The light from the coffee shop illuminated the sidewalk where I stood. While I drummed my fingers on my side, I tried to look as nonchalant as possible. There were a surprising number of people still out this late at night, and I wasn’t dense enough to ignore the fact that my presence had increased the crowd gathering within the glowing cafe. Not that anyone had the confidence to talk to me directly yet, which I was thankful for.

  I had spent the majority of my first patrol just wandering around, mostly on the rooftops. That was largely the idea, even if it was underwhelming and inefficient. Other than almost crashing through two roofs and missing one landing that would have been embarrassing if anyone had seen… it had been uneventful.

  Leaving me to my thoughts over-

  A dull thud came from down the road, and I turned my head to see Roxy. A minor jump that hadn’t dealt any damage to the point of impact.

  “Evening, Gunquake,” she said with a smile. “Fancy seeing you here.”

  [Indeed. I was hoping we could actually find somewhere with a little more privacy.]

  She stopped in front of me, putting her hands on her hips and grinning at the wide window. The civilians inside did their best to appear as if they weren’t gawking at us. “Oh, not camera shy all of a sudden, I hope?”

  [I went down into the basement today.]

  “Oh.” Her smile wavered, and she turned to face me, her expression frozen. “I could go for a stroll then, to find somewhere quiet.”

  Somewhere still in view of security cameras, I hoped.

  Roxy looped her arm around mine, and we starting walking down the sidewalk. If the mission was to preempt our relationship reveal, then we were sure to get chins wagging by walking lockstep together on such a beautiful night that had zero tension at all. Aside from how stiff the super was walking.

  I had to give her credit - the basement did have gym equipment in it. The situation was more of a lie by omission, rather than straight up mistruth. She occasionally convinced Clara to have a brief workout session down there, so it all seemed reasonable.

  We continued in silence, crossing at a junction, aimlessly wandering for… as long as our mandated break lasted.

  [When were you going to tell me?]

  She exhaled through her nose. “It was always one of those… there was never a good time, right? Then it got to the point of being a running gag, so I hoped to just ignore it.”

  [It’s not exactly ignorable, is it?]

  We stopped our walk by a darkened alleyway, and Roxy let go of my arm to turn and face me. “It can be. It’s not… I was never going to…”

  [You understand the danger, though. For all of us.]

  “Of course.” She sighed again and shook her head. “Want to hash this out over a 'workout' after our patrols are done?”

  I looked around. We weren’t entirely alone, even if we weren’t being hounded by a group of fans. The city had ears and eyes all over the place. Whatever we were going to decide, it could wait until we were in the privacy of our own home.

  [Sure. It might help me work off some stress.]

  Roxy gave me an awkward nod. “Stay safe on the rest of your patrol, Gunquake.”

  I watched as she stepped away, before leaping up into the air. There was one very important question left unasked, which would determine much of our future together, and as heroes. Probably not the date night she had envisioned…

  But then, she shouldn’t have a creepy and problematic basement kept secret from me. I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, considering that I knew she was genuine with me - but the only other time I had seen something like this, it had been in a serial killer's lair.

  Part of me knew it couldn’t be anything too dire, given that I didn’t think Clara would ever go against me. Probably.

  I sighed and shook off my head. Duty called. We’d have the awkward conversation over why she had a large underground bunker full of tables and corkboards covered with hero pictures, patrol routes, known weaknesses, and other trivia later on. It was better to not let my imagination fill in the blanks.

  In keeping with my theme, I slunk into the shadowed alleyway. There were still a few hours of patrol work to do, and hopefully, the boredom wouldn’t kill me. I’d head up to the rooftop and see if I could-

  “Spare any credits?”

  I stopped in place and turned my head to the man wrapped up in rags, sitting up against the alley wall. In fact, before I could respond, I recognized him as the very same person who I had seen before the graveyard fight.

  “Oh, it’s the hesitant hero.” His smile emerged from beneath his beard. “Feeling any closer ties to the title yet?”

