Chapter Text
Friday could not have ended sooner.
That's all Prism can really focus on as she bustles through her tried and true 'end of week' routine. It wasn't anything real fancy- she didn't even change out of her hero costume, or take her makeup off- just in case the team ended up going out.
It was maintenance- you know? Fixing her hair up, putting on a fresh coat of lipstick, making sure her arm bands were angled just right, checking her notifications.
Little stuff, just while she was still in 'work mode', just stuff Alice didn't wanna deal with.
Today, that routine just so happened to include shooting a text off to one bitchass old man. Ah- shit, wait, was that too mean? She didn't mean anythin' by it, not really, and Chase was technically her partner in crime for today so… mm.
Nah- he joked like that all the time. It was fine. Probably.
She'll just keep it one of those 'inside thoughts' that Roberto was always lecturing her about. Dude was kinda sensitive about being so old.. for some reason…
…anyway-
The plan. Er- routine.
Some might argue that kidnapping an obviously traumatized white man with some obvious form of PTSD was a bad idea. Ordinarily, Alice might even agree with them. Ordinarily… yes.. she would be the first to chew out her team if they pulled that shit on anyone- let alone someone they all.. collectively seemed to care about. Like.
Tolerate.
Whatever. She didn't want to think about it.
Ordinary didn't apply to a guy like Robert goddamn Robertson the goddamn Third, anyway.
And wasn't that weird. A freckle faced, too skinny, white guy- with a name you'd find on a fake ID- and you couldn't stick the word ordinary on him if you tried.
Or average, or plain.
Not with his past, not with the scars painting almost every square inch of skin beneath his stereotype-ass lookin' clothes. Not with the scar on the side of his neck- the circular and jagged one, the one he could never quite finagle his shirt into completely hiding-
Alice knew what scars like that came from.
And she wishes she didn't. She wishes the skin on the soft insides of her elbows was unblemished and pretty- and that they didn't need to be padded with soft gauze and med tape under her gloves.
She wishes her sleeves and accessories were for fashion more than they were for function.
But she could stand around doing that for as long as she liked, if it would ever actually get her anything. She could stand here, and wish things were a little easier- a little softer…
G E E Z E R
GEEZER: The fuck is taking you so fucking long
GEEZER: Fuckers getting fucking suspicious
YOU: learn how to use fuck, damn
..or she could do something about it.
Alice staunchly ignores the heated string of emojis Chase sends her next and finishes packing up, so fast with it that she can feel herself splitting. Only slightly, only enough to leave a slight comet trail in her wake.
That was always weird- splitting. Her duplicates were… her, in a way. Fragments of the whole. They listened to her. But… the pop star stares down at her purple palm.
…blue palm. This glove was.. blue. This was her right hand. Blue for right, pink for left. That was the order.
Her duplicates were her. They listened to her.
What was she supposed to do.. again? When this happened…?
…count her fingers- right? Five per hand.. pinkie, ring, middle… heh.. wait, shit. Pinkie, ring, middle, pointer, pointer, thumb.
Six. Perfect.
…no-
"One, two-" Alice brings her hand closer, willing her eyes to focus- "…one, two, three, four-"
Pinkie, pinkie- no-
Pink, blue- wait..
Pinkie.. blue, middle- ring-
"FUCK."
thud.
The pain that lances up her arm is grounding, sorta, in a mean kind of way. It ricochets up her knuckles and muscle and scars with brutal efficiency- tethers her to the strap of a bag digging into her shoulder that she- hadn't realized had been there- and it hurts.
Hurts almost as much as breathing suddenly does, when her chest heaves and her breaths feel like they're coming through a straw.
But it does its job.
Thumb, pointer, middle, ring, pinkie. Five fingers, curled into a perfectly blue fist. Blue, as it fucking should be. Not purple, not- pink. Blue. Sure, her knuckles hurt like hell now but at least she had the right amount.
"Fuck…" she sighs again, before very very slowly relaxing, before taking the stupid color-coded bitches off entirely, "Yeah. Some R&R is.. definitely in order."
Fuck.
Alice hasn't had an episode like that in.. in a long time.
. . .
Kidnapping her dispatcher is pretty easy, in comparison.
Chase was right when he said Robert was getting suspicious- motherfucker had that adorable scrunch between his brows he only got when a certain edge of petulant helplessness was setting in. When the team was complimenting him or hazing him and he couldn't quite figure out if it was genuine or not.
It typically was- if they were complimenting
More than once, the pop star had wanted to reach and smooth that scrunch out- thumb it away with some bullshit excuse like avoiding wrinkles. She would've caved and done it by now, for sure, if he hadn't..
…the last, and only, time she's directly touched the skinny man had been a test. An innocent test, mind you, just the waters of a potentially tactile relationship and, when her gloved fingers at brushed the skin of his arm, he'd-
He'd shuddered away.
Hadn't even seemed to realize he'd done it either.
Prism pretty much stopped reaching out after that. They were only ever really around each other when she was Prism, and it'd just be a hassle to peel the damn things on and off and on again and blah blah blah.
