Chapter Text
“Hey, Acchan?”
“What’s up, Saru-chan?”
I stick my tongue out at my friend for using that old nickname, only getting a cheeky grin as a response.
“After school today, did you wanna watch the new Marvel movie with me?” I lean forward, my enthusiasm building up. “It’s the third Spider-Man film! Well, in this series, anyways – I’m not counting the Raimi and Sony and Spiderverse stuff, of course.”
“Oooh. Will it have the Toei Spider-Man in it?” Acchan asks.
“Ugh, I wish. No, I’ve been keeping up with those copyright tracking threads, and there hasn’t been anything happening with Toei these days,” I grumble.
“Mmm. Well, it’ll be a hard sell. After all, Leopardon is the best Spider-gadget ever!” Acchan says, and I laugh with her. Even if she’s not into Marvel like I am, she’s still very much into superhero stuff – including sentai lore.
“But they even brought back the old actor for Doc-Ock! And…! Anyways, I mean, if you don’t want to, that’s fine.” I shrug, trying to play it cool.
“I just wish you’d be more honest with why you’re asking me to watch movies with you.” Acchan says, and the sudden seriousness shocks me a little.
“Eh? What do ya mean?”
“I mean, you usually watch this sort of stuff by yourself. But whenever stuff is in theaters…” Acchan trails off, before tilting her head cutely. “I’ll go with you, but you gotta be honest with yourself.”
“I…” My mouth goes dry. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t find the way to say them.
“I’ll let you figure it out, but if you keep beating around the bush, then it’ll only hurt yourself and the people around you in the long run.” Acchan shrugs, before bumping shoulders with me. “Just do things at your own pace and remember to stay true to yourself. That’s what makes you, you. If you do that, everything’ll work out.”
“...Thank you.” Tears well in my eyes, as I cup a gauntleted hand on my best friend’s cheek. I’m so much taller than her. I’m not in the same body I used to be.
“Go get ‘em, Saru-chan!” Acchan grins up at me, her brown eyes peering into my blue eyes, before the classroom fades into stardust.
Staring down at Katarina’s unconscious form, Maria sighs.
May 20. It’s been sixteen days since the Battle – sixteen days since Katarina decided to strap two universal-scale power sources to her fist and drive back an alien threat, consequences be damned.
Scarcely more than two weeks later, and Latveria’s gone from a stalwart fortress to a besieged tower. The good news is the tower is no longer crumbling under its own weight: that is to say, through the efforts of the Cabinet and many other players, the executive branch finally pulled itself together such that it’s not relying on the overworked shoulders of a twenty-something pixie dream girl.
As loath as Maria is to admit it, much of the effort was a success thanks to Bardas, of all people. She supposes there’s something to be said about even villains wanting their empires to be stable, but now that the draconic prime minister has proven her worth, Maria can’t even think Bardas as a villain anymore. Just… a very opportunistic, and very obsessed coworker.
Maybe in some other universe, Lucia von Bardas truly would be the downfall of Latveria, the power-hungry successor to a throne far greater than herself. And maybe in some other universe, Maria would be buried in some godforsaken ditch with the rest of the Zefiro. Instead, Maria just has to deal with a serpentine politician and a sleeping beauty.
Sleeping beauty…
Maria’s lips flatten, and she blushes at the thought of it.
…No. It’s a stupid idea. It’s juvenile, is what it is.
But – well – her mother always did say that fairy tales were made with Zefiro blood. That the tales of Rapunzel or Cinderella had, in reality, been accounts borne of witchcraft and wonder and storytellers coping with a people too strange for reality. Maybe her mother wasn’t telling the entire truth, and may have been helping Maria cope with the unfortunate reality of a mage’s existence in Fortunov’s Latveria.
But maybe…! No. No! God’s sake, Maria, you’re a grown woman. You’re not going to stoop so low as to – she’s your boss, damn it all, not to mention how completely silly and childish and unbelievably stupid…
Katarina’s lips look so soft, despite having no trace of lip gloss or any sort of product. And she’s so cute when she’s sleeping. Her eyebrows furrow sometimes, the same way that they do when she’s in a board meeting and debating with the likes of Gorzenko and Dr. Cronos simultaneously.
Maria licks her own lips, brushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. She’s just… visiting. And checking in on her Majesty’s health. It’d be best if she just took a closer look at Katarina’s face, to be certain. Not a problem at all. Not even when she’s close enough to feel the brunette’s slow breath…
And then Katarina’s arms spring out and latch onto Maria like a Venus Flytrap.
Yelping and tumbling into the sudden beartrap embrace, Maria blurbles and gasps for any semblance of context – asking if Katarina’s awake, asking why she’s hugging her, asking why she’s pulling her into the bed – before realizing she’s been pulled face first into Katarina’s collarbone, her nose pressed against the woman’s neck.
Maria’s blush goes from a demure maiden’s dusting of pink, all the way to the neon red of a cartoon tomato. Seeing as she’s not going to get any answers, the light mage attempts to pull herself out of Katarina’s arms in an attempt to retain some decorum – but – she can’t – she can’t get out! How strong is this woman, anyways? She doesn’t even have the armor on! And… oh goodness, she’s breathing in Katarina’s scent now…
ZRM’s top field agent, unofficial Latverian head of intelligence operations, and official aide of the crown, Maria Clopoțel… currently hug-trapped in a hospital bed with her Majesty, domnitoare republicii Katarina von Doom. And learning to like it, which is the horrifying part! Maria’s brain is constantly fluctuating between “I need to get out of here, now” and “it wouldn’t be so bad to stay a little longer”, and it needs to stop doing that! She’s a professional! She’s a trusted member of the inner circle! She…
She’s been stressed out lately, and this is just what the doctor ordered to help her. And Katarina smells so nice, and her hugs are simply divine, and honestly, the world could crumble around them and all Maria would care about is staying here, happy, dying with a smile –
No! Snap out of it! Pull out of it, even! Just need to… maybe shimmy herself under the embrace, instead of trying to pull away from it –
“Maria?”
