Chum

There's a knock at my door when I'm only half-expecting one, and it startles me out of my thoughts as I'm working on writing up some sort of proposal or another. The amount of paperwork I have to deal with as a city councilwoman is absurd - it's like, 90% of the job. At least when I was a criminal, I only had to deal with paperwork 60% of the time. The other 40% was stealing shit or planning to steal shit. I'm already missing it.

The knock comes again, and I call out, "Come in!" It's probably just my secretary, but I'm surprised when the door opens and in walks Richard Duvall, the Republican I absolutely wrecked in the special election earlier this month. Speak of the devil and he shall appear - I was just thinking about how much I hated this rat bastard. He's dressed like your typical office worker, tie and all, but I can see his fake smile from a mile away. His hairline is receding faster than glaciers in the Arctic, and I have to resist the urge to make a snide comment about it.

"Richard," I say, plastering on my own fake smile, "what a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He chuckles, that fake, politician's chuckle that makes my skin crawl. "Maya, Maya, Maya," he says, shaking his head like we're old friends. "Can't a guy just stop by to congratulate his opponent on a well-fought campaign?" I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Well-fought, my ass. I crushed him 80-20. It wasn't even close. But I play along, standing up from my desk and walking around to greet him properly.

"Of course, Richard. How thoughtful of you." I extend my hand for a shake, but he surprises me by going in for a hug instead. I stiffen for a moment before reciprocating, reminding myself to play nice. As we pull apart, he gestures to the window behind my desk. "Some weather we're having, huh? All this snow… you wouldn't happen to have anything to do with that, would you?"

I laugh, but it's a hollow sound. "Oh, Richard, you know I haven't used my powers in years. The government would fine me a million dollars for every unauthorized geometeorological event. Besides, I'm more of a sun and clear skies kind of girl."

He nods, his eyes glinting with something I can't quite place. "Right, right. Of course. Wouldn't want to upset the bureaucrats, would we?" There's an edge to his voice that puts me on alert. Something's not right here.

I decide to cut through the bullshit. "But clearly you're not here to chat about the weather, so what is it you're really here for, Richard?"

His smile falters for just a second before he regains his composure. "Straight to the point as always, Maya. I like that about you." He pauses, clearly for dramatic effect. "I've been hearing some… interesting rumors lately. About you."

I raise an eyebrow, keeping my face carefully neutral. "Oh? And what kind of rumors might those be?"

He leans in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Well, word on the street is that Maya Richardson, our newly elected city councilwoman, might have some… connections to a certain organization. The Kingdom of Keys, I believe they're called? Ring any bells?"

I feel my heart rate pick up, but I don't let it show on my face, because I'm a professional. I squeeze my brain until my heart beats normally. It takes seconds. A flutter, at most. Instead of responding, I laugh, loud and dismissive. "The Kingdom of Keys? That gang of superhuman mobsters causing trouble up and down the east coast? Richard, please. I thought you were smarter than that."

He doesn't back down, though. His eyes are locked on mine, searching for any sign of weakness. "Maybe I am, Maya. Maybe I'm smart enough to know when something doesn't add up. Like how a former superhero suddenly decides to run for office, right when this Kingdom starts making big moves in Philly."

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms. "That's quite a leap you're making there, Richard. You got any proof to back up these wild accusations?"

He smirks, and I feel a chill run down my spine. Not out of fear, just disgust. "Proof? Well, not yet. But I've got my ear to the ground. And you know what else I heard?"

I raise an eyebrow, silently prompting him to continue. He leans in again, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "They're going to steal a rhinoceros. Can you believe that? A whole darn rhino."

I can't help it - I burst out laughing. "A rhinoceros? Really, Richard? That's what you're going with?" He looks taken aback by my reaction, which only makes me laugh harder. "I've heard the rumors too - baseless drivel from a schoolgirl riling up the local superhero population. The one who got her fifteen minutes of fame when that neo-Nazi Patriot beat her up at homecoming? Now she's just spreading whatever wild stories she can come up with to stay relevant."

Richard's face falls, and I know I've hit the nail on the head. "How did you-" he starts, but I cut him off.

"Richard, I'm a politician now. It's my job to know what's going on in this city. And right now, what's going on is that you're making a fool of yourself with these ridiculous accusations." I stand up, walking around my desk to face him directly. "Let me get this straight. You think that your political opponent, a known superhuman with known powers, is secretly a member of a notorious gang of other superhumans, and your plan is to… what, exactly? Blackmail me? How do you foresee that going for you?"

