Chapter Text
A cool evening breeze brings the tang of salty seawater, the sky a summer sunset, its canvas swirled in deep purples and bright pinks. Waves seem to rise and fall with the breaths of the ocean, climbing up into the shoreline before retreating again, the cycle repeating endlessly as it always had.
The sand, still warm from the suns glow, burns the bottoms of her feet where she crouches behind a rock, fingers gripping the rough, jagged surface to support herself when she sits up higher to peer over the stone. A palm tree's fronds cast a shadow over her, and an old, abandoned truck sits stagnant a few feet away from her, further assisting in keeping her hidden.
While Boombox knew she should probably get up and retrieve her sandals before they were swept away by the water or stolen by some jerk again, she didn't want to risk disturbing the figure overlooking the edge of the beach, captivated by their beauty.
Their back faces her, long, thin legs submerged just about half-way up their calves in the water lest their elegant summer dress grow wet. The light fabric drapes around their figure perfectly, modest enough to leave a little to the imagination and billow fluidly in the wind, yet tighter around their torso to hug subtle curves.
Long, curly hair flows in the breeze, gentle like silk ribbons. Their horns curl around their head like those of a deer, mint green and well-kept, smooth, devoid of any chips or blemishes like Boombox's were, a gold ring hooked around one of the little branches.
Medkit.
If perfect existed, it would be Medkit, the DJ thinks. Poised, altruistic, patient, intelligent, — an angel!
And Boombox was... Well, none of the above.
Medkit begins to turn around, and Boombox has to duck down to avoid being seen, chewing her lip out of anxious habit.
The healer gives a tired exhale through her hooked nose, her ever fatigue-riddled expression a little lighter than it usually was during phights, features softened into something more akin to a neutral. Contentment. She begins walking, small droplets sliding down her tan skin when she leaves the water, instead heading in the direction of the parking lot leading out to the main road.
Boombox immediately sighs in relief, thankful she wouldn't have to embarrass herself trying to talk to her, stuttering and stumbling over her words as though she were speaking to a goddess. Medkit might as well have been to her, even if the notion was absolutely ridiculous —
Medkit stops in her tracks, hands clenching at her sides, shoulders tensed to a concerning degree.
Boombox should've have realized that she was bound to be caught trying to spy on Medkit of all Inphernals, the healer’s attention to detail and silence able to pick up on the slightest shifts in her surroundings, a skill she learned out of necessity to survive. You can only observe another observer for so long before the inevitable happens.
And, if the way Medkit full bodily turns to warily eye the area Boombox was cowering within, it had.
"I know you're there," Medkit's flat voice cuts through the air, tinged with that accent Boombox could never quite pinpoint, though the slight waver at the end of her next words gives away her unease, "Show yourself."
Shit.
"I'm not in the mood for this," She grumbles under her breath, rubbing her temple, "Broker, if you're trying to scare me again, it's not going to — "
"Medkit!! Hi — I mean, heyyyyy!" Boombox bursts while stumbling to her feet, garnering a harsh flinch from Medkit, her hand instinctively flying to where her gun holster normally sat.
Brows raised a tick, she clears her throat and straightens her posture to brush off her own startle, relief clear in her tone when she mumbles, "Boombox."
"Yep! That's me! Uh, the one and only! Well, I guess there are other gears like mine, but not like, the exact — " too caught up in her awkward rambling, she trips over herself from her attempt at retrieving her sandals left haphazardly on ground, the sand billowing when her knees and hands break her fall.
Before Medkit could so much as offer a hand to help her up, Boombox scrambles to stand, dusting herself off with a nervous chuckle while sliding her feet back into her flip-flops.
Gods, this close, she could really admire Medkit's appearance. It was strange to see the healer in such casual clothing, a stark contrast to the usual attire she wore; long skirts that nearly caught on the soles of her boots, thick button ups and oversized jackets, the fabrics swallowing her frail body up.
So to see her wear something like this? Boombox felt like a damn Victorian man salivating at the sight of a lady's exposed ankle, the circles on her visor widening.
"... You were saying?" Medkit prods quietly, head lolling to the side, impassive in the way she shifts her weight from one foot to the other.
"Oh! Yeah, uh," she swallows thickly, gaze snapping up to meet hers to pretend she hadn't so blatantly been ogling, "Funny — it's funny seeing you here, y'know, at the beach. This beach. Where I uh, also just so happened to be."
Boombox internally winces, resisting the urge to grimace.
"Mhm. It is."
"What brings you here today?" She asks in lieu of topics, "I don't think I've ever seen you out here before. And no offense, but you don't exactly give off very nature loving, outdoorsy vibes."
