RP Something to Remember


The compliment hits Lark unexpectedly hard, and they can’t fight back a small, sharp smile even as they shake their head lightly and turn half-away. “You’re too kind.”

Really, they don’t think they’ll ever be the one turning heads, especially not when they’re standing next to Lily, but they’ll privately admit that maybe, just maybe, they picked the skirt with her in mind. Just for today, they remind themself again. Let’s not get carried away.

“Forgot my name already? You just said it,” they deflect easily, opening the door for her to go through and following on her heels. It’s somewhat novel to walk out of an apartment the normal way, but it’s novel in a nice way. Old-fashioned, almost. Sedate. Chill.

They let her lead the way, since she definitely knows the area better than them, and settle into a comfortable pace beside her. It’s just a little bit amusing, that a light jog for her is on the faster end of walking for them, but they’re not going to diss the advantages of being a beanpole. It means they don’t have to lean on their time powers to keep up, at least for now.

They frown lightly in the wake of her question, trying to think back, and their eyes go a little wide as they realize exactly how that might have looked. They almost miss a step, actually, catching the toe of their boot on a crack on the sidewalk, but they flicker back upright without missing a beat. “Oh, shit. No, I didn’t. It totally slipped my mind. I just crashed.”

They send her an apologetic look, guilt creeping in to smear its sticky fingers across their mind. Well now they’re extra glad that they didn’t dip this morning. The entire point of this whole affair is to give her a proper goodbye, after all. “Sorry. I hope you didn’t wait up on me.”

And they can’t even fix their mistake, because she’s already told them that she didn’t hear anything. Damn temporal inevitability.

They try for a smile, even if it doesn’t fit quite right with their mind still fighting itself, and seize upon the next question in the hopes of distracting from their struggle. “No, I just make that sound naturally.”

Removing a hand from their pocket, they show her the shuriken they’ve fished out, one of the smaller ones that they tend to keep on their person at all times. With a quick, deliberate gesture, they set it spinning around their finger. The smile comes a little more easily, now, they discover with muted relief. “Not all of us can summon cool glowy weapons. Some of us have to carry them in our pockets like any Average Joe.”

 

Occasionally she forgot just how tall Lark was. Their stride was longer than hers, and they kept up pretty easily just by walking. She was half-tempted to pick up the pace, get them to move a little more, but knowing Lark they’d probably just stop time to catch up with her without breaking their stride. She barely managed to hold back a laugh as they nearly ate shit on the sidewalk, stumbling forward before snapping back upright as though nothing had ever happened. Lark’s words from yesterday echoed in her head.

Don’t discount the mundane applications of time travel.

God, was that only yesterday? It felt like it had been a week since they showed up unannounced on her front step. She should have expected time to feel different when traveling with someone who could practically bend it to their will. She waved a hand at their answer, and the look they sent her way.

“No no, it’s fine. I didn’t wait up, I figured you’d just gone to sleep.” Lily lied easily, embarrassed at her reaction from the night before. They always said goodbye, why had she thought they would just take a shower and run away? They weren’t a drunken hookup, they were Lark for fuck’s sake. They were Lark, and they were here, and they were enjoying a warm summer’s day and it was just…nice. It was nice.

That sly grin crept across Lark’s face as they stopped at an intersection, the robotic voice commanding them to wait. They looked like a kid with their hand caught in the cookie jar after they’d already eaten all its contents. Of course they kept shurikens in their pockets. Why wouldn’t they? “Ah, but the glowy ones are more fun.”

To prove her point, a cobalt shuriken formed in Lily’s palm, which she quickly took and imitated Lark, sending it spinning around her index finger. “See? Regular metal is dull and cold. Glowy and blue is what’s hot this season. Cmon Lark, you gotta get with the times.” The crosswalk beeping at them to move gave Lily a head start on avoiding Lark’s punishing gaze for her pun, but she knew they would catch up eventually. She put on a stern expression and gave them the most serious look she could, which was slightly difficult when you had to look a little bit up.

