James popped in some backing powder and soda, smiling. "I have to mix this." He smiled warmly at her, mixing in the liquid in slowly after adding water and milk.
"I have no desire to taste any of that," she admitted, watching him mix the ingredients with a smile on his face. God, his smile was nice. She shook that thought away. "How much longer?" she said in a childish voice.
"Well, once the oven preheats I put it in a brownie pan and it'll take twenty minutes. In that time we can wait for it to cool and finish our dinner! By the time we're done we'll be able to enjoy the brownies," He hummed excitedly, still smiling down at his bowl.
Nyir lightly clapped her hands. "Great! Who needs alcohol when great friends who make brownies exist?" she joked.
James giggled at her joke and pawed some of the mix into the pan he got out. "Do you wanna lick the bowl?" He asked, offering it to her with a smile.
"Hell, yes," she said, grabbing it quickly and burying her face inside of it. She cleaned the bowl quickly, although now her nose was covered in both flour and brownie mix. She grinned at him. "If you aren't careful I'm just going to eat the brownies before you put them in the oven."
James giggled at the mess on her cheeks and nose, wetting a rag and cleaning it carefully off of her face. "There we go, all clean. Thanks for cleaning my bowl, but I think I wanna try a couple brownies when they're done." He took the bowl from her and started on some dishes, humming.
She smiled, following him over to the sink. She could feel her face warming slightly. She located a towel. "You wash, I dry?"
"Sure, that sounds good." He washed a bit of grime off of a plate and handed it to her. "I kind of wanted to try and make butterscotch tomorrow. I think it'd be good for us to try."
"Butterscotch," she repeated, drying the plate slowly. "Is that like toffee?"
"You don't know what butterscotch is? It's a hard candy. Kind of like caramel."
"Hey, don't get an attitude," she laughed, poking him. "When you first got here, you didn't even know what coffee was."
James giggled at her poke, poking her back with a big finger. "I love butterscotch, though, you should try some when you go out again."
"I guess I will," she said. "Oh, wait! Is butterscotch in butterfingers? Like, the candy?" She figured that there wasn't real butterscotch in butterfingers, but they sounded similar, so maybe she was right. Suddenly, her phone went off –the phone she kept in her Chaser costume, the one the police and other superiors used for emergencies. She frowned, heading over to where she kept her suit and withdrawing the phone. "Sorry, I gotta take this."
"Hello, Chaser?" a voice said once she picked up.
"Speaking," she said, her voice steely.
"This is police chief Landon. I'm calling because we have a hostage situation–"
"Let the police handle it."
"No, you don't get it. The suspect is asking for you, specifically. And for some guy named Sniffles."
She stayed quiet for a moment, then sighed. "Fine. On my way." Putting down her phone, she headed back into the kitchen, much more serious and subdued than before. "I gotta go, James. Hopefully I'll be back before the brownies are done."
(before I get carried away with plot stuffs, who pushed James off a building?)
(Um I was thinking like an outside hero corp. and he was doing bad for their numbers because he was killing their heroes, so they took the upper hand and did the same to him)
"Ye like the candy– Oh?" He turned and watched her talk on the phone, but didn't hear anything going on. He frowned a little at the news and nodded.
"Okay, try to be back for dinner. I'll have some waiting for you!" His face looked serious and somewhat upset to match hers, holding his spatula.
(Sorry it was short, I can't do much lol.)
(okie perfect –im gonna go ahead and apologize for the long response)
Nyir teleported from building to building, hurrying to the address the police chief had texted to her moments before. She'd never seen the chief use this particular number, but she didn't question it too much. Her phone was a secure line. All she wanted was to free the civilians, take down the suspect, and get home when the brownies were finished.
When she arrived at the site, there were no police cars to be seen. The building was a large warehouse, apparently abandoned. Immediately she was on edge, knowing without a doubt that the call was bogus. But who had gone through the trouble of making up a hostage situation? Who was able to get access to her secure hero line?
