Red Hair

Truth be told, Diana does not remember the last time she had sex that wasn't purely mechanical. When it came to her ex-husband, it was easier to shut down, to close her eyes and imagine herself floating far away from her body and his acts. She has not taken actual pleasure with another person in years.

Beneath her, Phi squirms, her usual serious facade broken by uncontrolled gasps, and Diana thinks ah. THAT'S what sex was about.

She leans down to kiss Phi, full on the mouth. Sigma's hand, thick and broad, joins Diana's on Phi's clit, earning them a breathless moan.

"I..." Sigma speaks up. Diana breaks the kiss to look back at him. His cock is out, hard and hot and absurdly long. "I'm not sure we should be doing this."

Diana digs two fingers inside Phi, making her jump. "Look at how wet she is. She can take you. You won't hurt her."

The problem isn't Sigma's dick, and they both know it. The problem is the red of Phi's pubes, the size of her breasts, the curve of her nose. The problem is that stripped bare, it's so deeply apparent that Phi looks like the both of them. The problem is that Diana knows Phi can take Sigma's cock because she has taken Sigma's cock in another history.

But, here is the thing Phi doesn't know, the thing Crash Keys doesn't know, the thing Diana and Sigma will take to their grave: the thing that brought them together in that bunker wasn't loneliness, wasn't alcohol, wasn't love. It was the shared grief towards a woman they both loved.

Diana does not know the specifics, but she knows Sigma loved- loves, Phi. And so does she. She would shoot a man for this girl. She would set herself on fire for this girl. She would kill six billion people for this girl. Not a hypothetical; Diana remembers, remembers, remembers, sure she remembers giving birth to her daughter but above all she remembers the blood on her hands and smell of ash in her nose and the weight of the taser in her hand-

So, really. Incest is the lesser of Diana's sin. And though every moral cell of her body yell at her that this is wrong, you shouldn't do that, this is your flesh and bones you sick FUCK- this is also the one shot Diana ever had at happiness ever since her divorce. So yes, she will hold onto it with both hands, even if it stains her, even if it kills her, even if she has to drag Sigma and Phi into depravity with her.

(You're too kind, Diana has been told once; she thinks that's true. But kind does not mean good.)

Finally, Sigma snaps his hips forward, and Phi gasps, split open on his girth like the last nail on the coffin of their relationship. He's twenty-two or sixty-seven, she's twenty or one-hundred, and Diana is a divorcee in her thirties. In any other situation everything about this would be the vilest and most morally reprehensible act of love on Earth.

But the world is unfair and uncaring, lives being saved or ruined by a single flip of coin, and if the universe is what's broken then Diana refuses to apologize for the matters of her heart. So when Sigma starts fucking Phi, Diana leans in, and kisses her as well.

You're here. You're with me. Not in that incinerator, not in that bunker, not infected with a mortal disease. You're here, you're here, and I love you, you're here, and we're never leaving you alone ever again.

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