3.36 – Stay Warm

When they parted ways, Aurora returned to Mistral’s apartment. Mistral ducked into an alleyway, and as soon as she was out of sight, she shifted back into her normal form so she wouldn’t raise suspicion walking up to her apartment. It took a few more minutes of walking but eventually they made their way inside together, and were greeted almost immediately by a loud, demanding meow from Mr. Plow.

“Would you feed him, please?” Denise asked, winking as she slipped off her coat.

Aurora nodded and made her way to where Denise kept the cat food. She grabbed a can, popped it open, and emptied its meaty, gravy-laden contents into Mr. Plow’s dish. The cat wasted no time, diving into his meal with deep, contented purring.

A few moments later, Denise reemerged as Mistral, now wrapped in a soft, fuzzy bathrobe, her damp platinum-blonde hair draping over her shoulders. “Would you like a mug of hot chocolate?” she offered, her voice warm and inviting.

Aurora grinned. “I most definitely would!”

Mistral set a kettle on the stove, and before long, they were each holding a steaming mug of hot chocolate, topped generously with little marshmallows and swirls of whipped cream. A plate of delicate butter cookies sat between them on the sofa.

Aurora let out an exaggerated stretch, reaching for her mug with a playful groan. “Mmmmm, cocoa… I needed this after all that cold weather.” She took a blissful sip, sighing happily as the rich chocolate melted over her tongue. “That was… definitely an adventure. But more than that, it was the first time we really worked together. Like, seriously.”

Her heart was full, and now her stomach was warm with chocolatey goodness. She nibbled on a cookie, savoring the buttery sweetness.

Mistral smiled over the rim of her own mug. “Speaking of special occasions, we should spend Christmas together.” She set her cup down and leaned in slightly, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I could visit your town and guarantee a real white Christmas for San Isidro. A nice gentle snowfall—it might be a nuisance, but it’d be beautiful.” She took another slow sip of cocoa before adding teasingly, “Or, if you liked, I could make it heavier in just a specific area.”

Aurora laughed, setting her mug down just as Mistral leaned in further. She met her halfway, pressing her lips against Mistral’s in a soft, lingering kiss.

I wonder what that feels like… Holly hummed in Aurora’s mind, a knowing lilt in her voice.

When they finally pulled apart, both of their faces were flushed with warmth, and their smiles were sweet with affection.

“I’d love to get right to celebrating,” Mistral murmured, “but I need to file a report for the authorities.” She winked and stood, sauntering away with an exaggerated sway to her hips, throwing a teasing glance over her shoulder.

Aurora watched her go with a grin before finishing off her cocoa. She leaned back against the sofa, popping another cookie into her mouth. Mr. Plow, now finished with his own meal, trotted up to her and rubbed insistently against her legs.

“Again?” Aurora chuckled, tilting her head down at the fluffy little tyrant. She broke off a small piece of a cookie and dropped it in front of him.

Mr. Plow sniffed at it, then gave a single lick before lifting his nose in blatant feline disdain. With a flick of his tail, he turned around and strutted away, as if she’d offended his royal sensibilities.

Aurora laughed. “Guess he’s got standards.”

A while later, Mistral returned to the living room, her paperwork evidently finished. She sat beside Aurora, who immediately slipped an arm around her, pulling her close.

“Did you enjoy your cookies?” Mistral asked, resting her head lightly against Aurora’s shoulder.

“Yup! They were delicious,” Aurora replied cheerfully. “But Mr. Plow apparently disagrees.” She gestured to where the rejected cookie crumb still sat, untouched.

Mistral smirked. “Oh? Not refined enough for His Highness?”

Aurora laughed. “Apparently not.”

“If they were tuna cookies, maybe.” Mistral rolled her eyes, her fingers absentmindedly scratching Mr. Plow behind the ears. The cat, sensing his human’s mild exasperation, primly seated himself in her lap, kneading it briefly before settling in with a self-satisfied purr.

Aurora smirked. “Did you even eat yours?”

