Post by wordy on Dec 3, 2012 9:06:03 GMT 10
Title: Mindelan
Rating: PG
Prompt: #1 homecoming
Summary: A quiet moment after a night spent with family.
Kel had—by force of habit, she supposed, or by force of Master Oakbridge—grown accustomed to a certain quality of anticipation and fervour surrounding Midwinter. Even during recent years when she had spent the holiday season on duty, tucked away at New Hope, not once had she been able to shake that instinct of gaiety. Gifts exchanged. Heartfelt greetings between friends. A chance to celebrate all that was good, when war and other horrors persisted.
Yet coming home had not, in truth, been Kel’s own idea. Mindelan was little more than a fond memory of her childhood, a place where her family gathered to share the new pieces of their lives. More than anything, home was people.
And at half twelve, when her back was protesting from too many piggyback rides and her head from too much mulled wine, Kel finally shut the door to the room which was no longer her own and took much pleasure in telling Maura, “I told you so.”
Maura waved a lazy hand and curled up on the bed further, toeing off her pretty slippers. She covered a yawn. “You enjoyed it. All those nieces and nephews!”
“We could have had a quiet Midwinter, though. Just the two of us.”
“It is just the two of us, now,” said Maura, sitting up just enough to pull on Kel’s skirts. She smiled. Kel couldn’t help but comply.
Limbs entangled on the too-small bed, silk shifting between them, Kel released a content sigh. The nose tracing its way along her neck was surprisingly warm. She could feel Maura’s breath against her throat.
Kel took the other woman’s face between her hands, thumb brushing the slope of her cheekbone, down to her lips. Maura raised a dark eyebrow. “No mistletoe, Kel? What a vile miser you are.”
She let Kel kiss her anyway.
Rating: PG
Prompt: #1 homecoming
Summary: A quiet moment after a night spent with family.
Kel had—by force of habit, she supposed, or by force of Master Oakbridge—grown accustomed to a certain quality of anticipation and fervour surrounding Midwinter. Even during recent years when she had spent the holiday season on duty, tucked away at New Hope, not once had she been able to shake that instinct of gaiety. Gifts exchanged. Heartfelt greetings between friends. A chance to celebrate all that was good, when war and other horrors persisted.
Yet coming home had not, in truth, been Kel’s own idea. Mindelan was little more than a fond memory of her childhood, a place where her family gathered to share the new pieces of their lives. More than anything, home was people.
And at half twelve, when her back was protesting from too many piggyback rides and her head from too much mulled wine, Kel finally shut the door to the room which was no longer her own and took much pleasure in telling Maura, “I told you so.”
Maura waved a lazy hand and curled up on the bed further, toeing off her pretty slippers. She covered a yawn. “You enjoyed it. All those nieces and nephews!”
“We could have had a quiet Midwinter, though. Just the two of us.”
“It is just the two of us, now,” said Maura, sitting up just enough to pull on Kel’s skirts. She smiled. Kel couldn’t help but comply.
Limbs entangled on the too-small bed, silk shifting between them, Kel released a content sigh. The nose tracing its way along her neck was surprisingly warm. She could feel Maura’s breath against her throat.
Kel took the other woman’s face between her hands, thumb brushing the slope of her cheekbone, down to her lips. Maura raised a dark eyebrow. “No mistletoe, Kel? What a vile miser you are.”
She let Kel kiss her anyway.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!