Chapter 46

Thursdays were interesting days to Tiff. She couldn’t hate a Thursday; they weren’t Monday and thus didn’t deserve to be the focal point of her weekday-ire for shattering her dreams of infinite days off and perpetual vacation. But it wasn’t like they were Fridays, where there was only one more day until that glorious freedom, and almost everything could be safely postponed for an extra day before any real consequences might come from procrastination. And they weren’t even Wednesdays, which was smack dab in the middle of the week and had a funny name like “hump day” to laugh at. The only real benefit Thursday had over Tuesday was that it was over the hill, on the downward slope of the week…which also made it sound kind of old.

Tiff spent the better part of Homeroom dwelling on the invasive thought, wondering if the days of the week had an age hierarchy. Was one of them the big brother? If so, did they bully the younger days? And with such a large family, what did they do for birthdays?

…wait. What happened if Saturday was born on a Monday?

Tiff’s completely uncalled-for and unnecessary life crisis lasted until lunch, where, thankfully, Candice was there to distract her.

“So,” Candice said conversationally, “I did some digging.”

Tiff glanced at the cheerleader’s arms, noticed that they weren’t caked in mud, and that she wasn’t holding a shovel. She shook her head; the world didn’t need to be literal all the time. Besides, what would Candice need a hole for?

“Oh?” Tiff asked. She thought back and only one thing stood out at her like a beacon on a dim shore. “Sugar Rush?”

“Exactly,” Candice nodded. “I decided to see what there was to see about our new acquaintance.”

“She seemed very sweet,” Tiff said absently. She took a bite of lunch and realized Candice was staring at her. “Yes?”

“Was that supposed to be a pun? Because if so…boooo.”

Tiff’s lips twitched and she pretended to be thoughtful.

“Yes. But also, definitely no.”

“Booooo!”

“Accidental puns aside, I liked her. She seems fun.”

Again Candice stared at her, but this time, instead of narrowing her eyes judgingly, her look was one of pity laced with concern.

“Tiff,” Candice sighed, “She’s a Sidekick.”

“So?” Tiff asked, tilting her head. “That doesn’t mean she can’t be fun.”

“Yeah, well,  but it probably means you shouldn’t get too friendly with her. Again, she’s a Sidekick.”

Tiff wrinkled her nose. She understood what Candice wasn’t saying.

“My parents are Sidekicks,” Tiff said obstinately. “They’re fun.”

Tiff paused, then shrugged.

“As far as parents go.”

Candice scoffed in disbelief, but before she could choke on her mushy broccoli, Tiff continued.

“Look, I get it. I understand. I’m…what I am, and that doesn’t mean well with heroic types. Trust me, I totally had those thoughts the whole time we were eating ice cream. But Sugar Rush just…felt different?”

As if saying that wasn’t a whole slew of clichés all on its own, denial being one of the top contenders.

“I mean,” Tiff corrected herself, “Just compare her to that girl from Young Justice. You can’t tell me she’s the same as Wavelength. Or Turbo, for that matter.”

“Thank God, yes,” Candice muttered. “Fine. I get you. So…you want the deets?”

“Spill ‘em,” Tiff grinned.

“Okay,” Candice said, sitting up straight like she was about to give a presentation before the class. “Code name: Sugar Rush. Identity: private, status: registered. Stats: public. B-C-C. Speedster, so she falls under Might. Don’t know what her actual spread is, but I’ve got a hunch she’s got an A in one of the three categories. Might be top speed? But then again, she’s no comic book Flash, so maybe it’s endurance. The specifics of her power are classified, and as far as a registered Sidekick goes, she’s been active for less than a full year. Turned 18 last year, started operating out of Hacienda around the same time. Known affiliates: Bogard and Turnkey. No licensed headquarters, place of operations, network, or guild.”

The longer Candice spoke, the higher Tiff’s eyebrows rose. If they went any higher, they might disappear…which would be awkward, and maybe she’d need to ask Amy to help her pencil them back on.

Candice saw Tiff’s impressed face and seemed rather pleased with herself. She basked in the light of glory for several moments before revealing her secrets.

