Disclaimer: The brilliant Stephenie Meyer is the creator of the Twilight Saga and the phenomenal characters within. I own nothing and mean no disrespect. No copy right infringement is intended.
Thank you to my beta Kelli, Breath-of-Twilight
Special thanks to my friend, MK, for authenticating the legalese within the story.
xxxxXxxxx
Chapter Three: Painted Ladies and Masked Men
The day of the masquerade ball arrived. Wearing an organic bamboo shirt and a comfortable pair of yoga pants, Isabella sat at her bathroom vanity and got ready to face the day. Knowing she would take a shower at the spa, she tied her hair back in a ponytail, applied some Chapstick to her dry lips and took a long hard look at herself in the mirror.
Although it was the same face she stared at every morning, Isabella didn't recognize herself anymore. She'd become so accustomed to the armor that encased her, that she simply didn't know how to exist without it. Isabella thought about how she and Alice had come a long way in the ten months they'd been friends. She thought back to that first day when she bumped into Alice and spilled coffee all over her. She thought about how Alice never gave up on her, even though she wasn't exactly the most receptive person to be friends with.
The fact that they were meeting at Zoka on "Ball Day" caused Isabella to think about how Alice might be right. Maybe there is something called fate. Maybe she was destined to meet Alice that day so she'd have at least one real friend outside of the shark tank that was real life for her.
She thought about how Alice said that fate had given them tickets to the ball and that they were destined to meet their soul mates. Isabella was resolved to the fact that even if it were true, even if her soul mate was out there somewhere, that there would be no way he could break through the iron and steel that protected her from getting hurt.
But for just one night, Isabella would answer the door and let destiny in. And just like Cinderalla, she knew the spell would be broken the moment she left the ball.
Rushing out the door of her loft taking nothing but her wallet and keys, Isabella ran to meet Alice at Zoka. With chai teas in hand, they left the Coffee and Tea House, hailed a cab and headed off to spend a marathon day at the spa.
"This night will change our lives. I feel it, Bella. Tonight we won't even be ourselves. We are going to experience a total transforma…." Alice stopped speaking, and hurriedly rummaged through her hobo bag.
She pulled an envelope out of her purse and exhaled. "I thought I forgot the tickets, but they're here. I am so absent minded today!" Alice wiped her forehead as if there was a bead of sweat she was removing.
"Want to see the tickets? I don't think I showed you the other day. Did I tell you we're VIP? Oh, and FYI, we're VIP at Blix, too!" Alice handed a ticket to Isabella.
///\\\
~Unveil a Cure~
"Gatorade
Maskorade Ball"
to benefit the
University of Washington Medical Center - Harborview Campus Department of Hematology
The Players Club
Seattle, Washington
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Nine O'clock PM
VIP Access
\\\///
The taxi driver stopped the car in the middle of Yale Avenue, right in front of Spa Blix. The women entered through the special VIP door which led into the exclusive VIP section of Blix. Alice chose this particular spa because Blix was one of the few full-service spas in Seattle that offered the treatments that Alice had in mind. As the women were undergoing an array of services, VIP was the only way to go, because the aestheticians, massage therapists and stylists literally brought the services to them.
Make no mistake, this day at the spa wasn't for their enjoyment, although it would certainly be relaxing and wonderful and all those other great feelings, but rather this day at the spa was crucial in their total transformation. Alice told Isabella that they had to prepare their minds and body and that by the time they walked into TPC twelve hours later, that even their mothers wouldn't recognize them.
The women were Blixfoliated, algaed, Basalt Stone Massaged, facial'd, arched, Brazilian waxed, body waxed, manicured, pedicured, buffed and polished.
Alice's favorite stylist gave her a trim, then applied a rinse in shimmery obsidian.
Isabella's hair was "temporarily" tinted and streaked.
Crimson.
With highlights and lowlights.
Her natural mahogany would reappear after ten washings. But Alice didn't mention that tiny little fact. Temporary is such a fluid word.
Seven hours, twelve treatments and one strawberry and banana smoothie later, and they were headed to the theatre. Marcus, the Tony-award-winning makeup artist, was ready and waiting. Using an artists touch, Marcus airbrushed Alice first and then Bella.
