AN: Bit of a shorter chapter, but the next one should be full sized again.
Chapter 4 – Welcome surprises
"Earth to Will, earth calling buddy!"
Huh? I grimaced at the noise. What now?
"Hey! Wake up, I wasn't gone for that long!" the incessant voice shouted… well to my ears at least. I looked at my phone, noting that I'd probably dozed off in the little private study room at the MetU. I cracked an eye open and sent a scowl at the person making the noise.
"I'm here, I'm here. You said you'd be gone for five minutes, and it's been thirty David!"
David, my friend, classmate and the offending object preventing my little nap had to decency to at least look a little sheepish at that. "I know, my bad. There was a line, and then there was this girl. Cute smile and al-"
"David I'm really not interested in whatever pretty face made you late this time. Did you at least get what I asked?" I frowned at him
He's a good guy, good friend even, but he's not really the best guy to do a paper with. Easily distracted by… well anything really, but particularly the opposite sex. Hardly unique, but it wasn't exactly the first time he'd gone for a snack, a toilet break or something else and left me hanging. Still visibly deflated, he sent a sheepish look my way. "I… you know, what with the line and all, lots of customers" My eyes narrowed even further. He'd gone to the cantina to get a snack, and I asked him to bring me a coffee and a piece of whatever fruit they had. Obviously I had overestimated my friend. Watching my annoyed expression start to turn angry, he let out a laugh and pointed at me "You should see yourself buddy! Of course I got it. Least I could do after the delay" He plunked down my coffee and a banana in front of me. Fine, he'd live. This time.
We'd agreed to meet up at the MetU so we could get started on the paper, and divvy up the segments. Both of us worked better without constant oversight, but that didn't mean there was no value in outside input or proper planning.
I reached into my bag, aiming for my laptop when something I touched something pointed. Not hard enough to break skin or anything, but enough for me to know that it certainly wasn't my laptop, nor anything else that was supposed to be in… my… wrong bag. Crap. Rushing out of my apartment so as not to be late (for all the good that did me) I'd grabbed the wrong bag. No laptop, but instead I had one very sharp and point green arrow. I pulled it up, absently twirling it around my finger. Well I couldn't really use this for notes I mused.
"Dude!" David exclaimed, eyes widening and standing up so fast that his chair fell over with a crash.
I started looking around for whatever might have set him off, at the same time doing my best to resist the nascent 'pulling' sensation before something bad happened. "What?! Where?!"
Still standing, he raised his right arm, pointing aggressively in my direction "Arrow!"
Oh. Yeah, I suppose it was a little odd, but damnit he'd almost given me another 'spatial' accident! "Yes! Arrow. Calm down man!"
"Green Arrow!"
"Correct? It's gre- close your mouth David, come on!"
He looked as if I'd grown a second head. Apparently I was missing something. "No Will, not a green arrow, the Green Arrow. The superhero. Star City? Justice League? Ring a bell?"
Okay, obviously the whole powered community wasn't really my thing, and seeing as most supers didn't really do reality tv or morning cartoons, I never really had much cause to look them up, outside of the news. "Uhhh.. The Robin Hood guy with the silly hat?"
"…. He wears a hood these days" David muttered, probably not approving of his previous headwear anymore than I did. But hey, it meant I actually sorta knew who the super was for once. Go team Will!
I looked at the arrow, which was indeed green. "Okay. So what, you think this is one of his?"
"I don't think, I know it's one of his! I've seen a ton of pictures on the forums. They say that he makes them himself – that they're unique"
"Okay, so I've got a special pointy stick. What's your point?"
"My point is, Will,-" he continued, as if speaking to a particularly slow child "-that collectors pay through the nose for stuff like that! I mean stuff like arrows and baterangs are some of the more ordinary objects that you can find, but it should still net a somewhere in the hundreds, if not a full grand!"
Baterangs? What the hell is that even, and who would name something that? "… for an arrow? People seriously pay that much, for what is essentially super garbage?"
"Dude, really? Haven't you seen what people will pay for autographs or napkins and shit from other celebrities?"
Well, like most other people, I guess I had heard about ridiculous sums being exchanged for the basest of objects, as long as a celebrity had touched it. Or blown their nose in it. Yuck. "Huh."
