Title: Dinner for Three

A/N: For the Rabbit, Rabbit Mirko zine! I love her so much, ahhh, and want more of her and Hawks interacting (and probably annoying the shit out of Endeavor)

Summary: Mirko had been to a lot of dinners, but nothing like the one she was having right now with Endeavor and Hawks. Between the former's guilt and the latter's self-hate, she'd been to better funerals.

…

…

…

…

Mirko had been to a lot of dinners. It came part and parcel with the job—fundraising galas, retirement parties, celebratory meals after a mission well done, she'd had them all. So it was utter confidence that she knew that she'd been to funerals that were more cheerful than the night out she was having. Who could have known that have drinks with the number one and former number two hero was going to be this depressing?

Then again, she hadn't really expected a riot from Endeavor. He was only comical in the accidental ways, like how his giant frame hunched over to fit into his seat in this crowded bar. They'd even picked a corner seat for all three of them, somewhere he could spread his legs a bit, and still he looked ridiculously big, like an adult sitting on a child's chair. His serious expression only made it worse.

No, the one that Mirko had some hope for had been Hawks. She glanced at the man seated to her right. His usually wild hair was gone, leaving him with what looked like baby chick fuzz. A perpetual smile graced his lips and she was used to it being the only warning before he gave one quip or another. Yet there were none of his usual light jokes, nothing to keep the mood going tonight. No, instead Hawks was more interested in finding the bottom of his beer bottle than anything else.

Though, that was starting to look more and more appealing by the moment. When she had thought of celebrating the end of her physiotherapy or even the modest success of Shigaraki not destroying everything known to man, this hadn't been what she'd imagined at all. Maybe getting drunk was the only way to get through this meal.

Endeavor looked at her strangely and Mirko raised a brow. Before she could ask, he frowned and asked, "You've been to better funerals?"

"Huh?" Mirko's eyes widened. Had she accidentally said that aloud?

Unperturbed, Hawks laughed. It was rougher than usual, almost gravelly, and she wasn't sure if it was because his vocal cords were also singed or if his new defeatist attitude was even affecting his body now. "What funeral was this? I missed out."

Mirko clenched her teeth. At this point, she might as well commit. If these two bozos wanted to act weird, they could do it on their own time. "Yeah, I have. Even All Might's retirement was more cheerful than," she gestured at their table, "whatever this crap is."

Hawks snorted, not all ashamed. She should have known he wouldn't be. Taking another swig, he shrugged. "Well, this is our retirement, so I guess it's on par. Glad to know I've beaten All Might at something at least."

"Retirement?" Maybe her ears were more damaged than she'd thought.

"That…" Endeavor slouched slightly, an action that somehow made him look even more comical. Even his constant flames looked dimmer than usual. Regret coloured his voice as he slowly replied, "I owe you both for your sacrifices in this matter and I know that meal cannot make up for any of that—"

"It's not something you owe me for," Mirko retorted immediately.

"Hey, it's not like we'll get thanked otherwise. Well, me at least. You'll get thanked plenty." Hawks laughed self-deprecatingly. He looked smaller without his wings. "Sure, it's not a fancy retirement watch, but I'd rather have the drinks anyways."

"Are you serious?" Mirko growled, the last of her restraint snapping. It was a miracle she hadn't punched either of them till now.

"What?" Hawks shot her confused look, stopping before he signaled the waiter. "You'd rather have the watch?"

The spoon in her hand snapped and it looked like she was going to have to pay for damages. Again. Teeth bared, she growled, "What do you mean, retirement? You want to quit? Speak for yourself!"

"What?" Hawk's jaw dropped. "Are you serious? After all of this?" He gestured at her prosthetic legs, at his burned head. At the scars and mangled limbs they'd earned after the raid. "You're barely able to walk, let alone run."

"I don't see anything that's stopping me," she replied, her lip curling in challenge. Leaning forward, she sneered, "What, you telling me you can't do anything without those wings of yours?"

For once, Hawks was stunned speechless, and she felt an irrational amount of pride at that. Endeavor, on the other hand, gave her an approving nod. Relief flooded his voice. "That's good."

Immediately, her blood boiled over again. The gall of him to feel relieved! What was it with top heroes and their smug confidence that if something went wrong, it was their fault? All Might had been equally as annoying and Mirko was going to stop this right here, right now. "I'm not doing this for you!" she snarled, turning her ire to him now. "Cut the crap with all of this guilt shit, this is just what a hero does."

Startled, Endeavor blinked at her owlishly. "I…"

"I should have known this would happen." Mirko leaned forward and snatched the beer out of Hawks' fingers. Finishing it in three large gulps, she slammed the bottle on the table. It was time she taught these top assholes a thing or two. Standing up, she growled, "The fu—"

"FREEZE! THIS IS A STICK UP!"

A woman screamed. Slowly, Mirko turned to the front, where six masked thieves burst into the bar, each of them holding guns. One of them was pointed as the cashier, the rest of them pointed at the guests. Around them, people cowered in their seats in various states of terror. Mirko twitched. "Are. You. Kidding. Me."

Hawks whistled, turning to Endeavor with a smirk. "Attacking the place you're having dinner. They're not taking you seriously at all, huh, Mr. Number One?"

Immediately Endeavor's flames shot up and Mirko leaned away before she got roasted. "I'll be back."

