Cinema Verite
And people ask me why I have a low opinion of women.
Zenith twirls as she steps into the hotel suite before Shaw, a twirl that starts well and then drunkenly wobbles. Her hair is falling out of the upswept style slightly, and her plain black skirt and comfortable leather jacket over tank are hardly dressed up, but her breath is certainly celebratory enough. "Second!" she declares to the room, arms spread wide.
"Second," Shaw agrees, crowing as he steps in after Zenith with a broad smile on his face. "Ah, Zoe," he says. "I'm glad you convinced me to get away for this - really," he says, "it was quite a little vacation, and you were /beautiful/."
Zenith laughs joyously, at finishes off a last twirl to plant a quick kiss on Shaw's lips. "I was," she agrees. "Everything was just--on. Everything. One of those perfect moments where you and your partner are just in the zone--like in some other world." She flops backward onto the bed, a grand gesture that fades as she curls up a little. "Oof. Tired, though."
"Tired?" Shaw says, starting to undo his tie as he smiles into Zenith's kiss. "I hope not too tired, my dear," he says - khaki slacks, brown jacket, gold tie, white shirt. "I had some plans tonight." The tie is dropped loosely off onto the floor.
Zenith shifts so one of her arms is pillowed under her head. She looks at Shaw for a moment and then smiles. "Yeah, all right. You came to one of my competitions finally--and in style." She pushes herself to a sitting position and her smile turns more promising. "I'm yours. What's this plan?"
"It's a little..." Shaw looks for a word as he shrugs out his coat, tossing it on the back of a hotel chair. "Mmm. Inappropriate." A beat, a smile, and he goes to the bar, taking two glasses. A bottle of champagne is uncorked and both are filled. "Do you mind?"
Zenith giggles. "I'd be kind of disappointed if it was appropriate, to be honest." She scoots to the edge of the bed and shrugs off her jacket, tossing it on a handy bit of floor. She comes over to the bar, walk a little over-precise. "Good, clean, family fun need not apply." She grins.
"...it's just that I take these long business trips," Shaw says with - to his credit - a look of mild embarrassment. "And I'm away, and I don't see you, and you know, my mind turns to you, Zoe..." As she approaches, he turns, reaching out to take her chin, tilt it up, and steal a kiss.
Zenith is definitely down with the kissing idea. She presses herself against him. "I'm glad. I think about you too, but I always wonder--" Something more is on the tip of her tongue, but she goes with the euphoria of the night, and rejoins the kiss instead.
Kissing works for Shaw, and - with a glass of champagne in one hand, he wraps the other around Zenith's waist to draw her close for more of that activity. Only after a pause does he pull away, taking up a second glass to press into her hands while he sips from his own. "I was thinking I'd like something to remember you by."
Zenith snorts. "Where am I going?" she asks him, poking him and then stepping back to accept the glass. She sips and sticks out her tongue at him.
Shaw grins. "Not /you/," he says. "I mean for /me/ to remember you by, when I'm on a trip." A pause. "You know, something to think of you with..." Her step back is his step forward, like a dance, and extended tongue provokes another brief kiss.
"Oh!" Drunk makes leaps of logic hard. "For your trips, like you were saying. I got it." She giggles and then strikes a pose, glass extended to toast an invisible camera.
"/Exactly/," Shaw says. "Smart girl, Zoe..." His hand reaches out, makes a silhouette of that pose in light touches. "So I was thinking..."
Zenith lets herself be posed, though she uses her free hand to futz with her hair several times before she's happy. Then she breaks the pose to look at Shaw. "Of?" she asks. "I have some publicity shots at home, if you want them. Got some new ones recently."
"Publicity shots are so passe." Another kiss, as Shaw leans forward, and then he turns away from Zenith to go to the wardrobe, delving into his suitcase there. The glass of champagne is set on the bedstand, and as he turns back he is holding a camera, loosely in his hands. "I thought something more /interesting/, Zoe."
