She lets go of him and shifts her hand up to clutch his shoulder (which is something that, given the strength in her grip, Red should probably be thankful for), and then she breaks off the kiss, panting. She puts her leg over his opposite hip and rests her forehead against his; closes her eyes.

Blue flames ripple up with a quiet whump. They're thin tendrils, low and kept dancing at a maximum height of a foot or two (because if she doesn't put in the initial effort, Liz has been known to blow out lights), but the column of fire envelops the two of them from head to toe.

Liz shifts so that, while their faces are still close, she can steadily look him in the eyes. There's color high in her cheeks and her eyes are unearthly blue, white-hot.

"Come on, you big ape."