Good to Be King

[Guido Carosella]

It didn't get much better than this.

Correction. It didn't get any better than this.

Guido Carosella leaned back in his hot tub, a martini in one hand and a hand-rolled Cuban cigar the size of a burrito in the other. He propped his dripping bunny slipper-clad feet* on the opposite side of the tub, and sighed as several pairs of feminine hands kneaded their way across the knotted muscles of his neck and shoulders. He glanced casually at a computer screen mounted near the tub as ratings information scrolled across it. He nodded in approval. That oughta keep Buckethead happy for a while.

The sheep were eating up the puppet show he blasted across their televisions, newspapers, computers and radios. The economy was golden. Magneto ruled benevolently from on high. Humans were in their rightful place as servants of homo superior.

But there were a few tidbits of dissent that somehow made their way to the public's eye. This was a free society, after all. At least for mutants. Everyone has a right to their opinion.

And you have to toss out some cheese to get the rats to come out of their holes.

Yes sir. It was good to be king.

*Why bunny slippers in the hot tub? 'Cause I'm Guido Carosella, bitch.

[psylocke]

What Betsy Braddock wants, Betsy Braddock gets. Her sole purpose in life is to be the best, live with only the best, and consider herself a national icon for the rest of her life. Being the personal assistant to the best business maker around was not a hard task for the telepath to accomplish. The overgrown powder puff man was a cinch to win over especially with the package that this woman held. She could make most men drool at her feet, but only those she could prosper from would matter.

As she strolled the penthouse suite, she pondered what reward the big man would bestow upon this woman once he found out her latest accomplishment. To get her way again, she made sure she looked absolutely irresistible and that wasn’t very hard. A soothing lavender scent covered her body as her cleanly shaven legs graced the floor in her soft cotton robe. Two champagne glasses were perfectly positioned between her delicate fingers that were laced with the newest shade of fiery red nail polish. In the other hand held the champagne she would celebrate with and hopefully aid in her order for something new.

But what would she ask for? A new car? Nah, she had a couple of those already. Hmm, a nice new amethyst pendant to match her earrings may be nice. She’d figure that out once inside the room. As she opened the door, she noticed the laughter of some roadside showgirls giggling their way into her man’s pocketbook. Not gonna happen.

So Betsy stood there, with her arms up to her sides, glasses and bottle dangling, with a smile. That smile would win her the spot that she rightfully deserved.

[Guido Carosella]

Guido's eyebrows leaped to his forehead, where they joined his single lock of hair. He swatted at the hands rubbing his shoulders, shooing their owners out the door. Betsy was the first filly in the stable, and commanded his full attention when she decided she was in the mood.

What a gal. Besides being obviously easy on the eyes, she was an absolute administrative genius. She was also deceptively strong, and lethal in close-quarters combat. Several people had met their end at her hand, some by his order, some because she decided she didn't like them. Few people knew that pretty face and swimsuit model body contained a remorseless assassin.

Never mind that she was an effing force of nature in the sack.

She wanted something, that much was obvious. When it came to Betsy, though, Guido didn't have a problem providing it. She was invaluable (in more than one way), and you had to keep good employees happy.

He stretched, flexing his massive arms and chest, and grinned his most ingratiating grin. "Hey there, babe."

[psylocke]

Her accentuating high heels clapped across the floor as the model made her way down the runway to her awaiting lover. His expression was something most men gave her especially wondering what, if anything, she had covering her body underneath that robe. An idle glare with only moving pupils gazed upon his little brainless blonds as they reluctantly left the hot tub. They knew if anything were going on in those pea pod brains of theirs, she’d simply make them believe they were runway models in the middle of some subway tracks downtown.

Once those pests were gone, she changed her glare to the most sincere smile she could conjure up, which to Guido wasn’t very hard. He was too busy looking at the package and what she was capable of in the office to really notice the act she played most of the time. There were, however, moments she questioned herself and thought of the possibility of love with this man. But first…success.

Placing the glasses and champagne bottle down on the ceramic tile, Betsy swirled her body around to be at the back of his neck. Her fingers traced down the large muscles of his neck and to the start of his enormous chest. She whispered seductively into his ear.

“Remember that little bout we had with the certain someone? Well, let’s just say, the tables have been turned my love.”

[Guido Carosella]

Oh, she was good. So very, very good. She knew just the spots to hit.

Almost as if she could read his mind.

He didn't deserve her. Wait, yes he did. He wanted the best, and there was nobody better than Betsy Braddock. Some would say a man of his size and strength didn't need a bodyguard, but Guido begged to differ. Fighting played hell on his manicure.

