#alice cunningham

[phantomstatistician]

Fandom: Agatha Christie’s Poirot

Sample Size: 152 stories

Source: AO3

[rainpuddle13]

I'll do everyone a favour and ask about

8. KQ Philip's Shirt

I honestly didn’t think anyone remembered Killer | Queen. This makes so happy!  Thank you, @letterfromtrenwith, for making my day with this ask!

Naughtiness behind the cut...

~~**~**~**~~

“Take off your shirt,” Alice commanded, smacking his questing hand away from her backside and frowning now that she could see the extent of Philip’s injuries in the harsh light of the kitchen, “and sit down.  I need to see to those ribs.”

“It’s not all that bad,” he murmured, surprising her by doing as he was told for once and took a seat at the head of the long table.  She could feel his dark eyes fixated on her as she moved about the room gathering supplies. 

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she said sternly, undoing his tie and pulling the vermillion patterned silk free from his neck to drape across the chair next to him.  He’d worn it that evening because he knew it was her favorite.

He huffed and started undoing the buttons of his navy blue striped waistcoat. “Since when did you become not fun?”

“When you nearly got knifed right in front of me,” she answered. “So don’t try to tell me it’s nothing.”  Maggie, God bless her, had restocked the cupboard with the basic first aid supplies Alice would need to see to Philip. “Once I’ve wrapped your ribs, I’ll see about getting a steak for your eye.”

“I’d much rather you kiss me.” He nabbed her by the hips, spinning her to face him and tugging her forward to stand between his spread knees, a rakish grin on his handsome face.

“Philip Padraig!” she cried, squirming to escape, and feeling his big, warm hands sliding up the back of her thighs.  “What has gotten into you?”

“More like what’s about to get into you…” he chuckled, his fingers busily working under the silk of her knickers.

Alice smacked lightly at his shoulder to see if he would straighten up, knowing how hard he was to resist when he was in such a playful mood.  Now was not the time for his funny business, so she told him in no uncertain terms while trying to untangle herself from his grasp,  “You going to bed as soon as we’re done here.”

“Are we?” he queried, hazel eyes twinkling dangerously, causing her stomach to flutter. “I’d rather fancied fucking you right here on the table.”

“Did you now?” she asked, and busied herself with sorting the bandages on the table so she wouldn’t have to look at him. There was nothing she loved more when he was demanding of her, and he knew it. Plus his blackening eye made him look exceptionally roguish. She liked that, a lot. The truth was she wanted him to take her on the table, be rough with her, leave fingerprint bruises on her thighs where he’s gripped her hard as he fucked her, making her scream when she finally came. She wanted that more than anything.

Philip smiled slowly when he lifted her easily to sit on the edge of the table, sliding his hands down to her knees to spread her legs wide so he could step between them. It was as if he knew exactly what she’d just been thinking. “You were saying?”

“I wasn’t,” she said, trying desperately for some semblance of control.  He was hurt. She had to see to his injuries. The only problem was Philip wasn’t playing fair, not that he ever did.  “Your ribs.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed, tugging roughly on the black sand crepe silk skirt she wore to pull it out of the way.  She froze when he very tenderly nipped the fluttering pulse point on the right side of her neck, trying to stave off the explosion of desire when his fingers slipped between the slick folds of her sex. Alice was helpless to resist the onslaught. “You want me,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I can feel it, smell it.”

“God damn you,” she growled in frustration, grabbing at the buckle of his belt, fingers fumbling with the task in her haste to get to her hands on his cock.

Philip laughed and pushed her hands away to undo the belt himself, leaving the trousers to hang low on his hips. “Impatient, impatient.”

“Off!” she ordered, grabbing at the fine cotton of his crisp dress shirt. “I want to see you.”

“I think I like you like this,” he remarked, clearly amused, as he slowly undid enough buttons he could pull both his dress shirt and undershirt off together, dropping them to the floor. “All needy and demanding.”

She dragged her hands over his chest and down his stomach, scritching her nails in the thick, dark mat of hair covering the hard muscles underneath and smirking when she could feel his stomach quiver.  “Oh, yeah?” she purred, hooking her feet behind his thighs, not even bothering to kick off her stilettos.  “Then show me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a smirk, reaching for the neckline of the sheer bronze blouse and ripped it open to expose the ivory silk camisole beneath.  He mumbled what she thought was “so beautiful” before burying his face between her breasts, taking turns to nip and suck each globe of flesh lovingly until she was arching her back and clinging to his shoulders for dear life. 

“Oh God, yes!” Alice mewled breathlessly, need coursing through her veins with each pounding beat of her heart. 

[rainpuddle13]

I am so excited by the 11 items in your WIP folder. I simply can't make up my mind because Ex Libris 7 is dangling in front of my eyes. But, KQ Africa 1937.....I just have to know. 😘

I always keep coming back to this chapter and pecking at it from time to time. It’s a very emotional one.

