This is my second attempt at a fanfiction and I really hope it's better than the first one, which I intend to fix eventually, but I recently saw the animated movie "Batman: Assault on Arkham" and I got into shipping Killer Frost and King Shark or Killer Shark as I like to call them, hard. I really like their dynamic, they both seemed like loners and misfits even in the super-villain community and although I don't try to downplay the fact that they are depraved cold-blooded killers, I like the idea that they might work well together, be friends and maybe even more than friends. Sadly there are very few Killer Shark fanfictions, and that is why I decided to write my own story. I gave it the MA rating because my story contains adult language, violence and eventually might have a sex scene or two.

I don't own any of these characters nor I profit in any way from them.

First Chapter

BAIT

Killer Frost had been laying low for months now, since the whole Arkham debacle, where reports of her death had been greatly exaggerated, which suited her purposes just fine. Avoiding the big cities and their resident supervillain and superhero counterparts communities and opting instead for the back roads, southbound, hopping from a one horse town to the next, like a skipping stone.

Most supervillains she had noted, were attracted to cities like Gotham, Metropolis, Star City and such, like moths to a flame, mostly because that's where the big game was, big stakes, big scores and although most of them would never admit it, they all wanted a shot at becoming an established foe to a Leaguer, ideally to a powerhouse like Wonder Woman, the Flash, the Bat or the Boy Blue.

It's so sad how some of these clowns lives revolve around some other clowns, to the point of actually bragging about how a Batman or a Green Lantern kicked their butts, like that made them special or something.

"Way to dream big, losers."

They all want a seat at the cool kids table and that makes them reckless and predictable, not to mention pathetic.

She on the other hand, never cared for things like hitching her wagon to some lame do-gooder with a cape and a god complex, no, she was a different kind of animal, with different motivations...and was very cool by her own means.

The great thing about being a perpetual outsider is that it gives you perspective and from where she stood she could see the writing on the wall, clear as a neon sign, it read:

"No vacancy"

Most superheroes, the ones that mattered anyway, had a fixed roster of foes for years now.

Take the Bat, for example, he had his city, his gimmick and his rogue's gallery of nut jobs, and it's not like any wannabe with a mask and a ray gun can just walk off the street and get to hobnob with the Joker and arch The Bat.

No, in truth most supervillains are not that super to begin with and most of them end up being cannon fodder for a big time cape or arching some two-bit hero, and for what? A chance at being taken down by some famous cape? Validation for their life choices?

"I swear, some of these starstruck losers are worst then groupies."

she thought bitterly every time she crossed paths with one of them.

Now, that's not to say that she wouldn't jump at the chance at taking one of those lame Dudley Do-Right's out in a second, and not even for the street cred or some ego trip, but because someone needs to remind them that they are nothing more than the costumed band-aid solution to the inherent chaos and violence of human nature…

"And because it's fun as hell to tear them down and bring them to their knees.

They parade around like they're better than everyone else, just because they wear their underwear on the outside, fly around, and because they enforce the rules of a mediocre and repressed society, they're supposed to be looked up at and emulated. And if you don't fall in line and ass kiss with the rest of the toadies, you are labeled a 'menace' and hunted down like vermin…!"

"Oh, well, it still beats commuting to a nine to five every day of your life just to pay off an adjustable rate mortgage."

Or at least that's what she told herself now, in her holding cell.

She felt sick, weak and sick and cold and wanted nothing more than to stay curled up on the cot forever, but she knew that the more time she stayed like that, the worst it would get, up to the point of falling into a torpor.

"Okay, Louise, nap time's over, it's time to get up, so...get...UP!"

Slowly, she stood, on wobbly legs, like Bambi learning how to walk for the first time, and steadied herself with her back to the concrete wall, her eyes still closed she concentrated on just breathing without throwing up.

Who would've thought that the sheriff's department from bumble fuck county would have the equipment necessary to bring down someone like her?

"Oh, well, live and learn…"

She tried to shake off the drowsiness from her mind and collect her thoughts.

"Pull yourself together Louise. First of all, you need to get out of this cell. They haven't processed you yet in all of the commotions, so they don't know who you are, if they did, there would already be some cape here to collect you, so you need to move and fast, before those swamp rats figure out who you are."

And just like that, a scheme started to hatch in her mind.

After not too long a while she heard footsteps coming down her way, and she knew it was a deputy coming to fetch her to get her booked and then run her prints…

"Yeah, like that's gonna happen…"

The steps stopped in front of her cell and she heard a woman's voice yell in her direction:

"ALL RIGHT FREAK, IT'S TIME FOR YOUR PHOTO SHOOT! TRY ANYTHING CUTE AND I'LL CRACK YOUR HEAD OPEN!"

The deputy emphasized this last part by running her nightstick against the cell's bars loudly, but Killer Frost didn't move from where she was, crouched over the stainless steel toilet bowl, where she appeared to be wretching.

"I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU'RE WITHDRAWING FROM, HANDS BEHIND YOUR BACK!"

The deputy was doing her best to act tough, and maybe to the local drunk tank frequent flyers and lowlives she was scary, but Killer Frost had a finely tuned ear for fear, and she knew that this woman was scared of her.

"Well, that just won't do for me right now."

