Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Minnie, get over here you look about the right size.”

Mina hesitantly glanced away from her checklists for the evening, praying that someone who actually went by Minnie was nearby. Angie the coordinator they had hired to manage the “booth babes”, as Mr. Crane called them, was frantically waving for her attention. Groaning inwardly Mina rolled out of her chair and made her way over to the small group clustered around a wheeled clothing rack

“It's Mina actually,” plastering on a polite smile Mina extended her hand in greeting only to have a black garment bag shoved into her hands. “uhhh?”

“One of the girls had to back out, she's allergic.”

“Allergic to what?”

“Cats!” Angie grimaced as though she should already know. “Now hurry up and put that on. We just need one more girl for the Hopscotch display.”

Mina looked at her incredulously, “you do realize I'm Mr. Crane's assistant right? I'm going to be kind of necessary-”

“Mr. Crane!” Angie bent around her to call out to her boss by the main stage. Mina looked back to see her boss's unamused expression striding over to join them.

“You called?”

“Mr. Crane one of the girls had to back out last minute and we have no one for the Hopscotch display. We can't just have that cat walking around in there. It'll ruin the whole vibe! Take it from sexy jungle to plain old zoo.”

While Mina was trying to work out why a teleportation device needed a sexy jungle vibe, Mr. Crane looked over at her garment bag.

“So you need Mina for it?” he didn't look convinced, giving her a once over that brought a flush of shame to her freckled cheeks. Mina didn't think she looked particularly bad. She worked out enough to stay in shape and her outfit was professional albeit a bit longer in the sleeve than what some of the other women that night were wearing. Okay, the chunky yarn cardigan might have been a bit on the frumpy side, but they kept AC blasting in these places.

“She'll fit it! Take her hair down, toss on some lipstick and no one will know the difference.”

“Sir I have the schedule and notes for this evening.” Mina held up her clipboard meaning to show that he really couldn't dispose of her for an impromptu modeling gig.

“Oh perfect.” He took the clipboard from her hands, “you could've just passed it off to Justin. No need to call me over next time. Have fun, play nice.”

Turning on his heel Mr. Crane made his way back to the stage, leaving behind a very smug looking Angie and a slack jawed Mina.

“Now go on and change.” Angie made a shoo-shoo gesture flapping her hands as she went back to the clothing rack. One of the nearby models gave her a sympathetic look, “sorry, but that cat sucks. Try not to look it in the eye.”

Angie had been wrong and the model had been right. The dress was not her size; it felt two sizes smaller. It's white fabric was a cheap stretchy material that clung to her like a second skin, covered in sloppily stitched on shreds. If she were to guess it was supposed to look like she had been attacked by the cat or maybe was torn up from being in the “jungle”. Personally she felt it was giving more of a sexy mummy vibe. Not something she would have chosen to wear while on display like a mannequin, but maybe if she was a little tipsy looking for a hookup on Halloween.

Below her, pacing like the caged tiger she believed herself to be, was Lady Astarte of the Ashera, the largest, prettiest, and down right meanest cat that Mina had ever had the displeasure of sharing a glass container with. Upon being placed into the small glass room by one of the technicians the beast had spent the first five minutes chasing her in circles while trying to viciously claw at her legs. She'd have kicked the little terror if Angie hadn't warned her it was some fancy lab grown rental worth more than she made in two years.

She supposed it could have been worse. At least nothing was really being expected of her that evening. Mina had asked the technician about the Hopscotch, figuring she would at least be able to regurgitate some factoids if anyone came by asking about it. He had given her the rundown about the safety features: one way doors, weight sensors, a dead man's switch to ensure no solo operation, the same materials they used for space shuttles, and a bunch of other junk that got too complicated for her to keep up with.

When she had asked if she'd be expected to actually use it, worrying about how her Ladyship would react to being zapped from one place to another, he had assured her they would be doing no such thing.

“Between you and me it doesn't actually transport anything. The most we've been able to do with it is combine different fruits.”

“Combine?!”

