Dennis looked up as the entry light for the wards common room illuminated, then checked who it was on the other side of the door via the screen on the inside of the room which was connected to a camera outside. "Miss Militia, everyone," he called. "Act normal."
"We are normal, Dennis, you're the abnormal one," Chris called back without looking up from his hoverboard which was sitting on the table in front of him while he fiddled with its innards.
"Very abnormal," Missy put in, grinning over at him from where she was reading a magazine. "But to you that's normal, so..."
"Thanks, guys," he laughed, then as the timer ran out, whipped the door open and stepped to the side with a deep bow, waving one arm like a Maitre d' at a high end restaurant as the super-heroine on the other side looked at him. "Please enter, Oh Military-Themed superior. What can we humble Wards do for you this fine day?"
"Fine day?" Carlos looked out the window for a moment. "It's totally fogged up out there and cold as well."
"All right, this totally foggy and chilly day, then. The question isn't changed by the minor details of the current environmental conditions," Dennis replied, straightening up and turning to his friend. "We still haven't established what we can do for our beloved leader. Well, technically deputy leader. Stop confusing me."
"Confusing you?" Missy giggled.
Miss Militia, who had been watching and listening to all this with a raised eyebrow, sighed behind her scarf. "You are definitely getting stranger, Clockblocker," she commented as she entered the room.
He grinned and bowed again, one leg back, performing a complex salute with both arms. "Milady is too kind."
"Idiot," Chris snickered, glancing over for a moment.
Dean came out of the kitchen and looked around, having apparently only caught the last of this. "Who's an idiot?" he asked, smiling a little.
"Who do you think?" Carlos sighed.
"Stupid question, really," Dean laughed, looking over at Dennis, who waved, grinning broadly.
Pleased with his own performance, the red-head turned back to Miss Militia who was now looking at him with weary patience. "Is this a casual visit or an official one? If it's official I'll have to go and change into my 'Listening to superiors' T shirt."
"He actually has one," Chris laughed, closing the open panel on the hoverboard and putting his tools down. "And a 'Not listening to you' one, a 'Not listening to anyone' one, and a 'Shh, can you hear that?' one."
"I am a man of many shirts," Dennis chuckled, following as Miss Militia walked over to the table and pulled out a chair. He dropped onto the sofa next to Missy who grinned at him for a moment, then put her magazine down and looked at the older woman.
"I wanted to ask you all if you'd noticed anything odd going on with Panacea recently at school, or outside it," Miss Militia asked when they were all watching her, undoing her scarf and dropping it away from her face. She rubbed her nose for a second. "Aside from the overall oddness of what's been put on PHO, of course."
"You mean aside from the new costume, her friendship with the two most dangerous capes in Brockton Bay, riding one of said capes like a weird hybrid of a horse and a gecko right up the side of the buildings, joining in on serious trolling of Assault, which by the way I loved, and her overall appearance of being much happier?" Dennis asked wryly. "No, not really. Those aside."
Miss Militia pinched the bridge of her nose and looked exasperated. "Does anyone other than Dennis have any useful observations?" she asked. He opened his mouth, she raised a warning finger, and he closed it again, grinning to himself.
Dean and Carlos looked at each other, then at Chris. All three of them shrugged slightly. "She's definitely been happier the last few days, Dennis is right about that," Carlos said slowly. "No less snarky but there isn't nearly as much venom behind it. She's got an acid sense of humor at the best of times but she seems to be… I don't know, not quite as pissed off with the world as usual?"
"She's been spending more time with other people outside Vicky's friends and us as well," Chris noted. "Sitting at another table and meeting new people. She's definitely a lot happier. I'm pleased for her. I think meeting Taylor was a good thing for Amy."
Miss Militia looked at him. "Taylor?" she said with an odd tone in her voice.
