#traysini

[linka-from-captain-planet]

consider: Traynor doesn't say where her rachni research lab was located so why not imagine the it was where the rachni were rediscovered: Noveria. Which is oh so cold so she would obviously need to rustle up a hot local (perhaps a blustery tomboy? an authority figure she probably shouldn't seduce? a fellow poor-background colony gal whose talents and work ethic won her a chance at a "better life" but in exchange for far too many years of it but who manages to find purpose and fulfillment anyway?) to keep her warm during the long hard deployment. This is how the galaxy's most elite crackship, Samantha/Gianna Parasini can win

[linka-from-captain-planet]

WIP Wednesday: playing with my crackship dollies, Samantha Traynor x Gianna Parasini edition. Featuring the most plausible situation in which they could actually have met, and also an inappropriate workplace relationship with an authority figure calling to Samantha like the green goblin mask (canon)

not sure if I would work this into my The L Word esque Samantha/Ashley/Gianna headcanon universe or end up with a standalone one-shot, but I'm taken with this ridic ship and wanted to write something regardless

[threewhiskeylunch]

56 for Parasini/Traynor?

56. Caught off-guard kiss

oooo! thanks!

~~~~~~

Pure chance that she runs into Shepard on the Citadel. Pure chance that Shepard invites her to a party at an apartment large enough it could have housed twenty. Pure chance that she’s not leaving until the day after.

Pure chance that Samantha Traynor is on Shepard’s crew; a woman Gianna had tried so hard to forget (but how could she forget someone as smart, as beautiful, as enthralling as Samantha Traynor?). But would have no chance of ever getting out of her mind, even before the party, before she sees Samantha dancing in the kitchen, hands up in the air, hips swaying, enticing and inviting and so lovely Gianna’s heart migrates from her chest to her throat so she has to swallow down all the everythings she’s ever wanted to say to the woman.

Pure chance. And yet, it feels inevitable.

Especially when Samantha’s face beams with a smile when she sees Gianna across the room, squeals and moves through the crowd directly for her, still dancing, but somehow walking and hopping and none of it looks in any way anything other than sensual, alluring, enticing.

And then Samantha’s arms are around her neck and her lips press to Gianna’s with such force and suddenness Gianna has no time to prepare, hands out at her sides (wanting to touch, afraid if she does she’ll have to let go at some point in the future), eyes open in shock and then closed at the pure bliss of it. Samantha smells of sweet sweat and spiced food, and tastes–when Samantha opens her mouth and licks at Gianna’s surprised-open lips–of alcohol and mint. Gianna finds her hands resting on the other woman’s hips and she feels solid and warm and very, very real.

Gianna Parasini is not one to overlook an opportunity that pure chance provides. So she kisses her back, resigns herself to Samantha Traynor forever being at the forefront of her mind.

She does this gladly.

[threewhiskeylunch]

Traysini: One's an herbologist, the other's a geologist.

Love it! (Traysini, for those who don’t know, is my new favorite rare pair: Gianna Parasini and Samantha Traynor)

—–

Gianna Parasini isn’t a woman to be trifled with, this much Samantha knows. She also knows that any overt romantic gesture will be shrugged off with the nonchalance of someone who is far too practical, and far too busy, to be bothered about anything other than that which she is so very passionate. Which is why she delicately sets this particular fossil of the glossopteris browniana down on Gianna’s desk, right in front of her nose so she can’t avoid noticing the perfect representation of their relationship.

—–

omg you made me do research. The GLOSSOPTERIS BROWNIANA is one of the oldest plants, similar to rhododendron. You’re welcome.