Recoil (a Worm fanfic)

[Ack]

This omake was written by atomicpanda, over on SB. I'm crossposting it, because I canonised it, and why not.

Some point between '98 and 2000. Evening
Brockton Bay
Brockton Legal Seafood

Mr. Lavere (loving single father, entrepreneur, and supervillain Marquis) exited his ride, passing off his keys to the valet and being escorted up to a reserved private room. A recent financial investment firm had been making waves in the Bay over the last few years but had rebuffed outside influence. It should be expected, they had their own skyscraper built long before business started. The appointment scheduled by his secretary was nearly a total shock to him. A few key words hinted at them being aware of his other identity and seeking to make arrangements with Marquis too. What unnerved him though was the additional request to have his dear Amelia somewhere nearby, preferably under ten minutes away. An odd request but not one intended for a hostage.

The restaurant, a regional chain known for its quality was packed as he surveyed it with a passing eye. A few couple seemed vaguely familiar but he couldn't put names to faces for the moment, chalking it up to past meet and greets. The hostess ahead of him pulled open the door to the private room, reserved for small parties and meetings to reveal two faces he hoped to never see again in his life. He pulled on all his experience to ignore the phantom throb in his knees.

"Welcome!" A surprisingly bubbly voice came from one of the pair as the door closed behind him. "Relax, it's not like we've got a bone to pick with you or anything."

"Subtle." Said the other, far more serious woman. "I told you to be nice because we've got plenty on our plates."

"Plates. Right. Because of the restaurant." Andrea's response garnered a response from Taylor Snow, as Mr. Lavere sat down across from the odd couple. "So you're allowed to make jokes?"

Snow was surprisingly expressive as her choice of words registered and she sighed with an exhaustion he empathized with, like when his daughter managed to win an argument by logic through sheer luck or coincidence. He failed to suppress a chuckle as eyes turned to him.

"See? Even our guest can handle a good ribbing!" Andrea Campbell's words bore no extra emphasis but her eyebrows did the work to make up for that.

"Enough Andrea." Snow turned to him with a serious expression but it wasn't threatening. He still remembered that face. "Mr. Lavere, I'm sure you have questions and hopefully we can settle before we order the main course for multiple reasons."

"I admit, I was surprised a few times throughout our correspondence and now that I'm here, each answer seems to bring only more questions. I suppose I should ask if you wish to sill address Mr. Lavere or are digging up past grievances?" He sat up in his chair.

"It is likely to all be with you, though the topics will include other faces." Trust an intelligence expert to know more than you want. "This conversation borders or outright crosses over the line of the Rules of Capes as it were, but I am not here speaking as an agent of the PRT."

"And yet, you are an agent of the PRT. That does go away as easily as changing an outfit."

"You could say she's a badass down to her bones!" Andrea chimed in. "Okay, I'm all done for now. Just had to get it out."

"As you can see, my girlfriend is quite humorous but it's important that she's here for this." His raised eyebrow mirrored Andrea's. "Fuck. I didn't mean that one either."

Andrea was softly laughing. "Lisa must be dying from this." A name he was unfamiliar with as he started to worry about possible recordings now. "Don't worry, she's a... silent partner." Somehow that made her laugh harder, like the only person in on a joke. Snow's defeated expression alleviated his concerns of anyone else ruining this meeting.

"Yes, you could say that. I know you have kept tabs on my career, for what was allowed to leak by either myself or the PRT-"

"Allowed?" He interrupted. Sure, he knew of controlling the flow of information but her confidence in that choice of words caused him to throw away decorum. "Are you implying such a great grasp on the internal workings that leaks only happen if you so choose?"

"Oh, nothing of the sort." She waved him off with false modesty so absurd and poorly veiled he nearly took offense. "Nothing so grand. No, in the years I've worked with the PRT I have shored up our defenses in that department as strong as possible. I know that doesn't include everything, but with all the eyes on me and the backing of my superiors, it's relatively easy to cover up my covert operations by hiding them in plain sight. They don't know all of them, of course."

