Rose

"Will it do?" Danny said.

She considered it something of a sore spot for her, and both of them left unsaid what happened in the future regarding their relationship. Of course, she wasn't going to treat him like the father she lost, but her plan to push Taylor and him together was already in motion. This time it wouldn't take her arrest to bridge the gap that happened far too late.

Though she wasn't quite sure how to feel about Taylor developing the world's most immense crush on Miles. It was weird because her younger self's emotions jumped out at her with a clarity that sometimes matched Miles'. It was quite an interesting tidbit that she would have to look into later. However, it was adorable for now. Ah, to be young.

Rose shifted her focus to the warehouse her dad was showing them. It was honestly junk, and even if someone bought it one day, it would be torn down and replaced. Some places were rusted through, and the concrete foundation had numerous cracks. Mold and other plants grew everywhere, especially on the side facing the bay. But it was 125 meters long by 100 meters wide, which would work as a temporary base before they expanded.

'What do you think?' Rose mentally pinged Miles, who was off poking the wall and ended up putting his fist through it.

'Was everything so fragile before? I fear the day I sneeze and blow a hole through everything and everyone before me. As for the warehouse, meh, better than nothing.'

A part of Rose despised the way Miles wrote off their belongings. This was a perk that could only be used once, and that was it. A lousy location or timing would cause them to lose it. And she hated losing control of her POSSESSIONS!

Rose took a calming breath as Miles mentally stroked her through their bond. Maybe it was a good thing they balanced each other out. Her mind quickly flashed through images of stringing up women who dared butt in. For some reason, the one she still pictured was dear old Emma. She hoped that Miles was around if she ever saw her, just to stop the bloodbath that was to follow. The mercenaries already proved that her sense of compassion was toast, and she held no remorse about killing, especially those that deserved it.

Miles had naive and often lofty dreams about making people's lives more comfortable, whereas she was ruthless and pragmatic. But together, they were perfect.

'What if we lose it?' Rose couldn't help but put into words her irrational hatred of losing something that was hers.

'So what? It's a fucking building that we could replace and make better in a heartbeat.'

It was just a plain steel and concrete hanger. There was no reason to be possessive about it. This was getting out of hand, and she thought Sam was causing issues before. Now that they were out of the sterile environment, everything set her teeth on edge. She required a place to call her own, one which she controlled entirely. Defended to the gills and ready for anything. Until then, she didn't think she could relax.

"What's the price?" She eventually asked.

"Two hundred thousand, but it comes with the surrounding land and the pier. Anything on it is considered salvage, including beached ships. Actually, that was the main reason we could never flip it. The land is dirt cheap, but those ships would cost a fortune to remove. Not that we're legally allowed to charge more." Danny said. Rose could tell he was content, perhaps even hopeful. A pleasant change from the man who radiated apathy just yesterday.

The ships weren't even a malus to them, maybe even a benefit, as the free resources would help bootstrap them beyond this primitive technology. How her spark rebelled getting into Danny's old truck. The inefficiencies, lack of protection, and weapons all bothered her. But she did find it hilarious that the whole truck drove cockeyed when Miles sat in it. It was his fault for making it so easy to joke about.

"Can we use it without paying right now?" Rose asked, more out of politeness than anything else. She would get what she wanted regardless, but this would cause fewer issues down the line, something Miles wouldn't back down on. How they would own it while being wanted was another issue.

"I shouldn't, but for you, I can. Not a person has been by this place in years, and I'm sure you'd leave it in better condition, anyway. I'll just misplace the deed, so it can't be bought before you're ready."

"That's an awful lot of power you got there, mister spokesman." Rose joked, feeling slightly better that their effort couldn't be legally compromised.

Danny snorted and adjusted his glasses. "The chairman hasn't set foot in the state in a year. With everything slowing down, we couldn't afford a different one, so we left him with his partial salary. We don't complain about him doing nothing, and he doesn't complain about the quarter check."

Rose kept her mouth shut as she wouldn't tolerate that for a moment. She lacked the power to throw around her will just yet. So instead, she scowled at Miles, who was rolling his eyes at her.

"Just keep on the lookout for the Nazis. They've been prowling around the docks for the past few months. Roughed up a few of my guys one time."

There wasn't a cape in the city that could threaten them. Almost everyone in Brockton Bay had a physical power set, which was simple to handle. It was the esoteric ones that might cause issues with Purity high up on the list. Rose gave it a month before that bitch showed her true colors again, and she could slam her.

