Know When to Fold 'Em (Closed for Obuzeti)

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

Jonah’s eyes are blank, but he does holster his gun, much to her relief. Ritchie lives to piss himself another day-and then he steps past her and drifts up to what, honestly, she had figured for a dead guy.

Kara immediately regrets her impulsive outburst in offering the other man up, all of a sudden. She’s not sure what he’s going to do, but the image of him standing over the guy, all compressed and terrible violence-her eyes move to Ritchie a moment before Doc Mitchell blocks her view. There’d been some kind of business card, something. She’ll ask for that and then tell him to get the fuck out of here.

Kara’s pupils were mismatched in size-an ocean of vibrant Caribbean blue iris in one eye, and little more than a strip of it in the other, that pupil dilated far beyond the contraction of the other one.

She hears Lee talk, weak but challenging. Still alive then. She hadn’t been sure, the color his skin had looked-there’s a crack, some kind of nasty crunching pop and a muffled scream as Moray presumably hurts him-and Kara goes shock still before brushing past the Doctor-but Moray just efficiently finishes up.

Yeah. That was a bad call, siccing him on anybody. This was her bad. Was he dead? No, she could see his chest rise and fall. Jesus. What the hell would he even do now? Better to have just killed him, shit-she feels a little sick.

"I think you came out ahead of the competition on this encounter, all told. Where does it hurt, Kara?"

She doesn’t even try to make a joke, just sways a little as she accepts the canteen, the two little painkillers as she shuffles her jacket off. Pops both pills and swallows them dry, lifting the edge of her torn and blood soaked shirt with the now emptied hand almost in afterthought. The delicately boned rib cage didn’t have a hole punched in it, at least-just a nasty mottled bruise already forming where she’d been kicked, distinct enough she can count a few stitches between the rubber sole and leather encased steel that had left the nasty imprint across her side. Two ribs are swollen just at the edge of the bruise. Kara forces a deeper breath-and flinches. Fucking hurts like a bitch. Cracked, probably-she’s not feeling any internal jabs and it don’t look so bad ‘cept that boot imprint, she’d suck it up.

Her soft skinned, taut stomach was also bearing some nasty marks-one right in her solar plexus, the other lower and slightly to the right. She’s got a feeling the earlier stimpack might’ve staunched some internal bleeding. Kara drops the shirt and takes a swig out of the canteen, trying to think.

“Jus’ give me another stimpack Doc, I’m fine.” She’s lost fights before. Her head is killing her and she’s missing pieces of what had happened already, but her face and stomach was feeling better and less battered thanks to the earlier stimpack. She’s lost fights before, she’ll be alright. “Just gonna sleep it off when I can. Ritchie, calm the fuck down, yer giving me anxiety.”

Another swig on the canteen and then she pulls herself together-not quite her usual lazy saunter as she moves over to the man, too dizzy-but not quite as bad off as the trip over. She reaches forward to take his pistol-he flinches-and tosses it off to the side, another drink before she turns and sits right the fuck down on the other end of the couch. She doesn’t want to topple over or some shit. She wishes the canteen held bourbon, but the water had been good too-she’d been thirsty.

“Give me the card Mister Business gave you.” Kara says, and after a brief look of confusion Ritchie snaps to do what she said, producing the piece of cardstock in an instant and offering it over. Kara trades him the canteen but doesn’t even look at the thing, busy rooting around in her own pants pocket, producing a balled up, flattened piece of paper.

“So you guys Fiends or what?”

“We were, and then we set out under Clyde and started our own...our own thing. Mercenary group deal.”

The red head nods, unballing and flattening out her piece of paper. Squints at it.

“We were sent after two other Couriers, but one had already made their delivery. The other still had his-fuzzy dice. Clyde killed him, but I guess the Dice weren’t what Benny was after.”

“Guess not.”

“And then I guess it was just down to you-you were the last one, you was Courier 6 and by process of elimination-had to have the chip. The Chairman leader, Benny, he wanted that chip. He came out with us, this time. I didn’t know he was going to kill you for it, honest.”

“Uh huh.” She didn’t believe him. That was fair-he HADN’T known, but given what had happened elsewhere, it’d been a pretty sure bet. “Well, that ain’t much information, Ritchie.”

The man begins to sweat even more. It was bad enough this crazy lady had laughed so much in that bar, shot Leroy dead and burned Davey, gutted Lee and got Clyde executed-she also apparently had a hulking death machine and a rabid, vicious wolf dog thing at her beck and call. This whole nasty business had never really been his scene in the first place, but he hadn’t wanted to be on chems anymore and Clyde used to be his friend, before the fiends and before the drugs. But this whole job just ripped everything up and stomped on it-if he can escape with his life he’ll count himself lucky.

