"It would start the same," said Owlette. "We put our fists together. We say, 'PJ Masks, we're on our way. Into the night, to save the day!' But then we lean forward and do a three-way kiss."

Catboy leaned back in his seat in the PJ Seeker. "Half of that would be hot," he said, pointing at Owlette. "The other half"—he pointed at Gekko—"isn't for me."

Gekko said, "You don't know that for sure."

"I'm sure," said Catboy. "Besides which, how is it even supposed to work? You can't fit three heads that close."

"Can't know for sure until you try."

Life with two boyfriends was harder than Owlette thought it would be. She didn't want to take sides or play favorites. She wanted to treat them equally. So she didn't want to pass the basketball to Connor more than Greg, or toss the frisbee to Greg more than Connor. And she didn't want to talk with Catboy too much or cuddle with Gekko too long. She second-guessed everything she did. Having two best friends had been easy. Having two boyfriends was driving her crazy.

The worst part about it, though, was that she knew it was only in her head. Catboy and Gekko never fought over her. If Catboy wanted one thing and Gekko wanted something else, there were no arguments and no raised voices. Even when they disagreed, somehow they worked it out every time.

Like now. Making out with both of them at once would be really hot, no matter what Catboy thought. Two sets of lips on hers would be marvelous. But Catboy said, "Nope," and Gekko shrugged, and she knew it was over.

The PJ Seeker rolled to a stop in front of the museum. "Does anyone else think this is a trap?" said Catboy. "Because I can't shake the feeling that it's a trap."

PJ Robot whirred and beeped. "Me too," said Owlette. "It'll be a surprise either way."

Romeo's Sky Factory hovered overhead. He and Robot were waiting at the top of the museum steps.

"So, if it isn't my PJ Partners!" announced Romeo. "Have you considered my brilliant proposal?"

"Hmm," said Gekko. He was contemplating Romeo's clothes. Romeo had traded his usual lab coat for a business suit. It was navy blue wool, two-button, single-breasted, with a notch lapel and flap pockets. "Double vent, right? … Yeah. Where did you get that tailored?"

Robot said, "I tailored it for Master myself. It took only thirty-seven tries."

Catboy interrupted, "Can we talk about the proposal? I still don't get it. Like, at all."

Romeo said, "Of course you don't. I'm a genius, after all."

A month ago, Romeo had approached the PJ Masks with a business proposal. The thrust was simple: Merchandising. The PJ Masks had never capitalized on their fame. Licensed PJ Masks products would make them rich. They would ship hundreds of thousands of action figures and playsets. PJ Masks costumes would sell out every Halloween. Every backpack and lunchbox in the city would have their pictures. (Owlette thought putting their faces on kids' underwear was a little creepy, but she agreed it would sell. She used to love her Flossy Flash underwear.) Romeo had included plans for coloring books, umbrellas, and even lawn chairs. If they were really popular, they might get their own TV show some day.

But Romeo's plan was even more devious than that. He wanted to turn the PJ Masks into a 501(c)(3) non-profit charitable organization. "Being a do-gooder is a good cause, of course, and there are tax advantages. So you'll all become executives with generous healthcare and retirement benefits. And there will be some executive perks, if you know what I mean. But it's all totally legal."

"I'm not sure I trust a supervillain to tell me what's legal," said Catboy.

"Hmm," said Gekko. He was still looking at Romeo's clothes.

"You're a more valuable property if you have a nemesis," Romeo continued. "But since I'm a supervillain, I need legal protection. So your non-profit will join me and the other supervillains as members of a new limited liability corporation. It'll handle all of our licensing."

Robot said, "Master is very talented at financial skulduggery."

"Don't say that, you babbling buffoon," said Romeo. "You'll implicate me."

"I'm sorry, Master. I do not want to see you convicted of white-collar crime."

"Good," said Romeo. He turned to the PJ masks and took a step down the museum stairs. "Now, do we have a deal?"

Gekko gasped. "Um, no. No way. What were you thinking?"

"Huh?"

Gekko pointed. "Those shoes. They're awful."

"What's wrong with my shoes? And how would you know?"

"I'd know because it's obvious. Look at you! You have a navy suit, blue shirt, and a blue tie with a slight pattern. It's a classic look, boring but inoffensive, like a social studies class. But then you wore light gray sneakers! With neon trim! You're a disaster."

"Says the man in a lizard suit."

"I look completely appropriate for a superhero. Whereas you look like a weapon made by a villainous men's clothing designer."

Owlette interrupted, "Guys? Can we get back to business? There's something I still don't understand."

Gekko said, "I'm sure Romeo's sneakers can explain it to you."

"Gekko! That's enough. Anyway, Romeo," said Owlette, "what I want to know is, what's in it for you?"

"Master has finally found a true home," said Robot. "It is a community of people who are just like him. They are aggressive, greedy, and lack both a moral compass and any sympathy for mankind. They are called Wall Street. Master will use the proceeds from the licensing agreement to start a hedge fund and join their tribe."

Romeo said, "You PJ pests have stopped me for the last time! Once I'm rich, I can buy all of the politicians, and then nobody can stop me! I'll take over the world! Bwahahahaha!"

Catboy said, "That's the first thing I've understood all evening. And you know, it's kind of okay."

"What!" said Owlette. "How can that possibly be okay?"

"How would it be any different from the way the world works now?" Catboy said.

Gekko said, "And if Romeo is rich, he'll be able to afford a fashion consultant. Getting rid of those sneakers will make the world a better place."