"No kidding 'huh'. Where did you even find it?" David stated flatly, a slightly annoyed expression on his face. I guess this was more within his ballpark than mine.
"Condemned building near my apartment complex. You know, there's a new one each month. Saw something shiny on my way to get groceries a few days ago, picked it up and kinda forgot about it." It was getting a little worrying how easy it was for me to lie. They really did just roll of the tongue. Besides, in this case, the lie was a lot more probable than the truth.
"That's right, you're in the outer area. I guess you do hear about more fights happening out there. I wonder if there is more stuff out there dude, we should go check it out!"
We really shouldn't though. I'd be fairly safe with my ability to move around, but David? In a condemned building that might fall apart at the wrong step? Yeah, no. Besides, if something did happen, my secret would be out. "Scratch that Dave, we are not going into condemned buildings to look for baubles. I'm not throwing my life away for a grand"
Dave looked a little crestfallen, no doubt already imagining adventures and money abounds. "Sure, I mean, I guess it would be dangerous…"
Okay, he didn't seem to get it. I'd been to a couple of those buildings, and there was a reason that they were condemned. "Dude, I know you like super stuff, but-"
"Yeah, yeah, quit harping – you've made your point" David said, aiming a dirty look in my direction. Okay, so maybe he did get it. My bad.
His dirty look didn't last for long though. "… can I see it?"
"Sure, but let's hurry up and get the prep-work done after."
After fanboy-ing over the green arrow for a while, we finally got the actual paper. It honestly didn't take too long. While David's little detour had added to the time, we usually agreed on how to structure our papers, and had a pretty similar process, so our whole 'divide and conquer' approach to group papers was compared to other groups, pretty damn painless.
After packing up our stuff, David sending a jealous look my way when the arrow went back into my bag, we went our separate ways. The shorter guy needed to get his car from the parking garage, still open after the attack, and I… didn't. I had decided to forego my car today, because of reasons. Okay, so I had gotten tired of being stuck in traffic, and navigating through the ever-changing open roads into Metropolis proper and the MetU. Teleporting was, well, a pretty good timesaver. And it let me train with the ability! It was definitely mostly because of the latter part I tried convincing myself. I told David that I had decided to walk today because of the weather and a standard lame excuse about getting in shame. Fortunately it worked almost too well when told to a guy struggling with losing a few pounds himself. It also came with an offer to join the gym he 'frequented', which definitely was not going to happen. Not only didn't I particularly like gyms, but if I went, it sure as hell wouldn't be with a guy like David. We'd never get anything done, and I'd spend half the time waiting for him to finish conversations with whatever random person happened to be near.
So instead of my car, I took to the roofs, my winter half-mask already rolled up from around my neck and the hood up. Sure, it wouldn't stand close scrutiny in broad daylight if someone who knew me got close enough, but the chance of that happening were slim to none.
I'd had an emergency shift at my job at the grocery store that I hadn't been able to wiggle out of without consequences, so now I was stuck outside at nine thirty PM in close to total darkness due to the cloud cover. A sudden wind cut through my light jacket, causing goose bumps to form all over. The pit-patter of the falling rain didn't really help me out either. I really wasn't dressed for this, and guess who decided it would be quicker to just teleport over? This guy, that's who. Guess who couldn't do the same right now because of the rain and darkness? Also this increasingly cold idiot right here. Damnit, there's a reason I wasn't supposed to get all caught up in this whole powered thing, it apparently did make people dumber.
I sighed and tried to find some temporary cover while brining out my phone. I might not like spending the money, but getting sick would be even more expensive, so I called and requested a cab for my current address. I quickly put the phone back in my pocket, not wanting to expose it to any more rain than I had to. I found, that if I literally leaned against the building, then its roof would provide a little protection from the rain – provided the wind didn't change direction at least.
