A fic for All Hallows Eve: Ghost tide (SB/VM, R)

[liars-dance.livejournal.com]

Authors: moldava and heathcee
Pairing/rating: SB/VM, R
Disclaimer: All complete fabrication - utter lies and tosh
Summary: Sean & Viggo receive a visit from old friends on Halloween
Feedback: Always appreciated
Archive: Rugbytackling
Notes: This was moldava's idea - from a book that she has (the details of which I promise I'll post when I find them. She's sent me the link twice already and I've lost it twice - spooky). We had a lot of fun with this - our first attempt (but I hope not last) at collaboration.

-- [Ghost Tide] --



Viggo strolls through the brightly lit bookshop, a little smile curling at the corner of his mouth… Sean will scold him if he comes home with more books, but one can never have too many books in his opinion… He browses through the Hallowe'en displays of mysterious stories and the beautiful Renaissance cover of one book catches his eye. He picks it up and reads from a page at random…

"He blinked, startled - he would have sworn there had been a pair of old men, drinking by the fire - and then he recognized at least some few of the faces… old friends and one or two enemies, and even the winter lover he hadn't thought of in at least ten years… all dead. It was just the ghost tide... the liquor smelled of cloves and allspice, and he lifted the glass to the empty room before he drained it."

He grins, setting the book down and moving on… ghost stories… not the kind of stuff he usually goes for.

But later, before leaving the store, he is drawn back to the Hallowe'en display. Something in that book has hooked his curiosity, he wants it. He carefully checks the stacks of books in the display, but there's none with the Renaissance cover he remembers so well and there's no empty space in the display… Viggo shakes his head, confused.

--[*] --

Sean smiles as he stands in the bookstore his eyes scanning the mysteries section, illustrated with images of Halloween. It's late and the store is about to close but he fancies buying Viggo a book for.. for .. well, just being Viggo. He remembers Hallowe'en as a child with some fondness - lanterns made out of turnips - nothing as exotic as pumpkins in Sheffield in the 1960's - bobbing for apples, dressing up, telling tales of witches and warlocks, frightening the neighbours. His reminiscing is interrupted when he catches sight of a beautifully covered book and immediately takes it from the shelf. He lets it fall open where the book seems to want to and he reads …

"He blinked, startled - he would have sworn there had been a pair of old men, drinking by the fire - and then he recognized at least some few of the faces… old friends and one or two enemies, and even the winter lover he hadn't thought of in at least ten years… all dead. It was just the ghost tide… the liquor smelled of cloves and allspice, and he lifted the glass to the empty room before he drained it."

Sean smiles as he puts the book to one side whilst he hunts for his wallet - a nice present for Vig on Halloween - he thinks. Even if he doesn't like the book, he'll appreciate the artistic quality of the cover. Having located his wallet, Sean puts his hand down to where he'd put the book - but it's not there. He looks around but can't find it. No-one else has been near. Sean stands for a couple of minutes, wondering whether to ask the assistant, then decides against it. He picks up his other parcels and leaves the store. Shame - Viggo would have liked that. He's still thinking about the book when he gets home.

--[*] --

Glancing at the clock and unwrapping the new coffee maker from it's box, Sean begins to idly wonder where Viggo is. He smiles as he imagines Viggo talking to somebody somewhere about some bit of art with absolutely no thought of the time. Sean reads the manufacturer’s instructions and rinses the jugs and filters before pouring coffee and water into the reservoirs and switching the machine on.

Artist's hands. Painter's hands, Sean thinks. Always paint spattered … with dirty nails. Not that he minds. Sean can't get enough of Viggo's hands… ever. Sean closes his eyes and wishes Viggo home, wishes Viggo here, wishes Viggo's warm and callused fingers right now digging into his hips as he...

"You're late love," Sean teases as he senses Viggo enter the kitchen. "Fancy a coffee?"

"You didn't have to get this thing for me," a rough sensual voice murmurs from behind and Sean inhales deeply, his nostrils sensing the familiar mix of white spirit, oil and musk, his heart racing.

