Nightingale

“Entrapment, huh,” Nightingale noted, watching Diamond. The conversation she kept with the vandals was mostly mundane things, but she was definitely circling around anti-powered sentiments.

“Always been her forte,” Stranger said.

“Is that how she was popular in high school?”

“Is that an accusation?”

“Maybe.”

What of, Nightingale wasn’t sure, but it was definitely something.

“Diamond’s got a lot of problems, but she was popular in high school because she was likable,” Stranger insisted before muttering under his breath, “And she made the quarterback dream about her.”

“You had a football team?” Nightingale asked, “In a Haven town?”

Stranger leaned away.

“Where did you get that idea?”

“The quarterback comment, I heard you,” she pointed to her ears, “Sensitive.”

“So like all around sensitive?” Stranger asked.

“Yep.”

“Are you ticklish?”

She shook her head.

“Shame.”

She didn’t need to read his mind to have an idea of what was going through his head.

“You know actively thinking about that sort of thing around a telepath can be considered sexual harassment.”

“Only if you can prove it, Songbird,” he countered, “Far as you and my sister are concerned, my mind’s clean as a whistle.”

“Full of spittle?”

“If I don’t push it, you don’t see anything. The women in my family are both telepaths, you didn’t see shit.”

“Your implications are vivid enough.”

He sighed, with some genuine remorse in his tone.

“I don’t have much of a filter,” he admitted, “Not when talking at least. It’s shitty, and I’m sorry I don’t have a better way to save my impulse control for telekinesis. It’s the best strategy my mom and I could come up with at the time.”

The impulse to be cruel continued.

“The same mother whose mind you learned to block from yours, around puberty I’d guess,” she stated more than asked.

His jaw went slack.

“Shit. There’s no fucking—”

“I probably wouldn’t want to look in your head if I were in her shoes—I don’t particularly want to now—but I might want to know what’s going on.”

“Why would you ruin a perfectly fucked up mother-son relationship like that?”

“Maybe I’m just resentful being an orphan.”

He laughed.

“Sorry, again. Obviously I think you’re very interesting.” He twirled his hand in her direction.

“Interesting, right.”

“I don’t feel like I’ve been very pushy, but you’d probably be a better judge of that on the other side of things. I can shut up, though.”

It was a passable apology. The kind of apology you make when you’re not fully sure what to apologize for, but still convincing.

“What was that comment about not doing anything halfway?” she asked, “When you dropped me off.”

He shook his head.

“I don’t fucking know. I wanted to sound cool, and then I said that and immediately wanted to get as far away from you as possible.”

“I assumed it was some sort of innuendo—”

“It might have been that, might have been some honorable nonsense, but mostly it was just confusing.”

At least he came by it honestly. She didn’t dislike him if she was being honest. She wasn’t interested in something romantic, or something passionate, but she could use a friend.

“Would you accept payment for the tour in lasagna?” she asked.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“After accurately accusing me of harassment?”

“I believe in second chances, and you don’t seem too hard to ward off should the occasion call for it.”

“That sounds emasculating, but I think it’s a good thing in this context.”

She gave a comforting smile and little else.

“We’ll meet at Ben’s, end at my place.”

“You know where Ben lives?”

“I meant—”

Discussion later, Diamond ordered, Divide and conquer, Mason’s an easy mark.

“Hey, Carter.” Nightingale jumped onto the roof of the van, sure to stand up straight so she could look down on him. He was the taller one from before, the one that tried to break her arm so his friend could break her skull.

“Are powered girls just prettier because of a defense mechanism,” he asked, gesturing at her mask, “Or are you keeping everything a mystery because no one would want you otherwise?”

“All the bigotry in the world and you settle for misogyny?” Nightingale asked, “I expected the anti-superhuman comments, but is that really necessary?”

He tried to swing at her, but she just stepped further back, taking full advantage of the high ground.

“Come down here and give me a fair fight,” he insisted.

“I don’t believe in a fair fight, I was taught better.”

He grit his teeth and ran to the driver’s seat. Though the car started, it didn’t move. He kept it running as he stepped out again to stare at her incredulously.

“What are you doing?”

“I think the answer to that’s very obvious.”

He stepped away, then he started running. Now she jumped down.

He turned quickly, swinging his bat like before. She countered with her skirt, which had enough weight to knock the weapon out of his hands as it flared out.

“Diamond’s not gonna believe that worked!” Stranger announced from behind Carter. Carter reached for the club but it flew into Stranger’s hands.

“You can surrender now,” Nightingale offered, “Or you can fight two superhumans unarmed.”

