Chapter Text
The Los Angeles city comes alive during the night, and Megan loves to watch it all from up on the rooftop of the tallest skyscraper. Up there, the streetlights create tunnels of brightness throughout the sprawling city, and the cars look like little dancing dots that paint lines across it. If she looks out to the horizon one way, she can make out the blackness of the water, and if she looks out the other, she can see the rolling hills and valleys rippling further inland.
Megan lounges just on the edge of the rooftop, one leg curled up on the side and the other dangling over. She lets that leg swing in the gentle breeze as her gaze tracks carefully over the night-time traffic down far below.
It would be cold up here, if not for the full body suit she wears. Her chest, calves, and forearms are emblazoned in a bright red, contrasting with the deep blue on the rest of her body. It’s made of a spandex material, but it keeps her well-encapsulated against the chill of the breeze from up above the rest of the city. Absentmindedly, she scratches at the black spider crest in the middle of her chest.
It's quiet, all the way up here. The honking of car horns and the yelling of emphatic pedestrians would be completely non-existent if not for Megan’s sensitive hearing. As it is, Megan can only just pick up those sounds as distant background noise. It calms her.
Megan lets out a deep-seated sigh. No-one else can get up on this rooftop, except for her. There’s no rooftop stairwell. For Megan, this place is an isolated oasis in the midst of the throes of LA’s city life. Here, Megan has a moment to be herself without anyone else around.
Her mask, fully red with white eye-visors, lays disregarded by her side. Face bare, she lets herself feel the gentle breeze dance through the ends of her hair and the small curls of her overgrown pink bangs against her forehead.
The tinny sound of LA police reports plays aloud from Megan’s phone as she tosses it up into the air between her hands, over and over again. She throws it up with her right hand, watches it arc up over her head, and catches it with her left hand. If she missed it, it would soar sixty floors down and crack harshly against the pavement. Megan would never let that happen, though.
She tosses the phone again, upwards from her left hand and catching it with her right, barely listening to the police reports. Nothing seems to be happening that would need her attention. Her involvement.
The phone arcs upwards through the air again and comes down to bounce off of Megan’s forearm fruitlessly. For a moment, she watches it spin in the air and start falling down, down, down, against the side of the skyscraper.
Megan props a hand against the edge of the rooftop and leans out into the breeze. Her other arm straightens in the direction of her phone, a thin string of web shooting out from her wrist. The web rushes out, cutting through the air and sticking to the surface of the phone. Immediately, it encases the glass in a spindly, sticky netting. Megan gives a practiced tug of her wrist, and the string of web comes flying back to her, where she catches the phone in hand once again. “Gotcha,” she mumbles. Then, as she picks the stubborn webbing off from the face of her phone, she adds, “Ew.”
Through the webs, Megan hears the police reports pick up in urgency, a policeman dropping a bunch of codes in quick succession. Megan deciphers them immediately.
A masked robbery of the Cartier store on the corner of Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. The criminal is quick enough that they’ve evaded police action, but not quick enough that they haven’t been caught on CCTV. Apparently, they’ve taken to the rooftops.
Sounds like something Megan can help with.
Megan picks herself up from lounging against the rooftop, scoops up her mask, and quickly shakes out her legs. She looks out towards Beverly Hills. It’s a little far from here. if she were anyone else, it would take an hour at a minimum in this traffic, and the criminal would be long gone by then.
For Megan, she doubts it’ll take longer than a few minutes.
She poises her feet directly on the edge of the rooftop so that her toes peek out over the edge. She pulls her mask up over her face and stuffs her hair up underneath it. Then, leaning forward slightly, her body starts to careen down beside the glass panes of the building.
Megan dives sixty floors down towards Los Angeles City, headfirst. Briefly, she tucks her head down into her chest to watch her reflection against the skyscraper. She’s moving so fast, the frames of each of the glass panels flick by like stripes, the wind rushing against her covered ears. She giggles at her upside-down form in the reflection, and gives herself a dorky little wave.
