Chapter Text
Sylvie woke slowly to the feeling of movement. Her body was enveloped in warmth, the sweet smell of coconut and vanilla relaxing her. As she regained consciousness, she noticed a pair of arms wrapped around her tightly, her back pressed to the soft curves of the other woman. A blush rose to her cheeks as she took in their position, but she made no move to untangle herself from Bee, feeling more comfortable and safer for the first time since she could remember.
She closed her eyes again and snuggled deeper in her hold, a soft smile reaching her lips. She thought about all the times she had to sleep in the ruins, the cusp of an ending world upon her. Sometimes she was lucky enough to get a clean and relatively safe place to sleep, but it had taken her many years to figure out which places in time to go to for a good night's sleep.
She wished that this was something she could have. A person to share space with, a comforting presence to be around instead of watching innocent people die in apocalypses over and over again.
She didn’t want to rule or to have power. She just wanted to be free. To stop running from the TVA that had pulled her from her life and family and forced her into hiding.
But most of all she didn’t want to be alone.
It was an unfamiliar feeling being around Bee, someone who had trusted her so implicitly even after she had enchanted her. Who held out her hand so that Sylvie could show Bee her old life. Didn’t fight her or blame her, just accepted the truth.
She was pulled from her rumination when the other woman woke completely, unwinding her arms from her body quickly, as if she was burned.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hold you hostage,” Bee said sheepishly as she made room between them.
Sylvie's smile faded instantly as her side started to get cold from the lack of contact. She understood that Bee was just embarrassed but it still hurt to be pulled away from her so suddenly.
She tried to school her expression into something casual as she said, “It’s ok, I didn’t mind.”
It was an understatement, really, she wanted nothing more than to lie in her arms every night, to smell her coconut shampoo and feel her warmth.
“Right, ok.”
Trying to break the tension, she asked, “How does breakfast sound?”
Bee groaned at the mention of food. “I’m still a bit too nauseous to eat, but I’ll try.”
“Great.”
“No questions?”
Her ears flamed red as she realised how affected she really was from the snuggling. “I forgot, um what’s your name?”
“Bee,” she said without hesitation, a wide grinning splitting her face in two.
Sylvie’s sour mood left at the quick response, a feeling of contentment settling over her. It gave her hope that Bee could turn over a new leaf and begin to heal from all the ruin the TVA had caused. To take control of her life and get her agency back. She was really proud of her, but she also yearned to be able to do the same. To let go of all the hatred that had driven her for so long, that kept her alive. She didn’t want that life. She didn’t want the thought of revenge to be the only thing that kept her going.
But most of all, she didn’t want to be alone.
“Good girl.”
---
It was late in the afternoon when they met again, both tired from the day of getting the TVA under control. Bee was still a little worse for wear, but she had taken her usual role as a leader in stride, despite the change of circumstances.
Sylvie felt the exhaustion settle in her bones; the way it only ever did when she overused her magic.
She had eons of practice with enchanting people but clearing the fog on so many workers' minds was a whole other ball game. Their minds were all but split in two by fog. One half a creation made by the TVA made up of the mundanity of their bland work-life, filled with overwhelming bureaucracy.
The other half was beautiful. Bright and full of unique memories, of family and friends. All the weird little things that humans did to preoccupy their short lives, like bird-watching and crocheting. Innocuous things that made people’s lives so special. The free will to do things for no other reason than because they enjoyed it.
She missed that feeling of doing things without purpose.
Being snatched away from her childhood made it hard to remember the last time she had done something like that. Sure, she had fun when she fought–she was the goddess of mischief after all–but it was never aimless.
The workers sparked a light in her, forcing her to remember that life was about much more than she had been experiencing for all this time. It wasn’t about control so much as it was the opportunity to let go.
She was going to do just that and go after what she wanted, even if she couldn’t keep it.
Bee waved her hands in front of her face, eyebrows pinched together in concern. “Sylvie? Are you ok?”
