dejah_thoris | [milliways] Run Home

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[milliways] Run Home

After their run around the lake was ended by meeting Curtis's unfortunate partner in the whole body swap debacle, Dejah headed back to the room for a good long shower. It was pure indulgence, standing under the hot water for so long, but she was allowed. Here, anyway. She'd be extremely mindful of bringing these bad habits back to Helium with her.

Her mind keeps going over the implications of Curtis having a double here. A doppelganger who is genetically enhanced somehow. Healthy and whole. It makes her wonder if she's not doing enough to make sure he's healing. Replacing the arm was one thing, but an extended period of malnutrition and captivity left other physical scars.

It is all a work in progress, one that will take many years to see gains. Much like the Work back in Helium. She makes a mental note to research the drawings he'd spoken of. If there is any record of all of his time on the train, surely the library here will have it preserved. Maybe something to help Edgar understand the whole picture. Even if he can never forgive, the least he can do is to try to understand it.

She steps out of the shower and towels off, still turning over the human ideals of morality, of fairness and justice. She tries to put the thoughts aside for now, knowing full well, she can easily drive herself mad if she doesn't. Instead, she dries her hair and tries to clear her mind.

And not think about random magical spells that could rip her consciousness from her body and put into another's. Yeah, comforting.

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Her joy buoys him up; he's already starting to chuckle before she's even halfway through that ramble. Curtis drops a kiss on her forehead.

"I think it's cute," he says, serene. "Yeah, Bar's got everything, I bet she could loan us a suit and a dress."

Not too Front. Another bubble of relief rises. Nice, but not too stifling. Maybe it'll be good practice for whenever he's doing this shit for real on Barsoom.

She leans into the kiss, laughing under her breath at herself.

"I'm sorry, these things -- in Helium, they are a rather big deal. Being present in public. It would take weeks of preparation. There would be dignitaries from all the city-states. The whole of Helium would grind to a halt for a festival like this."

She takes a deep breath and lets it go. "Are you sure you're all right with this?"

"I'm sure."

It's been...god, probably weeks since he felt this kind of fizzy joy overtake Dejah. They've been dealing with one damn thing after another for way too long. They're overdue for some fun -- even if it's the kind of fun that's going to stick Curtis in a suit.

Straight-faced: "We need to win the shit out of that golden apple."

Edited 2015-11-20 03:35 (UTC)

That gets a full-throated belly laugh from Dejah. "I like this plan, but I have no idea how we're going to do it! Formal dancing on Barsoom is -- very sedate. And the less formal dancing, well..." She wrinkles her nose in a conspiratorial grin.

"It gets a little wild, if I must say."

"Really."

He arches an eyebrow, struggling not to laugh.

"Can you teach me?"

She bites her lower lip and dips her chin, her own eyebrows drawing high.

"If you promise not to laugh. I may be a little rusty."

Her hands slip around his waist and she places a very gentle kiss just in front of his ear.

"And after, maybe we can go walking in the surf?"

"Mm." His smile grows. "Is the water still warm this time of year?"

Even if it's not, he'll dip a couple toes in for her.

"Oh yes, have you not been to the Caribbean inlet?" She pulls back to look at him, eyes wide.

"It's another of these magical anomalies. There's a whole separate and static microclimate. The waters are warm and clear, the sand is a pure white, it's simply beautiful." She's wanted to take him there for months, but the timing was never quite right.

"Huh."

That sounds vaguely familiar -- either someone's told him about it, he's overheard someone else talking about it, or...

Sheepish, "If I've gone there already, I forgot about it."

There's a prickle of concern about his memory, but it disappears in the wash of her anticipation.

"No matter. We'll go and after the dancing? We'll go for a walk by the sea." The last word rings with a certain quality. The very idea of a sea is holy to her. And to share this with him? It makes her light-headed, almost giddy.

"I've been wanting to share that with you. For awhile now. I just -- we never seemed to get a chance to relax. Things have been so..." Her words taper off, and she shakes her head.

Her concern vanishes so quickly that it's easy to brush aside. Good.

"Shitty?" he offers, quiet and more rueful. "Yeah."

