Chapter Text
Malevola was hungover, she knew Sonar had gotten into some shit the night before because he hadn’t returned any of her texts, and they were about to be late for their Friday shift with the new dispatcher if his man-bat ass didn’t walk through that door right fucking now. Knocking wasn’t doing the trick, so she resolved to yell instead.
“Rise and shine hon!”
No response.
“Wake the fuck up Victor! Can’t be late again or Blazer’s gonna be on our asses! And not in the fun way you keep fantasizing about.”
A muffled laugh on the other side of the door. Progress.
“This is the last chance you get before I open a portal and pull you through, I know you don’t want to have to clean that shit!”
The door opened. Sonar stepped out in his usual blue suit and navy slacks, tie undone around his neck. Pale pupilless eyes somehow bloodshot.
“You look like shit, babes.” Malevola told him as she reached down to his neck, straightening and tying his tie for him.
He smiled up at her weakly, holding up a travel mug of coffee. She took it happily and gave him a squeeze on the shoulder.
“Cheers for that!” she said, preparing a portal to send them to SDN Torrance’s parking lot.
“Hey Mal…sorry I didn’t see your texts. I uh--”
She cut him off. She was used to the excuses and didn’t have the energy to play along today.
“Are you good now?” she asked.
“Ye-yeah.” He answered meekly.
“Then we can talk about it after the shift. There’s a new guy today we can bully, it’ll cheer ya up!”
His smile grew at her words, and they pushed through the portal together.
--
Malevola dropped her bag off in her locker and turned to the familiar sound of an inhaler being pulled. Visi was looking at a mirror in her own locker, pulling out lip gloss to apply.
“Trying to impress our new dispatcher?” Malevola asked with a wink.
Visi rolled her eyes.
“Ugh, no. Saw him already, hard pass. I’m doing this for me, thank you very much.”
Coupe was nearby, pulling up a boot on the bench between locker rows.
“Invisigal keeping up appearances. A paradox.” She smiled, apparently to herself, before stepping away.
“Yeah, well you’re a pair of dicks!” Visi yelled after her.
Malevola cackled.
“Not your best comeback, girl”, she said as Visi raised a middle finger in her direction, “so this new guy, what’s his deal? Think he used to be a supe?”
Visi looked down, as if that question felt personal in some way. Malevola clocked it but let it go.
“Nah…well whatever he was he’s just some guy now. You can see for yourself if you walk the floor. He’ll be sitting in the cubicle next to that old fuck.” She said as she laced her boots.
Mal opened the mirror to check her own makeup. If she was going to be making a first impression, she wanted to be sure she looked good for it.
Nope, perfect. Even hungover she was hot as hell and she knew it. If she decided to look this loser up he’d remember her more than she’d remember him.
“Let me know what the pot is for quitting day when you find out.” She said as she walked through the door to begin her shift.
“Shit yeah, can’t let Flambae win again. Fucker cheated last time!”
--
The team sat in the ready room in varying levels of boredom.
Sonar wouldn’t stop sniffling, a telltale sign that it had been zero days since a cocaine bender.
Punch Up was doing pushups nonstop, not that there was much length to push up.
Coupe stared at her reflection in each knife, pulling a kerchief out to clean ones that didn’t meet her satisfaction.
Visi sat in one of the corners of the room that she had determined didn’t set off the smoke alarm while she puffed on a cigarette.
Prism was upside down in a chair scrolling some form of social media Malevola had never heard of named plimplom or gloop or some shit, she could never keep up.
Golem was straight vibing, laid so flat he almost looked like a puddle. Out of all the team, she envied his seemingly endless relaxation the most. Maybe it was the gummies, she’d have to find out where he was getting them.
Then there was Flambae, reclining with his hand on his chin, raising it over his mouth every time he spoke. Malevola swore it sounded like there was a whistle to his voice. She was just about to needle him when the public comms sounded.
“Hey team. This is your dispatcher, Robert Robertson. I'm starting my first shift—”
Oh fuck. Robert Robertson?! ROBERT FUCKING ROBERTSON?! No way. Damn. This dude was cooked. Malevola couldn’t even make out the slams because there were so many happening at once, at least until Visi broke through.
“I saw him in his underwear.”
That got Malevola’s attention. Prism’s too apparently.
“He packing much?” she asked.
“No, but he’s got lots of bruises. Which I’m into.” Visi replied with a devilish grin.
Fuck, maybe Malevola would have to see this guy. She was into that too. She didn’t know if her life trade ability gave her some kind of weird kink about pain, or it was just her natural predisposition to get hot under the collar when she saw a nice body covered in bruises, but either way she noticed herself biting at her thumbnail.
She looked around, thankful that every member of the team thought they were the center of the universe and weren’t looking at her. Finally, a loud voice shattered the group’s banter.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”
Ah, Chase. Malevola actually quite liked the old bastard, out of all the normies she’d dealt with at SDN at least he never walked on eggshells around the rest of them.
