Chapter Text
It was safe to say that after the day he'd had at work, Jimmy was exhausted. It wasn't the usual things that tired him either. It wasn't being flocked by reporters fighting to get on the scene, it wasn't having to endure the fight against Mythical and The Lost King. It was the little things.
That morning, he'd woken up to a hairball on his chest, having slept past his alarm and having clothes that he'd worn because he'd forgotten to wash them the night prior. Norman had raced around his feet, causing him to almost trip multiple times. The coffee machine refused to work. His headphones didn't connect to his phone on the tube, so he ended up playing his music on loud volume to everyone and only found out when a tired college student pointed it out to him. He had proceeded to go the brightest shade of red he probably had ever had in his life, profusely apologising and sitting without his music playing for the rest of the journey.
He popped into his regular coffee shop to grab something to drink since his coffee machine didn't work. Unfortunately, the line to order was huge and he spent five minutes in the queue just to get to the front and order a plain black coffee, and receive his order. Which was a caramel latte. He didn't point it out to them, only taking the beverage and sipping on it as he walked. The moment he got the chance, he dumped it in the nearest bin and arrived at work.
The person at the reception didn't recognise him. She spent an entire ten minutes arguing with Jimmy, saying that he "didn't have an appointment" and him having to say that he didn't need an appointment because he worked there. The only reason she let him in was because Katherine saw it happening and intervened.
Apparently the receptionist was new, and her first day was the day Jimmy had taken as his day off. But whatever.
He changed into his typical costume and went on patrol with Lizzie. It was a mostly normal patrol at least, with them preventing general crimes. At some point one of them must have commented on how chill of a patrol it was that day, because it was just their luck that they were suddenly facing off against Mythical and The Lost King.
Dodging the fireballs Mythical shot his way, he felt strong arms grab onto him and pull him into the air. Jimmy squirmed like a worm on a hook, The Lost King making some kind of biting remark he couldn't pay attention to because oh gods he was flying he could die so easily right now oh my gods. He threw his arm back, gripping and digging his nails into The Lost King's arm. At the same time, he turned to the nearest bit of flesh to his mouth and bit down as hard as he could.
The Lost King cried out and lost his grip. Jimmy fell, the wind whipping at his body as the ground grew closer and closer. Slime formed at his fists and he shot clumps of it down at where he would land. When he finally hit the ground, he was bounced back up, his fall cushioned by the slime. It melted, surging back into his fingertips and smoothing out into a sticky fluid.
Jimmy outstretched his arm at Mythical, and a blast of that fluid flew across the distance and hit Mythical square in the face.
The distraction was all Lizzie needed. Water shot out and hit Mythical, his body slamming against a building and falling to the ground. For good measure, Jimmy released more slime to keep him stuck to that wall.
They turned their attention to The Lost King, who was squawking indignantly at what they'd done to Mythical and flying down, reaching out to snag one of them and fling them into the air.
Unfortunately for him, The Lost King never got the chance.
And unluckily for the two of them, the bane of Jimmy's existence emerged.
Maybe it was Smajor's appearance that had driven the shittiness of the day home. Maybe it was just a day of inconvenience and bad luck bubbling up to ultimately give him the worst day of his life.
Or maybe it was Smajor's dumb grin visible under his mask that had him screaming some kind of bizarre war cry and charging forwards like an animal.
He didn't have the patience to deal with Smajor's witty remarks and flirts that day, so he got on with that. Slime coating his fists, he landed a punch on Smajor, the villain springing backwards and skidded across the asphalt. Smajor recovered quickly and ice gathered at his feet.
The ground began to rumble. Jimmy hastily jumped out of the way as an ice spire shot out of the ground, catching the sun's rays and temporarily blinding him. A second and third one emerged from the ground to form a triangle around where he stood.
"Look at that," Smajor said, walking forwards slowly. "I've caught myself a cod."