"Well, I figured you needed a little civilising," Sean whispers as a stubbled chin settles on his neck and familiar hands slide around his hips and into the front pockets of his jeans.

"What do you need, huh?"

Sean moans softly as he feels the warm form slide down his body, mouth moving against the warm skin where his jeans and shirt have parted company, smiles as he feels those paint spattered fingers moving against his hips, his cock suddenly hard and aching to be free. Sean gasps as the words from a too familiar film script invade his consciousness and his eyes fly open.

"What do you need?" The seductive voice of David Shaw resounds in his brain as Sean shudders helplessly against the counter. Behind him, the coffee maker hisses and steams.

--[*] --

What a relief to be home at last, Viggo thinks as he unlocks the door, to be out of the cold, blustering wind that has been blowing all day. True Hallowe'en weather, Ray Bradbury style, he muses, as he turns to close the door behind him, wondering if Sean is already home.

A sudden gust of wind hits the door and snatches it from Viggo's hand. As he turns to close it, he catches a glimpse of a black-clad figure right behind his back.

Then a voice speaks into his ear.

"Nakonez-to ti priehal. Ia jdala tebia..."
["Good, you're back. I was waiting for you…"]

Though he cannot understand the words, Viggo immediately recognizes the coolly amused tone that is one of Alec Trevelyan's trademarks.

The dark shadow crowding him against the door feels thick, almost like a physical presence, but radiates no body warmth.

Viggo's nostrils flare as they try to capture an elusive exotic scent, while the silky voice croons foreign words in his ear, words that have no meaning to him but that somehow speak directly to his senses, sending his head spinning.

He feels ghost fingers trail along the curve of his ass and slide tantalizingly along his hip, stopping right where the cloth of his pants rises over his quickly stiffening cock. One long ghost finger traces the length of his zipper, checking, measuring.


Viggo whimpers, first in arousal, then in surprise as a window rattles in the wind and blows open, startling him and shattering the illusion.

Shocked, he runs his hand through his hair and rubs his eyes, resisting the urge to adjust his pants. Alec's presence felt so real that he cannot help checking around the room, to make sure Sean's not there playing a trick on him.

No one.

--[*] --

Yeah, Sean thinks… a shower was just what I needed.

Walking naked from the bathroom into the bedroom, Sean gives a last rub to his wet hair and throws the towel on the bed, turning to the wardrobe to select some clothes. He finds boxers and jeans and puts them on.

"Okay - which shirt shall I wear?" Sean says out loud, immediately conscious that he is talking out loud - because it's something he always does when he's nervous. And he is nervous at the moment - no doubt about it.

Sean stands at the wardrobe, a dark green shirt in one hand and a lighter one in the other.

"D'ya want my honest opinion, Sean?"

Sean looks up when he hears Viggo's drawl whispering softly into his ear but the mirror in front of him shows the face of Walker Jerome - the Blouseman, smiling at Sean from behind his shoulder.

"Yeah - go on," Sean murmurs, his heart racing and his mouth dry.

"With those green eyes of yours, I think you're better off with a lighter colour."

Sean inhales sharply.

"See?" Walker's soft low voice continues, "With that shade of green, they're practically sparkling."

Sean swears he can feel the brush of Walker's sideburns against his skin as feathery kisses shower along his neck. He shivers involuntarily and blinks. When he looks in the mirror again, he's alone in the room. Sean grips the wardrobe door hard as if trying to hold on to reality. His hands are shaking - as are his legs. He returns one of the shirts to the rail and sits down on the bed, willing himself to relax. He closes his eyes.

In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Sean repeats the words in his head.

After five minutes of slow deep breathing, Sean feels better. He can hear Viggo moving around in the spare room. He opens his eyes and looks down at the shirt in his hands. Sean smiles despite himself - he's chosen the lighter coloured one after all.

--[*] --

Kneeling on the floor in front of a huge canvas, Viggo tries to lose himself in his painting, hoping this may help him forget the strange experience he's just had.

