“I’m Spiderman!” Briley made small shwing sounds, pumping his fist at groups of people, some of whom were dressed in the most ridiculous costumes Gerard had ever seen.
Briley’s was bad enough, black, silver, and white, with a large spider at its center, but even that was preferable to some of the others. There’d been a lime green thing of fur that snarled and limped along on six cloven legs, a fat lizard like tail dragging along behind its enormous ass. Several silver painted bodies, eyes glowing much like Betty’s. But where Betty’s made Gerard hot and eager to touch and fondle, these made him uneasy and flexing his fist with a need to smash in noses, especially when one (a male by the sound of its deep voice) moved in close to Betty and attempted to pat her rear.
That ass belonged to him for the next week, and he’d not allow a soul to fondle it but him.
“Eclipse!” a shrill, highly feminine voice screamed her name.
Betty was bent over a booth, looking at comics when she stilled and turned. Her cape whispering behind her impossibly lean legs, and Gerard desired nothing more than to steal his harpy tongued wench far from the chaotic milieu.
Betty squealed, she then grabbed one of his hands and one of Briley’s, and shoved her way through the crowd to the still waving female headed their way. She dressed similar to Betty-- blue and silver cape and black spandex-- but her plump form didn’t elicit the same sort of passion for him.
Her chubby face was splotchy and sweaty, green hair frizzed wildly about her head, and the bustier (a size too small) seemed painted on the way it bulged at the seams.
“Nightmare,” Betty said, dropping their hands.
The moment Betty acknowledged the other hero, the plump one dropped to her knee, genuflecting almost fully to the floor, and held her hands out in supplication. “The Bleeding Hearts have gathered, my Queen,” she said solemnly. “We await your directives.”
Gerard snorted, covering his mouth and tried hard not to laugh. Betty turned a hard stare on him, then raked the air with her clawed hand, before turning back to Nightmare.
“Arise, noble hero. Your Queen welcomes you,” Betty modulated her voices an octave deeper, and the sultry sound of it shivered down his spine.
Nightmare stood and grabbing her face, Betty rubbed noses with her.
“Ms. Lydia,” Briley squealed after the apparent ceremony finished.
Lydia (Gerard refused to even think of her as nightmare anymore) grabbed Briley in a tight hug and ruffled his head, even though his hair was covered by a full mask. “Heya, squirt. Havin’ fun?”
Briley nodded and sought Gerard’s hand. “Mr. Gerard bought me lots of candy and we saw Xena and Lady DragonSpell and I got to take a picture with Spiderman!”
Gerard stiffened, glancing at the boys chubby fingers within his own. Betty sucked in a sharp breath, her hands over her mouth. Gerard’s eyes grew wide, knowing something had just happened, but not understanding what.
But Lydia leaned in to whisper, killing the moment. “You should know, Eclipse, the Rockers have a booth next to ours. The bastards…”
“There is a child present,” Gerard growled, feeling oddly protective of Briley, an astonishing thing considering he’d never particularly been fond of kids. Though he found he kind of liked this one.
Betty again whipped around to face him, this time a smile crooked her lips.
“Oh my bad.” Lydia zipped her lips. “Sorry, squirt.”
For his part, Briley seemed completely oblivious as he happily sucked away at a lollipop he’d dug out of his bag. He’d pushed his mask half way up, it now bunched around his cheeks, his lips were coated with the red candy.
Betty pulled some wet wipes from her pocket to clean up his face, and then gestured for Lydia to lead the way. Gerard barely held his groan in check. Were it not for the fact that Betty looked damnably delicious in the costume, he’d demand they head back home now. He hated the crowds, hated this world, and wanted her attention all to himself.
They walked to a booth well in the back of the monstrously large building, a gaggle of silver and blue bedecked ‘heroes’ gathered around it, reminding Gerard of a flock of geese. Some short, tall, fat, slim-- but all deferring to Betty. Bowing and pontificating about how wonderful it was to see her, and ‘all hail the Queen’, then they each took turns rubbing noses. Honestly, Gerard found the entire affair ridiculous, but he couldn’t deny watching her smile and laugh flooded his body with a warmth that ripped through him like a spear.
“Mr. Gerard,” Briley looked up at him, the candy dangled from his hands. “I’m tired.”
He sighed. “Me too, garcon.” Spying a row of white fold up tables, he pointed. “Let’s sit.”