tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44380159202170434992023-11-15T16:20:25.015+01:00Ryûchan's FictionArchive for my f/f fictionRyûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.comBlogger185125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-77476928322354235022014-07-04T09:15:00.000+02:002014-07-04T09:15:00.662+02:00STRIP CLUBAMERICAN HORROR STORY: COVEN-fanfic. This was really just meant to be a little joke to a friend. Cordelia gets traumatized.<br />
(not really much of a pairing fic, but perhaps Myrtle/Fiona?)<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0185')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0185')"></a><br />
<h4><a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0185')">Read STRIP CLUB</a></h4><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0185"><br />
<br />
Disclaimer: American Horror Story: Coven belongs to Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk as far as I know, and I am of course just borrowing the ladies for a little bit.<br />
<br />
Why yes, this IS just a little brainfart, written for the amusement of a friend of mine.<br />
And no, I know nearly nothing about the things I mention, but… Wikipedia. So now at least I know a little more? ;P<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>STRIP CLUB</strong></span><br />
----------------------------------------------- <br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Having come home to find that all other inhabitants of the academy were not only out, but at a strip club no less, Cordelia marched off in an indignant huff to corral her youngsters back home where she could scold them for irresponsible behaviour.<br />
<br />
Upon reaching the club – and manhandling people out of the way to get to the loud throng in front of the stage where some voluptuously shaped but far too young women were gyrating to what supposedly was music – she had not expected Myrtle Snow to be the first person she would find.<br />
<br />
“Yes! Yes, take it off, take it all off!” Myrtle cheered with the rest of the spectators, giving Cordelia deep scars to her psyche.<br />
<br />
“Myrtle!” Cordelia gasped and grabbed an aging but finely dressed arm. “What are you <em>doing</em>?”<br />
<br />
“Cordelia.” Myrtle was as unruffled as ever. “My dear, I cheered for the child to bare her bosom, it isn’t as if I asked her to cover it in finely tempered dark couverture chocolate, flavoured with a nice sauternes, and sprinkled with crushed honey-roasted gevuina.”<br />
<br />
The redhead sighed and looked dreamily into the distance.<br />
<br />
“That <em>was</em> quite a night.” Fiona sighed on Cordelia’s left, an equal look of half-lidded lust and nostalgic remembrance as Myrtle.<br />
<br />
Cordelia slapped her hands over her eyes and in soul-rendering horror screamed louder than anything else in the building.<br />
<br />
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
--------------------------------- <br />
<br />
Bonus:<br />
<br />
Cordelia stared at the stage in horror: “MISTY! GET DOWN FROM THERE!” A whimper. “AND PUT YOUR CLOTHES BACK ON!”<br />
<br />
<br />
</span><br />
<br />
Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-54590457938919362062014-06-29T11:53:00.001+02:002014-06-29T11:53:11.251+02:00BEDMATESAMERICAN HORROR STORY: COVEN-fanfic. Cordelia is quite sure she went to bed alone.<br />
(Cordelia/Misty, Foxxay)<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0184')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0184')"></a><br />
<h4><a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0184')">Read BEDMATES</a></h4><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0184"><br />
<br />
Disclaimer: American Horror Story: Coven belongs to Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk as far as I know, and I am of course just borrowing the ladies for a little bit.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>BEDMATES</strong></span><br />
----------------------------------------------- <br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Cordelia had gone to bed alone, of that much she was certain.<br />
<br />
Ever since she had thrown Hank out her bed had been a big, solitary and sometimes a bit cold place – although in fairness her mother had burned the old mattress, the bedclothes and everything else even vaguely related to Hank in a fit of rage once his true identity was revealed, so technically this particular bed had been a big and solitary place from the start. The only other living thing that ever occupied it from time to time was Cordelia’s cat, Bastet, but the small black feline took up so little space that Cordelia would hardly know the difference.<br />
<br />
Unlike right now.<br />
<br />
Whoever was in Cordelia’s bed right now had managed to wake her from a rather intense dream in fact, so all in all? Not the cat.<br />
<br />
The dream, oh that dream… It was a reoccurring one lately, and got just a bit worse, a bit more intense, every time she had it, and it left Cordelia feeling quite drained. Also it made her worry about her own mental state, since the dreams in question were in essence her subconscious mind debating herself while taking on the form of her two mothers. In the mess that was her dreamscape, Cordelia was being alternately advised or persuaded by Fiona and Myrtle on the topic of one Misty Day, or more precisely, on Cordelia’s growing attraction and feelings towards the young resurgent witch.<br />
<br />
It was giving her a headache, not the least of which was from the fact that she couldn’t quite figure out which of the dream versions of her mothers were supposed to advice against propositioning the young woman who was supposed to be her student. Because so far the main difference found in the night-time conference sessions was that dream Myrtle spoke in somewhat flowery prose while dream Fiona was raunchier, suggesting more physical means of seduction and beyond.<br />
<br />
Frankly some of the things dream Fiona suggested in terms of sex surprised Cordelia that she was even aware of. Perhaps it was all in the genes after all. Thank heavens none of the girls with growing mental abilities at the school were strong enough to enter her mind unbidden, because if some of these thoughts were to become known to her charges… Cordelia just wouldn’t be able to handle the embarrassment.<br />
<br />
But back to the matter at hand. The weight and warmth that was currently sharing her bed was most certainly not a cat, and had most definitely not been there when Cordelia went to sleep. She would have remembered this.<br />
<br />
There was sound, this surprise bed-sharer was speaking softly, and although she could not make out the words, the lilt and timbre of the voice revealed the identity of Cordelia’s guest even before she managed to pry her eyes open.<br />
<br />
Misty.<br />
<br />
Misty Day, the woman occupying far too much of Cordelia’s thoughts and dreams of late, was curled up on her side at nearly the centre of the bed, cooing and talking quietly to Cordelia’s cat. The very early morning light that snuck past the curtains was just enough to bathe the young woman in a soft glow, turning the mass of pale curls atop her head, even more unruly so early in the morning, into radiant gold.<br />
<br />
Cordelia could not help but smile. The younger witch wasn’t even dressed, all she seemed to wear was a pyjama shirt and the for Misty ubiquitous knitted scarf, which she was using to play with the cat. Strangely, in a way the visit wasn’t even surprising to Cordelia, not really.<br />
<br />
She yawned and the golden head she had admired turned towards her, blue eyes widening in what looked like pleased surprise, and Misty bestowed her with the loveliest smile Cordelia knew.<br />
<br />
“Oh! Morning, Miss Cordelia.” The lovely little bed-squatter greeted sweetly, momentarily forgetting to play with Bastet who sat up in protest.<br />
<br />
“Misty. You know, anyone who happens to be…” Cordelia hummed with sleepy amusement and cast a glance at the clock. “half naked in my bed before five in the morning” She shifted until she lay more completely on her side, facing her company. “has earned the right to just call me Cordelia. In fact, I’m going to insist on it.”<br />
<br />
“…alright, Cordelia.” Misty blushed a little but agreed. Then she blinked. “Half naked?”<br />
<br />
Blue eyes zeroed in on where Cordelia belatedly realized the covers had been pushed down as she moved, revealing the top part of her negligee, dishevelled in sleep so that it showed a bit more than it was supposed to. She fought the urge to blush and cover herself, never really one to flaunt herself in any way, but on the other hand Misty had snuck into her bedroom, unbidden, at night while Cordelia slept. She would just have to handle a bit of unintended cleavage in this situation, Cordelia decided.<br />
<br />
That those blue eyes were studying Cordelia’s choice of sleepwear – or possibly what was underneath it – with undisguised interest had nothing to do with that decision, of course.<br />
<br />
“So, why are you in my bed, Misty?”<br />
<br />
“Ah!” Misty practically beamed at her. “We couldn’t sleep. I wanted to go into the garden, but the grass was still wet, so…” She indicated the cat. “She wanted to sit here.”<br />
<br />
As simple as that. Somehow the cat had decided where Misty should spend her time while battling insomnia, and there was nothing strange about either holding conversations with a cat or crawling into someone else’s bed while that someone else was asleep in it. To Misty, it probably wasn’t. Cordelia conceded the point for now, but decided to revisit the subject once properly awake, if only to keep Misty from doing the same to Queenie or Zoe. Startling either girl from their sleep would not be a good thing, and would likely end up in injury.<br />
<br />
The cat, already bored with waiting, purred loudly and stroked herself affectionately against Misty in an attempt to recapture her new favourite human’s attention.<br />
<br />
“You just adore her don’t you, you little traitor?” Cordelia murmured with amusement. She loved her cat, and Bastet, although aloof sometimes as cats are, was a sweetie, but that cat had taken one good look at Misty and bam! Misty was clearly the favourite and Cordelia demoted to second place. Like nearly all animals, the cat worshipped Misty.<br />
<br />
“Oh I do! I do, but…” Misty leaned towards Cordelia with such a wide-eyed look of concern. “I just think the world of you too, uhm, Cordelia.”<br />
<br />
Spoken simply, so earnestly and straight to her face. Cordelia could feel her cheeks begin to burn while something tugged strongly at her heart. She couldn’t possibly mean…? No, no, that wasn’t possible. Misty was just being her usual sweet self. Surely?<br />
<br />
After a long moment of awkward silence which had even Misty glance away shyly, Cordelia smiled kindly and patted the younger woman’s arm. “Thank you, Misty. You are so sweet.” She smiled warmly when blue eyes flitted back up to meet hers again. “I quite think the world of you too.”<br />
<br />
Misty’s expression changed, and while still a bit shy she beamed happily again. Cordelia patted her arm again before pulling back.<br />
<br />
“We really should both try to get some more sleep though. It is just after five and while we can afford to sleep in some, we still have a full day to get through, both of us.” <br />
<br />
“Can we stay?” Misty asked immediately, eager. “Not to play, just sleep. I promise.”<br />
<br />
Cordelia blinked a little, unsure of what to say. But the sight of Misty, so hopeful yet also certain that she’d be sent away, was just so endearing, how could she say no? “Sure, Misty. Just try to get some sleep.” She glanced over at the far end of the room. “There are some blankets in…”<br />
<br />
Misty had already crawled in under Cordelia’s covers, laid her head on one of the pillows and pulled the covers up until they nearly reached her nose. Bastet was placed between them under the covers, only a tiny black nose peeking out and together with a pleased rumbling purr revealing that she was there.<br />
<br />
A little bewildered but still not about to kick the woman she harboured increasingly complicated feelings for out of bed, Cordelia mentally shrugged and accepted. <br />
<br />
“Sweet dreams, Misty.” She told the still smiling woman gently before closing her own eyes.<br />
<br />
“And to you, Cordelia.”<br />
<br />
<br />
They slept long enough that Zoe and Queenie came looking for them, naturally finding them both cuddled intimately together in Cordelia’s bed, the cat long since scampered off at the first sound of someone in the kitchen. As Cordelia bolted upright and Misty, more oblivious to the situation or just happy about it, got out of bed in a more carefree manner, the scanty and rumpled state of their clothing became quite apparent. <br />
<br />
At the sight of Misty’s bare legs and barely buttoned shirt, Queenie and Zoe in an almost choreographed manner raised their eyebrows at Cordelia and smirked meaningfully. The state of Cordelia’s negligee made the smirks deeper and more insinuating, and then some disturbing little noises and knowing nods began.<br />
<br />
Cordelia blushed scarlet and shooed them out of her room, but she just knew the damage had been done. For the rest of the day, or possibly days, Zoe and Queenie would tease her mercilessly. Not Misty of course, oh no, Misty was far too pure to tease, MISTY would certainly never sneak into someone else’s bed uninvited… and end up fondling that someone else’s posterior in her sleep by accident. Oh no, that was surely all Cordelia.<br />
<br />
She leaned her face against the cool of the door, fighting to make the burning blush go away before she had to go meet her students. It was all because of that damned cat.<br />
<br />
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Cordelia could swear she heard Fiona cackling.<br />
<br />
<br />
</span>Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-64896347119300680312014-06-26T14:02:00.000+02:002014-06-27T09:55:45.698+02:00HOUSE RULESAMERICAN HORROR STORY: COVEN-fanfic. Just a short snippet, in which there's a house rule regarding Misty.<br />
(Cordelia/Misty, Foxxay)<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0183')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0183')"></a><br />
<h4><a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0183')">Read HOUSE RULES</a></h4><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0183"><br />
<br />
Disclaimer: American Horror Story: Coven belongs to Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk as far as I know, and I am of course just borrowing the ladies for a little bit.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>HOUSE RULES</strong></span><br />
-------------------------------------------------- <br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Granted, Cordelia had been in her greenhouse for the latest while, but surely not long enough or far enough away from the others that she would not have heard any dramatic disaster that might have occurred while she was elsewhere. Right?<br />
<br />
Yet the sight that met her upon entering the hallway instantly sent her heart to relocate to the area of her throat, and quite painfully stop. Zoe and Queenie were clearly panicking as they both flanked and led Misty towards Cordelia, and there wasn’t much these days that would make either of the young women quite this beside themselves.<br />
<br />
Except this. Misty was silently crying, tears pouring out of wounded eyes and thoroughly washing that lovely face. Hence the relocation and stopping of Cordelia’s heart.<br />
<br />
“What, what happened?” Was all she managed to gasp before her arms were full of weeping Misty Day.<br />
<br />
Queenie and Zoe eyed each other awkwardly and fidgeted at first, clearly reluctant to say. Finally Zoe sighed and scratched at the side of her head. “Look, I wasn’t gone from the TV-room all that long.”<br />
<br />
Cordelia tried to focus, although with a very warm, very distraught, and oh so very lovely Misty tucked into an embrace tight enough it helped solve that little heartbeat problem from earlier – only now it was working overtime instead – it had the added complication of being extremely distracting.<br />
<br />
“Some of the girls needed some help, so I left Misty watching the TV on her own, just for a bit.” Ah yes, Zoe was talking, Cordelia should listen to this. “I know it was Animal Planet, and that we’re not supposed to let Misty watch that unsupervised…” <br />
<br />
Now Cordelia and Queenie were both frowning, which made Zoe hurry her explanation. “But really, it seemed perfectly safe! She was cooing over some show where they save and raise baby sloths, and I wasn’t going to be long.”<br />
<br />
She made a face. “But it took a bit longer settling the girls than I thought it would.”<br />
<br />
“By the time I came in” Queenie cut in, gesturing at Misty. “she was watching something about baby lizards at an airport or some such, bawling her eyes out like her nana died or something.” <br />
<br />
The head on her shoulder turned more towards Cordelia’s neck, and in a choked and emotional little voice she heard “Chameleons.”<br />
<br />
“What was that, Misty?”<br />
<br />
“Chameleons. Someone shipped 95 little chameleons in a crate to Japan.” A sob. “Only 16 survived.” There was something else, only too choked and garbled to make out. The plaintive ‘Why?’ at the end was as clear as anything though.<br />
<br />
“I see.” Cordelia patted Misty’s trembling back as reassuringly as she could manage, while eyeing the two in front of her sternly. “And what exactly are the house rules regarding animal shows on TV? Hmm? Zoe?”<br />
<br />
“To never leave Misty alone while watching Animal Planet or any show containing animals, particularly ones that contain animal suffering or human cruelty towards animals.” Zoe looked as if Cordelia had scolded her for a good long while rather than the few words actually spoken. “I really am sorry.”<br />
<br />
“Alright.” Cordelia continued to pat Misty’s back gently as she steered them in the direction she had just recently come from herself. “Did any of the girls see her like this?” A small reluctant nod from Queenie and Zoe both. “Then you get to deal with that, Zoe. You and Queenie handle things here while Misty and I are… busy.”<br />
<br />
“We’ll be in the greenhouse.” With that Cordelia, still hugging Misty as close as at all humanly possible, led the younger woman away while leaning in to speak quietly into her ear. Distantly the sound of a cassette player could be heard turning on, playing an increasingly familiar tune.<br />
<br />
Zoe and Queenie watched them go in silence for a moment before sharing a look.<br />
<br />
“You know what this means, right?” Queenie asked rhetorically. Zoe made a slight face but didn’t answer, she didn’t need to. “You deal with the kids, then we get to split the evening classes between us.”<br />
<br />
She smirked a little at the miserable looking girl by her side. “And I think its only fair I get to pick which I’ll take, considering.” Looking pleased with herself Queenie sauntered off down the hall.<br />
<br />
“Hey!” Zoe protested mildly, waving her arms a bit. “No fair!” She set off after her friend. “They have much more respect for you! They don’t listen as much to me, and…”<br />
<br />
Queenie chuckled evilly while Zoe tried to persuade her friend to take the tougher class to teach as they reached the end of the hall and walked out of sight.<br />
<br />
<br />
</span>Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-90274377793026354932013-12-01T11:27:00.001+01:002013-12-01T11:27:35.057+01:00CASUAL COMPANYDOCTOR WHO-fanfic. An average day at Paternoster Row - more or less.<br />
(Madame Vastra/Jenny, with mention of Doctor Who/River Song)<br />
<br />
<br />
A small note to anyone that has left me a message on this site this past year that hasn't received an answer, I'm going to try to go through them and write answers soon, bit by bit.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0182')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0182')"><h4>Read CASUAL COMPANY</h4></a><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0182"><br />
<br />
Disclaimer: Madam Vastra, Jenny Flint and Strax all belong to BBC and whoever else that own the rights to the Doctor Who franchise, I still haven’t figured out who they might be and probably never will. <br />
<br />
In a way this little ficlet, pointless though it is, is my way of celebrating the 50 year anniversary. Now, do you know what the very best way would be to celebrate would be? If they gave us a Paternoster gang miniseries! ;) <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>CASUAL COMPANY</strong></span><br />
------------------------------------------------------------- <br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Mundane days were more or less nonexistent on Paternoster Row, although at least not all days tended towards the loud or violent. <br />
<br />
Jenny Flint had been putting the final touches to a dinner that would then slowly simmer until Strax would be sent to bring it to the dining room. She had even checked things over twice so that the area was secured for Sontaran handling, a little habit she had picked up not long after Strax had joined their family. In their natural state not many things were ultimately Sontaran-proof, but Jenny had the advantage of advanced – sometimes futuristic, sometimes even alien – technology to her aid, for which she had quickly become grateful.<br />
<br />
She had just put away her apron, straightened out her immaculate dress, and washed and dried her hands when she felt a hand on her shoulder. A head leaned in close on that side, and a warm voice purred appreciatively.<br />
<br />
“Dinner smells just fabulous, dear. Got any wine?”<br />
<br />
It wasn’t the head and voice Jenny would have expected. She was rather pleased with herself that she did not, in fact, jump in surprise, but instead merely raised an eyebrow as she turned slightly to face her unexpected guest.<br />
<br />
“Professor Song.” As always the title was spoken with equal parts playful amusement, for they were friends after all, and admiration. While hardly a child of her age in most things, Jenny still felt immense admiration and pride in her friend for being a female professor, even if no-one else, River included, seemed all that impressed with the feat. “When did you get ‘ere?”<br />
<br />
“Just now, dear.” River pranced away, eyes glittering with some private amusement as always. “I know my hubby is here.” She turned fully towards Jenny as Jenny moved to follow River out of the room. “So about that wi... ne...”<br />
<br />
Something slammed elsewhere in the house, quite hard, and a few loud bangs followed. There was a roar, the sound of feet stomping both hard and fast, and Jenny could swear she heard the sound of china breaking. It wasn’t Strax’ usual antics, either.<br />
<br />
Jenny and River shared a brief, wide-eyed look of alarm before rushing towards the noise.<br />
<br />
Just before they reached the door to where the ruckus came from there was another bang, a scraping sound, and another roar.<br />
<br />
“YOU KISSED MY WIFE!”<br />
<br />
“Oh dear.” Jenny and River sighed in unison, albeit with completely different inflections.<br />
<br />
“MY WIFE!”<br />
<br />
Entering the previously so elegantly furnished drawing room Jenny did a quick take at the chaos. The sofa was overturned – likely the source of that first loud noise – as were the large coffee table, a side table and a pedestal. The Chinese vase that had previously been displayed on it lay shattered on the floor, one of the comfy chairs were missing pieces, and books and random small knickknacks had fallen out of the bookshelves.<br />
<br />
In the middle of this mess were the Doctor and Vastra, Vastra’s lovely black gown ripped and the Doctor looking rumpled, with the enraged Vastra attempting to reach him and the Doctor – with a good grip on the far end – attempting to keep her away by dragging the other coffee table around the floor, keeping it between them.<br />
<br />
“Come now, Vastra, it wasn’t like that.” He tried, sounding a bit desperate. “Please calm down.”<br />
<br />
“YOU KISSED MY WIFE!”<br />
<br />
Vastra made another lunge and the Doctor countered, spinning with the table. “It was a spur of the moment thing, didn’t mean anything by it.” Vastra feinted and he countered. “Can’t we just calm down and talk about it?”<br />
<br />
Strax came bursting into the room, a large Sontaran gun in one hand and a flour-covered rolling pin in the other. “WHAT!” He jumped, aiming at first one corner of the room, then the other. “WHAT, WHAT?”<br />
<br />
Strax as a rule did not handle surprises very well, and his usual response to being startled was to start shooting. Jenny and River, in a feat of amazing unspoken teamwork, nimbly plucked the gun from his hands and slid it down the hallway before he could start. It didn’t stop Strax from attempting to fire the rolling pin though, not that he noticed.<br />
<br />
The leg of the Doctor’s table shield snagged in the tangled carpet and got stuck, and in desperation the Doctor traded it for Strax, wielding the short but stocky Sontaran towards Vastra while crouching behind him.<br />
<br />
“Hi honey.” He gasped towards River, spinning himself and Strax when Vastra moved. Strax tried to hit Vastra with his rolling pin in a confused attempt to defend himself, while the hissing Silurian tried to reach over him to grab at the Doctor. The Doctor spun again and cast a desperate glance at his wife. “Help!”<br />
<br />
“Hello sweetie.” River replied calmly, not moving an inch while Jenny took a few instinctive steps forward.<br />
<br />
Vastra hissed louder and tried to simply barrel through Strax.<br />
<br />
“I was speaking to MY wife, not yours!” The Doctor hastened to explain while bracing. “And honestly Vastra, she slapped me! She slapped me hard!” There was a note of hurt in his voice when he said that, like a part of him was a little boy that didn’t get why he’d gotten scolded for something he’d done.<br />
<br />
“I certainly did.” Jenny stated calmly, loud enough that she hoped Vastra would hear her.<br />
<br />
“Good for you, dear.” River approved casually.<br />
<br />
Trying to ignore all else Jenny focused on her wife and calming her down. “Enough now. Stop this ruckus, we’re all friends ‘ere.” Vastra didn’t seem any less angry, but her posture changed, bit by bit, at the sound of Jenny’s voice. “Just calm down, m’love.”<br />
<br />
As Vastra shifted slightly her ripped gown did the same, and a long, mostly bare green leg came into view. Jenny’s eyes snapped to that leg, and her mind went out the window.<br />
<br />
There was a long, tense moment in which no-one spoke, Vastra did not hiss or lunge, but she also did not release her crushing grip in the three-way wrestling tug-of-war.<br />
<br />
River cleared her throat and smirked at Jenny.<br />
<br />
Coming back to senses and realizing she had just been caught openly ogling her wife, Jenny blushed bright red. She shook herself slightly and glanced away. “Come now, you’re scarin’ Strax.”<br />
<br />
Vastra blinked at that and immediately let go of her grip on the flailing Sontaran. As Strax and the Doctor stumbled backwards from the sudden move Vastra straightened and seemed to finally calm herself. She turned to look at her wife, only to find Jenny blushing and averting her eyes.<br />
<br />
Surprise and confusion passed quickly over Vastra’s features until her expression settled into a frown. Bright blue eyes started to blaze once more as she glared at the Doctor again, clearly gearing up for a second round of insanely jealous spousal rage.<br />
<br />
Then she stopped for a moment and looked back, only now really noticing that River was present. River gave her a lopsided smirk and gestured none to discreetly between Vastra’s leg and Jenny, whose eyes had returned to stare at her wife with a rather telltale expression on her face. Vastra tilted her head and looked down at herself.<br />
<br />
“Oh!” Blushing a darker green she pulled at her ruined clothing, covering herself better, and gave her wife a somewhat shy but pleased look. <br />
<br />
“Yes. Well.” The Doctor mumbled as he slowly tried to inch his way from behind Strax and over to his wife. “Indeed. Good. No kissing of any kind, no sirree. And a no to the slapping as well.”<br />
<br />
“I don’t know, sweetie...” River answered him with a wicked gleam in her eyes, catching the attention from the others in the room as well. “It seems awfully unfair to me.”<br />
<br />
With a grin she turned to the unsuspecting Jenny, quickly cupped her face and gave her a resounding kiss.<br />
<br />
Vastra gasped. Jenny made a startled and protesting noise. The Doctor whimpered and tried to go back to hiding behind Strax, but Strax waved his rolling pin at him threateningly.<br />
<br />
“River Song!” Jenny gasped indignantly as she yanked herself away. “How could you! I am a married woman!” She reached over and smacked River in the shoulder. “YOU are a married woman! I’s not right!”<br />
<br />
“Professor!” Vastra protested loudly, moving closer to her wife.<br />
<br />
“Mm, I’m married.” River agreed while ignoring Vastra, that mischievous glitter still in her eyes and a confident smirk on her lips. “But I am a fantastic kisser though, aren’t I?”<br />
<br />
Jenny made a little sound that sounded vaguely like agreement as she turned towards her wife.<br />
<br />
Vastra gasped again and pouted, looking upset. She glared at River and growled, which just seemed to amuse the woman more, before grabbing her Jenny and pulling her tightly, possessively, into her embrace.<br />
<br />
There was no time for anything more than a startled yelp from Jenny before Vastra had her pressed flush against herself, dipped her deep towards the floor, and proceeded to kiss her wife absolutely senseless.<br />
<br />
After a moment the Doctor whooped at the kissing couple, while River chuckled. A little while later he started to look away and fidget, casting his eyes about randomly while smiling a bit embarrassed.<br />
<br />
“Not this again.” Strax sighed heavily. “Once they start they take hours and hours to stop.” He stomped towards the door. “I’ll go to the basement before the screaming starts.”<br />
<br />
He stopped next to the wide-eyed Doctor and River and added with a mixture of misery and disdain in his voice. “That one” He pointed his rolling pin at Jenny. “is by far the noisiest, but that one” The rolling pin pointed at Vastra. “reaches a pitch that hurts my ears.” He sagged a bit and grumbled. “Stupid mating rituals.”<br />
<br />
“The neighbouring lowly human scum has asked what they’re breeding in here, and if it could buy one once they’re whelped.” Strax turned a concerned and earnest squint up at the Doctor and River. “Are they attempting to breed? I have explained the particulars of human-silurian interspecies reproduction and hybridisation to them before, but...”<br />
<br />
“YES Strax, thank you.” Finally releasing her wife’s lips Vastra straightened, sending Strax a warning glare. “That is quite enough. Go play with your grenades until supper.”<br />
<br />
The Doctor and River watched avidly, trying not to stare at Jenny who was still slumped over and gasping in her wife’s arms, and also trying very hard to tell themselves that they did not in fact see the tip of Vastra’s tongue quickly slither back behind her own lips just before she spoke up to interrupt Strax.<br />
<br />
For a moment Strax rebelled. “But I was going to perfect my pie bomb recipe!” He whined, even though he had been only too willing to leave the room mere seconds before.<br />
<br />
“Go play, or stay here and start the cleaning up. It is your choice.” Vastra declared, and grumbling Strax stomped away down the hall.<br />
<br />
A moment after Strax had disappeared from sight and as Vastra was gently making sure Jenny was alright to stand on her own, the Doctor suddenly gasped and pointed at Jenny. “HEY!”<br />
<br />
They all started as he shook the finger accusingly. “Hey! What? No. Hey!” He pointed at River. “No slappy!” He pointed back at Jenny. “The kissing!” Finally back at River again. “Why no slapping with her?”<br />
<br />
Jenny wasn’t the only one that stared at him in confusion.<br />
<br />
“You, her, with the, the...” The Doctor made some exaggerated and fish-like movements with his lips. “the smooching, there was no slapping! Why?” He put a hand to his chest, affronted. “When I did it, because I was happy to be alive and moving, I got the slapping!”<br />
<br />
“Oh don’t worry sweetie, there will be slapping soon.” River told him archly, causing the Doctor to gulp. “Someone will get slapped very soon, I guarantee it.”<br />
<br />
After a brief hesitation Jenny stepped forward, trying to carefully urge everyone out of the room. “I think per’aps we ought to retire to anot’er room,” She looked at Vastra as they all stepped into the hall. “while you change into a new dress?”<br />
<br />
Vastra pulled self-consciously at her ruined gown. “It would be best.” Then she eyed the Doctor. “Doctor?”<br />
<br />
“Uhm, yes Vastra?”<br />
<br />
“Gallifreyan or no, you had best keep hands and lips away from my wife henceforth.”<br />
<br />
“Yes Madame!” He agreed loudly and saluted, then made sure to keep River between himself and Jenny to be on the safe side. “Absolutely no lips whatsoever.”<br />
<br />
“So that means my lips and hands are still allowed?” River teased, tapping her chin as if in thought. “Mmm, the possibilities.”<br />
<br />
With a few long quick strides Vastra shot past River, intending to have a little chat about accosting other people’s wives, but she never got quite that far.<br />
<br />
As she passed River there was a loud slap, and an equally loud high-pitched yelp.<br />
<br />
Somewhere far away in the house Strax could be heard complaining about pain to his ears.<br />
<br />
With a grin River held up her hand, flexing the fingers. Slowly both Jenny and the Doctor looked from that hand and that grin to Vastra, blushing dark green yet again while holding both hands to her rear. River giggled.<br />
<br />
“Are you insane?” The Doctor hissed to his wife, quickly grabbing her arm and pushing her in front of him as she was clearly not moving fast enough. <br />
<br />
Jenny calmly walked across the hall.<br />
<br />
“An angry Vastra can be reasoned with eventually. As long as you keep her from remembering that she can use her venom on you until she’s calmed down, you’re fine.” A pause. “Probably.”<br />
<br />
Vastra looked a bit stunned at that, having indeed forgotten to use her tongue earlier in all her anger. Jenny reached the stand where her and Vastra’s swords were placed when not in use.<br />
<br />
“An angry Jenny though...” He didn’t finish his sentence as Jenny unsheathed her katana and turned around. Instead of pushing at her he grabbed River’s hand. “River, RUN!”<br />
<br />
And they did, River while still laughing and the Doctor while shouting, down the corridor and turning towards the back of the house where the Doctor had parked the TARDIS. Jenny, still not saying anything, held her sword high and set off running after them.<br />
<br />
Vastra stood for a moment still, in a torn dress and with a stinging backside, staring in the direction her wife and their guests had gone. Screams and shouts echoed throughout the house.<br />
<br />
“Jenny!” She wrenched herself back into motion and set off after them. “Don’t run so recklessly with a sword in your hands!” There was a thud and a shout somewhere. “JENNY!”<br />
<br />
<br />
No, not all days at Paternoster Row were filled with loud noises, shouting and violence. But then there were days when their friends would come to visit.<br />
<br />
<br />
</span>Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-44475401512430658382013-04-10T16:34:00.000+02:002013-04-10T16:34:00.157+02:00When Elves Sing Pt3 ENDElfen Lied-fanfic. Set after the end of the series. What became of Lucy and the others at Kaede House after the events in the series? For that matter, what will happen to the diclonius race?<br />
Third and final part of a story that is now finished at long last.<br />
(Lucy/Aiko, Nana/Mayu)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0181')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0181')"><h4>Read WHEN ELVES SING PT3 END</h4></a><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0181"><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Disclaimer: see part 1.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>When Elves Sing Pt3 END</strong></span><br />
-------------------------------------------------------<br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
When Lucy had officially made Nana her younger sister and second in command in both the Diclonius Foundation and what the world at large considered their ‘family company’, Nana had not imagined it would entail accepting interviews and appearing on talk shows in Lucy’s place and on behalf of her entire species, yet here she was. Fortunately the years had given Nana experience with these things so that she had little cause for concern, in fact some things even amused her secretly, like the perfectly coiffed hostess covering up what had just before the show been barely concealed boredom with excessive enthusiasm and interest that really wasn’t going to land her a better job anytime soon.<br />
<br />
Nana herself was impeccably dressed, though too formally so, in dark blues and a slash of warm pink, knowing well how this made her appear far less forbidding and intimidating than Lucy’s style of all-black and all-strict business wardrobe. It was for the sake of all their kind that Nana, with her usually friendly smile and more accessible appearance, was the public image of the Blackhorn family and the Diclonius Foundation. Lucy, sometimes without really meaning to, tended to frighten people... a lot.<br />
<br />
She answered questions with a warm and pleasant voice, keeping an honest face and the impression of something like the friendly woman next door, smiling a lot and even laughing slightly at the hostess quite tired attempt at a joke earlier. While this would have been in her nature to do anyway, sadly it was a quite calculated thing in situations like these. Inwardly she sighed and wished, if only briefly, that it was over so she could go home and just hug her wife.<br />
<br />
“...the first Kaede House. As you all know, ‘Kaede House’ are the dormitory-like buildings where upper teenage diclonii live during their school years until they are ready to live on their own, as good adult members of society.” The question had been about the commonly called ‘diclonii-town’ in Kamakura, and why this specific part of the country has such a higher concentration of diclonius girls than anywhere else in Japan. Nana hedged the question slightly, her reply focusing on the first Kaede House and its later companions, where the older children had been housed while adapting to life among humans, as if that was the reason. It was only part of it though, as in truth the area around Kamakura held a higher diclonius birth-rate than any other place in Japan, but thanks to many humans still opting to abandon their newborns to the Foundation the actual numbers was something the public had no knowledge of.<br />
<br />
“While we are building Kaede Houses and schools on several locations around the country, the concentration of diclonius in Kamakura will likely always be a bit higher than in other places, mainly because it is convenient but also because the people in Kamakura tend to be very understanding and accepting of little diclonius girls.” Nana smiled and waved at the camera as if she was sending a greeting to the people of her hometown. “I’m sure the other cities we have located in will prove to be stable and understanding environments for our little girls as well, aside from a bit of initial growing pains. And if nothing else, our presence means a lot of employment possibilities and should do some good for the local economy.”<br />
<br />
“Ah yes, the unemployment rate does seem to have dropped quite a bit in all places where the Diclonius Foundation has established itself.” The hostess made no secret out of reading from her card. “We have a representative from one of the cities you recently announced as a future location for a Kaede House with us today, let's see if he has anything to say?” She twirled around and pointed to a lean man that looked uncomfortable in his ‘on TV’ finery.<br />
<br />
The gruff-sounding man asked several questions about job opportunities in both the long and short term that the Diclonius Foundation was bringing, and Nana replied as best she could, referring him to the websites for both Blackhorn Corporated and the Diclonius Foundation for specific details in his particular town, but also promised to speak with him privately after the show. It was with a silent sigh of resignation Nana made that offer, knowing it meant at least an additional hour before she would be able to go home, but also aware of the public image she was building with personal offers like these. This man, his eyes suddenly alight with a touch of shrewdness knowing he would get a chance at a personal recommendation by her, was far from the first person she had more or less handed out a job to in this fashion, nor would he be the last. As with most things, they were counting on this little bit of positive reputation she was garnering to help counter the instinctively negative and fearful response that was a natural reaction to their kind for most humans, although Nana did not like having to think like that. <br />
<br />
“Why do you need to build your schools and dorms in Japanese cities anyway?” A husky young man asked as he raised his arm, sounding and appearing merely curious despite his words. “Why not stay on those islands of yours?”<br />
<br />
“The Blackhorn Islands, while thankfully large enough to house our Japanese little ones for now, are hardly big enough or have the kind of infrastructure for someone to live their entire lives on.” Nana smiled at the boy, a bit thankful that the question was asked without malice as it often tended to. Curious children that wanted to understand was a large part of why she agreed to come to this show after all. “Despite what you might read in the papers the Blackhorn Islands are far from a country of their own, so that would just not be feasible. And besides, all our little ones are Japanese, conceived, born and bred, surely you would agree that they have a right to live on the mainland as well?”<br />
<br />
The young man smiled back at her and nodded, either satisfied with the brief explanation or having just received the reply he had expected. An older man with dark eyes and greying hair leaned forward in one of the lounge chairs that was spread in a loose circle around the tiny dais where Nana and the hostess were seated, signifying the special guests present for the show. The contempt virtually poured out of him even before he spoke, making Nana suppress a shudder and eye him with hidden wariness.<br />
<br />
“Rights, you say?” He smirked slightly, barely enough for the cameras to catch. “Isn’t it rather ironic to be talking about rights when it is true that you... Diclonius... have claimed not to be subject to Japanese law?” His eyes gleamed as he spoke, and Nana recalled that he was a particularly zealously religious politician whom was trying to make a name for himself recently by his anti-diclonius opinions. Sadly there were always people willing to listen to men like that and to the message of hate. “You cannot have rights without having obligations as well, nor can you have the rewards and benefits of civilized society without following its laws and regulations, any child knows that. Or are you saying that you Diclonius are above all that?”<br />
<br />
His words caused a quiet chattering to break out on the benches behind him, with people both protesting his words and agreeing with him. The other special guests were louder in their arguments, and to Nana’s relief they were mostly arguing against him. Gathering herself quickly Nana gave the audience a wide and perfectly white smile while gesturing slightly for silence.<br />
<br />
“You are of course referring to how Diclonius have been exempt from the law, and yes indeed also the rights, in Japan and many other countries around the world. In that you are partially right, and of course I agree with you, to have rights in a society you are also obliged to follow the rules of that society.” Nana put on the best innocently grateful look she could muster and matched her tone to that, mostly because she knew from experience with men like these that it would annoy him, but also because it would force him to work a bit for his venom. “You are very kind to bring that up, most people do not realize the problem, understandably, and it is something we are working on globally, Diclonius and humans alike.”<br />
<br />
She turned an earnest enough-looking face towards the show hostess and the camera, continuing. “While most people have heard of my sister’s declaration that we, the Diclonius of Japan, are not subject to Japanese law, not everyone knows the whole story behind that statement. It is simply that, again globally, we have jointly decided that while we as a people are not recognised to have equal rights or have the protection of the law that others do, we will not be held accountable by those laws.” She gave a small smile, more of a quirk of the lips really, to emphasize her words. “If the part of the law which is meant to protect a person’s rights does not apply to a Diclonius child, then the part which is meant to restrict or punish should not either. It is quite understandable, yes?”<br />
<br />
“It is much like the situation in the past, when the law was applied differently to people judging on their skin colour, their ethnic group or sexuality, as you can imagine.” Nana tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and pretended that she didn’t notice the dark glare from the man whose thunder she’d temporarily stolen. He’d probably get a second wind for his message of hate any moment now, but she was determined not to be goaded by him. “We have people, Diclonius and humans alike, all over the world right now that are actively petitioning both local government and the UN to oversee the laws, and amend the Human Rights to apply to Diclonius as well.” She smiled a little smile of honest gratitude out towards the audience and the cameras. “Progress is being made, thankfully, and if I may I would like to say that I am personally grateful to each and every person that take a stand, in whatever way, towards gaining equal rights to all of us as people.”<br />
<br />
There was a moment where Nana’s focus went inward. To her side she could feel as much as see that hateful man sneer and open his mouth to deliver his poison, just as she could feel the audience still hanging onto her words. She calculated what to say next, and inside she regretted that it came down to doing just that, but this too was part of the responsibility she held for the future of her kind. It wasn’t pleasant and not what she would have wanted, but she had accepted it long ago. She took a deep breath and made sure the camera would catch her doing so.<br />
<br />
“But I know that for many, what I just said amounts to so much abstract talk. It is hard to follow just how important these things are without an example to clarify things.” She gazed out seriously at audience and cameras alike. This was only a moderately popular TV-show, but her next few words were sure to rocket sections if not all of this particular episode onto other shows, like news broadcasts and debates, on all sorts of networks, and into online media and newspapers. “In the hopes of making things clearer to all of you, I am going to tell you something I have never spoken publicly about before.”<br />
<br />
She saw the exact moment realization hit the talkshow hostess eyes, lighting them up with an ambitious hunger as the woman saw the opportunity before her. A few frantic gestures from her and every camera in the studio focused on Nana, while the hostess grabbed the chance to become the one that got inside information from one the Blackhorn sisters with both hands and a slightly maniacal smile. For a brief moment Nana idly wondered just how unhappy the woman must be with her current job.<br />
<br />
“While it is fairly common knowledge that the Blackhorn name was given me by my sister upon being adopted into her family, it might surprise some to hear that Nana was not always my name.” Pink eyes reached out to everyone watching, no longer calculating or performing, but honest in remembered pain. “I was once simply nanaban, number seven, and that is where the name I now go by stems from. I was the seventh of the diclonius children subjected to experimental...”<br />
<br />
----------------------------- <br />
<br />
Nana’s account for her early years as a laboratory specimen, while actually brief and not going into any great and painfully gory detail, had indeed been the conversational bomb she had expected it to be. The show itself had dragged on longer than intended because of it, and with the additional time she had to spend, Nana did not manage to get out of there for a fairly long time. By the time she made it to her car she was exhausted and wanted little else than to nod off as the chauffeur drove her to the waiting helicopter.<br />
<br />
She realized what was waiting for her the moment the car stopped at the platform, sensing the person inside before she ever even touched the doors to the helicopter – black, as everything else her sister made or bought – and certainly long before she saw the person sitting there waiting for her.<br />
<br />
They smiled at each other but said nothing as their transportation lifted from the platform to set off for their island home. Nana had not expected Lucy to be there, but once she started giving out personal information on that random talkshow, well, she really should have she supposed.<br />
<br />
As they left the city behind Lucy shook her head slightly, her smile turning a bit wry. “That certainly stirred things up, Nana.”<br />
<br />
“Mm, it sure did.” She gave her sister a knowing look. “Just like you intended me to do, right?” Lucy had never said a word about it, but Nana had still figured out what the general idea was. Over the years they had come to work like that, intuitively understanding what the other’s plan was and what was needed from them, without words.<br />
<br />
“You stirred up the hornet’s nest a few months ago with that blanket statement about the law, and let the world stew on that without a word of explanation. It was about time for me to step in and provide that explanation, for maximum effect... yes?”<br />
<br />
It had taken some time, when they were younger and Nana new to her place in the organization, before Nana realized that Lucy’s blundering and heavy-handed intimidation was, at least sometimes, intentional, and with the purpose of creating an opening for Nana to step in and smooth things over. Lucy set herself up to be the dark one, the unreasonable, the intimidating and disliked one, so that Nana could be the voice of reason, the approachable and diplomatic one... the one that was <em>liked</em>. It was their working dynamic and it worked well for them indeed, but it made Nana sad at times as she knew that this dark portrayal mirrored Lucy’s views of herself. She had honestly forgiven Lucy years ago, but Lucy would probably never truly forgive herself. <br />
<br />
“Of course.” Those pink eyes so similar to Nana’s own gazed upon Nana with affection and pride, until an expression of regret crossed them. “I didn’t expect you to go into such...” Lucy frowned and looked away briefly. “...personal detail. I thought you would speak of the forced euthanasia of diclonius infants, or the blatant stealing of them for lab experiments, not...” Lucy grimaced and let the words fade away. Nana knew what she meant.<br />
<br />
“I know. And I did speak of those things as well, but...” It was Nana’s turn to make a face. “A survivor’s account, even a brief one, has a bit more weight.”<br />
<br />
“You are so brave.” Lucy sighed. “I could not do what you did.”<br />
<br />
They shared a silent look of understanding. No, the past weighed far too heavily on Lucy for her to make herself vulnerable that way, and dwelling on past crimes, past pain, was a good way to stir that murderous rage she kept firmly in check these days. By and large, Lucy still hated humanity, or at least most of it, and she always would.<br />
<br />
“You certainly silenced that putrid little man but good.” Lucy teased gently, trying to lighten the mood. “I don’t think he got another word in after that.”<br />
<br />
“Oh please,” Nana made a silly face and waved it away. “as if that ignorant little man and his hate was all that important. He wasn’t the reason I spoke about the past. More importantly...” She pointed at what appeared to be an oversized cooler. “just <em>what</em> is <em>that</em>?”<br />
<br />
“<em>That</em>...” Lucy chuckled. “is what my wife ordered me to buy and bring for when your wife has cravings. As you can imagine, it is mostly ice-cream.”<br />
<br />
“Goodness.” Nana laughed a little herself. “I can imagine. There are times I’m convinced our daughter will be born frozen solid from all that ice-cream.”<br />
<br />
“Consider yourself fortunate that Mayu’s cravings are as normal as they are. Ai mostly ate french-fries in horrible combinations with things like pickles and chocolate sauce.” They both shuddered a little in remembrance. “I was convinced I was going to be the proud ‘father’ of a pink french-fry.”<br />
<br />
“And yet my little niece is a happily perfect, healthy and beautiful little girl.” The wide smile that the thought of her adorable niece brought to Nana’s lips faded suddenly with another alarming thought. “Uh oh.”<br />
<br />
“I was wondering when you’d realize.” Lucy smirked.<br />
<br />
“Maybe she didn’t watch the show?” Nana tried, hopefully. “Yuka is probably busy preparing for Kohta to take care of the kids on his own before she’s supposed to come here to be with Mayu, she probably didn’t have the time to watch television.”<br />
<br />
Lucy snorted. “You know full well she not only watched it, she recorded it as well. Yuka saves anything you appear in on television or in the papers.”<br />
<br />
Indeed Yuka’s maternal behaviour towards Nana and Mayu didn’t stop when the two girls grew up, moved out and got married, not in the slightest. Yuka kept diligent tabs on both of her ‘daughters’, and was even scheduled to come stay with them as Mayu’s due date grew near, as support.<br />
<br />
