Language Sex Violence Other (DNA Remix)
Title: Language Sex Violence Other (DNA Remix)
Fandom: Farscape
Pairing(s): Aeryn/Jool
Word Count: 200
Rating: PG-13
Summary: She's not as strong as she thinks.
Notes: A remix of Learning Experiences by astrogirl2. Written for remixthedrabble.
Jool is used to blood. DNA comparisons, blood analysis, cell-structure comparisons; she's not one of those girls, never has been.
A vial of blood in a lab, careful and controlled, is nothing like seeing it spilled in combat, imagining -
She's not as strong as she thinks.
(And the problem, really, isn't that everything is different. The problem is that it's the same, common elements rearranged until they don't resemble what they should, mixed up and turned around into something horrible and bizarre. She had a looking glass, once, a trick one; in it, her reflection was stretched and distorted, familiar enough to unsettle, strange enough to grant no comfort. This is like that.)
When she goes to Aeryn for help, she wasn't expecting the gun to feel so much like a simple tool, the chemistry of the chakan oil, the precision of her aim. Aeryn's words of instruction are not comfort, but they are soothing, and her hands, holding Jool's hips steady - sliding down over rough fabric, brushing her hair aside - probably don't mean what she thinks.
She turns, anyway, and substitutes one kind of bravery for another. If she can't be strong, she might as well be bold.
Fandom: Farscape
Pairing(s): Aeryn/Jool
Word Count: 200
Rating: PG-13
Summary: She's not as strong as she thinks.
Notes: A remix of Learning Experiences by astrogirl2. Written for remixthedrabble.
Jool is used to blood. DNA comparisons, blood analysis, cell-structure comparisons; she's not one of those girls, never has been.
A vial of blood in a lab, careful and controlled, is nothing like seeing it spilled in combat, imagining -
She's not as strong as she thinks.
(And the problem, really, isn't that everything is different. The problem is that it's the same, common elements rearranged until they don't resemble what they should, mixed up and turned around into something horrible and bizarre. She had a looking glass, once, a trick one; in it, her reflection was stretched and distorted, familiar enough to unsettle, strange enough to grant no comfort. This is like that.)
When she goes to Aeryn for help, she wasn't expecting the gun to feel so much like a simple tool, the chemistry of the chakan oil, the precision of her aim. Aeryn's words of instruction are not comfort, but they are soothing, and her hands, holding Jool's hips steady - sliding down over rough fabric, brushing her hair aside - probably don't mean what she thinks.
She turns, anyway, and substitutes one kind of bravery for another. If she can't be strong, she might as well be bold.