Bella read the latest issue of Sports Illustrated while she waited. That damned Agent got an entire two-page spread. She hung on every word.
That's ok. She'd eat him up and spit him out.
Unless, of course, he tasted good.
No, not happening. Not in a million years.
That motherfucker was going down.
Alice provided the perfect canvas as Marcus transformed her into the feline she was at heart. He was the master artist as he lined her eyes, painted her lids, tinted her lips, feathered jet black whiskers, and airbrushed a faux mask that one could only tell was painted-on her skin if they got up close. Real close, as in centimeters away.
Bella had turned as red as a beet.
Alice noticed her BFF's sullen disposition and told her not to worry, they would finish in time and it was now her turn anyway.
Bella huffed herself out of the vinyl recliner and threw down the magazine that was offensive in more ways than one. She broke the spine, causing the magazine to lie wide open displaying a headline that Bella would rather not advertise to her BFF.
Mariner's Back-Office Ball Buster
Isabella "Ice Princess" Swan, Esquire
Shit. Alice wasn't supposed to see that. As in never-ever.
Alice's eyes flew open and immediately focused on that title and a few other choice words which seemed to practically jump off the page. "'Ice Princess'? 'Icey-Bella'? That's okay. I bet ya that Sports Illustrated will be there tonight. You can just spill a drink on 'em tonight or something. They'll never know it's you."
"Funny, Alice," Bella mumbled, as she picked up the obviously rag-mag tabloid and threw it unceremoniously in the trash can. Who knew the editors of Sports Illustrated decided to dwell in the shadows of the National Enquirer?
Bella continued walking over toward Marcus and laid down on his soft vinyl, custom-designed artists table, that was shaped like an hourglass. Bella drew in some deliberate, cleansing breaths. She closed her eyes and shut herself off from the world.
This was going to be a long process. Bella knew what Alice had in mind and what that would entail. She would become totally unrecognizable, and the only way to do that was with some serious body paint.
Bella was transformed from head to toe into the villainess that existed deep within her core, she had become Poison Ivy.
Marcus airbrushed a delicate mask of masterfully placed and multi-hued green and brown vines and ivy. The ivy formed a mask as it intricately framed her eyes, shadowed her lids, and then continued in a twisted vine down the right side of her neck. Leaves and vines twisted and gnarled over her carotid artery, across her clavicle bone and gently cascaded down until ivy gracefully cupped her creamy soft breasts.
The vine traversed across her heart, and displayed detail of a single ivy leaf, nearly wilted, with its edges turned in among itself, as if it were crying for even a drop of water.
As if she were wearing a thong, Marcus painted vines and ivy that barely covered her 'V' in the front.
Isabella had fallen asleep as he painted and Marcus gently woke her from her slumber. Two hours had already passed by, and she'd have to stand for the rest of what he had planned.
The vine twisted around both sides of her hips, formed a knot as it 'tied' in the back, then ventured down , covering the 'I' on her backside.
The gnarled vines and poisonous leaves-of-three spiraled down her right thigh, across her knee, down her shin and finally, whispered around her delicate ankle, ending with a perfect ivy leaf angled upon the top of her tiny foot.
Her left leg remained free of any intrusion of the deadly vine.
Marcus stood back to admire his masterpiece. He took her arm and walked with her to a full-length mirror. She gasped.
Isabella stood naked in front of the mirror. If she didn't know better, she would swear she was wearing a costume.
And not paint.
Alice, who was already wearing her Cat Suit, looked at Bella and smiled in appreciation. She expected nothing less from Marcus. This was her design, after all.
Alice's assistant appeared out of nowhere with Bella's dress, shoes and accessories.
Bella cocked an eyebrow in surprise at the taupe-colored, sheer lace, barely-there mini-dress.
"You didn't expect me to ask you to go out in just your birthday suit, did you, Bella? Here, let me help you with this."
Bella stepped into her dress and then into a pair of brand new iridescent green Pelle Moda five inch heels.
"One more thing, you'll need to put these in. You used to wear contacts, right?" Alice handed Isabella a pair to put in along with a spare of green tinted contact lenses.
Alice really had thought of everything.
Isabella blinked her eyes into the green contacts and stood in front of the three-way mirror and exhaled.