"You forgot the other fish!" Lizzie called out, a moment before water sprayed Smajor in the face and her trident slammed into his side. Smajor grunted and thin spikes of ice grew out from his fingernails, flying out in a flurry and impaling Lizzie in her hands and feet. Her expression barely flickered, but Jimmy could see the slight twitch of her lip and the mild trembles of her hands.
He stepped out from the spires and doubled down on Lizzie's attack. He surged forward, slime coating his feet to give him an extra boost, and hit Smajor in the abdomen, then another punch slightly below his heart.
Ice poked out from the ground to keep Smajor upright, then the tips of the spires broke off and flung themselves at him. Jimmy ducked to avoid them.
"Slippery little fish, aren't you?" Smajor teased, an ice-covered fist smashing into Jimmy's ribs.
Lizzie came to his rescue and sprayed him again, then used her trident to pin him against a building. Smajor kept grinning, positioning himself between the three prongs to look almost perfectly at ease between them.
"Well," he began, looking at an imaginary watch on his wrist. "I'm due elsewhere right now. Catch you later, cod-boy." He winked, then ice surged up around him to form a dome. When the dome shattered a few seconds later, Lizzie's trident was dented and a blur of blue, white and gold raced up into the air and vanished amidst the sky and the clouds.
Jimmy cursed under his breath.
Lizzie smiled and nudged him playfully in the side. "At least we got Mythical this time, eh?" When he offered no response, she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?"
He waved her off, assuring her he was fine.
They hadn't caught The Lost King. Damn coward, running the second he caught sight of Smajor. Wasn't he Xornoth's right-hand man or something? Probably not anymore, if the demon was watching.
It would've been so easy to catch him if he hadn't flung himself at Smajor the second he saw him. Oh well. Live and learn.
And then, to make things worse, the reporters arrived. Amongst them he noticed the signature mushroom pin in dark hair, accompanied by a short woman rapidly approaching, and he couldn't help but try and walk away as fast as he could.
"Codfather!" Shelby yelled, waving at him. "Can I have a moment to-"
He sped up, not bothering to give her an answer. Behind him he could hear footsteps chasing after him, along with more yells of his alias and questions. The universe really hated him today, huh?
At her fifth cry of his name, he turned around and glared at her. "What is it?" he snapped.
For some reason, she didn’t seemed deterred by his tone. "I wanted to ask you a few questions." Shelby said. "It'll only take a few minutes."
"I'm busy." he told her, starting to turn around.
"Wait!" she exclaimed abruptly. "At least answer two questions for me. Please?"
It would be bad for his PR if he didn't. At least, that's what he was told by the others every now and again. He sighed and gestured for her to get on with it already.
Seemingly thrilled by his cooperation, Shelby pulled out her notepad and pen, tapping the nib against the page. "What is your opinion of the rising numbers of vigilantes in the city? What with the Wolf Spirit and Amethyst becoming more and more
well-known."
"Anyone is welcome to try and help others. My only issue is that vigilantes do it illegally. I can understand why they don't join the heroes and such, but it would be nice to have more heroes to work with."
She nodded and scribbled down what he said, her pen gliding across the page at a speed he didn't think was humanly possible.
"Many people have mixed opinions on Smajor, as a result of his separation from Exor's Alliance and what this could mean for the future. Can you offer any insight into it? Your thoughts and feelings are welcome." She looked up at him expectantly.
"Regardless of his separation, Smajor is still a criminal that needs to be brought to justice for what he's done. He has a chance of a reduced sentence - or potentially reformation and rehabilitation - but the more crimes he commits the slimmer that chance gets. At this point, that chance is barely even there." he turned on his feet and began to walk off. "Thank you."He didn’t quite know why, since most reporters would, but she didn’t pursue him, which meant he got to have a nice long walk back to the base with civilians gawking at him in his costume.
---
"You need to have fun," Lizzie decided, flopping onto the sofa with the grace of a fish helplessly trying to swim on land. He didn't look up from his phone, choosing instead to scroll and scroll, staring at the pictures online and the comments and the plethora of articles about it. Apparently he and Lizzie had interrupted Mythical and The Lost King during a robbery (he hadn't noticed any money or anything on them, so maybe they were on their way to the location?) and it just so happened to be that Smajor was planning on robbing that same place.
