Aftermath 17: Protégé Chapter 1: A Foot in the Door, a kim possible fanfic

AFTERMATH 17: PROTÉGÉ

A Foot in the Door

Hank Perkins hadn't really had a place to go after putting himself through business and law school. His parents were out of the picture, what money he'd had he'd spent on the massive gamble that was his education, and now he was in debt with a house that wasn't his in a job market that was crashing. With no prospective employers to be found, he'd resorted to joining a temp agency. Hey, it was a start. His first job had been with supervillains and that had gone about as well as expected. Needless to say, he'd been fired from the temp agency after getting slapped with a criminal record and some prison time, but that was okay because while his employment opportunities were probably shot now—criminal records didn't lend to good employees—he'd seen opportunity.

Villainy had promise, he decided. He could get in on the ground floor of something big! Let no one say he didn't have a head for business. The problem was money. Always money. He didn't have the funds to start up a business of his own. He could cover a few base costs despite the fact it would only increase his debt, he could even take care of a lot of the promotional materials himself, but getting the whole thing up and running? That was another matter. He needed an investor, he decided. Then he needed a client. Or vice versa. Maybe he could land both in one go. He was optimistic it was possible.

Finding an investor in a Villainy Consultant firm was not going to be an easy task. Any businessperson in their right mind would laugh in his face if he asked, especially if their company was an upstanding one. That cut down his investor potential to the extreme. He needed to go big or go home, but he'd always been one to shoot for the stars, so he flagged a couple of maybes and went for it.

He struck out with all of them.

Senor Senior Senior wasn't interested in making investments at this time but wished him good luck. Big Daddy Brotherson was mafia and hadn't shared his belief that there was untapped potential to be found. The man had basically laughed him out, but then he wasn't shocked and wasn't particularly upset either, because getting involved in mob business? He wanted none of that if it could be helped. He'd seen Better Call Paul and Breaking Awful. Fiction yes, but scary enough to make him double-check himself. Comparing supervillains and mafia was like comparing apples to oranges anyway. Both fruit, but nothing alike except in basic shape and the fact they grew on trees. Not his best analogy, but you got the point.

He'd tried a financial advisor slash businessman slash lawyer that he knew was shady at the best of times—Vinny Wheeler was the name—and he'd talked to used weather machine dealer Wacky Wally. Vinny had tried to talk him into a business partnership and then proceeded to attempt to scam him. He'd laughed in the guy's face and left. He knew all the tricks. Wally had said he didn't have that kind of money, much less to invest in a crapshoot company that probably wouldn't get off the ground. At that point, Hank was starting to give up hope on this ever panning out, but there was one more person left to try. Jack Hench.

Jack Hench was a businessman extraordinaire with a shady but legit company, far as anyone could tell, and an affinity for working with supervillains. He'd actually been first choice, but word around the water cooler was Hench didn't do investing. Any proposal pitched to him was listened to but then met with a basic template of 'Unfortunately, HenchCo is not investing at this time, but we wish you luck in your business endeavors'. So basically, Senor Senior Senior. That said, the only reason he was going for Hench at all was because of Senior. The elderly villain had recommended the man despite all Hank's research indicating it was pointless, and had even given him some advice. Senior had told him he'd have to be really convincing and really stand out to even catch Hench's eye, but that if he could, he might be able to win an audience and land the man's backing. If he did, he would be set.

So now he had to plan.

Following HenchCo social media was free and kept you under the radar. He kept a close eye out for any potential openings while at the same time working to get the word out about his company. Dropping off posters in dive bars and favourite villain hangouts. He even tried using his connections through Killigan, Drakken, and Shego, but Killigan was the only one who bit, and that was more out of pity than anything. The Scotsman honestly didn't see a future for the company but had dropped a couple of hints about it here and there. Just none that had taken. A few low-level criminals had nabbed the opportunity, like Frugal Lucre, but refused to do anything they were consulted to do so ultimately failed and either cost him his paycheck or stiffed him. Bad guys weren't exactly the most trustworthy clientele, and he'd known as much going in. Still, he'd gained a relatively steady flow of low-level crims and supervillains. He wanted to shoot higher though! Really get the word out there with the veteran and big-time villains. An investor would help him do that, so he kept an eye on HenchCo's business reports and monitored their dealings and whatever scandals they landed themselves in. There were precious few of those except an occasional rumor mill or event that raised eyebrows. On occasion, a Kim Possible involvement, but those were few and far between, and mostly she was going in on a mission at the behest of Jack Hench himself.

Then about a year in, opportunity struck.

It was an event involving Kim, but for the first time, she and Hench hadn't been on neutral or employer-contractor terms. This time she'd rubbed him the wrong way in just the right dose for him to slip up. Third quarter rollout of his latest line of products. Infiltration by the teen hero of a demonstration meant to show off the Molecular Transducer, which was the centerpiece. GJ orders to get it away from Hench before he could sell it off or do whatever else he planned to do with it. Things got ugly, a battle broke out, and while Hench had stayed out of it, there was audio of him offering 'a lifetime discount to anyone who can nab Kim Possible'. It was pretty damning. The man had realized the slip immediately after the smoke cleared, but it was too little too late, and GJ was probably celebrating about now because goodness knew how long they'd been trying to pin something on the guy. Hank almost cheered. Looked like his law degree might come in handy after all. Grinning, he immediately leapt up and raced to get ready. If nothing else, maybe this would at least catch Hench's attention.

HenchCo was swarmed with reporters when he arrived, all of them demanding answers looking just as greedy for a scoop as GJ was for getting Hench. He hid himself in the crowd of spectators and reporters waiting for the man to come out. Probably accompanied by a team of lawyers and some bodyguards, because scandal tended to draw unwanted attention. If GJ managed to subpoena Jack's business records besides, it would compromise a lot of bad, bad people, and that was the last thing Hench needed right now. His entire reputation, and probably life, was staked on the confidentiality of his clients. Losing that confidentiality would screw him over more royally than anyone knew, Hank figured. He had enough feelers in the villain community to know the whispers weren't good amongst the supervillains. Who knew how much worse they were in darker circles? The supervillains were more potent and struck high, loud, and proud, but the darker circles were more malicious and sinister. They were the ones you wanted to avoid. Supervillains couldn't be bothered with the fates of individuals unless they stepped in the way. The other circles could be though.

He looked around and figured he'd probably have better luck speaking to the man inside, so slipped out of the crowd of reporters and sought another entrance. He found one through a side door and entered it quickly before the reporters sniffed it out. Some were already closing in he had noticed, so he locked it behind him. He made his way through the building, looking around. Business as usual, it seemed. No one was perturbed, just kept going about their jobs as casual as anything, but there was an aura of strain in the air.

He approached the front desk, behind which sat a smiling young man with blonde hair. "Excuse me, is Mr. Hench available for an appointment at all?" Hank asked. "I'm not a reporter, by the way."

"I'm sorry sir, but Mr. Hench is seeing no one right now," the secretary said. "Besides, he's due for a meeting with his lawyers about now, so he'll just be heading out. I can…" Just then the doors opened and quickly they looked over. Hank straightened up, eyes widening as it dawned on him how close to the man he was. "Mr. Hench sir! Going out the side door or the front?" the receptionist asked.

"Neither one is a good option, Sir. A few reporters were sniffing around the side entrance, so undoubtedly they'll be swarming it by now," Hank spoke up. It garnered him a wary, curious look.

"And you are…?" the man in question fished.

"Hank Perkins, Sir! Aspiring businessman. I was actually hoping to steal a moment of your time. Spare you from the press a few minutes longer?" Hank said.

"I see. Unfortunately, I have no time to hear pitches right now. I have an appointment to get to," Hench replied, putting on a cordial but fake smile. He turned to his secretary. "Have the car brought out front."

