insurgents | OPEN POST.

Ruth isn't... wrong. It was also those things. Ruth is so smart and they work so well together, that even if their personal chemistry wasn't what it was Betty might have found all that effort worth it. And she's Betty's best friend. Not her only friend - Betty makes friends like it's a matter of survival - but her best one, a real one. No one really knows her the way Ruth does, and no one ever has.

Except where Ruth missed this one major thing. Differential geometry, Ruth! Because you made a horrible mathematical disaster sound beautiful. There had been moments of weakness when Betty had doubted. Months of dating, and they'd never kissed. Was she too subtle? Was Ruth one of those girls who didn't like kissing? If Betty had had girl-friends, if she had had anyone else in her life like Ruth, she would have moaned about it over drinks or food or at 1am when reason melted into misery like on a sitcom. And someone might have pointed out that this was Ruth Banner, and maybe words would be a good starting point. Not hypothetical words. Real ones. And "kiss her because you've run out of willpower" would not have been the plan.

"You're wrong, but you can have it." And Betty takes the liberty of wrapping her arms around her actual and official girlfriend who might be okay with kissing after all and squeezing her in sheer relief and happiness. "You said yes!" In case anyone wanted a reminder that that happened.

Well, at least like this Betty now is fully aware of just how clueless Ruth can be. To be fair, there was never any official talk so it never even crossed her mind to assume that what they were doing —spending time together, going out for meals and movies and long strolls through the park— was dating. But a good part of it was just her nearly complete lack of attention and awareness of social cues.

Right now she feels a little silly, a little guilty too, but mostly she feels like she's wasted so long pining for Betty when after all there was no pining necessary to begin with. It was mutual all along, and God, Betty even thought they were dating? Probably. Ruth doesn't even dare to ask, for fear she'll just want to shove her head into a hole for being completely blind.

"Shut up. I'm a genius, i'm never wrong." Said with an arched brow and pursed lips, head tipping as if that makes her look any taller than she is. (It doesn't.) A soft chuckle breaks free when Betty holds her, her own arms wrapping around her middle and pulling her closer, chin tucked over her shoulder. "I did! Of course I did. Like I'd say no to that?"

She pulls away just enough that she can look at Betty's face again, hands still on her sides. Her smile turns a little more apologetic. "Sorry it took me so long."

Well sure, but Betty could have brought it up with actual words before this point too. And she didn't, and then she still didn't. It's a first for her - people read her as interested when she isn't, and she's never had a case in reverse. For someone she had a violent crush on who almost certainly liked her back, it should have been written like lights in the sky. It felt like the most obvious thing every time they were together, even when it was also the most comfortable thing. Who, given half a chance, wouldn't fall madly in love with Ruth? Brilliant and clueless Ruth. She's so cute. She's so cute, and Betty could die.

"Hey- ," we still have the rest of our lives - but that's a little much, isn't it? A little fast and a little much. Betty knows about oxytocin too. About neurotransmitters flooding the brain and hormones flooding the blood, about the chemical cocktail of happiness. That's what she's really thinking about: happiness, and whether she can spin with Ruth in her arms fast enough for them to float off the ground. She feels like dancing, so she does, swaying them both artlessly to the pulse of delight fluttering inside her rib cage, under streetlamps on an empty path in the middle of a beautiful beginning.

Again, more softly, "Hey. I'd wait twice this long for you. Ten times as long. But I'm glad I didn't have to." Maybe the second kiss is less sudden than the first. Maybe. At least both parties are forewarned.

Overall, this just could've been handled a lot better on both ends. But it doesn't really matter that Betty could've mentioned it before, it doesn't matter that Ruth could've paid more attention to the signs, and read them for what they were. What matters is that they got there now, and it's better than never getting there at all.

The thought of years going by and only finding out that she could've had this when Betty's already moved on and is with someone else, happy, having built a life with that person... it's almost too much to bear.

