All written for
sweetjamielee's Comment Fic Meme. Go there. Go now.
Build me a boat that can carry two [prompt from
darsfebruary Alicia/Kalinda: sharing clothes and/or shoes]
Alicia tucks Kalinda’s blouse into yesterday’s skirt, watching herself in the mirror. The jewel tones are wrong for her skin; she looks flushed, hair curling against her collar. She feels stupid and thrilled - young, like she’s in college, preparing to do the walk of shame. Sighing, she wets a finger, leaning into the mirror to attempt damage control on her eye makeup.
“Want some cotton pads?” Kalinda asks from the door. She looks sleepy and rumpled, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and panties, her hair loose and messy. “Or makeup remover?”
Alicia raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you getting dressed?”
“Nah,” Kalinda squeezes into the bathroom with her. “Don’t have your 9 o’clock court date. I’ll be in later, for the Jackson thing.” She reaches into the cabinet, retrieving cotton swabs and a tiny bottle of liquid. “Here,” she says, sitting Alicia on the edge of the bathtub and tilting her chin up.
Alicia submits without a word, surprised. She expected things to be awkward between them, was steeling herself for stilted silence. This is— Alicia doesn’t know. Kalinda’s face gives nothing away, but her hands are cool and gentle. She breathes warm peppermint breaths into Alicia’s face, close and lovely.
She is also efficient; she uses the cotton pads to neaten Alicia’s eyeliner, then pulls out her own for touch-ups. Off Alicia’s look she says “would you believe I was a makeup artist in a past life?” and laughs at Alicia’s “no”. She’s finished in less than five minutes.
“Presentable?” Alicia asks. She wishes it had taken longer. Inside Kalinda’s tiny bathroom everything is quiet and early-morning calm and Alicia doesn’t want to leave.
“Mmm,” Kalinda says, capping a brush. “Maybe next time we should try not to fall asleep.”
“Yeah,” Alicia agrees evenly, even as the words “next time” send a thrill down her spine. She fights her grin until she sees Kalinda watching through her eyelashes. Checking.
Alicia stands, circling her fingers around Kalinda’s wrist. “Next time we’ll plan ahead,” she says definitively. Then she kisses Kalinda, Kalinda who is always so careful, who tastes like peppermint and hides her smiles in Alicia’s mouth.
Move [prompt from
sweetjamielee, Kalinda/Alicia: drunken dancing]
When the first pay check of her new raise comes in, Kalinda takes Alicia out to celebrate. “I don’t know,” Alicia says, straight-faced, after Kalinda announces her intentions, “Maybe we should go to the country club.” Then she smiles, loose and happy. Kalinda smiles back. Because it’s been a hard month at the firm, with the almost-split and the fallout, but right now, right this minute things are briefly, quietly wonderful.
They agree on Friday night, which is— well, Kalinda doesn’t think too closely about it, but normally they go out on weeknights, straight from work. This feels more… deliberate, somehow. She has time to go home before she’s supposed to pick Alicia up. She spends it sitting on her couch, channel surfing and pointedly not changing her clothes.
Alicia apparently has no such qualms. When she slips into Kalinda’s car she’s wearing different shoes and an honest-to-God dress. At Kalinda’s raised eyebrow, she laughs and says “If you’re taking me out, then you’re taking me out”. She’s chatty and relaxed. Kalinda is glad this brief moment of respite is mutual.
At the bar, Alicia gets politely, sweetly drunk. Her rambling talk charms everyone within a five foot radius, and Kalinda does shots until the room swoops pleasantly. Everything feels fuzzy and fine.
A clean-cut guy, only slightly too young, asks Alicia to dance. Kalinda kicks at her ankles until she agrees (“But only if your friend dances with my friend”) and endures her own partner’s slightly sweaty hands with good humour because, God, if anyone needs to get out more it’s Alicia. Still, she stays close on the crowded dance floor. She watches. And when Alicia starts to make panic faces at her after just two minutes she willingly extricates them both, spinning Alicia away in a move she remembers from college and clubbing, a lifetime ago.
Alicia follows the momentum all the way into Kalinda’s arms. Suddenly they’re practically on top of one other, pressing hipbones and tangled fingers. “Whoops,” Alicia laughs, swaying, “hang on.” But she doesn’t move away, just bends down to slip off her heels.
