Chapter One Hundred Eighty Four
...
Kid had slept like a log, his power not even giving a radar beep over the course of the night. Buddy had apparently slept well too, as Kid had woken up to Buddy's body and mouth covering his. He'd spent far too much time riling Kid up with anticipation for their date with Alice later that day, both of them eager to see Lottie's infamous ass kicker dress and thoroughly hoping it did as advertised.
Now that he wasn't as distracted, Kid was far too aware of the fact that he knew where Jetstream, the Commander, and Airborne were without them being in the immediate vicinity. He wasn't entirely sure how or when they'd been considered a threat to his survival instinct power, but it was another question to add to the growing list, and he wasn't planning on letting Connor leave without answers.
Connor sighed heavily and held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "I'll answer what I can, but it's probably best to get the kids on the phone. Let me call them, okay?" Before he could pick up his phone, it started ringing loudly. Connor hurried to answer. "Hello, darling. I thought you were working this morning?"
"Hi, Connor. I was, but Honey's here and wants to use my computer to do a video call with you and the guys. So... I wanted to warn you in case you were getting all sweaty in the gym without me," Victor said with a teasing lilt.
"No, we're just talking at the moment. I appreciate the warning though; is she - oh, never mind, that's her now," Connor said, accepting the video call from Victor, raising an eyebrow at Honey on the screen. "We were having a conversation, Honey."
"Oh, believe me, I know. I need to see everyone, can you get them all into the Security office with you?"
"Sure, I think they're heading in for a shift change anyway," Connor said as Champ and Ex walked in.
"Killer's in the gym with Baby. Oh, and get Sport out of Ammie's bakery, would you?"
Kid hurried from the Security office to get Baby and Killer from the gym, and Sport away from his girlfriend. He returned with them in time to hear Champ and Ex arguing over Sport's ability to flirt.
Champ snickered. "Sport's version of flirting's probably gonna scare Ammie away, too."
"Fuck you, too," Sport said, flipping Champ the bird.
"Oh, please, you haven't flirted in years, Champ, so you can shut the hell up," Ex said, rolling his eyes. "And don't you glare at me, Killer; he didn't even flirt with you properly at the start. What was it that he said? Want to bone? Like, mwah, perfection, right there," he said, doing a chef's kiss, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Not everyone can flirt like you, Ex," Champ said.
"Guys? Can you all shut up? I've got the start of a migraine and do not have the time nor the patience to listen to your bickering," Honey said firmly.
"All right, we're all here and ready, Honey," Connor said, waving at Champ and Ex to get on opposite sides of the room to stop their stupid argument.
"Connect the phone to the screen, would you?"
"Even with the power increase, that's not how my power works," Champ said with a frown.
"I know; I wasn't talking to you," she replied. "Terrence, you need more practice at a distance. See if you can access my puppy cam for Ari after this, okay?"
"Fine, but only 'cause I get to see puppies," he said, Honey's face appearing on one of the large screens in the Security office. "Can you see Honey now?"
"Yes. Why are you with Victor?" Connor asked curiously.
"I'm not, he's with us," Terrence said, snickering.
Layla stepped into the frame and waved, smiling. "Hi, guys. Sorry we couldn't be there; it's a business day for the Hive, and I needed a lawyer present; Victor very kindly offered to help us by working in the Hive's dining area."
"Victor had to stop three citizens from trying to kill me," Craig called out cheerfully in the background.
"It only would've been two if you hadn't tried to take that last jar of honey," Victor called back.
"Nah, it was gonna happen no matter what."
"Stay on topic, please. We only have a short window of time before someone tries to rob Gemstone's," Honey said. "Sport, grab him," she said, even as Jewel swore in the background and ran out of the Hive for her car.
Ex headed for the door, and Sport grabbed him around the waist to stop him. Ex fought against his grip wildly, even though Sport's arm felt like a steel bar across his body. "Like hell they will! Gemma's in there! Let me go, Sport!"