"Taylor Hebert," he explained. "She's a new girl who transferred in from Winslow a few weeks ago. They met when Amy tripped in the cafeteria and fell over, she whacked her nose or something, and Taylor picked her up and took her to the nurse. They seem to have become good friends as a result."
"I think it was Taylor who suggested that Amy should cut back on all her volunteer work and take some time for herself," Dennis added. He smiled a little. "Which is something we're been trying to get her to do for a year now. I'm glad she finally listened to someone."
He was watching the older woman's face and wondering why the mention of Taylor's name had apparently startled her. While he played the fool, he wasn't one, and he was pretty good with expressions. She knew that name, and he wondered why.
The even more interesting thing was that Carlos obviously knew something more as well, based on the way he'd glanced at Miss Militia when she hid her reaction to Taylor's name.
And, for that matter, why was Dean looking pensive?
He was distracted from his musings when the woman said, "She's cut back on the hospital work?" There was an odd expression on her face.
"Yep. She said that they were actually pleased about it. Apparently some of the doctors and nurses there have suggested the same thing before but she always turned them down. Now she's going in every second day from Monday and has some other deal for weekends." He leaned back, watching her. "Personally I think it'll do her good. People need hobbies and that girl was the most single-minded person I've ever met other than Armsmaster. She was driving herself nuts."
"She does seem a lot happier," Dean admitted. "I've been worried myself, she was getting very… wound up, in a quiet and tired way." Everyone looked at him. "I can't express it better than that and it's kind of private anyway, but trust me that it wasn't good. She's definitely heading in the right direction now, though."
"Still has a tongue made of barbed wire," Chris chuckled.
"Oh, god, yes, if anything she's even snarkier now," Dennis laughed. "But in a healthier way. And Taylor can give as good as she gets, listening to those two get into it is hilarious."
"I see." Miss Militia thought for a moment. "Do you know how she met Raptaur? Or Saurial?"
"Saurial was because of that thing the other day with the gunfight on the street, Saurial stopped it and Amy was just in the area and healed all the people who got hurt," Chris said. "She said she'd been heading for a restaurant when it happened, started talking to Saurial, and ended up inviting her along so they could talk some more. I think Saurial introduced her to her sister. She hasn't said much about that. The whole 'riding the scary cape lizard' thing started when she wanted to get home and Raptaur literally gave her a lift." He grinned, looking mildly jealous. "It looks like good fun."
"If you get over the fact that she's literally sitting on top of the cape that took out Hookwolf and made it look like she was annoyed about how easy it was," Dennis snickered.
"Yes, true enough," his friend smiled.
"And the new costume?" Miss Militia asked. "Where did she get that?"
"Raptaur made it for her." Chris looked envious. "I really want to have a look at it but I haven't seen it yet."
The woman nodded, silently absorbing the information. Dennis looked around at his friends, who looked back. Missy lifted an eyebrow and shrugged a very small amount. "Why the questions?" he finally asked, turning back to Miss Militia, who looked up at him from where she'd been contemplating the tabletop.
"I was mainly curious," she said slowly, which he could easily tell was only a partial truth at best. "Whenever something changes in the cape world in Brockton Bay I like to learn about it. You never know when that information could be useful. Thank you all for answering my questions."
Dennis leaped to his feet and made another bow. "You are most welcome, Oh Beauteous One."
She gave him a severe look. "Stop that."
Snapping to attention he saluted stiffly. "As you command, Ma'am," he exclaimed in his best parade ground tones.
Sighing, while the others all laughed, she shook her head sadly. "You are impossible," she grumbled, although with good humor.
Relaxing he smirked. "So people tell me."
She got up, refastening her scarf across her face. "I'd like you all to keep an eye on the situation. If you see or hear anything that strikes you as concerning about Panacea, please tell me."
"Do you expect anything like that to happen?" Chris asked, sounding worried now. She shook her head as she turned to him.