“Nah,” Mistral admitted with a chuckle. “I grabbed them for you at the corner store last second. I wanted to make sure I had the cocoa ready for you when you buzzed in… well, I was going to make you a nice cup of ramen too, but…” she gestured to the cat draped over her lap, “looks like I’m pinned for the time being. You can pick your flavor when I manage to reclaim my freedom. I’ve been putting off grocery shopping for a bit.”

She shrugged, her expression unbothered, then looked up at Aurora. “While we wait for His Royal Majesty to decide he’s done with me, you should take a shower. Feel free to change back if it’d be more comfortable. I’ll bring in some towels by the time you’re done.”

Aurora grinned, pushing the plate of remaining cookies toward Mistral. “You should have some. You totally earned them today. And besides, they’re really good.” She stretched her arms overhead with an exaggerated groan, then shivered. “I don’t feel that cold, not like before, but I think after a blizzard like that, it just kinda gets into you, you know?” She laughed, hugging her arms around herself.

Mistral smirked and scratched Mr. Plow’s chin as the cat butted against her hand with greedy insistence. “I should probably change back too. He gets extra amorous when I look like this… sound familiar?” She raised an eyebrow teasingly. “Want me to wash your clothes while you’re at it?”

Aurora blinked at that, then chuckled nervously. “Hahaha… um… I do have clothes on but I don’t think they’ve been getting dirty under the glamour, you know.” She glanced down at herself, briefly questioning what her civilian outfit even looked like before deciding it didn’t really matter. “I think I’ll stay as Aurora for now.” With a thought, she dismissed her wings.

Before she could step away, Mistral’s voice turned playfully coy. “Before you go, lean over here… I want to show you something.”

Aurora tilted her head, intrigued. “Is it about Mr. Plow?” she asked, leaning closer.

“No… this.”

Without warning, Mistral pulled her in, pressing Aurora’s face against the soft swell of her chest, peeking just above the neckline of her bathrobe.

Holly hummed. … Uhu…

Aurora’s breath hitched, then she let out a giggle. “Mmmm… I wanted to do this when I saw Mr. Plow getting all that attention from you, but I didn’t want to ask.”

Mistral chuckled softly, stroking Aurora’s hair. “You don’t have to ask.”

Aurora nuzzled in, her senses filling with the delicate, lingering scent of flowers—faint but fresh, like blossoms after a gentle rain.

Uhu… I’ll just quietly sit here.

After a few minutes, Aurora reluctantly pulled back, only to be caught in Mistral’s grasp as her fingers traced down from her hair to her cheek. Aurora barely had a second to react before Mistral bent forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

Mr. Plow, sensing the shift in attention, flicked his tail and jumped off, clearly miffed at losing his prime spot.

They lingered in the kiss, slow and unhurried, savoring the warmth between them. When they finally pulled apart, Mistral’s lips curled into a teasing smile. “You know how many emails I get about stuff like this?”

Aurora blinked, then giggled. “What, about kissing you?”

“No, not that.” Mistral laughed, shaking her head.

Aurora narrowed her eyes playfully. “You mean to tell me people actually ask if they can snuggle into your boobs?” She waggled her brows. “I knew there had to be a few trying their luck. You do smell amazing, by the way.”

Mistral blushed faintly but rolled her eyes. “Ha… no, I meant fan letters. Mostly not from girls.” She exhaled in amusement. “Honestly, I almost feel guilty, like maybe I should let some of them have a turn, but…”

Aurora stiffened immediately, shaking her head in rapid protest.

“…Buuut, I don’t care about them like I care about you, so…” Mistral giggled.

Aurora kept shaking her head, eyes wide in playful horror. “Bad idea!” she protested, voice firm despite the warmth in her cheeks. Sure, she was seeing Sarah too, but if Mistral seriously entertained the thought of letting a fan have a turn? Yeah, no. That would be an issue.

Mistral chuckled, her laughter rich and full of amusement as she allowed her form to shift back to Denise Hastings. She shrank slightly in stature, her figure adjusting just enough to make her bathrobe fit more modestly. It was an odd but fascinating contrast, seeing her just as stunning yet different in the way her presence filled the space. She winked. “I’ll get you that towel. Go ahead.”

