My Girlfriend Is Terrifying [Worm Au][Taylor x Victoria x Lisa]

[Gowonzu]

A/N: Hey, this isn't a proper chapter, Sorry. Just a silly little snippet.
I've been working on other projects and been struggling to find motivation to write. But I'll get back onto this eventually.

---

Victoria flew like she'd never flown before. Cutting through the sky like a laser-guided missile, locking on to her target and ready to drop her payload with military precision.

"And another one for Glory Girl!" Vicky cheered as she slam-dunked the basketball through the hoop.

Taylor and Lisa sat on the floor behind her, mercilessly pushed out of the way from their pitiful defence. What started as a friendly game of shooting hoops in the Dallon's backyard quickly devolved into a 2-V-1 battle as Victoria's competitive side kicked in. Neither girl was a match for Victoria's skill, and that was before she started floating.

"Jesus Vicky…" Lisa panted, lying back down on the floor. "Could you… at least… pretend, to care about us, mere mortals…"

Taylor stood up beside her and brushed herself down, offering a hand to Lisa. At the same time, she shot Victoria a begrudged glare.

"I thought you agreed not to use powers?" Taylor whined, helping Lisa to her feet.

Victoria hovered down from above and gave an apologetic smile to her two girlfriends.

"Sorry, sorry," She giggled, making a show of planting both her feet on the ground. "Next round, I'll do it properly."

Both Lisa and Taylor stared at her, not believing a word that came out from those lying lips.

"That's what you said, the last fourteen times…" Lisa grumbled.

"I think we learned why Amy stopped playing this with you…" Taylor added under her breath.

"Okay, okay," Victoria said, jumping side to side in a warm-up, spending far too long in the air than humanly possible. "Taylor starts, I'll be defence this time."

Vicky passed the ball to Taylor who caught it with a pained thud. Taylor had never been all that interested in sports. Running for exercise was important, but throwing a ball around for fun, was not. Still, she made the effort for her girlfriend's sake, although she made a mental note never to play dodgeball with Vicky.

"Ready…" Victoria said, already leaning forward. Taylor couldn't help but feel hopeless in the face of what was about to come. "And…. Go!"

Taylor dribbled the ball forward and made her shot, the ball flew all of one second before Victoria inhumanly jumped up and smacked it back down, denying any hope for Taylor to score a point. Lisa tiredly moved to collect the ball, only for Vicky to body shove the girl out of the way and launch a distant shot directly into the hoop.

"Score!" Victoria cheered. "Dallon holds the lead with another three points!"

Lisa was lying face down on the grass, Taylor wasn't even sure if Lisa was playing in that last round, it looked more like she'd assumed the ball went out of bounds and was simply collecting it before Victoria barged through and did her thing. Taylor stepped around Vicky as she cheered and danced to help Lisa up.

"Maybe we should take a break?" Taylor asked, picking some stray bits of grass from Lisa's hair. "For lunch?"

"Hmm?" Victoria hummed back, still unaware of her trail of destruction. "Oh, yeah. Sure." Lisa and Taylor let out a sigh of relief as they were spared another round of basketball with collateral damage Barbie. "Mom!?" Victoria called out as she walked back towards the house. "Can we order pizza for Lisa and Taylor?"

"Inside voices Victoria." Carol scolded, looking out from the living room window.

"Sorry. Mom," Vicky said back a little quieter.

"I suppose you all worked up an appetite out there?" Carol muttered, already moving towards the family phone. "I'll order us the usual."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Thank you, Mrs Dallon."

"Thank's Carol."

Carol moved to grab the phone before she called back though the window. "Oh, and remember we need to go over cards for Thursday's charity dinner."

Victoria let out a long, grumbly whine at the request. "Urgh, Yes Moooom…" She turned back to the girls and rolled her eyes. "It's always work with her…"

"Cards?" Lisa asked. Victoria only just noticed her state of disarray, dirty and sore. Victoria's eyebrow rose in question, but Lisa waved her off.

"Flashcards to memorise speeches," Victoria explained. "New Wave always make a big song and dance at these charity events, and since I'm full-time now, I get to perform the big speech this year."

"Oh, nice," Lisa said.

"No, it's the worst," Vicky grumbled. "I hate speeches..."

"I'd have thought you would enjoy them?" Lisa laughed. "Another excuse to be showered in all that attention you crave."

Victoria shook her head. "It's not the same," She tried to explain, ignoring Lisa's verbal jab.

"Like, I'm fine interacting with groups of people, signing autographs, taking photos, showing off for the kids at the hospital," Vicky smiled, thinking fondly about her positive fan experiences. "But get me to stand up in front of a thousand blank faces just to listen to me and I…" She shivered, imaging the scenario.

Taylor walked up beside her and planted a comforting hand on Victoria's shoulder.

"I understand, completely," She added, nodding her head. "I hate public speaking. Absolutely hate it. The idea of-"

"Bullshit."

Taylor froze at the accusation, slowly turning to face Lisa who held her smug grin.

"What?"

"I call bullshit," Lisa said again. "Taylor Hebert, you are lying. You looooove making speeches."

"When have I ever?-" Taylor began.

"Delivering Coil to Armsmaster, rescuing yourself from Rune, just the other week when you tried and failed to convince Vicky's Mom that Rachel was a good person." Lisa listed off her finger. "And let's not forget all the speeches you give the men during the week."

"That's not… I don't…" Taylor looked offended by the accusation, she turned to Vicky for clarification. "Do I?"

"You kinda do," Victoria agreed, smiling apologetically as she patted Taylor back.

Taylor took a few moments to dissect this new information about herself. She never considered herself a speech-giving person. And Skitter was just a persona, it didn't represent the real Taylor Hebert, right?

And surely, Skitter couldn't have made that many speeches to warrant her girlfriend's calling her someone who loves speeches.

In response to her doubts and look of confusion, Lisa pulled up a video on her phone. A Youtube page, titled 'Skitter Declares War– Autotuned edition.' Taylor blinked at it wordlessly.

It featured several different publicly filmed speeches, spliced together with music to give the appearance of Skitter rapping about declaring war on increasingly ridiculous targets. Starting off with the police, then the Empire and PRT and eventually ending with her declaring war on the Triumvirate and even the Endbringers themselves.

Taylor was silent while the video played, scowling as both Lisa and Vicky bobbed their heads to the catchy tune.

"What the hell?…" Taylor finally mouthed when the video stopped playing. She looked to Lisa for an explanation. Lisa kept smiling, smugly aware that her point had been proven tenfold. Adding insult to injury, she scrolled up along her phone to point out another important fact.

"It has two million views…"

 

[Gowonzu]

A/N: Another lil snippet. Wrote this on my phone while at work.