Refocusing her eyes onto Bee’s pretty face, she hummed, “Hmm? Oh yeah, just thinking that I should stay again tonight; you know to make sure you’re ok.”
Bee cocked her head to the side and looked at her questioningly. “Do you have to wake me up again?”
“Well, no. But just to be sure,” she said lamely, trying to justify herself.
Without hesitation, Bee nodded in agreement,. “Okay, I’ll go get you some Pyjamas.”
-----
Sylvie clapped loudly once, a mischievous grin in place. “Bee, it’s time for you to learn how to use daggers. You’re not sick anymore so you can’t put it off any longer.”
Bee startled at the noise, looking up from her book with a sheepish look. Sylvie’s insides melted at how adorable Bee looked while relaxing in her bright orange shirt that made her skin shine and her dark eyes pop.
“I wasn’t putting it off.”
She shot the woman with a look of doubt. “Sure you weren’t. Come on, I just checked and the training room is free.”
“Fine, but I don’t think daggers are really my thing,” Bee whined, but put her book down in defeat.
“It will be once I’m done with you.”
Once they arrived at the training room and checked that there was no stray TVA staff loitering around and messing around with the equipment, they got to work stretching and warming up.
When they were done, Sylvie conjured two silver daggers with hilts carved with traditional Asgardian markings. She hadn’t seen a real one in many years, but her magic still made them in their likeness, as if her magic itself missed home.
“Here,” she said, passing the blade to Bee, hilt first. “These are filed blunt so you can practice without cutting yourself, they’ll still hurt if you try to stab me though, so go easy.”
“I’m not going to stab you!” Bee exclaimed as if she was offended by the very thought.
Sylvie winked playfully. “You can try.”
The other woman seemed to pause at that, unsure how to respond before she held onto the daggers with a white-knuckled grip.
“Here, switch your grip, you don’t want to strangle them.”
Bee did as she was asked with an unsure look, her grip now uncontrolled and awkward.
“No, no let me show you,” Sylvie said, walking up behind Bee and encircling her middle so she could move her hands into position, her fingers lingering on the other woman's silky skin.
“Good, now it's time to learn how to use them. It’s all about the stance, just like fighting,” she explained, moving her hands to Bee’s hips to demonstrate. “They should be an extension of your arm, a tool, just like the staff. You need to get closer though, get into their space so you can overwhelm them quickly.”
“Close, got it,” Bee whispered.
Her heart burst as she took in their position, only now realising the implications. She was too caught up in making sure Bee understood the basic concepts of how to wield the blade that she hardly noticed until it was too late.
This wasn’t something she could have no matter how much she wanted it. She knew she promised herself that she would try to live her life in a way that made her happy, but the possibility of ruining her friendship with Bee terrified her to her very core.
Trying to break the tension, she suggested, “How about we give it a go, see if you can beat me. I won’t use a weapon for now.”
She unwound herself from Bee unwillingly, making room between them and getting into a fighting stance.
“Ahh, okay,” Bee replied after a moment too long.
“Ready?”
A competitive glint shone in Bee’s eyes. “Let’s do it.”
“That’s the spirit.”
The two women circled each other, both waiting for the other to make the first move. Eyes locked, the only noise to be heard aside from their breathing was the quiet sound of their practical boots against the padded ground of the training area.
Bee rushed in quickly, closing the space between them as she slashed her dagger in a wide arch. Sylvie dodged the attack, light on her feet. They went like this for a few minutes–Bee striking and Sylvie dodging, but neither getting close enough to touch.
Bee slowed down for a moment, appearing to rethink her plan. Sylvie watched her, waiting for her to attack. As she waited, she noticed a bead of sweat making a path down her neck and falling onto the soft curves of her breasts.
In the split second that Sylvie was distracted, Bee lunged, closing in on her in an instant. The two are only a breath apart. In an impressive move, Bee blocked her instinctive punch and placed the blunt knife-edge of her dagger to the thin skin of Sylvie’s neck.
