I Want To Lay the Very Best!

Morgan adjusted the strap of her mask again, fingers fidgeting a little too long on the edge of the leather before she let it fall back into place. Calcine watched her out of the corner of her eye, not missing the slight tremble in her touch, the barely-there bite of her lower lip. She was trying to look composed, smug even, but something was off. There was a tension in Morgan's shoulders that wasn't normal for her, a stiffness in her stance that dulled her usual flair. Normally, she moved like liquid, as graceful and striking as Sparky at fully tapped Agility. Now she was motionless, her body wound tight as she sat with wings folded on her knees.

Calcine hadn't seen her like this since they'd found her under the bridge, still shaken from leaving the Flock behind. It was subtle, but it still sent a chill through her. Morgan's usual spark, that storm of energy she became during a showy entrance, wasn't there. The bird was a different woman right now; she was fragile in a way she tried hard not to show, and Calcine couldn't stop worrying about what it meant. Was it fear? Doubt? Did she not trust herself, or did she not trust Calcine to catch her if she fell?

This whole idea wasn't new to Calcine. Harper had filled her in on some of it, and she'd always known it wouldn't be easy for Morgan to adjust to having a trainer. Calcine had wanted this date to try and grow closer to their Flying teammate, who always kept everyone but Brandy at a wing's length. The bird was fragile right now, and Calcine was worried that pushing her would make her crack.

Still, leaving it alone wasn't in Calcine's nature either. A fierce loyalty to their team came to Rock Types as easy as breathing, and Morgan was on her team. Calcine would not let her suffer her problems alone, no matter how much she wanted to keep them hidden under her big, witchy hat.

They were waiting in the staging area behind the heavy curtain separating them from the ring. Every so often, the echo of a body slamming hard into the mat vibrated through the concrete floor. Cheers and moans and the occasional bark of a referee broke through the muffled barrier. The fight outside was wild tonight, and the crowd was riled up.

A thunderous crash echoed through the room, followed by a roar of approval. Morgan flinched ever so slightly.

"You okay?" Calcine asked, keeping her voice low, just loud enough to cut through the buzz of the locker room.

Morgan shot her a sharp look. "Of course I am. Ready for anything."

Calcine gave a slow, lazy shrug, leaning her shoulder back against a pillar. "Be fine if you weren't, I'm a little nervous."

Morgan arched a brow. "You? Nervous? You're the one who always keeps things calm."

"I'm Fire and Rock. Stony faced on the surface, bubbling away furiously underneath."

Morgan laughed, but it was short and too airy to be genuine. She looked away again, the mask obscuring most of her face, but Calcine caught the hard set of her jaw and how her hands flexed at her sides. Nerves, and they didn't suit Morgan at all.

"Just pre-fight jitters," Morgan said, voice a little too breezy. "I want to impress tonight."

"You will, you always do." Calcine smiled. "Brandy looks to me for support, Sparky to indulge her wild ideas, but when she's really stuck she looks to you."

Morgan went silent, her gaze flicking away as if mulling it over. Calcine saw the slight lift of her chin, the way her posture eased just a little. Her words had landed. Pride sparked behind Morgan's eyes, quiet, but real, warming the Steam Engine in Calcine's heart. Her partners shouldn't ever put themselves down; they were all too special for that.

"If you're going to flatter me, get over here and do it up close," Morgan said, patting her lap with a crooked smile. Calcine raised an eyebrow at the demand but stepped forward to meet it. She straddled Morgan's legs carefully, lowering herself into the seated bird's lap with a slow, deliberate weight.

The contrast was immediate. Calcine's frame was solid, all muscle and stone-hard curves, and Morgan, for all her bluster, was slender and delicate beneath the layers of leather costume and feathers. Calcine felt the softness of Morgan's plumage give beneath her as she settled, the fine down of her coat delightfully luxurious against her thighs. It was like sitting on a warm pile of velvet.

Morgan let out a theatrical grunt as Calcine settled down. "What are you made of? Bricks?"

"You offered a lap. If it's not up to the task, we can swap."

Morgan shifted under her with an exaggerated wince. "I didn't say I can't handle it. Just that your ass is fat."

"You love fat asses," Calcine said with a teasing glint in her eyes.

Morgan snorted, and with a cheeky grin, gave Calcine's rear a bold squeeze. Her fingers sank slightly into the firm muscle, and she blew a low whistle. "I've touched some incredible asses lately, this one is up there."

"Better than Ansitropic?"

"Not even close, but it's making the top five."

