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Title: The Memphis Flyers
Author:
mona
Recipient:
kitsunejin
Fandom: Hellcats
Pairing: Marti/Alice
Rating: PG-13
Word count: ~3500
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or this series. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warnings: No standard warnings apply.
Summary: It's been a while since Marti's been to Memphis, or in contact with any of her old team. But when Mega-Raptor, her only lead on what happened to her father, slithers into the city, she's not far behind him, and finds herself working with a familiar, and - though you'll never get her to admit it out loud - much-missed face. Superhero AU.
Spoilers: Vague mid-series ones, but this is pretty darn AU.
Notes: Oh man, as soon as you mentioned an interest in wacky AUs in your Dear Author letter, I was gone. This isn't as wacky or as elaborate as what I wanted to write (I'm so sloooow, and my banter writing skills are SO rusty), but I hope it's still enjoyable. I'm sorry the \m/ hand gesture found its way into the story so many times, and for a few other questionable narrative choices that sort of got away from me. Thanks to Sonia for looking this over!
THE MEMPHIS FLYERS
Marti cursed a blue streak as she limped to cover and temporary safety. She hadn’t made this many mistakes since she was a teenager, still wearing those hideous costumes with the little cut-outs that doubled as stabbable fleshy targets. Her Prosecutor suit might look basic, on the other hand, but she always had several layers of stretchy military-grade armor strapped to her skin beneath the fitted pants and sleek blazers; the fact that Mega-Raptor had managed to slice her up this good was really only a testament to his strength.
That she let him get close enough to do it was all on her, though. As was misjudging how many of his Mini-Raptors he could conceal in their immediate proximity. It was an ambush, and she wouldn’t be able to hide here for long.
She yanked off her right boot, ripped the gauze out of her utility belt, and hastily wrapped it around the gouge in her heel, the deepest one she’d gotten, right in the middle of a spin-kick. (She’d thought she was spin-kicking henchmen, see, not the dino-man with the actual claws who had slithered up in front of her when she was preoccupied with his fake-claw-shooting minions.) After swallowing down a few painkillers, she used one hand to pick out shards of adamantium from some of the gashes in her back, and fumbled for the communicator in her front pocket with the other.
Her fingers shook a little as she pressed in the familiar code from memory and waited for a response. Before she could reconsider and just dial Wanda, never mind that she was three states away, a digitized voice was chirping a greeting into her ear. The warmth that no amount of electronics could disguise was a bittersweet indicator of how little some things had changed since Marti left.
"Hey, V." The voice got even chirpier upon confirming who was on the other line, and Marti smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, me too. Sorry…sorry it's been so long."
She swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. Marti knew established heroes helped each other out all the time, but even when she was a Hellcat, she had never really been part of those networks. She couldn't quite disregard the sense that she was overstepping her bounds. But the Hellcats HQ was only a few miles from her current specs, and the oily scent of scales swishing closer was increasing by the second. It was the only practical option. Plus Vanessa's chirpiness would dry up in a minute if she knew Marti was still putting her stubbornness before her safety - how many times had she had to give Marti that lecture, back in the day?
Yeah, the mental image of Vanessa's disapproving face was enough to snap Marti out of her self-pity loop. She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Listen, I know I'm not on the team anymore, but I'm in Memphis, on Mega-Raptor's trail, and I got beat up pretty bad. Anyone around who can give me an assist? Just this once…"
Vanessa laughed warmly. "Métalica is already on her way, she should be there momentarily."
"Wha-"
"I figured you wouldn't be calling if it wasn't really, really bad." Marti grimaced at the wry truth in that statement. "Anyway, unless you need something else, I'll let you get back to it, but Prosecutor - consider stopping by before you leave town again, hey? We'd all love to see your face."
The ghost of Savannah's grin flickered hopefully behind her eyelids, not for the first time since she'd arrived in Memphis. Marti swallowed down the pang of guilt. "Sure, yeah, I can do that. And…thanks a million, V. I owe you guys so much."
"It's our pleasure. I mean it." Marti could practically hear the curves of Vanessa's smile. "And don't you dare let Métalica think she can convince you otherwise."
On that, probably only partly facetious, note, Marti's earpiece fell silent. Before she could remember to pull up her mean girl defenses, a mechanical whirring signaled the arrival of her partner for the day.
With a soft whoosh, Marti's salvation, looking as much like a sexed up power ranger as ever, dropped down next to her and gave her an unimpressed once-over. "Damn, woman. I was gonna open with a jab about how well life as a lonely vigilante is treating you, but you look like something that got left on the side of the road. Even I'm not cruel enough to kick someone when they're this down."
Marti stuck out her tongue. "I missed you too, Metallica." She threw her hand up in a shaky sign of the horns. For old time's sake.
Alice rolled back her helmet just so Marti could see her make a face. "Ha, ha. It's good to see they couldn't slice the charm and grace out of you."
