Title: archaeology is overrated
Author: MM-Kokopelli
Pairing: Dominic/Anemone
Fandom: Eureka SeveN
Prompt:other worlds, #40
Word Count: 706
Disclaimer: There is no ownage. Which is sad. But whatever.
When he got into the adventuring business, they made it sound like there would be pretty girls, alcohol, pretty girls, treasure, pretty girls, international fame, and pretty girls. Or at least, that's what the guys had said about it (well, he supposes that they were raving drunk, but still), complete with the four mentions of pretty girls.
Well, maybe there is some alcohol, and some treasure, and a little bit of international fame. But right now, he is really missing the "pretty girls" part of the whole deal.
"Let go of me, you cretin!" He feels a sharp pain somewhere on his neck as he runs like hell, hearing the shouts of angry natives with darts and poison-tipped spears behind him. The girl he has thrown over his shoulder is unappreciative (and probably not pretty, he hasn't bothered to look under the ceremonial gold mask yet), and somehow able to speak English, all while continuing to gnaw on his ear in protest of her current position.
He decides that it would be smartest to keep silent, and continues racing through the overheated jungle, some gold jingling in his rucksack.
When they finally outrun the very, very angry natives who were very, very homicidal over his impromptu entrance into their oh-so-important-and-special ceremony, he sets her down, none-to-gently (because his ear really freaking hurts, stupid native girls with stupid extra-sharp canines), she takes off the mask and scowls at him.
She has pink (pink? The hell? What kind of Amazonian genetics did that come from?) hair and purple (holy…) eyes and the most irritated expression he has ever seen on a female face.
And she was pretty. Sort of. In an irritated, get-away-from-me-you-freak kind of way, which he didn't find all that attractive. Really. He didn't.
Of course, as he's looking at her, she decides to slap him.
After a few seconds of pain and stars exploding (because that hurt), he decides to get a few things straight with this girl that he saved from certain cutting-open-and-removing-important-things-like-hearts-and-small-intestines-and-ew.
She gets ready to slap him again, but he's prepared this time, so he grabs her wrist, winces as she bites his fingers, and begins.
"Look, girl—"
"My name is Anemone, you—" She looks like she's going to go on and on and use every curse word known to man, so he cuts her off in a hurry.
"Okay, Anemone, whatever, but I just saved you from certain removal of inner organs for your stupid sun god, so could you please stop trying to bite me to death? I mean, I don't need a lot, just a little gratitude."
(And my body intact, he adds in his head.)
She scowls at him (and it might have been a cute one. Maybe, but he didn't think she was pretty because denial is his forte and she tried to bite his ear off. Yeah…), and they stand there in the clearing underneath the rainforest canopy. Crickets chirp. Howler monkeys howl, and a sloth makes it across a twenty-foot stretch of overgrowth. He knows this because he was watching the sloth the entire time it progressed forwards.
Finally, she holds out a hand, her expression still insolent, and they shake on it—though she doesn't miss the opportunity to pinch his wrist with her nails. After he winces, then they make their way together through the jungle, avoiding things that sound like blow darts or war cries to try to make it back to a base, any base, before they are speared to death. (He thinks that it would be an unfortunate end, what with the lack of pretty girls around, and that would mean the whole trip would be a total waste.)
Five days later, they are on a boat to London, and he is still bitter about the ear biting, and she is still not acknowledging the whole "sacrifice to the sun god" thing, and all the other passengers are placing bets on when they'll just face their feelings and get together already.
It takes a lot of drinks, about two hours worth of coaxing, and thirty dollars for one of the betting men to get him to admit that maybe, just maybe, there might be some pretty girls around.
um, this isn't like they said
FIN