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"We Deserve Each Other" by masu_trout for aetherling
Recipient: ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
aetherling
Title: We Deserve Each Other
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
masu_trout
Rating: G
Verse: Pokemon: Black & White (Generation V)
Characters/Pairings: Black & White & N (Gen)
Summary: White gets free tickets to see a musical. Black and N decide to come along. (Luckily, sneaking a fugitive into a black tie event is much easier than any of them would have assumed.)
Content Notes: Apartment sharing, musicals, convoluted family trees, and a whole lot of fluff. Not canon to B2W2.
When you saved the world, there were certain assumptions people started making about you.
White couldn't count the number of times she'd been asked, “So what was it like?” or “How did you feel, facing Team Plasma?” or, worst of all, “Oh, what a shame!” when they heard she wasn't going to become the new Champion. (Though for that last one, it wasn't so much the words that made her angry. It was the inevitable mix of disappointment and pity in their eyes, like she was somehow less competent because she didn't want the weight of an entire region resting on her shoulders at the ripe old age of seventeen.)
She tolerated it, of course, smiled and nodded and gave the answers people wanted to hear; it would be rude to do anything else, and they were good people. Just...enthusiastic. Very enthusiastic.
What she always wanted to tell them, though, went something more like this: It was cold a lot and wet a lot. My samurott almost died fighting Ghetsis. I almost did too. Most of the time I was scared out of my mind.
The Pokemon League would've taken her in a heartbeat if she'd asked; Alder had made that clear. But she loved working in the Battle Subway. It meant she could spend her whole day battling, then go back home to a fluffy bed and a hot meal and roof over her head. It meant hot showers and shopping and spending time with her friends¡ªall the normal teenagers things she'd once thought she'd never be able to do again.
And sure, every single last one of her coworkers was crazy. But they were all the non-megalomaniac sort of crazy, which was definitely a step in the right direction for her overall stress levels. (Well, mostly non-megalomaniacs, at least. She had to wonder about Emmet sometimes.) And one of those crazy people was her favorite cousin–and, as of a few months ago, her co-renter–so she probably didn't have much room to complain there.
And, she thought as she slid her apartment key into the door, there was one other particular result of her job that she certainly hadn't been expecting; namely, that one of the most wanted criminals in Unova (on paper, at least) was using her living room floor as a bedroom more nights than not.
White stepped quietly into her apartment, making sure to lock the door behind her as she did. She was out late most nights, cleaning up the station after all the challengers had left, and N was one of those people who woke up and went to bed with the sun. Sure enough, he was already curled into a ball next to the couch, his legs half-tucked under the end table and his head resting on his arms. His hands were sure to be pins and needles by morning.
She'd picked up a futon after the fourth or fifth time N had stopped by, once she'd realized this was likely to be a permanent thing. But, while he'd acted grateful, she'd never once seen him use it. He vastly preferred to sleep on the floor, as if he was a Pokemon himself. It was weird, sure, but also strangely adorable, and she'd quickly gotten used to dodging piles of blankets when getting ready in the morning.
White softly made her way into the kitchen, then pulled enough ingredients for a late-night dinner out of the fridge. She was halfway through fixing her sandwich when the door to her cousin's bedroom creaked open.
“Hey,” Black whispered. His damp hair was plastered to his forehead, and he had a towel draped over his shoulders.
“Hey.” She couldn't help but smile–she had a feeling most people wouldn't believe her if she told them the Battle Subway's prodigy rookie wore munna-print pajamas to bed. “Where were you? I thought you were supposed to take closing shift with me tonight.”
Black grinned lazily. “Yeah, I was. I traded with Kenneth, though.”
“Wait, seriously? Again?” White nearly dropped the knife she was holding.
The late night shift was everyone's least favorite; White was fairly certain most of her coworkers would rather dive into the middle of a sharpedo feeding frenzy than take even one more than they had to. And yet, every week Black somehow managed to find someone else to cover his for him. She probably should have been used to it by now. “Are you ever going to actually take the shift?”
