Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s allowed to be just this.

Everything in Kim Pines life was, probably, where it should be. She had a house (which was shitty), a job (which was crap) and friends (who all sucked). She had hobbies and she left the house every day. If she was in trouble, she, at least hypothetically, had people she could ask for help (not that she ever would, ew). She was in a band, which would have made 12-year old her happy, provided she didn’t learn what a sucky band they actually were. She even owned both a washing machine and a dryer, which was cool until all your shitty friends come round to yours at random hours begging to use it because the samurai (not even worth asking) they killed that morning didn’t turn into enough cash to use at the laundromat. Was her life perfect? Absolutely not. Did she want something different? Almost definitely. But was everything, at the end of the day, essentially fine?

Yeah. Probably.

- - -

To get to No-Account-Video from Kim’s shitty flat that she shared with her shitty flatmates, you had to catch a bus that goes in the opposite direction so you could get to the bus station that actually takes you into town. If either bus was even a minute late you were completely fucked if you wanted to arrive on time for your shift. Or you could be an annoying American and use whatever the fuck subspace even is, then it took you like a minute tops. Ramona had promised to teach Kim how to use it, at some point, but the explanation of what the thing even was had put Kim off the entire idea. Knowing her luck, the second she stepped into another dimension she would probably get stuck in there for life.
‘Couldn’t be much worse than this I guess.’ Kim grumbled under her breath. The old man sitting next to her looked at her curiously, then hid himself back into his newspaper as she shot daggers at him.
The bus was late. Kim was probably going to get to her 2pm shift at 2:45, which officially put her in danger of a lecture from Hollie, sweeping duty and no dinner, thanks to Hollie’s tendency to keep latecomers behind after close for stock checking and mandatory conversations about that guy from the library who’s maybe seeing somebody but probably isn’t because Julie said something blah blah blah. Then by the time you get out all the pizza places are closed except for the one ran by some creep who got caught staring down some girls top last month and your flatmates have eaten all your food in the fridge because you ‘didn’t put a label on it’ except you totally did and they just ignored it and-
‘Hey! Video store girl!’
Kim glanced around. There was nobody there, except the old man who remained buried in his paper.
‘Don’t ignore me, I’m talking to you!’
Kim sighed. So it probably wasn’t a hallucination.
‘Okay then, I’ll bite. Where are you?’
‘Right behind you…’
‘Kim whipped around. There was nobody there, but she heard cackling from somewhere.
‘That’s not funny, asshole.’
She scanned her surroundings. Old man, bus station, closed Chinese restaurant, bin, guy smoking next to bin… nothing.
‘Look if this is about Scott or Ramona, go annoy them about it okay? I’m late for work.’ Kim snarled. She definitely recognised the voice that was taunting her. On a better day she’d have known who it was, but she was tired and slightly hungover. Stephen had insisted on buying round after round for them last night at that shitty dive bar. Kim suspected he was using his now-stuffed wallet as a way to gloat about the success of his stupid musical, but she wasn’t above free drinks.
‘Why would it be about that duo of retards?’
The voice was coming from above her. The slight twang of annoyance that had clearly crossed their mind had made them sloppy and made the plastic of the bus shelter buckle underneath them as their weight shifted.
‘Apparently everything around here is.’ Kim replied non-commitantly. ‘And get off the roof. If you fall through and land on me I will kill you.’
A pair of beaten up combat boots swung down, narrowly avoiding kicking Kim in the head, followed by a pair of ripped fishnets that clashed horribly with a kimono that was trying way too hard to appear authentically Japanese. Blond pigtails and a facemask with some kind of toothy grin on it completed what could only be described as an absolutely atrocious fit. The person wearing this was clearly a lunatic, and Kim knew exactly which lunatic.
‘How’d you know I was up there?’ Roxy was hanging by the tips of her toes, just a little too close for comfort. Kim didn’t move though.
‘You’re noisy. I thought you were supposed to be a ninja.’
‘Half ninja!’
‘Is the other half elephant?’
Roxie flipped down fully, one of her pigtails slapping Kim in the face. Probably on purpose.
‘Ha! You’re funny Pines. But my backstory is a mystery known only to my closest allies, of which I have none!’
‘Don’t you come from Philly?’
Roxie visibly deflated. ‘How could you possibly-’
‘You told me. Like straight up.’
‘Oh.’ Roxie’s energy was completely gone. She picked idly at the handles of one of her katanas. ‘Was I drunk?’
‘Very.’
‘Well… no matter! Knowing I’m from Philly doesn’t mean you can defeat me!’
This girl was just full of energy wasn’t she? She had already sprung back to life, waggling her stupid katana around like a kid trying to get their parents to play. Kim was almost jealous of her enthusiasm. Almost.
‘Why would I want to fight you? I’m late for work, and also I probably can’t fight. That’s Scott’s domain.’
‘Probably?’
‘Depends who you ask.’
‘Well, who said I wanted to fight you, Pines? I already know you’re no match for me!’
Kim pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘You did. “You can’t defeat me, I’m from Philadelphia, I love cheesesteaks”, something like that.’
‘Those aren’t fighting words! That’s just conversation!’
If that’s what conversation was to Americans, Kim was glad she had never left Canada. ‘So, if you’re not going to kill me, why are you here?’
‘Simple, Pines! I was wondering if you needed a lift to work!’
Kim blinked in surprise. It had been a while since someone had offered to do her a favour, even just a little one like a lift to work. She quickly buried the knowledge of how sad that was.
‘You… uhh… you got a car?’
‘A car, ha! You Canadians are so retro! We can just subspace the whole way there!’
‘I thought Ramona was the subspace guy?’
‘That fakeggot? Don’t make me laugh!’. Roxie sneered. Ramona was clearly still somewhat of a touchy subject for her. ‘I taught her everything she knows about subspace.’
‘Even the bag?’
‘Okay, no, the bag is kind of her thing. But still, like 95% of the rest is me!’
Kim snorted at Roxie’s undentably smug expression. She really didn’t go down without a fight. ‘Okay then. Get me to work. But don’t expect a discount or anything. I don’t think I have the authority to do that.’
Roxie pulled her mask down to reveal a row of teeth almost as sharp and as grinning as the design. ‘Let’s Rox and roll!’
‘Never say that again.’

- - -

For a second, she thought she had died.
Roxy had taken her a few blocks down the street to what had looked like a blank wall, only for a door to suddenly poof into existence right in front of her. They had stepped through together, and suddenly she was falling. Inky blackness swirled around her and forced itself into her mouth, making her choke on nothingness. Something that wasn’t exactly wind whipped in her ears as loud as a subway train. She was almost completely blind, the only colour piercing the shadows was her hair whipping around her.
And then someone took her hand and, somehow, dragged her forward through nothingness towards a speck of light barely visible in the distance. As they battled forward, Kim’s eyes adjusted to the darkness just long enough to make out another door, then Roxy grabbed the handle and she was free.

- - -

‘Fun ain’t it?’
Kim didn’t respond. She was too busy catching her breath and reminding herself she was alive. Out of the corner of her eye she could vaguely see No-Account-Video across the street. At least something good had come from that nightmare.
‘No!’ she finally spat out. ‘Not fun! Awful!’ Kim was so rattled she had forgotten the promise she had made to herself never to shout unless she was on stage, lest people forget how cool she was.
‘Awwww, I didn’t peg you for a crybaby Pines!’
‘You don’t peg me for anything, fucking psycho bitch.’
Kim ignored Roxie’s immature sniggering as she turned away and headed towards work. Her head still felt fuzzy and there was a faint taste of bile in her mouth, but she had worked through worse. The day after Stephen Stills’ 21st… She could still taste Malibu in her mouth if she thought too hard about it.
‘Hey! You didn’t say thank you!’
Roxie was suddenly beside her. Bullshit ninja powers, she had snuck up behind Kim without so much as a whisper.
‘Whyyyyyyyy the fuck would I do that?’ This chick was starting to get on Kim’s nerves now, which admittedly wasn’t that hard.
‘Because I did you a favour and I taught you something!’
Kim ignored her again and pushed open the sticky door to No-Account Video. Hollie was already inside, idly toying with a stress ball.
‘You’re late.’
‘No I’m not.’
Hollie glanced at her watch. ‘Huh. My bad I guess. Force of habit. Who’s your friend?’
Kim chewed the inside of her lip as the sound of Roxie knocking into a shelf and sending DVDs flying everywhere filled her ears. ‘This is Roxie. I trapped her in a TV once. She’s Scott’s girlfriend’s ex.’
‘Is Scott the one with the beard or the one who sucks?’ Hollie asked idly, picking at her stress ball.
‘The guy who sucks!’ Roxie piped up, clambering over DVDs she had no intention of picking up.
‘Yeah. The guy who sucks.’
‘Well, fascinating as all that probably is, I kinda don't care. Put your shit away and clean that up will you?’ Hollie demanded as she finally tore a hole through her stress ball, spilling plasticky fluff everywhere behind the desk.
Kim gritted her teeth, but Hollie was one of the only people on the planet who could actually tell her what to do (and that was only because Kim’s rent relied entirely on her), so she bent down and started to organise the DVDs Roxie had spilled. Roxie, meanwhile, was looking through No-Account’s surprisingly extensive horror collection.
‘Do you guys have Wrong Turn yet?’ she asked, not turning around as she continued to pour through the shelves.
‘Isn’t that shit still in cinemas?’ Kim snapped back irritably. The Edward Scissorhands disc had somehow snapped clean in half when the shelf came down, and Kim already knew Roxie wasn’t going to pay for it. She sneaked the DVD into her coat pocket and prayed she remembered to replace it before Hollie noticed.
‘Maybe? I don’t know how Canada works.’
Kim furrowed her brow in curiosity as Roxie’s comment sparked a question in her head.
‘Why are you still here?’
Roxie didn’t look away from the shelf. ‘Am I not allowed to borrow a movie now? Geez you really can be crabby.’
‘No, I mean… here. In Toronto. Hell, Canada in general. Ramona’s whole shit is cleared up by now, why aren’t you back in Philly?’
Roxie didn’t answer for a minute, choosing instead to stuff a few DVDs down her top. Then, after a pause so long Kim had begun to think she hadn’t heard the question, she responded.
‘I dunno. I mean, there’s nothing really for me back home I guess. Mom and Dad live in Tampa and I’m not moving there. The League was sort of all I had. And now Gordon’s down here and Lucas’s down here and… there are worse places to live. And besides, I have a feeling, y’know? You ever get a feeling? Like, you have to do something but you’re not sure why? I have that feeling here, I think. So yeah, I’m just hanging around. Waiting for something to happen.’
Kim nodded thoughtfully. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I get that. I get, um, I know what you mean. About just, just feeling something.’ All the bile was gone from her voice.
Roxie just shrugged, then turned to leave. ‘I’ll see you around, Pines. I still have to teach you about subspace after all!’
‘Roxie!’ Kim called after her. Roxie turned back around in the doorway, bright afternoon sun pouring from behind her.
‘You have to pay for those DVDs in your top.’
‘Fuck sake.’

Chapter Text

Kim Pines enjoyed having a routine. The problem was her current routine was awful and she hated it. It went as follows.

4am: Get woken up by dipshit flatmates coming home from the club. Sit in quiet fury as they crash around the kitchen trying to make pasta.
7am: Wake up for literally no reason. Debate whether to get up and make breakfast or go back to sleep. Finally decide to get up and be productive, then end up going back to sleep anyway.
10am: Wake up for good. Seethe at previous wake up failure, stumble out of bed, throw on anything on the floor that doesn’t smell too bad and head out.

This marks an exciting split in Kim’s day that depends entirely on whether she actually has money to spend. If she does, she’ll head to a coffee shop and pick up a bagel, although this has become risky since the only good coffee place in walking distance hired some college student who clearly has a thing for her and is always trying to flirt with her whilst he makes her coffee. If he’s working that day, she’ll turn around and go back home to have stale cereal instead.

