Villains Wear Masks
Chapter 3: Going through the motions

“So, we’re stuck on the most dangerous planet in the galaxy, we don’t have our powers, and you’re optimistic how?”

~ Mike Mathews (Mon-El)

Celeste Moctezuma was having the time of her life.

Of course, that wasn’t the response of most people when they were faced with a raging wall of fire, but, then again, Celeste Moctezuma wasn’t most people.

Celeste also doubled as Artic Frost, the infamous nemesis to Wild Fire. They were polar opposites, and they absolutely hated each other.

“Come on, Blaze. Is that really all you got?” she taunted, rolling as a spare fireball was launched her way over the wall of fire that separated her from her arch enemy.

The blaze got even larger in response to her nagging.

“Come on, Frosty. Aren’t you going to fight back?” he taunted in response, shooting more fire in her direction.

Celeste smirked. The hero really overestimated his own powers.

A sudden cloud of frost descended on the floor of the warehouse they were fighting in. The wall of fire sputtered out in the cold frosty air, giving Celeste a good view of the red-clad hero who she fought on a weekly basis. She also clearly saw the giant blackened hole in the wall where Wild Fire had blasted in to the warehouse.

Before he had so rudely interrupted her, she had been trying to rob Mr. Schow of the Schow Corporation of a very pretty Victorian era painting that he’d bought off of an illegal trade dealer. The necklace she’d robbed from his wife three months ago got her a lot of money, and this steal was going to do the same for her. She would sell the painting back to the British museum it was originally stolen from, giving herself a big payday and keeping something priceless out of the hands of a money hungry CEO.

Or, well, that had been the plan until Wild Fire sabotaged her jump.

Mr. Schow, his bodyguards, and the precious painting were currently cowering in the Schow Corporation private jet, away from the two fighting supers.

And, even though her plan was being foiled, Celeste was happy. She was in her element.

“Looks like your fire’s don’t burn as bright as you think, Hothead.” Celeste smirked, popping her hip. “You can give up now and let me take my prize.”

Wild Fire clenched his fists and they erupted in flames. “You know I can’t do that, Elsa.”

“You’re all talk and no game.”

The fire got arguably higher in Wild Fire’s hands. “You really want to place that bet, Ice Queen?”

Celeste paused for a moment. “I actually like that nickname. It’s quite fitting.”

Wild Fire stood straighter. “Oh, thanks. I spent some time thinking of that one.”

She smiled slyly. “And Queens don’t bow down to peasants.”

“I’m not a-”

The hero was silenced with a gust of icy wind, hitting him straight in the gut. Celeste kept the ice air circulating over Wild Fire as he struggled on the ground. She slowly glided over towards him, watching gleefully as he writhed and the frost started to ice his spandex.

She’d been growing stronger in the past few months; refining her skills. In fights she noticed Wild Fire getting distracted. It really started a couple of months ago, back when Momentum first showed his face. Maybe he was worried about the new hero or maybe he was worried his turf was going to be taken from him, but, all the same, Wild Fire had been acting stranger ever since. It was making it easier for Celeste to win her battles.

“What’s that? You seem to be a little cold. Do you need a blanket? How about a nice cup of hot chocolate?”

Wild Fire was a little incapable of answering as he shivered on the floor. Of course, if at any point she lost concentration and stopped icing him, he would warm up immediately. The drawbacks of her nemesis having the power to create fire.

Celeste bent down to his level and lightly ran her fingers over his face. “How easy do you think it would be to take off your mask right now? To see the face behind my greatest enemy?” Celeste tightened her fingers on the edge of his mask. All it would take was one tug and it would fall off. One movement and she could have blackmail material on one of the most influential people in the city, hell, even in the state. She could do anything, get anything.

And then there was a loud bang behind her. Celeste turned to see Mr. Schow at the exit to the private jet, trying to juggle the expensive painting in his hands and go down the stairs at the same time, obviously trying for a discrete exit from the warehouse.

But, the break in concentration was enough for Wild Fire to break free.

Celeste was blasted back ten feet into the wall by an explosion of fire. She was only spared serious damage by a soft cushion of snow she had made earlier in their fight.

(It involved trying to make an evil snowman.)

(Don’t ask.)

Wild Fire sauntered over to Celeste’s crumpled form, all confidence now that he wasn’t shivering in the fetal position on the ground with blue tipped lips. Now it was Celeste who was trapped, overwhelmed by the heat Wild Fire was leeching off of his body. It felt like a sauna. The snow she’s landed in melted into vapor in seconds and her lips chapped in the dry air.

Ow.

Wild Fire bent down to her level, reaching out to her face like she’d down to him moments before.