“All of this is publicly available information,” she said with a sigh. “So long as you know where to look. I guess that’s one of the downsides to sticking to the white side of the Greyscale: everything has to be done by the book, and books can be read. Here’s a few things I’ve been able to find out off the books. One: their team doesn’t have a name. Now, I know I just said they aren’t listed by the DMA, but there’s a difference between having a licensed name and being a group identifiable by a moniker. Especially if they’re local. Speaking of, it really does seem like they operate out of Hacienda, because there’s been a few news articles from local press over the last few months detailing their accolades and praising their work. Bogard, the blonde guy in the skinny jeans and the red jacket? He’s a [Martial Artist]. Most of the time, he or Sugar Rush patrol the streets, keeping the local neighborhoods safe from thugs and generally keeping the parks and playgrounds free from undesirables.”

Candice stopped to take a breath, closing her eyes as if what she was about to say pained her.

“As much as it bugs me to admit it, I think you’re right. I think these people mesh with you pretty well.”

“Oh?” Tiff perked up hopefully. “Does this mean I have your approval to mingle? Maybe do a little collab?”

Candice looked like she had thoughts on that, but she chuckled and mostly kept them to herself.

“You’re the boss. Since when do you need my permission for anything?”

“You are my social media director,” Tiff reminded her. “Do you think teaming up with a hero might paint me in a good light?”

Tiff had brief visions of following Sugar Rush into abandoned warehouses, ruthlessly crushing drug lords and destroying mountains of meticulously stacked, dubious white bricks…before Candice crushed them ruthlessly.

She gave Tiff a blank stare and speared a tomato with finality.

“I don’t think any amount of light will ever paint the Dark Queen ‘good’.”

​

Back at home, Tiff stared at her homework. This year, her science class was an elective. Freshman year was physical science, sophomore year was biology, and the next two years were open to a variety of choices. Because there was an interesting class in senior year called Wildlife that had prerequisites, Tiff’s choice this year was made for her.

Forestry.

Going in, Tiff had no idea what to expect, except maybe there were a few dark thoughts where she might be coerced to dress in flannel and help wield a large saw.

Such was not the case.

In fact, it had more to do with flora in general than with trees specifically, though there was a strong focus on identifying many types of trees, bushes, leaves, and assorted shrubbery. It turned out to be much more fascinating than it had any right to be, and was quickly becoming one of her favorite classes. Part of her enjoyment probably came from the fact that the teacher (Mr. McNickolas) really made the class; without him, it would probably have been very dry and boring. Instead, it featured random trivia of dubious worth, such as the fact that the difference between a bush and a tree was how high the trunk grew above the ground before it branched. Apparently, those little ferns that grew in forests were called fiddleheads, and if Tiff was in very dire straits, she could eat them in a pinch, as they were edible.

Speaking of edible, food was partially to blame for her lack of concentration, as was Mr. McNick’s ingenious homework plan. They’d done a unit in class that covered how environmental factors could change a species over multiple generations. The example in the exercise concerned bears on a woodland mountain: brown bears and gold bears. Now, normally a bear might be considered an alpha predator, but in this theoretical scenario, these particulars were actually Teddy Grahams—specifically chocolate and honey flavor, respectively. And, to make the lesson more alluring, the students were given a handful of each flavor to represent the current population of each bear.

Now, there were supposed to be environmental hazards that factored into which bears prospered and which dwindled, but man, yada yada yada, Tiff couldn’t pay attention because she hadn’t eaten Teddy Grahams in years, and the kids got to eat the bears as the population dwindled.

So now, at home, Tiff was supposed to be focusing on a history report, but all she could think about was tasty golden bears. Eventually, she gave up, since the report wasn’t due until next week.

“Dad,” Tiff said, shambling into Rick’s office like the homework-afflicted zombie she was, “Science is weird and it’s making me hungry.”

Rick, experienced adult though he was…had no idea what to do with that information.

“As it does,” he said sagely, typing a few more lines on the computer before giving her his full attention. “Don’t worry, dinner’s in an hour. Care to talk about it?”

“No,” Tiff moaned dramatically. “It’ll just make me want Teddy Grahams.”

Rick stared at her and decided the delicate whims of a moody teenager were beyond him.

“Sure. So how was the rest of your day?”

“Boring,” Tiff sighed. “It’s school, Dad. How else is it supposed to be?”

