Powerless Against You

by Elizabeth Gannon

  “You know our little wallflower, ma’am.” Deacon nodded, taking on a mock serious tone. “She’s like the sun; she keeps to herself, but her mere presence brings such light and warmth to us all. Our drear Mia never thinks of herself, if she can do good to others.”

  Mia shook her head at him in pure nauseated irritation. “Please tell me you mean ‘for’ others?”

  He smirked, looking innocent. “On the contrary,” his voice lowered to a whisper so that her mother couldn’t hear, “I can think of several ‘good’ things you can do to me.”

  “Oh, look at him! He’s got his father’s good looks and dark heart.” Mia’s mother ran her hand down his cheek. “You, dear boy, are destined to do horrible things to this world.”

  “Aw, thanks.” He smiled at her pleasantly.

  “How is it that you keep getting handsomer every time I see you?”

  “Oh, just trying to keep up with you, ma’am. Every year, I think this will be the year that I finally consider myself worthy of you and come and steal you away from all of this, but every year I’m once again dazzled by your ever-increasing beauty.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Deacon!” Mia pushed at him. “Give it a rest, huh? I think there’s probably some drunken stripper in your room right now wondering where you are. Don’t keep her waiting.”

  “Don’t mind her.” Deacon said sadly, still focused on Mia’s mother. “I don’t think she’ll ever be able to accept our love, ma’am.” He kissed her mother’s hand flirtatiously.

  Her mother made a delighted sound and pulled away in amusement. “Oh, you!” She took his hand under her arm and began to stroll through the event with him. “You always were a smooth talker, weren’t you?”

  “Personally, I’m just wondering if we’ll let Mia live with us once we’re married.” He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Mia, your mother and I don’t expect you to change your last name to ‘DeWitt’ right away, but as soon as you feel comfortable with it, you can start calling me ‘Dad’ and…”

  Her mother laughed again, cutting him off. “You’re such a tease! Your father was just like that. I remember once we were on a job trying to create a device which would drain the world of all its oxygen, and we were sitting there watching you and Mia play with some of the wires, and he turned to me and said…”

  “I’m sure Deacon has better things to do than reminisce about the old days, Mom.” She interrupted, glaring at the man. “Don’t you?”

  He pursed his lips, putting on a show of giving the matter deep thought. “Nope.” He finally decided. “Not a thing.” He smiled down at her mother again. “Go ahead and remind me of all the delightful little Mia anecdotes you remember.” He leaned against one of the tables. “The more embarrassing the better.”

  ***

  One hour and a dozen humiliating stories later, Mia was sitting inside the “Decomposing Turtle” nursing her drink. The establishment was adjacent to the convention space, and was the main villain bar in the city, due in no small part to its rather colorful name keeping away the normal people. After all, no one in their right mind would ever want to even go through the doors of the place. The sign outside featured a neon cartoon turtle on its back, little Xs for eyes and a lolling tongue. It was probably the only thing about the bar which was at all humorous. It was the kind of seedy dive you went to when you wanted to discuss some terrible thing you were planning and didn’t want anyone bothering you. It was favored by all the super-powered lunatics, madmen and killers in the city.

  Mia had her eighteenth birthday party here. The event was lovely.

  Until Deacon used a chrono-distorter to send her birthday cake back in time.

  Asshole.

  She motioned at the bartender, and her glass was promptly refilled.

  The problem with Deacon was that he was always there unless you wanted him to be there… which you never would, as that would be crazy.

  As crazy as flirting with scores of strange women at a party.

  No, he was always lurking around trying to ruin her fun and remind her of how completely impossible it was to ever be rid of him. Remind her that she had no experience and a bad track record when she tried to help people.

  Plus, he hadn’t danced with her on her birthday. She distinctly remembered that. He had been too busy laying the careful groundwork for his latest prank, and had completely ignored the fact that her date had mysteriously disappeared. She had been alone for the night’s most romantic song, watching everyone else have fun.

