DISCLAIMER: The characters herein are used without permission. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
SPOILERS: Post-Movie

Head Games
By trancer


Lick, sip, bite. Except, in Hel's case it was more swallow than sip and less licking and biting having discarded the salt shaker and slice of lime several shots ago. Her face scrunched distastefully as the tequila burned its way down to her stomach. She'd started with margarita's. By the fourth one - disappointed at the length it was taking to get herself drunk - Hel skipped the mix and went straight to the source, ordering a bottle of the club's most expensive brand. It wasn't her money anyway.

She sat in a corner of BaDa-Boobies Gentleman's Club, with its Neapolitan décor and earth-toned colors to remind the visitor of a villa in Italy. Dancers flocked about her like flies drawn to a pile of crap. Hel was doling out hundreds like confetti, to the consternation of the other patrons. She'd taken the stack of cash from Gage's shelter and planned to spend every mother fuckin' dime drowning in booze and broads.

The room erupted into a frenzy of catcalls and hoots. Hel leaned away from the ass shimmying in her face to see what all the fuss was about.

It was almost like before, like the first time Hel had seen 'Her'. Trixie. Like the first time she'd seen her strutting across the stage at Papa Picollo's Naughty Knickers Roundup, with her white angel wings strapped to her back and gleaming white bikini. Back when Hel didn't know the doe-eyed and innocent, almost virginal but not quite mannerisms were all an act.

A lot can change in a year.

Hel went off the grid after that day in the desert. Gone rogue. A former agent with just one mission, one goal, one desire. Some would say one obsession. She chased Trixie, aka Pinky, around the globe, always one step behind, Trixie always remaining a hair's breath out of reach, nothing but the whisper of her presence carried by the wind.

And the depth of her deception.

Hel's lips twisted into a sneer as her chest squeezed and the bitter taste of betrayal burned the back of her throat.

Trixie strutted across the stage to some bastardized techno version of 'Ava Maria', making sure she had everyone's attention. The smell of sexual desperation filled the air, as knuckleheads who thought shoving a g-note into a g-string meant the same thing as getting lucky. They swarmed towards the stage like the lecherous lemmings they were.

Hel remained unimpressed.

So did Trixie.

She stepped down the stage, her footsteps light and airy like an angel walking on clouds, her gaze a blue-eyed bazooka of irritated disinterest, the slobbering patrons falling in her wake like dejected dominoes.

"Hello, Hel," Trixie stopped before Hel's table, hips tilting as she placed her hands on them. "Or should I call you Foxy?"

Hel reached forward and refilled her shot glass. "Neither," she hissed.

"Oops," Trixie's hand went to her mouth all faux-coy and demure. "I guess I'm not supposed to call you that. Wouldn't want your bosses to know where you are. So," she walked around the table until she stood before Hel's legs and started a slow sway of her hips. "What should I call you?"

"Today," Hel slammed the shot glass, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. "I'm the Queen of Pain."

Trixie smiled. She continued her seductive sway, running her hands up and down her body, stopping at her breasts, holding them like Hel would. "I missed you in Oran."

"Can't miss what wasn't there?" Hel kept her eyes on Trixie's. She wasn't falling for it, not this time.

"You're not getting over me, are you?" Trixie pouted like she wasn't the world's most prolific, mysterious and most dangerous gangster. She turned around, bending over at the waist and practically shoving her ass into Hel's face. Her hands on Hel's knees, she pulled Hel's legs open, lowering her ass and grinding it on Hel's crotch. Hard. Like, if Hel had a dick it'd be standing at attention right about now - HARD.

"And why.." Hel grunted, Trixie's tailbone grinding against a part of Hel an exotic dancer's tailbone definitely should not be touching. Touching patrons went against the rules of strip clubs, like BaDa-Boobies was any strip club. Certainly not one where the rules actually applied. "Would I want to do that?"

Trixie leaned back until her back pressed against Hel's chest, her wings smushed between the two of them. She reached back with a hand, caressing Hel's cheek as she brushed her lips against the other side. "You can't answer a question with a question," she giggled like she was having the time of her life. "That's just rude."

"Yes," Hel grabbed Trixie's wrist and recoiled from her lips as if they were poison. "I'm over you."

