Cookies Comics and Revenge

By Lejindarybunny

A/N: My father, the vile man that he is, disallowed me from typing today. So, I couldn't get a whole chapter done. So I am breaking this chapter up into two parts.

Disclaimer: Blah blah blah, read the disclaimer in a previous chapter.

Chapter 13 part one: Suprises

Vex and Maurice were having crapes and coffee when the woman bustled in the door again. "Monsieur Maurice, il y a un homme ici pour la fille."

The Frenchman smiled, setting down his cup, "Ah, so, le garçon 'as returned," he stood up. "Come, ma cherie, and I will 'ave work begun on your costume."

Vex nodded and followed Maurice out of the office, and down into the main hall. Syndrome was indeed waiting for them. He was leaning against the wall looking utterly bored, his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. She wondered what he had been doing the whole time that she had been at the shop, noticing that he had a rather large box sitting on the floor beside him.

"Hey," he greeted, tipping the shades down and grinning at her. "Have fun?"

She nodded. "Maurice is a very charming host."

"Ah, merci. Mademoiselle," the designer thanked her.

Syndrome rolled his eyes. "So, when'll the outfit be ready?"

"You may pick it up zis evening, of course. It will be ready by eight, oui?"

"Good," he nodded. "Oh, hey, can Vex use one of your changing rooms?"

"Mais, oui."

Vex looked at him, and down to the box. "What for?" she asked.

"Well, I figured you'd want a change of clothes before we went out," he said, "So I took the liberty of getting you one."

Vex blushed. "You didn't have to do that."

"Sure I did. Unless you don't want it."

"Oh, I didn't mean that at all," she said, embarrassed again. She kept inadvertently irritating him when it came to money and gifts. It was natural though, no one had ever gone around just giving her things for no reason, especially not things as expensive as Syndrome seemed prone to. "Is it in the box?"

He nodded.

She walked over, a bit intimidated. It sounded like he was in a kind of a bad mood. Had anything happened while they'd been apart? She looked down at the box, wrapped in whit paper, and up at the man in the dark coat and glasses. Why should she be afraid to get near him? After all, he had come for her. So what if it would be complicated? She had run away from home with a man she had known for twenty minutes. If that didn't complicate her life, what could?

"Thank you," she said with a smile, and grabbed him into a hug, and, on further impulse, kissed him quickly on the cheek. Or at least she tried to, Syndrome turned his head at the last moment, and she ended up brushing against his lips instead, but just for a moment. He smirked at her and she picked up the box, once again surprised, and gratified. "Where's the changing room, Maurice?"

"Right zis way, mademoiselle," he said, winking at her as he led her down the hall, and added, "My compliments."

She giggled.

She at on the bench in the large changing room, set down the box, and began to take the wrapping off delicately. She slipped the top off, and inspected the new garments. She gasped. They were absolutely beautiful, and exactly something that she'd want to wear. She hurried peeled her old, worn clothes off, and put on the new ones. There were even shoes and jewelry to go with it! She looked at herself in the mirror, and felt almost like a different person. So glamorous and grown up, but beneath the clothing she was still herself. Like a child pretending to be a princess.

Two days ago she'd been just another girl in high school, with no friends, and too much homework. Just a fangirl who was constantly being told by her parents to focus on reality. Now here she was, like some kind of dark Cinderella.

It wasn't a dream though. Everything she did had real consequences.

Her parents, they would be grieving, searching frantically for their lost daughter. The teachers would say it was such a shame, such a waste. And Mikhail wouldn't ever do anything again.

She wouldn't go back. Couldn't possibly. Sharon Mitchell might as well be dead, and Vex would fight like hell if she had to, to keep it that way.

She stared deep into the mirror's eyes, and laid a hand to the image.

She didn't expect it to pass through.

Vex screamed.

000

Syndrome was waiting impatiently for Vex to get back, so they could leave. He glanced over at where Maurice was standing, which the Frenchman seemed to take as a cue to start talking.

"Zo, mon garçon," he began, "'ou is she to you, really, eh?"

