Catelyn Winona
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Madame Science Chap 3 (Rough)
🕑 Added 2020-01-29 01:18:18 +0000 UTCHere's chapter 3 of Madame Science (the revenge of the first draft!)
I wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.
Hereās how I know that I have super powersāI wake up in the middle of the night and know exactly how to make the bionanites that ate through the field. Or, at the very least, something similar.
I swing myself out of my bed, stagger to the living room and pick up the file again. Bionanites are the only explanation for the type of inconsistent and directed damage, which is scary in itself. The only person Iāve ever met who can make nanites that complex is, well, me. And it totally wasnāt me this time. I would never have thought to use the type of super bacteria whoever did this usedāI would have used my sentient slime.
My first instinct is to call Ms. Barry and tell her to send my findings directly to the head of LAās Hero Force chapter. Even if this wasnāt made by a super scientist, itās not something regular forces can exactly stop. Thereās got to be something I can make that a civilian can use to protect themselves, but I don't have the faintest idea for it yet. Best containment method is probably flash freezing or flash fryingāboth at the speeds which can only be achieved by superpowers.
I toss the file back to the table in disgust. But I canāt ask Ms. Barry to get me in contact with the Hero Force. I canāt even tell them about this myself. Doing so would violate my agreement and not even the Hero Force could help me out of that one. Super scientists arenāt super-powered. Not in their jurisdiction.
I frown, stilling in the half-darkness of my apartment. The streetlights outside filter through my blinds and I consider them thoughtfully. This canāt be the only incident. Something like this would require tests on a scale thatād be nearly impossible to hide.
āMomento, come,ā I call. Then, after a momentās thought, āThe rest of you too.ā
I wince when I hear them all clicking out from under my bed. If I had the right tools, I could make them move soundlessly, but the right tools arenāt part of my agreements. An eerie green glow precedes my five little helpers out of the bedroom, their eyes lighting their way like headlamps. Oh my god, theyāre so cute and dumb. I love them.
Momento hops and clicks his way to my feet and then sits, looking up at me expectantly. Heās not the most advanced AI Iāve ever made, but I try not to let people know about Evette. If she ever resurfaces, I really donāt want her getting traced back to me.
I crouch down and hold out a picture of the crater to him and then to each of the other four. I donāt really need to show each one of themāas a hive mind, what one sees they all see. Itās awfully cute how they click their heads to one side to indicate understanding though. I canāt resist. āSearch for similar stuff, okay? The last five years.ā The file didnāt mention a location, so I canāt narrow it down very far. āUS restricted, please.ā
Memento chirps understanding and then lays down, the four behind him following a microsecond after. When they find something, theyāll stand and come get me, or just send it directly to my phone. It wonāt be for a couple hours. Five years of news articles and blogs is a lot to sift through.
As much as I should get back into bed, I know it wonāt do any good. Once my brain is awake, Iām awake. Scott should be back home by now. I do some of my best thinking when heās around. Or, at least, thatās my excuse. Itās been almost a week since I last saw my boyfriend out of costume. If he didnāt want me to drop in unannounced, he shouldnāt have given me a key.
I throw a sweater over my pajamas and grab my keys. After a momentās thought, I grab the file too. If Scottās asleep, Iāll want something to work on and, maybe, if heās awake, I can ask try to ask him what he thinks about what little I can tell him.
āHey, Scott,ā I practice while locking up, āIāve got this case that...tests DOD boundaries. Yeah, tests DOD boundaries. Thatās vague enough.ā I jog down the stairs and swear as I go outside into the brisk weather of early morning Los Angeles.
LA is a desert. Hard to imagine that it is with all the palm trees and skyscrapers and sunny beach graphics on every tourist pamphlet, but it is. When I lived in Chicago, I could handle temperatures like this easy. Somehow my bare year in LA robbed me of those defenses. I hop into my car as quickly as possible, cranking the heater up immediately. The nice thing about owning a nice car is that the air might even be warm by the time I get to Scottās apartment.
