Breakfast is an awkward affair. At least, it is for me. Victoria doesn't seem to notice anything wrong. Too busy talking about her 'adventures', and somehow managing to make breaking up a mugging sound exciting between bites of runny scrambled egg. Dad doesn't seem to know what to make of it; I don't know whether it's Victoria's natural, uh...energy, or just the oddity of having a super-hero in the kitchen, but he spends the whole meal looking perpetually lost.

Victoria doesn't excuse herself until the food is gone. Then she's out the door with barely a backwards glance, and a 'reminder' that I owe her for my terrible performance at our 'flag football' match. Effectively leaving me with the lion's share of working out my cover with dad, when I have practically no idea what she's already told him.

Luckily, we're halfway through the dishes before he collects himself enough to ask.

"You know, I was hoping I'd get an explanation for that last night."

Halfway to his elbows in dishwater, still shaking off Victoria's chipper attitude, but he's smiling. I guess the idea of it is pretty funny. "There's not really much to tell."

He shakes his head. "My daughter, playing flag football with New Wave. And there's 'not much to tell'."

I snort, rinse the next plate as it's passed my way. "I...really didn't mean to stay, as long as I did. So then I kind of got...dragged into it?"

"You had fun, though?"

Yesterday? Not particularly. Last night hadn't been bad. And today…? It hasn't been terrible, so far. It could probably get worse, but for the moment things seem almost…

Normal.

"Yeah." I nod, setting the plate in the drainer to dry. Because we're doing dishes. After breakfast with a friend, and what basically amounted to an actual sleepover. "It was good."

"Well, I'm glad." Dad considers the sink, for a second, before piling the last of the dishes in. "I think this can soak, for a while. How about..." A pause, as he dried his hands, and offered the dish-towel. "Why don't you go pick out a movie, kiddo? We can have a, ah…'Friday matinee'."

It's forced cheer, but I don't draw attention to it. That wouldn't be fair. Instead, I dry my hands, and offer my own best attempt at a smile. "Don't you have work?"

That was probably the wrong thing to ask, judging by how his expression twists. It lasts just long enough to notice, but I recognize the helpless anger. It's unfortunately familiar. "I called before you two were up, to be sure...truth is, though, they don't need me there every day. Right now, anyway."

I nod, slowly. With everything going on lately, it makes sense that things at the Dockworkers Union have slowed down even further. Maybe I should have realized that before. Thought about it, before. Maybe…

"I can pick out a movie." I toss the towel on the counter, smile again. "If you finish the dishes."

He relaxes. Just a little bit. "That hardly seems fair." But he's already turning back to the sink. "I guess we can say these soaked long enough…"

I doubt they actually needed it to begin with. But they make for a decent distraction, and I slip out of the kitchen without needing to put together a response.

In the living room I find a movie that I don't remember seeing before. Or owning. From the looks of it, it's a pretty generic Cape-Action piece. Uncomplicated, spectacular, probably a little stupid. And it's an Aleph import, which is always good for novelty value, if nothing else.

I could do with not having to think, for a little bit. Action-flick it is.

Setting up doesn't take any time at all, and I settle into the couch just in time for dad to appear. He approves of my choice; I guess he could spend some time not thinking, too.

The movie is almost exactly what I expected. The hero can do no wrong, the villain kicks puppies, and all the CGI effects only serve to make it all seem even more fake. Some of it...I actually have to laugh at how stilted it seems. How...dull. Compared to flying through the city and actual fighting…

Does that make me jaded?

Does it matter?

The movie ends about ten minutes after it should have, with a blatant sequel hook. And I can't help but be curious. "Do you know if this did get a sequel?"

"If it did, I'll be very disappointed in the state of the entertainment industry on Earth Aleph." Dad does his best to sound serious, but if his smile is anything to go by, he found it at least as ridiculous as I did. "If you want to put another one on, let's find something more local."

I can't think of a good reason not to. I don't want to think of a reason not to. So I just nod, and get up to go find something that I might be able to enjoy.

Half an hour into what's trying very hard to be an Agatha Christie adaptation, the phone rings. Dad ruffles my hair as he stands, like he did when I was little, and I do my best not to show my discomfort at the contact. Focus on the movie, as I smooth everything out again.

And then comes a shout of surprise from the kitchen. I wince, especially when it becomes obvious that whatever's happening on the other end of the line, my dad isn't happy about it. There are few things that can get him worked up so easily, and none of them are great.

Five minutes later he sweeps through the living room on the way upstairs, snapping directions into the phone as he goes. Something about stalling, and 'tell them this or that'. Work troubles. I guess today wasn't the best day to take off…

Ten minutes, and I stop the movie to turn to him. He's got his meeting-with-the-city shirt and tie, and his battered old brief-case. Which I guess answers the question of what's going on. "You have to go to work?"

