"Understood."



The unassuming phone disappeared into an inner jacket pocket. Had he been a lesser man he may have sighed. God did not choose lesser men. Dark eyes surveyed the crowd as Tristin exited the discreet nook he'd found to take the call. No one seemed to take the least notice of him, and for that he was grateful. Those that noticed might ask questions, and questions were dangerous.



He entered the flow of bodies, their voices echoed thousandfold from the hard walls of the subway. Doubtless among them walked the hell spawn, but for that moment they would be safe. They were protected by the will of God.



Through turnstiles and up to street level he allowed himself to simply be pushed along on the tide of bodies, left hand holding his bag firmly against opportunists. His eyes took in every passing person, trying to pick mutants from the crowd, until the street came into view and his attention was turned. He needed somewhere to read. Somewhere people were too self absorbed and rushed to notice a lone man at a table.



Starbucks.



Perfect.



Wick diverged from the current of people and stepped through the doors, immediately assaulted by the smell of cheap coffee. The entirety of Camp Peary had reeked of the stuff. The SUPER HQ reeked of it. The whole CIA was powered by coffee, or so it seemed. He'd never seen half of them eat, and he knew the cigarettes weren't nourishing. At least it was well lit.



Agent Wick made it to the front of the queue having already spotted an empty corner table. He locked eyes with the cool eyed blonde behind the counter. He'd thought about not ordering a drink, but no one went to Starbucks for the food. It would draw attention. "One cappuccino and a blueberry bagel with cream cheese please." His tone did not imply the please was anything more than good manners. Then again, he did look to be working on the weekend.

Another day, another dollar. At least when Raine got home, her clothes and hair smelled divine. That had not been the case when she'd been working as a waiter at the Golden Eggroll. Somehow the smell of sweat and Chinese food mingled into a unique aroma that had inspired the blonde to swear off rice-based take out food. Her waistline thanked her.

"Hi! Welcome to Starbucks! Can I get a Double Shot Marshmallow Latte started for you today?"

The line was moving at a fair clip. That's what happened most mornings when they were properly staffed.

Raine wouldn't have been able to pick the guy out of a crowd before he stepped up to the front of the line, but before she was able to chirrup out her product pushing statement something odd happened: A phone fell from the ceiling down into the barista's metal quart of steamed milk. Both the barista and Raine squealed and jumped back from a dousing of hot liquid, but the point of sale machine wasn't as agile.

Raine, for one, was doubly surprised. Her power didn't fail. It just... didn't. And she certainly hadn't shut it off. She'd stuck her friend's phone up to the ceiling as a silly April Fool's Day joke. It wouldn't have harmed anything if it'd stayed where it was supposed to.

She also stupidly stepped right back up to the coffee machine and stuck her hand in after the phone. She had to make it right! Her work friend would never forgive her prank if it ended poorly for only the phone.

The cell got tossed onto a waiting bar towel and after some amount of apologizing for a poorly executed prank, Raine swapped out her position in order to take a quick break with her hand beneath the cold running water of the faucet.

The replacement barista smiled and took the waiting patron's order: cappuccino and a bagel.

Did her power just... stop? It wasn't like she could test that in the here and now. Raine looked up at the ceiling tiles as if they held some answers.

"That'll be $42.50, please."

Oh, geez. What had he ordered, again?

Agent Wick watched the whole ordeal with interest, though his face never received the memo. It was not every day phones fell from the ceiling. His eyes flicked between the pair. The blonde was either feeling guilty, or simply faster witted than her colleague, the way she went after the phone; Or perhaps her friend simply had more sense that to shove an unprotected hand into steamed milk.

Ah no, the guilt. There was the apology. Apparently this was prank related. He didn't get all of it in the noise of the store, but he caught enough. Apparently that had been some kind of prank. Perhaps the device had been taped to the ceiling. Perhaps the girl was more than she seemed. His eyes searched her as she went to soother her burned hand. No obvious signs of the beast. It was rarely obvious, that was the hallmark of the devil. He would keep her under suspicion. Her confusion counted against her.