"You guys!" said Owlette. "How can you let him do this?"

"At least we get rich, too," said Catboy. "Maybe we'll be able to afford iPhones. Where do we sign?"

Romeo unlatched his briefcase. He removed three pens and held one up. It had an engraved picture of his face. "You can keep these as souvenirs," he said, "to remind you of how rich I've made all of you." Romeo removed three stacks of papers from his briefcase. Robot took the papers and pens and extended his arms down the museum steps.

"Wait!" said Owlette. She snatched the papers out of Robot's hands. "You should never sign anything until you've read every word. PJ Robot!" PJ Robot zipped out of the Seeker and joined the PJ Masks at the base of the museum steps. "Can you read these for us? Fast? And find something wrong with them?"

PJ Robot saluted. He took the contracts in hand and scanned them, beeping and humming. Page after page flicked through his fingers, each one cast aside before the last had reached the ground. As he read, his smile flattened into a line, then reversed itself into a frown. When he finished the last page, he gathered the sheaf of papers into his hands. He raised the papers over his head, and with an electronic cry of victory, ripped the contracts in half.

"No matter," said Romeo, "I'll just have Robot print more copies."

PJ Robot shook his fist at Romeo and jabbered. He began explaining the flaws in the contract; the cheats, the loopholes, the illegalities. But Catboy looked mystified and Gekko looked bored. Romeo grinned.

Suddenly PJ Robot was struck by inspiration. He rifled through the contracts again and pulled out a torn half-sheet of paper. He pointed at it, shoved it in Catboy's and Gekko's faces, and beeped.

"'Morals clause,'" Catboy read. "'Company many terminate Superhero's employment at any time if Superhero's conduct offends public decency or exhibits moral tur—. Moral tur—pi—tude.' What's this mean?"

PJ Robot hummed and gestured at the PJ Masks. "We couldn't date each other any more?" asked Gekko. Beep, click, whir. "One at a time? That's as bad as not at all!"

Chirp, whir! Catboy read, "'As part of Company's investigation into alleged violations of this clause, Company may require Superhero to re-enact any and all alleged violations with Company's designated Agent. Company shall have the exclusive right to determine which re-enactions are required. This clause shall remain in force even after Superhero's resignation or termination.'"

Whirrrrrrrr, click, beep beep! Chirp, beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

"Oh," said Catboy. He looked at the morals clause again. "That's the second thing I've understood. It gives you the right to have sex with our girlfriend." He crumpled the paper in his fist. "Never," he muttered. His face took on a grim look as he dropped the paper to the ground. "Never, ever, ever."

Gekko and Catboy walked up the museum steps, unhurried and deliberate. Owlette said, "Guys? Are you okay?"

Romeo waved his hands and said, "Morals clauses are standard! Everyone in the entertainment industry has one."

Gekko and Catboy's advance was slow and menacing. Their pace announced that they were not showing off or posturing. They had reached an emotional plane beyond mere anger. On that plane, there was no room for excitement or agitation. Every thought in their minds, every fiber of their muscles, and every nerve in their bodies was united in one goal.

"Okay, okay, I'll take that part out! I'll even take out the whole morals clause!" When the superheroes continued up the steps, Romeo hid behind Robot. "Fine! I'll also take out the clauses that steal your money!"

Gekko began, "We don't care about the money. We're not going to use our superhero powers on you—"

"—because we're not going to act like heroes," finished Catboy. He cracked his knuckles.

Robot said, "Master, I am scared."

"Robot! Get us out of here!" yelled Romeo. He clung to Robot's legs while Robot extended his arms to the museum roof and lifted himself out of the PJ Masks' reach.

Owlette ran up behind Catboy and Gekko. "What is wrong with you two? Don't ever do that again!" she said.

Robot and Romeo flew toward the Sky Factory. Gekko said, "PJ Robot. The sneakers."

PJ Robot blasted a laser into the air. High above them, Romeo howled. A pair of flaming gray sneakers fell from the sky.

"Hey!" said Owlette. "Are you even listening to me? You can't go around threatening people like that!"

Catboy grabbed one of Owlette's hands and one of Gekko's. "I'll do anything for you," he said.

"We're supposed to be the good guys, and you're acting like a street thug!"

Gekko grabbed Owlette's other hand. "Me too."

Owlette shouted, "I am not playing with you—" At that moment, Catboy and Gekko leaned forward and locked their lips with hers. The sudden kiss startled Owlette, who squealed, "Mmmph!"

The hot press of their mouths shocked Owlette into silence. Less than an hour ago, she had given up on ever getting a three-way kiss. Now they stood hand in hand in hand, lips to lips to lips. The raw power behind the kiss and the overwhelming pleasure of her senses almost knocked her backwards. Then the kiss softened, and two pairs of tender lips caressed hers with sweet care and unyielding devotion.

Owlette, lost in rapture, forgot to breathe. She suddenly broke away and gasped for air. By the time she had stopped panting, the moment had passed. "Sorry," she said.

"It's better than I thought it would be," said Catboy.

"I didn't know where to put my nose, though," said Gekko.

Catboy and Gekko let go of Owlette's hands and embraced her and each other. "Wait a sec," said Owlette. "I'm still angry at both of you."

"We know," they said.

Owlette planned to stay angry with them for at least a couple of days. She couldn't let them get away with acting like that. Kissing her didn't make up for it at all. It was a dumb appeal to her emotions and she wasn't going to let it influence her, not even a bit.

But it had been marvelous.