“Hey, not my fault you can't be as ridiculously charming as I am. It's a rare gift, you know.”
White snorted. “If you want to seem cool, Black, try showing off to someone who hasn't known you since you were in diapers.”
“You're only saying that because you're jealous,” Black said, pouting.
That was... pretty true, actually. White sliced the tomato extra viciously to make up for her lack of comeback.
“Oh, hey.” Black grabbed an envelope off the table and handed it to her. “This came in the mail today. I don't know if you saw it already.”
“...Huh.” White quickly wiped the tomato juices off her hands before grabbing the letter. It was incredibly elegant-looking, made of some sort of thick parchment and sealed shut with a dot of wax. The return address was from somewhere in Nimbasa; it looked familiar, but she hadn't lived in the city long enough to be able to place it.
She slit the envelope open. Inside were four pieces of paper–one large and folded, the other three much smaller. She pulled out the largest piece and unfolded it.
“What is it?”
“It looks like tickets to some musical coming out this weekend. 'Wicked'?” Getting free stuff was definitely one of the nicer parts of being famous.
“Huh, seriously?” Black asked. He pulled the tickets out of the envelope and glanced over them. “Ooh, hey, we should go!”
“You want to come? I didn't think you liked musicals.” She'd tried to show him Grease once, and he'd spent the entire movie alternating between critiquing the actors' singing voices and complaining about how unrealistic the idea of spontaneous choreographed dance routines were.
“I don't, but this is the one that Kathy was gushing about all yesterday at work. If we go, I'll be able to brag about how I got to see it before her.”
“...Remind me again why everyone at work likes you so much?”
Black just grinned smugly.
“Fine,” White decided. “You can come with me, on one condition–you can't complain about who I give the third ticket to.”
“Yeah, no problem,” Black responded automatically. “Who are you going to invite?”
There was a long pause, as White very deliberately looked towards the figure sleeping on their living room floor.
“No,” he hissed. “You can't seriously be–no.”
White yanked the tickets out of his grasp, then waved them in his face. “A promise is a promise, cousin dearest!”
If the best part of being famous was getting free stuff, then it naturally followed that the best part of getting free stuff was being able to lord it over Black.
Black had actually taken quite well to the idea of having one of Unova's Most Wanted camp out in their living room; and by that, of course, she meant that he only had panicked for three or four days straight. That said, the two of them were still tense around each other– Black wasn't sure how to deal with N's odd nature and (admittedly alarming) past, and N, empathetic as he was, couldn't help but sense that suspicion. He responded to it by avoiding Black as much as he could, which was useful for preventing immediate confrontation but didn't actually help the overall situation any.
Thus, White had hatched her genius plot. If she got Black and N into situations where they had to spend time together, it would not only help them understand each other, but would improve N's social skills in general. The musical was supposed to be the first big step.
However, she was starting to realize it might have been a little too big.
“Hold still a moment,” White said, tucking N's hair into his hat. It, like everything else he was wearing at the moment, had been borrowed from Black's wardrobe. The sleeves and pant legs were too short for his tall frame, but it was certainly better than nothing.
N managed to hold his pose for a second, but he was back to fidgeting before she could tuck the rest in. “It kind of itches,” he complained.
“Yeah, I know. Sorry.” She wished there was another way, but she'd had to call in ten different favors from highly connected friends just to keep N from getting arrested the moment he stepped into Nimbasa City. She wasn't about to let some overly-nosy reporter or attendee ruin that.
Over by the door, Black was pacing in circles around their rug. A few more laps, White thought, and he was liable to burn a hole right through it.
“Alright!” she said, and tucked the last strand of N's hair up. “I think we're ready. Should we head off?”
They went by cab–normally the Nimbasa Theater was well within walking distance, but White's high heels were having none of that. The ride was useful in that it gave pedestrians less of a chance to get a good look at them, but it also left the three of them with very little time to mentally prepare themselves. In only a few short minutes, they were stepping out of the cab and through the doors of the Nimbasa Theater.