“It’s some kind of power move.” He continues, wanting desperately to make her happy so she wouldn’t either kill him or else have Moray cripple him too. “Moving against House.”

“Oh yeah, the ‘favor’ he was doing for me so I didn’t have to deal with fallout, that’s right.” Oh shit, he’s made her mad-or something, she suddenly looks temperamental. Ritchie’s eyes flick from her to Moray to Lee to the Doctor-and then back as she spoke again. “How’d he know the chip was for House? My delivery order just has me meeting an agent at the gate of the strip.” She taps the piece of paper she’d just flattened out.

“I don’t know Miss, I-I really don’t know.”

“I wouldn’t have thought the Chairmen would WANT to move against House. He’s got them sitting up all pretty n shit. They don’t like betrayals and scheming and shit, do they…?”

Was she even still talking to him? She looks like she’s talking half to herself-resting her elbows on her thighs and holding her head in her hands as she continues to look over the short delivery order in her lap. She’s pretty roughed up. He feels bad for her-that hadn’t been good business.

Lee had hit her more than a few times on that bar counter, the back of her head had bounced against the wood-not to mention Clyde’s opening strike in the first place-they’d been rougher than they had to be, he thinks-she’s just a little thing. A little thing that had shot him before any of them had said hello, but...still.

Ritchie hesitates, then glances nervously to Doc Mitchell “She uh, she took a pretty nasty hit to the head. C-couple of them.”

“Don’t fucking talk about me like I’m not here, Ritchie.” She shoots him a glance and it’s enough for him to immediately rise up off the couch and back up a pace or two. Somehow the angry flash in her eyes was infinitely more disturbing given how flippant she'd been previously. He glances to the canteen still in his hands- then immediately ducks forward and sets it down on the vacated cushion, almost in offering before backing off again. Her eyes narrow. She’s either going to sic the big man on him or make a crack and shoot him, he’s sure of it.

But she doesn’t. She just turns her head back down to the piece of paper and business card and speaks again, sounding oddly tired.

“...anyway, the Doc’s probably sick of your face. Get the fuck out. Don't come back.”

 

[Obuzeti]

Ritchie, still terrified glances over at Moray, who waves a hand at him negligently - all his attention focused on Kara, who he seats himself beside with a concerned frown. The Fiend glances back and forth between the two of them, and backpedals for the door as best he can - still leaking from the one leg, terrified, capless, alone.

"You probably need to stay awake for awhile to be safe with that concussion, Kara," Jonah says, returning his attention to her. "If you got any caffeine pills, Mitchell, I'd appreciate the purchase of one. That should get us through the danger zone."

Mitchell offers a queasy smile. He's used to the affereffects of violence, but watching a man be executed on his patient table has shaken even him. "On the house."

Jonah gives him a look, then digs in a side pouch and sets twenty caps on the side table beside the couch.

There's a long moment of silence, as Kara nurses her headache, Jonah sits patiently beside her, and Mitchell just glances back and forth between them and the still form laying on the table. Then the doc clears his throat and says, "So, what do I do with - this one?" he says, gesturing at Lee.

"His diaphragm's paralyzed," Moray replies, uninterested. "He'll die before he wakes up. I'll pick up the body in the morning."

Mitchell blows out a breath, not sure whether to be queasily relieved or unnerved at this. "Uh. Good, I guess. I thought you were just going to, y'know, leave him."

"Sloppy," dismisses Moray, which is all the attention span he has for the matter.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

"I was afraid somebody was gonna say that."

A nap sounds so nice too-nice enough that solo, she'd absolutely risk it, cause fuck , man. Sometimes all you do was sleep through pain. But Jonah would either insist on staying awake or worry the whole time, so she better be good.

Dead before he wakes up-ah, good. Curtains for him, then. Kara picks her head up to glance at the guy, then the courier sits up to lean back against the couch, dropping her head against the back of it and closing her eyes a minute. The movement causes the wide strap of her tanktop to slide down over her upper arm some, loosened due to one of the tears on the back of it.

"He was a tool." And honestly? A dead man as soon as he had open palmed slapped her. Seriously, who the fuck does that? She doesn't feel bad for spitting on him.

"Was on top of me when I unzipped his guts." She indicated the blood soaked lower half of her shirt and ruined pants without looking up or opening her eyes. The courier doesn't say anything, but she doesn't fall asleep either-just injects the second stimpack and pops the caffiene pill-before the Doc heads off into his bedroom.

Kara does feel a little bad about that before she drops her head back again.

