Archive of Our Own ^beta

It's Raquelle who begs to stay, which is both strange and oddly endearing, since Barbie's never seen her so much as say "please" when she orders a shake at Wally's.

"This whole place is just, y'know, wow!" Raquelle says, gesturing towards the golden pillars and curling pink railings that encompass the palace.

Graciela seems to think on it.

"Very well. A few days more. You may stay as my personal guests, of course," she agrees at last.

"Um, your majesty, with all due respect, I - "

The princess waves away Ken's words. "Don't worry, Ben, I'll have you home in two beats of a butterfly's wing."

Ken rolls his eyes and Barbie presses her knuckles to her lips to hide her laughter.

She waves as Ken steps back through the portal and into the Malibu sun. He looks relieved as the portal swirls closed with a flash.

Raquelle hardly notices. She's too entrances by a series of glittering tapestries hanging by the fountain in the grand hall. She darts between them, eyes bright.

"Are you sure you don't mind us staying in the palace?" Barbie asks.

Graciela shakes her head. "It's the least I can do for the girls who freed my from a love potion and reunited me with my dearest friends. Don't even mention it, dear."

There's a slight hardness to her voice. Barbie gathers Graciela isn't fond of any sort of questioning of her judgements, however polite it may be.

"I'll have the guest suite prepared for you. Lacey!" The princess waves over a short fairy with gossamer blue wings. "Make sure the suite is ready for our guests."

Lacey nods dutifully and zips away.

"Um, your highness? I have so many questions about your society, do you mind?"

Raquelle's voice pops out of nowhere as she practically appears by Barbie, fluttering so she's in front of the princess, unintentionally but effectively blocking her path. The tips of her wings tremble. Barbie's never seen her so vibrant. It's hard to look away.

Raquelle plows on without waiting for an answer. "How long have fairies existed? Have you always been this fabulous?"

Graciela's smile is slightly plastic. Barbie recognizes it as the smile she used to wear during promotional shoots with Raquelle, and her chest feels sort of gross for a second.

"I'm sure there's someone who can answer your questions, Raquelle. But a princess has other duties," Graciela says, her voice calm as she starts to flutter away.

"Wait! Why is the princess the monarch? Did you have a - ?"

Barbie grabs Raquelle's wrist.

"Hey, watch it! What are you doing? I'm trying to get us publicity info here!" Raquelle snaps, and the voice Barbie remembers. It's like a cool breeze, waking her slightly from the glittery stupor of the fairy world.

"I just think we want to stay on Graciela's good side by not) asking her a million questions," Barbie explains.

Raquelle opens her mouth to retort, but her eyes change to something kinder, the look Barbie saw when they hugged in the fury sphere, wise and sweet and lavender-scented.

"Okay, you're right." She shudders, laughing. "I don't know if I'm ever getting used to saying that."

Barbie finds herself laughing along. Their voices sound nice together, bouncing off the glittering palace walls like stones skipping across a pond.

Barbie observes the tapestries that Raquelle seemed so interested in earlier. They don't look like fabric, not really; the silvery threads look like strands of light. The scenes emblazoned across the vibrant backdrops are just as luminescent and cheery: tiny, butterfly-like fairies and their queen, fairies nestled in tulips and buttercups, fairies at war and at feasts and weddings.

"We've got to ask Graciela about all this!" Raquelle says, noticing Barbie's fascination. "I mean, it's like a whole new culture!"

Barbie nods. "These are definitely more exciting than history lectures with Dr. Kevke, huh?"

Raquelle groans. "Ugh, he's the worst!" She suddenly gets a gleam in her eye, placing a finger on her upper lip in an imitation of the doctor's bushy mustache. "Now, Barbie, pay attention to my boring voice! Blah, blah blah!" She says, her voice comically deep and shaky.

Barbie bursts into laughter again, and Raquelle joins her, slinging an arm around her shoulder as they finally reach the guest wing.

"What do you think fairy bedrooms are like?" Barbie muses, looking over the tall, gilded doors.

Raquelle shrugs. She grabs one of the handles, half of an intricately ornate gold butterfly. "As long as there's a jacuzzi tub, I'm not complaining."

She gives the handle a tug. For a moment, the doors don't budge. Then, a shower of glitter seems to burst from the wings and the doors swing open on their own.

"Oh, wow!" Barbie says, at the same time that Raquelle says, "Holy shit!"

The room is all gold and marble and silks in bright pastels. There's a balcony with a fountain that pours pearly water into the endless sky. In the corner is a walk-in closet, the hems of the latest fairy fashions peering out from hooks and drawers. The bed in the center looks large enough for an entire slumber party, packed with pillows and blankets, draped all around by gossamer curtains that shimmer every color of the rainbow.

"Uh, Raquelle?"

Raquelle looks up from her phone, finger hovering over the photo app. "Yeah?"

"There's only one bed," Barbie explains, gesturing.

"So? It's big enough," Raquelle replies, marching over and flopping down to prove her point. "Fuck, it's soft."

"Is it?" Barbie asks, approaching.