“Let me remind you! These calls are fucking recorded for training fucking purposes! So, keep the fucking line clear before we send your stupid fucking asses back to whatever fucking cell we pulled your stupid fucking asses out of! Aight?” he shouted.
The chatter slowed to a grumble as Robert took back over. He wouldn’t have daddy to protect him all day though, Malevola was excited to see how long it took for him to break.
The first call was about a lost balloon. Sometimes it embarrassed Malevola that she was on the team that got assigned calls like this, but at least there were zero expectations that came with that. Flambae was sent on this one and although the team all gave him the requisite amount of shit, he was actually probably the best one for the job. There was no way that Robertson knew this, but on top of his natural speed he had a soft spot for kids the rest of the team didn’t necessarily share.
As missions kept going out, Malevola noticed something unsettling. Robertson’s voice. It was too smooth. Low, gravelly, authoritative. The last few dispatchers had all been easy to tune out or mock with their shrill or angry voices. This one though, he sounded like a late night DJ mixed with a drill sergeant. She wondered what it would sound like to hear him give orders in a more intimate setting. Or was he the type who preferred to take orders? She was flexible.
A loud shriek into the public comms pulled her out of that daydream.
“Okay what’s going on with Sonar?” Robert asked.
“Oh, that? Yeah. He kinda randomly turns into a monster sometimes.” She answered in her most conciliatory tone.
“Randomly?” came the incredulous response.
“We're...working on controlling it.” She tried to placate further.
Sonar’s screeches continued over the channel. He wasn’t great at making it easy on her.
“Yeah, it’s um…it’s slow going.” She said, admitting defeat.
There was silence for a moment before she heard a reply on the other end.
“Do you trust he can handle himself when he’s like this?”
That stunned her. Why the fuck did he care what she thought? Who was this guy?
“Yeah, I do.” She said.
“Alright, we can work with that then. Thanks” he replied.
Huh.
--
As the missions ran on, conversation over the comms continued. Malevola was a little surprised that the new dispatcher wasn’t trying to throw his weight around or demanding they shut up and focus.
The team had been talking about what they were up to the night before. Malevola wasn’t in any hurry to talk about what she’d been doing, and she noticed Sonar was in the same boat. Some of the others were excited to tell the story about running into the legendary Mecha Man though, on the night of his press conference where he was announcing an at least temporary retirement.
“Okay, okay, that little shit did not kick my ass.” Flambae protested a bit too loudly, a faint whistle emanating at every “s”.
“He did though”, Coupe countered.
Even Robertson piled on.
“Yeah, I think I heard about that.”
That one had to sting.
Malevola admitted to herself that she was actually impressed despite herself by Mecha Man. Sure, she was pretty confident that during even the worst of her benders she’d be able to kick Flambae’s ass, but a man with no superpowers taking him down wasn’t nothing. That’s what happened when the wrong guy got fucked with after hitting rock bottom.
--
The shift continued, the team was actually performing better than usual today. Flambae was putting out “random” fires, Prism got on that asshole Bone Zone’s dumb radio show and tore him a new one, and Malevola got to scare the shit out of a kid that had robbed some rich SDN client. She was delighted.
Yeah, probably for the best somebody else was sent on that balloon call.
She was starting to regret calling dibs on Monday earlier when the team was placing bets on what day Robert Robertson (still couldn’t believe that was his fucking name) would quit. He seemed like he had at least a few days in him unless Flambae figured out what car he drove.
As the shift was winding down, Sonar’s voice came back over comms.
“Hey Bobby...I hear Willem Vanderstenk needs a security detail...is it cool if I go? I've been wanting to pitch him some stuff I've been working on.”
Ah fuck, bad call.
“Yeah, pretty sure that’s exactly what he’s trying to avoid.” She said, hoping the dispatcher had the common sense to agree.
Sonar pressed however, he always did.
“I’m a high ranking Vanderstenker. It would mean a lot!”
Malevola had seen literal cults with less upsetting names. This was worse than the cocaine. She prayed Robert wouldn’t enable him.
“Sure. Go ahead.”
Fuck.
“Thanks man! You will not regret this.” Sonar said with barely contained glee.
“Oh…well, I didn’t think I would until you said that.” Robert responded.
Malevola called over to Sonar on the private channel.
“Hey babes, are you sure about this?”
“Uh yeah, direct order from dispatch. You heard the Bob!” he replied cheekily.
“Direct order that you basically sucked his dick for.”
“Rude! Look I’ve got this. Maybe this guy’s not so bad after all”, he told her, “now I’m going off comms, I gotta go meet my hero, which we both know always ends well!”
