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wisdomeagleTitle: "Promise Me a Royal Flush"
Fandom: Farscape/Stargate: SG-1 RPF
Pairing: Claudia Black/Ben Browder
Disclaimer: Any resemblance to real celebrities, living or... also living... is entirely coincidental.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers/Timeline: Beginningish of S9 SG-1
Notes: Stocking stuffer for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sugargroupie in Yuletide 2007. Originally posted here.
Summary: It will be different this time, Claudia, it will. I promised.
Wordcount: 1036
Promise Me a Royal Flush
Ben promised himself it would be different this time. The promise came at a price -- there were poker games that he avoided, because he knew that Claudia would be there, raising her eyebrow when Michael tried to bluff, feet up on the legs of whoever was sitting across from her, calling the names of Aussie games that no one had ever heard of, insisting that in Oz, brunettes were always wild.
So, different this time. He greeted her with one bear hug, for old time's sake, and hands high on her back, then pulled away to savor her grin just once more, wide and brilliant and edible. Only, it was going to be different this time. This time, there would be no poker and no partying and no late nights at the studio. There would be no Claudia-cot in Ben's trailer, made up in fancy silk sheets because Claud's the princess, and Claud's the star, and only the best for Claudia Black. None of that.
"You're a star, Ben."
"A valid career choice."
"But do you have to be the princess all the time? The cast is starting to talk. You don't want to know what Chris and Michael do to your coffee, and Amanda's convinced you have personal issues with her."
"Um."
"You don't, do you?"
"Amanda? She's a sweetheart."
"So I'd be correct if I guessed it was about me?"
"Claudia --"
"Because if this is about the fans and Farscape --"
"You saw the tabs, too, Claudia, and the zines and the fansites and the signs at the cons."
"Yes, and I ignored them, because I'm an adult and don't let mad television fanatics and their fancies dictate my personal life."
"All right, fair enough, but Claudia --"
"You'll come to the game tonight?"
"Yeah, sure."
It'll be different this time, though. No double-teaming, no cards up the leg of Claudia's pants (they slid so easily into his lap, just two fingers a few inches under her cuff and he was one card shy of a royal flush), no drinking, because it was harder when he was smashed. Claudia held her liquor fine, just got meaner and better at bluffing, but Ben got sloppy and it seemed less scary and terrible to put an arm around her shoulder. He got less married when he got drunk, less Ben Browder and more John Crichton, more that guy, who'd better get lucky when he got the chance because his life was a perpetual exercise in coming just short of utter failure.
Cameron's not like that, really, but Ben can still see that other guy in the bottom of his beer bottle. Shuffling and awkward and devoted like a madman to earning Claudia's killer smile. So, different this time. He greets her and their castmates with the same curt nod, no squeezing of love handles, no winking or secret handshakes. Chris Judge might be a secret handshake kind of guy, but with secrets there's intimacy and with intimacy there's danger and this situation is dangerous enough, because Claudia's in street clothes that flatter her figure more than the ridiculous costumes they've got her wearing, jean jacket that cuddles her breasts, flared pants that leave the exact curve of Claudia's hips to Ben's overactive imagination. Deep breath, because this time will be different. Deep breath, and he looks at her face, because he's not that guy, not the guy who talks to a woman's breasts, but this is worse, because Claudia's no different, just more beautiful than ever as she relaxes into a folding chair.
Sweet smile that becomes a smirk as she doesn't bother to avoid staring at Ben's crotch, eyebrow cocked like she likes what she sees. Like she's ready to jump right back into the best-friends cot-in-his-trailer treated-like-a-queen adventure, but it doesn't work in Vancouver. It's an Oz thing, down under, world upside down, the ride of a lifetime and nobody knew. Now he's a big time star, it's always raining outside and Claudia's not this nowhere actor who's suddenly been transformed by the camera lights into Queenie McStar. She's got her hair up in pigtails and she's smiling at him.
"No way," he says. "Absolutely no way, not in hell, I'm getting out of here if you don't stop --"
"What?"
"I'm married, Claudia."
That doesn't erase the smirk. He doesn't like that. Doesn't like the freefall feeling that Claudia is directing this adventure, doesn't like the fact that this attempt at getting to know the cast has been transformed into just him and Claudia, like so many nights on Farscape when they'd been filming all day and Gigi and Anthony and everyone else had gone home at noon and they were too tired to find a hotel so they just crashed on their respective cots, listening to each other snore.
Claudia just smiles.
"There's no poker game, is there?"
"I bluffed?" She shrugs. The pigtails make her innocent. The pigtails belong on a woman who'd never try to give a married man a footjob.
"This has nothing to do with how the cast feels about me?"
"They adore you, Ben. Everyone adores you. You? Equal adorable."
"So this -- is. This isn't happening, Claudia. This is not happening this time. It's gonna be different, and it starts now."
"Yeah? You think you can stop it?"
"Yeah."
"Because you're stronger now? Found yourself some self-control? Or does the fanclub take care of all your dick-stroking needs?"
"You mean ego."
"In you, they're the same."
"Please, Claudia, we can do this -- we can do this differently. We can be friends."
Her smile is so bright it's like sunrise. "I'd like to be friends."
"We can't -- we can't do anything else."
"I'm going to pretend I believe you."
"Yeah?"
She gives him a hug that chokes his breath out, breasts smushed into his chest and hip pressed comfortably into his thigh. It's so familiar he can't block out the sense memory of a kiss, and he presses his lips to her head before he can do something more dangerous. Because it's different this time. He promised.
Fandom: Farscape/Stargate: SG-1 RPF
Pairing: Claudia Black/Ben Browder
Disclaimer: Any resemblance to real celebrities, living or... also living... is entirely coincidental.
