Dictation
I don't own Creed. That pleasure/pain belongs to Marvel Entertainment, Inc. and Fox Entertainment, (and now perhaps to Seed Productions from the latest rumors about the new Wolverine Movie).
A/N Ok at one point I realized that Victor Creed has to have some way of laundering all that money he makes on illegal assassination and terrorism, and since the comics have him shown in a more traditional business environment on several occasions, I wondered how he would deal with a Temp. As far as I know Creed Industries doesn't exist in the Marvel Universe but I think it should.
Chapter 6
"Why am I worried?" She said for the fifth time as she struggled into the dress. She was going to have to ask for help with the zipper, her shoes pinched, but they were the only green dress shoes she could find, and they were borrowed from Jubilee. He would have chosen the most difficult dress to get into – he hated her – he had to.
There was a knock on the ladies' room door.
"Are you alright in there?" It was Varden.
"I'm fine but could you be a doll and zip the back of the dress for me." He tentatively pushed open the door. "There's no one in here but me, silly."
He zipped the dress, which helped with trying to pull herself together - now for hair and makeup.
"He needs help with his tie when you are ready – I never learned how to tie one."
She groaned. She tried to remember. She hadn't tied a bow tie since her sister's wedding.
"Tell him I'll be out in a minute." She said. She transferred her ID, some cash for an emergency, her lipstick and powder into the green evening bag that Jubilee insisted matched the shoes. Her hair was twisted into a French knot with the loose strands damp curled around her finger. She hoped it would do – it was the best she could do. She groaned one more time as she slipped on the shoes, and walked out of the bathroom, her regular purse tucked in the overnight bag and stashed under her desk.
"TILLMAN!"
"Well at least he remembers my name, now." She groaned to Varden.
He was just staring at her.
"Earth to Varden – come in Varden."
"Sorry – just – WOW!" She didn't understand men sometimes, she really didn't.
"Took you long….WOW!" He stopped dead in his tracks.
"I don't know what's wrong with either of you." She said, walking up to him and grabbing the ends of his tie. "Hold still." Without Jubilee's shoes she would have needed a chair, or gotten a crick in her neck.
She was getting a bit heated by the way he was looking at her. She wasn't about to let down her shields. Knowing what Victor Creed was feeling wasn't on her list of things to do at the moment.
"So – at midnight you turn back into a pumpkin?"
"Very funny – can we get on with this? These shoes hurt."
"Grouch."
"You try wearing shoes that pinch your toes – just to 'keep the sharks at bay' – and see how good a mood you are in." She said.
"I apologized for lunch."
She just shook her head. He growled and then grabbed his jacket. She had gotten used to him in business attire, but he certainly looked nice in the tux. He had his hair slicked back and tied with a carved leather holder at the base of his neck. He was freshly shaved and trimmed – even his famous eyebrows were trimmed to a normal length. His white shirt had black onyx button covers and cufflinks. Ok – he looked better than nice. Where the hell was Sabretooth?
"You ready?"
"I guess."
"Wait – almost forgot something." He pulled a box out of his jacket pocket.
"This should go with the dress – its just a loan – I didn't figure you had anything like it." She opened the box, inside was a silk corded ribbon with a carved jade figure hanging from it, and matching earrings. He lifted the ribbon and turned her away from him. He dropped the cord over her neck and tied the back so that the figure hung right below the V of her collar bone. She slipped the earrings in, and he fastened the bracelet.
"They belonged to Cixi."
"Who?"
"Empress Dowager Cixi. The last Empress of China – if anyone asks. They were given as a gift to an artist, well I ended up with them – don't worry about how."
"Oh." Well if you had to go to a thousand dollar a plate fund raiser with your boss, who was a known assassin and murderer – might as well be wearing Imperial jewels. The girls would never believe this.
He held out his arm and she took it. Varden was grinning when they walked out of his office.
"Is there anything you need me for, sir?" He asked.
"Not tonight."
"Will you be returning to the office, or should I take your suit to the condo."
"Take it to the condo."
"What should I do with my bag?" She asked.
"Varden – drop it by her apartment, I'll drop her off after the event."
"The limo is waiting."
"Why are we taking a limo for a couple blocks?"
"'Cuz it looks good."
"Whatever."
