Chapter Text
The clicking of heels isn't abnormal on a office like SDN, clinical, professional and the constant smell of cleaning products, sometimes even a small hint of lavender if the current janitor feels bold enough.
It wasn't hostile, besides the staff filled with people with superpowers and egos big enough to skyrocket back and forth through the galaxy, it was clipped. Formal, company-like.
...but you liked it, and more importantly you liked what you did; to assess the load of paperwork like a woman in a mission, to file and catalog reports, mission cards, complains and dealing with customers like it's second nature. Of course it's not your dream job but it's something and it's a good something, the type to keep you happy for a long while.
Despiste it's formal, business and cold environment, it was more home to you than anything outside the SDN building. Today, like any other day, you started your day with a morning coffe and a half-eaten crepe that you wrapped with paper before leaving home, taking soft bites as you started to fill each report on the company system, humming to yourself as you started filing the paperwork of today.
Usually, at morning, you desk would be buried with complains about Team Z and overflowing calls about them, from old ladies who requested for help with groceries and actually was left alone on the other side of the road as her groceries travelled to home without her to harmed civilians who didn't got first aid and was left to bleed.
They were...chaotic, at best. The Phoenix Program—a project that intended to bring resocialization with ex-villains into hero's, your colleagues called bullshit, you sighed and said nothing.
You weren't opossed to it, per se, more like cautionary, it's a good idea that need patience and lot of work to go through—and until now?
They test and poke everyone's limit, see how can they break the rules without actually breaking it until they actually do, bending the fragile line of the law.
Your colleagues thought of it as villainous, crude, you think of it as defiance; a way to rebel agaisn't a system that was never meant for you to fit in, to brash agaisn't a role you don't see anyone cataloging you out of it, why doing anything to look good if those around you will always see you as something beneath their feet?
It probably doesn't get better when you work with a bunch of hero's and, for God's sake, Phenomenan—the pure pinacle of greatness.
"Hah.."
Pouting to yourself—and to your confident and loyal partner in crime, Mecha-man (who's actually a figure of said hero) you just suck it up and go through it, answering calls, taking bites of your breakfeast and serving as a mailman to Blonde Blazer like you always do, sometimes being the delivery girl to the dispatcher when they ordered something, attending both civilians complains and hero's complains.
Your life until now was quiet, quaint, serene and mundane. You lived like you could, did what you thought was right and faced the consequences of your actions, a boring and mediocre life you appreciated—
Until he came through the front door, a knot on his bushy eyebrows as he looked around, masked face with a deep blue suit with a yellow M on it, looking everywhere like a lost puppy.
Your first thought, as you pretended to not notice the man with caramel eyes walking at your direction, was simple;
'No fucking way.'
"Good morning." His tone was dry, flat but with a voice that seeped through your skin and gave goosebumps, low but decisive, rough yet gentle, your gave him your best smile as you pressed random words on the keyboard to look more busy than you actually wanted to be when you're so close to your break.
"G-Good morning! What can the SuperHero Dispatch Network do to you today, sir?"
His shoulders, broad and firm as he surely worked out, were stiffen as he rested his hands on the secretary—your—counter.
"I'm here for a meeting with Blonde Blazer?"
You blink—two, three times—before quickly going through the comically big paperload at your desk with so much concentration (and trembling fingers) that the guy with brown eyes started to shift a bit uncomfortable.
"Weird, she didn't warn me about anything.." Going through paper to paper until you find one you clipped with your Mecha-man stick, priorizing it since BB actually warned you about someone coming today. "She didn't started her shift yet, but you can wait here, if you'd prefer."
He hums and thank you but before he went to sit at the plush couch on the waiting room, but his eyes got a glance of the Mecha-man figure that stood proudly on your desk behind the counter, he squinted his eyes, lightly huffing and nodding his head towards the big headed little machine guy. "Cool guy."
And you smile—like, a real smile. With shinning eyes and showing canines type of smile, dimples and all.
"Trust me, cool doesn't even begin to say how amazing he is."
"You're a fan?"
"Yes! I, um, I mean—" You fumble a bit, it's just not every day you get face to face with your hero of all people while you are working, so if anyone comments on the blushing and agape mouth type of mess you found yourself into, you hope they're kind enough to not mention it. "I'm truly, truly thankful for your work and—and everything you made to protect the people, even after your dad....um, I'm sorry, I really shouldn't have said anything."
