It's Gonna Cost You

"I'm going to need some repairs done to my apartment."

Ashley looked up at Stormfront, who looked weirdly proud of herself. "What happened?"

"Homelander and I fucked. There's—quite a bit of damage." She flashed a superior smile.

Well, aren't you Queen of Shit Mountain now that Homelander stuck his dick in you. You might want to remember that club isn't nearly as exclusive as you seem to think it is. Ashley kept that thought off her face and hit the intercom to her secretary. "Could you pull the name and number of the contractor we use for interior work? We need to get an estimate for one of the apartments."

"And you need to get a move on, Ashy. I want this fixed on the double."

Fuck you, you self-impressed bitch. It'll be fixed when it's fixed. If you wanted to stay in your apartment, you shouldn't have let Homelander fuck your walls into Swiss cheese. Ashley smiled at the idea and said to her secretary, "Please let the contractor know this is going to be a rush job. "

"Yes, Ms. Barrett."

"If you can give me the key, Stormfront, we can get on this as soon as the contractor gets here."

Stormfront gave Ashley a smile, along with her key. "You're such a good little lackey. He made the right choice for the job."

Shame that's the last good decision he made. She waited for Stormfront to leave, but the woman hovered in front of her. "Is there anything else?"

"No." Doubt passed across the other woman's face and she seemed reluctant to leave.

"I'll keep you advised on the progress." Ashley went back to reading reports and when she looked up Stormfront was gone.

What was that about? Does she think he used to be my boyfriend and was trying to rub my nose in her new fuckbuddy? Try Queen Maeve for that, bitch; he never threw a single fuck in my general direction, thank God. I don't like massive bodily trauma when getting the D.

An hour later the intercom buzzed. "The contractor is here, Ms. Barrett."

"Thank you. I'll be out in a second."

Ashley took the contractor to Stormfront's apartment and opened the door. He stepped inside and exclaimed, "Jesus tap-dancing Christ! What the fuck happened in here?"

Stormfront had understated the issue when she said "quite a bit of damage." The place looked like a BTK BDSM destructo-derby had taken place. She cast around for an explanation—no way was she telling the truth, this guy wasn't a human lie detector like her boss—and went with, "There was an incident. I can't say any more. National security, you understand."

He took a big whiff. "And why does it smell like a luau in here?"

Ashley breathed in and said, "I would think a barbecue? I guess there's a reason cannibals call human beings 'long pig.'"

"What's that now?"

"Nothing. I don't know why we're smelling burnt pig." She pictured Stormfront on a spit with an apple in her mouth and grinned.

"Well, let's get started." Ashley suppressed a sigh. "You got a big-ass hole in the wall there. Somebody punch it in?"

"From the size, I'd say somebody got thrown into it."

"You got at least another half-dozen of those in this room only, and it looks like there was soundproofing that's a complete write-off now, so that's gonna cost you. There's some damage to some decorative work over there, but that's peanuts, that's maybe two thousand. You wish the whole place was just like that."

"Sure do."

"And that's not all. You got this post over here that's shattered. Not damaged, not broken, shattered. And this looks like—" He picked up a shard from the floor "— marble." Now if this were tiles we wouldn't have much of a problem and I could get this replaced today, but this is a pillar. And it's made of Carrara marble, which is going to have to be imported from Italy, and unless money's not an object, it isn't going to match the other posts in the room. You want it quick or do you want to pay for it to match?"

Ashley pictured Stormfront, weighed the pros and cons, did a cost-benefit analysis, and buried her face in her hands before she told him, "Pay for both. One that doesn't match now until the one that does match comes in." The company's paying out the ass, not me, so who gives a shit?

"You're just lucky that wasn't a load-bearing pillar. If it was, we'd have to brace it and evacuate the floors above until we could get a temporary replacement installed. And that would cost you even more."

"Yeah." She pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Did you look at the ceiling?"

"What?" Ashley looked up and discovered she could see the ceiling of Stormfront's bathroom upstairs.

"So you got damage to the ceiling and the floor upstairs will need work, and that'll cost you. Do you know what kind of tile was installed?"

"Not offhand. That was done before I came to work here."

"Original installation when the building was put up? Ma'am, you'll be lucky if the company that did the work still exists. And we need to check the wiring and the pipes, although if any of the pipes had burst we'd already know about it by now. Last thing you need in a building like this is an electrical fire."

Oh, I think that's exactly what I need. I could fake my own damn death and escape to a beach house somewhere, with Mai Tais and twenty percent interest on a few numbered Swiss bank accounts.

"And you saw the damage to the windows, right? Not just the glass—you're going to need to have the frames replaced, and it's gonna cost you."

"The entire wall of windows."

"Yup."

"Better and better." Ashley cursed Homelander's dick.

"How soon you want all this done? I know the lady on the phone said ASAP, but I have to tell you—"

"It's gonna cost me." Ashley finished for him.

"Yeah, and I haven't even looked at the upstairs yet. Is there any work up there that needs doing?"

"I couldn't tell you. This is the first time I've seen any of this and the hero who lives here wasn't very specific."

"Is it Homelander?" The contractor's eyes lit up.

"No. One of the women."

"Look, I know you're probably not supposed to tell me this, but do they ever get up to any weird stuff here? Like kinky?"

Any? Asshole, you're standing at Ground Zero of kink. "Would you knock anything off the price if I told you?"

He looked regretful. "No can do, ma'am. You're already getting rock-bottom prices."

"Then the only thing I'm going to tell you is that if Homelander had a dick sticking out of him for every time he's stuck it in some poor unfortunate woman, he'd look like two porcupines fucking."

His eyes lit up again. "Cool! But—"

"I know, I know. It's still gonna cost me." Fuck you Stormfront, and fuck you Homelander, and may you both be fucked up your respective asses by a pillar of Carrara marble. Which will cost you.