Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock. I am not making profit from this story so no one sue me, please. Any characters whom are not from Static Shock are rightfully owned by me.
Summary: Virgil and Richie haven't been friends for nearly 20 years. They have gone their separate ways and lived their successful live through work. However, how have their personal lives suffered since their failed friendship?
"So, I was thinking we could rent a jet and have it spell out 'Will you marry me?' in a cloud," Angelica said as she paced back and forth in the living room. "That would be so romantic, don't you think?" she gushed, turning her attention to Virgil.
Groaning loudly, Virgil lulled his head back against the couch. "Angelica, I just want something… I don't know… smaller. Quaint," he said puffed before looking up at Angelica. "Can you do that, Angelica? Quaint?"
"Quaint isn't fun, Virgil," Angelica insisted. "You want to propose in a way he'll never forget. It has to be memorable! Jets are memorable!"
Virgil rolled his eyes. "How is quaint not fun? I don't even like showy."
Angelica snorted and placed a hand firmly on her hip. "Now, I know," she emphasized, laughing, "that's a lie. Static was nothing but showy!"
"Static was not showy!"
"Oh, come on, Virgil," Angelica exasperated. "Static was fifty percent all about showing off! When you weren't fighting crime, you were showing off!"
Virgil exhaled loudly and buried his face into his hands. Sighing softly, he mumbled, "Maybe this was a mistake. We aren't even dating yet."
Angelica sighed threw her nose and dropped her hand from her hip. She frowned which caused her shoulders to slump. Sitting next to Virgil, she laid her hand gently on Virgil's left shoulder blade and made gentle, soothing circles.
"Virgil," Angelica said gently, "do you want to be with Richie?"
"Of course I do," Virgil said in the midst of a groan. Sighing shakily, he dropped his hands to his lap and turned to look at Angelica, causing her to remove her hand from his back.
Sadness in Virgil's eyes penetrated the room, and echoed off the walls as he spoke. "I just… this is too much. This is all you and I have talked about for two days. All we've talked about," he emphasized. "I haven't even seen him since Christmas." He paused, rubbing his hands over his eyes. "So, maybe I'm just going too fast with this."
Angelica sighed and smiled gently. "Maybe you can go see him then? It sort of sounds like that's what you need to do right now."
Virgil shrugged. "I don't want to interrupt anything."
Laughing softly, Angelica patted Virgil's back. "If he loves you like I think he does, I'm more than positive he'll welcome the distraction."
Virgil smiled and rolled his eyes. Standing, Virgil and Angelica embraced in a warm, friendly hug.
"Thanks, Angelica." Virgil pulled away from the hug, stepping about a foot away.
"Of course, Virgil," Angelica said and smiled. After a beat, she added, "Also, just call me 'Angel.' Most people nowadays do and it makes me feel younger," she chuckled. She pushed a few strands of stray hair out of her face.
Virgil pushed his right hand through his dreads. He smiled and laughed airily. "Well, if I'm going to call you 'Angel,' you're just gonna have to call me 'V'," he countered. Grinning, he mouthed: "It makes me feel younger."
Angelica threw her head back in an uproar of laughter. "Virgil Hawkins, I am not afraid to backhand you," she said and raised a finger at him.
"If you wanna backhand me, you have to catch me first," Virgil taunted with a grin.
Virgil turned on his heels and raced toward the door while laughing, collecting his keys with his static cling on the way out. Once he made it to the parking lot, Angelica still on his tail, he pulled the hubcap from his car, charged it and jumped on it. Hovering about three feet above Angelica's head, he turned and knelt down, his hands dangling between his legs. He grinned.
"That is not even fair!" Angelica cried vehemently, her tone screeching. "You can't get away from me by hovering above me!"
"Really?" Virgil laughed and raised an eyebrow. "Because I'm pretty sure I am," he quipped.
Angelica glared. "Fine," she murmured and turned away from Virgil, heading back into the apartment.