---

A lonely fly climbed it's way up to comfort. Given a singular purpose, to seek out and watch over those it loved.

Lisa watched as the fly crawled its way up her desk. Even without her powers, the fact that the bug chose to climb instead of flap its wings gave away that Taylor was in control.

In another part of the base, Skitter worked closely with Parian to outfit their lieutenants for the upcoming war.

A distance of hallways and rooms separated the two girls, and yet Taylor made sure to send a bug Lisa's way—not to watch her, not to keep eyes on the base in general, just to be near her.

Lisa smiled down at the fly, offering a gloved finger for the bug to climb on. The insect snuggled up between her index and her thumb, watching Lisa work with its five bug eyes.

One fly wasn't enough for Taylor to communicate through. She couldn't talk or listen back to anything Lisa had to say. But the message was still received.

Across a vast distance of a maze of underground metalwork, two girls held hands and worked in silence.

‐----‐----------------

A lonely fly climbed it's way up to comfort. Given a singular purpose, to seek out and-

Victoria smacked her shoulder and tried not to squeak as the gross bug smushed across her uniform. She was meant to be Deimos today, training battle-hardened mercenaries on how to fight brutes. It wouldn't do any good to show them how squeamish she got around insects.

She brushed her shoulders off without a second thought and got back to work.

--------------

With mundane work done for the day and plenty of time to spare, Lisa took advantage of the day and left to take her two favourite girls out for a late lunch.

The plan was to collect Taylor first and pick up Vicky on the way out but found she didn't need to make any detours.

Opening the door to Skitter's workshop, Lisa was greeted by the sight of Deimos, face down in Skitter's lap, bawling her eyes out in apology while Skitter brushed her hair.

Skitter looked up nonchalantly, nodding to Lisa in greeting. Lisa did the same before looking back down at the scene before her.

"Finished early?" Skitter asked, still running an idle hand through Deimos' hair.

"Yeah," Lisa smiled before pointing her thumb back to the door. "Thought I'd treat you both to dinner?"

Skitter nodded again. "I'm almost done," She motioned towards the bundles of spider silk. "Give me five minutes, then we'll drop this off on our way out."

"Cool," Lisa nodded, stepping in to help carry the supplies. She finally acknowledged Deimos, who was still sobbing in Skitter's lap. "She kill the fly again?"

Skitter didn't respond. She just continued to comfort Deimos' sobs with a gentle hand through her blonde hair.

"I'm sorry!" Deimos's cried out, muffled into Skitter's lap.

Skitter sighed and looked back up to Lisa.

"Make that, ten minutes."

 

[Gowonzu]

Stansfield Household – Bedroom

Brian awoke with his head pounding like a jackhammer.

He didn't want to open his eyes. The idea of the light hitting his sensitive retinas made him shudder, and so he just lay there, hoping the pain would pass and allow him to slip back into oblivion.

Hangovers were the worst.

The bed called to him. With each passing second, it felt more and more like a warm and inviting embrace. It didn't help that the sheets were a fine silk that was soft and comforting, or that the mattress seemed to have a perfect balance of firmness and comfort, perfectly contouring to the shape of his body. The pillows cradled his aching head like the caress of a loving hand. He felt like a king, if not for the hangover.

Another odd sense of warmth was also lulling him back to sleep. Something soft and pleasant was pressed up against his body. It almost felt like someone cuddling up against him. The sensation was nice, comforting even. A strong arm was draped across him, holding him tightly, protectively…

Brian's eyes shot wide open.

With a pained wince, he looked down, his suspicions were confirmed. He was being spooned and he was shirtless. Hesitantly, Brian shifted his head, looking to Dean who still snored away blissfully. Also shirtless…

"Ah, shit..." Brian breathed.

These things only ever happened in the movies. It had been a long time since Brian had been blackout drunk, he struggled to remember how he got here, in the bed, with Dean, and without any of their shirts.

The previous night was a blur. There were vague and hazy memories, but no real details. There was the party, arriving with Aisha and Alec. Meeting Dean around the pool. Wanting to know if he was Gallant. Learning he Gallant. That Dean was a Ward, his friends were Wards, he'd spent most of the party chilling with them and drinking, and then…

And then…

Brian shot up out of bed. Eye's wider.

"Rachel!"

Brian slapped his mouth shut and winced as his head pounded. Dean stirred and groaned, turning over in the bed and clutching a pillow tightly to his face.

"Shh," Dean whispered, his voice muffled by the pillow before stilling once more.

Once he was sure Dean had fallen back asleep, Brian quietly searched the room for his phone. He found it, along with a shirt and a pair of shoes, in a pile by the door. Grabbing them, Brian left the room as silently as possible.

"Shit…"

The phone was dead. He had no way of contracting the Undersiders. No way of finding out what happened yesterday. Lisa had told him to relax, but this was a new level.

He needed to charge his phone, call a cab, get back into the city and-

"Morning sunshine!"

A far too cheery voice startled Brian as he climbed down the stairs. It was Carlos, one of Dean's friends. A Ward.

"Oh, sorry," Carlos chuckled. "Didn't mean to scare ya," Brian stared back blankly. His brain was still working through the fog to shrug off his hangover. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Brian nodded. "Just didn't expect anyone to be up yet,"

"Someone's gotta make breakfast around here," Carlos smirked. "Are you a bacon and eggs guy? Pancakes maybe?"

"Uh... Sure?"

"Awesome," Carlos nodded. "Another plate coming up."

Brian stood in silence as the other boy rushed off to the kitchen. There were a small handful of people in the main room of the house, partygoers who ended up crashing like he did. Tired, hungover and prodding at their food, Brian sidestepped the group of lost souls and looked for evidence of what happened last night.

There were red and blue cups everywhere. All of the food had been eaten, but the empty bowls, chip packets, and wrappers remained. There was a strong smell of alcohol and a few stains on the carpet from where some of the drunker people had fallen.

It looked like the aftermath of every other party Brian had ever been to. With no sign that any sort of conflict had taken place.

"Order up!"

Carlos emerged from the kitchen with a plate full of bacon and eggs. He was smiling brightly, and Brian couldn't help but grumble at how not hungover the boy was.

Aegis. This boy had to be Aegis.

"Thanks," Brian mumbled as he accepted the plate. "So..." He added, figuring it was worth trying to fish for answers. "How was the party?"

Carlos chuckled at the question. "Well, It was certainly one of the more interesting ones. Didn't expect it to make the news though."

Brian choked on his bacon. "What?" He took several seconds to clear his throat. "The news!?"
"Oh, man. That's right," Carlos laughed even louder. "You and Dean missed out on all the fun. We had party crashers and everything."

"W-who?" Brian asked, trying to remain calm.

