Disclaimer:I do not own Sky High, its setting, premise, or characters -or related characters named and unnamed. All is the property of Walt Disney Pictures, Buena Vista Pictures, Andrew Gunn, and Mark McCorkie.
Between Peace and Battle
Chapter Five: How Their Second Date Went
The day was so bright and sunny, Battle had to swap out his glasses for his prescription shades.
He was dressed casually this time. No nice slacks, no dress shirt, no blazer. Mara said no pretense. So, he didn't dress-up. Instead, Battle wore jeans, a Megadeth t-shirt (black), and a leather jacket.
It looked like Mara had dressed down for the occasion too. Battle almost didn't recognize her when she came up to him wearing flat-sole sandals, a gingham skirt that went down to her knees, a white blouse, and a sunshine yellow cardigan. Her red hair without that absurd perm and instead pulled into a side ponytail that bounced when she came running up to him. She was dressed so modestly! It was a stark contrast to everything he'd seen her wearing before.
"Megadeth?" She questioned, eyeing his shirt. "Wouldn't have taken you for a metal fan."
"What about you?" He shot back. "You look like a librarian."
"I am a librarian." Mara reminded him.
That's right. She mentioned as much on their first date. She was a librarian, but not a naughty librarian. She was a naughty hero, but not a naughty librarian.
Battle cleared his throat. "So, what'd you have in mind for our second date?"
She started strolling down the sidewalk that ran the perimeter of the park. "There's a nice café that offers bottomless mimosas when you order the brunch special."
Mimosas, as it turned out, were champaign mixed with orange juice. Battle discovered this very quickly after taking his first sip. The orange juice part was sweet and citrusy, exactly how orange juice should be. But it was ruined by the alcohol of the champaign. Battle set his glass down and ordered a real orange juice instead.
"Not a fan of champaign?" Mara asked.
"Alcohol tastes bad and it does nothing for me." Battle had to inform her. "I have no reason to keep trying to drink it."
You'd think he'd just grown a second head the way Mara stared at him. "You don't get drunk?"
"No…" Battle was unsure if she was suddenly concerned that he would always be able to take advantage of her if she drank too much around him. After all, he was a villain. What reason did she have to trust him not to make unsolicited advances while she was intoxicated.
Instead, Mara smiled. "So, you'll always be the designated driver!"
"Uh…?" That was not what he expected. "Are you planning on getting smashed?" At brunch? It was, like, eleven AM.
"Not right now." She assured him. "But some time. Eventually. We keep dating long enough and you'll see me drunk at some point."
Battle felt his face warm and knew he was flushed, and he was embarrassed by the fact that she made his blush so easily. "How long do you imagine this going on?"
Mara shrugged. "For as long as we're having fun. I've never dated a supervillain before. Gotta say, I would have expected you to be more of a bad boy. But on our first date you were a timid little baby deer." She giggled. "Bambi."
He bristled. No one had ever had the balls to call him 'Bambi' in his life! Not even Ave, who insisted on calling him a puppy, would have ever dared call him 'Bambi'. He was not some baby deer, ambling around the forest on unsteady legs, who frolicked through flowers and made friends with cute little woodland creatures. Hell! Back when he lived up in the mountains, he ate most of those cute little woodland creatures.
"You okay there?" He heard Mara ask. Battle wasn't aware his eyes were closed until he opened them and saw her hazel eyes looking at him from across the table with concern. "I didn't mean to insult you. I thought it was cute."
"I'm not a Bambi." He told her.
"Okay. So you're not a Bambi." She soothed.
There was an awkward pause. The conversation reaching a sort of lull in which neither one of them knew what to say.
Mara sipper her mimosa. Battle sipped his regular orange juice.
"So…" She decided it was time to break the silence again. "How does one become a supervillain? Like, what kind of life choices lead to knowingly and willingly living a life of villainy?"
Battle snorted, running a finger over the rim of his glass. "Am I supposed to pour out some tragic backstory to make you sympathize with my struggles?" He stopped running his hand over the glass and drained the last of his juice. He resolved that if she ever asked, he would tell her about his father. But not yet. He wasn't ready yet. They didn't really know each other well enough yet. "I just didn't want to be a hero."
