Picnic 🧺

"Wally we are in public!" You swatted his hand that was travelling low.

"I'm not doing anything babe!" He feigned innocence but you saw the mischief behind his eyes.

"Uh-huh," You walked further ahead leaving his hand hovering where your waist once was. "Sure you weren't."

"Oh c'mon babe!" He jogged to catch up. Your bags of shopping swinging in his hands.

He settled back into your side with an arm around your waist like it was second nature. It was probably was at this point.

"I'm just saying that if you're tired from shopping I know a few ways to—woah!" Wally's body was tugged after you took a sharp left. It was late on a weekday, so the mall wasn't busy.

You pulled your boyfriend into the empty bathroom, dropping the bags to the floor and pushing him against the wall.

He laughed, "I knew you couldn't resist me."

"Shut up and kiss me."

"On it." The kisses were sloppy and desperate, like any other young couple hidden in a bathroom stall.

Your arms were wrapped around his neck like a viper. Your fingers played with the hairs on the base of his neck.

"You're so hot." He pulled away, just an inch or two to make the comment. His lips were covered in your lipgloss. And you swear there was tears in his eyes.

"Don't ruin this on yourself, babe."

"Okay I'll shut up." He nodded and dove back in for your lips.

At some point during your rendezvous, there was a robbery within the mall resulting in Nightwing—your brother showing up. You hadn't heard the alarms, the shouting or the approaching footsteps. Only realising your relationship was about to be found out when Dick's voice rang through your ears.

"What's going on here?"

You jumped away from Wally at the sound of your brother's voice. You looked up to see him peering over the stall door, head resting on his crossed arms.

"Dick...hi?" You searched your mind for what to say, but you came up blank.

"Hey, bro!" Wally's voice came out as a squeak.

"This is disgusting." You squinted at his remark.

You couldn't tell if he was referring to you being pressed up against his best friend, breathless and flushed—or you making out in a mall bathroom stall.

"I'm not judging your relationship, just your taste in makeout spots!"

"I'm judging your relationship!" A strained voice called out.

"Dick are you standing on Damian!?"

"Red Robin, Nightingale," You and your brother perked up at your father's voice. "Both of you head to The Narrows. I suspect there's a lead in our case there." He ordered.

The whole family was in the Batcave working a case involving Scarecrow.

"I shouldn't need to say this but—be careful." Bruce looked at you both sternly.

The gaze would freak out anyone else but everyone in the cave recognises it as fondness and worry.

"You got it!" You threw a silly salute before heading towards the cave exit, Tim following closely.

"And stick together!" Dick shouted as you vanished into the night.

Gotham could be kinda pretty at night. If you know the right places. You and Tim had split up—even though Dick told you to stick together. It was fine, you could still see each other. Supposedly, Scarecrow had enlisted a group of low-life criminals to transport canisters filled with his newest rendition of fear gas. You were crouched on a rooftop, peering over the ledge, scanning The Narrows for anyone or anything suspicious. It had been 27 minutes and 45 seconds since you arrived...and nothing has happened. Not even a stray cat to coo at.

"Do you want to play eye spy?" You saw Tim freeze and make a confused face at your question through the comms.

"We're on patrol." He deadpanned.

"But I'm so bored!" He sighed as you let your body go limp, half hanging off the building ledge, something you know any of your other brothers would scold you for.

Good thing you were with the one brother who lets you be stupid because he knows somehow you'll always come out successful.

"I'll demote you from favourite brother if you don't play." You threatened.

"I'm not playing eye spy in the middle of patrol Nightingale." He said through his teeth, holding the bridge of his nose.

"I'll replace your position with Damian."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Oh, I would!" Just as the argument escalated a group of voices emerged from the shadows.

"This is where he said." An older guy, smoker by the sounds of it.

Two younger guys followed him, probably around college graduate age. They slipped into a run-down warehouse.

"There's an open window to the second floor and a back door," Tim informed you, having studied the blueprint beforehand.

"Let's go."

Dick's voice rang in your mind; "Stick together." It was laughable how quickly you and Tim had gotten separated. You hadn't realised the warehouse was designed like a maze. Some thug ambushed you when you entered. They didn't do any major damage—a scratch on the cheek. Worst of all he smashed your comm. You had no way of contacting Tim. Unless you wanted to yell across the warehouse and alert everyone you were here.

You snuck around the building, careful not to make loud footsteps. You're investigation eventually led to a hallway. A hallway you quickly realised reeked of gasoline.

"Shit." You whispered to yourself as the flick of a lighter sounded at the end of the hall.

A trail of fire lit up before you. The flames licked at you costume as you retreated. In the corner of your peripheral you spotted the worst thing you could; explosives.

"Fuck."

The hallway lit up bright and a deadening sound filled your ears. Definitely damaging your eardrums. But you didn't feel the pain of burns or debris crushing you. Instead, you felt a safe embrace that flew you out the shattered window.

"Kon!?"

"Heya babe!" He flashed a smig smile. He settled you onto a nearby rooftop.

"You okay?" His hands cupped your face. His thumb gently grazes over the scratch.

"I'm fine but—Tim!"

"I saw him chasing some guy down an alley amoment ago. He's alright." Knowing your brother wasn't affected by the explosion you could let yourself stare into your boyfriend's lovesick eyes.

"How'd this happen?" He lightly tapped the cut on your cheek.

"Got ambushed by some guy, destroyed my comm. B won't be happy about that..." You grimaced at the thought of returning to the cave.

"Don't worry yourself babe," Kon leaned in and pecked the space between the cut and your eye. "You can always call me—your handsome, super-boyfriend, to cheer you up!"

"What are you doing?" Tim grappled up onto the roof to see something he'd never thought he'd see.

You both stared at Tim like you'd just been caught committing a felony. All you and Kon could do is move your mouths like you were going to say something. But nothing ever came out. Tim didn't need to be a trained detective or a genius to understand the secret he'd just discovered. He really didn't know what to say.

"All I ask is that you never be," He lifted his fingers to form quotations. "cute, in front of me."

"Roy what the fuck!?" You whispered yelled, only wearing a towel as you'd just showered.

Roy was perched on your windowsill. One leg bent and the other aimlessly swinging back and forth.

"Shouldn't be leaving your windows open this late babe," He pointed out before dropping to his feet. "Someone could break in." He sported a stupid grin.

"Roy—"

"You look gorgeous." His eyes raked over your body, watching a few droplets of water slip down your skin.

A calloused hand cupped your cheek and all of a sudden your mind went blank. He stepped closer to fill the space. His hand found your lower back through the damp towel.

"How'd I get so lucky?" He chuckled before swooping in for a kiss.

Your hands fisted the towel. You desperately wanted to get your hands on him, it had been awhile since you two were together. And that was because—

"Dude! What the fuck!?"

Jason was crashing at your apartment. Jason—who although friends with Roy—believed him to be a bad influence and didn't want you two hanging out. Let alone making out. You jumped away from the kiss but Roy pulled you back into his arms. Your knuckles turned white from how tightly you were holding onto the towel, and your sanity.

"Jason get out of my room!" You screamed.

"Why is Roy in your room!?" As his sister, you can confidently tell people that the rumours are true; Jason is a massive drama queen.

"None of your business!"

"I think it is my business why my best friend is in your room, when your only in a towel!"

"Dude," Roy began. Jason just gave a stern look in response. "She's an adult." Roy placed a pile of clothes you had thrown on your bed into your hands. He ushered you back into your bathroom to change.

Their voices were a little muffled but you could make out what they were saying.

"Roy what the hell!"

"Jay—"

"We talked about this!"

"That you don't think I'm a good influence based on my past? Yeah I know we've talked about this—hearing that from my best friend kinda stuck with me!"

It went silent on their end for a moment. The wind came through the open window to fill the void. And your clothes were annoyingly loud in the silence.

"Jason, she's your sister, I get that you're worried for her, but she's an adult. She can make her own decisions." He sighed.

"You know better than anyone how smart she is Jay, trust her—and me—please?"

You crept out of the bathroom, the door squeaking unceremoniously. Jason had his arms crossed, and a sour expression on his face as his gaze flicked between you and Roy.

"You better not fuck this up." That was all he said before exiting your room.

"You let me know and I'll kill him!" He added, shouting from down the hallway.

You shut the door and locked it, sighing. "Where were we?"

The misson had gone south. Like very far down south. So south that Bruce and Dick had sent you away to a safe house and wouldn't let anyone else know where you were south. You hated it. There was absolutely nothing to do and all you could hope for was that Dick would show up and tell you that the coast was clear and you could go home. Glass shattering had your head snapping towards the bedroom so fast you heard a crack. You quickly grabbed your weapons and headed towards the room.

You leaned your ear against the door. There was movement so definitely some kids' stray ball.

"Sunny?" You stood straighter at the nickname and voice.

You swung the door open, your weapons dropping to the floor. There she stood—Koriand'r; your secret girlfriend. Who you hadn't been allowed to call or text this whole time.

"Kori!" You ran to her arms. The Tamaranean lifted you with ease, your body instantly curling around hers like a koala.

"Sunny! Why have you not been speaking to me?" She asked with sad eyes. You gave a nervous laugh.

"Last misson, didn't end so well," her eyes immediately scanned you for any major injuries. "I got out alright—kinda?" She didn't look please to hear that.

"Allow me to assist." She sat you down on the bed.

You winced a little. How exactly do you tell your girlfriend whom you haven't been speaking to for at least two weeks, that you got roughed up and shot at?

"To properly assist I must remove the cloth barrier."

"What?"

Kori was already removing you clothes before you could process what she'd said. You were sat in your underwear. Your bruises and stitches on full display. She gasped.

"Sunbeam! What has happened?"

"Baby it's fine, Dick patched me before dropping me here!"

"What the hell is going on?" Your eyes widened at the sound of your brother's voice.

"Starfire?"

"Nightwing! How dare you!" She got up from crouching in front of you. You took the opportunity to gain some dignity back and put your clothes on.

"How dare I what?" Dick was nothing but confused.

"How dare you hide my lover from me!"

Dick choked on air at the statement.

"Lover!?"

"Kori!" You gasped.

Dick backed up from the angry Tamaranean.

"I just came by to tell you that everything's been sorted, so—"

"So you will give me back my lover?" Her eyes were sparkling with hope now.

Even if you weren't safe to leave you don't think Dick would've been able to deny her to be with you. He was also a little scared of the sudden switch-up.

"Uh, yeah!" She skipped back over to you.

Her hug knocks you both onto the bed. You looked over to Dick and he gave a betrayed look at the fact that you never updated him on your love life. You weren't going to hear the end of this for a while.

Oh shit, he's going to tell Bruce.

"Who's the new girl?" Barry asked.

"This is Nightingale, she is my sister and will be helping out on the case." Barry nodded at Bruce before stretching his hand out to greet you.

"I'm Flash, nice to meet ya!" You shook his hand firmly, giving him a polite smile.

"Nice to meet you too."

A sudden burst of green light brought your attention to the door. Your eyes widened at who emerged from the light. Hal Jordan—your secret boyfriend.

"Well hello." Hal flirted before remembering where he was and clocking who was standing beside you.

"Who's she? New member?"

"Temporary. Nightingale is helping us on our new case." Barry caught Hal up on what he had missed. "She's Bats sister!"

He nodded and gave you a once-over. He knew you were a vigilante, but he'd never seen you in your suits. Damn, you were hot.

"Hal." Bruce called sternly.

"Uh—nice to meet you." He gave a stiff handshake. Trying to act like he'd never held your hands before.

"You too."

"You already know Queen." Bruce motioned towards Oliver, who had a shit eating grin on his face.

"Hey junior."

"Hello Oliver." Bruce gave Oliver an odd look for his mischievous smile.

You gave a small wave to Dinah who sat beside Oliver. She gave a wave and a knowing smile back. Diana and Clark made there way into the meeting room. Shortly after the introductions you all sat down and began discussing the case.

You were stood at the top of the room informing the League of all your collected evidence and leads on the case. Hal knew he should've been paying attention but he simply couldn't pay attention when you looked so good. Your latex suit carved out your figure Hal loved so much perfectly.

"Hal? Hal? Hal!" Barry's voice and shove to the shoulder brought him out of his dream.

"What?" Oliver and Dinah stiffled laughs behind their hands. Barry gave a confused look, whilst Clark and Diana hid small smiles at the exchange. He didn't have to look in Bruce's direction to feel his scowl and glare.

"Sorry, what was the last part?" He scratched his neck.

"I said," You repeated the previous piece of information to him. You tried your best to look him in the eyes and not stumble over your words.

"Got it." He said, although you didn't entirely believe he was actually listening. He still seemed to be distracted by your attire.

"Alright, what was that?" Barry pulled Hal aside after the meeting.

"What was what?" Hal played stupid. He knew exactly what Barry was talking about.

"You know what I'm asking about." Barry settled beside him in the kitchen. He was throwing together a sandwich stuffed with almost everything in the fridge. Hal settled for a coffee.

"C'mon man, tell me." He begged with a mouth full of sandwich. Hal rolled his eyes.

"Okay—but dont say anything." He gave Barry a serious look. Barry only smiled with crumbs on his cheeks. Hal scanned the kitchen, it was just the two of them.