“Yeah, it just kind of mushes whatever is in it together into something new. We've made these thing called Banearys. It's a combination of bananas, peaches and cherries. They'd sell great if we could just work out how to stop it from growing like a million pitts.”

Realizing from her alarmed expression that she wasn't concerned about fruits he had shown her that the machine was not actually plugged in to do anything. Conveniently he had been called away shortly after leaving their setup unmanned. Maybe that was why the foot traffic was so low for their area.

Nothing to do for the rest of the night other than to stand around trying not to get further on her feline companion's bad side. It was then that she noticed that the cat had stopped it's pacing. A low growl came from the creature as it crouched hackles raised staring out towards the convention center.

There was the deafening roar as the whole machine violently lurched. Mina's head cracked against the glass wall as everything went dark around her.

“Hey babes, ya listening?” Malevola knocked on the beige laminate of Sonar's cubicle to get his attention. The tall bat hybrid was hunched over a slim laptop he had brought from home. Across the screen were various windows artfully arranged to display tickers, analytic reports, and even a live news broadcast in one corner.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah one sec. I'm just checking PXL's ESP from last quarter. If I'm right then they're about to see a massive-”

“Sonar. Convention Center. Now.” Robert's dry voice crackled in his earpiece. “And play nice, the tabloids have been looking for any excuse to shit on us since that crap with Shroud.”

“But PXL...” Sonar whined feebly gesturing to his screen.

“Just get Waterboy to watch it.” Mal suggested.

Begrudgingly Sonar pulled himself away, speaking into his earpiece as he went. “Herm, get to my desk. The minute you see PXL hit 23% I need you to call me and I'll walk you through it from there. Understand?”

“Y-y-yes t-that is a understanding that I...can have.” Waterboy ever eagerly replied as the sound of a glass shattered in the background. “j-just one thing b-before that.”

“He's going to fuck it up.” Sonar groaned in defeat as he hustled to the front doors with Malevola matching pace.

“Oh yeah, like one hundred percent. Explosions don't exactly give us spare time though.”

Bursting through the doors Sonar unfurled into his winged form, shredding through the regenerative material of his suit like paper. With natural ease he leapt into the air with Malevola landing gracefully upon his back from a portal overhead.

“I thought you'd have been excited, isn't this like some big tech thingy?

“It's hosted by Crane Technologies, trust me they're playing like they're hot shit, but they'll probably be out of the game within the year.”

“Well they're big enough to get that kind of attention.” Mal pointed over his shoulder to the smoldering building glowing in contrast to the darkening sky.

“I'm just saying, watch it be insurance fraud.”

As they swooped in the gust from his wings parted the clouds of smoke, revealing a gaping hole in the side of the building.

“Entrance or exit?” Malevola asked hopping down with her blade at the ready.

“Entrance. Not much debris on the lawn.” Sonar began scaling the wall, planning to crawl in the cover of the smoke obscured ceiling rather than the obvious foot path. “Plus I heard the call. Things were just kicking off. No way they're out already.”

“Is that why you were taking your sweet ass time?' Taking his lead Malevola opened a portal to slide into the building.

“Maybe...” Sonar let out a screech into billowing smoke. Fumes didn't bother his enhanced lungs, but that didn't make him able to see through it. The feedback gave him a reasonable view of the center below him. His screech had attracted the attention of several potentially armed individuals. Heads swiveled scanning for the source, but were unable to locate him. It looked like most of the convention goers had made it outside, so taking hostages didn't seem to be a priority, but there were at least three people that were being made to kneel against a wall away from the flames. Most of the individuals seemed to be grouped around the equipment, but nobody was carrying anything out.

“Okay, kinda weird. Looks like we got three civs against the back wall and a bunch of guys by the machine demos. Doesn't seem like they're loading anything up.”

“You think it's a trap?” Malevola didn't sound too concerned. Why would she be? Her powers didn't exactly make her the easiest to confine. “Make a big fuss to lure us out then attack?”

“Nah, when I screeched they looked nervous. Don't think they would be if they were ready to jump us.”

