Currently Untitled- Chapter Two
Fic: Currently Untitled
Fandom: RPFS
Characters/Pairing: Many. Beyoncé, with a mention of Gaga in this chapter.
Rating: M15 this time, for violence. And the f word.
Word Count: This many
Disclaimer: Yeah, I wish I had control over the hottest female celebrities out there. Please don't sue me. I have no money. At all.
A/N: I remember reading a superhero fic involving some of the most awesome musicians I know of, however I can't find it anymore :( So I decided to write my own!
They snuck around the exterior of the house, scoping all possible entry points and security camera locations; ensuring that their faces were obscured by the baseball caps and bandanas. A noise- a bird call- echoed through the still night air and the thugs moved into position, sneaking through a window silently pried open. Their torches lit the dim interior of the place, revealing an extensive library and lavish furniture, candelabras and chandeliers draped with glass pendulums that reflected the light into hundreds of shards along the ceiling and walls.
“Aw yeah boys. We hit the honey pot this time.” A resounding chuckle from the others was the only affirmation.
“Spread out, find the safe and anything that looks expensive. Well... anything manageable.” Another chuckle. The five men separated, each taking a different room to loot. Their excitement grew and so did their carelessness the further they explored; and they lost their reservations, clumsily trampling around the first floor of the house with an air reminiscent to a child at Christmas.
It was the sound of shattering glass that awoke the lady of the house.
Thieves weren't entirely unexpected, she was practically a living advertisement for attempted burglary. However the thugs weren't aware of security measures that were liable to be taken in such an event. She sighed and pulled on a silk robe, treading lightly downstairs with a half full (or was it half empty?) glass of red wine she had abandoned before falling asleep. Leaning casually against the railing, she watched and waited for one of the five to notice her presence, idly tracing her index finger around the rim of her glass.
“Shit. Boss!”
Finally.
Four of them, the followers, workers, moved to run, but their leader halted them with a motion of his hand. He eyed her, taking in the curve of her hips, the swell of her breast, the skin that flowed from beneath her robe.
“She's just a woman, boys.” He stepped towards her, a predatory gleam in his eyes. “Ain't that right, dollface?”
She twirled a lock of her hair around her finger, looking up at him from under half closed eyelids, responding coyly; “Maaaaaaybe. Maybe not.” Another chuckle from him.
“She ain't gonna hurt us, boys. She's got nothing. We have the power here,” he lifted the crowbar he held. “And I think I'd like to have a little fun.” Dropping the bag of crystal glasses he had picked up, the leader advanced towards her further, reaching a hand out to grope her in some inappropriate manner.
“Hold up.”
She rested the glass of wine at the base of an elaborate statue that adorned banister at the bottom of the staircase. “Maybe a little fun wouldn't be such a bad idea...” She trailed off as she trailed her hand down his neck to rest at the base of his throat.
“Now that's what I'm talking about, baby.”
She glared up at him as her expression turned feral. “No, it isn't.”
The fireball formed in her hand faster than he had a chance to react, sending him flying backwards into an armchair with an impressive burn mark on his neck. The other four looked at each other before turning on their heels, dropping their bags and hightailing it towards the window they entered from.
“Hold up, little drones.” More fire, this time a rope, circled around the four and shepherded them back to stand in front of her. They each struggled a little, and each time the circle got smaller until it was almost singeing the hair from their bodies. “You can't just leave. We've just started having fun. You didn't think you could just steal from me and get away with it, did you?”
“Look lady, this is clearly just a big misunderstanding. How about you just let us go? We won't tell nobody nothin'.”
“How about no?” The ring of fire did disperse, however, and when the four once again made a bid for freedom they found themselves dodging a flurry of fireballs. The lady of the house hurled ball after ball with growing intensity until the remaining men were unconscious on the floor, burns covering their body.
“You.. fucking... crazy bitch...” She turned to see that their leader had woken up, his hands grasping at his blistering throat. “When... the cops... find out...” his speech dissolved into a series of rasping and coughing, his throat tightening and considerably impeding his breathing.
“The cops... aren't going to find out, you miserable pig.” And with that she walked over and delivered a swift right hook, knocking him unconscious once more and effectively shutting him up. Picking her way through the litter of bodies, bags and scorchmarks, she grabbed the phone from the hook and dialled her favourite number.
“Hey there, Gaga. It's your Honey B. Fancy coming over for some fun?”
Beyoncé Knowles may have been one of the most well known socialites in New York, but she doubted that status would remain if her secret was revealed. The result of that would be running, running forever... or the government. Again. She shuddered at the thought. Holding up her hand, Beyoncé watched as the sparks danced between her fingers, and wondered, not for the first time, “How did this happen to me?”