Tasha / Slink - A gift - G
Once again, Tasha was awaiting Slink. This was getting to be a habit. An addiction. An obsession. And with the torturous images, whispers and presences having left her, Slink was practically the only thing occupying her mind apart from Renee's impending release.
Why Slink?
She could no more answer that question than she could deny the feelings that were slowly wrapping themselves around her heart. They were sweet and warm, but at the same time so constricting, a burden. And Goddamn it, she was submitting to them, and she knew it. Why else would that beautiful knife be sitting on her bed with a fucking black ribbon tied around it, for fuck's sake?
It was all quite beyond a joke, really.
And every minute that passed, that brought Slink closer to being here, her heart beat a little faster.
Straight after work, Stephie headed over to Tasha's house, still dressed in the little red and black Apocalypse Records tshirt with her usual black coat over top. Goddamnit, she was so jumpy today, her nerves were really, well, getting on her nerves as she eyed up eveyone who walked into the store with a bag or a coat or a suspicious look. It was stupid, she was so used to suspicious people. She was the suspicious one shopowners kept their eye on when she entered a store. And just because a couple of drugged up hooligans had pulled guns on her on Friday it didn't mean it was going to happen again. (Who knew what would have happened if Jillian hadn't been there?)
She hadn't realised it had affected her this much. Really, why was the remote chance that she'd run into someone other gun toting idiot scarier than living down the hall from a demon? Really?
She was scared and she hated it. So when Tasha mentioned a knife, well, she'd been interested. And turning down a knife that Tasha had specially for her was so much harder than just turning down a knife.
Now here she was, knocking on Tasha's door.
Tasha was at the door and opening it before she even realised how quickly her feet had carried her there. There was no stopping her this time. No shadows to leap out at her. She wrapped her arms around Slink and held her tightly, her face pressed against the other girl's neck, inhaling the scent of her hair.
She wanted to puke at the thought of her own cutesiness, but it just felt so good.
"Hi Slink," she murmured, loosening her grip just a little.
"Well hey there, limpet." Stephie said, a little surprised at Tasha's greeting. "You alright?"
"Yes," Tasha smiled brighty. "Everything is fine!" Except that I'm going to make myself sick with my own chirpiness. Oh, who was she kidding? She couldn't help but smile every time she looked at Slink.
"C'mon!" she grinned. "I have to show you your present!" She grabbed Slink's hand and led her upstairs to her room.
Well, this Tasha was muct more amiable that the forever tired, jumping at her own shadow Tasha had been, although Stephie didn't think anyone would approve of descibing Tasha as amiable. So she just said "kay!" and followed Tasha up the stairs.
Tasha moved straight over to her bed and scooped up the knife from the pillow, complete with the little black ribbon tied around the hilt. It was a beautiful piece of work... The knife was encased in a metal scabbard of olive green, and the top of the hilt was emblazoned with a red star. The blade was about twenty-five centimetres long... a very deadly piece, one could tell, even though it was sheathed.
"For you, my dear," Tasha smiled, handing the knife to Slink gently. "If you want it..."
"Oh my god, Tash." Stephie said, folding one leg underneath her and sitting on the bed. She opened her palms and let Tasha place the knife into her hands, then drew it closed to her for a better look. "This is so not what I expected." She drew the blade and inspected it closely, then pressed her finger against it to test it's sharpness. "Jesus," she inhaled through her teeth as it broke her skin. "Wow, that's impressive." Stephie said, sucking the tip of her finger.
"It's a Soviet relic," Tasha told her, sitting down next to Slink... quite close. "That type of knife was outlawed for military use by the UN. See how the blade is serrated? That causes great pain, as well as death. Far more deadly than the standard blade. It can be attached to a bayonet, too, not that you would have one those," she said, pointing out where it would slot on. "That red star shows that it was from Stalin's day. World War II. But I never use it, so it is only collecting dust with me..."
"And you honestly want me to have this?" Stephie asked, still enamored with the shinyness. No one had even giver her a present this expensive before. (Except, she thought, Deirdre letting her live rent free maybe.)