"Sit. The. Fuck. Down," Honey snapped. "We are running out of time, you're closer to Gemma now, so you can thank me for that later," she said. "Kid, make it quick. You've got time for one question now."
It felt like every question Kid had thought of fled his mind, even as Ex cursed a blue streak and continued to fight against Sport, Baby looking like he was trying to work out how to get past Sport's larger frame and over to Gemstone's. "I... uh... Oh. Why are Jetstream, the Commander, and Airborne on my radar?"
"This could've been a fucking text message," Champ muttered, though he looked concerned over Ex and Baby's tense forms, his own tension ratcheting up in response.
"They're a threat to our goals and plans," Layla answered Kid, calm and simple.
"Is that all that's on your radar, Kid?" Connor asked curiously.
Kid frowned at him. "What other threats are there?"
Connor thought of a seed in a dark tinted car, and the threat the Super Bureau had issued to Hyacinth over the court cases she and Victor were still reviewing and repealing, and how the gun he'd made in the Army was out towards Montana and how he suspected it was the same place with the giant building where people were being kidnapped and experimented on. He tried to think of a way to explain the growing dread in his stomach that something was going to go wrong and the Super Bureau would be at the centre of it, but he couldn't find the words.
"Ex, Baby, go," Honey said, Sport letting Ex go and both men running out of the security room without hesitation.
"Can we see what happens?" Layla asked curiously, even as the rest of the Special Forces group ran out to follow them.
"Sure, let me change the camera angle. It's just... ah, there," Terrence murmured, their screen showing the interior of Gemstone's.
Gemma was being held at gunpoint, her hands gripping the edge of the counter and her eyes wide.
"Sport, open the door! Fuck, smash it if you have to!" Ex snapped.
"You got it, Ex," Sport said, readying himself for the impact.
Before he could do anything, Gemma pressed a button under the counter and ducked down low. A diamond barrier slammed into place, blocking them from entering, though they hardly noticed. Instead, they all stared in varying levels of incomprehension at the scene before them. Even the would-be thief's screams weren't enough to distract from Gemstone's apparent security system.
"Is that rain or are those really diamonds?" Baby asked incredulously.
Ex watched the diamonds falling from the roof as if they were specifically targeting the thief, and felt nothing but relief on realising that Gemma wasn't getting hurt.
"Um, guys? Should we do something before that guy gets shredded to literal pieces?" Kid asked hesitantly.
"You're right; the blood stains are going to be a bitch to clean," Killer muttered.
Kid hadn't meant that, but decided not to correct him, and sighed. "I'll call the ambulance."
...
Will walked into the bar, standing up as tall as he could and hoping he wouldn't nervously sweat the fake moustache off his upper lip. He was underage and a super so that was already nerve-wracking enough, but Will was also walking into a bar that was rumoured to cater to supervillains. He clenched his hands into tight fists as he entered the establishment, expecting to be attacked in an instant. No one even glanced in his direction, though there weren't many people in the bar to look at him anyway.
Breathing a small and shaky sigh of relief, Will walked over the threshold and to the bar. He sat on one of the stools that was closer to the door so he could get out if things went wrong or someone recognised him. He'd felt so much more confident about this plan when he'd told Larry, but now that he was here, it was terrifying!
The bartender set down the glass he'd been cleaning, and walked over to Will's stool, surprisingly short behind the bar. "What can I getcha?"
Will had seen this in a tonne of movies, so he knew exactly what to say. "I'll have a shot," he said in his deepest voice.
"A shot of what?" the bartender asked, frowning.
Apparently movies lied.
"I'll take this one, Hans. Go on, you're meant to be on your break now, anyway," a man said, resting a hand on the bartender's shoulder.
The older man sighed. "All right, Guy. This one wants a shot; hasn't said what kind, though," he added with another frown, heading away and thankfully giving Will a moment's reprieve.
