Bed of Wild Roses

Smiling Sean gazed at the shilhouette of his sleeping daughter. Evie had been very quiet during their meal and even gone to bed without asking for a story first. She was sleeping peacefully, blond hair fanning out on the pillow and one fists tucked beneath her chin. She was still sleeping in the same position she had favoured when she was a baby. Sean's smile became wistful.

She was still so small. So small and lost without her mother, even after three years. And still she carried on, more brave than he ever had been. Sean sighed, cursing himself as the door creaked. Slowly he pulled it close. Maybe there was some truth in Viggo's words. Maybe he really had to take some chances again.
He never noticed that he was smiling as he walked down the stairs, for a moment pondering what to do. His heart felt strangely light, as though a weight had been lifted from it. He almost grinned as he grabbed a jacket. He needed some inspiration for his story and the woods were exactly the place to find it. Whistling he closed the door behind him.


~**~


The world around him was bathed in a comfortable twilight, a warm spring gloom that could never be found in summer or autumn. The pale green leaves were already lush on some trees and glistened darkly in the shadowy light. Muted blossoms peaked up from the grass, greeting the late wanderer with shy colours. Sean did not think about where he was going, he just followed his feet, lost in his thoughts. Maybe, just maybe he could try to write a happy end for Sayphon and Tyrus. Maybe he could stop the dragon from destroying the whole village. His lips quirked upwards. At least that was something Viggo would like. And maybe it was a way to make up with his friend again. He hated it, but Viggo was his only friend and he already missed him. Missed the feeling of knowing that there was someone he could always call, at every day or night time. He stopped, as a clearing suddenly opened before him.

The grass beneath his feet was incredibly soft, even in spite of the occasional thistle. A single daffodil stood among wild thyme and cowslip, its kind yellow a memory of the already sunken sun. Bird wings rustled through the leaves on a soft wind, briefly leading his gaze upwards. Sean froze as his gaze finally came to linger on the stones. Big, grey stones, marred by age and moss formed something close to a circle right in the middle of the clearing. For some obscure reason the shrubbery stayed away from the grass and within and close to the circle were more flowers than on the whole rest of the clearing. Sean smiled. The witching stones, as he had called them in his stories. The stones that had inspired him to his first book, years ago, when he had first seen them on the day he proposed to Abigail. That night had been so magical, he had almost believed that these stones were a place where the realms of humans and fairies touched. A distant sadness mingled with the melancholic nostalgia in his heart. It was strange that he had kept the house, considering how many memories it held for him.

He frowned. Something was in the middle of the stone circle. Cautiously he crossed the clearing, wondering why he had decided not to wear his shoes. There were fewer thistles here, but somehow the earth beneath his feet was causing strange tingles in his skin. The forest grass was too warm for this time of the day and year. A darkened shilhouette lay on the ground, relaxing into the cushion of moss and flowers beneath it. Long, strong legs were entangled in spring flowers, wild roses caressed tanned skin, lush grass complimented a mop of brown hair. Sean gulped.
His gaze travelled along the legs of the stranger, over relaxed, yet firm buttocks and a strong back with well-developed shoulders. The stranger's face was half.hidden behind his shoulder-long hair. Only the tip of his nose, a tantalizing glimpse of strong cheek-bones and a peek of long, dark lashes showed. Sean felt the heat rising in his cheeks. The stranger was not only peacefully asleep, but also naked. Very naked.

He took another step forward, stopping again as the stranger stirred. Sleepy eyes opened, their brown orbs focusing on Sean with obvious confusion.
"Who are you?" the stranger asked, slowly sitting up.

The heat on Sean's cheeks almost exploded. Don't stare, he told himself, just don't stare at him. Don't look at anything of him that is beneath belt line. Dammit, don't stare!

"Who are you?" he asked back, ignoring the strange sensation the stranger's voice was evoking in him.

"I don't know." The stranger frowned. "Where am I?"

"You are in a wood at the outskirts of London." Sean explained, extending his hands and helping the other man to his feet. "My name is Sean."

"Hello Sean." The man smiled bemusedly at the jacket Sean was offering him. "What am I suposed to do with that?"

"Take it," Sean was sure that he was as red as a tomato by now, "You're not wearing anything. Put the jacket on. Where are you from?"

"I don't know, "the stranger frowned, "What is London?"

Sean's mouth dropped open, "You don't know what London is?"

"No," he shook his head, leaning against one of the stones. "I am tired."

Sean grinned as the man's stomach rumbled loudly. "Not only tired it seems."

The brown-eyed stranger smiled broadly, showing perfect teeth. "Yes, but I think I'm more tired than hungry. Why are you here?"

Sean's eyes almost disappeared into his hairline. "Shouldn't I be asking that question? What are you doing in the woods? Naked and alone?"

The man's frown was more confused than anything else he had ever seen. "I don't know. All I remember is going to sleep and then..." he shrugged again. "I don't know."

"So where were you when you went to sleep? Here?" He indicated the clearing, shaking his head at the same time, "It's difficult to believe that someone should chose to sleep here."

"I don't think I did," the man said slowly, shaking his head. "I don't remember anything but sleeping and waking up here."

"What about your family? Your friends? Where are they and where are you from?"

"I'm sorry," the man shook his head. "I just don't know."

"I see," Sean sighed deeply. Why did it always have to be him? At least the stranger didn't seem to be a threat. "Let's get you something to eat and call the police?"

"The police?" the man repeated, obviously still confused. "What is the police?"

"They'll know if someone reported you missing and where we can find your family or someone who knows you."

"Very well," the stranger nodded slowly, shivering despite the warm evening air. "Where can we find this police?"


