It wasn’t as if Larkspur had never taken hostages before. It wasn’t even the first time he’d taken hostages to force heroes to listen to his demands. But Megan wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it this time. Larkspur’s henchmen, the Deadly Nightshades were going around making sure the civilians were tied up properly. “Not too tight, is it ma’am?”
Megan blinked and shook her head. “Uh, no. It’s fine, thank you.”
The elderly man next to her scoffed.“Back in *my* day it wouldn’t have mattered if us normies were comfortable.” The henchman shrugged.
“I prefer things under the Union. Means I’m not going to get killed for some stupid reason.”
Megan nodded in agreement as he finished making sure the zip ties weren’t cutting off her circulation. “Thanks to the Union and the Council, civilian casualties have dropped to almost nothing, and even the Supers aren’t injured nearly as often.”
“Bah, it just means anyone can get into the fighting now. When I was young the Supers had *drive*, ambition! They weren’t just messing around in some glorified what’sit, chess game.”
Megan resisted the urge to roll her eyes. There were always some people who missed the so called ‘glory days’ of Super Fights; the destruction of billions of dollars worth of property, countless bystanders reduced to numbers on a casualty list, blood feuds between heroes and villains that rivaled the death toll of the Hatfields and McCoys.
She cleared her throat and turned to the Henchman. “Sorry to bother you but, what exactly is his goal this time?”
“Oh, he’s demanding Terra Firma reveal her secret identity.”
Her heart dropped to her ankles and she felt like she’d been punched in the stomach.“What, why?!” She swallowed and cleared her throat. “I mean, that’s against Council regulations, even the Union frowns on that kind of thing, he has so much to lose here…”
The Nightshade shrugged again.“He doesn’t tell us those kinds of things ma’am. I need to get back to work, if you need water or the restroom you can call one of us over.” The large black clad man walked back over to where the other Nightshades were making sure their communications were synched as Larkspur paced along the carpeted aisle.
The old man next to her snorted. “Idiot. You don’t ask, you act like you already know, lure them out and then bam! De-mask ‘em in one on one combat.” Megan looked at him, frowning slightly.
“De-masking an opponent is considered almost tantamount to a crippling injury, considering that means they need to go into hiding.” From the Super who’d revealed their identity, other Supers who might take advantage, the civilian media, vigilantes with ideas of revenge. For some older Supers it was practically forced retirement.
“Well you don’t do it in front of other people.” The man glared at her, dark blue eyes sharp in the wizened face. “It’s not a public victory, it’s a private one. You know your opponent now, can know them inside and out. It’s more intimate than sex.” He grunted and stretched out his leg, bound hands rubbing at where a prosthetic was attached. “You know ‘em in a way no one else does. Not even their sidekick, or closest normie friend.”
That…was not a way she’d thought about it before. Terra Firma and Larkspur had clashed hundreds of times over the few years they’d been in the same city. Earth powers and Plant control. There had been a few…interesting encounters. Dangling from vines with her costume torn from the battle, Larkspur bound in stone manacles, armor broken to reveal the column of his throat and the top of his chest. Tense moments where they were bare inches apart…Megan shook her head rapidly to dispel the thoughts hoping no one nearby was a telepath.
The old man ignored her and continued. “That’s why he’s an idiot. He’s practically admitting he’s too scared to do it himself. Giving them both an out by using hostages.” He turned to the side, looking like he might spit, then stopped himself and settled for clicking his tongue. “Supers these days.”
She realized it was true. If Terra Firma refused, then Larkspur could cite Union regulations and release the hostages, with only a bit of humiliation. Terra Firma could cite Council mandates and point to the use of hostages as foul play to avoid censure for failing to comply to save them. Megan’s frown deepened. What would she have done, if she wasn’t one of the hostages?
Larkspur’s silken voice, demanding her identity, the camera panning over the hostages, and the henchmen waiting for orders. She would have…come to beat the shit out of him.
“Oh my god, he *is* an idiot…”
The elderly man barked a laugh. “Just now figuring that out, are you?”
“I didn’t think Super Villains *could* be.” She raised her bound hands, and her voice. “Excuse me? I need to use the toilet.” One of the henchmen broke away from the group to come escort her.
“Of course they can. No one’s a genius when it comes to love.” The old man’s sudden shift in tone brought her attention back to him, but he was staring out the window, and the Nightshade was next to her, undoing the ties on her feet so she could walk.
<lb>
Henry used the reflection to watch the love of his life follow the Shade out to the hall. He’d never seen her in the delivery uniform before, it was cute. Absolutely hideous as all food service uniforms were, but she looked good in anything. He looked at his younger self, and since his darling wasn’t here to scold him, spat on the floor. He’d been such a damn moron. No wonder it had taken her so long to realize he was ass over teakettle for her.
