Primal Passions: Issue # 1- Beauty and the Beast
"I need a drink," said BlastZone as the security door slid open.
"You need to get your act together," chided G2 as the New Defenders wearily entered their secret headquarters.
"And you need to lighten up. I swear, if your anus gets any tighter, it's gonna crush your head."
T-Port snorted. G2 pinched the bridge of his nose and clenched his eyes shut, straining not to lose his temper. He spoke through clenched teeth.
"I'll relax when you grow up and stop taking so many idiotic risks. You two could have been killed back there."
BlastZone pulled off his goggles, leering.
"Yeah, but we weren't. In fact, I saved the day."
G2 cracked.
"You were lucky! That's all! If T-Port had been just a second late, you both would have been crushed! If you want to bring a warehouse down on your own damn head be my guest but don't expect your teammates to risk their lives trying to save your ass! You could have killed Monique!"
The team stared at their leader in silent shock. He was Mr. Protocol and Regulations, always cool as a cucumber, if a bit arrogant. Yet he had broken one of the most basic rules handed down to them by the Global Defense Force. He had called T-Port by her real name while she was still in costume. Such a mistake was beneath him. He was far more upset than they had realized.
While in costume, they were to refer to each other by their assumed personas only. While out of costume, they were to use only their real names. The rule was intended to help them protect their true identities. It would not do to call out to a teammate by his or her real name in the middle of battle or to refer to him or her by his/her alter ego while off duty in a public place. All it would take was one slipup to have paparazzi camped out on a member's parents' lawn and a cyborg assassin waiting to pounce in the bathroom of his/her favorite restaurant.
BlastZone looked down at the floor, jaw clenched. Perhaps the idea of being responsible for T-Port's death finally struck a nerve. He knew G2 was right and he hated it.
"Sorry," he grumbled. It was the most humble thing that the team had yet heard him say. He continued to stare down at the floor and began to grind his teeth. BlastZone did not take embarrassment very well. It is often followed by a lot of yelling and finger-pointing. Primal's nose flared at the mixing scents of hostility.
As usual, T-Port was the one to defuse him. "Still, you gotta admit, the look on Dr. Fossil's face when he saw that ceiling coming at him was priceless. He was all like, "Why me God?....Oh, yeah." She laughed.
"Well, I am glad that you think it was funny, but I do not," joined Grace, adding to the distraction. "I am never going to be able to wash the dinosaur blood out of my costume."
T-Port played along. "Just use a little club soda. My mom always said that club soda could get out anything."
The tension of the moment seemed to be ebbing away. They all breathed a little easier. G2 regained his composure. "Alright, hit the showers everyone."
Thorn hurried eagerly to wash off the smell of crushed tyrannosaurus eggs.
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After showering, Erica checked her locker only to discover that she had forgotten to stock it with clothes. She cinched her towel tighter around her frame and quickly dashed down the hall to her room. Although the women's washroom and sleeping quarters were on the complete opposite side of the headquarters from the men's, BlastZone's blatant disregard for decency and boundaries had led to some rather embarrassing incidences. Although he claimed that he was neither a peeping-tom nor an exhibitionist, she knew a pervert when she met one. Of course, the fact that her Thorn costume was the skimpiest female uniform on the team did not help the situation, but when your powers include sprouting razor sharp thorns from your skin, you are limited in the amount and type of clothing you can wear.
Once in her room, she put on a bra and some panties. She didn't own anything frilly; she preferred comfort over flair. Not that anyone ever got to see anyway. She slipped on a pair of soft red-plaid pajama bottoms and a faded black t-shirt bearing a grinning set of vampiric teeth framed by the once blood colored phrase "BITE ME." She brushed her still damp, shoulder length, black hair before heading back to "the lobby." The large central room was subdivided into a mess hall, conference room, security room, and lounge. The kitchen, armory, laboratory, living quarters and all other areas could be accessed from it.
Natasha and Monique were already talking in the lounge area. Erica grabbed a bottled water from the mini-fridge before sitting down on the large ottoman. All three looked up as Jason, Tyler, and Primal entered from the men's quarters. Primal was vigorously rubbing a beach towel over his head, trying to sap as much moisture from his fur as possible. Jason and Tyler seemed to be arguing again.