I started zoning out, when a car horn brought me back to reality with a start. I only just managed to keep my balance, if not my dignity, but at this point, my dignity was less a concern than getting into a nice and toasty cab. I waved at the cab, notifying him that I had noticed and was on my way, and proceeded to completely soak my shoes and the bottom of my pant legs when I walked off the sidewalk and into the street… right by the damn storm drain. I think there's a lesson in there about looking before crossing or some such, and I feel like while it wasn't really meant for rain and storm drains, it would probably work out just as well. On the bright side, what's a little more water when your blue jeans have already turned black from the rain? I got in the back of the cab with a wet squish of my shoes on the carpeted cab floor, and a long wet drag mark on the seat. Whoops, my bad. I smiled sheepishly at the cabbie, only then recognizing the middle-aged man behind the wheel. Judging from his cocked eyebrow and his rapidly falling attempt at looking stern, the recognition was mutual.
"Sorry about the water Tomek" I said with a relived smile
"I don't think you control the weather, mm?" he smiled back. "Besides, a little rain is hardly the worst I've had in my cab, and at least you don't smell like burning rubber this time"
Burnin- right. First time I'd got a ride with Tomek, it had been after finding my first car in flames in the middle of a rainstorm. Come to think of it, last time I'd gotten a ride, it had been after my second car had been smashed, and now he was the one to pick me up in a second rainstorm? I'm not sure if that made me or him unlucky.
"Nope, just water this time"
He gave me a big smile filled with crooked yellowing teeth"So you didn't lose a third car since last I had you in my cab?"
"Hah, nope. I just didn't drive here today. Not really my best decision all things considered" Understatement of the year, Will. I was lucky if my phone didn't die on me.
"No kiddin'! Well, I suppose you'll be wanting to go home?"
"That would be appreciated Tomek" I gave him a tired smile
"No problem. Will, was it?"
"Yeah, impressive memory." I mean, he must've had hundreds of customers since the last time he saw me.. and well, the first time I hadn't been in the best of moods.
"Well, you've supplied me with better stories than most of my customers, makes it easy! So tell me, what makes a young man run around in the rain at nine thirty PM?"
Ah. I couldn't really blame him for that. God knows one of the primary ways of keeping your sanity when it came to my current job, was telling stories of funny or terrible customers.
"My job, unfortunately. Had an emergency shift, so I kind of had to drop-" I noticed the words 'prison break' in the middle of my speaking and stopped. Goddamn revolving prisons, I swear it seemed like the supers in prison never lasted more than a few months at most. "Hey Tomek, you mind turning up the volume on the radio?"
"Sure thing" Tomek leaned over a little and started dialing on the knob on the center console, the volume rising drastically in response.
"…. A prison break has occurred no more than thirty minutes ago during transport to Stryker's Island. Though MPD had release no statement as of yet, our own sources are informing us that the transport was carrying infamous criminal Philip 'Barrage' Karnowsky. Karnowsky was recently apprehended by Metropolis' favorite daughter Supergirl, after a violent crime spree resulting in one death, the destruction of a large part of the MetU as well as millions in damages… We're now hearing that one corrections officer was killed on site, and another is in critical condition. We're also hearing that a group known as 'Intergang' is believed to have facilitated Karnowky's escape. Very little is known about the secretive criminal organization, but they seem to have access to advanced technology. We'll update you, our listeners when more information comes in. Till then, keep safe everyone"
I could feel my heart rate start to climb. Philip. Fucking. Karnowsky. The bane of my goddamn existence! He's smashed my car, he'd trashed my university, he'd exposed me to a prototype meta-formula that I still didn't know exactly how affected me, and he'd killed an old cleaning lady. He had just killed again and he was free to continue once again… I…I.."
"…ill…Will… Will!" the cabbie shouted at me
"What!?" I snapped back at him
"Calm yourself! You're going to burst a blood vessel or something… Jeez kid, you know that Barrage guy?"
I tried to take a deep breath, letting go of a little of the anger, before relaxing the muscles in my arms. My knuckles were bone-white and almost cramping from how hard I'd squeezed my soaked jacket. I hadn't even noticed. Okay, calm down. Calm.
"I… know of him. You remember that my car was smashed when you picked me up last time?" Tomek nodded cautiously, probably knowing where I was going with this "Well, he's the guy that smashed it. He's also, as you just heard, the guy who smashed part of my university to pieces."
His expression got a little less tense, but he still seemed a little cautious. I think I deserved that given how I had reacted. Instinctive rage wasn't really how I saw myself.
"Well damn kid. I suppose I can understand why you don't exactly like the guy, but you looked ready to wring someone's neck."
