TITLE: Twenty Kisses That Were Bad Ideas (And Eleven That Weren't)
RATING: M
WORDS: 11,758
WARNINGS: Language, adult themes, some violence, and some scenes where the kisses (or actions which hint toward something further) could be read as dub-con or non-con. Proceed at own risk.
SUMMARY: What it says on the tin! 31 separate ficlets, each one featuring at least one kiss.
NOTES: Er, so this was all written over the past couple of days, and is largely un-beta'd. Mudget is my usual Captain Planet beta, but I wanted this to be a surprise for her birthday! Happy birthday, dude! :)
Please note that each ficlet is numbered with a pairing at the top. Not all pairings/kisses are romantic, nor do they necessarily indicate a romantic relationship.
A mixture of gen, het, slash, and f/slash. Seriously, there are so many different pairings here, it's kind of ridiculous. Some pairings are featured more than once. Some pairings only get "bad idea" kisses, some only get "good idea" kisses, and others get a mixture.
The kisses are all mixed up, with good and bad happening at random intervals. Hopefully each ficlet is clear on whether or not its kiss is a good idea or a bad idea. ;)
Thanks to plunderer01 for her suggestions!
- 01 – Looten Plunder/Barbara Blight – 01 -
"This is exactly why I said I'd never work with you again, Plunder!" Blight slammed the door behind her, but Plunder pushed it open, striding after her, looking as furious as Blight sounded.
"It's not my fault!" he snapped, jogging a little to keep up with her. "It was supposed to be foolproof!"
Blight snorted and stopped at her lab desk, scooping scattered papers and document folders into a large briefcase with one sweep of her arm. "I'm getting out of here before the cops show up. Or worse, the Planeteers."
Plunder glanced nervously to the door. "Listen," he said seriously, "I don't know how those brats were tipped off this time. Everything looks legitimate on paper!"
"Thanks to me!" Blight snarled.
"Thanks to MAL," Plunder said agreeably, not realising it was the wrong thing to say. He took a hasty step back as Blight glared at him over her shoulder. A test tube rolled from her desk and fell to the floor, shattering into pieces.
Plunder cleared his throat and adjusted his tie nervously. "Thanks to you," he corrected.
Blight snapped her briefcase closed. "The Planeteers are on their way, which means you messed up somehow."
"Now, that's hardly fair," Plunder said, trying to sound reasonable. "I don't see how they could have known unless the paperwork wasn't in order..."
Blight stepped toward him, a gloved finger pointing dangerously at his face. "So it's my fault, is it?"
Plunder gave a nervous chuckle. "I didn't say that, did I?"
"You'd better not," Blight said softly.
Plunder cleared his throat again, too nervous to look away. Blight's hair fell in disarray, loose strands curling and separating in the humid air, hanging over her face and hiding the scar on her skin. Her visible eye glittered up at him, icy blue, and he could see every furious thought running through her head.
He knew telling her that it wasn't his fault – couldn't possibly be – was a bad idea.
So he leaned down and pressed his mouth against hers, kissing her, firm, warm...
She pulled away and smacked her briefcase into the side of his head, knocking him down with one clean blow.
"Ha!" she barked. "If you think that's the way to apologise, you've got another thing coming." She strode toward the door, clutching her briefcase under one arm. "Don't call me again, unless it's to say you've bought me an island somewhere."
Plunder groaned and rubbed the side of his head, looking up just in time to see the door slam shut behind Blight's fleeing figure.
- 02 – Wheeler/Linka – 02 -
"What smells so good?" Wheeler walked into the kitchen with his nose in the air and his eyes half-closed, breathing in dreamily.
Linka carefully slid a baking tray onto the counter, her hands protected by two large oven mitts. "Ginger kisses," she said happily, slipping the thick gloves off her hands.
Wheeler grinned and peered over her shoulder at the neatly-lined cookies on the tray. "Oh yeah? You like ginger kisses?"
"I love them," Linka said enthusiastically. "Especially when they are still warm."
"Oh, yeah," Wheeler agreed, cupping his hands around her hips. He stepped closer to her, the heady scent of ginger and baking dough mingling with the flowery scent of Linka's hair.
Linka had stiffened under his touch. She turned her head and stared up at him in surprise. "What are you doing?"
"Giving you a ginger kiss." Wheeler pressed his mouth against Linka's. For the briefest second, he thought he felt her lean back against him – until her elbow slammed back into his ribs.
He coughed and bent double, staggering back a few steps. "Jesus!" he wheezed.
"I was not talking about those ginger kisses, Yankee!" Linka said sternly. She turned back to the tray and started transferring her baked goods to a cooling rack. "Just for that, you do not get any cookies, either."
- 03 – Kwame/Gi – 03 -
"Here." Gi held a thermometer towards Kwame, and he opened his mouth obediently.
"You do not need to make a fuss," he said, managing to slide the tube under his tongue and keep it relatively still, even when speaking.
"I like making a fuss," Gi answered lightly, pulling his shoulders forward gently and fluffing the pillow behind him. "Are you feeling better?"
Kwame nodded, but seemed relieved to sink back against the arm of the couch and the pile of pillows Gi had arranged around him.
Gi grinned and straightened the blanket over his legs. "Are you bored yet?"
Kwame chuckled, but it erupted into a heavy coughing fit. The thermometer fell to his lap. Gi picked it up, patting his shoulder gently. "Want a drink?"
He took the glass of water from her gratefully, and obediently slipped the thermometer under his tongue again when he was done.
Gi sat beside him, perched on the edge of the couch. She rested the back of her hand against his cheek. "You still feel pretty warm," she said softly, her brow furrowing with worry. "It'll be a few more days before you can join us on our missions again, huh?"
Kwame gave a soft sigh. "I suppose."
Gi's smile was a wry one. "I'll be glad to have you back," she said. "Not only because we all miss you, but because as a patient, you're terrible."
He chuckled again and closed his eyes briefly, leaning his cheek against her hand. "I will be glad to get better," he murmured.
"Well, I'm working on it," Gi answered. Her thumb stroked over his temple, and after a moment she leaned forward and pressed her lips softly against his warm forehead. "You've still got a fever," she breathed.
Kwame closed his eyes, feeling Gi's breath on his skin. "Perhaps now it will go down," he said, his fingers wrapping gently around her wrist, holding her hand to his face. "Now that you have kissed it better."
Gi grinned at him and kissed his brow again, once, twice, three times. "Can't hurt to try."
- 04 – Ma-Ti/Laura – 04 -
Ma-Ti tried not to think about the gleeful grin Wheeler had given him as the geo-cruiser had pulled away. His stomach was already a bundle of nerves – he didn't need Wheeler's over-excited presumptions and crude advice to add to it.
He held out a gloved hand and watched snowflakes drift down gently, sitting lightly upon the damp, wet wool. Each flake was tiny and delicate. He wondered how many individual flakes needed to fall in order to create such pretty surroundings. Yellowstone was blanketed in a smooth, even layer of pure white snow. It was almost blinding, and it still looked slightly dream-like and unnatural to Ma-Ti.
Caught up in his thoughts, Ma-Ti hadn't noticed Laura emerging from the house. She hurried through the snow, which was knee-deep, and called to him as she reached the front gate. "Ma-Ti!"
He jumped and smiled, waving to her before he started to push his way through the snow.
Laura's cheeks and nose were rosy with the cold. She beamed at him. "Your friends couldn't stay to say hello?" she asked, not really looking that put-out at all.
