Chapter Text
As with the Transformers fic, I was sitting here and thought "Heh. Moon Knight Ava."
Also, Happy slightly belated Moon Landing Day!
————————————————
They’d gathered in the warehouse, her and Shannon bent over the old desk, then pain and fire, Shannon blindfolded, her gagged to mask her cries of pain. Then each leaving the room, returning separately as others arrived.
“The Church has abandoned us,” Mother Superion told them when they had fully assembled. “We may be civilians now, but we are still the Order of the Cruciform Sword and our duty remains. Vincent needs both the Halo and the Map to free his Master, and our task now is to deny him both. Go, scatter to the winds, and wait. Eventually, they will make a mistake and then we will gather and strike. Until then, live your lives. We will see each other again.”
They did as told, whispering goodbyes, and then the warehouse was empty with no trace of anyone having been there at all.
———————————————
Five years later . . .
Beatrice awoke with a yawn, feeling loose limbed and pleasantly sore. Ava was an . . . enthusiastic lover, and if it weren’t for the recuperative powers of the Halo, Beatrice suspected she probably wouldn’t be feeling as good she did, even with the endorphins coursing through her system.
Getting up, she threw on her boxers and a tank top and left the bedroom in search of her lover, finding her in the kitchen, wearing only boyshorts, tapping away at a her laptop and Beatrice could not have stopped herself from going to her even if she wanted too.
She stepped heavily. Ava was ex-army and still had her combat reflexes, as they’d found out early on. Surprise hugs were (sadly) off the table after that. Also Beatrice had had to buy Ava a new coffee table, but that was neither here nor there.
Ava’s head turned slightly, just enough for Beatrice to see her smile and then she turned her attention back to the computer as Beatrice stepped up, wrapping her arms around her hard flat middle, burying her nose in the crook of her neck. In her back, the Halo sort of . . . purred, and Beatrice had gotten the impression that it liked Ava.
Beatrice liked her too.
“Hey you,” Ava said warmly, one hand coming up to smooth Beatrice’s hair before going back to typing.
Hi,” Beatrice replied, giving her neck a quick kiss and starting to step back, but Ava grabbed her wrists. Taking Beatrice’s left hand, she planted it firmly on her right breast, then did the same for her right hand on her left. Then reaching back, she pulled Beatrice forward until she was pinned firmly between Beatrice and the counter, then she leaned forward ever so slightly, filling Beatrice’s hands with her breasts.
“There,” Ava said, satisfaction in her voice.
“Am I to be your bra today?” Beatrice asked, amused. She flexed her hands and Ava let out a hiss of pleasure.
“Mmm, just for the next five minutes or so,” Ava replied, “after that, we’re going back to bed so I can fuck your brains out and you mine.” She wiggled her hips slightly, grinding them against Beatrice. “And then breakfast.”
“It’s almost ten.”
“Lunch then. Now shush, bras are silent friendly helpers.”
Beatrice laughed softly, but obeyed, burying her nose back into Ava’s neck to drown in the smell of her and the sound of her breathing and typing. Occasionally, she would grind her hips against Beatrice, her breath hitching as she was also grinding against the counter. Beatrice would respond by squeezing and pushing forward to pin her tightly against the counter for a moment and Ava would groan slightly.
It was closer to ten minutes before Ava closed the laptop and pulled Beatrice’s hands from her breasts, turning around in her arms and throwing her own around Beatrice’s neck. “Now,” she said, “about that fucking.”
“At your pleasure,” Beatrice agreed.
“Damn right you are,” Ava said, kissing her. But no sooner had their lips touched than Beatrice’s phone went off with the ringtone she’d set for her work.
Swearing under her breath in three languages, Beatrice marched over to the charging pad on the table by the door and snatched up her phone.
As Ava watched, Beatrice’s face went through a variety of expressions, beginning with annoyance and then rapidly running through various stages of confusion, consternation, and finally careworn, where she actually massaged her temple. “Yes, fine. Tell her I’ll be right there. Ply her with mimosas.” She hung up and sighed nosily.
“No fucking?” Ava asked.
“No fucking,” Beatrice confirmed, heading back to the bedroom. Already she was shifting to her work mode; back straight, shoulders square, head held high, more enunciation. “I shouldn’t be more than several hours.”
“So its that drama one?”
“It is always her.”
