Iron City Cooking

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/19977112.

Rating: General 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: 2019-07-25 Words: 718

Iron City Cooking

by healfriend

Summary

Running this way and that in a kitchen on the brink of combustion may not be the best way
to face the hottest day in years, but you've a promise to keep with your favorite cybergirl.

Sweat pours from your brow as you throw the kitchen's ragged curtains shut—a futile attempt to
keep the advancing midsummer heat at bay. Iron City always turns into a hotbox during the middle
months, but this is an unusual degree of miserable even by those standards; add to that the warmth
of the oven and your own frantic scampering to keep anything from burning and it's a small
wonder you haven't passed out yet. Right on cue, you feel a pang of lightheadedness grip you, but
there's no time to rest; you quickly peel your shirt off and twist it up into a makeshift bandana. You
had promised Alita something wonderful for breakfast, and you'd move Zalem and Earth to keep
that promise.

Suddenly, you hear the creaking sound of a window being thrown open—the same one you had
just blocked off. With some theatricality, Alita bursts through the curtains and lands gracefully
next to you, holding a bag of oranges and wearing nothing more than a plain blue tank top and
shorts. She rises with an impish grin and you momentarily lose yourself in her eyes; somehow the
kitchen grows warmer still. Her greeting is low and breathless.

"Hey there."

The curtains slowly drift back into place, pulling the morning sunbeams into a quick retreat across
Alita's body, caressing the subtle curves of her cybernetic musculature and sparkling brilliantly
against the sweat dripping down her face. It was in moments like these—covered in scuffs and cuts
after a fierce Motorball match, or returning from a hunt wild-eyed and stained with blood—you
find her most beautiful, most authentic, most human—enchanted by the imperfections of the girl
made to be perfect.

She inhales deeply as she sets the oranges on the table, features lighting up as she takes in the scent
of your cooking.
"Oh, what is that?! It smells amazing!"

"Well, let's see...bacon in the oven, eggs and gravy on the stovetop, and spiced sausage cooling
over on the counter. Oh, and orange juice in the fridge, if it hasn't conked out on us." You can't
help but grin and feel a small pang of pride over what had thus far been an impressive bit of multi-
tasking. Alita's smile only widens, eyes beaming with the kind of pure joy that makes your heart
melt in an instant.

"For me?"

"Yes. For you."

She leaps forward and surprises you with a tight hug, which would have been rather embarrassing
had she not been just as drenched in sweat as you were. The embrace lingers on for while, neither
one of you wanting to let go, until the unmistakable smell of burnt bacon assails your nostrils and
sends you scrambling for the oven mitt. Before you even realize you've lost it, Alita yanks the pan
from the rack and—with a yelp of pain that runs your blood cold—hastily sets it down upon a
nearby countertop. You run to her side, nearly tripping over a chair in the process, only to be
greeted with a look of bemusement. She raises her hand and flexes her nanotech fingers in a wave.

"I'm fine! Just a bit of pain is all!"

The two of you relax and share a laugh, but you don't feel the least bit foolish for worrying.

After a bit more scampering around in the unrelenting heat of the kitchen, breakfast is finally ready
to be served: a sprawling five-egg omelette consisting of three cheeses, spiced sausage, and bacon
(slightly singed), with a generous slathering of gravy atop. Alita is sitting cross-legged at the table
trying her best to restrain a smile; she wanted to help you finish cooking, of course, but you
insisted.

She wastes no time digging in. Within moments of her first taste, she rocks forward and moans
with delight, and your entire world is at peace.

"Oh...this is good...really good!"

She takes another bite, then another, then another, and before long she's cleaned the plate entirely,
setting her fork down with a punctuating clank.

"I didn't know you were such a great cook! Promise me you'll make it again sometime soon?"

"Of course."

She glows with a radiant contentment that bathes you in warmth—the kind that soothes your soul
on even the hottest of days.

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!