FIC: Slow Burn
Title: Slow Burn
Fandom: X-Men comics (New Mutants)
Prompt: fanfic100 #52 -- Fire.
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~600
Characters: Mirage (Dani Moonstar), Warpath (James Proudstar); Mirage/Warpath
Continuity: Set after New Mutants v1 #54 and before Dani left for Asgard.
Summary: There was always something of a spark between them. They felt it but never acted on it. Theirs is the romance that never was. The story of Dani Moonstar and Jimmy Proudstar.
Disclaimer: Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of Marvel Characters, Inc. I do not own them and am simply borrowing for my purposes. Please don't sue.
Thank you quintessmiley for all the beta help!
Neither of them knew how it had come to this. One minute, they'd been standing together. Arguing, as it usually went when they were stuck with each other for too long. (It was probably her fault, too, though she'd never admit it.) And the next, he was too close and she smelled too good and things were about to get out of hand. They both knew that well enough.
Until she stepped away, crossing her arms tightly against her chest. After a few deep breaths, she spun around to face him again, careful to keep the distance between them this time. "You-- you--" she was already yelling again, pointing violently at the person standing before her. "I blame you!"
He looked at her with an incredulous expression. "Me?" he cried. "What did I do?"
Shaking her head, she tried to find the words. "Every time I get around you, it's like... you bring out the-the fire in me." She punched his shoulder none-too-lightly. (She knew he could handle the pain, being the brave Apache and all.) "So stop it, already!"
"That's not my fault!" he argued, looking down at her with a hard expression. "You're the one who's always repressing things." He leaned closer. "I think I've made my feelings perfectly clear."
Dani scowled at him for once more invading her personal space. But she didn't back away. Her pride wouldn't let her. "Yeah, well, I'm supposed to be a leader.
Jimmy glowered right back. "And just what do you think I'm supposed to be?"
"Hey," her hands were on her hips now, "it's not my fault you don't see any ethical dilemma in consorting with the enemy."
A snort escaped before he could stop it. "Consorting with the enemy?" he repeated, not bothering to hide the laughter in his voice. "Christ, Dani, we're just teenagers. Your teammates were at our school for a while. You act like we're the Devil's answer to the X-Men or something."
She quirked an eyebrow. "Well you do belong to the Hellfire Club."
It was right about then that Jimmy had had enough. "Oh, build a bridge and get the fuck over it already." Dani looked aghast. "You're always trying to push things on us and blame us for stuff, but y'know what, kid?" He smirked. "We aren't evil." She rolled her eyes and he grabbed her shoulders. "We aren't."
"I know," Dani admitted finally, stepping away from his grip. "But it's easier to paint things in black and white. It makes it easier to-- to keep things simple."
Jimmy frowned. "But things aren't black and white. And they aren't simple."
There was a small voice in the back of her mind that agreed with him but she squashed it. "Yeah, well... they need to be for me." She shook her head. "I have to believe. For my team." Dani met his gaze evenly. "For me."
"And for us?"
Dani threw her hands up in exasperation. "Gods, Jimmy, there is no us. There can't be." She sighed. This conversation was exhausting. "Don't you get it? No matter how much I want-- it just isn't... I won't let it."
Something inside of him wouldn't-- couldn't let it go. "But if we both want--"
"It doesn't matter," she said with forced calm. "We're too far away."
Jimmy had a feeling she wasn't talking about the distance between Snow Valley and Westchester. He could already feel it spreading between them. "And the fire?"
There was something sad in the way she looked at him just then. And he realized that, maybe-- beneath the determination-- she felt it, too. "It'll burn out eventually." And then she turned away. There was nothing left to be said.
Fandom: X-Men comics (New Mutants)
Prompt: fanfic100 #52 -- Fire.
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~600
Characters: Mirage (Dani Moonstar), Warpath (James Proudstar); Mirage/Warpath
Continuity: Set after New Mutants v1 #54 and before Dani left for Asgard.
Summary: There was always something of a spark between them. They felt it but never acted on it. Theirs is the romance that never was. The story of Dani Moonstar and Jimmy Proudstar.
Disclaimer: Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of Marvel Characters, Inc. I do not own them and am simply borrowing for my purposes. Please don't sue.
Thank you quintessmiley for all the beta help!
Neither of them knew how it had come to this. One minute, they'd been standing together. Arguing, as it usually went when they were stuck with each other for too long. (It was probably her fault, too, though she'd never admit it.) And the next, he was too close and she smelled too good and things were about to get out of hand. They both knew that well enough.
Until she stepped away, crossing her arms tightly against her chest. After a few deep breaths, she spun around to face him again, careful to keep the distance between them this time. "You-- you--" she was already yelling again, pointing violently at the person standing before her. "I blame you!"
He looked at her with an incredulous expression. "Me?" he cried. "What did I do?"
Shaking her head, she tried to find the words. "Every time I get around you, it's like... you bring out the-the fire in me." She punched his shoulder none-too-lightly. (She knew he could handle the pain, being the brave Apache and all.) "So stop it, already!"
"That's not my fault!" he argued, looking down at her with a hard expression. "You're the one who's always repressing things." He leaned closer. "I think I've made my feelings perfectly clear."
Dani scowled at him for once more invading her personal space. But she didn't back away. Her pride wouldn't let her. "Yeah, well, I'm supposed to be a leader.
Jimmy glowered right back. "And just what do you think I'm supposed to be?"
"Hey," her hands were on her hips now, "it's not my fault you don't see any ethical dilemma in consorting with the enemy."
A snort escaped before he could stop it. "Consorting with the enemy?" he repeated, not bothering to hide the laughter in his voice. "Christ, Dani, we're just teenagers. Your teammates were at our school for a while. You act like we're the Devil's answer to the X-Men or something."
She quirked an eyebrow. "Well you do belong to the Hellfire Club."
It was right about then that Jimmy had had enough. "Oh, build a bridge and get the fuck over it already." Dani looked aghast. "You're always trying to push things on us and blame us for stuff, but y'know what, kid?" He smirked. "We aren't evil." She rolled her eyes and he grabbed her shoulders. "We aren't."
"I know," Dani admitted finally, stepping away from his grip. "But it's easier to paint things in black and white. It makes it easier to-- to keep things simple."
Jimmy frowned. "But things aren't black and white. And they aren't simple."
There was a small voice in the back of her mind that agreed with him but she squashed it. "Yeah, well... they need to be for me." She shook her head. "I have to believe. For my team." Dani met his gaze evenly. "For me."
"And for us?"
Dani threw her hands up in exasperation. "Gods, Jimmy, there is no us. There can't be." She sighed. This conversation was exhausting. "Don't you get it? No matter how much I want-- it just isn't... I won't let it."
Something inside of him wouldn't-- couldn't let it go. "But if we both want--"
"It doesn't matter," she said with forced calm. "We're too far away."
Jimmy had a feeling she wasn't talking about the distance between Snow Valley and Westchester. He could already feel it spreading between them. "And the fire?"
There was something sad in the way she looked at him just then. And he realized that, maybe-- beneath the determination-- she felt it, too. "It'll burn out eventually." And then she turned away. There was nothing left to be said.