Trickster decided to use this as an opportunity to drink underage, the heartless bastard.

"Oh, come on!" he said to the poor bartender, "It's been a really hard week."

The bartender had grown jaded at this point to the Rogues. They were treated like every other customer who dared walk into the Keystone Saloon. But, if they had no ID...

"James, I said no. You can have a soda, but until you turn 21, it's Rogue policy for no underage drinking, and you know it. I'm not going to get on Len's bad side." Yeah, this bartender sure liked to hear himself talk. He was a blonde, somewhat attractive, and worked weekend mornings, usually. He said he had a couple other jobs.

I decided to step in, in any case. The bartender may as well have known then, and I needed to say it, "Rogue policy's out the window. Leonard disbanded us last night."

"Wha- really?"

And James thought I was defending his case, "You see? You can give me a drink!"

"You still need ID," I pointed out.

"I have seven. All are twenty-one-plus." I suppose I walked into that one.

"It's still unhealthy."

"Why'd he disband?" I suppose the bartender was worried about his career, if us Rogues stopped coming here.

I looked at Trickster for a little bit, to see how he was coping. The juvenile anger he had made his shell into was chipped away, and he was serious.

We both remembered walking into that warehouse, the Golden Glider frozen by the chump she was using to get back at Cold for whatever fight they'd gotten into. Needless to say, Leonard Snart the ice-heart said nothing to us. Not until he got back to base and yelled at us for a while. And then, he disbanded the Rogues. It went too far that time.

"Lisa was killed," I finally told the bartender.

He got a funny look on his face. I suppose he must've met Lisa before, the way his heart slowed. "Oh." he said. All he could say.

The front door to the saloon jingled. The man with the red hood and the black biker jacket walked in.

"Well, there's an old sight," I said. No kidding.

"Hartley. James." Red Hood was curt as ever. He took a seat at the bar, to my left.

Trickster was a little less jaded, as usual, "Red? Haven't seen you since the Not-So-Secret Six disbanded."

Red Hood asked the bartender for water, then explained, "Yeah, that's what I'm here about."

Now, there's a tricky subject to talk about. The saloon was empty except for the three of us, but I still had to be careful about my wording if I was to talk of the Light in public, "Hm. Is that-one-group coerce-"

"No, no," he said quickly. His heart didn't change its pace, so my fears were settled. In any case, the Light wasn't holding anything over his head this time. Hopefully, that meant they wouldn't be threatening the rest of us.

"Don't tell me you're thinking of starting it up again?" said Trickster, right on the nose. Kid may be childish, but he can read intentions like no other. Probably comes with the whole lying-about-everything territory.

The bartender handed Red Hood a water, and he continued, "Yes, I am. You got anything better to do?"

Oh, this jerk had heard about it. I looked at Trickster, and he shrugged. I guess he didn't mind getting the band back together, and I could use the support in this game. "I suppose we don't."

Red Hood stood up. He never liked to hang around and just banter. Whatever. "Great, I'll see you at the old HQ."

Smarmy bastard. Not like the Rogues are any less cordial, but at least when they're insulting you, you can tell they care.

"So, uh..." said the bartender, totally confused, "Which Rogue was that?"

Idiot.

Father was going through brawler techniques again. If I fought like a brawler, he'd probably just cry. However, most people in the business are brawlers, and it's only when you're going up against someone like the Bats that technique truly matters.

Not that it mattered, I still couldn't land a hit. I extended my leg out fully at his face, and he dodged before I could recoil it. He grabbed it and twisted it, flipping me onto the mat again. It didn't hurt to someone like me, it was just getting annoying.

He helped me up, "Your form was good, Scandal, but you need to work on your agility." he began to lecture. "Don't worry so much about building up strength."

"But father, I have the capability for that kind of strength."

"No. With women, speed and agility are key in combat." Well. I suppose I should be lucky I was able to wear him down on that issue enough for combat training in the first place. I suppose I couldn't expect much social liberalism from a father born when dinosaurs walked the Earth.

Maybe I was exaggerating a little, but it still cut deep when he'd play the sex card like that.

Before I could take the bait and get into an argument with my father, the man with the red hood and the black biker jacket walked into our gym, escorted by one of father's servants. A figure from a time where making my father proud was the only important thing in my life. Still, he was a good leader.

"Father, I'll need to take this."

"Well... Ok. I suppose this is more important." He was probably thinking more along the lines of the next heir to the Savage dynasty than my social life. Whatever.

Red Hood and I went downstairs to the parlor room. Thankfully, I didn't see any of father's servants listening in, but I doubt there weren't any.

"What's this about, Red?"

"I'm starting up the Secret Six again." Well, now. I suppose the emphasis there was on the "I'm."

"Not the Light?"

"No. The Light won't be involved in any of it, I promise."

"Hm."

"Well, is there anything you'd rather be doing?"

"No. I can be in."

"Good. Come to the old HQ as soon as you can." Translation: As soon as you can get Vandal and the rest of the Light from following you there.

Red Hood left shortly after. The rest of my summer didn't seem so bad after all.

Lights and a crowd. These elements of the classic bank robbery were often overlooked, or avoided by other supervillains. But not by me. That's not how the Fearsome Five rolled.

Of course, it would be much better if I had had the Fearsome Five at my back instead of the lman with the red hood and the black biker jacket. Good luck had never been my thing.

We were in a fight with Animal Man then. Well, more like retreating while Red Hood gabbed in my ear.

"So, Jinx."

"Yeah?" I said, throwing down some magic at Animal Man's feet. It cracked the pavement, got his foot stuck in it.

He used the powers of a snake or whatever to slither out, but it bought us another ten second lead. "I've been thinking of starting up the Secret Six again."

"I was wondering why you joined in last minute."

"Well," he said, shooting at Animal Man's legs. Cripes, aim at the chest, man, "It was either this or talk to you when you were behind bars."

"Wow. Not much faith in your old teammate, huh?"

"Not much faith in a Jinx without friends to support her. So what do you say?"

I chose this moment to use the oft overlooked elements of the classic bank robbery. I zapped a light pole and it started falling towards a crowd. Animal Man had to stop to save them, and we were able to go down into the sewers, no sweat.

You'd think a gal all dressed up in pink and purple would use sewers as a last resort. But in this life, sewer-stink was a preferable option.

"Yeah," I said, "I could use the money."

Oh, he had no idea how much I needed it.