Silence a long moment. And then the courier slips her fingers through Jonah's on the hand closest to hers. "For a minute..." She murmurs in that softer voice, the one that never lied. "Things weren't so funny, and I lost track of the joke."

She'd never admit to the fear, but the confession was just about as personal and real as Kara got, aside for the tender declarations spoken to him before. The soft.

She thinks about the strange and uncomfortable idea of life being more than just stolen time...in wanting more than passing amusements.

Her fingers tighten.

-*-

Kara was doing better. Well enough she wasn't at risk of toppling over anymore, and alert enough to feel like she could pull her weight should a firefight break out on the way home.

She didn't talk much on the way, fiddling with her closed switch blade-turning it through her fingers as she thought. She did make a crack about having lost her front teeth in a fistfight as a kid, after she'd mouthed off a time too many. Pike she'd said-Maara didn't give a damn if Kara got roughed up like the rest.

They got to their vault and inside of it, and she tossed the usual greeting at ghost Vera, but it didn't sound as amused as usual-and immediately started removing clothing, starting with the torn and bloodied tank top. She wants a shower, she's caked in blood and dirt and dried sweat and just-grimy. She wants to wash all of it off along with her tangled up feelings.

She starts on her boots.

"So yeah. This wasn't personal and I honestly doubt the whole tribe was in on it-House made them what they are, didn't he? They're not big on two timin'. And if that chip IS for House-". Kara shucked out of her ruined, taped up and half legless pants, leaving a trail while heading for the hygiene room.

"-then I better get it back in a hurry, not that I was gonna let Mister Business keep it anyway. Benny may not have had a personal vendetta against me, but I sure as shit got one against him, now."

Kara scowled, the bridge of her nose crinkling up as she remembered his "sad" expression again.

"He didn't have to do me like that. It was bad business, and he went and pissed me off in pretending to feel bad doing it. I'm going to shoot him with his own fucking gun, least that'd be funny."

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah follows along, shedding clothes alongside Kara. Showers have become something of a ritual of theirs - taken together and frequently. Sometimes there's sex involved, but more often it's just the intimacy of it that calls, to close the door and seal the world out, leaving just the two of them and the hot water. Turning that on, he finishes undressing. There's annoyance written on his face in deep frown lines. This looks to be another Big Fucking Thing, which Kara has an amazing talent for being drawn into.

"This smells like Sierra," he mutters. "Some prick wants it all again. And the way he talks - he's moralizing. He's got a crowd to preach to, somewhere. He's not without backup, but more importantly, he has what he needed, and doesn't know that he's safe or that consequences aren't coming. He'll do something fucking stupid real soon, both to get back whatever credit he'll lose over this and because he doesn't want you to run to House about this shit."

Jonah considers for a moment, then shrugs that thought off. "No way to tell how he'd take it, anyways. Better to just fuck Benny and get on with our lives. All the attention he deserves."

The stall door has started to fog over, its salacious imprint coming clear again. Jonah smirks at it - never not amused by this particular memory - and then slides the door wide and steps through, offering a hand back to Kara. "Come on and wash all that off. I'll bring him down, time comes. You aren't alone in this."

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

"No way to tell how he'd take it, anyways. Better to just fuck Benny and get on with our lives. All the attention he deserves."

“Yeah, you’re right-no one seems to know much about House, not even me. I think it’s somebody who just picked up a name and started pretending, but either way-I don’t want to be on his bad side. He’s the biggest shaker and mover there is in these parts, setting up the families and shit, rebuilding the strip. I got the scoop on that from some Omertas. There were contracts and agreements and all sorts of shit, and he’s got some means of enforcing it all. Who knows what’s in that casino of his-I ain’t even been in there.”

Kara chews on that a minute. She doesn’t want to be having to explain this shit to a pissed off head honcho and his securitrons. Plus, her passport was a fake. That might get awkward-she should probably get a legit one at some point, not like she couldn’t afford it these days, unlike when she’d gotten the fake.

“Better to be delivering news of Benny’s betrayal to his agent with the chip in hand, rather than the other way around-but we still can’t go making some giant mess of the Chairmen. We won’t have to.”

With Moray in tow she was infinitely safer, but Kara had gotten along this far by being clever and stacking things in her favor-she didn’t have to make messes. She would bet Lil Devil that not everyone was on board with whatever his plan was-and she could exploit the fact.

Kara felt herself relax some. That’s all this really was-just the age old puzzle of people. Get more than four of them together, and she could come along and turn half against the other half easy-or get in good with one, and have that one get her in good with all of ‘em. On top of that, things go south-Jonah wasn’t going to let anybody touch her. She had the benefit of both of their skillsets, and each covered a lot of what the other lacked. Things would be just fine.

