Post by greenie on Jul 6, 2010 22:48:26 GMT 10
Title: Canoodling on Duty
Rating: R
Length: 1824 words
Original and Subsequent Haunts: Goldenlake, Piercefic, and TKO.
Summary: Goodwin and Tunstall find themselves in unexpected difficulty and in urgent need of a cover story. Set about eight years before Terrier.
Notes: Goodwin/Tunstall, originally written for the Peculiar Pairings Ficathon.
“Finally, they’re finished,” murmured Mattes. “I’m half starved.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Clary retorted. “I’ve had to listen to your belly rumbling for the last hour.”
He opened his mouth to reply when her hand clamped down on his arm. “They’re coming this way,” she hissed.
Mattes frowned, his brown eyes worried. “Pepperell said they wouldn’t.”
“Well they are, pox rot them,” she snapped. “They’re coming from both sides and we’re trapped in the middle. If we get out of this alive, I’ll make his sarden tongue into a belt-pouch, the fen-sucked scut.”
“Focus on getting out alive first,” he told her. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her into a small side alley. “Maybe they won’t spot us if we’re in the shadows.”
“Are you cracknobbed? We can’t fight our way out from here, you looby, they’ll block us in and kill us! ”
“We were trapped anyway,” he pointed out. “It’s better than staying out there, they were certain to find us.”
Clary crossed her arms and glared at him. “And what reason have we got to give for standing in the shadows in this stinking alley?”
Mattes shrugged. “I’m thinking.”
“Think a bit sarden faster, they’re almost here!”
“Beat me up later,” Mattes told her. Before Clary had time to wonder why he’d said it, he’d picked her up, pressed her up against the wall, and kissed her. A furiously muttered string of curses tumbled out of her mouth when he drew back for air. “Well, I didn’t see you coming up with anything better,” he pointed out.
“Are you really that desperate for a mot?” She couldn’t hear his usual deep rumble of a laugh, but she could feel it. “Cracknobbed barbarian,” she muttered.
“We’ve got company,” he whispered, hearing movement at a distance behind him, and he leaned forwards and kissed her again.
Clary closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, trying not to think about what was growing on the damp wall behind her and what it would do to her uniform. Of course, thinking about that was still better than thinking about kissing her partner. At least Mattes could kiss a mot well, she thought. Not that Tom couldn’t, they were just…different. Now Clary could certainly understand why Mattes was well liked by the mots. She shifted her grip on his tunic and forced all thoughts of kissing out of her mind, focussing instead on listening for movement nearby.
“You were right before, that apple pasty you ate did taste delicious,” he whispered the next time they parted. “Deidre Noll really does make the best pasties in Corus.”
“You’re sarden revolting,” she complained. Now that he mentioned it, she could taste the raisin patties he’d eaten earlier. “I don’t get paid enough,” she muttered. Clary looked over his shoulder out of the corner of her eye. “They’re just standing there watching us. Have they not got anything better to do?”
“Apparently not.” His face was distractingly close to hers, their foreheads almost touching. “Are you ready to do some Playing?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. If I wasn’t Playing along with you already, I’d have kicked your sarden bum between your sarden ears.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
His body pressed against hers with even more pressure, completely pinning her against the wall. Clary realised her feet weren’t touching the ground, so she wrapped her legs around him. Not only did it look the part, but she could kick out if she needed to and it meant Mattes wasn’t completely defenseless. At the same time, she felt his hand sliding under the edge of her tunic to her hip and resting on one of the hidden knives she had there. Clary inhaled sharply at the cold touch of his hand against her skin, and Mattes chuckled. His other hand settled on her waist, and this time it was her that stretched up to press her lips to his. Her heart was thudding and there were butterflies in her stomach. She hoped he wouldn’t notice; she wasn’t sure she could even convince herself that it was purely from fear.
They were both gasping for breath when they broke apart this time. Mattes started planting light kisses along the side of her jaw, and Clary tilted back her head to let him.
“Oh Matty, that feels wonderful,” she exclaimed, and deliberately let her voice carry.
His mouth was right beside her ear. “Matty?” She flashed him a grin when he pulled back a little, her deep brown eyes dancing. “You call me Matty one more time and I’ll make you regret it.”
