There was a girl called Athena and a boy called Poseidon.

She had dark brown hair, curls ringing out like cautiousness and silence and he had sea-green eyes dancing with lies.

She knew this.

But his eyes also spoke of the ocean with childish enthusiasm and her with confused sincerity.

She knew this.

And when they fought (when he fought, really. She stood to the side with masked amusement and clear disdain at his temper tantrum), his eyes would roar like the sea, spraying her with mist. And soon, she wouldn't be able to help but be enamored by the way he let his emotions suck him in like a whirlpool.

He was the sea, in every way. She loved him for it.

She knew this.

She used to hate getting wet.

She knew this.

He was the prince and she was Cinderella's stepsister.

She gasped involuntary when the doorbell rang and he was there, smiling politely and gazing hopefully at her.

"May I come in?"

She masked her shock and stepped gracefully aside- she did have a reputation to maintain, after all- into the shadows, where she fit perfectly. It was hard for her not to be overshadowed, what with her loud, obnoxious sister and especially her tender, pretty stepsister. This had been the case always, even with her mother fussing over her and her sister in that haughty, overbearing manner of hers, for being spoilt was not the same as being special.

Her sister tried on the shoe, bursting into fat, ugly tears when her feet were too small.

She tried on the shoe, her hopes crushed when her imperfect self got in the way, her too-big feet unable to fit into the damn shoe, holding in a huff when she realised he was watching her.

And when Cinderella stepped into the shoe, her face glowing, alight with the knowledge of the secret she had been keeping from her wretched family- if you could call it that, she did not notice the prince- her prince- sending one of her stepsisters a solitary wink.

She was the gingerbread man and he was the fox.

And she was running- running faster than ever before, far from the clammy hands of those who wanted to catch her (eat her, devour her). And she taunted those who were once her captors until they were flustered and frustrated and as desperate as she once was.

"Run, run as fast as you can.

You can't catch me, I'm the gingerbread man."

But then she reached the river and realised that all this running had only brought her to what she had feared all along. But then came her saviour in the form of a fox.

"Would you like a ride?"

She nodded her consent and muttered her thanks and sank onto his back, giddy with relief.

That was the moment he devoured her whole.

And after years of guardedness, a moment of relaxation had led to her downfall.

She was Jill and she was Jack.

She was serious and he was mischievous and when she was focusing on climbing the hill, he was staring at her calculatingly.

When she looked back, he gazed at her still and reached out a hand. And when she took it, he began to smirk, his eyes dancing with mirth.

And then he jumped, tumbling, tumbling, tumbling down.

And so she fell.

She was Eve and he was the snake.

She knew what she was to do and what she wasn't and usually she would have adhered to the rules but not now. Now it was too good an opportunity to waste.




And they began talking and every few minutes she would see something flicker in its amber eyes- amusement, was it?

No. It couldn't be. It was passion, she told herself, passion for her.

"Take the apple."


"Take the apple."


"Why not?"

"I don't want to."

"Don't you?"



"You do."

It was a statement, not a question, and there was nothing she could do, for he could see past her denial that it was the truth.

"I'm not supposed to."

"Ah, but you're not supposed to do this either."

And it was true. But this was wonderful, magical, so tempting. And that could be, too.

"It could be dangerous."

"Am I dangerous?"


The snake said nothing.

"Do you love me?"



"Why would I not?"

It was a reply dripping with condescending humour and both of them knew it. There were so many reasons for the snake not to love her.

"But he does," she reminded herself. "He said so."

She took the apple.

A/N: Wow. I've wanted to do this for so long but I've always put it off and today I was struck with inspiration and here it is.

Anyway. Wow. Writing that was... exhilarating. But I was also typing extremely fast because I'm not supposed to be online right now, so excuse the typos if there are any. I'll come back to fix them later.

Disclaimer: I don't own the myths or the fairytales, just the twists I might have made to them, and in no way claim to own the Bible. Hope that clears things up.

Please review. It was really fun writing this and all but it'd be amazing to know that there are people out there reading this.

I'LL GIVE YOU A COOKIE. With those tiny marshmallows on top. And icing. What's a cookie without that. Hey, make that a cookie and a cupcake.

Yep. Uh- Santa will give you a cookie and a cupcake if you review.

So, you know, do that.