"It was just Wheeler," Ma-Ti answered, smiling at her. "He needs to get back to New York. We only have two days off."
"Well, I'm glad you're spending them with me," Laura said, looking shy all of a sudden. "I really loved having you here last time, and I was hoping that one day you'd come back, you know, because you did say at one point that Yellowstone was one of the prettiest places you'd ever seen..."
As Laura rattled on, her nerves turning into a rapid commentary of everything that had happened since Ma-Ti's visit, he became distracted by the snowflakes that drifted down slowly, sitting and melting in her hair and on the dark shoulders of her coat.
She paused to draw in a breath, and Ma-Ti noticed how wide her eyes were, and how her fingers fluttered and drummed across the top rail of the gate.
"Anyway," she said, slight laughter in her voice, "Renee said – remember Renee? She said she'd take us up to the wolf pen tomorrow so you can see how much the cubs have grown, because..." She trailed off, her voice dying in a soft squeak as Ma-Ti kissed her gently, firmly ignoring all the advice Wheeler had given to him on the journey.
Laura breathed a soft sigh through her nose, her breath wonderfully warm and close against Ma-Ti's cold cheek.
He smiled shyly at her. "I would like to do all of that," he said, picking up her conversation where it had dropped off. "But perhaps we could go inside?"
Laura blinked and then gave a laugh, tucking her hair behind her ears, looking a little flushed and self-conscious. "Of course," she said. She grinned at Ma-Ti and took his hand as he edged through the gate. "Good thing you kissed me," she said softly. "I might never have stopped talking, otherwise."
Ma-Ti grinned at her. "I will keep that in mind," he said.
Laura grinned back and squeezed his hand. "Good," she said. "I haven't seen you in ages, and I plan to talk a lot." She shrugged and kicked through a deep drift of snow, a smile on her face. "So, feel free to stop me at any time."
- 05 – Looten Plunder/Mame Slaughter – 05 -
Looten Plunder felt rather light-headed, recklessly confident, and extremely drunk. "One more!" he called, waving his wallet at the bartender. "And don't look at me like that." He smirked down at his newly-filled glass, silently toasting himself.
"What are you celebrating?"
Plunder looked to the woman who had just slung herself into the seat beside him. All dark hair and black, shiny eyes. An amused, curious smile creased her thin red mouth.
"I," Plunder said, his voice wet and thick, "am a genius." He raised his glass to her and took a hefty sip.
The woman smirked and leaned forward, her elbows on the bar. "Really?"
Plunder snorted, and almost erupted into a display of very unprofessional giggles. He managed to rein them in by clearing his throat several times.
"What line of work are you in?" the woman asked, her eyes roaming over Plunder's new suit.
He dusted his fingers carelessly over the lapel of his jacket. "I make a lot of money out of other people's stupidity," he said smugly. "What about you, lovely?" He tilted his glass toward her, amber liquid running down over his fingers.
The mysterious woman smirked again. Plunder thought it suited her.
"Pretty much the same thing," she said, and her voice was candid and honest. "There are a lot of stupid people in the world, and too many of 'em are rich."
Plunder chuckled and waved at the bartender, who was looking a little desperate to rid himself of his drunken patron.
"Another drink for the lady," Plunder said. He leaned forward, his breath wet with whiskey. "What's your name?"
"Mame," was the response, and one fine eyebrow arched up at him. "And I live up to my name, so be careful where you spill that drink."
Plunder tilted his glass toward his mouth again, chuckling darkly. "Looten," he said.
Mame smiled and raises her glass to him. "To stupidity," she said.
Looten clinked his glass against hers. "To money."
An hour later he could barely stand upright. Looten wobbled toward his shiny new car, Mame giggling under his arm.
"I just divorced my husband," she whispered, pulling Looten into the back seat. "Took him for all he was worth."
Plunder laughed and slid his hands under her shirt.
Mame's drunkenness led her away from confidence, toward melancholy. "I wish he'd given me a son, first," she breathed, closing her eyes and arching her hips up under Plunder's. "I've always wanted a son."
"Kids," Plunder muttered, his mouth against her neck. "Brats. Scum. Pains in the ass."
Mame smirked, her lashes fluttering. "I'll get a son one day," she said. "I'll name him Stalker. Stalker Slaughter."
Plunder snickered. "You're crueller than I am, lady." His hands stilled under her shirt. "But suddenly I'm thinkin'," he slurred, "that a drunken fumble in the back seat with a woman who desperately wants a kid is sort of a bad idea."
Mame wrapped her legs around Plunder's waist, his weight heavy and fumbling on top of her. The smell of alcohol seeped from his skin. "I've always been drawn to bad ideas," she whispered, and she cupped his face in her hands, drawing him down to kiss her.
He leaned into her, opening his mouth, tasting bourbon on her tongue. "You and your kid – Stalker – ever come lookin' for financial support, I'll feed you to sharks," he muttered.
Mame chuckled and closed her eyes. "Duly noted."
- 06 – Gi/Madam Mao – 06 -
Mao rolled her eyes as she set her eyes upon the Planeteer bound tightly to the chair. She looked back over her shoulder at Plunder. "Really?" she asked, sarcasm heavy in her voice. "Come on, Plunder, do you want to kill her, or keep her as a pet? Just toss her overboard already."
Gi bit her lip and tried to shake the blindfold off.
"I was planning to wait until we got a little further out to sea," Plunder drawled.
Mao pulled the blindfold away from Gi's eyes. "At least let the pretty little thing see," she said, thrusting out her lower lip in a display of mock sympathy.
"Ugh, it's you," Gi said in disgust, narrowing her eyes. "You're working with Plunder now?"
Mao smirked and bent down so she was eye level with Gi. "You be careful what you say to me, pretty girl," she whispered. "I don't play games like Big, Bad Mr. Plunder. I cut straight to the chase."
"Awesome," Gi said bluntly. "So do my friends, and they're chasing after us as we speak."
Mao snickered and ruffled Gi's hair. "You're too adorable," she said. She leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on Gi's lips.
Gi jerked back, looking furious and embarrassed.
Mao chuckled and straightened up again. "I think I've annoyed her," she said, smiling over her shoulder at Plunder.
Plunder looked irritated. "Excellent," he said, his voice stony. "Annoying the Planeteers is typically what leads to me losing a great deal of money through my lawyers as I battle to escape a jail sentence." He shook his head and sighed. "We'll just use her as a bargaining chip. Her safe return, for our safe retreat."
Mao pouted, trailing her fingers through Gi's hair. "What a pity," she said. "I was just warming up to the idea of keeping her."
- 07 – Argos Bleak/Bambi Blight – 07 -
Bleak rested his feet on top of a crate and started cleaning his fingernails with his pocket knife, whistling carelessly through his teeth. Soft noises were coming through the closed door behind him.
He sighed and rubbed a calloused hand over his bald head, trying to distract himself. He ran his eyes over the warehouse. Everyone had gone home for the day – everyone except he and Plunder, that was – and Blight had arrived carrying several bottles of beer, sauntering into Plunder's office and slamming the door. A muffled shout to not let anyone disturb them had caused Bleak to sink wearily into a chair outside, wishing Blight had at least handed him a beer first.
