The conversation that we all want Sasha and Milla to have after the events in the Rhombus of Ruin.
Work Text:
The rhythmic thrumming of the Pelican's engine filled the cabin as its exhausted passengers eventually fell silent. Sasha had set the autopilot to Headquarters and once they were well clear of the Rhombus's pull he allowed himself to slouch back in his seat, his normally rigid posture relaxing under the weight of recent events. He glanced over to his partner in the co-pilot seat, who looked equally drained. While he'd set their flight course and established that the Pelican was in good working order, she had made sure that the children and Truman were as secure and comfortable as possible before helping Morry out of that ridiculous merman tail. She'd even managed to procure some peanuts from the in-flight snack supply for the rodents: Harold the rat had taken up residence in the overhead bin with the stowaway squirrel, and Sasha made a mental note to once again submit his request for a Whispering Rock underground jet hanger to Headquarters. It really was a wise investment, he thought, with a tinge of annoyance. Milla met his eyes and gave him a weak but genuine smile. "Well, darling," she said, "that was quite an adventure, wasn't it?"
"Yes. One for the list."
In truth, he didn't want to think about just how big of an adventure it had been. "Near-disaster" was probably a more accurate description. If it hadn't been for Razputin's impressive mental powers and more distant physical proximity to the mass of psilirium than the rest of them, they might very well still be trapped in their personal prisons. For Sasha's part, the delusion had been relatively pleasant, albeit a little disappointing when it finally ended. But he knew without having to ask that Milla had not been so lucky. She had recovered from it well, but he still felt compelled to ask, "Are you alright?"
"Yes, dear, just a bit tired. You?"
"There does not appear to be any persistent physical or psychic damage."
They sat quietly for a bit and the air between them began to grow heavy with their thoughts, little swirling clouds of psychic energy emanating from each of them, occasionally meeting in the middle with a few brief sparks before quickly retreating. There was an unspoken question, a memory of an earlier occurrence that they had not yet had time to revisit in the chaos that had followed. For the first time since it had happened, Sasha thought back to the crash that had landed them in the Rhombus. His gut clenched as he recalled the complete panic that consumed him when it became clear that the Pelican's engines had failed and there was nothing he could do to prevent their plummeting into the ocean and to what he had been certain was their deaths. He didn't have words to adequately express the guilt, terror and despair that had rattled and finally cracked open the cube in his mind. The overwhelming feeling of failure from his inability to protect the four additional lives on board, the anger at himself for arrogantly disregarding his young protege's warning and leading them headlong into danger. And finally, the utter desperation and anguish he had felt when he realized that he would die without telling his partner how he truly felt about her.
He had been nurturing an affection and admiration for her for years, a slow-growing tenderness that he eventually recognized as love. The realization had alarmed him, and he tamped it down into the deepest part of his heart and mind. It would not do, Milla was his work partner and - he had finally admitted to himself - his closest friend. He would not risk rocking the boat, so to speak. They had been through so much together, so many dangerous missions, injuries and near misses… but he'd never truly believed it was the end until that moment when they were falling out of the sky and she'd looked at him with wide, terrified eyes. It was as if a vise had tightened around his heart and he suddenly felt the tragic waste of never telling her, and he could not bear the thought of meeting his end with that love kept a secret, for the truth of it to die with him. This revelation had given him the clarity of mind to reach out for her, despite being seated too far away to make contact, to call her by her given name and beg her to hear him over the violent shaking of the jet, the screaming of the alarms. The last thing he'd registered was her panicked face as her hand reached for his, and then there was a blinding white flash before his world went black.
Yet miraculously, here they were, alive and whole still. Sasha stared out the windshield of the Pelican, deep in thought. He'd been about to confess, to place his heart on the table regardless of whether or not she reciprocated his love. He thought that perhaps she might, but while he was an expert in many things, detecting the romantic feelings of others was not among them, so he had remained silent. It suddenly struck him as cowardly that he had needed to threat of eminent death to push him to tell her. It had always seemed like there would be time later, later, always later, and whenever he'd even begun to consider acknowledging his feelings, he would quickly convince himself that it wasn't the right time yet and would squash them back down. But how much time did they really have left? He did some quick calculating in his head and admitted that sooner or later the odds would finally turn against them and he would once again feel that anguish and despair of believing he'd run out of time. Logically, what difference did it make if one of them were to die tomorrow or years from now? Either way the end result was the same: an opportunity missed because of his cowardice, followed by inevitable regret. He had made his decision when he thought it was his last chance, and he could see no reason to change his mind now that his last day on earth had been mercifully postponed. She deserved to know the truth before that day came.