Scott lives in a nicer neighborhood than I do, but still not as nice as he can afford. He says itās because he needs to be close to the Hero Forceās LA headquarters, but I think itās because he doesnāt know what to do with the extra money he makes working as a substitute teacher and an A-class hero. Contrary to popular belief, most heroes get paid absolutely shit. Salary depends on where youāre stationed and how many villains you fight per quarter. Scottās never quite gotten used to the idea of being an A-rank hero and the perks that come with it.
I park on the street, ignoring the street cleaning warning. Iāll be gone before 7. The doorman knows me and doesnāt say anything when I push into the apartment buildingās lobby and make a beeline for the elevator. When I first started dating Scott, Iād meet him down here, still unsure of my welcome. It wasnāt exactly easy moving past our past relationship of hero-assigned-to-stop-this-villain and chaotic-villain-who-must-be-stopped.
I still think it was pretty stupid of Scott to give me his address right away like that. For all he knew, I was lying to him, pretending to renounce my evil ways in order to catch him off guard. I wasnāt, but thatās beside the point. Heroes are always too trusting.
Thatās why I need to become a hero quickly. Somebody has got to bring some common sense to the table.
I shoot off a quick text to Scott in the elevator, letting him know Iām coming over. If heās sleeping, heāll check his phone when he hears me come in. If heās awake, heāll find the twenty second warning funny.
The elevator dings and opens to the top floor. Scottās super speed is fast enough he can run down the sides of the buildings if he has to, but he prefers to use the stairs at the end of the hall. This floor is the only one in the building with tile instead of carpet. Scottās tread shows up too quickly on carpet so heād paid for the replacement himself.
There are two other apartments up here, but Iāve never seen anyone go in or out of them. I have a hunch that they belong to other heroes so I donāt mention them to Scott. He wouldnāt be able to tell me even if they areāhe takes his oaths to the Hero Force very seriously.
I let myself into Scottās apartment. Itās bigger than mine. Thereās an entry hall where he hangs up his civilian jackets. The kitchen opens up on the right side, but isnāt a galley like mine. Itās open to the living room. It should feel like a big space and Iām sure it would if it werenāt for the stacks of file boxes Scott leaves laying everywhere. Between those and the student art projects he canāt help but keep, his living space feels more like the kidās section of a library than a grown upās apartment.
The lights are on and I check the time on my phone. Three am. Did he just get in? āScott? Itās me.ā
Thereās no answer. I can hear high-pitched wind, like the sound of a storm blowing in. I put my file down on the side table by the wall with my keys. I kick off my shoes and head towards the living room, frowning.
The brown leather couch is empty, a stack of textbooks perilously balanced on one arm. The black coffee table, nearly overflowing with empty glasses and newspapers, is pressed flush against the furniture, clearing as big of a space as possible around the couch. Thereās a carpet in here, a nice green one I helped Scott pick out online about a month ago in an attempt to make his apartment less boring. Heād said itād be destroyed in a month which Iād pointedly ignored. Unfortunately, he was right. Already, I can see a ring worn into it where Scottās paced around the couch again and again.
The sound of wind continues. Out of habit, I check the windows. Yup, closed. Heās somewhere in here, moving faster than the eye can see. Did he not notice me come in? āScott?ā I take another step forward onto the carpet. I know almost immediately that Iāve made a terrible mistake.
āShit!ā
The wind rushes around me, twisting my pale hair up as if Iām in a tornado. Instinctively, I press the volume button on my phone, activating the taser as I lose my balance. Strong arms catch me around the shoulders, yanking me on top of a too-hot body. I drop my phone-taser just in time to keep from tasing my boyfriend when we hit the ground.
Scott blinks up at me, seeming unsure of how we got here. Heās lucky heās pretty. And that he wasnāt running long enough to get really hot. His power keeps him from getting too hot, but itās still a bit shocking to touch a human running at 150 degrees. His arms tighten and loosen around my waist. āChristine? Whenād you get here?ā
āYou are so lucky youāre pretty,ā I tell him, out of breath. He softened my fall, but the adrenaline is still going strong in my veins. I drop my weight against him completely and feel a bit better when I hear him grunt in surprise. āI wouldnāt forgive you for running me over otherwise.ā
āItās not running you over if I caught you.ā Scottās warm brown eyes slide to where my phone-taser fell. āThank you for not tasing me in my own home.ā From anyone else thatād be sarcastic. From Scott itās almost bemused.