"Well first we had Brandish," Carlos listed off with his finger, Brian tried not to choke again. "Turned out Amy Dallon's girlfriend was one of those... Undersider villains," He said it like the word was foreign to him, overacting an ignorance of cape life. Brian was too busy trying not to panic to care.

"What happened to them!?" He demanded, before correcting his tone. "I mean, to Panacea and uh, Brandish. Did anyone get hurt?"

"Dennis might've crapped himself when Skitter showed up," Carlos chuckled, causing yet another close panic attack from Brian. "But aside from that, everyone was fine. Do not envy whoever is in charge of New Wave's PR right now though."

"So the Undersiders got away?" Brian asked, trying not to sound as hopeful as he felt.

"Yeah," Carlos shook his head and sighed. "Took Panacea with them too. Brandish just let her go, she's fine though. So I hear. Home safe and sound," Brian let out a small sigh of relief, even if he was still confused as all hell over what had happened. "You really missed out on all that, huh?" Carlos chuckled. "What did you guys even get up?-"

Carlos cut himself off as he looked down at Brian's chest.

"Ah, I see," He added with a knowing smirk that could rival Lisa's. Brian had no idea what he was talking about until he followed the other boys' gaze. He was wearing Dean's shirt. "None of my business then."

The boy wandered away before Dean could correct his assumption. Brian had too much to deal with, trying to make sense of what he'd just been told.

The Undersiders had showed up. Skitter had shown up. They'd taken Panacea, somehow. And Brandish just let them?

It made no sense. Brian needed to get back to base. He didn't have time to be stuck here with a dead phone and a hangover. He noted the odd taxi that pulled up out the front of the house and made his way to it.

"Taxi for a uh, Madison Clements?" The driver asked, giving Brian a suspicious look over.

Brian assumed that one of the people inside the house had called for a ride. However, he couldn't waste time charging his phone and waiting for Dean to wake up to say a polite goodbye. Instead, Brian looked back, checking to see if anyone was looking. When no one approached, Brian nodded.

"Yeah. That's me," He told the driver.

The driver gave him an odd look but shrugged. He was paid either way.

Brian climbed into the cab and collapsed in the seat, paying the driver to wake him when they reached downtown.

---------------------------------

Carlos watched a confused and tired girl look around for a taxi that Dean's friend had just climbed into. Shaking his head, he turned his attention to the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Gooood morning, Sunshine," Carlos chuckled, enjoying how his upbeat attitude pained his fellow hungover friends.

Carlos' abilities made him adapt to alcohol far quicker than a normal human. He'd never experienced a hangover, nor had he experienced being more than slightly buzzed for a couple of seconds. He'd have loved to get drunk with friends, just once, but sadly, that wasn't in the cards for him. So he settled for tormenting them while making breakfast.

"Pancakes?" Carlos offered, pointing back towards the kitchen.

Dean shook his head, then held it still, obviously in pain. "Later..." Carlos tried to sympathise with his fellow Ward. "Everyone made it home alright?"

"Got a few stragglers," Carlos gestured back to the small group that was still munching away at the plates he'd given them. "I'm trying to shuffle them out now. And Dennis took Missy home before midnight."

"Good..." Dean nodded. "Um, did you see Brian come through here?"

"Brian," Carlos clicked his finger. He forgot the boy's name when he came down the stairs. "You just missed him."

"I see..." Dean mumbled. He looked puzzled. Carlos chalked it up to disappointment. "Did he... say anything?"

At that, Carlos' eyebrow rose, noting that Dean was also wearing Brian's shirt. Another small smirk formed on his lips.

"Not really," Carlos answered, not wanting to kill whatever was forming here. Dean needed a win after Victoria. "Though he didn't look so good. I'm sure he'll call once he's feeling better." Carlos patted Dean on the shoulder.

Dean either ignored or missed the gesture.

"And what about the whole Hellhound thing?"

Carlos let out a snort.

"Handled," He confirmed, watching the tension leave Dean's body. Which immediately returned once Carlos explained what went down.

"Skitter!?" Dean choked out, looking out towards his front yard. "Here?"

"The whole team," Carlos nodded, trying to calm the boy down. "But like I said, it's been handled. Though I am not looking forward to giving Armsmaster my report today," Carlos admitted a small shudder running through him. "I expect we'll have a long meeting about civilian engagement protocols and the like. Good thing we don't all have a thumping headache."

"Fuck you..." Dean groaned. "I'll take those pancakes now…"

Carlos grinned and led his fellow Ward into the kitchen. All the while Dean held a look on his face, like he was trying to solve a puzzle. It didn't look like the usual pained hungover face, but Carlos figured he'd ask if the problem persisted.

"Something else on your mind?" Carlos offered.

"Hellhound..." He said, shaking his head with a sigh.

"I know right?" Carlos chuckled. "Everyone comes to Stansfield party..." Dean still looked confused by something. "What about her?"

Dean gave a thoughtful hum before opening his mouth. "It's probably nothing..."

"What's nothing?" Carlos asked as he handed him a plate of food and a glass of water.

Dean chewed on his food absentmindedly before answering.

"What was her name again?"

The question caught Carlos off guard. They didn't usually talk shop on who villains' identities were, but then again, villains didn't crash their parties in civilian clothes. Carlos thought quietly to himself, bringing up the Hellhound's file in his mind before answering.

"I believe her civilian name is..." Carlos paused, thinking hard. "Rachel? I'd have to double-check. Or just ask Amy?" He added with a chuckle.

Dean hummed again, seemingly lost in his own thoughts as he parroted Carlos' response.

"Rachel."

----------------------------------------------

Lisa's Apartment – Bedroom

Lisa awoke with her head pounding like a jackhammer.

She didn't want to open her eyes. The idea of the light hitting her sensitive retinas made her shudder, and so she just lay there, hoping the pain would pass and allow her to slip back into oblivion.

Thinker headaches were the worst.

Lisa had done it to herself. The party had been a disaster, sure. But she hadn't worked herself too hard during the little fiasco.

The bulk of her pain came from what happened after. Dropping Vicky, Amy and Rachel off at the shelter did not fill her with confidence that Brandish wouldn't simply turn around and come after them. Not to mention what the PRT would do to them if they believed Panacea was coerced against her will.

Safeguards needed to be put into place. Standby teams that could extract Rachel if something like this happened again, media blackouts and counter campaigns should Brandish try to smear the Undersiders. Plans to rescue Vicky and Amy in the event they were kept from ever leaving the Dallon's house again. Alibis for where everyone went just before the Undersiders showed up. Updating the threat analysis on everyone present, just in case the news spurred any of them into action.

All of it was necessary, but it was also a lot.

Lisa would've kept working through the night and then some, if not for a certain someone stopping her.