  Not that she really wanted to dance with him or anything, but at the very least, it would have been the gentlemanly thing to do. It would have showed her that there was more to him than just a pretty face and ill intentions.

  The man was like one of those jungle cats. They were pretty, but if you invited them to your graduation, they would use an invisibility ray to turn everyone’s clothes invisible.

  She downed her latest drink and ordered another round.

  Because when you really came down to it, jungle cats were fucking assholes! That’s why they stayed in the jungle and people wore their dismembered corpses around as fashion statements. Because jungle cats were nowhere to be found when you wanted to dance with them. They only paid attention when they could totally…

  “Why are you hiding out in here?”

  She slammed back another round, hoping to render herself so drunk that she could hallucinate him away.

  “I’m not hiding,” she sniffed in indignation, “I’m avoiding.”

  “And who are you avoiding?” He asked calmly.

  “Take one guess, Deacon.”

  “Well, certainly not me. Even moments without me around would just be hurting yourself.” He sat at the bar next to her, putting on a show of concern. “Don’t use alcohol to mask that pain, Mia. The hurt goes too deep for that.” He took her hand. “But it’s okay now.” He patted her hand reassuringly. “I’m right here. The nightmare is finally over.”

  She tried to suppress a smile and failed. She yanked her hand back. “You’re not funny.” She finished off her drink. “Or charming. I’ve known you too long to be fooled by any of your crap.”

  “Frankly, I’m just surprised you ever found any of my crap ‘charming.’” He held up his hand to get the bartender’s attention. “I think we’re making progress.”

  “Well, I might be little drunk,” she admitted, “plus, I have a warped sense of what’s endearing and what’s not.”

  “Your friendship with me makes no sense, then, as my character and personality are beyond all approach.”

  “Beyond all ‘reproach,’ dingus.” She rolled her eyes. “Learn the fucking language, huh?”

  “I am aware of the saying, and I can modify it as much as I like.”

  The bartender arrived, dressed as an elevator operator.

  Deacon smiled at the young woman who looked far too young to even be in a bar, let alone tending one. “Hello, can I have whatever’s on tap, please?”

  “We don’t serve you, DeWitt.” The girl walked away. “Fuck off and die.”

  His smile faded slightly, and he pointed at the girl as if just recognizing her. “You know, I think I held her little brother for ransom once.” He nodded to himself. “Nice folks.”

  Mia turned to look at him. “I see what you mean. You are beyond all approach, aren’t you?” She put her face down on the bar. “Why can’t you just leave me alone? What is it about you that you can’t ever stop harassing me?”

  “How is this harassment? This is just two friends enjoying a drink together.” He paused. “Well, one friend enjoying a drink, and the other friend enjoying the fact that the first friend is enjoying a drink, because the underage bartender won’t serve the second friend a drink of his own to enjoy because of some regrettable circumstances which are being blown entirely out of proportion.”

  She made an annoyed sound again. “Can’t you just let me get drunk in peace?”

  He watched her for a moment, then shook his head
. “This isn’t the kind of place where a woman alone should go to get drunk out of her mind, Mia. Generally speaking, villains aren’t known for being gentlemen.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You wouldn’t care if I blew every guy in the room. You just want to go someplace where you can drink, too.” She picked her head up off the bar. “What, you wanna go across the street or something? Would you feel better at that bar?”

  “No, thanks.” He shook his head. “I’m legally forbidden from entering that establishment.” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Little incident with a flame thrower, which I won’t bore you with.”

  “You always bore me.” She motioned for another drink, and her glass was promptly refilled.

  Deacon looked down at the floor for a long moment. “Yes, so I’ve noticed.” He reached over to grab her shot and downed it in one gulp. “The fact remains, though, this isn’t someplace you should be alone.”

  She pushed at him. “I’m a villainess, asshole, okay?” She gestured to the disreputable people arranged around the darkened interior. “And these are my people!” She raised her glass to them in a toast, then remembered that Deacon had already finished off her drink. She scowled at the empty glass and put it back on the bar.

