That Drink Was Spiked
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, MAC or general makeup.
A/N: Italics are flash backs.
He had been pulling and tugging for hours now, rubbing his wrists raw (mentally, at least). He couldn't believe she'd done this, and how horrible—oh, how absolutely pride-ruining—would it be if someone found him before he managed to get off? And he wasn't just worried about being half-naked in pants and loafers, but his face.
He would never come back from that, the thousands of years old vampire he was. How respected he was with the Volturi and its various vampire associations. That would all be down the drain the moment anyone saw him. He had to get out, and he had to get out now.
Except there was that one, small, itty-bitty detail that was actually quite big. The chains. God knows where she'd gotten them, or where she'd gotten the drugged blood. Which was actually quite good, and if it hadn't gotten him into this situation, he'd try it again. But anyway, there was the very big problem at hand. Vampire-proof chains, tightened around his wrists, his ankles, holding him down against the holding chamber wall. He tugged once more, prayed that this final, valiant attempt would work, but soon gave up. You couldn't beat Jane once she got started, that was for sure.
He'd been sitting here, knitting quite happily, thinking about the different relationships and what they really meant, as he had done for thousands of years now. She'd walked in, almost dancing, and he would have found that strange if he hadn't heard from Felix—that poor, damaged vampire—about Jane's fondness of dancing. The cup was placed down in front of him, and a scent of beautiful, tempting blood wafted upwards. He would have questioned her excited expression, but the blood was so very tantilising. It'd been a while since they'd hunted, and last time they'd only saved him 2 humans, which he had still not quite forgiven Aro for. And anyway, what could go wrong? It was only a glass of blood. He reached for it, gulped it down, and continued on with the scarf/jumper/hat hybrid he was battling with. He couldn't quite put together the next few minutes, but next thing he knew he was tightly chained against the holding room wall, with Jane standing on a step ladder and brushing something on his eyelids.
"Hold still, stupid. Both you and Felix are awful at holding still. Is that a male thing or something? Well at least you're finally awake! I thought I'd given you a little too much there for a second….But there's more important things that wondering about the past. So, what do you say; blue or green?"
"Jane…."
"Yes, you're right, green will make you look like a Christmas tree. Blue it is. Eyes closed."
For some reason, he'd closed his eyes again, either because Jane was not someone you messed with, under any circumstances, or that the drug she'd given him was still affecting him a bit.
"Ahhh, there you go. I know you'd look wonderful. You should really let me do you up more often. Of course, we're not even nearly finished yet. I thought we could try some foundation, smooth out that papery complexion a wee bit. Then some blush, give you a little light. Maybe some lipgloss too, I've got some gorgeous MAC somewhere….."
That's when he realized that she was holding a rather large blue bag, over spilling with different tubes and pots and sticks of various shades and brands. He wished she was there, but she wasn't. But he couldn't concerntrate on that now, he needed to get out of here quickly. Before Jane managed to get any of those torture lotions on him. God knows what this foundation thing is, but it doesn't sound pretty.
He started tugging, moving, trying to get himself off the wall, whether he took off the wall himself or not. He didn't care if Jane noticed—she might see his discomfort, his horror and let him go. Alas, that did not happen.
"Stop it! First Fifi, now you! Why can't anyone just let me play with them? I just want some fun, and no one will just let me do that. What? Why are you looking at me like that? Okay, if you can't behave, I'll make you behave."
Then he found some piercing, writhing pain deep inside himself. He shook and strained and then, wondrously, something smooth and delicious slipped into his mouth. Too late, he realized this was the concoction, the poison she'd slipped him earlier. But before he had time to reflect on that panic-inducing thought, he was out.
He'd woken up a few hours ago, his lips tasting strange and something powdery covering his face. If he looked as bad as he felt, or rather, his skin felt, then he was in trouble. He kept tugging, twisting, prying his body every which way and trying desperately to get out of the bonds that held him.
Suddenly, between the clattering of his chains and the huffing of his breath from hours of exertion, even though vampires really didn't exert, he heard the footsteps. Clattering down the stairs, men's footsteps. Soon, far too soon for Marcus' liking, the big, broad body of Felix turned the corner. Upon seeing Marcus, a wide grin spread across his face, accompanied by a chuckle as he walked towards the chained vampire.
"So, she got her hands on you too? Seems you had the worst end of it though, Jane learnt from me not to take on a vampire, basically empty handed, 5 feet taller than she is. Oh, but that make up looks so gorgeous on you…"
"Felix, if you don't get me out of here, I will come up with some painful punishment for you. Possibly involving Jane and these chains." He was getting desperate now, as Felix pulled out a nail file-a nail file, for God's sake-and acted like this was some perfectly normal conversation between Volturi members.
"Hmmm, such a proposition. Maybe I should leave you there, bring the humans down here to see you, take pictures in their last minutes. You'd be a great statue, if you stop wriggling. Might even make it to the Lourve. Who knows." Then Marcus started growling, horrible, blood-curdling growls that would have killed a human where they stood. Felix just smirked and made his way towards him.
"Okay, okay. No need to get your knickers in a knot. Here we go…" And he was free, running up the stairs and towards his room. God knows how he was going to get the makeup remover, but he would whether he had to hold down Jane or not. Whipping past mirrors, his skin actually did look quite un-papery—but that wasn't the point. The point was he was covered in makeup, after hours of fighting unbreakable chains and on the war-path towards Jane. This would not go unpunished, it wouldn't. Well, it wouldn't once he becomes a respectable vampire again. And swore Felix to oaths of secrecy.