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Prologue
Like everything else about me, my memory is pretty average. No perfect recall powers, no major memory loss due to getting hit with an experimental super-weapon. But there are some moments in my life that stand out. Important ones, like the day I got the notice saying my transfer to Oldport City was approved by the Villain Association. Or the time a man with a sharp suit and sharper smile watched me take a punch without flinching and first invited me into the world of villainy. Or the sickening feeling, years later, as I watched Morningstar crash and burn for the last time and realized I was going to need a new boss.
There are smaller moments, too. Less noticeable in the grand scheme of things, but still burned into my brain. The smell of spilled beer and fried food after a long day; the feeling of cold concrete under my palms; a laugh.
If I remember one thing for the rest of my life, I think it might be that laugh.
And then there’s this moment. One that starts out small, but doesn’t stay that way.
“Are you sure?”
I’m never sure anymore, not since the disaster that brought me to this city. But I feel pretty confident about this. “Yeah.”
“Okay then.” Xan looks down at me, smiling wider than I’ve ever seen. “Let’s get married.”
Several Months Earlier
I’m not sure what Vexation was trying to steal, but as usual they managed to fuck it up. Someone called the cops. The cops—as usual—put their single shared brain cell and enormous budget to work and called Mister Magnificent. Now Mister Magnificent is throwing cars at Vexation, and Vex is throwing energy bolts at him and shouting for me to help, and the whole thing is a giant mess. As usual.
So I do what any good henchperson would do: I wait until Magnificent’s sidekick lands, tackle him to the ground, and report to my boss for further instructions.
“Vex? Got a hostage for you.”
Vexation’s voice crackles in my ear. “Okay? What am I supposed to do with a hostage, I need backup!”
What they need is to stop picking fights with people who can throw them through a wall, but they aren’t terribly receptive to that kind of feedback. “It’s the sidekick, Vex. Tell him to stand down or his pink-haired protégé gets it.”
“The name’s Flamingo, you mmff!” The sidekick makes a bid for freedom, squirming beneath me. I sigh and shove his face into the grass. He’s lucky we landed on someone’s postage-stamp of a lawn—pavement hurts way more, trust me.
“I don’t care what your name is, I just want your boss to stop kicking my boss’s ass so we can all go home before I end up working overtime again. This is not worth the extra pay.”
Flamingo says “Ehra ey?” which I think is supposed to be a question, but I’m not letting him up to check. Vexation and Mister Magnificent have switched to hurling insults instead of projectiles, so I consider that a win.
“Jake,” Vex hisses, while Magnificent shouts about how crime doesn’t pay or whatever, “when I give the signal, throw the sidekick as far as you can and make a break for it.”
“That’s not gonna be very far,” I say, “because in case you’ve forgotten, I don’t have super strength.”
“Just do it!” The earpiece clicks off, and I swear.
“No super strength, huh? Could have fooled me.” Flamingo has his head up again, and I don’t care enough to push him down a second time. “What do they feed you at henchman training?”
“Wrestling team,” I correct absently, “and—oh, dammit Vex!” They’re giving the signal—which is a burst of energy beams in every direction and a shouted ‘GO NOW, JAKE!’ as they sprint for the getaway car. Which means I have to sprint in some different direction, even though I’m supposed to be the one driving. “You know,” I say, “maybe I should just keep you. I bet you’re less trouble than my boss.”
“Ha!” Flamingo’s laugh comes out ragged and a little breathy, like I punched it out of him. It stirs up a feeling I prefer not to have while pinning someone to the ground—at least, not in public. “Maybe you should.”
Okay, maybe I’m not the only one whose thoughts are going places they shouldn’t. Tempting as it is, I’m a good henchman. “Maybe next time.” I roll off him and onto my feet, not graceful but good enough, and run.
That should be the end of it. Another fight lost, another night of licking our wounds.
Turns out, it’s only the beginning.
Several hours later, I’m at my favorite watering hole—a bar literally called The Hole— whose staff and clientele have all mastered the art of minding their own business. It also gets terrible cell reception, which means Vex can’t call me and talk my ear off about the problems with their latest invention or their new scheme that is totally going to work this time, they swear . It’s a good place to hide.
“If I buy you a drink, will you tackle me again?”
But apparently not good enough.
I squint suspiciously at the pink-haired sidekick from earlier. He’s wearing normal clothes and a pair of glasses, but his slouchy hat is doing a terrible job of hiding his hair. “Not unless you plan to throw it on me. Or slip something in it.”
“Please. That’d be a waste of a good drink.” He slides into the seat beside me and signals to the bartender. “Piña colada and another of whatever he’s having, please.”