"Where are you going?"
"To get you down from there," Angelica said, and immediately disappeared into the apartment complex.
Five minutes passed before Angelica came back. When she returned, Virgil was sitting on his pseudo-saucer with his feet dangling off the edge. He watched as Angelica walked up to him holding a bucket full of sloshing water. Eyes wide, Virgil jumped off the hubcap to his feet, the hubcap crashing down behind him. "You were not about to throw water at me," he whined.
"I dunno," Angelica mumbled. "I might have; I have the water right here. See?" She tipped the bucket slightly.
"That would make you such a bitch, though," Virgil informed and crossed his arms with a huff. "Why would you want to throw water at your favorite superhero?" he said with big, brown eyes.
"That only works with blue eyes," Angelica laughed. She dumped half the water out on the ground around Virgil's feet, causing him to jump back. "I wouldn't be throwing water at my favorite superhero," she laughed. "I would have been throwing water at my ex-husband."
"What's the difference?"
"Believing the latter helps me sleep at night."
Virgil rolled his eyes and laughed. "You're such a bitch, Angel."
"Mm. Well, you're an ass, V," Angelica retorted, laughing. "Now go see Richie," she said and dumped out the remainder of the water. "Like I said, I'm sure he'll welcome the distraction from whatever he's doing."
"How long will you be here?"
Angelica shrugged and glanced at her watch. "Well, I have to work at three, so I'll only be here for another forty-five minutes or so. I need to drop Chloé off at Rachael's house before I go to work and I need to go back to my house and get my stuff and I need a shower… yeah… all that…"
Virgil chuckled. As he shifted from one foot to the other, he reached his left arm around the back of his neck and scratched the right side of his head.
"I could take Chloé with me," Virgil offered and shrugged.
"You need some alone time with Richie, though," Angelica reminded Virgil. She cleared his throat. "She would probably have more fun at Rachael's house, anyway."
"I suppose so." Virgil clicked his tongue. He popped his lips when he had an idea. "Well, at least let me take her to Rachael's house. That way you don't have to rush," he offered.
"Rachael lives in Gotham, though. I live in Gotham. Richie lives here in Dakota," Angelica said as if she were giving Virgil a geography lesson. "It would be more convenient for me to drop her off on the way back to my house.
"But I guess if you want to take Chloé, then that's fine," Angelica added after considering the offer. "She probably would rather be with you than her old mother," she laughed airily.
"Oh come on," Virgil said and headed back into the apartment, side by side with Angelica. "You aren't old, Angel; not with a name like that."
Angelica snorted and jabbed Virgil in the side with her elbow, gently pushing Virgil against the wall as they walked up the stairs. She laughed when Virgil did the same and then grabbed her arm so she could catch her balance.
"See, this is why you're irresistible," Angelica said and snickered. "I'm pretty sure you're just a natural born coquette."
Virgil knitted his eyebrows and stopped walking. "What?"
Angelica rolled her eyes and laughing soundlessly. "You're a flirt," she said and continued walking.
"Oh."
After dropping off Chloé at Rachael's house, and having a brief conversation with Francis about how his life had changed in the short week, Virgil made his way back to Dakota to stop by Richie's house.
During the entire drive, he nervously played through different scenarios in his head about what he would say if Richie minded the interruption and what he would say if he did not. If he did not mind the interruption, then Virgil figured there was nothing to worry about, so he didn't spend long thinking about that possibility. However, if he did mind, what would Virgil say? What would he do? Virgil really did want to see Richie, but he didn't want to interrupt if Richie were in the middle of something important, such as grading papers or inventing a way control the space-time continuum—because, hey, it was something for which Richie would strive.
