Masquerade Lovers
---
Desire
---
Tim Scam was very clever. Being a former WOOHP agent and a Physics' whiz (who do you think came up with all the security systems at WOOHP? Granted, it was a modification of his work but the underlying principles were the same), he had picked the perfect timing to break out of his WOOHP cell. It hadn't been that easy, since there were security cameras involved, monitoring his every move in his 6 by 6 cell, but he made it. He admitted, however, security hadn't been that tight, because he managed to hack the systems more easily than usual. But that had been the point, because there was less trouble. He knew the other members of LAMOS would be able to make their way out. They would meet in six days, and then plot their next move.
Of course, he knew about the masquerade Jerry had organized and hence he decided to escape at this time. While security was still as vigilant as ever, it simply wasn't enough to capture him. He managed to ditch his orange prison clothes easily, because there were lots of costumes lying around, and all he did was break in into one of the offices and steal a costume. The particular one he broke in was a costume of a domino which was popular for masquerades during the Regency era. Literally. But that was okay with him. As long as he didn't get captured –
He was about to leave the building, when he remembered that it was a Masquerade. Meaning, he could crash the party, and no one would no it was him.
Meaning, he could annihilate WOOHP from the inside, and never be caught.
He snickered. WOOHP could be so lax sometimes, and that would be its downfall.
However, he would have to take them out one at a time. Although, he really didn't feel like getting the clothes dirty. The domino outfit was expensive, and he felt bad for the guy who'd be missing his outfit.
No, he just wanted to get rid of the spies. And Jerry. An action just enough to shake up WOOHP so that it would be paralyzed and wouldn't be able to fight back against his next plan.
But he'd have to wait until the party cleared, before he could make his move. Right now, in a hall full of agents, he'd be shipped back to a prison cell before he could pull anything off. He took note of the position of the spies, though. The annoying, vain blonde (Clover), was dressed as a princess (honestly, that made him want to gag – although he tried to contain himself). The brunette (Alexandra) was dressed as a belly dancer/Arabian princess/someone who belonged in a harem, and was next to them was the redhead (Samantha), dressed as a nymph. She looked different somehow.
He knew he couldn't be sure, because there were so many blonde, red-haired and brunette girls, and besides, it was a freaking masquerade. But come on, the blonde was definitely Clover, and the trio would always stick together, right?
He'd have to bide his time. Seeing nothing else to do, he went up to the roof (where he knew the cameras would be turned off during this time, as the roof only led to the hall, and you couldn't get to any important person's office unless you jumped off the building to your doom. Besides, the roof was too darned conspicuous). He saw the bright moon, so close and opaque. It seemed to permeate his being, and he felt one with the night. For a minute he wondered (a lapse in thought, which he then, with anger, categorized as a weakness and locked it away in his subconscious) whether the myth was true, that during a full moon, one might find one's deepest desires.
But that was impossible. He wanted love, but WOOHP had effectively destroyed any chances of that when he was branded a criminal. Hence, he had considered love and any of the more tender emotions as weakness, which he had purged from his system, and made him a little of a sociopath. Not that he minded. As long as he was able to destroy WOOHP for what they did to him, he wouldn't care what happened to him –
And he wanted Tara to live again –
He wasn't alone, he realized, as he heard a female voice. It was so melodious, yet – familiar. She must have been one of those agents who'd been around when he worked, who he'd known during the tenure at WOOHP.
Whoever it was, she must have bloomed during the years he'd been gone from WOOHP. Even when he was Mac Smit, he hadn't come across many WOOHP agents, seeing as WOOHP was divided into different teams which hardly interacted with each other.
She was dressed all in white, like an angel. Her red hair was shoulder-length or thereabouts, and she was gazing at the moon.
"A night like this could encourage moon madness," she mused, more to herself than anyone.
And it was moon-madness, for it seemed that his body had a will of its own, and he drew closer to her, just to see the face of the woman. She was beautiful, for sure, and he wanted to he closer to her. To touch her, for she might slip away into the air, as if no more corporeal than a figment of his imagination.
He answered her with a stupid statement, he was sure of it. The female turned around, and while Tim had hoped she was unmasked, it was unfortunate that she was. Yet, she looked, even as her features were hidden from him, extremely beautiful. No WOOHP agent could look this beautiful. He assumed she was a relative to one of the agents, or even the darned spies, for that matter; most possibly the red-haired Samantha, as their hair color were both the same.
It didn't matter. She was beautiful, and he didn't care who she was, or who her relatives were.
She trembled, and he was gratified to see that she, too, felt as vulnerable as he knew he must have been feeling inside. Only years of hiding his emotions made him able to maintain his somewhat stoic expression, and even that seemed to be cracking as she replied to his parallels of each other with Dante and Beatrice, Eros and Psyche. He managed a smile. Little by little, Tim Scam lost everything that he'd fashioned himself to be after he was removed from WOOHP and begin to become almost human again. He began to remember what it felt to desire something, as a human would, and he remembered how beautiful and tempting a woman's figure could be.