Aurora watched her retreat, then stretched her arms above her head before heading for the shower. The moment she stepped beneath the hot spray, she let out a slow sigh of satisfaction. The water cascaded over her head and shoulders, the pressure kneading away lingering tension from the cold outside. Instinctively, she reverted back to her base form—wanting to fully enjoy the warmth, to feel it properly against her skin without her Empyrean resistance dulling the sensation.

And that was when she realized she’d made a terrible miscalculation.

She hadn’t been thinking.

One second she’d been standing nude beneath the stream, and the next, she was fully clothed, her soaked hoodie and jeans clinging awkwardly to her skin. The sudden weight of the drenched fabric made her groan in exasperation.

Not a good idea...

Before she could even begin peeling herself free, the shower curtain suddenly pulled back.

Denise stood there, taking in the scene for a long, amused moment before bursting into soft laughter.

Leona turned a furious shade of red. “Totally not what you’re thinking,” she insisted, pouting even as she let out a reluctant laugh.

Denise crossed her arms, smirking. “Just had to jump into some warm water, huh?” she teased.

Aurora huffed. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, on the bright side, now I do have clothes to wash, so I feel less foolish for bringing it up earlier. Thanks for your noble sacrifice.” Denise winked. “Now go ahead and strip out of those and wring them out before you pass them over.”

Leona groaned but complied, peeling the soggy layers off her body and wringing them out over the side. She had to get up on her toes to reach the showerhead, adjusting the angle so she wasn’t drenching the entire floor in the process. It was a tedious process, and just as she got through the bulk of it, she suddenly paused, her fingers closing around something in her pocket.

Her face fell.

Her phone.

And her communicator.

And—damn it all—Chuntao’s business card, now thoroughly waterlogged and crumbling apart in her grasp.

She let out a strangled chuckle, shaking her head at herself. “Of course this would happen,” she muttered, holding up the poor, ruined card between two fingers as if mourning its untimely demise.

“In the name of my noble sacrifice, would you dry my phone with your wind powers, please?” she pleaded, dramatically passing the device to Denise, who promptly exploded into laughter.

Denise had to clutch her stomach, wiping at the corner of her eye as she finally caught her breath. “I wouldn’t have even thought about where your stuff goes when you transform. It’s like a magic trick! Maybe it all gets stuffed into a pocket dimension or something.” She turned the phone over in her hands, examining it. “Honestly? It doesn’t look too bad. I’ll give it a thorough blow-dry for you. But these”—she motioned to the bundle of clothes—“are definitely going into the wash.”

Leona nodded gratefully, still giggling at herself. She watched as Denise set the phone down on the counter and powered it off for good measure.

Then, Denise’s tone softened slightly. “Y’know… seeing you like this reminds me that you saw me when I was younger. Way younger than you.” Her lips quirked up in an almost self-conscious smile. “It’s kind of embarrassing, isn’t it? I was actually nervous to transform back before you got home. Self-conscious, I mean.”

Leona blinked, then nodded in understanding. “Yeah… I get that. It’s definitely kind of embarrassing.” She chewed her lip before letting out a small, sheepish laugh. “I didn’t exactly want you to see me right now either. I just… really wanted to enjoy the shower more.”

Uhu… Holly hummed softly. How cute.

Denise smirked, shaking her head. “Go on, then. I’ll get your stuff taken care of.”

Leona smiled warmly, reaching over to pass the last of her wrung-out clothes to Denise before finally stepping fully back under the spray. “Thanks… really.”

Denise nodded with a teasing smile, taking the damp bundle of clothes. “Then I’ll quit peeping and get to making you some ramen. Something nummy-nummy for you after all that hard work.” She winked, her tone playful, but… was she in mama-bear mode instead of lover mode?

Leona blinked as Denise left, feeling a mix of amusement and curiosity.

Finishing her shower, Leona stepped out to grab the fresh towel Denise had hung for her, drying off quickly. The apartment was already beginning to smell like ramen again, the warm scent wafting through the air. As she rubbed her hair dry, she thought about how much Denise relied on instant meals. The girlfriend of a college student… That meant she had an obligation to break the stereotype.

