'Oh my poor captive Leopard.' Murrue crooned under her breath, observing the tears drying on the sleeping woman's face. Slowly Murrue sat on the edge of the bed and watched her… interest sleep. After a while she stood, leaving a delicate card behind. So it was a Heian era cliché and inappropriate since they had not consummated anything, but it should certainly pique Natarle's interest.
Natarle tapped the card against her chin thoughtfully. She'd realised something at this carefully constructed melange of compliment and insult – this was a game and she had better start playing it or Murrue would take her to the cleaners. She closeted herself away and started planning and researching.
Mu stared. Okay, so he'd sort of vaguely been aroused by the second in command, especially when she was all business and those dark eyes burned with zeal and passion as she fought the captain bitterly to get her input heard, but this was different and possibly ever so slightly wrong. He knew that even the most dedicated of soldiers had to shop, even for clothes but…. The attractive woman laughing in a sundress was not the woman he intellectually feared and respected was she? And what was she doing with Mirialla, the both of them in and out of changing rooms in a huge variety of outfits, sharing jokes and chattering like a pair of light-hearted schoolgirls? So Mirialla did really count as a schoolgirl, but what was she doing with Natarle? Another question the war hero had to ask himself was why this scared him so much. Women scared him. He shivered and decided to sneak away and seek out Murdoch to spend some time alone doing manly things and bonding in a masculine fashion. Yes.
Natarle walked the kid back to her friends, enjoying the shocked expressions of the crewmembers who saw her passing in a short summery dress. Not that such petty amusement showed on her face. She'd actually enjoyed herself today, getting away from the ship and breaking away from her routine completely with someone she would not usually socialise with. It was only the second day of their month off and already things were 'relaxed'. Shhe ably dodged a small stampede, watching in bemusement as Kira was tied up and dragged away by a very determined looking Chandra and Romero. Strangely Kira didn't look all that unhappy about the situation so Natarle just shrugged and let them get on with it.
Mirialla touched her cheek in surprise after Natarle had left. It still felt warm, as if that ghost soft brush of affection and gratitude still lingered on her flesh.. If this was a hint at the real Natarle Badgiruel beneath the military training then she hoped whatever had caused this change turned out well. Natarle could be scary at the best of times, an emotionally wounded ensign did not bear thinking about.
Murrue opened the door and gasped. It had been a long time since anyone had bought her flowers and this delicate arrangement was in an unusual modern clay vessel, clearly something special. Someone with taste and funds had bought this for her. The mystery was solved as soon as she plucked the message card from it. The card was unsigned, but the regularity of the romanji and the nondescript, unshowy black ink made it clear. Murrue knew who had written this and got the hint at once.
A knock at the door alerted Natarle and she quickly sorted herself out with some difficulty. She hoped her hunch was right, otherwise she'd expended a lot of time and energy getting dolled up for nothing.
Murrue nearly dropped her bottle of wine. Sweet Jesus Natarle looked good in that formal kimono, but then she'd made an effort herself and she knew she looked good. The hunger and fascination in Natarle's expression only made her feel more smug and she closed the distance between them decisively for a kiss.
They somehow got the door closed before the kiss got too intense as Natarle pressed hard into Murrue, roughly sliding her hands down Murrue's back to grope her in a somewhat frank manner. Heavy silk parted as Murrue slid her hand into the skirt of the kimono, her hand travelling up the smooth leg and under the constricting obi. It was an erotic sight, Natarle's exposed lower half contrasting with the demurely clad upper body.
Natarle stepped away, getting her breath under control. 'Dinner should be ready.'
Murrue gawped then laughed as the satisfied tone of voice sank in. She had been caught out!