She grabbed him the moment he ran, using a bit of telekinesis in her hold to make sure he stayed.

“Got any rope?” she asked.

“Would’ve been smart,” Stranger admitted, “You mentioned the skirt was removable, right?”

“I’m keeping it on.”

He put his hands up in a surrendering motion.

“What about you?” he asked Carter.

Carter spat.

“I’ll check the car, then.” Stranger said.

“No!” Carter yelled.

“You’re a little past hiding the evidence, aren’t you, buddy?”

“You want evidence?” Carter asked, “This was all Mason’s idea. I’ll report him. We aren’t even associated with the Peacekeepers.”

“You aren’t cool enough for the hate organization?” Stranger asked.

Carter scowled.

“What was Mason’s idea?” Nightingale asked.

Carter didn’t answer, but his memories of Mason were worse than some graffiti and broken windows.

“I’ll keep him here,” Stranger assured, “Go.”

Diamond watched Mason carefully. His anti-powered stripes were more obvious, which should make it easier for him to say it aloud. She was sure her illusion of looking worth helping was working, but he still seemed cautious around her.

“I notice things,” he said, suddenly, “Smarter than I look.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Diamond returned, now was the time to trap him, “Like I almost thought you were breaking into the church when I first saw you, almost didn’t ask, but I really needed the help. Luckily my gamble paid off.” She tugged a little at his shirt. Flirting would make him more honest with her, hopefully.

He took a long whiff, getting close to her hair. She leaned away, even if she was pretending to be on the same saide, that was just creepy.

“You don’t smell human,” he assessed.

Mason was a damn traitor, because no normie would be able to guess that from scent alone. After adjusting her disgust, she realized this was an opportunity.

“Not the worst insult I’ve had on my perfume,” she commented, “How would you even smell for if someone’s normal or not?”

“Humans smell normal, freaks smell fake.”

“God forbid someone wear cologne or perfume,” she countered, “More importantly, how do you smell for that? Because I don’t know any human who can.”

Mason took a few steps back.

“Does Carter know about your gift?” Diamond asked. She clicked on her recorder: if he was going to confess, he’d do it now.

“I don’t need to listen to a freak,” he said.

“Is that why Carter’s in charge?” she asked, “Because you can’t listen to a freak like yourself.”

There was no rush like pushing someones buttons, unsure if you were going to press the one that would kill you.

“Is this self-loathing?” she pushed further, “Or some sort of twisted attempt at self-preservation, making yourself out to be one of the good ones?”

“I’m no freak.”

“Then how come you can smell them?” she continued, “The bloodhound is a closer relative to the fox than to the hunter.”

“I’m no dog,” Mason insisted, “Like we said before, we’re pest control.”

“What pests?”

“The monsters that take over whole towns. You expect us to respect you, but you insist on special treatment. You’re loaded guns without a license, and we’re here to stop you.”

“What makes you think you can do that?”

“Cause you’re all cowards who don’t do shit when we break your windows. You just try to ignore us, because you feel too safe to fight.”

She held her tongue from explaining the current situation, which disproved his point. Even if she had her proof, she wanted him to understand his actions.

“And what does that make you, attacking your own kind so you can feel stronger, pretend you’re one of the big dogs? There’s a name for the type of person that can smell a superhuman, we call you sensitives. It’s easy to hate the rest of us when your powers are useless, I guess.”

He grabbed her hair. She should have hidden it in the illusion.

“You talk too much, freak.”

He threw her to the ground, but she scrambled away before he could kick her. She stood up to see a fist coming her way.

Nightingale was barely in time to take a hit for Diamond. He punched hard.

“Run.” she ordered, not looking back as she locked eyes with Mason.

The rage in this man made her feel sick.

“I’ll—”

She had no time to taunt, no care to pace herself, and no need to hold back. Mason’s hands were locked behind him in less than a second, and Mandie had her hand around his throat.

Sleep, she ordered him, and he listened, slumped to the ground as she let go.

Diamond’s eyes turned all red as she came close.

“Checking my work?” Nightingale asked.

“Can’t be too careful,” Diamond answered, flicking Mason in the head. “Thanks for saving my ass.”

“You can thank Carter being such a coward without us even needing to mention jail time.”

“I just might at some point.”

They burst into laughter for no good reason, stopping just as abruptly.

“I should check on my brother,” Diamond said.

“I’ll stay here.”

Mandie was loitering around Ben’s gym, waiting for her date as she regretted accepting his offer.

She assured herself Stranger wouldn’t get the wrong idea, and besides, she wanted to show Ben something.

