Avon/Jenna, #15, sil vous plait :)
15. The way you slam your body into mine reminds me I'm alive. (Blake's 7, Avon/Jenna)
A/N: I was working on some Avon/Jenna pre-canon stuff and I'm using this as a shameless excuse to play with it. (Takes place after 1x04, "Time Squad")
"Teach someone else to fly this thing," Avon snarls, panic-laced adrenaline still careening through his veins. Jenna rolls her eyes and slams him against the bulkhead again, pressing her mouth to his so hard that he tastes blood--hers or his, it doesn't matter.
It isn't the first time they've dragged one another into bed in the high, giddy aftermath of a life-or-death scenario, but it will probably be the last. It's becoming too risky; soon, the price will be too high. Already she's too close to their new fearless leader. (Avon is deliberately not examining his own reactions to the man. He instinctively knows Blake is going to get them all killed.) (He is deliberately forgetting that he mistrusts instinct.)
They've barely been on the ship long enough to sort out the crew accommodations, but Jenna has clearly claimed the room she's dragged him into--it already smells like her. Avon knows what she smells like, has done for years, since long before they'd found themselves prisoners together, first on the London and now on the Liberator ("We aren't prisoners." "Aren't we."), and as she strips him bare and pushes him onto her bunk, he buries his face in her neck, inhaling. She's alive and so is he, and isn't that the only goal?
He'd been somewhere he shouldn't have been, and only a smuggler had been willing to get him away. ("I don't sleep with cargo." "A pity.") A long and tedious trip, enlivened by unexpected pursuit ships. ("Avon! Take the helm!" "Are you trying to get us killed?!") He hated flying, and he loathed that weakness in himself, but nothing he did seemed to make it any easier. But he'd taken the helm then, just as he had today, and saved her life. (Saved Blake's life, for all the good it would do any of them.)
Heroism, in his opinion, has too high a price. Being alive, on the other hand, has its compensations... ("I thought you didn't sleep with cargo." "You just stopped being cargo.") And the way Jenna climbs on top of him, rides him without thought or pity, puts his hands on her breasts and snaps at him to stop playing around, damn you, Avon, is perhaps the best reminder of what it means to be alive.
It won't be the last time they face death together, he and Jenna. But it's the last time for this. It has to be. It's part of being alive. And Avon knows he can't afford this luxury again.
