Are You Game?

Title: Orbit
Author/Artist: lythdan
Rating: T for implied sexual situations
Warnings: character death
Word count: 2035
Prompt: Lana/Mia: parting ways - until we meet again
Summary: Lana reflects on her relationship with one Mia Fey.

A/N: I originally wrote this in the '5 times when...' style from Mia's point of view, but then realised I don't write Lana's POV often enough.

So this happened.



Lana was a distant planet in Mia's orbit, or that's how it had felt at first. Mia had this sort of magnetism about her, the kind that made everybody want to be her friend, and even Lana wasn't resistant to the pull of Mia Fey.

It was funny, in a way, how long it took them to start talking.

One of the smart-alecs in their shared class had laughed when Mia had put up her hand to answer a question. “Oh, hey, Lana,” he'd said, “leave some for the rest of the class!” Lana had flushed, embarrassed, but of course Mia had a witty response on her lips.

“Hey, Daniel, it's not our fault if you have trouble telling us apart!”

The guy's name was actually David, but at that moment, it hardly mattered. It might've been a joke at her own expense, but it caused Lana to really look at Mia Fey for the first time to identify these shared traits of theirs. The superficial things were clear to her from the outset: long brown hair, brown eyes, the same sense of fashion … with a pang of mortification, Lana realised they were wearing almost the same outfit. But that was where their similarities ended. Where Mia's eyes were kind and warm, Lana's gaze had a sort of flinty edge to it; she'd been called 'intimidating' a handful of times, although she'd never felt it, not really. Mia's body had soft curves where Lana wanted to bury her face; Lana, on the other hand, had always been a little bit too skinny.

Wait. Backtrack. Where had that other thought come from?

It was only when Mia's face lit into a smile that Lana realized she'd been staring far too long. Mia, thankfully, didn't tease too much. “I'd tell you to take a picture, but how about we grab a coffee instead?”

If Lana had to pin it down to a specific moment, she would choose that moment in time as the one wherein she'd started to really fall for Mia Fey. It was a pity that they would never get to be together, at least, not really. But that was reality for a planet orbiting the sun.

–

See, the problem was that Mia was never ready for a serious relationship, at least, not in the way that Lana had wanted. Mia was never short on compliments; she loved telling Lana how sexy she was, how much fun she was to hang out with. However, Lana knew that her feelings for Mia were something deeper than that, stronger, more...intellectual. She wanted to pick Mia's brain on everything under the sun. Unfortunately, Mia rarely hung onto Lana's every word in return. But there were moments, fleeting glimpses, where Lana thought that Mia might actually be on the verge of reciprocating her feelings.

And then Lana's parents died; there one minute and gone the next. Lana became the who did not have the time, the energy, the motivation to put into a relationship. Before she knew it, she'd lost Mia too. She turned into the night-time of her life.

--

It had taken Lana almost two years to recover somewhat from the dark cloud her parents' passing had cast over her. The next time she'd caught up with her old friend, Mia had actually looked hurt. It had devastated Lana to think that she might be responsible for such a reaction, but after everything that had happened she barely felt in control of her own life. But then, Lana performed one of Mia's favorite tricks and turned things around.

She asked Mia if she wanted to grab a coffee.

The way they talked in the cafe later reminded Lana of that first coffee, several years ago, where she'd really just listened to Mia talk and let her passion shine like stars. Mia spoke so fiercely of her love for justice and for her desire to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. Lana had never seen the appeal of the defense attorney's path until that conversation, but when Mia described it, it just made sense.

Even though they'd never caught up face-to-face in those intervening years, Lana still had some knowledge of what had happened in Mia's life and that she'd recently had her first case. It was when they started talking about Mia's courtroom debut that Mia's gaze dropped, staring as though it could cut a hole through the table. “I need something stronger to take the edge off.” She'd grasped Lana's hands in one of her own. “Drinks?”

And even though Lana had half-expected Mia to suggest some downtown bar, popular with underpaid twenty-somethings, she didn't complain when Mia took her to her apartment instead, fumbling with her keys as Lana waited by her side in the cold, watching her breath hang in the air in front of her. Once they were inside, Mia opened a bottle of wine plucked from somewhere Lana wasn't looking. Their glasses were both full when Mia started telling Lana the tale of her first trial. When she finished, they'd been emptied thrice-over.

“So, yeah,” Mia concluded with a cloudy look in her eyes, “I'm not sure I'm really cut out for this.”

Lana thought it was strange for Mia to expose her feelings like this; Lana had always felt like the vulnerable one. “You are,” she replied firmly. “If not you, then who else?” Before she could stop herself, she leaned in to press a soft kiss against Mia's lips. “The world needs people like you, Mia.” I need someone like you.

Mia sighed audibly as Lana retreated from the kiss, and stared to trace a finger up her arm. “Before we do anything, I should tell you that I've started to see someone.”

