Done for a challenge on Gatchamania dot net. Written to go along with Springie's wonderful Autumn Love artwork. The image can be found on her deviantArt page. springie . deviantart / Autumn - Love - 555817866 (remember to remove the spaces and put .com after the deviantart).
I own neither the characters nor the original artwork, I just give them things to do...
The flames of the bonfire flick at the darkening evening sky, roaring as the logs fueling it crack and break apart while being consumed. Around the fiery spectacle, crowds have begun to gather, drawn by the cheery glow. Summer was ending, fall taking hold and bringing with it a chill crispness to the air.
Watching from a distance, a group of five figures in winged suits take in the sight, smiles tugging at their lips. This was the result of their doing; their protection today meant that instead of a town in flames, the local youth could celebrate the changing seasons on the sandy beach. Longing to join the frivolity, they know that such is not their lot in life. One by one, the teammates take a last look at the festivities, turn slowly, and melt like shadows into the trees lining the secluded cove.
Before long, only two are left; still standing, still watching, still yearning to shed their uniforms and blend into the crowd.
"C'mon, Princess, we should get going before someone sees us." His voice is soft, trying not to break the tranquility of the moment.
She moves slowly, turning her body toward him, her face still basking in the glow of the firelight. After a long moment, she breathes deeply and brings her head around to find him watching her intently, his face a jumble of emotions that even she can't completely untangle. Sadness, longing, hope, desire, regret; they are all there along with something else that she can't quite place, fear maybe? She couldn't be sure since fear was not something she'd ever seen from her commander. She opens her mouth to respond, to acknowledge him, but a knot forms in her throat and she knows speech will prove impossible. Nodding slowly, she breaks eye contact, steels herself for the trek back to their warship, the trip back to base, debriefing, waiting for the next attack.
Mark watches as Princess lowers her gaze to his boots and can feel the resignation flowing from her in palpable waves. Maybe, just this once, he can let down his guard for a brief moment, pretend that they were not who they were, imagine that they were merely two teenagers at a bonfire. Before he can change his mind or she can turn away, he places a hand on her shoulder.
Raising her head, Princess risks meeting his gaze once more. "Mark?"
He doesn't answer; instead he looks all around them, pushing the limits of his cerebonics to make sure they are unobserved. Returning his focus to her, his right hand still on her shoulder, his left arm sweeps in a wide arc, the command "Trans-mute" uttered quietly. Lights swirl around them, lost in the glimmering reflections of the fire and suddenly, they stand facing one another without helmets and visors between them.
Princess opens her mouth, a question poised on her tongue, but he shakes his head and holds a finger to her lips. "No words, Princess. They will have to wait until the war is over. This will just have to be a moment outside of time." As his words fade, he leans down, eyes closing, hand sliding around to cup her head, fingers tangling in her hair, lips brushing hers ever so gently.
The moment is like magic, timeless and instantaneous at once. And then, just as quickly as it started, it's over. He is standing rigidly before her once more, his hand replaced on her shoulder as he transforms them back into the winged warriors of G-Force.
"We need to go now before Jason sends the hounds to find us." A mischievous twinkle glints in his eye as he turns to head back to their ship and their duty. She reaches up, caressing her lips in the spot that his had touched, and smiles. They begin walking away from the beach, through the trees and away from their private moment, promises bright in the air around them like the falling leaves. Swept up in the possibilities before her, it takes her three strides to realize that he is still holding her hand, the realization bringing a smile to her face that puts the bonfire to shame.