Work Text:
i.
Riri’s eyes are wild, flitting everywhere at once. She rearranges the wires once more and groans in frustration when the adjustment doesn’t work.
She’s tired, overworked and famished – God… when was even the last time she has eaten?
“Riri?”
Riri is too much in the zone to reply, lets the voice fly right past her.
And why won’t this fucking thruster work?
She’s about one second away from losing it when a warm hand finds her shoulder blades, “You need to slow down, baby.”
Riri freezes on the spot. Turns her head to the side to catch Shuri leaning over her shoulder and peaking at her work. There’s a small smile on her lips.
“Tell me.”
“Uhm?” Shuri’s gaze shifts from the thruster to the other girl.
“What is wrong with it. I know you’ve already noticed.”
“No.” Shuri says plain and simple and Riri blinks at her taken aback.
“What do you mean no? I’ve been working on this thing for hours, put me out of my misery.”
“You’ve been working yourself to the ground, it’s time to take a break.”
“She speaks…” Riri retorts and wants to immediately take it back.
Shuri’s still royalty and not just that, sure they have been kidnapped and maybe almost potentially killed together, but fact of the matter is that they’re still just little more than strangers to each other.
But Shuri seems more amused than anything else as she nods, “Point taken.” her hand is still pressing gently against Riri’s back, thumb moving in mindless circles.
Okay, little more than strangers could touch each other and call each other baby, right?
“Tell you what, if you promise me that you’ll go get some food right now, I promise that when you come back we can fix this thing together.”
Riri relents, mostly because she doesn’t really have a choice and she’s starving, but also because her brain is still stuck on that word.
She leaves the lab and lets her feet walk through the Royal Palace with a mind of their own. Shuri’s voice still echoing in her mind.
Baby.
ii.
The second time it happens it’s after the battle with Talokan. Wakanda has regained its hero and the Black Panther has never failed to protect Wakanda before. There is much to rebuild, too many decisions awaits but the morale is high. A few of the elders might still have some reserve towards Shuri, but sooner rather than later they will have to accept that the Princess is not a child anymore and she has been the one to step up and take the mantle when needed. Everything else will have to be discussed but not that. Never that.
Shuri walks in front of everyone, shaken and tired from the battle she just wants to rest for days.
Riri sides her, “That was noble of you, letting him live.”
Shuri is measuring her breaths with every step she takes, turns to Riri and does her best to muster up a smile, “It would have not been who I am.”
Riri understands, cannot know if she would’ve done the same in Shuri’s place, but then again Shuri herself didn’t really know what she was going to do before confronting Namor.
They walk side by side and when the hallway splits in two, Riri follows Shuri without thinking about it.
“What are you doing?”
Shuri turns around almost surprised to see her there and quickly looks past Riri's head to make sure that no one else is behind. Riri knows that something is wrong there and then.
“Just– needed to do something.” Shuri says, it’s honest but it’s not all, “And you should go rest and celebrate with the others. You played an invaluable role today, Riri.”
Riri accepts the compliment but her attention is caught by something else, “Move your hand, Shuri.”
Shuri looks at her, really looks at her, eyes deep and so intense they could burn a hole through an iron suit. She smiles to herself at Riri’s stubbornness, recognises the familiar trait and moves her hand from the spot on her stomach.
The suit has mended itself, shows no sign of wear or battle but Riri can see past it and through the façade. Shuri is not even sure why she would ever bother to lie to Riri in the first place.
“I’m okay,” she reassures.
“Take that thing off.”
No one except her mother, father and occasionally her brother and Nakia have spoken to Shuri with such concern and command in their voice. No one would be allowed to.
Sure, Okoye shouts at her often but then again Okoye is family to Shuri and that’s enough.
Riri though – Riri is… something else.
Against better judgement, Shuri keeps smiling and nods once, “Okay.”
