(POV Note: This is the background of Flore after the Dabi x Y/N Fight at the Club)

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Flore rubbed her temples when Mic entered the car. He turned but before he could open up his mouth, she shot him a glare that brought a new meaning to "if looks could kill". He nodded, turning on the car and setting the aux to something he felt Flore might like. The silence was near deafening between the two but was broken by the sound of Flore suddenly speaking.

Mic, relieved that Flore wasn't angry, turned around to be disappointed. She was on the phone  with someone and seemed to have that telltale cocky dominance in her voice that had aroused him and annoyed Aizawa.

"Yeah, we need a trace on bullet #129. That's the one. Well we only load our guns with one bullet when we need to track them. You know for someone who spends their time in isolation, you really seem to think I won't walk into your home and beat you with a stick."

Mic raised his eyebrow as he watched the road. There was a strange fellowship between this group. It was like they would fight each other without blinking and kiss and make-up in a second after. He didn't mind it though, it seemed awfully reminiscent of Aizawa. Flore put down the call, growling under her breath. She propped herself up on the door with her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose.

"You alright?"

Mic didn't know whether or not to regret his question but it seemed to hit the right spot. Flore let out a sigh, side-eyeing Mic.

"Just some old contacts and old habits, you know the story."

"I don't really, why don't you tell me about it?"

"Well, Sunshine was just that, our little ball of sunshine. When we were kids, family was killed in a little tussle between Quirks. As you can imagine, that leaves a sour taste in your mouth. Still, those friends you make in Hell often stay with you through it and all other things."

"Sounds like a shit childhood," Mic remarked, looking out into the street ahead. Some sense of relief bubbled in his chest. At least Flore was talking, he was worried that she might hate him.

"Childhood is for people who had the ability to be a child, Mikey. What we had was survival, it was do or die."

"Do you think I'm bad?"

"Well, your buddy protected little Sunshine so you're not all bad."

"Am I bad?"

"You got the feeling of a golden retriever with emotional attachment issues."

"You are the rudest woman I've met," Mic mutters quietly.

"Yet I suppose I'm the first one you're taking home?"

"Maybe," he cooed, the air becoming less gloomy with that statement. There was still an underlying tension. Mic put down that it was the events of the night and annoying phonecall that left Flore in a stressed heap. She reminded him of Aizawa, but somewhat more likely to stab him without blinking. As they rode into the parking of Mic's apartment. He opened the door for her, earning a teasing smile from Flore.

"O' my knight in shining stage lights," she chuckled as Mic led her to his apartment. He opened the door and beckoned her forward. Sauntering, she walked in and just as Mic did, she pushed him against the door and pressed a kiss against his lips. He was a mixture of disconcerted, surprised but also deeply aroused. His hands gripped her waist and pulled her into him. She slid her hands under his jacket, pushing it off his shoulder and moved her lips down.

Kisses on the muscles of his throat and her hands running down his shirt were enough for him to let out a half-suppressed groan. She smiled in response, pulling his arm and throwing him, quite nearly, onto the couch. She straddled his hips, biting at his neck with a fervency that could only be described as maniacal.

----Timeskip----

Mic was out of it and had barely registered the phone ringing and the shuffling of the bed. He also didn't register the sheets moving and Flore standing up from the bed with the fabric loosely wrapped around her breasts and body. He sat up, covering his exposed cock with a pillow and watched as Flore leaned against the drawers in the room and the phone to her ear.

"Right, I'll let him know. Thanks, I owe you own."

Mic rubbed his eyes and Flore shut down the call. 

"You got your friend's number?"

"Aizawa's?"

"That one, yeah. mind handing it to me?"

"I can, what's it about?"

"Found a clue on our dear fireball."

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A/N:

Alright, so the chapter is here. Also, do note, I don't have a good grasp of female anatomy so I'll have to read that before writing a straight scene. I do have some knowledge given to me by a friend.

You ever write an essay about history and there's too much history for such a little essay.

S&M by Rihanna is to be le song.