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toscas_kissSaber Rider & the Star Sheriffs ficlet written for the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
temps_mort 'Virgin' Challenge (write for a fandom you've never done before and one which hasn't appeared on temps_mort before) during my lunch hour. Dedicated to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ningengirai, who although she prefers Colt/Jesse, was the one who made me start thinking of this.
I haven't watched a full episode of this for years, so please forgive any inaccuracies.
Summary: Saber tracks down Jesse after the war.
Dust
Newcardiff was the type of borderlands outpost where only the disillusioned, desperate and marginally legal ended up. A planet of crumbling beige rock and sand and hollowness, where the wind shrieked across barren plains like an enraged banshee, blowing everything away in front of it, and wiping everything away behind it. Saber couldn’t remember visiting a more desolate place. It didn’t surprise him Jesse Blue had ended up here.
Nor had Jesse been surprised to see him. He’d displayed neither shock or fear, hadn’t actually said anything at all when Saber walked through the saloon doors, merely pushed a chair out from his table with one foot and waved at the bartender to bring another glass. But Saber hadn’t missed the fact Jesse’s other hand had flicked open his gun’s holster strap.
Saber shifted the chair to one side so the back was to the wall, and sat. Jesse, he thought, studying the other man he hadn’t seen in over two years, had changed little since the fall of Nemesis. The startling-coloured hair was longer, but the expression of amused arrogance was the same, the pale, pale skin was the same, the eyes as blue as bone-deep bruises were the same. His stomach twisted and hurt, just like it always had, when he looked at Jesse. Something so beautiful should be pure and fair, not pure poison.
The bartender plonked a glass onto the small table between them and the tense silence dissolved. Jesse poured a hefty shot of amber spirit into the glass, topped his own up and then gave Saber a mocking little toast before downing it. Saber ignored his.
“Well, I’m sure you didn’t come all this way just to have a drink with me, Star Sheriff,” drawled Jesse, “Though you do realise Newcardiff is an independent treaty world? No dragging me back to your sanctimonious little alliance unless you want to cause a massive scandal.”
He was right, of course.
“I’m not here on official business,” admitted Saber.
That did surprise Jesse. Wariness followed the brief flash of startlement on his face, along with a casual movement that ended with a hand on his pistol-butt.
“So what are you here for?”
And that was the question, wasn’t it?
Most of the Alliance thought Jesse Blue was dead, incinerated in the inferno that had consumed Nemesis. Fireball subscribed to that view. Colt endorsed it with great glee. April, he thought, hoped it was true, felt guilty that she thought that way, and in some deep inner place, suspected it wasn’t. Only Saber had never believed it, had never thought Jesse was dead.
But really, it didn’t matter whether he was or wasn’t in the end. No-one could erase the mistakes and crimes of the past, and all Jesse could look forward to at Alliance hands was complete personality rehabilitation. The man that resulted would have no resemblance to the individual slouching before him now. He’d be honest, compassionate and moral, a repentant and productive member of society. The type of person Saber would be glad to call ‘friend’. Yet Saber was unsure he wanted to meet that man.
Jesse laughed, a hard, humourless edge to the sound.
“What, you came to renew old acquaintance? To see how far I’d fallen? Perhaps the noble Star Sheriff even came here to save me,” the last said with a sneer.
Suddenly Jesse was leaning over the table, grabbing his wrist, rattlesnake-fast as he had ever been.
“And what if I don’t want to be saved, Star Sheriff. Did you think of that? Or don’t I get a choice?”
The hand clamped around his was echoed by a clamping sensation around his lungs. Saber wondered why he’d thought Jesse would have been changed by failure. The taste of defeat must be dust in his mouth.
“Your own choices so far haven’t been that wise,” he responded in flat, even tones, “You betrayed the Star Sheriffs, the Alliance. You even betrayed your own species, for all the good it did you.”
“Yes, well, if at first you don’t succeed. . .” Jesse smiled at him, sly and spiteful and wickedly beautiful, “And I don’t think you have the right to complain about some of my choices.”
There was nothing he could say to that which wouldn’t either be hypocritical or leave him unguarded.
“What are you really here for, Saber?”
-------------------
He woke to the sensation of long hair across his face, and opened his eyes to an azure veil. He lay silently, Jesse wrapped around him, as the early morning sun crept across the room to the bed. Eventually his thoughts and conscience were too loud to ignore, so he carefully extracted himself and dressed. He knew Jesse was awake and watching him, but neither spoke. He stopped with his hand on the door, hesitating.
Jesse’s voice was coolly unequivocal.
“Go away, Saber. I’ll see you in the next war.”
