You Won't Suspect A Thing
“Okay, seriously, Domino, little Phil needs an intervention. She has been listening to Emilie Autumn for six hours!”
“Don’t exaggerate,” Jessica scolded.
“I am not exaggerating! Ask him!”
Clint narrowed his eyes at Lexi, but he ought to have known better than to give her the information she had been asking for in the first place. Still, someone facing the depth of trouble Phillipa was needed her friends. Also, that musician was impressively depressing. According to the internet she was bipolar, which did not bode well for his perception of her sanity. Phillipa was planning on singing something by her tonight. According to Lexi, that was well out of character. Little Phil might like the music, she had insisted, but Lexi was the one who sang it.
“Where is Phillipa?” Clint asked, rather than answer the spying implication.
“She’s getting dressed,” Jessica answered curtly. “Lexi, I want a word.”
“But I like living!” protested the smaller woman.
“Lexi!”
Rather than intervene, Clint leaned back in his chair and looked toward the entrance. Stark had sworn everyone would be there tonight, if only to see Phillipa. Of course, the inventor was not exactly happy with Clint, but neither was the marksman particularly happy with him. Some things were meant to stay secret, damn it. If the inventor so much as got within three feet of Phillipa without Clint being present, he was not going to enjoy the consequences.
So far, Clint had not seen Phillipa either. He was trying to pretend he ought to have expected it. But she was slipping. Ignoring the descent into despair could be fatal. She had already nearly killed herself once, with unexpectedly vehemence for such a timid girl. According to the team’s rumor mill, it had become a habit. Clint did not want to be the one to miss that detail again. He needed her to trust him.
Yes, he was spying on her. He had his orders, and he was not going to mess this up the way the Director had years ago. Maybe it was not socially acceptable, but the girl needed someone!
“If you keep doing that, your face will freeze that way.”
“Too late,” Clint told Natasha.
“I thought so. Could you be less of a gargoyle when she comes out? She’s already mad enough at us without having to look at your brooding face.”
Clint raised an eyebrow at her. Typically, she ignored him to look down at her cleavage as she adjusted her dress. All right, it was a sight to make the roof of any man’s mouth go dry, but she did not need to be distracting him- was that a tattoo?
“What’s that?”
“Temporary.”
“No, I mean is it a rose or-” Clint leaned in closer. “Really, what is that thing?”
“And here I thought you were just another robot,” interrupted Tony Stark cheerfully. “But, like the rest of us, you can’t wait to bury your face in a nice pair of tits.”
“She has a tattoo.”
“Really?” Tony started to lean forward, and then stopped. “Oh, no you don’t. I’m only interested in one set of tits at the moment.”
From by the stage, Lexi called, “Nice try, Tony, but she’s in the dressing room and can’t hear you!”
“Well, shit. All that hard work saying that with a straight face, right down the drain. It's enough to make a grown man weep, I tell you.”
“There is something wrong with you,” Steve noted, giving Clint and Natasha a nod.
Cheerfully, Tony agreed, “Yep. I don’t have a drink.”
As he headed off for the bar, Lexi came over with a tray and a huge grin. This probably did not bode well for Dr. Banner. There was something slightly terrifying about the girl, it was true. She had so much manic energy for someone so small. Then again, her mutant ability could be extremely useful for SHIELD- assuming that the Director could get over his intense dislike of the subspecies.
Speaking of cleavage, Clint caught sight of Echo at the entrance. Currently tastefully dressed, Clint had to wonder if she moved her jumpsuit zipper so far down at work just to throw off everyone who spoke to her. It certainly tended to work on Agent Clark.
As ever, Echo was with her fiancée. When or if she and Jen were going to tie the knot officially was an office bet of epic proportions. Some people had nothing better to do with their time. Besides, Clint had a solid $50 on the notion that if they did no one would find out.
“Can I get you something?” Lexi asked cheerfully, “Or are you busy ogling other women?”
“What do you have on tap?” he asked, rather than answer the charge. While she listed the beers and ciders, he took in her costume, mentally comparing it to what Phillipa might wear.
As usual, Lexi wore blue, but tonight it was more black than color. Her blue satin top was covered in a black lace overlay, with a white skirt edged in the same lace, with a sheer black top skirt gathered up to one side. To go with it, she had black boots full of exotically shaped cut-outs and ribboned stockings. He could just make out a garter shaped like a butterfly.
This, however, was just the start of her accessory list. As always, she wore gloves. Tonight they were elbow length, with a fine bracelet of dark metal on her left wrist. On her throat, she had a heavy choker, of the same dark metal as the bracelet with white cut glass gems hanging from it, plus lace to match the dress and ribbon like on her stockings as well. If that was not enough, she had an amazing blue feathered thing on her head, with more ribbon and lace, and a dark metal-edged white fake gemstone.
