Indelible, PG, Mick/Coraline, Champagne Challenge #136
Posted: Sat Jan 28, 2012 3:36 am
Title: Indelible
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own Moonlight, nor am I making any money from this, though I'm certainly having fun playing with the characters. No infringement intended.
Warnings: None in this one.
Summary: Sometimes the things you most want to forget are the things you most need to remember.
A/N: Written for Champagne Challenge #136, Mick's Ring, Mick's Pendant. This particular fic focuses on his pendant.
As always, I thank my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ who is the source of all inspiration.
~*~*~*~*~
Indelible
1952
The night was clear and warm, a soft breeze stirring the surface of the pool, causing ripples in the moon’s silver reflection.
Mick was content to watch it from his place on the blanket Coraline had spread out over one corner of the patio, like they were at the beach, instead of behind her estate. Mick was sitting up, his elbows balanced on his knees, while Coraline was laying her stomach next to him, her head resting on her folded arms, lounging in the moonlight the way that most people bathed in the sun.
Mick reached out a hand to brush the fabric of her strapless dress, and then moved higher up her back, to her bare shoulder. He traced the shape of the tattoo with his finger, enjoying the feel of her soft, smooth skin. Coraline shifted slightly, and Mick paused, wondering if she wanted him to stop, but she didn’t say anything, just leaned subtly into his touch. He traced the mark again, following the fleur-de-lis’s elegant curves.
“Coraline?"
“Hm?”
“Why did you decide to get a tattoo?”
Coraline turned her head towards him, her full lips curving in amusement. “What, I don’t seem like the type to have one?”
“Not exactly,” Mick admitted. “I mean, it’s beautiful, but you’re high-class all the way, and a tattoo just doesn't seem like something you would want.”
Coraline’s expression grew thoughtful as studied him, her brow creasing faintly like she was trying to decide how much to tell him.
“I didn’t want it at first,” she said finally.
“You didn’t?”
Her smile this time had a bitter edge. “No.”
Mick frowned. “But then, why…?”
She looked away, staring out over the pool again, her gaze distant. “I didn’t have a choice.”
Mick’s frowned deepened, not liking what that implied. If someone had hurt Coraline, he’d hunt them down himself. “What do you mean? What happened?”
She sighed, and turned around to face him, leaning back on her elbows. “It’s a long story, Mick. Maybe I’ll tell you the whole thing someday. All you need to know right now is that they didn’t win. I did.”
“But-”
Coraline sat up, silencing him with a sudden kiss, soft but demanding. Mick found her waist and pulled her closer, losing himself in the sensation of her lips against his.
When she finally broke away, he was breathless.
Coraline toyed with the collar of his shirt, resting her other palm against his chest. He was surprised when she spoke again. “The tattoo is a reminder.”
“A reminder of what?”
“That I was stronger than they were.”
Mick wasn’t sure who she meant by they, but there was something about the way she said it that spoke of old pain. He reached up to brush a strand of hair out of her face, resisting the urge to comfort her. Coraline, he’d learned early on, was not a woman who liked to be coddled. And whatever she’d been through - it hadn’t broken her, he knew that. It was just…the idea that she’d been forced to do something she didn’t want to…
She must have seen his expression.
“Still think it’s beautiful?” she asked, her voice oddly challenging.
Mick held her gaze, and deliberately found the mark on her shoulder again, tracing it once more. “It’s part of you.”
Coraline stared at him for a long time, long enough that Mick had started to wonder if she were angry. But, then she smiled a small, genuine smile, and she moved to kiss him again, deeply, her thumb running along the line of his jaw. For the moment, Mick stopped thinking about anything at all.
~*~*~*~*~
1972
“Mick?”
He’d sensed Coraline long before she’d said anything. So far, he’d managed to ignore her, but he knew it wouldn’t last. She wouldn’t let it.
“Mick, what’s wrong?”
Mick scoffed, surprised she’d actually tried that approach. “You really have to ask?”
Coraline’s sigh carried across the room. “What do you want me to do, Mick? Do you want me to leave?”