Tyler's voice was strained with frustration. "I was serious when I said I needed a drink. You know, the kind you find in a bar."
Jason was once again calm and condescending. "That's not a good idea. Your powers and alcohol don't mix well, and besides, you know that the GDF doesn't approve of inter-team fraternization outside of authorized outings at pre-approved locations."
"My God! It's happening! You're crushing your own head! Quick, unclench!"
Jason scowled. Monique bent over with a laugh. Primal rolled his eyes and flopped his massive form, belly down, on the sectional couch.
"Look, I won't lose control. I swear. I'll even wear the stupid inhibitor collar that Watchdog made. I can't lose control of my powers if I can't even use them."
"Maybe Ty's right," added Natasha. "We have not had much of a break between missions. A bar sounds fun."
Tyler grinned. "See. I knew the Russian chick would be up for a drink."
"I'm game," joined Monique. "I really wanna see whose ass I can kick at pool."
A quick look of betrayal flitted across Jason's face but he seemed to consider it in earnest.
Tyler renewed his taunting. "What's the matter rich boy? Afraid that you won't be able to hold your liquor?"
Jason stared stone-faced at Tyler. For a moment it seemed that their leader might lose his temper. His mouth twisted into a large exasperated smirk. "I can hold mine."
"You're on," declared Tyler in semi-mock challenge. "What about you Goth chick?" he asked Erica off-handedly. "Little hair of the bat that bit ya?"
Erica ignored his bad joke. She glanced at their impassive faces. Only Monique looked hopeful. Her eyes came to rest upon Primal. Although his eyes were closed as if he were snoozing, his ears were pricked expectantly. "No thanks. I'm not a big drinker. I think I'll just stay in," she replied.
Tyler shrugged indifferently. None of them really expected her to go. She had only gone out with them on a few occasions and even those excursions had been disasters. She didn't socialize well. She wasn't like them. Although somewhat superior, Jason and Natasha were elegant, polite and generally liked. While a spitfire, Monique was very compassionate and optimistic. Even Tyler was strangely charismatic in his own perverted, pig-headed way. Erica was shy, quiet and sometimes gloomy.
The four extroverts changed quickly into their clubbing outfits before assembling once again in the lobby and exiting through the door which would take them to the lowest level of the parking complex which camouflaged their base. Monique shot Erica one last apologetic look before the security door closed behind them. With the others gone, Erica relaxed a little more. She looked towards Primal expectantly. No longer feigning sleep, he raised his head and nodded towards the large plasma screen which occupied the nearby expanse of wall. She smiled gleefully and went to work. She walked quickly to the kitchen and popped a bag of popcorn into each of the two microwaves before dashing to her room again. Once there, she pulled a beat-up footlocker from under her bed and rummaged in it until she found the DVD she wanted. She hurried back in time to replace the one of the popped bags with a new one. Once all three bags were popped, she emptied all four bags into a large salad bowl which she them carried it back to the lounge.
Because they were often the only two team members left behind at the base, she and Primal had developed a routine. After the others left they would either watch movies or play games. Their last night in had consisted of checkers, cards and darts. Primal had beaten her almost every time. Tonight, however, was a movie night. Although they both enjoyed cheesy horror movies, Erica had discovered that Primal also shared in her secret love of Disney movies. They were her guilty little pleasure. No one knew that beneath her gloomy attitude and dark clothing was a hopeless romantic who enjoyed movies about talking animals and fairy-tale princesses. No one but Primal.
She set the bowl of popcorn down on the couch, next to primal. He gingerly reached his clawed hand in to take what would have been a mouthful for a human and popped it between his jaws, chewing it much the way a dog would. She hesitated before putting the DVD into the player. She really hoped Primal would not be upset by her choice for tonight's film. Making up her mind, she inserted the disc. After a few moments the movie menu came up. She pressed play before Primal could look up. She waited nervously for the movie to begin. After the first few unmistakable seconds of Beauty and the Beast, she turned around with a half apologetic look. Primal shook his head at her and rolled his ever expressive eyes. His silent sarcasm assured her that he was not offended by her choice. She smiled as she took a seat on the other side of the popcorn bowl.