"That'll be $42.50, please."

Wick turned his eyes back to the barista, who did well to suppress the flinch he saw in their eyes. This one could be so much closer to damnation than they knew. It was almost sad. "I believe you're mistaken. One cappuccino and one blueberry bagel, with cream cheese." Which did not cost forty two dollars and fifty. Not even after the tip they would not be receiving. They could consider it payment towards the dry-cleaning to remove the milk spots from his jacket sleeve. Wick wiped the milk deliberately with a napkin while the barista double checked the screen.

"Sorry sir, $7.25, the milk must have pressed something."

It pressed his patience. The agent nodded and retrieved his wallet from his jacket inner pocket. It was a movement that took great care not to open his jacket any further than absolutely necessary, with a casualness that came with an every day motion. He payed with cash. It was safer, less traceable. You didn't do the Lord's work, and the country's, without earning a few enemies. Wick's cool voice offered an unemotive "Thank you." as he accepted his change. He took his bagel and coffee from the replacement barista and made his way over to the corner table he'd scouted out.

Tristin sat and retrieved a notebook laptop from his bag and placed it on the table, facing it into the corner. It powered up, and he connected to the wifi. He opened an unassuming program that brought up what, to the world, may as well have been the command window. The rest was muscle memory. He didn't look at the screen while he typed, instead he watched the blonde through his eyebrows. His eyes flicked down just long enough to see a file download and decryption had begun.

A bite was taken from his bagel. The foul, bitter liquid remained untouched. A dossier opened on the screen. If we was going to be babysitting, he wanted to be forewarned of the thing's abilities. Running in the background, ready to open at a moment's notice, bookface pinged.

"--And you turned it off?" She was majorly concerned. Her budget did not include a new iphone, no matter how much she liked Darla.

"Yeah. I mean, I'm worried, but I called Gaspard from the office phone and he went to the bodega for rice. Like dropped everything and he'll be here any minute." She looked excited. This could still work out okay for Raine provided that Gaspard came through.

"What happened to... uh. The one with the long-ish beard?" Raine inspected her hand. The entire thing was pink and the skin felt tight, but she wasn't red or blistered. She made sure the wash the metal milk foaming cannister and put it in the sanitizer in back while she endured the tail of what's-his-face with an understanding smile.

"So what kind of tape was that? Sure as **** didn't do its job."

"Electrical." The lie was smooth and she'd been the one to clean the canister. Her power had never failed before. As far as Raine knew, she could stick stuff to the ceiling all day long... except today.

"Ugh. No wonder. That stuff's not meant to hold to surfaces like those ceiling tiles. Where is your brain at?"

She smiled apologetically, ready to play the fool in order to escape her co-worker's ire. What she wasn't ready to do was forgive and forget the guy who'd walked up to the till when it'd happened. Only, she couldn't remember his eyes. Or what he'd been wearing. Or anything beyond his total lack of affectation in his voice. Her drama coach would have touted Hermione, 'You have the emotional range of a teaspoon.'

If he'd sounded even remotely like a human being, Raine wouldn't have been bothered in the least. It was the complete lack of humanity that made the guy so... ew.

She hopped in to cover drink making since her POS position was already covered. That gave her the chance to look out at the floor every once in awhile. She spotted him. She observed between mixing, steaming, and pumping flavor additives.

He didn't touch his drink.

"Hey, I'm going to go apologize to that guy again. He's still in the lobby." It was an easy enough excuse once the line had been processed and rush had died down.

Raine washed her hands and approached with caution. What? Like he was going to bite her or something? He was just tapping away at his laptop like so many other patrons were. It's just... he set her on edge for whatever reason.

"Hey, is there something wrong with your drink? I can replace it if it's gone cold. Or we also have Fizzy Izzy, organic milk, or bottled water if that's more to your liking." Maybe he hadn't seen the array of refrigerated drinks?