He cleared his throat as he heard Blight's moaning carrying through the walls, and shuffled his chair a little further away from the door, wondering what the penalty would be if he were to abandon his post. There were probably still a few factory workers milling around outside in the parking lot – Bleak figured it would be just his luck for one of them to wander in on Plunder and Blight if he left them to it.
He tossed his knife, letting it thunk solidly into the crate he was using as a footstool.
"Hi..."
Bleak looked up in alarm as the breathy voice wafted over him. He blinked in amazement, sure he was laying eyes on a younger, slimmer, prettier version of Dr. Blight.
"Is Babs in there?" the woman asked, pointing to Plunder's office door.
"She's not to be disturbed," Bleak said gruffly. "This is private property; you're trespassing."
"Oh," the woman said, another breathy little giggle coming from her pouting pink mouth, "no, I was supposed to drive her car onward to my latest film set, but the silly girl took the keys with her." She leaned over toward Bleak, and he swallowed as he glimpsed down the front of her loose t-shirt.
"My sister can be such an airhead," she whispered.
Bleak nodded dimly. "Uh-huh."
"I just need to grab my keys." Her lips brushed over his softly, sweetly. "I'll only be a minute."
He had frozen in place, his lips tingling where she had touched him, his heart seized in his chest. He nodded, dazed.
He heard the door swing open, heard Plunder shout and Blight give a high-pitched scream.
Bleak winced and closed his eyes, sinking back into the seat as the young blonde woman fled past him, apologies being shouted back over her shoulder. As she reached the door, she looked back and caught Bleak's eye, giving him a cheeky wink.
He sank further down in his chair, closing his eyes, the tips of his ears growing red. He could hear Plunder and Blight fumbling around in the room behind him, each of them shouting at one another.
It would only be a matter of time before they both directed the blame to him. He ran his hand over his head again, and decided to beat a hasty retreat before his boss could emerge from the room.
He ran after the blonde at full-pelt, hoping she had at least managed to fetch her car keys.
- 08 – Robin Plunder/Bambi Blight – 08 -
"Hi, Robin." Bambi flopped onto the barstool beside Robin Plunder, her clutch purse bouncing on the bar. She blew her hair out of her eyes and leaned forward, calling to the bartender for a drink.
Robin glanced at her and took a hefty gulp of beer. "Hey, Bambi. I didn't know you'd be here."
Bambi took her drink and tossed her hair, giving Robin a brief, narrow-eyed glance. "Your uncle wants to throw a party that shows he has influence," she said, sounding slightly bitter. "My movie just came out. I'm missing a premiere in Japan for this."
Robin's eyebrows arched in surprise. "Why'd you come?"
"Babs," Bambi muttered. "She owed your uncle a favour, and I owed her a favour. When she really wants something, it's easier just to give it to her."
"Same with Uncle Looten," Robin sighed, toying with his beer.
Bambi tossed her drink back – something clear and sharp – and shook her hair out of her eyes again. "Want to go somewhere more private?" she asked.
Robin hesitated, and Bambi pouted.
"We're friends," she whined. "We've known each other a long time. You've produced two of my films..."
He sighed and swung off his bar stool, offering her his arm as she slid down and staggered a little on her impossibly-high heels.
"Sometimes it's easier to just give in to you," he pointed out, drawing a clear reference to the similarities between Bambi and her sister.
The younger Blight grinned at him. "I know."
Robin smiled. She could be a pain in the ass sometimes, but he liked Bambi. She was sweet – much sweeter than Barbara – and she could be quite light-hearted and fun, when she wasn't fussing or being too self-conscious about her looks or her body.
He slid his hand down her arm and took her hand, winding his fingers with hers.
Bambi grinned and tugged her after him. The party wasn't really to Robin's taste. He preferred things a little on the wild side, while his Uncle Looten preferred everything low-key and high-quality. Everyone there was influential, good looking and rich, and Robin had found the entire evening to be a complete bore.
Until Bambi, of course.
She led him to a shadowy corner of the rooftop garden, plant leaves and fronds brushing their shoulders as they made their way further from the centre of the party.
She backed against the railing that ran around the roof, her smile alight with excitement and expectation.
Robin slid his hands over her hips, her dress soft and silk-like under his palms, and leaned in, closing his mouth gently over hers. Bambi breathed a soft sigh through her nose, her lashes fluttering against Robin's cheek.
Robin leaned into her, preparing to pull her hips against his, when a hand grabbed the back of his collar, jerking him backward. He gave a yell, stumbling and falling into the garden, crashing into a shrub that was trimmed into the shape of a dollar sign.
Dr. Barbara Blight stood over him, her hands on her hips, glaring down at him with her good eye. "Well?" she asked sharply.
"What the hell?" Robin asked, coughing and struggling up. He dusted himself off, and glanced to Bambi, who looked mortified.
"You think you can sneak back here and defile my little sister?" Blight asked, a snarl in her voice.
"Babs..."
"Shut up, Bambi."
Bambi fidgeted timidly, sending an apologetic look to Robin.
He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "Look, Dr. Blight..."
"You just stand there," Blight ordered, jabbing her finger at him. "I'm about to list everything that's wrong with you and your family, Plunder Jr."
Robin winced and leaned back against the railing. He didn't think he could talk his way out of this one.
- 09 – Wheeler/Trish – 09 -
"This is, like, safe, right?" Wheeler asked, bouncing his weight a little. The scaffolding creaked beneath him.
"Keep bouncing on it, and we'll find out, I guess," Trish answered, opening a can of beer. She dangled her legs over the edge of the building platform, leaning forward and resting her chest and her arms against a lower rung of the safety railing. "Come and have a beer."
Wheeler sank down beside her and opened a beer. Brooklyn lay stretched out in front of them, all yellow and orange light. Music drifted from open apartment windows, and traffic hummed and sounded in the streets below.
"Welcome to another Saturday night," Trish sighed, running her hand through her hair.
"We could have it worse," Wheeler answered, lifting his beer to his mouth. He swallowed loudly. "Not much worse, though, huh."
Trish grinned and shook her head. Behind them, plastic sheeting flapped and waved lazily in the wind. Wheeler craned his neck and peered into the shadows of the half-completed office complex they'd scaled.
"There's no security up here, is there?"
"We can outrun anyone," Trish dismissed.
"Every man for himself," Wheeler warned her. "I ain't gonna act chivalrous if we get caught, you know."
She laughed. "It hadn't ever occurred to me that you would."
He grinned, and they sat in silence for a while, sipping their beers, watching the lights down on the street move and twinkle in the fading dusk.
"Do you ever think we'll get out of here?" Trish asked quietly, tapping her fingernail on the side of her beer can.
"Sure we will," Wheeler answered, though even he had to admit there wasn't much conviction in his voice.
Trish sighed. Wheeler looked at her out of the corner of his eye. She looked miserable, and it alarmed him. He set his beer aside.
"You okay?"
She shrugged and shook her head. "No. I don't know." She gave half a laugh and crunched her empty beer can between her palms. "Just havin' an off day, I guess."
Wheeler reached over and tucked a bleached lock of hair behind Trish's ear. His fingers lingered here for a moment, and when she looked up at him, her eyes dark and full, he leaned over and kissed her softly, her mouth warm and wet beneath his.
She leaned into him for several long, slow seconds, until, with a gasp, she drew back, her palms flat against his chest. He could see her going red, even in the dim light of the evening.
"I gotta go," she stammered, staggering upright. Her empty beer can rattled as she shifted her weight on the scaffolding.