āYouāre welcome,ā I say. I kiss the tip of his nose before climbing off of him. I hold out a hand to help him up, which he ignores in favor of jack knifing to his feet. The show off.āNow wanna tell me why youāre running marathons at 3 am?ā
Scott and I are nearly the same height so I get a close-up view of how his expression clouds over and the light dims in his eyes. His smile turns humorless and small. āJust a...just a rough night. Iām sorry I missed dinner.ā
I wave off his apology and steer him to the couch. I know what rough night means after a cancelled date. āYou wanna talk about it?ā
Scott lets himself be pushed down to sit and drags me down next to him before I can get him a glass of water. āNothing to talk about,ā he says but then sighs in the way I know means that there is something to talk about. I just canāt be the one he talks about it with.
I wrap an arm around him, urging him to lay his head on my shoulder. Scott goes willingly, body losing some tension. Iām glad he canāt see my face. I always feel so guilty when Scott has to stop himself from talking about his problems with me. If I was a hero or, at the very least, not a former villain, Iād be cleared to know a lot more of his life than I do now.
I press a kiss to the top of his head. āYou got work tomorrow?ā
Scott groans and scrubs a hand over his face. āYou mean later today? Yes. Iām an idiot, I forgot to call out.ā
āOuch,ā I say. As a substitute teacher, Scott doesnāt have a set schedule of when heās needed in a classroom. Mostly they call last minute to have him fill in, but very rarely, he gets a 24 hour notice. If he accepted the job before yesterdayās skirmish, he really canāt call out. āWhat grade?ā
āFourth.ā Scott squirms so that heās mostly laying down, head on my lap. āI met the teacher Iām subbing for. Sheāll have a good class.ā
āAt least thereās that.ā I pet Scottās hair. Itās still damp from his post-mission shower, curls hanging limply. I smile when I pull one and it springs back into place. āWe can just stay in tomorrow if want?ā
He cracks open one eye. āAre you sure? I know youāve been wanting to try that new Indian place.ā I can hear the hopeful note in his voice even though heās trying to hide it. There are deep bags under his eyes. He really is exhausted.
āWeāll order takeout,ā I say. Yeah, Iāve been wanting to try it, but itās more important to me that Scott gets a chance to rest. Iāve seen him falling asleep at a restaurant already. Itās not as cute as him falling asleep at home. I hum and run my nails lightly over his scalp. āAre you being a hero tomorrow too?ā
As soon as the question is out of my mouth, I know Iāve made a mistake. No oneās supposed to know Scottās hero schedule, except for those cleared by the Hero Force. Obviously, that doesnāt include me.
Scottās shoulders lose all relaxation and he pulls himself up into a sitting position, his back to me. āYou know I canāt tell you that, Christine.ā
āI know,ā I say. I pull my legs up on the couch and balance my chin on my knees. Here we go again. āBad wording. I just wanted to know if youād be back late tomorrow or not.ā
āYeah,ā Scott says. He fights to loosen his shoulders and twists back towards me. He tries for a smile and it comes out more rueful than understanding. āI know.ā
I curse myself silently. Now Iāve done it. I try to lighten the mood. āMaybe youāll get sent home from school early. You look like youāre about to fall asleep. I bet the principal takes pity on you.ā
āI wouldnāt bet on it.ā Scott slumps back against the couch and I internally pump my fist. I donāt want to fight tonight, not when I havenāt seen him for so long. Scott lets his hands fall to his sides. āIāve got to be out of here by 7. I donāt have the lesson plans yet.ā
I drop my knees so Iām sitting cross-legged and lean forward to grab the hand closest to me. I thread our fingers together and wait. When he opens his eyes, Iām right in his peripherals, grinning. āJust put on a movie. I looooved when the teacher put on a movie. It always felt like Christmas.ā
āI might,ā Scott says. His smile is definitely more natural now and he lets his head fall back again. He squeezes my hand back. āWhat should I play?ā
āSeasonal romantic comedies,ā I say immediately. Over Christmas we watched about fifty of them and laughed every time the love interests said something beyond corny. I screw up my face. āOh, wait, you said fourth grade, right? I change my answer, just play time lapses of butterflies coming out of their cocoons.ā
Scott huffs a laugh. āI was gonna sayā¦ā He trails off, eyes still closed.
