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“-certainly, and with Sentinel and Steel there, I don’t expect any trouble up north.” Julia flashes a grin just in time for the cameras to start coming out.
Is it still going on? Kelly knows Julia likes her limelight, but this is getting ridiculous. She doesn’t have a watch to check while wearing her Sidestep suit but mimes the motion anyway. An exaggerated roll of her shoulders completes the picture of exasperation she paints. No one’s paying attention to notice but it’s the principle of it all that counts.
Or, wait. Amusement, low but warm, flickers at the edge of her consciousness. Like Perseus and his thread, she winds it back to its source… And behind her mask, she frowns in thought as she realizes that Lady Argent was watching her. There’s no sign of it now, and the newest Ranger stands propaganda-perfect, her silvery expression professionally blank as she waits for Julia to be done with her fanclub.
Most people would probably buy it. Kelly’s not most people, however, and dull boredom emanates from Lady Argent like cresting waves. When Kelly looks closer, she notices the same impatience that jitters through her twitching at Lady Argent’s fingers. Looks like she’s not the only one going stir-crazy.
On the one hand, Julia’ll probably be annoyed when she figures out that she’s been ditched. On the other, Kelly really, really does not want to be standing around in full costume under the Los Diablos afternoon sun for as long as it’ll take for Julia to be finished. And with the crowd that the already assembled huddle of people is attracting, that isn’t going to be for a while. The perils of the Marshal walking about in broad daylight, she supposes. It’s not the villains you have to worry about, it’s the groupies.
Her gaze flickers back to Lady Argent. No reason for them both to be miserable, really. Kelly closes her eyes and tosses the insinuation of a, “hey, you!” over Lady Argent’s way, the mental equivalent of a poke in the shoulder. Quicksilver fast, Lady Argent startles and glances up, expression needle-sharp and predator-focused in its intensity. Kelly’s impressed at how quickly she determines the source, and when Lady Argent’s searching gaze comes to rest on her, she smiles beneath her suit and tilts her head to the side, a silent invitation to get out of dodge.
Lady Argent frowns, looking back to Julia, still occupied with making sure she’s in the best position for photos. Then back to Kelly, who shrugs, turning her hands out in a resigned, “what can you do?” motion. She watches Lady Argent glance back, and forth, then back and forth again, before she looks Kelly right in the eyes, and nods.
Excellent. Kelly feels her smile growing wider as her day is looking a lot less dull than it had a moment ago. It’s no effort at all to just slide out the back, everyone too preoccupied with the force of nature that is Julia Ortega to notice that there’s 67% less hero in the picture than there was a second ago.
Kelly leads the way through one alley that turns into another, wondering if she should start up some conversation. Lady Argent beats her to the punch, however.
“Does that always happen?”
Kelly glances back, caught on the mixed amusement and annoyance in Lady Argent’s voice. “More often than I’d like it to,” she answers. “Going on patrol with Julia is basically impossible nowadays.”
Lady Argent’s lips twitch. Smile or frown? Something about the metallic shine to her makes it hard to tell. “Great.”
Rangers don’t often go on patrol anyway. A waste of budget, when there are so many vigilantes and minor heroes out there willing to do it without having to be paid salaries for it. Kelly’s toyed on and off with the idea of joining the Rangers for real, because even ignoring the immediately obvious dangers it’s the dream that just won’t die. But she doesn’t think she could live without this, the patrols, the sense that she is doing something right. It’s the vigilante’s soul in her, she supposes.
“Are we actually going anywhere or is this the tour of the city that I was promised?” Lady Argent speaks up again, derailing Kelly’s train of thought. “Lot more alleyways than San Fransisco, if that’s the case.”
“Well, we could do that, I guess…” But Kelly’s not quite that much of an asshole to just wander about aimlessly without leaving Julia a way to catch up; she doesn’t carry her phone with her when she’s in costume. Her mind starts fanning through the possibilities that leaves them. “But actually, are you hungry?”
Lady Argent blinks in surprise. Her confusion is quickly covered up by caution. “I could eat,” she says cagily.
Kelly’s smile just keeps on growing. “Great. Then I’ve got just the place.”
As a general rule, Kelly doesn’t set out intending to like people. Telepathy’s kind of primed her to expect the worst out of a lot of people, even though she tries to avoid using it unless she absolutely has to. Maybe it’s the fact that she usually only tends to use telepathy against villains, but, well, point still stands.
She likes Lady Argent.
