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The problem with being back home after a Big Space Road Trip, Catra decides, is that there was just so much more for everyone to do.
Sure, it’s great to have dirt and soft grass under her feet again, to breathe air that actually smells different as she moves from one place to another, and she’d admit to missing even the eye-watering colours the sky could take on ever since the end of the war. Space travel got a little too monotonous at times, and the cold metal and hard lines of their insides still reminded her of way too many grim places for her to feel entirely comfortable sometimes.
But space travel also meant quiet, easy days spent with just-- friends. (Nope, she’s still not gonna be the one to call them the Best Friend Squad, though that doesn’t stop Bow from trying.) It meant days spent making plans and swapping stories and getting into trouble--mostly the fun kind--as they skipped between the stars, made contact with new planets. No busywork, no meetings, no realm-related business calling for everyone’s separate attention.
Everyone’s attention except Catra’s, at least.
Okay, so maybe it’s more that everybody else besides Catra has more to do, while Catra... finds herself with more time on her hands than she’s had in a long time. The Horde’s a thing of the past, and she’s no Force Captain or second-in-command of anything anymore.
And for all that Glimmer’s opened the doors of her stupidly large home to Catra like a guest (like she hasn’t been trying for years to kick them down), and Adora’s gentle invitations to come along with her to meet people, she can’t help feeling it’s a little too soon to show her face in front of the endless list of Bright Moon visitors coming to see the Queen and She-Ra for one thing or another. Especially those visitors whose towns and villages she might have helped turn to rubble.
Which leaves her, for the time being, sitting cross-legged in one of the castle gardens with Melog beside her, taking yet another deep breath in an interminable string of them and trying not to blow it out in a disgruntled raspberry while working through one of Perfuma’s meditation lessons.
And if the garden in question just happens to be the one that runs alongside the windows of the meeting hall Adora’s still in, letting someone keep a low profile among the bushes while keeping their eye on the proceedings-- well, that’s just a coincidence.
--Here seems very distracting. Melog yawns and makes a big, full-bodied stretch, toes curling into the grass. --Are you sure it is a help?
“Flowers said ‘a sunny spot’, ‘outside’, and ‘plenty of plants’,” Catra grumbles, opening her eyes for a moment to give them a Look. “This counts. And you’re not helping.”
Melog gives her a Look in a way she knows is meant to mirror her Look, but with an extra helping of Doubt that’s more Melog’s own. Catra determinedly ignores it.
Okay. Right. Starting over. Mindfulness time, round--whatever. Just focus on the stuff around you. Stop thinking about the other stuff. That’s what it boils down to, right?
Things around. Air. Leaves. Grass. Twiggy branches. Purple flowers. Nice sun, no clouds. Good nap kind of weather. There’s a bug on that twig. Wonder what they’re talking about in there. At least Adora’s been smiling. Must be going well. She looks really good when she-- nope. Focus. Come on!
Melog sneezes and shakes their head. Catra groans out loud, kicking her legs out and flopping sideways on the grass.
--She is looking tired.
“She’s been there for like three hours,” Catra grumbles into a handful of weeds. Looks like whoever did the mostly immaculate landscaping missed a spot. “What is with these guys and just talking for ages? You could fit a dozen mission briefings into that time.”
--She should not be there so long. She should be outside to play. With us.
“Yeah, well, it’s probably not gonna happen anytime soon. There’s a whole line of people waiting to see She-Ra. And then after that, there’s probably another line of people she’s gotta go see, or something like that. Who knows.”
Melog’s head tilts, watching her. --You are not happy about this.
Catra takes a moment, hears Perfuma in the back of her head cheerfully reminding her to use her words to articulate Feelings out loud, even if it’s just to her alien cat partner, which even so still sometimes feels harder than swimming to Salineas and back (and way less appealing).
“...not really. But it’s-- I’m not not happy either. I mean, I’m trying to not-- ughh.” She rolls on her back and waves a hand in the air. “It’s messy.”
--You are messy, Melog chirps.
Catra snorts, booping their nose with the back of a finger. “Wow. Thanks.”
--But usually, you are less messy when she sees you.
“Look, I don’t need her to be not-messy. If I even was. Which I’m not. I’m fine, I’m just bored .“
Melog’s left ear twitches once. Twice. --You are also less bored when Adora sees you.
“Yeah, well, Adora can’t see-- us right now, okay? She’s busy seeing other people about other things, and that is Okay, and I am totally cool with it, because that’s how Healthy Thoughts work.” She sits up, firmly crosses her legs again, and glares at Melog, tail flicking. “And I don’t need her to be not-bored either. In fact, I’m gonna go and do something more productive than--”
Two pairs of ears perk up at the muffled scraping of chair legs against stone. Both Melog and Catra turn to look at the windows in time to see the figures inside standing up, moving round the table and talking in smaller groups. To one side, Glimmer’s with Adora, talking about something that makes Adora crack a broad, doofy smile.
Melog chirps longingly. Catra makes a sound that is definitely nowhere near the same thing--because that would be embarrassing--catches herself in the middle of it, and sighs.
--I think it is a good time to be seen, says Melog.
“Probably not. These things always drag on, even after they’re-- hey! Don’t you even--! Melog! Get back here!” Catra hisses, reaching out to grab and just missing their tail as they slink past her.
===
Adora stretches her legs out under the table, careful not to be too obvious in her movement. She’s not used to so much sitting around, but all the meetings are definitely preferable to the constant fighting from before.
