aubergines | ( #002 ) FAKE MARRIED AU

[Luka would probably be a lot more affectionate with Boyd, given the opportunity, but it seems too close to taking advantage of the situation to make her comfortable with it. It's honestly a shame because given the opportunity she probably would have been interested in Boyd outside the situation. Her flirting could be taken for real instead of part of a ruse. Oh well.]

Alright I'll be careful, but hey, at least we get to have fun a bit before the other shoe drops and we find ourselves fighting, I don't know aliens or vampires or something dumb.

[Luka turns slightly as they walk, leading to her walking backwards in front of him as she flashes him a wider smile.]

You know I never even asked, do you like dancing?

[Because she does, and if she can pull him out onto whatever dance floor happens to be available to really unwind and get rid of some of that restless energy that builds up inside of her, so much the better.]

Just be sure to tell me if you get tired. [ Tell me if you spot anything. ] I don't want you to exhaust yourself on our first day.

[ He leads them out again, walking back toward the elevator. ]

I think the courtyard may be a good place to begin, unless you have other ideas?

[a massage he might be able to get behind. a facial, though? that gets a raise of his eyebrows. they creep ever higher when Wanda mentions the manicure and when he can't decide whether or not she's serious or just teasing him]

... you're kidding, right?

[ The queen knows better by now it is better not to argue with a musketeer. They have a terribly good knack to get themselves out of sticky situations more often than any other force under her husband's command (they were certainly clever to say the least). Although she had to admit her vanity did take a bit of a hit in that she had been stripped of her finery and made to look more simple.

It was practical and she was not so vain as to refuse the suggestion for her own safety. But her fine clothes and jewels were her own sort of armor, a way for her to garner respect and power that came with her position, to lessen how helpless she could feel at times, being at the mercy of court and a country that expected so much of her (and she had only managed to fail them until now). But it seems that ever since the assassination attempt on her, the idea of killing the queen had wormed it's way into many a head.

And for Athos's protection, she is grateful. It is why she tries her best to show her gratitude, tries to be helpful, and while she is quite affable, Athos is more... surly than his brothers in arms, more than Aramis, at least, whom the queen was quite fond of. She knows very little of the man who comes to her now as 'husband', telling her of the status of their stay here. She glances down with a gentle nod--] Thank you, mon-- [ She stops sort of formality and remembers herself.] Athos. [ She says it with an affection she has years of practice faking. Her real husband is no brute nor is he cruel but she does not love him, although there was a time she held affection for him. It passed with the loss of their child when he treated her cooly, blamed her for the loss. It was then that her heart closed off and she played the game she was meant to play as well as she could.

She lets him help her down, taking care to put her hands on his shoulders instead of trying to maintain a proper distance. Her life (and his) depended on it.] I fear I am more weary than I realized.

[ She nods her head in a way to let him know she got the message. ]

Courtyard sounds perfect, darling. Let's go.

[ And to the courtyard they go, Peter leading them, hand-in-hand, along the pathways, passing by people having picnics or families playing games. For a second he kind of sees the appeal in pretending none of the shit beyond this little planet is actually happening, and wouldn't it be nice to just flip the bird to the galaxy at large and just say, "Not my problem"?

Maybe a year or two ago, Peter would've been in the same boat. Maybe he would've conned himself into a place like this, or maybe he would've taken himself and his ship and ran as fast and as far as he could. Or maybe not. Maybe he would've helped where he could, at least to save his own ass. Self-preservation is a pretty big motivator, after all.

They're stopped along the pathway by another couple -- evidently, the couple recognize Kasumi and Peter as "newbies," and decided to introduce themselves. Several minutes of mindless smalltalk about the weather and how this place has done well to weed out the "riffraff" later (the majority of which Peter spends most of the time wanting to blow his brains out), they finally hit upon something useful.

"Be sure to stay away from the west wing."

Why? Is there some issue there?

"It's restricted."

It takes several more minutes of mindless chatter before the couple finally say their goodbyes, and once they've walked away, Peter turns to Kasumi, eyebrow raised. ]

They seemed nice, didn't they?

[ On Kasumi's end, the allure and luxury of the place make her cringe. These are people who truly, earnestly believe they're safe from the Reapers behind these walls. She could never turn her back on everything and live here--it would drive her nuts. Everything was too "perfect," and as the haughty couple they meet points out, there's no "riffraff." Kasumi just happens to like being part of that riffraff, so at the end of it all, when this mission is over, she'll look back and give them a huge "no thank you."