  [I’ve come to the conclusion that actions speak louder than words. There’s some peace in being sure I’m doing the right thing, no matter what others believe.]

  He stretched out his legs and wiggled his bare toes. “Ah, a philosopher as well as a freaky robot, are we?”

  [It helps to be flexible. What about you, will spare credits really help?]

  “For the night, perhaps. Not… everyone is a welcome cog in the workings of the city.” His face turned glum, without the usual resentment I’d expect of such a statement.

  [I used to think that about myself too. Everything is subject to change.]

  “Perhaps you could use that change to get me a sandwich, then. If your hands aren’t too full.” He gestured down to the end of the alley where the street was illuminated - where I had just been talking to Roxy.

  [Nothing that will kill me. Stay put and I’ll be back.]

  “You truly are a hero,” he said as I walked away.

  There was a convenience store a short distance further than I had walked with the super, so wouldn’t take me long to get him some supplies. Part of my patrol duty was helping the citizenry, so this felt like a valid use of my time. I would have thought with how much control the League of Heroes had over Goldarch, that things such as homelessness wouldn’t be an issue. Except for extreme circumstances, perhaps.

  Or they just let things fester to keep the heroes and police busy.

  The sliding door let off a small beep as I entered. Not a shop I had been in before, so it took me a moment to determine what was down each aisle. Although I had plenty of eyes on me from the few customers out this late, it was certainly a different kind of stare than from before I was a known hero.

  Something about a cyborg dressed to the nines in tactical gear and having a gun-arm usually put shop owners on high alert. When I had awkwardly gathered the sought after items in my arms, I went and placed them on the counter.

  “Gunquake,” the short man greeted me, a sparkle in his eyes. He was all smiles as he brought the first item to scan. “Looks like you’re about to go on a stakeout.”

  I raised an eyebrow and looked at the two full meals and the reusable heated blanket.

  [Just helping someone fill their stomach and sleep well tonight.]

  “Charity work?” He clicked his tongue. “My wife thinks you look like a mean old bastard, but I told her a man like that definitely has more demons to fight off than most, if only to protect a heart of gold.”

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  [Perhaps you’re both a little correct.]

  He chuckled and finished packing up the last of my goods, taking it as some lighthearted banter. I swiped away the credits and left with a nod of thanks. That went well. The League had sent me plenty of material on how to interact with the public, but I skipped it and figured I’d just be myself. Or at least the side of me who didn’t want to murder everything in my way.

  I walked back down the street and into the alley, stopping at the place I had previously been standing. The man was gone.

  My eyes swept down into the darkness, but I couldn’t spot him. Nightvision clicked on in my goggles, but I was still alone down here. I sighed and placed the bag down where he had been sitting. Either he’d come back or someone else would hopefully find and make use of it all.

  I raised my left arm and fired out my grapple; the line pulling me up to the closest rooftop. There was still plenty of time to burn before going home and accosting Roxy over her display of detailed stats. While I didn’t linger around in the basement long enough to peruse all of her gathered data, I did pause by the wall-mounted board that had the Natural Disasters pinned.

  She had drawn a heart around the picture of me, which normally would be a rather endearing find… but in the context of the room as a whole, I wanted to make sure she wasn’t planning on eating my skin or anything weirder.

  Yet still, the sharp end of the pointed question prickled at my mind once more.

  Was she part of the World Government?

  It seemed unlikely at best, but the thought lingered. It was the perfect double agent set up, and the Gov would love to have such extensive information on all the active heroes here. But so would any villain or other force intending on causing trouble in Goldarch.

  I’d just have to let my imagination work up worse scenarios for the next few hours.

  I paused at the edge of the next roof, already four streets away from where I saw the homeless man. A bright blue line sped down the road from further down, sliding to a stop below me.

  [Captain Snaps, to what do I owe the pleasure?]

  The speedster gave me a quick salute, grinning up at me from the ground below. “My patrol just started, and I overlap your area a little. Wanted to check up on my teammate.”

  I shrugged and jumped from the roof, landing in a crouch as my legs burst out the V-Force energy necessary to keep me safe.