"Thanks for that, I - "
"Don't thank me for anything, Airborne; you're just lucky Hans is blind as a bat. Your moustache is drooping so you might as well take that piece of fluff off; it's unflattering you and insulting me," Guy added, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh. Oh, you know who I am?" he asked, tensing and wondering if he had to fight a bartender; could bartenders be evil?!
"I watch the news, like most people. Your secret identity was revealed?" Guy prompted when he just got a confused look in return.
"Oh. Right. That's... that's what the moustache was for," Will muttered, tearing it off and shoving it in his pocket, hoping his eyes weren't watering like he thought they were.
Guy stifled a snort of amusement, and turned to refill the peanut bowl to give Airborne a moment. "So why are you in a bar in the middle of the day?"
Will had a plan: he was going to recruit a villain to fight against himself and Earthstone, he and Earthstone would kick the villain's ass, then they'd fight each other, and they'd get heaps of villains wanting to prove themselves. Even the Mayor's new (and unused) booking system would be overrun with requests! It was ingenious, and all he needed to do to activate his brilliant plan was find a villain.
He glanced around the bar, not recognising any of the other patrons and not entirely sure how to find out someone's alter ego without asking them and putting himself in possible danger at the same time. Realising that the bartender likely knew everyone who frequented the establishment, he looked at the man closer. He was tall with his muscles and shoulders highlighted by a tight black shirt, an undercut that accentuated his man-bun, and had broad hands with thick fingers. Not that Will cared about broad hands or thick fingers, of course.
Will forced himself to stop looking directly at the bartender. "I'm here to ask for your assistance, citizen. I need to find a villain, and - "
"Nope," Guy said, setting the peanut bowl down in front of Airborne.
Will's head snapped back to the bartender immediately, completely ignoring everything other than that one word response. He hadn't even heard how the villain would be defeated and the town would be safe and he'd be paid for his information! "Wait, what? But - "
"Do you know what happens to me if I betray a client's alter ego? Do you even care? Better yet, did you even consider the implications for anyone other than yourself?"
Will opened and closed his mouth, at a complete loss for words.
"And the fact that you came in here just like your mother did, only for Rowan and Gerry to die like that - " Guy cut off, drawing in a shuddering breath.
Will frowned. "Wait, who? I don't even know who Rowan or Gerry are; what does my mother have to do with them dying?!"
"Death Row and Getim, as they've been remembered in the media, were paid by none other than Jetstream herself to fight you. She sat exactly where you're sitting - a great vantage point and easy escape, should things go south, right? - and promised she'd pay them to fight you, she'd make sure they had enough money to retire comfortably, and could afford the doctors they needed. Instead, they're both dead. This is a bar, not a church, and I've got receipts, Airborne," Guy said, pointing up at the camera in the corner that was pointed directly at the door and Will's current seat.
Will blinked, eyes wide and mouth dry in shock. "I didn't know."
He remembered Death Row surrendering, his hands raised and a look on his face like this whole thing was a joke and only they knew the punchline, but... he hadn't known. He hadn't been told, he'd thought it was real, but instead... His mother had organised it all behind his back! His first real fight hadn't even been a real fight!
"You... you didn't?" Guy asked, sounding as horrified as Will felt.
"No! I never would've fought them if I'd known it was a setup!" he snapped, leaving the bar before anyone could learn the truth.
Will couldn't believe that his mother had done this; it was like she didn't trust him to fight a villain all on his own!
...
Victor watched as Craig made his way through the pantry like it was a shopping aisle, using an extra pair of arms to grab packets of chips and popcorn, taking an apple and kiwi fruit, and then a carrot and celery sticks, and finally tucking a whole jar of peanut butter into the crook of his arm as well. Victor wasn't sure whether he was impressed or horrified.
"Oh, hey, Vic. What're you doing?" Craig asked around the apple in his mouth.
"I was going to start preparing dinner. Should I bother?" he asked curiously, nodding to the miniature feast Craig had in his arms.
"Yes, definitely! This is just a snack."
