Nemesis [Worm AU]

[BeaconHill]

Nemesis
Chapter 1: "No Way Out"​

[ Emma ]

"So," I said, smiling at the pile of forms and pamphlets on the table before me, "I really like the sound of this Nemesis program. I just have one question – can I pick the Nemesis? Instead of just you giving me one."

"Good choice," Cauldron's doctor said. She was a stern woman with pitch-black skin and very closely trimmed hair, curly and graying. Between that and her stark white lab coat, she looked very austere. Businesslike, in a scientist way. Which was okay, because I was here for business. But it made me unsure what to wear. I'd wanted to impress her, but now I just felt overdressed. Maybe I'd do casual next time. "The Nemesis program is likely the best option you can purchase alongside your powers, a perfectly orchestrated start to your new career as a superhero. And, yes, we can tailor the specifics of your Nemesis and their powers and crimes to the image you'd like to present. Did you have anything in mind, or—"

"Thanks, but that's not what I meant," I said. "Can I pick someone specific as my Nemesis? Someone I know. Sorry if that's hard, it's just... there's one girl I'd love to crush under my boot on my road to heroism."

"Oh?" One eyebrow lifted ever so slightly. Considering how stonefaced the doctor was normally, I had to assume this would be the equivalent of shock and horror on anybody else. "That would be an... unusual arrangement, Cleopatra." It took me a second to recognize the name as mine – my pseudonym, since Cauldron didn't like to deal in real names. "I've never done that before, or even had it requested. I don't think that would be possible – the safety protocols for the Nemesis program are extensive, including implanted vulnerabilities and command words along with very precise information on your Nemesis's power and behavior. We wouldn't be willing to prepare a civilian to that extent."

"Okay, but what if we don't do all the fancy Nemesis protocol stuff?" I asked. "What if I just slip a cheap vial in her food and then beat her up?"

"We do not assist in surreptitious dosing," the doctor said. "It has gone wrong far too many times to be worth the risk. And, unfortunately, it would be far, far out of your price range to purchase a vial to administer yourself, even if it weren't dangerous and foolish. Besides, there's no way to ensure she cooperates if she doesn't knowingly take the dose. She may well become a hero herself, leaving you with no opportunity to fight her." Her expression was very severe, almost angry, but it softened as she considered the point. "But there is a program where you could pick a specific person to receive a Cauldron vial. It's called sponsorship, and it's generally used for friends and family, but I suppose we could add a Nemesis program rider..."

"Okay!" I said, clapping my hands together. "Let's get it done! How much is it going to cost—"

"Hang on a second," the doctor said. "We still have a lot to discuss. First is that the sponsorship program is entirely voluntary on the part of the candidate, and that we wouldn't be willing to lie or conceal information. How sure are you that she'd be interested? That she'd accept? Especially considering how alarming the Nemesis program stipulations would naturally be."

"She's a cape geek," I said. "She'd say yes. Actually, I bet she tried to find you already. Her name's Taylor Hebert," I said. "H-E-B-E-R-T. My age, my city."

The doctor swiveled her computer monitor back toward her, then typed the name in. After a few seconds, she frowned at the screen. "Well, you were right about that," she said. "She does indeed have a record of interest. I think this would be a relatively easy sell."

"Told you! Go ahead, contact her. Oh, and how much is it going to cost me?"

"Hold on a second," the doctor said. "I'm still not certain this is wise. Your desired Nemesis will have the freedom to accept or reject the sponsorship, which means the conditions can't be too lopsided: she needs at least the chance to win, and a means of escape if she loses. We simply won't be able to do most of the things the Nemesis program normally does to ensure safety – no implanted commands, no taking dives, nothing like that. You'd have to accept a very high risk of an upset. Of her beating you. We wouldn't be able to offer any upset refund, certainly."

I snorted. "She's not gonna beat me. But can't you just give her a crappy power to make sure?"

"That means you get less of a reputation boost from defeating her," the doctor said, "and a higher chance that you won't be the first. The Nemesis program is at its best when the Nemesis is a genuinely fearsome rival. Are you sure—"

"Then give her something where she's not horrible, but she is weak to me! Or something gruesome, where people hate her even though she's not powerful!" I sighed. "Look, you're the one with all the powers, can't you show me something?"

She typed into her keyboard again. "I'll run the search," she said. "Samples whose sponsorship price would be within your budget for options, with the distasteful flag set. We'll filter out samples with high variability – the less consistent the sample, the more likely she is to get a power too strong for you, or that you can't counter easily." She swiveled her screen around on its stalk, pointing it toward me. "Here."

"Thanks." I started to scroll through the touchscreen list. It was nifty – Cauldron had really nice computers. But I didn't know what I was looking for, really, so I just browsed for a while, like I had when I picked my own – and then one power jumped out at me, and I stopped dead.

I tapped the button and read the description, then flicked through the power drawings. And then I turned to the doctor.

"I want this one!" I said with a smirk. "Fitting, for a worm like her."

~~

[ Taylor ]

I ground my teeth together and screamed, a sound of raw anguish muffled by clenched teeth. They'd gotten me. Again.

Emma and Sophia had been coming up with the most inventive ways of tormenting me lately – seemed like they'd finally gotten bored of the old standbys, like reminding me of my mother or how Emma totally used to be my friend. Probably because I didn't respond to that any longer. I'd built myself a suit of armor, and their jibes just didn't make it through any longer.

This was probably their best attempt yet. Because I did want powers, had trawled the darker recesses of the web looking for conspiracy theories. Ways to get them. But, ultimately, that was all I found. Conspiracy theories. And so I gave it up. But this message was an offer of superpowers like something right out of those blogs I used to read, from the name they gave – Cauldron – to the language, the tone, the atmosphere. One of them must have really studied up to write this thing. And so I'd let myself hope, even if it was tiny, even if it was fleeting, even if it only lasted a second.

I'd work harder next time. I'd block it out. I'd block everything out.

Pity it wasn't going to help me any.

My grades were horrible, partly because of their incessant sabotage, partly because I skipped school, and partly because in my world of dulled emotions and blunted thoughts I just couldn't find the energy to work like I'd used to. It didn't hurt any longer, but it didn't feel better either.

The worst part was, there was no way out. I'd looked. I'd tried. But I couldn't change schools – Arcadia wouldn't accept me with my grades, and the private schools all cost money I didn't have. I couldn't move, because Dad was born in this town and seemed determined to die in it too. If I had powers, I could have gone to the PRT, gotten out that way. Maybe even to the supervillains – I just couldn't bring myself to care about heroes and villains the way I used to. But I didn't have powers, and if I hadn't triggered after two years of bullying, I figured I never would. When I was younger and more hopeful, maybe I could have tested up a grade, or gotten a GED to escape high school altogether. But I just didn't think I could manage any longer.

There was only a shred of stubbornness left, keeping me from dropping out of school. I clung to that. The one and only sign of life in this old corpse. Hopefully it'd last the whole summer.

But this... this stupid trick, these damn cape dreams, weren't something I wanted to cling to. I clicked the delete button on the email and slumped back down into my computer chair, defeated.

Then I heard a voice from behind me. "You sure you're not interested?" said a woman, voice low and oddly maternal. I felt a blast of air against me, hot and humid, as I stood up, spinning around, knocking the old desk chair over. But there wasn't an intruder behind me, or an impostor.

No, what stood behind me was a portal, stretching through the whole den, looking out onto a city skyline with the Capitol Building big and bold and dramatic in the background. I stepped through almost unconsciously, stepping out onto a hot rooftop and staring into the distance, feeling the much harsher summer of Washington DC blast over me.

"Who are you?" I breathed, words meant as harsh interrogation coming out with wonder and awe. "What are you doing here?"

"You didn't read the eMail?" said the voice. "We have an offer for you. Whenever you've convinced yourself that this is real, come back through the portal." I turned around. Instead of leading back to my den, the portal now led to a stark white corridor, white tiled walls and floor, a uniform white glow coming from the white ceiling.

Standing there, leaning against the wall, was a black woman in a lab coat, smiling gently at me. She raised a hand and waved with a gentle smile. I smiled back, but I wasn't ready to go just yet.

Instead, I kneeled down. This building's roof was covered in white stones. I picked one up, weighing it in my hand, turning it over and over. I stood back up again, walking to the edge of the roof. I could see people down there – it was a busy street. I hefted the rock, then chucked it, hitting a businessman right in the back. He squawked, turning around and looking frantically for whoever hit him. But he didn't look up, and I giggled bleakly.

"Convinced?" she asked.

"Well, if it's not real, the other option's a psychotic break," I said. "So I'm just going to believe it and see what happens."

"Fair enough," she said. "Follow me, and we'll discuss your offer."