This is her favourite part of the job.
Megan tilts her head forward again to watch the ground rise up towards her. Soon enough, she’s twenty floors away from the hard concrete, then ten, then five.
With practiced movement, a web shoots out from her wrist and connects to the next building over. It jerks Megan’s body into a swing, so close to the floor that the soles of her foot sweep against the asphalt, right in front of a swerving car.
“Watch it, Spider-Man!” A man yells from the car, throwing his hand out the window towards Megan’s swinging figure.
“Sorry!” Megan yells back, but she fears it gets swallowed up by the wind as she continues to swing from building to building, enroute to Beverly Hills.
There’s such a different perspective of the city when you can easily zip from one region to the next. Swinging like this, time slows down. The rhythm of her swings, the flip at the end of each arc, and the tug of the webs at her wrists are home to Megan.
Los Angeles is her city. Ever since she got bitten by that radioactive spider on a trip halfway through Dream Academy, it’s been her responsibility to look after her city—to protect it against anyone who might endanger its citizens. And sometimes, that means chasing these sticky criminals who seem to have nothing else better to do, and give the police a break.
It doesn’t take long before Megan’s swinging close by Beverly Hills. Her web catches against a building to throw her up onto a neighbouring rooftop. Megan tucks herself into a roll to break her fall, then crouches down by the edge of the roof to look out to the Cartier store on the corner.
Megan hums thoughtfully. All the windows are intact and there doesn’t seem to be any evidence of forceful break-in. Nonetheless, lights and alarms sound from inside the store to indicate the tripping of a security system.
A policeman walks out through the front door to meet a fellow policewoman, and Megan leans in to listen from the rooftop.
“What did they steal?” The policewoman asks, hands on her hips.
“A necklace. And a very expensive one at that, it seems. It was in a special case in the back of the store, and they must’ve tripped an alarm when they pulled it out,” The policeman answers, then adds thoughtfully, “No broken glass, though.”
“Seems our robber has more brains than usual,” The policewoman comments, then looks up and down the street. “Where were they last seen?”
“A bystander said they saw someone climbing up onto the rooftops and running off that way,” He responds, pointing south-eastwards. “We just dispatched a squad car.”
Up on the rooftop, Megan looks out to the way the policeman was pointing. There, just barely in the distance, she makes out a small figure on the horizon, vaulting over rooftops.
Megan smiles. She straightens up, rolls out her shoulders, and takes off on a run across the roof. When the edge drops down, she jumps across the abyss to the next building. She vaults clear over air conditioning units and piping, flipping with practiced ease onwards across the dense landscape of city rooftops.
Megan keeps her eyes on the figure, slowly becoming larger and larger as she closes in on them. She has to hand it to this criminal: they’re much more athletic than the usual run-of-the-mill thief. Megan can see the way they jump and flip across the rooftops with an ease that she’s only seen in herself.
But still, this thief is not as good as Megan.
Feet touch down on a rooftop, dropping into a roll and rushing across the concrete. Hardly a second later, Megan follows. Megan’s just finished rolling out of her jump, pops up, and realises that the figure has strangely stopped. The thief stands right at the other edge of the rooftop, looking out with their back to Megan. Megan stops as well.
The figure turns over their shoulder to look right at Spider-Man, and smirks.
“Hi there,” they call, in a smooth and feminine voice. A woman. She tilts her head and leans into her hip with an air of calmness. “Come here often?”
“Uh—what?” Megan stutters back. She even looks over her shoulder to check that this woman is actually talking to her.
The woman lets out a giggle, swinging one foot forward in Megan’s direction. “Oh come on, you followed me all the way here. Might as well…Get to know each other.”
“Followed you?” Megan repeats, blinking fast. She has to admit, the criminals don’t usually talk back like this. Usually, they’re more—aggressive, badmouthing her like everything is Spider-Man’s fault. This thief’s words and her smooth voice have thrown Megan slightly off-kilter. This woman is—flirting with her? “You—you stole something. I’m here to make sure you give it back,” she says, drawing her fists up to her hips and pushing out her chest.