So here is a little snippet...

~**~**~**~

She stood in the middle of the room, tilting her head to one side as she looked the American over. Philip could see her mind working, turning the situation over and over, examining it from all sides, choosing the right course of action. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Alice had taken the time to make herself presentable.  There hadn’t been much she could do about the filthy and bloody trousers and linen blouse she wore, but she’d washed her face and hands, applied her favorite China red lipstick, and neatened her hair. She was going to do this on her terms, in her own way, and he could respect that.

The object of her intense scrutiny hadn't bothered to lift his head when she had come in and she in turn regarded him with unconcealed contempt. Philip knew she'd been shaken to the core by her ordeal, but he hadn't realized just how much until he could see her hands clenched so tightly into fists her knuckles had turned white.  He motioned for Brody to wait outside.  Alice wouldn’t want him to witness what was about to go down.

"You don't have to do this, Alice," Philip said quietly to her. "I can-"

"No, I have to do it," she cut him off immediately. "I have to."

He nodded and offered her his loaded pistol, figuring she'd want this nasty bit of business done quickly, and was surprised when she shook her head and reached for the large hunting knife he had strapped to his thigh.  She dared him to say something as she unsheathed the blade from the brown leather holster, but Philip knew better - a single shot to the head would not satisfy her thirst for retribution. This was way deeper, more personal. All he could do is stand by and make sure nothing went amiss.

“I guess sweet little kittens do have nine lives,” came the Yank’s voice with a weary chuckle, glancing Philip’s way out of the corner of his eye.  “Thought for sure this one was dead. Were you glad to have your pussy back, Lombard? She doesn’t look too bad for the wear.”

[rainpuddle13]

Hi honey bun, for the WIP GAME “bath”. 👏🏼👍🏼❤️

I dusted off a WIP from Killer | Queen for this one! I don’t think you’d mind a little Philip Lombard and Alice Cunningham action...

Philip sat on the edge of the bathtub, hoping against hope that she’d cooled down after their almighty row a few hours earlier. All hopes had been dashed when she’d thrown a sopping wet sponge at him. “For fuck’s sake, Alice, be reasonable.”

“No.” She huffed in his direction, and rose like a siren from the deep to step from the water, both gloriously beautiful and exceedingly dangerous. His eyes traveled from freckle dappled shoulders to the small of her back, lingering on a long jagged scar along her side that marred the otherwise perfect alabaster skin as she toweled herself dry. It was his fault she was irrevocably marked, forever a reminder of his folly a number of years ago.  “I could kill you with my bare hands right now,” she growled.

He believed her too, his darling kitten, and he had to bite back his natural inclination to challenge her. Anger was often a form of foreplay for them, but he could sense now was not the time to bait her. “I know you’re angry.”

“Angry?” she hissed. “Angry doesn’t even begin--”

“I said I’m sorry.”  Philip plucked the dusty pink silk dressing gown from the rack to hold out for her to slip into, but instead she breezed past him into their bedroom. Even naked as the day she was born, his Alice was a force to be reckoned with.

“Two years, seven months, and twenty-four days,” she said with a sigh, slipping into another wrapper, this time a seafoam green one, she’d plucked from the wardrobe and took a seat at her vanity to brush out her hair. 

“What?” He lingered in the doorway, giving her some wary distance. There was at least one handgun and two knives that he knew of hidden amongst her toiletries in the various drawers. His kitten liked to be prepared.

“You swore to me we were done with Africa,” Alice said, catching his eyes in the reflection of the mirror.

“Keeping count?” he asked defensively, crossing his arms and hardening his stance. 

Alice carefully put down her silver handled hairbrush to turn around and face him. The hard look in her blue eyes would make a better man retreat.  “You think I could forget?” she hissed.

“Of course not.”  He still had nightmares about the last time he’d stepped foot on the Dark Continent with Alice in tow to settle a score. He’d nearly lost her forever in the hot, sultry jungle in the middle fucking hell on earth.

“Then how could you?”  

“It’s easy money, and we could use it,” he countered, hoping against hope she’d see reason, and the set of her mouth told him she was thoroughly unimpressed by his answer. “There is a war brewing.”

“All the more reason not to go.” she said, standing her ground. “We can go to New York. It’s far enough away and there should be plenty of work.”

“After, kitten.” He chanced going to her, kneeling before her and taking her hands in his. “We’ll go immediately after I’m back from Marrakesh. I promise.”

Alice drew in a death breath and closed her eyes. “Then I cannot promise I’ll be here when you return.”

[rainpuddle13]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: And Then There Were None (TV 2015), Agatha Christie's Poirot (TV), CHRISTIE Agatha - Works Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Alice Cunningham/Philip Lombard Characters: Philip Lombard, Alice Cunningham Additional Tags: Drama, Romance Series: Part 6 of Killer | Queen

Summary:

If you should die before me, ask if you can bring a friend.

