Thread: Que Sera, Sera (random fics)

UntitledUnfinished Theon had never meant for it to happen. He could vividly recall the first time he had met her. It was a birthday party for one of the brats he didn't care to recall which one and she had been there with her well-to-do, hippy, mind-raping, smarmy prick of a father. Theon didn't know who he disliked more. That sullen bastard Snow or his lady-boy 'partner'. From the moment he had laid eyes on Brady, he had known that they wouldn't get along. The invasion of personal space was one thing but the guy and he used that term lightly had quite the mouth on him. Better men had been clocked into the next century for simply existing and this pretty boy worked his last nerve. But Theon had put up with him. Why? Because he was Jon Snow's pet and Jon Snow just happened to be his best friend's brother. As a rule, Theon cared little for the opinion of others and even less for these so-called unwritten rules between men but he had known the Starks since he was about 8 and despite everything, he had grown up with Jon Snow. Perhaps he would even have been a little bummed if the bastard croaked. One could never know these things and Theon Greyjoy didn't like to share. So he had put up with everything which was well enough because there was a difference between stomaching someone and being friendly. The kids had been too young to pick up on the not-so-subtle jibes they traded and fuck that brainiac for always one-upping him. He reminded him of a half-man he once knew, only much, much worse. Theon had never enjoyed those pointless social gatherings, especially when they happened for the sole purpose of celebrating a kid's birthday. He didn't like kids. He never would. He had only ever put up with Bran and Arya and the like because of Robb and even as an adult he was pandering to another generation of Starks. He supposed it came with practically living in their mansion as a teen. The Starks were decent people and Theon's lady-friend because girlfriend wasn't his style had nagged until he had decided it was better to agree before he cock-slapped her into a permanent silence. That would have been nice if not for the fact that he did enjoy a healthy screamer and scream she did. He had gone and only barely acknowledged the youngins. His place had been with Robb and the others and the kids were thankfully kept at an agreeable distance though they were always loud. But then she had wandered into their little circle with that petulant look that he would have slapped right off of her face had she been his own child. She had certainly been cute enough but in that sickeningly perfect way like a little cherub. She had those golden ringlets of hair and big blue eyes that appeared to suck the best of them in. Theon hadn't understood what the fuss was all about. She was just another kid to be annoyed with but even Robb had seemed taken with her. It was only when she had locked eyes on him with a rather severe look that he had been forced to put his drink down and stare right back. I know you, she had piped in her high-pitched five-year-old's voice, You're Theon. He had glanced sideways at Robb as if expecting something before nodding. What of it? He could feel Snow's eyes on him as if daring him to mistreat the brat. Well, with everyone watching, he couldn't have done that anyway. My daddy says you're the reason the world has ruh...-ruh-stray-ning orders. Theon blanched as if someone had just kicked him in the gut. The laughter that followed had rang in his ears long after a very embarrassed looking Snow had glared at his fairy of a boyfriend and carted the lippy brat off. If he hadn't been surrounded by witnesses, he would grabbed the little genius and dragged him outside to show him what a real man could do when he put his mind to it. Fortunately for him, Theon had smiled the insult off. She was just a kid, after all. A kid couldn't wound a Greyjoy's pride. Over the years, he had seen her several times. If it wasn't a party it was Christmas, if it wasn't Christmas it was an anniversary. Whatever the case, she had gone from mouthy kindergartner to mouthy teenager. She was definitely a looker, he had to admit. She had that classic clean-cut beauty to her with the straight nose, high cheekbones and tumble of blonde waves and easily the best set of legs he had ever seen. Even Sansa seemed rather plain in comparison which was always cause for a chuckle. It was only the smile that reminded him of her age, complete with angelic dimples. If Theon had been about 20 years younger, he might have taken his chances. Not that he was doing bad for himself. He was well into his 40s but one would ever know. Still, he wasn't 20 years younger and silent, grudging admiration of her good looks was all he would allow. While nearly all of his friends had at last settled down and started families fo their own, Theon had remained a bachelor which didn't come as a surprise to anyone, including himself. He hadn't been made for commitment and the Greyjoys were both proud and dysfunctional. It ran in his blood. He couldn't keep