Author's note: this chapter's ending is a bit more serious (a touch of Taylor-plot) than usual. Also, sorry for the slow release. But if the heavy isn't your thing, rest assured that I have plans for how Squiggs' night will go 
*****
For a little while we lay there together in my double bed. "So I was just thinking," I began.
"Mmmm."
"Seeing as how we're probably going to do this again."
"MMmmm!" Mouse smiled and stretched languidly, her hand smearing against my mouth.
"Mpphtb," I said, pushing her hand away from my lips. "...maybe I should tell you my name?"
"Noooo... Hotter if you don't. Being two sexy strangers who just can't stop themselves, no names necessary..."
"Well, sure, but I was thinking that since I'm gonna get you pregnant, might be a good idea to unmask. With names, I mean." We'd just stopped bothering with the masks after getting back to my quarters.
She blew a raspberry and mimed jerking off an imaginary dick. "...Fffinnnne." She fake-pouted at me. "You're lucky that getting knocked up is sexier than me not knowing your name. You'll have to make it up to me, though. Oh! It might be fun to pretend you don't speak any English next time. Do you know any foreign languages? Not Spanish, though, I already speak a little. It has to be something I don't know."
"A little French, I guess. How'd that be?"
"Oooh, sexy Frenchie, speaking the language of love to get my pants off and fuck a baby into me..."
"Careful with that kinda talk...unless you want to go again."
She looked pensive for a moment. "Tempting...but rain-check. I did want to do at least some heroing today. Also, I'm feelin' a little sore."
"Bet I could heal that."
"Don't you dare! I like this kinda sore. It's the soreness of accomplishment. Of victory! Of...conquest." She fixed my gaze with a faux-serious look and prodded my chest with a finger. "Ya like bein' conquered, High Peen?"
I chuckled. "Long as it doesn't involve my butthole, conquer away." She blew another raspberry. "...anyway, my name's Sidney. Sidney Quigley. People usually call me 'Sid' or 'Squiggs'."
"'Squiggs' is kinda fun." She reached over to grab my hand and gave it a shake, saying in an over-affected, deeply-serious voice: "A pleasure to make your acquaintaince, Mr. Quigley. My name is Minerva Crocker, but you may call me 'Oh God', 'Yes, Just Like That', or 'More, Please'."
"Minerva...You're actually named Minnie? Minnie Mouse Protector?"
"Laugh all you want. I thought it was cute when I was a kid. Still do, except now I've decided that Minnie Mouse is also a demon in the sack. She's gotta be if she wants to be my spirit animal. My version of Minnie Mouse saves the day and then fucks Mickey's brains out. And then has a threeway with Donald and Daisy."
"Poor Walt must be spinning in his grave."
"Eh." She said, pulling herself upright. "My version's still better."
She started searching around for her panties and I asked, "Hey, before you head out... if, hypothetically, a neo-nazi villain cape mistook me for a gigolo and wanted to hire me, what should I charge for a night?"
She paused to stare at me. "I am not leaving until you tell me more."
"K. So, last night I was on a date with Shadow Stalker's mother, right?"
"Right. Why was it a date, though? Not just banging in a soundproofed room during power-testing?"
"Just her preference. We had dinner before I walked her home and spent the night."
"Huh. You know, today's lunch notwithstanding, I generally prefer to have sex before eating...but to each her own. Still...a proper bed's better than that cot was, so there's a plus on the side of a more traditional date. By the way, you need a bigger bed, High Peen."
"One of my next priorities. So anyway, we were out on our date and she was in the bathroom, and a woman who I'm pretty damn sure is a local E88 villain came up to me and asked about my rates."
"So, what, she assumed you were a whore because you, a good-looking, younger white guy, were on a date with an older black woman?"
"Yup."
"Rude!"
"I know, right? But at the same time, she seemed lonely and I figure that I can get a power boost out of the thing. Also, if I'm charging her for it, it's like a tax on being a villainous racist, cause if she weren't I'd've been fine with doing it for free."
"No, not for free!" she blurted out urgently before calming and giving me some of the saddest puppy-eyes I'd ever seen. "I never knew I wanted something so much before this conversation. But please, Baby... please let me be your pimp?" She poutingly pled, wringing her hands with barely restrained eagerness.
"Uhhhmmm... sure?" She squealed with delight. "We might have to clear any potential 'clients' with Director Piggot, though. Also, try not to be too explicitly clear that you're literally pimping me out, yeah? I think she'd like everything to have at least the appearance of legality."
She gestured dismissively. "Right, yeah, I know the drill. You're not a whore, you're an escort." She then flopped down onto my chest and looked into my eyes with smolder. "...But maybe, just for right now, you could be a whore for me?" Once again, she flashed her leering grin. "'Cause I changed my mind, High Peen...I don't think I'm sore enough, yet."
***Friday***
I hadn't seen any new messages from Taylor when I'd checked the previous night or in the morning, so my day had started out in a fairly routine way; some light exercise/training--I couldn't help but notice that I was already markedly fitter than I'd been in the past week and was already seeing some improvements in my muscle tone/definition (making me wonder if my passive healing was turbocharging my improvement)--followed by breakfast, then a meeting with Image where we discussed the costuming for my rapidly-approaching public debut and I shot down all attempts they made to get me to shave my chest, much to flirty Linda's disappointment.
After my Image consultations came probably the most significant event of the morning in the Medical wing of the PRT HQ: Director Piggot had authorized more testing of my powers, which in this case meant that I'd be Healing ten local PRT officers who been injured, maimed, or otherwise incapacitated in the line of duty, who would then be kept a few days for observation (or, I guessed, until the next time they'd be able to wrangle Panacea over for a checkup). This, I'd been informed, was the prelude to me taking a larger support to the local PRT and Protectorate operations.
