The Velocity rebound [Closed for Ambrosia_64]

Sleuth groaned when she called him inspector Gadget. His hands clenched into fists. Things were worse than he thought. He ran his hand across his mask and exhaled heavily. "You need to start doing your research. Being a hero isn't just about running around. If you can't research your opponents, you won't know what they are going to throw at you and you will die that much quicker."

"I knew your predecessor. We might not have wrestled in oil, but we were close, even lovers for a short time." sleuth pauses allowing her to take that in.

" The police think I killed her. They call me Sleuth."
 
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Opponents? Jenna considered his terminology, wondering if he had intended on implicating himself or not.

"Sorry, 'The Big Picture Book of Bad Guys' was checked out at the library." She flitted a few feet to her right after tossing that at him, a shimmering movement he would have missed if he blinked. "I've had my abilities all of three weeks. But...noted." Too bad someone shot the damned computer.

Jenna listened to him speak, then flitted back to her left after his first pause, considering that information-and coloring at the wrestling in oil bit. She had to stop thinking about that. No wonder he'd been pissed though, her taking up the name and mask. Except-

"Why did you set a trap, thinking I was her? Bad break up?" That had partially been a joke-but then he dropped the next bombshell, and her flitting here and there came to a sudden stop. So this was Sleuth.

Her reaction, even without being able to see her eyes, made it obvious she had read about him. Now she had a face-er, mask-to a name. "There's a lot of speculation, about that." She finally said. Her brow furrowed a little, her right hand tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. She knew how poor Miss Laura had been found, years before. She knew he'd disappeared around the same time. She also knew he didn't-or at least wasn't known-to have powers.

Jenna cleared her throat, ambled closer in a slow walk. "You disappeared." She said instead of asking him the obvious, mulling everything over, mulling HIM over. He didn't seem like a killer. Sleuth hadn't killed anyone else, at least no one he was suspected of killing, either. And...maybe she was underestimating him, but how would he have managed to catch and end Laura...?

And why would he have killed Laura? The stalwart heroine had caught him once, but he had been out of jail several years before she died. Revenge didn't seem a very likely motive. And...wouldn't her murderer have known for certain Velocity couldn't be...well, Laura, if he had been the one to kill her? Yet he had thought it her.

He could have killed her too, back in the bunker. She'd been hurt and trapped under him. It wouldn't have been hard for a man his size to hurt her-but he hadn't.

Jenna was within arm's reach now, hesitating a moment before she dared to put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm...I'm sorry. That must be awful, to lose a friend and then..." To be blamed for it. Her condolences might not matter much, but in the very least-he would know she didn't suspect him.

But Laura's killer was still out there. Whoever it was...

Jenna retracted her hand and stepped back again. "Miss Laura sounded like...seemed like the real deal." She said quietly, crossing her arms. Not just from what she had read- but the things Laura's echo had said.
 
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He didn't reply to her comment about the bad break up, but instead answered with a glowering look.

There's a lot of speculation, about that."

"Well they can keep on speculating," Sleuth said unable to keep the heat out of his voice.

"She's a saint, and I'm the villain." He laughs a little bitterly." He watched velocity move towards him. She placed a hand on his shoulder and after her initial snarky remarks the features on her face softened.

There was more to the story, so much more, and he'd carried the secret with him for five long years. Unable to tell anyone the truth. He wanted to forget.

He was painfully aware of how close this mirage of his former lover was. His eyes wandered and were mesmerised by her form and he wondered, not for the first time, what she looked like under the mask, and under the suit. He found himself moving closer.

Stop. He had to focus on what was real. Not this. Not again.

When he finally spoke he had to cough to clear his throat.

"The gym. You can use it to train, if you want. It belongs to a friend of mine."
 
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That offer surprised her, and it showed. She had expected another order to go home, in all honesty.

“Thanks. I definitely need practice.” She looked down to her left gloved hand, the one she had crushed and broken against a concrete wall. A frown on her full lips as she did so, before she looked up and gave the place another look. Was his friend a former boxer? She was curious, but didn’t ask. Just as she didn’t ask anything more about Laura. He had gone quiet and had been looking at her costume. She wasn’t sure if it brought back bad memories...or good ones, ones that shouldn’t be associated with her.

I’m the villain.

But was he? He’d gone quiet for five years...maybe jail had been enough, and he didn’t steal anymore. He must have been in the park to help. Why else would he have cut a path through all that jungle?

Jenna had been looking at him again, studying him behind her silver goggles. And then she gave a slight tilt of her head, a flicker of a hesitant smile. “Maybe you’ll show me a thing or two, sometime…?” She extended her right silver gloved hand, unsure if he’d accept the gesture-or make fun of her. “Friends? Or at least...not enemies?”
 
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Velocity extended her Silver glove and her face tilted up to his.

“Friends? Or at least...not enemies?”

Instead of taking her hand Sleuth placed the palm of his hand against her cheek. His fingers snaked their way into her hair, caressing and probing the back of her skull. His eyes fell on her unsure, closed lips. He stepped forward until his body was brushing lightly against the tip of her breast.