Ava rolled her eyes as she followed, pulling on a crop top. Though they’d been neighbors for a few years and lovers for a few months, there was still frightfully little that Ava knew about Beatrice on a personal level. Whatever she’d done before she’d come to work at the city’s most exclusive art gallery and her meteoric rise to management, or details about her family, were things she didn’t like to discuss. She military bearing, but she’d been very emphatic that she’d been in security work, not the military and Ava had gotten the sense that she was estranged from her family.
Ava wasn’t exactly on speaking terms with her own family either. Her hand came up to toy with the three rings on the chain around her neck. Or JC’s family, for that matter.
Whatever. She didn’t judge.
“I will endeavor to make this as quick as possible,” Beatrice said, somehow back to looking absolutely professional. “And then return.”
“Return in something I can rip off you,” Ava told her, “I want you naked ASAP, understand?”
“Of course, Darling, you are quite clear.” Beatrice kissed her and Ava moaned into her mouth. “In exchange, I expect you to be already naked and waiting. Please do not disappoint me.”
Ava whimpered slightly as Beatrice turned and left, following her out to the living area to watch her leave. “Goddamn, that ass,” she said, admiringly.
SHE IS GOING TO BE TROUBLE.
Ava turned to look at the being in the corner. It was tall, spindly, with an oversized bird’s skull for a head and clad in white. One hand held a staff topped with a crescent moon.
“You hired me to fight,” Ava replied, “not be a nun.” She turned and walked back into the bedroom.
WHAT A DEPRESSINGLY IRONIC CHOICE OF WORDS.
———————————————————
Cairo, Egypt . . .
The smell from the nearby restaurant was driving her nuts and Ava latched onto the first thought that wasn’t food related. She crouched in the rooftop shadow across from the walled off corporate facility, and as she was wont to do when alone, voiced her thoughts.
“Maybe we should take up parkour. Might be a fun couples thing,” she mused, “avoid plateauing and shit.”
REALLY? YOU’RE THINKING OF THAT WOMAN? NOW?
“It’s something to do while waiting for the shit change.”
UGH. MORTALS SHOULD HAVE BEEN GIVEN MATING CYCLES SO I KNOW WHEN TO KEEP FAR AWAY FROM YOU.
“You want that, go read ABO fic. Reylo Modern AU’s are pretty good for that sort of thing.”
THANK YOU, BUT NO.
Ava opened her mouth to respond, when she saw the new guards walking out and old guards walking in.
“Time to go to work,” she said, her mask wrapping itself around her face. Then she was gone.
————————————
Beatrice felt twitchy and Hans must have picked up on it because he gave her a sympathetic smile as he brought her the morning’s paperwork for the bar. The Gallery had a wine bar, primarily for the benefit of the high-end clientele, but it was also the Gallery’s bread and butter income. They actually made more per month from the bar and selling prints than they did selling art.
“You okay?” He asked her. Like Ava, Hans was one of those people who made friends easily, he was just more subtle about it. He reminded her of Shannon in that regard. He was a tall thin german and the Gallery’s deputy manager, which was about as much responsibility as he wanted. His interest was in the bar, not the art, and Beatrice was happy to leave him to run things as he saw fit.
“Ava had to leave on a trip and I’ve been busy with the Egard show, so we haven’t had much time together.”
Hans nodded knowingly. “Climbing the walls, huh?”
“Like a spider,” Beatrice admitted.
“Well, anytime you want to ‘inventory the liquor storage’, let me know and I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed.”
“Please tell me no one actually does that in there. For God’s sake, Hans, that’s a heath violation.”
Her phone rang, the display showing Ava, and she gave a Hans a “we’re not done with this” look even as she pointed at the door to her office with one hand and answered the phone with the other. Hans grinned and left.
“Hello, Darling,” Beatrice said warmly, “are you back?”
“Yup, in fact, I’m at the front doors with some fresh chicken parmesan from Vito’s and Vic here refuses to believe that I in my leather biker jacket would have any possible reason to enter the gallery, much less know any employee.”
“Put him on,” Beatrice said.
“I do not know who you are, nor do I care to speak to some accomplice,” came the voice of the front desk receptionist. “Inform your confederate that I am contacting the police.” He hung up.
Beatrice swore in four languages and grabbed her desk phone, dialing the Front Desk.
