NEON HERO

"Ain't No Rest For The Wicked"

Detective Stone is asked to return to the police station for an interview. It will be the strangest interview in his life.

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Detective Victor Stone hated working with the police. He still remembered the long nights working at the lowest rung of the ladder, watching his superiors take wads of cash from lowlives and stuffing it into their already overflowing pockets.

It made him sick.

He kept his head low, he did his job, and he did it well. And once he had the experience and reputation, he dumped his fair-weather friends to pursue private detective work.

“You were the best man we ever had, Stone.” The chief said with a shake of the head when Victor handed in his badge. He knew it was true. And now he was the best private detective in the city.

It’s why, Detective Stone mused as he cracked open the off-white folder, they kept begging him to come back. He had always said no before, but something about the frantic emails he received made him finally return to the department for an interrogation.

He began reading the files. “Oh for the love of-”

The police department of Las Luces could barely tell their firearms from their own ass. Cases such as this were way beyond their qualifications.

He stopped just outside of the interrogation room. When was the last time he had stepped inside the sound-proofed walls? Behind blinds shut tight? He hadn’t done an interrogation in…years? A decade at least? There should be another officer watching the interview, but there wasn’t a single other person in sight.

On the door of the interrogation room was a single sticky-note. “Went out to lunch. Just do it anyways.”

How…professional. As much as Victor wanted to raise a fuss about this, he didn’t want to stay any longer than he had to.

He could almost picture them at a seedy bar, laughing at lonely Victor at the office. Of course they’d beg for help, then immediately dump all the work on him. Typical.

After briefly flipping through the files, Victor sighed and opened the door.

“I am Detective Victor Stone-” he began the classic spiel, but paused upon seeing the actual person in the chair.

It looked as if a scarecrow had come to life. He looked normal at a quick glance, wearing a pair of farmers overalls, boots, and a red tartan shirt. But normalcy quickly took a turn as Victor took in the man’s large hat, yellow-straw hair and the burlap mask he wore. The only facial features that could be seen were the man’s piercing green eyes and toothy grin.

This was a Villain. Perhaps even a super one.

The walking embodiment of Halloween sneered at Victor, like a cat with a new mouse-shaped toy. “I was startin’ to think ya’ll forgot about me!" His voice was dripping with a southern drawl that wasn't exactly common in the city. "Leavin’ me in this room - are you the cop no one likes or somethin’?” As he spoke, he tugged on the police handcuffs currently on his wrists and keeping him attached to the table.

Victor took a deep breath. “I am Detective Victor Stone. You are-” he briefly flipped open the file. “...Hayday. No civilian name given. You are currently a C-Class villain, and you are here-”

“Only C-Class?” Hayday scoffed. “I like to think of myself a little better than that.”

“C-Class means you are not an active threat to the city, our world, reality, whatever.” Victor said with a handwave, sitting opposite of the man. “You’re a thief at best, a public nuisance at worst.”

Hayday grinned, Victor noticing that he was missing a tooth completely. “It’s what I’m good at! I was always told to stick with what I’m good at. An’ stealing is what I’m very good at.”

Victor was less than impressed. “You seem very casual, for being inside a police building. My colleagues were quick to mention how slippery you’ve been in the past. You realize what’ll happen, correct?”

“Oh, please enlighten me.” Hayday said, his smug, almost playful temperament not budging an inch.

“We’ll take off that ghastly mask you’re wearing.” Victor began to explain. “And then we’ll figure out who you are, and you’ll go to jail. For a long, long, time.”

“Mhm, that’s why I don’ plan on stayin’.” replied Hayday, the epitome of nonchalant. “I don’ mind playing twenty questions though, but then I gotta head home.”

Detective Stone raised an eyebrow at that. “And how do you plan on escaping, exactly?”

“Aww, yer no fun! Nice try, gumshoes.”

This was quite unusual. He had never interviewed a real villain like this before, and Hayday’s nonchalance intrigued him. And really, what kind of detective would he be if he didn’t try and probe further?

“If you wanna play twenty questions, I’m game.” Victor said, eyes narrowed. “What’s your goal, then? Jewelry stores, banks - Hell, I have reports of you just walking out of places-”

“The minimum wage here is seven dollars and twenty five cents.” Hayday answered, still grinning, but it was clearly strained. “Seven dollars. Twenty five cents.” He leaned back, giving Victor a look-over. “Not a problem for ya, eh gumshoes? Mm, ninety thousand a year, right? Must be nice.”

“How…pragmatic of you.” Definitely not the answer he expected. “You’re honestly doing this for rent?”

“Rent, utilities, maybe groceries if I can swing it.” Hayday agreed with a nod. “I’d tell ya how much, but knowing how this whole thing goes, ya’d probably run that by yer tech wizards or whatever, and ya’d find where I live! I definitely don’t want that. I can tell you this much though, it’s a lot more than minimum wage can pay for!”

