Fair Play (Noir, Chloe/Mireille, PG13)

[anenko]

Title: Fair Play
Author: anenko
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Blood, non-graphic violence.
Summary: "You've beaten me. Now what are you going to do with me?"
Prompt: June 3 - Noir, Chloe/Mireille: getting information - "What does she see in you?"



Pathetic, Chloe thought. Mireille Bouquet--she who dared claim the name Noir as her own--was sprawled out on the dirt floor, coughing on her own blood. Her hand slid outwards across the ground, towards the gun she’d dropped moments earlier. Chloe could slit her throat before the other woman had time enough to aim her weapon. The thought was appealing.

“Ah, ah,” Chloe said. Her knife grazed Mireille’s fingertips, and stopped Mireille just short of reaching the gun.

Mireille’s entire body went taut. She relaxed by increments, eyes never leaving Chloe’s. “You’ve beaten me,” she said, the thread of unease in her voice barely perceptible. “Now what are you going to do with me?”

Chloe drew another knife from her cloak. She turned the knife towards Mireille, let the other woman watch the light play across the finely honed edge of the blade. I could kill you, she though, and saw the knowledge reflected in Mireille’s eyes. Frightened, pathetic, weak--she didn’t deserve to carry the name of Noir. She didn’t deserve Kirika’s partnership, her friendship--her love.

“What does she see in you?”

Chloe was stronger, faster, deadlier--better--than Mireille. Chloe’s words had given Mireille a weapon. Chloe could sense the oncoming attack: it was reflected in the miniscule twist of Mireille’s lips, in the long breath she took, in the very air around them.

“I could show you,” Mireille said.

Chloe would not be taken in by cheap tricks. She didn’t look as Mireille’s legs shifted against the ground; didn’t watch as the hem of Mireille’s skirt rose higher, opened the curve of her inner thighs to Chloe’s view. There was nothing that Mireille could offer her; Chloe’s question had been a mistake borne of months of frustrated longing--and Kirika would return to Chloe’s side in good time.

Mireille’s lips were wet and red with blood. She smiled when Chloe set her knife to Mireille’s neck. “You’re curious, aren’t you? You wonder what I do with Kirika, in my bed. You wonder, and it kills you.”

Chloe was above base desires.

Mireille’s hand spasmed around her gun. Blood streaked her arm, the wound messy, painful--but not not permanently debilitating. Chloe could destroy Mireille’s career, and leave her as good as dead, if she let the blade sink a little deeper into the other woman’s arm. Mireille’s knowing smirk had disappeared; her lower lip was caught between her teeth, pained lines forming deep grooves around her mouth.

“Kirika chose me,” Mireille gasped, “because you’re nothing but a dangerous child.”

Mireille Bouquet was weak, slow, pathetic.

She wasn’t worth Chloe’s hate, and yet Chloe couldn’t help but despise her.

“Pathetic,” Mireille said, and barred her red teeth at Chloe in a smile.

--end