butter pecan and flavour of the day with cookie crumbs and fresh peaches
Story: Timeless { backstory | index }
Title: Breathless
Rating: PG
Challenge: Butter Pecan #7: dark, FOTD: buss
Toppings/Extras: cookie crumbs, fresh peaches
Wordcount: 729
Summary: Miss Merritt is a tricky one.
Notes: Overlapping cookie crumbs of Tarnish. This is just before and a little bit during. Buss: A kiss; a playful kiss; a smack. Peaches: With Neptune weaving a spell and Uranus bringing sudden experiences tonight, connections go along smoothly until sudden emotional storms erupt.
“The cheeky bloody sods,” Isaac Prowse said, eyebrows high on his forehead as he stared into the Kraken’s pantry. He was unsurprised but it was still worth a reaction when the pirates ate their way through what was supposed to be a month’s worth of food in about two days. Not that it was his problem-Newson would have to fork out for more. Still, it was annoying that apparently only tins were left and that was because they couldn’t figure out how to open them.
Though not for lack of trying if the multitude of scattered, trampled, dented tins were anything to go by.
“They’re like children,” Adele Merritt said from next to him, arching a fine dark eyebrow and folding her arms. “Or animals.”
“Yes,” Isaac replied for lack of anything better to say. Eventually he found one: “Why is this of any interest to me?”
“Captain Graham seems wary of you,” Adele replied in a clipped voice, inspecting her immaculately painted nails-dark damson purple, of course. “You are here to keep him-and his crew-in line, aren’t you?” The furrows in her brow became sharper. “Why does he seem nervous about you, anyway?”
Isaac decided not to mention the huge number of times he had stabbed, shot at, beaten, kicked, strangled and generally maimed Jacob Graham. It didn’t strike him as the sort of thing one discussed in a professional capacity. Certainly, Graham’s enmity was with Lord Ashdown alone, but the idea of Ashdown going out and brawling with the man was laughable. As always, it came down to him.
“I couldn’t really say,” Isaac said, all innocence. “You don’t need me to punish him, Miss Merritt, surely? Not with your capacity for…” He paused. “Terror.”
“Are you saying you’re scared of me, Prowse?” Adele asked impishly.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he responded, looking down at her. He was a tall man. “There’s nothing to be scared of.”
“Oh, really?”
“I fail to see what’s so petrifying about a very rude young lady.”
“Rude?”
“You have no manners at all.” The expression on his face matched hers-a slightly competitive smirk. The two of them had slipped into sarcastic familiarity over the past few weeks on board the Kraken and snipes that had at one time been genuinely irritating had dissolved into silly word spars. “I don’t see why anyone puts up with your austerulous mannerisms at all, frankly.”
“There are advantages,” she sneered, eyes suddenly snapping away from his face to rove over his body. There was something slightly uncomfortable but thrilling about the sensation. “How tall are you?”
“Tall enough.”
“You’re very evasive,” she said slowly. “I hardly know a thing about you.”
“Are you really that interested in my height?”
“No,” she said, “not exactly.”
“Sometimes I can scarcely understand you,” Isaac said. He didn’t mean the words themselves; more the reasons she said them or the context of them. Adele was as baffling as she was fearsome. She laughed suddenly.
“You’re so cute,” she said, lashes dropping dangerously low over her suede-blue eyes.
“If you say so,” he replied. “We don’t use that word where I’m from.”
“And you always have to make things so difficult,” Adele said with a shake of the head.
“Why don’t you just tell me what it means?”
He had a feeling that he knew, or thereabouts, by the way she was standing so close to him, the way her eyes engulfed him completely. Despite his suspicions about the word, he didn’t expect her to suddenly grasp him around the neck, jerk his head forcefully down and finish the movement off with the lightest, most impossibly short kiss.
Far too short, really.
That was probably why the next thing he knew, they were in the pantry itself, door closed against light and distraction, kissing each other into walls and grappling with each other urgently. Adele had angry, hungry kisses full of need and control. It was hard to breathe.
Eventually he detached her lips from his neck, vaguely wondering where his cravat had gone, cupping his hands under her face with his thumbs along her jawline.
“Did you bring me here just for this?”
The poisonous woman looked at him for a moment and smiled quite suddenly.
“You really are quite dense, aren’t you?” she asked.
