“This is perfect.” Oliver cried out. “We can hide out in here. I'll get the drinks in. Come on, Julian.” and the blonde pulled the Australian over to the bar, bopping to the music as they went. Whilst they waited, Julian looked to his lover.


“You seem rather chipper, don't you?” he called over the noise.


“The night's still young, Jules. I'm glad you're here to enjoy it.”


Julian smiled. He leaned down and planted a kiss on Oliver's cheek. He hummed and moved his lips to his ear.


“I...can't wait to get you alone, tonight.” he purred. “I've been dying to all day.”


Oliver grinned. “Oh, god, yes. I might be tempted to get on the floor.”


“Ooooh, double meaning in that.” Julian said, wrapping his arms around Oliver, pulling him closer to his body, and helped himself by nipping at Oliver's soft skin.


But the moment was cut when the bar man gave them their drinks and they headed back to where Sam and the others were standing. Steven had disappeared.


“See anyone we know?” Oliver asked as they neared.


But the boys didn't answer them. They were staring into a certain part of the crowd. The people on the dance floor seemed to break apart and clear away to reveal...


“The Marmalade Sandwich!”


So, they were famous Marmalade Sandwich, Julian thought. But what Julian couldn't understand was that they looked young as though they were teenagers...still. How was that possible? Julian watched as Gary, Peter and Andy were lured in by the three girls to the centre of the dance floor.


“Does this remind you of a certain night?” Oliver shouted.


Julian smiled. “Does a bit. Still remember how to shake those hips?”


“You know I do, Jules!”


Before they could move, Sam came back, looking round into the crowd.


“I can't find Steven. Where are the others?”


Oliver pointed towards the dance floor. “They're blending in.” he shouted.


Sam looked over to the centre of the dance floor and gasped. “Oh, crumbs.”


They watched as the Marmalade Sandwich began to seduce Gary, Peter and Andy on the dance floor. Julian had a good mind to drag Oliver on the floor and have their way with each other, right then and there.


“Hey, Sam?” Oliver called over the music. “Who was that boy you liked in sixth form? Adrian?”


“Er, Adrian Keane. Why?”


“He's over there.”


Sam looked to where Oliver was pointing and they saw a tall handsome teenager about seventeen or eighteen. He walked over them, smiling at Sam, who looked aghast.


“All right, Sam. How's life?” he asked.


And with that Sam bolted.


“Sam?!” Julian called. “Sam, what's wrong?”


“Why did she run off for?” Oliver asked.


“I dunno. Do you think she got scared seeing Adrian?”


“Never bothered her before, though.” Oliver said, before pulling Julian to the dance floor, their drinks long forgotten. Julian smiled and watched Oliver's hips sway back and forward almost tantalising him. Oh, this definitely took him back to the night of when he met Oliver. As the estate agent began to move closer to him, Sam grabbed them, yelling about getting out. As they burst into the cold night air, Oliver turned to the others.


“Hold up Hold up. Where are you all going?”


“We're leaving!” Sam and Steven chorused.


“Really? What happened?” Oliver asked.


“Adrian Keane was in that bar.” Sam explained.


Steven mumbled something under his breath.


“I thought you liked him?”


“Adrian Keane is dead.”


“Oh, god!”


“He died in a motorbike accident, in Italy, eight years ago.”


“Did he?”


“So, what they took his dead body and made him live again?” Julian asked.


“Something like that.” Steven said. “They must have his DNA on file.”


“But they didn't know Adrian was dead.” Sam explained.


“Well, they knew enough to know that those three would go after the Marmalade Sandwich.”


“And who gave you that idea?” Oliver cut in.


“Basil did.”


“Mad Basil?” Oliver exclaimed. “He of the Bermuda Rhombus and Aqua Nazis? You're going put our lives in the hands of a crazy old man?”


“He's not crazy!” Steven spat.


“How does he know?” Julian asked. “I don't know what to think because I don't know him. But what makes you think that he's talking the truth? He could be a Blank!”


“Exactly!” Oliver said. “He could be trying to lure us of town where they can deal with us.”


“Yeah.” said Peter. “We could end up dead in a field.”


“Steven's right. We should go.” Sam said.


“No, we are going to the Beehive.” said Oliver. “Gary's plan is still the best we have.”


“He's right.” Julian said. “If we run, they'll know we've figured them out. We can get out of here still alive, when we've finished this.”


“Hold on.” Gary said, moving forward. He was glaring at Oliver as though he was unsure. “You know what? The 1990 model Oliver was out of communication by this point in the evening.”


Julian glared at Gary. Just what was he implying?


“What are you saying?” Oliver asked.


There was a small pause before Gary broke into a smile. “I like the new you.”


Oliver grinned. He took hold Julian's hand and dragged him along the way to the Beehive.


“Here we go.” Oliver cheered when they arrived. “Pub number nine.”


“Fuck yes!” cheered Peter.


“That's the spirit, Peter.” Gary said, sounding hyped up.


“Spirits, and we should get chasers.” Oliver said, standing to one side and allowing the others inside. “Been a while since I had a chaser.”


“I wouldn't say that.” Julian cooed, sending a sly look at Oliver who grinned knowingly. Andy was the last, still standing in the street. “You okay, Andy?”


“...yeah?” bespectacled man said, as though distracted.


“Come on, Andy!” Oliver said. “It can't start without you.”


Andy blinked. “What?”


“We can't start without you.”


Slowly, Andy moved inside with Oliver and Julian following behind. The Beehive was packed with customers, talking happily and drinking to their content.”


“Right,” Oliver chirped. “Whose round is it?”


“It's mine.” said voice. On his own was a slim man possibly in his forties or early fifties, wearing a light brown suit with brown hair with flecks of grey. A goatee and glasses.


“Mr. Shepherd?”


“Is it, Mr. Shepherd?” Sam whispered.


“Why don't you kids join me?” the man asked. “Looks like you could do with a drink.” The boys and Sam moved to the table where Mr. Shepherd was sitting with several glasses of bear. “So,” the man said. “Let's have a chat about your future.”


“Mr. Shepherd?” Gary asked.


“Please, call me Guy.”


“All right then. Guy.” there was a round of sniggers from Peter and Gary but Gary managed to compose himself. “Are you a robot?”


Mr. Shepherd grimaced a little at the word. “Does anyone know what 'robot' means?”


As though they were back in school, Steven, Gary and Peter's hands shot up.


“Gary?” Mr. Shepherd smiled.


“It means slave.”


“Very good Gary.”


“So,” Peter pondered. “Are you a robot, sir?”


“No, Peter. I'm not a robot.”


“But,” said Steven, putting his hand up. “You're on their side though?”


“This isn't about side, Steven, it's not shirts versus skins. It's about working together as one team.” the old teacher explained. “I know it seems weird and a bit scary but believe me, it's quite the opposite. They're here to help. To straighten us out and prepare us for the big leagues.”


As Mr. Shepherd talked, Julian noticed how tired the others except for himself, Oliver and Sam. Peter looked on the verge of sleep.


“So,” Julian piped up. “What exactly are we talking about?” Mr. Shepherd looked over at him, questioningly. “I mean you say 'big leagues' but you say it as though there's more to this than meets the eye.”


Mr. Shepherd smiled. “There is. We've just never know”


“Oh, god! Sorry, Julian.” Oliver apologised. “Mr Shepherd, this is my boyfriend, Julian Assange.”


“Pleasure to meet you.” Mr. Shepherd smiled. “You seem very in depth about this?”


“Well, I was a journalist before I moved on to I.T. Work. I can't help but get into a force of habit.”


“I see.”


“So, what you're saying is,” Oliver asked, looking to their old teacher. “They're not here to harm us?”


“Far from it, O-man.” Mr. Shepherd said, clapping a hand to Oliver's shoulder. “They're here to help. I'm not saying they're afraid to get tough. I've had to straighten you all out in my time. Except you, Julian, though I doubt Oliver will have done much.”


“Well...” Julian cooed, casting a look towards Oliver, who smirked.


“So, what do you say? Why don't we go somewhere and talk about this properly.”


“King's Head?” asked Gary.


“Well, it seems clear to me, guys.” Oliver said, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “What Mr. Shepherd is trying to say is--.”


And then it happened. It all happened so quickly. One minute Andy was in his seat, the next he'd sprung up from his chair, and threw one of the small stools, right over Oliver's head. Julian watched in horror as his boyfriend's head broke, leaving half of the head still attached. Blue liquid splattered all over them and dripped down what remained of Oliver's head.


“Andy,” Sam said. “What the fuck?”


“Yes, Andy.” Oliver said. His voice was now robotic and echoing. “What the fuck? He growled.


“Ollie?” Julian asked, looking at his lover in disbelief.


The android Oliver turned his head towards Julian. It smiled. “I'm sorry, Julian. I didn't mean for you to find out like this.”


“W.T.F?!” Gary yelled.


Sam kicked out, knocking Oliver to the floor. Julian felt himself being pulled out of his seat and away from the table. Soon, Blanks were up against them, Mr. Shepherd struck out at the fire alarm, making it go off. The sound caused every Blank in the room to light up by their eyes and mouths. A echoing voice played out a warning message. Andy then lost it by head butting the android of Mr. Shepherd and losing his head. In the fry of the fight, limbs were torn off, heads dismembered and blue blood splattered the walls, clothes and carpets. Julian struck out, his arm colliding with something as he moved forward towards where Oliver had been before. He couldn't see where the android Oliver was. He could see Andy charging forwards like a wild animal, with Gary at the rear. Julian felt someone touch his arm and he spun round to see Oliver, back on his feet.


“Julian!” the two looked over to see Sam, hurrying over, but stopped at the sight of Oliver. “Guys, this is no way for a family to behave.” said Oliver.


Before any of them could say a word, Steven charged between Oliver and Sam plucking off one of Oliver's arms. Julian tried to shove Steven off, but Oliver spun to Steven and punched him in the face, sending him flying. Sam went to run, but Oliver grabbed her scarf and pulled her back, almost choking her.


“I'm so disappointed in you.” snarled the android.


Julian moved behind Oliver and grabbed his remaining arm to let his grip on Sam loosen. “Ollie, stop it. This is not you--.”


“O-man!” yelled a voice. The three looked round and Gary's foot collided with Oliver's stomach, sending Julian and Oliver flying across the table. Julian rolled and was soon on all fours. He scrambled to his feet just as the door of the pub opened and another replica of Mr. Shepherd stepped in, calming the whole room. The android looked to Andy, who was splattered with blue ink.


“Okay, Andy. Break it up.” Andy threw down the bar stools as he glared at the android of the former teacher. “It doesn't have to be like this. It could all be so much simpler, so completely painless...if only you'd seen the light.”


“Yes. Oliver said from behind Julian and getting to his feet. He was holding the arm he'd lost and he fixed it to the joint. “You see it's not about conflict, it's about togetherness.”


“Yes. Now, let's trying this again. How about another round?”


“Nah,” Gary said, picking up a glass and finishing it off. “I think we're done here.”


Andy slammed his hand on the fire alarm and shouted for everyone to get the fuck out.




As they ran, Andy mentioned about a smoke house from years back and for them to head there for safety. Soon Andy, Julian, Steve and Peter managed to reach the smoke house without attracting too much attention.


“Thank fuck for that!” Peter panted.


“We'll lie low until they're gone and we'll find the Beast and get out of here--.” And explained but was cut off when Julian threw a punch in Andy's face.


“Julian, what the hell?” Steven yelled.


“That's for punching my boyfriend!” Julian snarled.


“Oliver?” asked Steven. “Julian, that Oliver was a fake. He was never your boyfriend.”


“No, you're wrong! Oliver – that Oliver – was my boyfriend. He may have been different to you, guys, but to me, he was everything. He may have been a Blank or a slave or a robot or whatever, but he was my lover, he loved me and I loved him.”


“He have been lying.” said Andy. “He might have been deciding when in order to change you.”


“Eight years, Andy!” Julian snapped. “Eight fucking years. Don't you think he would have done so by now.”


“Well, how do we know it's you?” Peter asked.


“Because if I was,” Julian said, now sounding exasperated. “I would have changed too. Look.” he pulled out an hook and dragged it along his arm, making it bleed. “See it's read, not blue, is that convincing enough. There's been a part of Oliver that didn't want to change me. That proves it.”


Silence met these words, with others looking ashamed. Then Gary burst in.




The last pub of the Golden Mile was called the World's End and it was like a machine factory for the Blanks. As Gary had pulled the lever for the beer, the pub bar shifted down like a lift into a tall circular room with many levels. Steven wasn't with them and Peter had been taken by the Blanks, when confronting his childhood bully against and almost destroying him. So, it was left to Julian, Andy and Gary at the last pub. Out of the darkness, stepped Blanks, all new and fresh for fight. Their mouths opened and let out a dimmed beam of light into the middle.


“Gary...” said a voice, distorted and echoing. “Gary King.”


They all looked up to see several columns of light. It glowed brightly and twitched with every word.


“Gary, King of the humans?” asked the light.


“Yeah, what do you want?”


“We are here to enable your full potential.” explained the voice. “As we have with countless worlds across the galaxy.”


“Oh, yeah? How did you manage that then?”


“We appropriate a small percentage of the population at two thousand or so penetration points across the planets. This is to ensure maximum coverage.” a figure stepped out to reveal Peter, speaking with the voice from the light, looking and well and unhurt.


“From there,” said the voice but it wasn't Peter who spoke now, it was someone else. The figure stepped out to reveal...


“Oliver.” breathed Julian.


“We create simulants to spread our ideologies through peaceful indoctrination.” Oliver pointed up to reveal a holographic Earth that showed pin points of where the Blanks had settled or were planning to.


Another figure stepped out from another doorway to reveal another replica of Mr. Shepherd. “Our objective is simple, to ready the population for participation of our galactic community.”


“This method requires a small sacrifice.” said Peter, with the voice from the light again.


“But,” Oliver carried on with the same voice. “the fewer replacements we make the more successful we consider our operation.”


Another figure stepped out. This time it was the Reverend Green. “Of course, we welcome those who volunteer themselves.”


“We can offer attractive incentives.” said a replica of Shane Dawson, whom the real Peter had attacked in the woods whilst getting away. “For those who willingly combine.”


“The chance to be young again,” said three voices that sounded from behind them. The Marmalade Sandwich. “And retain selected memories.”


“Is that something you'd like?” said Oliver, moving over to stand in front of them and beside Peter.


“Something you've always wanted?” asked Peter. Oliver and Peter looked up and light flashed. They looked up at to see five young boy who looked to be twenty or nineteen. They looked down at Julian, Andy and Gary with smiles. At one side of the balcony, there was movement. A boy with long white blonde hair stepped out and stood beside one of the boys. Julian stared at the younger version of himself. So, Oliver had considered changing him. He could see Andy, out of the corner of his eye, looking at him with a pitying look.


“Oh, my god!” gasped Gary. “I'm so cute!”


The penny dropped. Julian realised that the five teens were younger versions of Gary, Andy, Peter, Steven and Oliver. Julian watched as the younger version of himself slipped an arm around the young Oliver's shoulder. The young Oliver slipped an arm around the young Julian's waist and they smiled fondly at each other.


“The beauty of our system,” said the middle boy with dark clothes and hair. “is that we all win. There are no losers. Allow me to carry your legend forward. Let them you've the boy you were.” As the boy spoke, he was levered down to the area where Gary and the others stood. His voice changed gradually sounding older. This boy was Gary.


Gary smiled at the younger version of himself, placing his hands on either side of the robot's face. Then he grimaced. “Nah!” and he tore off the head and held it up high. “There's only one Gary King.” and he drop-kicked the head like a football.


“Then you've made your choice, Gary King of the humans.” the light said, disappointed.


“Yeah, I have.” said Gary. “Because frankly who the fuck are you to come down here and tell us what to do?”


“We are the Network.” replied the voice. “and we are here for your betterment. In the last twenty-three years, have you marvelled as information technology has surged forward?”


“No.” said Gary.


“Earth has grown smaller yet greater as connectivity has grown. This is our doing and it is just the beginning.” the light explained.


“Oh, fuck off you big lamp!” Gary snorted.


“I don't think now's the best time to insult them, Gary.” said Julian but Gary ignored him.


“You are children and you require guidance.” snapped the Network. “There is no room for imperfection.”


“Hey, Earth isn't perfect, all right? And humans aren't perfect. And guess what? I ain't perfect.”


“And therein lies the necessity for this intervention. Must the galaxy be subjected to an entire planet of people like you?”


“Whoa, whoa whoa, whoa!” Andy interrupted, coming forwards beside Gary. “Who put you in charge, huh? Who are you to criticize anyone? Now, you might think Gary's a bit of a cock, and he is a bit of a cock, but he's my cock!”


“Aw, thanks, man.”


“But he is detriment to himself, just as Earth is a detriment to the galaxy.”


“What did you say?” Andy growled.


“How is it that we aren't good enough?” Julian asked, coming forwards.


“You act out the same cycles of self-destruction again and again, at this point of your planets is least civilised in the entire galaxy.”


“What did he say?” Gary asked Andy and Julian.


“He's saying we're a bunch of fuck-ups.” Andy snarled.


“Hey!” Gary shouted, indignant. “It is our basic human right to be fuck-ups. This civilisation was founded on fuck-ups. And you know what? That makes me proud.”


“And me!” said Andy.


“What is it they say? To err is...”


“Human.” said Andy and Julian.


“To err is human.” finished Gary. “So, uh...”


“We do not believe you speak for all humanity.” the Network spoke. “You are but three men. Three drunk men.”


“Four drunk men!” called a voice.


Julian, Gary and Andy looked up and saw a figure abseiling down towards them. It was Steven!


“Stevie-baby!” Gary cheered.


“You came back!” called Andy.


Three men hugged and Julian was surprised to get one from Steven as well. But the Network didn't like that!


“Enough!” the voice called out. “Enough, humans!”


“Oh, you are in trouble now. It's only the Four Musketeers.” said Gary.


“You revolting against the wisdom of countless solar systems.” the Network spat.


“Yeah, we are revolting!” laughed Gary.


“But you just said you're here to conquer. Can I just many people did you have to replace in Newton Haven?” asked Andy.


“That is irrelevant.” the Network said flatly.


Oh, so there had been something wrong in the 'merging'. A glitch?


“Is it?” Andy spoke up. “Hands up. Who here is human?” he asked the Blanks above them. Basil and the two men they'd seen in the Trusty Servant were the only ones.


“So, that's three.” yelled Steven.


“You had to replace the entire town?!” Andy asked, incredulously.


“Not the entire town.” corrected the Network.


“Yeah, everybody apart from Old Nut Bowl and the Shifty twins.” said Gary.


“And what happened to the people you replaced?” asked Julian. “Like Oliver and Peter?”


“Redundant vessels and recycled, mulched and converted into fertilizer whereupon they are returned to the Earth to promote verdancy and growth.” explained the Network. “It is high efficient means of organic renewal.”


“Mulched?” Gary howled.


Julian felt sick. The Network had committed mass murder just for the sake of perfection and progress.


“What about the other places? The penetration points.” asked Andy. “Are they successful as Newton Haven? Because I'm guess we're not the only glitch in your system.”


“It is true, the Network has been experiencing some difficulties.”


“Oh, I think you bit off more than you can chew with Earth, mate.” Gary chuckled.


“Yeah, 'cause we are more belligerent, more stubborn,” growled Andy. “And more idiotic than you can possibly imagine and I am not just talking about Gary.”


“Yeah, there's more than one Gary King.”


But you just there was--.”


“I fucking know what I fucking said!”


“But it's our duty to challenge you.” The Network said.


“Just leave us to our own devices, you intergalactic arseholes.” spat Gary.


“You misunderstand!” pleaded the Network.


“Shut up!”


“We are trying--.”


“Nobody's listening!”


“If you'd only--.”


“Face it, we are the human race and we don't like being told what to do!”


There was a long pause before the voice from the Network spoke again. “Just what is it you want to do?”


“We wanna be free.” said “We want to be free to do what we wanna do. We want to get loaded and have a good time. That's what we're going to do.”


Julian couldn't help but wonder why Gary was film quoting at the a time like but this was Gary King.


“It's pointless arguing with you.” the Network said, sounding almost defeated. “You will be left to your own devices.”


Gary blinked. The Network were giving up already? “Really?”


“Yeah...fuck it!” and the light vanished, almost darkening the room. Then all together, the Blanks' heads lowered. They were switching off. As Gary, Andy and Steven celebrated, Julian hurried forwards towards Oliver.


“Oliver.” he whispered. “Ollie, Ollie, look at me. Ollie, wake up.” he wrapped his arms around the android, in a comforting way. “Ollie, come on, wake up. Please. If you still love me, open your eyes. Reboot back up. Please.”


There was a metallic groaning that sounded from above. The whole room was falling apart. A railing bent and snapped. It fell from a foot to the floor.


