storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2009-10-01 11:18 am
storypaint) wrote2009-10-01 11:18 am
Woman is at Once Apple and Serpent (Clow/Yuuko)
Title: Woman is at Once Apple and Serpent
Fandom: xxxHOLiC
Length: 929 words
Pairing: Clow/Yuuko
Prompt: n/a
Other: Title from Heinrich Heine. PG for sexual implications.
Excerpt: Clow nodded, and smiled, and bought fruit for the pie. When he returned to the shop, Yuuko was at repose across the kitchen table. She was lying on her back, head propped up on her arms, but she slithered to her feet when he walked in, adjusting her dress in a manner that managed to show more than it hid.
The man at the grocery told him he thought she was a geisha who'd purchased her own freedom or maybe married an "understanding" man, the last said with lowered voice and lifted eyebrow. She wore the most elaborate kimono, but her attitude was anything but deferential.
Clow nodded, and smiled, and bought fruit for the pie. When he returned to the shop, Yuuko was at repose across the kitchen table. She was lying on her back, head propped up on her arms, but she slithered to her feet when he walked in, adjusting her dress in a manner that managed to show more than it hid.
He could ask why, but it was more fun to guess, and he busied himself with some theories as he hung up his outer robes, sending the coat rack gently back into the other room with a meaningful pat. She stopped it with her foot and he admired her pale, well-turned leg before giving the coat rack enough magic to jump the obstacle.
She frowned; he grinned and tied his sleeves up before washing the apples in the sink.
"You are awake early today," he observed, staring out the window at the sun, which was climbing in the sky instead of descending.
"I know," she answered crossly. "For some reason, the curtains were drawn in my room at eight o'clock this morning." Her tone said that the person who had dared do such a thing would face myriad and various punishments for it.
"It's a very nice day out," Clow answered, running his hand across her kitchen drawers without opening them. He found the one with the apple peeler in it and rescued it from the back of the drawer.
"I thought I would come in here and give myself up for dead," she continued, "but I thought it might not be noticed unless I chose a very visible place to leave my body."
She settled dramatically into a chair at the table then. Clow picked up his apples and sat down across from her with a knife and the peeler. He reached across the table and poked her with the blunt end.
"Of course I would notice, Yuuko," he answered, "though perhaps not until around two in the afternoon."
He began peeling apples and she began stealing slices, still sulky.
"If you do that there won't be enough for the pie," he answered calmly, stealing a piece back from her, his fingers lingering warmly on hers. He ate it, smiling at the good sharp taste.
"You just ate a piece," she pointed out, as he knew she would. She crossed her legs and her toes brushed against his calf under the table. Somehow he managed not to cut himself with the knife. He sliced the last few pieces and then got up to get the pie crust out of the fridge. Her eyes tracked his movements as she lazily rested her head in her hands.
"How long have you been awake?" she whined. "Did you even come to bed last night?"
"Long enough," he answered; and then, "the owner of that little grocery down the street thinks that you're a retired geisha."
She laughed. "You told him I was, didn't you?" she said, her eyes a challenge.
"No," he answered cheerfully, "I told him you were a demon."
She threw an apple slice at him, but then considered. "Could be good for business if people think that."
"They don't find your shop unless they need you, anyway," Clow pointed out, layering apple slices into the crush, sprinkling in cinnamon sugar.
"Which doesn't explain you, however," she answered, pointing at him, and all he could do was laugh.
"It doesn't?" he said innocently when he could speak again. He finished with the apple slices and but there was a piece that wouldn't quite fit.
"Would you like it?" he asked, leaning across the table. She nodded and reached for it, but he fed it to her instead, his fingers light on her lips.
Their eyes met for a promising moment before he turned away and busied himself with the top crust, pressing his thumbs into the soft dough. The shop was beginning to warm with the oven, and he put the pie in carefully to bake before turning back around and leaning against the counter with an air of a job well-done.
"You have flour on your nose," she informed him. He brushed at it, nearly crossing his eyes, and she giggled before sweeping up out of her chair and wiping it off with her thumb. It had somehow managed to dab itself right under his glasses frame. She wiped her hand on his shirt but strode toward the door again before he could protest. (Not that he would protest for any reason other than seeing her great amusement at teasing him; flour came out of clothing without any problem.)
She rested her hand on the frame, looked over her shoulder, and yawned. "I'm going back to bed."
Clow gave a put-upon expression. "But I just put the pie in."
"And?" She lifted an eyebrow. "It won't be done for a while."
"That's exactly the problem, my dear," he answered, "because it means I won't be able to join you."
"Serves you right," she returned. "You shouldn't have woken me up."
He listened to her steps fade down the hall, and looked accusingly at the oven for a moment. Then he did a little mental math.