It wasn't worth it, really, is what she was getting at. Not worth the vulnerability.
But… now.. now Prism was clocking out. Now, Alice and Robert were going to get to spend some quality time together, and she was going to take full advantage of that. Now, her gloves were off.
The soft gauze taped to the crooks of her elbows feels stiff and exposed in the late evening air- lacking the pressure she's come to expect in this outfit, but it's kinda nice too.
It's kinda like they match... in some- abstract, fucked up way.
He obviously hears the click clack sound of her boots as she approaches- Alice doesn't bother to hide it- but he doesn't get the chance to turn around before the pop star pounces.
Alice sweeps him up over her shoulders like the woman on a mission she is, thanking every god she can think of that she never skipped out on her squats. Annoying as hell in the moment, but damn did it make her ass look amazing.
Oh- and make it easier to scoop up skinny, freckled dispatchers that were in desperate need of some pampering. And food, damn.
Fuck, wasn't 'Bae supposed to be feeding his scrawny ass? Why was he still so- so light. Was it not enough..? Should the others get in on it too? Probably- definitely.
He weighs less than her warm-up weight.
Okay. Adding food more substantial than snacks to the roster for tonight is a must..
Robert twitches in the fireman's carry she's thrown him into, and it immediately pulls her out of such thoughts and plans. She doesn't think he'd ever consciously hurt her, not unless it was absolutely unavoidable like- mind control or something- but.. eugh, he was flighty. And when he got flighty, he bit people's extremities off.
Alice stretches him out a little more- a little more evenly across her shoulders.
Just so he gets a better view of who's holding him, she tells herself, …definitely not to keep his chompers away or anything. No..
It's probably only because Chase isn't flying off the fucking rails that Robert calms down so fast. Or- he doesn't calm exactly, Alice doesn't think he knows the meaning of the word, but his skinny arms stop scrabbling to put her in a chokehold, so… she'll take her wins where she can.
The old man leans down to pick up Beef.
"What the fffuc-" he wheezes at them, almost offendedly, as the tension starts to stutters out of his lanky body.
A deep breath, nearly soundless if it wasn't right by her ear, follows- a release of fear, or a sigh of aggravation.. she can't really tell the difference- but with it bleeds the last of escape attempts.
Good.
Alice squeezes what she's got of his knee and thigh in approval, before hefting him- though that's a generous way to put it- a little higher.
"Your ass is mine for the night-"
"Don't fuckin' phrase it like that-" Chase gripes.
The pop star flips him off, but doesn't break stride, "-Roberto. Come on, we're having a girls night."
She thinks she see the old geezer scoff and shake his head- either unable or unwilling to let go of Beef long enough to do the same. But she's also walking off with her catch before anything can be proven.
And this time, when Robert sighs, it's one she's far more familiar with.
"Are you gonna carry me the whole way, or can I at least be a walking kidnap victim?"
Oh. Oh, that was funny. He had jokes!
"Hah hah, naaah, you got to be fucked up if you think I'm giving you a chance to run away," Alice tells him sweetly, now in a far better mood than she'd been just minutes earlier, "Sides, you're probably used to it."
Tragic motherfucker.
"Getting kidnapped?"
"Yeah."
"You know, I hate that I can't actually deny that."
Tragic. Motherfucker.
Alice can't ignore how it makes her chest clench, even though she was the one to make the assumption. She can't ignore that it makes it a little harder to breathe, to actually think instead of succumbing to the rage prickling under her skin.
Robert makes it a little easier when he pipes up, and when his lanky limbs start getting twitchy again, "Hey- seriously, can you put me down now? Pr-"
"Alice."
"Alice. Surely, being the most media trained member, you can tell this is a little.. um… embarrassing?"
Embarrassing?
The pop star comes to stop in the middle of the sidewalk, to weigh the validity of such an accusation. And make him squirm a little more, but that was besides the point. Mostly.
He was cute when he was a little squirmy, sue her.
Anyway- she can't put him down, or he'll run away!
Damnit, she worked hard setting this day [weekend really, if she can manage to keep him] up! She'd been on her best behavior to soften away his bitchiness, she hadn't failed a single call, she hadn't even really joined in on any hazing!
She deserved this!
Her breath comes out sharply through her nose.
What to do.. what to do- ah.
That could work.
Her fingers drum idly on Robert's inner arm and knee, as she gauges exactly how much force she'll need to-
Oh- too much force-
Robert lands so easily in a bridal carry that Alice has to square off her stance to stop him from tumbling right down to the ground. His pretty auburn hair brushes the dirty concrete before she manages to stop his descent, a dip to the extremes as she holds his legs aloft.
It's harder to ignore the prettier flush on his ears when she brings him back up.
"Better?" Alice teases.
Or.. so she tries.
It comes out just this side of too soft, for it to be anything more than a shared breath.
Robert shifts only slightly in her hold, and his bony fingers relax from where they'd briefly clutched for instinctive balance. The tension that had sprung up with movement fades away with his irritated sigh- with each glossy blink of surprise.
"…yeah," he eventually concedes, a perfectly pliant not-really-weight in her arms.
"Good boy."
