A/N: OKAY so despite being a longtime Disney fan, I would never have anticipated writing fic for a Pixar couple but here we are. I know I'm not the only one who got major Sapphic vibes from Evelyn in The Incredibles 2, and while I don't think I have it in me to write more than a oneshot, this idea of an AU where she and Helen had met before wouldn't leave me alone. Thanks to the #SapphicSeptember challenge on tumblr, I cranked this one out.

Someone disposable. Something harmless. Nothing that would call too much attention to her or her plans.

The paper boy looked like he might've been walking around wearing kooky glasses he'd sent away for, courtesy of a comic book ad. It took him less than ten minutes to walk to the drugstore, steal a box of Good & Plenty, and return to Evelyn's new apartment. When he knocked on the door to give them to her, she took the glasses along with the candy and sent him on his way.

This was her tenth successful venture with hypnosis. She hadn't wanted to get her hopes up the first few times, sure that a mistake had to be coming, but it was all going like clockwork now. Vengeance was finally within her grasp, if not in the immediate future. Evelyn chuckled at her own genius, throwing herself onto her bed. Now it was time to formulate. She should've had more faith in her own abilities; it hadn't occurred to her to start planning this far ahead because she hadn't been sure the mind control would really work. But it did. And now she could make those damn skippy Supers pay.

At times during her experimenting, a doubtful voice would prick its way into her mind to tell her she was crazy for thinking her plans could work. Now the voice was going at her a different way, attacking a far more sensitive spot:

You know what you could do with this, don't you?

Yes, obviously. End Supers for good.

Or…you could take back the worst mistake you ever made. You could bring her back, and make sure she never left you again. Make her yours, forever, and you could make her give up the superhero act, too…

Evelyn sat up. Goosebumps were prickling her skin as she thought back to her first encounter with Helen Parr–well, Helen Truax back then…

New Year's Eve, 1955.

It had been Winston's idea to host a party while their parents were out of town. Not that the Deavors' would've minded some kind of soiree, but Evelyn was sure he felt freer to be more loud and obnoxious in their absence. As far as Evelyn was concerned, there was far too much pressure to enjoy oneself on that holiday, and if she had her way she'd have just stayed in her bedroom all night long. She just wanted to be alone, but the sounds of the raucous party downstairs made that difficult. Going out was another option, but she doubted she'd be able to find a place where she could be left alone.

It was around 11:00 when she thought it might be quieter outside, at least. She made her way to the second story balcony, a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other. She took a drag on the cigarette; it was much more peaceful out here. Music was still wafting her way but at least she couldn't hear the partygoers.

At least, not until–

"Phew! Mind if I join you out here for a sec?"

Evelyn turned to say she minded very much, but then she saw who the drawl belonged to and fell suddenly mute. The girl sauntered towards her in red slacks and a silver top, wearing a dazzling yet unassuming smile. She sat herself down next to Evelyn, mimicking her posture: legs dangling between the bars of the rail, leaning back and resting her weight on her palms. Evelyn was aware that she was staring and felt her heartbeat starting to race, but she couldn't will herself to look away.

"You're Win's sister, aren't you?"

Lord have mercy, at least she could still speak: "How'd you know that?"

"Oh, he's very fond of you, y'know," the girl said. "Also, your picture's up all over the house. Your folks must be fond of you, too."

"How do you know Winston?"

"Let's call him a fan. I mean, a friend. I'm Helen."

Evelyn raised an eyebrow but decided not to push it. "Helen…hello. I'm Evelyn. Um, happy New Year's."

"Same to you! So, what's got you out here instead of dancing the night away with all the other cool cats at this party, huh?"

At this, Evelyn scoffed and could finally look away. "Did Winston send you up here to get me?"

Helen sounded genuinely surprised. "What? No! Truth be told, I needed some space myself. It was gettin' too crowded down there for my taste and I needed a breath of fresh air. This is quite a place your folks have got! I didn't see this balcony was occupied until I opened the doors. And now I'm sitting here and I'm thinking, what's a pretty girl like you doin' all on your lonesome up here?"

For the life of her, Evelyn could not remember the last time she had blushed- or, for that matter, the last time someone had called her pretty. She'd been told her hair wasn't short or cute enough for a pixie cut, and that it made her look mannish. Her mother severely disapproved not only of the hair but of her taste in clothes, which was none too feminine, and which Mrs. Deavor strongly suspected was one of the reasons Evelyn had graduated with an MRS degree.

