un_gloved | (no subject)

(no subject)

Rogue had been good at pool before she got to the island. Now she was a master. She cracked the racked balls with one deft shot and sunk two. She gave a low, pleased whistle and moved around the table to set up her next one. The jukebox was playing an Emmylou Harris song. She'd finally gotten it to play real country.

"J'ai fait tout, j'ai fait tout. Ce que j'ai pu. J'ai fait tout, j'ai fait tout ce que j'ai pu.'

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"Yeah," said Ned, absently brushing the tips of his fingers over her wrist. "Yeah, you told me."

Goose bumps ran up her arm, stemming from the touch. She hesitated, looking over at him, glancing over his face which was closer than she had, genuinely, realized, then looked back down again.

"That was one of 'em. 'n the one I miss the most."

Ned's hand stopped, his fingers on the bone of her wrist.

"Wait," he said, eyes suddenly wide. "You could fly?"

She nodded, expression wistful, eyes on the cover of the book.

"Yup. I could just step off the ground 'n go."

Ned thought about this for a moment, thought about questioning her, but then he remembered the look in Keel's eyes, and the question that he'd asked.

From how far back?

His hand slid down, his fingers threading quickly with hers to squeeze her hand.

"You must miss it."

"More'n just about anything," she admitted. "It could be hard, but havin' powers was... well, not just a responsibility." She looked up at him and smiled.

"It could be wonderful."

"M'sorry," said Ned, thinking about the things that he missed and now they weren't nearly as special as flying.

"Don't be silly," she said, ducking her head slightly. "Nothin' t'be sorry for. Take the changes as they come. I can't fly anymore, but I can-" She hesitated, looking at their hands where they sat, still clasped.

He looked at their hands, clasped together on the couch cushion and raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Well, I c'n- I told you that no one could touch me, b'fore. That was one of my powers. If I touched anyone, skin t'skin, I'd-" It was hard to explain.

"They could get hurt. Real bad."

"Not anymore, though, hey?" said Ned, quietly, still looking at their hands. There was just...there was something about touching her that made it hard not to.

"Right," she said, with a positive little nod.

"Not anymore."

He lent in and brushed a kiss over the top of her head.

"Good."

She shivered, just a little, leaning into the brush of his lips, then ducked her head away again, absently twisting a strand of her hair around one finger for a total lack of knowing what else do to. She smiled, though, as well.

Ned got the message and pulled back to, giving her her space, starting to relax his hand and draw it away from hers.

He let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding and was surprised by how shaky it was.

She caught the hand back, lacing their fingers together, and drew her legs up onto the couch and tucked them under her.

"How's your book?"

"It's pretty good," he said, swiping his thumb across her knuckles. "'bout some Revolution some place I've never heard of, and it went a whole lot better than ours, but, yeah, it's pretty interestin'. Not as interestin' as watchin' you, of course."

He grinned.

"More interestin' when I'm actually playin' someone," she said with a fleeting glance at the pool table, smiling, pleased by the compliment. She casually leaned her temple against his shoulder.

"If their revolution went better'n yours, yours must've not done that well," she said. "What happened?"

"We lost," said Ned, softly, his cheek resting against the top of her head. "We were set up. All of us. At Treaclemine Road. But, for a little bit, it was beautiful."

"Set up?" she repeated, frowning a little, watching his thumb against her skin.

"We weren't ever gonna win," said Ned, quietly, and shrugged. "S'okay...A...friend told me that the reason they're called revolutions is they're always coming around again."

"It's a good point," she said, ten tipped her face up, to watch his expression.

"But I'm still sorry 'bout that."

For a moment, Ned's expression was closed and far-away, and then he looked down at her and smiled.

"Thanks," he murmured and bent his head to touch the end of his nose to hers.

"I wish it had worked," she near-whispered, lashes fluttering a little. Her heart had definitely sped up. She meant it. Rogue hadn't ever been all that politically minded, but it just made him look so sad.

"So do I," he said, taking a deep breath and brushing his lips against hers before pulling back, swallowing hard.