  A man at the corner table raised his voice. “We’re not going to hurt, Mia, DeWitt.” He looked truly insulted. “She introduced me to my wife and is my kid’s fucking godmother.” He rolled his eyes and ate another one of his onion rings. “You just live in this paranoid dream world where everyone’s always trying to take what’s yours.”

  Mia was actually touched by that for a moment, but then fully processed the man’s words. “Wait.” She pointed at him. “What do you mean ‘yours’?” She stood and started towards him. “I am not Deacon’s, okay? I am without a team. I can go where I want, get drunk when I want, and can dance with whoever I want!”

  “Whomever.” The man corrected calmly.

  “Whatever.” She snapped her fingers at him. “Come on. We’re dancing.”

  Deacon shook his head and tried to pull her back to the bar. “I really don’t think that’s…”

  “Shut up, Deacon!” She pushed him back. “You just sit there and you watch!”

  “As much as I’m sure DeWitt would get off on watching us dance, I really don’t think my wife would like it. And with good behavior, she’ll be out next year.” The man shrugged. “So I’m going to decline.”

  Mia prowled towards him. “If I tell you to dance, you’re going to fucking dance!”

  “Okaaaaay.” Deacon hurried over to pull her away from the man before she could cave in his face. “Probably best not to upset a man who can use his mind to make people’s hearts explode.”

  She flipped the man off over Deacon’s shoulder. “I’m not afraid of him! And the best part: after I kill him, I get to spend more time with Sara! That girl is a fucking delight, and he doesn’t deserve a daughter like that!”

  Deacon returned to his bar stool. “How about we just sit here and calm down for a few seconds, huh?”

  “I am perfectly calm, Deacon.”

  He made an unconvinced sound and motioned to the bartender. “Perhaps you can bring my friend some coffee or something?”

  The man at the table shook his head. “Nah, won’t work. You need to hydrate her and get her to eat a lot of bread.”

  “You shut up, Weston!” Mia shouted at him, her voice sounding slurred. “You’re already on my list!”

  The man put his hands up in surrender.

  Deacon handed her the cup of black coffee, trying to hold back a chuckle. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk before. Frankly, it’s quite charming.”

  She made a face at him and began to sulk. “I’m not drunk; I just hate people.”

  “Ah, the official motto of this place.” He leaned against the bar, staring at her in amused wonder. “I should again warn you about how starting an argument with someone whose super-powers are better than yours is never a good idea.”

  She rolled her eyes and took a long gulp of her coffee. “Jesus, you’re like an old dog with a bone, you know that?”

  “No, he’s over there.” Deacon pointed to the old man in question, who was dressed like a basset hound.

  Mia turned on her bar stool to get a better look, then frowned at the woman standing next to him. “Is that a new ‘Trick’?”

  Deacon nodded. “Yeah, I think so. The last one was blonde.”

  Mia squinted at the woman and made an astonished sound, finishing off her coffee. “Good lord, she’s even younger than the last one.”

  “Third one this year.” He refilled her mug with more coffee. “Hell, she’s younger than you.”

  She pushed at him, almost knocking him off the stool. “Shut up, Deacon.”

  He carefully added sugar to her drink. “You’re getting to be old news, Mia. You know, they say this business is like living in dog years. You can’t play the game for very long…”

  “Shut up, Deacon!”

  He smirked smugly. “Don’t worry. One day, we’ll both be in the retirement castle side by side.”

  “I’d live on the street before I moved into the room next to yours.” She yanked her mug away from him and took a long swallow. “You’d steal my Jell-O every day.”

  He smiled and laughed, agreeing with the prediction.

  Asshole.

  “You know what your problem is, Mia?”

  She rolled her eyes, already knowing what his answer was going to be. “Let me guess: that I’m not sleeping with you?”