Piggot herself would be observing a few of the healings before leaving to take care of other business. I was hoping that I was wearing down her resistance to being healed, but at that point I couldn't say for sure.
I don't know that I'd ever seen such joy as on the face of Lieutenant Davis after he found himself with two usable hands again, or Sergeant Hernandez who found herself able to stand and hug her wife after months of being combined to wheelchair after a TBI. It was really nice. I found myself feeling more than a little emotionally exhausted from the tearful thanks and hugs I received, but I could honestly say that it was the first time as a Hero that I'd felt properly heroic.
I was still riding that high when I returned to my quarters and saw I had new messages.
[11:31]SomehowStanding95: I appreciate that you've told me those things.
[11:31]SomehowStanding95: But all the 'cloak and dagger' stuff doesn't make me feel safe.
[11:31]SomehowStanding95: I'm sure you have your reasons
[11:32]SomehowStanding95: But if you want to prove to me that you won't use what you know to hurt me, you won't contact me again
Ouch.
I won't lie, that had stung. At the same time, though, there was a part of me felt a little relieved. Over the past week and a half, I'd had some chances to idly reflect on Taylor, and my own awkward crush. The Taylor present in this reality right now wasn't yet the girl who would carve out the eyes of the baddest motherfucker in Brockton Bay. She wasn't yet the indomitable warlord, the meme-tastic Determinator, the indomitable young woman who would sacrifice herself to kill a god.
I'd asked myself already: If I ever meet Taylor in person, will I see any hints of that scarousing woman, or will I just see a recently shattered girl listlessly trying to pull her life back together?
...and honestly, I'd already been hesitating to swoop in on Zoe Barnes during her time of emotional vulnerability, so how could I do that to Taylor? If I found my way into Taylor's life, befriended her, and leveraged being her one point of positive human contact in years into a romantic, sexual relationship, meanwhile having an enormous informational advantage in knowing more about her, her life, and her inner thoughts than anyone would have any right to know...
...if I did that, wouldn't I be as manipulative, disgusting, morally repugnant, and borderline rapey as Tattletale in a Smugbug shipfic?
I decided then that I wouldn't let myself sink that low. I decided that I wanted to be better than that. Was I rationalizing away the sting of that initial rejection? Absolutely! But maybe rationalizing myself into being more ethical wasn't such a bad thing.
And so, for the moment I tossed aside thoughts of Taylor Hebert. I had plans for tonight, after all; and feeling gloriously self-righteous about having reaffirmed the core of my moral fiber, with steel in my backbone and my head held high, I began preparing to whore my body out to a violent, superpowered, neo-Nazi supervillain.
Author's note: Hooeeeee...I found it surprisingly hard to write interactions with a character who is (mostly) functionally mute. I do hope it's an enjoyable chapter, though. I've done a little bit of proofreading, but I'm exhausted now so I could have missed a few mistakes; advance apologies, if you find any goofs I'll make sure to fix them, etc. etc. I hope y'all enjoy the lewds!
*****
Among other things, one of my preparations for the coming evening was to find out everything I could about Cricket beforehand, which meant asking someone higher in the chain of command for access to any relevant dossiers.
Briefly, I'd considered that I should try and keep my whoring activities on the down low, but given that Director Piggot, despite some rather obvious misgivings, hadn't outright forbidden me from what I was going to be doing that evening, I figured that I should repay that trust by being as little of a dumbass about it as I could manage.
"To summarize: the villain, Cricket, in her civilian identity, has hired you, in your civilian identity, to act as a prostitute for her this evening," said Armsmaster.
"Yup."
"Do you realize that you are the single least combat-experienced Protectorate Hero on the East Coast, much less Brockton Bay? Do you further realize that Cricket has, at a minimum, several years' worth of experience using her powers in combat situations? And further, that your plans for this evening involve you spending extended periods of time in intimately close proximity to her; someone who excels when fighting in both armed and unarmed melee combat?" he continued.
"...well, yeah, but..." I paused to collect my thoughts as he stared at me grimly. "...I wasn't planning on fighting her."
"Yes. All will be well if we assume there won't be any fighting at all. Surely the safest of assumptions when dealing with the sort of woman who, for the fun of it, engages in gladiatorial fights and loves to get new scars," he said drily. "Surely that assumption remains just as safe in light of the fact that shortly after your last contact with her, you were assaulted by three members of the very gang for which she is an enforcer."
Jeez. Armsmaster's surpisingly sassy.
"I'll have backup, though? In case things go sideways? Mouse Protector's going to be my backup."
"...of course that maniac's involved in this," he grumbled under his breath, "likely planning on masturbating to this whole insane scenario up to very second things go wrong." Yeah, that's Minnie alright. Switching to his command voice, Armsmaster continued. "Hyperion, if you didn't have an established Brute rating or if Cricket had a known body count greater than zero, I'd pull rank and forbid you from going off-base altogether tonight...However, I'm also well aware that if we were to restrict you to pursuing power boosts only from non-villainous individuals, your pool of available targets would shrink drastically. Use your evening as you wish. I will make sure that you're cleared for access to our relevant intelligence on Cricket--I expect you thoroughly familiarize yourself with whatever information we have on her--and I will be providing you with a portable tracker, microphone, and distress transponder. And, for God's sake, make sure you wear a condom! All those scars from pit-fighting... that can't possibly be hygienic."
"Sure. Hey, did you say a microphone?"
"Yes. It's a small device disguised as a quarter you can keep in your pocket. One its functions is to transmit audio to the designated receiver, which I will also provide you, presumably to give to Mouse Protector."
"So...she's going to be listening to everything we do...the entire time?"
"I would assume so. That would seem to be the best way to be ready in the event an exfiltration is needed."
"I get that...I'm just a little uncomfortable with that particular bit."