"I do," Tasha nodded. It caused a slight tug on her heart to do that, a pleasure / pain reflex. The knife was a treasure that hurt to part with, but at the same time there was rapture, that this was something Slink would love, a truly beautiful gift. The right gift.
Gently, she placed her hands on Slink's, wrapping the other girl's fingers around the hilt. "Remember, this is not a blade for slashing. You will get nowhere. It is made for stabbing, so it is not a street-fighting weapon. This is for emergencies... the kind where you really need to do damage." It was possibly the most caring advice she had given to anyone who wasn't family... she really didn't want to see Slink hurt. That was what this was all about, really, wasn't it?
Not just that, though. If it was just concern for Slink's welfare, any knife would do. This was... goddamn it... special.
"Then, thanks. Thank you." She turned to face Tasha and smiled sincerely. "This is really- well... you're welcome to my staff discount at the music place any time." She grinned a little sheepishly, trying to think of something good enough to give in exchange.
"Thank you," Tasha chuckled. She refused to admit that she might have just giggled. "I'm very glad you like it." She hadn't taken her hands off Slink's. Didn't want to. Didn't want lose the closeness.
She could feel the pull of the other girl, her magnetism. Oh Hell, she was actually moving her face closer to Slink's! Natasha, what are you doing!
She shifted her face at the last second, feeling her own hair brush against Slink's cheek, and held the other girl in a close hug. "Thank you for looking after me when I was mental," she murmured.
"Hey, that's okay." Stephie said, leaning her own head against Tasha's and wrapping her free arm around Tasha's shoulders. "Thanks for being cool."
Tasha pulled back just enough to be able to look at Slink, a small smile gracing her lips. Gently, she reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair out of Slink's eyes, then kissed her forehead. She wanted to say something, but what? I want you? Where would that get her? Probably nowhere. I'm sorry? Sorry for what? And why would Slink care?
"Wanna get that celebratory drink?" she asked, her eyes flicking away and then back to Slink. She cursed herself for breaking the moment when all she wanted to do was kiss-
No. No no no. She wasn't even going to go there. Stop thinking about that!
As if yelling at herself in her head was going to change anything now.
Why Slink?
She could no more answer that question than she could deny the feelings that were slowly wrapping themselves around her heart. They were sweet and warm, but at the same time so constricting, a burden. And Goddamn it, she was submitting to them, and she knew it. Why else would that beautiful knife be sitting on her bed with a fucking black ribbon tied around it, for fuck's sake?
It was all quite beyond a joke, really.
And every minute that passed, that brought Slink closer to being here, her heart beat a little faster.
Straight after work, Stephie headed over to Tasha's house, still dressed in the little red and black Apocalypse Records tshirt with her usual black coat over top. Goddamnit, she was so jumpy today, her nerves were really, well, getting on her nerves as she eyed up eveyone who walked into the store with a bag or a coat or a suspicious look. It was stupid, she was so used to suspicious people. She was the suspicious one shopowners kept their eye on when she entered a store. And just because a couple of drugged up hooligans had pulled guns on her on Friday it didn't mean it was going to happen again. (Who knew what would have happened if Jillian hadn't been there?)
She hadn't realised it had affected her this much. Really, why was the remote chance that she'd run into someone other gun toting idiot scarier than living down the hall from a demon? Really?
She was scared and she hated it. So when Tasha mentioned a knife, well, she'd been interested. And turning down a knife that Tasha had specially for her was so much harder than just turning down a knife.
Now here she was, knocking on Tasha's door.
Tasha was at the door and opening it before she even realised how quickly her feet had carried her there. There was no stopping her this time. No shadows to leap out at her. She wrapped her arms around Slink and held her tightly, her face pressed against the other girl's neck, inhaling the scent of her hair.
She wanted to puke at the thought of her own cutesiness, but it just felt so good.
"Hi Slink," she murmured, loosening her grip just a little.
"Well hey there, limpet." Stephie said, a little surprised at Tasha's greeting. "You alright?"
