That Smile: A Claymore Quickie

Disclaimer: I do not own Claymore, and have no rights to the material or characters. This is a work of fan fiction, and is written purely for enjoyment and not for profit.

"Raki," Clare intoned in her monotone, emotionless voice. "I am your lover."

"No!" cried Raki, straining against Clare's grip. "Oh, wait, that doesn't sound so bad. Why exactly am I trying to get away again?"

"Dammit, Raki!" spat Clare, fisting the man's shirt and lifting him onto his tiptoes. "You're ruining my script! Again!"

"Er..." Raki stuttered, running a hand through his hair and looking abashed. "I'm sorry?"

Pulling his face close, Clare stared Raki in the eyes for a long moment before suddenly pecking him on the lips.

"Forgiven."

Caught by surprise, Raki screamed as Clare hefted him by the shirt and threw him bodily onto their bed. His screaming was cut short as he landed on his back, momentarily losing his breath. With a burst of speed, Clare quickly climbed onto the bed and straddled her young lover.

"Are..." Raki managed to get out, stuttering, "are we still playing?"

"No," Clare answered. "No more playing. Now you get to make it up to me."

Later, sweaty, catching their breaths, Raki remembered the earlier scenario.

"So, what was that all about?" he asked as he stroked his hand up and down her back.

"I don't remember," she said, purring like a cat.

"You and your role-playing," Raki responded, his smile affectionate.

"Well, you're the one who wanted to see my 'prostitute's smile...'"

"I just wanted to see you smile."

"So all this..." she gestured at the two of them.

"...is to get you relaxed. Relaxed enough to smile."

Clare felt her face begin to twitch. First one cheek, and then the other, and then suddenly she was looking down at Raki, her eyes beginning to swim, her teeth bared and both sides of her face quirking in a way she had almost forgotten. Something she hadn't done while awake in a very long time.

"Yes," said Raki. "That smile."