*~*~*
Marco doesn't see K2 for over a week. He's all over the news, though, zipping this way and that on his never-ending quest to fight Marrowport crime. News outlets make much of the increase in super-villain activity, citing everything from the cold weather to the economy as factors.
"Do you think there's too much crime in this city?" Marco asks at some point after lunch.
The client drops the towel she'd been inspecting. "It's Marrowport," she says simply.
Alice is working a later shift, so he leaves without her. In light of his recent troubles with Marrowport's Guild of Chaos, Marco has taken to walking home a different way every evening. He's on one of the quieter side streets when the tranquility is interrupted.
A blue-white comet sails into one of the apartment buildings, shattering some of the foundation. Marco is struck still, gaping, as the bricks bury the glowing lump. Then he realizes it isn't just any lump.
"K2!" Marco breaks into a run, keeping an eye out for Slashia, Tempo, or Negative Space. No one is around, so he drops to his knees and starts digging K2 out of the bricks.
His glow has faded, and he looks like he's seen better days. There's a bruise on one cheek and a cut on his chin. His armor is covered in dust. Marco has to help him sit up.
"What happened?"
K2 coughs, and then winces when it rattles his ribcage. "Marco? What are—you need to get out of here."
Marco doesn't budge. K2 doesn’t look like he can be trusted to walk in a straight line, let alone take on a super-villain. "Are you okay? Who are you fighting?"
"Boulder Dash," K2 says, trying to stand. He doesn't get very far. "He's made of rock and he runs like a freight train."
"How did he get out of prison?"
"Isn't that always the question?" K2 asks dryly. "Get out of here."
"SPARKLES!" Marco feels the shout like a physical blow. He looks up. Atop the roof across the street is Boulder Dash. He's naked, if a man encased in rock can be considered naked. His face retains the vague approximations of a human one, but he is a sentient boulder through and through. "WHERE'D YOU GO? WE WEREN'T FINISHED."
Marco winces. "Does he always talk like that?"
"Unfortunately, yes." K2 makes it to his knees, but still looks sore.
Marco puts himself between K2 and Boulder Dash. "Shouldn't you be decorating someone's garden?"
Boulder Dash needs a second to compose himself. "WHO ARE YOU? AND WHAT KIND OF COSTUME IS THAT, LAME CHIC?"
Marco rolls his eyes. "Are you seriously giving me fashion advice? You're not even wearing pants."
Boulder Dash leaps from the building, landing hard and making a crater in the sidewalk. "YOU GOT A NICE BIG MOUTH. I'M GONNA ENJOY SHUTTING IT." Then he drags his foot against the ground, a bull preparing to charge.
Marco is prepared to run like the wind. He'll run for as long as he needs to until K2 is on his feet. Turns out this isn't necessary; K2 zips in front of Marco, fully charged and fully loaded. With a frightening roar, K2 raises his hands and fires.
The star-bolts—no, it's a beam. It's a thick, solid bar of cosmic light coming from K2's hands. The sheer force of it nearly blows Marco away. He has to duck down to the ground, covering his eyes against the brightness. Marco peeks out from behind his arms, watching K2 empty his power right in Boulder Dash's face.
When it's over, Boulder Dash is a blackened mess. With a throaty groan, he hits the sidewalk, sending a rumble across the ground. K2 collapses as well, falling to his knees in the street. When Marco reaches him, he's panting heavily while calling the police for a pick-up.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demands once his communicator is shut off. "You could have been hurt."
"You were hurt," Marco says, reaching out. "Where did he get you? Show me."
K2 shies away from his touch. "I'm fine." He stands on his own, but every movement makes him wince.
"You're exhausted," Marco concludes quietly. He tries to touch K2 again, and this time K2 lets him. Marco can feel the tension in his shoulder. "It's been non-stop, hasn't it? What I've caught on the news is only half of it."
He expects K2 to argue, to deny it, but he only sags and sighs. "I don't know what's going on. Ava told me this city was active, but she can't have been doing this all by herself for so long. Boulder Dash broke out of prison and ambushed me on patrol."
Marco blinks. "He came specifically to find you?"