"Yes," Tasha smiled brighty. "Everything is fine!" Except that I'm going to make myself sick with my own chirpiness. Oh, who was she kidding? She couldn't help but smile every time she looked at Slink.
"C'mon!" she grinned. "I have to show you your present!" She grabbed Slink's hand and led her upstairs to her room.
Well, this Tasha was muct more amiable that the forever tired, jumping at her own shadow Tasha had been, although Stephie didn't think anyone would approve of descibing Tasha as amiable. So she just said "kay!" and followed Tasha up the stairs.
Tasha moved straight over to her bed and scooped up the knife from the pillow, complete with the little black ribbon tied around the hilt. It was a beautiful piece of work... The knife was encased in a metal scabbard of olive green, and the top of the hilt was emblazoned with a red star. The blade was about twenty-five centimetres long... a very deadly piece, one could tell, even though it was sheathed.
"For you, my dear," Tasha smiled, handing the knife to Slink gently. "If you want it..."
"Oh my god, Tash." Stephie said, folding one leg underneath her and sitting on the bed. She opened her palms and let Tasha place the knife into her hands, then drew it closed to her for a better look. "This is so not what I expected." She drew the blade and inspected it closely, then pressed her finger against it to test it's sharpness. "Jesus," she inhaled through her teeth as it broke her skin. "Wow, that's impressive." Stephie said, sucking the tip of her finger.
"It's a Soviet relic," Tasha told her, sitting down next to Slink... quite close. "That type of knife was outlawed for military use by the UN. See how the blade is serrated? That causes great pain, as well as death. Far more deadly than the standard blade. It can be attached to a bayonet, too, not that you would have one those," she said, pointing out where it would slot on. "That red star shows that it was from Stalin's day. World War II. But I never use it, so it is only collecting dust with me..."
"And you honestly want me to have this?" Stephie asked, still enamored with the shinyness. No one had even giver her a present this expensive before. (Except, she thought, Deirdre letting her live rent free maybe.)
"I do," Tasha nodded. It caused a slight tug on her heart to do that, a pleasure / pain reflex. The knife was a treasure that hurt to part with, but at the same time there was rapture, that this was something Slink would love, a truly beautiful gift. The right gift.
Gently, she placed her hands on Slink's, wrapping the other girl's fingers around the hilt. "Remember, this is not a blade for slashing. You will get nowhere. It is made for stabbing, so it is not a street-fighting weapon. This is for emergencies... the kind where you really need to do damage." It was possibly the most caring advice she had given to anyone who wasn't family... she really didn't want to see Slink hurt. That was what this was all about, really, wasn't it?
Not just that, though. If it was just concern for Slink's welfare, any knife would do. This was... goddamn it... special.
"Then, thanks. Thank you." She turned to face Tasha and smiled sincerely. "This is really- well... you're welcome to my staff discount at the music place any time." She grinned a little sheepishly, trying to think of something good enough to give in exchange.
"Thank you," Tasha chuckled. She refused to admit that she might have just giggled. "I'm very glad you like it." She hadn't taken her hands off Slink's. Didn't want to. Didn't want lose the closeness.
She could feel the pull of the other girl, her magnetism. Oh Hell, she was actually moving her face closer to Slink's! Natasha, what are you doing!
She shifted her face at the last second, feeling her own hair brush against Slink's cheek, and held the other girl in a close hug. "Thank you for looking after me when I was mental," she murmured.
"Hey, that's okay." Stephie said, leaning her own head against Tasha's and wrapping her free arm around Tasha's shoulders. "Thanks for being cool."
Tasha pulled back just enough to be able to look at Slink, a small smile gracing her lips. Gently, she reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair out of Slink's eyes, then kissed her forehead. She wanted to say something, but what? I want you? Where would that get her? Probably nowhere. I'm sorry? Sorry for what? And why would Slink care?
"Wanna get that celebratory drink?" she asked, her eyes flicking away and then back to Slink. She cursed herself for breaking the moment when all she wanted to do was kiss-
No. No no no. She wasn't even going to go there. Stop thinking about that!
As if yelling at herself in her head was going to change anything now.