When the suit comes off she’s left in nothing more than a tactical sports bra, a pair of boxer briefs and her Panther necklace. Riri can see the glint of Vibranium sewn in the clothes, tries to tear her gaze away but her eyes seem physically unable to stop looking at the woman in front of her.
If Shuri notices, she’s kind enough to not say anything. She taps something on a panel and a surgical bed slowly stretches out.
It’s only then that Riri sees it. There’s a deep wound in Shuri’s abdomen. It’s much bigger than a stab wound but close enough to what might have been a spear and when Shuri turns – good god... it makes Riri’s shiver in fear. The spear must’ve pierced her from one side to the other.
“H-how?” Riri stammers out.
Shuri lowers herself on the bed, the same where she had drank the heart shaped herb only a few days before.
“Kimoyo beads,” she answers with a grunt, “they can stabilize a wound long enough to prevent excessive blood loss and death.”
Riri swallows down hard, clears her throat and steps closer. She was there too when Shuri had become the Black Panther, had touched her shoulders, helped her feel comfortable with stupid jokes and anecdotes while Nakia took charge of preparing the herb.
“What can I do?” she asks. It’s sure and calm. Her presence a steady force to Shuri’s injured side..
Shuri points at the tablet on her work table in front of them, “Bring that, I’ll guide you every step of the way.”
When Riri offers the tablet, Shuri brushes their hands together, holds onto Riri’s longer. Nimble fingers wrapping around her wrist, thumb stroking her pulse-point, and Riri feels her heart skipping a beat.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
And Riri holds onto Shuri’s hand back with the same intensity, “I’m sure. Let me help you.”
Shuri trusts her, explains what needs to be done, remains still through the pain and when, at last, Riri exhales a tired “I’m done, but you should really consider getting Okoye to train you some more before you get your ass kicked saving the world next time.”
Shuri grins through heavy lids, painkillers already kicking in, “Who, me? You should see the other guy, baby.”
iii.
The third time it happens Riri is not in Wakanda anymore. She has been back home for a while and, despite her mother’s new protests, she has set off to return to Boston as well.
MIT’s course load was going to kick her ass and anyway Riri had already enough of being watched every step of the way as if she was going to disappear from one second to the other.
She understands her mom’s position, she really does, but then again it’s not like being kidnapped by an underwater nation had exactly been her choice.
At MIT, MJ and Ned are on her the second they can spot her figure. She hugs them so tightly that MJ starts complaining.
“Where the hell have you been?” she slaps Riri’s arm.
“Oh you know, just had to take care of something.” Riri tries to shrug nonchalantly.
“Yeah right,” MJ scoffs, “miss modesty.”
Riri sends her a questioning look.
“Nobody would say a word. When we asked, they told us not to worry about it, it was quite scary, Riri.” Ned supplies, “Then we heard through the grapevine that Wakanda recruited you for their Outreach Program.”
Ah.
So that was the lie that they had sold to explain her sudden disappearance. Riri can work with that.
“Right,” she says after a moment, “yeah, sorry guys, I was like sworn to secrecy and you know how seriously Wakandans take that stuff.”
MJ stares at her not convinced but refrains from asking more questions just now. Ned is an open floodgate though, he swings an arm around Riri’s shoulders and starts the interrogation.
“So, what can you tell us? How are their Outreach Centers? What do you do in there? Do you get to see any of the royal family?”
***
Shuri calls on a cold December morning. Riri has barely woken up and doesn’t bother to check the caller ID when she answers groggily.
“You better have a good reason to call me this early…”
There’s a chuckle on the other side of the line, “As a matter of fact, I do.”
The voice is enough to jolt Riri’s brain awake, “Shuri? I mean– you majesty?”
The laugh is crystalline, genuine amusement seeping through the tone, “No, no, I liked the first one better.”
Riri exhales a smile, “I thought you said communication through the Kimoyo beads was much more secure.”
“Yeah but you barely use them.”
Riri frowns, stretches a hand to open the drawer where her own personal set of Kimoyo beads are securely stored, “How do you even know that?”