“Alicia!” Kalinda scolds automatically. “The floor is filthy.”
Alicia smiles, unrepentant. “Can’t dance with you if I can’t stand,” she says, stretching back up. She slings her arms around Kalinda’s neck, shoes dangling from one hand, cold and hard against Kalinda’s back. Kalinda holds very still, just in case. Just so she knows the last few seconds of lean don’t come from her.
They dance through four songs, slowly, too drunk to do anything more than just sway. Kalinda burns everywhere they’re touching, but keeps herself to herself. Keeps her hands lightly at Alicia’s hips, keeps her head titled away, and absolutely, absolutely refuses to think.
Afterwards, she pours a sleepy Alicia into a cab with promises to “be very safe” and “get into the very next one that comes”. She doesn’t though. She stands in the wind until she’s freezing. Waits for it to knock some sense into her.
C. K. Dexter Haven, You Have Unsuspected Depth [prompt from
darsfebruary, Kalinda/Alicia OR Kalinda and Jackie: Kalinda's new country club membership]
When Alicia tells Jackie that yes, she really, truly is going to a country club (although no, it isn’t a ladies luncheon, and no, she doesn’t need a hat) Jackie’s expression is an odd combination of smug and bewildered. She peers at Alicia as though Alicia is a dog that has suddenly decided to stand on its hind legs – surpassing expectations in a way that is slightly unnerving.
When Kalinda waltzes through the door fifteen minutes later, Jackie’s face smoothes out: obviously, in her mind, the other shoe has dropped and her world makes sense again. “And how do you know Alicia, dear?” she starts in a syrupy-sweet voice. Ducking off to say goodbye to the kids, Alicia is only too happy to leave her alone with Kalinda’s baleful stare.
She comes back to find Kalinda standing alone in an empty kitchen, looking bored. “Oh my god, what did you do to her?” Alicia laughs. She receives nothing but a Kalinda-smile in reply. (Sometimes – a lot of the time – she thinks Kalinda may rank very high up her list of favourite people. Because while Kalinda is prickly and frustratingly opaque, there are moments, periods of sharp loveliness, when Alicia wants to thank her or hug her, buy her a drink.) On the way to the door, Alicia threads their arms together briefly, feeling silly and fond.
At the country club, they pause inside the car, considering. It is large and imposing, even with the golf course closed until warmer weather.
(“I feel like I’ll lose my street cred,” Kalinda says. “The cops will look at me and just know.”
Alicia grins. “Is this like gaydar or something? High income-bracket-dar?”
“Yes,” Kalinda nods solemnly. “I have to wash my clothes every time I visit your house.”
Alicia laughs and laughs.)
Eventually, they make it inside. To his credit, the kid at the door only blinks at Kalinda for a second (and after all, Alicia tells her, it is a very short skirt) and they reach the change room without further incident.
“This had better be worth it,” Kalinda warns, unzipping her boots.
“It’s a hot tub, Kalinda,” Alicia explains for what feels like the fifth time. “In a country club. It will be.” She is having trouble remembering the precise looking-but-not-watching etiquette of carrying out a conversation while changing. Kalinda’s bra is very blue.
Alicia stares determinedly at her locker until they are both safely in their bathing suits.
The hot tub is lovely, warm and huge and empty. They sit across from each other in companionable silence. When Alicia stretches out her feet, their legs tangle. Neither of them moves.
“With the rich and mighty—” Kalinda says. Her eyes are closed.
“—Always a little patience,” Alicia finishes. Under the water their legs slide together, slow and smooth.
Nets of silver and gold have we [prompt from
sweetjamielee, Alicia/Kalinda: morning-after hangover]
Alicia wakes up with a head full of cotton. Everything feels heavy and underwater-slow, the hotel room dark and quiet and still. She has no idea what time it is; she is no longer wearing her watch.
(She is no longer wearing a lot of things.)
“Did we—?” she starts.
“Yep,” says Kalinda.
There doesn’t seem to be much more to add. Together they stare at the cheap stucco ceiling, the silence stretching out like taffy. Alicia is just falling back to sleep when Kalinda asks: “Want some water?”