Marti blew her a sarcastic kiss, too caught up in the way the sunlight picked up the flecks of honey in Alice's eyes to put much energy into banter. She staggered to her feet and winced, hard, as she stepped on her bum foot; Alice tsked and moved quickly to catch her before she could fall.
"Seriously, you're a mess. Can we get out of here before the Paleolithic era ushers its way back over here to stampede all over you a second time?" She started gathering Marti up in her arms before she could answer, and it all brought back such primal sense memories; it would be so easy to just lie back and take the Verdura Express to safety, just like all those times her glider-wings got busted, but...
"Wait -- " she pushed against Alice's shoulders and prepared to jump back down. "You don't understand. I've been chasing this guy for months, I can't just lose him again." She stumbled a little on the landing, and held her hands up in a conciliatory gesture when she saw the way Alice was scowling down at her several inches off the ground. "It's not as bad as it looks, I swear. I just need someone to cover me."
"Oh NO you don't. I did not drag my ass out of practice on a Sunday just to be some limping hard-headed vigilante's back-up. You let me get you healed up before you do anymore combat or I'm out of here."
Marti breathed through her nose, trying to let go of the sudden intense surge of (also familiar) frustration. "Fine. Whatever. Leave. I am not losing this lead."
Marti really should have expected what happened next. Really really.
But by the time she remembered how easy and common it was for Alice to threaten one thing and mean another, she had metal-coated arms gripping her painfully around her waist and stomach, miles above the ground. She had no idea where they were headed, but she was pretty sure it was the opposite direction from the Raptors.
"Damn it, Alice!" At least now they were at a high enough altitude to curse each other out by first name. "Do you have any idea how important this is to me?"
"Relax. Quit being such a baby. And stop kicking like one - you know I can't even feel that through the armor, right?"
Marti muttered something unfavorable under her breath.
"Seriously, Marti, it will be fine. The guy's got business in our city, he's not going to disappear on you just yet. To sweeten the deal I'll tell you everything the Hellcats have got on him once we're back at my apartment, ok?"
Marti frowned, most of the fight going out of her. "Not like I have much of a choice."
Alice smirked. "No, no you don't. Ah, the vagaries of being flightless."
"Rub it in, why don't you. I'm glad to be done with those tacky wings, for your information."
"Mmhmm. Whatever you say, my little butterfly of justice."
Marti didn't care if Alice could feel it through the exo-suit; this punch was for all for Marti.
Alice's laugh was a musical thing. She kept her helmet off for the flight, and her long hair had untucked from the neck of her suit. It tumbled over her shoulders and whipped around them like live wires. It was probably going to suck to get a brush through it later, but, right now, with the wind and sun stroking over her - Alice was beautiful.
Sighing, Marti finally relaxed into her grip. "So how long will this take, anyway?"
"Not long. You should see some of the new tech I've had added to my suit." Alice's voice took on that intense edge it got whenever she was talking about her suit, her team, or her dad. Marti smiled in spite of herself. "It's like a built-in robonurse that can disinfect, anesthetize, cauterize and extract all at once. Bullets just pop right out! Even someone as beat up as you should be fixed up in no time."
"'Even someone as beat up as me'? Seriously, you make it sound like I got the ass-kicking of my life! I'm not that hurt!"
Alice smirked. "Yeah, I guess I overstated things. You may be dripping blood from every inch of your body, but your fedora is still looking as pristine as ever."
Marti scowled. "It was my dad's. It's one of a kind. I can't just replace it if it gets trashed like the rest of my costume."
"Ah." Alice was quiet for a few moments. "You know, I see you on tv sometimes, doing that move with it - tossing it above the line of fire while you finish clearing things out on the ground, and then catching it on your head again?" She dropped a kiss onto the top of the hat in question. "Very rock star, Miss Perkins."
Marti pretended she wasn't blushing, and twisted back to look Alice in the eye, trying to keep a straight face.
"You say that, but we both know: None of us can ever be as rock star as you, Metallica."
"You think you're cute," Alice huffed a quiet laugh. "But I can still drop you, Wingless."
Marti's only response was a slow, non-committal smile.
Back in the day, fucking up Alice's name was a one stop shop to a faceful of vitriol, sometimes accompanied by a lecture about her father's legacy as the first black-latino leader of the Heroes Union, joke all you like, call me when you've accomplished a fraction of what Métalico has done for this country.
The first time Marti mispronounced it, it had been an accident - Metallica seemed like a pretty appropriately badass name for the lean, mean-looking girl scowling in the corner at Marti's first training session, the civvies she was wearing and the broken wrist she was cradling doing nothing to detract from that formidable aura - but several instances of spiteful oneupsmanship later, realizing anything was a surefire way to piss Alice off was reason enough to do it as much as possible. (Alice seemed to operate on similar logic when it came to Marti.)
Then somewhere down the line, their team-ups started getting less grudging and more exhilaratedly anticipated, as it became obvious just how much ass they could kick when they were fighting bad guys instead of each other - and just how much fun they could have doing it - and Marti started learning more about the human beneath the exo-suit and sarcasm.