~***~


Sean paced nervously up and down in front of his bedroom. Joe, as he had started to call the man in his thoughts for lack of a better name, was still in there, hopefully getting changed into some of Sean's clothes. Where had the other man come from? Who was he and how old was he? He looked younger than Sean but still seemed to be in his late twenties or early thirties. Who could know? It was just as plausible to assume that Joe looked considerably older - or younger - than he really was. His grin still struck Sean as boyish and somehow innocent. Sean paused, shivering. Joel's body however was anything but innocent. Or at least it evoked thoughts in Sean that were far from innocent.

No! Sean mentally kicked himself. He knew nothing about Joe and his seven-year-old daughter was sleeping upstairs, he was not going to lust after that man. He refused to. Unfortunately certain parts of his anatomy had other ideas.
"Fuck it," he growled, feeling himself blush again as the door opened. "Fuck..." he breathed.
He had wisely enough decided to give Joe one of his comfortable jogging suits, but no matter how loosely they fitted around his frame, they clung nicely to Joe's skin. Very nicely, Sean decided. The soft material hugged well-muscled, ling legs, spanned an admirable backside and looked simply delicious enough to eat alive.

Joe was frowning again. "What does this fuck word you keep on saying mean?"

"Nothing." Sean was quick to answer. "Are you still hungry?"

Joe cocked his head, waiting till his stomach had growled again. "I think I am," he said slowly, smiling, "Do you have some salad?"

"Sean groaned. "Please tell me that you're not a vegetarian!"

"What is a vegetarian?"

"Someone who doesn't eat meat."

"You mean someone who doesn't eat animals?"

"Exactly." Sean crossed his arms in front of his chest, raising an eyebrow at Joe. "So, are you?"

"A vegetarian?" Joe shrugged, "I guess so, yes."

"Okay..." Sean motioned for Joe to follow him, "Just come on to the kitchen, I'm sure we'll manage to find some rabbit fodder for you."

"Rabbit fodder?"

"Nevermind," Sean mumbled, "I merely meant that we'll manage to find something you'll be willing to eat."

"I see." Joe said. Somehow Sean doubted that. The other man was still looking more than just a little confused. But then again, how else were you supposed to look if you had just discovered that you had lost part of your memory? At least Sean hoped that it was only a part - and a small part at that. He didn't know how to deal with someone who had lost most of his memories, and he didn't want to learn now.


~***~


Joe was still sitting at the kitchen table, happily clearing off what was left of the strange flowery salad that had appeared in the kitchen earlier.

"This is delicious," the man commented round a mouthful of petals and tomatoes. "Did you manage to call this police person you wanted to speak to?"

Sean sagged into the chair opposite to Joe with a grimace. "Unfortunately, yes."

Joe's eyebrows raised immediately. "Unfortunately?"

"None of the persons currently missing looks like you," Sean squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. "They'll send someone along tomorrow morning, but until that they can do nothing for us."

"You said us," Joe slowly lowered the fork back to the table. "Does that mean you will allow me to stay in your house for the time being."

"Yes." Sean almost growled, green eyes narrowing. "But only till tomorrow morning. I want you out of here as soon as the police know who you are and where you came from."

"Of course." Joe forced a smile, resolutely pushing his plate away. "Where am I supposed to sleep?"

For just a moment Sean wondered about the wounded look on the other man's face as he turned, leading Joe towards the guest room. What had he said wrong this time?


~***~


"Oh fuck..." his groan echoed loudly through the too quiet room. Why was his head aching so much? He raised his hand, wanted to rub his throbbing temples and immediately rued his decision. Moving was not good. Not good at all.But he had not drunk anything last evening. He never drank when Evie was home. Wait... wasn't there something about Evie and... his brows knitted themselves into a deep frown... fairies? Yeah, that had to be it, something about Evie and fairies. What exactly had happened?

He forced himself to relax and start at the beginning. Yesterday had been an absolutely normal day. Till his fight with Evie. He frowned, effectively executing his alarm clock with a well-aimed blow. He had fought with Evie about those damned fairies.
Still grumbling to himself he forced himself to get out of bed and gather some of the clothes he had lost all over his room on his way to bed the night before. Suddenly he froze on the spot. What time was it? Damn, his alarm clock was ruined. The man he had found, Joe was still in the house.

"Bloody, fucking hell!" Sean almost managed to break his little toe, as he awkwardly struggled into his jeans. Where was Joe?


~***~


"Morning, dad!" Evie launched himself immediately at him as soon as she saw him. Dumbfounded Sean started ahead into the kitchen. The scene in front of him was almost absurdly peaceful.

The table was laid out for three persons, a jug of freshly pressed orange-juice stood next to a basket of what was obviously freshly-baked bread. Pieces of bananas and apples were arranged next to a plate of cheese, decorated with something that looked suspiciously like a daisy-chain.

"What is going on here?" He released Evie from the hug and ushered her towards the table.

"Karl made breakfast for us." Evie beamed, "Isn't it neat?"

"Karl?" Sean repeated incredulously. Hold a minute. "Didn't you tell me that your fairy friend was called Karl?"

"Yes." Evie's smile didn't even falter for a single second.

"So you are Karl," Sean forced his voice to remain neutral, if only for Evie's sake. "Since when have you known my daughter?"

"I don't know," Karl flinched under the cool, green glare. "I don't remember. But I don't mind being called Karl." He added quickly as Sean's glare became thunderous.

"Really." Sean rested his hands on his daughter's shoulders, trusting her to keep him grounded. "And you are a fairy."

"Of course not, dad," Evie sounded exasperated as she freed herself from her father's grasp and climbed onto the chair. "Fairies are a lot smaller and have wings." She frowned. "You should know, you always write about them. Karl's human."

"Is he now," Sean sat down, raising an inquiring eyebrow at the other man. "I guess we'd better have breakfast then." Hopefully the police would be able to solve some of this.