"And beat the stuffing out of me," K2 adds. He rotates his free arm with a groan. "I know they're planning something, but I'm stretched too thin to find out what it is. And I can't let them rampage while I figure it out, either." He rubs his face, sounding hopeless. "I need help."
"Let me," Marco insists. After all K2 has done for him, he wants a chance to repay him. "There are a few Guild members I wouldn't mind seeing behind bars."
K2 shakes his head. "Marco, I can't. It's too dangerous."
"So is playing Chicken with a man made of rocks, but I was prepared to do that. I'll get Alice to send me a list of all the disturbances lately. She loves keeping track of that stuff."
"Marco—"
"I won't even have to leave my apartment for this, relax. If I find anything, I'll text you." He raises an eyebrow. "The number you used to text me is still good, right?"
K2 nods. "It's the number other superheroes use for me, too." In the distance, sirens are wailing. The police are on their way. "Want a ride home?"
Marco grins. "Sure."
*~*~*
Alice gets him the information fairly quickly. "Sending it now," she says, sounding giddy. "I can't believe you're dating a superhero."
Marco rolls his eyes. "We're not dating. I'm just helping him out. After all the times he's saved me, it's a way to pay him back. How do you get this stuff, anyway?"
"Uh, the Internet?"
Marco spends most of the night and the following morning poring over the data. It's mostly lists of robberies, disturbances, and parties involved. Marco's eyes widen as he reads the list of stolen goods. He doesn't recognize most of the names, but these are some pretty dangerous chemicals.
Then he notices something else: every time the Guild of Chaos threw down with K2 somewhere downtown, someplace else was robbed. It's an obvious diversion, but now that he has a list of things that were stolen, everything looks worse. He texts his findings to K2, and receives a reply almost immediately.
I'll start looking into it, thanks.
And then Marco realizes he's late for work. He shuts off his laptop, grabs his keys, and flies out the door.
*~*~*
The day passes by fairly normally considering he just spent part of his day attempting to thwart evil. He deals with the same number of disgruntled clients and takes the same amount of verbal abuse. He wonders what K2 does for a living, and if he ever feels grossly under-appreciated.
He finishes half an hour before Alice, so he goes to Moondollars to get them both a coffee. It's not very busy, so he walks right up to the register. Both baristas look bored in their dark hats and blue aprons, and the one with the chocolate brown eyes punches in the latte and black coffee, scrawling "Marco" and "Alice" onto the cups.
It's when Marco is wedging the cups into the tray that he realizes the sleeve is hiding something. He pulls out his latte and tugs the sleeve down, revealing that it actually doesn't say his name. It says "I want it."
"Oh my god." He says it so quietly, it may as well have been a whisper. He twists back around. The barista with the chocolate brown eyes is standing by the espresso machine, gripping a black marker too tightly. "You. You," he says more loudly. "Take a break. Now."
The barista—K2—looks hesitant. "Um, is there a problem?" he asks in a rich Greek accent.
"Now," Marco growls, giving him a stern look.
K2 winces but nods, leaning over to say something to his co-worker. She shrugs, taking the marker and waving him away. He gestures for Marco to follow him, and they walk through the stockroom and head out the back.
>
It smells like cold refuse. The alley is dark and home only to fire escapes and garbage bins. K2 shivers, folding his bare arms across his apron.
"Sorry," he offers. "Is this another thing I should not have done?"
Marco shoves him against the door, eliciting a yelp of surprise. He didn't resist, though, so Marco takes it as a good sign and reaches for his baseball cap. He pulls it off, revealing short, mussed black hair. Marco looks at him then, taking in the olive skin, his beautiful eyes, and the familiar mouth.
"Blind luck," he murmurs, fingering the strap of K2's apron.
"Huh?"
"You talked about how you sometimes saved people with blind luck." He feels a smile ghost across his lips. "You ass. You were right across the street the whole time."
"I stop a lot of crime on my lunch hour," K2 says dumbly.
Marco chokes out a laugh. He leans forward, claiming K2's lips in a hungry kiss. K2 makes a desperate sound, hands coming up to claw at Marco's coat. Marco tangles his fingers in K2's soft hair, pushing them closer together.