“Also, let the record show that Lark LastName referring to themselves as “any Average Joe” is a crime and shall be punishable by Lark answering any burning questions that I may have.” Lily raised a hand to silence any retorts. There's a playful gleam in her eyes even as she attempts to continue the stern voice and expression. “Any defense that may be raised is rendered null and void by the defendant being from Oklahoma.”
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The relief they feel at her reassurance almost makes them feel worse, but Lark pushes the whole tangled knot aside before it can consume them. They’ll still try to make out with - uh - make it up to her. Today. Wow, is the sun getting to them already?

They tuck the shuriken against their palm so that they can roll their sleeves up without stabbing themself, tugging the fabric up to their elbows. You win this round, sun. At least they can pretend the pink on their face is from the burning ball of flame in the sky and not the equally hot woman beside them.

They can’t resist rolling their eyes fondly at her jab even as they coast to a stop on the edge of the curb. Feigning compliance, they tuck the boring metal shuriken back into their pocket and bump Lily lightly with their elbow. “Ah, yes, clearly what I need to do is pilfer your stash. If the Queen of Blades, Lily Pond, has so decreed it, what else is a humble traveler like myself to do?”

Then she speeds away, and they huff something that’s almost a laugh as they jog a little to catch up. “Oh, burning questions, you say? Well I’m just a simple country bumpkin, but I’ll do my best to answer I suppose.”

This is kind of fun. No, scratch that, this is really fun. Lark is having fun. It’s comfortable in a way they didn’t know they were missing, banting with her. They can even excuse the heat, and the walking, and the presence of other people. Maybe this is the kind of day they should give her, they think. Something small, and casual, and normal. When was the last time they had a wholly normal day?

“Fire away,” they tell her, and are surprised to find that they mean it. They’re almost eager to answer her questions. Within reason, they tell themself. They won’t reveal anything too damning, not today.

 

“Queen of Blades, now that’s a title I can get behind.” The phrase conjured the image of a crown of knives atop her head, perhaps in a regal silver dress with a couple slits up the side so she could still kick someone’s ass. And of course, every queen needed somebody to rule beside them, and what do you know she had the perfect person right next to her. She let the thought of Lark wearing a similar crown, clad in a floor-length emerald dress sit comfortably in her head for a moment before the sun burned it away like mist.

There was nothing wrong with picturing her friend in a nice dress, right? People always joked about being kings and queens, so it was fine. She chose to believe it was fine. And nobody could say otherwise. Damn, it sure was hot outside. She should’ve checked the weather before they left. That summer heat really snuck up on you sometimes.

Lily turned her gaze to the figure walking beside her, sleeves rolled up to their elbows. There were a million things she wanted to know about Lark, and about half a million of those she couldn’t ask or else she’d explode on the spot. She figured that after learning they were from Oklahoma, they wouldn’t get any more specific with personal information. She’d known them not long enough (ish) to know they liked to misdirect. They were a trickster after all.

“Alright, first question, for the person with the lovely silver haircut.” Lily put on a fake announcer voice that fizzled out halfway through as she started to laugh through it. Do you like me?

“What’s your favorite time and place you’ve been? And don’t say the ship we were on yesterday, I already know I made that one of the best days ever.” It was easier to have false bravado when she was smiling, and it helped push the unspoken question out of her head.
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Lark refuses to let the offhand comment distract them, instead narrowing in on the question with a considering hum. “Oh, that’s a difficult one. I don’t know if I have a true favorite. Maybe the clearing, as a resting place, but that’s probably disqualified if pirate times are off the table too.”

Their eyes narrow a little, their gaze going distant, and they chew lightly on the inside of their lip. Memories flash behind their eyes as they rifle through them, considering and discarding several in rapid order before landing on a few acceptable answers.

“Okay, top three.” They hold up three fingers, their smile surprisingly eager. They feel kind of silly, bragging about their adventures like a kid at show-and-tell, but it’s a fun kind of silly. The air is warm, with a slight breeze to offset the sticky summer heat, and they can feel something light and fizzy expanding in their chest when they breathe. It’s nice. “The Great Pyramid has to be up there. It’s pretty easy to get to a time before they put the restrictions in place, and the view after dark is absolutely worth the climb.”

