Author's Note- A random one-shot for Victor Creed and Birdy! I love this couple especially because of Creed'sGalBirdy whose stories are amazing for this couple! So definitely go check out their stories if you like Victor and Birdy! I may add more one-shots if I come up with them, but no promises!
The title is based off this quote-
"Tiger got to hunt, bird got to fly;
Man got to sit and wonder 'why, why, why?'
Tiger got to sleep, bird got to land;
Man got to tell himself he understand."
― Kurt Vonnegut, Cat's Cradle
They were in some ritzy hotel hosting an event. Ritzy... and also gorgeous. Everything was trimmed in gold, the room was enormous. The chandelier itself was bigger than the room she grew up in. Even the furniture looked more like art than something to sit on. They sadly weren't here for the scenery though. Some important guy was going to have a really bad night later...
For now they had to blend in and sit back. Observe. Or stalk, if you used her Boss' selection of words.
Birdy preferred not to.
She'd been excited about this, actually. Usually it was gory and depressing being dragged on his jobs. But this time! He threw some extra cash at her and told her to get him a suit and herself a nice dress.
Well, safe to say Birdy took advantage of that 'order' and got decked to the nine's. A nice dress indeed. A full length red gown, fit her snugly, and the gems adorning the low cut back sealed the deal when she'd tried it on. The little black shawl was sheer and matched her favorite handbag. If there was one thing she loved, it was any opportunity to get dressed up. She did a decent job on Victor too.
He looked very respectable. She even got him to wear a red shirt under his suit jacket that complimented her dress! Not that he cared very much the way he shrugged at it. Birdy wouldn't expect him to though. That didn't mean he didn't look nice to her. Even from across the room, sitting back at a table that was the furthest from the space with various couples dancing. He never was a fan of crowds, she'd guess it was that sensitive hearing of his. Or it just bored him. One or the other. She'd even sitting with him until a moment ago, when she excuses herself for some punch and he waved her off.
The appeal of the evening didn't last long though. They got here and Victor occupied a seat immediately, waiting out the job. It didn't take long for Birdy to grow bored of drawing tic tac toe boards on her napkin's wrapper (a fancy place if the napkin had a napkin) and forcing one word answers from him with pointless chatter.
It wasn't any different than usual on jobs... Birdy shouldn't really be disappointed. Just the idea of a fancy ball benefit and whatnot, her imagination ran away with her. It usually did, that was the start of most of her troubles.
This gaggle of gossip airheads weren't helping her mood.
'George told me all about that colleague of his, it's hardly a surprise.'
'As if she doesn't know what she is to a man like that. Who knows what brought her here.'
'How embarrassing for her.'
Birdy wanted to be angry at the whispers. She wasn't trying to pick up on their thoughts. But when they were thinking about you and you happened to be a telepath that tended to happen.
She tried to block them out, they were just stuck up snobs with their shallow, high class viewpoints on the world. Her boss' reputation extended to the hire class as much as any of the dives he might enter. He didn't try to hide what he was either, even in a place like this.
The rational reasons didn't stop Birdy's shoulders from dropping a bit, the confidence she'd been radiating dressed to the nines wavered a bit. It wasn't in herself, it was the stupid vision she'd built up in her head when Victor told her to buy a fancy dress for a ball he was forced into.
Or maybe her false ideas about there being anything that wasn't strictly, deal with Victor's demons and blood-lust when he couldn't handle it anymore, handle all his paperwork and banking slips, or go buy groceries or be forced to eat what Victor Creed thought was edible.
Plus those woman's thoughts were just too laced with venom. Birdy gave her drink a sour look, too bad it was actually just punch. She could use a little something harder to get through the rest of the night...
xXx
He'd pushed up out of his seat on instinct. He was more than ready to go over to the gaggle of uppity losers sipping their champagne and teach them a lesson for sneering at what belonged to him.
Victor wasn't a fool, it didn't even take heightened senses to see their dismissive looks and sneers at Birdy.
Victor Creed wasn't having nobody treat Birdy like that but him!
Even if this idea to teach them right was not something he was known for, and certainly not something he'd ever do for someone else. Or for himself for that matter, it wasn't part of what he was. He definitely wasn't doing it for some broad.
It wasn't about the frail, not to do with her having gotten all dressed up for this shindig. It definitely wasn't about the pout pressed on her plush lips, or the way she kept avoiding everyone's looks.
Nah, not about Birdy. It was about his reputation. Yeah. Birdy was here with him, and that reflected on him. Might as well be aimed at him. Victor Creed was superior at any damn thing. These little pee-ons couldn't match him. No one got away with disrespecting him.
But, Victor did recognize; somewhere in his sliver of rational thoughts, that gutting the guests wouldn't let him get close to the guy that would meet his end later tonight. So he'd have to prove it the regular, less fun, way.
So instead he slipped up behind Birdy and clasped a gloved hand around her wrist. He had to resettle his grip not to break her girly jewelry.
He smirked sharply as Birdy jumped out of her skin.
"Jesus Christ Boss!" Birdy gasped all breathy. He could hear her heart hammering away, so he knew he's actually gotten her. He wasn't surprised.