I trailed meekly behind her as the portal closed behind us and I wondered just what the hell I'd gotten myself into.

~~~~~~

Thanks to tearlessNevermore for being willing to chat about the story in the middle of the night. I wanted to release this fast, so I didn't want to beta or anything like that, but I do always prefer to chat about a chapter before posting when I can.

 

[BeaconHill]

Nemesis
Chapter 2: "Cleopatra and Miriam"​

[ Taylor ]

"Okay," I said, leaning back in the chair. God, Cauldron had comfy chairs. I wanted one. "We're agreed: I'll keep your secrets. So, what secrets am I going to have to keep?"

"One thing first," the doctor said. "Why do you want to have powers?"

I laughed weakly. "So I guess you don't have a dossier on me, then? The conspiracy theorist part of me is disappointed."

"Oh, we find people's own reasoning much more insightful than a dossier," the doctor said, a slight smile on her face. "Go ahead. Tell me."

"I, uh, well..." I looked away, grunted a bit. This wasn't going to be easy. "I guess you could say that I have no way out. There's these girls, and they hate me, they're doing everything they can to turn school into hell. My grades have tanked. They're pretty, popular, Emma's rich and beautiful and Sophia's a star athlete. I'm not. I haven't had one friend in ages. Can't change schools. Can't move. Can't get help. Can't do anything!"

I banged my hands on the table, and then looked up, worried. The doctor didn't react at all, which was nice, but... I didn't want to get mad. Didn't need to. There wasn't much point, after all, when I was helpless.

"But powers... they would change things." I looked back up to the doctor, a slight smile on my face again. "I could escape. Wards would get me out of school. Villains would let me pay for private school. Or I could just drop out. Don't need an education to be a full-time cape. I could get revenge. Or I could skip town."

I finally looked back up to the doctor, my smile almost painfully wide.

"I'd have a choice again."

"So it's hope you're looking for," the doctor said. Her voice was quiet and soft, and I couldn't tell what she was thinking.

"It might, in the future, give me hope," I corrected. "Right now I'm still pretty much waiting for the other shoe to drop. Got any of those, by the way?" I leaned back in my chair. "Maybe it's going to be a money thing. I can get powers, except I've got no chance of ever affording them. Just like anything else I could do."

"That, at least, won't be a problem," the doctor said, a faint smugness in her voice. "You're correct that you normally wouldn't be able to afford our services. If not for that, we would have contacted you months ago. However, a sponsor has expressed interest in granting you powers, and will cover the full cost."

"A sponsor?" My eyes widened – then narrowed again with suspicion. "Because I just have loads of friends lining up to spend that much money on me. Surely they'd want me to know their name, right?"

"Actually, they requested to be anonymous." I sighed, shook my head. Damn it! "This isn't always a bad sign. Friends or family request anonymity quite frequently. But your apprehension is entirely understandable. Know that even if you can't trust your sponsor, you can trust us. We won't lie to you. And we will give you powers."

"Because the walking conspiracy theory is oh-so-trustworthy?" I said, my voice starting to crack with bitterness. "Especially if one of my enemies is paying you?"

"Look. Miriam." It took me a few seconds to recognize the code name as my own. "I won't insult your intelligence by claiming that we have never been involved in intrigue. We have. Of course we have. But we won't lie to you, and though we can't be forthcoming about all topics, we will tell you when we can't answer something fully." She smiled wryly. "If you'll believe nothing else, at least believe that if we want to do something against your will, we have better ways than trickery."

"That's true, I guess." I looked off to the wall. White tile, just the same as everywhere else I'd been in this facility. It was honestly kind of eerie. "It was Emma, wasn't it? Who paid you? Her family all died a few weeks ago. Bad car crash on Route 3. I..." Not hoped. "I wondered if it might bring her to her senses. Instead she's doing this. Crazier than ever, I guess." I sighed. "She must have inherited hundreds of thousands of dollars. Maybe millions. Her dad was rich. No wonder she can afford all this."

"I couldn't say," the doctor said quietly.

"Figured. So, what's the catch? There has to be one."

"Your sponsor requested two unusual clauses in your contract. One is simply that they preselected which sample you will receive, so you won't be able to choose your own power. The other is is that you'll be enrolled as a provider in something called the Nemesis program."

"I... see," I said, my face falling a little. "What power would I get?"

She tapped a few keys, then turned her computer monitor on its stalk, pointing it toward me. "Here's our description," she said. "You can touch the screen to scroll or view pictures."

"Thank you," I murmured. Then I started to read.

Sample C-6185, it said. INSECT.

That was when my heart started to sink.

The power was to turn into giant insects. I scrolled down, gaped at the examples. A woman with a giant ant head, an enormous beetle with gaping jaws, a gigantic moth flying over a city street. All of them were sketches – I guess they didn't want to out whichever capes actually took this vial – but, still, they weren't pretty.

"Oh my god," I breathed. "She really is just fucking with me, isn't she?"

"It's not actually a terrible power, whatever you might think of the appearance," the doctor said. "All subjects have been able to transform either into any insect, into any size, or to only partially transform. Many are able to do more than one. The best result thus far was rated Changer 4, Brute 3, Mover 2, able to turn into giant versions of both flying insects and exceedingly strong ones. It's also a very safe sample. It hasn't yet caused any physical changes, let alone more serious adverse reactions."

"Physical... changes?" I asked.

"Samples sometimes cause changes in appearance," the doctor said. "You've seen capes with animalistic or monstrous features. Like that."

"Oh. Okay. I guess that's good, at least." I shook my head, frowning at the screen. "She wants to turn me into a fucking bug. Figures."

"It's still a way out for you, isn't it?" the doctor asked.

"Maybe." I looked back toward her angrily. "What's the Nemesis program?"

"It's one of our programs for aspiring superheroes," the doctor said. "Under normal circumstances, it's quite benign. We've found that early success against a frightening opponent massively improves a superhero's chances of success, team leadership, and ultimately battles won and lives saved. To that end, we offer the Nemesis program: we provide a supervillain with an eerie fixation on them personally, one who they can defeat in order to improve their standing and outcomes."

I raised an eyebrow. "That sounds... kind of like cheating. But why would she get me into that?"

"Many clients feel the same way as you about the program. But in your case, it will not be a concern." She frowned. "Your sponsor has signed you up as a Nemesis provider – that is to say, as the supervillain."

"Oh. Oh. Fuck me, Emma wants me to get powers just so she can kick my ass, doesn't she?" I growled, shook my head. "So what am I going to have to do? Throw my fights? Embarrass myself? Go to prison for her?! I am not going to—"

"No!" the doctor said. "You won't have to throw your fights, and you won't go to prison. You'll have a way out."

"What is it? Tell me!"

"We'll have you sentenced to a few years of required service in the Wards, instead of prison. It's common – if you follow conspiracy theories, you've heard of it," she said. "If we can't persuade them to accept you, or if you turn the offer down, we'll have you broken out of jail."

"Okay," I said. After the loud outburst of before, I suddenly felt listless. Tired. Like all I wanted to do was curl up in my bed. I put my head down on the doctor's cool metal tabletop, and started to cry, my whole body shaking as if in a cold wind.

"You're still not interested?" the doctor said. She sounded unused to pity, but nevertheless I heard it there. She touched my shoulder gingerly, like she was touching a china doll.

"N-no, no, that isn't... I want to do it. If it'll get me out, I want to do it." I looked back up at her, trying to calm my breathing, stop the trembling. "That's the problem. Because now I have to either find the self-respect not to be Emma's bitch, even if it would get me out... or admit to myself that I don't have it any more."

"Then fight, Miriam!" the doctor said. "You don't have to give up!"

"How can I?" My face twisted as I looked up at her in disbelief. "That's how this works, isn't it? The Nemesis loses! That's the point!"

"Your client thinks you'll lose. That doesn't mean you will." The doctor smiled. "To sponsor their own Nemesis, your client has had to bend all the rules of the program. That means they won't have most of the advantages Nemesis clients normally do. Their power will most likely be much stronger than yours, but these are only estimates, never certainties. Your test results could change everything... and so could hard work."

"How likely is that?"

"It's hard to know. I'll be able to give you a better estimate after you've completed your testing – psychological and physical tests that help us estimate what your resulting power will be like. If your test results predict that you will be stronger than the norm for your vial, or if your sponsor is predicted to be weaker, that will make a difference." The doctor looked away, frowning. "It's going to be hard, Miriam, maybe harder than anything you've ever done before. You'll need determination, willingness to sacrifice, willingness to get hurt. You'll need to raise money, practice, strategize, and study your powers. But if you really do think this is your only way out – if you're willing to work like it's your only way out – then I think you have a chance to win."

"What does winning even mean? Will she stop going after me?"

"Your Nemesis contract has a limited duration. 10 weeks, 9 notoriety events, and 7 fights with your Nemesis client. If you complete the contract without being captured, then we say you've performed an upset and defeated your client." The doctor shuffled through her papers, handed me a packet. "Here are the details for your reference. After the contract ends, they might not stop going after you, but they won't have a contract to depend on any longer. Plus, after seven fights, they'll get little or no reputation boost from beating you – if anything, continuing to lose would be a drag on their reputation."

"All right, all right, it's just..." I looked away. "What happens if I don't win?"

"Then you get to leave with powers bought on her dime, and your head held high knowing that you fought as hard as you could." There was a sparkle in her eye. "Not that bad, is it?"

"Guess not." I looked up to her, hope beginning to dawn on my face. "How long will I be able to back out, if I accept?"

"Until the moment you drink your vial," the doctor said. "Though it will cost your sponsor tens of thousands of dollars if you go through with the testing..."

"Then I'm in."

~~

[ Emma ]

"Your tests look great, Cleopatra," the doctor said. "Nothing amiss. You'll have your power in three more weeks, right on schedule. But we must strongly advise you to terminate the sponsored enrollment."

"What?" I drawled, smiling at her. "Something's wrong with Taylor? Who would have thought."

"Everything went wrong," the doctor said, her voice level but her face giving a distinct impression of annoyance. "And we haven't even finished her testing yet. First problem: the candidate scored dramatically above the maximum IQ for Nemesis providers, which will significantly increase the chances of an upset. I assume that doesn't faze you?"

"Of course not," I said with a derisive snort. "Doesn't mean anything. She's not that smart in the real world — you should see her grades. Is that it?"

"Not hardly," the doctor said dryly. "The candidate failed the brain scan and the psych eval, both of them very badly. That means we cannot predict exactly what will happen to her if you allow this to go ahead. She could mutate into something unrecognizable, lose her memories, or even lose her mind. There is a significant risk of sudden death."

"Hah. Always knew she was a psycho," I said. Then I stopped for a second, thinking. "You told her? And she didn't pull out?"

"Yes, of course we told her. The candidate has been warned of the risks, and has accepted them, even though we counseled her in the strongest terms not to. It's up to you whether we go forward."

"Huh," I said. "Good for her. Would have thought she'd chicken out, news like that." I smirked. "I'm still in."

"Why? What's the advantage of selecting your Nemesis if they might not look like themselves, remember who they were, or even survive their sample?" Her annoyance had boiled over into active frustration, in her words and on her voice. "What is the point of going through all this time and expense for a corpse?"

"I'll know what happened, even if she doesn't," I said with a grin. "Good enough for me."

She sighed curtly. "I see. But there is still one more thing. Given her test results, we cannot predict what power she will get if she does survive. We won't be able to guide you against her as effectively, and... there is a significant risk that she could be stronger than you. That, if you fought her, you could lose."

I froze, my mouth falling open. Losing? To Taylor? "No way! I thought the vial we were giving her was supposed to be weak!"

"With her test results, there's no vial predictable enough to call weak," the doctor said. "This was a dangerous plan from the beginning, Cleo. This sponsored Nemesis arrangement always lacked the safeguards the ordinary Nemesis program relies on, and now that we know we can't control her power, I must strongly advise you to terminate the arrangement. If you like, we can try an alternate candidate as your sponsored Nemesis, or we could provide a standard Nemesis with your chosen power—"

"No!" I said. "No. I... I know the results might have come out bad, but... it's Taylor. She's not going to be stronger than me. She just... she just can't be." The doctor looked distinctly irked now. I guess no one liked to be wrong. "I mean, why are you so worried? My power's supposed to be good, right? Give me the numbers, doctor."

She sighed. "It is almost certain that, should the candidate survive, she will be much stronger than the norm for her sample. It's harder to say whether she'll be stronger than you. We have very limited data on candidates like her. Our best estimate is that her power will be no less variable than if she'd triggered naturally. Likely even more so."

"Yeah, but my sample is going to be better than a regular old natural trigger, right?"

"Your own sample will easily place you above the ninety-eighth percentile for natural triggers, yes," the doctor said.

"So that's a ninety-eight percent chance I'm stronger than her?" I snorted, shook my head. "That's nothing."

"I would call that significantly overconfident," the doctor said, "given how little we know about people with test results like the candidate's. They are very extreme, Cleo, and past candidates like her have become extremely powerful."

I sighed. "Look, you don't have to worry so much. Maybe you don't know what's going to happen, but I do. I mean, it's Taylor. She wouldn't know what to do with real power if it bit her on the ass."

"All right," the doctor said. "It is your choice." It seemed like she'd reached acceptance of this particular grief – her voice was low and level again. "Given these conditions, I cannot offer you any death or mutation refund. The candidate's fees must be paid in full, regardless of the outcome."

"That's just fine." I grinned. "Do it."

 

[BeaconHill]

Nemesis
Chapter 3: "Hope"​

[ Emma ]

The bell over the door rang as I pushed open the door to my favorite coffeeshop, a cute little place downtown, not far from my new apartment. And an entirely unexpected voice called out "Hello! Welcome to Leblanc!"

I did a double-take, staring at the girl behind the counter. Was that really Taylor? Crap, it was! That was annoying. I couldn't bully Taylor here, the owners were strict about people harassing the staff – one of my friends had gotten kicked out once, going after some other waste of space.

Which didn't mean I couldn't try to make her overreact, as long as I was subtle about it...

"Hiiii, Taylor!" I drawled, sauntering up to the counter. I really hadn't expected her to get a job – she'd been such a scaredy-cat lately, I was surprised to even see her out of the house. On the other hand, this did mean I'd get to order her around, so it wasn't so bad.

She put her book down as she approached – oh, she was reading a beat-up old textbook on insects! Ha! Sounds like she bought it hook, line, and sinker, like she was really expecting to get something out of that lemon power I'd saddled her with. She was even following all the bullshit advice Cauldron gave. Pro tip: if you need to read a book to use your power, your power sucks!

I bet she hadn't even thought her nemesis could be me. What an idiot.

"Hello, ma'am," Taylor said, just a quirk of an eyebrow to indicate she'd recognized me at all. Ugh. She seemed more confident. Oh, how fun it would be to smash her and that silly new attitude of hers. "What would you like?"

"I'll have a cup of coffee and a slice of banana bread," I ordered. I hoped she'd screw up – she had to be new, I went here all the time and I'd never seen her – and then I'd get to complain to her boss.

She did take a little while, but soon enough she called my name, setting a steaming hot cup and a slice of bread at my usual chair by the front.

I took a sip, and then a bite, and everything tasted perfect. Ugh.

~~

[ Taylor ]

The door slid open as I lay on the couch, panting weakly, sweat soaking into the perfectly clean white fabric. I didn't bother looking up to see who had entered. Everything burned. Everything. I'd been training to run long before I knew Cauldron was going to test me on it, but... god, I could hardly walk any longer, let alone run. I hoped they didn't ask me to do more.

"Hey, Miriam," said a quiet, maternal voice. "How are you doing?"

"Hello, doctor," I said. "Exhausted."

"Yeah, I'll bet."

"So, what's the verdict? Am I tough enough for powers?"

She shook her head. "It's not a physical test, Miriam. Our samples, surprisingly enough, don't require distance running ability. It's a psychological test. A measure of your determination, which plays a big impact in success rates for both heroes and villains. We were tracking when you'd give up, relative to objective biological stress indicators."

"Oh." I closed my eyes, falling limp against the couch. "How did I do?"

"Marvelously," the doctor said. "You didn't give up until you were physically incapable of continuing." The couch flexed as she sat next to me, right by my head. I opened my eyes to see her wry smile. "Guess there had to be one test you wouldn't bomb."

"Hey," I said, trying to sound offended but mostly just sounding tired. "It wasn't like I chose to fail all those other tests."

"No. But you did choose to proceed, even when it became clear just how much you were risking." She sighed. "Which I guess would serve to confirm the determination test."

"Doctor, I'm not going to pull out – this is the best thing that ever happened to me!" Even lying limp on the couch, I had a big smile on my face. "I've been preparing and practicing and studying, I've been running laps around the block, coming up with strategies... I mean, I even got a summer job! Me! How crazy is that?" I struggled weakly upright, so I was sitting side by side with the doctor. "And it's all because I have something to hope for. I won't throw that away, doctor. No matter what the risks are. Because I have nothing else." I bit my lip, looking away. "Except maybe dying young," I added, in a murmur so low it barely reached my own ears.

"Can't getting powers on your own be a good enough hope?" the doctor asked. "You saw the MRI, you saw that you have the potential. You don't need us to become a cape. And a natural trigger doesn't come with the risks of taking a sample, or the Nemesis program contract terms."

"I know. But I can't wait forever," I said. "I didn't trigger when my Mom died, or when Emma left me, or after the flute or the locker. What else has to happen before I'd trigger on my own? I can't think of much worse, and I don't want to find out." I reached gingerly up to pat my head. "Sorry, power. This is your last chance. August 2nd or bust."

"It's why I never took a vial myself," the doctor said. "I failed the MRI, like you did. I didn't want to run the risk of mutation. I always ask, when clients choose to proceed despite the test failure... do you think I should?"

"Do you want this badly enough to run the risk?" I asked. "Because if you don't, then you're making the right choice. Some of those pictures you showed me were pretty grisly." I smiled again, taut and stretched but still a smile. "It's just that I want this more than I care about dying." I turned toward her, wincing at a twinge from my back. "You're not going to convince me, doctor. I'm determined."

She laughed, a short, sharp, bitter bark. "I guess you are, Miriam. I hope it turns out well for you."

~~

[ Emma ]

"Now, I'd like to ask you just one question before we begin," the doctor said.

"What?" I craned my head. "I paid your bill, I passed your tests, I agreed to your contract and your favors and everything else. I'm even wearing your stupid suit. Can't you just give me my sample now? What else do I have to do?"

"Of course," the doctor said. "I'd just like you to say a few words for our records. Why did you choose to buy a power from us? And why did you choose to sponsor another client?"

I sighed, flipping my red hair back. "I deserve to have powers. My so-called friend said I couldn't get them. I'm just proving her wrong. See, this is exactly how the world should always work! I want it, I buy it, I get it. It's that easy."

"And the sponsored enrollment?"

"Some people just deserve to get crushed." I shrugged. "What can I say? I think it's going to be fun. I think she deserves it, and I think she's going to be an excellent victim."

"I guess we'll see." The doctor reached out toward me, holding a long, thin vial. "Drink this as quickly as you can," she said.

"Finally," I said with a smirk, as I grabbed the vial and drank it in one gulp.

~~

[ Taylor ]

"I can't believe it's finally time," I said, leaning forward in the chair. I was wearing a loose white jumpsuit marked CLIENT, and in smaller letters Miriam – a precaution, apparently, in case my powers ruined my clothes.

"Me either," said the doctor dryly, reaching into her canister and pulling out a silver vial, long and thin. "Remember what we discussed. Drink this as quickly as you can. This will hurt, and there may be other side effects, even serious ones. Just stay calm, and it'll be over within two minutes. And... it is okay if this is hard for you. It usually is."

"I remember," I said with a nod. "My sponsor's already done this, right? How'd she react?"

The doctor smiled, if only for a split second. "I am not at liberty to discuss," she said, pulling the stopper off the vial and then handing it to me. I held it almost reverently. "Whenever you're ready, Miriam."

I tilted my head up, and then poured the vial straight down my throat.

Then I flinched. From shock, surprisingly – I'd been warned, but nevertheless, I hadn't expected the pain to be this hard or this fast.

But then I took a deep breath, and started to deal with it.

"You seem very calm, Miriam," said the doctor. "Try to hold onto that – like we discussed, it will reduce your chances of deviation. You won't stay conscious for much longer – no more than a minute or two."

"All right," I said absently. It did seem to be coming easily to me, more easily than I had expected. Repressing the pain, just sitting back in my chair and letting it happen.

My vision blurred, darkening at the edges, then winking out entirely in a flash. That should have been alarming, but somehow it wasn't. And I was really beginning to wonder why.

It wasn't that it didn't hurt. When I thought about what was happening to me, I knew that it was actually really, really painful. Worse than breaking my arm back in third grade. Worse than the locker, or the hospital stay afterward where my arm burned with infection. No, it definitely did hurt. Quite a lot, actually. It was just... after all that had happened to me, ignoring my pain had become the most natural thing in the world.

When the unconsciousness took me, I had just barely started to laugh.

~~

[ Taylor ]

"Miriam, can you hear me?"

I heard the doctor's voice, but I wasn't sure what to do about it. My vision was strange – I saw the chair and the lab where I'd taken the vial, but it was fragmented, broken into millions of tiny blurry fields of view, pointing all different directions. It made me dizzy.

"Miriam?" she repeated.

I tried to say something back, but I realized that I wasn't sure how. I didn't have a mouth. I didn't know what to do.

"Taylor!" she shouted, and it sounded serious. She'd never said my real name before, so this had to be serious. I still couldn't talk, but I tried to turn around, sort of? Face her? And that was when I realized... there was a lot of me. I was mostly flying in the air. And, if my strange vision was to be believed... I was a swarm of bugs.

"I will take that as a conscious reaction," she said nervously. "When you took your vial, you transformed into a swarm of flies, floating in midair. That's not entirely unexpected, given the sample you took. I know you've been out of it for a little while, but you need to turn back now, or at least try. Do you understand?"

Yes. Yes, I did. After all... the alternative was being trapped like this, wasn't it?

I tried to see it. To imagine it. Becoming myself again. I almost felt it. Almost.

My bodies were still hovering over the chair I'd been sitting in. I flew together, flies pressing against each other. I could feel something building up as they gathered, until finally there was a pulse, and suddenly I was myself again, sprawled backwards into the chair. Still wearing my Cauldron overalls and everything.

"Congratulations, Miriam," the doctor said, sounding very calm as I scrambled around in the chair to face forward again. "It looks like you have something new. And you seem to have gotten it without any mutations. Becoming a swarm of insects instead of just one will be a significant advantage for you. Now, let's run a few tests to see what else you can do. But let me step behind the shield for my own protection."

She walked to the far end of the room, then walked behind a big, heavy sheet of glass.

"Now, see if you can control what kinds of bugs you change into. Can you make a swarm of bees?"

Instead of replying, I reached to my power, and changed. It felt... strange. Indescribable. On the one hand, it was so natural – like moving an arm, or looking the other direction. Like it was something I could always do. Like it was normal. But it wasn't. I was a swarm of bees floating in midair.

"Good," she said. "Being able to control what insect you become is one of the more powerful manifestations of the power. Can you add more insects, of a kind you've only read about?"

Silently, I flew some of the bees into each other, midair collision letting them fuse together into Japanese giant hornets. It worked, the big bees zooming around and around until I rammed them all back together and turned into myself once more.

"Congratulations. Are you able to change the size of the insects you turn into? Become a giant ant or spider, like the other recipients of your vial?"

I wasn't sure. It didn't feel like turning into the swarms had. But I pictured a giant praying mantis, right out of my books... and it happened, just like I wanted. I was tall enough that my head was scraping the ceiling.

I stomped around, just a little. It was fun being a mantis. But I didn't have a lot of headroom in here, and I didn't want to break anything, so I turned back into myself again.

"Another successful test. Excellent. Can you change your overall mass? Grow heavier or lighter than your human body is? What are your limits? If you can become a huge swarm, that would be very valuable indeed." The doctor almost sounded proud now, or maybe pleased. I had survived, and my power was looking pretty good. No wonder she was happy.

I turned into a swarm once more, and tried to get larger. I could feel it – my power knew how to make me bigger. But I just couldn't. Something was missing. I tried to make myself smaller, and that didn't work either – I had the same sense of stuckness, of my power just not being able to do it. I changed back to myself, looked down at the polished white floors. "I can't," I said. "There's something stopping me."

"Hmm. Okay. So you have a serious size restriction. Don't worry so much about it – you'll still be by far the best recorded outcome from your vial." She may have said that, but she still sounded pretty disappointed. And, honestly, I was too. I'd taken a crazy risk in drinking this vial and getting these powers, but... Emma was supposed to be strong. Was this really going to be enough?

The doctor had a few more tests, and I did them all with a pit in my stomach.

~~

[ Emma ]

"Hello?" I asked, cradling my phone to my ear. On the outside, I tried to look irritated – a friend calling me in the middle of PRT headquarters? On the inside, I was giddy. Today was Taylor's trigger day. How did it go?

"Hello, Cleopatra," said the faint, tinny voice of Cauldron's doctor. "This is the doctor. We're pleased to report that your sponsored client has consumed their vial successfully. Vital signs normal, no mutations, no brain damage."

"And?" I said, trying not to sound too eager. I was walking right next to Miss Militia, who was acting like a slightly dim superhero mom. But if she'd survived as a Brockton Bay cape for as long as I could remember, she probably had just a smidge of suspicion buried under her goofily exaggerated dimples and her nice kind words. I needed to keep this low key.

"She received powers roughly equivalent to the top results for her sample: she can transform into any insect, can scale her insects up or down, and can partially transform. She also has a new ability not seen before with her sample: she can become many smaller insects, which seem able to perform many functions at once."

"Called it!" I said. "Nothing to worry about. I so knew it."

"Remember, we didn't test her for long. She may discover many more ways to use her power. Moreover, we do think that the swarm ability on its own could, with development, meet or exceed many high-level Master—"

I hung up on her. I'd heard what I needed to hear – and there was a familiar face staring at me from the other side of the hall.

"Hey, Sophia," I said. "Long time no see."

Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. What's wrong, Soph? Can't handle the truth? "E-Emma?" she finally stammered. "What are you doing here?"

"You know her?" Miss Militia asked Sophia, an eyebrow raising subtly.

"Yeah – knew her, I mean – but... what's going on?" Poor Sophia.

"We've just finished up all of the paperwork," Miss Militia said. "She's the newest member of the Brockton Bay Wards."

"We just got back from a power testing session down in the labs," I drawled. "They're thinking Shaker 8 or 9, with Mover and Brute ratings." Miss Militia and I hadn't broken step when we ran into Sophia. We walked right past her, with her still standing there, gaping at me. And it wasn't until I was almost past her that I leaned in and whispered "Told you so."

I traced a heart in the air, adding just the tiniest filament of crystal where my fingertip traced. Then I shattered it, and kept on walking.

Later, Sophia!

~~

[ Taylor ]

"Thank you, doctor," I said, reaching out to shake her hand as a strong wind blew in through the portal.

I'd done a few other tests, none of them positive – the swarm ability was, apparently, the only new thing I'd gotten. I couldn't say I wasn't a little bit disappointed – after all the warnings she'd given me, I'd expected something truly crazy.

But I'd gotten what they promised, without the mutations they'd warned of. I'd come out all right, I thought.

"It's been a pleasure," the doctor replied, her voice warm. She shook my hand, her grip loose and gentle. "We'll be in contact in three weeks, after the preparation period, to check in with you on the start to your Nemesis contract."

"Of course," I said. "Goodbye, doctor."

"Goodbye, Miriam," she said, as I stepped through the portal and onto the grass.

I sighed as it closed behind me, and I started to walk down the grassy path. Normally, Cauldron had opened their portal straight into my house, but... this time, I'd asked for something a little more melancholy.

I knelt down before my mother's grave, on the hill in the Brockton Bay cemetery.

"Well, it worked," I said. "I have powers. No mutations, and I'm a good bit stronger than the sample was supposed to be, it's just..." My voice cut off, quiet, strangled. "I'm not sure it'll be enough," I whispered. "You have any hints?"

That was when I noticed something.

It had been prickling on the edge of my power since I left Cauldron. I thought it wasn't important – maybe just exhaustion – since I hadn't felt it in Cauldron's lab. But now it wasn't just something tingling on my power – it was something tingling on my skin.

I looked down and saw an ant there, one that had crawled up from the dirt. And with a thought, with a push of my power, it joined into me, vanishing into my skin. And my jaw dropped open. I flexed my power and felt everything – the bees in the trees, the butterflies in the flowers, the ants in the dirt. I twisted them with my power, and they all turned into bees. Another flex, and they turned back.

Of course! Cauldron's headquarters were kept antiseptically clean. There were no bugs anywhere, none except for me. Which is why I didn't know. Why I didn't see it.

I thought all I could do was turn myself into a swarm or a giant bug. Which was all right, as powers go. Not hugely strong, if I was limited to just my body size.

But I wasn't. I could take any bugs, and I could turn them all into me. Shift them and change them like they were part of my own body. I had no size limitation whatsoever – I could become swarms of locusts out of the Bible, big enough to destroy cities. I could be a legion of giant insects, a real army. I could even be a swarm of mes, if I wanted.

Could I breed more bugs? Make myself even bigger? I bet I could. What kind of bugs would be easiest to breed, anyway? I'd have to do more research. But I could start my training now. Wild insects swarmed in the woods, clustering together. It was time to test my real powers, free from Cauldron's prying eyes. As helpful as they'd been, they did have to report everything they knew about my powers to my sponsor. But they had no idea about this.

"Thanks, Mom," I whispered.

Then my body at the gravestone burst into bugs – and the insects in the forest turned into me. I grinned, and started gathering bugs for another body.

One thing was for sure: I wasn't going to be the pushover Emma had bargained for.

 

[BeaconHill]

Nemesis
Chapter 4: "Bumblebee"​

[ Taylor ]

My laptop whirred away on the bed in front of me, my feet kicking in the air as my body tingled with excitement. I'd done it. I'd taken the risk and come out ahead, and while I wasn't confident putting an actual ranking on my new powers, I knew that I was going to be good. I knew what insects could do, and I at least knew where to start on squeezing every last trick I could get out of my abilities. I could really go for something big if I wanted. Maybe see how Brockton Bay liked to have a spider-queen? I knew I might be letting my ego get the best of me, but I was a powerful, dedicated, serious supervillain, so of course I wanted to flaunt it. To show Emma, to show the whole world who I really was.

I wasn't going to.

The problem was, Emma's goal was to boost her reputation by taking down a terrifying opponent, which meant the more terrifying I was, the better her reputation got. No matter how fearsome I became, I could never really defeat her – the rules of the Nemesis program said I couldn't kill her, couldn't maim her, couldn't Master her, couldn't even take her out of the fight for long. In fact, I couldn't even avoid her – I had to stand and fight and not run away. No – even if she lost every time, she'd look good, the noble superhero taking the fight to the villain no one else could match.

Plus, the scarier I got, the more PRT and Protectorate resources Emma could draw on. I was pretty good, I knew – my power made me a natural escape artist, which was excellent considering my real goal was to not get caught. But what if Emma got to break out the big guns? If she could spray pesticides, or call in out-of-town capes? What if she got to use lethal force? I was good, but I couldn't match the whole PRT, Protectorate, and Wards. And if Emma played her cards right, she could be in the vanguard as they brought me down.

No, that wasn't what I wanted. I wanted her to look ridiculous – embarrass her when she loses, make her look crazy when she gets mad, turn my own arrest absurd if it came to that. And make it so losing the Nemesis program's seven fights would stop anyone from ever taking her seriously again.

The easiest way to do that? Was to look utterly ridiculous myself.

A lot of cities had one or two supervillains that made jokes of themselves on purpose. Hammy lines, silly costumes, mostly harmless crimes – they were as lovable as supervillains could get. The weird thing was, supervillains like that could do a lot better than the serious ones. See, people liked them. They got fandoms on PHO and pictures on shop walls and even souvenirs. They became local legends. It was hilarious when heroes lost to them, but even when they won, they mostly just looked like the fun police. What were you thinking, going after her? She's not hurting anybody. The closest we had in Brockton Bay were Uber and Leet, but they were assholes, which undercut the charm. The slot was open, if I wanted it.

I hadn't been planning on this. I'd thought I'd need to use everything I had to have a chance against Emma, or that I wouldn't have a way to make my power look friendly enough for it. But I was strong. I could afford to lose some strength to gain some image. And I had lots of ideas on how to turn my power to the humorous.

Doing that would make me look pretty silly, and I didn't love that. This just wasn't like me. But the difference between me and Emma was, I could take looking ridiculous. She couldn't. The more I won, the madder she'd get, and the madder she'd get, the worse she'd look.

Still, my new cape ID was going to be really silly.

I turned back to my laptop, started to scroll through my research. I'd been studying comedy capes ever since I flew back – heroes like Mouse Protector and the Dream Parade, villains like Dryad and Ringmaster and Doctor Roboto. I'd watched hours of videos, read loads of articles, and now I had pages full of notes – how they talked, how they acted, how they made people laugh even as they stole from them, how they made themselves look incompetent even as they got away with everything. What they did when things went wrong. And photos, a whole collection of them. Dryad in her leafy leotard, holding a sign that said "VEGGIES ARE MURDER" as the grocery store vegetable aisle behind her erupted into a forest of plant life. Ringmaster in his tuxedo jacket with nothing at all underneath, his tigers all around him and his flaming hoop in his hand. Doctor Roboto in her sparkly minidress, surrounded by robots with cartoonish angry eyebrows on their red LED faces, the laser attached to her gadget-festooned goggles tracing a heart on the ceiling.

All of that was going to be me. Jokes, gags, clumsiness, failing at being a supervillain, viral video popularity – the whole nine yards. It was going to be... well, crazy. It really was nothing like me. And, sure, maybe I'd give up on it in the end. I wasn't going to stop working on my serious skills. But I was going to try. I was definitely going to try.

At least I could promise myself that I was never going to wear a costume like Dryad's or Doctor Roboto's. I mean, look at all the skin they were showing! Look at their breasts! Thank god I didn't have the body for it. I would have been mortified.

~~

[ Taylor ]

I was standing in the middle of the woods, and I was starting to get frustrated with this whole humor villain angle.

For starters, my costume was horrible – it was a boiler-suit style ladybug outfit, red with black spots, and it looked ridiculous in a bad way. Ladybugs were supposed to be big and bulbous, and I was way too tall for it – I looked like someone had taken a ladybug and stretched it out. It was ridiculous. I'd have to make another version, but... as much as I hated to admit it, I probably had to try the minidress thing. There was a reason all the other comedy villains dressed skimpy – it was just funny seeing a supervillain show that much skin. Not to mention, it did help to build a fanbase. It was clearly the better style – I just didn't think I could do it.

That wasn't the only thing that was going wrong. I still hadn't found good sidekick bugs. And I'd been practicing my banter, too, and I still wasn't convinced I was actually doing it right.

Maybe what I needed was another set of eyes?

A lot of the humor of a villain was physical – words, yes, but also body language, expression, gestures, and I couldn't see any of that the way another person would. But I could if I summoned another body...

My insects clustered together and formed into another human body that dropped onto the dead leaves. It looked exactly like me – I could change all my insects within their species' ranges of natural variation, but I couldn't look like different human beings, just myself...

I shrieked, covering myself with my hands, as I finally realized that my new body was stark naked.

Both of my bodies blushed. I tried to cover myself in butterflies, but that didn't help at all, it just looked kind of kinky, and besides, it tickled... I'd changed into my costume out here, hadn't I? Where were my normal clothes?

My body dove for them, putting them on in record time. I was decent again, thank goodness.

All right. Back to work. That might have been funny, but there was no way in hell I was ever gonna do that on purpose.

First order of business? Finding myself a species I could make bigger, to use as a buggy sidekick. I'd tried ladybugs last time, but I didn't think they'd work – they were cute in miniature, but the giant ones looked just a little bit too creepy. Too many strange beetley bits. I had a whole list to try today: butterflies, bumblebees, caterpillars, moths, and jumping spiders. Any of them could work, but I was really hoping to find a primary sidekick bug that could fly – it just made things easier, and if I couldn't get that, I might well have to abandon the idea altogether.

My first try was a butterfly. It was very beautiful, gliding through the forest on its massive shining wings. I really admired it. It didn't look too buggy at all – sure, it had bug parts, but they were smaller, deemphasized by the huge, pretty wings. But... I still couldn't use them. Butterflies were beautiful, graceful, and elegant, and I had to be goofy, clumsy, and ridiculous. Maybe I could have a schtick where they were supposed to be conceited and snooty? I tried a line or two, but they weren't great. Maybe I could use them for some things, but not as my main sidekicks.

My second try was a bumblebee. And suddenly everything worked.

It looked perfect. Of course it looked perfect – I should have tried it sooner. A big fuzzy bumblebee only got bigger, fuzzier, and bumblier when I scaled it up, and that was exactly what I wanted. I watched as it zoomed through the air, ungainly and oversized, struggling to turn and navigate. I would have to get rid of the stinger – that thing was way too big to be used on anything but Brutes, look how huge it was! – but, other than that, this was wonderful.

There was only one problem – it was a bit hard to fly straight as these things. I hadn't had a lot of practice flying at all, and as a giant bumblebee, I was so heavy that I had to overcome inertia every time I wanted to turn. I kept on zooming, working on bends and loops, feeling my body plow through the air, and then—

My bumblebee body flew straight into my human body, knocking me flat on my butt. And I was almost embarrased, and I almost just poofed it back into smaller bugs and moved on.

But I'd seen the whole thing with my other body, too. And it was the funniest thing ever.

Run with it! I told myself. Keep going!

"Hey!" I said, glaring at the bumblebee as I stood back up, dusting off my costume. My voice was pitched up in a particularly petulant anger. "Watch where you're going!"

My bumblebee rose back into the air, her head pitched downward in shame. She turned slowly away from me, buzzing toward the woods.

"Hey, no, I didn't mean it like that," I said, grabbing her with my hands and spinning her around to face me. "You know I love you, it's just..." I bent down and kissed her on the top of her fuzzy head, right between the antennae. "Sorry, little guy."

She perked back up at that, buzzing happily at me before going back to zooming around the forest. And my grin was just getting wider.

I had it. I had everything. I had my sidekick, and I had my schtick: I would be the happy, naive, clueless supervillain, with my clumsy, disobedient sidekick bees who I could never stay mad at for long.

Now I just had to practice. And... I looked down at my garish ladybug costume. Nope, this had to go too. My new theme would be bumblebee.

~~

[ Taylor ]

It had taken a lot of research and a lot of work, but finally my costume-weaving was going smoothly.

It was one hell of an operation. I'd turned into millions of spiders for it. I had spiders making silk of many different kinds – strong and stretchy line were the main ones, but I had a few others. There were even a few spiders making tangled balls of web, for use as padding. I had spiders to run the thread through vats of dye, spiders to carry it from place to place, and spiders to weave it all together into a costume.

Yeah, this was just about the creepiest thing ever. If I was going to keep my reputation friendly, I had to make sure no one ever saw this.

But it was effective. I could make any clothes I wanted, faster than I could order them or sew them together as a human. Faster even than going to the store and buying something. And the clothes were beautiful, too – soft, wonderful silk, perfectly formed to whatever shape I wanted. Because I used Darwin's Bark spiders, with the strongest web in the world, I knew it was going to be tough and sturdy, never tearing. No wardrobe malfunctions for this supervillain. And the best part was, it was surprisingly easy to do, once I'd managed to figure it out. I could make as many outfits as I wanted, for different designs or backups or anything.

I wondered idly how I managed to keep track of it all, how I managed to keep so many spiders coordinated as they worked. It had to be my power, right? Like, a minor Thinker power? Because there was no way I could have handled so many things at once before I'd gotten my power.

One of my human bodies walked over to look at the finished product: a tight, skin-color bodysuit, to keep me protected... and a skimpy, bumblebee-striped minidress, to wear on top of it. It even had wings, dark silk stretched over wire like in a cheap Halloween costume. If you thought I wouldn't have been caught dead in anything like it, you would be completely right.

Yes, making this costume had been easy. Wearing it? That would be the hard part.

~~

[ Taylor ]

I paced through the abandoned warehouse that served as my new lair, angry at my costume. Not because it was bad – no, quite the opposite. Because it was too good.

I'd never wanted to wear that bumblebee minidress. But no matter what I did, no matter what I tried, it was just the best option. Pretty in a goofy kind of way, just like I wanted it to be. It was the right costume, I knew – I just couldn't stand to wear it. The thing was so skimpy, so ridiculous... It made me angry, that my powers, my high hopes, had really come to this. It made me want to drop the whole humor-villain angle altogether. But determination didn't always mean looking cool and suave and badass. It meant making the right choice. And sometimes, that meant embarrassing myself. I hated my costume. I hated everything about it. I hadn't shown that much skin or worn a skirt that short... ever. But that was exactly what made it the perfect costume for me. And I was determined.

So, with a sigh, I took off yet another failed attempt at a more concealing costume. Now it was time to see if I could give up something else: my skin-colored bodysuit.

Originally, it had been for protection. It turned out, however, that my transformations healed me – I didn't need to care about protecting myself. And the bodysuit really, really didn't look right. The only thing was... I just didn't think I bring myself to show that much skin.

But I at least wanted to think about it. See what it would be like.

Then I looked into the mirror, and transformed.

I couldn't change human bodies the way I could my bugs. I could make any kind of bug I wanted – any individual of any species, within their natural range of variations. For humans, it was different. I could only become one individual: Taylor Hebert, my human self. But I could change her, within her range of natural variation. I could change her weight, her physique, her hair, her skin, even her age. So I made my skin smooth, let a healthy tan replace my usual pallor. I hadn't shaved my legs in ages, but that didn't matter – the hair receded and went away. Then my hair – my long, beautiful hair – vanished in a puff of butterflies.

Then I admired myself in the mirror, looking at my arms and my legs. They looked fine. They looked great. There was no reason I had to hide them. I could just skip the bodysuit...

I shook my head. No. No, I just wasn't ready yet. So I pulled the bodysuit on one more time, and then the minidress on over it. I had a few new additions this time: goggles, black and teardrop-shaped, meant to look like insect eyes. I didn't want to have a big, ugly strap for them, and as a humor villain I couldn't wear a full mask, so instead I'd decided to glue each lens to my face – it worked better than it sounded. Finally, I put on the newest addition to my costume: a blonde wig, styled in pigtails, two antennae rising up from it to end in two big black-and-yellow pompoms.

Even with the bodysuit, I looked pretty good. I summoned my bugs – three of my big sidekick bumblebees, plus a whole swarm of smaller ones – and walked across the warehouse, stopping in front of a set of double doors standing in the middle of the room, hinges nailed to a stack of crates.

One thing that was remarkably consistent in all the books I'd read, pretty much no matter what they were about, was practice, practice, practice. As often as you can, as much as you can, and as close to real life as you can. So I'd built this place. I'd taken stuff left around in the warehouse, and used it to set up an area I could build and rebuild to match whatever place I was planning to rob.

Today, I'd set it up as the interior of a bank, a scenario I'd copied out of a Doctor Roboto video. Her work were really helpful, because her MO was a lot like mine – she had minions, her goofy, malfunctioning robots, which were a lot like my bumbling bees. Our styles were very different – hers was a hammy, cackling-mad villainy, whereas I was angling for more of a cheerful obliviousness. But we'd operate similarly – hit similar targets, attacking in similar ways, so I could learn a lot from her.

I'd already filled up the bank with victims – more Taylors, each wearing a perfectly matched white shirt and sweatpants. There wasn't much point in practicing if I didn't have anyone to practice with, so it was lucky that I could make as many people as I wanted.

Besides, if I could keep a straight face while robbing a dozen of my own bodies, I could keep a straight face for anything.

I walked through the doors, my sidekick bees following behind me, my smaller ones swarming ahead of me to control the civilians.

"Hi!" I said, loud and chirpy. "I'm Bugsy, and I'm here to steal all the money in the vault. Don't like it? Talk to the bees!"

Yeah, I know. The name needs work.

~~

[ Taylor ]

I stood on the roof of the ice cream parlor, my costume skirt flapping in the wind, watching the sun set from behind the shop's giant ice cream cone sign.

It was finally time. My first real robbery. I'd been watching the shop for days. I'd copied its layout in my practice arena, and I must have run through the plan a hundred time. I had my lines prepared, my jokes, my bumblebee gags, everything. I'd thrown every complication I could think of at myself in the arena, all the way up to 'the entire Wards team was there in civvies.'

I'd even reworked my costume one last time – but not, for once, to make it tamer. It was frilly now, black lace around my arms, my neck, and the hem of my skirt. I'd added a fuzzy yellow-and-black choker around my neck, and the costume's yellow-and-black stripes now swirled and whorled across my body. It was lower-cut now. Perhaps the biggest change: I'd finally gotten rid of that horrible bodysuit. Yes, that was my real skin showing, my real legs and arms, and though the suit had to do a lot of pushing and padding, the cleavage was really mine, too. And I was actually starting to like it. I was starting to love it.

There was just something magnetic about changing like this. Before, I'd used to worry about someone finding me out – someone recognizing my build and my hair and putting two and two together. But this? No one would ever connect this skimpy blonde bumblebee to shy, pale, mousy, hoodie-wearing Taylor Hebert, and that felt amazing. I got a real thrill out of it – changing, becoming something new, almost like I did when I used my power. Except this was all me, my regular old human self. And, somehow, I was really pulling it off.

This was going to be the most important robbery of my career. My first impression. Everything started with this.

I walked to the edge of the roof, feeling the cool sea breeze blowing against my skin. I jumped off, shifting into a cloud of butterflies midair. When I shifted back, I was standing on the pavement outside, flanked by three of my giant bumblebees and a whole cloud of smaller ones.

Was I terrified? Sure. But that didn't matter. It was time. And I was ready.

I was Bumblebee.