He leaned forward and began kissing her neck. Clary hoped he wouldn’t leave any marks there in revenge... although she probably would have if she were in his place. Tom would find the story entertaining, but if everyone at the kennel saw marks that weren’t there at the start of watch they’d never let them live it down. Clary wondered what he would do if she called him Matty again. Part of her dreaded the thought of his hands travelling up underneath the front of her tunic, brushing over her skin and coming into contact with her breastband. She shivered and tried to ignore the other half of her, the half that was urging her to call him Matty again now, just to see…
Her mind was acutely aware of his lips on her neck, his large hand on her hip, the way that his chest pressed up against hers. She breathed in deeply, her mind comparing his scent to the sweet smell of sawdust that always lingered on Tomlan. “What?” she murmured, realising he had spoken. She silently cursed at herself for losing her concentration. She should have been listening out for movements and watching from the corner of her eye – Mattes was relying on her. Of course, it was his fault for causing such a distraction…
“Are they still there?” Mattes repeated.
She gave an audible moan and let her head fall back, her eyes closed. “Do that again, Matty. It felt nice,” she said, deliberately making her voice husky.
“I’ll get you for that,” he murmured, his lips tickling her skin.
She giggled and peeked through her lashes, seeing that they still had their audience. “Oh yes. Right there, Matty, yes.”
“Pox and murrain,” he muttered, understanding what she was telling him.
His hand slid from her waist to the small of her back and found the knife that was hidden there. “Oh, my beautiful Clara, your skin is so velvety and smooth.” He ran his fingers over her skin and she gave him a look. Mattes gave her a wicked grin as his other hand slid deliciously from her hip to underneath her thigh. This was his revenge, then.
Well, two could play at that game. Clary kissed him again and bit his lip, quite a bit harder than what might have been necessary. She found herself almost disappointed when Mattes didn’t retaliate, although she knew that he’d have let her win sooner or later anyway. She avoided thinking about what he might’ve done, and instead pulled his tunic out from his belt.
Clary was running her hands up his back when Mattes whispered “Take it off.”
Her face turned up to his and she raised an eyebrow. “Mine’s staying on.”
He laughed softly, a low rumble, and removed his hands from her body. “I never said anything about yours.”
“Good,” she replied, and tugged his tunic over his head. “It’s on your left side, in case you need it,” she whispered, and she dropped it onto the ground.
They kissed again, her hands now running freely over the bare skin of his back. Just as she was starting to wonder how far they were going to have to go and how else they could get out she heard a voice speaking out loud.
“Why aren’t ye all doing what ye were assigned to? What’s the holdup?”
Other voices began to speak up. “Couple of Dogs canoodling on duty.”
“S’not often we git free shows like this.”
“We can thank the lazy scuts like them for our success.” This was met with laughter from the other Rats.
“Stop wastin’ yer time,” said the first voice. “Do ye want the boss to find out what ye’re all doing? Clear off now, or I’ll send for him and his guards.”
They could hear the Rats moving off, their feet shuffling on the cobblestones amidst plenty of grumbling.
“It was just startin’ to get good too.”
“S’not fair, it wouldn’ta mattered if we’d stayed a bit longer.”
“She was going to take her tunic off next, I know she was.”
“Hey, I recognise that mot Dog,” said one voice.
“I’ve seen them both before,” replied another. “Always thought the bitch could do with a good swivin’.”
Clary stiffened, every muscle in her body tense. “Easy, Clary,” warned Mattes softly. He moved one large hand up to cup the side of her face. “They’re going.”
“I know,” she hissed. “I’m not a looby.” She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his, listening hard as the Rats left.
After several minutes of silence Clary opened her eyes again, taking care to look from the corners of her eyes before looking directly at the entrance to the alleyway. “I’m fairly certain they’re all gone,” she whispered.
The two of them stayed locked in their embrace for a couple more minutes, just to be on the safe side. It was Clary who decided they were obviously fine; she unwrapped her legs from around his body and shoved him away from her. She’d forgotten that her feet couldn’t reach the ground and stumbled as she landed, her legs stiff from being locked around him. Fortunately Mattes didn’t see; he was too busy trying to discreetly rearrange his breeches. She made a big show of spitting on the ground and Mattes chuckled. “You can stop the Playing now, Clary.”
“Of all the sarden stupid plans I’ve ever heard of, that was about the worst,” she snapped.
“It worked, didn’t it? I thought it was brilliant.”
It was brilliant, but that wasn’t the point. “Don’t you dare tell anyone. Not a single person, understand? We’ll tell the others that we managed to get out just moments before we would’ve been trapped. I’m certainly not going to sit there while you tell everyone about it in the Magistrate’s Court.”
“But it worked. We should be showing all the other Dogs how to do it, I think we’d make very good teachers.”
She glared at him, knowing he was teasing her, and changed the subject to the one thing that always worked with him. “Let’s go and find some food.”
“Let’s go back to Deirdre.” He grinned wickedly and dodged her kick before it landed on his ankle. “You’ve worked up my appetite for her apple pasties.”