“Educational?” Rick supplied in his best I’m helping voice. “A place to hone your mind?”

“Ugggh,” Tiff said, flopping down onto the carpet like a corpse. “Take me now. You want me to- gasp -learn?!”

Rick watched with mild amusement as Tiff crumpled dramatically. Amy took that moment to walk by, slurping on an ice-pop.

“Is Tiff dead?” She asked offhandedly. Rick nodded.

“Looks like.”

“Sadge,” Amy said with a shrug before she kept walking.

“Don’t worry, Tiff,” Rick consoled her. “I’m sure somebody will miss you.”

“Depends on who’s throwing,” Victoria’s voice floated in from the other room.

“Savage,” Tiff cringed, sitting up.

“Well, now that you’ve been brutally murdered by your sisters, how can your old man help?”

“Actually, Dad, I was wondering if you knew anything about local Sidekicks.”

“Ah?” Rick smiled and raised a brow. “I’m assuming you’re not talking about me or your mom.”

“No. We met a new hero yesterday, and I was wondering if you knew anything about her.”

“Hmm,” Rick took a minute to consider Tiff carefully. “More…extracurricular activities?”

“Yes,” Tiff sighed.

“Eh, it wasn’t anything serious,” Victoria called from the other room.

“Tori, if you’re going to be part of this conversation, why don’t you come in?” Rick called.

“Ehhhh,” Victoria drawled. “Amy’s new chair is too comfy.”

“YOU’RE SITTING IN MY CHAIR?!” Amy yelled, dashing out of the kitchen with a piece of string cheese hanging out of her mouth. “THAT’S MINE!”

Tiff watched through the doorway as a classic Scooby-Doo chase unfolded. Victoria ran by with Amy chasing her…then back again…for a third time…until the tables were turned and Victoria was chasing Amy. Tiff heard a scream, a few giggles, and a very dire warning from Amy…until she burst out in wild, uncontrollable laughter. Moments later, Victoria marched triumphantly into the office with her little sister slung over her shoulder, defeated.

“Tickling…no…fair,” Amy pouted through heavy breath.

“We went out on patrol,” Victoria said, dumping Amy on the floor next to Tiff. “Well, it started with that note we told you about.”

“Ah,” Rick nodded. “The grey market tech dealer? Some day I need to meet this guy.”

“He’s a bit of a smooth talker,” Victoria waggled her hand. “Or maybe he just gets used-car salesman syndrome. He’s harmless, though, and he actually called us because he’s worried about getting taken over.”

“Do I need to be worried about a new Villain?” Rick raised a brow. He paused, watched Tiff flop back on the floor, and shook his head. “A real Villain?”

“No,” Tiff sighed. “I don’t think so. There seem to be a bunch of low-level mooks running around without much leadership. Or, maybe, they just banded together to form their own club. I don’t really know.”

“[Enforcers],” Victoria supplied. “Trying to rough up the locals in Hacienda.”

“Ah,” Rick nodded. “We sometimes cover that area, but not often. Makes sense, though…some punk is always getting an upgrade from the System. They do a bit of crime, get a few Quests, level up…and soon enough the System offers a Class. [Enforcers] are common enough. Any of them powered?”

“Not especially,” Victoria said. “We only ran into two. One of them got taken out by some bootleg Tinker crap, and I slapped the other silly. No, really, he folded like a wet paper bag. If he got any Stat upgrades, they weren’t into Might.”

“Mmm,” Rick frowned. “You girls know how I feel about you running into danger. Tori, you can do what you want with your own life, but try not to drag your sisters into fights.”

“Oh, we weren’t fighting, Dad!” Amy said, raising a hand into the air. “Promise!”

“Why am I not reassured?” Rick asked. “Tiff?”

“We…watched from outside the window,” Tiff admitted. “There wasn’t much to see.”

“Whatever,” Rick said. He tapped idly on his desk for several moments before shaking his head. “So there’s a rising [Enforcer] group in Hacienda. Noted. And you don’t think there’s a bigger force backing them?”

“Hard to say,” Victoria said. “But currently, no. From what we learned from 5th Street, to what Haxus told us he was afraid of, these guys do seem like a rogue element. If you want my opinion, Dad? I’d say the set of heroes we met pose a bigger threat than them.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t serious?”