Even as she was getting stronger due to his lapses in concentration, Celeste noticed when he was paying attention to the battle he was actually doing well. Really well. Whatever was distracting him also gave him strength.

Celeste really hated that.

“How easy do you think it would be to take off your mask right now? To catch a glimpse of my most infamous enemy?” He taunted, framing her face but not actually touching it.

At least he had boundaries, even with crazy psychopathic villains.

“Fuck you,” Celeste managed to squeeze out of her dry mouth.

Even while defenseless she wasn’t letting him win.

Wild Fire laughed and went back up to a standing position, rubbing his chin. “Even if I took off your mask, it wouldn’t make a difference. The chances that I know you are slim, and I’m not one to take advantage of someone when they can’t fight back. When I replace out your identity it will be when the rest of the world does, when you’re being carted off to Alcatraz to pay for all of your crimes.”

Celeste chuckled, enough to startle Wild Fire into letting his heat rays to fall back for a moment. A moment was all she needed to gather up her inner cold heart and counter act his heat. She stood in front of him slowly, the air around her swirling with snowflakes. Wild Fire impressively stood his ground.

“We both know you’ll never take me there any time soon.”

Wild Fire shrugged, something Celeste saw as awfully optimistic on his part. “We both know you’ll get your justice one day.”

Celeste sent an icicle his way. He dodged it with a sidestep and blasted a fireball her way. She put up a wall of ice to counteract it and sent more ice at him. They went back and forth viciously for minutes like that. A game they had played too many times before.

And, then, Mr. Schow stepped a little too close to the battling couple and used his priceless Victorian painting to keep the damage away from his face. One side of the painting ended up burnt black while the other half ended up with freezer burn.

“My painting!” he screamed.

Celeste sighed. Well, there went a good bonus.

Her reason for fighting was gone; there was no reason for her to stay.

When Wild Fire looked back to arrest Artic Frost, she’d already left. A small pile of snow left in her wake.

They both had somewhere else to be.

Celeste hurriedly tucked a hair behind her ear as she walked down the street. She had to change discretely in a public bathroom near the airplane hangar from her white and blue icy spandex Artic Frost costume into normal pedestrian clothes. From there she had to take the public bus over to Kingdom Hills. The people in the bus had no idea who they were sitting next to had just been wearing a white wig and shooting ice at their favorite hero.

When she got out of the bus Celeste realized she still had the small backpack that contained her suit in her hands. She hadn’t had time to stash it at her house or at the jewelry store where she did most of her dealing.

She hadn’t been thinking straight.

What was wrong with her? If it had been three months ago she wouldn’t have been making careless mistakes like this. Three months ago she wouldn’t have let a detail like where she was going to hide her super suit slip her mind. Three months ago she wouldn’t need to have to worry about hiding it because she would be going straight home.

Three months ago she didn’t know Ross Gustin.

They had made plans for the study session a week ago, before Mr. Schow had bought the priceless Victorian painting she had tried to steal earlier. When Celeste had found out about the painting, she figured she had enough time to snatch the painting and go over to Ross’s house.

(Yeah, she would’ve had enough time if Wild Fire hadn’t attacked.)

So, the result was Celeste fast walking down the street from the bus station to Ross’s house, out of breath and frazzled. Her hair was probably fizzy from being under her Artic Frost wig and her face still most likely shining with sweat. She probably didn’t look attractive.

But, wait. Why did she care? It was just a study date.

No, a study session, not a date.

When she arrived at the Gustin residence she got the same feeling of envy that she always did, though it was steadily lessening with every visit. Ross lived in Kingdom Hills in a big comfortable house. He didn’t need to worry about the power cutting out because you forgot to pay the landlord rent. He didn’t need to worry about the neighbors putting on too much of a ruckus as they fought over random things. He didn’t need to worry about the fact that the tenants above him may be drug dealers.

But, every time she got that feeling of strong envy, she had to remind herself that there was more than the façade of a white picket fence.

It was relatively harder than it should’ve been for Celeste to break down her predisposed stereotype of people like Ross. She had grown up her entire life being looked down upon because of her class and race and gender – things she couldn’t change. People like the Gustins didn’t have those stigmas surrounding them and took them as an opportunity to judge her for her faults. It was one of the reasons why she didn’t ever want to be a hero. Why be a hero when everyone already expects you to be a villain? Besides, heroes don’t get paid.

