The Captain was involved in no less than four explosions, Al got to stab Superman and Techie...
Techie started a fire.
On accident.
It was nearing the end of February, closing in on the second month of the three women trying to get and keep legitimate jobs, and that was the most exciting thing that had happened to the woman known to a handful of other people as 'Ops'.
Granted, that particular fire had blazed so hot that it had taken three buildings with it, but she considered that to be small potatoes in comparison to stabbing Superman with a pencil.
It really wasn't fair. Al got to do all the fun stuff in Metropolis...
Knocking Big Blue in the head with an iron pipe; pantsing Lex Luthor; stabbing Big Blue with a pencil...
Really, it was enough to make a woman bitter and resentful.
She wasn't...but by God, if Al or the Captain got to have one more adventure without her she'd...she'd...
Well, she wouldn't leave them, but she wouldn't talk to them for a week.
At least now that they were back in Gotham, the chances of having an adventure of her own had increased.
Albeit only slightly, since she was working in a gourmet food emporium and when you think 'Action!' you don't automatically think 'Caviar!'.
Managing to make the cash register she was working behind go berserk for the third time in an hour didn't seem to be indicative of keeping her job in the food service industry for very long, though...
She didn't like that cash register...not one bit. It was an ancient, heavy machine that was so behind in the times it could've been featured in a Doris Day movie, it would not cooperate with her regardless of what she did, it was ugly and worst of all: it was beige.
Any person with a penchant for technology could tell you that no self respecting piece of machinery was beige.
Techie hated it on principle.
And if the thing's poltergeist-esque actions were any sign, the feeling was mutual.
As she bashed on the stubborn old keypad for the fifth time, taking perverse pleasure in the unhealthy dinging noises it made, she wondered how exactly things had managed to fall apart quite so quickly.
It didn't seem like all that long ago she had a steady job and a steady place to stay.
Granted, that 'steady job' was as a henchgirl and that 'steady place to stay' was the lair of one of Gotham's nastier villains, but dammit...it was better than this constant hopping from city to city and hotel room to hotel room, wasn't it?
She was actually starting to contemplate returning to a life of crime.
She knew that the Captain and Al were starting to miss their escapades...the ones they had on purpose, and she was starting to get antsy herself.
The life of a legitimate law abiding citizen was not one meant for she and her friends. Techie thought she had maybe a week left in her before she caved in and suggested that maybe, just maybe this whole 'ethical lifestyle' thing wasn't all it was cracked up to be.
But hey, at least it gave her time to contemplate that bit of a news item she'd heard earlier that morning...something about an emerald and the local museum...
That had promise.
DING!
"Damn you, you stubborn, worthless piece of--"
"Ahem."
Techie stopped banging on the cash register and looked up at the man standing in front of the counter. He was old. Not old enough to be nearing his expiration date, but old enough to be getting close to his 'sell-by' date, at least. Techie winced and gave herself a mental slap. She was starting to think in grocer's terms...that couldn't have been a good sign.
"Welcome to Erica's Imports." She plastered on the 'Buy something and go away already' grin, "Is there something I can help you with?"
"I have come to retrieve a case of Poseidon Caviar," the man said in a very upper crust British accent. "I was told the order arrived this morning."
Techie stared at him blankly for a moment. Poseidon Caviar? Like she would know one kind of fish egg from another? This was a woman who thought a happy meal was a delicacy.
Well, she was good at faking her way in situations where she had no idea what she was doing...this was no exception.
"Um...what was the name on the order?" She asked conversationally, bending down to look under the counter for the binder that held the list of specialty orders.
"Wayne."
Techie froze and gulped, remembering that not so long ago, she and her three comrades had robbed a Wayne industries function...she scanned the order ledger and the feeling that ice had just been dumped on her neck made itself known.
"Bruce...Wayne?"
"Yes indeed, madam. If you would be so kind as to stop wasting my time, I would appreciate it," he replied impatiently.
Techie stared at the book again, just to keep her eyes off the old man who was tapping his fingers on the counter. "Uh…the ledger says it's in the back."
"WAUGH!" The bell on the front door jingled loudly as the door was slammed shut and Oswald Cobblepot, otherwise known as The Penguin, waddled in, startling the other two occupants of the shop.
If the old man noticed that the woman who was waiting on him went white as a sheet, he didn't make comment on it.
He did however notice that Mister Cobblepot's intentions were far from honorable as he gawked at the clerk.
While she knew it was because he was trying to place where he knew her from, Alfred Pennyworth (which was, unbeknownst to Techie, the name of her customer) assumed Cobblepot's gaping at the young woman was more criminal--perhaps even lecherous--in intent.
Techie gathered her wits as quickly as she could and plastered on the same fake grin she'd given Alfred. "Can I help you?"
Cobblepot merely narrowed his eyes at her and adjusted his monocle as he looked her up and down with careful scrutiny. "It's you."
What happened next occurred so quickly that Techie barely had time to register that it had happened. The end of Cobblepot's umbrella shot out into a razor sharp blade (the Techie part of her brain realized that it must've been spring loaded to do so with such speed), was pointed directly at her and his stance became that of a clumsy swashbuckler.
At least, it was before Alfred saw fit to stealthily trip him, snatch the umbrella and whack him on the back of the head with it, knocking him off balance and into a display of gourmet crackers. The gourmet cracker display was next to an even larger display of tinned Goose pate, which collapsed on the Penguin, several cans konking him on the head before finally knocking him unconscious and burying him.
"Are you alright, madam?"
When a can rolled away from the pile, across the floor and landed at Techie's feet, the absolute absurdity of the situation hit her and she started cackling, causing Alfred to look at her like she'd lost her marbles.
"I'm sorry," she said between hysterical giggles, "It's just…"
She pointed at the weapon that Alfred had relieved Cobblepot of mere moments earlier. "Hoisted on his own umbrella."