"I suppose I don't," she hums in agreement, eye drifting towards the skyline, "Needed to clear my thoughts. I don't have very much free time these days, and I figured it would be a waste not to use it. Besides, I love the sun. Makes me feel free."
Boombox nods, following her gaze, appreciating the new tidbit of information.
"What about you?" Medkit then inquires, hands folding politely together.
"Oh! I come here every weekend, actually. Just to chill out, let the sound of the waves wash my worries away, and come up with some jams while I'm at it," She digs into the pocket of her shorts, retrieving a tiny notepad, "Here, check it out!"
Medkit carefully takes the notepad from her, flipping to a recent page and squinting at the lyrics, thumb absentmindedly smoothing out the corner of the paper.
"These are... Surprisingly profound." She marvels, intrigue flashing across her face, "And you write these yourself?"
"Uh-huh!" She eagerly affirms, excited that Medkit was taking interest in her work, "You like it?"
"I do. It encapsulates the feeling of longing wonderfully, and the words fit the melody quite well." She affirms, tracing her finger along the notes hastily sprawled across the page and humming to the music.
"Wait, you can read sheet music?"
"Mhm. I used to play piano." She explains, something of nostalgia relaxing her posture while she flips to the next page.
"Used to?" She repeats, "Why'd you stop?"
In place of a verbal answer, she simply raises a brow, gesturing to her eyepatch.
"Ah..." She sucks air through her teeth in regret, glancing away.
Medkit doesn’t seem bothered, however, spending another few moments perusing the pages before wordlessly returning the notepad.
Some silent seconds pass.
And then some more.
And then, "Do you wanna go get some ice cream?" Tumbles from Boombox's mouth before she can stop herself, cheeks warming to a frustrating degree.
"... Ice cream?" Medkit parrots stiffly, the words sounding foreign on her tongue, blinking owlishly.
"Yeah! Sling's Cafe is just up the road, he's got tons of flavors." She continues, finding it too late to backtrack on her bold invitation.
"Mm." Is the only vague response she gives for a moment, gaze leaving hers, then reluctantly admitting, "I don't have anything on me, I left my purse at home. "
"Thennnnn, it'll be my treat!" She offers with a smile, visor displaying happy little crescents.
Medkit's expression becomes one of contemplation, hands wringing together in idle fidgets, and it surprises the both of them when she breathes out, "If you insist."
And that's how Boombox finds herself walking side-by-side with the woman of her dreams.
Cicadas sing to the evening, beckoning the nights embrace, the sun slipping out of view on the horizon. The asphalt path guides the pair towards their destination, the only sounds left to fill the absence of banter being the whirring of cars as they pass.
The building was certainly hard to miss; painted in a pastel blue, obnoxiously cutesy cat themed decor adorning most everything, and of course, an overabundance of flora curated by Vine Staff surrounding the premises.
The faint jingling of a bell signals their arrival when Boombox pushes open the door, stepping aside while holding it open for her, putting on an exaggerated British accent to jokingly drawl, "After you, m'lady."
Medkit only gives her a nod, following her inside, wedged sandals clacking against the hard-wood floors.
The overpowering scent of coffee immediately fills her nostrils, burnt, bitter, and Boombox has to resist the urge to gag. Medkit seems to enjoy it, though, if the way she takes a deep breath through her nose is anything to go by.
Slingshot rests his elbows on the front counter by the cash register, cheek propped against his palm, a dopey smile stuck on his face while he hums and nods along to whatever Skateboard was rambling onto him about. The latter has his hand on his hip, the gap between his front teeth visible with his grin, head cocked to the side.
While Slingshot would normally be up and about frantically scrubbing tables, it was late enough that he didn't have to worry about many customers coming in, allowing him time to entertain his "guest".
Or at least, he would've.
"Well, well, well. Funny seeing you here." Boombox starts, sauntering up next to Skateboard.
"I work here." He scoffs, rolling his eyes playfully, "What do you want this time? Come to leech off my kindness and get more free food?"
"Me? Leech?" She huffs, placing a hand to her chest in mock-offense, "Never!"
"Sure, sure," He waves her off dismissively, then stretching his arms above his head and sighing in satisfaction when his bones finally pop, "What can I get you?"
"Ooh, uhhh..." her visors eyes narrow at the menu mounted on the wall, rhythmically tapping her finger against her chin, "I dunno which flavour I should get, I mean, the birthday cake one sounds pretty good. But do I feel adventurous today? Or should I just go with my usual instead?"