Her pupils dilated as she took in the other woman, standing over her confidently, grip tight on the blade. The blade dug in with every rise and fall of her chest as she panted harshly, both from the effort and from the position.
She stood frozen staring at Bee, unable to move and break the moment.
Bee seemed just as trapped in that place just as she was, eyes locked with her as she regained her breath.
The light of the room reflected off the metal, its cold edge still pressed into her as she finally made room between them, missing the closeness immediately.
She smirked, but the effect was lost by her flustered blush. “See, I told you I was a good teacher.”
Bee threw a cheeky smile over her shoulder as she walked over to her water bottle. “Mmm, maybe I’m just a quick learner.”
“Bit of both maybe.”
----
It was weeks later, and they continued to share a bed every night. They never spoke about it, but at the end of each day, they would go back to Bee’s room, taking turns in the bath, often washing each other’s hair with gentle fingers. Climbing into fuzzy pyjamas soft with wear and snuggling close together. Bee’s arms twined around Sylvie’s middle, pulling her close and flush to her.
Sylvie often lies awake in that position, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Wondering when this too, was going to be snatched away from her. But it never came, Bee’s smiles grew fonder every day as they chatted aimlessly, still asking each other dumb questions and sharing memories.
Sylvie had started to recover the other women’s memories, uncurling them from their tight grasp in the foggy folds of her brain. The moments of Bee’s life before the TVA solidified as memories once again and the clouds of brainwashing cleared every day.
It changed Bee in subtle ways. She was still the same person, but she seemed more sure of herself and of who she was. She now answered Sylvie’s incessant questions confidently, knowing what her favourite song or number was. It became their thing after a while, Sylvie still wanting to know everything about the other woman who interested her endlessly. Who made her feel not alone every day. Like she had someone, who even the end of the world couldn’t take from her. A partner to live out the rest of her life with.
She laid there, warmth surrounding her, seeping into her very soul. She had to tell her how she felt about her, how she liked the woman so much, it felt like her heart was going to burst. How she wished she could kiss her every time she saw her in the sun, her dark skin glowing gold and her soft hair shining. She wanted to be able to share the bath with her, instead of taking turns. Mostly, she wanted to kiss her good morning every day.
She had to tell her before she lost her courage.
She moved in from Bee’s hold, trying to wake the other women gently so she didn’t startle her.
“Bee. Bee, honey, wake up.”
Bee woke up with a small groan. “Hmm Sylvie? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, I just wanted to tell you something.”
Bee quirked an eyebrow. “In the middle of the night?”
“Yes.”
At the seriousness of her tone, Bee sat up, giving her all of her attention. “Ok, what is it?”
Sylvie's heart warmed at how accepting Bee was, to hear her out in the middle of the night with no explanation. She tried to steel her nerves, her hands shaking slightly as thoughts of what could go wrong sped through her brain.
She didn’t want to give this up but she couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“I like you,” she breathed, her body cringing involuntarily as soon as she said it, anticipating the rejection.
Bee smiled widely as joy lit up in her eyes. “I like you, too.”
A small amount of tension left her shoulders. Even if Bee didn’t like her the same way, it was still reassuring that the woman thought of her as a friend.
She shook her head before clarifying, “No like romantically, I like you as more than a friend.”
“I know, I like you too,” Bee said simply, as if this was a known fact.
“You knew?” she choked out, still not processing that the woman actually liked her back.
Bee shot her a look of fond exasperation. “Babe, we have been sharing a bed for weeks, and you won’t let me wash my own hair.”
Sylvie’s cheeks flamed hotly at the words, not used to being seen through so clearly by someone else. She wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t have the chance to get close to many people or if Bee just knew her especially well. Or maybe she was just very obvious in her affection. Probably the latter if she were being honest with herself.
“I-uh, I like your hair,” she defended lamely.
“Clearly.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was waiting for you to figure it out. I know you don’t have much experience with expressing your feelings, so I was being patient.”