“Yes, Ms Seaworth,” came the instant reply.
“Mr. DiAngelo,” Beatrice said coldly, “I would like you to take a good hard look at that woman in the leather jacket with the food bag that you are refusing entry to. Her name is Ava and she is to given access at any time unless I personally and directly order otherwise.”
“But she’ll lower the tone,” DiAngelo protested, “I’ll not have it.”
“How fortunate that the tone is my concern, not yours. Allow her in and direct her to my office.” Beatrice hung up, not giving him a chance to respond and then swore in four languages again. A knock at the door came a few minutes later. “Come in!”
“I do not understand how a painting of a trash can on its side is worth five grand,” Ava said, entering.
“It’s less the subject matter and more the use of color, light, and shadow,” Beatrice replied, eyes on the fact that the top two buttons on Ava’s shirt were unbuttoned, hinting, but not showing, cleavage and from the way the shirt formed to her breasts, Beatrice was fairly sure that Ava was wearing a push-up bra.
As though to confirm it, Ava casually flipped open the third button, revealing compelling swells of flesh. “Food first, then tits,” she said, grinning.
“A cruel bargain,” Beatrice replied dryly.
“Yeah, yeah, spank me later.” Ava began unpacking the food and plastic utensils while Beatrice got two bottles of water from the mini fridge.
“How was Cairo?” Beatrice asked.
“Boring. The car was a shell over some kind of rat rod made out of junkyard parts, the sun was trying to kill everyone, and apparently my ring is a cue to hit on me even after informing the guy that I’m a widow. Being able to look out the window of a pizza place directly at the Great Pyramid is always cool, though.”
Beatrice nodded. Ava rarely spoke of it, but she had been married to another soldier and she wore both their wedding rings and her engagement ring on a chain around her neck as well a steel ring enameled black on her ring finger. She’d also been very emphatic that while done with mourning, she couldn’t make herself take them off yet. It was part of why Beatrice hadn’t brought up the subject of formalizing their relationship yet, though she thought Ava was starting to drop hints about it.
“Anyway,” Ava took a bite of her food, “you ever think about taking up Parkour?”
“I used to practice the basics,” Beatrice admitted, “though it’s been a while. Why do you ask?”
“Oh, just looking at the buildings and streets in Cairo made me think about it. They’re pretty close together and narrow in some spots and you could probably cover some serious distance.”
“I believe there’s a parkour gym not too far from our building. I’m not averse to giving it a try, though I don’t know when that will be.”
“Packed schedule in the art world, huh?”
“Four major showings in the next four months,” Beatrice admitted. “The good news is that I believe I have it ‘down to a science’, as the saying goes, and it should free up some time for us.” Her eyes dropped to Ava’s cleavage. “And we could use that, I think.”
“You’re climbing the walls too, huh?”
“It’s all I can do not to have my way with you on this very desk.”
“Not opposed to it, though I can tell you that not even a general’s office is that soundproof.”
Beatrice raised an eyebrow at that. “Personal or observed experience?”
“Yes,” Ava grinned. She made eye contact as she finished the last of her meal and then stuck her spoon in her mouth, slowly withdrawing it and giving it a little lick as it popped free, then did the same with her fork and knife.
Beatrice’s breathing became hoarse, her palms pressing into the desktop hard enough to leave impressions, her eyes not leaving Ava’s lips.
Ava buttoned up the third button and then came around the desk. “You are mine tonight,” she said, leaning down and kissing her. Beatrice kissed her right back, moaning as she did, her hand came up to grab Ava’s shirt.
“I’m really not sure this is the best way to acquire and retain our clientele, though it does seem effective.”
Ava jerked upright, a ripping sound filling the hair as part of her shirt came away in Beatrice’s grip, and there was a slight blush to her cheeks as she zipped up her leather jacket before she turned to face the speaker, Beatrice shooting to her feet beside her.
At the door was a thin woman, red-blonde hair and impeccably dressed. She seemed deeply amused.
“D-Doctor Salvius!” Beatrice gasped, her face red. “A-Ah-Av-“
“We’re a thing,” Ava summarized, “just wrapping up a lunch date.”
“A very good one, apparently.”
Ava shrugged. “It was okay.” She held out her hand. “Ava Silva.”
“Doctor Jillian Salvius.”
