[Pokémon X&Y] Fanning the Flames

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Title: Fanning the Flames
Fandom: Pokémon X&Y
Pairing: Diantha/Malva
Rating: T
Summary: The thought that she was on Diantha's mind, that she was concerned with her, watching her carefully not like prey but like she was a lycanroc among a herd of wooloos, brought her a strange sort of satisfaction.
Notes: Written for the hAPPy birthday flash exchange. Why aren't there more fic for them honestly.
AO3 Link: Here.

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Malva stretched her back until it gave a satisfying crack. It had been a long, eventful day at the league, of the sort that she hadn't experienced in a long while. With the recent news of Diantha having been defeated – though her challenger, Calem, had ultimately turned down her offer to replace her as the Champion, preferring to continue his training journey in Galar – more and more trainers were showing up to attempt to dethrone her as well. Most of them didn't get very far, and Malva did have a lot of fun being as ruthless as she could toward the ones who'd choose to go against her first.

It also meant she tired herself out a lot quicker. She'd maintained appearances as best as possible, but her last few opponents had taken full advantage of her weakness, despite her efforts to compensate for it. At least putting all of herself into battling helped take her mind off of recent events.

Her involvement within Team Flare had remained tightly under wraps. She'd been interrogated nonetheless, because of her ties with its leader, and she could tell her colleagues were, if not suspicious, at least cautious. She tried her best to not let it bother her – and was largely successful.

Except when it came to Diantha.

She kept catching her staring, her icy blue eyes piercing right through her. It made her skin crawl, yet she also yearned for it, somehow. The thought that she was on Diantha's mind, that she was concerned with her, watching her carefully not like prey but like she was a lycanroc among a herd of wooloos, brought her a strange sort of satisfaction.

She left the personal break room next to her chamber and double-checked that she'd locked everything. She was usually the last one to leave, these days, if only because she enjoyed the peace and quiet. It wasn't uncommon for fans and trainers to try to catch Elite Four members as soon as they were off the clock, and she simply wasn't in the mood.

It used to be that she'd be the first out, and revel in all the attention she got, putting on her best TV persona. People would ask about her training regime, her careers in battling and reporting, her pokémons, her opinions on the latest fashion trends. Nowadays, all they wanted her to talk about was Team Flare, and there was nothing left to say.

Diantha hadn't asked her about it. She'd said she hoped Malva was alright, and she'd given her a little half-smile, and that was it. That, and the stares.

It was for the best. It was also frustrating. She wished Diantha would push, corner her and ask what she'd known, what she'd done and not done. She wished Diantha would frown, show any emotion beyond the calculated smile of an actress who knew better than to let her mask slip.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't even register that the lights of the main entrance were still fully on until she heard someone speaking. Malva froze. It could have just been one of the security guards starting up their first round, but she didn't want to take any risk. She slowed her pace and carefully walked up to the nearest corner.

"How did you even get in here?" a clear, warm voice said. Diantha's voice.

Malva leaned forward to see if she could catch what was going on, mindful not to accidentally disturb one of the art pieces on display in the hallway. She spotted Diantha standing near the entrance, holding something small and purple in her arms.

"No wonder some of the staff were reporting strange noises," Diantha went on. She gave whatever she was holding a good pet. "You must have been very scared. It's just a shame Drasna has already left..."

At that, the purple shape let out a high-pitched cry that resonated against the walls in long, drawn-out vibratos. As soon as it reached Malva, the pokémon – because it had to be a pokémon – opened two bright yellow eyes and glared at her. She swiftly retreated, knowing that it was too late.

"Who's there?" Diantha called out.

Malva took a deep breath. There was no escaping this; she wasn't about to flee through one of the emergency exits. What did she have to fear, anyway? This was what she'd been craving.

She stepped into view, her hands resting on her hips, feigning nonchalance. "You got me. I was just leaving."

Even an actress as good as Diantha couldn't fully suppress genuine surprise. It only lingered on her face for a few fleeting seconds before she once again affected perfect neutrality.

"Good evening," she said. To anyone else, her tone would have seemed cordial, but Malva remembered when their relationship was a lot warmer. "This little noibat ventured out of one of the caves and got stuck in here."