"I-" He need a moment. Rumors of her being a Maverick were always understated. He knew her unique and expert tactics firsthand. "I want to say I find it hard to believe you've done off the books operations in your own personal interest."

"And yet?" Her tone was level. Her gaze fully on him, evaluating at a level that surpassed most he encountered. Perhaps all but to put her so high felt like too terrifying a prospect that Snow truly was at such a high level above him.

"And yet, pieces started to fall into place. This meeting itself that you know my identities yet haven't reported to your superiors, Ms. Campbell leading an investment firm that exploded out of nowhere with some well armed staff even my men know to avoid. In my background checks, one thing most would miss is that on the weekend before we first met-"

"Ah, sweet memories." Andrea managed to bring levity and avoid any animosity from that time. He elevated his view of her by several points and understood her purpose here now.

"Yes. That previous weekend you and three of your friends took a jaunt out of town. A certain Canadian also came to a sudden end but none claimed the kill, and the government found no traces except what they suspected were a pair of a man and woman with with expert military training."

Snow shook her head. "Oh, I forgot about that fact."

"I thought it was you and Gladys?" A name he remembered because of who she knew. Connections were always important to maintain.

"Yes Andrea, it was. I saw the reports a few months later but it slipped my mind. Probably a good thing, I don't think she would be happy with their appraisal of her."

"Are you saying that of the four of you, it was Gladys Knott, a high school vice principal, who killed a national supervillain and not yourself or Kinsey?"

A wry smile is what she offered. "She is the better shot out of the group." Truth truly was stranger than fiction. "Back on track, yes, I am known for my work in intelligence and that was one of many such actions I have taken. Probably one of the more altruistic ones too now that I think of it."

It was at this point that the appetizers arrived and conversation paused. Andrea ate her clam chowder so fast he doubted she tasted it, and as Snow put a few clams and oysters on her plate she gave a withering stare to Andrea and a silent conversation ended in the latter's defeat.

"On to business, or lack thereof. We aren't planning on any monetary deals at the moment simply because our circles of interest don't overlap enough. No, we're here to discuss Marquis' enemies."

"Are you implying to take an interest and ally yourself with a known villain and leader of organized crime in your home town while still working for the government? I expect some outrageous things following new facts but even this is too farfetched."

"And you would be right. We have no interest in stopping them from going after you." As expected. "We also do not plan to aid any who pursue you. Organized crime is, at the very least, organized. Compared to any number of criminals, you crest just past acceptable but provide a workable environment that doesn't detract from the Bay's value."

"How unexpectedly pragmatic."

"The problem," She took a drink to calm herself of some latent anger. "The problem with that is that Marquis has other interests. Personal ones."

"I take it you are not here to threaten those?" An edge crept into his voice. He had come close to breaking his code a few times, and if ever there was a reason to finally do so it would be in defense of daughter.

"The opposite." He remained tense. "You see, despite your experience and strengths there will come a time when you do get caught. It will likely not end well for you at all, with supermax being the most promising spot to hope for. I've seen the evaluations though and you understand where you are likely heading to when the law catches up."

"Baumann. The Birdcage."

"Yes. It's a travesty of engineering. Some things even I cannot fight though. So the question remains, what happens to those personal interests? Have you considered the inevitable an prepared for it? Some groups are out for your blood, and when they see it flow out of you they will not stop until they raze your legacy too."

He paled. "Surely you don't mean to imply even some of the heroes would stoop so low?"

She nodded. "The Brigade in particular, yes. Any proper law enforcement would likely fail to shuffle her in the system and any of your past enemies would have no trouble hunting her down for revenge. The sins of the father or just pure vindictiveness."

"I never considered. Not truly." A minute to gather himself. "In the back of my mind, I haven't wanted to acknowledge that possibility. We've only had so little time together and to spend it fretting about that being taken from me I didn't want to waste time on."

"And what were you hoping would happen?"

"I guess it would have been just hoping they keep their word to take care of Amelia."