11am: Ignore flatmates' pointed remarks about her lack of makeup and get the bus to work.

Kim’s rota for work was basically ‘whatever Hollie feels like’. Just last week she’d worked 11-5, 9-2, 10-5, 2-6:30 and 12-7. This always caused havoc to her routine and occasionally gave her stress migraines, but she had to admit it was worth it for the days Hollie tells her not to come in, even if it was because she ‘didn’t want to see her miserable face today’.

2-6pm: Get off work at some point, head directly to Stephen’s house for band practice.
8pm: Pretend to not want a drink, head directly home.
9pm: Get home, ignore flatmates boyfriend itching his balls and watching hockey on the sofa, get into bed and read.

Although she wouldn’t admit it to anyone, Kim enjoyed reading more than practically anything else. Probably because reading was a strictly solo activity and could be done in complete silence without anyone even knowing she was in her room. As far as the world was concerned, she probably didn’t even exist.

11pm: Sleep and wake up the next day ready to do it all again.

This was Kim’s awful routine that she hated, but it was better than nothing. It could be a lot worse after all. She knew how much worse it could be. So she kept going, head down and eyes closed through what should be the best part of her life. The one thing she didn’t want, above anything else, was something major to change, something that disrupted this routine. Change, after all, is way more trouble than it's worth.

It was a weekday afternoon, which meant Kim was at Stephen Stills’ house pretending she was in a band again. Her, Stephen Stills, Scott, Ramona, Knives and Young Neil were all cramped into a living room/band practice space that had definitely felt bigger a few months ago when it was just the three of them. Everyone else was arguing about some chord progression that Scott had fucked up. Knives (who wrote songs now, she guessed) was flapping a bit of paper in his face and pointing at it whilst Stephen stood behind her and nodded like he had helped write it at all. Neil was tapping away on his laptop like he always was these days and Ramona was doing a very bad job of pretending like she wasn’t falling asleep. Everyone was pretty much as they should be.
Kim chewed the tip of her drumstick. It was a bad habit that had recently turned into a costly habit when she found out she could bite through the tip of a drumstick by accident with minimal effort, but she couldn’t be bothered to stop herself. As she stared blankly at the domestic drama unfolding ahead of her, her mind wandered.
‘I hate commuting to work…’. Understandable. The bus was a piece of shit that sometimes, not always but often enough to be a problem, had dead rats on it.
‘I wish I could use that subspace thing…’. Also understandable, even if the experience had made her physically sick for a few hours after Roxie had left.
‘I wanna see Roxie again.’

Kim bit down on the drumstick hard. Splinters filled her mouth instantly and the largest piece of wood sliced open her tongue, mixing the harsh taste of iron-filled blood with the chewy flakes already filling her mouth. Ignoring the others, who had stopped their arguing to look at her confusion, she stood up slowly, walked into Stephen’s bathroom and began to wash her face.
What the fuck was she doing? She didn’t ‘want’ to see people, that just doesn’t make sense. The very concept of it irritated her.
Scott was knocking on the door, some little tune from a game or something or other that she didn’t know. It was intensely irritating, but she swallowed the urge to open the door and shout at him. It would only cause more problems than it solved. Instead she closed the toilet lid and sat there, quietly, chewing the last splinters of wood in her mouth.

- - -

It was late. The constant hum of traffic from the city was ever so slowly quietening down. She’d probably be asleep way before it stopped entirely.
Kim had left Stephen’s in a hurry with a mumbled apology and a promise to be more focused next time. The excuse she gave, an excuse that had to be extracted from her under threat of parent-calling, was that she had eaten rotten leftovers and given herself food poisoning. It was the best kind of excuse because it had actually happened to her and probably would again.
Downstairs, she could vaguely hear the sounds of some horror film on the TV. They had definitely snuck into her room to look through her DVDs again. She really did need to get a lock installed, even if Tracy would complain about how she ‘doesn’t show them any trust or respect’, the fucking hypocrite.
Kim was sitting in her windowsill smoking. It was one of the only features about this house that made her even consider living there past her tenancy, the big window sills that she could put a cushion and an ashtray in to sit and watch the view. As she stared, a young couple crossed the road in front of her, deep in argument. The guy was waving his arms around frantically whilst the girl was clearly crying. Kim felt a bit sorry for them, but that didn’t prevent her from cracking open her window to listen in.
‘And I was just saying that I don’t have to tell you every little thing I do, okay? I’m my own man Christine!’
‘No because, you said that we would go together, Paul, and I get downstairs and you know it takes me a while to get ready and I said I was sorry but you w-’
Kim closed the window with a bang. Nothing of interest there, just the predictable problems of boring people.
‘Besides’, she thought to herself as she stubbed out her cigarette, ‘you have your own shit to deal with.’

The problem Kim currently had was that she had absolutely no way of finding Roxie. That stupid subspace shit meant that she could be absolutely anywhere in the world. Or trapped in a terror dimension below it, or split into an infinite amount of versions of herself, or just straight up dead. Kim still wasn’t really sure how Subspace worked. She remembered Roxie had mentioned she was still hanging around Toronto, but for how long she had no idea. The chances of her getting bored and leaving to go do something else was pretty high considering how flighty and spontaneous she seemed.
(Kim didn’t really notice it, but the thought of Roxie leaving Toronto sparked a little ember of annoyance in her chest)
The only person who could really help is Ramona, but whilst Ramona seemed nice and funny and everything, Kim still wasn’t really sure how much she could trust her with a secret. She had absolutely no way of knowing if Ramona was the type to gossip yet. Better to be safe and try and find out as much as possible by herself.
When Kim got serious, she liked to journal her thoughts. Seeing them written down on a page made it seem more real, a tangible thing she could interact with. She always had a couple of notebooks lying around, some for music, some she used to write reminders to herself. One had remained untouched. She’d bought it when out buying posters for her, at the time, new room and had liked the design on the front. An Egyptian ankh, intertwined with the symbol of infinity that had some kind of spiked design that Kim really liked. She had absolutely no idea what it meant, but it looked cool. Maybe she’d get it tattooed one day, if she ever had the money. It had gone straight in the bottom of her drawer with a big mental label marked ‘For Special Occasions’ on it, so when she fished it out of the drawer without even really thinking about it and put pen to paper almost immediately, the memory of what it was supposed to be made her recoil slightly.
Was this a special occasion?
Kim almost put the pen in her mouth before remembering what had happened to her drumstick. From downstairs, the sounds of some poor teenager getting sliced in half were barely audible.
A notebook cannot be for a special occasion. That was dumb. Kim was probably dumb for even making such a big deal out of it. It was fine. She should just start writing.
Now resolute, Kim flipped the book open and started to jot down everything she could remember about Roxie. She was so busy writing that she didn’t even notice that this notebook had the same symbol from the front imprinted on all the page corners. Blown up for size, it was a little easier to make out the fact that the infinity symbol wrapped around the ankh centrepiece wasn’t spiked, it was thorned.

Chapter Text

Roxie Richter was sleeping in garbage.

It was supposed to be more of a temporary living situation that had suddenly escalated to more of a permanent one when the family whose house she had been staying in suddenly decided they didn’t want her to live there anymore and communicated this to her through the means of returning home from holiday a few days before the emails she had read off their computer had suggested, throwing chairs at her and calling the police. Honestly, there was no proper communication between anyone anymore. You meet a young, attractive girl who’s gone to the effort of staying in your house (not even in any of the beds! The sofa for Christ’s sake!) and instead of trying to get to know her, you just kick her out immediately? That’s why nobody over 35 had any friends.
She had considered moving into another unoccupied house, but the truth is it was more effort than it was worth. You had to scope the house out for a little bit to make sure they actually left, break inside without setting off the alarms (being a ninja helped but it was still irritating), snoop around to try and find evidence of when they’d be back and the whole time you’d be stressing that some fucking guy shows up and notices the lights are on when they’re not supposed to be and then they call the cops and it’s just one big hassle. It was much easier to find a nice pile of garbage bags (she had gone with the ones behind an office block that sold pens or stamps or something that used a lot of paper, which meant that she had some nice soft bags that didn’t smell), sleep there for the night, wash yourself in the nearest gym and go about your day. It was probably foolproof. It was the best plan she could think of at any rate.
Roxy liked to spend her days shoplifting. Sometimes it was for necessities, like food and new clothes, other times it was for fun. She still had a couple candles and a PS1 controller tucked away behind her garbage bags (she had to get Ramona to teach her how to subspace a bag at some point, then kill her so she couldn’t tell anyone that Roxy had to learn from her) that she had absolutely no idea what to do with. Sell them? That was no fun.
When she wasn’t shoplifting, Roxy enjoyed training. You could never be too certain that nobody was going to attack you, especially in Toronto. She wasn’t sure what the deal with this place was, but there were all sorts of freaks and weirdos littering the streets. Just last week she had to fight a gang of nerds that got superpowers from playing on their GameBoys. One of them had turned into Pikachu and then accidentally electrocuted his friend, it was weird. This whole province (which she had learned was Canadian for state) was just like that, weird. No wonder Ramona had come up here. It was full of enough shit to keep her occupied for at least like, a few months.

- - -

Roxy was trying to buy cigarettes. Cigarettes are tricky to steal because they’re hidden behind that stupid glass case behind the guy at the counter and you can’t just kill him, it’s rude. Having said that, this guy in particular was reeeeeeeeeeeeeally pushing his luck.
‘It’s $10.49. If you don’t have that I can’t sell it to you.’
‘I have $10. Give it to me and I will go and get your 49 fucking cents, okay?’
There was a queue forming behind her. This shitty little gas station store, which had been literally empty when she walked in, had suddenly filled with angry truckers and old women. One notably dickheadish dickhead was making a point of loudly sighing and tutting and looking at his watch every so often. Roxie calmed herself by imagining him bleeding to death in a bus station bathroom.
‘Ma’am, you know I can’t do that. It’s $10.49, you need $10. 49.’
Roxie idly traced the hilt of her katana with her fingers. Maybe if she killed this guy, she could threaten everyone else in the store into not ratting her out. But that wouldn’t deal with the CCTV…
Fuck this. She was leaving. It literally didn’t matter that much. There were other shops with other packs of cigarettes. It literally did not matter at all.
‘Hey, I got 50 cents if you wanna borrow it.’
A young man had pushed himself to the front of the queue, much to the annoyance of the people behind him. Black curly hair and a very faint scar across one cheek. He smiled at her, a disarming smile. It wasn’t one she was used to seeing.
‘Yeah, thanks man.’ She snatched the money from him and dumped it unceremoniously on the counter. The greasy little fuck behind the counter pawed it almost instantly, before spitting up her cigarettes and a single cent in return. She left without saying anything. If she had opened her mouth again, she probably would have said something she couldn’t take back.
‘You didn’t say thank you. That’s fine, but you don’t wanna make that a habit.’
The guy from the store had followed her outside. He was still smiling like shit didn’t suck. It kinda annoyed her, but also kinda didn’t. It was a nice smile.
‘Why would I say thank you to him? He was a fucking dickhead.’ she spat, clawing at her new pack of cigs to get at the rewards inside.
‘I meant to me.’
‘Oh.’ She paused, unsure how to continue. ‘Thanks?’
‘No problem. Anytime. Are you new in town?’
‘Uhhhhhhhh yeah. Something like that.’
This was in real danger of turning into small talk. Roxie hated small talk. It was a waste of time for everyone, so she decided to drown this particular kitten before it had to chance to turn into an awkward cat. ‘Listen man, thanks for back there and all but I’m really just trying to go home right now.’
He deflated slightly, but didn’t stop smiling. ‘Ahh well. That’s a shame. I was hoping to get to know you better.’
Roxie was too confused to respond, so the guy took this opportunity to pull a pen and a receipt out of his pocket. He scribbled something down on it and handed it to her. ‘In case you ever felt in the mood to talk. Or be shown around town. Something like that.’
It was his number. Roxie took it without saying anything, but he still seemed happy enough. Or the wind had changed and his face was just stuck like that.
‘I’m Marcus, by the way.’
‘Roxie’, she finally managed to spit out.
‘Roxie… Nice name. I like it. Well, catch you later. Don’t be a stranger, huh?’
He winked at her and sauntered off, trying to look cool. He sort of maybe succeeded.
Roxie immediately stuffed the receipt in her pocket and headed off home. It would be unfair to say that she forgot about Marcus instantly, he was certainly a curious figure, but the fact of the matter is that she didn’t think he would matter at all. He just wasn’t a factor in her life.
And yet the receipt remained in her pocket.