And after spending so many afternoons at his house, Celeste had learned that Ross was not who she thought he was at all. His family wasn’t picture perfect. From what she’d been able to infer, his parents fought all the time and occasionally got physical. His little sister was blatantly ignored by them, causing him to sort of raise her on his own. Ross’s sister suffered from dyslexia, which meant she was having a hard time reading in school, falling so far behind that her teachers were threatening to hold her back. His sister’s shortcoming was one of the many things that made his parents explode.

Ross himself was a little bit of a neat freak, his room almost spotless every time she came over. He always seemed tired and overworked with the AP classes he actually tried hard with. He wanted to be able to make it into a good college because he had the grades, not because he had the money.

Celeste found herself admiring Ross more and more than she felt she should’ve as the days went on.

As per usual, Ross opened the door before Celeste was even able to knock on the door, a big welcoming smile on his face.

“Celeste, right on time,” he sounded a bit out of breath, his hair even more messy than hers must’ve looked.

“I always am.”

Ross kept his big grin, not moving for a full few seconds before moving aside to let her in to the polished entry room that never had a speck of dust out of place.

Celeste made for his room, where they usually studied, but stopped when she noticed a little brunette girl sitting in the living room, coloring a picture with a light blue crayon.

Celeste had never met Ross’s little sister.

“Angie, what are you doing out here? I thought I told you to go to your room to color. You know mom doesn’t like it when you spill the crayons on the carpet,” Ross lectured, bending down to her level at the coffee able she was coloring at.

His sister, Angie, pouted and kept coloring. Celeste took a step closer and peered at the drawing. It was a mess of silvers and blues and white blobs with a red splotch in the corner. If she looked close enough she could see the outline of a person.

“Is that . . . Artic Frost?”

Now that she said it out loud, Celeste could clearly see that it was a kid’s version of her super suit, one of the white blobs was her wig. The other blobs were ice that she was shooting at the red and orange splotch – Wild Fire.

Angie looked up at her, eyes wide with a goofy smile. “Yeah! She’s my favorite super!”

Ross looked annoyed and frustrated at the same time. “Angie, I thought we talked about this. Artic Frost is a bad guy, a super villain. Wild Fire is the good guy.”

Celeste would’ve burst out laughing if she hadn’t been able to hold herself back.

“Yeah, but all the kids at school like him. I think Artic Frost’s costume is cooler. Plus, she made it snow during our field trip. We had a snowball fight.”

Ross thankfully didn’t notice Celeste’s expression at his sister’s words. She suddenly remembered why his little sister looked so familiar. She was there the day she fought Wild Fire for the possession of Momentum, the one who would give her his identity. Angie had been the little girl who she threatened to hurt if she didn’t get Momentum.

Seeing her in person gave Celeste a pang of guilt. She never really was going to hurt the little girl, but she must’ve petrified her.

Her brother didn’t approve, “Angie, don’t you remember that she tried to hurt you? Remember how it worried mom?”

Angie seemed positively stubborn. “That wasn’t her fault. I hit her with a snowball first.”

Celeste let out a giggle. Ross turned to her, confused, standing up to face her.

“You know, I think I like Artic Frost too.”

Ross frowned. “She’s a villain.”

Celeste shrugged. “So? She’s never really harmed anyone. All she’s done is steal from some rich folks and hurt Wild Fire’s pride. I don’t have any reason to hate her.”

Ross looked flabbergasted. “Wild Fire is the hero. He’s the cool one that saves the day.”

“Saving kittens from being stuck up trees isn’t something I’d put on a resume. Besides, it’s the cat’s fault for getting stuck up the tree in the first place.”

“Wild Fire does more than just save kittens in trees. He stops innocent people from getting hurt by super villains.”

“Villains like Pig Man and Calendar Woman?”

“Okay, so what if some of them are stupid? At least he’s saving people and not robbing people of their possessions.”

Angie was open mouthed, staring between the two. “Are you married?”

That stopped the bickering.

“What?” they both exclaimed.

“You’re arguing like mommy and daddy do, and they’re married.”

Ross bent back down to his sister. “No, we aren’t married. Celeste is just . . . a friend.”

He looked back at Celeste at the word ‘friend,’ like he was trying to define something undefinable.

“Yeah, we definitely aren’t married.” Celeste affirmed, crossing her arms.

Angie shrugged. “Oh, okay,” and went back to coloring her picture.

Ross got back up and smiled at Celeste. “Kids, am I right?”

“Yeah,” Celeste managed to choke the word out. She couldn’t get that word out of her head. Friends. Was that what they were? For some reason it made her hurt inside.

Did she want to be just friends?

“Are you coming?” Ross asked from the stairs to his room. Celeste shook off her delusion. Friends was good. Friends was the only thing she wanted to be with Ross. It was safe.

“Yeah, I’ll be right up.”