"Show them there's nothing to hide! Brilliant strategy sir. Less fuel for the press, less reason for investigators to be suspicious," Hank said. "If we could maybe talk in the few minutes it'll take to have the car brought around? I won't take up much of your time."

Jack frowned at him then put on the fake, and this time tight, smile again. "Mr. Perkins, was it? As I've already stated, I have no time for pitches or offers right now. Now isn't the time or place you see, so if you'll excuse me," Hench said, staying cordial but clearly getting annoyed. Hank knew that it was now or never though. If he struck out with Hench, he struck out completely. Odds were he wouldn't get another crack at the man. The trick was not making himself so annoying as to put the man off, but still be persistent.

"Yes, the scandal. May I say, sir, I feel you're being treated incredibly unfairly here," Hank said. "What really do they have on you? An audio file? A video? With a good legal strategy, those can be tossed out easily enough, I assure you. I'm sure your team of lawyers consists of the best money can buy. You go get 'em, Mr. Hench. After all, you're the best at what you do," He swung his arm and fist in a sort of can-do manner, grinning positively.

Jack looked like he wasn't sure whether he was more annoyed or amused at this point. "Mr. Perkins, if you want to talk then feel free to make an appointment with my secretary. I should have some time on my hands again in a few months or so," he said. It wasn't a rejection, Hank noted, but it wasn't good enough either. There was no way he would last four more months at the rate he was going.

"I'm afraid four months won't be doable for me sir," he said, avoiding mentioning the fact his business plan would be dead and sunk by then.

"I'm sorry Mr. Perkins, but if you can't keep a business afloat for four months, I'm afraid we have nothing to talk about," Hench said. Hank cursed the fact the man had caught on, but he really shouldn't be surprised. Jack Hench had been in this game a long, long time. He was probably privy to all the tricks.

The man started walking away when his secretary signaled the car was ready, and Hank scrambled to follow. "Sir, you don't understand. I've lasted about a year, but I'm tackling a very niche market here filled with difficult clients! There's a demand for it and a lot of promise, I just need your expertise or some business advice or something!"

"Funding?" Jack asked, allowing his presence. Hank supposed the man figured he'd serve as a decent buffer between him and the Press since it didn't seem he was going out there with henchmen at his back.

"That would be nice, but I find that expertise can be far more profitable than funding if it's the right kind, and I'm certain you're the right kind! We're tackling the same niche market you see. I'm trying to start up a Villainy Consultant Firm and I just…"

"Mr. Perkins, you're shooting far too high. Supervillains are more trouble than they're worth, trust me. In fact, while indeed they're my preferred clientele, the vast majority of said clientele is not among the supervillain population," Hench said as they walked out.

"Sir, you and I both know that the majority of your gross profit comes from that minority!" Hank insisted. "Even if you cut out everyone else, HenchCo would still be able to stay afloat. I've analyzed your business strategies, marketing, and earnings over the past five or so years, and you're only climbing upward!" Had been, rather. It seemed there was a bit of a slump as of late, but he was trying to butter the man up, not sour him. "Sir, if you would just…"

"Mr. Hench, what is your statement regarding the accusations leveled against you in the Kim Possible incident?"

"Mr. Hench, what kind of a blow is HenchCo looking at should your company records be subpoenaed?"

"Mr. Hench, are you afraid of retaliation from your clientele?"

"Mr. Hench…?"

"Excuse me sir," Hank said. He cleared his throat. "Mr. Hench is not obligated to answer any questions regarding the incident at HenchCo involving Kim Possible. He was doing his job and presenting his third-quarter lineup. Miss Possible, acting on unlawful orders from Global Justice, illegally trespassed on his property and was caught in the act. That's all," Hench gave him a mildly surprised look. "GJ had no jurisdiction or right to contract the services of a crime-fighting teenager to play spy on Mr. Hench's business operations, and no probable cause for attempting to seize any of the products being presented that day. They had theories and nothing else. Miss Possible was a victim of circumstance, Mr. Hench was a victim period, and he will not be discussing this matter further." Hench was watching him intently now, and that was good for him sure, but now Hank was genuinely into this.

"How do you explain the supervillains gathered at his demonstration?"

"How do you explain his dubious dealings with the evil community?"

"Mr. Hench does not discriminate when it comes to the clientele seeking his services. Supervillains make up a vast minority of that clientele. Failsafes are included with all his products besides, so there's always a kill switch ready to go should things get out of hand with any number of his clients. Mr. Hench takes all reasonable precautions to ensure his devices are never used in the destruction or overthrow of the world, in accordance with the law and what it requires in the case of potentially dangerous and or lethal devices and products," Hank said.

"Mr. Hench, how do you explain the audio log of you offering a lifetime discount to whoever nabbed Kim Possible?" a reporter asked, ignoring Hank.

"Mr. Hench's intentions towards Miss Possible were not malicious. She was trapped in a room filled with men and women she's put behind bars multiple times. While legally he could have dealt harshly with her, given she was trespassing on HenchCo property, his concern was first and foremost her safety. He did not order them to harm Miss Possible. He did not order them to kill Miss Possible. Mr. Hench's reasons for offering such an incentive were to secure Miss Possible's safety as quickly as possible, have her brought to him, get her out of the clutches of the men and women who might have done her grievous injury, ensure her safety, and get her securely home. The audio log and his urgency, while twisted by the media and Global Justice's narrative, speaks for itself. Jack Hench is far more interested in Miss Possible's survival than her demise and has in fact requested Miss Possible's services in the past in order to put a stop to any nefarious dealings any supervillains may have been planning with his devices. He considers Kim Possible a valuable ally and will continue to seek her best interests." Because they aligned with his own, mostly, but suffice to say he kept quiet on that front. "Now you've received your statement. If you'll excuse us, Mr. Hench has an appointment with his legal team to address this matter and investigate the possibility of pressing a lawsuit against Global Justice for slander and defamation. I would advocate he do the same for the media, but that'll be his choice to make."

"Are you his lawyer?" a reporter asked.

"We're done here," Hank said bluntly, ushering Jack quickly away from the reporters and playing the role perfectly, guiding the man straight to his car and getting him inside. He slid in next to him—the guy could kick him out later if he wanted to—and shut the door. "You know where to go," Hank said to the driver as Jack continued staring at him in stunned disbelief. The driver immediately pulled away from the building, heading towards the offices in question.

Hank looked back at the reporters left behind. As soon as they were away from the pursuing crowds, he let out a breath of relief and turned to Jack Hench, who was regarding him now very carefully, scrutinizing him in silence. "I'm sorry sir, but it had to be done," he said. "Apologies if I've made things worse. It just seemed to me you wanted to get away from there as soon as possible."

Jack tilted his head then got himself a glass of champagne, leaned back, and began sipping while observing his unexpected guest. Hank shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to do with the silence. "Champagne?" Hench offered after a moment.

"No thank you sir, I don't drink," Hank replied. Often, that was. Admittedly right now he was feeling too nervous and intimidated to do so anyway, now that it was starting to register with him just what he'd done.

Hench nodded. "How old are you?" he asked.

"Twenty-three going on twenty-four, sir," Hank chirped, smiling brightly. He'd started working for the Temp agency at an early twenty-two, he remembered.

"You're a lawyer," Hench noted.

"I have a law degree," Hank corrected. "Barr certified, but no, I'm not a practicing lawyer. That's why I didn't say to them I was and that's why I never called you my client. Doing that could cost me my credentials. This way if any issue is raised over what I just did, I can inform them I was defending an associate, not giving legal counsel."

"You know how to dance the fine line," Hench noted. "So, twenty-three… Seven years to become a lawyer, isn't it? More if you worked as a paralegal first, last I knew."

"You can also graduate early if you take some extra exams during the undergraduate portion and participate in an accelerated course," Hank said. "You can bet I busted my backside getting that degree sir. A business one too at the same time! Needless to say, I uh, haven't had much of a social life the last few years. Or a lot of sleep, come to think of it. Insomnia played a part in that too though."

