Mine (Zashi)

"Put him down - or else." Cheshire's striped purple tail swished angrily behind her. She'd caught up with the villain who had captured her partner, and was not pleased with the situation. Present Mic was bound securely to a chair in the middle of the room, a rather normal-looking man standing beside him.

The reason for his easy capture was clearly seen as the man didn't appear to have ears.

"Or what? You're a hero. Heroes don't do anything bad." He paused, then caressed the Voice Hero's cheek with an evil grin. "My hand seems to have slipped... I'm not sorry it did, though."

"Mic is mine," she growled in a deep, guttural tone. "Take your hands off him or I'll shred that stupid smirk right off your face." She flickered out of sight and her voice grew even more gravelly and low pitched. "'Not sorry' my ass, you think that's cute? You've pissed me off, and you're going to have to deal with the consequences without whining like a little bitch that I'm not supposed to act this way."

There was a pause, then a dreadful snarl. "I'll act how I want. Mikey!"

Mic blinked, his wonderfully expressive eyes showing his shock and mixed pleasure at her outrageous claim. Then he remembered the nickname she gave him was their agreed-upon codeword. He screwed his eyes tightly shut, wondering once again what he might see if he watched.

The Insanity Hero did what she did best.

The man eventually passed out with a trickle of foam running down one side of his chin, his eyes bugged out of his head. She checked to make sure he was really out, cuffed him with a zip tie and then unceremoniously kicked him out of the way.

"Bet you're fucking sorry now, bastard." Cheshire tore her paw gloves off, dropping them with a snarl. "And you're lucky I want to free him more than rip your fucking heart out," she added with a hiss.

"Mfft?" Mic's voice shook a little, even while gagged. He wasn't used to hearing her swear like that.

"Yeah. You can look." Her voice was more normal, more Elly instead of her Hero persona. She bent around him and struggled to unfasten his bonds, but he was tied firmly. Growling under her breath, she leaned closer and carefully chewed with her two fangs at one knot until it was weakened.

Mic wrenched his shoulders, breaking free with a grunt. The first thing he did was pull the cloth gag out, gasping as he did.

"I hate it when they mute me!" He rubbed with a grimace at his mouth.

Elly's eyes paled with distress. She touched the rashed corners of his skin with worried fingertips. The rage came back at his slight wounds, and she dropped quickly down beside her discarded gloves to take some deep breaths.

Mic glanced down at her and blinked. "Hey, baby, no. I'm fine - relax." He placed a shaky hand on the back of her neck as she knelt, panting and bent over. "See? No damage at all."

"Sh - shit. Sorry." She reached down and grabbed the villain by the hair. "Let's drop this scum off at the nearest station and finish up here."

The police station was very close. The cops tossed the drugged and frightened man into a holding cell and others started the more menial task involving the Heroes and case paperwork.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said those horribly possesive things." She coughed lightly under cover of her hand, turned and smiled at the cop at the desk who was staring at them.

Mic handed over the paperwork that covered his side of the takedown and then gestured for her to sit along a far wall.

"Man, fuck all that politically correct bullshit," he whispered in a low voice. "It was hot." He swallowed hard, then admitted, "I liked it."

Elly sat down in a chair with a thump, her eyes wide. "M - Mic, what?"

"I'm okay with my girl bein' protective of me." He looked slyly down his prescription sunglasses at her in a half squint.

"But - but I'm not -"

"Well I'm offerin' myself then I guess. If you wanna be."

"Oh!" She squeaked faintly and he held her wrist lightly in one hand, seeing as her gloves were back on.

"That a yes?"

She nodded mutely.

"After this is done, how 'bout we head somewhere we can talk in private?"

Talking was not exactly what either had in mind right away, however.

Because the teachers were now living in one of the dorms to better protect the students, they needed to book a room at a love hotel. Hizashi chose one that catered to Pro Hero fans, knowing the likelihood they may be taken for a couple of cosplayers rather than themselves.

Once inside they immediately embraced. Their lips touched and mouths opened on contact in unison, eager to taste the other and gently licking inside.

He not only smelled like leather and bubblegum-like hair products, but he tasted sweet as well. The overactive blond man had a love of sugar and caffeine. The result was a flavorful kiss that caused her to purr in delight.

Eyes closed, she ran her hand up his jacket, the battered leather and zippers rough under her palm, to the smooth expanse of his neck. Trembling, she reached further up. Soft, shorter hair fanned out along the back of his neck but higher was the solid mass only hair products and a lot of effort could produce. The blond tresses here were heavier, solidly packed like a rug but tacky. Their kiss broke but they remained close, foreheads touching.

"It, uh, gets sticky sometimes after I put in a lot of hours," he apologized with a sheepish chuckle after her fingers moved down again.

"It's okay," she murmured, eyes still shut. "I like it."

His green-gold eyes widened with surprise and he moved to hold her closer, tighter against him. His heart was beating so heavily in his chest he almost couldn't breathe. Hizashi's hands caressed her body and his kisses were lighter, gentler ... and near continuous.

No one says that about my hair!

No one did. Everyone either hated it or made fun of it, even his friends. They called him names like "cockatoo" and "banana man", and he knew it was mostly in fun but sometimes it hurt.

He liked his hair.

Of course he did; why the hell else did he style it that way? It took ages, not only growing it out but fixing it up every day. Not to mention washing it out and making sure to condition and take care of the blond tresses so they didn't dry out.

It was a lot of work, but it was a labor of love. And now it looked like she understood that love - shared it, even.

Hizashi trembled, a lopsided grin creeping onto his lips. She felt the curve of his mouth change and parted slightly.

"Zashi? You okay?"

He gasped at her use of his given name. "Better'n okay," he whispered fervently. "Is - is it okay if we just, yanno, uh..." He bit his lip. "I don't wanna jump too far, too fast. I kinda do that a lot but I'll be damned if I do that to us."

"I'm happy to just have you hold me while we kiss," she confessed.

"Ahhh, yer freakin' beautiful, baby," he sighed, his arms tightening around her.

"For now," she added impishly.