Dove pushed open the door to Scoops Ahoy, immediately hit by the familiar smell of sugar and waffle cones. The sound of bickering voices filled the air, Steve and Dustin going back and forth as usual. She walked past the front counter, where Lucas' little sister Erica stood, arms crossed and visibly annoyed as she rang the service bell with increasing impatience.
"Hellooo? All hands on deck," Erica muttered, continuing to ring the bell.
Dove shook her head, knowing full well that neither Dustin nor Steve would be emerging anytime soon. As she headed into the back room, she nearly froze at the sight in front of her.
A ladder was leaning precariously against the wall, and Dustin was halfway into the air duct, his legs kicking in the air as he tried to wriggle inside. Steve stood on the ladder below him, both hands gripping Dustin's legs, clearly attempting to shove him further in, all while Robin watched from the corner with a mixture of amusement and concern.
"What the hell are you guys doing?" Dove demanded, her voice sharp.
The sudden sound startled Steve, who jerked his head to look at her, his grip on Dustin's legs loosening. His sudden movement caused the ladder beneath him to wobble dangerously. His eyes widened in panic, and before he could steady himself, the ladder slipped out from under him with a loud screech. Steve shouted, his arms flailing as he lost his balance. The ladder crashed to the floor with a metallic clang, and Steve followed suit, landing hard on his back with a thud. He groaned in pain, his limbs splayed awkwardly on the ground.
Dustin, now left hanging half-in, half-out of the vent, flailed wildly. "Steve! Steve, help me!" he yelled, trying to pull himself out, but with no leverage, he remained stuck, dangling helplessly.
Robin burst into uncontrollable laughter, doubling over as she leaned against the wall.
Dove stood there, wide-eyed, watching Steve groan on the floor, one hand clutching his elbow as he winced in pain. "Someone better start explaining." she said, her tone a mix of disbelief and amusement.
Steve, still lying flat on the ground, looked up at her, his face scrunched up in embarrassment. "We're uh.. solving mysteries?" he muttered weakly, rubbing the back of his head where he had hit the floor.
"Yeah, we're solving mysteries," Dustin echoed from above, still kicking his legs in the air. "Except now I'm gonna die in this stupid vent because someone couldn't keep their balance!"
Dove shook her head, biting back a smile. "Unbelievable," she muttered, her eyes darting between Steve on the floor and Dustin hanging out of the vent.
Steve groaned as he pushed himself up, rubbing his back where he had landed hard. "Okay, okay, let's get him down before he starts screaming again," he muttered, dusting himself off.
Dove shot him a smirk and stepped forward, both of them grabbing a leg. With a bit of teamwork, they carefully pulled Dustin out of the vent and set him down on the floor. Dustin stood up and brushed off his clothes, glaring at Steve.
Dove raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "So.. what exactly was the plan there?" she asked, glancing behind her and noticing that Robin was gone.
Dove stepped toward the doorway and peeked out, her eyes landing on Robin near the front counter, talking to Erica. Erica's arms were crossed, her face showing no sign of emotion as Robin spoke to her animatedly, gesturing toward the cases of ice cream behind the counter.
Curious, Steve and Dustin joined Dove, and together they watched the scene unfold. Robin leaned in closer to Erica, speaking in hushed tones, while Erica seemed unimpressed. But then, after a beat, Erica glanced between Robin and the ice cream cases. She gave a small nod, her eyes narrowing in thought.
"What is happening right now?" Dustin asked, bewildered.
Robin walked in with a satisfied grin on her face, followed by Erica, who held a small flashlight in her hand.
"Okay, what did you do?" Dove asked, already suspicious.
Robin shrugged nonchalantly. "We need someone smaller to get into that vent, and well, Erica here should do the trick."
Erica tilted her chin up proudly, a smirk dancing across her face. "I'll take a look, but don't get your hopes up. You nerds better know what you're doing." Without another word, Erica climbed up the ladder Steve had hastily set back into place. The faint squeak of the steps echoed in the quiet room as everyone watched her intently.