She’s alive and not dead, and so was he. Always a good place to start.

Her eyes stray to the imprint of herself, then his smirk. Her eyes narrow on it, but a smile is playing around her lips. The redhead accepts the hand and steps into the warm spray of water with him.

“Poor bastard had no idea you were part of the picture. Sucks to be him.” Kara starts in with the soap, the door closing to shut the world out-just the two of them down here and in secret, home and together. She draws in a breath-that only stings a little, now-and exhales, feeling better, more content. They’ll get through.

“I swear things aren’t usually this damned exciting...if they were, I probably wouldn’t have had as much time to fuck with you before, ya know?” A grin. She’s definitely feeling better, it looked like. Her eyes glitter from mischief to curiosity as she thinks. “What the hell is the chip so important for, do ya think? Maybe a key or something? Oooh, I wonder what to…”

Kara could not be kept down for long-she was too crazy to crush.

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah hums in acknowledgement, as he squeezes out some of the shampoo and starts working it into Kara's hair. Time and experience with it hasn't lessened any of his fascination with it - still the reddest, most flaming hair he's ever seen, and magnetic to his eyes. Of course, there are other bits of her he likes just as much, but this is his original fascination, and he indulges it freely as he untangles the knots with a gentle hand.

"Oh, I know I was your entertainment," Jonah says, a little dry. "You wouldn't have jumped so hard at the chance if you'd had this kind of shit to do on a regular basis. Maybe waved a little. Sent a card."

He shakes his head. "Chips go in real high-power computer shit, so I guess that's where it goes. Probably plugs into the robots. I'd guess Hoover Dam, but it's a fucking poker chip, so it has something to do with the Strip proper somehow. You'd have to break into House's stuff to find out, and I'm not that eager to start a fight with a Securitron again."

The smile sparks at the corner of Kara's mouth, and just seeing it is a weight off Jonah's chest. He leans down and presses a kiss to her shoulder, affectionate. "This is your specialty. He jumped the gun on you, but you've got a better one at your side. Now he plays your game. Show him how it's done."

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

He really had been the perfect straight man. She’d lived for that some days. Sure, it had been seriously dangerous-but that had been part of the hilarity. Anybody she’d recounted things to always thought she was out of her mind-and they were half right.

That she later would feel similar, maybe even better triumph just in getting him to smile that night around the campfire...well. She’s thinking she’d been more curious about the terrifying mercenary than even she’d figured on. And now here they are.

“Oh, he’s super screwed-I’ve been playing this game for more’n half my life.” Cocky Kara-but she’s more than a little distracted in looking at him, her big blue eyes warm and loving, content. She tips her head back to let the water rinse out the shampoo he’d threaded through her hair.

“You’re my favorite, and I didn’t even have to steal you.” She murmurs as she pulls herself in closer. Skin to skin, her head tipped back to look up at him with a content, softer smile. “I love you, Jonah. Thought I was lucky before, but...” He was the real prize, and she’d never outdo or need anything else. They’d resolve this and then she’d just stick with him, plain and simple.

She wanted whatever time she could get, and that’d still probably never be enough.

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah's eyes soften, witch-green melting and crinkling. His arms slide around her and he leans down again, lips meeting hers in a long, soft kiss under the trickling water. His tongue flicks against hers for a moment, and then he draws back, all his hard edges smoothed away by her love and the water. "I love you," he affirms, no 'too' tagged on, no call and response but an equal fact. "And if I have my way, this will be what I do for the rest of my life."

His hands settle onto her hip and shoulder, a comfortable embrace, and then Jonah's foot sneaks out behind him and snaps up the shower bench from where it had been secured against the wall, which he blindly seats himself on. Kara's drawn with him, in his grasp, and settled sidestraddle onto his lap. With that to resolve the differences in their height, Jonah resumes sprinkling kisses across Kara's face, just - reassuring himself of her physical presence. They hadn't had a real scrap since this discovery of each other, and the immortal fear he'd felt when Benny had pulled the trigger had been more real and more undeniable than anything he'd felt in a very long time - but for this.

She's still wounded, and he takes in her multitude of cuts and bruises, and settles his forehead against hers, breathing in Kara's scent and her presence. "Until the end, you have me," Jonah says, and his words are an oath.

Then, a hint of mischief in his face, a curve of amusement in his lips. "And, as much as I'd like to ride you raw, you're banged up, Kara. Let's dry off and head to bed. Let me take care of you."

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

“Right back at’cha, big guy.”