"Oh, I can tell," Jack noted. Hank winced a bit. He had small bags under his eyes he couldn't seem to get rid of, he knew. That's what Hench was referencing. He really needed to start sleeping more. Or at least try. Again, insomnia. It didn't make it easy. He was also by nature hyper-energetic, so there was that too. He liked to constantly be busy. Always have his mind going on something. It felt strange when it wasn't, but sometimes he wished… "Tell me more about this business proposal of yours. Hank, was it?" Hench said.

Hank's eyes blew wide open, and he had to refrain from shouting in victory. That was a foot in the door if ever there was one. "Yes sir!" he said. "The cut and dry of it is Villainy Consultation. Help Supervillains, both established and new, optimize their plans for world domination. Establish and procure bases, offer suggestions, front companies, share money-saving tips and tricks, and offer training regimens, programs, and exercises for henchmen to maximize their potential and efficiency. Hank Perkins, Villainy Consultant: If you're looking to do evil, I'm here to help you get it right! Uh, the slogan is a work in progress."

"Your pitch could use a little work as well," Hench replied.

Hank winced a bit. "Admittedly it was a bit disjointed. One of my weaker presentations, I must confess," he said. "Apologies sir, I'm still in lawyer mode, so to speak. Let me try again."

"No need. I get the gist. It's not a bad idea. In fact, I think it may even be a good one given all the failed supervillains these days, thanks to Kim Possible. I see potential, Perkins, but as I've said, at this time HenchCo isn't interested in making investments. Not of time or of money."

Hank's face fell. "Oh. Yes. Of course sir. If that's the case, then I'm sorry I've wasted your time," he said, sounding glummer than he'd meant to. Jack watched him keenly, summing him up. Hank pointedly looked out the window, trying to hide how upset he was by the response. Now it was up to him to flounder through how he might try and save this, he guessed.

"Mr. Perkins, try your luck with Drew Lipsky. Aka Doctor Drakken. He's fought Kim Possible steady for the last three or four years. He's beginning to get desperate, but a problem is just a misunderstood opportunity. He might prove an invaluable client to you. Don't expect an investment, and I warn you he's consistently cheap—would rather steal things than pay for them—but at this point, I'm willing to bet he'll consider taking the plunge. It'll get your foot in the door if nothing else. Impress him enough, he may even spread the news." Hank looked quickly and hopefully back at him, eyes wide. It apparently amused Hench, who smirked. "Here. Take my card," the man said, pulling a business card from his pocket and handing it over. "Let me know how things go. Give me yours also, how about? Who knows? HenchCo's position on investments may even change down the road. It has before."

"Really?" Hank asked, eyes wide and hopeful. He regretted how young that made him sound. Hench huffed a half laugh and nodded. Hank beamed, grinning wider than he ever had before, and quickly collected himself, reaching into his own pocket and withdrawing a card of his own, exchanging with Hench. "Thank you, sir. I'll do my best."

"I'd expect no less," Hench replied as the limo came to a stop. He climbed out. Hank grinned and followed his lead.

"Apologies for hijacking your time, sir; and your car," Perkins said. "And might I express my sincerest gratitude for not kicking me out?"

"Mmm hmm," Jack replied, leaning on the roof of the limo.

Perkins shifted a bit, unsure what to make of Hench and how amused he seemed. "I'll follow up on your lead regarding Dr. Drakken. Thanks again, Mr. Hench." He turned and started to head off.

"Perkins, walk with me a minute," Hench said.

Hank frowned curiously, looking back. "Sir?" he said. Hench just nodded and headed towards the building. Perkins hesitated a moment, unsure of what to do, but decided to play it safe and obey, quickly falling into step with Hench. The man towered over him, he noted. Definitely over six feet. He only reached five-nine or ten thereabouts. An all-around average height for a guy.

"You seem to be a real go-getter, Hank. That means you have promise. I like promise," Jack said. "You take initiative, you take action, you do your research. I'm impressed. I'm curious to see how things go with Dr. Drakken. If he plays hard to get, I'll throw in a good word for you how about? Not that I think he will."

"Thank you, sir," Hank replied, smiling up at the man. Hench walked into a room and Hank paused, frowning uncertainly. Was he supposed to follow him inside?

"Perkins?" Hench said, looking back.

"Coming sir!" Hank quickly replied, following. Jack entered into another room, a Board one, and Hank gasped upon walking in as well. Hench's legal team! A lot of big names he saw right off the bat. The best of the best! A couple he recognized from lectures and classes in law school and he really hoped they didn't recognize him in turn.

"Gentlemen, gentlewomen, gentlepeople even! My thanks in advance for your accommodation. Shall we get started?" Jack said, leaning on the table with his hands but not sitting. Hank stood behind him, unsure of why he was still here and feeling a little underdressed at this point. Which was really saying something, because he usually dressed for success. You never saw him out of a nice dress shirt, pants, and tie at the very least. Today he'd even worn a suit jacket, and it still didn't feel like enough! It was a bargain find and didn't exactly match the pants, and goodness knew these people could probably tell as much, so yeah. Feeling out of place was an understatement.

"Jack, what's the meaning of this report we've all been seeing? You walking out of your building with some stranger attached to you by the hip, and suddenly that stranger decides to play lawyer?" one of the lawyers—an older mustachioed man who was clearly the head, and happened to also be a regular lecturer in university—said.

"Yes, let's talk about this stranger who followed me out. Explain to me why my crack legal team keeps on advising me to deny the undeniable, while some upstart barely out of law school realizes it's pointless and instead decides to embrace it, turn it on its head, and flip it to my advantage?" Jack demanded, tone hard. Hank blinked, taken aback by this. The team of lawyers looked equally flabbergasted. Jack put on a smile again, turning to him. "Mr. Perkins, should this business idea of yours fall flat or not pan out, fall back on your law degree. Clearly you're more qualified than some of my most qualified. Tell me, what was your angle?"

"I-I-I… Sir, it was to paint a better picture of the situation! One that was as much truth as untruth. They already had a weak case in the fact Kim Possible was trespassing on unlawful orders from Global Justice—if anything had happened to her, a strong case could have been made for the defense of home and assets already—so I just wanted to drive that wedge in a little deeper. Sometimes reasonable doubt is all you need to end a trial for good. Embracing the recording means no one can accuse you of hiding anything, you can claim total transparency, and no one can definitively argue that you had malicious intent in offering an incentive to get Kim Possible into your clutches alive besides! To even call your slip-up a mistake is, to put it bluntly, laughable. It was just the narrative GJ wanted to push. You lay low a while and hold to your own narrative, what can they do?"

"And he continues to refrain from technically giving me any legal council even now! Perkins, if this business venture of yours doesn't pan out, might I suggest you join my legal team?" Hench said.

"No comment," Hank replied.

"I like this kid. I like him a lot," Hench said, grinning at his legal team a cross between scornfully and mockingly. "Dismissed Perkins, and remember, keep me posted on how things work for you with Drakken."

"Yes sir, thank you again sir!" Hank replied, offering his hand to shake. Jack took it and Hank made sure to give his best handshake using all the tricks. The way Hench's eyes lit up told him the man was impressed, and Hank left that room giddy.

His giddiness was short-lived, as it turned out. Drakken was a great client, and the front they'd come up with together? Masterful. Hench had even put up the money to buy out the first store when Hank had asked him who he should go to if he wanted to get a loan for it, and that had made his day! They were raking in the moola, the henchmen had begun functioning like a real unit, Hank had documented absolutely everything he'd done and the results of it to show to Hench in an update or profile, and then of course things went sour. Kim Possible showed up, and that was the beginning of the end.

