Moonstone 4

The sun shone down brightly if a bit intense. Any other day and the heat would have felt oppressive. Today though there was a strong breeze blowing in from the east, carrying with it the scent of the ocean. Dad and I had been a little distant since mom passed away. The bullying didn't help. Still, from time to time each of us would make an effort. This might be him providing a home cooked meal, or me sitting next to him on the couch as he watched the evening news before going to bed. Often times these efforts felt like they were worthless, ships passing in the night. Sometimes though, when we tried at the same time...things were better.

Waking up fet more like entering a dream than leaving one. The smell of bacon, cooking pancakes, the sound of music playing on the old radio in the kitchen, and an off-key voice crooning along with the oldies...these were the sounds and smells of before. I followed them downstairs and found Dad in the kitchen in full blown weekend breakfast mode. The center of the table was covered in the results of his work, plates of food waiting to be served. Two places were made up, plates and glasses and silverware. Just two places. The third was resolutely empty. For some reason though...I was ok with it. Dad noticed me standing in the door of the kitchen and showed me a slightly hesitant smile. I walked over to the table and sat down, returning it.

"Smells great Dad."

The hesitant smile instantly transformed into a thousand watt grin, Dad seating himself across the table from me and taking up the task of serving out the food.

"Thanks Taylor, always good to know that the poison isn't obvious."

I placed a tea bag into the mug next to my placemat, poured some water from the kettle on the table into it, and sat back, letting my tea begin to steep.

"Special occasion?"

"Nope. I just thought we might go out and enjoy the weather. A good meal to start the day, then meandering around the city with the old man, how does that sound?"

Again the slight hesitation to his body language. I picked up a slice of bacon from my plate and took a bite, chewing it slowly before washing it down with a sip of water.

"That sounds like a really good idea."

I wake up from the dream smiling. I know that some might find it weird, smiling at the memory of the last morning I had with my Dad, but it was a good one. The whole day had been great, right up until it ended. I refused to let the reality of the loss define my outlook on life. No matter the truth of what had happened, the results are irrevocably the same. I am on my own in the world, but I will forever have in my past parents that loved me and who would want me to be happy. Stretching out under the covers (which in itself takes on new meaning when you are as potentially stretchy as I am), I enjoyed the warmth of the blankets for another couple of moments before kicking them off and jumping out of the bed. I could feel a smile slowly make its way across my face. Today I was going to rob a bank.

And it would be awesome.

My daily routines take care of themselves with an efficiency that borders on autopilot. Breakfast is a simple affair, a soft fried egg on a toasted english muffin, glass of orange juice and a cup of tea. While drinking the tea I log onto my non-villainous laptop and check all of my regular sites. I read some national news before switching to the local stuff. I skim over an article about my jewel heist, something about one of the rubies having been recovered during a bust in Seattle. As tempting as it might be, I avoid commenting on the article. With the existence of superpowered brains in the world, it didn't seem prudent to try and be sly in that way. I pay my electric bill and feel very grown up in doing so. I pop over to PHO and head to the creative writing board. Hits on my last story have gone down in frequency. I sigh a little. It has been almost two weeks since I completed that story, a slowdown in traffic was inevitable. I was just about to close out of the forum when a new thread caught my eye.

Time of the Moon- A Moonstone/Clockblocker OTP

My mind goes completely blank. There was a fanfic involving Moonstone. I am Moonstone. I AM MOONSTONE! I have reached fanfic status! I was just about to click the thread when I stopped myself. No…..whatever the story, good or bad, it was to be savored. I think I will read it sometime after the bank job. It is important to exercise restraint. Just as important is the notion of rewarding yourself for your efforts. With no small amount of effort I closed the laptop and got up from the table, bringing my dishes to the sink. A few minutes spent washing and putting them away and I was ready to get dressed and start my day.

I know Tattletale wanted things kept low-key until the job was done...but the last weeks worth of work on my Max Anders disguise had helped me to understand an aspect of my power. The more I exercised it's general use (stretching, size change and the like), the easier it was to hold a different body shape. The closest comparison I can think of is that it is like limbering up before exercising. If you stretch really well beforehand, you can run longer without feeling the strain, and you recover easier. With that thought in mind I slipped on my Moonstone costume and checked myself over in the mirror. Satisfied with the image of badassery I was greeted with, I shrank down and ran under the door and into the hallway of the apartment complex. It was time for some shenanigans.