"That's at least four snacks. Maybe six," Victor replied, raising an eyebrow as Craig took a large and obnoxious bite out of the carrot.
He ignored the swirl of colours and waited for Craig's response instead.
Craig shrugged. "I'm hungry and I'm still a growing teen. Besides, I'll work it all off. Ethan's put an exercise routine on my timetable, can you believe it? I have to jog, Victor!"
Victor frowned. "When are you exercising? You haven't left the house since we got back from the Hive."
"I'm starting later today. Jewel's coming over to help me study, then Beau's going to go jogging with me. I'm still deciding if I should just shift and hide under my bed instead," Craig said, taking another bite of the carrot.
"You didn't tell me Jewel was coming over, or Beau for that matter," Victor said.
Craig winced. "Oops. Can they come over? I can reschedule?"
"It's fine, Craig. Some advanced warning would've been nice. I could've gone out with Elijah and Elliot to give you some time to yourselves," he added.
"Oh, I didn't think of it like that. Jewel and Beau have a Business assignment due next week so they wanted to study together, and I've got a Communications essay due on Monday, so Jewel offered to read over what I've done so far."
"What about Grant?"
"He's working with the Mad Scientist for extra credit and won't be able to make it," Craig said with a pout.
Victor frowned. "What does he do with the Mad Scientist?"
"Gets experimented on, for the most part. Well, they test his power and see if it can be extracted by blood or other means; Grant can draw his own blood out with a syringe. It's creepy just saying it," he said, wrinkling his nose.
"How does that work with the whole power boost thing from Layla and Warren?" Victor asked curiously.
Craig frowned and then shrugged. "No idea."
"Are Jewel and Beau staying the night?"
"Nah, Beau's got to go to his dorm before curfew. Jewel does too, but she doesn't like her roommate. Apparently, she's a judgemental bitch. Jewel's words, not mine."
"Do I dare ask why?" Victor asked with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"She doesn't like supers."
"What?" Victor hadn't expected that answer.
"I know, right?" Craig scoffed, taking another large bite of his carrot.
"Did she say why?" Victor asked, curious and morbidly fascinated; how could a complete stranger hate someone - his children - for no reason, for something they'd been born with, for something they had no control over or say in?
"It's unnatural, apparently. She's, like, super religious, but doesn't believe in Super God or Super Jesus? I don't know, I just know that Jewel doesn't like being in the dorm when she's there. Hey, you 'kay, man?"
Victor was surprised by Craig's question, then realised his hands were clenched tightly, his breath rattling in his chest. As he looked at his hands, he saw a flickering of red rage. It wasn't from Craig - brown worry and chartreuse concern mostly covering him - but seemed to have come from Victor himself.
He'd never been able to see his own colours before, but now he could see deep red rage at a complete stranger for hating his sons, his lover, his family and friends, himself, just for having powers; why was that emotion strong enough for him to finally see?
Maybe it was anger from Cara and Greta mixing with a pure deep-seated rage that everyone he loved could be hated so instantly and fully for no god damned reason, but whatever it was, the red was there, dark like blood. As he watched, the colour stretched out towards Craig. Horrified at what it might do - what he might do - Victor forced himself to think of something else, to pull the emotion back, to stop feeling such an encompassing feeling.
Think of Elijah and Elliot, of Ry and Craig, of his mother, of Connor. Think of love, think of happiness, think of... anything else. Please, let it work, Victor thought desperately, mere millimetres before the colour could touch Craig.
Pink flowed out, ensnaring red, drowning it until it was all he could see, and even Craig's worry and concerned colours were muted and bathed in a pink tint. Forcing himself to breathe, just like Connor had taught him, Victor watched as the pink ebbed and flowed, gently making its way back to him, the colour flickering once more before it disappeared entirely. Craig's colours were there again, darker brown and greener chartreuse, Victor's own colours gone as if they hadn't been there to start with.
Victor exhaled slowly, letting out a shaky breath. "I'm fine, Craig."
