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seriousficTitle: The memories that make you whole
Fandom: Resident Evil: Afterlife
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,156
Characters/Pairings: Claire/Alice, Jill Valentine
Summary: The more Claire remembers of Alice, the less her memories make sense.
"How are you feeling?" Alice asked. The battle with Umbrella had been hairy, and Claire had gotten her shoulder dislocated prying the scarab off Jill. Even though she'd popped it back in, Alice was taking no chances. She'd wrapped Claire's arm in a sling and sent her to bed, where she now sat on the mattress, dabbing at Claire's bruises with a wet towel. Even under mind control, Jill had one hell of a right hook.
Claire half-heartedly batted away the washcloth as Alice tried to get at her split lip. "I'll be fine."
"Well, keep resting up. It's not like the Beatles are going to be reuniting anytime soon."
Claire raised an eyebrow as Alice rose to walk away. "Hey, without me watching your ass, you'll be zombie chow in no time."
"I'll try to avoid any fine dining establishments." Alice pulled the covers up to Claire's throat. "Sleep! I mean it this time. We'll get by without you for as long as it takes."
"I'm sleeping, I'm sleeping!" Claire hugged her pillow and closed her eyes. "See? Totally asleep."
"Good." Alice shuffled back. "And don't let me catch you out of bed, young lady."
"Alice?" Claire asked, her voice lower, her tiredness starting to show. It'd been a long few days. A long few years.
The blonde stopped. "What, you want a glass of water?"
"Why are you like this with me?"
"Like what?"
"I don't know." Claire opened her eyes to see Alice staring at her with a fixed expression, like she wanted to smile but couldn't. Claire was used to that. It was tough, smiling when there was a zombie apocalypse on and you were in charge. Seemed sacrilegious, even when there was nothing left to believe in. "You baby me more than my big brother does. You're not a very open person, but you talk to me. About everything. I'm just wondering if we're BFFs or what?"
"Don't you remember?"
"It's hazy. I remember how I lost my boy-virginity, but not my girl-virginity. So anything you want to tell me?"
"It's complicated."
"How complicated?"
Alice went to the door and paused there. She'd arranged for Claire to have a private room. Just another little thing. "You're the only friend I remember. Maybe the only friend worth remembering."
She shut the door before she could say anymore.
***
Claire was dreaming almost before she fell asleep.
***
Claire liked having Alice around, both because she could remake Backdraft with her mind and because she was a welcome break from the monotony of death and survival. K-Mart showed her the little cosmetics they'd scrounged and Claire showed her the guns.
"You stop out in the open?" Alice asked as they walked through the makeshift camp. Their little convoy was circling the wagons, parked around an old highway rest stop. Everyone appreciated a warm place to shit.
Claire led her through the vehicles, strutting like a proud mama. "Our spotters haven't seen a zombie for ninety clicks, and my boys are installing the motion detectors. We stay put for eleven hours. Zombie travel at about six miles an hour. There's no way they can reach us by dawn. We're safer here than we are in a city, with who knows what lurking around."
"Impressive," Alice drawled.
Claire had the strange feeling that she was referring to more than just the operation. Maybe it had something to do with how she was walking in front of Alice.
"This is Pumbaa," Claire said, patting the hood of her Dodge Ram VTS, parked on the outskirts of camp where she could keep an eye on the perimeter, and have some privacy from the tiring concerns of civilians. Let Carlos handle that shit for a while.
"Pumbaa?" Alice returned, one eyebrow cocked in that way of hers that always seemed slightly naughty.
"I wanted to call it the Warthog… one of the kids asked what a warthog was… thus, Pumbaa. See the bumper?" Claire reached down and pulled out a white splinter. "Bone. I didn't put that there. Anytime a zombie horde is blocking our way, we put Pumbaa in front and blaze a trail. I don't get to drive her often, but when I do…"
"Pumbaa's a girl?" Alice asked wryly.
Claire dropped the bone chip so it landed on Alice's foot. "And when you were having so much fun riding around the desert with a couple hundred horsepower between your legs, what were you strapped to? Boy or a girl?"
Alice smirked right back at her. "Hogs are always men. Girls are a smoother ride."
"Mmm." Claire popped the door like it came as a surprise to her, then eased into the driver's seat. "You wanna ride with me?"
She patted the seat next to her, but Alice just leaned in through the window. "I don't know if you'd be fast enough."
"Aww. Little girl's scared of a big engine. Maybe I can find you a nice rice burner with a child safety seat."
"Ooh. Reverse psychology. I'm helpless." Alice swung the door open and climbed in. She put her elbow up on the seatback. "Lots of backseat. Bet you could get into all sorts of trouble back there."
"Oh yeah. I speak from experience."
Alice leaned her seat back, gazing at Claire over her breasts. "Comfy, too."
"Wait until I start the engine." Eyebrows raised like a pervert, Claire slotted the key into the ignition. The engine shook itself to life, sending a bass tremor through Alice's body. She gasped.
"I'm in love," Alice declared, putting her palms on the dash, feeling the vibration up into her chest. "What's the biggest creature feature you've ever killed with this baby?"
"Zombie. Bear."
Alice rested her head on the dashboard, grinning up at Claire. "If I were a guy, I'd be so hard right now."
"And since you're a girl?"
Alice just smiled some more.