At least no one will actually die of boredom, she thinks, and hides a smile.
The meetings aren’t so bad, really. Most of these days they were with delegations from other kingdoms, coordinating projects and relief efforts. The magic that she’d unleashed from the Heart had grown flowers and plants, but hadn’t restored buildings and other structures damaged or destroyed in the war.
Adora’s own role in these meetings, thankfully, is usually not about She-ra. She is there as protection for Glimmer, not that anyone really expects trouble. And she’s there for her own ability to plan. Turns out that logistics are actually not that different from battle strategy, and with a little less urgency driving them her plans often turn out better than “fly straight through an armada of enemy ships.”
(No, the team still hasn’t let her forget that one.)
Looking around the table at the smiling, familiar faces around her, Adora feels a fondness warm her chest, fill her to the brim with energy -- she knows, if she just reached out her hand, that the sword be right there for her. Yes, these meetings are work, less exciting than their travels restoring magic to the universe. But Etheria is home. She almost died to save it. Would have died to save it, not happily and not without regrets, but knowing that it was the right thing to do, knowing that Etheria and the people on it were worth it. That creates a certain amount of responsibility, Adora figures. She can’t exactly turn her back on it now, just because her legs are falling asleep.
(Catra tries to tell her that she’s done more than her fair share of things, that she could let people figure out how to get on with living since Adora saved them all, but it’s hard, it’s so hard to remember that when she knows that she could be helping. Knows that things will be easier on everyone if she pitches in, knows that she is more than capable of doing it, knows that not helping leaves her with a weight in her chest that she can’t seem to shake.)
(And it’s nice, sometimes. To know that Adora is just as needed as She-ra was.)
But it’s hard to concentrate on all that when her mind sticks on one thought, and the warmth in her chest seems to multiply: Catra.
Adora’s not sure she has the right words for Catra -- there are many things that she’s still learning about how Etheria works, things the Horde would never have bothered teaching her -- but she knows that she loves her. That part’s easy.
(“How’s your… special friend doing?” Mermista had asked when they returned from their trip, and once Adora had ascertained that she did mean Catra, had wandered away contemplating the phrase. Catra is special to her, and Catra is her friend. It had seemed to fit.
Until she said it in front of Netossa, who proceeded to lose her shit.)
Glancing around the table again, Adora makes sure that the meeting is drawing to a close, that business has given ways to small talk and to pleasantries, and allows her mind to continue to wander, wondering what Catra’s doing right now. It doesn’t seem like such a bad thing, to have this time apart after being squished together on Mara’s ship for so long. Hopefully it gives them both time to settle into Bright Moon at their own pace, to find all the places that they fit.
She worries that Catra will look at Bright Moon and Glimmer and Bow and think that she’s only here because of Adora. She never wants Catra to feel like she’s living in her shadow again.
Her attention is grabbed by the folks next to her starting to stand, Adora following suit just a beat afterward. Smiling, she exchanges a few words with some folks who walk by, returning “nice to meet you”s and “see you later”s. As folks start to head out the door, she feels a jab in her side and looks at where Glimmer is smirking at her.
“At least one of us can start nodding off in these things,” she whispers, and Adora chuckles nervously.
“I wasn’t sleeping,” she objects. “I was just-”
“Distracted?” Glimmer suggests, and Adora is only saved by answering from a sudden murmur of voices as the crowd at the door pauses.
“What is that?” One of the dignitaries is staring at the window, and they turn to see Melog up on their hind legs, peering into the window. They meow once and Adora starts to step toward the window.
“They’re uh-” How does she explain a telepathic magic cat who gave them a huge clue toward defeating Horde Prime? “They’re uh- they’re for me.” Movement catches her eyes and she focuses past Melog for a moment. Was that a familiar tail tip that just went out of sight behind some bushes?
She opens the window.
===
While it sounded cool, and was pretty great most of the time, the thing about being the weirdly bonded partner of a telepathic magic cat who could make things invisible when they wanted to was the When They Wanted To part, which was awesome when it was also When Catra Wanted Them To, except when it wasn’t, which was of course always at the worst possible time.
“Melog!! They’re gonna see you!!” Catra hisses again from behind the increasingly awkward shrubbery.
Melog glances over at her, glances back at the window, and paws at it again.
--And if you follow, she will see you too, Melog meows matter-of-factly.
“That’s not the point--!” Screaming, bad. Breathing, good. Screaming internally, not so bad. Catra tries to regroup. “There’s like fifty other people in there! You’re gonna freak out someone showing up like--”
Crap, Adora’s noticed. Of course Adora’s noticed, everybody in there’s noticed, who the heck wouldn’t notice something like that!?
Adora’s opening the window and Catra crouches back down and thinks very hard about being invisible. (A second passes. Hand check. Still not invisible. Why did she pick the smallest, most isolated bunch of bushes out of the half dozen other ones around? Right, because it was the one with the best view of the hall. Damn it.)
There’s a familiar tug of magic Catra can feel, and she looks over through a gap between the leaves to see Melog promptly shapeshifting into Small Melog, before hopping up onto the windowsill and looking up at Adora, tail waving expectantly.
--There. Much less to see now.
Catra drags a palm over her face. “That is not what I meant and you know it,” she growls (calmly, neutrally, not at all frantically).