“Robert? Think you can get a peak for us?”

“Let's see what we've got.” Robert's detached voice joined in, accompanied by the faint sounds of clacking keys. “Alright I see...a lot of guns, and your hostages. Looks like they're interrogating them? The one in the helmet is holding one of them by the cheeks.”

“Copping a feel doesn't seem like the most effective strategy.” Sonar mused.

“Depends on grip.” Malevola offered.

“Face cheeks. I was talking about...” Robert sighed with exasperation. “Might be a mind reader or something. The rest look like they're searching for something in the tech.”

“So no traps signs?”

“No trap signs.”

“Sweet, Sonar you want to run distraction while I slip the hostages out?”

“Say less.” Dropping from the ceiling with a earsplitting wail Sonar landed atop the biggest piece of machinery he could find. Clear of the smog he could see the terrified faces of the crew in front of him as they raised up their weaponry. He easily knocked the closest ones down with a swipe of his claw. Bullets stung his hide as those further away began firing, forcing him to take flight once more. He began swooping in and out of the smoke, grabbing thugs as he went and throwing them towards the open wall. Couldn't exactly let these guys burn to death while repping SDN.

As he descended once more the men parted to reveal a smaller figure wearing what looked like an oversized spike ball on their head. A joke about failed DJs was just coming to mind when a blast of red energy shot at him from the helmet. Sonar rolled mid air, but felt burning heat clip his wing sending him careening to the ground.

“You good?” Malevola checked in over the comm.

Sonar responded with an incoherent grumble as he hefted himself up onto his wings. The assailants were heading for the exit with the masked spike ball covering their retreat. It shot several more blasts of energy around the center striking machinery to create new bursts of flame.

“They're bringing the building down. Is everyone out? We can cut them off outside and pin them between us.”

“All good, see you on the other side.” Malevola chuckled as the sounds of gunfire began to carry over the comm.

Preparing to take flight once more Sonar froze. A tapping sound was coming from somewhere nearby. Too varied to be one of the machines. His ears twitched around trying to locate the source.

Mina banged her fists against the stupid one way door of the pod while Lady Astarte yowled incessantly from the floor.

“I'm trying, damn it!” she growled at the cat, “HELP!!!”

She couldn't believe this bullshit. She was going to die being cooked to death in a hideous dress while having her flesh gouged by some fancy ass rental cat, all because she hadn't had the guts to tell her boss to find another damn model. Her job description was supposed to be calendars, notes, coffee runs, not go-go dancing in a fucking test tube.

While her view of the outside was obscured by thick clouds of smoke there was a orange glow that had been growing ever brighter since the explosion had gone off. The force of which had smacked her head against the seemingly impenetrable glass causing her to black out. By the time she had come back around everything was covered in smoke. She had called out for help with the only reply being that of her hissy furry companion swiping at her legs as though she were to blame for this predicament.

As the heat of the flames grew the sounds of gunfire and screeching had begun before suddenly being cut off following what sounded like several more explosions. Hoping this meant that law enforcement or maybe even one of those hero teams that were being advertised the past few months had shown up; she began trying to get someone's attention.

It was at that moment that she succeeded. A pair of glowing red eyes emerged from the darkness, startling her backwards against the wall.

“Aw shit, we missed one,” a flat voice came from the eyes before her, “or two?”

It's gaze flicked to the cat hissing while trying to press it's way behind her. Mina fought the urge to scream, instead managing to choke out, “the door won't open.”

“I wasn't being comprehensive about it...Herm not n...look she's in like this glass thing...”

It took her a moment, but she realized whoever was outside must be talking to someone else.

“Look I got it okay I just...” the voice trailed off as a more substantial rumble shook the ground.

“Uh?”

“Shit, yeah, uh cover your ears.”

Not sure what was coming next Mina clamped her palms over her ear and huddled down with the feline firmly wedging itself beneath her legs. A painfully loud wailing tore through the air so loud she could feel her skin rippling. Below her the cat writhed, desperately pawing at it's ears before turning it's frustration to her. Rather than just using it's claws, this time the furious Lady decided the addition of her needle sharp teeth were needed for the task at hand.