“I’d say that she’ll be contacting me sometime before tomorrow morning to demand that I arrange her transport.” Lucy grinned a bit wickedly, but patted Nana’s knee in a sympathetic gesture. “I suggest you get prepared before then, and I don’t mean just the guestroom.”<br />
<br />
Nana feigned a pout at her sister, but it soon melted into a happy little smile mirrored by Lucy. They sat in comfortable silence the last tiny stretch of the way, simply smiling contentedly as they watched through the windows as the island that had been so many things to them in their lives, meant so many things to each of them, rapidly grew closer. <br />
<br />
The island that now, because of the family that awaited them both there, was simply <em>home</em>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</span>Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-58832832184546826232013-02-14T14:37:00.000+01:002013-02-14T14:37:18.379+01:00An Evening VisitDOCTOR WHO-fanfic. It was <i>supposed</i> to be a quiet evening on Paternoster row, but when you're friends with a time-traveller, anything can happen.<br />
(MADAM VASTRA/JENNY, with brief mention of the DOCTOR/RIVER SONG)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0180')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0180')"><h4>Read AN EVENING VISIT</h4></a><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0180"><br />
<br />
Disclaimer: Madam Vastra, Jenny Flint and the other characters from Doctor Who all belong to BBC and perhaps some other people as well, unfortunately I have no clue. Once again thank you Moffat and co for creating the sword-slinging Silurian Detective and her lovely wife, please be kind enough to give us more of them? Like a series of their very own? ^_^<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>An Evening Visit</strong></span><br />
------------------------------------------------------------- <br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
It started out as such an ordinary day on Paternoster row. Not even the Great Detective had cases all the time, so on this particular day Vastra, Jenny and Strax were enjoying some peaceful time at home, all gathered in front of Vastra’s favourite fireplace.<br />
<br />
The most adventurous thing that had happened so far that day was that when Jenny entered the room she found Vastra fully engaged in her latest fashion attempt – wearing spectacles while she read. It was not that she needed them, oh no, Vastra had perfect Silurian vision, far superior to that of any mammal, she merely thought they might make her look more elegant while engaged in a book in front of the fire.<br />
<br />
Vastra did not, however, have ears to hang the delicate golden contraption from.<br />
<br />
After growing tired of watching her wife struggle with the spectacles, Jenny finally told Vastra that she was being a silly old lizard, removed the glasses and gave them to Strax. Before her wife could begin to pout and be upset, Jenny then sat in her lap and proceeded to tell her of all the many ways in which Vastra was elegant and beautiful all in her own self, and how she needed no enhancing trinkets to show that. This, interspersed with kisses and giggles, carried on for quite some time.<br />
<br />
Strax paid it no mind, used to such behaviour from the two women by now, and instead inspected the glasses thoroughly before removing the lenses, twisting and reshaping the frame into something else before reattaching the lenses. With a satisfied nod he then lumbered up the stairs with his new creation, to continue his latest crafting project in his own room where he had a box of similarly reworked supplies – his loot, as Jenny called it. All manner of bits and bobs ended up there, to either be remade into simple – and often unfinished – weaponry, or into small figures and resources for his strategy board.<br />
<br />
One never knew when they might need one, Strax figured, for unplanned declarations of war or conquest. In the meantime he practiced strategies on it, only to be better prepared when the day came, of course.<br />
<br />
When she found out about it Jenny had taken to giving Strax little things for his strategy board every once in a while. It pleased him that she understood and approved of the need to be prepared. For the holiday of Crisis-mass Strax had even received from her an entire box of tiny tin soldiers, perfect for creating human armies with. And once she saw the painted wooden crocodile in a doll dress that Strax used to represent Vastra with, Jenny took great care and effort into making small representations of herself, Vastra and Strax to give him. The crocodile she threw into the fireplace and made Strax promise to never tell Vastra about.<br />
<br />
It was into this tableau, with Strax tinkering away in his room and Vastra and Jenny snuggling on the couch, that the Tardis silently materialised.<br />
<br />
Vastra and Jenny barely had the time turn to stare at the blue construction that suddenly appeared in the corner of the room, before the door was flung open and the Doctor hurled himself through to a multitude of whistling, hooting and jingling.<br />
<br />
“Vastra! Jenny!” He cheered loudly, flinging his arms out and blowing once again on the strange contraption hung around his neck that hooted and whistled. “Congratulations!” He tossed the instrument over his shoulder and peered around at the room. “Am I early?”<br />
<br />
“No matter!” Grinning wildly he scurried back and pulled out a trolley overloaded with things from inside the Tardis. “See, I brought supplies!”<br />
<br />
He undid the strings to a pair of pink balloons and bounded over to Vastra, who was too stunned to do anything but stand there obediently as he placed one balloon in each of her hands, and then he hugged her. <br />
<br />
“Always the dark horse, you old rogue!” He laughed and clasped her shoulder in camaraderie, and managed to fasten a shiny purple party hat, complete with tiny stars and tinsel, upon her head before stepping back. “Always doing the impossible.”<br />
<br />
“And you...” He turned to Jenny and took her face in both hands as both his voice and his expression gentled. “Bless.” He murmured and kissed the top of her head.<br />
<br />
As Jenny twitched slightly in confusion yet still did her best to put on a brave smile – and Vastra glared at the Doctor for taking liberties with her wife – the happy man spun about and placed a matching set of pink balloons into Jenny’s hands, and a sparkly pink hat on her head.<br />
<br />
“There!” He declared, admiring his handiwork. “Now the two of you look the part, at least.” He pulled the trolley forward a bit, gesturing to it with pride. “I brought all the decorations needed, and party hats to go around. Oh, and wait ‘til you see the cake!” He waved back at the open Tardis door. “It is just the coolest.”<br />
<br />
He pranced around until he could lay an arm around each of their shoulders before continuing with great enthusiasm. “I’ve gotten bubbly that really bubbles and fizzy drinks that really fizzle, and a pudding that dances the Macarena!” He released them and rubbed his hands. “It is rainbow chocolate and toffee flavoured.”<br />
<br />
“Oh, almost forgot!” He dashed back to the cart and rummaged around in one of the boxes. “Aha! There.” He came back over to Jenny and, while hiding something in one hand, gently cupped one of hers with the other. “I got this for the lady of the hour.”<br />
<br />
Into Jenny’s hand he placed a palm-sized green egg made from some rubbery material. It tinkled slightly as it was jostled, a tiny bell-like sound.<br />
<br />
Jenny and Vastra both stared at it with round eyes. As the moment grew long and neither woman spoke or outwardly reacted, the Doctor’s wide grin began to falter, and he fidgeted.<br />
<br />
“Well,” He tried and scratched his head. “it’s just a little toy. It wobbles. And there’s this... sound.”<br />
<br />
“Um, Doctor?” Jenny asked meekly, still holding the little toy egg as if it was something fragile.<br />
<br />
“There will be presents of course, real prezzies, a bit later.” His cheerfulness picked back up.<br />
<br />
“Doctor?” Vastra tried instead.<br />
<br />
“River is supposed to bring ‘em. In fact...” He frowned a little and looked around. “I thought she’d be here by now.”<br />
<br />
“Doctor!”<br />
<br />
He took a closer look at Jenny. “Say, you certainly slimmed up fast.” Appearing to realize that he might just have blundered into a sensitive subject he started to grimace and wave his hands about. “I mean, not that you were big <em>before</em>... at least not<em> that</em> big...”<br />
<br />
<strong> “DOCTOR!”</strong><br />
<br />
“What! Yes! What?” He all but snapped to attention at Vastra’s bellow, but just as quickly relaxed his posture again, looking at them in confusion. <br />
<br />
“Wha... why...” Vastra sighed and tried to gather herself. “<em>What</em> is going <em>on</em> here?”<br />
<br />
He looked at them, tilted his head to the side and scratched at it again. “Your baby shower, of course. Or, hatchling shower. Or... egg shower, no that sounds bad – the celebration of your baby soon being in the world... thingy.”<br />
<br />
The women in the room blinked slowly while the Doctor waited, unusually patient for him, in silence for them to speak.<br />
<br />
“Doctor...” Jenny managed after a while, speaking slowly and carefully. “’ave you ‘it your ‘ead recently? What baby?”<br />
<br />
“Yours and Vastra’s, of course.”<br />
<br />
“But... you know that’s not possible.” Jenny looked at Vastra, bewildered. “’E knows that’s not possible, right?”<br />
<br />
“Hey, it’s not like I had anything to do with it.” He protested mildly. “You two did your... humanly silurianly... thingy, and some time later, out pops little Eggwardine and I’m an uncle, and...”<br />
<br />
Jenny mouthed ‘Eggwardine’ with a touch of horror, while Vastra snorted a bit in frustration.<br />
<br />
“Doctor, you know that Jenny and I cannot have a child together.” She sounded a bit testy, but the slight, not all human, twitching movement she did with her head betrayed that the subject was one that pained her. “Silurians and humans are completely different species, for one.”<br />
<br />
“Pishposh, oooh, nice word that, pishposh, I’ll have to use that more often...” He gave Vastra his widest grin. “Bottom line is, human-Silurian hybrids have been born before. Certainly not often, what with humans and Silurians usually being far too busy killing one another to get with the... baby-making thingies... but it <em>has</em> happened before.” <br />
<br />
“And since when has the impossible ever stopped you before?” He gave her a double thumbs up.<br />
<br />
These news stunned Vastra into silent immobility, so Jenny tried to take it from there. “What about the fact that we’re both... of the female persuasion?”<br />
<br />
“Ha!” He waved that off like the answer was obvious. “I’m not surprised that doesn’t stop a Silurian female, and it certainly didn’t stop old Vastra here from getting you preggers, now did it?” He paused suddenly. “Hey wait a minute...”<br />
<br />
“You <em>know</em> all this. We’ve talked about all of this before.” He blinked at them. “What time is this?”<br />
<br />
“Honestly, sweetie...” A fourth voice broke in, exasperated. “I can’t let you out of my sight for a moment, can I?”<br />
<br />
The Doctor winced and Jenny jumped as River Song walked in from somewhere to the side, dressed for a party. Only Vastra did not react as River strode up to the Doctor and grabbed him by the ear.<br />
<br />
“Ow!” He made a sheepish face towards Vastra and Jenny. “Oops. Sorry girls.” River turned him around and gave him a slight push towards the trolley. “I’ll just be leaving now.”<br />
<br />
River rolled her eyes a bit and smirked at Vastra and Jenny. “The only thing in creation that is truly impossible is that husband of mine.” She sighed a little, but it was an affectionate sound. “Right then, you two... remember to tell me about all this when the time comes, and to have me give him twenty minutes.”<br />
<br />
“You’ll know when.” River added when Jenny was about to ask. “See you later then.”<br />
<br />
With that she turned and marched into the Tardis while shouting. “<em>I’ll </em>drive this time!”<br />
<br />
The blue door closed behind her, and all was silence for a moment. Then the door flung open again and the Doctor came rushing out.<br />
<br />
“Sorry,” He looked apologetic as he took their balloons and little party hats away. “but you’ll get them right back! In, uhm, in a bit.”<br />
<br />
Another mad dash into the Tardis, and this time the great blue box soundlessly shimmered out of existence.<br />
<br />
Leaving Jenny and Vastra standing there, staring at a corner of the room in silence, until a tiny tinkle drew their attention. As one their eyes turned to the wobbly green egg in Jenny’s hand.<br />
<br />
Jenny blushed, hard.<br />
<br />
From Vastra there was a tiny noise, and then the tall, proud warrior simply fainted, sliding to the floor in a boneless heap while her wife yelped in surprise.<br />
<br />
Strax stuck his head through the doorway to stare at them. “Did I miss anything?”<br />
<br />
<br />
</span>Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-36394215556036658802013-02-11T10:26:00.002+01:002013-02-11T13:19:37.063+01:00Elementary ErrorsDOCTOR WHO-fanfic. Vastra does not approve of other people approaching <i>her</i> Jenny.<br />
(MADAM VASTRA/JENNY)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0179')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0179')"><h4>Read ELEMENTARY ERRORS</h4></a><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0179"><br />
<br />
Disclaimer: Madam Vastra, Jenny Flint and Strax all belong to whomever owns the rights to Doctor Who, of course. Not sure who that might be right now, but BBC for sure at least. Thank you Moffat and co for creating the sword-slinging Silurian Detective and her lovely wife, now please give them their own little mini-series... pretty please? :P <br />
Sort of leads up to the “Vastra Investigates” minisode/prequel to the Doctor Who episode “The Snowmen”.<br />
Also, I know that the real-life person Inspector Abberline is based on was married at this point in time, and that chances are that the Doctor Who Abberline is meant to be as well, but, well, it is a bit of creative license on my part. Hope nobody minds.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Elementary Errors</strong></span><br />
------------------------------------------------------------- <br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Upon their initial meeting, Vastra did not immediately think that Jenny Flint was beautiful. She learned rather quickly that Jenny was different from all the other pink, smelly and generally stupid apes that infested the Earth in the absence of her people, but that was all in regards to her inner qualities, such as Jenny’s intelligence or her bravery – and yes, perhaps her scent as well. Even from the very start, Jenny had smelled divine to Vastra.<br />
<br />
The thought that Jenny was beautiful in appearance as well came later, much later, when Vastra was already head over heels in love and rather at a loss at what to do about it. And even then it seemed a natural thing that Jenny was beautiful beyond compare in Vastra’s eyes, and Vastra’s eyes only... what others thought of her incredible human’s appearance did not occur to Vastra at all.<br />
<br />
As time passed she began to notice how some people reacted around Jenny, and drew – always later, much later, which was all in all probably a good thing – the conclusion that these mammals were attracted to her Jenny. <i>Her</i> Jenny.<br />
<br />
Vastra didn’t quite like the idea. At least no-one dared to approach Jenny that she knew of.<br />
<br />
And then... she was approached by that fool of an Inspector.<br />
<br />
Inspector Frederick Abberline of Scotland Yard. A respectable man, as human males go, and friendly enough, moderately open-minded and accommodating towards Vastra and her unique situation, yes, but not the keenest mind around. Vastra wasn’t sure in how many more ways she could explain or spell it out to him that she was a Silurian, not merely some disfigured ape, and moreover that Jenny was her mate.<br />
<br />
It was after a case solved, the other officers had left and Jenny had disappeared into the house while Vastra and Abberline were wrapping things up in the drawing room. Suddenly the man faltered, glanced towards the empty doorway, and leaned in towards Vastra with a peculiar look upon his face.<br />
<br />
“Madam Vastra, about Miss Jenny...” Abberline began awkwardly, looking abashed yet strangely hopeful. Vastra did not understand his behaviour enough to be worried, merely found it slightly curious. “That is, if I may be so bold...”<br />
<br />
“What is it, Inspector?” She urged mildly when the man’s speech tapered off again. What about her Jenny?<br />
<br />
“Just Abberline now, ma’am, I’m not asking as a man of the law.” He hurried to assure her, for what reason she could not fathom. “About Miss Jenny, ma’am... is she... stepping out with some fellow?”<br />
<br />
Confused, Vastra looked towards the door, trying to hear if Jenny was heading towards the front entrance for some reason, but she could distantly hear her rummaging around in the kitchen while singing to herself, so of course not. What did the Inspector mean?<br />
<br />
“Ah.” He caught the confused look and tried again. “Does she have a gentleman friend?”<br />
<br />
A gentleman friend? Vastra thought that was even stranger to ask. Her Jenny had friends, of course, although those from their own time era tended not to be that close, and then there was the fact that with a few exceptions, Jenny did not really befriend men. So a gentleman friend?<br />
<br />
“No.” Was the logical answer, although Vastra supposed that one might consider the Doctor a gentleman of sorts. She wouldn’t want to have to explain that though, so it was better to keep it simple. “No, she does not. Why do you ask?”<br />
<br />
Her first ‘no’ had sparked a beaming hopeful look in the man, a rather disturbing sight Vastra thought, and her question made him look bashful, wringing his hands together in front of him while looking at his feet.<br />
<br />
“Oh, I realize that Miss Jenny is a fair bit younger than myself, ma’am. And that she is great bit more beautiful than a fellow like me deserves. But...” He glanced up at Vastra and straightened slightly before his eyes shifted away again. “I’m successful in my chosen profession, and I earn a good, honest living. I might not be a rich man, but she would want for nothing, with me, and I’d make an honest woman out of her, if it came to that.”<br />
<br />
Frowning deeply, Vastra tried to decipher the man’s meaning. “Honest? Are you saying that my Jenny is somehow dishonest?” She did not notice herself that she had slipped right into her most intimidating mode, glaring at the blushing Inspector. “And what exactly is it that you feel that she should lack or want for now?”<br />
<br />
“Ah, no, no.” Abberline backpedalled nervously. “I didn’t mean... I simply meant...” He wiped his hands on the sides of his jacket before straightening it, most likely without noticing it himself. “I meant to say, if Miss Jenny isn’t already seeing a fellow...” He caught Vastra’s look and continued even more nervously. “Fancying a lad...” <br />
<br />
“Dating someone?” By the end he was almost desperate, but Vastra’s sudden shock must have been confirmation that she finally grasped what he was saying. “Then I might ask her if she would consider going out with me, perhaps on a stroll and a visit to the new coffeehouse next time I am off from work?”<br />
<br />
For a moment Vastra felt as if all the air in the room, indeed all the air in the building, had compressed upon her head, pushing down with force. She had the uncomfortable feeling that her mouth was open and jaw working without a sound leaving her lips. It took a long moment for her to process the meaning of all this and what Inspector Abberline’s intentions were, but once she did she could feel the flames of rage igniting within.<br />
<br />
“Or would Miss Jenny be more inclined to accompany me if I ask her out to something fancier?” The clueless man rattled on, not noticing how Vastra’s hand instinctively reached for her sword, only to twitch helplessly as the blade was not there. “I could...”<br />
<br />
“She is married.” Vastra blurted, quite without either thought or grace.<br />
<br />
“...that is...” The Inspector blinked, the confusion his this time around. “Pardon? What was that?”<br />
<br />
“She is married.” Vastra repeated, a little more in control of herself now, but still very much wanting to rip Inspector Abberline limb from limb. “Wed.” She glared at Abberline. “Bespoused.”<br />
<br />
“A-are you saying that she is...”<br />
<br />
“That she is married.” As she spoke Vastra took a warning step forward, her narrowed eyes a danger that would have lesser men – or at least smarter men – quickly find reason to be elsewhere. “Yes.”<br />
<br />
“My word.” Abberline frowned, clearly thinking hard. “Are you quite sure?”<br />
<br />
“Indeed I am.” In Vastra’s opinion the Inspector did not look nearly alarmed or frightened enough. She took another step and let her voice take on a steely intensity that by rights should cut the male in half. “<i>Married.</i>”<br />
<br />
“Because I think-“<br />
<br />
“<b>MARRIED!</b>” Vastra bellowed in fury, suddenly looming over Abberline, so close that the man instinctively leaned back to get away. <br />
<br />
Somewhere deep inside his psyche a small frightened mammal was covering before a roaring reptilian predator, and finally even Inspector Abberline was overtaken by the natural urge to run for his life. “Oh good lord,” He muttered under his breath as he scrambled to the door, all sense of dignity forgotten. “oh good lord!”<br />
<br />
Vastra whipped around to glare after him as he left, fighting the urge to hiss and lash out with her venom. With heavy steps she followed out into the hallway, but the Inspector could be quite the fast little weasel when properly motivated.<br />
<br />
With her emotions in turmoil and trembling from a surge of adrenaline yet robbed of the intended outlet, Vastra lumbered on towards the kitchen and the scent and warmth of her beloved.<br />
<br />
“What ‘appened?” Jenny asked as she put a serving tray down on the counter and turned towards Vastra. “I ‘eard such a racket.”<br />
<br />
Jenny’s eyes widened as she noticed the state her wife was in, but she didn’t get the chance to ask as Vastra lumbered across the floor, engulfed her wife in her arms, and kissed her ardently.<br />
<br />
“Oh!” Jenny gasped after a long, intense moment, and then giggled as gloved hands wandered. “Really, darling? The kitchen?”<br />
<br />
There came an answering giggle from the area of Jenny’s neck, before there was a brief nip, and then lips were quite eagerly otherwise occupied.<br />
<br />
------------------ <br />
<br />
“...I fell in love.” Vastra finished her brief explanation, giving her lovely wife a besotted look. Jenny’s smile was small but pleased in response and there was a soft look in dark eyes that promised things, later, when they were alone.<br />
<br />
“What, with the Turkish fellow?” Inspector Abberline asked with mild interest, breaking the moment and once again proving his enduring stupidity.<br />
<br />
Vastra blinked and Jenny froze, neither quite sure how they ought to react. Vastra had after all only just finished explaining, once again, that Strax was in fact not any kind of ‘Turkish fellow’, so it was perhaps not so surprising that he had failed to notice that Vastra had very clearly wanted to kiss her wife just then.<br />
<br />
“No.” Vastra managed finally, her voice somewhat strained. “<i><b>Not</b></i> with the Turkish fellow.” She wrapped an arm around her beloved and leaned in, proudly claiming her wife, while Jenny beamed.<br />
<br />
For a moment Vastra felt sure he was not going to get it this time either, and wondered if she should simply kiss Jenny. She was after all still a bit sore with Abberline for his intention to proposition her mate. Then the unbelievable happened.<br />
<br />
“Oh... good lord.” Inspector Abberline gasped and blinked. “<i>Oh good lord.</i>”<br />
<br />
Vastra, immensely pleased, couldn’t contain a burst of giggling laugher at that. Triumph at last.<br />
<br />
She lowered her hand somewhat and gently urged her giggling wife away, delighted when Jenny got a little playfully demonstrative herself as they left.<br />
<br />
Take <i>that</i>, you silly ape.<br />
<br />
<br />
</span>Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-87772061035137628462013-02-08T16:10:00.002+01:002013-02-08T16:10:44.846+01:00Of Love and WeaponryDOCTOR WHO-fanfic. She might be small for a human female, but the wrath and jealousy of Jenny Flint were forces that not even Vastra would overlook.<br />
(MADAM VASTRA/JENNY)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0178')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0178')"><h4>Read OF LOVE AND WEAPONRY</h4></a><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0178"><br />
<br />
Disclaimer: Madam Vastra, Jenny Flint and Strax all belong to whomever owns the rights to Doctor Who, of course. Not sure who that might be right now, but BBC for sure at least. Thank you Moffat and co for creating the sword-slinging Silurian Detective and her lovely wife, now please give them their own little mini-series... pretty please? :P <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong> Of Love and Weaponry</strong></span><br />
-------------------------------------------------------------------- <br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
”What, pray tell, are you doing with that?” She asked somewhat warily, watching the petite woman hefting the rather large weapon.<br />
<br />
“Preparin’.” Was the terse answer, just barely gritted out from bared teeth as tiny knobs were pulled, switches switched, and various indicators blinked and beeped upon the shiny metal casing.<br />
<br />
Jenny Flint was in quite a mood.<br />
<br />
“The Doctor gave us that for emergencies only, dear.” Vastra tried again, torn between caution – Jenny’s temper was not to be trifled with, for all her deceptive size, Vastra knew – and amusement and not quite certain what had brought this on. There was a small element of arousal as well, of course, seeing her beloved handling weaponry tended to have that effect on her.<br />
<br />
“T’is an emergency.” Jenny growled darkly, dangerously, and not noticing the small smile she brought to green lips. “If that... <i><b>man</b></i>” Vastra admired the venom and utter contempt Jenny managed to pack into that one small word. “thinks ‘e can come ‘ere with ‘is filthy words an’ greasy ‘ands... there will be an emergency.” She hefted her much too large weapon threateningly. “A big one.”<br />
<br />
A quiet sigh of relief escaped Vastra as she realized that at least it was not she that had unwittingly brought her beloved’s ire upon herself, this time.<br />
<br />
“While I agree with your assessment of Lord Collins, dear, and will quite happily have him mysteriously disappear if you wish it,” She flashed a winning smile at the frowning woman, whose expression rather despite herself softened slightly at the sight. “<i>this</i>...” Vastra put a careful hand on one of the barrels. “will take most of our lovely house along with him, as well as a fair chunk of the neighbourhood.” She paused and smirked a little at Jenny. “I hardly feel that this vermin of a male warrants that large a sacrifice from us.” A slight pause. “Do you, my dear?”<br />
<br />
A reluctant grunt is her reply, before Jenny has released the weapon and allowed Vastra to deftly pluck it away. She crosses her arms moodily over her chest as Vastra quickly runs her fingers over switches and settings until the weapon is idle.<br />
<br />
One weapon neutralized, Vastra thinks as she places it just out of sight in a nearby doorway, leaving it there for Strax to retrieve, and one more to go. And her beloved requires a bit more effort to disarm, and, Vastra proudly admits to herself, is probably nearly as dangerous if detonated.<br />
<br />
“Try to endure his presence for now.” She says soothingly to the huffy figure that is currently glaring at their front entrance as if the doors themselves had committed the gravest of offence. “The Inspector has to bring him because of this case, but I doubt they will linger more than they need to. The case is all but solved, and after we are unlikely to cross paths with Lord Collins again.”<br />
<br />
“You didn’t ‘ear what ‘e said.” Jenny growled again, causing Vastra to smile at her fondly. “You didn’t ‘ear what ‘e said about you.”<br />
<br />
“That he boasted that he would, how did he put it? Free me from the sad solitude of a widow’s life, and add my fortune and London fame to his own? I believe he said something to that effect.” Vastra’s lips twisted a bit in disgust, but she was still more faintly amused by his ignorance than she was offended by his arrogance. She placed little importance to people of his sort anyway. “I overheard him speaking to one of his companions last time we met.”<br />
<br />
“You didn’t ‘ear the rest of it then?” Jenny’s dark eyes bored into Vastra’s pale blue ones intently. “You didn’t ‘ear what ‘e said ‘bout you, what ‘e said ‘ed... do to you.”<br />
<br />
Vastra blinked slowly. No, indeed she had not heard anything along the lines of what Jenny’s anger and expression suggested, although she could imagine the gist of it, and she wouldn’t have thought Lord Collins to be quite that bold. It wouldn’t really have mattered to her unless he tried something with her in person, at which point Vastra would put him in his place of course, but this... that impudent little man had upset Vastra’s mate, and for that she might just have to make good on her earlier words of a sudden disappearance.<br />
<br />
Gently she pulled Jenny to her feet and wrapped her arms around her. Jenny shuddered a little and returned the embrace.<br />
<br />
“Be brave, little one.” Vastra murmured into a nearby pink ear. “Today’s meeting will be as short as I can make it, after which he shan’t have reason to come near us again. And if he returns for any other purpose...” She smirked, knowing that Jenny would hear it even if she could not see it. “Well, you shan’t have to cook for me that day.”<br />
<br />
Jenny chuckled quietly, as Vastra knew she would, and they drew apart slightly to look at one another.<br />
<br />
“They will be here any moment now.” Vastra sighed regretfully, she would much rather have spent the day attending her beloved and her upset feelings, but these little charades with Scotland Yard and the like were, unfortunately, a necessity of the profession they had chosen. Or that had chosen them, Vastra was unsure of which claim would be more true, honestly. “We had best prepare.”<br />
<br />
“Alright. I’ll bring the tea to the study.” Jenny acquiesced, but spared one last dark, serious look at Vastra. “If ‘e so much as touches you though...”<br />
<br />
Her reply was a tinkling little laugh and a loving kiss placed on the top of her head, before Jenny relented and made her way towards the kitchen.<br />
<br />
She didn’t see Vastra nimbly pick up the hidden weapon and on quick and silent feet secure it under coded lock on the other side of the building.<br />
<br />
----------------- <br />
<br />
It very nearly could have been over and done with without too much of an incident, well, without outright threat of violence at least, but alas it was not to be. Lord Collins, whether emboldened by the presence of the companion he had brought despite the Inspector’s protests, or the generous glass of fine whisky that he served himself from Vastra’s decanter display, decided to act quite... foolishly.<br />
<br />
He had, almost from the moment he stepped inside the door, hovered just shy of outright rudeness with his suggestive remarks veiled as flattery. Vastra had ignored him for most part, feigned not to hear or notice his behaviour, or even openly ignored him to instead discuss the case with Inspector Abberline. <br />
<br />
The Inspector, while not a bright man by any stretch, had eventually caught on enough to become embarrassed and tried to steer the conversation in a way that blocked any untoward comments. Once he realized that Lord Collins was availing himself to Vastra’s decanters quite unbidden he stumbled through an apology to the ladies present and then attempted to march the other men with him out of the house. It was a good attempt, but unfortunately it failed.<br />
<br />
Lord Collins’ companion smoothly managed to derail the Inspector, luring him out ahead of them and allowing Lord Collins to remain behind with Vastra. Jenny was by convention rather forced to see the two men to the door, leaving Vastra alone with the smirking fellow who did not appear to have the slightest clue whom he was dealing with.<br />
<br />
To be fair, it did not take long. Whatever was said or done in the study, it did not take long at all until Vastra, her bearing as commanding as it could get and her demeanour forbidding, threw open the door that had mysteriously closed once Jenny and the others had stepped away from it. Lord Collins staggered through it, his eyes wide and his face pale, while clutching at one wrist as if it was broken. Perhaps it was.<br />
<br />
His momentum was brought to a halt by the sight of Jenny, lounging in a large settee in the hallway with one leg thrown over the other, wearing the tight pants, vest and boots outfit that might make other people of her era think that she was preparing to go riding.<br />
<br />
She was also calmly polishing her katana.<br />
<br />
Vastra’s annoyance faded and a small but delighted smile emerged, as the sight of her wife in tight pants and wielding a blade always tended to lift her spirit. It also made her wish she could just toss the annoying ape present through the nearest window, so that she could ravish this lovely woman of hers as was good and proper.<br />
<br />
The blade twisted and twirled as Jenny peered down its length, ostensibly looking at its shiny edge. The end of it weaved lazily in the air quite close to Lord Collins, at first directed at his face but lowering with the twirls and twists until, with a few absent-minded jabs, it threatened the front of his pants.<br />
<br />
Beaming with love and pride at her wife, Vastra didn’t care if she sounded unbearably smug. “As I said, Lord Collins... I am a <i>quite</i> happily married woman.”<br />
<br />
Jenny glanced up at her and smirked, the two of them momentarily locked in that gaze while their visitor, beyond pale by now and with both hands protecting the front of his pants, tried very hard not to relieve himself.<br />
<br />
Into this tableau Strax walked, his arms packed to overflowing with knives and blades of all kinds and sizes. “I brought them, as you requested.” He piled all the weapons onto the decorative table, picked up a few that spilled over, and turned to Jenny with an undeniably excited expression.<br />
<br />
“Are we declaring war upon someone?” He asked eagerly, glancing from the weapons, to Jenny, to Vastra. “Is it the Moonites? Shall I fetch the grenades and acid fish?”<br />
<br />
Then he noticed the man cowering next to them. “A-HA! It must be you, boy!” He quickly glanced at Vastra and Jenny to check if he had gotten the gender right this time. They both smiled at him, and Strax straightened himself a little bit, even happier now. “Are we to declare war upon this disgusting human?”<br />
<br />
“Maybe.” Jenny smirked as Vastra gave her a brief mock reproachful look.<br />
<br />
Strax’ grin was so wide it threatened to split his face, and he bounced slightly in place. “Really? I mean-“ He cleared his throat, then spun to point a threatening finger at Lord Collins while thundering with a surprisingly cheerful voice. “We declare war upon your House, filthy human scum!” <br />
<br />
Vastra and Jenny had explained to him, repeatedly, that Earth was their planet too, so there would be no declaring war upon the home planet of anyone actually living on Earth. On some days Strax even remembered that, and had tried to adjust the traditional declaration accordingly.<br />
<br />
Clasping Lord Collins’ shoulder with one large hand, Strax began waddling him down the hallway while loudly and happily extolling the skills and feats of them as Sontaran warriors – forgetting for a moment that neither Jenny nor Vastra were Sontaran – and informing the whimpering man alternately to dread and to look forward to their charge.<br />
<br />
“Look at ‘im.” Jenny marvelled as she sheathed her sword. “’E’s so happy.” She looked at Vastra. “Couldn’t we let ‘im blow up ‘is privy at least?”<br />
<br />
“Mmm. I suppose so.” Vastra paid not one ounce of attention to Strax or their visitor, she was quite busy staring increasingly hungrily at her incredibly delightful wife. “As long as no-one gets hurt.” She murmured absently, her eyes glued to her wife’s pretty pink lips.<br />
<br />
Smiling to herself as she noticed Vastra’s preoccupation, Jenny put the sword aside and began pulling at Vastra’s long black gloves. “What did ‘e do?”<br />
<br />
“He spouted some trite nonsense.” Vastra hummed in approval as Jenny removed one of the gloves and started in on the other. “Offered to take pity on my poor ostracized self and rescue me from widowhood.” The other glove came off. “And he grabbed at my posterior.”<br />
<br />
The smile vanished from Jenny’s lips. “WHAT?!”<br />
<br />
“Well he tried.” Vastra quickly tried to placate. “I believe I may have broken his arm in punishment.”<br />
<br />
“Strax!” Jenny shouted, and the Sontaran froze in the doorway, one hand still holding Lord Collins in place outside while the other man desperately tried to flee. “You ‘eard about the privy?”<br />
<br />
“Yes!” Strax called back happily. “I will blow it up magnificently!”<br />
<br />
“Make sure Collins is close enough to be introduced to the contents, yeah?” Jenny requested evilly while trying to pretend that she hadn’t been reaching back for her sword.<br />
<br />
Strax whooped in delight, let Lord Collins go while he howled after him. “LOOK FORWARD TO MY ACT OF WAR, FILTHY HUMAN!”<br />
<br />
Then the door slammed, and Jenny and Vastra heard Strax cackling with glee as he ran on heavy feet towards his room to spend hours planning out his attack.<br />
<br />
Once Strax was suitably far away and the two of them were alone, Vastra pulled Jenny to her feet and tightly into Vastra’s arms. Jenny wrapped her arms around Vastra’s neck, and then proved the superiority of pants by wrapping her legs around her wife as well.<br />
<br />
They shared a smirk and a long, smouldering look before Vastra leaned in and inhaled, deeply, and murmured into Jenny’s ear. “Bed?”<br />
<br />
Jenny growled back, playfully. “Bed.”<br />
<br />
<br />
</span>Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-6240703687871157752012-07-16T17:38:00.000+02:002012-07-16T17:40:24.097+02:00Blue-Eyed MonsterORIGINAL. Why is she the only one to see what is lurking in the shadows?<br />
<br />
Doesn't have a pairing yet, as such. As it is part of a longer story in my head, if I manage to write a sequel eventually it will have f/f though.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0177')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0177')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0177')"><h4>Read Blue-Eyed Monster</h4></a><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0177"><br />
<br />
<br />
Disclaimer: None needed, my story. Might be a bit dark, I suppose, and doesn’t have a pairing as such... yet. If I manage to write a sequel one day it will.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Blue-Eyed Monster</strong></span><br />
----------------------------------------------------------- <br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
My eyes are blue.<br />
<br />
They are in fact such a startling bright and intense blue that one would expect them to belong to some tall, pale, white-blonde person from a cold country far away. Although I fit the pale criteria, I am just an average height brunette, born in a big city far away from exotic cold places or anything of the like. In fact I’m kind of plain, a fact hammered into me in high school, when the relative attractiveness of my unusual eyes was something I was held accountable for by the more popular girls there.<br />
<br />
This isn’t the reason to notice my eyes though. Not at all.<br />
<br />
The real reason is far worse.<br />
<br />
-------------- <br />
<br />
The first time I saw one of <em>them</em> I was very young. Too young to know that there was indeed a <em>them</em>, or to even remember now just how young that was, there was only <em>him</em>. I remember <em>him</em>.<br />
<br />
It was dark and I wouldn’t have seen much at all if there hadn’t been a full moon shining in through the window. He stood over me, so tall, so large, and so unreal in the moonlight. His white hair blazed as it stood up from his head like he had been one of those funny characters in the Sunday morning cartoons, but there was nothing funny about him. Nothing human either.<br />
<br />
His skin was pale and his fingers long, narrow claws that reached for me in the dark, and with that absolute certainty one rarely ever get to feel once childhood is over, I knew I was going to get eaten. His long fangs glinted in the light as he opened his mouth, preparing to gobble me up. It wasn’t that which scared me most.<br />
<br />
It was his eyes. They were a burning red, a colour I had never seen on any person before, and even in only the moonlight I could tell that there was blood coming from them, like tears. I couldn’t scream, I couldn’t run, and I couldn’t look away.<br />
<br />
I stared right up into those eyes, waiting for the monster to eat me.<br />
<br />
Because of that I didn’t miss his reaction. He froze, leaning over me, and frowned. Slowly his great maw became smaller and closed, hiding his sharp teeth as he stared down at me. His arms drew back as we stared at one another, and his expression changed.<br />
<br />
He disappeared so quickly afterwards that I never knew how or where, and, unfrozen from his spell of silence, I screamed as loud as my tiny lungs would let me. <br />
<br />
It was a nightmare, my parents told me, and for years I believed them. Contorted memories of that moment, of that night, visited my dreams often enough as a child that it didn’t seem like a lie. Somewhere deep in my heart though I knew it was, and I never forgot those bleeding red eyes in the moonlight.<br />
<br />
It wasn’t until many years later that I realized that one of the expressions that fleeted past in that brief moment before he disappeared had been the most frightening of all. Not hunger, confusion or even fear.<br />
<br />
Recognition.<br />
<br />
-------------- <br />
<br />
The next time I saw one of <em>them</em> I was almost ten years old, convinced I was a big girl and straining to prove it to my parents the way children often do at that age. As I stood there at the bus stop with my mother in some part of town unknown to me and for a reason I’ve long since forgotten, the way her warm hand closed around mine when I sought it out was a shield against old nightmares come to life. It must have surprised her how I suddenly clung to her like that, how I was clingy with both my parents for days afterwards, but she never questioned it. She just smiled lovingly and reassuringly at her little girl.<br />
<br />
Because she didn’t see them. She couldn’t.<br />
<br />
I saw two of them that day at the bus stop, two ghoulishly white figures standing cloaked in the shadows between the buildings across the street. They stood right there, staring at me with their glowing red eyes, shaded but otherwise fully visible by a fairly busy street where people were coming and going as I watched. No-one else ever looked their way. No-one else saw them.<br />
<br />
The bus came and I hurried my mother to get us both on it, heart pounding in my ears and tears stinging at my eyes. The last I saw of those two were their pale, hairless heads turning as one to continue staring at me as the bus drove away. I learned two things that day.<br />
<br />
My nightmares are real, and I am the only one that can see them.<br />
<br />
-------------- <br />
<br />
For years afterwards I stayed in the parts of town well known to me, I was obedient and well-behaved, never tried to go off on childhood adventures or stayed out after dark. I kept my head down and my eyes to myself, while developing a way to always carefully observe my surroundings out of the corner of my eye. My parents were pleased with me this way, the only concern they had was that my fear of the dark returned that day at the bus stop and never really left, but they were kind and understanding, and did not make a big deal out of their daughter sleeping with a light on.<br />
<br />
They of course did not know of my nightly inspections of doors, windows and vents, the many nights I crept through the house to make sure that they and my little brother were safe as they slept, or the nights I spent simply awake, clutching my flashlight and a pathetically small pocketknife as I stared at the window in my room.<br />
<br />
Nothing ever came for us there, and by the age of thirteen I was beginning to relax a little, beginning to doubt what I knew and what I had seen. Problems with girls at school took up more of my thoughts than the fear of catching sight of something pale and menacing hiding in the shadows. That was the summer we went to visit relatives in the capital.<br />
<br />
My cousin was two and a half years older than I, and I idolized her. She was pretty and popular and bold and all the things I was not, but she liked me anyway. We had spent two weeks there with me being her shadow, but rather than being annoyed with me my cousin always smiled brightly and dragged me along to show me something else, something new. My parents adored her for it, for helping their awkward little girl out of her shell, that much I could tell even then.<br />
<br />
What neither my parents nor hers knew was that my cousin had made a boyfriend that her parents would not have approved of, an older, wilder boy of the kind that gets labelled dangerous or bad news. We’d giggled about it, and on that fateful night I helped her sneak away to meet up with him, backing her up when she lied about where we were going to be. My parents were shocked, really, because I would normally never willingly be out that late, never risk being outside when it was anywhere close to dark, but I swallowed down that fear for her sake. We were supposed to be back before it really got dark anyway.<br />
<br />
Exactly what happened between them I would never know. He had a car and some friends with him, and he took us further away from my cousin’s home than either of us had intended and I was comfortable with. Before I knew it though my cousin and I were let out at a random street, her face upset and his angry, while the boys peeled out and drove away. She took my hand and said that we had to find a bus stop or a phone, but she sobbed as she said it. Finally we had to sit down somewhere because she was just outright crying, and I honestly don’t think she knew where we were anymore than I did.<br />
<br />
The shadows grew long and my fear screamed at me. If only I had listened, if only I had yanked her with me and kept us moving, anywhere at all. But she was so upset and I didn’t know what to do.<br />
<br />
I don’t know where they came from, I didn’t see them when they grabbed us and something hit me very hard in the head because I blacked out for a while. To this day I wish I hadn’t woken up again that night.<br />
<br />
But I did and we were in an alley, not far from where we had been actually, and it was dark. The light from the street didn’t reach us there, only the light of a rising moon did, but it was enough for me to see. Her. Them.<br />
<br />
The first thing I saw was her blonde hair and her hand, convulsing it seemed, and as my eyes cleared I thought for one split second that she was being raped. Then I saw that the truth was far worse, because then I saw <em>them</em>.<br />
<br />
There were two of them, pale and twisted and naked, their maws so disgustingly big and disjointed. The noise they made was indescribable as they devoured my cousin while she was still alive. Her head lolled back and she looked at me, looked me right into the eyes, and I saw that what they were doing was not just to her body. I could literally see in her eyes how they were tearing her soul apart and devouring that too, the agony, the violation and despair in her before her life finally ended.<br />
<br />
Her eyes turned glassy, dead, and at that moment I wanted to be dead too. I never heard the third one come up behind me, didn’t even try to make my weak body struggle as he lifted me, didn’t scream as his long black tongue coiled itself around my neck and down into the neck of my sweater. For a moment it tightened around my throat and I thought it would strangle me, but then the creature was just... gone, and I fell back to the ground. A large, grotesque white head swam into view, its tongue still hanging from its maw as it stared at me.<br />
<br />
Those inhuman, bleeding red eyes looked down at me with a very human expression. Fear.<br />
<br />
<em>It</em> was afraid of <em>me</em>.<br />
<br />
That was when I heard the other sounds. The sounds of voices, human voices, and of running. They drew back, all three of them, towards the deeper dark as a policeman with a flashlight came running towards us. Another joined him and I was jostled, my vision blurring over.<br />
<br />
Before everything went black though I saw <em>them</em>, retreating into the shadows while staring fearfully at me, and how the police never even seemed to notice that they were right there.<br />
<br />
-------------- <br />
<br />
My family was broken after that. I spent time in the hospital, had some injuries and a bad concussion, which helped me when the police came to take my statement. Apparently it was believable enough that I was knocked out when we were grabbed and that I only came to a little, just enough to see that there was someone with my cousin but that it was too dark and my brains too scrambled for me to give a description. It was also believable apparently to the therapist I was sent to that I didn’t really remember anything other than that, and my family learned to accept that I wouldn’t talk about what happened. <br />
<br />
The police continued to search for the murderer and for the rest of my poor cousin’s body, but neither would ever be found. How could they, when the police had stood no more than a few arms lengths away from her murderers and never even saw them?<br />
<br />
The year that followed was blurry for me, between hospitals, police visits, night terrors and therapy, and before I knew it I was fourteen and had missed almost a full year of school. Thankfully I had always been a good student, and was smart enough that it was decided that if I had a private tutor I could catch up and join my age mates in the final exams. My parents scrounged up the money for a tutor and I threw myself into the studies, grateful really that I wasn’t forced to leave the house much yet.<br />
<br />
Needless to say I didn’t sleep well at night, but when I did manage to sleep I would awake, every time, with that horrible fearful question ringing in me. If these creatures of the darkest of nightmares were so afraid of me that they ran from the sight of me... then what did that make <em>me</em>? What <em>was</em> I?<br />
<br />
What was I?<br />
<br />
-------------- <br />
<br />
Fifteen years old and school, of course, was hell. I went from big news to juicy gossip to the freak girl and a target for bullies, much as I had expected. I didn’t care. For a while it just aggravated the bullies more that I honestly didn’t give a damn about their childish and pathetic cruelty, but as the months drew on they began to fear me. I was too unpredictable in the way I reacted, carried something scary about me in the look in my eyes, even though I never raised either voice or a hand against anyone. I just wanted to be left alone.<br />
<br />
And eventually, I was. The little trolls at school ignored me for most part, and while it left me friendless that was fine with me. I did what I was supposed to, I studied and got the grades that would please my parents, but other than that I remained at home, near my family. Always alert, always searching.<br />
<br />
I kept watch. And I saw <em>them</em>.<br />
<br />
Books had not given me much to go on, the occasional myth that might or might not have the smallest of references to what I was searching for at the most, but even that was more than the Internet had to offer. If the truth was out there in any way, well, I wasn’t the girl to find it.<br />
<br />
But I caught glimpses of them.<br />
<br />
Not often, and thankfully only far from my home, but towards the end of my fifteenth year I had observed<em> them</em>, however fleetingly, at least a dozen times. Never more than a few at a time, at most, but unless I somehow managed to spot the same ones over and over it gave me a general idea for what these monsters looked like, pale, bald, twisted and emaciated faces and large, deformed ears. They kept to the shadows and were either naked or in dark rags, and no-one ever looked their way.<br />
<br />
They so clearly were not human, and everything in me roiled at the sight of them. My cousin’s eyes as she died always resurfaced in my thoughts, and my throat burned with acid every time.<br />
<br />
Then as I was about to turn sixteen, a mere month before the date itself in fact, my family moved. A bigger city, a better job for my father and a considerably larger sum of money for my family to live on was the cause, yet my parents were so concerned, so apologetic to me for going through with the move. Reassurances on my part mattered little, because I was considered well-meaning but frail, and the move could further damage my fragile psyche.<br />
<br />
In truth I was torn about the move, but not for any reason my parents would have understood. My increased observations of them in my city, in more and more parts of it and more often, had been worrying me greatly for a time. The city was not safe, if it ever had been, and how long until they had found their way to my neighbourhood? My little brother was getting to be too old for my mother and father to keep an eye on him whenever he wasn’t at school anymore, and I was getting to be more and more anxious just to see my parents go off to work every day.<br />
<br />