<lb>
Megan braced herself on the kitchen counter as new memories bloomed behind her eyelids. Fighting Larkspur at the hotel, instead of calling him out to the park nearby. Memories of more fights, kisses, and dates flashed by. There were rattles and thumps, clinks and chiming as things in the house changed. She glared at the wedding ring on her wrinkled hand and turned off the stove. “That stupid old goat!”
She shuffled to the entryway and pulled on her housecoat, sliding into her outdoor slippers. The door to the garage was ajar and she couldn’t help sighing.
“Letting the cold air in again.” hopefully the cat hadn’t got out, or Henry was going to complain about having fur all over his tools. Never mind that he’d retired twenty years back, same as she had. The low hum of electricity confirmed her suspicions and there was a flash of violet and green light as she padded into the garage, careful not to knock against her husband’s work bench.
He was sitting in a half capsule shaped machine, covered in… “Is that cement dust?” She watched him jerk slightly, looking at her like a guilty boy caught coming home after curfew.
“Nothing serious dearheart-”
“Don’t you dearheart me! You said you were working on an anniversary gift.” She wanted to be angry, but the emotions roiling in her chest were too warm, and fond. “Going back in time to order a pizza delivered-” She huffed and went to help him up, noticing him rubbing at his prosthetic.
His arms wrapped around her and pulled her down onto his lap for a kiss, dark blue eyes twinkling at her.“I think it’s a perfect gift. I got ten extra years of you in my arms, my bed, my life.” He stroked her silver streaked hair. “And I got to watch you kick the shit out of me.”
Megan pouted and poked his chest. “And am I supposed to be pleased you’ve been meddling with the time stream?” She slid her arms around him, holding him tight. “You could’ve unmade yourself, or been killed.”
He scoffed and kissed her cheek.“You think a sprig like Larkspur could’ve killed me? With the brave and beautiful Terra Firma sitting right next to me?”
Megan blushed and tweaked his ear. “It was still dangerous.” She couldn’t help the flutter in her chest as her husband’s expression turned serious, his hold on her tightening in turn.
“It was, but to give you more…more of my time, my love…anything. That was worth all the risk.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“You realized that, about forty odd years ago now.”
brightinsanity t1_j62n3a8 wrote
Reply to [WP] You are a superhero, and your arch nemesis has taken a group of hostages to force you to reveal your secret identity. However, you are one of the hostages they've taken. by Mr_Meme_Master
Title: If I Could Turn Back Time
It wasn’t as if Larkspur had never taken hostages before. It wasn’t even the first time he’d taken hostages to force heroes to listen to his demands. But Megan wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it this time. Larkspur’s henchmen, the Deadly Nightshades were going around making sure the civilians were tied up properly. “Not too tight, is it ma’am?”
Megan blinked and shook her head. “Uh, no. It’s fine, thank you.”
The elderly man next to her scoffed.“Back in *my* day it wouldn’t have mattered if us normies were comfortable.” The henchman shrugged.
“I prefer things under the Union. Means I’m not going to get killed for some stupid reason.”
Megan nodded in agreement as he finished making sure the zip ties weren’t cutting off her circulation. “Thanks to the Union and the Council, civilian casualties have dropped to almost nothing, and even the Supers aren’t injured nearly as often.”
“Bah, it just means anyone can get into the fighting now. When I was young the Supers had *drive*, ambition! They weren’t just messing around in some glorified what’sit, chess game.”
Megan resisted the urge to roll her eyes. There were always some people who missed the so called ‘glory days’ of Super Fights; the destruction of billions of dollars worth of property, countless bystanders reduced to numbers on a casualty list, blood feuds between heroes and villains that rivaled the death toll of the Hatfields and McCoys.
She cleared her throat and turned to the Henchman. “Sorry to bother you but, what exactly is his goal this time?”
“Oh, he’s demanding Terra Firma reveal her secret identity.”
Her heart dropped to her ankles and she felt like she’d been punched in the stomach.“What, why?!” She swallowed and cleared her throat. “I mean, that’s against Council regulations, even the Union frowns on that kind of thing, he has so much to lose here…”
The Nightshade shrugged again.“He doesn’t tell us those kinds of things ma’am. I need to get back to work, if you need water or the restroom you can call one of us over.” The large black clad man walked back over to where the other Nightshades were making sure their communications were synched as Larkspur paced along the carpeted aisle.
The old man next to her snorted. “Idiot. You don’t ask, you act like you already know, lure them out and then bam! De-mask ‘em in one on one combat.” Megan looked at him, frowning slightly.
“De-masking an opponent is considered almost tantamount to a crippling injury, considering that means they need to go into hiding.” From the Super who’d revealed their identity, other Supers who might take advantage, the civilian media, vigilantes with ideas of revenge. For some older Supers it was practically forced retirement.