After the day I’ve had, I’m not really in the mood for pleasantries. “What are you doing here?”
“Getting a drink, is that not obvious?”
I snort. “At my bar?” I don’t think The Hole has ever seen such vibrant plumage in its entire history.
“I wasn’t aware you owned the place.”
“I don’t—look,” I take a deep breath, trying to keep my tone even, “I’m not fighting you here. If you want to pick up where we left off earlier, we have to take it outside.” I won’t let some sidekick ruin one of my few work-free havens.
“Oh, is that what we were doing earlier?” He props his chin on his hand, turning away to watch the bartender mix his drink. “What if I don’t want to fight? What if I’m here for something else?”
My memory helpfully supplies the breathy laugh from earlier, the way it almost seemed like he was flirting with me. I shove it down. “Like what?”
“Maybe,” he says, “I thought it would be nice to talk to someone who isn’t a fucking hero for once. Maybe have a few drinks and complain about my boss? Is that allowed?”
That…isn’t what I expected him to say. “What do you have to complain about? You work for the city’s knight in shining spandex. Everyone loves Mister Magnificent.” Well, everyone except for the Villain Association, but we don’t count.
“Sure. Everyone loves him, but none of them have to spend all day cleaning up after his swath of property damage. Or sit through his delightful motivational speeches.” He adopts a deep, jovial tone. “We’re not doing this for fame and fortune, we’re doing this for the people! Keep up the hard work, buddy, one day you’ll make something of yourself. Just try a little harder next time.” He shakes his head, grimacing. “Like. Come on. I’m thirty two years old. No amount of trying is going to make the Hero Corps promote me. They take one look at my power assessment and tell me what a good little sidekick I am.”
Oh. “Yeah, that’s…kinda shitty.” The bartender slides our drinks over, and I finish off my first one while Flamingo takes a sip. “Maybe I should have bought you a drink.”
He looks at me again, gaze sweeping over me in a way that is far too calculating for my liking. Normally, people don’t look too closely at me. One of the perks of being incredibly average-looking—brown hair, brown eyes, stocky frame covered with a layer of fat—and going around with someone who shoots off energy beams whenever they get excited. Whatever he sees, he doesn’t comment, just holds out his hand. “Maybe next time. I’m Xan, by the way.”
After a pause, I shake it. “Jake.”
Xan’s mouth twists into a grin. “Oh, I heard. Pretty sure the whole city heard. Your boss can’t aim for shit, but they’ve got pipes.”
I groan. “Dammit, Vex.”
“So tell me,” he says, “how did you end up working for Vexation? They’ve gotta be…what, ten, fifteen years younger than you? You didn’t just get into this line of work, but I haven’t seen you around.” That last part isn’t a question, but I hear the one he isn’t asking.
I won’t give him the answer he’s looking for. “Transferred. The local henchers union had a spot for me, and I wasn’t gonna turn it down.” I’m lucky they took me at all. It’s not my fault my old boss walked into a death trap, but some people act like it is. “It’s fine.”
“Fine?” He’s openly staring at me. “Really? That’s what you’re going with?”
It’s none of his business. I’m not here to satisfy his curiosity. It’s not like we’re friends. But I find myself saying, “Okay, so I’m babysitting the biggest dumbass the Villain Association has to offer. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
Xan shakes his head, grinning. “I knew you were more interesting than you’re pretending to be.”
I’m not, though. I’m an ordinary henchman, putting up with ordinary henchman problems.
“So, Jake,” he says, “How about a toast? Here’s to forgetting our shitty bosses for a night!” He tips his glass towards me, inviting.
This whole encounter has been weird as hell, but also kind of…nice? I’m probably not supposed to be fraternizing with the enemy, but whatever. It’s a one-off thing, I can go back to drinking alone some other night.
So I clink my glass against his. “I’ll drink to that.”
It’s not a one-off thing.
Like an annoying, candy-colored shadow, Xan starts showing up everywhere. In the produce section of the grocery store, asking if I want to go in on a buy-on-get-one-half-off blueberry sale. At the gym, wearing ridiculously tight shorts and a shirt that’s more “crop” than “top”. (He offers to spot me; I nearly drop a weight on my foot.) And he turns up at The Hole so often that none of the regulars look twice at him anymore.
“You’re late,” Xan says, sliding a plate across the table. There’s already a drink waiting there for me. “Help me eat these cheese fries before they get cold.”
I sink into the chair opposite him with a sigh. “I don’t remember agreeing to meet here at a certain time.” I didn’t agree to meet him here at all, but I’m pretty sure if I’d gone somewhere else, he would have been there instead. I’m starting to think he knows my schedule better than I do.