  Roy whistled. “Impressive. You seem to get more powerful every time you get back up from being knocked down. I do know your one weakness, however…”

  After righting myself, I dusted down my trenchcoat.

  [Which is?]

  “Checking your calendar. I sent you an invitation to patrol together for an hour earlier today.” He gestured to the empty street. “Of course, if you prefer the brooding loner bit…”

  [No, I’d appreciate the company, actually. It might prevent me from getting in trouble.]

  There wasn’t much chance of that, to be honest. We both knew this. Now that things were slowly getting more settled, however, it was nice to actually spend time with my group members when outside of missions. The parties were great, but I usually took a back seat in those and let the louder ones talk.

  So, for the next hour, we walked and talked. He showed me around some of the sketchier parts of the patrol area that I should be mindful of and filled my head with plenty of tricks and tips he had picked up over the years. For the most part, they weren’t that useful - but I appreciated the effort all the same.

  We even went over some of his past experience in the military. It was something we had a common connection over, to some degree. I wondered if he reminded me of anyone from my past, which would explain why I had trusted him to save me when I had prostrated myself in that underground pit fight. Or I was just crazy, it was hard to tell some days.

  The time went by quickly, our conversation actually overrunning our allotted patrol-together plan. Not that it really mattered for the speedster, as he was able to align with his assigned route with running for a couple of seconds.

  I had one last area to get through before my job was done. Apparently, I’d even get paid for this, which seemed like a waste. I hadn’t shed any blood or made any arrests. Had even failed to help someone in need, although that wasn’t for the lack of trying.

  Grapple zipped me up to the rooftops once more. The improved version was impressive, with the techie able to reduce the size of the Foam tips it required and added a self-reloading system with enough ammo to last hours of use. Additionally, the custom boots basically had no sole, allowing my feet to vent energy without destroying the footwear.

  I was really coming into my own.

  //Clara: What did you do to make Rockslide so nervous?

  //Clara: She hasn’t stopped pacing since getting home, Gunquake.

  //Dubs: I went into the basement.

  //Clara: Oh.

  The fact that she didn’t say anything after that didn’t fill me with much confidence. Then again, that might be her intention. If the defense tech turrets shredded me on approach, then I’d know my paranoia had some merit.

  I sighed and checked the time. A well-earned retreat to the Meteor and my patrol would be over. Something that happened without issue. I had made it through my first patrol without losing limbs or stumbling into violence. Stacy hadn’t checked back about my meeting with Kingston, which was annoying.

  Back door of the vehicle closed, and I sat in the driver's seat. Clara hadn’t offered to drive me home and was either focused on my new arm or preparing my demise. I drove home, loading a Sanguine stake into the chamber. Always be prepared.

  Something that would be amusing in retrospect, as I was likely to go along with whatever the super wanted. I loved her and was only a short push away from falling into my old ways. Between us, our strengths were nigh unparallel.

  Even knowing that, I felt tense as I eventually pulled up beside the warehouse. Turrets allowed it.

  Stepping out of the back, I was unsurprised to see the super waiting for me in the garden. Still in her hero outfit. Concern clear on her face, and arms crossed. I could shoot her now, before she had a chance to react.

  I took a few steps and stopped. Warlock emerged from the grass and scampered across the dirt toward me, eyes looking at me as he mewed. We shouldn’t fight in front of him. I kneeled down and scooped the cat up into my arm.

  [Honey, I’m home.]

  Whatever wall Roxy had been trying to maintain crumbled in an instant, and she deflated. Rubbed at her head as she sighed. “Gods damn it, Dubs. What a dumb fucking mess. C’mon, follow me.”

  There was no need to guess where she was about to lead me, and I followed on. Warlock seemed content enough in my grip, which helped to keep me calm. In silence, we both went into the house and over to the basement door. Down the stairs, and into the gym.

  “So… there are some things I’ll need to explain.” She crossed her arms again and pulled a face at the walls filled with printouts, photos, and news clippings.

