For Fanfic100 at Livejournal, I have to do 100 Marcus/Susan-centric fics based on prompts.
Title: Childish Games
Prompt: 'Children'
He's playing with children. His eyes dance as they giggle and run circles 'round him; they flip his cloak up over his face and he grabs the closest one, a little girl, and tickles her.
The sound resounds through the room, and as Susan Ivanova watches, she smiles. She wonders if he knows how much of a clown he's making himself, and she wonders if she still has it in herself to be that way. It looks much more scintillating than paperwork.
Clearing his face of cloth, Marcus looks up at her and grins. He ruffles a little one's blonde hair and extricates himself from the throng, to stand next to her. She gingerly pats his hair back, to make him look a little less like an ape, and regards him with guarded amusement.
"You make them seem so happy. I almost can't believe they're the same kids." They leave the conference room, today a temporary daycare, and enter a larger room outside. Chairs surround the table that used to be in the room next door. They sit, waiting for Stephen and the Captain to join them to discuss the orphan situation in Brown Sector.
Marcus smiles, just a little, in appreciation. "They just want someone who cares a little. It's hard enough living in Brown Sector when you're old enough to take care of yourself. I can't imagine having to grow up there alone." He doesn't mention the hardships he sees there almost daily; he knows she knows he lives in Brown, though probably not exactly where.
He imagines, knowing the living conditions of many, the life of a child Lurker. The thought nearly makes his blood run cold.
Across from him, Susan leans back in her chair and fidgets with her pen absentmindedly. Watching her, his train of thought changes and he bites back a smile; he wonders if she even notices what she's doing. It smacks as something rather Human, instead of Commander; who would have thought.
"It almost surprises me," she says teasingly, "that you don't have any children."
"Is that an offer, Commander?" He replies. His own audacity shocks him, but he manages to keep a straight face.
For a moment, she stares at him, open-mouthed. Slowly, an appreciative grin spreads; so- he knows how to play.
She sits up very tall, tilts down her head, and smiles: this is her stance for the game. "That depends on what you're willing to give up."
Her implications are not lost on him, though this is not their usual kind of game. He knows he is playing with fire, but he doesn't care.
He nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders. "I'm a poor man. Sorry to disappoint, but there's really not much to give." The room's atmosphere changes quite rapidly, and they both notice it. Watching her, waiting for her reply, he knows it's more than just a game; there's too much truth in his words.
He locks with her eyes; she leans slightly across the table, like a chess player.
Stephen, walking in the room, raises his eyebrows. "Commander, Marcus," he acknowledges, "talking about children?"
Marcus smiles. "Quite."