Malevola facepalmed. If and when this went south, she was the one who was going to have to keep him out of drowning his sorrows in a binge. She decided she’d take it up with this new dispatcher personally. Speaking of the honey-voiced devil, here he was with another call for her to take. Somebody else could deal with it.
“Malevola, Coupe, got a lead on a hideout of some art thieves. You two interested in busting some heads?”
Shit. Okay, that actually sounded fun. She decided she could talk with him after this one.
--
After thoroughly kicking some art thief ass, Malevola portaled back to HQ on a mission of her own. Finding this dispatcher and explaining to him how things worked around here. She checked her reflection in her sword, and did a quick fix of her lipstick, one of the thugs got her with a cheap shot to the jaw. She got her lick back and then some though.
Now fully kitted out, Malevola made her way through the dispatcher floor, performing her usual task of ignoring the stares she drew. There was only one person who she wanted staring at her; this bruised baritone stranger with a dumbass name that had been telling her what to do all day. Now it was her turn to give an order.
She loved her friend but didn’t want to see him hurt, and this idiot didn’t know him like she did. All she had to do was give Robertson a soft stare, maybe run her tail over his shoulder, and he’d be a good boy from then on. When she made her way to his desk, however, she noticed he wasn’t there.
Chase was in the next cubicle though, and he pulled his headset down when he noticed her.
“What the fuck you doing up here in the bullpen devil girl? Do I need to start carrying holy water at my desk?” he asked.
She bared her fangs at him.
“Demon-girl, dick. At least get it right if you’re gonna be supernatural-racist”, she laughed, “where’s the new guy? He just a disembodied voice or what?”
Chase laughed back.
“Nah, he’s fuckin’ skin and bones so might as well be these days, but he’s real. He’s in the bathroom tryna get his nose to stop bleeding after Invisibitch popped him.”
“Holy shit dude, really?” she asked, grinning maniacally.
Chase didn’t share her smile.
“Yes, fucking really. You’re all assholes but she’s the worst of you, and you can tell her I said that. Shit I’d tell her I said that if she wasn’t fuckin’ invisible all the time.”
“What happened?” Malevola asked.
“Not that it’s your business but she’s probably gonna give you her side of the story, which is gonna be bullshit, so I might as well give you the right one. She assigned herself to the Granny’s donut call, disregarded all of his orders despite him helping her the whole fucking time with the cameras, then got Granny’s ass fried and let the perp get away. He told her that was bad. She didn’t like it.”
That all added up, unfortunately. Malevola hated to admit that sometimes it felt like everybody was right about the Z-Team. Today they’d been on a hot streak, but then something like this would happen and remind them that they were all a bunch of fuckups.
She looked over to the breakroom and saw her personal favorite fuckup leaving with a huge smile. She sprinted over; Robert Robertson had enough trouble today. She could deal with him on Monday, that was if he made it to Monday after taking a punch on his first day on the job.
“Sonar! How’d Vanderstenk go? You okay?”
“Fuckin’ better than okay, it went great!” he said, walking alongside her as they made their way to the locker rooms.
She was skeptical, Sonar had many bad habits, one of which was falling apart in high pressure situations.
“Really great? You didn’t turn into a bat or tell him you used to eat people or anything like that?” she asked.
“No, I gotta tell you though despite my incredible poker face, I actually was pretty nervous going in.” he said.
The earnestness with which he believed that was adorable.
“So, what happened then?” she asked.
“Uh, I kinda confided in the new dispatcher.”
That brought Malevola’s eyebrows to the ceiling.
“I was spiraling, nerves were getting to me, he was the only person I could talk to so I asked him what I should do.”
“And what did he say?”
“He told me to just be myself.”
Malevola thought her eyebrows couldn’t raise even higher. She was wrong.
“And that worked?”
Sonar squinted at her.
“Hey, fuck you dude!”
She laughed and punched his arm, he laughed back.
“For real, I’m happy for you. He’s not so bad then, huh?”
Sonar shook his head and rubbed his neck.
“Well, he is pretty weird, and he managed to piss Visi off enough to knock him on his ass.”
Malevola had trouble picturing it having not yet seen this mystery dispatcher, but imagined he was adding to his collection of bruises.
“Yeah, I heard about that, did he deserve it?” she asked.
He shrugged.
“I have no idea, was mixing up my coffee and you know how loud that thing is. She really got him though, disappeared, reappeared, bam sucker punch!” he mimed out the action as he spoke.
“He was nice enough to give me a couple free twinks after they exploded in his hands though, that was cool.” He added with a burp.
“Dude, you really gotta stop calling them that.”
She smiled, as far as Fridays go, not the worst one they’d had. Sonar was even in such a good mood that she figured it wasn’t worth bringing up whatever was going on with him the night before. If Robert Robertson decided to swing back around Monday, maybe things would actually start turning around.
Malevola shook away that thought. Why the fuck should she care if he showed up or not?
Catch 22 - Keasbey Nights