Subject: [OTL]: (Timewind Arc, Aidan Richards/Ninaeve Cassidy) Pyrotic Ascent (PG-13) Date: Tue, 24 Sep 2002 21:28:05 -0700 (PDT) From: Phil Hartman will1@earthling.net Timewind Arc: Pyrotic Ascent by Phil Hartman DISCLAIMER: The kids are mine. Their parents are Marvel's. No money is being made off of this. Please don't sue. NOTE: The sequel to "Pyrotic Lament" ... explanations below ... -------------------------------------------------------- 9/8/2020: -------------------------------------------------------- He's risking a lot, coming here. The boy stands before his love's stasis pod, readying himself. She is the reason he must play Prince Charming to Sleeping Beauty, he thinks. The still-healing energy blast wound that almost claimed her life three months earlier can be felt, through his healing power's pull. Muscle and skin cells continue to knit, while arteries and veins weave through the damaged flesh. Another few centimeters to the right, and the songstress's heart would have become ash. That fact tears at the boy's heart, now beating faster. They're similar, except for gender and religion - he's a WASP, she's an Irish Catholic emigree. But the red hair and green eyes and lanky bodies and telepathy and young love tie them together. He stops, not daring to breathe. True, he's trained in simulations, but those were hard-light. And he didn't always succeed. But she sang a song of healing for him, despite her own near-mortal wound, after Sinister shot her in the back and a Marauder almost skewered the boy. The boy won't fail the girl. Not again. His cyberkinesis flickers, lightning from the three-pound lump of woven proteins between his ears into the labyrinth of circuits controlling her stasis pod. A gush of fluid answers, puddling around the boy's feet as the door opens. She slumps, breathing on her own as she has been for weeks now, against the back of the pod, and he removes the breath mask. He ignores the green fluid staining both their black skinsuits, and reaches over to kiss her. The jolt of lightning between them has nothing to do with the rigid dance of electronics. This is bioenergy at its most potent - stimulating an explosion of cellular growth within the girl's still-ravaged chest, and trying to kindle the ember of life-force she almost burned out saving him. He calls, ignoring the RAUUNK-RAUUNK of the intrusion alarms and the desire/terror shiver of his body as he takes her in his arms. He calls to her mind to mind - -------------------------------------------------------- It's not the same dream anymore. They're not on the beach - him in that brief-cut swimsuit, she in the two-piece - with the laughing pale clown looming over them. She can't feel the blood coming out of her back anymore. She's floating, now - not like in the death-dreams, where the angel comes and walks her towards the light and her parents are crying over her body. She lands on a sidewalk - a boardwalk, the long red-haired, green-eyed Irish girl realizes, smiling. She's back in her swimsuit again (not that awful funeral dress so many of her dreams over the past few months have focused around), and he's back in his swimsuit again. This time, they're walking, hot boards beneath bare feet, whispers and giggles and laughter and seagulls the only noises. No screams or plasma blasts. The smells are of corn dogs and summer sweat and shy breath, and soft drinks and suntan lotion. No horrible odor of sickly-sweet burnt - She tries not to think of what happened. She can't help it - - but this time, there's more warmth, and the boy isn't bleeding from his side. He's whole - his hair's much shorter, in a style she's not sure she likes, but he's filled out more. And he's still wearing that daring swimsuit she liked SO much. It was his bravery - about his body, about their reunion - that really clinched it for her, she remembers. And he's calling - - and the warmth is just like real sunlight - -------------------------------------------------------- Ninaeve Cassidy's green eyes fluttered open, as she realized she was wearing a damp black skinsuit and her hair was damp. And she was in shaking arms covered in skinsuit, looking into tearful, happy green eyes while sunlight glinted off of crewcut red hair. "You're back ! You're really back !" Aidan Richards gasped, returning Ninaeve's hug. "Ye called. I had t'come back," Ninaeve whispered, smiling as her lips found his and her mind reached for him. ~I dreamed about this,~ Aidan sent, blushing physically and mentally despite the thrill of joy and tentative desire resonating across the nascent psi-link. ~So did I. Now hush an' kiss me, ye bonnie lad,~ Ninaeve sent back, blushing and desiring. The kiss was warm and wet. The hug was cold and wet. Neither of them really cared, as the XSE guards and medical personnel approached, awe-struck. -------------------------------------------------------- NOT the end ... ;) --------------------------------------------------------