You quietly laugh to yourself, the type of laugh you do when you see yourself in a mirror and feels nothing but pity for the woman who once looked right back at you, every second on your head was spent planning this scenario in case it happened and of course it happened while you were working. And he's retired. Temporaly. Maybe.
He doesn't laugh at you, he just softly smiles, a small one but still a smile. "Hey, It's all good. After all you must be a real one after the whole coma thing, right? Thank you for your faith."
Man, doesn't that makes your heart go skyrocket towards places no man or creature ever reached.
"It's my pleasure! Um, before you go, could you please give me an autograph?"
He huffs amusedly at that.
"Of course, although I don't assure you of the decency of my handwriting." He looks at the Mecha-man pen you offered him, looks at you and then snorts. "What's the loyal fan name?" You laugh—because of course you laugh, he said that while gripping a pen with his robot armor on it and it's so silly—before answering him.
"It's [Name]." When he hums at your answer and writes something down on your finances notebook, there's no other emotion but pure bliss and giddyness on your body.
"Thank you so, so much, Mecha-man! And, hah, sorry for my lack of profissionalism.."
"Nah, if anything, it's really inspiring to see someone has some trust on me. Have a good day." And, really, if it wasn't for the other man who came for a interview—Waterboy, if you're not mistaken—had took his attention and Blazer appearing right after, you may have actually started a conversation. Maybe telling him how he saved your life more than once, maybe starting to cry because it's just so...
....so lame to see him walking away with your boss, so lame to touch the stars only to fall back to mud, grazing the galaxy with your fingertips to be thrown around again.
And so, because work calls and you're a responsible woman with meetings, calls and paperwork to do, you continue your day.
(This was the first time fate played with you two.)
Break, as lively and boring as ever, passed in a blink as you chatted with the old man with a colorful mouth.
"No, no, what do you mean Ross was right for cheating? That's—no!"
Break room was always kind of sparse, hero's came and went as they rested from their jobs and the few that lingered always tend to take a nap, taking every chance to rest their eyes before going back to the field. Of course, sometimes a whole team would just happen to meet and start light talk but besides that, it was always a bit alone.
"The fuck you mean? That wasn't cheating! They were in a fucking break!"
"Being in a break doesn't mean the relationship is over, it's so they can reorganize their thoughts so said relationship doesn't fall over!"
He huffs the way old people huffs when they are wrong but will never admit that, unwrapping the crepe you bought him with his usual annoyed face. "Bah, that crazy chick 's overreacting for fucking nothing, he damn apologized."
And you roll your eyes, licking your fingers clean from the cream-filled pastry you snacked on while proving your point.
"Apologizing is not enough." Cleaning her hands with a piece of paper, Chase huffs at you and rolls his eyes like the dipshit he is. "He needed to be spit on fire and served as meat in a rite of passage."
"You nuts or something?"
Despise yourself, your mind travels back at your meeting with Mecha-man. THE meeting. Did he passed the interview? Was a interview what BB needed with him? She didn't say anything, but you kind of hoped he got accepted, whatever he intended to do.
"Say, Chase." Your friendship with him started purely out of coincidence and miscommunication of lunch thief, both of you bringing the same lunchbox to work and getting the wrong one. "Is something on your sector missing?"
He cussed you a lot that day.
"Huh? Missing?" He taps his fingers on the break room table, looking at the ceiling with a squinted face before huffing. "Another dispatcher for Team Z left yesterday, but I'll be damned if that surprises me."
Chase—a young soul at heart and yet a old mind—wasn't subtle about the way he despised the idea of a team consistent of ex-villains in rehabilitation. More than one ocassion he called it 'bullshit' or 'a ideia more ugly than his diarrhea', you just said he was bitter he's too old to be on the field and that made him even angrier. Or maybe he's just has some kind of prejudiced with villains.
Before you could continue the topic, Jim—your childhood lover and, now, your lovely fianceé—texted you, you tried to not look too giddy.
JIM BAE <3
Sooo, what are you going to wear?
YOU
Depends :00 what do you want me to wear?
He takes longer to answer that, probably busy with work.