Okay, White thought. I can do this. I've done this dozens of times before. Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile on her face and stepped inside.
The theater was filled with well-dressed men and women of all ages. White recognized some of them–there were the owners of Nimbasa's sports stadiums, there was a woman she'd once seen on TV, there was a businessman from Castelia whom she distinctly remembered disliking. It was both overwhelming and reassuring; at least she wouldn't be the center of attention in a crowd like this.
That sudden burst of confidence lasted right up until the first guest approached her.
She was a vaguely familiar middle-aged woman, which meant White had probably met her at some previous event, and from the way she rushed up to her she was hoping to make an impression. (Inwardly, White groaned. People like this were the worst. She'd take being looked down upon over being looked up to any day of the week.)
“Hello!” the woman said, just this side of too cheery. “It's so nice to see you again, White, darling. And who are these young folks you've brought with you?”
White froze. For all the planning and fretting and pacing she and Black had done, neither of them had thought to come up with a cover story for N's presence. “This is my cousin, Black,” she said, desperately stalling, “And this is...”
“Our half-brother,” Black added quickly. “His name is N...athaniel.”
“Yes!” White said. “Our half brother. Nathaniel and Black are both big musical fans!”
“Oh, how lovely!” The woman beamed even brighter and shook each of their hands in turn. (White noted with pride that N had gotten much better with casual contact.) “And if you don't mind me asking,” she continued, “Which of these fine youngsters is your sibling, Nathaniel?”
“Um.” N paused, obviously not expecting the question. “...Both?”
“Both?” The look on her face might have been hilarious if White hadn't been so busy panicking.
Both, N? Really?
“It's a rather complicated family situation,” Black said.
“Yes,” White rather desperately agreed. “A very complicated situation. We prefer not to talk about it.”
“Oh! Of course,” The woman said. She blushed, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. “I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have pried.”
After that, the woman couldn't get away from them fast enough. White wasn't sure if it was embarrassment at her own nosiness, or if their hypothetical vaguely incestuous family tree just really freaked her out. Either way, she was glad for the reprieve.
“Half brother?” White murmured.
“Welcome to the family, I guess,” Black muttered back.
And, while she was sure Black was more trying to be funny than anything else, neither of them could miss the pleased flush that crept up N's cheeks at the words.
The three of them stuck closely together through the reception. White was left with the duty of heading off any other guests and explaining her 'family' to them. While she would have preferred something a little less unorthodox as an explanation, she had to admit it was really good at warding off unwanted questions.
Sooner than she'd expected, impeccably dressed employees appeared in the room to clear away the dishes and lead their group into the theater itself. The three of them, White noticed as they walked in, had some of the best seats in the house–they must have really wanted her to come.
Neither Black nor N had ever been inside the theater itself before (though for very different reasons), and it was incredibly entertaining watching their reactions as they took their seats. N was looking up, left, down, right, up again, at the stage and the chairs and the ceiling as if he was trying to memorize the entire place–for all White knew, that could be exactly his plan. Black, on the other hand, had suddenly taken to fidgeting with his tie, like it had only just occurred to him that this was a rather important event.
White bit her lip so that she wouldn't start chewing on her nails. No time to be nervous now. She sat in silence, her boys on either side of her, until the lights finally went down.
The musical... well, the musical was actually really good. She hadn't expected much when she'd first heard the plot– talking Pokemon? Witches? Fairies? Really?–but there was something remarkably endearing about it. From the moment the characters first appeared on stage, White was hooked.
As the show went on, though, White found herself glancing away from the stage more and more. Not because she was bored, but because there was a sight more entrancing than even the musical sitting not two feet to her left.
If White was entranced, N looked enraptured. The moment the first musical cue had sounded, his darting gaze fixed firmly on the stage. Every new song had him tapping his long fingers to its beat, every special effect made his eyes light up with wonder, and every joke left a soft, adorable smile spread across his face. He almost cried when Elphaba left her home and friends behind, and she was pretty sure he did (though he was good at hiding it) when it looked as though she was dead.
