Anon requested an update so I'm doing that in a timely manner for once, woop

24. Welfare Check – 6

A little orange bottle of her past had come back to haunt her.

The longer Shilo lay awake staring at the prescription drug, the more it felt as if the bottle was mocking her. That might have been a figment of her imagination, but one thing wasn't: her family didn't trust her. Why else would they deliver a suppressant disguised as a sleep aid? They still thought she was a danger to society, didn't they? They were right, of course, but it still stung.

It had been hours since she'd gone to bed. Eventually she groaned and rolled over to face the wall, skewing her eyes shut – only to throw the blankets back and hurl the damned bottle into the bathroom trash, so she could shut the door to put that much more space between her and the pills.

Only to fish it out in the morning and stow in the medicine cabinet. She changed her mind. Tossed it at the back of her makeup drawer. Stifled a scream and put the bottle back in the cabinet next to the aspirin and generic sleep aid.

She finally dressed and sat on her bed to shovel cereal for breakfast whilst glaring at the news coverage of the bizarro clown jet that had been parked outside her apartment until ten o'clock last night. Of course it had attracted attention yesterday. How could it not? As she glared at the footage showing her residence in the background, her spoon superheated and warped in her hand. She hoped Hugo choked on his breakfast for ruining hers.

Hugo had taken her skateboard yesterday in a failed attempt to slow her down so they could chat. Bold and bullheaded as ever, he'd grabbed it from under her feet and threw it, lacking the forethought to take gravity into account or consider who the board might hit when it came down, or what window it might sail through. Without the wheels under her feet today, she had ample time to notice incognito figures darting in her peripheral.

They didn't trust her.

They didn't trust her with powers she'd received from Lady Fate – just as they had – any more than they trusted her to really be busy as she'd said she'd be.

If they were expecting to catch her in a drug bust or underage booze chugging or whatever miscreant activities they were so sure she squandered her days on, they had another thing coming.

As Buckley got the door for her, glaring up and down the street, Shilo couldn't help ducking her head and hoping desperately that the presence of heroes in the vicinity due to her wouldn't be grounds to fire her over. She liked Buckley's café, most of the time. It smelled nice and there were more tasty treats than she could stomach, which made up for having to fake a smile for the customers. The other gals on Buckley's crew were starting to warm up to her too, after a sort of initiation ceremony involving dope and the robbery of the 24-Seven.

Though, they were still sour with her for her Friday disappearance. That had been alleviated somewhat thanks to serving a certain blue customer yesterday, but the elbows were starting to be prodded in her ribs in a teasing way more than distinctly passive-aggressive. She'd much rather the "accidental" elbowing though, because she'd nearly lost her cool on Abigail for whispering snide insinuations five minutes into her shift as Shilo watched the storefront waiting for a blue idiot to appear again.

She decided she would have preferred Drakken when someone she was somehow even less happy to see moseyed in.

Shilo served him like she would anyone else. In turn, her pops ordered and left like anyone else would.

The cold but peaceful exchange made her feel dumb for giving her father the stink eye upon his entry. Even if his intentions were good, she didn't need a helicopter parent.

Aside from a couple petulant customers, that was the extent of confrontations at Buckley's for the day. It came as little relief when she knew her brothers were out there waiting for her, probably playing up the vigilante act as they kept a lookout.

Well if they wanted to watch her, they could watch her exit out the back door and light up a smoke with her middle finger as she left for the sanctuary of the library once again.

Before she reached the end of the alley, she turned on her heel, opting out of the direct route in favor of a detour. She'd mistakenly told her brothers yesterday that she habitually hit up the library after work. They didn't have to know exactly when she went. The library was still open for a couple of hours, so there was no rush – and hell, there was no rule she had to go to the library anyway. Plans changed. She could change her plans on a whim.

So Shilo went window shopping around Main Street, walking slow as she clutched her purse, cursing to herself for not bringing more cash than what she needed for Chow.

It was just a little too chilly out to think about ice cream, as tempting as the colorful parlor was, and the competing coffeehouse was going out of business for good reason so something hot to drink was out. Pawnshops, thrift shops, antique shops, and the likes were a dime a dozen. Shilo ventured into a couple anyway, if only because a gnarly bear trap in a window lured her into one and the other displayed fine jewelry. She might have filched a pearl necklace if it weren't for the antique shop's owner, an antique herself, in a rocking chair at the back with a cane and seeing-eye dog while a grandson no older than ten tended the counter. It would have been a piece of cake, but she didn't have the heart to rob her blind or steal from the scruffy little kid. Her family might be watching her, anyway.