"Okay, me and Nightingale have been seeing eachother for—"

"You're dating Nightingale!?" Barry yelled in shock. Hal felt his eyes twitch at the outburst.

"Hal."

Barry's eyes widened. Hal's body tensed up. He turned around to see you and Bruce in the doorway.

"Damn, good for you."

"Shut up Barry!" Bruce and Hal shouted in sync.

It was another day of sneaking out of Gotham to Central City with the excuse of work. In reality, you're sneaking around with your speedy boyfriend, like college students with strict parents. Except you just have a protective brother who happens to be the colleague of your boyfriend Barry. He'd finally gotten a day off from STAR Labs and thankfully hadn't been much crime activity. It was the perfect time for a date. And maybe a sleepover.

"Stop—I'm trying to focus!" Barry laughed as you poked at him.

Due to you being a public figure restaurant dates were a no. Couldn't risk the paparazzi outing you to your family.

"But you're so cute!" You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck.

He did his best to watch the boiling pasta. But how could he with such a beautiful woman wrapped around him? One hand stirred with a wooden spoon. It didn't take long for both his hands to settle around your waist though. Barry smiled fondly as your manicured hands cupped his face.

"God, you're so handsome." You purred, biting your lip slightly.

"Is it hot in here?" Barry grinned sheepishly.

"Just kiss me." You demanded in a sultry tone, your nose brushing his. Barry wasted no time diving in to meet your tinted lips.

The simple kiss quickly escalated into more. Since he couldn't treat you to a fancy restaurant date, he did the best he could to improvise by dressing in the only fancy clothes he had. Now his hair was ruffled with you fingers tangled in it. His tie was loose and the top of his shirt was unbuttoned with the collar stood up. You pulled away from the kiss to give your work a once over. He looked at you with a dopey smile. He was flushed all over. The blood rush nearly hid the lipstick marks all over him.

"What are you laughing at?" You giggled even harder at the question. His voice slurred with lovesickness.

"You look drunk."

"Drunk on love." You howl laughed in response. He gripped your hips as you leaned back laughing, your hands resting on his exposed chest.

"C'mere." He quickly lifted you onto the counter. His hands rested very low on your back. Your lips founds his again. And at some point, one of you accidently hit League gadget Barry had left lying around. Caught up in moment neither of you heard it ring. Nor did you see the hologram screen with Batman—your brother appear.

He cleared his throat.

"Oh my god!" You screamed and pushed Barry off you.

Your hands covered the incriminating smudged lipstick. There was no way you were lying your way out of this. Even if he hadn't caught this kiss; what were you doing with Barry? And why does he look like he just fought with Cupid?

"Uh—I—Bats! Didn't see ya there!" Barry stuttered.

"Mhm."

"Bruce?" You piped up. Embarrassment written all over your face.

"Mhm?"

"Can we talk—uhm—later maybe?"

"Mhm."

"Okay—thanks—great talk—bye!" You reached out to shut the device beside you off.

"Your pasta's boiling over." Bruce pointed out before disappearing.

"Oh shit!" Barry cried.

There's was a monster outbreak in Metropolis. Superman was trying to handle to situation as peacefully as possible. He was flying around, trying to tire out the creature so he'd be able to bring them away safely. He swooped around buildings and caught stuck civilians, flying them to safety.

He saved an old lady and her cat, three kids who got separated from their teacher, and a squirrel. There was minimal damage to the surrounding buildings so far.

"Mommy!" A little girl he'd just saved from a falling traffic light ran to her mother.

"Thank you, Superman!" She cried as he hugged her daughter tightly.

"No problem!" He shot back up into the air to continue the fight.

All the civilians were a safe distance away. He was 100% focused, he almost had the creature—a truck was thrown down the streets, towards a woman—towards you. He immediately redirected his attention. Quickly picking you up and flying to a nearby rooftop.

"Honey, are you okay? W-what are you doing here?" His voice quivered as he scanned over you. He instantly noticed the limp in your leg, and there was dry blood on your ankle.

"Uh-I came to the suprise you." You admitted breathlessly from screaming. "Not the kind of suprise I'd hope to give!"

Clark froze, he didn't want to leave you but he didn't want to leave the people of Metropolis to find for themsleves.

"What are you waiting for!? Go!" You shooed him off, but no before he could give you a kiss on the cheek.

"I'll be back!" He shouted as he dived off the building ledge.

"Good luck!"

Clark smiled briefly for the cameras once the fight was over. The creature being ethically dealt with.

"Superman! Superman! Can you spare a moment-"

"I'm afraid I have to go!" He gently removed the microphone that was being shoved into his face. "Take care, everyone!"

He flew off into the sky, discreetly returning to the rooftop he'd left you on.

"Honey! Are you still here?" He called out. He sighed in relief at the sight of you with your ankle bandaged up. Only to freeze at the glare being sent his way. Not be you.

"Batman! What are you doing here?"

"I'd like to know what you're doing with my sister? Clark." He looked to you for confirmation about the situation. He could tell by your guilty expression that you hadn't updated your brother on your love life.

"I believe Ms. Wayne would be better at answering your questions." Bruce turned to face you. You let out a nervous laugh as your brother toward over you.

"Uhm—," You cleared your throat. "Well—you see—uhm—me and Clark are kinda—"

"Get to it."

"Sorta dating?" You told him like it was a question. Something you could backtrack on if he didn't approve.

"I see." That was all he said before he vanished. Claiming he had business to attend to.

"Why'd you leave it up to me?!" You punched Clark's shoulder. He didn't move an inch.

"I'm sorry love," His arms wrap around your waist. "It's not my fault you're keeping secrets though."

Your hands rested on his chest, his heartbeat erratic from the fight, but also you.

"C'mere." One of his large hands found your cheek, pulling you into a sweet kiss.

He pulls his hand back like your smooth skin burned him. “I don’t care! You killed my favorite bush.” Hal looks down at your cunt again, frowning his eyebrows. “Aren’t you cold?”

You groan loudly, flopping back to your bed. You’re so wet it’s definitely dripping on the bed sheets and your stupid boyfriend is being stupid, as always. 

“Just eat me out, Hal!” You hit his shoulder, trying to push his head back between your legs but he’s evading your cunt like it’s radioactive. 

“I can’t eat your pussy like that!” 

You sit up so fast the room spins for a second. “Excuse me? You can’t?” Your voice comes out way higher than you meant it to, all squeaky with pure outrage. “Hal, I have been dripping for you since you walked through the door. I’ve been thinking about your mouth all damn day and now you’re telling me no because I shaved? Are you serious right now?”

He rubs the back of his neck, looking guilty but also stubborn as hell. His eyes keep flicking down to your bare pussy like he can’t decide if he wants to cry or run away. “It’s just… wrong. It feels naked. Like I’m doing something illegal or whatever. I need the bush, baby. It’s soft and it smells like you and I like burying my face in it. This…” He waves a hand at your smooth folds, “this is like eating a bald cat. Creeps me out.”

“A bald cat?” You grab a pillow and smack him right in the face with it. “You absolute asshole! I spent twenty minutes in the shower making sure it was perfect and you’re comparing my pussy to a hairless cat?”

Hal ducks the second swing, laughing a little even though he still looks traumatized. “I’m sorry! But I can’t do it. Not until it grows back, at least a little fuzz. I need something to tickle my nose when I’m down there.”

You stare at him, mouth open, thighs still spread wide like an invitation he’s refusing to accept. Your clit is throbbing so bad it almost hurts and he’s seriously putting you on a sex ban over pubic hair? “So what, I’m just supposed to suffer now? Walk around horny as hell while my boyfriend throws a tantrum because I wanted to try something new?”

He nods like that’s the most reasonable thing in the world. “Sex ban until it grows back, sorry baby, I have morals. You can still suck me off if you want though. That’s fair.”

You throw the pillow at him again, harder this time. It bounces off his chest and lands on the floor. “Fair? You think that’s fair? Hal, if you don’t put your mouth on me right now I swear I’m going to… to…” You can’t even finish the threat because your brain is too busy short-circuiting from frustration and need. Your hips twitch on their own, chasing nothing but air.

Hal leans in and kisses your knee instead, all soft and sweet like that’s gonna fix anything. “It’ll be like a week, maybe two. Just let it grow a bit. Then I’ll eat you out so good you’ll forget I ever said no.”

You flop back again with the most dramatic groan you can manage, arms covering your face. “I hate you. I actually hate you so much right now.”

He chuckles and crawls up your body, careful not to brush against your poor neglected pussy. His lips find your neck, whispering against your skin. “You love me. And you’ll love me even more when the bush is back and I’m making you scream into the pillow for hours.”

You peek out from under your arm just to glare at him. “A week and a half. Not a day more. And if you even think about teasing me during that time I’m shaving again out of spite.”

Hal grins, that stupid crooked smile you usually can’t resist. “Okay! But no more surprise baldies, let a guy prepare next time.”

You shove his face away, but you’re already smiling a tiny bit under all the outrage. “You’re the worst boyfriend ever.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, kissing your palm when you try to push him again, “I’ll make it up to you. Just grow the bush back, baby.”

You sigh, long and defeated, thighs squeezing together because the ache isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. “You owe me so many orgasms when it’s back. Like, world record amount.”

“That sounds perfect, baby,” he whispers, already settling beside you like he’s ready to cuddle through your horny misery. “Now come here and let me hold you while you suffer. It’s only fair.”

You grumble the whole way into his arms, but you go anyway. Because even when he’s being an idiot about your pussy, he’s still your idiot. And deep down, part of you is already counting the days until that little bush grows back and he finally buries his face where you need him most.

dont get me wrong, guy was still a great boyfriend and he had his moments—but this man was such a punk

acclimating to being with someone in “the life” was hard but he was pretty good about helping you adjust

like he ALWAYS texted you back ASAP so you didn’t worry

even if he was off-planet (he gave you a extraterrestrial long-distance communicator and told you to keep it a secret)

“yes, honey, i am very much alive and well, but im fighting a fleet of alien spaceships right now so im gonna have to hang up now, okay?” -guy

when you were first introduced to the “justice gang,” michael and kendra were shocked guy could have an s/o

“you’re guy’s partner? how do you put up with his shit?” -kendra

“oh, it’s easy. i just threaten to tell the lantern corps whenever he’s being pouty and he immediately starts to behave again” -you

“would that even work?” -michael

“calling up the lantern corps? don’t know, never tried. he just looks so panicked whenever i say it, it’s never failed” -guy

“you’re incredible.” -kendra

guy def parades u around a lil bit. like he’s very proud to be able to call himself ur bf

sometimes you get a lil insecure bc he literally is a green lantern and knows so many powerful people and meets people on other planets?? and he still chooses you every day

when he comes home from off world missions he never shows up empty handed. either he found something to gift you from another planet or he’ll just show up with some coffee and donuts

“this is, uh, well i don’t really remember what it’s supposed to resemble, but it’s a very cute creature on their planet. this is the equivalent of a teddy bear for us” -guy

“oh! it’s so…unique. i love it” -you

“and i love you” -guy

he’s very passionate and his love language is 100% touch so he likes to have you close

when you’re out, his arm is around your hip at all times

when you’re home, he’s hugging you from behind and kissing your shoulders and back

he holds you and dances with in the living room while you’re having conversations in the living room, you’ll tell him about your boring day and he’ll brag about his battle feats

you cut his hair for sureeee

“just make sure the bowl is straight, i don’t want to look stupid” -guy

“oh, no, we wouldn’t want you looking stupid” -you

(a/n: idk if there’s any comic canon lore behind his bowl cut and i dont feel like researching but it’d be soooo funny if thats just how him mom cut it when he was a kid and he just never changed his hairstyle)

you middle parted his hair just to mess with him

“y/n, that is so not funny. don’t take pictures, i don’t want a digital footprint or whatever it’s called” -guy

*you actively posting it on your story and tagging him*

like i said, gotta put the man in his place. he’s far too cocky

he also posts date night pictures of you guys all the time he’s super proud of u

whenever there’s some insane thing going on in metropolis (where you live for the sake of the plot) he always makes sure you’re clear of danger before fighting the enemy head-on

“you took your sweet time” -michael

“oh, you know. had to check on the significant other” -guy, winking

“cool story, want to start helping now?” -michael

you were starstruck the first time you met superman

“y/n, you hang out with superheroes every day!” -guy

“yeah, but he’s superman!” -you

“so?! he’s just an alien. i go space all the time, i’m much cooler than him” -guy

“you’re right, you’re so much cooler than him” -you

guy enjoyed when you fed his ego

like lowkey it was the most flattering thing for him it always made him super happy

“so you think i’m super-cool huh?” -guy

“oh, yeah, you’re the coolest” -you

“well, since i’m so cool, we should go somewhere cool this weekend” -guy

“cool or warm?” -you

“you’re right, warm is better. how about the florida keys?” -guy

“how about greece?” -you

“oooh, fancy-schmancy” -guy

“oh, i’m not good enough for greece?” -you

“i didn’t say that!” -guy

he definitely would take you on trips since he had the ability to travel by ring lol

