A/N:

Written for EllieMurasaki as part of the fandom_stocking "exchange" over at DW.


Being human is quite a bother.

Naomi squashes the empty water bottle and throws it away, well aware that Abaddon is witnessing her display of frustration. Abaddon is witnessing quite a lot these days, but there isn't anything Naomi can do about that, not as long as she needs her. A fact Abaddon is quite aware of. Arms crossed, leaning casually against their machine, she looks like smugness personified, and Naomi wants nothing more than to throttle her.

"Finished?" she asks instead, crossing the short walk of heat-glimmering asphalt with quick strides. She has long lost her jacket, and in the shimmering air she can't help but be glad about it.

vVv

"You're hot, darling. Let's get rid of this."

Hands push at the lapels of her jacket, push it over her shoulders even as she's still searching for the words to protest, waiting for her lips to form the words, for her hands to fend Abaddon off. They don't move, though, and Naomi stays silent. The grey cloth meets the dirt of the road with a swirl of dust rising around it, covering it thoroughly, grey, dirty - left behind.

vVv

"All filled up," Abaddon says, and reaches for her wrist. Naomi pulls back, and Abaddon makes that rebuking noise that grates against Naomi's nerves.

"You should roll up your sleeves. It's much more comfortable."

And then, because Naomi is not about to do something so human, Abaddon snaps her fingers and the buttons on her sleeves pop off before the material is pushed up to above her elbows. Naomi glares and pulls them down again, but without buttons there's no way to straighten them back to their formerly pristine state. Abaddon is slowly but surely unravelling her, and Naomi is far too busy accommodating all those needs and demands and nuisances of being fused with a human vessel to put much energy into fighting her off.

vVv

"Let your hair down, darling. It'll never fit under the helmet this way."

Naomi moves to turn and face her, but the pins are already pulling out of her hair and dark locks tumble down to her shoulders as she opens her mouth to snap at Abaddon. Her words fail her, anyway, when she sees the expression in the other woman's eyes.

"I'm most certainly not wearing any such thing!"

"Oh but darling, you're human now," Abaddon points out, and then there are lips on her own and hands in her hair forcing her head even closer to Abaddon, her lips even harder against her, and if those are the consequences of letting her hair down-

"We need to make sure that pretty head of yours is safe. It would be such a waste to see you damaged."

vVv

"Let's go, then. No reason to waste time."

Riding behind Abaddon, it turned out, is the easiest way to get her eyes to leave Naomi's blouse-covered chest. A goal all the more urgent, now that the idea of popping buttons has crossed the demon's mind.

"Don't you need a restroom break?" Abaddon teases, even as she turns the keys in the ignition. "I'd be quite willing to accompany you. That's what women do, isn't it?"

Naomi has a perfectly good idea what Abaddon has in mind for a 'restroom break', but she doesn't quite agree with the way her vessel reacts to that thought.

"Most certainly not."

Abaddon laughs and swings her leg across the saddle, straddling the machine in that annoying way that always seems to draw Naomi's gaze to the way her dark jeans cling to her legs and-

"You're really enjoying riding pillion, aren't you?"

"Not at all."

Naomi catches the helmet thrown her way and grudgingly puts it on; for a demon, Abaddon displays an annoying lack of recklessness, at least where Naomi's head is concerned.

"We have a mission," she says, placing her foot on the machine's minuscule peg. "I'm not willing to waste more time with this than absolutely necessary."

She swings her leg across the saddle and fits her knees against Abaddon's thighs.

"Human transportation is ridiculously slow, anyway."

"So eager to return to your little desk?"

"Shut up and drive!"

The engine roars, and as they leave the gas station behind in a cloud of dust, Naomi wraps her arms around Abaddon's waist. Her front is pressed against Abaddon's back, her nose filled with the scent of leather and sunshine, and red hair flies around her face as the wind tries to hold them.

Being human is such a bother.


A/N: My first Abaddon/Naomi fic ever - I hope I managed to keep them in character ;)

A/N 2: Sources used for the cover that are not screenshots I took myself are

- Honda_Motorcycle_Stock_1 by Speed_Stock (dA)/gullevek on flickr

- desolate_road by night-fate-stock (dA)