She had become Poison Ivy.
In the flesh.
She was artfully disguised and not a soul would have an earthly idea who in the world this woman was.
She looked over and offered her sincere thanks to her best friend, of whom Michelle Pfeifer couldn't hold a candle as the quintessential Catwoman. Alice's cat suit was black lace, except for her felt ears and leather tail that could double as a whip any day of the week. Her black patent leather stilettos tied around her ankles.
Ali handed Bella a coordinating satin and lace clutch that matched Alice's black one. Both clutches were small enough to hold in one hand, yet large enough to hold their tickets, house keys, taxi money, lip gloss and the makeup repair kit that Marcus's assistant compiled in a miniature compact.
It was nine o'clock on the dot. They were right on time to be fashionably late. The two women stood arm-in-arm and chanced one last glance in front of the mirror. They thanked everyone, especially Marcus for creating living, breathing works of art.
They smiled, because tonight they donned masks of anonymity. They could both be free, let go and just enjoy life and everything it had to offer.
This was especially true for Bella, because the mask that she hid behind everyday had been ripped off like a Band-Aid. But, like all deep and embedded scars, the pretenses would reappear in the morning. Her airbrushed mask would wash away in the shower and her façade would once again take its place.
But tonight Isabella and Alice were free. As they braved the damp Seattle air and hailed a cab, they became Poison Ivy and Catwoman.
Prior to exiting the cab, Ivy and Cat re-pledged their pinkie promise.
No trace. No names. No numbers. No exceptions.
No matter what.
Tonight they would live it up and never look back. With only the doorman taking their tickets, no one would ever be the wiser. Talk about letting go? These ladies wrote the book.
Prior to exiting the cab, the women reached under their lace mini dresses and removed the sealed glass vials that were strapped to the tops of their thighs. They each opened their vials and took two long and hard swallows of Absinthe. They capped the vials, tied them securely to their thighs and entered the Club with the confidence offered by the little green fairy.
Ivy and Cat headed straight for the dance floor. Instantly, every eye was upon them.
"Holy fuck, who are they?" Jasper asked Edward. He wasn't usually one to swear, but this situation seemed to warrant the obscenity. Both of their eyes darted around the dance floor in a desperate attempt to keep these sexy sirens in their line of sight.
All of the men sitting at this VIP table exchanged shrugs, and Jasper waved for a bouncer to ask around to see if anyone knew who these villainesses were. With their borderline illegal outfits and their seductive dance moves, they were turning every head, dancing with everyone and no one in particular, leaving piles of dust in their wake.
Jasper and Edward watched as the temptresses rebuffed every feeble advance attempted by hapless masked men who hadn't a hope in the world with these Goddesses.
As was the plan, Edward was Batman. He wore a soft white t-shirt with a silk-screened Batman logo on the front. He had gone to Studio 904, gotten a facial and had his hair cut and styled. His stylist applied a "raven" tinted gel to make his hair appear black. It would wash out with just one shower, so his trademark bronze locks weren't jeopardized in the least. Edward wore black jeans and black boots.
As for his mask, Edward wore a solid black demi-mask in which the top of the mask echoed the wings of a bat.
Jasper was the Penguin and he wore a burgundy tuxedo and a matching top hat. His coordinating demi-mask had slits above the nose into which Jasper could attach a long orange beak.
Edward and Jasper waited for the women to approach their table.
Certainly Poison Ivy and Catwoman wouldn't resist their Gotham friend and foe. Batman and Penguin would be the perfect temptation to tame these two.
As if following the men's script, Ivy and Cat passed directly by Edward and Jasper's table. Edward instinctively leaned out toward Poison Ivy, gently feathering a touch along her arm as she passed by. Penguin caught Catwoman's glance and refused to release his Kitten from his gaze.
The ladies offered nothing but a gleam and a smile as they ducked into the powder room, where the women indeed powdered their noses, reapplied lipstick and spritzed fresh sprays of perfume.
They relished the breather within the luxury of two lounge chairs in the ladies sitting room. They spoke in hushed tones and admitted they were having a blast at the Ball. If nothing else, the free comedy garnered from greasy men with nineties dance moves made them smile. The girls agreed that the geeks were probably as good as it was going to get. In that case, they'd give it a few more dances and call it a night.
