Overkill

09 | nda

Moxie didn't blush often.

More often than not, Moxie made other women blush. She considered it a gift. There wasn't a lot she would call herself an expert on, but flirting with women was one of them. She had a lot of practice over the years. Scored points in a game she played with herself. Secretly wished she had been approached in the same way she often pursued other women. Moxie was used to caring more about others than what she received in return, unfortunately.

She forgot about all of that pent-up frustration as she watched Cruella Queen walk into the hotel lobby. It simply had to be impossible for someone to look even more beautiful every single time they appeared in Moxie's life, and yet there she was again sucking every ounce of magic out of the room until all of it rested in her glitter-encrusted fingertips, another seemingly impossible feat considering the city that rested just beyond the horizon. New Orleans was stunning and rich with a vibrant history, and it was Moxie's first time visiting, yet she couldn't take her eyes off Cruella the moment she flew into her personal orbit.

That meant not realizing Bronx Harlow was standing right next to her until they were close enough to smell her perfume.

"Mick expressly forbid me from mentioning that he had to jump in the shower last minute because he took a nap this afternoon while watching Criminal Minds and accidentally rolled over onto the jelly-filled beignets he had next to him on the bed."

If it was any consolation concerning his sister's betrayal, Bronx did not appear at all deterred from his not-date with Mick. Although Mick had quite easily agreed to alone time with Bronx, courtesy of Cruella's help, he insisted there was nothing more to it. Moxie would have ordinarily liked to give him the benefit of the doubt—that was an outright lie; it was her duty as his sister to heckle him over any and every guy he dared look at—but Mick made it a little too difficult.

"Poor bastard," Bronx said. After leaning down to whisper something into Cruella's ear, he started his walk toward the elevator. Moxie deftly slid him the spare hotel room key as he passed. "Have a good night, ladies."

"I will make sure to knock very loudly when I come back," Moxie announced.

Bronx laughed and waved two fingers above his head.

Moxie finally turned all of her attention back to Cruella. It didn't take an FBI profiler to deduce that she had no grounds to judge Mick for failing to hide his enthusiasm for his totally platonic and not at all attraction-filled hang out with Bronx tonight when she was, well, under eerily similar circumstances with Cruella. Who fucking knew Moxie could be such a hypocrite?

(Mick knew.) (He knew all too well.)

"Pink really is your color," Moxie commented.

Cruella dragged her finger gently down the side of Moxie's cheek. "Looks like it's yours, too."

"So, what's on the agenda for tonight?" Moxie asked after clearing her throat. "All you said was dress like an extra in Love Lies Bleeding."

She laughed and latched her fingers around Moxie's wrist, tugging until the two of them began their departure. Whatever plans Cruella had in store for the two of them, they had a long expiration date. Moxie warned her brother that she likely wouldn't return until sometime early tomorrow morning, and that she would suffer whatever consequences would arise on account of her night out, namely the incoming soundcheck before tomorrow night's show.

"Did you watch that yet?"

"I would've had my lesbian card revoked if I wasn't there opening night."

"Should've asked your mom to pull some strings to get you an invite for the premiere."