One down. They fold their ring finger into their palm, leaving them with a slightly jittery peace sign. “Eiffel Tower, as well. I popped back to see the construction, actually, it’s pretty neat seeing it go up.” And it was criminally easy to hide a temporally-inappropriate sticker in one of the beams, but that’s neither here nor there. Another finger goes down, and they let their hand fall back to their side with a smile and a shrug. “And I’ll count the World’s Fair as its own trip. Maybe more than one, if you want to get technical about it.”

Considering that they made a point to visit all of the World’s Fairs while they were in France, definitely more than one. But she doesn’t need to know that. Or that they went back a few times, to see the parts that they didn’t poke around in before they got tired the first time.

They tuck their hands into their pockets and offer her a smile that's trying very hard not to be smug. They're clearly enjoying themself, watching her with their too-sharp eyes. “I can’t believe that was your burning question. I take it back, where’s the challenge?”

 
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Lily knew that it was a softball question, like asking someone their favorite movie, song, or food. Like anyone would, Lark sifted through their memories to find their favorite spot, and Lily could have sworn that she could see the emerald flashing in their eyes as they strolled down memory lane. She rolled her eyes good-naturedly as they insisted on only narrowing it down to the top three, but Lily supposed she could allow it. For them.

She let out a low whistle as Lark went through some of their favorite times. Lily could almost see them, their silver hair glinting in the moonlight as stared up at the stars, feet swinging in the air; secretly strolling through the half-built Eiffel Tower with a mischievous glint in their eyes, perhaps looking for some prank to set up against the unsuspecting construction workers. Not for the first time, she considered just how much difference there was between her and Lark. Lily may have been older (Was she? She didn’t actually know how old they were…), but Lark had almost certainly seen more, lived more in their time alive. No, she wasn’t gonna compare herself to them. She didn’t know their life, as much as she wanted to, and she shouldn’t compare the two. Lily pushed those thoughts out of her head to turn to the more pressing matter.

“Lark, I’m sorry. I don’t think I can be seen with you.” She said with mock severity. “Not one, but two of your favorite places you’ve been are French? That’s just a lot to take in, y’know?” Lily didn’t have a particularly strong poker face, and after mere seconds under Lark’s scrutinizing gaze it split, revealing the grinning visage underneath.

“You think you know a person.” Lily shook her head, a slight chuckle falling from her lips. “You want a challenge? Be careful what you wish for, Lark.” It was a question that she actually wanted the answer to, but had been worried it might make things awkward or worse, drive them away. But it was a start, a step in the right direction. God it was hot out today, Lily felt like she’d been running in a sweater, yet here she was in her usual running gear with Lark right there. No pressure.

“All this time travel, surely you met some interesting people.” Lily started, just about as casually as a suit and tie. “Any crushes? Flings? Sordid trysts?” She tried to exaggerate the last point, to give them a ripcord in case she made things too awkward or uncomfortable. Again.
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They blink, taken aback for half a second before the punchline rolls in. Then they huff, almost a laugh and almost a scoff, and roll their eyes. Their elbow bumps her arm reproachfully, but all they say is, “Mhm, take your time.”

While she thinks of her question, they turn their head slightly to watch the street. The mid-morning traffic is in full swing, but they’ve long learned to tune out the cars and pedestrians. Cities never sleep. Their gaze lingers on the way the sunlight reflects off of the silver roof of a hot dog stand across the way, then wanders to study a group of people sitting on the steps of a brownstone, chatting and enjoying the weather.

It really is a nice day out. Lark can’t seem to stop noticing it, now that they’ve noticed it the once, and they tug one hand out of their pocket just to turn it in the air, flipping it when the sun’s gentle baking starts to edge into burning. They don’t tend to spend a lot of time in days like this, but they’ve passed through more than a few. Sunburn is a hassle to deal with, though. Maybe they should circle back for sunscreen at some point.

They know they burn way too easily, for a southerner. She would always make fun of them for it, and then insist on cutting up the aloe plant for them anyways.