The second those words left his mouth, he was out of his seat and flying at the wannabe thieves. In mere seconds, he incapacitated two of them, his thick arms wrapping around them and knocking them against each other so hard that they knocked each other out.

Mirko didn't stare for long before kicking into gear. Her legs were slower than she'd like, unable to keep up with her reflexes. Shoving away her chair, she dashed forward before someone grabbed her hand, jerking her backward. Whipping her head around, she glared at Hawk and his offending grip. "What?"

He wilted slightly at her glare, though she wasn't sure if that was another joke. "Scary!" Not letting go, he gestured at Endeavor who was dropping the two robbers and rounding onto the third. "He can handle this without us. You'll only get in the way."

"Again, speak for yourself moron." Mirko yanked her hand away, not wasting even a second on his words. "Some of us are heroes."

Pushing down on her prosthetics harder than her doctors would have liked, Mirko bounded toward the front. Endeavor had grabbed the third thief, leaving the other three for her. Those were the odds she liked. "Who's first?"

"What the?" Startled, the closest thief aimed his gun. His neatly trimmed black bangs looked like they covered his eyes, but maybe he didn't need to see to use his quirk. He fired two bullets in rapid succession. "Stay back!"

"That the best you got?" she goaded as she nimbly dodged the bullets. Sure, her legs were slower than they used to be, but they were still more than enough to defeat a total amateur's reflexes. Closer now, she leapt onto a table, knocking over a vase onto a man's lap.

"Weren't you in rehab?" Another robber gawked, confused.

"Not anymore!" A plate cracked under her foot as she somersaulted forward. Her left leg hit the first robber with a hammer-like strength, knocking him to the ground. Her prosthetic shattered from the force. Well, she had wanted to replace the damned thing anyways, it wasn't designed for combat at all. Mirko stumbled as she landed, falling forward.

"I'll get you for that!" the other robber shouted. She pulled out a set of knives, tossing them at Mirko with pinpoint accuracy.

The knives grazed her cheek and ear. Mirko felt the sharp sting of a cut and she licked her lips. "Not if I get you first."

That was the only warning Mirko gave before rolling forward onto her hands. Her right leg swiped at her opponent's knees, knocking her down to Mirko's level. There was a time when Mirko had been fascinated with wrestling and she had never been more grateful than now for that knowledge. Quickly, she wrapped an arm around her opponent's neck, forcing her into a chokehold.

"You," the robber gasped.

"Me," Mirko agreed, tightening her grip until the woman passed out. By now she was certain Endeavor must have finished the last of them.

"Let her go," a cold voice ordered.

Or not. The number one hero was slow today.

Cold steel pressed against Mirko's forehead followed by the click as a gun's safety turned off. Not bothering to loosen her grip, she looked up to see the other end of a barrel. A man stood in front of her, desperation colouring his face. With a smirk, she tightened her chokehold. "What?"

"I'm not kidding!" the man in front of her growled. Whatever intimidation he was hoping for was lost as his voice cracked at the end.

"Neither am I," she replied, tightening her grip again.

The woman gasped before croaking, "Let…go…"

Mirko grinned ferally. "Only if he gives up."

The last robber glared. "Not happen…ing…"

As his voice trailed off, he collapsed, revealing a smirking Hawks behind him. He winked at her. "You looked like you could use the help."

Looked like he remembered who he was and it was about damn time. Mirko was almost willing to overlook the insult. Almost. "Not really."

Letting go of the woman, Mirko rolled over onto her side and pushed herself up to a seated position. By now Endeavor had tied up four of the robbers up, trussing them up like a turkey. That had always been her least favourite part of the job and she was more than willing to let him grab the last two and finish the job.

"Your leg is shattered." Hawks idly observed as he crouched next to her.

Mirko snorted. "Did you lose your eyes as well as your wings?"

"Nah, just…I know a good mechanic." He smiled this time, an oddly honest expression from him. "They can fix you one that'll last a little longer in a fight."

"Is that so?" She raised a brow.

"Might even make you faster," he added, glancing at her right arm. The prosthetic was cracked but still in one piece somehow. "At least you didn't break all your limbs."

It was as close to an apology as she'd get from him and definitely more words than she'd wanted in the first place. Mirko held out her hand, allowing him to pull her up. "You're not on fire, so we're both a step up."

"Literally." He slung her arm around his shoulder, supporting her weight.

It shouldn't have sounded as funny as it had. Mirko laughed.

"What's funny?" Endeavor asked, back with them now. He glanced at her, frowning. "Your leg is broken. I didn't need your help."

"So?" she challenged, her jaw set and shoulders squared. Considering she was only standing because of Hawks, it probably wasn't giving the image that she'd hoped for, but whatever. It was the intent that mattered. And she was certain her expression was more than enough to get that across.

Endeavor stared at her for a long moment. She glared back. Finally, he turned off his flames and looked away. "Our food's getting cold."

"Is that really a problem for you?" Hawks quipped, laughing.

She guffawed. "From number one hero to microwave?"

There was no way to tell if Endeavor really understood her point. Maybe she'd find her patrol routes oddly cleaned by him, find her villains neatly bagged, and the man still giving her guilt-ridden lunches and dinners.

Well, even if that was the case, it was fine. Mirko had plenty of time to beat it into him. Even more so when she finally made it to the top hero spot.