"Really?" She blinked at him. "That's so simple! I was honestly expecting something more complicated."
"Supervillains don't need complicated motivations." He informed her, oddly defensive.
"Yeah, but you're not really a real supervillain." She scoffed.
"Excuse me!?" What the fuck was that supposed to mean!? He was a villain and he had super powers. What else was there to being a supervillain? How dare she try and undervalue him like that!
"I mean, yeah, you do bad things." She agreed. "But you free countries from despots and dictatorships. You're more of a vigilante than a clear-cut villain."
Rude! And wrong. "What makes you think I take out despots, and free countries?" Battle demanded. "Just because it happened to work out that way once!"
The server brought then their food. It had been pointless for Battle to order the brunch special since he wasn't drinking the bottomless mimosa's but he bit into his sundried tomato and mozzarella panini anyway and wished for a side of steak to pair with it. He watched Mara drench her own food in Tabasco sauce before taking a bite.
"Okay." She began again after the server had left. "Then list some other people that you've…" she paused, casting her brain around for a gentler way to say 'killed' "…taken out."
Battle hesitated, wondering if this might be a trap of some kind. Get him to confess to all his crimes so that she could put him away for the rest of his significantly long life and any resurrections or subsequent lives to come. She was wearing more clothing than he was used to seeing her in. She could be wearing a wire. A van full of feds, or Interpol parked somewhere listening in. His eyes did a sweep of her white blouse and yellow cardigan. So much fabric. So little skin. What was she hiding under there besides that tight little body?
"You don't have to answer if you don't want to." She informed him. "This date is supposed to be so we can figure out if we really can continue to see each other. I only asked for no lies. Not answering a question is not lying. Not answering a question is setting a boundary. A boundary that I will respect." A pause. "You were the one who said 'no secrets'."
Well, fuck if she didn't have him there!
"It's kinda a long list." Battle informed her. "I… I've been doing this for eight years."
Eight years. Approximately one job a month –sometimes two jobs a month- that came to between ninety-six to a hundred and forty-four missions since he was seventeen. Battle was sure Ave kept a record and would have an exact number. But Battle did not keep count. Of course, not all jobs were hits. Some were thefts. Some espionage –corporate or political. So, over a hundred jobs did not mean over a hundred kills.
Mara blinked at him. Horrified. "You must have still been in school when you started!"
"I had living expenses." And he couldn't survive off of pawning his father's old trophies and artifacts forever.
"And your parents let you!?"
"My parents were dead." Battle informed her.
He watched his mother tumbled down the stairs and break her neck. He knelt over her body while the medical examiner declared her an 'accidental death'. He listened as his father explained to the police that she just 'tripped' from the top of the stairs. …and Battle killed the old man for it. Later. When he was strong enough. He took all the training the old man gave him and used it to avenge his mother's death. Then he took anything of value from that old house in the woods, came down from the mountains, and started to squat in a seedy motel in South Side.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Mara sounded genuinely sympathetic for him, and Battle realized he had given her a bread crumb of exactly the 'tragic backstory' she was probably expecting. "Losing a parent is hard. Especially when you're young. I- I remember when my dad died…"
Battle jumped on that. Steering focus of the conversation away from his own parents and onto hers. "Burnhawk, right?"
She gave a weak little nod. Then sipped her mimosa, avoiding eye-contact. She was sad. Talking about her dead dad made her sad. Unlike Battle, she actually loved her father.
"We don't have to talk about dead parents if you don't want to." He told her.
He certainly didn't want to have to offer anything about his father in return. Not yet. Maybe… maybe eventually. But not yet. Not when they were still feeling each other out. Seeing if this attraction was genuine, or would just fizzle out and disappear. They spent six months apart and still wanted to see each other, so maybe this was real. But… it could also just be because they left things unfinished after their first date.
Mara gave a weak, but appreciative, little smile.
The conversation lapsed into another awkward silence.
She added more hot sauce to her food.
Battle wished for bloody red meat.
"So, Megadeth." Mara cleared her throat, bringing the conversation back to his shirt. "You know that band was only created so that Dave Mustaine could say a big F-you to Metallica, right? It's a spite-band, not a metal band."
"All metal bands are spite-bands." Battle informed her, much more comfortable with talking about something shallow and inconsequential like music.