~~~~~~

This series has been such a blast to write! I can't believe I've already moved this to its own thread. Thanks to everyone who's read and commented!

Also, congratulations to everyone who guessed that Taylor would be a comedy supervillain. I'm sure this isn't what most of you were expecting – I hope you like it. Because there's going to be a lot of fun ahead.

 

[BeaconHill]

Nemesis
Chapter 5: "Crystalia"​

[ Emma ]

"Princess Gemstone!" said the image guy, throwing a packet of designs onto the table before me. "It's perfect!"

"Absolutely not," I said, flipping idly through the papers – the costume design was a fucking minidress, frilly and pink and festooned with fake versions of my gems. "No way in hell. None of this is OK. Well, the fake gems might be nice if they look all right. Maybe you can use them for something sane like a visor. Besides that, though, this is all garbage." I picked up the packet, and tossed it into his trash can. And totally nailed the throw. Nice.

"Hey, hey, wait!" he said. He grabbed the packet back out of the trash can, frantically brushing it off. "You can't turn this down, it's perfect! Your gemstones would market so well to the under-13 demographic – you just have to emphasize it a little, and you could be one of the most popular capes in Brockton Bay! Your merchandise would be flying off the shelves, and let me remind you that you'll get royalties on all that stuff!

"Look, wise guy, let me explain my contract to you: I can turn this down. I don't care about the damn merchandising and I don't care about you. I wouldn't really be popular, anyway. I'd be a joke. I'd be pitied. Now go back to your drawing board and give me something acceptable."

"T-this doesn't have to be the final costume," he stammered, "but you need to at least try it – we can have a prototype costume ready by tomorrow. I've already gone to the Director, and she's fully on board. You can't—"

"Look, I'm sixteen. You can't dress me up like I'm Vista, and neither can the Director. Now, I know it may not have penetrated your thick skull, but women get to choose what we wear these days. We don't all love pink, and we definitely aren't here to be pinups for the creepy old men in the image department. I'll quit if you try."

"I'm only making a proposal!" he said. "You wouldn't really qu—"

I snorted. "Of course I would. In fact, with how rude you've just been, I'm thinking I might quit right now. Wouldn't that look good for you? Driving away the Wards' new star recruit because you insisted on perving on a sixteen-year-old Ward, trying to get me in a teeny weeny miniskirt like that. Or maybe because you're such a sexist dirtbag you can't imagine a woman saying no to pink. Honestly, I don't really care which."

He was just staring now. He'd totally given up. Good. "What do you want?" he groaned.

"Give me something I might actually want to wear," I said. "Or a name I might actually use in public. Something regal and beautiful. Dresses are OK, just not pink. And get it done fast, I don't want this bullshit delaying my introduction. Got that?"

"Y-yes," he said. "I'll get to work."

"Excellent. See you around!" I stood up and left with a jaunty little wave. I could hear him moaning as the door slammed behind me.

~~

[ Emma ]

"Thanks, Carlos," I said as I followed him through the hallway around the arena. "The combat training has been really nice" — the only training that wasn't a waste of time, more like — "but I've really been waiting to spar with a teammate, and I'm so glad you said yes."

"Oh, it's no problem!" Carlos said, grinning at me. "I love sparring. Thank you for letting me do more of it. If you're a fan, too, hopefully we can keep this up." He pushed open the door to the training arena, and held the door for me. Very polite of him. "I gotta admit, I'm curious to see what you can do. I've been hearing about your power for a while, but I haven't gotten to see it in action yet."

"You're just about to find out," I said, smiling teasingly at him. The door closed behind me, leaving us in the sparring ring – a huge room, perfectly circular, going up three or four stories for flyers like us. We took our places on the mat, nodded to each other – and then Aegis charged at me, throwing a big, stupid punch. I grinned. Bad move.

I stepped backwards, leaving a big chunk of pink gemstone where I'd been standing. His hand slammed into it, hard, and he swore. Then, with just a neat little shove from my power, the gemstone toppled over, knocking him to the floor.

"So I'm not totally sure about the rules here... a knockdown is a win, right?" I said teasingly, walking up to where he was trapped. My gems were pretty heavy, and this one had landed right on top of him.

"Yeah, you won," he said. I vanished the gem from atop him in response. "That's what I get for going easy on you," he said, as I bent down to offer him a hand. "No hard feelings. I like to spar rough." He stood back up, dusted himself off.

"Thanks," I said. "I'll remember that. And you should remember to never go easy on me."