"Friends? No we're not friends," he whispered.

Then before he did anything more he might regret he spun on his heel and left without another word.

His mind full of conflicting emotions as he thought about the sweet girl he dated only last week. He hadn't seen or since, nor was he sure he'd ever see her again, but he didn't want THIS with Velocity. Not tonight, at least. He needed to clear his head.
 
Jenna’s eyes widened behind her goggles, and she had to resist the urge to flit away before he could do...whatever it was he intended on doing-but his fingers threaded into her silky hair and behind her head, and...and she wasn’t sure why, but she stayed there regardless.

Her heart picked up pace, her boots rooted to the spot even as he stepped in closer, her previously extended hand now on his chest. "Friends? No we're not friends," Oh. Oh holy shit.

And then he released her and spun around, leaving a very confused, slightly dazed, blushing woman in his wake. Those whispered words had been laced with want and...lust? It had given her goose bumps. She had never heard anything so charged, not directed at her. Not that bold.

It was good he had left. Good, because she had not reacted the way she should have-which was turning and leaving first. Not friends? Then...what were they? Jenna swallowed, feeling warm and a little off balance.

And then her brow furrowed, and she shook herself. Nothing. They were nothing. She might be wearing her costume, but she wasn’t Laura. He didn’t know her. He certainly shouldn’t be touching her like...like that. Talking like that. Even in costume, she wasn't that kind of girl.

...right?

With a final glance around the place, Jenna hardened her resolve and burst into motion, nothing more than a blur in the night as she sped home. Right.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

The next few days were busy for the new Velocity. Tuesday had a few small time crooks being captured and left for police. A foiled mugging, an attempted assault interrupted by knocking the would be assailant on his ass, and an armed robbery stopped-and captured on tape again. Thursday morning’s newspaper had the police crediting her with stopping a small arms deal in the harbor Wednesday night, a crisscrossed web of ropes and chains keeping the involved men in place-and the shipping containers locked tight. (The 911 call had the young woman admitting to ‘stumbling upon it’, and she was sorry about the mess.)

Friday night she stopped a couple of guys from robbing an ATM utilizing a trash can for one and a bicycle lock for the other. She was everywhere in the city, poking her nose where it didn’t belong, according to some mobsters-but there was no denying the shimmering blue blur was back-even as people started to realize this was a successor, and not the original heroine herself revived. She’d been dubbed Velocity II, and people were curious as to where this speedster from seemingly out of nowhere had come.

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Saturday. Jenna had been up for a while, she wasn't one for sleeping in-which was too bad, she'd been up late last night. She lay on her stomach in bed, tapping her pen against her notebook as she briefly zoned out while staring out the window. It'd been a good week though, right? A very good week. She still wasn't entirely sure what she was doing entirely, but being so fast and also clever with her antics was making a small impact, if nothing else. She was glad she hadn't quit. She'd try to keep getting better and better, help more and more people as she got used to her abilities, figured out the extent of them.

Yes, it was good she had stuck with it, hadn't listened to Sleuth.

Sleuth...hrm.

Her dark eyes flicked to the flip phone half shoved under her pillow. Between her studies and her nightlife, she had hardly had time to sleep, let alone think about socializing. But it was Saturday. She had a lot of work to do, but maybe...maybe she could...and should, make time for the nice, handsome Mr. Anthony. She'd like to see him again. She felt bad it'd taken her this long to call him again.

She sat up, flipping the phone open. She felt a little nervous, all of a sudden. Which was...was silly. He liked her, right? They had already been on one date, what was brunch? Jenna dialed the number, tapping her pen against her thigh as it rang. It wasn't too early-ten o clock.

"Hello Anthony, it's Jenna-you up for some brunch today or tomorrow?"
 
"Hello Anthony, it's Jenna-you up for some brunch today or tomorrow?"

"Hello stranger," Anthony said looking up from the DNA report that had just come back. "It's nice to hear your voice again. Brunch tomorrow? I have a meeting, but I can cancel... No, I'd like to see you. 11am, great I'll see you there."

Anthony returned to the DNA report, skimming the details. Hmm Filipino and German/Scottish ancestry, no wonder she wore the goggles. No criminal record, which didn't surprise him, but made it more difficult. Maybe the finger print analysis would be more conclusive. When it finally came back from the lab.

Why couldn't he get this girl out of his head? He'd avoided going out, but the news were loving her so there was no getting away from her capers and rescues. Small time stuff, but she was being smarter about it all. Not that he cared, or should care, or did care. Nope care factor zero right here.

He was glad Jenna had called. He could at least get his head sorted. Anthony glanced at his costume on the manakin at the back of his wardrobe. Her climbed to his feet, walked to the cupboard, looked it up and down, before shutting the door and going to bed. He didn't fall asleep for a very long time as he lay there thinking about the woman he wanted, and the woman he needed.
 
