Work Text:
This is a trap, Isaac thinks to himself.
A large buffet of food is spread out on the table before him, rich, expensive meals fit for a king that he’d never be able to afford on his salary. There’s prime rib steak, escargot and caviar and oysters, varying kinds of fancy spaghetti that Isaac doesn’t know the names of.
In his college days, Isaac had gotten himself into some strange Internet rabbit holes when procrastinating group projects and studying, the glow of his computer screen enticing as he clicked through article after article on Wikipedia. One of them had been about the fae as told in popular folklore and cultural history. And the first rule for dealing with the fae was never eat their food.
Valeria, sitting across from him in her rich blue dress and swirling a bottle of expensive red wine, looks to be just that. A fae. Unnaturally pretty, mischievous and very dangerous.
“Why did you bring me here?”
He cringes at the break in the tense silence, but Isaac is a reporter. It’s his duty to ask questions.
“For dinner, of course.”
He bites his lips. “You know that’s not what I meant.” Isaac gestures to the penthouse apartment they’re in. A step up from the cell he was in, sure, but that only made it more unnerving. “I mean why did you… what do you want from me?”
He doesn’t want to say help, because he’s sure that Valeria isn’t doing… whatever this is out of the goodness of her heart. She’s known as the Siren of Prism Port for a reason. What use would one of the city’s greatest villains have for a reporter?
Outside the window, lightning flashes in a summer thunderstorm. It lights up the apartment in a way that makes Isaac feel like he’s in a horror movie.
And the guy asking too many questions always gets killed first.
With a delicateness found only in those born and raised in high society, Valeria slides a piece of caviar onto a wooden stick.
“Hm. Right to the point. Well, I suppose that’s to be expected from a reporter.” Isaac steeples his fingers together as Valeria eats, fighting his hunger at the buffet spread before him. “But why bother with the dullness of work now? You haven’t touched your food. Why do people always wish to talk over a wonderfully prepared meal?”
Isaac has a feeling that saying he’s not hungry won’t go unremarked, so he keeps silent instead. He will, however, take a drink of the wine. He’s not going to turn down an expensive drink like that.
Valeria sighs and sets down the stick in her hand “Ugh, fine. I brought you here because I figured you could use some help.”
Gulping, Isaac shifts in his chair, looking at the wine glass in his hand instead of Valeria herself. “And what sort of help do you think I would need from a villain…?” He asks carefully, trying to get a read on her.
There’s a lot of rumors about the heir to the Metz family, though even for Isaac, confirming the validity of them was tricky. Even the Prism Agency didn’t have much of a record on her, that’s how elusive she was. No one in the right mind wanted to cross her.
“Well, considering I found you being held illegally by our so-called ‘crusaders of justice’, I think there’s quite a bit I could help you with,” Valeria says, resting her elbows on the table. “Simply put, my dear detective, you could be of use to me.”
Oh, that doesn’t sound good. Isaac fidgets with the cuff of his sleeve. “How so?”
“You see, I make it a point to know what’s going on in my city. I have my own ways, of course, but the best way is through the news. However, not all of them put such… dedication into pursuing the truth as your agency does.”
She takes a moment to spread something onto a fancy-looking cracker, and Isaac looks down at his own empty plate. Wonders if he should just bite the bullet and eat.
“Among those working at the Blacklight Agency, you’re one of the most notable. And I like to keep my eyes on people who are notable.”
Oh. Cool. Totally not low-key terrifying or invasive at all.
“It’s not uncommon knowledge that my family has always been at odds with the Hero Agency, either. So when I found out that you, detective, have been investigating corruption within the Agency that I loathe…” Her smile is sharp as a knife’s edge and just as cutting. “Well, my interest was quite piqued.”
He shrinks under the pressure of that look, as though Valeria is making a physical attack against his body with the intent to cut, to maim.
“Th- that still do- doesn’t explain why… what you want from me.” Isaac reaches for the glass of wine, pauses as he debates if he wants to get tipsy in front of Valeria, and then decides fuck it and downs the rest of it. More thunder crashes outside, lighting the room briefly again.
“Tell me, detective, have you seen the news?”
The question throws Isaac for a loop, and he shoots a glance at her. “No…?” He pointedly does not mention he’s spent several days in custody, which she should clearly already be aware of.
“Well, just yesterday morning, before I came to oh so helpfully give you a hand, the Prism Port Hero Agency has declared you arrested on suspicion of the disappearance of local Hero Sunspot.”
