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Getting Lucky

By Willa Shakespeare
Page 1 of 2

"Right. In here, Avon." Tarrant held open the sagging door of the dilapidated hut he'd found. "We're in luck, seems someone used this as a hunting shack. There are still some supplies."

Avon entered warily. There had been enough close calls in the last few days to make him nervous. It didn't help his peace of mind that Tarrant wouldn't permit him to carry a weapon. Not that I can blame you for distrusting me after recent events on Gauda Prime. But it's more than inconvenient and personally galling to be dependent on you for protection, it's also dangerous. For us both. You can't watch my back and your own all the time. I know, I went through that with Blake. Thinking about Blake made Avon set his teeth in anger and his voice was sharper than he intended when he tried once more to make Tarrant see reason. "Tarrant, you should rest. You never did get proper medical treatment. Let me take the watch."

Tarrant grinned, not at all moved by Avon's transparent ploy. "Oh, no, Avon. You did a marvelous job of strapping up my ribs. It doesn't bother me a bit." Tarrant set down the assorted armament he and Avon had liberated from Federation guards. The guards had also provided the black uniforms he and Avon now wore. He was tired, but not to the point of letting Avon see it. I have to be strong for both of us. He's better, but he's not ready to take command again. If I ever let him. I suppose I'll have to eventually, Avon isn't going to take orders much longer. Not that he's all that great a leader, but he's all I've got. I've lost too much already. "You just see about finding us something to eat."

Sourly, Avon obeyed, sorting through the dusty tins and foil-sealed packs, trying to decipher the faded labels. "This has gone on long enough, Tarrant." he said softly. "Either you give me a weapon or let me go my own way. You can't keep both of us alive for long, not with Federation forces combing the woods for us. You need another gun hand, Tarrant, not a liability."

"I'll think about it. I might need you, Avon, but you'll have to earn my trust. You weren't acting too stable in that cell, as I recall." In fact, I thought you had gone completely mad. I'm still not sure who you'd aim a gun at, if you had one- Federation guards? Me? Or yourself? I'm not taking any chances.

"Servalan thought I was insane. It put her off her guard. Otherwise we would never have escaped. I do assure you that I am perfectly rational, although my patience is at an end. I will not abide this unequal state of affairs any longer."

"Oh, should I be worried?" Tarrant settled down on a pile of firewood. He smiled at Avon. "Really, what can you do about it?"

"You'd be surprised," Avon growled. "Don't think I couldn't have taken you any time in the last two days. I know you, Tarrant, you couldn't use a gun on an unarmed man, not even when it's me."

"Perhaps, but let's not put it to the test, shall we?" Tarrant sat back, leaning against the wall with his long legs stretched out before him. Because you're right, but not for the reason you think. You're an infuriating little selfish, snide, pain in the ass and I've wanted to belt you one more times than I can count, but kill you? Never. "Oh, I know you're still dangerous, Avon, even with your teeth pulled. I think that's what I admire most about you, your lethal nature."

Avon looked up. "You like ordering me about, don't you, Tarrant? Being the big man? Try it without a gun in your hand, why don't you?"

"Don't tempt me. I just might do that, Avon." Tarrant smiled wider. Go on, Avon, get your back up. You've been too quiet lately, brooding about that idiot Blake.

The more he taunted Tarrant, the more the pilot seemed to enjoy it. Time for a change of tactics. If I can only make him lose his temper... "If you insist on being the leader, then why haven't you tried to rescue the others?"

"We don't know where they are, or even if they're still alive." Tarrant frowned. "I'm not going to risk the two of us without a plan."

"I thought you were the one who was so adamant about 'crew loyalty' and not abandoning your friends." Avon smirked, seeing the blow hit home.

Tarrant sat up, half rising to go after Avon. Then he shook his head. "I was right, Avon, you are still dangerous," he said ruefully.

The way Tarrant kept smiling at him irritated Avon. He looked down at the tin he held. It contained some sort of fruit, judging by the picture. It had a solid, blunt instrument feel in his hand. Abruptly, he threw the can at Tarrant, following the missile with a dive for Tarrant's ribs.

The pilot reflexively caught the can, then dropped it as the other man slammed into him. Avon had finally succeeded in firing Tarrant up. Although not quite as he had intended. After a moment's surprise, Tarrant began to enjoy the wrestling match, while taking care to keep the tussle away from the weapons stacked against the wall. He flipped Avon onto his back and then lay on him, heavily, grabbing the other man's wrists to pin them above Avon's head. Not up to par yet, are you? Missed at least one clear shot at my crotch- maybe you have a few scruples left. Or maybe you don't really want to hurt me, any more than I want to hurt you. A warm curl of pleasure in his abdomen came to life at the thought that perhaps Avon, in his own strange way, did value Tarrant.

Avon was ruffled and cursing, his eyes glittering in his baffled fury. Tarrant laughed, a trifle breathlessly, then murmured, "You're beautiful when you're angry, Avon." He gave in to a sudden impulse to kiss Avon. I want you. Right now that's all that matters. I may regret this later- but I don't care. I'm tired of being careful and cool around you, Avon. See me as a man, not just a pilot, a useful crew member, or any of those other neatly labeled slots you file people away in. I'll make you live for once without thinking about the consequences.