After a quick sprint through a bad neighborhood(stopped two teens from killing each other over a petty fight, but that was it) Jenna had cleaned up the mess in Velocity’s old base. It didn’t take her too long, given her abilities-so handy!-and she was glad to do it, having felt very guilty for the damage done previously. The computer was a wash. She had the hard drive still, but she needed to get a dock and figure out what could be salvaged. Jury was still out on that.

She had also gotten a clever new locking mechanism on the vault trap door entrance. See him get through THAT.

...he probably wasn’t going to come after her though. He hadn’t made a showing yet, at his own gym. Not that she wanted him to. ...nope, she was busy, no time for trench coat wearing madmen who scaled buildings and leapt over alleyways.

And it’d be nice to have a base to change in and out of costume in...she was tired of having to resort to the same shady bar restroom to change in.

Speaking of-Jenna slipped out of the costume and replaced it in its special case, pulling her black skater's dress and pink flats back on. She didn’t want to stay out too late, not with a date tomorrow.

Jenna felt a bit of excitement and a flutter in her stomach about seeing Anthony again, thanking him for his encouragement. She was glad he’d agreed to brunch. She was glad it was more casual. Mostly, she was glad she had someone like him to think about, because this Sleuth business was...well, as her mother said, Walang naninira sa bakal kundi sariling kalawang-Nothing destroys iron but its own corrosion.

She had better be good, dammit. She was better than base desires. Disciplined.

...of course she was.

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This time, she had beaten him there. It was a small, casual little diner type restaurant, one that served a very delicious breakfast until one pm every day. Her parents and her had eaten there on their first day in New York, so she was familiar with where it was, luckily.

She was wearing a dark desert orange patterned blouse under a tan colored cardigan she’d only buttoned towards the bottom. A fluffed dark navy blue skirt fell about mid thigh, a pair of tan colored lace up ankle boots on her feet-an inch or two of the tops of navy blue socks with dark orange argyle showing. She had a little brown leather purse that brought everything together. She’d pulled her shorter hair back into a ponytail, her longish bangs swept neatly to one side of her pretty face. Her earrings were tiny little foxes that matched her shirt and socks. All in all, even without make up-she was a pretty, cute little lady, managing to pull off wholesome and sexy in her conservative but cute, good girl clothing.

Jenna had been sitting on the padded bench patiently, her ankles crossed-but she bounced up with a dazzling smile almost as soon as he stepped through the doors. “Anthony! Hi. Hope you’re hungry-this place just heaps on the pancakes, I swear.” She offered her hand to shake, seemed to think better of it-and hugged him instead, if he let her.

“I feel bad you had to cancel a meeting-I should have called earlier in the week, I’m sorry.” She said as they were shown to a booth, an apologetic smile. “Things have been a little hectic, but then again, they kind of usually are.” Jenna only peeked through the menu a moment before she decided on a small french toast plate and a cup of coffee, extra sugar.

"Other than your wonderful company-" She picked up her coffee cup with both of her small hands, blowing on it a moment. "I wanted to get together and tell you how much help your advice was...I stuck with it, and I'm glad I did. So, thank you, truly." She took a sip of her coffee after a smile.
 
Anthony smiled when the small woman wrapped her arms around him, and he returned the hug with a casualness of two old friends seeing each other again. He gave her a chaste peck on the cheek before releasing her. She leapt back into her seat before he could pull it out for her, so he took his spot in the booth.

"You look nice by the way," he said, his white teeth flashing at her.

“I feel bad you had to cancel a meeting-I should have called earlier in the week, I’m sorry.”

"Don't worry about it. He replied, "it wasn't important. To be honest I wasn't sure you would call. I know you get lost sometimes, so I figured you must have misplaced by number." He winked at her. She was talking at a million miles an hour, perhaps from nervousness and she didn't seem able to sit still. Yet she looked tired. Tired but strangely happy. Like a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

He ordered a tea and leaned back listening to her musical voice.
"I wanted to get together and tell you how much help your advice was...I stuck with it, and I'm glad I did. So, thank you, truly."
"Your most welcome, I'd love to hear more. I hope you showed the ass hat what you were made of."

He grinned listening to her story, and enjoying the smell of her. "You smell really good. Do you mind?" She half stood, paused to make sure she was comfortable and then leaned in until his face was near her neck. He breathed in her scent of vanilla and apple blossoms in one long sniff before smiling and taking his seat again. " I really like that scent on you."
 
Anthony was charming as ever. She didn’t give herself a lot of free time for frivolous things-but this, this was a good use of that free time.

“I hope you showed the ass hat what you were made of."

“I don’t know about that...he’s made himself kind of scarce.” Jenna considered the fact. “But I don’t think he’ll throw another fit, so that’s great! He might not be all that bad. And hopefully I can keep improving, if I work hard enough at it.”

She told him a bit about the latest papers she had had to write, touched briefly on her ‘volunteer work’ with a lot of help from her ACTUAL volunteer work at the nursing home-and listened to him talk a bit about work-without too many details, as usual-and enjoyed the conversation as it turned to his own previous academic pursuits.

Jenna blinked, a slight head tilt at his statement about her scent. Must be her lotion?