“It’s…complicated?” Tiff mused. “They seem alright. But they’re Sidekicks and I’m not.”

“Okay,” Rick nodded. “How about you start from the top? Tell me about these Sidekicks.”

“Well,” Tiff said, sitting up. “One’s a Speedster named Sugar Rush. She’s a…bigger girl, age 18, Hispanic. Her power kicks in, and I think everything about her speeds up. If she eats sugar, she goes back to normal. Sounds like she really just wants her neighborhood to be safe.”

Rick gave her a curious look.

“And she…told you all this?”

“Some,” Tiff agreed. “The rest I found out from Candice.”

“Your cheerleader friend?” Rick scoffed. “You had your classmate look into a hero?”

“She said it was all publicly available data!”

“Well,” Rick admitted, “She’s not wrong.”

He typed away at the computer for a moment before turning back to the kids.

“Sugar Rush. I’ll look her up. You said Sidekicks, plural. Were there more?”

“She’s part of a team,” Tiff continued. “Unnamed. We met one, a [Martial Artist] called Bogard, and there’s a part-time Tinkerer called Turnkey. Not part of Young Justice, only been active for about a year.”

Tiff tapped her finger on her chin. Was she forgetting something? Probably.

“Oh, we exchanged contact information!” She said, a lightbulb going off. “Candice took everything down. We’re supposed to swap info if anybody finds anything out!”

“Tiff,” Rick groaned, “This isn’t a homework assignment. Why are you partnering up with Sidekicks to fight crime?”

“Because it’s good for the neighborhood?” Tiff replied. “Because I told Haxus I’d keep his shop safe? Because…after I did, his store is now part of my Controlled Areas? I have a responsibility to my people, don’t I?”

“I wish you didn’t,” Rick groaned, leaning back. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, lost in thought. Eventually he turned to Victoria and gave her the third degree.

“I want to tell you girls to drop this. I want to tell you to leave it alone. Let the professionals do their jobs; that’s what they get paid to do.”

Victoria looked like she might have some words to say about that, but Rick continued.

“But I also know all of you are going to do what you want, no matter what I say. I just…I’m begging you here, Tori. Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t let your sisters get hurt. And for the love of God, girls, if you sneak your way into a fight with a Sidekick or freshly leveled [Enforcers]...make sure you use protection.”

The girls started nodding, and then, suddenly, all at the same time, they froze. Amy looked at Tiff, who looked at Victoria, who tried to hide a smirk. Amy squirmed in place and couldn’t take it any longer.

“Why does it sound so awkward when you say that?”

Rick sighed explosively, threw his hands in the air, and decided it was time to get up and probably make dinner.

“Because you’re young and you make everything awkward,” he ranted, heading toward the kitchen. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

​

Dinner was hamburgers. It was one of the few things Rick wouldn’t settle for takeout on, as he preferred to grill them himself. Tiff followed him into the backyard, looming on a chair next to the grill, watching the platter of freshly molded patties like a hawk lest any wayward flies dared to try landing on her food. There was a sharp contrast in who each burger was for, considering each member of the household’s calorie requirements, but even then, there were limits to how beefy one could make a burger.

…technically.

Strictly speaking, Tiff was pretty sure she’d seen those huge tubes of ground beef at the supermarket claiming to be 95% grade-A beef, so maybe there was a limit.

But besides what it was made of, it could only be so large before it stopped being a burger and turned into a loaf. And, while Tiff appreciated a good meatloaf now and again, it just didn’t have the same ring to it as burgers did. And there was the fact that it had to be cooked in the oven, rather than fired over a grill…and most recipes called for onions, which she hated, meaning she always had to pick them out….

All that to say, Tiff’s burger was about the size of a drink coaster. Maybe a little larger. She usually had two patties with a slice of melty American cheese on each of them, and if she were feeling a little frisky, she’d even toast the bun. Veggies? No thank you. She didn’t care for lettuce and tomatoes made the bun soggy. Onions could go die in a fire. So…plain. And there was nothing wrong with that. Just a plain 2 by 2, and maybe a soda.

Victoria, on the other hand, took a whopping ½ pound burger, doubled the patties, slapped on all the fixings…and ate two. Sometimes three.

