The Mysterious Miss Direction vol. 02

Almost a week has passed since the battle with the Medium Madam. The heat wave has finally broken and you find yourself staring at the clock late on a Friday afternoon at the museum.

It was odd returning to normal life more or less like nothing had happened. Jonas took the rest of the week off, but is set to return on Monday. Occasionally you have heard whispered rumors between co-workers trying to connect the dots of why both Jonas and your father ended up captives of a super villain. Most write it off as mere coincidence, but that doesn’t stop people from gossiping.

There hasn’t yet been time to speak with Fortuna or Bailey. Your meet up with Fortuna is planned for tomorrow night and Bailey has been swamped. The Crowfall PD is even more understaffed than normal as they have to confirm each officer is no longer compelled by the Madam before they can put them back on the job.

You’ve visited your father every day in the hospital but haven’t had time to get in a real one on one discussion. Your mother hasn’t left his side this entire time. He is set to be released today and in an odd bit of coincidental timing, he just so happens to also be his birthday. Patrick and Natalie have planned a whole surprise party for him.

Quitting time finally comes and you head home to change before riding out to your parents' house for the party.

Patrick greets you at the door with a hug and asks, "You remembered to bring the cake right?" He can’t keep a straight face and gives you a shove. "Just messing. Nat’s adding the finishing touches right now. Admit it though, I totally had you going."

It is a small gathering and you appear to be the last to arrive. Patrick, Natalie, yourself, and a handful of old friends. You expect your mother and father to arrive any minute now.

Holly hits Patrick in the chest playfully with her open palm. "Don't scare me like that!" she chides him. "The last thing I need right now is to be the one that ruins dad's coming home party." She shudders at the thought for show, but smiles at her brother. "Come on, I'm late enough as it is," she tells him, pushing past him to get inside. "They should be here any minute, and we need to get into position."

She waves hi to a few people she hasn't seen in a while. Old colleagues from the carnival days, and a few regulars at her dad's pawn shop. All good people who have become or stayed close family friends over the years. Though, it wasn't hard for her father to make friends. He was incredibly charismatic, which is how he so thoroughly charmed her mother.

She all smiles and hushed laughter as she makes sure the cake is ready ("Just got to light the candles!" she was assured), before they turn out all of the lights and wait for the guest of honor. She waits behind the old sofa that smells slightly of cigarette smoke (even though her mother had forbidden her father from smoking inside years ago) while her brother stood guard at the front window as the spotter.

There was still some delighted giggling from the good-natured party goers when Pat gave the signal and they all fell dead silent. She could see the headlights briefly illuminate the window as Pat flattened himself into the corner so as to not be seen. She could hear the doors of the car open, first her mother's, followed by the click of her shoes rushing across the pavement to help her father, and then her father's.

She could hear them walking up the walkway, her mother fusing over her father, and her father urging her to stop with the fussing. She could hear the keys in the lock, and then...

"SURPRISE!!!"

Your mother nearly jumps out of her shoes in shock, but the exaggerated look of surprise on your father’s tells you that he suspected something like this might be coming. He plays it up even further, letting his cane fall to the floor. You, Patrick, and several of his closest friends know what is coming next and it induces a few eye rolls and whispers of "while in a cast?"

Imitating Willy Wonka, his hand opens and closes on thin air where the cane should be. He goes stiff as a board and starts to fall forward into what traditionally would become a somersault and applause. Your mother puts a stop to that. "Oh no you don't!" She grabs him by the collar and stops his momentum before the practiced fall can take place.

"You’re no fun," he pouts before turning to the party and giving everyone a smile. "Thank you. You have no idea how much it means to me to have all of you here." The lights are dimmed and cake brought out. Your father insists on joining in on singing happy birthday to himself. He and Patrick compete to see who can be more loud and obnoxious about it; much to the displeasure of their wives.

While the cake is being cut, Patrick pushes play on an odd mix tape of 80’s pop and carnival music. Everyone starts to spread out, mingle, and enjoy the birthday cake.