===
“Hi Melog,” Adora says, holding a hand out to the cat. “Is everything-”
Melog cuts off her concern by rubbing their cheek against her hand, a purr starting to rumble through their throat, and Adora can’t help but giggle. She rubs her other hand over their head, then turns back to the room, where a few people -- including Glimmer, she notes -- are watching curiously.
“Cats,” she shrugs. “When they want attention, they don’t hesitate to ask.” She holds a smile until she sees most people return it with a nod, but there’s a little knot of anticipation in her stomach. Melog isn’t always with Catra, but usually when Melog seeks her out, Catra isn’t far behind.
The air shivers behind her, and Melog’s warmth leaves her hand, and Adora turns back in time to see Melog, in smaller form, jump into place on the windowsill, eyes still fixed on her.
“Aww.” She holds her hands out to them. They’re so cute!
When Melog doesn’t shy away, Adora carefully picks them up and cradles them against her, grinning again as they rub their cheek against hers now, purring into her ear. She takes a moment to just close her eyes and relax, running a hand down Melog’s back to return the affection.
Purring has always made her feel better. She’s never stopped to think why.
But after a moment -- when she hears people starting to leave again -- Adora opens her eyes and resumes looking out the window, scanning the surroundings more carefully.
Where are you, Catra?
===
--This is very nice, Melog purrs. --I do not understand why you do not come here too.
Catra will admit she’s still not entirely sure how the whole magic link thing works between her and Melog, how much they can make out about what she’s thinking and feeling. Sure, in a way it’s like they’re an extension of her, like a limb or a sense she’s never thought about (there’s no need for words when they go invisible at the sight of danger, or when she’s feeling pretty mixed up and finds a soft headbutt and the feel of warm fur against hers, or when they go red and snarling on the outside just as she does on the inside.)
But on the other hand, even though Catra is thinking very hard about yanking at those purple alien ears right now, Melog just wiggles further into Adora’s arms in a nice chill ball of purple and blue, bumping at her chin and nuzzling in a way that is totally just infuriating and not at all related to what Catra would like to be doing.
I don’t wanna go out there. It’s gonna be awkward. Adora’ll have to do the whole “Hey, this is Catra, she’s cool now and sorry about the time she tried to take over Etheria,” before any yelling or punching happens. Ugghh-- just come on over! She can’t help the muffled whine.
===
Melog glances over at the same bush Adora had seen that movement, and a moment later there’s a small chirp from that direction and Adora smirks. Got her.
Before she can do more than that, though, she feels a light touch on her arm as Glimmer steps up next to her. “Nothing else today really needs you there,” she admits quietly. “I can get Bow to play bodyguard.”
“And you prefer his company over mine,” Adora teases, pleased when Glimmer shoves an elbow into her side.
Her lips are curved into a smile, however. “Definitely. Especially when the other option is you moping. Now go take care of your cat.”
“Thanks,” Adora says, hoping Glimmer knows how much she means it, the gratitude distracting her for a moment until the whole sentence sinks in. “But Melog’s not mine.”
Glimmer stares at her for a moment, shaking her head as magic gathers around her. “I know,” she deadpans.
Adora looks down at Melog, picturing clearly what she’s about to do before vaulting over the windowsill and landing in the grass outside. Glimmer’s magic shimmers next to her once more, the queen teleporting next to her just long enough to sigh, “The door, Adora?” before teleporting off to wherever she’s next needed.
Leaving Adora to laugh in the sunshine. Well, it’s what she wanted, so why take the long way around? Why give Catra a chance to escape?
Why let Catra see her walk away, when Adora is really just heading straight for her?
===
Even now, hearing Adora’s laughter makes Catra feel something like warm bubbles up inside her. It’s annoying. (Well. Maybe only a little. Maybe not in the least. Maybe the very opposite of it.)
But when Adora hones in on Catra’s hiding spot with that look on her face, the bubbles dissipate into something more like a little thrill, and Catra can’t help a wry grin. So Adora thinks she’s got her pinned, huh?
Okay, fine. How about this time, Melog?
This time, the familiar magic obligingly slides along her fur like a sleeve, and Catra smirks as she gets to her feet.
===
Adora doesn’t know the game that they’re playing until she actually rounds the bush to find Catra’s hiding spot empty. But it was definitely her hiding spot: Adora can see the way the grass is bent but starting to recover, knows that someone was here recently but only just moved.
Someone who recently left this isolated bush without being seen, despite no other cover near enough for sneaking off.
Adora glances down at Melog, still purring away, and knows exactly what has happened.
“So it’s two against one, is it?” she announces, projecting her voice to be heard in the small area. While it’s possible that Melog cloaked Catra so she could run away, Adora quickly dismisses the idea. Not with Melog still purring like this, not with the way they’d come pawing at the window earlier.
No, Catra’s still here.
Adora takes a few steps away from the bush, scans the area for anyone else who might see this, and then stands still, closing her eyes. It’s simple to fall into an easy, centered sort of calm, similar to what she finds when she wants to transform into She-ra. She can feel the magic all around her, can hear the wind and birdsong so much more clearly.
She’s not going to give Catra the pleasure of watching her blindly stumble around after her. And maybe, just maybe, she’ll have a hint of where Catra is coming from.
Maybe she’ll be able to get the drop on her.
===
Catra doesn’t reply, for obvious reasons. But as she slinks around, feeling out the ground under her toes-- Bright Moon paving’s less of a giveaway than the well-kept but tufty grass, but paving makes for a little more predictable path, gotta look out for loose gravel too-- she takes a moment to circle around Adora, looking her over and thinking.