Said teeth punctured her leg several times as she flailed around trying to loose it without exposing her ears to the unbearable noise.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the sound stopped, “crap, what's this thing made of?”

“Aluminosilicate,” free of the noise Mina used the opportunity to scruff the little beast by the neck with one hand while pinching her jaw open with the other, “You little shit. At least I think that's what they told me. It's like NASA glass.”

“Yikes, that does not...that looks really bad.” the voice cringed, eyes squinting at her bloodied legs. She was inclined to agree, they would probably need a bit more than a band-aid. Another rumble shook through the building causing some roof tiles to smack down onto the glass above her. The building wouldn't stay up much longer.

“Could you just, uh open the door?” she pointed to the frame. “It doesn't open from this side.”

There was a pause where she could practically hear the embarrassment from the hero on the other side, before the door clicked open. Just as it swung open, pouring smoke into the compartment, the sound of crashing began.

“This is going to suck, sorry.” came the hurried voice seconds before something clamped tightly around her waist. A yowl sounded in the smoke nearby as her furry companion was, she assumed, similarly snagged. There was no time to even protest. Hair whipped her face. Smoke stung her eyes. Wind filled her ears along with a cacophony of scraping metal as the center collapsed around them.

Then moonlight. Mina gasped looking up into the clear indigo of the night sky, free from burning smoke. Twisting her head down she saw an ocean of lights that made up Torrance marred only by the black cloud emitting from the rubble of what must have once been the convention center.

“You good?”

Turning back Mina finally saw her rescuer enveloped in the silver glow of the moonlight. Large leathery wings covered in cuts, sharp talons holding her tightly, shaggy fur, and ivory fangs just below those glowing red eyes that had cut through the smoke. He was beautiful. In a gothic painting sort of way. All she could do was gape in amazement at him.

“So uh I'm just going to set you down over there, because this cat's kind of a dick.”

Looking to his other talon Mina saw Lady Astarte was a veritable whirlwind of teeth and claws doing her best to mangle the thick hide of their savior. Unable to stop herself Mina burst out into laughter.

“I-I'm so sorry,” she wheezed, “but I have been putting up with that asshole for most of the night.”

“So it's not your cat?” He opened one talon tentatively

Still wheezing with slightly hysterical laughter she begged, “please, please don't drop her. She's a rental.”

“What I'm hearing is she's insured.”

“Let's cut her some slack, she's been stuck in a glass cage surrounded by fire before being thrust into the air. She's fancy, but I don't think she's flying fancy.”

The large bat hero circled them down to the park near the ruined center where emergency services were tending to the evacuated. Lights flashed from dozens of cameras as they came into land. The bat lowered her gently to the ground while releasing the sputtering Astarte who instantly scaled the nearest tree. As Mina tried her best to stand up, without the skimpy dress revealing more to the cameras than she was comfortable with, a man's hand reached out to help her.

“Thank you,” she sighed gratefully taking the offered hand only to come face to face with her no longer winged hero. His face was still quite batty, but from the shoulders down he looked to be all business man. A rather battered business man, but still very corporate chic. He had just enough time to flash her a wink, before a crowd of reporters barreled their way through the crowd forcing them apart.

Chapter Text

“So...I was hoping that mentioning it would have been enough, but I can see that we need to have a proper talk.” Robert placed several fresh print outs on the meeting room table. Most prominent among them was a news article with a large shot of a red eyed Sonar; wings spread wide against the full moon, grasping a bloodied scantily clad woman and a terrified looking cat in his claws. The woman's face had been blurred out, but it looked every bit the classic monster movie poster.

“Sick.” Mal scooped up the picture for a closer look. Coupe leaned over her shoulder giving a small approving nod, “I might need a copy of that one.”

“It's not sick, it's...unflattering,” Blonde Blazer, in her less blonde form, spoke up from the head of the table.