The very last of the tension in her body melted as Bee leaned forward to tuck a few stray strands of hair out her face. Her fingers lingering on her still flaming hot cheeks, the coolness of them a nice contrast.
“You’re right, I don’t have much experience but I’m learning. Thanks to you, mainly,” she confessed, thinking about how much she had opened up since meeting the other woman. “You never made me feel weak when I wasn’t ok, and you accept me for who I am. You never asked me to change.”
“I would never ask you to change, you're perfect. Perfect for me.”
Sylvie’s eyes glistened at the words, suddenly overcome with the affection and the love she was being shown. She knew the Bee didn’t want her to change; it was evident in her actions but hearing it said so simply cemented the fact. Made her believe it.
She was not used to someone not wanting her to change, not seeing her as a weapon that could be useful or someone who needed to change themselves before they could ever be loved. It was overwhelming, really.
She wanted nothing more than to wrap the woman in her arms, shower her with praise and never let go.
“So are you. I knew that from the moment I enchanted you. Your mind was so bright, full of such kindness and warmth and yet so brave. So willing to sacrifice yourself for others. Which I would never let you do of course. But it’s beautiful. You’re beautiful,” she rambled, tears flowing freely now, blurring her vision of Bee’s face that was illuminated by the shining city outside.
“I wish you could see yourself the way I do, you aren’t a villain, I knew that from the beginning. I think you’re a variant because you were supposed to make others suffer and yet you care so much.” Bee leaned forward to bring their foreheads together. “You’ve been through things I couldn’t even imagine and yet you’re still here, surviving. And you didn’t let it break you, you’re still so loving and kind. You just needed someone to care about you, and I do, so so much,” she finished, voice quiet and soft as if the words were just for Sylvie.
Sylvie launched forward, drawing Bee into a tight hug, the air almost leaving her lungs at the force. She tucked her head into the woman’s neck, her cheek pressed against the soft skin there. She just needed a moment to pull herself together.
She knew that Bee wasn’t cruel enough to stop being her friend when she confessed her feelings, but she honestly didn’t expect this outcome. For the other woman to care about her just as much as she did. It was overwhelming. This feeling of love that flooded her, she wasn’t in love with Bee, not yet at least, but she did love her.
The brightness of her affection steeled her nerves as she moved to look into her eyes. Bee’s dark doe eyes meeting her own, squinted slightly from the force of her smile.
She looked happy.
At the realisation, she crashed their lips together, a startled sound leaving Bee from the suddenness of it. After a second, Bee kissed her back, weaving her hand into Sylvie’s thick blonde hair to pull her closer. Their bodies pressed close, Bee’s soft warmth melting into her.
Sylvie broke off the kiss with a smile and clambered on top of Bee, moving to bracket her hips with her strong thighs. Bee looked up at her in bewilderment but smirked as soon as she realised what she was doing. The other woman was the picture of perfection with her hair ruffled from Sylvie’s fingers and an oversized sleep shirt hanging low to show off her soft dark skin and the dips of her collarbone.
Sylvie savoured the sight for a second, drinking in every detail of the moment to commit to memory. She knew already that this would be a memory she would want to revisit.
In one motion she leaned down to capture her lips once more, tasting of mint and something she could only describe as distinctly Bee. A high keen left her mouth as Bee grabbed onto her hips with sure hands and grounded Sylvie down onto her.
Not one to be outdone, Sylvie kissed her way down Bee’s neck, nipping at her collarbone playfully before latching herself onto the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder. Redoubling her efforts when she heard Bee’s breath hitch, digging her blunt teeth in for a moment before admiring her handywork.
“I knew you’d be a biter,” Bee joked, breathless.
Sylvie smirked smugly, “Hmm, you love it.”
Bee stared up at her fondly, wearing a dreamy smile, pupils blown wide.
“I do,” Bee said, the tone of her voice a little too intense for the conversation.