Faye Feng → Dick Grayson ✔

Plane Ride

"I hope you know that electricity and I don't mix."

Klarion glanced nervously at the cream-colored jet. It shone in the artificial light, sleek and small and unassuming. The Fengs' private hangar surrounded the aircraft, a few miles away from the outskirts of Gotham, free from prying eyes and nosy cameras. In fact, there were only three people here: Faye, the pilot, and himself.

"Didn't you enhance our virtual security?"

"That was mostly Abra Kadabra," he said, gaze shifting to Faye. She had a hand on the stair rail that led up to her jet, the carpet beneath her feet a royal red. "And the panels the Light use to display video feeds of group calls have been modified."

"Are our engines going to shut off mid-flight or will our air conditioning malfunction? How bad is it?"

"I don't really know, but I do think that things won't go very well if I touch anything with wires in it."

"Well then, as long as you don't go prodding around in the cockpit, we'll be alright." Faye declared, fearlessly continuing to board.

"I could always just teleport us and our bags from here without risking it, you know."

"You're not leaving a mess on my hangar floor, thank you very much."

Klarion sighed, but followed her into the jet nonetheless. "You're so paranoid about Batman finding out about all this. Even if that stupid man in a costume discovers the Light's involvement, we've promised you safety. I've promised you safety."

Faye's lovely smile met his eyes. "I know you have." She slipped her fingers into his, hand warm and soft. "But there's nothing wrong with being careful."

She pulled him into the main cabin. The stairs folded themselves, sliding upwards and fitting perfectly into the wall of the jet. "Make yourself at home. It'll take us seven hours to get to Paris, and that's because I've told the pilot not to rush."

"How long would it take if you were in a hurry?" Klarion asked, settling into the red and gold sofa. The fabric easily gave way to his touch, and the sofa stretched to the ends of the main cabin.

"About five hours," Faye answered, sitting beside him. She rested her head on his shoulder, and Klarion wrapped an arm around her waist, relishing the feeling of her touch. "So tonight's ride should be pretty smooth."

"I wouldn't know any better – I've never been in the air."

"That's because you can go anywhere with the snap of a finger."

"And also because the last time I touched a computer, it fizzed and died. Nobody wanted me to board Queen Bee's jet after that." Klarion snickered.

"Isn't she the ruler of a country or something? What's she doing running around with you?"

"As much as I'd like to tell you, I can't. That's confidential."

Faye looked up at him innocently. "I thought you got to decide what's secret and what's not."

Klarion smirked, pulling her closer to him. "You do have a point."

She raised a hand and traced the side of his face, her touch as smooth as velvet. Klarion exhaled at the sensation, closing his eyes. "If you really want to know..." he murmured dreamily. "She's making sure that should the Light want to declare war on the international superhero club, Bialya's soldiers will be the first to step up to the plate."

"Aren't they just normal, boring people though?"

From behind his eyelids, the light from the jet slowly dimmed. Klarion felt a weight on his lap and felt one of Faye's legs on either side of him. In response, he put his arms around her hips. A waft of perfume washed over him. Tonight, she smelt like the petrichor of lilies.