"Morning, Sunshine…"

Taylor's deadpan sarcasm made Lisa smile. Even as her body felt like it wanted to curl up and die. A soft kiss on her cheek helped with that.

"How's the head?" Taylor asked, her voice laced with sympathy.

Lisa groaned, holding her hand to her temple. "Like a herd of elephants doing the polka."
"That's..." Taylor paused. "Pretty bad," She agreed, her fingers gently moving a loose lock of hair from Lisa's face. "Do you need me to get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Breakfast?"

Lisa hummed as she contemplated.

"Pass me my laptop-"

"No," Taylor cut her off. Snuggling into a tighter cuddle.

"I have work to do," Lisa protested. A protest that died under a smothering of affection.

"You don't," Taylor told her, pressing a small kiss on her forehead. "I've already handled most of the loose ends."

"What about?-"

"Done."

"And did you tell?-"

"Called before I went to bed."

"Okay, but I just had this idea-"

"I already put two squads on Rachel, she's fine."

"You're a saint..." Lisa sighed, sinking further into Taylor's embrace.

"I doubt it," Taylor snorted, her arms wrapped around Lisa tightly. "Just know better than to leave you alone when you're like this."

Lisa hummed happily at that. The two of them cuddled, lying in silence for a few moments, allowing the fog in her brain to clear.

"Is Vicky okay?" She finally asked, once her mind had begun to function properly.

"I think so," Taylor answered. "No S.O.S at least. I sent her a message about meeting for lunch. She hasn't replied yet."

"I'll chase that up..." Lisa mumbled, already feeling Taylor's grip hold her down. "Later," She promised. "After breakfast."

Taylor gave her another kiss, on the neck this time, before slipping out of the bed. Lisa pouted as she felt the warmth disappear.

"I'll make us some tea," Taylor told her, already putting her glasses back on. She opened the bedside drawer and handed Lisa a painkiller. "Here. This'll help."

"A saint..." Lisa said again, making Taylor roll her eyes.

Lisa swallowed it dry and continued to lay there, waiting for the medication to take effect. All the while, she could hear Taylor working in her kitchen, boiling the kettle and putting together a tray. Lisa never put much thought into her apartment, it was a cover, a place she could rest, a home away from the lair. It used to be her place of escape from her shitty life.

With Taylor, however, the small studio apartment almost felt like a real home. An odd sense of domestic bliss washed over her as her thoughts changed from work, to how she'd need a bigger bed to fit Vicky as well.

"Alright," Taylor said, entering the room once more. Lisa looked up to find her carrying a tray. On it were a couple of mugs, two plates of scrambled eggs and toast, and a freshly brewed pot of tea. "Sit up. You need to eat."

Lisa watched as she was treated to breakfast in bed. There was only one tray, so Taylor climbed back into bed beside her and ate off Lisa's tray. Taylor smiled at her, not in any particular way. Just a small, gentle smile that made Lisa's heart melt.

Lisa sighed, smiling back at Taylor. The girl wasn't even aware of how sweet she was being, to Taylor, treating her headache-afflicted girlfriend to breakfast was simply a matter of fact.

"You know," Lisa mumbled, leaning her head on Taylor's shoulder. "I don't say it enough…"

"Hmm?" Taylor hummed, already cuddled up under the covers with a book in her hand while she ate.

"I love you."

Lisa could see the blush rising on Taylor's cheeks, even as she remained stoic and kept reading her book.

"I love you too," She mumbled, pressing a kiss onto the top of Lisa's head.

The pair continued to eat and drink their tea in relative silence, giving Lisa's headache a chance to calm down. Soon their chaotic lives would call them away once more, but for now, it was nice to relax.

------------------------------------

The Palanquin – Bedroom

Emily awoke with her head pounding like a jackhammer.

She didn't want to open her eyes. The idea of the light hitting her sensitive retinas made her shudder, and so she just lay there, hoping the pain would pass and allow her to slip back into oblivion.

Hangovers were the worst.

She could barely remember what happened. There was the party, and then she had a conversation with a boy and then…

Emily couldn't remember how she got home. It was a blur. But she did have the vague memory of someone yelling at her. No, not yelling. Just sounding grumpy, or disappointed, like her mother. But not her mother…

"Morning, Sunshine..."

Melanie stood at the door. Already dressed in her Faultline gear, sans mask. Emily groaned, her head pounding in protest as she tried not to move.

"Time to get up," Melanie told her. Her voice wasn't loud, but it still felt like nails on a chalkboard to Emily's ears. "We've got recon work to do. Need you dressed and downstairs."

"In a minute..." Emily grumbled, trying to roll over.

She had a feeling Melanie was giving her a pointed look. One she couldn't see because she was refusing to open her eyes.

"Don't be such a lightweight," Melanie chided her.

"I feel like death," Emily groaned.

She felt her bed sheet yanked off her. The rush of cool air made her wince and curl up tighter.

"Then you should've drank less," Melanie told her, not even trying to sound sympathetic. "Or better yet. Not gone to a Stansfield party," Emily grumbled at that. "I heard the Undersiders showed up. Did anyone recognise you?"

"The what?" Emily answered, still in a daze. "Oh fuck, yeah," The memory of the final moments of the party returned to her. "Fucking... fucking Bitch was just walking through the living room like she owned the place," She grumbled, the words coming out in a slur. "I left pretty quickly after that."

"Emily..." Melanie growled. "Emily, you're drooling on the bed."

"Huh?" Emily sat up, inspecting her pillow. Several small patches of singed fabric were left behind. "God dammit..." She grumbled, rubbing her eyes. "I'm gonna have to buy a new one now."

"And this is why you can't drink," Melanie added with a sigh. "You're lucky you didn't set fire to the whole damn bed."

"I have control," Emily protested, her voice a mumble.

"You better," Melanie warned. "You think the pillow is bad, imagine what would've happened if you'd done that to a person. I know what happens at those parties. The last thing we need is you hospitalising a kid because you couldn't keep your spit to yourself."

"I wouldn't..." Emily groaned before another flash of memory entered her mind. "Fuck!"

She bolted up and lunged for her phone. Searching every news site she could think of for any story about a boy being hospitalised with severe burns. Emily had drunkenly slobbered all over someone at that party, and in the state she was in, she didn't think it was a stretch that her powers might have acted up.

"Nothing?…"

There was nothing. No news story, no bizarre hospitalisations. No building burnt to the ground. Just several headlines about Panacea's attempt at taming Hellhound? That was strange.

"Get dressed, ten minutes," Melanie repeated, unaware of Emily's mild panic attack. "Breakfast is waiting for you."

Emily was left with vague memories, a bunch of questions and a terrible hangover. The most important question right now was a name.