"Be careful what you wish for!" he said with a wink.

As we took our places on the mats again, I noticed a few people watching from the viewing gallery upstairs – I could see Missy and Dennis through the glass, and I thought that might be Sophia behind them. I waved jauntily up at them. Seemed like Carlos wasn't the only teammate curious what my powers were like. I'd have to put on a real show for them.

We nodded, started the fight – and then Aegis shot immediately into the air.

I flew after him, generating crystal as I went. I broke it all into little rocks, and sent it flying at him, trying to trap him in it. But while he wasn't strong enough to smash my crystal, he was strong enough to push it away. He was an agile flyer zooming all over the room, staying close to the ceiling – he just wasn't in a position where I could get a grip on him. I tried to bury him against gravity – pin him to the ceiling or the wall – but he broke free every time. He was just... stronger. My crystal could float, but that meant fighting gravity, which made them weaker. If he were on the ground like last time, I could have gotten him.

All right. Guess I'll have to hit him.

I brought all my crystal back to me, making it orbit around me, with one big chunk going right through me. That was one of the strategies the PRT trainers had suggested, that I'd practiced with them – I could pass straight through my crystal, but Aegis couldn't, which meant I could harass him with it without getting in my own way.

I flew in close and started to brawl. And I got a few good punches in, a few good knocks with my crystal. He was totally unable to attack. He couldn't hit me inside the crystal, and he couldn't break it, either – trying just hurt his hands. But the infuriating thing was, he kept getting away from me – he was just too nimble. I'd never fought against another flyer before – the trainers were all normal humans – and he had years of experience on me. It was a stalemate. A stupid, infuriating stalemate. And Aegis knew it, too, going by the way he kept dancing away from me with that infuriating grin on his face. Ha, ha, he seemed almost to be saying. You can't catch me!

Fuck you, Aegis. I gritted my teeth. Then I picked a big chunk of crystal hanging around by my head and smashed it.

The pink crystal shattered into hundreds of tiny, razor-sharp pieces. I hurled it, the pieces all flying at top speed right toward Aegis's head. He dodged, but that wasn't going to stop me. I smashed another, then another. Two at once. Then three, scattered in strange places – he almost got hit that time, but he dodged at the last moment. I could see the fear in his eyes – I was really winning, and he finally knew it. He finally knew not to mess with me. But I hadn't gotten him yet.

My crystal rocketed up to cover the whole roof of the ring – I did a loop to make a little more. See, I could shatter just as much crystal as I wanted. I could fill the whole damn ring with shards, send them rocketing down from the ceiling to the floor.

Dodge this, asshole.

I started to shatter the crystals, but then—

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, stop!" It was Missy's voice, a little tinny over the ring's speakers – she'd used the intercom. I turned toward the window, glaring. Rules said I had to stop. Didn't mean I liked it. "You broke the shields, Emma – look!" She walked up to the plexiglass windows separating the viewing gallery from the sparring ring, and poked at a sharp piece of gem that was stuck halfway through it. "That's definitely not allowed. You have to stop hurling that stuff around before you actually hurt someone!"

"Yeah, you're not supposed to use anything that can break the shields in here, Emma," Aegis said. His voice was still trembling. He knew he'd only just been spared. He flew up to the windows for a look, then turned around and started to float back down to ground level. "You're probably going to get a chewing out from Piggot – she hates it when this happens. I know you're invulnerable to your crystal, and I'm a Brute, but attacks that can go through the windows are dangerous to everyone outside. The rest of them aren't Brutes, after all."

I groaned, floating back down to the ground as I vanished all my crystal. They were right. I'd stopped playing by their cute little rules. I needed to keep that on the down-low, not show it off in the sparring ring in front of half the team. "Got it," I said. "Won't happen again."

At least not where they could see it.

~~

[ Emma ]

"So I am proud to introduce our newest Ward," Piggot finally said, "Crystalia!"

To the sound of applause, I zoomed out from backstage, leaving a crystal trail behind me as I shot out to stand beside Piggot.

After his first little episode, the image guy had been very cooperative. I loved my name. And I loved my new costume.

For a mask, I wore a visor made of pink crystal almost like my own, but more reflective to hide my identity. It had points shooting upward, like a tiara. And my costume was a dress, black with accents the color of my crystal – yes, it did have some pink, but it was tasteful. It had big crystals at the shoulders, jutting out, and a ring of them around the collar. It was a long dress that hugged my body, embroidered with more crystals along with silver and gold thread, making a geometric pattern along its length.

This – all of this – was exactly what I wanted. This was regal. This was the dress of a queen.

I loved it.

"Hello, everyone!" I said. Then I ran forward, launching myself off the stage and into the air. I flew lazily above the crowd of reporters, turning over onto my back almost like I was swimming, leaving a looping crystal trail above the audience.

I settled into a sitting position, floating there in midair, halfway sticking into a gem and smirking like the cat that got the canary.

"I'm here to fight, to lend my strength to taking down the supervillains and bad guys of Brockton Bay. You can already see some of what I do, and the rest... well, hopefully that you won't have to see in action."

I smashed my crystal, but didn't throw it – instead, I let the shards rain down to just above the crowd's heads and then vanished them.

"You'll see me around," I said, before flying back to the podium. The Wards were all lined up there, and I shook everyone's hands... even if Shadow Stalker wasn't quite willing to meet my eyes yet.

I was a real superhero now. I would rule Brockton Bay. And I felt wonderful.

~~

[ Emma ]

The door of the PRT van slid open, and Sophia and I got out, side by side. I looked at her and grinned. Sophia had been avoiding me ever since I joined the Wards. It was strange – I hadn't actually figured out why yet. But I'd been assigned to have my first real patrol with her, and I was so glad – the rest of the Wards were exactly as dorky as she'd always said, and even though I was better at making nice than she was, there was no one else I'd rather have this patrol with.

Plus, I'd finally have the chance to get her alone.

But she didn't seem to have much to say. I didn't know what to say. After a while of walking, though, the perfect icebreaker presented itself: a bunch of Nazis, just waiting to get brutalized. Sophia may have been acting weird lately, but she definitely still had the old spirit, plus I got a good few hits in, too. But it was over all too soon, when the Nazis all went down and the PRT came to collect them. As the lights flashed and the officers swarmed, Sophia and I slipped off into the shadows.

"So," I said, "what do you think? Powerful enough for you now?"

"Emma..." She looked up at me. It was hard to tell what she was thinking, with her opaque mask, but she definitely seemed morose. "You were always powerful enough for me. You didn't need to become a cape for that."

"Maybe not, but being a cape sure doesn't hurt, now does it?" I grinned, put my arm around her shoulders. "C'mon, Sophia, say it. Say you like it. Please?"

"Your powers are beautiful, Emma, it's just..." Her voice cut off, like she had a frog in her throat. Which was weird – I'd never seen her act this way. "I didn't want you to get them, especially not like this."

"What?" I asked, my mouth dropping open. "You wanted me to stay weak forever?"

"No! Of course not! You were never weak, and... I mean, there's nothing wrong with you having powers, it's just..."

Her voice was choking up. It almost sounded like she was going to cry. But that had to be wrong, didn't it? Sophia never cried. Then she stepped closer, and wrapped me in a bear hug.

"I... I'm so sorry, Emma." she whispered. "I didn't know how much it would hurt you. Please, please forgive me."

"Sophia..." I smiled sheepishly. I didn't know what was happening – was she just embarrassed she was wrong about me? Yeah. That had to be it. But, still, she was overdoing it. "Of course I forgive you. Thanks for admitting you were wrong, but you really don't have to worry about it now. It's done, it's over. I just want my best friend back. I know you've been avoiding me..."

"It was hard to face you," she admitted. She let go of me, but didn't quite manage to look me in the eyes.

"I'm glad you finally did," I said, smiling at her. "So... did you think at all about the other thing I said last time?"

"What?" Sophia sounded incredulous. "You mean... you mean you're still in love with me? You still want to date me? After e-everything that happened?"

I nodded slowly, and she continued, just a little bit quieter.

"I... Emma, of course I love you. I was just surprised then, is all. But..." My heart sank. I wasn't happy to admit it, but it did. "I'm not sure this is the right time – I mean, you've changed so much since then, and I know we haven't been on g-good terms in a while. Maybe we should go slower after what happened, or—"

"You... you really want to reject me?" I said, letting my voice go quiet and sad. "Again?" I wasn't sure why Sophia was beating herself up so bad over this, but I wouldn't be me if I didn't use it to my advantage.

"I d-didn't—" Wow, Sophia couldn't even get the words out. "I just meant maybe we should wait, b-but—"

She took a deep breath, her mask finally pointing right at me.

"But you mean so much to me. I c-can't describe how guilty I felt after what happened, how badly I want to make things up to you," she said, strength finally returning to her voice. "So if this is what you want, then... okay." She stepped forward, swaying just a little, and let her gloved hand graze gently against my arm. "I really do love you, Emma."

"Thank you!" I squealed, hugging her with all my strength — oops, that's lot more strength than it used to be, let's tone that down a little — a significant amount of strength, and kissed her right on top of her mask. "I love you too, Sophia, and I missed you, and I'm so glad to have you back, and I've been waiting so long for this and I'm going to be so happy, thank you, I love you, I— huh? What?"

"Um... tight, Emma." Sophia whispered weakly.

"Oh! Oh, sorry, I really don't know my own strength..." Really, I thought I'd loosened up. I only meant to squeeze her a little. "There you go," I said, loosening it to just an arm around her shoulders once more. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine," Sophia said, her voice gaining strength once more.

"So, you wanna go back to base? I think our shift is over, and I bet we could catch a ride with those troopers – I mean, that's their job, isn't it?"

"Yeah, probably," Sophia said, following behind me as we walked back. "Let's get out of here."

~~

[ Emma ]

I stepped back into my apartment, the door slamming loudly behind me, and spun, dancing around in the entryway as I tossed my keys into their bowl. I was dating Sophia! I was finally dating Sophia. I hadn't convinced her to come home with me tonight – she said her mom expected her back – but I knew I was gonna, especially since this place was only a few blocks from PRT HQ. I mean, talk about an easy commute!

The apartment still felt a little weird. It was nice – big, beautiful, modern – but I just hadn't seen myself moving someplace like this any time soon. I'd actually meant to keep my family home, but selling it made it a lot easier to get my Cauldron vial. Plus, it got kind of... eerie. Empty, with no one there but me. I'd actually sold a lot of stuff, after my parents died. Dad's cars were an easy choice – I could barely drive Mom's, and she had an automatic transmission. Dad's fancy stickshift sports cars were just beyond me, and I wasn't too proud to admit it. I probably needed to buy another one – I'd gotten the insurance money for Mom's, so I could afford it. Someday.

I was just about to slump down onto my couch when my phone rang. I grabbed it – yes, a call from Cauldron! "Hello?" I asked, putting the phone to my ear. "What's up?"

"Good evening, Cleopatra," said the doctor's ever-mechanical voice. "I'm calling to let you know that your Nemesis has completed her first notoriety event and her introduction ahead of schedule. She's introduced herself as the supervillain Bumblebee, and robbed a shop on the Boardwalk earlier this evening."

My eyes widened. "What? She's Bumblebee? Really?" I started to laugh. "Oh, wow, that's amazing! I didn't think even she would be that pathetic. We were just making fun of her at the console back at HQ!"

"You're not at all put off by the fact that she chose to be a humor villain?" the doctor asked.

"No, of course not!" I said, leaning back in the couch. "I'm in this to embarrass her and defeat her, and she just made my life way easier." I giggled. "Wow, a joke villain. I wish I'd thought of that, it's so perfect."

"I see," the doctor said. "There is a video of the event posted to the web, if you're curious to see more about her progress."

"I'll go find it, thanks!" I giggled again. "This is gonna be so good! Is that it, doctor?"

"Yes, that's all," the doctor said. "Good night, Cleopatra."

The call ended, and I grabbed my laptop, Googling for it. The first result for 'brockton bay bumblebee video' was a YouTube clip with a thumbnail of a place I recognized, a trendy ice cream place on the Boardwalk. I clicked, and started to watch.

"—urrender now or face the bees!" said a loud, hammy voice, as the camera pointed down at the floor. My eyes widened. This really is Taylor, I thought to myself.

The person with the camera slowly panned up. There really were a lot of bees – they were easy to see zooming around, one even buzzing right by the camera. And then the picture reached Taylor, and I burst into laughter.

Her costume was even worse than I'd heard from my teammates – it was a yellow-and-black minidress, really short, and with frills! I didn't know Taylor still had that much skin, she hadn't dressed like that in years. She looked ridiculous. She was going to be such a laughingstock. And she was surrounded by not just small bees, but a whole lot of giant ones. You'd think bugs the size of dogs would be scary. You'd think they'd be creepy, or villainous, or even remotely suitable for holding up a store. Not these ones. They were bumblebees, huge and fuzzy, buzzing loudly, wobbling through the air like they were having a hard time even staying aloft. They were ridiculous. I was shocked the "hostages" were keeping straight faces.

"W-what do you want?" asked the cashier. Hah, he actually sounded scared.

"I want... uh..." She peeked at the ice cream fridge for a second. "I'd like the lemon cookie ice cream, please? In a sugar cone?" I laughed, loud and undignified. Distractable much, Taylor? "Oh! Also! All the money in the cash register!" I rolled my eyes. At least she remembered eventually. She held out a canvas bag... wow, it actually had a dollar sign painted on it. What a fool.

The cashier made the ice cream cone first, which meant that Taylor got to lick at it while the cashier shoveled money into the bag.

"Thank you!" Taylor said. Bumblebee, rather – I should get used to the name, it would be awkward if I got it wrong in costume. Besides, it was such a ridiculous name. I just wanted to repeat it all day long. She looked around – and then started to stare. "Oh, come on, what are you doing?" While the camera was focusing on Bumblebee and the cashier, some of the giant bees had gotten into the ice cream fridge, all crowding around one particular tub of ice cream. "Are you... oh... all right, I guess you are hungry. She turned to the cashier. "Can we have that too, please?" She smiled... before apparently remembering that she was a supervillain. "Uh, I mean... give me that, right now!"

"T-take it!" the cashier said, clearly not willing to go anywhere near it with the bees there.

"Maybe set it on the counter? I'm not sure the bees can get it out of there, it looks heavy... C'mon, guys, let him help!" The bees all flew out of the fridge, and the guy finally grabbed the tub and put it down on a table.

The bees all circled around Bumblebee and started buzzing indignantly. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I know you're hungry," she said. "It's just... wouldn't you rather finish that at home? I mean, I can't just stay here, the heroes are going to show up eventually, and... look, he took it out now! Grab it and bring it with us!" Her own minions didn't want to listen to her. So pitiful.

The bees all finally went, orange ice cream smeared all over their big fuzzy faces, and picked up the tub. It took all of them, and they were really, really unsteady, but they managed it, wobbling to the door with the vat of ice cream, bigger than one or two of them put together. The bees flew over to the door, but just started to bump into it helplessly – I giggled, watching them bounce off the glass – but Bumblebee pushed it open for them, and then turned back to the hostages and waved.

"Thank you all so much!" she said. "This was my first robbery, and you've all been so helpful! Have a good night! And, uh, remember – your friends won't beelieve the night you survived Bumblebee! Bye!" Then she stepped out of the door, the smaller bees following in her wake, and ran for it.

Then, and only then, did the whole crowd in the store break out into laughter. I did the same.