“Remember that little bout we had with the certain someone? Well, let’s just say, the tables have been turned my love.”

A slow, Grinch-like grin spread across Guido's face as he reached for the champagne bottle. "Have they? Do tell."

[psylocke]

Guido was one for detail. It’s how he became as successful as he was. That and the fact, he the brightest, most beautiful and talented woman by his side making all of this happen right under his nose. Betsy knew how to handle people and when they didn’t do as she wanted, she simply made them. It’s beautiful to have a power that can manipulate the mind. Wonderful and amazing things can happen.

Betsy simply ignored the man’s question. She wanted something and stopping at nothing to get it was the telepath’s specialty. Fingers trickled up and down his chest as her lips softly caressed his cheeks nibbling her way around to his own lips. A deep penetrating kiss landed on his own and she released with wicked seductive eyes.

Standing up, the purple-haired warrior untied her robe and stripped herself of the heavy material revealing her sensuous nakedness beneath. As elegant as a goddess, she stepped into the hot tub and slinkered her legs under the massive ones before her. With arms extended over the edge, she gave her lover another inviting look.

“Details are not important right now. Let’s just revel in the moment cause this lady is friskier than a cat in heat.”

[Guido Carosella]

POP.

Guido glanced up to where the champagne cork had embedded itself at a jaunty angle in the plasma screen across the room. Champagne was foaming out of the bottle that he never realized he was squeezing until now. She had a habit of causing such...reactions. The sexiest thing in the world was a woman who was composed and proper in the public eye, but a naughty little monkey behind closed doors.

He wasted no time in setting the bottle and his goggles aside, and lunging across the tub to her. She definitely wanted something, but she knew how to make one hell of a down payment.

Yeah, she smelled good all over.

(OOC: Much as I hate to, we should probably fade to black. ;D)

[psylocke]

....sometime later...

Out of breath and extremely satisfied, the purple haired telepath took a swig of champagne reveling in the act just fulfilled. Guido may have lacked somewhat in looks, but he was amazing in other areas, one which Betsy took full advantage of whenever and however she wanted. Sitting next to her lover curled up against his chest, she decided now was the time.

"I would like to ask you for something Tiger,", she started running her fingers up his heaving chest. "Is there any way, we can arrange for someone's head on a platter?" Her face remained down not visible to the strong man's eyes and she was grinning with an almost evil intent.

[Guido Carosella]

Aha. Look out below, here comes the other shoe.

He stroked her luxurious dark hair absently as he squinted down at her. She rarely asked his permission if there was someone in need of a good killin'. If she went to this trouble, it was going to be someone extremely...inconvenient.

He took a deep breath, and another long drag on his cigar. "Who ya got in mind?"

[psylocke]

All the telepath had to do was carry out her own intentions without Guido even knowing about it until it reached the printing office to be placed on that evening's six o'clock news. She knew this, but there was a plan. There was always a plan generating in Betsy's world.

Her fingers were now at the massaging level against his chest just reminiscing of how it felt against her skin. His large body never crushed her as easily as it could, but it was surely a great turn on. Her hand trailed up to his neck pulling him in for a long romantic kiss, something unbecoming of the mutant. However, this was a special occasion, and everything had to be just perfect.

"Someone whose been meddling in our affairs way too long now and needs to be taught not to mess with the best."

[Guido Carosella]

That didn't narrow it down at all. Guido had stepped on a lot of people to get to where he was now, and made more than a few enemies along the way.

There was a reason she was being so evasive. But why? Was she just trying to be an efficient assistant, and save him a headache? Or was it someone that he probably didn't really want dead?

Guido frowned as he took another drag off the cigar. Among many other things, Betsy was definitely discreet, and he trusted her discretion.

"Do what ya gotta do, babe. But keep it quiet."

He wondered why he felt like he just let a pit bull off the leash.

[psylocke]

Straddling her lover again, Betsy gleamed her mischevious grin into his eyes, or well goggles. Her hand delicately traced across his face. A finger ran seductively over his lips. Reaching in, she kissed the man who would give her anything she desired with more power and emotion than before. Killing put adrenaline in her blood and was almost euphoric.

After pleasuring her man one more time and making sure he was completely satisfied, the purple haired woman gracefully retracted herself from the tub. Can't get any wrinkles on her perfect figure, now can she.

While placing the robe around her, she winked at Guido before grabbing the straps of her heels with coiled fingers and placing them over her shoulder. Before leaving, she simply added to his comment.

"Quiet like a mouse."