Zenith takes a last sip from her own glass, sets it carefully on the nightstand and sits down on the bed, bouncing slightly. Some restling with pins and her dark hair is free to cascade down around her shoulders. She flips it into order and leans forward, grinning at Shaw. "Interesting?" She leans forward, completing the pose.
Camera is raised to Shaw's eye, and there is a click. "Why," he murmurs. "That's almost tame, Zoe - you know me." A pause. "I have something a little bit wild in my heart - and now it's set on something wild in you, too."
Zenith grins and leans back, pulling at her skirt to give it an artless fall that happens to expose tantalizingly high up her leg. She props herself on one arm and shakes her hair free. "I'm not going to pout," she warns him teasingly. "That's so talentless model."
More clicks, Shaw's finger moving, and he smiles. "I'd rather you smiled," he tells Zenith, moving to a better place in the room with lazy abandon. He takes a bag with him, dropping it on an end table. "I like your smile."
That brings it out, quick, sensual, and more natural than any pose. "Nobody's going to see these, right?" she says, and floats up a couple inches above the bed. She lies as if on an invisible surface, cheek resting on her arm, and hair free to fall down and brush the bed.
"Of course not," Shaw says says with a quiet breath, and the camera clicks again in rapid fire succession. "You are," he informs Zenith, "beautiful."
The comment catches Zenith in a quiet moment, and her face goes thoughtful. "Thank you," is all she says, softly. She changes the gravity so that no longer is she lying on a surface, she's truly floating, with hair and skirt slowly fanning out. "You too," she offers.
"Still," Shaw offers with an amused smile, "tame. Like a declawed tigress, my dear, entirely content in her cage. Isn't there some part that yearns to be free?"
Zenith snorts into laughter, cutting gravity back to normal so she falls down to bounce slightly on the bed. She goes up on her elbows and points an accusatory finger at Shaw. "I'm trying to look graceful, and /you/ just want to see my tits." She giggles and shrugs down her bra and tank strap together over her shoulder.
"Zoe," Shaw says. "How on earth are you showing me your tits and being graceful mutually exclusive?"
Zenith considers that point with the deep concentration of the slightly drunk. "Nothing cheap," she tells him sternly. "No pornstar poses. Nude. /Art/." She shrugs out of her tank and unhooks her bra, shrugging her hair down to partially brush and partially obscure her chest.
"But Zoe," Shaw wheedles with good humor. "Art is something you look at in galleries, not when you're far from home." He puts the camera down and begins to rummage in the bag.
Zenith eyes him and then laughs huskily. "Well, stop standing there, and help me feel my 'motivation' then, hm?" She laughs, and crawls on hands and knees to the edge of the bed to try to see into the bag.
Speaking of cheap - the video camera that emerges is very expensive, a little mini-DV affair with a zoom lens. Shaw smiles, and he starts to take careful steps towards Zenith, bending down to claim a kiss. "As you command," he says.
Zenith frowns, mood slipping a little. "Swear to God that never sees the internet," she says. "Promise me?" She returns the kiss in a perfunctory way, waiting for him to promise.
"I break promises too often," Shaw says, kissing again in an effort to provoke a more than perfunctory response. "Don't trust my promises - but this," he says. "This I swear. This is just between you and me, Zoe."
Zenith expression softens again. "All right," she says, emphasizing her kiss by sliding her hand against the back of his neck. She laughs into it. "This going to be awkward if that doesn't have a tripod."
"Haven't you ever heard of cinema verite?" Shaw asks in a tone of innocence, and then he, too, dissolves into laughter.
"You're the one who had to worry about poor video quality later," Zenith says, and pulls at Shaw's shirt, the camera ignored to record what it will. His problem, not hers--she's concentrating on other things.
OOC: Rated R for Shaw barely deserving to be called a human being. It isn't so much that it's dirty, it's just that he's a bad guy.