He sighs, wearily, as he moves to set the phone back on its charger. "Those idiots in city hall are stirring up trouble again. They sent someone by the offices without an appointment to make demands." He stops, takes a deep breath, and runs a hand through his hair. "It's a ridiculous pressure tactic, and shouldn't actually accomplish anything. But I'm not there to help, and...everyone's under stress. They might not make the best decisions, if he pushes."

I know how he means that to sound. I also know what he actually means. "I guess it wouldn't go over well if City Hall got their guy back with broken knees."

His eyes widen, and he coughs into his hand. "Taylor. That's...a terrible stereotype, and you shouldn't perpetuate it." It's not a denial, and we both know it. "I could talk all day about government workers, but I really do need to...get going." He shifts, taking half a step toward the door before stopping again. "I'm...sorry. I know I'm leaving-"

"No, it's fine." I cut him off, before he can start that. He's got things to do, and he can't do them here. "Go take care of it." It was nice, but I don't know if I really could have sat here all day. As much as I would like a day off…

"I might go out myself, later."

That gets me a hesitant smile. "Just be careful? You've still got…"

"My pepper spray. Somewhere." It's been awhile since I actually carried it anywhere. I'd be more likely to bring a baton now...and a mask.

"Alright." He nods. "Alright...I'll be home when I can."

"Bye…"

He's gone. I slump back into my seat, and watch as one of the last dinner guests reveals that he's a psychotic murderer.

It leaves a bad taste in my mouth, and I turn off the TV before it gets any further. I think I'll be going out sooner rather than later.

xxxxxxxxxx

"And you didn't even wait, like, ten minutes?"

I roll my eyes at Victoria's tone. Because I really don't get where the incredulity is coming from, here. "Yeah, basically." I slump back, stretching out on the cool gravel to watch the heavy blanket of clouds rolling by overhead. "I mean, I doubt he's going to be back until late." Which gives me plenty of time to work with. "And if he's going to put in another work-day, I don't see why I shouldn't do the same."

"Oh my God, don't make this sound like your day job. That's so depressing." She groans. "You had to be enjoying a day off, right? You had a crazy week, you should be in full on TGIF mode here."

"I could argue that my crazy week is actually good motivation not to take a break." Because I doubt the gangs or the serial-killing Tinker are going to stop for a breather. "I just...yeah, I could sit around all day, pretend to do my homework, and waste time watching TV. But why would I do that when I could just…"

There's a hiss on the other end of the line as something brushes across the receiver. "Go out and do something that matters?"

That's it, isn't it? "So it's a Cape problem."

"Kind of? I mean, you can practically fly. Can you imagine trying to ride the bus across town every day to get where you need to go?"

I try. It's...not really appealing. But that can't be all it is, can it? Just 'I have powers, so I want to use them'? No...no, because just teleporting around for fun wasn't the thing that had been weighing on my mind. "I'd like to think I'm worried about a little more than saving bus fare. Like the way the E88 are still moving into the docks."

Victoria scoffs. "Is that seriously what you're worrying about? They've always been a problem."

"But now they don't have the ABB to worry about, do they? Or the National Guard." And considering the fact that the Protectorate had trouble holding off a team of teenagers not too long ago, I'm not very confident they can provide much of a deterrent, either. "So there isn't really anything stopping them, is there?"

"I guess not…"

"Plus, the last time I decided not to worry about something like this, I wound up wearing human remains."

A moment of silence. "That's, uh...that's a good point, I guess."

I thought so, too. "So, yes. It's kind of hard to take a day off when there's still so much to worry about."

There's another long pause, and then Victoria heaves a sigh. "Taylor, you are becoming my sister."

"What?"

"Just because you can maybe do something about this crap doesn't mean you need to run yourself into the ground to do it, okay? If all you focus on is work, then...then you wind up screwing yourself over." Her voice drops a bit, and I'm surprised by the bitterness in her tone. "Trust me on this one. Nobody likes a workaholic."

"Right…"

More silence. The clouds keep crawling along, the traffic noises from below rise and fall with the wind. If it weren't for the faint sounds of movement over the phone, I'd think I'd dropped the call. But, finally, Victoria sighs again.

"Actually, I did call you for a reason. Well, a couple reasons."

I sit up, at that, frown as I sweep some gravel off the back of my coat. "Is something up?"

"Nothing to worry about right now, I don't think. But I called Gallant...to talk about Shadow Stalker."

She wouldn't have gotten a better reaction if she'd dumped ice down my back. I'm on my feet a moment later, my earlier uncertainty washed away by tension. "You told him-?"

