Work Text:
Sweet Prince
by PEJA
"How's the headache?'
Recognizing the not quite human, not exactly fey, essence that had become the signature presence of one Detective Leonard Murdock since the episode on our last case, I didn't stir to peek out from under the ice bag over my eyes. Besides, if I was in any danger my protections, such as they are, would have jolted through my throbbing head and alerted me that I was in trouble and I had better get my ass off the sofa and take protection behind it.
As to how I can sense essence, well, I'm Connor Grey, once upon a time druid extraordinaire and now druid of the stifled powers thanks to an accident on a case that left me with an unidentifiable black spot in my brain that held my magic in check and made itself known by the constant, thump, thump, thump of a dull, never ending headache. In my heyday, I worked the crime unit of the Fey Guild. Now I sometime pick up spare change...well, rent money, by working as a consultant for the Boston PD. You ask what would a druid have to consult with the PD on? Well, since the Convergence, when the fey and magical creatures slipped through to this reality, Boston, the world in general really, has had to adjust to life with the folk of legend, especially dangerous in my little part of Boston, The Weird.
"Purring and sharpening its claws like a kitten at its mamma's breast." I told him. "Go 'way."
Mike's a detective for the Boston PD, my best friend and sometimes partner. Although we don't like to broadcast it in the case histories, he tends to drop in unexpectedly, when I need him the most. When the ever lingering headache starts to stir and rack its little black claws through my brain.
He chuckled at my grumpy reply and headed for the kitchen.
"Don't leave a mess," I shouted after him, knowing the man would trash the immaculate counters in spite of what I said. It didn't matter that he was only in it minutes. It was like messiness was drawn to him like a magnet and metal.
"Don't shout. It makes you're head ache worse." He threw back at me. I could hear the indulgent laughter in his voice with each word.
Listening to the rattling and clattering happening in my kitchen, I winced and muttered about the willfulness of overly helpful friends and lovers.
"Where'd you hide the lavender leaves?"
I would have rolled my eyes but doing so would have sent stabbing knife thrusts through me, so I simply told him, "Same place you found it last time. Its called keeping a clean house, something you could benefit from."
"Ah, there you are."
I heard the clink of spoon on teapot as he added the hidden in plain sight leaves to the water.
I felt Murdock saunter back into the living room and then he was tapping my shoulder. KNowing it wouldn't do any good to protest, I tossed the icebag aside and sat up letting him slide in behind me, cradling me between his long legs. He eased me back against his chest and his fingers found my temples, gently massaging.
"Good?"
The sigh his magic fingers pulled out of me was acknowledgment enough.
His lips found the crook of my neck and my body melted into a puddle of goo against him, not actual dripping goo, that would have been gross, but the human equivalent of boneless pleasure they call goo.
I couldn't help it. His tender manipulation of my body, the sweet scent of lavender in the air. My eyes drifted shut and I felt sleep's gentle arms embrace me.
As the darkness took me, I heard Murdock's sweet chuckle as he said, "Guess the tea will wait, Sweet Prince." in my ear.
In his arms, I could almost forget the cruel barbs hurled at me under the pretense of banter by the folks I used to call friends and believe I was the prince he called me, and maybe I was...in his eyes.
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