Not a Drabble: Blake's 7.
No, really, this is over the limit. Sigh. *too lazy to fix*
Post-Star One/Aftermath
"You enjoyed it."
"Of course."
Cally snorts and flops onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. "I don't mean just the killing Travis bits, Avon. I mean all of it."
If she were looking, she'd see his sardonic look trained upon her.
But she isn't, and thus his reply loses its bite, "I enjoy many things."
"Right." It occurs to her that Travis should have been her kill. He'd tortured her, after all, not Avon.
Avon's hand pushes at her shoulder, "Would you be here if I didn't?"
Complying with the unspoken request, Cally shifts, letting him climb in next to her. The bunks really weren't built for two, and the incongruous thought occurs to her that the aliens that built Liberator never procreated for recreation.
Post-Star One/Aftermath
"You enjoyed it."
"Of course."
Cally snorts and flops onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. "I don't mean just the killing Travis bits, Avon. I mean all of it."
If she were looking, she'd see his sardonic look trained upon her.
But she isn't, and thus his reply loses its bite, "I enjoy many things."
"Right." It occurs to her that Travis should have been her kill. He'd tortured her, after all, not Avon.
Avon's hand pushes at her shoulder, "Would you be here if I didn't?"
Complying with the unspoken request, Cally shifts, letting him climb in next to her. The bunks really weren't built for two, and the incongruous thought occurs to her that the aliens that built Liberator never procreated for recreation.