After an all-to-short but all-to-long fifteen minute drive back into Dakota, Virgil found himself sitting in Richie's driveway. Nervously, he looked from his steering wheel, up to Richie's front door, and back again. He repeated the actions for close to ten minutes before mustering up the courage to get out and walk to his front door. Under any other circumstances—such as not having spent twenty years not being friends—Virgil would have ran up to Richie's door and barged in, not at all concerned with what Richie was doing, but these were not normal circumstances, and, while Richie and Virgil were "best friends," they still weren't on the best of terms. It made for a confusing situation.
Standing at Richie's front door, Virgil knocked gently three times and stepped back. He waited for close to five minutes and, when there was no answer, he repeated the process. After fifteen minutes of knocking and waiting, Virgil deduced that Richie wasn't home, despite his car being in the driveway, and turned to leave.
Just as Virgil began to turn away, he was stopped in his tracks by the sound of distant sobbing. Furrowing his eyebrows, Virgil hastily turned back toward the door and pressed his ear against the door. It didn't take him long to realize the sobbing was coming from inside Richie's condo and Virgil began to panic, knowing full well that the only person that could possibly be crying was Richie. Placing his hand on the doorknob, he began to turn it, frenzied, to no avail; it was locked. Getting down on his knees, Virgil picked the lock with a small bolt of electricity, periodically shaking the doorknob until it became unlocked. Standing up straight, Virgil pushed the door in and walked into Richie's house.
"Richie!" Virgil called out shakily. "Richie, where are you?"
Richie didn't answer, but as Virgil made his way toward the kitchen, the sobbing became louder until Virgil was face to face with the sight of Richie, kneeling on the ground, hunched over, frantically sobbing. In one swift movement, Virgil found himself on the ground, face to face with Richie.
"Richie, what's wrong?" Virgil asked, panicked, with his hands on Richie's shoulders. "Why are you crying?" He was trying his best to keep his tone even; both of them being upset would never get them anywhere.
Instead of answering, Richie lifted his head, his eyes practically glowing from tears, his face a combination of beet and strawberry red—beet from the color, strawberry because it was speckled white, and his nose dripping snot that made Richie continually sniff.
The sight of his best friend on the floor crying, the way he looked, hitched Virgil's voice and made his heart shatter in his chest. Virgil did his best to hold back his own tears as he pulled into a tight, protective hug. A hug that was cut short when he felt something pressed against his stomach. He pushed Richie away slightly and looked down.
And his heart broke that much more.
Covered from head to toe in goose bumps, tears falling from the corners of his eyes, and his hands shaking, Virgil let go of Richie completely and reached out to collect Aria's stiff corpse from Richie's hands into his own arms. He watched as Richie's arms fell limp and his entire fell to the floor.
After setting Aria's body carefully and respectfully on a chair beside him, Virgil scooted closer to Richie and pulled him up off the ground into his arms. As Virgil held Richie, he became aware of the tears that covered his shoulder, and with each tear that he felt, Virgil tightened the hold on Richie that much more. Loosening his hold, Virgil repositioned his hands and began stroking Richie's soft, sweat-matted, salt-blond hair while his other hand made gentle, soothing circles on Richie's lower back; not too low, but enough to be considered said portion of the back.
Just like on Christmas Eve, Virgil began singing a gentle, soothing tune, but this time the words were carried with a honeysuckle sweetness rather than sensuality; but, just like Christmas Eve, the words were still carried with a gentle, graceful ease. The only word that came close to describing his singing was: breath-taking, because after several moments, Virgil found that Richie's crying had come to a cease, save for the occasional tearful hiccups and small whimpers. Even after Richie had come to full silence, Virgil continued singing until the song came to an end and, when he was done, held Richie securely against his chest until he was ready to talk.
"I woke up… a—and… and… and… sh—she… she was—she wasn't there," Richie explained tearfully and began crying convulsively once more.
"Sh, shh, Richie, it's okay," Virgil cooed softly as he held one arm around Richie's upper back and used the other one to lift Richie's head by the chin. "Hey," he said with a warm smile. "It'll be okay."