She teleported to one of the large windows and pried it open. In the center of the empty building, a man stood, wearing a mask. Although she'd been silent, he turned towards her and waved. Refusing to be startled, she dropped to the ground, warily approaching him. "Who the hell are you?"
"Chaser," he greeted. "I'm looking for someone. Name of Ior. Or James. Or Sniffles. Whatever the scum's going by now."
She refused to let herself react, forcing her mouth into a bored expression. "Ior? He's been missing for a while. Answer my question."
"I need to finish what I started," he continued. "I know you found him that night. I know you took him somewhere. Tell me where, and I'll let you live."
Nyir flashed her teeth in a half smile. "Let me," she repeated, amused.
He moved towards her, clearly thinking he'd be able to gain the upper hand by surprising her. She teleported out of the way, appearing behind him and jamming her elbow against the small of his back. His skin seemed to…sink in and absorb the impact. He whirled around too fast and grabbed her arm, twirling her roughly and then wrapping his arm around her neck. She scratched at him, kicking and flailing.
"Who do you work for?" she demanded, struggling.
He whispered in her ear, "The good guys. I know you have him, Chaser." His hand went for her mask. She forced herself upwards so that her head slammed against his chin, and he fell back. He withdrew a weapon, some sort of dagger, and lunged. She twisted herself to dodge but the blade sliced her side, sending waves of stinging agony up and down her frame. She teleported backwards, and then backwards again, until she was by the door.
"We'll be in touch," he said, watching her leave without making an effort to follow.
She didn't wait for him to try. She teleported as far as she could, hurrying away from the site and back towards her home, taking the longest and most complicated route even though the drip, drip, drip of her blood made every teleportation agonizing. She finally stumbled through the window.
(aaaahahhhh I cannot match this I'm so sorry for my stupidly small response.)
James had finished with dinner almost as soon as she left now that he didn't have any distractions. He plated some things and even made some rice to enjoy it with, then set the brownies in the oven once it finished. He set the plates on the tables and waited, hoping for at least an appearance.
And an appearance he got, as he heard clattering near the window. He hurried over, his hair fluffing back cutely as he went to greet her, only to be greeted by her red hands and the drops of her blood.
"Nyir! Oh my god!" He grabbed her in his strong hands and pulled her away to the couch, running to the bathroom to grab the medical kit and a needle. He hurried over and got down on his knees, ripping at her costume to start cleaning at the wound. She had showed him how to give stitches to someone, thankfully.
"I'm –I'm fine," she managed, trying to keep her eyes focused as she allowed him to escort her to the couch. He vanished for a moment to find medical equipment, but had returned in an instant and started on her wound. She took a deep breath, trying to steady the dizziness that was threatening to drag her into oblivion. "Lost more blood than I should've. Had to take the long way home tonight."
Her heart was pounding rapidly in her skull, partly from adrenaline, partly from shock, and partly from blood loss. Her anxiety was spiking as well. "Did you check the locks? On the door –and the window. Fuck, fuck, we're not safe, let me lock the window," she stammered, trying to stand.
(dnt worry about it im switching back to normal length responses lol)
"NO!" James thundered, pushing her back down and pushing a stitching thread through the eye of the clean needle. "Stay still, I want to get you sorted out then we can make this place safe. I don't want you losing more blood!" He started to swiftly stitch her up, pressing weight on either side of the wound to stop the blood. He finished quite quickly with the small amount of stitches and cut off the extra, grabbing bandages and wrapping it.
It took a couple minutes but he soon let her go. "I'll get you some ibuprofen." He crossed the room to lock the front door and trotted into the kitchen to shut the window and grab the medicine.
The moment he turned his back, she leaped back to her feet, steadying herself on the couch and letting the dizziness recede a little. She staggered to the door, checking the double locks and the dead bolt. It was firmly locked, but she still re-locked it, letting the click of the lock soothe her into a least a bit more of a sense of security. She hadn't felt this much blind panic in a long time.