“The Cybertech lady, right?” Ava began to clean up the cartons, piling them all back in the bag along with the used napkins and utensils.
“How succinct,” Jillian laughed. “but I also own this place. Beatrice, why is there a painting of a bin on its side?”
Beatrice had recovered her composure. “It’s a Rossini. She billed it as a commentary on consumerism, but she is more known for her skill at light, shadow and color composition, which is why I accepted it. I will have it removed immediately.”
“No, no. I pay you to make decisions about what we display and no doubt someone with more money than sense will buy it. In fact, knowing Rossini, she’s counting on it. That aside, I’m here was to discuss the upcoming showings.”
“Sounds like my cue to leave,” Ava said. She picked up the trash bag. “Don’t worry about the shirt, Bea, I picked it up at the thrift store for three bucks and it did what I needed it to do.” She grinned. “Nice to meet you, Doc. See you tonight, Bea.” She left.
“What an interesting woman.” Salvius said, setting a tablet on the desk.
“She is an experience,” Beatrice agreed.
———————————————
As a rule, Date Night was on Tuesdays and on the night everything changed, the date was a production of Rent performed under improv conditions with random props, followed by an excellent dinner. Then they walked to a wine bar with an off street courtyard and Ava ordered them a bottle of red before they sat at a courtyard table. The only other person there was a server, rolling up napkins and silverware.
“I want to talk about moving in together,” Ava said with her usual bluntness.
“I’ve had that idea myself,” Beatrice admitted, “but we have not formalized our relationship, which itself is only a few months old. And you’ve said you’re not ready to take your rings off and I don’t want you to feel pressured to do so before you’re ready. Furthermore, would it be my place, yours, or something together?”
“You are such a sweetheart,” Ava said smiling, gently. She leaned across the table and kissed her. From the corner of her eye, Beatrice saw the Server flash them a thumbs up. “As far as the formalities, let’s be honest, we’ve pretty much done everything except call ourselves ‘girlfriends’ or ‘partners’, yeah? I’m all for grand formalities and wearing novelty plastic rings or something if you want a symbol though.”
‘True,” Beatrice admitted, “although plastic novelty rings are probably a bit much.”
“Heresy!” Ava mock gasped. “As to the relationship, we were hanging out together literal years before we wound up on your floor tearing each other’s clothes off. I mean, we’ve pretty much covered the whole getting together part.”
Beatrice blushed slightly. Ava had looked particularly good in her workout outfit that day and upon returning to her place for post workout smoothies, they’d looked at each other and had just felt it. Afterwards, the one thing Beatrice hadn’t felt was regret. For once, the voices of her parents telling her what a failure she was had been silent.
“As to which unit, I’m thinking mine. Your lease is up in August, I think, and mine in February. We’re in my place more often than not anyway, so I’m thinking you move into mine, and then in January, we make a further decision.”
“You’ve been thinking about this,” Beatrice marveled.
“Honestly? I asked my boss for advice, this is all her. She also said that if you’re changing units within the building, you might not even be dinged for breaking the lease, especially this close to its end.”
Beatrice considered. Ava was correct on all points, and she had nothing to lose by inquiring.
Ava refilled her glass and downed it. “As for the rings . . . you’re not wrong, it’s just . . . they’re all I have left of JC and I had to fight for that. His family pretty much looted our quarters, I was banned from his funeral - they gave the flag to his mother - and his aunt cornered me and demanded I hand over both the wedding rings and the engagement ring. She said that they were never mine to begin with, that we had a fake marriage put on by the Army for the PR. That I looked like a child and she would not have him remembered as a creep. She even accused me of having something to do with his death.” There were tears in her eyes. “Who the fuck says that kind of shit to someone?” She picked up a napkin and wiped her eyes. “Even today, she and some of the cousins regularly send me emails bashing me, harassing me. I get comments on my YouTube channel from complete strangers dragging me for it, which is ironic because JC enlisted to get away from his family.” She drank wine. “He’d have liked you, I think.” She smiled a sad smile. “If he came back now, saw us, he’d have just given me a hug, told me to get it and then asked you if you knew any single guys.” Ava shook her head. “I’m into you one hundred percent, Bea, please believe that, but I miss him. I miss him so much.”
Beatrice reached across the table and wrapped her fingers around Ava’s hand. “I do believe you, Ava, and I will never ask you to forget him, but he’s also a ghost you need to exorcise so he can take his proper place in your memories. You have my full support, but . . . I must be blunt; you need therapy.”