“So heroic,” she drawls, strutting closer a few steps. Megan can now make out a short, feminine figure wrapped in black leather, a shock of white fur around the collar and calves. The woman steps closer again, a lazy smirk on her dark lips. “Is that what you are, Spider-Man? A hero?”
Megan clears her throat harshly and draws herself up as much as she can. “I do what I can to help the city,” she says humbly.
“Mhm,” The woman drawls, stepping closer still. A black mask sits over the woman’s cheekbones, concealing the upper half of her face. Below, full lips are painted a deep burgundy.
Megan swallows. She hates when criminals are pretty. She tries not to look at her too hard, her eyes flicking past the woman’s face.
The woman stands directly in front of Megan now, and stretches an arm out towards her. A metal claw is pointed on the end of each fingernail, and she touches the tip of her pointer finger to the black spider emblazoned on Megan’s chest. She taps it with the tip of her claw.
Megan swallows in a breath.
The woman looks at her closely, eyes drawing over Megan’s figure with her finger still squarely against Megan’s chest. Megan watches as she leans back slightly, gazing at Spider-Man through narrowed eyes. “You’re also a woman.”
Megan blinks. “Uh—Yes.”
The woman tilts her head. “Then why do the papers call you Spider-Man?”
“Um,” Megan starts. “I guess I’ve just never—I’ve never corrected them. It doesn’t bother me or anything,” she says, then quickly follows it up with, “But I am a woman!”
The thief’s lip curls up, eyes wandering further down. “Yes, I can see that.”
Megan swallows. She’s not sure what to say now.
The woman smirks. “Well. What happens now, Spider?”
Megan falters. “Uh,” she splutters, then blinks hard to regain her sense. She looks just past the woman’s ear and tries to speak clearly. “Usually, I—uh. I apprehend the villain and bring them into police custody,” she says simply.
The woman tilts her head. “Villain? Is that right?”
“Well. By definition—”
The woman pouts up at Megan, this pure, simpering thing. “I don’t hurt anyone. Except for those that deserve it. And I haven’t broken anything, have I?”
Megan’s eyes flicker down to her, stuck on the way this woman has to tilt her chin to look up at her. Megan sucks in a breath. “I guess not.”
The thief’s eyes lower, down past Spider-Man’s neck and shoulders, towards her chest. There, the woman’s finger still rests against the black spider crest. The thief lifts her hand to press against the left side of Spider-Man’s chest, then draws an X with her fingertip, intersecting right at Spider-Man’s heart. She leans up, closer to Spider-Man, and whispers, “At least, haven’t broken anything yet.”
Megan leans back. Her heart thuds underneath the thief’s fingertip, her chest tingles. “Um,” she breathes out.
The woman brushes the pads of her fingers against the middle of Megan’s chest. “Your heart’s beating pretty fast there.” She grins, tilting her head again to look up at Spider-Man. “Got a crush on me or something, Spider?”
Megan’s eyes widen. “I—”
The woman heaves out a sigh and steps back, twirling away. “This has been a nice talk and all, but I’ve got places to be.” She walks back towards the edge of the rooftop.
“Wait!” Megan exclaims. She shoots a hand in the woman’s direction, a web flying out to stick the woman’s boot to the concrete of the rooftop.
The woman looks down at her shoe, and tests moving it around against the sticky webbing. “Ew,” the woman grumbles. “What even is this stuff?”
Megan straightens up, excited to talk about her invention. “Oh! Well, I made it, actually!” She jogs closer, pointing down at the intricate webs. “It’s a mix of a whole bunch of stuff, I can’t really tell you, but I came up with it! Went through, like, twenty batches of it before I got it right.”
The woman looks up at Megan, mouth curled at one side. “Well done, nerd. Now, why don’t you take this stuff off for me?”
Megan rocks on her feet, pointing at the thief with two finger guns. “Oh, I actually can’t do that, yet.”
The woman tilts her head. “And why’s that?”
