The morning sun filtered through the windows of Jay's favorite café, casting golden streaks across worn vinyl booths and chipped Formica tables. Jay sat in his usual corner spot, fingers drumming absently against his coffee cup as he watched the door.
His mind wandered to the previous night's events. The Morlock situation had progressed better than expected—Masque was already deep into his supervised restoration work, and the transformation in community morale was remarkable. Children who had hidden their faces for years were now volunteering to help with tunnel maintenance, eager to contribute while they waited their turn for appearance correction.
Everything is aligning just as planned — and in the process, he's secured himself a super group that now owes him more than they realize.
But it was the technical breakthrough that really excited him. The fusion of his Power Theft ability with Leech's suppression field had created something unprecedented. The implications were staggering.
More importantly, he'd discovered something crucial about power compatibility. The fusion had worked because both abilities were fundamentally about removal or taking—theft and suppression were just different expressions of the same underlying concept. Finding new fusions was now basically a matter of permutation and combination.
The enhancement procedure with Reed and Hank was scheduled for a month from now. Everything hinged on that working perfectly.
Also, Bobby's people had run the checks. Felicia Hardy was clean—just another seventeen-year-old with a Thief for a father and an attitude problem. Right now, she was just a kid. Whatever she'd become later, that was still years away. Which meant Tychokinesis was out of the question, which made this meeting all the more important.
The door chimes jingled, and Jay looked up to see exactly who he'd been waiting for.
Domino stepped into the diner with the fluid grace of someone perpetually ready for trouble. She was striking in an unconventional way—chalk-white skin marked by a distinctive black circle around her left eye that gave her face an asymmetrical beauty. Her short black hair was styled with casual ease, and she wore dark jeans with a fitted leather jacket that suggested both style and practicality. Most people would see her as an unconventional, attractive woman in her late twenties. Jay saw something far more valuable.
She scanned the room with practiced efficiency before her eyes settled on him. A slight smile played at the corners of her mouth as she approached his booth.
"Let me guess," she said, sliding into the seat across from him, "you're the one who's been asking around about me."
"Guilty as charged." Jay signaled the waitress. "I recommend the pancakes. They're the best thing on the menu."
"Pancakes, huh?" Domino leaned back, studying him with pale blue eyes that missed nothing. "Not exactly the breakfast of mysterious benefactors. You sure you're not just some guy with a weird fetish for syrup?"
Jay laughed. "Fair question. But no—I'm Jay, and I'm here because I know about your particular talents, and I need them for something delicate."
The casual atmosphere shifted imperceptibly. Domino's posture remained relaxed, but her weight shifted to the balls of her feet, hands positioning for quick movement. She was sizing him up.
"My talents," she repeated carefully. "Most people wouldn't pay triple rates for basic merc work."
"You're right—I'm after a special talent of yours which most people would call impossible luck." Jay kept his voice conversational, but watched her reaction closely. "In a month, I'm undergoing a medical procedure that's... a bit risque."
Domino's eyebrows rose slightly. She hadn't expected such directness. "That's either very clever research or a very lucky guess."
"I don't believe in lucky guesses. I believe in preparation and the right tools for the job. You're the right tool."
The waitress appeared with coffee and a notepad. "What'll it be, hon?"
"Pancakes for both of us," Jay said without breaking eye contact with Domino. "Extra syrup."
When they were alone again, Domino leaned forward slightly. "Okay, I'll bite. What's the job, and what's the pay?"
"The pay is excellent, a hundred and fifty thousand for a month of your time. As for the job..." Jay paused, choosing his words carefully. "I need you available on-call. Think of it as providing moral support for my procedure."
"Moral support." Her tone was flat. "For fifty grand."
"For being present during critical moments."
Domino studied him for a long moment, then extended her hand across the table. "You've got yourself a deal, Doc. As long as the money's real and I don't get permanently hurt."
Jay reached out to shake her hand, already focusing on his power. The moment their skin would make contact, he'd get his first real sample of probability manipulation—
His Danger Sense exploded.
The instant his fingertips grazed Domino's skin, it went haywire.
Everything that could kill him lit up at once. His brain couldn't filter it out—every threat hit him like a sledgehammer to the skull.
The spilled coffee by the kitchen turned into a slip-and-die trap. He could already feel his head cracking against the tile.
The frayed power cord behind the espresso machine sparked and hissed, ready to fry him where he stood.
That ceiling beam creaked like it was about to give up and bury him in splinters and plaster.
The couple arguing three booths down—their voices getting sharper, the guy's fists starting to clench. Violence was about to spill everywhere.
His head pounded with overlapping warnings. Too much input. Too many ways to die. The café felt like a minefield, and he'd just stepped on the first wire.
Touch her and everything wants you dead.
Jay jerked his hand back as if burned, coffee sloshing from his cup. "Sorry, I—"
He tried to suppress his Danger Sense, but couldn't as the danger was that great.
He tried to activate his new Suppression ability, but just as the thought entered his mind the warning spiked even higher. Whatever his instincts were screaming about, attempting to interfere would make things infinitely worse.
Domino's hand remained extended, her expression shifting to one of mild concern. "You okay there? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Fine," Jay managed, his heart hammering against his ribs. "Just remembered something important I forgot to do."
The pancakes arrived, providing blessed distraction. Jay forced himself to take steadying breaths while Domino attacked her stack with the efficiency of someone who didn't take regular meals for granted.
"So," she said around a bite, "this moral support gig. I just need to be available when you call?"
"Essentially. A month of your time, minimal actual work required. You get paid whether I need you once or a dozen times."
"Easiest money I've ever made." She raised her coffee cup in a mock toast. "Here's to whatever crazy scheme you're running."
They finished breakfast with carefully neutral conversation. Jay paid the check and walked her outside, his Danger Sense still humming with low-level anxiety. As they stood on the sidewalk, an ambulance came screaming around the corner.
Jay's danger sense screamed again, but due to the already constant warnings, the vehicle seemed to appear from nowhere. He threw himself backward, feeling the wind from its passage ruffle his jacket as it missed him by inches.
For a moment, he was somewhere else entirely—lying burnt to pieces on asphalt while sirens wailed in the distance. He remembered how his previous life had ended.
"Jesus!" Domino grabbed his arm, steadying him. "Are you sure you're okay? That thing came out of nowhere."
Jay stared after the disappearing ambulance, pieces clicking together in his mind. If he'd stolen or suppressed her power back in the diner, if he'd been walking out here with probability manipulation, would his luck have been better or worse? His Danger Sense suggested worse—much worse. Which meant her field had been protecting her even before they'd made their deal.
But that level of probability manipulation was far beyond what Domino should be capable of. Even in the comics, her powers were limited, focused mainly on combat situations.
"I'm fine," he said finally. "Just thinking."
"Well, try not to think yourself into traffic. Bad for business."
[A/N]: I write across multiple fandoms. Support my writing and get early access to 20+ chapters, exclusive content, and bonus material at my P@treon - Max-Striker.