"Trish –"
"No," she said urgently, waving at him. "You stay. I – I gotta be someplace..." She trailed off and looked at him helplessly. "If we're gonna be stuck here," she said, waving her hand toward the Brooklyn skyline, "I need to stay friends with you, Wheeler. I can't... I can't do this alone, and... And if we start somethin' that ends up goin' bad..." She shook her head and hurried along the scaffolding, disappearing between the ladders and the waving sheets of plastic.
Wheeler gazed after her for a moment, before he sighed and leaned his forehead against the cool steel of the safety rail, deciding not to chase after her. Not just yet.
- 10 – Kwame/Georgie – 10 -
Georgie gave a soft sigh. Out of the corner of his eye, Kwame watched her shoulders rise and fall with the slight movement of her breath.
"I know it's not always this boring," she whispered to him, her eyes still staring out into the dark night, "but we've been here a long time, now."
Kwame grinned, keeping his own eyes trained on the door of the small building a hundred or so yards away. "Sometimes being a Planeteer can involve work that is a little boring," he conceded. "They will be out soon."
"What do we do when they come out? Run over there and make a citizen's arrest?" Georgie's eyes twinkled in the dark.
Kwame grinned. "Something like that, yes."
She leaned closer to him. "Thanks for helping me, again, Kwame," she whispered.
He tore his gaze from the door and locked it onto Georgie's wide, dark eyes instead. He found his heart fluttering in his chest.
"It is..." He took a deep breath, suddenly finding himself short of air. "It is always a pleasure," he said, unable to construct anything further than that.
Georgie smiled and leaned in, kissing him sweetly. Kwame expelled a slow breath, closing his eyes, his hand smoothing over her waist and around to her lower back.
They broke apart quietly, and Georgie smiled up at him. "I like being paired up with you," she whispered.
Kwame chuckled, feeling warm and light-headed, until he caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye. His stomach dropped.
"Oh, no!" he cried, leaping up. Mame and Stalker Slaughter had emerged from the building while Kwame was distracted, and were almost to their car already.
"Quick," Kwame said, taking off after them. "We have to catch up, before the situation becomes even worse!"
- 11 – Zarm/Gaia – 11 -
Earth was still too new, Zarm decided, his hands on his hips as he glanced around at the lush green hills he'd landed amongst. His ship lay hissing and softly smoking behind him. It'd take a few days to repair, and he was disappointed to find that his initial reaction of the planet was one of dissatisfaction.
He sighed and did a brief sweep of the area, searching for Gaia, figuring she might be able to help him on his way, even if he had crash-landed upon her new planet without so much as a word that he'd be in the neighbourhood.
She emerged from the thick ferns at the edge of the forest, looking slightly bewildered.
"Sorry for digging up your new turf, Gaia," Zarm said, waving to the trench his ship had left in the ground. "I figured I'd pop in and say hello."
"Did you now?" Gaia asked, looking a little amused. She frowned at Zarm's smoking travel craft. "What happened?"
"I'm not used to the gravity here," Zarm answered dismissively. "So..." He locked his hands behind his back and ran his eyes over the rolling hills again. "I like what you've done with the place."
She smirked. "Don't lie, Zarm. This is exactly the sort of place you hate. That's why you didn't come with me."
"Well..." Zarm trailed off and walked a few paces, inspecting the thick, green blades of grass beneath his boots. "I couldn't help but notice a few new species as I flew in."
"The numbers are rising," Gaia answered. "Though it's still early days." She waved her hand toward Zarm's ship, and it sparked, wires jumping back together and metal smoothing and repairing. "You can be on your way now."
Zarm frowned, annoyed that Gaia's powers were different to his, now that she had her own planet to play on. "Look," he said, stepping closer to her, his mouth easing into a wide grin. "Perhaps I was a a little too hasty, not taking you up on your offer to guide a new life-containing planet into existence. But I'm here now..." He edged closer, tilting his head, watching her light, lilac eyes. "So, what do you say?" His lips brushed over hers, and in his mind, he marvelled at just how seductive and charming he could really be.
Gaia's hand shot out and locked around his throat. She held him at arms length. He spluttered and choked.
"I say you get back on your ship," she said, her eyes darker now, narrowed and angry. "And don't come back, Zarm. I'm busy here. This is my Earth, and I don't want you anywhere near her." She tossed her hair and shoved him. "I don't want you anywhere near me, for that matter."
Zarm rubbed his throat and stomped back to his ship. "Women," he muttered.
- 12 – Hoggish Greedly/Linka – 12 -
Linka gagged as Greedly's snorting laugh wafted over her, his breath thick with the smell of what seemed to be a dozen stale meals. She leaned away as far as she could, Greedly's meaty fingers digging tightly into her upper arm.
She saw Wheeler race past the open doorway, heard his sneakers squeak on the floorboards as he skidded to a stop and doubled back.
"Let her go, pig!" Wheeler shouted, clenching his fist.
Greedly chuckled and pulled Linka in front of him, locking a heavy arm around her chest. "Or what, string-bean?"
"Or I'll turn you into bacon," Wheeler snarled, taking a step forward.
Greedly chuckled, his belly jiggling against Linka's bound arms. She winced, waiting for Wheeler to make his move so she could free herself.
Waiting, until she felt Greedly's fat, wet lips press against her cheek.
Wheeler's expression turned to one of revulsion, and Linka froze, until she heard Greedly's husky, snorting laugh again. She set her jaw and straightened her back, before she snapped one leg back, hard and fast, her foot connecting high against Greedly's groin. He gave a high-pitched squeal, his breath whooshing hot against Linka's neck. He fell heavily to the ground.
Linka stormed across the room toward Wheeler, who was still in the doorway, frozen in shock, his mouth open.
"Untie me," Linka demanded, turning and offering him her bound wrists. "I am going to blow Greedly through a wall." She narrowed her eyes at his fat, writhing figure, still hulked on the floor, in obvious pain.
"Uh, yeah," Wheeler stammered, his fingers fumbling with the tightly-knotted rope. "Jeez, babe, remind me to never sneak up on you from behind..."
- 13 – Kwame/Linka – 13 -
Kwame coughed and hauled Linka up onto the narrow ledge. Water ran from their clothes and hair.
"What do we do?" Linka asked, and it didn't ease the situation at all as panic pitched high in her voice.
Kwame wiped his eyes and looked up. Through the steel bars that criss-crossed the entrance of the well, he could see the starry night sky. He shivered and looked down at the water, which had already reached their ankles and was rising quickly.
Linka rubbed her bare finger anxiously, the lacking Planeteer ring weighing upon her more than ever. "Kwame..."
He coughed again and reached up, his hands closing around the steel bars. He shook them desperately. They were a good twelve inches below the top of the well. The water would rise much further than he or Linka could physically go.
He gazed at her desperately, her face pale and wet in the gloomy light of the night. "We are stuck," he said, and his voice echoed around the stone walls.
Linka bit her lip and looked up at the bars above them. "Where did we come out? Where did the pipe lead us...?
"I do not know." He shook his head and let one arm drop. His hand splashed into the water, which was up to his waist. "Unless the others find us very soon..."
Linka let out a little choked sob, leaping up at the bars, grabbing hold of them and tugging desperately. Kwame wrapped his arms around her waist and shook his head, pulling her down again.
"They are bolted firmly," he whispered. "I am sorry, Linka."
