All right. Lets get one thing straight.
I've never read the Watchmen comics.
Yes I know, I'm that stupid noob that saw the movie once, loved it, and decided to write a fic. Does that make you angry? Tough.
I do not own Watchmen or any of the affiliated characters and actors. I'd like to own Matthew Goode though. That would make me happy.
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"Rorschach you fool," he grumbled, tossing the agitating newspaper onto his mahogany desk. The masked idiot kept a journal. Who knew? Grumbling in frustration, he ran a hand through his silver-blond hair. Forty four years of his life were spent making his name; surviving in this crazy world. Twenty of those years was occupied by Ozymandias, trying to save the world. Had one simple journal ruined that?
He got to his feet, roughly snatching the paper and thumbing through the pages. Nothing in the journal incriminated him- so far. Was he willing to take a chance and let the entirety of the journal be published?
Not a chance.
Donning his costume, he held his eye mask in his hands. Thanks to the Keene Act, he was unable to place it on his face. Not that it mattered. Ozymandias had gone public, revealing himself as Adrian Veidt. The mask wasn't needed.
It had taken no time at all to travel from his Manhattan tower to the downtown paper. It had taken less time for him to jimmy the lock and slip inside silently.
He froze, hearing an oh-so-slight feminine gasp. His gaze swept the room and caught a flash of red hair as it disappeared behind a wall. Someone had gotten here first.
With a growl of frustration he took off after her, using his speed to catch her rather quickly. Grasping her arms he pulled her flush against his chest, causing her to drop what she was holding.
Quickly she turned in his hold, pushing against him. He stumbled slightly, but it was enough time for her to turn, scoop up what she had dropped, and run down the hallway. That instant he regained his balance and ran after her. The thing she dropped must have been the journal. But what did she want with it?
Grumbling to himself he sped towards the Editor's office; the only place this hallway led to. Standing in the doorway he looked around. She was nowhere to be found.
A quick assessment of the office told him she hadn't slipped through the window- it was closed. She hadn't left through the door- he was standing there. She was still in the room.
Crossing the room in three quick strides he reached under the desk, grabbing her arm and pulling her from under it. Without hesitation he slammed her into the wall, making her cry out and drop the journal, which he caught with one hand.
"What do you want with this?" she sneered, holding up the journal so she could see. Her vibrant red hair hung in her face, keeping him from getting a good look. When he didn't get a reply he pulled her forward, only to slam her again. "Answer me!"
She said nothing. Instead she lifted a knee, pressing it against his chest and pushing him away. As he tumbled to the ground she leapt on him, grabbing the journal and rolling, slipping it inside her sweatshirt before gracefully rising to her feet. As she passed him to rush out he grabbed her ankle, causing her to crumble to the floor. Quickly he draped his lengthy body over hers, pinning her down.
"Once again, why do you need this?" he asked, reaching into her sweatshirt and pulling out the journal. Once it was in his hands, he looked up and gasped.
Behind that curtain of red hair was an ivory skinned face. Her eyes were such a powerful green they nearly gave off their own light. Her lips were full, a ruby red that made him lick his own unconsciously.
"I want it for the same reason you do. To get rid of evidence," she said in a high soprano, smooth like silk that sent shivers down his spine.
"Pardon?"
She bucked her hips against his and rolled, straddling his waist. "He wrote about my mother. Now give it back!"
He repeated her action, bucking his hips and rolling.
"He wrote about me! I can't let you have it."
She gave a growl of frustration, bucking once more and rolling, pinning his hands above his head.
"I will not have you reading what he said about my mother. Give. It. Back."
Adrian blinked, surprised by the passion in her voice. But he couldn't have this yound thing reading what Rorschach said about him.
"I can't!" he said, propping himself up on his elbows.
She glared at him, grabbing the journal and rushing out of the room.
Swearing under his breath he got to his feet and ran after her. Once again he grabbed her arm, throwing her against the wall.
"I will not have a child ruin everything!" he growled, snatching the journal back. He glared at her, daring her to fight back.
She dared because the next thing he knew stars danced in his eyes, and the journal was gone. Reaching a hand to his nose, he felt a trickle of blood. The little bitch punched him.
He whirled around in time to see her red hair dissapear around the corner. Quickly he reached out, grabbing a handful of the surprisingly soft hair and pulled backwards. She gave a shout of surprise before tumbling back, her head striking the desk.
Her body went limp, the journal falling from her hands. Adrian heaved a sigh before grabbing the journal, hiding it in his cape before bending down and picking her up. She was lightweight. It would be no problem carrying her back to the tower.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
When Alixa MacKinney opened her eyes she was swallowed in darkness. Not surprising, since she hit her head in the dead of night. But she was lying on a cloud of comfort, her body melting into the down mattress that engulfed her. Why was she lying on an extravagantly comfortable bed?
Alixa sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, and stood. The room she was in was dark, save for the blue glow that shone from under the door across the room. Silently she crept to the door, pressing her ear against it.