Once at the top, Erica leaned forward, shining the light into the vent. Her eyes narrowed as she inspected the tight space, her small frame just the right size for the task. "Yeah, I don't know," she said, her voice laced with a hint of teasing as she climbed back down the ladder with an exaggerated sigh.
"You don't know if you can fit?" Dustin asked, his voice dripping with disbelief.
Erica rolled her eyes, hands resting confidently on her hips. "Oh, I can fit," she declared, her tone leaving no room for doubt. "I just don't know if I want to."
Robin raised an eyebrow. "Are you claustrophobic or something?"
Erica let out a short snicker, shaking her head. "Please, I don't have phobias."
Steve, arms crossed over his chest, shifted impatiently. "Okay, so what's the problem then?"
Erica looked him dead in the eye, a mischievous smile forming on her lips. "The problem is, I haven't heard what's in this for Erica."
Robin grabbed the map of Starcourt Mall from the table with a dramatic flourish. "Okay, Steve," she said, pointing a finger in his direction, "you're gonna scoop Erica all the ice cream she wants. Right now."
Steve blinked, taken aback. "All the ice cream?"
"All of it," Robin confirmed, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Erica smirked, clearly enjoying the power she held in this situation. Steve, with a sigh, disappeared into the front of the shop to begin what would become an increasingly ridiculous procession of desserts.
As Erica followed Robin out of the back room, Dove reached out, gently touching Dustin's arm to stop him. "Hey," she said softly, "we should talk."
Dustin turned to her, his expression calm. "It's cool, Dove. Me and Steve talked already. We're good."
Dove blinked, a little surprised but relieved. She studied his face for a moment, unsure whether to press the issue, but Dustin gave her a reassuring nod before heading toward the others.
Meanwhile, in the front, Steve was working overtime to satisfy Erica's endless demands. First, he delivered a towering cone, rainbow sprinkles and all. Erica took it, raising an eyebrow but saying nothing. Next came a dish piled high with mint chip and whipped cream, which she accepted with barely a nod. Then, a double scoop of cookies and cream. And yet, the little queen of negotiation remained unimpressed.
Eventually, he'd brought out a small mountain of desserts: four towering cones, five dishes of varying flavors, two milkshakes that threatened to spill over their rims, and finally, the pièce de résistance—a massive banana split, dripping with whipped cream and cherries. Steve plopped it down in front of Erica with a weary expression.
Erica studied it, her eyes glittering with amusement."More fudge, please" she said casually, sliding the desert back toward stared at her for a solid second, his patience visibly fraying. Erica simply waved him off with a flick of her hand. "Go on," she said, her tone dismissive.
With an exaggerated sigh, Steve turned on his heel and headed back behind the counter to retrieve more fudge, muttering under his breath. Robin shot him a teasing grin, while Dove exchanged an amused look with Dustin as they watched the whole scene play out.
Erica took a long, deliberate sip of one of the milkshakes, her eyes narrowing mischievously. Dove watched the girl, impressed despite herself by the audacity and sheer confidence that seemed to radiate off of her in waves. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Erica leaned back in the booth, a sly grin spreading across her face.
"Okay," she said, sounding entirely too pleased with herself. "So what's the plan?"
Robin shot a victorious glance at both Dustin and Dove. There was an energy crackling in the air now, like they were finally getting somewhere.
"Alright. You see this?" Robin pointed to the red line she had drawn on the map of Starcourt Mall, her finger tracing the route with precision. "This is the route you're gonna take. Then we just wait until the last delivery goes out tonight. Once it's clear, you knock out the grate, jump down, and open the door."
Dove found herself nodding along, even though a small part of her stomach twisted at the idea of a literal child doing the dangerous part of the mission. But they needed someone small, and there was no denying that Erica was their best shot at pulling this off.
Erica, however, didn't seem fazed at all. She simply took another bite of her sundae, savoring the ice cream for a moment before speaking. "Then you find out what's in those boxes?"