The ladies knew each other all too well, however. So they spit in the face of the Jinx and discussed the mysterious magnetic pull to the Superhero and Villain sitting just outside. Cat said she'd never felt such a magnetic pull to her Prey. Ivy agreed that when she passed by Batman's table, she accidentally brushed her arm against his and she could swear she felt some sort of electric shock.
The ladies then discussed Plan B.
If by some miracle, Plan B, as in "best case scenario" happens and they ended up in some Batcave or Igloo within the Club, the BFF's agreed to go for the gold.
They hooked their fifth fingers and swore again to the Pinkie Promise. Except this time they agreed they'd better add a two a.m. curfew into the mix to quell any temptation to taking this into tomorrow.
If they got separated, they would simply take a cab home and text the other and give a status update. They'd either share a cab ride now, or they'd rendezvous in the morning. For better or worse, they had set their stage.
Upon exiting the powder room, Cat and Ivy were forced to cover their ears as they were assaulted by the squeal of speakers.
'Attention Ladies and Gentlemen. We want to thank everyone for coming tonight. We appreciate your generosity, and through your support, we've been able to raise nearly ten million dollars for hematology research at Harborview. Thousands of children and adults suffer from blood-related illnesses, and without the donations from patrons like you, these patients would suffer needlessly.
But, we still need your help. We are two hundred and fifty-thousand dollars short of our goal and we need you to dig deeply as we auction off priceless sports memorabilia in the silent auction, plus, of course, the moment you've been waiting for, our exclusive 'Drink and a Dance' auction!
We still need a few more ladies to volunteer. Come on ladies, certainly you'll share a drink and a dance for charity? Ladies? Ladies?"
Suddenly, an overhead spotlight circled throughout the room and landed upon Ivy and Cat. Applause roared among the crowd and with relinquished smiles, the two friends were ushered onstage.
The Drink and Dance auction was indeed the highlight of the evening; for the men that is.
Twenty women had been auctioned off as Cat and Ivy were awaiting their turn. So far, one hundred fifty thousand dollars was raised in the D & D auction. The highest bid was for twenty-five thousand. The crowd clapped in appreciative applause after every woman was "won".
Next up was Catwoman. She ascended the stage and twirled around for good measure.
"And, what's your name?" Auctioneer asked her.
She paused, remembering the shared promises of no names and no trace.
"Cat." Alice purred softly.
The entire room roared with laughter.
"No, really. Not your costume, but your name. At least your first name, come on?" Auctioneer goaded her and the crowd cheered on.
"Oh, ok. But just my first name. I'm…I'm…Selina." She said as she winked over at her friend and confidant.
"All right then, Selina. Here we go. Can I hear a thousand? A thousand for a drink and dance with the lovely Selina?"
The bids rapidly grew from a thousand to two, then four, five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five and thirty.
"Going once. Going twice…." Auctioneer raised his gavel.
"Fifty-thousan' dalluhs!" Called Penguin.
"Going once, twice, SOLD!" The auctioneer clamored his hammer against the podium.
Bird walked immediately to the stage and escorted his Kitty Cat away. He didn't want to waste a single minute without her under his wing.
"Next up is the beautiful but deadly Poison Ivy." The auctioneer reached down with his rough, dry hand and took Ivy's small one and guided her up on the stage.
He covered the mike and asked for her real name.
"You can call me Pam," Ivy said with a smile.
She offered a confident wink and a demure curtsy to the crowd. The audience erupted in thunderous applause. She was a vision of contradiction. Confident, yet shy. Deadly, yet angelic.
"Thank you, Miss Pam! All right, gentlemen, last up on the auction block for a drink and a dance is the lovely, mysterious and dare I say, deadly Poison Ivy. When she's not fighting superheroes, she answers to the name of Pam."
"We'll start the bidding at twenty-five thousand dollars. Do I hear…?" But the auctioneer was cut off by frantic bids coming from every corner of the Club.
Athletes from every sport and their agents too, were caught up in a feeding frenzy for the Iced Princess disguised as Poison Ivy.
"Twenty five, thirty. Yes? Thirty-five, forty? Okay."
"Forty-five. Fifty. I see fifty!"