He regarded me blankly for a moment. "Given your recent experiences with Mouse Protector, I'm not sure why her listening in on you should be a problem."
"Well, it's not that I'm bothered about her listening in on me...it's more that I can't really ask for Cricket's consent on this if I wanna do it safely, you know? I just worry that it's a violation of her personal privacy, Empire or not."
"Ah. An ethical concern. I suppose that I could adjust the microphone not to transmit low-amplitude sound, at which point someone listening to the receiver wouldn't hear anything quieter than a yell. Cricket herself is known not to make much noise outside of using her powers for combat. Would that be acceptable?"
"You know what? I think so. Mouse'll be disappointed, though."
...and that was the very first time I'd seen Armsmaster smile.
***Several hours later***
It really shouldn't have surprised me that it could be cold-as-balls on a late night in January. I guess that the other nights, which had been chilly but not disgustingly, so had spoiled me. Right at that moment, I was huddled up in my heaviest winter coat as I trudged my way through a light flurry to our agreed-upon rendezvous point; a lamp-lit street corner in a surprisingly nice, suburban neighborhood.
My evening's date was waiting there, huddled in on herself under her own heavy, winter coat and probably regretting that she'd chosen to wear a knee-length skirt for the evening. She smiled at me as I approached, even as she shivered and I couldn't quite tell if the rosiness to her cheeks was just the cold, or if there was a bit of blush mixed in.
"Melody." I greeted her with a smile, doing my best to suppress a chatter. "I've a taxi waiting for us for another few minutes, or you can take me someplace; the night is yours. Shall we get out of the cold?" She gave an emphatic nod in response and grabbed my arm to lead me away.
After a minute or two of huddled-hurrying, she pulled me through the front door of a small house, whereupon we both immediately discarded any pretense of dignified restraint and set to vigorously rubbing ourselves to warmth--I did at one point take her calloused hands in my own to rub and warm them up, and this time there was no mistaking the blush. Once we'd finally warmed up enough to act like human beings again, she'd led me to a couch where an opened bottle of wine and two glasses waited (for a moment, I remembered with some wry amusement that I technically wasn't drinking age any more, but if she didn't care, I wasn't going to pretend to).
She was--and I can't quite believe that I'm saying this about Cricket--kind of weirdly adorable. Opposite the couch from me was a woman who could in all likelihood kick my ass with ease: five feet and six or seven inches of whipcord muscle covered in scars. A veteran pit fighter quick enough to actually dodge bullets... and she was bashful. She'd obviously put some effort into her appearance; she was wearing a very nice skirt and turtleneck sweater combination, along with lipstick and eyeshadow--the application looked just a little unpracticed, but not to the point of looking sloppy.
The poor woman--her whole nervous, vulnerable (possibly virginal?) demeanor was seriously clashing with my expectations of how a neo-nazi-affiliated villainess would be--was clearly at a loss for what to do now that I was there, sipping at her wine glass in between anxiously gripping the stem and wringing her hands.
"Melody," I began gently, "would you like me to take the lead?"
She nodded hesitantly, staring fixedly down into her wine.
I set my glass down on the nearby coffee table and moved to sit down next to her, my thigh brushing against hers. I took her wineglass and set it aside while she looked up into my eyes. "If at any point I do something you don't want, just give me a little push and I'll slow things down, alright?"
She nodded again, holding her hands together tightly.
I reached up to her, tracing my fingertips down her jawline toward her chin and drawing her face toward mine. She closed her eyes as we drew close. Her lips touched mine and she exhaled haltingly through her nose as I opened my mouth a little and tasted the wine still on her. Slowly, she let her mouth open and I slid my tongue forward to hers as she relaxed into the kiss.
Losing herself for a moment, she released a strange, buzzing sort of vocalization. Her eyes shot open and she jerked away from me as a look of panicked mortification flashed across her face.
"It's alright. It's alright," I said gently, "take a breath. I'm not going to run out the door." I reached around to rub her back as she took a few breaths. She smiled weakly back at me with clear relief. "Were you enjoying that?"
She nodded bashfully.
"Would you like to go further? Perhaps to bed?" She met my eyes and nodded again, still bashfully but with a hint of deliberate determination. As we both stood up, I let her grab my hand and pull me along.
Shortly thereafter, I found myself seated on the edge of her bed and watching her as she stood in front of me with her eyes closed, breathing heavily and clearly psyching herself up. For a moment she clenched and relaxed her fists before opening her eyes and straightening up her posture. Then, in two quick, fluid motions she shucked off her top and pulled down her skirt and panties, leaving her standing naked before me. She met my eyes with an almost challenging look despite her clear anxiety.
I looked her up and down. Incredibly fit and toned, with well-defined washboard abs and arms and legs corded with lean, wiry muscle. Her breasts were very small, and it was clear she'd never need to wear a bra for support, but her hips were wide enough that you couldn't call her androgynous. She was completely free of body hair, with the smooth look of a relatively recent professional waxing and overall, she could have passed for a fitness model if not for the scars criss-crossing nearly ever square inch of her pale skin. She gave a weak, nervous smile when I met her eyes again.
"Beautiful." I said. "I'm hard for you. Would you like to see?"
Her eyes lit up and her posture nearly collapsed in relief before she tackled me onto the bed. She started on my clothes with feverish abandon and I obligingly positioned myself to make the job easier for her until I finally lay naked on my back with her between my legs and her face inches away from my erection. Hesitantly, she put a hand on it, jumping a little when I made it jerk at her touch. She pulled herself closer, looking up into my eyes questioningly as she gave my cockhead a tentative lick.
"Tonight's for you, Melody. If that's something you'd like to try, I won't say no," I murmured, smiling down at her, "would you like me to reciprocate?"