Xan rolls his eyes. “It’s Wednesday,” he says, like that explains everything. “What did Little V have you doing this time?” He has a whole list of nicknames for Vexation at this point, none of them flattering.
“So…we got beat down by a group of teen heroes today,” I admit, reaching for the fries, “and Vexation wasn’t happy about that.”
“Oh I know, I saw it on the news. Hilarious.” Xan grins. “I mean, not for you, probably.”
I shake my head. “Not for me.” It had been kind of funny watching Vex get called old and slow by a bunch of kids who were like, at most four years younger than them. But the aftermath…not so much. “I had to spend hours listening to them rant about how their next plot will be better. And then they wanted me to hang around helping them test their latest invention. And then, after they finally let me leave, they called me and I spent half an hour talking them out of doing another heist tonight.” I’d had to remind them about the overtime rules spelled out in my contract, and they hadn’t been happy about that, either. “They don’t seem to understand that I do have a life outside of my job, you know? They accused me of wanting to leave so I could ‘sit around and do nothing’.”
“Rude,” Xan says. “Clearly you had important plans tonight.” He gestures to himself, the cheese fries, and the bar as a whole.
“Shut up.” I take another fry—it’s colder than I would have expected, for how many are left. “Hey, why aren’t you eating these? You’re the one who bought them, and you’ve never met a carb you didn’t like.” Xan normally eats like a teenager in the middle of a growth spurt—his flight powers burn a lot of energy, supposedly. I think he just likes fries.
“What? Don’t be ridiculous, I’m eating them.” He takes a handful of fries and puts them in his mouth. “See?”
I do see. I see him wince as he bites down, the way he tries to be subtle about rubbing his jaw. “Why does your mouth hurt?”
“It’s just a toothache.” He picks up another fry and eyes it sadly. “Nothing to worry about, it’ll be fine.”
“Is that what the dentist said?”
Xan laughs like I said something funny. “Good one. Who can afford to go to the dentist? I’m only a sidekick, remember?” He shoves the fry in his mouth, winces, and keeps chewing.
I can’t believe it. “Excuse me? You guys don’t get dental?” It’s a standard part of any henchperson’s contract—as often as we get hit in the face, no way in hell any of us would do this if we didn’t get good benefits. “Please tell me you at least have health insurance.”
The way he stares back at me without saying a word speaks volumes.
“That’s bullshit, Xan. I can’t believe the shining beacons of truth and justice won’t even give you healthcare.”
“I mean,” he raises his hands in a helpless gesture, “it’s not like they don’t want us to have it, but the Hero Corps only has so much money and the real danger is above my paygrade—”
“Bullshit,” I repeat. “You work for them, right? That means they should take care of you.” I knew the sidekicks weren’t covered under the same contract as the heroes, but I didn’t realize it was this bad. “How do they expect you to survive like that?”
He slumps forward, resting his chin in his hands. “I don’t know. A lot of the others still have insurance from their parents, I guess. Or their spouse. The rest of us just have to hope we don’t get sick, or hurt.”
It’s so stupid. This shouldn’t happen, not to anyone—but especially not to someone like Xan, all sugary drinks and teasing smiles. Someone should do something about it. But the heroes are supposed to be the ones who fix injustice, and they’re the ones letting this happen.
Xan’s still talking. “Maybe I’ll get lucky one day and meet someone who thinks a second-rate sidekick will make a good trophy husband. I can dream, right?”
He’s joking, but his words give me an idea. Maybe this isn’t a situation that heroism can solve. Maybe this is a case for good old-fashioned villainy.
“I doubt anyone would mistake you for a trophy husband, but I do have an idea about how to fix your problem. If you’re interested.” It’s a crazy idea. He won’t be, I’m sure of it.
“Oh?” Xan pauses with another fry halfway to his mouth. “What are you suggesting?”
“Well, you said it yourself, you can get insurance from your spouse. And it’d be great to have an excuse to keep my boss from making me work so much overtime. So,” I can’t believe I’m about to say this, “you should marry me and get on my insurance.”
The french fry hits the table. “What?” I think he’s going to laugh, or call me crazy, but he just shakes his head in disbelief. “You…would you really do that? For me?”
Five minutes ago, I would have said no. If someone had told me yesterday that I’d suggest this, I would have laughed. We’re not even friends, really, just a pair of reluctant acquaintances who happen to run into each other multiple nights a week. Xan flirts with me, but he’s like that with everyone, all teasing smiles and easy laughter. But now…beneath the shock, he looks so hopeful. It makes me want to match his usual energy, even though I have all the flamboyance of a cardboard box.