It ended about as well as expected. The cupcake business went bankrupt practically overnight, and then, well, there was nothing. He sat alone in a bar and grill despondent, trying to figure out where he'd gone wrong and how it had gone so bad. If his prospects hadn't been shot before, they were shot now, and yet again something he threw his heart and soul into was going to end in failure. He flipped through his documentation and decided there probably wasn't anything in it worth showing to Hench in the end, because it had all ended in disaster and just… He sighed. He was frankly surprised he wasn't under arrest by now. He slammed the portfolio shut in annoyance and groaned, burying his face in his hands. What was he going to do?

His phone rang and he answered it almost second nature without even checking. "Hank Perkins speaking," he said.

"Hank! How's every little thing?" the last voice he wanted to hear answered.

He gasped so loudly he must have inhaled half the oxygen in the room. "Mr. Hench!" he exclaimed in a rush. "S-sir, as pleased as I am to hear from you, I'm afraid now really isn't a good time for a…"

"So, Lipskey's latest scheme went belly up I take it?" Hench asked.

Hank was quiet a beat. "I… You heard about that, huh?"

"Yeah," Hench replied. Hank was silent. "Drowning your woes in a bar isn't going to help you get back on your feet, Perkins. You know that, right?"

Hank started. "How did you know where…?" he began.

"Look out the window and across the street," Hench replied. Quickly Hank looked and started, eyes widening. Across the street was a sleek car and Jack Hench leaning up against it in the rain with a cell phone to his ear. The man smiled and waved. "How's the food? Worth coming in for?"

Hank was quiet, trying to figure out how to react to this. "Yes?" he more questioned than answered.

"Get me a menu. I'll be inside in a moment," Jack said.

"Sir, I really don't think…!" Hank began. Jack hung up pointedly, waved the cell phone in the air, locked the car, and started heading in to meet up with the mortified Perkins.

Jack carefully read through the documentation Hank had written up regarding his partnership with Dr. Drakken, every so often nodding his head or pursing his lips and furrowing his brow. Hank had broken into a nervous sweat and now waited anxiously to hear what Hench had to say about the situation. Did he want to know, he uneasily wondered? He wasn't sure he did. He looked around. The bar and grill had cleared out. Technically it was closed, but no one was going to kick them out just yet, though it seemed they were discussing it.

Finally, Jack shut the portfolio and Hank jumped a bit in surprise. "Let's move this evaluation somewhere out of the way, why don't we?" Hench said.

"E-evaluation?" Hank uneasily asked, unsure whether the man was genuine or taking a crack at his penchant for holding those. He'd also had a penchant for doing focus groups, which probably hadn't gone unnoticed by the business mogul.

"Waiter, check please," Jack said, raising a finger. The waiter was all too happy to bring it over. "Mr. Perkins, my treat. I insist," he said.

"Sir, you really don't have to…" Hank began.

"I insist," Jack cut off. "Meals and Meetings. It's a write-off." Hank swallowed and nodded, starting to get a sense of how it felt to be the one on the receiving end of a persistent person who wouldn't take no for an answer. Jack paid then rose. "Perkins," he said. Hank stood and awkwardly followed the man out and to his car. They slipped inside, Jack started the engine, and soon they were enroute to HenchCo.

Neither of them spoke for the entirety of the trip. Hank was too nervous and kept stealing uneasy glances at Hench. Hench was smirking, focused on the road and seemingly indifferent to it all. The car pulled up to HenchCo HQ, and Jack got out. Hank uncertainly did so as well, holding his bundle of documents close. Nervously he followed the man's lead. "Sir, about the loan for that first store. I can pay you back out of the profits we made from…" he began, not wanting to be on the man's bad side. Just in case.

"Don't worry about it," Jack cut off.

Hank wasn't sure what to make of that but kept following. Jack brought him straight to the employee lounge, and he gasped in shock and awe, eyes widening. It was gorgeous! "Whoa…" he said.

"Mr. Perkins, take a seat," Hench said, gesturing to a table. "Anything to drink?" Hank shook his head numbly, again too nervous to even consider it. "I hope you don't mind if I treat myself then," Hench said. Hank again shook his head as he sat. Hench smiled and got himself a drink before joining Hank at the table. "So, tell me. Where do you think you went wrong?" he asked.

"I-I…" Hank stammered before stopping and bowing his head. "I don't know. I thought I was doing everything right, but…"

"You know, there's a such thing as doing too much," Hench cut off. Hank looked curiously at him. Jack took the documents back, pulled out a highlighter, and began going through them, highlighting various sections and pieces of information. "Your business sense is good, but you have a tendency to go overboard. A place for everything and everything in its place. Now that's all well and good, but having too many branches often muddies the waters. Makes navigating the nuances of a company structure more of a labyrinth than it has to be. This, for example." He pointed out a section. "The henchman that was told to do something but stated he couldn't because it wasn't in his skillset. Train someone up in one thing, they become useless when that one thing needs to overlap with another they haven't been trained for. To a degree, it's great for team building! Not so much independence though. If you've trained someone up to a point where they can't stand on their own merits should someone not show up to work one day, or get sick, or get hurt, it does more damage than good. I count no less than fifty separate titles and branches here. That, my boy, is what one might call 'overkill'. Many of these branches could have been consolidated into one singular branch. To put it plainly, you overdid it on the corporate. Big time. Then, when things got more complicated, your business model imploded on itself. All the little branches you laid out weren't strong enough to hold up under the load. Like a ground trap you cover up with sticks and leaves. It looks strong on the outside, but put much weight on it and you end up falling through and getting trapped in a pit with no way out." Jack made a few notes, then showed them to Hank, who started. "How many branches do you see here?"

"Fifteen," Hank said in disbelief.

"And if I really went hard, I could drop it down even more. Notice how many things I cover in each branch? You want IT? Train people up for IT. Don't train one up for Director of Computer Technologies, one for Software Overseer, one for Chief Troubleshooter, etc. Train twenty up for IT and throw in some specializations. Cover all the bases in one go. Elsewhere, tackle Human Relations. One thing. Not Director of Posters, Director of Emails, Spokesperson for Paper News, Spokesperson for Televised News, Spokesperson for Internet News… You get where I'm coming from, right?" Hench said.

"Well, now that you mention it, I suppose I did get a little overenthusiastic with the titles and branches," Hank sheepishly said, feeling awkward and a bit embarrassed now.

"Your head's in the right place, Perkins. You just need someone to help focus and guide it," Jack said.

"How would you have dealt with the low-carb fad that did it in?" Hank asked.

"Low-carb cupcakes. What else?" Jack replied, smirking. "Hey there all you health food fanatics! Love dessert but not the carbs that come with it? Well have we got a sweet treat for you! Hank's Gourmet Cupcakes is pleased to announce our latest and greatest innovation yet. Hank's Low-Carb Delights! Want to indulge in delicious, mouth-watering, melt-in-your-mouth delicacies guilt-free? Our Low-Carb Delights offer you just that. The taste and texture of all the goodies you love without the guilt. Try one today! Free sample with any half-dozen cupcakes bought. Hanks Gourmet Cupcakes. We've got you dieting die-hards covered."

"Wow. That's good," Hank said, eyes wide. "But I guess it's too little too late now, isn't it?" he added, hanging his head a bit. "Somehow I doubt Drakken can recover from this, so guess I can kiss any stellar reviews from him goodbye. Now everyone he might have spread it to already will see he went bankrupt and well, there goes my credibility. And my potential clientele. At this point is it even worth it to try again?"

"Always. If you're going to let setbacks like that stop you, you should probably review your choice of career," Jack answered. "We all face obstacles, Perkins. Even I did at first. If you had any idea how many times my first business almost went belly up… You know, for the longest time I couldn't even break a thousand on it. Just stagnated there. Never seemed to grow, only shrink, and it would never grow above maybe one-thousand-five-hundred. If it ever broke more, it didn't stay there long. If I told you how many times I was on the verge of giving up… Listen, I get your need for investors, I really do. The only reason I didn't give up was because when I was at my lowest, someone showed an interest and saved my bacon. Invested enough to help me recover and get things in order to save myself from bankruptcy. We all start out making mistakes. Sometimes those mistakes are stupid, sometimes they have promise but luck doesn't hold out, sometimes we bite off more than we can chew, sometimes we take a risk and it doesn't pay off like expected. Problems are just…"

"Misunderstood opportunities. I know sir," Hank said, head bowed sadly.