Oh, if they only knew. Fire or Ice. Plant or Mineral. No matter how you defined her, Isabella was deadly.
"Ah, fifty thousand dollars!" Auctioneer smiled at Bruce Wayne, and raised his gavel.
"Going once...," and then Auctioneer was cut off.
"Seventy-five!" Came a bid from a newcomer.
"That'll quiet the fucker down," Thought the man with the Jester mask and blonde ponytail. He was one of the greasers that Ivy had refused to dance with, let alone maintain eye contact.
She held her breath as her eyes opened wide. This isn't good. Not good at all. She chanced a glance in the direction of Bruce Wayne, otherwise knows at Batman..
Their eyes locked in searing passion.
"Seventy-five? All right. Seventy five it is. Going once. Going twice…?" The auctioneer paused for effect. Surely this couldn't be it?
Ivy and Auctioneer were both panicked. Neither reached their goal.
He began to lower his gavel.
In a split second, Bruce raised his paddle and with an air of confident calmness called out, "One hundred fifty thousand dollars."
Audible gasps were heard throughout the club. Jester sneered first in Ivy's direction, then he attempted to burn a laser beam right through Batman's vision.
The auctioneer couldn't believe his ears. "One hundred fifty thousand dollars? Did I hear you correctly?"
Bruce Wayne nodded and never took his eyes off of Ivy.
"Going once. Going twice…SOLD! Auctioned to the Winged One for One hundred fifty thousand dollars!
"Thank you so, so much. We've surpassed our goal tonight. Through the silent and celebrity auctions, and with the generosity of those who are off sharing a drink and dance at this very moment, on behalf of Harborview, Gatorade, and The Players Club, I thank you! We've raised over ten million dollars for hematology research. Thank you so much!" The auctioneer wrapped up the evening.
The Band resumed their play.
Bruce maintained eye contact with Ivy and swiftly approached the stage, thwarting any efforts from Jester to ruin his moment. He'd paid an ungodly amount of his hard-earned money for just one drink and one dance. Maybe if he was charming enough, he could ask her for more. He wasn't about to hand her over to the bottom feeder who tried to outbid him.
No one ever, ever won a bidding war opposite The Agent. But he wouldn't take a chance with a sore loser. He'd get her out there. And fast.
Edward held out his large hands and put them on either side of her waist. He swirled her off the stage and into his arms. The electricity was most definitely there. They narrowed their eyes at the confusion of such a feeling, then embraced the continuous rumblings of the current between their two bodies.
He kissed her on the hand. The static shock electrocuted his top lip. "I believe you owe me a drink. And a dance. Care to join me in the Bat Cave below?" He whispered his best Batman impression."
Isabella nodded, but couldn't believe her ears. He placed his strong hand in the small of her back and maneuvered her through a paneled boardroom, down the spiral stairs, and into the wine cellar below.
The Bat Cave by any other name.
She and Alice had spoken of this very possibility just an hour prior. Was it an hour already? This was most surely Option B.
As in best case scenario.
Then she started to panic just a wee little bit. How far would she let this go? Electricity. Emerald eyes. Hands that certainly have made their way around a body before.
"Okay, just calm down," She thought to herself. It's just a drink and a dance.
"I'll pick out something special." Edward spoke in a low tone, then walked around the corner searching for an illusive and perfect bottle of wine.
Bella suddenly heard music echoing throughout the cellar. Nice.
Alone. Music. With an obscenely sexy stranger. Her nerves were getting the better of the usually confident Iced Princess.
Bella needed some liquid courage. She reached underneath her dress and pulled out her vial of Absinthe. Intending to deplete the contents, she placed the vial to her lips just as Edward was rounding the corner.
He saw the tell-tale liquid glowing green in the vial. He closed the distance and tore the potion away from her lips.
The glass vial and its contents crashed onto the stone floor.
"Are you okay? You aren't cut are you? What in the hell are you doing? That shit's poisonous!" His voice was a mixture of dominance, panic, urgency and anger.
He felt protective of the woman, yet at the same time, he wanted to protect his investment.
Strangely, she cherished the thought of a man protecting her. Taking care of her. Dominating her. Bringing her to the point of passion that she'd never reached in her life.