“Xan,” I say, coming around to his side of the table and dropping to one knee, “will you commit insurance fraud with me?” I take his hands in mine, even though both of us are greasy from the fries.
“Are you sure?” His voice is barely a whisper.
I’m never sure anymore, not since the disaster that brought me to this city. But I feel pretty confident about this. “Yeah.”
“Okay then.” Xan looks down at me, smiling wider than I’ve ever seen. “Let’s get married.”
Getting married is a lot easier than I thought it would be. The movies make it out to be this big chaotic mess with a bunch of people you don’t really like and more flowers than anyone needs, but apparently all you have to do is fill out some forms and find time during the workday to go to a courthouse. One lunch break later, we’re on our way with a piece of paper declaring that Xavier Alexander Nathenson and Jacoby Andrew Keller-Edwards are husband and husband. Before we part ways to go back to work, Xan stops me and reaches for my hand.
“Here, put this on.” It’s a ring—plain, dark metal with a smooth finish. It’s too small for my finger, but Xan taps it gently a few times and it stretches, thinning out until it fits perfectly. “Material manipulation,” he explains. “I can only do it on a small scale, but it’s handy for stuff like this. Figured if we’re going to do this, we should look the part, right?”
I turn my hand over, watching the light play over the metal. I’m not normally a jewelry guy, but it feels…right. “I don’t have one for you,” I admit.
“Don’t worry about that,” Xan says. He holds his hand up next to mine. “I had some metal left over so I made myself one too. See? We match.”
His wedding band is thinner than mine, with subtle patterns worked into it. I would have expected something flashier. He’s right, though—our rings look like they belong together.
This isn’t real, I remind myself. We’re only doing this to save on dentist bills.
As it turns out, the hardest part about this whole plan is getting my new husband to actually go to the dentist.
“You really don’t have to come with me,” Xan protests, a week or so after we tie the knot. “I’ll be fine by myself.”
I fold my arms and lean against the parking meter. “Then why are you still sitting in the car?”
“It’s a nice car!” Which is a lie, it’s the most nondescript car I could find. He’s told me at least five times how boring it is, but he also doesn’t complain when I drive him places. “Plus I think my tooth is getting better on its own, I don’t even really need to see the dentist.”
“Uh huh.” I open the door and lean in close. “You keep saying that, but,” I grab his chin, gently, and then rub my thumb along his jaw until he lets out a yelp, “for some reason I don’t believe you.”
Xan pushes my hand away. “Jake! You’re so mean to me!”
“And yet you married me anyway,” I say, reaching across to unbuckle his seatbelt, “so you must like it. Do I have to haul you out of there, or will you come willingly?”
I’m not even touching him anymore, but his face looks red. “I thought you didn’t have super strength.” He runs his hand up my forearm. “But I bet you would haul me out of here, wouldn’t you? I’m kinda tempted to find out.”
I roll my eyes and ignore the heat rising in my own face. “I don’t need super strength to manhandle an overgrown toddler, you know that’s what I do for a living.” And then, just to prove I can, I hoist him out of the car and set him on his feet. “Come on,” I say, “we’re going to be late.” I grab him by the wrist and lead the way inside.
In the waiting room, I leaf through a magazine while the dentist does whatever dentists do to people who never get their teeth cleaned. It’s a very peaceful fifteen minutes before my phone starts buzzing. Only two people ever call me, and one of them is currently in no position to talk, so I know who it is without needing to look. “Hey boss.”
“Jake, where are you? I thought you would be here by now!”
“I’m at the dentist with my husband. I told you about it.” Granted, I told them when they were in the middle of covering a whiteboard with a convoluted bank heist plot, so they may not have been paying attention. But that’s not my fault.
“EXCUSE ME?”
“I am allowed to use sick time for family members,” I explain, flipping to a new page in the magazine. I wonder if I can convince Vex to pull a heist on one of those companies that advertises stupidly expensive watches; they keep interrupting the article I’m reading.
“Since when do you have a HUSBAND?”
Oh. Maybe I did forget to tell them something. “It’s, uh, kind of recent?” I glance at the receptionist—who has been doing a terrible job of pretending not to stare at me ever since I frog-marched my reluctant spouse into the dentist’s chair—and attempt to change the subject. “What did you need, anyway?”
Vexation lets out a screech of frustration, which would be more worrying if they didn’t do it on an hourly basis. When they speak again, their voice is calmer. “Well I was going to ask you to help me test the latest version of the energy diffuser, but now I’d rather talk about your secret husband. Who even is this guy?”