Suddenly, the tang of the paints he's using is overcome by a sharp smell. Viggo sniffs, baffled... sweat, and... gunpowder?

He slowly turns around, almost afraid of what he will see.

Boots.
Legs.
Unbelievably long legs.
Lean and muscled, encased in high-waisted blue cavalry pants.
A dirty white shirt, billowing (where is that wind blowing from?), and open on a tanned chest.

A rough, calloused hand reaches down to cup Viggo's jaw.

As if the hand is somehow levitating him up from the floor, Viggo slowly rises, mesmerized, until he's so close to that stubbled face that his eyelashes are almost brushing an old scar on the blond soldier's cheekbone.

Viggo feels a hot breath fan his face and then his bottom lip suddenly swells and tingles, as if being teased by sharp teeth.

He opens his mouth for more and then yelps, biting down on his own lip, startled, as a log burns itself out in the screened fireplace with a sound that almost feels like a rifle shot.

--[*] --

Sean can still hear footsteps in the spare room and sighs in relief. He is home after all. Sean walks quickly down the hallway.

"Vig .. is that you?" he calls as he approaches the slightly open door. "Quit fucking about - what're you doing in there?"

"I'm practising my draw."

The slow flat drawl slides over Sean's skin like velvet, making the hair on the back of his neck tickle and rise. Unable to stop himself he puts his hand on the door knob and pushes the door open, gasping as the naked form of Frankie Roberts appears before him, a cigarette hanging lazily out of the corner of his mouth, his hands pointing a pistol towards Sean.

Sean's rooted to the spot as if his feet were cased in cement. He stares at the naked skin sheathed in a fine film of sweat, his eyes drawn to the tattoos that have occupied his thoughts on so many occasions - the crescent moon curving seductively down his right hip, the soaring eagle hovering and the spiders web with a hard tight nipple at its centre. Sean licks his lips feeling himself harden as he imagines circling his tongue around the hard flesh then biting down .. perhaps a little too hard.

"Bang," Frankie murmurs… Sean looks up at the pistol, aroused beyond his comprehension by the image in front of him.

"Gotcha..." Frankie smiles and drops the pistol to the floor. Sean's eyes follow it down. It's not there. Sean gasps audibly and closes his eyes, his heart pounding. When he opens his eyes he's alone, but the smell of sweat and cigarette smoke remain.

--[*] --

Viggo moves through the house cautiously, jumping at every shadow. The silence of the house feels overpowering and he wishes he were not home alone. Or at least that he were really alone, with no more shadows driving him insane.

He creeps upstairs to the bedroom and throws himself on the bed. He's feeling a bit dizzy. He closes his eyes, leaving the lamp on the nightstand on. Even through his closed eyelids its soft glow feels reassuring, and he starts to relax.

The bedsprings groan, though Viggo is lying absolutely still. He frowns, he doesn't dare open his eyes, not anymore.

A voice he knows well, the accent more marked than ever, murmurs in his ear.

"Sleep no more! Macbeth doth murder Sleep, the innocent Sleep!"

Viggo's eyes blow open, staring straight into intensely green ones.

The lamplight shines golden on the naked chest of the man, who appears to be straddling his body, cradling it between his leather-clad thighs.

The man smiles at Viggo, lovingly, though pain and greed blaze in his eyes, before turning his magnetic gaze to the lamp.

"Stars hide your fires! Let not light see my black and deep desires," he hisses.

The light flickers and fades.

As darkness envelops him, Viggo feels strong hands sliding up his thighs. He sighs and lets himself tumble into the darkness.

--[*] --

Sean turns and stumbles from the spare room, walking almost blindly down the hallway. Entering the living room, he throws open the french doors to the garden and runs down the steps, breathing heavily. He stands amongst his plants and trees and tries to relax, wills his breathing to slow.

In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

He can smell the damp fallen leaves of autumn and there's wood smoke in the air. Familiar smells, normal smells. Sean smiles and leans against his favourite beech tree and lets his eyes drift shut.