Then she kissed him again and everything went to hell.
Title: Breathless
Rating: PG
Challenge: Butter Pecan #7: dark, FOTD: buss
Toppings/Extras: cookie crumbs, fresh peaches
Wordcount: 729
Summary: Miss Merritt is a tricky one.
Notes: Overlapping cookie crumbs of Tarnish. This is just before and a little bit during. Buss: A kiss; a playful kiss; a smack. Peaches: With Neptune weaving a spell and Uranus bringing sudden experiences tonight, connections go along smoothly until sudden emotional storms erupt.
“The cheeky bloody sods,” Isaac Prowse said, eyebrows high on his forehead as he stared into the Kraken’s pantry. He was unsurprised but it was still worth a reaction when the pirates ate their way through what was supposed to be a month’s worth of food in about two days. Not that it was his problem-Newson would have to fork out for more. Still, it was annoying that apparently only tins were left and that was because they couldn’t figure out how to open them.
Though not for lack of trying if the multitude of scattered, trampled, dented tins were anything to go by.
“They’re like children,” Adele Merritt said from next to him, arching a fine dark eyebrow and folding her arms. “Or animals.”
“Yes,” Isaac replied for lack of anything better to say. Eventually he found one: “Why is this of any interest to me?”
“Captain Graham seems wary of you,” Adele replied in a clipped voice, inspecting her immaculately painted nails-dark damson purple, of course. “You are here to keep him-and his crew-in line, aren’t you?” The furrows in her brow became sharper. “Why does he seem nervous about you, anyway?”
Isaac decided not to mention the huge number of times he had stabbed, shot at, beaten, kicked, strangled and generally maimed Jacob Graham. It didn’t strike him as the sort of thing one discussed in a professional capacity. Certainly, Graham’s enmity was with Lord Ashdown alone, but the idea of Ashdown going out and brawling with the man was laughable. As always, it came down to him.
“I couldn’t really say,” Isaac said, all innocence. “You don’t need me to punish him, Miss Merritt, surely? Not with your capacity for…” He paused. “Terror.”
“Are you saying you’re scared of me, Prowse?” Adele asked impishly.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he responded, looking down at her. He was a tall man. “There’s nothing to be scared of.”
“Oh, really?”
“I fail to see what’s so petrifying about a very rude young lady.”
“Rude?”
“You have no manners at all.” The expression on his face matched hers-a slightly competitive smirk. The two of them had slipped into sarcastic familiarity over the past few weeks on board the Kraken and snipes that had at one time been genuinely irritating had dissolved into silly word spars. “I don’t see why anyone puts up with your austerulous mannerisms at all, frankly.”
“There are advantages,” she sneered, eyes suddenly snapping away from his face to rove over his body. There was something slightly uncomfortable but thrilling about the sensation. “How tall are you?”
“Tall enough.”
“You’re very evasive,” she said slowly. “I hardly know a thing about you.”
“Are you really that interested in my height?”
“No,” she said, “not exactly.”
“Sometimes I can scarcely understand you,” Isaac said. He didn’t mean the words themselves; more the reasons she said them or the context of them. Adele was as baffling as she was fearsome. She laughed suddenly.
“You’re so cute,” she said, lashes dropping dangerously low over her suede-blue eyes.
“If you say so,” he replied. “We don’t use that word where I’m from.”
“And you always have to make things so difficult,” Adele said with a shake of the head.
“Why don’t you just tell me what it means?”
He had a feeling that he knew, or thereabouts, by the way she was standing so close to him, the way her eyes engulfed him completely. Despite his suspicions about the word, he didn’t expect her to suddenly grasp him around the neck, jerk his head forcefully down and finish the movement off with the lightest, most impossibly short kiss.
Far too short, really.
That was probably why the next thing he knew, they were in the pantry itself, door closed against light and distraction, kissing each other into walls and grappling with each other urgently. Adele had angry, hungry kisses full of need and control. It was hard to breathe.
Eventually he detached her lips from his neck, vaguely wondering where his cravat had gone, cupping his hands under her face with his thumbs along her jawline.
“Did you bring me here just for this?”
The poisonous woman looked at him for a moment and smiled quite suddenly.
“You really are quite dense, aren’t you?” she asked.
Then she kissed him again and everything went to hell.