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A Magical Wedding	By : TheShadowCat Category: G through L > Hellboy Views: 4671 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hellboy, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 14
- 15
- 16
Disclaimer: I don’t own the rights to Motrin or Tylenol.

Maggie is in that place between sleeping and awake where dreams and the real world come together. Her sleep fogged brain barely registers the bed shifting as someone joins her. However, her mind does recognize that a warm moist body has just sidled up to her.

He gladly lies on his back as she cuddles up to him resting her head on his chest just under his chin. She happily sighs as she relaxes into him and starts to drift back to sleep. He starts rubbing her in all the right places to make her wake up and she growls her disapproval.

“It’s time to get up, my love,” he whispers into her hair.

She tries to escape his caresses by repositioning herself, but that just exposes another area to be groped. Soon, he can hear and feel her breath become faster and more ragged and small whimpers escape her lips as she attempts to burry her face deeper into his chest. He smiles to himself as he continues his assault.

“Abe, please,” she begs.

He slightly shifts their bodies so that they’re lying on their sides facing each other and then grabs her top leg, pulling it over his hip. After getting her into position, he reaches between her legs and starts to gently massage her clit. She gasps in surprise as she closes her eyes and throws her head back. He takes advantage of the exposed neck and begins to nibble on the newly revealed flesh.

Mewls of pleasure are only interrupted by ragged drawing of breath as she pushes herself into his hand. He answers her need by going faster and harder. All too soon, she cries out her completion as the leg around his waist tightens trapping his hand between their bodies and against his erection.

As soon as the convulsions abate and her leg relaxes, he slides away from her, pulling her forward onto her stomach as he does so. He sits up and pulls off her panties that are wet with her desire and throws them off to the side. He separates her legs and positions himself between them.

He grabs himself and moves his erection at the entrance of her hot wet core. He slides into her eliciting a whimpering moan from her. Balancing his weight on his arms like a long skinny blue seal, he starts to move in and out of her causing her to slightly arch her back and to fill the room with her cries.

She grabs her pillow in a death grip as she feels the pressure building again as he continues to thrust into her. The force of his pushes is causing delightful friction between the sheets and her nipples, pushing her even closer to the edge. Suddenly, he picks up the pace and she can feel herself hurtling over the edge screaming his name.

She lies there panting; sweat starting to trickle down her brow as she tries to recover from his latest assault. She’s barely aware of being rolled onto her side until he presses himself up to her. He starts to kiss the sweat from her face and she’s made aware of something hard pressing into her thigh.

His kisses and caresses become more demanding and she begins to respond very favorably to them. Her hand begins wander until it comes in contact with the rock hard item currently trying to burrow its way through her thigh. She wraps her fingers around it, starts to stroke, rubbing a thumb over the tip and causing him to throw his head back and gasp. She takes advantage of the exposed neck and begins to nibble on the newly revealed flesh.

“Maggie, please,” he begs.

“Need you inside me,” she whispers just before she kisses a gill.

Suddenly, he pulls away and she finds herself on her side with her upper leg being held straight up into the air. He kneels over the leg still on the bed as he rests the heel of the other leg against his shoulder. He slides into her again as she scrabbles to find some part of him to touch, eventually grabbing onto the only part she can reach: his leg.

He grabs the headboard to brace himself and starts to pump into her, noisily shaking the bed with their love making. She caresses his thigh, encouraging him along as her groans fill the room. The new angle sends her to new heights while he pounds into her and her mind goes blank.

He absorbs her heat like a dry sponge absorbs water and it’s drawing him closer to the edge. He lets one hand go of the headboard and starts to caress her body and leg with the now free hand loving the feel of her sweat slicked skin.

“Please, Abe,” she pleadingly moans. “Oh, god, please. So close.”

Her urging makes him start to go faster, slamming into her as hard as he can. Her cries echo off of the walls as her back arches and her body starts to spasm with her climax. He grabs a hold of her thigh as he gives one final thrust, feeling his own orgasm take a hold of his body.

He collapses, landing on the bed next to her, still holding onto her leg. She lies there whimpering as she starts to pull on the hand that’s still clinging to her. A throbbing in his head makes it hard to concentrate on what she’s doing.

“Abe, please let go,” she desperately beseeches, but he can’t hear her because of the pain.

A good minute later, the thudding in his brain reduces to a more manageable level and he’s finally able to take in his surroundings again. Maggie is lying beside him curled into a ball crying tears of pain into her pillow and his hand is being held in place at a rather uncomfortable angle.

He can feel that her thigh and head are hurting, so he looks down at his hand to see he’s suction cupped his hand to her again and it’s hurting her while his own leg aches in sympathy. He tries to open the suction cups a little bit more, and luckily, this time they easily release her.

He sees the round welts on her leg and looks around for the bottle of liniment oil he put on the nightstand last night. Finding the container where he left it, he pours some of the liquid onto her thigh and then starts to work it into the sore spots. Soon the welts will reduce to mere bruises, matching the ones already on her hips. He closes both sets of eye lids and sighs.