"Mr. Lavere. You have talked with many capes. I'm sure you understand what category of people the Brigade falls under, especially under Brandish's leadership."

"I don't want to."

"No. You don't. But even a superficial understanding of the woman shows a seething hatred for you that is irrational. She has no connection to you or your past misdeeds. I've checked."

"Then why?"

"A massive stick up her ass. That's why." It was not Andrea with the vulgarity though. She was busy drinking at that moment which was now on its way out. "If I'm right-" A snort. "Then Marquis likely pushes the same buttons as someone from her past she cannot forget. Yes, I know what I'm implying and there's nothing that can be done about it now. Any earlier wouldn't have helped much either. The past can't be rewritten, after all." Another snort.

"This has certainly been more enlightening than contract negotiations, that is for sure. Why did you want Amelia so close yet unaware of her location?"

Her smug grin answered him. "So that once you order for her, she won't have to wait long for the food." Andrea was perusing the menu beside her and likely picking for them both. "I'd like to think we've enough trust for that."

He sighed but it was in relief and not defeat. After a short phone call, he let them know it would be about eight minutes.

"Good. I'm sure you can guess what I'm going to ask you inform your legal council for contingency plans."

"I can... The question is why you? Why me? Our past cannot even be described as checkered."

"Mr. Lavere, I have studied many parahuman behaviors and trends. One of them is the possibility of second gen capes. The children of capes have not had much time to be studied, but their powers are somewhat reflective of their parent. Patterns become solidified from trauma, and their environment works to shape their future."

"And you hope to raise her so that if she gains powers, she'll be your own personal soldier?" Venom suffused his words.

"The opposite." She brushed off his threat as one does a buzzing fly. "Believe it or not, she's not the only child we're planning on raising. Or have. What I'm offering you is someone who understands you on a level none of your enemies do and whose word can be trusted. Should you lose custody of Amelia, Andrea and I would provide her a loving environment that, protection from your past enemies, and a guiding hand not blinded by hatred."

"I am coming around to this idea more now that you explain. I was unaware you already adopted? Am I to guess this other child is also a potential parahuman?"

"Not adopted. I'll spare you the details but a I also sought out another parahuman who is a single father but didn't have the best idea on how to do so. His irrational fears would have hindered her and likely lead to her triggering, or at least a major factor of it. We don't intend to raise a personal team to defend ourselves, but at the very least give a stable environment to at risk young parahumans and nip any cycles of desperation and crime in the bud."

"If it were anyone else, Taylor Snow, I would not believe a word of it."

"And from me?"

"I think you are honest. I can see what you intend to do and why, but I also can see them wanting to work with you should they come into powers of their own even if it isn't your intention. I think that answers all my questions except for one."

How does her eyebrow raise that far? "And that would be?"

"Where does your James Kinsey fit into all of this? You have dragged him through almost your entire career and I cannot see that changing if you leave the PRT, yet he's not here."

"Oh, we gave him the night off." Andrea piped in. "Ok, we actually gave him a little mission to spend his time on and he took the hint. He probably knows we're meeting with you by now and you two coming face to face didn't seem like a good idea." She turned to Snow. "How does he fit in though?"

"Nanny?" Snow seemed to pick the word like the best of a set of bad choices.

"Nanny." Andrea was caught by surprise.

"Nanny." Snow sagely nodded.

"I'm calling him!" Andrea pulled out a phone and dialed with one hand while fighting off snow with the other. The call was put on speakerphone.

"Andrea, how is the meeting going? I was under the impression it would still be at this moment and the silence lends credence that no backup is required."

"Yer darn tootin'! Kinsey, how'd you like to be a nanny?"

Mr. Lavere could hear the intake of breath. "I am capable of most tasks many would deem unwilling to participate but i find my current employment satisfactory"

"Well, it would be a kid that Taylor and I would adopt."

"As I stated, I am capable of-"

"No diapers! She'll definitely be potty trained by then." She interjected.

"I look forward to meeting the little tyke when the day comes." It amazed him how a man could emote while changing nothing about his vocal tone.

