Sheets of Egyptian Cotton (SV,XO,MATURE,CC/UC) 1/1 Complete

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Sheets of Egyptian Cotton (SV,XO,MATURE,CC/UC) 1/1 Complete

Post by KiaraAlexisKlay » Thu Nov 11, 2010 9:47 pm

Sheets of Egyptian Cotton
By Kiara Alexis Klay
Genre: Crossover, Roswell, Smallville
Disclaimer: Neither world is mine, though I like to look in and share my interpretations with you all.
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Established relationship Destiny’s Damned (Liz/Oliver), Serena/Alex, mentions of past CC and some UC
Summary: “I may be love’s bitch…but at least I’m man enough to admit it,” – Spike, BTvS
A/N: Due to some requests, I am re-posting this story as a one-shot sequel to Shot Through The Heart.

My thanks to my RF betas who went over this, V (vampyrolover86), D (darkmoon) and B (burningchaos) -- you all are made of awesome!

And to my brother, "Ricco". He is a United States Marine and currently being deployed. Semper Fi!



Liz started awake, head feeling slightly muddled with sleep, heart thumping at the sudden wakefullness from a deep rest. She was loathe to join the land of the aware, her body sharing this sentiment by having found the perfect spot cocooned beneath the sheet and blankets.

But an inward voice, suspiciously sounding a great deal like Michael complete with gruff attitude, warned her that one does not wake from a deep sleep for no reason. Mentally she cursed paranoid alien hybrid alpha males and their overprotective tendencies even when not actually in attendance, quietly slipping from bed. If there was really something going on, she’d rather face it upright, rather than flat on her back among sheets of Egyptian cotton.

There was nothing but silence, and it was in that stillness that finally brought Liz to full on red alert. The loft was too quiet despite the soft whir of the air conditioner and she dropped into a defensive crouch, instinctively making a smaller and more difficult target. One hand was raised at ready while her eyes fought to adapt to the dim lighting, which over the years had improved as more of her body adapted and ‘evolved’ further to her emerging enhancements. The fact that she had fallen asleep and awoken in a dark room only worked to her advantage as she was able to make out murky forms that solidified into familiar objects.

Cautiously, she crab walked across the floor at an angle, back toward the wall as she scuttled toward the partially open door. The soft blue of the dim overhead lights in the living room and kitchen area cast a muted glow through the gap in the door. Her waiting ears heard the soft shuffle of feet on carpet and heart pounding, she risked a peek.


A tall, hooded figure stealthily moved about the room, and after a few seconds observation, something tight in Liz’s chest eased as she noted the utter assurance the ‘intruder’ moved about with. The various tables and assorted furniture were avoided with the complete ease of knowing where everything was located, an intimate acquaintance and familiarity that not even the best thief could achieve.

A relieved sigh crossed her lips as she stood up, the soft sigh freezing the hooded one for a moment. Slowly, the cowled figure turned, and the soft glowing glinted briefly off the wrap around shades barely visible from beneath the hood. The same light cast oblong shadows across a chiseled and angled face only partially exposed.

Liz felt a sleepy smile tug on her lips and with a tired sigh leaned against the doorjamb, resting her cheek against the lacquered wood.

“Hey, stranger,” she murmured in greeting, hiding a yawn against the doorway. When she blinked for a moment, she was face to chest with her late night visitor upon opening her eyes.

A gauntleted hand stretched a loose fist out to tilt her head back using the index finger and Liz fairly purred. The cowl and glasses couldn’t hide the smirk or flash of pleasure that graced his features. For there was no doubt, her ‘intruder’ was a male of the delicious, bad boy kind.

“You should be sleeping,” a deep, gravelly voice rolled over her, the mechanical accent doing nothing to hide the gentle chastisement or the cocky condescention.

“I was,” she admitted, giving a quick shrug, but didn’t move away from the hand now running a thumb and forefinger along her jaw and the underside of her chin. She leaned into that touch, sighing softly at the ridged leather and rubbing her cheek catlike against the caress.

“Go back to bed,” was the order, but Liz merely shook her head, her free hand reaching out to grab the gloved hand not caressing her face. Giving a playful tug, she moved backward into the room, loving the feel of his hand about her as it left her face.

A mechanical chuckle sounded and Liz rolled her eyes, knowing her choice of sleeping attire was the cause for amusement.

“Laugh all you want, it’s your fault you know,” she retorted without any heat, a smile of her own appearing.

Free hand rising to remove the hood, Oliver Queen shed his Green Arrow persona with the removing of his glasses as he allowed his girlfriend to tug him further into the room they shared. She was once again wearing his white silk button up shirt and he truly didn’t mid her ‘borrowing’ it. She looked so cute, he smiled down at her.

Liz had her own room in the loft, but she could usually be found curled up with Oliver come morning time. They had yet to consummate the relationship, and it wasn’t from lack of any attraction or passion. Both passion and the attraction was there in spades, sometimes more than one or the other could stand.

But neither did the pair want to rush into a relationship, previous heartache a strong taskmaster they learned well. And if the truth were told when it was all said and done, Oliver was enjoying the simple act of being able to merely hold his girlfriend as they spoke or readied themselves for bed. And if morning found himself wrapped around her, chest to her back with a leg and arm curled protectively about her than hey, nothing wrong with that.


Try as he might, he was still male, and an attractive male if he did say so himself. Much as he cared for and maybe even loved his girlfriend, he was really getting tired of waking up stiff and unsatisfied.