But this new city was an unknown element too, I knew nothing of safe or dangerous areas, or if indeed <em>they</em> were here too. I could not even tell if the neighbourhood that we moved to, pretty and pleasant though it looked, was in any way safe.<br />
<br />
Sleep became a thing of the past as my silent, secret patrols increased tenfold. Simply observing from the corner of my eye was no longer enough, and I scoured my surroundings to make sure my family would be safe.<br />
<br />
My parents called me jittery, and worried for my mental health. Once or twice therapy was brought up, but I believe my mother and father lacked the heart to make me go just because I wasn’t settling in easily in another city. At my new school my age-mates quickly realized that there was something weird about me, so while I was a hot topic for gossip, especially since the public version of what happened to my cousin made the rounds, I was left alone.<br />
<br />
The first time I saw them in my new home I was just walking down the street towards my mother’s workplace, having gotten off school early and was supposed to meet my mother for lunch. I froze at the sight, stopped dead right there in the busy street, and stared more obviously than I had at any of their kind for years.<br />
<br />
There were three of them, just standing in the shadows at the mouth of a small side-street, and they looked nothing like I had come to expect. These were not bald, twisted figures in rags, nightmares hanging on the edge of vision with open maws glittering with far too many teeth or with their black tongues hanging out. Not at all.<br />
<br />
For one thing these three figures were clearly female, the first I’d seen of their kind. Tall and thin and just as pale, their white hair in shocking contrast to the black clothing they wore. Their mouths were closed and looked far more human than those I had seen before, overall they just looked more human, but every instinct in me screamed that they were not.<br />
<br />
They noticed me, noticed my staring, and alerted those glowing red eyes zeroed in on me with a familiar intensity. They shifted, one of them moving as if to walk towards me, and that broke their spell over me.<br />
<br />
I turned and I ran like I never had before, my heart pounding hard in my chest as I raced towards my mother’s work. I couldn’t explain to her why I was in such a state when she found me, and that led to further awkwardness at home and more concern for my parents. After that I lived in fear whenever my poor mother left for work, despite knowing that she drove to work and only left it for the occasional lunch down the street. The risk was still too great, and that fear and uncertainty was not easy on me.<br />
<br />
Finally the fear for my family’s safety overrode my own terror, and I went out into this new city on my own. Even though I was dizzy and sick to my stomach in abject fear of what I would find, or worse what would find me, I set out on foot and by bus to try and determine whether the areas the members of my family most often moved in would be safe.<br />
<br />
For all I knew the neighbourhood we lived in was safe enough, I had already patrolled it several times and never caught sight of anything dangerous, but I wasn’t quite so foolish as to trust that entirely. The memory of that first creature, the white-haired male that wanted to eat me, silhouetted against my old bedroom window in the house where we used to live remained with me, and I never saw one of <em>them</em> in that neighbourhood again after that.<br />
<br />
The area around the school yielded nothing, much as I had thought. In general the area around the school was open, well lit, and seemed to lack any larger shaded areas that might hide them. There was a small park next to the playground and the basketball court, but there were not enough dense clusters of trees to obscure the view from the buildings around it, so I dismissed that.<br />
<br />
I passed by the movie theatres, the pizza parlours and burger places on my way towards where my father worked. Those streets were all large, well lit and crowded, and probably seemed safe to other people. Even the side-streets were wide and well lit, but all I could think of was of how many of those surrounding shops would close once darkness fell, and how many of those inviting lights in the windows would be turned off by then.<br />
<br />
My anxiety rose as I came closer to the district where my father worked. The buildings right near his work were all tall and the streets wide, but no more than a stone’s throw away and the dark and empty windows of unused warehouses warned me to turn back. I didn’t dare to continue that way and choose instead to cut across town towards where my mother worked.<br />
<br />
It didn’t take long for the wide, well-lit streets to narrow, for the buildings to grow older with gaps between them, dark alleyways and narrow side-streets too obscured to see down. Even the buildings themselves had too many dark nooks and crannies, and the sick feeling of fear grew stronger in me.<br />
<br />
As dusk crept closer and I hurried towards the street where my mother worked, I saw them no less than three times. At first I saw only a flash of movement between dumpsters down one alley, but the brief glimpse of a bare white limb before it hid convinced me it was one of the bald, twisted ones I had seen. A few blocks away from there I caught sight of a few white-haired figures leaning in dark door openings on a side street, my second sighting of those black-clad females. <br />
<br />
If it were the same ones I couldn’t say, not then, because I tried not to be as obvious in staring at them as I had been previously while I walked past at a brisk pace. It didn’t help, they had clearly noticed me before I noticed them, for I could feel each and every set of glowing red eyes burning into my neck as I tried not to break out into a panicked run.<br />
<br />
One figure stepped out of the shadows enough for the light to touch her, and while I quickened my pace and didn’t dare to look at her directly, the long black leather coat and her short white hair was quite clear to me.<br />
<br />
Especially when she showed up again a few blocks later, weaving in and out of shadows across the street to keep an even pace with me, almost appearing as if she <em>wanted</em> me to see her. I screamed when her glowing eyes met mine and threw all caution to the wind, running as fast as I could the last part to the bus stop.<br />
<br />
Awkwardly I waved away the bus driver’s surprised concern, and did what I could not to look as frightened as I really was. I spent the bus ride home trying to collect myself, so that my parents wouldn’t take one look at me and see how truly terrified I really was, and also cursing my stupidity all the way home.<br />
<br />
Yes, I had found out that while my little brother might be safe enough, both my parents spent nearly every day in parts of the city that held dangers they, and I, could not protect against. Had it helped in any way? No, my fear and worry for both my parents would only increase now, and worse... despite spending the entire trip home looking out the windows to make sure there were no pale figures following it, I couldn’t say for certain that I hadn’t just led monsters right to the doorstep of my home.<br />
<br />
-------------- <br />
<br />
Feigning illness I stayed at home for a few days after that particular bout of folly, though whether I did it out of cowardice or bravery I’m unsure. I spent the days while my family was away the same way I did my nights, vigilant and tense, certain they would come at any moment and from any direction. They never did.<br />
<br />
Another month or so passed without a sign of inhumanly pale skin or burning eyes, and even though I was starting to feel a bit strange, as if perhaps I had a flu coming on, I went about my days in the way expected of me.<br />
<br />
It was overcast that day, had been for a while and the weather forecast promised at least a week of rain. It was still early, so it didn’t bother me too much when my mother asked me to go pick some things up at the grocery store while she had to drive my brother somewhere. Despite a slightly annoying headache I was alert as always, and the shopping should have been handled quickly and I would have been safely on the bus heading home in no time.<br />
<br />
My problem was that I had spent so many years looking for monsters in the shadows that I had forgotten that there are human monsters too.<br />
<br />
I saw him, walked right past him without a care, my eyes scanning the dark parts of the other side of the street and completely ignoring him. Another girl my age would probably have paid attention to his suspicious appearance and to the car parked near him, but regular cars cast too small shadows to be of concern to me, and I didn’t.<br />
<br />
Suddenly there was a meaty hand over my mouth and an arm around my torso, and everything tilted and spun. An acrid scent filled my nostrils, then the world slipped away.<br />
<br />
When I came to it was to a pounding headache and overwhelming nausea, and I was being carried. It took a brief moment for my mind to clear to the fact that I was being carried over the shoulder by someone who stank of sweat and worse, and that my hands were tied.<br />
<br />
I panicked. I kicked and I struggled and I must have taken my abductor by surprise, because somehow I got him to let me go. I fell to the ground painfully, hit my head and tasted blood in my mouth, but that did not stop me from scrabbling to get away. I found my feet as he overcame his surprise, and I ran.<br />
<br />
I had no idea where I was or where to go, I just had to get away from him. He chased me, and presumably with the benefit of not being drugged dizzy, he soon caught up with me. He didn’t get a good grip on me, but managed to throw me quite hard to the side and I again hit my head on something before I was back down on the ground. <br />
<br />
It should have been over then, really. He was on me, an adult man against a thin teenage girl with her hands tied and her head bashed up. But instead an anger overtook me, a burning rage so fierce it has scared me ever since. I pushed my bound hands into his chest and somehow held him back from me. In a strangely detached way I felt my mouth open, how my lips drew back to bare my teeth at him, and this sound erupted from me. It was a deep rumbling that burst up from my chest and past my lips, not entirely unlike a lion’s roar.<br />
<br />
There was nothing human about it.<br />
<br />
The sound of it shocked me back to my senses, snuffed the rage from my veins and sapped the strength from my arms. Whatever I had just done, wherever it had come from, it was gone again and I was just a girl, beaten and drugged. I had barely the strength to stay conscious anymore, much less to save myself from what would happen. <br />
<br />
Except it didn’t.<br />
<br />
There was an answering sound, not too dissimilar to the one that had come from myself, and then the man, my attacker, was just... gone. I saw nothing but distant clouds for the briefest of moments, only then realizing that it was getting dark, before the evening sky was replaced by white and red.<br />
<br />
I was jostled, lifted into strong arms, and at the periphery of my blurry vision I saw the edges of a familiar black coat. The soft leather was tucked around me, and I didn’t need a clearer look at her face to know who or what held me.<br />
<br />
At that moment I gave up.<br />
<br />
Ignoring the horrible sounds coming from behind me and just so exhausted, physically and mentally, I leaned into my monster and wept, deeply and raggedly, as I let my mind slip away into the dark.<br />
<br />
-------------- <br />
<br />
When I awoke I was dazed and confused, my body hurting all over and my mouth and my eyes dry, as if after a high fever. It took a long, disoriented moment to even realize that I was uncomfortable, and that I was this because I was lying on floor tiles. It took even longer to remember what had happened before I passed out.<br />
<br />
Just forcing my eyes open hurt, so my instinctive attempt at scrambling to my feet had very meagre results, I was barely able to push my head up from the floor. With my heart thundering in my chest I cast my eyes about frantically, trying to take in as much as I could.<br />
<br />
I was clearly in a derelict building of some sort, because what I could see of it in the darkness was dirty, broken and barren, fractured flooring and rotting wallpaper, and gaping open holes where once windows had been. I was a few stories up, and the weak light that came in through those empty squares reached a small area around me, leaving the rest of the room in blackest shadow.<br />
<br />
That feeling in me, in the pit of my stomach and crawling up my neck, told me that I wasn’t alone before I saw them. They moved out of the deepest darkness just enough for me to see that they were there, and then they waited. There were four of them that I could see, and a movement at the edge of my vision told me that there were more behind me. I was surrounded.<br />
<br />
The one with the short, unruly white hair moved a little closer than the others, and for that reason her features were a bit easier to clearly make out in the faint light. The movement made me flinch badly, and only then did I discover that I was in fact covered in a by then familiar black coat. It had been draped over me in a gesture that suggested some care, a realization that might have affected my fear somewhat, had I been given a moment to consider it.<br />
<br />
Instead my brief moment of distraction meant that I did not see her move up to me, I blinked and there she was. Although prone, I cowered in fear at the sight of her.<br />
<br />
She was tall, impossibly tall, made even more so because I was on the floor and she was standing next to me. Thin, reed-slender like all their kind, but somehow it looked different on her. More ancient somehow, even more inhuman. Her skin as white as snow, it almost glowed in the faint light, and her long hair a silver shade of white that glittered like jewels on a faint breeze.<br />
<br />
She looked down at me with glowing red eyes that looked more ancient than anything had any right to be, and as those eyes examined me with such a knowing yet at the same time searching look I forgot how to breathe, much less scream. She tilted her head as she watched me, the slight movement more reminiscent of that of a bird than that of a human. While she was a far cry from the hideous beasts I had seen in the past, there was still nothing human about her.<br />
<br />
Even though I stared right at her in my helplessness I almost did not see her move as she knelt by me. One long, slender hand reached out to touch my hair, hesitantly at first, but soon sifting my hair between her fingers. Expressions chased each other across those inhuman eyes, but I could not read them, not understand them.<br />
<br />
Then that slender hand touched my face, right near my eyes, and while it should have frightened me worse a strange calmness engulfed me. I would later learn that it was her calmness, granted me by that touch.<br />
<br />
The caress itself was strangely affectionate, almost like a mother’s, and with it those eyes grew soft, almost sympathetic as she gazed down at me. The light glinted off long translucent fangs as she opened her mouth, and I should have been more afraid. It was as if I was being hypnotized by those eyes and that ongoing light, gentle caress.<br />
<br />
She did not eat me, she did not hurt me. Instead she spoke, her words lilting and her voice as otherworldly as her appearance. And although it was not her intention to be cruel, those words ripped my world apart.<br />
<br />
-------------- <br />
<br />
As I was still gasping for breath, my mind revolting at what I had just learned even as a treacherous little whisper somewhere in the back of it told me it was true, the one that I had for some reason dubbed <em>my </em>monster stepped forward. She tucked her coat around me and gathered my unresisting form up in her arms, cradling me to her chest. <br />
<br />
I did not see her look to the silver-haired one for permission, but I know she must have nonetheless, as I closed my eyes and leaned my head into her shoulder for the second time that evening. I felt the world shift as she jumped, and the wind rush around me as she raced with me in her arms, but I refused to acknowledge the world at all. It was as if I hoped to make everything a lie, a bad dream, if only I could press my eyelids together hard enough.<br />
<br />
After some time the wind stopped whipping at us and I realized we were no longer moving. There was a gentle little nudge and I reluctantly lifted my head and opened my eyes to look at the one carrying me. Her red eyes were easier to read, soft, regretful and apologetic even as she waited for me to notice that we were standing beneath a tree in my front yard. A faint sting of bitterness came and went as I acknowledged that of course they knew where I lived. Of course they would, once they had seen me.<br />
<br />
My regretful monster carefully put me down, steadying me until my legs cooperated, and rather reluctantly took back her coat. She ducked her head a little to meet my eyes, and with a frown and awkward words she told me that she was sorry. I wondered fleetingly why her expressions seemed slightly more human, more easy to read, to me than the others I had seen, but I pushed it out of my mind as she took a step back and told me to find her when I would need her.<br />
<br />
Then she was gone and I was left alone, lost, confused and broken, in the dark outside my parents’ home.<br />
<br />
From that moment on it never truly would be my home. Although I tried to resist it for as long as I was able, the world that I knew had been ripped away from me, and I didn’t belong in that house anymore. I didn’t belong in that family anymore.<br />
<br />
It started almost immediately, really. I staggered up the front steps and the door was flung open before me by my frantic parents, whom welcomed me with a thousand questions and fear that bordered on hysteria. Instead of letting me inside I was rushed off to a hospital to be checked out, and by then I had set firm in my mind the story to tell. I gave the police and all others present as detailed a description of the man who grabbed me, even though I felt fairly certain there was nothing left of him to find, and of the details surrounding how he had captured me. Again my unfortunate penchant for head injury was to my advantage, more so when those involved found out about my past experiences with the same, and some rather extensive and somewhat embarrassing examinations later, I was allowed to leave.<br />
<br />
It was in my mother I first noticed the change. Both my parents where frantic when they met me in the door at the house, but they calmed unnaturally quickly while at the hospital, especially given our family’s history and the uncertainty regarding what had happened to me. But it was actually visible with my mother, the way she at least seemed concerned when speaking to me, and then when she turned so that I was no longer in her direct line of sight seemed calm, if a bit confused, as she looked around. It was almost as if she couldn’t quite recall why she was there.<br />
<br />
Then she would look my way by accident, and her eyes would go wide and blink strangely a few times before she became concerned again. Each time it happened the concern was weaker than before, and that frowning moment of confusion when she looked at me became clearer to see.<br />
<br />
It scared me and made my insides go cold as ice.<br />
<br />
We went home, and it was as if my parents had forgotten what had happened. My little brother asked questions at first, before he, too, stopped talking about it, but in his case it might have been a natural reaction. At least he was subdued while our parents prepared for the night as if nothing unusual had happened that day, and for that I admit I hugged him before sending him off to bed. I went to my own with a head full of questions and a heart filling up with grief.<br />
<br />
The days and months that followed would prove that what I had been told, or in some cases rather shown, the images and feelings somehow sent to my mind rather than conveyed in words, was all true. Gradually my presence just faded, especially where my family was concerned, until my mother could look right at me and not see me standing there.<br />
<br />
I found that if I focused my will, I could for some reason make people notice me, and I had no idea at the time just how amazing this ability of mine really was. It was always easier with strangers or casual acquaintances, such as teachers at school, for some reason I have never quite been able to discern. They blinked once or twice and then obeyed my will to notice me, in time more than that, they would come to obey my will while I exerted it over them.<br />
<br />
My family though, for some reason they seemed resistant to whatever it is that allows me to do what I do. It took long moments of slow blinking as I poured all my will into it before I was seen, and even from the beginning it was not always successful. By the time I was eighteen I stopped trying, because by then nothing I did would cause their eyes to pause and focus on me, even for a moment.<br />
<br />
By then I had of course long since faced who I am, and embraced my new family. It took me no more than two months in fact, before I took off into the night, crying and heartbroken, towards the only ones that really knew what was going on with me.<br />
<br />
Was it sheer luck that my monster so gallantly caught up with me, stumbling blindly down dark streets not far from my neighbourhood, or had she in fact been keeping watch over me all that time? I still don’t know, but I am grateful nonetheless, for what I did was foolish. I should have been well aware by then that the world is filled with monsters, not all of them inhuman, and not all of them benign towards me.<br />
<br />
But caught up with me she did, and brought me to the others. Ever since her mind touched mine I knew that the one with the long silvery hair was the leader of this family, the queen of this small clan, and while they all tried in different ways to ease my transition it was she who guided me the most. It was she that had the answers, in as much as there were any answers for any of us to find.<br />
<br />
They had all begun as I did, as human girls once upon a distant time. Some of them were very old, and she, the queen, was so ancient I could not wrap my mind around it fully. But they had all experienced the fading, it came with the change of the colour of their eyes. How it amazed them, this ability of mine to force my presence upon my surroundings, just as the way my eyes remained this strange, and by now glowing, blue.<br />
<br />
I was different, the queen told me, I was more than they. Stronger. I was to be the future of my kind.<br />
<br />
At first it didn’t make sense to me. Little at all made sense to me, and it was difficult since their words often were, and still are, halting and different. Parts of their conversations are made through the link of minds, in image and emotion, which was yet foreign to me. I was still in transition after all, my fading far from complete. Traces of my borrowed humanity still clung to me then, and until they were shed it would always be a little awkward for me.<br />
<br />
My assumption that those twisted, horrid male creatures of my past belonged to the same species as my new acquaintances, and now myself, was something the queen denied firmly. Males and females, of which my little clan is but one of many in the world, are considered completely different breeds, and while little is known about how or why the males come into being they are considered naught but foul, mindless and murderous beasts. The male beasts try to avoid my kind when they can, because the females will kill them whenever their paths cross. Not all females actively hunt the male beasts, but when one is found it is our duty to the mortals to kill.<br />
<br />
I do not agree with the queen’s assessment of the males as uniformly animals of no thought or reasoning. I will never forget that first one, the male with white hair in my childhood room, and the clear intelligence in his eyes. Exactly what he was and what it means I do not know, because I have never seen one like him since, all other males have been the misshapen horrors which I heartily agree are but beasts. I also do not disagree that they must all die, whatever else I myself might be or become, I will not forget nor make less of how my dear cousin died. For that alone I would tear those things limb from limb with my own hands, no matter what it makes me.<br />
<br />
In some vain effort to try to remain human I persisted with school to begin with, despite the annoyances of the things I had to do to simply make my teachers remember to give me grades, but my reasoning soon changed. While it may take effort on my part, I am still the only one that can impart my presence on humanity, and I have grown to realize what that means. How that makes me the future of our kind.<br />
<br />
Before me my sisters did not live too poorly, the inability to be seen allowing them to take temporary shelter in shops or homes sometimes, but those times were rare as they came with considerate risk. The sunlight weakens them, although it still does nothing to me, and in the past there have even been sisters that in taking shelter in human homes due to circumstance got caught in the sun for so long that, once darkness fell, the males found them and devoured them. For most part my family has opted to live in abandoned buildings, tunnels and subways during daylight hours before I came.<br />
<br />
Not anymore. I will go to school and learn what I must, and then no matter how long it takes and what I have to do, what I have to steal or who I have to manipulate, I will build our future. I will build us homes where we can be safe, my family and I.<br />
<br />
Until then I manipulate humans with my power, and keep my family safe within their homes during the day. Even if they look right at us they will never know that we are there, although they will do my bidding all the same. My sisters will be safe, and I will do what must be done. Until I succeed we will all watch them move about without knowing that we are there, living the lives that we no longer can have.<br />
<br />
My hair is still brown, although in time I am told it will pale to one of the many shades of white my sisters display. My body still looks human, although my skin is nearly white now, but I may become taller in time. Whether or not I shall look quite as slender and inhuman as my sisters we do not know yet, only time will tell.<br />
<br />
When you feel a sudden chill down your spine for no reason, it is because I passed you by. When you wake in the night, heart pounding and fearful but you cannot say what you dreamt or what awakened you, it is because I was there.<br />
<br />
When you feel dizzy or tired for no reason during the day, it is because I was there, siphoning your strength, feeding off your energy. When you are afraid of the dark and cannot give a good reason why, it is because I am out there.<br />
<br />
I am the blue-eyed monster. <br />
<br />
And I am watching you.<br />
<br />
<br />
</span><br />
<br />Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-79542384167479579422012-04-21T10:59:00.001+02:002012-04-21T11:00:10.679+02:00Royal RomancingONCE UPON A TIME-fanfic. Dinner at the Mills' household, and Henry wants his moms to go on a real date together.<br />
(EMMA/REGINA, SWANQUEEN)<br />
<br />
This is the third in a small series of short Swanqueen stories with the name "Royal" in it.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0176')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0176')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0176')"><h4>Read Royal Romancing</h4></a><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0176"><br />
<br />
Disclaimer: As in the first story, Regina, Emma, Henry and everyone else in “Once Upon A Time” all belong to a bunch of people, among them probably ABC and Disney if I understand it all correctly. Either way they are not mine, and I’m just borrowing them for a little bit of Swanqueen.<br />
<br />
<br />
This is the sequel to “Dinner for Royals”, and the third in my little “Royal” series.<br />
As I write this I have watched up to episode 11 of the show, but it shouldn’t matter much since I’m just making things up as I go anyway. <br />
<em>A certain person</em> requested that I’d use origami in a story, and this is what came to me. ;)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Royal Romancing</strong></span> <br />
----------------------------------------------------------- <br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
A dinner invitation to the Mills residence was a thing unheard of in Storybrooke, and that for some rather simple reasons. Although Regina might be woman capable of utter ruthlessness, she was also very protective of her son and cherished her time with him. So business-related dinners, although they were many in the life of a Mayor, were kept well away from her home. And of course, Regina Mills had no friends to invite home, and sad to say, neither did her son.<br />
<br />
It was yet another small but important change brought on by Emma Swan, that one fine Sunday in autumn Regina Mills found herself busily preparing a slightly more elaborate dinner than what she usually would, intended for one additional person. She was also nervous, something which was equally unusual.<br />
<br />
While she was not what anyone, least of all herself, would consider a domestic goddess, Regina was a perfectionist in all that she did and abhorred to not be at least utterly competent in what she set out to do, and so if asked she would normally have every confidence in her cooking skills. That she also in secret had found herself enjoying many domestic chores over the years that others might have thought too mundane for the woman that was Storybrooke’s Mayor, especially after Henry came into her life, well... she was a very private woman, and there was something satisfying in the knowledge that those that thought they really knew her, didn’t, or at least not as well as they thought.<br />
<br />
There was a peculiar feeling when Regina opened her door to a bashful-looking Emma Swan, a little less dressed up than at their previous outings but still delectable, which hit Regina rather hard. She was really just coming to terms with the attraction she felt where Emma was concerned, after having denied it vehemently for almost as long as the blonde had been in Storybrooke, but this? This was new, this almost melancholy ache that would appear when Emma and Henry both looked at her with smiles on their faces.<br />
<br />
To think that Regina had gone so far out of her way to make Emma her enemy from the start, so convinced that Henry’s birth mother would take him away from her... Looking at them now Regina felt that not only should she have realized much sooner the value of Emma as her ally, but also that in some mysterious way Emma was bringing Henry <em>back</em> to her, little by little. That rather than fearing that Henry would love her less, Regina needed to acknowledge that there was a vacant spot in their family in which Emma fitted perfectly.<br />
<br />
Family. The very thought brought that curious feeling back, and more strongly than before.<br />
<br />
Emma was family. Well, yes, Regina had, almost without realizing it herself, accepted that fact, the fact that Emma was indeed Henry’s other parent. Instead of making her jealous and afraid as it had, now Regina felt a certain measure of relief that there was someone to share the responsibilities with, to trust in, when it came to her precious baby boy. It would do Henry no harm to have two parents, like so many other children in his surroundings.<br />
<br />
But that blast of longing spoke of something else, of another, deeper, level of sharing and trusting which Regina wished to have with Emma. Not just regarding Henry, but also regarding Regina herself, her life, her dreams, her burdens.<br />
<br />
She was really just now realizing that she wanted to blonde not just for a casual lover, but for something far deeper. A companion in life, a partner, a... wife?<br />
<br />
As impossible as it seemed, that thought skittered across Regina’s consciousness and refused to be banished, causing her to blush some as she ushered Emma into the house, which the blonde noticed.<br />
<br />
“Wow, Regina...” Emma said almost breathlessly, a peculiar expression on her face. “You look so beautiful.”<br />
<br />
At the praise Regina looked away a bit awkwardly, happy with the compliment but still confused with her own responses and their strength. It was at this point that, much to her own chagrin, Regina realized that she had answered the door while still wearing the frilly white apron with the red apple on its front pocket, the one that she often wore when warranted because Henry had helped her pick it out back in happier days. Henry was often what drew out that sentimental side of her, a side most people would swear up and down that Regina Mills did not possess.<br />
<br />
“Thank you.” Regina murmured, a bit less primly than she might have as the embarrassment of being seen this way by the blonde was a bit too much to bear for her sensitivities. A closer look at Emma however revealed that the other woman kept looking at her with such a helplessly smitten expression that it made Regina feel better. A confident little smirk returned to her lips. “You look... charming, yourself. Do come in.”<br />
<br />
With a little start it seemed that Emma remembered that she came bearing gifts, and she thrust both arms out in front of her. “Here. I didn’t know quite what to get, but I hope this is okay.” There was that disarming smile again, the one that Regina had always felt affected her a little too much.<br />
<br />
Gracefully Regina accepted the wine bottle thrust at her and gave it a cursory glance while preparing to take what else was offered her, but instead did a double take. She could not prevent the smile that shaped her lips as she looked back up at Emma. “Apple wine?” She asked softly, not quite able to hide that she was, in fact, charmed by the gesture.<br />
<br />
Emma grinned back. “I know squat about wine, really, but at the store they said it was a very good sweet dessert wine, whatever that means. Hopefully it won’t be too bad?”<br />
<br />
“It is perfect.” Regina reassured her and meant it. “We are having apple pie for dessert, this will go very well together.”<br />
<br />
The other woman did her happy bouncing thing. “Does that mean that I’ll get to eat your famous apples? Awesome.”<br />
<br />
“Oh?” Regina could not help herself, one eyebrow arched while her gaze became slightly lidded. “I was unaware that you had such an interest in my...” Dark eyes bore into Emma who made a small noise in the back of her throat. “apples, miss Swan.” Her voice dropped lower in pitch. “And I was under the impression that you had already had a... taste?”<br />
<br />
Emma was spared from having to reply to that by the arrival of their son, the happy boy barrelling into his blonde parent and completely unaware of the atmosphere between his mothers. Emma hugged him back and Regina smiled indulgently at them both, pleased now to see not only Henry but also Emma so happy.<br />
<br />
“Hey kid, I’ve got something for you.” Emma ruffled Henry’s hair with one hand before handing over a largish blue cloth bag with the other. The boy beamed up at both of his mothers before eagerly pulling at the cord holding the bag together.<br />
<br />
“And this is for you.” Again Emma seemed a bit shy as she handed over a small red bag to the surprised Regina. “Its not much, but, well...”<br />
<br />
“Games!” Henry squealed happily and pulled out two boxes to show to Regina. “Emma got me two board games! And look, this is the one the kids at school are playing.” Emma reminded herself to thank Mary Margaret later for that little insight. “Can we play? Will you play with me?”<br />
<br />
The boy’s eyes were bright and hopeful, including them both in his request. In an affectionate gesture that had once been common for them but that Regina had only very recently, with Emma’s help, become able to indulge in again, she reached out to smooth his messy hair back down. “If Emma is willing, perhaps we could play some after dinner?”<br />
<br />
“Sure kiddo,” Emma promised cheerfully before Henry had managed to ask. “I’d love to play a game or two with you and your mom.”<br />
<br />
With happy enthusiasm the boy clutched his new games to him with one arm and yanked Emma along after him with the other, chattering away about all the things he had heard about the games now in his possession.<br />
<br />
“Dinner first, Henry.” Regina called after them, reminding her son as it sounded like he was about to drag Emma away to start one of the games right away. Emma’s laughter could be heard at his antics, and it made Regina feel warm inside to listen to them both.<br />
<br />
Regina herself lingered for a moment in the hallway though, gingerly hefting the small red bag in one hand, looking thoughtful. The small box of Lady Godiva chocolates it contained, besides being Regina’s favourite, carried a few questions and possibilities that she uncharacteristically needed a moment to bask in.<br />
<br />
Was Emma even aware that the chocolates inside this particular little golden box would all be shaped like hearts?<br />
<br />
------------------------ <br />
<br />
Dinner had been an unequivocal success, Emma had praised Regina’s cooking, and by the time dessert was brought in, the blonde had all but swooned. To Regina’s great joy Henry had only hesitated for the briefest of moments before digging into his slice of pie with gusto, rediscovering how much he loved his mother’s apple pie after so long.<br />
<br />
In a moment that was almost bittersweet to both adults in its simple domesticity, they had all cleared the table together, after which Emma had made Regina sit down and watch as she and Henry took care of the dishes. Before too long they had wound up in the livingroom with Henry’s new games, and been captivated with round after round of playing them until it had gotten quite late.<br />
<br />
Regina sent Henry to put his things away and wash up for the night, granting herself a short while alone with Emma before their son would come back and Emma would say goodbye. She only wished that she had a clearer grasp on what she was going to say.<br />
<br />
“I had a wonderful time today, Regina.” Emma turned to her as soon as Henry was out of sight, and spoke with warmth and quiet happiness in her voice. “Thank you for inviting me.”<br />
<br />
Regina answered her smile with a relaxed one of her own. “I’m glad you came.” She was sidetracked for a moment as her eyes caressed the view before her, for the moment not even bothering to pretend she was not ogling Emma Swan and quite liking what she saw. “I think I simply must get you a few more of my shirts.” She mused out loud, mentally going over a variety of dark, rich colours which would look stunning on Emma, especially in smooth, high quality fabrics.<br />
<br />
Emma blushed and coughed a bit, looking somewhat unsure of herself. “Regina? What...”<br />
<br />
Oh talking was overrated anyway.<br />
<br />
She crossed the space between them almost before that small niggling of frustration had registered, not only ignoring any semblance of personal space but coming so close that their bodies were all but touching already. Emma was so warm.<br />
<br />
The blonde gasped quietly and shuddered, as Regina reached up to cup Emma’s face in her hands. She did not speak but let her eyes convey her intentions, caressing Emma’s slightly parted lips with a gaze more heated than even Regina herself realized, before finally becoming lost in green.<br />
<br />
There was so much emotion swirling in those eyes, and Regina couldn’t identify it all. The fear that flashed by she knew however, and for a moment she felt it herself, the fear that Emma would back away and reject the silent offer. Reject Regina.<br />
<br />
But then Emma’s arms came up around her and their lips met, so soft, so sweet, so innocently genuine a kiss that it hurt, somewhere deep within. Some forgotten part which had been sealed off for so very long ached with longing. And all for Emma Swan.<br />
<br />
It would not have been them if the kiss had not quickly taken on heat and passion, Emma’s arms gaining strength and pulling them tightly together, while Regina’s hands moved to bury themselves in blonde waves. Someone gasped, but Regina could no longer tell whether it was Emma or herself. It did not matter. She just... needed...<br />
<br />
Of course this was where Henry would come in, running along happily with his hair still wet and his face shining, and too fast for either of them to cover up what they had been doing. Like a pair of teenagers caught in the act they slipped apart, but not that far, not so far that they did not still have a loose hold on one another.<br />
<br />
They didn’t get the chance to move apart further. The little boy dashed forward and hugged both his mothers hard, turning the bewildered and awkward moment into a three-way hug.<br />
<br />
Although they shared a look of confusion, Emma and Regina were quick to put their arms around their son to hug him back. If the force of his little charge had made them grip one another a bit more firmly it was surely only for balance, or perhaps Henry might believe so anyway.<br />
<br />
“You guys are the best! I love you both.” He beamed up at his mothers, both of whom hurried to mumble their love in return, despite becoming quite teary at the declaration. “I’ve had lots of fun today, and at the restaurant, and at the movies.” He looked from one to the other, clearly building up to something important. “Can we please have more family days? Please? We don’t have to go anywhere, we can just eat and play games and stuff like we did today.”<br />
<br />
“Cause if we can, if you promise we can and you promise to be nice to one another, it is okay if I stay with Miss Blanchard while you guys go on a dates once in a while.” His expression changed and he looked stern for a moment. “But only with each other! Nobody else! Anybody else is <em>not</em> okay.”<br />
<br />
The two stunned and bewildered adults stared at one another while the child waited impatiently for a response, any response, from either of them. Finally it was Regina who wrestled herself back in control enough to speak to her son.<br />
<br />
“Well, Henry...” She began slowly, but with a certain twitch at the corner of her lips which did not escape Emma’s notice. “it is really up to Emma, but if she is willing she is quite welcome to join us for dinner and other days like this when she has the time.” Regina looked into Emma’s eyes. “It would be... lovely.”<br />
<br />
“But we must remember that Emma has a very important job, Henry, one that sometimes requires very long days and leaves little time to spend here. We cannot be selfish and demand that she should be here if she needs to be elsewhere, understood?” Regina searched her son’s eyes for acceptance, he was a smart boy though and would undoubtedly understand that if Emma could not always come visit them as promised, it would not be a rejection. She was, if entirely honest, perhaps not quite so certain of her own ability in that regard, whether it pertained to Henry or to Regina herself.<br />
<br />
The boy nodded solemnly. “Being the Sheriff is an important job, important to all the people of Storybrooke. Just like being the Mayor.”<br />
<br />
“That’s right, kiddo.” Emma smiled, not entirely able to cover up how moved she was by both mother and son. “But for when I’m not at work I’d love to spend time with you and your mom, as much as you guys can stand having me around.”<br />
<br />
“Oh, I think you will find that we can stomach your presence in rather large quantities, dear.” Regina murmured, amusement colouring her tone although her statement was true. “Wouldn’t you agree, Henry?”<br />
<br />
“Yes!” The happy outburst and eager little bounce made Emma laugh and Regina smile while thinking to herself that she now knew just where her son had gotten <em>that</em> particular trait. Then Henry stepped back a little, turning their three-way hug into a looser embrace and focusing his attention on Emma.<br />
<br />
“So, Emma...” There was a great deal of expectation in his voice. “...when are you going to take mom out on a date?”<br />
<br />
Regina could not help the snort of laughter that exploded from her, however briefly, and when Emma turned impossibly wide and desperate eyes on her she was met with a slightly wicked smile. “Why Emma dear...” Regina purred, not quite fluttering her lashes at the other woman but certainly giving her a magnetic look from under dark lashes. “...when <em>are</em> you going to take me out on a date?”<br />
<br />
Emma spluttered and stammered, and only Regina’s suddenly quite strong grip around her back kept the fiercely blushing woman from backing away from mother and son. Eventually she settled down and, after an intense scrutiny of what she could still see of her shoes, met Regina’s eyes.<br />
<br />
“Um,” Emma smiled a bit shyly at Regina. “I’d like to get the clothes I still have in Boston first, but unless things go crazy for the day I’m out of town, how about the day after that? Wednesday?”<br />
<br />
More than just a little relieved that Emma’s reaction did not mean that she did not want to go on a date with her, and more than willing to rearrange not only her own but the entire town’s schedule if it should turn out to be interfering, Regina smiled and nodded. “Wednesday would be fine.”<br />
<br />
“Yes!” Henry approved. “And I’ll bring clothes and my pyjamas to Miss Blanchard’s. Think Miss Blanchard will play one of the board games with me?”<br />
<br />
That pulled Regina up short. “Miss Blanchard?” She blinked and frowned. It was true, if she was going to go on a date with Emma she would need a babysitter for Henry, and yet the only other person she truly trusted with her son was Emma. “Oh Henry, I don’t know...” She began reluctantly, as much as she truly wanted some alone time with Emma, it would not be at the expense of her son’s safety.<br />
<br />
“It doesn’t have to be Mary Margaret.” Emma interjected calmly, committed now to taking Regina on that date. “If there’s someone you’d prefer, someone you’d trust more, we can talk them into staying here with Henry. Like Doctor Hopper, maybe? You trust him with Henry’s welfare, don’t you?” <br />
<br />
Regina barely kept herself from grimacing, she might be desperate enough to have Henry in counselling with Hopper, but she certainly did not trust the man as far as she could throw him. Henry was less successful in hiding his grimace, although he liked Doctor Hopper well enough and trusted him with his secrets, he was looking forward to a fun night and less inadvertent therapy and talking about how he felt about things.<br />
<br />
“Who do you usually have babysitting Henry?” The words that he was not a baby and did not need a babysitter were almost visible on Henry’s lips, but wisely he kept from speaking them out loud. Both women smiled at him for that. “Mary Margaret would do it though, if we asked. And you do trust her to look out for Henry every weekday during school.”<br />
<br />
Henry nodded eagerly, he really liked his teacher and wouldn’t mind at all spending the night at her place. She would probably play a game or two with him, and Miss Blanchard usually had cookies and cocoa when he was there to see Emma, so it would be nice. And also, she <em>was</em> Snow White.<br />
<br />
“We’ll see.” Regina reluctantly agreed, thinking she had a few days to try to come up with a better plan for Henry, or failing that at least get used to the idea. And perhaps have a little chat with a certain teacher regarding the health and proper care of her precious son. “Now Henry, say goodnight to Emma before you go to bed.”<br />
<br />
Another round of hugs followed as the boy did as told before disappearing into his room. Regina and Emma silently walked towards the front door, well aware that even though they couldn’t see him, Henry was sure to be pressing his ear to his door to make sure nothing interfered with his matchmaking plans.<br />
<br />
By the time they reached the door Emma and Regina were sharing warm smiles over the adorableness of their little boy, but soon they looked a little too deeply into each others eyes and the mood changed.<br />
<br />
Exactly which one of them pulled the other close and initiated the kiss is something neither could say, only that in no time at all Regina found herself pushed up against the wall in the hallway with a very warm, very eager Emma wrapped all over her. For something which was so new to them and to their interactions with one another, they were surprisingly good at this, deep, languid, soul-moving kisses that drove them both just a little bit crazy.<br />
<br />
“Wow...” Emma breathed after they parted just enough to breathe. “Why did we never do this before?” The blonde’s voice and face revealed both amazement and longing.<br />
<br />
Regina did not answer verbally, merely smirked a little and leaned in to nibble lightly at Emma’s lips. A groan and another kiss or two was her reward for her efforts, before the two of them finally, reluctantly, drew apart.<br />
<br />
“Why Sheriff Swan,” Regina purred and arched a brow. “I do believe your hand is on my posterior.”<br />
<br />
Emma chuckled a little and patted the area in question. “Why Mayor Mills, I do believe you’re right.” As she let Regina go and stepped back she drew one hand along until she grasped Regina’s. In a playful gesture Emma then bowed low and drew that hand to her lips to place a tender kiss on Regina’s knuckles.<br />
<br />
She didn’t see the darkening of Regina’s eyes in reaction, but she definitely could not miss when Regina surged forward, grabbed Emma by the front of her shirt, and pushed her up against the door for such an intense and heated kiss that it made Emma’s mind go completely blank. <br />
<br />
When a flushed and slightly out of breath Regina finally let go and opened the door for her, Emma was wobbly and more than just a little stunned. With a little gentle encouragement the blonde managed to stagger outside and took several unsteady steps, completely unaware of her surroundings, until a quiet chuckle brought some of her awareness back. She turned around to see Regina leaning in the doorway and watching her with such a fond expression it squeezed at her heart a little.<br />
<br />
“Goodnight Regina.” Emma called in a wistful and hushed voice, wishing she could just stay.<br />
<br />
“Goodnight dear.” That one word, so common in her interactions with Regina from the start, sounded so different now. Emma found she liked it.<br />
<br />
Another few steps, more or less taken backwards now, and then Emma’s mind caught up with her a bit better. “Regina? Will you call me tomorrow?”<br />
<br />
The dark-haired woman smiled wider and leaned her head against the doorframe. “Of course. Tomorrow then, Emma.”<br />
<br />
The woman in question nodded happily and staggered on towards where she had parked her car, still enough in a daze to need a few tries before she managed to unlock the door much less get herself into the driver’s seat. Regina looked on with affectionate amusement until the little yellow car finally made its way down the street before doing her nightly rounds of making sure everything was properly locked and the lights were all turned off.<br />
<br />
Some time later Regina Mills, the illustrious Mayor of Storybrooke, could be found asleep while propped up in her silken sheets, an old romance novel carelessly tossed beside her on the bed and a small, gold-coloured box still carefully clutched to her chest.<br />
<br />
------------------------ <br />
<br />
Monday morning found the Mayor curiously reluctant to focus on her job. Regina had settled in with her paperwork as usual, but found herself drifting every so often to thoughts of the last couple of days and a certain sheriff. In between signing forms and taking early phone calls, she found herself in something of a daze, and what was worse, her secretary noticed.<br />
<br />
The woman had not breathed a word that did not pertain to work, and yet Regina was seriously considering putting the fear of god into her all the same... just as soon as the strangely distracting and pleasant mood had passed. She didn’t quite get the chance as in between signing one pile of papers and the next, Regina’s secretary disappeared and reappeared at her door, looking as if she was already fearing for her life.<br />
<br />
In her arms she carried a rather large bouquet.<br />
<br />
“Erm, Madam Mayor? This came for you.” The woman stammered somewhat nervously, flinching as Regina dropped the pen in her hand in surprise. “They came by special delivery.”<br />
<br />
Regina never even noticed that the pen rolled away from her.<br />
<br />
The skittish secretary placed the bouquet in Regina’s arms and mumbled something indistinct which could be taken in whatever way her impressive and occasionally quite scary employer wished, and fled the room as quickly as she could without outright running. Regina paid her no attention, gingerly handling the white-wrapped flowers as if they would shatter from too careless treatment.<br />
<br />
There was no card, but unless the flowers turned into an armful of snakes upon opening the wrapping there was really only one person in Storybrooke that could have sent them. Well, actually, Regina did occasionally receive floral arrangements from various members of city council or local businesses that wished to ingratiate themselves, however this... was different. It felt different, personal.<br />
<br />
The paper came away to reveal an arrangement of deep red roses with a smattering of baby’s breath. Something inside ached with a number of unfamiliar or long forgotten emotions and made Regina simply gaze at the flowers, gently touching their petals, for a long moment before she finally roused herself enough to locate a vase.<br />
<br />
She placed them on her desk, something that would otherwise have been unheard of, where she could continue to look at them at her leisure. It amused her to note that there were neither a dozen red roses nor half a dozen, but exactly ten of them. How very Emma.<br />
<br />
The smirk that was half-formed upon her lips transformed into a softer, gentler expression.<br />
<br />
Such a charming gesture, and one that deserved reciprocation. It made Regina feel better about her little... whim... this morning, although it also called for something more, something with a bit more... <em>flair</em>.<br />