Miles ambled up, quiet as a mouse, in opposition to his stature. "Well, if they bother you again, just call us over. We can handle it." He said.

Danny jumped and did a double-take at Miles' sudden appearance before rubbing his thinning hairline. "I suppose. Anyway, I have to get back to work. Will I see you both tonight?"

"Maybe, we need to pick up the bunch either tonight or tomorrow once we set the warehouse up," Rose said.

"I still can't convince you to stay at home, can I?"

Rose sent a knowing look at Miles, as no way in hell would they put a hold on their activities, and a wooden house wouldn't last for the foreplay. Last night was a pain anyway, as they lay directly on the floor, nothing else could hold them. She'd be damned if she did that again.

Instead of saying so, she went with the easier excuse. "How's the fridge after Miles got into it?"

Danny scrunched his face at the mention. "Empty. Okay, I see your point." He gave them one last wave before returning to his truck and leaving them there.

They watched him leave, and Rose got 'punched' once he was out of sight. It was more like a love tap that threw her back a few meters.

"Could you stop calling me fat? It's getting old. You also ate half the food after everyone went to bed."

Rose stuck her tongue out at Miles and pinched his ass with her mind. This whole "not banging every moment" thing made them a bit prickly.

"So."

"So."

"What are we going to do for two hundred thousand?" Miles asked.

"I don't know, but I'm sure something will come up. If not, we can jack Coil for all his money, but I don't want to steal. It feels wrong to even consider it. We're Emperor and Empress. We can't call ourselves that and steal." Rose said, and Miles nodded in agreement. She could feel that he agreed wholeheartedly. To kill was okay, but stealing was disgraceful. The only thing it proved was that they could not support themselves.

They had a month or more to come up with the money, but few options: their ego prevented it. That ego stopped them from providing services, selling tech, or anything really. It could be overcome, but just thinking about it left a terrible taste in her mouth. One of the only ways to acquire funds that wouldn't set them off was through tribute, not a tax. Too bad they had no one to provide it.

Miles went up to the warehouse before spacing out. Rose followed behind and laid a hand on his shoulder. She slipped into his mind to watch him place the perk and see why he didn't care about losing the space. The hanger perk did little, much less than she expected. It used the debilitated warehouse like a second skin, sliding the hanger inside and making a few more exits.

Support pillars vanished as a robust roof spanned the gap. The floor followed, giving access to underground vehicle storage and maintenance areas before movable metal grates replaced it. Then the nearest wall to them turned into a barracks slash office area. Finally, the wall facing the bay turned into numerous bay doors, from person-sized to touching the roof three stories up.

Rose had to give the perk one thing: it was a perfect starter base before they moved to larger, better-defended installations. The barracks and office areas for being turned into living quarters. This was a great spot to house Dinah and Taylor, possibly Danny at some point if he wanted to stick around with his daughter more.

The mental overlay vanished as the perk ran its course. Only it hadn't been placing the building as they enacted the changes but did it all at once. Thousands of tons settled into place, rumbling the ground and sending a ripple trailing across the bay. There was always something that screwed them in the end. Rose sighed. It would be child's play to track the epicenter with some seismographs. That threw their anonymity into the wind once someone went to investigate.

Miles rolled his eyes before gesturing at the entrance. "After you."

"If you slap my ass, you're going into the bay."

"I would never!"

Rose only raised an eyebrow before walking past him. A hand slammed into her ass, the crack echoing off the nearby buildings as a seering handprint burned before it healed moments later. She cocked her head around and gave Miles the eye.

"I would never not slap that ass." He corrected himself with a nod.

Rose's fingers twitched, aching to make good on her promise, but that would quickly escalate, and if his wiggling eyebrows said anything, he counted on it. Instead, she kept walking, earning a disappointed sigh from behind. They had far too much to do to consider playing around right now. She required her control and defenses over the area.

The rusted front door swung open, silky smooth as it replaced the inside, but not the facade. It opened into a bare waiting room with no furnishings in sight. Rose frowned as she moved past this room, which led to a hallway and set of stairs as well as a door leading out to the main floor. She ignored the office area and the upper floors and went straight to the hangar.

There Rose found their saving grace to this entire experience. Two Sutherland mecha hung from a rack. Before, they used some of the material as salvage during their time as gladiators, but now they were the most advanced tech they had their hands on. They stood 4.4 meters tall and weighed a minuscule 7.5 tons, but their worth didn't come from their combat potential; no, it was for jumpstarting their tech base. As a military asset, it was utterly useless, as she could rip it apart with her mind.

