AN: I apologize for missing last week's upload. Unfortunately, last week was suddenly and very busy Sunday through Wednesday, so I did not have time to edit and publish.
"Monte-en-l'Air! So it's you!"
La Gymnaste cocked her head to one side in confusion, looking back and forth between Multiplice and the burglar. Who was this Monte-en-l'Air? He wasn't one of the criminals that Killer Bee had worked with – as far as la Gymnaste knew, Lila hadn't known anything about him. But here was another criminal, one that apparently the Heroes of Paris had fought before! And he was standing right in front of them! What was she going to do? Before Lila's arrest, the last time la Gymnaste had fought a criminal, it had been – she suppressed a grimace – Chloe and Sabrina. She had been there when Killer Bee threatened Castutrice, when she scared the Bearator's family. But she'd never really faced a criminal. Aside from Lila.
Did that even count?
The man muttered something under his breath before drawing himself up to his full height. "I see my reputation precedes me."
"Just enough to know you're supposed to still be in prison," Multiplice informed him curtly.
"Time off for good behavior."
Multiplice arched an eyebrow. "I hardly think they consider escaping from prison to be 'good' behavior."
La Gymnaste sucked in a quick breath. The others had talked about a prison break during the Chaos, when a dozen or so prisoners had escaped from La Santé Prison. Some of them had tried to take over the city in the confusion, only to be stopped by a handful of vigilantes. But a few of those escapees had possessed abilities that nearly crippled the city during the Chaos. Was Monte-en-l'Air one of them?
Monte-en-l'Air scoffed. "Please. They could barely keep the lights on – let alone keep the prison secure. It's like they were asking us to escape. Besides," he added, quirking an eyebrow, "with everything else that's been happening lately, it's hardly like they've missed me…"
"It's over," Multiplice told him. Her hand drifted down to the jump rope. "Are you going to come with us the easy way, or do I need to take you in?"
La Gymnaste's eyes widened the slightest bit, and her breath caught in her throat. What was Multiplice thinking? Her eyes darted to Multiplice, standing next to her. Her mouth set in a thin line, her eyes narrowed intently, every muscle in her body coiled and ready to spring. The jump rope uncoiled from around her waist, and she flicked it out to her side with a loud crack.
Monte-en-l'Air's eyes shifted to meet la Gymnaste's, and his lip curled before he returned his focus to Multiplice. He bounced a couple times on the balls of his feet, leaning to one side. "No, I don't think I will. Prison doesn't exactly agree with me."
"It wasn't a request." Multiplice placed one hand on her hip. "You're done robbing people and stealing all their stuff."
He started, his eyebrows furrowed in disgust. "I'm not a robber! I'm a burglar." He scoffed. "I'll sneak into someone's house and take things from them. but I wouldn't ever hurt them. And anyways, if they live in these apartment buildings, they're not going to be out on the street if I take a little bit for myself."
"You're a real Robin Hood, I'm sure. That still doesn't make it any better," Multiplice retorted. A loud noise from the rooftop drew la Gymnaste's attention, and her eyes widened. The bubble of darkness seemed to flicker out for a moment, revealing the figure of the Lancer silhouetted against the sky, pointing her lance as a smaller figure. It was only a momentary glance, however; as she watched, it grew black again and the glimpse vanished. Multiplice let out a shocked noise. "How are you doing that!?"
He grinned. "You're not the only one with friends!"
Sk8r Girl poked her head over the balcony above them. "Is that my cue?" she asked, letting out a piercing howl, answered within moments by barking dogs in the alleyway below.
Multiplice shook her head. "Help the Lancer. Gymnaste and I can handle this guy. Right?"
La Gymnaste stiffened, swallowed nervously. "O–of course, Multiplice," she assured her quickly, nodding a little too eagerly. What did Mylène expect her to do? She didn't belong here! She wasn't a superhero! She'd barely managed to do anything while she was helping Lila – to be a super-criminal! And she was supposed to help Multiplice stop this man… while Multiplice was preg–
Monte-en-l'Air sneered. "Sure. You've definitely convinced me."
She couldn't do this.
A firm hand gripped la Gymnaste's shoulder, and she blinked. Multiplice stared hard into her eyes. "Come on," Multiplice insisted. "There's a reason you're here with me. you can do this – I know you can. We'll take care of him, together. Okay."
La Gymnaste swallowed. Why did Multiplice trust her so implicitly. But she couldn't let her down – not when Multiplice was putting so much faith in her. "O–okay."