“Why didn’t you tell me I had hurt you?” she asks in a choked whisper.

He looks up into her red rimmed, blood shot eyes and cocks his head to one side. With the dull throbbing still echoing through his head, he’s having a hard time concentrating. She sits up and touches his head, causing him to wince in pain and his head to slightly spin.

She sits up a bit more until she’s sitting with her legs crossed and then pulls his head into her lap. He doesn’t fight as she gently caresses the skin around the bump on the back of his head. His body shakes with a combination of too much air, pain and exhaustion. He knows he should get back in the water, but he’s not sure he can get there by himself.

“Can you walk?” she questions as her strokes start to go down his neck and back.

“I don’t know,” he answers after doing a quick self check.

“I’ll fill the tub and then help you get in,” she states.

She carefully slides out from under his head and then slips out of the bed. As soon as her feet touch the cold floor, her legs nearly give out. She catches herself just in time on the edge of the bed as he tries to reach for her but is stopped by a renewed wave of pain. He gasps as his body shakes even harder.

“Stay put,” she orders. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

She staggers into the bathroom and starts the water flowing. She returns to the bedroom and finds him trying to sit up. He’s nearly gray in color and it has her worried. She quickly crosses the room to him and puts an arm around him. She slowly helps him to stand up, letting him lean most of his weight onto her.

By the time they creep their way into the bathroom, the tub is full. She turns off the tap and then steps into the tub. The cold water causes instant goose bumps, but she just ignores them as she helps him into the bath. By the time she gets him into the tub and settled, her teeth are chattering and she’s shivering.

Ignoring her own discomfort, she gets out of the bath, goes over to the vanity and then drags the chair over to the tub. She sits down, reaches into the frigid water and starts to pet him again. After what seems to be an eternity later, his color slowly returns to normal but she continues to stroke him despite her hand going numb from the cold.

You need to go shopping, he states as he catches her hand in his and kisses the back of it.

“Are you going to be alright with me gone?” she asks worriedly as she pulls her hand back.

I’ll be fine, he replies. I left a shopping list on the kitchen counter. Would you please pick those items up for me?

“What am I getting?” she inquires.

Some of the ingredients for dinner, he answers.

“Maybe we should postpone lunch for a day or so,” she suggests.

I’ll be fine, he repeats. Besides, I’ve already made lunch. It’s waiting in the refrigerator.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” she queries.

Now who’s being the mother hen? he chuckles.

“It’s one thing to want to take care of someone, and entirely something else to be responsible for an injury,” she chokes out. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because,” he replies as his head emerges from the water, “up until a little while ago, it wasn’t bothering me.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers as she leans her forehead against his, unable to hold back the tears. “I’m so sorry.”

He takes her face into his hands and forces her to look at him.

“I forgive you,” he states just before he kisses her.

She kisses him back with such vigor she nearly pushes him back into the water. Her tears mix with the bath water as her guilt continues to consume her. Whether her body is shaking from the cold or something else, she can’t tell, and at this point, she doesn’t care. He finally breaks the kiss and then wipes away her tears with his thumbs.

“Maybe you should take a shower before you go,” he suggests. “It’ll make you feel better.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” she asks again.

“If I can survive having my chest ripped open by a hell hound, I can survive a bump on the head,” he reassures her with a small smile.

She glances down at his chest, but there’s no sign of any damage to his chest and then she looks back up at him with confusion in her eyes. He chuckles as he gives her another quick kiss and releases her face.

“It happened before I met you,” he tells her.

“And you don’t scar,” she states, a bit jealous.

“I do,” he replies, sitting up and pointing at his chest. “You just have to look carefully.”

She takes a closer look at his chest and can barely make out the faint lines of where his flesh had been laid open. She reaches out and gently traces the lines with her finger tips. His skin changes color at her touch, making her smile.

“That prescription isn’t going to fill itself,” he reminds her. She opens her mouth to say something but is stopped by him putting a finger on her lips. “I’ll be fine. Now please go. Our guests will be here soon and we will be considered poor hosts if we aren’t at least mostly ready.”

“When did you start channeling my grandmother?” she asks rhetorically after pulling back.

She stands, returns the seat to its rightful place, takes a quick shower to warm up and finally goes and gets dressed. She checks in on Abe before she leaves and sees he’s turned the jets on. He seems to be resting comfortably, or at least as comfortable as one can get folded up like origami.

“Are you going to ok while I’m gone?” she asks, still a bit concerned.

Either get going or I’m going to drag you in here with me and make you scream my name again, he playfully threatens.

“Beast,” she mutters as she turns to leave.

I heard that.

“GOOD!” she yells back over her shoulder.

She beats a hasty retreat when she hears the water in the tub starting to slosh against the sides.

