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and get yourself free

Summary:

Lucy doesn't think it's going to last. The noble thing to do would be to set Amy free.

Amy has other ideas.

Notes:

Work Text:


Adrenaline was still buzzing through Lucy's veins as she steered her car along the gentle curves of the highway. They were about fifteen minutes away from the private airfield where Lucy's fueled-up jet awaited. Beside her in the passenger seat, Amy was almost asleep, snuggled up against Lucy's shoulder. She'd drifted off almost as soon as they'd left city limits, her eyelashes fluttering closed. Probably hadn't been sleeping well lately.

As she drove, Lucy tried to breathe deeply and relax. It had hurt when Amy abandoned her, but she'd never given up hope that Amy would realize it was a mistake. Seeing Amy again tonight had only strengthened Lucy's resolve. It had stung to listen to her speech condemning Lucy as an evil mastermind, but watching Amy robotically recite the words was somehow even worse. She'd looked hollowed-out, like a talking doll, her usual spark gone. Even the other DEBS had seen it. At the end of the day, they'd known that if they really cared, they needed to let Amy go.

The lights of the airfield glimmered in the distance. Lucy slowed, turning onto the unmarked side road. The guards at the perimeter scanned the car, then raised the security gate to let them enter the restricted area. One last perk of being a villain, Lucy thought with a sigh, and pulled to a stop at the far end of the parking lot. Reaching down, she brushed a blonde lock of hair out of Amy's face.

"Are we there yet?" Amy smiled sleepily as she opened her eyes.

"Almost," Lucy said. Leaning down, she kissed Amy's forehead. Amy's expression as Lucy raised her head again made her insides feel like chocolate fondue.

Amy sat up straighter, glancing around, though there wasn't much to see from the outside. "What now?"

"Whatever we want," Lucy said, and grinned. Extending a hand, she led Amy into the building and past the security checkpoint to the members-only lounge. "Wait here-- I'll check in with our pilot."

Amy dropped into a comfortable loveseat and saluted. "Aye aye, Captain Diamond.”


The night was almost silent except for the faint sound of crickets. The quiet and calm was a welcome change, and Lucy felt herself finally start to relax. Approaching the open hangar where her jet waited, she heard the sound of metal-tipped heels clicking on concrete, sharp and deliberate.

Lucy froze.

"Well, well," purred a familiar voice, rich with amusement. "Lucy Diamond, reformed. I wouldn't have believed it."

Lucy turned, trying to keep her face expressionless, unsurprised. She hadn't seen Minerva in over a year, but as her ex-girlfriend stepped dramatically out of the shadows, it seemed as if nothing much had changed. Minerva's dramatic makeup was perfect, her dark pixie cut was meticulously styled, and Lucy guessed that she was probably wearing at least three knives; there was definitely one strapped to her thigh, accessible through a high slit in the skirt of her dress, and probably one slipped down into the front panels of the corset-style bodice. She was wearing a long-sleeved black bolero jacket with fur trimming her cuffs and collar, and Lucy supposed she had a knife up her sleeve as well. As Min approached, dark eyes focused on Lucy, she was as elegant and dangerous as a panther.

"What are you doing here?" Lucy said.

Minerva looked Lucy up and down. "Had to see this for myself. So tell me— is it for real?"

"Yes," Lucy said, "It is."

"Oh, really? You've changed? Lucy Diamond has seen the light?"

"Yes," Lucy repeated, knowing that she was being baited, but unable to keep herself from engaging. "I have. You wouldn't understand."

"Oh, really, Lucy. People don't change," Minerva said. "You've just realized what everyone else already knew; you were always a second-rate villain."

"I was not!" Lucy exclaimed, and Min arched one perfectly plucked brow. "I mean, not that I care—"

"Yes, yes. I think this is a really good choice for you," Min said with every appearance of sincerity. "Some people just keep battering their head against the wall, never accepting that they're on the wrong path. And honestly, Luce— I hope you do find the right one. Something less challenging. You won't have Scud around to do your homework any more."

That wasn't fair or true and they both knew it, but Lucy knew it was pointless to argue with Min when she was like this. "Always gotta stick the knife in, don't you?"