It sounded like a load of bullshit to him. Coincidences like that weren't really a thing, especially not when Smajor was involved. If not for his separation from Exor's Alliance, he'd have thought it was a ploy to distract him while the robbery occurs.
"Really now?" he drawled, his thumb scrolling once more. He landed on a photo taken by a civilian through a window of him trapped between the ice spires and Smajor grinning coyly, stalking forwards. He hadn't noticed that before. The picture was followed by another of when he'd flung himself at the villain. There was a string of photos of him and Smajor from that fight, plus ones from the past he couldn't even remember. There was no caption or anything, but it had a startlingly large amount of likes on it.
"Yup." she leaned over his shoulder to look at his phone. Jimmy pressed the screen to his chest within a second and glared at her. She glared back, then swiped at his phone.
"Hey!" he exclaimed, shuffling away. "Stop it!" she made another move for his phone.
Fed up, Jimmy rose to his feet and made a beeline for his room in the base. He could hear Lizzie fumbling to stand and pursuing him, which only motivated him to speed up and reach his room faster. He threw the door open, stepped inside and slammed it shut, covering the lock in a thick sheen of slime. The doorknob rattled for a few moments, then went still.
He sighed with relief and walked over to the high-backed chair at his desk, falling backwards into it. It creaked under his weight, but held firm. He glanced down at his phone screen, peeling it away from his chest.
Shelby had already published her article. Huh. That was fast. Jimmy took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he might read, then clicked on the article.
Exor's Alliance Foiled This Time by Seablings
Earlier today, at around 2.45pm, the villains Mythical and The Lost King fought against the Seablings - the Blue Axolotl and the Codfather - and were arrested later by police. A surprise guest showed up at the scene just before the police arrived: the villain Smajor, recently separated from the other members of Exor's Alliance. Ocean Queen, when asked about his appearance, stated that she "didn't expect him to be here, if I'm honest. He tends to work in a more subtle way than daylight robberies, so it was strange to see him at the scene." She was also asked about how she believed he escaped, and she said that apparently he had concealed himself within a dome of ice then flew off when it shattered.
The Codfather was also asked about his thoughts on Smajor's separation and what it might mean for the future. He said that "Regardless of his separation, Smajor is still a criminal that needs to be brought to justice for what he's done. He has a chance of a reduced sentence - or potentially reformation and rehabilitation - but the more crimes he commits the slimmer that chance gets. At this point, that chance is barely even there." His statement indicates that there's a chance for Smajor's redemption, although it is a small one.
Does the separated villain seek to cut ties to criminal organisations and rehabilitate himself? Will he start cooperating with the House Blossom Alliance? Only time will tell.
It was a remarkably shorter article than usual, but he saw the response to it. She had gotten more publicity for this one than their others. Maybe shorter articles had become her new style. There wasn't much information to go off of for this one, after all. He clicked on a few other articles to be sure, but most of them were roughly the same length.
So this was more tight-lipped than usual. None of them mentioned the arresting officer, any hints of a court date, not even where they would temporarily be contained until their trial. Not even Jimmy got to know that!
He thought about what the article said. Could Smajor really be aiming for redemption? If so, then why'd he attack him? It just didn't make much sense.
Something slid under the door. Jimmy stood up and walked over to the door to see what it was.
Tickets. Tickets to a concert, and a note. I know this is short notice, but I figured you needed a pick-me-up and remembered you mentioning wanting to go. -J & L
He smiled and looked at the tickets. Quickly, he searched up the venue and the time. It was a short walk, and an even shorter drive, and allowed him to have the afternoon to relax beforehand.
There were three tickets, so he guessed Joel and Lizzie were coming with him. Jimmy grabbed a pen from his desk and scribbled on the back of the note, sliding it under the door. The slime coating the lock melted. Jimmy opened the door and immediately bumped into Joel.
