Colors and shapes, and the blur of frantic people blended in slow motion around Spike, running alongside Marcy Diamond and Cian. PAs and arena staff shouted commands. The crackle of walkie talkies was a distant din. Suddenly, the bright halogen of the hallways leading to the dressing rooms and lockers. On the floor, right outside a door with the placard 'White Tiger', a group of civilians and spellbreakers (Colt included) gathered around a fallen man in a security uniform.
It wasn't the heavy set grunt Spike and Cian had duped before. Likely, it was his boss. Spike froze to the spot. When it came to general knowledge, he was sorely lacking (most of the time), but his impulsive nature had its benefits...namely, jumping into action when needed. But now, there was nothing he could do. Nothing to life. Nothing to break.
Still, after several months of working alongside some of the most talented magi and non-magi alike, Spike had learned to stand back and trust the capabilities of his peers. Shit, I knew I should have taken LiuLiu's first aid training course.
The young woman in Colt's entourage, her double braids now pulled back behind her, administered CPR. Her face was focused, serene, controlled. Nobody but Kengo dared interrupt her. Opposite her, Spike's enormous roommate knelt and offered direction. Of all the people spellbreakers present, he was the most qualified to lend support. He looked towards Spike, but his eyes moved to the person coming up behind him.
"Grant!" Iggy gasped, as a stagehand threw out an arm to stop them from advancing. Iggy glared at them, but relented.
Before Spike could ask how Iggy knew the security guard, the young woman tilted her head up. "This isn't normal cardiac arrest. This was magickally induced. The magick has run its course, thank Goddess, but we need to defib. Now."
Spike thought to volunteer to fetch whatever she needed, but before he did, a loud, "WAIT," stopped him to the spot. All eyes went to Colt, presiding over the drama.
The young woman looked at him, her facial expression changing several modalities in rapid time. "Of course..."
Though he was normally shy and tempered, Kengo was quick to act in a crisis. "We need an AED," Kengo said firmly to his boss."
"I am an AED," Colt snapped back. He motioned for everyone to step aside. "Unless y'all want a jolt, clear the area." Nobody questioned the storm magi, who was capable of conjuring electricity. Colt brushed back his long hair and leaned forward, opening the fallen security guard's shirt. He placed his hand on his chest, and closed his eyes.
"Tryin' to find out how much voltage he needs," Colt explained, softly. His commanding presence alone turned the tension down a notch or two. "Everyone's heart beats differently." He opened his eyes and moved one hand to just below the man's ribs. "Okay," he said, eyes momentarily flashing yellow. "CLEAR!"
The man on the guard bolted up, eyes wide open, and expectorated onto the ground in front of him. Everyone drew back in shock, but Colt kept control of the situation, taking the gasping, sputtering man back down to the ground and positioning him safely.
Everyone holding their breath finally exhaled.
"You're alright now," Colt said, soothing him.
Even though he'd just quite literally come back from the brink, Grant forced himself to speak. "Don't know..." He pointed to the dressing room. "Someone was in there...wasn't supposed to be."
"Just relax," Colt said. He looked over his shoulder, at White Tiger, still in his spellbreaking gear, coming up from the other end of the hall.
"Medics are here," he said.
Colt's arched his shoulders. The shift between soothing father and angry thunder god was sudden. "What took them so Goddess-damned long!"
"They were attending to a false call at the other end of the casino," Joseph said. He narrowed his eyes.
For a second, Spike thought Joseph was throwing Colt's anger back in his face, but that wasn't it. He looked between the two men. Whatever silent telepathy he and Colt exchanged, it was serious and in agreement.
"Damn it..." Colt said. "That's mighty sus."
On the floor, Grant winced. "The big guy in the gold mask...I just assumed he was one of your guys..." He pointed to the opposite corridor where, presumably, this person had been standing.
"Is that the guy who did this to you?" Colt asked. At the end of the hall, a thunder of footsteps announced the coming of the medical staff.
"No," Grant choked.
Kengo looked at Colt with great concern, worried the strain might hurt the guard further, but Colt held up a hand. "No. Let him talk. He's a tough one, aren't ya Mr. Partridge?"
The kind words elicited a weak smile from the struggling guard. "He told me someone snuck into Tiger's room..." Grant said through his teeth. He was saturated with sweat, and his dark skin was pallid gray. "Didn't have time to argue. Someone was in there. I went for my gun. And then..." he strained. It was easy to figure out the rest. Whoever was in there was quicker, and they didn't need bullets. "Just...one touch."
Now, it was Marcy and the woman with the sunflower pendant who shared the knowing glance.
Spike, hands to his mouth in shock, stood back and let the professionals take command. His ears only perked him at Iggy muttering under their breath, right beside them.
"Just like my dressing room earlier..." the pink-haired spellbreaker said. "Something's not right here..."