“when can i get one of those?” -you, tapping his ring

“are you asking me to propose?” -guy

“no, i want a cool superpowered ring, duh” -you

“well, in that case. probably never. only the the people with the most willpower in the universe get these. maybe if i forget to do the dishes again a red one will find you” -guy

you swatted him and he started laughing his ass off

you have to promise not to watch the shows youre watching together when he’s off world and its sooooo hard

sometimes it hits you how normal you are compared to him and life almost doesn’t feel real but he’s pretty good about making sure you know you mean the world to him

he likes to make little constructs to distract you when you’re busy doing stuff

like when you’re in the shower and suddenly there’s a transparent green bird perched on the curtain rod

“guy, what the hell are you doing?” -you

“just helping you live out your disney fantasies. he’s here to help you get ready” -guy, through the bathroom door

“cut it out, that’s so weird!” -you, watching the green bird hold your towel in its beak

“sing to it!” -guy, cackling

“no!!” -you

he loves outlandish pranks

non-harmful ones for you but if it were the justice gang it’d definitely be something a little more dangerous

speaking of the justice gang, you got to tour the WIP hall of justice and it was like the coolest thing ever

“we could do it here alllll the time” -guy

“ew, guy, why would you even say that?” -kendra

“save it for when we get home, smooth talker” -you

justice gang def texts you all the time and tells guy how much cooler you are than him and he actually usually agrees

because duh, if you weren’t cool he wouldn’t be dating you

guy 100% will say he’s gonna give you a back/foot massage or something and make the ring do it

you can tell the difference but the ring constructs lowkey do it better so you don’t say anything

i mean he is using his willpower to do it so its not like hes not trying

you wear his JG jacket sometimes and have requested your own honorary jacket but he likes when you wear his clothes so he won’t budge

tbh i may not have added it too much in this fic but he definitely lovesss to hear “i love you’s” and says it soooo much

and he loves compliments and always makes sure to compliment you back

and he loves deep kisses

and when you care enough to keep him in check

and any cheeky shit you end up doing like (forgive me lord) slapping his ass when he walks by (its funny ok)

he doesn’t do spooning tho bc he sleeps on his back and snores like a mf

you’re very grateful for the quieter nights

when you can’t sleep, guy will fly you two up in a bubble over metropolis at night and look at all the city lights

“it’s pretty up here” -you

“i can only focus on you” -guy

“yeah right” -you

“calling me a liar?” -guy

“maybe” -you

“ouch, not cool. guess we’re not getting froyo from your favorite spot in town” -guy

“oh, you’re evil” -you

Something is wrong with Guy Gardner. At least, the League seems to think so.

Maybe he’s been possessed, or replaced with an alien, or maybe a series of ghosts visited him in his sleep and convinced him to be a better man. Whatever the reason is, there’s only one thing they agree on: it’s weird.

The first person to notice it, unfortunately, is Hal Jordan. He’s leaving the Watchtower, clocking out from an excruciatingly long patrol shift, when he notices something odd.

Guy Gardner, two cups of coffee in his sweaty palms, psyching himself up in the hallway. Hal blinks, head cocked to the side, wondering what could possibly make Guy Gardner of all people so nervous.

His answer comes in the form of you, settled into a chair with a book in your lap, oblivious to Guy’s arrival until he taps you on the shoulder.

“Guy, hey!”

He smiles, something awkward and strained. He thrusts a hand out to you, “brought you a coffee.”

You take it, bringing it to your lips and inhaling the sweet aroma. You grin ear to ear, “ugh, my favorite. How did you know?”

“You know me,” he shrugs, an attempt to remain nonchalant. “Guy Gardner knows things.”

You giggle slightly, taking a sip from your coffee. “You know, I’m starting to think you actually do.”

Guy blushes. Hal shudders. What parallel universe has he stepped into?

The next person to notice, unsurprisingly, is J’onn. 

Guy Gardner’s been pacing the command deck all day, which in itself drew suspicion. He’s not one to hang around when he’s not on duty or doesn’t need something from someone. It’s especially unlike Guy to be pacing and nervously wringing his hands together like this.

J’onn observes him with sly sideyes and the occasional telepathic checkup, wondering what on Earth he could possibly be waiting for.

The answer comes when you stumble back into the Watchtower, soaking wet and shivering, Hal Jordan by your side. You shake off the water on your body like a dog, wrinkling your nose.

J’onn feels it before he sees it. The sudden relief, the dissolving anxiety in the room.

“That,” Hal mimics your motion, wet hair dangling in his face, “sucked.”

You laugh, “you think? I’m freezing.”

The two of you fall into the steady rhythm of smalltalk, discussing the details of your mission while simultaneously dripping water all over the floor. You’re so caught up in your conversation with Hal that you don’t notice Guy sidle up to you until he’s shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders.

It’s warm, perfectly comfortable over your wet and cold clothes and best of all, it smells like the cologne he douses himself in every morning. You tug it tighter around yourself and look over your shoulder at the man who gifted it to you.

“Guy?”

“Hm?”

“What’s this for?”

“Since you said you’re cold and all,” he shrugs, trying to keep it casual. “Can’t have you getting sick on me.”

Hal and J’onn exchange looks. What the hell is going on?

Guy catches himself. “Don’t want you shirking your responsibilities, leaving all the world saving to me. I got things to do.”

You see through the facade easily, see it for what it really is. You only smile and thank him, crossing your arms over your chest to thoroughly absorb his warmth.

Guy resists the urge to drape an arm over your shoulders. Hal resists the urge to gag. 

The third victim of Guy Gardner’s new attitude is no other than John Stewart, who wasn’t even supposed to be here but was instead sentenced to it by the Guardians.

He’s tired when he arrives at Guy’s house, not willing to deal with the odd ecosystem Guy has created for himself. Still, he forces himself through the door and calls out for Guy, only to trip over his shoes.

Wait—not Guy’s shoes. Someone else’s. 

John squints, examining the shoes that almost took him out. They’re too clean to be Guy’s, the soles still sporting some white where Guy’s would usually be worn down and dark in colour. 

He calls out for Guy again, stepping further into his apartment and past the plant he’s somehow growing inside of an old boot. It would be impressive if John wasn’t so grossed out by the room around him.

His search of the apartment turns up empty until he comes across the barely open door to Guy’s bedroom, the room behind it enveloped in darkness. Hesitating, John pushes open the door and freezes dead in his tracks when he sees what’s inside.

He should’ve known. The apartment was slightly cleaner than usual, there was an extra pair of shoes at the door and Guy wasn’t answering and still, here he is. John can’t help but stare, slack-jawed at the sight in front of him,

Guy, laid on his side, his thick arms wrapped around your waist. Your waist. John wasn’t sure anyone on the planet would be willing to date Guy Gardner, least of all you of all people. 

He rubs at his eyes and the sight of the two of you remains. 

It’s then that Guy props himself up on one arm, shooting daggers towards John. “D’ya mind?”

John takes a big step back, shaking his head, still speechless. Guy tosses a construct pillow at him, John dodges.

“I’m just—I’ll text you.”

John spins on his heel, leaving the apartment more haunted than when he first arrived.

You’re walking the street with Guy, swinging your hand in his, that the question finally comes to your mind.

“Do you think people have been…weird around us lately?”

Guy squeezes your hand. “Why do you think that?”

“Just…everything. I mean, we spend all our time around superheroes. One of them is bound to figure it out at some point.”

Guy pauses, thinking back to the other day with John, and the week before that with Manhunter, and even before that with Hal. He shrugs his broad shoulders.

“No,” he smiles, “don’t think those dummies are gonna figure it out anytime soon.”

Liar.

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Honestly, I dont think it matters all that much to Patrick, how tall you are. He's a guy who can change size however he wants, so why would it be important to him? 

Doesn't stop him from leaning his elbow on your head, or his chin on the top of your head, just to be a little annoying. 

No matter your height, Patrick will drape over you, even turning himself into a blanket or cape of sorts. Have you guys seen those blankets with hoods on them? Yeah, he makes himself into one of those. 

It's very weird the first many times, to wear your lover, but you get used to it. It's just one of the ways our sweet Patrick shows his love. 

And since he doesn’t own many clothes of his that you can steal and wear, then he’s gotta become those clothes, ya know? At least he doesn’t smell bad, and it feels like a constant cuddle. 

You've had to smack him or burn/ice him a bit every now and then, as his hands, or just parts of him, will start exploring.  

Won't matter if you’re on watch duty with the League, or if its a meeting, Patrick has wandering hands. 

Great, now I'm wondering if he can shape himself into a toy you could use... that's such a strange mental imagine, but ya know what? Hell yeah. 

I know Patrick seems like he's all fun and games, but he is a great guy. Being short means you can end up just kinda, forgotten in the rush of it all. 

It also means sometimes the rest of the League don’t hear you when you make a comment, or they’ll overlook you, on accident of course. Our dear Patrick won’t accept that. 

There are multiple ways he can go about it, but the go-to, is simply Patrick lifting you high above everyone else, and loudly proclaiming that you were talking, or you said something important. 

That, or if he sees that you’re down about being forgotten again, Patrick will go out of his way to make sure everyone hears, one way or another. He knows you’re as good of a hero as everyone here, and he will make sure they all know. 

Our sweet Patrick might struggle with insecurities, or other hardships in a relationship, because who wouldn’t, but that doesn’t stop him from doing his best. 

But it does mean you go out of your way to show him your love too, in whatever way he might need. 

Sometimes that's just affirmation that he's your one and only, and other times, its tying him into literally knots as you guys make out on the couch. 

“If you ask me, we should get rid of everyone in that family,” he said, and your eyes widened in immediate disapproval. “They’re witnesses. The wife and daughter might be tied to him and try to get revenge afterwards. The only ones we can spare are the staff. Barney was a piece of shit, doubt any of them actually liked him.” 

A short laugh escaped him. “They stuck to him only for the money.”

“I don’t think that’s fair. What did the wife and daughter ever do?” you protested, clenching your hand into a fist as you looked back at the family. Your gaze fell on the girl sitting at the table: she was smiling, and she didn’t look snobbish at all, despite the luxury she’d grown up in. She reminded you of yourself, and you were probably about the same age.

“For now nothing, true,” he admitted, “but they might do something in the future. Don’t assume they’re innocent, especially the wife. She had her own set of inconvenient people she asked me to eliminate…” He rose smoothly to his feet, perfectly balanced on the tree branch. “And the daughter will end up the same. Look at her, look at how attached she is to her father. You really think she wouldn’t seek revenge if someone hurt him?”

The way Barney talked animatedly with his wife and daughter felt strangely familiar. He looked harmless, but from what you knew about him, he was anything but. Not that he was so different from your father… after all, a piece of garbage tends to recognize its own. 

Still, you doubted the daughter would seek vengeance. She reminded you too much of yourself, and she likely knew what horrible things her father had done, which meant she had to disagree with him on at least some level.

“Do you believe in karma?” your father asked out of nowhere, yanking your attention back to him. “After years of getting rid of his competition, this time it was one of his own rivals who decided to hire me. Didn’t even bother to specify the method, the idiot. At least Barney knew how to make things look like accidents and knew how to make the most of my powers.” He floated down from the tree and looked up at you expectantly, waiting for you to follow, his face still hidden beneath the black mask.

“But won’t that make him the first suspect?” you asked as you rose, finally slipping your white mask into place, its design almost identical to your father’s. “That won’t help him win the election, if that’s what he wants.” You braced a hand against the trunk and jumped, cushioning your fall with your powers, still not strong enough to support your full weight with them.

“You need to understand that we don’t care about any of that,” he said calmly, shaking his head. “I’ll give him a murder worthy of the money he paid. I’m always very clear with my services, and if he wanted to be absolutely sure he wouldn’t get dragged into this, he should’ve added a bonus.” He headed toward the tall hedge surrounding the villa.

Using his powers, he opened a path through the thick greenery until he reached the hidden fence behind it, which he pushed aside effortlessly to create a gap large enough for both of you to slip through. He was astonishingly relaxed, as if there weren’t guards stationed at every corner of the building who might see you, not to mention the cameras.

With a flick of his fingers, he shattered the camera lenses and guided you toward the far side of the garden where your targets sat, making sure none of the guards caught sight of you. He couldn’t afford to be seen by anyone but his victim, not until it was too late. 

Your father, egotistical as always, loved being the last person his targets ever saw.

“This time, I want you to kill the mother and daughter,” he whispered, leaning against the villa’s wall. It was the first time he’d ever asked something like this of you, the first time he wanted you to seriously take part in his work. “After all the training we’ve done, you’ve shown at least some improvement, so I want to see if I’m wrong or not…”

“What?” You prayed he was joking. You didn’t want to kill anyone. Even just following him around, powerless to stop him, already felt criminal. You didn’t want to become an assassin at fifteen. “I’m not ready to-”

The politician was cutting into a thick, juicy steak with bodyguards stationed behind him, while his wife and daughter sat unprotected, proof that he wasn’t worried about their safety and knew he was the only real target. He understood perfectly well what he’d done in his life, and yet he ate in complete serenity.