His head snapped up, and he frowned at the designer, irritated that his business was being intruded upon. "I told you, she's my lieutenant," he snapped.

"Oui? You 'ave no other interest in 'er whatsoever?" Maurice raised his eyebrows. "Zat is not what I saw just now."

"It's none of your concern," Syndrome glared at him.

He leered. "Your welfare 'as been my concern, mon petit garcon, since you stepped into my shop, years ago. You are lucky I don not take such obligations more seriously, non?"

The redhead grimaced uncomfortably. He knew that Maurice had a 'thing' for him, but the Frenchman usually kept it more satisfactorily discreet, in open conversation.

"You took zat girl from her home like some sort of thief in ze night," he continued, "And now she eez, understandably, in love with you. Zo, you 'ad bettair act like a man, rather than a child in ze body of one."

Syndrome was taken aback by the small man's rude comments, and blunt attitude. How dare someone like Maurice, insult his masculinity!

The man must have seen Syndrome's expression twisting into dangerous anger, for he held his hands up submissively. "Forgive me. I should not say such things."

"Damn right," he snarled, relaxing only slightly.

"I undairstand zat you are 'estitant after ze end of such a bad relationship."

So, Vex had been gossiping, it sounded like. Well, it wasn't exactly a secret that Mirage had betrayed him, it had been all over the news.

"But to punish one woman for ze crimes of another is a terrible thing. And zat is all I will say," Maurice concluded.

Syndrome adjusted his glasses nervously. Had she told Maurice about Mikhail? Was this what the discussion was about? Syndrome didn't think it sounded that specific, though, just Maurice harping on him in general.

"What did you and Vex talk abo-" Syndrome's quarry was cut off by a piercing scream.

"Vex?" Syndrome's eyes went wide, and he dashed in the direction of the cry. He came to a locked door that he knew to be the changing room. He pounded on it. "Vex, are you alright?!"

"I-I'm fine, Syndrome," her voice came from behind the door. "There was a spider, and I freaked. Sorry."

Syndrome rolled his eyes, and hung his head back in annoyed relief. "Its fine," he grumped. What had he been worried for anyway? There wasn't anything that could hurt her in the shop, after all.

"I'm glad you came though," she said. "I'm done changing."

The door opened, and Vex stood in it. She looked startlingly pretty; the black skirt hung over her hips so, and the blue sweater was stretched alluringly across her chest. The silver mesh and black shawl gave her a mysterious, sophisticated air, and the boots added about and inch to her height. Syndrome just...stared.

"Do I look okay?" she asked insecurely.

The villain found his voice. "Beautiful," he said, grinning at her. "Stunning in fact."

"You really think so?" she turned around, looking back at herself in the mirror.

"I know it," he said, grabbing her wrist, and pulling her back to him. He had been planning on kissing her, but something more urgent caught his attention as he saw her hand. "You're bleeding!"

She looked startled. "I am? I don't know how that happened. I...must have given myself a paper cut on the wrapping paper."

He pulled her close to him, both facing the same direction, and kissed her fingers where the blood was already drying. "Some paper cut," he said, observing the amount of blood.

"Yeah," she breathed, nuzzling up against him, "I should rinse it off."

He looked down at the top of her head, and caressed the locks of her brown hair. "In a minute." He turned her around. He had been planning on waiting until after dinner to ask, but now was so much more convenient, and he didn't have the patience to wait. He looked her in the eyes. "Tell me, Vex, you're honest opinion of me."

He was afraid of how she'd answer. Worried she'd say 'You're a great boss', or 'friend' or any number of things he was not hoping to hear.

"I told you before," she breathed. "Cunning, imaginative, audacious, decisive...But I didn't say how much I like you...or how handsome you are." She leaned up, and kissed him. Not a kiss on the cheek either, but the way that he had kissed her before.

"Ehehehem," Maurice coughed a moment later, surprising both of them with his presence. "I am very 'appy pou ze two of you, but I do 'ave ladies waiting to use zis room."

"Oh! Sorry," Vex said hurriedly disentangling herself from Syndrome, much as he was unwilling to let go of her, and heading to the washroom.

To Be Continued...