I let the silence build, just looking at his profile. He really is a handsome man. He doesnāt have the classic, square-jaw that you see in all those old hero comics, thank god. His chin is sharper and more inviting. I let my eyes fall down the length of his neck to his chest. His breathing is growing slower and deeper. I let myself just sit with him in silence, watching the rise and fall of his chest.
I used to hate the silence. I absently unthread our fingers so I can rub circles into the back of his hand. Silence with Scott doesnāt bother me like normal silence does. Being with him is relaxing in a way I never knew before. Itās funny how just looking at him has the power to turn off my brain for a bit. Itās nice.
After a couple of minutes, Scott takes a big breath and forces himself to wake up. ā Iām really going to fall asleep on you if you keep doing that.ā
I stop tracing circles in favor of bringing his hand to my lips and leering. āFall asleep on me? Why, Mr. Mitchell, how forward of you.ā
Scott breathes out a tired laugh and flips his captured hand so he can cup my cheek. āHow could I resist?ā He watches me for a moment, his thumb tracing my cheekbone. āEverything okay with you? Youāre not normally up this late.ā
The reason for my insomnia comes crashing back. I pull out of his grip and pinch the bridge of my nose. Iād nearly managed to forget about it. āNew case. I canāt shut my brain off.ā
āOh?ā His voice is teasing. āSomething finally got the great Christine Green stumped?ā
āYou can say that.ā I hesitate. Scottās really strict about what we can and canāt share with each other. But he usually lets it pass if I can be very, very vague. āI could actually use your advice. Nothing specific, of course, just...kind of need a heroās perspective on it.ā
āSure,ā Scott says. He sounds a little more awake now. āYeah, whatās up?ā He actually manages to sit up and look attentive.
āIt might be nothing.ā I get up to get my file. Thereās only one picture in it that I can actually show him, but I hope he can tell that the damage is a superās handiwork. Thank god I practiced how to say this earlier. āThis case is a little more complicated than the usual ones. I have an idea as to the how but Iām not really sure of the who.ā After some thought, I add, āor the why for that matter.ā
Scott folds his arms over the back of the couch, following me with his eyes. āSo youāre saying even NASA would have a hard time with it.ā
I pause, my back to him, hand on the file. Heās joking, but itās actually a really good point. āThey could definitely have made this thing. I mean, if anyoneās sanctioned to...ā Only itās not sanctioned. I push the idea to the back of my mind to explore later. Rogue NASA scientists would be a little less bad than rogue super scientists, but a lot more unlikely. I turn and hold up the file. āBut I donāt think so this time.ā I hesitate, trying to remember exactly how I wanted to phrase this. āI think that the DOD might be a little outside their juris--ā
āDOD?ā Scott interrupts. Heās tense again and he hones in on the papers in my hand. āChristine, is that a DOD file?ā Thereās the start of a growl crawling through his voice.
Uh oh. I drop the folder to one side. Welp, looks like my idea of showing him the photo is scrapped. Heās really not in the mood to bend the rules tonight. āUh, yeah, but Iām not asking you to look at it--ā
Scott swears and jumps to his feet. āDamnit, Christine!ā
Oooh, boy.