In answer, she swung herself around to lay on top of me, spreading her legs and giving me a face full of freshly-showered-smelling pussy. Curling my hands around her thighs, I pulled her in a little and started teasing her labia with my tongue as I felt a warm wetness envelop my glans.
She grew wetter with each exploratory lick and after hearing how her breath hitched when I poked my tongue into her opening and when I swirled it around her clitoris, I started alternating between those two, taking care to avoid her urethra. Her breathing grew heavier and her wet motions on my cock grew wilder as I continued my efforts, keeping my rhythm steady. She started tensing up, abandoning her efforts at technique as she let simply let her head fall and her mouth engulf as much of my cock as she was able. I felt an intense buzzing vibration around my cock as her whole body went rigid and it took nearly all my concentration not to come into her mouth right then from that incredible sensation of her hot, wet, buzzing mouth. She continued to twitch and jerk as I kept tonguing until she frantically tapped me on the leg a few times in surrender.
She rolled off me once I released her and lied there with her chest heaving for a minute. "What you were doing, that humming thing?" I said down to her. "It felt amazing. Really. I almost lost control and nearly came right into your mouth." I chuckled lightly when down near, I saw her raise a lackadaisical thumbs-up near my feet. "Well, if you're up for more, I'm still hard for you. I've got some condoms in my pants' pocket...and I'd love to come while I'm inside you."
She kicked her legs and sat up jerkily before rolling off the bed. Briefly, I heard her rustling around with my clothes before she triumphantly scrambled back onto the bed with a condom packet. I started to push myself up onto my elbows before halting when she laid a hand on my chest. "You'd like to be on top?"
She nodded at me with a sheepish little smile.
"Of course," I acquiesced, returning her smile and leaning back. A ripped packet and a second or two of fumbling later, and she was slowly rolled the condom onto my cock with meticulous fascination. She straddled me, scooting her knees around as she positioned herself and, gripping my cock lightly to hold it in place, began lowering herself slowly.
She was incredibly tight; her pussy was one of the tightest I'd ever felt even after she'd only managed to get me an inch-and-a-half inside. She halted her progress, breathing heavily and grimacing slightly at the intensity. I reached forward to rub around her thighs and waist. "It's OK," I said soothingly, "there's no rush. It's fine to go at your own pace and let your body get used to me." I flexed just a little, pushing into her another quarter-inch as she gave a light gasp. "Small motions. Deeper, little-by-little." She started moving her hips, short little pushes down onto me as she leaned forward, placing a hand on my chest. "That's it," I encouraged her, "little-by-little. You're doing so well." She smiled a moment before her expression returned to one of concentration as with another push her tense cunt's grip was halfway down my cock. I could feel her pressure loosening just a little bit as she grew wetter and with each push started making easier progress. "You're getting there; can you feel it?" She gave another quick, breathless smile as she nodded. "Is it starting to feel good?" She nodded again. "You've almost got my *whole* cock inside of you. You're doing so well," I repeated, and with one last push and a buzzing vocalization the last of my length was buried in her. A slow, almost proud smile spread over her face as she looked down at me in triumph.
"Beautifully done, my dear." I pulsed my cock, making her breath hitch. "Now, how about we find out just how good we can make you feel?"
She leaned forward and kissed me, taking the lead with her tongue this time. I reached down, grabbing onto her firm, muscled ass for leverage as I began stroking up into her. Clumsily at first, she started rolling her hips to try to match my rhythm, and she buzzed in her throat again as her clit brushed and rubbed against my pubic area. If she was still self-conscious about her buzzing, she no longer showed it; our tongues kept dueling as we fucked and adjusted our pace to each other. With each pulse and thrust she buzzed a little louder and her gyrations grew a little more wild.
Losing her coordination, she mashed her lips loosely against as she started shaking and throat buzzed in weird oscillations. I felt her heart pounding against my chest and her wet cunt spastically clenching down on my cock and I stopped holding back, thrusting vigorously a few more times before erupting in her, groaning around her tongue into her mouth as her abdominals twitched and shook out of sync with my pulsing.
She released my mouth and lay limply on top of me as our heartbeats and breathing slowed. After a little while, I whispered "I need to pull out before I get soft and the condom's a problem." I suppressed a chuckle as she jolted upright and pulled herself off me with sudden urgency. "Hey, it's alright! No spillage, see? Now, could you point me to the bathroom?"
After I finished, she seemed a little surprised and pleased when I asked her if she wanted me to stay the night--although she needn't have been surprised as she'd paid for the privilege. She smiled and nodded before running off to take her own turn in the bathroom, and I crawled under the covers. She returned to join me not too long afterward, curling into my chest as the little spoon.
My last thought before drifting off was that while I'm not usually into buzzcuts on women, it was nice not to have long hair in my face as the big spoon.
***Saturday morning***
Before I awoke the next morning, I found myself dreaming that a woman with a vibrating mouth was sucking me off and I was about to cum. My eyes fluttered open, and I looked downward to see her between my legs, my cock halfway in her mouth. "Melody...wait..." I grunted, and she looked up to meet my eyes. "You're gonna make me cum..." She pulled off to give me a cheeky grin before diving onto my cock once more and her buzzing filled the room as she vibrated even more intensely and then I was shooting pulse after pulse into her mouth groaning as I was overwhelmed at the combined humming and wet suction coursing through my dick.
"Jesus..." I said after regaining a little composure. "You're really good at that." Her answering smile was particularly smug, although she didn't open her mouth.
It was right about then that she suddenly stiffened in alarm. She hurriedly swallowed--and grimaced. Poor woman, if I'd been expecting that, I'd have eaten more fruit and fewer oniony things the last few days--before jumping up off the bed in a hurry. I looked at her in confused concern until I heard the front door open.