The screech must have carried across the room, because the receptionist isn’t even pretending not to stare anymore. I ignore her and sidestep Vex’s question. “Look, boss, you should probably think about testing it on a wider audience at this point. You know I don’t mind, but I’m pretty resilient.” It’s one of my few actual super powers. I can take a hit or three and not feel it the next morning, even if the hit is coming from a super-powered fist.
“Sure. I’d be happy to test it on your mystery husband. Bring him to the lair.”
That’s a terrible idea for several reasons, not least of which is that I have no idea what an experimental device would do to Xan. “He has to go back to work after this, but I’m sure you’ll get a chance to meet him soon.” It’ll have to happen eventually, I know. Now that Vex knows about this, they won’t let go of it. But the whole point of this plan was to get them to stop bothering me when I’m not at work, so I need to end this conversation. “I have to go, I’ll be back this afternoon.”
Forty minutes later, Xan emerges. I open my mouth to tease him about how long it took, but the words evaporate when I see how pale he is. “Shit, are you okay?”
“No!” He flings himself at me. I’m hard to shift when I’ve got my feet planted, so I just stand there while he drapes himself all over me and hides his face in the crook of my neck. “It was awful, I had to get an x-ray and so many fillings and he says I might need a crown. This is the worst!”
“Uh huh. And do your teeth feel better now that they’re not full of holes?”
Xan lets out a wordless groan.
I sigh. “Will it cheer you up if I promise to buy you a candy bar at the gas station on the way home?”
“Candy?” Xan perks up immediately. “You’re so good to me, babe.” He bounces next to me as we walk back to the car, all smiles again.
“Babe?” I say, when we’re out of sight of the office. “Really?”
He shrugs, unrepentant. “Did you see how the receptionist was ogling you? I wanted her to know you’re a taken man.”
“She wasn’t ogling me, she was wondering what kind of brute bullies his husband into going to the dentist.”
“The kind of brute who buys me candy, obviously.”
Despite Vexation’s near-constant pestering about my new husband, I manage to go another few weeks without telling them anything more than his middle name (“Alexander? How am I supposed to find his social media with a normal name like that?”) and his favorite ice cream flavor (white chocolate raspberry swirl). I also use him as an excuse to get out of several after hours work-related requests.
I can’t stay late to work on the heist plans because it’s date night.
Sorry, my husband is sick and I need to pick up some medicine.
Oh dear, I missed your seven phone calls and thirty-two messages because we went to see a movie and I turned my phone off.
It all works out great until one night when Xan and I are leaving The Hole, mildly buzzed and stuffed with cheese fries. He’s leaning on me, one arm draped across my shoulders while his other hand attempts to steal my phone from my pocket.
“I’m telling you, if you just look it up, you’ll see that I’m totally right and they were totally lovers—”
“Xan, for the last time, the moon landing was not a cover operation for the first gay wedding in space—dammit, what now?” My phone is buzzing, and before I realize my mistake, I’ve pulled it from my pocket to turn it off.
Xan pounces. “Ha! I’ll show you—oh! Hi!” He holds the phone to his ear. “Little V! I’ve heard soooo much about you!”
“Give me that.” I snatch the phone back and free myself from Xan’s clutches, depositing him on someone’s front step. “Hey boss, sorry about that. What’s up?”
“Was that your…husband?” Vexation’s voice sounds a little slurred too, but I can’t remember ever seeing them drink. “What did he call me?”
“Don’t worry about it. What do you need?” It’s too late to pretend not to notice my phone going off, so I might as well find out what they want.
“I need help. There’s…something…wrong with the getaway car.”
“What kind of ‘something’?” The getaway car is constantly breaking down; it’s inconvenient, but it’s just one among the list of annoying things about this job.
Annoying Thing Number One says, “It just won’t start! I don’t know, can you come fix it?”
Even if I knew anything about cars beyond how to drive one and how to take it to a mechanic for maintenance, I wouldn’t want to deal with this right now. “Vex, I can call the shop tomorrow to get it looked at, but I can’t—”
“What did they say was wrong with it?” Xan interrupts, finding his feet. “If it’s just a flat—”
“It won’t start,” I tell him, while Vex says something nearly incoherent about how someone absolutely needs to look at the car right now, can’t I do anything to help?
“Might be the battery,” Xan says. “Or the alternator, but it should be easy to tell—where are they?”
“I don’t know, why—no. No way.” The gleeful light in his eyes is all too familiar. “I’m not taking you to meet my boss when you’re sloshed and they’re in full panic mode.”
“Ah, but you see,” Xan says, with all the confidence of a man about to reiterate his insane moon landing theory, “clearly this is the best time for me to meet them. I’m a delight!”
