Chapter 23: Say My Name
"What the fuck?"
There were plenty of reasons that Max wouldn't have been surprised to have these be the first words out of his mouth upon arriving home. Bodies on the floor of the living room… a gun pointed in his face for whatever reason Rose could muster on that particular day…
…But not having anything inside of his apartment at all? He was not prepared for that.
Max could only stare in complete shock and horror at the sight of a completely empty apartment. From ceiling-to-floor, wall-to-wall, room-by-room, it was all completely bare. He had lived there for most of his life, and he didn't even know that the place could look empty.
"Where's all my stuff?" Max asked, cringing at the echo his voice left in the empty unit. Did he get robbed? There was no way Rose stole from him. She didn't do that. That was his thing, "...This is not good?"
"Gabriel?"
Max turned around to his front door to see his landlord standing there watching him have a crisis. All of a sudden, the young man stopped and tried to act like he hadn't been running around in a panic seconds before, "Yes?"
"Your girlfriend gave the notice that you two were moving,"
"...What?" Max didn't know what to deal with first. The thought that Rose was his girlfriend, or that she had moved him out while he had been gone, "I'm... I... Huh?"
The landlord rolled his eyes and walked over, "She said to give this to you when you got back," He said, handing over an envelope. Inside was a piece of paper with an address and directions on it, "Shame to see you go. You actually paid your rent on time more than anyone else for the last few months. Take it easy, kid."
"Yeah..." Max said, beginning to wrap his mind around the fact that all of these things were really happening, "Thanks. I will."
XxX
(One Hour Later – South Gotham City – Tricomber Island)
Max walked through the doors of a pretty nifty two-floor townhouse. It was the address inside of the envelope that Rose left his landlord, and the key inside also worked.
Inside, he found the place fully furnished with new things. On a couch in the living room, Rose lay sprawled out on the couch, watching TV until she noticed he was there.
The silver-haired mercenary's daughter sat up and grinned, "Welcome home, honey."
Max was not amused. His expression was fixed in a scowl that he'd held for the entire time he'd walked over, "I am so livid, right now," He said in a disturbingly calm voice, "I don't even know how you did that. I don't even know how you did this! I was gone for three days! Were you that bored while I was gone?"
Rose didn't react at all to Max's clear foul mood, even though she was the cause of it, "First of all, yes. I was," She admitted, "But that's not important right now. It's not why I did this. Daddy's back in town."
And that superseded everything else that was happening right now, "Oh. Fuck," Max cursed.
"Uh-huh," Rose felt much the same way when he'd showed up in front of her, "And he found out I was staying in your apartment."
Max winced and ran a hand through his brown locks in worry, "Double-fuck."
Rose nodded, "Yep. But, seeing as how he doesn't know your name, and you left the apartment under your parents' names, he figured I just took over the rent under some dead guy's name. He doesn't know you were living there too," She saw Max visibly relax. Good. She didn't want to freak him out. He just needed to know what was going on, "That being said, I figured it would be prudent to move you out."
Well in that case he owed her a solid. It was a good move, and something he had been planning to do eventually, "And you decided to come with me instead of getting your own place?"
The question got a grumbling response, "...Shut up," Rose said, "How was Metropolis?"
Max busied himself with looking around what were apparently supposed to be his new digs. There was so much more space now. It made him realize how few possessions he actually had, which was odd for a thief, "Oh, you know. I almost died a bunch of times. I stole something cool, by the way. It's at the hideout."
Rose loosened up a lot when Max returned, almost immediately. She had been on pins and needles since her father's return to Gotham City, but for the most part that had gone away when he walked through the door, "I'll have to believe it when I see it. You don't steal cool crap."
"Whatever you say, Rav," Max shot back. Rose shouted an obscenity in response to the nickname. Max ignored it, "So what else went down while I was gone?"
Rose set her fuzzy feeling aside and played it cool, as though Max could see through walls and feel her out from instinct, "Nothing important. I'm gonna need your help soon... for the thing."
