Down the Rabbit Hole
Her coffee is waiting on his table, instead of at the pickup counter like she specified. It's something that she picks up as soon as she walks in, but idles at the door, looking to the cashier and then back to his table as dread slowly pools in her stomach.
"Get it." Eraserhead's voice is steady and sure in her ear, but that doesn't help the feeling that their cover is blown.
She ambles towards him, letting her eyebrows knit together in confusion as she slides up to the table, one hand reaching for her drink while the other drifts back, ready to pull out a support item.
He looks up, green eyes sparking with glee as a smile splits his face. "Miss Uravity." He greets, "I hope you didn't mind me paying for your coffee, I know pulling a stakeout on someone like me can be exhausting."
She freezes, words caught in her throat, hands frozen in the air as The Rabbit looks back down at his laptop, fingers quickly typing out something else as he works. Then he jerks, grin returning as he fumbles with his bag.
"Oh, since you were here, and I already have Eraserhead's autograph, I was hoping that I could maybe get yours too?" He fumbles with the leather messenger bag, searching through the compartments for some time before coming up with a thick sketchbook.
He thrusts it out to her like some sort of fanboy instead of an international villain that manages more money with four keystrokes than she'll see in her entire career.
"Take a seat." Eraserhead reminds her, and she drops into the seat in front of The Rabbit near boneless.
He slides the book across the table to her, along with a quill pen and her ordered coffee.
"Put him off."
"Why do you think you're being watched by us?" She asks, tentatively picking up the book and paging through it.
There are dozens of sketches, the book mostly filled. She recognizes almost all of them, but there are only a handful that have signatures or autographs next to The Rabbit's signature at the bottom. Red Riot, Froppy, Pinky and Cellophane are among the ones that have signatures, and she knows for a fact they've all had close contact with The Rabbit, either by coincidence, or by stakeout like her.
Her page is in the back, a short list of notes beside a sketch of her both in and out of costume. She purses her lips, reading through them as he types. He's made note of her coffee order, along with what looks to be her normal mannerisms.
"Do I really clasp my hands together that much?" The thought drifts out before she catches herself, and she slaps the notebook down and glares at him.
He doesn't look up from the laptop screen, and she can see the reflection of an email in the green orbs. "Not as much as when you first started." He replies. "I think it's a nervous tick, like right now."
She flinches, taking her hands out from under the table and putting them flat on the table.
He finishes typing, lips moving as he reads over the email then taps twice. He shuts the laptop, putting it away in his bag before looking over at the open notebook.
Red curls up his neck, and he opens his mouth and shuts it before turning away. One hand comes up, and she realizes he's wearing a tight pair of gloves, before he curls his fingers through his green hair and picks at his neck.
"Oh I uh-you-" He purses his lips, looking back down to the floor. "I forgot I did some notes there with yours."
"My coffee order, favorite foods, costume color preference?" She asks.
"I did a better analysis in my real notebook, but – "he freezes, then bites his own lip. "Right." He swallows and cracks his neck. "So."
"Pressure him." Eraser murmurs. "The email."
"Who were you emailing?"
"Contact in Osaka. And another one in the States." He explains. "There are certain shipments and businesses that I don't tolerate, and make a point to increase awareness of."
"Such as?"
"Human trafficking. Underaged drugs distribution." He replies. "I do try to tip you heroes off to those activities." He purses his lips. "Well. The heroes that actually matter I suppose."
Uravity has an inkling of what he means. Red Riot had a few mysterious communications about a local drug operation while visiting the countryside, despite another local hero- Bullseye, already running an investigation into the ring.
Red Riot wrapped the investigation up with the relayed information, resulting in a quick bust, and an easy conviction for all involved parties.
"Why help us?"
He smiles. "It's good business."
"Why help only a select number of heroes?" She furthers.
His eyes narrow, then he hums, reaching down and grabbing his bag. "Walk with me." He instructs, slinging the leather bag over his shoulder and getting up.
He doesn't wait for her, but she follows, him out and down the street. The autumn weather is coming in full force, and she tugs at the sleeves of her shift, wishing she'd worn a thicker seater to stave off the cold.
"Eraserhead should be able to keep up, right?" Rabbit asks, glancing around before settling his gaze on one window, narrowing his eyes before smiling. "Apartment B-2 across the street has been vacant for about three weeks. I suspect he already knows the light in the bathroom is buggy."
"We replaced the lightbulb two days in." She informs. "Since you seem to know who's all on this stakeout, why bother sitting in that coffeeshop."
He glanced back at her, "Well I wanted to meet one of my favorite heroes of course."
"He's flirting." Eraserhead growls.
"I am." Rabbit assures, and she freezes.
"How long have you had our comms?"
"Since the day you scrambled up the channels." He scratches one of his ears, then pulls out an earwig of his own. "Though I have to admit, I don't appreciate you calling my hair broccoli shaped."
Now it's her turn to blush, and she can feel the heat rush through her cheeks even as she tries to stifle it.
"Pull out, we've been compromised." Eraserhead snarls, and in the background, she can hear him furiously packing up all the equipment they've been using.
"Please don't. I was going to treat you to lunch." He looks genuinely off put, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips as he adjusts the straps on his bag. "And I still need to get your autograph."
She takes a step back, swallowing the fear climbing up her throat. One step turns into two, and then she's racing down the sidewalk, her quirk churning her stomach as she launches herself up into the air.
"You know you look like an angel when you do that." His voice chimes through their comm just before she pulls the earwig out.