74 for Dee/Gant and/or 49 for [a ship you haven't thought of in awhile but it comes into your head while reading this and you say "hell yeah that pairing rules"]
I did both so they’re going under a read more!
74. Kisses Where One Person Is Sitting In The Other’s Lap
Arranged Marriage AU because it seemed to make the most sense!
—
Damon is fairly sure Dee’s only sitting in his lap for the scandal of it all. His bride to be is a lot of things, but clingy isn’t one of them. She’s got her arms threaded around his neck, but her eyes are as uninterested and calculating as ever. To everyone else it must look like she’s staring at him, but from his vantage point it’s easy to tell her gaze rests on the cluster of people gathered near the far wall.
It’s her mother, he thinks. Irritating Domenica is one of the few indulgences Dee allows herself. Personally, Damon doesn’t mind. He finds it entertaining. Besides, it’s good that there’s such animosity between them if he and Dee are planning to usurp Domenica’s place at the head of the family.
She means for them to be figureheads, probably, but Damon’s not content with that and he doubts Dee is either. Not with how sharp her gaze gets when her mother’s not looking. Speaking of Domenica, she seems to be very carefully restraining herself from spitting flames. At their, ah, display, no doubt.
“Kiss me,” Dee demands, unblinking.
“What?”
He’s asking to give her a chance to reconsider — he’s got no reservations, but this is mainly a business arrangement. Dee doesn’t repeat herself but she does stare him down with an expression that borders on annoyance. Ok. Message relayed. Gant feels a grin ticking at the corner of his mouth, but pushes it down to press their lips together. Somewhere, Domenica is probably about to erupt, but Gant’s focus is entirely on the woman in his arms, trying to decide whether he’s imagining the thread of passion in the way her mouth moves against his own.
---
49. Before Bed kiss
Ned/Olive, Pushing Daisies
I hurt myself deeply with this one but it’s fine. It’s fine.
—
Olive Snook was twenty-nine years, three months, five days, fifteen hours, and six minutes old — and not a minute more — when she sat down across from the Piemaker in his empty pie shop and watched him mope with his head buried in his folded arms.
“She’ll be back, you know,” Olive said, even though the words burned her throat like acid.
“Will she?” the Piemaker muttered, more to himself than her. “What if she doesn’t come back? Or someone recognizes her, or she goes after her dad and—”
“Ned!”
He jerked upright at the very loud shout. Across the pie shop, Digby perked up his ears. Deciding that Olive Snook’s raised voice was commonplace enough not to be concerned, he dropped his eternally golden muzzle back down on his paws and closed his eyes.
“Thinking about all the worst case scenarios isn’t gonna help,” Olive pointed out with her hands on her hips. “It’s late. You should get some sleep.”
“What if Chuck comes back and I’m not waiting? She might leave again, and I’d never even know!”
“If she does that she’s an idiot,” Olive told him decisively, grabbing one of his elbows to haul him out of the booth. “And she doesn’t deserve you.”
There were more words she wanted to say. I would never leave like that. Haven’t I been there for you, Ned? Haven’t I always been there?
But she had the good sense to keep such words buttoned behind her lips. The bond between the Piemaker and the girl named Chuck had been a thorn in her side for as long as she’d been aware of it, but attacking that bond had never gotten her anywhere except a one-way ticket to Heartbreak City in the county of Guilt.
So Olive Snook did as she had always done, and herded the Piemaker towards self-care despite his protests. She hooked her elbow through his, though their height difference turned her posture laughable, and marched him up the stairs, to the apartments above the pie shop. To his door, so close to hers and yet always too far to reach.
“Get some rest, will ya?” she ordered. “It’ll be better in the morning. And if it’s not, Emerson and I’ll help track Chuck down. Staying up all night won’t help anybody.”
“Thank you, Olive,” said the Piemaker after a long and contemplative pause. “I... You’re a good friend.”
And even though every muscle on her face wanted to frown, Olive Snook forced a smile. She knew that even if she leaned up on her tiptoes she wouldn’t be able to reach the Piemaker’s cheek for a kiss unless he bent down to accept it. She also knew that he wouldn’t accept it. Instead, she grabbed his large hand and gave his knuckles a gentle squeeze before dropping a kiss on them.
“Night, Ned.”
And with that she let him go. Turned away and walked into her apartment without looking back and closed the door behind her with a quick little snap.
If she had looked back, she might have seen the Piemaker standing in his doorway with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, cradling his hand to his chest.