“Well, you stole that jewellery. From the Cartier store. They’re gonna have to arrest you.”
“Arrest me?”
“Yes. For stealing.”
“Well, why didn’t you just say so?” The woman grins. “C’mere.”
Megan walks closer, obediently.
The woman puts a hand on Megan’s shoulder and draws her in close. Just as their breaths near one another, the thief slips a hand past the fur lining her collar, right at the swell of her breast.
Megan’s eyes widen, flicking down. Unbiddenly, her gaze follows the path of the woman’s hand.
The woman smirks. When her hand draws back out from her suit, a shining silver necklace dangles from the claw of her pointer finger. The diamonds wink back at Megan. She presses the necklace to Spider-Man’s chest. “All yours, Spider.”
“Oh,” Megan blinked, cradling it against her chest. “Really?”
“Sure.” The woman hummed. “Not my style, anyway.”
“Oh,” Megan says again, feeling like she’s missing something. Under her breath, she mumbles, “That was easier than I thought.”
The woman puts a hand on Megan’s shoulder again and tugs her boot against the webs. “Now, will you be a doll and help me out?”
“For sure,” Megan scrambles, crouching down onto one knee next to the woman’s boot. She grabs the bulk of the web in her fist and gives a firm tug, watching most of the netting break away under her strength. She stands up again, grinning. “All done.”
The woman pats her shoulder, lip curling up. “God, you’re cute.”
“Uh,” Megan says, shifting. She realises how close they’re standing now that she’s stood back up from leaning near to the woman’s boot. She’s lucky her mask covers the colour blooming at her cheeks. She rubs the back of her neck. “Thanks?”
“Mm,” The woman hums, tilting her head. For a moment, neither of them says anything. Then, the woman steps back a little. “Well, Spider, I think it’s time I go.”
“Huh?” Megan blinks.
“I told you. Got places to be.”
“But—” Megan protests. “You can’t just go.”
“Why not?” The woman tilts her head. “You got your necklace back. I didn’t break anything in the store. No harm done, right?”
Megan looks down at the jewellery in her grasp. “Um—well, you—I mean, I guess so,” she mumbles. She flicks her eyes back up to the woman, and hardens her voice. “Just, don’t do it again, okay?”
The corner of the woman’s lip curls, her canine sparkling in the moonlight. “Sure.” She turns away, poising herself against the edge of the roof. Over her shoulder, she calls back, “Nice meeting you, Spider.”
Megan steps forward quickly. “You know who I am,” she starts. “What do I call you?”
The woman looks over her shoulder, smiling. “Black Cat.” Then, she dives off the edge, swinging away on the line of a grappling hook.
“Black Cat,” Megan mumbles. “Fitting.”
For a while, Megan just stands there, watching the figure of Black Cat become smaller and smaller in the distance.
Her head is reeling from that conversation. She’s never had that kind of interaction with a criminal before. She would say that the woman made her feel like she was standing on the edge of a building by the tips of her toes, but she’s actually done that before and never felt the rush of nerves that she felt just now, standing in front of Black Cat. Her chest still tingles from the feeling of the thief’s claws against her chest.
Megan allows herself a small smile. The woman is interesting, she’ll give her that. She wonders if she’ll see the thief again, one of these nights.
For now, she still has to close up this job.
Spider-Man turns over her shoulder and starts running across the rooftops, back towards Beverly Hills. Time to replace that necklace.
No harm done, indeed.
--
In the middle of the night, a small figure wrapped in leather and fur swings through the open window of an apartment, halfway up the building.
She lands without a sound, black boots silent against the carpet.
This part of her night-time activities is much easier, now that she doesn’t share a bedroom with one of her members.
Her mask makes a dull thud when it lands on the nightstand. The woman turns around and sits down heavily against her mattress, reaching down to start unzipping her boots. However, once she reaches her right boot, she stops.
Her fingers run over the remnants of webbing, faintly translucent lines sticking stubbornly against the sole. It reminds her of the events mere moments ago, and the hero who put those there. “Damn, Spider,” she mumbles.