She saunters behind a shrub a few feet to Adora’s right and flicks a hand through the leaves, ducking away as Adora turns her head toward the noise, but doesn’t pursue it.
Circle round, half-clockwise. A fancy garden pillar, this time; the scrape of a claw, just for a second, before she darts away from it too.
“You aren’t that sloppy,” she hears Adora call out, and smiles.
“I dunno. Maybe I’m all out of practice.” With another pillar between her and Adora’s line of sight, Catra tugs at a vine hanging in great overgrown loops, sending it swaying gently overhead. “All that space travel, you know? Got all lazy in between.”
===
Adora’s eyes are only just opened, brow furrowed as she tracks Catra’s sounds, reconstructing the path she thinks Catra is taking from place to place, distraction to distraction.
She knows Catra is trying to lure her out, but Adora’s pretty sure she has more patience than Catra. She doesn’t have to let herself get lured into an ambush.
(The ambush is coming regardless, she knows, but she can be prepared.)
However, with Melog’s purr a continued rumble against her chest, she does allow herself a few steps in the direction that Catra is taking, farther away from the palace. It doesn’t hurt to be a little more out of sight. It would definitely save her the hassle of someone wondering why Adora is wandering around alone and coming to check in on her.
Having an invisible Catra pounce on her in front of some guardsman is not how Adora would like to spend the afternoon. Or the rest of the week, clearing up that misunderstanding.
“You just like pretending to be lazy,” Adora calls out, unable to resist answering even if it means she can’t listen as closely. You just like to pretend you don’t care.
====
“Hey, I resent that accusation,” Catra mock-gasps and even puts a hand on her chest, then remembers she’s invisible. Chuckling, she weaves behind a trellis covered with weirdly energetic climbers, their flowers a riot of colours. Maybe Perfuma had gotten a little carried away last time she was here. “I’ll have you know I only bring genuine, certified lazy to the table.”
That’s it, Adora. Just a little more-- eh, that’s a good enough angle. They’re out of sight of the big windows of the meeting hall, with enough of the garden’s trees and decorative stuff in the way. Catra makes one more round around her before stopping, tail swaying back and forth as she considers the situation.
Getting behind Adora’s a little cliche. How about a forward assault?
A grin, a step, another-- a quick heads up, Melog, just in case--and Catra leaps.
==
Adora’s on full alert as the windows go out of view, so that she notices as soon as Melog’s purr fades away, notices the slight twist of their body as they push out of her arms and land next to her. And despite the soft mew that they give her, the one they use when trying to coax extra food out of the nearest person, Adora’s deadset on ignoring them.
If Melog’s there, she’s not going to tackle me into them-- which eliminates a couple of approaches. She’s honestly paying slightly more attention to what’s behind her, assuming that Catra will lead her in one direction and then approach from another.
Which all means that when there’s a small scrape of gravel in front of her, Adora’s actually turning back towards where Catra must be, with just enough time to get her arms up as Melog’s cloaking dissipates to show Catra already in mid-leap towards her.
But Adora’s not putting her arms up to block Catra -- her arms are open wide, and as Catra slams into her, Adora staggers backwards while locking her arms around Catra, hands clasped together behind her back. And for a moment, just a moment, she thinks she’s pulled it off before she feels the last of her balance evaporate and they’re going over backwards.
“Whoa-!”
She lands on her back in the grass, arms still firmly holding onto Catra, who at least had to come with her. Adora grins up at Catra.
“Got you.” Because everyone knows that part of winning is declaring your victory first.
===
“Really?” Catra smirks and raises an eyebrow down at Adora, her hands giving Adora’s shoulders a firm squeeze. She leans in just enough to bump their foreheads together, noses barely touching. “‘Cause from where I’m sitting, looks like you’re the one who’s been got.”
Adora closes her eyes and leans just into the contact, affection widening her smile but not banishing the underlying smirk. “Two against one and invisibility? Against those odds, I totally got you.” She unclasps her hands but doesn’t move them much, palms now laying flat against Catra’s sides. An idea nudges the back of her mind, but she ignores it. For now.
“Hey, it’s a totally even match. More like two against two. Me and Melog up against you and the mighty She-Ra.” Catra closes her own eyes, taking a moment to feel the warmth from the places where they’re pressed against each other. There’s a steady rumble behind her smile as she shuffles her knees to bracket Adora’s hips, loosely keeping her in place. “I’d say it’s pretty fair,” she adds, light and teasing.
(It still fills her with wonder sometimes, the two of them being like this. That it’s okay for them to be like this, that Catra knows for sure Adora wants things like this too.)
Adora relaxes back into the grass, just enough to glance around the area. “She-Ra? I don’t see her anywhere.” That idea is still nagging at her, but Catra’s purr encourages Adora’s hand to slide upwards to the back of her neck, fingertips just into her hairline. She gently tugs Catra down so that their foreheads are pressed together again. “It’s just me,” she says quietly.
And then she surges up and to the right, using that hand to cradle Catra’s neck and head so as not to give her whiplash, pushing up with her hips and rotating so that it’s Catra’s turn to land on her back in the grass with a yelp.
“Wh-- Hey!!”
With the momentum of the turn still behind her, she presses a quick kiss to Catra’s forehead as she’s half puffed up and sputtering. She’s having fun with this, but she’s missed Catra.
(They had the morning together but c’mon, those meetings felt like forever.)
