Jasmine and Honeysuckle

By: IMBSA

IMBSA: No, this is NOT a lemon fic, pervs who might be reading this. (Cough, I'm talking to you, ISSF.) I had to write something for my Lang. Arts class and this was all I could come up with. (Gundam SEED's leaking into my school life. Lord help me.) If it seems a bit weird, I'm sorry, I'm trying. Oh, and FYI, I've only seen about five, six episodes and I'm only going off the episode summaries for the most part. Bear with me.

Disclaimer: "Between these walls/And darkened halls/I've done my time/If I should die/Before I wake/Then you'll know why"

The first thing Mwu la Fllaga smelt when he awoke was flowers. Blinking, he tried to turn over, but was restrained by a weight in his arms. Wondering what it was that he held, he turned to the right as much as the mysterious load would let him. His expression immediately softened as he found the source of both the weight and the pleasant smell, for enclosed in his arms laid a woman so beautiful, she would have given Aphrodite a run for her money in the goddess of loveliness department.

Murrue's head was nestled right in the crook of Mwu's neck, her brown hair cascading over her face and the pillow. Her tawny eyes were closed for the moment, but Mwu knew that when they opened, they burnt with the passion of a person who knew who to love more than life and hate to the very end. Her eyes never failed to attract is attention. They seemed different colors, different tints, depending on the light. Of course, some colors remained constant, like the dark brown edges and golden centers. Her eyes often ranged between those two extremes. How interesting they were.

How interesting too was her scent; a combination of jasmine and honeysuckle, the two most delicious scents intermingling with each other and intoxicating Mwu's senses. She looked so peaceful, so at rest and untroubled. The lines of worry that seemed to perpetually crease her face when she was awake had been smoothed away by sweet sleep.

Mwu's eyes traveled down to rest on her porcelain neck. Or, more specifically, the chain around it. Reaching his left hand out, he lifted the pendant closer to his face. He caught a glimpse of the letters R, I, and P, but before he could examine it further, Murrue stirred slightly in her sleep and, turning on her side, gently, albeit inadvertently, removed the locket from Mwu's, as if to say he had no right to handle it.

One of the good things about her movement was that he was free to get up and stretch, which he certainly took the opportunity to do. He looked at his reflection as he passed the mirror and paused, a small smile adorning his lips. He was a mess; his hair was all disheveled and rumpled up on one side. His white undershirt was wrinkled, as was his uniform pants since he'd slept in them the few nights past.

Looking at his watch (that had been doused in water many times on several different occasions), he saw that it was nearly mid-"morning" and decided that he should get fully dressed. Since they were floating in space, there was nothing to differentiate between "day" and "night." As a result, body clocks tended to get screwed up, and his was no exception. It felt like it was still nighttime, an illusion only strengthened by the fact that all they could see outside the porthole (that was supposed to pass for a window) was space and the night sky. Mwu pulled his blue shirt over his head and undershirt, and then donning his still crumpled jacket, trying to make as little noise as possible. Of all of them, he thought Murrue and Kira needed the most rest. He knew how truly painful it was to be as kind as Murrue in the type of position she held. People might have said that she wasn't good enough to be captain, and, yeah, maybe she didn't seem to be the best, but she tried her hardest. And the fact that they were all still alive had to count for something.

Mwu sat on the edge of the bed, lacing up his boots when he heard something move behind him. Half turning, he saw Murrue sitting up and stretching, obviously just awakening. The bed sheet had fallen to her waist, revealing a white silk camisole that poorly hid her ample figure. She yawned, murmured Mwu's name questioningly, and moved to sit beside him, her white, knee-length skirt riding up a bit until she sat properly. Murrue rested her head on his shoulder, her scent banishing all rational thoughts from his mind. They sat in silence, Mwu breathing in Murrue's tantalizing odor; Murrue seemingly content with the rare moment of peace. The smell of jasmine and honey-suckle filled the air, drowning the two lovers in flowers.

IMBSA: Well, hoped you liked it. R & R!