That was cute. That was funny. She was so pathetic, it was hard not to laugh. And I was going to love grinding her into dust.

~~~~~~

Thanks for reading, everyone! I'm really appreciating all the interest.

There were lots of omakes posted on SB! Check them out here – I threadmarked them so they're easy to navigate through.

First things first, I do have to admit when reading about Taylor trying to figure out what her theme was going to be and what insects were going to be her minions I was slightly disappointed that Poodle Moths weren't even brought up; but bumbling bumblebees have a lot of potential. Now they just need names...

Click to shrink...

I think they're a bit too pretty for Taylor to use as primary bugs, though they might appear as sidekicks. Her goggles, however, do distinctly resemble the poodle moth's eyes...

I always conceptualized Breaker as the Power Ranger transformation- normal outside of it, defined super power set inside of it, whereas changers were more physical and could do partial changes.

I had forgotten about the thinker rating, myself. Thanks for catching that. Taylor is more mobile, but she's not super fast (slower than 30 mph, definitely), so she can be followed somewhat, which is why I put her as mover 5, rather than 7. I kept the changer and master ratings because I thought of Taylor's power differently; she wasn't the bugs, she could become bugs, control bugs, and turn the bugs she controls into different bugs, but not actually body surf through insect bodies. I don't think she rates a 9, though I admit it's somewhat debatable.

Click to shrink...

Taylor's bodies aren't extraordinarily fast, but she can move her core very quickly if need be.

 

[BeaconHill]

Nemesis
Chapter 6: "Friends and Enemies"​

[ Taylor ]

I finished the last bite of my ice cream cone with a smile, as I sat sprawled across the couch in my lair's break room.

It was late at night, but I couldn't imagine sleeping any time soon – I hadn't even gotten out of my costume yet. I was wired, twitchy with excitement. I'd done it. The heist had gone exactly as planned – maybe even better, since everyone cooperated, nothing went wrong, and they even all laughed at the end.

There'd been a PHO thread about me as soon as I got back to the lair, with a video. Another one had just gone up, from another angle. Good choice, picking a place full of rich kids with smartphones. I knew it was going to turn out well. And the thread was really nice. Sure, there were the usual trolls – some people really hated villains, no matter which villains, and they liked coming up with really inventive ways of expressing it – but, for the most part, the reaction was positive. People liked me. They liked to laugh at me, but that was the point – I was a comedian, after all. And that made me feel pretty good.

Just as important was that there was a lot of interest. People wanted to chat about Bumblebee, even if I'd only just appeared. My thread was already just as long as Crystalia's, and her introduction was days ago – I wondered if Emma would notice that. Probably she'd write it off, say something witty about rubberneckers at a car crash or something like that. She always did have a gift for sneering at me. But the important part was, she was wrong. I knew she was wrong – I'd done the research, and the reactions here were about the same as at other popular humor villains's introductions. Better than some – I hadn't botched anything, hadn't gotten anyone hurt.

Realistically, I could just let the thread roll on at this point. I didn't have to keep reading it – I wasn't going to post anything, and the thread would still be there in the morning. But something stopped me.

It was nice being popular.

My cell phone rang, and I transformed some bugs into the bee that was holding it – I definitely didn't have room for pockets in my costume, so it was a good thing I could hide some equipment in my swarm. The phone was one of the first things I'd bought after I started my barista job – Dad didn't like me having one, but it was way too useful not to have. I flipped it open and checked the caller ID – Cauldron. Surely Emma wouldn't want to fight already, would she?

I pushed the button, and answered. "Hello?"

"Congratulations on completing your first notoriety event," the doctor said, her warm voice muffled just a little bit by the phone connection. "I'd just like to confirm that you have successfully fulfilled the requirements, and additionally let you know that you've earned two notoriety bonuses – you had a video of your crime posted online, which earns you two hundred dollars, and you received a very energetic online reaction, which has just crossed the threshold for earning a hundred dollars. You might earn more, if you get additional online attention or media coverage."

"Thank you," I said. Notoriety bonuses were another part of the Nemesis contract – a way to incentivize me to attract attention above and beyond the minimum requirements. I could earn money just for building my reputation. I'd have to pass on a lot of them – they were mostly tied to hurting people, stealing things, or otherwise being scary in ways I just didn't want to be. But there were a few bonuses based solely around attracting attention, and I was hoping to rack up as many of those as I could. "So there's no problem with my chosen persona?"

"There was nothing in the contract about your persona, no," the doctor said, and I got the distinct sense she was smiling. "Perhaps we should think about adding that next time. But I do have a few questions about how you pulled that off – it certainly looked like you were able to get around your mass limitations."

"Uh... you won't tell my nemesis if I give you more information, will you?"

"No, we won't discuss this with her – this is purely for our own records," the doctor said. "The contractual requirement was that I report to her on your initial power testing. That's over." She paused for a moment, and when she started talking again, she sounded just a little miffed. "Actually, she didn't even listen to my whole report – she hung up on me."

"What?!" I couldn't help but break out laughing, giggling in a very Bumblebeeish way. "How stupid of her!"

"It was definitely a surprise," the doctor said. "People don't hang up on me very often. So?"

"I do have conservation of mass, like you saw in my testing. But I can take control of bugs I didn't create and use them just like they were a part of me, transform them like you saw in the lab."

"And you didn't notice in our testing because Cauldron is kept free of insects," the doctor said, seeming to savor the realization. "Interesting. I never imagined our cleanliness affecting a power test. I'll keep that in mind for the future. Congratulations – with an advantage like that, I'm confident you'll do well."

"I think so." I smiled, even though she couldn't see me.

"Good night, Miriam," the doctor said. "And good luck."

"Good night," I echoed. "Thank you, doctor."

~~

[ Taylor ]

Morning sun streamed in through the windows of the coffee shop, glinting off the machines as I brewed another cup. I'd thought I was going to quit this job as soon as I got my powers – that I'd need the extra time to practice, and that I'd be rolling in cash from my supervillainy. But I probably wasn't going to make a whole lot of money as Bumblebee, and I'd realized something interesting about this particular coffee shop – it was two blocks from the PRT, well within my power's radius, and Emma's new apartment was even closer, which made this the perfect place to eavesdrop from.

I didn't strictly need to have a human body for this – I could just turn to bugs while I listened in. But I figured that if I had to be hanging around downtown anyway, I may as well spend the time making coffee. The owners were flexible about my schedule, so I could show up just in time to eavesdrop on particular meetings.

Besides, I liked this job. After all, I'd made my first friends in years here.

"Here!" Jess said, handing me a plate with a hot pastry. "Liz's order!"

I took that and the cup of coffee and headed out to a table by the window. One of our regulars was sitting there, a young businesswoman in a smart suit. She was very pretty, with long blonde hair and green eyes, though she had a big band of freckles that Emma probably would have mocked her for.

"Here you are, ma'am," I said, gently setting everything on the table before her.

"Thank you," she said lazily. But then she caught my eye for a second and just stared.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"No," she said. "Never mind."

Nodding, I hurried back behind the counter to get the next order ready. It was the morning rush – lots of people buying coffee on their way to work. But, eventually, we had a little time to rest.

"You seem tired," Jess said, leaning back against the counter. "Busy night?"

I rolled my eyes. "C'mon, Jess, you know me better than that. I got stuck in a book. Went to bed way too late. Still better at the coffee than you."

"Yeah, right," she said with a smirk.

Jess was probably my best friend at the shop, and the only girl here who was anywhere near as nerdy as me. Ironically enough, she was the bigger cape geek – aside from my conspiracy kick last spring, I was usually more of a bookworm. She even wrote cape fic, and she kept talking about making a video game – who knew if that would ever happen. She had dark skin and long, shiny black hair. Her parents were immigrants from India, which was one of the reasons we'd become friends – she was way too familiar with pretty white girls sneering at her, so she was there to back me up whenever Emma tried to misbehave.

"You fit any PHO into your scholarly evening?" she asked. "Last night was fun."

I blinked, suddenly thankful my attention was on the coffee – if I'd been looking at her, I probably would have stared. "No, what happened?" You don't really mean me, do you? I knew she would find out about Bumblebee sometime, but... already?

"C'mon, you haven't heard? My parents heard about her already, she was on the morning news!" Jess sounded really enthused. "We finally got a joke villain! Her name's Bumblebee, she's cute and she's ridiculous. We really needed someone like her. Not that I have anything against the home team, but Brockton Bay's cape scene is just way too grim. Hopefully she'll lighten things up."

"Don't we already have Uber and Leet?" I asked, trying not to smile. "They're pretty funny."

"The difference is, she's a joke on purpose. They're jokes because they're incompetent assholes." She scoffed. "I mean, Uber and Leet aren't even good for eye candy."

"Do you choose all your favorite capes by who's cutest?"

"I plead the fifth," she said with a wink.

"So how do you feel about Crystalia, then?" I asked, with some genuine curiosity. How people reacted to Emma could make a big difference in how I fought her. "New hot Ward, am I right?"

"Well..." She shook her head. "I ought to like her? But she's such a huge missed opportunity, I just can't. I mean, she makes pretty pink crystals... and she went for 'dark queen'? Big poofy black dress with huge spiky pauldrons? Boo! I want my magical girl!" I broke out giggling. Jess was funny when she was annoyed. "The chick with the bees went magical girl, she's rocking it, and she's a villain! Don't tell me you're too good for a tutu, crystal chick."

I smiled at her. Good enough for me!

She sighed. "God, I can't believe I've gotta quit in a week." Summer was almost over – it was nearly time for school again. "I'll miss this job. You promise you'll visit me?"

"Of course I will," I said. "You sure your parents won't let you stay on during the school year?"

"No chance – it was hard enough getting them to let me out of the house for the summer. They said, with how much they pay for my education, they don't need me blowing it wasting time on a minimum wage job." She sighed, making puppy-dog eyes at me. "Why don't you come to Immaculata with me? You can get away from those bitches. Plus, you'll get to see how cute I look in the uniform..." She winked theatrically.

I laughed. "Trust me, I'd love to, but my dad and I just don't have the money. He's not paid enough, I'm definitely not paid enough, and I've got no chance at a scholarship with my grades." I sighed. Maybe it wouldn't be impossible – Bumblebee couldn't earn too much from villainy, and even if I maxed out on notoriety bonuses it wouldn't be enough, but maybe I could try merchandising? With all the attention I was getting, I figured I could make some money off a bee plush. Or I could see about contract cape work – I didn't want to do anything that would hurt my reputation, but I could pretend to be a Thinker or a clairvoyant pretty well if I had to...

"Oh," Jess said, "you're thinking about it! I know you're thinking about it. You've got that determined look – I bet you're gonna come up with something."

"No promises," I said. "But I'll keep thinking about it." My head snapped toward the shop door as the bell jangled again. "Welcome to Leblanc!" I called, speaking almost on automatic. Looks like the crowds were back – Jess and I smiled wryly at each other as we got back to work.

Just as something interesting started to happen to some of my other selves.

I'd made sure I was working the morning after my first appearance. I'd been hoping to listen in on analyst chatter, maybe a team leaders' meeting. I was a pretty minor cape, after all, and this was only my first day – they wouldn't pay too much attention, right? Instead, they were having an all-capes meeting – the whole Protectorate was on a video call with the Rig, and the whole Wards were here in the PRT HQ. Even Emma was there – I was sure her reactions were going to be priceless.

I settled in, tiny little bugs positioned to hear and see everything, as they started the meeting.

~~

[ Emma ]

I groaned as I slumped into the PRT HQ meeting room chair. What were they doing, getting me out of bed early? And for Bumblebee? Please, I know how to kick that wimp's ass. I don't need a fucking powerpoint about it.

"Okay," said Colin – Armsmaster – his face larger-than-life on the big videoconferencing screen at the head of the table. "Now that everyone is here, let's begin our meeting. First, a presentation from our analysts."

A dorky-looking analyst guy in our conference room plugged in his laptop, and an image flashed across the VC monitor, right next to the Protectorate's faces. It was Bumblebee – a good clear picture, better than the stuff that got posted to PHO. I giggled, seeing it. That outfit was so ridiculous – I could hardly believe Taylor hadn't died of shame putting it on, especially considering the manky hoodies and baggy jeans she usually wore. I guess somewhere deep down inside there was always a part of her that wanted to be a skank.

"If you've watched the news or checked the Internet today, you've probably already heard of Bumblebee, the supervillain who last night introduced herself by robbing an ice cream shop." He tapped a key, switching to that YouTube video. "Cracking jokes and bumbling, she was nevertheless in and out of the store inside of three minutes with no injuries and very little delay. She was gone before the nearest patrol could get anywhere close. That's a sign of preparation on her part."

I snorted, and a few of my teammates did the same. As if.

"The total value of the theft was less than four hundred dollars – she took all the money in the cash register, along with a cone of ice cream and a half-empty tub of orange sorbet. Needless to say, it's not much of a haul. She's attracted a lot of attention, even after just one robbery – her video went viral online and was featured in the local morning news, and posts about her garnered popularity all over the internet. Accordingly, we've chosen to classify her as a humor villain. If you haven't watched the video yet, you should – it'll give you a much better idea of what she's like." The analyst cracked a smile. "Besides, it really is pretty funny."

"Definitely," agreed Kid Win, and I leveled a glare at him. "Oh, c'mon," he said, "even you have to agree she's a lot better than the other creeps!"

"She's the most pathetic—"

"Thank you, Phil," Colin interrupted, and the analyst unplugged his laptop and sat back down. "Usually when we have villain meetings, they're about the specifics of fighting that particular villain. But Bumblebee has, as far as we know, never fought anyone – naturally, that won't be the subject of this meeting. Instead, we're here to discuss humor villains, and how they require special handling. She's the first in Brockton Bay in several years, so most of you won't know the ropes."

"What's to know?" I asked. "Looks the same as any other villain to me. Find her, beat her, lock her up. It'll be even easier than usual, with her clowning around."

"That kind of misconception is exactly why we're having this meeting," Colin said archly. "First, remember the principle that we heroes should never look scarier than the supervillain. The problem is, Bumblebee is harmless, and that means it is very easy to look too scary." My jaw dropped. They wanted me to play nice? Really? "We expect you to avoid all lethal or grievously harmful attacks against Bumblebee. Don't attack her when she's running away. If you must capture her, do so as gently as possible – containment foam, barriers, and the like."

"You mean we're supposed to watch as she steals, takes hostages, and attacks people?" I said, my voice derisive. "What if she kills someone? Do we just tell her to have a nice day?"

"Not watch," Armsmaster said. "You can try to capture her. Just avoid violence. You have plenty of capture options with your power, don't you?" I rolled my eyes. Unfortunately. "If she attacks, you can respond in kind. If she stings someone, you can start to use low-level attacks. If she attacks someone with a whole swarm, if she pulls a knife or a gun, or if she puts a stinger on one of her giant bumblebees and hits someone with that, then you can step things up a little further. And if she kills or seriously injures someone, you can consider our humor-villain restrictions lifted. But unless she does something, you shouldn't start a fight. Understood?"

"Understood," I grumbled. This wasn't going to be fun. Well, they say rules are meant to be broken, right?

"Second, you're going to have to tone down your banter. I know – I'm sure you love telling supervillains what you think of them. I do, too. And normally it's good for PR – everyone loves to see an Empire cape get taken down a peg or two. But when they're as harmless as Bumblebee is, it's very easy for cape banter to start to look like bullying." And bullying is bad, am I right? I scoffed. Armsmaster was such a fool. Bullies win. Bullies are strong. People might say they don't like us, but here in the real world, they do. They always do. I looked to Sophia – can you believe this moron? – but found, much to my surprise, that she was looking intently at the screen. "Keep it friendly. Keep it nice. Don't say anything you wouldn't say at a kids' event. And if she jokes with you, it's OK to play along."

"I have a question," Gallant said, the pompousness in his voice so thick I could stab it with a crystal. He was the new team leader – Aegis had graduated last week – and he'd gotten insufferable about it. Trying soooo hard to be Armsmaster's pet. I hated him. "What about recruitment attempts? I'd thought, with how harmless she seems to be, that you'd want to target her for Wards recruitment."

Armsmaster smiled. "Yes, I was just about to get to that. She is safe to recruit, for those who have received recruitment training. Just remember, soft sells only."

A few people around the table nodded, and a few more on the other side of the video conference. Not me, though, and not Sophia. Good – I would have hated that.

"Finally, try not to lose. Trust me, you don't want to be on video getting chumped by the girl in the bumblebee dress." Armsmaster smirked. "Humor villains like her always know just how to make it embarrassing."

I snorted. "Like there's even a chance! Seriously, why are you making such a big deal about this?" I rolled my eyes. "If you'd just left it alone, we would have had her caught in a few days. I mean, you don't really think any of us will lose to a wimp like her, right? You wouldn't be a joke like that if you had anything better."

Armsmaster sighed. He did that a lot when he talked to me – I thought he had a grudge. "It's true that some humor villains have powers that wouldn't be good for much else. But many are actually quite powerful, and hide their strength on purpose. Some are fans of other comedy capes, like Dryad or Mouse Protector. Some appreciate the way we handle humor villains with a light touch. Some don't want to be heroes, but also don't want to hurt people the way a real supervillain would. Bumblebee's career has only just begun, so we can't say with any certainty why she does what she does. But making assumptions is a great way to embarrass yourself."

I smirked. I know exactly why she does what she does. "Really, isn't all of this ridiculous? Rolling out the red carpet for a supervillain like this. I mean, am I the only one who remembers that she's a criminal?"

"Yes, we remember. There are two reasons for going easy on humor villains. First: harm reduction. Humor villains are essentially harmless, and we like that. The lighter we go on them, the more of them there are, and the less real villains there are. Second: risk. If we go all out against humor villains, they often become serious ones – they might join gangs, or step up their crimes. And for those humor villains who sandbag, when they go serious, they can be terrifying. Best for all of us to let sleeping dogs lie."

"But... she's not..." I clenched my teeth, grunting. I knew she wasn't a threat. I knew she wouldn't go serious, or at least that I could stop her if she tried. It was Taylor, after all. But I couldn't say so. And that was infuriating.

"Anyone else?" Armsmaster asked. After a few moments of silence, he got that obnoxious little grin of his. "Good. We'll end the meeting five minutes early. Thank you for attending."

Just like that, he stood and left the room. Didn't even wait for questions, he just wanted to run back to his lab, as always. What a jackass.

~~

[ Taylor ]

I frowned at the dirty coffeeshop table before me. Liz had left her plates all over the table. And she'd spilled coffee, and there was a pile of dirty napkins. It was actually a little weird – she was usually one of our most considerate regulars. I started to pick up after her and wipe down the table – and then I found something under her mug. A folded piece of notebook paper, with a sketchy, ballpoint-pen drawing of a bee on the front.

Oh, dear.

I glanced around to see if anyone was watching me, then shoved the note into the pocket of my apron.

It was there, an ominous presence, all through the rest of my shift. I just didn't have enough time or privacy to read it while I was working, and I didn't want to try any power tricks to get it out sooner. So I made more coffee, served more tables, chatted more with Jess. It wasn't til the shift was over that I finally got to read it.

Hello, Bumblebee, the note read in messy print – the curse of those who think faster than they can write. I'm sorry for uncovering your identity – I'm a Thinker, I can't help it. I promise, I mean you no harm. I won't tell anyone who you are, and I'm hoping you'll consider this even if I tell you that I'm Tattletale.

My eyes widened, and I drew a deep breath. Tattletale. The leader of the Undersiders, and a formidable Thinker. Very little was known about her – she'd only appeared in person with the gang a few times, in their very early days. They'd been small-time back when I was reading up on cape conspiracies, but sometime in the early summer, not long after they defeated the Merchants, they took out Coil, too. They'd subsumed his organization, and now they were one of the scariest gangs in the city. They were also, relatively speaking, the least horrible. No bigotry, no killing, and they still financed themselves largely through protection schemes, front companies, and heists, rather than the grimmer trades of the other gangs. When I'd contemplated serious villainy, they were the gang I'd thought about joining.

If this really was Tattletale, it would explain how she found out who I was. But I couldn't trust that yet – Emma could have set this up. Best just to read on, and see if she offered any proof.

I know you're here to spy on the PRT. And that means I have an offer for you. The PRT has gotten better at keeping me out of their networks lately, and my best source has become unavailable. I'd be willing to pay you for the information you're already overhearing, and I can offer you more contract work if you're interested. All of this is no strings attached – you can refuse any job and walk away at any time. And you won't have to associate this with your Bumblebee identity.

This was a nice offer, if I could believe it. Extra money, without getting into anything too dirty.

I don't expect you to blindly trust a piece of paper you found in a pile of soiled napkins, so trust this: the Undersiders will make a public statement this evening containing the phrase 'that blithering, bumbling little bug who named herself Bumblebee.' I snorted – she was hiding her message to me inside of overheated supervillain bluster. Once you've seen it, text me at (508) 150-4944. I look forward to working with you.

Ta ta, the letter ended, trailing off with a flourish.

I burst into a cloud of insects, sent my core heading for home. I had a lot to think about.

~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! We've had many wonderful omakes since the last chapter, both on SB and SV – please do check them out, they're wonderful!

I have to give a special shoutout to Coshiua 's fanart – they drew four different versions of Bumblebee! (1, 2, 3, 4. I love the last version of the costume – it's pretty much perfect.

If anyone is interested in making fanart, please do feel free to reach out to me for details on my character designs!

 

[BeaconHill]

Nemesis
Chapter 7: "Fun and Games"​

[ Emma ]

"Thank you!" I called, smiling and waving at the big crowd of happy kids. I waved my hand over my head, summoning a long strand of crystal, and then shattered it in just the right way to make the shards sparkle, catching the light as they floated through the air. "Goodbye, everyone! Call if you see any supervillains!"

"Goodbye, everyone!" said Clockblocker. He waved, too, as we turned around and headed for the exit. PR event over – unfortunately, we couldn't stay any longer than the schedule said.

Our PRT officer minders led us down the mall's back hallways, through a door that claimed to be an emergency exit.

"I'm surprised you liked that so much," Dennis said, as the door shut behind us and we stepped out onto the roof of the parking garage. The PRT van was parked right in front of the exit, blocking us from view. Its big sliding door opened automatically as we walked. "I mean, you never seemed big on PR before." I winced. Apparently the Image guy talked or something – that little piece of gossip had been going around the past few days. "Unless you're just a really good actress?"

"C'mon, Clock, those kids adored us! How could I not love PR events like that?" I smiled at him, and I thought I only let a little irritation show through. "Sure, I don't like dealing with the Image guy – I don't want to be told how to look or act or fight – but this had nothing to do with that. It really was wonderful – what's not to like?"

"I don't know, but Shadow Stalker can't stand these things," he said. "Dealing with civilians pisses her off. I thought you'd be more like her." We stepped into the van and closed the door behind us. Dennis took his helmet off instantly, running his hand through his hair and panting, just a little. He had a full helmet, and he was always complaining about it – apparently, it got a little hot under there.

"You're thinking about Sophia the wrong way," I said, getting settled in my seat – PRT vans were actually really nice, super soft chairs – before turning back to Dennis. "Think about her more like Armsmaster. He loves Tinkering so much he doesn't bother doing most other things. Sophia is a lot like that – she really, really loves fighting, and connected things like physical fitness and track, and she doesn't want to bother with anything else, like PR visits. It's not like she hates it or anything – it's just a waste of time to her. I do understand her – I love fighting too – but that's not the only thing I care about, not like her."

Dennis raised an eyebrow as the van lurched into motion, rolling through the twists and turns of the parking garage. "Huh," he said. "You know, that makes a lot of sense, Sophia as like an angry fighter girl version of Armsmaster. I don't know why I never thought of that." A smirk started to spread across his face. "I wonder if I can get the whole team to call her—"

"I cannot be held responsible if she punches you," I said with a grin.

"So I can't just pass it on?" He gave me a big, exaggerated wink, and we both laughed.

~~

[ Taylor ]

Wind rushed through my blonde wig as I zoomed through the air atop a giant bee. It really wasn't the most fun to ride – normally, bees could barely lift themselves. It took a lot of tinkering to get one that could lift a whole human body, and even then, it was painful. And an unpleasant ride. My favorite riding bugs were giant dragonflies, but that wouldn't really be on-theme – the whole reason I was doing this was to try and hide my swarm teleportation just a little longer.

I zoomed over a little forested area and into my destination: the big grassy field of a city park, a nice one not too far from Emma's old house. It was crowded on a pleasant summer Saturday, full of people playing games or goofing off or just enjoying the weather.

People started to point and stare as I zoomed overhead. Not surprising – it wasn't every day that you saw a supervillain, and even though my introduction had gone well, people would probably still be a little scared of me for a while. Hopefully today would help.

I landed with a thump on the grass, and my human body stepped off, letting my bee fly back into the air before I split into four smaller (but still pretty giant) bees. One of those bees held something in her legs – a white plastic disc with a very goofy-looking bee hand-painted onto its surface. I dropped it into my human hands and grinned.

"All right, girls!" I said. "Time to play some Fris-Bee!"

My bees all spread out into a circle, eagerly bouncing up and down. I tossed to the bee on my left, and she had to lunge for the disc, showing her belly as she grabbed it with her legs. Then she had to wind up and spin before tossing it to the bee opposite her.

As it turned out, it was actually really difficult to get bees to throw and catch these things – I'd been practicing for days. The Frisbee was about as big around as their head, so it was awkward to handle at all, but even worse was that Frisbees had to be thrown with spin. Bees don't have arms, so they actually had to spin around, in midair, to throw them properly. Of course, they looked ridiculous – which was exactly what I wanted.

Sure enough, people started to gather around. It wasn't long before one particularly bold kid walked up to me.

"Hey," she asked. "Can I play?"

"Of course! But please, call me Bumblebee! And be gentle with the bees" — I lowered my voice to a stage whisper — "they're not very good at Frisbee yet!"

What dastardly deed was I hoping to commit, playing Frisbee with kids in a public park? Simple: nothing. I'd already done my notoriety event for the week, and stunts like this let me build my reputation without the risks of committing an actual crime. In fact, making crimeless appearances was a great way to look really, really harmless – there were only a few villains who ever did this.

It wasn't long before I had a big circle of players, plus more people standing on the outside videotaping the whole thing. Then a car pulled up at the parking lot behind us, and it was all I could do to keep my mouth from dropping open. I'd trained myself to expect anything, and I'd certainly practiced for a lot of possibilities. But I never really thought Gallant was going to pull up in a PRT van in his full armor, and walk up to my little circle of people.

He wasn't going to start anything, was he? Especially after the Wards were told to go easy on me?

I tossed myself the Frisbee – a bee had gotten it – and then turned around to face him.

"Hi!" I said. "Gallant, right? I've never actually gotten to talk to a real hero before!"

Gallant was the leader of the Wards team. He was supposed to be a Tinker, but my eavesdropping revealed that he was really some kind of Thinker. Not nearly as powerful as Tattletale, but still dangerous enough. He could read me, read my emotions. And that was... worrisome.

"I don't have to run away now, right? Or fight?" I tilted my head, trying to look worried. "I know I'm a supervillain, but I'm not really good at fighting, and I don't want anyone to get hurt..."

"Why would I?" he asked. "You're not committing any crime out here, are you?"

"O-of course not!" I said, smiling nervously at him. On the inside, though, I was triumphant. He wasn't going to try anything. Excellent.

"Actually, I'd like to play," he said, a sheepish smile visible under his visor.

"Sure!" I said. "But... uh, can I have your autograph first? Please?" A bee only a few times larger than normal flew in holding a Sharpie bigger than he was. I took it before holding it and the Frisbee to Gallant. "I'm a huge fan."

"Oh, uh—" I could see a little hesitation there – evidently they hadn't trained him on supervillains asking for autographs. "Of course," he said, signing with a flourish before adding 'to Bumblebee' at the end. Evidently he wasn't easy to throw off. He tried to hand it back to me, but I stepped away, raising my hands and grinning. He caught my drift and tossed it back to me.

I tossed the Frisbee on, and he joined the circle, standing just to my left. And we played quietly together for a while. I figured he'd have to do something else heroey sometime, though, and he finally turned to me just after tossing the Frisbee to one of my bees.

"So, Bumblebee," he said gently, "have you ever considered joining the Wards?"

"What?" I turned to him, looking surprised and offended. "I can't join the Wards, I'm a dangerous supervillain! I'm really scary! I'll make a bee sting you if you don't believe me!" I really was surprised – I knew they'd okayed recruiting me, but doing it on public, on video, was surprising. They'd only done that a few times before, and then only for very young or very harmless supervillains. I guess I qualify, so that's fair. But I wish I'd overheard the meeting where they approved this.

"Yes, you're very fearsome," he agreed, smiling politely. "But if you don't want to fight, and you don't want anyone getting hurt, the easiest way to do that is to be a hero. I'm sure you have good intentions, but it's way too easy for people to get hurt like this."

"How?" I said, striking a quiet, contemplative tone. "Are you worried I'll hit someone with the Frisbee?"

"You know that's not what I mean," Gallant said with a smile. "Robbing an ice cream store isn't good, Bumblebee, but it's only one mistake. A lot of people think that after one crime, you have to be a supervillain forever, but that just isn't true. We would still accept you, if you wanted that."

"I'm sorry, I just... I don't think so." I smiled awkwardly. "I just... I love supervillainy. It's so much fun. Like, I had no idea it could be this much fun. I'm a huge fan of the Wards, but I'll get to see you around all the time anyway, won't I? And, I mean, I'm sure you'll catch me someday, and maybe I can join the heroes then. But, until then, uh..."

I struck a defiant pose, pointing my finger right at Gallant's mask.

"You'll find it's not so easy to defeat the terrible Bumblebee! Catch me if you can, superhero!"

Gallant stared at me, not sure how to react. And I started to laugh, shaking and trembling and bending over.

"Oh my god, that was so cool! I can't believe it, that went just like I always imagined..." I finally looked up – and then my jaw dropped. Gallant had stepped closer, and he was standing right there. I did a hasty, awkward backstep. Planned, of course – my bugs all saw him coming. But it looked ridiculous. "Uh... Oops, sorry, I gotta go!"

My bees all merged back together and flew up behind me – one of them had the Frisbee, so I'd be able to take it with me.

"Bye, everyone!" I said as the bee started to lift off, and Gallant didn't come after me. "I promise I'll come play more Frisbee sometime soon, okay?" Most of the crowd smiled and waved goodbye, as I flew off into the distance.

I hadn't expected that, but it went pretty well, I thought.

~~

[ Emma ]

I stood on my balcony, my hair ruffling in the summer breeze. I'd been messing with my outfit for at least the past hour, but I thought I'd finally gotten my outfit right. Tonight was my first date with Sophia. No wonder I was nervous, right?

But there was still a while before it was time to go pick her up, so... I sat down, and then pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed Cauldron.

"Hello?" the doctor asked.

"Hello," I said. "It's Cleopatra – I'd like to arrange my first Nemesis fight."

"Already?" she asked. "The first week isn't even over yet."

"Yeah, I know, but Bumblebee's been busy. First the notoriety event yesterday, now this ridiculous Frisbee thing. I think she's made enough of a name for herself to have our first fight, and honestly, I'm tired of waiting. Besides, I'd have to give her a week's notice, right? That's enough time."

"Reasonable. What arrangements do you want us to make?"

"Uh... I was hoping for some advice on that, actually," I said. "On what the first encounter should be, and how best to fight her. I'm not sure I understand what her powers are – the PRT says she might be sandbagging, a lot."

"Oh? I thought you weren't interested in her powers. You did hang up on me last time I discussed the subject with you." She sounded distinctly annoyed. Which was not good.

"Right..." I had done that, hadn't I? Crap. "Look, I'm really, really sorry, you just caught me at a bad time!" I said. "I'd just run into my best friend, the most important person to me in the world, and I hadn't seen her in months... I really had to talk to her, okay?"

The doctor was silent on the other end of the line.

"I mean, the contract doesn't say you can only tell me once, does it? I can ask again, right?"

"Yes, you can," the doctor agreed, her voice warming up just a little. "And I appreciate the apology. What do you want to know?"

"Well, I'd just like all the details again, but also, Bumblebee's power doesn't seem much like you said last time – what's going on?"

"All right," the doctor said. "But remember, the only power analysis results we can share under your contracts are the ones from her initial testing. Anything we've learned since, we can't share. We can, however, try to help you connect her public appearances to our observations."

"All right, I get it, you can't tell everything," I said. "But, I mean, there's a pretty big mismatch here, right? Bumblebee is a Master with dorky giant bees that only sorta listen to her. That sounds more like Hellhound than anything – why did you tell me that she was a Changer?"

"The most likely answer is that she's not a Master at all – that she is indeed an insect Changer, as her test results said, and the giant bees' buffoonery is simply an act."

"I see." I frowned. Cleverer than I'd expect from Taylor. "So, how many of those giant bees can she make?"

"In our initial testing, she wasn't able to increase her size," the doctor said. "Conservation of mass applied. It's unclear, from that data, how she's gotten enough extra mass to make her bees while still maintaining a human body."

"Hmm." I leaned back in my deck chair, a nice metal rocking chair that I loved to hang around in. This would take some thought. "Can she make herself thinner to make more bugs?"

"She did demonstrate something of the sort, yes," the doctor said.

"Then I get it!" I said. "She's making herself fatter, then burning it off as bugs!"

"That might be possible, yes."

"Hah, she must be eating a ton to make all those. Is that why she stole all that ice cream? Oh, this just keeps getting better and better. Taylor got super fat powers. I couldn't have come up with that if I tried." Then I sat back and thought for a moment. "How powerful could that be?" I asked, my voice a bit more muted. "Increasing her size?"

"It depends just how big her swarm can get. We can't share any information on that, unfortunately. As a worst-case scenario, however, you can imagine insects the size of buildings, or perhaps biblically large swarms."

"But she can't use all that as a humor villain, can she? Not without ruining her reputation."

"Yes, that's true," the doctor said. "She's unlikely to do anything that would impact her reputation. That does, however, complicate things when designing your first encounter. Would you like to work on that?"

"It's why I called," I said. "What do you think I should do?"

"Our recommendation for your first encounter would be to ask her to steal something big that you could then take back while letting her flee. You would be very clearly cast as the hero in that situation, despite humor villains' inherent advantages – there would be a tangible crime for you to combat, avoiding an appearance of beating up on a hapless, harmless villain."

"Okay, that works. What happens if she just drops whatever she took and runs, though?"

"The no-retreat clause prevents that – she can't run or give up her stolen items for either ten minutes after the scheduled start time or five minutes after you enter the fight, whichever comes sooner."

"Right, I forgot that applied to loot too," I said. "What do we make her steal?"

"The contract doesn't allow you to request a specific item stolen. But it does allow you to specify a place. Perhaps the local art museum?"

I grinned. "Yes. Yes, that sounds perfect."

~~

[ Emma ]

I sat side-by-side with Sophia on the bench, snuggling together under the dark sky, holding hands and watching the waves crash down on the beach. The sun was just starting to set, the whole Boardwalk bathed in a dusky orange glow, but it was still very warm, with a pleasant sea breeze blowing against our skin. We'd finished our burgers, but I was still working on my milkshake – nice and thick, made from delicious ice cream and chocolate syrup. Everyone talked about the burgers on the Boardwalk, but forget those. The milkshakes were where it was at.

"Oh, hey, Emma!" called a familiar voice. Someone from school. Kristie, I thought. "Ooh, and Sophia! I thought you two were fighting!"

"I... I told you," stammered Sophia, "it wasn't like a big fight or anything, and we've made up—"

She didn't get to finish the sentence, as I leaned across the bench and kissed her, right on the lips.

"Well, more than made up, I guess," Sophia said, looking embarrassedly at me as Kristie started to squeal.

"Oh my god!" she said, smiling big and wide. "You two are so cute together – you're gonna be, like, the queens. The queen and the queen. Wow, that's so cool – I gotta go, but I'm so happy for you!" She ran off, getting her phone out as she went. I was sure she'd be texting furiously, busy breaking the news to every single one of our friends. I didn't really care.

"So, how does it feel to be the queen?" I said, smiling at Sophia.

"Like that's supposed to be new?" Sophia grinned, and I grinned back. "It's getting late. I've got no patrols tonight, but I'm tired... you think it's time to go?"

"Y-yeah," I said. "Where to?"

"Home, please," Sophia said quietly. She stood, and I followed, leading her to a little parking lot with a chain link fence just off the Boardwalk. I paid, then led Sophia over to my car, a dark silver sedan sitting at the edge of the lot.

Yes, I'd finally stopped dragging my heels and bought a car, a Volvo. I really did need one, living all by myself. It was expensive, though not as expensive as the ones my family used to have, and not as nice. But it was really, really safe, and after what happened, that was really, really important to me. I didn't need it myself – I was a Brute, I could wreck my car and walk away no problem – but what about the people I drove around with? What about Sophia or Madison? No, I needed a safe car.

And, apparently, the PRT helped out with insurance. They really were convenient.

"How was it?" I asked as we got inside. "Our first date."

"I loved it," Sophia said. "Spending time with you again. I feel... closer to you, and I like that. There's just one thing... I mean, it wasn't really all that different from what we used to do before we started dating. Hanging out like old times, just the two of us, out on the Boardwalk or downtown or at the mall..."

"Your point?" I said with a smirk as I started the car again.

She sighed. "I suppose I really should have caught on sooner," she said, as the car zoomed out onto the main road, heading for the Docks.

As I drove, though, a quiet awkwardness started to set in. I thought I knew why – there was still something unresolved between us after the fight we had. I knew there was something bothering Sophia still. She hadn't explained it before, but maybe I could convince her now...

"So... you never did explain why you didn't talk to me after I joined the Wards. I know you were nervous, but..."

"I thought you would be angry with me, after what happened," she said, looking down at the dashboard.

"I was never angry at you," I said. "I love you. I was angry... that I wasn't strong enough. Not just for you. I wasn't strong enough for me. I wanted to be stronger, and I wasn't."

"You are the most important person in the world to me," Sophia said. "You always have been. I was devastated when you stopped talking to me. I missed you. I... I think if you'd come to me, sometime in those two months, I would have done anything for you."

"I know," I whispered. "I just... couldn't."

Sophia shook her head. "I felt the same way, when you showed up at HQ that first time. I thought you'd never want to talk to me again, after I... I..." Her voice lowered to a whisper, even in the privacy of my car. "After I made you trigger."

Oh. A pit sank into my stomach as I thought about it. That would explain the reaction. It made me a little sick to imagine her thinking of me that way, but it made sense. It was what I might think, if I didn't know I'd bought my powers. And since Sophia couldn't know that – I couldn't tell her, and she'd be so mad if I did – I'd probably be better off just sticking to the story, no matter how much I might hate it.

"It's not your fault," I said. "You didn't push yourself away. I did that. I... I think I got a little crazy for a while there. After my parents died, after I stopped talking to you, I was so isolated... I mean, I had other friends, but no one was like you. No one ever has been. I love you, Sophia."

Sophia nodded, smiling shyly. But then she looked outside – I'd just turned onto her street.

"You sure you don't want to come home with me?" I said, as I parked the car in front of Sophia's house. "Visit my new place? You could even stay the night if you want – the new couch turns into a bed, or, uh... you could also..." My cheeks heated up, as I realized just what I'd started blurting that out. I mean, I hadn't finished, but... god, what if I creeped her out again?

But Sophia just smiled. She undid her seat belt... and then leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. I'd kissed her before – of course I had – but she'd never started it before, and... "Soon," she whispered, as she drew away from the kiss. I didn't know my blush could get any hotter, but somehow it did. "I love you, Emma. Good night."

"G-good night, Sophia!" I blurted, my tongue suddenly unable to move. She looked to be enjoying herself as she got out, shutting the car door gently behind her.

I watched her go up the steps and into her house. I waited a few moments – watched the lights turn on inside – before I finally put the car back in drive and headed home.