After choosing a dark beer to nurse, Clint wondered what Phillipa would end up in. The owner of the club had some strange tastes, but they were usually predictable. Still, it might be nice to see her in more normal clothing. Or color.
“Amazing fascinator,” Natasha murmured to him.
“Is that what that thing on her head is?”
Before she could reply, Stark came back from the bar looking like he had seen a ghost. He did not even make a quip. Natasha eyed him, and then leaned forward, displaying more of the tattoo, but not enough for Clint to make out what it was clearly. Pursing her lips slightly, Natasha asked,
“Something wrong?”
“Only my worst nightmare,” Stark groaned. “Have you seen who is at the bar, drinking with my girlfriend?”
Clint glanced over, and then let out a slow whistle. Firstly, he had not even been aware that Ren was friendly enough to drink with anyone else. Nor had he known that Pepper Potts could put away as much liquor as was suggested by the shot glasses in front of her.
“I don’t see what the problem is,” Steve said, taking a sip of his soda.
“No man should have to face both his girlfriend and his ex sitting together, drinking, and talking about him.” Stark put his head in his hands. “I’m doomed.”
“Who is doomed?” asked Phillipa. Along with the rest of the table, Clint looked up and stared.
More normal or colorful the gown was not. But it was stunning. Completely white, it was floor length and featured a train and impressively long, trailing sleeves. It had two necklines: one for the heavy white lace design than scooped around her collarbone to cover much of her chest and shoulders, and a sweetheart neckline for the actual dress itself. The white lace mingled with sheer white gauze on her sleeves, draping magnificently. Clint was no expert, but it seemed to him the sort of dress that someone made and retired on.
With her hair pulled back into an elegant bun, and her face carefully painted to maximum effect, Phillipa was definitely a vision. To make it more Gothic, so Clint presumed, she also wore a black gauze veil with delicately attached black butterflies. The overall picture was one he certainly would have liked to share with Coulson. Clearly she was developing a personality for her stage life.
“Well, I feel slightly less doomed,” Stark quipped. “You look fantastic.”
“Thank you,” she said, brushing the compliment aside. “But why are you doomed?”
“Oh, that.” Stark waved his hand dramatically in the direction of the bar.
It did the young woman credit that she did not demand to know what his gesture meant. Instead, like her father, her eyes narrowed as she considered the possibilities. Then she asked,
“Are you certain they’re talking about you?”
Clint snorted. “It’s a decent bet.”
Phillipa raised her eyebrows. “You’ve done something, haven’t you?”
“I’m not sure I like where this is going. But,” Stark sighed heavily, “I suppose sometimes even I can’t get a drink.”
A thoughtful look flitted across Phillipa’s features. Then she patted his shoulder lightly, saying with a hint of amusement, “You poor thing. Someone should help you out.”
With more than her usual grace, Phillipa turned and went to the bar. Elegantly, the train caressed the floor behind her, proving again that it was not so much a dress as a work of art. The men left behind kept staring, but Natasha chuckled. When Clint looked to her, she noted,
“No wonder she isn’t working the floor. That dress will pick up every trace of dirt and pack it along behind her all night.”
Having nothing to say to that, Clint took a surreptitious picture of Phillipa to pass on to Coulson when possible. His team was unavailable tonight- in fact, Clint and Natasha should also have been unable to come, given the substantial and sudden takedown of Centipede strongholds still underway at this very moment. If Phillipa was not being given such high priority by the director himself, she might have been on her own. But he did not want any accidents.
Phillipa came back with a glass of what was either whiskey or brandy. One whiff of the fumes suggested it was well-aged brandy. There was something in the glass that seemed oddly dark, but Clint supposed it could be an ice cube.
“There. I braved the bar to mix a drink for you. Wimp.”
Apparently relieved, Stark took a large swig. For a moment his eyes bulged slightly, but then he quickly swallowed. It appeared to Clint that his eyes were watering, but all the man said was,
“Wow, you certainly can mix up quite the drink.”
Tossing her head with a playful wink, Phillipa left to talk quietly with her friend Jessica. Neither Jessica nor Ren were working tonight, but it seemed that they, like the others, were keeping an eye on Phillipa. Well, Ren might actually just be drinking and preparing ammunition for later use against Stark, but there was no possibility of Jessica simply hanging around Dark of the Moon for entertainment.
“All right, what is in that?” Natasha demanded. Turning his attention back to the inventor, Clint found that he was turning a brilliant scarlet, but still drinking. When he came to the end of the brandy, he coughed drily, and then turned to Steve.