<br />
The piles of paperwork were ignored as Regina, with sparkling eyes and a smile playing at her lips, reached over her desk with a rather specific item in mind.<br />
<br />
------------------------ <br />
<br />
Emma tossed her leather jacket across the room while dropping herself into the chair at her desk, already feeling a bit tired. Storybrooke was a fairly peaceful town all considered, there were a few troublemakers, sure, but they weren’t many and usually more or less well behaved, so being a Sheriff wasn’t that bad of a job. Of course that generally meant that the real evil was simply too cunning and too manipulative to leave anything that might get him caught, in Emma’s opinion, but Emma liked to look at the bright side.<br />
<br />
After a weekend or holiday of any sort though, there was the dreaded paperwork to handle, plus to be Sheriff in this town meant to be at the beck and call of not only the Mayor, which to be honest Emma no longer minded, but everyone that had any sort of matter large or small with which they did not want to deal themselves. Frankly most of what Emma did in the average workday, apart from spending time either with Regina or at Granny’s, amounted to things that in another town would never be brought to police attention.<br />
<br />
Not that Emma minded being called out when Mary Margaret needed help to remove a bird’s nest from the chimney at the school, or when Granny needed someone to chop a few logs or when Pongo had chased someone’s cat up a tree. Even dealing with the town drunks were an amiable thing, in particular Leroy whom she tended to round up on a weekly basis.<br />
<br />
But while some days where idle enough to drive her crazy, busy days were really busy. Emma, being only one person, occasionally got tired when lunchtime came around and she just wanted to get the chance to scrounge up a meal from one of the fast-food places available, and maybe some peace and quiet in which to eat it.<br />
<br />
This day Emma did not relish the fact that she was already tired and still had to make her food run, but she figured a little breather at her desk and then she would drag her sorry behind over to Granny’s to see what Ruby had to offer.<br />
<br />
There were bags on her desk. Two of them, plain brown, and neither had been there when Emma left the station earlier that morning.<br />
<br />
Emma eyed the bags with weary caution, only just keeping herself from grabbing for that gun that came with her glamorous new job. In this town, you just never knew, and maybe she had been too hasty in thinking that most of the Storybrooke troublemakers were harmless. She poked at one of the bags, and waited.<br />
<br />
Nothing.<br />
<br />
No hissing, no explosions, nothing. Emboldened, Emma opened the larger bag.<br />
<br />
A warm and appetizing scent spread from the opened bag and made Emma’s stomach make itself heard, loudly. Too surprised, and frankly hungry, Emma forgot to be careful and tore open the bag in her hand. A plastic food container, still warm, a bread roll, and a set of eating utensils wrapped in a paper napkin. The container couldn’t quite keep the scent of the food in, and Emma’s stomach rumbled some more.<br />
<br />
Smiling delightedly at the find, it did briefly occur to Emma that she should probably be suspicious of this gift, but to be honest she had a pretty good hunch who the thoughtful individual that decided to feed the starving Sheriff might be. She peeked into the second bag.<br />
<br />
A large coffee, still warm enough, a note, and one rather particular blood red apple.<br />
<br />
Emma felt something sting at her eyes. She tried to blink it away as she set out the container, the bread and the coffee in front of her, ready to dig in, and picked up the note. It was simple and short, written in Regina’s unmistakable elegant cursive writing.<br />
<br />
<em>That appalling and greasy take-out food is unhealthy for you dear, you really should endeavour to eat better once in a while.</em> <br />
<br />
It was not signed, but it didn’t need to be. Emma grinned and carefully lay the little note aside, before tucking into her surprise lunch with enthusiasm. She would later blame the fact that her second introduction to Regina Mill’s culinary skills was in no way any less impressive than the first one for the fact that it took until the food and drink was gone, the container all but licked clean, for Emma to find the last little surprise Regina had left her.<br />
<br />
She picked up the apple to put it aside while clearing the remains of the paper bags off the desk when she spotted it. Behind the bags a tiny paper object had been hidden, an origami figure in crisp white.<br />
<br />
Carefully, reverently Emma picked it up, fighting a lump in her throat as she studied it. In the back of her mind she pictured Regina’s elegant fingers folding the creases, not at all surprised that the other woman had the knowledge and skill to do such a thing. She angled it carefully in awe, trying to see it from all directions.<br />
<br />
The small paper figure was a swan.<br />
<br />
<br />
</span><br />
<br />Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-50030273905958312782012-04-11T11:45:00.001+02:002012-04-11T13:20:08.220+02:00Dinner for RoyalsONCE UPON A TIME-fanfic. They've been to the movies and now Regina wants to ask Emma out to dinner.<br />
(EMMA/REGINA, SWANQUEEN)<br />
<br />
This is the second in a small series of short Swanqueen stories with the name "Royal" in it.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0175')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0175')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0175')"><h4>Read Dinner for Royals</h4></a><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0175"><br />
<br />
Disclaimer: As in the first story, Regina, Emma, Henry and everyone else in “Once Upon A Time” all belong to a bunch of people, among them probably ABC and Disney if I understand it all correctly. Either way they are not mine, and I’m just borrowing them for a little bit of Swanqueen.<br />
<br />
<br />
This is the sequel to “Royal Movie Night”.<br />
A small note of interest (perhaps): in my stories Regina drives a four-door Mercedes sedan rather than a two-door sports model of the same.<br />
Also, as I write these stories I’ve only watched the first 11 episodes, and yes, Vanessa Devin and her restaurant is something I made up. I’m sure it is pretty obvious why though.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Dinner for Royals</strong></span> <br />
----------------------------------------------------------- <br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The day after their trip to the movies Emma saw neither Regina nor Henry. Henry was in school, of course, but unfortunately Emma had work to do and couldn’t casually be around either as he got there or when school let out for the day, and he did not drop by at any point during the day to see her. <br />
<br />
Emma chose to see this as a good sign, that perhaps he was a little more comfortable around his mother and did not feel the need to run away as soon as Regina’s back was turned to find Emma and plot Operation Cobra. It would have been nice to have some confirmation though.<br />
<br />
A bit more disconcerting was the complete and utter absence of irate or at least somewhat snarky Mayors dropping in on Emma in her office or other random places to accuse her of not working. Although she would never say so to Regina, all those casual visits had made Emma wonder just what exactly the good Mayor herself considered to be working for those hard-earned tax dollars, since Regina had the time to stalk Emma at any odd hour during the workday. Because she had oddly enough come to enjoy the visits and the verbal sparring, as long as it did not turn to acidic, she opted not to rock the boat and risk having Regina refrain from showing up to add some variety to what was usually a rather monotone job. Storybrooke was not exactly a hive of scum and villainy, after all.<br />
<br />
So no Regina for a whole day made Emma very nervous. Had she gone too far? Had she pushed the prickly woman to a point where Regina decided that no contact was the better course of action? By the end of her shift a permanent frown had taken up residence on Emma’s features, and she had been bouncing her little red rubber ball a bit too aggressively – her in-office entertainment for those dull Regina-less hours – causing even Leroy to comment.<br />
<br />
At home Mary Margaret had been concerned, as evidenced by the cup of hot cocoa that found its way into Emma’s hands fairly quickly, and the sweet but absentminded little gesture where Mary Margaret stroked a wayward lock of hair out of Emma’s eyes as she sat down next to her to talk. <br />
<br />
It happened a little more frequently lately, these tiny maternal gestures from Mary Margaret that the other woman seemed unaware of but that Emma was very conscious of. She didn’t say anything about it though, as embarrassing as it was all things considered, there was this tiny part of Emma that was that lonely and abandoned child longing for a mother’s love, that soaked up these moments. As long as Mary Margaret was unaware of what she was doing, Emma would fight down the blush and just allow it. It was probably just some habit from being a teacher of young children on Mary Margaret’s part, really, no need to go reading into it further.<br />
<br />
They had both been a bit too awkward to really talk about what was bothering Emma though. The previous evening, when Emma had come home after an outing which Mary Margaret was well aware of were with Regina and Henry, wearing a clear imprint of lipstick on her cheek, had been embarrassing for both of them.<br />
<br />
All of a sudden Mary Margaret had grabbed Emma’s face and turned her to the side, staring at her with huge, almost bulging eyes. “E-emma? What...” Was all she had managed to choke out before Emma realized what had caught her attention, and, unfortunately, blushed rather badly. She had reached up to wipe at her cheek immediately, but it was too late.<br />
<br />
“Lipstick?” A part of Emma had been amazed that Mary Margaret’s voice could hit such shrill tones. “<em>Regina’s </em>lipstick? Emma, what is going on?”<br />
<br />
From her reaction you would think Emma had come home revealing she had been kissed by a tiger or a venomous snake, but Emma hadn’t quite been in the place to appreciate the humour in her situation as it happened. She had been shuffling her feet in embarrassment, glancing at Mary Margaret in worry over how the other woman reacted. It was something of an eye-opener that Mary Margaret’s opinion of her mattered that much.<br />
<br />
“She was just saying thank you.” Emma had muttered, not exactly being the most eloquent she had ever been and generally feeling like a teenager again.<br />
<br />
“Regina said thank you? With her lips?” Mary Margaret had still held onto Emma’s face, and for some reason Emma had not even thought to dislodge her. “Regina Mills, the Mayor of Storybrooke... <em>that</em> Regina? She <em>kissed</em> you?”<br />
<br />
Something of Emma’s normal attitude had reasserted itself then, and she had smirked slightly at her friend. “That’s the only Regina I know.” She had told Mary Margaret blithely. “In fact, that’s the only Regina <em>you</em> know.”<br />
<br />
It wasn’t too much of an assumption on Emma’s part to say that, in fact Emma reminded herself once again to ask Regina at some point if there had been a massive gas leak or a chemical spill of some kind in Storybrooke before Regina became Mayor, because clearly something had badly affected the memory of just about everybody in town at a certain point in the past. She had been meaning to bring it up with Regina because Emma figured she would be the only person to actually know, but she was always sidetracked whenever in the other woman’s presence.<br />
<br />
The attitude change had done the trick, and Mary Margaret had let go of Emma’s face to giggle and blush a little, looking a good deal more like her usual self. She then handed Emma a handkerchief, whisked apparently out of nowhere, and looked on with obvious affection and concern as Emma wiped at her cheek. “Oh Emma. I hope you know what you’re doing.”<br />
<br />
Emma had followed her impulse for once at that, and gently enveloped the smaller woman in a hug. Mary Margaret had hugged back, and it had felt nice, nice enough that Emma had admitted in a quiet tone that she really didn’t. “I haven’t a clue, Mary Margaret.” She muttered over the other woman’s shoulder. “But we have Henry together, and underneath all that defensiveness I really rather like Regina. She and I aren’t that dissimilar, you know?” <br />
<br />
She’d hesitated before continuing in a voice she cursed herself for because it made her sound so young and confused. “It isn’t bad, is it? To want to be a part of their lives?”<br />
<br />
“Of course not, sweetie.” Mary Margaret had reassured, letting Emma go so that she could pet her hair instead. Both the tone of voice used and the suspicious sheen of tears in her eyes revealed how emotional the topic had become. “Of course it isn’t.”<br />
<br />
There was a flash of determination in Mary Margaret’s eyes before she urged them both to get ready for bed that had Emma a bit worried that the usually so timid teacher would actually confront Storybrooke’s Mayor and give her a lecture in treating Emma right. Although the thought was equal parts amusing and amazing, Emma decided that she would keep an eye on Mary Margaret for a while, just to make sure she didn’t get herself into trouble on Emma’s account.<br />
<br />
------------------------ <br />
<br />
The second day after the family outing had Emma plan ways of bumping into Henry, determined if not a little bit desperate to find out how things were with both her son and his other mother. She never got the chance to implement any of the half thought-out plans though.<br />
<br />
Storybrooke’s Mayor came sweeping into the Sheriff’s office as if she owned it, nothing unusual there, but there was a distinctive lack of biting commentary to go along with it. That was pretty much unheard of, and to make things even more eerie, Regina seemed to be avoiding eye contact. To properly intimidate someone and verbally rip them to shreds, eye contact, a complete disregard for personal space or tact were all clearly required, as Emma had learned from earlier confrontations, and this time Regina did not seem to consider either of these things.<br />
<br />
It didn’t really occur to Emma that the big, beaming smile she sported upon seeing the other woman might have something to do with the unusual behaviour.<br />
<br />
“Regina.” Emma exclaimed happily and jumped up to perch at the edge of her desk, mutely offering Regina the chair she’d just vacated. “How nice to see you.”<br />
<br />
Regina’s eyes darted to Emma’s face at that, her expression fairly incredulous, before darting away. The chair was ignored. “Sheriff... no, miss Swan...”<br />
<br />
“Oh,” Emma said, her enthusiasm fading a little. “Is this an official visit?”<br />
<br />
Dark brown eyes looked at her strangely again, before Regina actually sighed.<br />
<br />
“No, dear.” A smirk twitched at Regina’s lips, but it seemed more amused than anything else. However whether it was with Emma or Regina herself was anybody’s guess. “This isn’t an official visit.” She cleared her throat delicately and strayed to the other side of the desk, one gloved hand lightly trailing the edge. <br />
<br />
“Oh?” Emma turned to continue watching her, pleased again. “In that case, what can I do for you Regina?”<br />
<br />
“I was... wondering...” Regina continued with some difficulty, even frowning a little when the words seemed to take a bit too long to move past her lips. “if you would care to... join Henry and I for dinner. This evening?”<br />
<br />
“I’d love to!” Emma exclaimed and jumped down from the desk. She knew she was a bit too eager but couldn’t quite stop herself. “When and where? Or, that’s right, I promised to take you out, so we could do that if you’d rather?”<br />
<br />
Then she frowned and put a hand up to her chin, thinking. “Huh. As much as I like Granny’s it isn’t quite the type of place I’d take someone to, not to mention that I’m not sure what they have on the menu for dinner. But what else is there in Storybrooke?”<br />
<br />
A quiet chuckle from Regina interrupted Emma’s musing out loud.<br />
<br />
“Contrary to what you might believe, dear, Granny does not own monopoly on the small businesses in town. There are other venues, I assure you... even a restaurant that is well worth a visit when you are in the mood for fine dining.”<br />
<br />
Emma smiled sheepishly and scratched a bit at the back of her head. “Really? Yeah, I guess I haven’t checked out any other food place yet. When I’m not eating with Mary Margaret I just go over to Granny’s.”<br />
<br />
“In no small measure due to the waitress there, I presume.” Regina muttered somewhat under her breath, and if Emma had been a bit less awkward and inclined to study her own boots at that moment, she would have recognized the narrowing and the flashing of dark eyes as a dangerous sign.<br />
<br />
“You mean Ruby? Huh, well, I suppose so?” A little confused as to what the question really was, Emma answered while still trying to figure it out. She was somewhat distracted by the slight twitching in one elegant eyebrow though. “Its kind of nice to go where everybody knows you, where people will stop to chat, and where the waitress knows what your usual order is.”<br />
<br />
Something subtly shifted in Regina’s expression, and she turned to slowly saunter towards Emma, her fingers still lightly tracing the desk. Emma found herself desperately hoping that the desk would, for once, actually be clean. She did not want to imagine Regina’s reaction if she left the room to find that the fingers of her undoubtedly expensive black gloves where covered in dust.<br />
<br />
“Pray tell,” The Mayor of Storybrooke purred slowly with a touch of suggestiveness that made Emma swallow hard as her throat suddenly went dry. “what <em>is</em> your usual order... Emma?”<br />
<br />
The gloved hand continued its journey and as Regina spoke it moved from the desk to the arm of Emma’s red leather jacket, coming to a halt high upon a lapel when Emma’s name was spoken.<br />
<br />
“Hot chocolate with cinnamon?” Emma’s voice squeaked a little, to her embarrassment. Her wide eyes locked with brown ones and something happened.<br />
<br />
Realization.<br />
<br />
They were standing far too close, staring deeply into each other’s eyes, with Regina’s hand pressed against Emma’s upper chest. There had been flirtation just now, in the words spoken and in how Regina acted, and they both seemed equally stunned by that.<br />
<br />
There was a tremor, though Emma couldn’t say whether it came from Regina or herself, and a tilting. A leaning in, a drowning in those dark eyes. Emma felt the faintest of breaths ghost over her lips, and then...<br />
<br />
A door slammed elsewhere in the building.<br />
<br />
Emma and Regina flew apart, almost to opposite ends of the room, and Regina spun around so that her back was facing Emma’s way. Someone called out for the Sheriff, and heavy footsteps made their way towards the office.<br />
<br />
“It appears that you have some business to attend to.” Regina told the air over her shoulder while aiming for the door herself. “I shall leave you too it then, Sheriff.”<br />
<br />
“Regina!” Emma gasped, raising her hand as if she could reach for the other woman. “What about...”<br />
<br />
Regina stopped with one hand on the handle. She glanced over her shoulder at Emma, and even in that partial profile it was plain to see that Regina was rattled. A faint blush dusted her cheeks and there was something almost frightened in her eyes.<br />
<br />
Then their eyes met and something in Regina’s softened, grew warmer.<br />
<br />
“Tonight, at the Crown and Trident. I’ll make the reservations and text you the time and place to meet.” One of Regina’s brows rose teasingly as the faintest trace of a smirk returned to her lips. “I trust you can find your way there...” Her voice dropped in tone into something purring and rather seductive on the last word, almost despite herself it seemed. “...<em>Sheriff</em>.”<br />
<br />
With that Regina disappeared, leaving Emma to stare transfixed at the door in her wake.<br />
<br />
------------------------ <br />
<br />
When Emma had, in an utterly failed attempt at being casual, told Mary Margaret where and with whom she was to have dinner, the brunette had paled and almost choked on her own tongue. Once the bout of sudden coughing was done, Mary Margaret had stared at Emma for a long moment with an intensity that had Emma squirming uncomfortably before she let up.<br />
<br />
After Mary Margaret was told exactly when this dinner was to take place, the timid schoolteacher was replaced by a squeaking and squealing whirlwind. She almost yanked Emma’s arm off, or so the blonde thought, in first charging what passed as Emma’s wardrobe and then her own. Emma was very confused, and said so.<br />
<br />
“The Crown and Trident isn’t just any old restaurant, Emma.” The breathless Mary Margaret informed her, a strange sheen to her eyes as she rifled through her clothes and threw several items onto her bed. “You might not think it, considering Storybrooke is such a small place, but that restaurant is really high end. The Mayor goes there for all her fancy dinner meetings, but most of us ordinary folks only ever go there for special occasions.” Emma dodged a pair of pants flying past as Mary Margaret dug deeper into her closet. “I’ve only ever been there once...” She stopped and gave Emma another curiously sparkling look. “Their seafood is to <em>die</em> for!”<br />
<br />
“Anyway, although they don’t officially have a dress code, well, people have been known to be refused to eat there if they’re not up to standards, so to speak.” Another, slightly more evaluating look at Emma. “Don’t worry though, I’ll come up with something.” Before Emma was about to ask just exactly what that meant, Mary Margaret shooed her out of the room. “What are you standing around for? Hurry, go shower and get ready! I’ll get the clothes sorted, now go!”<br />
<br />
And while grumping quietly to herself that she <em>did</em> know how to dress herself, and that she <em>could</em> dress up if she wanted to – well maybe not, most of her clothes weren’t actually in Storybrooke yet – Emma obeyed. If nothing else letting Mary Margaret put together her outfit and fix up her hair and makeup seemed to have worked well last time. Emma had faith in the other woman’s skills.<br />
<br />
When she entered the restaurant, for a moment a bit stunned that this was still Storybrooke, Emma felt slightly less confident, and regretted that Mary Margaret had rather meagre means to work with. She still didn’t know which of them actually owned the pair of black slacks she was wearing, and felt that she would have been a lot more comfortable in the shirt she’d once, if indirectly, filched from Regina. Still, Mary Margaret had done wonders with her beat-up old dress shirt, and the black blazer Emma had borrowed was actually quite stylish in her opinion. She was rather glad Mary Margaret had convinced her it wasn’t okay to simply show up in her jeans and the brown leather jacket though.<br />
<br />
She was barely through the door when she was asked to give her name, and once she had the scrawny but impeccably dressed man in front of her was quickly replaced by a mountain of a woman whose almost white hair stood in startling contrast to her flawless black tuxedo. She was swiftly ushered to a somewhat secluded table where Regina and Henry waited for her.<br />
<br />
Until that moment Emma had been unsure whether Henry would be there or not, and how she would react if he hadn’t been. <br />
<br />
The little boy flew up from the table to barrel into her almost as soon as he saw her, but even so Emma did not miss that both of the faces that turned her way when she approached had lit up at the sight of her. It made Emma’s heart beat a bit faster in her chest, and brought a big, uncontrollable smile to her lips.<br />
<br />
“Hey kiddo.” She told her son and hugged him back, relishing for that brief moment in the feel of his tiny body in her arms. Every hug she had the fortune to receive was such a gift, and something she not that long ago would never have thought she could have. Then she let him go and looked at the person watching them both from the other side of the table. “Regina.” She never noticed it herself, how her voice and her expression both turned a touch more tender as she greeted the other woman.<br />
<br />
Regina, however, did, and melted a little further. “Henry, let Emma sit down now. We’re here to have dinner, remember?”<br />
<br />
He obeyed, still smiling happily, and sat down, not really noticing or at least not finding anything to object about how his mothers were lost staring warmly at one another. The tall woman standing next to the table, completely forgotten by all three, certainly did notice the loving looks however, and broke out in an amused smile.<br />
<br />
“Madame Mayor,” The woman spoke up with a voice unfortunately made for booming no matter how hard the speaker tried to modulate it, making Emma jump in surprise. “do you and your... companions wish to order,” The polite smile twitched into a smirk briefly, as Regina had stated it was a family dinner. “or shall I return later?”<br />
<br />
The usually unflappable Mayor of Storybrooke looked a bit bashful for the briefest of moments before she rallied and settled on an expression of amused superiority. “Thank you, Vanessa. Emma, may I introduce you to Vanessa Devin, the proprietor of this fine establishment?” Emma goggled slightly up at the impossibly tall woman, wishing for a moment that she had remained standing. Sitting down she felt like she was the size of Henry. “Vanessa, this is Emma Swan.”<br />
<br />
“Co-owner, madame, please. Let us not break my poor brother’s heart by forgetting him.” Vanessa boomed and smiled, inclining her white head at Emma in a surprisingly regal-looking gesture. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sheriff Swan. I have of course heard much about you.”<br />
<br />
“Likewise, um, Vanessa?” A quick glance at Regina as she hesitated gave Emma an encouraging look, and a subtle gesture to go on. “While I haven’t had the pleasure of coming here before, I have been told by a very reliable source that the seafood here is to die for. So I know I’m in for a rare treat.”<br />
<br />
Apparently this was the right thing to say, as the giant woman beamed happily and nodded several times. “Good! Good!” Vanessa once again spoke just a touch too loudly for her own establishment and turned towards Regina. “Shall I leave you to consider the menu, or do you wish to order the usual?”<br />
<br />
Regina rather pointedly confiscated the only menu at the table from in front of Emma and handed it to Vanessa. “The usual, please. You never disappoint.” She shared a smile with Vanessa before the tall woman inclined her head and disappeared, presumably to the kitchen to inform the chef of whatever Regina had just ordered for the three of them.<br />
<br />
“Impressive woman.” Emma muttered quietly at Regina, still feeling a bit short. “Don’t think I’ve ever met anyone that tall before.”<br />
<br />
“Vanessa is really nice.” Henry informed her, apparently not even slightly intimidated. “She always gives me extra dessert. And it is cool how she dyes her hair white.”<br />
<br />
“Yes...” Regina murmured discreetly, not entirely managing to hide her amusement at Emma’s reaction. “Vanessa is nice, but often misunderstood. People tend to be intimidated by her and her brother.” Regina’s eyes met Emma’s with a slight warning. “She is not a woman to cross, however.” She turned to Henry with a fond look. “And it is ‘bleaches’, Henry. Vanessa bleaches her hair white.”<br />
<br />
Emma absorbed the information and nodded to show that she understood the warning. She couldn’t imagine why she’d ever do anything to offend the restauranter, but then again this was Storybrooke. Anything and everything could happen, and apparently there were more potentially dangerous people here than she had initially thought.<br />
<br />
“Out of curiosity, what did we just order?” Emma asked playfully, not willing to linger on such thoughts when she was finally with Regina and their son. “Incidentally, I think I was supposed to take you out, not the other way around.”<br />
<br />
That earned her a smile from Regina and a little giggle from Henry.<br />
<br />
“It depends. We just ordered the best full course menu the kitchen can come up with today, and that rarely repeats. It never fails to be perfectly delicious however, so unless you have any dietary compunctions I doubt you will be disappointed.” Regina eyed Emma a little and then leaned forward slightly to continue in a conspiratorial tone directed at both Emma and their son. “I only ever order from the menu here if I am on official business and really do not care for the company I am forced to keep.”<br />
<br />
There was another little giggle from the boy and an amused snort from Emma in reply to that, and for a moment both women were content to just bask in this little moment of shared and familial warmth.<br />
<br />
“Well,” Emma said after a moment, a smile still lingering on her lips. “I have no food allergies and I’m willing to try just about anything once.” Regina smirked a little more at that but Emma leaned over towards Henry and ignored her. “I’ve even eaten snails, eugh.” She pretended to shudder in disgust to amuse the boy.<br />
<br />
“Indeed? I trust you refer to escargot and not some juvenile attempt at ingesting the garden variety?” Regina hummed teasingly but also filed the information away for later. No food allergies, and a willingness to try anything once? How promising.<br />
<br />
Emma smiled wryly. “Yeah, escargot. The garden snails have been safe from me so far in my life, not that it hasn’t been touch and go once or twice. And contrary to what certain people think of me, I’m not entirely unfamiliar with fine dining or dressing up.” Her lips twitched a little. “Boston is just a little bit bigger than Storybrooke, actually.”<br />
<br />
Regina took a small sip of water and eyed Emma. “Mary Margaret?” The question was simple, and neutral.<br />
<br />
“Yeah.” Emma sighed a little, but it was an amused and affectionate sound somehow. “She’s the one that told me about the seafood. She almost salivated talking about the one time she’s been here, so I’m thinking it will be impressive.”<br />
<br />
“I see.” Regina had suspected as much, she doubted very much Ruby would sing praises for this place, if indeed the scantily clad young woman had ever been allowed in. “And did Mary Margaret... dress you again?” Once again there was a strange glint in Regina’s eyes that Emma missed.<br />
<br />
“Oh yeah.” Emma chuckled a little. “What you see before you is the result of Mary Margaret’s hard work and our combined wardrobes. I actually don’t know which one of us owns these pants.” She shook her head. “Not sure if I should be insulted that she thinks I’m incapable of dressing up on my own, but then again its true that I don’t have much clothes here yet.”<br />
<br />
“My... compliments to Mary Margaret then.” Regina murmured while her eyes passed over every visible bit of Emma Swan slowly enough to make Emma’s ears burn. “You look quite striking tonight.”<br />
<br />
Feeling just a bit shy and awkward, as well as sending a thankful thought to Mary Margaret, Emma returned the slow inspection. She hadn’t dared to let herself look too closely before, because even though Regina’s discreetly shimmering grey dress was modest, showing not a hint of cleavage, the banding covering her shoulders but leaving her arms bare and otherwise being a simple, slim design, the way the brunette wore it with effortless elegance did funny things to Emma’s insides. “And you look... stunningly beautiful, Regina.”<br />
<br />
Black eyes locked with green, and the intensity of them had Emma’s breath hitch. It was undoubtedly dangerous how one look from Regina could make her mind go blank, and make Emma aware of nothing but that ache inside.<br />
<br />
“Yeah mom, you look beautiful!” Henry’s cheerful voice cut the moment and caused both of his mothers to blush slightly and look at anything but one another. Too young to notice he just beamed at them as Regina thanked him for the compliment.<br />
<br />
Struggling for a good long while to find something to talk about, something safe preferably, Emma finally recalled what she had been talking about before she had gotten sidetracked by Regina’s looks. “Speaking of clothes, the lease on my apartment is coming up soon. I’ll have to go to Boston sometime next week or the week after that.”<br />
<br />
Noticing how the happy smile was quickly replaced by a wide-eyed and worried look on her son’s face, Emma blinked and reached out to take his hand, reassuring him. “No kiddo, I’m not leaving town for more than a day, then I’ll be right back.” She looked over at Regina, but to her surprise the other woman was watching her with a worried expression as well. “I just need to get my stuff into storage and to sign some things.”<br />
<br />
“I’m going to take the opportunity to bring more of my clothes back here with me while I’m there.” She frowned a little, trying to figure out the logistics of that. She didn’t have much, certainly, but it would still be a hard if not impossible task for her bug. “Regina, do you think it would be possible for me to borrow the sheriff’s car for the day? Naturally I’d be paying for the gas and all myself.”<br />
<br />
Regina watched her silently for a moment, in an evaluating way that made Emma feel as if the other woman was considering whether or not Emma would in fact skip town. “I think,” Regina said eventually, her words a bit slower than usual. “that perhaps it would be best if you take my car. It would be safer.”<br />
<br />
“You’re not leaving?” Henry asked, needing more reassurance. Emma smiled and gave him a sideways hug.<br />
<br />
“No honey, I’m not leaving. I just need to settle things in Boston and get some of my stuff. Can’t rely on Mary Margaret’s wardrobe all the time, right?”<br />
<br />
“And if she does not return while in possession of my car she knows she’ll be wanted by the police for theft.” Regina added calmly in an odd sort of reassurance for her son. <br />
<br />
Normally Emma would have bristled at the implied threat, but she had gotten to know Regina better lately and realized that this was Regina’s way of making sure Emma would not disappear from their lives. The fact that Regina had gone from wanting to get Emma out of town in any way possible to going out of her way to come up with, frankly rather silly, ways to make sure she stayed meant a lot. Regina wanting Emma to stick around meant a lot. Emma grinned at Regina as she straightened in her chair.<br />
<br />
“If you’re only going to be gone for a day, can I come?” Eager again now that his worries had been cleared, Henry spoke fast. “And why don’t you bring your stuff here? Get it into storage here in Storybrooke?”<br />
<br />
“No kiddo, it’ll be a long, exhausting day, and you’ve got school.” She smiled at him and had to keep herself from ruffling his hair. “And as for putting my things into storage here...” Emma sighed a bit and looked at Regina. “It’d take a day or two at the most, and then there would be a very localized but thorough fire.”<br />
<br />
Regina looked startled and just a little upset at that. “I hope you are not suggesting that <em>I</em>...”<br />
<br />
Emma interrupted her by reaching over to take one of Regina’s hands into her own. “No.” She said calmly and with conviction. “Not you, Regina. But there are others in this town that’d love to rip through my things in the hopes of finding something, anything they could use.” She wondered if Regina was aware of how her fingers curled up to lightly hold Emma’s hand in place, but either way it was nice. “A fire or an explosion would pretty much be a given.”<br />
<br />
Despite the fact that she would have been perfectly happy to continue sitting there holding Regina’s hand, Emma was forced to let go as waiters finally came to serve them the first set of dishes. <br />
<br />
------------------------ <br />
<br />
When they finally made their way out of the restaurant it was later than either had expected. The food had, much as Regina and Mary Margaret both had suggested, been spectacular, and in their reluctance to end the very pleasant evening both women had lingered, long enough in fact that Henry had managed to sneak himself a small second dessert. They could only drag it out for so long however, and full and content they eventually had to venture into the cooling evening air.<br />
<br />
Emma regretted that they both had driven to the restaurant, wishing she could have stolen a few more moments with Regina and their son by walking them home, but not even in Storybrooke could one walk everywhere. She had to settle for walking them to their car.<br />
<br />
“I wish you could come home with us.” Henry said as he hugged Emma tight. She hugged him back but didn’t say anything as she wasn’t sure just what she <em>could</em> say. As absurd as it seemed all things considered, Emma really wanted to go home with them. But it wasn’t a reasonable request to make on her part, and it wasn’t her call.<br />
<br />
“It’s late, Henry.” Regina told her son gently, but shifted her focus to Emma as she continued, something a little bashful in her voice. “Perhaps Emma would like to join us for dinner the day after tomorrow, though? At home?”<br />
<br />
“Yes!” The boy didn’t wait for Emma’s answer, he lit up at the prospect and hugged her once more before charging Regina, giving her a hug as well. “Thanks mom!”<br />
<br />
The smile on Regina’s face as she hugged her son back was beautiful and loving, and brought a lump to Emma’s throat. She ran her hand through Henry’s hair before letting him go. “Why don’t you go get into the car while I speak to Emma?”<br />
<br />
With a smile and an obedient nod the boy did as told, leaving his mothers to a brief moment of somewhat private conversation.<br />
<br />
It took Regina a moment to find her voice, but Emma was too mesmerized with how the wind blew a lock of hair to cross Regina’s face, and the curiously feminine little gesture that pulled it back in place, to notice. “So...” Regina asked somewhat awkwardly. “you did not answer. Will you come over for dinner on Sunday?”<br />
<br />
“I’d love to, Regina.” Without really meaning to Emma took a step closer. “If I’m not imposing?”<br />
<br />
Regina smiled, far more confident now. “Of course not. But beware...” She added playfully. “I will be cooking.”<br />
<br />
“That sounds really great.” Without really noticing it Emma had reached out and taken Regina’s hand. “Should I bring anything?”<br />
<br />
“Just yourself.” The happy smile directed her way did strange things to Emma’s heart, and it was amazing that Regina would look so pleased that Emma had said yes to the invitation.<br />
<br />
Grabbing hold of her guts with both hands, Emma took the final step to get in close to Regina. She smiled at her, perhaps a bit more tenderly than Emma herself was even aware of, causing Regina’s eyes to widen, and brought her free hand up to Regina’s face.<br />
<br />
“Thank you so much for tonight, Regina.” She said quietly, her voice warm. “I had a wonderful time.”<br />
<br />
And then Emma Swan leaned in and pressed her lips to Regina’s cheek, dangerously close to the corner of her mouth.<br />
<br />
She held the kiss for a moment longer than what was entirely appropriate, before finally letting Regina go and stepping back. With her heart thundering in her ears and an embarrassed heat spreading slowly to her cheeks, made all the worse as Emma caught sight of Henry grinning widely at his mothers from inside the car, Emma smiled sheepishly and scratched at her neck.<br />
<br />
In a gesture similar to the one Emma herself had made when the situation was the other way around, Regina reached up to touch at her cheek. She looked shy, and longing, as those dark eyes came back up to meet Emma’s again. The slow, lopsided smile appearing reassured Emma that she had not gone too far.<br />
<br />
“Goodnight, Emma.” Regina purred, and then quickly walked over to get into her car.<br />
<br />
“Goodnight Regina.” Emma managed before Regina closed her door, unaware of just how lovestruck she sounded. Regina heard it however, and flushed as their son giggled and waved his own goodbye to Emma.<br />
<br />
A little embarrassed now at her rather bold move, Emma quickly trotted off to find her yellow bug. As she got behind the wheel and started the car she was touched and a bit charmed to see that Regina had waited for her to get safely inside the car, and gotten the car started, before she drove off herself. It was thoughtful, even if Emma was a woman who could take care of herself, not to mention that she was actually the law in this little town.<br />
<br />
Thoughtful, and sweet.<br />
<br />
And it almost made Mary Margaret faint when Emma told her about it.<br />
<br />
<br />
</span><br />
<br />Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-17911858645359157552012-04-04T12:34:00.001+02:002012-04-04T13:54:32.442+02:00Royal Movie NightONCE UPON A TIME-fanfic. Emma approaches Regina about taking Henry to see a movie.<br />
(EMMA/REGINA, SWANQUEEN)<br />
<br />
This is the first part in a small series of short Swanqueen stories with the name "Royal" in it.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0174')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0174')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0174')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0174')"><h4>Read Royal Movie Night</h4></a><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0174"><br />
<br />
Disclaimer: Regina, Emma, Henry and everyone else in Storybrooke all belong to... actually, I don’t know, but I think ABC and Disney are some of those that own the rights to “Once Upon A Time”. Either way they are not mine, but I’m just borrowing them for that little bit of Swanqueen that sadly we are unlikely to really get on the show... even though we should. ;)<br />
<br />
Small note of interest (perhaps): in my stories Regina drives a four-door Mercedes sedan rather than a two-door sports model of the same. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Royal Movie Night</strong></span> <br />
----------------------------------------------------------- <br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Being the Mayor of Storybrooke was perhaps not high on the scale of prestige in the eyes of the world at large, but in the rather closed-off community of Storybrooke itself, well, the Mayor did rule supreme. And being the uncrowned ruler of all she surveyed did come with its perks, the fearful respect of her subjects but one of them.<br />
<br />
So when Regina’s workday was interrupted by a brief, brisk knock at her door, followed by that door opening before Regina had in any way indicated that the supplicant was allowed to step into her domain, or office if you please, it was somewhat startling. What was less startling, if marginally, was that the person barging in uninvited was one Emma Swan.<br />
<br />
Of course. The irrepressibly rude woman was the only one in Storybrooke that did not instinctively cower before Regina, not to mention generally lacking any trace of normal social graces and good manners. Honestly, was it so hard to simply wait the few seconds it would take to be told to come in? Most likely the woman was out to annoy her in any small way she could, again. But this time Regina would be cool and collected, and not allow herself to be baited.<br />
<br />
“Is this official business or personal?” She asked calmly, arching a well-manicured brow at the blonde that shuffled in while hands returning to her pockets where they tended to live out their lives. Regina was perfectly civil, although she barely deigned a glance at the Sheriff as she finished writing on the paper in front of her before filing it and putting her writing utensil away. Anyone that thought to barge in unasked could very well wait until she was finished.<br />
<br />
“Erm, personal?” Emma sounded sheepish as she replied, shuffling over to the window to sway oddly in front of it in a restless way that really should have bothered Regina more. What also should have bothered Regina was how the reply came out sounding as a question instead of a statement, usually she disliked people that did not have a firm grasp on what they were saying or what they wanted.<br />
<br />
Instead she was, reluctantly, intrigued. Emma was always a worthy adversary in that her will and determination matched Regina’s own, and she was not usually one to hesitate much.<br />
<br />
“I see.” Regina glanced at the subtly rocking woman as she feigned taking a bit longer with her papers than was strictly necessary. Her interest in the uncharacteristic behaviour took a slight detour as her eyes caught on something else which, also reluctantly, intrigued her... the snugness of Emma Swan’s clearly painted-on jeans. She forced herself to blink and look away.<br />
<br />
“In that case, miss Swan...” She blamed her unusual distraction and the unnatural shapeliness of the other woman’s backside in those accursed jeans for the lack of acid in her voice. “I take it this is about Henry?”<br />
<br />
It was not a hard guess to make. Official business meant that the two of them yelled at each other over Storybrooke matters, and that they were Madam Mayor and Sheriff Swan. Personal business meant that the two of them yelled at each other over Henry, and were Regina and miss Swan, or occasionally ‘my dear’.<br />
<br />
“Well, yeah.” Emma turned from the window and flashed a lopsided grin at Regina, whom in turn lost track of the snarky or possibly haughty remark that she had been about to make.<br />
<br />
To make it worse the impossible woman shrugged a little and then, with a familiarity that would have been outrageous if Regina could have collected her thoughts enough to come to that conclusion, seated herself on Regina’s desk.<br />
<br />
<em>On Regina’s desk. </em> <br />
In all fairness Regina was too shocked to react other than stare mutely at this, unintentionally giving Emma all the time needed to say what she wanted to.<br />
<br />
“See, I kinda want to take him to the movies, which as you know we don’t have here in Storybrooke.” Emma swung her feet slightly, most likely without meaning to, causing Regina’s wide eyes to track to them without fail, until the blonde scratched her head in a sheepish gesture that then had all of Regina’s attention. “It’s a kid’s movie, animated but not Disney or about princesses and fairytales, I promise. It’s fantasy, I guess, and based on some book or something, but no fairytales. Honest.” Emma locked eyes with Regina. “So, what do you think? Would that be okay?”<br />
<br />
Regina blinked at the woman who looked far too earnest and was far, far too close. Her lips moved but no words came out. Thankfully Emma did not appear to notice.<br />
<br />
“I know it’s a bit of a drive, but I figure if we go right after Henry gets out of school we’ll get there in time to get something to eat before the movie starts, and then we’d be back again with plenty of time to spare before he needs to get ready for bed.” Emma turned even more towards Regina and leaned forwards, sending a very small and very brief wave of panic over Regina who had to resist leaning back herself, or worse, blush. <br />
<br />
Emma’s voice dropped a bit and her expression turned a touch more serious. “I figure it could be a good thing too, showing him that you can in fact leave Storybrooke without disaster striking. I mean, I know it won’t really convince him that the curse isn’t real, but it would be one more little piece of ‘evidence’ against it, and one day that can make a difference.”<br />
<br />
“I... see.” Regina said once more, returning to what felt more like herself and ignoring the other woman’s close proximity, the tightness of her clothes, or the open and curiously attractive body language she would sometimes have. Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she bored her gaze into Emma’s skull. “You would do this to dissuade Henry of his... fairytale obsession?” A touch of contempt crept back into her voice. “Considering that you are the one that supports his delusions the most, miss Swan, I find that hard to believe.”<br />
<br />
Emma sighed and leaned forward a bit further, causing Regina’s newly regained composure to falter and a slight touch of heat to creep up her cheeks. “Look, Regina, you know as well as I do that outright denying what he believes in won’t do a thing but alienate him. Not only does doctor Hopper advise against it, but if I did outright cut his fantasies down, then neither of us will have any idea where he goes or what he’s up to as he ‘fights’ the curse.”<br />
<br />
Dark brown eyes bored into green. There was an undeniable truth to Emma’s words, and to be honest Regina was aware that Emma herself did not believe in Henry’s talk of fairytales and curses. It was also true that as much as Regina resented Emma for being the one Henry trusted and confided in, the one that was along for all his little adventures, there was also a part of her that were relieved whenever it became clear that her missing son was with Emma, because that meant that whatever insanity went down he would not be physically harmed. Emma would not allow their son to be hurt. Emma was the only being in this or any world that Regina would trust with the safety of her baby, not that she could or would ever admit as much.<br />
<br />
<em>Her</em> son, hers!<br />
<br />
Jealousy flared, along with hurt. The arrogance of this woman! To think that Regina was stupid enough to what, simply smile and say, ‘oh certainly, do go ahead and take my son and drive off so that you can take him away and <em>never return again’</em>?<br />
<br />
“How very clever, miss Swan.” She began coolly, a superior smirk on her lips and one perfectly shaped and polished nail tapping lightly in their vicinity in a pantomime of giving thought to Emma’s words. Regina did not fail to notice how those green eyes zeroed in on the movement with an almost hypnotic intensity, and felt a small but hard to place thrill of glee before forcing it down. “But if you think that I will simply let you take my son in that atrocious safety hazard you call a car and...”<br />
<br />
“Oh!” Emma interrupted, sounding far too eager for Regina’s liking. “But we could take your car if you want? We could split the drive, I’d drive there and you could drive back?”<br />
<br />
All thought came to a screeching halt before plummeting helplessly in an entirely new direction, with Regina scrambling to catch up and make some kind of orderly sense out of things. “I...” She began and faltered right away, blinking at Emma. “My car? I’ll drive?”<br />
<br />
“Sure, whichever you feel more comfortable with.” Emma agreed happily, completely missing the stunned expression on Regina’s face. “So, when can you go? I mean, if we go after school’s out we won’t have to take a lot of time off from work, but we’ll still have to leave work a bit early. For me that’s not really a problem, barring anything unexpected, so...” Emma leaned in inappropriately close again. “...when would be a good day for you this week?”<br />
<br />
This time as Regina stared deeply into Emma’s eyes from far too close, Emma noticed. Blushing slightly Emma got caught up in that dark regard, until they were both locked in that silent but magnetic stare. Neither noticed that they swayed just a little closer to the other.<br />
<br />
What was meant to be a brisk knock instead unexpectedly threw the door to Regina’s office open, as Emma had apparently neglected to close it properly earlier, and in the doorway stood Regina’s deeply startled secretary with several folders in one hand and the other raised as if to knock. A little whimper escaped her lips as she took in the two women in the room and the way they were situated, Sheriff Swan sitting on the Mayor’s desk, the Mayor herself placed in between the Sheriff’s knees, and the two of them leaning in close to one another in a very intimate way. As she had not been hired because she was stupid, the secretary quickly did the math and realized that she had just barged in on her fearsome employer in a highly private moment, possibly about to have a quickie with Storybrooke’s female Sheriff in the middle of the workday, she blushed furiously while stammering out fragments of an apology. <br />
<br />
“I saw nothing!” She declared loudly at the end of her not quite finished apology, uncharacteristically tossing the folders she had brought onto the nearest surface inside the room so that she could slap one hand across her eyes, firmly, while the other fumbled for the door. As the two other women were still frozen in shock the secretary slammed the door shut, hard, and fled to her own office to hide in terror, hyperventilate, and contemplate writing out her will.<br />
<br />
The moment was well and thoroughly broken, and the women at the desk awkwardly put distance between themselves without making eye contact. Regina moved towards the window, her arms coming up to wrap around herself as she tried to make sense of where her thoughts had gone. Emma got up from Regina’s desk and took a few hesitant steps towards the door, her hands briefly yanking on her hair before going into her pockets.<br />
<br />
“Erm, so...” Emma cleared her throat nervously. “...about that movie?”<br />
<br />
“You... really want me to come with you and Henry?” Regina’s voice was subdued, and between the dusk in the room and the brightness of the day outside her window, her expression was hard to make out. Emma smiled anyway.<br />
<br />
There were a lot of things Emma could say to that, a lot of things she wanted to say, but really only one thing that mattered. “Of course.”<br />
<br />
Regina turned slightly to ostensibly look out the window, hiding her reaction as she took a moment to reply.<br />
<br />
“...tomorrow.” The answer, when it came, was spoken very softly.<br />
<br />
“Yes!” Emma exclaimed, perhaps a bit too exuberantly before she caught herself and continued in a more normal tone of voice, however the happy smile was out of her control. “That’s great!” She edged towards the door, a hand already on the handle. “In that case, I’ll come by here tomorrow, Regina.”<br />
<br />
