TIME BOMB TOWN.

           ‘   I’m not crazy.   ’   denial---one of her signature moves. she can tell when people believe her and when they don’t; perhaps she’s so quick to jump on the defensive because of other uniformed officers nearby, shooting doubtful glances her way intermittently. she pushes past her own feelings of sheepishness at reporting yet another threatening phone call, arms crossing over her chest.   ‘   I know what a prank call sounds like. I’ve dealt with them since I was seventeen. when the person on the other end threatens dismemberment? they usually deliver.   ’

            ‘   this is so boring.   ’   she’s half-shouting over booming bass as she leans closer to her friend---a genuine friend in this mass of greek row robots. not that she’s going to voice that thought out loud, but she knows steve’s cool. she knows he gets it. and maybe she’s a little irritated at her roommate and the alcohol is exacerbating all of that; still, she takes another gulp of vodka with a splash of cranberry juice and rolls her eyes.   ‘   danielle’s being such a headcase tonight over this drama with nick---honestly, I’m over it. what’s new with you?   ’

             ‘   it’s not like I don’t love seeing you here.   ’   sarcasm---specifically of the good natured kind reserved for friends. maybe john bender doesn’t consider her one, exactly, but she’s working---and she knows his type. notepad and pen are poised, as she gives a soft, only mildly-forced smile.   ‘   but I need you to order something before my manager gets ticked. a cup of coffee’s eighty-six cents. I’ll even give you free refills---just work with me here, alright?   ’

              ‘   no need to be shy,  darling.   ’   languid words drip with a certain sinful quality as scotch is place decisively on the bartop, fingers pulling at suit jacket to straighten the lines; certain people earn his full attention---especially if they come blonde and leggy. a hand extends to find hers, as lips curve in a devilish smirk.   ‘   what can I do for you? what is it that you desire?   ’

            ‘   son of a---   ’   he cuts himself off before expletive can be spoken. sure, he has no qualms about cursing in front of peter---the kid’s probably heard worse while thwipping through the city  ( something he’s still wrapping his head around---the mechanics, mostly ). it’s mostly the adrenaline of nearly escaping death alongside a one-time adversary that’s spinning his world upside-down. y’know, outside of the whole prison break ordeal. now he’s going to be on mysterio’s radar, but that’s not the primary concern at the moment. eyes narrow in a critical gaze at the masked hero---he almost looks incredulous.   ‘   do you have a death wish or somethin’, kid? y’need to learn to stop cutting it so close.   ’   translation: good to see you again.