"Oh!" he said. "I didn't know you were here."
Joel grinned. "Yeah, well I just finished my patrol, so I figured I'd come back." he paused, his gaze flickering across Jimmy's body, lips tugging downwards into a frown. "Lizzie told me your day was a bit shit. You feeling any better?"
"Yeah, I feel better."
"Good, good." Joel began to walk down the hall to his room. "See ya!" He threw open his door with a loud bang and stepped inside, slamming the door shut behind him. Within less than a minute, music blared from his room, lighting up the corridor with its sound.
Stepping back into his room, he changed out of his costume and went for a shower. It was a shorter one compared to previous days, mostly because he didn't have the energy when he'd most likely get back to his apartment smelling of beer and vomit.
It had been a while since he'd gone out, let alone for a concert. Rooting through his clothes, he fished out a simple black top with a neon fish curled in a bubble and some dark jeans. He also grabbed a green hoodie, for comfort more than anything. It probably wasn't what other people would be wearing, but it was comfortable enough and he could manage to stand for hours in this.
With too much time to know what to do with, Jimmy resigned himself to passing the time scrolling through his phone, then checked the schedule for the rest of the week. A few patrols here and there, but nothing that would take too long or be too hard to do if he were tired or hungover. Good.
He groaned, lying back in his chair, allowing his eyes to shut.
---
There was a knock at his door. Jimmy opened his eyes and got to his feet. "We're going!" Lizzie said. "Hurry up!"
Oh, right. The concert. Jimmy stuffed the tickets into his pocket and grabbed his trainers, doing up the laces then rushing to the door. "Sorry, I was taking a nap."
"Let's get going, yeah?" Joel kissed Lizzie on the cheek, his hands grabbing her waist and reaching into her pockets. He pulled out the car keys with a triumphant cry and ran down the corridor. Lizzie yelled and ran after him. Jimmy smiled and walked behind them both, his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.
Lizzie had chased Joel all the way to the car and had stolen the keys from him with ease, holding them above her head and sticking her tongue out at him. He jumped to try and grab it, but each time she held it up slightly higher. He cursed under his breath.
Jimmy snuck up behind his sister, making eye contact with Joel and giving a nod. Then, whilst Lizzie was distracted, jumped onto her back. She yelped in surprise and dropped the keys in favour of holding him to ensure he didn't fall. Joel dove down onto the pavement to pick the keys back up and held them aloft. He unlocked the car and clambered into the driver's seat.
"Traitor," Lizzie mumbled, setting Jimmy down and opening the door to the backseat. Both of them sat down and shut the door. They grabbed onto each other with one hand and another on the door.
"I'm not that bad of a driver," Joel said.
"You drove past three red lights, a stop sign, then nearly got hit by a truck because you got distracted by a McDonald's sign." Lizzie deadpanned. "Frankly, I'm surprised the car doesn't have a dent in it yet."
"I'm pretty sure it does, actually." Jimmy piped up.
Joel shot him a look in the rear-view mirror. "You promised not to tell her!" he hissed. Before Lizzie could ask a follow-up question, the engine started and they were on the road.
It was a quick drive to the venue, and they got there with minimal traffic. Most people, it appeared, had chosen to get there on foot.
They showed their tickets and were permitted entry, and then they were standing in a crowded hall with a stage at the front. So far he could see three microphone stands, a drum-kit and an amplifier.
"Who are we here to see again?" he asked.
"It's a new band that Katherine and Pix went to see a while ago. Gem and The Scotts. Apparently they're really good." Lizzie glanced over her shoulder at a small bar opposite the entrance. "Do you guys want anything?"
"Nah, I'm good." Jimmy said.
"Same," Joel said. At Jimmy's confused look, he added: "What? I don't feel like drinking right now. Maybe later."
Lizzie shrugged. "Alright."
It took a little while for anything to happen. Jimmy could feel the excitement and anticipation permeate, thick in the air. Almost as thick as the stench of cologne and perfume that some people were wearing, alongside the smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol. It was a bizarre mix and in any other setting would be unpleasant. Here though, it wasn't quite as bad. Still stifling, but not as bad.