The thing being the job to cause an inmate break at Arkham Asylum. Max still didn't want any part of that, but Rose had helped him a lot lately. It was time to return the favor, basically, "I really don't like this. I don't see how letting people out who are already behind bars somehow does anything for Intergang."
Whenever this came up, Max made it clear just how uneasy he felt with the whole thing. Rose didn't know if he was getting used to smelling a rat or what, "You know how I told you Mannheim told me to do this?" She ventured to say. Honesty went a long way, didn't it? She was about to find out, "...It was the Penguin."
Max stopped scuffling around the back rooms and walked back to the living room where the mercenary girl was, "Rose-."
Rose stopped him before he could try and get on a roll. Otherwise she'd never have gotten a word in nonviolently, "It'll help me do Mannheim's thing though. Remember, he still wants me to off some of Gotham's criminal players. Well, this'll give me the chance to get to a good chunk of 'em!"
"This is gonna go so bad."
"Not for you and not for me," Rose said, doing her best to appeal to Max's sense of hands-off consequence, "Plus I'm probably gonna kill 'em later anyway! It'll be fine! Daddy will be there. He'll take all of the heat."
Bringing Deathstroke back into the conversation didn't give Max any sense of security. Quite the opposite to be exact, "If he sees me again, he might actually kill me this time," He said, "Selina tried to take him down, remember? She put him onto me. He knows I'm her protege."
Rose's single eye widened. With all of the other reasons that Deathstroke might have had to be angry with Max, that one had slipped her mind, "I actually did forget about that."
Wonderful. As if being him wasn't dangerous enough.
XxX
(The Next Day)
As cool as Max felt new house was, it came with its own set of problems.
Somehow Rose had gotten all of his utilities set up before he'd gotten back. That hadn't been an issue. But now Max's daily routine had been altered. He had to find an all-new public transportation route to get himself to school. To hell with taking a school bus. He wasn't getting up early enough to catch the big yellow monstrosity and get stuck in traffic just to barely make it to class on time anyway.
Since he had a car of his own now, he might have thought about transportation on the road. But he didn't have a student parking pass for the school, so that wasn't an option of convenience for him. At the moment, Gotham City's train system was his best friend, as it had always been. He just had to get used to the schedule from where he was living now.
Headphones in, he lazily slogged to the station closest to his new home, a metro map in his hand trying to make sure he was going to arrive at the right time for departure.
With a yawn, Max ambled up to the platform, music drowning out the sound of subway noise – announcements, screeching rails, people. Especially people. Namely, someone who tried to get his attention once they saw him.
A tap on his shoulder prompted Max to turn around and face a redhead that he didn't expect to see until at least an hour from then, "Oh! Barbara!" He shouted in surprise after noticing her.
"I tried calling you four times," She said, touching at the headphone line that dangled down his chest, "I can see why you couldn't hear me."
"Sorry," Max apologized for making her basically chase him just to have a word, "...Err, what are you doing in Tricomber Island anyway?"
Barbara seemed amused by such a question, "I live in this part of town, Max. Like, a five minute walk from here. What are you doing here? I've literally never seen you around here before."
Max pointed north, where he had come from days earlier, "I moved out of my old place."
Barbara seemed surprised, "You can afford a house in Tricomber Island?" Commissioner Gordon could afford it, but that was because of his high-ranking position at the GCPD.
Max kicked himself for not coming up with a story. In his defense, he hadn't expected to run into anyone from school who knew where he had been living before. He had no idea how much money it took to get the townhouse he was in. He had never bothered to ask Rose, seeing as how money wasn't a problem for the time being.
"I found a pretty sweet deal," He said, trying to think on his feet to end this somehow before he talked himself into a hole, "Besides, I couldn't stay in the apartment anymore. I figured it was time to go. Two years hanging around all of my parents' old stuff was long enough, right?"
It was a cheap shot using his own parents and people's discomfort of talking about the notably deceased to get out of the conversation. That was not the reason he moved out. He left because as Null, he'd dumped his tired, beaten body through the window of that apartment and made suspicious noises too many times to risk living there and keep his identity a secret.
