She whimpers, landing a harder bite on his jaw, shifting her hips against him. She's not really surprised he seems to be ready to have sex a second time, and she's certainly not protesting. Reunion. It's going better than she could have imagined, really. No need to sort things out, just...give in. This time she's rougher with him as they make out, more passionate, nipping harshly, holding on tighter, pinning his wrists over his head.
And once they're done pleasuring one another again, she sags back, rubbing his sides, crawling off of him to kneel between his legs. Her hands glide from his belly to his thighs to his knees and she sits there, letting her breathing slow to normal. She's taking him in more fully now, not just looking at his face but at his body. His complexion is smooth and unbroken by scars, and though his body isn't anywhere near as fit as her own, he's not in a condition where she would consider him in bad shape. Unconsciously, as she looks him over, she's wearing a soft half-smile.
Since the time she had learned Church—the Alpha—was being tortured, she had felt a certain responsibility toward rescuing him, toward setting things to rights as well as she could. She didn't know him, she only knew of him. Whatever memories of Church she had had upon her creation had been messed with by the Director, left vague and indistinct. So her introduction to him, when she found him a hollow shell of an AI, was really the first time they spoke in her memory. Still, there was something about him that made her want to be near him, and the fact that she couldn't rescue him that day had always haunted her.
Their first real acquaintance had taken place, then, when she had found him in Blood Gulch, and she had made the conscious choice not to break his illusion that he was a ghost. But that choice meant there was a distance between them that was impossible to bridge. She had allowed him to make references to her being his girlfriend without protest, but that didn't change the fact that he didn't know what she truly was to him. He couldn't know.
Until Wash came along. Wash did what she couldn't do for Church, and Wash's interference meant their last encounter, joining in the mind of the Meta, happened with Church no longer ignorant. She hates so much about the Ingress and this universe, but the fact that it was here constantly malfunctioning meant she and Church had been given a chance they never would have had otherwise. Becoming acquainted for real, getting to know one another, and perhaps giving her an opening to see him the way he'd always seen her.
And now, he's here again, having no recollection of the way things went the first time. It's true, what Wash said, though he had been taunting her at the time—it really seems sometimes like someone is orchestrating all of this. Is there an intelligence behind the Ingress's malfunctions? She thinks of the figure she saw inside of it when it had been shut down last month. She had been worried it was Church trapped inside, at the time, but...
Her facial expressions have continued to change along with her train of thought, and now her lip is curled wryly, thoughtfully. She'd had enough of manipulation when she realized that the Director was using them the way he was. She doesn't like the idea that her emotions are being toyed with, that she's only falling for Church because of someone orchestrating the proper circumstances for that to happen. After all, because of her programming, she knows the connection she feels toward Church, the responsibility she feels toward keeping him safe, is ingrained in her in a certain way. It's not something she's going to deny in herself, by any means, but she doesn't like the idea that someone is using that fact to manipulate her.
no subject
And once they're done pleasuring one another again, she sags back, rubbing his sides, crawling off of him to kneel between his legs. Her hands glide from his belly to his thighs to his knees and she sits there, letting her breathing slow to normal. She's taking him in more fully now, not just looking at his face but at his body. His complexion is smooth and unbroken by scars, and though his body isn't anywhere near as fit as her own, he's not in a condition where she would consider him in bad shape. Unconsciously, as she looks him over, she's wearing a soft half-smile.
Since the time she had learned Church—the Alpha—was being tortured, she had felt a certain responsibility toward rescuing him, toward setting things to rights as well as she could. She didn't know him, she only knew of him. Whatever memories of Church she had had upon her creation had been messed with by the Director, left vague and indistinct. So her introduction to him, when she found him a hollow shell of an AI, was really the first time they spoke in her memory. Still, there was something about him that made her want to be near him, and the fact that she couldn't rescue him that day had always haunted her.
Their first real acquaintance had taken place, then, when she had found him in Blood Gulch, and she had made the conscious choice not to break his illusion that he was a ghost. But that choice meant there was a distance between them that was impossible to bridge. She had allowed him to make references to her being his girlfriend without protest, but that didn't change the fact that he didn't know what she truly was to him. He couldn't know.
Until Wash came along. Wash did what she couldn't do for Church, and Wash's interference meant their last encounter, joining in the mind of the Meta, happened with Church no longer ignorant. She hates so much about the Ingress and this universe, but the fact that it was here constantly malfunctioning meant she and Church had been given a chance they never would have had otherwise. Becoming acquainted for real, getting to know one another, and perhaps giving her an opening to see him the way he'd always seen her.
And now, he's here again, having no recollection of the way things went the first time. It's true, what Wash said, though he had been taunting her at the time—it really seems sometimes like someone is orchestrating all of this. Is there an intelligence behind the Ingress's malfunctions? She thinks of the figure she saw inside of it when it had been shut down last month. She had been worried it was Church trapped inside, at the time, but...
Her facial expressions have continued to change along with her train of thought, and now her lip is curled wryly, thoughtfully. She'd had enough of manipulation when she realized that the Director was using them the way he was. She doesn't like the idea that her emotions are being toyed with, that she's only falling for Church because of someone orchestrating the proper circumstances for that to happen. After all, because of her programming, she knows the connection she feels toward Church, the responsibility she feels toward keeping him safe, is ingrained in her in a certain way. It's not something she's going to deny in herself, by any means, but she doesn't like the idea that someone is using that fact to manipulate her.