“We've got to get out of here.” Steven said. “Julian, come on, we need to go.”


“I'm not leaving, Ollie, I can't leave him!”


“He's a Blank, Jules.” Gary yelled over the sounds of falling debris and short-circuiting machinery.


“I don't care!”


“Julian, for fuck's sake! We need to go!” Andy yelled. “Just leave him.”


Julian didn't know what to do. If he stayed, he'd be killed by the destruction of the town. If he left, he'd be leaving without his lover. Oliver would be all alone. Julian sighed. He had to go. He leaned in towards Oliver's ear and whispered.


“I'll come back for you. I promise.” he pressed a kiss to the android's cheek and joined the others at the ladder, leading out. As the others climbed, Julian risked a look and saw a 'L' shaped pipe come crashing down, landing on top of Oliver's head and smashing the top half again like Andy had done. Julian bit back a sob but didn't stop the tears running down his cheeks. Julian climbed, leaving the chaos behind him...and leaving his love.




Sometime after the destruction of Newton Haven, the world was plunged into darkness and re-entered the Dark Ages. Technology had been wiped out as of the Network's part in it. Julian had returned after hearing that Newton Haven was safe to come back. As he stepped over the town line, he looked round to see the civilians of the town clearing out and refurbishing their homes. Some people were reuniting with lost loved ones. Some of them looked to be Blanks. Graffiti was etched onto the walls of houses, public walls and even one of churches. Some messages were scrawled on, such as 'Blanks not Welcome' or 'Blanks Go Home'. But Julian didn't focus his attention on them, he was too busy looking for...


“Oliver!” he called. “Ollie?! Ollie, where are you? Ollie?”


As he walked through the streets – what was left of them – he tried to look out among the rubble to see if he could spot the Blank anywhere. As he turned the corner onto a street that led to the pub, the Old Familiar, he spotted a familiar figure. Half of his head missing and and replaced with part of a football with eyes drawn on.


“Julian!” the robot called, stumbling around as he was having difficulty seeing where he was going.


“Ollie!” and he ran forwards towards the stumbling android. The Blank Oliver looked round in the direction of Julian's voice and was soon swept up in a loving embrace by Julian. He was settled on his feet and felt around for Julian's face.


“Julian, you came back.” Oliver breathed.


“I told you I would.” Julian said with a smile. “Oh, Oliver. I've missed you.”


“I've missed you, too. Julian, I...I...I'm sorry that I...didn't tell you. I couldn't...go through with changing you.”


“Shut up about it, Oliver. I don't care. I love you and I don't care who you are, human, Blank, alien or otherwise. There has been a part of you that made you stop yourself from 'converting' me into a Blank.”


“But I still lied to you.”


“Don't say anything anymore on the matter. We're safe now and I'll fix you in the best way possible so that you'll be able to see again. I love you, Oliver Chamberlain.”


A smile came up on Oliver's lips. “And I love you, Julian Assange.”


Chapter Text

For Your Entertainment – Adam Lambert:


It's all right

you'll be fine

baby, I'm in control

take the pain

take the pleasure

I'm the master of both

close your eyes

not your mind

let me in to your soul

I'm gonna work it 'til you're totally blown




Bilbo wasn't even sure what he'd done. He'd been minding his own business at the market in Laketown when he'd been taken away by the guards led by the captain, Thorin Oakenshield. He'd been roughly escorted to the city of Mirkwood and thrown in a cell. Bilbo thought that the elf king, Thranduil, must be throwing his weight around and allowing the dwarf captain to imprison whom he wanted.


Now, Bilbo was sitting in a cold dimly lit prison room, wondering why he was there. He could hear the other prisoners yell and scream for their freedom. He wondered how long it would be until they lost their will. He also thought he could a low growling from the cell next to him, but he ignored it. The Hobbit wasn't even sure how long he'd been locked away for, when he noticed something in the cell. There was a section of the wall that opened up to the cell next to him. Bilbo crawled over to it and peeped inside. He could see something large, red and scaly sitting in cell, curled up.


“Hello?” he said, softly.


He waited a few moments before seeing the red move. A tail flicked back and forth, revealing spikes, all lined up on the tail, like a rose stem. Wings flexed on the air and flapped once...twice, creating a strong gust of wind. Then they revealed a body. Bilbo stared at the dragon before him. He was about to height of a horse with golden yellow eyes that stared haughtily at him. The dragon's wings were attacked to his arms and ended with sharp talons. The dragon turned and looked at the Hobbit.


“Can I help you?” the dragon asked. His voice was deep, yet soothing and seductive and full of authority. Bilbo couldn't help but he enthralled by it's voice.


“...I...I don't know. I don't think there is much good in helping a fellow prisoner in cage, is there?”


A low rumbling chuckle left the dragon's throat. “I doubt it.” it said. “What are you? And who are you? You don't smell like a dwarf or an elf.”


“No, you're right there. I'm a Hobbit. My name is Bilbo.”


“A Hobbit?” asked the dragon. “What is a Hobbit doing so far from home?”


“Actually, Laketown is my home. I moved there to be rid of my family.”


“I see.” the dragon purred, shifting a little in it's cell. “And tell me, Bilbo, what did a Hobbit, like you, do to get in here?”


“I'm not so sure. It all happened in a blur. I think they accused me of stealing.”


The dragon growled. “Yes. I've seen prisoners come and go, being accused of less or more. That Oakenshield is fuelled by power and that king, they so call, is not helping. Rumours however are going around say that they are more than what they appear.”


“Oh, that rumours been going about for a long while. They do nothing but give each other long and pre-cautious stares. Everyone must know by now.”


“It's very likely. But that matters now, talking of those two makes my scales crawl. Tell me something about yourself, Bilbo.”


Bilbo smiled. “Well, first, I want to know the name of my fellow prisoner.”


A smile came up on the golden eyed beast's lips. “My name is Smaug.”




A few days passed with the Hobbit and the dragon – fire drake, Bilbo soon learned – getting along so well. When the other prisoners weren't looking and the elven or dwarf guards weren't around, Bilbo had constructed a little passage so that he could visit Smaug and talk to him properly. One visit went long into the night and Smaug curled up with Bilbo as the Hobbit slept peacefully and radiated his heat on the shivering Hobbit before placing him back softly in his own cell. A week soon passed before Bilbo found himself coming face to face, one morning, with Thorin Oakenshield. Bilbo stared at the captain of the guards down, hoping that he would go away.


“The king has a proposition for you.” the dwarf said.


“Oh, does he? Well, tell him that I am not interested.”


“Oh, but I think this will interest you, greatly.” the captain said. “The king is offering to let you go and be force of all charges--.”


“What charges?” Bilbo asked, incredulously. “I didn't do anything.”


Thorin ignored him. “If you do a small favour.”


Bilbo narrowed his eyes. “What favour?”


Thorin smirked. “I knew it would peak your interest. The king wishes you to kill a beast that has been given trouble on the land. We managed to subdue the creature but...anyway, the king says that if you do, then your charges of theft will be dropped and you'll be known as a hero.”


“Or a killer to the beast's king.” Bilbo spat.


“Perhaps. So, what do you say?”


Bilbo looked to the captain of the guards and glanced quickly to the well that hid Smaug from view. The Hobbit didn't want to leave; otherwise Smaug would be all alone but Bilbo wanted out! But it didn't seem to be the fairest way. Bilbo looked up at the captain.


“Okay, I'll see do it. As long.” he said. “You let that prisoner go.” and he pointed over to the wall that hid Smaug.


Thorin looked over to the cell and sneered. “Very well. I'll see that the king hears your very wish. Now, come. We must get you ready for the fight.”


And he opened the door and allowed Bilbo out. They walked out of the dungeon with Bilbo saying a silent prayer that Smaug would see him very soon. Thorin took him up into the castle of King Thranduil and there Bilbo was tidied up, and then given weapons to use in the ring that he would fight this beast in. Three hours later, Bilbo was then led by some of the dwarf guards that led him out of the castle and towards the ring. It was circular with a wooden wall that surrounded the playing field but it didn't completely disguise what was inside. He knew that there would be an audience...


And that's what he saw the moment he entered the ring. Thousands of spectators filled the stands with elves, dwarves and men. He could also see the king himself sitting in the stands beside the captain. Bilbo looked to the other side of the ring. At least half a dozen elves and dwarves were walking out onto the field, struggling with the chains they pulled. Whatever they were bringing the ring was putting up a fight. Suddenly, there was a animal-istic roar and a burst of fire. Then out of the darkness came a dragon with golden eyes and ruby red scales. Smaug.


No. he couldn't—wouldn't! He couldn't kill Smaug! Smaug roared in anger and batted away two elves, sending them flying into the crowd. Smaug was soon pulled into the middle, opposite Bilbo. The dragon stopped struggling when he caught sight of the Hobbit.


“Bilbo...” the dragon breathed.


“Hi...” the Hobbit said, weakly.


The chains were pulled away and the dwarves and elves hurried off. The crowd roared for the fight but the two beings stayed where they were.


“What are you...?” Smaug was about to ask but Bilbo interrupted him.


“Doing here? They put me in here”


“Kill the beast!” someone shouted in the stands, followed by jeers.


Bilbo moved towards the dragon. He placed a hand on his muzzle. “I don't want to hurt you.”


“I know, my little one. I cannot bare the thought of searing you with my flames.”


Bilbo pulled the dragon's head closer to his own, the ears ringing with yells and jeering. Bilbo lifted his head, his eyes scanning the stands, at the spot where King Thranduil sat. He looked up at the dragon with a smile.


“If they want a show,” the Hobbit purred. “We'll give them one.”


Smaug gave him a look as though confused by his words. So, Bilbo leaned in and placed a loving kiss to the dragon's muzzle. Smaug purred making Bilbo go for a second, making the purring grow a little louder. Smaug leaned in and pressed his nose into Bilbo's neck. Bilbo sighed as he felt the dragon's nostrils twitch against his soft skin and drink in his scent. The Hobbit reached up and let his fingers trail along Smaug's scales and along the stretch of his wings. A low rumble sounded in the dragon's throat.


“You like that, Smaug?” Bilbo whispered.


The dragon growled and ran his tongue along the Hobbit's skin making him whimper. “Take off your clothes. Show me that lovely body of yours, my little Hobbit.”


Slowly, Bilbo unbuttoned his jacket, then his waistcoat, shirt and trousers, leaving himself exposed to the audience and Smaug. But the Hobbit knew that the sight was only for the dragon before him. Smaug gazed at Bilbo as though he was a jewel to behold. A rare beauty. The dragon leaned in and trailed his tongue along Bilbo's nipples. The Hobbit gasped in pleasure, his mind becoming dizzy.


“S-S-Smaug.” he moaned. “Let me...”


Smaug knew what his little love was saying. He lay on his side and rolled over onto his back, almost like a dog expecting a tummy rub. But Bilbo wasn't going to give a tummy rub. The naked Hobbit knelt down beside his dragon and settled between his hind legs. Smaug was massive, bigger than Bilbo and the Hobbit wasn't sure if he'd be able fit the dragon in his mouth or inside himself. The Hobbit plucked up his courage and took the dragon into his mouth. Smaug let out a guttural man that probably filled the entire field. Bilbo smiled and continued to suckle pleasantly on Smaug's cock head. His tongue slithered out and played with the slit. He could taste the pre-cum oozing from the head. He pulled away, making Smaug whimper from the loss of Bilbo's mouth, and Bilbo settled himself so that he was straddling the dragon's tail and knelt in front of his rump. He took hold of Smaug's erection and began to stroke it gently, making him ooze the pre-cum onto his fingers. He then reached down and pushed one of his slicked fingers into the puckered hole that awaited him. Smaug whimpered and writhed against Bilbo. His scaly body rubbing against Bilbo's own.


“Keep still or this will hurt, my love.” warned Bilbo.


“I am sorry, little one, but this pleasure that you are giving invigorating!”


Bilbo smiled and continued to work another finger inside the dragon.


“Perhaps,” Smaug purred. “That I should give you the same in return.”


Bilbo raised an eyebrow as though confused by the dragon's words. Then he felt movement behind him. He looked round and saw Smaug's long spiked tail move. It slid down his back, moved between his legs and wrapped around his cock. The tail squeaked him slightly making Bilbo groan. Bilbo slipped another finger into Smaug and the tip of the fire drake's tail moved to the slit and circled it. Bilbo let out a long moan as he felt the tail playing his his cock head.


“By the gods!” he gasped. He struggled to keep his own rhythm on Smaug as he felt the tail squeeze him a little and began to move across the foreskin, stroking him in a steady pace. Bilbo shook his head and continued to move his own fingers in and out of Smaug.


“Bilbo...” Smaug purred. “I am ready for you. Take me as your mate.”


Bilbo nodded shakily. He withdrew his fingers and positioned himself at Smaug's prepared hole.


“You sure you want this, Smaug?” the Hobbit breathed.


“Yes, my dear Bilbo. Please.”


The Hobbit nodded and slowly pushed himself inside. With this, Smaug purred as he felt Bilbo slid soothingly and pleasurably against his walls. Bilbo could feel shivers run up and down his spine and felt Smaug's walls open and close against him. He smiled down at the dragon beneath him, who was smoking from the nostrils.


“Just tell me when you're ready.” he gasped. He felt Smaug's tail move from his waist to his own hole that awaited.


“I've been ready all along.” the fire drake rumbled.


“ we go.” Bilbo said and he pulled himself out and thrust back in. As Smaug cried out, Bilbo's hips snapped or rolled against the dragon's own as he pumped himself in the dragon. Smaug's moans and groans gave Bilbo the encouragement to keep going and pick up the pace. Suddenly, he felt Smaug's tail press itself against the his hole and slowly moved inside. The Hobbit's pace stuttered but soon picked up again as Smaug's tail settled in and moved to match Bilbo's pace. As Bilbo moved in deeper, Smaug cried out as Bilbo's cock brushed against Smaug's prostate.


“Did I find my dragon's weakness?” Bilbo teased.


Smaug growled playfully. “Let you be the only one who knows.”


Bilbo smiled and continued to brush against the lump of muscle that was enough to drive the fire drake wild. Sure enough, Smaug had had enough and gave in to the pleasure and came over himself and Bilbo. The Hobbit gasped as he felt his new lover close around him and soon he came deep inside of Smaug, spilling his essence. Achingly, Bilbo pulled himself out and collapsed on top of his dragon, who was purring. Smaug unfurled his wings and wrapped them around Bilbo, keeping him warm.


“Mmm, my little Hobbit. My little and precious treasure.”


Bilbo felt his cheeks go warm at the compliment. “Thank you. That was amazing.” he moved his head to snuggle more into the dragon when he noticed the crowd. Some were staring shock, some had fainted. Few women were blushing furiously or stifling nosebleeds. The men were looking murderous. “Smaug.” he whispered.


King Thranduil got to his feet, Thorin following. He raised a pale finger to the two, his eyes flaring dangerously. “Kill them.” he roared.


Smaug reared up and roared. Bilbo was knocked back and watched as Smaug covered Bilbo with his boy. As Bilbo reached for his clothes and dressed, Smaug used his wings to deflect the spears and arrows. Suddenly, Smaug's underbelly began to glow and then a burst of fire escaped his lungs and spread along the stands, sending dwarves and elves running for cover. Bilbo crawled out from beneath Smaug.


“Climb on to my back.” Smaug shouted from over the noise. Bilbo didn't need to be told twice. He climbed up, keeping low as more arrows flew and fire blazed hotly. “Hold on, little one.”


And with a few beats of his wings, Smaug and Bilbo took off into the air, leaving behind those in the stands. Smaug veered his left and took off into the sunset, with his love riding on his back. Together and free.


Chapter Text

L'Enfer et Moi – Amandine Bourgeois:


Tu m'as fait pleurer à vif

mon cou porte encore

ta griffe

j'ai mais èchanger de peau

'no limits' ce'st un classique!




The king was nearing his last days and was seen by his court that he was growing old tiring. But slowly, as though Fate was making him suffer. The king had by no mean been a tyrant, he'd been good to his people and treated them kindly. But there was a problem. The king had no heir, no other family, no brothers as they'd died in war and had no nephews or sisters or nieces to inherit his throne. So, he took it upon himself to bring his closest friends to his house and have them help him decide who would have the throne.


Firstly, there was Edward who was married to a beautiful woman named Elizabeth. He was the oldest of three brothers and was on the way of becoming a father. Then there was George who was the second oldest, he wasn't married yet but had his eye on someone in particular. Then there was Henry that lived with his wife, Margaret, and only son but there were rumours of Margaret sleeping with a Lord of Somerset. Then there was Francis who was a good friend of Edward, George and their younger brother, Richard but Francis was a mean and spiteful fellow when he was not around his friends. Next was the youngest brother, Richard. 'Poor, old deformed Richard', 'crippled', 'monstrous', 'hedgehog like', and 'villainous' Richard – as some people called him. The worst he'd got was 'impotent Dick'; Richard had nearly cut the boy's tongue out for that remark but resisted the urge to do so. Then there was the other Richard who lived in York. He had once been a lieutenant general who had given his time to serve his king, until a year ago. He looked to be in his late fifties or early sixties but he wasn't. He was a young forty. He was always seen wearing immaculate clothing but most of his general uniform. He had short grey hair that was smoothed back and a beard that looked to have grown for a couple of weeks or more. Where as the other Richard had long dark brown hair that looked unkempt, icy blue-green eyes, cupid bow lips and impossible high cheek bones. He was quite handsome to look on his face but the hunchback appearance made some people wary of him. But the only thing about these two Richards was that they were very ambitious and loyal.


This is their story.




The king called upon his council and his 'supposed' heirs meet in the throne room of his house. It was the meeting of who would decide who would then be in line for the throne. The three brothers, Richard, Edward and George were the first to arrive with Richard limping behind them. Then Francis came with fake smiles that the brothers did not see through and lastly came Lieutenant General Richard. He bowed to his king before taking a seat opposite Richard. The two stared at one another with hard eyes before turning away to look at their king, as he addressed the men before him.


“Gentlemen, welcome.” the king said. “Good morrow to you, my lords. Trust that you are all well.”


There was a few murmurs of 'yes' and nods at this.


“Good, now we may begin. I've called you all here because...I am in need of your assistance.”


The room had gone deafeningly silent at this. The men before the king had become transfixed almost gripping on to every word that the king would utter.


“As you all know,” the king said, beginning to walk around the table, using the chairs for support. “I have no heir as me and my wife were unable to bear children and sadly I sadly lost her to a deadly fever but had no wish to find another wife. You all respected that wish. And now I have another wish that I hoped you all can respect. in need of an heir to my throne, which will no longer be mine, in due course. I have called upon you, Francis, Richard and the three brothers of the House of York here today because I wish for one of you to be my heir to the throne.”


Eyes widened at this news. Either with mirth or in total surprise, it was unsure to tell.


“And who did you have in mind out of us, my lord?” asked Edward.


“Well, that's where you all come in.”said the king. “You see, you all have been at my side, you have been loyal and trustworthy to me. So, you all shall help me decide. Then I'll be able to choose.” he reached his seat at the top of the table and sat slowly back down.


“And how do we do that?” Lieutenant General Richard asked. “Do we set about some labours like of those of the valiant Hercules or do we compete like those who competed in the Olympian Games...or do we decide to kill each other off?”


A few sniggers went round the table but the other Richard rolled his eyes.


“Yay, yay. Ye of the 'sharpest tongue'.” he scoffed. “Only you, dearest lieutenant, would think of blood and battle and of your beloved war games at a sombre time such as this.”


“I of war games?” the general asked. “My dear crippled friend, thou knows that I joke only to bring light on such a dark matter such as this. This is something I would not consider to be of a game. Other people will think that it is, I have heard stories of kingdoms that fight for nothing but power. I, my lord, do nothing but fight for peace. Especially for our lord's house.”


The other men at the table except the king shifted nervously. Everyone in the court knew that both Richards hated one another. Others though they'd seen themselves as a kind of threat to the other. Rumours had gone around, whispers even had circled round saying that the former general hated the Lord of Gloucester because of his deformity. But that wasn't true. The reasons of why they disliked each others was never brought up or admitted. So, rumours had started, fuelling the fire into an inferno. Everyone was terrified that something would get out of hand between the two and never interfered.


“Yay,” said the brown haired male. “And that is what you say but you do nothing but stir up trouble when it suits you best, lieutenant general. But let me say to you, good sir, that if I am given the throne, I'll let you be on all fours like a baited dog by my side and that is how you will stay.”


Richard laughed. “Tell me, Dick, has thou impotence interfered with your mind. Because it is very unlikely that you are even fit to rule a kingdom. I'm surprised that the king even allows you in here.”


“Hush now, lap dog.” the lord of Gloucester snarled. “You are all bark and no bite. But thou bark may lose a few teeth.”


“And you, of brain cells, young lord.”