Victor needed more information. He needed to pin a face behind the mask. A name, an address, real job, family, fingerprints, he needed something concrete. Pulling up the information again, all he saw were empty boxes meant to be filled.

But Victor knew how these went. Just keep them talking, keep them talking. Ask questions, even the stranger ones, and eventually they’ll slip.

“I find it a little baffling you’re doing all of this for rent and utilities.” He said.

Hayday shrugged, placing his hands in his lap, handcuffs clinking as he did so. “Ain’t no rest for the wicked.”

Victor struggled not to roll his eyes. “I just feel like you could use your skill sets for a better purpose. To help people.”

“Wha’ are ya, my guidance counselor?”

“Let me rephrase. You could use your skill sets to get a decent job. One with good pay.”

Still grinning, he snarked, “Oh, get a real job? Why didn’ I think of that!? Do they pay ya double for good ideas, gumshoes? Yeah. I tried that. Criminal record makes it tricky.”

“You have a criminal record?” Victor asked, making a mental note of that.

“I know, I know. Real shock, ain’t it?”

Progress was progress. No matter how small.

Victor folded his hands on the table. “I may be able to sway the guys here to give you a job, you know. They’re good guys, you know.” (Ugh, saying that left an awful taste in his mouth.) “Having someone with your expertise would be invaluable. They pay isn’t that bad, either-”

Hayday burst into laughter; loud and cackling laughter that echoed in the soundproof room. Victor knew it was a bit of a longshot, but this reaction seemed a bit over the top.

“When you are done, we can continue.” he grumbled.

“Y-You and I-” Hayday continued between fits of stifled laughter. “Y-You and I both know that the police is rotten to the fuckin’ core. I’ve seen the bribes, I’ve seen them plant evidence, and I know that ya seen this too. You can sit there and preach to me about how I’m wasting my talents, what are YOU doin’ here?!”

“I am not the one currently in a police interrogation room wearing a burlap sack on my head.” Victor deadpanned. “How did no one manage to take off your mask, anyway?”

“When they tried, I bit ‘em.”

“Of course you did.” Victor was getting nowhere. Appealing to the man’s desire for financial stability wasn’t working. He needed to try a different angle. “How old are you, really? You don’t sound that old. 23? 24?”

“Ding Ding Ding! Yer good!”

“You got a family, kid?”

“Doesn’t everybody?”

Detective Stone tapped on the papers with his knuckles. “I just…it’s so hard, telling the family. Knocking on doors, no one wants to hear their baby is…well. The mothers, oh, they never take it well.”

For the first time during the interrogation, Hayday seemed to hesitate. He didn’t immediately shoot back with a smug attitude or with a reply dripping with sarcasm. “They don’t seriously knock on doors, do they?”

Bingo.

“Oh, yes. It’s a must, you know.” he continued, nonchalant. “Showing up in person really helps the truth set in. When I was still in the force, I had to go to so many doorsteps. ‘Oh, hullo Miss Johnson, I’m so sorry, we had to take little Jimmy in today-’, that whole thing.”

Hayday said nothing. Victor stared at him.

“...your mother doesn’t know, huh?” Detective Stone asked after a moment.

“I’d like to keep it that way.” he replied, an air of anxiety that wasn’t in his voice before.

“And I can help with that. If you cooperate, and tell us what we want to know, we can help.”

Hayday seemed so small, slumped in his chair. “Wha…what do ya want?”

“Take off your mask. Tell us your name. Do the right thing, son.”

With a long, tired sigh, Hayday’s head dipped down. His hat obscured his face from view entirely. “...fine. But ya gotta promise me that my momma won’t ever find out.”

“I promise.” Victor lied.

“M..My name.” he began to say, voice cracking with apprehension. Victor could hear his handcuffs clinking as he wrung his hands under the table.

Victor leaned closer. “It’s alright son. You can tell me.”

Hayday moved quickly. Before Victor could even register what happened, the handcuffs were around his wrist now, connecting him to the metal bar on the table.

As Victor blinked, dumbfounded, Hayday stood and began to chuckle. “Damn, I’m good, ain’t I?"

The realization was finally dawning upon him as Detective Stone tugged on the handcuffs currently around his wrists. “H-How did-”

“Oh, better take these.” The man strolled to the other side of the table, removing the ring of keys from Victor’s belt. “Yeah, don’t want you leavin’ anytime soon, gumshoes.”

“How did you do that?!” Victor demanded, tugging harder on his wrist. The handcuffs clinked, a reminder that he was stuck to the table, which itself was bolted to the floor.