The oath and his words make her feel embarrassingly warm and fuzzy. Like other things he’s said, she squirrels them away somewhere, locks them up tight where no one could take them away from her. To Jonah, she has value, is treasured. There’s no doubting anything he says-and that he believes in her love and her loyalty is almost as moving, made her feel fiercely protective of him. As she’d honestly been from the start of things, in that bunker.

"And, as much as I'd like to ride you raw, you're banged up, Kara. Let's dry off and head to bed. Let me take care of you."

“Aw.” Kara pretends to pout, but he’s right-she is banged up. Probably wouldn’t stop her, but the last of what he says is tempting, too. She shifts and hugs him tight. “You do take care of me.” She murmurs, color coming to her face for an entirely different reason. He’d been the only one, too.

She’s more tired than she had realized, all of a sudden. The caffeine must be wearing off. "Maybe more of our book?"

 

[Obuzeti]

"That's the plan," Jonah murmurs, as he cuts the water and towels Kara off with gentle hands. She's capable of doing this herself, obviously, but pampering her is a secret delight of his - she never knows quite how to respond to it. He sets the towel over her shoulders and underneath that fiery mane to absorb the water still dripping from it, and then dries himself off too. "Come on, let's go to bed."

They make their way to their bed, and Jonah slips in first and helps Kara in, then retrieves Catcher in the Rye and slips in after her, flipping it open to the bookmarked page. He steals a glance at her - paying attention, as per usual - and the routine of it soothes him as he starts to read, as nothing else yet had. They'd made it home.

~*~

In the morning, Jonah stirs and groans a little, then peers down at Kara, spooned up inside of the arch of his body. The bruises have faded thanks to stimpak magic which he doesn't even vaguely claim to understand, and the cuts are just faint lines now after a night spent restfully healing. She looks normal again, though it's anyone's bet how she actually will feel.

That said, he can guarantee a good morning.

Jonah slips one of the pillows up beside Kara's stomach and gently rolls her over onto it (for support; her breasts aren't small, and having them squashed is not comfortable). She starts to murmur awake, but he just comes to a kneel beside her and starts rubbing firmly into her shoulder blades, working his thumbs into the tight knots in the muscles there. She's a wiry little thing, all wound up most of the time.

"Just lay back for a moment," Jonah murmurs, voice low and rumbly in the mornings, as he moves down to her upper back, where the knots are the most thick. "Let me pamper you."

He hasn't done this before for anyone, really - read a book on it once, found it idly entertaining. Kara deserves everything he can give, though, especially after a day like yesterday.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

For such a vivacious woman, Kara never seems to want to wake up-she sleeps hard and peacefully, just a warm curled thing against him every night. Didn’t really extend to being moved about though-she mumbles something incoherent but might’ve STILL fallen right back into sleep again-were he not suddenly working at tightened, knotted muscles.

“What’re-oooh.” Sleepy confusion melted into an immediate sort of looseness as she relaxed into the propping pillow and the silky sheets. His hands are warm and he’s working at tense spots Kara hadn’t really known where there.

She feels better than she had thought she would-little sore in spots, mostly where contact had been made with bone-her ribs, back of her skull, cheekbone-but it’s more a dull ache than anything. She’d slept well and gotten more of the story she’d briefly mourned the potential loss of last night-and everything good that’d come to her in the form of Jonah was reaffirmed.

“How...how you doin’ that?” She’s not so sure on this pampering business, but it does feel awesome. He has to teach her so she can do it to him, now-though her hands weren't going to be anywhere near as strong.

 

[Obuzeti]

"Massage," Jonah replies, slightly distracted by the focus he has to put into what he's doing. He has to feel out her muscle groups by touch alone, figuring out which have tensed muscles and find the proper way to knead them out - not to mention the softness of her bare skin, clean and glowing, is always distracting on its own. "Read a bit about it. People build up tension in their muscles, and repetitive pressure on them releases it."

He stays silent for a few more moments as his hands slide to her lower back, between her hips and over the tight curve of her butt. Here he has to work with his thumbs more, hooking up and digging into the bands of muscle at her waist. Jonah has to straddle her lower thighs to get at that accurately, though he keeps his weight on his knees instead of just dropping his weight on Kara.

"After this, we'll get breakfast, and talk about the game plan," Jonah finally notes. "But that's for after food. Thinking is for later. Right now, relax."

He's hard, but of course he is - he just woke up. Rather, he's focused on just showering Kara with affection, rather than buttering her up. It's probably the last chance they'll get for awhile to just focus on each other rather than the task at hand, because this smells like a mess in the making of epic proportions. He wants to savor this, now that he's had it.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

“You sure know about a lot of things.” Kara comments, ever curious. He moves down to her lower back and she turns her face forward, dropping her forehead against her crossed arms. It doesn’t hurt exactly, just pressure-and then relief, a loosey goosey sort of feeling that almost melts her into the damned bed.