“You’re a pain in the ass, is what you—no, not you, boss, I was talking to—”
“Xan here!” Xan says, snatching the phone before I can keep going. Dammit, his reflexes are way too fast for how drunk he is. “Send us your location, Vivacious, we’ll be right there. Don’t worry about it.” He hangs up and grins at me. “This is the best night ever!”
This is the worst night ever.
I refuse to drive us to where Vexation is, but instead of giving up, Xan simply shrugs and launches himself into the air. Goddamn flyers. By the time I make it there on foot, Xan is elbow-deep in the engine compartment, talking a mile a minute while Vex watches with a dazed look on their face.
“...I think competence is what’s really attractive, you know? Like, obviously I can appreciate a hot body as much as the next guy, but when you have a hot guy who just handles things and makes it look easy, that’s the real deal. Like, Jake has a mortgage and a budget spreadsheet and he always brings a list to the grocery store—”
“This is your husband?!” Vex hisses, pulling me down so they can whisper in my ear. “Jake, he’s Mister Magnificent’s sidekick. He could be manipulating you to learn all our secrets! Did he mind control you or something?” They stare into my eyes, as though looking for evidence of mind control. It gives me a close-up look of their eyes, too—red-rimmed and puffy, like they’ve been crying. A bad night, then. I know they have them, even if I’ve never seen the evidence so clearly.
“You okay?” I ask, quiet enough that Xan won’t hear. As much as they piss me off, I feel bad for Vexation sometimes. They’re young. And they don’t seem to have anyone else, which I can relate to.
For a split second, Vex’s lip quivers, and I think they might start crying again. Then their mouth goes firm, and they break eye contact. “I’m fine. Answer the question, are you mind controlled or not?”
I sigh. “He doesn’t have mind control powers. And he’s not trying to learn our secret plans. We keep our work and personal lives separate.” Or at least, I’m trying to. Xan seems utterly delighted to be here, fixing my boss’s car late at night. “This is why I didn’t want you two to meet.”
“Aww, and here I thought you were just worried I’d tell your boss embarrassing stories about you,” Xan says, raising his head. “Don’t worry babe, I didn’t say anything about how you almost burned down the kitchen.”
“That’s because you almost burned down the kitchen, I’m the one who nearly lost an eyebrow putting it out.”
“And you still would have looked hot,” Xan says, abandoning the car and sliding an arm around me. “I’ve been trying to give Virtuoso relationship advice, but they don’t seem interested. Such a shame.” He props his head on my shoulder; even without looking, I can tell he’s showing Vex his best fake “enamored with my husband” smile.
Vex grimaces. “That wasn’t advice, it was you telling me how hot my henchman is. Which, like, I super don’t want to hear about.” The vulnerability from a moment ago is gone, replaced by their usual attitude. “What’s wrong with my car?”
“Your battery’s fine, it’s just that the connections were like, super corroded. Cleaned those up and re-attached everything, it should start now.” He holds out Vex’s keys.
Vex takes them with a suspicious look and goes to start the car. Xan doesn’t move, just puts more of his weight on me.
“How do you know so much about cars if you can’t drive one?” I grumble.
“Told you, I’m good at material manipulation. It’s useful for fixing fiddly mechanical bits, so I used to help out the vehicle techs at Hero HQ. And anyway,” Xan wraps his other arm around my waist, so he’s now fully pressed against me, “I could drive if I wanted to, it just doesn’t make sense when I can. You know. Whoosh!” He waves a hand at the sky, nearly smacking me in the face in the process.
“Uh huh.” I take his hand and lace my fingers through his—to keep him from hitting me, of course. “Except driving a few blocks won’t make your blood sugar crash like flying does. Unless you somehow got drunker?”
Xan sighs, breath warm against my neck. “Shouldn’t’ve flown here. Always makes me sleepy when I’m drunk.” He giggles. “Good thing I have a big strong husband to carry me home!”
“Um, sorry to interrupt,” I turn to look at Vex, who’s standing by their now-running car. “I can um. Drive you home, if you want? As thanks for, you know, fixing this.”
I really don’t want to get in a car with my boss and my drunk husband. On the other hand, I really, really don’t want to carry my drunk husband all the way home. So I nod, bundle Xan into the backseat, and prepare myself for the world’s most awkward car ride.
“You know,” Vex says, “I get it now. When you told me you were married, I thought…this is stupid, but I thought you were making it up? You’ve never talked about anybody, and I guess I didn’t…think about you having a life outside of work. Since I don’t really…I mean, I clearly don’t have time for that, with all the evil plotting.” They wave their hand in a dismissive gesture; an energy beam shoots out through the open window and leaves a scorch mark on a nearby building. “Whoops. Anyway, I just wanted to say, I can see you weren’t lying. You two are clearly crazy about each other.”