In a very strange voice, Stark said, “If I die, make sure to give Rhodes my hotpants.”
Natasha snatched up the glass and turned it this way and that. She shook it once or twice, focused on that dark shape still in the ice. Then she reached in and produced-
“A chili pepper?”
“A habanero,” she corrected. “Why didn’t you stop drinking, you idiot?”
“You may have answered your own question,” Steve pointed out, with unusual vindictiveness.
“Does anyone. . . have a slice of bread?”
Clint shook his head, but still stood up. “I’ll get you some milk from the bar.”
The bartender was new, and obviously more than a little swamped. Aware of a few of the club rules, Clint stopped Lexi from pouring a shot of Wild Turkey. She pouted, but the new girl did not even notice. No wonder Phillipa had been able to mix up something like that. Was she punishing Stark for something? Seeing that the bartender was behind on her orders, Clint stepped behind the bar, opened the small fridge and poured a glass of milk. He left the money under Ren’s steel water bottle, which he noticed a few of the more honest patrons were doing as well. It was a good thing Ren was equally honest, or she could turn a serious profit off the new kid.
Once Stark had downed the milk, he explained, “Look, I couldn’t tell her it was a little much. I mean, it’s her first drink. That’s an accomplishment. Why spoil it by telling her it was removing my taste buds? How much do I owe you for the milk?”
As the inventor opened his wallet, Clint waved it away. “Just learn your lesson and go up to the bar yourself, will you? Who knows what she’ll put in the next one?”
“Good point.” Stark removed himself from the table just as Lexi came back with Clint and Natasha’s drinks.
“Look, if you want me to bring your stuff out in any kind of timeliness, you’ll have to make some sacrifices,” she scolded the marksman. He grinned.
“I’ll pass on seeing you on the Wild Turkey at work. That’s not a sight for the faint of heart.”
Natasha drawled, “And you could label most of your customers that, easily.”
Shaking a finger at them, Lexi cheekily said, “But you’re not, are you? You guys are kick ass. So what’s the harm?”
“Not everyone likes to see grown men cry,” Clint told the imp.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” said his partner, sipping her wine. Giggling, Lexi went on her way. Strangely she had not even made a single remark in the direction of the doctor, nor even tipped him a saucy wink. He did not seem to have much to say tonight, either.
Clint took a mouthful of his beer and grimaced. “That new girl won’t last a night if she can’t tell the difference between light and dark beer.”
“Would you like me to explain to her?” Natasha offered. Chuckling, Clint reminded her,
“I don’t have anything to fear up there.”
He approached the bar with some caution, because there was quite a crowd, and some of them were getting a little restless waiting on their orders. Lacking Ren’s panache, the girl behind the counter was doing her best. At least she was not apologizing when handing out the drinks. Clint had just made his way to the bar itself when he saw Lexi squirm her way in beside Jessica, looking worried.
“Um, Domino, I kind of think Phillipa might be at DEFCON 2.”
“Calm down, Lexi. Emilie Autumn, even for six hours, is only DEFCON 4.”
Ren nodded from her right side, taking Stark’s shot. “It’s not like she’s listening to Disturbed. Or Korn.”
Lexi writhed, twisting her skirt in her hands. “What if she’s sort of, kind of listening to Skrillex? And it’s not a remix?”
“DEFCON Zero, achieved!” Pepper announced loudly, slamming down her glass. Clint could have sworn he heard Stark whimper, but that could be left over from the habanero.
“She’s on in a minute,” Jessica soothed the other mutant. “And there is absolutely no mention of Skrillex in the set list. Everyone has their moments.”
A glance at his watch confirmed Jessica’s claim. Clint might well have to do without his beer. Without Coulson’s team, no one would be filming Phillipa’s performances for SHIELD. Therefore, Clint was supposed to do it. When he fought his way back to the table, however, Clint had a surprise.
“Hi,” Skye said tiredly. She hefted a camera. “The boss said I could, since it’s technically part of our job.”
“Nice coat,” he remarked, settling in. She only gave a weak smile. If their operation had been so bad as to leave her without sass or enthusiasm, Centipede must be a tougher organization than he had realized.
Stark also came back to the table, with Ren on one side and his glass of brandy well out of her reach on his other. That probably would not last. With Steve and Dr. Banner already seated, their table seemed complete. Pepper was still up at the bar, but likely she would stay there all night, if she was on as much of a tear as it had appeared earlier.
The doctor pointed everyone’s attention to the stage, and the group turned to get a good view. Tonight the set featured a stone bench in what was probably meant to be a garden, although everything in it seemed to be dead. Cheerful.
