Title: Hesitation
Pairings: Sikozu/Scorpius
When: Set during/after the kiss in We're so screwed: La Bomba
Summary: A potential view of Sikozu's and Scorpius' thoughts during the kiss.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of Farscape, wish I did, but it isn't going to happen.
Author's note: I love the Sikozu/Scorpius pairing; it was one of the best parts of Farscape. And I can't find that many shippers. Anyhow, this is my first fanfic in a while, and my first Farscape one, so feel free to berate me for getting things wrong. Nexus.
Her first kiss planted softly on the right side of his lips was confident, precise. This was what she wanted, what she needed at this time, what part of her had wanted to do the first time she laid eyes on Scorpius. The second kiss, after looking into his deep, dark eyes was much more hesitant, as if she was now unsure of what she wanted. When he turned away from her, she hesitated again. What was it about this man that made her so hesitant to take what she wanted from him? She could not afford to be so soft, so weak; she needed to remain in control. He despised weakness, and would not allow it in an ally, and frell, she needed an ally on this crazy forsaken ship. Of course, seducing Scorpius was not directly useful in terms of her mission, however, she needed to keep him close, keep him interested, and even though he was the most intellectual man she had ever met, he was a man, and all men had carnal appetites. Reaching upward she took his face in her hand and guided his mouth back towards her own, capturing his lips once more in a gentle embrace. Finally, she elicited a desirable response, as his mouth willingly pressed down on to hers, as he surrendered to her, Sikozu suppressed an inward smile, and brushed of her earlier moment of weakness as a result of the fatigue brought about by her earlier exertions. She pressed her lips more eagerly against his, regretting the metal restraints between them, as Scorpius' continued to kiss her with more and more heat, she forgot herself and melted into the passion that was sweeping her away, and carrying her reason with it.
It took him at least a millimicrot to register that Sikozu was so close to him, and another to realise she had her lips pressed against his. His initial reaction was to stop her, before this went any further. He enjoyed, and sometimes relished Sikozu's company. She was certainly resourceful and he had found many uses for her, but, he thought, he had a rather worrying urge to protect her, one which he could not allow himself to indulge in, nor could he allow it to grow any stronger. Feelings were for those weaker than him. Of course he felt some things, hatred for Scarrens, some portion of respect for those who served him well, the lust for power over those who he wished to influence, the passion for knowledge that he had always had. However, tender feelings, the kind that befuddled minds such as John and Aeryn's, made people weak, and he would not tolerate weakness. As this diagnosis was passing rapidly through his brain, he realised that Sikozu had kissed him again, more hesitantly. This was the perfect moment to stop this course of action that she was pursuing. He slowly turned his face from hers; silently cursing the weak, base, part of his mind that pleaded with him to continue. He felt her stop, and hesitate once more; sure she would leave him and walk away, but she did not. Her boldness astounded him, they were allies on Moya, and possibly friends, in some twisted sense of the word, if friends meant using each other to fulfil their own agendas, but he had not foreseen this. He had, of course, registered her interest in him, but presumed she would not act. Her lips were still touching his, she was in fact, still kissing him. Now was the time to decide. Yes or no. Suddenly, the softness of her lips, and her increasing urgency startled him out of his reverie and his resolve weakened for a microt. That was all it took. Now consciously engaging with her, he rationalised that he could use this to his advantage, and that if he sensed any tender feeling forming, he could dispose of her, as needed. He let himself be consumed.