She gave a snort of amusement. "And all metalheads are spiteful little boys who're angry with their daddies."
Damn. Okay. Maybe talking about music wasn't quite as shallow and safe as Battle thought it might be.
"What kind of music do you listen to?" He asked, turning the question back on her. If she could make –not entirely inaccurate- assessments of his character based off his musical tastes, then he could do the same with her.
Mara shrugged. "I'm kinda eclectic. I like a little of everything. Pop. Glam rock. Hair metal. My favorite song changes every week."
"Hair metal isn't metal." Battle informed her, never realizing he even had an opinion on the matter before. "Hair metal is just angrier glam rock." –She snorted at that.- "But what's your favorite song this week?"
"We Built This City, by Starship." She answered, blushing. Was she self-conscious or something? She didn't blush when she was making bold sexual innuendoes during a monster fights. She didn't blush when she tied him to his own bed and sucked his balls. She didn't blush when she walked out of his bedroom stark naked. But telling him her flavor-of-the-week song, that was embarrassing.
"Mm." He cast his brain about for something charming to say to put her at ease. "So, what kind of zoning would be needed to build a city on rock and roll?"
She blinked at him, not getting the joke at first and Battle was disappointed.
Then Mara snorted. Loudly. A high, nasal snort of laughter. She had to cover her nose with her hand to hide the unladylike noise. People at other tables shot her judgy looks and disapproving glares. Battle smiled back at her. That was the most adorable sound he'd ever heard come out of a human body. He quickly decided he liked her laugh.
"That's such a clean and innocent joke for a supervillain to make." Mara told him.
Battle bared his teeth at her in a challenge. "This from the hero who made the 'who's penetrating who' comment during our movie."
For a hero, she had a very dark sense of humor. Apparently, for a villain, he had a very 'clean and innocent' sense of humor.
Mara tilted her head to the side, not remembering the comment she made in the movie they saw together. It had been six months ago. That was half a year. She tried to run through it in her head. That was back when she still thought he was a hero, or at the very least, some denomination of anti-hero, and wanted to sleep with him more than actually date him in any serious capacity. To that end, it was probably a sex joke. The movie he picked had been pretty violent –that should have been a clue that he wasn't hero material right here- and it didn't leave much opportunity for sexual innuendo. At least, not the fun kind of sexual innuendo.
Then she remembered. "Oh! Yeah…" She sucked in a hissing breath between her teeth. "That was pretty dark. My jokes aren't usually like that. I promise."
"I liked it." Battle told her.
She snorted again. "You're a supervillain. You would."
"Even with my 'clean and innocent' sense of humor?" He grinned at her. Battle was teasing her. He hadn't playfully teased a girl since… well, since before Sue disappeared he supposed. She had been his best friend in high school. People accused them of being sweethearts, but Sue Tenny was really more like the sister he never had –and they teased each other like the siblings they never were.
"Levels of humor, I guess." Mara conceded. Then exclaimed. "Oh, Gawd! I can only imagine what your dad-jokes might one day be!"
"I'm gonna be a dad now?" He pitched it like another tease.
But the very thought filled Battle with dread. His own father was a monster in a hero costume. He had no other frames of reference or examples to draw from. He would be a terrible father and damage his own child as much as he was damaged by his father. Unconsciously, Battle's eyes flicked down to where she sat on the other side of the table. It had been six months since he and Mara Peace had slept together. If something had come of that night she would have definitely, definitely been showing by now. But she was still as slender and tiny as the day she plucked him out of freefall.
"I donno." She shrugged, completely oblivious to the tiny panic attack she'd just given him. As far as Mara was concerned, they were still keeping things light and breezy. "I don't know your life plan. If you wanna settle down with a wife and have two point five children, a house with a yard, a cat, and a mortgage. Or if you wanna take over the world. Like, what kind of life goals do supervillains even aspire to?"
Taking a sip of his orange juice, Battle used it as a way to delay the question. Get himself back under control. He swallowed the sip harder than he needed to, but he was calmer. He could slide back into the flow of the conversation.
Battle shrugged. "I guess I don't really have any 'life goals'." He admitted. "Ever since I started, it's just sort of been this way. I got comfortable. I never really thought about the future."