Idiot, he thinks. Must be drinking too much coffee…

"You should get some rest. It is safe here." The soft but formal tones of the future king of Gondor seem strangely at home in this small haven of green and Sean turns to see Aragorn sitting on the raised bank under the large oak, pipe in hand. Sean feels strangely comforted by the quiet words and simply stands and watches the lean figure fill and light his pipe, idly wondering how he actually did light it, given that there is no fire. But those details aren't important - not tonight.

"It should be safe - it's my home," Sean whispers. "You're right, I do need some rest." He turns to go back to the house, feeling the emotion of the moment - the evening - rising inside him, tears from nowhere stinging his eyes.

"Stay a while," Aragorn murmurs. "It is a long time since we last talked of your fears."

"Of course." Sean whispers. He smiles apologetically and looks down for a moment. When he looks up Aragorn is standing right in front of him, which is strange because he neither heard nor felt his approach.

Sean closes his eyes, his head spinning as he feels the warmth of Aragorn's breath on his face followed by the lightest of touch of his lips on his mouth.

Be at peace, son of Gondor. Sean stands silently and lets his tears fall.

--[*] --

Viggo relaxes into the bathtub, feeling that some soothing of his nerves is in order after such a strange day.

He picks up a bath bomb from the box in the corner of the tub and drops it into the steaming water, watching through slitted eyes as it fizzes around, turning the water a beautiful deep green.

He breathes in deeply the aromatic essences it is releasing, sinking low into the water and thinking amusedly of how like the color of Sean's eyes it looks.

He's beginning to relax when the fizzing noise made by the diminishing ball suddenly changes. He opens his eyes and sees that the ball has surfaced and is now spluttering in the palm of a hand.

Boromir smiles at him from under a thin sheet of water that looks like glass, his hand reaching out to Viggo.

"Your plaything, my king."

--[*] --

Aragorn's words are still in his head and his tears are drying on his face as Sean stands in the kitchen, trying to make sense of the last few hours. He pours a now cool cup of coffee and is about to sit down, when he hears the unmistakeable sound of someone in the bathtub upstairs.

"I've fucking had enough of this," he says out loud as he moves quickly down the hallway and up the stairs to the bathroom. He throws the door open.

The figure in the green bubbling water looks up at him with haunted blue eyes, his hands gripping the side of the tub.

"Sean?"

"And you can just push off whoever you ... Vig… ? Is that you - really you?"

"Sean?" Viggo repeats softly. "Oh fuck, it is you.. Come here. I need to touch you - I need to know you're not going to disappear in a puff of smoke."

"You mean this - this weird shit has been happening to you too?"

Viggo nods, looking a bit wild-eyed.

Sean crosses the room and drops to his knees at the side of the bath and pulls a warm, wet and slippery Viggo into his arms. They hug each other tightly, Sean moving his lips and tongue against Viggo's neck.

"Ah, this is you alright," Sean murmurs. "No mistaking the real thing. You stay right here. Stay. Fuck, you feel and taste just perfect to me."

Viggo moans appreciatively as Sean begins to bite non-too softly at his shoulder. "Why don't you take those things off and join me in here," Viggo murmurs. "It'd be a real shame to waste all this hot water and bubbles."

Sean smiles against Viggo's skin. "Best offer I've had all day, love - don't mind if I do."

Sean stands up and begins to unbutton his now very wet shirt, never taking his eyes off Viggo. He throws the shirt to the floor and removes his jeans and boxers. For a moment he just stands still, looking at Viggo who is looking him up and down with obvious approval.

"What?" Sean asks as he lowers himself into the large square tub, immediately pulling Viggo to him.

"I was just thinking that was a nice shirt, Sean," Viggo whispers. "It sort of matches your eyes."

--[Later...] --

"You feeling okay now, Sean?"

"Yeah… was a bit weird though, you have to admit."

"Well," Viggo murmurs somewhat philosophically, "I suppose they're no less real than many other ghosts and after all, they've been very real to us when we took up their lives for months. We gave them substance - and we still do every time someone watches one of those movies - so maybe they do have a right to be here with us tonight."

