With cheeks flushed and her hair more out of a ponytail than in, Beth comes in from outside clad in her sweatpants and a t-shirt borrowed from a certain bounty hunter
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Spike figures when a guy can learn to whistle in zero gravity, he ought to be able to whistle anywhere. Including a bar at the end of the universe; he stops at that bar and gets himself a vodka sour and a plate of fruit and whistles all the way over to that couch by the fire, where this woman he knows is wearing a t-shirt that looks kind of familiar.
It looks a hell of a lot better on her than it does on him.
"Hey. I heard there was this really beautiful woman outside running. You see her at all?"
They've played this game before, but it's a good one. It usually leads to fun places, but even if it doesn't? He won't care. It's being near her and getting to look up and see her that motivate him.
"'Cause I hear there's a bounty hunter somewhere around this place who's looking for her."
Sitting next to her, his eyes can't help but travel to her chest, then slowly back up again. "I thought that was a secret. Shit."
He leans over to kiss her anyway, then sits by her side. "On tonight's menu we have..." He studies the plate for a minute before looking up at her again. "We have grapefruit and pineapple and shikonberries. Good bar. And look, Slim: onsui-kajitsu." He doesn't know how the hell Bar can make the rarest of Martian fruits but he's not going to start asking too many questions about it either. Balancing the plate on his legs, he starts to peel that last fruit. Conventional wisdom would say save the best for last, but fuck that: he's going to enjoy it with Beth right about now.
Damn. She looks so beautiful tonight. Then again, she always, always does.
She's felt sick to her stomach once all week long, and she sure as hell doesn't miss waking up like that every morning.
Watching Spike peeling the fruit, she can't help leaning over to kiss the side of his face and ask in a low voice, "Does the bounty increase with their size?"
"I'm not telling." Setting the peel aside, he breaks the segmented onsui-kajitsu fruit into halves, looking down at it in his hands. Hell, he'd feed her himself if he thought he could juggle that, his drink, and the plate. This is precious cargo doubled, after all.
Well, fuck. He sets his drink down on a nearby table and puts the plate there too, but he doesn't drop that weird Martian tangerine at all. Instead, he separates each little segment and holds one up for her.
"I've had more of these since I met you than I ever had my whole life. Must mean you're magic or something."
Her lips, her lips: she doesn't even have to do anything and they're mesmerizing. But he grins, just for her. "And I'll try really hard not to drop any of this on your... bounties."
With the bite of fruit in her mouth, she barely keeps herself from laughing.
And then she kind of has to look down at them herself. It's like being told not to turn around and look at the guy behind you or not to think of pink elephants.
"I'm sure they're just going to get even more bountiful."
Her hand, idle, perches on Spike's leg. Usually it's Spike's thing to do that to her, but there's no law saying she can't do it to him.
And she'd probably have to break a law like that anyway.
"Those must be my magic powers: increasing breast size and tripling your onsui-kajitsu intake." She grins. "Must've been in the wrong line when they were handing magic powers out, but these aren't so bad."
Amused, he takes his own bite of the sweet-and-tangy fruit and it tastes like a million Woolongs: it always does. It reminds him of things. It reminds him of their first trip to Mars together, and of simpler but no less compelling times, and of being a little kid learning how to pronounce the word. He remembers his mom: No, little one, it's "on-SU-ee ka-JEET-su." It's kind of a shame she died before he could get back and say hello, tell her he was okay.
But he can think about all that some other time. Right now there's that huge fucking grin on Beth's face and it lights up the whole room. "Hell, ma'am, they're not so bad at all." His eyes stray to her chest again, but when he speaks, his voice is quiet. "And I think they're already more bountiful. Might have to measure later." With a grin of his own, he hands her some more of the fruit. "Just to be sure, of course. We don't want them to be undervalued."
He's glad she hasn't moved her hand: those little random moments of contact fill him with this almost inexplicable contentment.
Slowly, he swallows the onsui-kajitsu and sets the rest of it back on the plate before resting his hand on top of hers. He could stare at her face all day, just get lost in it, and never realize any time had passed. Not a single minute.
But his eyes soften and his lips curl into a grin. "Hey. Sorry. Got distracted there for a minute: how was your run?" Beneath his fingers, her hands are warm and soft and electric.
While she was running, he spent his time reading The Joy of Sex.
She grins. "You sure know how to make a girl feel like the best fucking thing since chocolate-covered strawberries."