Alicia blinks. “Yeah,” she says carefully, “water would be nice.” She turns her head and presses her cheek into a cool patch of pillow. Deliberately does not watch when Kalinda gets out of bed.
The room does a slow, nauseating spin. Alicia closes her eyes.
She keeps them closed until she feels the mattress dip with Kalinda’s return. There’s a rustling as she slips neatly back between the sheets, and then she’s handing Alicia a glass. Her fingers are very cold. Alicia forces herself to make eye contact, to look Kalinda full in the face (only Kalinda won’t look at her). Up close Alicia can tell she’s washed her makeup off, the hair around her temples damp and curling. She looks tired and uncomfortable and young.
“Look,” Alicia tries, “Can we—can we freak out later?” She sets the water on the bedside table, touches Kalinda’s shoulder. “It’s just—I’m too tired to do it now.”
Kalinda looks at her then, quick and sharp. But all she says is “okay”. All she does is lie back down.
“One sec,” Alicia tells her, then heads to the bathroom. She washes off her makeup. Swishes with mouthwash. Ties up her unruly hair.
Stands there until the weight of her own cowardice makes her move.
Kalinda isn’t watching for her return. Her head’s turned away on the pillow but she’s not asleep, eyes dark and open, face still. Alicia slips back into bed. They lie there together, side-by-side and silent.
Then Alicia says: screw it.
Something snaps, something important and essential and sane and she reaches out, pulling Kalinda into her arms. (And she doesn’t know what surprises her more; that she actually does it or that Kalinda lets her, wide-eyed and stiff but ultimately unresisting.)
“I don’t want to freak out,” Alicia says all in a rush, faltering, “but— I don’t want to lie here being lonely either and—”
“K,” Kalinda says, touching Alicia’s cheek. She is smiling an odd half-smile. Her body relaxes into Alicia’s by degrees, warm and human, one arm threading up and around Alicia’s neck. She smells like hotel soap and her own faint perfume. Alicia closes her eyes against a wave of gratefulness.
“My head hurts,” she says. Her voice is small and thin. Like a child.
Kalinda plays with the curls at the nape of Alicia’s neck. “Yeah,” she murmurs quietly. “Yeah, I know.”
Build me a boat that can carry two [prompt from
Alicia tucks Kalinda’s blouse into yesterday’s skirt, watching herself in the mirror. The jewel tones are wrong for her skin; she looks flushed, hair curling against her collar. She feels stupid and thrilled - young, like she’s in college, preparing to do the walk of shame. Sighing, she wets a finger, leaning into the mirror to attempt damage control on her eye makeup.
“Want some cotton pads?” Kalinda asks from the door. She looks sleepy and rumpled, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and panties, her hair loose and messy. “Or makeup remover?”
Alicia raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you getting dressed?”
“Nah,” Kalinda squeezes into the bathroom with her. “Don’t have your 9 o’clock court date. I’ll be in later, for the Jackson thing.” She reaches into the cabinet, retrieving cotton swabs and a tiny bottle of liquid. “Here,” she says, sitting Alicia on the edge of the bathtub and tilting her chin up.
Alicia submits without a word, surprised. She expected things to be awkward between them, was steeling herself for stilted silence. This is— Alicia doesn’t know. Kalinda’s face gives nothing away, but her hands are cool and gentle. She breathes warm peppermint breaths into Alicia’s face, close and lovely.
She is also efficient; she uses the cotton pads to neaten Alicia’s eyeliner, then pulls out her own for touch-ups. Off Alicia’s look she says “would you believe I was a makeup artist in a past life?” and laughs at Alicia’s “no”. She’s finished in less than five minutes.
“Presentable?” Alicia asks. She wishes it had taken longer. Inside Kalinda’s tiny bathroom everything is quiet and early-morning calm and Alicia doesn’t want to leave.
“Mmm,” Kalinda says, capping a brush. “Maybe next time we should try not to fall asleep.”
“Yeah,” Alicia agrees evenly, even as the words “next time” send a thrill down her spine. She fights her grin until she sees Kalinda watching through her eyelashes. Checking.
Alicia stands, circling her fingers around Kalinda’s wrist. “Next time we’ll plan ahead,” she says definitively. Then she kisses Kalinda, Kalinda who is always so careful, who tastes like peppermint and hides her smiles in Alicia’s mouth.
