by R. J. Ross
A scratching sound from the north... glass again, he thinks as his ears twitch, someone cutting glass to break into a building. Really, if she IS Falconess's daughter he might offer to teach her better methods of breaking and entering, he decides as he shifts back and pulls on the annoying cowl. "I've found someone," he says, "to the north about three miles."
"Straight?"
"Straight." He glances up as she flies overhead, and then starts chasing her, jumping from roof to roof with ease. He's actually a bit proud to note that no alarms go off this time. He pulls to a stop on the building next to the robbery. He doesn't even glance up as Falconess lands on the roof next to him, he just watches the black clad super below, noting things he hadn't thought about before. Tall for a thirteen year old, short for an adult, slight build with the promise of strength--honestly, having a daughter only a bit older than she is should have clued him in.
"She is so grounded that it's not even funny," Falconess mutters, stepping forward. Automatically his hand goes out, pulling her to a stop. "What?" she whispers.
"Think of this from her point of view," he whispers, still watching the girl. "She's doing this for a reason, right? It could be attention from her crush or you, it could be to prove herself, but having her big, powerful mother land in front of her and ground her like a child is hardly going to help your situation."
"Then what do you suggest?" she asks.
"Let me school her," he says. "She'll feel she's being treated seriously--or as seriously as she deserves in her own right, not as your daughter. I'll do this in exchange for one thing."
"What?" she asks.
"Send her to Cape High--Nico will wear her out so much that she will not have the energy to do this. And if she chooses to be on our side when she graduates, she will know how to play the game."
"I'd rather she didn't," she admits. "But fine, agreed."
"Now you disappear before she notices you," he says before jumping off the roof and landing silently behind the would-be super villain. "I'm proud of you," he says, once again toning down his accent. "You got around the security system much better this time." For someone barely started with her training, she is bright and quick to catch on.
She whirls around, this time holding a simple blade. It's not energy, he notices. She just brought a dagger with her. For a moment that makes him scowl--not for the reasons most would think, though. Using a dagger against anyone when you haven't been trained is dangerous--not as much to them as to yourself.
"You! Why is it always you?" she demands. "Are you out to be my nemesis?"
It almost makes him laugh, comparing this little girl to his old nemesis, Banshee. A little grin does pull at his lips, but he doesn't outright laugh. "I think you need more training before I would contemplate that," he says.
She growls and rushes forward, her dagger held wrong, and far too tightly, in her fist. He barely has to move to dodge it. He grabs her wrist as she starts passing him and twists her arm behind her back. "Now, then," he says. "I should take you in for breaking and entering--"
"NEVER," she snarls, twisting hard in his grasp to get free. She's tiny, he thinks, still holding her with little effort. It somehow reminds him of Adanna's cub form. The promise of power is there, but it's not useful.
"I didn't realize you were this young last time," he apologizes right next to her ear. She goes perfectly still and her eyes widen behind the bandanna she's made into a mask. "What you're going to do now is go limp for a moment. I'll act as if you've been subdued, then you twist and lash out with your foot at my legs, understand?" He slips one of his smoke bombs into her hand. "Then you will throw this to the ground hard and run at top speed away from here, understand?"
"I just robbed--" she starts out almost silently.
"No, you just attempted to rob," he corrects her. "You need training."
"But--"
"Now, twist," he says in an urgent whisper. Automatically she twists, lashing out at his legs. He lets go and takes a quick breath before she throws the smoke bomb to the ground and races away. He steps out of the smoke and looks around in an appropriate manner before starting off-- in the opposite direction of the way she ran.
"I still don't believe I should let her get away with this," Falconess says over the communicator. "I'm going to head home and catch her sneaking into the house. I can punish her for that, at least."
"But you'll keep your half of the agreement," Panther says.
"You know I will," she says, already half across town. "As if I could send her anywhere else," she adds.