White thought of the room she'd seen in N's castle, filled with every kind of toy imaginable, and wondered how often he'd been allowed to leave it. She almost wished Ghetsis was here; she'd never gotten a good chance to punch him during their battle.
He wasn't here, though, and if White got her way he'd never make it within a thousand feet of his son again. So instead, she took a deep, calming breath, focused her eyes back on the screen, and promised (to herself and to the child N never got to be) that they would all start doing things together a lot more often.
In a display of truly impressive silent communication, the three of them made a break for it as soon as the play was over. White would rather wrestle a machamp than face down that crowd again, and, from the looks on their faces once they made it out into the crisp night air, Black and N completely agreed with her.
“You guys want to walk home?”
“Yeah, sure,” Black said. N just nodded happily, head bobbing to the beat of a remembered song.
White slipped her high heels off and picked them up. It was dark enough that they were in little danger of being spotted, and Nimbasa City at night was too beautiful to watch from the back of a cab.
“So? How'd you like it?”
“It was really good,” N said breathlessly. He tapped his fingers against his leg mindlessly.
“Just wait.” Blacked glanced between the two of them. “We're both going to regret this when N starts serenading us every morning.”
“I won't!” N protested.
White wanted to believe him. But when he broke into soft humming only a moment later, she had to admit that Black was probably right. She'd created a musically-inclined monster.
But there was no way she would regret any of this. For the first time ever, her cousin and her best friend were walking side by side without even a hint of animosity between them. N was positively beaming, his stride more confident than she'd ever seen it. Black's posture was terrible, like always, but his shoulders lacked the tension that she'd long since come to expect. He was grinning lazily, looking both exhausted and more relaxed than she could ever remember seeing him.
All in all, White decided happily, her bare feet slapping against the still-warm concrete, this had been a good night.
With any luck, they'd have a lot more like it.
aetherling Title: We Deserve Each Other
Author:
masu_troutRating: G
Verse: Pokemon: Black & White (Generation V)
Characters/Pairings: Black & White & N (Gen)
Summary: White gets free tickets to see a musical. Black and N decide to come along. (Luckily, sneaking a fugitive into a black tie event is much easier than any of them would have assumed.)
Content Notes: Apartment sharing, musicals, convoluted family trees, and a whole lot of fluff. Not canon to B2W2.
When you saved the world, there were certain assumptions people started making about you.
White couldn't count the number of times she'd been asked, “So what was it like?” or “How did you feel, facing Team Plasma?” or, worst of all, “Oh, what a shame!” when they heard she wasn't going to become the new Champion. (Though for that last one, it wasn't so much the words that made her angry. It was the inevitable mix of disappointment and pity in their eyes, like she was somehow less competent because she didn't want the weight of an entire region resting on her shoulders at the ripe old age of seventeen.)
She tolerated it, of course, smiled and nodded and gave the answers people wanted to hear; it would be rude to do anything else, and they were good people. Just...enthusiastic. Very enthusiastic.
What she always wanted to tell them, though, went something more like this: It was cold a lot and wet a lot. My samurott almost died fighting Ghetsis. I almost did too. Most of the time I was scared out of my mind.
The Pokemon League would've taken her in a heartbeat if she'd asked; Alder had made that clear. But she loved working in the Battle Subway. It meant she could spend her whole day battling, then go back home to a fluffy bed and a hot meal and roof over her head. It meant hot showers and shopping and spending time with her friends¡ªall the normal teenagers things she'd once thought she'd never be able to do again.
And sure, every single last one of her coworkers was crazy. But they were all the non-megalomaniac sort of crazy, which was definitely a step in the right direction for her overall stress levels. (Well, mostly non-megalomaniacs, at least. She had to wonder about Emmet sometimes.) And one of those crazy people was her favorite cousin–and, as of a few months ago, her co-renter–so she probably didn't have much room to complain there.
