"We are not that desperate," Shigaraki insisted.

They sat around the meeting room in all their various preferred ways. Dabi was of course leaning back, boots propped up on the table, chuckling down at his phone as he texted.

"I dunno, boss. All signs point to us being pretty damn desperate." He glared as his phone screen lit up with another notification. "This damn chicken is insisting on meeting you."

Shigaraki drummed his fingers on the table, only two ever touching at the same time. "Hm. We'll have to think of a task for him to prove himself, something no hero would ever do." The word was spat out like a vulgarity, though for those in this room it was worse.

"You'll consider Dabi's contact, but not mine? That's a smart idea," Twice acknowledged. His own addition was a risk, and he could admit that.

Dabi spun in his leather seat, head tilted back. "D'ya want me to come up with it, or got an idea?" he asked while staring up at the ceiling tiles. He wanted to finish the damn meeting so he could work on his own plans and spend some time with a certain little doll.

Shigaraki hummed. "I'll get back to you on that."

"So are we good to go?"

The younger man waved his hand in acquiescence, and Dabi was on his feet and out the door.

His first task was scrolling through news articles, checking the forums, and delving into social media to see what people were saying about the new Number One. There were mentions of his father's difficulty connecting to people like the Number Two did so easily, and even one where little Shouto was mentioned. Dumb ass kid was following daddy's plan now, down to interning with Endeavor's agency.

The Masterpiece, his perfect heir. What's he gonna do when the family learns the truth, when the world learns the truth. He wanted perfection so bad it killed his own son and created a monster in his place.

He had racked up quite the body count on his way to ruining Endeavor, though he had slowed down a little on that after the raid on the League. Not that he'd given up murder, but it was less important now that his villainy was established.

And while he had the task of seeing if the winged wonder boy was serious about turning traitor, pissing him off at every turn, he also had another way to blow off steam.

"Hey, dollface. How's your day going?"

With the assistance of Kurogiri and a surprisingly capable Twice, they'd rigged it so his girl couldn't escape from the new flat. It had a separate bedroom, but was otherwise not unlike the place she'd had before he took her. They were up too high for her to hope to escape via the windows (which were obscured from the outside lest some hero fly by and see her crying out for help), and the doors all had heavy locks, the keys to which were his alone.

She didn't glance away from her easel as the door swung shut. "Making some progress," Ayumu murmured.

Dabi crossed to kiss the crown of her head, throwing an arm around her as he inspected it. It was a green glass vase with a single flower inside, but through the vase you could see the room, which was warped by the shape of the glass. That was the focus, and there was something slightly unsettling about the view.

"Wow. Wasn't it just some basic colored blobs when I left?"

She snorted. "Well, yeah. That's how these things tend to start."

"You giving me attitude?" Dabi pulled her into him with a feral grin, plucking the brush from her hand.

"Hey! I was using that," Ayumu grumbled.

"And now you aren't," was his smooth response. "C'mon, I wanna play."

He edged her away from the wet paint, leaning down to take in the fresh, warm, sweet scent of her, nipping at the tender skin under her ear.

Ayumu sighed. "I have my period."

Dabi stilled, contemplating options. "We have towels and shit, and you have three holes, not just the one."

"If I'm naked, you might see blood. Are you sure you can handle that?" she asked.

"What the fuck do you think I am, a boy scout? I've seen blood before."

"Please, Dabi." Ayumu laid a hand on his chest. "I always feel like crap the first two days. Can you give me a pass until after that?"

She looked so helpless staring up at him like that, those pretty eyes standing out against the tired circles around them, lips downturned in a pout.

"Tonight is not a good night, Enji," Rei murmured into the leaned against her, providing warmth to her aching tummy. Snuggles were better than a heating pad. "Yes, I will mark the days on the calendar. Alright. Goodbye."

"Fine," he relented. "You're lucky I'm so nice."

Ayumu struggled not to roll her eyes. "Thank you." She rose to kiss his cheek.

He pulled her toward their couch, laying a hand low on her abdomen and rubbing gentle circles.

"Feels nice." She laid her head on his shoulder as he put on some of the shit she liked to watch while he scrolled through more message boards.

Rumors about his father's marriage had always been a thing; it was an open secret that Enji had acquired Rei for her Quirk. It had still taken him four damn tries to get the child he wanted. Shouta had weaknesses as well; Dabi had made careful note of them during the Sports Festival. Powerful, but not perfect.

Who will he make the little runt marry? he wondered. Shouta had both cold and heat himself. What more could he add to the line of Quirks?

His eyes flitted to the woman flush against him. What would Endeavor think of her Quirk? It was theoretically strong enough to be a hero; Aizawa had made a career as an underground hero with the same ability transmitted via eye contact. She was a soft, pretty little thing though, not much of a fighter.

"Fighting requires touching people."

Someone skilled in martial arts could make good use of it though, villain or hero.

He'd probably try to breed her with the kid if he found out about her. It… wasn't a bad idea. A Quirk that had her nullification and heat/cold would theoretically be unbeatable. Sure, there were other aspects of her Quirk, but there was often some logic to them, as though they wanted to work together. What if she had a kid impervious to the negative effects of a Quirk, including their own.

Endeavor was a shit father, but he had eventually gotten what he wanted after three failures. And how much would it hurt the old man to lose his own masterpiece while the monster he created made his own.

"What?"

He'd been staring at Ayumu throughout that line of thought, his hand over her womb gradually putting more pressure into the massage.

Dabi blinked and shook his head. "I was just thinking. I used to do this for my mom, y'know."

"Do what?" Her brows knit.

"This." He stroked at her belly. "I'd lay with her to help with cramps; she has an ice Quirk, so she had enough trouble keeping warm as it was."

Ayumu tipped her head., eyes narrowing a touch as he willingly told her about his family. "An ice Quirk? Not much of that in you, huh?"

"I'm pretty much immune to cold; it never bothered me that my mother was cool to the touch."

"Oh."

She was cute when she wasn't sure how to take something. He wanted to explore the boundaries of his self-imposed sexual limit (short though it may be), and run his tongue over those soft lips. A buzz from his phone interrupted him before he could move.

"Fucking A." The fucking bird was a chatter box via text, as well as television. He shot back a message, then checked his current thread with Shigaraki. He might as well ask him to pass on a message for the Doc.

"What's wrong?"

"Just this potential new member being a pain in my ass," he scoffed. "Nothing to worry your pretty little head about."

Ayumu nodded. "I've been thinking, though. Could I go with you some time?"

"Go with where?"

"To a meeting, or an outing. Anything that might get me out of here," she pleaded. "I feel trapped."

"What, the view isn't good enough for you?" he teased, but her irritation only grew. "I'll think about it, okay?"