Gunships That Pass In The Night
Tue, 09/27/2005 - 05:00 — Daiseechain
Stealthily, the lithe alien crept down the quarry, her crepe soled, Cuban heeled boots keeping her approach quiet. Her prey was very close now, perhaps too close. She stood back a bit so that their noses were no longer touching.
"May you die alone and silent!" she hissed at him using only her telepathic powers, the result of an upbringing on Auron, which she had recently departed in order to bring chaos to the enemy.
Her adversary looked haughtily at her, but said nothing.
"I said, May you die alone and silent!" she hissed much more venomously, as he had obviously not gotten the message.
He continued to stare blankly at her.
She stared back moodily, her green eyes alive with fury.
"Can I help you?" asked her leather-clad nemesis, surprisingly nonchalantly for someone on the wrong end of the gun. But then, she reflected, this may have been because he also had a gun, and he was on the correct end of that one.
"Bugger." She thought somewhat sulkily.
"Do you want something?" He asked hypothetically.
This time she spoke aloud. "For the last time, I said May you die alone and silent!" She jabbed her gun toward him to emphasise the point.
"Well now, I'm certain I heard nothing of the sort." He said infuriatingly.
"I said it telepathically!"
"Ah, well. I'm not telepathic myself you see, which probably explains my failure to hear you." He said reasonably.
"Oh."
They stood for a while, guns still pointed at each other, not saying anything. Considering they had only just met, and not under the best of circumstances, the silence was quite companionable.
Presently, she became aware of another presence.
"What is that?" she asked incredulously.
"Don't mind him. Vila's only mildly toxic, and not at all if you take precautions."
"I assume you are referring to a colleague. I was speaking of the ship which has materialised behind you."
He spun round.
Her opponent's wrist beeped, and he lifted his arm to speak into an ornate plastic band. Strange. She had not previously had the impression that he was effeminate.
"Jenna. What the hell are you doing?" he asked imperiously.
A female voice replied. "You've been gone such a long time Avon. I was beginning to get lonely."
"Then go call on Blake. I'm busy." He said exasperatedly.
"I can see that." Replied the disembodied voice. "You're not busy with me though, are you?"
Cally looked skyward, and feigned an interest in cloud formations. This was none of her affair, despite the other female's suspicions. Although, she did admit, he looked quite good in that suit. Very few men could pull off a red leather pin tucked puff sleeved ensemble. Definitely gay, she decided.
He turned back to her. "Look," he said awkwardly, "I know this is a bit sudden, but we're taking off in a bit, after we've... um... taken care of some business, and I wondered if you'd like to come with?"
"With you?"
"No." He said irritatedly. "With Vila. That was sarcasm by the way."
"Yes. I caught that."
"Oh. Well, nobody else round here seems to. So how about it? Adventure? Excitement? Really wild things?" He asked eagerly.
Cally privately thought that she had quite a lot of those things here already, what with being the sole survivor of the rebellion, and on the most wanted list and what not, but on the other hand, how bad could it be? A ride off this rock, and a shower, in exchange for slightly toxic companions, and this guy wouldn't bother her, because he was so totally gay.
"Ok then." She said sheathing her gun. "Take me to your leader."
He blinked in startlement. "What?"
"She shrugged. "I always wanted to say that. Let's go then."
And so the beautiful rebel and the weedy programmer headed toward the ship and, alien possessions notwithstanding, the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
Part of the Autumn 2005 season Badfic Collection. Absolutely Faaabulous Dahlings!
Rating |
G
|
Spoilers |
None
|
Stealthily, the lithe alien crept down the quarry, her crepe soled, Cuban heeled boots keeping her approach quiet. Her prey was very close now, perhaps too close. She stood back a bit so that their noses were no longer touching.
"May you die alone and silent!" she hissed at him using only her telepathic powers, the result of an upbringing on Auron, which she had recently departed in order to bring chaos to the enemy.
Her adversary looked haughtily at her, but said nothing.
"I said, May you die alone and silent!" she hissed much more venomously, as he had obviously not gotten the message.
He continued to stare blankly at her.
She stared back moodily, her green eyes alive with fury.
"Can I help you?" asked her leather-clad nemesis, surprisingly nonchalantly for someone on the wrong end of the gun. But then, she reflected, this may have been because he also had a gun, and he was on the correct end of that one.
"Bugger." She thought somewhat sulkily.
"Do you want something?" He asked hypothetically.
This time she spoke aloud. "For the last time, I said May you die alone and silent!" She jabbed her gun toward him to emphasise the point.
"Well now, I'm certain I heard nothing of the sort." He said infuriatingly.
"I said it telepathically!"
"Ah, well. I'm not telepathic myself you see, which probably explains my failure to hear you." He said reasonably.
"Oh."
They stood for a while, guns still pointed at each other, not saying anything. Considering they had only just met, and not under the best of circumstances, the silence was quite companionable.
Presently, she became aware of another presence.
"What is that?" she asked incredulously.
"Don't mind him. Vila's only mildly toxic, and not at all if you take precautions."
"I assume you are referring to a colleague. I was speaking of the ship which has materialised behind you."
He spun round.
Her opponent's wrist beeped, and he lifted his arm to speak into an ornate plastic band. Strange. She had not previously had the impression that he was effeminate.
"Jenna. What the hell are you doing?" he asked imperiously.
A female voice replied. "You've been gone such a long time Avon. I was beginning to get lonely."
"Then go call on Blake. I'm busy." He said exasperatedly.
"I can see that." Replied the disembodied voice. "You're not busy with me though, are you?"
Cally looked skyward, and feigned an interest in cloud formations. This was none of her affair, despite the other female's suspicions. Although, she did admit, he looked quite good in that suit. Very few men could pull off a red leather pin tucked puff sleeved ensemble. Definitely gay, she decided.
He turned back to her. "Look," he said awkwardly, "I know this is a bit sudden, but we're taking off in a bit, after we've... um... taken care of some business, and I wondered if you'd like to come with?"
"With you?"
"No." He said irritatedly. "With Vila. That was sarcasm by the way."
"Yes. I caught that."
"Oh. Well, nobody else round here seems to. So how about it? Adventure? Excitement? Really wild things?" He asked eagerly.
Cally privately thought that she had quite a lot of those things here already, what with being the sole survivor of the rebellion, and on the most wanted list and what not, but on the other hand, how bad could it be? A ride off this rock, and a shower, in exchange for slightly toxic companions, and this guy wouldn't bother her, because he was so totally gay.
"Ok then." She said sheathing her gun. "Take me to your leader."
He blinked in startlement. "What?"
"She shrugged. "I always wanted to say that. Let's go then."
And so the beautiful rebel and the weedy programmer headed toward the ship and, alien possessions notwithstanding, the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
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