Bella's voice hitched. She was careful not to raise her voice. She must remember the promise.
Leave no trace.
Edward uncorked the bottle of 1998 Caymus cabernet. "Shall we let it breathe for a few moments?"
Bella nodded.
"So your name's Pam? Hi, Pam, my name is…," He was interrupted.
"I don't think that's a good idea. Can't we just be Ivy and Bruce?" She asked in a hushed tone.
She was a woman out for his own heart. No names. No strings attached.
But strangely, she was someone he thought he might actually want to know. For some reason, he felt the need to connect with this poisonous siren who had so successfully tugged at his heart.
"Okay then, Ivy. I believe the deal included a dance?" He cocked his eyebrow at her in a hopeful manner. His whisper was nearly drowned out by the music above.
She was embarrassed. Icey Bella Swan herself was flushed with apprehension. "I. Um. I don't dance," she managed to choke out.
Edward's Batman voice was working overtime. "But I watched you on the dance floor. You're quite excellent. Intoxicating to watch, actually. Are you standing me up on our dance, Miss Ivy?"
Bella continued her whisper, "I mean I don't slow dance. I might just step on your toes, Mr. Wayne."
Edward stepped confidently in front of Bella. He took her tiny hands in his, pulled her close to him and locked his eyes with hers. "Look at me. Right in the eyes, Ivy. It's all in the leading, and I promise I won't lead you astray."
Clair de Lune began to play through the dampened speakers in the Batcave.
It was her absolute favorite song. Ever.
"Is this okay? Do you like it?" He asked her, referring to the music. His low voice was full of hope.
She shook her head. "It feels wonderful. You're quite good, really," Bella said, seeking to pull even closer into his warm, safe, strong arms.
He chuckled but didn't reveal that he wasn't referring to the dancing. He didn't want to embarrass her, although he could already tell that her flushed cheeks might just indicate a propensity for a full body blush. He could only hope to witness something so beautiful.
They continued to speak in hushed tones.
"Your eyes. You've got such deep green eyes. It's as if they're aching to tell a secret. And your hair. It's like fire. It fits you, you know. You are like fire to me. I just want you to consume me." Edward ran his fingers through her hair, and untied the crystal encrusted lace ribbon that was tied within.
Her hair fell completely down as the lace fell to the floor.
They stood on the makeshift dance floor and within their safe embrace, their lips met. Their kiss was gentle and never greedy. Their lips parted and their tongues danced. Theirs was a kiss of longing, a kiss of letting go.
Edward knew the wine cellar well. He knew that around the corner, was a smaller, separate cigar lounge, which was completely vented to the outside. There were spiral stairs that led from the cigar lounge to the street above. The Washington State Department of Alcohol and Beverage Control didn't allow smoking where alcohol was served, so this room had to be completely separate from the club.
"Shall we get more comfortable, Ivy?" He asked her.
She nodded her head and whispered, "Please."
He led her into the lounge. As they walked into the room, he gave her a quick kiss on the lips and breathed, "Stay right here. Don't move an inch."
While Ivy stood in the Cigar Lounge doorway Hero left and returned just a moment later with a long white linen tablecloth.
He shut and locked the solid wooden door, enclosing them safely and privately deep within the cave.
He placed the linen on the overstuffed leather recliner.
She closed the distance and joined him on the pristine linen that blanketed the leather.
Their lips met once more.
Edward's kiss left her lips and trailed down her neck. Bella arched her neck backward, giving his lips better access.
She ran her fingers through his tousled, sexy, soft black hair.
She gently caressed his back, tracing his strong muscles.
Edward's lips continued to explore her body. He kissed along the poisonous vines.
Bella's lace dress left little to the imagination. She wasn't wearing a bra or panties.
The painted leaves of ivy were artistically and strategically placed along her body so that nothing was revealed, but at the same time, her entire body was exposed.
Their kisses remained gentle, but the passion within those kisses was like a blazing fire.
Their hands continued to explore, and Bella wanted to touch him. She began to pull up Edward's shirt, un-tucking it from his jeans.
Bella looked at his Batman shirt and agreed that indeed he was the Superhero. This man had reached deep into her soul and saved her from herself – even if only for one night.