Jack started then smirked in amusement, impressed the young man had remembered that little tidbit. "Right. Pick yourself back up, move on, and if you have to let something go, let it go, but hey, enough of that sort of talk. You want to hear my personal opinion on all this?" Jack asked.

"O-kay?" Hank warily asked.

"You missed your calling," Jack said.

"Should have stuck with law?" Hank ruefully asked.

"No. I told you before you were aiming too high. Now I'm starting to think you're aiming too low. Business and law. Those are your passions, am I right?" Jack said.

"Well, yes, but the two don't necessarily run hand-in-hand, sir. There's business law of course, but that's not what I mean," Hank said.

"Let's back this up, and humor me a bit, but what prevented you from becoming a lawyer?" Jack asked.

"A lack of interested firms or hiring personnel," Hank answered. "I couldn't get an internship, let alone a career."

"What's preventing you from being successful in business?" Jack asked.

"Inexperience, no direction, and lack of focus," Hank answered.

"So here's a thought. What if HenchCo could offer you both?" Jack asked, a glint in his eyes.

Hank stared at him wide-eyed. For a long time, no words were said. "Elaborate," he finally replied, curious.

"This business idea of yours? It's good, but I feel it would better serve you as a side hustle," Jack said. "Not because I don't think it's viable, but because I feel it's a waste of your talents. Talents that could be put to better use elsewhere. Mr. Perkins, you are a very special sort of person. I don't think you really realize just how much so. I'd like to offer you a proposition in fact! An offer that will make sure your skillset is put to its fullest use."

"An offer?" Hank asked, leaning forward now. To say he was curious was an understatement.

"Pursue your business endeavors first and your career in law second. Intern with my legal team and business advisors as a lawyer and consultant and offer both those services to HenchCo. More specifically me. Consider that my investment in your aspirations. Heck, I'll even give you a starting fee right here and now! I could use someone like you, Mr. Perkins. Hank? Man with a good head for business, extensive knowledge of the law… There are some aspects of my company I'm looking to revamp. Clean up. Add to. Your insight could be invaluable, and you'll have the added benefit of being mentored in the ways of business by yours truly. The pay would be handsome, the benefits top-notch… You don't have to give an answer now, but think about it. You have my card."

"I'll do it!" Hank immediately said.

Jack started, surprised, then grinned. "A risk taker! You love to see it," he said. "I'll start drafting up a contract tomorrow, then within the next couple days, we'll meet up, review it, and make whatever changes we deem necessary. Fair enough?"

"Yes sir, of course sir! Sir, you have no idea how much this means to me sir. Any of it! I thank you sincerely, sir, from the very bottom of my heart!" Hank gushed gracelessly, grabbing the man's hand with both his own and pumping it enthusiastically as he beamed, to Jack's vast amusement. He waited for Hank to clue into what he was doing and stop himself. Soon enough the young man did and immediately released his hand, flushing a bit. "Oh, uh, my apologies sir. Excitement got the better of me I'm afraid."

"No harm no foul," Jack replied. "I'm eager to bring you in, Mr. Perkins. I feel you have a lot of untapped potential and youthful enthusiasm. I get the feeling you'll soon be flying higher than you ever dreamed." After all, he inwardly added, it wasn't like his own son had any interest in taking over his company once the old man was out of the picture. Will wasn't all that business-inclined. He had the makings of a good businessman, but not the interest or the drive to pursue it. He was his mother's son in that. "How does lunch on Wednesday sound?"

"I'll put it in my calendar, Mr. Hench. This will be my top priority, I assure you," Hank replied.

"I like you, Perkins. I feel this is the start of a beautiful relationship," Jack said, grinning.

"Jack!" a furious voice shouted. A woman.

Hank started, turning quickly. Jack's grin became a grimace. "And now it might be over before it started," the man said. Hank gave him a curious look, then faced the door again.

The door to the lounge burst open and in stormed a woman who looked absolutely livid. Hank had never seen her before, but she wore a GJ uniform, so he'd go out on a not-so-limb and say she was GJ. What on earth was GJ doing here? He geared up to get into lawyer mode if need be. "You're suing GJ?!" the woman demanded, slamming a piece of paper down on the table.

"Change my mind, Betty," Jack replied with a charming grin. "You have your ways."

She blinked, flushed a bit, glanced at Hank, then frowned at Jack. "This isn't the time, Hench," she said, entering business mode again.

"Dr. Director, may I remind you that you were the one who commissioned Miss Possible to trespass on my property and steal my product?" Jack replied.

"Without probable cause," Hank threw in.

"What he said," Jack said, jerking a thumb Hank's way.

"And who is 'he'?" Dr. Director asked, eyeing the young man suspiciously.

"Hank Perkins ma'am, a pleasure to meet you," Hank said, offering his hand. She warily took it, and he shook firmly.

"Latest pet project, Jack?" Dr. Director bit, turning to the man.

"What can I say? I have an eye for talent," Jack replied, smirking.

"Your new lawyer, is he?" Dr. Director asked.

"My new Jack of All Trades, we'll say," Jack replied, smirking.

"So, a miniature you," Betty said. She looked at Hank but continued to address Hench. "I'm going to go out on a limb and say he reminds you of you at his age? I can count on one hand the number of times you've given anyone a second look and actually followed through on it. This one though… You're bringing him right into the fold. He's different than the others. Special. I can't place it, but everyone else you've dealt with like this has been considered an invaluable asset outside of HenchCo. Never directly in it." Hank shifted a bit. This woman seemed very familiar with Jack. He almost felt like he was intruding on a moment by being here. The woman looked back at Jack. "So, what's the story? What's going on in that conniving brain of yours? Level with me."

"Honey, you'll spoil the surprise," Jack said. "But I suppose dropping it on his head isn't going to be the best idea I've ever had." He turned to Hank. "Mr. Perkins, full disclosure, complete transparency, no hidden agendas. The truth is I'm not getting any younger. I'd very much like not to work until I die, and enjoy a retirement someday. For some time now I've been seeking a potential replacement. Someone who can take on my company after I'm dead and gone or out of the picture. Someone who can keep it growing and thriving," Hank's jaw dropped, his eyes going comically wide. He couldn't even find the air to gasp. "Like I said, untapped potential," Jack said, smirking. "You're shooting too low. Aim higher. You want to soar with eagles? Now you have the chance. Impress me and you'll fly higher than you ever dreamed."

"And where will that leave our son?" Betty asked.

"Wait, what?" Hank immediately said.

"Hank, my wife, my wife, Hank," Jack said.

"Betty Director," Dr. Director said, frowning at Jack before looking to Hank again. "In case you hadn't guessed somehow, I'm his wife. We're separated. We have an eighteen-year-old son, Will Du, who works for Global Justice."

"He's his mother's son more than his father's. Has no interest in taking on HenchCo after I'm out of the picture. If he did, I'd be developing it instead of looking outside my bloodline for an 'heir', so to speak," Jack said to Hank before looking to Dr. Director again with a frown. "Will is in line to become the future Director of Global Justice. You have your successor, Betty. Let me have mine. My potential, rather. If he impresses and is interested that is. The offer stands either way."

"You bet I'm interested sir!" Hank said, pumping his fist and arm across his body in a go-getter manner. Slowly it was dawning on him everything that Hench was offering, and he was over the moon! "I'm always up for a challenge."

"Oh gods, he is a mini you," Dr. Director said, double face-palming.

She had no idea how much of a compliment that was to him Hank figured as he beamed in excitement. He turned to Hench. "Mr. Hench, I'm flattered sir. I-I don't even know what to say! I won't let you down, I promise!"