"Lucy, if I wanted to hurt you, I'd be giving the same advice to your little blonde kitten."

"You don't know her! Don't talk about her."

Minerva rolled her eyes. "I don't have to know her; I've known a hundred girls like her. Leaving the DEBS, running off to play house or hit the clubs or adopt cats or whatever you two have planned— it's all repressed teenage rebellion, a textbook phase. She'll get over it. Maybe she won't go back to the DEBS— but do you really think she'll stay with you? Think about it, Luce— I'm telling you this as a friend."

"We're friends now?" Lucy said. "You ditched me in Australia! You ghosted me! Remind me again, why you care what I do?" She set her jaw, finally turning to look Minerva right in the eyes. "I think you can’t handle that I’m moving on." It was almost surreal. Lucy had imagined this encounter so many times, coming up with scenario after scenario where she ran into Minerva again and gave a speech about how she'd moved on. How she was finally free. She'd never imagined that she'd be telling the truth. "I don't care what you say. I'm over you. I don’t even think about you anymore."

Minerva took a slow step forward, her voice low. "Oh, really, Lucy? The fact is, you're throwing away your whole life for a total fantasy. That girl fell for Lucy Diamond. Do you think she's going to stick around for plain old Lucy Reynolds?" She scoffed. "Wake up, darling. You're dreaming."

"Then I'm dreaming," Lucy said, crossing her arms.

"Then I suppose she'll be the one who has to end it," Minerva said, almost sweetly. "Just like I had to. Take my advice, Lucy. Don't make it so hard for your princess. She'll wake up eventually, and when she does... well, you always were needy. If you really love her, you won't make it all about you. Get over yourself and let her go." With that, she turned, heels echoing across the hangar floor as she walked away.

Lucy swallowed hard, watching her leave. However it had started, her feelings for Amy were real, and Lucy knew they were returned— but feelings alone couldn't keep a relationship from falling apart. If they could, Lucy wouldn't have almost blown up Australia. (Twice.)

Maybe Minerva had a point. No one needed to tell Lucy how easy it was to keep chasing adrenaline and danger, once you'd gotten a taste for it. Her supervillain career had started as vengeance, but once you started winning, well, you had to raise the stakes, didn't you? She'd craved new challenges, bigger heists, more daring escapes. But the excitement hadn't lasted, and if Lucy were being honest, she'd been looking for an exit strategy for some time. Min had been right about that, at least— it hadn't really been the life she wanted.

Lucy tried to tell herself that it would be different with Amy, but she wondered. Could their relationship survive, after the excitement faded? Now that all she could offer was... an everyday life? Would it be enough?

As Lucy headed for the small office at the back of her hangar where her private pilot was waiting, she decided Min was right about one more thing. Amy Bradshaw had spent her whole life lying, even to herself, and Lucy had seen how unhappy Amy could make herself, forcing herself to continue on a course that wasn't right for her any more. Lucy would have to keep her eyes open. She wasn't going to be like the DEBS leaders, piling on guilt and shame and obligation to keep Amy locked down in a life she didn't want. If Amy was unhappy— it would be Lucy's job to let her go. She'd have to be ready.


Out in the distance, against a horizon as flat and featureless as a tabletop, the last hints of color drained from the sky. Amy stood in the departure lounge and watched intently through a floor-to-ceiling glass window. She was trying to fight her instincts to study and classify the other passengers scattered around the lounge, but all her years of training couldn't just be switched off. And to be fair, some of them were pretty eye-catching.

Over at the bar, for example, there was a dark-skinned woman in a black leather bustier with cut-glass cheekbones and a wicked knife strapped to her hip. Amy couldn't quite tell if she was threatening the bartender or flirting with him. Her companion, a raffishly handsome man in a black suit, was watching with interest. Amy tried not to think like an agent, tried not to profile their body language: was he jealous, encouraging or competitive? Were they lovers, friends, maybe bodyguard and client? As Amy watched, the man leaned over and said something that made the bartender visibly blush.