For several minutes Richie was completely silent, scanning Virgil's chocolate brown, black speckled eyes. Taking in every detail, from the way it looked like Virgil's iris was rimmed with the petals of a brown sunflower, to fact that the whites of his eyes were bloodshot.
However, he was looking for more than just the physical description of Virgil's eyes. He was looking for trust; he was looking for a reason to believe that everything really would be alright. For close to ten minutes, Richie examined the way Virgil's left eyebrow was arched and not the right, and the fact that his irises never once dilated. He noted the fact that Virgil's smile was gentle and friendly, and the way they never lost eye contact.
Richie sobbed violently as he buried his face into Virgil's chest. "Wha—what am I—what am I going to do without her? She was my best friend."
As he pulled Richie closer, holding onto him as if someone were about to take him away, Virgil did his best to even his breathing as his thoughts reeled. Richie's best friend had been a cat. Not another human, but a feline. For twenty years, Richie had put his trust and love into a creature of another species, and it tore Virgil's heart to pieces. As a result of his stupid, selfish actions, he had driven Richie to find friendship with a cat while the world around him fell apart; while everyone else in his life left him for one reason or another. Richie's one constant had been Aria, and now he was on his kitchen floor, sobbing, because his best friend had died.
Virgil's thoughts ceased, and he realized he was still holding tightly onto Richie as his best friend sobbed against his chest. Richie was Virgil's best friend.
"Richie, I love you," Virgil said desperately, and almost immediately began kicking himself; kicking himself for making Aria's death about himself and his feelings. This was supposed to be about Richie.
Richie pulled away from Virgil's chest, a sad smile furrowing his eyebrows, making his eyelids heavy, and turning down his lips. For close to five minutes, Richie did nothing but stared at Virgil.
Finally, Richie gulped heavily, almost nervously. Amongst the tears, anguish, and sadness, a small smile cut across Richie's lips, brightening just slightly every feature on his dispirited face, bringing to Richie's eyes a luminosity Virgil hadn't seen anyone look at him with in years.
"I love you, too, Virgil," Richie finally replied with the same intensity and desperation Virgil had said it to him in. "And…" he began, trailing off, his voice becoming choked up. After a moment, he continued. "I know it'll be okay," he said in a soft tone.
Gently, Virgil stretched out his hand and ran his thumb over the soft skin under Richie's eyes, wiping away the tears that had collected. For a moment, his thumb lingered on Richie's cheek bone and they both smiled.
And Virgil knew right then what he wanted hadn't been a mistake.
The mistake had been waiting so long to go after what he now knew he wanted.
Drawing in a deep, extremely shaking breath, Virgil dropped his hand and placed both of them firmly on Richie's hips. When Richie glanced down at the firm hands on his hips, Virgil murmured softly to coax Richie into looking back at him. Virgil smiled warmly when Richie's ocean blue eyes met his, sending a surge of electricity through his veins, causing him to gasp softly as his whole body momentarily tensed. The ocean of Richie's eyes were the one weakness Virgil couldn't live without.
"Richie," Virgil began and bit his lip gently. He let out a soft sigh, practically glowing as he watched the trust in Richie's eyes crash like waves. "I've missed you so much," he said and pulled himself closer to Richie, wrapping his arms around Richie's lower back. He was quiet for a minute, debating feverishly how to continue without sounding corny. When he realized that was an impossible feat, he nevertheless continued, deciding it was more important to sound cheesy than to lose his nerve and loose his chance to sound as such. "Richie, when we first met, I knew you were special. I wasn't sure how, because, well, I was eight," he said and both of them chuckled airily. When the seriousness returned, Virgil continued. "But I knew you were." He paused briefly and glanced up at the ceiling. Taking in a deep breath, he looked back down at Richie, regaining eye contact. "I'm not gonna to lie; I'm not really good at being romantic." He chuckled to himself. "I guess that's why I wanted Angel's help with this."
