gettin shippy with it?

[acuition]

Who: the good folks on the caprine
Broadcast: not likely!
Action: for the good folks on the caprine, or anybody visiting.
When: right now? right now!!!

[ Whether you're new to the ship or happy to be back or really mad to be back...you're here. That's what matters.

Because it's a mingle post. You know how it is. ]

Comments

screams

[deshabille]

[In a lot of ways, moments like these are the ones that emphasize most how absolutely inhuman Mal is at her core. She ought to be breathless, bruised-up, bleeding. She isn't. She looks as perfect as though she's just woken up and spent an hour getting ready, precisely as disheveled as she wants to be.]

[And she's grinning. Grinning and laughing, a high and light sound not much like her ordinary low chuckle, because fighting makes her giddy and sometimes, lately, it feels safer to get a little closer to a giggle. With Cassandra, it's safer. Because she can be exactly what she is, even when she doesn't have words to label herself with, and Cassandra likes it anyway.]

[Truly, she's expecting a lecture. Her knuckles have split and knitted up again in minutes, and she's running her fingers through her hair and laughing and just waiting, because she likes the lectures, honestly she does, they make her feel - alive and paid attention to and, and that other thing - but it isn't coming and she likes that, too, she likes everything about this, the way her nerve endings sing after a good fight and she can hear Cassandra's heartbeat on the wind.]

[But then her arm is caught and she looks up, questioning. Sometimes the lecture doesn't happen and something else does instead, and she wants to hear what Cassandra has to say, she does. Every time she does. Except--]

[Cassandra doesn't say anything. She just is, and then is closer, and despite herself and all her hoping Mal freezes and doesn't respond for a long moment because she isn't certain she's not just imagining things. It's been - she was worried she was making mistakes, but Cassandra would have said so, of course, she doesn't stand for less than what she wants.]

[So this is . . . what she wants.]

[That is what makes the tension flow from Mal's shoulders, lets her hands settle at Cassandra's waist and lean in to kiss her back. Finally, finally, they want the same thing.]

[openhands]

[Foolishly, Cassandra worries for that brief moment in which Mal is frozen that perhaps she's made a mistake. But what a stupid thought that is to hold. Of course Mal is going to kiss her back. She's not even remotely surprised once she does, but she does flush a little for ever having the other thought in the first place. Cassandra's hand falls away from Mal's arm to rest at her shoulder and then wrap around her neck. Her other arm holds Mal around her middle. For a brief moment, she's content with just this. There are vague thoughts, wondering why she didn't do this sooner and the like, but for the most part her attention is on Mal and kissing her.]

[Cassandra is the one to break the kiss, her eyes fluttering open once more. For a few seconds, there's a softness to her eyes and she looks at Mal as though she is the most precious thing in this world or any other. Perhaps she is. But the look is gone almost as quickly, replaced instead with that earlier look of wanting to scold and lecture.]

You said there wasn't going to be any trouble tonight.

[deshabille]

[Well, it's a good thing Cassandra's thinking because Mal isn't at all. That's one of the nice things about kissing: you don't really have to think so much, you just have to act and be. So her mind can shut off for a little while.]

[It's . . . sort of a relief. But she's also finding that it's hard to turn it back on. Because Cassandra pulls away a little (not much, but a little) and the look in her eyes is the most beautiful thing Mal's ever seen, probably, and she doesn't even really register that it's directed at her but she thinks sort of vaguely that whatever Cassandra's looking at must be very nice . . .]

[God, she's amazing. Look at her, she's so amazing. Wow. Yikes.]

[What?]

Huh?

[Blink, blink.]

[openhands]

[There's something about the way Mal is looking at her that errs close to the side of being cute. And that's a strange thought to have about Mal. Mal is many things, but cute is not frequently one of them. Huh.]

You said there wasn't going to be any trouble tonight.

[Cassandra repeats, the emphasis placed upon the fact it had been Mal's word. Not that she particularly minds or is overly offended by it, of course. That kiss wouldn't have happened, she wouldn't still be standing here this close to Mal, and she wouldn't still have her hands on Mal if she was bothered by that particular broken promise. If she was, it would be shame on Cassandra, frankly. She should know better. But Mal still might as well be a little more forthcoming about her desire to cause trouble.]

[deshabille]

Oh. I did, didn't I . . .

[Now that she actually hears what Cassandra is saying, she sort of feels bad about it. Not much, but more bad than not bad at all. She doesn't want to make Cassandra have a difficult time, because Cassandra is - important, and - yes. She's really very very important.]

[What was she going to say? Oh, yes.]

Sorry. [And it really does sound like she means it, because for once she really does.] I got a bit - carried away. Mm.

[Because certain people are very distracted and get her excited just by being there and make her feel the need to move. But it's still her fault and she knows it.]

Sorry, [she says again.] We can go somewhere else if you want. No trouble this time. Promise.

[openhands]

[Cassandra arches a brow at "a bit." A bit. She'd hate to see more than just a bit then, she thinks, but doesn't say aloud.]

No, [she says with a small shake of her head.] I think I've had my fill of taverns for the evening.

[Some place a little more private would actually be better. More private and altogether quieter. It will be easier for Mal to keep that promise. Hopefully.]