“Dreaming comes so easily ‘cause it’s all that I’ve known. True love is a fairy tale. I’m damaged, so how would I know? I’m scared and I’m alone. I’m ashamed and I need for you to know: I didn’t say all the things that I wanted to say and you can’t take back what you’ve taken away, ‘cause I feel you. I feel you near me.”
Stark choked on his drink. “She is not singing- Ren, what’s the set list?”
Ren glared at him and said, “Be quiet, you twit. Or I will drink that drink too.”
“You don’t play fair,” Stark grumbled, but he subsided until after the applause. “You do realize she was just singing about rape, right?”
Clint felt his brows lift, but Ren snorted derisively. “It’s just a song. Will you please not panic over everything? And shut up, because she’ll be starting her next one and I happen to like it.”
After the second one, the Emilie Autumn song that Lexi had claimed was so uncharacteristic of Phillipa, Clint had to admit there was something about the theme that made him uncomfortable. She was not being medicated any longer, but SHIELD had tried it once with abysmal results. Starting to feel slightly concerned, Clint nevertheless had to wait to confirm his worries. Was it only art, or was Phillipa trying to warn them off? Was the real fallout of her discovery of the first of SHIELD’s lies still yet to come?
***
It had to be tonight, as Skye had told her boss when she pleaded to come to the club, even if she had to go alone. After everything they had been through as a team in the last two and a half days, Skye was not going to chance missing out on finding out for certain just what kind of mental state Coulson’s daughter was in. If it was worse than she thought, they would need to scramble. Wasting the evening could only put her in more danger, and Coulson.
So far, the music was not helping Skye’s perception of Phillipa’s mental state. She knew very well Ren was deflecting Stark with her sarcastic replies to his concerns- nobody needed him stampeding in like a herd of cattle. All the same, he was not entirely wrong. The music seemed to have a message, and tonight’s theme was betrayal. The question Skye wanted answered was what Phillipa would do about it.
Therefore she wormed her way into the dressing room after Phillipa’s third song. Occupied with picking at her food, Phillipa did not notice her at first. Awkwardly, Skye rocked from one foot to the other before finally saying softly,
“Um, Phillipa?”
Skye threw up her hands defensively as Phillipa stood up. “I know you probably don’t want to see me, or at least you’d like to yell and curse at me, and I totally get it. But, and I swear this is true, I had no idea about your dad dying in the Battle for New York. Nobody told me.”
“You work for SHIELD.”
“Yeah, let me tell you, they do not believe in passing information around, like, at all. Well, okay, our S.O. is way chill, but you should see him with his robot-face on. It’s like asking a brick wall for directions. I promise, Phillipa, I wouldn’t have kept something like that from you. It’s probably why they didn’t tell me.” Since she was on such a roll, Skye could not help adding, “Well, that and I’m not even an agent yet.”
“You’re not?” Phillipa asked, starting to relax.
“No. I want to be. I mean, they do good things for a lot of people. But I’m just a contractor- kind of like somebody they go to for certain stuff they don’t do as well.”
“Hacking,” Phillipa said flatly, and Skye knew enough to just nod.
“It’s what I do.”
Twirling her fork in her fingers, Phillipa asked, “Why are you here, Skye?”
“Because I was worried about you. Lexi told me what happened, and I asked some questions about it, because it made no sense at all to me, and when I found out I was scared. I know you’ve been through hell, and that kind of lie can cut more deeply than anything else. I know that, Phillipa, because I’ve been through it too.”
Seeing that she had her interested, Skye gave in and explained everything: the orphanage, the foster homes, the broken dreams, and that hideous document that cut right into her soul. Had she had parents or someone, anyone, to care about her at all? Was there someone out there who was looking just as hard she was? She knew too damn well how Phillipa felt, being pushed and pulled around by SHIELD, and she trusted her team.
“So you don’t know anything about it?” Phillipa wanted to know, in that caring way she had that was so very much like her father.
“Not yet. I mean, bits and pieces of maybe, but nothing definite.” Skye sighed. “They’re looking, not me. And if I want to know, I have to let them do it.”
“How can you let them pull your strings like that?”
Thinking of all she owed her teammates, Skye said simply, “I trust them. They’re not going to hurt me. It’s such a weird thing to feel. I mean, even when I was going out with this guy that I thought was totally awesome, I still held back. Turned out I was right to, but I didn’t think I knew how to trust. And suddenly, I’m not scared of letting them take the wheel. I mean, I want to know- I need to know. But I’ll take their schedule if it means someday I’ll know, because they promised I would.”
Phillipa sighed. “I thought I knew what that was like too. Turns out I was wrong.”
Gently, Skye patted her shoulder. “Don’t give up, okay? I know it sounds lame, but things will turn around. It did for me.”