"Yeah. Just feel, right here - hah!"

As Barbie bends to prod the mattress, one of the many embroidered silk pillows crashes into her head, followed by a triumphant yell from Raquelle.

"Hey!" Barbie exclaims, ducking towards the headboard to fire back.

Raquelle is too busy laughing at her own prank. The pillow smacks her on the cheek with a whump. She looks up at Barbie with mock fury. "Bitch?"

The pillow fight continues as the sun fades behind the cloudy nebula surrounding Gloss Angeles. By the time Lacey knocks to inform the pair that dinner is being prepared, the marble tiles are strewn with colorful silken cushions.

Barbie leans back against the bed. "I don't wanna clean all that up."

"Me neither," Raquelle agrees, lying on her back so her feet face the opposite of Barbie, heads still close together.

There's a slight shushing noise, and the girls watch as all the pillows magically levitate and arrange themselves back on the bed in rainbow order.

Raquelle laughs again, poking on of the pillows. "This place is so cool," she declares. "No more house cleaning, or bad hair, or stubbed toes."

"It's pretty nice," Barbie admits. "But I think I'd miss laughing at your bad hair days."

"Hey!" Raquelle sits up, glaring. She tries to look truly angry, but she can't quite manage. The shifting colored lights around her make her face look kind and beautiful as she fights back a smile. Eventually she gives up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and standing. "C'mon, we're gonna be late. You're the one who didn't wanna get on the princess' bad side."

Barbie can't argue, so she flutters up and after Raquelle.

The first problem arises when they're going to bed.

Something neither had anticipated about real, live wings was that they made it hard to sleep back to back, or facing the same way. Back to back they would bump each other (not painful, but certainly uncomfortable) while facing the same way meant someone got a face full of fairy dust with every breath.

So they lie face to face.

Barbie's asleep in minutes. Raquelle's pretty sure she's just a control freak who likes to stick to her schedules.

Raquelle's vice is the opposite: she can't stay consistent to save her life.

Like all things Barbie does, she sleeps perfectly. Her lips are just slightly parted, face permanently in the ghost of a pleasant smile.

Raquelle wants to roll her eyes but she's been staring for longer than she'd like to admit so she closes them instead, listening to the soft sounds of palace wind chimes on the breeze.

There's a lot she'll never tell Barbie. Not if she can help it.

Somehow, she falls asleep. When she wakes up, Barbie is singing pop songs in the bathroom and the sun is painting the sky orange and pink and red.

Princess Graciela arranges for her guests to get a proper tour of the city and its amenities. She also assures them they'll be the guests of honor at the public wedding banquet in the evening. She assures them this is a different celebration that the semi-private wedding banquet the previous evening.

"They like to party, huh?" Raquelle murmurs over breakfast.

"I mean, everyone loves to party," Barbie points out.

It's a solid point and Raquelle loves to watch Barbie dance so she shrugs and relents.

Aside from having no ground and being made almost entirely from glittering, magical stone, Gloss Angeles isn't too different from Malibu. There's malls and boutiques and museums and offices and even a beach.

Raquelle loves it all. Here, no one knows her as Barbie's mean co-star. No one knows Barbie as the better version of Raquelle. It feels normal as they flutter down the streets, loaded down with gift bags and laughing with each other.

It's exactly what Raquelle used to hope would happen, if Barbie ever asked to sit with her. She never wanted a rivalry, or a famous friendship. She just wanted Barbie.

Like most things, Barbie stayed out of her reach. But it was fine. It was always fine. They could be friends. Raquelle was so. Over. It.

"Raquelle! This dress would look perfect on you!"

Barbie's hand is around her wrist, dragging her to a shop window. It's a deep blue dress, catching the light with shades of turquoise and pearl.

"You think?"

Barbie's hand is still around her wrist. The tips of her fingers just barely brush against Raquelle's palm.

"Totally. It would go so well with your hair." Barbie reaches up to brush some of Raquelle's hair back.

"Let's, um...let's go check it out, then!" She says, a little too loudly. She pulls her wrist out of Barbie's touch and ducks inside.

It's probably a nice dress. Raquelle hardly notices, even as she steps out of the dressing room and spins so Barbie can applaud and cheer.

She likes Barbie's attention on her, though. She likes not fading into her background.

Eventually, they go to eat. Fairy food is mostly sweet, and Raquelle, who's never had much of a sweet tooth anyway, struggles.

"How can they have all this magic and no potato chips?" She asks, throwing her hands up in the air, exasperated.

Barbie giggles over her third rainbow frappe. "I'll buy you a whole cart load when we get back."

The old Raquelle would probably have scoffed and insisted she didn't need pity, especially not from Barbie.

The new Raquelle would laugh and say thank you and tease Barbie about her millions.

But the Raquelle right now says neither. Instead, she says, "Do we have to go back?"

Barbie tilts her head. "Of course! We have a whole life back there."

Raquelle leans back in her chair, nodding. "Yeah, I know, it's just...what if I don't want that life?"

What if I want this life, with you? Raquelle thinks. What if I want it to be just us in this actual magic city? Is that so crazy?

