"Blame It On the Perfume"

Warning: This fic contains Peter/Vince. (That's right; it departs from canon like anything other than Vince/Dana.) If you don't like it, turn back now.

Disclaimer: I do not own "The Cape," "Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman," or the formula for Revenge.

It's All A Blur

"Mr. Fleming, I'm glad that ARK is interested in investing in my work," Miranda smiled.

After spending seventeen years in prison, she had finally been released. Seventeen years of her life, wasted. What had she done to deserve that? She hadn't killed anyone. Well, if Superman hadn't shown up in time, she would have, but still… If she had a nickel for everyone that had tried to kill Lois Lane, she wouldn't need investors.

Two months ago, she had moved to Palm City and opened up a perfume store. Last week, out of the blue, she received a phone call from someone at ARK Corporation. Peter Fleming was interested in her research. Would she mind giving him a tour of her current facilities? The last billionaire who had funded her research had been Lex Luthor. Oh, Lex. She had been in love with him, though he didn't feel the same way. She'd asked him to wait for her…

But he was dead now and had been for years. It was too late for her to get revenge on the bastard.

Perhaps it wasn't too late to start over.

"Call me Peter. The pleasure is mine, Miranda. Tell me, what did you create for Lex Luthor?"

"Mr. Fle-I mean, Peter-that product sent me to prison for the better part of two decades. Surely you don't think I would risk my newfound freedom?"

"I've done my homework, Miranda. You went to prison for trying to dip Ms. Lane in a vat of acid and for sabotaging a scheduled fruit fly spraying. Besides which, I can assure you that we are very discreet at ARK."

"You just have a small problem with your more unsavory activities being reported by Orwell. I've done my homework, too, Peter."

Peter's expression darkened.

"You let me worry about Orwell. She's not your concern. Now, let's get down to business."

"I'll be her concern when I splash whatever they're up to all over my blog." Orwell's voice came over The Cape's headset. The hero was hidden in a corner of the laboratory where Miranda mixed her perfumes. His partner was monitoring everything from the bugs he'd installed in the room.

"Quiet! I don't want to miss what they're saying," Vince whispered back.

"Did you just tell me to be quiet?"

"As it happens, I do have some of the 2% solution on hand," Miranda conceded. She walked towards a locked cabinet and pulled a key out of a pocket.

"The 2% solution of what?" Peter asked.

"Revenge, of course," she smirked as she unlocked the cabinet.

"Miranda, do get to the point. You know I'm not going to write you any checks for a perfume formula."

"This formula you'll be interested in, Peter. It's basically a diluted solution of pheromones."

"Pheromones? I know my specialty wasn't in chemical engineering, but wouldn't that mean-"

"Passions running wild? One spray of this will overcome all of the victim's inhibitions."

"For how long?"

"About 48 hours."

"How do I know it works?"

"I told you-Revenge got me into a lot of trouble. Superman wasn't too happy about my plan to spray it over all of Metropolis."

"And Lex Luthor didn't come to your defense?"

"Let's not talk about Lex. One isn't supposed to speak ill of the dead."

"Nonsense. People are still vilifying Chess."

"Who said Chess was dead?" The Cape swooped in, seemingly out of nowhere. "Hello, Peter."

"Miranda, I apologize for the interruption. You see, The Cape has taken an avid interest in my affairs. He takes pleasure in disrupting my life."

"You've got a lot of nerve. How many lives have you destroyed?"

"Mr. Cape," Miranda interjected, "I don't know how long you've been here, but let me assure you that I am a legitimate businesswoman-"

"Oh, shut up!" Vince snapped. He might not have understood what the hell the formula was for, but the gist was clear enough: Fleming was up to no good. Nothing new there.

"See here. You cannot seriously think that you can barge in here and interrupt while I am conducting business on behalf of ARK Corporation-"

"I see; you're here on ARK's behalf. Did you mention biochemical weapons in the company mission statement?"

"You've never worked in Public Relations, have you, Cape?"

Vince couldn't take the arrogant smirk on Fleming's face anymore. He socked the billionaire right on the jaw. Then, when Fleming staggered back, he threw him into the cabinet against the wall-the cabinet that Miranda had left open and unlocked. Perfume bottles smashed open, spilling their contents onto the billionaire. He spluttered as some of the liquid got into his mouth.

"You idiot!" Miranda shrieked. "Look what you've done!" At least none of the Revenge had gotten on her. Still, a good portion of her supply was ruined and she could probably forget about landing a contract with ARK. Fleming was getting to his feet. He was coughing and had obviously swallowed some of it. Oh, this couldn't be good. Miranda ran for the exit. To her relief, The Cape didn't try to stop her and she got away. Vince wasn't so fortunate.

"Do you have any idea what you've just done?" Peter asked. His heart was pounding.

Vince shrugged.

"Let me guess, I poisoned you? Don't see what the big deal is, you've poisoned me-"

Fleming, who was seeing red by this point, grabbed one of the perfume bottles that had not smashed and sprayed The Cape right in the face. Vince waived a gloved hand in front of his face and wrinkled his nose at the smell.

"Ugh, what the hell is that stuff?" His eyes locked with Fleming's; then they drifted down to the bastard's lips.

(Two days later)

Vince opened his eyes a fraction. He felt groggy. What the hell happened? The last thing he remembered, he was in a laboratory, fighting Fleming… When did he make it back to the hideout? Actually, this didn't feel like the bed in his hideout. He shifted. Oh, god! What was wrong with his behind?

"I see you're awake, Faraday."

Vince's eyes snapped open and he sat up. Peter Fleming was standing a few feet away from the bed, wearing a bathrobe. Vince was in Fleming's bed and he wasn't wearing the cape or his mask or… Shit! Was he wearing anything? Oh, no. No, no, no. His secret identity was blown and he was in a vulnerable position with the man that made his life a living hell.

"What the hell happened?" Vince demanded.

"I could show you the security footage, but I suspect you'd lose the contents of your stomach," Peter drawled. He did not want Faraday's vomit all over his penthouse.

"What are you talking about?"

"Thanks to your 'brilliant heroics,' we were both drugged with a substance that can cause even the most sophisticated man to behave worse than a hormonal teenager."

"I'm really not in the mood for gibberish," Vince said. Where the hell was his costume?

"Fine, I'll get straight to the point, Cape. During the drug-induced state, which was entirely your fault, we shagged."

Vince blinked. It took a moment for him to try to figure out the British term. When he did, he understood why Fleming expected him to puke. He raised a hand to his mouth, just in case. If Chess was serious then…

What do you know? Fleming is literally a pain in the ass.

Author's Note: I blame this on Fleming.

Am going to point out that since they were equally drugged, Fleming did not take advantage of Vince.

Alright, you can tell me it's atrocious. Just don't complain about the pairing because you were duly warned up front. (Yes, I know you can't find a bigger departure from canon. Well, maybe you could, but why would you want to?)

So, should I stick to writing Vince/Dana? Delete this fic and pretend it never happened?