“Do I mind…?” Jenna went still as he leaned in a little and inhaled, a blush of color briefly coming to her face. “Thank you. I-It’s just lotion.” She felt a little embarrassed and she wasn’t entirely sure why-and she was also oddly glad he did like the scent of it, for some reason.

“I like it because it’s not overpowering, just...a little something for me, I guess.” She reached for something to say, but her mind blanked a bit before it resorted to trivia. “And vanilla is considered universally pleasant across cultures, did you know that?”

...really Jenna?

The food was delicious and once again he wouldn’t hear of her paying for it. Jenna pushed a little harder this time, arguing she had invited HIM to brunch, not the other way around-but he insisted, and so she once again insisted on at least taking care of the tip.

“Maybe we can try to make this a regular thing, brunch? My weekdays are kind of overloaded, between school and um. Volunteer work. Weekends too, but I can and would love to make time for you, Anthony.” They had been leaving the restaurant and stopped briefly on the empty patio, off to one side of the doors.

He moved to hug her and she briefly enjoyed being swallowed up in his arms-before she stepped back and started to turn to go. But in a quick movement, she executed a sharp turn on her left boot that caused her fluffed skirt to flare slightly(but not too much). And she popped up on her tiptoes before he had time to fully straighten up-and pressed a kiss to his mouth. Her full lips were exactly as soft as they looked, and very warm. The spontaneous nature of the kiss made it all the more surprising.
 
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Jenna's lips were like a spark that ignites the forest fire. What started as a light brush of her lips against his, escalated in both heat and intensity. His arms reached around to the small of her back pulling her tighter into his warmth.

His other hand spread across her cheek and behind her head searching for a hot spot of nerves at the base of her neck. He consumed first her bottom lip and then top, savouring the taste of her mouth on his. His tongue briefly danced and fenced with Jenna's alighting his fiery passion further. With a physical effort he pulled himself away from her, his breathing heavy and a warm glow lighting his face.

For almost a minute he could only stare down at her smiling like an idiot. "I need to see you again, soon. What are you doing for your birthday?"

They made arrangements to meet again soon and parted each unable to look away from the other.

///////

News Flash: The 7th National Bank was robbed today by unknown perpetrators.

"It was the craziest thing. One minute the money was there the next it was gone. Never seen anything like it."
Banker Margaret Williams said. The only unusual activity, Ms Williams described, was a strange purple blur and a rush of wind.

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Mistress Rush. For god sake, since the brat showed her face, they were all coming out of the woodwork.

Mistress Rush knew what happened to Velocity. She knew how Laura died. She'd always hated Velocity, and Sleuth had no doubt that Rush would be after the brat soon enough. Sleuth had to get to Rush before the brat did. The woman was wanted for 43 counts of first degree murder. Even the Flash had traded blows with her.

He wheeled his motorbike out of the garage and roared off down the street. It wouldn't be difficult to scope out her old base, lean on a few of her old associates, and hopefully crack some old heads. He hoped that their history wasn’t going to complicate things. Why was it he always went weak in the knees whenever a speedster with breasts turned up?
 
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Jenna had decided on a quick kiss at the last minute-and found herself with a whole lot more. As if her bit of spontaneity had either sparked something in him or pulled away the visage of civility for a moment-or both, warmth and want and fire behind his charming smile. It made her knees a little weak.

He pulled her close, her soft chest molding to his harder one, his warmth radiating through his shirt and hers. His larger hand was at the small of her toned back and he caressed her face with his other one, warm fingers slipping through her hair and to the base of her neck, just beneath the collar of her shirt, sending a shiver spiraling down her spine-and then fire racing hard after it as he deepened the kiss. Wow. Oh wow.

Her heart was beating so hard she half wondered if he could feel it through their clothes and her breast. She didn't want to leave, all of a sudden, which made no sense-they couldn't stand out here, not like this, not forever.

But....wow.

He pulled away and she finally remembered to breathe, looking flushed and a little dazed, a hand against his chest for balance. "Birthday?" She repeated dreamily, a matching sort of silly smile on her lips. Then she blinked, colored further, and gave a soft laugh.

"Oh, right-my birthday!"

And then they agreed to have breakfast again next weekend, and make their plans then. He walked her to the street corner and helped to hail her a cab-and with a dazzling smile and a cheerful wave of her hand-she was gone.

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Mistress Rush was bad business. Tall, sadistic, and shapely, she was dangerously beautiful and had never worked an honest day in her life. Why would she? She was so very good at taking what she wanted. Laura and Rachel were both women, and they were both speedsters. That was where the similarities stopped.

Rush had never given a damn about anything or anyone but herself since day one. The world was a stage and its inhabitants just actors-she was the only thing that was real, in her mind. Perhaps that was what made her so good at killing-an utter lack of remorse. Sometimes she did it in contrived, cruel ways, other times she was chillingly simple and efficient-driving the flat of her hand through the chest and ripping out their heart to the horror of bystanders. That never really got old. Or vibrating their body along with hers to force seizures or death.