Learning that for all the funding and equipment and name brand recognition Alice's superstar dad gave her, he denied her the one thing she craved most: respect. Because she was still local to Memphis, because her team was heroines-only, because in his eyes, not making it as one of the guys and as someone who was on call to stop international incidents meant you hadn't made it at all. Marti learned just how big the shoes Alice was trying to fill were - how if the white boys' club that was the Heroes Union decided to let in its first black-latina hero, she'd have to be the best of the best, so much more of an asset than any of the existing heavyweights that they couldn't overlook her. And when Savannah put away her cape for a while to deal with family issues, and Alice became the leader in the field, V's right hand, Marti learned that for all her cockiness, Alice didn't really believe she was even the best of the Hellcats. Most driven, maybe, most passionate, but for as much as she treated certain parts of the work as competition, ultimately, she just saw herself as one part of a whole.
The things Marti learned about racial double standards in the superhero world, she would have vehemently denied at first - Alice came from money, Marti was self-taught, self-sewn, self-made, and besides, what was this, the 1950s? But the more she learned to respect Alice, to try to see and hear her point of view on things, the more she learned to face reality. Face that even on the days she felt like the trashiest of white trash, she was still white in a country that placed undue value on having its heroes be sufficiently "all-American" looking - after all, it was us vs. them, America vs. Foreign Threats, white America wanted the faces of its protectors to reflect what they believed they were protecting. Marti's chances as a blonde newbie of getting attention and esteem on a national stage, of getting enough government funding that she could quit her day job and go full-time, were so much better than a veteran like Alice's, no matter how hard and long Alice worked, how much of herself she put into fighting for a country that only wanted her if she stayed in its shadows.
In other words, Marti started learning why the name and the legacy meant as much as they did, why Alice hadn't opted to be called "Steel Girl" or "Mechanical Lady" or any other title that might up her whitebread cred and improve her chances of getting the acknowledgment she craved - the acknowledgment she deserved.
Because she did deserve it. After a time, Marti learned that Alice cared as much about the work as she did any aspirations of grandeur and fatherly approval; Marti felt the way the world slipped away from them when they fought together, watched the way Alice threw herself into every mission till every civilian was safe and free, and she learned a desire for recognition and appreciation didn't actually have to conflict with a desire to do good, to make the world a better, safer place.
She respected Alice, and she liked Alice, and she wanted to show it.
But the first time Marti sucked it up and called out to her the right way - "hey, Métalica, which entry point do you want to take?" - Alice had laughed in her face.
"Ugh, Marti," she'd said. "You sound like you're choking on your own teeth. You are SO lucky no one wants you to be bilingual - and seriously, trust me, no one wants that. Please...just...stick to your cute little nickname, and spare us all."
It was a 4 syllable word, Marti wasn't sure what she could be doing with it that was so terrible. Probably Alice was just messing with her to pay her back. But it had become sort of a...thing...between them, and Marti would rather nurture this small, tentative something that was just theirs than embarrass herself with bad Spanish.
This took Marti the longest to learn, but that was another one of the incredible things about Alice. People bastardizing her second language, people trying to rankle her, insulting her, writing her off as a bitch - all of it she would just twist into a something so positive, powerfully, uniquely Alice the world just couldn't touch it. She wore her bitch label with pride. The alias her sponsors encouraged her to change to something with more "mainstream appeal" became a mark of identity. Her dad's dismissal of all-girl hero teams just strengthened her determination to prove how invaluable heroines could be, all on their own. And what started as a petty rivalry between her and the Hellcats newbie became one of the strongest partnerships on the team.
So when that partnership turned into something more, when the high of a perfectly executed double bluff against Psyclops led to clothes being shed and hips being rocked together, to warmwetsweethot closeness that was so different from the incredible thing Marti had built with Savannah, but no less wonderful...Marti wasn't even surprised to watch that asinine nickname take on another nuance. Stroking her pinky and index fingers down Alice's chest, whispering about how metal it was when she saved those thirty hostages, how hardcore-extreme-badass-boss she was, how Marti loved just watching her...there was something so extraordinarily, peculiarly intimate about it. Metallica. Touch me. Metallica. Kiss me.
It was something that was just theirs, and Marti was pleased to see that despite how certain she was that Alice, Alice "the Team is EVERYTHING" Verdura, would never forgive her for abandoning the Hellcats, that snippy fondness, that connection, still seemed to be there. It gave her strength to try to make up her long absence to Savannah, too, and it finally dissolved the dread that had been coloring everything about being back in Memphis.
Most of the flight back to Alice's apartment was quiet, Marti lost in her own thoughts and Alice seemingly lost in hers as well.
They made quick work of Marti's ruined costume, and the medical tech in Alice's exo-suit was every bit as amazing as she promised: the only upgrade Marti could possibly imagine was some magical healing laser that shot over your body in a single sweep. Otherwise this was pretty much the fastest fix-up job she could have even conceived of.
Which brought up some questions -- "Hey, how come you couldn't have done this when we were still in the alley? It seriously would have taken like five minutes, tops."
