smiled at him. "Good. Now, where's Wanda with that coffee pot?"
It turned out that Wanda was approaching them as she said this. As she filled each of their mugs, she said, "Your friend didn't pay his bill, Keepsie, are you picking it up?"
***
After grudgingly picking up the tab for Clever Jack's breakfast, they left the diner.
"We can go around and around on the villains versus heroes thing all day.
The thing is," Keepsie said, "that the Academy is full of thugs. But we still don't know what this thing is or what Doodad plans on doing with it."
"He's been spreading mischief for weeks," Peter said. "There was no breaking out of his cell and finding a safe place to be like Clever Jack did;
Doodad stayed here. He may even have a lair or something by now."
Ian nodded fervently. "Dude just tries to make trouble for the heroes, and we get caught in the crossfire."
"But isn't that what I did last night? Make trouble for the heroes because I could?" Keepsie asked quietly.
Michelle looked at her, stricken. "You're not like them, Keepsie!"
Keepsie kicked a rock into the gutter. "Really? I didn't have any affection for Doodad. He scared the shit out of me yesterday. He kidnapped me and used me; he knew exactly how I'd react when the heroes came calling. And still I didn't help the Academy. White Lightning saved my life and I can't do anything but hate him because of how he treated me."
"Yeah, but he's an asshole, Keepsie. No one can like that guy," Ian said.
They walked on toward the bar. It was not yet time to open, but they figured it was a good place to talk in private and discuss Keepsie's options.
Peter had no idea what he would do in her position.
"Pretty day," Michelle said after a while. They made agreeable noises.
"Yeah, real nice, except for the heroes flying around," Ian said. Keepsie snapped her head up.
Peter followed her gaze. White Lightning was flying over them, arms outstretched, cape flapping behind him. He looked as if he was heading for the Academy. The few people on the street called out to him and waved, and a few women blew kisses.
"It's just a hero," Peter said when he saw Keepsie's stricken expression.
"’Just’." Keepsie replied. She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. "I can't do this, guys. I can't fight them. I'm scared of what the villains will do with the device and I'm scared of what the heroes will do to me."
"It's not like they can take anything from you," said Ian.
"True, but they can arrest me. I can still protect all of my stuff when I’m sitting in jail. I'm going to give it to them."
Michelle put her hand on Keepsie’s shoulder. "We're with you, Keepsie, whatever you decide."
"Thanks," Keepsie said.
Peter looked up the street and his heart fell. "Um, Keepsie. You need to see this.”
People were collected at the top of the stairs leading down to Keepsie's Bar. Police officers. Three tall men, complete with blue hats, badges, doughnut bellies and guns (and one even sported the handlebar moustache), accompanied by a shorter black man in a suit. They stood expectantly and watched Peter, Keepsie, Ian and Michelle.
"Shit. What do we do now?" Ian asked.
"Go talk to them, I expect. They have guns, we don't," Peter said.
Ian pushed up his sweatshirt sleeves. "The hell we don't.” "Ian, chill," Michelle said. "You'll just get yourself in trouble if you attack cops. Come on."
Keepsie hadn't spoken. She stared at the men. Without looking at her friends, she walked forward with a "welcoming a new customer she didn't know" smile on her face.
"Gentlemen, the bar doesn't open for a couple of hours. But I'll be happy to serve you when it does," she said.
"Ms. Laura Branson?" asked the shorter man, pulling aside his jacket to indicate a silver badge hanging on his belt.
"Please, call me Keepsie," she said, stretching her hand out. "And you are?"
"Michael Orson of the State Alcohol Board." He did not shake her hand.
She dropped it after a moment's hesitation, but her
It turned out that Wanda was approaching them as she said this. As she filled each of their mugs, she said, "Your friend didn't pay his bill, Keepsie, are you picking it up?"
***
After grudgingly picking up the tab for Clever Jack's breakfast, they left the diner.
"We can go around and around on the villains versus heroes thing all day.
The thing is," Keepsie said, "that the Academy is full of thugs. But we still don't know what this thing is or what Doodad plans on doing with it."
"He's been spreading mischief for weeks," Peter said. "There was no breaking out of his cell and finding a safe place to be like Clever Jack did;
Doodad stayed here. He may even have a lair or something by now."
Ian nodded fervently. "Dude just tries to make trouble for the heroes, and we get caught in the crossfire."
"But isn't that what I did last night? Make trouble for the heroes because I could?" Keepsie asked quietly.
Michelle looked at her, stricken. "You're not like them, Keepsie!"
Keepsie kicked a rock into the gutter. "Really? I didn't have any affection for Doodad. He scared the shit out of me yesterday. He kidnapped me and used me; he knew exactly how I'd react when the heroes came calling. And still I didn't help the Academy. White Lightning saved my life and I can't do anything but hate him because of how he treated me."
"Yeah, but he's an asshole, Keepsie. No one can like that guy," Ian said.
They walked on toward the bar. It was not yet time to open, but they figured it was a good place to talk in private and discuss Keepsie's options.
Peter had no idea what he would do in her position.
"Pretty day," Michelle said after a while. They made agreeable noises.
"Yeah, real nice, except for the heroes flying around," Ian said. Keepsie snapped her head up.
Peter followed her gaze. White Lightning was flying over them, arms outstretched, cape flapping behind him. He looked as if he was heading for the Academy. The few people on the street called out to him and waved, and a few women blew kisses.
"It's just a hero," Peter said when he saw Keepsie's stricken expression.
"’Just’." Keepsie replied. She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. "I can't do this, guys. I can't fight them. I'm scared of what the villains will do with the device and I'm scared of what the heroes will do to me."
"It's not like they can take anything from you," said Ian.
"True, but they can arrest me. I can still protect all of my stuff when I’m sitting in jail. I'm going to give it to them."
Michelle put her hand on Keepsie’s shoulder. "We're with you, Keepsie, whatever you decide."
"Thanks," Keepsie said.
Peter looked up the street and his heart fell. "Um, Keepsie. You need to see this.”
People were collected at the top of the stairs leading down to Keepsie's Bar. Police officers. Three tall men, complete with blue hats, badges, doughnut bellies and guns (and one even sported the handlebar moustache), accompanied by a shorter black man in a suit. They stood expectantly and watched Peter, Keepsie, Ian and Michelle.
"Shit. What do we do now?" Ian asked.
"Go talk to them, I expect. They have guns, we don't," Peter said.
Ian pushed up his sweatshirt sleeves. "The hell we don't.” "Ian, chill," Michelle said. "You'll just get yourself in trouble if you attack cops. Come on."
Keepsie hadn't spoken. She stared at the men. Without looking at her friends, she walked forward with a "welcoming a new customer she didn't know" smile on her face.
"Gentlemen, the bar doesn't open for a couple of hours. But I'll be happy to serve you when it does," she said.
"Ms. Laura Branson?" asked the shorter man, pulling aside his jacket to indicate a silver badge hanging on his belt.
"Please, call me Keepsie," she said, stretching her hand out. "And you are?"
"Michael Orson of the State Alcohol Board." He did not shake her hand.
She dropped it after a moment's hesitation, but her
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