Work Text:
“They have it under control,” Phoenix says, “Promise. You did good. Partner.”
Pearl isn’t so sure she believes her. She shifts her weight as her head starts to clear – oxygen filling her lungs again – and the fire escape creaks beneath her (no, the irony isn’t lost on her).
Between heaving breaths, Pearl manages: “I think… we were clear… several blocks ago.”
Phoenix laughs. “We ran a mile and you’re like this? How many times have I told you that you can’t just lift weights?”
“Strong body, strong mind, Phoenix,” Pearl says. She doesn’t feel very strong right now, the world spinning beneath her through corroded metal slats.
“I think your mind’s plenty strong. You lifted that car like it was nothing.”
It’s half between flirting and sincerity. She did. She saved those people. It’s not enough. It got out of control, and that’s not what heroes do. They sit in the quiet for a moment before Pearl has the strength to fully stand up. When she does, she takes in the carnage in the distance.
“Why’d we go this far?” she asks.
Smoke fills the sky, a thick plume distinctly rising in-between the skyscrapers in the distance; the city coated in a grey haze. It was only a few minutes ago that the evening sky burned an unnatural red. Now, Phoenix shines in what’s left of the sun as it sets, the scaled red and copper fabric of her mask shifting colors and glimmering against her green eyes, her hair almost as bright and orange as the fire once was. Smiling back at her.
“Because I wanted to do this.”
She takes Pearl’s wrist, pulling her in casually, leaning in slow. She cups Pearl’s chin over the crimson cloth of her mask; closes her eyes and tugs it down past her chin. Their lips are almost touching when Phoenix asks, cheeky as ever – “Are you ever gonna let me see you?”
Pearl matches her energy – “Are you ever gonna realize fire is not the answer to everything?”
Phoenix shakes her head. “Not even if the tabloids say it a million times.”
“Is that why we kept going?” Pearl asks, pulling back slightly.
“They can’t know,” Phoenix says, softly, as she intertwines their fingers, still managing a half-smile even as her words take a turn. “They’ll use us against each other. You’ve seen it happen.”
They’ve done this dance before – never this explicitly. It’s never on Phoenix’s mind. Pearl’s pulled her into dark alleys and abandoned buildings after a fight, away from prying eyes and ears, and Phoenix followed. She thinks back to the first time they kissed, bandaging each other’s wounds, when Phoenix leaned in close and tugged at her mask, and Pearl lifted a hand to her eyes before she let her.
She doesn’t want to be a secret, but nothing good comes from relationships. Hero, or villain. She’s been on the other end of it before. It’s a combat advantage – biting words and empty threats, where a split second hesitation can make the difference between sleeping in a bed with the one you love, or alone in a windowless cell. Arguably, heroes get the worse end of the deal. There are no rules for the kinds of people they go up against. Their threats aren’t empty; they mean every word. If she ever put Phoenix in danger, she’d never forgive herself.
“That’s why you can’t see,” Pearl says. Convinces herself she believes it. It doesn’t stop her from wanting. She wants Phoenix to see her. She wants to kiss her and not worry who sees. It’s just not the life they’re meant for. Phoenix hates it – she knows Phoenix hates it, because she’s all but said it. Every look, every touch, she wears Pearl down just a little bit more.
Now, she speaks Pearl’s language. And that might hurt the most.
Phoenix’s face falls. Pearl tugs her mask back up over her nose, and traces her jawline, inching closer. “You can open them.”
She doesn’t. Her lips tug, pursing, thinking. She squeezes Pearl’s hand, silent, only the distant noise of sirens in the distance, and Phoenix’s cape billowing in the wind. With every second that passes, Pearl spirals deeper. They’re too good together to lose any part of whatever this is.
“Hey,” she says, gently. “I don’t care. I’ll wear this forever if it means you’ll have me. Even if I keep getting fined by the council for psionically busting fire hydrants.”
“I think I’m in love with you,” she says, eventually, words tumbling out of her mouth. It’s the last thing Pearl expects.
A deep breath, that ends in a sigh – “Phoenix…”
It’s not that she doesn’t feel the same. It’s the fact that she does, and wants nothing more than to say it back without consequence. Phoenix opens her eyes, squinting, the sun in her eyes.
“I just want to hear you say my name. Once.”
Deep down, Pearl knows she can’t say no. She’s been doomed since the second they first locked eyes, bright green engulfed in flames.
Her eyes well up, but no tears fall. “Once, and you can forget.”
Still, Pearl nods, almost imperceptibly, and regrets it almost immediately. She will never be able to forget, and they both know this. It’ll ruin them.
Phoenix smiles into a sigh; relief.
“Gem,” she whispers, like it’s not life-changing.
Pearl’s voice is rough, her throat tight. “Love you, Gem.”
It’s stifling, how right it feels.
“Okay,” Gem mumbles, sheepishly, hiding the smile and blush blooming on her face in Pearl’s shoulder.
“Okay? That’s all you’ve got?” Pearl laughs, soft and low. She can feel the heat rise in her cheeks and she’s glad Gem can’t see.
“Can we just sit here? For a little while, before…”
She doesn’t finish. Best to leave it unspoken, now that neither of them know what comes next. For a little while, Pearl can pretend nothing’s changed. She presses a gentle kiss to her forehead through the satin of her mask; a compromise. Even if.