Disclaimer: See Chapter One.
Author's Note: Thank you to my reviewers. I got kind of stuck after the last chapter, which explains why there hasn't been an update in, what, eleven days. In any case, thank you to those of you have reviewed for they gave me inspiration for more chapters. As always, responses to your wonderful comments is at the end of the chapter. And, thank you.
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Muses Behaving Badly
Chapter Fourteen: Menthol
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I inhaled on the cigarette, loving the burn as the smoke wandered down my throat and into my lungs. The menthol tang was in the air and my fingers had a decidedly yellowed tinge.
I didn't smoke often.
It was a habit that I'd picked up in freshman year while going to frat parties as an underaged girl since I was also the designated driver in most cases. If I couldn't drink, then I would smoke. I tapped the ash into the can beside me and once again resumed my illicit puffing.
As I said, I don't smoke often. Stress tends to be a cause as often as not.
Oh, and torture.
Cerdic intent on hurting me was not a pretty thing. Okay, it was actually a very pretty thing. What had I been thinking when I let him become one of my muses?
My brother, the one with the porn fetish and the baseball paraphernalia, has never understood why I like the Saxons. He's watched the movie with me at least once and advised me that the Saxons were homicidal maniacs.
I'd actually said that they were misunderstood.
I now knew better.
I slowly got to my feet, rolling my neck and shoulders as I stood.
Had it really been twenty-four hours since I'd been trapped in my own bedroom with a Saxon and a scout? By the time that I'd finally staggered down the hallway from my bedroom, my answering machine was blinking with an obscene amount of messages and I finally understood Stockholm Syndrome.
Fortunately for me, the torture session had been interrupted by an apparent muse union meeting.
And who knew that the most horrid torture that those two could come up with was making me watch Barney.
I was never, ever going to do anything to piss off those two again.
Ever.
I crushed out the cigarette and plucked another from the pack, quickly situating it between my lips and scorching the end with my lighter until the cigarette end glowed a cheery orange. I dropped back onto the step, cigarette firmly clamped between my lips and cigarettes and lighter now in hand to avoid having to get up from my next cancer stick.
"You shouldn't smoke," offered Lancelot, looking disapprovingly at the cigarette.
I raised an eyebrow. "For a man who was going to be tortured, you look remarkably fit. I would have thought you would have run."
Lancelot shook his head and sprawled on the steps beside me. "You came home. I was released. Much like a prisoner exchange," he explained, taking a pull from the wineskin that had somehow appeared.
I nodded and took another drag off the cigarette. "Sure."
Lancelot frowned at my tone. It was a combination of acceptance and irony. "What exactly did Tristan and Cerdic do?"
I blinked. "They made me watch the Power Rangers, Barney, and Spongebob. I am now their obedient slave."
Lancelot swearing is funny.
Really funny.
The End (for now)
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To My Wonderful Reviewers
Ysolde: Sorry about the cliffhanger and I hope that Mongolia was fantastic. Hope when you get back, you like it.
Saxongirl345: No, not well. I too feel sorry for her. And I'm writing this thing. (sigh)
Cleopatra32003: Yup. Nope. Didn't have to work the dress and stilettos. Though there was no sex. (damn.)
Gargoyle13: Thank you! I am so thrilled to have a beta since my husband has been completely squicked by my writing a first person story with "lust-after-hunky-fifth-century-muses-and-possibly-get-ravished-by-aforesaid-hunky-men." And thank you for being willing to give opinions and allow ideas to be bounced. Now, as to your review. Sorry for twisting your tummy. But haven't all of us found ourselves tortured by our muses (I know I have). No, not kind. And, yes, very good with the bait and switch. As to "behave"--I finally had to resort to playing Tom Smith as loud as I could until my muses ran for cover. Didn't help that I know every single word. And try Nigel Terry's Arthur from Excalibur. He tends to kick everyone's ass. (grin)
C.J. Davis: Thank you. You got me to write the next chapter and get my muses to actually work on this. I'm glad that I can help and I'll keep going as long as I can have more Heart of Time. Sounds like a fair trade. Oh, and sorry. Just tell Methos to play nice. Sorry that I stopped where I did--my muses abandoned me in favor of going to Disneyland. In other words, they wanted to work on other stories. So glad you are enjoying. And, don't worry, I do the same thing and then have to practically duct tape my mouth shut as I read fic. And hope the torture was bad enough (as a mom, I dread those shows).
Pastel Shades: So glad that you're enjoying. Of course you can take her place. Though I don't think you'd want to with what they put her through. Thanks for the offer of being a beta, but Gargoyle13 contacted me first. Again, thanks for the offer and here's hoping you continue to enjoy.
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