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Short fiction bit
Jul. 8th, 2006 06:12 amIt was hard on both of them (but especially him), when she developed super powers; all of a sudden she had no time, too much fame, and he hated the danger she was putting herself in. It was hard on him too, to be weaker than her. (And precognition, of all powers, is /particularly/ annoying in a girlfriend. "I forgot the milk," he'd say, and she'd shrug and say she already ran out to pick some up. And sometimes he was sure she was keeping secrets from him - even about him. He asked, once in a black mood, "Have you seen my death?" and she gave him the oddest smile and shook her head no.) It was hard on her, too, trying to keep up a romance and save the world at the same time. And villains make things even harder.
So here they are in a warehouse; her archnemesis has him captive, and has given her an ultimatum; she serves evil, or he dies.
But all she says is, "My code of ethics requires me to warn you that if you harm him, you will die."
"You would trade his life, then?" the villain demands. "Fine." A gun cracks. He crumples to the floor as the villain says, "You will find that I am prepared for your attempts on my life. I will, however, enjoy your misery."
And she kneels beside him, pain in her eyes; her hand covers the wound, as if trying to erase it. She looks up at the villain, the sorrow fading into pity. "I didn't say that /I/ would kill you." She pauses, turning her face down to his still form. "You should have expected," she comments to the villain, though her focus is elsewhere, "that I've known what happens next for years." With no more attention for her doomed enemy, she bends down, plants a kiss on his warm lips, and waits for him to realize he's not dead after all.
It's much easier for them both after.
So here they are in a warehouse; her archnemesis has him captive, and has given her an ultimatum; she serves evil, or he dies.
But all she says is, "My code of ethics requires me to warn you that if you harm him, you will die."
"You would trade his life, then?" the villain demands. "Fine." A gun cracks. He crumples to the floor as the villain says, "You will find that I am prepared for your attempts on my life. I will, however, enjoy your misery."
And she kneels beside him, pain in her eyes; her hand covers the wound, as if trying to erase it. She looks up at the villain, the sorrow fading into pity. "I didn't say that /I/ would kill you." She pauses, turning her face down to his still form. "You should have expected," she comments to the villain, though her focus is elsewhere, "that I've known what happens next for years." With no more attention for her doomed enemy, she bends down, plants a kiss on his warm lips, and waits for him to realize he's not dead after all.
It's much easier for them both after.
