storypaint: (Default)
storypaint ([personal profile] storypaint) wrote2008-07-18 08:14 am

See Through (Violet/Mirage)

Comm: International Day of Femslash 7/19/08
Prompt: Violet x Mirage. They were both invisible.
Length: 1481
Fandom: The Incredibles
Title: See Through
Author: rhap-chan
Pairing/Characters: Mirage/adult!Violet
Rating: PG for drinking, girlkissing
Disclaimer: The Incredibles belongs to Disney/Pixar. All fanfiction archived here is a derivative of canon material that is not my property. I do not profit from these writings. The opinions and actions expressed in these stories are not necessarily the views and beliefs of the original author or me.

Excerpt: When she was a little girl and the Supers slipping out of the news and into history books and comics, Mirage stayed up late at night and read her brother's old comics over and over, tracing her fingers across the page, changing her fingertips to match their costumes like some sort of odd manicure.

Popular people, Violet thought sometimes, don't understand the difference between trying to be invisible and having to be invisible. Popular people don't see invisible people.

Invisible people don't see themselves, either.

*

The headband didn't make her visible. The smile did, the banter, the costume, and yes-- the mask. Almost contradictory, wasn't it? It was easy to be oneself and invisible-- but not half as easy to be oneself and visible to everyone. It felt naked.

Mirage had never learned the trick.

*

Syndrome had been dead for ten years, not that anyone was counting anymore, when the last anti-Super laws were overturned. It was almost amusing that a villain had turned the country back onto the idea of superheroism; there was a book in there, Mirage was sure, but she wasn't going to write it.

When she was a little girl and the Supers slipping out of the news and into history books and comics, Mirage stayed up late at night and read her brother's old comics over and over, tracing her fingers across the page, changing her fingertips to match their costumes like some sort of odd manicure. When her parents came in and told her to put out the light, she did, holding her fingers underneath the covers like a promise to herself.

She never told them what she could do; why there were times growing up that they could never find her, even when she was in the house. There never seemed to be a good time, and then there was no time and her parents were dead, the thought of confession useless. They missed her high school graduation, their car struck by a bus tossed by an errant Supervillain (somewhat harder to repress than the law-abiding Supers, there had been a rash of attacks during her high school years).

She'd came home in her bright red graduation gown and met her brother at the door. Her anger and sadness faded into pain and loss. She went to her bedroom and disappeared for three days without leaving. It was the first time she'd tried a full-body change since she was a very little girl and her skin burned as if she'd been out in the sun all day for too long.

Even when she became physically visible again, she was invisible. She had no mother to give her a headband. All she had was Bobby. Syndrome. The man in the mask.

*

It was just a day job. A lot of people afterwards didn't understand that. The police, for example. "How could you let him?" they asked her over and over again.

It was simple. She worked from 8 AM to 5 PM every day, with an hour for lunch and two weeks of paid vacation. She didn't clean up the bodies-- she met them at the door and tried not to think about why she never shook their hands when they left. A smart man once said that evil lay in the hearts of ordinary men just doing their jobs. He was right.

They would have put her in prison if Mr. Incredible hadn't pulled a few strings. She didn't feel like she could stay, though. She wasn't ready to be any more visible than she was.

It was a theme in her life. Mirage disappeared.

*

She was edging toward thirty-seven and sitting in a bar when she realized that she'd spent most of her life in camouflage. She had an apartment, she had a day job (as a real secretary), she even had a boyfriend once in a while. All the trappings of modern life, empty as they were.

She peered into her drink. It was clear and she could see all the way to the bottom of the glass.

She'd wasted her life, all thirty-seven years of it, she thought. She'd never put on the costume or the mask, she'd never stopped a bank robber. It was like--

To use a familiar metaphor, living all her life as Bob Parr when she could have been Mr. Incredible.

"Mirage," she whispered. It wasn't even a superhero name. It was actually her last name.

"Something on your mind, doll?" someone said to her quietly. She started visibly and then pushed her hair out of her eyes. The speaker was dressed in full costume-- an indigo leotard, black boots, a gray mask, a gray hairband. She was familiar to Mirage-- of course, she was. It took a moment to place her. Ultraviolet, an up-and-coming superhero-- twenty-five years old or so, force-field powers.

