Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me (although their alter egos do). I'm just having some fun with them. Please don't sue; I have nothing of monetary value to offer.
A/N: Kind of a prequel to "The One Where They're All Randomly Superheroes", in which you'll see the conversation that led The Kilobyte Kid to accuse Recall of fraternizing with the enemy.
As always, your feedback/story alerts kind of make my day. So don't be shy! ;)
"I'm losing him!" Recall grunted out the words against the front slip of her cowl as she hefted herself over a chain-link fence and hoofed it after the maddeningly quick-footed man they were chasing. Her boots shattered the tranquillity of the puddles that dotted the alleyway, sending small streams of water out to die as droplets against the cement. "Where the hell are you?"
"Uh, hello? Still trying to figure out why the Debilitater Chip I stuck him with isn't zapping his neurons to within a millimetre of consciousness." The irritated voice of The Kilobyte Kid rang in her ear with only the slightest tinge of distortion and beneath her cowl Recall rolled her eyes. She skidded to an almost stop against the slick pavement and made a last-second direction change when she spotted bright orange hair disappearing around the side of a nearby building. "If I can just get it to…." And then her voice was gone, speech forgone in the way of technological drama. Recall groped blindly for the slightly raised spot at the wrist of her left glove and she pressed the small button, effectively cutting off her verbal connection for the moment. Heavy boots pounding against the pavement, she darted between the parked cars that lined the night-darkened side street and ignored the burn in her legs as they protested against her quickened pace. Brian Mulroney was a wanted felon. He'd been arrested on five separate accounts of armed robbery and one of GBH after a security guard at the bank he'd held hostage tried to take him down, and yet somehow the jury overseeing his case had found him innocent. Despite the security camera footage and eyewitness testimonies, Brian Mulroney had managed to get off scot-free. They'd smelled the scent of an artifact even before they'd gotten the ping and The Watcher already had a hunch as to what the artifact in question was.
"Johnnie Cochran's glasses." Myka glanced over from where she was fitting her chest plate with Pete's help.
"As in the lawyer?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow. Artie opened his mouth to answer.
"Like O.J.'s lawyer?" Pete interrupted, voice filled with an odd kind of awe. As if he'd just remembered the awesome thing he did for a living. "That is so awesome. Man, I wish I was coming with you guys tonight." Myka smiled fondly at him, reaching out to poke lightly at his ribs and letting loose a chuckle when he winced and whined aloud.
"You need recoup time, dude." Claudia threw in from her position across the room from them. She was sitting on the arm of the couch that stood as a kind of divider between the kitchen and the television area of their team's floor, glancing at their forms that were silhouetted against the large, bulletproof windows. "You're no use to anyone if a gentle breeze drifting by your ribs has you doubling over in agony." For a second, Pete looked like he was going to argue, but his face suddenly slackened.
"I'm getting a vibe." He said, lifting his hands from Myka's outfit to touch the fingers of his right hand to his temple.
"What does it feel like?" Myka asked and Pete wrinkled his nose.
"Ookey. Greasy." He slapped his lips nosily. "Like British fish and chips."
"Excellent." Claudia said dryly as she pulled on a glove and snapped her fingers to check the connection. Energy flared, sparks of gold and purple, and she smiled in satisfaction. "Maybe we'll find him at that seafood place on fifth that you love. You know, the one that's riddled with salmonella?" Pete bit his lip, throwing her a stern look and pointing a finger warningly in her direction.
"Hey. They didn't find enough evidence to close the place down and that to me says 'welcome back to all you can eat popcorn shrimp Tuesdays.'" Myka jerked her head back to look at Pete who was fiddling with the strap on her chest plate and made a face at him. "Oh don't you judge me."
"If you're all quite finished." Artie interrupted brusquely, slapping a file down onto the kitchen counter with enough force to make it sound like a gunshot. "Johnnie Cochran's glasses." He repeated, and like most chastised children, this time they listened.
Recall was almost a blur as she ran by the few people who were out roaming the street at this hour, but they rubber-necked the super-streak regardless. It was still not entirely commonplace to see a veritable superhero running through the streets of the city and sometimes she wondered if they'd find it less strange to see her swinging from a web or something.