When no new evidence presented itself, Wick turned back to the screen. Delta Seven. He read the dossier swiftly, committing the relevant information to memory. It wasn't the longest file, but it certainly gave him pause. By all accounts, this one was a child. It was an uncomfortable at the best of times, dealing with the young ones. It was the only time his conscience tickled at his thoughts.

No, God did not spare the children of Egypt, he would not spare the young satan-spawn. This one looked like it could be trouble, and tricky to identify. No comment on how it responded to Kappas either. That would have been useful. He had no idea if he would need to keep his distance in operations, or if he could easily identify it once he tracked it down. He would add that to the file later. He minimised the window and started a new file. He looked up to search for his subject only to see her practically already at his table.

>>"Hey, is there something wrong with your drink? I can replace it if it's gone cold. Or we also have Fizzy Izzy, organic milk, or bottled water if that's more to your liking."

Wick blinked slowly, alt-esc hit in a casual reflexive motion. He looked down to the coffee that sat untouched, then back to the girl. "Nothing wrong. I was simply distracted." He'd never had to make an excuse for an untouched coffee before. Normally people forgot him the minute he was out of sight. "Please don't trouble yourself." There was no way she'd reveal her true nature around him. She couldn't. Such was the nature of his divine gift. Still, it would give him time to start noting her features for the Agency.

"Actually miss..." Wick's eyes flicked to the name tag, but left the gap in hopes of a last name, "I think I could use something calming. Do you have anything you recommend?" A polite, apologetic smile touched the corners of his mouth, nowhere near his eyes or voice. It hovered around only as long as necessary.

Distracted. Oh. That made total sense considering the laptop. Raine's customer service smile stayed in place despite her feeling a little foolish. It was such a normal thing. Why had she jumped straight to suspicion? "Oh no. Happens to the best of us. I'll let you get back to it then." She put a little extra cheer into her voice so that he would know that it wasn't any trouble.

Now that she was out here, she could see that the morning rush had left things in disarray.
Raine went to straighten a chair and remove an abandoned newspaper from a nearby table. She was using her hand towel to wipe down the surface when that little bit of extra honey payed off.

> "Actually miss..."

Ah. Begging a freebie? They were always trying to wriggle their way into free drinks. Well! The joke was on him then because tea was the easiest and fastest and cheapest handout they could offer. The cup and lid cost them more.

"Raine." She helpfully tapped the glitter smile sticker on her nametag which he was already eyeing when she turned around with trash in hand.

"Chamomile is supposed to be pretty soothing. No caffeine." She wasn't sure if his tight control was because he needed more caffeine or because he was just being careful. His eyes seemed too aware for him to be slow mentally, but he'd earned her pity either way since they'd dumped hot milk on his suit. "Can I take your old cup and replace it for you?"

She held out her hand for his cup still smiling. What was one more bit of trash?

Raine, yes, he was capable of reading. People under suspicion of being devil-kin had no business being smart with him. Wick nodded acknowledgement. "Raine." He couldn't decide if the girl was stupid, or too smart for her own good. It was certainly a good act if the latter were true. He would make note of his suspicion on the matter. If she was faking him she could prove a valuable asset for the Agency. He would earmark her for suitability surveillance.

"Chamomile, yes that would be lovely." He couldn't imagine the tea in a Starbucks being anything even approaching lovely. Still, she was paying far too much attention to him, and despite wanting to get a good description of her, the more she interacted with him the more she would remember him. The whole ordeal with the phone was bad enough, that was the sort of thing that stuck in people's heads.

>>"Can I take your old cup and replace it for you?"

Raine extended a hand towards him. Wick looked at it for a brief moment. How hard could picking a cup up possibly be? Making a point of it would simply draw more attention however. His hand came away from the keyboard and lifted the cup to meet the blonde's extended hand. "Yes, please. I don't think I should have any more coffee this morning." He went so far as to affect a jitter as he lifted the coffee to the girl's hand, eyes locked with hers. He doubted she would notice how steady his hands had been as they'd been speaking. People never noticed the small things. Small things like pierced ears and piercing blue eyes. Small things like the lack of sticky residue on the offered hand.