He never had a compelling reason to. He made enough money to support himself. He owned his own home, a condo in one of the most sought after buildings in Downtown. He lived alone, and didn't have to make considerations for another person in financial decisions. He ate what he wanted. He slept when he wanted. He worked when he wanted. It was a comfortable life. Battle was satisfied. He never thought about 'the future', or 'what comes after'. He just assumed his life would always be the same.
"That's so weird!" Mara informed him. "In school, all the supervillains in the text books have lofty goals of ridding the planet of this or that, or taking over the world, or moving the continents back to Pangea, or killing all humans. Big things. Difficult things. Things it would take a lifetime to achieve."
"That sounds exhausting." Battle informed her. "I just wanna do a job, get paid, then go home and watch TV. I can already do that, I don't need to strive for anything more. Do you have lofty goals of stopping some insane supervillain who wants to... I donno, freeze the Earth and send us into another Ice Age?"
Although, if that was what was going down, Battle would get in on the stopping it part. You protect the Home Ground. He lived on Earth, so if it was the whole planet that was in danger, Battle would place himself on the hero's side. Temporarily, obviously. For completely self-serving reasons. He was not an altruistic person. He just didn't want his home to be destroyed. And he didn't think that should be a uniquely 'hero' desire.
"Fame and popularity would be nice." She admitted. "But I'd settle for the news actually calling me 'Flamebird'."
And Battle remembered that the newspapers called her 'a Girl-Hero', not 'Flamebird'.
"But that's not really a 'life goal'." Mara informed him. "Some day I'd like to move out of my mother's house. Some day, I'd like to meet a nice guy and get married –not to you, obviously, Mr. Supervillain. Some day, I'd like to have children –ideally, with the nice guy I married."
He snorted. Her life goals were so conventional. "So, what are you doing wasting your time with me?"
She smirked back. A mischievous little smirk that made Battle want to climb over the table and kiss that naughty little mouth of hers.
"I'm only twenty-two." She reminded him. "I gotta get all the wild out before I can settle down and join the PTA."
"So I'm just a youthful fling." He concluded. For some reason that disappointed Battle. He wasn't saying he wanted a house with a yard, and a fleet of children under foot. But he wouldn't mind this sexy little flame thrower living with him if she wanted to move out of her mother's place. He especially wouldn't mind if she walked around the condo naked as a regular thing.
Mara shrugged. "Basically."
So… so there was no point to them dating. Not really. Sure, she was fun to hang out with and she seemed to genuinely like him –for some reason- but not enough to stick with him. Battle wasn't so interested in marriage, that was true. But he wouldn't say 'no' to a life-long girlfriend. He wouldn't say 'no' to an attractive and intelligent woman living with him. He wouldn't say 'no' to the vast majority of things up to, marriage and children. That was his line, he supposed.
Mara tilted her head again, studying him. "You look sad." She observed. "Don't tell me you really do want a traditional nuclear family."
That did not sound like a very supervillain-ish thing to want.
"I never thought about it." Battle repeated, shaking his head. "But I shouldn't. I would ruin any child I have a hand in raising."
"'Ruin' like… they would become a supervillain too?" She asked. Not so much concerned or even suspicious. More curious.
Battle felt suddenly insulted. "There's nothing wrong with being a supervillain. Villains might not adhere to your idea of 'right and wrong', but at least we're not brainwashed, indoctrinated, mindless tools! We live our own lives, by our own views and opinions. We're independent. Reactionary. Counter-culturalists."
"Anarchists." Head still tilted, Mara squinted at him. "Why did you really become a villain? Having bills to pay is one thing, but there are other ways a teenager can earn money without resorting to homicide."
He hesitated again. Taking a bite of his panini to have an excuse to keep from answering. Battle already didn't answer one of her questions, when she asked about other people he's killed. When she asked him out for a second date, Battle resolved that he would tell her anything. But, so far, he'd been closed off and guarded. Swallowing, he decided to answer her first question instead. Talking about kills was easier than talking about his father.
"Lord Mark Fitzwilliam, lord of Walenshire." He told her. "And Prince Kashgorm, son of Prince Kashnan of Ajarakh. Comrade Leonid Ilyich Brezhnev of the Soviet Union. Kẻ Xấu of the Khmer Rouge."