With that Emma left, but not before she’d caught sight of the edges of a smile not even the shadows falling over Regina’s face could entirely hide. It was not a smirk, it was not arrogant, haughty nor dangerous, not like any of the smiles those lips had directed Emma’s way during her stay in Storybrooke, and it made the smile on her own lips turn into a grin.<br />
<br />
Emma all but skipped down the corridor, slowing only to give a certain secretary’s door a hearty slam and causing the rattled woman inside to emit a high-pitched sound. “<em>Great</em> timing there, <em>thanks</em>!” The blonde shouted at the door, the playful sarcasm lost on the woman hiding on the other side of it, before Sheriff Emma Swan left the building to, presumably, continue her vigilance in keeping Storybrooke safe.<br />
<br />
Regina leaned against her window and slightly surprised to hear herself chuckle at Emma’s antics. <br />
<br />
“Until tomorrow, then... Emma.”<br />
<br />
And the soft little smile lingered, long after the woman that put it there had left.<br />
<br />
------------------------ <br />
<br />
A rather awkward phonecall to a confused and somewhat cautious Mary Margaret that evening while Emma was busy escorting the town drunk to his nightly cell amended the agreement slightly. Instead of meeting at Henry’s school when he was done for the day as implied, Emma met up with Regina and Henry at their home forty minutes later, giving Henry the chance to change and put his school things away before leaving.<br />
<br />
Regina compromised somewhat for the drive and their intended activity, trading the skirt she would otherwise have worn for a pair of slacks, and allowing Henry to wear jeans and sneakers along with his pullover and blazer. All in all between makeup and hair and choice of clothing, Regina was rather satisfied that she looked nothing short of perfect. She always did, but this time it was strangely not enough to look simply perfect, although it took until after Emma arrived for her to pinpoint exactly what it was.<br />
<br />
Storybrooke’s Sheriff unfolded herself from inside that hideous little yellow car and managed to surprise Regina. As Henry rushed over to hug Emma, Regina took the opportunity to study her more in detail, admiring the clearly new but still impossibly tight black jeans, as well as the stylish black vest that was buttoned over what she was amused to see was her own shirt. Emma’s hair looked as if someone had actually taken the time to work through it with a brush for once, and there were even traces of light makeup visible to Regina’s sharp eyes.<br />
<br />
“Wow...” Emma told Regina once she looked up from their son to take in the other woman’s appearance. “You look stunning, Regina.”<br />
<br />
Shocked by the strong sense of pleasure and satisfaction, as well as a jolt of happiness and the long forgotten emotion of bashfulness, Regina’s reply was far meeker than intended. “As are you as well... Emma.”<br />
<br />
“Thanks!” Emma smiled happily and tugged a bit self-consciously at her hair. “I let Mary Margaret dress me today.”<br />
<br />
Regina could feel herself looking at Emma oddly at that statement, which caused the blonde to blink a bit and amend herself. “No, I mean, Mary Margaret helped me pick out what to wear, and the makeup.”<br />
<br />
She wasn’t entirely sure what to say about that, as she could not even begin to imagine the kind of desperation it would take to conceive to ask frumpy little Mary Margaret for fashion advice, the clothes Henry’s teacher usually wore were in Regina’s opinion far better suited for some elderly grandmother. However, Emma did indeed look... good. Very good in fact. Regina found some difficulty in wrestling her eyes away from Emma’s denim clad posterior and focus on getting herself behind the wheel of her car.<br />
<br />
Regina was a little charmed to see that after complimenting their son on his appearance, Emma ushered him into the backseat with instructions on buckling up safely, and took it upon herself to close his door properly before getting into the passenger seat. Regina glanced over her shoulder at Henry, who gave an embarrassed shrug and a little roll of his eyes, causing her to smirk. Henry was a big boy now, and he had earned the right and the trust, if reluctantly, to seat and buckle himself into a car since he was eight. He would raise a fuss if Regina treated him the way Emma just did, and it did clearly embarrass him that she thought him that much of a ‘baby’, but he didn’t protest it, just shared a look of fond exasperation with his mother.<br />
<br />
Perhaps it should have annoyed her a little, that her son would not raise a fuss with Emma the way he would have with her, but instead it amused Regina. The look of shared understanding had warmed her heart as much as watching Emma’s awkward maternal worry for their child had, and frankly she understood that in this case at least, that he wouldn’t protest Emma’s treatment simply meant that no matter how much she was his mother too, <em>Regina</em> was <em>mom</em>.<br />
<br />
Satisfied that her son and Emma were buckled in Regina drove them off, listening to the conversation between the two of them with a tense anticipation. Much as she had expected, as Henry realized that they were in fact driving out of Storybrooke, he became increasingly agitated and nervous, which was the reason Regina had told him that they were spending the day with Emma but not specified what they were going to do. As they were almost upon the border Henry’s protests that they could not leave Storybrooke because something bad would happen to them became more frantic, Regina was about to stop the car to take care of her son. <br />
<br />
She might be a hard woman in so many ways, but Henry had a firm grasp of her dark heart ever since the first moment she had held him in her arms when he was a mere three weeks old, and she would always respond to her son’s distress. No matter what he currently thought of her, or who came into their lives, she was his mother.<br />
<br />
To Regina’s surprise, and not entirely hidden relief, Emma acted first. She turned in her seat so that she could face Henry, and told him in a very serious tone of voice to calm down. She told him that his mother would never ever willingly put him in danger, and that she, Emma, would never do that either. While the somewhat stunned Regina paid far too much attention to Emma and Henry and far too little to the road she was driving on, Emma also explained to their son in a calm way that causing too much of a ruckus in the back of a car was a good way to distract the driver until they in fact caused an accident. Regina snapped her attention back to the road at that, rattled that she might just have put her son at risk unintentionally.<br />
<br />
A little smirk found its way to her lips soon though as she noticed where they were. She glanced back at her son in the rear-view mirror, and while displeased he had quieted down and was listening to Emma who was now encouraging him. “Henry?” Her voice gentled a little, instinctively wanting to comfort her baby if he was upset. “Are you alright?”<br />
<br />
The boy met her eyes in the mirror and straightened, almost visibly drawing himself together, gathering his composure in a way that was touchingly familiar, and nodded. The smirk became a small smile. “Look out the window. We have already passed the border of Storybrooke.”<br />
<br />
Henry and Emma both snapped around to stare through the back window, where the sign marking the edge of their little town just disappeared in the distance as the road they were on swerved. Two sets of green eyes turned to Regina, who finally let herself begin to relax. The dreaded exit from Storybrooke had been far less of a disaster than she had feared, thanks to Emma, and from there on the trip could only get better. In a rare bout of playfulness she started singing that bus song Henry had learned in kindergarten, her son quickly joining in with delight after a stunned moment. Emma stared at Regina long enough to make her feel uncomfortable before she too joined in, causing their son to laugh and demand more songs after the first had been finished.<br />
<br />
When they reached their destination Regina felt the drive had not been long at all.<br />
<br />
------------------------ <br />
<br />
“McDonalds!” Henry requested eagerly, bouncing up and down on the sidewalk, his cheeks rosy and his wide eyes trying to take in everything at once. They had only just parked the car and reached the main street, but he already knew where he wanted them to have dinner.<br />
<br />
“Hold on, kid, your mom gets to pick where we’re eating.” Emma grinned at Henry and missed Regina’s brief surprise at the continued easy and casual acknowledgement of her as Henry’s mother. “You and I got to pick the movie, so its only fair she gets to pick where to eat... right?”<br />
<br />
Henry nodded and turned to Regina, who smiled indulgently at the two of them. She scanned the streets ahead and saw several places she would rather eat than at that greasy fast-food place, and one restaurant in particular she would certainly have liked to go to. But this wasn’t about her. “Weell...” She drew out the word and made a show of choosing, her adorable and beautiful little boy looking at her expectantly. “I suppose that just this once, to celebrate the occasion...” She watched his face light up further as he realized what she was saying, and Regina could no longer hold back her grin. “McDonalds it is.”<br />
<br />
“Thanks mom!” Henry cried and rushed forward to impulsively give Regina a hug. She felt the warm pressure of his tiny form for just a moment, and then he was running ahead to where the familiar sign beckoned, shouting over his shoulder for them to hurry.<br />
<br />
Regina was frozen in place, her mind running over the last few minutes again and again as her eyes stung and something caused her chest to constrict. When had she gotten a hug from her son last? It was longer than she cared to remember.<br />
<br />
A warm hand in hers finally pulled Regina back to the present.<br />
<br />
Regina looked down at the hand holding her own, and then up into green eyes that held something remarkable, compassion and understanding. When did anyone, anyone at all, look at her that way?<br />
<br />
“Ready to brave grease, noise and heartburn?” Emma said nothing of Regina’s reaction to a simple hug from their son, merely tugged gently at her hand to get them both moving towards where Henry waved before disappearing into the building. “I would have taken you to any of these other restaurants, you know.”<br />
<br />
Allowing herself to be tugged along, while pretending she was not at all awkward at the contact and fighting a small blush, Regina mustered a smirk. “Believe it or not, but I have a cast-iron stomach, so I’ll manage.” Remembering her son’s happiness she could not resist adding. “It is worth it, for just this once.”<br />
<br />
Emma’s smile was like a ray of sunlight, and equally blinding. “Yeah, well, I survive my own cooking so burgers and fries aren’t a problem.” Green eyes shifted away for a moment and Emma’s free hand found its way to her pocket. “Maybe, if today turns out to be okay, you could consider letting me take you out to a proper restaurant sometime?”<br />
<br />
A little confused as to how Emma meant the proposal, not to mention how she herself <em>wanted</em> Emma to mean it, Regina nodded slowly. If things continued as they had so far, she would be more than willing to have another outing with Emma. There was something about spending time together, the three of them, without any animosity between herself and Emma, that stirred a sense of wistful longing in Regina. It felt like...<br />
<br />
It felt like... family.<br />
<br />
Was she willing to share her son to have this? Was she willing to let down her guard and make herself vulnerable, to trust Emma, in order to keep these family outings, this sense of happy belonging? To keep the blonde smiling and looking at Regina the way she did in just that moment as she gallantly held the door for her?<br />
<br />
An informed decision could not be made so hastily, so Regina filed it away for further consideration when she would be alone and at home. Instead she simply allowed herself to experience all she could, walking towards where her eager son had reached the counter with the somehow warm, firm presence of Emma by her side.<br />
<br />
------------------------ <br />
<br />
Coming out of the theatre dusk was settling in, and the cool evening air did wonders for Regina. Henry bounced along a few steps in front of them, somehow just as happy and excited now as he had been going in, still talking about the movie they had just seen, with Emma adding a few comments of her own. It seemed like such a small thing to make him so happy, and she regretted not having thought to make the occasional trip like this with him before.<br />
<br />
Glancing at the woman next to her, now laughing at something their son had said, Regina had to admit that it probably wouldn’t have been the same, for any of them, if she had. Emma was a large part in why this evening was a success, and if Regina was completely honest with herself, she rather wanted Emma with them for more evenings like this. The blonde woman who had entered their lives as Regina’s nemesis, a serious threat to the only thing Regina truly loved, and who had been at odds with her unlike anyone ever had before, had turned out, when not baited or antagonized, to be... not so bad.<br />
<br />
Sweet, actually. Considerate.<br />
<br />
For instance, the movie they had just watched. True to Emma’s word it had not been an insipid Disney story about some helpless princess beset by some wickedly evil queen and finally dashingly saved by the heroic prince, granting an equally insipid and mindless happily ever after for the young lady now that she finally had a proper man to take care of her. Oh no. Instead the centre of the movie had been about children, and, to Regina’s surprise, at least indirectly of the importance of a mother in the life of her child.<br />
<br />
For the briefest of moments Regina had felt something like betrayal, just the tiniest sting of it, thinking Emma had chosen this film to point out her importance in Henry’s life. That feeling was quickly washed away with amazement and gratitude when Henry looked away from the screen to look at her, carefully put his popcorn away, and squeeze her hand. He kept his hand there for a while, until the lure of his treats pulled it away, but it was enough for Regina. She looked over his head across to the woman sitting on his other side and was met with a knowing look and a warm smile. Emma nodded slightly before returning her attention to the movie, a pleased look still on her features.<br />
<br />
The choice of movie had not been for the benefit of Emma’s connection to Henry, but for Regina’s.<br />
<br />
While cautioning Henry to watch where he was going, Regina casually linked her arms with the one of Emma’s closest to her. She enjoyed the startled look the other woman gave her, it was only fair that Regina was not the only one on the receiving end of that experience tonight, and it certainly was not unpleasant, walking so close to the incredibly warm woman as the evening turned chilly.<br />
<br />
She watched in silent amusement as Emma repeated the process of securing their son into the car from earlier that day, especially when Henry looked to her for help. Regina simply smiled in response, causing him to giggle but not protest as Emma closed the door for him. She took the wheel herself of course, because while she did trust Emma to consider Henry’s safety, well, she just trusted herself a whole lot more to drive carefully. She had seen Emma drive before, after all.<br />
<br />
The conversation about the movie soon petered out as the car started moving, and a glance in the rear-view mirror confirmed that the boy that had been overflowing with energy had fallen asleep. Regina had expected that he would, after such a full day for him, and the motion of the car had always had that effect on him. She could recall the relief when she had discovered that, when Henry was an infant and had gone through a bout of colic and nothing she could come up with would soothe his crying. She had been at her wits end, truly near tears herself, and unfortunately the doctors she had seen had been no help. A comment from a nurse in passing had suggested it, and after that Regina spent many am evening driving through the streets of Storybrooke to rock her little boy to sleep.<br />
<br />
Shaking herself out the memories, Regina looked over to the woman beside her. She found Emma looking right back, a faint smile on her lips and something Regina couldn’t read in her expression.<br />
<br />
“What are you thinking about?” Emma asked, her voice hushed as not to disturb the boy sleeping in the backseat. <br />
<br />
Regina’s eyes returned to the road, but for some reason she couldn’t find it in her to just avoid the question or give some half truth in reply. It was a delicate and sensitive subject between them, certainly, but at the same time... Regina had never had anyone to talk about these things with before, to share the experiences or the things Henry had done when he was younger. No, no-one spoke of personal things with Regina Mills.<br />
<br />
So, haltingly and with a touch of hesitation, just in case this would be the thing to ruin what had been such a wonderful day, Regina told Emma what had been on her mind. She spoke of the many suggested household remedies she had tried, and how none of them had worked until she had found that the car actually did. She revealed to Emma how any longer trip in a car was sure to put Henry to sleep still, only they had not been anywhere that required an extended drive in so long that she was sure Henry had forgotten. He did seem so sure that he had not ever been away from Storybrooke other than his trip to Boston to find Emma, after all.<br />
<br />
Trying to gauge Emma’s reaction Regina glanced at the blonde, only to find that the other woman had unshed tears in her eyes.<br />
<br />
“Wow.” Emma said quietly, her tone full of emotion. “It sounds... you sound amazing. Such a...” Her voice caught slightly. “...a great mom.”<br />
<br />
Regina grasped the wheel a bit harder and had to swallow against the lump in her throat. “I...” She began slowly after a moment, not knowing what, if anything, she could possibly say to make things better. “I have... pictures, and home movies... maybe you could... see them, sometime?” She looked at Emma again. “If you wanted to?”<br />
<br />
Emma tried to be discreet in rubbing at her eyes and failed miserably, but there was at least a smile on her lips. A tremulous one, as fragile as the longing and grateful look she bestowed upon Regina. “I would, I would like that very much. It sounds... wonderful.” Her voice dropped even lower. “Thank you, Regina. Just... thank you.”<br />
<br />
The final part of the drive was done in silence, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one.<br />
<br />
After parking her car Regina moved to gently wake her son so that he could go upstairs and get to bed. Emma intercepted her, patting her arm and indicating the front door. Nodding slightly Regina backed away, readying her keys, and watched as Emma carefully unbuckled Henry and scooped him up in her arms.<br />
<br />
“Its been years since I could carry him like that.” Regina said softly to Emma and smiled, noting the somewhat bashful look she was given in response. She unlocked the door and followed Emma who carried Henry to his room, where Regina, with the ease and familiarity of years of doing the same, eased off his shoes and his clothes without waking him up. She tucked his blankets around him and he snuggled into them instinctively.<br />
<br />
Relieved of her burden Emma shoved her hands into her pockets and obediently followed Regina as she tiptoed out of the room.<br />
<br />
“He’ll probably wake up in a few hours and go brush his teeth, but it shouldn’t hurt him any to go to sleep a bit early today.” Regina confided as they made their way back to the front door.<br />
<br />
Emma nodded, and looked a little surprised to see that Regina not only followed her to the door but also outside, albeit really just right outside.<br />
<br />
“I really have to thank you for today. Henry had a wonderful time, I expect he will talk of nothing else for days.” They shared a smile at that, before Regina glanced away. “I... had a lovely time also. Thank you Emma.”<br />
<br />
With that Regina Mills, feared and respected Mayor of Storybrooke, reached over and placed a soft, lingering kiss on Emma Swan’s cheek.<br />
<br />
“Thank you.” She breathed. “And drive safely.”<br />
<br />
And then Regina was gone, the door hiding the slight heating of her cheeks as she carefully peeked out the window without being seen. There, still practically on Regina’s doorstep, Emma remained unmoving, only a stunned look on her face and one hand up to touch the cheek Regina had kissed.<br />
<br />
Regina couldn’t resist the smile that wanted to claim her lips, and when Emma beamed happily at her door before she turned around and all but skipped over to her car, arms raised in some utterly silly gesture at the night sky, there was no holding it back.<br />
<br />
She leaned against the window and allowed it full reign, one hand finding its way up to touch lightly at her heart. There was a warmth there that was unfamiliar.<br />
<br />
Regina decided she liked it.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</span>Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-90898483654396145732012-03-27T13:23:00.002+02:002012-03-27T13:23:50.213+02:00Laugh With Me pt7 ENDSTAR TREK VOYAGER-fanfic. The end part, a little shorter than the others, but still. Research is good, but not quite the same as practical application.<br />
(Seven/B'Elanna)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0173')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0173')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0173')"><h4>Read Laugh With Me pt7 END</h4></a><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0173"><br />
<br />
For disclaimers see pt1.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Laugh With Me pt7 END </strong></span> <br />
------------------------------------------------------ <br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
By rights B’Elanna thought it should have been awkward once she and Seven had reached her quarters. Instead they stumbled in all smiles and slightly giggly, the atmosphere between them relaxed and at ease.<br />
<br />
B’Elanna looked away as she put the shoes down, and when she turned back Seven had closed the small distance between them. When she found herself wrapped up in long arms she was only to happy to return that embrace, and smiled up at the one that had laid a more solid claim to her heart than B’Elanna had ever thought possible. It was with joy rather than embarrassment that she acknowledged to herself that for someone who had resisted her feelings for Seven so persistently and for so long, she had ended up surrendering not only alarmingly fast but oh so very willingly.<br />
<br />
Warm blue eyes sparkled at her and B’Elanna was quite willing to stay like that, simply holding Seven close, for the rest of the night.<br />
<br />
“I did research.” Seven admitted quietly, her eyes caressing B’Elanna’s face. “Extensively, on all manner of dating and mating protocols. I...” Long lashes fluttered in a touch of shyness at the admission. “examined the instructions and descriptions of the act itself repeatedly.”<br />
<br />
“And yet I find that knowing the theory...” She trailed off somewhat helplessly, but B’Elanna understood.<br />
<br />
“It is not the same thing as putting things into practice, is it?” She asked gently, touching Seven’s face. The blonde closed her eyes in silent acknowledgement and leaned into the touch. “Don’t worry about it, Seven. I won’t ever ask you to do anything you don’t feel ready for.”<br />
<br />
“I assure you, my readiness or willingness is not the issue.” Seven smiled wryly. “My lack of experience in how to initiate and perform is.”<br />
<br />
B’Elanna couldn’t help but grin at that. “I think that maybe we should ignore the research and instructions for now, and go with what you feel, what you want.” B’Elanna’s voice turned huskier and slightly breathless as she looked deep into Seven’s eyes, her fingers painting tiny patterns on the back of Seven’s neck. “What <em>do</em> you want, Seven?”<br />
<br />
The reply was very soft, barely more than a breath. “I want to kiss you.”<br />
<br />
With a hitch in her breath B’Elanna leaned in to meet Seven’s lips with her own, gently urging Seven towards her with the hands that found themselves already wrapped around the taller woman’s neck. It was soft and sweet and emotional, and made B’Elanna whimper softly from how perfect it all was.<br />
<br />
A moment later her eyes threatened to roll into the back of her head as Seven, whether by conscious application of extensive research or by unbelievable natural talent, proceeded to kiss B’Elanna out of her mind. Every hungry, needy, possessive and passionate instinct in B’Elanna awoke to howl at the heavens, and yet it was not enough. Klingon strength and passion was not enough, as Seven kissed B’Elanna until her knees buckled and gave in.<br />
<br />
Seven swooped her up, and without faltering or easing up on their kissing in the slightest, carried B’Elanna to bed.<br />
<br />
When her back hit the bed B’Elanna’s mind cleared just enough that she, in between desperate gulps for breath, realized that they were moving fast, perhaps too fast for Seven. With gigantic effort she got herself to where she was able to speak, albeit somewhat weakly.<br />
<br />
“Seven, don’t you think we, we need to, to slow down?” She tried desperately to remember the reason why. She did have a reason, didn’t she? “I don’t want you to do something you might, um... regret.”<br />
<br />
The last word came out a whisper, her protests already forgotten as Seven, with eyes gone dark with desire, reached back and swiftly removed her dress. Once again B’Elanna found herself whimpering slightly, this time at the sight of Seven in delicate blue underwear.<br />
<br />
“I will have no regrets, nor do I have doubts.” The timbre of Seven’s voice had reached a depth B’Elanna had never heard from her before, and it made her shiver. “Do you?”<br />
<br />
Whatever answer B’Elanna might have mustered was instantly forgotten as Seven got onto the bed on hands and knees and crawled up B’Elanna’s body, the intense and dark blue eyes boring unwaveringly into B’Elanna’s own. With a groan need and instinct won out, and B’Elanna reached out to pull Seven that last bit closer until their lips could meet.<br />
<br />
The kiss was brief and then Seven pulled back again, although only as far as needed to look into B’Elanna’s eyes.<br />
<br />
“I love you.”<br />
<br />
B’Elanna’s immediate and heartfelt reply was swallowed up by the return of Seven’s lips. The burgundy dress soon joined the one already on the floor, and before too long B’Elanna found herself howling to the heavens in more ways than one.<br />
<br />
---------------------- <br />
<br />
Several days later the new relationship was the hottest gossip of the rumour mill onboard, but even though she heard the whispers and the mumbled speculations, nothing was going to spoil B’Elanna’s deliriously happy mood. The only cloud on her Seven-blue skies were the time that Seven still needed to regenerate and therefore forcing her to actually leave B’Elanna’s quarters.<br />
<br />
But B’Elanna was not one to give up that easily, especially if it meant more mornings waking up to Seven’s languorous and toe-curling kisses, or even more languid lovemaking. She hadn’t figured out how to make a small, portable regeneration unit yet, although she felt confident that between them, she and Seven would eventually make that happen as well. Instead, during bouts of insomnia caused by a general lack of Seven and a few free hours here and there, B’Elanna had worked out a rough plan to take apart one of the spare alcoves and reassemble the pieces into the base of a bed. She’d need Seven’s help to make it work, and her consent of course, but she had a good feeling about it.<br />
<br />
Then she just had to convince Seven, in the most logical way possible, that they could store the bed in B’Elanna’s quarters until Seven got her own. Yeah, store, that could work.<br />
<br />
What she needed first of all though was the permission from either Captain Janeway or Chakotay, before she intended to even begin to pitch the idea to Seven. She figured it was mostly a formality and didn’t foresee any objections to her plans, somewhat sketchy though they might still be, so when the computer informed her that Captain Janeway was unavailable, B’Elanna set off towards the bridge to talk to Chakotay instead.<br />
<br />
She caught him as he headed for the turbolift, and once B’Elanna told him she needed to talk to him privately she was ushered into the briefing room. It amused B’Elanna just a tiny bit that even with the Captain not on the bridge, Chakotay would not dare to use her ready room without permission. Not while Captain Janeway was onboard the ship and still in full use of her faculties, anyway.<br />
<br />
The permission was quickly and surprisingly eagerly granted once B’Elanna had explained her request, but as her old friend took the opportunity to chat a bit about life in general and the recent changes in B’Elanna’s life in particular, they ended up lingering for a while. After playfully teasing B’Elanna about her good mood and the rumours flying around, Chakotay finally asked a less facetious question about how things were going with Seven.<br />
<br />
B’Elanna smacked his arm and leaned against the wall next to the door, quite unable to keep the happy grin from overtaking her features. “She’s the one, Chakotay.” She sighed a little and turned earnest eyes on her friend, whom felt himself genuinely moved by the emotions easily read in them. “I know I’ve sort of said this before, but... by Kahless, if the day comes that she’ll have me, I’ll marry that woman.”<br />
<br />
Beside them the doors opened with their usual swoosh, and as B’Elanna and Chakotay both blinked in surprise Seven of Nine, with a smouldering look and something dangerously close to a smirk, marched in and grabbed B’Elanna by the front of her jacket. She pulled B’Elanna up onto her toes and then proceeded to give her a very heated and thorough kiss, the kind that turned B’Elanna’s knees to water and had the stunned Chakotay staring with eyes the size of saucers.<br />
<br />
Janeway cleared her throat awkwardly, drawing attention to the fact that she had also entered the room and was now scratching her cheek and casting her eyes about in embarrassment.<br />
<br />
“I apologize for my break of decorum, Captain, Commander,” Seven said smoothly as she stepped away from a swooning B’Elanna, not the slightest hint of embarrassment in her voice. “but as this is the third time B’Elanna has indirectly proposed, I felt a certain... amount of encouragement was required.”<br />
<br />
Chakotay murmured his agreement and Janeway coughed to hide her sudden snort of laughter, both of them nodding dutifully in case Seven would actually look at them. She did not.<br />
<br />
“However, B’Elanna, I believe we agreed that the next time you felt compelled to propose, you would do so in my presence rather than Commander Chakotay’s?” The playful little smirk on Seven’s lips had B’Elanna grin goofily. Seven’s voice dropped a little, entering the realm of flirtatious. “Also, I do believe I have already told you there is no further need for you to ‘practice’ proposing. Nor is there any question in what my reply will be.”<br />
<br />
Looking at the two so obviously smitten women before her, knowing that clearing her throat again would not help and that she really did not feel up to watching them make out, Janeway addressed Chakotay with a voice that was just jarringly loud. “Right! Chakotay!” The big man jumped a little at the loudness. “What did you have for me? You know, that... thing... the thing which you wanted to... discuss with me?” A beat. “Now?”<br />
<br />
“Right!” Chakotay blinked and caught on. “That thing! Which I wanted to talk to you about.” He cast about wildly for some inspiration. “OH! B’Elanna’s proposal, no, I mean, B’Elanna’s request regarding a Borg alcove. We need to talk about that.”<br />
<br />
“Chakotay!” B’Elanna groaned. “That was supposed to be a surprise!” Growling she kicked him the shins.<br />
<br />
“Alcove? Surprise?” Seven asked, looking curiously at B’Elanna.<br />
<br />
“Well!” Janeway declared a bit more happily than she should. “Why don’t you girls go talk about that some more, while Chakotay and I discuss ship’s business?” She had her hands on Seven’s back and gently ushered her and B’Elanna out the door. “It is all very dry commanding officer stuff, no need for you two to hear that. Remember to talk to me later!”<br />
<br />
With that she pushed them out of the room and closed the door behind them, leaving Chakotay to groan and grab his injured leg and Janeway herself to sag against a wall while fighting a fit of giggles.<br />
<br />
Outside, on the way towards the turbolift and completely oblivious to their surroundings, B’Elanna stammered through an explanation for her plans regarding the alcove bed. As the turbolift doors closed behind them Seven was heard requesting a copy of B’Elanna’s preliminary ideas so that she might see if she could add to them. Between the two of them a working draft was completed by that night.<br />
<br />
It would take a few more days, and then the new Borg bed was constructed, replacing the old bed in B’Elanna’s quarters. That would mark the day that Seven moved in with B’Elanna, although it would take several months until that was made in any way official. The next time there was festivities onboard that were decreed mandatory, the happy couple would be seen dancing the night away, lost in each other’s eyes.<br />
<br />
In time B’Elanna would even get herself together and stammer through a fourth heartfelt proposal, this one final time in front of Seven instead of Chakotay. And Seven’s answer was, as she had promised, never in any doubt.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</span>Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-72745208635016986222012-03-17T20:11:00.002+01:002012-03-17T20:11:58.563+01:00Laugh With Me pt6STAR TREK VOYAGER-fanfic. Janeway gets to chat a bit with her girls, and time for B'Elanna to take Seven on a date.<br />
(Seven/B'Elanna)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0172')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0172')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0172')"><h4>Read Laugh With Me pt6</h4></a><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0172"><br />
<br />
For disclaimers see pt1.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Laugh With Me pt6 </strong></span> <br />
--------------------------------------------------- <br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Lunch was a little bit late for the both of them, but B’Elanna was mostly grateful for that as it meant that she could secure an out of the way table for herself and Seven with less risk of having a friend or two drop by to join them. If she was going to have to be without the blonde after duty, B’Elanna felt she had some right to be protective of what time they would have together.<br />
<br />
From the moment Seven stepped into the room B’Elanna had no power over the smile on her face, but to her delight Seven seemed to suffer from a similar problem. A wryly amused part of B’Elanna figured it would be all over the ship by the next day, even though there weren’t that many still in the messhall, because Seven was not known for these big, beautiful smiles, and someone was bound to notice. She found that she had absolutely no problem with that, though. Let the rumour mill run with it if they wanted to, B’Elanna hoped that it soon would be common knowledge that the two of them were more than friends. She just had to get there first.<br />
<br />
Unusual for both women they took the full allotted lunch hour, chatting lightly over the meal and lingering in each other’s presence once done eating. Eventually B’Elanna broached the subject which had been in the back of her mind all morning.<br />
<br />
“Seven? I don’t want to bring up any bad memories, or pry into things you might not want to talk about, but...” B’Elanna kept her voice lowered even though there was no-one close enough to listen in. “what did you mean by what you said this morning?”<br />
<br />
“While I may not always give satisfactory answers, you can ask me anything, B’Elanna.” Seven replied calmly, at first appearing unperturbed by the subject. “As you might recall, when I was transported to Voyager initially there were six other Borg Drones with me. As the only survivor as well as their superior their deaths remain in me, unfiltered and intact as I was not in contact with the Collective long enough or deeply enough since to purge them.” A slight frown appeared. “While I will perform any duty given me regardless, it does make me... reluctant to venture outside Voyager’s hull even though I would be properly attired. The memories are harder to keep from surfacing in that setting.”<br />
<br />
“Damn. Are you saying you can remember what it feels like to...” B’Elanna tapered off, remembering the moment when Chakotay had ordered them to decompress the deck where Seven and the other Drones were. <br />
<br />
“To die in decompression? Yes.” Seven looked away from B’Elanna, focusing on the Borg mesh on her hand. “I have found that humans in particular have a very light definition of the term ‘eidetic’ memory. True eidetic memory is to retain all as it once occurred, not merely sight and sound but all sensory input and the feelings accompanying them, such as pain, fear or grief, undiminished, forever. I have true eidetic memory as I am Borg, but unlike the average Drone I do not have the filter of the Collective compartmentalizing or removing irrelevant memories.”<br />
<br />
“I... may seem cold and unfeeling to the crew of Voyager, but in truth I do experience emotions now, even if I do not always know how to... express them.” Blue eyes came back up to meet B’Elanna’s with something pained in them. “The pain and fear experienced can be overwhelming. And despite what the general opinion might be, even a Borg Drone experience pain and a sensation much like fear in the moment of death.”<br />
<br />
“Oh Seven!” B’Elanna gasped, horrified as her mind suggested an endless row of other horrors that Seven would also have to keep in all their gruesome and agonizing clarity, somewhere in the back of her head. Without considering her surroundings B’Elanna hurried around their small table to hug the sitting Seven to her chest.<br />
<br />
The sitting woman did not resist the embrace, even though it was fierce enough that a normal human would have found it uncomfortable or even slightly painful. B’Elanna was a little too upset to properly adjust her strength at the moment, busy trying to fight back the sting of tears on Seven’s behalf, but thankfully former Borg Drones are built of sterner stuff. <br />
<br />
A voice cleared right next to them. <br />
<br />
“Is this, ah, a bad time?” A wide-eyed and clearly embarrassed Captain Janeway asked awkwardly, a tray of food in her hands and from so close a range that B’Elanna probably brushed her by when she rounded the table to reach Seven.<br />
<br />
Blushing furiously B’Elanna released Seven and stepped back, almost snapping to attention in her utter mortification. Seven on the other hand seemed unruffled, merely inclining her head towards Janeway and offering a small smile. “Of course not, Captain. Did you wish to join us?”<br />
<br />
Reassured and a little charmed by both women’s reactions, Janeway offered up her own lopsided smirk. “For a place at the table, yes, but I think I’ll have to take you up on the offer of a hug at a later date.”<br />
<br />
Still dark red B’Elanna scrambled over to her seat and slunk down in it, surreptitiously glancing around to see who else had caught her uncharacteristic behaviour. Janeway smiled warmly at the both of them and pulled a chair over to seat herself at the end of the table.<br />
<br />
“I’m glad I caught you both here.” Janeway made conversation while eating, a tendency from her youth that had returned and been made into an artform upon being stranded in the Delta Quadrant. There was rarely time for Voyager’s Captain to simply sit down and enjoy a meal in leisurely silence. “Seven, first I wanted to hear how you’re doing?”<br />
<br />
“I am operating within norma... I am ‘fine’, Captain.” Seven nodded and then added slowly, almost as an afterthought. “How are you feeling?”<br />
<br />
Delighted at Seven’s attempt at a more casual expression as well as the polite concern Janeway smiled brightly at her protégé before turning a bit more serious. “Oh, I’m fine, only my pride is a bit worse for wear.” Sensing that Seven was about to ask her about her pride, Janeway moved along. “Seven, quite a few things have come to my attention lately regarding your situation, aboard the ship and in general.”<br />
<br />
She managed to avoid looking at B’Elanna as she said this, but B’Elanna’s guilty flinch was admission enough. Seven raised an eyebrow at B’Elanna before returning her attention to Janeway.<br />
<br />
“I see.” Seven said, although in that way that clearly said that she didn’t. It was one of those strange little habits she had picked up from Tuvok.<br />
<br />
“Frankly, Seven...” Janeway reached over to lay her hand over Seven’s. “I am so, so sorry that I didn’t realize how your situation and your needs had changed. I should have realized long ago that of course you need your privacy, somewhere to go and close a door behind you when you don’t want company or to be interrupted, somewhere to relax in off hours or to invite a friend over for dinner. Living quarters.” She patted the mesh-covered hand. “A basic right and a basic need for any individual, no matter how much we might not admit it to ourselves sometimes. I hear that you have even managed to sleep these days? Then it is past time you got somewhere to put a bed.”<br />
<br />
“I have indeed been very successful in my attempts at... sleeping... lately, however I feel that this accomplishment is linked to B’Elanna’s presence, and that without her my attempts at regenerating this way will be unsuccessful.”<br />
<br />
Janeway’s eyes grew wide and her head snapped around to stare incredulously at B’Elanna, whose blush had just managed to fade some in time to make it all the more obvious when renewed heat took over her features. “I... see?” Janeway said somewhat weakly.<br />
<br />
“B’Elanna’s scent and the sound of her heart are very soothing.” Seven added helpfully, as if she was giving Janeway advice on how to better achieve a good night’s sleep herself. <br />
<br />
“I, uh, don’t suppose there was actually something to Chakotay’s claim that he has heard you propose to Seven twice now, B’Elanna?” Janeway joined B’Elanna in blushing, although not nearly as darkly.<br />
<br />
“Yes.” Seven answered happily in B’Elanna’s stead. “Although she has yet to propose to me directly.”<br />
<br />
“Ahh... I see.” Janeway sounded somewhat strangled, but the corners of her lips were twitching as if she was trying not to laugh. “All the more reason to get you some private living quarters then. The issue of your uniform, or lack thereof, I’d rather leave until you yourself feel like changing that. If you do, I would like you to come to me and we will sort it out.” She hesitated slightly. “I was thinking of taking a more personal role in your... development, if you don’t mind Seven? You have clearly grown to the point where the Doctor is not really as able to answer your questions as he would like, and perhaps another woman’s perspective could be of use.”<br />
<br />
B’Elanna cleared her throat. “In other words, no more social lessons with the Doc, but you can still go to him and ask for help if you want. The Captain and I will be here to help if there’s anything you’re wondering about, as I’m sure Tuvok, Neelix, Sam Wildman and even Chakotay will be if you wanted to ask them for advice on anything, or to help you understand something you’ve researched.”<br />
<br />
“I see.” This time Seven sounded as if she actually did, and the tiny smile was somewhat more pronounced. “In that case, Captain, might I ask for your aid in replicating clothing?”<br />
<br />
“Why yes of course, Seven. Is it regarding that new uniform to wear on duty?” Janeway was actually quite happy to get to be Seven’s mentor in a bit larger capacity than she had so far, she had only feared that she would end up not having enough time for Seven’s needs. B’Elanna had assured her that she would not be the only one Seven had to turn to though. <br />
<br />
Seven hesitated, tilting her head slightly in thought. “Yes, I will require help with that as well. This time however I wanted to ask for your advice on suitable clothing to wear for a date.”<br />
<br />
As there was no reply because Janeway was busy goggling at Seven and B’Elanna was busy staring at her in adoration, Seven felt the need to clarify. “B’Elanna has asked me on a date tomorrow. I wish to dress accordingly but have neither the knowledge nor the experience to decide on attire suited for the occasion.”<br />
<br />
“Oh.” Janeway’s voice turned soft and more than a little maternal. “Of course, it will be my pleasure Seven. Let’s take some extra time off from lunch tomorrow and go through your options then.” She looked at B’Elanna with amusement. “You seem to have been doing things backwards this time, B’Elanna. Surely you should have dated <em>before</em> the marriage proposal and... other things?”<br />
<br />
“That’s not what it sounds like.” B’Elanna ground out, a bit desperate. “Honest, I haven’t...”<br />
<br />
Janeway stopped her with a raised hand. “You don’t need to explain that. In fact, please don’t.” There was a slight grimace before the warm smile returned and Janeway stood up. “You are both precious to me, and if there is anyone in this or any other quadrant that I would think could actually deserve either of you, it would be the other.”<br />
<br />
She placed a loving kiss on the head of a suddenly teary-eyed B’Elanna, then walked around the small table to do the same, although perhaps lingering a moment longer, to a wide-eyed Seven. She smiled at the two of them affectionately, and then walked away without saying anything further. Her ready-room beckoned and a large pot of strong, hot, replicated black coffee.<br />
<br />
---------------------- <br />
<br />
Regarding the holodeck, B’Elanna found herself to be in luck. Chakotay had a slot booked an hour after the duty shift’s end, and while it was a bit shorter than she might have liked – merely an hour and a half – it would do. Chakotay was not hard to persuade to postpone his program, especially since B’Elanna offered him a double slot in return. Once he found out what the time was for, however, he laughed and donated his time ‘for the cause’.<br />
<br />
After a brief bout of mind-numbing panic, B’Elanna had settled on keeping things fairly simple for their first date. If Seven was interested there would be time to do fancier things, or more elaborate and entertainment-based things, but as it was B’Elanna would rather keep it simple and do it right, than come up with something complicated that wasn’t thought or worked through properly. She had far too much experience with those kinds of holodeck dates herself, from her time with Tom Paris.<br />
<br />
Instead of writing a new program of her own, B’Elanna picked pieces from two or three she already knew of and made them work together. With the exception of a waiter that would appear to take their orders and bring their food, no holographic characters would be present. It would just be a fancy dinner in a beautiful, and B’Elanna hoped romantic, setting with some soft music in the background. In the unlikely event that Seven felt like trying to dance, the option would be available to them, but if not B’Elanna had planned a stroll down a particularly lovely lakeside promenade under a stunning sunset. For her as well as for Seven it would lack any of the appeal a real sunset would have, but at least it would be pretty.<br />
<br />
The idea was that the date was going to be mostly about the two of them talking, and of Seven getting to experience a few small new things, like the feel of sand under bare feet or to dip her toes into the water. As long as it wasn’t shoved down Seven’s throat with the implication that she absolutely had to act or react a certain way, B’Elanna felt certain Seven would enjoy a few little things. She had already seen the joy Seven displayed in something so simple as breakfast in bed.<br />
<br />
The night itself was surprisingly hard for B’Elanna. She missed Seven, even though they had shared a bed for a measly two nights, the absence of her scent, her warmth and the pleasant weight of her draped over B’Elanna made B’Elanna’s heart ache. There were a lot of thoughts keeping her awake as well, regret for their past and the hope and anxiety for what the future might hold. Quite a few thoughts went to B’Elanna’s mother and the things Miral had tried to teach her when she was a child. With her arms wrapped around the pillow which still smelled faintly of Seven B’Elanna wondered what her mother would have thought of the tall blonde... and what to do with that insistent little voice inside that said that Seven was the one, the one B’Elanna had been looking for all her life.<br />
<br />
In the end she got very few hours of sleep, but it was enough to keep her going in Engineering. As the day moved on and the time for their date came closer, any trace there might have been of fatigue were erased by the anxiety, as inevitably B’Elanna’s nerves took over. She couldn’t remember ever being this nervous because of a date before, but then again this wasn’t just any date... this was Seven.<br />
<br />
She left work a little early in order to get ready, although she had made sure to prepare her clothes the night before. The short burgundy dress she had picked looked classy enough for their date, yet wouldn’t keep her from walking in the sand if Seven wanted to try that. For the occasion she had also replicated a pair of shoes with as high heels as she dared to wear, knowing Seven would undoubtedly wear a pair and not wanting to add more difference in their height. It wouldn’t do to be face to chest with Seven for a date that relied on them being able to talk, because B’Elanna might just permanently loose her ability to speak in that situation.<br />
<br />
They met outside the holodeck rather than meet up somewhere else, mainly because B’Elanna felt she should be the one picking Seven up since she had been the one to ask her out, but Seven didn’t exactly have a ‘home’ to get picked up from. Captain Janeway escorted Seven to the holodeck, looking more than just a bit choked up and carrying a holo-imager. <br />
<br />
To be fair B’Elanna never really heard Captain Janeway’s request for them to pose for a picture before she left, she was far too captivated by the sight of Seven, looking all shy and utterly beautiful in her dove-grey dress. There was a moment of doubt, when B’Elanna wondered why such a special and gorgeous woman would want to go out with her of all people, but then Seven looked at her and smiled. <br />
<br />
Heart aching at the sight, B’Elanna gently brushed a tiny kiss to the knuckles of one of Seven’s hands, and then led her into the holoprogram.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately for B’Elanna time seemed to fly by at warp speed. Although nervous at first, Seven had relaxed after receiving a menu of choices for her meal which included not only things B’Elanna thought she might like, but also dishes B’Elanna had seen Seven eat in the past and a few nutritional supplements. When B’Elanna explained that she hadn’t asked Seven out to make her eat anything in particular, and that she’d rather Seven had something she enjoyed than something that might fit someone else’s idea of a romantic evening, it apparently reassured some of her worries. <br />
<br />
In the end Seven tried one of the dishes B’Elanna had added and liked it. She declined dancing this time, but suggested that they could perhaps dance at another date, making B’Elanna giddy with happiness that she was apparently already okayed for another date. The stroll was also a success, and Seven’s delight in walking barefoot in the sand was so great and almost childlike that B’Elanna knew that she would have to take Seven to a beach program sometime soon.<br />
<br />
They were still playing in the sand when the timer sounded, warning them that their timeslot was up and that the program would shut down very soon. B’Elanna was startled and a little bit disappointed that time had moved so fast, but at least Seven seemed both happy and content with the evening as it was.<br />
<br />
The crewmen already waiting outside for their turn at the holodeck were undoubtedly shocked to find Seven and B’Elanna walking out of the room, hand in hand and with wide smiles on their faces. The rumours would probably be all over the ship by morning.<br />
<br />
Their shoes in one hand and Seven’s warm hand in the other B’Elanna pulled them to the turbolift, giving Seven a questioning glance when she told the lift which deck to go to. Seven said nothing but seemed content to follow B’Elanna to her quarters, in fact instead of retrieving her shoes when B’Elanna offered them Seven claimed B’Elanna’s arm, wrapping both of her own around it.<br />
<br />
<br />
---------------------- <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</span><br />
<br />Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-60084094757517042722012-03-13T09:17:00.001+01:002012-03-13T09:20:20.195+01:00Laugh With Me pt5STAR TREK VOYAGER-fanfic. In which B'Elanna might get a bit preachy... or, if you will, further conversations and Borg snuggles.<br />
(Seven/B'Elanna)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0171')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0171')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0171')"><h4>Read Laugh With Me pt5</h4></a><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0171"><br />
<br />
For disclaimers see pt1.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Laugh With Me pt5 </strong></span> <br />