They watched the movie in near silence for over an hour, occasionally challenging each other for dominion over the popcorn. When only a handful or two of the snack remained, she offered it to Primal. He tipped the bowl in his hands and poured the dregs into his maw. After laying the bowl on the floor, he yawned wide and lay down upon the couch, making sure to pull his feet and their talons away from Erica. She huffed with annoyance and pulled his feet along with his tail to rest upon her lap. Fear of getting scratched by a claw was silly to someone who could sprout giant rose thorns from her skin.
Erica looked at her best friend as he began to doze. Although his basic shape was the same as a normal human, there was something bestial in every part of him. Her eyes traveled the length of his form. His head was slightly blockish with a bear-like snout and topped with pointed wolf-like ears. His neck was longer in comparison to his body than a human's. His overly long, muscled arms ended in long fingered, clawed hands with leathery palms and fingertips, allowing him to easily walk on all fours as easily as he walked on two legs. Although most of his fur was light brown, the fur on his broad chest grew somewhat thicker and darker, tapering into a kind of treasure trail that covered but could not hide his six-pack abs. She nearly giggled as her eyes skipped over the extra-large black sports shorts that constituted his everyday attire. He was the only member of the team who wore less into battle than she did. Even with the shorts, she could just make out the border of the orange fur and black stripes which covered his thighs, differing from the brown of his upper body and calves. She tested the sharp tip of the nearly hawkish talons that sprang from the four toes of his feet, and the small spur which was once his fifth toe. Primal stirred and flipped onto his stomach. Her attention switched to the prehensile tail which protruded from a tailored hole in the back of his shorts. She followed the pointed tip of the tail up to the base where it became thicker. Her eyes continued upward to his lower back and the end of the dark silver-tipped mane which ran the length of his spine, starting at the back of his skull. Erica sighed. Although she understood more than the others, not even she could really know what Primal was going through. Even she could turn her powers on and off most of the time. Adapting to his new body could not have been easy.
Primal woke up from his nap in time to see the climax of the movie. Erica frowned when Beast began to revert back to his human form. She glanced at Primal eyes to gage his reaction. Even though every other part of him had changed, Primal still retained the same slate colored eyes that he had the day they met. Because he could no longer speak or show normal human expressions, Primal had come to depend on his eyes to do his talking for him. What Erica saw in them now was longing, longing for a happy ending that might never come. She stretched and yawned, before overtly turning of the t.v. Primal shot her a patronizing look to let her know that he was not fooled.
"What? I can't be tired? Even you took a nap. Then again, I imagine that I'd be tired too if I took on a T-Rex. All I had to deal with was a few raptors." Erica remembered vividly how Primal had latched onto the throat of Dr. Fossil's pet and hung on for dear life as it had flailed about and clawed at him with its stubby arms. She scooted closer in order to look at the scars on his ribs. She ran her finger gently down the length of the longest gouge.
"They're healing quickly. I guess being part animal has its benefits, huh?" She smirked up at him. He looked her in the eye and huffed as if saying, "meh." Her face broke into that smile that only Primal could give her. She continued to look into his eyes. The humor slowly melted from her face and was replaced by uncertainty.
Primal's eyes reflected his concern. ("What's wrong?")
Erica reached up and placed her hands on the sides of Primal's head. Before, he could respond she leaned in and kissed him on the end of his muzzle. She brushed her lips across his, the downy fur of his muzzle tickling her. Primal's body went rigid but he did not resist. Growing bolder, she brushed downward, pushing against his bottom lip and momentarily parting it from his top. She then mirrored the move by brushing upward against his top lip, parting it from his bottom. As she parted his lips, she slid the tip of her tongue between them. Primal jerked away quickly. Erica was silent as he stared into her eyes, his own unreadable. She waited for him to make the next move.
His gaze still glassy, Primal rose slowly from the couch and walked towards the hallway which led to the men's quarters. Erica sat quietly until she heard the electronic door to Primal's room slide open and shut. Fighting back tears, Erica hung her head and drew her knees tightly against her chest. "Damn it. I'm such an idiot."