Look For Her
Oct. 23rd, 2006 04:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
browncoat2x2Title: Look For Her
By: 2x2
Word Count: 482
Spoilers: Allusions to Heart of Gold
Rating: PG
A/N: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
agent_rouka’s prompt: Inara/Other – “Extraordinary in some way” (as in female clients tend to be)
Sorry it's not quite what you asked for, darlin'... It’s not quite what I intended to write either, but the idea took over.
The soft glow of golden candle light flickers over pale skin, the gentle curve giving way to sharper planes beneath her fingers; soft and soothing on the down stroke, firmer on the up sweep, losing herself in smooth, silky feel of her memory.
It’s rare for her to take a woman as a client. She hears proposals often enough, but there are certain things – criteria – that she looks for in each of them, and it is that which keeps them so few and far between.
The last one had something familiar in her smile. The one before that had her determination and wild spirit. The one before that, her eyes.
This one has her hair.
Nandi’s voice comes to her then, unbidden and full of gently mocking laughter. ‘My hair,’ she says ‘looked nothing like that.’
‘The colour,’ Inara replies in her mind, where all their conversations are held. ‘Like burnt copper.’ She slides her fingers up to trail through her client’s tresses, sighing inwardly when Nandi laughs again.
‘You’re such a romantic,’ she chides and Inara pulls her hands away, stung. Nandi sighs and then her voice returns, compassionate again. ‘You have to stop doing this to yourself, mei mei.’
The Companion doesn’t answer, focusing instead on the small of her client’s back, pressing her lips there – one of Nandi’s favourite places - as her hands move lower, cupping the rise and curve of the flesh beneath her palms.
A sigh again. ‘Is this really helping?’
‘Leave me be,’ Inara pleads, the hurt overwhelming her as her client turns over – skin too white, breasts too small, lips too thin, eyes too lacking – what? Everything. That life, that spark that Nandi’s always held for her.
‘You brought me here,’ the former Companion replies. ‘You send me away.’
‘I can’t!’ she cries in a helpless whisper. ‘I need you.’ She swallows her grief with a kiss, hiding her disappointment in a moan when lips don’t answer her with the proper movements or desired taste.
‘It’s always the same thing, Inara.’
It is. And it’s only been worse since... But she doesn’t want to go there.
She lays back passively as her client reverses their positions, surrendering her control in a way she only ever allows herself with her female clientele, dreaming of another’s mouth, another’s hands in place of those that touch her as Nandi’s voice guides her to oblivion.
‘My sweet, sweet Inara,’ she says, and Inara swears she can feel the brush of Nandi’s fingers against her lips, her cheek.
She closes her eyes, using her orgasm to hide her tears.
When she comes back, she feels the brush of fingers again.
‘You’re always so sad.’
‘I’m fine,’ Inara answers, though she knows it’s a lie. She senses Nandi’s head shake and knows she’ll never see her again. Not Nandi. Not this woman.
Not until she can’t help but look for her again.
By: 2x2
Word Count: 482
Spoilers: Allusions to Heart of Gold
Rating: PG
A/N: Written for
agent_rouka’s prompt: Inara/Other – “Extraordinary in some way” (as in female clients tend to be) Sorry it's not quite what you asked for, darlin'... It’s not quite what I intended to write either, but the idea took over.
The soft glow of golden candle light flickers over pale skin, the gentle curve giving way to sharper planes beneath her fingers; soft and soothing on the down stroke, firmer on the up sweep, losing herself in smooth, silky feel of her memory.
It’s rare for her to take a woman as a client. She hears proposals often enough, but there are certain things – criteria – that she looks for in each of them, and it is that which keeps them so few and far between.
The last one had something familiar in her smile. The one before that had her determination and wild spirit. The one before that, her eyes.
This one has her hair.
Nandi’s voice comes to her then, unbidden and full of gently mocking laughter. ‘My hair,’ she says ‘looked nothing like that.’
‘The colour,’ Inara replies in her mind, where all their conversations are held. ‘Like burnt copper.’ She slides her fingers up to trail through her client’s tresses, sighing inwardly when Nandi laughs again.
‘You’re such a romantic,’ she chides and Inara pulls her hands away, stung. Nandi sighs and then her voice returns, compassionate again. ‘You have to stop doing this to yourself, mei mei.’
The Companion doesn’t answer, focusing instead on the small of her client’s back, pressing her lips there – one of Nandi’s favourite places - as her hands move lower, cupping the rise and curve of the flesh beneath her palms.
A sigh again. ‘Is this really helping?’
‘Leave me be,’ Inara pleads, the hurt overwhelming her as her client turns over – skin too white, breasts too small, lips too thin, eyes too lacking – what? Everything. That life, that spark that Nandi’s always held for her.
‘You brought me here,’ the former Companion replies. ‘You send me away.’
‘I can’t!’ she cries in a helpless whisper. ‘I need you.’ She swallows her grief with a kiss, hiding her disappointment in a moan when lips don’t answer her with the proper movements or desired taste.
‘It’s always the same thing, Inara.’
It is. And it’s only been worse since... But she doesn’t want to go there.
She lays back passively as her client reverses their positions, surrendering her control in a way she only ever allows herself with her female clientele, dreaming of another’s mouth, another’s hands in place of those that touch her as Nandi’s voice guides her to oblivion.
‘My sweet, sweet Inara,’ she says, and Inara swears she can feel the brush of Nandi’s fingers against her lips, her cheek.
She closes her eyes, using her orgasm to hide her tears.
When she comes back, she feels the brush of fingers again.
‘You’re always so sad.’
‘I’m fine,’ Inara answers, though she knows it’s a lie. She senses Nandi’s head shake and knows she’ll never see her again. Not Nandi. Not this woman.
Not until she can’t help but look for her again.
no subject
Date: 2006-10-24 11:58 am (UTC)I'm so happy you like it, darlin'... as soon as this idea came to me, it stuck, and I couldn't write anything else, so I'm very pleased you enjoyed it *G* and that you think it makes sense for Inara to look for all those little things! Yay! :o)
I am just so in love with the idea of Inara/Nandi... they're obviously my newest kink :o>
no subject
Date: 2006-10-24 01:00 pm (UTC)Like a doctor self-medicating. Not exactly healthy, but done in full awareness.
I am just so in love with the idea of Inara/Nandi... they're obviously my newest kink :o>
Feed! The! Kink!
no subject
Date: 2006-10-24 04:21 pm (UTC)Oooh! I like that comparison! *nods* very true!
Feed! The! Kink!
Hmmmm. I'm not sure I quite get whether you think I should continue with the Inara/Nandi or not.... Nope, nothing about that statement indicates a desire for more... It's too bad really. With *some* sort of encouragement, I might be inspired to write some more... Oh well... *eg*
;o>
hee hee hee... *huggles teh kink*