李杏 | Frances J., a lion-hearted girl (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
perfectworry) wrote2012-12-05 10:06 pm
perfectworry) wrote2012-12-05 10:06 pm
[shared 'verse: cactus flower (jazz remix)] Naughty
title: Naughty
verse: Cactus Flower (Jazz Remix)
community:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
writerverse
prompt: Phase #5: Challenge #3: List o' Doom: Δ (#1: not nearly naked enough)
word count: 1045
rating: PG13
summary: Mariel spends the night before Christmas with the Scarlett family.
notes: no, really, it's just a coincidence that Mariel in this shares a name with Mariel/Salomé from the People's Republic. they're completely different people.
also, historical accuracy? what historical accuracy. sorry?
Aya and Mariel hurried home through the snowy night, holding hands and slipping on the ice. Aya reached out to catch snowflakes and Mariel steadied her when she slipped and swayed.
Mr and Mrs Scarlett followed close behind, sedate and dignified as their flapper daughter was foolish and gay. Mr Scarlett smiled at the simple joy of Christmas Eve, humming snatches of the songs sung at midnight mass, while Mrs Scarlett frowned at her daughter - and her daughter's sweetheart.
Feeling Mrs Scarlett's glare, Mariel dared a quick glance over her shoulder.
"Ms Scarlett," she whispered, as Aya stumbled against her rather gratuitously. Her hand slipped also and Mariel pushed her away under the pretense of offering her help up the treacherous stairs. "Honestly, not in front of your mother. She has no goodwill towards me."
"She has no goodwill towards anyone," pouted Aya. She turned to peer over Mariel's shoulder at her mother, holding her father's hand as she climbed the front steps,
"Be that as it may, I think she wants me crucified."
Aya began to say that Mariel shouldn't be so silly when Mrs Scarlett frowned mightily at her while they waited in the cold for Mr Scarlett to find his keys, having dismissed the butler and the rest of their staff for the holiday.
Mariel caught the door and held it open, nodding to Mr and Mrs Scarlett as they entered. Mrs Scarlett swept imperiously past. Aya pulled a haughty face, imitating her mother's stiff posture and turned-up nose. Mariel had to stifle a laugh.
Aya pulled the door shut and then remained still and quiet, waiting for her mother's footsteps to recede up the stairs. No sooner had the sound faded did she push Mariel against the door and kiss her passionately.
Mariel, taken by surprise with nowhere to go, turned to the side. Aya folded her arms and frowned. "I've been waiting to do that all night."
"Thank you for waiting until we were out of sight of your parents," Mariel paused, "and the priest, but please, Ms Scarlett, the doorknob is breaking my back."
"Oops." Aya giggled. She took Mariel's hand and lead her up the stairs, creeping along silently. "I don't want Santa to know I'm being naughty," she whispered. "I tried so hard to be a good girl this year."
Mariel bit her fingers to keep from laughing too loudly. Aya smacked her on the shoulder with her long silk gloves. "Shh, shh, sheik. Be quiet."
Hand in hand, they crept down the hallway to Aya's room.
The Scarlett family had, through Aya, invited Mariel to dinner and to stay for Christmas Eve to the morning. They had entertained in the parlor and the dining room downstairs, but crossing the threshold into Aya's room suddenly felt like leaping a great dark chasm between the past and the future.
Mariel followed Aya immediately, touching her wedding ring for reassurance.
The sun went down early in December, and now well past midnight it was completely dark in Aya's room. Mariel saw the dim outlines of furniture in the little light that came in through Aya's lace curtains, and walked carefully over the plush carpet while Aya navigated to her daybed by memory.
She settled onto the mattress and immediately began to undress with no apparent sense of shame. She kicked away her shoes and was beginning to pull off her stockings when Mariel turned around hurriedly. She took off her jacket, belt and shoes and placed them neatly on the floor by the foot of the bed. After a moment's consideration, she pulled the wallet from her pocket and stuffed it in her shoe.
If Aya had been expecting an audience, she didn't let Mariel's disinterest or shame set her back. Instead, clad only in her nightgown (altogether not warm enough for late December), she sat perched on the edge of her bed, waiting for Mariel.