And Laura, Laura was a goodie two shoes out to ruin her good time. Her selfless act and hero talk made her gag. But the shimmering blue heroine's horror with her actions-well, that at least, had been entertainment. Most of all, Laura was one of the few who could keep up with her-and Rachel hated her for it. Didn't like the competition of a female speedster in her spotlight. Half a decade after her removal, she was no more keen on the idea-especially not from some little upstart appearing in New York, wearing her old rival's costume. That stuffy damned thing.

Her costume was a thinner, sleeker material than Velocity's-there was no high collar on it, that was for sure. The purple, almost latex material looked practically painted on her toned ass and thighs, leaving little to the imagination. She had always been rather...gifted in that respect, along with her full chest. Even more so than Laura, and she loved to display it-her suit was low cut, split roughly down to just above her navel, the material tight against her skin so the whole thing didn't balloon out when she ran. A gold chain spanned the gap between the two sides at her throat. She wore a black gloves and wedge heeled boots, giving her a few more inches to her already impressive height. Her mask was a black half cowl, her long blonde hair braided beneath it.

She was back in town.

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Jenna had missed the news before she went out for the night, having had her nose to the grind stone finishing yet another paper, and doing some review for an upcoming exam. She had about died when she saw what time it was. Still-had to put in a few hours, in the very least-see what all there was to see.

Like this asshat trying to rough up a little old lady, or this would be pimp threatening his girlfriend. Jenna didn't employ a lot of violence-mostly, she made them look like idiots and left them for the cops once their victims were safe. Small time things, but good things. Things that still mattered even in the larger scheme of things.

She couldn't save the world, but she could help the little guy, as much as possible.

Jenna had resolved to head through the Bronx when something cut across the road ahead of her. A blur that was gone before she could try and focus on it, see it. What the hell was that?

Turning the corner sharply, Jenna saw the blur move THROUGH a wall in what looked like an abandoned building. She stopped short, staring. She should go. If it was anything moving that fast, she probably shouldn't go near it.

Really shouldn't.

But what if they were up to something? She couldn't ignore things just because they might be dangerous...that was the opposite of her job.

Jenna zipped to the building and reappeared next to it, pressing her gloved fingers to the brick wall the blur had seemingly phased through. Nope, solid brick. Frowning, she moved along the wall and tested a window. Unlocked. Perfect.

She slid it up with some effort, and then the petite heroine slipped inside, careful not to make a sound as she crept through the building after the mysterious blur.
 
Sleuth reactivated the sensors at either end of the street. Rush's base of operations left more options for her to move around town than Velocity's, but a few nights work years before yielded a similar coverage of the area. Of course changing batteries was a bitch.

Rush' base had seen better days, but then hadn't they all. The first few rooms were abandoned or boarded up, but the back door was still open. A large four post king sized bed dominated her bedroom. The walls were painted burgundy and a large map of New York was spread across the city, along with several news paper clippings of Mistress Rush greatest heists. In many ways this corner of the room was a shrine to her. Of course there was also a spot for Velocity's murder, which left Sleuth wondering.

The other side of the room was dominated with a cabinet containing all manner of BDSM toys, which Sleuth knew could be used for sex, or torture, or both. Sleuth didn't like to dwell on such memories.

A door led into a small closet. Stacked within the closet were three boxes of files and papers. One on top of the other. Sleuth ducked his head and slipped into the closet. It wasn't too much of a squeeze, but didn't allow him a lot of space to move about. He'd removed the lid to the top box, and was about to start going through files, when one of his sensors went off.

Crap. She was here.

He replaced the lid and moved to the door. A moment later the alarm went off again. This time from a different sensor. What? How could Rush be in two places at once, unless. Oh shit...
 
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A belated symphony of creaking, stressed stairs and the sudden fluttering rush of papers in the room announced her presence, the buxom villainess in purple coming to a stop in the whirlwind of newspaper clippings and papers, catching hold of one and giving it a look. Huh. Barely remembered that one.

Rush gave a shrug and then the paper was left hanging in mid air as she blurred away from it, out the opposite door and up the spiral staircase to somewhere else in the dilapidated building.

It was a few moments before smaller speedster entered the room after her. The second Velocity was moving a lot more cautiously. She had crept up the stairs as stealthily and painfully slow as she could, listening hard for the mysterious blur to make a return trip. She wasn’t exactly sure what she thought she was doing, but here she was...doing it. Holding her breath, Jenna peeked her head into the bedroom. No one was there. Oh. Good.

She slipped inside the space and kept her ears open for noise, her attention on the large map on the wall. Articles and articles about various heists and thefts, a few high profile murders. Mistress Rush…? Jenna felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as her eyes slid to the clippings involving Velocity’s murder and funeral.

Okay, yeah, that was creepy and suspicious as hell. And Rush was a speedster. She was fucking fast, and from what little Jenna knew of her-crazy. And now she was in...or back in New York? Fuck.

Jenna heard a noise upstairs and backed up a few paces, hesitant to just straight up flee-Mistress Rush might hear her and catch up. Jenna wasn’t sure just how fast the other woman was. But she knew she had been a rival to Laura, so...probably pretty fucking fast.