"Wanna see my favorite part?"
"Depends." Alice daintily pulled her shoulder strap back from where it had fallen loose. "What's your favorite part?"
Claire reached back and opened up the back-window, crawling out and not caring that Alice got a 3D screening of her ass. Not caring so hard it was almost on purpose.
In the flatbed, she opened up the toolbox, pulled out the first layer of supplies and then started pulling out creature comforts. There was an electric blanket, a down comforter, satin sheets, even some scented candles. When Claire was done unwinding them, the flatbed had been transformed into a queen-sized bed.
"It's not a warm bed," Claire said, lighting the candles and putting them on top of the cab. "But it's the next best thing. Hand me the radio."
Alice picked up the CB microphone from where it'd been stuffed in the glove compartment and passed it up to Claire, who thumbed the transmit button and said "Lyle, stop playing that rap crap and put on something I can dance to."
Their own personal pirate radio station – before the apocalypse, one of the nuttier ham radio enthusiasts had bought an old fire truck and converted the ladder into a radio antenna. Whenever they stopped, he ran the antenna up and started broadcasting calls for help, advertisements for sanctuary. After four months with no contact, he'd started playing DJ. It was the same message. We're still alive.
Alice turned up the radio and over the speakers, echoed by every radio in the camp, Britney Spears started crooning her way through Toxic.
Claire laid back on the comforter-turned-mattress, letting her body wind down from alert mode for the night. "Kids these days."
"You wanna dance?" Alice asked from inside the truck.
Claire kicked off her boots and flicked at Alice's hair with her toes. "No."
Alice brushed Claire's foot away, but kept hold of it, digging her thumb into her calf in a manner that maybe wasn't supposed to feel as good as it did. After a moment of wordless communication, she pulled herself out of the cab, landing on all fours and staying there. Her hands pressed into the thick bedding.
"Rank hath its privileges,.
Claire spread her legs until her feet were touching the sides of the flatbed. "Yeah, I get first pick of all the virgins."
Alice crawled over her, hands brushing against Claire's body as they landed on either side of her. "Afraid I don't qualify."
"Baby, I'll make you feel like one."
"Madonna-style?"
"Oh yeah."
Alice pressed down hard on Claire's chest, not her breasts, her clavicle, bone on bone. The truck groaned a little on its shocks. Alice had power. Claire liked that about her. After a moment of waiting expectantly under her hands, Alice reared up onto her knees and ran her hands over Claire's fatigues, feeling the frayed thread, the outlines of ammo clips in her many pockets. The few moments when Alice's fingers hit upon a spot with no layers, making them nearly skin against skin, electrified Claire.
Her hands met at Claire's belt, snapping it open, the heavy pouches and holstered sidearm thudding nosily against the flatbed even through the comforter. Claire held still, liking the confidence with which Alice ruthlessly dismantled the clothes she slept in, lived in, ate in. The last time she'd had them off was days ago, when there hadn't been undead for two hundred klicks and they'd had time to rig up a shower. Since then, and before then, it felt like they'd been caked on. Alice didn't mind the musk of sweat and old adrenaline. She brought the zipper down in one elegant tease and held Claire's jacket to either side as she struggled out of it, her aviator sunglasses slipping from her lapels as she did, tumbling to the side of the flatbed. That little tink was the loudest noise there.
Claire felt Alice's eyes on her, as heavy and as physical as her hands had been, tracing the outline of her bra through her tanktop. She tugged down the shoulder straps, one by one, and then shimmied the top down to Claire's waist. Her bra came next, spread out to either side just like her belt. Claire didn't even feel the cold.
"Take off your pants," Alice said, her tone brooking no disagreement, as she raised up again to shrug off her duster, her vest, the many little ingredients that somehow added up to the ideal survivalist suit. Just as soon as her bra was off, her nipples hardened in the cold. She covered them with her arms, far too soon for Claire's liking. "Chilly out."
The message was clear. Claire pulled off her suspenders and jammed her fatigues down around her ankles, kicking them off along with her tanktop and boy-cut panties. Alice smiled approvingly and continued undressing, first unstrapping her thigh holsters, then unbuckling her stockings from her khaki shorts. She took off both shorts and panties in one go, leaving her in nothing but stockings and boots and the scarf still absurdly wrapped around her neck.
"That's all I get?" Claire asked.
"I've been walking through the desert for three days," Alice said. "You don't want my boots off."
"And the scarf?"
"It's lucky."
"And the stockings?"
"You really want 'em off?"
"Yeah, I do." Claire sat up and worked her fingers under the tops of them. "You mind?"
This close, she could smell Alice's arousal. "Fuck no."
The stockings ripped like a bandage coming off, Alice gnashing her teeth together and moaning briefly as it happened. Claire couldn't help herself. She threw her face between Alice's legs, running her hands over those thighs, making Alice use all her mouth to shape a moan when teeth hit her clit.
"Shaved legs," Claire observed, enjoying turning the tables on Alice, teasing her right back. Her fingers massaged the spot behind Alice's knee, an obvious erogenous zone. "You're such a girl."
"And you're not one for foreplay," Alice shot back. "Such a dude."
"It's the apocalypse. You have time?"
"No," Alice conceded, palming her hand to the top of Claire's baseball cap and forcing her head between her legs.