Hayday snapped his fingers and with a shit eating grin replied, “I’m damn good at lockpicking. That should get me a B-rank, eh? Lockpicking? That’ll impress the pigs-”

“What about the deal we had?!” Detective Stone barked. “About telling us to protect your identity?! Was all of that just a lie?!"

“Oooh, nice try. Knew you were lyin’ to me. Tryin’ to butter me up so I’d talk. Ain’t my first time in the interrogation seat.” he shrugged, hands raised in a defensive gesture. “Just…not as Hayday.”

“Oh! And while I’m here-” Hayday reached over into Detective Stone’s pockets, revealing the man’s wallet with the flourish of a streetside magician. “Very good at pickpocketing, too.”

“That is MINE-”

“Carrying twenties? Very nice.” already rummaging through the wallet, Hayday practically purred. “This should cover the cost of my time.”

“You could’ve done this at anytime.” Victor practically spat. “Why did you even bother? With the acting-"

“That wasn't acting. I didn't lie to ya once." Tossing the wallet onto the table (but just out of reach), Hayday spun on his heel towards the door. “I’ll be taking my leave, gumshoes. Next time ya catch me, better hope you have something better than cuffs like those.”

He snorted as he opened the interrogation door. “If ya catch me at all.”

Closing the door, Victor groaned as he heard it lock behind him. He slowly set his head down against the table, knowing that no one would come looking for him for hours at least.

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Victor tossed the pack of cigarettes, a package of muffins, and a cold coffee drink onto the checkstand. “Just this.” he grumbled, not wanting to divulge in small talk with the cashier.

Just as he predicted, it was hours before someone stumbled into the interrogation room to let him go. It wasn’t even an officer, it was the poor janitor who found him. All in all, he just wanted to forget the night ever happened, and move on.

The cashier, clearly not taking the hint, gave him a tired little grin. “Rough night, hm?”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“Aww, c’mon. Try me! I see a lot at this job.” the cashier replied, brushing some of his blonde hair from his face before starting to scan. “I won’t tell nobody, honest.”

Victor gave the young man a cold look. “No. Confidential. Nice try.”

The cashier quietly chuckled at that, and in a tired voice muttered, “Aww, yer no fun. But alright. Your total is twelve-seventy-three.”

Victor paused for only a moment. No. No it couldn’t be. He shook his head and pulled out his credit card.

(He preferred using cash. But he was a bit short on cash after last night.)

“Do you want your receipt?”

“No. Keep it.” he said, grabbing his things and turning to leave. “I don’t plan on returning these items.”

The cashier gave him a little wave as he left. Once he was sure the other man was gone, the cashier grinned, his large smile missing a tooth. He hissed, “Have a good day, detective…”

"Two Wrongs Do Make a Right"

"(In this Extremely Specific Scenario)"

"Dragonfly hears of a museum heist that Snake Eyes is planning, and decided to steal the Dragon Eye Ruby before they can. In addition, she decides to use this as a way to learn more about her failed assassin, Hayday.

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It was generally accepted that Superheroes do not steal.

Superheroes have a verbal contract, as it were. Unstated by most but very well known; to protect their city and the people inside it. Methods and motives vary, but this rule kept things simple.

Dragonfly planned on breaking that rule.

She had never liked being conventional. She didn’t work with cops, rarely worked with the local government. She didn’t have powers from the heavens or radioactive spills, and she certainly wasn’t rolling in cash right now. She protected her city and she protected her people, she just did it her own way.

And while she was skilled in hand-to-hand combat and all different kinds of technology, actually robbing a museum was beyond her normal capabilities.

So, here she was. Dragonfly in all of her neon glory, pacing on a rooftop. Her blue goggles only added to her insect-namesake, her thick curls trimmed short to not interfere with the mechanisms of her wing-pack. “I just worry about the security. And the cameras. Security cameras,” she rambled. “Being physically seen robbing a museum wouldn’t be ideal.”

“Mhm. No. I imagine it would not be.”

With her was her partner; Clay. A being made of ever-shifting liquid earth, his voice often flat and monotone. Even now, as she nervously paced on the rooftops, he sat idly by, letting bits of himself drip onto the floor with a half-lidded expression.

“Dragonfly,” said Clay, his voice heavy like syrup. “I have never been inside a museum before. It cannot be that difficult. I think you are stressing yourself out. I will take care of the cameras.”

“I think it’s more the robbing- wait. Wait, you've never been? Holy shit, okay. When we’re done with this, I promise I’ll take you to a museum,” she said with a faint smile. “One with lots of hands-on stuff for you to play with.”

“I would very much enjoy that,” Despite the kind offer, Clay’s tone didn’t change. “I am still unhappy with the main part of your plan. Working with him.”

Right. Hayday.

