Ben had never been to a ball before.

The food was great, he wasn't complaining about that part. He didn't drink – it was probably bad for Rina if one of her senior officers (and the man accompanying her to the ball, no less) was found inebriated on duty – but those who were looked like they were enjoying themselves. There was an awful lot more sparkle too. Maybe a little too much. The nobility around him seemed like they were desperately trying to outdo each other over who could look the most like a peacock. Not to say it wasn't a beautiful spectacle, but that was exactly what it looked like – a spectacle, a show, and none of it was real.

Well, except the beautiful woman at his elbow.

She was dressed in blue, as she always was, reclining on her throne with a thoughtful expression on her face. She surveyed the richest of her kingdom with one perfect eyebrow raised in scrutiny.

No, it seemed to say, honestly, this is a bit disappointing.

Every so often, a noble would approach and introduce themselves, and the queen would raise her hand in acknowledgement of them. As she did so, her fingers would brush gently along Ben's arm, and he'd try not to smile fondly in front of three hundred nobles. If anyone noticed, they didn't say anything, and for a while, the Queen and her officer quietly poked fun at the people in the ballroom, without much interruption.

And then a top hat sailed into the room, attached to a pair of long legs and a white jacket, and within seconds, Reaver had approached the throne and bowed low to the Queen. Her brows rose but little else – Ben wondered how long she'd been expecting Reaver to turn up.

"Your majesty," the immortal purred. "I humbly beseech your forgiveness for my lateness to this little soiree. I had," his lip curled sensually, "trouble with the staff."

"Well, it's nice to see you here, Reaver," she replied. "You're forgiven. Do enjoy the party."

"I most certainly will," the deviant agreed, smirking. Rina smiled charmingly at him, and he moved away with his gaze fixed to her, until he was forced to turn to speak to a companion. Rina's smile dropped.

"Ben," she began. "Ask me to dance. Now."

"I don't know how."

"Doesn't matter. I'll teach you the steps as we go. If you don't, Reaver will."

He scanned the perimeter quickly in case there was any trouble, and seeing none, the soldier moved in front of her chair and held out his hand.

"Would you like to dance, your majesty?" he asked.

"A little louder," she almost hissed. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite hear that, Major Finn. It's the music, it's so loud…"

"Of course," he said loudly. "Would you like to dance with me, your majesty?"

"I would be delighted," she replied, too loud and perhaps a little too much. But when she took his hand, she squeezed it, and any apprehension at the idea of dancing and looking like a fool vanished when she turned her real smile on him.

He led her out into the floor, and somehow Rina managed to guide his hands to where they needed to be and make it look like he knew what he was doing. Her hands found his shoulder and she leaned into him, quickly murmuring instructions into his ear to the rhythm of the music. Ben managed to keep up somehow, and whilst the queen led them, he relaxed a little.

It took very little time for him to appreciate their closeness. If not for her needing the space to place her feet, he would have crushed her form against his and lavished in the heat bleeding from her body. Even so, he risked sliding his hand down her form, a little lower than it should have been placed, and her widened brown eyes, the curve of a smile at her lips, told him more of her approval than words could.

And somehow he managed to twirl her without throwing her on the floor, guiding her back into him a little firmer than they expected, and there was a momentary pause whilst Rina righted her feet and stifled a giggle. The tips of his ears burned in embarrassment, but he found his own face twitching into a smile as she directed him back to the dance with a twinkle in her eye, her fingers clutching his tightly. The next time she spun outwards and returned to him, she didn't slam into him bodily and they managed to continue without issue. The dress she wore rustled against him as they moved, her skin warm beneath the silk and cotton, and with a little more confidence he pulled her to him, fighting down a grin when the queen's breath hitched and the faintest flush appeared on her cheeks. She teethed her lip and he wanted to kiss her then and there, but he resisted, obeying the whispered moves she instructed him to follow as he resisted the urge to grind into her and stared into her eyes.

"I'm going to dip you," he murmured suddenly, and she was given the barest fraction of time to prepare herself before he braced her against his leg and dipped her backwards. Her long hair flowed down towards the floor like a silk waterfall and she released her hand from his to hold her crown in place. Her cheeks flushed with blood as Ben grinned at her, a little shyly. At that moment, the music finished, and he let her up. They parted only a little before she graced him with a small, customary curtsey. He bowed his head and took her hand, leading her back to the throne. He felt eyes on the back of his head, and turned to see Reaver, standing against a pillar, watching with an intrigued expression, one that flickered with hints of arousal.