Watching her face for any sign of hope, Skye wished very much that she could really spill all of the truth. But she had to hold back, at least until she was sure that Coulson was okay. No matter how broken by this deception Phillipa might be, Skye wanted to give her back a father who was not equally damaged. Two broken people could never make a whole one.
***
Domino watched Phillipa shake out her skirt and sigh. “It’s like being a Swiffer, I swear.”
“That makes you the prettiest one I’ve ever seen,” the mutant said gently. With Phillipa so frail, she was working hard to keep her in balance. Considering tonight’s vocal selections, this was not an easy task.
“All the same, bling will not make me any less of a mop.”
Before Phillipa could move to further wallowing, Ren stuck her head in the door. She was not, surprisingly, wearing her glasses. This might have been down to the fact that she was- very likely- more than a little drunk. Half in and half out of the room, she told Phillipa,
“Good job burning off Stark’s taste buds. Now he’s complaining I have to kiss him more because it’s only half as fun.”
“What?” asked Phillipa and Domino in unison.
Sliding through the door completely, and trailing Lexi, Ren explained, “That drink you gave him was cruel and unusual punishment, especially considering it was you and not me. Nice.”
“But- but you said that high-class drinks have peppers in them!”
“Chili peppers whole, maybe. Habanero slices, even. But not the whole habanero.” Ren snickered. “And he drank all of it, the idiot.”
Mortified, Phillipa looked pleadingly to Domino. “Habanero peppers are sweet, aren’t they?”
“But also very hot,” Domino said. “Why didn’t you ask- what’s her name? The new girl?”
“Emberly- and no I am not making that up, Ren. Maybe she did, but that’s what she told Jay,” Lexi insisted. “She’s totally swamped, Domino. And Clint says Stark nearly expired drinking the whole thing. He left his hotpants to Rhodes.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?” Phillipa wailed. “I could have just gotten him a brandy!”
“He’s an idiot,” Ren pointed out, settling in on the ratty couch. “A surprisingly good in the sack idiot.”
The other three women turned to look at her. Aside from being uncharacteristic, it was also just plain weird to hear the mutant say. Lexi noted, “You are SO drunk.”
“Not as drunk as Pepper Potts- although, you guys, seriously, if that was my name, I would fucking shoot my parents.”
“Anyway,” Lexi chirped, “Jay wants you to hop up on stage and be gorgeous again, Phillipa. You know, ‘cause you are so good at it.”
“You know the more you guys compliment me, the less I believe it.”
“Well, I prefer you in blue,” Lexi agreed as she escorted Phillipa out. “Blue is just such a perfect color, right?”
Domino frowned after them, but before she could leave, Ren sat forward and said somberly, “Domino, Stark’s found something.”
“About what?”
“Not what, about who. Our little songbird. And don’t ask me what, because I have been asking Pepper all night and now I am fucking drunker than a skunk and I still don’t know. Except that she is pissed as hell about it. I guess you’d better do something about it, though, because whatever it is, it’s bad enough that Pepper is going to Paris tomorrow, and leaving Stark with nobody to replace her. So, you know, it seems pretty amazingly bad.”
“I thought Jen didn’t want me to talk with you about confidential things,” Domino pointed out.
Ren snorted. “Not about things that she’s going to tell the Brotherhood about anyway. Come on, whatever it is will be all over the club by tomorrow. Especially if Pepper keeps drinking.”
“What do you want me to do about it?”
“Interference. I can just about handle Stark, but you have to keep Pepper away from Phillipa. Seriously, that woman is going to spill her gut to someone. She only has the one, by the way- what a pussy. Hell, keep her away from everybody if you can. If Stark is going to tell Phillipa, he’ll probably tell everybody.”
Domino thought about this. “No, they’ll stop him. But you’re right about Pepper. Fine, I’ll ask Jen to send her home. Don’t you dare get righteous about it; tonight is not a good time for another horrible revelation.”
Rolling her eyes, Ren retorted, “Righteous isn’t my style. Neither is stupid. Jen won’t ever agree to using the voice on a human.”
“Maybe she will for Phillipa’s sake,” Domino replied. “She seems awfully attached to her, I must say.”
Ren gave her the finger rather than rise to the bait. It was true, however. Something was going on, which was why Eric was so interested. If Jen wanted someone kept safe, there had to be a reason and Eric wanted to be in, so he said, on the ground floor. So far, the adventure was proving more than Domino would have ever guessed. She kept her reports to him to the bare facts of what she understood, because she did not trust him. Her loyalty was honestly to herself. Having been dragged through hell by humans, she did not want to turn out like them.