Craig rolled his eyes. "That was a huge-ass lie in neon lights. Seriously, man; what's going on?" he asked, setting the food down on the kitchen bench and stepping forward to put a hand on Victor's shoulder.
The movement made Craig's crop top slide over his shoulder and expose his brand. Victor frowned at the sight of it; he still wasn't entirely sure what it did or how he'd gotten it, but he did know it helped Craig control his power. At least, he thought it did.
"Does that help you control your power?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, it's definitely helped my power. I mean, it increased it, but I also have more control, but that's also 'cause we practise, like, every day. Also, why are you asking? Are you avoiding the question?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.
"No! I think... I think I need one," Victor admitted.
Craig tilted his head curiously, then nodded. "Okay, I'll call Lay and Warren."
...
Jewel smirked as Beau looked over to her, her mini skirt riding up her thigh as she shifted gears. "You're meant to be looking for the street, babe."
"Uhh... right. The street. Fuck," Beau groaned, turning to look out the windscreen once more. "You're loving this, aren't you?"
Jewel laughed, the sound like diamonds tinkling together. "Every fucking second, Beau baby. Take a photo if you want," she said, winking when he looked at her abruptly. "Just remember to send it to Grant and Craig on private chat this time."
"I think Adam might actually kill me if I don't."
"Probably. Poor guy's already had to deal with so much stuff. Did you know Craig's got a calendar counting down to March 1st?"
"Oh, is that what it is? I thought it was an advent calendar for Christmas," Beau said distractedly, making sure he had the right lighting before taking a photo to send to Craig and Grant.
"No, but he'll probably get one of those around Thanksgiving, too."
Beau grinned. "There's adult versions of those, y'know."
"With what, flavoured condoms for each day?" Jewel asked incredulously, laughing at the thought.
"Probably for a few days. I think there's some with edible underwear, kinky dice, that sort of thing."
"I'll have to ask Darla if she's going to get any in stock. That'll be a fun present for my boys."
Beau grinned, feeling a blush across his cheeks at being called one of her boys. God, he was so lucky to be with them. His phone vibrated in his hand and he looked at the screen as Jewel waited at a traffic light. "Grant messaged. He's horny and stuck with the Mad Scientist, so he's extra annoyed. Oh, and he's decided he's making this photo his home screen picture."
"Aww, I like the one he has. Craig looks gorgeous."
"Apparently it's your month to be on the home screen and I get next month. Hmm, I'll have to find a good photo."
Jewel grinned. "I'm going to send him the one where you've got whipped cream on your nose. You looked so cute!"
Beau rolled his eyes. "Cute isn't what I aim for, babe."
"Too bad, you are," Jewel quipped. "Oh, that's the street, isn't it?"
"Shit, yes, turn! It's one-fifteen, I think?"
"Pretty sure it is; there's a moving truck at the front. And there's Warren's car behind it. Huh, did you know they were coming?"
Beau shook his head. "It's not in the group chat. Craig hasn't replied to the photo of you, either. Think something's wrong?" he asked, a lump of fear lodging in his chest, even as his heart jumped into his throat at the thought.
"Fuck, I hope not," Jewel said, hurrying to park in the driveway.
Beau had already taken his belt off and was starting to open the passenger door before the car ignition was turned off, nearly running for the front door. "Craig?!" he called loudly, hating how his voice cracked.
"Beau? Hey, you're early, I wasn't... Are you okay?" Craig asked, frowning at his boyfriend from the second storey landing. He spatially shifted the short distance, gathering Beau into a firm hug. "Hey, I'm okay. Nothing bad happened, I promise."
Beau couldn't bring himself to respond just yet, burying his head in the crook of Craig's neck and hugging him tighter still. Craig crooned softly, carding his fingers through Beau's hair until he relaxed and his shoulders dropped.
"Feeling better, babe?" Jewel asked, pressing a kiss between Beau's shoulder blades as he and Craig continued to hug.