He stands there for a moment, wondering if he should just call it a night. After a moment of debate--spend the night out on the streets, alone, pretending to be a super hero, or spend the night with his beautiful wife and children...
Well, it's pretty obvious what wins.
Black Cat and the Lightning Bolt
*The Next Week*
One thing about being a fake super hero, Pan thinks as he sips coffee in the Central Hall cafeteria is that they get long weekends. He’d enjoyed his, which makes it even harder to come back to this ridiculous job. Of course, his villainy work is often ridiculous, as well, but he doesn’t have to do patrols on top of everything else! He merely has to call in and tell them that he’s going to be at this place at this time and everything else is handled. Truthfully, villains have it much better than super heroes—
“You’re with me, today, Pan!” Liz calls from the door. He glances over, a little smile pulling at his lips as he sees her, which quickly changes to a frown.
“Shouldn’t you be wearing your work uniform?” he asks as he stands and walks over to her. She’s wearing the gaudiest version of her uniform that he’s ever seen. It’s literally glowing.
“Not for today!” she says. “Today we’re doing one of my biggest, most stupendous jobs ever.”
“Directing planes in a storm?” he offers. “You do recall that I cannot fly, correct?”
“No, we’re going to the premier release of the Firefly video game!” she says, grinning from ear to ear. “I had Nico set up the basics for the game before I sold it to a game company. I’m going to be on ALL of the game systems, ALL of them. And you, my friend, are going to get to witness history in the making.”
“I’m… surprised you’re not dragging Nico to this, instead,” he says.
“I would, but he doesn’t want to wear a uniform,” she explains. “But anyway, the debut is at the gamer convention downtown. I have to go for all three days, but they said I only get you for one, so I’ll be dragging Falconess along, tomorrow. Falconess doesn’t even PLAY games,” she says.
“You could ask Taurus, instead?” he offers mildly.
“Does he play games?” she asks.
“Do I?” Pan replies.
“You can’t tell me that you were my brother’s college roommate and never played video games,” she says. “Cowl up, we’re going through the public part of the building,” she adds idly, putting her own mask on as they walk down the hall. “I’ll get you a copy of the game for Adanna. It’s a little too old for Cubby, but maybe by the third or fourth one, he can play!”
“I’m sure he will enjoy it,” Pan says, giving up on this argument. He’d much rather hang out with Liz at a video game debut than follow Mega around, even if it does promise to be a similar experience.
“Best thing? I get to play all of the other games and get paid for it,” she says. “I’ve got a list of booths here that are willing to pay for me to show up and play for just ten minutes. There’s a schedule,” she says, pulling out her phone and showing him the schedule. “I’m bringing you along mainly for the Dance Dance Revolution.”
“Dance… what?” he asks.
“DDR,” she says, “it’s a game where you have to step on the panels that correlate to the lights on the screen. There’s music, too, so you’re supposedly dancing. If we’re going to give a show, we’re going to give a GOOD show. It’s actually a pretty old game, but it’s so popul
ar that they always set up a booth.”
“So we’re heading downtown? Are we running?”
“Nope, we’re taking the Black Cat Mobile,” she says, walking past the Hall visitors and onto the parking lot. There, looking far too cartoonish for his taste, sits a fancy black Lamborghini Diablo with the same curly cues on the hood and sides as his uniform.
“You’re kidding me,” Pan says.
“We got it for cheap because the last owner wrecked it. Nico rebuilt it,” she says cheerfully. “We’re going to redo the paint later and sell it, but for now, your ride, sir.”
“Which means I’ll be driving you, hmm?”
“Well, a car for a flying cape isn’t part of the budget,” she explains, hopping into the passenger seat. “And I can’t go driving around in a lambo for my daily living. I’ve got two daughters to set an example for.”
He lets out a little laugh and gets into the driver’s seat, admiring the car for a second before starting it up. “It is a beautiful piece of art—and you say Nico rebuilt it? Can you tell me just how he changed it from the original design?”