Rating: R
Length: 1824 words
Original and Subsequent Haunts: Goldenlake, Piercefic, and TKO.
Summary: Goodwin and Tunstall find themselves in unexpected difficulty and in urgent need of a cover story. Set about eight years before Terrier.
Notes: Goodwin/Tunstall, originally written for the Peculiar Pairings Ficathon.
“Finally, they’re finished,” murmured Mattes. “I’m half starved.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Clary retorted. “I’ve had to listen to your belly rumbling for the last hour.”
He opened his mouth to reply when her hand clamped down on his arm. “They’re coming this way,” she hissed.
Mattes frowned, his brown eyes worried. “Pepperell said they wouldn’t.”
“Well they are, pox rot them,” she snapped. “They’re coming from both sides and we’re trapped in the middle. If we get out of this alive, I’ll make his sarden tongue into a belt-pouch, the fen-sucked scut.”
“Focus on getting out alive first,” he told her. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her into a small side alley. “Maybe they won’t spot us if we’re in the shadows.”
“Are you cracknobbed? We can’t fight our way out from here, you looby, they’ll block us in and kill us! ”
“We were trapped anyway,” he pointed out. “It’s better than staying out there, they were certain to find us.”
Clary crossed her arms and glared at him. “And what reason have we got to give for standing in the shadows in this stinking alley?”
Mattes shrugged. “I’m thinking.”
“Think a bit sarden faster, they’re almost here!”
“Beat me up later,” Mattes told her. Before Clary had time to wonder why he’d said it, he’d picked her up, pressed her up against the wall, and kissed her. A furiously muttered string of curses tumbled out of her mouth when he drew back for air. “Well, I didn’t see you coming up with anything better,” he pointed out.
“Are you really that desperate for a mot?” She couldn’t hear his usual deep rumble of a laugh, but she could feel it. “Cracknobbed barbarian,” she muttered.
“We’ve got company,” he whispered, hearing movement at a distance behind him, and he leaned forwards and kissed her again.
Clary closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, trying not to think about what was growing on the damp wall behind her and what it would do to her uniform. Of course, thinking about that was still better than thinking about kissing her partner. At least Mattes could kiss a mot well, she thought. Not that Tom couldn’t, they were just…different. Now Clary could certainly understand why Mattes was well liked by the mots. She shifted her grip on his tunic and forced all thoughts of kissing out of her mind, focussing instead on listening for movement nearby.
“You were right before, that apple pasty you ate did taste delicious,” he whispered the next time they parted. “Deidre Noll really does make the best pasties in Corus.”
“You’re sarden revolting,” she complained. Now that he mentioned it, she could taste the raisin patties he’d eaten earlier. “I don’t get paid enough,” she muttered. Clary looked over his shoulder out of the corner of her eye. “They’re just standing there watching us. Have they not got anything better to do?”
“Apparently not.” His face was distractingly close to hers, their foreheads almost touching. “Are you ready to do some Playing?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. If I wasn’t Playing along with you already, I’d have kicked your sarden bum between your sarden ears.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
His body pressed against hers with even more pressure, completely pinning her against the wall. Clary realised her feet weren’t touching the ground, so she wrapped her legs around him. Not only did it look the part, but she could kick out if she needed to and it meant Mattes wasn’t completely defenseless. At the same time, she felt his hand sliding under the edge of her tunic to her hip and resting on one of the hidden knives she had there. Clary inhaled sharply at the cold touch of his hand against her skin, and Mattes chuckled. His other hand settled on her waist, and this time it was her that stretched up to press her lips to his. Her heart was thudding and there were butterflies in her stomach. She hoped he wouldn’t notice; she wasn’t sure she could even convince herself that it was purely from fear.
They were both gasping for breath when they broke apart this time. Mattes started planting light kisses along the side of her jaw, and Clary tilted back her head to let him.
“Oh Matty, that feels wonderful,” she exclaimed, and deliberately let her voice carry.
His mouth was right beside her ear. “Matty?” She flashed him a grin when he pulled back a little, her deep brown eyes dancing. “You call me Matty one more time and I’ll make you regret it.”