Fuck, Claire had missed this. Twenty-two women on the convoy and they collectively added up to about a .3 on the Kinsey Scale. As vulgar as it sounded, even in her own head, she'd missed pussy. She'd missed taking a new woman home and finding out all the little workings of her body, like she was back in college, devouring a book and turning it into knowledge, a neat little essay. Every pleasure point catalogued, every sigh and moan and mumbled obscenity cited. More than booze or weed or pile-driving into a herd of zombies at 80 MPH, it let her forget how fucked they were and feel like the world hadn’t ended.
"Fuck, oh fuck," Alice huffed. Her legs were trying to bolt from under her. She drifted back, steadying herself on the cab. The way Claire was eating pussy was like a school of piranha stripped a cow to the bone – frenzied, overwhelming, and fucking effective. "Been a while, huh?"
"Hasn't for you?" Claire returned, giving her tongue a rest to let her fingers play. She loved the feel of Alice around her digits, so tight and warm and moist. "When was the last time someone else did this for you?" She curled her fingers and Alice clenched on them, so hard it almost hurt. Biting her lip, Claire defiantly added another finger. Alice couldn't take it. Her hip wagging hard in symphony, she came hard enough to fill Claire's hand with her juices. It had taken less than a minute. "That long, huh? My turn." Very pleased with herself, Claire lolled back onto the mattress, sucking her fingers into her mouth and letting them out with an audible pop.
Alice was still laid out over the cab, nearly bent over backwards, breasts straining as her lungs tried to get air to all of her body. Her inner thighs shimmered from Claire's effort. "Shit. You bitch. No fair," she muttered.
Claire finished licking off her palm and now wiped her saliva off on her chest, painting a slick trail between her breasts. "It's not my fault if you can't keep up. Come on. Return the favor. Or are you a tease?"
Alice righted herself, her breath visible in the cool air. "Oh, you're asking for it."
"Yeah. I am."
Alice's glare broke. She smiled coquettishly and hugged herself, rubbing her arms to restore the circulation. "It's cold out."
"It's the desert."
Alice modestly crossed her legs, boots scraping against each other, tatters of her stockings blowing in the breeze. "What if someone sees us?"
Claire could still smell her, rich and decadent, like the inside of a chocolate shop. "I think they've figured out to leave me alone unless it's an emergency."
"And what if there's an emergency?" Alice protested, now shifting her hips so her dark pubic hair flashed in and out of view.
Claire couldn't help herself from following it. "Then I will personally rip its head off, come back here, and fuck you with the biggest phallic object I can find."
"Sweet-talker, eh?"
Claire couldn't take it anymore. She reached up and pulled Alice down, on top of her, kissing her with a needy whimper as she rolled her onto her back. Alice hissed like she was having another orgasm as Claire bit down on her neck.
"Give me one and I'll give you another," Claire promised, after a breath of hot vapor in her ear. "I'll make it last this time, not let you off the hook for a long time. Even if you beg me."
"Sweet-talker," Alice said again, flipping Claire onto her back. She gathered up the sheets and covered them both, cutting off the night. In the sudden straitjacket of the blanket, Alice's heat was shocking.
"I'm gonna fuck you so hard," Alice said, reaching down with callused fingers until she was spreading Claire open, teasing her clit with one short fingernail. Claire nearly choked on air. "You're not going to be able to do me back when I'm done. You won't even be able to walk."
"Promises, promises."
Alice skewered Claire with her middle finger, biting off any further smart-mouthing with a sharp gasp. She drew her hand back and rammed Claire again, deep and hard, another gasp, and another and another, no matter how many times Claire felt it. She finally closed her panting mouth and locked her jaw shut, refusing to let Alice hear what it was she was doing to her.
Alice smiled challengingly. Her other hand snaked over Claire's hip and down to her ass, fingernails biting into her flesh, biceps solidifying as she actually lifted Claire a little, making the angle of her thrusting finger even more intense. Claire gritted her teeth together as Alice's hand groped her firm, round cheek.
"I knew how you'd like it the second I saw you," Alice drawled, her voice entirely even, amused if anything. "You like being put in your place, don't you bad girl?" Her nails raked over Claire's ass, drawing scarlet lines that sizzled anew when her skin dropped against the comforter. "You like it to hurt a little. So does it hurt? A little?"
Claire's arms and legs lashed out in all directions, searching for relief, something to hang onto. The featureless interior of the flatbed offered no relief. She nearly crushed her aviators before tossing them aside. Finally, she grabbed hold of her gunbelt and brought it over her head, grabbing either end and trying to pull it apart with all her might. It was nearly distraction enough from Alice adding a second finger.
"Oh fuck!" Claire breathed, before actually gagging herself with the belt, holding it over her mouth like duct tape.
Above her, Alice licked her lips. "You know what's adorable? You, trying to hold back, thinking if you don't, your little flock won't respect you in the morning. Honey, they're going to know anyway, because you won't be walking straight. So you might as well scream my name as I make you come."
She jerked her fingers out then, and Claire could've screamed in protest, only Alice slapped her hands down on Claire's shoulders – she could feel the heat and dripping wetness of the fingers that had been inside her, right on the curve of her neck – and brought her hips around so they were touching there.