It was a few days later, and Roxie was sick of sleeping on garbage. Her back was fucked, her neck was fucked-er and her chest was fucked-est. She was sick of being woken up in the middle of the night because she rolled over and got poked in the tit by the sharp corner of a microwave dinner. She was sick of smelling at least vaguely of bananas all the time (why did this goddamn city eat so many bananas?). She was sick to fucking death of having to throw out at least one top a week because foul-smelling juice from the skip she stored them behind leaked onto it and she was sick, sick, SICK of not having any real money. She picked up what she could from killing weirdos and other ninjas and the occasional wizard but it wasn’t enough to live on. She needed a job and she needed a home. Not even a house, a home. It felt like she was going to be stuck in the not so Great White North for the foreseeable, so she might as well make the best of it.
There was a hotel a couple blocks down from her little garbage palace that she had been scoping out for a while now and it seemed perfect. She would break into one of the rooms and if anyone checked in there she could just hide and then go into another room. It was perfect.
‘You could just ask Ramona for help, you know?’ was the thought she had been spending the last hour trying to wrestle out of her head. Ramona didn’t want to help her, and even if she did Roxie didn’t want to ask for her help. Call it stubbornness if you want, but Roxie thought showing up on your exes doorstep to beg for a place to stay was sort of pathetic, especially if Scott was there. (Had they moved in with each other yet? It was hard to tell).
Besides, Roxie was like 20something years old now. High time to start relying on herself and only herself. Her parents had always warned her this time would come.
She gathered everything into her subspace, took one last look around the garbage pile that she wouldn’t miss exactly, but would feel weirdly nostalgic for down the road, then hopped the fence and disappeared.
And whilst she did leave in a hurry, it would have taken someone with incredible attention to detail to see the CCTV camera, its light blinking blue for some reason, swing over to watch her go.

Chapter Text

It was dark, but it wouldn’t be for long. The sun was teasing its way past the horizon and pretty soon it would be too bright to go to sleep. Not that Kim was in any danger of drifting off, she was having one of her moments.
Her father was the one who came up with that phrase. At first Kim thought it was his clumsy way of talking about her periods, but when she started actually noticing them happening rather than just accepting them and letting it all wash over her, she started calling them that as well.
It was an easier sell than the truth. Than the real name.
Her father didn’t like to talk about it, or to her when they happened. ‘If you’re just going to mope around the place and not take anything seriously then I don’t know why I should bother.’ he had made a habit of telling her. It never stopped hurting, no matter how many times he said it.
Her mother had tried to explain to her that he didn’t really mean it and he was just worried about her, but it never helped. It never stopped feeling like she was being a burden to them, it never stopped feeling like she didn’t deserve to feel this way, it never stopped. No matter what she did.
As she grew older, she had sort of come to terms with the way her father acted. She didn’t really forgive him, he certainly wasn’t the person she’d be talking to if she ever mustered up the courage to ask for help, but he was just a human. Just a guy. Could she really say she could handle it if she knew the people she loved felt like this?
A spider slowly crawled onto her desk. It sat there for a minute, almost like it was looking directly at her. Kim watched it scuttle around impassively.
Her father was a strange man, she had decided. She was thinking about him a lot recently. She missed him, sort of. Not in the ‘I want to go and see him’ way, but more so that she found herself appreciating things about him that she never really noticed before. He called her his ‘petit bambino’, because he thought the idea of combining two languages he didn’t speak was funny. He had bought her her first pack of cigarettes and then pretended to be disappointed when her mother had found them, promising to give her a lecture about the dangers of smoking only to turn to her and say ‘You fucking suck at hiding things’ the second Mom had left. He wasn’t strictly a nice man, he had no time for people he thought were idiots, which was a lot of people. He wasn’t a helpful man either. With him, you either sink or swim. He wasn’t sticking his hand out either way.
Kim liked to think about her parents from time to time. It was nice, remembering that people really did love her, even if it was only because they sort of had to. Nobody else was obligated to. Maybe that's why nobody else bothered.
The spider was gone.
Kim’s dad liked to throw rocks into ponds. His thinking was that, on the off chance rocks were alive, they would appreciate the change of scenery.
The spider was back. It had crawled into the pencil case Kim had left on her desk and was now waving around on top doing whatever it is spiders would do.
Kim’s dad once told her that she had better appreciate being alone. ‘One day, your life won’t really be yours anymore. It’ll be yours and someone else's. Maybe a lot of someone else’s. And it’ll be the best time of your life and you’ll be so happy, but sometimes you’ll think back to when you were just you for you. And you’ll miss it. So you better appreciate it while you can.’
Kim did not appreciate being alone at all. It hurt. An aching hurt that sat in her chest wherever she went. It only changed when it grew, spreading through her like blood in her veins until the sheer weight paralysed her completely. Her father was an idiot. Either for being wrong, or for never teaching her how. Whatever. She could get used to this feeling. Not destroy it, never destroy it, but tame it. It could just live in her chest forever if it wanted. That seemed like the easiest thing to do, far easier than convincing anyone else to take the weight. Why put it on them? What kind of person would force an innocent stranger to live like this? What kind of person would make someone they love live like this? Other than, you know, him. But he was Ramona’s problem now.
Kim wasn’t him. She would not make herself someone else’s problem.
Her dad hated her music. He would try and take her CDs all the time and screamed at her to turn them down every chance he got. For her 17th birthday, he bought her a new CD player. Not even he really knew why. It was louder than the old one. When she had asked why, he had just shrugged and said ‘I thought you’d like it.’
Maybe that mattered more.
- - -
Roxie Richter also couldn’t sleep, although that’s because she was planning. The hotel room she was staying in was nice enough, but not particularly safe. She had seen the receptionist slip a pair of thick glasses into his shirt pocket earlier and he smelled faintly of smoke, so the only logical conclusion is that he was one of those evil nerds and she would have to kill him at some point. He knew what room she was in and was probably going to try and kill her in her sleep as revenge, so she would stay up all night waiting for him. This was, of course, all incredibly logical. This is what normal people did. Roxie had once had a series of hookups with a girl who had angered some sort of cowboy mafia and couldn’t go six paces without some varmint challenging her to a duel with a tommy gun, or she’d be sleeping with the rattlesnakes. People who can’t commit to one gimmick are the worst.
Roxie was sitting on top of the wardrobe, because it was the most tactically advantageous spot in the entire room. Also, because she wanted to prove she could climb. When the nerds entered, she would simply smoke bomb them and start swinging away. This would probably also set the fire alarm off, so the water from the sprinklers should discourage any more Pikachu bullshit.
The sound of movement outside pricked her ears, but it was accompanied by the high pitched giggle of a pathetic little bottom, clearly angling for a good time with a married man. It was a very specific kind of laugh. You knew it instantly if you were versed in such things.
Roxie dug her sword into the top of the wardrobe, raining tiny flecks of wood down on the carpet below. She was thinking more and more about that guy at the store, Mike, Micky, M-something. Or maybe it ended in M. Like Sam. She was hardly a gold star lesbian (thank you Christopher Bonucci for enduring what had been the most apathetic blowjob in recorded history during senior year of High School and returning the favour by stealing her candles when she was asleep), but it had been a while since she had ever considered a man as a partner in any capacity. She was kinda uninterested in them as a concept really. Nothing personal, most of the time, just not what she needed. But Corner Store Guy (CSG for short) was a little different. He had been kinda nice-ish and didn’t look too bad. It wouldn’t be the end of the world to see what he was working with, as long as it didn’t really go anywhere. Unless…
Another sound, but again it was nothing. Some businessman on the phone promising to make some sort of faire or conference tomorrow. Boring.
Was Roxie forgetting something? It really felt like she was. There was a space in her brain where a memory usually went, but it was currently kinda foggy. Like she was trying to forget something. She mentally shrugged. Ah well. Couldn’t be helped. It would come to her eventually, unless it wasn’t important.
The creak of footsteps. Like a guy who was bad at being quiet sneaking up to a door, or a more imaginative analogy that Roxie didn't really have time for right now. She tightened her grip on her sword and leaned over the side of the wardrobe to listen closer.
‘This is the room bro. She’s in here.’
‘Dude… there’s a girl sleeping in there! What if she sleeps naked? I don’t know if I can do this man…’
‘Come on Reggie! Would Godwin the Brave stop in his tracks just because his enemies had boobies?’
Roxie grinned. This would help jog her memory.
Abandoning her earlier, now very boring seeming plan, she leaped off the wardrobe and slid her sword directly through the wood of the door. The telltale sound of coins hitting carpet on the other side greeted her. As she exited her room, she could see about $40 lying on the floor. The nerds had clearly sent something approximating their best. She turned to the other unfortunate geek, shaking in his suspenders, and licked her teeth.
‘Don’t be a Godwin bro. If you run, I’ll give you a headstart.’

- - -
The sun had come up and Kim hadn’t slept. She’d call in sick, it was fine. Wouldn’t be the first time. Certainly wouldn’t be the last. At least she could move now. Her father was gone from her mind. Next time, it might be her mother. Or Scott. Or…
She dismissed the thought. There was a line of thinking that would go absolutely nowhere.
Her desk was covered in the faint remnants of a spider's web. The spider itself was long gone, it had given up trying to make a home on the crusty surface and retreated to the comfortable darkness of the hole inside the walls.
. Her notebook was still lying there. She picked it up and flicked her eyes over the notes she had made. Minimal stuff really. Name, basic physical details, personality traits (several synonyms of the words ‘annoying’ and ‘loud’), and a rough idea of her powers. At the bottom was her big plan.

TALK TO RAMONA.

Well. It was something to do.

Chapter Text

Ramona’s house was pretty nice. It made Kim furious. If anyone ever asked her she was suuuuper pumped all her friends were doing well for themselves, but she was also undeniably jealous. And lying. Truth be told, she wished her friends were doing worse.

Kim had been forced to sit on her grand plan until she had a day off from work, and then for a bit longer because Hollie had called her in because she had forgotten Kim had a day off and then made her work so she didn’t feel like it was a wasted trip and THEN had given up after like 3 hours and just sent her home and by that point Ramona was out with Scott (blech) so she had to wait even longer.
Kim had just about decided that higher powers than her had decided to step in and prevent it from ever happening when Hollie had given her another, unexpected day off.
‘Consider it an apology. Don’t say anything, just nod and stay the fuck away tomorrow. I’m very rarely this kind. You’re lucky I like you.’
Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Kim had kept her mouth shut. And now she was here. No real plan, not even a clear objective. Just sort of… winging it.
‘Nothing new there then.’
When she knocked on the door, she did so with the knowledge that Scott might open it. It was still an unpleasant surprise when he did.
‘Oh! Kim! Hey! How, uhh, how’s things?’
‘Worse now, Get bored leeching off your boyfriend and hopped houses I see?’
‘I don’t live here. Not yet, I think. I just stayed the night.’
‘Classy. Would you move so I can come in? I have business with Ramona.’
He shuffled off to the side and allowed her to pass. It was her first proper look at Ramona’s house. The last time she was here, it was kind of a whole thing. She hadn’t had the chance to look around. Now she had a minute, she realised it was quite a nice house. A little over decorated for her taste maybe, but nice. She wouldn’t mind a house like this, she guessed.
‘Would you like tea?’
Oh. Yeah. Scott was still here.
‘You don’t have to be the host Scott. This isn’t your house, remember? Not yet?’
‘Well Ramona’s in the shower, so I’m the best you have.’
What an awful situation to be in.
‘I guess, if you’re offering, Pilgrim. What you got?’
‘Ummm…’ He scanned the cupboard in front of him. ‘We got… yellow tea?’
‘God you’re fucking useless. Let me look.’