--------------------------------------------------- <br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Coming home to find Seven, still barefoot and wearing B’Elanna’s clothes, waiting for her was definitely a cause for quiet joy for B’Elanna. She regretted that she had not managed to leave work at a more reasonable hour, because there was so much B’Elanna would have liked to say or do together with Seven, but the late hour stopped her. <br />
<br />
Seven’s duty shift was set to start in only a handful of hours, unlike B’Elanna’s own since she had corrected it slightly to give herself a few more hours of sleep after working so late, and she could not really ask Seven to delay that after having already spent a day off duty. Seven was as much a workaholic as B’Elanna herself after all.<br />
<br />
Sharing a few warm smiles as they asked one another about how their day had gone, Seven and B’Elanna made ready for bed. The memory of Seven’s little display earlier were in all fairness never far from B’Elanna’s thoughts, and as she crawled into bed with the once again rather scantily clad woman it was a struggle to try to calm certain responses.<br />
<br />
Naturally, at such close range there was no way Seven would not become aware of B’Elanna’s physical reaction, and, as if to further her embarrassment, Seven did not shy away from pointing that out.<br />
<br />
“You are aroused.” The voice was calm, but when B’Elanna turned her head slightly to face Seven there was curiosity and a great deal of interest in the blue eyes watching her. B’Elanna groaned and cursed herself internally when the simple statement exacerbated not only the embarrassment but the arousal as well.<br />
<br />
“Yeah, uh, sorry about that Seven.” She muttered quietly and rubbed at her face. “I don’t mean to be disturbing you when you should be sleeping, but I’m still a bit... wound up from earlier.” She gave the other woman an apologetic smile, knowing that Seven’s night vision was easily as good as hers, if not better. “Try to ignore it if you can, it’ll pass in a while.”<br />
<br />
A silver brow inched higher in inquiry. “Earlier?”<br />
<br />
B’Elanna did her best to ignore the fact that even though Seven had laid herself on the side to better be able to look at her she was still close enough to keep her rather generous chest firmly pushed up against B’Elanna’s arm. “From a certain little show I was given earlier by a beautiful blonde, as you might recall.”<br />
<br />
“Beautiful?” There was something in Seven’s quiet voice that made B’Elanna frown and turn on her side, facing Seven fully and, if accidentally, removing her arm from its warm cocoon.<br />
<br />
“Yes, beautiful. As in the nearly naked beautiful Seven that decided to complete my day by short-circuiting my brain? Please tell me that it was actually you and not the Doctor playing around with the holo-emitters.” Her embarrassment made her tack on the weak joke, aware that Seven knew that B’Elanna would not mistake a holographic version, no matter how well made, for the real thing.<br />
<br />
A brief flash of white teeth was her reward for the attempt, but it was fleeting at best. “I am not... beautiful.” The words were uncharacteristically slow, as if Seven was unsure of how to express herself. “I am Borg.”<br />
<br />
B’Elanna nearly sat up at the despondent tone the last words had taken. “Seven? I mean, yes baby, of course you are Borg, but why would that mean that you can’t be beautiful? Because believe me, you are. You are easily the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”<br />
<br />
Even in the dark Seven’s bashful look and tiny smile was quite clear, and she inched closer to B’Elanna before she spoke again. “In humanoid species the rate of attractiveness in facial features is linked to the rate of symmetry of the same. I am Borg, and even if this fact could be overlooked, I could not achieve such symmetry.” She made a small, almost apologetic, face. “My remaining implants cannot be removed with present-day technology, any symmetry would have to be achieved with more implants, not less... which in itself would be detriment to any concept of... beauty.”<br />
<br />
“Oh Seven...” B’Elanna whispered, more than just a bit stunned. How could this beautiful woman be so completely convinced there was nothing attractive about her? “Is this something the Doctor has told you? Remind me to do something particularly nasty to his programming later.” She eased a hand up to touch Seven’s face. “Look, I don’t really know about any studies about facial symmetry, and I wouldn’t pretend to speak for humanoids in general, but there are two things that I do know.”<br />
<br />
“One is that although beauty is subjective and everyone has their own ideas about it, a majority of the people of this ship would still say that you are one of the most attractive people they know.” She didn’t add that they would mean it physically and not her personality, as most still found Seven quite intimidating, but she had a feeling Seven knew that already. “The other thing is that <em>I</em> think you’re beautiful, Seven. Beautiful, gorgeous, breathtaking, stunning, whatever word you want to call it, and I can’t think of anyone that fits the description better than you, just the way you are. Implants and all.”<br />
<br />
“I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me.” She gently caressed Seven’s cheek. “I’ve been an absolute targ to you in the past, because of problems I’ve had with myself but took out on you. But even then I knew that much, admitted that much about you.”<br />
<br />
Seven leaned her face into the caress and stealthily wriggled a little closer. B’Elanna noticed but did not mention it, wanting to see what Seven had in mind. They were close enough to be embracing by now.<br />
<br />
“I do not wish to suggest that I doubt you, but how could you find me in any way aesthetically pleasing? I know that my body garners... <em>comments</em>, but unclothed that like my face is covered with visible implants.” B’Elanna bristled a little at the idea and wanted to demand to know just who and what kind of comments had been made regarding Seven’s body. She was actually a little bit proud that she managed to restrain herself and not interrupt.<br />
<br />
“The Captain and the Doctor wish for me to become fully human in all aspects, and while I can never achieve that physically, it is their intention that I do so in external appearance at least. As current technology cannot replace my remaining Borg implants, only holographic imagery can make my appearance ‘human’, and that is not a viable solution.”<br />
<br />
“Although I admit that I find you absolutely gorgeous <em>with</em> your implants and don’t see why you should change if there’s no medical need, it isn’t about what I, the Doc or even the Captain thinks you should look like.” B’Elanna slid her hand down until it rested lightly above Seven’s hip. “What do <em>you</em> want, Seven? Which would <em>you</em> be comfortable with? Those are the things that matter.”<br />
<br />
“On the contrary, my wishes on the subject have never mattered.” Seven sighed and did not elaborate, but B’Elanna had a good idea what she was talking about anyway, and it twisted her insides painfully. “If it had been my choice, I would have been... conflicted. I do recognize that it would be easier to blend in and for that reason I would have liked to be more human in appearance, but it is also true that it is only recently that I have become able to view this, this body, this appearance, as myself. I would not wish to continue to change, to prolong the struggle I have experienced where I feel that my body, the way it functions and the way it appears, is as foreign and as difficult to grasp as the social lessons I attend.”<br />
<br />
“Lately though I have become more aware of the importance of beauty.” She added in a softer tone, smiling faintly. “I admit I no longer find it irrelevant, and do wish I could be more aesthetically pleasing.”<br />
<br />
B’Elanna was about to reply but a gentle hand caressing her forehead ridges stopped her. “You are... exquisite.” Seven whispered. “It is contradictory and I do not fully understand it, but even though I know you to be flawed, you are still perfection to me.” She traced a path down B’Elanna’s temple to her cheekbone. “How can this be?”<br />
<br />
There was a little sob.<br />
<br />
Seven gasped and felt a surge of panic as she saw the gleam of a tear in the dark. Before she had the chance to react B’Elanna wrapped both arms around her and yanked her that final small space forward until their bodies met.<br />
<br />
She buried her face in Seven’s neck and sniffled a little, struggling with herself. While a little hesitant at first, Seven soon got the hang of it and brought her own arms up to encircle B’Elanna, carefully embracing the emotional woman until she would once more be able to speak.<br />
<br />
B’Elanna struggled with her tears for a while before finally calming down, but neither woman was willing to let the other go even after the strangled little sobs had ceased.<br />
<br />
“We’re a fine pair, aren’t we?” B’Elanna mumbled with a teary little chuckle against Seven’s neck. “Both so broken, but still we’re able to see beauty where the other only sees ugliness.” She drew back and, quite deliberately, leaned up to place a tender kiss on Seven’s optical implant. Even in the dark Seven’s stunned expression was clear to see.<br />
<br />
“Better watch out.” She smiled and stroked Seven’s cheek. “I’m starting to feel compelled to squeeze out a third marriage proposal, you know.” It was only too true, she thought to herself, Seven was not only inspiring massive lovesickness in her but also awaking every instinct she had to claim her mate. And if <em>she</em> found that bewildering, what would the blonde think? Best not scare her away before she’d even gotten around to asking her out on a first date.<br />
<br />
“Indeed?” Seven smiled, pleased and a little playful. “Perhaps this proposal could be delivered in <em>my</em> presence, as opposed to that of Commander Chakotay?”<br />
<br />
“Ah well, a girl can’t have too much practice when it comes to something that important.” B’Elanna grinned, trying to disguise what she was really saying with a joke. “When I do say it in front of you it will be that one and only time, so I’d better find those perfect words now don’t I?”<br />
<br />
One way or another. B’Elanna was really starting to realize that Seven was the one, and if she did one day work up the courage to propose to the woman – ironically there was no question regarding if she <em>wanted</em> to ask Seven to marry her – it was going to be that one and only time. If Seven said yes, B’Elanna intended it to be forever. If Seven said no... B’Elanna shied away from that thought.<br />
<br />
Her reward was a beaming smile and that Seven pulled her close again. “As long as your words make your intention clear, that would be perfect enough for me.” With that the ship’s resident perfectionist squeezed B’Elanna tightly, while it was the other woman’s turn to feel a bit stunned. <br />
<br />
It was true that Seven wouldn’t carry any expectations of romance, in fact she would likely not understand many of the age old symbolic things tradition taught humans were romantic. Honest sentiment would go further with Seven any day.<br />
<br />
It was at once liberating and terribly intimidating. While it was a relief to know that Seven wouldn’t expect a fairytale courtship, or in fact have much in the way of expectations at all, it also made B’Elanna all the more determined to make things perfect for her... if Seven turned out to be interested enough in B’Elanna to want to date her, that is.<br />
<br />
“We should probably get to sleep. Your duty shift starts early, after all.”<br />
<br />
No sooner had B’Elanna spoken than, with a small nod, Seven pushed her over and draped herself over B’Elanna. A surprised little chuckle escaped B’Elanna. “Comfy Seven?”<br />
<br />
“Yes.” Was the short but happy reply from where Seven had ensconced her face in B’Elanna’s neck.<br />
<br />
Well, B’Elanna reflected contentedly, so was she. She reached down to catch the blankets and tuck them better around her own living coverlet, and then she wrapped her arms firmly around Seven. For all that they’d had a bit of an emotional upheaval mere minutes before, sleep did not take long to claim them both.<br />
<br />
---------------------- <br />
<br />
Even though it was Seven who had an earlier start to her duty shift that day, it was B’Elanna that was the first to wake. Although she intended to get up and once again provide breakfast, this time Seven was not as easy to dislodge.<br />
<br />
“No.” The sleeping woman grunted to B’Elanna moving, and grabbed her tighter. B’Elanna, feeling that all was rather well with the world this way, chuckled softly to herself and waited, knowing it wouldn’t be long now before Seven woke up.<br />
<br />
Another little grunt, this time not containing words to B’Elanna’s amusement, and it was clear that Seven was awake. She did not budge however.<br />
<br />
“You know your duty shift starts in just a little while.” B’Elanna said, pretending to care about such things when in truth she was more than happy to stay in bed with Seven all day. “I would have gotten up to make you breakfast, but... someone didn’t want me to move.”<br />
<br />
“You are warm, and the sound of your heart and your breathing is... soothing.” Seven explained somewhat sleepily against B’Elanna’s neck. “Your presence is essential. And your scent... it is...” She leaned in even closer and breathed deeply.<br />
<br />
B’Elanna gasped, and suddenly any traces of sleep that might still have clung to her were wiped away, as a low purring growl began deep in her chest.<br />
<br />
Blushing badly she tried to stop herself, knowing there was no way Seven had not heard it or how her heart had started pounding. Scenting one’s mate was a big thing for Klingons, and strayed pretty far into foreplay territory. Even knowing that Seven probably had not realized the effect her rather sweet action would have, B’Elanna couldn’t quite stop the way she reacted to it.<br />
<br />
There was a shift, and then a pair of blue eyes came into view. B’Elanna tried but could not resist that deep-set urge, and turned slightly to inhale Seven’s scent from the side of her neck. A shudder went through the other woman, and when their eyes met again, neither was unaffected.<br />
<br />
For a moment it seemed to B’Elanna that Seven was going to kiss her.<br />
<br />
Then, and at that close range there was no way B’Elanna could fail to see it, insecurity crept into those blue eyes, and confusion. They hovered close like that for a moment, Seven conflicted and B’Elanna calming as she understood what was going on.<br />
<br />
“Hush.” She said gently and hugged Seven. “We’ve got all the time we want for that, later.”<br />
<br />
“Besides,” She added as she disentangled them and carefully tried to urge Seven out of bed while getting up herself. “before we go <em>there</em>, I should at least take you out once first.”<br />
<br />
“So what do you say, beautiful?” B’Elanna grinned as she leaned forward to cup the face of the bewildered woman sitting on the edge of the bed. “Will you go out with me?”<br />
<br />
Seven blinked, and would undoubtedly have tilted her head if B’Elanna’s hands hadn’t been on her face. “Go out?” A trace of apprehension crossed her features. “Are we scheduled for hull maintenance or for an away-mission?”<br />
<br />
“Awahawhat?” In surprise B’Elanna let go of Seven and straightened. “Oh!” She grinned. “No Seven, I’m asking you out on a date. Will you go on a date with me?”<br />
<br />
It seemed to take an unusually long moment for Seven to process the meaning of the question, but once that was done a big, sunny smile was B’Elanna’s reward. “Yes!”<br />
<br />
Happily B’Elanna hugged Seven before giving her slight tug. “Thanks Seven. I was thinking tomorrow, one hour after the end of our duty shifts, if that’s alright with you? I know that you will have to regenerate tonight and all.”<br />
<br />
“That is acceptable.” Seven smiled as she stood, and allowed B’Elanna to gently push her towards the bathroom. “Is there anything in particular that I should bring or wear?”<br />
<br />
“Would you like to dress up?” B’Elanna thought for a bit. “If I can get the holodeck for our date, then yes, but if I can’t you can wear whatever you feel comfortable with, does that sound okay? And I’ll let you know which it is as soon as I know for sure.”<br />
<br />
It would be extremely short notice to get a slot on the holodeck for that particular time, but with a little luck there might be someone who was willing to trade if B’Elanna could offer a good enough deal. Considering she rarely used the holodeck for anything other than training exercises these days – and the rare spa treatment – she could probably tempt someone with a double or triple time slot in exchange, she had the privileges to spare.<br />
<br />
Seven nodded, still with the smile on her lips, and finally moved on into the bathroom. B’Elanna hurried through making breakfast for them, all the while buzzing with ideas, and all too soon it was time for Seven to go. In a reversal of the previous morning B’Elanna followed Seven to the door and, on impulse, reached up and kissed her cheek.<br />
<br />
“Want to meet at the messhall for lunch later?” B’Elanna asked leaning in the doorway, watching Seven somewhat awkwardly prolong leaving while she clearly knew she couldn’t delay for much longer or she would be late for duty.<br />
<br />
“That would be acc... I would like that, B’Elanna.” B’Elanna was graced with another smile as Seven took a few steps backwards, and then turned to set off in her usual brisk pace.<br />
<br />
She watched Seven head towards the turbolift when something suddenly occurred to her. If she had thought more clearly she wouldn’t have impulsively thrown out the question that way, and instead waited until the two of them could sit down to talk about it.<br />
<br />
“Seven?” B’Elanna did not shout, she knew she didn’t have to for Seven to hear her at that distance. “When I asked you out before, you seemed to be worried that I wanted you to go on a spacewalk with me.” It was a simple deduction since Seven never seemed to have any concerns regarding away-missions. “Why is that?”<br />
<br />
The turbolift doors opened and Seven got in, the distance enough that B’Elanna couldn’t see what expression she wore, but her voice carried well enough for B’Elanna’s hearing.<br />
<br />
“I am uncomfortable with such activities. It is hard for me to suppress the memories of dying from explosive decompression while in space outside a vessel. It is an... unpleasant death to recall, much less to experience six at once.” Seven stopped the turbolift doors from closing briefly. “I will see you at lunch, B’Elanna.”<br />
<br />
And with that the doors closed and Seven was gone, leaving B’Elanna to stare, pale and horrified, down an empty corridor in her wake.<br />
<br />
<br />
---------------------- <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</span>Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-51844170999360521962012-03-10T09:07:00.002+01:002012-03-10T21:45:11.362+01:00Laugh With Me pt4STAR TREK VOYAGER-fanfic. Incidental proposals and… nakedness?<br />
(Seven/B'Elanna)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0170')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0170')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0170')"><h4>Read Laugh With Me pt4</h4></a><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0170"><br />
<br />
For disclaimers see pt1.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong> Laugh With Me pt4 </strong></span> <br />
------------------------------------------------- <br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
As B’Elanna left her quarters not long thereafter, showered and ready for her partial duty shift, she had a feeling her life had just irrevocably changed due to the woman whom had curiously enough walked her to the door before, hopefully, spending the rest of the day relaxing on B’Elanna’s couch. She didn’t quite anticipate some of the ways in which it would change, though.<br />
<br />
Happily making sure her beloved ship had not fallen apart without her supervision B’Elanna got some hands-on work to do, but as it was a slow day and Vorik had been even more effective than usual in her absence, she soon found little else to do than the dreaded paperwork that was, unfortunately, also a part of her duties as Chief Engineer. It was easier to keep her thoughts focused while to her elbows in the inner workings of her ship than it was reading and typing up padds, and inescapably her thoughts returned to Seven.<br />
<br />
She was starting to wonder if it was one of Seven’s goals in life to drive her out of her mind. Previously Seven had done this by pushing all of B’Elanna’s buttons until she’d explode, something which the blonde couldn’t quite be held responsible for B’Elanna had to ruefully acknowledge now. Badly suppressed attraction and desire coupled with denied Klingon instincts? Yeah, that will mess a girl up. But the latest handful of hours alone had proved that Seven had, whether on purpose or not, found a new way to drive B’Elanna insane.<br />
<br />
As if the previous night and early that morning had not been enough to fuel B’Elanna’s more heated fantasies for a long time to come, Seven had treated her to another. As she stepped out of the bathroom Seven had called for B’Elanna, and B’Elanna had put aside what she was doing to go see what she wanted.<br />
<br />
The sight that greeted her as she entered the bedroom was of a Borg bottom wriggling in the air, clad only in miniscule underwear – B’Elanna had replicated it but not considered the cut or the size difference between herself and Seven in her hurry – as Seven had crawled halfway under B’Elanna’s bed in search of the biosuit she had discarded the night before.<br />
<br />
When Seven had come out from under the bed it turned out that she was wearing the blouse B’Elanna had handed her, although not buttoned it fully, and what Seven was really after was the shoes attached to her biosuit. B’Elanna had somewhat unsteadily suggested that Seven take the opportunity to experience being barefoot, and that if she wanted to leave B’Elanna’s quarters she could replicate herself a pair of standard Starfleet uniform shoes her size.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately B’Elanna’s heart-pounding reaction to another visual of irresistible Borg-influenced perfection, this time wriggling no less, had not gone unnoticed, and Seven had called her on it. B’Elanna, feeling more than just a touch lightheaded at the time, had tried for a whimsical answer and told Seven “No day is complete without a little half-naked Seven, is what I always say.”<br />
<br />
Seven had, of course, taken her seriously. Exactly how seriously B’Elanna had yet to find out.<br />
<br />
As B’Elanna was alternating between doing actual work and generally behaving like a lovestruck teenager Chakotay came over to pay her a visit.<br />
<br />
“Hey.” B’Elanna tried to sound casual and look as if he had interrupted her working and not dreaming about a certain tall, blue-eyed blonde. “The Captain is back on the Bridge, I take it?”<br />
<br />
“Oh yeah.” Chakotay snorted with a touch of amusement. “There’s precious little in this or any quadrant that our Captain cannot take on... with a few cans of black coffee, that is.”<br />
<br />
“Let’s just hope we don’t encounter any alien races that wish to be difficult today.” They shared a grin at that. “But how are you and Seven doing, B’Elanna?”<br />
<br />
The question shouldn’t have made B’Elanna blush, but it did. And worse, she could see the surprise that quickly turned into smug amusement on her old friend’s face at the sight of it. “We, uh, she’s fine, she’s feeling a lot better now.”<br />
<br />
Chakotay crossed his arms over his chest and smirked at her.<br />
<br />
“Arrgh, damn it, stop doing that!” He laughed as she groaned and laid her forehead against the desk.<br />
<br />
“You’ve got it bad, my friend.”<br />
<br />
“Oh you’re not kidding.” B’Elanna growled and sat back up to rub her hands across her face. “I can’t believe I managed to deny it to myself for so long, I mean, surely I’m not <em>that</em> stupid?” <br />
<br />
Chakotay didn’t offer a comment on that and she gave him a brief glare before closing her eyes again, rubbing wearily at the edge of her ridges. “Yeah.” She sighed.<br />
<br />
“Um, B’Elanna?”<br />
<br />
“Today, the more time I spend with her the more I want to just... grab hold of her and never ever let go.”<br />
<br />
“Uh, yeah, about that, B’Elanna...”<br />
<br />
“Its like I went from keeping as much distance between us as possible, to wanting to keep her with me always. It’s a little... bewildering. Even for me.”<br />
<br />
“Does that count as a second marriage proposal?” Seven wanted to know, curiosity in her voice.<br />
<br />
B’Elanna’s eyes snapped open.<br />
<br />
There was Chakotay, with a frozen and slightly pained expression, not so discreetly pointing to his left. Her eyes obediently followed the direction.<br />
<br />
In the open door stood Seven, dressed in B’Elanna’s burgundy blouse and black slacks, her blonde hair combed but still down from its usual bun. She held a stack of padds in one hand, and a small stasis tray in the other. A quick glance downwards confirmed that she was in fact still barefoot.<br />
<br />
“Seven?” B’Elanna croaked weakly. “What are you doing here?”<br />
<br />
“I will not be long.” Seven assured to Chakotay and B’Elanna both, clearly believing she had interrupted. “You forgot these in your quarters earlier. And you need sustenance.” She placed the small tray in front of B’Elanna and the padds to her right.<br />
<br />
She smiled at the stunned woman. “I shall see you later, B’Elanna.” She nodded briefly at Chakotay. “Commander.” And then Seven left, as suddenly as she had appeared.<br />
<br />
The two remaining in the room looked at each other in silence for a long moment. Finally B’Elanna looked down at the padds. Indeed, she had forgotten those at home earlier, and if she hadn’t been busy daydreaming about Seven she would have noticed before now.<br />
<br />
“What did she get you?” Chakotay wanted to know, a little less teasing in his voice now.<br />
<br />
B’Elanna lifted the lid to find a bowl of her favourite soup, a glass of milk, two simple cheese and cucumber on rye sandwiches, and a steaming cup of coffee. Exactly what she would have replicated for herself.<br />
<br />
Something squeezed her heart and made her eyes sting just a little.<br />
<br />
Noticing her reaction Chakotay smiled, patted her on the shoulder, and quietly left B’Elanna to her thoughts.<br />
<br />
---------------------- <br />
<br />
As so often happens on Voyager, a few unforeseen things wreaked havoc with the ship, and while the damage was fairly negligible it did make for a more busy shift than what B’Elanna’s workday had been so far. In fact the various little tasks piled up one after another until B’Elanna looked around and realized that it was just after midnight. The duty shifts had long since changed without her noticing.<br />
<br />
Cursing lightly under her breath, B’Elanna went to adjust her work hours for the following day and making sure someone capable would be in charge in her absence. This was why she disliked messing with her work hours. Sure, B’Elanna could do double shifts like nobody’s business if it was needed, and frequently did, but for those times when it wasn’t strictly necessary, starting work at any other hour than the one her body expected her to was just asking for trouble.<br />
<br />
A bleep from a nearby screen on one of the workstations flanking the walls of Engineering caught her attention, and as she turned to look Seven appeared, in B’Elanna’s quarters no less.<br />
<br />
“Seven?” B’Elanna was a little surprised and a lot pleased that Seven would contact her. “Hey. I’m sorry I haven’t called to say that I was going to be late, I got caught up in work and lost track of time.”<br />
<br />
Seven nodded. “I suspected as much, and did not expect you to call me. Have you finished work now?”<br />
<br />
“Yeah, I’m signing off now, I should be back home in a little bit.” There was a pang of wistful longing at the idea that her quarters might have been home for the both of them, and it made B’Elanna feel a little embarrassed. How did she get this bad so quickly? “Will, um, will you be there?”<br />
<br />
“I...” Seven looked a bit unsure. “...was uncertain of how long you wished for me to stay. I had intended to go regenerate after speaking with you now.”<br />
<br />
How about you stay indefinitely? B’Elanna thought and smiled winsomely. She couldn’t exactly say that though. “Do you need to regenerate tonight?”<br />
<br />
“No...” Seven’s reply was slow as she stared at B’Elanna in fascination. “I could postpone my regeneration until... tomorrow evening?”<br />
<br />
“Good! I mean, that would be good... if you want to stay tonight?” B’Elanna’s smile was contagious and the two of them simply smiled at one another for a long moment. Vaguely aware of where she was and that she didn’t want to get caught grinning like a lovesick fool by anyone that worked under her, B’Elanna forced herself back into focus. “I’ll be home in just a little bit then.”<br />
<br />
“Very well.” As B’Elanna reached to turn the viewscreen off, she was halted by Seven. “B’Elanna?”<br />
<br />
“Yes?” B’Elanna noticed a different kind of smile on Seven’s lips, and was curious.<br />
<br />
Then her mouth dropped open and her eyes felt like they were about to fall out.<br />
<br />
“SEVEN!” She gasped and threw herself at the viewscreen, awkwardly trying to cover it with her body. “Woman, have you gone <em>insane</em>? What are you <em>doing</em>?”<br />
<br />
The voice coming over the speakers sounded a bit smug to B’Elanna’s ears.<br />
<br />
“You did say that no day is complete without ‘a little half-naked Seven’. I merely wished to ensure that your day did not begin... incomplete.”<br />
<br />
Blushing furiously and having difficulty breathing B’Elanna cast her eyes about wildly. Had anyone seen? Was anyone close enough to have caught sight of Seven... B’Elanna’s mind did a little detour. “Kahless!” And what if someone had heard? She groaned.<br />
<br />
“There was no-one else in visual range. I made certain of that.”<br />
<br />
“Buh.” B’Elanna said.<br />
<br />
“I shall see you soon, B’Elanna.”<br />
<br />
With that and a small clicking sound B’Elanna knew the viewscreen had been turned of from Seven’s end. Still B’Elanna couldn’t move.<br />
<br />
It took the arrival of a few nightshift engineers, who walked up to their Chief and stared with wide eyes at the fiercely red woman flattening herself against a work console.<br />
<br />
“A-are you alright, Chief?” One of the braver men asked hesitantly.<br />
<br />
Mortified, B’Elanna roared at them and marched out. She was halfway to the turbolift when her stride faltered, her thoughts returning to Seven’s unexpected little display.<br />
<br />
Oh ye gods, what a woman, B’Elanna groaned and hid her face with her arm. And that woman was waiting in B’Elanna’s quarters for her to come home.<br />
<br />
A giggle escaped.<br />
<br />
She straightened and resumed walking with new purpose in her stride and a wide grin on her face. No time to dawdle there. <br />
<br />
<em>Seven was waiting for her.</em> <br />
<br />
<br />
---------------------- <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</span>Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-90392162701261596152012-03-05T19:54:00.002+01:002012-03-05T19:54:44.936+01:00Laugh With Me pt3STAR TREK VOYAGER-fanfic. Some touchy conversations about clothes and more.<br />
(Seven/B'Elanna)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0169')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0169')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0169')"><h4>Read Laugh With Me pt3</h4></a><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0169"><br />
<br />
For disclaimers see pt1.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Laugh With Me pt3 </strong></span> <br />
------------------------------------------------- <br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
They barely had the time to materialize back in B’Elanna’s quarters before her commbadge beeped. It was Captain Janeway.<br />
<br />
“B’Elanna, I just wanted to thank you for looking after Seven, and to say that I’m having Chakotay put you on partial duty today, he’ll inform whoever you have to take over for you not to expect you until after dinner.”<br />
<br />
“I, ah, thank you Captain, but that’s not necessary...”<br />
<br />
“Even as much as I am... feeling the effects of yesterday, I could still tell that you’re so tired you could fall over. So do an old friend a favour, Lanna...” Janeway’s voice was warm and affectionate. “Get some sleep. Both of you.”<br />
<br />
“Janeway out.”<br />
<br />
In the silence left behind Janeway’s voice, Seven and B’Elanna stood simply looking at one another and blinking. Finally B’Elanna’s lips twitched a little, and a small laugh escaped her.<br />
<br />
“I can’t say it is a bad idea.” She admitted, smiling warmly at Seven whose eyes grew just a fraction wider at the sight. “I could use some sleep, and I know you definitely do. So what would you prefer to do? Catch another hour or two of sleep before I fix us some breakfast, or eat now and then go back to sleep?”<br />
<br />
The fair head tilted in consideration. “Although the prospect of you providing breakfast is very intriguing, I believe we both require more sleep to function adequately. Also, I enjoyed the sensation of sleeping in your bed, Lieut... B’Elanna.” She nodded slightly, decision made. “We shall go to bed.”<br />
<br />
Feeling ridiculously mushy over the sound of her name coming from the blonde, B’Elanna shook her head slightly and nudged Seven towards the bedroom. “Very well then, to bed it is. I’ll intrigue you with my amazing breakfast-making skills later.”<br />
<br />
Depositing Seven inside the room B’Elanna turned around to head for the couch, but was stopped by a small touch at her elbow.<br />
<br />
“Where are you going?”<br />
<br />
B’Elanna faltered. “Um... to the couch?” She pointed at it, feeling a little confused and trying to read Seven’s expression. “To get some sleep?”<br />
<br />
Seven regarded the bed.<br />
<br />
“I believe your bed is a standard size designed to house two, B’Elanna. Would there be insufficient space left for you if I was also in it?” Slowly a frown appeared and the hand fell away from B’Elanna’s arm. “Or is it that my presence would be...” Seven appeared to search for the right word, and when she continued it was in a quieter voice. “...too unappealing?”<br />
<br />
Something about that voice cut painfully into B’Elanna and made her momentarily unable to speak. That brief moment was all that was needed for Seven to straighten her posture into something resembling her usual stance. “Perhaps I should go regenerate.” To B’Elanna’s horror Seven turned and, avoiding to look at B’Elanna, continued in the same quiet voice. “I thank you for your time and your kindness.”<br />
<br />
“Whoa, whoa, wait!” B’Elanna hurried to throw her arms around Seven and hold her as tight as she dared. “When did I say anything like that?” She exhaled and leaned her head against a convenient nearby shoulder. “To most people sharing a bed is kind of an intimate thing, even if it is just sleeping. I didn’t think you’d feel that comfortable with me there, and besides, I kind of thought you might’ve enjoyed having the bed to yourself.”<br />
<br />
Gingerly a pair of hands moved up to circle B’Elanna’s waist in a return embrace, a small and awkward one at best since B’Elanna was for all intents and purposes pinning Seven’s arms at her sides, but still a clear attempt. B’Elanna’s heart, which was already beating hard from the sudden scare, gleefully pounded away in her chest.<br />
<br />
<em>Aww geez.</em> Chakotay was right, it <em>was</em> damn obvious how she felt about Seven. Since when did <em>Chakotay</em> get to be right about something? And how could she not have seen this coming herself?<br />
<br />
She relaxed her arms into an embrace rather than a hold, glad that Seven did not see the blush on her face.<br />
<br />
“Sharing a bed is intimate? Even without copulating?” Seven wondered. “Why?”<br />
<br />
“Erm, well...” B’Elanna wondered how she managed to do this to herself. “I’m not sure, but I think it might have something to do with how exposed we feel when we sleep. In sleep you’re kind of open and defenceless, so it makes sense you’d mostly try to be that way only around people you feel safe with, those that are the closest to you?” She sighed. “Honestly Seven, I don’t know why it is, just that is how most people work.”<br />
<br />
“I have often heard my regeneration cycles be compared to sleep.”<br />
<br />
“Yeah, I’ve made the comparison a couple of times myself. It seems to fit.” B’Elanna wondered if she should let go now, or if she could get away with holding Seven close for a little while longer. Ahh, Seven smelled so nice.<br />
<br />
“I often have company while I regenerate. Some watch me as I regenerate, and some, like the Captain, have in the past come especially for that purpose.”<br />
<br />
Instinctively B’Elanna stepped back and frowned. A very angry part of her wanted to know who exactly had been in Seven’s Cargo Bay and when, so that she could go pay them all a personal visit, but that was not helping right now. “The Captain tucking you in is... it is a sign of how much she cares about you, you know?”<br />
<br />
“Tucking in? Like what SamanthaWildman, Neelix and I do to Naomi?”<br />
<br />
Charmed, B’Elanna smiled. “Yeah, a little like that. As for those other people...” She grit her teeth a bit. “...I think we’ll have to do something about that. But later, not today.” She gave Seven a sheepish look. “Are you sure you’re okay sharing the bed with me?”<br />
<br />
In reply Seven simply crawled into the bed, scooted as far in towards the wall as she could, and divided up the pillows. She wore a small smile as she did so, and B’Elanna just melted anew.<br />
<br />
She cleared her throat. “Alright. I, um, I’m just going to go... change.” B’Elanna grabbed her nightwear and stepped into the bathroom. She caught sight of a pair of interested blue eyes looking at her from the bathroom mirror just as she pulled the sleep shirt down. “Seven!” She gasped and tugged the shirt down a little more.<br />
<br />
“Yes B’Elanna?” The other woman asked sweetly, no trace of embarrassment present or any indicator that she had been caught doing anything she shouldn’t have.<br />
<br />
B’Elanna chuckled. “Just go to sleep.” She got into bed next to Seven and couldn’t help the smile that just wouldn’t go away. There was something a little like childlike excitement over Seven as she made herself comfortable in B’Elanna’s bed, which was just about the cutest thing B’Elanna had ever seen. After a moment Seven shuffled closer, until their shoulders touched slightly. Then, with a tiny sigh, the blonde finally settled in and fell asleep.<br />
<br />
Marvelling over the happiness she felt from such a small thing, B’Elanna relaxed as well, and finally found that deep, peaceful sleep she had been in such desperate need of. <br />
<br />
---------------------- <br />
<br />
They slept longer than intended, turning the promised breakfast into brunch. B’Elanna woke up first, to find herself warm and cosy with the pleasantly heavy weight of one slumbering ex-Drone draped over her side. She allowed herself a moment of simply enjoying the sensation, especially the tiny tickle of Seven’s breath right underneath her ear, wondering if there was anything she could do to make this a recurring thing.<br />
<br />
Extracting herself without waking Seven took a while, but finally B’Elanna escaped with a pillow tucked in her place. After realizing how late it was she started on that breakfast she had promised her slumbering guest, deciding that a day like this called for banana pancakes with all the trimmings B’Elanna could think up.<br />
<br />
When Seven woke up it was to a soft pillow in place of a very warm and very pleasingly scented half-klingon engineer, which was clearly too inferior a substitute and a situation that was unacceptable. She sat up pondering how to rectify this when the scent of B’Elanna’s cooking reached her, followed by B’Elanna herself.<br />
<br />
“You’re awake?” B’Elanna smiled happily. “In that case, stay right there and I’ll be back.” She disappeared from the door but continued to speak. “In fact Seven, scoot up a little.”<br />
<br />
Seven did as bid, and soon B’Elanna returned with a pair of trays.<br />
<br />
“Breakfast in bed!” She declared cheerfully while carefully balancing one tray and arranging the other in front of Seven, pulling out the little legs to make a tiny table. “Well, very late breakfast in bed, I guess.”<br />
<br />
B’Elanna situated herself and her tray in front of Seven, so that she could enjoy the amazement and delight the other woman unconsciously displayed over every little thing, without being too obvious about it. She kept up a light conversation while they ate, and also made sure to ask and was relieved to hear that Seven was ‘functioning within acceptable parameters”.<br />
<br />
“If you think you’re up to it, why don’t you go take a shower?” B’Elanna suggested after they had finished eating. “You could replicate yourself something to wear, or borrow something of mine if you want. I’ll clean this up while you do.”<br />
<br />
While B’Elanna busied herself in the kitchenette, Seven took the opportunity to look through her closet. If given a choice, Seven definitely wanted something that carried B’Elanna’s scent, especially if she was not going to be on duty anyway. Most of B’Elanna’s clothing was inadequate in size in all manner of ways, but she did own a few articles of clothing that were loose-fitting enough that Seven might wear them.<br />
<br />
Then something caught Seven’s eye. “B’Elanna? Why do you own a biosuit?”<br />
<br />
“What? What biosuit...” A bit confused B’Elanna walked back to see Seven holding up a certain wine-coloured outfit. “...oh! Um, that’s not a biosuit, Seven.” She scratched her cheek a bit, feeling embarrassed. “That’s an old pyjamas I haven’t worn in a... oh, a pretty long while.”<br />
<br />
“A... pyjamas?” Seven eyed the outfit that aside from the material looked rather identical to one of her own uniforms. She frowned slightly. “This is sleepwear?”<br />
<br />
“Yes. That one is, not that I’ve used it since... before you came onboard, I think.” Actually B’Elanna wondered why she hadn’t just tossed it into the recycler by now and gotten rid of it. She wasn’t sure what Seven was thinking, but she did seem strangely disturbed by the discovery of the pyjamas. Perhaps it would be best to explain herself, so that there wouldn’t be any misunderstandings. “I basically got caught walking around the decks in it one night, and took a lot of teasing for it. So I put it away.”<br />
<br />
“I wear a uniform like this every day.” Troubled blue eyes met B’Elanna’s. “Everywhere and at any hour.”<br />
<br />
“I...” Belatedly B’Elanna realized that she had stumbled headfirst into what could well be a very touchy subject. “I know. Some people” B’Elanna included, actually. “have wondered why you haven’t designed yourself something a little more reminiscent of a uniform, but I guess we all figured that you have medical reasons to keep wearing those outfits.”<br />
<br />
“That is only true for the fabric, not the cut. The Doctor is the one that designs my clothing.” And that B’Elanna suspected was the reason behind everything, as she could say a few unflattering but likely very true words about the Doctor’s behaviour towards Seven. <br />
<br />
“Pretty much everyone is used to it by now, so if you feel comfortable wearing your suits there’s no reason you shouldn’t.” She patted Seven’s arm encouragingly. “Or if you wanted to try something new you could try your hand at designing something yourself. Between Voyager’s database and the advice of someone like Captain Janeway or Sam Wildman, you could probably come up with something.”<br />
<br />
“And...” B’Elanna got something faraway in her expression, causing Seven’s attention to shift to her instead of the questions raised by an old piece of sleepwear. “You’re not the first woman to walk around this ship in something like that anyway.” A little wistful smile found its way to B’Elanna’s lips. “Kes took to wearing outfits similar to yours for a while before she left the ship. Not quite as... snug, mind you,” She winked at Seven. “but still very similar.”<br />
<br />
“Kes.” There was something searching in the look Seven gave B’Elanna, but B’Elanna was looking at memories at that moment and missed it. “The Doctor speaks warmly of her. He used to speak of her often when I was still new aboard Voyager, and have me train social interactions with the lessons she had devised.”<br />
<br />
“She was a dear friend.” B’Elanna said simply. “She was loved by many onboard, like the Doctor, Neelix or Tom. Even Tuvok cared a great deal for her, in his own, Vulcan-logical way.” She shrugged a little. “She is missed.”<br />
<br />
“I... did not get the chance to know her.” Seven awkwardly hung the pyjamas away, glancing at B’Elanna from the corner of her eye. <br />
<br />
“Yeah, and that was a real shame. She would have been a great friend for you.” B’Elanna smiled, picturing it. “No offence to the Doc, but she would have been more of a help to you in coming to terms with how to be an individual than he ever could be. And she wouldn’t have allowed for a certain stubborn, thick-headed half-Klingon to carry on like a cranky targh with a toothache, either.”<br />
<br />
Seven tilted her head in question, and B’Elanna chuckled a little. “I can practically hear her now. ‘B’Elanna Torres, you stop being so stubborn and admit that you <em>like</em> her! You might even find out that the two of you have a lot in common.’ Something like that.”<br />
<br />
“You like me?” Seven asked astonished, her earlier misgivings evaporating.<br />
<br />
“Heh, yes, I thought that was rather obvious by now?” B’Elanna grinned a bit sheepishly. “For the record, I don’t share my bed with anyone I don’t like.” She winked at Seven again. “I’m not <em>that</em> kind of a woman.”<br />
<br />
Grinning to cover her sudden embarrassment as she realized she was flirting with Seven, and not even being subtle about it, B’Elanna reached into her closet and pulled out a few articles of clothing that might fit. “How about these? These pants are long on me so the might just be long enough for you, and this blouse is a bit bigger than the others. Do you want them, or should we replicate something?”<br />
<br />
Seven eagerly accepted the clothing, still determined to have something of B’Elanna’s to wear, and made for the bathroom. She stopped just inside the doorway, her back to B’Elanna but her head turned just slightly so the edge of a smile was visible.<br />
<br />
“B’Elanna?”<br />
<br />
“Yes, Seven?”<br />
<br />
“I like you too.”<br />
<br />
With that Seven closed the door behind her, and within moments the sonic shower started up, its humming obscuring all other sounds.<br />
<br />
B’Elanna at first stared, stunned, at the closed door, and then grinned madly. “Yes!” She breathed to herself and tried to stifle the giggle that wanted to erupt, as she set out to finally clean her quarters up to something a bit more presentable.<br />
<br />
---------------------- <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</span>Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-43195101489214607182012-03-02T15:58:00.001+01:002012-04-04T12:22:30.228+02:00Laugh With Me pt2STAR TREK VOYAGER-fanfic. A little trip to Sickbay and some revelations thanks to Chakotay.<br />
(Seven/B'Elanna)<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>For those that might find this confusing, in this story B'Elanna's hearing is better than human, and the privacy shield in the doctor's office is set to standard human. So yes, B'Elanna can hear, although not nearly as well as Seven.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0168')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0168')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0168')"><h4>Read Laugh With Me pt2</h4></a><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0168"><br />
<br />
Disclaimers in pt1.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Laugh With Me pt2 </strong></span> <br />
----------------------------------------------- <br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Early the following morning, after far too little sleep and with cricks in places cricks had no business being, B’Elanna awoke to a subtle shuffling sound. It took her a moment to get her bearings and to identify the sound.<br />
<br />
“Lieutenant? You are awake?” Came an uncharacteristically quiet and hesitant voice from the direction of B’Elanna’s bedroom.<br />
<br />
“Seven?” B’Elanna asked a bit groggily, sitting up as a first step to go see what the all but whispering woman wanted. That was when Seven gingerly stepped into the room.<br />
<br />
Eyes wide and jaw threatening to fall into her own lap, B’Elanna felt all vestiges of sleep leave her mind at warp speed.<br />
<br />
Although slightly hunched over and bleary-eyed, with one hand to her forehead and the other steadying herself on the doorframe, Seven was still a sight to see. As naked as the night before, with her blonde hair falling in slightly bed-mussed waves down to her shoulders and softening familiar features in an unexpected way, it was a sight B’Elanna caught herself wishing she could wake up to every morning.<br />
<br />
Embarrassment gave B’Elanna a burst of extra speed as she shot up from the couch and turned Seven around, guiding her back inside to sit on the bed while B’Elanna rummaged through her drawers. “Sit here for a bit Seven, I’ll get you something to... aha!”<br />
<br />
She yanked out a worn but large old sleep T-shirt and a pair of shorts to go with it, and awkwardly helped Seven into them. Only once she had accomplished that and Seven was at least partially covered did she dare look Seven in the eye.<br />
<br />
“Oh wow...” B’Elanna winced in sympathy. “You’re clearly not feeling well today.” Miserable blue eyes met hers in silent agreement. “Hey, wait a minute... I’d have thought your nanoprobes would have kept you from having a hangover?”<br />
<br />
“Synthenol or alcohol made for ingestion cause my nanoprobes to malfunction.” Was the very quiet reply as Seven closed her eyes and put both hands unsteadily to her head. “Until the contaminant has been cleared out of my system, I will have to endure this... discomfort.”<br />
<br />
“No you won’t.” Alarmed at the idea that Seven’s nanoprobes might be malfunctioning but trying not to show it, B’Elanna quickly grabbed her commbadge and slapped it. “Torres to the Doctor!”<br />
<br />
“What can I do for you this morning, B’E-“ Came the Doctor’s voice over the ship’s speakers, a bit less jovially than usual. B’Elanna cut him off.<br />
<br />
“Doc, Seven says her nanoprobes are malfunctioning! I think she needs medical care.”<br />
<br />
“After last night, I imagine she does.” The Doctor agreed. “Feel free to come on over then, Lieutenant, as I assume you will be bringing our errant partygoer?”<br />
<br />
“I will be fine, Lieutenant. I just need to wait it out.” Seven objected mildly, putting a hand on B’Elanna’s arm. B’Elanna immediately covered it with her own.<br />
<br />
“No Seven, we’ll have the Doc check you out, give you something for the pain.” She patted the hand reassuringly. “Then we’ll come right back, get some food into you, and you’ll go back into bed.”<br />
<br />
Before Seven could answer, B’Elanna put an arm supportively around her and called out to the computer. “Computer, two to beam directly to Sickbay.”<br />
<br />
The Doctor blinked a bit surprised as they materialized in Sickbay.<br />
<br />
“Well, well... I rather thought you would walk here.” He admitted with a little grin. “But no matter, the faster you’re here the faster I can treat you.”<br />
<br />
“Of course Seven’s not up to waltzing around the ship!” B’Elanna snarled and helped the other woman to a biobed. “You think we would be here if she was?”<br />
<br />
“Oh, of course.” The Doctor said contritely, approaching Seven. “I did not mean to make light of what happens with your nanoprobes in situations like this. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”<br />
<br />
“I know, Doctor.” Seven said quietly. “Good morning, Captain.”<br />
<br />
As the woman in question groaned at Seven in reply, B’Elanna noticed that she, Seven and the Doctor were in fact not the only ones in Sickbay. Captain Janeway sat on a biobed nearby, looking if possible even more miserable than Seven, and clearly terribly embarrassed. Chakotay was there as well, looking as if he had been heading for the Doctor’s office when B’Elanna and Seven had transported in.<br />
<br />
“You can wait with Commander Chakotay in my office if you’d like.” The Doctor offered helpfully as he prepared his medical tricorder. “If not I’m afraid you would have to leave, it is a privacy issue as I’m sure you understand.”<br />
<br />
“That’s fine.” B’Elanna nodded quickly. “And I’m sorry for barging in, Captain.” She turned to Seven and touched her arm. “I’ll be just over there, okay?”<br />
<br />
She didn’t wait for the confused-looking blonde to reply, and joined Chakotay in the small room. The glass wall immediately smoked over, obscuring whatever was going on inside Sickbay so that neither of them would see or, at least in theory, hear what was said and done.<br />
<br />
There wasn’t quite enough room to pace with two people inside the Doctor’s office, so B’Elanna leaned against the wall, crossed her arms over her chest, and began to subtly bounce in place. Chakotay strode over to stand companionably next to her.<br />
<br />
“Did Tom get what was coming to him?” She asked with a slight baring of teeth, trying to distract herself so that she did not listen in to the voices she could still hear in the room outside.<br />
<br />
“For a start, maybe.” Chakotay smirked and flexed his hand. “The Captain will undoubtedly want to hand out the rest of his punishment herself, so we’re waiting until she feels better.”<br />
<br />
B’Elanna snorted, a little amused despite herself. Captain Janeway would make Tom wish he’d never been born for this massive humiliation, and as B’Elanna was still a bit worried about malfunctioning nanoprobes and generally feeling incredibly protective in regards to a certain lovely ex-Drone, she felt it would be well deserved.<br />
<br />