"Exactly," Robin said, her tone filled with excitement, like this was the final piece of a puzzle they were close to solving.
"Mmhmm," Erica responded, licking the spoon slowly. "And you say this guard is armed?"
"Yes, but he won't be there," Dustin interjected quickly, his voice carrying a confidence Dove wished she shared.
Erica didn't miss a beat. "And booby traps?" she asked casually. "Lasers, spikes in the wall?"
At that, Dove let out a laugh, as did Robin and Dustin. The absurdity of it lightened the tension, if only for a moment. But Erica? She didn't even flinch. Her arms crossed firmly on the table, her expression as serious as ever.
"You know what this half-baked plan of yours sounds like to me?" Erica said, her voice flat, but with a sharp edge. "Child endangerment."
Robin leaned forward, still trying to stay on top of things. "We'll be in radio contact with you the whole time—"
"Ah, ah, ah!" Erica cut her off, waving a finger dramatically in Robin's face. "Child endangerment." She repeated, putting extra emphasis on each word like a lawyer driving home a point in court.
Dove exchanged a look with Robin, eyebrows raised, before glancing over at Dustin, who was starting to squirm. Erica had them by the throat and she knew it.
Dustin leaned forward, trying to salvage things. "Erica, we think these Russians want to do harm to our country. Great harm. Don't you love your country?"
Erica didn't miss a beat. "You can't spell 'America' without 'Erica'." She stated it with such casual authority that it almost made Dove laugh out loud. This girl was something else.
Dustin blinked, clearly thrown off by her response. "Uh, yeah.." he stammered. "Oddly that's totally true." He paused, his eyes flicking nervously between Erica and the rest of the group. The tension stretched as the sound of Erica loudly slurping her root beer float filled the silence. Dove fought the urge to smile at how exasperated her brother was getting.
Dustin tried again, leaning forward with newfound conviction. "So, don't do this for us. Do it for your country. Do it for your fellow man. Do this for America.. Erica."
Erica finally set down the empty cup, her lips twitching into a teasing smirk. "Ooh," she said, exaggerating a shiver for effect. "I just got the chills. From the float, not you." She added that last part with a smirk aimed at Dustin, whose hopeful grin instantly dropped. Dove barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes.
"Know what I love most about this country?" Erica asked, glancing around the table like a seasoned negotiator. "Capitalism. Do you know what capitalism is?" she asked, her gaze shifting from Robin to Dustin and then landing on Dove.
Dove nodded along with the others, half-expecting whatever was coming next. But still, she braced herself, feeling the twist of tension as she watched Erica work the room.
"It means this is a free market system. Which means people get paid for their services, depending on how valuable their contributions are." Erica's eyes gleamed as she continued, her voice now smooth, like she had all the time in the world. "And it seems to me, my ability to fit into that little vent is very, very valuable to you all."
Dove found herself biting back a smile. This girl had guts—more than most adults she knew, and definitely more than Dove had at that age.
"So," Erica continued, "you want my help? This USS Butterscotch," she pointed to the half-eaten sundae in front of her, "better be the first of many. And I'm talking free ice cream for life." With that, Erica plucked the cherry off the sundae with an almost theatrical flair, biting into it with a satisfied smile as if to seal the deal.
Steve plopped the banana split back onto the table, the dish landing with a dull thud. He stood there for a second, arms crossed, staring at Erica like she might have something else to say—another demand, perhaps. Erica, however, just picked up her spoon, inspecting the dessert with a critical eye.
"This better have extra fudge," she muttered, digging into the layers of ice cream and bananas.
Dove watched the exchange with an amused shake of her head, her eyes flicking between Steve, who looked exasperated, and Erica, who was completely unfazed. The room was filled with the sound of Erica's spoon scraping against the bowl, the tension now cut by the absurdity of the situation.
Steve let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Anything else? Or is Her Highness satisfied?"