The thought surprises them with how easily it surfaces, but maybe it shouldn’t. Try as they might not to draw connections, there are too many overlapping touchpoints for them to avoid it forever. And besides, it isn’t like Lily needs to know anything about-

Their steps stutter, the conversational segue slamming into them with all the grace of a freight train, and for a wild moment Lark wonders if they had somehow been speaking their thoughts aloud. But no, when they turn to look at Lily she looks hesitant, expectant. Not like she already knows the answer. They look away quickly, unwilling to let her get a good look at the expression on their face. Two parts surprise, one part pain.

They laugh, but it’s quiet, almost strained. Stalling for time while their mind whirls. Because the thing is, they could lie. It isn’t difficult to stretch the truth from one to none, really. But some part of them feels that they owe her the truth. If only so she can look back on it, later, and put things in perspective. So that she can see this is just what they do, with the girls they get close to.

“Just the one, really,” they finally say, looking anywhere but at her. “Nothing to write home about. It was just for a summer, when I was sixteen. It’s kind of not a great idea to make ties in the past, so it was never going to last.”

Within their pockets, their fingernails dig into their thumbs, picking at old scars. They need to change the subject. Their eyes dart around, and land on the sign of a restaurant just a few yards in front of them. “Hey, do you wanna get breakfast? I’ve heard good things about this place.”

Complete lie, but they skip a few seconds forward to push through the door anyways, darting a glance over their shoulder to make sure she’s following.

 

Lily knew that she’d been girlbossing a little too close to the sun with that question, and she was almost ready to pull the ripcord herself. It would’ve been so easy to fire off a quick “just kidding” and throw out some other half-formed question that wasn’t so dangerous. Honestly, Lily had no idea why she’d even thought that would be fine to ask. She steeled herself, waiting for the glitch in their stride or expression that signaled Lark’s stepping into the space between seconds, probably to freak out at what a stupid fucking question she’d asked. They could’ve also just disappeared into a flash of green light, needing literal separation and another them to step in to finish this stupid conversation. She braced for the worst.

Lily just managed to hide her surprise as their steps faltered, naturally, and set back into a rhythm, not jerkily like they’d stopped time. No other Lark appeared to take the reins of the conversation, pushing the other out of the way with a smile that was both sheepish and all-knowing. Just a quick glance from them before they looked away. Lily had expected a lot of things from Lark, but an honest answer to that question was not one of them.

“I see,” was all that she could really say. She was too busy processing their response. They’d had a relationship in the past, literally in this case. But they’d known it wasn’t going to last. That’s what they’d said. A worried look ghosted across Lily’s face, momentarily furrowing her brow. Fortunately Lark appeared to be engrossed in the sights of the city. Did they…did they plan to leave? They’d started something before with the intent to leave after a bit, was she just another fling they’d tell some other person about further down the timeline?

No, don’t be ridiculous. This was Lark. Sure they disappeared intermittently, but they always came back. And even if they didn’t come back, Lily wasn’t even sure this could be considered a “fling” anyways. They hadn’t done anything that normal friends wouldn’t do. Right. This was all normal. Lark’s voice pulled Lily from her thoughts as they mentioned breakfast. She looked up in time to see them appear a little bit down the street. Lily jogged quickly to close the distance, reaching the door in a few strides.

“Holding the door for me? How chivalrous of you, Lark.” Lily forced out a little laugh, attempting to push any and all of her prior worries into the darkest corner of her mind. She may not have been quite dressed for it, but she had a breakfast date with a time traveler. And she intended to enjoy it.
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They have breakfast, and it’s fine. Lark shakes off whatever weird mood seized them somewhere between picking all the fruit off of their mini-waffles and building a tower of coffee creamers, and when the bill comes there’s already a future Lark waiting at the hostess stand, prompting them to grab Lily’s hand and whisk her back to her apartment in a wash of green. They tag a few more pieces of furniture with stickers while she changes, and then they go shopping.

Despite Lily’s accusations to the contrary, they don’t go overboard at all. They purchase a completely normal number of trinkets, stuffed animals, clothes, and gifts. (The siren song of the open-air market catches them in its undertow, and Lark can’t resist buying whatever catches Lily’s eye. They don’t regret a single cent, not even when the handles of the bags are cutting into their skin and their arms grow tired. It’s worth it to make her smile.)