Despite his certainty of what he needed to do, he was nervous and felt his cheeks began to flush. It felt like someone was trying to pyrokenesis his face. One way or the other, things were about to change…. but when he chanced another look at her he realized that things had already changed. Milla wasn't stupid. She surely understood that there was only one thing that could come after what he'd said to her as they spiraled towards oblivion, only one reason why he would reach for her and say what he did. He tentatively extended a small tendril of thought, searching for any feelings she was radiating, to inquire, to investigate, to see if he could discern any hint of what she was thinking. Her mind was receptive to his probing and he detected from her nervous expectation, hopefulness and a tiny bit of desperation. 'Tell me.' she seemed to say. 'Just tell me, Sasha, please.' It bolstered his courage. This was it, it could not be put off any longer.
He got up from his chair and moved towards her, quickly checking to see that the other passengers were occupied - while he wasn't ashamed of what he was about to say, he still preferred not to have an audience. Raz and Truman were fast asleep, having recently endured the most taxing mental strain. Lili was staring out the window with an unread magazine in her lap and Morry seemed to be dozing with headphones on, no doubt listening to some god-awful music. Sasha seated himself in the chair closest to Milla so that they could speak in softer tones, but no words would come. "Sasha," she finally whispered, looking at him once again with wide eyes. "Were you going to tell me something before… before the accident?"
"Yes." he nodded. Her hand was in her lap, and he reached over to take it in his own. The contact was electrifying even through their gloves.
Her breath hitched at his touch and she whispered even more softly, "What was it, darling?"
He took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice steady. "That I have been in love with you for many years. I'm afraid that it took the threat of immediate death to give me the courage to say so, and I do not want to wait until the next time that threat occurs to try telling you again." He waited for her reply, and did not have to wait long. She squeezed his hand and pure joy transformed her features. He had never felt her mind radiating such happiness before and her love washed over him like liquid sunshine and a weight lifted off of his heart, as if she had TK'd it right out of him. He had gotten so used to it, that heavy secret, that its sudden absence surprised him. It was definitely a welcome surprise, though, as was her leaning forward to lightly stroke his jaw in one hand and touch her lips gently to his. It was a soft, sweet kiss, laced with the promise of much more later on. His eyelids fluttered shut but all too soon she broke away and beamed at him.
"Oh Sasha," she whispered. "I love you, too, darling. So much, for so long." Much as he wanted to take her in his arms right then and there, it was not the time nor place. Out of the corner of one eye he saw that Lili was now looking at them with wide, excited eyes, and as powerfully as he wanted Milla, he did possess enough dignity and self control to resist making out with her in front of his students, his coworker and his boss. Instead he returned her grin and squeezed her hand even tighter.
"Shall we continue this conversation more privately?" he murmured, and she nodded. He was pleased to see that the blush in her cheeks matched his own before he stood up and returned to his seat. The rest of the flight would be torture, and if not for everyone else on board he would have teleported the both of them back to his bedroom that instant and let the Pelican make its way to Headquarters via autopilot, or else crash into the ocean a second time. He really didn't care either way. But alas, he had to content himself with soaking up the love, excitement and relief that swirled in the air between them as they made eyes at one another and allowed their little tendrils of thought and feeling to twine together. There was more he wanted to do than just talk, however, and apparently she felt the same because a rather passionate image flashed through his mind, searing his brain and causing his body to tingle. A rush of heat consumed him as he realized that the image had come from her, and he couldn't stop the edge of his mouth from curling up when he saw her take her lower lip between her teeth and raise a teasing brow at him. His heart beat faster and although he was not a man generally prone to exaggeration, at that moment it really did feel like this damn flight was trying to kill him a second time. But if this time it was successful, at least he would die happy.