The Incredibles belongs to Disney Pixar. Not making money off it, don't claim it. Starbucks belongs to Starbucks. It's a good device, and it only makes a cameo or two.
Again, blame the talented young lady on DeviantArt named Crispy Gypsy for my interest in this pairing. Also, go look at her art, for it is good.
Violet's face hurt. No one was built to smile for eight hours at a go. No one.
"Thanks," she said as cheerfully as she could manage. "See you again tomorrow." What came out of Kari like a chirp came out of Violet like a groan. One slim hand came up in a halfhearted wave as the customer – a portly, forty-something-year-old mother of four screaming terrors – waddled out the door of Metroville's newest Starbucks. Violet found herself longing for a nice, quiet evening with a twelve-year-old speed demon and a three-year-old who could catch on fire and laugh about it.
"Come on, Vi!" Kari chirped at about a hundred thirty decibels from about six inches away. Violet jerked sideways, cupping her left ear. Oblivious, the girl who had been Violet's most persistent and sometimes only friend urged her, "You can make it! Only twenty more minutes!"
Kari pounced on Violet, and Violet rolled her eyes and groaned. She'd pretty much given up on making Kari not touch her. The girl, who had eight months on Violet's seventeen years, had the personal boundaries of a gnat. She was loud and expressive and everything Violet wasn't; her hair was a smooth auburn tumble that made Violet incredibly jealous, and she had a smattering of freckles across her nose that she declared to be unbearably cute. The only thing that kept Violet from being too bitter was the fact that Kari still needed braces to correct her single inherited flaw.
"Keeeeep smiling!" Now Violet's ears hurt as well.
Okay, Kari had two real flaws, and Violet was pretty sure this one wasn't as easy to fix as a severe overbite.
With one deceptively slender arm, Violet levered her friend off her shoulder and held her at a distance. "Arm's length, Kari." She said this with a wan smile to soften the words.
"Oooh, come on, sourpuss!" Kari said in the same tone of voice she used to get infants to open up for a spoonful of mashed carrots. It made Violet clench her teeth. Kari waggled one rough-looking finger at her friend and propped the other fist on her green-aproned hip. "Let the thought of escape lighten your mood!" She leaned forward, but this time she lowered her voice when she added, "Kim's watching."
A quick glance down the counter showed that their manager, a round black woman in her thirties with close-cropped hair, was chatting amiably with a customer. But her wide, dark eyes were undeniably on Violet. When she caught the younger girl looking, Kim lifted an eyebrow and nodded significantly toward the door.
"Welcome to Starbucks!" Violet and Kari said in unison.
This time, they both chirped. Well. Kari chirped. Violet modulated from groan to uncertain enthusiasm.
This continued for some time, and it got busier. Violet preferred it busy. For one, it made time go faster. She wasn't here because it was fun.
Helen Parr had insisted that her daughter get a summer job for the money and for appearance's sake. Who could question a rising senior in high school spending her summer earning money at a Starbucks? They had great benefits, and a seventeen-year-old with no outstanding talents and no ambition would be grateful for 7.75 an hour!
As to appearances, Helen had put it this way: They were good at working around their employees' schedules. They weren't going to ask what kind of 'summer classes' Violet spent most of her time on. And if she called in with an emergency, well, she had two younger brothers to take care of and parents who worked the most bizarre hours – it's not like Kim could say no! Besides, there were more employees than there were time slots; if Violet wanted to give up some of her hours, no one was going to complain.
Violet preferred it busy because it was boring. It was boring busy, but it was excruciating when it was slow. She didn't like people much, and she hated having to pretend to be cheerful – at least she could wear all black under the green apron – but in the end, it was nothing compared to dodging bullets, fighting hand-to-hand, going invisible, and protecting her family from sundry flying projectiles.
She was a super, and this job sucked.
Violet had a flash of understanding in the middle of putting in a new filter of coffee for the brew of the day. That's why Dad was sneaking out, listening to the police scanner with Lucius, Violet thought, recalling that half-year about two years ago when her father, Robert Parr – known to most as Mr. Incredible – started acting very strangely. It wasn't just because he wanted to fight crime. He was bored out of his mind!
"Hi, welcome… to Starbucks," Kari said from behind Violet. Violet's brow wrinkled. That was most decidedly not a chirp. In fact, Kari had sounded hesitant, almost… scared?
"Kari?" Violet asked, absently pressing the brew button with her thumb as she turned to face the door. "You okay?"
There stood her friend, pale under her freckles, her shoulders tucked up around her ears.
And there, across the counter, on crutches and wearing a high-tech-looking air cast on his left leg, stood one annoyed, red-headed, blue-eyed, very much alive Buddy Pine. His eyes widened when he saw Violet.
And he smiled.