"I'm sorry. It just caught me by surprise" I let out a long, tired sigh "I should've known better, prisons seem to have revolving doors for supers."
He nodded slowly, seemingly thinking something along the same lines "Yeah.. It doesn't really seem like Uncle Sam or the heroes know what to do with them"
I couldn't keep the bitterness from my voice this time "No I suppose they don't. Must be hard to see the consequences from up high"
"You mean the government or the heroes?"
"Both."
We drove in silence for the rest of the trip.
I'd had a few days to calm down. Honestly, the whole situation was a little embarrassing in hindsight. I'd actually made my favorite cabbie nervous (well, only cabbie whose name I knew). I mean rationally I knew why it had happened, surprise being one part, but the other that this was all of a sudden personal. I suppose I was carrying a bit of a grudge, but on the other hand, I knew that this wasn't really my problem to fix. I wouldn't even know how even if I did want to do something. No, let the police handle it, or any of the supers, and just pray there wouldn't be quite as much collateral damage this time around.
I was sitting by my desk trying to ignore the scent of crispier-than-intended toast in the air, when my phone started ringing. I briefly look at the number. Ah, Mr. Sanders from the bookstore. I quickly saved the document I was working on, before swinging my feet up onto the edge of the table, narrowly missing the plate with half-eaten toast on it.
"Hey, Will here." Stupid greeting rituals. Of course it was me, he'd called my phone.
"Will, it's Jim Sanders"
Jim? Never actually knew his first name till now. "Ah, hi Mr. Sanders. What can I help you with?"
"Well, you see, I took your advice and started considering getting a part-timer to help out around here."
Well, I had a pretty good idea where this was heading, but no reason to put the cart before the horse. "Good! I'm sure it'll pay off for you Mr. Sanders"
"That is definitely my hope. Will, if you're willing, I'd like to invite you in for an interview. I realize it must seem a little superfluous, but I prefer being thorough"
Okay so not a straight job offer, but close enough! "Of course sir, I don't mind at all. When do you have in mind?"
I could hear the older man hum a little to himself, while leafing through some papers. Probably a calendar I decided. "Would you mind coming by at twelve PM on Sunday? The shop is closed then, so we can have the interview without any interruptions"
Made sense. Sunday was the only day when the shop wasn't open. I honestly felt a little bad that he was using his only day off for more work. On the bright side, this would actually alleviate that situation a little. "That sounds perfect sir, I'll be there. Do you need me to bring anything?"
"No, no I think we'll be quite alright - unless of course you have something to confess to, hm?" Mr. Sanders remarked with a good-natured laugh.
Ah, there was the Sanders I'd gotten to know a little. "Nothing anyone can prove, sir. I'll be there Sunday at twelve PM."
"Good-" a familiar bell rung in the back ground, and I could hear Mr. Sanders talking to someone in the background, probably a customer or something. Figured that someone would need his help, store wasn't currently closed. "Ah, I'm back Will. So sorry, I have a delivery I need to sign off on. I'll see you Sunday."
"Of course, you go ahead and take of the store, sir." I said with a smile before hanging up. This was exactly why the old man needed a part-timer.
I'll admit, while I had kinda hoped and expected the call, it was a huge relief to actually get it. Sure, the pay probably wasn't anything special, and per his warnings, the hours may not be fantastic either, but working odd hours isn't really a big deal on a university schedule. The most important part was more psychological though. I'd have a job in a place I really liked, and with a boss I respected. I mean, sure the employee prices on books, if it happened, also promised to be pretty damn sweet, but the most important aspect by far, would be not hating the entire time I was actually there. And, uhm… maybe I'd run into Linda a bit more often.
I got up from my chair with a creak of protest from my chair, though I suddenly a bit lighter on my feet. I grabbed the plate from my desk on the way to the kitchen, and threw it into the sink with a clang. I started rummaging around my cupboards and fridge, not leaving the kitchen until I had a small armful of coke, chips and candy. I deserved a treat. I put the stuff down on my table, pushing some textbooks to the side to make room, before unceremoniously plopping down onto the chair. Well, I was close to done with my part of the paper, and David hadn't contacted me for a meet-up, so I figured I earned a little time off.