This did mean, however, that Domino was going to have to speak to Jen. To put it mildly, they did not get along. It was not that they disagreed on anything in particular, it was something about Jen herself that put Domino’s hackles up. When she was not too proud, Domino had to admit that her dislike was mostly down to fear. The fact that Jen could control her every action, and even her thoughts, brought up very unpleasant memories for Domino.
Aside from that, however, Jen was a damn stick. Not in terms of her figure- she was slim, but not without curves- but in terms of personality. Unlike her fiancée, there was no sense of flexibility to Jen. If she was any more rigid, she would snap. And she was so icily polite that Domino occasionally wanted to slap her just to see if she shattered.
Echo gave her a sweet smile when she saw her approach the table. Everything about Echo’s personality was the opposite of Jen’s- at least as far as Domino knew. She was loud, bright and welcoming. She even beckoned Domino closer.
Jen gave her a cool nod. “You are here about Miss Potts?”
Annoyed that she already knew, Domino said curtly, “She needs to go home before someone gets hurt.”
“Which is why I called her a cab and sent a friend home with her. She will thank you for your concern, of course, once she returns from Paris. I hope she will enjoy her vacation.”
Face tight, Domino turned to leave, but Echo caught her arm. “If you have a few minutes, why don’t you chat? Everyone else is busy, you see.”
“Strange that you came here tonight,” Jen noted. “You tend to enjoy your free days with Pietro.”
Icy, nosy bitch, Domino thought. “He’s busy.”
“A pity, to be sure,” Jen said calmly. There was no telling exactly what she meant by that.
“We were talking about the benefit concert,” Echo explained. “Do you know any decent musicians?”
“Why would you want my opinion?” Domino demanded.
Coolly, Jen told her, “Just because I seem to disapprove of the. . . company you keep, does mean I disapprove of you personally, Domino. I learned that lesson from watching the X-Men. Now, do you know any musicians, or shall we discuss something else? Something that is bothering you, perhaps?”
“Why did you choose Phillipa to be your pawn?” Domino demanded.
“And that would be my cue to get drinks,” Echo said, hastily rising. “Need a beer, Domino?”
“No,” the mutant said, eyes on Jen.
Calm as always, Jen nodded to her fiancée. “Another glass of the white. Try Lexi instead of Emberly.”
The moment she was out of earshot, Domino repeated her question. “Why Phillipa? And why did you use the voice on her when you say you never will?”
“I did not,” Jen told her, one eyebrow raised.
“You had to! Phillipa would never be so damn stupid.”
“Is it foolish to care about those who have been left behind, Domino? Well, I shall take note of your feelings in that regard.”
“This is not a game, damn it,” Domino snapped. “She does not need you meddling with her life, you interfering bitch!”
Both brows went up. “Meddling? Really, Domino, don’t be so dramatic. I asked her, and she consented. The choice was her own, and I honestly resent the implication that I would do something so heinous as forcing her into this benefit.”
“Why ask her at all?”
“Because she is the best possible candidate? Don’t be so dense, my dear. We both know her past-”
“Some of us better than others,” muttered Domino.
Jen did not answer that charge. “And she understands all too well how the Morlocks feel. Since I cannot coax any of them to represent themselves here on the surface, I felt Phillipa would be an excellent analog. However, if you dislike this situation so much and if you are indeed the friend you pretend to be to her, I must ask why you have not said so to her yourself. After all, is that not what friends are for?”
Furious, Domino could hardly speak. “You-”
Almost like a viper, Jen leaned forward and hissed, “Do you really think I am blind? You report her every move to Eric, and repeat to him anything she tells you that is of note. Phillipa knows that Renata speaks to me about her, because Ren would never be so foolish as to deny the fact, but you hide your own activities. If you want to be deserving of the title of friend, you should do her the courtesy of telling her the truth about your own past, Neena.”
Shocked, Domino could think of nothing to say. She had not realized that Jen was keeping such close tabs on her. Of course, that was the spy’s curse: watch, but never forget you are being watched in turn.
Sitting back in her seat, Jen said more normally, “In any case, the next time you think to charge me with something of that nature, do try to have some proof. Otherwise you look a fool.”
“Your drink, madam,” Echo said cheerfully. “And yes, in spite of your warnings to be kind, I told Emberly that it was a stupid name, because: Wow. Don’t you think so, Domino?”
“It’s not the only thing around here that’s stupid,” Domino growled, getting up from the table. She was not going to sit here and be belittled by the queen bitch for what she had to do. What did Jen know about sacrifice?
On her way back to the dressing room, Lexi caught her arm. “Domino, there is a boy following me around and he looks very cute and he called me ‘Sexy Lexi’ without me asking and he wants my number and did I say he’s cute because he has a very nice ass and what do I do?”
“Give him your number?”