--end--
Disclaimer: Someone else owns this, who would probably be totally horrified by what I've done to their characters.
temps_mort 'Virgin' Challenge (write for a fandom you've never done before and one which hasn't appeared on temps_mort before) during my lunch hour. Dedicated to ningengirai, who although she prefers Colt/Jesse, was the one who made me start thinking of this.I haven't watched a full episode of this for years, so please forgive any inaccuracies.
Summary: Saber tracks down Jesse after the war.
Dust
Newcardiff was the type of borderlands outpost where only the disillusioned, desperate and marginally legal ended up. A planet of crumbling beige rock and sand and hollowness, where the wind shrieked across barren plains like an enraged banshee, blowing everything away in front of it, and wiping everything away behind it. Saber couldn’t remember visiting a more desolate place. It didn’t surprise him Jesse Blue had ended up here.
Nor had Jesse been surprised to see him. He’d displayed neither shock or fear, hadn’t actually said anything at all when Saber walked through the saloon doors, merely pushed a chair out from his table with one foot and waved at the bartender to bring another glass. But Saber hadn’t missed the fact Jesse’s other hand had flicked open his gun’s holster strap.
Saber shifted the chair to one side so the back was to the wall, and sat. Jesse, he thought, studying the other man he hadn’t seen in over two years, had changed little since the fall of Nemesis. The startling-coloured hair was longer, but the expression of amused arrogance was the same, the pale, pale skin was the same, the eyes as blue as bone-deep bruises were the same. His stomach twisted and hurt, just like it always had, when he looked at Jesse. Something so beautiful should be pure and fair, not pure poison.
The bartender plonked a glass onto the small table between them and the tense silence dissolved. Jesse poured a hefty shot of amber spirit into the glass, topped his own up and then gave Saber a mocking little toast before downing it. Saber ignored his.
“Well, I’m sure you didn’t come all this way just to have a drink with me, Star Sheriff,” drawled Jesse, “Though you do realise Newcardiff is an independent treaty world? No dragging me back to your sanctimonious little alliance unless you want to cause a massive scandal.”
He was right, of course.
“I’m not here on official business,” admitted Saber.
That did surprise Jesse. Wariness followed the brief flash of startlement on his face, along with a casual movement that ended with a hand on his pistol-butt.
“So what are you here for?”
And that was the question, wasn’t it?
Most of the Alliance thought Jesse Blue was dead, incinerated in the inferno that had consumed Nemesis. Fireball subscribed to that view. Colt endorsed it with great glee. April, he thought, hoped it was true, felt guilty that she thought that way, and in some deep inner place, suspected it wasn’t. Only Saber had never believed it, had never thought Jesse was dead.
But really, it didn’t matter whether he was or wasn’t in the end. No-one could erase the mistakes and crimes of the past, and all Jesse could look forward to at Alliance hands was complete personality rehabilitation. The man that resulted would have no resemblance to the individual slouching before him now. He’d be honest, compassionate and moral, a repentant and productive member of society. The type of person Saber would be glad to call ‘friend’. Yet Saber was unsure he wanted to meet that man.
Jesse laughed, a hard, humourless edge to the sound.
“What, you came to renew old acquaintance? To see how far I’d fallen? Perhaps the noble Star Sheriff even came here to save me,” the last said with a sneer.
Suddenly Jesse was leaning over the table, grabbing his wrist, rattlesnake-fast as he had ever been.
“And what if I don’t want to be saved, Star Sheriff. Did you think of that? Or don’t I get a choice?”
The hand clamped around his was echoed by a clamping sensation around his lungs. Saber wondered why he’d thought Jesse would have been changed by failure. The taste of defeat must be dust in his mouth.
“Your own choices so far haven’t been that wise,” he responded in flat, even tones, “You betrayed the Star Sheriffs, the Alliance. You even betrayed your own species, for all the good it did you.”
“Yes, well, if at first you don’t succeed. . .” Jesse smiled at him, sly and spiteful and wickedly beautiful, “And I don’t think you have the right to complain about some of my choices.”
There was nothing he could say to that which wouldn’t either be hypocritical or leave him unguarded.
“What are you really here for, Saber?”
-------------------
He woke to the sensation of long hair across his face, and opened his eyes to an azure veil. He lay silently, Jesse wrapped around him, as the early morning sun crept across the room to the bed. Eventually his thoughts and conscience were too loud to ignore, so he carefully extracted himself and dressed. He knew Jesse was awake and watching him, but neither spoke. He stopped with his hand on the door, hesitating.
Jesse’s voice was coolly unequivocal.
“Go away, Saber. I’ll see you in the next war.”
--end--
Disclaimer: Someone else owns this, who would probably be totally horrified by what I've done to their characters.