"MELODY!" Shouted a furious man's voice. "GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!! I KNOW WHAT YOU DID, YOU BITCH, I CAN SMELL IT! AND HIM! YOU'RE DEAD, YOU FUCKER!!"
Shit shit shit shit...
Spoiler: Quest Update
Repeatable Quest: The Lay of the Land
Primary Objective: Fuck a parahuman or a plot-relevant normal.
Sub-Quest Completed: A Prick For Cricket
Primary Reward: 1 Stat Point, 1 Skill Point
Cricket-Specific Additional Reward: +2 Stat Points, +2 Skill Points, Cricket's Perk
Bonus Reward (Emotional Dr Feelgood): +1 Skill Point
Bonus Reward (She Comes First): +1 Skill Point
Bonus Reward (The Shit I Came Into Her Mouth): +1 Skill Point
Bonus Reward (Cherry Stealing Whore): +1 Stat Point, 1 Skill Point
Spoiler: Quest Update
Repeatable Quest: How You Gonna Pay the Rent, Boy?
Objective: Have sex with a willing, viable partner and be paid for it. For this Quest, viable means those partners who have their own available "The Lay of the Land" sub-quests.
Completed!
Details: Join the proud ranks of the world's oldest profession and be a ho!
Reward: 1 Stat Point, 1 Skill Point
*****
Spoiler: end of chapter Character Sheet
Author's note: There were a few moments in here where I just couldn't help myself. As always, please don't hesitate to point out typos and mistakes. I gave it all a once-over, but I do tend miss things now and then. Anyway, I do hope it's fun!
*****
I'd barely managed to bounce myself off the bed, still buck naked, when the bedroom door slammed open, revealing a tall, pale, and muscular man wearing an open winter coat without a shirt on underneath--which was striking me as more than a little ridiculous given it'd been snowing just last night, even as I couldn't help but feel like that was a familiar detail.
"YOU..." he shouted, trailing off as he took in an eyeful of my nudity.
"Crap. Hey, let me put my pants on before anything else, yeah?"
He shook himself briefly before glaring hatefully my way. "No," he snarled at me, "I don't owe you that dignity."
I automatically backpedaled as he advanced a step on me, activating Mana Shield and quickly dumping a point into Magic. My heel caught on my clothes and I tripped, yelping as I landed on my butt. Expecting an attack, I looked back up, only to see Melody had interposed herself between us (looking a touch more dignified than I, as she'd managed to put on a tank top. Under other circumstances, I might have appreciated being nearly eye level with her bare ass).
She was holding some sort of cylinder to her throat. "John-you-shouldn't-be-here," she said in a robotic monotone.
It was right about then, as I was scrambling to gather my clothing, that there was a pop of displaced air and a fourth person was standing in the room.
She was wearing an overwhelming amount of purple velvet. A long, purple, velvet coat with zebra-striped trim hanging down to her calves. Purple velvet bell-bottom slacks. An enormous, wide, purple hat with zebra-striped mouse ears--she'd pulled the silly, monstrous thing down past her nose but she could still see out the eyeholes it had above the brim. Zebra-striped rollerskates. She completed the ensemble with a low-cut, shiny gold shirt that flaunted generous cleavage, and a cane-scepter-thing that seemed to have speakers up and down it's length.
"Pimp Momma Mouse to the rescue! I got you, Ho!" She jubilantly hollered, striking a pose before her eyes zeroed in on Melody's bare ass. "Damn, girl! You do lunges?"
For a moment, the two of them stared at her in stupefied disbelief before they refocused back on me.
"I've... uh... got a parahuman bodyguard."
"Get it right, Ho, I'm your pimp!" She pouted.
I sighed. "Yes, right you are, Pimp Momma Mouse." In an instant, her pout was replaced by a beaming smile.
"Melody... you... hired a prostitute??" said...John? For a moment, I suppressed a chuckle at the fact that only the John in this room wasn't the person who'd hired me. Does this make Melody my Jane? "How could you?" he said, seemingly wavering between rage and devastation.
"We've-been-over-for-weeks-John," Melody replied coldly. "I-was-very-clear. My-sex-life-is-no-longer-your-business."
"You didn't mean it! I was giving you your space!" Mouse was giving him a bemused, pitying look and I'd just managed to finish pulling my pants back on. "You hired a prostitute after we decided to wait until marriage!"
Melody's expression had been cold before, but now it was furious. "We-didn't-decide. You-did. You-decided-you-wanted-to-save-yourself-for-marriage. But-you-didn't-tell-me-that-until-after-I'd-taken-my-clothes-off. Do-you-know-what-it's-like. How-it-feels. The-first-and-only-man-who-sees-you-naked. The-man-who-you-thought-wanted-to-marry-you-sees-your-body-and-his-next-words. Are. Let's-wait-until-we're-married."
I winced, sucking in an involuntary breath through my teeth. "Oh... Honey..." muttered Mouse.
"But..." John sputtered weakly "it would have been better... more pure! If we waited until marriage..."
"You-could-have-told-me-you-felt-that-way-before-I'd-taken-my-clothes-off. Do-you-have-any-idea. The-slightest. How-ugly. How-ugly-and-miserable. That-made-me-feel." Her chest was heaving and her features contorted in incandescent rage. "Get-the-Hell-out-of-my-house-John," she ground out.
John stepped back, and from his defeated, slumped posture, it looked like he was about to leave without any more fuss.
That was when Mouse started talking.
"Hey," said Mouse. "Melody, right? If it helps any, I'm not sure he would've been able to get it up for any woman, no matter how hot." John froze in his retreat. "Don't know if you noticed, but...this whole time? Johnnyboy, there, was lookin' a lot more at my pretty Ho than at either of us." John face twisted in anger, his fists clenching.
"...Mouse? What the fuck are you doing?" I whispered to her.