The hall was plunged into darkness. All chatter fell silent immediately. Jimmy looked up expectantly at the stage, hearing his heart drumming in his chest.
A spotlight shone down on a man with brown hair and yellow makeup over his eye in the shape of a lightning bolt. He wore a black top and a sleeveless jacket, showing off the matching lightning bolt on his upper arms, as well as a gold necklace and matching bracelets. He tapped his drumsticks together, then began to play.
A second spotlight shone down in the centre, on a woman with orange hair with a pastel yellow shirt under green dungarees with pink flowers on them and a thick belt at her hips. She had green makeup over her eye and antlers that poked through her hair. She grabbed the microphone, her foot tapping along to the drumbeat.
Finally, the last spotlight turned on. A man with teal hair and matching eyes, along with a see-through jacket and a white shirt with a green heart on it, a belt with a few chains dangling from it and white and green sneakers. He held a cyan guitar and strummed the first few chords.
Then the song kicked in. Barely even into the first song and already there were people jumping and dancing. The woman opened her mouth to start singing.
"Is that Gem?" he asked.
"No, her name's Jacqueline." Joel said sarcastically. "Yes, she's Gem. Why else would the band be called Gem and the Scotts?"
He shrugged and turned his attention back to the music. He could feel the music rattling his bones, vibrating in the air and buzzing.
The lead singer, Gem, leapt into the chorus.
Even though he didn't know the lyrics, Jimmy attempted to join in. He was jumping and singing and he couldn't help but feel alive. Dopamine and adrenaline tangled in his veins, locked in a song and dance of their own.
Another verse came around, then the chorus again. This time, the guitarist and the drummer joined in to harmonise on the notes.
Everything seemed to slow down. The world around him muted. All he could hear was the guitarist's voice, cutting through the racket like a knife through butter. That familiar voice. Now that he was looking for it, they were more similar than he first thought: same hair, same way of holding himself, same glint in his eyes and grin.
Smajor.
He felt someone tapping on his shoulder.
"Jimmy? Is something wrong?" Lizzie yelled, her voice barely heard over the noise of the hall.
And suddenly, crashing down on him like a tidal wave, Jimmy was swept away by the sheer volume of his surroundings. Each voice, each chord and bang of the drum pulled him further and further away from shore until he was drowning in it.
He fumbled for an answer. "Nope! All good!" He chuckled awkwardly, although she probably couldn't hear him, and turned his attention back to the guitarist.
Scott. The guitarist and the drummer were both named Scott.
Smajor's real name was Scott.
His body felt tingly. He knew Smajor's name. Or, at least part of it. There were tons of people named Scott, but he was in a band. A recognisable one. He could probably look up who was in the band and get the full name. Maybe an address, if he looked hard enough.
No. Stop it, Jimmy. You're meant to be having fun and enjoying yourself, not thinking about Smajor. Worry about that later.
He refocused on the music, and found the first song already drawing to a close.
"How many songs are there?" he whispered.
Joel answered him. "Uh, I think around thirteen or so."
"Oh, okay. Thanks." Twelve more songs. He could handle twelve more songs. Twelve more songs of watching Smajor play guitar right in front of him and not be able to do anything about it.
He couldn't handle twelve songs. Not without getting shitfaced. And he couldn't do that since he had work tomorrow.
Damn it.
Jimmy glanced back up at the stage as another song began. He could at least try and have some fun for now.
---
The concert ended close to midnight. They hadn't drunk anything, luckily, so they were able to get out and reach the car mostly okay. Before he could go very far, however, he heard footsteps behind them.
The guitarist.
Shoot, was he gonna try something? Did he know Jimmy recognised him and wanted to deal with him before he did anything with the information? He clenched his fists at his side and prepared himself for whatever might come next.
He was not prepared for the guitarist to walk up to him and act friendly. "Hey," he said, holding out his hand for Jimmy to shake. "I'm Scott."
