Juliette stood off to one side, wearing a Velo-brand coat and turtleneck sweater that matched the texture and color of the wool cap she wore, her hands in her pockets. Her hair was straight, her eye shadow blue, and her expression deadpan cold. Amias was sitting on her shoulders, leaning forward in a way that pushed the hat slightly askew. The only thing keeping Amias perched where he was was Amias, because Juliette wasn’t putting in much effort.

Tattletale shrugged. “Sure. We do need to have a conversation sometime about how you want rides places, you want clothes bought for you, which is kid treatment, but you want to be considered ‘old enough’.”

“It’s the benefit of being a teenager,” Juliette said, deadpan.

“Benefit of being the not-your-mom adult in the room? I can say no.”

“Does being really good at helping out with the cape stuff help?” Juliette asked. “I can kill someone if you need someone dead.”

“I want to see less people dead, not more,” Tattletale replied.

“I can promise to try to kill less people if I can keep getting the best of both worlds. Rides, clothes, and missions.”

“You’re supposed to be Imp’s headache, not mine. Let’s just get through tonight.” Tattletale said. Weary, she said, “We’ll talk to Imp about it, another time.”

“We shouldn’t split up any more than we already have,” Capricorn said, his voice quiet. “Not when they’d be happy to catch some of us alone.”

He was clicking through the channels. It was only static and blank images.

“Mm hmm,” Tattletale made a noise.

Darlene clasped her hands together, staring down at them. Her focus, though, was on Aiden.

“I could say I’m going no matter what,” Aiden said.

“We could,” Darlene added.

Aiden put out his hand. It took her a second to realize she was supposed to give him a fist bump. She did, glancing his way, then turned her eyes back to Tattletale as the hands made contact. She could feel his hand, feel her own hand, and as he continued to move his hand, moved hers to mirror. Fist bump to high five to finger-wiggles to backwards high five. Their hands flipped around to a brief hand hold, her idea, then pulled away, tips of their middle fingers brushing against palm, then middle finger, bent just enough that they caught at the tips. A small songbird was already flying down, perching on the outstretched fingers. It peeped, wings spreading as it flapped dramatically without taking off.

Ninety-five percent of it without looking at each other. Darlene broke into the silliest smile, and there was nothing anyone could say to make it budge.

Tattletale folded her arms. “I have to admit, that was cool.”

Aiden was smiling behind his mask. He puffed up like he did, chest out and forward, trying to stand straighter. The bird on their fingers took off.