~~~~~~

Oh my goodness, I cannot say enough how much I appreciate everyone who liked, commented, wrote omakes, or drew fanart. This is really overwhelmingly cool!

In omakes, I got a mind-boggling twenty on SpaceBattles since the last chapter, and three more on Sufficient Velocity!

In fanart, Abyranss on SB, Materia-Blade on SB, and Lifeofgesture on SB all drew Bumblebee. I also got a movie poster from Aurora Moon on SV and a drawing of one of Taylor's bees from Metaphorical Grapevine on SB! And, finally, I got a drawing of Crystalia from Coshiua and a scene of Bumblebee playing in a park with some bees from YunYunHakusho and RDavidson! Especially relevant considering that Taylor really did go to a park this time.

I am really amazed and overwhelmed with all this interest – thank you so much!

Since I've updated two Mondays in a row, I think I'm going to go ahead and make it official – Monday is Nemesis's update day, and I'll try to keep going with one chapter every week from now on. Also, expect a new Morning Worm from me sometime in the next few days – it'll be pretty different in tone from this, though...

On an unrelated note, BeaconHill could you please Threadmark that reply post where you stated that Taylor can't do skin mites or sea creatures? People keep thinking she can.

Click to shrink...

Well, she definitely can't do skin mites – I'm saying that here in a chapter post so people will see it. But I might change my mind and re-add sea creatures – they haven't really been touched on in the story.

 

[BeaconHill]

Nemesis
Chapter 8: "One Week's Notice"​

[ Taylor ]

I fell backwards onto the hard concrete floor, twitching, gasping for air with a knife stuck through my chest. As I burst into butterflies, my other body did a neat little victory dance.

I'd been practicing my knife defense, and I thought things were going pretty well.

Yeah, I was invincible, but that didn't mean I wanted to show it off. Healing myself in a puff of butterflies, while entirely possible, would be a great way to clue the PRT in on some parts of my power they don't know about just yet. So I needed to know how not to get stabbed, in order not to let anyone know that I could survive being stabbed. Plus, fighting someone hand-to-hand would hopefully seem less scary than swarming them with bees, if I was good enough to do it without hurting them. I wasn't all self-taught – I spent a good bit of time at the gym. But that was only sparring – it wasn't enough to prepare me for real fights. I could heal, but my partners didn't know that, and besides, they couldn't. So the only way to practice real fights was with myself, because I could hurt or be hurt however I wanted. It wasn't always fun, and often quite painful – but I was learning a lot, too.

My body reappeared in a puff of butterflies – naked, because I'd realized a few fights back that there was no point slashing a perfectly good set of clothes to ribbons doing knife practice. I could heal myself, but I couldn't heal my wardrobe. Besides, there was no one else around here to see me but myself. I got ready, preparing to fight – and then the phone rang.

Sighing, my naked body vanished into a puff of butterflies, the bee with the phone forming out of the swarm. I flew it over to my other body, who then dropped the knife and took the phone. I checked the screen for just a second before answering. This was Cauldron's number. Interesting. I wasn't expecting to hear anything from them.

"Hello?" I asked, flipping the phone open.

"Hello, Miriam," said the faintly tinny voice of the doctor. "Congratulations on maxing out your notoriety bonus for this week – you earned another eight hundred dollars from the public exposure for your fris-Bee stunt, maxing you out at fifteen hundred dollars for the week. You'll be able to earn further bonuses starting Tuesday."

"Thank you!" I said. "So the contract doesn't require crimes to be committed in connection with the exposure bonuses?"

"Indeed it does not," the doctor said. "I am also calling to notify you of your first Nemesis fight. Your client has chosen to schedule your fight next Sunday afternoon at 3PM, just over a week from now."