The cooking skills she already had were more of a survival mechanism, a necessity for when Goonie wasn’t around to whip up something nourishing. But Denise? She had the culinary habits of a stereotypical student. I should really learn to cook more than fancy ramen…

If she wanted to be helpful—really helpful—she’d have to step up. A proper meal now and then wouldn’t just be good for Denise, but for her as well. Maybe Goonie could teach her some new recipes… something homemade, something warm.

With a grin, she shifted back into Aurora, summoning the soft, silken nightgown she had created before. The loose, flowing fabric draped comfortably over her frame as she walked out of the bathroom.

Waiting at the table was a cup of ramen—chicken flavored this time—steaming gently. Denise was already slurping down her own noodles, her expression content. Mr. Plow, ever the opportunist, was perched on the table, staring intently at the noodles sliding into his mistress’ mouth, his tail flicking with anticipation.

Aurora laughed softly and took her seat, picking up the fork provided. She twirled the noodles lazily before taking a bite, savoring the warmth of the broth.

“Do you need any help with the paperwork?” she asked between bites. “I’m still learning about it, but I might be able to help.”

“No… it’s all just boring one-person stuff.” Denise shrugged, setting her chopsticks down to stretch. “It’s just me giving my account of things, so I can’t really share the load.” She reached over, absentmindedly stroking Aurora’s hair before slurping up more noodles.

Aurora leaned into the touch, smiling softly. She didn’t bring up her cooking plans just yet—she didn’t want to make promises she wasn’t sure she could keep. But if she had her way, the next time Denise visited, she’d have something homemade waiting for her.

They finished their ramen and polished off a few more butter cookies before Denise stood to check on the laundry. When she returned, she exhaled deeply, looking relieved. “Okay, now that that’s over, we can finally relax. Your clothes will be dry by morning… well, probably before then, but you get it.” She smirked before tilting her head slightly. “Do you have any homework? You can use my computer if you need to get something done.”

Aurora chuckled, stretching lazily. “Not yet. I’d have to pop back home for that, but honestly? I’m not up for traversing half the continent just for homework.” She sighed dramatically before grinning. “I’ll have plenty to catch up on when I get back, but it’s worth it.”

Denise leaned against the arm of the couch, shifting gears. “I’d almost say we should be naughty and spend the night in a Clubhouse, but… I wouldn’t want to risk getting walked in on, eh?” She giggled, a faint blush dusting her cheeks.

Aurora’s brows lifted, her lips curving into a playful smirk. “Oh? What’s the surveillance situation like there? We’d have to behave like really good friends, and I’d have to stay transformed the whole time.” She grinned mischievously. “But we could still have fun. We’ve got two more days. If things stay calm, we could binge movies, eat snacks, maybe play some games at the Clubhouse.”

Denise laughed, then plopped down onto the couch, patting the cushion beside her. “Or… do you want to spend time with Mistral now?” She winked.

Aurora’s cheeks burned as she wiggled, plopping down next to her. “Mmmm… I thought you’d never ask.”

Denise gestured, her form shifting once more. Her golden-brown hair turned platinum blonde, her figure subtly changing into the striking presence of the heroine Aurora adored.

Aurora blushed, her heartbeat quickening as she instinctively nuzzled closer, reveling in her warmth.

Holly murmured, her presence humming in the back of Aurora’s mind.

Aurora ignored it, sighing contentedly as she let herself melt into Mistral’s embrace.

Mistral smiled knowingly. “Actually, I was thinking about something special… a wish come true for Leona.” She chuckled softly. “Hmm, now that I say it, did you ever hear about the time Bombshell got a Make-A-Wish request and… well, went a little overboard?”

Aurora blinked, caught off guard by the shift in topic. Wait, what? She shook her head, both intrigued and mildly concerned.

Mistral smirked. “She couldn’t resist letting the poor boy have some topless time. Nothing happened, obviously, just some snuggling. But you know how she is.” She laughed, the arm around Aurora tightening slightly. “I’d say about a third of all Make-A-Wish requests for heroes are just about spending personal time with us in one way or another.”