His words had the intended affect though. Barbara seemed to back down a bit from questioning him, "Right. I'm just glad you're doing well these days," She said with a supportive smile, "It wasn't that long ago that a lot of people were worried about you."
Max fought the urge to laugh. He didn't do it out loud because Barbara was being nice, and laughing would have been rude. He sincerely doubted that anyone had been concerned with his well-being. After all, that was why he became a thief in the first place, because he had been sinking and no one tried to help, "Thanks, but I'm pretty sure that's an exaggeration. I don't even think the teachers cared, except for the part where my grades were dropping."
Barbara gave him an awkward eye before seemingly leaving the matter alone, "You're an awkward guy, Max."
Was it that obvious that he wasn't comfortable? He needed to shape up with that, and also to think three steps ahead now that they were there and talking. It wasn't like he could run home and think up a story for himself before heading back out.
It wasn't just Barbara herself that concerned Max. It was scary enough to think of her finding out, not because of her in particular. It was because of her uncle... who had adopted her... who she lived with... who was Commissioner James Gordon... who was now a stone's throw away from where he lived.
To say that it was difficult to play it cool on the train ride and the walk the rest of the way to school was an understatement.
XxX
(Some Time Later – Elsewhere In Gotham City – Miller Harbor)
As commissioner with one of the most dynamic, active criminal societies in the entire world, James Gordon's shifts started at 11 p.m. and continued until well after dawn. After all, the worst of the city's wrongs were committed in the dead of night, and sometimes people didn't catch a glimpse to call it in until the sun revealed the violent acts performed by man when no one could see.
Gordon's shift had technically ended back at 7 in the morning. That had been two hours ago. The fight against crime didn't care about the overtime on your timecard. Gordon didn't either. He'd clocked out before coming.
"What have you got for me this morning, gents?" The city's top cop asked officers waiting for him just outside of the taped off scene. Behind the yellow lines, the hustle and bustle of investigation teams moved through, "I need a little something to obsess over all day long before I head back in tonight."
The first officer let out a snort and raised the crime scene tape for his boss, "Hey, the bullshit in this city never sleeps, Commish. Why should any of us get to?" He tried to joke before getting down to business, "This place got ripped and stripped. These guys weren't here guarding nothing, but hell if it isn't gone now."
It was a grisly scene, even for Gotham City. Thirteen corpses littered the area around the warehouse, riddled with bullets. It looked like a major gang battle had broken out over something worth value, only the bodies were all from one organization.
He could wait for ballistics to come back so could start delving into the investigation in earnest, but for now, he could try and speculate on what he had available before his eyes.
"This was a one-sided slaughter, Commissioner," One of the first officers to respond to the scene reported as he walked with Gordon, "The call came in at 2:15 a.m., we made it here by 2:27, and it was over."
A second younger, more bewildered officer interjected, "Whoever did this had their shit together. I mean, this was coordinated," He stepped back self-consciously when he noticed his older partner and Gordon's attention on him, "Fucking surgical, sir."
The older policeman gave his partner a look before shaking his head and sighing, "He's right. I would say this kind of precision is military, but it's not-."
"-It's not a synchronized assault," Commissioner Gordon finished for the officer, "A team of professionals moving in step would have left less of a mess. The fact that it looks like these guys at least tried to fight back means our suspects lacked numbers to roll them up in one fell swoop."
Tried and failed. Badly. The younger officer pointed this out, "-Not that it mattered. From what we can tell so far, the other side didn't take any casualties at all."
Which was odd. The Lucky Hand Triad was a well-armed outfit, and the members who kept track of the syndicate's shipments were usually good, hardened criminals that had earned their stripes. Guarding the money-making contraband wasn't work for fresh, babyfaced grunts.
"Either these guys simply got ripped apart by the group that jumped them..." Commissioner Gordon observed, "...Or there is no group, and we're dealing with one perpetrator behind this."
Either or was bad. But one person being behind this led to the thought of another souped-up crook with no regard for human life populating Gotham City.
The younger officer felt the fear of an individual who had never faced one of the infamous rogues that claimed Gotham as a stomping ground, "One person? Oh, no."