Claire was breathless, speechless, coming. But Alice didn’t let her off the hook. She bucked against Claire, thrusting against her like a man, rubbing their pussies together and together like flints. There was too much of her, her lips locking against Claire's, her breasts rubbing against Claire's, her scarf scratching against Claire's chest, her pussy… oh, fuck, her pussy. It was like she was an open flame and Claire was a gallon of kerosene.
"Say my name," Alice said calmly, nearly inaudible under the din of Claire's pitched breathing. She slowed the pace but increased the force, bruising Claire's ass all the way through the comforter and into the flatbed. Her voice raised too. "Say my name!"
Claire was too far gone to protest, but getting the words out was another matter. Her nipples were even tighter than they'd been in the cold, even though the heat around her had reached feverish intensity. Her mouth was dry, as were her lips. She had the certain feeling that if she opened her mouth, even for an instance, everything she was feeling would tumble out. She was going to come, she could feel it in her thumping heart, her burning breasts, all the way down to her toes.
"You can come like this," Alice was saying. "You can come right now."
It felt like she was already. It felt like Alice wouldn't let her stop coming, the pleasure uninterrupted, hurting in its intensity. She needed relief. She needed the afterglow, the pillow talk, the sweet oblivion of going to sleep in another's arms. She had missed that almost more than the sex itself.
She forced herself to speak. "Alice… oh, Alice. You're fucking me."
Alice's laugh came from deep in her belly. "That's right, Claire. That's absolutely right."
Somehow, Alice went faster than she ever had before, so fast the truck squeaked on its rocking wheels and Claire felt her clit being struck so many times by Alice's pelvic bone, that it was like she was being chiseled away at by some indefatigable machine. And soon, there was nothing of her left, just Alice's pleasure, spreading through both of them.
"Yessss," Alice let out like a puff of cigarette smoke, sounding more fucked out than she had been after Claire had made her come. She rocked against Claire a few more times, dragging her clit through the thatch of Claire's pubic hair, but they were both done.
Claire sobbed in air as her heartrate plunged back to normal. When she'd finally gotten herself back under control, gotten her eyes to their normal Eastwood slant and her jaw steam-shovel hard again, Alice rolled off her. Dimly, Claire felt her belt drop from her limp hands.
"I fucked you," Alice whispered in Claire's ear, pleased as punch. She picked up Claire's hand and licked first one finger, then two, and finally took three into her mouth, soaking them with spit before bringing it down to the junction of her thighs…
"No more," Claire pleaded. "Any more of that and the only way I'll be walking is as one of those things."
"That sounds like a rain check," Alice hinted.
"I owe you one orgasm," Claire said, writing it out on Alice's back with her finger. Alice giggled and reached for her clothes. "Hey." Alice paused. "You even have a bed?"
"I have an army blanket in my back."
"And you have this." Claire fluffed up her pillow and offered up the right side of it to Alice, scrunching herself onto the opposite side.
"Inviting me to your slumber party?" Alice asked.
"Maybe I just want some morning-after sex."
"Oh, you definitely want morning-after sex." Alice crashed back down next to Claire. She took her scarf off and wrapped it around her forearm, adding it to the pillow.
For a moment, they laid there, just staring at each other. The song had long since ended, and now the radio played their old distress message, broadcasting their coordinates, calling for other survivors, asking for sanctuary.
Claire moved closer, putting her arms around Alice. Alice was taller than her, but she was slender and hadn't had a decent meal in who knew how long. She could feel the bones under that lovely, porcelain, scarred, burned skin. "I'm tired," Claire said. "No more talking."
Alice agreed, tucking her head under Claire's chin and letting herself be held. Claire didn't know how much she'd needed the fuck, but she'd definitely needed this, a touch, a soft voice, a moment to let her guard down.
Forty-one people in the convoy, forty-one people she had to protect. There was room for one more.
***
Claire woke up hazily, feeling exhausted, like Alice had been closer to five minutes ago than five months. Someone was standing over her bed, leaning against the wall, arms crossed and head down. Claire looked at her.
"Alice?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.
"No. Hotter." Jill Valentine. She straightened the white scrubs she'd been given after her own clothes were destroyed. "You're awake."
"Good call."
"I wanted to talk to you," she said. "Apologize for earlier. I hate to give a beatdown someone hasn't earned."
"It's fine," Claire said. "I know what it's like to be fitted with one of those things. Where's Alice?"
"I'll go get her. You got beef?"
"Something like that," Claire said. "Catch you later."
"Count on it," Jill said, moving for the door. "I'll be wearing something nicer then."
Claire sagged back to her pillow, wondering if some sort of point had been made.
***
Alice was there a few minutes later, her bloody clothes cleaned and sewn up. With a hot bath and a good night's sleep behind her, she made them look like designer fashion. One look at Claire and she said "You remember."
"Yeah," Claire said. "I was kind of a skank, wasn't I?"
Alice grinned. "Armageddon isn't exactly the best time for long courtships." She took up her old position at the foot of Claire's bed, this time with an added twist. Her hand on Claire's knee, gently squeezing. "Do you remember what you said to me before Arcadia?"
Claire shook her head. "I can't remember my middle name."
Alice squeezed a little harder. "'You still owe me a fuck.'"
Claire found herself finishing the exchange on autopilot. "'Come to Alaska, I'll fuck the highlights out of your hair.'"
"That offer still stand?"
"Depends. Are you a natural blonde?"
It didn't take long to figure out why Alice had given her a private room.