Shilo was venturing around one of the side streets when a gaudy purple storefront drew her eye from a block away. As she neared, she spied an equally purple arrangement of amethyst geodes in the window. Other quartz varieties were displayed around the prominent purple centerpiece, and as she cocked her head and peered in, she couldn't shake the sense the array was familiar.

As she entered the rock shop, she realized why. A boy with fair blond hair like the sun itself sat at the counter, barely looking up from his task of polishing a stone-carved elephant as he issued a mechanical greeting, "Welcome to the Quarter Quartz." Dazzling aquamarine eyes made up for the dull reception. He blinked as though shaking off his polishing daze and added politely, "Have a look around. Take your time, I'm here all day. Holler if you need something."

Suddenly Shilo felt especially stupid perusing shops around town with so little cash on hand.

The quaint gift shop had a broad selection, yet was just small enough that she couldn't hide from the aqua eyes following her. Inoffensive Gospel music played softly from speakers in the corners of the shop, just shy of obnoxious as long as she didn't pay much attention. Which was easy, given there was so much else to take in that weren't freakishly picture-perfect blue-eyed blond angel boys.

T-shirts with technicolor graphics, either tigers or religious hype, didn't hold her attention any longer than bulk bins of tumbled stones and quartz tidbits, to which the shop surely owed its name. It would have been easy to pocket a few of the prettier pebbles, but she knew there were eyes on her back, even when she heard the angel boy flipping pages of a magazine. They were worthless rocks anyway.

Colorful bandanas and artsy jewelry lined the way as she crept closer to the counter, and she paused halfway there to contemplate turning and bolting out of the shop. As naturally as possible, she grabbed the first thing of interest off a shelf of shiny knickknacks made from a wide range of minerals in every color.

She inspected the small glass globe on its little pedestal. As she stared at it in her palm, a wry tune flitted through her head, and she could just hear her bluebird singing it as she mouthed to herself, "He's got the whole world in his hands." She grit her teeth then at the distant memory of her mother plucking away at a guitar to the very same tune.

She almost threw the globe, or at least set it down carelessly, but took a deep breath and gave the golf-ball-sized sphere a spin on its functional axis. She checked the bottom for a price tag. Twenty dollars, even. She had twenty-five on hand.

Lips pursed in thought, she cast a sidelong glance to the cheap trinkets at the checkout counter, contemplating the basket of overpriced five-dollar strings of little stone beads that served as bracelets, which she couldn't help noticing the fidgety boy was making more of now. She looked back to the heavy glass globe in her palm.

It would make a good paperweight, she decided. And it might serve to keep Drakken's mind on track with his whole world-domination fantasy.

Shilo resigned herself to approaching the angel-turned-cashier. And not just approaching him, doing business with him. Her hands almost glittered as she came forth and set the glass decoration between them.

As she dug into her purse at her hip for her wallet, she almost jumped at the sound of the angel boy clearing his throat.

"Find everything?" he chimed.

She made the mistake of glancing up, but he wasn't looking at her. He was busy fidgeting away with his string of beads. Her hands were warm again, try as she might to divert it, or stamp it out, or exhale a hot breath to relieve herself of an unpleasant burning not too unlike heartburn. She couldn't wait for the day she mastered her accursed fire completely. She'd gotten clear through high school with impromptu flare-ups. She could bear to give an angel boy with some of the prettiest blue eyes she'd ever seen her business.

After a moment, she realized she was staring mute, so she nodded and fished out the crumpled twenty dollar bill from her wallet. For a second, she hoped Drakken wouldn't miss it. She'd meant to return the tip she'd stolen from him yesterday, but she could replace it later, along with the rest of the money she'd been taking from his wallet on a weekly basis now. He hadn't seemed to miss any of it yet.

Paying should have been uneventful. She didn't anticipate the boy to catch her by the wrist, swiftly clasping on a bracelet of—

"Obsidian," he supplied. "And jasper."

Shilo clamped her jaw shut and yanked her hand back from the boy's baby-soft touch before she could mistakenly give him a burn that would surely leave a callus. She fumbled with the clasp, trying to get the string of black and green pebbles off, just as competently mumbling, "I-I can't buy this. I'm only—"

"On the house," said angel boy, already shaking out a small paper bag and padding it with tissue to cushion the glass knickknack.

As he handed her the purchase, she managed to move her jaw again to utter a simple, "Thank you," and spun on her heel to make a getaway before he changed his mind about being dull or giving her a shiny trinket.