"Mmm. Worried me."
"You thought I'd been taken, like Cara and Greta took Victor," Craig murmured, continuing to stroke Beau's hair.
The fear sounded so stupid when it was said aloud, but Beau could only nod.
"That's why we've got the brands, Beau baby. Well, one reason," Jewel amended. "No one would be taken for long, and if they are taken, then we'll get them back and kill whoever was stupid enough to take them. Okay?"
"Okay. You promise you're okay, Craig?"
Craig nodded, pulling away from their hug so he could kiss Beau. "Promise. Victor wanted a brand, that's all."
"Oh," Beau said, wincing and feeling stupid at his reaction to something so trivial.
"Hey, don't feel like that. I'm glad you were worried about Craig," Victor said from the top of the staircase, making his way downstairs with one hand on the railing and the other holding Elijah close.
Warren and Layla were following him, Warren entertaining Elliot by spinning fireballs on his free palm. Elliot giggled and reached for the flames, eyes wide and happy.
"If you burn this house down after I just got a mortgage for it, I will be very pissed off, Warren," Victor said lightly over his shoulder.
Warren snorted. "I'm not stupid, Victor. Ace, add him to the group chat?"
"Actually, I'd prefer to be kept off that. Far too much incriminating evidence, I'm sure."
"Does a group text for anything major work for you instead?" Layla asked.
"Much preferred, thank you. The internet reception in the courts is horrible, bordering on cruel, but I can get a bar or two of reception for text messages."
"Yeah, don't worry about that. I've hooked you into satellite comms; you're getting full reception no matter where you are, dude," Adam's voice came from their speakers.
"Aww, you love him," Craig said with a grin, Victor belatedly remembering their conversation about love languages and how Adam showed his love through technology.
"He took your ass in when he didn't have to, 'course I do. Duh."
Craig snickered and pressed a smacking kiss to Elijah's cheek. "Don't worry, Eli; Ace loves you, too. You're both going to be spoiled and decked out on your next birthday, hey?"
"I've already ordered iPads for them, so no one else is allowed to," Adam said. "And Zach's designing the covers, so look at the voting poll when you have a chance."
"Ooh, awesome," Craig said.
"Are you sure you're okay, Beau?" Layla asked softly, resting a hand on his branded shoulder gently.
Warmth flowed through him, chasing away the cold fear that had settled in his spine and the pit of his stomach, and he nodded. "Better now. I jumped to conclusions."
"I don't blame you; we're still all recovering from that," Layla admitted. "Can I hug you?"
"Yeah, sure."
She smiled and hugged him firmly, more of that warmth flowing through him until Beau was warm from tip to toe.
"Thanks, Layla."
"No problem," she said, smiling again. "Jewel, your turn?"
"Thanks, Lay," Jewel said, curling her arms around Layla's shoulders.
"Feel free to message the group next time, it might help with the conclusion jumping," Warren said, offering Elliot to Beau, who took him with a guilty smile.
Jesus, he hadn't even thought of it, and he'd even had his phone in his hands! Super God damn it.
"Hey, Beau. You're okay. Everyone makes mistakes, and this one was one made out of love, not stupidity. Now, come help me organise dinner while Craig and Jewel start studying. Dining room, you two," Victor added.
"Yes, Victor," they chorused.
"Are you coming to the Paper Lantern with me, hippie? Mrs. Woo still doesn't believe I was sick," Warren said, frowning.
"I have to go to work; the Mayor's fully recovered from his injuries from the Commander and the medically-induced coma, so he's booking media appointments again, and I need to look over the questions to approve before Monday's first interview," Layla said as they called out their goodbyes and headed out to Warren's Turbine. "Why doesn't Mrs. Woo believe you were sick?"
"She knows I'm a super and thinks the super flu was an excuse to stay home with you. I mean, she isn't entirely wrong since we did spend all of that time together, but still... I was hoping you'd tell her it was the truth and save me," he said, wincing.