She sobbed and leaned her cheek against his shoulder, her breath warm against his wet t-shirt. He hugged her tightly, the cold water rising up over his chest. He glanced desperately to the top of the well, hoping to see a friendly face smiling down at him, assuring him rescue was there.
Linka moved, her lips brushing Kwame's jaw. "It is not your fault," she said softly, and tears slid down her wet skin. She kissed Kwame softly, and he felt a warm glow in his stomach, like a flood of calm and hope. He squeezed her, holding her tightly, and the water rose up to their shoulders as they kissed and embraced.
Linka pulled back and gave Kwame a small smile, each of them tilting their heads up to the bars, gasping in loud breaths as the water rose up, up, up...
Kwame kept his hand tightly wrapped around Linka's.
The water had only been over their heads for a few seconds, and Kwame vaguely wondered if it was worth holding his breath at all, when a bright, blue pulse of light flashed across the top of the well.
The water split and fell away, and Kwame and Linka found themselves dangling in mid-air, each of them clutching the bars above them one-handed.
Gi's worried face appeared over the top of the well, her eyes lit by the bright blue light streaming from her ring. "Hey, guys," she said, sounding shaky with relief. She gave them both a grin. "Sorry we took so long."
Out on solid ground again, the cold night air chilling his clothes, Kwame caught Linka's eye. She went red and bit her lip, shuffling her foot across the ground.
"So... uh..." Kwame shrugged uncomfortably. "We were lucky."
Linka nodded, keeping her eyes fixed on a point somewhere over his shoulder, avoiding eye-contact. "Da, we were lucky."
They each shuffled awkwardly, the kiss, rather than the rescue, foremost in their minds. Kwame cleared his throat.
"Are you guys coming?" Wheeler called, already several yards away, intent on getting back to the geo-cruiser.
Kwame and Linka hurried after him, making an effort to walk separately, determined not to catch each other's eyes in case things became even more uncomfortable.
- 14 – Ma-Ti/Gi – 14 -
Ma-Ti knew long before Gi did that she had forgotten his birthday. He wasn't particularly upset about this – rather, he was quite amused. Particularly because Wheeler had remembered with ease.
The weeks leading up to Ma-Ti's birthday – or, at least, the day he had chosen for his birthday, given that he didn't know the exact date – had been busy. Busier than usual. He could forgive Gi for thinking more about a good night's sleep than anything else.
She stumbled into the kitchen late, her pyjama bottoms slung low around her hips, her hair still tousled. Ma-Ti smiled at her.
"Good morning, Gi."
"Hey," she said, grinning lazily at him. "It's such a nice morning."
"Lovely," Ma-Ti agreed, holding his mug of tea up to his mouth. He grinned, knowing she'd realise soon, knowing she'd be mortified. He had to admit he was going to enjoy it, just a little.
"What have you got planned for today?" Gi asked, still oblivious. She eyed the breakfast dishes still spread across the table, noted the tray of birthday muffins Linka had painstakingly baked that morning. Her eyes widened slightly.
"Oh, this and that," Ma-Ti said. He plucked a blueberry muffin from the tray and held it out to Gi with a grin. "Birthday muffin?"
Gi clapped her hands to her cheeks. "Oh my gosh. I forgot! Oh, Ma-Ti! Happy birthday!" She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.
Ma-Ti chuckled and hugged her back, careful not to squash the muffin into her t-shirt.
"I have a present for you," Gi said earnestly, "and a card. I'm just not sure where they are at the moment. But I'll find them!"
Ma-Ti laughed and held the muffin out again. Gi took it with a small smile.
"I'm really sorry I forgot," she said. "I'm sorry I slept in. I'm sorry I missed breakfast."
"Don't be sorry," Ma-Ti said, shrugging with a smile. "We have all day. It is not a big deal to me, Gi. It is just any other day."
"It's your birthday." Gi sighed and leaned in, resting a soft kiss against Ma-Ti's mouth. "I'm really sorry, Ma-Ti. I'll make it up to you."
Ma-Ti felt the slow burn of hot blood flushing in his cheeks. He shrugged, and touched his lower lip with his fingertips. "I forgive you," he said, smiling at her.
- 15 – Looten Plunder/Barbara Blight – 15 -
She was young – younger than he had expected. This didn't exactly please him. Plunder tended to view youth on a similar plane as stupidity and arrogance, and he didn't want to have his time wasted by some 20-year-old who claimed to have a physics degree.
"Looten Plunder?" She narrowed her eyes at him – at least, the eye he could see. The other was covered by a thick curtain of ash blonde hair.
"Yes," he answered tersely. "And you are?"
"Blight," she answered curtly, sitting in the seat opposite him. "Who the hell were you expecting?"
He narrowed his eyes back at her. "Listen, honey, this isn't a game. I'm looking for someone who can –"
"Someone who can do the impossible." Blight smirked and raised her hand for the waiter. "That's me."
Plunder glanced to Bleak, who was sitting a couple of tables away, keeping an eye on things. Bleak rolled his eyes.
"I'll give you five minutes," Plunder said, crossing his arms across his chest. "If you can't convince me in that time that you're the right woman for the job, I'm walking away."
The smirk never left her face, though Plunder did notice a pink tinge reach her cheeks as she explained her technology to him. Her eye glittered brightly with excitement, and she paused only to take a sip of diet coke from the glass the waiter had provided.
"This is all theory," Plunder dismissed.
The eye narrowed again. "No. I've done it. I'm going to sell it. To you, if you offer the right price." She gave him a sly grin. "To one of your competitors if you offer the wrong price."
Plunder stared back at her for a long moment. She suddenly looked nervous, and tucked the hair that hung over her face behind her ear. Plunder blinked as she revealed a raw, pink scar down one side of her face, the flesh much darker than it should have been.
Mortified, Blight fluffed her hair out again, obviously not used to the scar being there; not yet accustomed to keeping it hidden.
Plunder didn't give a shit about the scar. He just wanted the technology. "How soon can it be ready?" he asked.
She looked impatient. "I told you. It is ready." She fidgeted again, and Plunder could sense she wanted to flee, still embarrassed and flustered after showing him the side of her face she wanted nobody to see.
Plunder glanced to Bleak again and gave a quick nod of his head.
He gave Blight one of his smoothest smiles. Picking up her hand, he kissed the curl of her knuckles gently. "I think we're in business," he murmured.
Blight stared back at him for a moment before she relaxed and gave him a tight smile back. "Well," she said. "It's a pleasure."
- 16 – Wheeler/Linka – 16 -
Wheeler choked and coughed, water spilling from his mouth, his breath hot and hard in his throat. He felt two strong hands roll him over, felt hard, compact sand beneath him. He choked again and opened his eyes, seeing the shoreline and the pounding waves through a red mist that hung over his entire mind.
"Easy, Yankee."
He squinted up. Linka's hair, dark with seawater, brushed against his bare shoulder. Her green eyes were wide with worry.
"Are you all right?" she asked, her fingers trailing gently through his wet hair. "That wave came out of nowhere, and when you did not come up for air..." She drew in a quivery breath and gave him a smile.
Wheeler's head pounded. He rolled onto his back again, rubbing the heel of his hand against his eye. "What happened?"
Linka just shook her head worriedly. "We should get you to the Crystal Chamber," she said. "You may need a doctor."
"I'm all right," he muttered, sitting up. He swayed a little, still looking at her through eyes that were narrowed against the bright rays of the sun. "Thanks for giving me the kiss of life, babe."