She had picked ginger with honey. He had picked a Coke.
‘You’re gonna destroy your teeth with that stuff one day.’ she had told him. Wishful thinking, maybe.
‘Ehhh. I can always get new teeth.’
‘Your aptitude for self-destruction is dazzling.’
‘Did you say altitude?’
‘We’re done talking now.’
She sipped her tea. If she knew Scott, and she did, he’d break this wonderful silence in about five seconds.
‘Oh! I almost forgot. Stephen Stills wanted me to give you this.’
He fished some crumpled sheet music out of his pocket. It was just about on the right side of readable.
‘Fuck, man, you couldn’t keep better care of this?’
‘I don’t own a bag. Ramona won’t let me use hers cos last time I did I got lost in it and had to fight clones of her. Except, I couldn’t fight them, so I just kinda got beaten up by them until she saved me.’
‘The fact you’re still alive is a tragic miracle.’
She inspected the music closer. It was pretty standard Stephen Stills stuff. Sloshy hi-hats, vaguely romantic lyrics. It would take her maybe a day or two to learn. Simple enough.
‘He thinks this one has legs, you know. He wants to play it at our next gig as the opener.’ Scott told her as he crushed his Coke can and lobbed it into the bin.
‘When will he learn to stop leading with our new shit?’
‘That would matter if we had fans maybe.’
She chuckled grimly. ‘Yeah. Other than your ex and your next.’
The sound of the bathroom door opening drew both hers and his attention away from the paper.
‘Finally, Ramona. Scott, your company was as, well, you know, as usual. But I have something serious to talk about so please piss off.’
Ramona raised an eyebrow. She had dyed her hair again. She looked like an orange creamsicle. Kim had preferred her old hair more. She wouldn’t say anything though. ‘Scott can stay, if he wants. Also, hi. Also, what are you doing in my house?’
‘I let her in. She says she wants to talk to you about something important.’
‘Oh yeah?’ Ramona glanced at the mug of tea on the table. ‘Good choice. So, what’s up?’
‘It’s Roxie.’
Ramona’s face fell. ‘Oh for fucks sake. What’s she done now?’
‘Nothing. Not yet. I just need to talk to her.’
‘Good luck with that. The bitch is untraceable when she wants to be. She takes that ninja shit seriously, you know.’
‘I know. She wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it.’
Ramona snickered. ‘So, what’s the problem?’
Kim relayed the story of her encounter with Roxie at the bus stop. As the story progressed, Ramona’s face became more and more clouded with confusion
‘Wait, so she just showed up, took you to work and left again? That doesn’t sound like her, not at all.’
‘Doesn’t it? I don’t really have a frame of reference.’
‘Well…’ Ramona pondered as she drew a chair up to the table. Scott was eating leftover pizza out of the fridge and pretending he wasn’t listening. ‘It’s certainly weird. The Roxie I dated hated doing favours for anyone.’
‘Do you think…’ Kim flicked her eyes towards Scott, who was drinking garlic sauce straight out the pot. ‘Scott, I’m actually asking nicely now, can you fuck off? This is private.’
‘It might be best to take a walk actually babe.’ Ramona agreed
Scott nodded, set the pizza down and shambled out the door.
‘He’s forgotten his keys. God I hope he doesn’t try to go back home.’ She rubbed her temples. ‘He’s gonna kill me one day.’
Kim snorted. ‘Been there.’
‘He’s getting better, you know. He has a job interview next week!’
‘Fascinating. You were saying about Roxie?’
‘Oh, right. Well, it’s been a couple years since we dated. I don’t know, maybe she’s just different. I know she fell in the League and all that, but that can’t have been her whole life. Maybe she went on a bit of a self-improvement kick. Who knows?’
‘But why me? Why not you? Kim finished her tea and leant back in her chair.
‘Well, you two, you know…’ Ramona opted to make a weird gesture with her hands instead of finishing her sentence.
‘If you mean ‘kissed’ then yes, we did. But there was nothing there. We both agreed.’
‘Would you do it again?’
The question surprised Kim. It also irritated her. She chewed her lip.
‘I mean, I guess? Sure. Let’s go with that.’
Ramona said nothing.
‘Okay, fine, yes. The answer’s fucking yes. Are you happy?’
Ramona nodded. ‘Admitting you have a problem is the first sign to recovery.’
‘Really funny, Ramona. I want a smoke. Can I go in your garden?’
‘Sure. I’ll join you actually.

The two women smoked in silence for a minute. Birds flapped lazily overhead. Ramona lived in a quiet neighbourhood, but Toronto was never truly silent during the day. There was always a police siren barely audible, someone on the street.
‘I liked your old hair better.’ Kim admitted.
Ramona flicked ash over her neighbour's wall. ‘So did I’.
‘What did you mean I had a problem?’
‘Homosexuality. It’s a real burden.’
‘Bisexuality actually.’
‘God, really? That’s worse.’
‘Yeah. I know. So do you.’
‘Yeah…’
Kim finished her cigarette first. ‘So, do you have any plans? Or schemes? Or anything, really.’
‘Not really.’ Ramona admitted. ‘Roxie’s a force of nature. If she’s got an interest in you, she’ll show up again at some point.’
‘Great. So what, I just kinda hang around, go through the motions until something good just kinda shows up? Because I’m fucking bored as shit of that Ramona. I want to do something.’
Ramona sighed. ‘I guess you could try talking to the rest of the League about her. Gideon and Lucas are still in town I’m pretty sure. Todd too I think. He’s still pining after Wallace last I heard.’
‘Poor guy.’
‘He cheated on his girlfriend with him, you know.’
‘And his girlfriend is a bitch and I hate her.’
‘Good point.’
‘So what, now I go interrogate your other exes? All the while keeping an eye out in case she just appears out of the sky?’
‘It’s the best I have, sorry.’
‘It’s a better plan than what I had I guess.’
‘What was yours?’
‘Come talk to you.’
Ramona laughed. ‘Fair enough.’ Her phone suddenly buzzed furiously in her pocket. ‘Oh god, that’ll be Scott. I’ve gotta go, I need to get his keys to him.’
‘No worries, I gotta head off as well. Thanks, I guess.’
‘You’re welcome, I guess.’

- - -

The thing about ninjas is that you only ever notice them when they want you to. A ninja could be behind you right now as you’re reading this and you’d literally never know. Don’t bother turning around, they’re already gone. You’ll just look stupid.
So, hypothetically, if a ninja wanted to spy on Kim Pines leaving her house, note that she wasn’t going to work, follow her to Ramona’s, break into her neighbours, listen to their conversation both through the wall and from behind a garden fence, nobody would ever notice. Certainly not that fakeggot Ramona.
Roxie licked her lips. So, Kim was gonna come looking for her, was she? With a purpose? Well, if she wanted her, she’d have to earn her.
This would be fun.

- - -

The thing about the technological revolution is that there are cameras everywhere. You don’t have to be a ninja to listen to someone. Why bother with all that stealth shit when you can simply build a robot that listens to people for you? You can make it as small or as large as you like. You can even paint it a funny colour. Most people won’t even notice. Most people are stupid. Not you. You’re way smarter than anyone else, because you know as much as Roxie and more and you never left your couch.
The only question is: how to use what you’ve found?

- - -

The thing about forgetting your keys is that it really fucking sucks, especially when your flatmate is out doing fuck knows what so you have to wait for your girlfriend to teleport over with your keys and then she doesn’t want to come inside because she hates being caught making out with you by your flatmate who comes back home way earlier than usual. But that’s just the price you pay for being Scott Pilgrim. Really, it was your own fault. You should have known better.

Chapter Text

Lucas Lee lived alone, as lots of people do. Some shithole apartment in the middle of God knows where. He hadn’t memorised his own address yet, something about how he wouldn’t be living there for much longer. That had been a month ago. In that time, his old mansion in California had been sold to some TV personality no-name jackoff prick. A chef. Not that Lucas cared. When the MTV Cribs had come out he hadn’t even watched it live, he had taped it.
Lucas was a barista now. He used to be an actor. Now he was a barista.
His girlfriend had been supportive, for a while. Or something like that. She hadn’t outwardly minded. But she was an actress and she wasn’t going to live in Toronto with him in this apartment, so she left.
And honestly? It was fine.
When Lucas told people that they didn’t believe him. It kinda pissed him off. He used to be in movies, now he was a barista. The bartender's sexless little brother. How did that not enrage him?
For a while, the Second Cup had been packed with people who had come purely to see him. A few were holding out hope this was some kind of promotional stunt. A few had come to laugh. He put on a show for all of them and always came home exhausted. Then the novelty had dried up and he was just another barista. Very, very occasionally people talked to him about his acting career. He was happy to reminisce with them. Unlike with an interview, he didn’t have to lie anymore.
In Toronto, he had Gideon and Julie, sort of. They were sometimes in New York, but he didn’t mind. It was an hour on the plane, hypothetically, not that he would ever make enough money from barista-ing. Beside, he and Gideon played online games all the time. He never won, but he had more fun.
He had a few guys he was teaching how to skateboard. The youngest one called him Mr. Lee. It was cute.
He was occupied, if nothing else.

Lucas hadn’t thought about Ramona for 3 weeks, 2 days, 18 hours, 9 minutes and 28 seconds, although he wasn’t the one keeping track. He was too busy making coffee. Lucas couldn’t even remember Scott’s name. So when Kim Pine entered his (not his) coffee shop, her face sparked absolutely no recollection at all.
She was hot though.
‘Lucas, I need to talk to you, so you’re gonna go on break now. Get that guy to cover for you.'
‘Sorry babe, but I don’t entertain hookups on the job. I’ve got work ethic. Come back around 8ish and I’ll see what I can do you for.'
The hot woman seemed annoyed by this. ‘No, cocksucker. I need to have a normal conversation with you. About the League.’
Lucas’s ears picked up. This chick knew about the League? Wait a minute…
‘Have we met before? Wait, we totally did! At that play! Man, that was fun. I got to beat up that guy’s dad.’
‘That wasn’t- I’m not going to explain that to you. It’s a waste of time.’
‘Wait, so you know Ramona?’ (0 weeks, 0 days, 0 hours, 0 minutes and 0 seconds read a clock in somebody’s bedroom.) ‘Have you recently broken up? Because the League is in a state of flux right now.’ He was borrowing a phrase he’d heard Gideon use recently. He wasn’t sure what flux was, but it sounded sick. It was that thing that could be capacitated, right?
‘Don’t use words if you don’t know what they mean Lucas.’
‘Well… we’re reshuffling.’
‘I don’t want to join your fucking League. I’ve never dated Ramona.’
‘Then what do you want? Are you, like, starting a rival League?’
The hot chick clenched her fist like she could do anything. ‘Stop being stupid. Stop talking over me. Fucking shut up. I need to ask you one, simple question. Can you answer it? Or will you go off on a stupid fucking tangent?’
Lucas folded his arms and waited. He was totally gonna go off on a stupid fucking tangent now.
‘I need Roxie’s phone number.’
‘Ha! I don’t have that shit. Even if I did, I wouldn't give it to you. But I don’t. So it’s irrelevant.’
Hot Girl was clearly trying to hold in a lot of repressed rage. Lucas thought that probably wasn’t healthy. ‘Why. The fuck. Does Ramona have such bad fucking taste. This stupid bitch has never dated anyone normal.’
‘Hey! The older Katanayagi twin is normal! He has like, a dog and a washer-dryer.’
‘YOU CANT HAVE AN OLDER FUCKING TWIN YOU STUPID FUCKING FUCK!’ she exploded. She was even hotter when she was angry. The Second Cup customers, who had all been served by Julie at some point or another, didn’t even glance over.
‘So you think they came out at the same time? That’s gross. Ew.’
‘Okay, fine. Whatever. Just… give me Gideon’s number. It’s his fucking League.’
‘Ha! I do have that shit. But I’m not going to give it to you. Even if I didn’t have it I would do the same thing.’
Lucas ignored the twitching in her eye as he continued. ‘Besides, even if I did give it to you it would be worthless. Gideon never answers the phone to anyone he doesn’t know. And Julie screens his voicemails. For the record, if it was worth something, I still wouldn’t give it to you. The League is serious shit.’
‘Iiiiiiiiiiiii really fucking hate you.’