“Did they come up with what had caused it? I mean, I’m sure Tom spiked the punch, but the Captain should have noticed that long before she got anywhere near drunk.” Seven of course was another matter, if she’d had a cup that would have been plenty.<br />
<br />
“It turned out there were three types of punch at the party yesterday, all of them spiked although the bright orange one was the most heavily alcoholic.” Chakotay explained. B’Elanna recalled the almost fluorescent colour with a shudder, little bits of purple and sickly green had been swimming around in it. Needless to say, she had not felt compelled to try it. “The real problem is the one Neelix made specially for the Captain.”<br />
<br />
“Oh? Which one was that?” <br />
<br />
“A brown one based on some nut-like thing, I forgot the name but anyway Neelix could only make a small amount of it. Apparently it tasted a bit like bitter chocolate, and Neelix kept it in a pitcher behind the counter.” Chakotay shrugged. “I didn’t see it personally. Either way, those nuts react with coffee, which the Captain had been drinking all day, and then with a splash of alcohol it apparently had the same effect as downing a hundred percent proof.”<br />
<br />
B’Elanna gave a brief whistle, feeling sorry for her Captain but also glad that she herself had never located the brown goo. She practically lived off coffee regularly too.<br />
<br />
“Yeah.” Chakotay agreed wryly. “Just imagine if the rest of us had gotten hold of it as well.”<br />
<br />
“Scary.” They both nodded at that and stood there quietly for a moment.<br />
<br />
“So, yeah, I might be a bit late for my shift today.” B’Elanna mentioned absently, more to say something than out of any particular need for the ship’s Commander to know her whereabouts. “There’s nothing pressing scheduled, and I’ll let Vorik know beforehand, so it should be alright.”<br />
<br />
“Are you going to be taking care of Seven?” He turned to look at her with something like mild surprise in his eyes. “Wait, did she spend the night at your place? I was told a few people dropped by Cargo Bay Two and didn’t see her.”<br />
<br />
B’Elanna narrowed her eyes at him. “Who exactly was ‘dropping by’, and why would they after the kind of evening she had?” A blank look was her answer. “Seven has absolutely no damn privacy. And I wasn’t about to just toss her into storage or something when she wasn’t feeling well. So yeah, of course she stayed with me.” <br />
<br />
She glared at him defensively, but Chakotay merely smiled and held his hands up placatingly. “No, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you looked out for her. She couldn’t have been in better hands.” He couldn’t resist to add. “It just surprised me, since you don’t get along and all.”<br />
<br />
“Aw, Chakotay, no...” She rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes, as if to ward away the weariness. “I like her, actually. But you know how I am, all a mess of complicated, confusing and contradictory feelings, and the worst imaginable temper to go along with it.”<br />
<br />
“Don’t forget territorial.”<br />
<br />
“<em>And</em> territorial, happy?” She sighed and dropped her voice to no more than a whisper, looking at the ceiling with an expression Chakotay couldn’t place. “The thing is, Chakotay... last night, the things she said... Kahless, if she meant even one of them...” B’Elanna turned round, dazed eyes on her old friend. “I think I’d have to marry that woman.”<br />
<br />
---------------------- <br />
<br />
Unseen by B’Elanna Seven’s head had lifted at the beginning of a certain conversation, and at that last comment she snapped around to stare wide-eyed at the darkened glass of the Doctor’s office.<br />
<br />
“Seven!” Both the Doctor and Janeway cried out in alarm, both at the sudden reaction and the slight dusting of pink that came along with it.<br />
<br />
Inside the office B’Elanna eeped, grabbed Chakotay with one hand and slapped the other one over her mouth.<br />
<br />
Seven sat silent for a long moment, blinking rapidly and ignoring both the worried people next to her and the blush warming her cheeks. Finally she tilted her head slightly and asked in a subdued voice. “A marriage proposal, Lieutenant?”<br />
<br />
B’Elanna turned deep red and felt as if she was about to faint. “I, I, I... er, I, um, that is... I’m sorry.”<br />
<br />
Chakotay raised an eyebrow in mild interest and tried to be reassuring. “No, that’s fine, don’t worry... I won’t tell anyone. It’s a little surprising, but hey, she’s a lot better choice than Tom Paris.”<br />
<br />
Janeway, having perked up considerably with a few hyposprays, shared a concerned look with the Doctor, and then grabbed a medical tricorder of her own. The two of them flanked Seven and waved the devices up and down, but she continued to ignore them.<br />
<br />
Chakotay started laughing a little and slapped the mortified woman next to him on the shoulder. “Oh wow, it’s all pretty damn obvious in hindsight, isn’t it? The way you’ve always reacted to her and gotten right in her face, fighting over every little thing...” <br />
<br />
B’Elanna shook her head frantically to get him to shut up, but Chakotay continued blithely. “That’s sexual frustration and Klingon flirting right there, right?”<br />
<br />
Seven blushed a little further. “That is a... surprisingly astute observation. I had not considered that.”<br />
<br />
Janeway grabbed the Doctor’s arm and hissed. “What is <em>wrong</em> with her?”<br />
<br />
B’Elanna groaned and started banging her head against the office wall.<br />
<br />
“Hey, it’s not that bad.” Chakotay was far too amused to be comforting. “If it is any consolation, I don’t think that she knows.”<br />
<br />
“Well, I do now.” Seven said wryly, and then frowned. “Cease that activity, you will cause yourself harm.”<br />
<br />
The Doctor, about to touch Seven’s eyepiece with a smaller medical instrument, froze. “Uh, okay Seven... if you say so.” Slowly he put the device down and showed her that he was no longer holding anything.<br />
<br />
“Chakotay,” B’Elanna said in a sickly sweet voice and with a smile that showed far too many teeth to be friendly. “<em>one day</em>. No matter where, no matter when, when you least expect it... I will <em>kill</em> you.”<br />
<br />
“Of what possible use could manslaughter be?” Seven asked with a raised Borg brow, and with a meep the Captain and the Doctor took a step back from her.<br />
<br />
She considered for a moment, then added. “And for your information, Lieutenant, although my behaviour last night was...” A slightly disgusted expression. “deplorable and uncontrolled, my words were all true. I have no reason to prevaricate.”<br />
<br />
“Oh! I see.” B’Elanna turned shy. “I, um, thank you. That’s... very sweet.”<br />
<br />
Chakotay finally began to suspect that B’Elanna wasn’t in fact talking to him, and cast his eyes about suspiciously. Was there something there? “Uh, B’Elanna? Is this some kind of spiritual experience, or is there something in here that I can’t see?”<br />
<br />
B’Elanna rolled her eyes at him. “Seven, can you ask the Captain if Chakotay and I can come out now? Chakotay seems to think I’m finding a new religion.”<br />
<br />
“Captain?” Seven asked obediently. “May the Commander and Lieutenant Torres leave the Doctor’s office now?”<br />
<br />
“Sure...” Janeway said slowly, eyeing Seven a bit suspiciously. “if you can promise me there will be no manslaughter.”<br />
<br />
Seven did not need to answer as a red-faced B’Elanna entered followed by Chakotay who looked like the penny had just dropped.<br />
<br />
“So Seven could hear us in there?” He whispered to B’Elanna, who sighed.<br />
<br />
“Indeed Commander.” The woman in question answered dryly, startling him.<br />
<br />
“Wait... you were talking to...” Janeway waved at B’Elanna and Chakotay, clearly relieved when she received a slight nod in reply. “Oh thank goodness.” She muttered under her breath. Seven thought it would be impolite to point out that if she could hear the conversation inside a sound protected room then she could certainly still hear her.<br />
<br />
“Well then, I release both my patients to their quarters.” The Doctor declared, cheerfully now that the mystery of Seven hearing voices was solved. “Rest and plenty of fluids for both of you, try to eat something when you can, and Seven is on sick leave today.”<br />
<br />
“And before you think up some way to circumvent that, remember...” The Doctor said when Seven looked as if she wanted to protest. “...I can make you rest here in Sickbay instead. All day.”<br />
<br />
“That won’t be necessary, Doc. Seven will be staying with me.” Stepping up to lend a supporting hand to Seven’s elbow if needed, B’Elanna glanced up at Seven. “Right?”<br />
<br />
The warm little smile sent her way had B’Elanna’s blush darken again and her heart do funny things. “Yes, Lieutenant.”<br />
<br />
“It’s B’Elanna, please.” B’Elanna muttered awkwardly and called out to the computer to transport them both back to her quarters.<br />
<br />
<br />
---------------------- <br />
<br />
<br />
</span>Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-42669461420892697632012-02-29T12:21:00.002+01:002012-02-29T12:21:51.657+01:00Laugh With Me pt1STAR TREK VOYAGER-fanfic. When two very unlikely people onboard experience some drunken hilarity, even B'Elanna can get caught in the consequences.<br />
(Seven/B'Elanna)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0167')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0167')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0167')"><h4>Read Laugh With Me pt1</h4></a><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0167"><br />
<br />
Disclaimer: Seven, B’Elanna and all things Star Trek as everyone knows do not belong to me, and I’m just borrowing them. Additionally the first joke told by Captain Janeway is likewise borrowed, but unfortunately I don’t know where it originates from. I read it on jjchopper’s tumblr (http://jumblr-crumblr.tumblr.com/) and thinking it was hers set out to obtain permission to use it. (do check out her deviantart account as well, she has some very funny STV jokes on there, although they tend to be J/7) Should anyone that reads this know where the joke comes from, then please tell me so that I can give proper credit.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Laugh With Me pt1</strong></span> <br />
----------------------------------------------------------- <br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Some days in the Delta Quadrant was more trying than others. Some days even had B’Elanna Torres turn her eyes towards distant bulkheads and wonder what higher power or potential deity she had managed to piss off that day.<br />
<br />
For most part B’Elanna Torres would have said that the day everything changed for her was one of the latter.<br />
<br />
It started innocuously enough, for Voyager at least. A slight near-miss with a hostile nebula had happened during the nightshift, something no-one onboard took lightly anymore, but thankfully B’Elanna’s much put-upon ship had escaped not much worse for wear this time. Hostile nebulas or things masquerading as such were after all Voyager’s worst nemesis, regardless of what the Borg might consider themselves, and tended to exact a heavy toll on ship and crew alike. The morning senior staff meeting had reminded B’Elanna that Neelix latest and much dreaded social event was scheduled for that evening, and made her vaguely formed plans of getting rest moot.<br />
<br />
Protests from Seven regarding irrelevant and unproductive activities ensured that Captain Janeway decreed that attendance was mandatory, and no absences would be excused. Torn between sarcastically thanking Seven and simply slamming her own head on the briefing room table, B’Elanna was just too tired to say or do either.<br />
<br />
She did wonder however, how a woman as smart as Seven could somehow fail to realize after repeating the same pattern again and again, that the best thing she could do for these enforced social events was to keep her mouth shut?<br />
<br />
The day after that had been rather average, as if to lull B’Elanna into a false sense of security. There was a fair amount of work to do, which was the way that B’Elanna liked it, but nothing was altogether pressing. Seven crossed her path a few times to annoy her, or possibly to make alterations to Astrometrics, but B’Elanna kept her cool. Tom also crossed her path a few times, managing to be even more annoying with his immature giggling and secretive comments suggesting that he had something planned for the party that she wasn’t going to find out about. She didn’t have the patience, or the interest, to deal with him so she sent him away.<br />
<br />
And so the evening arrived, and B’Elanna was well aware that she was late. Some last minute work had cropped up, of course, but mostly she had just been procrastinating, knowing that thanks to Seven’s intervention there would be no casual dropping in to make her appearance and then take off quickly tonight.<br />
<br />
When she got there the party was already in full swing, and in fairly good spirits too. Once more ignoring Tom, B’Elanna walked up to Harry and chatted with him, moving on to mingle with Chakotay, and Nicoletti, and finally wound up talking to Neelix and Sam Wildman.<br />
<br />
That was when it happened.<br />
<br />
A strange sound registered over the general noise of the room, and gradually the room hushed as everyone, B’Elanna included, stopped talking and turned towards the sound. At first B’Elanna couldn’t believe her eyes.<br />
<br />
“an, an you wanna hear a joke, Schevun?” Captain Janeway boomed merrily, clearly drunk out of her mind, as she waved her mug about in one hand so wildly that the drink in it sloshed over the edges. Her other arm was slung companionably across the shoulders of an even more incredible sight, a slouching and loose-limbed Seven who was staring drunkenly into her obviously empty mug with narrow eyes, as if more of her beverage would appear if she did so.<br />
<br />
“The Prime Directive!” <br />
<br />
A brief moment of silence followed, and then Janeway released Seven to slap herself on the leg as she laughed uproariously. Another second of Seven squinting as she tilted her head in thought, and then something completely unprecedented happened.<br />
<br />
Seven smiled, a big, toothy, amazing smile, and burst out laughing. It was a full, deep belly laugh that pulled the already unsteady woman first to her knees, and then finally down on the floor. Even lying down on the floor with both arms held to her stomach, Seven howled with laughter. <br />
<br />
Pleased with herself, Captain Janeway laughed harder when Seven started to and seemed unable to stop. “Schtil got it.” She declared and flopped down on the floor next to the laughing Seven. “Hey, Schevun? Wanna hear anuther?”<br />
<br />
She lifted her mostly empty mug and crowed to the room. “The <em>Temporal</em> Prime Directive!”<br />
<br />
Renewed gales of laughter erupted from the prone Seven, and Janeway joined in, letting go of her mug to slam her hand into the floor while she laughed raucously.<br />
<br />
“I... have one... Captain.” Seven gasped after a long moment of laughing, her voice strained from her alcohol-induced hilarity though her mode of speech was unaffected, and with one slender blue-clad arm being waived about unsteadily in Janeway’s direction. “A pilot... at the helm... and the helm itself... during flight... in a <em>starship</em>!”<br />
<br />
Yet more howling, and after a second of blinking, Janeway started up again. “Gud one!” The Captain declared, now face-first into the flooring and apparently finding nothing wrong in that arrangement.<br />
<br />
“What in Gre’thor is going on?” B’Elanna wrestled her mind back from the land of denial long enough to hiss at those around her. “Neelix? Anyone?”<br />
<br />
Wide, horrified eyes and an almost room-covering dance of shaking faces met her in all directions.<br />
<br />
“...” The shaking and snorting Captain said, indistinctly, while awkwardly trying to wave her arm at Seven but not able to figure out how it had twisted against the floor, and only managing a weak little twitch instead. “<em>Akochemoyaaa!</em>”<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, the last howl was quite audible, and was followed by not only gales of drunken laughter from the two shuddering women rolling around on the floor, but also from a handful of other places in the room.<br />
<br />
Slapping a hand across her eyes while discreetly trying not to smile, B’Elanna knew she had to do something, and fast. She didn’t dare glance in Chakotay’s direction, and cast her eyes everywhere else for inspiration.<br />
<br />
She found it in a pale face with wide eyes that met hers for just a moment, and then turned to, with not much success, make a mad dash towards the door.<br />
<br />
“TOM PARIS!” B’Elanna bellowed, earning snickers from the floor and a sea of faces turning towards the helmrat in question. “STOP RIGHT THERE!” Whether on instinct or for some other reason, several hands immediately reached out and stopped the escape attempt.<br />
<br />
Tuvok emerged from the crowd just as an angry looking Chakotay stepped up closer. “I bet you anything that juvenile moron spiked the punch.” B’Elanna growled, wishing in hindsight that she had paid more attention earlier that day. “No way the Captain would have let herself get soused otherwise.”<br />
<br />
“Oh dear,” Neelix exclaimed, worried. “the punch is supposed to be alcohol free. I specifically promised Seven it would be.”<br />
<br />
“Will you handle him?” B’Elanna quietly asked Chakotay, mostly for the sake of getting her old friend out of the room as soon as possible before further laughing erupted.<br />
<br />
“Oh yes.” Was the clipped answer as the big man set off, but the anger and humiliation still burning in his eyes promised a world of hurt for one Thomas Eugene Paris.<br />
<br />
With a slight nod to B’Elanna Tuvok walked over and simply lifted Captain Janeway up from the floor. Cradling the not entirely coherent woman surprisingly gently he stopped in front of B’Elanna and Neelix briefly. “I will escort the Captain to her quarters.”<br />
<br />
“...ey, pretty Schammy!” The recumbent woman grinned widely up at Sam Wildman who just happened to be in her line of sight. B’Elanna was surprised and vaguely curious to see a rather prominent blush spread on Sam’s face at the Captain’s drunken compliment. The Captain made to say something else, but Tuvok was quick to turn around and march out of the room.<br />
<br />
“Neelix, Sam, can you take the crowd?” B’Elanna continued quietly. “Do damage control if you can, get the punch away somewhere the Doc can have a look at it later.” She scanned the crowds for a certain familiar face. “Harry is around here somewhere, recruit him and whoever else you need that’s not too drunk to help out.”<br />
<br />
As Sam and Neelix nodded and set off to do just that, it left really only one thing to do, and only one person to do it. B’Elanna sighed and internally cursed her luck as she walked over to Seven.<br />
<br />
She was in no way prepared for the beaming smile directed at her when Seven spotted her, or her own reaction to it.<br />
<br />
“Lieutenant Torres!” Seven exclaimed, looking and sounding delighted. “Hello!” The awkwardness of the little hand-wave was made up for with mass enthusiasm, and the sight of Seven beaming up at her, looking adorable while waving madly, made B’Elanna blush.<br />
<br />
“Hello Seven.” She said gently and crouched down to get a good grip under Seven’s arms. Seven grew cross-eyed and let out a little ‘ooooh!’ as their faces inadvertently came close to one another, then a little squeak as B’Elanna heaved her up on her feet and hooked Seven’s arm over her shoulders.<br />
<br />
“The room is spinning.” Seven confided to B’Elanna in a whisper. “I suspect damage to the internal stabilizers.”<br />
<br />
“Uhuh.” B’Elanna muttered in amusement while staggering just a little before adjusting as Seven put most on her weight on B’Elanna. Seven weighed a lot more than she looked. “We’re going to go to your quarters, Seven, can you walk with me?”<br />
<br />
“I do not have quarters.” Seven said conversationally while clinging to B’Elanna’s neck, her feet far too out of control to be of much use. “I have some shared space in a storage facility.”<br />
<br />
That brought B’Elanna to a sudden, blinking halt. Seven didn’t seem to mind, in fact Seven didn’t seem to even notice that they’d stopped.<br />
<br />
“Change of plans, then.” B’Elanna said, frowning. “We’ll go to my quarters instead.”<br />
<br />
Hearing no objections, she set out to do just that. She did idly wonder why Ms Giggles of Borg had suddenly gone so quiet, but didn’t really look at Seven until they reached the turbolift. When she did, B’Elanna yelped, flinched hard and almost threw Seven off of her.<br />
<br />
The other woman’s face was very close to her own, and she stared at B’Elanna unblinkingly.<br />
<br />
“Seven!” B’Elanna scolded, trying to calm herself from the shock as well as gathering Seven up again and into the lift. “What are you doing?” She leaned them both against the turbolift wall and stated her deck number.<br />
<br />
“I was observing you.” Seven informed blithely, not realizing at all that she had rattled B’Elanna badly. “I like observing you, Lieutenant.”<br />
<br />
“Oh.” B’Elanna wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Should she be flattered or insulted? She settled for awkward curiosity for now. “Why?”<br />
<br />
In her current state Seven’s usual head-tilt became a head-swivel as she appeared to give it some thought. B’Elanna gripped her a little tighter, just to be on the safe side.<br />
<br />
“You are fascinating, Lieutenant.” To B’Elanna’s mind-blowing shock Seven reached up to lightly trace her hand over the side of B’Elanna’s face. “Intelligent... beautiful... intuitive...” <br />
<br />
The slow and gentle caress reached the outer edges of B’Elanna’s forehead ridges, and Seven’s voice and expression softened, became touched by something warm. “<em>Perfect.</em>”<br />
<br />
B’Elanna short-circuited. She could say or do nothing, she simply stood there blushing furiously as her heart threatened to pound right out of her chest. It was all she could do to even remember to take the occasional breath.<br />
<br />
The hand disappeared, but it was no relief as instead a pale head leaned down to rest rather intimately on B’Elanna’s shoulder.<br />
<br />
“I like that sound.” Seven revealed quietly. “It is unique. Like you.”<br />
<br />
B’Elanna stared dumbly into the door, realizing only as she felt a slight shift around her that she had been simply standing there as the lift door had both opened and closed, and that their turbolift was now on its way somewhere else, presumably to pick up other passengers.<br />
<br />
“Forget this walking stuff.” She muttered in embarrassment and awkwardly managed to jostle Seven enough to hit her commbadge. “Computer, two to beam directly to the Torres quarters.”<br />
<br />
Briefly the world turned into sparkles, and then they were standing in the middle of B’Elanna’s living room. If Seven had even noticed the change she gave no sign.<br />
<br />
Finally B’Elanna managed to wrestle herself into some semblance of control, and nudged Seven carefully. A weary little sigh was her only reward, because Seven did not even raise her head.<br />
<br />
“Tired, Seven?” B’Elanna might be confused as anything and pretty darn embarrassed, but she was not without compassion. “You should probably try to get some sleep.”<br />
<br />
Seven grumbled as B’Elanna gently guided her towards the bedroom. “I do not like to sleep.” Seven complained in something close to a whine. “Deck plating is hard, and uncomfortable.”<br />
<br />
B’Elanna stopped, connecting the two comments and not liking the conclusion. “Well, I assure you that you will be sleeping in my bed tonight, and my bed is quite soft. Okay?”<br />
<br />
A bit more resolutely she steered the other woman towards the bed. “I’m sorry that you’ll have to sleep in your uniform, but I’m afraid I don’t know how you take that thing off.”<br />
<br />
Suggestions flashed through her mind, but they were mostly rude and involved for most part some kind of solvent and a rigorous scrubbing. Some part of her suggested the use of B’Elanna’s teeth, which was the point where B’Elanna nearly tossed Seven in the direction of the bed. Forcing herself to calm instead, she gingerly supported Seven with one arm and reached over to pull the comforters down.<br />
<br />
“It is done like this.” Seven said helpfully and reached up to a spot on the side of the biosuit’s neckline.<br />
<br />
B’Elanna’s head whipped around in horror just as Seven’s biosuit fell to the floor in a little rush of air. For the umpteenth time that night, it seemed, B’Elanna felt herself freeze in place.<br />
<br />
Seven gave a little all-over shrug and gingerly stepped out of her shoes. As her feet were still wobbly and uncooperative, and B’Elanna’s supportive grip had gone numb, as she took a half-step to clear the shoes she ended up falling instead, face first, onto the bed.<br />
<br />
She didn’t move. B’Elanna on her part was too stunned to.<br />
<br />
The image of naked Seven seemed to be permanently burned into her corneas, displaying against the ceiling with perfect clarity no matter how much B’Elanna blinked.<br />
<br />
And then there was the warm weight pressed up against her side and resting on part of B’Elanna’s arm.<br />
<br />
“Kahless’ left incisor!” B’Elanna swore under her breath and managed to ease herself out of bed. The sound of soft, even breathing indicating that Seven was asleep, temporarily made B’Elanna think she was safe. Then she turned around.<br />
<br />
“Grraahh!” B’Elanna growled and covered her eyes, but it was too late, a perfect imprint of the Borgly behind had joined the one she had of the front, and she just knew that life would never be the same again. Worse, Seven was flung across the bed sideways, her head barely on a pillow and a fair part of those long legs hanging off the side.<br />
<br />
With a long-suffering sigh, and a furious blush which she did her best to ignore, B’Elanna got her arms around the naked blonde and pulled her into a better sleeping position. Seven grunted in protest but did not awaken, and B’Elanna felt relieved when she could pull the comforter up and tuck it around her unexpected guest. <br />
<br />
Finally she threaded her fingers through Seven’s hair as gently as she could, releasing it from the bun so that it would not be uncomfortable to sleep in. This final deed done, B’Elanna staggered over to her couch and threw herself on it, exhausted.<br />
<br />
As she stared at the ceiling, head full of questions and confusion - not to mention gorgeous smiling naked Borg dancing through her mind - sleep eluded her for the longest time, leaving the already so tired B’Elanna to suffer a very long night. <br />
<br />
---------------------- <br />
<br />
<br />
</span>Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-72811403258900015262012-02-26T15:34:00.001+01:002012-02-26T15:34:10.194+01:00A Day At The Mayor’s OfficeWITHOUT MEN-fanfic. It is hard being the mayor, especially when... cows are involved?<br />
(Cleotilde/Rosalba)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0166')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0166')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0166')"><h4>Read A Day At The Mayor’s Office</h4></a><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0166"><br />
<br />
<br />
Disclaimer: I have no clue who owns the rights to the “Without Men” movie, still. <br />
So, yeah, I watched “Without Men” before going to bed, and basically had this dream. ^^; <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong> A Day At The Mayor’s Office</strong></span> <br />
------------------------------------------------------------ <br />
By Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Ubaldina marched into the room which served as the mayor’s office, causing her once-nemesis Rosalba to look up at her, clearly startled.<br />
<br />
“Can’t you control her?” Ubaldina demanded with an angry wave of her arm towards the door. Obediently Rosalba looked to said doorway where, after a good long moment, a pouting and clearly reluctant Cleotilde shuffled in.<br />
<br />
Rosalba considered. “Oh, I can. But she likes my big behind the way it is, and would not prefer me in any of your dresses, so I don’t want to.” As always when the conversation touched on The Pig, however indirectly, Ubaldina’s eyes moved to look at anything but Rosalba. “What is the problem?”<br />
<br />
It was the wrong thing to say. Both women began to wave their arms and deliver their grievances in increasingly loud voices to be heard over the other. Rosalba put a stop to it with a curt little motion of her hand. “Stop!”<br />
<br />
Her lover, standing just inside the door with her arms crossed over her chest and looking for all the world like a five-year-old a breath away from throwing a temper tantrum, immediately grew quiet. It took Ubaldina a moment to peter out into silence as well.<br />
<br />
Rosalba waited a moment more before nodding. “Good. I will hear you both.” A look to Ubaldina. “You start.”<br />
<br />
“Cleotilde has gone loco.” Ubaldina sighed, no longer as loud or as irritated. “As you know, I am taking Perestroika to the next village in the morning to be bred, and as I was checking up on her just now, I found this one” An accusing finger pointed at Cleotilde. “<em>stealing</em> her!”<br />
<br />
“I was not stealing her!” Was Cleotilde’s angry outburst at the accusation. “I was liberating her!”<br />
<br />
Sometimes, just sometimes, Rosalba wondered at how her husband –The Pig – had handled his job, and if he had ever been faced with problems such as the ones she did. After all, in all modesty Rosalba was much more intelligent and strong-willed than the no good swine, and she often found herself baffled. Plus, Rosalba could read.<br />
<br />
“Cleo,” She began carefully, rubbing her temples to ward off a slight ache that was settling there. “<em>why</em> were you stealing or liberating Perestroika?”<br />
<br />
The question had Cleotilde change from standing there with a posture as if she was waiting to be scolded, to rushing forward to lean on Rosalba’s desk, eyes wide and earnest. “She is taking her to a male! Forcing her to, to, to...”<br />
<br />
Ubaldina made a rude noise and rolled her eyes, while Rosalba, secretly charmed with her lover’s concern for the village cow, reached over to pat Cleotilde’s hand soothingly.<br />
<br />
“Cleotilde, we brought this up at the last village meeting, remember? The girls are taking Perestroika to be bred so that we may eventually have two cows providing milk for all of us.” Absently Rosalba began stroking a bare arm instead. “You were there, you know that the vote was almost unanimously in favour.” <br />
<br />
Thinking back though, the only vote against had been Cleotilde.<br />
<br />
“But, but... nobody asked Perestroika!” A sad and upset little pout made its appearance. “What if she doesn’t want to go to no nasty bull?”<br />
<br />
Slightly flushed Rosalba turned wide eyes on Ubaldina, clearly asking for help. Ubaldina blushed just a little herself, although not for the same reason as Rosalba who probably wanted to drag her lover into the back and ravish her Ubaldina figured, because she was reluctantly charmed that someone cared that much for her cow. It had nothing to do with the attractive and usually self-assure woman pouting adorably before her, oh no, Ubaldina knew she preferred the men.<br />
<br />
“I know my vaca.” She explained. “She does not mind a visit to the bull, she has done that before... although it was some time ago now. If she does not like him she will reject him, and I will take her away.”<br />
<br />
“Are you sure?” Cleotilde asked suspiciously while Rosalba, unseen by the former, gave Ubaldina a grateful look.<br />
<br />
“Of course! I have had Perestroika since she was a baby.” It was proud and fond words, Ubaldina cared a great deal for her cow. “It will be good for her to have a daughter in the village. She will like the company, I think.”<br />
<br />
“See?” Rosalba asked, smiling reassuringly at her lover. “Perestroika will be taken good care of. And just think, in...” She trailed off and looked questioningly at Ubaldina.<br />
<br />
“About the same time as it takes a woman.” The resident cow expert shrugged.<br />
<br />
“...in early spring, then, we will have a baby calf around. I bet it would be very cute.”<br />
<br />
Cleotilde attempted to scoff and appear as if the thought of cute baby calves were something that did not interest her in the slightest, but it was a poor performance at best.<br />
<br />
“Can you promise not to try to liberate Perestroika again?” Rosalba asked, hiding her smile.<br />
<br />
A slightly grumpy nod and a shuffling of feet was her answer.<br />
<br />
“You could... go give her... a brushing... maybe?” Ubaldina suggested slowly, watching the spectacle and feeling somewhat bad for the other woman. As a result Cleotilde perked up slightly and, with a brief look and nod at Rosalba, took off to presumably find the cow.<br />
<br />
She left silence and two women staring at the door in her wake.<br />
<br />
“She is rather... sensitive, isn’t she?” Ubaldina asked after a long moment.<br />
<br />
“Yes.” Rosalba sighed happily, a dreamy smile on her lips. “She is a very delicate person.”<br />
<br />
Then both women realized with whom they were speaking, and with an awkward sense of embarrassment said their goodbyes, Ubaldina fleeing the room and Rosalba pretending to go over paperwork while in truth spending her time thinking of her beautiful Cleotilde.<br />
<br />
----------------------------- <br />
<br />
<br />
So it was that roughly nine months later the first birth in the village since the startling events that had left them – mostly – without men, was the birth of a calf. Cecilia and Ubaldina presided over the birth, with a horrified Rosalba watching and gasping but at least mostly keeping out of the way, until Cecilia could go outside and declare to the waiting women – and a nervously pacing Cleotilde – that it was in fact a female calf.<br />
<br />
Although technically belonging to Ubaldina, it would soon not be an unusual sight to see the woman who liked to appear tougher than anyone walking around with the young calf in tow, petting it and talking to it with delight.<br />
<br />
The calf would, on Cleotilde’s suggestion, be named Brownelle.<br />
<br />
<br />
</span>Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-4692285158885789052012-02-03T06:18:00.000+01:002012-02-03T06:18:29.311+01:00Patching Her Up 9: ScrapesWITHOUT MEN-fanfic. Getting injured in this village is not easy.<br />
(Cleotilde/Rosalba)<br />
<br />
<br />
This is the ninth installment in my series of short stories called "Patching Her Up".<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0165')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0165')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0165')"><h4>Read Patching Her Up 9: Scrapes</h4></a><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0165"><br />
<br />
Disclaimer: I have no clue who owns the rights to the “Without Men” movie, and I’m just borrowing because a certain person made me do it. <br />
<br />
My “Patching Her Up” series is just a series of short stories unrelated to one another, from different fandoms, that have a certain theme in common. Each part is a stand-alone.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong> Patching Her Up 9: Scrapes</strong></span> <br />
--------------------------------------------------------- <br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
”I’m sorry, did that hurt?” Cecilia asked blithely as her patient flinched and grit her teeth.<br />
<br />
“Mmno!” Cleotilde gasped in reply, furiously blinking so that the others would not see the tears that had once again sprung to her eyes. “Can’t feel a thing.”<br />
<br />
“What about this?” The village’s only and self-appointed nurse/doctor/herbalist asked cheerfully and jabbed a cotton swab dipped in disinfectant into the large abrasion that covered Cleotilde’s left cheek. “Doesn’t <em>that</em> hurt?”<br />
<br />
Although she had clenched her jaw to prevent from screaming, Cleotilde’s roar of pain was more than audible enough.<br />
<br />
“Cecilia, stop! What are you doing?” Rosalba protested and intervened, gently cradling her teary-eyed lover’s face. “My poor baby, look at your pretty face!”<br />
<br />
While Cleotilde had tried hard to keep her strong and stoic image intact for the ordeal, by now her unconsciously pouty lips were quivering. Rosalba cooed and sat down in Cleo’s lap to place careful little kisses around the scrapes on her girlfriend’s face.<br />
<br />
“Well, disinfecting her was pointless.” Cecilia declared airily while eyeing Rosalba. She tucked the rest of it away and smiled at Magnolia. “I’ll just put some of that ointment on her face, and then we can put some of those band-aids on and she’ll be done.”<br />
<br />
With a smitten smile and admiring eyes Magnolia exchanged the bottle of disinfectant for the strange purple jar with the overpowering smell. Rosalba patted Cleotilde’s hair a few times before finally getting off her lap to let Cecilia continue her ministrations.<br />
<br />
Cleotilde eyed the jar with growing alarm. “What is that? Why do I need it?” The smell was truly rank and tear-inducing, Rosalba would not let her sleep in the bed if she smelled like that... perhaps she would not even have sex with her before sending Cleotilde to sleep in the other room. “No, I don’t want it.”<br />
<br />
Again Rosalba soothed her fidgety lover, stroking her arm encouragingly. “What is that for, Cecilia?”<br />
<br />
The widely smiling Cecilia was very aware of Magnolia’s besotted gaze following her every move, she was most definitely getting lucky tonight. “It is a concoction which helps with healing, soothes the pain, and keeps infections away. If she wears it she will not get a scar.”<br />
<br />
Rosalba’s gasp was almost a scream. “A scar! On her beautiful face? Oh no!” She turned on her wide-eyed lover. “You are going to wear it!”<br />
<br />
At Cleotilde’s meek nod Rosalba kissed her uninjured cheek a few times more and squeezed her hand in sympathy. “Oh, <em>oh</em>. Be brave my love.”<br />
<br />
With a flourish Cecilia smeared the greenish goo on Cleotilde and had Magnolia hand her the band-aids. Within moments Cleotilde was properly bandaged up, with a strong scent of something foul clinging to her. Cecilia and Magnolia giggled as they disappeared into Cecilia’s home, no-one in town stupid enough to interrupt them there.<br />
<br />
“Oh darling...” Rosalba cooed again as she began to lead Cleotilde away. “I promise I will make a new rule, no more piñatas allowed, not even for birthdays...”<br />
<br />
-------------- <br />
<br />
As they too were out of sight, Virgelina turned to Ubaldina. “Wasn’t that...”<br />
<br />
“Yes.” Ubaldina nodded and looked in the direction of Cecilia’s home. “That was the liniment for cows that she made for Perestroika.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</span><br />
<br />Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-55763629750184385742012-01-29T08:29:00.001+01:002012-01-29T16:22:24.287+01:00Patching Her Up 8: MatchSEIREI NO MORIBITO-fanfic. Balsa always had good reasons why she never could return Tanda's feelings, even if he and Torogai never wanted to understand. <br />
(Balsa/female OC)<br />
<br />
<br />
This is the eight installment in my series of short stories called "Patching Her Up".<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0164')"><br />
</a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0164')"><h4>Read Patching Her Up 8: Match</h4></a><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0164"><br />
<br />
Disclaimer: Seirei no Moribito belongs to Nahoko Uehashi, Production I.G and probably a bunch of others, but then again I’m only borrowing Balsa and the others for a little bit.<br />
<br />
My “Patching Her Up” series is just a series of short stories unrelated to one another, from different fandoms, that have a certain theme in common. Each part is a stand-alone.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Patching Her Up 8: Match</strong></span><br />
-------------------------------------------- <br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
”It’s no more than a scratch.” Balsa pointed out even though she had already taken off her bracer when told to do so. While the injury was insignificant she wasn’t stupid enough to turn down medical care when it was offered her by people she trusted, that and arguing with Tanda or Torogai in order to get them to let it go was just expending more energy than the whole thing was worth.<br />
<br />
The ancient little woman nodded sagely as she eyed Balsa’s arm from out of the corner of her eye. “Yes, it is nothing that would kill you. Unless it gets infected.” <br />
<br />
The cut was shallow and narrow but long, reaching from wrist to elbow on Balsa’s right arm. The reason her bracers had not done their job protecting some of that area was simply that Balsa had not been wearing them when the attack that would give her the injury came. She had, in fact, been in the river, washing both herself and her clothing at the time.<br />
<br />
“Which, knowing you, it will be soon enough.” The old shamaness snorted and took another bite of a pickled egg. “So you will get it patched up. Be grateful.”<br />
<br />
“Oh, I am grateful. Even if I think you just insulted my hygiene.” Balsa said sardonically, causing Torogai to chuckle into her food. The woman was older than the very dirt, it seemed, and had not changed a bit since Balsa was a little girl. Still, sometimes Balsa felt as if she wasn’t much younger. “I take it that you won’t see to it personally?”<br />
<br />
The old woman snorted again, amused, before she reached over and served herself some more from the cauldron hanging over the fireplace. “No. And Tanda is busy collecting herbs for his medicines right now.”<br />
<br />
Balsa nodded, well aware of this and secretly grateful for this moment of being able to fully relax in what was one of the very few places remaining from her childhood that had felt anything remotely like a home. Tanda’s presence always weighed on her, like a yoke pressing her down and growing heavier each passing year. The tension, the expectant glances and wounded looks... it was suffocating sometimes.<br />
<br />
She had made her position clear on so many occasions, but it never helped. It hadn’t helped when Tanda was a growing boy of fourteen, and it still hadn’t the last time she had been there to visit. He still gave her the doe-eyed looks, the not so veiled attempts at suggesting she settle down, and he always tried to talk to her about his feelings. Worse, whether by his choice or hers, Torogai always brought up the many ways in which he would make a good father and husband, and point out what a good match he would be for Balsa.<br />
<br />
Somewhere along the line Balsa had begun pretending that she did not see or hear Tanda’s attempts, and simply ignored Torogai’s extolling of her student’s virtues. If they after almost twenty years still could not accept that Balsa just wasn’t interested in him, despite her saying so to both of them, clearly and on many occasions, then nothing was going to get through to them. Her only hope was to be patient until Tanda tired of this waiting game he had invented for himself. She knew for an absolute fact that she had never and would never encourage him.<br />
<br />
Sooner or later Torogai would insist that Tanda find a woman that would marry him, to take care of him and take him into her clan, even if it wasn’t Balsa. Balsa herself had always hoped it would be sooner.<br />
<br />
Which brought them to the current situation.<br />
<br />
“She will.” Torogai pointed with her long chopsticks at the young woman who had just entered with a small bowl of water in her hands. “It will be a good opportunity to see her work, but don’t worry, I’ll be watching.”<br />
<br />
The young woman smiled timidly. “If Master Torogai wishes it, I will do my best.”<br />
<br />
“I know you will, Sakae.” Balsa reassured, smiling slightly in return as the other woman knelt at her side and, as she gently grasped the injured arm, gazed up at Balsa through long, black lashes.<br />
<br />
It was an unexpected complication.<br />
<br />
When Balsa had received a message from Torogai months earlier that Torogai’s sister’s great-great grandchild needed an escort from her remote village, Balsa had not thought twice about changing her plans, and set out immediately. If anything she had been intrigued that there was living kin to the ancient shamaness, that there existed proof that Torogai had not simply sprung out of the dirt in the dawn of time.<br />
<br />
The village itself had been as all villages of the Yakue were to Balsa, warm, accepting and welcoming, tugging at the hidden strings of her heart and making her wish for somewhere, someplace, to belong to. Torogai’s sister Furugan, the much, much younger sister the tiny woman insisted, was all but identical to the cantankerous old woman Balsa had known for most of her life.<br />
<br />
The sight of the grandchild however had brought all of Balsa’s senses to an abrupt standstill.<br />
<br />
She was somewhat on the tall side, reed slender yet with curves generous enough to make Balsa’s mouth go dry on several occasions during their brief acquaintance, and her darkly tanned skin looked tantalizingly smooth and inviting. Ironically, at that first meeting none of that registered in Balsa’s mind. All she could see was the beautiful face, with large brown eyes and full and dangerously compelling lips, framed by long, gentle waves of soft black hair.<br />
<br />
Although Sakae now, in Torogai’s presence, acted demurely and with the respect towards an elder woman that was the Yakue way, when Balsa had first seen her she had immediately marked herself as something of a quiet rebel. When scolded by her mother for not wearing the traditional topknot in front of their visitor her reply may have been softly spoken and unassuming, but Balsa had seen a spark of temper in dark eyes as well as a touch of pride. Sakae wore her hair as she wanted because she would not be anything other than who she was, and she left it up to others whether to accept her as such or not.<br />
<br />
The hidden amusement on the old woman’s face and the mother’s resigned sigh had spoken volumes. Balsa had wanted to tell herself that this was why Sakae intrigued her, and why her eyes continued to seek the woman out for the duration of that evening. Unfortunately Balsa was more than old enough to know better.<br />
<br />
Balsa, Sakae and a handful of other Yakue heading towards other villages on the way to Yogo set out the following morning, and it was no small journey to undertake. As men and women in the small company left them, reaching their destinations along the way, new joined in, and as such Balsa and Sakae were never alone. She was grateful for that, unsettled by how strong her attraction for the younger woman was, and uncomfortable with the rather obvious fact that the intrigue was not one-sided.<br />
<br />
For the duration of their journey, Sakae had made it no secret that she was fascinated by Balsa. Although soft-spoken and gentle, the younger woman was surprisingly hard to dissuade once she had decided something... and Sakae was interested in hearing everything there was about Balsa, whether about her past or her person.<br />
<br />
Balsa ascribed this interest to that she was, as all the people from Sakae’s village had called her to begin with, the protector of Nyuga Ro Chaga, and something of a living legend among the Yakue by now. Chagum’s tale would be passed on down the generations, and Balsa’s own part in it would be remembered in Yakue myths long after even her bones were dust. It was, she supposed, only natural that Sakae, a shamaness in training, would want to hear the accounts in Balsa’s own words when she had the chance.<br />
<br />
It was difficult though, Balsa was by nature rather taciturn as it was, and to speak of that harrowing yet joyous time she had been given with the boy her heart named ‘son’ and her reason called ‘prince’ did not come easy. Sakae had a way of wheedling the words out with little more than a kind smile though, and her questions were not limited to just Balsa’s time with Chagum.<br />
<br />
While hers was a solitary life, by necessity and choice a warrior’s life, Balsa had not gone through it unaware of her preferences, nor without knowing a lover’s touch. Though they had been few and, with the exception of the very first one, casual encounters, the women Balsa had been with had left her at least not completely ignorant to flirtatious advances.<br />
<br />
This time however Balsa doubted herself. The blushing, the special smiles, the gentle touches... the heated looks... there must be another explanation. This wonderful young woman could not be interested in a worn old warrior like Balsa, not like that.<br />
<br />
With a careful touch Sakae cleaned the scratch, applied salve and expertly bandaged Balsa’s arm. Balsa watched her do it without meaning to, and their eyes met. Lost for a long moment in eyes so dark brown they almost appeared black, and the warm and almost painful feeling they brought on, Balsa was far less guarded than usual.<br />
<br />
Sakae walked away with a hypnotic swing to her hips and a mysterious little smile over her shoulder, presumably to put away the supplies and clean up, and Balsa’s eyes obediently followed.<br />
<br />
“She shows promise.” Torogai hummed with approval and an almost smug air, as if she in any way had a hand Sakae’s education until now. “Beautiful, too... resembles me when I was a girl.”<br />
<br />
Now that was a sobering if not ridiculous thought, and it snapped Balsa’s attention back to her surroundings quite nicely. She hid her amused smile as well as she could and refrained to comment, knowing by the raised eyebrow and the huff that Torogai read her mind all too well on that point.<br />
<br />
“Tanda certainly seems to think so.” The old woman pointed out. “He seemed quite smitten in fact, couldn’t keep his eyes off her.” A sly glance at Balsa to gauge her reaction.<br />
<br />
This too was a painfully familiar thing. Torogai would point out the appeal of some young woman that she would suggest could capture Tanda’s eye, or mention marriage offers she had received on behalf of respectable women that might make a good match for him. It was always designed to make Balsa jealous, but Torogai never seemed to realize no matter what Balsa said or did, that the thought of Tanda finding another woman to marry only brought wistful hope. <br />
<br />
But this time... this time it was different.<br />
<br />
Unbeknownst to Balsa herself she scowled darkly, causing the ancient shamaness to gape in surprise at her. She thought back to how Tanda had acted around Sakae.<br />
<br />
When they had been introduced upon Balsa and Sakae reaching the hut, Tanda had indeed reacted rather clearly to Sakae’s beauty, not quite blushing but certainly wide-eyed and a touch bashful. He was exceedingly courteous and considerate towards her, and between his own invented tasks and those given him by Torogai, he had been showing her his skills and abilities at every opportunity.<br />
<br />
He had been unusually polite, even for Tanda, and the doe-eyed looks and insinuations towards Balsa were kept to a minimum. The longing and adoring looks were instead directed at Sakae, and even now, in finding a chore which would keep him away for a while, his actions followed a very familiar pattern. This was when Torogai would have attempted to convince Balsa of Tanda’s good qualities as a potential husband in the past, only this time Balsa was not the intended target.<br />
<br />
Smitten? It was more than that. Tanda wanted Sakae for his wife.<br />
<br />
One of Balsa’s hands had found her spear as Torogai’s words awoke a jealousy and anguish in her that she had never known before. She gripped it so hard her knuckles turned white.<br />
<br />
“She will make a good match for Tanda.” The old woman said shrewdly, her eyes not missing a thing in Balsa’s expression. “It is why my sister sent her here, of course. To see if a match could be arranged with my Tanda.”<br />
<br />
Balsa said nothing, nor did she move. She merely closed her eyes against the unexpected pain, it felt as if Torogai’s words had run Balsa’s own spear right through her heart, and she was powerless to stop her. She could not even breathe.<br />
<br />
“What?” So focused on Balsa’s reaction had Torogai been that she had not seen Sakae return while they were speaking. The young woman looked beyond shocked at the news. “That is why I am here?”<br />
<br />
“Ah, yes child.” Torogai said awkwardly, this was not a good way to tell her great-grandniece of the plans she and her sister had come up with, this was not at all the way it was meant to go. “My sister had concerns that there was no-one suited for you in your village, and we both thought that if you met, you and Tanda could come to take a liking to one another. He would make a good husband and a good father.”<br />
<br />
The shock was replaced by growing anger, hurt and betrayal. She turned wounded eyes on Balsa. “Did you know of this?”<br />
<br />
“No.” Balsa swore in a pained voice, barely more than a whisper. “I did not.”<br />
<br />
Dark eyes softened and warmed slightly at that, and Sakae nodded. Her expression hardened again as she turned back towards Torogai, but as she was about to speak the door opened. <br />
<br />
Tanda was smiling when he came in, his arms full of woven baskets filled to the brim in addition to the one slung across his back. The three sets of eyes that turned to him and the tension in the room was enough to instantly wipe the smile off his face and replace it with a worried frown. Quickly he closed the door behind him and, after look at Torogai, placed his burden on the floor next to it.<br />
<br />
Sakae stared at him for a long moment, making him fidget and pale, before finally dismissing him and focusing again on Torogai. <br />
<br />
“With all respect, Master Torogai, to you and my great-grandmother both, but that is still <i>my</i> decision.” Her voice hummed with restrained anger. “The reason there are no suitable men for me in my own village is that I am not interested in them.”<br />
<br />
“I will be no man’s wife.” A defiant glare towards the wide-eyed Tanda. “Not even if that man is your prized student, aunt.”<br />
<br />
With her words still ringing in the air, their meaning still sinking in, Sakae stalked over to where Balsa sat, cupped the startled warrior’s face in her hands, and kissed her.<br />