“Well you don’t do it in front of other people.” The man glared at her, dark blue eyes sharp in the wizened face. “It’s not a public victory, it’s a private one. You know your opponent now, can know them inside and out. It’s more intimate than sex.” He grunted and stretched out his leg, bound hands rubbing at where a prosthetic was attached. “You know ‘em in a way no one else does. Not even their sidekick, or closest normie friend.”
That…was not a way she’d thought about it before. Terra Firma and Larkspur had clashed hundreds of times over the few years they’d been in the same city. Earth powers and Plant control. There had been a few…interesting encounters. Dangling from vines with her costume torn from the battle, Larkspur bound in stone manacles, armor broken to reveal the column of his throat and the top of his chest. Tense moments where they were bare inches apart…Megan shook her head rapidly to dispel the thoughts hoping no one nearby was a telepath.
The old man ignored her and continued. “That’s why he’s an idiot. He’s practically admitting he’s too scared to do it himself. Giving them both an out by using hostages.” He turned to the side, looking like he might spit, then stopped himself and settled for clicking his tongue. “Supers these days.”
She realized it was true. If Terra Firma refused, then Larkspur could cite Union regulations and release the hostages, with only a bit of humiliation. Terra Firma could cite Council mandates and point to the use of hostages as foul play to avoid censure for failing to comply to save them. Megan’s frown deepened. What would she have done, if she wasn’t one of the hostages?
Larkspur’s silken voice, demanding her identity, the camera panning over the hostages, and the henchmen waiting for orders. She would have…come to beat the shit out of him.
“Oh my god, he *is* an idiot…”
The elderly man barked a laugh. “Just now figuring that out, are you?”
“I didn’t think Super Villains *could* be.” She raised her bound hands, and her voice. “Excuse me? I need to use the toilet.” One of the henchmen broke away from the group to come escort her.
“Of course they can. No one’s a genius when it comes to love.” The old man’s sudden shift in tone brought her attention back to him, but he was staring out the window, and the Nightshade was next to her, undoing the ties on her feet so she could walk.
<lb>
Henry used the reflection to watch the love of his life follow the Shade out to the hall. He’d never seen her in the delivery uniform before, it was cute. Absolutely hideous as all food service uniforms were, but she looked good in anything. He looked at his younger self, and since his darling wasn’t here to scold him, spat on the floor. He’d been such a damn moron. No wonder it had taken her so long to realize he was ass over teakettle for her.
<lb>
Megan braced herself on the kitchen counter as new memories bloomed behind her eyelids. Fighting Larkspur at the hotel, instead of calling him out to the park nearby. Memories of more fights, kisses, and dates flashed by. There were rattles and thumps, clinks and chiming as things in the house changed. She glared at the wedding ring on her wrinkled hand and turned off the stove. “That stupid old goat!”
She shuffled to the entryway and pulled on her housecoat, sliding into her outdoor slippers. The door to the garage was ajar and she couldn’t help sighing.
“Letting the cold air in again.” hopefully the cat hadn’t got out, or Henry was going to complain about having fur all over his tools. Never mind that he’d retired twenty years back, same as she had. The low hum of electricity confirmed her suspicions and there was a flash of violet and green light as she padded into the garage, careful not to knock against her husband’s work bench.
He was sitting in a half capsule shaped machine, covered in… “Is that cement dust?” She watched him jerk slightly, looking at her like a guilty boy caught coming home after curfew.
“Nothing serious dearheart-”
“Don’t you dearheart me! You said you were working on an anniversary gift.” She wanted to be angry, but the emotions roiling in her chest were too warm, and fond. “Going back in time to order a pizza delivered-” She huffed and went to help him up, noticing him rubbing at his prosthetic.
His arms wrapped around her and pulled her down onto his lap for a kiss, dark blue eyes twinkling at her.“I think it’s a perfect gift. I got ten extra years of you in my arms, my bed, my life.” He stroked her silver streaked hair. “And I got to watch you kick the shit out of me.”
Megan pouted and poked his chest. “And am I supposed to be pleased you’ve been meddling with the time stream?” She slid her arms around him, holding him tight. “You could’ve unmade yourself, or been killed.”
He scoffed and kissed her cheek.“You think a sprig like Larkspur could’ve killed me? With the brave and beautiful Terra Firma sitting right next to me?”
Megan blushed and tweaked his ear. “It was still dangerous.” She couldn’t help the flutter in her chest as her husband’s expression turned serious, his hold on her tightening in turn.
“It was, but to give you more…more of my time, my love…anything. That was worth all the risk.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“You realized that, about forty odd years ago now.”
“And yet I married you anyway.”