The Villain's Housekeeper
#73.2 (part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7) (part 8) (part 9) (part 10) (part 11)
“It’s looking a little dusty on the mantelpiece,” the villain comments brightly from the comfort of the sofa.
The hero huffs in annoyance but ambles over to the fireplace anyway, waving a feather duster over the surface.
It’s been a week since the villain found the hero hiding out in their pantry—and not to worry, the villain made them clean up all the blood in the kitchen once the police were lost to the city. “It’s my blood,” the hero had pointed out in a desperate attempt to stir sympathy. “I’m hurt.”
“Gross,” the villain had replied with exactly zero sympathy stirred. “Be a darling and disinfect it before I get hero cooties.”
The hero has also been unfortunate enough to discover exactly what the villain expects of a so-called maid. The villain’s getting a wonderful view of those world-famous heroic legs from here, the dainty maid’s dress riding up dangerously as the hero reaches up for the mantlepiece.
They’re also getting a fascinating look at the haphazard bandage on the hero’s arm, deep crimson soaking through the pristine white.
“[Superhero] already got his hands on you before you appeared in my kitchen?” they ask nonchalantly, and the dusting pauses momentarily.
“A bit,” the hero says unhelpfully. The superhero got them a bit? “I got away before he did any real damage, thankfully.”
“What’d you do then?”
The dusting starts again, though it seems more like an idle animation—thoughtless. Not really doing anything. “Something bad.” Also unhelpful. “I– I shared things with people I shouldn’t have.”
“Ooh, how juicy.” The villain chuckles, adjusting themself on the sofa to look at the windowsill behind them. “There’s dust on my vase, by the way.”
The hero glides across the room like some domestic ghost, all worried frowns and mindless motions. They pick the vase up and carefully brush over it with their duster.
The hero hasn’t really felt like sharing much, no matter how much the villain presses for some gossip. It’s only a matter of time before the villain inevitably dangles the hero’s stay here over them in a bid for information.
-
“Make me a coffee, would you?” The villain’s voice isn’t demanding, but the lack of pleasantries still makes the hero frown in annoyance. Would it kill them to say please?
They do it though, because they have to, in the way the villain’s demanded they do. Almost black, a sugar and the tiniest bit of milk. They’re not sure what the literal thimble of milk adds besides making it a quarter of a shade lighter, but they’ve never brought it up.
“It’s 11pm,” they comment when they appear in the villain’s bedroom doorway. They’re in the midst of preening in the mirror, smoothing over their coat.
“And I have a busy night ahead of me.” They take the cup from the hero with the faintest of smiles. “I’ll be out until early morning. Hold down the fort, and remember what I said.”
The hero can’t help but scowl. “Obviously.”
“What did I say, [Hero]?”
“No snooping.”
The villain positively beams. “Very good,” is all they give that as they turn for the door, forcing the hero to sidestep for them. “I don’t have much for you to do whilst I’m gone. Arrange the bookshelf, maybe? I don’t know.” They pause on the top stair. “Remember to get eight hours of sleep though, darling. You can’t work well when you’re tired.”
The hero nods shortly and then the villain’s on their way, traipsing down the stairs and casually slamming the front door.
Finally.
The hero darts back to the villain’s bedroom, taking some clothes from their wardrobe and shoving them on—they deserve to give back a little for how they’ve been treating the hero recently. Then it’s to the villain’s office.
It’s hard to take in the sheer amount of information at their fingertips from the doorway. There’s a lot of fuel in here—for the agency and the villains alike. It's a goldmine.
The hero hauls the nearest drawer open and starts rummaging, their ear trained on the door downstairs. There’ll be something in here they can hold over the villain. They know it.
(Next part)
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