“SDN wants to project a certain image, especially at times like this and this...” she gestured to the picture, “honestly...it kind of looks like you're about to eat them both.”

“I'm going to be honest, that cat was really tempting me.” Sonar admitted grabbing a copy for himself. Raising an amused eyebrow he added, “and I don't think I'd mind eating her either.”

That earned him a shove from Mal and a disapproving stare from Robert. “Our point is we need you guys to be more aware of the optics. Half of L.A. was burning just a few months ago and a lot of people aren't happy with how involved SDN was with that happening.” A few sets of eyes glanced in Coupe's direction, an urge that Sonar fought desperately. She was finally down to glaring at him once a day, which wasn't something he wanted to undo anytime soon.

“I'm a big ass monster sometimes Robbie, what do you want me to do about it?”

“I don't fucking know, maybe land further away from the damn news crews? Don't scare the people you're helping so much.” Robert pointed to the actual article below the photo.

Sonar knitted his brows together in confusion as he read.

When asked to comment on the so called rescue the woman pictured above, who wishes to remain anonymous, detailed to the South Bay Signal how the Superhero Dispatch Network's Chiroptera nearly deafened her. A process that led to several grevious injuries to the powerless woman, before roughly snatching her and a rare Ashera from the convention center only to abandon them at a nearby park where witnesses say it took several more hours to rescue the traumatized feline from a large sycamore. Torrance residents may remember the supposedly reformed hero from his days...

Sonar frowned dropping the article. He had thought the woman was grateful when the reporters had come flooding in. After fielding a dozen or so questions he went to find her only to see her getting bandaged up by paramedics. Had her injuries been worse than just a few cat scratches? What if she had gotten a concussion from the explosions or maybe one of his claws had broken something. Mal had shown up around that time so they didn't stick around, but now he was worried that something had been overlooked on his end. Not that he could let it show that he'd messed up.

“Well, what can I say Robbie boy? You win some you lose some. Some people just can't handle my killer vibe.”

Robert rolled his eyes continuing on, “It's not just Sonar, Prism would you care to explain about your little light show the other night?”

“Would that be the Glow Job or Booty Beam? I've been working on a few.”

So the rest of the meeting went with Robert and Blonde Blazer taking turns to point out various naughty behaviors that the members had been caught up in. It didn't escape Sonar's notice though that he was the only one who seemed to have a full page spread. Most of the others had been call complaints and a couple of videos that hadn't gained too much traction. Everyone else's mistakes looked rude at worst, unprofessional at best. He was the only one being painted as a-

Blonde Blazer clapped her hands together, breaking him free of his thoughts.

“Well that wraps things up for now. Break for lunch and we'll see you back in an hour.”

Sonar pulled straight his suit jacket as he rose to leave with the rest of the team when he felt a light tap on his shoulder. Malevola looked down at him, “hey, got a sec?”

“For you? Always,” Sonar smiled to hide the suspicion brewing in his gut.

She waited until everyone had left the room, before shutting the door and turning the lock.

“Well what di-”

Mal deftly swung the flat of her blade across the table, rattling several chairs in the process.

“-d you want? Why'd you do that?”

“Making sure Visi's not in here. Wanted to make sure it's just the two of us.”

“Just the two of us huh?” Sonar wiggled his brow suggestively.

“I just want to check in,” she brushed him off, “I know you were playing it off but that got to you didn't it?” She pointed to the print outs still littering the table.

“What that? So I freaked a chick out. It's what I do. I don't...I mean I...I just...”

He trailed off as Mal hit him with that look. The one that had first gotten him to really talk when they had first started hanging out. That look that she just knew where his mind was at, because hers had once been there too.

“She...she laughed.” he sat back down at the table. “I made a joke about the feral ass cat and she laughed. We joked. It felt like...I don't know.”

“Go on,” Mal joined him in the next seat over.

“When people see me like this,” he gestured to his more human body, “ they might raise an eyebrow, stare a little, but usually they brush it off. Especially here in LA where we have so many metas. When I look like that though,” he gazed down at the photo displaying an snarling open mouth with glinting fangs, “well they don't exactly send me to help with taxes.”