Your father placed a hand on your head. There was no gentleness in the gesture, this was a threat. “You’re old enough for this. Remember, if it weren’t for your pathetic ideas, you would’ve become a killer long ago…” You felt his fingers tense before curling into a fist. “Your little brain is slowing down a very basic process. Is it really that hard to do what you’re told?”

You didn’t respond to the obvious provocation. You swallowed your rage and followed him toward the table where the family was still calmly having dinner, your head lowered.

Your father stepped out into the open, but with a sharp gesture ordered you to stay hidden, so you obeyed and remained behind the villa wall, watching the scene unfold from cover. He walked toward the family with unsettling calm, as though being there were the most natural thing in the world, as though that place belonged to him, but of course Barney didn’t take it that way.

“Shifter? What are you doing here?” the man asked, tense, and immediately the guards raised their guns, pointing them straight at your father. “I don’t recall inviting you into my home to discuss business.” His trembling hand dropped beneath the table to push a button, but nothing happened right away.

The assassin kept advancing completely unfazed by the weapons aimed at him, fully aware that they would do absolutely nothing to stop him, not even scratch him. Not so far from you, you heard voices, reinforcements who were clearly preparing to attack your father from behind, hoping to surround him.

You turned toward the wall at your back, noting with frustration that it had no handholds you could use to climb. Using your powers was the only option you had left. Not too high above you was a small ledge beneath a window, if you managed to reach it, you could slip inside the house without issue. 

You gathered every bit of strength beneath your feet, trying to lift your own weight even as your heartbeat sped up from both effort and fear.

“Dad?” the politician’s daughter whimpered, inching closer to him in terror as she watched the masked man approach, his black mask making him look even more threatening in the dim light.

“Who sent you?” Barney asked, finding a sliver of courage. He already understood what was happening and knew he didn’t have much time.

“Unfortunately, that’s something I can’t answer,” your father replied, far too calm, his tone making the girl flinch while her mother struggled to hide her fear, clinging to the hope that being less guilty than her husband might spare her life.

You reached your hand toward the ledge, your fingertips brushing the stone as you panted from the strain. “Come on,” you whispered, giving a small jump that allowed your fingers to latch on, followed quickly by the other hand. Your feet pressed against the smooth exterior wall, and once you steadied yourself, you began forcing the window handle open exactly the way your father had taught you.

Gunshots rang out. 

Some were aimed at your father in the garden under Barney’s orders, but he blocked them all effortlessly with his telekinesis. Nothing could stop him, nothing could touch him. Others came from your left: the reinforcements had spotted you and were firing in your direction. The moment you unlocked the window, you threw yourself inside as fast as you could, hitting the floor of what appeared to be the daughter’s bedroom.

You pushed yourself upright and hurried back to the window to check whether the men had left and to figure out where they were heading. A bullet skimmed your cheek, slamming into the open windowpane behind you and shattering the glass into glittering shards. 

Panic took over. You ripped the window from its hinges and hurled it toward them, hoping to hit or at least scare them off, then darted toward the bedroom door.

“I should’ve known I couldn’t trust you,” Barney said, raising his hands in surrender while his wife and daughter mimicked the gesture, silently begging for mercy. “You’re nothing but a pathetic mercenary. You go wherever the money is, nothing else matters to you. Not relationships, not real friendships… you’re just a miserable worm.” 

His wife shot him a warning glare, begging him not to provoke the assassin further, praying that sparing his pride might mean sparing his life. 

“But don’t worry, reinforcements will be here any moment. Reinforcements capable of actually stopping you…”

“And do these reinforcements also know what you asked me to do in the past?” the assassin replied, stopping on the opposite side of the untouched table, his gaze locked onto Barney. He slid his hands casually into his pockets. “Will they really protect a slimy man like you?”

“Me? Slimy? You’re the one who kills people. I’ve done nothing wrong,” Barney shot back with a cocky grin. “You were always the arm behind everything. You’re the filthy one, you’re the one who kills for money.”

The terrified daughter crawled under the table, trying to take shelter, then scuttled toward her mother on the other side. She burst out from beneath the table and bolted toward the glass doors leading into the living room. 

Her mother clutched her chest in panic as both Shifter and the politician turned to watch her run. Of course the assassin didn’t waste any energy on her, he knew you would be the one to deal with that.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered to yet another guard who had tried to stop you now lying paralyzed at your feet, a technique you had learned and fully intended to use on all of them so you wouldn’t have to kill anyone. “I didn’t mean to…”

“Help! Somebody help me!” a girl’s voice echoed through the vast house: the politician’s daughter, crying and begging for safety. 

Keeping silent, you followed the sound of her voice to assess the situation. Once you spotted her, she was desperately clinging to a panicked waiter who tried to comfort her with shaky pats on the shoulder, clearly just as terrified as she was.

The girl pulled out her phone, ready to call for help, but you snatched it from her hand using your powers before she could dial and threw it to the floor, shattering it. Both of them spun around in confusion, searching for the cause, and when they saw you standing at the top of the staircase, they stumbled back in horror. 

You descended step by step, just as shaken as they were, having no idea what you were supposed to do next… or how you were supposed to act.

“I don’t want to hurt you, I swear,” you said, placing one hand against your chest while raising the other to show you weren’t carrying any kind of weapon. “I don’t want to kill you…”

“Liar!” the girl screamed, shaking her head furiously. “You’re just like him! You work with that man… of course you want to hurt us!” She moved closer to the young waiter, who wrapped his arms protectively around her, trying to shield her even though he was trembling just as much.

Your gaze drifted to him, and unfortunately you knew you couldn’t risk leaving him conscious. You needed to knock him out. You used your powers to apply force to his throat, choking him slowly, just enough to make him pass out without killing him.

“What are you doing?!” the girl cried as she watched him struggle against the invisible pressure. “You’re killing him! I knew it!”

“No! He’ll pass out, but he’ll live,” you insisted, and right on cue the waiter lost consciousness and collapsed onto the wooden floor. “See?” You pointed at his chest. “He’s still breathing.” 

You met the blonde girl’s terrified eyes. “Please, listen to me. My father ordered me to kill you, but I don’t want to, I don’t want to hurt you… we can work together-”

A woman’s scream from the garden snapped both your heads toward the windows. Barney’s wife had thrown herself over her husband’s lifeless body, the bodyguards behind them had vanished, leaving not even corpses behind. 

The girl lifted a trembling hand to her mouth as tears streamed down her cheeks, and her horror only grew when one of the chairs was yanked into the air and hurled at her mother with such force that it struck her head and killed her instantly. 

Silence fell over the villa, and both you and the girl sat frozen, horrified by what you’d just witnessed.

You approached her carefully, placing a hand around her wrist, but she refused to respond. It was like touching stone. “Come with me, I’ll help you, I swear you’ll survive!” you begged, though her body remained stiff, unmoving.

“You killed my family…” she sobbed, covering her face with her hand before wiping her tears away with her sleeve. “You killed…” Her gaze snapped back to you, now filled with rage. “You killed my father and my mother! Why?”

“I didn’t want to…” you whispered, barely able to breathe, completely incapable of comforting someone your own age that went through all this. 

Suddenly a violent jolt of electricity surged through your body, ripping a scream from your throat as her hand clamped tightly around your wrist, her fingers digging painfully into your skin.

“I’ll make you pay!” she shrieked, grabbing your other hand as well, trapping you and keeping you from reacting. “I’ll kill you just like you killed my family, I swear I will. Are you enjoying this? Huh? Is this fun for you?” 

In her fury she stomped down on your foot, forcing yet another scream out of you, and you could feel your strength slipping. If you didn’t act soon, she might actually kill you. 

“Die, you disgusting murderous-”

A golf club suddenly slammed into her skull, killing her instantly. Blood spattered across your white mask as the electrical shocks vanished and her body collapsed limp against you. Your legs buckled beneath the lingering pain and the exhaustion crushing your muscles.

“What the hell is this?” your father muttered as he glanced at the waiter still lying on the ground, his chest rising and falling faintly. “I told you clearly: these techniques are only for kidnappings, not killings.” He pressed his boot against the unconscious boy’s throat, applying steady pressure until the breathing stopped and he suffocated quietly.

The other staff members had done nothing but watch, trembling too hard to even run, terrified that speaking might seal their fate. Your father let them be, he knew they wouldn’t dare seek revenge, unlike the daughter of the homeowners. 

He had warned you, you hadn’t listened and you had nearly died for it.

The man crouched and lifted you into his arms, seeing the condition you were in: unable to walk on your own and drained after everything that had happened. The gesture reminded you faintly of when he used to scoop you up as a child and carry you to bed, back when he still felt like a father instead of an evil mentor.

“You need to stop pretending you’re some kind of hero,” he said as he carried you toward the glass doors leading back into the garden where the massacre had taken place. “This kind of work isn’t for you. When will you understand that your father is right, and that everything he does… he does for you?”

That time, Mecha Man arrived far too late.

You were sitting in one of the break room chairs, arms crossed as you found yourself surrounded by your new teammates, the Z-Team. Punch Up wouldn’t stop glaring at you, probably because he’d already heard that Coupé had been officially fired thanks to you, though you tried your best not to let it get to you.

“Alright, Z-Team,” Blazer’s voice echoed in your ears through the earpiece you all wore, “we’ve found a new member who’ll support you during missions, so give a warm welcome to Y/N.”

Punch Up, Prism and Malevola, all of them in the room with you, turned your way with various shades of surprise… and it wasn’t unreasonable since you weren’t wearing the dispatcher uniform, though they assumed it was for some other reason.

“Is this a joke?” the small Irish-accented man snapped as he marched toward you, brows drawn tight. “You kicked Coop out just to put her in?”

“I didn’t even want to be here, okay?” you shot back, trying to keep your frustration from spilling over. “If that walking fire hazard and the bat guy hadn’t teamed up to force me to pay for his car damage, I wouldn’t be stuck here right now, so take it up with them.”

“My offer still stands by the way,” Sonar chimed in, reminding you of his oh-so-benevolent proposal to pay Flambae back.

“I already told you I’m not interested in your dirty money,” you snapped, slamming a hand on the table beside you, then turned back to Punch Up. “This is temporary, trust me, I hate being here with you guys just as much as you hate seeing me on your team.”

The man folded his muscular arms, his tattoos flexing with the movement. “Too bad Coop’s dismissal wasn’t temporary. It was final.”

His persistence made your teeth clench. “If Coop didn’t want to get fired, maybe she should’ve actually worked on the Phoenix Program, and maybe she shouldn’t have disrespected me in the conference room yesterday. You know perfectly well she wasn’t in the right.”

He shook his head, baffled. “I never said she was wrong actually, I said she was going too far.” His brow lifted. “You think I’m gonna like you after everything you said behind our backs? After getting one of us kicked out? You’re not exactly making it onto my ‘tolerable people’ list. Forget it.”

You sighed and rubbed your forehead, already emotionally done. “Robert, please tell me there are missions to assign, I can’t do this already. The sooner I earn what I need, the sooner I can leave.”

Robert, seated at his workstation, studied the Torrance map now peppered with calls. He moved his hand to the mic on his headset. “A man needs help moving some furniture. Golem, can you take that one?”

“Okay,” came Golem’s simple reply. You glanced out the window just in time to see the mass of rock and earth leave the branch and head south toward the call location.

“Perfect… a car went off the road. Invisigal, Flambae, take that one, they need immediate help,” Robert ordered, and both heroes rushed out of SDN to assist the driver. “We’ve got a call from the park, a fight between some kids in the skateboard area.”

You straightened immediately at that. “The skateboard area? I know exactly who those kids are.” You remembered one of them mentioning the constant fights they’d had with the high-schoolers. “I’ll take it.” You stood, forcing Punch Up to move as you left the break room.

“I’m not sure you can handle it alone. Someone should go with you…” Robert reasoned aloud, thinking through his options. “They don’t seem interested in talking things out. You might need someone who can match their energy… Punch Up, could you help her out?”

“Sorry, but absolutely not,” the man said as he dropped into a chair with slight difficulty, absently twisting his long mustache between his fingers. “She’ll manage on her own just fine.”

“Exactly Robert, it pains me to say this but Punch Up is right. I can take care of myself,” you added, trying to convince him to let you go alone. “And I prefer working solo, it helps me focus.”

“I don’t want to risk something happening to you on your first field call, you’ve never actually been out there before,” Robert replied, sounding firmer now, and you could hear him typing something on his computer while you reached the front parking lot, ready to head out. “Prism, give her a hand.”

“Ugh, if I really have to,” Prism muttered as she prepared to leave the break room, and you stopped at the edge of the parking lot.

“Wait, no! What part of ‘I want to go alone’ is unclear?” you protested, pressing a hand to your earpiece in anger. “Those kids will recognize me and listen, they trust me. I’ll put the bullies in their place and head out… can’t you see I’m made for this kind of thing?” Robert didn’t reply, which only irritated you further. “In case you forgot, before ending up here I was a dispatcher, Robert, I know how to do your job better than you.”

“And I’m not denying that,” he pointed out, annoyingly right, “but you were never the one solving the problems personally. You always sent people who were suited for the job, which is exactly what I’m doing. I’m not doing it because I doubt your skills, I’m doing it because I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Laughter echoed through the call, unsurprisingly Flambae’s was the loudest. Robert tried to settle the situation while Prism joined you, casually puffing on her vape. The two of you headed toward the park as quickly as possible. Meanwhile, Malevola, Sonar and Punch Up were sent to stop a brawl at the stadium.