It’s difficult not to. She’s picked up details about the Rangers’ newest addition prior to this, of course; Julia couldn’t stop talking about her. The mental impression she has of Lady Argent is scattered, piecemeal. A decorated vigilante from San Fransisco--and that is a whole other level of implication in its own right; she’s heard the stories of goings-on there. A good fighter. Popular, reasonably. Pretty. That’s not much information to base a judgement off of. Getting to know her a bit more now, Kelly can definitely, unambiguously say this: she likes Lady Argent. A lot.
Argent’s sharp in ways that straddle the line of abrasiveness, but she’s fun, too. Sharp mind, sharp wit, and a sharp tongue make for a fun combination, and Kelly enjoys chatting with her. Hoots tends to set her at ease, but even then, talking with Lady Argent over snacks and drinks is something that comes easily.
‘Julia’s conditioned you,’ she thinks wryly to herself.
“You’ve got quite the fanclub yourself, you know,” Argent says. For all that it’s a casual chat between acquaintances, Kelly can’t help but feel that Argent is still trying to evaluate her in turn. “For “sticking it to the man” and all that, not joining up with the Rangers. I’m only surprised no one was there for you either.”
Kelly’s surprise is probably noticeable. Intellectually, she knows that it exists. There are fansites dedicated to most of Los Diablos’s notable heroes, and Sidestep is no exception. It’s just… weird. Good? But still very, very weird to think about, in a way that makes her heart squeeze, uncomfortable but in a way she likes. She never expected to be a role model. Someone to look up to. Someone worth looking up to.
She takes a sip of her drink as cover while she gets herself back under control. As observant as Argent is, she can only hope that still having most of her mask on hides the worst of it. “Well, we’re lucky that they weren’t. We’d be stuck there forever if that’s the case.”
“Guess so.”
Silence settles for a time, filled in only by the lazy, slow music that Owl likes to put on. They’ve run the gamut of most easy conversation, swapping vigilante stories and one-upping each other about the weirdest villains they’ve come across. A side trip into a conversation about hobbies, good-natured arguments about music taste (‘and lack thereof’, Kelly thinks, childishly, gleefully) and general small talk was enough to pass the time. But something settles now, just a little hint of awkwardness to the quiet. Even if conversation had flowed easily before, there’s still a lot that Argent doesn’t speak about.
Not that Kelly begrudges her for her secrets. She’s keeping a lot of her own, too.
Argent breaks the silence first. That’s a habit of hers, or maybe just personality. She’s a lot like Julia, blunt and direct. No beating around the bush when it comes to either of them.
“So, why were you there?” Argent asks, in between devouring a sandwich. Kelly tilts her head, not understanding the question, and Argent clarifies, “At my orientation. Didn’t know that non-Rangers were invited.”
Kelly purses her lips. “Well, I was.”
"I win," says Julia, says her cloud-white grin and glitter-glass sparks. She's radiant like this, under the fading sun. Shadows cross the angles of her face just right, golden light spills over her face just so—it's like even the world itself loves Julia Ortega, reveres her, and shows its adoration by taking her and making art.
‘You too, huh?’ Kelly thinks wryly towards the sky. She's lucky her mask hides her half-resigned smile.
"Yeah, yeah," she grumbles, giving Sharkinator's mind a quick scan to make sure that he's really out. Still no trace of conscious thought; good. Makes things easier when the cavalry arrives to bring him in. "Sue me for thinking he wouldn't be dumb enough to stand in a puddle, again."
They do this often, make stupid bets to exchange for favors or dares. It's part and parcel of crime-fighting now; Kelly's hard-pressed to remember a time before they started this ritual. By this point she's probably won about as many as she's lost. Julia doesn't make safe bets. In fact, when it comes to her, there's not much of a safe anything.
(Though it's not as if that was ever a deterrent.)
"What do you want this time?" Kelly asks as Julia saunters over. What's that phrase? Nature abhors a vacuum? Well, force-of-nature Julia Ortega certainly has a dislike for it, too, and all similar things: distance, absence, space. Her shoulder presses, warm and solid, against Kelly's when she crouches down to help secure the Sharkinator.
"Come and help show the newbie around with me," Julia says. "This weekend is her orientation. Steel and Themmy both have things to do and I can't show her around the whole city myself."
Kelly frowns. "Why not ask Ashfall?" She'd have thought that an orientation would've been an Official Rangers Only kind of deal.
"I could," Julia admits freely, "but someone has to stay on call. And even if he was available, I won our bet. And I’d rather have you."
Something in Kelly's chest stutters at those words, stops and restarts. She can't let herself linger on the sensation, so she pulls it to her mouth instead, curls her lips into a smile even though Julia won't see. "Fine then, twist my arm," she says. If nothing else, she won't deny that she's been a bit curious about this new recruit that Julia's spoken about. "You said this Saturday?"
"Saturday morning," Julia confirms with a triumphant grin.