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers/Timeline: Beginningish of S9 SG-1
Notes: Stocking stuffer for
sugargroupie in Yuletide 2007. Originally posted here.Summary: It will be different this time, Claudia, it will. I promised.
Wordcount: 1036
Promise Me a Royal Flush
Ben promised himself it would be different this time. The promise came at a price -- there were poker games that he avoided, because he knew that Claudia would be there, raising her eyebrow when Michael tried to bluff, feet up on the legs of whoever was sitting across from her, calling the names of Aussie games that no one had ever heard of, insisting that in Oz, brunettes were always wild.
So, different this time. He greeted her with one bear hug, for old time's sake, and hands high on her back, then pulled away to savor her grin just once more, wide and brilliant and edible. Only, it was going to be different this time. This time, there would be no poker and no partying and no late nights at the studio. There would be no Claudia-cot in Ben's trailer, made up in fancy silk sheets because Claud's the princess, and Claud's the star, and only the best for Claudia Black. None of that.
"You're a star, Ben."
"A valid career choice."
"But do you have to be the princess all the time? The cast is starting to talk. You don't want to know what Chris and Michael do to your coffee, and Amanda's convinced you have personal issues with her."
"Um."
"You don't, do you?"
"Amanda? She's a sweetheart."
"So I'd be correct if I guessed it was about me?"
"Claudia --"
"Because if this is about the fans and Farscape --"
"You saw the tabs, too, Claudia, and the zines and the fansites and the signs at the cons."
"Yes, and I ignored them, because I'm an adult and don't let mad television fanatics and their fancies dictate my personal life."
"All right, fair enough, but Claudia --"
"You'll come to the game tonight?"
"Yeah, sure."
It'll be different this time, though. No double-teaming, no cards up the leg of Claudia's pants (they slid so easily into his lap, just two fingers a few inches under her cuff and he was one card shy of a royal flush), no drinking, because it was harder when he was smashed. Claudia held her liquor fine, just got meaner and better at bluffing, but Ben got sloppy and it seemed less scary and terrible to put an arm around her shoulder. He got less married when he got drunk, less Ben Browder and more John Crichton, more that guy, who'd better get lucky when he got the chance because his life was a perpetual exercise in coming just short of utter failure.
Cameron's not like that, really, but Ben can still see that other guy in the bottom of his beer bottle. Shuffling and awkward and devoted like a madman to earning Claudia's killer smile. So, different this time. He greets her and their castmates with the same curt nod, no squeezing of love handles, no winking or secret handshakes. Chris Judge might be a secret handshake kind of guy, but with secrets there's intimacy and with intimacy there's danger and this situation is dangerous enough, because Claudia's in street clothes that flatter her figure more than the ridiculous costumes they've got her wearing, jean jacket that cuddles her breasts, flared pants that leave the exact curve of Claudia's hips to Ben's overactive imagination. Deep breath, because this time will be different. Deep breath, and he looks at her face, because he's not that guy, not the guy who talks to a woman's breasts, but this is worse, because Claudia's no different, just more beautiful than ever as she relaxes into a folding chair.
Sweet smile that becomes a smirk as she doesn't bother to avoid staring at Ben's crotch, eyebrow cocked like she likes what she sees. Like she's ready to jump right back into the best-friends cot-in-his-trailer treated-like-a-queen adventure, but it doesn't work in Vancouver. It's an Oz thing, down under, world upside down, the ride of a lifetime and nobody knew. Now he's a big time star, it's always raining outside and Claudia's not this nowhere actor who's suddenly been transformed by the camera lights into Queenie McStar. She's got her hair up in pigtails and she's smiling at him.
"No way," he says. "Absolutely no way, not in hell, I'm getting out of here if you don't stop --"
"What?"
"I'm married, Claudia."
That doesn't erase the smirk. He doesn't like that. Doesn't like the freefall feeling that Claudia is directing this adventure, doesn't like the fact that this attempt at getting to know the cast has been transformed into just him and Claudia, like so many nights on Farscape when they'd been filming all day and Gigi and Anthony and everyone else had gone home at noon and they were too tired to find a hotel so they just crashed on their respective cots, listening to each other snore.
Claudia just smiles.
"There's no poker game, is there?"
"I bluffed?" She shrugs. The pigtails make her innocent. The pigtails belong on a woman who'd never try to give a married man a footjob.
"This has nothing to do with how the cast feels about me?"
"They adore you, Ben. Everyone adores you. You? Equal adorable."
"So this -- is. This isn't happening, Claudia. This is not happening this time. It's gonna be different, and it starts now."
"Yeah? You think you can stop it?"
"Yeah."
"Because you're stronger now? Found yourself some self-control? Or does the fanclub take care of all your dick-stroking needs?"
"You mean ego."
"In you, they're the same."
"Please, Claudia, we can do this -- we can do this differently. We can be friends."
Her smile is so bright it's like sunrise. "I'd like to be friends."
"We can't -- we can't do anything else."
"I'm going to pretend I believe you."
"Yeah?"
She gives him a hug that chokes his breath out, breasts smushed into his chest and hip pressed comfortably into his thigh. It's so familiar he can't block out the sense memory of a kiss, and he presses his lips to her head before he can do something more dangerous. Because it's different this time. He promised.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-02 02:22 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-02 03:08 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-02 03:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-02 09:22 am (UTC)Keeping in mind that I don't do RPF... I've been watching Claudia Black since well before Farscape (she came in on the final season of an old show called A Country Practice that finished when I was in year 10), and that sounds so very Claudia.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-01-02 09:25 am (UTC)*g* I'm glad.
(And thank you, as always, for reading things you wouldn't otherwise for my sake.)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-22 07:10 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-22 07:13 pm (UTC)