Linka gave a nervous laugh, dusting her hands off. "Is that what you call it?"
Wheeler grinned and rubbed his hand over the back of his head, feeling a tender lump there – probably courtesy of his surfboard.
Linka leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Are you really all right?" she asked softly.
Wheeler leaned his head against her shoulder tiredly. "Just give me a few minutes to catch my breath," he said.
Linka pressed another kiss against the top of his head and wrapped her arms around him. "Well, there is a limit on how many kisses of life you get in one day," she warned him.
Wheeler chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind."
- 17 – Kwame/Gi – 17 -
"So, what do you put in that secret sauce of yours, anyway?" Gi asked curiously, watching Kwame sample a mouthful of the bubbling sauce from a spoon.
Kwame grinned at her. "It is a secret."
Gi huffed and blew her hair out of her eyes, leaning against Kwame's side and peering down into the saucepan. "Tomatoes," she listed. "Onion. Peppers..." She frowned. "Vinegar?"
Kwame smiled and slipped another spoonful of sauce into his mouth, tasting it carefully. "Maybe," he teased, setting the spoon aside. "Maybe not."
Gi raised her eyebrow and stretched up on her toes, cupping Kwame's face in her hands and drawing him to her. She tasted the tangy spice of the sauce on his lips, her tongue slowly gliding out to stroke against the soft warmth of his mouth.
She drew back slowly, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Mustard," she whispered.
Kwame swallowed quietly.
"And..." Gi sucked his lower lip gently. "Cider."
Kwame cleared his throat, his hand flattening against the small of her back, holding her close. "You know," he said, "this style of interrogation works very well."
Gi smirked and slid her arms around his neck. "So if I keep it up, I'll get the recipe?"
"I dare say you will," Kwame whispered, lowering his mouth to hers.
- 18 – Wheeler/Gi – 18 -
Gi flopped back into the sand, squinting up at Wheeler in the silvery moonlight. "How'd we end up alone on New Year's Eve, again?"
Wheeler wobbled down beside her, clutching a bottle of Champagne in his hands. "If there are two of us," he said, raising his eyebrow, "we're not alone."
Gi laughed and stretched her legs, gazing up at the sky. "Is it midnight yet?"
Wheeler frowned down at his watch. "Not yet."
Gi sighed and ran her hand through her hair, trailing sand through the dark tresses. "I think I've had too much to drink."
"Me too," Wheeler agreed, swigging from the bottle. He passed it to Gi, and she grinned at him.
"You got any new year's resolutions, Wheeler?"
"To eat more broccoli," Wheeler said, leaning back on his elbows.
Gi giggled and took another gulp from the bottle, handing it back to Wheeler. He swallowed a mouthful and shuffled the bottle into the sand between them. "How 'bout you?" he asked.
"To smile more," Gi declared, rolling onto her side and looking up at him. "I feel like this year has been a lot of hard work and not enough fun."
"Finally, someone who agrees with me."
Gi giggled and Wheeler grinned and shifted the bottle, shuffling closer to her. "It can be hard work, savin' the world," he said.
"Mm," Gi sighed. She closed her eyes, her fingers curling and uncurling in the sand between them. "We've sacrificed a lot to be Planeteers. You ever think about what you're missing out on?"
"Like what?" Wheeler asked.
"Normal things people our age do. Have relationships, fall in love, get married."
"You want to get married?"
"Not right now. But it'd be kind of nice..." Gi lift her hand, watching sand trickle through her fingers. "It'd be kind of nice to be able to kiss someone now and then, and be told I'm pretty."
Wheeler sat up and dusted his hands off. "Get up," he said.
Gi sat up in alarm. "What's wrong?"
Wheeler pulled her up, staggering slightly. He bent and rested his forehead against Gi's. "You," he said, "are very, very, very pretty." He closed his eyes and kissed her softly. She smiled and leaned into him.
They broke apart quietly, the waves washing in behind Wheeler. "Okay?" he asked.
She smiled and nodded. "Just what I wanted."
"Happy new year," Wheeler whispered, his fingers clutching Gi's hips. "And I mean it. You're really pretty, Gi. Beautiful."
She kissed him again. "This new year is looking pretty damn good, as well," she said.
- 19 – Duke Nukem/Barbara Blight – 19 -
Blight hated him upon sight. Well, almost. She liked him, until he proved he was just as clever and daring as she was. She wasn't used to the other scientists in the lab praising someone else with such awe and devotion.
"Hey, Nukem," she said to him one afternoon, her voice low against the whisper of Bunsen burners and bubbling fluids.
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, looking bored. "What is it, Blight?"
She hesitated for a minute. "That project Larson asked you to do... It..." She scowled. "That project was supposed to be mine."
A smirk creased Nukem's young, smooth face. "Too bad, I guess." He glanced up at her through his safety goggles. "Only the best and brightest get the big projects."
Blight glared at him. "You know, until you showed up, everything here was great. You think you can just swan in and take away all the glory of my future career?"
Nukem tapped his pen thoughtfully against his chin. "Yeah."
Blight's fists tightened at her sides.
Nukem grinned at her across the lab table, and, in a move which infuriated her beyond anything else, raised his hand to his lips and blew her a kiss.
"Good luck with your basic, boring lab work," he said smugly, turning away. "I'm off to start a new future."
Blight's nails dug into her palms. "Oh, I hate you," she snarled through clenched teeth. "You arrogant, belittling, stupid son of a bitch." She raised her voice, no longer caring about the other technicians in the lab. "I'll beat you, Nukem!" she cried. "Mark my words, I'll prove that I'm smarter than you'll ever be!"
- 20 – Leadsuit/Rigger – 20 -
Leadsuit rolled his suit down to his waist, his hair and armpits damp with sweat. "Is there any water?" he asked, his voice trembling like he was sitting on the hood of a car with bad shocks.
Rigger waved his hand toward the cooler in the corner, his eyes fixed on the tiny black and white television in front of him. "Beer," he said, a can already clutched in his left hand.
Leadsuit winced and shuffled his way to the cooler, selecting a beer as though it tortured him. He sank onto the beat-up sofa beside Rigger and held the cool can against his sweaty brow. "Is your boss back yet?"
"Nope." Rigger cracked a peanut with his teeth and spat the shells to the floor, his eyes still glued to the game on the television. "We gotta be back at the depot in an hour."
Leadsuit winced, pulling his t-shirt away from his chest. "Don't you have air conditioning?"
Rigger sneered at him. "Yeah, sure," he said, chortling, his teeth pressing out over his lower lip. "Like I can afford air conditioning." He took a swing of beer. "Stick an icepack in your shirt," he said.
"I've tried that," Leadsuit whimpered. "It's too uncomfortable when it all melts."
Rigger sniggered and crunched another peanut between his teeth. He spat the shells to the floor and tossed the nut in the air, catching it easily.
Leadsuit watched him, edging closer along the busted cushions. "You're good at that."
"Yeah," Rigger bragged. "If they had a world championship for this, I'd win. No question, no question."
Leadsuit watched as Rigger's lips moved silently: yep, yep, yep.
"I barely manage a meal a day at all," he said, his eyes wide. "I have to wear this suit all the time..."
"Sucks to be you," Rigger sniggered.
"Sometimes it's hard to remember who I am at all." Leadsuit edged closer, his hand sliding out to brush against Rigger's knee.