Before la Gymnaste was aware of what was happening, Multiplice had already turned back toward Monte-en-l'Air and flicked her jump rope out at him, nearly wrapping him in it before he jumped out of the way, smacking his back into the wall with a pained grunt. Multiplice charged forward, lashing out at him again with her jump rope. "You're coming in with us! You're outnumbered!"
Blinking, la Gymnaste took a hesitant step forward. "Yeah!" she called. "You won't get away from both of us!" Her hands shaking, she detached the collapsible staff from her belt and gave it a quick spin, extending it to the full length. Her heartrate started to slow down, the familiar sensation of the staff in her hand, the familiar motion of twirling drawing her back, momentarily, to an earlier time. Slowly, she sidestepped to her right, placing herself between Monte-en-l'Air and the open street.
Suddenly, Monte-en-l'Air threw himself to one side, then the other, before charging straight at la Gymnaste. Her eyes widening, la Gymnaste stumbled backward, waving her staff wildly to keep him back. With a casual flick of the wrist, Multiplice looped her jump rope around a bar between Monte-en-l'Air and la Gymnaste, boxing him in. Blood pumped in la Gymnaste's ears as Multiplice spoke something to Monte-en-l'Air, an expression of amusement on her face. What was la Gymnaste even doing here? She'd had exactly one chance so far to do something, and she'd blown it! Multiplice braced herself, facing down against Monte-en-l'Air. La Gymnaste could do nothing but watch it unfold in front of her.
Time seemed to stop. La Gymnaste's breathing and heartrate slowed to a crawl. Multiplice held one arm out defensively, even as Monte-en-l'Air charged her. His arm swung around directly toward Multiplice's gut. The baby! Multiplice moved to react, blocking the blow. At that same moment, Monte-en-l'Air threw himself at Multiplice's middle in a flying tackle. La Gymnaste could hardly breathe. Multiplice was in danger! The baby was in danger! She had to do something! Mylène was counting on her. But her limbs all felt as though they were encased in lead. She couldn't move! Her breaths came in shallow gasps; the world was starting to spin around her. She was going to just stand here like an idiot and watch one of her best friends – someone who had helped to save her life – get beaten! And what about the baby? If something happened to the baby, Nadine would never forgive herself. She needed to move. She needed to think. She needed to act, to do something! Dammit! She was so helpless! Cold water seemed to run down her back as Lila's voice whispered in her ear. Pathetic.
"No." La Gymnaste inhaled sharply. You're not here. You're in prison, because I beat you. You don't have any control over me anymore.
The fingers clenched on la Gymnaste's right hand, and she willed herself to move her arm. Suddenly, with a burst of pent-up energy, la Gymnaste threw herself forward, just as Monte-en-l'Air collided with Multiplice. La Gymnaste felt her hand close around Monte-en-l'Air's wrist, and she rolled to the side to twisted him away from Multiplice, pulling with all her might against his momentum. Monte-en-l'Air yelped in surprise. His wrist rotated in her grip, attempting to pull his hand out of her grip, but la Gymnaste's fingers tightened, almost to the point of pain.
"You're not going to hurt my friend!" la Gymnaste shrieked. The staff clattered to the ground between her and Monte-en-l'Air, and she planted her free hand on his shoulder, pushing hard as she pulled on his wrist. He let out a pained grunt and shifted his foot back for leverage. Starting to turn with la Gymnaste's momentum, Monte-en-l'Air planted his foot on her staff, which rolled slightly under him, and he yelped, his feet flying out from under him.
With a loud crash, they both slammed into the ground simultaneously.
Stars flashed in la Gymnaste's vision, the hollow thud from her temple impacting the sidewalk still ringing in her ears. Her grip slackened, but he didn't pull away from her for a long moment. La Gymnaste blinked a couple times and shook her head once before scrambling to her feet. At the same moment, Monte-en-l'Air started to stir, rubbing his forehead. La Gymnaste almost stepped on her staff but caught herself, reaching down slowly and gingerly to pick it back up. Straightening, she gave it a one-handed twirl to rest against her shoulder behind her arm. Blinking and shaking his head groggily, Monte-en-l'Air narrowed his eyes at her and dove at her legs. La Gymnaste yelped, jumping backward away from him, bringing her staff around in front of her and planting it on the ground between them. Grabbing the bottom of the staff, he jerked it toward him, trying to break her grip, but she grabbed onto it with her other hand and held it firmly.
Suddenly, Multiplice's jump rope wrapped around his legs, and she pulled him away from la Gymnaste, laying him out on his back.
"Now stay down!" Multiplice instructed him with an irritated growl.
