#devildvg

  MF 17

ooc: Would it be okay if I continued this or nah?

Send ‘*’ to kiss my muse full on the lips.

Alex is beginning to wonder if maybe she gives off some sort of metaphorical or, hell, even supernatural Bat Symbol to other lesbian and bisexual women.  Maybe it’s the haircut—or the clothes.  (Lately, she’s begun to realize that her wardrobe is very, very stereotypically lesbian.  Apparently.) But, she digresses.  Now a very attractive woman is kissing her, and she’s left wholly shell-shocked.  She can take criminal aliens and toppling human men twice her size easily.  Her dating life?  Or, rather, lack thereof?  She’s hopeless.  She may as well be up a creek.

Still, she isn’t completely useless.  She does still remember to keep her mouth closed.  She doesn’t stutter.  Alex does, however, freeze, and she’s pretty sure that her skin has never been so hot to the touch or as flushed with red.  This is like junior high school all over again, except this time she’s being kissed by someone who isn’t totally repulsive.  At all.  Even a little bit.  Her mouth feels dry.

“Oh,” the sound slips out of its own accord, with very little tact or finesse. “—wow.  Okay.  Uhm.” She blinks in a much too rapid succession, her teeth very briefly catching her own bottom lip.  Sobriety suddenly seems very daunting. “Thanks,” her mouth drops slightly open, and she scrambles to say something more meaningful. “I mean, you know… that was—” she’s floundering.  Euthanasia sounds downright merciful at this point.

When he bit her, she slapped him–wiping his spit off on his cheek. “Don’t test me.” And then she was driving like a bat out of hell. “Yeah, I’m sure you have. Along with being caught and begging a stranger to rescue you. I’m sure you’ve had a lot of practice doing that.”

Grey eyes were sharp on his, “You’re not good at letting people help you, are you?” And she abruptly pulled into a long and winding driveway that branched off in odd directions. And then they were in a garage and she was walking around to his side and wrapping her arm around his middle like an iron band and hauling him out of the car.

“You catch on quick,” he muttered from the back of the van, already looking for something to hold on to so that he could take care of the dislocated shoulder on his own. If it stayed out of socket for too long, it would cause permanent damage. Damage he couldn’t afford if his aim were to stay true. Grunting at the effort it took, he finally opted for the back of her seat, and his yell could be heard outside the van just as the turned into that driveway.