aka no capes.

“i was going to tell you to screw off, a-hole, but you hit with the F.E.A.S.T. card. i was wondering if they were going to stick around.”

“i’m looking into your dad, not here for a playdate.” 

“let me rephrase: i don’t want to be super.” jessica made an attempt to smile back.

“wasn’t a compliment.”

"it’s why i don’t get mixed up in all of this bullshit. pleasant hill was just too many people asking questions.” 

“i stopped taking cases for a minute after pleasant hill.” she had seen a lot, but jessica still had been left deeply unsettled by the entire thing. the villains being forced to smile and pretend they lived idyllic lives made her think of kilgrave. “but you’re right. i have some idea, and i plan on looking into it. i can lump your shit in as well.” she had a soft spot for cindy; jessica would never admit it, but it made her think of her own family and what a shit show that was.

“seemed like what happened. besides, money doesn’t mean i have to be nice to you.” she had taken jobs from some real shit people. “my liver is fine, thank you. it’s my spleen that suffered.”

“it’s perpetual.” jess knocked back her glass. “can’t seem to shake it.” not that she tried very hard.

“that was worse than a hangover.” 

“it’s still processing. they sent me to accounting, which is the biggest fuck you i can think of.”

“i’m trying to do a stakeout here, asshole. i thought we agreed no pointless small talk.”

“i’m superish. can’t fly, just jump really high. some fresh bullshit.” jess muttered. “but i’m strong, and apparently that qualifies me.”

“i have one. her name is bourbon.” 

“so, the woman who helped kidnap supervillains and cause a multiversal rift is going to judge me for having a second whiskey at 10 am? you do realize i helped find your asshole dad, right? screw off.”

“--Listen, asshole. I’m too sober for this shit. Do you need a P.I. or not?”

“Yeah, sounds about him. Hate that guy.” Too bad he was one of her only friends. Jessica stared in dismay at the check. The bigger it was, the bigger of a cover-up it usually meant. “I do have part of a soul left. ‘sides, it would mean less individual case files. But okay.” She folded the check up ad slid it into her pocket. “You’re officially a client of Alias Investigations. You want to give me a run down on this Calvin guy?”

“Enough to pay the bills. Also, there’s interest here. I added a group charge due to individual filing. Coordination is complicated.” Another smile. “If you had money to make a town and create this new technology you can foot the bill.”