A voice croaks out that immediately pulls Maria’s attention, and Maria looks up from her position on the bed at Katarina. Who is slowly waking up, like a schoolgirl on a sunny weekend. Feeling her sense of duty and propriety surge through her heart, Maria tries once more to pull away – but, even in consciousness, Katarina refuses to surrender her embrace.
“K-Katarina, I…” Maria stammers, uncertain what to do about this. She needs to notify the proper channels. She needs to alert the hospital staff. Do something!
“Did ya give me a true love’s kiss?” The awakening monarch smiles, oh so softly. Even in her tiredness, the crinkles around Katarina’s eyes as she grins were… “Prince charming.”
“Alan’s been calling me 007, recently…” Maria mumbles, before mentally screeching in embarrassment. She’s taken a grapeshot-loaded cannon and shot herself in the foot with it. Why would you say that? Why would you say that, you useless girl?!
“007?” Katarina hums, pulling the sheets over both of them, before snuggling a bit tighter. “Does that make me your Q, then? Or am I a Bond girl…?”
Maria’s brain is in meltdown. Her palms are sweaty. Her knees are weak. Her arms are heavy.
“You can be whatever you’d like to be, Katarina.” Maria’s mouth autofills for her frontal lobe.
“I’d like to be…” Katarina’s eyes flicker downwards, and Maria can see the gears start to turn in her mind. No doubt she’s questioning what time it is, what day it is, the current state of Latveria. Why Maria is occupying the same mattress as her. And the amount of people to contact, on top of all that! SHIELD, Bardas, the Latverian public, Stark, Richards – the bloody Norse deity that Keith invited to crash in a guest room –
But Katarina just adjusts her position and rests her chin on Maria’s head. “...in bed for a little longer.”
It’s taking every inch of self-discipline in Maria’s body, not to scream and blush and make out with this woman furiously.
So much so, that in Maria’s silence, Katarina comes to her own conclusions, regarding her length of stay. “Wait. How long have I been asleep?”
Maria smiles nervously, butterflies made of nervousness and… well, frankly, disappointment , fluttering in her stomach. If she could choose a moment to last forever… “Sixteen days…?”
“SIXTEEN DAYS?!”
Katarina yelps and kicks the sheets so high that they touch the ceiling, and the EKG starts going haywire – and thus immediately alerts hospital staff as to her newfound consciousness. Seeing an opportunity to right herself and prevent another Prinz moment (Maria never truly lived down that time during the civil war), Maria gets up from the bed and starts hastily flattening her clothes and fixing her hair.
Dressed in nothing but a hospital gown, Katarina starts nearly sprinting around the room, ripping the monitoring systems off her body and looking for – her belt. Putting it on, Katarina summons her armor so quickly that Maria would need a frame-by-frame replay to even catch the transition.
But then she pauses. And then she starts doing finger-math, muttering under her breath about ‘if I used both stones’ and ‘expected turnaround time for healing’, before turning to Maria. And then muttering about ‘what Acchan said’.
And then Katarina marches forward and embraces Maria once more, smelling like warm rain and toasted sugar and sharpened steel and love.
“Maria,” Katarina gasps, pulling away with a billion-dollar smile, “you are a lifesaver . I owe you infinity dates, now, and I mean it. But first!”
And that’s when the hospital staff arrive on the scene to help Katarina get back on her feet. Well, they try, before getting bowled over by the leader of their government, her verdant cape flapping in the nonexistent wind.
“I need to fix things! And call the Avengers! And set a term limit! Outta the way everyone, I’ve got work to do!”
Maria faints. Onto the bed, thankfully.
“What do you mean the term limit didn’t pass?!”
“It’s just that,” Keith notes, sliding forward the excerpts of the Consiliu proceedings regarding that particular law that I pushed for and wanted passed and really needed to happen, “upon review of your highly-successful economic and external policies, and in consideration for future generations of Latverians, the people have voted to keep you as president-for-life – decision to be reviewed upon either your death or in severe national emergency.”
“B-But… But…” I stammer, raising a weak index finger as my entire body trembles.
“Congratulations, eternal leader.” My adopted brother sips a cup of coffee.
“...Do I at least get PTO hours?” I try to bargain, past my quivering lower lip.
“You have half a dozen Avengers blowing up your phone, the UN chomping at the bit to undermine your people, and that’s your priority?”
“Yes!” I exclaim, nearly pulling out my hair. “I wanted to go on vacation.”
“Where?”
“Japan.”
“...Why?”
“B-Because it’s 2012, so the Touhou boom is in full effect, and – and the exclusive merch – ”
“United Nations first,” Keith pierces through my blubbering with narrowed, tired eyes, “weird anime stuff later. Okay? Let’s get everything under control before we have fun.”
“...Okay.” I mumble, slapping the sides of my head and pulling myself together. Just need to tie up some loose ends, and then I can stop being queen, and I can chill in an onsen and dub some more My Little Pony and get Masky autographed by my favorite seiyuus and stuff.
And the first thing on the docket is…
("Oh, by the way, I think it'd be important if me, you, and Sue could sort our whole thingy out soon. I'll probably be in the US for a bit after this, if that works?")
A very complicated conversation with my favorite couple in the world.