a relationship lasting for more than a couple of months and most of the chicks he bothered with only stuck around for the sex. But he did flirt. Even Evanna wasn't safe from his advances, harmless though they might have been. He had only ever hit on her in front of Snow to elicit some sort of reaction. The bastard was entertaining like that. No one really approved. Even Arya told him off from time to time but it was Robb and Robb alone who vouched for him. Of course, he could have done it in a nicer way. Pointing out that Theon was quite scummy and philandering and downright dishonest at times hadn't flattered him in the least but at least he had the good sense to point out that Theon would never have stooped so low. Theon had been accused of being a lot of things, most of which had some merit, but a paedophile wasn't one of them. There wasn't enough money in the world for him to bed a 16 year old, certainly not one who could almost have been considered his niece by default. He was a little more involved in the affairs of the Starks and the Fitzgeralds than he would have liked. But it had still come as a surprise when his doorbell had been rung repeatedly some time after midnight during that endless summer. Theon was disagreeable enough to begin with but when woken up from a fairly pleasant dream, he was downright nasty. He had considered ignoring his nighttime visitor all together but the annoying chime had come one after the other until he had been forced to rise and walk himself to the front door, fully prepared to tell off whoever was on the other end. It had come as a complete shock to find a middle-aged police officer standing beside a stricken-looking Evanna. His annoyance had turned to confusion but the story had begun to piece itself together quickly enough. Is this your daughter? the cop had asked, calmly explaining that she had been one of the main hosts of a very rowdy party several blocks off that had resulted in many complaints about noise and general ruckus. As she conveniently didn't have any identification on her, they had decided to kindly drop her home and here she was, ready for a grounding she'd remember for the rest of her life. If he hadn't been half-asleep, he might have smiled as he always did at the hilarity of the situation. Evanna had looked so desperate and for a split-second, he had seen her father there in her place and the feeling had nearly gone to his cock. Such power. In the end, he had confirmed that she was indeed his daughter and that he would see to it that she didn't leave the house until she was married. Thanking the officer for doing his job well, Theon had closed the door behind him and turned to face her. The silence that fell between them had been brief before she had begun to ramble endlessly. The begging and pleading to not tell her parents had gone on for longer than he could stomach. He had politely told her to shut up and asked what he considered to be a very reasonable question. Why him? The question had seemed to genuinely trump her for a good while until she had shrugged and sheepishly replied that he had been the first person that came to mind. He had fixed her with a blank look and told her not to get comfortable because he was going to drive her home and if it hadn't been the middle of the night, her response might have proved quite comical. No! she had screamed in horror, grabbing his arm in her small but vice-like hands, You can't. I came here because I thought you were cool enough to let me get away with this. Y'know, you're the guy who doesn't care about any of that stuff. You're like the anti-grownup. You can't take me home tonight. You can't tell them! Theon had glanced down at her hand on his arm to which she had carefully recoiled. He shifted his weight restlessly. I can't? he had repeated, deadly calm. Please don't, she had backtracked, looking close to tears, I promise I'll leave first thing tomorrow and never bother you again. Ever. Theon had been both impressed and annoyed by her assumptions. To allow her to spend the night would have been poor judgment and really a burden he had no intentions of bearing but it in the end, it was the tears that had sealed the deal. Theon Greyjoy didn't do tears. They made him very uncomfortable. He had agreed to let her stay and promised to drive her home in the morning if it meant that she'd shut up and stay out of his way. The awkward and unexpected hug that had followed had been highly unwelcome but she had pulled away before he could shove her off. Theon Greyjoy didn't do hugs either, unless there was something in it for him. She had been dressed in a this little black number that he suspected had not been the outfit she had worn upon leaving Jon Snow's line of sight. Knowing she would probably have bitched about wrinkling her designer crap, he had disappeared and promptly reappeared holding an old shirt of his which he tossed at her. Uh... thanks, she had replied with no hint of actual gratitude in her tone, Do you have a spare toothbrush? No. Use your finger. Whether or not she had heeded his advice was irrelevant