Mara blinked at him. Not understanding. Surely these high-profile, wealthy or political figures were not the reason he became a villain. Battle already said he had no desire to take over the world, and he didn't read the news. So how would he even know about these people –all of whom were from other countries. "Did I ask a different question than I thought I asked?"
"You asked who else I've 'taken out'." Battle supplied. "Earlier. You asked that earlier. I'm answering now."
It took her a moment longer to catch up in the topic-shift of the conversation. Mara blinked when she finally got herself back up to speed. "Killing, uh, killing Soviet leadership sounds more like 'serving your country' than it does 'being a villain'." She finally told him. Brezhnev being the only name he listed that she recognized. "The rest I'll look up."
"Did- did you just call me a government spook?" Battle didn't know how he felt about that.
"You sound insulted." Mara observed. "Being a supervillain and a murderer is a-okay with you, but working for your own country's interests is where you draw the line?"
"I'm not political." Battle reminded her.
"And yet, you seem to have an opinion." She pointed out. Otherwise, he would not have gotten insulted. "Actually, it totally makes sense to me. This conservative republican administration employing supervillains to do their dirty work for them. If the villain gets caught, the administration can claim ignorance of the plot and renounced the villain's citizenship and immunities. I get it. And, honestly, it's kinda a relief to see that you don't like the idea of working for this current government."
He made a face. Battle had forgotten that she liked to get political over meals. She was liberal and opinionated. He, on the other hand, had no compelling feelings one way or another. "Look, Sparky, I just do a job and then get paid. I really don't care who I'm working for." A pause. "I'm working for myself."
"Mm, so you keep saying." Mara offered him a humoring smile. "And yet, of the two hits that I've heard of before, one was a despotic dictator, and the other was a high-profile leader of our country's biggest rival. So, two for two, you appear to only kill bad people."
"I feel obligated to point out to you that you're making some fairly large assumptions, based off of very little information." Battle reminded her.
"And why does that concern you?" She rested her elbows on the table, interlacing her fingers. "Why does the big bad supervillain care what assumptions the naïve little hero makes?"
Battle scoffed. "How is that a question. I've already admitted to wanting you to like me. I can't let you build me up in your head as some kind of misunderstood anti-hero. The moment you realize that fantasy isn't true you'll get pissed off and dump me."
"Well, we're gonna break-up eventually." Mara reminded him. "You've already admitted to never thinking about the future and I, some day, wanna have a traditional nuclear family. Obviously, I won't be having those things with you. So, obviously, we'll be dumping each other at some point."
"Which brings me back to, why are we even trying to date in the first place?"
"Having fun isn't enough of a reason?" She shot back. "If you've never thought about what you want out of your future, and don't care about getting a wife, and think you shouldn't have kids, why do you date?"
"Sex. Obviously." Battle didn't even have to think about his answer.
But when Mara grinned at him from across the table, he feared maybe that was the wrong answer to give. "Well, you do have a big dick, so I guess there's that." That grin melted into her mischievous smirk. "But I said we weren't gonna have sex on this date, remember. So, why'd you agree to come?"
Battle swallowed a knot in his throat. This woman was going to ruin him.
…
After brunch, she led him on a walk through the park. She led him. His hand held in hers, their fingers intertwined. The stroll was slow and leisurely.
Mara dragged Battle down the narrow paths between the trees. The secluded areas that weren't as populated as the open grass, or children's playground. The perfect area for crime. Was her plan to double cross and beat him up? No. Heroes didn't do that. Passing through the trees, Battle realized that Mara had taken them on a shortcut to the pond.
A wide expanse of water too small to be a lake, and not naturally occurring. It was wide enough for small docks to cut out into it for fishing, but not large enough to allow for paddle boats or swimming. The water was dark and stagnant except for the occasional carp, or duck disturbing the surface.
They strolled along the bank, hand in hand. Just like a pair of average and mundane lovers.
It was a nice sunny day, the city was peaceful, and Battle was in good company. Overall, this was pleasant date.
"So, are you going to kiss me or not?" Mara asked as they started their second lap around the pond.