Which is why the next words surprise her. Maybe in a good way, a small part not so much. Would she have waited that long, really? She's probably just exaggerating, Ruth figures. Not that that matters, either. Ruth could stand to not ruin things before they even start anyway, and this time, when Betty leans in to kiss her, she returns it gladly, a hand moving up to cup Betty's face, letting out a chuckle when their noses bump together a little, and she tips her head just enough to fix that.

"Ten times might've been a little much, no?" She's a little breathless when she breaks the kiss, for no reason other than sheer excitement and happiness, her words a warm hum against Betty's lips. Her eyes flicker up for a moment, then she adds with a hint of apprehension. "I... have a confession to make."

Betty would absolutely not have waited that long. She would have pushed the issue at least by the time graduation rolled around and sought a solid rejection so she could move on. There's no doubt in her mind that without one, she would be gone over Ruth indefinitely.

They warn you about the potency of young love, but in the throes of it, there's really nothing you can do. She doesn't feel bad at all about committing and entire future if it means Ruth is kissing her back now, will probably still kiss her back tomorrow.

"Is this about world domination? Because I already... oh. Oh, you're serious." She reins herself in a little, slows, stops. "Go ahead, I'm listening."

Good thing at least one of them is a more proactive kind of person, and a lot less clueless too, because if it were up to Ruth, then chances are graduation would've come and gone and nothing would have ever happened. Not that Ruth wouldn't still value their friendship just as dearly, but it would be a lie if she said she wouldn't be miserable seeing Betty with someone else.

"Idiot," she chuckles, swatting a hand lightly at Betty's arm. The joke at least gets her to relax a little, even if she feels very self-conscious about what she has to say. Or thinks she has to say— she doesn't know. She has no idea what kind of things are important to mention in a relationship, but one way or the other, she still wants Betty to know, even if she almost feels like hiding her face somewhere as she says it.

"That was my first kiss. Actually. I mean, not this one, that one— the first one. When you kissed me first."

Wow. Smooth.

"Oh no!" Oh no, are you kidding me? Betty cups Ruth's jaw with both hands so she can't look down or away, and it's hard to tell if she's genuinely alarmed or just fussing. "I don't think that one counts. I didn't even- I mean just couldn't help- And then I sort of just put my face on yours... Even the second-"

Yeah don't even worry about it, Ruth.

"I think you have to let me do it over again," she concludes and drops her hands back to Ruth's waist. "You don't have the reference points yet, but I think I can do much better first kiss next time."

Ruth is a little embarrassed at first, when she takes that first remark as shock and alarm. Not that she blames Betty for it, really, she knows it's probably a weird thing, a woman in her twenties saying she never even kissed someone, let alone... well, done anything else, ever. But then Betty goes on talking, and her embarrassment turns into a snort and a laugh, her head tipping back a little.

"No way," she shakes her head, her hands both resting on Betty's arms, sliding up to her shoulders. "That was my first kiss, you can't take that away from me. And this one was my second. And the next one will be my third." And she will love each and every one of them, in different ways, sometimes for different reasons that deep down, are all the same.

"Fine, but you're going to need to work with me to bring up the curve. I'm going to try something, hang on."

No, actually hang on.

There's your warning, because Betty is totally going to try and pick Ruth up now, hands probably on her butt (!), lifting her just high enough to be clear of the path. And it's fine, it's totally manageable and stable and fine, literally sweeping her girl off her feet, you got this Ross, except now she's giggling too hard to kiss her at this new angle, head tilted back, and Ruth's face is haloed by the orange glow of a streetlamp, incandescent.

"We're both brilliant. I'm sure we can work something out."

And then she does as Betty asks, and hangs on. Except she doesn't hang on literally, and when Betty lifts her up from the ground she lets out a loud yelp, hands clinging hard to her shoulders, eyes widening almost comically for a moment there. The surprise dissolves into laughter and her head bends forward a little, her nose bumping against Betty's a little roughly in the process.

"What's the plan here, exactly? I'm pretty sure this doesn't work like in the movies, you know? And by the way, please don't try to spin me around next."