She’s never met Spider-Man before. Not even when she was walking along the street, and the hero happened to swing by overhead. Their paths have never crossed, until now.
The hero is kinder than she would’ve thought. Awkward, too. It’s obvious that Spider-Man tries to come off confident and self-assured, but the hero repeatedly stuttered and stammered in response to whatever she said.
Spider just made it so easy for her. Being flirty and playful was kind of her modus operandi when she wore the suit, but she couldn’t help putting it on a little more when she met Spider-Man. She could only imagine how red the hero turned, underneath that mask.
“Daniela!” Manon calls.
Dani’s head whips over her shoulder to check that her friend doesn’t come in yet. She yells back, “Just gimme a second!” Daniela pulls off her boots, disregarding the webs now. She rushes to unzip her black suit, pulling the zipper from between the valley of her breasts downwards towards her navel.
“Okay, but, Megan’s here. We’re gonna watch a movie if you wanna join us.” Manon offers, her words filtering through Dani’s closed door.
“Yeah, sure, I’ll meet you in a sec,” Daniela hums, focusing on manoeuvring her lower body out of her suit. This is always, by far, the worst part of it. She hasn’t yet figured out a quicker way to get out of her suit.
These night-time activities are somewhat of a recent development for her. The flipping and the acrobatics are something she’s done ever since she was young, sure. The thieving too, actually—albeit on a much smaller scale and with some friends as part of ongoing bets while still growing up in Georgia. The more larger scale, more criminal offences only started occurring in the past few months.
Daniela’s schedules with Katseye have always been demanding. They sucked up large parts of her day and most of her mental load. And yes, while it was the career she had chosen and continued to choose, there were times where she needed to rely on other things to help clear her mind.
She knew the stealing wasn’t exactly kosher, as some would say. But, she always found a way to minimise the costs—say, like stealing from big corporations who wouldn’t feel the effects, or something of the like.
What can she say—some people did yoga to take their mind off of their struggles. Daniela stole.
And if there's an adorable masked hero who goes around and cleans her messes up for her, is there really any issue?
When Dani’s finally able to roll the leather all the way down her thighs and calves, she steps out of it and kicks it underneath her bed. She scrambles to open her nightstand and file away her mask, too.
Daniela hastily scoops up all her curls into a high bun as she walks out into the corridor. Her hair always gets wild on nights like these.
Out in the living room, Manon and Megan sit on either of the couches, eyes locked on the television screen.
Megan snaps her eyes to Dani’s. She immediately gives the Latina a sweet smile, dimples pressing underneath her eyes. “Hey,” Megan greets her.
“Hey, cutie,” Dani says back, patting Megan’s head when she passes by the back of the couch on the way to the kitchen. Daniela watches Megan swivel her head around to continue to look at the Latina, and Daniela grins back. She opens the fridge to look through its contents greedily. Tonight’s ordeal has left her starving. Briefly, she thinks back to Spider-Man, and the hardness of her muscles when she felt her chest and shoulders. Starving, indeed.
“Hey, how come you never call me cutie?” She hears Manon ask.
Daniela lets a sly smile curl on her lip. “Maybe ‘cos you’re not as cute as Megan,” she says, letting her voice carry over to the living room.
Megan’s childish laughter and Manon’s subsequent outrage passes through the corridor, and it makes Daniela huff out a giggle underneath her breath.
While she grabs some leftovers and waits for it to heat up in the microwave, she can still hear Megan and Manon bickering out in the living room.
Daniela blows on the food, chews a bite, and carries the takeout container out to join them.
Manon points straight at her when she crosses into the room, then at Megan, repeatedly switching between them. “Blatant favouritism!” She accuses.
Daniela grins and takes a seat next to Megan on the couch, letting their shoulders touch. “And what of it?” She says, brow raised.
“It’s sickening,” Manon states, eyes narrowed playfully at Daniela and Megan.