He talks about their planned morning and Kara nods against her own arms. The indent of Kara's spine and the toned muscle on either side of it, the flare of her hips and the dimple just above her pert rear end-she has a pretty back and neck. Even the little sun tattoo on her shoulder seems to fit, the black ink a sharp contrast to her pale, soft skin. And, of course, all that fiery red hair swept off to the side.

“What, no mess-ahge for you?” She got the second part of the pronunciation right, anyway-but seemingly misheard the first. A teasing tone, but also half serious. Talking despite the issued, soothing request to relax. Kara’s a talker. “You really fight a securitron? Those things ain’t like the protectrons or the brainy guys-I can disable ‘em if I sneak up behind those, but no idea on securitrons. Victor pretends not to know much about himself, and that's the closest I've been to one, really.”

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah shrugs. "If I wasn't hunting, I was in the library: one or the other. No kids around my age in the Regulators. I was either useful or learning to be." It's not a fun memory, so he answers her next implied question instead. "You can try if you want, but it requires a fair amount of strength, and I'm pretty big. Probably not the best idea, all told."

As he works down Kara's back and over her taut derriere to her thighs, he considers the other question, gnawing on a lip. The big robots confused him, honestly. "They're fucking weird. I nailed one that was on the fritz, its targeting chip had gone bad. Sprayed fire everywhere from its guns, but they're just rocking around on a wheel. A grenade knocked it on its ass, and then I blew the tire with a AP round. It crawled around some but I just tossed more grenades on it until it died."

Jonah shrugs, discomforted. "Weird thing is, I searched it for ammunition after. The guns come off pretty easy, but those big shoulder pods are fucking filled with explosive munitions. There's also a grenade launcher on the right arm it just decided not to use for whatever reason. Maybe that's just because of the targeting glitch, but I've never heard mention of them using either weapon on anybody. If it had, I'd've been in pieces from the start. I can't tank a missile."

If he had known about it previously he could have planned around it, but as a surprise gambit in a fight, a shitload of high explosives works pretty good.

He shakes off the memory and goes back to working on Kara's toned thighs. "If you have to toast one, taking out the wheel's the best bet, or damaging the joints there somehow. Once they're hobbled you can probably just sit on top of them and hack them to pieces if you have to."

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

"No other kids with the raiders either. Probably a good thing though." Yeah, not a lot of parents selling off kids for beer money, snrk.

It occurs to Kara that raiders had had the sense not to take her out on their raids and killings, but Jonah's old man hadn't. Maybe it was more cause she would have been in the way or something-what good was a skinny ten year old with a knife?- but still, damn. The only bad scene they'd exposed her to was the massacre of her original gang-and those guys were more owners than anything, no big loss even if it had been bloody fucking terrifying. Suppose she could have done without all the fights she'd lost, but eh-they hadn't made her kill anybody, so fair enough.

She can’t say she was real fond of the man who’d raised him. She might not know much in the way of parenting, but she knew better than kids being on murder missions and shit. She doesn’t want to ask him more about any of that, put him back there-so she chatters on about her own upbringing some more.

"They weren't so bad, that second group? I mean, still raiders, but once I was out of that cage, in on the joke-I was one of them, not the pet baby Kara was to the original guys. A mini-er raider." The idea of a mini raider was briefly amusing. “Told you I got good at slipping into places and finding cool stuff. That was help enough even when I was older and not a skinny kid anymore. Maara was content enough with what I brought in, anyway.” Musta been-Kara hadn’t really ever talked with her much, but then again she also didn’t get into trouble with the boss lady, either. Every once in a while she had to make an example out of somebody, but Kara had been smart enough not to be on the radar too often.

“I was like, mid teens when they all got offed.” Fact of life, them getting killed. Raiders didn’t have very long life spans. Still, she felt locking their killers in the burning supermarket was justice enough, of a sort-even if she was just mostly escaping everything all together, lighting out on her own.

Best decision she’d ever made.

“Somewhere in there anyway-don’t actually know how old I am, exactly? Mid twenties, I think. All a that was a bit ago, anyhow.”

About these securitrons-holy crap. “Well I’m glad it didn’t use ‘em, jeez.” That was weird. She’s never heard of them blowing anything up. Maybe that was supposed to be an ace in the hole or something...weird.

Her heels are briefly against his rear end when he goes back to her thighs, a laugh-the brief lighter touch than the pressure-ticklish. She twists to pull forward a bit from under him, moves to turn around. Kara's comfortable in her own skin-as casual topless and stark naked as she was clothed.

