★ ＯＦＦＩＣＥ ＤＡＹＳ ★
Sonar, Phenomaman, Waterboy and Robert x F! Reader
Chapter 1: Babysitting
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Tags (for this chapter): sfw, suggestive (just some dialogues *coff coff* looking at you Sonar *coff coff*), swearing Summary: Z-Team's got a whole new dispatcher, poor guy doesn't know what he's got himself into applying for this job… oh, and Blonde Blazer asked you to help him out! wc: 9.9k (I swear I'm unable to write short chapters atp)
A.N. My first dispatch fic ever so I still have to understand characters’ personalities- hope this isn't too much ooc… decided to add also Waterboy since some of you requested him. Don't know how many chapters this fic will have. Enjoy!
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“Seriously?” A laugh slipped out as you skimmed through the documents Blonde Blazer, your superior, had just handed you from across her desk. “His parents must have hated him if they decided to name him Robert Robertson.”
“Please, I’m begging you, do not say that to his face,” she muttered, visibly embarrassed by your inappropriate comment about the new dispatcher who was supposed to arrive in about five minutes. “Anyway, like I said, all you have to do is show him around the branch, give him an idea of how things work… explain how the calls operate obviously, and maaaybe help him a little with the team and the first missions. After that, you can go back to your own team.”
“Right… and knowing you, you’ve conveniently placed him at the station right next to mine, haven’t you?” You raised an eyebrow, meeting Mandy’s blue eyes. You knew her too well, you could read her thoughts just by looking at her expression. “Typical.”
“No, seriously- I genuinely think you’ll be a great guide for him.” She reached across the desk to take your hands in hers, her expression softening into something close to pleading. “I’m sure you’ll be an excellent mentor for him. You just have to… help him with the job, at least at the beginning. He… well…” She trailed off, closing her eyes with a sigh.
You gently pulled your hands free and went back to flipping through Robert’s file: personal details, blah blah blah, useless stuff… his team.
Your eyes widened the moment you read it: ‘Z-Team’, right next to ‘Phoenix Program’.
A smile tugged at your lips before you burst into laughter again. Blazer looked at you, visibly wounded by your deeply unprofessional reaction.
“You could’ve just told him right away it was going to be a temporary contract, Mandy.” You set the papers down and slid them back in her direction. She followed the gesture, her disappointment obvious. “He’ll be lucky if he survives the day with those psychos.”
“I’m only asking you to have a little faith in Robert,” she tried to negotiate, and when she saw your expression hadn’t changed, she added, “And in the Z-Team as well. Really, I’m sure that despite their criminal past they can improve and become heroes. They wouldn’t have volunteered if they didn’t truly want that.”
“They’re criminals, Mandy. Some of them could practically be classified as terrorists.” Your expression sharpened, your tone turning more aggressive.
Just talking about the Z-Team made your blood boil.
“They got two perfectly good dispatchers fired, people who would’ve been great here at SDN, all because they have zero respect for the people meant to command their operations.” You slammed a fist onto the wooden surface. “Christ.”
The woman in front of you mirrored your seriousness while still maintaining a perfectly composed posture, worthy of her title as director. “Do I need to remind you that you’re not so different from them?”
You pressed a hand to your chest and raised an eyebrow. “Are you seriously comparing the stupid thing I did at seventeen to people who, until yesterday, were setting neighborhoods on fire and killing for hire? Need I remind you that the average age in that team is around thirty? They’re not teenagers anymore...”
“Exactly! They’re mature people who want to change, to become better, to leave their past behind and become heroes.” The blonde offered a small, encouraging smile, though it did little to improve your mood.
“Oh yes, I’ve really noticed all that desire for change,” you scoffed, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair. “They put so much effort into disobeying orders, creating messes on purpose just to show you they’re disobeying orders… should I go on and list what they do inside the branch?”
Mandy lowered her gaze and lifted Robert’s documents again, reading them in silence before shifting the conversation just a little. “Do you know why I came up with the Phoenix Program?” she asked, looking up.
You shrugged, clearly uninterested.
“Because just like you changed for the better, I’m sure they can do the same.”
