Work Text:
Hemlock did not ask for this.
He didn't ask for the job at city hall, or the food McMahon ordered for him, or the crazy broad leaping across buildings to deliver said food to him. He just wanted to kill some guys and bask in the isolation, as one does.
"Mister Jones! Mister Joooones! Your noodles are getting cold!"
Millie Myers is supposed to be a completely average woman, but here she is chasing after and catching up to one of the greatest assassins under Garden's employ. To reiterate: this unassuming clerk is bounding rooftops just to get under Hemlock's skin and by GOD must he haul ass just to protect what remains of his isolation powers.
"I DON'T WANT YOUR FOOD! STAY AWAY FROM ME, YOU FOUL WENCH!"
"Are we going to your house, Mister Jones?! I'd love to drop by for a visit!"
"No! How absurd and inappropriate!"
Millie Myers' agility almost seems at par with the Thorn Princess (pre-merry makeout) at this point. Is she also working for Garden? Was Hemlock just uninformed about this? What other explanation could there be for his torment at this very moment?
I can't slow down! I have to channel the power of my extreme isolation!
He feels the energy surge through him, the sheer force of loneliness that comes with no one attending your birthday party or coming over for the holidays. It tightens his resolve and fuels the contraction of his finely honed muscles, allowing him the will to outrun the womanly scourge out to feed him black bean noodles—
—it's not enough. She's caught him by the hand mid-air and they're about to splatter onto the concrete but somehow this ordinary civilian WITCH has the strength to lift a man his size on one hand and backflip to the ground gracefully without a hair out of place. When Millie Myers puts him down, Hemlock has to lean against a nearby wall just to stop himself from collapsing in utter defeat.
"Gosh, Mister Jones! You sure know how to play hard-to-get! I love that in a man... here's your food."
Millie Myers smiles as if she hadn't performed feats impossible just to fulfill her menial errand for McMahon. The takeout box of black bean noodles hangs limp in Hemlock's hands. Once again, for the second time in a row this week, Hemlock is left stupefied by the overwhelming willpower of women fueled by the thought of merrymaking.
"H-how..."
He's a goner, your honor. Millie tilts her head and puts a finger on her chin in thought.
"I dunno. I guess there's something about you that just keeps me going, Mister Jones. Like... a rush whenever I see you!"
Hemlock forces himself to look up and face his captor. She glows red and vibrant before him, surely out of pure disdain if she went this far to torment him. His vision goes blurry at the sight of her.
"What's the secret... where did my isolation powers go wrong..."
Millie Myers drains the life out of Hemlock by pushing her wet, disgusting lips against his cheek like she's about to suck his soul out. Heat flushes through his body when she does, surely the fire of rage in him for letting this happen!
"You know, it's rude to make a lady jump buildings when you take her out. But I had fun. We should do this again next time!"
He doesn't pull away or shove her aside or flee. His legs are locking him in place, no doubt because he's tired. He nods and listlessly agrees to her proposition because he'll certainly secure his revenge on her that way.
He has to study every inch of his enemy to defeat them; that's what he tells himself when he can't stop looking at Millie Myers.