"Get the birthday cake one," Skateboard pipes up, "It's actually peak, dude. Way better than that bubble gum shit."
"Really?"
"Really."
She shrugs, "Alright, sure, three scoops of that! Oh, in a cone, though."
Slingshot nods, punching her order into the sleek little tablet screen, then imploring, "Is that everything?"
"No, actually, uh," Boombox steps aside, revealing the healer that has been hiding behind her, gesturing for her to step forward while mumbling, "It's your turn."
Medkit's posture is awfully meek for someone of her stature, shrunk in on herself as if out of desire to not be seen.
Slingshot and Skateboard exchange looks in silence, brows raised sardonically and mouths agape, taking in that yes, what they were seeing was not a shared hallucination as a product of hysteria, but in fact, Medkit. With Boombox.
And then, very obviously, Slingshot excitedly whispers to Skateboard, "It's happening!"
"Holy shit, she has W rizz?"
"Guys!" Boombox bursts to shut them up, eliciting harsh flinches.
"Sorry, sorry!" Slingshot giggles, then clearing his throat and turning his attention back to Medkit, "What would you like?"
Medkit manages to make eye-contact with Slingshot, inquiring, "How much do you charge per scoop?"
"Oh, uhm! The first is two bux, and every additional scoop after that adds another fifty cents." He explains, pointing to the menu for her to follow along.
"Ah. Just one, then."
"Are you sure?" Boombox interjects, "If you want more, get more, I don't care."
"You should. You're paying, it would be rude of me to add extra costs." She insists, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, "Besides, I doubt I could finish it all if I were to get more. It would be a waste."
Boombox frowns, but she drops it.
"What flavour?" Slingshot then asks, slender fingers hovering over the screen.
"Coffee. In a bowl, preferably."
"Ew." Skateboard scrunches his nose up in disgust, earning a scolding elbow to his gut from Sling.
"Anyways," he enunciates to ignore the pained whimper coming from the Skateboarder, eyes pleased crescents, "Will that be all for you today?"
"I think so!" Boombox beams, digging into her shorts to find her wallet.
She pays for their treats without hassle — giving a generous tip, she may add, and promptly spins around on her heels to scan over their seating options.
"Ooh, let's get one by the window, yeah?"
Medkit shrugs, allowing Boombox to lead her to the booth she selected.
The leather of the chairs was worn, crackled fabric covered in black masking tape in an attempt at hiding its age, and they creaked a tad to loud for Boombox's liking when she settled down across from her.
The table was plain, made of spruce, a pathetically small potted flower as the centerpiece. Though upon further inspection, it was likely plastic. Fake. Vine Staff would not approve.
Boombox taps her fingers rhythmically against the table to pass the time waiting for their order, and it catches Medkit's intrigue, astute eye following the movement.
"They look nice."
"Huh?"
"Your nails, I mean." She clarifies, gently taking her hand into hers so she could better inspect its design, thumbing over one of the 3D stars glued atop the black base coat, "Did you paint them yourself?"
"Oh!" A nervous chuckle escapes her throat, face burning up to an embarrassing degree from the bit of contact, "Yeah, I Uhm, I did! Got a set of nail stickers 'n stuff for my birthday a couple months ago, been trying to use it all up."
"Perhaps I'll have to get you to do mine sometime, then." She concludes, withdrawing her touch, "My hands aren't steady enough for intricate work like that these days."
"No? Too much caffiene?" She teases, resting her chin on her palm, "But yeah, I'd love to! Got anything specific in mind?"
"Mm, not really. I only ask that they aren't too long, so they don't get in the way."
"Fair enough!"
It gets quiet again.
Boombox's gaze drifts to the window, admiring the darkened sky, shadows enveloping the earth.
Growing up in playground, she often made time to stargaze, marveling at the constellations and speckles of light dotting the cosmos. In Crossroads, however, most of the stars were hidden thanks to light pollution, smog obscuring the view. A shame, really.
"I must ask, what motivated you to invite me?" Medkit suddenly asks the question that had been weighing on her, head lolling to the side, "We haven't spoken very much before."
"I dunno, you just seemed pretty hot." A pause, and then realization, "UHM — I mean like, in the sense that something cold to eat would help you cool off, y'know!! Not that you aren't hot, I mean, you are, wow you are, but — "
"Your ice cream," Slingshot says in that customer service voice he often puts on, thankfully rescuing Boombox from her frantic explaining by handing them their respective desserts.
He shoots Boombox a smug smirk before he leaves, smoothing out his frilly apron, then strolling back over behind the counter.
When she hesitantly makes eye contact with Medkit again, she's not met with offense, but amusement, the healers lips curled into little semicolons.