JIM BAE <3
Dunno, red or blue idk
Something that doesn't make you look off
That takes the smile off your face.
"Okay, quick change of topics, do you think I should wear red or blue for my date tonight?"
"Do I look like your fucking advisor to pick that? Get yourself a damn friend, hell."
He's not wrong about that; you didn't had friends, talk about the loneship of the engaged woman, right?
....You had friends, once, but Jim didn't liked them.
"Is this because you're mean and old and have no one, how's that?" Throwing a packet of Twinkie towards him, the old man catch it easily, throwing a 'you serious?' glance towards you before finishing his crepe.
"By the way, we're getting a new dispatcher for Team Z." Now that catches your interest, propping yourself from your chair to sit straight and Chase smiles at that, sipping on his coffee like he didn't drop a bombshell on you.
"Really? I thought they were going to cancel the program altogether since they—well, mostly the flame guy, actually—set the last dispatcher car on fire."
It was...a really hard day to anyone working on HR, and the insurance money wasn't a meek thing. Goosebumps appear all over your body at the very thought.
"They have balls instead of brains by keeping this fuckass program alive, I respect the gal but Blazer is dumb as hell for keeping this up."
Taking the dirty plastic wrapper with remains of crepe you both eat, you toss it to the trashcan and boo's when doesn't land, Chase calls you a 'loser with no aim' and, huffing at him, you go pick the trash from the floor and put it on the trashcan.
Chase is a funny man, he has a good moral compasser but sometimes he's too blind with his judgments, there's just so much until he's cussing every single villain born till today; you don't think the world is exactly like that.
"But who's the guy? You know him?"
"The bastard is son of a old friend of mine, a good kid but damn he used to whimper." Like always whenever you guys took your break together, meal and drink was always shared. A small camaraderie, like friends that switch who's going to pay dinner this time. "Ha, one day he tried to show me how easily he could do a handstand and actually cried when he fell on his fuckin' ass!"
It felt weird to be such good friends with someone so old, but, really, you could picture Chase being the biggest hunk on his early years, maybe breaking a few hearts there and there while still being a crude, kind soul.
"Poor soul, imagine having to deal with you out of all peoples when you are a kid."
"The fuck does that mean?"
"Good shift, Chase!"
"Come back here you brat!"
"Goodnight, [Name]."
"Goodnight, Galen!"
You always are the last one to clock out, maybe because you usually waited until everybody closed for the day so you could go home with the night breeze and quiet street or perhaps because you wanted to avoid getting home so quickly, who knows?
It also helped to clear your head, the empty office. You liked to work, to place each file on it's place and get everything done the instant you receive your task. You felt important, useful for something greater than you'll ever be. It felt nice.
....and you're also waiting for your fianceé, who told you he was coming thirty minutes ago. You even switched to the red dress Chase picked, makeup and did your hair on the company public bathroom while Coupé stared the shit out of you, leaving after you muttered a unsure 'hi' and leaving the air a bit tense with her.
YOU
Jim?
Are you really coming?
You're late.
And for the next ten minutes he doesn't answer and you're getting tired from standing on the lobby waiting room feeling like a fool.
"Well, hello there, stranger."
You blink towards the voice—low, rough yet gentle, straight from his chest as a small baritone—and see a guy with auburn strands of hair and cute freckles that dusted his cheeks like constellations. He's attractive, like the protagonist of a cheeky novel or a stupid romcom.
(The first time fate wanted to make amends to the two of you.)
"Oh, hello." You nod your head shyly, a small smile on your face as his eyes linger on the lobby waiting room and then at you, he had deep eyebags and a stubble beard. someone clean but also didn't try too hard. "You're the new guy, right? The one Chase kept talking about."
He huffs and the sound is familiar, like the ringing bells of a church. "Knowing him, he only said the bad things. Please don't take them in consideration, that would be really bad for my resume."
Hiding your smile as you quietly laugh at him, there's something serene in the way he quietly stepped on your little world out of nowhere.
"I'm not sure if childhood stories are taken in consideration for those, but I'll keep that in mind." You shift your hands while playing with your phone, expecting something—anything—from the man you had plans with. No calls, no text.
'Maybe he's asleep.'