She can sense the eye roll on the other side, “Cause I’ve tried to contact you multiple times already.”
“Oh…”
“Thought you enjoyed my company, you said you wanted to see me more, but since you left you’ve done a pretty good job at ignoring me.”
Riri feels too much at once. She’s mortified, upset at herself, flattered that Shuri wanted to hear from her so much that she has thrown precaution to the wind and just called her on a normal phone.
But where even to start with all of that?
“I’m not ignoring you– I would never, I’ve just… I was worried the beads would get people to talk.” good start, Riri mentally pats herself on the back, “And I enjoy your company, I really do, and I miss you and I want to see you again.” solid, time to stop now, “But I thought you were being nice to me when you said that you would come visit and didn’t really mean it.” oh my god just shut up.
There’s silence on the line, Riri checks her phone to see if the connection is still strong. It’s there, Shuri is definitely on the other side. Riri dreads the silence.
“I’m sorry if that hurt you or– I don’t know, maybe–”
“Riri,” Shuri cuts her off and it’s gentle, her voice warm and soothing, “baby, you’re overthinking. It’s all good, I was mostly kidding. I know you’re busy, you don’t need to justify yourself to me.”
There is it again the word that makes Riri’s chest explode like fireworks on the 4th of July.
And the worst thing is that Shuri is probably unaware of the effect she has on her.
It’s just a fucking word – Riri keeps repeating herself – get it together.
“Right, good,” she says after a moment, gathers enough of her scattered brain to form a coherent sentence, “so how’s everything there?”
Shuri sighs, “Long, complicated, full of meetings and politics I don’t really care about but we’ll make it work.”
“Can’t have the suit and the fun without consequences.” Riri jokes, it’s bittersweet and they both know it but Shuri chuckles at it just the same.
A beat.
“I’m glad you called me.” Riri says and it’s like a confession that weights in the air.
Shuri doesn’t let it hang for long though, “I’m glad you picked up.”
The moment is charged, Riri feels like they are both holding back from crossing an important line. It could be messy, dangerous even, but god it would be good.
She chases away the thought before it can root in her mind, “So, all I’m hearing is that you’re due a visit soon?”
Shuri clears her throat, as if diverting her attention to something else is physically hurtful, “It will be Christmas soon and I’ve got a gift for you.”
***
Riri can’t stop thinking about their conversation for days. And she tries, she really does, but the word keeps echoing inside her making her whole body thrum with anticipation and desire.
Baby. Baby. Baby.
iv.
“What about her?” Ned whispers.
Both Riri and MJ look up from their books to glance at the girl Ned is subtly pointing at.
“I told you guys, I’m not going to that dance.” Riri shakes her head and goes back to her work.
MJ wrinkles her nose, “It’s not a dance, it’s a Winter Formal, and Ned that girl is not even Riri’s type.”
Riri looks at her with a frown, “I don’t have a type.”
“Sure you do,” MJ tilts the sketch that has kept her occupied in the past half hour, “starts with nice curls and a lot of trauma.”
Sure enough, it’s an almost exact picture of Shuri that looks back at Riri from the page.
Riri pinches the bridge of her nose, “I should’ve never told you guys that I met her.”
“You didn’t tell us, I had to pry it off you.” Ned interjects.
“And I’ve regretted it ever since.” Riri finishes it off for him.
Someone shushes them from another table and MJ shows them her middle finger.
“Why is it that you’re not coming to the Formal again?” she asks after a moment.
Riri is busy solving an equation, tongue peeking from the side of her lips, when MJ slides the drawing under her nose effectively blocking her field of view.
“Oh look, you can barely function when you see her.” she singsongs.
“Very funny, MJ.” Riri flips her off unceremoniously, she’s tempted to tear that sketch to pieces but one more look at it and well, fuck, it’s like having Shuri’s eyes pierce directly into her own. MJ is an excellent artist, Riri will give her that, “I told you already, I’m going home to my family.”
“And we pretended to believe you.” MJ doesn’t lose a beat.