I opened my browser and started looking around for a place that sold super paraphernalia. It turns out that searching for the combination of 'superhero', 'for sale' and 'items' meant getting suggestions in two different extremes. The first one I had sort of expected such as costumes, belts and so forth for kids. The other one of a decidedly more mature nature, and was almost frighteningly overrepresented. I suppose, I wasn't the only one that appreciated the look of some of the female supers out there. I kind of wondered whether Wonder Woman or Black Canary knew about it. I mean, I figured they should technically receive royalties or license money or something.
I decided to change my search parameters a little bit, and struck gold when found my way to a more professional-looking forum. The forum included guides on and discussions on selling and buying objects from supers, and while it wasn't quite an ebay or amazon, it still had a surprising amount of stuff available, and tabs for different items allegedly belonging to different supers – heroes and villains alike it seemed. Huh, David might actually be on to something. Some of the prices honestly shocked me, and not just for the prices. Select pieces of 'collectibles' sold for more, sure, but the higher rated female superheroes seemed to have a more rapid following, which in turn also meant more competition for their 'collectibles'. The odd part was that pieces of female uniforms went for much more than their male counterparts.
Okay, so there was definitely a fair share of creeps here, wanting to own half-torn female uniforms or even their ruined footwear, but there also seemed to be a more innocent variety of collectors, people who were looking for simpler stuff like the arrow I had found, or different throwing weapons. Hell, some people even bought random junk from the scene of some of the bigger fights – kinda like how some people would pocket a pebble from a mountain or a beech they really liked. Odd, but innocent enough I suppose, and if I could make a quick buck or two, so much the better!
I looked around for a while, noting that there was indeed a market for the arrow I had found, but that it might be better to wait a little while for the demand to go up. Besides, seeing as I didn't immediately need the money, it was probably also the more sensible approach. But if this was really how well some of this sold, then I'd definitely make it a point to scout through some of the condemned buildings I was training my 'porting in. In a way, I'd only be doing the city a favor, I'd be cleaning up after the supers and their reckless fights. Regular pillar of the community type shit!
That actually reminded me, there were several places nearby that would fit the bill, and I didn't really have anything important going on today. I briefly looked at my textbooks before picking up another potato chip and throwing it into my mouth with a smile. Nothing too important at any rate.
Well, despite frequenting some of the sites of battle and condemned buildings, I hadn't found anything too special. Small fragments of clothing was pretty commonplace, and didn't really sell that well – too easy to fake I guess. I did manage to find half of a baterang (again, baterang, really?) which could possibly be sold for a few hundred dollars. While the potential money was welcome, it just wasn't really worth the effort if several afternoons and evenings of training and searching had only yielded half of an item. There was probably an easier way of doing this, especially with my powers, but I'd have to think on that a bit more.
At least I'd managed to quit my current job with very little trouble – I'd even managed to ditch my shifts for the weekend, so I was finally free from the yoke of irrationally angry grocery store customers. I was fairly certain that Mr. Sanders received less verbal abuse in the bookstore, so hopefully that would also be the case for me. If I was hired. I mean, I was totally getting hired, but still!
I started getting dressed for the interview, a little more formal than my everyday clothes, with a button-down and some new black jeans. Hell, I even wore my good shoes and gave myself a fine shave. I know I wasn't exactly wearing a full suit or anything, but then again, I'd never seen Mr. Sanders in that either, and the barista on the second floor usually just wore a t-shirt with an apron over it. I was dressed fine. Wasn't I? I went to my mirror in my bedroom, making sure I hadn't missed a patch of hair on my chin, or that my hair didn't look like a birds nest. No. I was fine. Dress to impress. Or was that for dates? No I wasn't that formal, and Mr. Sanders would probably just make an amused observation if I either over-or under did my outfit. Right. No problem. Already in the bag. Happy thoughts. Oh! I hurried over to my computer, quickly sending David an e-mail with my part of our paper attached - wouldn't do to leave him hanging when I had no clue when I'd be back again. Besides, he'd volunteered to actually put our two documents together, no sense in looking a gift horse in the mouth.