Amy was a little more normal…except she always demanded white cheese with teriyaki sauce and a pineapple ring. Tiff could get behind a good Hawaiian burger. That checked out. Especially if it also had bacon. But if it had bacon, then it needed BBQ sauce, and then why would you put pineapple on it? Swap it back to yellow cheese, maybe add an onion ring (for all the heathens out there), and call it a western rodeo.

But all of that would come later, with the bickering, teasing, and gloating over whose burger was better. Right now, they were all in various states of a lumpy red mess, and Tiff took her job as fly repellent seriously. And honestly, she wouldn’t have it any other way. She was the one her dad trusted not to play around with the food or try to eat any of it early in the middle of cooking, while her sisters were banished to the kitchen realm to set places around the table. It afforded her a rare opportunity to chill with her dad, not a care in the world.

“So this Sugar Rush girl,” Rick said, breaking the ice. “Sounds like she might be important to you.”

“Why do you say that?” Tiff asked. It wasn’t a defensive question; Tiff genuinely searched her own thoughts and feelings to see if he saw something she missed.

“I know my daughters,” Rick mused. “You haven’t talked like that about someone since Candice. And look how that turned out,” he chuckled, pointing the spatula at Tiff. “You gave her a Class and now she works for you. Oh, I am so curious how this is going to turn out,” he laughed darkly. “As soon as you’re forced to pay taxes. You think it’s all fun and games right now, but in a few years….”

“Wait,” Tiff blanched. “Can’t I hire a tax guy? I mean, he might need to be a villainous tax guy, but aren’t all tax guys evil anyway?”

“Historically?” Rick smirked. “Pretty much, yeah. Where do you think tax collectors back in the day got their bad rap from? You know the story of Robin Hood. You think the Sheriff of Nottingham is fictional? Nah.”

“But what does that have to do with Sugar Rush?”

“I’m just sayin’, you seemed excited.”

Rick glanced at Tiff, who was scowling at the patties.

“Well, excited for you.”

“Pah,” Tiff barked. She picked up the tongs and rearranged the cheese so it was perfectly lined up like a shuffled deck of cards. Excited? Her?

…maybe.

And she was alone out here with her dad…who definitely knew how to keep a secret.

“Maybe a little,” Tiff muttered. She snuck a look at her dad out of the corner of her eye. He wore a tiny smirk, but he didn’t say anything. “I think it might be fun, you know? See what a real hero gets up to.”

“You visited the DMA,” Rick countered.

“I mean, I guess,” Tiff rolled her eyes. “But can you really call those guys real? They’re so…different. Sugar Rush, and even Bogard, from what I saw…they’re much more genuine. They feel…like people I could actually know. Not like….”

“Characters in a cartoon?” Rick supplied. “Actors in a show?”

“Yeah,” Tiff nodded. “Like I could learn a thing or two from them.”

“Mmm,” Rick hummed. “What does the System have to say about that? I know it’s been less than…hands-off when it comes to you.”

“Nothing,” Tiff shrugged. “It had plenty of time to throw me a Quest, try to get me to have somebody defeat them for me, throw them under the bus, sabotage them, whatever. It didn’t. Even now, there’s nothing. It almost makes me more nervous, wondering why something hasn’t come up. What’s the System thinking?”

“Those are dangerous words,” Rick laughed. “Many men have spent their lives trying to figure that out. None of them have ever succeeded. So…Tiff. Let’s talk some hypotheticals. Sugar Rush…and her partners. Bogard, you said? And the Tinkerer. Let’s say you find out information on an [Enforcer]. What do you do?”

“I have Candice contact them?” Tiff asked. She obviously wouldn’t do it herself, not until she got to know the girl much, much better. “We told them we’d share information.”

“Why?” Rick asked. “What do you have to gain? Why not keep it to yourself?”

“Hmm,” Tiff thought about it. “For one…it’s the right thing to do, isn’t it? And for another….”

“Yes?”

“Well, I don’t want to be suspicious,” Tiff admitted. “They think we’re heroes, too. They think I’m an information specialist.”

“That’s good!” Rick laughed. “And, technically, not wrong. Your suite has the most powerful info-gathering tools I’ve ever seen. You’d make an excellent [Spotter].”