Move [prompt from
When the first pay check of her new raise comes in, Kalinda takes Alicia out to celebrate. “I don’t know,” Alicia says, straight-faced, after Kalinda announces her intentions, “Maybe we should go to the country club.” Then she smiles, loose and happy. Kalinda smiles back. Because it’s been a hard month at the firm, with the almost-split and the fallout, but right now, right this minute things are briefly, quietly wonderful.
They agree on Friday night, which is— well, Kalinda doesn’t think too closely about it, but normally they go out on weeknights, straight from work. This feels more… deliberate, somehow. She has time to go home before she’s supposed to pick Alicia up. She spends it sitting on her couch, channel surfing and pointedly not changing her clothes.
Alicia apparently has no such qualms. When she slips into Kalinda’s car she’s wearing different shoes and an honest-to-God dress. At Kalinda’s raised eyebrow, she laughs and says “If you’re taking me out, then you’re taking me out”. She’s chatty and relaxed. Kalinda is glad this brief moment of respite is mutual.
At the bar, Alicia gets politely, sweetly drunk. Her rambling talk charms everyone within a five foot radius, and Kalinda does shots until the room swoops pleasantly. Everything feels fuzzy and fine.
A clean-cut guy, only slightly too young, asks Alicia to dance. Kalinda kicks at her ankles until she agrees (“But only if your friend dances with my friend”) and endures her own partner’s slightly sweaty hands with good humour because, God, if anyone needs to get out more it’s Alicia. Still, she stays close on the crowded dance floor. She watches. And when Alicia starts to make panic faces at her after just two minutes she willingly extricates them both, spinning Alicia away in a move she remembers from college and clubbing, a lifetime ago.
Alicia follows the momentum all the way into Kalinda’s arms. Suddenly they’re practically on top of one other, pressing hipbones and tangled fingers. “Whoops,” Alicia laughs, swaying, “hang on.” But she doesn’t move away, just bends down to slip off her heels.
“Alicia!” Kalinda scolds automatically. “The floor is filthy.”
Alicia smiles, unrepentant. “Can’t dance with you if I can’t stand,” she says, stretching back up. She slings her arms around Kalinda’s neck, shoes dangling from one hand, cold and hard against Kalinda’s back. Kalinda holds very still, just in case. Just so she knows the last few seconds of lean don’t come from her.
They dance through four songs, slowly, too drunk to do anything more than just sway. Kalinda burns everywhere they’re touching, but keeps herself to herself. Keeps her hands lightly at Alicia’s hips, keeps her head titled away, and absolutely, absolutely refuses to think.
Afterwards, she pours a sleepy Alicia into a cab with promises to “be very safe” and “get into the very next one that comes”. She doesn’t though. She stands in the wind until she’s freezing. Waits for it to knock some sense into her.
C. K. Dexter Haven, You Have Unsuspected Depth [prompt from
When Alicia tells Jackie that yes, she really, truly is going to a country club (although no, it isn’t a ladies luncheon, and no, she doesn’t need a hat) Jackie’s expression is an odd combination of smug and bewildered. She peers at Alicia as though Alicia is a dog that has suddenly decided to stand on its hind legs – surpassing expectations in a way that is slightly unnerving.
When Kalinda waltzes through the door fifteen minutes later, Jackie’s face smoothes out: obviously, in her mind, the other shoe has dropped and her world makes sense again. “And how do you know Alicia, dear?” she starts in a syrupy-sweet voice. Ducking off to say goodbye to the kids, Alicia is only too happy to leave her alone with Kalinda’s baleful stare.
She comes back to find Kalinda standing alone in an empty kitchen, looking bored. “Oh my god, what did you do to her?” Alicia laughs. She receives nothing but a Kalinda-smile in reply. (Sometimes – a lot of the time – she thinks Kalinda may rank very high up her list of favourite people. Because while Kalinda is prickly and frustratingly opaque, there are moments, periods of sharp loveliness, when Alicia wants to thank her or hug her, buy her a drink.) On the way to the door, Alicia threads their arms together briefly, feeling silly and fond.