Who the hell was George?

 

[Gowonzu]

Dallon Household – Morning

Coffee.

Carol needed coffee. The past twelve hours had been a long, stressful and confusing ordeal. Suffice to say, she was exhausted. She placed two mugs down on the counter, sliding one forward towards the small, mousy girl who sat across from her.

Amelia hesitantly reached for the mug, taking a small sip. Carol did the same, feeling the warmth spread through her body. Both women let out their own sighs of satisfaction, the hot liquid working its magic.

"So..." Carol said, breaking the silence. She noted how Amelia flinched at her voice, a small pang of guilt formed in her heart at the sight. "...Hellhound. Tell me about her."

"Bitch."

Carol's first instinct was to scold the young girl. She never allowed such talk in her house, especially directed at her. But cooler heads remained. Amelia's relationship with her might've been...deteriorated at the moment, but she wouldn't call her that. She hoped, at least.

"H-her name, I mean," Amelia corrected herself quickly. "She prefers to be called Bitch, Ma'am."

Fear washed over her again as Carol frowned. The girl shrank into her seat and again, a pang of guilt hit her.

"Please," Carol said, her tone softer than before. "No need to be so formal, Amelia."

"Sorry."

Carol mulled over her coffee. A hundred prior conversations with her daughter being recontextualised in this moment. All the small moments that she had taken as a sign of respect, the odd little mannerisms that had always seemed to rub her the wrong way, all of them now seemed so different.

She'd been a mother for almost two decades and only now was she realising how much her own daughter feared her.

"Just, start from the beginning," Carol said, hoping that by focusing on the problem at hand, she could ignore the feelings that were rising inside her. "How did she approach you? Was it back during the bank?"

Amelia shook her head. "No. Well, technically yes? But I didn't actually meet her that day," She began to explain. "I met her at the mall, I didn't know she was Hellhound when I first met her, she was just Taylor's..." The girl trailed off as Carol's eyebrow rose ever higher. Amelia's eyes went wide for half a second. "...She was just asking Taylor for directions." Amelia corrected, a little too quickly.

Carol was about to probe further when the girl continued on her own.

"Um, anyway," Amelia said, avoiding eye contact with Carol. "We didn't interact much at all, think we got into a small argument or something? Just a random girl I wasn't going to see again... Until I did. At the park. And uh, she kinda recruited me. To work at her shelter. Helping dogs, not with crime stuff. Again, I uh, didn't... didn't know about all that, yet."

Yet. Carol took a long sip of her coffee. She wanted to be upset, wanted to yell, but the events of the last day had taught her better. She needed to give Amelia a safe space to talk, and shouting wasn't going to help.

"Okay, okay," Carol said, taking a deep breath. "I can understand that. You thought you were doing good, no reason to suspect ulterior motives. But you did know who she was at the time of the party, correct? So, when did you learn the truth?"

"A little over a week ago..." Amelia confessed, shrinking again in her chair. "Right after we started dating…"

"Ah, I see," Carol sighed. Teenage hormones were a real pain in the ass sometimes. She remembered all the crazy decisions she had made when she was young, like starting a family and having Victoria. Not that she regretted that decision, she loved her daughters. But in hindsight, she should've waited a few more years before becoming a mother. "And why didn't you come to us when you found out the truth? Or even before that, when this relationship started?"

"That's, uh, complicated..." Amelia sighed, taking a sip and looking away. "...I really liked... like her. And I really like working at the shelter. It was my own thing, away from all this. I wanted it to be, y'know, mine."

Carol sighed again. Thinking of how deep a wedge she had driven between her and Amelia, that the girl felt the need to keep her life a secret from her family.

"And when did you find out?" Carol asked, still ignoring the feeling inside her. "I'm assuming she told you her secret in confidence?"

Amelia looked away again, biting her lip. "Uh, well. Looking back, she kinda didn't try to hide it at all. I just didn't pick up on the signs until…"

"Until?"

"...Until some gang shot up the shelter." Amelia finally admitted.

Carol choked on her coffee, spilling it onto her table. She coughed and hacked for several seconds, wiping the excess fluid from her chin. She stared incredulously at her daughter, a million questions running through her mind.

Amelia jumped up in a panic and moved around the table, grabbing and napkin and quickly offering it to Carol.

"Oh, shit. Um, do you need healing?" She offered a hand while Carol wiped away at her shirt.

Carol reached out and took her daughter's hand, not calming in the slightest as the mild coffee burn faded away. Wild eyes held on to Amelia, demanding an explanation.

"Shot up the shelter!?" Carol finally choked out. "Amy! Why didn't you tell us? When did this happen? Did you get hurt? Did-"

Her blind panic was just making the girl shrink into herself even further. Amelia's hands fidgeted as she spoke, her words tumbling out in a panic. "It's fine, I'm fine! Nothing happened, well the stuff happened obviously. I was almost hit by a truck and crawled under gunfire. But I didn't get hurt. Rachel took care of everyone, and Angelica protected me."

Carol still had a look of disbelief stamped across her face. "Amelia…"

"Her dog's name is Angelica," Amelia explained in a rush. "Well, one of her dogs. She's a terrier. Angelica, not Rachel. Although Rachel has a lot of dog-like qualities herself. But Angelica is a good girl. She listened to me and kept me safe as I crawled to Rachel. She got hurt. Got shot, actually. I had to crawl to her. Under gunfire. Like I said. She was hurt pretty bad. I almost didn't... but I did. And I healed her and-"

"Amy!" Carol's raised voice broke the girl's ramblings. Amelia shrunk back and shut up, moving to release her hand. Carol kept her grip on her daughter's hand, leaning forward to wipe a tear from the girl's eye. "Amelia," Carol said, softer this time. "Calm down. Take a breath."

The girl was close to hyperventilating. Carol's words were barely heard, but she did as instructed and took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling. The signs of trauma were obvious, she was shaking like a leaf. Carol pulled her daughter in, hugging her tight and rubbing circles into her back.

Hesitantly, Amelia returned the embrace. Carol tried to remember the last time the girl had willingly hugged her. The last time she had willingly hugged Amelia. Odd memories of mild back pats and the like were all she could recall.

Obviously, Amelia's connection to Hellhound ran deeper than teenage hormones. The last time her daughter had reacted so strongly was the day they almost lost Victoria. The day Amelia triggered. And if the past was any indication, she wasn't about to let Hellhound go easily.

"So, I take it she means a lot to you then?" Carol asked softly.

Amelia nodded, holding her mother a little tighter.

"And you're afraid of what I'm going to say or do about this?"

Another nod.