“Oh, but I don’t want to look easy. But his hair is just a little curly and it’s very cute- Kat said if I didn’t want him, she’d give him a ride so I said I did maybe, but gosh, Domino, how can I just give him my number?”
“You walk up to him and put it in his hand,” Domino suggested, slightly thrown by this behavior. Lexi was usually the one following boys around.
“But what if he was joking? I mean, he has very pretty blue eyes, but-”
“Is he a score-keeper?” Domino asked, as much to hush her up as to get the information.
Lexi shook her head so vigorously that her fascinator was in serious danger. “Nope. I asked around and everyone says he’s nice, but not interested. Only he asked for my number!”
“Well, where is he?”
“He’s over there- oh don’t look! He’ll know I’m telling you about him!”
Domino stared. “What is wrong with that?”
“You don’t think he’ll think I’m easy? I mean he only asked me fifteen minutes ago.”
“You have been letting him hang on your answer for fifteen minutes and you want to know if he’ll think you’re easy?”
Lexi wrung her hands. “I should make him wait an hour, right? But what if he goes home?”
“I- are you feeling all right?”
“Well, if you must know, I’m feeling rather hot and bothered- did you see the muscles on him. Whew!”
Since she just had to know, Domino asked, “But what about Dr. Banner?”
“Oh, him,” sighed Lexi. “He won’t give me the time of day, and you know? His ass isn’t that great. The Hulk, now, he has a fine ass. But without Dr. Banner, there’s no Hulk. So, it’s hopeless. And he’s never called me Sexy Lexi.”
How soon we learn, thought Domino. “Well, what’s this new boy’s name then?”
“Jonathan,” swooned Lexi. “Isn’t that a great name? Goes with his ass. But I really can’t give him my number so soon, right?”
“Lexi, do not make me give him your number,” Domino said, and regretted it at once.
“Oh, but that’s such a wonderful idea! Then, you know, you can look at him too and tell me if he’s really that dreamy, or if I’m crazy and being a floozy. And I can be a lady and just wave.”
“Fifteen minutes from now, you two are going to be in the supply closet,” Domino grumbled.
“But that’s forbidden, Domino. Double forbidden, because it’s Ren’s place now. Please take him my number! He’s so cute, I just can’t say anything!”
Doomed, the older mutant took the slip of paper over to the patron. He was not bad looking, as Lexi had hinted. Those brown almost curls were rather devastating for Lexi, Domino knew. Lexi had never been quiet about what she liked in a man. Only now that it came down to a boy who was interested in her, she was all nerves. Who knew?
“Excuse me,” she said, but he was already standing up. One point for good manners.
“No, pardon me,” he insisted and now Domino knew exactly why Lexi could not speak to him. He was British and Lexi died for accents. The last time had been when a health inspector from Russia had been through. For her own defense, Lexi had barricaded herself in the dressing room and refused to come out. Something about gushing from all the embarrassing places.
“Lexi wanted you to have her number after all,” Domino settled for saying. His whole face lit up.
“Really? I feel so honored. Everyone told me she loves to flirt, but I feared I had said something amiss.”
“Trust me, you didn’t,” Domino assured him.
“Do you suppose- no, I probably should stay here. If she wanted to talk, she would come over, don’t you think?”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Domino growled. She grabbed his arm and hauled him over to Lexi. “Would the pair of you just get ON with it?”
She left the pair of them to it- either they would nail each other within the next ten minutes, or they would spend all night staring at each other awkwardly. Whichever it was, Domino was all out of fucks to give. Phillipa was on stage, and actually being called back for an encore, and damned if Domino was going to miss it for crap like this!
Of course, Stark had to call her over to the table, asking after Ren. When she told him so far as she knew, Ren was still in the dressing room, he looked uncomfortable. Well, he should! The dressing room was a no-fly zone during working hours- in other words, no penises past the door. Jay came down heavily, all two hundred pounds of him, on anyone in violation of that rule.
“Look, there’s something I wanted to discuss with all of you, after Phillipa goes home, if you could stick around? Also, could you please promise to do nothing to my body that Ren wants to do first?”
“Yes, fine, whatever! Could I maybe listen to the song? God, what the fuck is the matter with everyone tonight? The full moon is on freaking Sunday!”
Now everyone at the table was staring at her. Damn it. She huffed and took a seat, listening grumpily to Phillipa sing “Take the Pill.” One of these days she was going to live in the middle of nowhere, with a laser grid and mines all around her property. She’s pay money to see the crazy people get through that!
Phillipa came down directly from the stage, smiling that wan little smile of hers. “Hey Domino. Where have you been?”
“Don’t ask, please,” Domino groaned. “You have your ride home?”