Alice made a great show of rolling her eyes. "Your body still needs some time to heal now that the wounds are superficially taken care of." She stepped out of the exo-suit and Marti knew she was serious. "Good grief, Marti, I know you've gone a while without a team but I promise you there's still merit in this 'working together' and 'trusting your partner' business."
Marti groaned. "Oh no, not a lecture about The Team. I did not come back for this."
"What-ever," Alice pouted. "You'll be thanking me in a minute. And if you'd come to us first, you could have had this information in your pocket before throwing yourself headfirst into Mega-Raptor's path."
"I'm listening. Don't you want to know what I already have, though? I've been tracking him three states away from you for months, I know you guys have great resources, but he's - "
"Bobby Overton, right?"
"What? How do you know that? I had to work my ass off to pull out any info on his identity - "
"He's in Memphis because he's working with Dollar Bill. We've been trying to bring him down ourselves all week, and Bill, well - you know how long he's been ripping up this city from the inside."
"Wow." Marti was almost a little bit speechless. "Bill Marsh and the Dino man in cahoots. Never saw THAT one coming."
"No one did. But it means he's been outfitted with all sorts of new power ups - it was really, really foolish for you to go after him on your own. It would be really, really foolish for you to leave here and go after him on your own again."
Marti started to protest, but Alice cut her off with a smirk.
"Of course, if you want...you can go after him with us. I slipped tracers onto a bunch of the Mini-Raptors on my way to you, V's been keeping close tabs on Mega-Raptor's new abilities, Savannah is back in action and battle-ready, and Frankie and Yun have major personal bones to pick after Dollar Bill's last fiasco."
"Alice, you know I can't. You know I work alone now...I can't get wrapped up in the team stuff again, especially not before I've resolved this whole thing with my dad."
Alice huffed. "I know that's what YOU think. But it's not like we're going to lock you up in our basement once we both get what we want out of this. I'm just offering to pool our resources while you're in town."
Alice straddled Marti, and draped her arms over her shoulders. "Come on, Marti Perkins." She pressed a messy kiss against Marti's taut lips. "For old time's sake?"
Marti could feel herself thawing. She had to work on her own when she was back home, it was the best way to stay low profile enough to gather the information she needed, but...she wasn't there right now.
And hell knew, she missed this.
Alice was licking and biting her way down Marti's neck now, and Marti pushed her off her with a groan.
"FINE, dammit. You win. But none of this -- " she gestured vaguely at Alice's wandering hands and wet, wet grin -- "till Mega-Raptor is cuffed and through interrogation. Deal?"
Alice saluted. "Nothing comes before The Team, my friend! Not even hot, hot sex..."
Marti rolled her eyes, and swallowed down the dark little thrill she still got every time Alice looked at her like that.
Suddenly a panicked thought struck her. "Wait, shit, what am I supposed wear out of here, Alice? All my spare costumes are back at the motel!"
Alice's grin suddenly turned even more evil. "Oh, well. Some of us are always prepared."
Marti followed her to her closet. "What, you got an extra exo-suit in there? Purple's not really my color..."
"Better," Alice gestured with a smirk. Hanging there inside her closet, in immaculate condition, glider wings and all, was one of Marti's old Justice Girl costumes.
Rather than being horrified - that Alice expected her to suit back up in this monstrosity - Marti was just kind of...touched.
"You've saved that? This whole time?"
Alice's glance flickered uncomfortably from Marti back to the uniform. "Why not? I always knew you'd come home."
The smirk was back. "My little butterfly."
Later, Marti would fly through the city holding her sometimes-partner, sometimes-lover's hand, yanked into a hideous costume with girly wings and little cut-outs that doubled as stabbable fleshy targets.
But right now, there was just her, her fists, and Alice. Alice sans exosuit.
Defenseless Alice, and her defenseless right shoulder.
...Marti made good use of the opportunity before her.
Author:
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Recipient:
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Fandom: Hellcats
Pairing: Marti/Alice
Rating: PG-13
Word count: ~3500
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or this series. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warnings: No standard warnings apply.
Summary: It's been a while since Marti's been to Memphis, or in contact with any of her old team. But when Mega-Raptor, her only lead on what happened to her father, slithers into the city, she's not far behind him, and finds herself working with a familiar, and - though you'll never get her to admit it out loud - much-missed face. Superhero AU.
Spoilers: Vague mid-series ones, but this is pretty darn AU.
Notes: Oh man, as soon as you mentioned an interest in wacky AUs in your Dear Author letter, I was gone. This isn't as wacky or as elaborate as what I wanted to write (I'm so sloooow, and my banter writing skills are SO rusty), but I hope it's still enjoyable. I'm sorry the \m/ hand gesture found its way into the story so many times, and for a few other questionable narrative choices that sort of got away from me. Thanks to Sonia for looking this over!