Miles came to a halt beside her. "Salvage?"

As much as Rose wanted to take both of them apart, there was a secondary consideration. She shook her head no. "Only one."

There was a fifth member of their team now, and she was as squishy as they came. While worthless to them, the suits would be a lifesaver for her. She better get some thanks about handicapping their operation just for Taylor's safety.

It wasn't the only thing lying around from their perks. A single neural rig sat off to the side without a system to connect to. A case of NZT-48 pills that Miles might improve, but he was still forbidden from using them. Lastly, was an even smaller case containing two quantum entanglement communication arrays.

A twinge of annoyance hit Rose when she realized that she had to rewrite her whole operating system yet again. This would be the third time, and it had better be the last, as typing out a million lines of code took time no matter how fast her fingers moved. And she couldn't use the neural rig for programming without the operating system. Miles laughed at her plight. The bastard.

"Should we deep dive?" He asked.

If they went deep into the madness palace, they could create wonderful machines that used a fraction of the necessary materials. Still, there was the chance of them getting sidetracked and making something wholly unnecessary.

"No, we can't afford to just yet. We dual-construct the generator and computer system first."

"Yeah, yeah, fine."

Rose felt Miles latch onto her mind as she grabbed his, their sparks mingling as the world expanded around them. They raised their arms, and the Knightmare mecha fell apart under their attention. Thousands of parts spun around them as REMODEL guided telekinetic forces. Soon, parts descended and formed the beginning of a reactor using Sakuradite as the power source. A unique crystal that powered the frames and was highly explosive. Nothing more than a stop-gap measure until they accessed radioactive materials.

Taylor

The TV displayed yet another report blowing the bank robbery out of proportion. Every member of the Undersiders now had a significant bounty on their heads and called for their immediate capture. It was quite unfortunate for them, and she felt guilty about not persuading them harder to not do something so risky. Yet it also let Rose and Miles yank her away from that horrible idea.

It wasn't just the Undersiders that the news was shitting on, but especially her, or the bug persona she used. There were thousands of allusions to her connection to Empress and Emperor, and most weren't pleasant. It ranged from she was their secret daughter, blarg, to the first of their secret haram. Of course, that was mostly from trolls on PHO, but that didn't stop the news from mentioning it.

Taylor desperately tried to banish the thought from her head, but the memory of ending up on Miles' shoulder being carried away kept appearing. It was stupid, annoying, gross, weird, and dirty! Where did these feelings even come from?

She racked her brain, spending the day alone to replay every moment from the robbery to the night at home. There was not a single romantic feeling for Miles until Rose pulled her away to talk. After that, she didn't know what changed, but by the time they rejoined him and Dinah, it itched in her head. Then there was the little show put on. Taylor felt her face alight again as she buried herself in her hoodie, hiding from those judging eyes of Sam.

Now that burning attraction to a frankly muscled giant of a man annoyed her just because it wasn't her feelings. The knowledge of where her decisions landed her and what atrocities she committed along the way was a pit of despair in comparison. She knew infiltrating the Undersiders wasn't the best decision, but knowing that she'd kill people because of it made her stomach sink. Thankfully, counteracting the butterflies that thinking of Miles awoke. Though, she could've done without the quick run-over of Rose's and Miles' depraved actions, which Rose had way too much fun detailing.

Taylor flipped the channel while she absently stroked Queenie's fur. She was with Rose on this one. Queenie was the best, and Sam was a judgmental cat. A picture of her draped over Miles' shoulder popped up, framing her butt as it faced the camera, and she scowled, quickly changing the channel again. If they could stop showing that, that'd be great.

At least one good thing came of this: she was never going back to Winslow again. It shocked her how much just thinking that lifted a weight off her shoulders. Of course, it's not like the trio won either because it wasn't her decision, and she couldn't refuse. Though she could do with a little less emotional whiplash, going from embarrassed, to happy, to disgust, to smitten, to relieved was hard on her stomach.

Taylor made sure to not glance at the young girl sobbing on the couch. That was a real consequence of her actions and one that Rose's timely intervention couldn't fix. Her parents were dead, partly enabled by Taylor's actions. Unintended repercussions and sentencing a girl to a fate worse than death. A shiver went down her spine.

"Ninety-eight point seven," Dinah muttered, something to do with her power.

"What?" Taylor asked.