Fandom: Resident Evil: Afterlife
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4,156
Characters/Pairings: Claire/Alice, Jill Valentine
Summary: The more Claire remembers of Alice, the less her memories make sense.
"How are you feeling?" Alice asked. The battle with Umbrella had been hairy, and Claire had gotten her shoulder dislocated prying the scarab off Jill. Even though she'd popped it back in, Alice was taking no chances. She'd wrapped Claire's arm in a sling and sent her to bed, where she now sat on the mattress, dabbing at Claire's bruises with a wet towel. Even under mind control, Jill had one hell of a right hook.
Claire half-heartedly batted away the washcloth as Alice tried to get at her split lip. "I'll be fine."
"Well, keep resting up. It's not like the Beatles are going to be reuniting anytime soon."
Claire raised an eyebrow as Alice rose to walk away. "Hey, without me watching your ass, you'll be zombie chow in no time."
"I'll try to avoid any fine dining establishments." Alice pulled the covers up to Claire's throat. "Sleep! I mean it this time. We'll get by without you for as long as it takes."
"I'm sleeping, I'm sleeping!" Claire hugged her pillow and closed her eyes. "See? Totally asleep."
"Good." Alice shuffled back. "And don't let me catch you out of bed, young lady."
"Alice?" Claire asked, her voice lower, her tiredness starting to show. It'd been a long few days. A long few years.
The blonde stopped. "What, you want a glass of water?"
"Why are you like this with me?"
"Like what?"
"I don't know." Claire opened her eyes to see Alice staring at her with a fixed expression, like she wanted to smile but couldn't. Claire was used to that. It was tough, smiling when there was a zombie apocalypse on and you were in charge. Seemed sacrilegious, even when there was nothing left to believe in. "You baby me more than my big brother does. You're not a very open person, but you talk to me. About everything. I'm just wondering if we're BFFs or what?"
"Don't you remember?"
"It's hazy. I remember how I lost my boy-virginity, but not my girl-virginity. So anything you want to tell me?"
"It's complicated."
"How complicated?"
Alice went to the door and paused there. She'd arranged for Claire to have a private room. Just another little thing. "You're the only friend I remember. Maybe the only friend worth remembering."
She shut the door before she could say anymore.
***
Claire was dreaming almost before she fell asleep.
***
Claire liked having Alice around, both because she could remake Backdraft with her mind and because she was a welcome break from the monotony of death and survival. K-Mart showed her the little cosmetics they'd scrounged and Claire showed her the guns.
"You stop out in the open?" Alice asked as they walked through the makeshift camp. Their little convoy was circling the wagons, parked around an old highway rest stop. Everyone appreciated a warm place to shit.
Claire led her through the vehicles, strutting like a proud mama. "Our spotters haven't seen a zombie for ninety clicks, and my boys are installing the motion detectors. We stay put for eleven hours. Zombie travel at about six miles an hour. There's no way they can reach us by dawn. We're safer here than we are in a city, with who knows what lurking around."
"Impressive," Alice drawled.
Claire had the strange feeling that she was referring to more than just the operation. Maybe it had something to do with how she was walking in front of Alice.
"This is Pumbaa," Claire said, patting the hood of her Dodge Ram VTS, parked on the outskirts of camp where she could keep an eye on the perimeter, and have some privacy from the tiring concerns of civilians. Let Carlos handle that shit for a while.
"Pumbaa?" Alice returned, one eyebrow cocked in that way of hers that always seemed slightly naughty.
"I wanted to call it the Warthog… one of the kids asked what a warthog was… thus, Pumbaa. See the bumper?" Claire reached down and pulled out a white splinter. "Bone. I didn't put that there. Anytime a zombie horde is blocking our way, we put Pumbaa in front and blaze a trail. I don't get to drive her often, but when I do…"
"Pumbaa's a girl?" Alice asked wryly.
Claire dropped the bone chip so it landed on Alice's foot. "And when you were having so much fun riding around the desert with a couple hundred horsepower between your legs, what were you strapped to? Boy or a girl?"
Alice smirked right back at her. "Hogs are always men. Girls are a smoother ride."
"Mmm." Claire popped the door like it came as a surprise to her, then eased into the driver's seat. "You wanna ride with me?"
She patted the seat next to her, but Alice just leaned in through the window. "I don't know if you'd be fast enough."
"Aww. Little girl's scared of a big engine. Maybe I can find you a nice rice burner with a child safety seat."
"Ooh. Reverse psychology. I'm helpless." Alice swung the door open and climbed in. She put her elbow up on the seatback. "Lots of backseat. Bet you could get into all sorts of trouble back there."
"Oh yeah. I speak from experience."
Alice leaned her seat back, gazing at Claire over her breasts. "Comfy, too."
"Wait until I start the engine." Eyebrows raised like a pervert, Claire slotted the key into the ignition. The engine shook itself to life, sending a bass tremor through Alice's body. She gasped.
"I'm in love," Alice declared, putting her palms on the dash, feeling the vibration up into her chest. "What's the biggest creature feature you've ever killed with this baby?"
"Zombie. Bear."
Alice rested her head on the dashboard, grinning up at Claire. "If I were a guy, I'd be so hard right now."
"And since you're a girl?"
Alice just smiled some more.
"Wanna see my favorite part?"