"Who are you?" Marco asks between kisses, one hand pulling at the knot in K2's apron strings. "Tell me about yourself."
"Hector Cosmatos," he says, unbuttoning Marco's coat. "Twenty-three. Father and half-brother give me a stipend to keep me out of their hair. Spent most of my life taking care of my mother." He gets his hands underneath the coat and around Marco's back. Marco, in turn, pushes the apron aside and slips his fingers up the bright orange V-neck shirt it was hiding. Hector hisses, but Marco draws him further into his warmth.
"God," Marco breathes, dropping a wet kiss against Hector's neck. "You've been right under my nose the whole time. How long have you been serving me coffee?"
"About six months." Hector groans, fingers scratching against Marco's shirt. "I haven't been in Marrowport long. I—"
They're kissing again, rendering Hector incoherent. Marco wants to show him what he's been missing. He wants to strip Hector down and lay him bare. He wants to bend down and blow him right here and now. But he doesn't; if this is Hector's first time, Marco wants to make it special. With tremendous effort, he pulls away.
Once he's gotten some air and blood back to his head, Marco comes back to reality. "Your secret's safe with me," he whispers, touching their foreheads together.
Hector is flushed, rubbing kiss-bruised lips. "Even from Alice?"
"That'll require some careful maneuvering," Marco admits. Alice is smart and knows him too well. He'd managed to deflect her inquiries about his financial situation only because she doesn't have access to his bank account. "But we'll figure something out." He bends down to retrieve Hector's hat. "Any progress on the whole Guild of Chaos thing?"
"They're in the wind," Hector says quietly. "I appreciate the research you did, but until they appear again, I can't know what they plan for all those chemicals." He frowns as he ties his apron once again. "It's frustrating. I've combed through most of the city, but they're keeping me too busy. All I can do is react to them."
"They're purposefully keeping you busy," Marco says. "They're vandalizing property and performing petty robberies to distract you. There must be something we can do."
"We?" Hector asks wryly, quirking an eyebrow. Then he shrugs. "I'll think about it tonight. Whatever they're planning, it can't be good."
"Be careful," Marco says, and then feels silly for doing so.
Hector smiles, though. "I will."
*~*~*
"Can you keep a secret?" Marco asks while he helps re-stock DVDs of Sellmart-approved family films.
Alice raises an eyebrow. "Who am I gonna tell?"
Marco ducks his head, feigning embarrassment. "I had a moment with the Moondollars guy last night."
She eats up the gossip like candy. "The barista? The one who's been eyeballing you for months?"
"Yeah, the one who—wait, what?" He glares at her. "You knew?"
"You could see it from orbit," she says pointedly. "I was wondering if he'd ever work up the nerve to say something."
"He did," Marco says carefully. "I might ask him out."
Alice beams at him, but it quickly morphs into a frown. "What about K2?"
"What about him?" Marco makes a show of rolling his eyes, feigning hopelessness. "Alice, seriously. He's great, but superhero romance never ends well."
"I guess, but—"
"Excuse me!"
Marco and Alice glance over to the electronics department's register. An African-American woman in jeggings and a white sweater is leaning against the counter, twisting a lock of short frizzy hair around her finger. She points over her shoulder with her thumb.
"Can you help me with this TV?"
She's staring right at Marco when she asks, so he gets up. The TV she wants is on special, stacked with others in a display in the middle of the department. He wrestles it awkwardly into her cart and rings her up. She pays with credit, and then purses her lips at him.
"Would you help me get this in my car?"
"Sure," Marco says, because it would take longer to explain that there are employees at the main registers who are ready to do just that. "Back in a minute," he calls to Alice.
She pushes the cart all the way outside. It's dark and brisk, making Marco shiver, but turns out the woman is parked right in front of the store. Her black SUV is running, and as they approach the trunk pops open. Marco goes around to see how much room he has to work with, lifting the lid completely.
Tempo Crescendo is sitting in the trunk, a wicked grin on his face. "Hello. Fancy meeting you here."
