"Ugh! Where are my frikkin' keys?"
An assortment of clothes and stray objects soared across the tiny apartment as Devon dug through the mess on her floor.
"I don't see how I could have lost them! I put them RIGHT HERE!"
Of course, by 'right here', she meant in the midst of a pile of clothes she had yet to put up after washing.
She jumped when she heard a snort from behind her and she turned to the furry lump on her couch. Underneath the thick tufts of fur, a small gleam caught her eye, and she spotted one of her key chains dangling from the edge of the cushion.
"Petunia!"
There was another snarl, and the fur-ball shifted to reveal a weasel-like face and sharp claws that threatened to dig into the already shabby couch.
Devon marched over to the chubby creature and snatched the keys from under its bulk, "Bad wolverine! I've warned you about taking my things!"
Petunia yawned, flipped onto her back nonchalantly, and dozed off once more.
Devon rolled her eyes at her lazy pet as she grabbed her bag and hurried out of her apartment and down the stairs, shuffling around for her cell phone to check the time.
"Crap! I'm late!"
She nearly trampled over the front door and ran across the parking lot, jumping into her old car. She barely even shut the door before starting it and backing out of her parking space (in which she was parked almost diagonally).
She breathed in deeply through her nose and out through her mouth as she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road.
"Phew…ok, you'll by fine, D. Your plan is good; Mr. Perkins will be sure to give you that loan. You've just gotta be assertive. Those business types like that…right?"
She ran over her spiel over and over again. It sounded great in her head, but she had a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that it would all come out in a jumbled, stuttering mess.
She felt almost nauseous as she pulled up to the bank; her throat was drying out already. Nine fifty-six, if she went in now, she would be right on time.
"Well…ready as I'll ever be, I guess…"
She looked around as she went in to be sure no one was watching her. As usual, the only person present was the teller who was currently fast asleep.
Good. She hated having to casually sneak into the men's bathroom without anyone noticing. Honestly, she didn't understand why they didn't make an auxiliary entrance through the women's bathroom. She also would have preferred not to have to get close enough to a urinal for it to scan her retina, but she really had no time to worry about these things at the moment. She was going over and over her plan so fast in her head that it would have sounded like another language if she repeated it all out loud.
She knew this. She KNEW this.
It almost surprised her when she realized that she was standing in front of the reception desk.
"Devon Bree to see Mr. Perkins."
The thin woman behind the desk looked down at her from over her pointy, cat eye glasses, "Yes, have a seat."
She nodded and headed towards the waiting area. Almost as soon as she sat down, she heard a high-pitched cheer and footsteps running from the stairs that led to Mr. Perkins's office to almost directly behind her.
"OH YEAH! BACK IN BUSINESS, BABY! WHOOHOOOOOOO!"
Devon turned just in time to see a streak of orange disappear through the door at the end of the hall. Whoever that guy was he had obviously gotten very good news, and Devon couldn't help but feel a little jealous.
"Miss Bree, Mr. Perkins will see you now."
The mention of her name made her stomach jump. This was it. No turning back. The only comfort she had was to think about how great it would feel afterward if she did get the loan. With that thought, she ascended the stairs to Mr. Perkins's office.
"Let me get this straight Miss Bree…"
It was all Devon could do to keep eye contact with the giant of a man. He hated the plan, she knew it already.
"You want me to fund the making of a teleportation device that you aren't ONE-HUNDRED percent sure will actually work?"
She bit the inside of her jaw, "I know it's a gamble, but—"
Mr. Perkins interrupted her with a loud sigh, "Miss Bree…"
He shifted the apple around in his hand, examining the shiny peel. He had been messing with that apple the entire time she had been here, and it was starting to border on annoying. It seemed like he was paying more attention to that apple than to her.
"I appreciate your enthusiasm; I really do. I have been paying attention to your past heists, and they have been impressive for someone of your minimal income."
She glanced at the floor, then back up to him with a silent, dejected sigh.
"You've also branded yourself well, and that IS important," he finally sat the apple down and paid full focus on her, "but you have such little experience for a heist this big. To be honest, you need training."
She almost felt herself shrinking into the square stool she sat on as she deflated even more.
"I assure you, it's nothing personal, Miss Bree. It's impressive what you have done on your own, but many of the world's top villains were trained. You could gain a lot from training under a professional."
Devon chewed on her bottom lip, "Well…I HAD been sort of thinking about an internship, but…there just aren't that many experienced villains that want to take the time to MENTOR someone, especially someone who could be competition one day."
There were a few moments of silence as the large man rubbed his chin and considered this, "An internship…"
A small smile, if it could be called that, spread across his face as he seemed to get an idea. Devon wasn't sure how she felt about the expression.
"Actually, there IS someone who might be willing to take on an intern."
Devon raised her eyebrows, "Really?"
"Yes," he nodded. The 'yes' was more to himself than to Devon, "He could definitely use an intern.
"He's…a younger villain, also," Mr. Perkins reached into a drawer and pulled out a circular object and handed it to her, "about your age, but he has had plenty of experience."
She looked over the thick, die cut cardstock he had given her. On the front was a large, orange V within a circle, and when she flipped it over, she saw that it was a business card.
"Vector?" she read the name. There was no last name, no title, just "Vector" and some contact information.
"You might remember him from the pyramid heist two months ago."
Her eyes widened, "The guy who stole that PYRAMID? He's taking INTERNSHIPS?"
Mr. Perkins smirked, "I'll tell him to expect you at 8 a.m. tomorrow."
Devon ignored his pushiness and nodded. This guy was one of the greatest villains of all time; if she could get advice from him, it could really jump-start her career. It wasn't so great as teleporting Big Ben, but by training under the genius who stole the Great Pyramid of Giza, she might be able to pull off something even bigger.
"Yeah, that'd be GREAT!"
Mr. Perkins jotted a short note down on a piece of paper, "I'm very glad to have helped, Miss Bree."
She nodded as she made her way to the door, "Thanks! I really appreciate it!"
The smallest of smirks could be seen on Mr. Perkins' face if one were looking close enough. He chuckled as she left the room, "You'll be a lot of help, Miss Bree," he glanced at the picture on his desk of an orange clad boy smiling an innocent, gap-toothed smile.
He arched an eyebrow, "A lot of MUCH needed help."