"No, of course not, there's no need to worry," she said reassuringly. "I expect that as you all said, it's a good thing that Panacea is making friends now outside her original group. I've noticed myself that she's been quite withdrawn for some time. Most likely the strains of her abilities and the work she does. But just in case, keep an eye on her."
"She's a friend, we always look out for our friends," Dennis commented, watching her.
She smiled at him as far as the look in her eyes showed. "Good. In that case, I have work I need to be getting on with and I believe your patrol shifts start soon. I'm also waiting for your reports from the patrol yesterday, Dean, Dennis."
"I'm still writing mine up," Dennis said, half-truthfully. He was actually about to start writing it up.
"Mine is nearly finished, I'll file it in about twenty minutes," Dean added. He frowned a little. "Do you know anything about the work the DWU is doing down on the docks and why they needed to clear out five or six warehouses?"
Miss Militia looked at him for a moment. "No, that's the first I've heard of it. What are you talking about?"
His friend quickly summarized the conversation they'd had with Glory Girl the day before, leaving out the personal stuff. She looked very thoughtful. "How… interesting. And Glory Girl was helping?"
"Yep, she seemed pleased to be allowed to break things and get thanked for it," Dennis smirked. "For once. She seems to like Raptaur and from what she said it's mutual."
"Raptaur was working for the DWU as well?"
"Apparently. I'm not sure how that happened, though," he replied. "From what she said The Family have their own company now to work through. Which is weird, but sort of cool as well."
The older cape stared at him. "What?" she asked, sounding very surprised.
"BBFO. Brockton Bay Family Operations, LLC," Dean interjected. Dennis nodded.
"I… see." Miss Militia looked at them both, then shook her head a little. "Unusual. I'll have to look into that. Thank you."
"Any time," Dennis smiled, sitting down again, while thinking about her reactions. He didn't let his smile slip although he noticed that Dean glanced at him with a small frown, though he said nothing.
"Make sure you get me those reports as soon as possible," she told them as she headed for the door. "Dennis, you've been late filing one three days in the last ten. Please try to avoid that."
"I'll do my best, Miss Militia," he replied with a good-natured grin. She nodded, checked the monitor for the corridor camera, then opened the door and left.
When it closed behind her, he looked around at the other Wards. "That was a little… weird… wasn't it? Or is that just me?"
"She did seem a little over-curious about Panacea," Chris noted, his right hand resting on his hoverboard, the fingers tapping out a slow rhythm. "I wonder why?"
"She's just worried that Raptaur or Saurial might get her into trouble, or something like that. Panacea's not a fighter," Missy suggested. "It's a little out of character for her to be charging around wearing that costume and riding a huge lizard."
"It's fucking cool, though," Dennis snickered, making her nod with a grin.
He watched as Carlos seemed to be thinking about something. Dean, when he checked, was also somewhat silent and thoughtful. After a moment, he decided that now wasn't the time, getting up and retrieving his laptop and opening the relevant form for filing a Ward Patrol report. Sighing slightly, he started typing.
"Thanks for the ride, Dad," Taylor smiled, leaning in the window of the car. Her father smiled back.
"You're welcome, Taylor. Call me when you want a ride home."
"OK," she said, straightening up and watching as he ran the window up, then drove off. She waved, as did Amy and Vicky, before they turned to look at each other. "Where do you guys want to go?" she asked.
"Good old Fugly's is the normal place," Vicky commented. "I'm not hungry enough for a real restaurant." They looked at Amy, who shrugged.
"I don't mind, I'm fine with anything."
"Fair enough. Grease in a bun with cheese, here we come," Taylor grinned, turning towards the other end of the Boardwalk from where they'd been dropped off. The trio started walking slowly along, watching the tourists, a few of whom were watching them, as a result of recognizing Glory Girl. Most of them were polite about it, apparently also realizing that since she was wearing jeans, a nice shirt, and a stylish jacket over the top of it, she was off duty and wanted to be left alone.