"Keep your cool, son," Commissioner Gordon advised, walking up to one of the bodies to look it over, "We're not in the thick of it yet, but this is what we're here to deal with," He ignored the blood pooled around the corpse and stooped down to take a closer look.
On the chest of the criminal, there rested a marking, carved into the flesh and muscle. A circle with an 'R' in the center.
XxX
(South Gotham City – Tricomber Island)
Max didn't think he'd anything that had been told to him at school would stick. Instead of paying attention in any classes, he had busied himself memorizing a list of excuses and a story behind how and why he moved out of his parents' old apartment to his new home.
When he made it back to his new abode, he marched upstairs to the room that Rose had appropriated for herself. He stood there and watched her sleep for a second before kicking the bed frame to wake her up.
From where she rested facedown, Rose shot up on her hands and looked around in alarm before seeing Max and relaxing back down with a flop, "What's the matter with you?" She mumbled, face in her pillow, "Can this wait? I'm going out tonight. I need the rest."
The thief wasn't about to let her have it that easily, "You moved me two blocks away from Commissioner fucking Gordon's house," He blurted out.
That managed to get Rose's attention enough for her to roll over on her side to face Max, "What? Did you see him or something?"
No, but he might as well have, given what he'd been told, "I saw his niece. The one I go to school with. Barbara."
Rose went through her mental Rolodex of names and faces before remembering the right one, "Oh, your little school girlfriend," She commented, laughing to herself as she rolled over to try and go back to sleep.
Max rolled his eyes at her response what he felt was a serious situation, "This isn't funny."
Rose let out an annoyed moan, wishing the boy would either climb in and join her, or leave her alone, "It's nothing to be scared of. You don't leave the house or come back as Null unless it's an emergency, genius."
"You leave the house as Ravager all the time!" Max pointed out accurately.
Unable to debunk this information as fact, Rose turned over onto her other side, away from Max, "...Not all the time."
But she did it. And her being seen one time now, here of all places would screw Max over, "Start changing at the hideout," He told her.
Not tired enough to avoid the cue to start a fight, Rose turned back around and sat up on her ankles, prepared to tangle if she felt the need, "Are you giving me an order?"
"Yes," Max said, entirely unafraid, seeing as how Rose was unarmed. His eyes roamed and took in her full form, "And you not wearing pants underneath those covers isn't gonna make me back down, woman."
Rose noticed him staring and brazenly raised the stakes, "What if I'm not wearing underwear either?"
Max stood back, arms crossed, "Well, seeing as how you're wearing one of my shirts that looks huge on you, it covers everything. So how would I know if that's true or not?" He reasoned, baiting her further, 'Why the fuck did I say that?'
The answer to that was easy. Because he wanted to see.
Rose raised an eyebrow and reached underneath where the shirt's bottom sat by her knees. Knowing that she had Max's full attention, she smirked and slowly pulled the garment up, revealing more of her bare body as it came off.
She had some scars. This wasn't news to her. There was no way she could do what she did, trained by who had trained her, and live through it entirely unscathed. But they didn't bother Max. She figured as much when they first started fooling around. If her eye didn't bother him, there wasn't any other mark or blemish on her body that would have.
And it didn't. It absolutely didn't. He never said anything corny like, 'I think it gives you character,' because that would have gotten him punched in the face. But it was clear he didn't think anything of it.
Rose used the shirt she had been wearing to sleep to loop around Max's neck, pulling him nose-to-nose with her, "You feeling lucky, Sparks?" She asked under her breath.
Max had been wearing a shirt with buttons. With the use of nothing more than one of Rose's fingers, it quickly had no buttons, "Don't you have to rest for tonight?"
Rose shrugged her shoulders, busying herself with trying to relieve Max of his pants, "Eh, I'm sure the three minutes this'll last won't take that much out of my sleeping time."
That crack got her a static shock for her trouble that sent her back down onto the bed with a yelp, "Vicious bitch," Max said, with no heat behind it.