"Mom, I know your heart is in the right place but Smith is a women's college!"

"I know that, I know, but there are some courses open to students from other schools nearby, some of which do in fact allow men to register! Please, dear, just keep an open mind."

"Oh, trust me, my mind's plenty open already."

Helen's voice drew her out of her reverie. "Evelyn? Hey, anyone home?"

"Yeah, sorry, um… yeah. Winston's much more of the social type than me. Throwing the party was his idea, and I'm not enough of a killjoy to have stopped him. Although trust me, it was tempting." She nodded at Helen. "What's your deal, square? You a party girl?"

Helen laughed, and Evelyn hated that she had been cursed with the propensity to fall in love and fall hard at the drop of a hat. "Square? You think I'm square? Check out that hog down there."

The lights from mansion's windows shone bright on a line of partygoers' cars, and Evelyn followed Helen's gaze to a motorcycle sandwiched between two Buicks. "The Indian?"

"Fire Arrow, newest model."

"Is it your boyfriend's?"

"Ha! Now I'm starting to think that you're trying to insult me!" Helen chuckled, and Evelyn grinned. "The bike is mine, and incidentally, I'm flying solo these days."

Evelyn gasped for dramatic effect, but her surprise was genuine. "Well! What's a pretty girl like you doing single?"

The response was another airy laugh, but Evelyn was watching closely for the smallest signs of betrayal - hollowness, tenseness, a brief widening of the eyes that would indicate Helen had been asked this a lot and was tired of hearing about it. Maybe Evelyn was projecting, but she could swear she saw her own tiredness reflected in Helen's lovely face.

"Listen, you find a guy who wouldn't mind taking the backseat on my bike and maybe then we'll talk."

Evelyn scoffed and mashed the cigarette on the balcony. She wasn't drunk, but she'd had enough of the whiskey to get brave - reckless, in someone else's words - and she had talked her way out of enough scrapes barking up the wrong tree that she felt it was time to throw caution to the winds again.

"I leave finding guys to other women. It's not something I care to take up my time with." She took a sip of the whiskey, emboldened by the way Helen was looking at her. "If you're interested in finding someone to ride behind you, though, I could maybe think of someone."

Helen drummed her fingers for a moment before inching them closer to Evelyn's hand. "Ever ridden a motorcycle before?"

"Mm-mm. Always thought it looked neat, but learning to ride a car seemed easier." She sighed and took another sip for bravery. "That's human nature, I guess. Bet you get a more satisfying ride on that bike than you would a car, huh?"

"Oh, top quality," Helen said fervently.

"Now see, that's the trouble with most people. We choose ease over quality. I did that for years before I…" Evelyn paused when Helen's hand covered her own. "Before I had a particularly persuasive roommate who made me realize life is supposed to be the other way around. The good stuff is sometimes the hardest to get. You know what I mean?"

Helen nodded. "I've never been a girl for taking the easy way out. Whaddya say, Evelyn? Wanna ditch this party and go for a ride?"

She moved to stand up at once, her legs weak. "God, yes."

They made their way back downstairs, where Evelyn's main goal was to avoid being seen by her brother. Fortunately the party had gotten crowded and rowdy enough that it was very easy to avoid being detected. Evelyn ducked outside while Helen went to track down her jacket.

But it seemed Evelyn hadn't gone quite as unnoticed as she'd hoped. She was zipping up her own jacket when she heard a young man from the party call out to her. He'd followed her down the front steps, probably intoxicated, and not at all deterred by the look of disgust on her face. He stumbled over to her, putting a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, baby, you gonna ditch the Deavors' already?"

"Buddy, I'm giving you to the count of three to take your hands off me. One, two…"

"Aw, c'mon, be a good sport, honey!"

He'd been warned. Evelyn whipped a lighter from her pocket- but instead of igniting a flame, it sent an electrical zap through the man as soon as it made contact with his arm. The mild electrocution sent him flailing to the ground, and Evelyn tried not to laugh. The device still needed work, though, if it was to be as thoroughly effective as she wanted: he was still able to get to his feet, shaking his head but ready to go for her again.

All of a sudden a fist came flying out of nowhere, punching the guy square in the jaw. He swung on the spot, trying to grab his bearings, and an arm with stunning elasticity wrapped itself several times around his neck and pulled hard, spinning him like a top back up the steps to the open front door. And there was Helen, kicking him over the porch railing where he lay sprawled out in a small pool of his own vomit.