"Raquelle..." Barbie shifts forward and places a hand on top of Raquelle's. "If you stayed, I'd miss you. Who else would tear my dresses on the red carpet?"

With a groan, Raquelle crosses her arms, pulling her hand away. "Come on, that was one time!"

Raquelle tells herself she'll want to go back. She tells herself she'll miss drives by the beach and Wally's burgers and her dorm with posters of Paris and London.

But she doesn't.

Barbie asks her to dance at Graciela's public wedding gala and dips her under a floral archway and Raquelle wishes on all the fairy magic that she'd kiss her.

(She doesn't.)

She wakes up to Barbie's arm around her on accident and she hopes she'll wake up and hold her.

(She doesn't.)

She's on the balcony the evening before they leave, perched on the edge, legs swinging absently over the endless sky that seemed so frightening only a week before.

"Still wanna go back?" Raquelle asks.

Maybe her voice sounds a little too hopeful.

Barbie smiles slightly. "I do love it here. But we have to go back."

Raquelle groans, flopping back on the balcony, wings flat under her body. "Why do we have to go back, Barbie? For our fans?"

"Well...no. But if we stay, we can't go back. Everyone will wonder where we've gone. We have friends, and family, and we can't just - "

She's right, and Raquelle hates it. The old sore on her heart begins to ache again.

"I hate that you have to be right all the time," she says, the anger in her voice losing its edge against the sunset sky as she sits up.

Barbie puts a hand on her cheek and Raquelle freezes. She grips the edge of the balcony as her heart begins to pound against her ribcage.

"Raquelle...why do you want to stay so badly?" Barbie asks quietly. Raquelle studies her face for a moment, wondering if she already knows.

She lets out the breath she'd been holding.

"I like you, okay? I like being here with you," she says. "And I'm afraid that when we leave it'll be just the way it was and you'll never look at me like this again."

And to her horror, Barbie laughs. She laughs and Raquelle jerks away from her, fluttering to her feet and glaring.

"See? We're not even back yet and I'm already beneath you. I can't believe I thought we could...ugh!"

She turns to storm back into the suite and lock herself in the bathroom. Another decade of rivalry darts through her mind in a second and her head hurts and -

Barbie's hand is around her wrist.

"Raquelle, wait!"

So she does.

Barbie gets to her feet, taking one of Raquelle's hands in each of her own.

"This doesn't have to stop when we go back. I don't like you because we're in this magic fairy place. I like you because you're you," She explains. "I didn't mean to laugh. I promise."

Eyes darting down, Raquelle bites her lip. "So...you do like me?"

"Of course I do! You're..." Barbie's voice trails off. "How long?"

Raquelle scoffs. "Basically since I met you. You were literally the most perfect person in the world. Everyone liked you," Raquelle says, a small smile on her face. "How about you? How long?"

Barbie shrugs. "Why do you think I was so excited to get to know you?"

And everything falls into place. Raquelle's never been the villain, after all. She puts a hand on Barbie's cheek. She feels a small mole under her ring finger and smiles softly.

Barbie lets out a breath. Her face is red and sweet and soft. Her eyes flutter closed as she leans forward, the shadows shifting across her face.

Raquelle follows her lead, trembling.

The kiss is short and slow and perfect and the sunset paints everything vibrant and rich.

The next morning, Raquelle holds Barbie's hand and she's ready to go home.

The Malibu sun beats down on the pavement of Wally's parking lot. There's not much of a breeze and Raquelle's hair is clinging to the back of her neck.

"Ugh, it's so hot!" She groans, her head falling back.

Barbie laughs, the straw of her root beer float clenched between her teeth. "You complain so much."

"Someone has to," Raquelle points out, pulling her hat down over her eyes. "Otherwise, how would things get changed?"

"Dunno, Raquelle. What would the world do without you?" Barbie asks, her voice teasing but affectionate.

"You'd still be stuck with that himbo," Raquelle points out.

"That's a terrible thing to say!"

"I'm terrible, B. You get used to it," Raquelle smirks. She doesn't feel too bad, either. Ken's getting over it pretty well.

Barbie yanks her hat off. Raquelle winces as the sun slices through her vision, but it's gone almost immediately as Barbie leans over her and kisses her.

"Thanks," Raquelle says. "You make great shade."

Barbie scoffs, mockingly offended as she moves again, sliding back into her seat and giggling as Raquelle curses at the bright sun.

The waves are crashing on the beach across the highway from Wally's, a steady rhythm punctuated by the shrill calls of seagulls.

"The princess decide to banish us yet?" Raquelle hums absently.

"Yeah," Barbie says, opening her phone. "Your fashion sense is just too blah for Gloss Angeles."

"Har, har." Raquelle rolls her eyes, but she glances over, eyebrows kit together in concern. "You're kidding, right?"

"Of course I'm kidding, babe! You look great. And the clothes do, too," Barbie grins.

"At least one of us does," Raquelle retorts smugly.

Barbie tackles her into the passenger seat, kissing her to make her shut up. Raquelle doesn't mind at all.