Then suddenly, Richard roared, flying across the table and struck the general, cutting his lip. Richard's brother reached for him and pulled him, praying to him to calm down. Francis turned to the bruised Richard, fire in his eyes.


“Good pilgrim, I assure that you, you of all people, would be respectful of those of life wounds. He is not to blame for how he appears. He only appears and a gentle soul with twisted words.”


“And that he does to me?” Richard asked, blood trickling slowly from his lip. “Misjudging my words of those I never speak of. He is mad! He then looked to the king. “Pardon of my words and actions, my lord, but it seems that I am not wanted. Not likely the ally I thought I was. Good day to you all.”


He bowed to the others and without another look to Richard, Richard left the room.




The king called him meeting off for another day and allowed them to stay in the spare chambers of the castle. Richard limped his way to his chambers, hoping for a good rest. He had not meant to hit Richard, it had been a sudden impulse that, for some reason, he couldn't ignore. Richard hated it when people brought up his deformed state. Other Richard was lucky but everyone did not know how it felt. If someone else had had this and not him, then they would know what is was like. He pushed open the door and found Richard sitting in his chair, drinking wine from a goblet. He limped inside and closed the door, making the bearded fellow look up at him.


Richard smiled. “Good day, my lord.”


“Good day.” Richard growled.


“I trust the room is to your liking. My chambers are more...what is that word? Oh, yes, more immaculate.”


“Hold that tongue of yours, general. It does not suit you.”


Richard growled as his dark friend limped over to him and stood in front of him. He put down his goblet and stared up at the hunchback figure.


“No one tail you?” he asked.


“Nay. I made sure.”


Richard smiled. “Good.” He stood up and pressed his lips against Richard's. A low moan escaped his partners' lips and he pulled him closed as best he could. They drew back and grinned. “Oh, how I've missed you.”


“It's been too long.” Richard said, pulling the former lieutenant general near.


“It has.”


Richard's face turned sombre as though regretting something. “I'm sorry for striking you. I don't know what came over me.”


“Apology accepted. Although I am at full responsibility. I deserved it. I should not have spoken such ill words to you about...”


Richard planted a small kiss on the grey haired man's lips. “I forgive you, my lord. My good sweet lord.”


But Richard smiled again, before Richard spoke again. “Show me again. Show me your beauty.”


Richard moved over to the bed as Richard followed. The younger of the two pulled at the cords of his cloak making it slip off and fall to the floor. He then pulled away his shirts before revealing the unpatterned form of Richard's back. The skin looked to be stretched and marred, the lump on the left side of Richard's back, was the cause for the skin to be stretched. His left arms' skin looked to be burned and horribly scarred. Richard slowly reached out and moved his hand softly over Richard's back, feeling the texture of his lover's skin under his fingers. Why would have Richard's mother allowed him – her own son – to be like this? What had she done to herself to make sure her baby was damaged? Why had she not been punished?


“ have gone quiet, my lord?” the younger said, breaking Richard's thoughts.


Richard sighed. His hands moved to where Richard's arms sat, crooked and nestled by his side. “I crave your pardon but...I don't understand why your mother--.”


“Do not mention her.” Richard growled as he moved to his bed. “I try not to think of her. That witch.”


Richard moved close to his lover and held him close. “Well, do not worry anymore, my lover. It makes you for who you are. It's part of you.”


A tear escaped from Richard's eye and a rattling sigh.


“Richard? How now?”




“Richard, how now? What ails you, my love?”


“Why...why is that – aside from my own brothers – that you have shown me compassion, love, tenderness? Why have you been the only one?”


“Because they don't understand. You've told me about your misfortune, about your ails. You do not deserve this.”


Richard moved his hands to tighten on Richard's arms around his waist. “I...I want you, Richard.”


“Hmm, it has been a long time since I had the pleasure of your flesh. Come.”


And he led Richard to his bed and began to undress.




The next morning, the king called upon his council again after finding out a way for him to choose who he wanted as his heir. Luckily, Richard had said his farewells to Richard before hurrying away to his chambers in case he was caught. They all now sat in the throne room, waiting for the king to arrive. Both Richards sat opposite one another, trying to not make much eye contact. Richard's brother had pulled Richard aside and warned him not to make confrontation to or at the former lieutenant general anymore. But Richard had no plans to make anymore fights between him and Richard. After him and Richard had finished having sex, he lay awake beside his lover thinking over an idea, he'd thought up over night and he wanted to tell Richard in the strictest confidence. The doors opened and the king walked inside. Everyone got their feet and greeted their king with a bow.


“Good morrow, gentle lords.” the king said as he was helped to his seat by two servants. The king looked as though he'd seen better days. “I trust we are well.”


“As well as every, my lord.” Francis smiled.


“Good.” As the king was seated, he looked to both Richards. “Cousins, dear, I trust that you have forgotten thine squabble.”


“Yes, my lord.” said both Richards.




“In fact.” said the former lieutenant, looking over to his secret love. “I must say I humbly apologise for my words, dear sir.”


“And I am sorry, my lord, for my words and actions and misjudging yours.”


“I accept them.” Richard said with a smile.


Richard smiled back with a courteous nod.


“Well,” smiled the king. “I'm glad our dear cousins have ceased their quarrel. Well done.”


Richard smiled at the king's words but he couldn't help but notice Francis' cold scowl as he took a sip from his goblet.


“Now, my council, to work!”




The meeting had gone well without much interfering from both Richards. Now, Richard stood with his brothers as they spoke with a duke from Somerset, he sent secretive looks over to Richard who stood with Hastings and Richmond, hoping to catch his eye and a smile. Richard saw movement and noticed Francis move away without so much as a goodbye. Richard shook his head and turned back to the conversation with Somerset. Soon, the three brothers bid farewell but Richard stopped Richard.


“My lord, may I speak with you a while?”


Richard nodded and turned to his brothers. “I'll join you shortly. Go.” he then watched his brothers leave before turning to Richard and joined him in a walk.


“I could not help but notice that you were trying to get my attention.”


Richard suddenly felt his cheeks go warm. “Oh, so you took notice then, my lord?”




Richard chuckled. “What an ass, am I? Well, I was hoping that I would bring you to one side as I thought of a brilliant but mad idea after we'd found our own idea of heaven, last night.”


“Such an intimate act made you think of a brilliant but insane idea? My dear Richard, what an remarkable mind you have!”


“I'll consider your words to be of jest, my good man, but do no think of me as such until I speak of it.”


“Very well. How does your words wish to intrigue me?”


They'd reached the courtyard by now and Richard glanced around to see if anyone was listening. When he was satisfied, he looked to the former general.


“The idea is question, my good lord, is that of we were in office for.”


“Do you mean the king's throne?”


“Aye, that I do. In time the king will think of a suitable candidate to be his heir. I would love for it to be one of my brothers or dear Henry but I doubt such thought of him as of his wife. Francis, I don't know if I can longer trust him. I've noticed a difference in him that I've never noticed until now. Then there is you and I.”


“Me and you, my lord?”


“Aye...I...when this is done and if the king choose one of us, I want to rule either at your side or with you. I would now wish for nothing more, my love.”


The elder stared at the younger for a few moments before smiling at his supposed rival.


“Oh, but for the wide world, my dear.” he whispered, moving a little closer to the hunched man in front of him. “I would love nothing more than to have you at my side.”


“As long as you have love in your heart for I, then I'll surely have enough love for thee too.”


Richard smiled and – without even looking around for nosy spectators – he leaned in and planted a kiss on his lips.


But what the two did no realised was that they were being watched by the deceitful eyes of Francis. He watched the two part and then walk away together. Francis turned to the shadows and went in search of his king. With the telling of Richmond, Francis found the king speaking with a chancellor.


“My king.” he said, bowing. “I pardon the interruption but I must speak with you about Richard of Gloucester.”




Richard tottered on his way out of the throne room as he was about to visit Richard. After proclaiming to his love that he would gladly rule with him, he was feeling in a good mood. Probably the best mood he had felt in a while. As he turned a corner, he saw Richmond and Hastings with a small group of guards...and angry looks about them.


“How now, gents?” he called. They surrounded Richard, grasping him by the arms. “I doth protest! Richmond, what is the meaning of this arrest?”


“Treason, my lord. That you have committed.”


“I? This cannot be. I have been faithful to my friends, my masters. The king especially. What treasonous act have I committed against my king, my country.”


“An act of murder most foul.” Hastings explained. “The King does wish to see you at this time. You will be taken to the tower and await trial.”


“No, my lords.” they were dragging him back, before could even admit his innocence “Please I beg of you. Let me see the king. Please. Pleeeeeease!”


As they dragged him out into the courtyard, he saw Richard leave a side room and stare at him in horror.


“Richard! Please, tell the king I mean of no harm. I am innocent. Please save me...please. My love!”


The guards threw him into a carriage that was to take him to his jail.


“Stop now!” Richard yelled as he hurried down the steps to his lover and seized the reins of the horses. He turned on Richmond and Hastings. “What is this will that you treat him in such a manner?” he barked.


“He has committed crimes against the crown.” Richmond said.


“On what grounds?”


“Treason to the king. He seems to be power hungry.”


“Thou liest! Richard snarled. “Who came to you with these lies?”


“Francis of Buckingham.”


“Francis of Buckingham? He who is my friends and of my brothers? Why?”


“Are you sure, my lords, it is not he who is driven by power?” the older man asked.


“He seemed to speak well of his truths.” Hastings said. “What reason would he have of telling false pretences?”


“What indeed.” Richard said. “You talk that this man who has been the loyalist of men to his king and folk for many years has such sinful thoughts. I know he is a good man. I have lain with him for many a night. We both had intimate moments together away from prying eyes. You may think 'why' but we say that it was no one's business for them to know of our moments that we wonderfully shared. But as this has happened,” he then turned to his lover. “My love, I must tell of our tale. Of what we have done so that your name will no longer be besmirched.” he then looked to their audience. “So, now that you hear of this, you men, that Richard here has not spoke or thought of treason against his king.”


“He may not of when you were together.” said Richmond. “But he may have conspired against the king and used you as a pawn.”


“Lies!” Richmond called, kicking the carriage he was in. “Lies! All lies. I never wanted the king dead. Yield of such thoughts, my lords. My dear Richard speaks of truth, please believe us!”


Richmond didn't say anything. He strode forward, pulling Hastings with him. He then spoke in soft words. “Your words have struck a chord with me. But Francis himself or his men will or maybe hearing our words, so we must keep this between us.”


“How now?”


“Listen to me. We must make Francis believe that Richard has gone to the tower to await trial. In doing so, we hide away thee somewhere, whilst you, Richard will round up his brothers and capture Francis somehow and make him admit his lies. We must be swift in doing so, otherwise we'll be hanged for the wrong reasons. Dispatch yourself, Richard and hurry to find George and Edward. We'll quickly find you safe passage until thy name is cleared. Hurry, flee now.”


Richard nodded, letting go of the reins and looked to his love. “Be safe, my love. I will hurry back and strike down the hateful man who tells of false hopes.”


“I love thee.” Richard said, reaching out a hand to the older man. Richard took it and kissed it twice before leaving to find Richard's brothers.




It did not take long for Richard to find his lover's brothers and tell them of Francis' deed to frame their brother for treason. So they gathered up horses and galloped to Francis' home. They infiltrated the house with a warrant sent by Richard. They found the conniving bastard in bed with two whores and dragged him out, screaming. They took him to an abandoned abbey and tied him to a wooden table at the altar. Richard stepped up to Francis, a look of anger on his face.


“Ye of such vile words.” he growled. “Do you know how much I hate thee – how we have thee for lying about the land of Gloucester?”


“What gave you the right to speak of lies?” spat George.


Francis sneered. “I have right to answer none of your questions. He betrayed us. Betrayed the king. I saw his wrong-doings with my own eyes.”


Richard stared at Francis with old eyes. Then his lip curled. “Well, then,” he said. “If thou won't speak...we'll make you.” In a flash, he drew out his sword and plunged the blade into Francis' leg. The man screamed as blood seeped out onto the wooden top and trailing to the floor. He tried to wriggle out of his bonds but George and Edward held him down. Richard withdrew the sword and watched as blood continued to pour.


“Now.” Richard hissed. “!”




In the safe home, Richard sat, petting Richmond's dog. An Irish wolf hound with really unkempt fur and had a big appetite, Richard had given some of his food to the hound when eating. He looked out of the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of his lover with his brothers, galloping across the grounds to bring him word of his salvation. Minutes passed and it seemed all to long for Richard. He was beginning to get bored again. He got up from his seat and was about to go out for a small walk when the sound of a horse neighing caught his ear. He drew his attention to the window again and saw Richard riding in on a white horse, looking determined. A smile came to Richard's lips as he saw his lover. He hurried out of the room and down the stairs as best he could meet him.


“Where is Richard of Gloucester?” a voice called from below.”


“He is in one of the rooms, my lord--.”


“Richard!” the hunchback called, as he came down. There was movement from below and the sound of hurried footsteps coming towards him. They both met each other halfway and they smiled.


“My love.” Richard gasped before he bounded up the stairs to meet him. He leaned in and kissed the younger male. When they drew back, Richard spoke again. “He confessed. It was all lies, my dearest. He wanted an easier way to the throne. Starting with us. He would name all of the king's choices as traitors. Give the king false hope that he was right to be the only heir. Struck off like flies in a home so that he would have it to himself. Luckily, I made him confess.”


“Oh, my love.” Richard said, leaning into the the older man. “The things one does for love. Thou'st mad.”


“For you, my lord, yes. Come we must tell the king of his deeds.”


Richard smiled at his lover. He took his hand in his and they headed off back to the palace to tell of what had just happened.


Chapter Text

Fashion – Lady Gaga:


I need some new stilettos

can't walk down the street in those

you are who you wear it's true

a girl's just a hot as the shoes she chose





Sherlock Holmes was famously known to be the only consulting detective in the world. Some people called him weird, a freak. (stupid Donovan) Some people said he was amazing. (brilliant John) But there wasn't a lot of people who truly knew anything about Sherlock. His favourite foods, drink, passions...fulfilment of fetishes. What he wore behind close doors.


It was only by a weird coincidence that his roomate/house-mate/lover/partner-in-crime had a foot fetish...well it was more shoe than foot. John liked his partner's feet to be clad and slipped into heels. John loved Sherlock's feet, his beautiful slender, sleek feet, to be wearing all kinds of heels. At 221B Baker Street, in Sherlock's bedroom, the detective had three wardrobes – two for his clothes and a large one of his shoes. He had only three pairs of smart black shoes that he kept only for when he was out on cases, but the rest of the wardrobe was comprised with heels – low heels, high heels, platforms, wedged. Sherlock was never keen on flats much. Much.


The designers listen from all to Jimmy Choo's (16, Louis Vuitton (20), to Alexander McQueen (15) and so on. To the designers Sherlock didn't have a big preference as to who he liked more, as one designer would release a collection more beautiful than the next. Now, part of Sherlock and John's money went to paying the rent and for groceries but the rest went to Sherlock wearing more shoes to please John with his fetish. The 'collection' that Sherlock had probably enough to rival Irene Adler's (ew).


Did she have a shoes collection?


Hmph! John didn't care about her anyway.


Today, he'd been in town. Texted his boyfriend that he'd been making a short trip into town after finishing work and received a pleasant text in return.


'Gucci or Prada? Remember no

flats. Flats are boring. SH'


John smiled and sent 'It's a surprise' as a reply. He soon walked into a couple of shops and visited the post office as he had missed a delievery. When it had arrived, Sherlock and John had been out on a case and Mrs Hudson had been visiting a friend. Now, John was carrying five shopping bags and a FedEx parcel into the flat. He pushed the door closed with his foot and proceeded up the stairs.


“Sherlock?” he yelled as he made his way up.


He found Sherlock sitting in his usual chair, idly plucking the strings of his violin. He was wearing his suit with a purple crisp yet tight shirt and, sitting perfectly on his feet, was a pair of purple Gucci sandal heels that John had bought Sherlock for his birthday two year ago. What a dish! His sleek and newly pedicured toe nails were painted the same shade. God, Sherlock was rubbing off on him.


“More shoes, John? You spoil me.”


John smiled. He moved forward and placed the bags at his feet and the box on Sherlock's lap.


“A little pressie for you.” John said, slipping off his coat and placing in on his chair.


“For what occasion?”


The former soldier sighed. “Can't I just surprise you, now and again?”


“John, you've known me for several years, nothing surprises me.”


“Bet you can't deduce what brand the shoes are?” John asked, sitting down at Sherlock's feet and picked up his right foot to examine the heels. He then noticed Sherlock looking at him with the parcel in still in his hands. A small smirk came onto his lips.


“On second thoughts...seen as it's a present.” he pulled apart the packaging to reveal a silver shoe box with the words 'Alexander McQueen' printed on the lid. He then looked to John, his smile slackened a little. “John...these...these came...from over America. They don't bring the collection to the UK yet. must have paid a fortune. Over two-thousand dollars?”


“Hmmm.” John replied, tracing a finger along one of Sherlock toes.


“Christ, John. You didn't have to.”


“Tough.” John said, glancing up at the dark haired male with a smile.


And Sherlock's smile returned. He placed the box on his knee again and opened the lid. He pulled the tissue paper to one side and gaped at the shoe. He took one in his hand to examine it more. The shoe was Alexander McQueen at it's finest. The shoe was cream white. It was an open toe sandel with thin straps to go around the heel, the ankle and the slope of the foot. Across the toe strap, was a brown and white butterfly with yellow dots here and there on the pattern. Along where the heel was white leaves as though the shoe was it branch. They were simply gorgeous!




“I know, I know.” John said, his smile now becoming a grin. “They did cost a fortune which you already knew. So, we may have to fast until we get paid again.”




“Just shush and enjoy them, will you!” the doctor laughed.


Sherlock smiled. He drew his foot away from John and leaned down to kiss his boyfriend on the lips. “You do spoil me.” he said, when they finally drew apart.


“And you spoil me, too. Some people find this weird.”


“Who cares about them? Why should you start now?”


“Do you want to see what others I got you?”


“Show me.” the detective said in a low growl.


John pulled a bag from Gucci and held it out to him.




Sherlock admired himself in the mirror. No, it wasn't a narcissistic thing he had. Or had developed. He was admiring the new Alexander McQueen shoes. And it was just the shoes he was looking at. There wasn't a stitch on him, just the shoes. He couldn't help but admire them...and he couldn't get over the fact of how much money John had spent to help their top secret loves. The detective turned this way and that to admire his feet in his new shoes, taking in everything at every angle. The door opened and John stepped in fresh from his shower before.


“I see you really like them.”


“That I do, John. I just can't get over...over how much you spent on these”


“Don't worry about it.” John said, walking over his naked boyfriend and wrapping his arms around his slender, pale waist. “Just enjoy, yeah?”


Sherlock smiled. He dragged John over to the bed and lay down on the bed with John left standing at the foot. “I'm all yours, John. Ready and very willing.”


“I can see that.” John printed out, taking hold of Sherlock's gradually hardened cock. The dark haired male gasped and moved a leg, making his foot trail tantalizingly up John's leg and slipping underneath his dressing gown. John gasped as he felt Sherlock's toes brush against his own erection.


“You like that, Johnny?”


The said man didn't reply but nodded and reached down to bring the shoe clad foot closer to his groin. The toed part of the shoe pressed hard against the throbbing organ and was joined by the other foot. John let out a moan as Sherlock moved his foot up and down, rubbing hard.


“You love it when I do this, don't you?” he teased. “You love it when my feet are doing nothing but rubbing hard against you.”


“Oh, god, yes.” John panted. “And I know you love it when I worship those beautiful feet of yours. Mark every inch of skin with my teeth, suck, lick and nibble on each toe. Caress, touch massage the skin. Oh, g-g-god! Sherlock, you're gonna make me cum at this rate.”


“That's the plan, John.” then he pulled his feet away, making the man on his feet whimper at the loss of contact. The pale, slender man on the bed turned over, presenting his beautiful arse to him. “I want you inside me, now! Please, John. I want you to make me cum and I want you to fill me up to the brim with yours.”


And with those words, John pounced on the detective making his dress gown fly off somewhere. John went for the neck first, his teeth nibbling at the parts of skin that he knew would make Sherlock whimper wantonly. His hands caressed his lover's side, touching all the parts he could reach. He then moved to the bottom of the bed where Sherlock's feet that were still clad in those gorgeous shoes. He first started started at his feet, nibbling at the skin that was exposed by the shoes, then he travelled up the calves, along the inner thighs and up to the pert firm arse cheeks. There he reached up and moved the cheeks apart to reveal that sweet puckered hole that was waiting to be teased, licking and sucked. He moved in and ran his tongue in slow tantalizing circles in the hole. John was rewarded by the low moan from the top of the bed as Sherlock took in the pleasure that John was giving him. John then moved his tongue so that he wriggled inside. Sherlock cried out into the pillow, his cries muffled by the fabric. John found the moans to be music to his ears. He wiggled his tongue once more before pulling out and moving up the bed until he was blanketing his body with Sherlock's.