"Depends." Alice daintily pulled her shoulder strap back from where it had fallen loose. "What's your favorite part?"
Claire reached back and opened up the back-window, crawling out and not caring that Alice got a 3D screening of her ass. Not caring so hard it was almost on purpose.
In the flatbed, she opened up the toolbox, pulled out the first layer of supplies and then started pulling out creature comforts. There was an electric blanket, a down comforter, satin sheets, even some scented candles. When Claire was done unwinding them, the flatbed had been transformed into a queen-sized bed.
"It's not a warm bed," Claire said, lighting the candles and putting them on top of the cab. "But it's the next best thing. Hand me the radio."
Alice picked up the CB microphone from where it'd been stuffed in the glove compartment and passed it up to Claire, who thumbed the transmit button and said "Lyle, stop playing that rap crap and put on something I can dance to."
Their own personal pirate radio station – before the apocalypse, one of the nuttier ham radio enthusiasts had bought an old fire truck and converted the ladder into a radio antenna. Whenever they stopped, he ran the antenna up and started broadcasting calls for help, advertisements for sanctuary. After four months with no contact, he'd started playing DJ. It was the same message. We're still alive.
Alice turned up the radio and over the speakers, echoed by every radio in the camp, Britney Spears started crooning her way through Toxic.
Claire laid back on the comforter-turned-mattress, letting her body wind down from alert mode for the night. "Kids these days."
"You wanna dance?" Alice asked from inside the truck.
Claire kicked off her boots and flicked at Alice's hair with her toes. "No."
Alice brushed Claire's foot away, but kept hold of it, digging her thumb into her calf in a manner that maybe wasn't supposed to feel as good as it did. After a moment of wordless communication, she pulled herself out of the cab, landing on all fours and staying there. Her hands pressed into the thick bedding.
"Rank hath its privileges,.
Claire spread her legs until her feet were touching the sides of the flatbed. "Yeah, I get first pick of all the virgins."
Alice crawled over her, hands brushing against Claire's body as they landed on either side of her. "Afraid I don't qualify."
"Baby, I'll make you feel like one."
"Madonna-style?"
"Oh yeah."
Alice pressed down hard on Claire's chest, not her breasts, her clavicle, bone on bone. The truck groaned a little on its shocks. Alice had power. Claire liked that about her. After a moment of waiting expectantly under her hands, Alice reared up onto her knees and ran her hands over Claire's fatigues, feeling the frayed thread, the outlines of ammo clips in her many pockets. The few moments when Alice's fingers hit upon a spot with no layers, making them nearly skin against skin, electrified Claire.
Her hands met at Claire's belt, snapping it open, the heavy pouches and holstered sidearm thudding nosily against the flatbed even through the comforter. Claire held still, liking the confidence with which Alice ruthlessly dismantled the clothes she slept in, lived in, ate in. The last time she'd had them off was days ago, when there hadn't been undead for two hundred klicks and they'd had time to rig up a shower. Since then, and before then, it felt like they'd been caked on. Alice didn't mind the musk of sweat and old adrenaline. She brought the zipper down in one elegant tease and held Claire's jacket to either side as she struggled out of it, her aviator sunglasses slipping from her lapels as she did, tumbling to the side of the flatbed. That little tink was the loudest noise there.
Claire felt Alice's eyes on her, as heavy and as physical as her hands had been, tracing the outline of her bra through her tanktop. She tugged down the shoulder straps, one by one, and then shimmied the top down to Claire's waist. Her bra came next, spread out to either side just like her belt. Claire didn't even feel the cold.
"Take off your pants," Alice said, her tone brooking no disagreement, as she raised up again to shrug off her duster, her vest, the many little ingredients that somehow added up to the ideal survivalist suit. Just as soon as her bra was off, her nipples hardened in the cold. She covered them with her arms, far too soon for Claire's liking. "Chilly out."
The message was clear. Claire pulled off her suspenders and jammed her fatigues down around her ankles, kicking them off along with her tanktop and boy-cut panties. Alice smiled approvingly and continued undressing, first unstrapping her thigh holsters, then unbuckling her stockings from her khaki shorts. She took off both shorts and panties in one go, leaving her in nothing but stockings and boots and the scarf still absurdly wrapped around her neck.
"That's all I get?" Claire asked.
"I've been walking through the desert for three days," Alice said. "You don't want my boots off."
"And the scarf?"
"It's lucky."
"And the stockings?"
"You really want 'em off?"
"Yeah, I do." Claire sat up and worked her fingers under the tops of them. "You mind?"
This close, she could smell Alice's arousal. "Fuck no."
The stockings ripped like a bandage coming off, Alice gnashing her teeth together and moaning briefly as it happened. Claire couldn't help herself. She threw her face between Alice's legs, running her hands over those thighs, making Alice use all her mouth to shape a moan when teeth hit her clit.
"Shaved legs," Claire observed, enjoying turning the tables on Alice, teasing her right back. Her fingers massaged the spot behind Alice's knee, an obvious erogenous zone. "You're such a girl."
"And you're not one for foreplay," Alice shot back. "Such a dude."
"It's the apocalypse. You have time?"
"No," Alice conceded, palming her hand to the top of Claire's baseball cap and forcing her head between her legs.