The little pokémon was indeed a fairly juvenile noibat. It looked tense, disoriented, and kind of thin. It blinked in her direction and then hid its face in the crook of Diantha's elbow, which did manage to get a smile out of her.

"Do you know if the pokémon center is closed by now?" Malva asked. She could act professionally and be helpful. The same way she was with Diantha all the time.

It was being alone with her that was throwing Malva off-balance. It occurred to her that they'd both been very careful not to end up in that situation before. She wondered if Diantha was coming to the same realization – though maybe "realization" was the wrong word. To the same reluctant spark of self-awareness, then.

"Probably," Diantha said. She looked down, at the trembling figure of the little noibat, afraid and far away from home, and Malva could see she was making a decision. "I do have the keys for the whole facility. If you'd help me set up the machines for the night, we can let the nurses take over in the morning."

Malva chewed on her bottom lip. Not for the first or last time, she was grateful that the lenses of her shades could mask some of her expression.

"It might get lost or hurt if we release it," Malva mused. "And I don't particularly want to go through Victory Road in the middle of the night." She shook her head. "Right. Let's go."

Without bothering to wait for Diantha's answer, she made her way to the center. All the lights were indeed turned off. She pretended to look up something on her holo-caster while Diantha busied herself with unlocking the doors.

Neither of them had any training, but they'd both watched their pokémons go through the motions of healing and check-ups to know enough to at least ensure the noibat would be fed, cured of any ailments, and safe. There were devices at the back of the building that were set up for medical emergencies, including unplanned hatchlings or stray pokémons too young to be left alone once found. Malva still remembered a very unusual incident where dozens of newborn pokémons had been released at once near the main building, causing an admittedly entertaining mess. They'd ended up giving them all away for adoption, which proved popular once it turned out they all had amazing potential for battling. The culprit of the mass release had never been found.

The sudden silence took Malva out of her memories. Diantha was looking over the readings and dials of the machine she'd put the noibat in. She was going for casual, yet for once her acting was surprisingly lacking. Malva opened her mouth to say something about that, something she was definitely going to regret – but Diantha beat her to the punch.

"You seem tense," she said. Her tone was still as neutral as ever, and she wasn't looking at Malva, which was infuriating. "Today was a lot, wasn't it?"

Casual small talk shouldn't have felt like this. A sudden burst of anger breached the surface of Malva's restraint, and she flinched like she'd been hit.

"Really? That's your line?" She gritted her teeth. It was too late to take back the frustration in her voice. "I thought we were finally going to have a heart-to-heart."

Diantha's eyebrows barely hitched up. She didn't turn around. "I didn't know we had anything to talk about."

"Oh, of course not." Malva scoffed. Bitterness weighed heavily on her tongue. "Everything's dandy, nothing's amiss. You haven't been channeling your hawlucha and keeping an eye on me like I'm a bomb about to explode. That's all in my head."

"If you've got something to confess," Diantha said, and this time Malva could hear a hint of annoyance in the way she nearly hissed the words out, "I'm all ears. This can stay between us."

These words, above anything else, cut through Malva like she'd been stabbed in the heart. Her mouth twisted into something between a smirk and a snarl. Her balled-up fists – she didn't even remember doing that – began to shake.

She'd heard that line before. An encounter after a busy party, a kiss stolen behind a folding screen in an actress' dressing room. Skin that tasted like expensive foundation and perfume. Whimpers and moans muffled into the shimmering fabric of a long, intricate dress. A lipstick stain left at the very edge of her jaw, wiped off in a rush.

It did stay between them. At the time, Malva thought she'd resented it, but, in truth, there was nothing to resent. Diantha would argue that their careers made these things too complicated, that she couldn't handle juggling acting, battling, and answering questions about her love life. It made sense. Nobody in Kalos was as busy as Diantha was. She had an image to cultivate. You couldn't be Kalos's beloved ingénue if you actually turned out to be dating one of your flashiest colleagues.

Not to mention, Malva had no desire to go through the rigmarole of having to justify their relationship, either. It was simpler, more thrilling. It made her feel young again, meeting up in secret, fucking like they were about to be found out at any moment.

