Author's note: Written for an older word at 15minuteficlets over at Live Journal. So many of the words there give me inspiration for these two, and I love writing about them, so, here's another Tattoo/Typhoid story. Please review, hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer: I do not own, please do not sue.
There was something in her taste that was intoxicating. It was deadly, but what made it any different than any other drug? She was sweet poison, a deadly high. He wanted it for himself, for always. She was never his though. She was that drug he was addicted to, but he could never get
His body shuddered when he saw her, sometimes growing cold, sometimes becoming feverish. He was in withdrawal, and she'd put him in that state with just one, stolen kiss.
Her delicate, dangerous body, her flawless, fatal skin, her pouting, poisonous lips, her enticing, ensnaring gaze. Everything about her was tempting Tattoo as he stood silently beside her, his face impassive, gaze distant and detached, ever the stoic it would appear.
They watched Kirigi as he walked towards the ranch, Tattoo's hawk back in place, safe and sound on Daddy's shoulder once more. They walked with him, Stone leading the way now, Typhoid and Tattoo not far behind, Kirigi going around the back.
And he couldn't keep his eyes from flickering to her, the grim demeanor slipping into lust and desperation for mere seconds when he looked at her, but he was soon back in control and grave as ever. He felt his expression turn into something that walked the fine line of mischievous and sadistic as the lone person in the house now shot Stone.
Typhoid Mary glanced at Tattoo, her gaze almost tangible, and he turned his head, his now impish and excited expression meeting her more subdued but equally entertained gaze. The look in their eyes melted though, and Tattoo moved closer instinctively, seeing an opening, a chance to get his drug once more.
And then they were walking into the house, and his chance was gone.