(no subject)

[ladyfirestarter]

Charlie's walking out by the lake. Remembering meeting Rachel Gray there, over two years ago.

Still getting used to this. It's like ... she can't think what it's like.

Comments

[walking_napalm]

They shake on it and Liz shoots Charlie a funny look at the giggle, though her own grin broadens in response.

"What?"

[ladyfirestarter]

"I was just. Remember the last time we talked? -- Or no, not the last time, the time before that?"

[walking_napalm]

"How could I forget?" says Liz, and she's on the verge of a laugh herself, though hers is rueful.

[ladyfirestarter]

"It, um. Came to mind at a kind of delicate point? And I couldn't explain to Prometheus why I was laughing."

[walking_napalm]

Liz blinks at her for a second.

Replays what Charlie just said, in her head.

It came to mind at a kind of delicate point--



And she laughs, and almost immediately covers her mouth with her hand.

"You didn't set anything on fire, did you? It's -- pretty easy to do."

(She's still -- and here is a word that is never used in context with Liz Sherman -- giggling.)

[ladyfirestarter]

"Not, um. Not exactly? Though ..."

Faint color stains her cheeks, but she's still smiling.

"I was going to ask you, um." Half a beat. "Where do you get your fireproof clothes made?"

[walking_napalm]

She grins, still against her hand, and lowers her fingers.

"Honestly, I'm not totally sure," she says, rueful. "I don't buy them myself. My clothes aren't fireproof; the ones that come through the Bureau, that I wear on missions, are."

(She's just started wearing those pretty much all the time.

She's trying to embrace the fire and allow it to burn more often instead of wrenching it back all the time, which makes wearing non-fireproof skirts and tights and sweaters kind of difficult.)

"I'm pretty sure it's the same company that makes most of Red's on special order. Considering they haven't gone to the media yet about making pants that'll go over hooves and have tail holes -- I think they're pretty discreet.

"I can find out the name and if they take non-government orders, if you want," she offers.

[ladyfirestarter]

Charlie smiles gratefully. "Could you? Because I don't even know where to begin asking, back home."

[walking_napalm]

"Sure. One of the guys in requisitions should know."

Liz gives Charlie a thoughtful glance, head to toe. Liz is smaller but not by that much, and she has a tendency to like her clothes a little big, so...

"In the meantime -- do you want to borrow some clothes? They might not look quite right, but it'd probably be better than winding up naked."

Not -- that that has ever happened to Liz.

[ladyfirestarter]

"Really?" Her smile broadens. "That'd be -- I mean, I've been okay so far with not setting my own clothes on fire, but that'd be great."

[walking_napalm]

A little wry: "As long as you don't mind that your choices are black, black, black, and combat boots."

[ladyfirestarter]

"I can do black," she says. And pauses, and adds "Though it might make my coworkers nervous."

[walking_napalm]

Liz half-smiles, dry. "It does that, sometimes.

"I'm pretty sure I left some stuff upstairs, if you want to--?" She jerks a thumb toward the back door.

[ladyfirestarter]

"Please," she says, heartfelt. "Thank you so much."

[walking_napalm]

She slips her hands into her coat pockets and takes the first couple steps toward the bar. "It's no big deal," she says, still smiling a little and giving a small shrug. "You're welcome."

[ladyfirestarter]

Charlie's not going to counter-assert that it is a big deal. Especially because she's not entirely sure it is; maybe it's just her good mood overflowing.

(Seriously, "good mood" doesn't quite cover it. Right now Charlie loves absolutely everybody and everything in the world.)

Instead she just falls into step next to Liz, heading back toward the bar.

[walking_napalm]

A couple of steps in, Liz stops considering and just stops altogether.

Walking, that is.

She says, "Can we try something?" It's said a little cautiously -- but she's curious.

[ladyfirestarter]

Charlie tilts her head, curious in turn.

"What did you have in mind?"

[walking_napalm]

"Can you--?" She slips a gloved hand out of her pocket and wiggles her fingers, palm up; it's an illustrative gesture and a request.

She looks thoughtful.

[ladyfirestarter]

"Sure," Charlie says, and repeats the gesture.

Fire follows her fingers.



Yeah, that's not gonna get old anytime soon.

[walking_napalm]

Liz eyes the fire speculatively, and she pulls off her right glove and rolls up her sleeve, business-like.

(Her mouth is set just a little bit tighter, almost imperceptible.)

"I've never actually run into any fire that wasn't the regular kind or, you know, mine," she says. "Besides people here.

"I kind of want to see if I'm all the way fireproof."

She holds her bare hand up; glances at Charlie for permission.

[ladyfirestarter]

"...Huh," says Charlie, clearly struck by the idea. "That's ... that'll be interesting to find out. Hang on, though, let me see --"

She concentrates for a moment, and the exuberant fire wreathing around her hand sinks down, draws inward, shrinks to a single dancing flame like that of a candle.

"There," she says. "Try now?"

[walking_napalm]

It feels weird, being close by when Charlie does that.

(And Liz feels a twinge of jealousy, too, seeing that pinpoint control, but she suppresses it.)

Liz watches the small flame, for a second, and then she touches the flame with the tip of a finger, just quickly.



She holds her palm over the single flame for several seconds (her own fire feeling like it ignites deep in her bones; her expression tightens and her skin flashes translucent for a split second, the way that it does when she lights up, but the blue flames stay within her).

She holds her hand up toward Charlie, illustrative.

There's not a mark on her palm.

[ladyfirestarter]

Charlie's smile spreads slowly to a full grin.

"How about that," she says softly. "How about that."

[walking_napalm]

Liz half-smiles. "You want to give it a shot?" She wiggles her fingers.