Too Close to Fake It (Nasha x Butcher) (The Boys x OC)
The undercover infiltration to Vought.
(This is around after S3, let’s just ignore probably everyone at Vought knows Butcher’s face.)
(2 OC’s appear in this fic, Nasha, my oc, and Ophera, destiny_rahl’s oc)
MM and Hughie are hunched over the blue print of the Vought gala event starting soon. Discussing the plan again. Butcher is standing at the side of the table and Frenchie nagging him about putting on his disguise.
“Come on, mon ami! The gala has already begun. Do you need help with tying a tie?”
“I know how to tie a bloody tie, mate.”
It’s already dark outside, the gala has already begun. Starlight is ringing Hughie’s phone.
“Hey, when will you guys get here?”
“Soon. Butcher is being a baby about putting on his suit and not sure where Nasha is.”
Then the door to the Grewal & Co. Import & Export office creaks open.
Nasha leans against the door frame, already dressed—long black silk, minimal jewelry, and high heels. No suit. No symbol.
A beat, before anyone starts talking. The boys just staring at her. This is the first time they see her so dressed up. Usually she is just in her hero suit or regular clothes, which never fit her body so sleek, showing off her curves.
“Mon dieu… you look magnifique.” Frienchie is the first to finally speak up.
Butcher turns away a bit and starts putting on his suit jacket. As he puts on his tie, Nasha walks up to him and starts tying it for him. Butcher is surprised but doesn’t show it. She is close to him. Close enough that his eyes wander around her collars a bit.
“Wow, you didn’t even try a little to clean up, huh? I’m supposed to look like I have standards. You’re not helping.”
They can hear Frenchie and Hughie let out a snort.
“Relax, luv. Anyone asks, I’ll tell ’em you’ve got terrible taste.” Nasha let’s out a little laugh.
“Try to look like you belong there, ok? Or at least like you don’t want to kill everyone in the room.” She says as she is pulling the tie through the loop.
“No promises.” He scuffs. She finishes the tie and adjusts his suit where it doesn’t need to be adjusted, and lets her hand lay on his chest.
“This is going to be a fast, in and out mission, right? No going out of line. Just quiet.” She looks up at him, saying it like a warning. Butcher lowers his head just a small amount, looking at her hand still on his chest.
“Yeah. Quiet.” Then he turns away, letting her hand fall.
Vought doesn’t do subtle. The gala is covered in drapery, decorations of flowers and gold. The pompous attitude and money is basically dripping off of everyone attending.
Nasha and Butcher take the red carpet covered stairs into the main event where Starlight was waiting for them, wearing her own, white gown with gold decorations. She walks up close to Nasha as they pass through the doors, and without looking at her,
“West wing. Two rotations of security. Don’t improvise.” Annie says. “Where’s the fun in that?” Butcher says, under his breath.
“Ignore him.” Nasha rolls her eyes. Annie gives Nasha a look of “be careful” and walks towards the east wing.
Nasha and Butcher keep their pace and start to make their way through the crowd to the west wing. She steps in beside him, without asking for permission she slips her hand into the crook of his arm, light but deliberate.
“Smile,” she murmurs. He doesn’t. “Why?” “Because you look like you want to kill someone.” He tilts his head, scanning the room again. “Give me a minute.” Her fingers press into his biceps as a warning. He lets her guide the pace, just enough that it looks natural. Like he’s following because he wants to.
“Glad you could make it!” a charming voice calls out from behind them. It’s Ophera, another member of the Seven. She is adorned in her usual gold and ruby red, shining like the gem of the gala. It’s like she materialized from nothing behind them, not even Nasha could hear her footsteps behind them.
Ophera’s gaze moves, slowly from Nasha to the man next to her. It settles on Butcher and stays there a beat longer than polite.
“Haven’t seen you in a while, dear.” she says to Nasha. “I was starting to think you were avoiding me.” “I’ve been busy.” Nasha says, controlled, not giving away she has tensed up. Butcher felt her slight jump when Ophera called out to her. Making him immediately suspicious that someone who is a spy with sound based powers was caught off guard by someone.
“I can see that.” A small glance at their linked arms. Butcher tilts his head slightly, playing along already.
“You always had… very specific taste,” Ophera continues, eyes on Butcher. “This feels like a deviation.” Nasha’s voice is even, “It’s not.” “Really?” A beat. Ophera gestures lightly toward him. “Then you won’t mind telling me what he is.” What, not who. Butcher lets out a quiet breath through his nose. “Flattered,” he says. “Didn’t realize I was that hard to place.” Ophera doesn’t take the bait. Not yet. She’s watching Nasha, waiting. Not in suspicion, just curious. She is playing with them.
“He is with me.” Nasha forces a smile out.