"Say 'save me' three times loudly, and a Stronghold appears," Layla said with a laugh.
"Ugh, don't even joke about that. Now I really do feel sick."
"Mrs. Woo might believe you now," she teased.
Warren rolled his eyes and got into his car, turning on the ignition to drive them both to work. "What are you getting the twins for their birthday?"
"I'm thinking of some sort of plant to keep them safe until they can be branded. I don't feel comfortable branding them now since they're only babies, and their power hasn't fully matured yet. It would be like chopping a rose stalk before it's had a chance to bloom."
Warren was silent for a moment as he concentrated on merging with the flow of traffic. "You mean like a rosebud?"
Layla glared half-heartedly. "Well, yes. But also, no. And don't bring rosebuds up, because I will rant."
He grinned broadly. "Go ahead, hippie. I haven't heard you rant since... Prince Charming, I think."
"How remiss of me," Layla said, but then grinned and started to rant about rosebuds and destroying perfectly good roses for nothing more than aesthetic reasons.
...
Mrs. Woo narrowed her eyes at Warren as he walked into the kitchen. "You're late."
"I'm ten minutes early," Warren said, looking at the clock above the door.
"Late for your last two weeks of shifts!"
"I told you I was sick, Mrs. Woo. Layla had the super flu, too."
She reached up, narrowing her eyes again, grabbing his chin and turning his head from side to side. "Hmmm. You've never been sick before." Mrs. Woo let go of his chin and stepped back, taking two jars off the bench and putting them in his hands. "One for Layla, one for you. Take one scoop in boiling water at night before bed, okay?"
"What is it?" Warren asked, looking at the jars of powder curiously.
"Never mind, you just drink it."
"I'm not going to drink random powder without knowing what it is," he said, frowning.
She muttered to herself under her breath in rapid Mandarin, and Warren caught enough words to know she still didn't believe him. "Promise you will drink them."
"I'm fine now, Mrs. Woo, honest. We've got customers," he said, nodding through to the restaurant as the door opened and people walked in.
Reluctant to leave him without getting a promise that he'd drink the powders, Mrs. Woo sighed and then went through the kitchen doors to the restaurant, greeting the customers brightly.
Warren tucked the jars away in his bag and then readied for his shift.
"Hey, you're back! Man, it's been seriously busy without you, but thanks for the extra moolah," Ronnie said with a grin as he walked into the kitchen, placing the tray of dirty dishes on the bench and starting to undo his apron.
"Since when do you wear a button-up shirt to work?" Warren asked, frowning.
"Mei Ling bought it for me. I have to go to court and she wanted me to look nice. I've managed to keep it clean for the whole shift, how 'bout that?" Ronnie said, grinning.
"Better get going before you jinx it. Good luck at your court thing."
Ronnie looked surprised for a split second, then nodded. "Thanks, Warren. See you tomorrow for the Saturday shift."
"Order for special fried rice, sesame noodles, and peanut stir fry with extra sauce," Mrs. Woo called out, gently pushing Ronnie towards the door. "Mei Ling is busy, you have to go or you'll be late. Go, go."
"Right. Thanks, Mrs. Woo. Bye!"
Honestly, if Kim made a joke that evening, Warren might think they were all pod people.
...
Josie clenched her fist on seeing yet another magazine article about her so-called demise. They were saying how she needed to hang up her cape and retire, which was utterly ridiculous. She was completely healed and now that her power was back and she was out of hospital, Josie didn't even need the neck brace. It was just a precaution!
"Steve!"
"Yes, dear? Are you all right? Can I get anything for you?"
"When's our next scheduled fight? We need to show these... these vultures that we're not dead yet!" Josie snapped, throwing the paper onto the side table.
Steve frowned. "They've all been cancelled. I didn't want to take the risk of you hurting yourself and the Super Bureau said - "
"I don't care what they said, Steve! Un-cancel all of the fights! Where's my phone? I'll call myself," Josie muttered when she saw Steve hesitate. "I know my own body and I know when I can fight."
