Polite Conversation
Polite Conversation
"You cannot be serious." Ashley Williams looked open-mouthed at Miranda Shepard across the round wrought-iron table, her knife and fork balancing precariously on the edge as they dropped from nerveless fingers. "You can't just sit at the breakfast table and ask me if I want to screw your husband!" She bit off the end of her sentence, cheeks flaring as she picked up her silverware, using it as an excuse to look down.
"Oh?" Miranda's voice was light, richly amused, delightfully crisp like the sound of biting into a ripe apple. "I'm sorry. Where should I sit?"
"That is *not* what I meant!" But it was enough to make her laugh, a little, and look back up at Miranda. Try as she might, Ashley couldn't stop her eyes from flicking up and down over Miranda's body. She wore a light, transparent cotton wrap over a barely-there black bikini that did nothing to hide her curves, a light sea breeze plucking at the white flower in her hair and blowing raven-black strands across her face. Miranda's smile was impish, inviting, and Ashley took a deep breath as her green tank top suddenly felt far too tight across her chest. She took a deep breath and forced herself to look into Miranda's eyes. "You know the Skipper and I have...a past." Regret flared through her at those words, memories of Horizon and the Citadel that she carefully pushed down.
"Yes." Miranda lifted her long-stemmed glass with one graceful motion, sipping her mimosa in a way that somehow called attention to the snow-white curve of her jaw against the sky and sand. "I know. John and I share...everything." Somehow she made the last word come out in a way that sent a shiver up Ashley's spine. "But I know you. I don't think you'd try to steal him from me-"
"I'd never-"
"I know. Let me finish." Miranda held up a hand, taking a breath in a way that seemed to just-barely crack her smooth, seductive air. "I know you that well, at least, and I know John. He's never been all the way there, since we brought him back from the Crucible. He walks, he talks, but I don't think he can let go of the war enough to really live." Her eyes met Ashley's, sky-blue and open. "I think he needs some help."
"No. As I said, I know John. I know that no matter what rules we agree to beforehand, there's a good chance he'll get emotionally involved with whoever we brought in." For a second, there was a glimpse of helplessness in Miranda's eyes. "I'm...not that way when it comes to sex. But John is. And of all the people I could have invited to join us...you're the only one where I wouldn't mind that. At all."
"Uh?" For the second time in ten minutes, Ashley's mind went into reset mode. "Wouldn't mind...Miranda, what are you...?"
"Ashley." Her name dripped off Miranda's lips as she stood, slowly making her way around the table. "Please. When we lost John on the Crucible, who never doubted for a moment I could bring him back again? When I despaired of restarting his brain, who gave me hope to pull through?" She was all the way around the table now, one hand on Ashley's shoulder. "When it took everything I had to finish in time and bring him back, who calmed me and kept me from going over the edge?" She reached down and cupped Ash's chin, fine bone structure that contrasted with her heavily muscled body, and Ashley felt that shivering again between her shoulder blades, could feel her nipples ache against the tank top. "You're strong, brave, sweet, beautiful. I couldn't keep myself from wanting you if I tried."
"I-" Ashley swallowed past a lump, looking up at Miranda. "I never let myself think about...women that way." A flicker of disappointment, the first hint of Miranda's fingers drawing back, and Ashley reached up, weaving her fingers in with Miranda's and squeezing. "Couldn't get past growing up with all those sisters, feeling dirty every time I thought about a woman because then I'd think of them. But Miranda-" she stood now, her other hand coming tentatively up to cup the back of Miranda's neck, stepping in as she whispered, "-You don't remind me of my sisters. At all."
"Ashley?"
"Mmm?" Her whole body was aching now, mouth watering as she took in Miranda's suddenly bright smile. The other woman leaned in and whispered,
"Kiss me already." Ash laughed and leaned forward, slightly tentative until she tasted warm, smooth lips against her own, soft, completely unlike a man's and yet so very right as she pulled Miranda up against her. When they broke she said, still the tiniest bit shy.
"I don't know what to do."
"I know." Miranda's grin turned ever so slightly cheeky as she undid the string that held up her wrap, letting it drop to the veranda's floor. "Don't worry. John won't be home for a few more hours. I'm sure we can have you up to speed by then."