For several seconds, Devon and the three girls sized each other up. The silence was making Devon even more uncomfortable, but she tried not to show it. The oldest of the girls stared her down with an apparent skepticism, and the middle one seemed rather unimpressed. The youngest one disturbed her the most; her huge, curious eyes bore into her expectantly, as if waiting for her to do a trick. She shuddered; she hated dealing with children. She hated it. Why did they have to stare at her like that?
"Who are you?" the eldest finally asked.
Devon was shaken back into reality by the snarky tone of her question. She stared down her nose at her, determined not to let a little girl intimidate her.
"Right now, I'm your prison guard," she replied with all the disdain the first girl had spoken with.
"Are you Vector's girlfriend?"
The oldest girl elbowed the middle one at her blatant question.
"No, I'm his—"
"Are you his mommy?" the youngest one interrupted, pressing her palms against the inside of the glass bubble they were encased in.
She wrinkled her nose, "What? No!" although she had to admit, she sometimes felt like she was.
"I'm his intern."
"What's a intern?" the youngest asked, those big eyes almost boring through the glass barrier.
"She's his sidekick," the eldest explained.
"Not exactly," she replied, trying not to make her annoyance at the term "sidekick" known, "but close enough."
Devon finally decided she might as well make herself comfortable. She flopped down on the couch, which was just a smaller version of the couch downstairs.
"What's your name?" the little one asked.
"D."
"That's a weird name. I'm Agnes, and these are my sisters Margo and Edith!"
"Hm…and my name's weird..."
"I'm bored!" Edith complained, sitting down in the middle of the glass bubble and resting her head in her hand.
"Well, you're probably in for a while of that, kid," Devon brought a magazine that had been sitting on the couch up to her face.
She wasn't left to read in peace for long.
"Can we color?"
She eyed Agnes from over the copy of Squid Fancy she pretended to be engaged in, "Not unless you've got stuff in there to color with. I don't know how to open that glass bubble."
"Vector used one of the buttons on the touch screen last time," Margo pointed to the control panel in front of the large screen.
"Last time?" Devon asked, looking up from the magazine, "He's kidnapped you before."
"When he got the moon from Mr. Gru!" Agnes nodded.
"Hm…" she turned back to the article on the first page, Pedigree Cephalopods.
Before any of the girls could pester her again, the familiar tapping of claws on the hard floor came from the stairs and Petunia trotted in, seemingly in a better mood than she had been a while ago.
"Whoa! What is that?" Edith stood up on her knees trying to get a closer look as the chubby animal jumped onto the couch and settled next to her master.
"Eh…that's Petunia…"
"It looks like a puppy!" Agnes bounced on her heels.
"Yeah, well, it's not," she eyed the curious girl again, "She's a wolverine. Trust me, you wouldn't want to pet her."
"Do all villains have vicious pets?" Margo asked.
"They tend to deter people from prying too much. Plus they're usually better company."
Margo shook her head with a roll of her eyes. Just like another "heartless villain" she knew.
"Vector…I didn't think I would be seeing you back here so soon."
Vector approached his father's desk with a proud look, "Well, dad, it turns out things are progressing a lot faster than first planned. If things continue to go as smoothly as they have been, I should have the money for a new heist by next week."
"Good, good," Mr. Perkins nodded, "And how is the intern coming along?"
Vector took his seat on the stool opposite him, "She's got potential! A lot to learn, not gonna lie, but she's a hard worker, I can tell. She'll be playing with the big dogs in no time!"
Mr. Perkins cleared his throat, "Of course. Just…remember your priorities, son. Miss Bree is there to help you. Use her wisely."
"Oh, sure, dad!" he reached for the bowl of M&Ms he spotted sitting on the desk in front of him, "got 'er watchin' the fortress back home like a champ."
Mr. Perkins leaned back in his seat, "So…how are the plans for the next heist coming along?"
"Huh?" Vector's eyes had been wondering around with a giddy inattentiveness until they darted back to his father.
"The new heist! I'm sure you have plans…"
"O-oh!" he chuckled, "Yeah, the new heist! Yeah, um…I'm sort of…well I've been…it's just a matter of—"
His father sighed loudly, "Victor…do you remember what I told you about procrastinating?"
Vector hung his head, "…yes…"
"If you want to be successful in this line of work on your own, you have to be on top of things! I would think that I had taught you that by now!"
"I know, I know, dad! Trust me, it'll be big! HUGE!" he leapt from his seat, "Just you wait! The moon will look like no more than a shoplift compared to what I'll steal!"
Perkins's mouth formed a thin, straight line, "I look forward to it."
Vector paused, his hand already on the door handle, "Dad?"
"Hm?" Mr. Perkins arched an eyebrow toward his son.
Vector turned toward his father with a smile, "I'll make you proud."
Perkins gave his son a sharp nod, "I hope so, son."