A few still approached and asked for autographs or photos even so but they were all pretty polite and she obliged with a smile. "Do you ever get used to that?" Taylor asked after the sixth one in less than three hundred yards.
"Kind of," Vicky replied, glancing at her. "At first it was a bit odd, but it's mostly really cool. You might have noticed I'm a little extroverted." At her sister's snort of laughter she blushed slightly. "More than a little, then."
"Don't understate it, Sis, you love it and you know it. You've never turned anyone down who wanted a photo with you that I've ever heard about," Amy grinned. "Sometimes when you're in a really good mood you chase them to get into the shot."
Taylor giggled, shaking her head. She could actually picture that without too much trouble.
"Hey, that was only once and they were fine with it," Vicky huffed, making Taylor and Amy smirk at each other behind her back.
"I don't know if I could ever get used to people staring at me when I was just walking around minding my own business," Taylor commented, noting Amy peer sideways at her then roll her eyes, although Vicky didn't notice. "That would be weird."
"Oh, I'm sure that if anything like that ever happens to you, Taylor, you'll get on fine," the blonde laughed, putting her arms over both their shoulders, one on either side of her. "You seem like an adaptable person."
"I'm not sure," she replied doubtfully. "Having people look at me because I was… well, different? It would take a lot of getting used to." She brought her tail up and poked Vicky in the back of the neck with the tip of it, making the girl swat at her neck as if there was a fly there, and Amy nearly go purple trying not to giggle when she noticed. "I'm perfectly happy being normal and unremarkable. I'll leave the super-heroics to you and Amy." She gently prodded Vicky's left ear, making the girl slap herself, then look around irritably.
"Damn insects, even at this time of year," she muttered, annoyed. "Probably someone hasn't emptied their garbage and it's attracting flies."
Amy turned away and stared hard into a shop window, her shoulders twitching, while Taylor smiled politely. "I guess so. They should do something about that before rats turn up."
"Damn right," Vicky grumbled, before another tourist attracted her attention by pointing a camera at her. She smiled brightly as Taylor stepped back out of shot, joining the other Dallon sister off to the side. They exchanged a look of wordless hilarity for a moment, then put serious expressions on their faces when they rejoined Vicky, who finished signing a notebook the photographer handed her. She gave it back, smiled again, then they moved on.
Eventually finding themselves in the long-standing fixture of the Boardwalk, Fugly Bob's, they found a table and sat down, looking over the menu. Working out what they wanted, Vicky volunteered to get the order, hopping to her feet and heading to the counter. Amy and Taylor watched her go for a moment, then looked at each other.
"Normal and unremarkable," the remaining Dallon girl snickered, looking at her friend, who grinned back. "You are unbelievable."
"I believe so," Taylor replied, a contented smirk on her face.
Amy shook her head, matching it.
"Oh, look, there's an ugly face I haven't seen for a while, thank god," a loud voice said from off to the side. Recognizing the voice with irritation, Taylor sighed minutely, met Amy's confused eyes, then turned her head to see someone she'd hoped would never cross her path again.
"Hello, Madison," she said with a small smile. The petite girl was standing with a pair of bookends Taylor vaguely recognized as two of Emma's hangers-on. "Hold on, don't tell me, let me see if I can remember," she added, peering intently at them both. "Ahhh… Got it!" She snapped her fingers in triumph. "You are Tweedle-dee and you are Tweedle-dum, right?" Indicating each of the two girls, who were quite good looking in a somewhat vapid sense, she smiled, then frowned. "Or was it the other way around?"
"Oh, ha ha, Miss thinks she's so clever," Madison sneered.
"Is that your last name, Taylor?" Amy asked brightly. "I thought it was Hebert. Thinks-She's-So-Clever is a nice name. Is it Native American? I met someone once who was from a tribe out west somewhere, his was Flies-with-Eagles or something like that. You should go with your real name, Hebert is so… so boring."