Oh.That knocks all the thoughts out of Catra’s head for a second. There’s a warm flush on her cheeks as she looks up at Adora’s soft smile.
And then Catra grabs those stupid cheeks with one hand and squishes them, grinning.
“Wow. Well played, Adora.” And she’d just been getting nice and comfortable too, thinking how great it’d be to spend a couple minutes just curled up on Adora like that, but no, it was a trap.
Adora laughs and relents, collapsing onto the grass next to Catra. Her hand is still under Catra’s neck, and she wiggles her fingertips. An invitation for Catra to move off of them, whether by coming in closer or by lifting her head enough to free them.
“That’s right, master tactician here,” Adora teases. But she’s closing her eyes and feeling the sun on her skin and not much could be better than this.
With an overly dramatic sigh, Catra decides on making a pillow of Adora’s upper arm, rolling over to drape her own arm over Adora’s chest. She tucks her legs up between the two of them, her tail curling round her feet.
“Uh huh. Shouldn’t you be back there, master tactician?” Catra pokes at Adora’s nose, gently. “Don’t tell me Miss Goody Two Shoes is actually playing hooky?”
Adora puffs up her chest and drops her voice into a more formal tone. “I’ll have you know the queen herself gave me the rest of the day off,” she says, before relaxing again and turning her face to grin at Catra. “You see, there was this large cat at the window…”
Catra rolls her eyes and looks off to the side, humphing. “Yeah, that was their idea, not mine. I was just-- minding my own business! Passing by, that’s all.”
From Adora’s other side, Melog, still travel-sized, pads over and tucks themself into the crook of Adora’s free arm, purring contentedly. -- And it was a very good idea.
Shut up, Catra thinks back, with a mental huff she doesn’t really mean (much).
“Minding your own business… in a bush,” Adora deadpans in response. Her arm flexes underneath Catra’s cheek as she curls her arm up to stroke Catra’s hair. She’s not attempting to call out the lurking; while she has her doubts about Catra’s day just casually bringing her to that one part of the garden, it seems like a bad time to bring it up. She thinks -- she hopes -- that if there is something amiss, Catra will just tell her. They should have that trust.
But she can tease her about hiding, just a little.
“What? It was a quiet place. And Perfuma’s been going on about, ‘you should try looking around for a spot with plants and fresh air and good vibes to get in touch with’, blah blah and whatnot,” Catra grumbles, leaning into the petting despite herself. Her upright ear flicks back and forth, wavering between the itch of embarrassment and the relaxing effect of Adora’s fingers.
“And I was just gonna keep a low profile.” She hesitates just a moment, then adds, a little more uncertainty in her voice, “Didn’t wanna spook any of the visitors.”
Sorry, Melog, Adora thinks as she moves, pausing to pet them once before rolling onto her side to face Catra. “Well, Perfuma’s a little biased as to what creates good vibes,” she says with a quiet smile. Not that she wasn’t enjoying the grass and the sun. “But she’s right a lot of the time.” Her fingers sneak back into Catra’s hair to scratch lightly at her scalp.
“And I don’t think you’d spook anyone. We all came back from the road trip in one piece,” she teases. “If you wanted to take us out, what better opportunity would you get?”
Catra snorts. “Please. It’d be too obvious. If I offed you guys in space, they’d never let me back to rule the planet--” Oh yeah, that’s a good spot.Her toes wiggle in the grass. “--but maybe I’ve got-- uh, sneakier plans than that. Maybe I’m just making you guys think we’re friends just so I can-- you know--- evil Horde Scum shenanigans, something.”
It’s a little harder to think about creative hypothetical evil plans--several of which Catra could and would totally come up with--when each drag of Adora’s fingers keeps tugging brief purrs out to interrupt Catra’s train of thought. She gives up for the moment, snuggling further into Adora’s side, the arm over Adora’s chest moving to hug her firmly round her stomach. The annoying, anxious feeling in her brain loosens up a bit as she rumbles with her face half-buried in Adora’s shoulder.
(She knows--she’s been working on knowing it, anyway--that there’s a place for her here, and not just with Adora. But she also knows not everybody’s gonna like her being around, even with everything Adora’s been doing to try and change their minds. Not that Catra cares if they do, but. It’s just easier to keep out of sight sometimes.)
Adora doesn’t bother to respond to Catra’s distracted objections. She just keeps the scratching going, considering the soothing effect it’s having. She and Catra have had similar conversations about how other people will react to her in the past, so she knows that pushing too much usually upsets Catra. And Adora will reassure her as much and as often as she needs; the fear is not something that will go away easily or overnight, and that’s okay.
She thinks about asking what Catra wants to do for the rest of the day, but not just yet. She wants to stay here like this for a little bit longer. It’s such a far cry from anything she could’ve imagined in the Fright Zone, and sometimes she likes to stop and savor it.
Moments like this: the two of them curled into and around each other, the warmth of their shared space and the sun. Bird song, the soft trickle of water from a fountain farther on in the garden. Catra’s purr rumbling through her own chest, so familiar and so welcome, lulling her into an easy trance.
She never could have imagined.
===
They stay like that a good, long while.
Catra’s not too sure how much time rolls by, or when she starts dozing herself, curled up in Adora’s arms and listening to the familiar rhythm of her heartbeat.
At some point a trill from some bird touches a note that makes her ear twitch. She glances up to the sky, just barely moving her head from the pillow she’s made of Adora’s shoulder. Notes the way the sun’s jumped ahead from where it was before.