She’d just sneak back down the stairs, out that window, and fire up that damned computer pronto, figure out just what Laura had known about Rush and what she should do, because she had to do something. Especially, ESPECIALLY if Rush had killed Laura!

A rush of creaking floorboards upstairs in the direction of the spiral staircase sent a bolt of adrenaline through her. Adrenaline, and a healthy dose of fear. Jenna zipped the few steps to the small door behind her and opened it without looking, intending to hide until the woman had passed her by-and then no doubt flee after.
 
Sleuth's right hand tightened on the handle of his blade. The floor boards creaked and a shadow moved in front of the cupboard door. The knife would be useless against Mistress Rush, but it still gave him a small degree of comfort.

The door opened, but it wasn't Rush it was the brat. 'Sleuth breathed a silent sigh of relief. She glanced in the cupboard, but failed to initially see him. Her eyes went back to the roof where the sounds of movement were coming from.

Sleuth was no speedster, but that didn't make him slow. His left hand clamped over her mouth, and his right dropped the knife and snaked around her waist. Velocity started to struggle but he pulled her into the closet with him and hissed into her ear, "shhh, it's me."

It was too late, one of her legs flailed and struck the door. The force swung the door fully open. It rebounded off the wall and then sprang back slamming shutting with a resounding bang!


Both suits froze. Sleuth with his back to the boxes of files, and velocity pinned between his body and the closet wall. The back of her head rested on his shoulder, Her firm arse cheeks nestled in his crotch, and His left arm was still wrapped around her belly.

Neither could hear any more sounds coming from
Upstairs.
 
The image of a trap door spider was sharp in Jenna’s mind as she was hauled inside the closet faster than she could process it, a large hand clamped down over her lips and a second around her waist. One of her own hands was wrapped around his wrist and the other tried to pry his fingers away, the smaller woman easily lifted off her kicking feet-the slam of the door following on the heels of her temporary ‘abduction’.

”It’s me!”

Oh, well BY ALL MEANS THEN! Jenna’s panicked, muffled noises shifted to more angry protests-but she too had gone still and now silent, listening hard for noise from upstairs, her heart pounding. The darkened space and who she was sharing it with might be distracting-she was pressed between his warm body and the wall, how in the hell did she keep finding herself so damned close to him?!-but there was no way Rush hadn’t heard her, heard them. They were both going to be in serious trouble if she found them. And why wouldn’t she find them? It wasn’t the most secretive of spots.

After a moment the symphony of stairs sounded again-someone rushing down the spiral staircase impossibly fast. A pause, and then someone moved around in the room outside the closet. For some reason, the slower footsteps set her more on edge than the fast ones. Sleuth would feel the heroine’s body tense as she held her breath.

After another long, long moment-the villainous speedster left the room and raced down the second set of stairs. Perhaps she'd gotten what she had come for. Maybe the noise had unsettled her. Jenna wasn't sure. But it sounded like she was gone. She finally released the breath she'd been holding, her face coloring a little as their positions finally struck her-the warmth of him against the entirety of her back, the close quarters...

Jenna tried to move, a slight shift of her hips and shoulders that briefly pressed her more into him before she relaxed again, tried to turn around instead. "I think she's gone." She whispered. "What the heck are you doing here? Nearly gave me a heart attack, Gadget!" She hissed.
 
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Sleuth sighed with relief, realising for the first time he'd been holding his breath. Of course now he was acutely aware of how he was holding Velocity. The smell of Vanilla and sweat filled his nostrils. Damn she smelled good. No, bad. Don't think about that.

She shifted a little, unintentionally pushing her hip into his crotch. The edge of his hand and arm lightly brushed the underside of her breasts. It was impossible not to enjoy the contact, even if he would rather it was with someone else. He could feel a rush of blood and excitement flooding the lower part of his body.

What the heck are you doing here? Nearly gave me a heart attack, Gadget!

"Shhh, I'm not 100% sure she is gone."

He listened for a moment his thumb still resting on the underside of her boob. Her moved his hand down a fraction so it was resting on her belly. He couldn't move his arm too far because his elbow was jammed against the wall and if he moved it much further down he'd be brushing against her pubic region.

" I was Trying to keep your ass safe. Speaking of which can you move a little to your left." Damn he could feel a semi erection coming on.
 
“I’m going to move A LOT to my left-” She whispered angrily, trying to slide out from between him and the wall-and bumping softly into the door with her shoulder instead. They weren’t as far inside as she had thought-probably because the closet wasn’t all that deep, she wasn’t sure.

“If she’s not gone, what is she doing? There's nothing downstairs.” She whispered worriedly, feeling for the door knob, acutely aware of his proximity. “Why is she back? She hasn't hurt anyone already, has she?" She was nervous about Rush. She was...she was scared of her, actually. Speed was the only edge she had-and if Rush matched or exceeded her own, what could she do to stop her? She bit her lower lip softly, feeling for the knob.