"Scare ya, did I?" Victor grinned nastily down at the blonde. That was his thing after all. But the scent of fear didn't wash over her. Too bad... she was no fun, took too much to rile her up these days.
Instead of letting her have time to answer with something smartass he promptly dragged Birdy away from the crap smelling punch table. Away from the broads whose eyebrows had raised and were 'whispering' bullshit.
"Er, not that I'm asking, but... we need to stay til that guy shows up right?"
Victor rolled his eyes at his assistant.
"Shut up, frail, I don' need no reminders on my job," Victor said, a bit of a growl in his voice. Just 'cause nobody was gonna insult her didn't mean she could start questioning him about his work. They weren't leaving anyways.
"In this sort of place?" Birdy scoffed.
Yeah, so it wasn't a place Victor Creed would be caught usually. Dressed up in a suit no less. It had a nice benefit at least, Birdy looked mighty fine in that dress. She smelled of some perfume, though, which he didn't favor to her natural scent. At least he could bare it, unlike most of the other guests. The men included, if you could call then men. One of the hundreds of reasons he couldn't stand places like this.
It didn't matter. He was here for his work, nothing else. Sides, now he wanted to prove it to Birdy as much as he did any other insignificant chump in this place.
No one questioned him. Sometimes Birdy could, on paperwork or something unimportant, but not right now.
xXx
He stopped before he'd dragged them to the door, so her original thought, that the perp left or he decided he was done and they were leaving, was out. She'd been fine leaving, it had interrupted the laughter from those woman. Also their thoughts, applauding themselves on how clever they were.
Bimbo's.
Birdy glanced around as Victor stopped completely, and turned around to face her. What was his plan here exactly?
He grabbed her waist suddenly, pulling her close. Her heart shot into her throat. and scanned the room again. This was a job! He was supposed to be scoping out Mr. High Profile accountant man.
Instead... as a jazzier song started up...
Birdy had to get tugged around for a second by the man, frozen in shock.
Were they... dancing? Honest to God dancing?
Yup. No doubt about it. His feet were moving, and so were hers, and around everyone else joining in to the upbeat song.
"Love was changing the minds of pretenders, while chasing the clouds away..."
Victor Creed... The oh so fearsome Sabertooth (as he liked to remind her often), on his job to take out some Wall Street guy causing a fuss, the original stick in the mud, was dancing... with her! Also dancing at all.
"A we danced in the night... remember..."
Finally Birdy got enough sense in her to start moving herself, following the fast pace he set for them.
"I didn't know you could dance like this," She said flabbergasted. Birdy earned herself a snort from the seven foot feral as he spun her around.
He was really frickin good at dancing, actually. He was giving her a run for her money as she tried to keep up with his tempo. What else was he holding out on her! She'd think since she'd had to deal with some of his deepest, or repress, thoughts and memories she'd know it all. That's what she got for expecting Victor wasn't some in control of what she saw of him.
As Victor swept her around, she distantly heard the surprised scattered thoughts of those woman, but the man in front of her soon consumed her attention entirely.
"There's plenty ya don' know Birdy."
That one almost didn't sound like an insult. She smiled wider at him as he dipped her backwards and pulled her back closer, twisting them around as the chorus of the song picked up.
"Aaahhh... say do you remember... dancing in September, never was a cloudy day..."
"Sides this song is plenty older 'n you." Victor chucked deeply. She could feel the rumble as he pulled her against his chest and spun them around.
"I like the oldies," She shot back. Victor didn't say anything to that, just extended his arm and twirled her out a minute later.
Birdy got lost in the song, following his lead. For a minute... her world seemed so completely normal.
For a minute Victor was just a man and she was just a woman, both dancing closely.
It ended much sooner than she'd have liked. But she laughed as the song finished and he not so slyly smirked at the staring gaggle of girls. Well. Victor sure showed them, so did she. Suddenly they didn't want to be such nosy nellies anymore.
Birdy couldn't help thinking she deserved this from him. Victor took Birdy's arm and lead her slowly back over to the refreshments.
Birdy was still in a haze, but happy for a drink after the dance. When Victor Creed did something, nobody could say he didn't go all the way. Mostly that was a bad, horrible thing. It was nice right now.
"Now," Victor's voice was serious and dark as it ever was, pulling her from her happy haze. Did the guy show up? Victor slipped around her, leaning in closely. "When I'm done havin' my fun with this guy, if ya ain't by that exit I showed ya with the car in exactly forty-five minutes ya better get as good a head start as ya can manage runnin' from me," He growled menacingly for added measure, one pointed fang slipping from behind his lip. Then Victor disappeared behind her off into the hallways that lead deeper into the building.
Birdy sighed after him, taking a slow sip of her punch. She had forty-five minutes to kill apparently.
One day Victor would figure out that she wasn't going to try and escape. Even if she wanted to, he was the best tracker she'd ever met. Gauging the amount of zero's on his paychecks plenty of people thought so too.
Right now? She didn't feel the need in any case. Birdy glanced over at those ladies, smiled brightly and raised her glass at them.
It was a damn good thing Victor didn't understand that it wasn't his claws and death threats that were the real danger to Birdy. It was these rare moments when he showed her the man he could be. That's what was her real trouble lately...
Thanks for Reading!