The sun is setting by the time they stumble back to her apartment, and after dropping their bags in a corner of the kitchen they somehow end up on the couch, a paper container of chicken fried rice in hand as they squint at Lily’s television.

“So, wait, who’s this guy supposed to be again?” they wonder aloud, tilting their head to the side as though the new angle will help them with their unfortunately limited knowledge of the cast of Doctor Who. They couldn’t honestly say how they ended up watching a random episode of a show they’ve never seen, except that Lily seemed insistent that as a time traveler they should already have encyclopedic knowledge of their representation in pop culture, and really they don’t think they’ll ever have the heart to deny her anything.

They shuffle how their legs are crossed when their foot starts to fall asleep, nearly sending the (brand new and admittedly adorable) raccoon plush toppling from their lap and into the endless void. They catch it at the last moment, their hand shooting out and seizing it by the scruff of the neck. They take a moment to resettle it where its beady little eyes can see the screen, then resume their comfortable sprawl, their arm barely brushing Lily’s when they shift.

They aren’t getting distracted by that at all, nor by noticing how the parts of her hair that they braided have come undone and are now kinked in tight waves that sit distinct from the rest of her curls. They’re just watching the show, and occasionally taking bites of their food. (God, they’re awful at lying to themself. How have they ever fooled anyone?)

 

Breakfast was great, one of the best she’d had. Granted, that may have been less due to the protein-packed omelette that Lily had enjoyed and more due to the time traveler constructing a miniature Tower of Babel across from her. She counted at least seven levels before the waitress stopped bringing them more creamers once she realized that Lily wasn’t putting them in her iced coffee. She had just started to reach for her wallet when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Lily had just enough time to catch sight of a Lark at the hostess stand shooting her a finger gun before her Lark grabbed her hand and pulled her with them into the time stream.

One quick change (and at least two stickers placed, although Lily’s sure that Lark managed to hide at least double that in the time it took her), and Lark had whisked her away to an open-air market. Despite all her protests, Lark insisted that Lily’s money was no good here, and when she’d tried to pull her wallet out to pay regardless, she’d found it mysteriously missing. Lark said that she must have forgotten it at home, with a grin that told her exactly who was responsible for that.

Lily couldn’t be mad at Lark, even if she wanted to. She begged them to let her take at least some of the bags from them, but not even the argument of “that’s what my biceps are made for” was enough to sway them. In the end she conceded, as it would be easier to draw blood from a stone than to budge a Lark with their mind made up. Regardless of the amount of trinkets and rotund stuffed raccoons purchased, they ended up on her couch together. For some reason she’d decided to propose watching Doctor Who and now she was explaining the 50th anniversary special to them.

“He’s called the War Doctor. Basically imagine someone who’s tried helping and being nonviolent his whole life saying ‘fuck it’ and choosing to be a soldier instead.” She could’ve gone more in-depth, but that explanation was probably enough. Lily was hyper-aware of just how close Lark’s arm was to hers, and she barely shifted, casually adjusting herself to increase the amount of surface area in contact between the two of them. Just a little bit. Just enough that plausible deniability may have well been her best friend, should Lark have called her on it. Hopefully they didn’t.

“So you really haven’t watched a ton of time travel stuff? I would’ve thought you’d watch everything to make a ranking of how accurate it was.” At least that’s what Lily would’ve done. Maybe Lark was just more exciting than her. Then again, they did get suckered into watching an episode of British television with her, so how much more exciting could it really be? Maybe they were just more exciting together. Now that she could get behind.
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“Hmmm,” Lark hmm’s, consideringly. They can’t resist casting a brief glance over their shoulder, confirming that the apartment is still empty behind them. It is. They would’ve heard a certain twelve year old making their presence known.

“Yeah, that tracks.” They settle back, eyes back on the screen until Lily bumps into them. Their arm jolts, almost like a flinch, involuntary and immediately regretted for the way it ends the contact between them. Gah. Why are they still so jumpy around her? It’s been almost two days, and yet somehow they keep being caught off-guard.