"The chance we'll be attacked before anyone comes back."

Taylor's heart lurched in her chest as she immediately delved into her swarm, locating every person around the house. Rose taught her some tricks, but most of the senses took time to develop, the time she didn't have right now. Houses and outdoors were easily swept over with the number of bugs available.

"Don't worry, Dinah, we'll protect you." Sam comforted her.

"Chances one of us is fatally injured, seventy-eight point one percent."

"Oh."

She absently listened to them talk as she moved onto cars. Thousands of them were simultaneously infiltrated as spiders and flies were flown in and crawled through vents. Minutes after she went looking, she found a van two houses down with eight people in it. Besides the number of people, she couldn't make anything else out.

"I sent out a pulse through the bond. Miles and Rose should be on their way soon enough," Sam said.

"I think I found them. They are two houses down on the left and in a van." Taylor said, paying a close eye on them and every other large vehicle moving around in her range.

"Understood," Queenie said before leaping to the door, opening it up, and taking off outside. "Here I go killing again!" Taylor heard the spider mutter before disappearing.

"I can't believe I'm stuck with her. Who influences who? Rose or Queenie? I hope you do better than that." Sam muttered from the side.

Taylor ignored the comment as she tracked Queenie as she hopped from one hiding spot to the next. About halfway there, the van started up and immediately pulled away with a screech of the tires. She sighed in relief until she noticed another three driving down the road. Then they pulled into the driveway.

"Sam!"

"I know, Dinah, upstairs."

The young girl had a blank look, like she had already accepted her fate as she ran up the stairs.

"I'll be in the bathroom. Please try to defuse the PRT." Sam told her, jumping away from the couch and letting the curtain fall back into place.

"PRT?" Taylor asked, but Sam had already closed the door to the bathroom under the stairs.

She got up from her chair as she tracked seventeen heavily clothed people forming up and one lightly dressed person taking the lead. Outside, she saw them in black armor with a large PRT label on the front. The only one not wearing the identity-hiding armor was the hero, Miss Militia. She had her American flag bandana across her lower face while wearing a camo outfit.

This was against the unwritten rules! Taylor grabbed every bug in the radius and pulled them in, forming a swarm high overhead. Her heart hammered, making her injured ribs ache as she tried to create a plan, but she just didn't know what to do!

She wished she had her suit or anything. Even if Miles and Rose showed her how useless it was, it was still better than a hoodie. She did a double-take halfway to the stairs and the door. Maybe if she pretended no one was home, they would leave. On the steps, a knock shook the door and drove her pulsating heart to new heights. She paused before another set rattled the door.

"Open up! PRT!" A woman's voice thundered.

Taylor wouldn't answer. There was no one home. Please believe it!

They hammered on the door again. "Open up! PRT!"

Taylor was caught between running up the stairs and answering when she detected a long metal object being carried to the door.

"Last warning!"

She swore under her breath. "Who is it?"

"Open the door! This is the PRT!"

"Sorry, I don't let strangers into the house," Taylor responded, and it was even the truth. She had never once opened the door to anyone she didn't know. That was a good way of getting killed in Brockton Bay.

"You will be charged with "Interference with search" if this door is not opened immediately!"

"Show me your badge!" Taylor yelled back.

Instead of replying, the door cracked under the impact as Taylor stumbled back. The next hit bowed in the center of the old wooden door. A moment later, the lock broke off in a spray of splinters, and Taylor called her swarm down even if it would expose her as a cape.

Once a hero Taylor looked up to, Miss Militia burst through with a shotgun in hand. The gun was immediately pointed at Taylor.

"On the ground!"

Taylor took a step back, her foot hitting the bottom step as she mentally screamed that this shouldn't be happening. Her bugs swarmed over the troopers outside before they could follow the hero in, leaving it as a one-on-one fight. She half-raised her hands in surrender when the screams started.

Just a meter away, Miss Militia jerked, keeping her shotgun pointed at Taylor as she pulled the trigger. She watched in slow motion as the muzzle blast sent a wave of sparkling bits into the air as a small object flew through it before opening up. It moved faster than she could react. It expanded, traveling a short distance before slamming into her chest. A thunderclap of a punch rattled her as she fell backward onto the stairs. Pain beyond anything she imagined filled her. She pulled down every bug possible and told them to attack, even as Sam blew out of the bathroom and Queenie assaulted from the rear.