And no one’s come looking for Adora yet. She turns her eyes back down to Adora’s sleeping face just inches from hers, snoring softly, the tired lines from the meeting room now smoothed out a little more from her brow and under her eyes.
Catra smiles. Guess I owe Sparkles another favor.
Still, as much as she hates the idea and Adora’s probably going to too, it’s probably time for them to move. Judging by how Adora’s starting to pink up more on one cheek than the other, anyway.
===
“...’dora. Adora?”
A quiet voice calls Adora to wakefulness. For years, as a cadet, she was used to being on her feet before really being awake, and there’s a jolt in her chest that makes her eyes fly open. The only reason she isn’t immediately jostling upright is the extreme lack of urgency in Catra’s voice.
That, and the open, soft smile that Catra is wearing, one that Adora’s seen mostly since they escaped from Horde Prime’s ship. One that she likes very much.
“Hey, Adora.” Catra murmurs. Then, with a touch more teasing in her voice, “Maybe we should take this inside, before you end up toasting like the last time, yeah?”
“Don’t remind me,” she grumbles. The teasing from the others had gotten tired very quickly, though at least the “Adora passes out outside long enough to get sunburn” incident had reminded the others that she should get a little more time off.
Catra grins at her, but doesn’t add any more insult to that injury (this time), rolling off Adora and languidly stretching out on the grass with a yawn. Melog--back to their usual size, and curled up at their feet-- lifts their head to look at the both of them, ears flicking.
Stretching her arms and legs out, Adora sighs. “Okay, okay. I got this.” And she sits upright without using her arms to push off the ground. Hey, a little bit of exercise always helps when one first wakes up.
“Showoff.” There’s a fond eyeroll in her tone. Catra props herself up on an elbow and nudges at the grass stains on Adora’s butt with her toes. “Why do you wear those? They get dirty no matter what you do, let alone rolling around out here.”
Adora plucks at the material of her pants, then smoothes down her shirt. “Gotta be formal, I guess.” The clothes are nice, but she wears a lot more white and gold when doing these sorts of diplomatic meetings. Thankfully not as much as She-Ra does, but just enough to remind people who else she is. As if anyone would really forget, she thinks with a snort.
“It washes out, at least. And hey,” she looks back to Catra with a grin. “It’s a good excuse to go change into something more comfortable.”
That gets a raised eyebrow. Catra’s tail waves in slow, thoughtful curves, a smirk growing on her face. After a moment, she pushes herself up and slips an arm over Adora’s shoulders, pulling her closer while Catra leans in near enough for her breath--and for just a second, her lips--to ghost over Adora’s ear.
“If you’re taking suggestions for those,” she purrs, low and deliberate. Her other hand reaches up to trace a claw over the line of Adora’s collarbone, light and oh-so-careful not to snag the fabric clothing it. “I’ve got an idea or two.”
What Catra’s doing feels nice, and Adora bits her lip on a giggle when lips brush her ear. It’s really nice to be together like this, just right up next to each other without anyone trying to pull them apart.
(No matter how many fake grossed out noises Glimmer may make -- Adora’s seen her with Bow.)
She turns to smile at Catra, and that’s when she notices the smirk and the twitch in the very tip of her tail. “Wait a minute,” she says, dragging out the first syllable. “Are you flirting with me?”
“...Maaaaybe.” Catra drags it out like Adora does, but still totally smooth and suave. Without even the smallest glance aside. Or the least suspicious tinge of color on her cheeks. Or the teeniest wrinkling of her brow in a possible struggle, say, to keep her smile from leaving The Cool, Confident Zone to float into The Dork Zone at the consciousness that this is a thing they’re doing (can, in fact, just do whenever the heck they like.)
Yup. Definitely none of those things.
She clears her throat and locks eyes with Adora dead-on, bringing their faces nose to nose. “So what if I am? What’re you gonna do about it?” she adds, with a note of challenge.
Adora meets that gaze squarely, but only holds it for a second before dropping her eyes to Catra’s lips. “Hmm.” A small note from the back of her throat as she cocks her head to one side, just enough to clear noses if they were to kiss right now.
If.
Part of her really wants to rise to the challenge, the same way she’d reacted to the earlier cloaking by stalking Catra in return. Part of her wants to tread carefully, make sure that she isn’t going to somehow hurt Catra. It seems a little mean to tease too much, even if a darted glance at Melog shows the cat still totally at ease at their feet.
Looking back at Catra, Adora loses the self control, and her cockiness fades into a genuine smile, her shoulders relaxing as she just tries to take in the moment. “Flirt back, probably.”
Oh for-- come on, Adora, that’s just unfair, Catra thinks, feeling the heat creep up from her cheeks to her ears. Adora’s supposed to be playing along, or flustering and sputtering, not just watching Catra with that stupid-looking expression full of so much warmth and softness and--
(love, she can say it, and it’s for her)
--she can’t help the snorting laugh as she leans in to bump foreheads with Adora, closing her eyes for a moment. It’s almost too bright, and she’s seen a lot of blindingly shiny things in the last couple of years. This one’s the best, though.
“Well, if this is you already trying,” Catra murmurs, trying to sound taunting. It’s in there somewhere, under all the affection overflowing. “It’s definitely not working. At all.”
