The Undoing of Sidekicks | ✓

twenty two

(a/n: here we go guys — the update, at last! dedicated to MaggieSparkz for the amazing support. much thanks <3)

twenty two

I HAD MUCH OF THE sensations of a bad date running rampant through my body. The light queasy churn of my stomach, the whiplash of doubts in my head, the sheen of nervous sweat on the back of my neck — oh, and the certainty that my company was subpar. 

Well, not Blaze, really. Just Mistress, who may or may not show up any second now.

Josh crouched beside me on the rooftop, boots dug into the gravel. My eyes skirted over his figure, studied the relaxed slope of his shoulder, the calm on his face. 

Despite his fiery powers, he sure had an icy complexion in the face of danger. Since our chat atop the garage the other night, we hadn't really interacted. We'd met up at a designated spot around an hour before Zazu anticipated the delivery was to be made, and we'd spent the rest of the time with a tense silence enshrouding our vicinity. 

I almost — almost — wanted to offer a comment on the weather, just to break the silent veil that dampened our spirits. I was unsure how he wanted to act, and I was sure he was questioning my allegiances. The underlying doubts regarding our loyalties simmered dangerously, and I wondered if that was one factor which might return to bite us in the ass. 

And I very much like my behind the way it is. Intact, that is. 

 I wasn't above some self-flattery. 

I snuck another glance at Josh, who remained silent beside me. I wondered if his head was as silent as his exterior, or if he, too, sifted through a shocking amount of worried, frantic thoughts. None of that seemed to matter anymore though, as both of our heads whipped around at the sound of an engine sputtering through the street below us. 

Sneaking a glance over the edge of the roof, I saw nothing but a normal cab, passing way above the legal limit as it shot by the street below.  

"Just a speeder," I offered, shaking my head. Josh nodded, returning to his focused silence. I craned my neck, observed him, "Are you nervous?" 

"Aren't you? I'd wager it's normal." asked Josh in turn, to which I shrugged. 

"Fair enough." This time, Josh's eyes lifted to meet mine. 

"What's the plan, then? Grab a sample of the chemical agent, then run? Stay and fight?" 

It sunk in, then — that Josh was asking me for directions. 

Are we ... are we actually actively collaborating? Insane. 

"Do you Dynamo-types usually plan these things, or what?" 

Josh raised a brow, hair shifting in the wind. 

"You don't?" 

"I just wing it." I shrugged, again, eyes darting to the street below. 

"I wouldn't call your back-up and the drone-stuff 'winging it'." Sarcasm clung to Josh's tone, and I quirked a smile in response.