"We changed it when my grandfather married," Taylor smiled, turning to her friend and ignoring the three girls who were now looking confused instead of superior. "I sort of like it, but it's hell to write on forms and assignments. Hebert is much quicker."
"I can understand that," Amy laughed. "I have to write my name a dozen times a day. With one that long I'd end up with a cramped wrist."
"It's one of the dangers, yes," Taylor agreed.
"HEY!" Both of them turned to Madison, who had gone slightly red. "Stop ignoring me!"
"Why?" Taylor cocked her head to the side, inspecting the much shorter girl. "What's in it for me?"
"What?" Madison was back to looking confused for a moment. "Shut up. You're always saying stupid things."
Taylor cocked her head the other way. "Really? I can hardly remember the last time I actually spoke to you. I'm not even sure who you are. Didn't you used to hang around with some very unpleasant and not very bright girls at Winslow?" She looked at Madison's two companions. "Not these ones, though, they look even stupider than the ones I recall you followed around like a faithful pet, now that I think about it."
Madison went bright red, while her two followers looked at each other for a moment, appearing unsure what to do. "You fucking know who I am, bitch," Madison growled, making Taylor grin to herself. She thought it sounded like a pekingese facing off against a rottweiler and yapping loudly to give itself courage. "You just said my name a minute ago."
"Did I?" Taylor leaned closer and studied the girl's face. "Oh! Right, I remember now. Madison! You sort of fade into the background if I don't concentrate. How are you? How have you been?" She jumped to her feet and embraced the girl, who froze.
Releasing her she sat down again, smiling. Madison gaped, while Amy tried not to laugh, muffled squeaks of amusement coming from under the hand she had over her mouth. "It's been weeks. Still stuck in that hell-hole Winslow? Or did you get expelled? I've been enjoying myself a lot since I escaped." She smiled with a lot of teeth, resisting the urge to make them very sharp with some difficulty. Even so, all three girls leaned back. "So very much. But I don't think your two little friends have had the same luck. Not with Emma being in a mental hospital and Sophia having more or less disappeared, so I hear. Odd, really."
She studied the girl for a moment, then shook her head, turning to Amy. "Remember I told you about all that? Very weird girls, those three. Dedicated, I guess, to have put all that effort in. But not very smart."
"They did sound pretty stupid," Amy agreed mildly. "Vicious, like a rabid weasel or something, but not bright. Otherwise you'd never have been able to play them so perfectly."
"Most people would have been at least a little suspicious," Taylor nodded, picking up the menu and reading it. "Maybe I should get some onion rings as well. What do you think?"
To the side the third member of her tormentors was edging towards purple. Both the other girls with her were staring at Taylor with peculiar expressions.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Hebert," she finally squawked, outrage in her voice.
"Having a burger with some friends. What are you doing?" Taylor smiled at her again. "Madison, isn't it?"
"Stop doing that!" Madison screamed in fury.
"Doing what?"
"Pretending you don't know who I am!"
"Am I doing that?" Taylor put a worried look on her face. "Sorry, Mary, I'm terrible with names."
"MADISON, YOU BITCH!" The petite girl screamed in her face, looking furious.
"She seems somewhat upset, Brain," the Varga commented wryly, having been laughing for the last couple of minutes nearly constantly.
'It looks like it's easy to push her buttons,' Taylor agreed with a hidden smile.
"You do know some very loud people, Taylor," Amy sighed. She looked around, "Everyone in here is staring at us now."
"Could you keep the noise down, whoever you are?" Taylor asked calmly. "You're attracting attention."
"GAAHH!" Madison picked up a paper napkin dispenser that was on the next table along and threw it at her, making her move to the side slightly and allow it to fly past and land on the counter with a loud crash, spewing napkins all over the floor.
"OI!" The large man behind the counter vaulted over it and stormed over, glaring at Madison and her cronies, who now looked worried. "No throwing things in here! Out, all three of you."