Daniela rolls her eyes, still smiling from the banter, and takes another bite of her food. “You’re just jealous,” she chides.
“Sucks to suck,” Megan adds on, wide grin on her face.
Manon glares over at Megan, then says to Daniela, “I’m your roommate, I’m meant to be your favourite.” Then, she complains, “I haven’t even seen you all day, I swear you’ve been rotting like a vegetable in your room for hours. At some point, I even forgot you were at home!”
Daniela smiles wryly down at her food. If only she knew. She takes another bite and lays her head on Megan’s shoulder while she chews. She feels Megan lay her head atop Daniela’s own. “What are you, my mother?” She says to Manon, playfully annoyed.
Megan joins in on goading Manon. “Yeah, why you keepin’ tabs on her and shit?”
Manon twists her mouth, closing her eyes forcefully and pressing a hand to her forehead. She heaves a great sigh, “I know you guys are, like, rage-baiting me on purpose, so why am I still getting angry.” Daniela can see Manon fighting a grin underneath her hand.
“You should just accept your defeat gracefully,” Megan says, relaxing further into the couch. She wraps an arm around Dani’s shoulder, letting it hang there. Daniela feels the muscles of Megan's biceps flex on the backside of her neck. It makes the Latina smile.
“Defeat?” Manon squawks.
Megan nods, sagely. “For Dani’s affection.”
Daniela snorts, laughing into her hand as she shoves Megan playfully. The girl grins at her widely, completely unbothered.
Manon leans forward, outraged, “Okay, now you’re really starting to—”
“Okay, relax, relax!” Daniela says quickly, reaching up to hold Megan’s hand dangling from her shoulder. She squeezes the taller girl’s hand in warning. “Let’s not kill each other. What movie are we going to watch?”
Manon’s glare lingers on Megan for a while longer, wry smile still on her lips to show that she’s not actually taking this to heart. Out the corner of her eye, Daniela can also tell that Megan grins back at Manon, devilishly. Daniela lays her free hand on Megan’s knee.
“Twilight!” Manon suggests immediately.
Daniela groans. “God, not again.”
“Come on, please! You owe me, now.”
Dani rolls her eyes, huffing dramatically. “Fine. I’ll probably fall asleep in the first ten minutes anyway.” She shuts her eyes, nestling comfortably against Megan. The Latina mumbles quietly, “I’m exhausted.”
“You can fall asleep, don’t worry,” Megan says lowly, matching Daniela’s volume. Dani feels her tuck her arm closer around the Latina.
“Thank you,” she mumbles.
She hardly even hears the opening scene of Twilight before she’s asleep.
--
“Megan,” Manon whispers exasperatedly, as if she’s said it over and over again.
Megan groans, opening her eyes slowly. “What?” She picks her head up from where it was resting against Daniela’s.
“As if you both fell asleep. I should’ve just watched it by myself,” Manon grumbles.
Megan presses a hand into her eye, rubbing into the hollow. “Not our fault you wanted to watch Twilight for the thousandth time.”
“Let’s not be dramatic.”
Megan feels a wry smile lift tiredly onto her lips, despite herself. She carefully stretches her arms out, paying attention not to jostle Daniela too much on her shoulder. The girl lets out the faintest hum, and snuggles closer into Megan’s neck.
Megan blinks repeatedly to wake herself up, then immediately whines. “I don’t wanna go back to my apartment,” she complains, head falling to the back of the couch.
Manon shrugs her shoulders, standing up from the couch and stretching. “Then don’t. Sleep in Dani’s room,” she says simply.
Megan tilts her head to look down at Daniela, still snoozing gently on Megan’s shoulder. “Do you think she’d mind?”
Manon snorts. “Obviously not. Apparently, you’re her favourite.”
Megan grins, looking back up at Manon. “You know she was just saying that to rile you up.”
Manon smiles back. “I know. But she also wasn’t actually joking—you are her favourite.”
Unbiddenly, Megan feels her cheeks warm. She’s been blushing a lot tonight, more than she can handle. It makes her think back to the thief she met tonight, effortlessly confident and flirty in a way that immediately set Megan’s spidey senses aflame.