"Hank, might I say I love your can-do attitude," Hench said.

"What am I witnessing here?! None of this is the point of my visit! Call off the lawsuit Jack, I warn you," Dr. Director said.

"Convince me," Jack replied, tone low in a way that made Hank's smile instantly vanish as it dawned on him just what Hench meant when he said 'convince me' and 'you have your ways'. Knowing Dr. Director was his wife kind of filled in the blanks there.

"I uh, I'm going to assume you don't want legal council on this one, do you sir?" Perkins awkwardly remarked.

"Dismissed Perkins. I'll see you at lunch on Wednesday," Jack said.

Hank glanced at Dr. Director, who was flushing red, and awkwardly cleared his throat. "Of course sir. Have a, um, good night." Quickly he made his way out of the lounge and headed home to review and assess everything that was happening. Boy, talk about golden opportunities. Today marked the first day of the rest of his career he knew, and he could hardly wait to bite into it.

The first thing he did after leaving Hench was get his criminal record expunged. It cost a pretty penny, but it was for the greater good. Now he could confidently assure his new boss that his record was as clean as a whistle. He could barely sleep the couple of nights leading up to Wednesday, but willed himself to because it would never do to be off his game and tired during a business meeting. Especially when the man you were meeting had as sharp a mind as Jack Hench.

Come Wednesday, he was practically vibrating with excitement. It took his everything to be patient for dinner. He'd emailed Drakken with a plan for getting Hank's Cupcakes up and running again if he ever wanted to, but he didn't expect a reply. Still, it was something to do. He'd emailed Lucre some information on the latest computer technologies as well to help him improve his hacking rate. He'd given Motor Ed Wacky Wally's contact information because Ed was looking to spice up his formula, he'd phoned up Adrena Lynn and given her a hot tip about an upcoming competition with a nice cash prize she might like to steal or win, and he'd checked up on Killigan just to touch base and re-establish that connection so he had one more big hitter to put out there in case anyone asked about his clientele. He'd re-establish contact with all of them again later once he got this law thing figured out. Playing defense attorney to a clientele of mostly supervillains would really get his foot in that niche market. Put him dangerously close to Better Call Paul levels of recklessness, but Supervillains were a little more sophisticated than cartels were. How Jack was able to handle them was beyond his understanding, but hopefully he'd get the opportunity to learn.

Around the time the meeting was to take place, he booked it out of his small home and drove straight to the bar and grill he had met Jack at two nights ago. Jack had rented out a private room this time he knew, so they could talk uninterrupted. He could hardly contain his excitement! He wouldn't show up too early or too late, he promised himself. He'd aim for right on the button leaning towards too early! Better safe than sorry. Being early left a far better impression on an employer than being late did. He walked in about two minutes early, announced his arrival, and was promptly led to the room Jack would meet him in.

"Mr. Perkins," Jack greeted, standing and offering his hand. Hank grinned and shook it, remembering the tricks and how Jack had appreciated his know-how before.

"Mr. Hench. It's an absolute honor, Sir," Hank said. He'd worn his best suit this time! It fit all right and was more or less matching. It wasn't tailor-made like Hench's clearly was, but it was the best he could do on his mediocre budget. Besides, he was fond of it. Sentimental value. All it really needed was a bit of refitting. In fact, this was the outfit he'd worn when working with Drakken.

"The honor is mine, Mr. Perkins," Jack said. "Shall we discuss the contract?"

"Of course sir," Hank replied.

The two of them sat, and Hank waited as Jack fished in his briefcase for the contract. Soon he pulled it out and lay it down. "Take a gander. Tell me what you think."

Hank took the contract and read through it with a lawyer's eye because he really couldn't help but do as much. It was good practice anyway. Not that he expected it to be a challenge. Goodness knew how many years Jack had been doing this, and far as Hank could tell, there'd never been a cause for complaint when it came to contracts the man made. The nature of his business was about as shady as shady could get, but his dealings with his clients were fair and honest. Not that he blamed the man, given how deadly said clientele was. Hench really didn't have much choice but to be honest, when all was said and done, because if he was anything else, it would inevitably come back and bite him.

"Everything seems to be in order sir. Reasonable and fair as expected. Your exit clause could use a bit of a touch-up though. As far as favorable outcomes go, it seems you're drawing the short end of the stick," Hank said.

"Your honesty is appreciated, Mr. Perkins, but I'm aware. It was intentional," Jack replied. "Kudos on your jaw not dropping to the floor though, when you saw the payout from my exit package."

"Sir, there's absolutely no doubt in my mind that we'll make this work. You're the last person I could ever see giving up on a venture you've set your mind to," Hank replied. "But uh, it doesn't seem like the best business move," he added, frowning in confusion. "Of course, I'm not questioning you sir, but..!"

"Mr. Perkins, by all means, question me. That's part of your job. To put your mind at ease though, I'm a multi-billionaire. There's no exit clause anyone could ever come up with that would leave me in a bad way. Heck, if I burned up half my wealth, I'd still have more than enough to live it up for the rest of my life," Jack replied, cutting the young man off before he could start rambling.

"What about your son's?" Hank asked. Jack's jaw twitched and Hank's smile fell. Uncomfortably he shifted. Maybe he shouldn't have brought up family?

"I'm gonna need a double," Jack said, picking up the alcohol menu and skimming it with a sigh.

"Sir?" Hank asked, almost afraid to question.

"Mmm, let's just say it's been a rough day," Jack said.

"Understood, sir. I won't bring family up again," Hank said.

"Not mine at least. Tell me about yours though. I'm interested," Jack said.

Hank shifted a little, uncomfortable again. "Anything good on that menu?" he finally asked with a sigh, resting his cheek in his hand.

Jack smiled ruefully. "You too huh? Parents, I'd guess?"

"Or lack thereof, as the case may be," Perkins replied. He sighed again, straightening up. "They were barely in my life growing up, and they're barely in my life in adulthood. Let's just leave it at that. Pretty sure they never really wanted a kid in the first place. They were greedy cheapskates though, and I mean, children come with tax breaks I guess… Honestly, I should consider myself lucky I was the only one they had. Guess they figured a bigger tax break wasn't worth the effort. The day after I graduated high school, they were packing up and moving out. Left me on my own in their decrepit house and headed for greener pastures, but I'd seen it coming for a long time. Knew my parents were the last people I'd be able to rely on even as a kid, so I saved up every penny I earned and every dime they tossed me. I squirreled away the money I got for my high school graduation from relatives and family friends and put myself through business and law school without them! Was probably better off for it too."

"That's the spirit! Don't let anyone hold you down," Jack said. "I certainly didn't."

"Who tried to hold you down?" Hank asked.

"An Uncle. Not important," Jack said, quickly shutting down that line of questioning.

"That bad huh?" Hank said, grimacing.

"How about that double?" Jack replied. Hank smirked and nodded.

"I must say sir, I never pegged you for a cocktail person," Hank said when their drinks came.

"I wasn't always, but my wife got me hooked," Jack replied, smirking. "And you. A tequila man I see. Unexpected, but I suppose I can see it. So, Perkins, background. Tell me about yourself," Jack said, leaning back and tenting his fingers. "Twenty-three, law degree, business degree, side hustle… Any other surprises?"

Hank hesitated a moment, unsure whether to come clean about the record. "Well, I worked at a temp agency when I was twenty-two. I ended up hired by Duff Killigan who was working with Dr. Drakken, who as far as I understand got sick in the middle of their scheme. I suppose that left Mr. Killigan to handle things alone and I guess he needed the extra pair of hands. Shego was out of commission too you see."

"I fail to see Killigan's logic in turning to a temp agency for help, especially when he intended to explore things outside the scope of the law, but go on," Jack said.

"Oh, I agree with you, sir. He would have been far better off turning to you I feel," Hank said.