"It was her fault," Madison screeched, pointing at Taylor, who waved a little at her, smiling. The counter-man glanced at her for a moment.
"No it wasn't, I saw it. She's just been sitting there, you threw that at her."
"I saw it too," Vicky said from behind Madison. "This girl seems to be a bit unbalanced."
"Who the fuck do you think you..." Madison snapped, whirling to stare at the blonde, then trailing off abruptly. She clearly recognized the face of one of the most famous inhabitants of Brockton Bay, who smiled winningly at her.
"Shit, it's Glory Girl," Hanger-on number one said in a wondering voice.
"Excuse me, you're standing in the way," Vicky said, motioning with the tray she was holding. The three girls moved rapidly out of the way, then looked shocked when instead of going past, she slid into the booth that Taylor and her sister were sitting at, putting the tray on the table. "Here, Taylor, this is yours, and this is Amy's," she said, distributing the food.
"What… But..." Madison sputtered as she saw her former tormentee accept a burger from Glory Girl and unwrap it. Taylor took a bite, then smiled.
"Wonderful. I needed that."
All three of them looked up at the other trio of girls. "Oh, hey, it's Madison, isn't it?" she said cheerily. "Fancy meeting you here! How have you been?"
Her old nemesis just stared, her face blank. After a moment, the counter-man, who had been watching with a slightly puzzled yet amused look, put his hand on her shoulder. "Enough fun. You three are banned for a month. Push off." His faint English accent strengthened for a moment. "Come back before then and it'll be a permanent ban. I don't want troublemakers in here."
He gave Madison a gentle shove towards the door. Moving slowly in that direction appearing like she was trying to work out what was going on, she peered back over her shoulder a couple of times, then eventually left the place, her two companions trailing after her and talking together in low voices.
"No more trouble, yeah?" the man said, turning back to Taylor, who put an innocent look on her face. "Right, nothing to do with you, I get it." He grinned a little. "Just don't push your luck. Enjoy your food." He went back to the counter and resumed his place, going through the door at the end in a more traditional manner this time.
All three of them exchanged looks, then burst out laughing.
"God, that felt good," Taylor giggled. "She looked like she couldn't figure out what the hell was going on."
"What's the story there?" Vicky asked curiously. "You obviously have history with that little shit."
"You might put it that way," she replied, looking at Amy for a moment. The other brunette shrugged a little. "OK, but I don't want it going any further, all right?"
Vicky mimed a zipper over her lips. "Mouth sealed. Promise."
In a low voice, Taylor began a brief explanation of the Winslow days, finding it much easier now than it had been the last time with Amy. Vicky listened quietly, although her face showed she wasn't happy about it.
When she finished, the blonde girl was silent for a little while. Eventually, she shook her head in disgust. "Fuck, that's awful. How the hell did you come out of that sane, never mind the person you are?"
"A lot of luck, my father, and some good friends," Taylor said quietly. "It could have been a lot worse. But it's behind me now and little reminders like that aside, I'm not going to waste any time thinking about it."
She shrugged, finishing off her burger, then picking the menu up again and perusing it. "My life is completely different now, it's going really well, and I'm not going to let anything wreck that. Oh, look, they do chicken wings now."
Vicky stared at her. After a moment or two she smiled. "You are weird, Taylor, but fun. And a lot stronger than I would have been under the same circumstances."
"Thanks." She stood, looking at the other two. "Wings?"
"OK," Amy laughed, while Vicky just grinned. Shortly she was standing at the counter waiting for her order, musing on how much better the little encounter had made her feel.
Parking her bike outside the Dallon house, Miss Militia looked at the other car in the driveway next to the one she recognized from the plate number as Carol Dallon's. It looked familiar. After a moment she remembered, it was Sarah Pelham's car. So both sisters were in the house. That could possibly be useful.
