Chapter 5: Dialogue

10:42 A.M. September 19, 2014

I held open the right door of the small electric car that had just pulled to a stop beside me and bent down to look inside.

"Hey." I said to Anna's scowling face.

She glared at me with those pale blue eyes of hers for a long moment, before finally motioning her head in the opposite direction after probably judging that enough time had been wasted in the staring contest, "Get in! What are you waiting for?"

I gave her a bright smile -which only managed to deepen her frown- and sat in the passenger seat before closing the door. She wordlessly turned forward and started driving.

I waited a minute then two minutes then a little longer as she silently drove the car but no questions came.

Well then.

I relaxed in my seat, putting my head on the headrest and closing my eyes. I had just walked into the PRT headquarters, threatened a hero who probably hated me and walked out, demonstrating clearly to them and to myself that their public announcements, their wanted posters and their rhetoric for firm action were as meaningless as the average romance story.

Still, I could admit to myself that what I had done had been a somewhat impulsive course of action taken in the middle of the night and that it had wasted precious hours that could've been spent on something more productive, like watching a movie or something. Now though that I had taken that first step, I needed an actual plan of action instead of vague ideas of things I wanted to accomplish and vague actions I wanted to undertake, even though there was a strange thrill to living life improvisation after improvisation.

I needed to research the parahuman scene in New York City, familiarize myself with Protectorate heroes, the Wards and any independent hero that was currently active in the city as well as the villains and the rouges. It was going to be boring work but I promised myself it would be worth it. Maybe I would space out my research sessions a bit and do something interesting in-between.

"Taylor!" Anna's exasperated voice drew me out of my thoughts, I cracked an eye open and turned to her still-facing-forward face.

"What?"

She turned to give me a dirty look before turning back to the road and sighing, "You wouldn't actually blow up New York City, would you?"

"Of course not." I replied smoothly.

She threw a sidelong glance in my direction then proceeded to rub her forehead with a hand. She sighed again.

"How did they even manage to arrest you? And why did you not fight back?" she asked after a moment.

"Oh, they didn't." I replied with a smirk.

"What?" she questioned. I stayed silent, choosing to instead turn my face forward.

"Then what the hell happened?" she asked irritably after I failed to volunteer any information.

"I turned myself in." I answered.

There was a pause in the conversation as she supposedly contemplated my answer. "I swear to God Taylor, fine, why? Why would you 'turn yourself in'?"

The real explanation was, of course, impulsive decision making. I had, at the sight of the PRT building -after my midnight walk had taken me to its periphery- made the snap decision to walk in. Not that I hadn't contemplated doing so beforehand or that I hadn't thought through a course of action for after my entrance into the building, just that I hadn't had any specific timeframe in mind. I definitely hadn't expected to have held a conversation with Miss Militia in the morning when I first chose a random direction and started wandering around last night. After stumbling upon the building though, I just hadn't been able to resist walking inside. I had had to see their reactions to seeing Nova herself walking into their stronghold, though to be fair it had been more than three years since the incident so I didn't actually expect anybody to recognize my face. Still, it was bound to be interesting to see if they did recognize me and if not, if they would even take me seriously. I had also been fairly curious as to how exactly they would handle the situation. There was no way I was telling any of that to Anna though.

I turned to her, "To establish a clearer hierarchy of power, to gauge the heroes' reactions to my presence in their city, their capabilities and possibly the degree of their cordiality." I responded succinctly.

It had been a fairly risky move in the end, if the heroes had devised a way to contain me, I would have had to think on my feet. Oh well, it had turned out well enough.

She turned to fully face me, "I… guess that makes sense, but still… why?" she asked incredulously.

I smirked at her, "Well, you see, my dear thinker henchwoman—"

She groaned "I am not a thinker and I am not your henchwoman!"

"This," I continued seriously, ignoring her protests, "is clearly just the first step in my grand plan for world domination. And for the love of God, can you please pay attention to the road? You're going to get yourself killed at this rate."

She huffed and turned back to the road, lasting all of five seconds before breaking into giggles, "Goddammit Taylor, you fucking cartoon supervillain."

I smiled and leaned back, closing my eyes again.

"Oy! Don't sleep in my car." Anna said in a lighter tone, poking a finger into my ribs.

This time it was my turn to groan. "I couldn't sleep even if I wanted to, you inconsiderate asshole."

She giggled again "Fine, sorry. Okay. Now tell me what happened before and after you walked into that building, second by second. Then explain to me exactly what you accomplished."

I sighed, "Are you trying to torture me? Can't I have a moment to myself, pretending to do something I am physically incapable of?" I whined theatrically.

"Oh, come on! You're just ungrateful. I would kill to have eight more hours per day. And no, you don't get to do that. Come on, spill it."

"Fiiine." I replied, opening my eyes.

He followed the bright red car from a distance, always putting at least two other cars between himself and them but making sure to keep them in his line of sight. He listened as Nova regaled the other girl with the story of what had happened inside the PRT headquarters. He listened as she gleefully described the expression on Miss Militia's face after she had revealed the identity of a particularly troublesome Brockton Bay Ward.

He had a decision to make very soon and if nothing else, he considered himself a careful man. He would choose the least dangerous course of action and as he had always managed to do, he would make it work, even when he was stuck between a criminal enterprise and a living, emotionally unstable nuclear weapon.