He paused to think, trying to find what he wanted to say, while Malevola waited patiently.

“Do you remember that stripper? The one with the bat tattoo?”

“Super bendy, ass that you could bounce a quarter off of?”

“That's the one. Well I thought the same thing that night. Different situation, but still. She was flirty, making eye contact, which I know was just to get me to buy that private dance.”

“As strippers do.”

“Exactly, but there were other women there who wouldn't have done that even for the pay out. You know? So we got back there, she got super close, boobs all up on me.”

“Awesome.”

“Very. Anyway she's getting them all up in my face, grinding on my lap, and I get...excited.”

“And you transformed.”

They were getting better about his transformations, especially with SDN's help, but there were still certain situations in which Sonar could not control himself. Potentially life threatening scenarios, unchecked raged, too much...stimulation seemed to be some of his biggest triggers.

“Yeah and she wasn't into it anymore. The minute I flipped, you should have seen the look she gave me. It was like she thought I was about to attack her. Like she was looking at her fucking coffin. Which I'm not faulting her for, it's why we left. Look at me, I'm fucking scary.”

“But the lady in the photo wasn't scared.”

“I didn't think she was.” his ears drooped a bit despite himself. “It's not like a sex thing. She's hot, but that's not it.”

“Not feeling like freaking too many fuckers out anymore?” Mal smirked playfully.

“Maybe? I mean what if I have to fly some old bag to the hospital and she's been reading this crap, thinks I'm there to eat her ass, and has a fucking heart attack?”

“Then you fly her to the hospital like you were supposed to do? Sorry.” she quickly apologized upon seeing his annoyed expression. “Your full bat form isn't really keeping up with the image that your current form is. So it hits a little harder when you feel like you've been super heroic only to have these assholes talk about you like you're-”

“Still a fucking monster.” he muttered bitterly.

“And when cover girl here laughed at your joke you didn't feel like that?”

“It was the first time a civilian hasn't looked at me like that in a while. The last time was when I was saving people during the riots. Even then a lot of them were scared when I first rolled up.”

Malevola leaned back further than the chair should have gone, using her tail to keep it upright so she could get a proper stretch while she thought.

“Maybe we should talk to Blazer about it.”

“What?” he stiffened at the suggestion.

“Now hear me out. I'm not going to say anything to her without your sign off.” Mal held up her hands placatingly. “I was thinking, they want to talk about how we've been presenting to the press, but what about them?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean think about all the times they show off the Z-team or the program to the public. Do they send Golem or Prism to do interviews? Are you batted up or in your suit in press releases? They're preaching that we're changed villains, but they're not really letting people see the shit we can't change. So when people do see that stuff they get scared, because to them that's still the villain stuff.”

Sonar templed his fingers as he thought on it. Mal's line of thought made sense. Desensitize the public to his bat form, make it seem less taboo when he showed up to help in it. That would also mean putting himself out there more, which would invite more scrutiny. He wasn't sure if he could handle that right now.

“Can...Can I get back to you on it?”

“Can you get back to me on it?” Mal stuck out her tongue in disgust, “you make it sound like I'm your boss. Gross. You tell me what you want to do and we'll do it, I'm not handing out deadlines.”

“See I knew there was a reason why I chose you to be my sponsor.”

“Because I gave you an ultimatum and broke you out of jail?”

“Mostly that, but also because your so damn supportive.” he clasped his hands together, fluttering his lashes in mock admiration.

Mal checked the time on her phone. They still had enough time to hit the food truck on the corner before the next shift started. There was one last thing she wanted to touch base about. “Speaking of, how has cutting back been going? Back when I was using, bummer crap like this could get me going...”

“It's been a couple of weeks actually.” Sonar realized with a bit of surprise. He hadn't really been counting, just going about his day to day.

“Great! You'll-”

“Call you if I get to feeling crummy, yeah yeah.”