She looked away. Across the room, there was a long gas fireplace, surrounded by loveseats and chairs. Taking up an entire small couch, her lean, muscled arms draped over the back, was another dark-haired woman— and when exactly, Amy wondered, had the world suddenly become full of impossibly beautiful women? This girl was younger, less glamorous but equally alluring, wearing black jeans and a low-cut tank top. Her dark lipstick drew attention to a lush, sullen mouth. And... was that a sword leaning against the back of the couch, its hilt just within her grasp?

Suddenly, the other girl looked up. It was too late to look away, and their eyes locked. The other girl stared her down, stone-faced— then winked. Amy startled hard, and the other girl's eyes crinkled in amusement.

"Making friends?" Lucy asked, appearing out of nowhere. Amy blushed, but Lucy was just smiling knowingly.

"I just..." Amy stepped close, whispering into Lucy's ear. "I think there are a lot of people with really big knives in this airport."

"You have no idea," Lucy muttered, frowning, then shook her head. Stepping close, she curled her arm around Amy's, turning so that they stood side by side. She pointed at a small, sleek greyish shape in the distance. "That's our ride," she said, and Amy's heart leaped.

"Where are we going?"

"Well," Lucy said, and took a sudden sharp breath, "I guess that's up to you." Taking Amy's hand, she tugged her a few steps away into a small nook, where a tall carved screen and some potted plants gave them some privacy.

She pulled Amy down to sit next to her, dark eyes searching Amy's face. "The thing is, I don't have to come with you," she started, her voice low but steady. "Or I guess you don't have to come with me."

"What do you mean?"

Lucy pulled her hand out of Amy's, hunching forward and looking away. "I mean, you're not a DEB any more No more surveillance, no more rules, no more... duty. You could go anywhere, do anything. This is your chance to be... free. I just want you to know that you don't... you're not obligated to stay with me."

Amy didn't know what to say. Over the past few weeks, Max and Janet had told her over and over again that Lucy could never be trusted, that she wasn't dependable like the DEBS were. Even Dominique had lectured her that women like Lucy only toyed with people's hearts, that they could never really love. She had never believed them. Even when she'd agreed to give Lucy up, she'd known they were wrong. But now— Her eyes stung, and she blinked quickly. "Lucy, I..." she said, her voice faltering. "If you don't... I thought that was why... Why did you come back, if you don't want us to be together?"

A sad smile hovered on Lucy's lips. "I do want that! I just want you to be sure."

"Of course I'm sure," Amy said. "I could have been the perfect score, the top agent— I didn't want it!"

Lucy flinched. "I get it— you don't want that life! But does that mean you want me? I don't want you to feel obligated. I want you to think about it, really think—"

"You know, I've had about enough of people telling me what to do and how to think."

"That's the opposite of what I'm doing! I just— I want you to have the choice!"

"Sure. I guess I deserve this," Amy said, taking a deep breath. "I never meant to hurt you, but I know I did—"

"Amy, this isn't punishment!"

"Then I don't understand what it is!" Amy said, her voice cracking with the effort it took to not shout.

"I'm trying to do what's right!" Lucy insisted, but Amy's head was spinning. Driving away from the gala, something in her had finally relaxed. She hadn't realized before, how tightly wound she'd been, the tension a constant companion, day and night. Even during those dreamy days when she'd been playing hooky with Lucy, she'd been braced against the inevitable end.

She hadn't been braced for this. It was hitting her like a wrecking ball.


The memories flashed into her mind at odd moments after she returned to the DEBS, triggered by certain scents and shades of color, by the sound of laughter, by half a dozen inescapable pop songs— by anything and everything, it seemed like. Amy hadn't realized that she'd been trying to memorize every detail of every moment, but of course she had been. The squawk of Lucy's laughter when you really got her with a joke, her lovely slim feet with one crooked pinky toe. The way she'd lolled her head back trustingly against Amy's shoulder as Amy brushed her hair for her... Somewhere deep in the most guarded part of her soul, she'd known she was dreaming, and soon enough, she'd have to wake up. All she'd have then would be the memories. The scent of Lucy's body wash. Reflected candlelight gleaming on skin still wet from the shower. Long drives to nowhere, singing along to the radio, Lucy steering the car expertly with one hand while the thumb of her other hand traced the pulse in Amy's wrist. Every tender touch. Every secret smile.