At least they weren't walking – which made her feet happy. Of course the museum was packed – people she had only heard of in the papers were there, Tony Stark, Matt Murdock, and Wilson Fisk, just to name a few. She stayed close to Victor. She wasn't comfortable in this type of crowd at all.
"Bronwyn, how nice to see you again." She heard Professor Xavier behind her.
"You too, Professor." She managed to say, blushing to the roots of her hair. She was standing there on Sabretooth's arm chatting with Professor X. This was going to be a strange evening.
"Have you given any further thought to my offer, Victor?"
"No – I gave you my answer. I don't do teams, besides – I have a company to run, so I am a little busy at the moment."
"Ahh – yes, Creed Enterprises – I was surprised to hear you would be here this evening. You don't usually do events like this."
"My board of directors thought it would be a good idea."
"YOU answer to a board."
"Only when I want to."
The Professor gave her a knowing look. "I see."
She blushed again. Now the whole city would think she was sleeping with him, damn it.
"Mr. Creed, do you know where we are sitting, my shoes are killing me." She said.
"Table ten – and I told ya ta call me Victor."
"Sorry. Professor – nice seeing you." She slipped over to the table and found his seats. She had only been half lying – her feet were killing her. She moaned as she sat down and took the weight off of them.
"Hey – Bron – thought I would say hi before we sat down." Kitty bounced up. Bronwyn was stunned – she looked great – not her usual bookish self. She was with a young man, someone Bronwyn didn't know.
"Bron – this is Peter, Peter this is my friend Bronwyn."
"Nice to meet you – Kitty we really need to sit…is that VICTOR CREED!" He said in a hiss.
"Yes – he's my boss."
"And her date tonight."
"KITTY!"
"Hello, Parker." Victor said as he sat down next to her.
"Creed – Come on Kitty, let's go." He grabbed her arm and dragged her away.
"That's why I hate coming to these things. Too many people know who I am." He grumbled. "At least we don't have to stay all evening – just until the presentations are over."
"Yes Mr. Creed."
"Victor." He growled.
She just glared at him. People were finding their seats, they were at a table that seated four couples, and she didn't know any of the people they were sitting with. There were two older men, and their wives and a younger couple who kept casting glances at her. She just wanted to sink into the floor. It was bad enough she kept catching Mr. Creed glancing at her regularly, and with a look that tempted her to drop her shields just to know what the HELL was going through his mind. It was possessive and predatory at the same time – a look to be very afraid of. The lights dimmed, and the Keynote speaker was introduced – she groaned – it was Emma Frost of Frost Industries.
This was going to be a long night.
Dinner was served – and she was pleasantly surprised. They must have hired a premier chef for this event, even Vic – MR CREED – seemed to be enjoying his dinner.
This had to stop – he was her boss for crying out loud – not a DATE!
The waiter kept filling their glasses and she lost track of exactly how much she was drinking. It was good wine – she knew that, but she wasn't feeling any effects – yet. They announced that the Jurassic room had been set up for dancing. She just wanted to go home.
"Care to dance." He asked.
"Do I have to?"
"Yes, Miss Tillman – you have to dance at least one dance with me." He glared.
She glared back but took his hand. She let him lead her onto the dance floor, and tried to concentrate on the people around her – not on her flushed face – she hoped from the wine – or the feel of his hand at her waist. She could feel bits and pieces coming through her shields – and it was definitely base and raw and purely animalistic.
"This isn't a good idea." She said finally.
"Why not?" He leaned down and whispered to her.
"My shields don't hold up well under alcohol – and I am getting a major headache – not to mention my feet are killing me." She hoped that would settle him down. Keep it cool – professional – and as impersonal as she could.
"Shields I can't help you with – headache – well I think we can track down some aspirin, and why the HELL did you wear the shoes if they hurt?"
"They matched the dress YOU picked out." She hissed.
"All you had to do was tell me you didn't like the dress." He hissed back.
"Fine – I hate the dress, it's uncomfortable, it pinches, and the shoes are killing me."
"Grouch."
"I didn't want to be here in the first place – certainly not with you – and now half the damned city is going to think we are sleeping together, thank you very much."
"Whoa – where the hell did that come from?"
"The way people are looking at us – have been all night, the things I am picking up through my shields."