Liz’s giggle brought him out of his reverie, and he looked down at her to see her look upward at him. She raised on tiptoe to try and smooth down the unruly spikes that glistened with sweat.

“You look so cute,” she giggled again, messing with his hair a bit more before coming back down on her feet. One hand rested on his chest after she took off his Ray Bans and gently looped them around the nearest bedpost.

Oliver cocked an eyebrow and shook his head while deactivating the scrambler, pulling his girl in tighter, marveling at how this tiny package could fit so well within his body as she had done in his life.

“Cute, huh?” he breathed against her neck, bending down so he could smile against her skin while she trembled in his arms. He loved knowing how much he affected her by not really having to do much of anything. But Liz didn’t back down from the challenge he presented and stepped further against him, so they now were barely separated.

Locking her arms around his neck the best she could with the height difference, it pressed her small body arching in curving stretch against his body, fronts flush to rub against one another. He could feel the heat of her even through his leather vest, and he groaned when he realized Liz wasn’t wearing a bra under her shirt.

“Wicked vixen,” he hissed in appreciation before claiming her smirking mouth with his own, raising her up to his level, loving the feel of her legs wrapping about his waist and calves for an anchor.

“I learned from the best,” she sassed back as she giggled into the kiss, the action causing a pleasant reaction as their chests continued to rub against one another, and she relaxed him as she let him control the kiss. It was something he marveled at each day, even as the last few months and several extreme make out sessions had proven over and over how giving she was.

Oh, she took charge whenever she wanted, but she also had nothing against letting him lead. So much different than Lois, who was always competing with him to dominate, or any of the numerous debutantes who thought Victorian esque timidness mixed with dominatrix sluttiness was the way to go. Liz was content with allowing him free reign until she was ready for more or less, and then she made her needs known, without making him feel like she was demanding or dismissing his feelings and actions.

It was refreshing and just another reason he found himself sliding that slippery slope called love.

“Hmm…the best huh?” he smirked, moving to nip at her neck, and so missed the mischievous glint in her eye.

“Oh yes,” she lolled her head back as he nipped at that special spot where her neck and shoulder met. It had taken Max weeks to work up the courage to kiss her anywhere but on the lips, and he’d always missed that spot for some reason.

“Michael was a very good teacher,” she wiggled her eyebrows and affected a faux leer, smirking giggles turning to peals of laughter as Oliver gave a mock roar of protest and tossed her onto their bed. He was there to punish her with a deep, passion filled kiss that let her know his claim before she finished bouncing back up.

Her arms came around his powerful shoulders as he pressed against her, both sighing as he slid between her legs as if he belonged there and he deepened the kiss. Liz’s fingers tangled in his hair, urging him closer and reluctantly Oliver pulled back, gasping for air, and trying to affect a mock stern expression.

“Oliver,” Liz pouted in protest, her lips plump and eyes wide with arousal. Her long hair was askew and her chest rose and fell as she panted to catch her breath. Oliver did his best not to give in to the pout, he didn’t want to let her in on the fact that he melted at the sight of it everytime.

"Elizabeth?" he arched an inquiring brow, schooling his face into the polite, bland mask that the public saw.

Huffing in annoyance at her boyfriend's antics, Liz tried to once again pull him toward her for another kiss but Oliver wasn't having it. He was enjoying teasing the little wench, payback for the no bra and the Michael comment. At the thought of the moody artist teaching his Liz anything even remotely intimate, Oliver scowled and he bit her neck again, tongue darting out to soothe for a moment before outlining a trail from collarbone to sternum. He made sure to take time to nuzzle aside the unbuttoned portion of his -their, her- shirt and teasing the sides of both breasts in a slow, sensual licking as if he was sampling some premium grade ice cream.

Her giggles and wiggles beneath him stoked his ego but he was still a bit put out so he ignored her pleas in favor of his favorite pasttime -- making out with his girlfriend's body. His hands skillfully skimmed down the side of her body, teasing mercilessly, tickling the sides of her ribs and the top of her thighs all the way to the back of her knees on either side of him as he continued to suckle between the 'v' of her shirt.

It was Oliver's turn to groan as his right hand found on it's return trip up her leg and under the shirt that Liz was not just braless, but pantyless and it sent him into momentary shock. His prim and proper little scientist girlfriend who wore tank tops and sweats and belly baring camis was...commando, both ways?

"What's a matter, Queen, you forget what to do with a mostly naked woman in your bed?"

The soft taunt yanked him back to the present and the handful of incredibly pleased Liz Parker he held between his body and his bed. Narrowing his eyes, his playful, wicked smile crep across his lips and into his eyes, and slowly he reared back, lower body keeping her pinned in one spot and he removed his hand from utopia to grasp the zipper on his vest. With all the flair of runway model, or a very, VERY good stripper, Oliver slid his vest open, the skintight material clinging to skin glistening with sweat. Slowly, he peeled the green shirt apart, very much enjoying the darkened, intense glazed look that came over Liz's face as she focused on him, his hands, the perspiration hightlighted flesh, the noise the lycra and kevlar mix made as it released it's tight hold on his flesh with a sucking pop.

Liz's tongue came out to wet her lips and her chest rose and fell as her breathing increasesd, excitement rising and her own hands itching to re-familiarize the toned contours of his shoulders, back, neck, and chest. She knew better than to touch, Oliver was in control tonight, and she couldn't wait to see where this was going.

"What you need to ask yourself tonight is this: How bad do you want this?" Oliver cocked his head to the side, eyes glinting in challenge as his vest made it's way to the floor.


TBC ....


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