Who was after James? Why? How did they know she was hiding him? Did they know her name, her address? No, they couldn't, or else they wouldn't have called her hero line. But how did they get that number? Only the police and the hero corporations had it. Had someone been paid off? Who? Why?
"Oh, God," she hissed, burying her face in her hands, raking at her hair. "I failed. I have to go back and hunt him down and make him talk."
James shut the window and closed the curtains over it, sighing. He hated when she was all panicky and wild with her anxiety. Not that he blamed her. He grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water, walking back into the living room and raising his eyebrows. He poked her with a pinky and gave her a few of the small red pills.
"Here. And dinner's ready if you want to eat with me," He murmured to her softly, touching her shoulder oh so gently. He clearly looked confused and concerned for her.
She pressed her lips together, looking up into his sweet, concerned face and then down at the pills. Somehow his voice cut through the fog in her head, forced her thoughts to quiet, forced her ideas to flow. She took another deep breath, softly rejecting the pills. "Dinner. Why not," she said flatly, her voice only slightly trembling. "I need to grab something, I'll meet you in the kitchen." She headed into her room for a moment before returning with a somewhat old cellphone in her hand. She handed it to him. "A burner phone. I'll put my number in. If you ever see anything suspicious –or even slightly odd, you call me. No matter what."
James watched her move around and he replaced the pills in the bottle, pocketing it in case she changed her mind. He moved to their meeting place and took the phone from her, looking down at it and turning the phone around in his hand.
"Alright. I… I'll call you for anything." Seeing what had just happened to her, he decided to listen. He'd call her for the strangest of things, even if it was just a strange shadow or a tap of the window at night.
"Anytime, day or night," she mumbled, sinking into a chair and leaning her forehead against the table. The wood was nice and cool, and felt amazing on her throbbing head. "Even if you're just calling to report that you've found a new dish to cook," she continued, her voice taking on some of its usual dryness.
James followed her, looking more concerned now. He dropped to her height sitting down and tucked her into a hug without any warning, curling his arms around her and resting his head on her shoulder. He was afraid he would've lost her.
"Drink, drink some water," He urged her, pushing the cup into her hands as he pulled away.
Nyir surprised herself by relaxing into the hug. Usually after a panic attack, her muscles would be stiff for hours if not days. Not this time. Something about his embrace made her less jittery. Either that, or she was about to pass out from the blood loss. The thought made her smirk. "I'm okay, don't sound so worried," she slurred, sloppily reaching for the cup and missing. "I'd take some whiskey though. No, I mean, a brownie."
James helped her move her hand to the cup and grab it. In fact, he even helped her move it to her face to drink it some. He was clearly concerned, but he smiled at her usual antics anyway. There was no use being a negative nancy.
"The brownies are still in the oven. My original plan still stays. Have some mushroom chicken instead," He gently urged, sitting down and starting on his own meal, smiling at her from across the small table.
She lifted her head weakly, her eyes struggling to focus on the mushroom chicken. "It smells nice," she remarked softly, her voice sounding strange to her ears. "I'm so tired." She picked up her fork, stabbed at the mushroom chicken, and then promptly passed out, her head resting on the table.
James went to answer, only to gasp and jump up out of his chair. He stood and grabbed her up out of her chair, carrying her to her room to tuck her in. He knew that her room was off limits, but this was an exception god-dammit. He didn't care if she was as angry as heck with him the next day for it. He leaned down and kissed her forehead gently before sneaking out.
Nyir awoke around 3 AM, her heart racing from nightmares, but her brain clearer. She glanced around, realizing that she was in her room. Stretching, she winced as her stitches painfully reminded her of their existence. She slowly climbed out of bed, wandering into the kitchen and gazing over at the couch, where James slept peaceful as a baby. Silently, she reached for her bottle of whiskey, only to find neatly cut brownies where the alcohol usually was. She chuckled lightly, taking a brownie and nibbling the edge.