Patrick comes over to you and offers a slice. "So how much have you heard about Dad’s whole recovery process? I know you’re real busy, but the docs say he should off his feet as much as possible. You know how his shop hasn't always been the most profitable. The few employees he has have volunteered to work some OT at the normal rate, but Dad isn’t willing to do that. So me and ‘Ma are going to pick up some evening shifts. Natalie is going to be helping out with free physical therapy down at her gym, and thank god. His insurance is terrible. Any chance you can squeeze in a few shifts at the pawn shop until he is back on both feet?"

The party is going great, and it warms her heart to see her dad in such good spirits. She nearly joins in on the Happy Birthday contest, but highly doubts she can be as obnoxious as her father, and certainly not as much as her brother.

She accepts the slice from her brother, but his serious tone concerns her. She takes a deep breath as she pushes her cake back and forth in contemplation with a plastic fork. "I can try. I took on another job recently that takes up my evenings, but I'll try to make some adjustments, and I'll see if I can make it work," she tells him.

Pat looks a little surprised. "Another job? I didn’t hear-- ohhhh wait, you're talking about being a high society art dealer or something, right? Ma mentioned that. I guess you’ll be raking in 7 figures a year and supporting all of us pretty soon, eh?" For the second time tonight, Patrick’s face and tone gets real serious.

"Have you talked to your boss at all? The cops gave us so little information and dad hasn't offered any insight. I don't know if it is memory loss from the ordeal or if he just doesn't want to worry us by talking about what happened.... You’re the only one with access to both of them. You gotta have some idea of why all this happened. Come on, give me the real story?"

Holly shakes her head sadly. "I'm not allowed to say. I had to sign all sorts of papers and whatnot, and even then, I'm not even entirely sure what happened. I figured some things out about some artifacts we had come in, a couple heroes showed up and asked questions, and then a couple hours later, Dad and my boss (museum boss, not new job boss) had been rescued. As well as a bunch of other people I didn't know, but you know, I didn't really care so much about them," she lied.

"That's really all I can say. I don't think Dad is under the same legal restraints, or at least, they haven't gotten to him yet, but promise me you'll give him some time to relax at home before you start peppering him with questions," she requests quietly.

The mention of other heroes peaks Patrick's attention. "Oh dude, you are so lucky. What I wouldn't give to meet Fortuna. She is soooo hot."

"Excuse me?" Patrick's eyes go wide as his wife Natalie steps up next to him. He offers her a coy smile which contrasts her annoyed expression. You excuse yourself from the happy couple and wander back toward the rest of the party as Natalie starts asking if Patrick's infatuation with Fortuna has anything to do with him asking her to dress up in a corset and tri-corner hat the other night...

There is a knock at the front door just as you are walking past. It doesn't seem like anyone else has heard it, so you go to answer. When you pull the door open you are a bit surprised to see Officer Bailey standing there. "Hey, Holly. Good to see you again." For a moment, worry takes over as you question why Bailey is here. Has the Madam escaped? Is your family in danger again? He quickly clears up these worries.

Looking behind you, Bailey sees the party is in full swing and he lowers his head in frustration. "I'm sorry I'm so late. They are keeping me plenty busy these days. I'm not much for social calls, but when your mother invited me I felt that I had to stop by for a little while to at least see how your father is doing." He lowers his voice to a whisper. "Glad to see you are also recovering well."

Holly struggles to contain a snort of laughter at her brother's admittance of being enamored with Fortuna. A struggle she soon loses as Natalie overhears, and she excuses herself to be anywhere but in the middle of that argument. She makes a mental note to never mention her own alter ego to her brother. She doesn't know how she would react if her brother fancied Miss Direction as well. The thought doesn't exactly kill her jovial mood, but it does force her to take a sip of her punch to wash away a bit of the bile rising in her throat.