Sharkinator safely restrained and ready to be taken in, she stands up and offers Kelly a hand. While Kelly hauls herself up, Julia's gaze skitters to the twilight-streaked sky above. "But anyway, job well done here, and we've got some time to kill... what do you say to dinner? I'll cook?"
Give Julia one bite and she'll ask for the whole feast. But feed a stray once, and it will love you for life.
"Sure," Kelly agrees. "Dinner sounds good."
She hopes it isn't obvious how her answer is, was, and will always be: yes.
Kelly shakes herself out of the memory, trying not to linger on those words, again. The ones that Julia keeps saying, if not in words then always with action: “I choose you.”
Hard to hide a shiver at that. Kelly has never been a choice before. She's been a fallback, a convenient solution, an unfortunate necessity. Never a choice.
But she was Julia’s choice. And that’s important. That matters.
Lady Argent doesn’t look satisfied by her brief answer, so Kelly shrugs and just says, “Julia asked. I said yes. She’s a hard person to say no to.”
“Is she.” There’s a peculiar tone in Argent’s voice that makes Kelly look up. She can’t exactly decipher the expression on Argent’s face but there’s something to the grin that’s just a little bit prey, but a whole lot predator. Something sly sneaks into her words along with the implication when she says, “So, you and Julia, huh?”
Kelly almost chokes on her drink. “Me and Julia?” she asks, voice nearly cracking. “What do you mean, me and Julia?”
Like a shark sensing blood, Argent doesn’t let up. “Oh, nothing.” Faux-casual as you please, Argent leans back against the booth. “Just that you two seem pretty close.”
Kelly’s heart constricts again. “Julia and I aren’t-” Aren’t… what? What is she hoping for here, hoping against? Her hands curl into fists, and she looks away from Argent’s skeptical face, quirked eyebrow and disbelieving smirk.
One deep breath. Let it out. Then Kelly flattens out her hands on the table. “It’s not like that,” Kelly says, proud of how she keeps her voice steady. No matter how much she wants otherwise, that’s the truth of it.
Argent scoffs. “Considering how Julia never shuts up about you, that’s hard to believe. I swear, half the words out of her mouth are, ‘Sidestep this,’ and ‘Sidestep that.’ It was a long evaluation period and that didn’t help.” Despite her words, there’s something encouraging in her voice. Kind and gentle like worn cotton.
Warmth surges through Kelly’s chest. She’s forgotten how overwhelming hope can feel, a labyrinth that makes you want to stay. The best kind of temptation, and that makes it the worst, too. “It’s not like that,” she says again, quieter now.
Softly, Argent says, “But it could be. At least, that’s how it looks from where I’m sitting.”
Argent looks like she wants to say something more. She opens her mouth, then closes it. And then rallies after a breath. “Food for thought,” she says, injecting lightness into her tone. “But anyway, Julia’s talked a lot about you. Said you’re good in a fight.”
“I’m all right,” Kelly says, flexing her hands. “Better than Julia,” she adds, because she really can’t resist the chance to fit a dig at Julia into any conversation. Some people might call it a failing.
“Yeah? We’ve sparred a bit during my probation period.” Argent pauses, then amends, “A lot. We sparred a lot. She’s pretty good.”
“And I’m better.”
Argent’s hands are flexing, her smile . Kelly’s mind is telling her this is where fight or flight should be kicking in. There’s a predator gleam in Argent’s eyes, her grin just this side of hungry.
No, not hunger, closer to anticipation. Less about need, more about want.
Fight or flight, and it’s not even really a choice. Argent’s vigor is contagious, not that Kelly’s trying very hard to resist getting dragged along by the rising tide of tension. She’s never been one for playing things safely.
“Want to put your money where your mouth is?” Argent asks, and those are just the magic words that Kelly’s been waiting for.
“I’m always up for putting a rookie in their place,” she returns, digging around her coat for her stash of emergency cash. Julia usually covers the bill when they eat out, but Kelly’s not about to dine and dash. She’s not an ass, and Owl really might break her nose again for that.
“Rookie?” The affront in Argent’s voice is mostly for show; there’s no hiding her smile. “Better get ready to lose. You, me, the gym back at Ranger HQ?”
There’s a brief pause, a stutter in conversation that Kelly almost uses for an opportunity to respond. But Argent looks like she makes up her mind about something, and adds, challengingly, “Loser pays for dinner.” She holds her hand out to seal the deal with a handshake.
Kelly’s lips twitch. She really, really likes Argent. No one can ever accuse her of playing it safe. “You’re on.”
And like an opening door, like seeing the horizon stretch out beyond her, boundless, infinite -- she takes Argent’s hand.