“I was seventeen, and I stole from a store… I didn’t kill anyone?” A tense smile tugged at your lips. Being compared to that group of criminals made your stomach twist. “Of course I changed, because I’m a decent person. They aren’t. They’ve done horrible things-”
“All I’m asking is that you help Robert with his job… the rest will come on its own. I have faith in him, and I’m sure he’ll be able to keep them under control.” Her eyes softened again, practically pleading for your cooperation.
Your expression slowly lost its edge until you finally pushed your hands against the armrests and let out a sharp breath. “Fine, I’ll do what you want… but if Robert complains even once about that group of incompetents, I will personally advise him to resign.”
“That sounds a little excessive. From what came up in the interview, he… desperately needs this job.”
She looked almost like she was hiding something (not almost, you were certain of it) and the tension in her posture made it even more obvious that she knew you had noticed.
You narrowed your eyes, suspicious. “Is the cashier job at the minimarket not enough for him to make ends meet?”
“Robert is far more qualified for work like this. His skills would be wasted behind a register,” she explained, her posture straightening again, professionalism settling back into place. “He showed excellent potential in our tutorial.”
“Right, because my team is competent and actually knows how to do their job, unlike-” A knock on the door cut you off before you could finish your rant. You shot Blazer a murderous look and muttered, “We’ll continue this later…”
“Come in, Robert, please,” Blonde Blazer called out brightly.
The door swung open to reveal a tall, slim man whose freckled cheeks were… bruised? Had he been in a fight? He ran a hand through his short brown hair, looking vaguely uneasy.
“Am I interrupting something?” he asked, his voice low and steady. “I heard you two arguing from the hallway…” His eyes flicked from Blazer to you.
You immediately looked away and gestured for him to sit beside you, sliding your chair just a little to make room.
“No, no, really, it’s nothing… just work stuff,” the woman behind the desk reassured him as he took his seat. “We were actually waiting for you.” She motioned toward you. “This is Y/N L/N. She’ll be the one to show you around the branch and explain how your assignment works.”
Robert turned to you and offered his hand for a shake. You sat up straighter, feigning interest, and took it firmly. “Nice to meet you, Robert Robertson,” you said, letting go.
He stared at you, puzzled, as if wondering why you had emphasized his name, but he probably assumed that you simply found it silly. Which was true.
“Blazer says you’re suited for this job,” you continued, tilting your head toward the blonde. “How was using my team during the tutorial?” You rested your elbow on the desk and your cheek against your hand, studying every detail of the man sitting in front of you: somehow he was exactly the way you had imagined him.
“Oh, that was your team?” he asked, intrigued. He lowered his gaze, thinking about it. “I’d say they’re a great team… I didn’t have any issues. They’re very skilled. Did you train them personally?”
A smirk tugged at your lips. Blazer abruptly cleared her throat, snapping your attention back to her: her expression made it very clear you needed to behave. With a long sigh, you sat up properly and folded your arms across your chest.
“Let’s just say they’re the strongest superheroes we have here at the SDN in Torrance. They’re very good at following orders…” You inspected your nails, bored, then leaned slightly toward Robert and whispered, “Took me a long time to get them to that point…”
He frowned in confusion and looked back at Blazer as if silently begging her for a way out of this conversation.
“That’s great…” he managed. “I’m guessing I’ll have some work to do with my team too.”
Blazer glanced between the two of you. “Robert already had the chance to learn about his team members by going through the database with Chase.”
“Don’t feel judged at all when you come in later today to hand in your resignation, Robert. Really, I’ll fully support that choice.” You patted his shoulder in a gesture that was far too familiar, feeling him stiffen instantly under your touch.
“They’re not as bad as she says, don’t worry,” Blazer jumped in, hands raised in a weak attempt to reassure him, her smile small and nervous. “She tends to… exaggerate, sometimes.”
“That is absolutely not true,” you muttered, but before you could say more, she stood up and walked toward the door, drawing both your attention and Robert’s.
“I’d say introductions are done and you’re ready to go.” She opened the door expectantly. You stood first, giving her a casual wave, while Robert followed behind with his hands in his pockets, offering the blonde a polite nod. “And don’t forget to show him where the restroom is.”
“Oh yeah, the most important part of this place…” you murmured under your breath, quiet enough that no one should have heard… except probably Galen, because Galen always heard everything.
