Arch Frenemies

Part 10: Bone To Pick

Dedicated to: Haniel7

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He swiveled his high backed leather chair to face her, a smug grin plastered on his face.
He couldn't be thinking that right now, could he?
"Toxic, that's insane!"
She instantaneously protested.
"I can't dance, and even if I could, where would I find a partner whose limbs I wouldn't tear off?'' Any guy who had the misfortune of dancing with her would have to be prepared for his arm to be ripped out of its socket at the first little twirl; it wasn't even a joke- she's broken the wrist of her ballet instructor two minutes into her first lesson as a child. Andromeda shuddered at that horrible memory. Toxic brought his folded fingertips to his thin lips, as if oddly amused by her plight.

"And don't you need to be prestigious or royal or something before they even let you past the gate?" She rattled on, nervous doubt filling her the more she considered the weird possibility of going in as a dancer. Meanwhile, Toxic's grin kept growing more smug. She knew that look. It was the look he bore when he had a brilliant scheme just waiting to be unveiled, which was pretty often.
"I could never pull that off." She grumbled. His eyes lit up, obviously relishing in her self-doubt, something she hardly ever let others see.
"Not by yourself you couldn't." His arrogance steamed off him with every syllable.

"Maybe I could get in."
She contemplated to herself.
The chance did exist that she wouldn't even have to step close to a dance floor. She felt she just need to get in, kick ass, and then get out; but then the fear hit her again; the last time she'd faced those beasts, she had pretty much lost her life. She knew she could just call her father, explain everything, and he and the league would take care of those speeders without much trouble, but even now Galaxy Girl was much too prideful to go running to dad for help. She'd never live that down, and she'd be "daddy's girl" or the helpless damsel for the rest of her life.

I do need help on this one, but who could help? She pondered.
If Toxic thinks I'm going to ask that douche-bag Dauntless for help...
She shuddered at the thought. Anyone but him.

"What are you getting at?"
The Hero questioned curiously, though dreading the answer.
"What if you knew someone...?" He teased her question with another question. Propping her elbow up onto his armrest, she leaned closer in, her ears peeled.
"Someone who could get you in. Someone who as of this current second, you more or less trust. Someone with the funds to pull it off. Someone who you can't dismember, who speaks Italian, and who is a world class ballroom dancer."
He paused for a moment.
"Theoretically speaking."
Said the villain with a slight shrug.
She tried to think up someone who ticked all the boxes he'd mentioned, but her mind drew a blank.

"Who!?" She finally gave in and asked. "Wow, you really are blonde."
He shook his head. "Me!" Toxic finally exclaimed, jabbing his thumb at his chest. Galaxy's eyes nearly popped out of her skull in surprise.
"You can't be serious!?" She laughed, pushing the kitchen chair away from his desk she stood up. His eyes locked onto hers, this seemed like a serious moment to him. For once, he didn't look smug, and he wasn't laughing.
"Oh God, you are!" She sucked in a breath. We are not having this conversation. This is not happening. "Toxic, what are you thinking?" She shouted. "No, No! You are my Nemesis. You can't help me!"

He crossed his arms and rolled his eyes at her theatrics. Women were such a handful "Why not?" Asked the tall genius. "Just because! It's not how things are supposed to work, I mean if anybody ever found out you and I went together to Rome, to ballroom dance...." She grimaced. Toxic pushed his chair back and stood up defensively.
"So what if on the slim chance that we fail, they do find out? It can't get any worse! I mean come on, you are defeated, dead, and I'm washed out! Career wise, what more have we got to lose?!?" He slammed his fist down hard onto his desk. The Villain was dead serious about this. Turning away from him, she ran her hand over her face in frustration; there was really no point making a fuss about the situation; she could see no other way out. She sighed as she turned back towards him. His arms were crossed, a clearly impatient look on his face.