Joel and Lizzie shared a look then left him there alone. He swallowed the lump in his throat to shake Scott's hand. "I'm Jimmy." It was a bad idea, revealing his name. He should've lied, but it's too fucking late now you idiot.
"That's a nice name. Jimmy. I like it." His name sounded different in Scott's mouth, as if each letter was cherished. His chest tightened and he quickly pulled his hand back before it started to sweat.
"You, uh, you were good. Up on stage, I mean." Stuttering already. Jeez, this was already shaping up to be wonderful. He was gonna be mocked over this for months, no, years to come.
Scott smiled. "Thanks."
It was at that moment when it occurred to Jimmy where he was: on a dark road, at midnight, with a man who seemed to be Smajor and could probably fight him here and now if he were so inclined. There were so many ways this interaction could go wrong. So many ways he could end up injured, or bleeding out, or worse.
He didn't need to worry about that, though.
Scott stepped closer. He wasn't quite Jimmy's height, but he was pretty close. Only a few centimetres between them. Their noses were pretty close together. If he wanted to he could just lean forward and- nope. He was not going to see that train of thought through, thank you very much!
"Not to be rude or anything, but... do you want something? I just can't guess why we're talking right now."
"Maybe I just wanted to talk to someone here and you were the first person I saw," Scott said with a shrug. "Maybe I just thought you were cute and wanted your number." He ended that statement with a wink and a slight movement even closer.
He flushed. "Do you want my number?"
"Well, only if you wanna give it to me," Scott chuckled. "I won't pressure you or anything." He didn't bring up the 'I think you're cute' thing, and frankly Jimmy didn't want to either.
"Okay." Scott handed him his phone after unlocking it. It was in a cyan case with small ice crystals and lightning bolt patterns on it. It was pretty cute, really. He typed out his number, then handed the phone back to Scott.
Why was he giving his number to his enemy? This could go wrong in so many ways.
He sent Scott a text saying 'hello' followed by a smiley-face emoji. Scott's phone pinged, and he put it back in his pocket. "You free this Saturday?" he asked.
"Um- yeah! Yeah, I'm free this Saturday. What, uhh, what time?" Oh god he was a mess. If Lizzie and Joel were here to see it, they'd be laughing in his face. And for good reason, too.
"Some time early afternoon? We can go grab a coffee or something." Scott suggested.
"Coffee sounds good," he replied.
"Nice." Scott turned around and began to walk off. "See ya later, cod-boy!" He called out.
The blood drained from his face within seconds.
He knew. Oh shit, he knew!
Jimmy looked down at his clothes just to check, and there was nothing fishy on show. He had his hoodie still on to cover his shirt, his shoes and jeans didn't have fish on them. He was wearing nothing fish-related or anything.
Maybe he called him that because he was gaping like a fish? No, then it'd be fish-boy instead of cod-boy.
As if to make the moment worse, Lizzie and Joel pulled up in their car next to him with the windows rolled down, grinning as if they'd watched everything that had just transpired. Knowing them, they probably did.
"Nice boy there," Joel pointed out.
He felt his face flood with heat and he rushed into the backseat of the car, strapping himself in and hiding his face in his hands. "You won't let me live that down, are you?"
Both of them shook their heads. "Never."
He groaned and let his head fall back. His phone buzzed. Jimmy fished his phone out of his pocket and turned it on. On his lock screen - a picture of him, Lizzie and Joel hanging out a year or so ago - was a message from an unknown number.
Looking forward to saturday :)
He turned off his phone and held it against his chest.
"Ooh, has he said anything?" Lizzie inquired, looking at him through the rear-view mirror, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
"No! No, nothing like that!" He wanted to curl up into a ball and die. That would be preferable to this.
He didn't respond to the text. He put his phone back into his pocket and shut his eyes, hoping for this to have been a really bizarre dream and that he'd wake up any minute to a normal day.
That didn't happen, naturally, because the universe was a load of shit that despised him.
What had he gotten himself into?