“It’s never seemed to matter what I want.”
The silence that followed told him that particular barb had hit its mark. He took a sip of the scotch he held, listening to the ice clink against the glass. He wasn’t surprised when he heard Coraline’s footsteps a moment later. She moved closer, until she was right next to him, and he could see her out of the corner of his eye. She’d gone all out, he realized. She was wearing the dress that never failed to make him look twice, a sleek, red one that reminded him of what she’d had on the night they’d met, and she’d left her hair down the way he liked it, falling around her shoulders in loose waves.
“I have something for you.”
“I’m not interested in gifts, Coraline. Not from you. Not tonight.” He downed the rest of his scotch, wishing he could feel more than just the burn in his throat.
On this night, it was always worse…the bitterness, the anger. Coraline never seemed to understand that. She’d tried various ways to get him to celebrate, from throwing parties to taking lavish trips, but it almost always ended the same way - with a fight, usually a vicious one.
He’d hoped to avoid that this year, too weary of…of everything. Twenty years. Twenty years of living like this. But twenty years was only the blink of an eye for a vampire. Chances were, he had many, many more years left ahead of him.
He reached for the bottle of scotch to refill his glass, and Coraline caught his arm with one hand. His eyes flashed silver in annoyance, but she didn’t let him go. She held out a small, blue, velvet-covered box. “Here.”
Mick frowned, but took it from her grudgingly, aware that she wouldn’t relent until he did. He pried the lid of the box open and blinked in surprise.
It was a necklace...a chain with a pendant, four fleur-de-lis arranged in the shape of a cross. It looked silver and he almost hesitated to touch it, but he didn’t think Coraline would give him a silver necklace unless she was feeling particularly vindictive. He ran it between his thumb and index finger. White gold, he realized. It was white gold.
He plucked it from the box, and glanced at Coraline questioningly.
She smiled faintly. “It made me think of you.”
Mick arched an eyebrow. It didn’t matter how long he survived, when he saw a fleur-de-lis, he would only ever think of Coraline.
“Why?” he asked finally.
She gave a small, graceful shrug. “Because you understand something no one else ever has.” She bent down to kiss his cheek, and Mick couldn’t help but lean into it, the touch of her lips still enough to send every nerve tingling with awareness.
“Happy 20th anniversary, Mick.”
She turned away, obviously expecting that he would follow, and Mick sighed, knowing that she was probably right. But for a few minutes, he simply sat there, staring at the necklace clasped loosely in his hand, the chain dangling between his fingers.
~*~*~*~*~
1985
It was morning, and sunlight was just beginning to filter through the windows of his apartment. Mick knew it wouldn’t be long before that sunlight reached him.
He didn’t really care.
Coraline was dead. He’d killed her.
It was almost funny - he’d never thought about killing her before. Killing himself, that was something else, but killing Coraline…
He hadn’t planned it.
He couldn’t even really say what had made him do it, what he’d been thinking when he’d started that fire. All he’d seen was Beth, innocent and terrified, tears streaming down her face.
He’d just wanted to make it stop.
And he had.
But now, he didn’t know what to feel. Relief? Sorrow? Horror?
Mostly, he just felt sick.
After he’d taken Beth home, back to her mother, he’d driven to his apartment, walked numbly to the stairs and sat down. Then he’d fumbled blindly for the chain around his neck, pulling at the necklace until the fleur-de-lis pendant rested in his palm, reflecting the light.
Coraline was gone.
The woman he’d said he would love forever. He hadn’t known what he was promising then…but he’d meant it. He had. He’d never imagined that he would become her murderer.
Then again, he hadn’t imagined a lot of things.
Coraline was gone, and he’d killed her. He’d killed his wife. She had been his wife…no matter what, she’d been his wife.
Mick stared at the pendant, his fingers curling around it for a moment before he slid the necklace back beneath his shirt, the metal cool against his chest.
A reminder, Coraline had told him once. The fleur-de-lis was a reminder.
And that’s what it would always be.