And, she thought as she slid her apartment key into the door, there was one other particular result of her job that she certainly hadn't been expecting; namely, that one of the most wanted criminals in Unova (on paper, at least) was using her living room floor as a bedroom more nights than not.
White stepped quietly into her apartment, making sure to lock the door behind her as she did. She was out late most nights, cleaning up the station after all the challengers had left, and N was one of those people who woke up and went to bed with the sun. Sure enough, he was already curled into a ball next to the couch, his legs half-tucked under the end table and his head resting on his arms. His hands were sure to be pins and needles by morning.
She'd picked up a futon after the fourth or fifth time N had stopped by, once she'd realized this was likely to be a permanent thing. But, while he'd acted grateful, she'd never once seen him use it. He vastly preferred to sleep on the floor, as if he was a Pokemon himself. It was weird, sure, but also strangely adorable, and she'd quickly gotten used to dodging piles of blankets when getting ready in the morning.
White softly made her way into the kitchen, then pulled enough ingredients for a late-night dinner out of the fridge. She was halfway through fixing her sandwich when the door to her cousin's bedroom creaked open.
“Hey,” Black whispered. His damp hair was plastered to his forehead, and he had a towel draped over his shoulders.
“Hey.” She couldn't help but smile–she had a feeling most people wouldn't believe her if she told them the Battle Subway's prodigy rookie wore munna-print pajamas to bed. “Where were you? I thought you were supposed to take closing shift with me tonight.”
Black grinned lazily. “Yeah, I was. I traded with Kenneth, though.”
“Wait, seriously? Again?” White nearly dropped the knife she was holding.
The late night shift was everyone's least favorite; White was fairly certain most of her coworkers would rather dive into the middle of a sharpedo feeding frenzy than take even one more than they had to. And yet, every week Black somehow managed to find someone else to cover his for him. She probably should have been used to it by now. “Are you ever going to actually take the shift?”
“Hey, not my fault you can't be as ridiculously charming as I am. It's a rare gift, you know.”
White snorted. “If you want to seem cool, Black, try showing off to someone who hasn't known you since you were in diapers.”
“You're only saying that because you're jealous,” Black said, pouting.
That was... pretty true, actually. White sliced the tomato extra viciously to make up for her lack of comeback.
“Oh, hey.” Black grabbed an envelope off the table and handed it to her. “This came in the mail today. I don't know if you saw it already.”
“...Huh.” White quickly wiped the tomato juices off her hands before grabbing the letter. It was incredibly elegant-looking, made of some sort of thick parchment and sealed shut with a dot of wax. The return address was from somewhere in Nimbasa; it looked familiar, but she hadn't lived in the city long enough to be able to place it.
She slit the envelope open. Inside were four pieces of paper–one large and folded, the other three much smaller. She pulled out the largest piece and unfolded it.
“What is it?”
“It looks like tickets to some musical coming out this weekend. 'Wicked'?” Getting free stuff was definitely one of the nicer parts of being famous.
“Huh, seriously?” Black asked. He pulled the tickets out of the envelope and glanced over them. “Ooh, hey, we should go!”
“You want to come? I didn't think you liked musicals.” She'd tried to show him Grease once, and he'd spent the entire movie alternating between critiquing the actors' singing voices and complaining about how unrealistic the idea of spontaneous choreographed dance routines were.
“I don't, but this is the one that Kathy was gushing about all yesterday at work. If we go, I'll be able to brag about how I got to see it before her.”
“...Remind me again why everyone at work likes you so much?”
Black just grinned smugly.
“Fine,” White decided. “You can come with me, on one condition–you can't complain about who I give the third ticket to.”
“Yeah, no problem,” Black responded automatically. “Who are you going to invite?”
There was a long pause, as White very deliberately looked towards the figure sleeping on their living room floor.
“No,” he hissed. “You can't seriously be–no.”