Miss Militia tracked Sam with her gun but wasn't quick enough before she was tackled out the door. She breathed a hair in and felt daggers spear her before telling the hornets to sting the troopers anywhere they could, including Miss Militia. The shotgun went off again. Splinters showered down on her as she tried to push herself up, only to be met with excruciating pain from the right of her ribcage.

What sounded like a machine gun went off, and to her hazy eyes, she saw holes spraying across the wall and glass shattering. Then everything went quiet. Her bugs on the assaulting PRT troopers told her they were all in one gigantic pile as she pulled them away.

Taylor coughed and saw stars. As she pulled her hand away, it was bright red. That wasn't good. The sound of blood rushing filled her ears as darkness closed in around the edges of her vision. Queenie flew over and disappeared up the stairs.

A soft pressure surrounded her body and lifted her off the stairs. An icy fear filled her as Dinah's words bounced around in her head. It would seem that she was the one fatally wounded. Her mind blanked as Sam spoke to her, but she retreated further into the swarm to avoid the pain.

Through the senses of thousands of bugs, she watched herself being pulled from the bullet-riddled home and floated by an enormous pile of PRT troopers webbed to the ground with Miss Militia cocooned up on top. Queenie pulled Dinah out, red drenching her shirt sleeve that was webbed up tight.

Taylor floated right into the back of a PRT van, Sam hopping in beside her while Queenie firmly placed Dinah in the passenger seat. She briefly wondered who would drive in her hazy state until Queenie wedged herself into the driver's seat. Huh.

The van lurched into motion; the movement dulled by Sam floating Taylor above the van's floor. It would be comfortable, like a nice bed, if it weren't for the stabs of pain that came with each breath she took.

"Sh, sh, don't say a word. Miles will put you back together. Small breaths." Sam said.

A smash banged out as the van shook from the impact. "Get out of my way! Imbeciles!" Queenie yelled from the front.

The engine cranked as the tires squealed, yet the van barely moved. Then it jolted back before the engine screamed, and another thud shook the van. "Enjoy the ditch, bitch." Queenie howled before cackling.

Maybe it would be better to wait for Miles than to have Queenie drive. Taylor noted the muttered remarks about insane spiders from Sam and claws piercing the floor.

"You bitch titted mother fuckers!"

Taylor tried to ignore how the side had just caved in as the van skidded sideways while almost flipping, and that it was only her imagination. Just like Dinah's screaming from the front. "Seventy-eight point four, seventy-eight point four, seventy-eight point four."

A cold tingle seeped into her limbs as each breath she took gurgled and popped. Even the pain felt distant as she absently watched the van thunder around corners, bouncing off other cars. If this was the end, it was surprisingly peaceful. In the corner of her rapidly fading mind, she saw the van skid to a stop across three lanes of traffic as Miles and Rose jumped down.

They ripped away the top of the van as Miles' muscled glory fell through the sky. His long, glossy brown hair streaked behind him as the glowing white crown heralded her savior. A chiseled face expressing a mixed expression of rage and worry.

For her.

Taylor felt Sam's gentle grip that kept her aloft give way to a steel vise that closed around her. She floated out of the van, right over to Miles and Rose. The hoodie and shirt that covered her chest split apart. She couldn't even feel shame through the haze.

Bolts of pain rocked her back into awareness as Miles prodded her chest, far too close to her lacking endowment. Taylor gurgled, trying to cry out, but all that came was a spray of blood. At least the mortification that bubbled up warred with the stars that appeared, as the pain skipped a moment.

"Look at me, Taylor," Rose commanded her, pulling her attention away from her savior and towards her older self.

Taylor's head lolled to the side, meeting cold, dead eyes.

"Let me possess you. You don't want to be awake for this."

Taylor turned back to Miles as she watched a hunting knife, fishing line, fishing hook, gauze, lighter, and a bottle of alcohol float around him. That was all she had to see before she latched onto the slight probe poking through her head. She screamed her agreement as the world faded away, yet she now stood above her floating body.

A dark purple splotch covered the right side of her ribcage. Miles burned the hunting knife in a spray of alcohol as the steaming blade sliced into her skin. Blood rushed out before it stopped somehow. White bits of bone floated out as Taylor watched her own ribcage fall apart before her. She pushed away as muscles pulled back, and her torn lung came into view.

Taylor met her own eyes as a small smile graced her face, and the rest faded away, her mind suspended in an encompassing embrace of warm, soothing energy. It rocked her back and forth in the absolute feeling of safety as her eyes drifted closed, unable and unwilling to resist.