Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/323000.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F
  Fandom:
      Revenge_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Amanda_Clarke/Emily_Thorne
  Character:
      Amanda_Clarke, Emily_Thorne, Nolan_Ross
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-01-19 Words: 892
****** A Puppy and a Blowtorch ******
by Mosca
Summary
     Even Emily's household errands hold an ulterior motive.
Notes
     No animals are harmed in this fic. Spoilers through "Infamy."
     Amy egged me on and then beta read.
"Home Depot? Don't rich people hire people to install window treatments?"
Amanda was driving. They were pulling into the parking lot. It had taken her
this long to think of that. Emily had that effect on people.
"Not when the window treatments involve CIA-grade surveillance equipment and
you don't want a paper trail," Emily said with a venom-sweet smile.
Emily filled their cart with miniblind kits and a power drill. Amanda wandered
off. "Hey, look, blowtorches!" she shouted down the aisle, so several other
shoppers turned and stared.
"No." Emily didn't look up from her shopping list.
Amanda took Emily's negligence as an excuse to drop the blowtorch into the
cart. It was just a small one. Maybe Emily wouldn't notice.
Emily side-eyed Amanda at the register but let the blowtorch pass. Maybe she
had plans for it. Setting things on fire and making it look like a tragic
accident: Emily had pulled that one before, but Amanda was sure she could find
a reason to do it again. It was such a classic.
There was a Petco next to the Home Depot, and it had a big "Adoption Day!"
banner hanging above the door. After they'd put their miniblinds in the trunk,
Emily strolled over, and Amanda followed her. "I'm just looking," Emily said,
more to herself than to Amanda.
But there was a brown-and-white spaniel mix, and Emily loved dogs almost as
much as she hated humans. They drove back to Montauk with window treatments, a
small blowtorch, and a new puppy.
When they got back to Emily's house, they fed the dog, set the miniblinds in a
pile by the bedroom windows for later, and assembled the blowtorch. They didn't
have any propane, so all they could do with it was take turns aiming it at the
ocean. "I'm pretty sure this is some kind of penis envy thing," Amanda said.
"You've spent too many years in therapy," Emily replied.
"Tell me it doesn't make you hot."
"Oh, it does," Emily said in her unnervingly soft and even way. "But not
because I want a cock."
Amanda came up behind Emily and put her hands on Emily's hips. Emily swayed
backwards into her. It had been a long time since they'd danced this dance.
First kisses in juvie, pudding-cup-and-tequila make-out sessions, pretending to
dream of boys. Amanda brushed Emily's hair forward and pressed her lips softly
to Emily's neck. She trailed a hand up Emily's stomach to cup her breast,
taking Emily's tank top with her, baring Emily's belly to the sea wind.
Emily stepped out of Amanda's arms to set the blowtorch down on a chair and to
close the curtains. She came back kicking off her shoes and taking off her
jeans. "What about Jack?"
"Anything you and I do is only practice," Amanda said. "For the real thing,
someday, when we get out of here." With a stripper's practiced wink and sway,
Amanda peeled off her top and shimmied out of her shorts, leaving her high
heels on.
Amanda remembered Emily's body differently, like a house she'd lived in as a
child. Emily'd gained a fullness to her breasts and tone to her ass, and money
could buy a girl a perfect, smooth Brazilian. But some things stayed the same.
They'd had to take a health class in juvie, Your Changing Body, Sit on the bed
with a mirror and look between your legs. Can you identify all the different
parts? They'd identified them for each other and aced that quiz.
It was one of the few school assignments that had stuck with Amanda. She knew
just where to find Emily's round, hooded clit, deep between her labia, right
for a girl full of secrets. Emily sighed at Amanda's touch, her body making
soft waves. Amanda knew she'd come because she went quiet, completely peaceful.
Emily rolled Amanda over, decisively and not forcefully. This Emily, the one on
top, was a stranger. She bit Amanda's breast as if the goal was to mark her - a
little conversation starter with Jack, unless Amanda kept her bra on tonight.
Emily seemed to remember high school anatomy, too, remembered how to stroke
Amanda's clit with her tongue just hard enough to make Amanda writhe and beg,
but just short of letting her come, completely in control until Amanda's
parting scream.
Amanda lay on the bed, naked and sweating. The puppy whined in the doorway.
"I'd better take her out," Emily said. Alone, Amanda put her clothes on and
walked up the beach to the Stowaway, carrying her shoes.
In the evening, Emily dropped by the Stowaway with the puppy. "I wanted to
introduce him to Jack," she said. "I think I'm naming him Bart. Doesn't he look
like a Bart?"
While Jack and Emily went puppy-blind, Nolan grabbed Amanda roughly by the arm
and took her out behind the bar. "Can you do me one favor and not have sex with
her anymore?"
Amanda shrugged, her best imitation of Emily. "Stuff happens in juvie."
Nolan still had her by the arm. "Stuff happens this afternoon, and then I come
home to surveillance footage of amateur porn."
"Oh." Dumb girl face. "Sorry."
"You're a loose cannon. She's a loose cannon. Together? Boom."
"Just add propane," Amanda said, already sashaying away, her mind wandering to
where she could start a fire.
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