"I'm not a kidnapper," she heard the British tenor from the paper- Ozymandias. "I couldn't just leave her there."
"You are the man who killed thousands of people. What's one more?" a dreamy voice that echoed responded.
"She has such a fire. Like when I was young. So determined."
"And Rorschach's journal? Is that why you called me here?"
"Rorschach wrote that it was your power that killed them. You could be tried just as well as I."
Alixa felt her heart thrum in her chest, so loudly it was a wonder the two men couldn't hear it. Killers? She was just a room away from killers?
"And the girl? You said she fought you for it."
Ozymandias fell silent. For a moment there was no sound. At least, not a sound Alixa could hear.
"She is Rorschach's daughter."
Of course Alixa knew this. Her mother made sure to never let her forget that she had a hero for a father. It struck her as a surprise that the Watchmen were unaware. No wonder they weren't pounding on her door trying to recruit her.
Hesitantly she opened the door, slowly stepping out and closing it behind her. Pressing her back against the door she raised a hand to shield her eyes from the light the second man emitted. Dr. Manhattan smiled robotically at her, and she returned the gesture with a smile equally as weak.
"Oh, my dear, you're awake," the slender blond known as Adrian Veidt called out. Alixa couldn't hold back an incredulous snort.
"My dear? Just hours ago you were fighting me for a dead vigilante's journal. So don't bother pulling the nice act," she sneered, stomping up to the handsome blond. "Are you going to keep me here forever or can I go home?"
Adrian's face stiffened. Had the girl really thought he was keeping her? Had he become that much of a despicable soul?
"You're free to leave. I do have one question however," he answered, looking down at her with a quirked eyebrow. "What is your name?"
"Nyx," she answered, using her future vigilante name. With a curt nod she spun on her heel and walked to the door.
"It's a shame you're leaving," he called after her. "The Watchmen could use someone as determined as you."
She stopped, her body turning rigid as she slowly turned to face him.
"The Watchmen are over," she seethed. "Keene Act forced you all to retire. Why bother recruiting?"
Jon held up a hand, keeping Adrian from responding. The glowing being turned to her. Alixa felt her heartbeat accelerate just having his gaze on her face.
"Keene Act outlaws masks. And murder is murder," Jon said mechanically. Adrian nodded, finishing Jon's thought.
"As long as we apprehend, and leave it at that, without masks, the Watchmen are free to return."
Alixa let out a laugh, shaking her head. "Find yourself a prostitute, Veidt. You can feel fulfilled that way."
Without waiting for a response Alixa turned on her heel once again, pulling the door open before she stomped out.
She found the elevator, punching the button and stepping inside, once the doors opened.
The nerve of them both. Yeah, there were loopholes in the Keene Act. But did that mean she was going to leap at their offer? Definitely not.
A sudden jolt zipped through her body. Adrian still had the journal. And if he knew she was Rorschach's daughter, then he must have read it. Every last page.
Before the elevator doors could close she reached a hand out and pried them open, stomping back to the door and harshly throwing it open.
"I want the journal," she growled, storming up to Adrian, noticing vaguely that Jon respectively took a step back. "Now."
Adrian looked down at her, an amused expression lighting up his features.
"I've already read it," he said, hands on his hips. "What's the point of taking it?"
Alixa refused to back away, though her body was painfully aware of the mere millimeters between them. For a man twice her age, he was ridiculously attractive. But she refused to let his sandalwood and lemongrass scent cloud her mind, even if it was already misting over her senses.
"Because I know you'll be sharing it with Nite Owl and Silk Spektre II," she snapped back, craning her neck to glare into his silver-blue eyes. "And you really have no right holding onto it. Not after what it says."
"How do you know she is Rorschach's daughter?" the distant Jon asked, interrupting their argument. "She didn't give her name until after you told me she was."
Alixa turned to face Jon for the first time, eyebrow raised. She prided herself in being a logical person. Why hadn't she thought of that?
Adrian let out a sigh of annoyance. "The journal mentions only one woman. And the things he wrote about her could put a romance novel to shame. He wrote that he loved her and Nyx said it was-"
He was interrupted by Alixa's fist once again finding his face. As he reeled backwards she pounced on him, pounding on his chest.
"You bastard! I told you! And you still read it!" she screamed as her hands connected with precise hits.
Suddenly Alixa was in the air, her fists finding nothing. Looking around in confusion she saw Jon with a hand out, obviously levitating her away from his friend. Gently she was let out, and she turned to Adrian with her worst glare yet.
"You are a despicable human being. Give me the journal. Now."
Adrian lithely got to his feet, blowing his blond bangs out of his eyes. "Who knew such a tiny thing could be so volatile?" he jested, his silver-blue eyes sparkling with mirth. He went to his mahogany desk, pulling open a drawer and pulling out the journal. He walked over, handing it to her, but not releasing it.
"Let go," she growled through grit teeth. He chuckled and did precisely that, causing her to stumble back a few steps.
"Jerk," she mumbled under her breath as she stormed out the door.