For Lycodrake.
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As far as driving went, Saber didn’t trust Iri as far as she could throw her.
Oh, certainly, the former Einzbern was a good driver in her own right; of that, the blonde had no doubt. No one could drive the way Iri did, swerving around curves and wildly turning the steering wheel, always somehow avoiding sliding off the side of the road, without having some skill.
But that was a car.
This was a motorcycle.
And really, Saber couldn’t throw Iri all that far to begin with.
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“You really are no fun, Saber.”
The green-eyed woman made a pointed attempt to ignore her girlfriend as she finished the last checking of her beloved motorcycle, a task made just a little bit harder when Iri absently draped herself over the seat and began to play with her ponytail. “Iri,” she said patiently, “if you keep it up, I won’t be able to concentrate.”
The grin the other woman gave her was just a little bit wicked. “I like it when you don’t concentrate.”
Saber sighed and checked her bike one last time, making sure it wouldn’t fall apart; Iri pouted, gently wrapping strands of golden hair around her fingers and giving a light tug, making the shorter woman grunt in protest.
“Iri.”
The pout became an innocent smile, and Saber’s glare didn’t have half as much heat to it as it usually did under other circumstances. She sighed, gave the bike one last pat, and finally straightened up. “I already told you why—“
“I’m good at driving cars, not so good with driving motorcycles,” Iri replied, cutting her girlfriend off. It was a familiar line. “You should still let me try, at least.”
“The bike is new,” Saber shot back as she slid on her jacket, tossing a second one to Iri. “And I do think you’d like to visit Ilya in one piece, yes? Kiritsugu would not be pleased if I brought you home in a body bag.” The relationship between them was strained enough as it was; the only thing that kept them together in the first place was Iri herself.
She just had that kind of effect on them.
“Kiritsugu has told you horror stories about my first time driving around the courtyard, hasn’t he?”
Saber tried her hardest to suppress a wince, and didn’t quite succeed. “Maybe.”
Iri scowled now, brushing white strands of hair out of her eyes. “I’ll get him later,” she muttered.
Not in front of a crowd, the former Servant hoped. Iri had gotten much better over the years at restraining herself in public when it came to her two lovers—mostly. She still was very open and affectionate from time to time, and her idea of getting back at someone usually involved being a teasing flirt.
She used to be so innocent, she mused, and finally straightened up, dusting off her pants. “How about this?” she offered, wanting to appease her princess in some way. “When Kiritsugu is out and the kids are at school, I can teach you how to drive it. Would that work?”
No sooner did she say it, then she saw the gleam of delight come into Iri’s red eyes; the next instant, the former Holy Grail somehow flung herself over the motorcycle—Saber never saw quite how she managed it—and the next thing the blonde knew she was being kissed, hard and hot and hungry, and her girlfriend’s fingers were tangling in her hair, undoing her ponytail, and for a brief moment Saber allowed herself to be lost in the surge of warmth and need she always felt when she kissed Iri like this.
After a moment that lasted forever and ended too soon, Iri pulled back. Dazed, Saber slowly opened her eyes—when had she even closed them?—and blinked, trying to realign her center of gravity. Her ribbon twirled easily between Iri’s fingers.
They were still only inches apart, and it made her head swim.
“It’s a short drive,” Iri murmured breathlessly, pressing a light, chaste kiss to the corner of Saber’s mouth. “Why don’t I start practice now by driving home?”
“Urgghl,” Saber said elegantly.
“I’ll take that as a yes!”
Iri shot back to the motorcycle, grabbing the key and revving it up; Saber blinked again, felt her mind reconnect its important circuits, and groaned, rubbing her eyes.
“You seem rather whipped, my friend,” a voice breathed by her ear; recognizing the deep tone, Saber scowled and slapped him away, even as his great body rumbled with laughter and he slapped her heartily on the back.
“Oh, shut up, Iskander.”
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I'm pretty sure there's a motorcycle in there. Somewhere.