“He made it eco-friendly, like the rest of the cars we’ve got,” she explains.
“Ah, yes, that does sound like something he would do,” Pan agrees as he automatically follows the lit route on the counter. “Do we have a specific parking spot?”
“We’re going to park right in front of the building and turn the special lights on,” Liz says, grinning.
“So ostentatious,” he says. “I approve.”
“I thought you might,” she says. “We should have a black suit waiting to park for us, so it’s not like we’ll be there for long. Just long enough to please the crowd.” She points to the spot waiting for them and they pull to a stop.
Liz hops out, jumping into the air. “HELLO GAMER CON!” she yells to the people waiting to get into the convention hall. “WE’RE HERE TO PARTY!”
The roar that gets in reply actually has Pan thankful for the cowl he’s wearing that covers his ears. Usually for this sort of headgear, they add some speakers, but he doesn’t need them. He gets out of the car, drawing several looks from the audience. “Hey, he looks familiar!” someone says. “Doesn’t he remind you of Panther?”
“Are you tryin’ to say all African American men look the same?” someone else demands. “That is SO—“
“I’m not saying that! I’ve just got a poster of Panther on my wall, I see his jaw on a daily basis—“ the speaker gives up as everyone starts glaring at him. “Fine, forget I said anything.” Pan silently thanks Nico for the voice modulator that he added to the uniform. It’s extremely hard to remember to change an accent that you’ve had all your life.
“Everyone, this is Black Cat,” Liz says, cheerfully. “He’s working as a temporary assistant for the Central Hall, so be nice to him, okay? Now some of you might have already heard, but I’m here for the most amazing, most stupendous, most AWESOME news ever! How many of you have preordered the Firefly Game, huh?”
The crowd roars again, forgetting about Pan that easily.
“I know for a fact that you’re gonna LOVE IT!” Liz says. “But not only will we be unveiling my own, personal game today, I’ll be hanging out all weekend, visiting all of the booths! You might even get the chance to go up against me in a game!”
“Firefly, Black Cat, it’s a real honor to meet you,” a man says from behind Pan. Pan turns and looks at the black suit for a second before he hands him the keys and steps away from the car. The black suit looks at the keys with a strange expression before he gets in the car and drives off. Liz and Pan head into the convention.
“Okay, first I need to go… this way,” Liz says as the crowd throngs towards her, waving pieces of paper for her to sign. In seconds, Pan is separated from her. He looks around, seeing wary gazes where Liz had gotten cheers. A little boy only a few years older than his son stares at him for a moment before saying, “Who’re you?”
“Black Cat,” Pan says.
“What powers do you got?”
“I’m… good at jumping,” he says, wondering, for the first time, what powers he’s SUPPOSED to have in this form.
“So?”
“I’m REALLY good at jumping,” Pan says, and then jumps, grabbing onto the catwalk far above them and pulling himself onto it. It’s better than being asked questions that he hasn’t bothered to think out, he decides.
“Oh, cool,” he hears the kid say. Before he can do anything else, though, a beep comes from the earbud built into his cowl.
“Pan, what did you do with the car?” Nico asks.
“I gave the keys to the black suit, like your sister told me to,” Pan says, going still as he foresees the shoe about to be dropped.
“No, if you’d done that, the black suit that was sent to get the car would have the car right now. She doesn’t have the car. So…”
“She?” Pan repeats.
“One of the Hall’s best drivers,” Nico says. “Trust me, I made them take a test before deciding who would drive my car. So who DID you give the car to?”
“A black suit that showed up while your sister was posturing. So… I take this to mean I’ve just been robbed?”
“Brilliantly,” Nico says with a sigh. “Are you busy right now? Or do you want me to go clean it up for you?”
Pan looks down at the masses of people, and winces at the noise that’s coming through the protective cowl. “I can spare a few minutes,” he says. “I firmly believe in cleaning up my own mistakes. Do you have some form of tracking for the car?”
“Are you forgetting who I am? I’ll send the coordinates to your phone.”
