Title: Politics of Betrayal
Author: Geekmomma
Pairing: Ginny/Pansy
Rating: PG-13 (really, only for mood)
A/N: This came out of nowhere, and is either all dialog, or none. You pick. Yes, I am still obsessed with Ginny/Pansy. Valeria was once again my lovely beta.
Part One: Pansy
If you think that my hands on your smooth skin
Mean anything other than preparation for your funeral,
If you think that my kisses
Are anything other than the politics of betrayal,
If you think the sweat from our bodies, intermingled
Is anything but a cover of myrrh over my own stench,
Then you would be mistaken, and I would be alive.
Part Two: Ginny
I shouldn't be here, I shouldn't do this, I shouldn't, I shouldn't, I shouldn't.
Words become meaningless after too many repetitions. Like trying too hard to remember how to spell something simple, and suddenly nothing looks right. Is there a silent letter? Is this the alternate spelling? Is this a cognate of some foreign language that I haven't learned yet? How will I know when it is correct? The wrong way looks wrong, but then, so does the right way.
Part Three: Pansy
I pursue you like a minnow, me the big fish with sharp teeth. I watch you like a hawk watches its prey. I stare at you, a snake mesmerizing its dinner. I am mad to puncture your skin with my small, dangerous teeth, and after you are trapped, swallow you whole. If I am the animal, than isn�t this the way it goes? Fish and Hawk and Snake need to eat. I need to eat, too.
Part Four: Ginny
You attract me like dark corners, like raveled up mysteries, like unopened packages. I look at you and see the other side of the coin, the alternate me, the person that could exist. I follow you because I need to know what could have been, what might yet be. I touch you because it is like touching the skin of the snake, cold and smooth and seductive.
Am I good for you? Will you change for me? Do I offer possibilities that you would otherwise only consider in dreams? Your focus on me is so powerful, you make me shiver. You are so directed in your pursuit, you make me tremble. You are so determined that you will mold me to you, that you don't see that you bend to reach me.
Part Five: Pansy
Shouldn't I want this? Shouldn't I need you? Shouldn't I feel elation at the small flicker of fear in your eye when I am near? I can see the slight differences as your pupils widen and your small shoulders hunch tighter, and you wring your hands just a little more than usual. Your eyes flicker to my face, and the tiniest of shudders ripple through your body as you look away. It makes me smile.
It makes me smile, and at the same time, I'm terrified. What if I can't catch you? What if, when my jaws snap and close, you have already gone, a quick flick of fin, a dash into the weeds, escaping me, too fast, too small for me to follow with my heavy, dangerous frame? What if you are already burrowing, creating back doors and side entrances and so many ways to escape that I will lose you every single time?
I can't bear to think about it. I will go hungry, I will starve, I will die. I can't bear to lose you, I can't bear it! I won't bear it.
Part Six: Ginny
I see the thing in you that is dangerous. I see the monster that you keep in there, in your heart and in your stomach. I see it try to crawl out and slip itself into my pocket, but I won't let it touch me. I may be small and frightened, but that doesn't mean that I am defenseless as well. I have my own armaments, my own pike and axe and blunderbuss; my instinct, my claws and my own tiny teeth are my weapons. I will use them to force that demon down, and keep it caged. I will let it out in bits and pieces, starve it until it is half mad, and then feed it scraps until that thing is eating out of my hand.
I may show you all the signs that I am afraid, but I am here, aren't I? I am willing, and I will not back down now that this fight has begun. You got this far, and don't you wonder why? I became the object of you attention through the cunning of my own little mind. You have something I need, a ferocity that I can harness for my own well being. Better the devil you know�
Part Seven: Pansy
You seem to think that I can protect you! What kind of world do you think this is, little one? I'll only run off the others so that I can have you first, and they can eat the offal. I get your eyes, and your lips, and your sweet hot blood, they get bone and nail and hair. I can make them run off scared, but I can't make them go away.
Part Eight: Ginny
But you do make them run, and you do it for me, whatever your internal reasoning. I see you watch me and prowl the corridors of me that are marked as your territory. You become the sun and moon and stars to me, when you become my protector. You become the end and the beginning, the light and the dark, the pure and the unholy. You become part of me, when you give yourself up for me.
Part Nine: Pansy
I see the gears clicking in your mind. I know that you believe yourself to have bested me. I see that you think I do this for you. It isn't true, little Ginny. It isn't true.
Part Ten: Ginny
What can I do to prove it to you? What will show you how far you have fallen into the trap of me? Can I make you laugh? Make you cry? Can I make you sigh with longing and regret? I can. I can do it, and you will laugh and cry and sigh in longing and regret.
Part Eleven: Pansy
What can you do, you with your small bony fingers and your fierce little will? What can you do?
Part Twelve: Ginny
I can die, or�
Part Thirteen: Ginny
If you thought that my hands on your smooth skin Meant anything other than preparation for your funeral, If you thought that my kisses Were anything other than the politics of betrayal, If you thought the sweat from our bodies, intermingled Was anything but a cover of myrrh over my own stench, Then you would have been mistaken, and you would still be alive.