Dude, Where's My Purse

[Gillian Rel]

One minute he was floating in an endless ocean but when the cloud pushed him back down he expected to be pushed under water, he instead landed on sand. The ocean spray had been replaced with a dry, hot breeze. The drugs coursed through his veins, mixing with the alcohol, his body temperature rose as a pleasant, euphoric tingling sensation spread across his chest and this his limbs.

He reached out a hand, pulling back a handful of sand. Where was he? Why had they come here? He let the tiny grains of sand trickle through his finger. This place was hot, his throat dry. He grabbed the bottle and held it to his mouth. Then he felt the cold finger slowly trace his face, where ever her touch went, crystals formed. It wasn't a painful cold, just a chilling sensation that mixed in with all of the other sensations he was experiencing.

He looked up, actually seeing Tasha, but her skin was made of the smoothest ice. His hand went to her leg, running up the impossibly smooth surface. He traced the line where he dress fell. He heard a ripping sound, vaguely aware it was his own shirt but transfixed elsewhere.

Ice ran down his chest as her hand moved down. He looked up as she spoke, ice starting spread across the sands around them. "Don't do that!" he said, light squeezing her leg "The desert is warm..." he said trailing off as he met her endless golden stare. He lay like that for some time, could have been seconds or hours or longer. Time seemed irrelevant. "Where are we..." he asked, voice just barely above a whisper.

 

[Tasha Blackwell]

Her world switched between Pantora and Korriban, and sometimes even to Mon Cala. She could see the sand dunes rippling under the sun, only to shift and sway into the waves of an ocean. She could smell the salty air, right before she felt nothing but scorching heat. That heat began from where he touched her leg and rapidly coursed throughout her entire body. It burned within her like fire, igniting into flames that traveled out to all her extremities.

As he told her to stop freezing the desert, she did so, glancing down at him curiously. She could briefly see him, his gaze once again meeting hers. The green emeralds had an almost haunting quality to them, and she could almost see a path behind them, as if the eyes were a glassy surface over the entrance to a temple. Tasha could only stare, transfixed by this new path through the desert. His entire body was warm, and it clashed against her cool skin. She felt as if she were the sea now, cold and icy. Her eyes were gems as well, cold and glassy, but they hid nothing behind them. Hers were a rich yellow, and she had no pupils or any means of displaying what went on inside her mind.

Tasha decided she wanted more of this warmth. Without a word, she abruptly rolled over and yanked him with her. She would end up on the ground and with him on top. Tasha’s legs traveled up the sides of his to loosely wrap around his hips, savoring the explosion of warmth that came from his body. She had upturned the entire dunes themselves, dumping them onto the vast oceans that she was. The warmth enveloped her, and those emerald eyes were much closer now.

One of her hands came up against the side of his face, a finger finally tracing along one of those ears she was curious about this entire time. Her gaze didn’t meet his, drifting to the side to look at the great sun that hung above him, “Where do you want to be?” She asked in a quiet voice that sounded as if it echoed from a million miles away.

 

[Gillian Rel]

The earth itself shook and then gave way, the sky becoming the air, the becoming the land. It seemed led to last a lifetime, throughout all the chaos he saw those two golden orbs hanging in the sky, serving as a guide.

As they rolled, the office door which had been blocked from closing, occasionally hitting Gil's foot, was finally cleared. It slid shut, an audible groan of disappointment could be heard from those out in the bar.

A strong gust of wind blew at his back, clearing the chaotic storm of sand and water. When it finally cleared he found himself in a perfectly still body of water. Its colors shifted in hues of blue and purple. Tasha was underneath him, laying in the shallow pool. Her hair spreading out in the water behind her, red hues spreading into the water.

She seemed to be in the water, but also apart of it. Legs emerging from water, wrapping around him. He was slowly pulled down towards her. The water crawled up his arms, and then his chest, then spread across his body. Always pulling him further and further down. It was hard to find himself up in a shallow, endless pool of water.

