A/N: This story is published as part of 10 Years of Wrecking, a celebration of Wreck-It Ralph's 10th anniversary, and is based on an art piece (which is this fic's cover art) by my friend CrimsonFireLord on AO3. Thanks for the collaboration! If you want to see the full uncropped image please visit his blog cr1ms0nlord on tumblr; the picture is attached to a reblog of this fic from my tumblr account bashfulgnome.

She'd just about finished her ramen, but he hadn't even noticed.

The cool early-evening breeze in the shady outdoor patio ruffled the awnings of the shops and hotels along the main street in Extreme EZ Livin' 2. Felix had told her when she met up with him that it might be a little chilly, and insisted on lending her one of his shirts for an extra layer over her tank top just in case. The little button-down uniform wasn't exactly a comfortable fit, but the thought alone warmed her up just fine. It was pretty cute that he'd forgotten the height difference, too.

Tamora watched Felix struggling with the noodles, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, clearly unaccustomed to this kind of utensil. The chopsticks were smooth and free of splinters (a testament to the quality of the restaurant) but this didn't exactly help him grip his food. He'd spent the entire meal trying to make sure everything went perfectly. She was accustomed to chaos and disappointment–surely nothing could've SNAFU'd a lunch date that badly–but he seemed hyperfocused on making sure he didn't spill anything, or splash any hot broth, or make any noises.

Watching his consideration in overdrive merged affection and pity, how he cared about doing his best for her so much that he suppressed his little quirks and nervous habits. Not that it could've have been possible for him to even do anything in this situation that would drive her off; even when Felix was completely out of his element he always meant well.

It was something that attracted her to him, that even this early on in their relationship he tried so hard and valued what they had started building so much, but she couldn't help feeling that she was killing him somehow. Sprites passing through Game Central and hiding fearful glances, making a hole at her approach...did he sometimes see her that way too? Was he just better at hiding it?

If she stayed too long, would she erode what made him...him? The sweetness, patience, loyalty–how could he stay in one piece? He was used to such a simple life; how could she be anything other than too much?

Tamora felt her own grip on her wrist tighten. The thought that eventually he'd be disappointed–or worse, hurt–if he got into this any deeper...burned and scratched inside her head. Just looking at him, a tenderness welled inside her chest that compelled her to keep Felix safe, to make sure his happiness wasn't wasted. She couldn't deny her own feelings for him of course, but he'd fallen hard and fast, riding higher than a past-midnight BurgerTime customer. Whatever image he had of her would have to shatter under its own weight eventually, in spite of them both.

And still, what she'd been through tore at the scars whenever they had started to close, the cuts even deeper with the knowledge that it technically wasn't "real", never had been. That barrier was invisible but solid as any boundary at the edge of the map. It amazed her that the warmth he radiated was even able to pass through that wall, or that she'd turned out to be capable of sending any of her own back out towards him.

Maybe she was healing, the wounds opening less often and closing a little more tightly and quickly each time. Whether it was at his expense she couldn't tell.

Chancing a peek over at Felix, she noticed his cheeks had flushed from the heat of the dish. He lifted his head from the bowl, looked around, and made eye contact with her as he became reacquainted with his surroundings.

"Still hot?"

His face went blank for a moment before he answered with a delayed startle.

"Oh yes ma'am...the ramen! The ramen's still pipin' hot! Had to take a break or I would've steamed my face right off!"

The corners of her mouth quirked into an unguarded smile. She could listen to that voice read a technical manual.

In a fit of nervous laughter Felix glanced back down at his chopsticks, still awkwardly adorned with a tangle of ramen–the broth dripping onto the table and his pants. Panicked, he took one bite and inhaled, pulling the noodles in with a loud, unintended slurp that bugged his eyes out in surprise.

Something in her chest twisted itself loose. Before she could think, a gale of laughter blew out from deep inside her. She leaned her forehead into one hand and gripped the table with the other, the crashing double-wave of that goofy visual and sound pummeling her previous train of thought and knocking her off balance.

Felix scrambled for a clump of napkins to dry his face and table before that...beautiful sound pealed in his ears. He'd heard chuckles and snorts from Tamora before, but never this lovely outburst of uninhibited happiness.

He reached out a hand to clasp over hers in affection and felt the tickle of an oncoming laugh himself. Unfortunately, he didn't make it past a sharp breath before being immediately reminded that all the spice had settled into that last mouthful of his meal.

"Tha-haaaaat" he wheezed, "wa-haaas a mistake!"

His violent coughs finally shook her out of her laughing fit as she watched him down the rest of his drink in one shot.

"Felix..." she panted, "I-I'm so sorry, the…! The sound just–I couldn't help it, are you okay?"

"Whew…oh my land… I'm just dandy! Nothing a cold drink couldn't wash down. 'M sorry I made such a mess–"

"Don't be. Haven't laughed like that in ages."

She put a hand across his back, letting it linger on its way, and leaned in to kiss him on the nose. Felix didn't bend, or break, or recoil. He just laid his hand atop hers on his shoulder, and leaned into her with an even redder face and contented sigh.

"I'm glad I got to hear it, Tammy."

It was such a sincere response that she couldn't bring herself to hold eye contact.

"Y'know, next time don't fuss so much. You're gonna need to save that stress for everything else I put you through."

"I'm not jokin', you have a wonderful laugh. I wanna make you do that more often."

"I'm not joking either."

Felix paused. He looked around again and lowered his voice to just above a whisper.

"This isn't about dinner, is it?" He fidgeted with his hammer, running his thumb over the head's curve. "I know I've been a bit jumpy lately but...I just don't wanna step on any toes. You don't have to tell me anythin' if you don't want to, but I won't be goin' anywhere if you do either. I can handle it, I promise."

Tamora pulled him a little closer.

She'd eaten the stalest crackers and ugliest MREs the service had to offer, but he cooked homemade soup, chili, and pies for her anyway.

She'd show up at her game's exit covered in blood and grime from work and gotten into some brutal fistfights, but he still politely took off his hat and kissed her hands anyway.

She'd learned to manage the lingering mental scars and nightmares, but he did his best to understand and take care of whatever he could to put her at ease anyway.

Felix may have been a lover rather than a fighter, but if he was tough enough to stay by her side...well, maybe she didn't have anything to be afraid of. All those things Tamora loved about him weren't just painted on. She couldn't wear away something that filled him from the inside out, not any more than he could ever take away the fire that'd forged her relentless spirit in everything she undertook. He'd only ever stoked it.

"I'll take that chance if you will," she finally replied with a smile. "Maybe I can return the favor."

He kissed her knuckles and gazed up into her eyes with that entranced look that always settled across his features in moments like these.

"You already have..."

That settled it. He wasn't about to be one more thing that her past would take away from her.