"No! No, I didn't tell him anything. I just asked a few questions. So chill out, okay?" I try to do just that, but it's hard. Because what the hell? "Look, seriously, I didn't even mention you."

"That's not-" Okay, that did make it a little better. But it didn't really negate the fact that Victoria had gone digging for information on a member of the Wards by calling another Ward. "You could have told me that you planned to do something like that!"

"Well I didn't 'plan' it. So not really?" I glare at the building across from me, but that doesn't do anything to convey just how unimpressed I am over the phone. "But I figured I'd get to it while I was thinking about it. So how about you say 'thank you'?"

"I'll think about it." I close my eyes, try counting to ten. It actually does seem to help, which is nice. "What did he say?"

"A whole lot of nothing." She huffs. "Actually, you know what? Where are you? I can tell you in person, and you can help me find some trouble to put a stop to."

Despite everything, I manage to smile at that. "Now who's the workaholic?"

"Oh, this won't be work."

Alright then. "I can be at the usual place in...five minutes?"

"Sounds good."

xxxxxxxxxx

Victoria insisted on punching someone before talking about Shadow Stalker. So, I found a couple of E88 thugs selling drugs on a street corner and teleported them into a blind alley with her.

She seemed at least a little more relaxed, after that.

So, with that done, we head up above street level, and settle into our usual patrol routine. I can't say that's not already a comfortably familiar sort of thing.

"Alright, so first, only kind of related. You dropped your crossbow yesterday."

That...was entirely true. I'd managed to forget about it entirely. "You picked it up?"

"Shielder did, so you can thank him for that next time you see him." She waves it off, smirks down at me. "He also suggested you pick up a holster or something. I'm sure we can make something work, but you'll need to come over at some point."

"I'll keep it in mind." Because if I'm going to actually keep the thing, I might as well be able to use it properly. "Maybe I can stop by before I go home." She nods, and rises up, offering me a hand up to the next roof. I roll my eyes, but jump to meet her, gripping her forearm and kicking off the wall as she pulls. A bit of a stumble when I hit the top, but I think I manage to recover well enough.

"Smooth moves."

"I could have just teleported."

"This was more fun."

That seems to be a factor in a lot of her decisions. At some point, I might have to bring that up. For now, though, "What can you tell me about Shadow Stalker."

Victoria dips, until she's hovering along at eye level beside me. "Right...basically what I got from Gallant is that nobody really likes her."

I frown, glancing down into the alley below. "He said that? They're all part of the team…"

"And Stalker strikes you as a team player?"

"...the sarcasm isn't necessary."

She shrugs, and continues, circling around to 'walk' on the rooftop beside me, her feet barely touching the ground. "He tried to make it sound like everyone was one big happy family, first. But it was pretty obvious he didn't buy it either. 'Friction with the rest of the team', 'trouble adapting after working solo'...he also slipped up and mentioned a psychologist. Which is standard, for the Wards, but it sounded like something more."

So what did that mean? "If she's such a bad fit, then why would she be there at all?"

"See, that's what I wanted to know. So I called him on the bullshit, and...managed to get the rest of it out of him." She bobs higher into the air with a frustrated noise. "Turns out she's on probation. He doesn't know what for, but if she wasn't in the Wards? She'd be in juvie."

She's...what? "They put a criminal on the team?"

"I don't know, maybe it's some kind of work-release, 'reform the troubled teen' thing." Victoria rolls her eyes. "The point is, she's actually, 'belongs in jail' psycho, so she's seriously motivated to not get caught. So you can pretty much count on the fact that none of the other Wards know just how bad things are."

"Is that supposed to make anything better?" Because it doesn't. It really doesn't. "They don't know what she does, so it's fine?" She drops down in front of me, but I teleport past her and keep walking. I don't need some dramatic confrontation right now. "Did he say what she did?"

I can almost feel Victoria's glare on my back. "He didn't know. Part of the whole deal was a sealed record or something."

Because of course. The PRT wouldn't...if they wanted Sophia - Shadow Stalker - badly enough to keep her out of jail, then they'd care enough to make sure she didn't stand out. Like she was just another Ward.

And Wards don't have criminal records, do they?

"Whatever. At this point, I don't even think it matters." Because what can I do about it? Knowing that Sophia is a Ward doesn't give me more options, not really. I could tell someone, but even if someone believed me then, what? I'd be outing a Ward, and that's all that would matter. It doesn't change the fact that she and Emma are protected. It doesn't change the fact that my dad settled with the school, or that Emma's dad is a lawyer.

Knowing that Sophia is Shadow Stalker...doesn't solve the problem.

And that just...really pisses me off. Which sucks, because up until now I'd managed to have an okay day.