When Holly opens the door, she wears an expression quite similar to what her brother had only moments ago. The deer-in-headlights look only lasts for a few seconds until Bailey begins to explain. She releases tension in her shoulders that she didn't know she had.

"Don't worry about it, we're all just having a good time, and I'm sure everyone'd be happy to meet you," she tells him with a smile, stepping out of the way to let him come inside. He was still all dressed in his uniform, so he must have come straight from the station. He looked somewhere between run down and dead tired, and it almost hurt to see someone so overworked. "Can you get you something to eat or drink?" she asks, closing the door behind him. "We've already got cake and punch out, but I can make you some coffee if you need a bit of pep in your step."

As he stands by patiently, she whispers to him, "My brother has been asking questions. I've told him that I can't talk about it, legally, but he may try to corner you." She smiles again, glad that the music in the room was loud enough that really only he should have been able to hear it. "If you want, I can grab you some while you meet and greet. I'm sure Mom and Dad would love to know you made it," she offers at full volume again.

Bailey smirks. "I’m not too worried about your brother. He is... fairly easy to distract. No offense." He loosens his tie a little and even that small effort goes a long way to getting his tired muscles to relax. "Coffee sounds great. I’m pretty particular about how I take it, though. Why don’t I help you out?"

He follows you into the kitchen, which is currently empty of party guests. "Black coffee will be fine. I wanted to give you an update while I had you. She stopped mumbling and is responding to outside stimulus. Nothing major, but her eyes are at least tracking light again. Brain activity is... abnormal. Mostly what you would expect of someone in a catatonic state, but every once in a while everything spikes like she is in an intense deep dream. They’re not sure if it's her trying to repair mental damage or something else entirely. Either way, she’s not going to be harming anyone for a long time.

"They got her back inside her old lead lined cell in the Catacombs. Even if she regains full control of her powers, she can’t reach out beyond those walls. So at least there’s that."

Your father walks through the door just as you are handing Bailey his mug of coffee. "Why if it isn’t the honorable Officer Bailey!" Tom walks over and gives Bailey a big handshake. "I heard they're working you to the bone. Thanks for taking the time to come out. It’s really good to see you again." The two men share a long silent look that speaks volumes. They are doing their best to put on an appropriate mask for a surprise birthday party but these two men are exhausted.

Holly tries to get a few words in as she's making his coffee (and one for herself as well, since they were going to be talking business), but Bailey just keeps unloading information on her that takes more than a few moments to digest. It oddly makes her feel better than Lily is making progress. For all the pain and torment the woman caused her, she was still a human being, and Holly wanted nothing to do with having her live out the rest of her days in a vegetative state.

Live out her life in a top security facility, absolutely. But not like she had seen her last, as a convulsing, non-responsive mess.

Just as she sits at the table and hands Bailey his coffee, her father walks in. It also pains her to see just how hard these two men are working to help everyone else, when clearly they are the one's who need the help the most.

"You want to sit for a bit, Dad?" Holly asks from the table. "You should probably be keeping weight off of your foot. How are you feeling, by the way? I feel like I haven't gotten a chance to talk to you, you being swarmed by all of your fans and whatnot," she smirks after the last bit, knowing how her father loved to make a performance out of life, but also that he would scoff at referring to his old friends as fans.

"I hate to admit it, but it is going to be a while before I’m back to 100%. These old bones don’t heal quite as quick as they used to. Did I ever tell you about the time I messed up the catch a bullet with your teeth trick? So here I was--" you’ve heard the story a million times but don’t interrupt him. When he finishes telling it again, Tom gives you a smile and closes his hand over yours.

"Thanks for looking out for me, Holly. I am not going to pretend that I don’t like being the center of attention, but I think everyone can do just fine without me for a little bit." He turns to Bailey. "You got kids, Bailey?"

He shakes his head no and sips on his coffee. "Wife wants me behind a desk before she’ll even consider it. So I’m still a few promotions away from changing diapers."