"Huh?" Battle looked down at her startled. She was the one calling the shots this whole time. Did didn't know it was okay to initiate an advance she hadn't already expressed a desire for. "Do you want me to?"
She gave another snort and nasal laugh. Battle liked making her laugh, but he wasn't quite sure what the joke was here. He had a suspicious that this time he was laughing at him and that he didn't like.
"Your genitals have already been inside me, but you're shy about a little kissing." Tilting her head, she looked up at him through her eyelashes. "I had no idea supervillains were so timid."
"I'm not timid." Battle felt like he should be insulted. But, he was the one who let her tie him up and told her to do her worst. Maybe he was timid, just, not in the way he was used to applying word.
"Then kiss me, you goof." Mara stopped walking. Turning towards him, standing on her tip-toes, neck craned up, lips puckered.
Placing his free hand on the small of her back, Battle pulled her tiny body flush against his. Bending down to meet her, eyes closed, he brushed his lips against hers. Maybe he was timid. The kiss was a chase, closed mouth affair. Lips against lips, no open mouth, no tongue, definitely no teeth. He held the kiss for the space of three heartbeats before finally pulling away again.
She sighed. "What, did you have, like, a conservative upbringing or something?"
Battle flushed. Oddly uncomfortable. "Yes. Actually."
"Oh." Mara apparently hadn't expected that to be the truth. "Is that why you became a villain?"
Not exactly. "I already told you why I became a villain."
"You did…" She nodded slowly, as if she didn't believe the reasons he gave her. But Mara didn't press the issue. Instead she hopped up in an empty bench and grabbed his head with both hands, framing his face. "Maybe I should just teach you how to kiss."
Battle tried to pull away, but found that he couldn't. She had tangled her fingers in his hair, if he tried to pull away, all he succeeded in doing was pulling his own hair. "Maybe no teeth this time?"
"We'll work up to teeth." Mara promised, bearing hers at him in a parody of a smile. If Mara Peace ever decided to switch sides and become a supervillain, she would be on terrifying supervillain.
Closing his eyes, Battle braced himself for more tongue, saliva, and biting. He trusted her not to make him bleed again, but he did not trust her not to use teeth at all. There was just something so… aggressive about Mara. For the most part, Battle liked it. He found her exciting. But it also made her intimidating. Very, very intimidating.
He felt her lean forward, bracing more of her body weight against him.
But their lips didn't meat.
Somewhere off to the side of them there was a shocked gasp and a wordless exclamation. Followed quickly by a woman shouting. "My purse! That man stole my purse!"
Mara heaved an exasperated sigh and let go of him. "Unbelievable."
Battle opened his eyes blinking. She had her absurdly large handbag in her hands and was fishing around inside it. He watched her pull out of a wad of brightly colored fabric and recognized it as part of her costume. Hopping off the park bench, Mara kicked off her shoes and slipped the bottoms on under her long skirt.
"Um…" Battle had no idea what he was seeing here. Was she seriously changing clothes in the middle of a crowded park? He felt his face grow hot again and knew he was blushing again. Not just blushing but turning a very vivid shade of red.
"In broad daylight!" She looked up at Battle. "You're big, stand close to me. Hide me."
"Um…" He said again, not sure what he was supposed to do or say.
Battle watched her slip the top of her costume up under her blouse, then pull her arms in out of her sleeves. There was an awful lot of motion going on under that blouse and cardigan. She- she actually was changing her clothes right there, in a public part. Finally, she pulled off the blouse and cardigan, then pushed down the skirt. Fishing another hand back into the handbag, Mara finally pulled out her mask. Then it wasn't Mara Peace standing in front of him anymore, it was Flamebird.
"Wait here." She ordered. Then threw her handbag at him. "And hold my purse."
Then he was watching her sweet ass fly away as she chased down the purse snatcher.
Battle watched the poor bastard get tacked by four feet and eleven inches of scantily clad red-head. Was it wrong that Battle kinda wanted her to tackle and pin him like that? Of course, the scenario he was imagining in his mind, Mara wasn't ripping a stolen purse out of his hands and returning it to its rightful owner. In Battle's scenario, she was burning his clothes off and shoving certain parts of her female anatomy against his mouth. Battle wasn't timid. He just preferred aggressive partners.
