The Glass Onion Text too small or too big? You can change it! Ctrl+ (bigger), Ctrl- (smaller)
or click on View in your browser and look for font or text size settings.

Home/Quicksearch  +   Random  +   Upload  +   Search  +   Contact  +   GO List


by hossgal

[Story Headers]

Halfway home, Chiana stopped and pulled it out, just for a microt, to take another look at it. Even in the veiled light of the night-hour corridor, it shimmered against the dull ash of her palm.

A distant thud made her head jerk up, but it was only the air handlers, shifting back on. Her eyes flickered, glancing up and down the hallway - empty, clean as a fresh-washed bowl. She turned her attention back to the prize in her hands.

Nerri would be very impressed - she could picture it already, how his eyes would light up, the shape his mouth would make, the shake of his hands as he reached to touch the gleaming thing.

He would want to know where she found it, because he'd want one, too. And why not? But for now, it was hers, and hers alone.

She cupped both hands around the pretty thing, put her back to the corridor wall and slid down. Her coat pooled at her feet as she knelt, the fiber-plast on the wall warm through through her clothes. One level up, the heat pumps labored on, shifting pressurized slurry through the chamber walls in a continuous wave, warming the whole city as it went. The steady pulse was too quiet to hear, but she could feel it, a rumble that tickled along her spine and set up resonance in her lungs. She leaned against the wall, just for a moment, and rubbed her back against it. The tremor ran up and down her skin, from the base of her skull to down to the flat bowl of her hips. There, low in her gut, the hum redoubled on itself. She tilted her head and let her skull touch the wall, lost in the sensation.

It was not until her closed fist fell on her thigh that she remembered her treasure.

She cupped it close again, slit one eye open to peer at it. Her breath misted on the outer shell, dampened the gleam for a moment. Then it cleared, and the polychrome sparkle shone through again.

A door slammed, around the corner. Chiana's head came up, and she scrambled to her feet at the sound of multiple footsteps. Before the intruders rounded the turn, she was moving, feet flashing beneath the coat hem, running for home.

Please post a comment on this story.

Fandom:  Farscape
Title:  Lightfingers
Author:  hossgal   [email]
Details:  Standalone  |  G  |  gen  |  2k  |  12/08/06
Characters:  Chiana
Summary:  For now, it was hers, and hers alone. Chiana, pre-series.
Notes:  No spoilers. 400 words.
Disclaimer/Other:  For Kernezelda, who asked for Chiana and a moment of joy. Thanks to Florastuart for beta. Disclaimer/Permissions/Contact: Farscape characters and concepts property of Kemper, et al, and BSG belongs to Ron Moore. Not me. This is a work of fanfiction. No copyright infringement is intended, no money is being made. Please do not archive without permission, please credit the author if remixing/borrowing original characters/etc. Reviewing, reccing, feedback (positive, not positive, concrit, all welcome) need neither permission nor notification. Feedback printed out and taped to Moya's frig at hosscheka at yahoo dot com.

[top of page]

Home/QuickSearch  +   Random  +   Upload  +   Search  +   Contact  +   GO List