He took his time with the kiss, giving the task his full attention and skill. By the time he drew back to allow Avon to breathe, the other man's anger was tempered by a nervous uncertainty bordering on fear. All of which Tarrant read in Avon's eyes.

"Get off me, Tarrant!" Avon threatened through clenched teeth, "or so help me, I'll..."

"You'll what?" Tarrant interrupted. He shook his head, sending tousled curls flying. "You really aren't in a position to make threats." He licked his lips and stared down at Avon. Yes, this feels right.

"This isn't funny, Tarrant." I will not panic. He is simply trying to intimidate me. That is all there is to this.

"I'm not laughing." The pilot moved, lying even closer upon his prisoner.

Tarrant's fair skin was flushed, making him look like a small boy fresh from his bath, curls fluffed and eyes bright. But what Avon felt pressing more and more insistently against his lower body dispelled the little boy illusion.

Damn, he means it. Avon squirmed, trying to throw off the taller man, to no effect. Panting, he said, "I thought you were a ladies' man, Tarrant. Remember Zeeona?"

"Yes. I liked Zeeona," Tarrant admitted. "I might even have loved her. But she isn't here, and you are. It's been a long time, Avon. Longer for you than for me, I'll wager. You know what they say, beggars can't be choosers."

Avon turned his head aside, trying to evade Tarrant's kisses. "Why, Tarrant? It hasn't been that long, surely."

"You intrigue me, Avon. I've always enjoyed the spice of danger in my life, and in my loving. Dayna, now, she was exciting, for a while, until we got too friendly and easy with one another." And both of us daydreaming about you and you blind to us both. Dayna wanted to practice her knot-tying skills on you. Not a bad idea- if hog-tying you will get your attention, fine. He shifted, putting both of Avon's hands together, gripped by one of his, so he could work his belt loose with his free hand. He tied the belt tightly around Avon's wrists as he continued to talk, "Zeeona, well, she was a lovely girl, but without the threat of her father looming over us, I might have gotten bored with her, eventually." He let go of Avon's tied hands and studied him for a few seconds before running his hands slowly down Avon's sides. "Then there was Servalan. That's one woman who would never bore me. On the other hand, I like to have some certainty of waking up in the morning. Now you won't kill me, will you, Avon?"

"Don't count on it." Avon gasped as Tarrant began nuzzling down Avon's throat. As it became obvious that Tarrant was intent on seduction rather than rape, Avon eased his struggles. A firm refusal would possibly be respected. On the other hand... The warm, wet swipe of a tongue brought back memories of happier days, before frauds, revolutions, and betrayals. When sex was an uncomplicated pleasure.

"Don't be that way, Avon. Just think, we might both be dead tomorrow. We owe it to ourselves to live a little tonight." Tarrant stroked along the length of the tense body beneath his, noting that Avon's movements had changed. Instead of flinching from Tarrant's caresses, he was leaning in to them. Ah, you're not afraid any more. Good.

"God, Tarrant, that's the oldest line in the book." Avon tried to sound disgusted and disapproving, but failed miserably as Tarrant petted him intimately and his breath caught in a gasp of surprised delight.

"Still true, though." Tarrant stilled his hands and sat up, pulling Avon with him. "I want you, Avon. But I'm not going to rape you."

"Oh?" Avon raised his eyebrows, then stared at his bound wrists.

"In a minute, Avon," Tarrant promised, then drew the other man in close, reveling in the feel of Avon's warm black leather against his own. And skin on skin will be better still. "Admit it, you're beginning to like this." Tarrant's wandering hands followed the line of Avon's jumpsuit closure down to the crotch and paused there to assess the warm, pulsing life beneath the cloth.

Avon made a half-hearted attempt to move away from the stimulation, then sighed and relaxed. "Oh, all right. Just don't expect me to respect you in the morning."

Tarrant undid the belt binding Avon's hands. He grinned. "Why should tomorrow morning be any different from any other?"

"Oh, do shut up, Tarrant." Avon reached up, grabbing a handful of curly hair to draw Tarrant down to meet Avon's hungry mouth. "As you said, it's been a long time. More action, less talk."

Tarrant opened his mouth against the assault and closed his eyes for an instant, enjoying Avon's taste while attempting to capture Avon's tongue with his own. Not as sharp as I'd imagined it, but just as slippery. He reveled in the harsh strength of the arms that locked around him and the waves of fierce desire that emanated from the other man. Once he made up his mind to do something, Avon obviously didn't believe in half measures. Always knew you had nice hands. Tarrant moaned into Avon's mouth, then pulled away and caught Avon's hands, immobilizing them.

"What now?" Annoyed by the interruption, Avon focused one of his best killing glares at the pilot.

"You're going too fast. I don't want to just jerk off." Tarrant instantly regretted his honesty as Avon narrowed his eyes suspiciously and the temperature of the room dropped twenty degrees.


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