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Entry tags:
F: Games
Fandom: Firefly
Pairing: Saffron/Inara
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Summary: If that was a game, Inara just lost it.
"You got the better of me," Saffron says. "I'd like to know how."
Inara wonders if this is the real Saffron: her eyes flashing a little, her hand on her hip. She seems to be enjoying Inara's surprise -- and Inara knows she shouldn't be surprised by anything Saffron does: she does what she wants and gets where she wants to go -- and she seems to be full of an almost professional curiosity and admiration. "Careful planning," she says, "and your own over-confidence."
"I'll learn not to underestimate my husband in future," Saffron says, and a smile curls her lips; she seems satisfied, now, and amused. Inara rather expected her to remark on the way she left her -- in with the trash, no less. She expected some kind of revenge from Saffron, something more than this cool amusement. She can play this game, though -- she can play any game, once she knows the rules.
"He's not anyone's husband."
"More's the pity," Saffron says. Inara raises an eyebrow, and she elaborates. "For you, I mean. You love him."
"How -- " she starts, and then she stops. Saffron has got a little better at reading her, it seems: so be it. She keeps her eyes on Saffron's face as she takes a step closer, not backing away from the challenge. "Perhaps I do. A man who can get the better of you, though... surely he's worth it."
"Not if he had help from a woman such as you. Besides, you're digressing. You love the man."
Inara can't help but notice how Saffron's voice drips with bitterness, as if there's a sour taste in her mouth where she knows it should be sweet, when she says the word love. "I am a Companion."
"And you like to think you can't be roused unless you want to be -- is that it?"
Inara doesn't answer. She doesn't step back, either, when Saffron takes two quick decisive steps closer and she's there, fingers lifting Inara's chin so that for a moment, their eyes meet. She doesn't even back away when she realises what Saffron is going to do.
Saffron's kiss is eager and passionate and entirely professional. Inara knows this, but somehow she can't stop herself from responding in an entirely unprofessional way, responding to Saffron's fingers tangled in her hair, Saffron's hand curled over her shoulder, keeping her from pulling away. Before Saffron even breaks away with her self-satisfied smile, Inara knows that Saffron did come for revenge, that she has what she came for now.
Loss of control is a Companion's enemy: Inara knows it, and Saffron knows it better. She's smiling as she leaves, and Inara's fists are clenched, her nails digging into her palms. If that was a game, she just lost it.
Pairing: Saffron/Inara
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Summary: If that was a game, Inara just lost it.
"You got the better of me," Saffron says. "I'd like to know how."
Inara wonders if this is the real Saffron: her eyes flashing a little, her hand on her hip. She seems to be enjoying Inara's surprise -- and Inara knows she shouldn't be surprised by anything Saffron does: she does what she wants and gets where she wants to go -- and she seems to be full of an almost professional curiosity and admiration. "Careful planning," she says, "and your own over-confidence."
"I'll learn not to underestimate my husband in future," Saffron says, and a smile curls her lips; she seems satisfied, now, and amused. Inara rather expected her to remark on the way she left her -- in with the trash, no less. She expected some kind of revenge from Saffron, something more than this cool amusement. She can play this game, though -- she can play any game, once she knows the rules.
"He's not anyone's husband."
"More's the pity," Saffron says. Inara raises an eyebrow, and she elaborates. "For you, I mean. You love him."
"How -- " she starts, and then she stops. Saffron has got a little better at reading her, it seems: so be it. She keeps her eyes on Saffron's face as she takes a step closer, not backing away from the challenge. "Perhaps I do. A man who can get the better of you, though... surely he's worth it."
"Not if he had help from a woman such as you. Besides, you're digressing. You love the man."
Inara can't help but notice how Saffron's voice drips with bitterness, as if there's a sour taste in her mouth where she knows it should be sweet, when she says the word love. "I am a Companion."
"And you like to think you can't be roused unless you want to be -- is that it?"
Inara doesn't answer. She doesn't step back, either, when Saffron takes two quick decisive steps closer and she's there, fingers lifting Inara's chin so that for a moment, their eyes meet. She doesn't even back away when she realises what Saffron is going to do.
Saffron's kiss is eager and passionate and entirely professional. Inara knows this, but somehow she can't stop herself from responding in an entirely unprofessional way, responding to Saffron's fingers tangled in her hair, Saffron's hand curled over her shoulder, keeping her from pulling away. Before Saffron even breaks away with her self-satisfied smile, Inara knows that Saffron did come for revenge, that she has what she came for now.
Loss of control is a Companion's enemy: Inara knows it, and Saffron knows it better. She's smiling as she leaves, and Inara's fists are clenched, her nails digging into her palms. If that was a game, she just lost it.