A young man wearing a strange yellow-and-blue suit and a tie that absolutely did not match the costume stood up from a small couch, his damp red hair clinging to his forehead and his cheeks flushed.
“T-They hired you!” he stammered at Robert. “I’m so happy for… you? Yes, for you!” He looked painfully nervous.
“Waterboy,” Blazer called from her office. “It’s your turn, please come in.” Her smile made him freeze in disbelief behind those odd swimmer-like goggles he wore.
“M-Miss Blazer?! You’re the one who I'm g-going to interview- no, you're t-the one who's going to interrogate m-me for the job?” He rubbed his hands together anxiously, and he noticed how both you and Robert had stopped walking to stare at him.
Your presence clearly made him even more uncomfortable: he seemed to know Robert, but you were a complete stranger, and your naturally judgmental gaze wasn’t helping him.
You had no idea why, but you felt an overwhelming wave of pity for him, so strong it almost made him… adorable? You stepped toward him, only for him to take several panicked steps back, unsure of your intentions. You gave him a hearty slap on the back… and instantly realized how drenched he was.
Not damp. Drenched.
You pulled your hand away, staring at the wet sheen and trying to figure out what exactly you had touched, but Waterboy immediately raised his hands defensively.
“S-Sorry! It’s a n-natural reaction,” he blurted, cheeks flaring even redder as his trembling fingers reached for his perfectly tied tie. He clutched it so tightly his wet palms made it drip.
“Don’t worry about it,” you said, wiping your hand on your blue uniform. “Relax, Blazer will hire you without a problem, right Blazer?” You glanced toward the superhero, who answered you with a reassuring smile.
“We’ll see if he lives up to the interview,” she replied, folding her arms, though her tone was far from strict, and you knew perfectly well she was absolutely going to hire him.
“So that’s a yes.” You turned back to Waterboy, his blue eyes met yours for a fraction of a second before he nervously looked away and focused on a hallway plant instead. “Go in there and knock ’em dead… metaphorically,” you added, stepping back and giving him a reassuring wink before continuing down the corridor with Robert quietly following behind you.
You walked until you reached the heart of the office, where the dispatchers were all at their stations, talking to their teams through headsets, while others hovered around the printers or chatted over cups of coffee.
The whole space felt strangely calm: just a regular office doing regular office things.
“So you already know who you’re getting as your team, right?” you asked, still walking ahead of the new arrival. Questioning him, learning who exactly you were dealing with, was far more entertaining than playing tour guide. He would learn his way around eventually… or maybe not, considering how little time he was likely to last with the Z-Team.
“Yes, and I also know they’re criminal jackasses… but I’ll figure something out.” He sounded calm. Too calm.
“You know, the two dispatchers before you were just as confident. They thought they could change them.” You turned your head slightly to glance at him while you walked. “Guess how you ended up with this job opening.”
He narrowed his eyes as the meaning sank in. “I’ll do my best because-”
“Because you need this job since you were looking for one,” you cut in with a short laugh, waving at a few colleagues who looked up as you passed. “Don’t get me wrong, though... I admire your determination, Robert Robertson.”
“I wasn’t exactly… looking for a job?” he said, the statement sounding more like a question, as if he wasn’t entirely sure of it himself. “Anyway, where’s my station?”
“Wow, you really can’t wait to meet them, huh?” You stopped in front of a small desk with an old monitor that probably counted as a computer.
It looked painfully empty compared to your own overcrowded workspace, which was cluttered with papers, novels, photos of your team… honestly, ‘mess’ might have been a more accurate word to describe it.
“I’m guessing this one is mine?” He stepped toward the desk, pulled out the chair, and sat down, picking up the headset and inspecting it “How does this work exactly?”
You moved behind him, placing your hands on his shoulders as you leaned forward. You pointed to the headset, where three small buttons in different colors sat neatly in a column.
Robert went very still, listening closely as you explained what each one did. When he glanced up, he found you focused entirely on your explanation, and for a moment it seemed like your words faded from his mind as he studied you instead.
“…and I strongly suggest keeping the SDN line open for now, that way I can hear your conversations with the Z-Team,” you finished, straightening up. “Got all that?”
Robert turned his chair toward you, his expression saying loud and clear that he had not understood a single word.