The woman thanked Flamebird profusely for getting her purse back for her.
A parking guard who patrolled around the park came up to hold the would-be thief until the real police could arrive and arrest him. Battle looked around for a payphone. There were none anywhere near where they were and he had to wonder if anyone had even managed to call the police yet.
Mara let the woman hug her, thanked the parking guard for taking the bad guy off her hands, then leaped into the air and flew away.
Battle watched her brightly colored costume shrink in his vision until she was almost out of sight. Then turn. Making a long arc around the park, flying low. She eventually landed in the wooded area with poor visibility. Still holding her handbag, Battle gathered up her discarded civilian clothing and walked to meet her.
She smiled when she saw him walking up. "Ya know, now that I know you're a villain, I kinda half-expected you to just run away with my purse."
"This giant thing!" He held up her handbag. "I don't think I'd get farther than half a block lugging this."
Mara gave another snort.
Battle smiled. He liked it when she laughed. He held out her civilian clothing for her. "Here."
"Thanks." And Mara just pulled off the top of her costume. Not even the pretense of modesty. Just peeled off the brightly colored spandex, showing off that she still wasn't wearing a bra. Nipples still pierced by those gold barrel piercings. She grabbed her blouse from him and slipped it on over her head. "Ya know, it's kinda nice having someone to watch my stuff while I go after the bad guys."
"I'm going to assume that's a complement." He told her. Although, it sounded suspiciously like she was calling him a sidekick. Holding the bag, or the secret identity clothing sounded more like a sidekick's job.
"It means I like having you around." She clarified, peeling off the bottoms of her costume next.
Revealing a tiny little triangle of fabric covering her sex. Bright red and cottony. It made Battle remember the black lace panties she'd left on his bedroom floor. He still had them. He kept them in his bedside table. Mara grabbed her skirt from him and pulled that one next.
In a matter of moments, she had transformed back from Naught Superhero, to modest librarian. The only evidence that she ever changed at all, her side ponytail was a little messy.
"Well, that was exciting." She smiled at him. Taking his arm again, Mara steered him down the path. "I'll walk you back to your car."
"Wait, that's it?" Battle found himself asking. He wanted more time with her. He wanted to spend the rest of the day with her. He wanted this date to go until evening. He wanted her to come back to his place. He wanted… Battle sighed. Before he even agreed to this second date she told him they would not be having sex this time. Clearly, they had to part ways at some point. He let her walk him back to his car.
This time, she opened the door for him.
Leaning through the open driver side window, Mara finally delivered the kiss she was about to give him before the purse snatcher so rudely interrupted them. Lips sliding against lips, mouth open, tongue slithering out to demand entry into his mouth. Battle parted his lips before she could force her way in. Her aggressive kissing was much more pleasant now that he knew what to expect. Battle slid his tongue along hers, slithering in to explore her mouth in turn. Her kind of open mouth kissing was actually kinda nice. Not invasive like the first time. More a… mutual exchange of desire. And Battle definitely desired her.
True to her word, she did not use teeth. There was no biting of his bottom lip as she pulled away.
"Do you wanna have a third date?" She asked.
"Very much." He admitted.
Mara nodded. "I still don't want you coming to my home, so don't pick me up. But next time we can have sex if you want it."
Battle very, very, very much wanted it. "My place?" He suggested. "I'll make dinner."
She sucked on her bottom lip. "A big dick and cooking skills. It's so not fair that you're a villain."
He offered her a mischievous smirk of his own. "What can I say? I live to displease."
"Naughty boy." Mara teased, grinning a suggestive grin of her own. "Someone should punish you…"
"Mm, is that someone you?"
"Do you want me to punish you?" She smiled back.
Battle was about to grin back and passionately admit 'yes'. But he found himself pausing. Suddenly holding back the answer. Feeling inexplicably guarded and cautious. The last time a hero said they needed to 'punish' him, he got the shit beat out of him –and definitely not in a sexy way.
"What would 'punishment' entail?" He asked instead.
"Whatever you're comfortable with." Mara promised. "We'll lay down some ground rules before we begin. And if you change your mind about anything while we're doing it, just use the safe word and I'll stop. Remember, you can revoke consent at any time."
Battle nodded. "My place. Dinner. See you then."
…