Note: New fandom. New characters. New ship. I tried?
"Victory to Justice."
"Come in, Victory." Despite having a good guess at what his partner was about to say, Justice took a few more steps. The passage was draped in shadows and something sticky caked the floor. He wasn't about to look down for an inspection.
"There's too much interference. Communications are patchy."
Justice bit back harsh words and his eye twitched in frustration. "Pull back." He glanced down at his wrist meter. "The ether is fluctuating anyway."
"Roger that."
The purple blip on his meter pulsed then faded. Victory wasn't wrong. Something in the environment was interfering with their communications and readings but Justice didn't believe for a second the ether was gone. His target was sneaky and clever.
Justice spun around and nearly lost his balance when his boots stuck to the floor. The squelching, sticky sound turned his stomach. What a pointless day. He sighed in resignation and made his way back through the maze of passages to the waiting ship.
"Hey, boss," Victory drawled from the ramp. His eyes fell to Justice's dirty boots and, instead of speaking, he sneered in disgust.
"Don't call me boss," Justice muttered, stalking past him. The soles of his boots still stuck a little but at this point, it felt like a loss to take the time to clean them. It would be an admission of defeat.
"Anything you say."
Justice scowled and his partner grinned. He let it go for now. Victory followed him through the belly of the ship and to the bridge. The pair of captain's chairs weren't comfortable in the slightest but Justice felt better when he took his place at the helm. All the panels and projections came to life and synced with his suit. Data began to scroll over the screens but Justice ignored the feed. He didn't need to know the chemical makeup of the slime on his boots or that his stress levels spiked whenever Victory's voice crackled into his ears and called him boss.
He ignored all that and focused on plotting a course home. Victory and Creed chattered behind him but Justice tuned them out. He'd come back empty-handed. Again. Her face flit across one of his panels and there was something both intriguing and insufferable about her grin. The long list of her known locations, crimes, and affiliates flickered beneath the image.
A whispering voice in his head quietly wondered when the chase had become so personal. All of the questions he didn't like swung back and forth like a spider spinning a web.
"Shut the fuck up," he murmured.
"What's that, boss?" Victory's question rattled in his head, destroying the spider's web.
"I said, shut up," Justice, said louder. "Can we just get some peace in here for once?"
"Whatever you say, boss."
"Don't fucking call me that."
Justice kept his eyes trained on navigation even though it wasn't necessary. The concentration helped him not reach over and clock Victory in his stupid, flat face.
He peeled his uniform off piece by piece all the way down to the black, ballistic nylon body armor beneath. When everything had been crammed into the laundry chute, Justice pressed his thumb against the glowing purple button that would close the chute and deliver the dirty garments to… somewhere else. He didn't know. The suit would be waiting for him, cleaned and smelling nicer than slime when he needed it next.
His apartment was stark despite no longer being standard military issue. He'd ranked out of those hovels the year before and now enjoyed an officer's suite. The indulgences he allowed himself were all carefully chosen. Justice preferred high pile carpets and soft cushions on his furniture. He liked his expensive soaps and high thread count sheets. These things made him feel in control while the rest of his life seemed to be in a constant spiral.
His hair was still damp from a shower when he fell backward into his unmade bed. A disgruntled warbling was followed by an indignant swish of fluffy tail.
"Sorry, Lily," Justice muttered as she leaped from the bed to the floor. Her white fur stood out even in the low lighting.
"She doesn't like being left alone all day," a voice whispered in his ear.
Justice didn't even startle. Of course. He rolled his head to the side and found her grinning. On impulse, he caught a strand of her hair between his fingers. She smelled of oleander and honeysuckle. Something sweet, something poison.
"I went looking for you today," he said in a low rasp.
"Oh?" Elsie's laugh was playful. "And what did you find?"
"Something sticky and gross."
"That's a shame. It pains me to see you fail so miserably, so often. That's got to be rough on your ego."
Despite himself, Justice smiled. Something about her always left him a little drunk. "It's bold of you to assume you have any impact on my ego."
Elsie's fingers carded through his hair and tugged lightly. "Come here. I'm tired of waiting."
Justice rolled over and left his towel behind before crawling the length of the bed. His hips fit between her thighs as if they'd been there a thousand times before. Her eyes fell to his lips.
"How did you mask your ether?" Justice whispered, hovering over her mouth.
"A lady has to keep some secrets." Elsie's hands slid over his chest and shoulders.
"How did you get in here without being caught?"
"Kiss me," she demanded in a breath.
Justice obeyed and wondered how her body could possibly be so plush. She was a pirate. A villain! And yet she was softer, more inviting, and out priced anything else in his apartment. Elsie cost him a great deal both privately and professionally, but he'd empty his pockets every single time he got her alone.
Her hair glowed against the deep purple of his sheets. The skin of her breasts tasted divine. And the press of her crossed ankles against the small of his back suspended him in a wickedly sweet stasis. His lips found her neck and he left the kind of mark she would never be free to leave on him. None of Elsie's marks could be seen when he was in uniform.
"Say my name," he whispered in her ear. Elsie's breaths were short and her fingernails dug into his shoulder.
"No."
Justice smiled. His hand slid down to her thigh and she didn't fight him when he lifted her leg higher. The angle was her favorite. Her teeth bit into her bottom lip and he touched the spot with his tongue.
"Say it." He didn't wait for her to refuse and, instead, took up a brutal pace. Elsie's thighs quivered and he felt the subtle clench low in his belly. "Say my name."
She gasped when he released her thigh and slipped his hand between their bodies and worked her with his fingers. At his own breathless expense, he attempted to pull his hand away but Elsie's grip on his wrist was strong.
"Justice, don't you dare!" Her voice wasn't much more than a frantic exhale but she'd capitulated. Elsie whispered his name over and over against his shoulder and he cherished each and every one.
He collapsed into the bed beside her and thought even the sheets smelled of whatever intoxicating perfume she used. Something sweet, something poison. Justice rolled over to his back and found her still beside him on her stomach.
"I win," he said with a sloppy grin.
"You think so?" Elsie purred. Her hand slid across the rumpled sheets and over his chest. She rose above him and left a kiss on his lips. "Maybe I let you win."
The room tilted. Justice reached up to touch the falling strands of crimson. The last thing he remembered hearing was her soft laughter.
Justice blinked. The blob of white on his chest slowly focused into something he recognized. Lily glared down at him and flipped her tail haughtily.
"Hey…" His throat felt like sandpaper. "What is it, girl?"
Lily bounded across the bed and perched on the very corner. Justice sat up and the sheets gathered at his waist. Everything still reeked of oleander and honeysuckle. He reached for the glass of water on his side table and took several gulps.
"Lights," he commanded in his best voice. "Medium." Even this level of light was too much. His head was full of something sticky.
Justice swung his legs over the side of his bed and stared at the glass. An imprint of his bottom lip had been left behind. The realization came slow and clunky. His fingers pressed against his mouth. The residue of Elsie's lip balm was slight but still clung. He fell back into the sheets and what had seduced him the night before, now aggravated.
Elsie might've said his name and handed him the battle, but he was still losing the war.