Finally, she turned into the alleyway alongside the city's library building that she knew was a dead end and cracked a wide smile when she saw Brian Mulroney illuminated by a wall mounted street lamp at the end of it. He was looking around frantically, desperately searching for an escape. One two second survey of the area later told Recall that there wasn't one, just her at the end of the alley and the night sky above them.
"Okay," she began, reaching for the Tesla she had holstered in her belt and drawing it. "You've got two options. You can either coming willingly," she grasped the butt of the gun in both hands, "or you can come unconsciously and smelling kind of like bacon." His wide blue eyes blinked at her and his movements were jerky with anxiety as he moved from foot to foot. That was when she noticed he wasn't wearing the glasses. Maybe he'd been nervous about breaking them? Whatever the reason, it was going to make her job a lot easier. "Hand over the glasses, Brian." He shook his head, broad shoulders shifting as he reached for something beneath his jacket. "Freeze!" She yelled, flexing her trigger finger but not yet adding pressure.
An odd sound filled the alleyway then; a kind of whirring whoosh. It sailed down from the rooftops overhead and seemed to pluck Brian Mulroney right out of existence. The only lead she had on which direction he'd been taken in was his startled scream and the sound of a gun being fired impulsively. The bullet sank into the cement a few feet away from her and Recall jerked her head upwards to follow the rapidly receding form of the man she'd been about to Tesla. Or be shot by. Mouth working, she stood there for a minute as she tried to comprehend what exactly had just happened. He'd been there, right in front of her, seconds ago. Then the sound, something had grabbed him, and now he was gone. Fumbling for the button at her wrist that would open a connection to The Kilobyte Kid, she lifted the slip at the front of her cowl higher to make sure the receiver was close to her mouth.
"Claude?" She whispered, eyes darting around the apparently empty alleyway. "You didn't just… invent some kind of bungee device and use it to skydive off the roof of the library building in order to capture Mulroney, did you?" Silence rang in her ears for a moment.
"Nooooo." The Kid drew out the word and Recall could picture her face; eyebrows raised, looking at her like she'd taken a shot of crazy with her orange juice that morning.
"Didn't think so." She sighed, striding towards the side of the building and staring up at the ladder that served as an emergency exit. "Okay, guess I'm going up then." She paused and then said, "Claude? Remind me that we need to look into a jetpack or something."
"Making a mental note of coolness that will not be forgotten." The redhead chirped. "Now just hang tight. I think I've almost got this bug worked out." Recall pressed the button at her wrist again, sure that the younger woman would chime in when she got things figured out. Holstering her Tesla again, Myka reached up and pulled on the bottom rung of the ladder, releasing it from its safety catch and lowering the bottom half to its full length. She pulled herself up with little effort and began the steady climb. The building wasn't overly tall, five storeys, and her feet worked against the cylindrical rungs to propel her upwards.
Nearing the top, Recall slowed her pace, peering over the edge of the low wall that surrounded the perimeter of the roof. It was dark, almost too dark to see anything, but she could make out the shape of the small structure that housed the stairs for the roof access. The rest of the building top was empty, or so it appeared. Her movements slow and calculated, Recall slid onto the roof with the grace of a cat, long legs bending into a crouch as her feet found purchase on the gravelled roof. The jagged pebbles crunched beneath her weight and she cringed at the sound it made, but remained as still as the sky above her. Her eyes swept over every shadow, corner to corner, before finally coming to rest on the small building. Suddenly, there was movement, and she was up. Unable to clearly make out what was going on, it looked as if Brian Mulroney had stepped out of his hiding place to fall flat on his face. Gravel crunched again and inwardly she winced at the phantom feeling of pointed rubble biting into flesh. Drawing her Tesla once more, she inched closer, aiming the gun down toward the fallen man. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light and as she neared him, the ropes that bound him became visible. She stopped short, startled by the unexpected sight of the bound and gagged man, and allowed her arms to drop slightly.
"What the…." Her whispered sentence trailed off as a shadow in her periphery caught her attention. Shifting her gaze, Recall pulled her aim up, setting her sights upon the form that was leisurely strolling around the side of the stairwell.