“What are you doing out here?” Ben asked as he exited his building, “If it’s to let me know what happened, Diamond already told me.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” Mandie assured. She took a glance around. Stranger still seemed to be nowhere in sight. “Can I show you something?”

“Be my guest.”

She pulled out a small swatch of her remaining fabric.

“Okay…”

“Feel it,” she ordered.

He took the swatch, gliding his fingers over it, “Soft.”

“It’s a special type of silk. Only telekinetics can weave this many threads at a time. Even normal silk is hard to cut through, so imagine the benefits of this.”

“This sounds like a business proposal.”

“You want your people safe,” Mandie noted, “I can help with that.”

“I can’t afford it,” Ben said, handing her back the swatch, “If the fabric’s as rare as you say, it’s well out of my budget.”

“I didn’t say I was doing this to make a profit.”

“Then why do you want to do it?”

“Practice,” Mandie said, “I like making things, and you and your employees offer a nice direction.”

He felt the swatch again.

“Tell no one.”

“What?”

“You can tell people you’re making the costumes, yes, but the material and effort stays behind closed doors.”

Mandie nodded.

“What do you want in exchange?” Ben asked.

“Free gym membership and lifetime seats to the fights?”

Ben scrutinized her.

“There’s gotta be a catch.”

Mandie squirmed.

“You’re going to do that vigilante shit again, aren’t you?” he guessed.

She looked away. It was part of why she agreed to Stranger’s offer for a tour. She could fight, and she wanted to help people. It was a direction for her skills.

“If Nightingale isn’t the only one using the material, it will be harder to trace her to me.”

“Except you’re the only person who has the material in town.”

“Yes,” Mandie acknowledged, “But the material traces back to me, and I can just say she made me do it.”

“You’re also tracing it back to me, and my people.”

“Maybe,” Mandie admitted, “But it’s not even going to be that obvious it’s the same material. I mostly want the option to see the wear and tear different powers would have on the fabric and how to make it work in those scenarios.”

Ben wasn’t excited.

“Please,” Mandie said, “We could do great things together.”

“Am I interrupting something?” Stranger asked from behind Mandie, “Don’t turn around,” he told her, “Not as fun without some secrets.”

Mandie grabbed the mask from another pocket, then turned around.

“Glad to see you came prepared.”

“We’ll talk later,” Ben said, “Enjoy this weirdo. You’re perfect for each other.”

Mandie rolled her eyes.

“So were the pants that first night a fluke?” Stranger asked, gesturing at her sundress, “Or did you dress up for me.”

“I prefer something like this in my day to day,” Mandie admitted.

“Then I’ll be on my best behavior,” Stranger promised.

Moses took Nightingale everywhere he could remember hiding as a kid. He’d even asked Ben and Elliot for advice. He had it down like a lecture circuit: Take her to the place, explain what he used it for and who was usually around, chat a bit, next place.

The conversation was superficial but pleasant: Food they liked, comments on the crowds or how cold the night was (Nightingale did not want his jacket), discussion, which Moses started, about his sister being a bitch.

“You really did grow up here, didn’t you?” Nightingale noted as he set her down on her apartment balcony.

“Me, Ben, and Elliot,” he said, “Then plans took us separate ways.”

“And now?” she asked.

“And now the plan is different.”

“Think you’ll stay in town?”

Was that interest? Why would she care if he stayed in town if she had no interest in him? It didn’t seem like they were still having an inane conversation, but…

Fuck it, there was an easy way to test it.

“If there’s something worth staying for.” he leaned in, and she didn’t stop him, like she definitely could, but she didn’t lean in herself.

He stopped himself. He didn’t want neutrality. Besides, he saw how she talked to Ben.

“I was promised food,” he said.

The door to the apartment unlocked and opened without her having to touch it. He should learn that trick.

“Coming right up,” she said.

He watched her go straight for the counter, grabbing a casserole dish and putting it in the oven.

The lasagna would taste delicious if the rice-balls the other night were any sign, but the more he thought about going in there, the more he thought about her conversation with Ben, and every compliment Ben gave her. Moses would have to leave town when he and Eliz got an actual job, and Eliz hated town too.

That settled it. He’d helped her enough to make up for being annoying. The date was over. He set the map he’d made inside the door, and closed it.

He jumped off the balcony before she could turn around, keeping to the shadows but walking away.

I thought you wanted food, she said, alongside a memory that wasn’t his own about how good the lasagna tasted.

He stayed quiet, not letting his mind respond. It would be better for everyone this way.