Caffeine and Magix

Nice, get some everclear in the mix! Thanks for the prompt :) 

“Look,” I say, “it’s not you, it’s me. I think I’m just heading in a different direction right now. I can’t let our relationship hold me back anymore.”

Light, fastest man on Earth, superhero extraordinaire, stops struggling against his bonds to stare at me. “Did you kidnap me to…break up with me?”

My heart skips a beat. “No! I mean, we’re not even, like, dating so I’m not. Obviously.” I adjust my rubber gloves nervously, tucking my lab coat more securely into them. “Just, um, letting you know that you don’t need to save the day anymore. From me at least.” I laugh and stop abruptly, face flushing. My laugh is off putting, so I hear.

Light speed kicks the chair I’ve tied him to and grimaces when it doesn’t break.

“It’s titanium,” I say, shoving my hands into my coat’s pockets. “I’ll let you go, just wanted to tell you goodbye, I guess. We, uh, probably won’t be seeing each other again.”

“Are you dying?” he asks, strangely alarmed. He lowers his voice. “Or is someone threatening you?” His eyes narrow. “Is it Technomaniac? Because he’s from Texas, this isn’t even his turf, I can contact the heroes down there to come get him–”

“I’m not being threatened,” I blurt out. He’d kick another villain out of LA for me? Why? “I just, it’s time for me to move on, that’s all. I, well…”

“You are dying,” Light says, face horrified. “Oh my god, and I threw you through that window last week!”

“I’m not dying!” I throw my hands up in the air. “I’m quitting being a villain!”

The words ring in the empty lab. All of my equipment has already been disposed of, the experiments, everything. I’m ready for a new start, totally and completely.

“You’re…quitting.” Light seems unable to comprehend it. “Like, quitting quitting? Or taking a break? Or maybe you mean rebranding, I hear that’s popular these days–”

“Quitting quitting,” I say, cutting off his rambling. I avoid his eyes. “I’m not so good at being a villain so I’m quitting.”

His mouth drops open. “Just like that. But… you love being a villain.”

No, I think, I love you. I clear my throat. “That’s all I had to say. The binds will unlock in about fifteen minutes, okay? So, um, bye.”

“Madame Science!” His voice echoes behind me, strangely desperate. I don’t stop, taking the emergency escape pole I installed months ago.

He didn’t know it, but he’d be seeing me soon enough.

————————————

“This is Christine Green,” Principal Fuller announces at the staff meeting. “She’ll be replacing Ms. Karson.” His lips purse. “I trust that she’ll do an exemplary job representing our school, unlike her predecessor.”

“I’ll sure try,” I say, pushing my glasses up my nose. I’d been the one to blow the whistle on dear old Ms. Karson. Really, didn’t she know better than to teach and work a camera at the same time? “I’ll be working with her lesson plans for the time being, I hope that’s alright.”

“Perfectly fine,” Principal Fuller says. “If you have any questions, feel free to ask Scott over there, Scott Mitchell. He’s also an english teacher.”

At the other end of the table, a blond man is staring moodily at the wall. At the sound of his name, he starts and turns, showing that there are dark bags under his eyes. “What? Oh…yes, I’d be happy to help.”

I beam all through the rest of the meeting. It had cost me a pretty penny to find out Light’s civilian identity  and it had taken a long couple of months to get my teaching certificate. Luckily, my doctorates helped grease the way, even if they couldn’t understand why someone like me wanted to teach high school.

But it was worth it. I’d finally be able to get close to Light– I mean Scott– and put my best foot forward. 

Now all I had to do was make him fall in love with me.

————————————–

“Ms. Green,” Principal Fuller says a month later, eyes obviously averted. “That’s not school appropriate attire.”

I look down at my shirt. Admittedly, this cleavage is overkill, but it’s what I call a last ditch effort. I’m not particularly well-endowed, but a girl can work what she’s got int he name of love.

Though I’m beginning to lose hope in that regard.

“What about my outfit?” I ask innocently, leaning forward ever so slightly. The button over my chest stretches and more of my camisole is revealed. I’m not particularly body conscious, which pays off for me here. “Is there something wrong?”

