Sauntering into her Mistress' office, the Widow definitely didn't expect to find an intruder waiting. Raising her fists ready for a fight, the young blonde was stunned when the stranger twisted around to greet her:
"Ah there you are!! Yelena Belova in the flesh!!"
Thrown off by this woman's forthright attitude and total lack of weapons, Yelena froze in place; genuinely unsure of what she was supposed to do. Was this stranger a friend? Or foe?! Neither made sense...
"Where's Director Hill??"
"Ohh I don't know; something about manipulating a Psycho Witch and Captain Feminism. Sounded machiavellian for sure."
Removing her purple sunglasses the woman smiled sharply. All too familiar with the dominant and their fake personalities, Yelena guessed who this person was before she even introduced herself:
"Valentine Allegra de Fontaine,"
Perching against the desk, the mature woman rested on her heels.
"And these boots are not made for walking-"
"-I know who you are."
"My legend precedes??" Laughing the Director shook her head:
"In that case call me Val."
Shrugging casually, the woman leant back against the mahogany surface as Yelena lowered her gauntlets:
"I don't report to the CIA."
"Nope. But your boss does."
Suppressing her surprise, nevertheless Yelena was blindsided by this new bombshell: after all a Widow hadn't worked for the government since SHIELD fell. And that was Natasha! At least, that's what Yelena had thought... Then again, why else would the Director of the CIA be hanging around in their base? A secret location that was supposedly known only by widows and their handlers??
Seeing through the girl's tough facade to the uncertainty underneath, Val just laughed:
"I can hear the gears turning honey." Taking a grape from the nearby fruit bowl, the brunette rolled her eyes:
"Of course Maria never told you about me; Classic Dom behaviour, am I right??"
Not responding to her joke, Val enjoyed testing the terse Widow; drinking in the young woman's curves with her sharp blue gaze:
"Don't be naive Belova. Who do you think Hill worked with after Fury? Me! I pick the targets! And by the way, I pay for all this!!"
Gesticulating to the expensive office, the purple-haired Director continued: "Off the books, of course... No way we want the CIA affiliated with your little 'Sub-Missions'. I mean, can you imagine the paperwork someone fucked one of you Widows??"
Blinking hard, Yelena shook her head; struggling to absorb all this new information, Russian accent lilting:
"So what, you are... partner??"
Val shrugged:
"If that's what you want to call it. Definitely a fellow member of the 'secret shadowy sex-cabal'."
"Meaning?"
Rising from the table, Val's jovial personality quickly turned sour as she approached the blonde:
"Meaning; I own your ass. And what an ass it is..."
Circling the Widow, Val whistled. Taking in the blonde's full curves from behind, grinning widely:
"So this is the new Romanoff... Very nice. I mean not quite as thick as old red, but a couple more lasagnas-"
"-Fuck off."
"Oooh Meow!" Val laughed: "Maria's new pussy has claws!"
Shaking her head, the Director's expression quickly turned dark:
"I suppose we could let you go. See how far you get before the side affects turn your brain to mush..."
Turning pale Yelena shrank at the implied threat. Tempted to break this woman's neck, the Widow knew she had no choice but to stand down and take the mockery. After all, apparently it was this CIA Director who paid for her medication. Two days off the stuff and Yelena would be a mindless drooling sex-machine; such was the way with chemically induced nymphomania. It was either that or fuck every two hours to release all that pent-up energy.
"Getting the picture now, you pretty little Nymph?? Romanoff was much more restrained. Of course she always bent over on command, like a good whore-"
"-Vhy are you here?!"
Tired of mind-games and manipulations, Yelena knew she was at this woman's mercy:
"Touchy... okay enough fun!"
Turning the screen around on Maria's desk, Val pointed to the image of Yelena's next target. Or in this case, targets:
"The Pym family has become way too powerful. We need them to implode. And of course, access to a sample of their secret resizing formula."
Reaching over the fine mahogany surface, Val grasped a steel box, opening it to show Yelena the contents.
Looking down on a row of red vials, Yelena raised an eyebrow:
"You already have it??"
"No Dummy," Val snapped, rolling her eyes: "We send in an Agent and Hank Pym will get his bitchy daughter 'the Wasp' to take it alllll back."
Holding up a vial, the Director explained:
"This here is the same pheromone that made you a Widow, weaponised to temporarily supercharge the sexuality of anyone who ingests it."
Studying the red tube Yelena bit her tongue; watching the chemical bubble behind glass. So this was the crap that had made her into a slave...
Val continued calmly:
"Just swap out the Pym particles with these and every time one of them puts on those ugly suits they'll get a dose of pure lust!"
Yelena shook her head; stunned by the CIA Director's nefarious scheme:
"What will that achieve??"
Val smiled dangerously, handing Yelena the case:
"Oh trust me; once the Pym's get a whiff of this stuff, they won't even realise their precious shrinking juice is all gone..."
...
Running up the street, Cassie Lang climbed the familiar steps of the red brick manor house, backpack bouncing off her behind as she ascended. Staring up at that familiar turret as she finally reached the entrance, the teenager grinned hopefully: Having skipped school again to get here the girl was in no mood to wait.
Knocking on the door, Cassie tapped the toe of her converse impatiently, the beautiful but rebellious teenager beaming as someone opened up:
"Grandma Janet!"
Tutting, the striking Elder Pym rolled her eyes as she hugged the girl:
"Grandma? Sweetie, you know we're not related, right?"
Ignoring the question, Cassie bounded past the white-haired scientist and into the wooden panelled interior of the house:
"Is my suit ready??"
Using the distraction, the Widow shimmied down the drainpipe and back down onto the lawn.
Sneaking through the hedgerow Yelena paused; chemicals clinking in the straps around her hip. Ducking just in time, the blonde avoided Janet's steely gaze before the scientist closed the front door.
Yelena had now been to several known Pym sites in the last few days; mixing and swapping vials so that any shrinking liquid was at least 50% Widow serum. As a result, the illustrious San Fran family had been exposed to a significant amount of pheromones, the kind that turned a respectable woman into a needy whore. And soon the Pym family would all be reaching boiling point...