"Trying to give Melody a pep talk?" She replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I mean, I'm assuming you didn't have any problems getting it up for her 'cause despite everything she looks pretty happily-dicked, so yay self-esteem! But knowing that reason her ex-fiancee wasn't DTF is because he's probably gay..." John's face was turning red "...might help too."
"But why are you doing that while he's still...here..." For a moment, I could almost swear that he was about to go super-saiyan and actually, weirdly enough, a breeze from nowhere was ruffling his hair upward. I swallowed and my ears popped. My eyes widened as it finally clicked in my head.
"STORMT-" I tried to shout before I was rudely interrupted.
~BOOOOOM~
Glass shatters and I'm knocked on my ass again. A high-pitched whine--ringing in my ears? No, it's Melody curled up on the floor over there...and the big, gay neonazi is standing over me. "I...will forgive Melody for her transgression. But not before your death, degenerate," he growls with a sneer, and Oh shit I'm going to have to out myself and I dump a couple points into Body and activate Quick Thinking and the world slows down, when Minnie pops into being next to me, her cane already mid-swing but Stormtiger is reacting too quickly and already moving so I prepare a Strike and lash out from the floor with a kick to his shin which connects, but he only winces as his weight is on his other leg and my leverage isn't great but the distraction is enough and Minnie gets a somewhat good grazing hit off his head, and I deactivate Quick Thinking as he stumbles back.
"Thanks, Ho," says Mouse cheerfully, "but you should back off. I got this one."
"Like Hell you do," grunts Stormtiger.
Apparently paying his words no mind, she does something to make her cane ~CLICK~ and music sounds out from it.
~Well, you can tell by the way I use his cock~
~He's my working man and he's on clock~
With a twirl on her rollerskates (it's a damn good thing this is a hardwood floor), she flings a fistful of pennies all around the room, then immediately vanishing as Stormtiger flings a slash of air through the space she'd just occupied; I feel a pressure wave in my ears as the paint scratches on the wall.
~'fI get paid then he'll perform; spreadin' dick around~
~Keeps my heart warm~
She pops into being next to him, jabbing her cane at his midsection, then blinking to his opposite side a moment later as he reacts. He lets out a pained grunt when he takes the hit in the kidney.
~And now it's alright, it's okay~
~I've got primo dick most every day~
~It's not hard to understand~
~Why I get wet pimpin' this man~
She repeats the same trick again, this time just barely missing Stormtiger's diaphragm. He retches and, doubling over, throws wind all about himself, but he's too late; she's not even in the room any more.
~If you need a lover, it don't matter you're a mother~
~Call Pimp Momma Mouse, Pimp Momma Mouse~
~If your heart's a-breakin' or if your cunt's been achin'~
~Call Pimp Momma Mouse, Pimp Momma Mouse~
She appears again on his left and he reacts immediately when she blinks again by throw another blade of air to his right, but she's behind him this time and a rollerskate can be seen kicking upward into his crotch. He gives a high-patched groan through his gritted teeth.
~Spend your cash with Pimp Momma Mouse, Pimp Momma Mouse~
~Rent a ho from Pimp Momma Moooouuuusssssse~
Stormtiger is looking angry, staggered, and a little sick, but is still on his feet and is now maintaining a constant whirlwind around himself. The pressure waves are hurting my ears and Melody is curling up on herself even more tightly. He keeps throwing blades of wind around the room wherever Mouse appears, but can't seem to catch her.
"Stop fucking around and just finish him!" I call out from the floor.
"My song's not done yet!" She hollers back.
~If you're old or if you're dry~
~He'll bring some lube, no need to cry~
"You're wrecking Melody's house!" I shout.
"...oh. Crap. That's my bad." She replies.
~He's a sweet bedwarmer you can use~
~Just don't forget to pay your dues~
A moment later Stormtiger starts toppling forward when he finds he's suddenly carrying an extra hundred-something pounds and a faceful of Mouse Protector's midriff as she clutches his head while crushing on his neck with her thighs.
~And now it's alright, it's okay~
~I've got primo dick most every day~
His arms windmill comically and Mouse has already blinked away before he hits the ground. A moment later, she appears next to him swinging her cane like a golf club into his head and with an audible ~THUMP~ he falls limp and the wind dies down. It's over, and with a ~CLICK~ Mouse stops the music.
With the wind and pressure waves gone, both Melody and I crawled to our feet. I looked over the bedroom; pennies and broken glass from the shattered windows littered the floor. The temperature was rapidly dropping as cold air flooded in through the open windowpanes. The walls were a mess: the paint's been scratched, chipped, and blasted off, taking a non-insignificant amount of the drywall with it, with wooden framing sitting exposed at a few spots. The mattress and sheets were shredded, pillow-stuffing was lazily drifting from the incoming cold air, and the bedside lamps were twisted and broken. Approaching sirens sounded as Melody fixed Mouse with a pained and angry glare.
"So..." Mouse gave a sheepish smile. "...maybe I should have finished that a little faster."
"Maybe you also should've waited until he was outside her house to say anything provoke the large, insecure, and emotionally-distraught man who turned out to be a supervillain." I responded drily. She grimaced.
I turned to Melody, who was still glaring at Mouse. "Are you alright, Melody? Those enclosed-space pressure waves seemed to hit you pretty hard."
She gave me a weak smile and a thumbs-up before wincing and changing to a so-so gesture.
"In my defense," began Mouse, "Stormtiger was the one who did almost all of the actual damage..." she cut herself off at Melody's renewed glare.
I sighed. "So, Melody. Just strictly hypothetically and feel free to ignore this but, if you happened to know a Villain..." Melody was giving me a wary look. Better cut to the chase with my bullshit. "...who'd had a falling out with her old comrades, I bet the PRT would jump on the chance to recruit her into the Protectorate. Provided she hadn't dropped any bodies, I bet said hypothetical, defecting Villain could actually come out pretty far ahead in such a deal...and I'm not an expert here, but possibly including assistance with handling insurance claims."