"Brown noser," Jack teased

"Not at all my intention sir," Hank replied. "It just seems that what you provide would have been much more in line with what he was looking for."

"But not at all in line with his budget," Jack replied, smirking a little. "Man may live in a castle, but he certainly doesn't have the wealth to reflect as much. One of the poorer of my clients in fact. Maybe I should revisit some of my price points."

"I couldn't agree more sir! After all, not every supervillain starts out independently wealthy," Hank said. "Anyways, things seemed to be going well, but as per usual when dealing with Miss Possible, it inevitably backfired on them. On me too for that matter. I was caught in the crossfire. I suppose I deserved it though. Got slapped with some jail time and a record, but rest assured sir, I've had that all expunged."

"Mmm hmm. How long in jail?" Jack asked as the drinks were brought.

"A year. Knocked down to six months for good behaviour then appealed down to three," Hank said, taking his own and sipping at it. Jack laughed. Hank frowned curiously, failing to see what was so funny.

"Clearly I know how to pick 'em," Jack said with a grin. Hank tilted his head, puzzled. "Never mind Perkins. Personal joke. Tell me, did you use your law expertise on that one?"

"Never a better time sir," Perkins replied. "It was that or kiss half a year of my life goodbye. I barely survived the three months I was in. The law degree was all that kept me from, well, look at me and take a guess." Jack grimaced. He got it. "Let's just say I made friends in all the right places," Perkins said.

Jack smiled at him again in amusement. Betty hadn't been kidding when she suggested Perkins might be a mini him. The young man was more like he was than his own son… His smile slowly fell at the realization. Well, that thought was depressing as all get up. "I think I need a triple," Jack dryly said.

"Was it something I said?" Perkins asked with a concerned frown.

"No. Just a stray, somewhat upsetting thought. Unrelated to the topic at hand. Don't worry about it, Hank," Jack replied.

"Well, I'm here if you need me, sir," Hank said, offering a small smile.

Jack smiled back. "So, tell me. Who are these friends in high places of yours?"

"Attorney-Client privilege I'm afraid, Mr. Hench," Hank said. "But some business advice? You might be dealing with a mild influx of customers in the coming months."

"Not even fully hired and already you're boosting my business. Perkins, you just keep surprising," Hench said. "So, lunch. What are you thinking of getting?"

"Oh, just a garden salad I think sir," Hank replied, looking the menu over. "The in-house dressing is to die for."

"Come now Perkins, splurge a little," Jack encouraged. "I've heard the breadsticks are delicious."

"I don't eat much bread sir," Perkins replied. "In fact, I really don't eat much at all. Sensitive stomach. Maybe I'll try the chicken cordon bleu though. Then again, the price seems a little steep and…"

"Meals and Meetings, Hank. Write-off. Don't worry. I intend to teach you all the little tricks," he said with a wink. Hank lit up, grinning, and Jack couldn't help but feel even further drawn to the young man. The perky spirit, reflective of this young man's name, couldn't help but draw you in. Hank was easy to like, of that there was no question. Had a way about him that relaxed you. Made you let your guard down. Jack knew it well. After all, he had it too. He'd have to watch himself around this one, he figured. It had been a long, long time since he'd had to worry about anything like that… "So, sensitive stomach huh? How long has that been an issue?" Jack asked.

"Oh, since childhood sir. I've uh, never been particularly healthy," Hank said, flushing a little. "But I assure you, sir, that doesn't stop me! Not for a second."

"Clearly," Jack replied, amused. "You know, Hank, you don't have to reassure me of your competence whenever you tell me something about yourself that you consider negative."

Hank shifted, looking a little uncomfortable. "But sickly employees…" he began.

"Can be every bit as valuable as healthy ones," Jack cut off. "As long as you're a good, dedicated worker, I'm going to be more than happy to work around any conditions you may have. So, spill. What are we dealing with here?"

Perkins hesitated. "I… I don't really know sir. It's been an ongoing condition for some time now, but a doctor hasn't really been in the cards for me," he confessed, hunching in on himself a bit.

"Elaborate," Jack said.

"Well, as far as personal finance goes, I don't have a lot of it. Doctors are expensive, especially for someone without insurance," Hank said.

"Surely you were on your parents' plan," Jack said. Hank's cheek ticked ever so slightly, and Jack frowned a little. Something told him he'd struck a sensitive chord.

"With all due respect Mr. Hench, when I said my parents were cheapskates who had a kid for the tax breaks, I wasn't dressing it down," Hank said, looking down at the table now. "Insurance has a limit. Why waste any of what you have on a child you didn't really want anyway?" He picked up his drink and stared at it a moment, swirling it around. He'd drank about half, Jack noticed. Maybe that double was loosening his lips just enough that the young man would let slip something more. "Perhaps I shouldn't have gotten a double," Hank said as he placed the cup down, seeming to realize he was getting careless. "My apologies sir. A business meeting isn't the place to unload one's personal woes on someone they barely know, much less a prospective employer."

"No, it's fine. In fact, I'm quite curious what sort of environment fostered such an ambitious young man," Jack replied, leaning back and putting on a casual, interested smile.

"Not the type of environment you'd think," Hank quietly answered, staring at the table.

Now Jack Hench was good at putting people at ease. From the most trusting to the most jaded and suspicious, he'd dealt with it all. Like Perkins, he had a way of getting you to let your guard down. In the business he was in, he didn't have much choice. If you wanted to stay alive, you learned everything and anything there was to know about the people you dealt with. Know more about them than they know about you. Know more about them than they even know you know in fact! That's how he'd thrived dealing with the sorts of people he dealt with.

It had been a long time since last he was genuinely interested in a person beyond what they could offer, but Hank? Betty had been right. Hank was different than the others, and Hench couldn't help but feel drawn to him. He was genuinely curious about his life and upbringing. He truly wanted to know more about the young man. Get a real sense of the sort of person he was and the type of life he'd lived. If this kid, barely a man, was going to fill the role of his successor, then he needed to know him like he knew the back of his hand.

"Go on," Jack prompted, leaning forward and balling his hands together with his ever-hypnotic smile. Hank shifted a little uncomfortably. Hmm, this one would be a little tougher to crack than most, Jack noted, but then what had he expected? The longer he spent with the young man, the more of himself he saw in him… It was almost eerie, honestly. "Come on Hank. All cards on the table," he pressed. "You trust me and I'll trust you."

Hank shifted again, but finally caved. Not because he'd been lulled into a false sense of security as others had been, but because he too realized how mutually beneficial this relationship had the potential to be. Symbiotic even! A person with that kind of eye for that kind of opportunity was a valuable person to have, Jack knew, and it only reaffirmed his determination to get the boy under his wing as soon as possible before anyone else could see his potential and snatch him up.

"I've told you probably more than enough about my parents as is, but there's plenty more where that came from," Hank said. "Let's just say it's a miracle I survived to adulthood at all. When I was a child, I battled tuberculosis. If not for extended family pushing them to get me to a doctor, I probably wouldn't have survived. They paid for the treatments out of pocket using the money I'd saved up for myself through the usual business ventures children get involved in. Lemonade stand, lawn mowing, raking leaves, newspaper route. What the money didn't cover they put on a tab, FYI. Let that one sink in."

"I'd sooner not," Jack wryly said, less than impressed by what he was hearing about the young man's parents.

"Oh, it gets worse," Hank said.

"Oh no," Jack said with a wry smirk.

"Family history of stomach cancer. Guess who got it in his teens?" Hank said, swirling his finger and pointing at himself. Jack started, smile instantly vanishing. "Yeah. Me. Guess who couldn't be bothered playing nurse or putting out the cash it would take to treat it? My parents. You want to know how I survived? Family. Again. Family who pushed them to bite the bullet and use their benefits to, you know, keep their kid from dying a slow, excruciatingly painful death before twenty. To their credit, they agreed to it. On the condition I paid them back for whatever they spent on treatments and appointments of course."