Riri cocks an eyebrow, “Wanna come home with me and see?”
“Please,” MJ snorts, “wouldn’t want to make your girlfriend jealous.”
“I talked about her once. Once.” Riri shuts her textbook, scribbled papers and drawing inside.
“For two hours.” Ned chimes in. He’s always less prone to push Riri’s buttons unlike MJ.
“She’s cool. Sue me if I was happy that one of the most brilliant minds ever existed found my work worth of notice.”
“Riri,” MJ chuckles like her friend is not getting the point, “your work is always brilliant, that’s not in question, but you have a crush.”
Riri indulges the words, if that’s the game MJ is playing then she won’t back down.
“Okay, so what?” she shrugs, “It’s not like anything is going to happen anyway.”
No, nothing is going to happen.
Except that Shuri does call her baby from time to time and it has Riri wanting everything to happen.
***
When she’s back to the safety of her dorm and takes the books out of her backpack, Shuri’s drawing slips out and Riri wants to scream to her pillow.
Because if seeing Shuri like that is enough to get her heart somersaulting, what the fuck is she going to do when she will really meet her again?
***
Shuri is all calculated steps and cautious looks around until she sees her.
Riri flings her arms around her neck, Shuri breathes her sweet scent in again and it feels like the entire world has stopped moving. Riri’s body is warm against her own, grounds her without the need to impose strength, and Shuri sighs contently against the skin of Riri’s neck.
“I missed you.” Riri speaks directly in Shuri’s ear, the words a soothing balm after weeks, months, of absence.
Shuri can feel the longing, wants Riri so much to match the confession with equal yearning, “I missed you too, baby.” she leaves an open mouthed kiss on the soft skin below Riri’s ear where her heartbeat is a wild melody.
Riri is absolutely, utterly, irremediably fucked.
v.
“–long story short, Mr. Morven doubted I could build it and make it work but guess what?” Riri pretends to do a drum roll with the hands, “You got it. I built it and it worked perfectly.”
Shuri chuckles at the enthusiasm in Riri’s voice, “I think I’ve heard this story before.”
“Uhm?”
“Someone telling you that you won’t be able to make something and then you go do it, it works and it potentially pisses off a few people? Yeah, definitely heard that.”
Riri’s chest deflates, “Well, shit, now that you mention it…”
They are walking in downtown Chicago, the city is full of Christmas lights and the shops are open late.
“Did you come just for me?” Riri asks after a few moments of quiet.
Shuri tilts her head, “What do you mean?”
“Like– you didn’t have other business to do around or… I don’t know, diplomatic stuff.”
“No,” Shuri shakes her head, the hint of a smile peeking from her lips, “just you.”
Fucked, Riri is royally fucked.
***
She’s a lightweight.
Riri should’ve known before deciding – under Shuri’s initiative of course – to introduce her to her family.
On their part, the Williams have kept their cool enough to make Shuri feel like any other guest. No royal, no Black Panther, just a fellow brilliant scientist who happened to cross paths with Riri.
So what if she came from Wakanda? People came from all over the place.
Besides, Riri is sure that her mom and stepdad are just happy to see that she is actually hanging around with someone responsible and isn’t just spending all her time alone building who knows what.
It seemed a great plan in theory.
In practice, she has a half drunk Shuri wandering around her childhood home in Chicago while her mother shows her pictures of Riri as a toddler.
“I thought royalty knew how to hold their liquor.” her sister nudges at Riri.
Riri gives her half a shrug, gaze focused on her mother and Shuri bonding over the family pictures, “She’s been too busy to learn how to drink properly.”
It’s an assumption, Riri doesn’t even know if Shuri is allowed to drink given her role and status.
Shit, the last thing she needs is to get in trouble with Wakanda again because she has gotten their heir to the throne drunk.
But then her mother’s voice drags her out of her thoughts, “– here is Riri taking her first bath.”
Okay, too much.