[superanchorbouquet]

[rainpuddle13]

So this weekend I fully intended to write smut, possibly pool table smut, but then Philip had other ideas... This is what happened instead:

“Alright. First person murdered.”

“Edmund Reddington.”

“And he was?”

“A Protestant bastard.”

“Oh.” His deep-seated hatred of the British in Ireland always took her by surprise when it came up, and it shouldn’t as she knew he’d had dealings with the IRA years before he’d met her. She just didn’t know to what extent since getting anything out of him about his life before her was like trying to get blood from a stone.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, brushing a kiss to the top of her head, “but you asked.”

“I know.” She hated the small niggling of fear that would rear it’s ugly head from time to time about Philip. He had never given her pause for concern since their first night together when he’d confessed he had given thought to killing her, but had changed his mind for reasons known only to him. The fact remained that she was about as British and Protestant as one could get and Philip was a dangerous, unpredictable Irishman. It would be foolish to forget that no matter how in love with him she was.

He had been quiet for a while before he spoke again and the silence was beginning to unnerve Alice as she tried to gauge his thoughts. “It’s got nothing to do with you,” Philip assured her, pulling her a little closer into his side. “You have to know by now I’d never do anything to cause you harm.”

“How’d you know what I was thinking?” she asked him, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder.

“Because I know you almost better than I know myself,” he confessed, and she knew he spoke the truth.

“That you do, " she leaned up to press a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth, “and it scares me sometimes.” Since he was being honest, she might as well be too. Quid pro quo.

“I’m sure you know my thoughts more often than not.”  He offered her his glass of whisky and she shook her head, finding the Scotch whisky too raw for her tastes.

“I don’t most of the time,” she acknowledged softly, feeling very inadequate.  “You’re so very good at keeping yourself closed off, even from me.”

He heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry, kitten.  It’s a habit of self-preservation.”

“I figured as much.” Alice could only speculate about his upbringing from the very few bits of information Philip had let slip about his childhood. His father had died when he was young. His mother had gone to work in the kitchen of the manor house near their village. He’d had gone to school until he was fourteen and did odd jobs around the estate to earn the fees. His life had been so very different than hers. “I do know when you’re angry though,” she said with a small little smile.

“Is that so?” Philip sat the glass down and reached for his cigarette case.

“Aye,” she answered, playfully mimicking his accent and reached up to touch the sharp line of his jaw. “You clinch your teeth. I can see it here, a small little tick.”

“I didn’t know I did that,” he said, sounding bemused by her observation. “I guess it’s my tell.”

“No,” she was quick to say, “no, it’s barely noticeable if you don’t know what to look for.”

Damn character development. *sigh*

[rainpuddle13]

Daily Philip and Alice #4! Slight change of pace from previous posts. Bonus because it fulfills @sivsdotter ‘s minific request for P/A and undercover of darkness! Go me!

“Philip?” Alice asked in the quiet darkness. “Are you awake?”

He drew in a sharp breath and tightened his arm around her midsection, forcing his eyes open. The room was dimly lit and the gauzy bed curtains shifted like pale specters in the gentle breeze from the open windows. It was their last night in civilization for a few weeks.  He brushed a tender kiss against her bare shoulder and was rewarded with a soft purr. “What’s wrong, love?”

“I can’t sleep,” she whispered.

That wasn’t surprising.  He too had been unable to sleep the night before he ventured into the heart of the Dark Continent for the first time, having grown up reading Edgar Rice Burroughs and H. Rider Haggard adventure novels, the expectation had hardly lived up to the reality.  That how things usually turned out, only now his life had taken an unexpected upturn since she’d come into his world. He nuzzled his nose in the silky curls at the nape of her neck, resigning himself to get up if he had to. “Do you want a glass of whiskey?”

“No,” she answered, wiggling back against him until his cock was nestled firmly against the curve of her bum and he stirred a little at the intimate contact.  “Can I ask you something and you’ll be honest?”

“Of course,” he said, unsure of where she was going with this line of questioning.

“Is it true there are spiders as big as dinner plates in the jungle?” Alice shuddered as she asked the question.

He laughed hard enough to shake the entire bed at her unexpected question and earned himself a very sharp elbow to the ribs for it. "Yeah, there are, but at least you can see them. It's the things you can't see you need to worry about more. Nasty buggers, all of them - the croc hiding in the reeds while you’re trying to wash, or the lion stalking you in the dark while taking a piss, or the snake making itself comfortable in the pack you carelessly left open..."

"And you want to take me there," she accused, clearly feeling a bit aggrieved. "I think you just want to get rid of me where no one will ever find my body because something horrible with big fangs ate me."

"Oh, Alice, you’re so adorable," he chortled, pulling her over onto her back and moving to pin her beneath his long, lean body before setting to work playfully nipping and biting at her neck and shoulders until she was a squirming, giggling mess.  "I'm the only thing with big fangs allowed to eat you."

@shiparker @alicebhatt @mmmuses