[FE] Champagne and Guns III
Nov. 11th, 2008 11:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
runespoorTitle: Champagne and Guns III
Character/Pairing: Sothe, Micaiah (Sothe/Micaiah)
Rating: PG
Summary: 1920s AU.
Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
31_days. Short. Again with the lack of spoilers. Previous parts here and here.
Thrown over the arm of the couch, Micaiah's feet are swinging, unhurried. Her head is tossed back, staring at the ceiling. Regularly, her languid hand carries her cigarette holder to her lips and she takes a pensive puff. The smoke hangs in a halo around the sofa, its muted glow reflected on her hair.
She's only wearing stockings, the silk of which slides over the beaten velvet of their couch, with a soothing, insistent whisper, and a shirt.
One of his shirts.
It's several sizes too big for her; when her arm raises to let her take a drag from her cigarette, the sleeve falls back to the elbow, uncovering the mark on the back of her hand.
It distracts him from his newspaper. Senator Tanas tends to be better known for the gossip associated to his name than for his ground-breaking declarations anyway. At least not those declarations that aren't linked to the gossip.
It's a quiet evening for them.
Tonight they decided they were going to stay in, after coming back home at an hour when workers were already gone to the factories – half past six, more like seven – and sleeping in until four.
Micaiah doesn't believe in taking a day off, so Sothe knows to make her enjoy it while he could. Even he's at best ambivalent about the event that prompted it. Yesterday Laura was released; though not, it turned out, through Jarod's intervention.
Apparently the young cop Sothe noticed at the police station was a childhood friend, and when he learned she was imprisoned he got her to escape. So Micaiah had to arrange a hiding place for him, where he wouldn't be bothered by his ex-colleagues. Meaning that Micaiah had sex with Jarod for nothing.
Not much use brooding. They got Laura back. The end.
Micaiah exhales a long ribbon of smoke. It propels itself straight out of her mouth but quickly its edges fray and dissipate, and its end flutters into a curl.
“I'm thinking of expanding,” she says conversationally.
At first he wants to object that her current turf is still too recent to stretch their forces thin. She'd make herself into a target. More of one. But when he tries to come up with the arguments to dissuade her he's surprised to realize that it's been a while since her last move. And they haven't had any major problem, except for that one incident near the beginning, and then – well. Laura getting nailed by the cops.
Bad publicity, even if Micaiah did manage to get Laura back. She must want to make herself look more threatening. So others won't think she'd be easy to take.
He contemplates.
“You got something in mind?”
A thin smile cuts across her vague expression. She extends a lazy arm toward a crumbling pile of papers on the desk, pointing with her cigarette holder.
On top of the pile is a small business card. The Marado, it reads in curly gild.
“Uh,” he says. “It's one of the best speakeasies in town.”
He keeps his tone neutral.
Micaiah takes another long, slow drag from the cigarette, and flicks her wrist, letting the cinders fall wherever. Then she flings her legs back and ambles to the door, where she pauses with her hand on the door frame to look back at him.
“Are you coming? We've got a restaurant to visit.”
Her expression is open and not at all worried. The smile has been replaced by intent. She's waiting for him.
He nods.
"Yeah," he answers. Of course.
Character/Pairing: Sothe, Micaiah (Sothe/Micaiah)
Rating: PG
Summary: 1920s AU.
Notes: Written for
31_days. Short. Again with the lack of spoilers. Previous parts here and here. Thrown over the arm of the couch, Micaiah's feet are swinging, unhurried. Her head is tossed back, staring at the ceiling. Regularly, her languid hand carries her cigarette holder to her lips and she takes a pensive puff. The smoke hangs in a halo around the sofa, its muted glow reflected on her hair.
She's only wearing stockings, the silk of which slides over the beaten velvet of their couch, with a soothing, insistent whisper, and a shirt.
One of his shirts.
It's several sizes too big for her; when her arm raises to let her take a drag from her cigarette, the sleeve falls back to the elbow, uncovering the mark on the back of her hand.
It distracts him from his newspaper. Senator Tanas tends to be better known for the gossip associated to his name than for his ground-breaking declarations anyway. At least not those declarations that aren't linked to the gossip.
It's a quiet evening for them.
Tonight they decided they were going to stay in, after coming back home at an hour when workers were already gone to the factories – half past six, more like seven – and sleeping in until four.
Micaiah doesn't believe in taking a day off, so Sothe knows to make her enjoy it while he could. Even he's at best ambivalent about the event that prompted it. Yesterday Laura was released; though not, it turned out, through Jarod's intervention.
Apparently the young cop Sothe noticed at the police station was a childhood friend, and when he learned she was imprisoned he got her to escape. So Micaiah had to arrange a hiding place for him, where he wouldn't be bothered by his ex-colleagues. Meaning that Micaiah had sex with Jarod for nothing.
Not much use brooding. They got Laura back. The end.
Micaiah exhales a long ribbon of smoke. It propels itself straight out of her mouth but quickly its edges fray and dissipate, and its end flutters into a curl.
“I'm thinking of expanding,” she says conversationally.
At first he wants to object that her current turf is still too recent to stretch their forces thin. She'd make herself into a target. More of one. But when he tries to come up with the arguments to dissuade her he's surprised to realize that it's been a while since her last move. And they haven't had any major problem, except for that one incident near the beginning, and then – well. Laura getting nailed by the cops.
Bad publicity, even if Micaiah did manage to get Laura back. She must want to make herself look more threatening. So others won't think she'd be easy to take.
He contemplates.
“You got something in mind?”
A thin smile cuts across her vague expression. She extends a lazy arm toward a crumbling pile of papers on the desk, pointing with her cigarette holder.
On top of the pile is a small business card. The Marado, it reads in curly gild.
“Uh,” he says. “It's one of the best speakeasies in town.”
He keeps his tone neutral.
Micaiah takes another long, slow drag from the cigarette, and flicks her wrist, letting the cinders fall wherever. Then she flings her legs back and ambles to the door, where she pauses with her hand on the door frame to look back at him.
“Are you coming? We've got a restaurant to visit.”
Her expression is open and not at all worried. The smile has been replaced by intent. She's waiting for him.
He nods.
"Yeah," he answers. Of course.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-11-13 03:10 am (UTC)Nice how you worked that in. XD
What inspired this wonderful AU candy? I love it so much~
no subject
Date: 2008-11-17 12:00 pm (UTC)I mainly did because I needed for Sothe to read about something in the newspaper, and it being Oliver means I didn't have to come up with politics.
Yet.If you mean this particular fragment, it was because I had this image of Micaiah and I really wanted to write it. I'm so glad you think it was hot. u_u