Walking up to the door she adjusted her scarf, then rang the bell. A minute or so later, the door opened, to reveal a rather bleary-eyed and not entirely well looking Carol, who stared at her blankly for a moment or two before recognition came into the bloodshot eyes. "Oh. Hello, Miss Militia."
"Hello, Brandish," Hannah replied, somewhat concerned. "Is everything OK? You don't look well."
"I'll be fine, thanks," the other woman sighed, rubbing the side of her head with the hand not holding the door. "I… got a little carried away with drinking last night. With Sarah. Come in." She stepped to the side, allowing the other cape entry.
When they were both inside, she closed the door, then led the way into the living room, a place Hannah had been a few times in the past. She entered and looked around, noting that it showed signs of what looked like a party, although it had mostly been cleaned up. Sarah Pelham was sitting on the sofa holding a steaming cup, also looking rather the worse for wear.
"Hi, Miss Militia," she said quietly, before taking a long drink of the contents of the cup, which seemed to be very strong coffee from the smell. "It's nice to see you again. What brings you here?"
"I was in the neighborhood and decided to stop by," Hannah fibbed. "But if this is a bad time I can leave."
"No, as long as you're here, stay. Would you like some coffee?"
"Please." She watched as Carol wandered off with a pained look on her face, disappearing into the kitchen. Looking around again, she turned back to the blonde sister, her eyebrows up. "Were you celebrating something?" she asked curiously.
Sarah half-smiled. "My sister's idiocy, to start with," she quipped, then winced. "It sort of snowballed from there."
Carol came back with two cups of coffee, handing one to the new arrival, then slumping into another chair with her own one. Miss Militia sat as well, trying the coffee, which was indeed extremely strong. She thought it was pretty good. "I… made a mistake with Amy yesterday morning," the Dallon woman put in, after drinking half her cup full, heedless of the heat. "It didn't go very well. Sarah came over to set me straight." She smiled faintly, shaking her head, then stopping abruptly with a wince. "Ow."
"Setting her straight involved a lot of shouting, then a lot of drinking." Sarah smiled ruefully. "I lost count at five bottles, but Vicky claimed it was actually eight. Which might have explained why I was apparently eating anchovy paste directly from the jar by the spoonful."
Hannah gagged a little. She liked the stuff, but not neat. "You must have been very drunk indeed," she smiled.
"We didn't drink that much after Fleur's death," Sarah muttered into her coffee. "And we were a lot younger then. It's not surprising I can't remember most of last night. Although I do remember laughing a lot and talking about our Mom."
"I think I might have said that Amy could have a car," Carol suggested after frowning for a while. "Maybe. It's a little hazy."
"If your head is anything like mine, Sis, it's a lot hazy," Sarah corrected. "And that's after Amy fixed us up. She wasn't very impressed."
"Sounds like you had a night to remember," Hannah laughed, then stopped when both women gave her pained looks. "Sorry. Perhaps not."
"I don't think I'm going to drink at all for a long time," Carol sighed, drawing her legs up on the chair and putting her arms around them. "And I still owe Amy and Vicky an apology both."
"If you don't mind me asking, what started all this?" Hannah asked delicately.
The Dallon woman was silent for a few seconds. "I think I over-reacted," she finally sighed. "There are a lot of historical reasons for it, which I won't go into, but I haven't been treating Amy as well as perhaps I should have done for a long time. Then I found out about her and Saurial, which was weird, then after that I found out about her and Raptaur. Which was weirder. How the hell she ended up apparently best friends with the pair of them I have no idea. But I got nosy, poked around in her room, and found that new costume she was given, then confronted her with it."
She sighed heavily, sipping the coffee more slowly. When she came up for air, she added, "It could have gone better."
"You searched her room behind her back, accused her of a number of unlikely things, and shouted at her, Sis," Sarah said with a shake of her head. "How did you think it was going to go?"
"No idea now," her sister mumbled. "But it didn't improve her opinion of me."