"ARE YA DEATH OR JUST STUPID?! I SAID, I WANNA SEE YOUR FUCKING HANDS!"

"Okay, here we go…"

Killer Frost looked up, slowly, like she was too weak to lift her own head, bleary-eyed, tears running down her cheeks…

"I-I think there's something wrong with my...baby." She gasped while she lifted a shaking bloody hand from between her thighs.

"Plea-please, help my baby." She pleaded sobbing and reached out with her bloody hand towards the deputy, before she collapsed on the concrete floor, holding her midsection.

"C'mon, c'mon, take the bait…"

There she waited, for what seemed like forever, before she heard the distinctive sound of keys rattling followed by the satisfactory sound of the cell door sliding open, then hurried steps and…

"SHIT! MA'AM, CAN YOU HEAR ME?!"

Frost looked up, dazed and confused, barely opening her eyes.

"Shit, she's wearing protective gear...okay, time to go for broke."

"Puh-hel-help...don't let my baby...die, puh-" Cue the seizures...

Frost flopped around the floor like a freshly caught carp for a few seconds before going completely still and letting out one last eerie, pained moan.

"C'mon, just think about the 'baby'. C'mon, take the bait...C'mon, I don't wanna go back to-"

The sound of equipment being removed in a hurry was followed by the touch of a warm hand on her neck, searching for a pulse.

"Shit, shit, shit, don't you die on me! We're gonna get you some help, you hear?! Just stay with me, STAY WITH-"

Frost's eyes shot open and before the deputy knew what hit her, she grabbed her hand and pulled the woman toward her, pressing her cold lips against her's, holding onto her like she was a lifesaver, which she really was, until every ounce of body heat was consumed and the deputy was nothing more than an empty, frozen husk on the floor.

"BOOM! And the Oscar for best Actress goes to: ...

Killer Frost! Oh, my gosh, this is so unexpected! I just want to thank all my fans, and a special nod to deputy dumbass for being so gullible, I couldn't have done it without you girl."

Frost monologued, while she did a little fist bump into the air.

"Ok, get your head back in the game Louise, you still need to get out of this dump and in ten minutes or less, the deputy's friends are gonna realize that she's taking too long down here and come looking for her."

Killer Frost had been pretty messed up from the stun grenades and the gas when they brought her in, but she still managed to get her bearings.

She was underground, in what looked like a bunker, a remnant from the cold war days she guessed (the irony was not lost on her) and now it served as a holding area for metahumans and enhanced Americans. Even if the walls weren't reinforced to withstand nuclear conflagration, and she could freeze her way out, she was still underground.

"Shit, shit, shit!"

Her mind raced through her options, or lack of them to be accurate. However she put it, she would still have to fight her way out, from the bottom up, one of the worst tactical positions, against a small army of well-armed police officers, on their turf and who were gonna be out for blood since she killed one of their own. Even if she was operating at full capacity, which she was not, this wasn't an easy task to undertake.

Like so many of her life decisions, this one was preceded by one thought:

"Fuck it."

Frost took out the cameras right outside her cell first. Yes, that was a dead giveaway, but at least she could move around without being watched, and she didn't want to spoil the surprise. Next, she rushed to the only entrance/exit in the place, which connected the bunker to the rest of the precinct above and in a couple of minutes she had put up a wall of thick ice to block it.

"This should buy me some time."

It consumed a big chunk of the heat she had siphoned from the deputy, but she reckoned this was her only shot.

When they brought her in, a few or maybe several hours ago, in her state she really wasn't sure, some of the deputies found an excuse to walk past her cell, she guessed, because they had never seen someone like her before.

Just the thought of the indignity of being gawked at like some sideshow freak by a bunch of slack-jawed inbreds pissed her off to no end, but at least she was able to learn something useful from their clucking, there was another metahuman in custody, or as they put it:

"What are the chances of catching ourselves two freaks in less than two days?"

As she walked down the corridor freezing off security cameras left and right, she looked in the cells, but they were all empty, all except one.

At the end of the corridor, there was a big, heavy, metal, vault-like door, and she knew that there must be where they were keeping him/her or it.

She really didn't like pinning her hopes of escape onto a complete stranger, who under any other circumstance would probably try to take her out, (nothing personal, she would do the same) but she had to believe that no matter who or what was behind that door, it didn't want to stay locked up and would see the benefits of joining forces just long enough to manage an escape in as few pieces as possible.

She placed her right hand on the fancy electronic lock and proceeded to freeze it.

"Well, I guess it's time to meet my new best friend" she muttered as she braced herself for whatever was waiting for her behind that reinforced door.

"Whatever it is, it must be dangerous enough to keep it in a V.I.P cell...good, I need all the might and brawn I can get."

The lock didn't put up much of a fight and it crumbled under her touch, but in its defense, who freeze proofs a lock in Florida?

Frost had to put all her weight into pulling the damn thing open, "Uh...hello?"

No response.

"Crap. Well, I guess I'll have to step in and introduce myself."

Killer Frost had seen a lot of weird, fantastic things in her life, things that defied logic and boggled the mind, hell, her own very existence was an impossibility out of a sci-fi novel, so it's safe to say that it would take a lot to shock her, but what she saw inside that cell, left her, for lack of a better word, dumbfounded.