"Got it. Catcha ya later." She hung up with a victorious smile. She turned to Snow. "He probably likes that title better than nursemaid."

Snow just shook her head. "It would be best for that to be left in the past. Anyways, Mr. Lavere, does that satisfy you?"

Before he could answer, a freckled brunette girl ran through the door holding a coloring book and charged right at him. She managed to not trip on her way and jump at him, where he caught her one handed from his seat and perched her on his lap for the moment.

After a few minutes of catching up with her where she told an intense tale of a runaway cat that circled her and the guards but was lured in with the offer of snacks. She listed every food it didn't like, and even how it did not want to use her crayons. During this recounting of events, he saw the faces of the two women in his peripheral vision and saw nothing but humor and joy. Andrea even added a few questions to help her focus.

"Amelia, I wanted to introduce you to two of my friends. These are Andrea Campbell and her girlfriend Taylor Snow. Andrea runs businesses like your daddy does and Taylor works for the PRT."

"Like with Alexandria?" Wonder on Amelia's face as she turned to Snow and a brief emotion flickered over Snow's face that was not what he expected from a PRT employee, let alone her.

"Yeah Amelia. I've met her a few times but I couldn't ask for an autograph."

"Why not? I would ask her if I met her."

Taylor leaned over conspiratorially, fake whispering. "It's because we got a picture together." His daughter was certainly impressed as conversation flowed, eventually the dishes were brought out for the main course. Andrea tried to show how to crack crab legs to Amelia, but she wisely pointed out that her lobster macaroni and cheese did not need anything but a fork.

"Amelia, there's another reason I wanted you to meet these two. Do you want to know why?"

She thought. "Do you work with them?"

"No."

"Are they superheroes?"

"Yes." "No." Andrea and Snow answered simultaneously. Snow took over. "No, we work with some though."

"I give up." She didn't want to admit defeat, his daughter inherited some of his pride after all, but she couldn't talk and eat at the same time.

"These two are your godparents." Andrea was much more emotive, but that slight watering in Snow's eyes hinted a a whirlwind of emotions behind a hardened mask. "Do you know what that means?"

"No. Are they like more parents?" She gasped and whispered. "Super parents."

"No dear. I wanted you to meet them and you could get to know each other. Godparents are who I trust to take care of you if something happens to me." She was about to ask some obvious questions. "No, I'm not going away any time soon. But accidents do happen. Like when you scraped your knee last week."

"So if you scrape your knee they will take me away?"

Andrea laughed and decided to join in now. "No kid. Honey? I don't do nicknames well. Amelia, if your dad gets really hurt one day, he wants us to watch over you until he gets better. If you were in the hospital, he would stay with you. But if he was in the hospital, somebody would need to take care of you while he couldn't."

A few more questions and clarifications, as much as can happen with a child her age, and eventually she got "backup parents" out of it all, comparing it to extra clothes when they went swimming in case they got wet. Why that resolved matters, he couldn't say, but children worked in mysterious ways. They told her about their jobs as much as they could, Snow telling obviously embellished tales that still fascinated his little girl.

As dinner finished, they exited the restaurant and the tall raven-haired woman pulled him aside.

"There's one more thing you likely didn't consider." He hated to admit it but she was right and a meeting with his lawyer was already long overdue. He motioned her to continue. "Write some fucking letters."

"Letters?"

"You probably didn't think of it, but consider a dozen events. Probably less, but at least three. If you grow to be an old man and look back, what are the most cherished memories going to be of your daughter? Her school graduation? Her first day? Her wedding?"

"And write letters?"

"Write a speech you would give her. Because chances are you won't be able to do that in person."

The reality set in. A weight descended. This last year was the best he ever had because of his daughter coming to live with him. He never considered what him going away would do to her.

"I understand." He gave her a solid handshake, failed to fight off a huge from Andrea, and eventually drove away with Amelia once the valet returned. This meeting was full of surprises. He looked at his daughter falling asleep at a red light and knew she had a bright future that wouldn't be shaded by his past.