“I–uh,” Principal Fuller says. He visibly pulls himself together. “Necklines need to be at the neck, Ms. Green. I trust you take my meaning.”

“Oh,” I say, pressing one hand to my chest. “Of course!” It hadn’t worked anyway.

I watch the principal walk away and let my smile twist. I’d been working here a month and nothing. Nada. Scott wasn’t anymore in love with me than he’d been when I was a villain.

Moreover, had he always been so depressing? Like 24/7 angst fest, a wall of impenetrable misery. I blame that wall on my failure to get Scott to even go on a coffee date with me, even after asking three times.

That’s right, folks. Three times. And he hadn’t so much as considered it.

“Fuck,” I say and head off to my classroom. First period is starting soon and, as much as I hate to admit, I actually like teaching. I’m better at it than I was at being a villain at least, and, although Scott isn’t in love with me, at least he no longer has a moral obligation to stop me.

I have a sinking feeling that “no longer morally obligated to stop me” isn’t a great foundation for a relationship.

——————————————————

“Do not panic,” an electronic voice broadcasts over the PA system two hours later, “you will not be harmed. I am merely taking this school hostage. Do not be alarmed.”

This, of course, causes everyone to panic and be alarmed. The situation is not helped by the large, robotic guards that throw open my classroom door.

You have got to be kidding me. A school? Filled with children? That was the worst place to hit, the government flew in S-List heroes for shit like this!

“Technomaniac,” I growl under my breath. It had to be. Only an idiot would hit a school, a suicidal one.

I make my way to the door, squaring my shoulders as I face off against the robot. It actually blinks at me, meaning that Technomaniac was the type of villain to waste time on eyelids for a robot. Why? Because he’s an idiot.

“Go to the gym,” the robot says, a prerecorded voice. “Or there will be consequences.” 

“Okay,” I say. There’s not much I can do with thirty teenagers staring at me. I turn to my class. “Go, guys, I’ll be right behind you.”

Tentatively, my students stand, eyeing the robot nervously. When they move too slowly for the robot’s tastes, it reaches out with a claw-like appendage. “Move faster.”

I smack the joint hard, not doing much damage, but enough that the robot feels it. I glare at it. “Touch my kids and I will destroy you.”

Some of my students gasp, drawing back at the sound of flesh hitting metal. They’re scared and that makes me angrier. I curl my hands into fists.

The robot, for lack of a better word, bristles. “Move faster,” it says, processors dropping its voice a full octave. “Or else.”

“Go, guys,” I repeat to my students, still glaring at the robot. “I’ll pick up the rear.”

This time they go, casting wide, fearful looks over their shoulders at me. Before I leave the classroom, I go to my desk, feed my data into the bio-metric lock on the bottom drawer, and pull out a neatly folded lab coat. It’s not one of my battle costumes, but it’ll do.

I jog to catch up to my students, patting them on the backs reassuringly as we pass the other empty classrooms. It looks like all of the classes have been, essentially, kidnapped to the gym, including Scott’s.

I frown. That’s right. Scott, aka Light, one of the better heroes in the city. Did he run to get help? Somehow I doubted it.

I shoulder my way to the front of my class just as the robot stops. It pushes open the doors to the gym and blinks its dumb eyes at me.

“Inside,” it says and clicks it’s claws. “Students to the right, teachers to the stage.”

Dividing the protectors from the protectees, I think and frown. That’s nearly too intelligent from someone who put eyelids on a robot.

The inside of the gym is already packed, students huddled into groups on the basketball court. Smaller guards, these ones probably around five feet, patrol through them, making the kids dodge their metal feet.

On stage, at the podium, is Technomaniac in his black, rag costume and steampunk goggles. He’s monologuing to the teacher’s already, arms gesticulating wildly. Beside him is a cloaked villain, one I don’t recognize.

His captive audience, the teachers and faculty, look rather the worse for wear. A number of them have split lips, another handful have torn clothing, and all of them look both scared and furious. My eyes fall on a familiar tuft of brown hair and I feel my blood run cold.

Scott is lying on the stage, an obvious smear of red on his forehead, not moving.

The robot guard that escorted us whirs and pushes me, frustrated by my stillness. “Inside.” It reaches towards me with one of its claws.