"Mm-hmm," Rose moaned with a smile, stretching herself out. The show she gave Max in doing so was completely intentional, "You're getting good at that shock stimulation thing."
Max lifted his index and middle fingers letting a faint bolt of electricity pass between them, "You should thank yourself. I got all of my practice for it with you."
Lemon Start
Rose snaked her toes underneath Max's belt and brought her foot back to gently pull him onto the bed and on top of her. Max grinned and moved in to start kissing her, only to find himself flipped onto his back with a shift of Rose's hips, "Hey. What the hell?"
"Nope. Not that easy, asshole," Max was about to curse Rose out for cruelly blue-balling him before she muffled him both figuratively and literally by crawling up to sit on his face, "You've got to work for it."
Max could barely see and had to maneuver himself to breathe with the girl resting herself on the lower part of his skull, "Mruh? Mrully?"
A shiver went down Rose's spine as despite his barely intelligible complaining, he had indeed 'gotten to work', "Yes, really," Her hands grabbed a handful of hair when Max started cursing her out from underneath her, his tongue working out every colorful syllable inside of her, "Fuck. I don't know what you're doing down there, but keep it up."
Max hummed and rested his hands on Rose's hips and busied himself with saying countless unsavory things about the girl he was tasting that she would have bloodied his nose for had she been able to understand it. Before long, he abandoned that, and simply started to savor her taste.
Every so often, when she got too content with his ministrations, he put an itty-bitty spark of electricity into his fingertips and gave her a jolt. Max wasn't sure if that sort of thing would work with every girl, but it certainly did with Rose.
There were hitches to Rose's breathing as she held tight to Max's brown hair. She didn't tug at it though. There was no need to punish him for doing something right. Again, it was another thing he had plenty of practice with by doing it with her.
Through trial and error, at times involving scathing verbal rebukes from Rose, Max was a quick enough study to pick up on the key to going down on a girl; find her clit, tend to it, and await further instructions.
Rose was content to ride things out in near silence, softly moaning every so often, body undulating forward and back as she tried to help guide Max's tongue where she wanted it to go, "Right there. That's it. I'm gonna fucking drown you, Sparks."
The tip of Max's tongue brushed her clit and electricity flowed through her, owing nothing to Max's unique application of his powers. This time, it was all her body's own natural reaction.
She made good on a threat that she had meant to be empty. Not that she drowned Max with her orgasm, but Rose knew the lower half of his face was soaked. It was his own fault, not that he had a problem with it.
Max been a good outlet for Rose's more aggressive tendencies, and she knew he appreciated her acting out in such a way. The bulge she felt in his pants when she reached back was proof of that. She supposed she would take care of it since he was doing such a good job.
Without fanfare, Rose rolled off of Max's face, getting an annoyed look from him in return. It lasted all of fifteen seconds before he realized that she was on her back, beckoning him to go further. He jumped up and nearly tripped trying to get his pants and boxers off.
"Jesus Christ," Rose rolled her eye and waved her hand to shoo him off, "Alright. Go get a condom. Hurry up," At that, Max paused in the middle of removing his pants, "What are you waiting for? Time's a'wasting, Sparks. I'm ready to go."
"I don't have any of those," He said, feeling defensive when Rose's mouth fell open in shock, "I never thought I would get this far! You said this wasn't a love thing!"
Rose wanted to hit him. She wanted to hit him so hard. He was smarter than this, "What's love got to do with anything? You're boy-toy status. You knew this! What did you think that would mean eventually?"
Not actual sex, apparently. And now that it was here... "Do you want to stop?" It almost hurt him to say that, no matter how responsible it was.
Rose took a moment to think about it. She was turned on. The fifteen to thirty minutes it would take Max to get back, she would have cooled back down and perhaps had second thoughts. The moment would have been over with.
"No. Let's do this," Before Max could finish positioning himself, Rose pushed her knees together to cut him off with one last stern warning, "You cum in me, I will beat the fuck out of you and send your ass to the drug store. Matter of fact, I should send you there afterwards anyway when we're done to buy some damn condoms."
