"We love you, you know."
Maz has never heard SheZap sound more serious, and it feels just like the time he realized Guy and SheZap could sound exactly the same, the way they said certain things. The way he imagined them saying certain things, too, like—
"Did you hear me?" SheZap's back to crooning, but the green coloring the face Maz would otherwise see as Guy's is a bit darker than normal, at least as well as he can see, and gloveless fingertips search for his cheek.
Maz nods, and accidentally nods into that hand. Guy and SheZap share a lot. Before all this Maz had expected SheZap to be slimy or something, but at the moment Guy might as well be cupping his cheek, and shifting closer to him on his bed, and laughing, but there's something wrong with his voice, just a twinge, and he's SheZow for some reason but not really in-costume and he's green—
SheZap had first visited him on a cloudy day, at dusk, so his room wasn't pitch black, but shadowy enough for easy entry and exit. SheZap didn't even try to grab him from the shadows or really scare him at all, just materialized when he was out of his room and was sitting sprawled across his bed reading one of his mags upside-down, like Guy liked to do, when he came back.
It was hard to admit even now, but he hadn't been afraid at all.
SheZap's kissing him now, and barely giving him a chance to kiss back. It's just like he'd always imagined kissing Guy, really, except a bit too hungry and urgent and possessive. It's always like that, with SheZap. A little too hostile, too rough, too afraid. But something undoubtedly just like his best friend laced into every word and movement. If he stops thinking for just a second, he can almost forget he's just kissing a slimy clone and not the real Guy.
SheZap knows that, Maz thinks. He can tell by the careful silence and stillness. This isn't the SheZap that laughs and makes fun of him and bites and scratches and tries to get Maz to fight. This is something different, some sort of appeasing gesture. SheZap's done this before, and it always ends in some small thing reminding Maz of who he's really with. They both know that anything that breaks the illusion will slam the wall back between them.
He knows from experience he could probably do anything to SheZap without repercussion, and that probably disturbs him the most. Body language turns from carefully malleable to desperate ragdoll almost imperceptibly, and even though he's just seeing what it was like to hold Guy or rest his bare hands on his stomach or accidentally (or not-so-accidently) tickle him and feel him smile against his mouth, there's a definite line that he can't see at all but could cross any minute.
A wave of nausea rolls over him and he pushes SheZap as gently as he can, trying to say "Off," without sounding like he's ordering around a dog. SheZap pauses for a moment and then sits up and moves completely away from him, knowing from experience exactly what "off" means.
"You never answered me."
"What?"
"I said we love you."
"Okay."
SheZap doesn't look surprised or upset, but "Okay?" comes out more hurt than Maz has ever heard Guy's voice be.
He shrugs, but it's more like a wince. SheZap certainly retained Guy's ability to make him feel bad with the tiniest reaction. "I could kind of tell."
"Yeah, but who's doing something about it?"
"Just because you're rushing things doesn't make you better than him, like, at all."
SheZap pauses, then nods, like Maz's words were just constructive criticism and not probably the most biting remark he could've made.
"I still don't know what you see in that baby. All those morals and patience and trust." 'Trust' is spit out like it's the dirtiest word in the world, and it just might be to SheZap.
"Well since you're, like, all the worst parts of him and I still like you, I guess that proves him right."
SheZap laughs. "You're cute." Maz knows SheZap never really hopes for anything, none of that transferred over from Guy, so he's a little surprised when the next words come out tired and kind of sad. "Real cute, you two."