I want to break it, rend it to pieces, for Scott, but that won’t help right now. Chin up, I stalk past the students to the stage. As I get closer, Technomaniac starts to become audible.

“–age of revolution!” he’s saying. “Too long the advances of technology we so desperately need have been squelched by the government, by the unimaginative. They don’t see the necessity in what I create, what I can offer the world. That is why I must show them with force.”

The cloaked figure, barely sparing me a glance as I walk onto stage, rolls his eyes where Technomaniac can’t see. Now that I’m closer, I can make out a thin frame, rings on his fingers, and dark eyes.

It’s with a chill that I realize I do know who this villain is and that I was right to think this plan was too intelligent for Technomaniac.

Synthesis is leagues above Technomaniac.

But why was he here? In villain circles, he was something of a mastermind, trusted as a go-between in team up negotiations. His own villainy tended to be large scare; thefts from military bases, hero hunting, abducting public officials.

Could he be after Light? Or was there someone else at this school that I didn’t know about? I couldn’t rule out any of the kids, not with how young they start these days.

I sit myself as close to Scott as possible, eyes running over the blood on his forehead. To my relief, I see a small cut at his temple and no serious swelling. He’d probably gotten hit and passed out, though not for long. Scott’s super speed also allowed him super healing.

“Is that everyone?” Technimaniac asks the guard robot who’d brought me to the stage. The robot blinks once. “Perfect! Seal the exits! No one comes in or out.”

The robots move to obey him, standing shoulder to shoulder around the perimeter of the room. Their arms linked together and metal plating slid, creating a solid barrier between the kids and freedom. I doubted it’d hold up to an assault from, say, Strongwoman, but Strongwoman’s in DC and unlikely to make it.

Which means it’s up to me.

On the floor, Scott groans as he wakes up. When he opens his eyes, I shush him, eyes fixes on Synthesis.

“Now,” Synthesis says, speaking for the first time. His voice is low,much lower than you’d expect from someone with his frame. “There is no need for anyone to get hurt. Not if you cooperate.”

Principal Fuller, clearly terrified, glares. “We won’t cooperate with the likes of you.”

Synthesis regards him for a long, terrible moment. Then he snaps his fingers and Principal Fuller’s mouth disappears, leaving behind a smooth expanse of flesh.

Principal Fuller’s hands fly up to feel and he screams, the sound muffled since he can’t open his mouth.

“I just need you to be silent, Principal,” Synthesis says coldly. He turns his eyes to the sea of students. “They are the ones I need to speak.”

“Leave them alone,” Scott says like an idiot. His chin lifts when Synthesis glares at him. “They’re just kids. You think you can get away with hurting kids?”

“No,” Synthesis says, “but I can get away with hurting you.” He raises his hand and snaps before I can stop him.

Scott screams as vice-like braces appear around his legs, hip to ankles, the metal digging into his skin.

“You think we don’t know who you are?” Synthesis asks, a cruel smile twisting his lips. “Dear hero, we know exactly who you are. Be good or I’ll do much worse than bind you; I’ll crush you.”

“You’ll pay,” Scott promises, voice deadly. Even locked up and hurting he’s trying to be a hero, which, while hot, is unbelievably stupid. “I’ll make sure of it, Synthesis!”

“Then perhaps it’s better if you end here.” Synthesis raises his hand to snap, rings glinting.

“What do you want to know?” I blurt out before Scott loses his mouth or worse. I know the trick behind Synthesis’ ability, but that doesn’t make it any less real. I try to make myself seem as panicked and sleazy as possible. “I just started working here, I don’t owe these people shit.”

Scott, sweet Scott, gives me such a betrayed look that it takes all my strength to pretend to be unaffected. 

“Glad to know you’re not all heroes,” Technomaniac jeers and then shuts up at a quelling look from Synthesis.

“I am looking for a student,” Synthesis says, loud enough that the students can hear. “A very specific student. You think this student is like you, but you’re wrong. You see, this student is the product of not one, but two superhero parents.” His eyes glint. “The first, it is believed, in the past fifteen years.”

Oh for the love of god. 

“Lt. Foresight’s prophecies,” I say before I can stop myself. “Are you kidding me?”