"That’s too bad. You’re going to love being a father. Sure, you constantly feel like you’re screwing up everything for the first two decades or so, but then one day you realize that maybe you didn’t do such a bad job. At least with this one. Jury is still out on Patrick," he jokes.

Holly tries not to roll her eyes when her father starts telling his stories. Its not like she hadn't heard them all a million times over during her youth, but she couldn't help but feel that same mysticism fall over her as he weaved his tale. She smiles at him as he finishes, and finally remembers she has her own cup of coffee when Bailey takes a sip from his.

"Smart," she comments at Bailey's wife's stipulations.

She smiles at her father's sentiment, not just his round about way of saying he was proud of her, but also his assessment of Patrick.

"I don't know about that one, Dad. Pat's got a few things going for him that I haven't managed yet. The whole house, car, and spouse thing just isn't in the cards for me it seems," she argues around her mug, holding it in front of her face to both enjoy the aroma and hide her smile.

Your father waves off your comments. "What have I always told you kids? Life isn’t a competition to see who can accumulate the most toys. It is about experiences. You're smack dab in the middle of the perfect time in your life to be experiencing countless new and exciting things. You know I love Patrick just as much as I love you, but that boy would be satisfied spending every night playing cards or watching television.

"You have no idea how much I envy you right now, Holly. This would is full of great adventures for those that are willing to take bold chances. Don’t rush into obtaining what society says you should and end up missing out on some truly exciting and unique experiences."

Bailey smiles at this and offers up his mug of coffee for a ‘cheers.’ "He’s certainly right about that. Just don’t do anything too crazy. I don’t want to have to put you in a holding cell one of these days."

Your father playfully smacks the side of his head. "I can't believe I keep forgetting!" He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the playing card you left for him as Miss Direction. He slides it across the table to you. "Pretty cool, right? It's a shame that I was all mind controlled through the whole superhero battle, but at least I got this souvenir for you.

"I really missed my calling, I think. Back when I was your age the villains weren’t so powerful. Instead of traveling with the carnival I should have added a mask to my magician costume and taken to fighting crime. That would have been a real adventure." His face gets real serious for a minute. "Not that I’m saying you should go out and fight crime, Holly. I don’t know if my heart could take the worry."

Holly shakes her head and smiles into her coffee as her dad talks about life experiences and whatnot. She even shoots Bailey a playful glare for taking her father's side in the discussion, but when her father presents her with the card, she's caught a little off guard.

Luckily, she's able to hide her shock at forgetting that she'd given her father that card.

Not so luckily, she does so by choking on her coffee mid-sip and sending herself into a coughing fit. When its clear that she isn't in any real danger of asphyxiation and her father delivers his warning, her coughs turn into strangled laughter.

"Come one, Dad! I almost lost a fight with a cup of coffee," she jests, "I wouldn't last one day fighting crime." She looks more closely at the card, now that her eyes weren't watering so much, and smiles. "Aww, thanks, Dad." She wraps Tom in a quick hug and sits back down, turning the card over to examine it. Not like she didn't know every intricate line on its back, or the unique designs on its face. Still had to keep up appearances.

"You know," she muses. "I know she's a pretty recent addition to the hero line-up, but doesn't seem a bit cliche to hand out autographs at a crime scene?"

"Just once I wish someone would ask for my autograph at a crime scene," Bailey jokes. It gets a good laugh out of Tom.

"Nothing wrong with being cliche," your father responds. "It’s just another word for classic. Now if she were to start wearing endorsements on his costume, that’d be going too far."

The three of you talk and joke around for a few more minutes before some of Tom’s friends come in pestering him to tell another old story everyone has heard a million times. "Sorry dear, I can’t keep my fans waiting." They all head back into the living room, leaving you alone with Bailey.

"Do you ever think about telling them?" Bailey asks. "I know he says he’d be worried, but he would be plenty proud too. Might not hurt to have someone to talk to about all the stress that comes with the lifestyle. I may not know exactly what you’re going through, but if you ever need to unload, you know where to find me."

