Note: The original request from Rue-the-Marauder: Probably something from Alek's POV when he's emperor, with Deryn storming in one day and slapping him.
The toughest part was trying to figure out why she'd slap him! :D
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Alek is taking tea with his minister of finance, continuing a discussion they began earlier in the week, when the servant at the door attempts to announce Deryn.
It is only an attempt, however, because she stalks past the man and across the room before he can do more than utter the first syllable. She's wearing her flying clothes, including boots that provide a satisfactory stomp even on the fine carpet. Alek stands, forcing the finance minister to rise also - it being something more than poor manners to remain sitting when the emperor isn't - just as Deryn reaches them.
Without preamble, she slaps Alek across the face. Rather hard.
The crack of skin on skin is sharply audible; it doesn't feel very good, either.
"I beg your pardon, madam!" the finance minister exclaims, outraged on Alek's behalf - but much as she did with the footman, Deryn is already steamrolling past.
"You don't play the emperor with me," she says to Alek, furious. "I'll fly whenever I bloody well want to and in whatever I like!"
"It was for your own protection -" he begins, knowing that it's a largely futile effort.
"Barking spiders! I'm pregnant, not made of glass!" Deryn glares at him and points an accusing finger at his face. "You rescind that order right now, Alek, or I'll -"
He catches her wrists (so that she won't be tempted to strike him again) and kisses her. Rather hard.
The finance minister sits down in shock - and then, remembering himself, immediately stands again. Alek ignores it; he and Deryn tend to have that sort of an effect on people even under the best auspices. Besides, he is currently focused on more important matters.
Alek waits until a count of ten, then lets go. Her eyes are large and luminous, the color of the sky outside.
"I want you safe and well," he says, voice soft. "I will not apologize for that."
"I will be safe, ninny," Deryn says. Her ire has been replaced by a wicked gleam of humor: "The question is, will you?"
"Not for another five months, I suspect," he says drily.
She grins.
"I'll rescind the order," he says, "but please -"
"No aerobatics, aye, of course not. I'm not daft… not all the time, anyway," she says. She drops a gentle kiss on the palmprint now decorating his cheek and breathes, "Sorry, love," into his ear.
And with that, she's done. Deryn gives the finance minister an arch look as she sweeps out of the room again. No doubt off to the airfield again, to further terrorize the poor soldiers who have only been following their emperor's orders.
Alek touches his cheek. He finds he's grinning.
After a moment the finance minister recovers enough to manage, "The Empress seems well today."
"Yes," Alek says, pleased. "Indeed she does."