She stepped outside for a second. Lucas could see her pacing up and down the street, kicking snow. In the cafe, an old woman finished her mocha and began to slowly doddle towards the counter, holding her cup. Lucas took it out of her hands before she could even stand up straight.
‘Have a nice day.’ He winked at her. She just ignored him. She was probably used to it by now.
The hot woman stormed back in, nearly knocking his customer off her feet.
‘Watch where you’re going!’ Hot Girl snarled.
The old woman simply shook her head and left.
‘That was like, super rude.’ Lucas noted.
‘Shut upppppppp oh my fucking God. I need you to ask Roxie for her number at the next League meeting.’
‘Ha! We don’t do that shit. We’re not a book club! We don’t have meetings!’
‘How do you organise anything then?’
‘Gideon summons us whenever something big happens with Ramona. Which will probably never happen again because our whole reason for forming or doing anything was cockblocked by that guy’s dad killing him in front of Patel.’
‘So, what. Is. THE FUCKING POINT OF YOU?’
‘I don’t know. I’m just a barista. A really sexy, talented, skateboarding barista. Do you want a coffee? I can make it sexy if you want.’ He winked again.
‘No. No I don’t. I want to go home. You are a fucking piece of shit and I hope you die. Either at your own hand or in a tragic accident, I don’t care.’
Lucas just shrugged. ‘Okay. See you around, Hot Girl.’
She just stared at him. It was a strange expression. Angry, obviously, but a sort of amazement mixed in there as well. Then, she took his tip jar, emptied it into her pockets and left before he could react.
‘Wow. Some lady. I can see why you’re into her.’
‘Huh?’ Behind him, the other guy stopped wiping down the steamer and whirled around with a blank expression on his face.
‘Not you. The ninja hiding behind the bin.’
‘Oh. Okay.’ He turned back around and started wiping purposely again.
The bin slid out from underneath the counter, followed by a chubby girl with black war paint and a pair of katanas. ‘Wow! You were great, Lucas! Just as irritating as always.’
‘What can I say? I’m a great actor.’
‘You weren’t acting.’
‘Not particularly, no.’
Roxie perched herself on the counter and started fiddling with the napkins. ‘If I’m right, and I am, she’ll probably go to Todd next, Sadly he’s much less in tune with our little game, but I’m sure I can swing him somehow.’
‘Yeah. Whatever. Can I have it now?’
‘What? Oh, of course.’ She fished into her pocket and produced a DVD titled “Power! The Lucas Lee Lexperience.”
‘This shit was so hard to find. I had to hit like eight stores and two guys with eBays.’
Lucas cradled the DVD to his chest. ‘She’s just as beautiful as the day I lost her.’
'You enjoy jacking yourself off to yourself.’ Roxie exclaimed as she hopped fully on to the counter and started unscrewing the vent above their head. ‘I have a vegan to reprogram.’
'Hey, wait a minute! How did that chick know about the League and Gideon! I thought she was just some random hot chick! You never told me she was like, plot relevant!'
Roxie flashed him a smile of shark teeth. 'Don't worry about it. Not your problem.'
She flipped up into the darkness above his head and was gone.
‘So, uh… what is that?’ the other guy asked. He had stopped polishing again. Lucas was probably gonna erase his name from the sign in sheet for that.
‘THIS is the cinematic masterpiece that is the Lucas Lee Lexperience. An hour and 37 minutes of my life from a wee lad to the strapping young man you see before you, every bump, every hardship and every triumph! Maligned by the public, less than 400 copies exist and you are lucky enough to be looking at one right now.’
‘Uh huh. And why is it called the Lexperience?’
‘Because alliteration is cool.’
‘Uh huh.’
The other guy turned around and grabbed his cloth again.
‘Someone’s uninvited from the watch party.’ Lucas muttered under his breath.
‘What was that?’
‘Nothing.’

Chapter Text

The desert stretched in front of her until it escaped the eyes and broke the line of the horizon, reaching borders never known. A gentle breeze rippled across the sand, pooling it around her bare feet. The grains were smooth, they slipped through her toes like water. There was no light from the sky, instead it seemed to shine from below. She couldn’t shake the feeling of a microscope, the feeling of being watched. Inspected.
‘You know you’re dreaming, don’t you?’
The owner of the voice couldn’t be seen, of course, but she knew who it belonged to.
‘Yeah. I do. Of course I do.’
‘This place is known to you?’
She scooped up a handful of sand and let it sift through her fingers. ‘Can we skip the theatrics? They’re boring.’
They’re necessary. It doesn’t work otherwise.’
‘Maybe I don’t want it to work, huh? Ever considered that?’
The voice didn’t respond. Instead, the wind picked up slightly, ruffling at her hair. The sand started to spread over her feet, covering them completely.
‘I don’t like it here. Never have done.’ she scowled.
‘Such is life. There’s a price to be paid for everything I’m afraid. Even dreaming. You didn’t think you’d be free here, did you? Not when you have so many questions to answer.’
‘I’m not in the mood.’ She set off blindly, picking a direction at random. The wind changed course and followed along beside her.
‘Childish. Temperamental and childish. From the minute you were born I’m afraid. There’s no changing that.’
They blew slightly harder, causing a light stinging on her thighs and calves as the dunes behind her started to pick up and follow her.
‘Why do you want to be alone?’
‘I don’t want to be alone. That’s stupid.’
‘Can’t fool me. I can see what you’re doing, you know. It’s the plan of a hermit. Alienation of the highest order.’
‘No. I’m putting in the effort, aren’t I? I’m doing what has to be done.’
‘You’re running around in circles. We both know it, I think. The sooner you start being honest, the sooner we can get the real work started, chicklet.’
‘Don’t call me that!’ she yelled. A gale had picked up. Sand spun and danced and weaved around her, catching in her hair and the folds of her skin. A scratch opened up on her cheek, just below the eye.
‘Why not? Nobody else does and someone has to. Can’t be forgetting you’re just a little chicklet.’
It was her least favourite part. The dust devil she was the epicentre of started to coalesce, form vaguely humanoid features. Slender and effeminate. A form the voice had chosen herself, not a reflection of reality. The vanity of some people.
‘Because I’m a grown woman who doesn’t need to be given a stupid name. I make my own decisions.’
‘And you’re bad at them, bunnybean.’
‘That’s worse!’
‘Well, you didn’t like chicklet…’
Whole now, the owner of the voice stepped forward. A thin crust of sand encasing thin air and a soul. She could crush it with a single blow, but she wouldn’t.
‘You always do this, you know? No contact for months, don’t show up for the big things but the second there’s something that I can handle on my own you start poking your nose in.’
A gentle laugh caused a minute crack to appear in the blank face of the figure. The sand swirling around them stretched out a grainy tentacle to rebuild it. ‘I hardly think that’s fair. I only want to guide you, chicklet. I wouldn’t get involved. I can’t. I merely question your methodology.’
‘I know what I’m doing! I have a plan! It’s perfect, okay? This will make it real, this will prove that it’s real!’ She finally exploded, stamping at the hot desert beneath her. The dunes were getting brighter, sizzling with heat. They didn’t have much time left.
‘And I know that. And I appreciate that. And it’s a very noble self-sacrifice you’re making. I’d be proud, if it was necessary. But you’re just wasting everybody’s time here, chicklet.’
‘You don’t know that!’ She spun around on her heel. It was starting to blister and bubble from the waves of heat coming off of the ground below her.. ‘We’re done here.’
A hand cupped her face. Rough and white-hot, yet still recognisable. Still in her memories.
‘We need to talk about your love life, Roxie.’
‘I don’t want to, Mom.’

They say the first step to getting over a breakup is to find a way to discard their possessions or anything that reminds you of the person you’re missing. You can give them back, sell them on the sly, chuck them in a skip. It doesn’t matter, just get them out of your sight. Todd Ingram was living in the trailer in which he and Wallace had had sex in for the first time, and pretty much every time after that. So, not a great start, but progress was there. He had stopped wearing Wallace’s leftover T-shirt to bed (he had finally stretched it out and broke it and cried for a few hours and then hidden it underneath his pillow to use later) and he was no longer wanted by the police for unlawful residence in a stolen film trailer since he had paid off the studio, something he had neglected to do for several weeks because he had been too busy crying, jacking off, and crying whilst jacking off. He had eaten a salad the other day. His pizza yesterday had been vegetarian. Progress comes in baby steps, after all.
Todd wasn’t really in the headspace for a very complicated plan right now, so Roxie had dumbed it down for him. He was almost definitely going to be useless for Kim in his current state regardless, so all he really needed was incentive not to be generous, incentive she had found, or rather taken, a few days ago.
‘In this envelope lies everything a pathetic, broken homo such as yourself could ever need.’ she boasted as she slapped a thick brown seal onto the plastic table Todd had set up outside his trailer as a garden/lounge area. ‘The grainiest, most stalkerish, shittest and lowest quality photos of Wallace Wells going about his day that I could possibly take! And it’s yours, if you just keep Pines in the dark about me. Capeachy?’
Ewwwwwww, he was actually licking his lips. That was, that’s fucking gross. She had joked to herself that he might on the way over but he was actually doing it and it was super fucking weird. ‘Is he, uhhh, what’s he doing in them? Can I see?’
‘No sampling. Delivery upon completion of your super simple and super important task, okay?’ She snatched the envelope off the table. He had quick hands. Lucky Wallace.
Todd scratched at his head. ‘I’m like, really unsure about this Roxie. It seems, you know…’
‘Mean? Are you going to say mean? You soft ass bitch.’
‘No, no! Boring! This is boring! Why can’t you just kill her if you want her to leave you alone?’
Roxie chewed at her lip in irritation. She had spotted a gang of those Nerds circling around earlier and was eager to get this over and done with before they got brave. ‘Because I don’t want her to leave me alone. I want… it’s complicated and none of your business and also you are a gay, drooling, perverted man who cannot understand the deeper, complex love that can only come from lesbianism.’
‘I thought you were bisexual’ he sneered.
‘Say that again and I burn this fucking envelope. That was one time in high school, you fat fuck.’
Todd immediately teared up like a baby. ‘No no no no no oh my god don’t burn it, fuck you’re such a fucking bitch I’m sorry.’
‘Good boy.’
He dabbed at his eyes with his hands. ‘Can I see, just one picture, to get myself… going?’
Roxie resisted the urge to puke. ‘Okay, fine’, she relented. It wasn’t going to be one of the good ones though.
She briefly leafed through the many, many photos inside the envelope before producing a photo of Wallace, clearly taken at some distance, fumbling with his keys and bags of groceries at the same time. Roxie’s best guess was Scott was somewhere inside, not helping.
Todd’s demeanour changed entirely, tears gone and replaced with a sudden manic enegery. He zipped up from his chair and rushed for the photo, but she just about managed to roll out of the way, causing him to trip on the chair she was perched on.
‘Wow. You are a sexual deviant. But, you know, you do you I guess. Will you help me now?’
‘Okay. Okay I can do this.’ He picked himself off the floor and started to hype himself up, punching the air and breathing rapidly. The effect was ruined by the ratty, stained dressing gown and wife beater he was wearing but Roxie decided points for enthusiasm went a long way.
‘You got this, Ingram. Knock 'em dead.’ she cheered sarcastically.
‘Okay. Okay. I’m coming, Wallace babe. I’m coming.’
Ewwwwwwwwwwwwww.