Max smacked Rose on the side of her legs before slowly spreading them apart, "Quit talking about old stuff."
He didn't know quite what he was doing, seeing as how this was the first time, but hesitance was a precursor to failure, and having Rose laugh at him for being bad at sex was not his idea of a good time. But that wasn't what he saw when he looked at her.
She was open, vulnerable. These words were not associated with the woman known as Rose Wilson, and yet there she was, waiting on him.
It was overwhelming at first. Max started slow in the beginning. Rose looked down at where the two of them were connected with a fascination. Max made her feel every inch of him as he slid in and out. Her eye went wide with every sensation of being filled.
She had seen Max fully erect, having caused it and taken care of it by hand more than once. Not too bad, but not exactly porn-sized. However, she had overestimated just what kind of size it would take to satisfy her. The teen boy's cock was just the ticket. Better than her fingers, better than a toy, even better than a tongue. And then, things began to pick up.
At heart, Max was selfish, and so once the awkwardness of figuring out what he was doing went away, he performed accordingly.
Rose didn't know what she had expected. Once Max found his rhythm, he was merciless. Not that this was a bad thing. It was what she needed, she just thought he'd be nicer and she'd have to force him to be a jerk. Not so much.
Wonderful pulses from her sweet spot shook her entire body, each one growing more and more intense. She wanted more. As much as she could get. She reached, pawed up, tried to pull Max down on top of her, wanted to wrap her legs around him to get him deeper inside. But with the way he was positioned, she had no control. She received what he deigned to give her. He was in control. Looking up into his eyes, she came a hair shy of asking, begging him for more.
It was there that she saw it. There wasn't a mindless instinct to rut. To get his, because it felt good and for no other reason. Max knew exactly what he was doing to her – knew that he was in full control.
He almost had her, recognized when she realized it, and still didn't backpedal.
Rose was so warm, and she fit around his dick perfectly, like she had been waiting just for him. In his head, she was. With every thrust, Max felt like it would be his last, and he wanted to let her know just what this was, so there was no mistake between the two of them, "I'm taking this from you! Do you understand me?" He hissed at her, leaning down to kiss at the crook of her neck, jawline, and earlobe. Rose moaned in response, emboldening him to speak directly into her ear, "This! Is! Mine! You! Are! Mine!"
Each word was punctuated with a sharp push that made Rose's muscles go weak. Then, on a delay, his words actually registered in her pleasure-addled brain.
"Fuck you! Think you're somebody, huh?" In a heartbeat, Rose hooked Max's arm, put a palm in his face and flipped them both over, putting her back on top of him, "This is happening because I say so. I'm using you, not the other way around."
Even while she berated him, they never stopped. Rose rode him like she was breaking a bronco.
Her nails scratched into his chest. There was aggression and assertiveness in the way Rose moved herself up and down on his cock. Her silver hair was wild, obscuring much of her face and the single solid blue eye that glared at Max in challenge.
There was no delicate way to put what the two of them were doing. Any semblance of love-making had been dashed, if it had ever existed to begin with. Rose and Max were fucking one another, and it was a battle of who would do so to whom.
"Not so tough now, are you Sparks?" Rose cackled breathily. She felt weightless, almost delirious, "Show me what you can do! Show me what you can do!" She repeated again and again.
Rose wanted him to fight. Not that she was going to give up and let him believe that they were equals in the bedroom. He was a decent person. Considerably more so than she had been accustomed to dealing with before they had met. But there was also a mean streak, a nasty, vindictive side to Max, buried somewhere inside of him. She had seen it, and she liked what she saw when it came out. Both sides, the yin and yang of him, were attractive to her.
She wanted to control them both. There was a magnetic relationship between the two of them. They were stuck together and didn't want to be apart. If that was the case, she wanted to be the one on top. And her body was a tool – the perfect tool – to make sure she was.
He was like a dog on its back, panting with its tongue nearly hanging out. He was a stupid boy. Give him some pussy, and he would heel at her feet. It wasn't like it was a chore for her to do it. The soft, stiff rod rubbing against her inner walls was worth its weight in gold. Not that she would ever let Max know that.