Zenith twirls as she steps into the hotel suite before Shaw, a twirl that starts well and then drunkenly wobbles. Her hair is falling out of the upswept style slightly, and her plain black skirt and comfortable leather jacket over tank are hardly dressed up, but her breath is certainly celebratory enough. "Second!" she declares to the room, arms spread wide.
"Second," Shaw agrees, crowing as he steps in after Zenith with a broad smile on his face. "Ah, Zoe," he says. "I'm glad you convinced me to get away for this - really," he says, "it was quite a little vacation, and you were /beautiful/."
Zenith laughs joyously, at finishes off a last twirl to plant a quick kiss on Shaw's lips. "I was," she agrees. "Everything was just--on. Everything. One of those perfect moments where you and your partner are just in the zone--like in some other world." She flops backward onto the bed, a grand gesture that fades as she curls up a little. "Oof. Tired, though."
"Tired?" Shaw says, starting to undo his tie as he smiles into Zenith's kiss. "I hope not too tired, my dear," he says - khaki slacks, brown jacket, gold tie, white shirt. "I had some plans tonight." The tie is dropped loosely off onto the floor.
Zenith shifts so one of her arms is pillowed under her head. She looks at Shaw for a moment and then smiles. "Yeah, all right. You came to one of my competitions finally--and in style." She pushes herself to a sitting position and her smile turns more promising. "I'm yours. What's this plan?"
"It's a little..." Shaw looks for a word as he shrugs out his coat, tossing it on the back of a hotel chair. "Mmm. Inappropriate." A beat, a smile, and he goes to the bar, taking two glasses. A bottle of champagne is uncorked and both are filled. "Do you mind?"
Zenith giggles. "I'd be kind of disappointed if it was appropriate, to be honest." She scoots to the edge of the bed and shrugs off her jacket, tossing it on a handy bit of floor. She comes over to the bar, walk a little over-precise. "Good, clean, family fun need not apply." She grins.
"...it's just that I take these long business trips," Shaw says with - to his credit - a look of mild embarrassment. "And I'm away, and I don't see you, and you know, my mind turns to you, Zoe..." As she approaches, he turns, reaching out to take her chin, tilt it up, and steal a kiss.
Zenith is definitely down with the kissing idea. She presses herself against him. "I'm glad. I think about you too, but I always wonder--" Something more is on the tip of her tongue, but she goes with the euphoria of the night, and rejoins the kiss instead.
Kissing works for Shaw, and - with a glass of champagne in one hand, he wraps the other around Zenith's waist to draw her close for more of that activity. Only after a pause does he pull away, taking up a second glass to press into her hands while he sips from his own. "I was thinking I'd like something to remember you by."
Zenith snorts. "Where am I going?" she asks him, poking him and then stepping back to accept the glass. She sips and sticks out her tongue at him.
Shaw grins. "Not /you/," he says. "I mean for /me/ to remember you by, when I'm on a trip." A pause. "You know, something to think of you with..." Her step back is his step forward, like a dance, and extended tongue provokes another brief kiss.
"Oh!" Drunk makes leaps of logic hard. "For your trips, like you were saying. I got it." She giggles and then strikes a pose, glass extended to toast an invisible camera.
"/Exactly/," Shaw says. "Smart girl, Zoe..." His hand reaches out, makes a silhouette of that pose in light touches. "So I was thinking..."
Zenith lets herself be posed, though she uses her free hand to futz with her hair several times before she's happy. Then she breaks the pose to look at Shaw. "Of?" she asks. "I have some publicity shots at home, if you want them. Got some new ones recently."
"Publicity shots are so passe." Another kiss, as Shaw leans forward, and then he turns away from Zenith to go to the wardrobe, delving into his suitcase there. The glass of champagne is set on the bedstand, and as he turns back he is holding a camera, loosely in his hands. "I thought something more /interesting/, Zoe."