Fuck, Claire had missed this. Twenty-two women on the convoy and they collectively added up to about a .3 on the Kinsey Scale. As vulgar as it sounded, even in her own head, she'd missed pussy. She'd missed taking a new woman home and finding out all the little workings of her body, like she was back in college, devouring a book and turning it into knowledge, a neat little essay. Every pleasure point catalogued, every sigh and moan and mumbled obscenity cited. More than booze or weed or pile-driving into a herd of zombies at 80 MPH, it let her forget how fucked they were and feel like the world hadn’t ended.
"Fuck, oh fuck," Alice huffed. Her legs were trying to bolt from under her. She drifted back, steadying herself on the cab. The way Claire was eating pussy was like a school of piranha stripped a cow to the bone – frenzied, overwhelming, and fucking effective. "Been a while, huh?"
"Hasn't for you?" Claire returned, giving her tongue a rest to let her fingers play. She loved the feel of Alice around her digits, so tight and warm and moist. "When was the last time someone else did this for you?" She curled her fingers and Alice clenched on them, so hard it almost hurt. Biting her lip, Claire defiantly added another finger. Alice couldn't take it. Her hip wagging hard in symphony, she came hard enough to fill Claire's hand with her juices. It had taken less than a minute. "That long, huh? My turn." Very pleased with herself, Claire lolled back onto the mattress, sucking her fingers into her mouth and letting them out with an audible pop.
Alice was still laid out over the cab, nearly bent over backwards, breasts straining as her lungs tried to get air to all of her body. Her inner thighs shimmered from Claire's effort. "Shit. You bitch. No fair," she muttered.
Claire finished licking off her palm and now wiped her saliva off on her chest, painting a slick trail between her breasts. "It's not my fault if you can't keep up. Come on. Return the favor. Or are you a tease?"
Alice righted herself, her breath visible in the cool air. "Oh, you're asking for it."
"Yeah. I am."
Alice's glare broke. She smiled coquettishly and hugged herself, rubbing her arms to restore the circulation. "It's cold out."
"It's the desert."
Alice modestly crossed her legs, boots scraping against each other, tatters of her stockings blowing in the breeze. "What if someone sees us?"
Claire could still smell her, rich and decadent, like the inside of a chocolate shop. "I think they've figured out to leave me alone unless it's an emergency."
"And what if there's an emergency?" Alice protested, now shifting her hips so her dark pubic hair flashed in and out of view.
Claire couldn't help herself from following it. "Then I will personally rip its head off, come back here, and fuck you with the biggest phallic object I can find."
"Sweet-talker, eh?"
Claire couldn't take it anymore. She reached up and pulled Alice down, on top of her, kissing her with a needy whimper as she rolled her onto her back. Alice hissed like she was having another orgasm as Claire bit down on her neck.
"Give me one and I'll give you another," Claire promised, after a breath of hot vapor in her ear. "I'll make it last this time, not let you off the hook for a long time. Even if you beg me."
"Sweet-talker," Alice said again, flipping Claire onto her back. She gathered up the sheets and covered them both, cutting off the night. In the sudden straitjacket of the blanket, Alice's heat was shocking.
"I'm gonna fuck you so hard," Alice said, reaching down with callused fingers until she was spreading Claire open, teasing her clit with one short fingernail. Claire nearly choked on air. "You're not going to be able to do me back when I'm done. You won't even be able to walk."
"Promises, promises."
Alice skewered Claire with her middle finger, biting off any further smart-mouthing with a sharp gasp. She drew her hand back and rammed Claire again, deep and hard, another gasp, and another and another, no matter how many times Claire felt it. She finally closed her panting mouth and locked her jaw shut, refusing to let Alice hear what it was she was doing to her.
Alice smiled challengingly. Her other hand snaked over Claire's hip and down to her ass, fingernails biting into her flesh, biceps solidifying as she actually lifted Claire a little, making the angle of her thrusting finger even more intense. Claire gritted her teeth together as Alice's hand groped her firm, round cheek.
"I knew how you'd like it the second I saw you," Alice drawled, her voice entirely even, amused if anything. "You like being put in your place, don't you bad girl?" Her nails raked over Claire's ass, drawing scarlet lines that sizzled anew when her skin dropped against the comforter. "You like it to hurt a little. So does it hurt? A little?"
Claire's arms and legs lashed out in all directions, searching for relief, something to hang onto. The featureless interior of the flatbed offered no relief. She nearly crushed her aviators before tossing them aside. Finally, she grabbed hold of her gunbelt and brought it over her head, grabbing either end and trying to pull it apart with all her might. It was nearly distraction enough from Alice adding a second finger.
"Oh fuck!" Claire breathed, before actually gagging herself with the belt, holding it over her mouth like duct tape.
Above her, Alice licked her lips. "You know what's adorable? You, trying to hold back, thinking if you don't, your little flock won't respect you in the morning. Honey, they're going to know anyway, because you won't be walking straight. So you might as well scream my name as I make you come."
She jerked her fingers out then, and Claire could've screamed in protest, only Alice slapped her hands down on Claire's shoulders – she could feel the heat and dripping wetness of the fingers that had been inside her, right on the curve of her neck – and brought her hips around so they were touching there.