“You are so beautiful, sweetheart.” John purred in Sherlock's ear. “Look at you, open and ready for me.”


“I'm always ready for you, sweetie.” groaned Sherlock. He rolled his hips back making his cheeks grind against John's.


John growled in his throat. He reached down and positioned himself so that the tip of his cock pressed against Sherlock's awaiting hole and pushed slowly and gently inside. Gasps of both men filled the room. Then John drew out slightly and then began to thrust. Sherlock's moans filled John's ears as the doctor began to increase his pace and began to pound the detective. Sherlock reached under his own body and began to stroke himself and soon matched his pace with John's. Soon enough the pleasure became too much for them both and John came deep inside Sherlock as the latter came in his own had and the sheets. Slowly coming out of their own high, they both collapsed against the bed, panting for air. They both smiled at one another and fell into a slightly awkward embrace.


Chapter Text

Rumour Has It – Adele:


she, she ain't real

she ain't gonna be able to love you like I will

she is a stranger

you and I have history or don't you remember

sure she's got it all

but baby is that really what you want?




Sherlock had had no choice but to watch John and Mary act all lovey dovey. It sickened him watching the man he cared for, that he oh so loved, consort with a woman like her. Maybe he should have followed Mycroft's advice.


'Don't get involved...'


But then he would be proving his brother right...he hated that! The last thing he wanted was to be like his brother. But Sherlock couldn't pull away ties from the Watsons. He wasn't like that. He couldn't just simply vanish out of the life of the man he...loved. Oh, these forsaken emotions! He couldn't believe that John had chosen her...over him after all that she had done. But Sherlock had helped him 'save' her because he wanted to please John. To keep him safe. But who knows what Mary could do now. But he didn't think it would be possible, right now...with a baby on the way. Jesus, a baby!


Sherlock sat in his armchair, playing a small melody on his violin, all alone. He wished to have John back, in his old armchair, telling him right from wrong, saying how brilliant, amazing and fantastic he was. He'd called for Mrs. Hudson twice now but no reply. So, either she was ignoring him or had gone out. He finished the small melody when he heard an all too familiar sound. The sound of keys in a lock. The click of the mechanism, the creaking of the door opening and then closing. He put down his violin as he listened to the sound of footsteps. And then John entered. Sherlock looked up at him.


“This is a surprise visit.” he said, simply.


“Really?” John smiled. “I though nothing was a surprise to you.”


“Well, we can't all be right.”


John laughed.


“So, what brings you here, John? Can't be tiring out already on Mary.”


“Well...not exactly. No. There's other reasons but I'm sure you can deduce them...i-i-if you can.”


Sherlock looked to his only friend. He could see John's hands twitch out from the sleeves. No, no not twitching...shaking. Why was his doctor shaking? Had something happened? There was no sign of bruising on his skin no sign of blood or a cut lip. So, John had not got into any fights on the way to Baker Street. His pupils were dilating a little. What on earth was...?


“John, what has Mary said or done to you?”


“She's...she's done nothing.Yet.” John stammered but Sherlock was having none of it.


“John, something has happened. Why else would you be here and not go to Mary--.”


“Because Mary would not understand. Not this anyway.”


“Why? What's wrong?”


John looked to the floor, a red tinge appeared on his cheeks. Sherlock leaped off his armchair and moved towards John.


“John, you can tell me. Honestly, you can. What's wrong?”


The former soldier was quiet again, not looking at Sherlock. “I...I hoped that this wouldn't affect me so much. I thought...when I found...when I...I married...but...”




“I alone. I though that when you solved that whole thing with Moriarty...things would be better. I thought it would be fine and I'd come out with it. But then you leaped off the roof and changed everything. Mary...she was a saviour to me! She helped me...then you came back, alive and changed everything AGAIN!”


“Changed what? What changed about me faking my death and--.”










“Oh...John...I had no...”


“Figured it out, eh?” John said, finally looking up at him. “The ex army doctor has fallen in love with his partner in crime. I wanted to keep these damned feelings from you. But they wouldn't leave me alone...and I don't know what to do now...with Mary and—mmph!”


Sherlock had done the only thing he could think of to ease situation. A little. With a kiss. Oh, how long he'd been wanting to do this. To kiss the man he loved. To strip him down until he was begging for Sherlock. He pulled the smaller man closer to his body wrapping his arms around him to keep him close. Then John's moved to his waist, gripping onto Sherlock's jacket tightly as their lips danced together.


How long he had WAITED for this!


Then next thing they knew was that they were both in Sherlock's bed. Clothes stripped from their bodies and left haphazardly on the floor. Two hours later, they both lay recovered from their intimate moments. John was spooned up against Sherlock as he pressed soft kisses on his shoulder and neck.


“That...was amazing.” he said.


Sherlock smiled against his skin. “Hmm, I'm having a little dèja vu here.”


John snorted a small laugh. “Well, you are.”


“Ya flatter me. It would be better for my age if you didn't fan it so much...tell me, when did you start falling for me?”


“After our first case together, after I shot that cabbie and you smiled at me and I knew...then that everything was going to be okay.” the blonde then looked up to Sherlock. “You?”


“When we were in the room with Jennifer Wilson's body, and you kept saying how brilliant my deductions were.”


“And you said it was fine.”


Sherlock hummed an agreement. He placed a long kiss on the doctor's neck.


“I guess all we need now is for Mycroft to get with someone and that's all the Holmeses taken.”


“Actually, Mycroft is with someone.”


“Really who?”






“Yes, you know. Gavin Lestrade.”


“You mean Greg?”


“Oh, well, Greg then.”


“Lestrade and Mycroft, eh? Wow, who knew...except you and then. How long and how did you find out?”


“Sometime after I came back. He told Lestrade to go to warehouse where I could reveal myself to him. It confirmed my suspicions however when I mentioned Mycroft to him. As for how long – three months after I 'jumped'.”


“That long! Jesus, how have I have not seen it!”


Because you didn't observe it, John.”


“All right, all right.” John said, turning round to face his now lover. No need to lecture me.”


Sherlock smiled and brushed back some of John's messy locks. “John, listen. I know you probably don't want to hear this...but...I want to be with you. I love Mary. Why else would marry her and then stay with her after what happened? I love you...god, I love you and I'm not asking you to choose between us because I don't want to pressure you into that, now that we've started this. You can decide that for yourself when and who in your own time.”


“I know you do, Sherlock. I know. I wish...things were different. If only Moriarty had--.”


“This...” said Sherlock, leaning his head against John's. “'s up to you. This is entirely up to I said before I'm not--.”


“I know, Sherlock. But I do want and me. I've always wanted us. Just don't know how I'm going to tell Mary...she's having my child and we're married and I just broke our vows.” Then after a moment he added. “What do you think of this?”


“Me? Well...there's a lot I could say. We do have a history, John. You and me...she may tick all of the right boxes for you.”


“Not all of them.”


“What do you mean?”


“Never mind.”


But Sherlock had a small inkling. Maybe it was to do with the fact that John preferred men to women, even though his past relationships deemed otherwise. Maybe John had only gone out with those women to forget his feelings about Sherlock. Sherlock also felt guilty and hypocritical for his feelings, as he'd said that feelings and emotions were all tactful and it was all human error. Maybe that's why he's said diminish his feelings for John without knowing. His thoughts were interrupted by John tucking himself into Sherlock, sighing happily. Sherlock smiled and leaned into the embrace.


Before long, they were both sleeping in each other's arms.




The next morning, John woke up to a few missed calls from Mary and a text wondering where he was and to pick up his phone. He supposed that he had to answer. After typing a quick message to his wife, he put down the phone and looked over to his bedmate, who was sleeping peacefully after their intimate night. John smiled. The doctor leaned down and pressed a light kiss to the sleeping detective's cheek. The detective murmured in his sleep and shifted slightly. John huffed a small laugh and leaned against the head board of Sherlock's bed. He wasn't sure what to do. About the whole situation he'd put himself into. He was stuck between the woman who was carrying his child and the man who was his best friend and whom he'd loved for a long time.


He had to make his mind up before it was too late.


Chapter Text

You're the Only One – Sergey Lazareu:


Won't ever give up

cause you're still somewhere out there

nothing or no one's gonna keep us apart

breakin' it down but I'm still getting nowhere

won't stop

hold on




It didn't take long for the dragon reach Laketown. He took a deep breath, feeling the fire boil in his lugs and released a long stream of fire. It lit up the houses at the entrance, burnings walk ways, house roofs, boats and the gates. He could see people running. He landed on the roof of a church, the roof splintered under his weight. This was too easy. He couldn't waste his time, destroying and burning the houses, he needed to find his mate and dwarves before it was too late. As Smaug roared out his planned welcome on Laketown, his eyes caught something. He looked over to the middle of a bell tower and saw...




Tied up to the mass wooden structure of the bell tower, gagged and the sense of fear and tears welling up in his eyes. His hair blowing in the breeze was...




The dwarves had done this! That fucking usurper!


Bilbo thrashed against the bell tower, he looked as though he was trying to call out to Smaug but couldn't. Smaug raised his head and roared in anger.


The dragon leaped off the crumbling church and bounded his way over the bell tower. He kept his golden eyes fixed on the Hobbit that was trapped on the bell tower. In fact he was concentrating that much on him that he barely saw the black arrow fly by him and struck a house. Smaug turned his head in the direction the arrow had come from. High up on a rooftop stood the dwarf pince with a large bow in his possession. Smaug growled. He felt the fire boil again and he unleashed another burst of fire at which the dwarf leaped away from. Smaug huffed and carried on his way towards the bell tower. Bilbo nodded him. He wanted his mate back.


Smaug's claws came down, crushing a house and sent people flying into the cold water or running for their lives. He didn't care. He wanted Bilbo to be safe. Soon, he reached the bell tower and climbed his way up. Suddenly, another black arrow came flying but missed Smaug, Smaug ignored it. He continued his way, not caring about the wooden structure groaning under his weight. His head reached the top and found his lover, still bound to the mast of the tower. Somehow, his clever Hobbit had worked off the gag.


“Smaug!” the Hobbit gasped. “Run, you have to flee, now!”


“I'm not leaving you.” Smaug growled.


“Smaug, they have black arrows. Get out of here, please.”


“No.” Smaug growled. The fire drake reached up with a winged claw and broke the mass in his grasp. The roof would have caved in on top of the Halfing but Smaug batted it away like a pesky fly. He gathered up Bilbo in his paw and dropped from the tower before spiralling right and flying away from the crumbling tower. Smaug landed in the middle of a courtyard that was empty. Bilbo clambered down and allowed Smaug to work his teeth on free his bonds. Bilbo gasped as he felt the tight bonds slip away. He turned around to the dragon with a smile and hugged his muzzle. Over the burning fire, the screams of panicked villagers and roars of commands, the sound of Smaug's purrs reached Bilbo's ears. The dragon drew back a little and looked to the Hobbit.


“My dear Bilbo, we must flee. Now.”


Bilbo nodded.


“Stay under me, little one and follow me as fast as you can. I will then give you the signal for to climb on me and we'll leave for Erebor.”


Bilbo nodded again and did as he was told. The two moved off out to the edge of Laketown. Smaug planned that they would took off and circle back around to Erebor where they would both live in peace. As they passed a forked street, Smaug felt pain and he roared out, stumbling slightly, trying not to crush his mate.


“Smaug! Smaug, what is it?”


Smaug looked back to see a black arrow pinned between his scales on his hind leg. “Oakenshield! Gah!”


The Hobbit moved out from under him but Smaug moved to keep Bilbo covered.


“No, don't move. Stay under me.”


“But Smaug, you're hurt.”


“I don't care. Just stay under me. I do not want to see you hurt as well.”


“But if you just let me--.”


“Please, just do as I say. Stay under me.” The dragon watched as Bilbo moved back under him and they continued along. They reached the edge as Smaug told Bilbo to climb on board. The Hobbit did but not before pulling the black arrow from Smaug's hind. With a few beats of his wings, Smaug took off with Bilbo, clinging on. Smaug circled around and soon flew back towards Erebor, but not before sending a burst of fire onto the town. The two lovers then flew back to the Lonely Mountain...


Where they spent years ad years together, happy and content.


Chapter Text


I'm your biggest fan,

I'll follow you until ya love me


baby there's no other superstar

you'll know that I'll be

your papa-paparazzi

promise I'll be kind

but I won't stop until that boy is mine




Iain McKelpie wanted to slow down in life. With the things that had happened over in Pakistan and Afghanistan, it had become too much for Iain. True, doing the top stories like he used to, gave him the big money but he really wasn't too fussed. After in the work building, Iain was greeted by Tanya with a smile on her face.


“All right, Iain?” she called.


“Oi, oi, oi.” the Scotsman called. “Come on, then, tell me what story I've got today then.”


“Well, there's a small group of shooters in York. They are returning to Aidensfield for being together for ten years and they want to celebrate--.”


“And get the papers involved.”


Tanya smiled. “As many as possible. You and me are to photograph them and interview them. Maybe view them in some shooting games as well.”


“Don't it sound a wee bit dangerous?”


“As long as they don't point the gun at you. You'll be fine, honestly.”


Iain sighed and agreed to the small project.


Two days later, he found himself and Tanya in a truck with the equipment in the back. The truck ambled along the countryside roads, a police motorbike passed them, with sirens wailing. Tanya slowed the truck down in case the policemen pulled them over but he didn't and just hurried on his way. The town had been known to be a keeper of it's roots and looked to be still in the decade of the sixties. But there was still a few modernizations here and there but still looked as though everyone was struck in a time warp of sorts. A few minutes later, they arrived at Ashfordly Hall and found a gaggle of people outside – mostly man with unloaded and open guns on their arms but there was a couple of girls with them. Iain hopped out, grabbed his gear as Tanya clambered out and yelled a greeting.


“Hello, fellows!” she called. “Is this the Aidensfield Shooting Group that's celebrating ten years?”


“It is.” said a man, who was taller than both Tanya and Iain. “You must be the reporters from Glasgow, is that right?”


“Correct. I'm Tanya and this is Iain, my photographer.”


“Meet tae meet ya.” Iain said, holding out a hand to shake. The man shook it. “There's usually more of us but they were busy.”


“It's all right. As there's more of us it will make you feel right at home.”


“Great, so, where shall we start?”




Iain watched as Tanya talked through what they wanted from the shooting club a.k.a act as natural as possible! Iain made sure that his camera was fully operated and waited for Tanya to snap out of her stupor. A man, who was taller than Iain, stepped forward. He was one of the shooters as Iain could tell by his tweed clothing. He had cool blue eyes and high cheekbones that could easily cut glass. He looked at Iain with a smirk. Iain stared with an unamused expression. True, the guy looked cute but there was something about his smirk that made Iain feeling uneasy.


“Hey,” he said. “Name's Iain.”


“Toby. Toby Fisher.”


“How long ye been a shooter for?”


“More than ten years.” said Toby. “My father taught me all the shooting tips he knew.”


“Really?” Iain asked, surprised.


“Yes. I'll know more about shooting than these lot will.”


One of the shooters must have heard Toby's boast because they cast him a stern look. Iain raised an eyebrow, questioningly. The shooter looked away.


“I'd love ta see that happen.” the photographer said.


Toby gave him a look, as though Iain was being sarcastic. “You would, would you?”


“Aye, seen as though you're eager to show off, matey boy.”


Toby glared at Iain before walking back over to his friends. Iain smirked and walked over to Tanya, who was interviewing one of the shooters.


“Shall we get started then?” Toby asked.


Robert, one of the shooters, sighed. Obviously, Toby's attitude was well known. Soon, both Iain and Tanya were interviewing the shooters with Iain getting photos of what was going on. After a few minutes, Iain called to others to get together.


“Right, ya cankerous lot, can we please get together? I'd like to get a little group photo.” after arranging everyone and...purposely putting Mr. Fisher at the side, he took hold of his camera. “Right, everyone. Let's see those pearly whites.” He positioned his camera and sighed of what he saw. “Mr. Fisher, come on, smile for me.”


Toby scowled but put on a smile on his face. As Iain took photos, he thought of something completely daft. Absolutely stupid.


“Right,” he said. “Just a few ones for luck.”


He zoomed in the lens and took five shots...of Toby Fisher smiling.




Iain sat in his room of the B&B, scanning through the photos of Iain smiling. The Scotsman felt his stomach doing back flips again as he stared at the photos of the pretty man. The smirk that Toby had given him before was one of a snobbish attitude and smugness but this smile, this one, was genuine. It was a genuine, beautiful, not fake but true...


Iain loved the sight of it.


He wanted to get closer to this Toby. To see that smile again. Even if the man was a wee prick! He downloaded the photos, he needed for the article onto his computer but kept the ones of Toby smiling and a couple of Toby practising shooting for the big competition. And he spent half the night staring at the perfect photos.




Toby sighed as he sat down at the table with his breakfast in front of him. The others had not even bothered wake up early in time for the competition. Well, it just showed who was more dedicated for this competition. As Toby tucked in to his breakfast, he heard a voice. He looked up to see the photographer from yesterday. Iain, was it? He watched as the Scotsman and the blonde woman, he worked for, walk into the dining room. Toby sighed as though irritated and continued to eat. Because he was too busy enjoying the lovely food, he didn't notice Iain coming over and take a seat.


“Hello, pretty boy.”


Toby jumped, nearly dropping his fork but caught it in time. He glared at Iain, who was sniggering. “What do you want?” he snapped.


“Just wanted to see how our 'greatest shooter' was doing this morning. Didn't think you would be an early bird”


“The feeling is mutual.” Toby said, before drinking his tea.


“Well, ya kinda half tae be in this line o' work, dearie. Fits with the job.”


“Not all the time.”


“True, but when it does, it does.”


“But you still didn't answer my question: what do you want?”


“An' I already told ye. I wanted to meet and greet my favourite shooter.”


Toby raised an eyebrow. “You already made that choice after one day of meeting me?”


“Aye, 'course I did.”


“ are something, aren't you?”


Iain sniggered again. “I've been told. He said. “But I'll tell ya something.” And he beckoned for Toby to lean closer so that he could whisper. “I bet you're as tight as a virgin, my little scrumpet.”


Toby's cheeks felt warm. Had this man just compared him to that of a virgin? How dare he! “That's...that's none of your business.” he said, defensively.


“Really? 'Cause the bonny wee blush that appeared on ya cheeks says otherwise.”


Toby scowled. “Will you please bugger off and leave me alone?”


Iain blinked, taken aback, then pouted. “Aw! Not even without a small kiss goodbye?”


“If we weren't in public, I'd punch you here and now.”


“Ooooh. Someone's got his knickers in a twist. Well, I'll leave ya be. See ya at the shooting ground.”


Toby watched as Iain got to his feet and left the table. His eyes flitted down to the part arse cheeks that were clad in denim. He felt a stirring in his navel. A stirring, he had not felt in years. Toby quickly looked away before he was caught and focused on finishing his breakfast. Why the hell was he feeling like this? About a man who irritated him to no end after nearly two days? He could possibly like the man after nearly two days, he couldn't stand his guts! Toby growled in his throat and continued to eat.


“Ah! Toby.”


The man looked up again to see Robert and the other coming over.


“Where the hell have you all been?” he snarled.


“Don't get your knickers in a twist, Toby.” said Carl. “The competition doesn't start yet.”


Toby's cheeks went red as he heard the same words that the Scotsman had said before. By the time, Toby finished breakfast, the others were now sitting down to eat. He then noticed Iain and Tanya coming over, so he busied himself with his coffee.


“Evenin', everyone.” chirped Tanya. “I hope you're all fresh up and ready to go for today.”


“As well as can be expected.” Robert said, putting down his knife and fork.


Tanya smiled. “Well, me and Iain will just be getting to our rooms after breakfast, sort some things out and then we'll meet you at Ashfordly Hall.”


“Sounds good. We'll meet you there.”


Tanya thanked everyone before heading off. Iain shot Toby a wink and followed Tanya. Toby scowled again.




“You want to what?”


“I just want to stay here for a bit. Maybe a couple of days, is that all right?”


“No, it isn't! Iain, you have a job to do and you can't just leave me here.”


“Of course, I can. You take the truck and I'll ask a taxi to bring me back.”


“Iain, you've had ideas before but this is ridiculous.”


Iain sighed. Iain was planning on staying as he'd stated that he wanted to explore Aidensfield a bit more. But the real reason was that he wanted to be around Toby and kiss-kick some sense into him.


“I'll be all right.” Iain said, waving off worry. “Don't worry about me, I'm a big boy. Anyway, did Rob invite you to their little celebration party?”


“Yeah, he did. Are you going?”


“Yeah, why not. Deserve a good night up after what I've been through.”


“What? Bad break ups and two kidnappings?”


“Aye. Besides, I'll see if I can drink that Fisher bloke under the table.”