Carol thought about how she was going to respond. Ideally, separating Amelia from Hellhound would be the easiest solution. New Wave couldn't associate with criminals, that was just a fact. And Carol held little love for the rest of the Undersiders, especially Skitter and her Marquis-like qualities that made her skin crawl.

The PRT sure as hell wouldn't stand for Panacea dating a villain. Piggot was most likely hard at work planning to throw every book she could at the girl. It was no secret how badly they wanted Amelia in the Wards where she could be kept under their control. Logically, the optimal move would be to distance her daughter from Hellhound as quickly and cleanly as possible.

"What the hell is going on around here!?"

Both Carol and Amelia turned towards the new voice. Carol's sister stood in the entrance hallway, dressed in her Lady Photon uniform. She marched into the kitchen like she owned the place, glaring at both of them.

"Do you have any idea the utter shitstorm I've been dealing with today!?" Sarah snapped, stopping only a few feet away from the pair. "I was in the middle of an interview with Channel Seven's morning show when they blindsided me with a question about my niece supposedly joining the Undersiders. Imagine my surprise when they had a video of Amy climbing into a van with them, while my own sister just stood there, not lifting a finger."

"We have a doorbell," Carol responded dryly, releasing from her hug. "You could have used it."
Sarah gave her an annoyed look.

"I also have a key, for emergencies," Sarah pointed out, holding it in her hand. "And I think this constitutes an emergency. Now, what the hell is going on?"

"We're having coffee," Carol answered, a little annoyed herself. "And Amelia and I are trying to have a conversation."

"Oh, a conversation?" Sarah crossed her arms, her glare shifting to Amelia. "Does this conversation involve explaining why I have reporters demanding answers about your sudden departure with a group of notorious teenage criminals?"

Carol felt the girl tense at her side. She placed a hand on her shoulder, stepping between Amelia and her sister.

"It's being handled," Carol explained, trying to maintain her calm.

"Handled?" Sarah snapped, "Here's how we're going to handle it," She looked past Carol and scowled at Amelia again. "You, are going to give them a statement, explaining exactly what happened. Tell them you were kidnapped, or drugged. Or Both. Whatever. Just so long as you condemn the Undersiders, and promise to never associate with them again."

Carol was taken aback, turning and staring at her sister in disbelief.

"Sarah!" Carol said, anger creeping into her voice. "If you have a problem, then direct it to me. Don't talk to Amelia like that."

Sarah moved to argue back before taking a second look at the scene in front of her. Carol had positioned herself defensively in front of Amelia as the girl took a hesitant step to hide behind her mother. Sarah's glare shifted back to Carol and softened. At the same time, Amelia spoke up, her voice meek.

"S-sorry. This is my fault. I'll fix it... somehow."

Frustration gave way for remorse, as Sarah let out a sigh, closing her eyes and rubbing the bridge of her nose. She didn't come here to yell at her sister and niece, not really. Her anger was simply concealing a deeper worry for her family.

"No. I'm sorry," Sarah said, shaking her head. Carol relaxed a little, allowing Amelia to step out from her again. "I'm tired and I'm stressed, and I just spent the last two hours on damage control," Sarah offered an apologetic hug to Amelia, who accepted wearily, relaxing as the tension in the room lifted. "So, what's the plan? How are we going to fix this mess?"

"We need to quell any rumours of Panacea joining the Undersiders," Carol answered, her mind already going through potential plans. "We can't have the media spinning a story of Amy being a villain or anything of the sort. Amelia, you don't have to make a statement, but perhaps a visit to Brockton General will put the public at ease?"

Amelia nodded, pulling back from her Aunt's embrace. "Yeah, yeah. I can do that."

"Alright. And what do we say about Amy and Hellhound's relationship?" Sarah asked, voicing her distaste for the villain. Amelia shot her an offended look but quickly turned away. "We can't have Panacea dating a criminal, that is simply not acceptable. How are we going to spin this?"

Carol had made up her mind on this. She'd made up her mind the second Amelia collapsed into her arms. Watching her sister chastise her only just now reaffirmed her choice.

"There is no spin," Carol answered. "Amy won't be dating a criminal. Not for long."

At that, Amelia spoke up. "W-what!? No. Mom. I'm not... Please. I like her."

Carol held up a calming hand. "I didn't say you couldn't date her, Amelia. I just said she won't be a criminal."

Both Sarah and Amelia stared at her in baffled confusion, unsure of what she was saying. Carol didn't blame them, her plan was still half-baked, but it was a plan nonetheless.

"We need to make some calls," Carol stated, heading over to the phone. "Sarah, can you bring me any files we have on Hellhound, particularly anything from her early days? And Amelia, would you be able to contact Hellh- Rachel, and set up a meeting? Maybe invite her over for dinner?"

"You can't be serious?" Sarah asked back, but Carol simply pointed towards her office, ushering her off to collect what she asked for. Sarah sighed and walked off.

"Um... I can try?" Amelia replied hesitantly, watching her Aunt get to work. "I don't think she'd be interested in having a meeting with Brandish though, especially after last night."

Carol smiled back at her daughter, trying to project as much support and confidence as she could muster. She already had her phone out, dialling a number from memory.

"It's Carol, clear my schedule for the rest of the week. There's been a change of plans," She said into the phone, clicking her fingers at Sarah, who was already pulling out folders of New Wave cape intel. After a few moments, Sarah pulled out a manila folder labelled Undersiders. "I don't care, pass it on to Alan. We have a new client. Name is..." Sarah offered her the file, and she scanned it quickly. "...Rachel Lindt."

---------------------------------------------

PRT Wards Meeting Room – Midday

A steady stream of hungover children shuffled into seats around the room, dressed in their cape attire. Most looked as though they had barely slept a wink the night before.

Miss Militia shook her head at the scene before her. Some looked refreshed and awake, Kid Win, Aegis and Vista. While others looked like they would fall over the moment the meeting was done. Clockblocker's head was buried in his arms. Gallant sat slumped in his seat, looking a little pale. And Browbeat…

If Militia didn't know any better, she'd thought Browbeat was dead.

"Okay, we're all here," Director Piggot stated the moment the last Ward stepped inside the room. "I know a lot of you are feeling... unwell," Clockblocker let out a low groan as he slid deeper into his chair. "So I'll try to get through this quickly."

Piggot took a step forward and looked about the room. Not only had the Wards been called in to debrief from the prior evening's events, but the Protectorate heroes had joined in. Assault and Battery stood off to the side, chatting quietly, while Militia and Armsmaster stood on either side of the Director.