Mouse piped up. "Sidney also gives a discount to Heroes."
"Yeah," I returned, taking her cue, "even occasional pro-bono work for the real sweethearts when I can..."
Melody looked pensive as the sirens drew closer.
Spoiler: Quest Update
Repeatable Quest: Dick Defector
Objective: Get a parahuman to switch sides with your dick.
Details: Persuade a parahuman to switch sides (Hero to Villain or Villain to Hero) in a way that somehow involves your dick. Limited to one completion per parahuman.
Reward: 1 Prestige Skill Point
Note: Spending a Prestige Skill Point on a skill upgrades that skill in a way that can't be achieved with through normal Skill Points. Targeted skill must have a minimum level of 10 or higher, with a maximum of 1 additional Prestige Skill Points spent for each additional 10 levels (i.e. a level 30 skill may have up to 3 Prestige Skill Points spent on it in total).
Completions: 1 (Cricket)
*****
Spoiler: end of chapter Character Sheet
Post-script Author's note: I switched to present-tense during the action sequence; did it work? How do folks feel about that?
Author's note: had some trouble getting the tone right with this one, but the show must go on and I don't want to stall out by taking too long. Have a chapter. As always, if you see any goofs, please let me know!
*****
***An hour later, Armsmaster's office***
"So, in summary; the night went smoothly. It was only when Cricket's ex-boyfriend showed up the following morning that events went off track, at which point Mouse Protector..."
"Pimp Momma Mouse!" Minnie perkily corrected him.
Armsmaster scowled briefly. "...teleported into the room after hearing shouting from the receiver. Cricket deescalated the situation...there's a sentence I never thought I'd have to say...and the ex-boyfriend in question was about to remove himself, at which point you..." he pointed at Minnie again.
"Pimp Momma Mouse!" She re-iterated.
"...I absolutely refuse to call you by that name. You began loudly insinuating that he, the large ex-boyfriend with almost certain neo-nazi sympathies, was likely a homosexual."
"I think I also might have said something like 'he probably can't get it up for a woman anyway'. He really didn't like that!"
Armsmaster glowered at her for a few seconds before grunting in exasperation and continuing. "It was then that he revealed himself to be Stormtiger in explosive fashion and attacked, incapacitating Cricket and knocking over Hyperion."
"That's when I kicked his ass."
"To all appearances, you wouldn't have needed to had you not antagonized him."
"Yeah, but then you wouldn't have Stormtiger tied up in a cell right now."
"Did you know" Armsmaster asked quietly "that he was Stormtiger before he attacked?"
"No, just some big, gay nazi..."
"So," he interrupted, raising his voice a little, "for all you knew, this 'big, gay nazi' could have been any one of Cricket's known associates? Possibly even Hookwolf?"
"I... guess so?"
"If it had been Hookwolf," he wasn't quite shouting, but he was close to it, "are you confident that you could have extracted Hyperion safely?"
"...uh..."
"BECAUSE I AM NOT!" He thundered, then paused to take a breath in the shocked silence. "You were lucky that you didn't get Hyperion killed, Mouse. You should have known better. Honestly, I should have known better than to expect better from you. Were you in my chain of command, you'd be under disciplinary review, and if Hyperion had died or been seriously injured, you'd be facing charges. But you aren't in my chain of command, and be very glad that Hyperion has come out of this alive and whole. So. Hyperion." He turned to me. "Until I say otherwise, there will be no further outings with known or suspected villains without additional Protectorate or PRT assistance. Mouse Protector, not being Protectorate, does not qualify, and further I will not be approving any such outings that have her involvement. Am I understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Mouse Protector." Looking poleaxed, she didn't bother to correct him this time. "If the time comes that I feel you can be trusted not to endanger the life of one of the very few healing capes in the Protectorate with your recklessness, I may reconsider. For now, just go home, Minerva."
Closing her gaping mouth and visibly wilting, she trudged out of the room without another word.
After the door closed, Armsmaster relaxed and ran a hand over his face. "I don't hate the woman," he muttered, half to himself, "but my God can she ever be aggravating." He turned back to me. "I don't find much fault with your own behavior, Hyperion. In my view, your decision to leave the lion's share of the fighting to Mouse Protector at her request was reasonable, given your own inexperience and limited training... but we would be remiss if we didn't learn from this. I will be assigning you a minimum of two hours of combat training, every day, for the next two weeks--given that your powers seem to have improved your stamina, I'd suggest even more if you can manage the time. In addition, for each of those days, I want you to seek out and spar with at least one Protectorate hero. Two weeks from today, I will evaluate your progress, and at such time I will assess the feasibility of loosening your restrictions on consorting with villains."
Spoiler: Quest Update
Quest Event: Preparation Hero.
Primary Objective: Perform up to Armsmaster's minimal expectations when he evaluates the results of your training.
Bonus Objective: Perform beyond Armsmaster's expectations.
Primary Reward: +2 Stat Points, +4 Skill Points
Bonus Reward: Varies.
Failure: No loosening of restrictions. Possibly additional restrictions.
Spoiler: Quest Update
Quest Event: Running Train on the Protectorate ENE.
Objective (1): Win a spar against Armsmaster.
Objective (2): Win a spar against Assault.
Objective (3): Win a spar against Battery.
Objective (4): Win a spar against Dauntless.
Objective (5): Win a spar against Miss Militia.
Objective (6): Win a spar against Velocity.
Individual Reward: +1 Skill Point
Completion Bonus: +3 Stat Point, +6 Skill Points, (hidden)
"Now then, your 'boost' from Cricket: have you used it yet?"
