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#6: Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed? (A Marrick/Gemma drabble)

Okay, so hooo man, did this one get long in the writing. I’m not sure how long it took me because it was written mostly on my phone in moments I could steal in between doing other things. I did get about ten minutes to work on it when I started before...honestly I don’t remember what interrupted me, but something did. I also pounded away at it for a good fifteen minutes or so just now while eating dinner, so probably more than an hour, but not quite two, and as before I want to read it, reread it, rewrite it and reread it and rewrite it over and over again, but I’m doing my best to be strong.

Honestly, despite the panic of doing it in one take, so to speak, this one was just ridiculous fun to write. It’s a fanfic of a fanfic, which means I’m pretty far down the rabbit hole of the fandom at this point, but hey, Namesake is pretty great (and you should be reading it), and Warrickshipper’s fan content on the comment boards and off has just been amazing. So here we go, a fanfic of her satirical Marrick/Gemma fanfics (which you should go read now if you haven’t) with the absurdity and raciness perhaps turned up just a bit. Or an amazingly accurate prediction of how the forthcoming Girl’s Night Out storyline begins. Really, either is just as likely as the other, I’m sure.

Note: I hereby grant Isa, Meg and Warrickshipper CC Attribution license to use this fanfic in Namesake and any derivative works. This means they are free to use it for any purpose they care too, even commercial, and will owe no royalties for doing so. I actually wave the attribution portion. It would be nice if they did, but I never want them to even worry that I might fight them for attribution of something they came up with themselves. If you’re not one of those three, the standard Creative Commons non-commercial, attribution license applies to you. This means you can use my work for anything as long as it’s not for money and you give me credit. Feel free to ask about the commercial thing, though. I’ll likely happily change licenses for you if you’re not planning on changing the names and selling it as your own.

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” Marrick asked. The coolness in his voice, coolness like that of a cucumber, belied the strong emotions warring together within him. Nervousness, disbelief and want desperately clashed in his heart at the sight in front of him. He hadn't expected it. He would have never been able to bring himself to hope for it. He had just come into his room after a long, perilous day researching and found her there, covered only loosely by his bedsheets and nothing more.

“For you, Marrick.” Gemma whispered breathlessly. “Because I want you.”

“Oh Gemma.” He intoned. It felt wrong, but at the same time so right, and he wanted her then more than he'd ever wanted anything, but... “Can two people from two such different worlds ever make it work?”

"I know we can, Marrick," She answered, "because I want and also love you, and I know you want and also love me, and that's more powerful than anything."

"Oh, Gemma, I tried to hide it, but it's true. I do want and love you, but...why this?" Marrick asked, gesturing at the voluminous expanse of her body in front of him. "Why now, so suddenly?"

"I don’t know.” She admitted. “I’ve thought about you this way for a long time. Maybe I’m just tired of only thinking. Maybe I’m scared now that we’re finally going to the Gnomish Bazaar, and I want to do this before I risk losing the chance forever. Before I risk losing you. The thought terrifies me, Marrick”

"Frightened? You? I can't believe it. You never seem frightened of anything."

"I am frightened, Marrick. Frightened of what might be coming, that I might not be able to protect you all or somehow be a danger and also of that deep terrifying secret power you keep buried within you that also makes me feel safe somehow."

"I never wanted you to know about that power, Gemma. I never wanted anyone to ever know it." "But I want to know it, Marrick. I want to know all of you, every part in every way possible, if you know what I mean, and you should know what I mean because I am naked and lying in your bed in front of you.”

"Oh, Gemma, there's nothing I would want more, but my curse..."

"Our love is stronger than any curse, Marrick. Now come here and know me.” She breathed as she slowly slid his sheets to the side. “All of me."

Marrick slowly moved toward her as-

"Warrick!" Selva called from the end of the corridor outside his room, tearing Warrick away from his work. "What are you doing?"

"I wasn't...anything! What? No!" He sputtered in response.

"Ugh, are you writing slasher fic again?" She asked. He grimaced.

"That's slash fiction! Slasher flicks are those terrible earth movies about murder, and I would never write those!" He shouted back, and after a few moments added "And no, I'm not!"

He put his pen down, furiously stuffed his journal in his bag and immediately felt bad about its mistreatment. He slid the journal out and touched the cover gently. It was a beautiful thing, leather-bound, with a strong spine and paper made of bark that was said to somehow be lightly magical. While these were reasons enough to care for it, it was all the more precious because Emma had given it to him. He couldn't imagine how sick shopping for it must have made her, searching through stores most likely filled with scrolls and books. He had been searching for some way to return the favor since.

His reverie was broken by Elaine's voice in the hallway.

"Is he writing slash fic again?" She asked Selva.

"He says no." Selva answered.

"Warrick, stop writing slash fic and come out with us!" Elained suddenly shouted at him down the corridor. He grimaced. Why didn’t they just walk to his door and talk to him like normal people?

"Yeah, Warwick! Put your slasher flicks down for the night!" Selva shouted, joining in.”

"I am not writing slasher flicks!" He shouted back.

"Ooh, or bring it with you and let me read it!"

"Absolutely not!"

"Awww, come on! Does this one have more bits about Emma's 'heaving bosom?' Is that why you're embarrassed?"

"Gemma!"

"What?"

"The character's name is Gemma!"

"Yeah. Who is Emma!" Elaine shouted back, then turned to Selva. "Wait did he seriously write about my sister's 'heaving bosom?'”

He didn't hear Selva's answer, but a moment later Elaine shouted, "Stop writing about my sister's boobs, you dork, and come with us. Emma's coming too!"

"Gemma is a completely original character unrelated to anyone you know!"

"Oh god. Of course she is...Maaarriiick!" Elaine shouted, and for a while conversation halted on their end as the corridor filled with the sound of giggling.

“Can we stop talking about this?” He shouted, repacking his journal carefully and hurrying to the door. The sooner this conversation stopped being shouted next to his bedroom, the better.

“Only if you bring it with you and let me read it!” Selva shouted back.

"Last time you read one you laughed!"

"I only laughed because it was really bad!"

"First drafts are never good!"

"He has a point." He heard Elaine say.

Bless her. He thought

"Oh, whatever." Selva answered.

“Anyway, I’m coming! You can stop shouting at me now!” He shouted.

He opened the door, glad to be done with this when Selva’s shouting again made him pause.

“Oh! And I found out what you are.”

“What...what I am?” He asked, stopping in his tracks. Had she been doing some research without his knowing? Did this have something to do with his curse? Had it changed him fundamentally in some way he still hadn’t come to realize? Was he not an Ozite anymore?

“Nerrrd!” She called. He heard Elaine chortle and suddenly felt wholly unconcerned about her “discovery.”

“Nerd.” That was a new one. He wasn’t sure what it meant, but he was fairly certain he’d be annoyed when he found out.

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