Any villain worth their salt knows that, while terrifying in battle due to his ability to see the future, Foresight is shit at long term fortune telling. So the one where a kid, product of two heroes, ends up being the world’s greatest villain under the right tutelage? Total bullshit.

“Foresight’s what?” Scott asks, completely blindsided. It’s not a surprise that he’s not familiar with them. Even heroes don’t take prophecies too seriously.

No, only villains do.

“Excuse me?” Synthesis asks, looking down his nose at me. 

Now, I have two choices here. Either I can take back my words, continue pretending to cooperate, and attack when they least expect it. Or, I can get him to attack me on my terms.

But first, I need to reach Synthesis’ limit because like hell I was letting him vanish any part of me.

“It’s just,” I say, eyes falling to the floor. I stand cautiously, still looking down, trying to put fear in my body language. “I’ve heard that prophecy before.” I take a shuddering breath. “And I know who it refers too.”

“Don’t tell them anyth–mmf!” Scott writhes as a gag appears in his mouth, cutting off his words. Technomaniac cackles.

And that made three times he’s used his power. Hopefully my intel isn’t out of date.

I resist the urge to tell them to stop hurting Scott. I let my bottom lip quiver. “The truth is…it’s– it’s–”

“Who?” Synthesis demands impatiently. “Who is it?”

“Me,” I say, pressing a theatrical hand to my chest. I bat my eyes at him, letting the fear drop. “I’m the one you want!”

There’s a moment of awful silence in the gym as everyone takes in my words. A number of things happen very quickly then.

Synthesis says, “Technomaniac.”

Technomaniac takes out one of his famous plasma guns from his ragged costume and points it at me.

Scott screams a muffled protest into his gag, accompanied by the piercing screams and gasps of quite a few students.

Technomaniac pulls the trigger and a beam of bright, green light speeds towards me.

I unfold me lab coat, hold it in front of me, and brace.

When the beam hits my coat, the force is neutralized, producing an explosion of golden sparks. It’s a messy side effect and usually one that Light’s never hesitated to take advantage of.

But I’m not fighting Light.

By the time they blink enough spots out of their eyes to act, I’ve got my coat on and buttoned, front panels folded out completely so that they climb past my collarbone to protect my neck. It’s unfortunate that I’m wearing heels today and not my normal combat boots, but I’ve had enough practice in heels that it shouldn’t make a difference.

It feels good to be back in uniform, to feel the adrenaline racing through my body, so good that I throw back my head and laugh.

Technomaniac actually takes a step back. “Synthesis,” he hisses, “that’s Madame Science!”

The students gasp, which makes me feel oddly flattered. I didn’t know the youngsters know who I am. Some of them scream which is way less flattering considering I’ve been teaching a good lot of them for the last month.

On the ground, Scott is looking at me with wide eyes. He tries to say something into the gag, something that sounds a lot like “Christine?”

I ignore him, keeping my Villain Smile™ on my face. I’d have time to panic about blowing my identity and my shot at love later.

“This school is under my protection, Synthesis,” I say to the shorter villain. My hands slide into my lab coat pocket, fingers running over the remote sewn into the lining. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“Technomaniac said you disappeared,” Synthesis says, ignoring my words. He scowls at Technomaniac. “I see he lied.”

“No,” Technomaniac says quickly. “No, not lied, I–”

“I retired,” I interrupt. My hair is in my face and I wish I could pull it back. “If you don’t leave, I’ll be coming out of retirement.”

“Maybe you should,” Synthesis says, voice oily. “Join us Madame Science. You are a greater mentor than Technomaniac, versed in far more than just robotics. You could help me raise the child, help me raise the ultimate being.”

“What,” I say, “you be the daddy and I’ll be the mommy?” I shake my head. “Gross.”

Synthesis’ expression sours. “Technomaniac, please see Madame Science out.”

“You’d replace me?” Technomaniac asks, voice wounded. “I can do other stuff besides robotics!”

Synthesis whirls on him, eyes blazing, and raises his fingers as if to snap. “See. Her. Out.”

Technomaniac squeaks and points his gun at me. “Guards, seize Madame Science!”

The robots around the room begin to unhook from each other, metal plates sliding back into place. When they’re no longer standing right next to each other so that they doors are accessible, I press the first button on my remote.

