Raven Darkholme (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
amutantingotham) wrote2012-08-09 11:28 pm
amutantingotham) wrote2012-08-09 11:28 pm
AU ; George Stacy
[She's nervous to be here. Nervous because she knows what she needs to do, and does think she might actually enjoy it -- but because the idea of actually betraying someone she's come to pity, come to like -- is a little daunting.
The actual betraying will come later, of course, as right now she's just going to be getting the blackmail material.
She takes a breath and knocks on his door, putting on a face that's a little more distressed than she really is.]
The actual betraying will come later, of course, as right now she's just going to be getting the blackmail material.
She takes a breath and knocks on his door, putting on a face that's a little more distressed than she really is.]
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She doesn't answer right away, though, and instead focuses on returning the kiss. Her arms curl around his shoulders, fingers tickling the back of his neck.]
Yes.
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[He presses into her, hand sliding down one leg. She's so short. It makes him smile.]
...I used to be good at it, but I could...I could try again maybe and together maybe we could...make this city a better place.
[The mis-placed faith of a believer. He leads her over to the couch and his hands stay again. just holding her.
For the moment]
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Maybe she can convince him that the mutants aren't so bad.
She knows that's silly and weak, so she kisses him hard again to stamp out the thought. She can't lie to him more than she already has.]
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his eyes stay open, never leaving hers.
He trusts her.]
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Her hands venture down, aiming to get his slacks off.
If he keeps looking at her like that, there's going to be -- problems.]
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It really has been at least a year. He's already half hard and his movements are clumsy as he tries to think of something to do-for her specifically.]
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Her jacket is still where she put it down, the pin with the built-in camera facing them.
Once she's got his clothes off, she's sliding down his body, lips tracing his chest, his stomach. Surely he knows where she's headed.]
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George for his part is lying back against the pillows of the old worn couch, hands in her hair.]
You are really good at this.
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This is more than enough. She knows that much, knows it.
She reminds herself he'd never accept her the way she really is. Some small part of her wants to think that he would, and now that's all she can think about.
Damn.]
Better than you know.
[And she draws back now, looking for all intents and purposes like she's just ... having second thoughts. She is, but probably not for the reasons he's going to think.]
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[More honesty, and she's losing her nerve. Going all the way would be a better, more secure bit of blackmail -- but that seems unnecessarily cruel.
She draws back enough to pick up her jacket in a smooth motion, pull it on hastily.]
I should go. I'll -- figure something out.
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...Jennifer..it-
[How compromised is he?] ...Yeah okay.
[Is there a nasty bite to his tone? Yes there is.]
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[She shakes her head, flustered, and when she looks down she can feel her composure slipping.]
Really sorry.
[The pictures show up on his desk the next day, menacing block letters on the back of the high-resolution photographs.
NOT THE BEST FACE TO SHOW THE PUBLIC, MR. STACY.
WE'RE WATCHING YOU.
Jennifer doesn't show up for work that day, nor the next. ]