Claire was breathless, speechless, coming. But Alice didn’t let her off the hook. She bucked against Claire, thrusting against her like a man, rubbing their pussies together and together like flints. There was too much of her, her lips locking against Claire's, her breasts rubbing against Claire's, her scarf scratching against Claire's chest, her pussy… oh, fuck, her pussy. It was like she was an open flame and Claire was a gallon of kerosene.
"Say my name," Alice said calmly, nearly inaudible under the din of Claire's pitched breathing. She slowed the pace but increased the force, bruising Claire's ass all the way through the comforter and into the flatbed. Her voice raised too. "Say my name!"
Claire was too far gone to protest, but getting the words out was another matter. Her nipples were even tighter than they'd been in the cold, even though the heat around her had reached feverish intensity. Her mouth was dry, as were her lips. She had the certain feeling that if she opened her mouth, even for an instance, everything she was feeling would tumble out. She was going to come, she could feel it in her thumping heart, her burning breasts, all the way down to her toes.
"You can come like this," Alice was saying. "You can come right now."
It felt like she was already. It felt like Alice wouldn't let her stop coming, the pleasure uninterrupted, hurting in its intensity. She needed relief. She needed the afterglow, the pillow talk, the sweet oblivion of going to sleep in another's arms. She had missed that almost more than the sex itself.
She forced herself to speak. "Alice… oh, Alice. You're fucking me."
Alice's laugh came from deep in her belly. "That's right, Claire. That's absolutely right."
Somehow, Alice went faster than she ever had before, so fast the truck squeaked on its rocking wheels and Claire felt her clit being struck so many times by Alice's pelvic bone, that it was like she was being chiseled away at by some indefatigable machine. And soon, there was nothing of her left, just Alice's pleasure, spreading through both of them.
"Yessss," Alice let out like a puff of cigarette smoke, sounding more fucked out than she had been after Claire had made her come. She rocked against Claire a few more times, dragging her clit through the thatch of Claire's pubic hair, but they were both done.
Claire sobbed in air as her heartrate plunged back to normal. When she'd finally gotten herself back under control, gotten her eyes to their normal Eastwood slant and her jaw steam-shovel hard again, Alice rolled off her. Dimly, Claire felt her belt drop from her limp hands.
"I fucked you," Alice whispered in Claire's ear, pleased as punch. She picked up Claire's hand and licked first one finger, then two, and finally took three into her mouth, soaking them with spit before bringing it down to the junction of her thighs…
"No more," Claire pleaded. "Any more of that and the only way I'll be walking is as one of those things."
"That sounds like a rain check," Alice hinted.
"I owe you one orgasm," Claire said, writing it out on Alice's back with her finger. Alice giggled and reached for her clothes. "Hey." Alice paused. "You even have a bed?"
"I have an army blanket in my back."
"And you have this." Claire fluffed up her pillow and offered up the right side of it to Alice, scrunching herself onto the opposite side.
"Inviting me to your slumber party?" Alice asked.
"Maybe I just want some morning-after sex."
"Oh, you definitely want morning-after sex." Alice crashed back down next to Claire. She took her scarf off and wrapped it around her forearm, adding it to the pillow.
For a moment, they laid there, just staring at each other. The song had long since ended, and now the radio played their old distress message, broadcasting their coordinates, calling for other survivors, asking for sanctuary.
Claire moved closer, putting her arms around Alice. Alice was taller than her, but she was slender and hadn't had a decent meal in who knew how long. She could feel the bones under that lovely, porcelain, scarred, burned skin. "I'm tired," Claire said. "No more talking."
Alice agreed, tucking her head under Claire's chin and letting herself be held. Claire didn't know how much she'd needed the fuck, but she'd definitely needed this, a touch, a soft voice, a moment to let her guard down.
Forty-one people in the convoy, forty-one people she had to protect. There was room for one more.
***
Claire woke up hazily, feeling exhausted, like Alice had been closer to five minutes ago than five months. Someone was standing over her bed, leaning against the wall, arms crossed and head down. Claire looked at her.
"Alice?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.
"No. Hotter." Jill Valentine. She straightened the white scrubs she'd been given after her own clothes were destroyed. "You're awake."
"Good call."
"I wanted to talk to you," she said. "Apologize for earlier. I hate to give a beatdown someone hasn't earned."
"It's fine," Claire said. "I know what it's like to be fitted with one of those things. Where's Alice?"
"I'll go get her. You got beef?"
"Something like that," Claire said. "Catch you later."
"Count on it," Jill said, moving for the door. "I'll be wearing something nicer then."
Claire sagged back to her pillow, wondering if some sort of point had been made.
***
Alice was there a few minutes later, her bloody clothes cleaned and sewn up. With a hot bath and a good night's sleep behind her, she made them look like designer fashion. One look at Claire and she said "You remember."
"Yeah," Claire said. "I was kind of a skank, wasn't I?"
Alice grinned. "Armageddon isn't exactly the best time for long courtships." She took up her old position at the foot of Claire's bed, this time with an added twist. Her hand on Claire's knee, gently squeezing. "Do you remember what you said to me before Arcadia?"
Claire shook her head. "I can't remember my middle name."
Alice squeezed a little harder. "'You still owe me a fuck.'"
Claire found herself finishing the exchange on autopilot. "'Come to Alaska, I'll fuck the highlights out of your hair.'"
"That offer still stand?"
"Depends. Are you a natural blonde?"
It didn't take long to figure out why Alice had given her a private room.
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