Dragonfly and Clay didn’t have many people they could trust. Another terrible truth that came with the job. Dragonfly had no other living family and Clay’s origins were a total mystery. Their flippant attitude with the local cops and government did them no favors in terms of allies.

And in a sea of criminals, smugglers, gangsters, mobsters, murders, aliens, eldritch beings, and whatever other nonsensical weirdos that had it out for the pair, Hayday was…an exception.

Hayday was a bit of an enigma. No delusions of grandeur, no plans for world domination. As far as Dragonfly and Clay could tell, he was just a dude who dressed up like a scarecrow to hide his identity and commit petty crimes.

“Yeah, yeah. I know you don’t,” Dragonfly sighed. “But please, give him a chance? I went through the trouble of finding him just before he robbed a convenience store to talk to him. It’s either Hayday or cops.”

Clay relented on this, if only slightly. He took a breath, then exhaled. “Olivia...I do not like cops. But I also do not like Him. The first time we met him-”

“I believe in second chances,” She said, aware of the seriousness of him using her real name. “Besides. We need him-”

“-Cuz ya don’t know how to pick locks,” Clambering up the fire escape to join them upon the roof was the man himself. In a striking contrast from Dragonfly's slick, modern look, Hayday looked like he stepped right out of a cornfield; dirty overalls, wide-brimmed stetson hat, a burlap mask that covered most of his face.

Clay stood, shoulders - or what could be generally considered shoulders given his anatomy - tensed and his brow furrowed. "You are late."

"In case ya haven't noticed, Clay-Dough, but we are currently on top of the museum? They don't exactly want people on the roof. D'ya know how hard it was to climb up here?" Hayday shot back. "Can we maybe meet up somewhere closer to ground level next time?"

"I hope there will not be a next time," Clay hissed, voice dangerously quiet. "And my name is Clay."

"The building schematics says this should be a maintenance entrance." Dragonfly brushed aside their comments with a brief explanation. She gestured to a locked door, no doubt guarding a stairwell. “It’s locked, and you’re the best lockpick we know.”

“You are the only lockpick we know,” Clay clarified.

Hayday looked between the locked door and the two. “Why not have Clay-Dough break down the door? Or slip under it?

“I could-” Clay began to say.

“No,” she said sharply. “I don’t want any real damage here. I want a quick in-and-out operation.” She didn’t quite answer his second option, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Operation? Don’ be so coy, now,” Hayday said with a sneer, rummaging in his pockets. “Yer stealin’. Stop actin’ high and mighty.”

Removing some thin tools from his pockets, Hayday gave the door a cursory glance. “Hm. I’m gonna guess a double cylinder deadbolt. Should be easy.”

Dragonfly and Clay couldn’t help but try and look over his shoulder, seeing slivers of silver tools inserted into the lock. If they focused, they could hear subtle clicks beneath the rumbling city ambiance. It only took him a moment.

A clank. Hayday pulled back, the door opening with him. “There.”

“How did you do that?” Clay demanded. “That took no time at all!”

Hayday gave him an unimpressed stare. “Ya ever hear the phrase ‘a magician never reveals his secrets’, Clay-Dough?”

“No. What does that mean?”

“It means ‘tough shit’,” Hayday turned to Dragonfly and snapped his fingers. “Right. Pay up. I helped ya, and now ya owe me-”

“We’re not done?” she said, tilting her head slowly at him. “You said you’d help, and we’re not done? This is only step one.”

Even with the burlap mask he was wearing, the confusion was clear on his face. “...care to run that by me again?”

“We asked for your help with taking the Dragon’s Eye Ruby, currently housed on the first floor of the museum. I got a tip that Snake Eyes planned on taking it, so Clay and I decided to take it before them-”

“And plant a fake, yeah, yeah. I got that part,” Hayday hissed, gesturing for Dragonfly to stop talking. “And I did help. I unlocked the door. That’s as far as my involvement should go. What else do ya want me to do?”

“Help us take the ruby?” Clay offered. “You have experience, do you not?”

“I suppose. Experienced enough to know that I’ve already triggered the silent alarm,” he said with a wry smile. “Y’all got about ten minutes. Twenty if traffic is bad - and let’s be honest, it always is.”

Clay’s form began bubbling like a pot of water. A rare flash of anger crept into his voice. “You knew this, but you did not tell us?!”

“Clay, cool it,” Dragonfly said, placing a hand on his ‘shoulder’, not caring for his goopy nature. “We won’t be that long, with any luck. Besides, we’re at stage two now, and that’s you.”

Taking a deep breath, Clay steadied himself. “Right. Right. I am sorry. I will go in and destroy the cameras.” He turned to Hayday, pointing at him. “If you try anything while I am away. You will regret it.”

