Story Summary: Zev Bellringer's dress was a clingy blue number that accentuated her curves, usually as she sprinted down hallways from mortal danger. The sight of her body could stop Stanley Tweedle short and quicken his pulse. But for years, he rarely tried anything more than the unsexy, pragmatic approach of demanding she have sex with him.
Notes: Originally composed September 2010, but the Internet can always use more Lexx 'fics. Xev/Stan. Cross-posted to Archive of Our Own.
Five Times Xev Turned Stan Down (and the One Time She Didn't)
1. A Volcano of Desire
Zev Bellringer's dress was a clingy blue number that accentuated her curves, usually as she sprinted down hallways from mortal danger. Her tall, black boots drew the eye to her thighs, and on upward to where that dress hugged her figure. The sight of her body could stop Stanley Tweedle short and quicken his pulse.
The boots were made of a heavy, thick material, designed to carry a bigger load. Which was just as well, because despite her recent, miraculous weight loss, the skinny teenager hadn't lost that much weight. She had to keep her Cluster Lizard form…somewhere. Law of the conservation of mass. Not that anyone knew about that quirk of hers, yet.
It wasn't like Stan was a pervert for looking. It wasn't like the girl hadn't let him kiss her once, either.
Maybe if Giggerota hadn't been lurking nearby, polluting the atmosphere with her evil, Zev would have kissed back instead of trying to eat him. (That openly eager expression on the girl's face had looked like lust, but apparently she was just hungry.)
Sigh. Cluster Lizards…
Sometime into their journey through the Dark Zone, the girl still wouldn't reconsider a quick roll in the hay. She instead gazed longingly at the handsome corpse lying in the Lexx's cryochamber.
Stan tried pointing out they were the only two people on board, and possibly the only two people in the galaxy, if there were any people in the Dark Zone at all. (Kai didn't count.) Despite the strength of Zev's unrequited love for the undead assassin, she made the mistake of admitting to Stan that she was horny.
Perfect! he thought. Uncontrollable urges, plus low standards, would equal Stan's first lay in ten years.
He tried denying he was a bit of a pervert, he really did. He had wandered into the shower room to tell the girl something entirely unrelated to sex. Really. (Not really.) But he turned his head and caught a glimpse of her nude, wet body, and found himself just standing there, transfixed, watching as she caressed her skin.
In this new, beautiful body, Zev was no shy, blushing flower. She felt proud, now, full of self-confidence she never had. So when she caught him watching, Zev didn't lash out in anger. She relished that someone desired her so very much.
And she was a free woman, at last. He could look, but that didn't mean he got to touch.
Zev decided to taunt her foolish crew-mate a bit.
"You want me, don't you Stan?" she asked. It wasn't even a question.
She had shed the dress, but still wore the black rubber bindings that wrapped around her wrists and shoulders. Teasing him was fun, so Zev confessed that she felt like "a white hot volcano of desire," and that she craved touch. (Which she did. She really did.)
Stan wanted to touch her. (He did. He really did.)
Replying that he felt like a volcano too, Zev smugly brushed him off, telling him, "There's only one thing for you to do, Stanley Tweedle. Go somewhere private and erupt by yourself."
But even when she was being cruel, Stan had always liked the way Zev said his name.