Pepper
In what I'd discovered was an Antarctic facility, it took surprisingly little time for the resident technological experts to get the power back up and running. I had to give it to them, these S.T.A.R. personnel were quite efficient. Thankfully, they hadn't had to clean up the mangled beast which had crashed through their roof: it had begun to fade, like a mirage, and now only the blood was left to mop up. The wasp-like drones milling about the ceiling had set themselves to the task of repairing the roof, and were making good time.
Sure, I could have helped. But my powers hadn't been employed in quite a while, and I was feeling pretty strung-out from jumping headlong back into using them. Whilst the petite head scientist (named Baker, if I understood correctly) walked amongst her personnel issuing orders, her ponytail bobbing as she went, Cyborg had been sent to look me over. He had that apparent look of amazement on his face that my arms were still perfectly fine after their transformations. They always did, but it was just so endearing on his half-mechanical features. Thankfully, the reflex test distracted him from how my cheeks were starting to heat up in embarrassment; the fur covering my face certainly helped.
All of the tests were soon finished, but Cyborg decided not to walk off and leave me. No, rather, he sat beside me on the back of the console which had been upended by the battle with Nuuur. My face had really burned when I realized just what a miserable job I'd done at containing the battle's radius of destruction, but I digress. Cyborg gave me a look with those two mismatched eyes, one a glowing glassy red, one so beautifully human, and I knew what the question would be. It nearly took my powers to keep me calm enough to talk.
The subject of my powers was what I began to go into detail about, with Cyborg. "It's basically witchcraft," I explained, "illuminated to me by the relic, enhanced by the alien technology. I can multiply my cells and strategically mutate myself in order to suit the situation. Only the materials which exist in my own body are available for use, but that still leaves me a lot of options. I also digest food better, process oxygen better, and generally, my body just works better than a normal human." I don't know why I flexed my bicep just then. It honestly made me feel a bit more embarrassed than before.
Meanwhile, Cyborg gave me that self-assured smile, and my damn heart skipped a beat. Why did he have to be so cute? Secretly, I kind of knew it couldn't work between us. Sure, I had human female genitalia, and not hyena female genitalia - that would have been a dealbreaker anywhere, any time - but I wasn't even sure if he had the equipment. But was I really so vain as to make those things the only ones that mattered? Was I really going to deny feelings which made me so, so alive, just over an impossibility of sex?
Whilst I was having this very bawdy but meaningful debate in my head, Cyborg had begun speaking. I flapped my hands defensively; "I um! I'm sorry, Cyborg, could you run that by me again?" His chuckle made me shift around where I sat, just a bit: he had such a nice laugh. He explained once again that since winter was coming in Antarctica, the personnel were going to lock up the base and take the S.T.A.R. transports out. He wanted to know if we could head back to Jump City to meet his team, before the rest of the bounty hunters.
I tried to shove the similarity to a girl meeting her boyfriend's family away, far away, where it couldn't make me blush any more than I already was. "It would be my honor," I said, and I immediately winced at the overly dramatic phrasing. It worked for Cyborg, though, and he sprang up with a hearty whoop to help with cleaning the mess. I smiled after him, marvelling at just how much vim and vigor he had.
So engrossed was I in Cyborg that another figure sitting down by my side nearly made me jump. Baker sighed heavily, slipping one foot out of its shoe to scratch it against the back of her other leg. She was short and whip-thin, and had an aura of seriousness about her. Right now, as she took off her orange shades to rub at the eyes beneath, Baker's years began to show. Shadows crowded beneath her eyes, making her look all the more weary. The orange tinted shades went back on however, acting like a shield and mask for her. If I'd never seen her remove the glasses, I would have never felt the concern I felt right then.
"I'm tired, Miss Doolittle," Baker grumbled, leaning against me. She slung her legs around to the other side of the console, abandoning her other sandal with its counterpart, so that she could lay her head on my shoulder more comfortably. More comfortably for her, but I wasn't complaining, necessarily. I couldn't help but admit to myself with a smile that when she wasn't on full attack mode, she wasn't half-bad to look at. Her eyes were closed, but her brow furrowed and her lips pursed as she thought deeply. Hands rested on her abdomen, all of Baker's fingers were woven together, save for her index fingers tapping together. I shouldn't have dwelled on it, but I couldn't help but think to myself:
Damn, she's cute.
I let her rest against me for a while, and she took full advantage of it. By the time Baker had awoken, night had fallen. She swore quietly, but when she saw that the drones had finished repairing the ceiling damage and that the blood was now just a faint discoloration on the floor, it was obvious that there wasn't much to be pissed about. The Section Head blew air out of her lips in what seemed a vain attempt to keep up her anger. It wasn't working.
"You know, you might never see me again, after this," Baker whispered. I bobbed my head, not quite agreeing nor disagreeing with her. "I really, really want to learn more about you. And I'm not trying to be a callous scientist. I just mean that...You were impressive. You kept my men safe, and you kept me safe. Thank you for that, by the way." She shifted back around to look at me, leaning back a bit to take the full sight in. "I hate long good byes, so just tell me whether or not you intend to see me ever again. I won't lie - it would make me a lot happier if you'd only say good bye like you were coming back. And, tell me more about what you saw. Out in the stars." She couldn't help but lean back against me.
For a while, I hummed in thought. "Well, I can sum it up in a little story from what I've seen out in space," I said quietly. Baker gave me a little shove, but I snickered, "No, no, I promise, you'll like it. They were a race of fish people that could swim in an aether, covering their homeworld. Their scales flashed and flickered, and they occasionally half-disappeared in the aether. So, a lot of people call them 'illusionary merfolk.'" Good. I had Baker listening. "Now, this was a big planet, a lot bigger than Earth," I continued. "They're a very emotionally invested race, let's say. If they have happy relationships, they have healthy bodies. They couldn't bear it if they had to say good bye to a friend or lover forever.
"In order to make sure they can find each other, they swap a little bit of their soul for a little bit of the other's soul," I murmured, shifting to look at Baker as she sat up again to stare back. I cradled the back of her head, enjoying a look that wasn't entirely surprised, and said with a smile, "They taught me how to share my soul with another. It goes a little bit like this." And I kissed her. I didn't intend to slip in my tongue, so I was surprised when Baker took the opportunity to do so. Meanwhile, to anyone watching - and for Baker's sakes, I hope no one was - they would have seen a rippling glow coursing between our bodies, somehow within and without at the same time. To us, it felt like being wrapped in a warm blanket while it was raining outside on a Sunday in the frigid grip of December. Exactly what it felt like.
I'll never understand how people can kiss for so long. Maybe we start breathing through our ears for the process or something. When we at last separated, we both wiped our mouths clean. I was very happy that I'd thoroughly rinsed Nuuur's blood out of my teeth before kissing a woman who had so quickly earned my admiration.
Baker smirked, and tried her hardest not to laugh. "Kiss me when I ask for it," she chastised me halfheartedly.
"Then I expect you to ask politely," I shot back cheekily.