“You've got a little thing for him, haven't you?” Tanya teased.




“That Toby Fisher guy. You like him, don't you?”


“What makes you think I like him?”


“Well, don't get me wrong, Iain, but your cheeks have gone red and I saw the way you both looked at each other at breakfast. It was like a cat and mouse game.”


“Well, so what if I do?” Iain asked, not liking to be teased.


“Nothing.” Tanya interjected. “I don't have a problem with it, at all...but listen, Iain, and I'm saying this as a friend. I know you've finally gotten over Kim and moved on, but maybe be a bit more careful this time. You don't want to waste an opportunity like this.”


Iain stared at Tanya. She had a point. It had been three years since he'd moved on from Kim and all of his desperate attempts to see her and win her back. Rejection after rejection, Iain had finally given up on her and decided to focus on his work and hopefully finding someone else. Maybe this was him moving on and he'd found the right person. He wasn't sure but he had to find out. Even if he was got rejected in the process.




The party for the shooters was nothing but music, food and drinks from the hotel bar. Iain had arrived twenty minutes after the party started with Tanya, finding the shooters, either dancing with their girlfriends or wives or drinking themselves senseless. Tanya had went off to get them drinks and Iain had went off into the small crowd. He'd soon found Toby, sitting miserably on a corner drinking. He grinned and made his way over...













The next morning, Iain groaned in his sleep and rolled over. He felt a warm body next to him. He slowly opened his eyes and saw a bare pale skinned torso under his cheek. Iain looked up and saw that the torso belonged to Toby. Toby was asleep, his mouth slightly open. Iain smiled. His thumb brushed against the soft flesh.


He remembered dragging Toby to his hotel, both slightly drunk and hoping for something more. The sense of lust was too much for them. Their clothes being torn off as they clashed lips.


Iain stretched trying not to wake up Toby as the man slept. Once hearing the slightly click of his bones, Iain crawled up Toby's body and gently nuzzled the hunter's neck. Toby made a sleepy noise and began to stir. Toby moved making their bodies brush together. Toby opened his eyes and saw Iain smiled up at him. The dark haired male rolled his eyes.


“Stop grinning, will you?” he moaned.


“Can't help it, dearie. You look good in a morning. I should have know you were a cute, little virgin.”


“I...oh, never mind.” he sagged against the bed and grimaced as the small hangover kicked in. Luckily, they both hadn't drunk much alcohol. Iain shifted so that his elbows were on either side of Toby's shoulders and he grinned down at his grimacing lover.


“You do look good in a morning.”


Toby cracked open an eye and mumbled. “Thank you...last night was...amazing.”


Iain chuckled. “Well, aren't we all sweet? Does sex often make you like this?”


Toby made a growling noise in his throat and then stopped at the hangover pain kicked in again.


“So, what do you have in mind for later?”




Toby had decided then and there that he would give the Scotsman a change no matter how much he pressed Toby's buttons. The others and Tanya had teased them both relentlessly. Toby had been embarrassed but Iain had laughed it all off. Tanya soon left with the equipment and a promise from Iain that he would come back to work and that left Iain all alone with Toby. Iain had been driving around with a hired car as Toby was to go off with his mates to Ashfordly Hall, and he came across an abandoned area. It led to a river with a small peer. Iain got an idea for him to spend with Toby if he got a moment with the photographer. He took his camera that he'd left behind and took a photo of the picturesque place. He then drove back to find Toby.


By the time Iain found his lover, they were going their separate ways. Toby spotted Iain inside the car and made his way over.


“Hello, gorgeous. Going my way?” the Scotsman purred.


“Maybe. Got something planned for us?”


“Course I do. Here, take a wee look at this.” he said, holding his camera and showed the picture to Toby.


“A lake?” Toby asked, his face showing a disgruntled look.


“Aww, dearie, don't be like that. Come on, be a little more romantic, will ya?”


Toby looked at Iain, his expression softening. “Well, I suppose...we could try it out.”


Iain grinned, like a Cheshire cat and Toby hopped in. The photographer drove back along the road towards the hidden lake. There, Iain dragged Toby towards the lake. Toby looked instantly shocked by the splendour of it. Iain guessed he was having second thoughts about the situation. He moved closer to the shooter and wrapped his arms around him.


“So what do you think, sweetie?”


“It's...okay, you may have been right.”


Iain chuckled. “Come on. When was the last time you had fun?”


“Careful. I might say something you might not like.” Toby teased. He looked down, noticing something at Iain's side. “Why have you brought your camera with you?”


“Take some sights of the beautiful scenery, of course.”


The Englishman scoffed. He looked out to the lake before glancing back at the Scotsman. “Fancy a swim?”


“You must be joking, there could be anything in there! I was thinking more like getting a wee tan on your skin.”


“There's hardly any sun, Iain.”


“There will be soon. Come on.” Iain moved over towards the small pier and waited for Toby to join him but the shooter didn't. Instead he began to undo the buttons on his jacket and slipped it to the floor. “Oooh, a little strip tease, eh?”


He could see Toby cast a glance to him, smirk and then look away. Toby slipped his hands to his waistband and pull at the shirt un-tucking it from his trousers. Iain's eyes flashed at the sight of the shooter's creamy white skin. It was brief but Iain enjoyed it. For his eyes only after all. Iain looked down at his camera and got an idea. He lifted his camera, switching it on and pointed it towards Toby. One button...then two...then three...




Toby whipped around and saw Iain with his camera aimed at him. The Scotsman lowered his camera down innocently. Toby pouted as though offended by what he'd done.




“Are you taking photos of me? You perv?”


“No idea what you're talking about.”


Toby rolled his eyes and undid the last button. He looked back to Iain who was watching him, like a lion on its prey. Slowly, he allowed the shirt to slip down his back and to the floor. Iain caught another photo of him. Toby turned round and smile coyly at the photographer. Iain watched as the half naked man came over, sat in his lap and pressed his lips against his. The Scotsman smiled, a goofy smile. “I think I could be your biggest fan, Mr. Fisher.”


“Well, I suppose my biggest fan deserves a little something special.”


Iain chuckled as he pulled Toby down into a another kiss as they basked in the sun which had then chosen to appear.


Chapter Text

With You – Collabro (Ghost OST cover):


I keep thinking that you’ll be calling
Everyone says that it’s all in my head
And I can’t accept it yet
I’m not ready to just give in
I know that I can’t live in this pain
With these feelings of regret
I can’t comprehend this
And pretend that I don’t care
Any place I wanna be
I wanna see you there




Smiley sat in the car with Peter, a silence settling between them. It was a comforting silence. Smiley could see when he'd climbed into Peter's car that the agent had been crying again. His cheeks were tear stained and his eyes looked ready to cry some more. He was still aching from what had happened merely weeks ago. Now, George could see him shaking a little as though holding himself back from crying some more. Smiley lowered his head a little and looked out of the windscreen.


“I will find who killed Hector, Peter. You have my word.”


Peter didn't say anything but looked at his boss with reproachful eyes. Smiley gave him a small smile which Peter gave before quickly going back a frown.


“You don't have to hold it in, you know.” he said. “You don't have to hide your feelings from me.”


Peter didn't say anything. He didn't move or cry his heart out. He just stared ahead of him.


Three weeks ago, Hector had been assigned on a job to hunt down an retired assassin for apparently 'knowing too much'. So, Hector took it and asked Peter to help him with the final step but it had all gone wrong. Hector had been killed. Some say by his own hand but some say that it was planned. Peter had heard the commotion outside the barn of the home and hurried in. The people whom Hector was after were long gone and the Circus turned up in a matter of minutes. Peter had stood at the door of the barn, looking down at his lover's dead body. A piece of shrapnel sticking into his forehead. Two days later, Peter held a small funeral with the help of some his colleagues. Smiley had given Peter two weeks of grievance leave and soon Peter came back but Smiley knew that Peter was in bits. So, he decided not to give Peter too much work.


Two nights after the talk, Smiley worked on finding out the situation about Hector, finding out from files and recorded phone calls about the case and soon found something crucial. He contacted two of his colleagues to meet him in a ministerial warehouse. Oliver Lacon and Minister met him on the top floor of an old office room. The walls were white but peeling off in patches and cracks along the wall and ceiling. Several stacks of chairs were piled up and pushed up against the wall by the windows. The clock tower hiding Big Ben tolled to signal two o'clock in the afternoon. Smiley entered the room and walked over to Lacon and Minister. He greeted them and they replied in kind.


“You should be retired now, Smiley?” Lacon teased.


“You know that spies never retire from this line of work.” he said, coolly. “They love the thrill of the chase and the hunt of this life.”


Lacon and Minister smiled and Smiley moved towards the window to look down at the traffic.


“You both know why I'm here.” Smiley continued. Minister and Lacon looked to George, giving off looks of horror and realisation. “Both of you. I'm here to find out what exactly happened with Dixon's death on behalf of my associate: Peter Guillam. And just so you know, my associate won't take kindly to the words 'I don't know' or 'we cannot divulge that information'.”


Minister looked to Lacon who gave Minister a look as though pushing Minister to speak. Minister looked out of the window and spoke. “We were told not to speak of this. To anyone.”


“And I said to you, my associate will not accept lies. He will go on a rampage to find out who killed Dixon and also who ordered it.”


Lacon stepped in. “We were just following orders from Control but we figured something was up. Control made a judgement about an assassin called Maynard. Victor Maynard. Maynard was a retired assassin who fell in love with a girl on one of his missions. He was sent to kill her but couldn't. Hector was then sent to kill the girl but failed to do so and Maynard, the girl and a boy named Tony went on the run. Hector soon gave up and Peter introduced him into the Circus as you know but then information of Maynard apparently came into Control's hands and was told a lot of Chinese whispers. So we heard but then we found out who actually planted the information to Control.”


“The whole thing about Maynard knowing top secret information was false?”


“Yes.” said Minister. “The information was bogus and Maynard wanted to get back at Dixon. He was paid to do so.”


“And who was it that planned the whole thing?”


Minister looked to Lacon before saying. “Percy, Bill and the others did.”


“Alleline, Esterhause, Bland and Haydon?”


“Yes. They somehow fabricated the information about Maynard. Why, we're not to sure about.”


Smiley was silent. He was thinking over the information he'd been given. How would Peter react after hearing this?


“We need,” Smiley said after a moment. “to tell Peter, calmly. I know the boy won't go on a murderous rampage if he now has the answers. He will do as he's told. Granted he may throw a punch their way for Hector Dixon but with me at his side, he'll be calm. I'll keep him in check. He'll thank you both for this.”


Lacon nodded and Minister said nothing. Smiley nodded and left the two alone into the room.




Smiley found Peter at his desk, on the phone. He pulled Peter into a quiet room and told Peter everything. However, Peter did not pull any punches or destroy the room. He did break down, though. He cried and cried and cried. Smiley watched him calmly, knowing how much he was hurt. He'd been down that road before. As Peter calmed down, Smiley spoke again gently to him and told him of his plan. Out of the four traitors of the Circus, Smiley knew that Toby was the weakest of the lot and was able to crack under pressure – how he got into this line of work, Smiley didn't know!


Toby was in the lift of the Circus HQ, putting on his gloves and wanting to go home to his wife and rest for the following day. The lift stopped at its arrival point and the lift doors slid open. Toby turned and froze when he saw Guillam standing before him, his hands tucked into his pockets. He turned his head to glare at Toby. Toby could see the younger man's eyes grow hard and cold like ice. Peter was in a foul mood and no mistake!


“Guillam? What--?”


“Car.” Guillam growled. “Now.”


Toby blinked, not knowing what to say. Having enough, Guillam took Toby's arm in a vice like grip and pull him over to the fawn coloured Citroen that sat waiting. Guillam pushed into the passenger's seat and walked around to the driver's seat. Guillam then drove them to a house. He parked the car outside and everything became silent. Toby looked round.


“What's going on?” he whimpered. “Guillam, what are you playing at?”


Guillam said nothing, but his hand tightened on the steering wheel. He looked as though he was trying to calm himself and fighting a temptation to throw a fist into Toby's face. Toby hoped that wasn't the case. Suddenly, the back doors opened and Smiley and Fawn slid into the car.


“George? Fawn? What's going on?”


Smiley ignored him and spoke to Guillam. “Peter, drive us to the air field, please.”


Air field? What was Smiley playing at? Were they going to interrogate him? But what about? He'd done nothing. He'd gone along with Percy and Bill's schemes and he'd agreed. Percy had been the one to organise to whole thing with Dixon. Toby then froze, he glanced at Fawn and then to Guillam who was still looking haughty but not as tense as before. Smiley had this strange pull on Guillam and was able to ease the young agent into a calm state. Guillam nodded and soon the car moved off. Arriving at the air field, planes were taking off and circling the perimeter of the airfield a few times before coming back to land. The Citroen came to a stop at one of the tarmacs of the air field. Smiley spoke.


“Peter, wait here. Toby, out, now.”


Toby did as he was told and he followed Smiley over several feet away from the car. Smiley turned to look at Toby.


“You might have guessed that I want a word with you, Toby. It is a serious matter.”


“What is going on, George? Why is Guillam looking so put out?”


Smiley stared at Toby before speaking. “Peter is one of the reasons why I am talking to you. Let me ask you you remember a late former agent by the name of Hector Dixon?”


Toby said nothing. His mouth opened and quivered.


“I see you have. Or perhaps not. We heard from sources that you and Percy and Bill and Roy assigned a little did you not. You gave Control the idea to have Maynard be taken down by Dixon because of their...'history'. But it was planned wasn't it? Why did you have Dixon killed, Toby?”


He'd been caught. Who had told Smiley about the whole cover up on Dixon? Had Percy or Roy let slip. Smiley was staring at him, intensely.


“I could get Peter and Fawn to make you talk. I'm sure Peter will take great pleasure in that.”


“All right...” he said, a little too quickly. “We went behind the orders of you and Control to have Dixon eliminated from the Circus.”


“And you all assigned Maynard to kill him? How much for?”


“O-o-only a few grand.” he stuttered. “It was to help keep Maynard and his girl safe with their kid and that pupil of Maynard's. Percy thought it best to have Maynard do the job because of the rivalry they had. Maynard had been scared because he thought Dixon would have gone rabid and go after his family. He didn't want them in danger. We knew Dixon wouldn't be able to resist a case on Maynard and...” he broke off.


“And you lured him? A fly to the jam, and had Maynard kill him with his own gun in cold blood. Then you covered it all up by having Control and some of us think that Maynard had top secret information and thinking that Dixon was – what, killed by accident or in action? Perfect plan, yes?”


Toby gulped. Smile looked over to the Citroen car. Toby followed his gaze. Peter had his turned, looking out the window, or was listening to what Fawn was probably saying to him?


“It's a good thing, Peter isn't listening to this. He would have had a lot to say about this little choice of yours.”


Toby looked back to Smiley who was now circling around him like a lion with its prey. What did Guillam have to do with this? Toby knew that Dixon and Peter had been close but just what had gone between them?


“Oh, yes...” Smiley said. There was something in his voice that made Toby feel quite uneasy. “There it is.”




“There's fear in your eyes. You all knew about Dixon being in a relationship with Peter didn't you?”


“P-P-Peter was--.”


“Oh, yes. He loved that man, you know.”


Toby gulped. Now, he understood and knew that he was in very deep water. “G-George, I...”


“I don't think now is the time to be making excuses, Toby. Peter won't take kindly to what's been done. It could have been all up to him. He probably would have you all hanged but that would mean exposing him and Dixon and a lot of enemies would have known. Blackmail is a terrible thing, Toby. Be glad he left it all up to me.”


Toby gulped again.




Peter sat in one of Smiley's spare rooms. His coat and jacket was hanging over a spare chair and he sat on the bed, lighting up a cigarette. He'd sworn that one of these days he would give up these things, but that had gone out of the window. The distress of Hector's death had affected him greatly. But how was he suppose to react over the loss of his lover? It wouldn't be any different for anyone. Peter took a puff of the fresh cigarette.


Peter missed him. His smile, his lovely voice, the feel of his surprisingly soft skin and golden hair. He wanted to have Hector back in his arms. Possibly in his bed, too. Peter's blue-green eyes flickered down to the gold ring on his little finger. It was a reminder of his and Hector's love for one another. They'd exchanged eternity rings and placed them on their little fingers. Sometimes they liked to think of it as being engaged even though they would have no chance to. Peter took in another breath of the nicotine and tobacco mixture and let it escape from his lips to form clouds in the air.


“What do I do now, Hector?” he whispered. There was no reply.


Chapter Text


Million Reasons – Lady Gaga:


When I bow down to pray

I try to make the worse seem better

Lord, show me the way

to cut through all his worn out leather

I've got a hundred million reasons to walk away

but baby I just need one good one, good one




Oliver had not known what to do for himself. About Julian. Ever since he'd came back to Newton Haven, he'd been bombarded with questions from his family and friends. His sister, Sam, had been the most inquisitive about Oliver's sudden arrival, but Oliver didn't want to speak on the matter. Especially about Julian. Oliver had tried day after day to get his mind off the Australian but nothing had worked. Everyone kept reminding him. The internet, the television, the radio, the sodding newspapers. Oliver wanted to be rid of the man, for what he'd done! His heart was still broken after all that had happened. But he didn't want Julian in any more trouble. He hated to admit it...but he still cared for the idiot. So, when Oliver received a special request for him to come to the embassy where Julian was living. Oliver had been in two minds about going and somehow, he agreed to going. So, a private car took him with a bag of his belongings and travelled to London. A couple of hours after arriving, Oliver was the escorted to the embassy. With every minute that passed, Oliver felt butterflies in his stomach.


He soon reached the door and one of the men, who'd come with him, knocked on the door. Oliver stepped inside as he knew Julian wouldn't answer. The room was small with plain white walls with brown mahogany skirting boards. The room was like a mash up of a living room, a kitchen and a bedroom. Julian was sitting on the couch, fiddling through the T.V. channels. He looked up and stared as Oliver stood in the doorway, looking round at the room.


“Ollie.” he breathed. Oliver looked to the blonde and smiled.


“Hey, Julian.”


“It's all right,” Julian said addressing the escorts. “You can go. He'll be fine.”


Oliver moved into the room, as the men of the embassy left them. Oliver smiled awkwardly at Julian as the Australian moved towards him. Julian pulled him into a hug.


Oliver froze where he stood as he felt his ex-fiancé's arms around him and soon melted into the embrace. Shit...he'd missed this. Oh, god!


“Thank you for coming, Ollie.” Julian breathed. “I was hoping you would. I wanted to see how you were doing after all this time.”


“Yeah, yeah.” Oliver said, as he pulled back. He soon realised his vision was blurry. He had tears in his eyes. “Well, it had been a few years.”


“Yeah, it has.” Julian reached up and brushed the tears away from his eyes. “Er, sit down. Do you want something to eat, drink?”


“Um, no, actually. I'm okay. I had something before.”


“All right.”


They both sat down and stared at the television as it played today's news.


“So,” Oliver said, turning to look at the white blonde. “I hear you met the Mother Monster, herself.”




“You know...Lady Gaga.”


“Oh, yes, it was a bit of a interesting evening.”


“Did she give you a serenade of her album?”


“She was actually promoting that Fame perfume of hers.”


“Shame. So, the election, eh?”


Julian rolled his eyes but the smile on his face gave him away. “What about it?”


“Who did you want to win? Or am I asking a silly question?”


“Silly question.” Julian said with a smile. “Trump and Clinton are as bad as each other.”


“I think Clinton would have been the best candidate. Fracking and miss emails aside. Beside hasn't he got some hidden tax debts, too?”


Julian let out a huff of laughter. “Trump doesn't have experience. You need it for this kind of work and I don't think him starting from the top is good for him.”


“It never is for politicians.” Oliver mused.


Julian smiled. After a few moments of looking at Oliver, he said. “I've missed you.”






“...I've...bloody hell. I've missed you too.”


Julian's smile became bigger. He moved closer to Oliver and pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek. The blonde felt his cheeks turn warm. The Australian rested his head against Oliver's.


“I'm...I'm sorry about...what happened before. There was a lot happening.”


“Yeah, there was.” Oliver said. “But it's been years, Julian,” he moved his head back from Julian's. “And you decide to contact me out of the blue and invite me over after all this time. Why have you waited until now?”


“I wasn't allowed to be in contact with anyone for a while. I had to make sure the smoke had cleared and things kept happening and I needed to make sure that you had a clear head and give you some space. God, Ollie I did want to talk to you. I tried.”


“That's not good enough, Julian. You gave up on me because of that stupid website. I didn't want to see you get hurt. I was terrified for you. Anyone of us could have been killed.”


“We were careful.”


“Careful? You wanted to publish and broadcast to the world about some stupid war logs. Does it even matter what they say? There's too much going on in the world right now and frankly, I don't want to see a single front page with a picture of you with bullets in your chest or your head cut off!”