The skateboard zone was unusually crowded. Older teens, most of them sixteen and up, surrounded a smaller group of middle schoolers, including the three kids you’d met outside the electronics store. The one who’d lent you his skateboard didn’t have it with him, meaning it clearly hadn’t been returned.

“Beat it, babies!” an older teen barked, laughing as he shoved one of the younger kids hard enough to send him crashing to the ground. “You’re late, you know the rules!”

“Today was our day, those rules don’t count anymore! You promised!” one of the outmatched kids shouted back, unafraid of getting hit despite the size difference. “You’re the ones breaking them!”

“We never said anything like that,” the high-schooler continued, sounding genuinely offended, he knew perfectly well the kid was trying to twist the truth just to win the argument. “The rule has always been that whoever shows up first gets the whole park for the day.”

“Exactly, so beat it. Leo got here first and you all know it,” added one of the older teens, pointing toward a boy who nodded to confirm it.

“But that’s not fair!” protested the same middle-schooler who had felt sympathy for Phenomaman earlier in front of the shop window. “This place belongs to everyone, not just you, we should be sharing it…”

“What are you talking about? If we share it, you know damn well they’ll hog all the space,” cut in the kid whose skateboard you had stolen that morning. “We wouldn’t even get to use the best ramps.”

“Just accept it, brats, you’re still too young for this stuff. Come back when you’re done with preschool,” laughed one of the teens, soon joined by all his friends. 

The younger kids, discouraged, looked ready to give up and leave, but you and Prism arrived just in time.

“Actually, the kid is right,” you announced, drawing everyone’s attention as you stopped a few meters from one of the ramps. “The park belongs to everyone, not just to you, and that includes the skate area,” you added, gesturing toward the concrete under their feet. “So do everyone a favor and tolerate the little ones.” 

Prism gave you a quick sideways glance, still puffing on her vape.

The middle-schoolers froze, recognizing you, though the boy you’d stolen the skateboard from didn’t look thrilled and was clearly wondering what the hell you were doing there. One of the teenagers approached you, skateboard tucked under his arm, a smug grin stretching across his lips.

“And who exactly are you supposed to be? One of these losers’ mom?” he taunted, snickering to himself. “Listen, lady, the rules here have always been the same: adapt and respect them. First come, first serve… now please stop bothering us and let us handle our business like the young adults we are.”

“You’re disturbing public peace,” Prism cut in calmly, her gaze sharp as she looked him over. 

The teen immediately turned toward her. “I’m not taking orders from some damn Barbie. Seriously, what the hell are you even wearing?” he scoffed, spreading his arms to put Prism’s outfit on display. His friends burst out laughing the moment they noticed her unusual look. “The ’90s are long gone, sweetheart.”

“Watch your mouth, you little shit. Who do you think you are, talking like that to people older than you?” Prism planted her hands on her hips and stepped forward, not remotely intimidated, though the boy kept smirking as if she were some sort of joke. “Give the kids their space or you’re gonna get in trouble.” She opened her hand, light beginning to glow around it, a clear warning that this was getting too close to escalating.

“No- hey, Prism,” you hurried to her side and gently pushed her hand down until the glow faded, earning a deeply offended glare. “They’re just teenagers. We can handle this without powers, okay? You’re not actually planning to hurt them, right…?”

“They disrespected me and they’re not cooperating,” she snapped back, eyes hard. “Robert told us to resolve this one way or another, so this is the way.”

“It’s not the only way.” You looked straight at the teen and stepped toward him. “Let the younger kids use the space too. This is your last warning.” You planted your hands on your hips and fixed him with a stern look.

“Pfft. Or what?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes, clearly not intimidated by either of you. “What are you gonna do, you and your little Barbie-Princess-Pop-Star friend? Give us a cute little concert?” He moved back toward his group, who poorly tried to appear threatening. 

Several of the older boys started shoving the younger ones again, knocking them to the ground on purpose, then kicking at them just to get under your skin.

“What the hell?” you muttered, hands curling into fists as shock hardened into anger. 

Prism reacted instantly, unleashing a burst of blinding light that struck several teens, who screamed and stumbled back clutching their eyes. 

You turned toward her, horrified. “No! Not like that!”

“They’re beating up kids, what the hell do you mean ‘not like that’? You want them to get stomped?” she barked, launching another barrage of light to scatter the crowd a little.

“You didn’t think you might hurt the kids too?” you shot back, placing a hand on her shoulder before pointing at several of the middle-schoolers who had dropped to their knees, crying and shielding their eyes. 

Prism froze, guilt twisting over her expression, but this wasn’t the time to argue. 

“Just help me punch these idiots instead…” You stretched your arms and shifted into a fighting stance, fists raised and ready to take on the bullies. 

Prism created several illusions of you, preparing to back you up, though she clearly didn’t have even a sliver of hope that this plan would work. Since when did you have any experience with hand-to-hand combat? Were you planning to use your powers? You stood no real chance against them, it honestly looked like you were just finding a convenient excuse to get punched in the face.

“Come on, are you serious? Over some kids? Over a damn skate park?” the group’s leader laughed, but you were in absolutely no mood for his jokes. “You really wanna fight? You don’t stand a chance against us. You’re a woman, you’re not as strong as we are.”

“Then put me to the test,” you challenged, still advancing toward him without hesitation, “go on, show me what you can actually do, you’re strong, aren’t you?”

His eye twitched with anger and humiliation, and before you could blink he threw his skateboard to the ground. He lunged at you, raised an arm and slammed his fist down on your wrist hard enough to make you wince and stagger back, yet he didn’t stop there and followed up with a kick to your leg that forced you to crouch.

His friends immediately attacked Prism’s duplicates, shredding them in seconds, while Prism herself tried to help her own way, knowing perfectly well she wasn’t exactly skilled in hand-to-hand combat and therefore had no issue relying entirely on her powers. 

She couldn’t understand why you weren’t doing the same.

The boy pinned you beneath him and kept hammering his fists onto your arms while you desperately tried to shield yourself. Your defense was starting to crumble under the pain, but you couldn’t allow him to get a clear shot at your face.

“Is this really all you’ve got? You’re pathetic!” he taunted while continuing to hit you, then drove a punch straight into your stomach that forced your guard to drop and used the opening to land one across your cheek. “Fuck off!”

You had the impulse to use your powers and end this whole damn situation in a heartbeat, but you swallowed it back, convinced you could pull through without relying on them. 

You reached both hands up to his throat and began applying pressure, not enough to truly harm him, just enough to scare him, to make him believe you might. The tactic worked immediately, and he straightened in panic, trying to pry your hands off.

A skateboard appeared behind him, moving so fast you didn’t even have time to register what was happening before it cracked against his head, forcing him to collapse forward with a pained groan and clutch his skull. You slipped out from under him while one of the middle-schoolers struck him again and again with growing force.

“No- stop, what the hell are you doing?” you shouted, one hand pressed to your aching cheek as you ran toward the kid, and this time you used your powers to snatch the skateboard out of his grip. “Do you want to kill him or what?” 

The teenager was fine, merely sore from the hits he’d taken to the back, but when he turned toward you two he didn’t look pleased in the slightest.

“Y/N, Prism, are you capable of teaching them a lesson they’ll actually remember, something that’ll stop them from pulling this crap again?” Robert asked, having clearly noticed the mess the situation had become, especially for you. 

Prism, unlike you, had done brilliantly and had already taken down almost all the bullies, now she was tending to the shaken kids and the ones she’d accidentally hurt.

“Of course,” your teammate replied as she headed toward the last of the teens, the one who had nearly gotten you pinned. “He’s not gonna see this amazing skate park ever again, trust me.”

“I think that’s a little excessive, could you not?” the dispatcher scolded her, obviously agreeing with your previous opinion. “He’s already half-dazed from the beating he took, I don’t think permanently blinding him is necessary, especially since everyone else already learned their lesson.”

You checked your arms, now covered in bruises from the punches and kicks, and approached the bully. “I think I’ve got a better idea,” you said, grabbing him by the leg and dragging him with some effort toward one of the skate ramps. 

“Since he likes them so much…” You shoved him down the ramp and watched his body slide across sun-heated concrete that would definitely leave more than a few unpleasant burns. “That asshole really needed to pay for this.”

“You bitches…” he muttered from the bottom of the ramp, arms and legs flushing red. “I swear you’ll pay for this, I’ll sue you!”

“For what exactly?” you asked, leaning over the edge of the ramp with your elbows on your knees as you looked down at him. “For trying to turn a public space into your personal property or for attacking a woman who was enforcing the law?” You let a confident smirk curl at your lips.

“We work for the SDN…” you continued, referring to yourself and Prism. The former criminal shot you a surprised look. “...so I’d think twice before starting a fight with us.”

“Go to hell!” he spat, struggling to stand and attempting to climb one of the ramps, but his worn-down shoe soles kept slipping and he slid back down miserably. “Fuck!”

The younger kids approached, and seeing him in such a pitiful state made them burst into laughter, he looked genuinely pathetic. Even the three kids you’d seen outside the shop earlier came over, this time to talk to you, especially the boy whose skateboard you’d stolen.

“Thanks for helping us… but now can I have my skateboard back? I’d like to spend my time here, you know?” He crossed his arms, clearly trying not to act like the brat he’d been the last time he spoke to you. “Where did you hide it?” he raised an eyebrow, fully intending to get an answer.

Prism walked up to you. “Mission’s done here, we have to return to the SDN,” she reminded you before turning and heading toward the park exit. But you couldn’t just leave the kid there: the shop was on the opposite side of the city and you wanted to make sure the owner was even willing to return it.

“I left it with the owner of the electronics store, but it’s a bit far and we can’t reach it on foot…” you explained, and his sad expression made guilt twist inside you for taking it without permission and failing to return it sooner. 

You placed a hand on his shoulder. “I can go with you to get it back though,” you said with a soft smile, then touched your earpiece and spoke to Robert. “How’s Sonar doing with the mission?”

“You do know the call is shared, right?” the half-bat man cut in the moment he heard his name, “you can ask me directly.”

“He’s currently on his way back with the rest of the team… why?” Robert asked, confused by your sudden interest in one of your teammates, wondering why you’d become concerned about him out of nowhere.

“Good, because I need him right now,” you said while taking the kid’s hand in yours, “we need a quick ride.”

“You think I’m a taxi or something?” Sonar asked, already flying in your direction, a detail that didn’t escape Robert, who watched the situation unfold on his computer screen.

“Maybe,” you replied with a little smile, “let me remind you that you still owe me a favor for what you did, soooo deal with it.”

“I’d have done it of my own free will anyway, don’t worry,” he said… and he wasn’t lying. Robert could have confirmed it, though he kept his mouth shut, refusing to get dragged into whatever was going on between the two of you. “I know I’m in your debt, actually I owe you twice, once for saving my job and once for getting you caught up in this really uncomfortable mess.”

“Perfect, then move those wings faster and get over here.” You bent down to scoop the boy into your arms despite his constant complaining, since being picked up like that embarrassed him to no end.

As soon as Sonar landed in the park in his giant bat form, everyone around stopped to stare, wide-eyed and thrilled. 

“That’s so cool! Did you see that?” they whispered as they circled him like he was a tourist attraction, a monument with fur. A few even reached out to touch his wings… something that clearly irritated him.

“No touching.” His red eyes snapped toward the younger kids near his most sensitive limbs. His fangs suddenly stopped being ‘cool’ and looked a lot more like a warning. The children immediately backed off.

“Can’t handle kids who admire you?” you teased as you approached, and he turned to look at you sharply. “I can only imagine how it feels when people treat you just like a walking furball with wings and too-long teeth.”

Sonar watched the way you held the boy in your arms, and the sight struck him as strange, he couldn’t decide what it made him feel: on one hand it was obvious you were good with children, but on the other he just couldn’t picture you dealing patiently with a bunch of twelve-year-olds. 

You weren’t exactly known for your patience, even if you were one of the SDN’s most qualified dispatchers.

“Ever considered applying for a part-time babysitting job in your neighborhood?” he shot back at your provocation while offering you his enormous paw, letting you climb onto it so he could lift you both onto his furry back, the boy seated in front of you.

“I already babysit you guys, unfortunately,” you muttered as he took flight, keeping a tight hold on the kid to prevent any chance of him slipping. “We need to get to the electronics shop near the museum.”

Thanks to Sonar’s flight speed the trip didn’t take long, you crossed half of Torrance in barely five minutes. Moments like these made you grateful he hadn’t been fired because Coupé wouldn’t have been able to carry both you and the kid for even half that distance…

When you landed in front of the shop you let the boy go, and he immediately bolted inside. Your teammate shifted back into his hybrid form, his clothes rumpled, and he instinctively started adjusting them in an attempt to look a little more presentable.

“That guy really did punch you, huh?” he murmured as he approached, reaching a hand toward your face, but you pulled back instantly with a look of disgust. “I mean-” he pointed at a few spots on his own cheek as reference, “the bruises are pretty obvious, does it hurt?”