***
“I can’t believe I did it,” the man says, freaking out. “I mean, it was there, I was there, I was cosplaying a black suit, and he just handed me the keys—“
“I can’t believe you’re such an idiot!” his brother says, still staring at the car parked in front of his house. “Not only did you steal from the HALL, you brought the evidence straight to MY HOUSE! Don’t you know what the newest Hall member is? He’s a TECHNOPATH! He’s going to show up any moment now, and we’ll all be tossed into prison—“
“No, no, I’m going to take it back,” the thief says, speaking quickly, “I’m going to take it back in a—in a few minutes, after I show it to Sharon. She’s going to regret dumping me once she thinks I’m a black suit—“
“FORGET SHARON!” his brother bellows, grabbing him by the lapels. “Take the car back NOW. Maybe they’ll let you off with a couple of years in prison—“
“Or maybe we’ll take care of it, ourselves,” a voice says from the roof of the house. The brothers turn, looking up slowly at the black clad super sitting there. “The one that’s getting blamed for this little escapade is me,” Black Cat says, dropping to the ground lightly. “Although you’re wearing the suit, I’ve been informed that I should have asked for your identification, as well.”
“Are you—are you going to arrest me? I was going to bring it back, I swear!” the thief says. “It was just—it was there, and I was there, and—wow, you’re a lot bigger than I remember,” he finishes, staring up at Pan as Pan gets closer. “Are you going to hurt me?”
“Keys,” Pan says, holding out his hand. The keys drop onto his palm. “Now get in the car,” he orders as he heads for the driver’s side.
“But—“ the thief looks over at his brother, who’s recording this entire thing on his phone.
“Get in the car,” Pan repeats. The thief gets in the car. He looks far too excited for someone just caught by the Hall, Pan thinks as he glances over.
“I’m sort of surprised that they didn’t make it fingerprint activated, or maybe eye-scan,” the thief says, looking around the car. “I mean, really, keys? It’s a bit out-dated, don’t you think? What year is this? I mean, I know it’s a Lamborghini, so I haven’t really ever driven one before, not that I wouldn’t—well, I DID, really—“
“Please stop speaking,” Pa
n says, shifting the car into drive and taking off. He only has a few minutes before Liz will notice that he’s gone. If he disappears too much from the job, she might complain. Not that he thinks she will, but he has no desire to give her the opportunity. The last thing he wants is to be stuck doing another three months of this.
“So… what’s your back story?” the thief asks. “Oh, I should introduce myself. I’m Allen, I’m a computer tech advisor. I really did mean to bring it back, I just wanted to show it to a few people—“
“Allen,” Pan says, irritably, “please stop speaking.”
Allen goes silent, looking around again as they pull to a stop in front of the convention hall again. This time there’s a woman waiting there in a suit, her black suit ID in her hand. He parks, gets out of the car, and looks at the ID. “This is what you’re supposed to ask to see, sir,” she says with a little twitch of her lips.
“I see,” Pan says. “You’ll understand why I did not realize this.”
“Yes, sir, and I’m a huge fan, by the way,” she says as he leans down, opens the passenger door and drags Allen out of the car.
“Put him to work cleaning or something,” Pan says.
“Sir, he stole a Hall car—“
“He didn’t steal it, I gave him the keys. Besides, all he wanted to do was show his brother and his ex, and then bring back,” Pan sums up dryly. “You WERE planning on bringing it back, weren’t you?”
“I swear on my mother’s—well, she’s not dead, so, um… I swear,” Allen finishes lamely.
“Hey, Pa—Black Cat,” Liz says over his earbud. “Where are you? I’ve got the DDR booth in five minutes.”
“I’m on my way,” he says. “I need to go, you can handle this, right?” he asks the black suit.
“Yeah, I can handle this guy,” she says. “Get back in the car, you’re going with me to park it, and then I’ll call Mastermental and see what he wants to do with you.”