"An hour. That's long enough," he mumbled to himself. Smiling cheerfully, he followed after her.
Fandom: xxxHOLiC
Length: 929 words
Pairing: Clow/Yuuko
Prompt: n/a
Other: Title from Heinrich Heine. PG for sexual implications.
Excerpt: Clow nodded, and smiled, and bought fruit for the pie. When he returned to the shop, Yuuko was at repose across the kitchen table. She was lying on her back, head propped up on her arms, but she slithered to her feet when he walked in, adjusting her dress in a manner that managed to show more than it hid.
The man at the grocery told him he thought she was a geisha who'd purchased her own freedom or maybe married an "understanding" man, the last said with lowered voice and lifted eyebrow. She wore the most elaborate kimono, but her attitude was anything but deferential.
Clow nodded, and smiled, and bought fruit for the pie. When he returned to the shop, Yuuko was at repose across the kitchen table. She was lying on her back, head propped up on her arms, but she slithered to her feet when he walked in, adjusting her dress in a manner that managed to show more than it hid.
He could ask why, but it was more fun to guess, and he busied himself with some theories as he hung up his outer robes, sending the coat rack gently back into the other room with a meaningful pat. She stopped it with her foot and he admired her pale, well-turned leg before giving the coat rack enough magic to jump the obstacle.
She frowned; he grinned and tied his sleeves up before washing the apples in the sink.
"You are awake early today," he observed, staring out the window at the sun, which was climbing in the sky instead of descending.
"I know," she answered crossly. "For some reason, the curtains were drawn in my room at eight o'clock this morning." Her tone said that the person who had dared do such a thing would face myriad and various punishments for it.
"It's a very nice day out," Clow answered, running his hand across her kitchen drawers without opening them. He found the one with the apple peeler in it and rescued it from the back of the drawer.
"I thought I would come in here and give myself up for dead," she continued, "but I thought it might not be noticed unless I chose a very visible place to leave my body."
She settled dramatically into a chair at the table then. Clow picked up his apples and sat down across from her with a knife and the peeler. He reached across the table and poked her with the blunt end.
"Of course I would notice, Yuuko," he answered, "though perhaps not until around two in the afternoon."
He began peeling apples and she began stealing slices, still sulky.
"If you do that there won't be enough for the pie," he answered calmly, stealing a piece back from her, his fingers lingering warmly on hers. He ate it, smiling at the good sharp taste.
"You just ate a piece," she pointed out, as he knew she would. She crossed her legs and her toes brushed against his calf under the table. Somehow he managed not to cut himself with the knife. He sliced the last few pieces and then got up to get the pie crust out of the fridge. Her eyes tracked his movements as she lazily rested her head in her hands.
"How long have you been awake?" she whined. "Did you even come to bed last night?"
"Long enough," he answered; and then, "the owner of that little grocery down the street thinks that you're a retired geisha."
She laughed. "You told him I was, didn't you?" she said, her eyes a challenge.
"No," he answered cheerfully, "I told him you were a demon."
She threw an apple slice at him, but then considered. "Could be good for business if people think that."
"They don't find your shop unless they need you, anyway," Clow pointed out, layering apple slices into the crush, sprinkling in cinnamon sugar.
"Which doesn't explain you, however," she answered, pointing at him, and all he could do was laugh.
"It doesn't?" he said innocently when he could speak again. He finished with the apple slices and but there was a piece that wouldn't quite fit.
"Would you like it?" he asked, leaning across the table. She nodded and reached for it, but he fed it to her instead, his fingers light on her lips.
Their eyes met for a promising moment before he turned away and busied himself with the top crust, pressing his thumbs into the soft dough. The shop was beginning to warm with the oven, and he put the pie in carefully to bake before turning back around and leaning against the counter with an air of a job well-done.
"You have flour on your nose," she informed him. He brushed at it, nearly crossing his eyes, and she giggled before sweeping up out of her chair and wiping it off with her thumb. It had somehow managed to dab itself right under his glasses frame. She wiped her hand on his shirt but strode toward the door again before he could protest. (Not that he would protest for any reason other than seeing her great amusement at teasing him; flour came out of clothing without any problem.)
She rested her hand on the frame, looked over her shoulder, and yawned. "I'm going back to bed."
Clow gave a put-upon expression. "But I just put the pie in."
"And?" She lifted an eyebrow. "It won't be done for a while."
"That's exactly the problem, my dear," he answered, "because it means I won't be able to join you."
"Serves you right," she returned. "You shouldn't have woken me up."
He listened to her steps fade down the hall, and looked accusingly at the oven for a moment. Then he did a little mental math.
"An hour. That's long enough," he mumbled to himself. Smiling cheerfully, he followed after her.