THE MEMPHIS FLYERS
Marti cursed a blue streak as she limped to cover and temporary safety. She hadn’t made this many mistakes since she was a teenager, still wearing those hideous costumes with the little cut-outs that doubled as stabbable fleshy targets. Her Prosecutor suit might look basic, on the other hand, but she always had several layers of stretchy military-grade armor strapped to her skin beneath the fitted pants and sleek blazers; the fact that Mega-Raptor had managed to slice her up this good was really only a testament to his strength.
That she let him get close enough to do it was all on her, though. As was misjudging how many of his Mini-Raptors he could conceal in their immediate proximity. It was an ambush, and she wouldn’t be able to hide here for long.
She yanked off her right boot, ripped the gauze out of her utility belt, and hastily wrapped it around the gouge in her heel, the deepest one she’d gotten, right in the middle of a spin-kick. (She’d thought she was spin-kicking henchmen, see, not the dino-man with the actual claws who had slithered up in front of her when she was preoccupied with his fake-claw-shooting minions.) After swallowing down a few painkillers, she used one hand to pick out shards of adamantium from some of the gashes in her back, and fumbled for the communicator in her front pocket with the other.
Her fingers shook a little as she pressed in the familiar code from memory and waited for a response. Before she could reconsider and just dial Wanda, never mind that she was three states away, a digitized voice was chirping a greeting into her ear. The warmth that no amount of electronics could disguise was a bittersweet indicator of how little some things had changed since Marti left.
"Hey, V." The voice got even chirpier upon confirming who was on the other line, and Marti smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, me too. Sorry…sorry it's been so long."
She swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. Marti knew established heroes helped each other out all the time, but even when she was a Hellcat, she had never really been part of those networks. She couldn't quite disregard the sense that she was overstepping her bounds. But the Hellcats HQ was only a few miles from her current specs, and the oily scent of scales swishing closer was increasing by the second. It was the only practical option. Plus Vanessa's chirpiness would dry up in a minute if she knew Marti was still putting her stubbornness before her safety - how many times had she had to give Marti that lecture, back in the day?
Yeah, the mental image of Vanessa's disapproving face was enough to snap Marti out of her self-pity loop. She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Listen, I know I'm not on the team anymore, but I'm in Memphis, on Mega-Raptor's trail, and I got beat up pretty bad. Anyone around who can give me an assist? Just this once…"
Vanessa laughed warmly. "Métalica is already on her way, she should be there momentarily."
"Wha-"
"I figured you wouldn't be calling if it wasn't really, really bad." Marti grimaced at the wry truth in that statement. "Anyway, unless you need something else, I'll let you get back to it, but Prosecutor - consider stopping by before you leave town again, hey? We'd all love to see your face."
The ghost of Savannah's grin flickered hopefully behind her eyelids, not for the first time since she'd arrived in Memphis. Marti swallowed down the pang of guilt. "Sure, yeah, I can do that. And…thanks a million, V. I owe you guys so much."
"It's our pleasure. I mean it." Marti could practically hear the curves of Vanessa's smile. "And don't you dare let Métalica think she can convince you otherwise."
On that, probably only partly facetious, note, Marti's earpiece fell silent. Before she could remember to pull up her mean girl defenses, a mechanical whirring signaled the arrival of her partner for the day.
With a soft whoosh, Marti's salvation, looking as much like a sexed up power ranger as ever, dropped down next to her and gave her an unimpressed once-over. "Damn, woman. I was gonna open with a jab about how well life as a lonely vigilante is treating you, but you look like something that got left on the side of the road. Even I'm not cruel enough to kick someone when they're this down."
Marti stuck out her tongue. "I missed you too, Metallica." She threw her hand up in a shaky sign of the horns. For old time's sake.
Alice rolled back her helmet just so Marti could see her make a face. "Ha, ha. It's good to see they couldn't slice the charm and grace out of you."
Marti blew her a sarcastic kiss, too caught up in the way the sunlight picked up the flecks of honey in Alice's eyes to put much energy into banter. She staggered to her feet and winced, hard, as she stepped on her bum foot; Alice tsked and moved quickly to catch her before she could fall.
"Seriously, you're a mess. Can we get out of here before the Paleolithic era ushers its way back over here to stampede all over you a second time?" She started gathering Marti up in her arms before she could answer, and it all brought back such primal sense memories; it would be so easy to just lie back and take the Verdura Express to safety, just like all those times her glider-wings got busted, but...
"Wait -- " she pushed against Alice's shoulders and prepared to jump back down. "You don't understand. I've been chasing this guy for months, I can't just lose him again." She stumbled a little on the landing, and held her hands up in a conciliatory gesture when she saw the way Alice was scowling down at her several inches off the ground. "It's not as bad as it looks, I swear. I just need someone to cover me."
"Oh NO you don't. I did not drag my ass out of practice on a Sunday just to be some limping hard-headed vigilante's back-up. You let me get you healed up before you do anymore combat or I'm out of here."
Marti breathed through her nose, trying to let go of the sudden intense surge of (also familiar) frustration. "Fine. Whatever. Leave. I am not losing this lead."
Marti really should have expected what happened next. Really really.