I blinked. "Already? Isn't it early for that?"

"It is significantly earlier than the first fight on the model timetable, yes. However, your client is eager to proceed, and the recommendations bear no actual force." She paused for a second, and when she continued, she had a wry tone. "She did compliment your work raising your profile. That likely played a role in her decision to schedule your fight so early."

"Wonderful," I muttered. "Glad she's a fan."

She laughed softly. "Congratulations. Now, the contract allows your client to specify the place and character of your pretext crime, and she has requested that you perform an art theft at the Brockton Museum of Art."

I pursed my lips, thinking. "Okay. That's fairly classic. It'd be in keeping with my persona, so it wouldn't be odd for me to do it, but she'd still look like the good guy if she took the art back from me. But you can't make me steal anything specific, right? Does that mean I can take all the T-shirts from the gift shop?"

"No, that would not be permitted," the doctor said. "We are allowed to request a particular character to your pretext crime, which in this case is art theft – stealing a piece of artwork on exhibition at the museum."

"Okay..." I frowned. Not an enormous amount of latitude there. "So I don't have to succeed at this theft – in fact, you don't want me to, so Emma can take the art back. But do I have to be able to succeed at the theft? Like, if I try to steal something that's bolted to the wall, and I don't have any way to cut the bolts, so I couldn't possibly succeed."

"You need to be believably trying," the doctor said. "But your bumbling persona should give you a certain allowance for sloppiness. Just make sure it looks plausible. Remember, you can check plans with me ahead of time to ensure they match the contract rules."

"And you won't tell Emma what they are?"

"I am not allowed to do so, under the terms of the contract," the doctor said. "Does that mean you have a plan to share?"

"I've got some ideas, but I don't think I'm ready to make a plan just yet," I said. "I'll do some observation at the museum and then get back to you, if that's acceptable?"

"Of course. You don't have to discuss your plan with me at all – it would just be a good idea if you're planning to bend the terms of the contract."

"And I might be," I said with a grin. "Thank you, doctor. Is that all?"

"It is," she said. "Good luck, Miriam."

She hung up with a click, and the moment I did, my bodies burst into bugs as I sent my consciousness out quickly through the insects of Brockton Bay, heading downtown as fast as I could.

This was big. This was scary. I didn't think I was ready – I wasn't expecting to get this call for another week or two. But I could do this. I'd made two public appearances that had gone wonderfully, and I'd have another one or two under my belt before the fight. And I had a whole week to plan and strategize.

I arrived at the museum, started gathering more bugs – to survey the place, look at the collection, look at where people went and what the guards did and how the alarms worked. To make my plan. I had no idea what I was going to do, but I was determined. I was going to make this work.

If you think you're going to come out of this looking good, Emma, think again.

~~

[ Emma ]

I smiled at Sophia as we hopped rooftops down by the Boardwalk, a cool breeze ruffling my hair. Another night patrolling together. I couldn't get enough of it.

Sophia didn't like most of the Wards, and she wasn't shy about letting them know. I heard she'd been way worse about it before I joined. That meant none of them wanted to patrol with her. I was nicer to my fellow Wards than she was – they weren't that bad, and there was no reason to burn bridges, they were all powerful in their own ways – but, still, they all knew I was dating her, and it wasn't exactly hard to figure that I'd rather patrol with my girlfriend. End result: we patrolled with each other a lot more often than you'd think. Exactly how we wanted it.

Still, it was pretty quiet. There'd been some fireworks earlier this year – Bakuda had fought Lung for leadership of the ABB, so the fireworks were actually pretty literal – but things had settled back into normalcy, with the relatively sedate Undersiders taking a dominant role after destroying Coil and the Merchants, and Bakuda's ABB retreating into the background a little.

... Yeah, I know, I'm kind of a cape geek. Stuff like this, just start me up and watch me go. I couldn't even blame my powers, I'd been this way since I met Sophia. Good thing my other friends never found out – Madison alone would have been way more than I could deal with.

Then a scream rang out in the night air, and we both turned and ran toward it.

It was a few blocks down, just on the border between the Boardwalk and the Docks. There was a gang of five Empire thugs down there, all circled around two girls a year or two older than me, one of them holding up a cameraphone with trembling hands. One was white, which was odd, but the other was Asian... oh, and they were holding hands.

I gritted my teeth, my stomach lurching, and I jumped from the roof without even waiting for Sophia. As I fell, I raised my hands, curling them into fists. I pulled them back for just a second and then punched out, sending spiky crystal versions of my fists flying out toward them.

No, I couldn't push my crystal with huge amounts of force using my power... but they were heavy, and they had a Brute punch's worth of momentum behind them.

They clocked two Nazis right in the back of their necks, and they fell to the ground, unconscious. Hell yeah, I was good at this.

"Cape!" called one of the others. But it was too late. Sophia dropped one with a tranq bolt from up on her rooftop, while I flew at ramming speed into the other two, sending them sprawling against a wall.

Five Nazis, fifteen seconds. Not bad at all.

"Are you all right?" I asked, walking up to them, letting Sophia secure the handcuffs and then walk up to stand by my side. "Did they hurt you?"

"N-no," stammered the Asian girl. "Not yet, anyway. We were together... we were holding hands, b-b-but I thought that would be safe so close to the Boardwalk – I mean, it wasn't like we were kissing or anything, we were just together... and then they cornered us... I... I..."

I could see tears forming in her eyes, and I smiled reassuringly.

"Don't worry. We won't let them hurt you, and..." I said, reaching gently out to grab Sophia around the waist. She turned at first, startled – but then she giggled under her mask, tilting her head in a way that I had long since learned to interpret as rolling her eyes. "I promise, we understand." Then I leaned in and kissed her, right on her costume's silly little hood.

The girls started to coo, their smiles absolutely radiant. I loved it.

~~

[ Taylor ]

I materialized, condensing out of bugs in my usual back alley by the coffee shop. It was a lot faster than walking. Definitely one of my favorite parts of my power – I could get to the other side of the city in just a few seconds if I wanted to. But I hadn't just made one body this time – I made two.

My usual self was there, black clothes with an apron, ready to go to work. But the other was aged up, early 20s, with trendy clothes, sunglasses, and straightened, bleached-blonde hair.

I'd been working on disguises, and this was one I liked. You could still see the resemblance – I hadn't done anything really dramatic – but I looked more like two sisters than the clones I really was.

My bodies went their separate ways, my younger self going through the back door into the shop, my older self stepping out onto the street. That version of me turned, walked past the coffee shop's front door and toward the glass entrance of the office building it was in.

I took a little plastic card from my purse, tapped it to the card reader by the door, and it unlocked, opening with a click. Another tap of the card, and I was on the elevator, heading for the fifth floor. A third and final tap unlocked the door of an office.

I grinned as I pushed open the door.

It was vacant, disused. A sign by the door read Kamikazi Zen – a video game company that had gone bust. But a lot of the furniture had been left behind, desks and chairs and couches and art, even if a lot of it was dusty or askew or broken. And something new had been added: laptop computers, four stations, set up at the old work desks. No, it wasn't much to look at, but it didn't have to be.

Tattletale wanted me to eavesdrop on the PRT. She wanted me to transcribe their meetings live, as they happened. I needed someplace safe to do that, and she provided. As long as I kept working with Tattletale, this would be my new downtown lair.

I walked to the back wall and opened the window. It faced out toward the alley, so no one would see as I brought a whole swarm of insects inside. They turned into more bodies, each dressed in a different set of clothes – Bumblebee in her usual bee outfit, a casual-outfit Taylor and another disguise self, this one a version of myself aged up to fifty years old with a wrinkled face and greying curly hair tied back into a long ponytail. It might seem strange, but it made perfect sense – after all, the more bodies I had, the faster I could type.

All four of my bodies sat down at the work desks, flipping open their laptops in synchrony. Each had been loaded with a chat app. Almost immediately, a message bubble popped up.

TT: Hey there, Bumblebee. Settled in OK?
BB: Yep, looks great. Thanks for getting all this together for me, Tattletale.
TT: And thank you for the information. You won't believe how annoying it's been to get another mole into the PRT. Now I don't have to.
BB: What meetings do you want?
TT: I'll offer $2,500 for the leads meeting, $1,500 for the analyst meeting, and $1,000 for Piggot's call to the mayor. Think you can get all three?
BB: Not going anywhere. I'm your girl.

I'd gotten familiar with the PRT's usual meetings over my near-month of eavesdropping. The leads meeting had the leaders and usually the seconds-in-command of the Protectorate, the Wards, and the PRT. Piggot, Renick, Gallant, Clockblocker, Armsmaster, and Miss Militia. The analyst meeting and the mayor call were regular events, too – I loved working Monday mornings because all these meetings happened in quick succession, and with my new deal with Tattletale, that meant five grand. Not bad for a few hours of work. Sure as hell beat minimum wage down at the coffee shop. Plus there were more meetings I thought I might be able to sell her...

BB: Is that it? There's probably gonna be an Undersiders task force meeting, there usually is on Monday morning. Not interested?
TT: Oh? I might be. Let me know when it happens and who's there, and I'll make you an offer.

All right, fair enough. My bugs sought out the meeting schedule.

It was almost time for the leads meeting to start, and before too long I was transcribing two meetings at once, all four of my bodies up here eagerly tapping at the keys. And... honestly, I was feeling a little guilty about this. I had absolutely no compunctions about helping the Undersiders against the other gangs – I could say without reservation that they were the least of all possible evils. But helping them against the PRT... didn't feel so good.

Still, this was about as harmless a way to earn cash as I could possibly find. I could make tens of thousands of dollars in just a few days, while stealing nothing and hurting no one. Even my stunts as Bumblebee came with a little risk, so this was probably the safest thing I'd ever done as a supervillain. It didn't have to be long-term – Tattletale was obviously angling for that, but our deal was strictly pay-as-you-go, no contract locking me in. And, ultimately, I needed the money.

Besides, it really was easy. Maybe even good practice. Before too long, I settled into my routine, transcribing meetings upstairs, making coffee downstairs. It was an interesting way to multitask, especially when I had one of my bodies start researching for my heist in my downtime. Plus it was pretty hard keeping up with the PHO's Bumblebee thread – maybe I needed to do this more often.

"Hey, Taylor," Jess said, coming up behind me from the back room, and I smiled and turned toward her. She'd gotten in late this morning – she was only taking the lunch shift today. "How's it going?"

I shrugged. "Pretty boring shift. Crowds weren't too bad. But, uh... remember that conversation we had last week, about how I couldn't go to Immaculata?"

Her eyes opened wide, her mouth falling into a big smile.

"I think I might have worked something out," I said with a grin. "Not for certain yet – I'm still talking to the school – but I think I can pay for it, and—" I couldn't get the rest of that sentence out, because she ran up to me and wrapped me in a bear hug.

Jess started to jabber happily at me, and I smiled loosely. Truth be told, I was feeling pretty happy about this myself. No more Sophia or Madison, no Emma except for our Nemesis fights. I'd have a new chance, a fresh start. Would starting over, making new friends somewhere different, be daunting? Of course it would be. But I wasn't scared of that the way I used to. After all, I'd already made a pretty good one right here.

The me in the Bumblebee outfit, the one right then transcribing Piggot's meeting, smiled wide. I still didn't like working for Tattletale. But it had so been worth it.

Now I just need to not get caught.

~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! There's another wonderful piece of fanart, Bumblebee and Crystalia by Lifeofgesture, along with another amazing crop of ten omakes! I think my favorite this week is "Laugh At Yourself" by Bladeruler. Also, Milarqui made a TVTropes page! Check that out!

Next week is the heist. I hope you enjoy it!

 

[BeaconHill]

Nemesis
Chapter 9: The Heist​

[ Emma ]

It was a bright, hot summer day. The last summer day, since school started tomorrow. Which wouldn't be so bad – I was looking forward to seeing Taylor there again, back under my thumb. But for now, the sun was shining bright, birds were chirping in the air, dear Taylor was just about to steal something and I was just about to kick her ass. It couldn't come soon enough.

I was flying aimlessly around downtown, trying not to get too far from the museum. I was all alone this time – I wasn't really supposed to fight on solo patrol, but there wasn't actually much crime in the middle of Downtown in broad daylight, so the PRT wasn't too worried. I was just here to show my costume in public, make sure people knew we superheroes were still looking out for them. But when something high-priority happened, and a supervillain appearance definitely would be, then I would also be the first person on scene.

Still, Console hadn't ordered me over there yet, and Taylor didn't have to show up for a few more minutes – she might not even be here yet. And I was starting to get really, really twitchy waiting.

Soon, I reminded myself. Soon.

I glided back down to the sidewalk, and started doing my standard solo-patrol duties – mostly looking good and posing for photos – and just as I signed an autograph for a businessman who looked ridiculous cooing over a superhero my age, Clockblocker finally buzzed in on my headset.

"Crystalia, it looks like Bumblebee's at it again," he said. I grinned. Finally! "She's in the sculpture garden at the Brockton Museum of Art, just a few blocks away. I know you're on solo patrol, but this should be low-key."

"Got it," I said. "On my way." I handed the piece of notepaper back. "Sorry, citizen, gotta fly!"

He stared up in awe as I rocketed into the air, headed for the museum. She was in the sculpture garden – that was on the south, right? I quickly caught sight of it and zoomed down, a big smile on my face.

"Have fun out there," he said. "Just make sure she doesn't break anything, and, uh... don't go Crystalzilla on her, all right?"

I rolled my eyes. "C'mon, Clock. I promise I'll play nice." And I meant it. Not like I'd never go all-out on Taylor, but this wasn't the time. No, I would be subtle, for now. Or at least subtler. I'd beat her, but I wouldn't do anything that would look bad, at least not in public. No crystal shards, definitely. Only after I'd embarrassed her, I'd ruined her reputation, when everyone knew her for the disgusting, weak villain she was... that was when I would go after her. And people would love me for it. But this time, I'd stay calm and take it easy.

... Mostly. I mean, it was Taylor. Just looking at her made me mad. But I wasn't going to kill her or anything. That was good enough, right?

I turned off my headset and soared down, spraying gravel as I landed in the sculpture garden. Some of the crowd of people watching turned my way, and I struck a pose for the cameras. Time to kick some ass.

Taylor was in her ridiculous costume again – god, that thing was even stupider in person – strutting on a stage on the opposite end of the sculpture garden, right in front of a giant statue completely surrounded by bees.

And when she saw me, she turned and smiled.

"Hi, Crystalia!" she said, the grin on her face wide and entirely natural looking. "It's so cool getting to meet you! I love all the Wards, but I saw that video of you out the other night – that was so great!" A gigantic bee flew out from around the statue with a pen and paper clutched in its legs. It flew up to me and held the pad out expectantly. I gritted my teeth. It was getting way too close. "Can I have your autograph? Please?"

"Get out of my face!" I said, slapping the big, stupid bee away from me. It fell to the ground, buzzing sadly. "I don't sign autographs for villains. You need to stop causing trouble—"

"Noooo!" Bumblebee yelled, her eyes widening as she started running toward me. "Bumbledore!"

She hopped off the stage and down onto the ground, sliding through the gravel to kneel over the fallen bee. (I refused to call it Bumbledore. That was just ridiculous.) "Are you okay?" she asked the bee. It buzzed weakly back at her. "You're not hurt? Poor bay-bee..."

I grinned. She was just lying on the ground, right in front of me. I was looming over her – she was sitting in my shadow, and she didn't even seem to have noticed. Would it look bad if I got her with a containment foam grenade right now? Because it felt like just desserts.

She finally looked up. "Crystalia," she said, "why would you do that? Bumbledore wasn't hurting anyone – she just wanted an autograph, that's all!" Taylor actually sounded distraught. How ridiculous. The bee squirmed around in her hands, buzzing sadly. "I... I like you!"

"Too bad," I said. "I don't like you." Then I pulled the pin on the foam grenade, and tossed it down at her.

I thought she couldn't get away in time, and I was right – Bumblebee didn't seem to react at all. But, apparently, the fucking bee was more competent than its master. It grabbed her and flew away, just barely escaping the containment foam, standing Bumblebee back on her feet again on the stage.

Bumblebee was staring at me now, looking shocked and offended. God, what an idiot. Had she still not figured out who I was?

"You're so mean!" she whined, stomping her foot as the bee helped her back to her feet. "B-but you'll never catch me! You can't even stop me! Look at this, I finished it!" She got onto her bee and flew back to the statue.

Then I did a double-take. What the hell did she do to that statue?

It was surrounded by giant bees, more than I'd ever seen in one place before, and they were holding paintbrushes in their legs, dripping yellow and black paint. It was like a fucking cartoon! But they had finished – they flew out of the way, revealing the final, ridiculous product.

It had been a guy on a horse. But now the horse was badly painted to look like a bee – sloppy yellow-and-black stripes and fake wings and antennae on the horse head. It was ridiculous – it looked nothing like a bee. And they'd put a copy of Bumblebee's minidress on the man, with another set of antennae stuck to his cowboy hat. Bumblebee riding a bee, as depicted by a preschooler on a sugar rush with a few buckets of paint.

"Doesn't it look beeautiful?" Bumblebee said, grinning like a loon at the ridiculous thing. "I've made a monument to all beekind! And now, I'm going to steal it! Ha ha ha!"

I raised an eyebrow. Was this really supposed to be her art theft? How did she plan to get it out of here? It was huge! Did this even count? I was so complaining to the doctor when this was over. This wasn't what Taylor was supposed to do!

A few of the bees flew out with a big net held in their legs. They wrapped it under the horse, then held the net up. More and more of the giant bees grabbed onto the net and started to pull. I stared. Could she actually steal it this way? It was starting to shake and slide across its pedestal...

I raised my hands and shot crystal fists at the bees. I knocked down two of the big ones, sending them plummeting into more bees and messing up the whole thing. The statue clunked back down onto the base. "You won't get away with this, Bumblebee!" I yelled, firing two more fists. One of the bees actually fell all the way down to the ground that time.

"Stop hurting my bees!" Bumblebee said. She sounded so sad about it – I giggled and shot at them some more. "Hey! Stop that!" She flew toward me, going as fast as her poor little bee could go.

"Come and get me!" I said with a smirk, shattering some crystal to use as weapons and soaring toward her.

Bumblebee's eyes widened. I could see her pale... and then she turned and ran away! I started laughing as I chased after her. I formed my crystal into big blunt balls. I shot one over her shoulder, being sure to vanish it before it could fall on the crowd. I shot another one, but that was too low – I could hear people oohing and aahing in the crowd down there. They had to be enjoying this. Bumblebee tried to zigzag to throw me off, but I could turn way faster than her stupid bees could – there was no way she could get rid of me. I held up the next crystal ball and grinned. I've got you this time!

But Bumblebee chose that exact moment to turn. Instead of hitting her, my crystal hit the bee she was riding — and knocked it right out from under her. Bumblebee fell, landing on her head in some hedges.

"I'm okay!" she said, her voice sounding a little bit off. "At least, I think I'm okay..." She struggled back upright, sitting up in the hedge with leaves and twigs stuck in her blonde wig. I snorted. What a fool. I readied the next crystal ball, grinning as I aimed – but then I stopped.

There was a PRT siren nearby, getting louder and louder. I turned around just in time to see a big PRT van drive through the emergency gate right into the sculpture garden and skid to a stop right beneath me, Gallant and Triumph jumping through the van door in formation.

"Uh-oh..." Bumblebee smiled loopily down at the new heroes. Even for Taylor, she sounded weird. Guess she hit her head in that fall. "I'm really in trouble now. Guess it's time to go. C'mon, bees, get me out of here!" She giggled as they descended over her, picking her up – she just hung limply in the air, not getting onto a bee or really doing much of anything. I bet I could knock her right out of those bees' legs... I readied another crystal ball—

"Stop!" Gallant said out loud. "You'll hurt her!" Heh heh, I could tell he was angry. He jabbed hard at his ear – oh, right, I'd turned my headset off. Didn't want to get interrupted. I reached up and turned it back on, only to get blasted with Piggot's yelling.

