Crossed Wires

Shades of Gray

She is following him, board whispering along quietly as he walks at a normal pace for once, backpack bouncing with every step he takes. She wonders if she's missed a heist, because the bag looks heavy. Yet he shoulders it carefully, turning a corner and stopping under the lamplight.

"Stalking isn't cute, Spectre, even if you are." Nancy shrugged, appearing in the visible spectrum and popping off her board.

"Thievery isn't either, but here we are." The early summer air was just warm enough to be comfortable and she wondered what it would be like to meet under better circumstances. She wondered if they could just be normal for once, no costumes, no masks.

"Didn't steal any of this." He pulls a receipt from the inner pocket of his jacket. The paper is crinkled but clear, the record of a couple dozen cans of soup, vegetables, and evaporated milk stretched between them.

"Huh," she feels like a heel, "where's it headed to?" His goggles flash in the lamplight as he rubs the back of his neck, exhaling tiredly.

" If I tell you," his tone is serious, "will you go with me?" She nods before she can stop herself, endeared by the way he so clearly wants company and unwilling to leave him hanging.  "It's for the soup kitchen we crashed through last week when I hit up the bank a few blocks over. You know the one with the -"

"Money laundering ponzi scheme preying on the elderly, yeah." She finishes, touched by his actions. "We would never have noticed if you hadn't brought it to our attention in that incredibly illegal way you have ." God, she hated to think it, that his methods got results, but his position gave him access to whispers she never heard, boys clubs she was inherently disqualified to enter on equal footing.

"Is that a thank you?" He sidestepped the dig on his methods, that instead of pointing it out to the police he simply planned to steal all of the money back from the hidden vaults and redistribute it appropriately. His grin was all too quick, as he leaned in, "Does this mean you owe me?"

She snorted. "Nope. Consider it community service for your impressive rap sheet."

His pout was unfairly cute, lower lip jutted just so, and she was glad that the shadows and faded light couldn't highlight the faint pink she was sure had painted her cheeks like the faint sprinkle of stars visible in the falling city night.

"You're so dedicated." He laughed brightly. "It's one of the things I like most about you, you know? How immovable your sense of good is. It's inspiring." He cast her a look over his shoulder as he started to walk in the right direction. "Too bad we aren't on the same side, because if we were," he smirked, shifted his backpack a bit, "I might let you catch me a bit more often."

She grinned, "Says the man I stop on a regular basis." He shook his head, stopping and leaning towards her as if to tell her a secret.

"There is a difference between stopping me and capturing me." His whisper carried in the quiet, silky voice a sinuous thread between them in the still warm night. 

"Maybe if we were on the same side," she replied lightly, "I wouldn't suspect you of evil when you're dropping off canned goods at a soup kitchen."

He shrugged. "Maybe. Who knows? You ready?"

They headed deeper into the dark and Nancy realized a truth she really didn't need as she slid the goods straight through the locked door.

She is in love with Ben, irreparably, irrevocably in love.

She wishes desperately that they were on the same side.