Isaac’s heart drops to his stomach, his knees banging up against the table as he stands. No, Luke, not him, not him, what happened to him? Is he okay?
“What? What does that mean, disappearance of Sunspot? What happened?”
Valeria seems unphased by his reaction, simply shaking her head and ticking her tongue. “Well, it just so happens that the same night you got kidnapped, Sunspot also seems to have vanished into thin air.
“Now, if I had to take a guess, considering the Prism Agency had illegally kidnapped and detained you, a humble reporter, over an article that hasn’t yet been published, my guess is that they needed a reason for you to disappear so suddenly. So, Sunspot—either by manipulation, coercion or threat—was also retrieved by the Hero Agency.”
A wave of dizziness passes over Isaac, and he sways for a moment before sitting back down before he passes out. He can hear the blood pounding in his ears, the racing of his breath as he tries to adjust to this information.
“But Luke- he doesn’t- he doesn’t have anything to do with this!” Yet, even as he says it, Isaac knows that means nothing.
By virtue of being in a relationship with him, Isaac’s made his own boyfriend a target.
But it wasn’t supposed to be that way. Isaac was the civilian. He was supposed to be the one getting kidnapped for ransom or for revenge, he was supposed be the one being a target by mere virtue of having the privilege to date Sunspot. Not the other way around.
“If it does any good, I doubt he’s in any danger. But the point of the matter is that you have officially been declared a criminal—and, I’m guessing, soon to be a fugitive.”
A particularly loud crack of thunder deafens all else for a moment, loud enough that it almost sounds like a gunshot, and Isaac jumps, banging his knees against the table again. At least Valeria seems to have been a little startled as well, based on the way she hisses, “Motherfucker.”
Isaac waits a few seconds before speaking again, rubbing at his collarbones to try and ease some of the tension in his chest. “I doubt people will really believe that, or at least my coworkers… They all know the article I was working on… they might suspect foul play.”
“Maybe, maybe not. But it’s now known to the general public, and I’m sure the Hero Agency has plenty of tricks up their sleeves to manipulate the people into thinking you’re the villain.” Valeria stands, flipping her hair over her shoulder in a way that seems harmless but is tinged with danger.
“Now, the way I see it, you have two options. One is that you lend your skills to me, and we work together to expose the corruption in the Hero Agency,” she starts, striding to Isaac from the other side of the table. He promptly freezes in place. “This way, we both win. Or, I can toss you back out onto the streets and let you fend for yourself against cops and heroes alike.”
“Neither of them sound like particularly rosy prospects,” Isaac says, before immediately shutting his mouth because that’s probably not the smartest thing to say to one of the most dangerous villains in the city.
This only seems to amuse Valeria, and she leans down towards him. “Yet, here I am being greatly magnanimous and offering you a choice instead of throwing you out to the wolves. It is up to you.”
“You still haven’t told me what working with you entails, precisely.” He leans back in turn, but there’s only so far he can lean back without risking falling out of his chair.
“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that,” she says, pressing into his personal space in a way that can only be described as predatory. “All you need to worry about is helping me gather and verify certain… information about the existence and extent of this corruption. Leave the rest to me.”
Isaac gulps. Her eyes watch the bobbing of his Adam’s Apple with the movement. “I- I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Then if you’re smart, you won’t ask any more questions, hmm?” She smiles and rests her hand on Isaac’s cheek, her manicured nail digging into his skin with just a little too much force.
The question is not so much of a question as it is a demand, and Isaac wisely decides not to press the matter. “You… mean about anything other than what’s pertinent?”
…Mostly.
Valeria drags her manicured fingernail slowly down Isaac’s cheek in a way that is certainly a threat. “Don’t think that I’m doing any of this out of the goodness of my heart, detective. Keep your mouth shut and do as you're told and I’ll let you leave here alive. And maybe in one piece.”
Slowly, Isaac nods.
Valeria holds his gaze for several terrifyingly long moments, before she steps back out of his personal space, smoothing her dress out. Isaac isn’t ashamed to say he slumps in his seat when she moves away.
“Now with that out of the way, let’s get back to the meal, hmm? My lovely chefs worked so hard to create this, it would be rude to refuse.”
As he watches the villainess stab into her ribeye steak with a knife, Isaac wonders what’s going to kill him first. Valeria, or a heart attack.