“Yeah,” Tiff grinned and nodded.

“Great,” Rick smiled back. “What happens when they find out the truth?”

Tiff’s smile slipped off. She hadn’t thought that far down the road. Well, of course the thought had occurred to her, but she never ran the exercise like they were doing right now.

“I…don’t know,” she said in a small voice.

“I see two things happening,” Rick said in a level voice. “And they’re pretty far apart on the scale. One: I see you getting into a big fight. Two Sidekicks? Supported by a Techie? Could get ugly, Tiff. Especially if they get the drop on you.”

That was the worst-case scenario, something Tiff didn’t want to think about.

“And the other?”

“It all depends on the relationship you build up front,” Rick said with a sigh. “Treat ‘em right. With respect. As people, not tools. Make them feel valued, and above all, don’t try to trick them.”

“You want me to straight up tell them I’m a Supervillain?” Tiff asked, full of disbelief.

“Of course not. There’s a difference between tricking somebody and holding your cards close to your chest. You’re a bright girl, smart enough to know that. Just like there’s a difference between an outright lie and withholding some information. It’s dangerous, but it’s what you do with it that matters.”

“So I really shouldn’t get myself involved, should I?” Tiff asked.

“I’m…not so sure,” Rick admitted. “Despite what I said, I think this could be a good thing. It sounds like they’re a bunch of grassroots kids, built up to serve their community. Hard to say no to that. I think they could do real good in the world…and you could help them. You want the same thing, right? You don’t want [Enforcers] breathing down the necks of your stores, and I’m guessing you wouldn’t mind keeping some neighborhoods safe too, right?”

“Right,” Tiff nodded.

“It also provides you with pretty solid cover,” Rick said, scooping up one of Victoria’s patties and thwacking it down on the grill. “Hard to be accused of running a gang if you’re part of the crew taking down its members. Police probably won’t be asking too many questions if you’re the ones making all the reports.”

“Yeah,” Tiff said with a grimace. “I did think of that….”

“What can I say?” Rick shrugged. “Using heroes for your own nefarious deeds? Double-crossing some allies? Pretty standard Villain behavior. You hang around Tori long enough, you could probably even build up a solid alter ego.”

“I don’t think I’d be able to maintain a hero persona,” Tiff shook her head.

“Then don’t,” Rick said. “Get Candice to do it.”

Tiff was taken aback; she didn’t think her dad would rope her friend into this.

“That’s what she’s for, right? You said so yourself when you interviewed her. [Vizier], social expert? Get her on the case. Have her make you look good.”

“Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen,” Tiff groaned.

“Oh, I’m not saying it isn’t a house of cards just waiting to blow over. It absolutely is going to topple down the moment somebody pokes it with a stick. But that’s the important part, Tiff. Build up the relationships now, while you have the chance. What’s that quote from Mark Twain? The proper office of a friend is to side with you when you are in the wrong. Nearly anybody will side with you when you are in the right.”

Tiff grew silent, pondering her dad’s words. They fell into a steady rhythm of slapping cheese onto patties and patties on the grill. Little niblets of the larger patties that cooked too fast and would otherwise get burned, or weren’t attached well enough and fell off…sometimes got eaten. Rick would slip Tiff a little morsel when nobody inside was looking, just a treat for the two of them. The more Tiff thought about it, the more she solidified her resolve. Was getting involved with a real hero, somebody actively involved with fighting crime in a neighborhood, dangerous? Absolutely. But was it something she wanted to support, even if the System wouldn’t let her do it herself? Very much yes.

The only question was how much villainy the System was going to make her commit once they started getting rolling, and how well she could keep it under cover until the whole thing got exposed. The time to back out of this whole mobster career had long since passed…in fact, that was never an option from the get-go. Now it was up to Tiff to use all the tools at her disposal, no matter how unorthodox, to clean up the mess she was given.

But all of that would come with time, and there was something else she needed to take care of first. It had been several days since the Pomona Rift opened and it had long since stabilized. Tiff was determined to see with her own eyes the damage her Rift did to her city, and she couldn’t put it off forever. As soon as her mom got back from work, it was time to beg for a favor.

¹

Thanks for reading! Have a great day :)

Discord

Patreon