Adora breathes a laugh and brushes her fingertips over Catra’s cheek. She can hear the taunt under the affection, but she also knows that taunting is part of the affection. It’s a real advantage sometimes, having known Catra for so long. “I wasn’t trying. Not yet.”
She pauses for a moment, a beat of quiet where she’s so aware of the touch of foreheads, of the whisper of Catra’s breath against her face. And, well, you know how Adora’s plans usually go. Subtlety is not always her strong point. Her fingertips trail down from Catra’s cheek to her neck and then come to rest on her shoulder, and Adora leans back so she can better look into Catra’s eyes.
Damn the flirting, full speed ahead.
“Can I kiss you?” she asks quietly.
Catra’s hand, the one that isn’t now drawing slow circles over Adora’s collarbone, lifts to cup the side of Adora’s face as Catra simply smiles back at her, one eyebrow faintly raised in a kind of incredulousness. (The kind that might say, are you for real? Or, can you believe we’re here? or other things, warm and deep in her heart, that she can’t put words to right now.)
“Yeah, you idiot,” she says instead, just as soft.
Adora huffs another laugh at Catra’s response; she’ll take being called an idiot if it means making sure that Catra is always comfortable. It’s important, and not something that she’s willing to risk.
However, with permission granted, Adora leans into Catra’s hand for a moment with her eyes closed. Settling her hands on Catra’s waist, she leans in and kisses her.
(And she doesn’t turn into She-Ra.)
===
--Catra?
Nope, sorry. Real busy. Later.
--Catra.
A familiar paw nudges at her foot. Then a muzzle. It tickles in a way that Catra is very much decidedly ignoring in favor of sinking further into the softness of Adora’s mouth against hers, the slow shift of Adora’s hands over her fur, the warm--
-- Catraaaa.
Melog licks her foot. Catra yelps.
“Mmph-- What?!” She pulls back from Adora to turn her head and glare at Melog, seated placidly and washing a front paw.
--Petting is very nice. A cheerful flick of the ears. --But you wanted inside, for more petting?
“Ughh.” Catra groans, dragging a hand over her face. “Read the mood, Melog.”
--I do.
“Doesn’t look like it!”
Of course, all this conversation is very one-sided for Adora, who turns to watch this exchange, leaning into Catra a little as she starts to huff at her magic cat. Adora puts a hand on Catra’s back, hoping it’ll soothe her. There’s a part of her that would like to be annoyed by the interruption, but she trusts Melog’s judgment.
Plus, her irritation would probably just rile up Catra more.
“What do they want?” she asks. The series of meows and then Catra’s yelp means that Melog had been trying to get her attention for a bit; Catra’s current annoyance makes their request sound unimportant. She also doesn’t doubt that if Melog thought they needed to pay attention now, they wouldn’t hesitate to shove in between them.
“Just reminding us that we were gonna head back inside,” Catra grumbles, but there’s no heat to it, her head thumping onto Adora’s shoulder. She’s already relaxing into Adora again, her tail brushing against Adora’s arm in an unspoken it’s cool, it’s not really a big deal.
Melog flops belly up on the grass, paws curled in the air, looking at Adora and trilling.
Catra rolls her eyes, but there’s a wry smile twitching at the sides of her mouth. “Plus, they’re saying somebody hasn’t petted them enough today.” She pokes at Adora’s cheek with a curled finger. “Oh nooo, how terrible.”
Adora pretends to sigh at that, pushing Catra’s hand away so she’ll stop poking her. “My work here is never done,” she complains, but there’s no hesitation as she reaches out to pet Melog. She runs her hand down their side several times before scratching their cheek and under their chin, getting a pleased rumble out of them.
“We should go in,” Adora says as she leans back, lightly running her fingers over Catra’s cheek and under her chin in a teasing parody of how she pet Melog. (Catra rumbles in almost the same way. Adora wonders if she should tell her.) “To save my skin or my pants, or simply so our chaperone over there doesn’t try to herd us in no matter what.”
So that someone can find them if something goes wrong flashes through the back of her mind, and Adora’s shoulders tense before she wills them to relax. Nothing’s ever gone wrong at one of these diplomatic visits -- nothing major, at least -- and she doesn’t feel guilty for the so-called time off.
It’s just still hard to completely relax from a life spent ready to go at any moment, from the rebellion that had such high stakes, especially at the end. But! She is determined to relax, to spend some time focusing on what she wants. And right now, their space sounds pretty good to her.
Fingers circle Adora’s wrist, tugging at her hand and her train of thought. There’s a soft kiss pressed to her palm, and when Adora refocuses fully Catra’s looking at her, holding her gaze with eyes intent and glinting with-- mischief?
And then Catra licks her palm.
Adora yelps and pulls her hand away, rubbing her palm on her pants and glaring at Catra, who leaps to her feet, cackling.
“Gotcha.”
“Real funny,” Adora grumbles, standing without as much urgency, stretching her arms over her head and to each side. She doesn’t really mind (she was just surprised), but she knows that sometimes playing along is actually pretending to be mad. “I’m plotting my revenge right now.”
“Uh huh. What dastardly plans could be in store, I wonder,” Catra drawls, putting her hands behind her head and grinning over her shoulder at Adora. That faraway, gears-turning-in-overdrive tension’s gone from her for now, and that means Catra’s plan was a success. “Can’t wait to find out.”
Melog pads up to her side as Catra looks out over the rest of the garden and the railing circling it, to the sweeping view of Bright Moon’s shimmering lake and the woods and cliffs beyond. They used to hang out in high places like this, back in the Fright Zone, where no one came searching for them. Back when they looked down on a rough, ugly world they were gonna take on together, just the two of them, and screw anybody else.