The floorboards creak under Manon’s feet as she walks around the room, cleaning it up slightly for the night. Over her shoulder, she tells Megan, “You’ll have to wake Dani up so ya’ll can go sleep in her room.”
While Manon continues to amble around the room quietly, Megan peeks down at Daniela again. For a moment, she just watches the Latina breathe.
Daniela was Megan’s first friend, all the way back in Dream Academy days. They got close quickly, bound by the stresses of training and a strong dancing background. In those earlier days, the ongoing conflict of elimination or making it through to the group made them lean on each other heavily.
When Megan got bit by that radioactive spider halfway through Dream Academy, she told no-one. She knew it was her responsibility, her burden, to keep. But if she were to ever tell anyone, she knew Daniela would’ve been the first to know.
Sometimes, when their days as Katseye are long, and Megan’s nights as Spider-Man are even longer, she staggers into her bed in the wee hours of the morning and her first thoughts are that she wishes she had someone to support her. She wishes she had someone to share that burden with. And she wishes it were Daniela.
Daniela, who’s been there for her longer than anyone else. Daniela, who understands her more than anyone else. Daniela, who always knows what Megan needs. And she, who always knows what Daniela needs.
Dani mumbles against Megan’s skin, still deep asleep on her shoulder. Slow as ever, Megan brings up a hand to cradle Dani’s jaw and slide her head to lean back against the couch. With her weight no longer on Megan, the taller girl now straightens up.
Megan leans down slightly, hooking an arm around the underside of Dani’s knees and the other underneath her shoulder blades. Without a single struggle, she stands up with Dani tucked into her arms, the Latina’s face nestled against her neck.
Manon looks over, does a double-take, then lets out a low whistle. A playful smile draws on her lips, “Damn, Megan, when did you get muscles?”
Megan looks over to Manon with wide eyes, frozen with Daniela tight against her. Maybe she should’ve pretended to stumble or something. Daniela and her weigh slightly the same amount—it’s undoubtedly a little weird that Megan can carry Dani with no issues at all. Well, it would be, if Megan didn’t have supernatural strength. “Uh,” Megan intones, forearms flexing around Dani’s body. “She’s not—that heavy,” she mumbles.
“Guess not,” Manon chuckles. She turns away from Megan and Daniela, walking back towards her bedroom. Before she disappears through her door, she says, “Those pre-rehearsal workouts must be paying off. See you tomorrow.”
Just before Manon’s door closes, Megan says a quiet, “Goodnight,” and then it’s just her and Daniela, still snoozing in her arms. She looks down at the girl and sighs. She needs to more careful, Megan tells herself.
Megan walks quietly down the hallway and slides Dani’s door open with her foot. Inside, she crosses the room easily and stops by the bed.
In the low light of Dani’s bedroom, Megan can slightly make out some dark-coloured clothes peeking out halfway underneath Dani’s bed. Megan almost steps on it. She uses her foot to kick it further underneath the bedframe, too tired to think about cleaning up for the girl.
The carpet is soft underneath Megan’s knee when she kneels by the bed and lays Daniela down, carefully. Dani hardly even seems to notice, curling up on her side immediately. Megan smiles, reaching out to twist a stray curl out of the Latina’s face.
Megan lays down carefully in the small space next to Dani. As soon as she settles, Dani nudges closer, arm curling around Megan’s and chin nestling against Megan’s collarbone. Her little cheek presses warmly on Megan’s skin.
Megan’s eyes soften seeing the Latina like this—clingy and gentle in a way she rarely is with anyone else. Megan loves that they allow themselves to be like this with one another. With them gearing up to start rehearsals for their new single Gabriela, their days are about to get even busier, and they will need to keep supporting one another just like this.
Megan thinks, even if Daniela doesn’t know about her night-time escapades, having the Latina’s support during the day will be more than enough.
She closes her eyes contentedly, leaning into Dani’s warmth.