“Alright dickhead fun talk over, let's get some greasy ass burgers.”

Mina clutched her head in frustration. She had called, emailed, left what felt like a million messages with the South Bay Signal begging to speak with someone about the article on her screen. Shortly after the paramedics had begun cleaning up her legs a spectacled reporter had approached her, asking her to describe her rescue. Eager to talk about how Sonar, the bat formed hero, had swooped in to save her at the last second. The man had asked her all sorts of questions and she had answered them all with gusto, going on to even describe the ferocious feline that her shredded her legs.

She had thought it would make for a funny anecdote. Somehow in a room full of fire and villains, a cat had managed to be the most dangerous thing in the building that night. She had laughed with the hero, the paramedics, even the reporter had laughed when she told him. It was funny. Yet here her words were on the article. Twisted to make the rescue into some kind of assault.

When she had woken up that morning there had been a text from Justin with the link, asking if she would need more time off for her “grievous injuries”. After that she had done everything she could to try to contact the reporter about correcting the story only to be met with a wall of silence. It was beginning to look like she would have to go to the news office in person, when a email pinged her mailbox.

Dear Ms. Mina Coyle,

I have received your numerous messages on the subject of this mornings article. The South Bay Signal has reviewed the recording of our conversation and does not believe it warrants a correction based upon the interview that you gave. However if you have more to say that may shed light on any misunderstandings that may have been had, I am always eager to spread the truth. I am unable to meet with you today, but will be available tomorrow afternoon between the hours of 1-4pm if you would like to discuss things further.

-Charles Kingsley

South Bay Signal

Mina drummed her fingers on her desk. Everything about the email seemed reasonable. He had recorded the conversation on his phone, for notes he said, so maybe she poorly explained what happened. It hadn't occurred to her at the time to ask for a copy so it wasn't like she knew what she had sounded like. Sometimes her nerves made her jittery which could have been mistaken for fear. He also seemed willing to hear her out despite her probably overloading his answering machine.

Anxiety gnawed at her, but she couldn't tell if it was because of the reporter or her own overreacting. All she knew was that she wanted to set the record straight. Clicking reply, she hurriedly wrote back agreeing to come in at one o'clock sharp the next day to speak on the issue. Afterwards she wasn't sure what to do with herself.

Mr. Crane had given everyone who had been injured in the attack on the convention center a week off to recover. An easy feat as it seemed no one had received more than a few scrapes. That had struck Mina as a bit odd, but she supposed it was thanks to SDN's swift arrival. While the attendees had been rescued it most of the gang managed to elude capture, outside of some low ranking muscle. Perhaps her inability to escape the Hopscotch alone helped give them enough time to escape.

Mina walked to her window which had a partially obscured view of the interstate peppered with Billboards. One of which displayed a caped hero underneath the bold letters of SDN along with their phone number. Did they keep up with news stories like this she wondered. Surely they had to have some kind of PR department with all the attention they got. So that probably meant he had seen it too.

Looking at the number an idea gripped her. The story might not be corrected today, but there might still be something she could do with her free time that day even if it was more of a gesture than anything substantial. Dialing the number she navigated her way through the automated messages before finally being connected to an actual employee. To her relief they were rather friendly and open to her request. As soon as she got off the phone she hopped back onto her computer to look up various hero-related sites, hoping that one of them would help her out later that day.

“Sonar, hold back a sec.” Robert waved from his cubicle as Sonar was heading to locker room. It seemed like today was meant for stalling the bat hybrid's meal plans. “You've got a visitor.”

“Visitor?” Sonar narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He never had visitors. Everyone he hung out with worked alongside him at SDN. Robert pointed towards a meeting room where a dark haired woman sat with a Tupperware container fingers tapping on the table. He couldn't see her face from the angle they were standing.

“Who is that?”

“Poster girl, from your Signal story.”

“Aw crap.”

“She wants to talk to you.”

“Do I have to?” Sonar really wasn't looking to end the day with a lawsuit.