but when she had locked herself in the bathroom, Theon had busied himself in the kitchen. He had known from all the years of sleeping over at the Starks' that Sansa was a lot less bitchy when she had a warm cup of milk to help her sleep at night and he could see the parallels between the auburn-haired diva and his new ward. Better to quell the hurricane long before it had a chance to strike. She had remerged from the bathroom, fresh-faced and drowning in the oversized t shirt he had loaned. Her legs had looked longer and fitter than ever but he had said nothing and thrust the cup at her like he intended to throw the scalding milk in her pretty face. The look of surprise had not gone unnoticed but she had smiled for the first time that night and he had taken that as a small victory. Tomorrow's Sunday and if you wake me up before noon, I'll be driving you back home in a casket. Got it? She had nodded and seemed unperturbed by his grumpy tone. The smile had reached her eyes and Theon had been forced to remind himself that he was a tired old man who needed his sleep but for what seemed like the umpteenth time, she had cut in with more words. Women and their words. Thanks for letting me stay the night, she had said, having the good sense to look humbled while she tucked her blond hair behind her ear, And thanks for not ratting me out to my dad. Theon didn't need to know which one she spoke of. Snow was crazy protective for reasons he couldn't fathom. Then again, he didn't have a daughter to care for and never would. He couldn't perceive things from a father's eyes. He had waved off her thanks and watched her settle down onto his expensive leather couch. Being torn between sleeping and leaving a teenager alone in his living room had been quite the battle but inevitably he had decided to keep watch until she went to bed. If worse came to worst, he could order her to sleep. She was the kid and he was the adult. It was a beautiful hierarchy. The silence that had followed had been broken by awkward and forced comments about the decor. Theon didn't need her praise. He was a lazy bachelor but he also had picky women in his life who insisted on furnishing for him. It wasn't a bad deal. At least he got laid. Whenever Theon looked back on this particular incident, he found himself frowning because even after all this time, he couldn't say for sure what had compelled her to do what she did. One second she was asking how much the couch had run him and the next she was setting her cup aside and brazenly mentioning how understanding he was with a look in her eyes that would have had him squirming if he wasn't who he was. Yeah, that was Theon all right. The voice of reason in these troubled times for the youth of America. All he knew for certain was that he didn't care for the way she had looked at him. Or rather, he did care which made it that much worse. He had excused himself and made a beeline for his bedroom. With the promise of being rid of her on the morrow, he had settled under the sheets and found that sleep would not come so easily. It didn't matter. It hadn't taken her that long to join him. He had been in that halfway state where he was not quite asleep but very close to it when she had tiptoed into his room and crawled under the sheets with him. It was really the feel of her small breasts pushing up against his arm that had really roused him. At first, Theon had been certain that he was dreaming. There was no way she would have the nerve to be in bed with him but her touch was real enough and he had felt boneless. The bare skin of her legs had felt like silk against his own and her hands had been gliding up and down his torso with growing certainty. It had been dark, too dark to get a good look into her eyes and before long, Theon's body had begun to betray him and the kraken was being released. Only when her hand had begun to travel south did he summon such willpower that he had never known. He had grabbed her dainty wrist harder than he had intended but there was no mercy in his eyes. Though she couldn't see the storm brewing in his grey eyes, her trembling, coupled with a soft gasp had been a pretty good indicator that she understood. No, he had stated firmly, trying his hardest not to tremble right along with her. And that was that. Or so he would have liked to think. The years that followed were torturous. Theon didn't want to believe that he could develop actual feelings for someone who had still been breastfeeding when he was already establishing a career. But he couldn't ignore all the sleepless nights of wondering how she would have tasted had he gone down on her. Sometimes he could still feel her hands on his skin and he was certain he would never meet a woman with a pair of legs quite so lovely. They would have wrapped around him so well while he drove into her and the sound of his name would never have sounded so sweet as she chanted it. But Evanna Fitzgerald was Jon Snow's daughter. She was Robb Stark's niece... And Theon Greyjoy was an old man. He'd bury these evil thoughts if it was the last thing he ever did.