isabeth (isabeth) wrote,

My Valentine (Episode 113)

Someone said the countries of Europe were at war again. But no big campaign was put together, no Armies were sent out by the Watchers. It was up to the wards themselves if they went to war, some did, some didn't. Since the battle itself was taking place in Spain, most of Castle Tudyk had emptied for the cause.

Isabeth had heard that her Alan had gone to battle and was killed. Oliver could feel it when his twin brother James got killed. But the two of them just held onto each other tighter. Isabeth and Oliver, in love, praying it would be forever.

One warm spring morning, Oliver picked Isabeth up out of bed while she was still sleeping. He wrapped her up in a blanket and carried her down to the park behind Castle Huntington. There he held her like a baby, in the predawn purple light, Oliver waited for Isabeth to wake up. Which she did just as the sun burst over the horizon.

Isabeth opened her eyes to see the glory of life beginning before her. She watched the sun rise up into the sky and wake the world. When she looked up into Oliver's eyes she cried for the love she found there. She cried and fell in love with Oliver all over again.

“Make love to me,” Isabeth asked innocently.

“I will,” Oliver promised. “But not here, not now.”

He carried her back inside the castle and together they bathed each other for the day. The two did everything for each other, they toweled off one another, dressed one another. At breakfast, it was as if no one else existed. They sat together, spoke only to each other, even feed each other off their own forks.

And the day progressed as such till the last rays of sunlight had faded behind the trees. Oliver and Isabeth stood on the steps of Castle Huntington and watched it fade away.

Oliver picked Isabeth up again and carried her up to her hidden room. This time Oliver did everything. He undressed both himself and Isabeth, carefully tucked her into bed.

“I thought you said you would make love to me,” Isabeth reminded with a whisper.

“I'll show you,” Oliver said, and he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

His kisses were deep, he used his lips and tongue to show what he had in mind. When he finished, her lips were red and swollen, her cheeks flushed. Isabeth looked like a woman eager for the promised carnal pleasure.

“I wan to use your name, your real name,” Oliver said softly.

“My name is Isabeth,” she said a little unsteadily. “Isabeth Simpson.”

he gathered her closer and kissed her again. “Isabeth,” he whispered. His mouth moved along her cheek, to her ear, and a tremor went through her. Her eyes closed as his tongue brushed the sensitive skin behind her lobe.

“I'm not... um. I'm not...” She whimpered shortly as his had swept over her thigh, across the curve of her hip, up over her midriff, and cupped her breast. She groaned as his mouth covered her's again. His fingers were firm yet gentle against her flesh, she felt her nipples harden and perk at his touch, felt the answering leap of flame deep within her femininity.

Isabeth's heart began drumming faster as her hands crept up Oliver's chest, she moved blindly against him, her mouth opened to his kisses. Suddenly she stopped him.

“Oliver, I have to tell you...”

But her whispers didn't have any strength against his kisses and his caresses. She moaned softly as his hands began investigating her body again.

“I can feel your desire, Isabeth,” he said softly.

She trembled while his fingers brushed lightly down her stomach and touched the dampness of her womanhood.

“You belong to me,” he professed.

Isabeth's thoughts began racing of all the things she needed to tell him about who, what, she really was. If only she did belong to him. If only she could. If only all this was real. If only...

“Isabeth,” he whispered. “You're so beautiful.”

Was she? Suddenly, she was humbled. She wanted to be beautiful, she wanted to be everything Oliver could ever desire in a woman. He was beautiful too. She wanted to tell him that. But how could she talk when his hands and mouth were searching out all her secrets? And not the secrets her brain was screaming at her to tell him.

Oliver made Isabeth feel as if she was shimmering in her desire. His kisses where flames burning her skin everywhere, promises of pleasures yet to come. Moaning, she moved against him, her body on fire, her hands learning his silken skin stretched over muscle.

When he entered her she called out, a long, low moan that broke from her throat. “Oliver,” she called out his name and pulled him closer to her.

Oliver slowed his movements in and out of Isabeth's mound. He too was shaking as he fought to control his body. “We have all night,” he whispered to her.

“A night,” Isabeth whispered back. “I want forever.”

Oliver's moments changed to match Isabeth's pace and cues. He pushed himself up on straight arms to reach the angle he knew she liked the best. Isabeth brought her knees up on either side of his hips and tilted her hips. Her nails raked down his back as she began to loose herself in the ecstasy.

“I love you,” she vowed, and then she was beyond thought. She was adrift in the night, guided only by the sweet seduction of this man who had captured all of her.