The white-robed medical magi attended to Grant, dismissing everyone else. Colt's edict was for all assembled to take five, leaving Cian, Spike, and Kengo sitting on an upholstered bench out in the lobby, where attendees lingered for the last call at the bar. It was only for the look on the three young fighter's faces that prevented any fans from coming up to offer a congratulatory word or ask for an autograph. They didn't say much of anything to each other.
"I'll get us some water," Spike finally said, uncomfortable with the tense silence, and tired of feeling useless besides. He walked over to the concession area, but his eyes caught sight of a familiar face, standing just to the side. The young woman's hands clutched to her chest in deep worry.
The girl in lace and the sunflower pendant looked over at Spike. Her expression changed. Serene. Composed. Friendly.
"Hey there," she said.
Despite everything that had just happened, Spike couldn't help but smile. "Hey. I'm Spike." He wanted to add, are you Colt's girlfriend? But this wasn't the appropriate time.
"Nice to meet you," she said. "Sorry for not introducing myself earlier. I'm Lily. I've known Colt for a long time, if you were wondering. And Marcy is a friend as well. That was an impressive match of yours, earlier tonight."
"Oh." Spike turned red and looked away. "Impressively embarrassing, you mean."
"Hahaha, not at all." The young woman placed her hands behind her back. "Iggy is an interesting one. We Light magi don't normally lend our magickal talents to combat, but we can be tough as hell, you know."
"Well, I know now." A Light magi? Odd. She wasn't a spellbreaker. Certainly didn't look the typical fan either, though Spike knew better than to stereotype.
Before Spike could follow up, Lily lowered her voice. "You didn't happen to notice anything odd in you dressing room tonight either, did you?"
"You think I'm at the level were I'd have a dressing room?" Spike balked. But he shook his head. This wasn't the time to be a brat. "No. Not really. Iggy—the jerk who kicked my ass—said something about their room getting messed with too. Do you think...someone was trying to break in?"
Lily placed a finger to her lips. She had a way of thinking deeply before speaking, a concept very foreign to Spike. "I suspect that's exactly what happened. And I don't think it was a robbery attempt either."
"You'd have to be pretty stupid to try and rob a giant, buff, magickally enhanced fighter," Spike added, trying to be helpful.
"Or very powerful and confident in your abilities."
"Hmm. That's true." He was out of his depth, he knew. But something about all of this did bother him deeply, and not just tonight's incident. "Lily, I'm still kinda' new to spellbreaking. But there's been a lot of weird accidents happening lately."
She looked into his eyes. "Any common threads you've noticed?"
"I wish I could pick up one. But..." Spike scratched his head and winced. "I'm not the most observant dude in the world." Then, it hit him. "I mean, this is going to sound a bit silly seeing as their whole thing is being the bad guys, but Firebird Pro was here tonight and the night of this gala when—"
"Madame Zorn," Lily said, finishing his thought. "Yes, Colt told me. That's part of the reason why I'm here."
"Oh. Are you like...a detective?"
"Ha!" She smiled. "A detective of a sort, you could say. I study magick. Specifically, glyphs. And what you said about Firebird....hmmmm. Have you heard of Occam's Razor?"
"That the finishing move of some spellbreaker named Occam?"
Lily laughed, but the gravity of the situation returned to her. "So, it's the idea that the simplest theory is often the most plausible. What do we know of Firebird? Shady characters, for certain. And their president has his hands in all sorts of weird, Russian military stuff."
"Yeah, but dropping chandeliers on old rich ladies and trying to kill security guards...doesn't make sense." Spike's head hurt. He was already exhausted, and this much brain power and stress wasn't normal for him.
"Correct," Lily said. "So the question remains, 'Why'? That's what I'm trying to puzzle out. But, in regards to what happened tonight, I think whoever was in Joseph's dressing room was intending to do to him what they did to Mr. Partridge, but worse. And had Grant not been alerted by this spellbreaker in the gold mask, or whomever, they might have succeeded."
Spike felt himself go pale. That was a terrible thought. He still wasn't 100% sure what this girl Lily's deal was, or her involvement with Colt and the GSA, but she seemed like someone trustworthy. He really wished he could help her more.
"I should get going," she started, turning away. "I didn't mean to distress you."
"Wait," Spike said. He'd just remembered something. "That security guard said something about a guy in a gold mask. Sounded like he could be a luchador? I mean, who the hell else where's a mask like that? But there's no one on the card tonight who wore a mask."
"Hmmm." Lily looked off into the distance. Whatever her thoughts, she did not share them. "Las Vegas is a lot. I need sleep. Have a good night, Spike." She turned to walk away. "Oh, and can you say hi to Buck for me?"
Confused, but happy to have met someone nice, Spike smiled. "Sure thing."
"I can't believe I'm doing this..."
An hour or more had passed since the incident backstage. The original plan was for the whole gang to meet up and go out for celebratory drinks, but after what had just happened, nobody was in the mood for revelry. Most went their separate ways, back to their rooms.