Fin
~*~*~*~*~
A/N: I hope you enjoyed it, and please let me know what you think!
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own Moonlight, nor am I making any money from this, though I'm certainly having fun playing with the characters. No infringement intended.
Warnings: None in this one.
Summary: Sometimes the things you most want to forget are the things you most need to remember.
A/N: Written for Champagne Challenge #136, Mick's Ring, Mick's Pendant. This particular fic focuses on his pendant.
As always, I thank my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ who is the source of all inspiration.
~*~*~*~*~
Indelible
1952
The night was clear and warm, a soft breeze stirring the surface of the pool, causing ripples in the moon’s silver reflection.
Mick was content to watch it from his place on the blanket Coraline had spread out over one corner of the patio, like they were at the beach, instead of behind her estate. Mick was sitting up, his elbows balanced on his knees, while Coraline was laying her stomach next to him, her head resting on her folded arms, lounging in the moonlight the way that most people bathed in the sun.
Mick reached out a hand to brush the fabric of her strapless dress, and then moved higher up her back, to her bare shoulder. He traced the shape of the tattoo with his finger, enjoying the feel of her soft, smooth skin. Coraline shifted slightly, and Mick paused, wondering if she wanted him to stop, but she didn’t say anything, just leaned subtly into his touch. He traced the mark again, following the fleur-de-lis’s elegant curves.
“Coraline?"
“Hm?”
“Why did you decide to get a tattoo?”
Coraline turned her head towards him, her full lips curving in amusement. “What, I don’t seem like the type to have one?”
“Not exactly,” Mick admitted. “I mean, it’s beautiful, but you’re high-class all the way, and a tattoo just doesn't seem like something you would want.”
Coraline’s expression grew thoughtful as studied him, her brow creasing faintly like she was trying to decide how much to tell him.
“I didn’t want it at first,” she said finally.
“You didn’t?”
Her smile this time had a bitter edge. “No.”
Mick frowned. “But then, why…?”
She looked away, staring out over the pool again, her gaze distant. “I didn’t have a choice.”
Mick’s frowned deepened, not liking what that implied. If someone had hurt Coraline, he’d hunt them down himself. “What do you mean? What happened?”
She sighed, and turned around to face him, leaning back on her elbows. “It’s a long story, Mick. Maybe I’ll tell you the whole thing someday. All you need to know right now is that they didn’t win. I did.”
“But-”
Coraline sat up, silencing him with a sudden kiss, soft but demanding. Mick found her waist and pulled her closer, losing himself in the sensation of her lips against his.
When she finally broke away, he was breathless.
Coraline toyed with the collar of his shirt, resting her other palm against his chest. He was surprised when she spoke again. “The tattoo is a reminder.”
“A reminder of what?”
“That I was stronger than they were.”
Mick wasn’t sure who she meant by they, but there was something about the way she said it that spoke of old pain. He reached up to brush a strand of hair out of her face, resisting the urge to comfort her. Coraline, he’d learned early on, was not a woman who liked to be coddled. And whatever she’d been through - it hadn’t broken her, he knew that. It was just…the idea that she’d been forced to do something she didn’t want to…
She must have seen his expression.
“Still think it’s beautiful?” she asked, her voice oddly challenging.
Mick held her gaze, and deliberately found the mark on her shoulder again, tracing it once more. “It’s part of you.”
Coraline stared at him for a long time, long enough that Mick had started to wonder if she were angry. But, then she smiled a small, genuine smile, and she moved to kiss him again, deeply, her thumb running along the line of his jaw. For the moment, Mick stopped thinking about anything at all.
~*~*~*~*~
1972
“Mick?”
He’d sensed Coraline long before she’d said anything. So far, he’d managed to ignore her, but he knew it wouldn’t last. She wouldn’t let it.
“Mick, what’s wrong?”
Mick scoffed, surprised she’d actually tried that approach. “You really have to ask?”
Coraline’s sigh carried across the room. “What do you want me to do, Mick? Do you want me to leave?”
“It’s never seemed to matter what I want.”