"Come here, sheik, let me help you."
Mariel paused in the process of removing her tie. Aya came to her instead and pushed her hands away.
She didn't mean to pull it tighter, but that was the result of her attempt.
"Ms Scarlett, my dear," said Mariel. "Please stop helping, I think you're choking me."
"Oops, sorry!" Aya giggled again and waved her hands in front of her face as Mariel loosened her tie again and undid the knot. "I've never done that before."
"I should hope not," said Mariel, feigning severity and crossing her arms across her chest.
Aya pulled her hands away and undid the top button of her shirt, pausing for a moment. Mariel was about to argue, but Aya continued after only a brief pause, before Mariel had a chance to speak. "Your buttons are all backwards," she said. Mariel laughed. "I don't know much about men's clothing. Women's things are easier to take off in the dark," she added.
Mariel stepped back in surprise and immediately rebuttoned her shirt.
Aya's blush was hidden in the shadows. "I mean," she added timidly, "except for garters."
"Corsets are worse," said Mariel, reaching out to Aya to make peace. There were other nights to worry; this was Christmas Eve, and when dawn came, all too soon, it would come bright and early. There would be presents to open and parents to impress.
Aya smiled. "Come sleep."
"I'll take the floor, Ms Scarlett, honestly," said Mariel, though she lead Aya to the little daybed and pulled back the blankets. Aya sat, and Mariel made to tuck her in, but Aya grabbed her hand.
"You can't sleep on the floor," she said.
"I usually do," Mariel reminded her, "and anyway, your carpet will be an improvement over Vallas's storeroom."
"Come now," insisted Aya. "It's Christmas Eve. I promise not to do anything untoward."
•
Christmas morning dawned bright and clear, the sunlight glittering on the fresh fallen snow like a picture book. Mariel's shirt was wrinkled when she followed Aya down the grand staircase for breakfast, and her hair stuck up in the back despite Aya's valiant attempts to tame it.
Later, she couldn't decide which was more humiliating: Mrs Scarlett's glare of disdain, or Mr Scarlett's little nod of approval when she sat across from Aya at the breakfast table.
verse: Cactus Flower (Jazz Remix)
community:
writerverse prompt: Phase #5: Challenge #3: List o' Doom: Δ (#1: not nearly naked enough)
word count: 1045
rating: PG13
summary: Mariel spends the night before Christmas with the Scarlett family.
notes: no, really, it's just a coincidence that Mariel in this shares a name with Mariel/Salomé from the People's Republic. they're completely different people.
also, historical accuracy? what historical accuracy. sorry?
Aya and Mariel hurried home through the snowy night, holding hands and slipping on the ice. Aya reached out to catch snowflakes and Mariel steadied her when she slipped and swayed.
Mr and Mrs Scarlett followed close behind, sedate and dignified as their flapper daughter was foolish and gay. Mr Scarlett smiled at the simple joy of Christmas Eve, humming snatches of the songs sung at midnight mass, while Mrs Scarlett frowned at her daughter - and her daughter's sweetheart.
Feeling Mrs Scarlett's glare, Mariel dared a quick glance over her shoulder.
"Ms Scarlett," she whispered, as Aya stumbled against her rather gratuitously. Her hand slipped also and Mariel pushed her away under the pretense of offering her help up the treacherous stairs. "Honestly, not in front of your mother. She has no goodwill towards me."
"She has no goodwill towards anyone," pouted Aya. She turned to peer over Mariel's shoulder at her mother, holding her father's hand as she climbed the front steps,
"Be that as it may, I think she wants me crucified."
Aya began to say that Mariel shouldn't be so silly when Mrs Scarlett frowned mightily at her while they waited in the cold for Mr Scarlett to find his keys, having dismissed the butler and the rest of their staff for the holiday.
Mariel caught the door and held it open, nodding to Mr and Mrs Scarlett as they entered. Mrs Scarlett swept imperiously past. Aya pulled a haughty face, imitating her mother's stiff posture and turned-up nose. Mariel had to stifle a laugh.