I suppose I was ready, and I should be able to be there a bit ahead of time. I briefly wondered the car needed gas, and then quickly dismissed the idea. I may have been a little… liberal in using my ability to transport myself. At first I was a little paranoid about people looking up, but really as long as I aimed my 'jumps' away from the edge of a building's roof, then no one that wasn't already on the roof would see me. The fact that it was near instantaneous meant anyone up there would only see a dark blur show up before I was another few buildings away, which I decided, made my ability a lot more convenient. Sure, the downside was that I often needed a bit of a breather due to the physical cost before making the last 'jump' but that was mostly if I went as fast as I currently could. Exertion wise it was kinda like jogging in terms of the time spent 'jumping' only covering far more ground, but it was compounded by both distance and how fast I made my consecutive jumps. Honestly, it might impact weight as well, but I hadn't experimented with any added weight outside of a normal bag. I had noted however, that the odd, I don't know what to call it, secondary ability? The instinctive teleporting? Well I noticed that it took a lot more out of me, but it also seemed to be far less limited, most notably in that it didn't seem to give a shit for small stuff like line of sight, or actually having ever been to the target location before. I think I was actually happier not knowing how that part worked.
I walked to the outside parking space where my car was most of the year. Yeah, no fancy underground parking out here, but I suspect that was mostly because the buildings out here were on average far older, so that little convenience hadn't been added back then. But who knew, when the construction was finished on a lot of the old condemned sites, maybe they'd have underground parking.
I kicked at a plastic bag that had snagged my foot on my way to the parking lot. Not the first time that had happened here, and not the last judging from the trash scattered over the broken pavement. When I got to my car I had to actually physically turn the key in the door to get. Beeper was dead, so I'd have to be all retro. Actually, the beeper was already dead when I bought the car, but I'd been in a bit of a rush after losing my first one, so beeper definitely wasn't a big priority. I tried getting comfortable in the seat, my squirming pulling my button down loose from my pants. Damnit. I got the seat belt on, a little more aggressively than I had intended. Of course the seatbelt, snug as it was supposed to be, ended up ruining some of the ironing that had got into the shirt. Double damnit. I stared wistfully at the nearest rooftop, feeling the weird pulling current the more I focused on it. No. Bad. Drive like a normal person! With a sigh I turned the key in the ignition and got onto the road heading towards Metropolis. Maybe I wouldn't even have to detour due to construction or collateral damage. I turned on the radio, figuring that was at least something teleporting didn't have. Then I remembered that I literally had access to millions of songs on my phone. So much for that perk.
At the least the drive and the parking had been uneventful, and lo and behold, no rubble, blinking lights or sirens to navigate around. I was actually in more than good time. Hopefully Mr. Sanders wouldn't mind my stopping by a bit earlier, but a good twenty minutes was probably pushing it. So now that I had fulfilled my self-imposed rule to get here by completely mundane means, I could probably look around the area… from the rooftops. I looked around my car, pawing at the soft fabric of the seat behind me for a bag that wasn't there. Drat. No bag meant no mask or hoodie, which in turn meant no disguise, and no disguise meant no 'jumping' around on rooftops. I mean, it was probably for the best. That's at least what I told myself while trying not to mope a little. Fine! I got out of the car, briefly making sure my button down was safely tucked in my pants again, and then decided to take the long way around to the bookstore.
I was standing in front of the bookstore façade around ten minutes before the interview was supposed to start. Okay, so maybe the long way around hadn't been that long, and long legs meant it was even shorter. I had in fact already been standing outside for at least five minutes trying to look inconspicuous, when the door in front of me opened, the clean-shaven but weathered face of Mr. Sanders peeked out.
"I realize that I said twelve PM Will, and while I applaud punctuality as a character trait, you don't have to stand outside in the wind."
"Of course, sir. Merely enjoying the fresh air" I said with a deliberately unconvincing smile
Mr. Sanders merely shook his head a little in amusement "Yes well, if you're quite done enjoying the weather, I've got some coffee on the heater, and we have an interview to get through"
"Coffee would be nice" I agreed following the older man in, glibly ignoring his little joke on my behalf.
The older man walked at a stiff pace belying his years, expertly navigating the book stands, tables and furniture scattered on the way to the staircase. "I hope you didn't have any trouble getting here" he asked from ahead of me.
"No no, the road was actually completely clear for once, not a fallen building or burst water main in sight" Ah, small-talk to settle my nerves.