“I wanna try-” If nothing else, smooches-that seemed like a very good idea, and Kara can never go very long being touched without getting to touch back.

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah hums. "You've always had a talent for being bigger than you actually are. They probably just spent all their time wondering why you came half-size rather than giving you shit for it. Raiders don't judge much. Everyone's fucked in that world."

It's an uncommonly accurate assessment of the culture, actually.

"I'm a few years older than you, if memory serves," the big man adds, as he slides aside to allow Kara back up. His hand trails up along her side and over her hip in a casual caress. Jonah's a terribly touch-oriented person; when they're alone, he barely manages to keep his hands off Kara. There's something reassuring in human contact that's otherwise just permanently empty in him. Like his humanity is in Kara's skin, and he might forget it if he lets go. "Twenty-eight. I haven't particularly cared about it in awhile either. I think only the Vault Dwellers really give a fuck about that kind of nonsense. They're bizarre about the smallest things."

He lays down face-down - has to take a moment to adjust his throbbing erection so that he can actually manage that - then turns his head to raise an eyebrow at Kara from where he's pillowing it on his forearms. "I wish I could give you better advice about this, but I've never practiced it before and I've got no one to compare technique with. Circles seem to work pretty good, though."

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

"What're -you- thinking about, mister cradle robber?" Kara teases when he adjusts, though he was hardly that. She nods at the bit of instruction laces her fingers together and stretches them out in front of her a moment-the movement sending a ripple through her breasts.

She doesn't have as big or strong hands, but they are dexterious-she kisses his shoulder and then tries to copy, trailing down under a shoulder blade before opting for circles there.

"Doc said they do cake though. Cake and funny hats!" That sounds kinda fun. Didn't make up for some of the fucked up vaults, but still. "Think they keep track cause different birthdays can mean different things, new responsibilities? He got his pip boy at ten, he said." Kara had pumped him for all the information he'd humored her enough to provide, always curious.

"Always down for funny hats." She mumbles cheerfully, if distracted. Her deft hands work at some of what were maybe? knots, tongue caught in her teeth.

Hard because he really just...kind of seemed like straight and solid muscle.

"But like, you have to take some test and then that determines what you do for the rest of -forever-. No thanks."

It doesn't take Kara long to lose focus, hands running off his shoulders and to part of his biceps, then back down along either side of his spine, trailing kisses, being a little silly. He's so big and capable of so much violence, yet always gentle with her. Unembarrassed to be as such too.

Nothing she's ever figured on wanting, but happy for it, now.

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah's eyes flick down to the bounce of his bosom, irresistible as it is. His eyes start to darken as his resolution cracks. Rather than saying anything about that, though, he deliberately lays still and tries to be a good practice dummy - it just doesn't really work when she keeps putting her lips to him instead of her hands. Every touch of mouth to skin makes muscles twitch under his skin, and though she does work out some of the knots, the steady arousal she's fanning has the opposite effect. By the time she devolves into simple caresses and kisses rather than attempting the massage, he's wide awake and rather the opposite of relaxed.

"Kara," Jonah rumbles, voice husky. "I appreciate you trying to return the massage. But it's supposed to make me relax, and what you're managing to do is make me want to fuck you until your legs stop working."

His head turns the slightest bit so she can see the crack of one eye, lidded and licentious. His body is quiescent under hers, but it's more the patience of a predator now than blissful lassitude. The muscles of his back are firm against her touch. "Of course, that'd make me relax too."

It's a sleepy kind of tease, but the lazy heat in that hooded eye is more than a promise.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

It actually hadn't been her intention, but soon as he talks with that rumble-it very much was. He's warm beneath her fingertips and she presses another kiss just because.

“Why Jonah, are you accusing me of teasing? Me?” It’s those big ole eyes-she has to know how deceptively innocent they look, particularly when she widens them like that. "Kara the saint?" The minx is anything but, however-her fingers trace over his sides before returning to his shoulders, more kisses. Her silky red hair pools against his skin when she leans forward on her hands, bare breasts barely touching his back and a series of kisses pressed to the back of his neck, his ear, his cheekbone and jaw with a breathy laugh. Her eyes are slightly narrowed with a wicked glitter, that crinkle to the bridge of her nose and a mischievous curve to her mouth now.

“Only trying to help, you know.”

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah's eyes narrow at Kara's continued enticements, her lips soft on his skin, along with her hair, and her breasts - all of it sweeping along in a seductive curtain of sensation. That tears it then - His shoulders roll, and then he does, flipping Kara over onto her back and himself on top of her in a smooth motion. That crimson hair flings out in a curtain under her body, and Jonah surveys that image - Kara, naked and under him on the sheets, limned in fire. God, it's his.