Julian stared at Oliver, shocked.


“I'd rather it had just been like before. Before you decided to develop a power complex.”


“I...I never...I only wanted--.”


“Oh, 'I'. It's never about anyone else. It's always you, you, you. Did you ever think about 'us' during those times we were moving from place to place?”


“I took you with me, didn't I? I couldn't risk you going on your own and being caught. That's why you came with me. I never wanted to see you with your own head cut off either. Or being locked away. I had to keep you with me. You could have gone if you wanted to. Find a safe way back home but I highly doubt that would have worked.”


There was a pause as the two looked at one another. Julian leaned in close.


“If you knew of the danger why didn't you leave me in the first place?”


Oliver was silent for a few minutes before answering. “Because I loved you.”


Julian's smile came back. “That's the Ollie I know.”


“Shut it.” Oliver snarled, turning his attention back to the screen.


“No...why did you come here if you hated me--?”


“I don't hate you. Stop putting words in my mouth.”


“If you hated me so much why did you come all the way here?”


“Same reason why you let me come everywhere with you. I have missed you, Julian. This whole bloody thing has given me mixed feelings about us. I can't bring myself to hate you. I'm not that kind of person. But I've tried again and again to forget about you and I can't. There are things that keep reminding me of you. I want to forget it all.”


“I don't blame you for doing so.” Julian said. “I hate myself for picking my creation of a website over you. But look where I am, now. My friends hope that we can be together again. I was terrified the first few years because I heard nothing from you. I was scared something had...had happened to you.”


“You have my sister to thank for that.”


“And to her I'm grateful. Would...would you not be willing to give us another try?”


Oliver looked to the Australian. “How? I don't know if I can trust you anymore. You've been cooped up in here for years, I'd feel trapped.”


“You don't have to be here with me all the time you'd be able to go out in secret, visit family when you want--.”


“No. No, I can't, Julian. It wouldn't be healthy. I can't keep on doing this because you want to.”


“I'm not wanting you to because I want to. I want both of us to want this. To start over.”


“Julian, please--.”


“No. Listen, listen to me. I want you to make your own mind up. On us and if you do want to be with me, great. If not then I'll leave you alone. It's your decision.”


Oliver looked to Julian's pleading face. He sighed and nodded his answer.


“But I'm going back home after Thursday.” Oliver said. “And then I'll make my decision.”




Two weeks later, Oliver did move into the embassy where Julian was staying.


Chapter Text

Fever – Adam Lambert/Lady Gaga:


My one and own

I wanna get you alone

give you a fever

fever, yeah




Dr. Williams sat waiting on his cot bed in the dimly prison cell. Once again. He'd been here for too long. According to him. But here he was, waiting...waiting...waiting.


Waiting for what you ask? Well, it was a case of whom and what. For a few weeks, Williams had been visited, or practically stalked angel. No, he wasn't off his rocker. He meant it! An angel called Islington. Williams had heard the sultry seductive tones of the angel's voice, speaking out to him...and only him. Williams was the only one that could see and hear the angel within the prison. After weeks of this, the angel finally showed himself and revealed all to Williams. He knew of the ordeal that Williams had gone through after being tricked into being given Voorman's God Complex. Islington had seemed to pity Williams and even tried to seduce the former doctor. Twice since then Islington had visited him. He was only one who would. No one wanted to go near Williams. But since the last visit, Islington had been gone for a long time. Williams was still not sure how many days had passed but he wanted his angel to come back. Williams missed him, even though he probably wouldn't even admit it. From the small window in Williams' room, he watched the moon, training his eyes on it, and whispering a prayer that Islington would come to him.


After a while, Williams gave up and lay as best he could on the bed provided. He closed his eyes and waited for another day to come. But it didn't last long as he felt movement and suddenly, a hand brushing along the straight jacket. Was that...?


“Did you call for me?”


Williams opened his eyes. He looked round to see a pair of eerie blue looking him. “Islington?”


“Yes, it is me, my dear.” Williams felt a cold kiss on his temple. “You have missed me?”


“God, yes.” Williams breathed. He felt the brush of feathers against his cheeks. He found it a comfort.


He heard Islington chuckle. “My dear doctor.”


“Where have you been?”


“Here and there. I've been busy trying to track someone down. Just need to settle in some old scores.”


“And what was that?”


“You'll find out soon, my dear. For now, I know that you have a slight fever.”


“What? I feel fine. There's nothing wrong with me.”


“Oh, but there is.” The angel purred. “You have been missing me and,” Williams gasped as he felt a hand cup the front of his pants. “Evidently aroused as well. It's been a while, hasn't it?”


“Shut up.” Williams said, trying to keep himself calm. “I thought angels didn't do this kind of thing.”


“I am not your typical, angel, my dear Williams.” Islington said, turning Williams onto his back. He ran a long slender finger down his jacket. Suddenly, Williams felt his arms loosen from their hold. Islington pulled away the jacket and flung it into a corner of the room. Williams was free! He sat up but Islington stopped him.


“What is the rush, my love?”


“You...your freed me.”


“I did. For the time being, yes.”


“I don't understand. I thought...”


Williams heard Islington chuckle. “My dear doctor, if I kept you like this during our little liaison, it would be very uncomfortable for you. I am going to release you, soon. But not now.”


Williams sagged in the angel's arms.


“Do not waver, my love. Come, let's enjoy ourselves.”


Williams felt Islington move and press his soft lips against his own. Williams moaned and wrapped his arms around the angel's shoulders, his fingers brushing against the feathers of Islington's wings. Islington moaned and pulled Williams close to him. The psychiatrist sat perfectly in the angel's lap. Islington moved his lips away from Williams and trailed them down Williams' jawline. The former psychiatrist let out a shuddering gasp, feeling the angel's lips press and teeth nibble his skin. His hips, moving on their own accord, began to grind into Islington's. He felt the angel's hot breath against his skin, creating goosebumps. Williams slid his hands up and curled his fingers into the dark brown locks. He pulled Islington closer to his neck. The angel took the hint and bit the hollow of his throat. Williams cried out and hummed his approval. The psychiatrist felt Islington pull at the jacket, freeing Williams' arms completely and threw the jacket into a corner. Islington then moved away from Williams' neck and took hold of the human's mouth again. As their lips danced, Williams took hold of Islington's jacket, unzipped it and pulled it away. The scarf and grey shirt followed suit, leaving the angel in only his sweat pants.


Islington drew from the kiss and set to work on Williams' shirt and pants. Soon, the former psychiatrist lay on his prison bed, staring up at the angel who loomed over him, his dark wings flexed out to their fullest. He looked truly angelic. A being to be desired. And yet he'd chosen Williams, a simple psychiatrist who'd had been tormented for months, years by a man who was crazy. Was Islington crazy for falling for him? A simpleton?


“My dear Williams, you are anything but a simpleton.”


Williams flinched. Islington had read his thoughts. “How...why do you love me? Why did you choose me?”


“Because it was foretold, my dear doctor. That we would be together for many years. I will look after you and I am sure you will look after me. I know you have answers. But right, now,” and Islington pulled his pants away, showing off his splendid manhood. Williams suddenly felt his mouth water. “I want nothing more than to show you how much I love you.”


Williams smiled in the moonlight and pulled the angel down into a kiss. Islington kissed back with full force, tasting his lover again and again as though afraid he would forget Williams' taste. Hands roamed over bare skin as Williams' hands slid down and cupped the angel's arse cheeks. The angel moaned against his lips. He broke the kiss and peered down at the wanton doctor beneath him. He crawled down Williams' body and rested until he was level with Williams' crotch. He leaned in and drew a long lick along Williams' semi-hard erection. Williams let out a shuddering gasp and looked down to see Islington drawing long slow licks along his cock. He could feel himself hardening with each lick. The angel then took him in his hand and gave him a good squeeze.


“Ah!” Williams whimpered. Islington chuckled and circled his tongue around the cock head and wiggled in the slit, making pre-cum ooze itself on to the angel's tongue. “Is...Islington. Please stop teasing.”


“Hush, my darling doctor. The fun has just begun. It's not over yet.”


Williams watched Islington outline in the moonlight move back down again and let cried out into the pillow as Islington took him into his mouth. Cheeks hollowed and lips and teeth trailed gently up and down his hard cock as Islington suckled on his dick trying to sip up every drop of pre-cum Williams had. Williams could feel himself on the brink of cumming. But he didn't want to cum...yet...not like this.




He felt the angel draw back slightly. “My love? I'm not hurting you.”


“No, no, you're fine. But I don't want to cum yet. Not like this. I want to cum with you inside me.”


“As you wish.” Islington said, with a hint of a smile in his tone.


Williams felt Islington move again between his legs and felt his legs part further away and then his arse cheeks. Suddenly, he became a little uncomfortable as he felt something wet and odd poke around his hole. “Islington, what--?”


“I must prepare you darling. Otherwise this will hurt. And with this being your first time, I must make sure its comfortable for you.”


Williams was quiet for moment before replying. “Okay, go ahead.” Islington moved back down and licked at the puckered hole causing Williams to moan and whimper and babble incoherently into his pillow. Islington soon had Williams' wide enough to slip a finger in and that's what he did. Williams gasped again for the hundredth time that night and looked to see Islington loom over him again as he moved another of his slender fingers in and out of Williams' hole. Islington leaned down and nuzzled the doctor's cheek like an affectionate cat. Williams would have reacted from this but he was too busy losing his mind over the angel's fingers.


“Are you loving this?”


Williams didn't know if he could reply so he let out a string of useless words which made Islington chuckle in the darkness. Islington continued to work his magic on Williams, scissoring him, spreading him open to make himself fit perfectly inside. Once Williams was ready, Islington positioned his weeping erection to Williams' entrance and slipped slowly inside. Williams' eyes widened and his mouth fell open as he felt the unusual feeling he'd never experienced until now and soon felt himself relaxing to it. Williams felt the angel lowering himself so that Williams could reach him better. Islington pressed a kiss to Williams' forehead but didn't move.


“How is it? You're not hurt, are you?”


“N-no. It's just this...this...”


“Oh...I see. Well, I'll go slowly for you. Let you adjust to this new feeling.”


Williams nodded in reply forgetting Islington could see him but Islington sensed his answer. His doctor wanted this! After a minute or two, Islington's hips began to move slowly so that Williams could get use to the feel. Williams liked it and stroked one of his hands along Islington's dark wings to encourage the angel. A sultry moan escaped Islington's lips again so, Williams did it again. The psychiatrist smiled and continued to make longer strokes along the blackened feathers. The moans Islington was issuing was sending the blood straight to the doctor's groin. He could feel the pre-cum ooze itself on his stomach. Islington's hips then began to move a little quicker and Williams could feel the hard organ inside of him slid along his walls stretching him a little more. Williams let out a series of whimpers and guttural groans which rang in the angel's ears.


“Williams...” Islington groaned.


“Is...IslingTON! Oh! Ah! Gods above.”


Islington chuckled and then his pace quickened and he angled his hips and suddenly when he thrusted--


“Ah! What...what the fuck-ah-was that?”


“I think I just hit your prostate. That little part of you will drive you mad with desire as I continue to reach for it.”


“Fuck that felt good. Can you do it again?”


“As you wish, my love.”




Williams woke up to find himself all alone again. He shifted and felt the heavy weight of the straight jacket on him. Williams sighed. He looked round to see any sign of Islington but there wasn't. The angel was nowhere. There wasn't any feathers that gave Williams any indication that he had been there. Williams sat up and winced as the pain shot up his back. Fuck! It had been Williams' first time having sex like that! He'd never thought about performing sex that way than what he used to with his wife. But then again, he'd never thought about ending up in an asylum. If he hadn't he wouldn't have met Islington. Where was that infernal angel?


Williams stooped off his bed and walked over to huddle in a corner. He felt the evidence there, sliding a little down his leg. Williams couldn't help but smile a little. Not many people could say they'd been marked by an angel or had sex with one. He supposed if he boasted about it he would be in here for longer. Williams didn't know how long he'd sat in his corner when he heard footsteps coming down the corridor. Williams then perked up as he heard the footsteps stop at his door, then came the sound of keys and the lock clicking open and Williams' eyes widened as the door opened.


It...was open.


A dark skinned man whom he recognised to be the warden of the asylum stood in the doorway and smiled sadly at Williams. “Doctor Williams?”


“Y-yes. I am. I am Doctor Williams.” Williams' heart raced. Someone recognised him! Someone recognised him! Oh, sweet joy!


The man, Governor Bentley smiled. “Yes. I am here to inform you that there has been a grave mistake.”


Williams' heart slowed its quick pace. “M-mistake?”


“Yes, we were fooled by Voorman into thinking you were Voorman. Some how files were corrupted and switched and now, we are on the hunt for the real Voorman.”


Williams sagged against the wall. He'd never felt so alive. So...


“I'll get you some proper clothes and some papers to sign as you talk with your lawyer.”


Williams looked to the Governor. “Lawyer?”


“Yes. You may come in now, sir. I'll leave you to it.”


The governor stepped back and moved off as another man took his place. Williams' eyes widened. The man, his 'lawyer', stood there in the doorway wearing a dark grey suit with a crisp shirt. He was tall, taller than Williams. His skin was pale and looked delicately soft. He had wavy dark brown hair and sky blue eyes. Islington.


“Williams, come out from that corner, you're coming home...with me.”


As thought his body was moving of his own accord or possibly under the spell of Islington's words, Williams got to his feet as best he could and moved towards the angel. His wings were no longer on his back but he was sure Islington would summon them so that they could fly out of here.


“Is...Islington.” he sighed.


“My dear doctor.” the angel breathed, sweetly. Williams collapsed into the angel's arms. He felt Islington wrap his arms around Williams. “It's all right. I told you would be free.”


“You did. Oh, you did.” Williams cried. Islington reach up and brushed the tears away that were starting to creep out of his eyes. “ did you manage it?”


“Simple, but we cannot talk about it now. Right now, we need you out of here and then I can take you home.”




“Come, my love.”


After arriving at the foyer of the asylum, Williams and Islington signed papers to release the psychiatrist. Bentley gave Williams a flurry of apologies and a firm confirmation that they would search for Voorman. Williams slightly confused by this thanked Bentley and stepped outside with Islington at his side. Williams let out a whimper as he felt cool air on his face, the sun light prickling his eye sight. The outside world was his again. Islington wrapped an arm around Williams' shoulders and smiled down at him.


“How are you feeling?”


“As free as a bird!” The two laughed at the little joke. Williams sighed. “It feels good. Really good.”


“I'm pleased. Ah,” the angel said, looking down the road as a black jaguar car came towards them. “Here is our ride.”


“That's our ride?” Williams asked.


The car pulled up to the kirb and out came a man who was tall with greying hair and light green eyes and reminded Williams of a fox.


“Sir, glad to hear that your mission was a success.” the man smiled.


“Thank you, Mr. Croup. Please tell Vandemar to take us back home. Any luck with finding 'him'?”


“Not yet, sir, but we do have a lead.” the smile turned into a grin. Williams felt unnerved.


“Excellent. You both shall be rewarded for this. Williams, my dear, get inside and you can sleep properly when we get home.”


“Thank you.” Williams said, letting the angel push him gently over to the back seats of the car. He sighed as he felt the plush leather seats and then felt Islington slide in next to him. The psychiatrist leaned his head against the angel's shoulder. He couldn't wait to be in a room that was no longer confined. He wanted a comfy bed, comfy clothes, a comfy seat...and he had that because of Islington. Williams sat his head up and looked to the angel.


“What did you mean, you had business to take care of?” he asked. “Was it it to do with Voorman?”


“It was, indeed.” Islington replied. “Even though Voorman gave me the opportunity to have a second chance and thought you as the best candidate, I had a feeling that something was wrong. So, I had Croup and Vandemar search for him. I had to get you out of harms way and get him back in the asylum. He may have done that because he saw potential in me and wanted me to help you, but as I said there was something wrong. When I find out what...he'll suffer.”


“Islington, you don't have to do that.” Williams chaste. “Please...just let him go back into the asylum and be there for always. I'm safe now and I want you to be as well.”


The angel looked at smaller man before smiling serenely. “All dear Williams. It won't be long until you're safely home with me.”


Williams smiled and kissed the angel on the lips.


Chapter Text

Burn – Ellie Goulding:


Cause we got that fire fire fire

Yeah, we got that fire fire fire

and we're gonna let it burn burn burn

we gonna let it burn burn burn




The kingdom of Erebor had fallen years ago after an uprising by the dwarren people on the royal family and were driven out by their own people. The dwarves were soon at peace but they were in need of a new leader. A few years later, a race of dragons passed by and were welcomed gratefully by the people of Erebor. After meetings with the council, they were then decreed that they were the new rulers. Soon King Glaurung with his sons, Smaug, Ancalagon and Scatha, decreed that anyone was welcome into their homeland. So, that's what happened, more dwarves, men, elves and Hobbits and such came to Erebor to live, peacefully. But then King Glaurung came down with a rare illness and healers said that it was impossible for the king to recover. A week after the king died, he left word to his family, his court and his people that Smaug was next to rule. Smaug became a good ruler but sometimes he was hot tempered, yet he knew what was wrong or right. Sometimes his brothers were there to give him a clear head and ease him of duties if they were too much. The people loved their new king as much as their previous king.


News from the Shire told the people of Erebor that the royal family was to be visiting Erebor and plans were, apparently, made for the king to meet the prince for the first time. The people hoped that their king would see the prince as a potential mate and a good husband to rule by his side. Smaug was happy that the king of the Shire would be visiting and also eager to meet the king's children. And so, preparations were made for the day that the Shire people would arrive. The servants hurried to the markets to the stalls that sold that finest table cloths. The dragons of Erebor were called upon to hunt for food for the banquets. The palace walls, floors, pillars and ceilings were scrubbed down and dusted. The lanterns and chandeliers were polished to a gleam. Even rugs and tapestries were either put out or repaired. Erebor looked to be brand new.


King Smaug had dressed in his red robes with golden and orange intricate patterns on it. He wore the golden crown that he had belonged to his father. The old crown that the old dwarren king had worn had been melted down and thrown into an unknown part of the mountain. Smaug was now in his chambers, pulled on his fur coat over his day clothing. A part of him was wishing that he could be outside in his true form, soaring through the skies. But he couldn't with this visit from the Shire kingdom, he would just have to wait for the time being. With allowing fellow Hobbits into his kingdom, Smaug and the King, Bungo, were firm friends and close allies they were allowed to see their former king after being bullied and dragged far from their homes by the power hungry king and his family and a pack of Orcs. Smaug wondered what the prince would be like. He wondered if the king's daughter, Primula, would be joining them too. Before now, Bungo found that his children were too young to visit Erebor so it was only Bungo and Belladonna that would visit but now it seemed the royal family's children were old enough. The dragon king found that meeting the Shire's royal children would be fun to meet as it would be different company from what he usually had. Smaug smiled at the thought.


The doors opened and his two brothers entered.


“The Shire's royal family is nearly here.” said Scatha.


“Good,” said Ancalagon, flicking back his long braided blonde hair from his shoulder. “We'll be able to get this visit over and done with. I hate social meetings. It's very tedious.”


“It's only for two weeks.” snarled Smaug, not liking his brother's attitude.


Ancalagon rolled his silver white eyes. “We may as well get this over with.”


The three brothers walked out of Smaug's chambers and down the corridors towards the main hall. Servants bowed as they passed and carried on with their duties as they left. A large crowd of Smaug's court stood in entrance hall, all bowing at his presence. Smaug bid them all to stand straight and he headed out with his brothers and his council into the courtyard. In the distance, Smaug could see a wooden carriage, draped in fauna and pulled by four ponies. A dozen or more pony riders followed behind.


“On time.” muttered Scatha.


Smaug and the others patiently waited for the Shire party to arrive. When they did, Smaug looked to his council and called forth his dwarven advisor, Balin. Balin came forward and they both walked over to the carriage as it halted. One of the footman stepped down and opened the carriage door. Out stepped a plump hobbit with dark hair and eyes. He wore green robes with golden lining on the sleeves and hem. He wore a crown of green and silver in his locks of black. The Hobbit smiled when he saw the Erebor king.


“King Smaug.” he said, holding out his arms. “It's good to see you.”


Smaug smiled. It was genuine. “Bungo. It's been a while.”


“It certainly has.” Bungo smiled. “Oh, my apologies. This is my son, Bilbo.”


Smaug looked towards the carriage as a figure stepped out...and felt his heart leap into his throat. Out of the carriage stepped the most gorgeous creature Smaug had ever seen. The Hobbit king's son came up to his father's shoulder. He had wild autumn brown hair and blue-green eyes. He wore silver and gold robes with a small silver crown resting in his brown curls. Smaug moved forward to meet the prince. He held out a long taloned hand to the Hobbit.


“My dear Prince Bilbo.” Smaug purred. “It is such an honour to finally meet you.”


