[A/N: It's been a long while, yeah? Anyway, Please leave reviews, I would love to know what you guys think of the story so far!]
BECA GLARED at her drink under the lowered lights of the bar. The color a deep unforgiving amber that was frothed with a layer of bubbles along the edge. It wasn't that she hated the brand of beer or even the mostly dirty glass that it settled in. She just didn't want to look anywhere else. If she looked anywhere but her drink- then it would break the illusion.
The illusion that Chloe Beale wasn't across the restaurant with some sleazy guy who couldn't keep his dark eyes away from his phone screen. The young office assistant deserved more than that. More than the attention span of some half-wit that thought he had better things to do. And sure, maybe that was a stretch. But Beca also had a bit of a buzz herself. Hence her angry stare.
"Come on, Bec's," Stacie begged beside her, still in her dark blue blouse. It brought out her grey eyes, she had shoved her badge for L-Corp into her wallet at this point, knowing that it wasn't exactly a badge that screamed date me. Even though, Beca had no contest to that- if someone couldn't handle her brilliance, then they weren't worth more than a one-night stand if that. "I didn't know she would be here."
"Are you trying to use the force?" Amy asked from her left, raising her own glass of fruity drink to her lips. It had an unnatural neon pink color that probably wasn't even legally ingestible. Yet, it didn't' seem to rock the blonde, not even when she had enough to test her alcohol limit. Stacie slammed her hand into the woman's shoulder- earning a grunt. "What? I'm not judging, anyone can be a Jedi, including tiny here."
Beca let out a dark groan shoving her beer out of the way as she slammed her head against the glass bar. It was lit up with a shining blue light. The whole entire place called aqua for obvious reasons. They served good drinks and even better mozzarella sticks. Beca wanted about four orders of them at this point and a good pint of ice cream. The kind with the peanut butter in it.
"Does she look like she's having fun?" She mumbled.
"Ginger spice?" Amy lifted a perfect brow, turning a bit in her seat- it earned another hit in the arm, snapping her stare back to the woman who finally sat up, looking at something other than the floor and the untouched drink. "Ow! What?"
"Don't look."
"Then how am I supposed to tell you if she looks happy or not?"
"She doesn't," Stacie answered coolly. It was almost like a trap like Beca had sulked out of a dressing room and asked if a dress made her look fat. Instead, it was about the well-being of a woman she had been pining over silently for the past year. One that was on a date. Like she had a nerve of steel like she should know about the tiny security guard who admired her from afar. "Hey, John!"
The bartender shifted his attention, in the middle of pouring a bourbon for a man who looked like he was having a worse night than Beca. He had gotten used to the three girls standing near the counter, not so used to the smallest of the three sulking like this. But he figured it was good business. A bad night in life could turn into a good profit later.
"Can you turn that up?" Stacie's venomous grey stare flicked towards the large television that hung above the multiple rows of alcohol that was far too expensive for the girls, all of them have way too many student loans, or even wracked up credit debt. But Beca momentarily forgot about all of that.
She sat back in the leather studded chair, letting her hand fall down as it lay flat on the lit-up counter. She was used to seeing so many monitors up in Gail's office, but when something big like this happened- when the news cut through all the sports games and talent shoes, it was never easier. It was gut-wrenching an painful. Even now, so far from work, and that large building.
John parted his lips slightly as he raised the plastic remote towards the monitor. Hitting the volume button until half the bar tapered off in their drunken conversation. It was one of those moments, one of those times where the world stopped for a few seconds before it exploded in hushed whispers of the pending tragedy.
"Flight 1501 headed towards Geneva is experiencing some engine difficulties." The monotone caster spoke evenly. His job was to put a mournful look on his face and act like everything was okay all while panned shots of the plane flooded media from phones being aimed at the flaming pile of mass in National Cities skies. "One propeller has blown and there is no word from the piolet. We're lead to believe that an emergency landing is out of the question."
"Shit," Amy lowered herself into the seat next to the younger girl, Beca had shifted her attention from the screen to behind her. Part of her didn't' care if Chloe saw her at this point, it didn't' matter much. There was a certain stillness in the air and her pending anxieties about two random co-workers bumping into each other on a date.
What she saw made her stomach churn. The man that was supposed to be giving the girl her undivided attention was probably scanning twitter for the latest news instead of paying mind to the shattered expression that took over Chloe's perfectly sculpted features. It was undeniable fear and twisted guilt. Something that the woman had never possessed in the office. It ate away at Beca, watching the young woman apologize to a man who wasn't even listening.
He waved her off as she gathered her bag and started to push past the crowd of people that were flocking towards the television. Beca drew in a careful breath, reaching into her wallet as she pulled out a twenty and shoved away from the bar- earning a light grasp on her arm as Stacie pulled her lips close to her ear. "Where are you going?"
"I have to check on her," Beca skillfully shoved her friend's worried glance to the back of her mind as she grasped her leather jacket from the back of the chair before politely moving through the crowd herself. It smelled salty, and of alcohol, the atmosphere quickly broken as she stumbled into the alley that housed the establishment.
Rain was just beginning to fall, the pavement hot and sticky as steam rose up from sewer grates. Traffic was far off in the distance, roads mostly shut down at this point. Beca could make out angry honks from passive aggressive drivers. Her own breath was threatening to show in the air as she glanced around for Chloe, any sign of the young assistant in the menacing alleyway.
There was none.