She traced the line of the Bat logo, causing his chest to tingle.
Bella allowed her hands to trail down to his jeans. She hesitantly wrapped her fingers on his waste, found a belt loop and gave a gentle tug.
"Are you sure you want this?" Edward asked, hoping that her answer was yes.
"Positive," Bella whispered, and she pulled her hands away from Edward's jeans and pulled her lace mini dress over her head.
Edward kicked off his boots, and then removed his t-shirt, jeans and boxers. Bella noticed that he was chiseled head to toe, like a Grecian statue. But his skin was so soft.
Except for a part of him, a prominent part of him, that was very, very hard.
Edward reached around his head and began to remove his demi-mask.
"The mask stays," She whispered breathlessly. This dark, dry cellar held no room for romance but was the perfect place for passion.
Edward kissed every vine and every leaf on her body. He noticed the broken and torn leaf on her heart and thought he should ask her about it. He wanted to fix her.
His gentle touch ghosted across the vines. His kisses and feathered touches scorched her body.
"We can stop if you want to. Tell me now, do you want to stop?" Edward actually wanted her to say it. He really didn't want just one night. He wanted to tear off his mask and show her his face. He wanted to see hers.
One night would never be enough with this woman.
"I want you. Please. I need you," Bella choked.
Edward reached down beside the recliner and pulled a packet from his jeans pocket.
And he tore the foil.
He hovered over her for a moment and continued to kiss her, to explore her. He waited for her to say no.
She didn't.
Her arms embraced him, pulling him closer. She wanted him to close the distance.
I need you.
She had said that she needed him. And, so with that sense of urgency, of longing in her voice, he wouldn't say no.
He entered her slowly, recognizing how she felt so right, so tight, as if there was a barrier stopping him from his goal. He increased his pressure and then filled her completely.
She gasped at that exact moment.
"Are you all right, baby?" His low tone echoed in her ear.
"You're perfect." Was her answer.
"No, my love, you are perfect." And, Edward kissed her gently on her neck, along her carotid.
He felt her pulse racing.
His lips found hers once again and she deepened the kiss.
His hands were on the recliner, enabling him to hold his body above hers.
And, with a gentle, rocking motion, they made love. It wasn't greedy, or lustful, or evil or wrong.
It was right. It was beautiful, it was passionate. It was perfect.
Their passion turned to fire and their breathing became hard and fast. She shuddered underneath him.
He followed her into the fire.
He thought he saw a single tear run down her cheek, but he couldn't be sure.
"Beautiful. That was so beautiful. You are beautiful," He whispered to her, as he placed gentle kisses on her neck.
An hour and a half had gone by, and having been fantastically ravaged, Ivy offered a kiss goodbye. "Thank you for the drinks and, of course, the dance."
Then she reached for her lace dress and purse.
"Please. Can I have your name?" Batman implored.
"Pam. Pamela Isley," she whispered, and ascended the spiral staircase that led outside into the brisk night air.
With tears pooling in her eyes, daring to fall, Bella hailed a cab. She'd text Alice as soon as she caught her breath.
She thought about the man she met; the hero to her villainess. She thought about how wonderful it was to let go and let someone love her.
If only for one night.
She'd leave the paint on for the rest of the night, not quite ready to say goodbye to Ivy.
The morning shower would arrive soon enough, and the water would wash away all traces of the paint.
And she'd wear her mask once more.
xXx
While Batman and Ivy were dancing in the Batcave, Penguin danced on the dance floor with Catwoman. They sat down at the VIP table and Penguin called for a server to bring over a bottle of champagne.
"I already have something," Cat admitted, then she pulled the vial out from under her dress.
Cat was about ready to take a sip when Penguin grabbed a hold of her hand.
"I'm not quite sure if that's such a good idea, Kitten, at least not out in public," Pen explained gently..
With his arm encased in Cat's, he asked her, "Shall we take this private party into my office, Pussycat."
"How about we share your champagne and my magic potion and we'll go down the rabbit hole together?" she purred back to him.
For the next hour, the Green Fairy sprinkled her magic dust and the Cat and Bird were less predator and prey and more hand in glove.
Was it love at first sight or was it the Fairy speaking?