"I imagine most of you by now are aware of the situation at Mr Stansfield's house, I've already debriefed Aegis, Gallant and Clockblocker on the situation unless anyone else would like to add anything relevant?" She paused for a moment, before continuing. "Right. Make no mistake, I'm not happy about what happened last night. It's bad enough that the bulk of our Wards engaged in illicit activities, don't think I'm not aware of your involvement Ms Biron. If I find out that anyone here gave a twelve-year-old a drop of alcohol, I swear to god…"

Gallant shifted under Piggot's scowl, the older woman leaning forward to project her disapproval of the situation. The rest of the Wards looked away from the poor boy.

Piggot stood up straight again and cleared her throat. "And of course, there's the matter of one of our own, engaging in relations with a known criminal."

Suddenly, Browbeat jolted in his seat. All eyes turned to him as he stood up, swaying slightly, his arms trembling.

"I-I'm s-sorry ma'am," The Ward choked out. "One thing led to another, and-"

"Browbeat, sit down!" Piggot barked. "This is not a round-table discussion, when I want your input, I'll ask for it. Interrupt me again, and you'll be on console duty for the next six months."

"I, yes ma'am." He stumbled over himself, sitting down again.

"As I was saying," Piggot continued, rolling her eyes. "Panacea's relation with the Undersiders has come as a surprise to all of us." Browbeat squeaked out another sound, this time sounding more confused than anything. Piggot chose to ignore it. "We've reached out to New Wave, and have yet to receive a response, but I expect a meeting soon. In the meantime, the PRT will not be working with New Wave until further notice. Do I make myself clear?"

Gallant raised his hand, waiting for Piggot to acknowledge him.

"No," She sighed, already predicting the question the boy had. "We are not pursuing legal action against New Wave at this time, but until they agree to comply with the rules and regulations that they signed off on, we will not be working alongside them. The PRT will not be swept up in New Wave's public relations disaster. If you see New Wave on patrol in the coming days, you are not to engage with them unless absolutely necessary. Am I understood?"

"Yes Ma'am," Came a chorus of responses.

With a nod to Armsmaster, a projection screen turned on behind her. It was a still-frame image of last night's debacle. Showing Amy Dallon climbing into an unmarked black van with the rest of the Undersiders. The footage looked to be captured on one of the partygoer's cellphones.

"With that out of the way, we can focus on the issue at hand," Piggot continued. "The Undersiders," She let the video play, showing a van driving up, opening the side door as Hellhound, her dogs and Amy all climbed inside. She left the video to play on repeat. "While New Wave has been quiet on the matter, they have stated that Panacea has not joined the Undersiders. Assuming we can still trust them. So, ignoring the implications of Panacea's sudden departure with the group, what do you see here?"

The question was posed to the Wards, however it took everyone a few moments to realise she wasn't being rhetorical.

"Um?" Clockblocker spoke first. "They drive a shitty van?"

"It's a Ford E-Series," Armsmaster stated, drawing everyone's attention. "A popular model in the 80's and 90's, likely purchased second hand or from a junkyard. The vehicle has undergone a series of modifications since the time of purchase, as well as several cosmetic alterations. That particular van has been spotted several times during Undersider activities, including the recent bank robbery. It's a safe assumption that it's their primary mode of transportation. When not overtly using Hellhound's dogs."

"Wait," Aegis said, leaning forward in his chair. "Hold the phone? Who's that opening the door for them?"

Piggot paused the video just as the van door opened, giving a clear image of an unknown cape in a pale grey demon mask.

"Oh fu... udge," Vista said, shrinking under Piggot's scowl. "Who is that?"

"Unclear," Miss Militia said, stepping forward. "We've run it through every database we have, and can't find a match."

"So, an unknown player," Gallant commented. "Are they a new addition to the Undersiders?"

"We assume so," Piggot interjected. "For all we know, the Undersiders are recruiting capes on a mass scale. Reports of Tattletale reaching out to potential new members have surfaced. You may remember the bombing incident with the cape named Bakuda? It appears she was in Brockton after an invitation from the Thinker. Not to mention the influx of mercenary soldiers moving into the city, bolstering Coil's old forces."

"We'd hoped that Coil's arrest would end his influence in the city," Militia continued. "However, that's not the case. It's obvious by now that the Undersiders have taken over Coil's place, raising them from minor nuisance to major players."

"Which explains why the Protectorate are all here," Kid Win sighed, leaning back into his chair. "I guess that means the Undersiders are too much for us now."

"Correct," Piggot confirmed. "Individual threat levels and rankings will be adjusted from this moment forward, considered them equally, or if not more dangerous than the Empire at this point. As such, they'll be given the same treatment."

"That's not to say the Undersiders are as threatening as a group of literal Nazis, right?," Assault piped in. "I think we can all agree they're the lesser of two evils?"

"They're still criminals," Armsmaster responded. "And will be treated as such, no exceptions."

"Lesser or not," Piggot growled, bringing the focus back to her. "The Undersiders are not to be underestimated, especially with their motives so blatantly clear. They've already provoked the Empire once. I will not have Brockton Bay turn into a warzone run by fucking teenagers. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Good. Now, what else do we notice here?" She played the video on repeat again.

"Hellhound's dogs are controlled through verbal commands?" Vista offered.

"We already knew that from the bank," Aegis countered.

"Um," Kid Win said, raising a finger. "Deimos looks taller?"

Everyone turned to look at the boy. Piggot paused the video, giving the Ward a chance to explain himself.

"W-well, we don't know too much about him, beyond excessive strength and a similar costume to Skitter," The boy shrugged. "But, um, it's hard to tell at this angle, but doesn't the mask look a little small on him?" He leaned forward and pointed at the image of Deimos driving the van with Tattletale sitting in shotgun. "Our estimates have Deimos at around 5.4, like Tattletale. Maybe smaller. But here, it looks like Deimos is almost a full six foot when compared to Tattletale. So?…"

"Not Deimos?" Armsmaster asked, sounding interested. "Possibly they couldn't get him in time, using a merc to fill their ranks?"

"Maybe?" Piggot said, not sounding convinced.

"Could it be Grue?" Gallant asked out. He almost sounded hopeful in his tone. "Filling in for their missing brute?"

"That doesn't make sense," Battery cut in, speaking for the first time. "I get why they would want a stand-in to bluff their brute, but Grue is their de facto team leader. Why wouldn't he be leading the operation?"

Gallant dropped slightly in his seat, clearly disappointed.

"Maybe Skitter finally took over," Clockblocker offered. "She does seem to enjoy making dramatic entrances. At least before Brandish tried beheading her."

"Why are we even talking about who the driver is?" Vista spoke up, drawing attention. "Can't we just arrest Hellhound and interrogate her?"

"It's not that simple," Assault chuckled. "Even assuming we can find and detain her, I don't think Hellhound is the type to talk, or even be given in-depth information about the Undersider's operations."

