Firedance

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/20014477.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: Other
Fandom: Alita: Battle Angel (2019)
Relationship: Alita (Battle Angel Alita)/You
Character: Alita (Battle Angel Alita)
Stats: Published: 2019-07-28 Words: 1130

Firedance
by healfriend

Summary

After another long week of the necessary drudgery, Alita brings you to a secluded lagoon
outside of town for an evening of reprieve.

There it sits, submerged under a thousand tons of brackish lagoon water: a colossal URM Warship
larger than any you'd ever seen. Too deep for the amateur scrapdogs and too irradiated for any pro
outfit, it lies peacefully at the murky floor in a state of near-perfect preservation, embraced by a
kaleidoscopic coral reef colored beyond the rainbow. An otherworldly glow illuminates the sunken
stage, rising ever further above to the surface and providing the only light for you and Alita on this
moonless evening.

There was no sure purpose to this particular excursion; no birthday or Motorball triumph to
celebrate, no tragic loss to mourn, no dilemma to ruminate, nothing; just you and her, together, at
peace under the stars, the way it ought to be. Iron City rarely afforded such moments of tranquility
and you learned long ago they were to be cherished always and shared whenever possible.
Cushioned by the cool sand of the shore and lulled by the soft mechanical hum of Alita lying next
to you, you begin to drift away, skyward, into the cosmos.

An acrid scent soon rouses you, panic very nearly setting in before you get your bearings. You are,
thankfully, still at the lagoon's edge with the cool sand below and the prismatic shimmer beyond.
You prop yourself on one elbow and turn about in search of what must be fire, only to come nearly
nose-to-nose with a crouching Alita; watching you sleep was something of a habit for her and you
could never quite make sense of it. Reflexively, you flail your anchoring arm out in self-defense
and crash down onto the beach, snuffing out the last embers of sleep. Uttering something halfway
between a word and a grunt, you dust yourself off as she giggles like a child.

"Hehe...sorry."

Orange flame lashes the night sky further up the beach, where Alita had cobbled together a small
bonfire as you dozed. As you approach, hand-in-sandy-hand, the acrid scent begins to roll into a
smooth, fruity aroma that you happily fill your lungs with. Alita notices the puzzled expression
forming on you face and points to the treeline on the opposite shore, standing sentinel over the
lagoon.

"It's the leaves; they have a greasy coating that gives off this great scent when you burn it."

"I didn't know you'd been here before."

She pulls her hair back behind her ear, absentmindedly.

"Once, back...then. Back when I was looking for my past."

Her eyes drop, fixing on the ground at nothing in particular. You pick up the cue and rack your
brain, desperate to move the conversation elsewhere before things turn too dour.

"Hey. Want to try something?"

She perks up in an instant.

"Yeah, sure!"

You guide Alita down closer to the water's edge, right where the soft blues of radioactive glow and
stark reds of primal fire intermingle. After grabbing both of her hands, you pause, feeling your
pulse suddenly break into a full gallop. Strangely, your heart always seems to know before your
head when something absolutely perfect is about to happen. Alita stares at you with an adorable
look of growing curiosity — and, you can't help but think, something more.

"We've never danced before, have we?"

These are the moments you live for; the moments that make every miserable second in Iron City
worth fighting through. Alita's face comes alive, a light shining brighter than all the others. Her
hands briefly tighten around yours to the point of pain, but you swear there could be no better
feeling in the world.

And so you begin, slowly at first, feeling out the cadence and striving to match your steps. Despite
her lack of experience, she is graceful as ever, flowing elegantly from form to form as you struggle
to keep up. You hadn't told her what a terrible dancer you actually are, but she surely knows by
now. And from the look on her face, she doesn't seem to care one bit.

The pace quickens and the stumbles become more infrequent. You glide and twirl and float along
the beach among the reds of the fire and the blues of the water and the colors from deep for which
you know no name. There is harmony now as your bodies move closer, souls stirred and passion
rising. You and her, interwoven, and nothing else beside.

Suddenly, you come crashing down for the second time this evening, landing with a sodden thud
upon the tide-touched sand. So lost in the splendor of the moment were you that you don't quite
know what had happened; a tangling of the feet, maybe, or perhaps a missed catch. And then you
look up, and all is made clear. Alita is standing directly above you, that ravishing glint cutting
straight through the flittering flame. Her eyes, as ever, were betraying her.

In an instant she descends, straddling your body and pinning your arms to your side. You find
yourself struggling to catch breath from beneath the dense Berserker frame, though you suspect
that was precisely her intention; she had a way of playing rough when the mood struck and you
were never one to complain.
All the good it would do you anyway.

Her hands travel a teasing trail up your torso with all the lightness of a feather, exploring the curves
and crevasses of your body before finally setting firm on either cheek. She gives you a look, as if to
say, "trust me", and you do unconditionally. You hear the faintest sound on both sides, barely
registering above the distant crackle of the bonfire. After a second of confusion, it clicks, and you
can't help but smile.

A tingling sensation begins to spread across you face as Alita sends warmth through her touch,
gently at first but now rapidly intensifying. Sweat beads and your chest begins to crest higher and
higher as you fight to find air. Sensing your struggle, Alita relives some of the pressure upon you
and begins to ride the rise and fall of your breath. Her gaze is still sharp and feral; as much as you
are enjoying this, she is even more so.

And then, just as it is becoming too much to bear, she brings her forehead down to touch with
yours; nothing remains in your field of vision but her wondrous eyes, endless and abyssal, the
warship's otherworldly glow dancing free within. You lose yourself entirely, all sense of time and
place melting away as tears cloud your own unblinking eyes. With a kiss, longer and deeper than
night itself, the reverie breaks. Arms at last set free, you pull Alita closer.

A moment of tranquility shared; you and her, together, at peace under the stars, just the way it
ought to be.

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