Riri jumps from the couch to where her mother is standing and closes the photo album with a decisive flick of her wrist, “Maybe we stop here for tonight.”
Shuri laughs at her reaction, eyes a bit unfocused but still warm and intense when they look at Riri.
She circles Riri’s shoulders with a long arm, “Relax baby, I think you were really cute.” she leans to the side to kiss Riri on the cheek.
Sharon looks at them with evident surprise on her face, raises an eyebrow, “Baby?” she mouths to Riri with a smirk.
+ i.
She’s back in Wakanda helping Shuri improving the exo-suit design set to expand to the entire Wakandan army when it happens again.
The word slips out almost offhandedly and Riri has enough.
They’ve been tiptoeing around each other for too long and she’s tired.
Not just tired of the endless back and forth, of the short time in which they see each other and the long months of absence when everything inside her aches for Shuri.
No, she’s tired of them not acknowledging that there’s something going on in the first place.
So when Shuri walks from one work table to the other, hand stretched and asks, “Will you pass me that set of wires, baby?”
Riri snaps, “You need to stop saying that.”
There’s a moment of pause that feels eternal.
No one else is in the lab with them given the late night hour, the music is off and the silence is deafening.
Shuri turns around, looks like a deer caught in headlights, “What?”
“I said you need to stop saying that.” Riri repeats.
“That what?”
Shuri’s messing with her head, she must be, “You know it.” Riri reiterates because it has to be a joke. It has to.
But Shuri frowns and is looking so innocently lost that Riri feels like crying, “Baby, what–”
“Oh my god, that!” Riri cuts her off, “You can’t just say that and expect me not to feel anything.”
The words are out and there’s nothing she can do to take them back.
Riri sees the realization dawning on Shuri’s face, braces herself for the rejection… that doesn’t come.
Instead,
“And what does it make you feel?”
Riri feels the breath catching in her throat, feels the ripple and crack of the tension building at the end of that question.
Shuri’s words are honest, her face unable to hide the eagerness of hearing Riri’s answer.
And jesus fuck, how did they even got to that point, Riri wonders.
The sweet and slow crescendo to togetherness is driving her insane.
“Everything.” Riri exhales at last, the weight on her chest suddenly dissolving.
And maybe Shuri can still reject her, maybe she’s the type to let someone down tenderly, or maybe… maybe they can have this. Maybe they can be more.
Either way, Riri is done trying to tame her wild heart.
“So if you don’t mean it, then–”
“Riri,” with two long steps Shuri is in front of her, hands framing Riri’s face as she gently lets their forehead touch, “baby,” Shuri whispers directly on her lips, “there’s not one single time in which I did not mean it.”
Oh.
Well, then–
Riri’s mouth is on her in a split second. A mix of surprise and pleasure echoes in the back of Shuri’s throat as she responds with equal readiness. She lets Riri guide her backwards until her lower back is met with the cold metal of one of the work tables.
Riri kisses her deep and slow, lips savouring and curious at the same time. Shuri lets her explore, indulges the hands that are trying to touch her everywhere at the same time. She turns them around, hooks her hands on the back of Riri’s knees and hoists her up on the work table. Riri’s thighs squeeze around her hips and flush their bodies together.
Shuri chokes a moan inside Riri’s mouth and presses her even closer. If there’s a possible way to be closer than that, Shuri wants to discover it soon.
“Wait,” Riri breaks the kiss enough to breathe, fingers never relenting the grasp on the curls she has come to love since the beginning.
Shuri hums to signal she’s listening as she tilts Riri’s head to kiss and bite the expanse of her neck and throat. It makes it hard for Riri to keep her eyes open. It makes it extra hard not to just give in to those hands and mouth. She intends to and she will.
“Got a better place where we can take this?” she finally rasps out.
Shuri bites at her lobe, Riri can feel the curve of her smile against the shell of her ear, “Whatever you want, baby.”
***
The next time it happens, Riri loses count. It doesn’t matter, as long as it’s with Shuri.