The thing is, we aren’t. Sure, it’s not a lie in a technical sense—we really are married, it’s the only way the health insurance thing would work. But we’re not in love. This thing between us that Vex thinks they see, that’s not true at all. Xan is just like that—charming, bubbly, making flirty little comments and touching me all the time. And me…well. I’ve never been one to wear my emotions on the outside. If Vex thinks I have feelings for Xan, it’s because Xan emotes enough for both of us.
So I offer an awkward thanks, tell Vex I’ll see them tomorrow, and haul Xan inside before this night can get any weirder.
“Do you need to eat something before you go to bed?” I ask, half-walking, half-carrying him to his bedroom. “Or drink some water?”
“Should be fine,” Xan murmurs, clinging to my neck. “Just wanna sleep.”
“Right.” We reach his bed, and I tip him onto it. “Get some sleep, you goofball.”
“Wait.” He grips my sleeve, tugging me back. “Where’re you going?”
I cover his hand with mine, trying to get him to relax his fingers. “Uh, my room?” It made sense for Xan to move in with me after the marriage—half my mortgage was cheaper than his rent—but there was no reason to extend the charade inside the house. We share an address, not a bed.
His grip tightens. “No!” In the dim light from the hall, his eyes are dark pools. If I’m not careful, I could fall in and drown. “Stay.” And then, so soft I almost miss it, “Please?”
Vex is wrong about us. We’re not in love. But in this moment, held spellbound by a single word and a hand on my sleeve, I can admit that they’re not wrong about me.
Somewhere along the way, I’ve fallen for my husband.
I should leave for my own bed, try to put some space between me and this mountain of unrequited feelings. But it’s late, and I’m still a little drunk, and I don’t want to go. I want to be selfish for once, and Xan’s practically begging me. So I let myself be pulled in, let Xan tug me down on the bed next to him. He curls up and tucks his head under my chin—no easy feat, he’s taller and made of gangly limbs—and whines until I wrap an arm around him.
“Sleep,” Xan murmurs, sounding most of the way there himself. I want to do what he says, but instead I lay awake for a long time, listening to him breathe and wondering how long this can last.
Another day. Another heist gone wrong. Another fight that we’re losing, badly, to Mister Magnificent. Only this time, I don’t manage to catch Xan and use him as leverage.
“Hey there, handsome. Wanna go for a ride?”
This time I’m the one who gets caught.
“You know,” I say, as Xan flies me up to a nearby rooftop, “if your flight power burns so much energy, maybe you shouldn’t use it so much.” His hands are shaking as he sets me down and starts tying my wrists.
“Or maybe I need to eat more sugar,” he counters. “Buy me ice cream after this?”
I twist out of his grip and sweep my leg out to knock him down. “Why am I the one buying?”
Xan dodges and retreats into the air. “Because you get paid more than me? And also we’re beating you.”
He hasn’t gone far enough; I grab one of his ankles and pull. “That’s not fair, if we do it by wins and losses, I’ll always be paying for things.”
“You do always pay for things.” Caught off balance, Xan drops his flight power and lands on top of me, knocking both of us flat.
“Would you quit flirting with your husband and help me?” Vexation shouts, soaring past us thanks to a well-aimed blow from Mister Magnificent. They hit the roof and roll to their feet. “I know you two are sickeningly in love, but we are in an actual fight right now.”
Xan’s body goes rigid against mine. A moment later, boots touch down behind us.
“I’m sorry, did you just say husband?” His voice really is just like Xan’s imitation from all those months ago, deep and resonant. But where Xan’s impression was jovial, Mister Magnificent sounds confused and hurt. “Flamingo, is that true?”
“Sir! I—” Xan rolls off me and scrambles to his feet. “I can explain.”
“Explain what? That you got married without telling me? To a henchman?” Mister Magnificent glares down at me. “And not even a good one, from the look of it.”
That’s not fair. I’m a great henchman.
“That’s not fair,” Xan says, “he’s a great husband! You don’t even know him.”
“He’s a henchman, that’s all I need to know!” Mister Magnificent grabs my arm and pulls me upright. “I’ll deal with you later, Flamingo. Time to put an end to this.” There’s no time to react; he throws me directly at Vexation. Vex, displaying better reflexes than usual, flings themself out of the way. Which means I go sailing past them, right over the edge of the roof.
My life doesn’t flash before my eyes—most of it isn’t interesting enough to remember. There are some moments that stand out, though, crystal clear as I fall. A sharp smile, inviting me to my first henchman job. The sight of my old boss plummeting to his death. Xan eating cheese fries in our usual booth, his smile the brightest thing in the room. Xan’s hand and mine next to each other, matching rings on our fingers. Xan’s laugh, the first day we met, when I joked about keeping him.