White yanked the tickets out of his grasp, then waved them in his face. “A promise is a promise, cousin dearest!”
If the best part of being famous was getting free stuff, then it naturally followed that the best part of getting free stuff was being able to lord it over Black.
Black had actually taken quite well to the idea of having one of Unova's Most Wanted camp out in their living room; and by that, of course, she meant that he only had panicked for three or four days straight. That said, the two of them were still tense around each other– Black wasn't sure how to deal with N's odd nature and (admittedly alarming) past, and N, empathetic as he was, couldn't help but sense that suspicion. He responded to it by avoiding Black as much as he could, which was useful for preventing immediate confrontation but didn't actually help the overall situation any.
Thus, White had hatched her genius plot. If she got Black and N into situations where they had to spend time together, it would not only help them understand each other, but would improve N's social skills in general. The musical was supposed to be the first big step.
However, she was starting to realize it might have been a little too big.
“Hold still a moment,” White said, tucking N's hair into his hat. It, like everything else he was wearing at the moment, had been borrowed from Black's wardrobe. The sleeves and pant legs were too short for his tall frame, but it was certainly better than nothing.
N managed to hold his pose for a second, but he was back to fidgeting before she could tuck the rest in. “It kind of itches,” he complained.
“Yeah, I know. Sorry.” She wished there was another way, but she'd had to call in ten different favors from highly connected friends just to keep N from getting arrested the moment he stepped into Nimbasa City. She wasn't about to let some overly-nosy reporter or attendee ruin that.
Over by the door, Black was pacing in circles around their rug. A few more laps, White thought, and he was liable to burn a hole right through it.
“Alright!” she said, and tucked the last strand of N's hair up. “I think we're ready. Should we head off?”
They went by cab–normally the Nimbasa Theater was well within walking distance, but White's high heels were having none of that. The ride was useful in that it gave pedestrians less of a chance to get a good look at them, but it also left the three of them with very little time to mentally prepare themselves. In only a few short minutes, they were stepping out of the cab and through the doors of the Nimbasa Theater.
Okay, White thought. I can do this. I've done this dozens of times before. Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile on her face and stepped inside.
The theater was filled with well-dressed men and women of all ages. White recognized some of them–there were the owners of Nimbasa's sports stadiums, there was a woman she'd once seen on TV, there was a businessman from Castelia whom she distinctly remembered disliking. It was both overwhelming and reassuring; at least she wouldn't be the center of attention in a crowd like this.
That sudden burst of confidence lasted right up until the first guest approached her.
She was a vaguely familiar middle-aged woman, which meant White had probably met her at some previous event, and from the way she rushed up to her she was hoping to make an impression. (Inwardly, White groaned. People like this were the worst. She'd take being looked down upon over being looked up to any day of the week.)
“Hello!” the woman said, just this side of too cheery. “It's so nice to see you again, White, darling. And who are these young folks you've brought with you?”
White froze. For all the planning and fretting and pacing she and Black had done, neither of them had thought to come up with a cover story for N's presence. “This is my cousin, Black,” she said, desperately stalling, “And this is...”
“Our half-brother,” Black added quickly. “His name is N...athaniel.”
“Yes!” White said. “Our half brother. Nathaniel and Black are both big musical fans!”
“Oh, how lovely!” The woman beamed even brighter and shook each of their hands in turn. (White noted with pride that N had gotten much better with casual contact.) “And if you don't mind me asking,” she continued, “Which of these fine youngsters is your sibling, Nathaniel?”
“Um.” N paused, obviously not expecting the question. “...Both?”
“Both?” The look on her face might have been hilarious if White hadn't been so busy panicking.
Both, N? Really?
“It's a rather complicated family situation,” Black said.
“Yes,” White rather desperately agreed. “A very complicated situation. We prefer not to talk about it.”
“Oh! Of course,” The woman said. She blushed, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. “I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have pried.”