Brockton Bay's boardwalk was a perennial destination for the wealthy, the hip, and those who strove to be or imitate either of the two. Shops sold high end fashion, electronics, artisan foods and high quality crafts. The section of beach below the boardwalk was among the most pristine on the eastern seaboard. Sure, going too far north or south would lead you to the boat graveyard or the overly rusted industrial corridor, but this one section with it's view of the Protectorate Rig was religiously cleaned and maintained. As such, even now in the cooler weather of early spring, both the beach and the boardwalk itself were heavily trafficked.

I prowled along the rooftops on the sea-facing side of the walk, maintaining my small size in an effort to avoid notice. As a rule I didn't come here as a villain too often. While it was always a good place to find those who could stand to be separated from some of their money (and honestly, shopping down here was practically an admission of the desire to be robbed), I enjoy some variety to my criminality. Still, with the impending bank job, starting the day with a touch of the familiar would be reassuring.

As I scoped the pedestrian traffic, a shadow briefly passed overhead. I felt a moment of….something. Some weird combination of fear and joy? Elation? Fearlation maybe? Before I could begin wondering as to the cause, the answer revealed itself to me. Victoria Dallon touched down on the Boardwalk below me. The corners of my mouth curled upwards, my inner monologue deciding to escape for a moment.

"What's this life? An opportunity? For me? You shouldn't have."

I stood up and began running along the edge of the rooftop, keeping pace with the blonde heroine. Timing my next action I hit the edge of the building and jumped. A few seconds later I shrank as small as I could while I landed inside of Victoria Dallon purse. I had timed my jump to the rhythm of her walk, landing while the purse was on a downswing. Holding my breath for what seemed like an eternity, I waited for her to look inside the purse. Instead she walked into what smelled like a coffee shop and sat the bag down on the counter.

"One large orange mocha frappachino please."

YES! Now for the hard part. A relatively ginormous hand reached into the bag and pulled out a billfold. I watched through the opening as Glory Girl withdrew a credit card. One swipe later and the billfold was placed back inside of the purse, the bag lifted, and the rocking motion I associated with movement began. Moving carefully myself, I pushed the billfold open enough so that I could read off the numbers from the card. Some more scrounging and a state issued id card gave me a home address. I experienced a moment of hesitation. Could this be interpreted as breaking the rules? I'm going to say no. This crime is indistinguishable from something I could have (and have) done to anyone.

Pulling out my burner, I opened up the browser and made my way to . Victoria Dallon was about to buy new computers for Winslow High School. Let's hear it for same day shipping.

TWO HOURS LATER

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY CARD'S BEEN DECLINED?!

1800 hours. For an operation this cloak and daggery, I felt like military time was appropriate. After leaving Glory Girl behind to deal with the fallout of not being able to pay for clothes, I had made my way around the city. No real criminal hijinks, mostly just practicing my own brand of free running. As neat as flying or superspeed might have been, there is something inherently cool about shifting size and shape seamlessly as you move up and down buildings, over and under obstacles, selectively revealing yourself or avoiding the public eye. I had stayed well clear of ABB territory. While none of those guys had a beef with me (to the best of my knowledge), Parahumans sometimes just fought. So far I had avoided really being one of those capes. I mean, other than the occasional throw down with Vista. Given my powers vs her powers, that just made for headache inducing fights for anyone else involved.

Note to self, fight Vista more.

Anyway, it was now 1800 hours and I was sitting in a van at the airport with Tattletale and Yggdrasil. Feeling good and lose, I slowly clenched my….everything. A soft golden glow suffused my…..everything and my body was no longer my body. Instead I was Jacob Lightner, airport security guard. The actual Jacob was sitting in the front of the van, counting the thousand dollars he had been paid, half of the total amount he would be receiving for not going to work today. Instead I, as he, would be entering the airport, and then exiting a bathroom as one Max Anders, off to be met by my pre-booked rental car. Then off to the bank.

Unless something went wrong.