“What do you think?” you sighed, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms. “He beat the crap out of me, of course it hurts!” You touched your cheek, and the moment you applied even the slightest pressure a sharp pain shot through it. “Shit, I need ice.”

“You could’ve easily handled them the way Prism did, your powers would’ve given you an advantage and you chose not to use them, it makes no sense.” Sonar genuinely couldn’t understand why you held back, why you denied yourself your own abilities so often.

“My choice,” you answered simply, your attention drifting to the TVs displayed in the shop window. A show you followed was playing, an episode you had already seen, but for some reason you couldn’t look away.

“Bad choice, because you could’ve avoided all those injuries,” the half-bat man muttered with a frown, “I thought you were smarter than that...”

“So it’s stupid to avoid hurting someone who’s clearly at a disadvantage because they don’t have powers?” You turned your head with a glare so sharp Sonar actually felt uneasy meeting your eyes. “I didn’t want to hurt him, that’s all.” You returned your gaze to the TV, stealing glances inside the shop where the owner was handing the skateboard back to the now-beaming kid.

“Just because he didn’t have powers? You shouldn’t limit yourself just because others aren’t like you.” He nudged you with his elbow in an attempt to lift your mood, but you hated the gesture and tensed immediately, jaw tightening. “Alright, okay, you don’t like being touched… I get it.”

“To be honest, I’d like to avoid having conversations like these with you while the whole damn team can hear us,” you said pointedly, tapping the earpiece you both wore to emphasize your annoyance. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Same for us,” Prism cut into the call, sounding thoroughly exasperated, “seriously, stop flirting while we’re forced to witness all of this.”

“I don’t think this counts as flirting,” you muttered, shaking your head while keeping your eyes on the TV as if nothing about the situation could possibly bother you. Sonar glanced at you as you shared your rather sharp opinion, but you didn’t waver. “And even if it were, it’s not working. It’s annoying more than anything. I don’t care about his concern for me any more than I care about any of you on a personal or emotional level. We’re just temporarily forced to work together, that’s all.”

The store door opened and the kid stepped out with his skateboard in hand, turning toward you just long enough to wave before heading off toward the park on his own. With four wheels he’d get there quickly, while you, on the other hand, had to walk all the way back to the SDN with Sonar since his transformation had only just worn off.

You and Sonar began walking side by side toward the branch office. The sidewalks were much livelier now than they’d been at dawn, most shops had opened and people were stopping to browse. A few passersby shot the two of you strange looks: partly because many of them knew you, since you were from the area, and partly because you were strolling around with a guy whose head looked unmistakably like a bat’s.

“Great job with the kid,” Robert suddenly praised through the shared call, and the warmth in his voice caught you off guard enough to make you smile… unfortunately, it also had the same effect on Sonar.

“You see, Bobert? Turns out I really was the right person to keep on the team.” He adjusted his tie as if highlighting just how important it was, and you immediately elbowed him in the ribs to shut him up, doing it for a good reason, though probably too late.

“Coop would’ve been helpful for this job too,” Punch Up cut in, clearly not thrilled with your teammate’s smugness. “And don’t think you’re special just because you’re still here. Remember, you’re still the weakest among us.”

“I remind you that the weakest member right now is someone else entirely,” Flambae chimed in, obviously trying to get under your skin, but rankings meant nothing to you. 

You weren’t there to become a real hero like them.

“Does she even count?” the small man still speaking from the branch asked sharply. “Anyway since you decided to keep a team member you all think is so gifted, maybe in getting himself handcuffed, my workday ends here.”

You and Sonar froze in the middle of the sidewalk and locked eyes. You didn’t even try to hide the fury boiling up inside you, your hands trembled with the urge to strangle him and it took everything you had not to give in. 

Sonar, meanwhile, hated seeing you like that and instinctively stepped sideways, trying to put distance between the two of you, though it did nothing to ease your irritation.

“Can you shut up for one goddamn moment?” you snapped, grabbing him by his beloved red tie and yanking him close just to be certain he heard you clearly. “Do you really have to run that sharp little mouth of yours?”

“So now I can’t even celebrate my achievements because you fired another team member? What kind of bullshit is that?” he protested, placing his hand over yours and pushing it away from his tie.

You shook your head in disbelief. “You know perfectly well that Punch Up and Coupè have history. Maybe if you stopped acting like a show-off and stopped highlighting the issue, things would be easier for all of us.”

“All of us?” the hybrid scoffed with a crooked grin. “So now you think you’re part of the Z-Team? Let me remind you that you’re the one who wanted one of us gone in the first place. Not my problem.”

“I’d prefer if you both hurried back to the SDN,” Robert interjected, trying to calm the situation before it exploded any further, “and if you really need to argue, please do it at the branch, alright? Not in the middle of the street. We have more calls coming in and I need your help.”

Two years had already passed since the death of Mecha Man Astral. One of his colleagues, a certain Elliot, had killed him for reasons still unknown… revenge being the most plausible explanation.

“I think you should use that amulet.” You met Mandy’s eyes as you sat on the edge of her bed, speaking gently but firmly. “Ever since Mecha Man died, the city’s been missing a symbol of hope. You could become that symbol.” You were the only one who knew about her supposed powers, the only person she trusted enough to confide in.

The brunette stared down at the necklace resting in her hands, her fingers trembling slightly as she shook her head. “I don’t know if I’m worthy of it. I don’t even know how to handle my powers, I don’t even know what they actually are! The only thing I’m sure of is that my hair changes color and turns blonde. How am I supposed to train without someone noticing?”

“You just have to be careful.” You offered a small smile in an attempt to reassure her, placing your hands over hers and urging her to close her fingers around the pendant. “I train without being discovered all the time.”

Her blue eyes lingered on yours, and she bit her lip thoughtfully. “Why don’t you keep the pendant?” she asked, her long brown hair falling softly along her shoulders. “It might even make you stronger, and you already know how to use your powers.”

You shook your head with certainty. “No, Mandy. I already have my powers… this is your chance to have something of your own, to be a hero, to make your dream real.” She looked at you, still not fully convinced, but you pressed on. “You’re a good person, you’re suited for this. You have the chance to become the strongest out there, to become a new symbol for the superheroes of Los Angeles, maybe even the whole world.”

After a few seconds she gave you a shy, reluctant smile. “And what about you? Just so you know, I’ll only do this if you help me. Didn’t you want to become a superhero too? We could be a duo.” Her hands slipped away from the necklace letting it fall on the mattress to take yours, guiding your gaze downward. “Think about it. We’d be unstoppable! You could even help me with my powers, teach me how to manage them since you have more experience… what do you say?”

You lifted your eyes back to her hopeful face. “I… think I can help you with the powers, but I’m not sure I’m that good in the field. I could assist you from behind the scenes, if you want.”

Mandy frowned, clearly confused by your answer. “Why? You have amazing abilities. You can literally move anything you want. Powers like that could help so many people.”

“I have… limitations, and you know that.” You moved away from her on the mattress, thoughts drifting to your father and the work he expected you to do alongside him. “I can’t be useful as a superhero. Look at the Brave Brigades for example: every one of them has powerful, flawless abilities that help people without consequences. I’d never measure up to them, and I’d probably make things worse… I’m not meant to help people.”

Mandy shifted closer and placed a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to look at her. “What are you talking about? You’re actually really good at helping others. How many times have you truly failed when someone needed you?”

“A lot, to be honest…” you admitted, your spirits sinking even lower. 

For two years you’d done everything possible to save the people destined to die by your father’s hand, but every attempt had ended in failure, either because they didn’t trust you or because you weren’t strong enough to protect them from him.

“I remember when you helped James study for that test… thanks to you he passed with an amazing grade, isn’t that helping?” Mandy continued, determined to lift your mood. “Or when you helped me finish my chemistry project, and when you helped my dad fix the TV? You’re honestly really good at solving other people’s problems, you should use those skills!”

Your leg started bouncing with anxiety and you stood up from her bed with a sudden jolt. “That’s different…” You didn’t even look at her, your back turned completely. 

“The truth is… my parents worry about my safety.” A half-lie, since your mother truly was worried, unlike your father. “Don’t think I haven’t told them before that I wanted to be a superhero once I got my powers. Their answer was a categorical no.”

Mandy looked disappointed for a moment before dropping her gaze back to the pendant. She picked it up again and held it between her fingers. “So… I’d have to be a superhero all by myself?”

You glanced at her from over your shoulder. “You’re strong enough to handle it. You were made for this, it shows on your face.” You turned fully toward her, placing your hands on her shoulders and giving her a gentle shake, a smile spreading across your lips. “I’ll help you train in our free time, trust me, you’re going to be amazing.”

Mandy returned your smile and rested her hand on yours. “So… any ideas for my superhero name?” she asked, eager to shift the mood, and you sat beside her again.

“What about… Blondie?” you suggested, excited by the thought. It was the first name that came to mind and, in your opinion, suited her perfectly. After all, the blonde hair was kind of her thing.

“Blondie? Nah, what kind of name is that? It sounds more like a nickname than a real superhero name!” she complained with a laugh, her cheeks turning pink with embarrassment. “Rejected. I don’t like it.”

“But Blondie fits you soooo well!” you insisted, clenching your hands into determined little fists. “If you really don’t like it, then I’ll call you that myself anyway. Accept it or… accept it, there are no other options.” 

You crossed your arms, pretending to be offended, and Mandy immediately wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer with a playful chuckle that made you laugh along with her, unable to resist the warmth of the moment.

After opening the break room fridge, you grabbed a cold bottle of water, practically dying of thirst in the heat and desperate for some relief. Prism and Sonar were sitting at one of the tables, both staring at their phones with a bored expression.

“There’s been another fight at the stadium, someone needs to handle it,” Robert explained over the call, focused on checking the best-qualified team members. “Prism, Golem, this time it’s your responsibility,” the dispatcher ordered, and the girl at the table immediately stood, leaving the room just before Malevola joined you.

“Mal!” her friend exclaimed with a smile, motioning for her to sit at his table. The demon woman approached smiling softly. “Have you heard the latest about Vanderstenk?”

You pressed the cold water bottle to your cheek, trying to dull the pain of the bruise that was growing more visible by the second, and contented yourself with watching the two of them interact from a safe distance, not intending to join in their conversation about that pathetic CEO whom Sonar seemed obsessed with.

“We have a call of vital importance.” Galen’s voice made you jump: whenever he appeared, it almost always meant the situation was serious. “Terrorists have planted a bomb inside the bank they just robbed. There are civilians trapped inside, and they need immediate assistance.”

“Shit,” Robert muttered, typing rapidly on his keyboard, likely checking the situation firsthand through the bank’s security cameras. “Are they armed? Where’s the bomb located?”

“No idea, but it’s definitely inside the building, probably in the vault?” Galen sounded genuinely frightened, a rare sight. “It’s not the first time something like this has happened in Torrance, but I think they placed the bomb somewhere unusual this time, probably to make us waste more time.”

“Do you know if they’re members of the Red Ring?” you asked, drawing the attention of both your teammates in the room. “It’s usually them who pull these huge stunts, and I’ve dealt with them before.”

“No idea for sure, but it’s likely them. Lately, they’ve been the ones attacking most often compared to the other gangs in the area,” your colleague replied, his agitation evident.

“I think I can handle this,” you said, setting the water bottle down on the break room counter, but Robert immediately intervened.

“Malevola and Sonar will come with you. The terrorists are still in that area, and I want to avoid them beating you up even more,” the dispatcher ordered. “The bank has tech I can hack into, so I’ll get you access to every room, allowing you to locate and disarm the bomb safely.”

Malevola rose from the table, approaching you with a gentle smile, her height slightly intimidating you. “You certainly can’t go in like this.” She extended a hand toward you, and beneath your feet, a strange demonic star formed, glowing red. A peculiar aura enveloped you, and gradually, the bruises and pain that had been plaguing you vanished. 

“Feeling better, right?”

You touched your wrist and examined your now-healed arms. “I’d say yes… thanks?” 

You avoided meeting the demon’s eyes as she stepped back, and a strange red portal opened on the window overlooking the parking lot. “We need to move, or we’ll be too late,” she explained, placing a hand on the hilt of her sword. 

You and Sonar positioned yourselves behind her, ready to follow her into the portal, emerging moments later in what appeared to be the bank’s lobby. Some of the terrorists turned toward you, weapons raised.

“I’ve got this,” Malevola announced, raising her sword and shielding you from several of the incoming bullets.

The demon lunged at the enemies without hesitation, attacking relentlessly, while you and the bat-man exchanged a brief glance. Some civilians tried to silently catch your attention, signaling for help. They had all been tied to the pillars or the metal chairs in the lobby. 

You couldn’t just leave them behind, putting their lives in danger.

Sonar grabbed your wrist, urging you to follow him, pointing toward a door behind the counter that likely led to the main offices. “We need to find the bomb. We can’t waste time rescuing these people first, we don’t even know if the timer’s started.”

“If that bomb goes off any second, all of these people will die,” you said, freeing yourself from his grip and glaring at him with determination. “We don’t even know where the bomb is. If we fail to find it, both they and we will die. Our priority is to keep them safe, so we need to make sure they’re secure first.”