With his face inches from hers, the woman moved her lips to speak, but the words seemed distant but crystal clear in this perfectly quiet place. It took an eternity to process the words and another to even remember what words were.

“Here” he said so quietly it would barely be audible, moving the hairs breath further, his lips gently touching hers.

 

[Tasha Blackwell]

There was nothing but warmth, and she felt as if she were walking through fire. It was oddly comforting, and it clashed so perfectly well against the icy chill she brought. He went from being the desert back to that boat she had scrambled atop to save her from the waves. She was the ocean now, and he floated atop her depths. He leaned in closer, his lips pressing against hers, and she felt her heartbeat quicken – or did it slow? It felt as if it did both at the same time. She didn’t even smell the sewers anymore, only the scent that was just him. Her fingers slid from his ear and moved over to the back of his head, curling into his hair.

She had no words left to say, no room to say it. Tasha captured his lips with her own, pulling him into her icy world. There was no turning back now, and all her thoughts of anger and rage from before melted away. She saw glimpses of him in between the elements they had broken down into – and she sometimes saw the sun and sometimes his face. She tasted him, tasted the alcohol, the sweat lining his skin, and all of it was exquisite then.

Everything that happened after that was a whirlwind of events. Tasha was the ocean, tidal waves that rose and fell and moved without regard. He was the ship that held fast through it, rising and falling with each crest and trough. The waves rippled, danced and spiraled, washing over the ship, and the ship kept course, coasting through the perfectly smooth surfaces and submerging into the depths and staying true to its destination.

All other thoughts were forgotten, and all transgressions forgiven. There was nothing but heat of the sun and the gentle ripples of the waves, nothing but the winds of their breaths and sighs, all their wars forgotten.

---​

None of that was the case as Tasha began to come back into consciousness the following morning.

At some point, they had managed to end up atop the desk in the room. She had passed out unceremoniously atop him. Her head throbbed painfully with the slightest movement, and she blinked open her eyes, trying to remember everything. Tasha moved to get off him, but she tilted too far and fell right off the edge, landing on the carpet. She groaned from the fall, rubbing her face and eyes as she began to remember everything.

“Damn it,” She muttered under her breath, reaching a hand up to the desk to hoist herself up. Tasha glanced over at Gil and immediately scowled at him, “This… changes nothing,” She pointed a finger at him. She was back to thinking he was a complete moron. Tasha grumbled to herself, wandering around to find her clothing. She couldn’t spot the dress anywhere, but she felt a sudden wave of nausea hit her.

“Oh….shit..” Tasha rushed over to a garbage bin directly next to the desk Gil was on and began to vomit into it. There were no morning cuddles or anything like that, just her retching violently into a waste bin all the alcohol and drugs that she had ingested the night before.

 

[Gillian Rel]

He was pulled from a dreamless sleep when she stirred. He groaned slightly, protesting the return of consciousness. Even with his protest, the galaxy slapped him across the face as she crashed to the ground. Waves of pain radiated from his head, done through his body.

"Uggghh." he groaned again. Everything is body hurt, from the night previous and the mission before it. He looked over at her as she stood, hands covering his face except for one eye. Its green colors were mixed with red. "Damn it." he mirrored, laying there for a moment longer. His head pounded, why was this light so forced gods damned bright!

He pushed himself up slowly, trying to cause the least amount of pain possible. Every muscle protested wildly. Tasha ran to the garbage can, violently sick. It would come for Gil soon too, he could feel it brewing. Hopefully, he could get upstairs before though.

He sat on top of the desk, hands on his knees as he tried to find his balance. "Shit..." he said, forcing himself to stand. He walked over beside her and the filing cabinet and picked up the purse that lay there. It had been sitting about three feet from where they had started on the floor. He dropped it on the floor. "You won't want to forget that." he said patting her on the shoulder unromantically, as she vomited again. Did she have to do that so loud?

He scanned the room, looking for his pants and found them on the other side of the room. Her dress had ended up thrown over a fake tree that stood behind the desk.

He moved across the room, pick up the pants. He would need to burn these clothes for sure later.