* * * * * * * * * *

They had finished making love and now lay entangled with one another.

“I’m so glad your really here,” Isabeth sighed.

“Did you think I wasn’t?” Oliver joked.

“No I’m just glad you’re here. No longer am I masturbating with the image of someone’s face in my head, or running my hand over my matrices pretending I am holding onto someone.”

“You talk like you have trouble getting people into your bed.”

“I have trouble getting those into my bed that I want there,” she wrongly explained. “What I mean is, despite all the running around I do, what I really want is a long term loving relationship. I want those three words.”

“Do you want Marriage?”

“No. But I’m not opposed to it. I’ve done it twice already.”

“You’ve been married and divorced twice!” Oliver was shocked.

“Been there, done that, bought the tee-shirt.”

“Will you marry me?”

“How much time do I have to think about it?”

“Until I count to ten.”

“Then no.”

“Okay, one year.”

“Then, I’ll let you know in exactly one year from this moment,” with that Isabeth's pendant glowed briefly and went out.

“You were trying to tell me something before,” Oliver reminded. “What was it?”

“I'm not alive any more,” Isabeth said and paused for his reaction.

“That makes no sense,” Oliver said with a smile.

He was hoping for her to say that she was just joking. Instead she proceeded to tell him her entire life, and death, story. But she didn't stop there, she told him how Grigori wasn't old Europe at all, but a small off shoot of what most people called heaven. When their five hundred years here were over, everyone would go back where they came from and she would be alone in her little world. Everyone had the choice to return to Grigori when their own death came, but they wouldn't be required to. She explained how she really felt about Alan T and what he truly meant to her, but that to protect him from what was to come in just three hundred more short years, she had to push him away. And she told Oliver that she honestly loved him, and he knew it to be true. There wasn't much Isabeth kept from him that night. She kept a few secrets for herself, but knew that if he'd asked the right questions, she would have told those secrets too.

“Is there anything you want to know about me?” Oliver asked her when she was done.

“Everything you want me to know, but only what you're willing to tell,” was her answer.

Oliver smiled, pulled Isabeth into is arms and began to tell her everything.

* * * * * * * * * *

There were no words left to speak between the two lovers, all that could or would ever be said had been on that wonderful night. But they could still hear each other speak in the way they looked at one another. Every time Oliver would look at Isabeth she would smile, laugh, or even come to tears of joy. It was as if they had their own unspoken language that said how they felt inside.

Every so often a term of endearment would be spoken out loud. “All of my life I have been waiting for you.” Oliver whispered to her one day as they were sitting under a tree enjoying a summer breeze.

“I've never loved someone just for them before,” Isabeth gave back to him. “You've opened my eyes.”

“I've dreamed of this a thousand times before In my dreams I couldn't love you more.”

“I wish I could meet the woman who is meant to love you in the real world as I was meant to love you here,” Isabeth said absentmindedly.

“Why is that?” Oliver pandered.

“So I could tell her what wonders she has in store for her. So I can tell her to run to you and never look back. To not wait, to not hesitate, to always believe in you and your love. To tell her how much I wished I was her.”

“It's a shame it can't be you,” Oliver said hiding a tear. This one not of joy, this one was the only show of how much he hurt for Isabeth's loss. He accepted it, there was nothing anyone could do now to change it, but he still hated knowing that when he left this place he would never see her again.

Oliver leaned down to kiss Isabeth but stopped short. “Becky is calling me on my pendant.

“Oh, shit,” Isabeth sounded. “It's August. Yearly check in.

“I'll be back tomorrow,” Oliver promised with a kiss and vanished into thin air.

Almost as soon as he did, Becky herself arrived on the hill. The two friends embraced joyously.

“You just missed him,” Isabeth advised. “He's off to Castle Tudyk to check in.”

“I know, I'll get to him later,” Becky said seriously. “I needed to talk to you too. What did you do to James?”

“I eliminated a complication,” Isabeth said in her Head Watcher tone. “I couldn't let things go on as they were and still have what I have now.”

“You changed him,” Becky accused. “You made him into something horrible.”


“Becky,” Becky yelled. “At least follow you're own rules if you won't even consider anyone else's.

“Becky, I'm not sure you know everything that was happening.”

“You're right I don't. I really don't want to. But you should really sit down and think about what was going on, figure out how you really got to where you are now. And at what cost. You keep running from problems instead of facing them, you just make more problems.”

The sensual red head turned to leave but looked back at her best friend one more time. “Isabeth. You can’t love one twin without liking the other,” said Becky. “But which one do you love, and which one do you like by default?”
Tags: oliver phelps
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