He leaned forward and began kissing her neck. Clary hoped he wouldn’t leave any marks there in revenge... although she probably would have if she were in his place. Tom would find the story entertaining, but if everyone at the kennel saw marks that weren’t there at the start of watch they’d never let them live it down. Clary wondered what he would do if she called him Matty again. Part of her dreaded the thought of his hands travelling up underneath the front of her tunic, brushing over her skin and coming into contact with her breastband. She shivered and tried to ignore the other half of her, the half that was urging her to call him Matty again now, just to see…
Her mind was acutely aware of his lips on her neck, his large hand on her hip, the way that his chest pressed up against hers. She breathed in deeply, her mind comparing his scent to the sweet smell of sawdust that always lingered on Tomlan. “What?” she murmured, realising he had spoken. She silently cursed at herself for losing her concentration. She should have been listening out for movements and watching from the corner of her eye – Mattes was relying on her. Of course, it was his fault for causing such a distraction…
“Are they still there?” Mattes repeated.
She gave an audible moan and let her head fall back, her eyes closed. “Do that again, Matty. It felt nice,” she said, deliberately making her voice husky.
“I’ll get you for that,” he murmured, his lips tickling her skin.
She giggled and peeked through her lashes, seeing that they still had their audience. “Oh yes. Right there, Matty, yes.”
“Pox and murrain,” he muttered, understanding what she was telling him.
His hand slid from her waist to the small of her back and found the knife that was hidden there. “Oh, my beautiful Clara, your skin is so velvety and smooth.” He ran his fingers over her skin and she gave him a look. Mattes gave her a wicked grin as his other hand slid deliciously from her hip to underneath her thigh. This was his revenge, then.
Well, two could play at that game. Clary kissed him again and bit his lip, quite a bit harder than what might have been necessary. She found herself almost disappointed when Mattes didn’t retaliate, although she knew that he’d have let her win sooner or later anyway. She avoided thinking about what he might’ve done, and instead pulled his tunic out from his belt.
Clary was running her hands up his back when Mattes whispered “Take it off.”
Her face turned up to his and she raised an eyebrow. “Mine’s staying on.”
He laughed softly, a low rumble, and removed his hands from her body. “I never said anything about yours.”
“Good,” she replied, and tugged his tunic over his head. “It’s on your left side, in case you need it,” she whispered, and she dropped it onto the ground.
They kissed again, her hands now running freely over the bare skin of his back. Just as she was starting to wonder how far they were going to have to go and how else they could get out she heard a voice speaking out loud.
“Why aren’t ye all doing what ye were assigned to? What’s the holdup?”
Other voices began to speak up. “Couple of Dogs canoodling on duty.”
“S’not often we git free shows like this.”
“We can thank the lazy scuts like them for our success.” This was met with laughter from the other Rats.
“Stop wastin’ yer time,” said the first voice. “Do ye want the boss to find out what ye’re all doing? Clear off now, or I’ll send for him and his guards.”
They could hear the Rats moving off, their feet shuffling on the cobblestones amidst plenty of grumbling.
“It was just startin’ to get good too.”
“S’not fair, it wouldn’ta mattered if we’d stayed a bit longer.”
“She was going to take her tunic off next, I know she was.”
“Hey, I recognise that mot Dog,” said one voice.
“I’ve seen them both before,” replied another. “Always thought the bitch could do with a good swivin’.”
Clary stiffened, every muscle in her body tense. “Easy, Clary,” warned Mattes softly. He moved one large hand up to cup the side of her face. “They’re going.”
“I know,” she hissed. “I’m not a looby.” She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his, listening hard as the Rats left.
After several minutes of silence Clary opened her eyes again, taking care to look from the corners of her eyes before looking directly at the entrance to the alleyway. “I’m fairly certain they’re all gone,” she whispered.
The two of them stayed locked in their embrace for a couple more minutes, just to be on the safe side. It was Clary who decided they were obviously fine; she unwrapped her legs from around his body and shoved him away from her. She’d forgotten that her feet couldn’t reach the ground and stumbled as she landed, her legs stiff from being locked around him. Fortunately Mattes didn’t see; he was too busy trying to discreetly rearrange his breeches. She made a big show of spitting on the ground and Mattes chuckled. “You can stop the Playing now, Clary.”
“Of all the sarden stupid plans I’ve ever heard of, that was about the worst,” she snapped.
“It worked, didn’t it? I thought it was brilliant.”
It was brilliant, but that wasn’t the point. “Don’t you dare tell anyone. Not a single person, understand? We’ll tell the others that we managed to get out just moments before we would’ve been trapped. I’m certainly not going to sit there while you tell everyone about it in the Magistrate’s Court.”
“But it worked. We should be showing all the other Dogs how to do it, I think we’d make very good teachers.”
She glared at him, knowing he was teasing her, and changed the subject to the one thing that always worked with him. “Let’s go and find some food.”
“Let’s go back to Deirdre.” He grinned wickedly and dodged her kick before it landed on his ankle. “You’ve worked up my appetite for her apple pasties.”