Rating's changed. Now it's Mature. Yes, this is sort of a warning.

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The Oral Tradition

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It's now been five months since they've been "shackin' up" and a year and two months since The Operation began, and they've been through three Supers and some mildly amusing moments and everything's been pretty much hunky-dory, yeah, but things had to go to shit sometime, now didn't they?

Things had to get a little scary, after all, they are villains and their thoughts are mightily un-pure, but this is Mirage's weakness—she tries to see the logic in everything, but there's really no logic in Syndrome.

He seems one way, yes, oh, yet he's quite another. And he'd never lay a hand on her, though that fact doesn't mean he won't spend hours at night watching her sleep while wondering how hot it would be to hold her prisoner. To hurt her. (He blames it on the pills.)

They've been some interesting places—health food stores, plane rides— but this one really takes the cake. For one, he's standing, propped against the wall. She's kneeling. And she's wishing that he was in her place because he's putting a whole new meaning in oral. He won't shut up.

When she bit her lip sweetly and suggested the guest quarters and motioned to him to pull that spandex

down, his face lit up with unusual glee.

"No way," he exclaimed. This was a moment Syndrome had been anticipating, if not subconsciously. Mirage just had the best mouth and the perkiest lips and the best can-do attitude.

And he really hadn't gotten over the excitement, because he kept saying things like "Oh yeah!", "Ka-chow!", and "There it is!"

Mirage has put herself in a very difficult position. She can't say anything back. She's really gone down to "that" level, and she knows it. Yet "that" level has its merits and at least she's getting some enjoyment, too, though she would have preferred stunned silence to this plethora of joyous outbursts.

However, she cannot do much except finish the job. Mirage is a go-getter, she's a take-action gal. She doesn't leave projects unfinished. And Syndrome's quickly rising member is most definitely a project. Bless her, she's a Virgo after all.)

She's pleased with herself when he crescendos with a rather violent "yes!", leaving her smiling doe-eyed at him from the floor where she's so willingly placed herself.

"That was…" he stepped back a few paces, fumbling around for a moment, pulling his spandex pants back on. "..invigorating," he finished, with a calm smile, so calm in fact it's like a parallel version of his previous state. "Ya know, I really should give you a raise. No one else in this place ever does anything important." He grins. "That was amazing. See you later, maybe tomorrow. I've got some work to do."

The door shuts. He's gone.

Mirage is left on the floor, her mouth full, her heart wrought. 'It doesn't matter. You don't really care for him that much. This is all corporate, like he said.'

Still

'Important? The hours I spend taking messages, and investigating and interviewing, and I'm getting raises because I sleep with him and suck him off?'

She spits, she doesn't care about the expensive carpet, if he makes any remark she'll tell him the mess is his anyway.

'I could have any man, and any woman, really, if I set my mind to it! If I left this job, I'd be swarmed, I'd be covered in lovers and admirers and all you'd have is your stupid island! I'm really nice to be here, I'm just really goddamn nice.'

And maybe that's the entire point. Maybe she's nice and he's not. If only it were as simple as that. It all goes back to the operation, really. Super Heroes are bad because they're supposed to be nice. But Syndrome never promised Mirage anything, except when he said he'd keep her out of harm's way.

Syndrome never said he was nice.

And if Mirage could get any man and any woman, why was she on Nomansian Island? Why didn't she tell Syndrome to fuck off and just leave? She could return to defending.

Yet, there on the floor, Mirage realized that this wasn't corporate at all to her, and she was with Syndrome mostly because he was Syndrome (though the gifts were a nice bonus), and she didn't want to leave. This was her life.

She was more dismayed with this thought than angry, yet she demanded vacation time and left the next morning.