"Good good, I know how it can get sometimes. You never can tell, what with some people being able to fly and lift cars these days" Oh? Was that disapproval I heard in his voice. Not on the hero-worship bandwagon then. Good on you Mr. Sanders.
"These days? I suppose things were different here a few decades ago?" I was genuinely curious. My hometown and the area around it had never had cause to attract any permanent supers, but Metropolis was a hotbed for them. It probably hadn't always been that way.
He seemed to ponder my question for a few steps. "Different, yes. Both good and bad though. There was more organized crime back then, much like Gotham now, only less… dire. But it wasn't completely absent of powered individuals, though they were few and far between, nothing like now. And we definitely had no Superman."
With the final creaks of the carpet-covered steps of the staircase, we finally got to the third floor. I looked around, noting that aside from it being empty of customers, he didn't seem to have anything special set up. Ah, the den in the middle then.
We walked around the tables and shelves hiding the den from most the room, and probably the only place where you could get some privacy. Mostly I think he'd let it be designed so larger groups could drink coffee together, or so people could read without someone walking by constantly. The first part was probably a fairly solid idea financially, while the latter was just kind.
Mr. Sanders motioned for me to sit down across from the easy chair he was headed for. I sat down, and leaned forwards so as to be within better reach of the table, but also so I wouldn't look to slovenly. Unfortunately, the motion meant that my button up was once again partially pulled out of my pants. I really, really hate tucking button ups, but culture seemed to dictate it in more formal settings. Blegh.
"Will, or rather, Mr. Putnam, can I offer some coffee before we get started?"
God yes "I'd appreciate it, sir, and by all means, Will is more than fine"
With a nod he started pouring two cups of steaming coffee from a pot on the table, and pushed one cup towards me "There's milk and sugar, feel free to add"
Don't mind if I do. I only added milk though, as sugar tended to ruin coffee instead of adding to it. "Thank you, sir".
Adding nothing to his own cup, he leaned bag in the chair a little, his fingers steepled in front of him. "So Will, I wanted to give you the first shot at the part-time job I'm opening up here. Not only because you suggested the need for one to begin with, but also because of the help that you have provided over the past few weeks. You also showed good initiative in helping out Linda-" at the mention of the cute blonde, a small smirk found a way to his lips, having a little fun at my expense no doubt "with finding her way to the academic section. I also happen to know that you've helped other customers before, and you've definitely been here often enough to know how most of my inventory is organized".
I tried keeping a straight face, but he was kinda stealing all of my talking points! I mean sure, he was technically right, but wasn't I supposed to, you know, be the one 'selling' myself?
"Furthermore, you seem reliable and punctual, and your personal tastes seem to run wider than just comic books or the newest best-seller fiction. Am I missing anything?"
Okay, he wasn't really. And that was kind of a problem. The hell do I say now? "I also make a mean chili?"… I probably should have just kept my mouth shut.
At least Mr. Sanders didn't seem to mind, actually cracking a smile. "Well, you won't have any kitchen duties, but I'll be sure to keep that in mind." His façade finally cracked entirely, chuckling to himself and his smile showing teeth. "I'm sorry Will. The job is yours if you want it. You're over qualified really, but if you don't mind the hours or the pay, then it's definitely yours. I only really needed you here to sign the contract."
I stared at the old man, one eyebrow lifted at his antics. Seems like I'd have to prepare for his special brand of humor. "Well, now that you've had your fun Jim-" I stressed his name while I narrowed of my eyes "I'd like to ask a question or two if you don't mind?"
If he took any offence at my using his first name, he didn't show it whatsoever. "Of course Will, ask away"
"What kind of hours are we talking about? Are there any employee benefits? And what can I expect my hourly pay to be?"
"Ah, those would be pertinent questions, wouldn't they?"
We ended up sitting there for a good hour, and covered most of my questions about pay and so forth, while also getting to know each other a little bit better, and rapidly emptying the pot of coffee. When I finally got home, I was pretty well satisfied with the position. While the hours were fewer, the pay was a bit better, and as I hoped, I'd also be able to save a ton on books, both for classes, but also fiction. Most importantly, I was pretty sure I'd like it there. Not a bad turn of events Will, not bad at all.