Erica barely glanced up, her mouth full of ice cream. "For now," she said, giving a small wave of her hand as if dismissing him.
Dove smirked at the interaction, her gaze drifting over to Steve, who had his hands on his hips, clearly trying to figure out how a 10-year-old had him wrapped around her finger.
Dove glanced up, her eyes caught a glimpse of the clock on the wall. Her heart sank. She had here much longer than she realized. Panic set in as the reality hit her: she needed to get back to the office before she raised any more suspicion. Dove quickly slid out of the booth and stood up.
"Where are you going?" Steve asked, looking up from where he had been fiddling with one of the empty ice cream containers.
"Work," Dove replied, grabbing her bag from the table. "I've been gone way too long."
Dustin, mid-bite of his ice cream cone, furrowed his brow. "But we still have to figure out our next steps. We need you."
Dove gave him an apologetic smile, though her mind was already racing ahead. "I know, but if I don't get back soon, my boss is going to start asking questions. I'll catch up later."
Before anyone could respond, she was already rushing out of the parlor, the jingle of the bell above the door echoing behind her.
The mall's bright lights seemed harsher now as Dove hurried through the food court, weaving through shoppers with quick, purposeful strides. Her mind raced, not just about the fact that she had been missing for so long, but about what was waiting for her back at the law firm. She had to find answers, and she knew there was only one place left to search.
As she reached the door to the law firm, she paused for a moment, smoothing down her clothes and collecting herself. The sterile scent of paper and polished desks greeted her as she stepped back into the office, the faint hum of the copier in the background. Her boss was in his office, and Danny was across the room, leaning over some paperwork. He gave her a brief glance but didn't say anything as she made her way to her desk.
The rest of the afternoon dragged on, her boss in and out of meetings, while she filed mundane paperwork that couldn't hold her attention.
It was nearly 5 p.m. when she heard the familiar rustle of her boss packing up to leave. He walked past her desk, throwing a casual goodbye over his shoulder, but Dove barely registered it. Her heart raced as the door to the office closed behind him. She was alone now.
Well, almost.
She glanced across the room at Danny, who was still working on something. She hesitated, wondering if Danny would stop her, but Dove knew that she only had this one chance. The office was quiet, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the floor. She stood up, her breath shaky as she approached her boss's office door. Her hand hovered over the knob, giving it a slight twist. Locked.
Of course, it's locked, she thought, feeling her nerves heighten. Just as she turned away, she heard soft footsteps behind her.
"What are you doing?"
Dove jumped, spinning around to see Danny standing behind her, his brow furrowed with concern. He looked from the door to her, suspicion crossing his face.
"There has to be something in there." she whispered, glancing nervously around the office. "Something we missed."
Danny shook his head. "Dove, you need to stop. Seriously. You don't know what kind of people you're messing with."
"I can't stop," Dove said, her voice firm but pleading. "Something's going on here, Danny. I need to know."
Danny let out a long sigh, the conflict clear on his face. He stared at her for a long moment, then, as if making a final decision, he rolled his sleeves up further, revealing strong forearms. "Fine," he muttered, stepping toward her. "But if we get caught, this was your idea."
Before Dove could ask what he meant, Danny reached up, plucking a bobby pin from her hair. He bent it quickly between his fingers, his eyes sharp with concentration.
"What are you doing?" Dove asked, staring at him in bewilderment as he knelt in front of the lock.
Danny glanced up at her, his smirk barely noticeable. "Picking the lock. Obviously."
Dove blinked, completely stunned. "Where did you learn to do that?"
He shrugged, brushing off the question as he focused on the task at hand. "Let's just say I've had a few hobbies."
"Clearly," Dove muttered, still watching him in amazement as he worked.
After a few tense seconds, there was a soft click, and the door swung open. Danny stood up, brushing off his hands and avoiding her gaze as if this was no big deal.
"Go on," he said quietly. "But make it fast."