He stutters, clearly thrown off balance. "I… I have evidence, Maya. Things that suggest a connection to the Kingdom. Skeletons in your closet that you might not want the public to know about."

I laugh again, but this time it's cold and harsh. "Evidence? Like what, Richard? Some vague rumors and a teenage girl's wild imagination? You're going to need a lot more than that if you want to play in the big leagues."

He stands up straighter, trying to regain some of his bravado, as he reaches into his other pocket and pulls out a wad of folded papers, smacking them in his hands. "This evidence. And the digital evidence in my emails. You're going to threaten me now? Make it rain in your office? Summon a little tornado? Get real, Maya. I did my research. I know what your powers are. You're no threat to me."

I smile, and it's not a nice smile. It's the kind of smile that makes people remember that I used to be a superhero, and that there's a reason I was feared even then. "Oh, Richard. You're adorable."

He swallows hard, but he's not backing down. Instead, he reaches for his pocket. "That's okay. I recorded this entire conversation. I'm sure people would love to hear your vague threats towards me."

My smile widens, straining my cheeks, and I hold up his tape recorder - the one I pickpocketed from him when we hugged earlier. The one in his other pocket. "Looking for this, Richard?"

The color drains from his face as he realizes just how badly he's fucked up.

I toss the recorder from hand to hand, watching his eyes follow it like a cat tracking a laser pointer. "You know, Richard, I'm feeling generous today. So here's what we're going to do." I set the recorder down on my desk and start taking off my jacket. "We're going to go for a little ride, you and I. Clear the air, so to speak."

His eyes widen in panic. "What? No, I'm not going anywhere with you!"

I laugh, holding my arms out to my sides. "Relax, Richard. Look, I'll even let you pat me down. No guns, no tasers, nothing but my wallet and my phone. Unlike you, I don't feel the need to engage in skulduggery." I turn around slowly, letting him see that I'm not hiding anything. "Come on, take a ride with me. I can't hurt you if you're not outside, right? I'll tell you everything. Scout's honor."

He hesitates, clearly weighing his options. Finally, he nods, his curiosity apparently overcoming his fear. "Fine. But this better not be some kind of trick."

I lead him out of my office and down to the parking garage, where my sleek black Audi is waiting. "Get in," I tell him, gesturing to the back seat.

He complies, though I can see the tension in every line of his body. As I slide into the driver's seat, he clears his throat. "Where exactly are we going?"

I start the engine, the purr of it filling the enclosed space. "We're getting lunch," I say casually, as if this is a perfectly normal situation. "I'm hungry. My treat. You like Checkers? There's one on Broad Street - their mozzarella sticks are insane." He doesn't respond, just stares at me like I've grown a second head. I pull out of the parking garage and onto the street, the snow falling gently around us. "We're going to get food, and then I'm going to kick you out of my car in front of your house and you'll go home and forget this happened. Sound good?"

The silence in the car is thick enough to cut with a knife. Richard sits stiffly in the back seat, his eyes darting between me and the passing scenery outside. I can practically hear the gears turning in his head as he tries to figure out what my angle is. Me? I'm just enjoying the drive. Philly looks beautiful in the snow, all soft edges and muffled sounds. We pull into the Checkers drive-through, and I roll down my window to place our order. The kid at the window does a double-take when he sees me. "Councilwoman Richardson? Is that you?"

I flash him my most winningest smile. "Sure is, honey. How's your mom doing? She still working at the library?"

The kid beams, clearly thrilled to be recognized. "Yes ma'am, she is! She'll be so excited to hear I saw you!" I laugh, warm and genuine. "Tell her I said hi, will you? Now, let me get two orders of those amazing mozzarella sticks, a Big Buford for me, and…" I glance back at Richard, who's looking increasingly bewildered. "What'll you have, Richard?"

He mumbles something about a chicken sandwich, and I relay the order to the kid, who's still grinning from ear to ear. As we pull up to the window to pay and collect our food, I can't help but notice the warm reception I get and the complete lack of recognition for Richard. It's almost funny, in a sad sort of way. Here's a man who thought he could be a big shot politician, and the kid at the drive-through window doesn't even give him a second glance.

We get our food and I pull out of the parking lot, heading in the general direction of Richard's house. The smell of greasy fast food fills the car, and I dig into my burger with gusto. Richard picks at his chicken sandwich, clearly too nervous to have much of an appetite. After a few minutes of silence broken only by the sound of chewing, I decide it's time to have our little chat.