A brief sigh.

"Maybe this'll help calm things down. A little."

It's still there. She's noticed his comments, his general distrust of his memory in the past. There's simply nothing she can do about it in the moment. In her life, triage of such things is second nature.

"Well, if not calm them then -- distract us for a little while. The priestess at the temple likes to remind me, one must feed and rest the spirit the same way one feeds the body." She gives him a crooked grin. "This counts, I think?"

"Definitely counts," he murmurs, leaning to kiss her forehead. "We're both allowed to have fun sometimes."

Curtis eyes the flyer again.

"I could go get the suit now...?"

She leans into his kiss. When he pulls back, he sees that quiet, gleeful grin again. She nods, excitement blowing through her like a warm wind.

"I'll only need a few minutes, I'm sure. I can be ready by the time you get back."

He can't help but return the grin as that warmth brushes past, catching him up in her excitement. "All right."

Okay, one more kiss before he goes. He intends for it to be quick, but once their lips meet...nah, he can linger a little. Just a bit.

Okay, more than a bit.

Oh.

For a brief moment in time, everything slows down. All she knows is the taste of his lips, the scent of his skin. She can feel the low throb of his desire, always present, always banked, like embers, ready to roar to life with just the barest breath.

A deep shiver runs down her spine, her own heart's longing resonating in kind. They have this. This moment. This one precious moment. She can make do with this.

When it's just them in this quiet space, nothing but touch and taste and scent, it's even easier for Curtis to forget. He doesn't have to think at all. They move in and out of the moment together, carried on the pulse of their heartbeats, until the kiss draws to a close like the soft descent of a curtain.

Curtis breathes out. Breathes in. Opens his eyes.

"Be back soon," he whispers, and squeezes her hands before reluctantly pulling away.

She shares his breath, her eyes closed, her heart open wide. She opens her eyes at his whisper and watches him, blue fire rimming her pupils.

"Don't be gone long," she teases, her voice pitched low. "I'll send out a search party, I will."

Curtis snorts a laugh. "Ten minutes, tops," he promises as he slides off the couch; caught in her eyes, it takes an extra second before he manages to look away.

Back to the door, then, and back down to the bar.

(He opts to take the elevator this time.)

Dejah is in motion the moment he's gone. "Do not fail me now, Magic Bar," she mutters, heading for the wardrobe.

The bar, it must be said, does not blanch in the face of fashion emergencies. She opens the door to the old wardrobe, and draws a deep breath in appreciation.

In a few minutes, she's changed, brushed her hair out and pulled it up off her neck, pinning it up with a few simple gold pins. She decides to forego the light crown she usually wears. It's simply too much.

She's dressed for more important occasions on less notice, but never with so little help. A little kohl around her eyes, a bit of her favourite perfume, the one she saves for the days when she feels especially indulgent.

She's still in the bathroom when he comes back.

Knock-knock-knock: he raps on the doorframe of the bathroom.

"Hey, okay if I come in?"

Bar presented the suit on a hanger, rather than the neatly-folded bundles she's given him in the past. He's got it draped awkwardly over his metal arm, held out from himself like it's going to catch fire if he looks at it the wrong way. Changing downstairs, then walking all the way through the bar, a couple hallways, and an elevator? Hell no. Curtis will get ready somewhere with a modicum of privacy, thanks.

"Please, by all means." He's always been welcome in her rooms. Even this one.

She's still in front of the mirror, fiddling with her hair, trying to get it just so. The dress she's wearing seems tailor-made for her, the soft sea foam green a lovely contrast to her copper skin and dark clan markings. All of which are visible through the sheer fabric.

"Do you need me to step out?"

"No, it's..."

Curtis trails off. His arm falls slack; he comes back to himself as the suit does a dangerous slide toward the floor, and fumbles it back into both arms as he keeps staring at Dejah.

"Wow."

Edited 2015-11-22 23:24 (UTC)

She looks up at him, wide-eyed, then down at herself and back to him.

"It's not too much, is it?"

"No, it's...it's good."

Wow.

He clutches the suit to his chest, more or less on reflex. Softer, "You look amazing."

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