Todd’s trailer had been dragged, in the middle of the night by Todd and the rest of the League, to a sort of abandoned industrial lot type deal in the middle of fucking nowhere. It was so super annoying to find. Ramona had known the vague area since she had briefly been a part of the police investigation, in which she had given a character report on Todd as a sick and twisted little man who was probably too stupid to figure out how to lift the fucking thing, but that hadn’t been a huge help. Kim had been forced to pick through this absolute wasteland for about an hour before she had just followed the vague sounds of emo rock. Now she was sitting on a very uncomfortable plastic seat as a sweaty, smelly man in a disgusting dressing gown eyed her like a piece of meat.
Roxie had better make this worth her while.
Todd took a long sip from a cheap looking beer. ‘So. Kim Pines.’
‘Todd. I don’t know your surname.’ She was starting to wish she had brought a knife.
‘What brings you to the Casa Amour?’ He tried a smile, but it came out as the grimace of someone who had recently shat themselves.
‘Oh. You know. Uh…’ The door to his trailer was open a crack. Kim caught a glimpse of his bass guitar inside, resting against the closet. He had carved ‘WW + TI 4EVA’ into it. She bit back a snort of laughter. ‘I was, uhhh, asking about Roxie.’
‘Roxie? Don’t know her. She a friend of yours?’
‘Um, what? No, like, Roxie. From the League. Of Evil Exes.’
Silence.
‘She’s the chick?’ Kim suggested speculatively.
‘Ohhhhhhh, you mean Roxy!’
‘No I don’t? Wait, do I?’
‘She was definitely Roxy for a little while.’
‘Okay. Well, I’m pretty sure she’s Roxie now.’
Kim had been practising calming techniques from Youtube. She was completely zen. He could not get to her. She had done so much yoga before coming out here, her back kinda hurt. But it was worth it, for the mental clarity.
‘Well. I don’t really know her. We’re like, coworkers. Coworkers who see each other very rarely. Like actors after a film. Although sometimes that isn’t always the case, you know. Sometimes it’s normal for actors to continue to hang out after a film is done. Maybe even, you know, every day. But I guess that’s too much to ask for me.’
The yoga had been a fucking waste of fucking time. This guy was worse than Lucas. At least he has been comprehensible, most of the time.
‘Right then. That’s, um, not relevant. At all. Not helpful. Not sure why you said that. Don’t. Stop it.’
‘Fine. Didn’t know you were my mum.’ he sulked. A grown man, sulking in front of her, picking at the hem of his dressing gown. It was almost really funny.
Kim took a deep breath, then continued. ‘Look. If you don’t know her, that’s fine. I admit it was a bit of a long shot. Just. Please. Tell me who might.’
Todd’s face visibly softened a touch. Maybe she was getting through to him. ‘I don’t know. Genuinely. After Scott fake died or whatever, the League’s been in a state of flux. We haven’t kept in touch much.’
‘Great. I should have known it’s all Scott’s fault.’
Todd’s head snapped upwards. ‘You know Scott? Like, you’re close with him?’
‘Define close man. We’re… we’re bandmates. We are in a band together.’
‘But Scott, he lives with Wallace, right? I remember that from the briefings.’
Kim’s gears started to turn. If she could incentivise this freak, he might do all the hard work for her. ‘Yeah. He still does. Why?’
‘Would you excuse me for a second?’
Todd suddenly ducked inside his trailer at near light speed. Kim could hear him vaguely rustling through drawers inside, before he came back outside carrying a roll of toilet paper. Hopefully from the bathroom and not his bedside table.
‘Yeah dude, sorry. Don’t know where Patel is or whatever you wanted.’ Todd was only half thinking about the words coming out his mouth, all his attention was on the toilet paper. He had pulled a Sharpie out of his dressing gown and was scribbling something down.
‘Oh. Okay. Thanks I guess man.’ Kim stood up to leave but Todd grabbed her arm.
‘Take an autograph for the road. Could be worth something.’ He desperately gestured towards the toilet paper.
‘I sure will, man. I loved your band.’ Kim replied as she tentatively took the paper.
‘Sick! Well. I gotta jet, very busy you see.’ Todd nodded as he ushered her away.

Suddenly, he whispered in her ear ‘Read the paper, then destroy it.’, before pushing her out the gate to his terrible field and darting back inside his trailer.

‘I’m not a natural born liar, Roxie. I panicked.’
Todd was sitting on the edge of his bed like a kid getting told off, because he was. Roxie was less than impressed at his shit performance with Kim. ‘I thought you wanted to be an actor!’ and ‘Coworkers! I moved this piece of shit fucking trailer for you to call me a coworker!’ had been a few of her more repeatable attacks. Most of them were too homophobic to put to print. After a while, she had calmed down and admitted he had at least put Kim off the scent, but she was still visibly angry.
‘You’re not a natural anything, Todd. You’re all additives and carcinogens.’
‘You don’t even know what those are! You’ve never shown an interest in the dieting lifestyle!’
‘Why would I, Todd? I’m a ninja. I don’t need your cheap bullshit.’
Todd fingered at a small hole in his sheets. Everything reminded him of… not the time.
‘Anyway. I did what you wanted. She got nothing, okay? Can I have my pictures?’
Roxie seriously weighed it up in her mind. She was doing her thinking face, which Todd had only seen maybe two times before. Eventually, she fished the envelope out of her top and threw it at him. ‘Fine. Fucking fine, Ingram. But only because I can’t be bothered for you to try and become a vegan again and fight me for them later on. That would be really annoying.’
‘Yeah. That would suck. Um…’
‘Do you want me to leave you alone with them?’
‘If you could.’
‘Ew.’

Kim set off down the road for a couple minutes. After a while, she was confident she wasn’t being followed, so she fished the paper out of her pocket and peered at Todd’s terrible handwriting. In block capitals, it read simply:
ROXIE IS LISTENING. MEET ME BACK HERE 2NITE. 1AM

Chapter Text

Kim had known a girl from her university days who had a variety of irritating catchphrases that made it very hard to be her friend. She would say things like ‘Whoah! Thing alert!’ or ‘The whatever the fuck called, they want their stupid bullshit back.’ and then laugh like a goat. It was awful, but it was put-uppable with. Most of the time. There was one sentence in particular Kim was thinking about that had caused this recollection, one that was actually applicable to her current situation. ‘That’s the first time THAT’S ever been said!’. Because, it probably was. Nobody, ever, in the history of the world had said what she just said. 

‘I need to borrow Scott Pilgrim.’

For the second time in the last couple of days, Kim was back at Ramona’s, asking for her help. Kim hated asking people for anything, it had taken a crisis of mentality late at night to push her to come here the first time, and she hadn’t even really considered that actually help. It was more like a question. Asking a question wasn’t asking for help. This, however, was slightly different. Still not asking for help, definitely not. That would never ever happen. Just… borrowing. Like if she asked her for new drumsticks, which she needed. 

Ramona was in her pyjamas and not happy. It was pretty late to be fair, around 11 at night. Kim was probably pretty lucky she wasn’t already asleep.

‘Okay then Kim. Again, hi, first of all. You’re bad at saying hi. Second of all, I don’t want to give you Scott. He’s mine. He might not even be home, you don’t know.’

Kim knew she was in the wrong but she couldn’t stop herself raising an eyebrow like a sarky bitch. ‘He waved at me out the window when I rang the doorbell.’

‘Fucking…’ Ramona chewed her lip. ‘I’m trying to get him to be more competent socially. Saying please and thank you. You know, all that stuff.’

‘Is he your boyfriend or your dog? You’re always trying to teach him things.’

‘We have a perfectly reciprocal relationship actually. Keep your judgement to yourself, Pines.’ 

Kim took a step back. ‘Jeez, sorry. I was only joking.’

Ramona’s stern expression faltered slightly. ‘No, I’m being a bitch. I think it’s because I’m in a very overprotective stage with him.’

‘Protective? Of Scott?’ Kim chuckled. ‘I think he’ll be fine. Fighting’s the only thing he’s good at, you know. He doesn’t need you holding his hand.’

‘That’s not true! He’s a good bassist.’ 

‘Mediocre at best.’

‘Okay… maybe. But he can draw now! We took a class.’

‘Yeah, I’m sure.’

‘No, actually, wait a second.’

Ramona ducked back inside the house, leaving Kim to wait in the cold. She wondered if it was even worth it at this point. Maybe Knives would have been a better idea?

‘Look at this.’ Ramona was back, waving a scrapbook around in Kim’s face. ‘He drew me the other day, when we went to the class. It’s good, right?’

‘Ramona, I’m sure he’s the world's best artist or whatever, a regular Picasso, but respectfully I kinda don’t….’ She trailed off as she got a look at the drawing. ‘Oh, that’s actually quite good.’

‘I know, right?’

‘Yeah, this is some pretty good linework actually. Very detailed for a beginner. Is this all with pencil?’

‘Yup. Next week is all about colours and shit so he’s gonna fill it in. I have no idea what he’s gonna do with my hair though.’

‘To be fair, neither do you.’

Ramona giggled. 

‘Okay, that’s surprising and all, but I do still need his help.’ 

‘You haven’t told me what for. Is he gonna be out late? We were gonna watch Final Destination tonight.’ Ramona picked the drawing back out of Kim’s hands. She hadn’t even noticed she was still looking at it.

‘Yeah. Sorry. I need him for protection.’ Kim showed Ramona Todd’s toilet paper note. ‘I’m not going to that part of town at 1am by myself Ramona. Please?’ It was a tough word for her to say, but getting mauled to death by wild dogs or whatever would be tougher.

Ramona sighed. ‘I GUESS I can't say no.’ She smiled. It was a soft smile, nice and kind. Kim didn’t see many like it these days. ‘You’re really putting in the work for her, aren’t you?’ 

‘Yeah, well. It’s this or talk to my flatmates.’

‘It’s cute. I hope it works out. I’ll go fetch Scott.’

The walk back to Todd’s wasn’t as hard with Scott there, painful as it was to admit. She had found an old black hoodie in the back of her wardrobe that hid her face pretty well and Scott had seen a little bit of sense and worn his most inconspicuous clothes as well, plus a baseball cap pulled over his face. They probably looked like delinquents to anyone who would have seen them, but the streets were pretty empty. A few animals scurried around the bins and trees, but no people.

Kim was weighing up having to talk to Scott. They still had a fair way to go, but the journey over had been done in silence. Maybe he didn’t want to talk to her. Kim bit her lip. A conversation with Scott… it would be miserable as always. But maybe it would stop her being so nervous? Fuck it.

‘You don’t have to come inside, by the way. I can handle it. You’re just the muscle.’

Scott sort of deflated with relief. ‘Oh thank God. I didn’t want to fight Todd today. I ate a really big chicken for lunch and I feel kinda ill.’

‘You ate a whole chicken?’ she asked incredulously.

‘Yeah. Ramona cooked it. I made the salad though. The dressing was from scratch!’

‘Ramona’s too nice to you.’ she scowled. 

‘I know.’

Kim snuck a glance at him. He was looking, well, contemplative. Something he never looked. Kim didn’t even know he could self-reflect. It didn’t seem like something he even should be able to do. It was kind of creepy. Ramona was making him into a whole new person.

‘Scott, man. Listen to me, okay? Don’t fuck this up. Don’t you dare. Because she’s the best thing that will ever happen to you. I’m so serious. You cannot fuck this up, you just can’t.’ 

‘Yeah. I know.’ 

‘Do you really?’

‘Yeah.’

Kim took another look at his face. It was oddly solemn. His brow was furrowed in contemplation.

‘Okay. I believe you.’