"Not that I'm judging you or something, but why are you still here? Isn't it too late to work past-time?" The new guy, with his SDN blue shrit with two buttons unbuttoned sits in front of you in the plush and comfy chair of the lobby, velvet cushions making this a little more comfortable. But only a little.
"Oh, It's nothing work related, don't worry! They're not exploiting me or whatever." You pick your nails (that you hadn't the time to take care for a while, now that you thought about it) and light the screen of your phone again, only to be meet with nothing. "I'm just waiting for my fianceé to pick me up, he's a bit late."
There's five seconds of weird staring between the two of you before he breaks the silence, coughing on his fist. "So, uh, what's with the whole Mecha-man thing? He's some friend of yours?"
You blink at him, not understanding his question until you take a quick look at your phone and see the Mecha-man phone case alongside the Mecha-man phone charm.
.....oh, now you feel a little dumb, if the creeping heat on your cheeks are anything to go by.
"Don't make fun of me, it's—okay, it's a bit silly." He snorts but not in a malicious way, more amused than anything and that softens your shoulders and you breath normally. "He's kind of my idol, you know? I think it's the whole being a superhero with no power, it's the kind of mentality you hold yourself onto because, well, it grounds you.
If him, who's just as human as I and still fight to protect people like me—like him—then anything can be possible. I won't need to breath fire or fly to be something great."
Something flicker on his eyes, too many emotions you couldn't decipher at the moment but his lips stayed tight sealed, like he really wanted you to explain yourself over something as silly as a fixation on a superhero.
(Some may say Robert was being a narcissist, seeking the opinion of a cute girl about him without she even knowing him, but he couldn't stop, now.)
"He's admirable and, between us, I actually met him today!"
He seems to perk up at that, a hidden smirk on his lips as he slightly manspreads on the couch in front of you. "Seriously? What did you thought about him?"
With a giddy smile, you suddenly feels like you're twelve on the locker room with your best friend of the time, Janis, as you whispered about boys with cute smiles, as you leaned towards the new guy with doe-like eyes, he does the same. "Okay, between us? He's a total catcher."
He laughs at that. Like, really laughs like it's something funny.
You smile and then snort, quickly hiding it and trying to muffle your giggles.
"Well, hah, I guess I never heard someone calling him that." There's a amused glint on his eyes when he leans back on the couch, something on the way he smiles with his eyes and his face gets slightly red from laughing too much.
"So everyone is blind and dumb." It's abrupt, your mouth working faster than your brain but you don't try to stop it, after all, you're not lying.
It was sweet of him to keep talking with you, engaging topics through the night as you both lost yourself in conversation, going from favorite season to the baddest moment of each Mecha-man, chatting until the janitor, a cute old lady with a mole on her nose, asked kindly for you two to leave the building so she could close it.
"I'm sorry for taking so much of your time, Mr—uh..." Oh, no! Did you forget his name? Did he even told you his name? You're not sure, oh gosh..
"Robert. Robert Robertson."
Footsteps stalls.
"Is this a joke?"
"Nope."
"If this is a joke I'll be so mad with you—what's this name? Did you mother agreed with that?"
"It's tradition, she didn't had much of a choice."
"Oh, no. If Jim suggests something like Jim Jintson for our son I'll be having that baby alone."
"What? Not a fan of cool heritage things?"
"Oh I'm not hearing this from a Robert Robertson."
"...the Third."
"Okay, now you're messing with me."
"Yeah, because I always lie about my name so people can make fun of it. Hi, I'm John."
Giggling, you didn't even notice your phone vibrating on your dress pockets (yes, it had pockets!!) until a black car parks on the parking lot and blares the horn with no thought behind the action.
It's Jim, who's totally not dressed for the occasion and is very much late and didn't show a once of regret.
"So, this is my ride, thank your for keeping my company, Robert, have a lovely night."
And Robert, with his head that was once filled with the pressure of reforming a team of ex-villains and having to rebuild all his life and lifetime project, now feels lightheaded.
And slightly dissappointed, he can't deny. You're funny, likes Chase, is really passionate about Mecha-man and is beautiful—
and married. Proposed. Almost married.
"Goodbye.." He watches as you enter the car, he watches how you didn't even enter and the man on the driver seat is already yelling at you, he watches as said man give him the nastiest glare before driving off.
At least you'll be a good friend, right?
(Ten times fate brought you two together, ten times it worked."