"It didn't improve my opinion of you either," Sarah grumped. "Or Vicky's. She was really pissed, she loves Amy and she thought you were completely out of order."
"I was, I guess."
"No teenaged girl likes having her room searched by her parents," Hannah noted. Both the other women shook their heads in agreement.
"I could probably have handled it more sensibly, in retrospect," Carol admitted.
"It would have been difficult to handle it less sensibly, as far as I can see." Sarah looked annoyed now. "Hopefully both girls will accept an apology. They seemed cheerful enough this morning if rather annoyed at us both." She looked around the untidy room, and smiled a little. "Not without reason. We did get a little carried away."
"How many pizzas did we order?" Carol asked, looking like she was trying to remember.
"Um… Six, I think. In three orders. They wouldn't deliver to us after that, they said the driver was scared of us." Sarah snickered, looking amused. "Poor boy. You were coming on a little strong when he was late the second time."
"Don't remember that," her sister replied as she finished the coffee. "I do remember laughing, then being sick, then eating a lot more pizza, then laughing some more."
Hannah hid a smile. The mental picture this summoned up was completely at odds to the appearance of cold competence the woman normally projected. For some reason it made her more approachable.
"Amy does seem to have been enjoying herself the last few days," she noted. Sarah and Carol both nodded.
"She's a lot happier recently, that's true. Based on some of the videos I saw on PHO she's having a lot of fun. That's good, I guess," Carol replied. "Odd, but good. If only it was with someone else."
"Do you have any concerns about either Raptaur or Saurial?" Hannah was very curious to know what they said. Both women exchanged glances.
"I… don't know," Carol finally replied. "Not for sure. Saurial is terrifying, but cheerful and friendly. Raptaur is a lot more terrifying even just looking at her, but from what I've seen of her so far seems to have a sense of humor, if a somewhat odd one, and genuinely likes Amy. I suppose that if she has to be out dashing about the place, she's at least safe with either of them. But there's still something about those two that I find… inexplicable."
"Join the queue," Hannah muttered, then looked embarrassed as they stared at her. "Sorry. It's just that there are some… unanswered questions, I suppose… surrounding Saurial, Raptaur, their origins, and their relationships. It's a little confusing."
"Glad I'm not the only one who thinks that," Carol smiled, looking darkly amused.
"If nothing else the girl is a lot more relaxed at the moment, Sis, which can't be a bad thing. Let her have her fun. She's nearly eighteen, and up till a week ago had barely any friends that weren't people Vicky hung out with," Sarah remarked. "It will do her good to get out on her own and meet new people."
"I suppose," the Dallon woman said slightly dubiously. "But I have to admit that I've seen her smile more in the last four days than in the previous three months."
They talked for another half hour, Hannah asking questions now and then in as innocuous a manner as she could about both Amy and Vicky Dallon, coming away with the idea that both of them were friends of the reptilian capes, much more so in the former case for whatever reason, and mainly of Raptaur's in the latter case. Neither woman had heard of BBFO or anything happening at the DWU facility, which if they'd actually been drinking themselves into unconsciousness wasn't particularly surprising.
Finally, having decided that she wasn't going to get anything more from them without asking questions she didn't want to, she made her goodbyes and left.
Cruising back to the ferry to the Rig, she pondered the situation. Amy Dallon's home life had never been wildly good as far as she knew, but it seemed to have changed, probably for the better, and rather suddenly over the last week or two. What that actually meant and what conclusions could be drawn from it she wasn't yet certain. It might actually be nothing at all.
A happier Panacea was surely a good thing even if nothing else came out of this.
Putting that part of the current peculiarities of life in Brockton Bay to the back of her mind, she headed for the Docks to have a look at what was going on, her headlight on and helping with the fog, which was making the entire city look like something out of a horror film. The muted rumble of her bike dissipated into the mist as she rode, wondering what was actually going on with the Dock refurbishment, and what the Mayor's involvement in it was.