“I would talk to her,” Robert smiled, giving his shoulder a brisk pat as he returned to his desk.

Doing his best not to slump his shoulders Sonar trudged past his fellow Z-team members, who had slowed their exodus after hearing Robert call out to him, into the meeting room. As the door creaked open the woman stood up with a start that made Sonar flinch. There was an awkward silence as both of them said nothing.

Shoving his hands into his pockets Sonar did his best to remain aloof as he spoke. “Look if you're looking to sue me I think it's best that we both have lawyers present.”

“I- sue you? I wasn't- I'm talking to the Signal tomorrow I-”

“If it's blackmail then-”

“Hold on!” the woman shook her hands back and forth, “I came to apologize!”

“-you should probably. Wait? Apologize.”

“Yes! Apologize! My coworker sent me the article this morning” she said quickly, “I've been trying to get them to correct it. They won't talk with me until tomorrow though.”

“I uh....huh.” Sonar blinked.

“I was trying to joke about it. The rescue, but I must've come across- I just, I messed it up somehow and they made everything sound so terrible. I'm so sorry and thankful. I wanted to thank you and um apologize.”

The pair stared at each other before Sonar spoke again. “Seriously? You're not mad?”

“Mad at you? For saving my life?!” the woman laughed in disbelief, “you could've broken every rib I had and I'd be singing your praises through the pain.”

“Oh...well.”

She took a deep breathe,“I just needed you to know that's not how I saw that night. You didn't hurt me. You were my hero.”

A flush of pride brought heat to his cheeks, a sight that he was grateful to have hidden by the thick fur that ran down to his chest. “Well...it's all in a day's, er night's work...miss.” Sonar cringed internally. What in the phenomafucking hell was that line?

Desperately looking for a change of subject as the woman tilted her head in confusion he focused in on the Tupperware container. “What's that?”

“Oh that's...Well I feel like you should never go empty handed to apologize to someone. So I made you this.” Cracking open the container she revealed squares of peanut butter fudge nestled in brown parchment paper. Sonar sniffed the air catching an unusual aroma that would have gone unnoticed by most.

“Is that...are there crickets in there?!” he asked excitedly snatching up the container to grab a piece. Sure enough he spied several thoraxes texturing the smooth peanut butter surface.

“Yes, I went online to see if there were any foods you liked and found several sites saying that you ate bugs and...” she trailed off as she caught the open mouthed expression on his face. “...and that's super creepy of me and- Oh my god most of them were gossip boards. What if it was just more lies?”

“No, no I love bugs!” he clarified cracking into a wide fanged grin, “and small rodents, birds, mangos. Lots of real bat shit. So this is awesome!”

Relief replaced the terror on her face when a knock on the glass drew their attention. At the now ajar door was the brunette Blazer. “Hi, sorry to interrupt, but we're closing up.”

“Oh! Of course, sorry to hold you up.” the woman quickly grabbed her purse making her way into the hall where Sonar could see his teammates still hanging around trying to look inconspicuous. He followed her, not really wanting their short conversation to end.

“Uh hey, why the crickets?” he asked, zeroing in on the food to try to keep the conversation afloat.

“The worker let me try a few different kinds before buying. The crickets tasted kind of nutty and had a good crunch to them while the others were kind of chewy. I just figured they'd work better in the fudge.”

Sonar nodded in agreement, before the silence came unbidden once more; this time accompanied by the stares of the other members.

“Thank you again. I promise I'll try to work out something with those Signal guys tomorrow. Good night.” She waved politely to everyone in the hall, a little pink in her freckled cheeks, as she quickly exited the building.

“Did that bitch just say she ate bugs?” Prism grimaced

“Sure did,” Sonar grinned.

“You know we're not technically allowed to accept home made gifts.” Blazer peered at the bug filled fudge with revulsion.

“You will technically have to pry it from my cold dead hands.”

“Did you get her number?” Mal smiled mischievously giving him a nudge.

“I didn't even get her name.” he popped a piece of fudge into his mouth chewing with open delight before the words hit him. “Aw fuck.”