About an hour later, Maggie finds herself dragging a couple of bags into the kitchen with no husband in sight. She dumps the bags on the counter and starts to unload them. As soon as the bags are empty, she puts away the bags and then starts to on the groceries.

Abe enters as she’s trying to find room in the fridge for the perishables and sees a small orange box on the counter. He picks it up, looks at it and then quietly leaves with it in hand.

“And where do you think you’re going with that?” asks a less than amused wife.

“Where am I going with what?” he counters as he tries to hide said item behind his back.

“The Motrin,” she growls back as she holds her hand out. “Give it back.”

“No,” he responds.

“What do you mean ‘No’?” she demands, taking a step closer to him as he steps back. “Abe, I have a headache that starts just behind my eyes and is currently working its way down to my toes. Now please give me the Motrin.”

“No,” he repeats.

“And why not?” she snaps.

“Because Motrin is made with ibuprofen and that is a blood thinner and it could cause you to miscarry,” he answers.

She stares at him in stunned surprise for a good minute before she gives up and returns to the kitchen with slumped shoulders. Resigning herself to having to just deal with the pain, she goes back to her previous task.

Just as she’s putting away the last item, he returns, takes one of her hands in his and places something in it. She looks at the two red and yellow gelcaps rolling around on her palm and then looks up at him just as he’s handing her a glass of water. With a sigh, she takes the Tylenol he’s handed her.

“I know Tylenol doesn’t work as well as Motrin, but it should bring you some relief,” he states quietly.

“Thank you,” she responds.

She starts to clean the kitchen as he begins to gather plates, glasses and silverware for lunch. She watches as he heads out the door, down the hall and into the living room. She can hear the sliding glass door open and she figures he’s setting the table on the patio. As she’s washing one of the larger pans, he comes back into the kitchen, pulls a couple of glass pitchers with a thick layer of dust on them out of the cupboard and puts them next to her to wash.

“Where did those come from?” she asks.

“The cupboard,” he answers.

“I know that,” she retorts. “I just don’t remember ever seeing them before.”

“I believe your grandmother gave them to you,” he replies after laying a bare hand on them. “They’ve been up there for some time.”

“It figures,” she sighs. “My grandmother is always sneaking things into my house. She seems to think I should be holding huge parties every other week. I swear there are things in this house that I’ve never even seen that she’s sneaked in.”

“She loves you,” he states as he pulls open the fridge and starts to pull out the ingredients for a salad.

“She’s trying to make me the perfect little hostess,” she replies as she rinses the pan and then starts on the first pitcher.

“Well, at least they’re finally going to be put to good use,” he points out.

“What are you going to put in them?” she asks as she rinses the pitcher.

“I’m planning on putting lemonade in one and ice water in the other,” he answers.

“Sounds good,” she responds as she starts to work on the second pitcher.

“You are aware of what will happen if Manning finds out about this lunch, don’t you?” he questions, changing the subject.

“I imagine an entire zoo’s worth of baby animals coming out of that man,” she replies while rinsing the pitcher.

“Now there’s a mental image I could have lived the rest of my life without,” he states with a shudder.

She chuckles while he starts to slice up the toppings for the salad.

“I believe trying to only give them the barest of information would probably be best,” she says while she starts to work on another pan. “Not letting them know about the bureau, Hellboy or Mages would be safest.”

“Then what do we tell them when they want to know how we met?” he asks as he finishes the green salad.

They spend the next several minutes deciding what should and shouldn’t be told to Helen and Doug while she finishes cleaning the kitchen and he puts the finishing touches on lunch. As he’s pulling the pasta salad out of the fridge, something catches her eyes.

“What’s that?” she asks, pointing at said item.

“It’s dessert,” he answers. “I made a fruit tart. I hope that’s alright.”

“That’s fine,” she replies. “But where did you get a tart pan?”

“It was in the cupboard shoved towards the back,” he responds as he transfers the pasta to a serving bowl.

With a sigh and a shake of the head, she drains the water out of the sink. With the dishes done, she helps him take the food out to the patio. No sooner does she put the pitcher of ice water down on the table, when he grabs her and pulls her towards him. He captures her lips with his for a mind numbing kiss. When he finally lets her up for air, she’s not sure if she should jump him or hit him.

“By the way, have I told you how nice you look?” he asks with a self satisfied smirk on his face. “Why did you switch to a skirt? You were wearing pants earlier.”

“It’s to warm for pants,” she answers. “I tried shorts, but someone left a series of bruises on my thigh that the shorts couldn’t cover, so I went with a skirt.”

“I like it,” he states as he starts to rub his hand up her leg causing the material to bunch up. “I can kiss and make those bruises better if you like.”

“Stop that,” she says as she tries to push his hand away. “We have company coming.”

“They’re not coming,” he states and she looks at him in confusion.

“What do you mean they’re not coming?” she demands just as someone knocks on the front door.

“Because they’re here.”
- 14
- 15
- 16
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A Magical Wedding