"Agent Bering," her heart rate spiked and her grip on her Tesla slackened unexpectedly, "fancy meeting you here." The suggestion of laughter hung about the words and she knew that if she were able to see the other woman's face, it would be brightened by a smile.
"H.G.?" She asked hesitantly, not entirely sure why she'd voiced the woman's name as a question; she knew it was her. There was no mistaking the accent, the drawl.
"In the flesh." The other woman's tone was teasing as she walked forward, pace slow. The moon flickered to life, freed from the shadows of the clouds, and bathed the rooftop in its soft light. The Artificer stood before Recall, a gentle smile tugging at her lips and holding some kind of contraption that looked somewhat like an oversized handgun. The shining brass of the goggles obscuring the topmost part of her face glinted in the pale light, and as she drew closer she brought a hand up to lift them from her face, perching them atop her head. Green eyes followed every movement, and Recall eventually remembered the gun-like object The Artificer held in her other hand. Seeing the change in attention, H.G. lifted it, careful to point it up and away from the woman before her. "Fear not, it's no longer loaded." She assured the agent, inclining her head towards the downed man behind her. "And was indeed what I used to capture your crook. A crook that is now most definitely unconscious, should you be wondering." A heavy boot jutted out, an ever persistent need to double-check prompting Recall to nudge the fallen man's shoulder. When he didn't move, she brought her attention up and stared at the veritable vigilante standing opposite her.
"You stole my mark." Recall accused, voice betraying the agitation she felt. H.G. smiled wryly at her.
"I'm rather inclined to think I saved your life." She pointed out, reaching into the waistband of her trousers and procuring the gun Brian Mulroney had fired. It was handed to Recall butt first and the Warehouse agent grasped it, blinking dumbly and caught somewhere between wanting to admonish the woman before her and profess words of gratitude. "Though you are of course free to see it however you wish. I only hope you shan't hold it against me." Her British drawl was teasing.
"How long have you been tailing me?" The Artificer's smile widened at the question, turning into a mischievous grin as she pointedly ignored it.
"Darling, while the cowl irrefutably creates a rather seductive and enigmatic visage, it does hinder your ability to speak." An elegant eyebrow rose archly. "Won't you remove it so that you may speak unencumbered?" Recall stared at the woman standing across from her. The woman who'd basically just asked her to unmask herself in public. Every second of remembered training told her that under no circumstances was she ever to reveal her face where watchful eyes could catch sight of her. That removing ones mask was akin to setting fire to the entire Warehouse institute. Their real identities were as dangerous as the artifacts and criminals they hunted down, and their release unto the world would bring nothing but doom. But she wasn't unveiling herself to the world. It was just H.G. And it wasn't as if it would be the first time The Artificer would see the woman behind Recall.
Fingers twitching in the silence, she finally brought her hand up and flicked the clasp that held the hood in place. Then, motions quick lest she change her mind, she pulled the cowl free of her head. Loose curls bounced about her shoulders, settling against the nape of her neck and Myka fisted the hood in her hand, glancing towards H.G. with an odd sense of apprehension.
"Much better." The Artificer smiled her approval and Myka felt her unease wane. "As for my 'tailing you', I would suspect for the better part of the evening. Unless you mean in the grander sense, in which case I'd have to say that I'm inclined to keep that my little secret. After all, I must maintain a certain air of mystery." She chuckled then, her gaze coy and flirtatious as it lingered on Myka's face. Feeling herself redden under the attention, Myka set her eyes to the roof of the building beneath their feet and she gave the unconscious man a thorough onceover. Kneeling beside him, she squeezed a hand between the rope binding him and the edge of his jacket, forcing her way in until she felt the tell-tale shape of a glasses case brush the tips of her gloved fingers. But the ties proved to be too tight for retrieval and she withdrew her hand for the moment.
