Ships That Pass in the Night
Author: Amata le Fay
Title: Ships That Pass in the Night
Story: Crossover
Flavor(s): Summer Challenge Trope Bunnies 14 (crack ship), Teaberry 25 (come live with me and be my love and we will all the pleasures prove)
Toppings/Extras: Chopped Nuts (obviously)
Rating: PG13 (a fair amount of innuendo)
Word Count: 703
Notes: None of these pairings ever should have happened, and thank Flogoth they didn't. / Concrit welcome.
The bodies of Faye Nye and Rayn Yates lay tangled together on the floor as the souls trapped inside of them laughed, invisible eyes filled with sordid pleasure. She's going to be so shaken when she wakes up, the poor thing, said Eyaf, wiggling Faye's lifeless fingers.
Nyar flexed Rayn's muscles. My boy's gay. This'll slaughter him. Nyar made him grin, then frown as she muttered, Too little for what he did.
Oh, sweetie. Eyaf had Faye pat Rayn on the back. The gesture of comfort did little to help Nyar, who only a few hours ago had been so unused to moving Rayn's body that she'd hit Faye repeatedly with the wings. “Repeatedly”meaning fourteen times.
Save it, she said. Unless it makes up for nineteen years of keeping me locked up in his head so strung out on drugs I couldn't tell if the sky was catnip or John C. Calhoun.
Eyaf stared, then slowly grinned. Well, well. He'd actually found a girl crazier than Faye. And with a hot sense of vengeance to boot.
*
“So, it's all a performance, you see.” Jack flicked aside the eyescreen he had been reading off of and directed his attention toward the older woman in front of him. She looked like a darker-skinned Inara, only with an unshakeable sense of confidence and more blatant flirtatiousness. But, like with Inara, it was all a façade. All a performance, indeed. He could see why this woman had the revolutionary circuit wrapped around her little finger.
“Of course it is, baby,” Monique purred. This man was smart, but no smarter than Silias. Certainly, he had an education, but that never counted for anything. “That's all a revolution is. But you're above all that smoke and mirrors, you think?”
Jack gave her an even stare. “Are you?”
She laughed. “I love the frenzy. Rather be at the center than above it all.”
Jack smirked and pulled her closer. “I'd like to see some of that.”
“Then join us.” Monique spread her arms out and sang. “Leave your fields to flower.”
*
“I like you,” Merlin said, catching the arm of the man's silken suit. “I never know what to expect from you.”
Roderigo only gave him an even stare. Merlin was psychic, that was clear-and yet, for all his powers of foresight, the mage was unable to predict Roderigo's actions? The mental shield he'd spent his years constructing was finally being tested.
“Oh, you're married,” noted Merlin, pointing to Roderigo's wedding ring.
He laughed once, then continued calmly, “My wife is an experiment, as was my last lover and her child. Both my elder sons drove each other criminally insane. My daughter is rebellious, my youngest son weak. The only ties I have are puppet strings.”
Merlin clucked his tongue. “You need someone worthy of your intellect.”
“No,” said Roderigo, “what I need is a psychic.” He moved within a breath of Merlin's body; they stood together, eye to eye. “Would you like to control the universe alongside me?”
“Oh, Roddy,” Merlin laughed. “That's what I was about to ask you.”
*
“Um,” said Asher.
“Well,” said Morian.
“Turn the gucking thing off,” growled Javert, trying desperately not to reach for his gun and shoot holes in the screen. Someone-they suspected either Monique or Kid, or possibly both-had insisted they watch The Hobbit: The Decimation of Smaug, and guess which two characters looked exactly like Morian and Asher? The two actors with the most awkward romantic prison cell scene of the decade.
Blueberry, oblivious up on Asher's shoulder, swatted at a snake coiled up in Morian's hair. Holly, the snake, hissed. The kitten hissed back.
“Stop that,” Asher and Morian said gently to their pets, at the same time. They looked up at each other, then back down to the books they had been using to avoid watching more of the movie.
Conall grinned at the furious Javert. “Hey, next let's watch Pride and Prejudice, where you and Faye have the classic snarky banter that you and Morian usually share, and then watch Anna Karenina where you're Faye's brother with a bushy Russian mustache.”
Morian's eye widened. “A mustache?”
Javert rubbed the area under his nose. “A mustache...” he mused.