 

[Ack]

Crossposted from SB, where someone asked the question.

The LA situation got resolved.

Andrea had already withdrawn her mercenaries, so the only people left causing trouble were the ones who'd wanted to cause trouble anyway and just needed a nudge. Taylor passed on to Alexandria exactly where to find all the ringleaders, the weapon caches (which had existed before all this), the whole nine yards. Taking out all that basically snuffed out the whole thing in less than a day.

Dynamax went in front of a tribunal, where evidence was presented (via a strategically left-behind videotape where someone was 'accidentally caught on camera' briefly discussing how they were going to frame a hero for the whole thing) that exonerated him. He was moved to another part of LA and underwent a few sessions aimed at keeping up his situational awareness. It wasn't a fun time for him, but he ended up being a better hero because of it.

The tape was 'accidentally' leaked to the news services, and Manny Cruz went overnight from 'victim of racism' to 'patsy of terrorists'. After Alexandria had a quiet word with him, he confessed to his part in it (not naming any important names, because he didn't know any) and this also became part of the tribunal evidence. He's now serving time as an accomplice.

The guy who died absolutely intended to truck-bomb a government building. He was no innocent.

Andrea was dubious, but the end result convinced her that it was overall a good thing (especially after Lisa confirmed that Eidolon was accidentally controlling Behemoth, and there had been more to come). She did have a few words with Taylor about the whole 'starting riots' thing. Taylor apologised, and promised she wouldn't do that specific thing again.

Just talking to Eidolon would have had extremely unpredictable results, given that the Endbringers came out because he wanted to be the world's greatest hero. Taylor knew that she only had one shot at getting him to do something, and this was the most likely to succeed. Even if she'd spoken to him normally and gotten him to agree, there was a distinctly non-zero chance that he would've talked himself out of it again by the time the situation came around.

 

[Ack]

Poon of Contention

omake by Luan Mao, with inspiration from KingHoborg, who was inspired by Luan Mao, who was inspired by ack1308, who was inspired by wildbow

"Would you like to have dinner with me?"

Taylor was too startled to respond at once. She opened her mouth to tell Kimball that she wasn't interested, that she was leaving town soon, that she was in a long-term relationship with a woman who loved her truly, that she had her eye on another man. The few seconds it took for Taylor to sort out her thoughts and untangle her tongue were plenty enough for a low growling to become audible over the street noises.

Kinsey looked about ready to rip Kimball into little pieces. Before she could ask him what that was all about, a cab came screeching up, the door burst open, and a woman burst out. "I knew it! Get away from her! She's mine!"

Everyone turned to stare at Andrea. True to form, she didn't look the least bit embarrassed. She simply glared at Kimball as she stomped up to Taylor and wrapped her arms possessively around her.

Kinsey had returned to his normal alert posture, constantly scanning for threats, but Taylor thought she saw something behind his expressionless expression.

Andrea saw it, too. "I won't fight you for her, Kinsey. I'm a lover, not a fighter. What do you say we share?"

That startled Taylor out of her silence. "What?! Wait a minute, don't I—"

Andrea laid her finger across her love's lips. "Shush, you. This is for your own good."

Unnoticed by the others, Kimball slipped back into the police station. PRT people were crazy!

 

[Mr. Tebbs]

Taylor found herself in a funk after her vacation, and strolled the halls of the PRT building semi-aimlessly. Lisa said I'd be able to find something to lift my spirits around here, I'd just have to keep my eyes open.

Walking around a corner, she saw several deskjockies having an animated discussion... No they're just sharing a laugh, and one of them's waving a piece of paper around. aaaaaan yoink!
she thought as she snagged the paper out of the luckless jocky's hands and walked on.

Let's see 'PRT Rules: Chicago edition' As she read the rules she burst out laughing.