It made things easier when it came to everything that went on after, too: she had nothing to be held accountable for. She just had to keep her mouth shut. She'd become very adept at keeping things to herself.

The quiet buzz of the machine filled the room. Inside, the little noibat had curled up against one of the glass walls and was sleeping propped up in the corner. Diantha was still looking at it.

"Why beat around the bush?" Malva asked. She didn't like the obvious hurt in her voice, but it was too late to repress it. "You can just ask me directly. You never had any issue with that before."

Diantha closed her eyes for a few seconds. Her expression, reminiscent of a parent fed up with their child's antics, only served to fuel Malva's own anger.

"You've already been interrogated. The consensus has been coercion, if I recall..."

"But you don't really believe that, do you?" Malva took a step toward her, much too aware that she'd never get the satisfaction of seeing her flinch. "What do you think? Are you worried? Are you hurt? Are you scared?"

This time, Diantha turned toward her. Her features remained neutral, yet there was a hint of something in the light blue of her eyes that made Malva want to keep pushing.

"You're always watching me," she went on, "monitoring me, like you're afraid I'm going to snap at any moment, and do what? Hurt someone?" Malva shook her head. She'd gotten close enough that if she'd wanted to, she could have grabbed Diantha by the shoulder. "I know you don't trust me–"

"What did you expect?" Diantha cut her off. She let her gaze fall toward the white tiles beneath them. "This has been... Difficult, to say the least. I keep thinking about all the time we..." She frowned, at last, her beautifully carved eyebrows drawing together. "Do you trust me, Malva?"

The question seemed to echo against the white walls of the pokémon center. Malva's skin felt cold, suddenly, though she didn't shiver. Instead, and before she could second-guess herself, she took one last step and cupped Diantha's cheek to press her lips against hers.

Her lipstick smelled the same. The faintest scent of raspberries. Her mouth was soft, relenting, much more willing to surrender control than she would have thought. Diantha let out a sharp little gasp and gripped Malva's arm hard, though she didn't pull away.

It felt like so many times before, and yet it was like nothing they'd ever gone through. Malva's hand slid down until she was holding Diantha by the back of her neck, feeling the racing pulse of her heart under her thumb. They kissed like they were reuniting after having been apart for months, which felt closer to the truth than Malva wanted to admit. Diantha made a sound when Malva's glasses dug into her forehead, and they broke away from each other just long enough so that she could take them off.

A kiss wasn't an apology, nor was it a reconciliation. Maybe, in some ways, it could be a truce. Diantha's back hit the machine's glass front as Malva kept pushing until they were pressed together.

The noibat let out a displeased screech that made the glass vibrate and took them out of their trances.

"Sorry," Diantha mumbled. She seemed dazed, which really made her look like that ingénue everyone loved so much.

Malva snickered. She'd let go of Diantha's neck to put her palms up against the glass, her sunglasses tucked into the front of her shirt. She could vaguely see in the corner of her eye that the pokémon had already gone back to sleep in that weird upright position.

Diantha's glossy nude lipstick had smeared all over her mouth. It made Malva want to kiss her more, to wipe away the artifice. She felt lighter, suddenly, free from some of the anger that had been plaguing her ever since everything that had happened.

"I'm not asking you to understand," she murmured. Diantha's eyes met hers, and they were no longer cold and cautious, though she could see some of that reluctance remained. "You don't even have to trust me." Without her shades, Malva couldn't shake the feeling that she was too vulnerable. Still, she persevered. "I miss you."

"I miss you too," Diantha said, her mouth twitching as if hesitating between a smile and a frown. "I know I haven't been very fair to you in the past..."

Malva grimaced. "Let's say we haven't been very fair to each other." It was a grievous understatement, but it would do. "We can talk about it. We can–" She looked around, at the white room full of shelves and apparatuses made to heal pokémons. Her grimace deepened. "We can probably do that somewhere else."

For the first time in a very long time, Diantha granted her one of her signature sultry smiles, the ones she reserved for her money-making shots.

"My place or yours?"

Smiling back at her, Malva promised herself that she would ensure that stray noibat would get all the care it needed, and more than that. Maybe she'd even adopt it and ask Drasna how to take care of it. Whatever it was, it'd pale in comparison to what that little creature had helped her accomplish that night.