Viggo sighs wistfully, sounding very much like a small kid shut out of a candy shop.

"What's the matter, love?" asks Sean.

"Nothing.." Viggo sighs again.

"Come on, you can tell me. Why are you moping?"

"It's just that I'm sorry that in all of this queer thing I didn't get a visit from your friend Mellors. He's just so fucking sexy…"

"Oh, but Mellors is right here anytime you want him," growls Sean in Mellors' familiar thick accent, his hands roaming down Viggo's chest. "Just say the word, Vig, and he'll be there."

"Please."

--[END] --

Comments

[lunasv.livejournal.com]

Fuckin' brilliant!

Love the interplay of the characters. Haunting. Natural. And poor Vig, not getting a visit from Mellors. You know, he really should feel lucky that some of Sean's nastier characters didn't want to come play.

Definitely one to read over and over.

[moldava.livejournal.com]

Ah, but poor Vig will be getting lots of Mellors.. Mellors-on-demand, so to speak *g*
And Jason Locke almost made it into fic, then we opted for Macbeth.

Thank you, I'm delighted you appreciated this *hugs*

[lannamichaels]

"Your plaything, my king."

o.O

You had me boggling under then, but now I'm fucking squeeing.


//snogs the both of you

[moldava.livejournal.com]

*offers bathbomb and snogs you*

I'm relieved you liked it even though I have to say no elf was sacrificed in the making of this...

Heath, pls confirm to Lanna that both our houses sport "elf trespassing will be severely persecuted" signs

[ribby.livejournal.com]

EEEEEE! *squees and hugs you both madly* Now _that_ was a ghost story I can get into (and around, and behind, and .... ) You both know how much I adore actor/character blurring, and doing it like this just... *happy satisfied sigh*.

*goes back to re-read*
*sounds of squealing fade into the distance*

*hugs you both again for the lovely Halloween treat!*

~Kris

[moldava.livejournal.com]

Blurring was certainly a major factor in this, actually the whole fic is based on it as Samhain is a blurring and thinning of boundaries between worlds.

*hugs you back*

Heath, I think we'd better start doing research on Beltane and Lughnasadh

[lebannen.livejournal.com]

Ahahahaha! Alec Trevelyan, Aragorn and bathbombs all in one place, and yet it's still so very spooky... but this could be because I have a very low spookiness threshold or something? If only there were more ghost stories like this...

[moldava.livejournal.com]

Alec Trevelyan, Aragorn and bathbombs all in one place

It does sound crazy put like that *G*
And Aragorn could certainly do with a bath and soap and bathbombs (Heath's gonna kill me for this as soon as she's better, I know *goes to hide*)

And you must see the blouseman, really, you've no idea what you're missing!

[liars-dance.livejournal.com]

And you must see the blouseman, really, you've no idea what you're missing! - oh I'll second that! An absolute must-see (as icon here)

[lebannen.livejournal.com]

Nooo! I'm with Heath on this one, you can't possibly wash Aragorn, it's wrong. If you put him in a bath he might dissolve or something... hmm, there's an idea; the Aragorn bathbomb. You could wrap it in black leather tied up with... hmm. I don't think long strands of greasy hair would work too well as a marketing pitch, you might have to go for something shiny instead. Of course, it would have to be a rather complicated flavour but I'm sure Lush can come up with something :D

[cinzia.livejournal.com]

o_O

Brilliant! And I agree with lannamichaels: the 'plaything' line made me squee out loud.

Eeeee!

*loves you both* :D

[moldava.livejournal.com]

Eeeee, thanks *hugs you tight*
Next time we stop by Lush I'll choose a bathbomb for you!

And as I said on my lj, I owe you big for helping merge Sean and Macbeth into one :)

*loves you*

[thalassatx.livejournal.com]

THIS IS SO GOOD!!!!!

Oh my goodness, I love it and I'm pimping it!!!