For the first time, the playful glint in Trixie's eyes disappeared and they went cold. Pinky's eyes. "Liar."

"Am I?" For the first time in what seemed like months, Hel smiled. She grabbed Trixie by the waist and roughly shoved the angel-wing clad stripper off her lap, quickly rising to her feet. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go throw up."

BaDa-Boobies, the only strip club in Vegas with stripper poles in the restrooms. The room was big, a line of stalls on either wall. The stripper pole sat in the middle of the room on a circular island where the sinks were. A strange place but Hel wasn't in the mood to think about erotic entertainment architecture. Several women stood at the sinks, pretending to wash their hands. The stripper was blonde, topless, her tits filled with enough silicone to start her own software company.

Hel ignored all of them, taking a place at one of the sinks. She watered a paper-towel then ran it over her face and neck.

The door to the restroom burst open, smacking against the wall so hard Hel was surprised it didn't crack off its hinges.

Trixie stepped into the room, the door swinging closed behind her. Her eyes were all hellfire and brimstone, the rage practically radiating off her.

"EVERYBODY OUT!" she screamed and the women scurried like rats on the Titanic.

Six-inch and clear as crystal platform shoes stomped heavily on the tiled floor as Trixie marched her way towards Hel. "Nobody," she growled, finger jabbing angrily. "Walks away from me!"

"Aw," Hel pouted sarcastically. "Did I pop your last cherry?" Her eyes went hard. "Tell it to somebody who cares. I'm through playing your games." She took the paper towel pressed to her neck and tossed it into the trash, placing both her hands onto the counter. "So go find yourself another screw. This one's tired of twisting."

Another faux-pout and Trixie moved closer, pressing her hands on Hel's hips, crotch against ass, she wiggled playfully. "There's always room for one more screw."

"Knock it off, Trixie," Hel growled.

The look of surprise on Trixie's face was genuine, not that Hel could see it. Trixie's head tilted curiously, like a puppy hearing a sound it couldn't identity. Trixie heard the words, she just couldn't grasp the meaning. "You really don't love me anymore, do you?"

"No," Hel sighed like Sisyphus, unable to shake the weight off her shoulders. "I don't."

A wail, like a hell cat gone mad, erupted from Trixie's throat. Hands on Hel's shoulders, she jerked the redhead around then, just as quickly, mashed their lips together. She pressed her body hard against Hel's, trapping her against the counter so the only escape was through Trixie. And nobody got through Trixie.

She jammed her tongue into Hel's mouth and shivered as Hel moaned. This was the way it was supposed to be. This was the game. While she hadn't intended to break Hel, Trixie just wanted Hel to.. bend just a little bit more.

Her fingers went up Hel's blouse, popping the buttons and groping the fleshy prize underneath. Breasts, full and round and heavy in Trixie's palms, she pinched the already hardened nipples just like Hel liked it. Pinched and squeezed until Hel was squirming under her touch, whimpering into Trixie's mouth like she was fighting the inevitable.

It was inevitable. Trixie wanted her. Trixie would have her.

She ran a hand between them, jerking up the tight, black skirt until it was hiked up over Hel's hips. Her fingers gripped the black, satin panties and yanked them until they ripped off Hel's hips.

Then, Trixie was on her knees, pulling open Hel's thighs and tossing one of them over her shoulder. Hel, who stared down at her, fingers curling over the edge of the counter and holding tight.

"Tell me," Trixie looked up as she breathed wet and heavily onto Hel's sex because she knew how much Hel liked it. "Tell me you don't love me."

Hel gazed down at her with eyes gone hooded and dreamy. She licked her lips. "I don't love you."

Trixie smirked. "Liar." She shoved her face into Hel's crotch and Hel cried out at the first contact of Trixie's tongue. Trixie used every trick in the book, even the ones in the 'hidden' chapters. Fingers and tongue and lips and Hel was writhing, keening like a hell cat in heat.

Trixie took her eagerly, hungrily, possessively. Mine, mine, mine, she spoke with suction and friction. Mine, she said when she shoved Hel over the edge and kept pushing long after Hel had crashed below.

With legs gone boneless, Hel slumped to the floor, caught in Trixie's arms as she pulled the redhead close. The minutes ticked by, Trixie gently running her hand over Hel's hair as Hel's breathing settled and her thoughts returned to something resembling cognitive.