"I still have most of it."
"Alright. While improving your healing remains a priority, I also want you to begin prioritizing two other things in particular: removing yourself from danger and subduing hostiles non-lethally. Your capacity for both will be part of your evaluation. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Hyperion, despite my frustrations, you've done well. That you managed to persuade an Empire cape to surrender herself peacefully with the intent to defect to us is a real win. I imagine there will be interest in utilizing your talents as a 'diplomatic asset' once we're more confident that we can mitigate the risks involved. Regardless, good work."
"Thank you, sir."
"Unfortunately however, there is greater context that complicates all this. I will be holding a more in-depth briefing for all local Protectorate a little later, but given how agitated the E88 is right now, I will be requiring that you limit your time off-base and be ready to provide emergency healing as necessary. Any questions?"
"Yes, actually. What's going to happen with Cricket?"
"I'm not directly involved with processing her, but if I were to speculate? She wasn't wanted on murder, rape, or kidnapping charges; this makes it a lot easier for us to cut her a deal that avoids prison and gives her probationary Protectorate status. She'd likely be transferred out of Brockton Bay--these transitions tend to be easier when the individual in question is kept away from direct contact and conflict with criminal former associates. Because of what charges she does have against her and questions about her ideological motivations, she'll likely be under strict supervision for a time. I'd guess a few years, but exactly how long and how strict her supervision will be would likely depend on her own efforts toward reformation and atonement. Beyond that, Director Piggot would be privy to more details than I. Anything else?" I shook my head. "Then we're done here. You may see yourself out."
I found Minnie waiting for me in the hall. Up to that point, I'd only ever seen her carry herself with an exuberant, hip-rolling swagger, but there and then it looked like her normal bearing was warring with uncertainty. It was a bizarre look on her.
"High Peen...I fucked up, didn't I."
I let out a slow breath. "Yeah. Yeah, you did."
"Would it help if I let you fuck me in the ass?" She asked with a hopeful expression.
"Minnie...that sounds like fun and yeah, I'd be happy to under other circumstances, but letting me fuck your ass doesn't really feel like much of an apology when that it's something that you'd have wanted anyway."
Her face fell. "Oh. Can I still make it up to you somehow?"
"I don't know. Maybe. I think I'm gonna need some space for a while."
"Okay," she said miserably. "I'm sorry, Squiggs. I'll leave you alone. I hope you forgive me...I...I don't have many friends."
With that, she vanished. Despite being upset with her--and given that she'd endangered my life, I think I had pretty good reason--I still felt like I'd just kicked a puppy. Damnit.
I was still a touch morose when I entered at Director Piggot's office.
"Director? I'm here and freshly debriefed," I forced a smile. She didn't look fooled.
"You're rattled," she stated.
I slumped a little. "Is it weird that, after how nicely everything turned out, I'm having trouble focusing on the positives?"
"...and instead you're focusing on how your loose-cannon friend-with-benefits went all reckless cowgirl at the worst time?"
"Yeah." I paused. "I could take or leave the reckless, but I'm normally a fan of cowgirl."
"Ha. Ha." She responded with a straight face--although, weirdly enough, I got the sense she was a little amused anyway. Maybe I was getting better at reading her. "Not *that* rattled, I suppose."
"I'll be OK. Just need some time away from Mouse Protector, I think."
"If I had a nickel..." she murmured, and I smirked a little more genuinely at that. "But on to business.
"Firstly, you might be interested in hearing that our talks with Cricket have been going surprisingly smoothly. It seems you caught her at a time when she was particularly keen on starting fresh, and however you managed it behind closed doors," the corner of her mouth twitched just a hair "it's looking like New York will be getting a new probationary hero in the near future. Kudos. Now, she has mentioned an interest in occasionally seeing you again in particular...Did you unmask to her?"
"Er... no, I definitely didn't. Should I?"
"That's entirely up to you, although if you're thinking of doing so, I'd suggest waiting and seeing how well she settles in first." She scowled. "But with that in mind, the way she'd brought you up suggests that she was hoping to have you occasionally visit her as an escort and have the PRT foot your bill."
"So, hypothetically, if I did just that, and had the PRT foot my bill of zero dollars and zero cents, would everything be kosher?"
She gave a small smile. "Possibly. But perhaps, when things are calmer and you're more settled in yourself, we might be able to find a good reason for the PRT to pay for your travel expenses for a weekend in New York."
"Well, I certainly wouldn't mind. Sounds like it'd help Cricket--or I guess whatever her new cape name will be--settle in, too."
"How magnanimous of you." She said drily. "I have only one other order of business for you right now; we've been in contact with Abigail Clements, and she is amenable to being available for a power testing session."
"Oh? Oh! Um. She's not married is she?"
"She is, but to all appearances that won't be a problem. Her husband has given his approval, but..." she trailed off.
"But?"
"...but it's conditional on him being there in the room. Apparently, they're both quite enthusiastic about the prospect. Him watching, and her being watched."
"...huh. Not exactly my favorite thing...but I can probably work with that. Alright. When?"
"Tomorrow afternoon. 2pm. They were adamant it not be in the morning because they'll be at their Sunday church service." Now, she was definitely smirking. "I'm not joking."
"Church before fornication, as they say. Or, as I'm sure someone out there says. As I suspect that the Clements couple would say?" I responded with my own suppressed smile. "Hmmm. Do you think you could request that she still be wearing whatever fancy clothes she wears to church?"
Her face went flat. "There are limits, Hyperion. Don't push them."
"Right, right, sorry."
I really hope that they don't make it too awkward.
*****
Post-script author's note: What do folks think about where if instead of posting the entire character sheet at the end of every chapter, I only post changes incurred in that chapter and have a separate informational post that I update with every change?
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