Amy remembered one of those long, golden evenings that had felt like they could stretch on forever. They’d been sprawled across the expanse of Lucy’s stupidly oversized bed, indie rock humming softly through the speakers of Lucy's stereo. Amy had been holding a slice of pizza just over Lucy’s face, grinning wickedly.

"I cannot believe you've never even tried pineapple on pizza!" Amy teased, waving the offending slice closer.

Lucy had scrunched her nose in mock horror, her hand on Amy’s wrist to hold her off. "Because I know I won't like it!"

"You don't know until you try," Amy argued, but leaned back. She took a bite and chewed, smiling. "Mm, mm. You're just scared to live a little."

Lucy's lips curved in that wry way that always made Amy’s heart flutter. "I'm scared to live a little? Excuse me, which of us is the most wanted criminal on four continents?"

"Very glamorous, very exciting. And yet here we are: staying in, eating pizza, listening to your late-night chill vibes mixtape."

"Hey, even high-octane master criminals need downtime! You can’t be jumping out of planes, cracking vaults, and taunting sexy spies all the time."

Amy laughed. "Lucy, I'm kidding!"

"I know, I know!" Lucy said. Sliding off the bed, she hopped to her feet, extending a hand. "But what do you say we shake things up anyway? Head out to the club, cause some trouble?"

"I don't dance," Amy said automatically.

Lucy just smiled and shrugged. "Your call, Ames." She reached out, snagging the pizza box and pulling it out of Amy's reach with a grin. "But first, admit I'm not boring."

"All right, all right, you're not boring!" Amy said, laughing and grabbing for the pizza box. She hadn't meant the accusation seriously, so she couldn't imagine that Lucy had taken it seriously, but— now that she looked back, she could see the pattern. The way Lucy had always asked what she wanted to do, tried to keep her busy and engaged. At the time Amy had just gone with it. She hadn't wanted any downtime either. She hadn't wanted time to think. Now she realized that deep down, Lucy had been afraid Amy would get bored.


Amy’s chest tightened as the memory faded. So it was true, then. Lucy had wanted her to stay. And she still did.

She just didn't believe that Amy would.

Frowning, she looked up at Lucy, standing just out of arms' reach, framed by the dark window of the airport lounge. The stars were coming out behind her. "Do you think I'm going to get bored with you?"

"No!" Lucy insisted, obviously lying. Amy stared her down. "Okay, yes!"

"How could you think—"

"Because that's how it always goes!" Lucy hissed. "People think it's going to be— adrenaline, danger, drama, and then I'm not that person, and they leave!" She turned, taking a few steps away. When she turned back, her eyes were fixed on a point just past Amy's shoulder, and her voice was almost too calm. "What we had was great, but... honestly, I'd..." Her voice wobbled. "I'd rather see you leave and be happy than stay and be unhappy."

"I walked away from everything for you," Amy protested.

"No," Lucy said. "You did it for you, and that's good, because it wasn't right for you—!"

"And this is, I know it is! Lucy, I was happy with you! I am happy with you," Amy immediately corrected herself, but Lucy just nodded, like one slip of the tongue had confirmed all her worst fears. "Lucy!"

"I'm going," Lucy said. "You can come. But please— wait a while, okay? Please think about it first."

The reality of what was happening sank in as Lucy turned and started walking away. Trembling, Amy took a shaky breath. Part of her was screaming: go after her, fight for her, tell her you love her! But another part kept her silent and still, wondering: would it be any use? Would there be any way to get through to Lucy, to really convince her? Or were they going to be stuck like this forever, with Lucy always doubting and Amy not knowing how to reassure her?

And if that was going to be their future... did Amy really want it?


