"What was our first time like?"
Susan blinks. The stack of reports in front of her seems to have bred like spoo, and may or may not be making the same sad moaning noise. She has to drag her mind away from fuel consumption and ration expiry. "First time doing what?" When Talia doesn't answer, Susan turns to look back across the room to where her wife is sitting on the bed, staring at her levelly. "Oh," she says. "That first time. Why do you ask?"
Talia's robe pulls across her breasts as she lifts one slim shoulder in a shrug. "I just wonder sometimes, about those first few years."
"Not much happened really." Susan doesn't like to think about the gap in their relationship, or that Talia doesn't remember anything between the encounter with Mr. Abbut to her recovery from Vorlon Space five years ago. It seems too unfair. "Just a couple wars, two people falling in love, you admitting I was right about everything."
"I think that might have been the Psy Corps personality," Talia says, and laughs.
Susan winces. Talia only finds it funny because she doesn't remember the hate. Or possibly she's just better at dealing with trauma and betrayal than Susan is, which would put her on the same ship as just about everyone in the Alliance not named Michael Garibaldi.
"More lies," Talia continues lightly. "I missed one person falling in love. You know I loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you." It's not the first time she's told Susan that, but it makes her heart do this little happy leap every time.
She gets off the bed, a vision of soft curves and shimmering blue silk. Susan turns her chair to meet her. She feels her heart rate spike as Talia deliberately sways her hips, and her mouth dry as the robe slips open. Talia's not wearing a damn thing under it.
"So," Talia says, and leans down to rest her forearms on Susan's shoulders. It brings her breasts to eye level, and every thought Susan ever had about anything else throws up a white flag and falls back. "So," she says again, firm and deliberate. "Tell me about the first time we made love. I want to remember."
"How–" Susan's voice can't quite make it there, and she has to clear her throat. "How about I show you instead."
Talia purrs in reply, and the paperwork, disregarded, continues to moan softly from her desk.
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