Aurora bit her lip, her brain immediately spiraling down a rabbit hole of unwanted possibilities. So, does that mean that someday a horny guy on his deathbed is going to request something from me, and I’ll be morally obligated to—

Her entire face turned crimson.

Uhu… Holly’s voice purred in the back of her mind, tinged with unmistakable amusement.

Mistral chuckled, clearly noticing Aurora’s flustered expression. “Relax. You don’t have to do anything, even if you’re requested. A lot of the time, we get by doing something thoughtful for them. They tend to feel bad for asking for anything weird anyway. Only the really awkward ones throw a tantrum about it, but Bombshell takes most of the requests seriously. She’s easygoing like that.” She paused before adding, “Then there was this sweet guy who asked Vanguard to make world peace a reality before he passed away. Obviously, he couldn’t grant that wish, but he did put his name on the official list of civilians honored for giving their lives in service to the world. It was really touching.”

Aurora exhaled, smiling softly. “I hope I can find a graceful way to handle it if something like that ever gets asked of me someday.”

Mistral turned her gaze back to Aurora, her expression warm and playful. “Mistral would like to spend time with her girlfriend, but she’s also happy to let her biggest fan have some time with her before bed.” She winked.

Aurora swallowed hard. The invitation was clear, but it wasn’t what she had expected. It wasn’t teasing or suggestive—it was just… sweet. The idea of spending time with Mistral as her fan was something she had never even considered, yet the thought of it made her heart swell.

With a deep breath, she let her form slip away, reverting to Leona—small, vulnerable, utterly exposed.

Mistral laughed softly as she caught her, wrapping her up in a secure, motherly embrace. “If I were dying, I think I would’ve asked for this,” Leona admitted, her voice small. “But I definitely would have been sweet and polite about it.”

“Just to meet me?” Mistral mused. “Why not take a flight around your hometown? Maybe stage a fight you could watch?” She giggled, then playfully added, “Ah, remind me later to log into my hero account and delete some very incriminating emails.”

Leona flushed but didn’t respond—she was too busy soaking in the warmth of Mistral’s body, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat, the way her hand moved in slow, soothing strokes through her blonde hair.

“Mmmmm… yesh,” she murmured, her voice slurred with drowsy contentment. She felt warmer than she ever did as Aurora, as if every part of her was being wrapped up in a cocoon of safety.

Mistral held her close, protectively, securely—like a mother cradling her child.

For Leona, it truly was a wish come true.

STAND BACK, TRUE BELIEVERS, FOR A TALE OF TITANIC TERROR AND TECHNOLOGICAL TURMOIL!

From the moment mankind first struck rock against rock, then metal against metal, and birthed the first machine, a fear was forged—an age-old terror of technology’s tireless tread toward tomorrow!

Even now, in this era of electronic enlightenment, that fear festers! The dread of cold, unfeeling mechanisms! The horror of heartless hardware! The spine-chilling specter of soulless circuitry!

But what if—just WHAT IF—there existed a machine with a heart?! A heart not of love, nor compassion, but a heart brimming with HATRED?!

And what if that hate-fueled horror were but a cog in a greater, ghastlier game—a labyrinth of lunacy where no mere mortal could escape unscathed?!

Human myth and legend are filled with mazes meant to torment their captives—maddening twists and turns, switchbacks and dead ends that confound the mind and crush the will. Labyrinths of legend are the stuff of stories, but in the real world, the most insidious maze of all is bureaucracy! A relentless, remorseless construct, where the path to justice is obscured by red tape and riddles!

Now, our fearless heroine, Aurora, finds herself on the threshold of this madness—where logic bends, where progress is an illusion, where even the purest of intentions are ground into gears and spat out as spare parts!

But behind this maze, behind this twisted tangle of torment, lurks a malignant maestro of mechanical mayhem—a phantom of the factory with doom in his design!

Who is the sinister cybernetic schemer known as MR. MECHANICAL?! What devilish design fuels his army of doom-dealing drones?! And just WHAT horrifying havoc awaits our hero?!

DO NOT DARE DEPART, for the worst is yet to come!

—A Voice from the Ghost in the Machine!