She gives Peter's hand a light, reassuring squeeze a few times during the conversation, just to let him know, yeah, this conversation blows, and gives it another when the west wing comes up to say, finally, something useful.

When the conversation finally comes to an end and Peter turns to her, she raises an eyebrow back and smiles. ]

Yes, let's invite them to dinner sometime, shall we?

[So much sass. What is a Thor to do?]

And why should you be the one to get all the glory?

Because aside from axes, some things require finesse and subtlety. [ he waves his hand carelessly. ] Two things that you never really found strength in. [ was that a challenge? ]

If needs call for them, Thor shall not be found lacking.

[hdu Loki that is so rude. Thor is the greatest, finest and subtleti-est of them all.]

She can't see the nod that he gives in response to her location, but he gives it anyways.

"Don't worry about it. We'll find him, okay?" It's not a mindless reassurance. It's a promise. It might have taken him three months to find Tony in the desert of Afghanistan, but he'd found him and brought him back home. Whether something happened to him in Germany or not, they'll find him and they'll bring him home, safe.

They always do.

[ Charles had been lucky. Growing up in England, and then America when the war threatened too much, he hadn't been through what Erik has been through. He hasn't had to fight for his life, for his parents, for his sanity. He grew up with a roof over his head and food in the fridge and Raven by his side.

He obtained a Ph D. at a young age and was what anyone would consider a normal child, except in all the ways he wasn't.

As such, he might be a bit under-qualified to tackle this particular mission. He'd seen all that he could see with the help of Cerebro, but he's not entire sure what to expect when they make their move. And it is for that reason he is glad it is Erik going with him. It might not be the best idea, to take a Holocaust survivor to a place where the similarities would undoubtedly make themselves, but he couldn't (and didn't) try to talk Erik out of it, not when he'd seen the look in his eyes.

The very same look that screamed of the emotions Charles had forcefully shoved aside within himself, because being irrationally emotional was not going to save those kids.

And if their smiles aimed at the lady behind the front desk are overly passionate, it is not due to love.

He gives him a nod and a, ] Thank you, Erik [ when the door is held open for him, stepping through to their one room one bed hotel room. He places his travel bag on the single bed, giving the room a once over, and lets out an breath.

Here they are. He supposes it's time to get to work. ]

[Erik will pleasantly be proven wrong for once. Something in Charles sags at the touch on his shoulder, rather than prickle. The illusion had been left behind at the door and there was the bed he'd so desperately wanted to flop face first on.]

Mostly I expect them to shut up and take my money. [It's said half-jokingly and he only realises a second too late how much of an over-privileged prat that made him sound. It's not always something he's sensitive towards, but even that comment manages to ping his radar.] What I mean is, I know there's enough places in the world that don't care so long as they have an excuse to tell themselves and you give generously, although I can't say I've ever needed such services myself. And that's just - well, it's how it should be. Everybody should mind their own bloody business for a change and leave people in peace.

[His features unknot a little, in response to Erik's uncertainty. And then he puts on primness to further joke - ] Although I did look fetching. [He catches Erik's eyes, mouth quirking into a smile slightly, and hopes that this is okay now. It smooths into something more apologetic a second later as he breathes out a sigh.] I'm sorry.

[ His expression flickers, if barely, and he hesitates for a long moment before he shakes his head, lips curling a little. He cannot even find the depth of emotion to feel embittered at the wealth Charles has; it's funny, instead, where it could have been ridiculous and irritating, and the tension that weighted Erik's own shoulders sags ever so slightly.

For the first time in a very long time Erik wishes he was better at this, better than just standing with an awkward hand and ever more awkward words. ] You have lived in a far better place than most, Charles. Perhaps in England, in New York, they might shake their head and simply accept money as a price for added silence. Here? It is hardly so simple; they have religion under their belt and generations of judgement to guide their thoughts. We are forward thinkers because, to us, mutation far exceeds homosexuality in the idea of danger.

[ Once, a long time ago, when Erik had the weight of his people's religion on his shoulders, he would have thought much of the same. The knowledge of his own gift, however, and his own personal choice to turn from God has left him dismissing those things -- how can he dare suggest that two men or two women in love is unnatural when the humans regard him as simply that for breathing? It seems foolish, illogical. He shakes his head, lifting a hand to touch Charles' shoulder and squeeze there, gently. ] You did. Very fetching - the most beautiful wife.