Without another word, Clay completely melted. His humanoid form sloughing away like a warm candle, slithering through the door like a mud-covered snake.

Hayday waited a moment before turning to her. “I’ve done my part, Dragon. Just pay up, and lemme leave. I don’ wanna be here any longer than I have to.”

“Not until the job is done,” she replied, staring intently at the door for Clay’s return. “Once the ruby is in my hands, I’ll give you what you want.”

He glowered at her. “Yer killin’ me, I hope ya know. What do ya want from me? Ya want me to hold yer hand the entire time? What’s yer angle?” His voice grew softer, more hesitant. “Why do you really want me here? After I-”

“Tried to kill me?” she asked, finally looking up at him. He couldn’t look her in the eyes. She continued. “But you didn’t. That’s the key thing. You had the opportunity. But you said it yourself. You couldn’t.”

Finally, he met her gaze. “It’s…that’s just not who I am.”

“Who are you, then?”

He didn’t respond to that.

Her goggles lit up, the soft blue glow illuminating her dark face. A police report flashed on her heads-up display. “The cops are on their way.”

“Great! Great! Perfect! Ah told ya they would be!” Hayday began pacing. “What are ya gonna do about the rest of the security measures, dare I ask? The guards, the proximity alarm?”

“I’ve been carefully tracking the pattern of the security for several days now. If worst comes to worst, we can knock them out-”

“WE?!”

“- As for the proximity alarm, hopefully we’ll be gone by then. The cops are already coming, what are they gonna do? Send more?”

“YES?!”

Clay opened the door, gesturing for them. “The cameras have been destroyed. I have caused a distraction for the guards on the first floor-”

Dragonfly interrupted. “They’re still alive, though, right?”

He blinked at her. “Yes. My distraction caused no damage. As far as I am aware.”

“Clay-Dough, that is not reassurin’,” Hayday wheezed, sounding like a strange combination of a laugh and a choke.

“While normally I would question that statement to Hell and back, we’re really short on time here,” said Dragonfly, glancing back at the police report on her HUD. “The case with the Ruby should have a lock on it.”

She gave Hayday an expectant look. “Please?”

Hayday glared back. Clay glanced between the two of them, unsure which side to take.

"Fine. I'll stick around for now. But so help me, if there is even a whisper of trouble, I am gone. Understand?" Hayday finally said, his voice a quiet, strained hiss.

Dragonfly seemed pleased. "Thanks. We really appreciate it."

"I hold no strong feelings on this matter," Clay muttered. "Do not drag me into this."

"Ladies first," Hayday said with a wave of the hand, encouraging Dragonfly to take the lead.

She rolled her eyes at that, but stepped forward to enter, her faint glow of her goggles and gloves illuminating the dark stairwell. Clay followed, his footsteps quietly sloshing behind her. Hayday went last, closing the maintenance door behind them.

“What happens if Snake Eyes finds out?” Hayday whispered in the darkness of the maintenance tunnels. “He and I aren’t exactly on good speakin’ terms.”

“Why?” Clay twisted his neck like an owl to ask directly.

The man hesitated, fiddling with his hat. “I…erm, well, he offered me a job. I wasn’t able to do it, and I kinda…haven’t spoken to him since?”

An uncomfortable silence fell over them.

Snake Eyes had men in every little nook and cranny of the city. The fact that Hayday had managed to avoid them all was both impressive and concerning. You couldn’t just ‘not speak’ to Snake Eyes; not forever, at least.

“That was not smart of you,” Clay finally said, swiveling his head back to normal.

Dragonfly slowly opened the door to what looked like the storage area, wincing at the creaking metal. “This should be the first floor. Let’s go do the switcheroo, and then we can bail. Don’t touch anything.”

“She is referring to you,” Clay whispered, giving Hayday a look. “Thief.”

She nudged Clay with a grumble. “Be nice.”

“I’m not stupid,” Hayday shot back. “Most everythin’ will have a proximity sensor.”

The three of them stalked through the darkened museum, taking care to stick to the shadows when applicable. The displays seemed practically ghoulish in the low light, with some of them quite literally looming over them.

"I do not want to visit a museum anymore," Clay whispered.

The Dragon's Eye Ruby, being a new exhibit, was very prominently displayed. The gem itself was a brilliant gradient of reds, purples, and oranges, and about the size of a large fist. Right in the middle of the room, contained within a glass box. The bottom of the box had a lock on it.

"Hayday, can you please-" Dragonfly began to say.

But Hayday pushed past her before she could finish. "Yeah, yeah, I'm on it. But ya better be ready to make the switch. Once that proximity alarm goes off, it's going to be loud."

As he began carefully stepping closer, a loud boom shook the museum. The ground and walls shook, the various exhibits clinking and clattering in their cases.