Rose hovered over him, sneering as she pinned his arms to the bed with her hands. The slapping sound of skin-on-skin filled the bedroom "Aww... did the wittle baby wose all his fight? It's okay," She sarcastically consoled him, running her tongue over his lips, "You lay right there 'til I'm finished, you cocky little shit," She ordered, taking a deep, sloppy kiss from him.
A spark of defiant fury rose in Max. Taking the luscious girl on top of him into his arms, he sat up, leaving Rose in his lap, still grinding and bouncing to get herself off. She tried to force him down, but had no leverage, even with her enhanced strength.
Max stood from the bed, hands gripping Rose's supple backside tightly and walked her over to the wall. He stopped and sharply jerked forward, slamming Rose against the surface. A small noise from her mouth registered the impact. Max raised her up against the wall and buried his face into her bare breasts, growling as he pounded up into the girl, trapped in her fixed position.
Her insides being pummeled by cock, Rose had no counter. Max held her fast. Her only options were to wrap her legs around him, or keep them open, "Fuck!" She gasped out, hands pulling her lover's head tighter to her chest, "Max! You fucking-!"
"-Say my name again," Max interrupted demandingly as he did his level best to split Rose apart, right down the middle, "Not Sparky. Not asshole. You say my name. Say my real name."
Rose had never said his name. Not once since he'd known her. He wanted to hear it again. Rose could scream any filthy curse to the heavens that she wanted. She could tell him to fuck her in any way either of them could imagine. But right then, at that very moment, there was no single syllable in the English language that would have turned him on more.
And she gave it to him.
"Max."
It came out like a whisper on the wind. It was just his name, but she might as well have said, 'I quit'.
Max swung Rose away from the wall and deposited the two of them back onto the bed. She hardly struggled as he put her right where he wanted her. With a primal fury, a flame that Rose had stoked, Max ravaged the sweet honeypot of the girl known as Ravager, "You want to see what I can do, do you? How do you fucking like that, huh? You wanted me to work for it? I told you, I'm fucking taking it!"
Yes he was, and there was nothing she could do. Her legs were pinned in place, one underneath Max, the other up over his shoulder. Struggle as she might, fighting against all of the delicious feelings stirring up her sex, the most significant movement she could muster was the curling of her toes.
Rose Wilson was a defeated woman on this occasion. Max reached down and caressed her face, his eyes staring directly into hers. They were intense, but comforting, telling her that it was okay. There would be another chance. They would 'fight' again, and maybe she would win. But not today. Not this time.
Rose leaned her head to the side and sucked on Max's thumb to hold back her pathetic whimpers, all in vain. Her hair obscured the desperate expression on her face as she felt absolutely powerless underneath the man she had sought sexual dominion over.
He had won this round. There wasn't enough fight left in her to turn the tables before she reached her limit. She knew it, and when she finally let go, the floodgates opened.
Rose's body shuddered as the elusive feeling of ecstasy accompanied her powerful climax. She gasped unintelligibly, and struggled powerlessly as Max continued to fuck her despite the fact that she herself was finished.
Feeling Rose tighten up almost drove Max clear over the edge, but he stayed the course. He didn't stop pumping into her until he was certain he couldn't hold back anymore. He finally pulled out and shot his warm seed on Rose's stomach.
It had been so hard to keep from blowing his load inside of her, but remembering the very first threat Rose had issued to him before she'd let him inside of her, he respected the request behind it. If she would have also had a problem with him coming on her, she wasn't in the state of mind to complain about it.
Rose suddenly felt empty. Empty, but fulfilled. Satisfied. Content. She reached down to her tummy where she felt Max's jizz splash on to her and brushed it off onto her hand, moving it up to look at it. She shrugged at the sight of it and wiped it away on the side of her thigh. Why not? With the sweat the two of them had worked up already mixed on her body, what was one more bodily fluid to clean off later?
End Lemon
Looking over her own breasts, Rose saw Max slumped on his knees, catching his breath after their session. She shifted a leg and poked him with her toes to get his attention, "...Hey," She whispered with a lazy grin.