"Not that it isn't an avenue we're pursuing," Militia said. "But Assault is correct. Arresting Hellhound now will only spur the other Undersiders into action, and we'd get very little in return. Unless she's presenting as a valid threat, then we leave her be. Especially with New Wave's current situation."

"Grue, Skitter or Tattletale on the other hand," Piggot said, drawing everyone's attention. "If one of those three is brought in, then we can start to peel back the layers of the Undersider's organisation. Start building up charges against them. Those three are the priority. Any information that can lead to their arrest is to be taken seriously. Including their identities."

Browbeat, who had been unusually quiet since the video started playing, shot his head up and looked at Piggot.

"Wait, I thought we don't touch civilian identities?" He asked, raising his hand this time. "Isn't that part of the secret cape rules or something?"

Piggot's brow rose, and the Ward shrunk under her glare.

"While the parahuman community at large may consider it a taboo," Piggot began explaining. "They are not an actual rule. And I'll be damned if I let criminals take advantage of that loophole. If we knew who Kaiser was under his helmet, you'd be damn sure I'd have him arrested within the hour, and the Undersiders leaders are no different," She paused to let the severity of her words sink in. "Besides, the public doesn't need to be informed about who they are. They can keep their damn masks on. However, that does not protect them from the law, or from me."

"Okay, so," Clockblocker started, rubbing the side of his head. "You don't want us engaging with the Undersiders anymore, but you want us to gather intel on them? How exactly do we do that, without engaging them?"

"We know they're teenagers," Piggot answered. "It's likely that their day-to-day lives are similar to yours. The Undersiders aren't an active-duty 24/7 unit. They sleep, eat, and do whatever the hell teenagers do. Use that against them. You all know the struggle of keeping a secret identity from your peers, I'm sure a bunch of kids will have the same struggles. Keep an ear to the ground, listen and report anything of interest. They could slip up at any time, and we're going to capitalise on that."

"Suuure?" Aegis answered. "That makes sense, but there's a bazillion teenagers in Brockton Bay? How are we even going to start narrowing it down? You're asking us to find a needle in a haystack, that's also wearing a mask made out of hay."

"Amy might know them?" Vista said, looking a little unsure of herself. "She's in a relationship with Hellhound right? So Hellhound has to hang out with her friends, right?"

"Are the Undersiders even friends though?" Clockblocker chuckled back. "Like, could you imagine being friends with Hellhound on your days off? Or even Skitter? What do you think, Dean?"

Gallant was deep in thought, staring intently at the projection screen as if the answers were hiding somewhere in the frozen frame. He shook out of his thoughts and looked around.

"What?"

"Do you think the Undersiders are friends?"

He thought about it for a moment and shrugged.

"Honestly, I have no clue," He answered, somewhat dismissively. "Just because Hellhound wound up in our lives doesn't mean the others will. Like Carlos said, needle in a haystack. There's got to be what? Twenty thousand teens in the city? That's a long list."

Armsmaster stepped forward, and the Wards all shifted their attention to him.

"Actually, I may be able to shorten that list," He stated, turning his attention back to the video and letting it play frame by frame. "If you look here, you see Skitter's swarm imitating her shape. The real Skitter is standing just off-screen. She doesn't show up on video until right... here," He paused at a still frame. Skitter climbed into the back of the van. He turned back to the Wards, pointing a hand to the screen. "See anything different about her appearance?"

"You mean, besides not being made out of a million bugs?" Assault laughed, earning an eye roll from everyone.

"I don't see it," Vista commented.

"Neither do I," Aegis added.

"Yeah, what are we looking at exactly?" Militia asked.

"Her hair," Armsmaster said, waiting for anyone to figure it out. "It's hard to see with the video quality. But you see here-"

"It's wet..." Clockblocker said, eyes going wide.

Suddenly everyone realised the implication of Armsmasters observation. Armsmaster himself smiled at his deduction and looked back to the Wards, namely Gallant and Clockblocker.

"How many people were at that party of yours? One hundred? Maybe less?" He asked. The boys looked between themselves. "How many of them actually went swimming?"

Piggot nodded in agreement, dismissing the Protectorate and handing out new assignments for everybody.

"I'd say you have your list."

 

[Gowonzu]

A/N: Hey there, hope everyone had a good xmas/new years. I'm currently sick with a cold, but here's a lil side-story fluff for the hell of it.

---

Lisa sat up in her chair as a sudden realisation hit her. A smile began to creep across her lips.

"I am such an idiot," Lisa said to herself, a smile spreading further.

"Admitting it is the first step," Victoria said from across the room, cuddled up in Taylor's lap as they both watched the TV.

Lisa ignored the comment, standing from her desk and going to join her girlfriends on the couch. She dropped into the space still free on the couch, turning to look at the girls.

Taylor turned her head slightly and gave her a bemused look. "What's got you so cheerful all of a sudden?"

Lisa grinned up at her. "I just realised something. It might seem obvious but I'm new at all this stuff, so don't tease me?"

"Tease you?" Taylor asked, confused.

"No promises," Vicky added at the same time, a wry smile on her lips.

Lisa ignored the snarky blonde, leaning in closer to the pair.

"I have girlfriends!" Lisa declared as if this was entirely new information.

Taylor and Victoria stared back at her blankly, obviously confused.

"Yes..." Taylor eventually said. "That's been a fact for a while."

Victoria stifled a chuckle, looking away.

Lisa blushed but continued on. "No, I know. It's just..." She gestured at the girls, smile still wide on her face.

The two shared a bemused look.

"Alright," Taylor said slowly.

"You ok, babe?" Vicky asked.

"Yup! Never better!" Lisa responded cheerfully.

The blonde raised an eyebrow at her, and Lisa rolled her eyes.

"I think I get it," Taylor offered.

"You do?" Victoria asked, still out of the loop.

"Yeah," Taylor nodded, smiling back. "The other month, I remember getting hit with this sudden realisation. Watching you and Lisa bicker with one another. And I just thought, wow. These are my girlfriends. I could walk up to each of them and ask for a kiss. And they'd say yes. They'd be happy about it. They'd give me a kiss, and I'd give them one back."

Taylor's voice got a little softer, a little more intimate as she spoke, until her eyes met Victoria's.

"Yes! That's it exactly!" Lisa cheered. "It took me a while to get used to the idea, but now I've realised. You two are my girlfriends, and that's fucking fantastic!"

Lisa leaned over and kissed each girl enthusiastically before dropping into the cuddle pile. Taylor returned the sentiment by doing much the same. Victoria, meanwhile, chuckled to herself as she received kisses from the other two. Under the weight of the two girls, the blonde let out a squeak.

"Oh shit..." Victoria thought aloud. She felt a strange, tingly sensation in her chest as the realisation hit her. "I have girlfriends."