Chapter Text
“This is your fault, Xana.”
“Mine? How is this my fault, Ghillie Dhu?”
“It’s your fault because you were the one that got us into this stupid job!”
“It is not a ‘job’, it is a calling,” Xana sniffed imperiously. She tossed her long blonde hair back , ignoring the spluttering from her partner as it hit him in the face.
“Calling, job, whatever – it’s your fault!”
“As amusing as this is,” their captor drawled, eyebrows high on his forehead, “you are failing to understand the situation you are in right now.”
“Do not interrupt our conversation. Have you no manners?”
“What she said. Now, F—Xana, what are you intending to do about this mess?”
“What I always do, my friend.” She turned cold eyes on their captor, her loose hair starting to whip about as if caught by a non-existent wind. “Improvise.”
-
Neville staggered through the door to the apartment he shared with Fleur, kicking it shut behind him and heading straight for the couch. He cautiously lowered the sleeping blonde from his back, twisting out of her grip when she frowned and shifted.
Three years. Three years since the accident that had sent them to this strange world. Three years of growing used to the lack of magic – at least, the lack of magic that they had grown up with – and trying to find a place in a world where they legally did not exist.
And to top off the weirdness? Superheroes were a thing.
In addition to the superheroes-being-real thing, somehow Neville had been roped into being Fleur’s partner as she gallivanted around the city in a mask and costume. He was fully willing to place any and all blame for the trouble they’d been getting into on her.
It had been Fleur who had started doing her masked-vigilante/furious-femme-fatale routine, and he had been (not entirely reluctantly, to be honest) dragged along with her as her plant-controlling partner-in-justice.
He really hoped that no one ever actually found out who they were, because that would just cause all kinds of trouble.