cactusy | IC contact for lastvoyages

[ Button and fly undone, Root slips her hand into Shaw's underwear and wastes no time finding Shaw's clit, rubbing it. ]

Gonna need a big apartment to fit all that in there

A girl can dream--

[And a girl can give a full-body shiver, her fingers digging into the pillow underneath her hips.]

[ Oh that's so good. More of that reaction, please. Root's fingers move in circles against Shaw's clit. ]

I'm sure it can be arranged. We've got rich friends. I can be persuasive when I want to be.

[ She leans in, kissing where Shaw's neck meets her jaw. ]

Benefits of being the spokesperson for an AI.

[Shaw murmurs, as she trails a hand up Root's side.]

Can it, like. Print money for you when it's not worried about being spotted by Samaritan?

Do you really wanna talk about God right now?

[ Because Root absolutely will, as she slides one finger inside Shaw. ]

I'm about to see God right now.

[She tries to say it like it's a joke, casual and tongue-in-cheek, but the effect is probably lessened a bit by the way she shudders on the exhale and grips the cushion tighter.]

[ It's lessened, but it's so much better too. Root hooks that finger as she fucks Shaw, not letting off the attention she's giving Shaw's clit. ]

Tell me what she looks like. [ Whispered right into Shaw's ear. ]

[Root, you fucking dork. Shaw writhes, trying to hook an leg around Root's to pull her closer, and though she hadn't actually been picturing anything in particular she still says the first thing that comes to mind--]

Bright lights.

[ Bright lights. A cursor blinking on a screen. Neurons firing, current flowing through circuit boards. Human consciousness, tiny points in the cosmos. Mere moments in infinity.

Root smiles against Shaw's neck, pressing her chest against Shaw's, pressing in a second finger. Root will make her see stars. ]

"Streetlights," she clarifies after a moment, hips juttering as she presses up against Root's hand. It's unusual, maybe, but there's an image starting to coelesce here.

[ No testing now. Root strokes harder with her hand and thumb. ]

She never sleeps. [ Root nips at Shaw's earlobe. ] She lights the way through the darkness.

Are you reciting poetry to me right now? Nerd.

[She says it breathlessly, leaning up to press her forehead against Root's shoulder. It's a moment or two before she adds:]

There were streetlights on in the park that night.

[The night she'd landed herself back in the city after escaping from the Decima facility. The night Root had found her.]

I'm making it up as I go.

[ Her free hand cradles Shaw's head, like on that night. ]

She helped you come back to me. [ Root moans softly. Shaw feels so good around her fingers. ] She brought you home.

I don't actually think of the Machine as God.

[She slides her fingers against Root's wrist, feeling her pulse point.]

But bright lights. That really is what I think of.

[ Root's pulse is fast and firm, caught up in the way Shaw sounds and feels, how they've defied death itself and are together here. Here-and-now. The skin where her fresh tattoo is stings. Root bites her lip.

She could go on and on on this subject, about how the idea of God only makes sense if such a being were like the Machine. About how She heard Root's pleas and answered them. About the way She balances the common good with the least harm in a way that no mythological deity ever could. And she could say that those streetlights are like little stars, guideposts in cities the way stars guided mariners and seafarers in ages past. There's relativity, and the idea that spacetime is cyclical and eternal, beginnings and endless, and that the only real thing is the here-and-now. The only real thing is this, the two of them holding onto each other. ]

If there's a heaven, it's being with you.

I missed you.

[It's a broken refrain by this point, but she doesn't know how else to express the things that Root is saying to her in any other way. She curls her fingers into Root's clothes, tugging her closer.]

Root--

[ With a shuddering breath, Root presses closer, stroking harder with her hand and thumb. ]

Sam. I love you.

Would you want to...

[She pauses, hesitating.]

[ Root does not take that the way it's meant. Her grin goes wicked and adoring. ]

You don't need to ask me permission to come, sweetie.

[ Not today, at least. ]

[Shaw closes her eyes, breathes deeply to make her heart slow its pace a little, and presses her palm flat against Root's stomach.]

No, Root, I mean-- would you want to. Get married, or something.

[ That's such a Shaw way to say it that it's easy not to break stride. Even so, Root's breath catches, fingers shifting on Shaw's head, her other hand slowing a little as it registers that yes, she heard currently: Shaw is asking her to get married. ]

Yes. Yes, Sameen.

Yeah?

[She lifts her head from Root's shoulder, a little - not enough to meet her gaze, but enough to let her kiss her shoulder instead.]

Okay.

[ Shaw will feel more than hear Root laugh, it's so quiet. She's delighted, and she's going to ride this feeling for hours and days and probably longer.

Shaw kisses her shoulder, and Root angles her neck so she can get a good, solid bite under Shaw's ear, because what better way to show how happy she is than marking up her fiancee-- her fiancee!-- in agreed-upon ways? ]

[Shaw shudders again, and very nearly comes right then and there.]

You're sure?

[She asks, simultaneously lifting her head to make eye contact and grinding her hips up against Root's hand.]

[ There's not even a flicker of doubt in Root's eyes as she nods. ]

I've never been more sure of anything in my life.

[ She leans in and rests her forehead on Shaw's. ]

IC contact for lastvoyages

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