Dove stepped inside, her heart pounding in her chest as she looked around the office. The blinds were half-closed, casting a dim light over the room. Her boss's desk was neatly organized, files and paperwork scattered in deliberate piles. This was it. This was her chance to find what she needed.
She moved quickly, rifling through the drawers and scanning through the papers on the desk. Danny stood watch by the door, his eyes darting toward the hallway, making sure no one was coming.
"What exactly are you looking for?" Danny whispered.
"Anything on Grigori, or the Russians... or Starcourt." Dove's hands shook as she searched. "There has to be something."
Dove's fingers trembled as she reached into the bottom drawer of her boss's desk. She tugged at the handle, but it didn't budge.
Dove let out a quiet huff of frustration. She crouched down, trying to see if there was any way to jimmy it open. She glanced around the room, her eyes landing on the desk's nameplate, gleaming under the dim light. It was solid brass, neatly engraved with 'Tony Abernathy' in bold letters.
Dove picked it up, turning it over in her hands. Desperate, she slid the edge of the nameplate under the drawer's lock, carefully applying pressure as she tried to pry it open. Her fingers trembled slightly as the metal groaned under the strain, the lock resisting at first. But with one more push, there was a sharp click, and the drawer creaked open.
Dove breathed a sigh of relief, quickly placing the nameplate back on the desk before turning her attention to the now-unlocked drawer. She rifled through folders and papers, searching for anything that might connect Mayor Kline or Grigori to Starcourt. Her hand stopped when she found a small, unmarked binder, tucked away at the very back. Her heart raced as she pulled it out, flipping it open.
The binder was filled with images and documents she didn't fully understand at first—sketches of strange organic structures, grainy photographs of dark, sprawling landscapes that looked otherworldly. And then, there were the reports. Pages and pages of text, all marked with official stamps from what appeared to be government agencies, detailing phenomena that sounded eerily familiar to what she had learned from Steve and Dustin about the Upside Down.
Her heart pounded as she scanned the pages, her hands shaking. This was it—proof that her boss, and perhaps even the law firm itself, had knowledge of the Upside Down. But why? And what was the connection to Starcourt?
Dove's mind reeled. Somehow, everything was tied together. Her head swam as the implications settled in.
"Dove," Danny's voice snapped her back to reality, his figure shadowed in the doorway. "What did you find?"
Dove snapped the binder shut, her hands shaking. She couldn't tell him. There was no way she could drag Danny and deeper into this nightmare than he already was. The more he knew, the more danger he'd be in.
"Nothing," she lied, forcing her voice to stay calm as she shoved the binder back into the drawer. "Just some old files."
Danny didn't look convinced. His eyes lingered on her, watching her closely as she hastily shut the drawer. "You sure?" he asked quietly.
Dove nodded, forcing a smile as she looked up at him. "Yeah, I'm sure. It's just.. paperwork. Not what we're looking for."
Danny studied her for a moment longer, as if weighing her words, but then he nodded slowly. "Alright," he said, though there was an edge of doubt in his tone. He pushed his hands into his pockets, stepping back from the door. "Let's get out of here."
Dove released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. She slung her bag over her shoulder, avoiding Danny's gaze as they slipped out of the office. Her heart was still pounding, but she managed to keep her composure as they walked back toward the door.
As they stepped into the hall, Dove's mind was racing. She had to figure out what to do next—how to warn the others. But first, she had to get out of here without letting Danny in on just how much danger they were all in.
Danny glanced at her one last time as they walked toward the exit. "You're sure you're okay?" he asked, his voice softer now.
Dove nodded quickly, not trusting herself to say more.
She could tell by the look in Danny's eyes that he didn't believe her. Without saying a word, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small pad of paper and a pen. His brow furrowed in concentration as he scribbled something down. After a moment, he ripped the page free and held it out to her, his phone number neatly written in bold letters.
"In case you need me," he said softly, gently curling her fingers around the slip of paper.
She hesitated for a second, then nodded, slipping the note into her pocket. "Thanks," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.