A blue blast of energy comes from my pocket, sweeping across a 100 yard diameter, far enough that it reaches every last bit of tech Technomaniac has. The EMP wipes them out, making the robots’ lights go out, and making Technomaniac half-scream.

“My robots!” He turns his weapon on me, his electric weapon and pulls the trigger. Nothing happens. “My gun!”

Still with my hands in my pockets, I look at him balefully. “Your intelligence.”

With a roar of rage, Technomaniac charges at me, blind to anything but revenge. I ease one foot back, ready to kick him in the face, but then freeze as Technomaniac falls right at my feet.

Scott, panting hard around the gag, glares at the fallen villain, legs still extended to where he’d tripped Technomaniac.

“Thanks,” I say dubiously and slam my foot into Technomaniac’s head anyway. An unconscious villain is a de-armed vilalin and a conscious one, no matter how dumb, is a dangerous one.

“That,” Synthesis says, low and deadly, “was a mistake.” He raises his hand, rings glinting. “I suggest you stop whatever it is you’re doing before I make you.”

I step over Technomaniac, my Villain Smile™ more natural now. “Really, you’re going to stop me? Do it, go on, I dare you.”

“I will,” Synthesis hisses. His hand begins to tremble as he forces himself to stand his ground in the face of my advance. “How would you like to live without a heart?”

Scott makes a sound of protest and pales.

I grin wider. “Ooh, baby, stop talking dirty and just do it.” I step over Scott and get right in Synthesis’ face, leaning down so that we’re inches apart. “But we both know you can’t. Three times in an hour, right?”

Synthesis stumbles back and tries to recover. “How did– no, that’s not–”

I roll my eyes. “All villains worth anything know what the great mastermind’s weakness is. And, honey, I still got forty minutes left.” I pull my hands out of my pocket and crack my knuckles. “Isn’t that right?”

Synthesis tries to make a run for it.

He doesn’t make it far.

When he’s unconscious, I pull the rings off his fingers and head back to the stage. The teachers are looking at me fearfully, which is a bitter pill to swallow.

“His power’s centered in these rings,” I say, avoiding Scott’s eyes in particular. It’s a little difficult since he seems to really want me to look at him. “Everything should go back to normal once I crush them.”

I drop them on the floor and grind them under my heel. They’re not gems, they’re glass, and they squeak as I grind them into the floorboards.

Principal Fuller’s mouth reappears and he sucks in huge, aching breaths, rolling onto his side while Ms. Linda, the receptionist, rubs his back. Scott twitches as the gag disappears and the leg braces, sitting up to rub his jaw.

“Madame Science,” he says, looking up at me. His mouth turns down. “Christine.”

“Scott,” I say. “Listen, I–”

“You,” Principal Fuller says, face red with rage, “you are fired.”

Both Scott and I turn to look at him. Scott looks…shocked? I’m resigned.

“Fair enough,” I say and turn on my heel. I taste something sour as the faculty pulls away from me as I walk past. “Later.”

“Christine!” Scott calls after me. I hear him try to get up and fall, the circulation not quite back in his legs. At least I have time to get away before he arrests me.

The students don’t pull away when I walk past, for which I’m grateful. I spot my class, all huddled together, and shoot them a rueful grin. “Turn in your essay to Mr. Mitchell. No extensions.”

And then I sweep out, leaving my job and love behind.

———————————————-

The school, amazingly, doesn’t catch flack for hiring a villain. Instead, they talk about a “heroic effort” from all the teachers to protect the students, which is true enough.

What’s strange is that there’s no mention of me at all. As a villain with good fashion sense, that sort of hurts. Was I really so forgettable? So invisible?

I eat a lot of junk food during the first week.

My apartment as Christine Green is burned. According to the sensors in it, a host of heroes have already been by, touching my things, looking for me. 

Even Scott, jaw clenches and expression grim.

 On the floor of my abandoned lab, the one that I’d thought I’d never step foot in again, I groan. 

It’s not like I made any progress with Scott. As they say, maybe he’s just not that into me? And… that sucks, but it’s fair. I was probably misreading all that sexual tension stuff from before.

