Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Knight Squad
Challenge/Prompt: beattheblackdog 129: Conniving
Word Count: 788
Date Written: 6 October 2018
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Nickelodeon, not the author, and are used without permission.
Sage sighed, her fingers combing through Buttercups’ soft, brown hair. She leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on her best friend’s, her only friend’s really, if she was honest with herself, forehead. Then her eyes lifted to the window and the world that waited just beyond it, the world that could be so cruel and which would never understand women like them. “Sometimes I wish we never had to leave here,” she whispered.
“Me too,” Buttercup spoke, surprising her.
“I thought you were asleep!”
“I know.” Buttercup’s eyes fluttered open, and she smiled up at her. “You’re never more honest,” she told her, “than when you think it’s just you and me, especially if you think I can’t hear you.”
“You sneaky, little, conniving -- “ Buttercup looked up at her through eyes full of innocence, and Sage sighed. The corners of her mouth, still bruised from battle the day before, lifted into a small grin. “I’m proud of you,” she confessed. “You’re learning.”
To her surprise, though, Buttercup didn’t beam long in her praise. “What are we going to do?” she asked softly. “I mean, about the others? You’re right. They’re never going to accept us.”
Sage sighed. “My own mother doesn’t accept me,” she admitted darkly. “But that’s okay. We don’t need anybody else.”
“We don’t?” her girlfriend asked in surprise.
Sage shook her head. “No,” she said firmly. “We don’t. All we need is each other.”
“But you do need me?”
“Of course.” Sage looked at her in surprise.
Buttercup shrugged. “It’s just . . . You’re always acting like you don’t need anyone.”
“That’s all it is,” Sage said quietly, surprising them both. “An act. I do need you, ‘Cup. I think I’m only beginning to realize how much I need you. But you . . . You keep me from going overboard. I could easily become like my mother, get whatever I want just because I enslave people with spells. But I don’t want to be like that. I want to be a Knight. I want to stand on my own two feet and earn what I have. Being like Mother is easy, but you make me want to be better. You make me want whatever I get in this world to mean something.” She blushed lightly, realizing how much she had confessed. It was the most she’d ever spoken about her feelings.
But Buttercup just smiled up at her. “You make me want to be better too,” she told her. She reached out, took her hand, and threaded their fingers together. “And we can be better together.”
“We are better together,” Sage told her, leaning down and kissing her full on her sweet, innocent lips. She was a far better person because she knew Buttercup. Buttercup kept her wanting to be a better person, not just the mean and ruthless individual she cast herself as in the outside world, but a truly better person. She knew what it was like to be good and to be loved because of this remarkable, young, and utterly innocent woman in her arms. She hoped Buttercup never lost that innocent, and she hoped she never lost Buttercup. If she did, all that would remain in her world was darkness.
Sage’s eyebrows lifted in question as Buttercup broke off their kiss. “You’re thinking too much again,” she said in a sing-song voice. “You need to stop thinking and just kiss me.”
“Really?” Sage asked, only one eyebrow lifted now.
“Really.” Buttercup nodded. “You told me to tell you when you were overthinking.”
“Or brooding,” she muttered, thinking, for another moment, of her mother. Nothing good ever came from brooding. Sage wondered if her mother had ever known true love. She doubted she had, because she didn’t even know who Sage’s father was. But she wasn’t going to be like her mother, Sage swore. She was going to be better, and Buttercup was going to help her to be that better person always. “Okay,” she said, grinning as Buttercup looked up at her. “Shutting up now.”
“You better,” Buttercup replied, but in a good nature. She was always in a good mood. She was the lightness to Sage’s dark. She was everything that was good and pure in Sage’s world, and the older they grew, the more Sage realized she needed her ‘Cup. She didn’t speak again. Instead she just kissed her, letting her lips linger as her tongue wrapped around Buttercup’s and danced with it. She’d always been better at actions anyway than words, and she let her actions talk for her again then, telling Buttercup how much she loved her, needed her, and would always be grateful for her with every kiss and caress that carried them long into the afternoon.