Lucy was moving on autopilot as she made her way out of the airport lounge. She couldn't get that last terrible look on Amy's face out of her mind. She let out a shaky breath, wiping a hand over her eyes discreetly. Maybe she was reformed, but she didn't do vulnerability. She didn't do regret. She was doing something noble. That should make it hurt less, right? Yeah, right. Her breath was clouding into mist in the chilly night air as Lucy stepped forward, heading for her jet. It was the right thing to do, she told herself. Let the dream stay the dream. The urge to look back clawed at her guts, but she kept walking, face set in a stoic mask. She was almost to the plane. She hoped Scud had stocked the bar.


Aboard the jet, Lucy dropped into one of the egg-like seats, choosing the far side of the plane so that she wouldn't be tempted to look back and see if Amy was coming.

She hastily grabbed a magazine and buried her face in it as the cockpit door opened. The pilot was a buddy of Scud's who could fly a jet and had a mostly-clean record. She nodded at his introduction and mumbled an assent to the flight plan, avoiding his eyes and wishing that he'd just go away. Soon enough he finished his little speech, then glanced at the open hatch behind Lucy. Walking over, he retracted the extendable stairs, latching them in place, then closed the door with a solid thunk. Returning to the front of the plane, he closed the cockpit door with a quiet click. Lucy was alone again.

Finally she could let her tears spill over. The engines started to hum, roaring to life, and Lucy gasped gratefully. At least she didn't have to hear herself cry. Gripping the armrests, she tried to imagine what might come next. She could learn to sail, disappear into the blue horizon. No rules, no expectations. Just Lucy and the endless ocean, a road to wherever she wanted to go. As often as she'd dreamed of that future, it felt strangely hollow now.

A loud thump echoed through the cabin, and Lucy tensed. The sound had come from the nose of the plane, like they'd hit something. A bird, this low? Or were they being attacked?

She reached for the small gun she kept strapped to her ankle, curling her fingers around it, and listened. The plane lurched suddenly to the left, and there was a different thud, like something hitting the windshield, and the pilot shouted something Lucy couldn't make out. She unbuckled her seatbelt hastily as the plane began to slow, and then there were three successive hard, cracking impacts, each one louder than the last. The cockpit door slammed open as the plane's engines powered down completely and the brakes engaged, sending Lucy lurching forward onto her hands and knees. The pilot shouldered past Lucy hastily, disappearing as he locked himself into the private sleeping area at the back of the plane.

"The hell—?" Lucy lifted her head. She could see a bright blue shape through the cracked windshield. "Amy?"

With one more loud crack, the windshield finally shattered. Amy ducked and rolled inside, her hair wildly disheveled. She rose from a crouch in front of the empty cockpit, broken glass scattered around the floor of the cabin.

Lucy stared. "Is that a sword?"

"I borrowed it," Amy said, hoisting the heavy sword in one hand, then scrunched up her face thoughtfully. "Well— I kind of stole it. Pretty dramatic, huh? Kicking down doors, hijacking vehicles?" She stepped forward, jabbing her sword accusingly at Lucy, still down on one knee in the wide aisle. "Did you really think you were going to ditch me that easily?"

Lucy exhaled, feeling a wild, reckless hope start to bloom. "I guess not?"

"You guess?" Amy demanded, and started closing the distance between them, still dragging the sword behind her. "Lucy. I love you. And I can promise you one thing— even if I'm not a spy and you're not a villain, our lives will never be boring."

She let the sword fall, clattering among the broken glass, and held her hand out to Lucy.

"We might need a new getaway plan," Lucy said, taking her hand and letting Amy pull her to her feet. "I think my pilot just quit."

"I like it better when you drive, anyway," Amy said with a shrug, and Lucy finally broke, stumbling forward and clutching at Amy desperately. Amy dropped the sword and held on just as tightly. "I promise, I want this," Amy whispered. "I want you, Lucy. I don't care where we go, or what we do. As long as we're together."

"All right then," Lucy said, and laughed, tension and fear dissolving as Amy held her close.

"Do you believe me?" Amy said, pulling back and looking deeply into Lucy’s eyes.

"I believe you," Lucy said, and it was true. Taking a deep breath, she slipped both her hands into Amy's and squeezed. "Well, come on, then. Let's hit the road.”