Pyrokinesis

She loved to dance.

Truth be told, she never stood still. Sasha still marveled over her inability to remain in one fixed position for any amount of time. Her partner was long over his penchant to roll his eyes behind his sunglasses when she started to bob to the beat in her head.

Neck rolling, knees bending, feet shifting, hair waving, arms swaying, hips shaking.

Hips shaking.

He could stand everything but that last one. Especially the way her dresses seemed to catch the light and reflect it back at him.

Sasha barely knew Milla Vodello. They'd been assigned as partners in the academy only three months ago. What he knew was what she gave him on the surface: she was beautiful; she was smart, knew more than she let on; and she loved to dance. Any given situation--although utter primal terror had yet to rear its ugly head at the cadets--saw Milla dancing, even in the smallest way.

She would glance over her shoulder, see him watching her dance, and smile with her brilliant white teeth before returning to the shake of her hips. Sasha's lips pressed together into a thin, pale line and he continued to feign ignorance to those hips.

Sasha wasn't sure how women went about things in Brazil, but he never knew any German women to dance like her. Her hips sparkled when she danced, and her earrings jingled like tiny bells.

Milla led the way. He tried to stay ahead of her more often than not, if only to keep his eyes where they belonged. He supposed it helped that they were hidden behind his tinted sunglasses, but he was sure that if she tried hard enough she could see exactly where his eyes trailed. Part of him wondered if she did it on purpose.

They were in Mexico, where the beat of the drum and the metal melodies of seven-stringed guitars echoed in the night street. They tried to blend in, which involved a sparkling, jingling shawl wrapped around Milla's waist and draped down over her hips. She sparkled when she walked. She wrangled an oversized sombrero and fixed it atop Sasha's head, and he was glad for the wide brim as he pulled it down over his face to hide whatever had crept into his cheeks.

The square was lit with myriad lights, and all of them caught in Milla's dress as she was caught up in the music. She slipped away from Sasha's side and twirled away into the twilight, feet gliding over the bricks in a way that looked supernatural, ethereal. Her hair twirled and twisted around her, and every so often he caught a flash of her eyes in the overhead lights. The band picked up when Milla began to dance, and several shouts went up amongst the crowd.

Sasha tried several times to keep his eyes peeled for their covert contact they'd been instructed to meet in one mere hour. Milla had asked to see the sights. Sasha broke easier than she thought. Whenever Sasha's eyes swept the crowd, Milla was there dancing to the music that never wanted to stop.

Her hips swayed side to side, back and again, over and over. His eyes ticked to her waist and he couldn't help himself as they slid down the curve of her hips that moved so restlessly. Why couldn't she stand still for five damn minutes? Didn't she know what hips like that could do to a man? She had to know, dammit, she had to be doing it on purpose. She meant to set his blood on fire and cloud up his mind until it was only her and only the movement of her hips.

The moment was like a magnifying glass, concentrating far too hard on one thing alone, and Milla had no warning when the scarf covering her hips burst into flame.

She stopped dancing abruptly and uttered a sharp, loud scream of sudden terror. Sasha nearly fell over himself as he and a man near him grabbed for any water they could get their hands on. Milla's upper back was put out within seconds, albeit drenched and covered in an encompassing scorch marks. The curve of her spine was just visible through the ruined material.

The square was suddenly silent. Milla held the ruined remnants of the sparkling scarf in her hands, bits of charred material crumbling in her hands. Her face turned a very violent shade of scarlet and her eyes narrowed on Sasha, who still held the emptied glass of water in one hand.

She squared her jaw and pulled back her hand, releasing the tension in a harsh slap across the side of Sasha's face. He reeled through, taken by surprise, and clamped a hand over the now-hot mark across his cheek.

"This was my favorite dress," she said with only the slightest waver in her voice. She added quickly, defensively: "Don't think I don't know where your eyes were, darling."

She stormed into the crowd, and bewildered Sasha lost her in an instant. As professionally as he could, he fixed himself straight and tall and took off in his own long-legged stride after her.

He didn't say anything when he found her at the hotel. He adjusted his glasses superfluously and handed her the new sash he held in his other hand. She wordlessly took it and unfurled it. It jingled with the sound of tiny silver bangles tinkling together. The light fractured when it hit the sash, and a rainbow danced on her face. Her smile grew, as if it never left.

After she had tied the sash about her waist to test it, she shook her head and pressed a pack of ice against his cheek. It took a great amount of effort, but he managed to keep his hand from resting atop hers.

"Instead of practicing your pyrokinesis, just ask me next time, darling," she explained, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

He managed a nod, an embarrassed flush of red across his face for the first time either of them could remember. He nixed it as quickly as he could, cleared his throat and suggested they get a move on to meet their contact. As they left the hotel, he felt just the slightest twinge of pride in the fact that she had, indeed, been doing it on purpose.

AN: Hello, friends--old (in case you're joining me from a previous fandom) and new (in the never-before-explored Psychonauts section!). I just recently got my paws on this game and realized it's the best thing since the pita pocket. And Sasha/Milla totally makes my world :D (not to mention I probably have a thing for Sasha, but hey, who doesn't?). This idea came to me at work and stuck there like a strawberry seed. Hope it isn't out of character, and leave me some love (and const. crit. if you feel like it!) and let me know what you think. Much love, and stay awesome!