Steve picked up the paper to reveal her phone, but placed his hand on hers as she reached for it. "Josie, are you sure, dear? You're not just doing this to spite them, are you? I won't fight if you're not a hundred percent better."
Josie's nostrils flared at his words, his pitying tone making her stomach roll and her throat tighten. "So not only do I have to deal with those buzzards questioning my abilities, but now I have to deal with you - my own husband - questioning me, too? I'm going to fight, Steve, and whether it's against you or a villain is up to you," she snapped.
Steve withdrew his hand immediately. "All right, dear. If you're sure."
"Oh, I'm sure, all right!" Josie said, dialling the number for the Mayor's office.
"Good afternoon, the Mayor's office, this is Layla."
"Oh, good. I want to know when our next fight is and who it's against. Steve made a mistake and cancelled the fights."
"Hello, Jetstream. I'm surprised to hear from you so soon. Are you sure it was a mistake? The Mayor said to cancel them after one of the Super Bureau agents came - "
"Which one?"
"Pardon?"
"Which agent?" Josie demanded; she didn't know who had dared to interfere with her work, but they would be fired by the end of the week!
"I don't know," Layla admitted, frowning at her own admission. "The Mayor introduced me to them, but they didn't give me their name in return, which was quite rude, really. I didn't realise it at the time. I can check with the Mayor if - "
"What did they look like?"
Layla bit her tongue as Josie interrupted her yet again, and inhaled slowly until she could unclench her jaw. "They were tall. Black suit, black glasses, and blonde hair. Maybe it was white?"
"Mr. A," Josie breathed, shuddering.
Josie ignored Layla's response and let the girl prattle on as she thought about what to do. Going against Mr. A was never a good idea, but she really needed to show Maxville, the reporters, and the world that she wasn't weak, that she was strong enough to fight, and more importantly, strong enough to win.
" - said that it was best to cancel the upcoming fights and you could fight again after you'd been assessed. I didn't know that the Super Bureau assessed yourself and the Commander; is it a yearly appointment or do you only do it after big fights like the one with - "
"Very well. I'll call you once I've passed the assessment," Josie said, hanging up without waiting for a response.
"Josie? Dear, what happened? You were on the phone for a long time. Do we have a fight scheduled?" Steve asked.
"Not yet; Mr. A wants me assessed before I return to fighting villains."
"Oh. Yes, he did mention something about that at the hospital. I... I meant to tell you, I just, uh, didn't want to stress you," Steve admitted, swallowing hard.
"You knew Mr. A wanted an assessment and you still let me call the Mayor? What if the Mayor had picked up? I would have looked like an idiot!"
"Well, you just got released from hospital, dear, I don't think he would have thought you were an idiot, just... uh, that is, never mind. I've finished cooking your lunch. Would you like something to eat?"
Josie had been subjected to Steve's cooking three times a day every day for the last week; she was well and truly sick of soup. "Is it soup again?"
"Yes. The doctors said you needed foods that didn't require much chewing. They weren't sure how long it would take for your jaw to fully heal."
"I know that, Steve. I was there in the room when they said that! It's been a week, my jaw is fine now! I'm sick of soup."
Steve looked crestfallen. "It's tomato, your favourite. I can make you a grilled cheese to go with it?" he added hopefully.
Josie huffed and then sighed, relenting and her arms falling by her side. "Fine, but use the low-fat cheese; I don't want the reporters commenting on my weight when I can fight again."
"Of course, dear."
As Steve left, Josie's phone rang, and she felt a warring sense of relief and concern as she saw Mr. A's name on her screen. She reached to answer it, her body hovering off the mattress. "Yes, Mr. A?"
"You sound much better, Jetstream. Good, that means you can come in for your assessment early."
"How early?"
"Now."
...
End of the hundred-and-eighty-fourth chapter.
Thanks for reading!