She stood out in the bar. If Mirage had been paying any attention, she would have noticed how the room quieted as Ultraviolet had entered. There were a few whispers and surreptitious, longing glances, but no one dared to approach her. A Super in a bar was looking for information, not company.

Ultraviolet leaned over Mirage's shoulder and said, "There's something I've always wondered. What was your power?" She put her hand on Mirage's upper arm.

Mirage's blood ran cold and she disappeared without thinking about it.

*

Three deep breaths and Ultraviolet hadn't let go of her. Mirage said quietly, "I'm not a Supervillain."

"I know," Ultraviolet replied. "We've met. I'm sure you remember. I mean, it has been a while..."

Mirage watched as the other woman blushed, just a little. Cautiously she slipped back into visibility.

"Yours is different than mine," Ultraviolet said thoughtfully. "I can change my refractive index. You sort of... chameleon out. You change your skin."

Mirage nodded. She licked her lips nervously and tried not to look down Ultraviolet's blouse. The way the other woman was standing, she had an exquisite view.

"Can I buy you a drink?" she asked absurdly, and to her surprise, the dark-haired woman agreed.

*

Violet had filled out in a way Mirage never had. She wasn't fat, but she was beautifully formed and Mirage was studying her as subtly as she could, searching for the scared, hopeful girl she'd met those years ago in this costumed crusader. She drank a shot and sighed, satisfied, before turning back to Mirage.

"My dad was really mad when you disappeared, you know," she said wryly. "I think he expected you to join the crew or something."

"I don't look good in red," Mirage said in return, smiling a little. Violet laughed.

Mirage smiled again; she pushed her hair out of her eyes again and looked past the eyeholes of the mask into Violet's eyes. It made her oddly hopeful.

"You don't need a sidekick, do you?" she found herself asking, feeling herself beginning to fade at the edges in anticipation of the answer. Sure enough, Violet's brow furrowed.

"A sidekick? No, not really."

Mirage bit back the tears that came suddenly to her eyes. It had been a stupid question. Of course.

"I was thinking about getting together a girl team, actually. I already have Superlative Gal on hold and Aquamarine, but we're still kids, you know. An older Super might get us in with the Superheroes Guild registry faster."

"You weren't looking for me," Mirage said, turning away.

"How do you know?" Violet said, reaching out and grabbing the other woman's chin, gently pulling her face towards hers. "How would I have found you otherwise? I know you put a lot of effort into being invisible. You come here all the time, for example, but you never hit on anyone. Those chicks in the corner have a standing bet going that you're actually transsexual, and that's why you won't talk-- because of your voice. Gregga is convinced you're straight and you go to gay bars to be left alone. But that's not it, is it?"

Mirage didn't move. She didn't disappear. She couldn't look Violet in the eye.

"A lot has changed since I was young," Violet said. "Including these sort of things."

She leaned further into Mirage's personal space and then deliberately took her hand. Her glove was surprisingly smooth and soft in Mirage's hand. Mirage realized she was sweating and wanted to wipe her palms off. She felt like a teenager again.

"I'll join the team," she said very quietly. She felt like everyone was staring at them. She'd never be able to come back here again. Not visibly.

"Will you go on a date with me too?" Violet asked.

Suddenly Mirage didn't want to be invisible anymore. She nodded.

*

The team was a hit-- the first openly gay superheroine team. They were in all the papers. They had archvillains right and left. Mirage and Violet barely had time to date, they were so busy.

Mirage woke up one morning in her girlfriend's bed and stretched langorously. She looked up at the ceiling, Violet's breathing still deep and even beside her.

It was her thirty-seventh birthday, the beginning of the rest of her life, and she was actually going to be there for it.

That in itself was pretty super.

[identity profile] sky-pirate-tat.livejournal.com 2008-07-22 05:19 pm (UTC)(link)
Ah! So great! X3 I'm glad I poked you with this.

[personal profile] pleonasm 2008-07-22 05:24 pm (UTC)(link)
I am too! That really stretched my wings. ^^

[personal profile] pleonasm 2008-07-30 08:46 pm (UTC)(link)
/blush

Thank you, I'm glad you liked it!~