Spike already knew sleep would not come to him tonight, and he didn't want to bother Kengo with his tossing and turning. He thought of getting a drink at the Dionysus Lounge, but his heart took him upstairs instead. All he knew is that he didn't want to be alone, but he needed to be with a certain type of person.
So, thoughts collided together like dominoes, and led him to the room in front of him. Spike hesitated. He bit his lip. Finally, he knocked.
"One minute," came the soft, sing-songy, slightly mischievous voice from inside.
I should run, Spike thought. But he forced his feet firmly to the ground. He held up his arm and sniffed it. That cologne Rosa suggested is really nice.
The door open. Pink hair wet from showering, and a a hand holding their pink bathrobe closed around their muscular body, Iggy Astro—rarely caught off guard—looked down in confusion at Spike from behind their pink glasses.
Spike hesitated. "Uh...hi."
Iggy sighed, and held their free hand against the door frame. "You know, not many brats like you have seen me in my glasses and lived."
Spike gulped. "But...you look really good in them.
Iggy narrowed his eyes, but smiled. "I'm listening." They sighed. "Well, what brings you here on this goddessawful night?"
A good question. One for which Spike still didn't have an answer. "I...about our match earlier."
Iggy shuffled, the fold of their robe breezing aside and getting dangerously close to revealing what was beneath. "Oh. That. Look, menino, I don't hold back anything, not even for upstart cuties like you. Do you want the truth of it? I'm not actually a dick. And while your little comment about my music was a bit annoying"
"I totally take it back, I was just—"
"AH, let me finish—you shouldn't interrupt people. Especially ones who can kick your cute—and I cannot stress enough the word 'cute'—bubble butt." They smiled, adjusting their glasses with the hand not holding the robe. "In this sport, there will be rivalries. There will be heat. It's hardly ever personal unless you make it personal. And sometimes, you will lose. You will lose badly. But that doesn't mean you're bad at spellbreaking." Iggy tossed their head back, smugly. "It just means some of us are better. Kidding! Oh, you are so adorable when you pout like that, Spike, it makes me want to hurt you all over again. But—and you will NOT hear this from most heels—you need to pick yourself up and keep fighting the fight. You are good at what you do. Frankly, I thought I was going to smear your cute face all over the ring and be bored!"
Spike blinked. He was out of his depth, yet again, but right now it didn't matter. He wasn't sure what to make of what he was feeling right now. Educated? Advised? Cared for?
"You...really had fun?" Spike questioned.
Iggy laughed. "Someone with a body like yours cannot possibly be that insecure." They reconsidered their words. "Eh. That was mean. Lady knows I'm a mess about literally everything I do, especially my performance, so I am one to talk. But this sport is a performance, kitten. That's all it is. So put on the confident face and give it your all. Just like you did tonight! My goodness, Spike, we are a lot of fun troublemakers, aren't we. I cannot wait to kick your ass again!"
Spike smiled, despite himself. It wasn't just what Iggy was saying, but their vibe too. They were a lot warmer and friendlier than Spike thought.
Before Spike could say something stupid to ruin the moment, Iggy took the lead instead. "Ugh, perhaps I am still in shock, or just bored again, but...I'd actually like to get to know you. You see, I have this thing for people who defy my expectations." He shrugged. "I thought you would be a vapid little diva. You are...hmmm...what is the English. Plucky." He made a face. "And flirty and sweet."
"Aww, I..." Spike scratched his head. He did not expect this turn of events.
A moment passed between Spike and Iggy. The spellbreaker in the bathrobe opened the door slightly wider. "Well," they sighed. "Do you want to come in? I'm bored and weirded out by tonight. You're bored and weirded out by tonight. I don't want to be alone. Neither do you. Oh, and we're both very hot."
Spike swallowed. This...was happening? It had been so long. Had he gotten rust? What was he to say. "I...well..."
"You can say no," Iggy assured him. The pink haired hunk moved to the side, and—whether intentional or not—the fold of their robe slightly parted, allowing Spike to catch a glimpse of lay beneath. "But...I don't think you want to?"
It was a pretty damn big glimpse.
Spike's eyes widened. "WOAH." He liked the glimpse. He liked it very much. He stepped foreword, and tried to muster that old' sailor boy mojo. "I don't normally fall head over heels for heels, but..." he smiled. "I do like someone who can kick my ass."
"And kick it well," Iggy said, pulling Spike in tight (right between the bath robe fold).
Spike found himself pinned to the door frame, with Iggy's (near) naked body pressed against them. Iggy's lips found his. He kissed surprisingly soft. Tenderly. Their glasses made them look cuter too, which was a feat.
Spike allowed himself to breathe. Suddenly, he didn't feel so bad about losing any more. "What happens in Vegas..." Spike began, as the shut the door behind them.
To Be Continued!
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