Getting her prize home after that is soo much easier.
He seems content to just be toted around like a purse dog, or maybe he's just too embarrassed from her praise to pipe up with any more snarky feedback, so Alice makes it all the way to setting him on her couch with ease.
Somewhat ease.
She shakes her arms out. Robert might not be heavy but damn. It was harder work than she thought dead lifting an entire body all the way from SDN to her home.
The too skinny body in question tucks his hands under thighs seemingly absentmindedly, while his eyes [fuck, his eyes] trailed around the room. They'd started out narrowed, clocking exits she knows he won't take, and then they'd relaxed into something almost like curiosity.
Like wonder, at the set up, at the colors. At how the lights were kept just this side of too dim for most people, but just right for her own much too sensitive eyes.
"Stay here a sec, baby, I gotta get changed."
It'd be more accurate to say that Alice has to leave before she does something stupid like bite him.
But she does have to change- a form fitting body suit doesn't lend itself to a night of relaxation, so it's not like she was entirely lying. An oversized button down and slacks doesn't either…
Alice rifles through her drawers.
She'd already picked her pajamas out this morning, as soon as she'd woken up. They were laid out on her bed right now, a pretty thing of white silk that sparkled with a pinkish blue shadow. It had a cute little bow on the collar, and cuter lace on the short hems.
A robe was laid out next to it- a number a bit more sheer, a bit more sexy, that she'd borrowed from Malevola some handful of weeks ago. A couple of times, actually, it was comfy as fuck after a hook-up.
Not that she'd be using it for that tonight. Obviously.
Unfortunately.
It is what it is- if the Z Team's eventually wooing plan panned out then there'd be plenty of time for that later. Tonight was for pampering and spoiling.
The pop star finally finds some soft, older clothes- blue bamboo pjs she never ended up wearing- in the back of her closet, and decides those might actually be perfect for the wet cat sitting on her couch.
So, without any further stalling, Alice gets dressed.
She takes a moment to peel off the old gauze on the insides of her elbows and throw them away in her bedroom's bathroom. And then just.. stares.
The scars there, ugly circular things, are long healed already. They're really only covered these days to stop her gloves from tugging on them.. Flambae had seen them…
Robert had more.
"Your turn, bitch," Alice throws the pajamas at his face before she can think herself out of it.
However.. the pop star had… mayhaps… neglected the fact that her dispatcher's hands were still under his legs. The cloth hits him square in the nose, and drags an offended grunt right outta his skinny chest.
Aside from that, it's pretty easy to coax him into the new outfit. Maybe she's already worn out all his protests, maybe the allure of soft fabric was too good to pass up, she can't quite bring herself to care.
Not when his eyes are alight with pleasant surprise.
The night passes them too fast.
Alice gets him to try some of her favorite snacks- learns what he used to eat on the job when he was still active, and the.. lack thereof. Learns they shared some favorites growing up. Not twinkies, never those chemically yellow monstrosities..
Eugh.
But-
"No shit… for real? You were a bug juice kid?"
"Fuck yes, I was a bug juice kid. Chase used to sneak them into the house all the time when he'd babysit me-"
She bullies him into a face mask, surprisingly; the first and last he'll ever do, if the full body cringe is anything to go by.
"I.. don't think I like this.." he'd wheezed out, shoulders up by his ears.
Alice had practically doubled over laughing, "Fuckin' clearly.. haha- ah, don't worry, don't worry, I get it. It's not for everyone."
Really, she's just grateful he tried.
And that he seems more receptive to nail painting that skin care. Alice paints his nails a pretty gun metal blue and accents his middle and ring with orange and yellow.
She makes him paint hers black, with a top coat of glow-in-the-dark glitter.
He's not very good at it.
"Shit.. sorry, Alice-" Robert had told her, teeth biting into his lower lip as his hands trembled and splattered paint on the skin of her nail beds, "I don't-"
"Hey, baby, it's alright," she'd tried to soothe, when she'd brought her free hand up to gently free that abused flesh, "That's what the remover is for."
They don't end up as neat as when 'Bae does them, but that's to be expected. She still makes a point of lacing their fingers together- keeping their faces well out of the shot because he's weird about that- and posting it on her socials.
Anybody who's got a problem with it can kiss her fine ass.
She still makes a point of dragging him to her large bed, when his pretty eyes start to droop. She still makes a point of turning on one of those old ass movies he likes to fall asleep to.
Robert still keeps a foot of space between them, because of goddamn course he does.
Alice just scowls, "Mr. Dispatcher, I did not kidnap you, spoil you rotten, and hand pick this movie just for you to leave room for jesus. Get over here."
He's still too thin around the middle, when she gets her arms around him. He's too bony, under her cheek, too bony against her ribs.
But he's loose too.
He's soft in all the ways that matter, when he relaxes only a second after being grabbed. He's soft in the way he oh-so-tentatively rests his hand on her back.
He's even soft when he speaks up next, "…I think.. this might be the angriest I've ever been cuddled."
He's soft, even when his heart is racing under her ear.
Alice sticks her tongue out at him and holds on tighter.