The silence that followed told him that particular barb had hit its mark. He took a sip of the scotch he held, listening to the ice clink against the glass. He wasn’t surprised when he heard Coraline’s footsteps a moment later. She moved closer, until she was right next to him, and he could see her out of the corner of his eye. She’d gone all out, he realized. She was wearing the dress that never failed to make him look twice, a sleek, red one that reminded him of what she’d had on the night they’d met, and she’d left her hair down the way he liked it, falling around her shoulders in loose waves.
“I have something for you.”
“I’m not interested in gifts, Coraline. Not from you. Not tonight.” He downed the rest of his scotch, wishing he could feel more than just the burn in his throat.
On this night, it was always worse…the bitterness, the anger. Coraline never seemed to understand that. She’d tried various ways to get him to celebrate, from throwing parties to taking lavish trips, but it almost always ended the same way - with a fight, usually a vicious one.
He’d hoped to avoid that this year, too weary of…of everything. Twenty years. Twenty years of living like this. But twenty years was only the blink of an eye for a vampire. Chances were, he had many, many more years left ahead of him.
He reached for the bottle of scotch to refill his glass, and Coraline caught his arm with one hand. His eyes flashed silver in annoyance, but she didn’t let him go. She held out a small, blue, velvet-covered box. “Here.”
Mick frowned, but took it from her grudgingly, aware that she wouldn’t relent until he did. He pried the lid of the box open and blinked in surprise.
It was a necklace...a chain with a pendant, four fleur-de-lis arranged in the shape of a cross. It looked silver and he almost hesitated to touch it, but he didn’t think Coraline would give him a silver necklace unless she was feeling particularly vindictive. He ran it between his thumb and index finger. White gold, he realized. It was white gold.
He plucked it from the box, and glanced at Coraline questioningly.
She smiled faintly. “It made me think of you.”
Mick arched an eyebrow. It didn’t matter how long he survived, when he saw a fleur-de-lis, he would only ever think of Coraline.
“Why?” he asked finally.
She gave a small, graceful shrug. “Because you understand something no one else ever has.” She bent down to kiss his cheek, and Mick couldn’t help but lean into it, the touch of her lips still enough to send every nerve tingling with awareness.
“Happy 20th anniversary, Mick.”
She turned away, obviously expecting that he would follow, and Mick sighed, knowing that she was probably right. But for a few minutes, he simply sat there, staring at the necklace clasped loosely in his hand, the chain dangling between his fingers.
~*~*~*~*~
1985
It was morning, and sunlight was just beginning to filter through the windows of his apartment. Mick knew it wouldn’t be long before that sunlight reached him.
He didn’t really care.
Coraline was dead. He’d killed her.
It was almost funny - he’d never thought about killing her before. Killing himself, that was something else, but killing Coraline…
He hadn’t planned it.
He couldn’t even really say what had made him do it, what he’d been thinking when he’d started that fire. All he’d seen was Beth, innocent and terrified, tears streaming down her face.
He’d just wanted to make it stop.
And he had.
But now, he didn’t know what to feel. Relief? Sorrow? Horror?
Mostly, he just felt sick.
After he’d taken Beth home, back to her mother, he’d driven to his apartment, walked numbly to the stairs and sat down. Then he’d fumbled blindly for the chain around his neck, pulling at the necklace until the fleur-de-lis pendant rested in his palm, reflecting the light.
Coraline was gone.
The woman he’d said he would love forever. He hadn’t known what he was promising then…but he’d meant it. He had. He’d never imagined that he would become her murderer.
Then again, he hadn’t imagined a lot of things.
Coraline was gone, and he’d killed her. He’d killed his wife. She had been his wife…no matter what, she’d been his wife.
Mick stared at the pendant, his fingers curling around it for a moment before he slid the necklace back beneath his shirt, the metal cool against his chest.
A reminder, Coraline had told him once. The fleur-de-lis was a reminder.
And that’s what it would always be.
Fin
~*~*~*~*~
A/N: I hope you enjoyed it, and please let me know what you think!