Now, she thinks of Glimmer and Bow back in the castle, thinks of Scorpia and Perfuma and Entrapta out in their parts of the world. Thinks about how it’s not just Adora they’ll open their arms to, but Catra, too. Thinks of a room in a tower set aside, and Adora’s door open to her, despite everything.
Despite everything, there’s a place for her. (Under this stupidly bright, many-hued, beautiful sky.)
“Come on.” Turning back, Catra holds out her hand to Adora, her smile warm. “Let’s go.”
For Adora, it’s a dizzying moment of deja vu, Catra’s smile over her outstretched hand. But this time, her fingers curl into Catra’s, lace through, squeeze -- just for a moment -- a little harder than the situation might normally warrant. Adora’s mentioned Mara’s appearance in that almost-final moment, but never told anyone what they discussed. Nor has she ever revealed the last illusion(?) that she faced, or Horde Prime’s final taunt. She thinks that the others would understand, most of them, probably -- that the world was saved not just because it was the right thing to do, but to preserve a possible future that Adora desperately wanted.
It’s just, you know. Never really come up in conversation.
So if for a moment Adora is a million miles away again, this time it’s for a completely different reason, and then she’s looking back at Catra with a smile full of a quiet wonder. “Yeah,” she says softly, as her fingers find the pin that still lives in her belt.
“Hey Catra, if I gave you this, would you wear it?”
Catra blinks at her, nonplussed. She glances down at the pin, then back up at Adora’s face, before a small laugh escapes her. Taking it, she holds it in her palm, feels out the contours with her thumb.
They’d both grown up always with the Horde’s sign somewhere on them, a mark of who they were, of where they belonged. Catra remembers the first time she saw it replaced on Adora by this thing. How it felt like just another stake driven in the fracturing ground between them.
For Catra, now--
“Just so you know,” she says, sticking it to her belt, her fingers just as steady as her voice, which doesn’t quaver with the feelings welling up in her chest, not one bit. “Proud, card-carrying member of the Rebellion or whatever, I’m not adding any tiaras to this.”
Seeing the pin on Catra makes Adora’s eyes a little wet, but they can’t start crying in the garden. Man, they really should’ve gone inside. She swallows back the tears, then leans into Catra, deliberately putting some weight on her. “But you’d look so pretty,” she teases.
Catra groans dramatically and bats at Adora’s shoulders. “Ohhh no. Nonono. Don’t you dare start,” she says, fighting a laugh.
Adora pulls away and ahead of Catra just to turn back and sweep into a bow, all without letting go of her hand. “Princess Catra,” she intones, looking up through her lashes and fully prepared for the reaction.
Catra puts a hand over her own face for a moment, a strangled noise muffled by her palm. When she pulls it away, though, there’s a smirk instead, and she steps into Adora’s space, running that hand over Adora’s hair in a gentle caress. “Then, by the power vested in me,” she intones, “I hereby dub thee: High Idiot.”
And she promptly shoves Adora’s head downwards.
Adora wobbles for a moment, but manages to maintain her balance just enough that she doesn’t fall. Her laughter doesn’t help; as she rises back up, she pushes her free hand against her stomach, as if the pressure would help control the giggles escaping her.
“Your face was priceless,” she manages to say through the laughter as it starts to recede. Her eyes are drawn again to the familiar pin in its new position, and her smile softens. “No tiaras is fine. Whatever you want.”
“Whatever, huh?” Catra’s grin fades into a smile of her own, looking down at their joined hands. She gives Adora’s fingers a light squeeze before meeting her eyes again. Catra wonders how much of the feeling welling up inside her Adora can see.
“Well... I think I’ve already got all I want,” she says, and it’s true.
“Good,” Adora says, gently tugging on their joined hands and starting to walk toward the nearest (doored) entrance to the palace. “There’s still time left before the dinner Glimmer’s holding for the group leaving tonight. Is my room okay? I do want to get changed.”
“Sure. I mean, I’m pretty sure that’s where most of your fancier shirts are anyway.” Catra nudges Adora’s ribs with her elbow, chuckling, then looks up at the high towers of Bright Moon, fixes for a moment on the small set of windows that mark their now-familiar objective.
(High places were always theirs.)
She turns to Adora with a familiar gleam in her eye. “Race you up there?”
Adora stops walking, but keeps her fingers tight around Catra’s.
“Okay, on three. One,” and she sets her feet. Catra grins, mirroring her.
“Two,” as they drop into a crouch together.
“Three!” is when Adora bursts forward, only then letting her hold on Catra’s hand loosen, because she’s not letting her cheat her way into a head start. She’s going to have a hard enough time beating her up there as it is. And though she’s never liked losing these races, finding Catra there at the end, waiting for her, has always been the best consolation to the sting of the loss.
In fact, it’s worth it.
Catra laughs, high and clear, and kicks off into a sprint as Adora does, taking to all fours as they leave grass and dirt behind to lope just as swiftly over stone paths and floating steps. Melog bounds after them and keeps pace right behind, trilling with delight.
===
Under clear skies, under warm sunlight. In the shade of a walkway, a passing guard stops to watch the two figures running one after the other, mingled voices and laughter carried in the wind.
Who can blame them, the guard thinks, shaking her head with a smile. It’s a beautiful afternoon.