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Disclaimer: I don't own Sky High.
Warren brings it up a few days later.
"Mira - we make a good team."
"I know, Warren," she says, somehow both defeated and anxious at once. A good team. She loves him.
"We could - if you want, you could come out with me, sometimes," he offers, stumbling over this more than he ever did in their romantic life. He didn't bumble his words this much even on their first date.
She doesn't know what to say. What can she say?
"Mira - I know you didn't want this. I know it scares you - but you're so good at this. We work so well together. You were the one who saved all those people, Mira, not me. I might not have made it if you hadn't been there."
He's grabbed her hand, trying to convince her, earnest and beautiful. She rubs her thumb along the back of his hand, looking down.
"Mira-"
"Fuck," she says, halfway angry, halfway lost. "Fuck, Warren, I love you."
That shuts him up. She is glaring at him now, daring him to say anything. He is looking at her, wide-eyed and surprised, like that was the last thing he expected her to say. She starts to pull her hand away, starts to wave away what she said like they could just forget it, but that's when he unfreezes, lunging across their chairs to kiss her urgently, like a drowning man.
He draws back to breathe, and they are both panting and flushed and his lip is bleeding so she can taste his blood in her mouth, and she wants to fuck him right here on her carpet.
"I love you too," he pants, stealing another kiss, and another, until they do, in fact end up making love on the carpet.
He holds her tight enough that her ribs creak, and she presses as much skin to his as she can, feeling him against her back, solid and warm and beautiful. Their legs are tangled with each other, and she isn't sure where her hair ends and his begins.
"I did it for you," she says, "Not for them."
He kisses her shoulder. "I know."
"I get to choose my own name," she says. "None of this sidekick bullshit."
"You mean no booty skirt?"
She arches back into him, feeling him stir against her.
"Not out there," she purrs, and she can feel his laugh ripple through his diaphragm, his chest, his abs.
"We're partners," he promises, and she nods, weighing her next words carefully.
"Partners," she says, carefully, softly. She can feel him still against her, suddenly holding her like she might break.
"Really?" He breathes, voice quiet on the shell of her ear. She squirms around until she's facing him, mouth to mouth, eye to eye.
"Where else am I going to get someone dumb enough to put up with me?" She asks, not even half joking. He kisses her, probably mostly to shut her up.
"No clashing colors," he warns, and she laughs.
"How can I possibly clash with black?"
He growls at her and then they're kissing, and it's amazing how much sex the two of them manage to have in such a short about of time.