"Thanks, Victoria." I shove my hands in my coat pockets, hunching against a sharp breeze as I reach the corner of the rooftop. "You didn't have to do that."

"Yeah, well...I wanted to know, too." I feel, more than see, as she draws up beside me. "I was planning on asking about Tattletale, too. Only I, uh...I got kind of pissed and started an argument. And then hung up."

I can't really blame her, for that. If I was talking to Gallant about this right now, I'd probably be starting an argument, too. "We'll just have to figure that out later. You already found out more than I would have."

"Don't worry. You may be a newbie hero, but you already kick ass!" Her arms wrap around my middle and I yelp as I'm hauled off my feet with enough force to drive my breath out. "You'll make your own contacts, eventually!"

What the hell? "Ribs." I wheeze, struggling to free my arms enough to do something about this. "Victoria, ribs…"

"Oh, fine. Be that way." Her grip loosens, just enough so that I can breathe again. "Also, this shit is depressing. So, you're it."

I have less than a second to process that before she drops me.

I teleport immediately, and nearly catch her cape before she's out of reach. She laughs, as she darts into the sky.

"...I'd better not get stabbed this time."

A moment to measure the distance-

-and I follow her.

xxxxxxxxxx

We range from from one end of the Docks to the other, breaking a couple of times to drop in on some assholes who weren't deterred by the fact it was broad daylight. I don't think any of them were even from the gangs. Which is all kinds of bullshit that I don't want to think about.

Keeping up with (and, at times, avoiding) Victoria is more difficult than the first time we did this. Since I can't rely on the added maneuverability or senses from my...the Charms. But that's...probably a good thing. It shows that I'd been getting dependent on them. Getting used to working without is just sensible…

Victoria's hovering, up ahead, scanning the skyline. In the wrong direction, this time, because I took the time to circle around, specifically for this moment. Because when I can see her, and she can't see me? That's when-

-I've got the advantage.

"Tag." I tap my knuckles against her back, stepping away to avoid any immediate response.

But she just laughs and holds up her hands, before turning to face me. "Sneaky. Teach me not to watch my back." She grins, relaxes, and I find myself following suit. "I think that makes us even."

"...I don't think you could score a game of tag with less than three people."

"Sure you can. It's just easier to end on an even score with two."

I consider that, for a second, before narrowing my eyes at her. "With two people, then whoever scores first is going to win."

She gives me a scolding look, her hands on her hips as she rises above me. "Unless it's a draw."

That's the only...no. This is stupid. It's ridiculous. And why am I laughing? "That's completely arbitrary. And I think I'm done here."

The stern expression turns to a grin. "What, you don't want to grab a late lunch? The Boardwalk's just back-"

Sharp popping, distant, echoing. The fact that I recognize it as gunfire says a lot about my recent habits, and for a moment I feel like that should be more concerning to me than it is.

"...there." Victoria palms her face, touching down on the roof with a groan. "I hate this city, sometimes."

"You mean you hate the assholes who keep trying to ruin it." I correct, orienting on the sound. Just a rough direction, but that's all we really need. "You mind giving me a ride over?"

"Hey, you've got two legs and a Mover power that ain't broken." I turn to eye her, and she snorts. "Yeah, sure, I'll play taxi. Not like I'm not used to that…" She lifts into the air again. And even expecting it, being scooped off my feet is just a little alarming. "Hold on!"

I really try. But I think, in the future, we're going to have to work out something a little more practical. And less embarrassing. Precarious? I know that the fall wouldn't kill me, but something about being carried through the air makes the whole experience much less enjoyable than it could be…

It doesn't take long to track down the gunfire. Victoria sets me down on a rooftop overlooking the skirmish, and we both move to the edge to get a good look.

Empire 88. What looks like a remnant of the ABB. There's got to be over a dozen men down there, all of them armed.

Of course, they're not the real concern. Not with the man in the gray hood, hovering in a thick, misty cloud that had probably been his legs, at one point. Him, and the cloaked woman beside him.

"Night and Fog." I take a step back, reaching up to grip the baton holstered on my belt. "Shit."

Victoria seems to agree, judging by her own muttered swearing.

And she's not wrong to be upset. Because really, neither of us are equipped to deal with these two; Victoria can probably counter Night, to an extent, but we can't do anything about Fog. That and the armed men? "I think you should call Gallant back."

"I've got Miss Militia's number." Victoria growls. "It'll be quicker. If nobody down there's managed to call it in already, anyway…"

I hope they did. I also really hope that nobody was stupid enough to hang around and record the fight, since apparently that's a thing that people are willing to do.

Victoria is dialing. I'm sure it'll take a minute for her to work that out, so I turn back to the street-

-and come face to face with a snarling demon mask.

I freeze.

Oni Lee pulls the pin on his first grenade.