I sit up quickly. “Oh my god, it was probably just adrenaline! He didn’t really have an interest in me, it was just this stupid hero-villain thing!”

“Hey,” a male voice says, “Let’s not jump to conclusions here.”

I lunge to my feet, automatically sliding into a defensive position. Scott–no, Light enters the room in full costume, hands up.

“I just came to talk,” he says. He slowly pushes his cowl back, revealing his face. He looks at me beseechingly. “We good?”

I’m abruptly aware of all the takeaway boxes scattered around my lab. “Uh, yeah, I just– hold on.” I scramble around, kicking them into one pile, ignoring the sweet and sour sauce that spills. “Sorry for the mess, I just, uh, you know don’t have any chairs.” I pull myself together and turn to face him. “What can I do for you?”

“You can sign this,” Scott says, pulling a sheaf of papers from his utility belt. He holds it out to me. “Please.”

I draw back, eyeing the papers warily. “Um, sorry, I don’t sign confessions. Tends to lead to jail, hahaha.”

“It’s not a confession,” Scott says and takes a step closer. “It’s a pardon.”

A what? “A what?”

“A pardon,” Scott repeats. He flips a page. “For services rendered, protecting the good of the community, Madame Science will hence–well, you get the point. Lots of legal jargon to say that you’ve got immunity. You sign this and you’re no longer a villain.”

I swallow, mind reeling. “Why? I–I’ve been a villain for years! I’ve stolen like, a billion dollars!” I shake my head. “Dude, I never returned the last mayor!”

“Foresight found him,” Scott says earnestly. “Living in Hawaii. Actually pretty happy with the situation, he won’t be pressing charges.” He offers me the papers. “Please?”

I take a step toward him and then stop. “I–I don’t think I can stop using my abilities. When I put the uniform on again, I–I realized that I miss it. Not the stealing or kidnapping, I miss fighting. I miss inventing.  I tried to stop, for you– and reasons!–, but it wasn’t…fun.”

“You tried to stop for me?” Scott asks, mouth dropping open. He looks like someone slapped him. “Why?”

Well, if he asks there’s no reason not to tell him. Right? Or maybe I’m tired of living with it and not saying it.

“Because I like you!” I throw my hands up in the air. “I’m in love with you and I knew you’d never consider someone like me. A villain. So I–I quit.”

“In love with me?” Scott repeats. He looks concussed and I begin to worry about his health.

“Well, yeah,” I say and run a hand through my hair. “And, look, I get it, you don’t feel the same way–”

“Who said I didn’t feel the same way?” Scott takes another step forward so we’re feet apart.

“You did,” I say, brow furrowing. “I asked you out to coffee three times. Three times.”

“I didn’t know that it was you!” He gives a disbelieving laugh. “I thought it was some new teacher trying to hit on me when all I really wanted was for you to ask me out.”

“But I was a villain!” I try to understand that. “I couldn’t ask you out as a villain! You have a moral obligation to stop me!” His words hit me. “Wait, you wanted me to ask you out? Do… do you like me?”

He levels me with an exasperated look. “Yes, I do. Which you would know if you hadn’t run away.”

I’m too shocked to be offended by the implication. I shake my head. “Wow.”

“Yeah, wow,” he says, a hint of fondness creeping into his voice. “Now, will you please sign these? It doesn’t mean you have to quit being a villain forever, just that you’ll be cleared long enough that we can go on a date.”

“A date,” I say, tasting the word. “I like that.” I finally step forward, accepting the papers and a pen that he pulls out of his utility belt. I sign them with a flourish, heart racing in my chest. 

“Thank you,” he says and grabs my hand. He looks me deeply in the eyes, trying to convey his gratitude. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

I clear my throat and hold his hand back. “I’m holding you to that,” I say, trying to sound flippant. “I can go back to my evil ways at any moment, you know. Just a real risk factor over here.”

“Then I’ll just have to keep dating you,” he says, smiling. A peculiar look crosses his face. “That’ll give us time to really talk about your options.”

I still, not liking the sound of that. “My…options?”

He nods. “You’re right that I can’t date a villain.” His eyes glint wickedly. “So Foresight told me to make you a hero.”

I stare at him, open-mouthed, and he laughs.