"Oh god.. that's too much..." mmmm I feel like I should add to this. Maybe something like 'Taylor Snow knows everything, even that maggot and you should be ashamed'

She searched for a pen to write with but couldn't find one; and a trip to the nearest empty desk revealed a lack of pens as well, though it did yield a paperclip. She then proceeded to pick the lock on the drawers of the desk, grab a pen, and lock the desk again

"ahha!" Taylor crowed as she wrote on the bottom of the list: 7) Taylor Snow is prepared for anything, even especially if she isn't.

 

[Ack]

... fine.

Omake, which may or may not end up being canon.

You have been warned.

********************
The interior of El Grande Ice Cream Emporium was, to put it mildly, a mess. A dozen children, ranging in age from eight to thirteen, ran back and forth, grabbing scoops of ice cream and flinging them at one another. Multicoloured confectionary decorated every wall, the ceiling, and all of the combatants. The staff were also similarly besplodged; most of them were lurking behind the counter, trying to establish order, with exactly zero success.

The delighted (and not so delighted) shouts of children at war were interrupted by the squeal of brakes. Sarah froze, allowing a dollop of raspberry creme (usually her favourite) to hit the side of her face and slide down. "Oh crap!" she yelled. "Mom Taylor's here!"

Immediately, all the other children stopped what they were doing. Rachel, a scoop of watermelon delight poised to throw, let it slide down her arm and splatter on the ground, where Rollo promptly devoured it.

"We're in trou-ble...." she quavered.

"Quick! Think!" snapped Brian. "A bunch of villains came in ..."

" ... and they tried to rob the place," added Amelia helpfully.

"And we stopped 'em!" shouted little Aisha stoutly. "With ice cream! Like this!"

Before anyone could stop her, she loaded up her spoon one more time and let it fly.

Toward the door, as it happened.

The door which was opening.

To admit a particular person.

Taylor Snow, crack shot and deadly hand to hand combatant, once a captain in the PRT, the only person known to have ever predicted Behemoth's attacks, reached up and caught the ice-cream in midair, an instant before it would have splattered into her reflective aviator shades.

Absolute, terrified silence fell over the cafe. Taylor let it hang there, then she brought the ice cream to her mouth and tasted it.

"Butterscotch surprise," she noted. "Huh. Nice choice."

She licked the rest of the ice cream from her hand, then surveyed the absolute chaos that can only be wrought by small children. She stepped forward; her polished military boots thumped loudly in the absolute silence.

"Now then," she observed. "Who wants to tell me who started it?"

"Villains!" shouted Brian.

"Tried to rob the place!" young Missy supported him.

"We stopped 'em with ice cream!" shrieked Aisha gleefully. "Like -"

Taylor cleared her throat.

Everyone shut up. Aisha froze, in the act of reaching for more ice cream.

"Everyone who's mine, into the Hummer," she suggested, her voice mild. "Now."

'Her' children trooped, crestfallen, out of the cafe, and climbed into the back of the steel-grey HMMWV that sat at the curb, The other kids followed along, and clustered around the open doors of the vehicle.

"That was fun, but are you gonna be in much trouble?" asked Tyler, trying to wipe chocolate fudge out of his curly brown hair, and failing. "I mean, Aunt Taylor's cool, but she doesn't take any crap."

Sarah fended off Rollo, who was having an absolute ball licking stray ice cream off of everyone. "Mom Taylor'll punish us, but that won't be the bad bit," she told him. "The bad bit will be Mom Andrea being disappointed at us."

"She does that real good," chimed in Amelia. "I'm sorry we did this already, an' we haven't even been punished yet."

Taylor emerged from the cafe. "Okay," she told them. "I've paid for the ice cream, and the damage. You're allowed back. But don't do it again."

"Yes, Mom Taylor," chorused the children in the Hummer.

"But what about us?" asked Missy.

Taylor lowered her aviator shades and looked at the blonde girl over them. "I paid for you too. But I strongly suggest you go home and tell your mommies and daddies exactly what you've done today."

"But we'll get in trouble," wailed Dinah. "I just know it!"

Taylor nodded judiciously. "Oh, yes," she agreed with a smile. "But it won't be the end of the world."


There was going to be more, but that's a perfect ending place.