āLook, I really do want to hear what you think,ā I say. I donāt think itās a laughing matter that thereās another super scientist of my caliber running around and if anyone knows the legally right thing to do, itād be Scott. āThe DOD is totally miscategorizing--ā
āDo you not want to be a hero?ā Scottās not even listening to me. He throws his hands up, mouth a thin line. āI know you know that bringing that here is against the law. If you donāt want to be a hero, just tell me. Donāt break the law!ā
I jerk, surprised by how much that stings. He knows how hard Iām working to change my status just so I can apply, no guarantee of getting into the Hero Academy. It makes me want to yell back, but my years as a villain taught me at least one thing Scottās years as a hero didnāt teach him. Speaking from your emotion only gets you caught.
The ensuing silence as I struggle to gather my thoughts is awkward. I let it be awkward. Itās hard to push past the sting of his words, but I do. Scottās reacting out of anger. Heās angry because I crossed a boundary.
āChristine,ā Scott says. Heās deflated without me noticing. āI didnātā¦ I know you want--ā
I hold up a finger and his mouth slams shut without me having to say anything. āGive me a moment.ā Itās better if I have a chance to think through things before I react.
I crossed one of Scottās boundaries. I knew before I started talking that this topic might, but I did it anyway. Itās one of my bigger flaws, my tendency to push and push. Weāve talked about it before and I can see how he might think the file was just another way for me to push things too far.
I take a deep breath. Right. āIām sorry I brought the file. I didnāt think it would be a big deal, but after thinking about it, I understand why youāre upset. I wonāt ask for your opinion on this case again.ā
āI shouldnāt have yelled,ā Scott says, shoulders rounded. He rubs a hand over his eyes. āI know you want to be a hero. Thereāre things I canāt help you with though and I really need both of us to remember that. Ms. Barry is the best the Hero Force has. Maybe you can bring this to her?ā
I definitely canāt. If I bring this to her, every possible outcome if this thing gets unleashed in a city, sheāll find a way to get it to the Hero Force alright. At the expense of both our jobs. But, this is an olive branch, the only compromise Scott knows how to make. Talk about it, but not with me. I nod. āYeah, yeah, I shouldāve thought of that. For sure.ā
āAlright.ā
āAlright.ā We stare at each other. My lip quivers first. I snicker. āMaybe alright can be our forever?ā Itās a line from a hokey romance movie we watched.
Scott, relieved, grins. āAlright.ā He shifts his weight from foot to foot, staring at me uncertainly. This isnāt the first time weāve argued about this issue. Heās still not sure if weāre okay. āYou staying?ā
āFor a bit.ā I carefully donāt draw attention to the file. āIāll do some work out here. You look extra tired now. You should go to bed.ā
Scott waggles his eyebrows. āYou coming with me?ā He holds out a hand.
If I really wanted to make it alright, Iād take his hand. Hell, even if we werenāt alright, Iād be tempted. Sharing a bed with Scott is definitely a perk of our relationship. Still, I know I wonāt be sleeping. āIāll just keep you up.ā
āIn a fun way?ā Scott asks and tries to leer. We both agree Iām much better at it. Heās got too much of an innocent vibe to really pull it off.
āHowās this,ā I say dryly, āyou come back out in 30 minutes if youāre still awake. Then we can talk about the fun way.ā
āAlas,ā Scott says, āan obstacle the great hero Light can not overcome.ā He comes around the couch and reaches for me. āNight, Christine. Donāt let your brain keep you up for too much longer.ā
I accept his goodnight kiss and watch him stagger to the bedroom. I hope he figures out heās still wearing his knee-high costume boots before he climbs in.
Only when the bedroom door closes and I can hear him start brushing his teeth do I let myself flop back onto the couch. Some of Scottās textbooks thunk onto the floor. God, he is such a clutterbug. I half-heartedly scoop them into a pile on the floor. Heāll barely notice they moved.
Yeah, we made up, but I hate not being able to talk to Scott. He has to hate it too, I know he does. It sucks to not be able to complain about work with each other, but itās also more than that. Half of Scottās friends are heroes, his found family who have really been there for him when he had to cut off ties with his old life. Do they even know heās dating an ex-villain? He says they know heās dating someone, but not who. He wants to wait until I file an application for hero.
Now Iām getting irritated about my hero application on top of this case. Great.