The prince smiled. “The honour is mine, Your Majesty.” and he took Smaug's hand of which Smaug planted a kiss on, tasting and feeling the young Hobbit's skin. It was soft and smooth, not a thing to ruin it.


“I'm sure it will be. Please call me Smaug.”


Bilbo's eyes widened. “Oh, I don't think I could do that.”


“I insist.” Bilbo smiled and nodded his answer. Reluctantly, Smaug let go of the prince's hand and turned back to the Shire's king. “I trust you had a safe journey.”


“We did, thank you.” said Bungo. “I'm sorry that Belladonna is not here.”


“Oh, I hope she is well.”


“She would have come but our daughter is ready to give birth any day, now. But she sends her greetings.”


“Well, I hope she'll be blessed with a beautiful child. Oh, Bungo, you remember Balin, my advisor?”


“Of course, my, my, my Balin. You've gotten whiter since my last visit.”


“Old age has crept on me fast, Your Majesty.” Balin said. Bungo chuckled.


“This is my son, Bilbo. Bilbo meet Balin.”


“If you are ever in need of anything,” explained Smaug. “Balin will help you.”


“Much appreciated.” said Bilbo as Balin bowed to the Hobbit prince.


“Shall we? Dinner will be ready in a few hours.” Smaug held out his arm to Bilbo, who took it has best he could, and the four walked from the courtyard and inside the palace. The dragon king watched as Bilbo stared in awe at the splendour of the underground city of Erebor. The king knew that Bilbo would settle in perfectly.


“Our servants will help with your luggage and escort you both to your quarters.”


“Thank you very much.” said Bungo.


Smaug turned to the prince. “I trust you would like a tour of the palace, after a good rest?”


“I would love to see the palace. Thank you. Tomorrow sounds good.” Bilbo smiled.


“I look forward to it.”




Unfortunately, the private tour of Erebor for the Hobbit prince wasn't handed to Smaug as he would have liked. An important meeting came up the next day, so an irritable Smaug sent Balin to give Bilbo the tour he'd wanted. Smaug strode his way to the meeting hall, an aura of annoyance and anger seeped off him. His servants seemed to sense his anger as they back away nervously but bowed nonetheless. How dare his council and his brothers drag him away from his personal audience with the Hobbit prince! Smaug reached the room and slammed the doors open. Everyone inside jumped at the noise and looked around at their king as he stormed into the room. With one snort of his dragon fire, he would have gladly smouldered this dratted council, but not his brothers.


“What could possibly,” the king snarled. “be so important that you all had to drag me away from a personal audience with the Prince of the Shire?!”


Scatha looked to his older brother. His jet black eyes scolding him. “Brother of mine, we have a situation on our hands as well as news about the old royal family of Erebor.”


“What about them? And what is this situation?”


“The old king, Thrain, has died.” said a dwarf named Dwalin. “Apparently, his heart gave out.”


Smaug blinked at the dwarf's words. “And what would you like me to do about it?”


“Your Majesty?”


“Do you dwarves remember the harsh reign you went through when he was king and when his son took over? Do you remember the day when you all had enough and opposed him? Wasn't you, Dwalin, that tore the crown from Thror's head and threw him out? Why should I be concerned with someone who has treated his people brutally? I have no patience for people who abuse others. My father didn't. And neither did our mother! For all I care, he can rot.”


“I would think twice before listening to what else we've discovered.” said Ancalagon.


“And that is?”


“Thror's son, Thorin, is on the move. He's been spotted in the lands of the West.”


“Where in the West?”


“The Blue Mountains.”


“That close to the Shire?”




“Tell Bungo. He must quickly send word for the Shire to be defended. His daughter is about to give birth and she will be in a vulnerable state and Belladonna and her son in law will be supporting her.”


“Yes, Your Majesty.” said a dwarf named Ori and he hurried out the room.


“What of the prince, my lord?” asked Bofur.


“He will need to know.” Smaug said mournfully. “He has a right to know. He must be comforted with the fact that his sister, brother in law and mother will be safe and well protected. Patrol guards at every station possible, even at the borders. Oakenshield must not get inside Erebor nor the Shire at all costs.”




The threat of Thorin Oakenshield appearing in his and his family's exile loomed over the heads of the people of Erebor for a while. Smaug tried to not dwell on it too much but feared for what Bungo and Bilbo were feeling, knowing that danger lurked near their kingdom. But Bilbo had made a good point when Smaug had told them of the news – what if Thorin just passed through? What if he didn't know of the Shire's close relationship with Erebor? But Bungo had said that news travels fast and the news would have reached them by people who were followers of King Thrain. But the danger soon passed as Smaug hosted a grand ball for Shire guests, to help take their mind off things and for Smaug to get to know Bilbo more. The banqueting hall was different compared to the vast halls of Erebor. The room was large and its walls decorated with a golden colour with drapes on the walls of a darker shade. Paintings hung on the walls, of the royal dragon family and famous quests hold out over centuries and tales of the old gods.


Bilbo had claimed that this was his favourite room in all of Erebor. When dinner was announced, Smaug took his court and his guests inside. Bilbo and Bungo sat at his sides, his brothers beside the two Hobbits.


“So, Bilbo, did you enjoy your tour of Erebor?” the dragon asked.


“I did. It was a shame you had to be called to a meeting.”


“Yes it was. I'm sure with your father's permission I can make it up to you.”


“I see no harm in that.” Bungo chuckled.


The King smiled, sending his smile directly to the Hobbit prince. He could see out of the corner of his eye, Ancalagon stick out his tongue as repulsed by the scene before him and he sent a harsh glare to his younger brother. Bilbo seemed to have noticed the tension and quickly changed the topic.


“Impressive rings, Your Majesty. I've never seen my father or mother wear as many.”


Smaug chuckled. “Most of these rings are from different members of the family. This ring here is our father's.” He slipped a ruby red stone, gold banded ring off his finger and held it for Bilbo to take. The prince took it gingerly. His fingers brushed against Smaug's as he took the ring. Smaug wished to take his hand again and cradle it to his face through out the meal. “Every king has worn it and it is handed to their descendants when they are given the throne.”


“Family heirloom?”




“It's beautiful.”


“It's priceless.” Ancalagon cut in, before taking a sip from his goblet.


“Brother.” Scatha scolded.


Bilbo handed back the ring but Smaug took the ring and placed it on one of Bilbo's fingers. The ring was a little loose but Smaug thought it suited well on the Hobbit's finger.


“A perfect fit.” Smaug purred.


The prince's cheeks went scarlet at this. Smaug noticed his brother's shocked gazes at the sight of the ring on Bilbo's finger. Bilbo felt embarrassed. He took the ring off and placed it back in Smaug's hand. Smaug shot a look to his brothers and they back off with smug looks on their faces. Smaug glanced back over to the prince who was watching him, curiously. Smaug smiled at him and took a sip of his drink.




Bilbo was now back in one of the guest rooms of the Erebor palace. He was awake in the dark and thinking about the last few days. He already loved being in Erebor. It was a lovely city and the palace was remarkable. The people were friendly. It was amazing how a king was so understanding and allowed others to join the kingdom. Bilbo sighed happily at the thought of the Erebor king. Smaug seemed to be a good king. His people seemed to love him. He remembered the conversation he had with Balin about the history of Erebor. How of when Smaug's father had been king and Smaug and his brothers – still prince's – did the best they could to help their people. Bilbo certainly enjoyed being the presence of Smaug and getting to know him. But what happened at dinner was what swirled in Bilbo's head as he had walked back to his room. Touching Smaug's hand and sent sparks inside him and filled Bilbo with want to touch the king's hand again, to hold it in his own. The king had complimented that his family heirloom had suited him. He hoped that tomorrow he would be able to spend more time with dragon king. He wondered what the king would be thinking about right now, or dreaming now. The Hobbit prince only hoped it would be himself.


Suddenly, Bilbo felt a stirring in his navel. He looked under the covers and noticed that something was waking up. He'd read about this kind of thing in the books of the palace room back in the Shire. The books had been hidden of course and looked as though they had not been read in years, judging by the amount of dust and spider's webbing on them. Of course, his family didn't know anything about them as they were all in his room, safely put away that even the servants didn't know! Bilbo took a deep breath and reached under the covers. He reached between his legs and grabbed at his semi-hard cock. He stroked a hand slowly up and down, teasing himself. He thought about the dragon king. Crawling towards him in the dark, the only light being in his golden yellow eyes. Bilbo imagined the king reaching his bed and moving up towards him. Kissing his lips, hotly, warming Bilbo's entire body. Moaning his name as he did tricks on the prince's body that made his body and melt under his touch. The king allowing the Hobbit to pleasure him, performing things he'd read about in the books he'd borrowed. Having the king cry out under his touch, making him roar like the dragon he was. And then having the king take him as his mate, his lover.


Bilbo turned his head and moaned into his pillow he quickened his pace as came into his hand. He panted, turning his head to the ceiling and sagged against the bed. He hoped the king was thinking of him. If he knew where to go, he would have been in mind to sneak into Smaug's room and...


Bilbo shook his head. He was being ridiculous! Bilbo wiped the remnants of his ministrations on his stomach, curled himself into a ball and tried his best to sleep.


It was dawn when the doors to Bilbo's room opened and a voice called out.


“Bilbo! Bilbo, wake up!”


Bilbo jerked in his sleep. He opened his eyes and saw his father hurrying into the room, holding a scroll in his hand. “Father?” he asked, groggily. “What is it?”


“Your mother wrote. Read this letter.”


Bilbo sat up and took the letter. It was his mother's handwriting.


Dear my dearest husband and and son,


Good news today but by the time you get this it will be tomorrow. So, I am very proud to say that you are grandfather and an uncle. Dearest Primula has given birth to a beautiful and healthy baby boy. Drogo is immensely proud of her. They have named him Frodo. He was quite a squealer when he came into the world but was happy to see his mother and father and is now fast asleep. Little Samwise the gardener has even given him his first bouquet of flowers of a welcoming present. He was very sweet. Hamfast is cooking up a small banquet for us to celebrate but the real celebration will held when you both return. Primula sends her very best to you and we all hope that relations with the kingdom of Erebor is going well and the king is treating you well. I hope you, Bilbo, are enjoying your first visit to Erebor, as we were sure you would and that you are pleasant with the king.


Bilbo blushed at the mention of Smaug and the memories of last night crept back into his mind.


I'll let you know more on how the baby is doing before your return to the Shire if not sooner. Please write back if possible and send Smaug and his brothers our best wishes.


With love, Belladonna xxx


Tears came to Bilbo's eyes. So, he was an uncle. He had a nephew. He hoped his sister was okay and that he could see the child soon. He looked to his father. “Good news all round!” he chuckled.


“Definitely.” the king chuckled.


“You will write to mother, won't you?”


“I will. Please, get dressed, head down to breakfast and tell everyone the good news. I'm sure King Smaug and his brothers would love to hear of this.”


Bilbo nodded and did as he was told. After washing his body and ridding himself of evidence of last night's escapade, he dressed in autumn brown robes and placed his crown on his head, Bilbo hurried out of his room and towards the hall where breakfast was being held. He slowed a little at the door and entered the room, respectively. Smaug was the only one at the breakfast table with Balin. A few servants stood at the sides of the room, silently and trying hard to be invisible. The king and dwarren advisor were talking in hushed tones but at the sight of Bilbo, they stopped. The dragon king smiled at the prince.


“Good morrow to you Bilbo. You look very chipper this morning.”


“I have received news, Your Majesty.” said Bilbo moving nearer to where Smaug and Balin sat and sat down on Smaug's left.




“My sister, Primula, she gave birth last night to a baby boy.”


“Oh, Bilbo.”


“Congratulations, Your Highness.” smiled Balin. “You'll be an uncle.”


“Indeed I am.” Bilbo said with a smile.


“I hope both mother and son are healthy and my congratulations to you all. I trust...” and the dragon king sounded a little off like he was disappointed. “You both will be returning to the Shire to see the little one.”


“I..I don't know, my lord. There was never any word of us returning after such short notice. But father is writing back to them as we speak.”


The saddened look on Smaug's face changed quickly to a happier one. Bilbo smiled back. Balin excused himself, leaving Bilbo and Smaug alone. A servant came forward and placed a plate down in front of him.


“So,” Smaug said, making the young Hobbit look at him. “I...I hope that you – and your father, of course – stay a little longer, despite the news.”


The prince smiled. “I'm pretty sure we won't be leaving now, my lord. I think my mother was still expecting us to be enjoying our visit and I am hoping to get to know you king.”


A smug smile came up on Smaug's lips. “First 'my lord', now 'my king'?”


“You don't like it?”


“I adore it. I don't like it when other people say it, but you...I think I'll make an exception.”


Bilbo chuckled. “Thank you, my lord.” Before Bilbo could take hold of his cutlery to eat, his hand was taken by Smaug. A thumb brushed against the back of Bilbo's hand. “My lord?”


“ dearest Bilbo are the most beautiful creature I've ever seen.”


Bilbo felt his cheeks go warm. “I...I...thank you.”


Smaug smiled. He looked to his servants with a small glare. “Leave us.” he growled. They didn't need to be told twice! They left without hesitation and soon the two were alone. Smaug let go of Bilbo's hand and leaned back in his chair. “Come, sit in my lap, my little one.”


Bilbo's eyes widened. “Wha...I...sorry?”


“Come sit, my prince. I do not mind.”


Bilbo was still unsure but the expression on Smaug's face told him 'do it anyway'. So, he pushed back his chair, got up and came to Smaug's side. Slowly, he sat down and was pulled closer to the king's body.


“There. That wasn't so bad, was it?”


“N-no.” Bilbo stuttered. He felt Samug's arms come around him and he relaxed. Smaug's body was warm like a cosy fire. He liked this. He wondered how many people had managed to sit in Smaug's lap. Was he the only one? Something moved around his ankle and he started. He looked down to find Smaug's tail end wrapping itself around his ankle.


“It's just me, little one.” Smaug purred in his ear. “No need to be frightened.”


“Sorry, you just startled me.”


Smaug chuckled and pulled Bilbo closer making the Hobbit snuggle into him. Smaug's wings flexed and moved round to hide them from view. “Walls have ears, don't you know?”


“I've heard that.” Bilbo muttered into Smaug's lapel.


A hand came up and brush gently at the Hobbit's hair. “You have lovely hair, my dear Bilbo.”


“Thank you, my lord. I highly doubt though its as beautiful as yours.”


“These old curls, nonsense.”


“I think they suit you well.” Bilbo said, looking up into the dragon king's eyes. Smaug smiled down at the Hobbit, before pressing a kiss to Bilbo's forehead. A soft gasp left Bilbo's lips. He could feel his skin begin to tingle from where Smaug has kissed him. He rest his head back on the king's chest, feeling content in the king's arms.


“We must hold a little celebration for your family.” Smaug said after a while.


“You don't have to do that, my lord.”


“Nonsense. We must. If you are not there to celebrate your nephew coming into the world, then we will help you in anyway possible. You can tell the whole city if you wish. If not then we can hold a small celebration with just you, myself, your father and a few members of council and my brothers.”


“It's better to ask my father that, my lord.”


“And what do you think, my little Hobbit?”


“Well, it would be lovely.”


“Then we will. I will ask Balin to set preparations immediately.”




A week later, Bilbo was hoping that his stay in Erebor would last longer as he wished to spend more time with the king. True, he'd spent breakfast, lunch, dinner with him, celebrated his nephew coming into the world. But there was also his studies that his father had pulled him into. Which meant that Bilbo would see less of his dear king. One day, Smaug had just finished a meeting with the people of Dale and now he wanted to relax. He wanted to invite Bilbo to spend time with him in his chambers. But the problem was he couldn't find his little Hobbit anywhere. He looked for him and proceed to find his chambers. However, he met Balin half way and was told by the old dwarf that Bilbo was in the middle of his studies. Smaug felt himself sag at the news and went into his own chambers to sulk. He didn't want to talk to anyone until Bilbo was finished with studies, which was likely to finish Valar knows when! The Hobbit intrigued the king. He seemed adventurous, seemed to want more than living a life of being a prince. He wondered what the Hobbit was like as a child. Was he quiet? Obeying his parents' wishes like a good boy? Had he been mischievous? Had he secretly longed for a life outside of royalty? Smaug had wanted that. He had longed to be free. But when given the throne by his father, he decided that he would use his role to help others and end the painful memories of Thrain's ruling.


He wondered if Bilbo would make a good husband. What would he be like to rule a kingdom? His father was preparing him for when the day came. The dragon king smiled at the thought of the little Hobbit becoming his husband. Being married to Bilbo would make the dragon king very happy. With Bilbo at his side, he would show the Hobbit his love for him every...


Smaug stopped and thought about the last thing. Did he love Bilbo? During the week he'd only known him for? Goodness! He wondered how many of courtiers, his council had noticed the subtly of how he treated the Shire prince with such compassion. He wasn't doing it because Bungo was an old friend of Erebor but because he liked Bilbo. He'd been attracted to the Hobbit since first meeting him!


Oh, Valar...


“I'm in love with a Hobbit.” the king sighed, happily.






“Can we not stay longer, father?” Bilbo asked as his father stared out at the window at the indoor city of Erebor.


“I wish we could, my son. But the Shire needs us as Erebor needs Smaug as their ruler. You know that.”


Bilbo sighed. “I suppose so.”


Bungo turned to look at his son. “You like being here, don't you, my boy?”


“I love it here but I also love being in the Shire, too. I'm just...”


“Bilbo, I understand. I see the king has taken a shine to you.”


Bilbo's cheeks went hot at the mention of Smaug. He felt his heartbeat quicken a little. “I...well...”


“And you to him?”


“I think so.”


“Think or know so? Now, I know why you want to stay longer.”


Bilbo bit his lip. “Is it that obvious?”


Bungo chuckled. “I know what it's like to have a thing for someone. It's what I felt to your mother when I met her.”


“You did?”


“Of course. I'm sure you and the king will make a fine pair.”


Bilbo pursed his lips and hoped that his father was correct.




Later on at night, Smaug and his court finished their dinner and headed into the grand hall for dancing. Smaug was sitting on the throne with Bungo, Bilbo and his brothers at his side, watching the others dance. The dragon king and the Hobbit prince couldn't help but cast glances at one another. Smiles. After three dances, Smaug got to his feet and held out his hand to the Hobbit. Bilbo stared at it a moment, before grinning and taking the hand in his. The two then walked their way to the dance floor and joined in with the dancing. Smaug was impressed that Bilbo was a good dancer. He managed to keep up with Smaug, in spite of their height differences. After several dances, Bilbo grew tired and Smaug lead them both to were a small table of food and drink lay.


“Grow tired already, my lord?” Bilbo teased.


“Nonsense. Just been a while since I've danced.”


“You must live a life of boredom, Your Majesty.”


“I did. Until now, my dear prince.”


“You flatter me, my lord.”


“I speak the truth, my little one.” Smaug said, tucking a lock of hair behind Bilbo's ear. “I was always bored! But now, it's all changed...I feel alive with you.”


Bilbo looked up with innocent eyes at his king but Smaug knew that there was something else going on in the prince's eyes. He knew there was. Bilbo took a sip from his goblet and set it on a table. He took the ring clad hand of Smaug and led the king out of the grand hall. Once they were in the corridor, Bilbo turned to look at his king again.


“My lord, does this place hold any secret passageways?”


“It does.” Smaug said with a smile.


“Will you show me?”


Smaug took the prince's hand and led him up the corridor, away from the court and the servants. They reached a green marble statue of a dragon. Smaug reached out and pulled at the concealed lever that held a lit torch. There a sound of movement and a section of the wall moved in revealing a dark tunnel. The Hobbit prince gasped in wonderment. Smaug took down a spare torch and led Bilbo inside. The tunnel door closed behind them. The tunnel now became dimly lit as Smaug positioned the torch on the sconce on the wall, and looked over at Bilbo, who was staring at Smaug. The innocence was gone and replaced with something else. Hunger. Lust. Smaug titled his head and waited for Bilbo to speak.


“You ever been pleasured, my lord?” The Hobbit prince asked.


Smaug felt his demeanour change at Bilbo's words. He blinked a few times. “I'm sorry?”


The Hobbit moved closer. “You ever been pleasured, my lord?”


A smirk came up on Smaug's lips. “My sweet, little Hobbit...I had no idea--.”


“That I wasn't so innocent? Please, my king, my family don't know anything about the books of intercourse that have been laying about the palace library.”


“And why is that?”


“They're all in my room. Hidden.”


“My sweet not so sweet. You're quite a little raver.”


Bilbo smiled. “So, have you?”


“I know of the acts and I have pleasured myself but I've never laid with another.”


“Good. Neither have I. But I'd be more than happy to pleasure you, my lord.”


“Bilbo, you know we cannot have intercourse until one or both of us is married.”


“I know that, my lord. But I was hoping to give you something to look forward to.”