“Yep. And Lance said to tell you that his balls will be safe from you, because he’s not into that sort of thing- which I really wish he would just tell you himself, because yuck. You’re hanging around?”
“Someone has to make sure that Lexi and her new boytoy make it out of the club, at least,” Domino explained, telling a partial truth.
“Boytoy?” Dr. Banner asked. Whoops.
Phillipa was already looking for Lexi. “Oh, is that Jonathan? Kat said he was cute. And very intrigued by Lexi. But why aren’t they talking?”
“Some things even the gods can’t manage,” Domino muttered.
Puzzled, Phillipa seemed ready to ask what that meant, but the table wanted her attention. Skye gave her a big hug and got a real smile in return. Maybe Phillipa was not so tired as she appeared. Even though they clearly did not expect it, the others were hugged also. No matter what Domino thought of the little spy, she certainly seemed adept at opening doors between people to bring them together. Clint said something in Phillipa’s ear, but she only nodded in reply, so Domino did not know what they were talking about.
“Okay, I meant it when I said hang out,” Stark insisted when the others started to gather their things. “And we should all brave the dressing room to get Ren.”
“Chicken,” Natasha quipped, giving him a sidelong glance of amusement.
“Or, you could get her. No one could possibly accuse you of having the wrong equipment.”
“If you want her, you should get her yourself. Otherwise she might get the wrong idea,” she replied.
“I want to offer you so much money to prove it, but I also am very attached to certain bits of me that would enjoy it, but suffer later.” Stark sighed. “She’s probably passed out anyway. Domino, if you would pry Lexi from her new plaything, I’ll get my girlfriend.”
“How long are you going to keep using that term?” Clint asked.
“I have twenty bucks on her socking him within the hour,” Skye said cheerfully. “Tell me how it goes, will you?”
“You do? I have fifty on the next thirty minutes,” Steve told the hacker.
“I have such lovely friends,” Stark muttered.
Domino opened her wallet. “Twenty on the next fifteen.”
“You are all trying to kill me!”
Spinning him around, Domino said, “If I can get Lexi over to the table, you can bring out Ren. Don’t make me lose money.”
Ignoring the laughter behind her, she headed on over to Lexi and Jonathan. They had not progressed beyond awkward eye contact. Rolling her own eyes, Domino grabbed Lexi around the waist.
“Excuse me, I need to borrow this.”
It was a good thing Lexi weighed so little, although she never seemed as light as Phillipa. Domino wondered if anyone else had noticed that. Hopefully Stark’s news would be quick, because Lexi was starting to squirm.
“Domino! I was almost going to talk to him, I know it.”
“Right. And the ice caps were almost going to melt all at once. Save your play-pretty for later. Stark says he has news about Phillipa.”
“We’re also taking bets as to when Ren is going to punch Stark for calling her his girlfriend,” Natasha told the little mutant. Skye had not stuck around, as her earlier comment had suggested.
“Oh, can I have twenty on the next ten minutes?”
“I told you. It’s a conspiracy!”
Ren glowered at the billionaire. “Do not make me win all their bets.”
“But-”
Before Ren could disembowel the inventor, Domino cut in, “You said you had important news about Phillipa. Could you just spit it out already?”
Sighing, Stark ran his hand through his hair. “Well, I’m sure Clint and Natasha will murder me anyway, but I don’t know how much they know, or SHIELD knows. I’m sure, though, that Phillipa doesn’t know, so I need to know if I ought to tell her. I mean, she’s been through a lot just lately.”
“Could we come to the point?” Ren demanded.
With another sigh, Stark told the group, “Phil wasn’t Phillipa’s father. But there’s more to it than that.”
“Before we come to that, how do you know that Phillipa isn’t Coulson’s daughter?” Steve angrily wanted to know.
Shrugging, Stark said, “Oh, you know, I took some of her DNA from that bottle of juice she left and tested it against Phil’s. They’re not a match, at all. And that was weird. Most people match an allele or two-”
“Hold on,” commanded Dr. Banner, coming out of whatever trance he had been in since Domino had exposed Lexi’s new crush. “You tested Phillipa’s DNA without her consent?”
“Yes, yes, I broke the law- is anyone surprised? No? Good. I wanted to know why she looked so much like Phil. Nobody but nobody looks exactly like their parent, especially not in a father to daughter situation.”
“Can I hit him?” Ren asked. Clint checked his watch.
“We’re still well within Lexi’s time.”
“Seriously, why does everyone want my girlfriend to hit me- Ow! Ow! No, look, not the face!”
After Ren had finished the pummelling, Stark continued, from his new seat on Dr. Banner’s other side. “If I could finish? That wasn’t all I found out. And I really think she needs to find out before someone else does.”