Kita leaned against Apocalypse's desk in the Oval Office. The camera crew busied themselves, setting up, checking lighting and sound, and testing their connection with the networks. Where is Kimmy? It shouldn't take this long to change. Kita finished hair and makeup twenty minutes ago. She wore her Imperial uniform, now with two metals—a Medal of Honor for redirecting the nuclear missile and another for the attack on the Illuminati base.
Around Kita, the crew took a knee. She remained seated on the desk. Her eyes met a crewmember, and he gave her a worried look. Sorry, pal. I kneel to no one. All the hair on Kita's arms and neck stood up as a painful tingle radiated in her nail beds and toes when she looked up. An assassin, here? She vanished, then realized the figure had a pair of silver and red wings. Kita gulped as Apocalypse crossed the room. I've never seen a Victorian-style look like this. The silver hooded leather and velvet calf-length jacket accented in red was stunning. Filigree dragons decorated the soft leather of the waist and cuffs, and dragon's heads decorated the lapel. A pauldron with a dragon's head on her right shoulder was similar in style to the one Kita wore. Kita became visible as Apocalypse navigated the cameras and crew.
When Apocalypse reached Kita, she said, "Rise," in sharp command tone. Everyone went back to work as Apocalypse turned to Kita. "How do I look?"
Kita raised an eyebrow looking down at the red-filigreed vest and silver button-up shirt with a popped collar open to reveal a silver dragon pendant. "My first instinct was to stab you in the back. But I've never seen an assassin dress so elegantly."
Apocalypse twirled, revealing the back and coattails of her jacket were more ornate than the front with buttons and silk panels. A red silk half cloak with an ornate silver leather cap hung from her right shoulder.
Kita caught Apocalypse and pulled her in for a kiss. She felt the double belted sash around Apocalypse's waist. Kita ran her hands down Apocalypse's sides until she hit something hard. Pulling the jacket back revealed two tomahawks stuck in belts hanging from Apocalypse's hips. Kita pulled out a tomahawk. She never liked axes. They didn't have the agility or balance of a sword. "You know how to use this?"
"I'm proficient. I found a teacher." Apocalypse took the ax and threw it at the far wall. It stuck with a thunk.
"Nice," said Kita.
"I wanted something that said Americana and that you weren't an expert on. I won't be challenging you anytime soon, but I have time. Hey, you!" Apocalypse pointed to a technician. "Bring me back my tomahawk."
"You don't want me to teach you?"
"I've heard you're...not a patient teacher."
"I thought I was getting better."
"I'd rather it not get between us."
Kita shrugged and touched Apocalypse's lapel. "This wasn't in your closet."
YOU ARE READING
Kita's life is one big struggle. Three years have passed since her dad died and she works nonstop to keep his junkyard dream alive while keeping her sexuality a secret in fear of what the town will do to her and her business. When Kita discovers she...