<br />
What Sakae lacked in experience she made up for with enthusiasm and intent. Balsa responded without conscious thought or consideration for their company, but before she knew it, it ended as suddenly as it had begun. Sakae stepped back and turned towards Torogai again.<br />
<br />
“I thank you for your hospitality.” She sounded very formal and polite, and strangely no longer so angry it made her voice rebound between the walls of the hut in its intensity. “But I believe it is best that I take my leave now.”<br />
<br />
With that she swiftly gathered up her belongings, which she had yet to unpack since arriving, and marched out the door.<br />
<br />
The silence in her wake was deafening.<br />
<br />
No-one spoke or stirred. Then, with a jarringly loud noise in the still room, Balsa’s travel pack landed at her feet.<br />
<br />
“Well?” Torogai demanded in a wry tone of voice. “Aren’t you going to go after her? Surely you’re not letting her go alone, this is wolf country you know.”<br />
<br />
Startled, Balsa looked up to see Torogai smile at her, something knowing in the ancient woman’s eyes that for some reason made Balsa blush. She nodded and quickly scooped up her spear and her belongings and headed for the door.<br />
<br />
Tanda turned away and would not look at her. Balsa kept her eyes averted from him as well as she passed him by the door.<br />
<br />
It hurt.<br />
<br />
Even after all these years of hurting over him or, if unintentionally on his part, being hurt by him, this managed to bring an all-new kind of pain. She had never meant to hurt his feelings, not before and not now, even if he never seemed to be as considerate to her feelings as she had tried to be to his. She had loved him once, loved the playmate and little brother she had in him, but the years had erased that little brother more and more until little remained. <br />
<br />
Perhaps now he would finally understand. Perhaps, in time, they would be able to build a new friendship, a true one this time, in the place where the complicated mess of self-told lies and expectations that were them had been. Balsa hoped so, but only time could tell.<br />
<br />
“Take good care of her.” Balsa heard Torogai say before the door closed behind her. At least Torogai was understanding, perhaps even a bit approving despite how things turned out. That meant a lot. The old woman meant a lot to Balsa.<br />
<br />
The slender figure walking back and forth next to the horses, however, already meant more than Balsa could say for all that they had known one another for such a short time. Just the sight of her now filled Balsa with something so rare as a glimmer of hope for the future.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p></p><p></p><p></p></span><br />Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-52748679529710459942012-01-25T13:13:00.001+01:002012-01-25T13:13:28.871+01:00Patching Her Up 7: SpinSTRIKE WITCHES-fanfic. When Trude gets injured it leads to some unexpected discoveries on Minna’s part.<br />
(Minna/Trude)<br />
<br />
<br />
This is the seventh installment in my series of short stories called "Patching Her Up".<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0163')"><br />
</a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0163')"><h4>Read Patching Her Up 7: Spin</h4></a><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0163"><br />
<br />
Disclaimer: All things Strike Witches belong to Gonzo and a bunch of others, though I’m sure I’m not hurting anything by borrowing them for a bit.<br />
<br />
My “Patching Her Up” series is just a series of short stories unrelated to one another, from different fandoms, that have a certain theme in common. Each part is a stand-alone.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Patching Her Up 7: Spin</strong></span> <br />
--------------------------------------------------------- <br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
When it had happened, Gertrud Barkhorn had not let the slightest wince or grunt escape her to reveal to those around her that something was wrong. The tall and stoic young woman had taken the blow, and the pain, with the same determination she applied to everything in her life. That the damage in question was not caused by the enemy, at least not directly, but by her younger comrades was doubly unfortunate, as it made her all the more reluctant to admit injury.<br />
<br />
At least she had saved Lynette from crashing, which, given that they had been high over land rather than ocean at the time, had most likely spared the girl serious injury or even her life.<br />
<br />
It wasn’t until they returned to base, another threat averted and another enemy downed by the 501st, that Minna realized something was amiss with her old friend. As the others made quick work of getting out of their Strikers to allow the mechanics care for their gear, Gertrud remained in hers. Dark eyes met Minna’s, and the twitch of expression that crossed them sent a message of alarm to the redhead.<br />
<br />
She had shooed everyone but Mio out of the hangar, attempting to not let her anxiety show, when Gertrud had quietly requested that Yoshika remain behind with them.<br />
<br />
Gertrud had been unable to get out of her Strikers on her own, and once they got them off her it was clear why. Her left leg was black and hung at an angle that made it quite clear that it was broken.<br />
<br />
Minna had for that initial moment been too horrified to do anything but stand there, with Gertrud’s arm slung across her shoulders and the taller girl’s weight resting on her, while Mio shouted for medical personnel. Young Yoshika had been quick to react, with a gasp she had hurried to apply her own massive, if not entirely fine-tuned, healing power to the damage. In no time Gertrud had been taken away to the medical wing to be worked on by doctors and witches with healing abilities.<br />
<br />
It was very fortunate that they had such good medical care, or an injury like Gertrud’s could have meant losing the use of the damaged leg. Instead she was healed up fairly expediently, with no long-term consequences, a gift not only to Gertrud and those that loved her, but to the world as well. Gertrud Barkhorn was, after all, one of the top ranking witches in active duty, her ability to take out the enemy bar none.<br />
<br />
Short term though Gertrud was grounded, only for two weeks but still something that did not sit well with the Karlsland soldier. Because her leg was weakened and wobbly – not to mention quite tender – for a time afterwards, she would be forced to wear a bracing bandage until her leg was stronger. The doctors calculated that with the work done and the overall natural strength, physical condition and healing rate Gertrud had, it would take at least two weeks until she was in fighting form again.<br />
<br />
Minna, knowing her friend’s stubbornness, thought it would take a week at most.<br />
<br />
She knew she would have to browbeat the other woman into allowing herself to heal, and that she didn’t dare leave Gertrud out of her sight lest the stubborn brunette would find a way to get to her Strikers and take to the skies. For that reason she remained vigilant, and kept a very close eye on Gertrud after the incident.<br />
<br />
Or at least that was what Minna told herself.<br />
<br />
------------------ <br />
<br />
Three days after the injury Minna and Trude were in Trude’s room, Minna there to help remove soaked bandages and reapply the brace as the other girl had been caught outside in the rain and not accepted help to get inside quickly.<br />
<br />
Brown eyes had watched Minna apprehensively as she had ushered Trude inside her room, helped her out of the wet clothes and into a fresh uniform. The look turned increasingly perturbed as Minna knelt on the floor beside the bed and took care of reapplying the splint and the bandages.<br />
<br />
Finally Trude could take no more silence. “Aren’t you going to yell at me? Just get it over with.”<br />
<br />
Privately Minna had been enjoying the cute pout that she didn’t get to see nearly enough of, and had thought Trude’s obvious worry had been punishment enough. “Hmm? Am I supposed to yell at you?”<br />
<br />
“Yes, well, I mean, aren’t you?” Trude sounded unsure, and continued in a subdued voice. “I rather expected you to want to hit me after what happened, so...” She trailed off, glancing at Minna as if to gauge her reaction.<br />
<br />
The amusement faded and gave way for regret, and perhaps a little hurt at the reaction. Yes, Minna regretted the one time she had slapped Trude if the brunette was going to fear that kind of behaviour from her from now on, but at the time Minna had been hysterical, nearly out of her mind with worry and fear. They could have lost Trude that day. <em>She</em> could have lost her... and Minna never wanted to lose a loved one again.<br />
<br />
“No, of course not.” Minna looked up at Gertrud and allowed her emotions to show in her eyes. “I would never hurt you deliberately, you must know that.” She sighed a bit mournfully. “What happened that day was...”<br />
<br />
Warm fingers brushing against her lips stopped her mid-sentence. Minna blinked and flushed in surprise.<br />
<br />
Yes... surprise. That the brief touch felt curiously electric had nothing to do with it.<br />
<br />
“I know.” Trude, leaning back after having succeeded in silencing Minna, looked as serious as ever. “Honestly, I do, and I deserved it then, needed it even. I just thought that maybe you felt what happened the other day was another display of...” She grimaced, displeased with herself. “reckless negligence, unbefitting a soldier of Karlsland.”<br />
<br />
“Oh Trude. As if you could ever do anything ‘unbefitting a soldier’.” The sigh this time was warm, affectionate, as was the little kiss Minna bestowed a bandaged knee with on an impulse. She wasn’t sure which one of them was the more stunned by the action, she herself or the suddenly deeply blushing young woman in front of her. She continued speaking, hoping Trude would let it go without asking anything. “You were heroic the other day, saving someone. It wasn’t the same thing at all, although yes you did scare and worry me then too.”<br />
<br />
“You should have told me you were injured, but you know that.” A pointed look. “And you should definitely take better care of yourself, not let your stubborn pride get in the way of healing.”<br />
<br />
Trude accepted the gentle rebuke with a slight nod. “I’m fine now, though. I don’t really need the brace.” <br />
<br />
“It takes more than a little bump to get rid of me.” She tried to joke to put Minna at ease. The smile vanished as she realized that the red eyes before her were gleaming with what looked like unshed tears.<br />
<br />
She panicked.<br />
<br />
“No, really! I’m fine!” Trude blurted out and scrambled to her feet, reaching down to awkwardly pull her old friend to her feet. “I was only unsteady at first, but now I’m fine.”<br />
<br />
It was the small sniff and the unconscious gesture, one that looked as if she meant to wipe at averted eyes with one delicate hand, that snapped Trude’s self-control. <br />
<br />
Suddenly she grabbed the other woman and scooped her up into her arms while leaping, hopping and spinning across the room. “See? I’m just fine.”<br />
<br />
Minna, having reacted with a startled yelp and then to throw her arms tightly around Trude’s neck, paid no attention to the room as it swirled by. Instead she stared in wonder at the face so close to her own.<br />
<br />
Trude was flitting around with Minna in her arms as if the redhead weighed next to nothing, yet it was clear that she was not using her abilities to augment her strength. As a soldier Minna’s training had of course increased her strength and stamina which in turn increased her weight, and to swing her around like this, in bridal style even, was quite the testament to Trude’s natural strength. <br />
<br />
Flushing with warmth Minna admired the perfect combination of solid, taut muscle and soft, feminine curves that was her old friend. She knew that Trude considered herself to be plain and bulky, but Minna had always thought her lovely, that the strong, chiselled planes of her face bore a kind of nobility that fit well with innate nobility and stoicism of who Trude was. <br />
<br />
Then of course there were those eyes. Those warm brown eyes that had a gentleness to them, that would reveal the at times fragile soul Minna considered herself to be one of the fortunate few to truly know.<br />
<br />
Minna realized that her heart was beating fast and that the strong surge of heat that washed over her, emanating it seemed from somewhere in her midsection, was something she was in fact familiar with. Feeling a bit breathless and quite sure she was blushing, she stared mesmerized at Trude.<br />
<br />
Was the room spinning or was she?<br />
<br />
So absorbed by watching Trude and the feelings the other girl awakened in her was Minna that she didn’t realize what she was doing until she felt Trude’s soft and slightly open lips against her own. All thoughts vanished and some deeply buried instinct took over. <br />
<br />
While Trude let out a muffled yelp of surprise and started flailing, Minna wrapped her arms tighter around Trude’s neck and deepened the kiss. She didn’t even notice when they stumbled around... and fell.<br />
<br />
The impact of teeth against teeth wasn’t painful, exactly, but it brought Minna back to her senses.<br />
<br />
She found herself draped over Trude, arms pinned underneath the other girl’s back as the two of them lay across the foot of Trude’s bed. Wide brown eyes stared up at her, stunned, and Minna realized with chagrin what she had done, and to whom.<br />
<br />
They stared at one another in silence for a long moment, blushing. Then finally Minna gasped and tried to move.<br />
<br />
“Your leg!” She tried to get up but was held in place not only by her own arms being pinned underneath them, but also by Trude’s embrace. “Oh Trude, does it hurt? Should I get a doctor?”<br />
<br />
Trude had to clear her throat a few times before she managed something other than an awkward croaking, but managed to shake her head clearly enough. “N-no, I didn’t hit it on anything, and it doesn’t hurt.” Her eyes darted to meet Minna’s and the away again. “I think I’m almost fully recovered, really.”<br />
<br />
Another silent moment, in which Minna tried to catch Trude’s gaze and Trude avoided her.<br />
<br />
“Are... you sure I’m not hurting you?” Minna asked quietly, allowing her body to relax against Trude’s. “You don’t want me to move?”<br />
<br />
The brunette blushed even darker. “N-no, you’re not hurting...” She trailed off, and suddenly an expression of regret and sadness floated past before being hidden by something a bit apologetic. “But you should probably get up, since you got the wrong soldier and all.”<br />
<br />
Trude’s arms disappeared from around Minna who missed them instantly. Carefully she eased one hand free from underneath them, to gently brush some hair out of wide and sorrowful brown eyes.<br />
<br />
“No.” She smiled affectionately down at the woman still pinned under her. “I got the right soldier at long last.” A light caress of a jawline that jumped slightly at the touch. “But that doesn’t mean that I have the right to... <em>throw</em> myself at her.”<br />
<br />
“Literally.” She added wryly, and waited.<br />
<br />
For a long moment Trude simply blinked at her without saying anything, but then finally a pair of hands came back up to hesitantly grasp Minnas waist.<br />
<br />
“The right one?” The quiet question was hopeful and perhaps just a slight bit needy.<br />
<br />
“Absolutely. The right one.” Minna assured with a smile, surprising even herself with how certain she was of this. Mere hours ago this would not have crossed her mind. Mere hours ago she hadn’t realized the true depth of her emotions where Trude was involved. “If that’s alright with you?”<br />
<br />
The nodding was shy but enthusiastic.<br />
<br />
“But Minna, aren’t you and...”<br />
<br />
“There is no-one else.” Minna cut in firmly and honestly. She didn’t want there to be any doubt. “There are only you... if you want to.”<br />
<br />
The reply came not in words, but in a sweet smile and such a loving expression in dark eyes that it was Minna’s turn to feel bashful. She wet her lips and caught the glance that immediately zeroed in on them.<br />
<br />
With a wicked little grin she leaned in as if to kiss Trude, slowly, only to veer off at the last moment and lean down to whisper into her ear. <br />
<br />
The words were in their native tongue, so rarely used at their base, and they were spoken so closely to Trude’s ear that Minna’s lips lightly brushed against it. They were not poetry, but honest and heartfelt, and spoken in such a sultry voice that they made Trude shiver and gasp in reaction.<br />
<br />
Finally Minna returned to Trude’s lips, and she kissed her.<br />
<br />
It was slow and poignant, but it was not the sweet and careful kiss of a young lover unsure of herself. It was the needy, hungry and deeply emotional kiss of a woman who had known love before, who had loved and lost and knew to cherish this second chance and waste nothing. While herself inexperienced in these matters, Trude was only too willing to follow Minna’s pace.<br />
<br />
--------------------- <br />
<br />
Gertrud Barkhorn would end up straining her almost-but-not-quite healed leg mysteriously, and was forced to endure two full weeks of recuperation while more or less immobile to not put any further strain on her leg. The recuperation came with its very own private nurse in Minna, who had taken the blame for Gertrud’s relapse but would not say how or why, which in the end might not have been the most restful of arrangements.<br />
<br />
She was eventually declared healthy, after an incident where Erica commented at length on their commanding officer’s fascinating and painfully obvious new hobby of bending over in various positions while in Gertrud’s line of sight, and of Gertrud’s even more blatantly obvious interest and appreciation of said new hobby. The whole thing ended in a chase over the entirety of the base, during which Gertrud proved herself to be fully fit... and the bandages did not survive the exercise.<br />
<br />
The private celebration that took place in Gertrud’s room that night was such that the following morning Minna would be confronted by several bleary-eyed members of the squadron, demanding in no uncertain terms that a shopping trip would be undertaken post-haste... and that earplugs would be bought.<br />
<br />
Lots and lots of earplugs.<br />
<br />
<br />
</span>Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-38529702355533904682012-01-20T13:10:00.002+01:002012-01-20T13:10:53.091+01:00Patching Her Up 6: DatingSTAR TREK VOYAGER-fanfic. Seven and B'Elanna have a little chat about dating.<br />
(Seven/B'Elanna)<br />
<br />
<br />
This is the sixth installment in my series of short stories called "Patching Her Up".<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0162')"><br />
</a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0162')"></a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0162')"><h4>Read Patching Her Up 6: Dating</h4></a><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0162"><br />
<br />
Disclaimer: All things Star Trek Voyager belongs to... err... actually I don’t know anymore, just that they don’t belong to me, but that I can dream. <br />
<br />
My “Patching Her Up” series is just a series of short stories unrelated to one another, from different fandoms, that have a certain theme in common. Each part is a stand-alone.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Patching Her Up 6: Dating</strong></span> <br />
--------------------------------------------------------------- <br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Sometimes, B’Elanna mused, you had to wonder at the brilliance of Voyager’s commanding officers, when they sent the ship’s Doc and number one nurse off on an away-mission together. Certainly, Sam Wildman was more than capable of performing any nursing duties Tom would have – in B’Elanna’s opinion far better, too – but as the woman in question had not been cleared of her duties in the bio-sciences to instead keep station at Sickbay, the beleaguered Ensign had her hands full trying to juggle the two. And as such she hadn’t been there when B’Elanna came in, of course.<br />
<br />
Not a problem, B’Elanna was handy with a dermal regenerator and was fairly certain she wouldn’t kill herself from injecting too much or the wrong thing with a hypospray, she was pretty sturdy after all, and didn’t want to harass the woman. Heaven knew Sam might even want to take a moment to see her kid while the girl was still awake, or something.<br />
<br />
She had not, however, counted on Seven coming in while B’Elanna was juggling medical equipment on her own. One disapproving tilt of a gleaming Borg brow, and B’Elanna soon found herself sitting there obediently while Seven proved to be quite apt at the technical aspects of nursing.<br />
<br />
B’Elanna was not surprised at Seven’s skill, in fact there was precious few jobs onboard that she would think Seven could not perform if she had to, and the ones she couldn’t... were the kind you couldn’t learn about from a database.<br />
<br />
“Seven?” B’Elanna asked after a while, studying the face before her and feeling concerned at what she saw. “Hey, Seven?”<br />
<br />
Slender hands stilled their movements and a pair of intense eyes met B’Elanna’s own. B’Elanna’s own eyes widened a little and she tried not to squirm.<br />
<br />
“What’s wrong?” Simple and to the point, but she could see the question forming even before Seven began to speak, so she continued. “I can see that something is wrong, Seven. You’re frowning.”<br />
<br />
She cursed a sudden lack of impulse control as she found herself reaching out to poke gently at the furrow in question. By her expression Seven was as surprised as B’Elanna felt embarrassed by herself, but she covered it up quickly and smiled encouragingly at the blonde.<br />
<br />
“I might not be your first choice to talk to about it, or, you know, even <em>on </em>the list of people you would consider talking to about it, but humour me? What is wrong, and can I do something to help?”<br />
<br />
The frown deepened a bit before the blonde eventually nodded slightly. The eyes turned even more intense, and as they met her own B’Elanna felt slightly dizzy. “You have injured yourself.”<br />
<br />
“Um, yes?” B’Elanna felt confused. “Not deliberately though, if that’s what you’re thinking.”<br />
<br />
Strangely enough Seven seemed to look at B’Elanna as if she was trying to gauge whether to believe her or not. B’Elanna wasn’t sure if she should feel insulted, or... something else. While she wondered, the ‘something else’ won out.<br />
<br />
“Are you certain it was not due to Ensign Paris’ claim that he has...” Uncharacteristically, Seven faltered. B’Elanna marvelled at this, perhaps Janeway was slowly managing to teach her a thing or two about tact after all. <br />
<br />
Personally she thought it would be a pity, though she hadn’t always appreciated Seven’s straightforwardness in the past. “Tom said he left me, huh?”<br />
<br />
A split second of hesitation, followed by a deepening frown. “Yes. Is this inaccurate?”<br />
<br />
“Well, yes and no. Technically I was trying to be mature about breaking it off with him when he turned around and decided he would rather be the one breaking up than the one broken up with. It was about as asinine and childish as one could have expected.” B’Elanna smiled a bit sheepishly, she wasn’t upset at the parting nor was she surprised that Tom would have told people that he broke up with her. People thought what they wanted anyway. But still, she had tried to keep things civil, had wanted them both to act like grownups.<br />
<br />
“I see.” Seven nodded, her eyes turning thoughtful. “I suspected that his statements were... inaccurate.”<br />
<br />
Although she wondered idly just what Tom might have said about her in that case, B’Elanna mostly just found herself amused by Seven’s reaction. It seemed so... adorable. “Oh? Why is that?”<br />
<br />
“His claims were absurd, and not like you. Also it would be both illogical and unlikely that he would willingly let you go. You are by far the superior mate, and Ensign Paris must surely have been aware that he could never have... deserved you.”<br />
<br />
B’Elanna blinked, and felt her cheeks burn. Talk about surreal. “Um, wow, thanks Seven. That was so many compliments in one go that I don’t know what to say.”<br />
<br />
Seven’s version of a shrug faced her. “I was merely stating the facts.”<br />
<br />
She could not have stopped the smile that stretched across her face if she tried, but she didn’t really want to. B’Elanna looked away for a moment, feeling a bit more bashful than she had in a very long time. The warmth that bloomed in her chest was unbelievable. Wow indeed.<br />
<br />
As she looked back up she wondered if Seven could see the affection in her eyes, or know what it meant. “And you were worried about me? That I might be upset enough to try to hurt myself?”<br />
<br />
“Yes.” A small but more tentative nod. “But these injuries are not...”<br />
<br />
“Self-inflicted?” B’Elanna finished for Seven, still smiling warmly. “No, or at least not really. I’ve been... distracted lately, and ended up a bit too clumsy at the wrong moment because of it, that’s all.”<br />
<br />
“Distracted?” The frown, which had eased away after B’Elanna’s explanations, returned along with a renewed intensity of gaze. “What would distract you to the point of causing you injury?”<br />
<br />
Oh gee, a pair of beautiful blue eyes, maybe? They had certainly been showing up in her thoughts a lot lately, and at very awkward times, too.<br />
<br />
“It’s nothing bad, honest.” B’Elanna assured, trying to ignore her embarrassment. “I’ve been working out how I feel about someone, and it has kept me a bit preoccupied.”<br />
<br />
“Not Ensign Paris?” Apparently relieved enough of her concerns Seven returned to B’Elanna’s injuries, but she still looked at her attentively, reassuring B’Elanna that Seven was still interested and listening.<br />
<br />
“No, not Tom. That is over and done with, and has been for quite some time.” She admitted, and admired those long, Borg-adorned fingers when Seven carefully nudged B’Elanna’s arm a bit to the side. “It is someone else.”<br />
<br />
She knew that the little tilt of the head was all the reply she was going to get from Seven to that comment, Seven would not have the urge to gossip and ask just who it was B’Elanna had on her mind. She thought it was cute, but then again it seemed almost anything about the woman was just adorable to B’Elanna these days. It was remarkable, really, that it took so long for her to figure it out.<br />
<br />
“What about you, Seven?” She began carefully, trying for a friendly but casual air. “Have you considered dating again?”<br />
<br />
Surprisingly enough Seven straightened up and looked at B’Elanna with darkening eyes that had gone quite narrow. “If this is about Ensign Paris, my previous reply stands. I am not interested.”<br />
<br />
Ah, of course. Tom had wasted no time in trying to woo the most beautiful, and perhaps the most unattainable, woman on the ship. That made sense.<br />
<br />
But Seven had turned him down, and with the expression the tall woman wore at the moment, in no uncertain terms too. B’Elanna fought the urge to giggle. “No, I’m not talking about Tom, but good for you if you turned him down. You’re smarter than I was.”<br />
<br />
She could see the urge to protest as the expression in Seven’s eyes turned a bit confused and awkward, and found it charming. “I meant in general, Seven. Have you thought about whether you would like to try dating again if you met the right person, or if there is anyone onboard that you might like to try it with?”<br />
<br />
“I...” Seven hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. For a moment B’Elanna regretted bringing it up. “I have not. Ensign Paris’ recent availability changes nothing. The parameters based on the Doctor’s criteria are quite...”<br />
<br />
“Wait, what?” B’Elanna interrupted, frowning. “The <em>Doctor’s </em>criteria? Shouldn’t that be <em>your</em> criteria, Seven?”<br />
<br />
“As I am... still largely unfamiliar with the process, the Doctor has been kind enough to lend me his aid in the selection process. While we have very briefly touched on the characteristics of courtship in various species, this information has been too light and too broad to be of any aid, and so the Doctor devised a basic general form suitable for the average human female, which I have customized somewhat. A list of parameters based solely on criteria devised by myself would be...” A slight grimace crossed Seven’s features. “very brief, and not very illuminating.”<br />
<br />
B’Elanna blinked. “Oh... wow.” She scratched her cheek a little, trying to think of a good way to say this. “I, uh, may not be anyone’s idea of an expert on dating, Seven, though I can at least assure you I have more experience than the Doc has. And I see several things wrong with what you just said already.”<br />
<br />
“How so?” Briefly checking so that no further injuries required attending, Seven lay the instruments aside to stand in perfect attention before B’Elanna, head tilted in what was a sure sign of interest on her part.<br />
<br />
“Well, uh, for one thing there’s no such thing as ‘basic’ criteria, we all have our own preferences and our own wants, and these can change a lot over time as it is. Plus, you know, it isn’t at all uncommon to fall for someone who doesn’t meet those preferences or wants in the slightest.” How did she end up giving life advice to strangely innocent but frightfully intelligent former Borg women, again? Oh yeah, an impulse decision to gauge just how unrequited her feelings for the woman really were, that’s right. Good job there.<br />
<br />
“For another, Seven, even if there were such a thing as a basic list for average human females... you’re not exactly average, nor entirely human. Being a half-breed myself I assure you I’m not saying that to be hurtful, it is just the truth.”<br />
<br />
Seven nodded. “Yes, of course. Captain Janeway and the Doctor’s assurances to the contrary, I do not see myself as a human, at least not entirely. I am still and always shall be in many ways Borg, although I am no drone.”<br />
<br />
B’Elanna smiled a little and nodded, relieved that Seven had such a clear sense of self. From personal experience it was when one tried to embrace one side of one’s heritage and completely ignore the other that the problems began, and she’d rather Seven didn’t have to go through years of struggles before coming to that conclusion the way B’Elanna had.<br />
<br />
“Look, Seven, let’s just ignore the Doctor’s list and teachings for now, because I don’t think he is the right person to listen to in this instance. Maybe you could talk to the Captain? If she can get over the embarrassment she’ll undoubtedly feel and take the time to sit down with you to talk about it, you’ll probably learn a lot more than the Doc can teach you.”<br />
<br />
“Mostly though, when you finally feel like you are ready to try dating someone, it should be all about your own preferences, no-one else’s. Like... do you like this person, do you want to spend time with him, do you find yourself thinking of him when he’s not around... does being around him make you feel happy, or, no let’s go with happy for now, things like that.” B’Elanna grimaced. “There’s the physical things as well, like do you want to kiss this someone, and so on, but I think I’ll leave that for Janeway.” <br />
<br />
“The bottom line is that you should feel like you want to date a certain someone, not find someone to date because you should try dating itself.” She paused briefly. “Does that make any kind of sense, or did I just confuse you further?”<br />
<br />
Seven nodded, clearly deep in thought. “I see. Your suggestions are quite different from the Doctor’s, and I shall have to consider this to see how I could apply them. Perhaps I will attempt to bring the subject up with the Captain as well.” She refocused her attention on B’Elanna. “However, as I find myself reluctant to repeat the failure of my dating and indeed have neither the skill nor the interest for it, my inquiries are merely for the sake of understanding, and not for practice.”<br />
<br />
“You don’t want to date, got it. But why ‘failure’ and ‘skill’? Those shouldn’t be factors in dating, well, not really anyway.” At least not in any way that Seven might currently interpret it, B’Elanna told herself.<br />
<br />
“As I am sure you are aware, my one attempt at dating did not go well.” Seven sighed, and while B’Elanna had to silently agree, in a way she had been impressed that Seven had managed to land her date in Sickbay on the first try. “I cannot dance, have no interest in telling a male that he is beautiful when I do not think so, and I do not enjoy attempting to ingest strange food which does not suit my constitution in a setting with a multitude of onlookers and high noise levels.” Blue eyes made B’Elanna gulp with their intensity. “I also find nothing pleasurable about replicated dead flora.”<br />
<br />
So, no flowers and no fancy restaurant dinners or public dancing, check. Actually, that sounded rather nice, like maybe Seven would appreciate a quiet dinner for two at home instead.<br />
<br />
“So you do something else for a date, something you could both enjoy. Dates aren’t limited to public dinners and dancing, Seven. And not every woman likes flowers.” She winked at Seven even though she didn’t mind flowers on occasion herself. She did rather prefer chocolate, anyway. “If you don’t find a guy attractive in some way I don’t think you should be dating him, but if you for some reason do anyway, you’re in no way required to tell him that he is... erm... beautiful. Is there no-one onboard Voyager that you think qualify as beautiful or just attractive in some way though, male <em>or</em> female?”<br />
<br />
Stunned and wide blue eyes looked back at B’Elanna.<br />
<br />
“Females...” Seven’s voice was quiet, hesitant. “...are an option?”<br />
<br />
“Oh.” And so it was B’Elanna’s turn to be stunned. “Um, yes? Of course? We’re not living in the dark ages, you can be interested in whomever you want, gender, species and whatnot aside. I think basically only children or close blood relations are considered taboo in the Federation, though a lot of people would say getting involved with someone who is married is too.” She frowned. “What exactly has the Doc been teaching you?”<br />
<br />
Seven did not answer, and looking a bit closer B’Elanna could practically see the thoughts and emotions churn behind blue eyes. Alarmed she wondered if she hadn’t just done Seven a huge disservice... perhaps B’Elanna should just have kept her big mouth shut.<br />
<br />
“Erm, Seven?” She began gently, reaching out to touch a blue arm. “A-are you okay?”<br />
<br />
For a long moment there was silence, then... B’Elanna could practically see the very moment when Seven’s thoughts crystallized and snapped into place, a conclusion reached.<br />
<br />
“You.”<br />
<br />
“What?” B’Elanna felt she had missed a step somewhere, or some part of the conversation. “Me? What about me?”<br />
<br />
“If indeed it is permissible to consider an individual of the same gender, then the one person onboard Voyager that I find beautiful and attractive in many ways is... you, Lieutenant.”<br />
<br />
B’Elanna realized that she was gaping, and it felt like her eyes were about to fall out of their sockets, but she could do little about it. Her head was spinning far too much as it was. “Me? Really?”<br />
<br />
“I believe I have said so before, Lieutenant. You are superior in every conceivable way. So yes, I do find you beautiful and attractive.”<br />
<br />
“Kahless!” B’Elanna gasped and blinked at the blonde. Was this really happening? Reflexively she blurted out the first thing she could think of. “I think you’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen, and I’m so attracted to you I haven’t been able to think straight for days.”<br />
<br />
She had never seen Seven blush before, and she found the sight, oh yes indeed, beyond adorable.<br />
<br />
“Is... that so?” The hesitantly hopeful question was asked with what passed as shyness for Seven, complete with briefly downcast eyes. <br />
<br />
“Yes, it sure is.” B’Elanna assured warmly, gently taking Seven’s hand in hers. “It’s the truth, but I wouldn’t blame you if you don’t believe me right away. Maybe, if you feel like giving me the chance to, I can prove it to you in time.”<br />
<br />
Seven eyed their joined hands and, after a moment’s awkwardness, turned hers to grasp B’Elanna back. “Your injuries, they were because of me?”<br />
<br />
“Mm, from being distracted by thinking about you, yeah.” She grinned, feeling a bit foolish to admit it. She was rewarded however by a small smile on Seven’s lips.<br />
<br />
That warm and dizzy feeling was back, and with a vengeance.<br />
<br />
“So, uh, Seven? If you were to feel someday that you would like to try to date again, would you tell me? I promise I would not make you do things you don’t want to or feel comfortable with, or make you eat things you don’t want to try.” B’Elanna smiled self-consciously. “I even promise not to give you any dead flowers.”<br />
<br />
Seven looked at her, considering. “Would there be crowds, real or holographic?”<br />
<br />
“No, not unless you decided you wanted there to be. I’d rather be alone with you anyway.”<br />
<br />
Seven nodded, the tiny smile widening.<br />
<br />
“Tomorrow?” She finally asked. “Would tomorrow be acceptable?”<br />
<br />
“To-tomorrow?” B’Elanna nodded a bit too enthusiastically. “Yes! I mean, yes, tomorrow would be great.”<br />
<br />
“Good.” Seven squeezed B’Elanna’s hand slightly before letting go and taking a step back. “Tonight I shall have to have a conversation with Captain Janeway. I need her advice.”<br />
<br />
With that Seven walked out of Sickbay at her usual brisk pace, although she slowed briefly by the exit and looked at B’Elanna over her shoulder. Then she was gone.<br />
<br />
B’Elanna exhaled explosively, running a slightly unsteady hand through her hair. “Wow. Just... <em>wow</em>.” She muttered to herself under her breath.<br />
<br />
“I’ll contact you with the details later then, gorgeous,” She told the air in the direction of the door fondly. “so we can agree on when and where to meet.” Seven might still hear her, but even if she didn’t that was fine too.<br />
<br />
She grinned at the ceiling, feeling lighter and more energized than she had in a very long time. In fact B’Elanna was downright happy.<br />
<br />
“Someday...” She told Voyager’s bulkheads in a low, conspiratorial voice. “I’ll get that woman to call me by my name.”<br />
<br />
<br />
</span>Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4438015920217043499.post-42844280297976858662012-01-19T07:14:00.001+01:002012-01-19T07:14:44.694+01:00Patching Her Up 5: Beginning<br />
NOIR-fanfic. The end has come and gone, and the girls have some things to talk about.<br />
(Mireille/Kirika)<br />
<br />
<br />
And so we return to our regularly scheduled series. XD<br />
This is the fifth installment in my series of short stories called "Patching Her Up".<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0161')"><br />
</a><br />
<a href="javascript:expandcollapse('subtopic0161')"><h4>Read Patching Her Up 5: Beginning</h4></a><br />
<span class="posthidden" id="subtopic0161"><br />
<br />
Disclaimer: All things Noir belong to Bee Train and probably others, perhaps even to Raimi/Tapert by now, but at any rate I’m just borrowing. <br />
<br />
My “Patching Her Up” series is just a series of short stories unrelated to one another, from different fandoms, that have a certain theme in common. Each part is a stand-alone.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Patching Her Up 5: Beginning</strong></span> <br />
--------------------------------------------------------------- <br />
by Carola “Ryûchan” Eriksson<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
The room was small and sparsely furnished, not that anything more than the bed, a small table with two chairs and tiny, well-worn settee for two would have fit in there, but it was safe enough and had its own tiny bathroom. A far cry from their spacious Parisian studio loft it might have been, but it was good enough for now. If an emergency arose they could even, albeit with difficulty, access the roof through the window in front, not that Mireille expected trouble.<br />
<br />
They weren’t even in Mireille’s beloved Paris now, but rather the first city they’d reached where there presence wouldn’t stick out of the crowd. Soldats probably knew where they were anyway, and for that reason the small space was packed with hidden weapons by now, yet after the events at the Manor... Soldats had not attempted to contact them. Not yet anyway.<br />
<br />
It was time to heal wounds and gather strength.<br />
<br />
The old apartment was lost to them, in fact there was precious little left of it. Mireille had, in that dark place she had been after losing her partner, remained there for a while, sleeping in the ruined shards of their bed, sitting at the broken table, and staring out the gaping holes that had once been windows. She hadn’t noticed the cold or the dark, overwhelmed as she was with the despair within.<br />
<br />
There was nothing to go back to there. They had nothing in the way of personal belongings worth collecting, even if anything had managed to survive the onslaught. They would have to start anew someplace else, and thankfully had the funds to do so.<br />
<br />
The important part was that they had each other.<br />
<br />
Not even the watch, Mireille’s father’s watch, had meant a thing in the end, not compared to Kirika. Whatever she might have said, Mireille had known it the very moment she shook off the despair and set out towards the Manor, that she was going there to get her partner back. To get her Kirika back.<br />
<br />
Nothing else mattered, not even vengeance.<br />
<br />
The first-aid kit Mireille had stocked her car with before setting out had been used up patching mainly Kirika, but also Mireille herself, up enough that they didn’t simply bleed out on the road. As it were the seats of the car were ruined, and Mireille traded it in for a proper if shady treatment of Kirika’s wounds. They had another one by now, a shabby and easily overlooked one that would still last them across the country and then some if they needed it to.<br />
<br />
So far though things had been quiet. The proprietor of the run-down hotel where Mireille and Kirika rented their tiny room was friendly and accommodating enough, and though she had been on careful lookout Mireille had yet to spot anyone spying on them on Soldats behalf. That of course didn’t mean that Soldats didn’t know where they were, only that they would leave them be for now.<br />
<br />
Most likely Soldats had bigger problems right now than the famed Noir. The Manor had gone down in flames, taking Althena and the other leaders of her insane pseudo-religious phalange with it, and when Mireille and Kirika had left... ironically the remaining highest leaders of Soldats had turned on one another, and only one remained standing that either of them knew of. The man which had attempted to make a deal with Mireille.<br />
<br />
Likely there were all sorts of struggles for power going on, and whatever factions there might be, none of them would have enough manpower to waste, should they even have the ambition to, by sending them after Noir. Unless Kirika and Mireille made a move against them, they would have little reason to.<br />
<br />
So that was why it was time to rest up and heal, finally. Perhaps also make up some plans for their future.<br />
<br />
The past, individual and shared, had been... <em>delicately</em> discussed.<br />
<br />
The pain Mireille carried over the murder of her parents would not be so easily or quickly put behind her, but she understood at last that while Kirika’s hands might have been the ones holding the gun, the one that killed them had been Althena. She accepted and forgave Kirika, just as she acknowledged Kirika’s own pain and loss.<br />
<br />
Sometimes Mireille wondered if Althena had personally seen to the assassination of Kirika’s parents, hoping that at least Kirika herself had not been made part of that act but afraid to ask and stir up even more pain. Kirika herself seemed not to have any memory of her parents, but her memories of her early years were fragmented at best.<br />
<br />
Eventually though their conversation turned to Kirika’s days at the Manor, and to Chloe.<br />
<br />
--------------------------- <br />
<br />
“You <em>kissed</em> her?” After days of calm, this sudden explosion of Mireille’s temper seemed all the more loud, Mireille’s anger all the more intense. “You kissed <em>her</em>!”<br />
<br />
Kirika blinked, as if she couldn’t quite understand why Mireille was angry. A small part of Mireille was aghast at herself for reacting this way, but powerless to stop it. <br />
<br />
“No...” Kirika tilted her head as she explained. “Chloe kissed me. I did not...” She frowned a little as she tried to find a word that would fit. “...participate.”<br />
<br />
“So you <em>let</em> her kiss you.” Mireille demanded. “Is that supposed to be any better? What else did she do?”<br />
<br />
Taking a moment to order her thoughts, Kirika proceeded to tell Mireille about most of what had transpired at the Mansion. She told her about walking around the ruins with Chloe, of sparring with the taller girl, and of how Chloe had been hiding outside Kirika’s bedroom window at night.<br />
<br />
She told Mireille of reading the book, and how she nearly shot Althena. She told her of the times she had bathed together with Chloe, and how Althena had sent the two of them off to cleanse and prepare for the ritual, which was how Chloe had come to kiss Kirika.<br />
<br />
Mireille’s face had taken on a strangely red hue by the time Kirika got to that part.<br />
<br />
“Naked? You let her kiss you, and hold you, while <em>naked</em>?” Unexpectedly she let out a strangled and frustrated cry. “And that, that... woman! ‘To strengthen your bond’...” Mireille growled. “She wanted you to sleep together!”<br />
<br />
Kirika shook her head. “No, Chloe had her own bedroom at the Manor. I saw it.”<br />
<br />
Staring hard at the younger woman sitting on the edge of their bed, looking completely sweet and innocent as ever, Mireille realized that she had to calm down. She was letting herself act insane with jealousy, and while it didn’t seem to frighten her, Kirika had not really deserved to be treated like this. The situation then had been different, and <em>Kirika</em> had been different.<br />
<br />
In the end, her choice had been made abundantly clear. In the end, they had all said their vows of love in actions rather than words.<br />
<br />
She by arriving there, not for the revenge she had lived for but to take back the one she loved. Kirika by the choice she made in the end, no matter how hard or heart-rending, when she had sacrificed someone she considered the other part of herself to save Mireille. And Chloe... Mireille had always known about Chloe, she had thought the girl wore her love for Kirika on her sleeve, but that moment on the battleground... the expression in Chloe’s eyes, her scream when she realized that Kirika was saying without words that Mireille was the one she really loved... it had stunned Mireille.<br />
<br />
There was no point in being angry at Chloe anymore. The girl had received a dark and cruel fate she did not deserve, anymore than any of them, and Mireille should pity her. Maybe someday she would even actually be able to. But for now it was enough to know that Chloe was dead.<br />
<br />
And Kirika was hers.<br />
<br />
Not that they had in any way acted on it or even said so, it was entirely possible that Kirika was innocent enough not to realize what had really happened, what the Noir ritual really was. Two of the deadliest women in the world, fighting to the death... for the love of the third.<br />
<br />
Her and Chloe, for Kirika’s love.<br />
<br />
Not that Mireille harboured any illusions that she could actually have beaten Chloe on her own. She was skilled, one of the best perhaps, but she wasn’t in Chloe and Kirika’s league. No-one was.<br />
<br />
But be that as it may, Chloe was gone and Mireille was the one that was here, right now, with Kirika. The one that was going to build a life and a future with Kirika.<br />
<br />
She rubbed her face with one hand, briskly, as if to chase away old ghosts and thoughts. Then she glanced at Kirika and smirked. The brunette looked back questioningly, looking as if she was about to speak. She didn’t get the chance to.<br />
<br />
Mireille pounced, pushing the other girl down on the bed that was just wide enough to fit them both with a bit of effort and no more, and pinned her down. Kirika made a startled little sound but did not object.<br />
<br />
And then Mireille kissed her.<br />
<br />
Despite the somewhat aggressive approach, the kiss itself was gentle, tender. It spoke of Mireille’s longing and her desperate need for Kirika in her life, by her side. It was their first, it was sweet, and it was brief.<br />
<br />
Before Kirika had the chance to at all react it was over, Mireille withdrew to rest their heads together so that her lips were next to Kirika’s ear, without Kirika being able to see Mireille’s face.<br />
<br />
“You are mine.” Mireille’s voice was deeper in pitch and soft as velvet, a touch possessive and dangerous but mostly suggestive of things that made Kirika shiver involuntarily. “You... are... <em>mine</em>.”<br />
<br />
“I won’t share you, with anything or anyone. Remember that.”<br />
<br />
From the heat where the side of Mireille’s face rested against her own Kirika could tell that the blonde was blushing as she spoke. Slowly, small hands reached up to embrace the body perched carefully over her own.<br />
<br />
“And just so you know, I am yours and only yours.”<br />
<br />
They remained still like that, simply breathing together, for a long moment.<br />
<br />
“You know I have said it before, that you and I were always bound together by Fate’s thread. A black thread for certain, but Fate’s thread nonetheless.” Mireille leaned her face into Kirika’s slightly, turning the touch into a kind of caress. “I don’t know if you can understand it right now, but that ceremony, the fires of the ritual of Noir...”<br />
<br />
“It married us. We are the heart of darkness, together. The two maidens of death that are one.” <br />
<br />
She closed her eyes and breathed Kirika in. “Not because of the words of an ancient book or the machinations of a madwoman, but because of <em>us</em>. Because of what we are and what we became for one another. And for all that we are willing to do for each other.”<br />
<br />
“I don’t ask that you understand it yet, if you need time you can have all you want. But I ask that you are aware of it, of what you are to me.” There was a touch of desperation in Mireille’s voice as she leaned back to look into Kirika’s eyes. “Is that alright with you?”<br />
<br />
Her reply was a pair of delicate hands that reached up, cupped her face, and pulled her down for a kiss.<br />
<br />
Kirika was an inexperienced kisser, having been kissed twice but not responded to either, and somewhat hesitant at what to do at first. But the emotion was genuine, and after the first initial moment of shock and marvel, Mireille was only too happy to give it her best as well. Kirika’s hands wound up in Mireille’s hair, and the kiss grew enthusiastic and animated.<br />
<br />
They remained like that for as long as Mireille, propped up with her weight on her arms as she was, dared to. Once she feared she would topple over and risk putting weight on Kirika she drew back, gasping for air.<br />
<br />
All that could be heard was their laboured breathing as they looked at one another for a long moment. Then Mireille, smiling, leaned their foreheads together and gently brushed a hand over Kirika’s bandages.<br />
<br />
“We’d better get up. I have to change these for you.”<br />
<br />
“I feel fine.” Kirika’s protest was as softly spoken as ever, but her voice had a slightly breathy quality to it that made Mireille’s heart beat harder.<br />
<br />
“And to keep you ‘fine’, I have to change it for you.” She grinned at the adorably recalcitrant girl as she sat up. “You know that.”<br />
<br />
With gentle hands Mireille changed Kirika’s bandages, relieved beyond words to find that her earlier actions had not caused any bleeding. Thankfully it seemed that they both possessed remarkable healing abilities, and of course as nearly life-long assassins they were resistant, or perhaps just very intimately familiar with, pain. It would not restrict or cripple them the way it would other people, but even so Mireille had to be careful with Kirika for a while. No roughhousing until Kirika was back to full strength.<br />
<br />
The thought heated Mireille’s cheeks as she finished re-bandaging Kirika and helped the younger girl get ready for bed. It was a bit early still, but the emotional outpouring had been tiring, and they could both need all the rest they could get.<br />
<br />
As Mireille double-checked her safeguards and turned off the lights she heard the cute little ‘yoisho’ sound Kirika made as she got into bed and crawled over towards the wall. Mireille quickly got herself ready for bed as well, and joined her partner.<br />
<br />
Instead of positioning themselves back to back as they usually did, Mireille lay down and carefully urged Kirika into a comfortable position half draped over her. It was something she had longed to do for nearly as long as Kirika had shared her bed, and some nights of late Mireille had awakened to find herself spooning the younger girl in her sleep. Now though she could wrap her arms around Kirika like she had always wanted to, and feel the other girl come to rest on her shoulder with a contented sigh. <br />
<br />
Placing a loving kiss into baby soft brown hair Mireille tucked the blanket a little higher on her lover. She closed her eyes and basked in the tranquillity of the moment.<br />
<br />
Their breathing evened out, and sleep beckoned. <br />
<br />
Then, in a whisper...<br />
<br />
“Kirika? What do you think about getting another apartment in Paris?”<br />
<br />
<br />
</span>Ryûchanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15998742466572025720noreply@blogger.com2