she_sells_seashells | in control of an inferno

The following morning, Bell hears what sounds like a fire alarm. It's not in their building - it's at least a block away. From her window, she can clearly see the house that's caught, near the train station, and just as clearly see that there isn't any bucket brigade handling it yet.

She seizes her wand from the nightstand and assumes control over the fire; if there's anyone in the unburnt part of the house they'll be able to get out. "SHERLOCK! TONY!" she calls.

Bell wants a second opinion before she snakes this fire down the corner of the house and over the grass to destroy the train station.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

sicaria

Sherlock is at her bedroom door in three seconds.

"Yes?"

From:

she_sells_seashells

"House caught fire all by itself; I'm keeping the damage confined in case there's anybody in there. Good or bad idea to snake it down the trellis and across the grass and torch the train station? Capitol, not District, pays to rebuild those, and I don't have any practical experience on targets yet." She keeps her eyes focused fixedly on the fire. "I think I can make it look natural."

From:

sicaria

Sherlock considers this question for a short moment.

Then: "Do."

From:

she_sells_seashells

The fire spits and crackles and lurches down the trellis, spreading along it in a very unpurposeful-looking way. It picks up speed at the base, racing along dry winter grass and sending the whole empty lawn up in smoke, but encountering the natural firebreak of the surrounding paths -

And the train station.

There's a bucket brigade at the house now, passing water up a ladder leaning on the unburning part of the original building and pouring it on the smoldering corner. They make perhaps more progress than they should - but this might be visible only from a distance, as Bell shrinks that fragment of the conflagration to focus on - and warm - the part that's currently eating away at columns and twisting tracks into useless wrecks. (And leaving the station attendant a clear path to flee, which he does, right before his booth is swallowed up.)

The fire brigade is permitted to succeed completely at putting out the house fire. Bell lets the lawn go out, too, now that she doesn't need the connection to minimize house damage and manage train damage; it smokes.

She lets the flames heat up, now that they're only touching things she wishes to destroy. The color changes. The spread speeds up. The station is burning brightly, and the fire brigade can't even get close enough to it to throw water on it, not that Bell would let it do any good.

When she has reduced the train station to a ruined hulk pouring black particulates into the air and collapsing onto itself, she gradually shrinks the fire to a smaller, cooler piece in the middle, releases control so it will behave as naturally at the end as it did at the beginning, and watches it burn itself out on what used to be the sign reading WELCOME TO DISTRICT THREE.

From:

sicaria

Sherlock watches.

She is not fully aware of her own fascination until the spectacle is over and she turns that same fascination on Bell instead of her handiwork with the fire.

"That was—masterful," she says, a little breathlessly.

Edited Date: 2013-01-30 06:19 pm (UTC)

From:

she_sells_seashells

Bell licks her lips and wipes a thin sheen of sweat from her forehead. "Thanks," she says, breathing a little hard herself. Using the wand isn't directly tiring, but concentration is, and she has to concentrate to keep any significant amount of fire hers. "Okay. So now I know I'm as good with this thing as I think I am." She twists her hair up and sticks her stick through it. "That's good."

From:

sicaria

"I have become attracted to you again," Sherlock observes.

From:

she_sells_seashells

Bell looks at her. "...Because of the fire?" Beat. "Um, do you want me to do anything about that? I..." She hesitates awkwardly. "Probably could now, I think, if I tried. Because darts. Supplied an example. Of how to arrange my brain in the relevant way."

From:

sicaria

"I believe the relevant question is, do you want to do anything about that?"

From:

she_sells_seashells

Bell thinks.

"I have no idea how long it's going to take to complete the revolution," she observes. "If we manage it at all." Pause. "The whole I-don't-dare-risk-having-children thing has to be the least romantic reason to consider adjusting my sexual orientation for a specific person, ever. But I mean, I do also like you."

From:

sicaria

"I also like you too," says Sherlock. "And I am not a particularly romantic person."

From:

she_sells_seashells

Bell sits on her bed. "I've never been with anyone of either gender. So all my concepts are influenced by the media, which is mostly dominated by depictions of romantic people. What is dating a not-romantic person like?"

From:

sicaria

"I do not know," says Sherlock. "I have never tried."

From:

she_sells_seashells

"Huh." Bell looks at her hands, folded in her lap. "I think I need at least a few hours alone with my recorder to come to a decision. It would help if you were less neutral about it, though."

From:

sicaria

"...I am... not neutral," says Sherlock.

From:

she_sells_seashells

"Can you tell me anything else about your feelings on the matter, though?" Bell asks.

From:

sicaria

She shuts her eyes.

"Despite evidence to the contrary, I do not believe I am a worthwhile partner. I expect you to decide as much and then I expect to be very upset."

From:

she_sells_seashells

Bell blinks.

And then she hugs Sherlock. (Platonically.)

"I'm kind of selfish," Bell says. "I'll wind up deciding to do whatever I think I'd like to do overall. And I don't know what I'll decide yet. But why would you expect it to go that way?"

From:

sicaria

Sherlock hugs back.

"Because I don't like myself very much," she says softly.

From:

she_sells_seashells

"Why?" Bell says. Her face is right near Sherlock's ear. She whispers.

From:

sicaria

A momentary quiet, and then,

"I don't know."

From:

she_sells_seashells

Bell lets her go and sits back, making eye contact. "You are a perfectly likeable person," she says. "I suppose it doesn't help that much for me to tell you that, though? Since I've said equivalent things before."

From:

sicaria

"I may need some time to get used to the idea."

From:

she_sells_seashells

Bell nods.

She pulls out her recorder and looks at it. "It often helps me make decisions when I have a good picture of what it'll look like after I make them. I don't know what it looks like when you're upset about being turned down - and I don't know what it looks like if I tell you 'well, I have hacked my brain with regards to the template supplied by holiday darts' - so that would also help if you could tell me that."