Turning so she can drape her legs over the arm of the couch, she kind of leans against Spike, not moving her hand. "Was great. I sort of had all this sudden energy I needed to do something with, you know? And it's not so bad out there."
It's a hell of a lot better than waking up puking. He can think of other things to do with lots of energy, but hey, the night's still young and they haven't even started on the shikonberries yet. Turning toward her, he catches her up in his arms. Holding her is one of his favorite things to do; he kisses the side of her neck simply because he can and whispers three of his favorite words.
"Love you, Beth." He didn't set out intentionally just now to try to make her feel like the best fucking thing since chocolate-covered strawberries but hell, he's not going to pass on that compliment.
"You know, in some ways being at this place is a lot like being on the Bebop. There's kind of a routine to it. There's a limited number of rooms to be in. Some of the faces are the same. But the food's better and the company's way fucking nicer
( ... )
She closes her eyes, thinking that one of her favorite reasons for keeping her hair this length now is that it isn't long enough to obscure her neck from quick kisses like that, doesn't keep her from feeling his breath against her neck when they're this close.
With Beth in his arms, he's content. He reaches over for that plate of fruit and offers some to her: it's good for her. The thought hey, look at this, we've successfully made the migration from table to couch, it's ours, back off filters through his brain and it makes him smile.
"I'd live in a church with you."
It's not an idle offer. He'd follow her wherever she went if she'd have him: all the way to hell and back again.
Or Cooksfield. Even if he was one of the only two men on the whole planet. No matter what year a person's from, Earth's still a big fucking place.
And taking the fruit, she doesn't even think about how much she'd hate for him to have to live in Cooksfield.
All she does is throw away the thoughts of how they'd have to keep the doors locked all the time (she would anyway at this point) and how they'd have to be wary about everybody and how she'll have a baby before too long and all that crap.
"I'd share my little mattress with you. And I'd set fire to anyone who tried to get near a stained glass window with you." She pops a shikonberry in her mouth. "We could have a tobacco plot in the churchyard, take turns making dinner, have sex in all kinds of sacrilegious places."
What really makes him beam is her protection threat, the one about setting fire to anyone who tried to get near a stained glass window with him. Makes him feel all wanted and shit, and it's those kinds of little offhand sayings that prove that nothing about what they have is forced or false.
It's a really good feeling. Like he actually matters for once. Like he matters as much to her as she does to him.
So it's taken me a while to really figure that out. What the hell. I got here eventually.
It takes all his willpower to keep his hands from running over her body while they're down here on this couch by the fire eating shikonberries. Leaning in, he whispers again.
Turning toward him, she taps a berry against his mouth like it's knocking against his lips to gain entrance.
"There's still time." She tilts her head, putting on a good show of being really thoughtful. "Or we could just skip the potechi and go straight to dessert."
It looks a hell of a lot better on her than it does on him.
"Hey. I heard there was this really beautiful woman outside running. You see her at all?"
They've played this game before, but it's a good one. It usually leads to fun places, but even if it doesn't? He won't care. It's being near her and getting to look up and see her that motivate him.
"'Cause I hear there's a bounty hunter somewhere around this place who's looking for her."
Reply
"Blonde? Green eyes? The one with the bounty on her breasts?"
Reply
He leans over to kiss her anyway, then sits by her side. "On tonight's menu we have..." He studies the plate for a minute before looking up at her again. "We have grapefruit and pineapple and shikonberries. Good bar. And look, Slim: onsui-kajitsu." He doesn't know how the hell Bar can make the rarest of Martian fruits but he's not going to start asking too many questions about it either. Balancing the plate on his legs, he starts to peel that last fruit. Conventional wisdom would say save the best for last, but fuck that: he's going to enjoy it with Beth right about now.
Damn. She looks so beautiful tonight. Then again, she always, always does.
Reply
She's felt sick to her stomach once all week long, and she sure as hell doesn't miss waking up like that every morning.
Watching Spike peeling the fruit, she can't help leaning over to kiss the side of his face and ask in a low voice, "Does the bounty increase with their size?"
Reply
Well, fuck. He sets his drink down on a nearby table and puts the plate there too, but he doesn't drop that weird Martian tangerine at all. Instead, he separates each little segment and holds one up for her.
"I've had more of these since I met you than I ever had my whole life. Must mean you're magic or something."