I sit up and rub my temples. I donāt blame him for wanting to wait. Itās enough for me that heās happy talking about our relationship with his friends. Itās a little sketchy for me to meet them when Iām on probation and I think itās smart to avoid that situation entirely. If the Hero Force suspects that I put together a civilian face with a hero identity, theyāll relocate that hero. I donāt want to risk being the reason Scott loses one of his friends to the other side of the country. Especially since theyād been kind enough to follow him when I got him relocated out of Chicago.
At the same time, just because I understand doesnāt mean it sucks any less. I gave up my whole life to date Scott, just like he did when he had to move. And, yeah, I was kind of already planning on retiring from being a villain, but the point still stands. I knew I had to change to be in his life, so I did. I hung up the lab coat and started playing nice with the government. I knew it would be a slow process. I just didnāt realize how slow.
Frustrated, I get up and head into the kitchen area. Unlike my apartment, Scottās got room for a kitchen table. Half of it is cluttered with lesson plans and encrypted Hero Force reports. The other half is neatly organized with drafting tools and notebooks.
Scott wants me to move in. Itās stuff like thisākeeping a space clear of his chaos for meāthat lets me know he hasnāt given up on the idea. I have my own bathroom set in the master bathroom and clothes in his closet. He always stocks my favorite coffee and jam for toast in the morning. He gave me a key barely three months into us dating and hasnāt stopped asking since.
Iām the one who keeps saying no. I purse my lips as I drop into my chair, pulling some drafting paper towards me. Itās not fair of me to invade any more of his life than I have. If I move in, heāll have to stop having his friends over. Heāll have to hide when heās working and when heās hanging out so that I donāt connect times and locations to identities.
Even more irritated, I draw a rough sketch of a bionanite. Itās wrong, I can tell right away, but itāll take me time to work through all the technical bits. This is part of the process. The tech portion is easier for me than the bio part. If you need any proof that I have a superpower, take a look at my sentient slime and then ask me to balance a formula. I failed organic chemistry in college.
I focus on working. When I put my head down, I hardly know that timeās passing. Itās only the changing light in the room that lets me know when the sun starts to come up.
After the third iteration of the bionanite design, about an hour before I need to make Scott coffee and leave, I throw my pencil down.
Moving in together wouldnāt be fair to me either.
It makes me feel like a total villain to be mad about him asking me, but I am. I love him, I do, but living here, even as a civilian, would be suffocating. Heād be coming in and out at all hours, unable to give me an explanation as to where heās going or when heāll be back. Iād be even more monitored than I am now, the Hero Force and the DOD on my ass to make sure I didnāt say anything I shouldnāt.
I spent so many years making and doing whatever I wanted that the supervision Iām under now chafes. Iām not sure how much more I can take before I snap like I did all those years ago when I first became Madame Science. But how can I explain that to him when heās been nothing but supportive and warm?
Itās not fair of him to ask me, like weāre in a normal relationship. Weāre not. There are so many things we canāt talk about, people he canāt meet that are important to me, people I canāt meet that are important to him.
When we first started dating, I knew itād take time. But every time he asks makes me more and more conscious of just how much time. We have the potential to be really great together, I know we do, but we canāt be together yet. I feel like Iām always the one who has to be practical.
Being the practical one in the relationship is starting to feel like being a new type of villain altogether.
Itās not his fault. Itās not really my fault either even though it feels like it is. I had my reasons for becoming a villain, none of which ever took into consideration that I might fall in love with a hero one day. I should feel fortunate I get a chance to change.
Scottās giving me a chance to change.
I roll up my drawings and try to shake off my negative vibes. Iām grateful, I really am. You can be frustrated and want more but still be grateful for what you have.
I throw together a quick pot of coffee for Scott. Iād planned to wait until he woke, but I donāt really want him to see me like this so early in the morning. I draw a quick heart on the whiteboard pinned to the fridge and head out the door.
Somethingās bothering me about this case still. Hopefully Momento will come through by the time I get home.
Comments
"You can be frustrated and want more but still feel grateful for what you have." Ugh this line hits me so much