Max let out a laugh through his nose, "Hey," He replied. He had no idea what else there was to say?
Rose shook her head and opened her arms, beckoning him to move back over to her, "Come here."
He did as she asked and the two of them moved around with Max lying on his back and Rose right next to him, bodies connected, legs intertwined. Both boy and girl relaxed in the afterglow, wrapped in a makeshift cocoon of the comforter on the bed.
Sighing to himself, Max gave Rose a kiss on the forehead. She reciprocated with a pinch to his nipple, "You're such a fucking loser..." She yawned, feeling very tired, "Weren't you bitching about something earlier?"
"Keep your Ravager stuff away from the house," Max droned, shutting his eyes. He'd had plans to do homework and maybe check out Commissioner Gordon's house, but to hell with that now. He wanted a nap, "...Not getting busted because of that."
"Yeah... yeah. Whatever," Rose said, brushing off his concerns. Even so, she would heed them for now, "Change at the hideout. Got it. No merc shit in the house. Copy."
"Mmm," Max hummed.
"Hmm," As both drifted off, Rose presented one last thought to herself, 'I seriously can't ever let daddy know I let Sparks fuck. There wouldn't be enough left of him to bury.'
XxX
(Undisclosed Location – Gotham City)
The mission to cause a widespread break at Arkham Asylum was only days away, and Slade Wilson was doing his homework, as he did before all of his assignments. Still, this wasn't for him. It was his daughter's mission. He was just coming along to make sure she saw it out properly.
He had little doubt that she would though. After all, she had deposited the $4 million he had demanded she make right at his feet. He hadn't said it at the time, but he had been impressed. He had dumped her off, and she had chosen to go to perhaps the toughest place in the country to do what she had and survive.
That took guts, and talent. She was perfect for what he wanted her for, and she was ready.
A young man entered Slade's office. He stood large and broad, the same size as Slade with brown hair in a crew cut. He wore armor similar in appearance to Deathstroke's, but instead of black and orange, his was black with silver chain mail-like accents, "I thought we weren't supposed to be here long. I'm ready to get out of here and get into some real action."
Slade barely payed the young man's complaints any mind, "Ravager still has one more mission to complete before she's properly freed up. Then she can leave," He explained, looking up only to give the other person in the room a sharp eye, "We finish our contracts."
Taking the hint, the young man chose to stop giving out about being stuck in a hideout. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to stop taking issue with everything, "I'm still pissed about her taking my name, Deathstroke. We'll be having words about that when we meet."
Deathstroke chuckled. He had a feeling if anyone told Rose she couldn't be Ravager anymore and tried to enforce it, it would be the last thing they tried, "You aren't getting that name off of her. It's been a long time since you went by that. If you want to blame anyone, blame your uncle. He stole it first."
"Tch. A guy can't even die and keep his own name. Whatever. I'll deal with that later," The young man said, "You sure she's good enough to let her come onboard?"
"I trained her," Deathstroke explained, as though it explained everything. In a way, it did, "And unlike you, she hasn't been dead for several years, Grant. So she isn't rusty."
The young man, identified as Grant, let the flimsy insult slide, instead grinning widely at a thought, "I can't believe I've got a little sister. I can't wait to meet her."
"Don't worry. In due time, all of my children will be together," Slade said.
All of the pieces were almost in place, and even when it had all been coming together, Rose had a place in helping to ensure it all happened.
This information hadn't been provided to Rose. There wasn't any need for her to know. She had her own business to attend to immediately afterwards.
There had been one more payment that Deathstroke had wanted in exchange for procuring Kryptonite and the specs for the transmitter. Something more than money. Something he needed from Lex Luthor that very few could give him – a body, cloned from the preserved tissue of someone very important to him, his second son Joseph Wilson.
Deathstroke had managed to get his son Grant back from the dead. And before he would know it, his second child Joseph would have a body just like the one he had lost for his spirit to inhabit. With Rose returning to him, soon the Wilson Family would be all but complete.