"How did you get him up here?" She asked, a frown creasing a small line between her brows as she fingered the rope around him. Then, suddenly remembering, her head jerked back up to find H.G. standing beside her, hair falling over her shoulders like a waterfall of black silk as she bent her head to look down at Myka. She was still holding the gun-like contraption in her hand and, pointing a finger towards it, Myka answered her own question. "That." Surging to her feet again, Myka had to take a step back to put enough distance between them so that she could take a good look at the obviously hand-made invention she was now being offered.
"It's a grappling hook gun." H.G. announced as Myka's fingers brushed against hers in the exchange. Glancing up from the gun at the obvious pride in The Artificer's voice, a smile curved across the taller woman's lips.
"Did you make this?" H.G. barked a laugh, tossing her hair back over her shoulder with a flick of her head and then arched an eyebrow, her expression one of thinly veiled superiority that utterly betrayed the size of her ego.
"I invented it." H.G. amended with a smug grin and Myka shook her head, smiling a little bemusedly at the fact that she'd somehow not expected that answer. She turned the gun over in her hands, running her fingers over the smooth metal, openly admiring the simplistic design that had proved to be incredibly efficient in capturing the wayward criminal. She was well aware of The Artificer's talent for inventing, it was something she admired and, in private moments, found herself awed by. Whatever one might think about H.G. Wells, you could not deny her brilliance. The tales talked of time machines and other equally unimaginable feats of intellect, though Myka hadn't yet voiced the questions she'd thought up in regards to them and so they remained as bedtime stories for the moment. "You appear suitably impressed." H.G.'s dulcet tones pulled Myka from her reverie and coaxed a smile from her.
"I am." She admitted, holding the grappler out to the other woman. "But I can't help thinking that you've created things far superior to it since joining the twenty-first century." The Artificer hummed her acknowledgement, sliding her invention back into its resting place on her belt.
"Your assumptions are not incorrect." She teased and lifted a hand to finger the goggles perched atop her head. "Though I do find myself nostalgically clinging to the styles of days passed. There is something so ceaselessly charming about things from the Victorian age." Myka's lips curved into a wry smirk.
"Can't argue with that." H.G. caught her gaze and archly raised an eyebrow; deep brown eyes alight in the darkness. Myka felt herself caught by the intensity of it, like a pull of gravity too strong for her to break free from. Her skin prickled beneath her body armour, a sudden wave of heat licking at her flesh, and Myka had the unexpected sense of something swelling inside her chest. It wasn't the thick, tar-like feeling of fear and it wasn't apprehension or what she suspected one of The Déjà Dude's vibes felt like. It was akin to the kind of uncertainty she'd felt the first time she'd really put her armour to the test and leapt from the top of the Warehouse building. It had been exhilarating and terrifying, but not in a fearful sense. She hadn't been scared, she'd been nervous about what to expect. About the potential. With H.G. standing before her wearing an expression that lingered close to wondering and gazing at her in an intensely soul-searching fashion, Myka felt as though she were freefalling again.
The sound of electricity popping and fizzling loudly caused both women to start, the purple and gold sparks fountaining out and flickering ghostly slivers of light across their faces. Heart hammering in her chest, Myka dropped her attention to the unconscious man at their feet and watched the Debilitater Chip finally crackle to life.
"Ah ha!" The connection between herself and Claudia was unexpectedly reopened from the redhead's end and The Kilobyte Kid's voice, high-pitched with triumph, rang with all the force of Big Ben in her ear. "I got it! Suck it, firewall!" Wincing, Myka reached up to yank the wireless bud out of her ear canal but held it close enough so that she was still able to make out what the other woman was saying. She could practically hear the fist-pumping. Lifting her left arm, Myka hit the button embedded into her gauntlet to open her connection and held her wrist close to her mouth. "Did I get him? I got him, right? He's down?" Myka blew out a breath, lifting her eyes to glance at H.G. through her eyelashes.
"Uh, yeah. Yup. Brian Mulroney is definitely out for the count." H.G. steadied her with a knowing grin and Myka found herself having to look away. She turned, making her way between the prone form of the man and the stairwell building.
"And that is how you remotely overload someone's synaptic nervous system like a boss." Claudia chirped, gloatingly, and Myka chuckled, endlessly endeared by the younger woman's excitement over her own inventions. "You can tag him okay on your lonesome?" Resisting the urge to clear her throat and stutter her way awkwardly through an answer, Myka found herself nodding even though Claudia couldn't see her.