  [You realize that you gave me shit about my kill house, yet you had cultivated this serial killer's wet dream?]

  Roxy rolled her eyes. “Yes. Fuck, Dubs. I appreciate how you’re trying to diffuse the situation, but please hear me out.”

  I gestured for her to continue, which was just me gently waving the now sleeping cat at her. Seemed better than raising my gun-arm while things were so tense.

  “So, uh, you’re probably wondering first off if I was planning on using all this information to kill supers. I was not.” Her eyes went along the walls. “It certainly could be, and one of the reasons I’ve kept it secret as this trove of shit could be very useful to the wrong people.”

  [Who would the wrong people be?]

  She bit her tongue. “Well… anyone who isn’t me.”

  [So you’re not the World Government mole?]

  “Fuck no.” Roxy shook her head. “I can see why you might get that impression, nor did I build this database to find the mole… although it might be useful for that as well.”

  I tilted my head and raised an eyebrow. That ruled out the worst and best answers, in my opinion.

  “The mission to get you in the League’s pocket was meant to be my last redemption after being a fuckup for so long. I was… angry at them all and started this as soon as I moved here. I wanted to meta game the ranking bullshit. Build something I could work from.” She pointed at one of the tables where an odd map was laid out. “But there were so many other things that I had planned, it became too much to handle.”

  [You considered turning villain.]

  She froze in place, only her eyes moved to meet mine. “I won’t lie. Yeah, at one point. I was sure I’d fuck up recruiting you, so there were only a few options left at that point. Kiss every ass in the League, or go rogue.”

  [Instead, you chose the third option of falling in love.]

  I nodded toward the picture of me on the board of Natural Disasters.

  “You’re impossible,” she said with a sigh. “Sure, you kinda fucked several of my plans to the point where I didn’t really need this at all.”

  [Hell, this is perfect. Now we can easily kill off the groups ranked higher than us.]

  “That is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you about it.” Roxy scowled at me. “Even joking about it is beyond the pale now. We’re settled and accepted.”

  [But if the League ever fucks us over or tries to serve us up to the World Gov…]

  “They’d regret it.” She sighed again. “The ones that survived would, anyway.”

  It was an impressive amount of work she had put together. While it wasn’t one-hundred percent filled out with every single hero and their strengths and weaknesses, it gave a lot more information than the database that Clara had stolen.

  I stepped across the room slowly, eyeing up the pictures and names. The team I had seen at the League HQ the other day was here. Reminded me of wanted posters. Each picture with attached stats a kill contract that paid nothing, yet was so tempting. I stopped by the heart-encircled picture of me. An old one, from before I had a super suit.

  [It says here that you consider me ‘weak as shit’. Then it says ‘huge potential’… and then ‘also, huge-]

  “Alright, Dubs,” she snapped. “It’s rude to read someone’s diary, you know. I’m sorry I’ve kept this as a secret from you for so long… and been so cagey about explaining it. You probably thought the worst…”

  [I understand it. This was something close to you, even though it was created during a dark time. One last secret to use in an emergency, when all else fails. Most people have armor or technology to protect them. Maybe a last-ditch skill or weapon. For a woman with immense strength and high damage resistance, the way you keep yourself feeling safe is this paranoid over-planning.]

  Roxy stood in place for a few seconds, absorbing what I had said. “You’re… a motherfucker, Dubs. Seriously, fuck you.” She stepped forward and put her arms around me, being careful not to squish the cat. “I should have known you’d understand.”

  It was more than just understanding. It was acceptance. While there might have been a nefarious reason for building the serial killer info-dump room at points, it was her own coping mechanism for whenever she felt powerless in life. Much less violent than my own.

  But now we could use this for our advantage, if she let me. Two heads were better than one, and maybe we could use this to get a step up over the competition. Maybe even search for the mole.

  While we continued to hug, my eyes went up to the wall opposite.

  Amongst several pictures of solo heroes I had never seen was one of Roxy’s ex.

  As well as his full name, powers, and his weaknesses.