"...Dragonfly?" Hayday slowly turned to her. "When was the heist supposed to happen?"

"Not until tomorrow…" she slowly trailed off. "Shit."

While Dragonfly wanted their version of the heist to be as clean and neat as possible, Snake Eyes and his goons had no such qualms about collateral damage.

Sirens screamed throughout the museum. "I didn' do that!" Hayday yelped, stumbling backwards.

"They must have moved the heist date," Said Clay. "Oh no. How terrible. We definitely did not expect this-”

"Wait, wait! This is a great thing!" Dragonfly grabbed onto Clay's arm, fingers sinking ever-so-slightly into him. "We can just fight them here and now and really send Snake Eyes a message! With Hayday helping, I bet we could totally-"

"Hayday is leaving."

Dragonfly glanced over to where Clay was pointing, seeing Hayday already having picked the window lock and beginning to open it.

"H-Hey!" She called after him. "Don't go!"

"No! I told ya! I did NOT sign up for a fight! I was here to pick locks!" He snarled, already swinging one leg over the threshold to climb out. "Look. The job Snake Eyes gave me? Was to kill you. If his men see me with ya and blab to Snake Eyes, I'm in for a world of hurt!"

"If we work together and scare them off, imagine the message that’ll send! With your help-"

"Ya still want my help?! Then take my advice. BUZZ OFF. Yer not gonna win this fight, Dragon. Give up. Ya failed. If ya stay here, you’re gonna get killed."

Dragonfly stared at him for a moment, before her mild surprise twisted into a deep frown. “In a life or death situation… your first instinct was to get yourself out of danger? You were completely content in leaving Clay and I to die?”

There was an unpleasant silence that followed.

“W-Well. No. No,” he eventually stammered, trying very hard not to make eye contact. “I-I would’ve-”

Whatever he was trying to say, she didn’t let him finish. “You were! You were! You were going to ditch us to die! I get wanting to leave, and I get being hesitant to help, but you were fine with! With!”

“N-Now just hold on-” Hayday had almost appeared to shrink into himself, partially trying to climb out the window and partially trying to put distance between him and Dragonfly.

She leaned in close, her voice a near hiss. “Earlier, I asked who you were. You’re a cowardly, spineless thief. And you may not like blood on your hands, but you certainly don’t mind it splattering your boots as you run.”

Leaning a bit too far out the window in response to the verbal lashing, Hayday yelped as his hand slipped, and he promptly fell backwards out the window. There was a great clamor of noise - glass bottles, metal cans, crinkling of plastic and paper, the noises of trash. Even after everything, Dragonfly struggled to resist the urge to check on him, to make sure he wasn’t hurt.

She forced herself away from the window, turning to her partner. “Clay, I know this is silly to ask, but are you ready for a fight?”

“Yes. Yes. God, yes.” He answered, fists already raised. Then he thought for a moment. “Where is Hayday?”

"He left." Was all Dragonfly said. But Clay knew her tone of voice well enough to get the picture.

"Ah. I am not surprised. He is a criminal. All criminals are the same. They are bad. And they cannot change. I am happy he is gone."

She felt like she should've disputed that. She instead settled on giving him a disapproving look.

Dragonfly had more important things to focus on right now. Such as the suspicious shuffling from the closed door just to their right.

"How many of them do you think there will be?" Clay whispered, fists raised.

"I'm going to guess six." She replied, turning on her combat gloves. When active, they could deliver a terrible electrical shock, usually just enough to stun. Even as the wielder, she could feel the familiar tingle run through her bones. "You know how Snake Eyes loves his dice motifs."

"Ah. True."

The henchmen burst down the door not a moment sooner, some of them expressing surprise at the pair being there first. The rest of them merely gripped their weapons a little tighter.

Eight of them. A six and a two. Easy eight. She was a bit off on the numbers. Thank God none of them carried firearms, so sure that they wouldn't face any resistance, they had only brought crowbars. Of course crowbars still had the capacity to hurt, something that Dragonfly hoped to avoid.

(Clay, as far as she knew, seemed completely impervious to physical damage. The crowbars would just thunk into his body, leaving a strange indent, but nothing more.)

Three of them rushed her.

Living up to her namesake, Dragonfly was constantly moving. Darting across the room, looking for a weakness in their defenses to strike. The room was far too small to use her wings, but even without them she was quick. They were just hired muscle, and not even very good ones.

They aimed for her face, the whiff of crowbars sailing just over her as she ducked. And when they inevitably missed, she’d aim for the belly; the surge of electricity from her gloves shocking their systems and giving her the time to dart away once more.

If she was lucky, they’d stay down for the rest of the fight, twitching and unconscious. If she wasn’t lucky, they’d be stunned for only a moment before returning to the fray.