Smaug's grin grew bigger as Bilbo moved closer. Bilbo pulled aside Smaug's robes and pulled at the tassels on the dragon king's trousers. They fell to the floor at Smaug's feet and Smaug's breath hitched as the cold air hit his groin. Bilbo purred at the sight of his cock and took it into his hands. Smaug let out a shaky gasp at the contact.


“Just relax, my king. My dear, beloved dragon.”


A purr left Smaug's lips as he felt Bilbo's hands move into a slow pace. The prince was tantalisingly good. Smaug felt his mind begin to swim. Oh, Valar! The prince's hand twisted gently as it reached Smaug's now swollen head and the other one moved to cup his balls. Smaug sagged a little against the tunnel wall. His wings flexed and his tail wagged like a dog's. Bilbo followed him, still keeping his hands on Smaug's manhood. The Hobbit then began to pick up, gradually getting faster.


“How does it feel?”


Smaug opened his mouth but nothing came out. Bilbo smiled up at him and then knelt down. Smaug's watched with wide eyes as Bilbo took his cock into his mouth. Smaug let out cry of delight and pleasure as the Hobbit suckled at cock head with ease. His tongue poked a little at Smaug's slit and then lapped as Smaug's juices flowed from it. Smaug's nails scraped the wall trying to cling on to something that wasn't Bilbo's soft brown locks. Who knows what he would have done. He did not want to use force on Bilbo. The king felt Bilbo's smile around his hard, weeping cock.


“You' are loving this, aren't you?” Smaug stuttered.


Bilbo pulled back, making Smaug whimper at the loss. “I should be asking you that, my king. Would you like me to take this a stage further?”


“There's a 'further'?”


Bilbo nodded and lifted one of Smaug's legs up at an angle. Smaug watched as Bilbo moved right in between Smaug's legs and the dragon king let out a loud moan as Bilbo's tongue began to sneak it's way in and teased at Smaug's entrance. Smaug couldn't understand it. How was it possible for this beautiful Hobbit who had only read about committing sexual acts to be so good at his first try? How was it even possible? The Hobbit was a natural! Smaug reached down and played with himself mimicking Bilbo's tongue licks with his strokes. The king shifted himself, spreading his legs so that Bilbo could dive deeper. It worked like a charm. Smaug's mouth hung loose as Bilbo's tongue worked him open and his own hand began to quicken.


“Bilbo, please...ha!”


Bilbo pulled away. He looked up at the king as he replaced his tongue with his fingers. “My lord?”


Smaug looked down at his beloved. His vision was a little hazy as his eyes welled up with tears. “Forget waiting until our wedding day. I need you now.”


“I'm sorry, my lord. But we must wait. You may pleasure me as I am to you.”


“I'd be very tempted to do more.”


“Then resist.”


Smaug let go of his hard cock, moving his leg from Bilbo's grip and knelt down in front of his prince and pressed a hard kiss to his lips. He felt Bilbo's arms slide around his shoulders, drawing him further down, pulling them to the floor. He drew back a trailed butterfly kisses along the Hobbit's soft skin. He could hear his prince make noises that went straight to his groin. Smaug nibbled against the skin where the neck and shoulder met. He felt Bilbo's fingers entangle in his blackened curls. His thumbs brushed against the horns on his head.


“Is...hah! Is there somewhere we can go more...comfortable?” the prince breathed.


Smaug stopped what he was doing and looked at his prince. “Bilbo...are you--?”


But Bilbo's nodding stopped him talking. It was definite that Bilbo wanted to be with him, to be his lover. Smaug dove down for another kiss, this time it was more passionate, more heated. He felt Bilbo kissing him back, wanting more. When the kiss broke, Smaug lifted himself from on top of Bilbo, pulled up his trousers and lifted the blushing Hobbit into his arms. Bilbo took hold of the torch and they headed out to the king's chambers.




The next morning, found Bilbo secretly tucked back into his bed. It was gone midnight when Bilbo returned to his chambers, thanks to being under the cover of the darkness. Hobbits were light on their feet and when they undetectable to hear if they didn't want to be heard. A servant took a while to rouse the prince from his sleep. Bilbo apologised profusely at his tardiness and allowed the servant to go as he would wash and clothe himself. The servant left at his wishes. As Bilbo washed himself good, his thoughts of last night seeped into his mind.


Smaug's warm taloned hands, running across his skin, taking in how soft his skin was. His lips brushing against his neck again. His tongue following suit. Clothing being thrown away from their bodies and the bed to...somewhere on the floor. Lips dancing together again. Fingers brushing, gripping...teasing.


Bilbo steadied himself. His body was shaking. Nerves? Couldn't be!


Smaug lowering himself down Bilbo's body and taking him into his mouth. Bilbo had to muffle his cries of pleasure into one of the pillows. After several minutes of this, Smaug leaned up, looming his body over Bilbo's. The Hobbit had caught sight of Smaug's huge manhood and couldn't help but stare.


Will...will it fit?”


Of course, my little one.” Smaug purred. “With the right preparations to your body, you may fit my cock in you. But,” he said, reassuringly. “we'll start this slowly. How ever much you can take, I won't force you to take more than you can handle.”




The dragon purred as he leaned down and planted a kiss to his cheek. “I love you too much that I would never hurt you, Bilbo. I mean this.”


You do?”


I do.” king...I love you, too.”


Happy tears fell from Bilbo's eyes. The king loved him. A simple Hobbit. And he'd told him the same. Bilbo had thought he would wait years and years and years to hear and say those words to someone he loved if they came along. But here he was at twenty-seven, saying 'I love you' to the king of Erebor. If this is what he felt in over a week, what would it be like in the months or years to come.


Bilbo finished cleaning himself and dressed. Today, he was wearing green robes with a dash of yellow. He walked along the halls, greeting the few servants that were around in the morning. Along the way, he bumped into his father.


“Ah, Bilbo. Good morning.”


Bilbo smiled. “Good morning, father.”


“You look happy today.” the Hobbit king said as they walked together side by side.


“Well, I've tried to not let my sorrows about leaving Erebor get the best of me. Besides last night was...amazing!”


“It was. You seemed to have fun dancing with the king. By the way, where did you go? You'd been gone for hours and the king was nowhere in sight.”


Bilbo felt his heart skip a beat. There was no way on Middle Earth he would tell his father exactly what had happened. He probably would have killed him then and there. It was tradition that a coupling waited until they were wed to have sex on the wedding night and not before and Hobbits all stuck with tradition. But Bilbo had never been the type...and Smaug didn't seem to either.


“Well, we just stepped out to get some air. I felt a little stuffy and we then decided to go to our rooms.”


“Fair enough. It won't be long until we go home to Hobbiton. You'll be able to meet your nephew.”


Bilbo smiled. “I suppose I will.”


“I'm sure you'll be able to come back to Erebor soon enough.”




They entered the dining hall to find Smaug pacing back and forward. A few courtiers were sitting at the table, either watching Smaug with apprehension on their faces or talking in hushed tones. When he caught sight them, the dragon rushed over to him.


“Bilbo, Bungo. Good morning.”


“Good-good morning, Smaug. I trust all is well.”


“Very.” and he cast his gaze to Bilbo. “All is well.”


“ lord?” Bilbo stuttered.


“Bungo...there is...there is something I must ask of your son, and you my oldest friend must hear this.”


“Oh,” said Bungo, obviously taken back. “Well then. Ask away.”


Smaug smiled and moved closer to Bilbo...and knelt on one knee.


“Oh...” Was all Bilbo could say as he watched his beloved kneel before him.


“Bilbo, even though we've only known each other in less than a fortnight, I feel like I've known you for years...and quite rightly I want to spend years knowing you. To love you for years. I hope to Valar that you feel the same way, otherwise I'm making a complete fool of myself.”


Bilbo smiled softly and cupped the king's face. “My dear Smaug, I do love you...and you are not a fool.”


“I love you so much, Bilbo, and I want to make you happy...but I cannot do that when you are hundreds of miles away.”


“What do you mean?”


Smaug sighed, smiling up at his beloved prince. “I...want you here, Bilbo.” the dragon king turned to Bungo. “My dearest friend. I do not wish to offend you in any way or think less of you by doing this...but I wish for nothing more than for your son's hand in marriage.”


A hushed whisper and the smallest of gasps rang through the court as they watched the scene. The Shire King looked to Smaug and then to Bilbo who was staring at his father. Finally, a smile came up on the king's face.


“You have my blessing, old friend. Bilbo, you may marry Smaug if you so wish.”


A smile came up on the young prince's face and he looked to the dragon king. “I'd love to.”


Smaug grinned and took the prince into his arms and kissed him. Cheers of joy rang out in the room, following a big round of applause. When the two lovers drew apart, Bilbo threw his arms around Smaug. He turned his head to Smaug's ear and whispered.


“I love you so much, my king.”


“I love you, too, my little prince. Here.” Smaug drew back from the hug and took a ring from the inside of his robes and slipped it on to Bilbo's ring finger. Bilbo stared at the small jewellery. It was a golden band a decorated with three rubies like an odd cluster.


“It's beautiful, Smaug.”


“Just like the Hobbit wearing it.” Smaug cooed and kiss the ring.




But the happiness soon ended when it was the end of Shire king and prince visiting. Bilbo was heartbroken and didn't want to leave his husband-to-be. They stood outside the gates of Erebor. The carriage was waiting to go, packing with the Hobbit prince and king's belongings. Bungo stood before carriage and Smaug's brothers stood by the gates with Balin. They were all watching Smaug and Bilbo in a tight embrace, tears trickling down their cheeks.


“I...I d-don't want to go.” Bilbo squeaked.


Smaug sniffed. “I know you don't, my little one. I want you to stay. But you need to see your family and let them know of your news and how they are. You need to see your nephew--.”


“Our nephew.”


Smaug smiled. “Indeed. And you'll come back so that the wedding will be planned and then your coronation.”


“Then I'm staying.”


“Yes, you will.”


“And you will come to the Shire?”


“I'd love to see it.”


Bilbo drew back from the embrace a little. He kissed Smaug on the lips and rested his head against the dragon's. “I will come back.”


“I highly doubt nothing will stop you, my love. Wear your ring with pride.”


“I plan to. I love you, Smaug.”


“And I you, Bilbo. My sweet little Hobbit.”


Slowly, Bilbo pulled himself away, reluctantly, from his king and moved towards the carriage. He didn't – couldn't – look back. If he did, he'd be running back and staying put. He climbed into the carriage as his father and Smaug said their own farewells. The young Hobbit wiped his tears away and tried his hardest to stop crying more. He couldn't look out the carriage window. He willed himself not to as his father climbed inside the carriage and sat in front of his son. The door closed and soon the carriage moved off. His own eyes betrayed him as they moved to the carriage window and looked out. Thankfully, all he saw was Erebor's lands. The prince rested his head against the carriage unable to take his eyes off the outside world. Suddenly, he saw movement from above. He looked up and saw a large red dragon swooping over head. It flew along side the carriage followed by two other black dragons. The red dragon – a fire drake – let out a loud roar as it's chest began to glow a yellow gold colour and let out a burst of fire.




The dragon roared again before swooping around and landing safely. The two other dragons landed safely on either side of the fire drake. Bilbo leaned a little out of the window and waved out to the dragons in farewell. Besides two weeks would fly by...right?




The two weeks did fly by for Bilbo and Smaug but for the people of the Shire and for Erebor it wasn't quick enough. Once the carriage stopped, Bilbo flew out and hurried to meet his king. Smaug ran to meet him. All dignity forgotten! They'd missed one another and soon they would be together for the rest of their lives.


“You came back.” Smaug whispered as he held the Hobbit close.


“I did. I'm home, Smaug. I'm home.”


“I've missed you so much.”


“I've missed you, too, my king.”


They drew apart and Smaug took hold of the Hobbit's left hand.


“Perfect fit.” he said, smiling down at the ring he proposed with.


“You wouldn't believe how many times I had to show this off. Although I had to make sure it was still on my finger as my cousin, Lobelia, and her husband were around.”




“My...cousins – somehow we're related to them. They try to steal possibly anything in the palace and I had a shrewd feeling she wanted the ring.”


“Surely, you can stop them for entering the palace.”


“Well, Primula said she won't stay anything if they don't stop.”


“I bet she was jealous when she found out you'd been engaged.”


“Her face was a picture.” Bilbo laughed. “Oh, I've brought my sister along with her husband...and our nephew.”


“Little Frodo?” Bilbo nodded. He pulled the king towards the spot where rest of his family were waiting. “Bungo! It's good to see you...and Belladonna, you have not aged a day.”


“Smaug, you flatter me. Careful, my husband and son will get jealous.”


Smaug chuckled pulling Bilbo close to his side, lovingly. “Primula, Drogo, it's a pleasure to meet you both, finally.”


“And you, Smaug.” said Drogo, holding out a hand for him to shake. “We've heard about you from Bungo but a lot from Bilbo.”


“Ah,” said Smaug. “So my ears were burning.”


Bilbo's cheeks were bright red. The dragon king then noticed the small bundle in Primula's arms.


“And could this be little Frodo?”


“Indeed, he is.” said Primula, shifting the tiny infant in her arms. She held him out for him to take. Cautiously, he did. The baby shifted a little in his bundles but settled back down in Smaug's arms.


“Meet your soon-to-be nephew, Smaug.” Bilbo said, looking down at Frodo.


“Yes...our nephew. Come, Erebor is much warmer inside then out here.”




A celebration was held for the return of Bilbo and soon plans of the wedding were going ahead. Bilbo was given the room he'd used during his first visit but soon he knew he wouldn't be needing it, anymore after his wedding day. A week before the wedding however Smaug and some of his fellow dragons were planning to go on a hunt to get meat for the feasts of the wedding and coronation. But Bilbo was most put out when Smaug refused his presence on the hunt.


“Why can't I come?” he protested.


“My darling prince, do you know anything about hunting?”


“No but I can learn.”


Smaug laughed. “Maybe not right now, my darling. I wouldn't want you hurt on first trial run. Stay here. Besides your father says your studies are important and just about finished. So, finish them off in time for our wedding.”


Bilbo was still pouting so Smaug kissed it away and the prince watched from the city gates as the dragon citizens changed into their true forms and lead by Smaug and his brothers, out the door and into the fresh air.


But tragedy struck. As the dragons had been divided into different groups and Smaug's group had taken to the air, a Black Arrow struck the king in the chest, wounding the king. He was in desperate need of healing.....


Bilbo ran as fast as his bare feet would carry him. News had come quick when he'd been studying and he immediately left to see his king. Servants either bowed or shrank away as the small prince hurried through the corridors. He soon reached the chamber door and found a crowd of Smaug's court on the threshold.


“Let me through.” he ordered. At his words, everyone shuffled back, allowing Bilbo to come through. Smaug lay on his massive bed, his shirt and robes were gone and his pantaloons only remained. A bandage was wrapped several times around Smaug's torso. The dragon king was unconscious. Bilbo neared the bed and couldn't help but stare down at his soon-to-be husband.


“Leave us.” he muttered. But when he didn't hear the rush of footsteps, he yelled. “Leave!”


In a minute, the courtiers left. Once Bilbo was alone, he climbed up on the bed and sat beside Smaug. He ran a hand through the soft curls, over his red horns and then brushed against the bandages. A patch of blood lay there, showing clear evidence of where the Black Arrow had struck him. A tear left Bilbo's eye and he cupped the king's cheek.


“My beloved. My betrothed. My darling king. What's to become of us, now?” he whispered. “Please get well again. With all my love, I beseech you to be well again. For us, for me...for your kingdom.”


Bilbo planted a small kiss on Smaug's temple. He hoped upon hope that Smaug would be better. He took hold of Smaug's scaly red, claw tipped hand in his and held it gently in his. The doors to the chamber opened and Bilbo rounded at the intruder but then realised it was his father, Bungo.


“My son. How is he?”


“Hasn't even come round.” Bilbo said, trying to fight back the tears.


His father must have heard the strain in his voice. “My son, you have every right to be upset.”


“I have to be strong for him, father. As he has to, to survive. His kingdom needs him.”


“You need him?”


Bilbo looked to his father and then nodded.


“Understandable, my boy. I...I have news.”


“News? What is it?”


“The dragon guards managed to flourish out the assassin.”


A swell of anger rose in Bilbo's chest at these words. “Who was it?”


“They say it was the former dwarf prince, Thorin Oakenshield.”


“Where is he?”


“In one of the cells. Smaug's brothers are discussing his punishment.”


“I might join them--.”


“You will not!”


Bilbo looked at his father, astonished. “Father?”


“I will see to the matter at hand, Bilbo. You will stay by your husband-to-be's side. Look after him and be there for him when he awakes. I trust he'll be wanting to see your face first when he recovers.”


Bilbo considered his father's words. He had a good point. Smaug would need someone by his side and if it wouldn't be his brothers, it would be him.


“Make sure that dwarf gets what he deserves.”


His father nodded before leaving the room. Once he was gone, Bilbo slipped off the bed and grabbed a fur throw that was draped on a chair across the room. He then placed the fur on the bed, slipped in beside Smaug and pulled the throw over them both. The prince moved his arm over Smaug's waist and snuggled in, trying not to hurt his beloved.


“I'm here for you, Smaug.” the prince whispered. “Please wake up.”




It was a few hours before Smaug woke up. He hissed as the pain from being hit with a Black Arrow. He opened his eyes to find that he was in his chambers. There was movement next to him. He looked down to find his little prince sleeping at his side, his arm around the dragon king. A soft gentle smile came on Smaug's lips. His dear Bilbo was here, looking after him. He reached out and brushed at the prince's soft brown locks with his fingers. How much had his darling Hobbit fussed and had been worried about his state? Smaug shifted himself so that he lay face to face with his betrothed.


“You have no need to fear my little one.” he muttered. “I will be well enough for our wedding day.”


The Hobbit shifted and snuggled to the dragon king. Smaug smiled and kissed the brown locks. The Hobbit sniffed and his eyes fluttered open. Golden eyes met blue. There was a silence before leaped up, throwing his arms around Smaug. The king grunted by the movement but held on to the now sobbing Hobbit.


“My king!”


“Shhh. It's all right now. I'm safe.”


“Don't leave me again.” Bilbo sobbed into his shoulder. Smaug's wings closed around like a cocoon around a caterpillar.


“I promise you I won't.”


Bilbo suddenly gasped and pulled back. “Forgive me, my dragon. I forgot your wound.”


“It's all right. I have suffered worse.” Smaug shifted on the bed so that he sat on the bed with Bilbo in his arms. “Please tell me you haven't fussed.”


Bilbo looked to the king for a few moment before casting his gaze to his lap. “Not entirely.”


Smaug chuckled. “Goodness. You are a terrible liar. I won't have a liar as a husband, my dear Bilbo. You know that. don't have to worry anymore.”


“Thorin Oakenshield was arrested. He was the one who shot that Black Arrow.”


Smaug's face changed. So the dwarf prince had made his way to Erebor, but how on Middle earth did he sneak past his guards? “I'll speak with and my brothers. I will make him suffer.”




The Wedding of King Smaug and Prince Bilbo had arrived. The halls were decorated with green, red and golden silks. The grand hall was filled with people from different lands of Middle Earth and awaited with baited breath for the arrival of Prince Bilbo. King Smaug stood at the altar in his finest golden robes which was different from his usual red. His brothers stood nearby, keeping their eyes on him. Gandalf the White stood in front of Smaug, keeping his eyes on the door at the end of the hall. Belladonna, Primula and Drogo stood on the other side; little Frodo in his mother's arms. Then the doors opened and almost everyone looked round to see Bilbo standing there wearing white robes. His arm was linked in with Bungo's. The two walked down the aisle and soon came to a stop by Smaug, who gazed down at the halfling prince. Soon the ceremony commenced with exchanging of vows, binding of skin and blood – a dragon tradition during a dragon wedding – and then the placement of rings. By the end of the ceremony, Smaug was eager to kiss his mate and husband as much as Bilbo was. Soon the wedding congress moved with the wedded couple in front to the large hall marking that the celebrations to take place within the underground city and palace. A great feast was held and soon by the end of the night, Smaug announced that he and Bilbo would be retiring to their bed chamber. At this Ancalagon called upon the courtiers to carry Bilbo and Smaug to their bed. Laughing and joking, both Erebor kings were lifted up into the air and carried all the way there. At the bed chamber, Smaug was put down by his brothers and Bilbo by some of the courtiers. Smaug led the former prince to his rooms even though there was no need as Bilbo had been there before. Bilbo planted a kiss to his husband's lips and pulled away from prying eyes. Unfortunately, the courtiers felt the need to follow them.


Smaug looked to the courtiers with a glare and they hurried out of the room and out of sight. Smaug rolled his eyes. Peace had died out long ago. The dragon king closed the door to the bed chamber and turned to find Bilbo wearing nothing but his new crown and lying seductively on the bed.


“Will you not come to lord?”