"Mmhm," Calcine murmured, leaning in just enough for their faces to almost touch. "It gets bigger. I'm going to go Coalossal in this fight."

Morgan grinned up at her, eyes shining just a little more now. "I'll judge it again when that happens. See if you can take the top spot."

She let her hands trail slowly up Calcine's sides, fingers tracing the edges of her torso with surprising gentleness. Her touch was soft against the shirt, reverent in exploring the muscle beneath, and Calcine felt herself relax into it. The warmth bleeding from her soon had Morgan's fingers toasty, but she didn't pull away.

Morgan's hand paused below her chest, her gaze flicking up uncertainly. Her other hand gave Calcine's chest a gentle, curious squeeze, fingers sliding over the curves. A few mischievous pinches got Calcine's back arched, pressing her chest into Morgan's touch.

Encouraged, Morgan leaned up to press a kiss to the underside of Calcine's jaw. Then another to her neck and, with a hand on a cheek to guide Calcine's head down, a final hesitant peck on her lips.

It wasn't a hungry kiss, or even passionate. Just a sweet, bashful touch of the lips.

Calcine melted into it anyway, the show of intimacy mattered far more than the actual physical pleasure. Her hand rising to cup the back of Morgan's head, she let their foreheads touch as their lips met with featherlight touches, trying to fit her head under the brim of Morgan's hat without knocking it off.

It was too much for the Murkrow. Morgan let out a breath that trembled on the way out, and Calcine, still perched in her lap, eased back just a little to give her space. She didn't move far, just enough to shift her weight and bring one hand up to cup Morgan's cheek, thumb brushing along the edge of her jaw in slow, soothing circles. With her other hand, she gently stroked Morgan's feathers where they flared near her collarbone, warm fingers threading through the soft down. Calcine stayed close, letting her presence be something Morgan could lean into until she could breathe properly again.

Morgan rested her head against Calcine's chest, her wide-brimmed hat tilted forward to completely obscure her face. Calcine didn't mind; she could feel the shift in Morgan's breathing and the subtle release of tension in her shoulders. She slid her hand slowly up and down Morgan's back in a steady rhythm, her touch warm and grounding, coaxing her further into ease.

The roar of the battle outside wasn't the right background music for all of this, but they found a brief peace together despite it.

"You ever get that feeling," Morgan said finally, her voice so quiet that Calcine had to strain to hear it, "like you're in the right place, but still scared you're going to fuck it all up?"

Calcine brushed the back of Morgan's neck as she replied. "Everyone relies on me, sometimes I worry I'll let you all down. It makes my stomach twist even thinking about it."

Morgan glanced up at her, red eyes peeking out from the thin gap between titty and hat brim. "So what do you do about it?"

The bassy thump of the crowd chanting something unintelligible seeped through the wall, like a heartbeat pressing in from outside. Calcine tried to pull Morgan close enough that her heartbeat would drown it out.

"Stop thinking about it," Calcine said. "It doesn't help."

Morgan huffed. "That's not an answer."

"It's true. There's nothing to do but forge on. Maybe I will fuck up someday, but if I don't act at all, it's inevitable."

"And this date with me, is this just you forging on?"

"No, I like you."

Morgan snorted, and Calcine gave her a smack on the side for it. Her eyes popped up through that slit again, the blood red swirling with anger this time.

"I don't lie," Calcine growled. "I will never bullshit you. If you were annoying me, I'd say. But you don't. I like you, Morgan. I want to like you a lot more."

"Why?"

"Because I see how hard you're trying," Calcine said. "You push yourself every time we fight. You care about looking good for us. You want to be loved. That's what matters to me. Not how pretty you look, or how distractingly silky you can be when you dance. I love why you do it. You give a damn."

Morgan looked at her, and her red eyes softened. "You're kind of a sap, you know that?"

"Always known it. Never ashamed to be sappy about all of you."

"You're extra sappy for Dani."

"I want to make her smile the most." Calcine grinned. "But you're high up the list."

It was an answer that seemed to please Morgan as she rapped her fingers over Calcine's stomach, eventually breaking the tune with a question. "My moves are distractingly silky, you say?"

"I'd love to take you dancing."

Morgan’s eyes rose up Calcine's body, and her smile bloomed. She reached out, leaning a wing on Calcine's chest to get eye-to-eye with her. "You're not dressed for dancing."

"Dress me up after then. You're the stylish one of us."