Rental cars are nice. Even nicer when you don't have to drive them. This is especially true when you don't know how to drive except in theory. But hey, turns out that planning helps to limit the chances of things not going right. It is for that reason that I, in the form of Max Anders, find myself stepping out of the rental car in front of Brockton Bay Central Bank. I turn to the driver and extend a $100 bill.

"This shouldn't take too long, keep the car running?"

Taking the crisp bill, the driver touches his hat in a small salute.

"Sure thing Mr. Anders."

I walk up the steps of the bank. The lobby is dark, but I can see office lights on in the back. A shadowy figure is standing just inside of the glass door. Taking the steps at a slow, confident walk, I am rewarded by Yggdrasil in my earpiece.

"Good job Moonstone. You are giving me the fucking willies watching you go. Keep it up."

The rightmost door is pushed open from within as I approach, revealing the man who I know from photographs to be Mr. Sydney Leblanc.

"Sydney, long time now see."

A smile for a smile. As I reach the threshold I accept his proffered hand and match him grip for grip.

"Mr. Anders, the same. Please follow me to my office and we will get everything taken care of."

It is always weird to be walking through a building during those times when it is supposed to be empty. Whether it's someone's house, an art gallery, a school, or in this case a bank…..it just feels off. Normally I don't let such thoughts bother me. I think it is different this time because I'm being escorted. Still, guard up and all of that.

Sydney's office was a nice one. A corner job on the second floor of the bank, big desk, expensive looking brik-a-brak on the bookshelves, a nice looking PC, and a stack of papers. Ushering me into an (obscenely comfortable) chair, Sydney walked around the desk and took a seat behind it. Straightening the stack of papers now in between us, Sydney pulled a golden pen from his breast pocket.

"And now we begin."

Tattletale and Yggdrasil sat in the van down the street from the bank. Max Anders!Moonstone had gone through the front door almost an hour ago. Listening in as she was, Tattletale was on edge, but not overly worried. Having ambled into outright villainy mostly through no fault of her own, she was in it mostly for the excitement. Being a fence and information broker wasn't cutting it in the way it used to when she had first gotten away from him, and Moonstone seemed like a good person to work with. No real agenda other than enjoying life, with a healthy distrust of authority. Still, something was nagging her about how long this was taking. While she tried to tease an answer from her power, her thoughts were interrupted by her erstwhile partner in this particular crime.

"FUCK!"

"What?"

Yggdrasil pointed out the tinted window in the back of the van. Rapidly descending from the sky above the bank was a brilliant white light. It descended until it was in front of a second floor window. Then, with a pulse of light and an explosion of glass, the figure entered the building.

The two villains locked eyes with each other and spoke as one.

"Purity."

"And that is the last one."

I rubbed my aching wrist after I slid the paper back across the desk. God damn I was tired. Holding the form is hard enough, remembering all of the acting, the little quirks of voice and expression needed to sell it, while at the same time pretending to read fine print and signing my fake signature over and over again….. I was done.

But at least I was done.

Sydney had been scanning documents and making entries on the computer the entire time I had been doing paperwork. An honest smile crossed my face as he scanned and entered the last signature page.

"And there you go Mister Anders. Those trusts are now fully within the hands of the designated trustee. I'm sorry you have to go, but it has been a pleasure seeing you again."

I stood up and shook the man's hand, working to keep from telegraphing the exhaustion I felt.

"Not a problem Sydney, maybe next time…"

Behind Sydney a blinding white light shone through the window. I had just enough presence of mind to thrown an arm up and cover my eyes before I was thrown backwards, an inward shower of glass and force bombarding me. I felt dozens of jolts of pain as glass entered my body. Poor Sydney was sprawled over his desk, not moving except for shuddering breaths. Behind the desk a woman stood. Shorter than I normally am, her face obscured by the blinding glow of her radiant light. A voice filled with venom tore itself from her throat, communicating a single word.

"Max!"

****Authors Note***

Sorry for the cliff hanger. I want more time to get the rest of this done, but feel like getting this part of it up now. I am off work this weekend, so if the next part doesn't go up tonight, it will be up this weekend.

Two things:

Yes there is a reason Purity is here, it will be explained in the next chapter, though I will be surprised if no one figures it out first.

Second…. Open solicitation. Anyone want to try their hand at an opening blurb for "Time of the Moon- A Moonstone/Clockblocker OTP" ?