"I want to kiss you, probably more than I should, in a lot of places," Ben whispered. Her already pink face flushed deeper, and she inhaled deeply, her eyes flicking up to her Major before she shot him a shy smile.

"Maybe later?" she whispered back. His replying grin was cheeky.

"Hold you to that," he promised.

It was close to two hours later that the Major found time to pick his queen up by her ass and press her (though by the time she met solid structure, it was more like a slam) against a hard wood wall, his fingers squeezing his prize tightly as one leg wedged between her body and he crushed his lips against hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck and the queen of Albion moaned shamelessly into the contact, one of her hands reaching for his head to grasp a handful of hair. Ben bit and licked at her mouth, the delicate pink flesh flushing beneath his assault until he moved, leaving Rina breathless and red as he attacked her neck. Teeth and tongue raised welts on the pale skin, and she writhed against the leg pressing into her core as she tugged something close to cruelly on the golden blond strands in her possession. Ben groaned, grinding into her thigh as he hooked her leg around his waist, blue silk riding up to expose a stocking-clad knee. She slid her other leg around and locked them together, pressing his crotch against her core and letting out a whimper of pleasure when her wet heat encountered the unyielding sensation of his clothed length. Her eyes shot open and she gazed into his, bodies pausing as they took a moment to consider.

He pressed her into the wall to keep her secured as one hand dipped beneath her skirt, up to his elbow in the beautiful dress, and was fingering the tops of her silk and lace knickers when they heard a cough. Ben's hand dropped immediately to her thigh to prise her from around him as they both looked at the source of the cough, and found Reaver, his white suit practically glowing in the moonlight streaming from the windows, twirling his cane.

"Well, well, well," he drawled. "I had my suspicions the queen was interested in her pretty little soldier, but this is much better than I'd hoped…oh, don't let me interrupt, I love to watch."

Rina disentangled herself from Ben and her feet met solid ground. She brushed herself down, and smoothed her hair, managing to embody the regal queen even with a large love bite on her neck.

"Good evening, Reaver," she said calmly, her face burning. "Did you just come to ogle, or was there a real issue you needed to discuss?"

"I am a man of many talents, one of which includes the art of 'multi-tasking', your majesty," the Hero informed her. "I can do both."

"Then there was no real reason for you to come looking for us?" Rina asked.

"Other than to see the two of you so delectably in flagrante? I'm afraid not. Have a good evening, your majesty," he purred. He watched them tidy themselves for a moment before he spun on his heel, a glass of wine in his hand managing, somehow, to stay perfectly still despite the speed of his movements, and stalked back towards the ballroom with a jaunt walk.

"Well, that was disappointingly abrupt," Ben commented, as Rina's hand gripped his upper arm. He'd barely turned to see what she needed before the queen had shoved him against the wall in an imitation of her own pose barely two minutes earlier, her hand sliding up his stomach beneath the smart red Major's jacket. Fingers strummed over his skin, playing across the muscle, and she scored lines down his chest with her nails hard enough to force Ben's body to roll at the sensation. Within seconds she had switched locations to the almost polar opposite, palm at the waistband of his trousers and moving to the obvious bulge to grip.

He almost lost his damn mind.

She wasn't gentle with her movements, squeezing firmly as her hand jerked up and down, and Ben sucked in a breath as the queen of Albion fixed her teeth to his neck and worked on giving him a twin bite to her own. Her Heroic strength was incredibly obvious as she kept him against the woodwork whilst she pleasured him, despite his writhing and helpless flailing. His hands found her ass and groped tightly, liquid delight running through his body and tightening at his core. He gritted his teeth, grunting softly and trying to keep his voice down. Her hand clapped over his mouth and he let out the muffled sounds into her palm as she licked his neck, mouth, lips, teeth, tongue trailing over old scars and new bristle, chuckling as he seized up.

"Please, fuck, oh Avo, oh my g-oh my-Rina-please-more-!"

When Ben Finn came, he almost screamed into her hand. She decided he was incredibly sexy in the moment of release, gripping tight as she got him off, and watching as the tension that had been coiling in him snapped, wetness seeping through his trousers. Luckily for him, his jacket would cover it, but, fuck, his knees came damn well close to giving out. He was still seeing stars when Rina let go of his throat, panting as her thumb soothingly brushed over his lips, and he bit the digit drunkenly, lapping at the marks until she removed her hand and kissed him. He sucked in air to restore his vision as they parted.

The major slumped bonelessly against the queen, who guided him gently down the wall into a sitting position, happily joining him on the floor, her hand against his pounding heart as they curled together.

"What," Ben panted, "was that?"

"Me, choosing to learn how to play dirty," Rina replied.