The city of Toronto is a dangerous place. If you step out of the kitschy confines of the public hub and find yourself wandering down an unlit back alley, you will get yourself into some serious trouble. One wrong move and you’re somebody’s bus fare. So it wasn’t necessarily out of the ordinary that, whilst our heroes make their way to their secret meeting not four blocks away, a man was fighting for his life. 

He had been beaten quite severely by this point. A deck of cards, flung at almost impossible speeds, had cut his cheek open and scratched his arms raw. The fact that they were Magic the Gathering cards only added humiliation to the physical pain. His assailant was unharmed, saved for a broken pair of prescription glasses. 

Our unnamed victim, who will become $4.97 by the end of this encounter and be used to pay for a meatball sandwich that tastes like shit, is not a fighter. He’s holding a bike lock he was lucky enough to find discarded on the floor, but he won’t make contact with it once. The man attacking him, a high ranking Nerd footsoldier, is as skilled as he is lame. He’s also a filthy, disgusting cheat. He brought a gun, just in case. He can lie all he wants and say it's modelled after the E-11 from Star Wars so it’s fine, but he knows the Nerds are a group that live and die by hand-to-hand combat. There’s a reason he keeps it in a (and he never fails to feel queasy when he says this) Toronto Blue Jays backpack. What self-respecting Nerd would be caught dead wearing sportsball shit? 

The same kind that would be caught alive with a gun. 

Our victim, for the record, is a nobody. Wrong place, wrong time, wrong limited edition Mask of Majora sneakers. You have absolutely no choice but to kill a man for kicks that clean. He would never give them up willingly. Phones and wallets come and go, but semi-ironic hipster swag is forever. 

The Nerd with the gun is Marcus, of course. It literally couldn’t be anyone else. If you didn’t see that coming, I’ve got a left-handed screwdriver I can sell you for the low low price of 50 bucks. So when Marcus, bored of this whole affair, reaches into his backpack, pulls out his gun, shoots this poor guy dead, steals his shoes and uses his corpse to give himself a mild case of indigestion, don’t hold it against him. This was the only way this was ever going to go. The road has already been built for him, he has no choice but to walk it. And when he does, at least he’ll be doing it in some cool new shoes. 

And when the security camera of the sandwich shop, proudly emblazoned with the logo of GGG Heavy Industries, watches him leave as he holds his stomach and complains to nobody in particular, its light flashing a cold blue, know that Marcus, for all his sins, is far from the face of Toronto’s issues with violence. 

Crime is a top-down business. 

Marcus Nabers, still doggedly eating a sandwich he knew would give him the shits later, made it all the way back to Nerd HQ (A board game shop. Obviously) without having to kill anybody else. As always, he dumped his backpack in the recycling bin outside to avoid awkward questions, told the greasy teenager behind the desk his password and headed towards the basement. It was pretty empty at this time of night. Most of the other Nerds were either out on patrol or asleep. A few bored looking HQ guards were silently playing Melee in the corner. One of them, an older guy with twists in his beard, craned his neck back to look at Marcus as he entered, never pausing the game. 

‘Hey. You’re not supposed to be back yet.’

Marcus waved his new shoes in the guards face. ‘I got valuables, Tarky. Zelda kicks.’

‘Oh, sweet! Where’d you get those?’

‘Some guy in our neighbourhood.’ Marcus shrugged. ‘Gave them right up when I asked. It’s always nice when they do that. I’m way too tired to fight today.’

‘Yeah, boss will love those.’ Tarky had managed to win his game without looking at the screen, which his opponent found intensely annoying. He muttered something under his breath about broken stupid fucking piece of shit games and stomped off to a large rack of comics in the corner. 

‘Is he in right now?’

‘Was last time I checked.’

‘Thanks, Tarky.’

Marcus tucked the shoes under his arm until Tarky turned around, then hid them under a table with a half-finished game of Catan on the top. Once he was sure they were safely out of view, he strode over to a large, red door at the back of the basement and knocked once. It was all that was needed for the door to swing open.

Chapter Text

Todd had been pacing the confines of his trailer for the past two hours. This was impressive in a way, as trailers aren’t really built for pacing. His massive frame made the thin metal creak as he spun in a tiny circle like a tiger in a zoo. 

He was right to be nervous. He was being watched. A tiny, almost imperceptible blue light shone from the inside of his laptop that lay open on his bed. Nobody involved here tonight would notice it, because it was designed by someone very good at making sure technology stayed hidden. But it would watch and record and feed the information back to a concerned third party, who was busy formulating a plan of attack. But that’s some later chapter shit.

When the knock came, Todd nearly genuinely pissed his pants. He hadn’t gone to the toilet all day because he didn’t want to be caught shitting when she came back, but now he really, really needed to piss. But when you live in a trailer, you can’t just go to the toilet whenever you have guests over, you either need to ask them to leave which is super embarrassing or just deal with the fact that they can hear you pissing and maybe even shitting because he had stress eaten a whole box of figs earlier? Todd didn’t even like figs but like, they were-

‘Dude! Open up! I can hear you creaking in there.’

‘Sorry.’ Todd flipped the door open. 

Kim was clearly annoyed, but Todd was also pretty sure her face was just like that. ‘I’m not going inside. You come out here.’

It was a fair request, but Todd was a dickhead. ‘No way. It’s freezing out there.’

‘Dude, we live in Canada. It’s always freezing. It’s not called the Great White North for nothing.’

Sighing heavily, Todd squeezed his way out of the trailer. The weight he had put on recently made moving a little more difficult than it used to be. He was painfully aware of a slight ripple underneath his thin t-shirt that was clearly obvious and embarrassing and something everybody noticed. 

‘Look dude, I don’t really know what I'm doing here and I kinda hate this neighbourhood so we can get this over with in five minutes max or I just leave now, capice?’ Kim sat down (without being offered a seat, Todd noted) and crossed her legs and arms in unison.

‘Yeah, yeah whatever. But you tell me what I want to know first.’ Todd leaned against his trailer, regretting it instantly as the metal buckled slightly.

Kim rolled her eyes, presumably her way of saying “sure”. 

‘Where is Wallace Wells?’

Kim ran a finger along his table, picking up a thin layer of grease and muck. ‘You won’t like the answer.’

‘I don’t care.’

Grimacing slightly, she wiped her hand against her jacket. ‘Fine. He’s in Germany.’

The metal of his trailer groaned stronger as Todd straightened suddenly. ‘What the fuck is he doing there?’

‘Travelling, shit for brains. He got his paycheck from that crappy movie you two did and fucked off immediately. Only thing I remember him saying is he’s on a European tour and Scott got a postcard a few days ago from Berlin.’

What Todd didn’t know was that the postcard in question also detailed a number of sordid, sexual encounters in a number of Berlin’s seedier nightclubs. Kim had decided it wasn’t strictly relevant.

‘What the fuck use to me is that? I gotta go learn Subspace or some shit to see him?’

‘Hey, douchebag, I answered your question. I even warned you. You got what you wanted, cough up.’

‘No way. Not good enough. I want good news.’ Todd pouted.

‘Jesus Christ man, how old are you?’

‘Old enough to beat your ass.’ Todd attempted to look threatening. It worked well enough for Kim to glance over towards the gate. Was she planning to run for it?

‘Okay man, whatever. I’ll answer one more question. ONE.’ 

Todd scratched at a small rash developing on his arm. 

‘I don’t have all day, man.’ Kim was still glancing back towards the gate, where Scott was doing a not great job of hiding in the shadows. Enough to fool an idiot like Todd though.

‘Is there… like a guy?’

‘In Wallace’s life?’ Kim rolled her eyes. ‘Fuck man, I don’t know. We’re not like, friends like that. We’ve talked maybe five times. To be honest, I think he can be kind of a dick.’ 

Todd bared his teeth like a tiger. ‘Don’t talk about him like that.’ he snapped.

‘Touchy fucker. I gave you an honest answer. You go and find out yourself if you care so much.’

Todd hmphed. ‘Maybe I will.’

‘Okay then.’

They were silent for a moment. Police sirens howled in the distance. A slight breeze picked up, making Kim shiver in her seat. Todd didn’t move, he just stared at her.

‘Fine. Whatever. It’s my fault for thinking you’d be any use at all.’ Todd bit as his fingernails slightly. Was he nervous? Kim didn’t think he was capable. ‘You wanna know where Roxy is? I’ll play ball I guess.’

“Fucking finally” Kim thought to herself. Those sirens were getting closer. Probably some gang war or something else completely unrelated to her, but she had absolutely no desire to be anywhere close to the scene of the crime.

Todd stood in silence for a few more seconds, his eyes darting all over the courtyard. Kim bit her tongue and did a very good job of pretending like she didn’t want to hit him in the mouth until he started talking. Patience was a virtue.

‘Okay, we’re good.’ Todd grabbed a chair and sat next to her, practically burying his face in her ear as he started whispering. All of a sudden, he seemed incredibly rattled. Kim tried to block out his BO and his hot breath as he started talking.

‘A few days ago, Roxy came here, said you’d be here soon looking for her. I was supposed to distract you, keep you guessing or something, not scare you off exactly but be absolutely no help.’

Todd glanced over his shoulder again. His whole body was stiff. Satisfied once again, he pressed himself even closer into her ear. 

‘The fucking psycho bitch is following you or something. I don’t get it, don’t ask me to explain. But she’s following you. She wants you, dude. She’s probably watching us right now to be honest. I don’t know why, she’s fucking crazy. But she knows about you doing this and she’s plotting against you.’

The walk back to Kim’s house had been mainly silent. Scott had been house trained well enough to know not to say anything when Kim looked as angry as she currently did. There was steam rising off the top of her head, causing a light mist to follow them as they strolled and stomped respectively through the Toronto backstreets. 

After five minutes had passed, Scott’s need to talk overrode his survival instincts.

‘So-’

‘Don’t.’

That had put an end to any further plans.

When they got to Kim’s house, she finally acknowledged her de facto bodyguard with a curt ‘Bye.’ and a nod before she spun on her heel and slammed her front door in his face. Scott could hear her crash her way up her stairs, throw her door open and shake the whole house with the force of her closing it behind her.

‘What am I going to tell Ramona?’ he idly wondered to himself. 

Scott’s angel on his shoulder had been getting more of a workout than it was used to lately, but it mustered the strength to offer ‘Probably nothing, this seems personal.’

The devil on the other side, irritated at the lack of things he had been doing for himself, suggested he tell her everything, see if Ramona knew anything that would explain just exactly what the fuck was happening. 

Scott himself, the shittest mediator between his internal desires that the Great White North had ever seen, short circuited slightly. Neither option seemed to do anything good at all. Was running an option? No, Ramona would be mad at him. Would Wallace know? Maybe?

It was worth a shot. Scott fished his phone out of his pocket and started texting. 

SP - hey are you awake

The response came terrifyingly quickly.

WW - yes i never slept

WW - i was kept up all night by somebody in my room having sex

WW - the somebody was me 

SP - can you help me with something?

WW - im having a great time scott! Thx for asking!

SP - sry

SP - are you having a great time?

WW - …

WW - yes

WW - thx for asking

SP - okay cool 

SP - can you help me now?

WW - … sure

Kim’s notebook sat open on the desk in front of her. It has been filled with the names of people who might know where Roxy was. It had never occurred to her that she just had to check behind her. 

‘Stupid stupid idiot.’ Kim mumbled. 

She wasn’t going to cry, of course. She’d never let herself. Not whilst there was work to be done. 

Kim flipped to a new page, crossed out the speculative heading of ‘Roxy Leaves Toronto - ???’ and started writing.

When this was over, then she would cry.

Chapter Text

‘Do you want to talk about it, chicklet?’

Roxie’s mother was completely naked, as per usual, crouched in the sand with a finger tracing lines and patterns around her. Roxie subconsciously recognised a few of them, ancient mystical symbols of ninja power or what the fuck ever. She had never been too hot on all of the confusing lore. 

‘Probably why you won’t end up here when you check out.’ a little voice inside her reminded her. 