We're not stopping again until we get there, Peter. [ her firm tone belies the blush rising over her cheekbones. ]

[ He hums his agreement. ] I'm sure there's a directory we can access.

And how are you feeling? Do we need to head back up? [ They'll need their gear, after all, if they're going to tackle the restricted area. ]

[ And he's definitely noticing that, and for a second, he thinks, Score. Quickly on the heels of that, though, he kind of feels a twinge of guilt for embarrassing her. Especially if that means she'll be likely to avoid him after this is all said and done. ]

Right. [ And it's said in an undertone. ] Let 'em see how cute we are before they blow up the Solar System. Got it.

[ She feigns a sigh of exhaustion, leaning onto her not-husband for a moment. ]

Let's do that, darling. I'd like to relax for a little bit; maybe we can find something else to do later tonight.

[ Let's gear up and do something that's actually fun. ]

She knew it wasn't a platitude, after all, that three months might have been six, or a year, or never if Rhodey hadn't kept looking. Neither of them had it in them to just give up on Tony, especially when he might be in trouble.

By the time he arrived she'd already arranged plane tickets -since they couldn't really take the jet- and was in the middle of working on room and board. Her German wasn't as good as her French, but she seemed to be holding her own if nothing else, and only had to ask things to be repeated due to a bad connection as opposed to not understanding. She turned a relieved smile on him as she finished up the call with a cheerful-enough: "Danke, thank you, very much."

She turned the gratitude on him then, somewhat more reserved than she'd been on the phone, looking just a little tired, "Thank you for this, really."

[ He can't help it -- he smiles and thinks, Finally, as they head back up. ]

As you wish, sweetheart.

[The elevator doors open and Wanda reaches up from his chest to pat his cheek affectionately.]

Not at all. Consider it a bonus to this whole thing or a price to pay for a nice hotel but it is rather necessary. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't.

[With her other hand still grasping his, she leads him out of the elevator and down the hall toward their room.]

[ When they make it back into their quarters, Kasumi watches the door close behind them before almost immediately turning to Peter, a glimmer of wild excitement in her eyes (or what he can see of them, anyway). ]

Excellent job, darling Mr. James McClain. I think we've found the perfect little place to call our own.

[ Now let's go crash this party. ]

[ He's grinning by now, heading for the suitcases containing their gear. He's thanking every god available that there aren't any cameras in their quarters as he plops the cases on the table, popping open his own and running his hands oh, so lovingly over his blasters. ]

Why, Mrs. Elena McClain. You act as if your gorgeous, charming, stunning husband never delivers.

[ While Peter has his moment with his blasters, Kasumi's taking off her disguise, revealing her usual catsuit underneath. Then she's on her omni-tool, pulling up schematics of the building she had gotten before they began the mission. Sure enough, it had been easy enough to get blueprints of the complex, but it left a huge empty void where this west wing would be.

That, of course, didn't stop Kasumi, and it only took a little more extra sabotage and hacking to get what she needed, and while she wasn't quite sure what it was at the time other than the missing piece of the puzzle, she realizes now that it's a schematic of the west wing. It's not quite as detailed as the rest of the map she's got, which details each sector of residences, recreational areas, and offices, but it's enough for them to go on. Then she's popping open her suitcase. On most heists, Kasumi doesn't even bother to bring a gun; hand-to-hand combat usually suffices, if she even needs to engage an enemy, and she loves stealing guns out of her enemies' holsters without them even noticing. But this is Cerberus, so she picks up her trusty M-5 Phalanx and holsters it on her hip. ]

Oh, right. Best husband ever award goes to you, of course, for being so "gorgeous, charming, stunning, and really good at delivering things."

[he leans into her hand, belatedly, as it occurs to him even in his surprise to keep up the act. a moment of silence follows, as they head out of the elevator and under the weight of the idea that she's not kidding, and then slowly, wryly, he smiles] Tony's gonna have a field day with that, if and when he finds out.

[probably when. it's Tony. hell, he really wouldn't be surprised if he'd found a way to remotely hack the hotel's security system, had been watching them in the elevator, and knew already]

( #002 ) FAKE MARRIED AU

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FINALLY HERE

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idk??? what i'm doing???

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