"God bless," he called pleasantly after her.

Déjà vu wasn't complete without nearly running into the door on her way out.

She really wanted to damn him now. If not for getting her flustered just by being pretty, then for the knowing chuckle that followed her out as she escaped. And if not for that – well, he just deserved it. She didn't know what for, but there had to be something. Everyone had something.

She slowed her pace as she reached the far corner and looked back over her shoulder at the purple Quarter Quartz, then groaned and shook her head to herself as she went on her way.

Once the nauseating butterflies settled and her mind turned to scouting for her brothers scouting for her, Shilo became increasingly aware how long she'd been on her feet and how hungry she was getting. She checked the receipt in the bag for a timestamp to give herself an idea of the hour, as the cloudy sky was growing dim fast, and she had to stomp down the stirring in her belly again as she decided it was late enough to head for Cow-n-Chow.

She counted herself lucky to catch the bus, one of the scarce few in town, even if she had to run for it, relieved to hitch a ride back toward the center of town. She dug out the globe to idly spin it, but try as she might to study tiny engravings on the world map, her eyes gravitated to her wrist instead.

The rocks were pretty. Even if there didn't seem to be any particular pattern to the tiny pebbles, and they looked a little like glorified aquarium gravel.

She'd take it off, rip it off, something, but it was her stop, so discarding the freebie trinket was put on the back burner.

Cow-n-Chow was a nice enough fast-food chain as any. Specialty burgers and milkshakes were their big sellers, and there was dining with wait staff like any nice restaurant, but there was also an express-service counter for grabbing Chow to go, and a drive-thru, and Shilo's soles were too achy for takeaway.

She was glad the joint didn't have much in the way for windows, making watching for her brothers popping in as easy as watching the door. Well, almost as easy. Milo was still an expert in covert infiltration.

She must have been more wiped out than she thought she was, she realized when a familiar voice made her jump.

"Mind if I sit?"

Shilo lolled her head back to cast a tired glare up at Dr. Drakken, dressed in typical civilian wear consisting of a plain black sweater and slacks, as well as his preferred gloves. His hair was loose, veiling his neck and leaving the only remarkably bizarre feature about the man being his blue face, which she was grudgingly reluctant to admit she was happy to see. It meant he hadn't been hauled off yet.

"It's your funeral," she sighed and kicked his shin under the table when he slid into the little booth across from her. She cast a watchful glance around the restaurant, but he dismissed her worries before she could glare too long.

"They're down the street at the grill," he informed, a note of resent dripping in his grumble.

"How do you know?" Shilo snipped back at him. She narrowed her eyes on him, anticipating a confession to stalking. Though the thought of her brothers preoccupied elsewhere was comforting, and she almost relaxed.

Drakken snorted, his lip twitched into a sneer. "To tell the truth, I was headed there myself but they beat me, so now I'm here for happy hour." He took a long sip from a chocolate milkshake he'd brought to the table with him.

Curiosity killed the cat. "There alcohol in that?" she piped, nodding to the tall glass, and he grunted confirmation. "Can I get a sip?"

"No." He jerked back a bit and pulled it further from her.

Using it as a bargaining chip, Shilo set the sack from the Quarter Quartz on the table beside her. "I'll let ya know what's in the bag," she playfully bribed. "It's a gift for you. But I guess it can wait until Christmas. Or, I dunno, your birthday, whenever that is." She shrugged nonchalantly, and watched as the blue man's curious eyes locked on the bag.

She swore she could see him tensing to spring as three seconds ticked by, and then he cast a quick look around the restaurant himself before pushing the glass across the table to her. "It's not that strong," he warned dismissively as she took a taste. "Just enough to give it a kick." She could only hum in acknowledgment as she pushed the bag his way.

Shilo wanted to blame the spiked drink for warming her as he pulled out the globe. His weary eyes brightened up a little. His mouth quirked into a smile and he gave the tiny planet a spin, watching it rotate for a moment before flicking a glance up to her, and then his smile cracked and crumbled and he dropped his gaze.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" he chuckled, stifling his smirk and taking his milkshake back.

"Whatever do you mean?" Shilo feigned innocence and had to smother a small laugh of her own, composing herself as the waiter came around. She looked across to Drakken, unabashedly wondering, "Since you're here, you gonna buy me dinner?" She only had five bucks for herself, which was just enough for a basic Chow combo.