For the first time in her life, Alice didn't care that her guard was down. She had fallen, and fallen hard. A single tear escaped her eye, as she shimmied back into her lace catsuit. She tried to open the door, but was blocked by Jasper.
"I want to wake up every morning with your sweet purr in my ear. Please. I think love you. What is your name?" Jasper begged.
She hesitated. She really, really wanted to tell him the truth. But, she'd promised Bella that tonight there would be no names, no numbers, and no trace.
"Selina Kyle." And, with that, she walked out of the igloo and back into the raging club. When she didn't see her friend, she darted out the front door and into the back of a Yellow Cab. When her tears dried, she'd text Bella to make sure she made it home.
But her tears wouldn't stop and they streamed down her cheeks.
Alice loved him, too.
xXx
Monday arrived and Edward could think of nothing else but the captivating woman named "Pam Isley". When he should have been making phone calls and brokering deals for his athletes, he was thinking about Pam. He didn't have the time to search for her himself, so he paid the two hundred dollars and had the experts perform an advanced "people search".
It came up empty. No Facebook account. No Twitter account. No local cell phone record. No land line. No license registered within the Washington DMV, or any of the fifty states for that matter.
It was as if she simply didn't exist.
Jasper had done a similar search in his quest to find Selina Kyle. He ended up empty handed as well.
The three men met that evening at The Players Club. Emmett talked about his trip to Hawaii with "Blondie". He told them he still didn't plan on bringing her around. Emmett said he was in love with her.
For real.
Emmett said that he wasn't going to corrupt her quite yet with his friend's presence. They wouldn't be meeting her anytime soon.
But someday he'd grace them with her beauty and intellect. She was a doctor, you know. Not a real doctor-doctor. But a psychiatrist or something like that.
She rocked his world. She fixed his Jeep.
Edward and Jasper talked about the women that captivated their hearts and minds.
Edward talked about Pam's red hair and her bright green eyes. He talked about her soft voice and her quiet nature. He said she had creamy white porcelain skin. He talked about her gentle touch.
Edward said he'd never met a woman in his whole life that was quite like her.
Jasper talked in no uncertain terms that he had fallen in love again. He talked about how she showed no pretenses and somehow he could feel the emotions that were exuding from her beautiful heart and mind.
Edward and Jasper talked to each other about their failed attempts to find these women.
Then, Emmett asked for the names of these mystery-women.
They told him.
Emmett laughed hard. Really hard. He leaned back on his chair as he laughed.
He laughed so hard his chair fell out from under him and Emmett crashed to the floor.
But he kept on laughing so hard his sides hurt.
His rude behavior quickly grated on Edward's and Jasper's nerves.
Edward asked Emmett what the fuck his problem was.
Emmett's boisterous laugh was heard throughout the club. "Selina Kyle and Pamela Isley? Both of you should've put down your accounting manuals and opened up a comic book once in while, 'cause you two have been played."
Emmett glared in Edward's direction. "And, by the way, the next time you book me a commercial, I want to see the script first. I only had one line to say, but it took me twenty-two takes to finally get it right. It was embarrassing, man! You'd never believe what those fuckers at Trojan made me say!"
xxxxXxxxx
A/N
Wanna know what Emmett's line was in the Trojan commercial?
Leave me a review or a smiley : ) and I'll PM you!
Special thanks to all the people around the world who are reading, alerting and fav'ing. I really appreciate your support.
xXx
Follow me on twitter (at) hockeymomtweets and I'll follow you right back
So, what's up with those "fake" names that Isabella and Alice used at the Maskorade Ball?
* Pamela Isley "is"Poison Ivy in the Batman comics.
* Selina Kyle "is" Catwoman and was first introduced in the Batman television series in 1940. She is a villainess, but not "evil", more like a cat burglar. She broke the "glass ceiling" as a female in the comics and predates Wonder Woman and all the others.
xXx
I want to make sure I thank author "Ironic Twist", because it was her fic "Harder they Fall" that actually inspired this chapter, which of course led to this fic. Please give her fic a look. It's a well written story with an original storyline.
xXx
A&E is dedicated to my RL friends and neighbors
LD, MR, MK
Thanks for the support and encouragement
The Alice in Wonderland Teapot is filled with PG Tips
Just for you