[moldava.livejournal.com]

Lol, is Sean chewing his nail in sympathy for your own one?!
Hope it's feeling better
*hugs you and thanks you*

[thalassatx.livejournal.com]

LOL!! I hadn't thought of that!! *pets icon* Sweet Seanie :)

[makamu]

Perfect!! I loved every single one of the ghosts that appeared. I was giggling my head off during Walker's stay, because every time I watch that scene, I am thinking of Sean. And as for the not so nice ghosts.. I think lamath should check the cage again, lest Lucifer has escaped ;). Anyway I loved the perfect characterization of the different characters and as for Boromir's (all too brief) appearance *melts* *applauds and bows*

[moldava.livejournal.com]

*poor caged Lucifer*
*makes note to self to remember to borrow Prophecy dvd from friend*

Thank you for your beautiful words and melting, Boromir always melts me too *drools*

[shrinetolust.livejournal.com]

*SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE*

Ohhh, this was SO good!! God, it was spooky, and sexy, and I couldn't wait to see what happened next. You described everything so perfectly... I was right in the room with each of them, their real selves and their different incarnations... *thud* Ohhh, Sharpe got me good...I was practically panting. And tattoo-d Viggo..ungh..Oh who am I kidding, all their forms had me panting. *tongue hangs out*

And LOL...it was nearing the end, and I swear to God I was going, "Where's Mellors? I want Viggo to have Mellors!" But in fact, he does. rrrowrrrr...

And I love through all the spookiness you've also given us such a lovely couple...the way they think of each other in the bookshop, the way they interact with one another at home... *purrs* And I love how very Viggo-esque it is for him to philosophize about the presence of their own ghosts.

*loves you both dearly*
*more squee!*

[moldava.livejournal.com]

*squeees back and loves you muchly, helps roll tongue back in*

Soooo glad you liked this all and especially that you liked Sharpe, that one was tricky.

And I can just see you frowning and thinking "where's Mellors? there must be a Mellors!" LOL

You know us, you can trust us *winks*

[jenmstar.livejournal.com]

That was so creative. Am most impressed. *huggles you both*

[moldava.livejournal.com]

*huggles you tight*
And thanks for the nice words (more about the fingers on your other comment *huge G*)

[virginhuntress.livejournal.com]

Absolutely wonderful! I loved this so much!!!

[moldava.livejournal.com]

Thank you!
Glad you liked this *g*

[ozcmom.livejournal.com]

This is the best Samhain story I have read - well done ladies. Eerie, made me feel a little worried for the guys considering some of the characters they have played, and itching to see how it all came together. Love that it was Mellors as such that kinda did.

Great fic, thanks for sharing.

[liars-dance.livejournal.com]

Thankyou! We had a great deal of fun deciding which characters to put in and writing it! And Mellors ... yeah *g*

[undonne.livejournal.com]

What a brilliant idea! A delightful Halloween present. I would gladly sign up for a haunting by any one (or more... preferably more) of these delightful characters.

[liars-dance.livejournal.com]

Thankyou! All moldava's idea - and what an idea it was! Glad you enjoyed it ( and yes I's sign up for an evening of haunting by them all)

[seleneheart]

Great Halloween story! And the boys have such a wonderful relationship.

[liars-dance.livejournal.com]

Thanks! We had fun and (in the end) so did the boys!

[carelessmemory.livejournal.com]

thalassatx pointed me to this. =)

Squeek! I absolutely loved it. The best ghost story. Ever.

[liars-dance.livejournal.com]

Well thankyou and thanks thalassatx - I'm so glad you enjoyed it!

[elouisa.livejournal.com]

Heath told me to expect a Halloween fic from you both... she didn't tell me how damn fantastic it would be though :)

I loved the way you used the book at the beginning as a catalyst for it, it is so very *normal*, in no way implying what will happen. Your characterisation is perfect.

Very much enjoyed this.

*hugs you both*

[liars-dance.livejournal.com]

Thankyou so much my fellow insomniac!! We enjoyed writing it so much as well so it's really fantastic to have such a response. *me and her hugs you back*