Holly laughs and jests with her father until he leaves the room. It takes only a few short moments for her exhaustion to start to come out as well. She practically melts into her coffee as she nods along to Bailey's question.

"Several times. Every single time, the answer has been a resounding no." She rubs her hands over her face for a second, before continuing. "As much they worry about me, I worry about them too. And, knowing my father, my secret identity would not stay secret for long. He loves telling stories too much to be able to keep secrets." She huffs out a laugh ands idly begins flipping the card through her fingers, weaving it delicately along its path with the skill of a practiced magician. A skill she'd learned from her father that had translated rather nicely into her heroic persona.

"I may take you up on that, though. I want to make sure, especially after my run in with Madam, that few people know of my secret life." She puts the card down again with a sigh, and picks up her mug with both hands. "I'll try to keep our visits to a minimum, though. No sense in making your wife suspicious and/or alerting the tabloids and making them think that Miss Direction is some homewrecking heart-throb or whatever," she chuckles.

She chews on her lips for a second as she thinks. "Do you think..." she begins, working herself up to ask. "That I could see her? Lily?"

For a moment it looks like Bailey wants to avoid the question. "I’m afraid that request is a little above my pay grade. Personally, I’m a fan of what you guys do. Not everyone in the police force feels the same way, and that divide continues on up through every level of government.

"The Task Force that runs the Catacombs prison facility isn’t beholden to U.S. laws, but they do negotiate with our lawmakers. Those in charge seem to think it would be best if the worst of the worst in the superhuman community rot in deep dark holes with no contact with the outside world. It might be that they fear you guys having too much knowledge of how things work down there. God forbid you ever go evil, they don’t want you to have an upper hand." It is clear from the way he speaks that Bailey does not share these same concerns.

"A face to face meeting is pretty much out of the question. Talk to the right people and you might be able to get a phone call to her. When she is well enough to take them, that is. You’d have to talk to another cape, like Fortuna, to get details on how you should go about it. Sorry I can’t be of any more help."

Holly nods in disappointed understanding, looking down into her coffee cup. "I appreciate all the help you have given," she tells him. "I don't think I would have gotten nearly as far as I did without yours and Fortuna's help."

In reality, she knows that if Fortuna had not been there to defend her as Medium Madam's thralls swarmed them, she likely would have ended up under her control as well. Though, perhaps whatever force had allowed her to win that mental battle would have simply broken free sooner, and likely caused more than just Lily to become catatonic.

She exhales deeply, and takes another sip of her coffee. "I need to talk to her anyway, about that night. May just have to bring it up to her then."

Flashforward to tomorrow night. You are on a rooftop in the heart of Crowfall. Fortuna is sitting on the ledge of the building, danggling her legs off the side and humming a joyful tune. She hears you walking up behind her and turns to greet you with a smile. "Come grab a seat, partner," she says and slaps a spot on the concrete ledge next to her.

It is a little bit after 11 PM and the city is still busy with traffic. Fortuna looks like a kid in a candy shop as she watches the streets below. "A lot of people in our line of work constantly complain about how difficult everything we do is. They should slow down from time to time and enjoy the perks that come with the job. I know I’ll never get tired of the view from up here."

"Yo, Fortuna! You rock!" A fan from five stories below notices the hero and shouts up to her. She gives a wave and blows a kiss.

Fortuna turns back to you with a serious face. "How you holding up, kid?"

"I've been better," Miss Direction replies honestly, the morose tone a sharp contrast to her colorful outfit. She takes the offered 'seat', letting her own legs dangle over the ledge as she looks down on the myriad of colors brought to life by a sea of streetlamps and headlights. "I've been taking the last few days off to give my wounds some time to actually heal. I was running on fumes since Triple Heist Night, and that finale certainly took its toll mentally."

She looks over. "How are you? I know you've been doing this kind of thing for years, but its got to wear you down." Her gaze turns back toward the nightscape. "If not, I'd love some helpful tips from the master."