Disclaimer: That many diamonds, you know I don't own it.
Author's Note: Rated for innuendos of mature themes. Takes place during "Walls".
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What's it like to have to work with your crush every day…
Spellbound
There was no better place to be on assignment than snug in the company of two of her favorite things in the whole wide world. To her right, a steadily growing pile of uncut but still beautiful diamonds—a girl's best friend, as the old adage went. And to her left, in his blue-striped, pressed-to-perfection uniform…
Ah, Sky.
His tall, lanky frame had its perks. In their current task of gem-gathering over the lot, he had to bend over quite far to collect the glittering stones that littered the ground. Sometimes he squatted down if there was a particularly large cluster of them in one area to pick up. Either way, the view was great.
But what really captivated her, even more so than his tight behind, were his hands. She watched them every time he came over to deposit another handful of diamonds on their conical pile. His fingers were long and slender, unusually elegant for a man, she thought. They were good for catching a Lightball, for squeezing the trigger on their blasters, for bandaging her hypothetical sprained ankle in a first-aid seminar. She imagined they would also be good for massages, for handholding in the rain, for lovemaking in the dark if he ever decided he had an interest in such things.
Was it strange that she was so interested in a man's hands? She didn't think so, not when her own had an utterly unique property, a gift no one else on the planet and maybe in the universe had. She could turn her hands into any element she touched. Often the element she chose was hard and unyielding: iron or stone or a potent alloy, because she used her power always in a combative capacity. And because her chameleon hands were such choice weapons, she took very good care of them. She cleansed them often, and moisturized them, bought expensive creams to make them soft, and decorated them with nail polish and little doodles from her gel-ink pens.
Perhaps also not surprisingly, she was a bit of a tactile soul. She liked cuddles and rubs, hugs and affectionate petting. Too bad her current love interest didn't care for demonstrations, especially when he had the perfect hands for them (among other parts!). Luckily for her, she also enjoyed a good old-fashioned brawl sometimes. That was more to her interest's tune.
She watched Sky deposit his last batch of diamonds onto the pile and then go over to his patrol cycle to retrieve a water bottle. The streamlined design of their uniform made him all limbs, and he moved with an easy grace that was inversely proportional to his awareness of it.
"This is ridiculous. I should be debriefing Cruger, not babysitting a bunch of reflective rocks."
What people didn't seem to notice about Sky was that he whined, quite often actually. They never noticed because he was so good at masquerading it as self-righteousness.
"Try millions of dollars worth of reflective rocks."
He wasn't as impressed by shiny, expensive things. "Whatever. It's obvious Jack wants to keep me as far away from the action as possible. He feels threatened by me, knows that I should've been the Red Ranger."
Oh no, honey, don't arch your eyebrows like that again. It makes you look like a—what was it Bridge said once? A Northern hawk owl.
"Come on, Sky. Jack had nothing to do with that."
He did exactly what a Northern hawk owl did; he glared at you from way up high.
"Whatever, Syd."
She watched for a moment him curling those erotic fingers around a suggestively shaped bottle. She watched his lips nurse the spout. He sat on a crate, all angles with those long limbs of his. His back very straight. Very erect, like how some women preferred their men…
She chucked a diamond at him. It bounced off his chest and landed between his legs. That got him to put down the damn water bottle.
"Knock it off." He picked up the gem and tossed it back onto the pile.
Oooh. "Or what?" She lobbed another gem. It hit his upper arm this time. "Gonna call my parents?"
Now he looked at her. "Seriously. Don't test me, or you'll be sorry."
Make me sorry, gorgeous.
She hit him with a third gem. He got up. He moved with the speed and purpose of a hunting jungle cat. He stalked up to her as she smirked and…
Splash.
What a bastard. Now her scalp was cold, and her uniform—top half—was wet. And what was the dunking worth but this: a grinning, giggling, giant goofball who was hardly…well, okay, who was still cute. But it wasn't hard to glare at him bitingly, so long as the sex god vibe was broken.
"It took me looking like this to get a smile out of you?"
That shut him up. Good.
He cleared his throat, as if he were embarrassed to be caught laughing, and turned away. "Very funny."
Actually, what was funny was that some of the water he'd dumped over her head had somehow gotten on his crotch. Now it looked like—well, maybe it would be better if she didn't look there.
He went back to his crate, and she followed. "No, it looks good on you!" Not that that was very hard to do "You know, if you'd spend a little more time with the team and not be such a loner—"
Fingers tucked into a fist surrounded by a blue corona as he put up a forcefield between them. She wasn't going to get anything out of him but a view after this point. She left him alone, turned around and went back to her diamonds. But that didn't mean she missed his arch gaze meander to her backside. Uh huh. She ought to take him down and maul him for that, not a bad idea if the feeling was mutual.
His hands were toying idly with the water bottle again. Was there a reason guys always sat with their hands in the vicinity of their crotch? They never rested them on their knees, or at their sides, or on the outward face of the leg. They always had their hands resting in the space in between, as if the family jewels were in constant peril whenever they lounged. Maybe it was a survival instinct. In any case, it was another situation in which two good things were in the same place…
Diamonds. Focus on the diamonds. There was no better place to be than in the company of two of her favorite things in the whole wide world. Right in front of her, a voluminous pile of brilliantly sparkling diamonds. And to her left…
"One man to guard all these diamonds?"
It wasn't at all about the diamonds. It had never been about the diamonds.
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Author's
Comment: This was an experiment in writing style, with a bit
of a scramble to find a decent ending. I think I'm getting the hang
of this drabble business! Hope ya'll enjoy!