Roxie was sitting, as per usual again, back to back with her mother, skin pressed up against hers. She was naked as well, which is why she insisted on this particular seating arraignment. It was that Roxie hated being naked, but being naked in front of your mother was just weird and made it hard to have a real conversation. 

‘No. But I will.’ 

‘Sweetpea, you hold a lot of rage inside of you. You know that, right?’

‘Yeah? Well, you would too.’

‘Would I? Honey, I was twenty…two?’

Three.’

‘Twenty three once. You’re hardly the first young woman to ever have a hard time, but the difference is the rest of us just got on with it. Life happens, chicklet.’

‘You never dated Ramona Flowers, Mom. You never got sucked into the whole bullshit with the League and everything. You never had to meet Scott Pilgrim.’

‘I’ve met worse than Scott Pilgrim in my time, young lady. He’s not even the worst Scott Pilgrim I know of.’

‘Whoop de fuck. Did you want to actually help me or what?’

‘Please, stop with the vulgarity. It hurts your romantic potential.’ 

Roxie had to dig her finger through the sand to stop herself from freaking out. ‘Romantic potential? Mom, stop saying odd shit like that. Please?’

Mama Richter sighed dramatically. ‘I only mean-’

‘I know what you mean.’

‘Oh, very well. But it is hard to help you when you insist on policing what I can and can’t say like that.’

Roxie stayed quiet this time. It was the only way to get her mother to actually do the thing she said she would do, no outside distractions. 

Eventually, when it became clear that nothing else would happen that she could latch on to, Roxie’s mother began to talk. 

‘First of all, I want to be honest with you. I think you could do better than this ‘Kim’. She seems a little, well, vulgar. Disheveled. Unathletic. You know, not somebody you can carry on a ninja dynasty with. Of course, in those kinds of relationships you’re fond of I suppose genetics don’t play as much of a part but nevertheless, how would she keep up with even an adopted ninja child? It would be an embarrassment.’

Roxie’s face burned hotter than the sand. Her mother was such a-

‘And before you say a thing Roxanne, just know that I don’t say this out of spite or to be mean or anything ridiculous like that. I’m sure this Kim could find somebody right for her, I just don’t think that person is you. A ninja, you know?’

‘Yes, Mom.’ It was useless to argue with her. Just let her get her old woman ramblings out of the way and try and sift through the wreckage for anything usable.

‘Secondly, this strategy of yours? Running around with your friends from the League, snooping and spying from fences and whatnot? It’s ridiculous and unbecoming of a woman in your position. A Richter should be more confident for goodness sake. When your father was courting me-’

‘Moooom!’

‘Be quiet Roxanne. You wanted my advice.’

‘You wanted to give it to me more like.’ Roxie muttered.

‘Either way. You allow your mother to finish. Anyway, when your father was courting me, he didn’t dance around the question. He came up to me and asked me to accompany him to the pictures.’

‘The pictures? Christ you are old.’

‘Roxanne. No more distractions. You’lll miss the point. I’m just trying to let you know that all of these games and whatnot are childish at best. You’re just getting in your own way. And for her of all people, I mean really sweetpea. You can do better, you know?’

‘Oh yeah? What if I don’t want to do better? What if I want what I want, huh?’

‘Then you’re a fool. I mean, even with the weight-’

‘Mom!’ Roxie couldn’t resist slapping the ground in frustration. 

‘Well really, chicklet. I just want you to be healthy.’

‘How ironic.’ 

‘Roxanne. You’re getting hysterical, please. I’m only trying to help you, really. ‘

‘I don’t remember asking for your help, Mom!’ Sand was starting to pick up now as the two argued. A handful of grains swirled around Roxie’s head, threatening to scratch at her again. 

‘Roxanne. If you’re going to take that attitude with me-’

‘You’ll what? Make my tables float?’ Roxie was past angry now. ‘You know I told Kim you lived in Tampa, right? How do you think that felt?’

‘We’re done talking. You can go home now.’ Sand swirled around Roxie as her mother raised her hand, twisting the dunes around her to form a cocoon.

‘Fine with me! But next time you want to stick your nose in, just remember you’re supposed to be dead!’

And then the sand closed around Roxy’s head and she was gone. 

- - - 

Roxie woke up with a ringing in her ears and sand in her mouth. Spirit realm ninja Heaven bullshit made no sense to her at the best of times, but the insistence of its supposedly magical sand to travel back with her was particularly confusing. Wasn’t it supposed to be like, the bones of ninjas long gone? 

The hotel room she was borrowing for the time being had stunk of stale cigarettes and dried beer stains from the second she stepped into it, but now the distinct stench of the desert clung to the walls, hot and dusty. It was only due to her current status as Nerd Enemy Number Two (Number One being showers) that she was hiding in such a dive rather than somewhere a little more upmarket. 

Roxie, trying to ignore the smells, rolled over in bed and groped for the bedside clock. 12:47pm. Not too bad. 

A little chime from her phone caught her attention before she could get started with flopping out of bed and getting dressed. Someone saved in her phone as ‘CSG’ was interested in meeting up this weekend. 

Roxie itched her chin. CSG? It sort of rung a bell but also sort of didn’t.

Whatever. Probably didn’t matter.

By the time Roxie was dressed and outside, the mysterious CSG had sent her four more texts. One was a really lame joke about cigarettes, one was a prayer that it wasn’t a fake number he was texting, one was just ‘Hellooooooooooo’ and the final one was a sad emoji. Roxie wasn’t particularly interested in solving this little mystery, although it was weird that this guy seemed to have her number for real. 

Didn't matter. She was busy. 

Her best course of action was to go to the video store. Kim was apparently busy trying to find her but that didn’t stop her from needing to pay rent and everything. Failing that, it wouldn’t be that hard to find her house, some basic reconnaissance methods would do the trick. 

The question was: what to say? ‘Sorry for making you run around in circles for seven or so chapters, I thought it would be funny’? ‘I wanted you to pass some inscrutable test’? ‘I wanted to prove my bitch mom wrong’?  Maybe the truth would be the better option. She wasn’t really a good enough liar to consider any alternative. 

Roxie pulled her hood up as a young woman across the road stared at her for just a second too long. There weren’t many girls in the Nerds, but you never knew. Best to be safe. Didn’t wanna risk those stupid dorks ruining her big apology. 

Spying the perfect disgusting alley, Roxie slipped out onto the street (much to the dismay of all the cars driving along it) and hurried through the fresh slate of snow, moving as fast as she could without leaving footprints. This Subspace door wasn’t the smoothest ride but walking normally had lost all its appeal. Roxie, for the first time in a while, was starting to get bored of fighting. There must be more to this city than just constant sword/lightsaber duels. 

As she slipped through the back door of an abandoned restaurant and disappeared from view, the figure on the road who was actually watching her and doing a very good job of not being noticed spun on his heels and walked away. 

- - - 

Throughout this whole endeavour, all the running back and forth between Scott and Lucas and Todd, Kim Pine had still been going to work. Work was boring as hell so she had spent her days in a kind of walking coma, but she was actually physically present in the building and that accounted for enough to receive regular, pitiful paychecks. Holly wasn’t happy with her, but who gives a shit about Holly?  She doesn’t matter. 

Kim was basically half asleep when the shop door rang and a young man with a Toronto Blue Jays backpack and thick, nerdy spectacles walked up to the front counter. 

‘Hi.’ He waved awkwardly. 

‘Welcome to In-n-Out Video, can I help you?’  Kim responded, eyes still glazed over. 

The man’s brow furrowed. ‘Uh, okay, yeah. I was wondering if you had any seasons of Batt-’

Kim waved vaguely at the back of the store. ‘Sci-fi’s in that far corner.’ 

‘Yeah. Okay.’ 

The man shuffled off and left Kim in despondent peace again. 

What was Roxie up to? Probably fighting some bad guys or hanging out with the League or whatever. Kim scratched at the countertop as she let her mind drift to the image of Roxie swordfighting with some samurai or whatever. There was a groove in the counter she was really managing to turn into an actual crack whilst she daydreamt. 

Daydreaming was her biggest weapon these days. The search for Roxie was in serious trouble considering Roxie didn’t actually WANT to be found. As if Kim had any hope of tracking down a ninja in a city as big as Toronto.

The bell rang again and Kim managed to get her eyes focused ahead of her. Or at least, she thought she did. She was still probably daydreaming because it really looked like Roxie was standing in front of her. 

‘Heya Pines.’ 

Oh. 

Kim’s nail shattered as she dug it into the countertop. All she could squeak out was ‘Hi?’

‘Hi.’ Roxie looked a little sheepish, an expression that really didn’t fit on her face. ‘Long time no Kim.’ 

‘Yeah. Um. It’s been a while I guess.’ Kim was trying to force any words she could out of her mouth whilst her brain slowly chugged into gear. ‘So, like, uh, wassup?’

Roxie’s hands were twisted into her hair as she answered. ‘I, well, I wanted to apologise. For not being honest. Or like, not really for not being honest. But for not being like, good at talking.’

‘It’s fine. I think.’ It wasn’t. 

‘Yeah, sure. I don’t believe you. I’m just saying, like, you know…’ Roxie tailed off.

‘Tell me what?’ Now the shock was wearing off, Kim felt a little seed of anger start blooming in her chest. This bitch had made her run all across Toronto, made her hang out with Todd and Lucas and Scott fucking Pilgrim, for what? Because they met two times and made out once? 

‘I want you to chase me.’ 

Kim could taste blood in her mouth. ‘Excuse me?’

‘You. Chasing me. It’s fun. I like it. Keep it up. And maybe, when you catch me, if you catch me I mean, or actually I mean if I let you catch me, there might be a reward for you.’ 

Roxie’s voice was confident and her eyes were steel all of a sudden. Kim was suddenly, deeply aware that she was playing a game that she had absolutely no say over the rules of. 

But it was fun wasn’t it? 

Kim tried her best to return Roxie’s steel. ‘You’re on, bitch. Don’t take it easy on me.’

Roxie grinned, teeth bared like a shark. ‘Sweet. I’ll see you around, Pines. But you won’t see me.’ 

And when Kim blinked, she was gone. 

Kim blinked again. And then a third time. Roxie didn’t magically reappear, of course. That wouldn’t be the game. That wasn’t how we were going to do things. 

Fucking awesome. More chasing around, more awful irritating League members, more puzzles and more crying. Back to Square One essentially. 

Kim didn’t stop smiling for the rest of her shift. 

- - - 

Marcus, or CSG as you might have forgotten he was called, had absolutely no idea what the hell those two chicks were even talking about. His best guess was that the clerk at this ratty video store was in some sort of competition with Roxie, but it sounded like it wasn’t going well for either of them. 

Marcus shook his head as he slipped out of the back door. Women had their own world and anyone unlucky enough to start living in it would certainly lose their goddamn mind. 

Still, his fellow Nerds would appreciate the DVDs he stole and his boss would appreciate the information he had acquired. 

And he would break Roxie down eventually, he was sure of it. He had too much natural charm, right? Everyone loves a Battlestar Galactica fan. 

Marcus licked his lips as a young man, fresh Star Trek: The Next Generation t-shirt proudly on full display, appeared from out of a nearby barbershop and made the ultimately fatal mistake of walking down a secluded alley. 

He could check in with his boss in a while. 

- - - 

Later on that night, Roxie would toss and turn in her icky hotel bed, caught between sleep and consciousness. Her mind was racing with the idea that she had just made a catastrophic misplay. Had she severely overestimated Kim’s interest in her? It had been a bold statement for sure, too bold maybe? Was it lame, corny, whatever? What if Kim actually real life sucked balls at finding her and Roxie would have to just give up and try and talk to her normally? The thought was too terrifying to bear. 

At times like this, it would be nice to have someone to talk to, someone on her side. A mother perhaps

But Roxie’s mother was dead. And nothing could change that.

 So she tossed and turned and turned and tossed all night long, the blue light from her room’s TV washing over her until finally, she laid still and drifted off.