“So no going home and you fuck his ghost away?”
Beatrice laughed. “If it were only that simple.”
“If only it were. No, I mean, you’re right, I just prefer action to words, I guess. You know, punch first, maybe ask questions, then punch again, that’s me.”
“I know, and I do adore that about you, but I will not play second fiddle to a ghost. Promise me to work on that, and I promise to be there for you every step of the way.”
Ava linked their pinkies together. “I promise.” She leaned over the table and they kissed again. “So girlfriends?”
“Girlfriends.”
“Uh, hey, it’s great that you two have settled like, major relationship stuff, but we close in ten minutes.” The server stood a short distance away.
“Sorry,” Beatrice said, embarrassed, as Ava dug for her wallet.
“It’s cool,” Ava told her, “there any baked goods left? I think you got some chocolate cake muffins or something? Two of those if you do.”
“Sure, I’ll look.”
They finished the wine as the server went back in, then returned with a single large muffin in a bag and the bill.
“Only one left, and uh, here’s where I go,” the server said, setting down some receipt paper with a name and phone number. “I mean, for therapy and shit. He’s pretty good, got me my meds.” She tilted her head, showing small earrings in the trans pride flag colors. “Tell him Nadia sent you.”
“No better endorsement,” Ava replied. She and Nadia bumped fists.
—————————————————
Ava paid the bill, Beatrice supplied a generous cash tip and they left the wine bar in high spirits, splitting the muffin between them as they walked.
“So when do you want to do the moving thing?” Ava asked.
“One step at a time,” Beatrice said, “let me make inquiries about my lease first.”
Ava laughed, but she picked up the pace. Beatrice did too, immediately seeing why. A number of individuals had emerged not only from an alleyway they’d just passed, but another one across the street as well. Ten or twelve in all and they were clearly following them.
Her mind began developing strategies. The main task was getting Ava out of here. Sure, Ava had combat skills, but she wasn’t trained for multiple opponents like Beatrice was, nor did she have the Halo to give her an edge.
Weapons? She’d taken her bo staff with her when the Order disbanded, it was collapsed and in a hidden pocket, and she had sone cheap throwing knives purchased from Amazon, but that was it.
She glanced back to see if she could assess weapons and her blood turned cold. Two had demon faces. Now she definitely had to get Ava to a defensible position, then she would have to figure out how to explain to Ava about the Halo.
Up ahead, she saw an alley next to a building tall enough and old enough that there should be a fire escape. She could defend a fire escape and clambering up might induce a resident to call the police. If that happened, he would have to come back and deal with the demons later, which went against her oaths, but Ava mattered more.
It was as good a plan as any.
“Run,” she said, barely registering Ava saying the same thing at the same time.
In unison, they both headed for the alley, finding a fire escape almost immediately, pushing and pulling each other up it until they were both on the roof.
“Stay here, I’ll lead them off,” they said in unison and then blinked, realizing they had both said the same thing at the same time.
“Ava?” Beatrice questioned.
“Bea, I . . . look, I’m going to do something . . . weird and I promise I’ll explain after, but I can’t do this unless I know you’re safe up here.”
“I too, am going to do something ‘weird’ and need you to be up here and safe.” Beatrice said.
They stared at each other for a moment.
“We’re both keeping major secrets, aren’t we?”
Down below, the first of the men were making their way up.
“We are out of time,” Beatrice said. She pulled out a bandanna and tied it around the lower half of her face. “Do you see the two men in the red jackets?”
“You mean with the white eyes and more teeth than the Osmond family?” Ava’s clothing was metamorphosing into thin white ribbons that wrapped around her body and her eyes were glowing.
“You can see that?” Beatrice asked, pulling out her staff.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“It makes explanations easier. They’re possessed by demons. I need to isolate them so I can exorcise them.”
“Which involves what?”
“I beat them up until the demons leave and then I kill the demons.” From the end of her staff, the Divinium blade popped out, glowing blue.
“My kind of exorcism,” Ava grinned as a white mask formed over her face, highlighting her glowing eyes. She was dressed in a white version of a stereotypical ninja outfit that covered her head to toe and some sort of crescent moon was embedded in her chest. She held out her hand and a Khopesh sword as white as her outfit materialized.