“I just want to point out that their plan doesn’t make much sense, and I think the civilians were placed here specifically to waste our time,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to persuade you to listen. “It’s a trap for people like you who think about protecting first instead of acting. You have to think like a criminal, just like them. They’ve already gotten what they wanted, this is probably all just a setup.”

You turned to look at the poor civilians, their eyes fixed on the two of you, then glanced toward Malevola to see how she was faring against the terrorists, who were proving to be a real challenge, especially with reinforcements arriving. Their tech confirmed your suspicion: they were definitely Red Ring members, but you couldn’t comprehend the logic of a bank heist. 

Were they really that desperate for money?

“Fuck it,” you muttered, taking a few steps back and crouching beside one of the civilians. You looked at Sonar and pointed toward the door. “Let’s split up. You find the bomb and try to disarm it if you can, I’ll help the civilians.” Thanks to the techniques your father had taught you, undoing the knots was effortless, though your teammate took note yet remained rooted in place.

“It won’t take me long… move your ass if you don’t want to blow up!” you encouraged him as you freed the woman, helping her to her feet. She merely nodded in thanks before you moved on to the next hostage.

Sonar dashed off, narrowly avoiding a few bullets, while Malevola focused on the attackers trying to hit him, flinging them forcefully out of the building. The hostages weren’t many, but they were scattered across the lobby, and reaching them with armed terrorists watching your every move wasn’t ideal. 

Your powers became incredibly useful, allowing you to free multiple people at once, instructing them to gather behind the counter for safety from flying bullets.

“Malevola!” you called from behind a pillar after freeing the last civilian. Her amber eyes quickly located your barely visible figure. You pointed toward one of the walls near the counter. “We need to evacuate!” 

Understanding immediately, she opened a portal leading to a safe part of the city. You thanked her with a simple thumbs-up, and the civilians hurried to escape through the portal.

Some of the Red Ring criminals, noticing the evacuation, raised their weapons, aiming to shoot the defenseless people, while others lunged at Malevola to distract her, preventing her from protecting everyone personally. 

You stepped out from your hiding spot and positioned yourself in front of the counter, intercepting the incoming bullets. Even though the area was large, it wasn’t a problem, the moment you appeared, the idiots shifted their focus to you. 

Clearly, they had unfinished business.

“Still haven’t realized these weapons are useless against me?” you taunted, a smirk playing on your lips. The frustrated criminals kept shooting, giving you the chance to catch even more bullets. “Didn’t you learn anything working with my father before? His methods? You really have no observational skills.”

“How dare you, bitch?” one shouted, clearly offended, lowering his weapon more concerned with putting you in your place verbally than actually killing you. “I’ve been in this field far longer than him! If anything, he should be learning from me!”

“Questionable words, coming from the daughter who disappointed him the moment she gained powers,” added a girl, keeping her sights on you. “What have you even learned working with him? He always said you were a disaster.”

You shrugged. “Just because I’ve refused to kill doesn’t mean I haven’t learned anything.” 

The Red Ring members resumed firing at you, to no effect, then began advancing, hoping to gain an advantage up close. 

“I’m a stationary target… don’t you even have a little aim?”

“Shut up, traitor!” one yelled, pressing the trigger faster. 

You backed up until your back pressed against the edge of the wooden counter. “Listen, I don’t have time for this. Where’s the bomb you planted?” you demanded, your tone calm and confident even in this hellish situation. “We could reduce your sentence if you cooperate.”

“No way! It’ll explode soon, taking all of you with it, and there’s nothing you can do!” Their ammunition ran out, and in desperation, they hurled their weapons at you, hoping to land a hit but it did nothing. 

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Fine, then it’s my turn.” You redirected the bullets toward them, pointing your fingers, and the projectiles flew at incredible speed striking non-lethal points, legs and hands mostly.

The remaining bullets targeted the criminals still tangled with Malevola, giving her a significant advantage. She glanced at you, winked, and returned to the fray.

“Sonar, did you find the bomb?” you asked over the comms, casting a quick glance at the sprawled, bleeding criminals, some giving you the middle finger in pain, which only made you smile.

“Technically, yes… but I think there’s a problem. Robert’s trying to help me, but it’s more complicated than we expected,” Sonar’s voice carried a hint of worry. “Have you freed all the hostages?”

“Yes.” You vaulted over the counter and entered the same door your teammate had gone through moments before. “Can you tell me where you are?”

“Okay… it’s like an office on the first floor, there should be stairs right after you go through the door,” he instructed. 

You followed his directions, and once you climbed the stairs, you found yourself in the same office where Sonar was already stationed, the bomb sitting ominously on one of the desks. 

“It looked like an innocent package, but it was far too suspicious,” he stepped aside, letting you get a closer look.

“From the descriptions Sonar gave, I can’t find any useful information on how to disarm it in the SDN’s report databases, it’s a completely different model from the ones used in the past,” Robert explained, trying to keep his composure, his brow furrowed in concern. “You need to get rid of it immediately. Thirty seconds, and it’s over.”

You narrowed your eyes, studying the device more closely, lifting it to examine every angle of the small box with the timer steadily counting down. Sonar looked at you, confused and worried. “Let’s go before it explodes! I tried to disarm it, but this is something I’ve never seen before… it doesn’t even follow a logical coding pattern. I don’t think there’s a way to turn it off.”

Then your eyes landed on the underside of the bomb, and they lit up at the sight of a very familiar inscription. “Found it!” You set the bomb down on the desk and rubbed your hands together, your heart hammering with adrenaline. 

Only fifteen seconds remained. 

“Of course it doesn’t follow logic, the person who built this isn’t a professional bomb-maker, but everything is sensible if you know their methods.”

“You need to get out, now!” Robert ordered, and Sonar immediately prepared to obey, eager to save his own skin.

“The Red Ring doesn’t make their own explosives, they buy them from other gangs,” you explained, spinning colored wires in your hands with focused precision. “Gangs who, in turn, purchase from a well-known figure in the criminal world most of the time… and I’m surprised no one here knows him.” You glanced at Sonar, who shook his head, clueless about who you were referring to. 

“He’s famous for designing bombs that are notoriously difficult to disarm, precisely because he ignores standard bomb-making rules. I got to know him through my father.” Once you had sorted all the wires by color, you pulled them in a specific order, the method drilled into you long ago. 

Every movement made Sonar brace for the worst.

The timer stopped the instant you input the universal code the bomb-maker always used, coincidentally, his birthday in reverse digits. Original… except that it happened to be your birthday too, a detail you could never forget.

“Done.” A smile spread across your lips as you exhaled in relief, holding the now-deactivated bomb in your hands. Beads of sweat rolled down your forehead, a sign of the fear of failure you’d carried seconds ago. “Bomb disarmed, criminals contained, civilians safe… I’d call that a success.” You turned toward your teammate, who hadn’t expected you to speak to him voluntarily.

Sonar gave a small smile, letting out a nervous laugh to ease the tension. “Yeah, it was a success… I knew you’d pull it off. You’re experienced in this kind of thing… never doubted you.”

“Siiiimp,” Prism’s voice suddenly cut through the call, shattering the rare, perfect moment for the bat-man.

You talking to him with a smile? He felt like he was in heaven.

“Sure you didn’t soil yourself?” you teased, nodding at his pants with a smirk. He looked down, unsure if you were serious or just joking. “You were pretty tense a moment ago...” 

With the bomb tucked under your arm, you headed down the stairs toward the main lobby, Sonar following close behind.

Malevola was surrounded by enemies, all knocked out and sprawled on the floor. As soon as she spotted you, she waved in greeting. “Nice work,” she said, first looking at her companion and then at you with a bright smile. “I think they’ll pay us extra for this job.”

“Pay is always the same, no matter the mission, you should know that…” you told the demon woman without even looking at her. 

Outside, several cars belonging to journalists had already pulled up, eager to hear what you’d declare to the press. 

“...but it’s something we can definitely brag about later.” You gave her a playful wink, a gesture you wouldn’t make in any other context, but for celebrating a mission like this? You couldn’t act cool when they had truly earned it.

“Great work, all three of you,” Robert congratulated over the comms as the three of you exited the building and were immediately swarmed by reporters.

At the end of the day, you decided to take a shower in the SDN locker room since you had already resolved not to go home immediately that evening. You needed to unwind, to let go, and not think too much about everything that had happened that day. 

Blazer had promised to take care of Phenomaman until he recovered and until you’d reimbursed the damages you had caused to Flambae’s car. To be fair, you hadn’t seen Phenomaman at all since your shifts had started.

The warm water ran over your body, making you feel renewed, a sensation you desperately needed after all the movement in the summer heat. Your hands traced along your back near the spine, and between the vertebrae, you could feel something unnatural and metallic embedded within, stretching nearly the length of your spinal column. 

It had been there for years, even though it no longer served any purpose: a harsh reminder of a past you’d rather forget.

The only change of clothes you had with you was your dispatcher uniform because you refused to put on the same clothes you’d worn all day. Once your light blue shirt was buttoned and your brown pants were on, you left the locker room and returned to the office where only a few colleagues remained, including Robert, busy as usual organizing some papers. Typical dispatcher work. 

Seeing you arrive, your colleague offered a small smile and leaned back against his chair. 

You crossed your arms and rested against the partition, watching him work. “Still working after everything that happened today?” you asked, a teasing smirk on your lips. Little Beef jumped from his cardboard bed and ran toward you, forcing you to scoop him up and shower him with affection. “You know, you should probably get him a more… comfortable bed.”

“Well, they aren’t exactly cheap, and I’d rather not spoil him,” he replied, rising from his desk to handle the papers. He stapled them together and set them aside, then turned back to you noticing your uniform. “Starting your shift now?”

“I’ve done enough work for today,” you said, stroking Beef’s soft muzzle. “Unfortunately, this is the only change I have left to go out in.” You looked at Robert, a hint of excitement flickering in your expression, hoping he would ask for more details.

“Oh, you have plans for tonight?” he asked, opening a desk drawer to put away the stapler. “I don’t think showing up in your work uniform is particularly… elegant for a dinner out, but hey, everyone has their own tastes.” 

He shut off his computer and met your gaze. The moment his eyes caught your slightly annoyed expression, he froze.

“You’re such an ass,” you shook your head, laughing, and he joined in, a little tense. “I came here to ask you out for a drink and you’re mocking me?”

“Ask me out?” he raised an eyebrow, puzzled by your boldness. “I didn’t think you were this… decisive about these things.” He tucked the chair under his desk and came around the partition, and you handed him Beef.

“I wanted to offer you a drink at Crypto Night. I know you’ve already eaten, so I thought it would be perfect,” you said placing a hand on your hip and turning your back slightly, ready to lead him out of the branch, but Robert didn’t follow.

“Crypto Night is a bar for superheroes… it’s reserved for them. We can’t just go in,” he reminded you, recalling his last visit, when Mecha Man had been banned after the incident with Flambae. “We’re dispatchers.”

You crossed your arms and cleared your throat. “Maybe you’re forgetting that the person in front of you is now part of the Z-Team, and that makes me, by extension, a superhero. Dopple has a special offer for the first day of service: free drinks. That means I drink for free tonight.” You pointed at Robert, and his brown eyes followed your finger. “And since you’re my dispatcher… well, you get a free pass too. You haven’t gone to Crypto Night with a Z-Team member yet, have you?”

“Well, I’d say no… I’ve worked here since Friday…” he answered, a little embarrassed. “But it seems… unusual. Is it even legal for me to go there?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” you invited him again, and this time he followed. “Do you ever think that maybe SDN dispatchers want to spend an evening with their teammates? Crypto Night is the perfect place to meet without forcing superheroes to reveal their identities, but that only works with members of your own team.”

“I had absolutely no idea…” Robert’s gaze softened as he looked down at his little companion, who wagged its tail happily. “But I didn’t expect you to come and ask me specifically. Today, you seemed way friendlier with the other team members… you could have asked them instead.”

You shook your head, letting out a small laugh. “I think after dealing with all of them, you probably need a little alcohol.”

“Do I really seem that hopeless?” He glanced down at himself and ran a hand over his face. “Maybe I have a little bit of dark circles… but I’m not that stressed… am I?”

Once you left the branch and called a taxi to take you to Crypto Night, you stepped into the bar, already bustling with heroes, some working independently, others representing the SDN. 

You chose a wooden table to sit at, and Beef curled up peacefully at Robert’s feet. One of Dopple’s copies approached, a guarded expression on his face the moment he saw your SDN uniforms.

“Crypto Night is a bar reserved for superheroes, not dispatchers,” he warned, hands full with a tray of empty glasses. Robert looked at you, speechless, clearly unsure of how to respond.

“Well, I’m a member of the Z-Team,” you said, pointing to the TV above the counter, which happened to be showing the news of your, Malevola’s, and Sonar’s success at the bank. “I’m officially a superhero now, and this is Robert, my superior. It’s my first day in this world, so drinks are on the house, right? And that includes my superior since it’s his first time here too, yes?”

Dopple squinted suspiciously but said nothing, retreating without another word. Another copy appeared with a menu, listing a myriad of cocktails, though you already knew what you were ordering.