There was nothing wrong with what he said. There was just something wrong with the way he said it. And even that she couldn't pin down to any one thing.

"Yeah you seem wound pretty tight," she joked off the cuff and then died a little inside when her caffeine joke hit a little too close to home. That was it. That was it exactly. If there was spring tension inside the man, it was coiled tight.

"Chamomile coming right up."

She accepted the cool coffee and beat a hasty retreat. The cup was completely full. She frowned and watched it swill down the drain.

"Ring up a tea comp?" An idea blossomed as Raine fished a tea bag from the airtight canister. She was very careful with the hot water, the lid, and the plug to stopper the drinking hole. She was also careful to affix one end of a gravity pull to the cup.

"Here you are!" She chirruped, quite recovered. "On the house. Enjoy the rest of your day, sir."

The other end of the tether, Raine held ready in her hand as she flounced back behind the counter to finish stocking and cleaning for the eventual upcoming shift change.

Well of course, she had washed her hands at least once while he'd been watching her. If the adhesive couldn't hold a phone to a ceiling it likely couldn't hold up to soap. It did her case no favours however. He'd put it in his report anyway. Perhaps he was missing a detail someone else would see.

He refused to react to her joke. The agent simply turned back to his screen as Raine excused herself to bring him a new drink. The fresh document was re-opened and Wick went back to typing, casting an occasional glance over at the girl, noting her figure and how she carried herself. By the time she was coming back he had everything he could gather without her making some new move.

"Here you are!" The girl spouted all too cheerfully. It almost seemed genuine, which was doubly sickening. "On the house. Enjoy the rest of your day, sir."

Tristin gave another wan smile, hoping it might dissuade her interest in him. "Thank you again. It should be just the thing to help me unwind." What he really needed was for Raine to forget he was even there. Go back to her usual way. That was when people slipped. When they were comfortable. Wick could already tell he was ruining that. Normally he'd feel some satisfaction at that, but it was simply getting in the way.

The girl's flouncing did her no good with Wick. God had blessed him with an immunity to such sins of the flesh. It simply made him more suspicious. He added it to his notes. Potentially attempting to lead him into sin and temptation. She warranted further investigation. He would have to see where she went after work. An address would greatly help the surveillance.

Raine went about her business, careful not to touch the palm of her hand where she held a tether ready. She would give the beady little man a moment to savor the warmth of his drink before she April Fool's'd it all over him. He would have no one to blame besides himself unless he knew about her power, which, no one but her teammates knew her secret identity. She wasn't malicious, per se. Just mischievous and a little petty. She didn't like that he'd unsettled her without doing anything unsettling. That warranted some recourse.

Like tapping her tether-ready hand to her body so that... nothing happened.

Raine tapped herself again.

"Gaspard!" Darla was half over the counter when a hunky chunk of man tapped the window and waggled a bag of rice. "Raine, sweety. Cover me." She opened her mouth to ask how long she'd be gone, but there was no way she could say no considering the morning's events.

Was her power on the fritz?

The electronic bell signaled Darla's escape and a lazy morning active-wear mom walked in with children in tow.

Ugh. It was going to be one of those days wasn't it?

Raine smiled.

"Hi! Welcome to Starbucks! Can I get a Double Shot Marshmallow Latte started for you today?"

It was with no small amount of resignation that Wick drank the tea. It tasted floral and hot, which he supposed was better than the coffee was ever going to taste. Still, it was from Starbucks. He drank just enough to keep blending in while his preliminary report was finished, encrypted, and sent to the Agency. Then he examined his options. He could sit there all day and follow her when she left, but she had already marked him. That also meant sitting surrounded by the putrid smell of coffee, and having to order more drinks. The upshot was that he would be able to monitor her better, and maintain internet access. There were a few other dossiers he wouldn't mind a refresher on. 

