Summary: A lazy afternoon snippet between these two. Written for Genarti.
Jo was lying on her side on the bed, trying not to wiggle or shiver, as she looking over her shoulder. "What are you doing?"
"Horticulture," was the prompt response. The woman with the long dark hair didn't even look up at her from the slow migration of her finger tips. As engaged in the movement of her digits as the location of their trespass.
"There will be no furrowing of my skin."
River looked up at Jo, from over the rise of her leg, with a look of pointed audacity. Her fingers still drifted from the jut of Jo's hip bone to across her thigh to scar at the top of her knee. "The evidence is contradictory."
Turning over quickly, in attempted to catch River with her legs which led to a screech, Jo groaned, laughter bright in her tone. "I don't see how anyone could consider you innocent."
"I am not immaculate," River pointed out to Jo's right shoulder lyrically.
"No, but you can be my God anyway," Jo said. Then she leaned in and kissed River before her look of only half-serious shock could lead to words.
River was smiling, facial expression soft and absent, when Jo pulled away, like she floated in her own world crafted by that moment. Then her dark eyes darted suddenly and she whispered lowly, "Blasphemer."
"Only on days that end in 'y,'" Jo retorted in defense, brushing back the loose dark hair from River's cheeks, but not moving it behind her shoulders.