He'd like, for just a day, to see her the way everyone else does.

To his crew and to his father, her hair is a steely black, contrasting well against her fair skin. Her nose and eyes are sharp, exuding a fierce confidence that could go unnoticed before with her typical, casual demeanor. And her full lips are just a shade lighter, soft pink that could for a moment emphasize, hidden beneath layers of sturdy armor was a woman, proud and powerful.

The whispers come and go. They are always so cautious to be out of earshot, to look around for the orange-clad mercenary before they gossip and fawn over her body like adolescents in the wake of puberty. There will the occasional soldier that has the legitimate crush on her, citing her blunt ferocity and sturdy poise as reasons for his unattainable love; but even he will throw in a lewd comment about her ample bust or wide hips.

Once the initial vulgar commentary ceases, the conversation veers towards the inevitable: her relationship with him, the son of Black Manta. Snide remarks laced with envy as to how he found such a pretty little thing to be at his beck and call at every moment will be at the forefront. A randy interpretation of what exactly happens behind close doors eventually comes into play, complete with juvenile hand motions. And last of all, there will be a sigh from a lovelorn cadet and everyone will turn to him.

"What's your problem?" one will ask.

"Nothing," he'll reply and another sigh will escape him, "I just...I just hope to have something special like that one day, too."

Then they are all aware they are miles below the ocean's surface, hours away from girlfriends or wives they are unable to hold and coddle. Everyone will be silent for awhile, contemplating the worth of it all. They'll go back to work or to their quarters and before they know it the day is gone.

Of course, Kaldur never experiences any of this firsthand. They either come from soldiers who deems such behavior inappropriate or from his father, who would wait for such conversations to be over before letting his presence be known.

"It is as if they have nothing better to do," Black Manta scoffed on one such account while having dinner with his son, "And it was the same perpetrator as the one before. As though one week in the brig was not enough. Young men these days. I was nothing but cordial when I courted your mother and I would be damned if I ever let anyone talk about her like that."

Kaldur kept silent, thinking it wise to let his father continue you his rant. They rarely discussed his mother. She was an old scar stretched across his father's heart that if picked at would burst open, regret washing over him and sending him into what-ifs and could-haves.

"My son, if you ever feel I'm being too lenient on these scoundrels, you have every right to tell me so," he said, taking another long sip of wine from his gauntlet, "She is yours, after all."

"It is fine father," Kaldur replied, "The punishment you give out suffices. I'm sure Tigress would agree."

His father snickered, "Love blinds you, Kaldur'ahm. If she knew of the truth, I have no doubt your partner would castrate the men responsible for such crass discussion. She may be kind to you, but never underestimate her wrath."

Kaldur nodded, "I'll keep that in mind, father."

In truth, Kaldur thinks of how Artemis would react to such behavior often. As Artemis, she would laugh and shrug them off, knowing full well none of those men would ever try anything on her. And if one of them had the guts to do so, she could easily break their arm or crack a rib in three seconds flat.

They're just words, Artemis would say, They can't and won't harm me.

But as Tigress, her eyes would narrow and she would hiss out. Who would dare speak of her like that? She was not an object to be goggled at, for her underlings to gawk and fantasize over. She was a warrior, a powerful mercenary that could cut through bone and take down the strongest of foes. Only she and she alone could select who could see her as a woman, vulnerable and soft underneath it all.

And as Tigress, she had chosen Kaldur.

It was all an act, of course. The touches that lingered a second more than they should, the piercing, tempting looks while he was preparing his troops for a mission. They were meant to keep suspicion at bay, from both his crew and The Light. To them, Kaldur was now fully implemented in this life of crime, comfortable with his lot as Black Manta's son and protege. He even found someone to confide in, someone to ease the pain of his tragic, ill-fated love.

Artemis knew what she was doing. And so did Kaldur.

It didn't stop him from dreaming.

He would find her on top of him, her outfit hanging off her shoulders and hair splayed across her neck and face. A knee in-between his open legs, inching closer and closer to his groin. Her fingers would be on top of his, pinning him down with little effort. A tempting smile, smoldering eyes...

But most importantly, it was not Artemis he would see. It would be Tigress (or at least what he envisioned her to look like): black hair and fair skin and gray eyes and lips just a shade lighter taunting him, mocking him for his quiet desire of such a facade. How could he fall for the act, how could he wish for something that could never and would never exist?

Coming to his senses, he would try to back away, silently pleading with her to vanish, to erase the yearning pressing into his heart. But she would just laugh in a voice that was and was not her own and tighten her hold on his wrists, pushing her knee high into his inner thigh. He would bite back a moan while she lowered her head, lips hovering inches from his.

"What do you want, Kaldur?" she would ask, gray eyes drowning him.

"...what I cannot have," Kaldur would relent and she would laugh again, leaning in for a kiss.

Sometimes, he would wake right after. But other times, she would continue and he would give in to her hot touch and wet lips, all the while knowing in an hour or so he would wake and be only left with wrenching guilt. For how could he do this to one of his best friends again? Fall for someone just out of reach, someone who in the grand scheme of it all, did not exist?

So, it is with a sad longing that Kaldur wishes, for just a day, to look to his friend and see Tigress, coy grin tugging at her lips as she undresses him with her shameless gaze.

For if a woman is to possess him, he would like to know just what he was missing out on.

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Messed around with the tenses a little. I usually do everything in past tense or passive, but it was nice to make a change. Anyway, hoped you liked it!