Richie smiled. His voice was small as she spoke. "You're doing fine," he encouraged. He then knitted his eyebrows but remained smiling. "Wanted her help with what, V?" he asked.
"It's just…" Virgil began, and Richie knew that Virgil was about to dive headfirst into one of his pointless rants. "This feels so awkward, but at the same time, it feels like it's something I need to do. Like, if I don't do it right now, I'll never get another chance or something, which is probably crazy, considering that I will probably see you all the time, but I just can't shake this feeling—"
"V," Richie said, attempting to interrupt him.
"—that—"
"Virgil," he tried again.
"—if I don't do it now I won't be able to—"
"Virgil!" Richie tried one last time, raising his voice ever so slightly. When he had Virgil's startled attention he calmly said: "You're rambling."
Virgil smiled and glanced down at the ground, slightly embarrassed. Clearing his throat, he looked back up at Richie and said, "Look, I know this seems out of nowhere, and that I don't have anything prepared, or anything to give you, and this probably seems like the most inopportune time ever—"
Richie cleared his throat to cut off Virgil from another one of his pointless rants. He smiled when he got Virgil's full attention again.
"Richie?"
"Yes, Virgil?"
There was a long silence. Gently, Virgil grasped his own hand around Richie's left hand and brought it against his chest, laying his hand over Richie's. Virgil's heart was beating a mile a minute, ready to leap out of his chest, and, as a result, Richie gave Virgil a confused, sideways glance. He was trying desperately to figure out what was going on, but no matter what scenario he came up with, none of it made sense.
It occurred to him that he was probably overthinking, so he tried to think of Virgil's actions in more abstract terms.
A beat before Virgil spoke, Richie figured out what was going on, and his heart, too, began to flutter at the same speed as Virgil's, if not faster to compensate for the fact that his brain was swimming in endorphins, his blood was rushing through his veins, and his breathing sped up.
"Richie…" Virgil began, tightening his hold on Richie's hand, "Will you marry me?" He paused only for a brief moment, barely allowing Richie any time to speak. "I know it seems really sudden, and, like I said, I don't really have anything proper to do this with, so I would really understand if—"
"Virgil." Richie grinned and shook his head. "Shut up."
With grinned sheepishly. "So is that a yes?"
Richie leaned in and gently pressed his lips against Virgil's. His were arms draped over Virgil's shoulders, and Virgil's arms were around Richie's back. The kiss stayed soft and sensual. Quietly, in a choked up cry that caused Virgil to wrap his arms tighter around him, Richie said:
"There is no one else I would rather marry than you."
Omnia Vincit Amor
A/N: A couple things:
1. I am aware they were making out near a dead cat. It would have just been so awkward for Richie to be like "Be right back, yo, gotta bury my cat real quick." Hence, making out near a dead cat. I sort of just figure they bury her after all this. Imagine what you will.
2. Omnia Vincit Amor means "Love Conquers All" which is something I thought was appropriate for this story. Not to mention, it's a quote from the poet Virgil. Which is... well... yeah. You get it.
3. I am also aware Virgil basically broke into Richie's house, but, come on, let's be honest here. If you heard your friend sobbing, and the door was locked, and no one was answering, you would break the fuck in, too. If you wouldn't, you should consider it as an option.
4. There's probably grammatical errors galore, I know. I tried editing, but I can't catch everything. So bear with me if there is!
I kind of... I kind of don't know what my feels are doing. On the one hand, I'm sad this story is over, because it's basically been my baby for the last six weeks. On the other hand, I'm relieved, because I have school work to focus on (it's the end of the quarter, like I mentioned in the last chapter). Either way, there will be a sequel to this. Let me know if you would want to see that.(It'll mostly be about Virgil and Richie being engaged and other fun shenanigans... like Angelica's new boyfriend...)
Please review. Seriously, please? I would just really appreciate a review. Anon or not, I don't care. I just want a review telling me how this story was. Please?