"Did you really think.." Trixie tilted Hel's face towards hers, gently stroking her cheek. "I'd ever let you go?"

"Not really." Hel closed her eyes dreamily, giving in to Trixie's soft caress. Her lips spread into a soft smile and she opened her eyes again. "Does this mean you love me?"

"Yes," Trixie swallowed, not really certain if she was still playing the game.

"Say it," Hel pleaded breathily.

"I love you."

Hel reached up, clasped her hand onto the back of Trixie's head and pulled her close. Deeply, passionately, she kissed her. Kissed her like she'd been waiting for those three words for forever. Maybe she had.

Her energy returned, Hel pulled the two of them to their feet. Twisted and turned them until it was Trixie pressed up against the island. Hel turned Trixie around, pushed with her hand and Trixie was bent over the counter, legs getting kicked apart by Hel's heels.

Hel ran her hands down Trixie's back. Trixie wasn't the only one who knew how to ruin a good pair of panties. Hel took a good grip of Trixie's and tore them to shreds. Her fingers slid down the crack of Trixie's ass, lower and lower, until they rubbed against wetness and heat. She fired three fingers into Trixie, thrust them like a piston running off the rails. Now, Trixie was the one wailing, hands thrust forward and wrapping around the base of the stripper's pole.

"Say it again!" Hel moaned, free hand running up Trixie's back, gathering a handful of hair and yanking forcefully. "Tell me you love me!"

"Fuck!" Trixie grunted then licked her lips. Maybe she'd bent Hel a little too far. Maybe she should have done it months ago. "I love you!"

"Why?" Hel asked.

Trixie was close. So close. Closer than she'd ever been before. Like she was about to have one of those orgasms you'd only find in romance novels. Like Hel touched, figuratively and literally, the hidden part of herself that actually believed in things like love.

"Why?" Hel asked again, pulling just a little tighter. "Why do you love me?"

Christ, did they have to talk about this now? Didn't they have the rest of their lives for this conversation? Because, it really was getting hard to think with all the thoughts of a future together and walking naked on a beach on some Micronesian island somewhere blurring with the foggy, hormonal haze of 'omg! About to have the best orgasm ever!' clogging her brain.

"I love you," Trixie squeezed through clenched teeth. "Because I've never met anyone like you!"

"That's what I thought."


Trixie thought about opening her eyes because Hel's fingers weren't doing that thing that was about to make her explode like rocket fuel marrying a pile of dynamite. Something cold clasped around one of her wrists and Trixie's eyes shot open at the familiar clicking sound of handcuffs sliding into place.

Handcuffs. Around her wrist.

And Trixie's eyes did snap open, gazing at the silver band wrapped around her wrist, the other end attached to the pole.

"You fucking bitch!" Trixie yelled, yanking at the restraint. She knew the brand. A special issue for covert operatives, made of titanium and, without the key, would take a blow-torch to remove.

"Takes one to know one," Hel reached into her purse, pulling out a tube of lipstick and reapplying the dark red color.

"I'm going to fucking KILL you!"

Hel reached out, grabbing Trixie by the back of the head. She pulled until Trixie's neck craned, leaning in and pressing her lips against the shell of Trixie's ear. "You can try."

With that, Hel released her hold. She picked up her purse and casually, hips swaying with a newly found swagger, walked towards the door.

"Hel!" Trixie called out to her. "Hel! If you leave me like this.."

She'd spent the last year chasing after Trixie, running from herself, playing Trixie's game and, in turn, being played like a fiddle. Running through her emotions like the five stages of grief. Until she hit 'acceptance' like a brick wall. Came to an understanding that underneath all the anger, grief and betrayal, her emotions ran strong because she still loved Trixie. It was in that moment, when she'd finally accepted everything, it occurred to Hel that the best way to catch Trixie..

Was to just stop chasing.

The game wasn't over. Trixie had just shown her hand. And now that Hel was done playing Trixie's game..

It was time for Trixie to play Hel's.

Hel spun around. She pressed her fingers to her pursed lips then blew Trixie a kiss. Her lips spread into a smile so wide she thought her cheeks would cramp.

"Catch me if you can."

The End

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