He could also do that at Headquarters, but that would mean not getting an address to attach to the girl's profile. It also wouldn't spare him the coffee smell, it would simply be stale there, which was arguably worse. Perhaps he could take a trip to the range. No, he needed the address. A compromise may well be in order. Perhaps he could watch from a nearby store. One of those book store / cafe set ups would work well. Full of young men in dire need of a razor and the young women they thought their facial hair impressed. Still, it would be quiet.

It would be a risk hoping to find a place, however. Once he left he couldn't return too soon without attracting attention and suspicion. He couldn't simply stand in the street either. As good at blending in as he was, people would notice that eventually. The retail assistants with nothing better to do. They would want to know why he was loitering. Perhaps they would call the police. That wouldn't be a huge issue, he did have his badge, but it was a little too exposing for his liking.

A quick search told him the nearest suitable location was over a block away. Absolutely useless for a one man stake out. He double checked, but it didn't help. The agent gave his drink a good long look. It was for the good of the country. He could do it.

It would just be one of those days.

Darla never did come back. In fact, by the time her and Darla's replacements arrived, it was well past time to clock out and Raine had lost a bit of her shine. Her unexpectedly extended shift left her spread thin for the lunch rush with hurting feet.

Raine checked the time after she finished blending a crappachino and clocked out. Great. Now she was going to be late for her psych lecture— which meant she may as well not go at all. The teacher locked the door at the beginning of every class. That's what happened when so many, like Raine, did not respect the lecturer's time.

Raine smiled and high fived the other barista who had stuck out the slim shift with her as they exited the building together. Could she spare the cash for a cab? Uh. Not with rent due in 2 days. The blonde fretted on the sidewalk while she worked through her indecision.

Did she dare?

Raine checked her phone’s map while chewing on the pad of her finger. As the crow flew… if the buildings were close enough… she ducked away to find a safe place to get into costume.

Moments later Zero, X-man and vigilante hero, ran up the side of a building clad in uniform and domino mask. She wound up her pitch and then zipped to the next nearest building. This was risky with her power behaving so weirdly, but she really didn't want to have to take psychology again.

Wick came to hate Starbucks. The smell, the sounds, the decor, the taste of what they called tea. It was exactly the sort of place he didn't want to have spent several hours sitting, yet there he was. The girl, Raine, had been busy all day. Too busy for any further pranks it seemed. As morning commute had passed into lunch Wick had almost been impressed by her efficiency to operate down a member. He made a note of that in his slowly expanding dossier.

By the time the girl was ready to leave Wick was impatient to follow. She had marked his face earlier however, and that meant he couldn't risk being seen again. He gave it an appropriate head start, then nearly walked into the back of her as she stood indecisively on the sidewalk. The agent quickly turned aside and pretended to be reading the seasonal advertising. In reality he was watching her in the reflection. She moved off on foot, which saved him having to find a taxi to follow her in. The movies made it seem so simple.

Wick slipped through the crowd, just near enough behind her that he could spot her through the crowd. It was  closer than he would have liked, given her height. He had to take care not to jostle people too much, lest the hard grips of the guns under his coat cause someone to accost him.

Eventually the girl slipped down an alley. That offered him far less cover, but it did lessen the chance of someone noticing a weapon quite substantially. He waited several extra beats, then diverted down the dingy backstreet himself, finding a good hiding spot from which to mark the girl's direction. As he peered from the shadow of a dumpster however, it was not just change of direction he saw.

Wick knew his orders. He also knew each of the vigilantes by their stupid costumes. He watched the girl, already halfway through stripping away her work uniform to reveal... Honestly, what sinful comic book had they dredged those freaks from? The agent rested his hand on his tranquilliser pistol, but it was against orders. He would not go against orders. He knew the Agency had their reasons, and he would not undermine them.

The girl was soon bounding up the walls, masked and costumed. Wick noted her direction of travel, and considered following. Unfortunately, he would never be able to keep up and maintain a low profile. Still, he had just been handed one of the X-men's secret identities. That would certainly help the Agency. Help his crusade.

Kappa Five smiled. 

He had some calls to make.