“I’m not really in the mood for anything too strong, so I’ll just have a simple beer,” Robert said, lowering the menu, his eyes curious to see your choice.

“Straight vodka,” you replied, placing the menu on the wooden table. He looked at you, slightly concerned. “I like the taste. That’s it.”

“Isn’t that too strong for you without mixing it with something, like juice…?” He raised an eyebrow, his brown eyes betraying his worry. “And how can you like the taste? It’s… pure alcohol. Tastes like household disinfectant.”

You laughed. “Have you ever drunk disinfectant before?”

“No, but the taste and smell are so similar, I figured disinfectants probably taste like vodka,” he explained, leaning back in his chair, one arm resting casually on the backrest, though he still scanned the room, a little uneasy.

“Well, disinfectant must be delicious then, Robert,” you teased, but noticing his cautious attitude, you quickly changed tone, resting your arms on the table. “Why are you so on edge? Something wrong?”

Robert didn’t meet your gaze, too focused on monitoring a few superheroes chatting animatedly at the bar. “It’s just… I have mixed memories about this place,” he admitted, turning toward you and waiting for you to catch on.

Your eyes widened. “You… were a superhero?” You straightened in your chair, incredulous. “No way. Who were you, if I may ask?”

“Unfortunately, I can’t say… it’s a temporary secret, like my job at SDN,” he explained quietly, though loud enough for you to understand. “My career ended some time ago and I was left without work.”

“Oh, I see.” At that moment, Dopple returned, ready to take your order. You turned to him, holding up two fingers. “One beer and a glass of straight vodka.”

“Just that?” he asked to confirm, and when you nodded, he disappeared behind the counter to fetch your drinks.

“So you work at SDN just while waiting to get back into action?” you asked, genuinely curious about your colleague. “I have a few superheroes in mind who might fall into that category, but none of them seem like someone willing to handle a pack of rabid dogs like the Z-Team.”

Dopple returned with your drinks, including a glass of water for you in case you wanted to dilute the vodka, though you knew you wouldn’t need it. You lifted your glasses together, realizing neither of you had any real reason to toast or celebrate this night.

“Well, personally, I’d toast to your new job, after everything that’s happened to you,” you offered, a slightly nervous smile on your face. Robert smiled too, bringing his glass closer to yours. “And I hope you can get back to doing your real work as soon as possible.”

He let out a small laugh as he raised the glass to his lips. “Oh, so you don’t want to see me in the office anymore?” he asked sarcastically.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” you clarified, not immediately catching his joke, honestly thinking you had offended him. “I mean, don’t you want to get back to being a superhero, living your old life? There’s a big difference between saving lives and sitting behind a computer, hidden from the world.” You sipped your drink without hesitation, savoring the familiar feeling you’d missed.

“Sure, it’s been a change not to underestimate,” he said after taking a sip of his beer, a bit of foam lingering under his nose that he quickly wiped away. “And I know that sooner or later I’ll go back to my old life, though I don’t mind this job, and I think if we manage to make the Z-Team better, it could actually become even more enjoyable.”

You furrowed your brows at his statement. You weren’t entirely convinced that the Z-Team would improve, even though everyone had worked hard today, giving their all, and their successes had been recognized. 

Deciding not to dwell on it, you lifted your glass and took another sip of vodka.

“And you?” he asked, making you lift your gaze from your glass. You let out a sigh, letting the warmth of your breath mingle with the bar air. “I was wondering how you ended up working here at the SDN. You’re skilled as a superhero and you have powers. I was curious why you’re usually not on the front lines, why you sit behind a desk instead.”

You traced a finger along the rim of your glass, resting your cheek against your hand as memories of your first days at SDN surfaced. “I needed a job too. Believe it or not, I was buried in debt after my mother passed and my father disappeared… Blondie offered to help me once I got out of prison, but I refused eventually. I just couldn’t keep living off her family, you know? I had to leave and live my life on my own.”

Robert looked at you, sadness flickering in his eyes. “But you didn’t succeed, I imagine.” You shook your head, and he simply stared at the golden liquid in his glass, his reflection shimmering within it. “I’ve heard that name… Shifter. But I didn’t know he had a daughter, and I had no idea it was you.”

“Crazy, right? It’s insane that you had no idea Shifter had a family, a daughter he’d been carrying with him for years.” You tried to smile but failed. “He was so infamous in the criminal world that everyone wanted him dead, yet I wasn’t important. It was well known that I rejected the criminal life, so they ignored me… maybe that was lucky. Though it meant I was marked and humiliated for life.”

The man across from you took a slow sip of his beer before adding, “I know Shifter was captured by Blonde Blazer not long ago. It’s odd that he hasn’t escaped from that prison… and even stranger that no one has killed him, despite so many wanting him dead.”

“I don’t care if he’s alive or dead,” you said, gripping your glass, your hand trembling slightly with the anger that rose at the thought of your father. “The important thing is that he can’t hurt anyone else.”

Robert, still curious, pressed further. “Don’t you find it strange that with his skills and powerful abilities, he hasn’t managed to escape?” You didn’t answer, continuing to drink, trying not to think about it. “It’s suspicious… I think he’s plotting something. Maybe he’s waiting for you to go to him? Could that be possible?”

You slammed your glass down on the table hard enough that nearby superheroes turned to look at you. Silence fell on your side of the bar. “That bastard has no intention of seeing me. He hasn’t shown up since I was seventeen, and he had plenty of chances to come back…” You did your best to keep the tears at bay, and somehow it worked, even though your eyes glistened enough to betray the alcohol excuse. “He was arrested a year ago. Eleven years he had to find me… and he never did.”

The brown-haired man glanced around to ensure no one nearby was misinterpreting your conversation. Too late. Beef had woken up too, disturbed by the noise you’d made. 

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to go into so much detail, it’s just that some of these details are… suspicious. If it helps, I also didn’t have a great relationship with my father. Or, well… it was complicated.” His expression darkened at the thought, and you realized it was time to steer the conversation toward something lighter.

“I guess we both had complicated childhoods,” you said, offering a small smile to lift both your spirits. “Seriously, what’s wrong with parents nowadays? At least we’re not like them, right?” You raised your vodka glass, but Robert didn’t seem particularly enthusiastic, though he smiled.

“Damn, I really ruined the moment, huh? My bad… I should be less emotional when talking about this stuff. I get angry too easily, I-” You closed your eyes and sighed. “Do you have a favorite show, by the way?”

He shook his head, unable to resist a laugh at your sudden, out-of-context question. “Seriously, you just changed the subject like that?” He took a sip of his beer. “I don’t even have money for a TV.”

“You’re serious?” You widened your eyes in disbelief. “How bad is it on a scale from one to ten?”

“Exactly how does this scale work? Is one the minimum, indicating the quality of my life, or ten the maximum, highlighting how much my life sucks?” Robert joked, and both of you laughed despite the grim topic. “Anyway, back to earlier… don’t blame yourself. I shouldn’t have pressed you with questions, seriously.” You nodded in understanding. 

You both finished your drinks, leaving only your untouched glass of iced water.

“Blonde Blazer taught you how not to get drunk?” Robert asked, genuinely impressed that you had downed a glass of straight vodka so quickly and remained composed.

“Oh, no, I mean, the concept is similar, but also very different at the same time. We both use our powers to… stay sober,” you explained, feeling a little embarrassed by the question. “Blondie literally can’t get drunk because of her powers. It’s not something she wants, but her amulet stops her. I, on the other hand, use mine to prevent alcohol from actually reaching my stomach like it’s supposed to before I head home.”

Robert raised an intrigued eyebrow. “And how exactly does that work?”

“The drops of alcohol don’t weigh much. I keep them suspended in my stomach so they don’t affect my body,” you said, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair. “I still suffer from hangovers the next day, unfortunately, but I’d rather not go into details… at least that side of me remains unseen. Besides, I care about my image. I don’t want to be annoying or vulnerable while drunk and risk some guy taking advantage of me on the way home.”

“That’s… a clever move,” he remarked, clearly fascinated by both your powers and the way you used them. “Have you ever actually considered being a superhero? You didn’t answer that before.”

“Well, of course I did,” you admitted. “Honestly, both Blondie and I wanted to become superheroes someday. Everything started when I got my powers at six, you can imagine what that does to a child’s mind.” You began fidgeting with your thumbs as you spoke.

“Hope,” he guessed, and you nodded, confirming his answer. “And from hope came dreams, I assume?”

“Exactly… and while Blondie is better suited to being a superhero than managing powered people, I’m more skilled at keeping superheroes in line than acting personally.” You picked up your glass of water and offered it to Robert. “Want some?” He shook his head, so you drank it yourself to refresh.

“I think you did an excellent job today, and you could really be a strong temporary addition to the team,” he said with a smile. But this time, his comment didn’t sit entirely well with you. “Obviously, you have your own team to manage… how’s Phenomaman, by the way? As a superhero, I mean.”

You let out a dry laugh. “If you’re thinking of bringing him onto your team, you’re way off. Phenomaman stays on mine.” You pointed at him in mock accusation, though your playful tone made it clear you weren’t serious. “But he is really strong and useful… fast too, and thanks to his passion for the job, he often refuses to rest properly after missions.”

“He really cares about your team, from what I saw this morning,” he said, referring to the way Phenomaman held the photograph you’d given him and then returned. It was now back on your desk. “I’m still sorry about what happened with Blonde Blazer, but I guess he’ll recover.”

You grit your teeth in frustration. “Because of Flambae and Sonar, I’m forced to work in the Z-Team and earn the money to pay for that damn criminal’s car… I can’t be there for him during this complicated time, just when I thought I’d given him the best advice to move forward and overcome this…”

“And that would be…?”

“Focusing on something else,” you shrugged and crossed your arms. “Don’t think about Blonde Blazer… I guess it works for an alien like him. He still has a lot to learn about Earth customs.”

“You make it sound easy when a breakup is anything but,” he said, uncertain, resting his arms on the table. “Have you ever been in a relationship yourself to give advice like that? I doubt he’ll recover so quickly if it’s his first… he seemed pretty down to me.”

“I have no idea, but I tried to help him, it seemed like good advice…” For a moment, his observation made you feel insecure, like you’d given Phenomaman the wrong advice. “He’s always been obsessed with her, and honestly, he should find other hobbies. Don’t you think?”

Robert leaned back in his chair. “Okay, if you put it that way… I guess you did the right thing.” 

You finished your water. “I really needed that…” You glanced at your wristwatch and noted the time. “Well, I’d say it’s been a pleasant evening. I should probably head home… you know, buses run less frequently at night, and I’m not paying for a taxi… it’s more expensive.”

You both stood and immediately Beef sprang up, drawing Robert’s attention, he scooped the little dog into his arms. After thanking Dopple for the drinks, you left the Crypto Night, the cool night air brushing against you, sending a shiver down your spine.

“I just want to say again that you did a fantastic job out there today,” Robert told you, you smiled in return. “I guess I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.”

“You did a great job behind that desk too,” you added, giving him a playful elbow before walking toward the bus stop at the opposite end waving at him. Hands tucked in your pockets you kept walking, a smile lingering before fading as thoughts of your father returned.

Many wanted him dead… and you were certain of it, because you had known some of those people firsthand after your father had abandoned you. He had crossed the line, and everyone feared him, while others wanted to exploit him for their own gain. 

If only you had killed him when you had the chance… you wouldn’t have been in debt to those beings, and you’d have one less problem to deal with.

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• Rumbling as he crosses his arms over his chassis, Barricade’s head turns at the sound of your boots. And his optics slide over you, realizing that you’re in his colors. That it’s an invitation. A statement that you accept him. Pushing away from the wall, he stalks your way as you hesitate. “About time,” he rumbles, door wings lifting. “You finally decide you can do better than him?” Mass shifting as he approaches, he can hear Prowl growling at him in their language. Ignoring his brother, he reaches and grips your chin to tip your face up. “You’re overdressed.”

• Door wings trembling in outrage, Prowl’s jaw clenches. But you are wearing both their colors and he knew this day would eventually come since Barricade is as bound to you as he is despite not even claiming you, yet. “You don’t want a bath?” You ask, voice soft and breathless to make his spike stir. ‘Rather have you,’ Barricade growls, head lowering and mouth covering yours. Plating lifting as he strides over, he’s mass shifting to pull you away from the other mech. But then he catches the shift in your scent. Groaning as you make a breathless noise when Barricade’s mouth skims your throat, he grits his denta and meets his brother’s optics over your head.

• Maybe you stroked out from the heat? Because you’ve got one of them behind you, hands sliding possessively over you as the other one kisses you stupid. Hear material rip and one of them snarls but then you’re fumbling for the zipper on your coveralls and trying to squirm out of them. Hands catch your hips and lift you and you’re not sure which of them it is as your underwear digs into you before ripping. And you feel Prowl’s spike release to pressurize against your butt at the same time Barricade’s own spike pressurizes. Belatedly realizing how much bigger than you they both are even mass shifted, you have a moment to feel slightly concerned before Barricade is moving against you, the head of his spike stretching you even though your coveralls are caught on the tops of your boots so you can’t wrap your legs around him.