“And then we need to leave in case a giant fire demon senses my power and comes looking for it.”
“We’re gonna need more wine later, aren’t we?”
“First there has to be a later.”
“Point. Okay, divide, conquer, kill demons. Let’s fucking go.” With that, Ava vaulted down the fire escape, Beatrice with her.
As it should be.
—————————————
The fight and exorcism had taken almost no time at all and then Ava insisted on traveling to the edge of town to meet with her boss for explanations.
Most of Ava’s income came from a YouTube Channel where she made things or did metal casting or even just carved stuff. The rest of it came from a part time job where she maintained the car collection of a wealthy widow. Except that was a cover and the widow, Layla El-Faouly, had been married to Ava’s predecessor. She’d seemed oddly unsurprised when Ava and Beatrice had turned up on her doorstep, Ava apologetic, but not regretful as she explained what had happened.
“Marc made his money as a very highly paid mercenary,” Layla explained as they walked through the mansion’s halls. She was thin, but solidly built with a mass of curls for hair and piercing eyes. Works of art adorned the walls and display cases were everywhere. “But, he was not . . . well, and the horrors he’d seen . . . and committed, weighed on him. He sought redemption and found it in the service of Khonsu, the Moon God of Vengeance.”
“And assholery,” Ava added. “He’s a grade A asshole,” she said to Beatrice.
Beatrice racked her brain, trying to remember everything she could about the Egyptian Gods, which wasn’t much. The OCS’ mandate had been demon hunting, not mythology, so Beatrice only had ancillary knowledge.
They entered a richly furnished library and Layla sat them in comfortable chairs before sitting down across from them.
“Marc died almost three years ago,” Layla continued, “and while he died saving the world, Vengeance doesn’t rest. There must be a Moon Knight, and Ava was chosen almost immediately. Khonsu asked me to train and advise her.” She looked at Beatrice. “And you, you’re the Warrior Nun, aren’t you? I’d always thought you were a myth. One more rumor about the Church.”
“You’re a nun?” Ava yelped, “I’ve been fucking a fucking nun?”
Mother Superion was not going to be happy with her. “I bear the Halo, yes,” Beatrice said, “though I’m not a nun, not any more. Our order was dissolved and I came here to hide both myself and the Halo while we wait.”
“Wait for what?” Layla asked.
“Our order had an advisory priest, Father Vincent. He was a father figure to many of us. Kind, respectful, knowledgable. But then someone tried to kill Shannon, my predecessor, with a bomb. She escaped by sheer luck, but then the Halo showed her visions, visions which contradicted our entire history.” Her fists clenched. “We are taught that the Halo was bestowed on a Spanish Noblewoman named Areala who sold her lands to raise an army to fight the Moorish invasion of Spain. When she fell in battle, the angel Adriel descended to Earth and bestowed his halo on her, a reward of her faith and bringing her back from the brink of death. Now mortal, he stood at her side, advising and helping her until his own death. Areala built him a tomb deep underground and sealed it, then she herself fell in battle shortly afterwards. Our Order was founded in the wake of her death by the women who followed her and took up arms; one the Halo Bearer, the rest her sisters and allies, supported by the Church. Shannon’s vision told a different story. A story where Areala realized that Adriel was not an angel, but a devil and that Areala didn’t bury him, she imprisioned him and he has been trying to enlist followers to find him and break him out ever since. Worse still, his followers are everywhere at all levels of Church government.”
“Okay, but if he’s not an Angel, then what’s the Halo?” Ava asked.
“We’re . . . not sure. The revelation that our Order was built on a lie caused several schisms and Cardinal Duretti, who oversaw the Order on behalf of the Pope, convinced his Holiness to dissolve the Order entirely. But it also forced Vincent’s hand and caused him to reveal himself. He claimed that Adriel had promised him a new world, a better world, one where the Church could and would do better. But for that, Adriel needed the Halo, and the easiest way to get it was to kill Shannon.”
“Wait, isn’t Durretti the name of . . .” Ava frowned in concentration.
“His Holiness Pope Gregory the Seventeenth, yes,” Layla told her.