There was a long and earth-shattering buzz that cut through the silence of her breathing. Beca cursing under her tone as she reached for her cell phone. She didn't bother looking at the contact, instead, she pressed it against her ear. It pulled her from her little bubble, the girl not even sure how long she stood there in the desolate part of the city. Not sure where to go, or who to turn to. Her worry for Chloe president over all else.
"Hello?" She asked, shocked by the loudness of her own voice.
"Get to the office, now." Gail's voice was sharp.
"What?" Beca knit her eyebrows together, shaking away the fog in her mind. "Is everything okay? Was there a break in?"
She kept her pager on her at all times in case there was one, but there was radio silence from that end. She had a few night guards that could probably take care of whatever the president of Barden was chiding about. But her voice sounded urgent, upset.
"Just get here, Beca." She said, exhausted. No doubt, when you run a news company and something like this breaks, it's enough to set the whole world into a tailspin. Something the brunette didn't want to enter head on. "It's an emergency."
THE RAIN had only grown stronger by the time Beca had made the long trek from the bar up to the woman's office. Her feet were cold, her socks sloshing in her boots- but the chill of the drops had sobered her up as much as could be done. No, she wasn't completely hammered upon leaving Aqua, but she felt something different. A dizzying emotion that made her feel like she was floating, even when passing Chloe's empty desk.
She didn't' know the girl well enough to read her the way that she had. To get a handle on exactly why she had rushed out of the bar and seemingly vanished at the sight of the plane. Did she hate airlines? Was someone close to her on that very flight? Beca could assume that latter, but she seemed to do that a lot lately. Assume things about Chloe that weren't true until proven.
Like the subtle touches, and warm smiles. She was a friendly girl. For all Beca knew, it meant nothing. The ice packs that were generously handed over in a shared silence for the past two years could just be the common courtesy of a naive young assistant to the most powerful media mogul in the city.
The office was bustling with activity, phones ringing off the hook- a few people so engrossed in the work that they forgot to look where they were going. Beca had enough sense to dodge all of them- tapping her knuckles lightly on the glass door to catch Gails attention. She had been in this office a lot more lately. The woman waved her in as she finished up her conversation with the new guy. Jesse.
He looked scared shitless.
The photographer had paled significantly. He wasn't as confident as he was the other day in the elevator. Instead, he stood nervously and small; his hands tugging at the hem of his long-sleeved shirt like he was a child ask to recite the pledge in front of an auditorium before some boring assembly.
Beca had to fight back a sly smile. She almost felt bad for the guy, someone she found with an arrogant edge due to his immediate association to a caped crusader from Metropolis. Someone the girl had despised from almost the start. It wasn't that she hated superhero's, it was more like a yearning. One she had swallowed down for the longest time at this point- never once giving into the temptation due to the fear.
Jesse gulped down his pride and cleared the room the second Beca caught the blonde demon's attention. He mouthed something along the lines of "good luck" before shutting the door behind him. It engulfed them in an eerie silence- Beca's own midnight stare looking past the woman as she stared up at the many screens, each holding a different aspect of the plane. The plane that had miraculously landed in the river, taking half of National City's bridge with it.
There was one image that caught her attention, though, all the other outlets seeming slow to find it compared to the one that bared Barden's signature logo in the corner. It was a girl, one with striking features- a woman standing on the wing of the plane in the spotlight of a rescue helicopter. Her clothes were soaked, and her features were shaded, stare trained and squinted. She almost looked angelic- droplets of water forming on her skin under the mercy of the lights.
"Who is she?" Beca asked simply, taking a step closer as she crossed her arms over her chest, not budging as Gail shifted her attention to the monitor. She remained sitting, her own amusement mixed with what seemed like anger.
"That's a fair question," Gail spoke softly, shifting to face the bulk of her office once more. "Witnesses say that she single handily guided the plane into the river."
"A piolet?" Beca mused, blinking. She hadn't in a few moments, eyes burning from the overexposed time. She could still see the picture clearly in her mind.
"Oh, not even you're that naive, Beca." She said.
"I suppose not." Beca responded.
She wasn't. She knew exactly what Gail was implying. There was no way that something, someone, human could pull off a stunt like that unless they were in it for the fame. The way this stranger had fled the scene so quickly lead everyone to believe that it wasn't like that- not at all. There was an impending question in the air, one that made Beca regret that extra beer she had a few moments earlier.
"Rebeca,"
"I don't know." She spoke curtly, cutting straight the point as she drew in a breath. Gail lifted a brow at the tone, somewhat amused by the action. "I'm sorry, but there's no logical way for me to tell without having contact with this person."
"Would you be able to tell, even if you were in the same room as her?"
"I don't…" she stopped herself from sounding repetitive. "Maybe at one point I would have been able to, I think. But it's been years since I've even tapped into it, Aunt Gail, I don't know what I can do anymore."
The woman nodded with understanding, at least that's what Beca thought it was. It might not have been, possibly a way to just speed up the conversation to get to the point. This newcomer in National City. Gail didn't' want to talk about their past, something she had worked hard to keep buried, to keep a secret from the public eye. It made Beca wonder why this stranger had chosen now to reveal herself. Was it just a one-time incident?
"She could be Kryptonian." Beca offered quickly, taking a small step back, exhausted from the conversations that she always seemed to have in this office.
"What makes you say that?" She asked.
"She's strong, she doesn't seem to have a grip on whatever she stumbled into." Beca stilled her stance. "Something tells me she's lost."