She's not hearing a wealth of confidence, there, Ruth. "That was the plan," she admits, "but I'm starting to see why that might not work out so well. Trust a physicist to catch the problem with Hollywood magic."

But it's honestly not too hard to hold her up like this - Betty could probably keep it up for a little while, especially if Ruth hooks her legs around her waist and holds on a little harder. It's just more awkward than she expected.

"It's an experiment. Try kissing me."

Only because Betty sucks at these kinds of sweeping romantic gestures, or at least when it comes to taking into account that real life isn't like in the movies. Bodies can't be lifted up all that easily, there's gravity and force and mass and— you know what, she really doesn't care. Screw science, Betty's holding her in her arms and she couldn't care any less about what it should be like.

This is perfect.

She leans in and tips her head to the side, still smiling even as she presses her lips to Betty's. One hand carefully moves so that her arm wraps around her shoulders, then the other, trying to help as much as she can in keeping her weight steady, even if Betty's the one doing most of the heavy lifting right now. Not that Ruth is particularly heavy, but still. She's mostly focused on the kissing.

Wow rude! Maybe scratch sweeping romantic gestures, then. And she knows her way around a push-up! She's not completely hopeless here, although she's admittedly never spun in place while embracing a weight or a dumbbell or a human, and maybe this is not a thing that is going to happen. There's some sort of weight distribution issue... anyway.

They can try this kissing thing, and then compare it to other kissing things later, like if they just stand on some steps, or something and it'll be great. Because on steps, Betty would have her arms free, but on steps, she wouldn't have Ruth's arms hooked around her and the fullness of her weight pressing them into the earth, and there are just a lot of variations they're going to need to try. After this.

"Well?," when they're up for air again, "Results? And if you were thinking about our yields again I'm going to drop you."

Whatever Betty was aiming for here, Ruth thinks the outcome is rather nice anyway, even if different from originally planned. She doesn't mind. She certainly wasn't planning on being in Betty's arms when they started to walk through the park, so anything she gets now —hugs, kisses, smiles— she considers a bonus, a wonderful surprise.

She lets her lips linger, lets herself linger just because she can. She doesn't want to pull away, not ever, almost like every kiss she breaks she's afraid some spell will be broken, or that every time she opens her eyes again she's going to be in her bedroom, dipped in pitch darkness, and this will have been nothing but a dream.

But Betty's still there when she pulls away, and even her smile has an airy quality to it, almost breathless. "Not enough data. I need to," she trails off a little, sighs against Betty's lips and cheek. "We'll have to keep testing. Too many... variables. We need more results if we want this to be a credible study."

You know what you should do if it all turns out to be a dream? Go to Betty's dorm, knock on the door, and when she answers it, kiss her. That's Betty's plan, anyway, or it would be if this was something she was worried about.

Brennan Ruth Banner, was that a line? Did you just use a line on her? A really nerdy line? "That's what I've been saying. We have to try everything." Betty turns her face she can sort of kiss the corner of Ruth's mouth before she lowers her carefully back down the very few inches between her feet and the ground. "In triplicate. A broad preliminary study in-" slow down please, "you know, stuff. Kissing stuff."

Right, she could do that. If only she didn't lose her nerve on her way there like she has a number of times before, even when it comes to something as seemingly simple as confessing her feelings. Except there's nothing simple about that, at least not to her.

She hums and nods slowly, tips her head a little so she can kiss Betty back. They probably should stop at some point, but they've literally just started kissing and she doesn't really want it to be over anytime soon. "I think so too. We should try a lot of that kissing stuff." And other stuff, but, you know. They've got time for that. For everything.

They're too far back in history to quote Disney songs here, alas. "I'm glad the first one didn't put you off them forever." Sometimes kissing is really gross! And slimy. And fails to meet expectations.

She's going to crack up again, but she doesn't want Ruth to think she's laughing at her, only at the both of them. That's better, right?

"Is it weird now if I still stay over tonight?"