“Adriel’s prison is somewhere under the Vatican,” Beatrice explained, “beneath the catacombs. The only way to find it is a document known as the Medici’s Map. So our Mother Superion concocted a plan. Shannon would give up the Halo to one of us, another would take the map and we would scatter. Hide and wait for Vincent or someone close to him to make a mistake. Then, gather and strike.” Beatrice let out a breath. “We have been waiting for five years.”
ADRIEL IS NO DEVIL.
Standing just behind Layla was a giant of a being, dressed in white, carrying a white staff, and had a head like an oversized bird skull.
“Gah!” Beatrice exclaimed, leaping backwards and out of her chair, the Halo flaring in her back.
WELL IF YOU HAVE THAT LITTLE CONTROL NO WONDER AVA FELL FOR YOU.
“Beatrice, meet Khonsu, God of the Moon, Vengeance, and Assholery,” Ava said.
I AM A GOD, DON’T YOU THINK I DESERVE AT LEAST A LITTLE POLITENESS?
“You hired me to fight evil, not be nice to you.”
I’D THOUGHT IT WAS IMPLIED.
Ava was smirking and despite the lack of expression, Beatrice thought Khonsu seemed rather amused by her insolence.
“I am honored to meet you,” Beatrice said, walking over to Khonsu and holding out her hand.
HMPH, YOU HAVE MANNERS, AT LEAST, Khonsu replied, shaking her hand. His grip was dry but firm. ADRIEL IS FROM A WORLD WHERE SCIENCE AND MAGIC ARE THE SAME THING. HE WAS IN LINE FOR THE THRONE, BUT HE ADVOCATED WAR ACROSS THE REALMS, FINISHING WHAT ODIN AND HELA STARTED. HIS SISTER REYA WON THE THRONE INSTEAD AND HE CAME TO EARTH SEEKING A NEW ARMY, INTENDING TO LEAD THEM BACK AND TAKE THE THRONE.
“Okay, I want to circle back to the whole ‘Odin and Hela are ruthless conquerors part’,” Ava said, holding up one finger, “because that sounds like a whole thing, but right now, all I care about is that some douchebag priest is hunting Bea and the only one who gets to do that is me.”
Beatrice’s mind betrayed her, envisioning running through . . . somewhere while Ava stalked her like some sort of jungle cat, wanting to escape, but also wanting to be caught because then Ava would—
UGH, YOU’RE AS BAD AS SHE IS.
Whether the God could read her mind or had made a lucky guess, Beatrice wasn’t sure, but she stammered out an apology anyway.
AGAIN WITH THE MANNERS. Khonsu looked at Ava. YOU COULD LEARN A FEW THINGS FROM HER, YOU KNOW.
“I already have,” Ava replied, “like when I put my fingers—“
Beatrice clapped her hand over Ava’s mouth. “I will not apologize for my feelings for Ava, but am I correct in that the mission of the Halo Bearer and the mission of the Moon Knight are the same, or at least similar?”
YES.
“Then I propose we work together. I could use Ava’s help when the time comes to strike back and I will not let her face danger alone when I can help.”
“Not like I’m gonna let you face danger alone either,” Ava said, pulling Beatrice’s hand from her mouth and giving it a kiss. “Sorry, Boss, you got a package deal now.”
HOW VERY DISTRESSING, Khonsu said, seemingly not distressed at all.
——————————————
“It’s purring.”
They were on Ava’s bed, both stripped to the waist. Ava knelt behind Beatrice, arms around her waist, head pressed to her back.
“It does that around you,” Beatrice told her, “I think it means that it likes you.”
“I like it too,” Ava replied, pressing a kiss to her back.
The Halo rumbled with what felt like happiness.
Beatrice had more questions about Ava, about why she’d been recruited as the Moon Knight, but as Ava began to kiss her way up Beatrice’s back, she filed them away for another time. Besides, she thought, as Ava leaned against her to get to her jaw and her necklace pressed against her skin, she was pretty sure the answers lay with JC.
Ava pulled on her chin to turn her head so they could, kiss. Sweet, passionate kisses, and she pulled Ava around her hold her.
Questions could wait. JC could wait.
Tonight would about them.
——————————
NOTES
I’m marking this as a one-off because while I have more ideas for this ‘verse, this seemed fairly stand alone and I need to work on my one shot skills. So if you like it and want more, or just want to tell I’m a madman, let me know in the comments.
Alternate Summary: She was the Moon Knight, She was the Halo Bearer in Hiding, can I make it any more obvious?