But even as they fought, they couldn’t keep track of all the crooks at the same time. In the corner of her eye, she could see one of the men start to pick the lock to the ruby’s case. “Clay!” she shouted, narrowly dodging a crowbar.

“Currently occupied!” Clay shouted back, grabbing two of the men by their collars to restrain them.

The man grabbed the ruby from the case, sirens screaming all the while. Upon seeing an opening, she shouted, “Clay! Take over! Like we practiced!” she said, thought for a half a second, then quickly added. “Do NOT kill anyone!”

She bolted as Clay lost all pretense of human form, shifting into tendrils to grab and disarm like a horrifying claymation octopus. She normally did not like leaving him alone in fights (especially like this), and not because she was worried for his safety. But seeing the thing she came here specifically to protect currently slipping from her fingers prompted her to temporarily disregard this concern.

Nearly slipping on the museum floors, Dragonfly chased after the crook with the ruby. “HEY! Stop right there!”

He did not stop. Dragonfly wasn’t sure what she expected.

She certainly wasn’t expecting the handle of a broom to swing from a doorway to beam the man in the face, knocking him to the ground. The ruby clattered to the floor, doing more damage to the floor than the actual gem itself.

Sliding to a stop by the groaning man currently slowly writhing on the floor, she looked to see who was holding the broomstick. And she was honestly surprised to see Hayday standing there, panting as if he had ran a mile

“You came back-”

“WHY ARE YA STILL HERE?! What part of ‘If ya stay here you’ll get killed’ or ‘the cops will be here soon’ did not get through to ya?!”

Dragonfly blinked at him, baffled. “Because I don’t run from fights?”

Huffing, clearly not happy with that answer, Hayday gestured to the ruby with the broom. “Well, get the stupid gem and let’s split.”

“We may not need to,” she picked up the ruby with careful hands, holding the cold stone close to her chest. “If Clay managed to beat up the rest, we can simply say that we got here only moments after and stopped the robbery. The police and the news don’t need to know our original plan.”

“Lyin’ to authorities, breakin’ and enterin’, takin’ gems from museums, are ya sure you’re a hero, Dragon?” Hayday asked with a lopsided grin.

Dragonfly did not answer, stiffly turning and starting to walk back.

“H-Hey! Hey!” he quickly gave chase. “Are ya mad? Yer mad. But I came back! Look. Look. I’m sorry. Really, I am!” Hayday said. Maybe it was the lack of the smarmy attitude that he had since the very beginning. But something about it sounded genuine to Dragonfly.

Genuine or not, his timing was poor. “Let’s have this talk when we’re not in a museum full of sirens with the police on their way, kay?”

“Good plan. Good plan.”

Returning to the room where the ruby was originally kept, Dragonfly and Hayday were met with men unconscious or in stages of stupor, lying around like ragdolls. “Holy shit,” Hayday quietly muttered. “Clearly ya didn’ need me-”

Clay reformed upon seeing Dragonfly, taking his human shape. “They are still alive. I have checked,” he quickly reassured her.

“That’s awesome!” she said, carefully returning the ruby to its place. “You’re making great progress in not killing people.”

A rare smile graced Clay’s face. However, the smile died almost immediately upon realizing Hayday had returned. “Oh. I was hoping you had left. For good.”

“Yer not gettin’ rid of me that that easy, Clay-Dough.”

Dragonfly carefully put the gem back on its place, followed by the glass case.

“The staff is gonna have to test it anyways,” said Hayday. “Really, this whole thing was pointless.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” she hummed. “I feel like I’ve learned a lot from this endeavor.”

“...that makes no sense.”

The sirens of the museum proximity alarms were replaced with the sirens of police cars. “And now it’s time we leave!” The three of them bolted for the maintenance stairs. And once on the roof, they kept running; traveling from rooftop to rooftop until the red and blue lights and police silence blended into the usual city rumble.

Dragonfly and Clay turned to Hayday, who was currently wheezing like he had just run a marathon, hands on his knees, almost doubled over.

“For someone so quick to flee, you do not have good stamina," Clay muttered.

“Why’d you even come back?” asked Dragonfly.

“Because-” he said between breaths, “Because I didn’ mean to leave ya.”

Dragonfly crossed her arms over her chest as Clay loomed behind her, the pair of them silently urging him to continue.

“It’s just…” he stood straight, kicking at the cement under his feet. “I’ve been workin’ solo for…years now. When shit started hittin’ the fan, I worked on instinct. And my instincts told me to hit the bricks. You two didn’ deserve that. ‘M sorry.”

“OK. Where is the rest of the apology?” Clay said slowly, eyes narrowing.

“...what else am I apologizin’ for?”

“Being a thief. Being a criminal. Attempted murder-” Clay began to list on his fingers.