"And you somehow think your sensitive stomach and lack of appetite are okay to not have checked out?" Jack asked a little more curtly than intended.

"No sir," Hank admitted, not meeting his eyes. "It's just… it's not something I can afford right now. You have to understand Mr. Hench. I'm up to my eyeballs in student debt, to say nothing of the untold amounts of money I owe to my parents on top of that! I'm not experiencing the same symptoms as I did back when I was battling cancer, so honestly, I'm taking my chances that it's not a relapse and just hoping for the best. But don't you worry sir. I'll get myself checked out as soon as I can. I'm currently looking into insurance options and affordable clinics, so…"

"Hold on, stop everything," Jack said, raising his hands and closing his eyes as he tried to wrap his brain around what he was hearing. He opened his eyes once more, focusing on Hank with a look in his eyes and a tightening in his jaw that made the young man suddenly immensely uncomfortable. "Basically, what you're telling me is you had to quite literally beg your parents for your life, and they agreed to let you keep existing on this planet as long as you were willing to pay up."

Hank blinked at him as if that thought hadn't ever even crossed his mind. Suddenly he looked extremely uncomfortable and began to shift. "Well, I uh, I never thought of it like that, but…"

"Who were your parents, Mr. Perkins?" Jack asked.

"Sir, maybe we should postpone this meeting for another day," Hank said, desperate to escape this line of questioning now.

"Mr. Perkins…" Jack began.

"Sir please!" Hank pled desperately, shouting it out louder than he'd intended and immediately catching his breath upon realizing what he'd just done, clamping both his hands over his mouth with eyes widening in shock and terror as it dawned on him what he was sharing. He let out a sharp breath of air and looked up at Jack, seemingly terrified.

Jack stared at him, taken aback by the outburst, but the look in the young man's eyes… It stirred something deep and primal within him. Touched on his most base instincts. Drew up inside his soul the same sort of things he felt whenever he saw his own son frightened or vulnerable or hurting.

"Alright," he finally relented, leaning back and trying to save face. You see, he realized about that time that he had slipped up too… "No more questions about your past. Scout's honor," he added, forcing the casual, easy-going smile back to his lips in the hopes of salvaging this. He wasn't sure at this point that it could be salvaged though, and really that was more his fault than Hank's. The young man was quiet, staring into his drink and stirring it looking deeply upset. "I'm sorry Hank. I shouldn't have pried," Jack said, tone softening.

"No, it's-it's okay. Just… I never really… It shook me is all sir, I just…" he trailed off, clamping his mouth shut.

Jack damned himself for breaching this topic, guilt welling within him. He'd unintentionally forced Hank to face the demons of his past. Look back on years and years of what could only be described as severe neglect if not outright abuse and realize how truly bad it had been. Gods knew how many years of coping mechanisms he'd just torn down with his careless words, and now it was all collapsing down around the aspiring businessman, stripping him of any protective barriers he'd erected over those years and leaving him completely exposed and vulnerable.

"I think I need to go home," Hank at last said, voice quiet. It broke ever so slightly as well, and Jack damned himself again for his error.

"Okay," he replied calmly.

"I'm sorry sir. Maybe-maybe we can reschedule. That is if you still…" Hank began.

"I'm more concerned about whether you want to keep going with this," Jack said gently.

"I just need time is all," Hank said, standing up quickly. "I… thank you for this opportunity, Mr. Hench. Really. If-if you want to continue this, I'd be happy to take the contract home and read over it again, then-then maybe the next time we meet we can…"

"Hank, take this time for you, not for me or for business," Jack said. It was starting to make sense now, he realized. How that sort of environment had fostered such an industrious and determined young man. All his ambitions and aspirations, all that working towards plans and dreams, had been how Hank coped. They were his way of proving to himself that he was worth loving. Proving to himself he wasn't just a waste of space or a tax break. Proving to himself that he mattered and that there was more to his life than just existing. It also explained the excessive micromanaging Hank had done during his business venture with Drakken. Everything in its place, every thread controlled. Goodness knew how long he'd lacked any of it. "When you think you're ready, you have my number. Heck, you can even come right into the office if you'd prefer."

"Thank you," Hank said, starting to leave. He paused at the door though. "I-I just realized. Driving after drinking…"

"I'll have my chauffeur drop you off," Jack said, standing himself.

"But my car…" Hank began, still seeming to be in a state of shock.

"Hank, it'll be taken care of," Jack said. When the young man didn't protest and only nodded, Jack knew for sure it was a state of shock and cursed himself out viciously. Sighing, he approached the young man and placed a hand on his shoulder, gently guiding him out. Hank obeyed almost zombie-like.

The drive to the young man's home was almost completely silent. Hank had told the chauffeur the address and hadn't spoken since, instead just staring out the window numbly. Jack was silent. He wished he knew what to say or do, but this? This was out of his element… No wonder he'd never been able to be the sort of father his son had needed him to be. He didn't have a clue what he was doing when he wasn't putting on airs, and that realization was, well, it was more than a little scary… It had been a long time since he'd last gone to see a psych, he realized. Maybe he was about due to give it another go.

He pulled the old card out of his pocket, examining it thoughtfully. You know what? There was someone who needed this more right now. "Hank," he said. Perkins stirred ever so slightly and turned curiously to him. He held out the card between two fingers. "Something to think about."

Hank took it curiously and read it over. His face fell a little. "I can't afford…" he began.

"Under the HenchCo benefits plan, yes you can," Hench replied. "I take the physical and mental well-being of my employees very seriously. Medical, dental, extended, we have it all. HenchCo insurance is top of the line," Hank looked over at him once more, eyes wide and hopeful again, almost overwhelmed. It was more than a little relieving to see at least a sign of that spark in his eyes once more. Jack smiled at him. Genuinely this time, not the snake-oil smile he usually sported. "You're going to be alright, Mr. Perkins. Just take care of yourself first. Can you do that for me?"

Hank managed a smile, straightening up a little more. "Yes sir," he said.

"Good boy," Jack praised. "Or man, I suppose."

Hank chuckled a little and looked at the card once more, then hesitated. "Sir, does this benefits plan include…?"

"Hank, I wasn't kidding about the medical. Just about everything you could ever need is covered under our plan. Get yourself healthy, get yourself checked out, and whatever you learn, tell me about it, alright? At this point I'm personally invested in your health and well-being," he said.

"Yes sir, of course sir," Hank said, starting to seem more like his normal self again.

Jack grinned and leaned back in his seat. "The card and papers will arrive by tomorrow. Express delivery. The sooner you can get a handle on the health thing, the better."

"I… thank you, Sir. For all of this. It… it means more to me than you know," Hank said, looking back at the card. Jack nodded.

Soon the car pulled up to Hank's house and Hank unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door. "Mr. Perkins, when I mentioned I might need a triple at dinner, you asked if it was something you said." Hank looked curiously back at him. "I told you it was a stray, unrelated thought, and while true, I never really elaborated, did I?"

"No sir?" Hank replied, curious now.

Jack nodded and considered his words. "I was thinking about my son," he said.

"Sir?" Hank asked in a measure of concern.

"Another time, Hank. Another time," Hench said. "Trust me and I'll trust you."

"Yes sir," Hank said, mildly confused but understanding that Mr. Hench probably wasn't in the mental space right now to discuss the matter further. He hesitated briefly. "Mr. Hench, you'll take care of yourself too, right?"

Jack glanced over at him, visibly amused, then chuckled and nodded with a smile. "I will, Hank. Promise." Hank smiled and left the car, shutting the door behind him and walking into his house. Jack waited until the young man was safely inside, then motioned for the chauffeur to drive. The chauffeur did so, and Jack frowned, leaning back and considering his next move. First things first, he bitterly determined. Find out who Hank's parents were and pay them a little visit, he'd call it. Whether it would be a cordial one or less than cordial was anyone's guess and entirely up to them. He took care of his people. Enough said.