Lana could tell from the way that Mia ducked her head to the side that she was actually starting to really like this 'someone', that perhaps they were in that stage of the relationship she and Mia had been in back when they'd tried dating. “But it's nothing serious.”

“We're not exclusive or anything, no,” Mia answered, and it reminded Lana of old times, the separation of the physical and the emotional. Mia had even admitted it once: she had a wall there, a wall that prevented her from getting close to others. But when Lana had questioned it further, Mia had deflected all her questions. “But we'll just see where things go.”

She had forsaken any claim she'd had on Mia a long time ago, insofar as it was possible to claim another human being. But she would be a liar if she said she wasn't jealous. She lowered her head, breath tickling her ex-lover's skin. “So that means I still get to do this?” The question was followed up by a demonstration, a kiss against Mia's neck.

Mia groaned, her hands slipping under the hem of Lana's shirt. “If you keep doing that, I won't be able to stop myself.”

“Good.” Another kiss. “I don't want you to.”

–-

Waking up the next morning was a disorienting experience; it wasn't the unfamiliar surroundings, nor the fact that she was wearing nothing but one of Mia's old t-shirts. It was Mia's face, wide-awake, next to her, biting her lip as she peered at a message on her phone. “It's Diego,” she said, once she noticed that Lana was looking. Lana didn't have to ask who this 'Diego' was. “He wants to talk. About us.”

She'd only managed to sleep last night by telling herself she wasn't allowed to be disappointed. All the same, the disappointment still came. “And you've already decided.”

Mia looked down. “Yeah. Sorry. Look, it's complicated. He's helping me with something no-one else can.”

I can, Lana thought before she could stop herself, but she at least had the self-control to prevent the words from spilling out. “No, I get it.” She did her best to smile even though she felt like crying inside. “We were just never meant to be, were we?” At those words, she jumped up, frantically looking for her clothes so she could make her exit. Mia remained still in the bed, shirtless, the expression on her face one of deep thought. Lana willed herself to not be distracted from her righteous departure.

“Just because things don't work out between us doesn't mean you have to be a stranger. We can still catch up, as friends. I... missed you, Lana.” For a moment, Lana was almost swayed: Mia had never said those words before.

“I missed you too,” she replied as she finally pulled her jeans on, struggling them up her calves. “But I can't do this, Mia, I'm sorry.” She'd always been the type of person who cared too much.

Mia didn't seem entirely convinced. As Lana slipped her shoes on at the door, she found Mia watching her from the doorway, a sheet slipped around her shoulders. “'Til we meet again.”

“Yeah,” Lana had answered as non-committally as she should.

Maybe she would've answered differently if she'd known wouldn't be a next time.

–

They were back to their old habits: infrequent phone calls here and there, the occasional text. Once Mia had even considered creating a Facebook account before dismissing it as too much effort. When Mia's boyfriend was taken to hospital, Lana knew better than to expect anything to change. Or, rather, didn't give hope the opportunity to breathe. It was better, instead, to give Mia the space that she needed to recover. Lana couldn't begrudge her that. She'd needed time, too, to deal with the death of her parents.

Lana threw herself into work instead, making her way up the ranks until she became the primary partner of the department's chief detective. There was something captivating about him as well, not quite in the same way as Mia, but it allowed Lana to distract herself from thoughts of her. She knew that if she got too close that she would be burnt again. When Ema was caught up in Jake Marshall's murder case, her baby sister Ema who was honestly the reason that Lana got up some mornings, Lana didn't tell Mia a single bit of it. Would they want another repeat of what had happened when one of them had disclosed in the other? She had to focus on the parts of her life that deserved her time and attention. And Lana was beginning to slowly consider that Mia perhaps hadn't been as perfect as she'd once believed her to be.


The very last text Lana would ever receive from Mia Fey was: Hey, it's been a while but I wanted to tell you the good news. My protege just won his first case! I know you're probably pretty busy but we're going out for drinks at the Gatewater tonight if you wanted to join us.

Take care.

In a fit of exhaustion, jealousy, whatever, Lana had deleted it.

–

It was a sign of how distant their lives had become that Lana was not invited to the funeral. Perhaps 'not invited' was the wrong turn of phrase to use, but more simply: she wouldn't have known anyone there. So when she visited Mia's grave, she went alone, holding nothing but a single flower, a lily to give to the place where her old friend had been buried.

That first time that she visited, she didn't keep track of the time. At first she was numb, unable to comprehend that Mia had left this world so soon. And then she found herself unable to stop herself from crying, thinking of all the things she could've (should've) said when she had the chance. For all the complaints Lana had levied against Mia, she too had never admitted to the depths of her feelings. Would it hurt more or hurt less, if she'd done something differently back then?

She'd always thought she'd had a lifetime to maybe make things work with Mia, but she really ought to have learnt her lesson by now. Perhaps they would meet again in another life, some other galaxy. If they did, anything would have to be better than this.

Brick by brick, her wall grew.