Blake bit her lip, staring out of the window at the clouds below as One's private jet flew at cruising altitude. Her nerves coiled like an angry snake in the pit of her belly.
She slid her gaze over to where Two and Three were cuddled, both fast asleep. Despite the animosity between her and Two, Blake admired the woman for her no-bullshit attitude. After all, she was the only one who seemed to see straight through her when she had arrived.
They were an unlikely couple, she mused. Three was, comparatively, more laid-back and social, the Crazy Uncle of the team. Though, she supposed, opposites did attract. She was glad Three had fallen asleep, at least - he'd been panicking for the last hour. Blake wondered if Two had given him a pill to help him sleep through it; after all, it wouldn't be the first time she'd witnessed any of the team popping pills to help themselves cope.
Seven was completely absorbed by his laptop, furiously pressing buttons. Last she'd heard, he was going online for a quick game of Call of Duty; she hadn't heard a peep from him for the last two and a half hours.
Four was sat opposite, scrolling through his phone. She had told him that she was feeling sick and he had respected that, giving her breathing room by sitting across from her. At least, that's what he said; she had a sneaking suspicion he was taking measures to avoid being vomited on. She wasn't going to be sick, but it was nice to have the space to think where she wasn't overwhelmed by him. It gave her space to think.
He felt her staring and glanced up, a cautious smile curving his lips. "You feeling okay?"
She nodded. "A lot better."
He stared, as if expecting her to elaborate, but she averted her eyes and looked out of the window. She couldn't cope with him looking at her like that. It did weird things to her insides.
After ten minutes she slid out of her seat and made her way to the bathroom.
The plane was One's private jet, which he reportedly kept on the team's private airstrip most of the time - from all she'd heard about their base, she had a faint yearning to see 'One's Batcave'. It was, on the whole, overly luxurious, with spongy, tanned leather seats and ample legroom. Each drinks-holder had chilling capabilities, and a fully-stocked bar took up a separate room. The bathroom was equally deluxe. Equipped with a shower with a fifteen-minute run time and marble tiling, it looked like it had been stolen from a luxury hotel.
Blake took a little time with redoing her makeup in the bathroom, smoothing down her hair and generally making sure she looked okay. It was a calming ritual, made soothing by the intense concentration required by her makeup application, and it worked. She felt the stress ease as she cleaned underneath her fingernails, finishing the process.
A muffled and very indignant yell sounded outside. Curiously, she opened the bathroom door, only to be bowled into by Four. He was laughing breathlessly and ushered her hastily back inside, locking the door just before someone banged on it, hard.
"You motherfucker!" Seven yelled. "You killed me!"
Blake made a gesture to catch Four's attention as he tried to stop laughing. "What?" She mouthed, tilting her head to show her confusion.
Four pressed his back against the door and gave her a sheepish grin. "I may have pressed buttons on his game... I got bored."
She gave him a withering look as Seven banged the door again.
"You can't stay in there forever!" Seven said. "I'm staying right here until you come out."
They stood in silence, listening to Seven as he made himself comfortable outside the door.
YOU ARE READING
𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕔𝕒𝕥 | 𝟲 𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗚𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗗
Fanfiction[Four | 6 ᴜɴᴅᴇʀɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ] Blake is one of Circe's Angels, agent B: the black cat, Chat Noire. Ruthless, fast, deadly - she has just one weakness, and Circe damn well knows it. Her latest mission? Steal the controls to the Turgistani nuclear armoury. I...
