shiegra (shiegra) wrote in no_true_pair, @ 2008-06-24 22:38:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! 2008 twelve characters challenge, author: shiegra, fandom: d.gray-man, pairing: moore/rinali |
D.Grayman, Moore Hesse/Rinali Li, "What Good Girls Do With Pastries"
Title: What Good Girls Do With Pastries
Author/Artist: shiegra
Fandom: D.Grayman
Pairing/characters: Moore Hesse/Rinali Li
Rating: PG13/R
Prompt/challenge you're answering:* Moore Hesse/Rinali, food kink
They landed in the kitchen.
It wasn’t her fault, Rinali would insist demurely later. The force of the attack had necessitated equally forceful retaliation, and the retreat had demanded an unexpected velocity from the retreaters. The roof was too thin. The food was left unattended.
Moore Hesse sat primly on the chair beside her, hair wrapped up behind her head and glasses pushed up her nose, and raised her eyebrows dryly whenever questioned. They had insisted that the two women clean up before facing the inquisitors.
Also get dressed, but that was another matter.
Moore would have preferred working with Allen Walker. She knew him; she was familiar with him, maybe even friends.
But the girl she was assigned to was perfectly polite and did her best not to completely leave her out of the loop; Rinali Li, with her powerful legs and gracious smile, was a good partner to have. They got used to each other.
And Moore was smart enough to know not to get in her way. She did the ground work, the human work and the investigative work. Rinali took the battlefield.
So when the battlefield was taken to them, things took on an unfamiliarly problematic cast.
The window blew out and Rinali’s hands were locked under her arms, hauling and the wind tore at them both, hurtling into the shock-blue sky and empty scraps of clouds too far above. The Akuma reacted, pocked gray maneuvering free of the building. It was only a level one, normally it would be brutally easy to dispatch of but Rinali was burdened by Moore, keeping them both aloft and searching for a place to set down.
“There—” Moore said, voice thin and tight as she pointed. “Skylight.”
“Too dangerous.” Rinali answered sharply, and then hissed as bullets riddled the face of a building. “Never mind, we’ll have to, watch out—”
Moore hit the roof rolling, scrabbled at tar with her nails and slammed her heels in to stop the tumbling fall. Her hip fetched up against the steel frame of the skylight and she bit back a shriek of pain, knew that she’d earned a nasty bruise with she hadn’t broken something, and pulled at screws with numb fingers before giving up and drawing the gun.
It took two bullets to shatter—listening tensely to the rising dragon’s-roar of Rinali’s wind above—and then she dropped down, carefully aiming to avoid the broken glass.
Unfortunately, she landed in a stack of boxes and, as she flailed and sank in sticky sugary sauces, flung out a hand and knocked a bowl of neatly wrapped candies all over herself in the floor. Her cursing colored the air a distinctly undelicate flavor, and she clawed hair out of her eyes, shook excess icing from her fingers, and listened to the grinding death throes of the Akuma with no small amount of bitter satisfaction.
“Damnit,” she said as Rinali ghosted down through the shattered skylight, her eyes slowly widening. “I missed. Oh, for—can you see my glasses?”
Rinali came closer, a sleek black shape with a faint smile, and handed them over. They were smeared with blue and white icing and Moore hissed with exasperation.
“It’s all right.” Rinali said softly, very close. This near Rinali could see her clearly, and her long dark hair fell over her shoulder to stroke over Moore’s cheek and shoulder.
“You’re—you’re getting icing on you.” She said blankly, and Rinali leaned in further, pupils dilating.
“It’s all right.” She repeated. “I like sugar.” And then she kissed her.
If they’d been interrupted there—her lips soft and smeared with icing, Moore’s hands awkward and frozen in the air, Rinali breathing slow and deep—it would have been all right; easily brushed off and separated at the first sound of the opening door.
But they weren’t. And Moore answered the kiss, and the door only opened by the time she’d peeled open that convenient zipper and was licking icing off of Rinali’s collarbone and heading down.
By the time they left the town—never quite bothering to explain themselves to the resident exorcist branch—the officials there would never know how close Rinali came to agreeing to let Moore just shoot them all.