[[I'm sorry for the lack of updates recently... Anyhow, please enjoy this Hanna(h)/Bloom oneshot suggested by SamCyberCat.
Spoilers: For Bloom's bonus episode in Azran Legacy.
Set: After said- bonus episode.]]
Incognito
With his knowledge of Britain's underworld, Bloom could easily pinpoint criminals: from bumbling burglars to infamous thieves, thick thugs to mass murderers, drug dealers to addict overlords, sex offenders, identify frauds, maniacal mechanists ... He had seen them all. He himself was guilty of three said-offences. However, even he was surprised to learn that there was a place (besides prison) where these wrongdoers would congregate in secret.
"Villain-Con," Hannah stated.
"You have got to be joking."
"Unfortunately, no," she tossed him a flier she must have taken from the crook they arrested earlier that day. Bloom read the information with a frown. It sounded like a corny comic book plot. Have every criminal gather in one place just for the police to find them all at once.
Hannah's plan exactly.
"Have you even thought this through?" Bloom checked. "It could be risky..."
Hannah huffed, "Give me more credit than that! We're not just going to waltz straight in there. Before Grosky's men can come in, you and I will scope out the convention incognito style."
'Incognito' meant going in disguise, much to Hannah's delight and Bloom's disdain. Bloom was forced to smooth back his hair, don dark robes and carry a cane. Likewise, Hannah wore a long blonde wig, a black dress and plastered her face with white powder.
They arrived at the location on the flier— a rundown theatre in London Docklands— arm in arm. (Hannah insisted it would appear more convincing.) A gorilla of a man was guarding the entrance. Bloom flipped him the flier and he stood back with a bow. "Welcome, Mr and Mrs Malroy."
"Remember, our arrangement is strictly professional," Bloom muttered as he and Hannah passed under a red banner proclaiming, "WELCOME TO VILLAIN-CON!"
"Whatever you say, my dear husband."
The happy couple entered a large hall clustered with stalls and exhibits promoting weapons, doomsday devices and other dastardly products. (Nothing screamed 'I'm evil!' like an 'I'm evil!' T-shirt.) These were the most conspicuous quote unquote villains Bloom had ever encountered. If his and Hannahs' disguises seemed suspicious, the other attendees' costumes were downright obvious.
Freddy Kruger, the Joker and Maleficent were handing out autographs left, right and centre. Darth Vader and his Stormtroopers had taken up street dancing. The Terminator had his own photo booth...
The last straw was when a wild-haired woman stormed up to Hannah, claiming to be her sister, Trixie Bellazarre. Bloom dragged Hannah away and hissed, "We should never have come here."
"I think you're right," his partner admitted. "None of these people appear to be real criminals, though they certainly are eccentric." She sighed, "I'll let Grosky know. He's going to be so disappointed in me..."
"The sooner we leave, the better— hey!" The detective grunted as someone grabbed his arm, hauling him away from Hannah.
"Eeeeeeek! Lucien Malroy! Give the Dark Lord's followers a speech!"
Bloom was shoved up on a stage. He scowled at the audience of witches and wizards with snake tattoos on their arms. "I don't have time for this—!"
"What are the Master's plans to defeat Barry Trotter?"
"Must we ally with those stinking Werewolves and those sparkling Vampires?"
"Will you marry me, Mr Malroy? Leave that wench you call a wife and we shall be the strongest couple in the Magical World!"
Bloom ran a hand through his hair. "There's been a mistake. I am not Lucien Malroy— he's a fictional character. I don't wish to associate myself with your deranged... cult, anyway."
Some guy in a skull mask gasped. "D-did he just reject the Death Eaters?"
Another roared, "He and his family have always been traitors!"
"LET'S GET HIM!"
Waving homemade wands and reciting curses, the wannabe magic users charged at Bloom. Bloom had a few seconds to leap offstage. He had no idea whether these people were serious about killing him, but he wasn't sticking around to find out. Would they also target his wife... colleague, Hannah?
Speak of the dainty devil— he saw her being chased by the shrieking Bellazarre lady.
"THOUGHT YOU COULD FOOL ME, IMPOSTER? YOU ARE NO SISTER OF MINE!"
Hannah whipped off her wig and threw it in Bellazarre's face. She started running to Bloom's side, but hightailed the other way upon noticing his own pursuers. She dived behind a stall selling 'Real Weapons!' Bloom followed. Thankfully, the mob thundered right past them.
Bloom panted, "Call Grosky, this instant." (Never had he dreamt those words would come out of his mouth.)
"Already on it—"
"Hey, customers aren't allowed back here!" said a moustached salesman with pointy black hair.
Bloom and Hannah glanced at each other. "We're not customers," Bloom drawled.
Clearly, this was the wrong thing to say.
The salesman growled, kicked the pair out of his stall and shouted, "Are these the sneaks you're looking for?"
As one, the hunting party turned. Yanking Hannah off the floor, Bloom tore out of the theatre hall, out of the entrance, until Grosky's police car came into view. The door was wide open to receive them. Bloom jumped into the back seat; Hannah landed on top of him.
"Drive, Grosky, drive!" They yelled together.
The inspector slammed his foot on the accelerator. As they sped away, Hannah sighed, leaning her head against Bloom's chest. Bloom cleared his throat. "You can drop the act now."
Hannah hummed. "Why would I do that, my dear?"
"Because Grosky..." Bloom was about to answer, but then he shrugged. Honestly, he had never felt more content to be in the back of a police car.
[[Why do my fics with these two always involve rabid fans and cosplayers?]]