That's it. They take another bite of chicken fried rice, then set it on the coffee table, the spoon sticking out of the container. All of their attention turns to fidgeting with it until it’s at just the right angle to not topple. “Nah, I don’t watch a lot of shows. Time travel or otherwise. I like… plays, I guess? Sometimes.”

A shrug of their shoulders, casual, and they lean back into the couch. Then, casually, deliberately, they slump into Lily, pressing their shoulders together. The light from the TV glows pale over their skin, catching in the silver of their hair as they tilt their head onto her shoulder, their other hand raising to cover a yawn.

“The TARDIS seems cool,” they continue, voice so low it’s almost drowned out by the patter of British voices from the speakers. “That’s totally not how my powers work though. I’ll have to drop it to B-tier, just for that.”

 

See? This was why plausible deniability was a fucking godsend. Lark jumped like a spooked horse as soon as her arm brushed against theirs, and Lily immediately shifted it back. They took a few moments to adjust their takeout container and spoon, while Lily mentally kicked herself. Was that too much? Did they have a thing about touching, where they had to be the one to initiate? God she thought she knew them but there was so much she hadn’t figured out.

Lily was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that it took her a moment to acknowledge the feeling of something against her shoulder. She didn’t really understand what it was until she felt a soft thud and a wave of hair brush against her. She tried not to stiffen, because it wasn’t just any thud, it was Lark’s shoulder against hers and holy shit they had their head resting on her shoulder.

Lily was fighting an internal battle against freaking out and losing. Badly. This normally was the other way around. She was the one who did the whole “yawn, stretch, put your arm over her shoulder” routine. She’d never really been in this position before. Lily didn't know how long she sat there, frozen. It felt like years, but was probably just a few seconds until her brain cells managed to bump against each other to make the spark that shook her out of her stupor. Moving slowly, Lily gently tilted her head down, and softly placed it on Lark's.

“Yeah,” she responded, her voice steady (she hoped) and as low as theirs. She wasn’t really paying attention to the show anymore. Instead most of her focus was directed towards the person beside her, focusing on their subtle movements, on the feeling of their head nestled under hers. “Plays, huh? Did you ever go see any of the big ones? Like Shakespeare, or uh. That guy with the gun? Or was it a razor?” Lily racked her brain for anything English class may have taught her.

“Maybe it was a cat?”
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It’s an effort to breathe normally. Their heart can’t seem to decide if they’re once more running from a tiger or about to drop off into slumber, and it is the strangest thing they’ve felt all day. Lark keeps their gaze focused somewhere on the middle distance, glancing up at the screen occasionally but otherwise letting the sound wash over them as they wait for Lily to settle or push them away. There’s no point in second-guessing now; they’ve already committed.

Five seconds pass in tense silence, broken only by a British man with sad eyes soliloquizing on the screen, before Lily’s head thunks gently against their own. Lark breathes out steadily, and says nothing. Another ten seconds pass before their heart settles and they trust themself to speak. “I think those are three different dudes.”

They’re smiling, they realize, as they turn their head in a slight shake, thinking it over. “I don’t even think Occam or Schrodinger are playwrights. Don’t quote me on that, though, I don’t know what they got up to in their free time.”

Vaguely, they realize that there’s something digging into their side. Glancing down without moving their head, Lark realizes that the poor stuffed raccoon has ended up squashed beneath them. It looks at them with beseeching black eyes, one of its tiny plastic hands outstretched towards them. They press their lips tightly together, bite the inside of their lip, and by the grace of God they do not ruin the moment with a laugh at the inanimate creature’s expense. The noise they make is more of a cough, a wheeze really, and taking pity on poor Rufus they carefully extricate him.

“But, yes, I saw some Shakespeare,” they continue, only slightly breathless as they hug the raccoon to their chest, ruffling its matted fur back into some semblance of order. “Took a lot of time-hopping to get back that far, though.”

They can’t really see her from this angle, which is a shame, but they nudge her knee with the back of a knuckle, a smile still tugging at their lips and sleep deepening their drawl, and ask, “Why, do you want to see the bard, miss Pond? I could probably take you. If you were interested.”

 
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