  “Yet.” He added with a flirtatious wink. “And besides, we totally did sleep together already.”

  She snorted. “When?”

  “In the mountains that time. You and me. In a tent. Sharing a sleeping bag.” He nodded to himself. “It was all very romantic.”

  “Oh, yeah.” She took another sip of her drink. “You were one suave ten year old, alright.” She rolled her eyes again. “And we shared a sleeping bag because there was four feet of snow that night, and we couldn’t go to a hotel because your dad blew up Fort Knox with that laser, and we were on the run.”

  “You remember it your way, and I’ll remember it mine, thank you.” He helped himself to some bar peanuts. “But no. I mean your other problem.”

  “Wow, I didn’t know I had so many. I’m glad you’re here to keep a list of them for me.”

  “Everyone should be glad I’m here.” He pointed at her. “Your problem is that you’re always doing nice things for people, and you never think about yourself.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not true.”

  “Yep.” He chewed on a handful of nuts. “Absolutely true. Think about it: you’re always so concerned about what your mom wants you to do, and you’re always worrying about the strangest things…”

  “Like the people who live in the buildings you’re indiscriminately blowing up?” she asked.

  He ignored the question. “Hell, you buy Girl Scout cookies!”

  “So do you!” she shot back.

  He shook his head. “Yeah, but I don’t pay for them, Mia.” He sounded like she was just confused about how the world worked. “The little girls have tiny legs, Mia.” He carefully explained. “They can’t possibly catch you if you run away with the cookies without paying.”

  Her eyes narrowed at him in annoyed disgust. “You’re a monster, you know that?”

  “Yep.” He nodded. “I’m a villain. I do bad and selfish things. It's kinda the point.” He waved a hand at her. “But you, on the other hand, have always had the most adorably peculiar habit of trying to watch out for the little guy. You’re always trying to get total losers hired onto respectable villain teams, even though they obviously belong with the dregs, and even you realize it. And no matter how many times it blows up in all our faces, you keep plugging away at it because you always think you’re right.”

  “If you’re questioning my villainous abilities, I will show you how to…�
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  He cut her off before she could finish her challenge. “No, no. I have no doubt you could execute any evil scheme you put your mind to. I’m saying you don’t want to do evil things other than meddling. That's why you’ve never bothered to join up with a team yourself.”

  “I’m plenty evil.” she snapped in a voice that didn’t even convince herself.

  He chuckled like he found her amusing. “Sure you are.” He ate another handful of peanuts. “So your eternal and everlasting menace notwithstanding, I suppose the question becomes: what do you want to do?” He met her eyes. “I’ve watched you your whole life, Mia. You always do what people want you to do for them. What do you want to do for yourself?”

  “I want you to shut up and leave me alone.”

  He kept staring like he could see through her.

  Dammit.

  She finished off her drink in one long gulp. “I want to be part of a team that I can be proud of. I want people to look at me and not think that I’m a disappointment to my family name. I want to put someone on the team of their dreams, even though I have no desire to ever join one myself. I want…” She trailed off. “I have no goddamn idea, actually.”

  “Okay.” He nodded seriously. “We can work with this. Don’t worry.”

  She made an unconvinced sound. “Yeah, I’m sure relieved that you’re on the job, Deacon.”

  “Join up with me.” He blurted out unexpectedly.

  She stared at him in surprise. “Huh?”

  He leaned closer to her. “Come be part of my team, Mia.”

  She snorted in dismissal again. “I don’t think I’d really fit in on your team, Deacon. I’ve never been arrested for punching the mayor’s ninety-two year old mother.”

  “She started it,” he instantly reminded her. “Her behavior was entirely out of control.”

  She nodded humoringly. “Yeah, I remember your testimony at trial.”

  He made a face, then returned to the topic at hand. “I’m being serious here, Mia.”

  “Well, that was certainly a feat which the judge hearing the case could never manage. She was giggling through your entire version of the event in question. Almost like she didn’t believe you or something.”