Weekly Briefing

[transgenic-girl.livejournal.com]

Rating: PG-13 (at most)
Characters/Pairings: Cain/Gale (can be either Cain/Dg or Jeb/Az)
Note: It is surprisingly hard...er...difficult to write these just vague enough to apply to either couple.
But I'm getting a kick out of it

The squeak that escaped him was nothing like what anyone in the room expected to come from him, especially not with the current subject of the briefing they were all attending being a recent theft of a faraway mine’s geodes. The offender had already been caught, and was deemed not a potential conspirator to take down the Gale line, as had been feared when the precious and volatile crystal had gone missing. Instead it had merely been a vapor-addled teen’s prank, set up by his buddies.

But back to the subject at hand, so to speak…

He quickly covered up the tail end of the embarrassing noise with an obvious cough, one that he doubted any in the room would see as genuine, but at least they pretended and then proceeded to ignore him. “Will you stop that?” he hissed as he sent a sidelong glare, one distinctly lacking in venom, at the dark haired woman seated beside him.

“Stop what?” she blinked innocently at him in that way he just knew meant that she knew damn well what she was doing. And taking her evil pleasure in the fact. The thought was proven correct by the way her hand slipped further up his thigh under the table, drawing dangerously near the place he did not want her hand in the middle of a crowded room. A room alone would be another thing entirely. “Hmm?” she whispered, head bent to keep the sound of their whispering at the corner of the room from being clearly heard by anyone else.

Sending a desperate look at the blonde haired man sitting down the long table from him, he placed a hand over the much smaller one still inching along his inseam, stopping its upward movement. There were some things a father and son did not need to know about each other, and one of them being fondled by a Princess in the middle of the weekly briefing the Prince Consort had insisted on definitely came under that heading.

Also, being exiled to guard duty in the Deadly Desert for said fondling by the Prince Consort’s daughter would be a shame. A damn shame given the way she was grinning at him as her fingers fluttered in place.

Oh gods, he was getting turned on during one of Glitch’s long-winded, and often sidetracked, scientific explanations. Ozma had a special hot place waiting for him when he died, she really did.