"Yeah, I'm good. By myself." She flushed, lightly. "Not a problem." Claudia signed off and Myka slid her thumb against the button at her wrist once more, breaking the link. The distinct sound of a tongue clicking brought her attention up and she watched H.G. saunter towards her. All svelte elegance and assured movements, an unyielding confidence that shifted her muscles with a fluid grace; a river flowing with an unbreakable steadiness, despite the obstacles that might be placed in its path.
"Fibbing to your teammates." H.G. chastised with a playfully reprimanding glower. "Tut-tut, Agent Bering." Green eyes rolled and Myka slumped against the wall behind her.
"Well what was I supposed to say? 'Actually Claude, The Artificer beat you to it. Oh yeah, she's here right now, hold on while I pass you over so you two can catch up'?" H.G. smiled ruefully, humming her vacillation out loud. And then suddenly, Myka found her vision entirely obscured by pale skin and eyes as dark and endless as the night sky, stars glimmering within them. Her breath caught in her throat, a quiet gasp escaping to fill the silence of the night, and H.G.'s lips curved into a suggestive smirk.
"I'm to be your little secret then?" She asked and Myka felt her heart being to pound anew, heat flaring along the back of her neck as The Artificer pressed a hand against the wall beside her head and rested her weight against it, leaning into Myka. "For you to keep all to yourself." Swallowing convulsively, the taller woman wondered how it was possible that she felt as though H.G. was looming over her. "Dreadfully sneaky, don't you think?" And even though she was aware that she was being asked a question, Myka couldn't remember how to form words in order to answer as she pressed herself flush against the side of the building. She fleetingly deliberated over whether or not H.G. might have developed some kind of disarming amplifier that allowed her to render a person immobile through nothing more than close proximity before finding the idea ridiculous.
"Necessary." She was finally able to blurt, disjointedly, fingers absently running over the coarsely pebbled surface at her back.
"Quite." H.G. agreed, her gentle laughter ghosting across Myka's face. "I do not doubt you have you reasons for maintaining an air of secrecy. Though I must admit I find them curious." The Artificer dropped her gaze and Myka fought the urge to gasp again and yank her hand away when she felt H.G. lightly grip her wrist, instead settling for pulling her lower lip between her teeth. Lifting it between them, H.G. ran her thumb around the area she'd seen Myka fingering and felt the miniscule numb bubble beneath it. "You could so easily have notified your friend of my presence. A warning might have lessened any of her potential shock." Myka furrowed her brow, working her tongue around the inside of her suddenly dry mouth in an attempt to shape speech. Seeming to sense her trouble, and take an unabashed joy in it, H.G. leaned in closer to enlighten her, her words stroking the shell of Myka's ear. "It would appear as though we're being watched." Myka's eyes snapped open, the fact that they'd closed would be something she would not dwell upon until later, and immediately went to searching their surroundings. H.G. pulled back from her with a chuckle, removing herself completely from Myka's personal space and letting the cool air of separation slip back in to fill the void. "And that is a knowledge that leads me to think that perhaps this is the ideal time for me to bid you goodnight." Boots crunching against the gravel, Myka could only watch in a kind of stunned immobility as H.G. retreated from her. She pulled her goggles back down over her eyes and unclipped the grappling hook from her belt. "I hope the rest of your evening is as fine as you, Agent Bering." The thudding sound of someone's boots hitting the pebbled roof sounded close by and Myka's head snapped to the right to find the illuminated figure of The Kilobyte Kid standing a few feet away. But her attention was pulled back and she unashamedly sought out The Artificer and caught her form soaring up towards the heavens, eventually disappearing over the top of a nearby building. The light from The Kid's visor shut off as Claudia raised it and Myka swallowed hard as fiery brown eyes locked with her own. Crossing her arms petulantly before her chest, the younger woman strode forward wearing an expression of disbelief.
"What the hell was that?" And Myka sighed.
Because how was she supposed to provide some kind of clarifying light for Claudia when she herself was still firmly enveloped in darkness?