"Are you kidding? It only makes me want more of them." Honestly, they could be all gross and slimy but they could never fail to meet expectations, not while she's kissing Betty. Her own daydreaming and imagination can't possibly compare to reality, even with failed attempts at twirling and teeth bumping against teeth and lips not fitting quite right.

Because everything else fits right. It fits perfectly like pieces of a puzzle, like an equation finally making sense.

She looks a little thoughtful at Betty's question, managing to pull off a truly concerned expression. Brow furrowed, a hand covering her own mouth as she hums gravely.

"Wow. You're right. Now that we're dating, you'll definitely have to sleep out on the balcony. Otherwise it'll just be too weird."

Betty, who should have expected that, rolls her eyes so hard spots of colour flash at the edges of her vision and gives up on holding in her laughter.

"Okay, okay, smartass, so you're not bothered at all. You know I just want to make sure my girlfriend, whose virgin lips I ravished tonight," she would have kissed her anyway, she just could have planned it better, "knows what her options are. I do have a place of my own." Even if she is never there anymore.

She has to laugh at that. She's not even embarrassed that Betty uses the word 'virgin' (well okay, maybe a little bit embarrassed), it's just too amusing the way she puts it.

"I assure you your girlfriend's lips may have been virgin until just now," not anymore, mind, "but I'm not all that innocent. And do you really have a place of your own still? I can't even remember the last time you were there." She drops the teasing tone, smiling at Betty. "It's fine. Having you over is one of the things I'll be happiest about, now that we're dating."

Before it was always a source of endless frustration. Sure, she liked Betty's company and friendship for what it was, but still.

She's resolved not to advance them any more bases tonight, it would be irresponsible before Ruth has had more time to herself, but even as she thinks it, she's pretty sure she's just lying to herself because whatever Ruth feels ready for, she is more than ready for too.

Betty's lip twitch in an aborted smile. "In that case, I can wait another night to collect Janet's congratulations. And her 'I told you so.' She's been after me to just kiss you since November."

Ruth is definitely not thinking of advancing any more bases right now, not because she has any idea of how a real loving relationship is supposed to go or if there's some sort of schedule or stages they need to go through, but simply because this was her first kiss and they literally just kissed— they literally just talked about being girlfriends for the first time. It's probably too soon for anything more than that.

Not that she doesn't want to, mind. And she's very aware that she wants to too, so it's not even about her being completely clueless this time around.

She smiles a bit, pressing her lips thinly, her head tilting just so. "She was right. You should've kissed me in November."

Sometimes things move quickly, and sometimes they don't move at all; it's more that Betty needs the reminder that for once, she doesn't necessarily know what's best. The girlfriends thing, the first kiss thing, she's on some shaky ground here. Ruth isn't really like anyone else she knows. She can't predict Ruth the way she can other people, not in this, so hurtling forward may not be optimal.

"I couldn't risk it," gravely, leaning in, not altogether serious. In November, Betty had still been coming to terms with the idea that Ruth liked her. Sure that she did, then positive she didn't. She'd thought maybe she could get over it, but then hadn't even tried. "I had to be sure I was completely irresistible before trying. But then it turned out you were."

Back in November Ruth was in exactly the same spot as now— well, 'now' up until the point Betty kissed her. Very aware of how she felt about Betty, very (un)sure that those feelings were returned. She's always been clueless when it comes to these things, far more than Betty for that matter, and she could've used a clue back then, really. Even if she gets why Betty would be scared to try.

This time there's no joke shot back, no witty remark. Ruth smiles and her eyes close, and she ducks her head, hiding it in her hands. "God," she giggles almost, feeling ridiculously fluttery right now. "When did you get this smooth? Shut up, it's unfair."

These children. Well, these young adults.

"What? Hey, what, no, come back." Betty tugs at her wrists, not trying very hard to pull Ruth's hand away. "It's completely fair, and I've obviously always been this smooth. Do you want to," um, "do you want to go continue being embarrassments somewhere else?"

She kisses the back of Ruth's cheek, or maybe the back of her hand by proxy, and reconsiders. "Except the lab. Vetoing the whole bio building, actually. Or the math wings. Other than those."

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