taco night (kate/libby) pg13
title: taco night
fandom: lost
character(s)/pairing(s): kate/libby
rating: pg13
word count: 250
prompt: aluminum for femslash100's periodic table challenge (progress 17/30)
spoilers: none.
summary: au. she whispers puerto rico into the shell of her ear, thinking fondly of the two open-ended place tickets sitting in a drawer in her nightstand.
Libby kisses the hollow just behind her ear as Kate grates cheese, grinning softly down at the chipped bowl they snagged at a flee market last year.
The walls are lined with little trinkets from distant places, some they’ve traveled to together and others they brought back separately.
Desert. Mountains. Swamp. Plains.
It wasn’t always by choice; before Kate made right with the law she went a lot of places, trying to escape, and not always just from the cops. But she’s done running away from herself. She’s got something to run to now. And Libby’s just happy to finally be herself.
Just above the sink is a map populated by colored thumb-tacks.
Blue: places we’ve been.
Red: places we’ll go.
Green: places we’ll visit again, but on our own terms this time.
Kate sways gently to the music tinkling from the distorted speakers of the radio, Moonlight Serenade guiding the roll of her hips. The spatula scrapes through the Mexican beans on the stove as Libby pops a jalapeño into her mouth. Kate feels the spread of Libby’s fingers on her hip, the hot puff of air at the nape of her neck, the tip of her tongue. She whispers Puerto Rico into the shell of her ear, thinking fondly of the two open-ended place tickets sitting in a drawer in her nightstand.
Sand. Waves. Palm trees.
Libby giggles uncontrollably when she distracts Kate enough that the smoke detector protests shrilly.
Somehow taco night doesn’t seem so bad anymore.
fandom: lost
character(s)/pairing(s): kate/libby
rating: pg13
word count: 250
prompt: aluminum for femslash100's periodic table challenge (progress 17/30)
spoilers: none.
summary: au. she whispers puerto rico into the shell of her ear, thinking fondly of the two open-ended place tickets sitting in a drawer in her nightstand.
Libby kisses the hollow just behind her ear as Kate grates cheese, grinning softly down at the chipped bowl they snagged at a flee market last year.
The walls are lined with little trinkets from distant places, some they’ve traveled to together and others they brought back separately.
Desert. Mountains. Swamp. Plains.
It wasn’t always by choice; before Kate made right with the law she went a lot of places, trying to escape, and not always just from the cops. But she’s done running away from herself. She’s got something to run to now. And Libby’s just happy to finally be herself.
Just above the sink is a map populated by colored thumb-tacks.
Blue: places we’ve been.
Red: places we’ll go.
Green: places we’ll visit again, but on our own terms this time.
Kate sways gently to the music tinkling from the distorted speakers of the radio, Moonlight Serenade guiding the roll of her hips. The spatula scrapes through the Mexican beans on the stove as Libby pops a jalapeño into her mouth. Kate feels the spread of Libby’s fingers on her hip, the hot puff of air at the nape of her neck, the tip of her tongue. She whispers Puerto Rico into the shell of her ear, thinking fondly of the two open-ended place tickets sitting in a drawer in her nightstand.
Sand. Waves. Palm trees.
Libby giggles uncontrollably when she distracts Kate enough that the smoke detector protests shrilly.
Somehow taco night doesn’t seem so bad anymore.