Hayday sheepishly smiled, “Oh. Yeah, I ain’ apologizin’ for that.”

“Well, I appreciate the apology,” said Dragonfly with a nod. “And I’m appreciative for the help. My plan wouldn’t have worked without you.”

“It was an alright plan,” Hayday admitted. “I’m sure it would’ve gone off withouta hitch, if they didn’ move the date of their heist.”

Dragonfly snorted. “Yeah. ‘Moved the date’. Sure.”

Hayday paused. He opened his mouth, closed it again, thought for a moment, then finally managed to ask, “You…you knew they were comin’ today, didn’t ya?”

She smiled. “Course we did. We’re no rookies, we know what we’re doing. When I bugged the office that a few of Snake Eyes’ lawyers work in, they practically told me everything.”

“So ya lied to me? Told me that they were comin’ another day, manufacturin’ all of this? For what? I don’t get it.”

“I told you why at the very beginning. I wanted to know who you are. A test of character.”

"I tried to convince her otherwise," Clay added, his voice slow and languid. "But I could not sway her."

Hayday stared at her, arms crossed over his chest, head tilted and mouth slightly agape.

But she continued regardless. “I remember, when you tried to kill me. You were shaking so bad, you know. You said you couldn’t do it, and you vanished off into the night.”

“I think…” Dragonfly looked him up and down. “...you’re a good person. I think that deep down, underneath all the sarcasm and snark and all of…this,” (She gestured to his outfit as she said this,) “You are a good person.”

Hayday continued to stare. She wasn’t sure if it was confusion, or disbelief, or maybe she had just broken him. “Ya honestly think. That after everything. That I’m a good person?”

“Yeah.”

There was a moment of contemplative silence. She could see him working something out in his head. Then, with a deep, rumbling sigh, he reached into his pockets to pull out a jewel-laden necklace. “Here. I swiped it earlier, when ya weren’t lookin’. Take it before I change my mind.”

"I knew it," Clay hissed. "He is a thief. He will always be a thief."

"I gave the damn thing back, didn't I?!" Hayday snapped. "I coulda kept it!"

"You really shouldn't have taken this. Like. The entire point of asking you to help us was to prevent museum theft." She said, carefully taking the necklace from his hand. “But I appreciate the honesty? Albeit delayed?”

"Ya didn't say I couldn't steal," He snapped his fingers. "That reminds me. You owe me. And I'd like to collect now."

It was Dragonfly’s turn to sigh. "Clay. Wallet please."

Clay shoved a hand into his own body, not unlike how one would rummage through the mud to find a missing shoe. After a moment, he pulled a wallet from his chest. "Here."

The two silently traded, Clay inserting the necklace into his body for safekeeping as Dragonfly rummaged through her soggy wallet.

Hayday was silently disgusted by the entire exchange, but the prospect of payment helped him mask this feeling.

She handed over a plastic card. He snatched it, proceeding to give it a confused look-over. With absolutely no emotion in his voice, he asked, "...is this a fifty dollar gift card to IHop?"

"I enjoy their cinnamon roll pancakes," Clay said, confirming Hayday's question and inadvertently creating at least a dozen more.

"You wanted payment. You never specified how. But if you don't want it-" Dragonfly reached over to take the card back.

But he quickly put the gift card in his pocket, "Nope, nope, mine now. In the future, I'd like something a bit more rewarding, mind."

Dragonfly beamed at him. "Next time, huh?"

Hayday paused, as if he only just realized what he said. "Look. We ain't friends. I ain't a good person. I'm only doin' this because I'm in a good mood, and I like being paid. Got it?"

"Buuuuut?" She pressed.

He waved his hand dismissively. "...buuuut I wouldn't be completely opposed to working with you two again. But in the future, don't lie to me, and I don't take gift cards."

She took his outstretched hand, giving it a firm shake, much to his confusion. "It's a deal!"

Dragonfly finished the handshake, glancing at Clay expectantly. But he just slowly shook his head. "We should be leaving. The police will be searching the area soon."

"Right, right!" Dragonfly chirped, her smile near infectious. "This was a good day! Tomorrow we'll return the necklace."

Her backpack whirred to life, two pairs of neon blue wings forming from electrical components tucked inside. Clay had already left, using his semi-solid form to quickly dart off to another rooftop.

"I'll keep in contact," She told Hayday, wings buzzing as she lifted off the ground. “Can you get home by yourself?”

“Aah, don’t worry ‘bout me. I have my ways.”

“You are quite the mystery, Hayday.”

He shot her a hesitant grin. "I wouldn’t want it any other way. And I'm…uh…Sorry for trying to kill ya," He shrugged. "Way back then."

"It's alright." She smiled. "I forgive you."