At the country club, they pause inside the car, considering. It is large and imposing, even with the golf course closed until warmer weather.
(“I feel like I’ll lose my street cred,” Kalinda says. “The cops will look at me and just know.”
Alicia grins. “Is this like gaydar or something? High income-bracket-dar?”
“Yes,” Kalinda nods solemnly. “I have to wash my clothes every time I visit your house.”
Alicia laughs and laughs.)
Eventually, they make it inside. To his credit, the kid at the door only blinks at Kalinda for a second (and after all, Alicia tells her, it is a very short skirt) and they reach the change room without further incident.
“This had better be worth it,” Kalinda warns, unzipping her boots.
“It’s a hot tub, Kalinda,” Alicia explains for what feels like the fifth time. “In a country club. It will be.” She is having trouble remembering the precise looking-but-not-watching etiquette of carrying out a conversation while changing. Kalinda’s bra is very blue.
Alicia stares determinedly at her locker until they are both safely in their bathing suits.
The hot tub is lovely, warm and huge and empty. They sit across from each other in companionable silence. When Alicia stretches out her feet, their legs tangle. Neither of them moves.
“With the rich and mighty—” Kalinda says. Her eyes are closed.
“—Always a little patience,” Alicia finishes. Under the water their legs slide together, slow and smooth.
Nets of silver and gold have we [prompt from
Alicia wakes up with a head full of cotton. Everything feels heavy and underwater-slow, the hotel room dark and quiet and still. She has no idea what time it is; she is no longer wearing her watch.
(She is no longer wearing a lot of things.)
“Did we—?” she starts.
“Yep,” says Kalinda.
There doesn’t seem to be much more to add. Together they stare at the cheap stucco ceiling, the silence stretching out like taffy. Alicia is just falling back to sleep when Kalinda asks: “Want some water?”
Alicia blinks. “Yeah,” she says carefully, “water would be nice.” She turns her head and presses her cheek into a cool patch of pillow. Deliberately does not watch when Kalinda gets out of bed.
The room does a slow, nauseating spin. Alicia closes her eyes.
She keeps them closed until she feels the mattress dip with Kalinda’s return. There’s a rustling as she slips neatly back between the sheets, and then she’s handing Alicia a glass. Her fingers are very cold. Alicia forces herself to make eye contact, to look Kalinda full in the face (only Kalinda won’t look at her). Up close Alicia can tell she’s washed her makeup off, the hair around her temples damp and curling. She looks tired and uncomfortable and young.
“Look,” Alicia tries, “Can we—can we freak out later?” She sets the water on the bedside table, touches Kalinda’s shoulder. “It’s just—I’m too tired to do it now.”
Kalinda looks at her then, quick and sharp. But all she says is “okay”. All she does is lie back down.
“One sec,” Alicia tells her, then heads to the bathroom. She washes off her makeup. Swishes with mouthwash. Ties up her unruly hair.
Stands there until the weight of her own cowardice makes her move.
Kalinda isn’t watching for her return. Her head’s turned away on the pillow but she’s not asleep, eyes dark and open, face still. Alicia slips back into bed. They lie there together, side-by-side and silent.
Then Alicia says: screw it.
Something snaps, something important and essential and sane and she reaches out, pulling Kalinda into her arms. (And she doesn’t know what surprises her more; that she actually does it or that Kalinda lets her, wide-eyed and stiff but ultimately unresisting.)
“I don’t want to freak out,” Alicia says all in a rush, faltering, “but— I don’t want to lie here being lonely either and—”
“K,” Kalinda says, touching Alicia’s cheek. She is smiling an odd half-smile. Her body relaxes into Alicia’s by degrees, warm and human, one arm threading up and around Alicia’s neck. She smells like hotel soap and her own faint perfume. Alicia closes her eyes against a wave of gratefulness.
“My head hurts,” she says. Her voice is small and thin. Like a child.
Kalinda plays with the curls at the nape of Alicia’s neck. “Yeah,” she murmurs quietly. “Yeah, I know.”
no subject
Date: 2011-01-24 07:24 pm (UTC)(Jackie!Bitch icon is unrelated to my admiration of your fics:D She just wanted to approve of them too.)
no subject
Date: 2011-01-24 10:08 pm (UTC)And thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed. &hearts