"—alia, don't you dare go after her now!" she shouted, directly into my ear. Ow. "It's bad enough she got hurt like that, if she falls again – she's over concrete, you could kill her if she fell from that high up!"

"But she's getting away!" I said. "I... you can't... you shouldn't..."

My voice trailed off as I watched her escape, silhouetted in a cloud of bees against the bright afternoon sun.

~~

[ Emma ]

I sat in the too-hot conference room, where I'd been waiting for almost two hours now, waiting for the damn PRT to show up for the after-action meeting. I was bored out of my skull – I'd resorted to watching local news on the big screen.

They had segments on the museum robbery every half hour or so. I was curious to see what they were saying – they'd only shown me once so far, and that was the video of me slapping her bee out of my face. But, I mean... I was the hero. They were supposed to talk about me, right? The discussion on PHO was negative, too, even on my own thread – they thought I looked mean. Ugh, morons. Didn't they understand that she was a supervillain? That she was a weak, worthless bitch?

Another segment on the robbery started, and I put the phone down, perked my head up.

"Everyone's favorite local supervillain Bumblebee has done it again," the newscaster said, his voice a smug, satisfied drawl. I groaned. "She was seen at the Brockton Museum of Art just hours ago, vandalizing the William S. Brock statue."

The channel switched to someone's cameraphone footage, Bumblebee revealing the repainted statue. That was the same video they showed last time, and I wasn't even in it. Ugh.

"The statue is over three hundred years old and commemorates our city's founder. Bumblebee tried to steal it, but, uh..." The TV station played footage of her bees trying and failing to lift the statue, featuring my fists punching the bees away. "That didn't quite work out. But Bumblebee did manage to steal something today, even if it wasn't on purpose. Some of her bees wandered off. They were seen browsing the galleries at the museum, smelling the flowers in local parks, and one of them even found a friend. A viewer sent in this video from the gift shop of the science museum next door."

I perked up my head. This was new – they hadn't shown it before. What was this? It looked like another crummy cameraphone video, this one of a gift shop filled with weird sciencey knick-knacks.

The camera panned quickly across baskets of stuffed animals – there were lions, snakes, ants, and bees. But then it turned to focus on the one real bee, flying lazily through the room.

It looked for all the world like a bored worker slacking off, flying lazily through the gift shop, not really searching for anything in particular. But then it caught sight of the stuffed animals, and it buzzed with excitement, flying over to rest on top of the basket of bees, right next to the cameraman. It buzzed again, sounding contented, almost like a purr. It snuggled up with the stuffed animals, burying itself in the soft plushes until only its antennae were sticking out.

The cameraman reached for a stuffed animal, and the bee hidden inside buzzed angrily, its wings shaking the whole pile. More people started to gather around, most of them recording on their cell phones. The pile shook a little more, and the bee dug itself out, rolling around in the stuffed animals.

Then it paused for a second, as if it noticed something. Then it grabbed a bee from the pile, clutching it upside down in its tiny little legs, and started to fly away, circling and doing loops like it was trying to show off. From the oohs and aahs and camera flashes, it sounded like it was succeeding.

"Adorable," the newscaster said, and I scoffed. You really believe this bullshit? It's an act! She's tricking you! "No one was hurt in the attempted robbery, and the museum says that there was no damage to the statue – all the paint should wash right off. But if you'd like to see our city's founder in bumblebee stripes and a miniskirt, the museum has announced that they'll be keeping Bumblebee's version on display until September 26th after strong public demand. See it while you can, folks! Bumblebee is still at large after escaping from Crystalia of the Brockton Bay Wards—"

"Oh, come on!" I yelled at the screen. "I had her, I just—"

The door finally opened behind me, and Gallant, Triumph, and Director Piggot walked into the room. Miss Piggy looked pissed. Damn it, what was she going to whine about about this time? I mean, I didn't hurt Bumblebee or anything! I never even hit her! It's not like there was anything wrong with going after Taylor, come on.

I turned the TV off just as it started playing Bumblebee's attempt to steal the statue, set to "Flight of the Bumblebees," and rolled my eyes. This was going to suck.

~~~~~~

Finally! I apologize for the delay. Hopefully, I'll be back on track for a good long while, this time.

As always, thanks to everyone who commented, and especially those who wrote omakes and drew fanart! I love you all!

In fanart, Metallix666 drew the wonderful Bumblebee Meets Bumblebee and (the amazing) Oceans 11 Bumblebee, _mathilda drew the amazing Bee Flat, and SilenceTheLoudestSound contributed Chi-Bee. I can't go through all, most, or even more than a few good ones. But there are many wonderful omakes to read, both on SB and SV! In special shout-outs, and please don't feel bad if I didn't mention yours, there are just so many wonderful options to choose from this week, I thought "A Different Strategy" by Fwee was the funniest and "Mothers and Daughters...?" by Morganite was the most "awwww..."

You may also want to check out my canon bonus chapter, posted midway through my streak of misses.

Finally, if you're fond of Harry Potter, expect a snip of that in Morning Worm sometime soon!

 

[BeaconHill]

Nemesis
Chapter 10: "First Day of School"​

[ Emma ]

Sophia and I lay together on the couch on my balcony, our hands intertwined as we watched the sun set over the hills. It had been a long day – I had enjoyed my fight with Bumblebee, but a lot of people seemed angry about it. There'd been PRT, Protectorate, and Wards goons yelling at me all afternoon, and even PHO seemed to hate it. And they usually fawned over me!

Thank god the PRT had let me out in time to take Sophia home. I thought for a while they were gonna try and keep me there all night.

But she seemed a little pensive, too, even lying here in my arms.

"You're not still worrying about that fight, are you?" I asked, squeezing her a little tighter. "I think I've gotten enough of that today."

"A little," Sophia admitted, looking down at the city below. "I love you, Emma. I don't like to see you... lose."

I pressed my head into her side, hiding my worried expression. "You really think I lost?" I asked. "I mean, I stopped her from stealing the statue, beat her up a little. Could have caught her if they didn't stop me."

"None of that really matters, though," Sophia said. "Bumblebee didn't care about stealing the statue. I mean, what's she gonna do with it? How do you sell a statue like that? Honestly, I'm not even sure why she bothered trying."

Because I told her to, I realized, fidgeting just a little. No wonder she tried to steal something so absurd – she didn't want to steal anything in the first place. I made her do it.

"She cared about having a big, flashy publicity stunt and then escaping," Sophia said. "She did that, and dragged your reputation through the mud doing it. That's why she won and you lost."

"Yeah, but it's not like I was trying to beat her up so bad! It was just an accident – she fell off her bee!"

"There's no such thing as an accident in a cape fight," Sophia said, and I smiled despite myself. She always used to say that. "You looked like a jerk today, and that means Bumblebee probably wanted you to. She might even have fallen off the bee on purpose." She shrugged. "Probably not, but even if you hadn't given her a concussion, you were still fighting way too hard for a harmless humor villain."

"But she was just acting like normal!" I said, fidgeting again. Taylor would want me to look bad, but she wasn't that good, was she? It must have been an accident, right? "Just like in her videos, or her encounter with Gallant! The only thing different was, I didn't put up with her bullshit!"

"Yeah," Sophia said dryly, "that's what made you look bad. This is how Bumblebee always acts, so it didn't look like she was messing with you." She paused for a second, moving around so we were cuddled even closer together, so I could see her face. "Why don't you just play along?" she asked. "You know that's what the PRT wants. It'll make you look good. And it's not like you hate pleasing crowds..." She smirked at me, and I rolled my eyes. She was still a little mad I'd kissed her in costume.

"I dunno, I just don't like her," I lied, turning away. "Is there anything wrong with that? I mean, she's a villain."

"Yeah, I don't like her either. I don't like any comedy capes – they're just not my style. But even for me... I'd rather fight her than Bakuda or Kaiser. You would too, right?"

"... Yeah," I admitted quietly. "Does that make me weak?"

"It makes you sane, Emma," Sophia said, smiling wryly. "I mean, why would you want to fight Bakuda? Unless you were suicidal, or your goal in life was to become a glass sculpture." She snorted softly, rolled her eyes. "You can do better, Ems," she said, squeezing my hand gently. "So why does she make you so angry? It wasn't just the fight – you get like this any time we talk about her. I don't get it. Is this, like, a Taylor thing?"

"Uh..." I fidgeted again, trying to meet her eyes again. She hit the nail on the head – I just couldn't say so. "Sort of? It's just... her power is so weak! She's useless! She's a fucking clown! And she's still getting away with it! No one's stopping her! No one's going after her! And people hate me just because I tried! It's pitiful, Sophia!"

I could hear the last word echo off into the distance, and I winced. I'd just totally ranted, in front of Sophia. I'd been trying not to do that.

"It just... it bugs me. It's wrong, and no one else notices. I want to do something about it," I said, voice quiet and trembling.

"How do you know she's weak?" Sophia asked.

Of course she was weak! She was Taylor! But I couldn't say that, so... "She just is," I said. "I know it when I see it."

"I think you're wrong about her," Sophia said, sounding contemplative. "She definitely looks weak, but she wants to. She's pretending. I mean, if her power really is just bumbling bumblebees, I'll eat my mask. Powers just aren't like that. And she's definitely smarter than most of the capes in this hellhole. An act like hers takes serious work."

"W-what if she's not pretending?" I said, paling as I tried to figure out how to explain. What would happen if Sophia didn't believe me? "What if she really is as airheaded as she looks?"

"No chance of that," Sophia said. "Think about all the bullshit classes we had to take about looking good on the battlefield. PR and image, battle banter, pose and posture, civilian handling, all that garbage. And the worst part is, they're right – that stuff really is hard, and if you care about how you look, you'd better listen to them or you'll be in trouble. Now think about how much worse that's gotta be for a girl like Bumblebee. Joke villains like her live and die by their reputation – one fuckup, and suddenly she's a regular old villain you and I get to hunt down on the night shift."

I bit my lip. Not only couldn't I explain why she was wrong, she was actually starting to sound pretty reasonable – Bumblebee was popular, after all, and Sophia was right that it wasn't so easy to be popular...

"And she is good, Emma. I mean, you ever gone down the list of comedy villains? Because usually they try, they're crap, and they don't last long. Or they're just assholes trying to be funny, like Uber and Leet, and everyone hates them. But Bumblebee's popular, she's got a nice schtick and a cute costume, and she is actually really hilarious. Like, Clock and I were watching her videos in the lounge the other night, and I was laughing as hard as he was. I never laugh at Clock's videos." I snorted, shook my head. No, she does not. "And she's kept her act up, even when you went nuclear on her. She's new, so maybe she really has just gotten lucky. But so far she's done pretty damn fantastic. Like, a bunch of joke villains are national names, Doctor Roboto and Ringmaster and that crowd. Bumblebee is as good as they are."

"You don't really think she could be that good, do you?" I said, my voice weak, defeated. God, if Taylor really could do that... "That any humor cape could be? I mean, if you were strong, you'd act like it, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah, I do think," Sophia said. "You and I would want to show our strength, but not everyone's like that. Go ask Armsmaster to tell you some of his Mouse Protector stories sometime. Comedy capes can work scarily hard."

She wrapped her hands around me, turning my face gently towards hers. She'd noticed how I was looking away, then. I blushed, and I almost turned away again – and then Sophia kissed me, and I blushed even harder.

"C'mon, Emma," she said. "You know I love you, I care about you. I just... don't want you to underestimate her again. You could get in real trouble that way. It's not like you lose points if you overestimate her – that just makes you look even better."

I smiled. "Thanks, Sophia," I said, and then leaned forward and kissed her. She giggled, smiling brightly back at me. "It's getting dark," I said, looking out over the city once more, at the rapidly descending night. "You want to go inside?"

Sophia snorted. "Sure," she said, her voice quietly pleased.

I led her indoors, but still, thoughts of Taylor were distracting me, bubbling in the back of my mind. Sophia had taken all this time to warn me. So why not listen?

Why not assume that Sophia was right, that the egghead analysts were right, that Taylor really was well-trained, well-practiced, and more powerful than she looks. Now, add in what I knew: she probably figured out who I am, since my costume really wasn't all that subtle. And she hated me. If she did grow a spine, she did it for one reason – taking me down.

So this is a trap then, isn't it? She thinks I can't control myself. She thinks I'll go ape on her, that I'll look bad like I did today, going after a poor harmless supervillain like Bumblebee. But I knew better than that – I hadn't become the queen bee at Winslow High pissing off everyone I met. I knew how to put on a show when I wanted to. Oh, I was never going to play along with her – I had more dignity than that. But I knew I could find a way to hit her where it really hurt.

If she wasn't going to fight me for real, then her reputation was the only weapon she had. And I was sure I could take that away from her. I'd give Cauldron a call tonight.

I smirked, a faint frisson of victory settling comfortably over me as I shut my door behind us. Enough thinking about Taylor – after all, Sophia was right in front of me.

~~

[ Taylor ]

My phone buzzed in my hand. almost there, Jess had texted.

I put my backpack on with a smile. "Almost time to go," I said.

"Okay," Dad said. He was having a hard time meeting my eyes... but then he stepped forward and hugged me, kissing me gently on the forehead. "Good job, Taylor. This summer, I... I didn't know what we could do. But now you're going to Immaculata with a big scholarship, and making new friends even before the first day, and I... I just... Congratulations." He smiled, finally meeting my eyes again. "I know Winslow was hard. I hope this can be a new start for you."

"I know it will be," I said with a grin. Then I glanced over my shoulder, out the front window, just in time to see Mrs. J's Acura pulling up out front. "Gotta go!"

I burst out the front door, hopping over the broken step and down onto the street, only pausing just long enough to wave to Dad, standing there in the doorway.

Then I shut the car door behind me, and Jess's mom drove us off into the distance.

"Thanks for driving me," I said, nodding to her.

"It was on the way," Mrs. J said, her words as blunt as ever. Jess winced from the opposite seat, smiling sheepishly at me... but it widened into a real grin as her eyes passed over me.

"You look so cute!" Jess said. "The uniform looks so good on you. Why didn't you show me? I love it!"

I was finally wearing my new school uniform, a dark red blazer with a blouse and a short skirt. "You really think so?" I said, blushing at her. I wasn't really flustered, of course, not after getting used to Bumblebee's skimpy minidress. But I figured there was nothing wrong with playing it up a little. Someday I was going to tell Jess who I was... but, for now, I didn't think she'd mind if I had a little fun with things.

"Of course! I mean, everyone looks good in the uniform, but that... you just... It's so cute!" I smiled. Wasn't every day I got to stun Jess speechless.

"Thank you," I said with a smile.

"And, um..." This time, the shoe was on the other foot – Jess fidgeted just a little, breaking eye contact. "Do you wanna go downtown after school?" she asked. "Go see Bumblebee's statue, maybe get dinner afterward?"

Jess glanced nervously up toward the front of the car, but her mom didn't seem to have noticed. Either she wasn't paying attention, or she hadn't caught Jess's drift.

But it wasn't like this had to mean anything. We could just be two friends, hanging out downtown. Couldn't we?

"Of course," I told Jess, smiling gently at her. "I'd love to."

She reached cautiously across the middle seat and took my hand, her skin very soft and gentle against mine. "Me too," she whispered quietly.

We just sat there for a while, smiling at each other. But before too long, the car bumped onto the school's driveway, and I turned around to look.

Immaculata really was an impressive place. Wide green lawns, with actual grass instead of gravel, mud, and weeds like at Winslow. There were even hedges and flowerbeds. And the lawns weren't empty, either – they were filled with students, all in uniforms like ours, playing and chatting and talking. And all of that in front of a big, fancy brick school building. I mean, it had a steeple!

It couldn't have been more different from Winslow, and that was exactly why I loved it.

Jess's mom pulled to a stop on the building's big looping driveway. "Have a good day at school," she said. "Don't stay out too late."

"Thanks!" we said, before hopping off.

Jess led me across the lawns and into the building, entering by a side door. "So our friends like to hang around in the hall by the geology rooms," Jess said, as she led me into the building and down the hallways – the clean, brightly-painted, well-lit hallways, that would take some getting used to. She kept right on talking, telling me about the building, the teachers, the few friends in her group I hadn't met yet. I started to zone out, smiling adoringly at her as we walked. It wasn't that I wasn't interested – it was just that I was so overwhelmed at it all.

I was going to love it.

~~

[ Emma ]

I was starting to seethe as I stomped through the halls of Winslow High. Taylor hadn't shown up. She wasn't here. And maybe if that whole fight yesterday hadn't happened, I would be proud of it. It would have meant she'd dropped out, and that would be absolutely delicious, even if I wouldn't get to bully her as much after that. But now, I wasn't so confident. And it was making me cranky.

It wasn't until lunch that I found out what really happened.

"You're not gonna believe this," Kristie said, waving her phone excitedly in our direction. "Taylor didn't drop out. She transferred. My friend Jenna says she's at Immaculata now. Can you believe it?"

She finally held her phone still for two seconds, long enough to see a cell phone picture of Taylor, school uniform and everything, hanging out with some nerds in a hallway.

But... but Taylor could never afford Immaculata, could she? I mean, her dad was poor and her mom was dead! How was she supposed to pay—

My jaw dropped. Oh. She was doing contract villain work, wasn't she? With the powers that I gave her. I could feel my stomach sinking. It felt like claws were digging into my skin. Fuck me, this is my fault!

"Huh," Sophia said, peering at the phone with a faint smile on her face. "Looks like she had a backbone after all. Never would have thought."

"Sophia!" I yelled, my voice angry and uncontrolled, my rage contorting my face.

"S-sorry, Ems," Sophia said, looking away in embarrassment. "I'm sure you were looking forward to messing with her, but don't worry about it. There are plenty of losers at Winslow High. You'll find someone else."

"But... but..." My face was turning red as I realized I couldn't explain that to Sophia either, that Taylor only got out because I messed up. "Never mind," I finally said. "I... I just need to think, okay? T-talk to you later!"

Sophia watched as I left, a strange, worried look on her face. But she didn't follow me or try to stop me as I ran off toward the back of the school, barging through the crummy, dingy door that led to the PRT's emergency closet. I let it shut behind me.

Good. Privacy.

I got my phone out of my pocket, and pushed the familiar button for Cauldron.

"Hello?" asked the doctor. "Cleopatra? Did you want to change anything about the fight? I'm afraid I just gave Miriam your instructions, I can't—"

"Forget that," I said. "I want another fight."

"You just set up a fight yesterday," the doctor said, sounding a bit confused. "It won't be for a week yet. You don't know what will happen. Are you really sure you're ready to set up another one now?"

"Yes," I said, my words underlined with rage. "The last one will work. I'll ruin her reputation, just like I wanted. Now I just need to punch her in her big fat face."

I could hear a rush of static, almost like the doctor had taken a deep breath. "Very well. What scenario do you want, then?"

"Well..." I smiled again, finally, as ideas started to pass before my mind's eye.

~~~~~~

Sorry about the lateness – I'll try to be on time for next chapter, one or two weeks from now. And, in the meantime, there's a good chance I'll get a chapter of Heredity written sometime soon too. I hope you enjoy it!

As always, I am overwhelmed by how wonderful all my readers are. This week, we got a drawing of Bumbledore's hos-bee-tal bed by Metallix666, a very neat drawing of Bumblebee and her bees by Shana the Short, and cover art for TayTay's BeeZarre Adventure, plus even more omakes on SB and SV!