Morgan rolled her eyes, her grin crooked with something sharp forming on the edge of her tongue. But whatever quip she had ready stalled out. Morgan glanced down, fingers drifting through a lock of Calcine's hair, the movement more fidget than flirt. When she looked up again, her smirk was still there but softer around the edges. Her voice was low and careful when she finally spoke, as though testing the space between them one nervous step at a time.

"I'm not used to being on a team like this. With people who actually want me around."

That sounded unfair to Harper, but Calcine was sure Morgan loved the Swanna. It was a deeper comment than that. The Flock had been a cohesive whole, while Morgan was on Brandy's team as Morgan and nothing else.

Calcine touched Morgan's wing, stroking gently through the feathers. "We don't just want you around, Morgan. We want you close."

"You want me close, do you?" Morgan teased, her voice dipping playfully. "How close?"

Calcine leaned in and traced a small circle over Morgan's hand with her thumb. "I don't just want to pound you into a mattress tonight. You keep everyone at a distance, like you're waiting until we decide you don't fit. But we're already past that. Brandy sees how sharp you are and fucking adores you. Sparky lights up when you get under her skin, nobody else can give her a challenge there. Dani's in awe of all of us. We're not just putting up with you. I want you to see that."

Morgan swallowed, and Calcine felt her fingers twitch under hers.

"You still barely know me. Come on, be honest; when you look at me, what do you see?" Morgan asked.

Calcine didn't hesitate. "Someone I want to learn more about."

Morgan let out a breath, and it sounded like she'd been holding it for a while. She leaned her head forward until it lightly bumped Calcine's shoulder.

"Sappy fuck."

"Unashamedly so."

Morgan chuckled, and it was a real laugh this time. She pulled back just enough to meet Calcine's eyes again. "This is a weird date."

"About to get a lot weirder. But I'm glad we're on it."

"Me too," Morgan said. Then, after a pause, she added, quieter, "Thanks. For noticing, I needed this talk and not pushing too hard."

Calcine ground into Morgan's hip, making the bird squirm under her. "I'll do that hard pushing later," Calcine murmured, her lips brushing close to Morgan's ear, her tone thick with promise.

"As if you're topping tonight after all that. I'm going to treat you like a princess. Flustered. Pampered. Begging me to stop spoiling you."

"If I'm begging for anything tonight, it won't be for you to stop."

That got Morgan, her cheeks flushing a warm pink under the dark edges of her mask. She seemed to be searching for a comeback for a second, but nothing came. Instead, she huffed, exasperated and flustered, and let her head fall against the wall behind them.

Calcine watched her with smug satisfaction, the heat of her body pressing into Morgan's lap a slow burn. She didn't need to gloat. The blush on Morgan's face was victory enough.

Morgan peeked up again after a moment, red eyes narrowed with reluctant amusement. "You're dangerous when you're smooth."

"Learned it from you," Calcine said, leaning in just enough that their foreheads almost touched again. "And you're gorgeous when you let your guard down."

Morgan groaned, burying her face in Calcine's shoulder. "Okay, now you're pushing too hard. Be nice to me."

Calcine chuckled, wrapping her arms loosely around Morgan's back. "Oh, you want me to treat you nicely? No problem. I'll treat you like a princess. Give you a pillow to bite and everything."

The muffled sound of an announcer's voice rose above the crowd, calling for the next match, but Morgan didn't move right away.

"We should go," she said but made no effort to shift.

Calcine nodded. "Could blow this off and go make out on a rooftop somewhere."

"Rooftops not going anywhere, but Brandy is waiting for us. Let's give her a show."

"I pity our opponents."

"Don't," Morgan grinned. "We're going to give them everything they've dreamed of and plenty more they didn't even know they wanted."

Calcine looked at Morgan and was proud of that smile on her lips. Morgan was back in her element. The nervous tension that had coiled in her frame earlier was gone. Calcine could still see the shadow of vulnerability in her eyes, but now it was tempered with confidence. The spark was back.

Calcine leaned in close enough for her forehead to touch Morgan's again. "That's my girl," she murmured. "Now, princess carry me in there."

"Fuck off, you're heavy." Morgan snorted, "Walk ahead of me, so I can see that butt sway."

"Deal."

They stood together with a last shared grin and a squeeze of hands. Calcine led the way toward the curtain, hips swaying with exaggerated flair, while Morgan followed with a dramatic sigh and a pleased flutter of her wings.

Together, they stepped out into the light of the arena, ready to burn off a lot of sexual tension on whoever was unlucky enough to be up against them.