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neotoma . One of the more interesting prompts I've gotten, and I apologise in advance for what I've gone and done with it -_-;
Title: Taunting the Tiger
Rating: PG-13
Fandoms: SPN, Hindu Myth
Characters/Pairings: Gabriel, Kali, mention of Isis. Gabriel/Kali
Summary: A game of croquet
Wordcount: 313
Warnings: Crack!
Disclaimer: Not mine
neotoma . One of the more interesting prompts I've gotten, and I apologise in advance for what I've gone and done with it -_-;Title: Taunting the Tiger
Rating: PG-13
Fandoms: SPN, Hindu Myth
Characters/Pairings: Gabriel, Kali, mention of Isis. Gabriel/Kali
Summary: A game of croquet
Wordcount: 313
Warnings: Crack!
Disclaimer: Not mine
Taunting the Tiger
Theoretically, Isis had introduced them to the game, which was apparently quite popular in Egypt. Equally theoretically, given croquet's status as a 'British' game, and given Britain's level of popularity in India at the given time, Kali may or may not have reacted ... somewhat violently. Theoretically, the idea may have been shelved thereafter, at least in her presence.
Theoretically, what happened after was all Walt Disney's fault. Theoretically. Could Gabriel really be blamed, having seen Carroll's absurdity brought so wonderfully to life? Could he really, really be blamed for taunting the tiger, that beautiful, gorgeous, terrifying tiger, when so fabulously warped an idea was presented to him, all of a piece? Really?
But Kali had taken it ... not as he'd expected. Kali, his wonder, his beauty, his utterly fearsome darling. No flash-fire of rage, no mad, beautiful violence. She had smiled at him, the flamingo in her hand suddenly looking less absurd, and more worryingly like a weapon, the hedgehog beside it suddenly a missile ready to throw. And she smiled, a red curve of lips under darkling eyes, and laughed softly at him.
"And does this make me the Queen of Hearts?" she purred, flowing forward to rest a sharp little nail against his throat, and draw it gently across. "Should I ask for your head, my little Alice?"
That he hadn't given the first two answers that sprang to mind, Gabriel considered a truly herculean feat. Instead, he'd dipped his head to catch her finger to his lips, and said as grandly as he dared: "You're the queen of my heart, at least."
She had laughed at him, the temper in her eyes something soft and black and ancient, and kissed him softly for his absurdity, and the daring to taunt such a tiger as she. She kissed him, and he counted it not a small reward, and reason enough to risk another game.
Theoretically, Isis had introduced them to the game, which was apparently quite popular in Egypt. Equally theoretically, given croquet's status as a 'British' game, and given Britain's level of popularity in India at the given time, Kali may or may not have reacted ... somewhat violently. Theoretically, the idea may have been shelved thereafter, at least in her presence.
Theoretically, what happened after was all Walt Disney's fault. Theoretically. Could Gabriel really be blamed, having seen Carroll's absurdity brought so wonderfully to life? Could he really, really be blamed for taunting the tiger, that beautiful, gorgeous, terrifying tiger, when so fabulously warped an idea was presented to him, all of a piece? Really?
But Kali had taken it ... not as he'd expected. Kali, his wonder, his beauty, his utterly fearsome darling. No flash-fire of rage, no mad, beautiful violence. She had smiled at him, the flamingo in her hand suddenly looking less absurd, and more worryingly like a weapon, the hedgehog beside it suddenly a missile ready to throw. And she smiled, a red curve of lips under darkling eyes, and laughed softly at him.
"And does this make me the Queen of Hearts?" she purred, flowing forward to rest a sharp little nail against his throat, and draw it gently across. "Should I ask for your head, my little Alice?"
That he hadn't given the first two answers that sprang to mind, Gabriel considered a truly herculean feat. Instead, he'd dipped his head to catch her finger to his lips, and said as grandly as he dared: "You're the queen of my heart, at least."
She had laughed at him, the temper in her eyes something soft and black and ancient, and kissed him softly for his absurdity, and the daring to taunt such a tiger as she. She kissed him, and he counted it not a small reward, and reason enough to risk another game.
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