I guess I wasn’t joking after all. But in a few seconds, it won’t matter.
The end comes sooner than I expected. The memory of Xan, comforting in what could have been my final moments, becomes the reality of Xan, wrapping his arms around me. And then we hit the ground.
Landing on pavement really fucking hurts. I groan, rolling onto my back to squint up at the sky. I brace my hand on the ground to push myself upright. My fingers brush against something soft.
“What the—oh shit.” It’s Xan I’m touching, lying beside me with his eyes closed, unmoving. There’s blood at the corner of his mouth. I sit up and reach for him. “Xan? Can you hear me?”
He should be fine. He’s the one with flight powers, the one who caught me. But we hit the ground pretty hard, and I’ve always been more durable than most people. And he’s so, so still.
“Xan, you idiot,” I say, cradling his head in my hands. I wipe the blood away from his lips, as gentle as my calloused thumb will allow. “You’re not supposed to get yourself killed trying to save people. That’s above your paygrade, remember? You don’t even get dental!” I’m distantly aware of footsteps running towards us and people shouting, but all I can see is Xan’s face. “You can’t leave me like this. I never got a chance to tell you.” I lean down to kiss his forehead. “I love you, Xan. Don’t go.”
And then I hear it, so quiet I would have missed it if I wasn’t so close. Xan laughs.
“Can’t…can’t get rid of me that easy,” he whispers. “You said…’til death do us part, remember? Stuck with me.”
“Xan!” I open my eyes and see him looking back, dazed and bruised but very much alive. “You’re okay!”
“Yeah. Just uh. Overdid it on the flight powers again. You might have to carry me home.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh, relief bubbling out of me. “Anywhere you want.”
“Home,” Xan repeats. He covers one of my hands with his, gently pushing it away from his face. I assume he wants me to let go of him, but when I try to pull away, he threads our fingers together and rests our joined hands right above his heart. “But also maybe…the dentist? I think I lost a tooth.”
“Okay, sure.” My laughter dies away. Now that I know he’s all right, I’m starting to feel very stupid. “Good thing you married me, right? So you can use my dental insurance.”
Xan offers a lopsided smile. “Yeah. But also because I love you.”
As first kisses go, most couples would probably not choose to have theirs following a two-story fall, with one person bleeding from a split lip and freshly missing tooth. But Xan and I aren’t exactly the most normal couple, so we do it anyway. It’s messy. It’s not terribly comfortable. It’s perfect.
Eventually, we do have to stop, because I hear Vex threatening to throw water on us if we don’t.
“I’m a little busy, boss,” I say, helping Xan sit up and wrapping my arm around his shoulder to stabilize him. “Did you need something?”
“I need you to unhand my sidekick!” Mister Magnificent bellows. He and Vex are both standing over us, staring at us and pointedly ignoring each other. “Flamingo, what were you thinking? You could have died! When I get you back to Hero HQ, we are going to have a talk about your behavior, young man!”
Xan sighs. “No we’re not.”
Mister Magnificent sputters. “No? What do you mean, no?”
“I mean,” Xan says, leaning his head on my shoulder, “that I’m not going back to Hero HQ with you. I don’t have to explain myself. I’m an adult, and Jake is my husband, and I love him.” The words send a thrill through me; I wonder if I’ll ever get tired of hearing him say that. “So yeah, I quit. I can’t keep working for the guy who threw my husband off a roof.”
“I quit too,” Vexation says. We all stare at them, even Mister Magnificent. “I mean,” they say, taking a step back, “Sorry to interrupt your touching moment, but the whole villain thing? I don’t really think it’s working for me. I’m going back to grad school. But don’t worry Jake, I’m sure we’ll still keep in touch! I know you’ll miss me.” They grab Mister Magnificent by the arm; he’s still too shocked to resist. “Come on, big guy, let’s leave the lovebirds alone. You can lecture me about morality one last time before I go.”
When the two of them are gone, Xan and I stay where we are. “So…” I say, “I guess this means I have to see if the Villain Association has any other jobs open.”
“Mmm. Do you think they’ll take a new recruit?” At my incredulous expression, Xan shrugs. “I heard they have good benefits. I do have a husband to provide for, you know.”
I laugh and lean in for another kiss. “I guess you do.”
Bonus: Art! I wanted to draw Xan and I got carried away...
Update: the art is broken, here is a link to my Tumblr post with it until I can re-upload it to a better image hosting site: https://www.tumblr.com/worldsentwined/709918978792980480/interrupted-heists-dentist-visits-and-other?source=share