"Are you okay?" Helen asked, hurrying over.

Evelyn felt winded. "Christ! Y-you're–but–"

"I know! Doesn't it look cute in these slacks?" Helen asked, twisting around, but that did little to change Evelyn's stunned expression. The jig was up. "Yeah," she whispered. "I"m a Super. Your brother invited a few of us to the party; I hope that's all right. You looked like you were ready to handle that guy all right yourself, maybe I should've left you to it! What's that gizmo, anyhow?"

It took a moment for Evelyn to regain her powers of speech. "Oh, well, it still has a few kinks to work out, I guess. I call it the Zippo Zapper. Made it myself."

"You made that?"

"Wow, did I really impress Elastigirl?"

"Don't get too cocky, I'm easily impressed. I'm still amazed by the concept of an electric mixer."

It felt good to laugh. "Well, I'm amazed that there's a superhero here who didn't show up in costume."

"Eh." Helen shrugged. "Making a scene just for the sake of it isn't, well, my scene. Truth be told, I think your brother and your folks are a little too bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when it comes to Supers, but I suppose …well, never mind. I'm flattered by the attention but I don't do superhero work to get fans."

"Why do you do it, then?"

Helen slipped into her leather jacket and started walking towards her motorcycle. "Because I want to help people! I want to do good with the powers that I have. Y'know, my mother just about wanted to disown me when I said I was gonna get the mask and the gear and all that to fight crime. Can you beat that?"

"What? Why? Isn't she a Super, too?"

"Nope, but my old man was. Mother figures superhero work is a man's job. Thought I should just find the right guy and settle down." Helen scoffed, straddling the bike. "Settle down, are you kidding? I'm at the top of my game! I'm right up there with the big dogs! Leave the saving of the world to the men? I don't think so!"

Evelyn's form of teenage rebellion had been to distance herself from her parents' worship of superheroes, but by her twenties she'd grown nothing stronger than indifference towards them. But Helen, wow, she was really something else…

She took the few remaining steps to the bike, but didn't climb on just yet. "I may not have superpowers of my own, but I still like to take jobs now and then that are typically prescribed to men."

"Oh? How's that?"

Helen's heart seemed to skip several beats when Evelyn leaned down and kissed her. Evelyn was daring; she took Helen's face in her hands and deepened the kiss. She liked the idea of catching a Super off guard, almost as much as she liked how clearly Helen was into this kiss. Helen's instinct was to break it off so she could stand up and properly take Evelyn in her arms, but the tiny part of her mind that was still cognizant of the world beyond Evelyn's surprisingly soft lips knew that making out in full view of the mansion's windows wasn't the best idea.

"Did you have any… particular idea of where you might like to go?" Helen asked between heavier-than-normal breaths.

Evelyn smirked. "It was your idea to bust out of here. Not mine. Where does Elastigirl like to spend her nights out on the town?"

Helen patted the bike. "We're staying in and going to my place."

That relationship had lasted almost two glorious years. Well, glorious in retrospect, maybe; it was easy to glamorize the past. Evelyn sat up, scowling. That kind of romanticization was Winston's thing, not hers. She and Helen had had their fair share of arguments, which had ultimately led to Evelyn breaking things off because she couldn't take the stress of dating a Super. They'd had a shaky reconciliation as friends that had weakened enormously when the Deavors died, and Evelyn had become a recluse.

And now here she was, primed to tell Winston they could get going on their plan to get Supers out in the open again… all so she could ensure they stayed buried forever. But part of her wanted so badly, so desperately, to use her newfound gadgetry for something that might've been even worse.

You know the last time you were happy? With her. You can have that again. Put some goggles on Helen and she'll be and do anything you say. None of the superhero drama, just the two of you, all the time… it'd be so easy.

Easy.

The word reached out and hit her like a slap to the face. Scary easy, but no quality. Nothing that really mattered.

Taking Supers down forever was going to be hard enough, and dodgy enough, too, but at least it served the greater good. At least she could tell herself she was ultimately helping others to become self-reliant by ridding them of these costumed crusaders. Yes, this was a noble goal. Someday history would look back and smile on her for restoring America's can-do spirit and rejecting so-called saviors. Some people might look at her as wicked, but she chose to see it as a necessary evil.

Contrarily, using her device as essentially a high-tech love potion for purely selfish reasons was depraved. She may have hated Helen for what she became, but romantic agency was not something she would ever take from her.

Sure, I might be evil…but even I have standards.