Rigger's eyes narrowed, and he looked at Leadsuit with suspicion. "What are you doin'?"
Leadsuit closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, leaning forward, his lips puckered. He had barely scraped the edge of Rigger's mouth when he heard the slick sound of a switch-blade flicking open.
He opened his eyes and found Rigger holding the blade between them, his eyes wide.
"Back it up," Rigger said, his voice strained and nasally. "Or I'll slice that suit open like you're a fish on the dock."
Leadsuit swallowed and shuffled back to the opposite end of the couch.
Rigger twirled the blade in his fingers and reached for another peanut.
- 21 – Wheeler/Bambi Blight – 21 -
Bambi fluttered her lashes at Wheeler, smiling up at him in the dim light of the parking lot to her apartment building.
"I've always liked you," she crooned, her breath warm against his ear, her chest pressing close against his.
Wheeler grinned, his face warm with pleasure. "Yeah?"
"You always thought I was a nice person," Bambi whispered, her fingers smoothing through Wheeler's red hair. Her voice saddened and she closed her eyes, tracing the tip of her nose across Wheeler's cheek. "Even if I'm not."
"You are," he murmured, his hands on her waist. He kissed her softly, his hands smoothing slowly over her back, his fingers curling and nesting in the lower curve of her spine. The world fell away for a few long, blissful seconds, Bambi's perfume sweet and heavy in the air around him, her lips soft and pliant against his.
Wheeler broke the kiss softly, but stayed close. "That was –"
He was hauled roughly backwards, and a strong hand clamped a wet cloth over his mouth and his nose. He struggled, shouted a muffled order at Bambi to run, and realised she was watching him with a sad look on her face.
"Don't hurt him, Bleak," she said. "Tell Babs and Plunder not to hurt him."
Wheeler's eyes fogged, the fumes on the cloth bringing darkness rapidly. He thought bitterly about all the times he'd defended Bambi, all the times he said she couldn't be corrupted or swayed.
Bleak loosened the cloth, holding the back of Wheeler's shirt so the Planeteer stayed mostly upright. Wheeler was too weak to do anything but attempt to finish the sentence he'd started before Bleak's arrival.
The look he gave Bambi was one of disappointment and disbelief. "That was not the best kiss ever," he mumbled, finally letting the darkness sweep in and take him.
- 22 – Wheeler/Trish – 22 -
"Don't," Trish snarled, shoving Wheeler back, "try to apologise to me with a kiss." She stormed away, her hair bouncing against her shoulders with every rapid step she took.
Wheeler stared after her, annoyed. "Well how else am I supposed to do it?" he called.
Trish stopped and spun, glaring at him, her eyes sparking dangerously at him, even with such a distance between them. "Gee, I dunno!" she shouted, her voice rising over the sounds of the traffic as the lights changed. "How about a simple 'I'm sorry?'"
"Oh, right," Wheeler said to himself, feeling a little stupid. His temper tended to run away on him sometimes, blocking out most logic and sense. "Sorry!" he called.
Trish had already disappeared, weaving between cabs and cars at the lights and disappearing into the crowd across the street.
Wheeler huffed and ran his hands through his hair, wondering if he'd ever manage to understand women at all.
- 23 – MAL/Barbara Blight – 23 -
"If we pull this off," Blight said, her voice tense and excited, "we'll be billionaires, MAL, baby!"
MAL's pixelated face turned upwards in a smug smile. "If we pull this off, dear doctor? Why is there ever any doubt in your genius schemes?"
Blight gave a breathy, flattered giggle, sauntering across the room, trailing her fingers over the dashboards and casings of MAL's main unit body. "How are you feeling, MAL? You're not overheating, are you?"
"No, I'm fine," MAL answered dismissively. "Besides, as soon as I get into the government's mainframe, I can use their hardware for the heavy stuff."
"That's right," Blight cooed. "Everything's going to be just fine." She pressed her lips against MAL's main monitor, only to be stung with a sharp jolt of static electricity.
"Ouch! Damn it!" she cursed, rubbing her lips.
MAL sparked and whimpered on the screen. "Oh, dear," he whined, his pixels wavering. "Maybe I am feeling a little warm, after all..."
Blight slammed her fist into the side of his monitor. "Don't!" she shouted at him. "You stay here and listen to the lecture I'm about to give you!"
MAL's screen faded to black. Blight cursed again and rubbed her lips.
- 24 – Looten Plunder/Barbara Blight – 24 -
"Can you imagine us as a married couple living in the Hamptons?" Blight asked, wrinkling her nose and reaching for her champagne.
Plunder snorted, his face tilted up to the sun.
Blight swallowed the rest of her glass, her fingers toying with the bubbling surface of the water in the hot tub. "Isn't that what normal people do?"
"What?" Plunder asked, looking at her. "Get married and move to the Hamptons?"
"Yeah." Blight reached for the ice bucket, grabbing the bottle of champagne and pouring herself another hefty glass.
Plunder narrowed his eyes. "Where's this going?"
She rolled her eyes. "For God's sake, Looten, I'm not trying to drop you a hint." She dumped the bottle back into the ice bucket. "That is the last thing I want."
Plunder sloshed over to her side of the hot tub, sitting beside her, his hand combing away damp strands of her hair. "What's the first thing you want?" he asked. "I'll buy it for you."
She giggled and stretched her legs. "The Planeteers' heads on a platter?" she asked.
He sighed and rubbed a wet hand over his face. "Yeah, me too." He leaned over and kissed her gently. "I'll get 'em for you."
"Don't kiss me unless you mean it, Plunder."
He grinned and kissed her again. "I mean it. I make good on my promises."
"Oh, yeah?" she asked, smiling at him. "A promise, huh?"
He smirked. "Do I look like I'm joking?"
Blight sighed happily, raising her glass to the sun. "Screw normalcy," she said. "This is what I want."
- 25 – Sly Sludge/Barbara Blight – 25 -
Sludge had heard rumours (from Greedly, who was hardly reliable), that Blight had once kissed Looten Plunder in a fit of spontaneous joy after watching the Planeteers' geo-cruiser plummet to earth in a trail of fire and smoke.
So when he managed to hit the geo-cruiser with his toxic cannon, causing it to spin out of control and disappear beyond the tree line with a heavy smashing sound, he turned to Blight, grabbed her arms, and bent her backwards in what he considered to be a very daring and flamboyant move. He pressed his lips against her, feeling amazingly pleased with himself for taking down the Planeteers and scoring a kiss on the same day.
Until Blight gripped her fingers into his greasy hair and tugged fiercely. She pulled him upright and slammed him down across his desk, his arm pinned up between his shoulders.
He could hear his rubber gloves creaking under the pressure of Blight's iron fist.
"Don't you ever try to touch me again," Blight said icily. "I'll rip your arm off."
"I believe you," Sludge whimpered.
Blight released him and he fell to the floor, cradling his wrist. "You know," he said, frowning up at her, "Just because a man works with a lot of garbage doesn't mean he's beneath you."
"It wouldn't matter what you did for a living, Sludge," Blight answered dismissively. "Don't ever touch me again."
- 26 – Linka/Gi – 26 -
Linka wiped her tears away on her sleeve. "I just do not understand him," she sniffled. "He is so..." She gestured helplessly with her hand.
"All over the place?" Gi suggested helpfully, her hand moving in slow circles across Linka's back.