"Well – I did ask you to come because I didn't want to deal with all the damned gold diggers trying to get their fingers in my pockets." He grinned.
"So you have to let people think you are schtuping the secretary?" She hissed – and immediately regretted it.
"Maybe this was a bad idea." He glared.
He led her off the dance floor and back to their table.
She was quiet the rest of the evening. Her head was pounding, her feet aching – and now she had pissed off her boss – things weren't looking good at all.
Finally he escorted her to the limo and she climbed in. She swallowed a moan when he climbed in with her.
"Circle the park." He told the driver, and put up the privacy window.
"NOW then…" He grabbed her arm and pulled her against him. "What was that about schtuping the secretary?" He hissed before kissing her. Her head was spinning from the alcohol – and the emotional backlash she was getting from him – anger, passion, and need – regret. She pushed against him.
"Let go of me."
"Why – the whole damned city is thinking it – can't disappoint them. It's what they want." He growled.
His arms were crushing her against his chest. She wanted to relax against him – she felt safe – with Sabretooth – she felt safe. He was trying to seduce her and she felt safe, damn it. She didn't want to feel safe with him – didn't want to feel secure in his arms – against his broad chest. She wanted things the way they had been. He was the bad guy for crying out loud – not the safe guy.
"It's not what I want." She said finally as she pushed against him.
"That's never stopped me before." He growled, one hand cupping her backside as he pulled her closer against him. She stifled a moan – damn him. She wasn't going to be manhandled by her boss.
"Fine – I quit." She hissed against his mouth as he leaned in to kiss her again.
"WHAT!" He roared
"I am not going to put up with this." She looked into his eyes – they were black with passion and anger.
"YOU can't QUIT!" He roared again.
"Like hell I can't." She shouted.
"I need you." He said – his tone almost pleading.
"I'm not some whore that looks pretty on the front desk." She ground out at him.
"I KNOW THAT! I need you – professionally. You are the one having an issue with the whole image thing."
"I'm confused."
"Do you honestly think I haven't considered just fucking you in my office?" His blunt statement shocked her enough to listen.
"It hadn't crossed my mind."
"It's crossed mine – a lot."
"Oh. So what stopped you?" She snapped.
"YOU!"
"What?"
"You are good at what you do – better than good – and I think if I did try anything I wouldn't just lose you but Varden too. He likes you – respects you – and I couldn't get by with both of you gone. I am TRYING to go legit – TRYING to get out of this damned rat race mutant shit, and you two keep me professional – keep me grounded – keep me – well – HUMAN damn it."
"Oh." Suddenly she felt very sheepish – and very awkward pressed against his chest. He let her go and she moved to the other side of the car.
"So now what?"
"Now I drop you off at your apartment – and go home alone. I'm not going to forget what's happened – and neither will you. It'll keep us honest. I know I want you – now you know it. But I also know I need you – and not that way. That need is more important to me – you are more important to me – to my goals – than just sex. I can deal with it, can you?"
"I don't know." She said, honestly.
"Will you be in the office, Monday?" He asked.
"Of course – I need the job."
"You are funny – you know that. You could be – mine. Never have to worry about work – or money – or anything but me again."
"No thanks – I like what I do – what I am. I couldn't get by without working. I need it, and frankly you are too high maintenance for a relationship – I'd go nuts."
"OUCH! I'm high maintenance?"
"Hell yes – you are a VERY high maintenance boss, I imagine you are WORSE with the women you sleep with."
"Damn – you are probably right." He grinned at her, and she smiled back. Somehow they had reached an understanding. He was her BOSS, and it was going to stay that way – because that was how they both wanted things. He rolled down the window and gave the driver her address.
Logan was sitting on the steps of the building when they pulled up. She just climbed out of the limo and glared at him, cigar smoke curling around his head.
"Jubes was worried – Kitty called." Was all he said.
"Everything is fine." She said as she passed him on the steps.
"It better be." He stood up and walked over to the limo. She heard low male voices for a moment and then Mr. Creed shout.
"DAMN it RUNT! She's the best damn secretary I have ever had – good enough that even I'm not stupid enough to fuck it up – especially not over a piece of ass."
She smiled and opened the door to the building. She had a job for as long as she wanted it – and people she didn't mind working with – or for. Her friends would just have to learn to deal.