His head ducks, and Jonah's mouth brushes along the column of Kara's throat to nuzzle at the slope of her breast - then his mouth settles on the tip and suckles for a moment, before he carries on downward. The point of his nose brushes along her taut belly before he settles in between her legs, eyes looking up the length of Kara's body with a hooded smirk.

Then Jonah lowers his head and his tongue flicks out over her lower lips, slow and curling, as he takes in Kara's taste. She's faintly musky, but the taste isn't as bad as he'd heard from Beatrix. It encourages him enough that he leans further in, his tongue slithering up the length of her slit before sliding in, gentle and playful, seeking a response her body can't hide.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

He cracks and that makes Kara laugh that pretty, silvery laugh of hers. She can’t help but want to be bad-who could? At the same time-how does he always do that?! It’s almost not fair how much bigger than her he is, but she also kind of likes it, so-

Her fingers brush over his close cropped hair and shoulder, but he doesn’t stay long enough for her to press any searing kisses to him-his lips moving down the column of her throat to her breast-which earns him a surprised noise in her throat and an arch of her back into him.

He’s warm and she just wants to be pressed into him, skin to skin-Where the heck was he goin’? Kara props herself up on her elbows, already a bit of a flush to her face, puzzlement as their eyes connect. Tingles at the base of her spine.
“What’re-!” That got her attention in a hurry, a low, feminine sound in her throat. She knows about oral sex, sort of-but didn’t really-well-not on women!

She both tries to slide back up on the bed and involuntarily shifts her hips, a hand fisted in the sheet and the other one to him, though whether to push him away or not she’s not entirely sure-middle curled in slightly to reach and her breath catching.

 

[Obuzeti]

Jonah laughs, low and wicked, though the sound is muffled due to his face being firmly between her thighs. Instead, he puts the amusement towards tickling and flicking her puffy lips with his tongue. Tracing about the labia seems to be more effective than delving deep, so he laps at the rim of her sex, occasionally darting the tip of his tongue up to flick against her clit. Her heels tap against his back, and Kara's lover responds by hitching her knees up over her shoulders, coincidentally locking himself firmly in place.

There's a joy to this he hadn't realized. The trust involved is scintillating - Jonah has Kara's entire attention, her whole body reacting to everything he does, spread out around him. The smallest movements of his tongue make her tremble or sigh, and there's such a visceral pleasure in giving her this, and in simultaneously having her so far into his control, and in being trusted enough to be given that control. It's a heady mixture for just some tongueplay, but - Kara makes everything special, to him.

So he rewards her as best he can, as his hands creep up and seize that pert ass, moulding and kneading, and his shaft throbs more violently than he can ever recall.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

“Oh-” Kara can’t sit still, can never sit still, a hand winding in her own silky hair and her body tensing up, every flick to her clit sparking electricity on top of the intensity of feeling from his ministrations-if he doesn’t stop he’s going to push her right over the edge, and Kara has no idea how they’d gotten there so quickly-everything about her was always so responsive to anything he does. To him.

Her other hand moves over her own breast as her hips rock to what degree they can in his hands. “Jo-Jonah, gonna make-” She can’t hardly talk for the distraction of his tongue to her sex-that keening, distressed note to her voice. She just wants to touch him so bad, she wants him so bad-she always does. She'd be embarrassed by it if she were more self conscious-which she wasn't, about anything, really.

She’s not any good at self control, not when she wants something.

 

[Obuzeti]

One of Jonah's hands slinks up and laces fingers with hers on her breast, to reassure and offer her the touch she needs, but the rest of him pushes on, as his tongue slides up her folds once more, then flicks out to curl about her clit - then his lips close over it. He doesn't apply any suction, just laves his tongue gently against it in long, soft strokes, egging her own through her climax as best he can. He wants her to come, to be ecstatic in his grip, and that subordinates everything else for the moment, including the raw ache of his cock, bobbing with every broken syllable Kara babbles.

 

[CurtailedAmbrosia]

The delicate, pale column of Kara’s throat was fully exposed as her head pressed back into the mattress, wordless utterances tumbling from her lips as he renders her senseless. She had tried to warn him but he doesn’t stop and now neither can she, doesn’t want him to stop even though she had wanted them both to-can't think. Wordless utterances tumbling from her lips, hips a little wild and slight jolts to her unpalmed breast as the fingers fisted in her hair tighten, her entire body tensing before-a higher pitched noise as she orgasms, oddly empty feeling but the fireworks behind her eyes and in her brain, a tingled rush from inside to out that melted at the base of her spine. Red faced and lost to it.