Linka sighed and nodded, plucking another tissue from the box. "I should not get so upset. I never really encourage him. I should not blame him if he looks elsewhere..." She chewed her lip, staring down at the floor.
"Well, you want to know how serious he is," Gi said, defending Linka's cautiousness. "And if he runs off with other girls at the drop of a hat, well, I guess it pays to be careful."
Linka gave a shuddery sigh and nodded, squeezing more tears from her eyes.
Gi wrapped her arms around her and kissed her temple. "You can always come and cry on my shoulder," she said.
Linka laughed and buried her face against Gi's neck. "Thank you, Gi. If Wheeler does not want to hug and kiss me, I am glad you will."
Gi laughed and pressed a kiss to the crown of Linka's head. "Any time."
- 27 – Wheeler/Gi – 27 -
The ocean was rough, the waves pulling and rolling strongly. Now and then there would be a brief lull, and it was in these periods of time that Wheeler and Gi stopped swimming and jumping through the waves to catch their breath.
"You had enough yet, water baby?" Wheeler asked, running a hand through his hair. It stuck up in a rough mohawk, and Gi grinned at him, paddling closer, slightly breathless from the strength of the ocean.
"Not yet. Have you?"
Wheeler gave her a grin. "Not a chance. I'm lookin' more energetic than you are. You barely got over that last wave."
Gi raised her eyebrow, floating in front of Wheeler, her knees brushing either side of his chest. "Are you saying you're a better swimmer than I am?" she asked, her eyes wide, her lashes wet with water and salt.
Wheeler grinned, focusing all of his attention on her. "This afternoon? Maybe. Did you see the way I somersaulted over that last set?" He leaned close, kissing a drop of seawater off the end of her nose. "Do you give up?"
"No," Gi answered sweetly, kissing the tip of Wheeler's nose in return. "I have a feeling my luck's about to change."
She drew a quick breath and slipped below the surface of the water. Wheeler blinked, suddenly aware the the waves had started while he was distracted in his flirtatious little exchange with the Water Planeteer.
He winced, and the next wave hit him full in the face, washing away Gi's kiss and sending him tumbling backwards. Even over the rush and hiss of the water, he thought he could hear her laughing.
- 28 – Looten Plunder/Bambi Blight – 28 -
Plunder tapped his foot impatiently, his eyes focused on the floor indicator at the top of the elevator. "Come on," he muttered. "Come on, come on." He was alone, and running very late. The party had started hours ago, and Plunder knew he'd probably missed his chance to miss with some of the more influential people in the city. His mood was dark, and growing worse by the second.
He heard the party before the elevator arrived – a loud hum of laughter and chatter, glasses and tasteful music. He scowled, annoyed that he had been so delayed, annoyed that he had missed out on an evening which required nothing but wit and charm – something he considered himself rather rich in.
He sighed and pulled his sleeves down, stepping from the elevator into the penthouse, casting his eyes around for Doctor Blight.
He spotted her almost immediately, standing alone on the balcony, a pale pink dress skimming her hips and falling gracefully to her ankles. Plunder thought perhaps she had lost a little weight, and made a note to mention it if she was too angry at him for being so late.
"Blight," he sighed, too rushed and impatient for pet names. "Sorry I'm late." He slid his arm around her waist and kissed her bare shoulder. "Do you want..." He trailed off in horror as the woman turned around in alarm.
"Bambi!" he blurted.
"Mr. Plunder!" Bambi's face turned bright pink, and she took a few tottering steps backwards.
Plunder caught sight of Blight out of the corner of his eye, and immediately hastened to explain. Blight cut him off by swinging her evening purse into his face.
"Ouch, shit!" Plunder yelped, holding a hand to his cheek. "What do you have in there? Rocks?" He rubbed his jaw. "I think you chipped my tooth, Babs."
Blight cracked her knuckles, glaring at him. "I'm just getting started."
- 29 – Kwame/Georgie – 29 -
"Do you really have to go?" Georgie asked, swaying against Kwame, her palms smoothing over the front of his shirt.
"You are doing a very good job at convincing me not to," Kwame admitted, his brow resting lightly against Georgie's.
She closed her eyes, breathing him in, her hands sliding up over his shoulders. "I miss you when you're gone," she said. "And you're gone a lot. I barely see you at all."
Kwame winced. "I know, Georgie. I am sorry. It is just that –"
"No, it's okay." She spoke softly, but gave him a wide, genuine smile. "I understand. I really do. I just... don't like it."
Kwame chuckled and tucked a dark strand of her hair behind her ear. "I do not like it much, either," he whispered.
Georgie ran her fingers down his arms and squeezed his hands. "Give me two seconds," she said. "Then I'll let you go." She smiled up at him and disappeared into her kitchen, leaving Kwame standing by the open front door, his bag at his feet.
Georgie returned, holding out an empty honey jar. "Blow me a kiss," she requested. "And on a lonely day, I'll open the jar and let it out..."
Kwame laughed, and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. "I will fill it with kisses," he promised, and he blew them toward her as she held the jar up to him. She grinned and twisted the lid on tightly.
Kwame leaned down and kissed her mouth, his arms tightening around her. "I really have to go," he said reluctantly.
Georgie nodded, and smiled, reaching to the small table beside the door for an envelope with Kwame's name on it. "Your kisses," she said. "For later."
- 30 – Greg/Linka – 30 -
Linka was beginning to wonder if Greg actually had something wrong with him. She liked him, and she thought he was, at heart, a decent and hard-working man, but he seemed so short-sighted a lot of the time. Completely blind to a lot of things, if she were completely honest.
She stood with him beside the river, listening to him wax lyrically about the pale moonlight and the beautiful river.
She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Greg," she said, "if you are trying to set the mood, you are failing."
He blinked at her in surprise.
She waved at the river impatiently. "The river is choked with pollution from your father's factory. And the moon is almost hidden behind a cloud of smog from the city. The beauty in this scene is only that of potential."
Greg swallowed and fidgeted, giving a nervous laugh. "You're beautiful," he said.
Linka felt herself soften a little bit. She gave him a small smile, but tensed up as he leaned close to her, his lips pressing chastely against hers.
"I cannot," she blurted, holding him at arm's length. "I am – working for you. It could compromise our Planeteer mission."
Greg frowned. "I don't see how."
"It is not a good idea," Linka said sternly. She turned and started to march back in the direction of the factory. "Now, come on!" she called. "There is a lot of work to do if you really want this place to look beautiful."
- 31 – Wheeler/Linka – 31 -
Linka smiled down at the birthday card covered in Wheeler's scribbled handwriting. Some of it was smudged, his hand having moved over it carelessly, before the ink was dry. Some of it was just unintelligible, his writing too cramped, too loopy, too pointed to make out.
A few things were easy to make out.
Dear Linka.
She traced her fingertip over the lettering.
I hope your birthday...
She grinned at the large smudge that covered the rest of the sentence, Wheeler's fingerprint visible in the blue ink at the edge of the card.
Love.
She smiled again, her heart fluttering in her chest.
Wheeler. X
Wheeler. X. She traced her thumb over his name, resting the edge of her nail against the solitary letter at the bottom of the card. X.
A kiss. One lonely, neat little kiss, right at the bottom of the card, the ink staining the paper permanently, the kiss marked forever. X marks the spot.
She touched her lips and smiled, getting to her feet, the card clutched in her fingers. She decided a few points of the message needed clarifying, and she wanted Wheeler to explain it to her.
Down to every last letter.