After that, the woman couldn't get away from them fast enough. White wasn't sure if it was embarrassment at her own nosiness, or if their hypothetical vaguely incestuous family tree just really freaked her out. Either way, she was glad for the reprieve.
“Half brother?” White murmured.
“Welcome to the family, I guess,” Black muttered back.
And, while she was sure Black was more trying to be funny than anything else, neither of them could miss the pleased flush that crept up N's cheeks at the words.
The three of them stuck closely together through the reception. White was left with the duty of heading off any other guests and explaining her 'family' to them. While she would have preferred something a little less unorthodox as an explanation, she had to admit it was really good at warding off unwanted questions.
Sooner than she'd expected, impeccably dressed employees appeared in the room to clear away the dishes and lead their group into the theater itself. The three of them, White noticed as they walked in, had some of the best seats in the house–they must have really wanted her to come.
Neither Black nor N had ever been inside the theater itself before (though for very different reasons), and it was incredibly entertaining watching their reactions as they took their seats. N was looking up, left, down, right, up again, at the stage and the chairs and the ceiling as if he was trying to memorize the entire place–for all White knew, that could be exactly his plan. Black, on the other hand, had suddenly taken to fidgeting with his tie, like it had only just occurred to him that this was a rather important event.
White bit her lip so that she wouldn't start chewing on her nails. No time to be nervous now. She sat in silence, her boys on either side of her, until the lights finally went down.
The musical... well, the musical was actually really good. She hadn't expected much when she'd first heard the plot– talking Pokemon? Witches? Fairies? Really?–but there was something remarkably endearing about it. From the moment the characters first appeared on stage, White was hooked.
As the show went on, though, White found herself glancing away from the stage more and more. Not because she was bored, but because there was a sight more entrancing than even the musical sitting not two feet to her left.
If White was entranced, N looked enraptured. The moment the first musical cue had sounded, his darting gaze fixed firmly on the stage. Every new song had him tapping his long fingers to its beat, every special effect made his eyes light up with wonder, and every joke left a soft, adorable smile spread across his face. He almost cried when Elphaba left her home and friends behind, and she was pretty sure he did (though he was good at hiding it) when it looked as though she was dead.
White thought of the room she'd seen in N's castle, filled with every kind of toy imaginable, and wondered how often he'd been allowed to leave it. She almost wished Ghetsis was here; she'd never gotten a good chance to punch him during their battle.
He wasn't here, though, and if White got her way he'd never make it within a thousand feet of his son again. So instead, she took a deep, calming breath, focused her eyes back on the screen, and promised (to herself and to the child N never got to be) that they would all start doing things together a lot more often.
In a display of truly impressive silent communication, the three of them made a break for it as soon as the play was over. White would rather wrestle a machamp than face down that crowd again, and, from the looks on their faces once they made it out into the crisp night air, Black and N completely agreed with her.
“You guys want to walk home?”
“Yeah, sure,” Black said. N just nodded happily, head bobbing to the beat of a remembered song.
White slipped her high heels off and picked them up. It was dark enough that they were in little danger of being spotted, and Nimbasa City at night was too beautiful to watch from the back of a cab.
“So? How'd you like it?”
“It was really good,” N said breathlessly. He tapped his fingers against his leg mindlessly.
“Just wait.” Blacked glanced between the two of them. “We're both going to regret this when N starts serenading us every morning.”
“I won't!” N protested.
White wanted to believe him. But when he broke into soft humming only a moment later, she had to admit that Black was probably right. She'd created a musically-inclined monster.
But there was no way she would regret any of this. For the first time ever, her cousin and her best friend were walking side by side without even a hint of animosity between them. N was positively beaming, his stride more confident than she'd ever seen it. Black's posture was terrible, like always, but his shoulders lacked the tension that she'd long since come to expect. He was grinning lazily, looking both exhausted and more relaxed than she could ever remember seeing him.
All in all, White decided happily, her bare feet slapping against the still-warm concrete, this had been a good night.
With any luck, they'd have a lot more like it.
HELLO OVERDUE REPLY