But by the time she remembered how easy and common it was for Alice to threaten one thing and mean another, she had metal-coated arms gripping her painfully around her waist and stomach, miles above the ground. She had no idea where they were headed, but she was pretty sure it was the opposite direction from the Raptors.
"Damn it, Alice!" At least now they were at a high enough altitude to curse each other out by first name. "Do you have any idea how important this is to me?"
"Relax. Quit being such a baby. And stop kicking like one - you know I can't even feel that through the armor, right?"
Marti muttered something unfavorable under her breath.
"Seriously, Marti, it will be fine. The guy's got business in our city, he's not going to disappear on you just yet. To sweeten the deal I'll tell you everything the Hellcats have got on him once we're back at my apartment, ok?"
Marti frowned, most of the fight going out of her. "Not like I have much of a choice."
Alice smirked. "No, no you don't. Ah, the vagaries of being flightless."
"Rub it in, why don't you. I'm glad to be done with those tacky wings, for your information."
"Mmhmm. Whatever you say, my little butterfly of justice."
Marti didn't care if Alice could feel it through the exo-suit; this punch was for all for Marti.
Alice's laugh was a musical thing. She kept her helmet off for the flight, and her long hair had untucked from the neck of her suit. It tumbled over her shoulders and whipped around them like live wires. It was probably going to suck to get a brush through it later, but, right now, with the wind and sun stroking over her - Alice was beautiful.
Sighing, Marti finally relaxed into her grip. "So how long will this take, anyway?"
"Not long. You should see some of the new tech I've had added to my suit." Alice's voice took on that intense edge it got whenever she was talking about her suit, her team, or her dad. Marti smiled in spite of herself. "It's like a built-in robonurse that can disinfect, anesthetize, cauterize and extract all at once. Bullets just pop right out! Even someone as beat up as you should be fixed up in no time."
"'Even someone as beat up as me'? Seriously, you make it sound like I got the ass-kicking of my life! I'm not that hurt!"
Alice smirked. "Yeah, I guess I overstated things. You may be dripping blood from every inch of your body, but your fedora is still looking as pristine as ever."
Marti scowled. "It was my dad's. It's one of a kind. I can't just replace it if it gets trashed like the rest of my costume."
"Ah." Alice was quiet for a few moments. "You know, I see you on tv sometimes, doing that move with it - tossing it above the line of fire while you finish clearing things out on the ground, and then catching it on your head again?" She dropped a kiss onto the top of the hat in question. "Very rock star, Miss Perkins."
Marti pretended she wasn't blushing, and twisted back to look Alice in the eye, trying to keep a straight face.
"You say that, but we both know: None of us can ever be as rock star as you, Metallica."
"You think you're cute," Alice huffed a quiet laugh. "But I can still drop you, Wingless."
Marti's only response was a slow, non-committal smile.
Back in the day, fucking up Alice's name was a one stop shop to a faceful of vitriol, sometimes accompanied by a lecture about her father's legacy as the first black-latino leader of the Heroes Union, joke all you like, call me when you've accomplished a fraction of what Métalico has done for this country.
The first time Marti mispronounced it, it had been an accident - Metallica seemed like a pretty appropriately badass name for the lean, mean-looking girl scowling in the corner at Marti's first training session, the civvies she was wearing and the broken wrist she was cradling doing nothing to detract from that formidable aura - but several instances of spiteful oneupsmanship later, realizing anything was a surefire way to piss Alice off was reason enough to do it as much as possible. (Alice seemed to operate on similar logic when it came to Marti.)
Then somewhere down the line, their team-ups started getting less grudging and more exhilaratedly anticipated, as it became obvious just how much ass they could kick when they were fighting bad guys instead of each other - and just how much fun they could have doing it - and Marti started learning more about the human beneath the exo-suit and sarcasm.
Learning that for all the funding and equipment and name brand recognition Alice's superstar dad gave her, he denied her the one thing she craved most: respect. Because she was still local to Memphis, because her team was heroines-only, because in his eyes, not making it as one of the guys and as someone who was on call to stop international incidents meant you hadn't made it at all. Marti learned just how big the shoes Alice was trying to fill were - how if the white boys' club that was the Heroes Union decided to let in its first black-latina hero, she'd have to be the best of the best, so much more of an asset than any of the existing heavyweights that they couldn't overlook her. And when Savannah put away her cape for a while to deal with family issues, and Alice became the leader in the field, V's right hand, Marti learned that for all her cockiness, Alice didn't really believe she was even the best of the Hellcats. Most driven, maybe, most passionate, but for as much as she treated certain parts of the work as competition, ultimately, she just saw herself as one part of a whole.