It has Boombox's shoulders relaxing, adorning her own, relieved smile, "Shush."
"I did not say anything."
"Okay, but you're thinking something."
"Maybe." Is all she hums out, poking at her ice cream with the little plastic spoon that had come with it.
Boombox huffs, then taking a fat lick of the top scoop all the way to the edge of the cone, delighted at the delicious, sweet vanilla flavours on her tongue. Though as she laps at her treat, she can't help but notice the way Medkit hardly touches hers, bites slow and her portions small.
"Does it taste bad?"
"Oh, no, it's just too cold." She dismisses, shaking her head.
"Too cold?" She parrots in genuine confusion, brows knit together.
"Yes. Hurts my teeth."
"Why?"
"I'm old." She mutters out in a deadpan of sorts, exasperated.
"Oh." Is all she says for a moment, pausing, then adding, "Wait, thirty isn't old!"
"It is."
"Nuh-uh! You're not."
"I am," she groans, running a hand down her face, "Boombox, I literally have a bottle of ibuprofen on my bedside at all times because of my stupid stiff back. That's not something someone who's young and hip would do."
Entertained by the way Medkit does air-quotes around the phrase "young and hip", Boombox's visor displays an eye roll, a scoff escaping her lips.
"Oh-kayyyyy then. If you really are, I'd say you look pretty good for an old person!"
"Stop it."
"Stop what?"
"You're flattering me." She acuses, gaze narrowed.
"Yeah?" She breathes out, confused as to what the problem was.
"Why?"
"Becauseeee I want to."
"Why?!"
"What, am I not allowed to compliment you?"
"No, I just..." She trails off, exhaling through her nose, "Forget it, apologies. I don't mean to come off cross, I just — I am unused to it, is all."
"That's okay," She assures, offering a warm grin, "Just means I'll have to get you un-unused to it!"
"Did you mean 'used' to it?"
"Oh. Yeah, I uh, I did."
Medkit's features soften, fingers tracing circles into the tables texture, feeling the grooves of the wood, "Well, I wouldn't be opposed to doing this again. It's been quite... Enjoyable."
"Really? I mean, yeah — yeah! Lemme just, uhh, get you my number so we can figure out something for next time." She immediately digs into her pocket with her free hand for her notepad and pen, tossing them onto the table to hastily scribble said number onto a blank page.
"... Oh," She sucks air through her teeth, eye flickering away, a frown tugging on her lips.
"Shit, sorry, did I do something wrong?" Boombox hurries out, her own face falling, "A-am I being to forward? Or — "
"No, no you're not, I just... I don't know when a 'next time' would be. I work a lot, very long, odd hours, and I don't want to disappoint you when I have to decline a majority of your invites."
Boombox doesn't respond right away, clicking the top of the pen open and shut while stuck in her own thoughts, before letting it fall from her grasp.
Instead, she tears the page out and holds it towards Medkit for her to take, a smile blooming on her expression once more, "Take it anyway. And if you find yourself with some free time again, and you think of me, just give me a call! No pressure."
Medkit only blinks at her for a moment, slowly taking the paper from her to examine, her gaze half-lidded, then firmly deciding, "I will."
"Good, good — y-yeah, uhm, cool!"
"Cool?"
"Cool!"
Medkit snorts from a failed attempt at stifling a laugh, eye crinkling when she drawls, "Alright, cool."
Silence falls between them, but it's comfortable this time, allowing Boombox to admire seeing Medkit acting so... Normal?
She had put her on a pedestal for so long, believing that the healer was above her, and would have no interest in conversing with her. And while Boombox still partially believed that, she was also pleasantly surprised to discover that Medkit, even if she was quite closed off in some regards, was honestly very easy to talk to.
It was surreal, and despite the fact the treat Boombox was eating was cold, she only felt warmth invading her, butterflies fluttering around her stomach.
Gods, the way Medkit was looking at her with that subtle curl to her full lips, looking as soft as ever. The desire to capture them burns beneath her skin, to find out how they'd feel against hers, dig her teeth into her bottom lip, lave her tongue over the roof of her mouth —
Medkit clears her throat, pointing to Boombox's ice cream, "Your cone is dripping."
Eyes of her visor widening, Boombox follows her gaze to see that sure enough, it is. The melted, sticky liquid had been dripping onto her hand for quite some time, down her arm, some of the droplets even landing on the table.
"... Oh." Is all she can get out at first, a nervous, very forced chuckle escaping her, "Right, uhm. Sling? Can we get some napkins over here?"
SFOTH, get it together!