Aya pulled the door shut and then remained still and quiet, waiting for her mother's footsteps to recede up the stairs. No sooner had the sound faded did she push Mariel against the door and kiss her passionately.
Mariel, taken by surprise with nowhere to go, turned to the side. Aya folded her arms and frowned. "I've been waiting to do that all night."
"Thank you for waiting until we were out of sight of your parents," Mariel paused, "and the priest, but please, Ms Scarlett, the doorknob is breaking my back."
"Oops." Aya giggled. She took Mariel's hand and lead her up the stairs, creeping along silently. "I don't want Santa to know I'm being naughty," she whispered. "I tried so hard to be a good girl this year."
Mariel bit her fingers to keep from laughing too loudly. Aya smacked her on the shoulder with her long silk gloves. "Shh, shh, sheik. Be quiet."
Hand in hand, they crept down the hallway to Aya's room.
The Scarlett family had, through Aya, invited Mariel to dinner and to stay for Christmas Eve to the morning. They had entertained in the parlor and the dining room downstairs, but crossing the threshold into Aya's room suddenly felt like leaping a great dark chasm between the past and the future.
Mariel followed Aya immediately, touching her wedding ring for reassurance.
The sun went down early in December, and now well past midnight it was completely dark in Aya's room. Mariel saw the dim outlines of furniture in the little light that came in through Aya's lace curtains, and walked carefully over the plush carpet while Aya navigated to her daybed by memory.
She settled onto the mattress and immediately began to undress with no apparent sense of shame. She kicked away her shoes and was beginning to pull off her stockings when Mariel turned around hurriedly. She took off her jacket, belt and shoes and placed them neatly on the floor by the foot of the bed. After a moment's consideration, she pulled the wallet from her pocket and stuffed it in her shoe.
If Aya had been expecting an audience, she didn't let Mariel's disinterest or shame set her back. Instead, clad only in her nightgown (altogether not warm enough for late December), she sat perched on the edge of her bed, waiting for Mariel.
"Come here, sheik, let me help you."
Mariel paused in the process of removing her tie. Aya came to her instead and pushed her hands away.
She didn't mean to pull it tighter, but that was the result of her attempt.
"Ms Scarlett, my dear," said Mariel. "Please stop helping, I think you're choking me."
"Oops, sorry!" Aya giggled again and waved her hands in front of her face as Mariel loosened her tie again and undid the knot. "I've never done that before."
"I should hope not," said Mariel, feigning severity and crossing her arms across her chest.
Aya pulled her hands away and undid the top button of her shirt, pausing for a moment. Mariel was about to argue, but Aya continued after only a brief pause, before Mariel had a chance to speak. "Your buttons are all backwards," she said. Mariel laughed. "I don't know much about men's clothing. Women's things are easier to take off in the dark," she added.
Mariel stepped back in surprise and immediately rebuttoned her shirt.
Aya's blush was hidden in the shadows. "I mean," she added timidly, "except for garters."
"Corsets are worse," said Mariel, reaching out to Aya to make peace. There were other nights to worry; this was Christmas Eve, and when dawn came, all too soon, it would come bright and early. There would be presents to open and parents to impress.
Aya smiled. "Come sleep."
"I'll take the floor, Ms Scarlett, honestly," said Mariel, though she lead Aya to the little daybed and pulled back the blankets. Aya sat, and Mariel made to tuck her in, but Aya grabbed her hand.
"You can't sleep on the floor," she said.
"I usually do," Mariel reminded her, "and anyway, your carpet will be an improvement over Vallas's storeroom."
"Come now," insisted Aya. "It's Christmas Eve. I promise not to do anything untoward."
Christmas morning dawned bright and clear, the sunlight glittering on the fresh fallen snow like a picture book. Mariel's shirt was wrinkled when she followed Aya down the grand staircase for breakfast, and her hair stuck up in the back despite Aya's valiant attempts to tame it.
Later, she couldn't decide which was more humiliating: Mrs Scarlett's glare of disdain, or Mr Scarlett's little nod of approval when she sat across from Aya at the breakfast table.