Ophera cocks her head a bit and with a crooked smile she say, “That doesn’t quite answer my question, love.” she giggles. Butcher shifts slightly closer to Nasha, just enough to reinforce the illusion.
“Means she hasn’t got rid of me yet,” he says, with a half smile, sounding proud of himself. “Temporary, then?” Ophera asks. Nasha doesn’t miss a beat. “Yes.” Butcher huffs and looks down at Nasha with a clearly fake hurt facial expression. “You wound me.” Ophera smiles faintly, but her eyes sharpen. “Temporary is not like you.” she says to Nasha. “He’s useful.” She says quickly, in a straightforward tone.
“You’ve worked with useful people before,” she says. “You never kept them this close.” A beat. “Well,” she says lightly, “I won’t keep you, you should get busy talking with all these rich fucks. I must do the same.” She says with a warm friendly smile. “Try not to disappear again.” Then, with a glance at Butcher “Take care of her.” She almost whispers to Butcher. It sounds polite. It isn’t. She moves off into the crowd with the ghost-like ease when she got behind them.
They make their way towards the west wing again. A few steps. Ten. Twenty. They arrive into the hallway. It’s finally quiet here, only their shoes clicking and hard thumps are the sounds surrounding them. With a hum, Nasha controls the sound of their shoes, to not get anyone’s attention.
Butcher leans in slightly, voice low, “”Useful”, ey?” Nasha keeps her eyes forward. “Drop it.” “Just… interesting choice of words.” He murmurs. “Focus on the mission.” “I am,” he says. Then, softer, just for her “Didn’t think you’d admit it out loud, though.” That one lands. And this time, she doesn’t have a quick answer for it. Which, to Butcher, is answer enough.
They finally find the other control room. No guards around here, Nasha slowly opens the door. It’s empty. She quickly takes out the usb drive that Frenchie made and plugs it into the dashboard. A window pops up asking if you want to copy all data, she clicks yes and the loading begins.
“Mission, success.” Nasha says, proudly.
“Bit early to say, luv. You hear that?” Nasha focuses and she hears a couple of guards walking towards their location. “Right, brilliant. What now? Can’t exactly say we took a wrong turn lookin’ for the bloody toilets, can we?” Butcher says. They both look around with a slight panic, the download is only at 47% percent. The steps are close enough that Butcher can properly hear them as well now. 15 more steps, 10, 5… Nasha whips her head around, looking at Butcher. He gives her a confused look.
The door slams open, the guards step in “Hey! What do you think you are doing in here-!” He stops in surprise. Nasha is holding Butcher's face, leaning all the way in over him, kissing him. His back against the dash board, conveniently covering the download monitor, playing along, one hand coming up instinctively to her waist, pulling her in just enough to sell it, just enough that it doesn’t look rehearsed. For a moment the mission disappears, all Butcher can think about now is the press of her body against him, the heat of it, her lips on his, the fact that she didn’t hesitate. And he doesn’t either. Nasha is not holding back, the kiss is deep, like it’s something both of them have been missing. She is not the only one taking the lead, either. Butcher has also gotten lost in the act.
The guard clears his throat.
“This is a private area though, you can’t—uh—”
“Bit busy, mate,” Butcher mutters a bit out of breath as he breaks the kiss for a second.
The guard raises his hands slightly, backing off.
“Won’t be long,” Butcher cuts in. Another awkward pause. Then the door shuts. Nasha stays where she is for half a second longer than necessary, both of them taking a glance at each other, then she pulls back quickly with a sharp inhale.
“Thank god they bought it,” she exhales, relief breaking through.
Butcher doesn’t move right away, still leaned back against the dashboard, still looking at her. Processing. “…yeah,” he says after a beat. His voice is deeper than it should be. He straightens slowly, dragging a hand over his mouth like he’s wiping the moment off. Doesn’t quite work. “You alright?” she asks, already putting distance back where it belongs. “Peachy,” he mutters. Then, because he can’t help himself, “You do that often?”
She shoots him a look. “It worked.” “Didn’t say it didn’t.” He pushes off the dashboard, stepping closer again, but not too close this time. “Just sayin’,” he adds, quieter now, “bit convincing for a last-minute idea.” Nasha crosses her arms, defensive, but not flustered. “I’ve had practice.” That lands. He tilts his head slightly. “Yeah?” “It’s called improvising,” she says flatly, turning away quickly, only now realizing what she said. He hums, unconvinced. “Right.”
A pause hangs between them. He glances at the door, then back at her. “For the record,” he adds, voice dropping just a notch, “you’re not meant to enjoy it.” Her eyes narrow slightly. “I didn’t!” A beat goes by in silence then, “Focus,” she says. “On it,” he replies. But as they turn back toward the mission, he can’t quite stop the faint smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. And she doesn’t quite forget how close that just was.
The download finally hit’s 100%, Nasha quickly pulls out the usb drive and they leave.
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