He pulled a face, looking ten times more tired in an instant, and drug his hand down his mug. "Fine," he grumped, and ordered for her before she had the chance. Lucky number 7, extra pepper jack and mushrooms, hold the onions, and large fries – not that she was complaining, but since when did he know exactly what she had in mind? Face warm, she decided it was just a lucky guess. She'd only been ordering the same Chow meal for weeks.

She supposed she could say the same for him, though, because she rolled her eyes as his own predictable order. "Leave it to you to go into Cow -n-Chow and get chicken strips," she sighed when the waiter left.

"I like the crunch," he defended.

Shilo reached across for the milkshake to thieve another sip, and he only grunted his objection. "You know you're really pushing your luck here, right, Doc?"

He only gave a nonchalant shrug, taking his glass back to wipe the straw with a napkin like some kind of germaphobe. "Maybe I like the danger."

Shilo found herself slumping over the table, holding her head up with cheek in hand. "Live for the thrill, huh?" she guessed, watching for the next opportunity to take the milkshake he now guarded.

"I don't mind it."

"We should go skydiving sometime."

The man's suave exterior was a sham, and it broke easily as he just about choked on his drink. "W-what?" he sputtered. He almost let go of the glass and gave her a chance to grab it, but then he was holding it closer, stabbing at the milkshake with the straw in an anxious fidget.

Her pinky nail found its way between her teeth as she contemplated negotiations. "Alright, hang-gliding," she bartered. "Sound better?"

Drakken was still frowning. She decided she'd have to sway him into it eventually. One way or another, she'd bring out his adventurous side. "I was thinking skiing," he grumbled, and changed his mind when she rolled her eyes. "Snowboarding?"

"That's more up my alley," she feigned, though if she were honest, she'd done neither, so she couldn't say for sure. But she used to surf, so snowboarding couldn't be much different, could it? She shook her head to dispel fanciful thoughts of a resort vacation, and made a grabbing motion for the drink he was reluctant to surrender. She was bound to catch something if she didn't break the habit that was forming.

"Alright, you're cut off," Drakken declared in a hiss as a waitress swept by, and Shilo reluctantly forfeited the spiked milkshake. He wiped off the straw again, and hummed thoughtfully as he sculpted peaks in the dessert. "You know, if we ever need to skip town, I have a place in Alaska," he noted. "I imagine the skiing is good there."

She arched her brow. "Seriously?"

Drakken sighed. "Seriously."

A minute later, Shilo was drumming her fingers impatiently waiting on the order to arrive when Drakken hummed again. Her sidelong glance cut to him, and she couldn't shake the feeling he licked his straw from one end of the other to make a point that it was his, like some kind of overgrown child. She didn't care. If she wanted another sip, she'd take it. It couldn't be any worse than sharing leftovers with her baby brothers.

The food came at last, hot and fresh.

Drakken was dipping his fries in the chocolate and Shilo was having the damnedest time not watching the display. She tried to eat quickly. They were really pushing their luck, sitting around, shooting the breeze, when her family was out there somewhere, hunting for her like hound dogs.

Yet he didn't seem to be in any rush when he waved an especially long chicken strip at her like a pointer. "That's nice. Did you steal it?" he wondered, and Shilo didn't have to glance to know what he was pointing at.

She all but slammed her soda down as her palm warmed over with an odd fizzling sensation reminiscent of the carbonated beverage she nearly crushed in her grip. "I got it for free," she answered with a vague lilt. She was that much closer to tearing it off, but hid her hand under the table instead and filled her mouth with fries so she wouldn't have to speak.

She spoke anyway before she could even swallow. "Some guy gave it to me," she divulged, and convinced herself she only let it slip to watch the words burrow under his skin.

They really must have, because his innocent curiosity and relaxed stare hardened into a frown as he scoffed and sat back. "Imagine that," he mumbled into the milkshake glass as he took a swig, not bothering with the straw anymore.

Shilo didn't zip her lips shut in time. "Jealous?" she quipped.

Drakken hardly bothered to shake his head, preoccupied with dipping a chicken strip in his milkshake as if it were just another condiment.

Lip curled in disgust, Shilo sat back as he took a bite of the abomination. "Can you not be gross?" she snipped. "Cripes, I thought you had good taste." She thought she had better taste. She told herself even angel boy fanning inexplicable hellfire ready to engulf her was preferable to sitting down to Chow with Drakken. She barely convinced herself, even watching him double-dip chicken in chocolate.

She shuddered. "I'm done," she announced as she jumped up. "Catch you later."

Drakken didn't spare a farewell as she left him with the little glass globe and the bill.