And she was all woman.
He knew he was goading her, goading her into a situation which she was possibly not ready for. Sighing, he knew he could not have such a rendezvous with this woman. She was hesitant, and he did not want to rob her of that innocent, almost naïve look on her face. It told him she was an innocent to love, even though she may have fancied herself in love before. But otherwise, she was completely inexperienced in real, passionate love, the way he suddenly felt for her tonight. He sat down, content to converse with the woman in as normal a way as possible. It may not have turned out to be complete moon madness after all. And there was no reason why after learning about each other, they could not remain as friends. She was intelligent and wise for her years. And keep in contact in the future. As friends, of course.
And perhaps something more. But Tim dismissed that as moon-madness, just as she said.
Yet their conversations skirted around their true identities. Tim suspected that the masks had something to do with it. They each wanted to preserve their anonymity, for who was to know that the other might not like the person underneath the masks.
He did not know how, but suddenly, in the quiet of the night, when they were both done talking and the air was silent, heavy upon him, Tim threw discretion to the wind. Her hand, so delicate and white, had somehow managed to find itself into his larger, tanned one. At that moment, Tim felt like a Beast. The woman in front of him, sitting next to him on the bench was so trusting, so naïve – he threw discretion to the wind and took her in his arms – her delicate figure in his arms – and kissed her, passionately.
She stiffened, and sagged against his body, allowing the kiss to deepen. To Tim, it lasted for an eternity and yet it was not long enough. He wanted more, but he finally drew away, almost afraid to see her reaction.
Her eyes, emerald and green, were wide and showed her shock, her lips were slightly parted, swollen and red, and her chest was heaving, as she gasped for breath. He was, for a moment, afraid that she would rebuke him for his invasion, but it didn't come.
"I have never done this before," she said. He knew that. Suddenly he felt like holding her close and crying. He was sure at that moment she was no WOOHP agent, for he knew that as everyone associated with that organization or any other worldwide or state organization, for that matter, who knew of him (except for villains, who merely wanted to use his immense knowledge for their own gain) would have spurned his attentions. Instead, a grim smile, which he hoped did not betray his sadness, accompanied his words, as he lowered down for another kiss: "Whoever you are, if you knew who I was, I doubt you would do anything of this sort with me."
She did not protest, but she let out a small moan as he kissed her. He was gentle, afraid she would break and draw back, but she did neither, and seemed to welcome his release.
Hell tempted him, he reasoned. He knew after WOOHP had betrayed him, he had turned into a reprehensible being, and nothing before mattered anymore. Not how kind he had been nor how good he had been, because now he was neither. Yet could it be that he was showing so much compassion to a woman he barely knew? She had to be a virago to get under his skin as she did.
Yet, the woman in his arms could not have been sent from so fallen a place. She was heaven-sent, but he hoped she was no false Eve. How could she be, so trusting, so naïve?
"Le coeur a ses raisons, que la raison ne connaît point."
He found it strange that this one woman, of all nights, tonight, had worked into him a feeling of compassion and care so deep that had he not been more naïve, he would have called it love.
"The heart has its own logic which no logician will ever comprehend."
Damn Pascal for being right.
Her beautiful white dress, the material flimsy under his hands, slipped off easily under his touch.
Hell tempted me.
And he knew he was just another man.
---
Author's Note
---
Yes! It was Scam! This chapter tells his POV.
At first sight, you guys might dismiss this as a filler chapter, but really, it's pretty important. The more astute among you will be wondering:
"Who's Tara?"
But that's another story (or two) for another chapter (or two) for another day (or more). Hope you enjoyed it! :) I know it was pretty risqué (remember, I do not particularly condone premarital sex), but after all that love and lust, it only seemed natural?
And as for any OOCness, well, blame it on moon-madness.
And it's going to get darker and less humorous come the following chapters. I warned you.
lianneharmony
---
References
---
From Scam's point of view, so pretty much the same thing, although Hell Tempted Me was the title of a fanfic that I ripped off this site (it was a Powerpuff Girls fandom that I read the said fanfic) Pretty fitting, isn't it?
Blaise Pascal is love. Have you heard of the Pascal triangle? Who knew that a mathematician could be a romantic? I just had to refer to the quotes again!
Scam thinking of himself as a Beast, of course, is tied to parallels with Beauty and the Beast. Obviously, his anonymous girl was the Beauty. :P
---
Shoutouts
---
Cresenta's Lark, BloodyRen, Redheaded Devil and Poison's Ivy have my everlasting gratitude with all their lovely reviews.
Beth is awesome because she reviewed and caught out a small (okay, it was huge) mistake I had made. I have since corrected it! Thanks a lot! :D