But she couldn't find it. It wasn't on this side of the door, but the opposite-and she couldn't reach far enough behind her because he was there-Jenna tried, but he was too big and too in the way.

She flattened a hand against the wall and managed to twist around with some effort-mostly because she was small and in a suit meant to reduce friction. The large hand that had been on her stomach was now on her back, no less warm than before. She wasn't sure this was much better-maybe worse, because now they were pressed together chest to chest. Well, chest to upper stomach, anyway.

"Can you...can you back off? You’re kind of standing on top of...on top of me, here.” She murmured, feeling her face get even hotter as she tried to press herself flat into the wall-but there just wasn't any room to get away from him, on her side. They were too close. Much, much too close.
 
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Before he could protest Velocity started pushing, twisting and contorting her body around. Limps and soft flesh brushed, pushed and teased him into a raging boner. Her breasts heaved against his stomach and he could feel and smell her breath of his face.

His hand was on her back now, but he had a little more space now and he allowed it to slide to her hips. He could feel the swell of her buttocks at his fingertips.

Can you...can you back off? You’re kind of standing on top of...on top of me, here.”

He stared down at her and didn't say a word. He wanted to do what she asked, but it was like he hadn't heard the words, but rather the voice she had used to say it.

Running on pure animalistic instinct and without warning he was kissing her. Rather than retreat he surged forward with his body pinning her harder to the wall. Both hands gripped her waist harder pulling Velocity's hips toward him.
 
It was like she’d spoken a trigger word. Suddenly he was on her, stealing her breath away with a searing kiss. Shock and surprise left her briefly defenseless, her hands coming up on his chest but not applying any pressure even as he leaned into her, flattened her against the wall.

An intense, returning surge of fire made rational thought impossible, even as she initially tried to somehow scurry back away from him. Somewhere she knew, she knew better, but that fire was rapidly burning through any sort of good girl reservations in the dizzying rush of everything, his chest crushing her softer one and his mouth dominating hers.

Jenna was shocked, but Velocity was kissing him back with an intensity that was utterly foreign to her. THIS was foreign to her-he was a stranger and they were in a freaking closet in a villain’s base and-but that was somehow part of it, the ‘badness’ of it. Her hands had fisted against his chest, the fabric of his trench coat caught in them, twisted up. His hands tightened on the flare of her hips and he pulled her closer into him, the unmistakable evidence of his arousal felt even through her costume, an involuntary, small noise that was muffled by his mouth on hers.

Holy shit. Holy shit!
 
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Her response seemed fed his own fire, making it burn hotter. His hands grasped her buttocks now, and his mouth moved to her neck- kissing, biting, devouring her. He explored from her shoulder up to her ear. His teeth seized on her earlobe gently nipping and pulling.

Then he was on the other side of her neck, wanting to dominate it as well. A soft growl building at the back of his throat.

He pivoted his leg forward taking the weight of her against his hips, the bulge in his pants thrust into the apex of hers. A hand travelled from her hip, up the inside of her body and his fingers brushed the side of her tit.
 
She felt like she couldn’t breathe, or couldn’t breathe enough. Too hot, much too hot a-and she shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be here at all but-

Jenna shivered as he nipped at her ear, and it was a shiver that went from the base of her neck and spiraled all the way down her spine, gave her goose bumps. She tilted her head instinctively, allowing him access to the sensitive, tingling skin of her throat as his lips brushed over it.

Her fingers were much more hesitant-but they did loosen on the coat to smooth up and over his shoulders-briefly hating the gloves for being yet another piece of separation.
 
Sleuth took Velocity's lips in his own again, and once more their tongues danced. His hand moved from the side of her breast, under her arm and snaked its way up her back to her zipper. With a light tug it slid down exposing inch after inch of her delicate skin. Velocity murmured in his mouth, but didn't break from the kiss.

He wanted her, he wanted her so much that it was over riding his ever instinct, or so he thought. From down stairs there was a loud crash.

Rush.

Mid-kiss they froze, the fire of their lust, suddenly extinguished by the ice from their fear. She was back, if indeed she'd ever left.

Still with lips locked, for neither dared to move they listened. How much noise had they been making? Would Rush be in the room, and find them like this. Sleuth could just make out Velocity's eyes through her goggles and they were wide with fear.

They waited, but heard nothing else. Sleuth pulled away slightly, his breath escaping in slow pants. He pulled her zipper back up and stepped away giving her space. Each held their breath. Was that a noise? No. Sleuth licked his lips feeling awkward and embarrassed.

"Do you think..." he started but...
 
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Him going for the zipper tugged at her-it sent both a little thrill and a bit of anxiety through her. And then the crash finally brought her to her senses, and it wasn’t a nice trip back to reality. She felt...dirty, and not in the perverse way she had minutes before. The worst sort of girl, the kind of girl she hadn’t thought she was. She turned her head to break the kiss, trying to catch her breath-and felt even sluttier as he stepped back, her boots touching down again, his hand zipping the back of her suit back up. Slutty, and a little bereft now that he wasn’t pressed up against her and...whatever he had been a second ago.