What the fuck?! Before Marco can back away, the woman shoves him into the trunk. Tempo grabs him, covering his nose and mouth with a putrid, soaked rag. It smells like it's coated in starter fluid. It smells like…
"Thanks for the help, Orange," the woman says. He hears the trunk slam shut. "Turns out Sellmart stocks ether."
Marco's vision is dimming as the car peels off, tires squealing. The fumes are overpowering. He struggles weakly against Tempo's hold.
"Don't worry," Tempo says, sounding far away. "You're just insurance. We probably won't kill you."
Marco has a retort, but it slips away with his consciousness.
*~*~*
Marco wakes up several times during the ride. He doesn't remember much beyond getting smothered again. When he wakes up for good, he's bound, gagged, and blindfolded. He starts struggling immediately, but it accomplishes very little. The rough rope scratches against his skin.
He hears someone laugh. "The gag was a nice touch," Negative Space says. "I like him better when he isn't talking."
"Dump the car," Slashia orders. Marco finds himself hauled over her shoulder like a carpet. "I'll make sure things are ready."
Marco tries swallowing the fear in his gut, but it's a losing battle. He can't see. He can't speak. He has no idea where he is. They'd said he was "insurance." For K2?
He hears the chime of an elevator. Slashia has to do some maneuvering to get him inside, and she ends up thumping his head against one of the walls. She doesn't apologize. They descend for what seems like ages, until finally the lift comes to a stop.
"And here we are," Slashia says. "Bottom floor: electronics, reservoir access, and nefarious schemes."
Reservoir access? Marco struggles some more, but Slashia just drops him. He hits the cold floor with a muffled grunt. He stays there for a long time, helpless while Slashia putters around. He hears things clinking and clanging. What is she doing?
When the elevator chimes again, it's the only warning Marco gets before someone kicks him in the ribs. It catches him by surprise, sending a sharp jab of pain through his body that makes him yelp.
"Come on, Negs," Tempo says. "Be polite to our guest."
"So sorry, Marco." Negs doesn't sound the least bit sincere. "How rude of me."
"Idiots," Slashia says. "If he's black and blue, Sparkles isn't going to cooperate. Now get him out of the doorway."
It takes both of them to carry
him, and Marco squirms as hard as he can. They deposit him several feet away. To his relief, they remove the blindfold. He finds himself in a large, dimly lit room. Stretching out before him are large vats of water. They are connected via a catwalk that traverses over the top of them, and there are pumps and machinery stationed at each tub.
Marco has never seen anything like this before, but he knows he's looking at the water purification plant. He looks around for Slashia and finds her standing by what looks to be the main computer. She's studying the controls.
"How do you suppose we dump the poison in? Does it have a main tube we can just drain it into?"
"I have no idea," Tempo says. Marco searches the room and finds him fiddling with a giant water bottle. It looks like it’s filled with some kind of concoction. "This doesn't seem like enough to affect the entire city's water supply."
"Don't ask me," Negative says. "I majored in video game design."
Slashia mutters something under her breath. "Well, that's just great. Which one of you wants to explain this to the Boss?"
Tempo clams up. Negative Space says, "Let's just put a tiny bit of poison in each of those vats. Aren't the vats in here just waiting for inspection?"
"Pretty sure that's what the worker said while I was punching him."
"Then that means they'll be inspected by us and sent on their way. Once we approve the water, it will pump back out into the city supply."
Tempo grins. "And by 'approve,' you mean 'poison.'"
Marco tries to squawk in protest. It sounds pathetic even to his own ears. None of his captors are impressed. Slashia marches over to him and bends over. She'd changed into her costume at some point, and the ribbon around her waist brushes the floor.
"Everyone needs money, Orange. Our Boss needs quite a bit; he had a terrible tax return. Don't worry." She pats his head, and he tries to wrench away. "It's a slow-acting poison. There will be enough time to administer the anti-venom once we get our money."
Negative Space appears at her side. "When do we call City Hall?"
"About an hour after the poison is in the system. That should give it enough time to collect some victims. We'll drop the antidote off at the hospital once the money is in Boss's account—unless he changes his mind, that is."
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