tai chi t shirts

wristwatch6minslow  asked:

i don't know much about st:ng, but 10. tasha and troi

“I have intense respect for you, both professionally and personally,” Deanna says quite abruptly. “I find myself with no desire to complain about the care with which you treat your body; in fact, I greatly appreciate your meticulous maintenance of your muscle tone. However–” Dee breathes out forcefully, her grip on Tasha’s ankles spasming. “Darling, I am bored.”

Tasha snorts as she completes her ninetieth sit up, shooting Dee a fond glance. “Told you.”

Deanna had run through her own fitness routine during the first forty-five minutes of Tasha’s and then settled in to watch, something fiery and appreciative in her gaze as she studied the movement of the muscles exposed by Tasha’s sports bra. Nonetheless, her imagination had only successfully kept her entertained for another fifteen minutes; she’s been fidgeting with increasing frequency in the ten minutes since, even once Tasha took pity and asked her to hold her ankles.

“Could always head out; I’ll meet back up with you later this afternoon.”

“I can’t leave you in here by yourself,” Dee mutters petulantly. “It isn’t safe to work out alone, with no one to contact Beverly if you injure yourself.”

Tasha snickers. “You were hoping to join me in the shower,” she accuses, pausing at the top of her arc.


She throws back her head with laughter, and Deanna makes a vague noise of annoyance. “Can you blame me?”

Tasha thinks about the glimpses she’d caught of Deanna in the mirror, bending and twisting her way through the movements of tai chi, her flowing t-shirt riding up over her hips to expose the curve of her legs through her yoga pants. “No,” she admits, and lowers herself back down. “But I’m still going to be a while, Dee.”

She refuses to acknowledge the Betazoid’s pout, pointedly switching from counting up internally to counting down verbally. “Fifty-six left, fifty-five, fifty-four–”

“I have an idea,” Dee interrupts, and Tasha sighs.

“I’m listening.”

“You’ll like this idea,” she promises, and there’s the rustle of fabric as she moves. Tasha feels her legs being bracketed by Deanna’s and has only a moment to wonder why before she’s reaching the top of her arc–and a suddenly quite close girlfriend.

Deanna’s lips are soft, their kiss exceedingly brief as Tasha lowers away once more. With a sparkle in her eyes, Dee declares, “Fifty-three left.”

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