The things Marti learned about racial double standards in the superhero world, she would have vehemently denied at first - Alice came from money, Marti was self-taught, self-sewn, self-made, and besides, what was this, the 1950s? But the more she learned to respect Alice, to try to see and hear her point of view on things, the more she learned to face reality. Face that even on the days she felt like the trashiest of white trash, she was still white in a country that placed undue value on having its heroes be sufficiently "all-American" looking - after all, it was us vs. them, America vs. Foreign Threats, white America wanted the faces of its protectors to reflect what they believed they were protecting. Marti's chances as a blonde newbie of getting attention and esteem on a national stage, of getting enough government funding that she could quit her day job and go full-time, were so much better than a veteran like Alice's, no matter how hard and long Alice worked, how much of herself she put into fighting for a country that only wanted her if she stayed in its shadows.
In other words, Marti started learning why the name and the legacy meant as much as they did, why Alice hadn't opted to be called "Steel Girl" or "Mechanical Lady" or any other title that might up her whitebread cred and improve her chances of getting the acknowledgment she craved - the acknowledgment she deserved.
Because she did deserve it. After a time, Marti learned that Alice cared as much about the work as she did any aspirations of grandeur and fatherly approval; Marti felt the way the world slipped away from them when they fought together, watched the way Alice threw herself into every mission till every civilian was safe and free, and she learned a desire for recognition and appreciation didn't actually have to conflict with a desire to do good, to make the world a better, safer place.
She respected Alice, and she liked Alice, and she wanted to show it.
But the first time Marti sucked it up and called out to her the right way - "hey, Métalica, which entry point do you want to take?" - Alice had laughed in her face.
"Ugh, Marti," she'd said. "You sound like you're choking on your own teeth. You are SO lucky no one wants you to be bilingual - and seriously, trust me, no one wants that. Please...just...stick to your cute little nickname, and spare us all."
It was a 4 syllable word, Marti wasn't sure what she could be doing with it that was so terrible. Probably Alice was just messing with her to pay her back. But it had become sort of a...thing...between them, and Marti would rather nurture this small, tentative something that was just theirs than embarrass herself with bad Spanish.
This took Marti the longest to learn, but that was another one of the incredible things about Alice. People bastardizing her second language, people trying to rankle her, insulting her, writing her off as a bitch - all of it she would just twist into a something so positive, powerfully, uniquely Alice the world just couldn't touch it. She wore her bitch label with pride. The alias her sponsors encouraged her to change to something with more "mainstream appeal" became a mark of identity. Her dad's dismissal of all-girl hero teams just strengthened her determination to prove how invaluable heroines could be, all on their own. And what started as a petty rivalry between her and the Hellcats newbie became one of the strongest partnerships on the team.
So when that partnership turned into something more, when the high of a perfectly executed double bluff against Psyclops led to clothes being shed and hips being rocked together, to warmwetsweethot closeness that was so different from the incredible thing Marti had built with Savannah, but no less wonderful...Marti wasn't even surprised to watch that asinine nickname take on another nuance. Stroking her pinky and index fingers down Alice's chest, whispering about how metal it was when she saved those thirty hostages, how hardcore-extreme-badass-boss she was, how Marti loved just watching her...there was something so extraordinarily, peculiarly intimate about it. Metallica. Touch me. Metallica. Kiss me.
It was something that was just theirs, and Marti was pleased to see that despite how certain she was that Alice, Alice "the Team is EVERYTHING" Verdura, would never forgive her for abandoning the Hellcats, that snippy fondness, that connection, still seemed to be there. It gave her strength to try to make up her long absence to Savannah, too, and it finally dissolved the dread that had been coloring everything about being back in Memphis.
Most of the flight back to Alice's apartment was quiet, Marti lost in her own thoughts and Alice seemingly lost in hers as well.
They made quick work of Marti's ruined costume, and the medical tech in Alice's exo-suit was every bit as amazing as she promised: the only upgrade Marti could possibly imagine was some magical healing laser that shot over your body in a single sweep. Otherwise this was pretty much the fastest fix-up job she could have even conceived of.
Which brought up some questions -- "Hey, how come you couldn't have done this when we were still in the alley? It seriously would have taken like five minutes, tops."
Alice made a great show of rolling her eyes. "Your body still needs some time to heal now that the wounds are superficially taken care of." She stepped out of the exo-suit and Marti knew she was serious. "Good grief, Marti, I know you've gone a while without a team but I promise you there's still merit in this 'working together' and 'trusting your partner' business."
Marti groaned. "Oh no, not a lecture about The Team. I did not come back for this."
"What-ever," Alice pouted. "You'll be thanking me in a minute. And if you'd come to us first, you could have had this information in your pocket before throwing yourself headfirst into Mega-Raptor's path."
"I'm listening. Don't you want to know what I already have, though? I've been tracking him three states away from you for months, I know you guys have great resources, but he's - "
"Bobby Overton, right?"
"What? How do you know that? I had to work my ass off to pull out any info on his identity - "
"He's in Memphis because he's working with Dollar Bill. We've been trying to bring him down ourselves all week, and Bill, well - you know how long he's been ripping up this city from the inside."
"Wow." Marti was almost a little bit speechless. "Bill Marsh and the Dino man in cahoots. Never saw THAT one coming."
"No one did. But it means he's been outfitted with all sorts of new power ups - it was really, really foolish for you to go after him on your own. It would be really, really foolish for you to leave here and go after him on your own again."