Her lips, her lips: she doesn't even have to do anything and they're mesmerizing. But he grins, just for her. "And I'll try really hard not to drop any of this on your... bounties."
Reply
And then she kind of has to look down at them herself. It's like being told not to turn around and look at the guy behind you or not to think of pink elephants.
"I'm sure they're just going to get even more bountiful."
Her hand, idle, perches on Spike's leg. Usually it's Spike's thing to do that to her, but there's no law saying she can't do it to him.
And she'd probably have to break a law like that anyway.
"Those must be my magic powers: increasing breast size and tripling your onsui-kajitsu intake." She grins. "Must've been in the wrong line when they were handing magic powers out, but these aren't so bad."
Reply
But he can think about all that some other time. Right now there's that huge fucking grin on Beth's face and it lights up the whole room. "Hell, ma'am, they're not so bad at all." His eyes stray to her chest again, but when he speaks, his voice is quiet. "And I think they're already more bountiful. Might have to measure later." With a grin of his own, he hands her some more of the fruit. "Just to be sure, of course. We don't want them to be undervalued."
He's glad she hasn't moved her hand: those little random moments of contact fill him with this almost inexplicable contentment.
Reply
She's still grinning, even as she eats the second piece of fruit he handed her.
"Well, you are the expert around here on that subject. If you think you need to, I trust your judgement."
Reply
But his eyes soften and his lips curl into a grin. "Hey. Sorry. Got distracted there for a minute: how was your run?" Beneath his fingers, her hands are warm and soft and electric.
While she was running, he spent his time reading The Joy of Sex.
Of course.
Reply
She grins. "You sure know how to make a girl feel like the best fucking thing since chocolate-covered strawberries."
Turning so she can drape her legs over the arm of the couch, she kind of leans against Spike, not moving her hand. "Was great. I sort of had all this sudden energy I needed to do something with, you know? And it's not so bad out there."
Reply
"Love you, Beth." He didn't set out intentionally just now to try to make her feel like the best fucking thing since chocolate-covered strawberries but hell, he's not going to pass on that compliment.
"You know, in some ways being at this place is a lot like being on the Bebop. There's kind of a routine to it. There's a limited number of rooms to be in. Some of the faces are the same. But the food's better and the company's way fucking nicer ( ... )
Reply
She closes her eyes, thinking that one of her favorite reasons for keeping her hair this length now is that it isn't long enough to obscure her neck from quick kisses like that, doesn't keep her from feeling his breath against her neck when they're this close.
"This is nothing like living in a church."
Reply
With Beth in his arms, he's content. He reaches over for that plate of fruit and offers some to her: it's good for her. The thought hey, look at this, we've successfully made the migration from table to couch, it's ours, back off filters through his brain and it makes him smile.
"I'd live in a church with you."
It's not an idle offer. He'd follow her wherever she went if she'd have him: all the way to hell and back again.
Or Cooksfield. Even if he was one of the only two men on the whole planet. No matter what year a person's from, Earth's still a big fucking place.
Reply
And taking the fruit, she doesn't even think about how much she'd hate for him to have to live in Cooksfield.
All she does is throw away the thoughts of how they'd have to keep the doors locked all the time (she would anyway at this point) and how they'd have to be wary about everybody and how she'll have a baby before too long and all that crap.
"I'd share my little mattress with you. And I'd set fire to anyone who tried to get near a stained glass window with you." She pops a shikonberry in her mouth. "We could have a tobacco plot in the churchyard, take turns making dinner, have sex in all kinds of sacrilegious places."
She laughs. "Doesn't that sound like the life?"
Reply
What really makes him beam is her protection threat, the one about setting fire to anyone who tried to get near a stained glass window with him. Makes him feel all wanted and shit, and it's those kinds of little offhand sayings that prove that nothing about what they have is forced or false.
It's a really good feeling. Like he actually matters for once. Like he matters as much to her as she does to him.
So it's taken me a while to really figure that out. What the hell. I got here eventually.
It takes all his willpower to keep his hands from running over her body while they're down here on this couch by the fire eating shikonberries. Leaning in, he whispers again.
"We should've gone for the potechi."
Not that they need excuses.
Reply
Turning toward him, she taps a berry against his mouth like it's knocking against his lips to gain entrance.
"There's still time." She tilts her head, putting on a good show of being really thoughtful. "Or we could just skip the potechi and go straight to dessert."
Reply
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