Zenith takes a last sip from her own glass, sets it carefully on the nightstand and sits down on the bed, bouncing slightly. Some restling with pins and her dark hair is free to cascade down around her shoulders. She flips it into order and leans forward, grinning at Shaw. "Interesting?" She leans forward, completing the pose.
Camera is raised to Shaw's eye, and there is a click. "Why," he murmurs. "That's almost tame, Zoe - you know me." A pause. "I have something a little bit wild in my heart - and now it's set on something wild in you, too."
Zenith grins and leans back, pulling at her skirt to give it an artless fall that happens to expose tantalizingly high up her leg. She props herself on one arm and shakes her hair free. "I'm not going to pout," she warns him teasingly. "That's so talentless model."
More clicks, Shaw's finger moving, and he smiles. "I'd rather you smiled," he tells Zenith, moving to a better place in the room with lazy abandon. He takes a bag with him, dropping it on an end table. "I like your smile."
That brings it out, quick, sensual, and more natural than any pose. "Nobody's going to see these, right?" she says, and floats up a couple inches above the bed. She lies as if on an invisible surface, cheek resting on her arm, and hair free to fall down and brush the bed.
"Of course not," Shaw says says with a quiet breath, and the camera clicks again in rapid fire succession. "You are," he informs Zenith, "beautiful."
The comment catches Zenith in a quiet moment, and her face goes thoughtful. "Thank you," is all she says, softly. She changes the gravity so that no longer is she lying on a surface, she's truly floating, with hair and skirt slowly fanning out. "You too," she offers.
"Still," Shaw offers with an amused smile, "tame. Like a declawed tigress, my dear, entirely content in her cage. Isn't there some part that yearns to be free?"
Zenith snorts into laughter, cutting gravity back to normal so she falls down to bounce slightly on the bed. She goes up on her elbows and points an accusatory finger at Shaw. "I'm trying to look graceful, and /you/ just want to see my tits." She giggles and shrugs down her bra and tank strap together over her shoulder.
"Zoe," Shaw says. "How on earth are you showing me your tits and being graceful mutually exclusive?"
Zenith considers that point with the deep concentration of the slightly drunk. "Nothing cheap," she tells him sternly. "No pornstar poses. Nude. /Art/." She shrugs out of her tank and unhooks her bra, shrugging her hair down to partially brush and partially obscure her chest.
"But Zoe," Shaw wheedles with good humor. "Art is something you look at in galleries, not when you're far from home." He puts the camera down and begins to rummage in the bag.
Zenith eyes him and then laughs huskily. "Well, stop standing there, and help me feel my 'motivation' then, hm?" She laughs, and crawls on hands and knees to the edge of the bed to try to see into the bag.
Speaking of cheap - the video camera that emerges is very expensive, a little mini-DV affair with a zoom lens. Shaw smiles, and he starts to take careful steps towards Zenith, bending down to claim a kiss. "As you command," he says.
Zenith frowns, mood slipping a little. "Swear to God that never sees the internet," she says. "Promise me?" She returns the kiss in a perfunctory way, waiting for him to promise.
"I break promises too often," Shaw says, kissing again in an effort to provoke a more than perfunctory response. "Don't trust my promises - but this," he says. "This I swear. This is just between you and me, Zoe."
Zenith expression softens again. "All right," she says, emphasizing her kiss by sliding her hand against the back of his neck. She laughs into it. "This going to be awkward if that doesn't have a tripod."
"Haven't you ever heard of cinema verite?" Shaw asks in a tone of innocence, and then he, too, dissolves into laughter.
"You're the one who had to worry about poor video quality later," Zenith says, and pulls at Shaw's shirt, the camera ignored to record what it will. His problem, not hers--she's concentrating on other things.
OOC: Rated R for Shaw barely deserving to be called a human being. It isn't so much that it's dirty, it's just that he's a bad guy.