Marti started to protest, but Alice cut her off with a smirk.
"Of course, if you want...you can go after him with us. I slipped tracers onto a bunch of the Mini-Raptors on my way to you, V's been keeping close tabs on Mega-Raptor's new abilities, Savannah is back in action and battle-ready, and Frankie and Yun have major personal bones to pick after Dollar Bill's last fiasco."
"Alice, you know I can't. You know I work alone now...I can't get wrapped up in the team stuff again, especially not before I've resolved this whole thing with my dad."
Alice huffed. "I know that's what YOU think. But it's not like we're going to lock you up in our basement once we both get what we want out of this. I'm just offering to pool our resources while you're in town."
Alice straddled Marti, and draped her arms over her shoulders. "Come on, Marti Perkins." She pressed a messy kiss against Marti's taut lips. "For old time's sake?"
Marti could feel herself thawing. She had to work on her own when she was back home, it was the best way to stay low profile enough to gather the information she needed, but...she wasn't there right now.
And hell knew, she missed this.
Alice was licking and biting her way down Marti's neck now, and Marti pushed her off her with a groan.
"FINE, dammit. You win. But none of this -- " she gestured vaguely at Alice's wandering hands and wet, wet grin -- "till Mega-Raptor is cuffed and through interrogation. Deal?"
Alice saluted. "Nothing comes before The Team, my friend! Not even hot, hot sex..."
Marti rolled her eyes, and swallowed down the dark little thrill she still got every time Alice looked at her like that.
Suddenly a panicked thought struck her. "Wait, shit, what am I supposed wear out of here, Alice? All my spare costumes are back at the motel!"
Alice's grin suddenly turned even more evil. "Oh, well. Some of us are always prepared."
Marti followed her to her closet. "What, you got an extra exo-suit in there? Purple's not really my color..."
"Better," Alice gestured with a smirk. Hanging there inside her closet, in immaculate condition, glider wings and all, was one of Marti's old Justice Girl costumes.
Rather than being horrified - that Alice expected her to suit back up in this monstrosity - Marti was just kind of...touched.
"You've saved that? This whole time?"
Alice's glance flickered uncomfortably from Marti back to the uniform. "Why not? I always knew you'd come home."
The smirk was back. "My little butterfly."
Later, Marti would fly through the city holding her sometimes-partner, sometimes-lover's hand, yanked into a hideous costume with girly wings and little cut-outs that doubled as stabbable fleshy targets.
But right now, there was just her, her fists, and Alice. Alice sans exosuit.
Defenseless Alice, and her defenseless right shoulder.
...Marti made good use of the opportunity before her.
no subject
Date: 2011-08-17 06:03 am (UTC)That she let him get close enough to do it was all on her, though.
MARTI. She's just so hard on herself all the tiiiime.
Alice smirked. "No, no you don't. Ah, the vagaries of being flightless."
<3 I can hear her saying this so clearly.
And you know how I feel about it, but it's really hard for me not to quote back like THE WHOLE MIDDLE PART about Alice and how she deals with not being seen as an "all american hero". It's just so good. Also Alice just loves the team so much. My heart.
Stroking her pinky and index fingers down Alice's chest, whispering about how metal it was when she saved those thirty hostages, how hardcore-extreme-badass-boss she was, how Marti loved just watching her
ahhhhh SO PERFECT.
Also, I AM STILL NOT OVER DOLLAR BILL. Best joke.
Rather than being horrified - that Alice expected her to suit back up in this monstrosity - Marti was just kind of…touched.
CUTE. TOTALLY CUTE.
THEY JUST LIKE EACH OTHER SO MUCH AND ALICE KEPT MARTI'S SILL OUTFIT AND OF COURSE MARTI HAD A SILLY OUTFIT AND JUST YES. ALL OF IT.
no subject
Date: 2011-08-17 05:55 pm (UTC)For all your help & support all the way through and for this wonderful-amazing comment, ahhhhh, I KEEP REREADING IT AND BEAMING. Ilu! And your love for these girls!!!
no subject
Date: 2011-08-17 02:29 pm (UTC)Oh my god, this is perfect! You had me at Alice, Marti and SUPERHEROES, to be honest; I started grinning like a fool as soon as I saw that, and haven't stopped since.
I love it so much! I love the complicated teammates-rivals-lovers-friends relationship between Alice and Marti, all the little details about what their relationship is like.
I love the BANTER, all of the teasing; my little butterfly of justice, oh my god I almost DIED. I can totally imagine Alice saying that!
And the other details, the costumes (little cut-outs that doubled as stabbable fleshy targets!), the names. Marti as Prosector (and before, Young Justice); Alice as Métalica, it's all so great. The way you talk about Alice's struggle to be accepted is fantastic, painful and real.
And the ending, the fact that Alice kept her costume for so long? So sweet!
I love this whole universe SO MUCH. Thank you, thank you! <3
no subject
Date: 2011-08-17 05:52 pm (UTC)