Mercury sped down Fifth Avenue at a speed that was lethal. Well...it could have been lethal for a human bike messenger. He certainly looked human. His earthly form was young- he was going for that indie-slacker look with hair down to his shoulders partially hidden by a knit cap. He wore jeans and a hoodie, a Radiohead t-shirt underneath, and his golden winged sandals had been replaced by a pair of Converse All Stars. He had wanted to bear his caduceus but a real one wouldn’t work out in public- people seemed really freaked out by the snakes- so he had the image of one tattooed on his left forearm. He’d taken to pushing up his sleeves when he made deliveries, letting clients see his mark. He was a God, after all, but he needed people to know who he was without being too obvious.
He would miss looking like this. He had become rather fond of this appearance but giving it up would be worth it. Venus was unequivocally worth it. She was everything. She was a bona fide Goddess, daughter of Jupiter and wife of Vulcan.
Vulcan. The very word drew Mercury’s emotions into upheaval. Vulcan had trapped Venus with a magic net and forced her into marriage. Though together for centuries he had never loved or adored her in the way she deserved and he refused to give her what she wanted the most- a child.
Mercury’s affair with Venus had been a passionate one. For the first time in his long life, he was in love and it was glorious. He would risk anything for her, and for his son who rested in her womb.
Vulcan had been taken of, Mercury had seen to that. He stole Vulcan's magical net and trapped him with it, leaving him to rot in the bowels of the city. Now he pumped his legs, pedaling through the streets of New York City toward his one true love. He would take her through the portal- the one hidden in plain sight in Grand Central Station- and together they would leave this world.
Together they would grow and thrive.
Venus was waiting at the corner of East 56th and Lex. She was dressed from head to toe in black leather, her golden hair weaved into an intricate braid but a few strands had escaped and were blowing around in the light morning breeze. She smiled when she saw him then chuckled at his mode of transportation.
“I thought you were bringing the other bike,” she said motioning to her clothes.
He loved her in leather, was distracted by how it clung to her skin enhancing every one of her delectable curves. With a wave of his hand the bicycle disappeared and in its place was a sleek, silver and black motorcycle. He pulled her close and kissed her softly, his hands softly rubbing her swollen belly where his child lay inside.
“Ready?” he asked.
She put her hand over his and together they marveled at the feel of their son kicking. That was all the answer he needed.