What was wrong with her? She didn’t know this guy. He didn’t know her. The only things he could possibly be here for were physical. The only things SHE could possibly be here for were physical! Shame flushed her face and all she wanted to do was run away, and not just because a murderous villain was in the house. She was...she was better than this. Didn’t she like Anthony? He was so nice and charming and seemed to genuinely like her-he wanted to take her out for her birthday. His kiss had been just as exhilarating, had sent her home in a daze. She thought about him embarrassingly often, when she should be studying and ONLY studying. What was she doing in a closet with a man she barely even knew, had been on the verge of…?

Jenna suddenly felt a little like she might cry.

But she hadn’t started this. Sleuth had kissed her and she had just...just lost her head. It wouldn’t happen again. She wouldn’t let it happen again.

"Do you think..."

“Obviously I don’t.” She had no idea what he had been going to say, but she found herself answering in a slightly cutting, matter of fact tone that was unlike her.

Sleuth would probably hear the note of self loathing in her voice. A tinge of disappointment and regret, as if she was ashamed of herself. Maybe this sort of thing wasn’t typical of her-she seemed young. Bit inexperienced, even if she wasn’t a bad kisser.

And then there wasn’t a nubile young woman in a shimmering blue costume so very close, anymore-just a suddenly open door and empty air.

///////////////////////////////////////

“Slinking about Sleuth?” Mistress Rush had called out, her voice a beautiful velvet. She knew he was here. He had to be. “I’m flattered-coming for a visit so soon after my arrival?” She had moved through most of the lower levels, and was making her way back up, slow and lazy, rolling her hips as she walked.

Rush was a taller woman, 5’9 with long, shapely legs and a proportioned form to match. She knew how to move, to display it, too. “Don’t be such a poor houseguest-greet your hostess proper-!.” What the hell?!

She barely dodged a globe, HER globe, being lobbed at her head and traveling faster than anything Sleuth could have thrown. In its wake was a rush of air and the belated sound of the stairs-and then she was struck hard in the back, no doubt by those damnable silver gloves she detested so much.

Rush’s eyes narrowed to slits as she flitted forward, turned to face her enemy. Not Sleuth after all, but the girl. She wasn’t sure if she was furious-or disappointed. She would opt for both.

“You little bitch-” She snarled, sliding to a stop and getting a look at this preposterous replacement, the familiar shimmering blue costume mask, the gloves and boots. The goggles were new. All she could tell of the other speedster was that she was small but shapely, and that she had olive skin, a pert nose, and full lips. Definitely not a revived Laura then. Some young upstart.

An upstart with a rather determined set to her jaw. “You’re going back to jail, Miss Rush.” She said seriously. “The people of New York would prefer to keep their money out of your hands.”

Rachel laughed, and there was a cruelly amused streak to it. “Mistress Rush.” She corrected, drawing the whip off her right hip, sizing the new Velocity up and pressing her tongue to her teeth briefly. Bitch was fast, but then again-so was she. She’d find out just how fast, she was sure. "And I think you need to be taught a LESSON!"

And with a tensing of legs and bodies, both women started for each other again.

////////////////////////////////////////////////

The noise had been intermittent-crashing, sounds of outrage from Rush and sometimes laughter-and pained noises through grit teeth from Velocity here and there, one or two quips about Rush being late for a ‘client’. Both speedsters were dusty from what their movements had kicked up, and both stood panting, Rush glaring at Velocity as Velocity blurred in place off and on, holding her right shoulder and bent slightly forward.

Rush’s already scandalous costume was torn, the chain at her neck broken, her cowl ripped off her head. Her whip was hanging from a rafter. Each of her purple suited thighs had a small boot print on them.

Velocity had fared worse, but by how much wasn’t immediately clear. Given how Rush liked to toy with her 'toys', it would probably only get more dire as time went on. She was the only one bleeding, for one-she had an abrasion on her left cheek and the the lense of the left goggle was cracked, her lip cut and bruised. Her hair was roughed up and she ALSO bore a few high heeled boot marks to her shimmering blue suit.

Her right arm and thigh had clearly been hit with the whip-but the thicker material of her costume had held and prevented lash marks.
 
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What the fuck was she doing? Sleuth gritted his teeth, there was only one way this could end. Or was there? Maybe just maybe.

Sleuth slipped out of the cupboard and leaned against the wall while the two speedsters flitted about the room. A few seconds later they stopped each eying the other up. Velocity had gotten her licks in, but Rush had the experience, and killer instinct. Sleuth's knives were useless against Rush, but that meant they were also useless against the brat.

Sleuth chuckled loudly, and clapped his hands. "Marvellous, more, more." With a cocky grin he turned to Mistress Rush. "I have to confess, I am completely disappointed. They'll let anyone put a suit on these days." He said cruelly with a laugh. He turned back to Velocity "what are you, like 14? Go home kid, you can't beat her, and you certainly won't be able to beat both of us. You should go home before you get hurt!"

He caught the blue heroes eye and then threw the blade directly at her heart. He just prayed he was right and she was fast enough.
 
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