You already knew this man wouldn’t make it through one full shift: he was definitely quitting before lunch break.
“Yeah, I’ll manage… anyway, earlier Blazer mentioned the bathroom. Do you know where it is?” He set the headset on the desk and stood up, and the question made you smile.
“You’re already about to piss yourself and your shift hasn’t even started?” Hands on your hips, you shook your head. “It’s that way.” You pointed toward the far end of the office, then checked your watch. “Don’t take too long. They get impatient.”
“I won’t.” He headed toward the men’s restroom at a near-jog, as if he’d taken your warning to heart. He genuinely meant it: he really thought he could rehabilitate them and help Blazer with the Phoenix Program.
Poor, hopeless man.
You sat down at your station and powered on your computer. The SDN interface flashed onto the screen, bringing up the map of the city and automatically connecting you to your team.
“Greetings, dispatcher!” Phenomaman’s voice boomed with his usual enthusiasm, and somehow it never failed to lift your mood a little… probably because he was an alien who still didn’t fully understand Earth. “My cherished colleagues and I are ready for your instructions!”
“Speaking of instructions…” You began counting on your fingers while spinning lazily in your chair, waiting for Robert to return from the bathroom. “Guess who found a new dispatcher for the next… seven hours?”
“What do you mean?” Brainbook asked, calm as always, clearly wanting more details.
“The Z-Team has a new babysitter,” you announced, still spinning, a smirk tugging at your mouth. “Robert Robertson. Remember the name, because I guarantee he won’t survive long enough to appear on Monday’s list of active SDN dispatchers.”
“Have a little more faith in him. Maybe he’ll finally be the one who manages that team properly,” Equilibrium offered, trying to nudge you toward the same optimism Mandy had earlier, with the same result.
“Robert Robertson. What a remarkably odd name,” Phenomaman chimed in cheerfully, as if commenting on the weather.
If only Blazer had heard him say that…
“Right? I thought the same thing. You really get me… but don’t tell Blondie, alright?” You stopped and leaned closer to your desk, adjusting the microphone on your headset so it sat closer to your lips. “She already scolded me for pointing it out, so do me a favor and don’t bring it up if you ever meet him.”
“Exactly, Phenomaman,” Pom Pom chimed in, sounding perfectly serious. “It wouldn’t be polite, you’d make a terrible first impression.”
“Anyway, do we have any incoming calls?” Brickhouse asked, barely hiding her impatience.
You glanced at the map where several notifications were already blinking. You skimmed through them quickly: simple cases, all of them, nothing your team couldn’t handle in their sleep.
“You know I’ve got to keep an eye on this Robert, right?” You switched the channel to the full SDN line. “Galen, could you take over my team for today?”
“On it,” he replied, immediately slipping into dispatcher mode as he began issuing instructions to your squad.
Only Phenomaman seemed even slightly unsettled by the change. “Why are you letting another dispatcher take care of us today?” he asked, sounding almost hurt.
You had never left your team on their own, not even for a moment. You cared about every single one of them… and not just because this job had practically saved you from ending up on the street and you were doing everything in your power not to get fired, you genuinely loved your team.
You switched back to your private channel with them. “Blazer’s making me do it, trust me I’d rather be working with you, buuuut the babysitter needs yet another babysitter…” You rolled your eyes just thinking of the moment Robert would return, forcing you to deal with that group of insufferable people.
“I’m sure he’ll manage on his own eventually,” Sweetalker offered gently, picking up on your tension even through the comms.
“You’re… way too optimistic.”
You heard movement at the desk beside you. Lifting your gaze, you saw Robert settling into his seat, slipping on his headset and making sure both the branch line and (most importantly) your direct channel were open.
“I have to go now,” you told your team, then turned back to your keyboard, typing until your screen finally loaded the same map and communication feed Robert had up. Only this time, instead of your perfect team, the Z-Team occupied every open slot.
The sight alone… irritated you.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Robert Robertson, I’ll be working with you and I’ll be your-”
A burst of laughter cut him off. You leaned over the divider to catch his reaction in real time. He arched a confused eyebrow and glanced at you, as if hoping you might translate the chaos or, better yet, save him from it.
“Is that really your name?” Prism asked between hysterical giggles. “Please tell me it’s fake!”
“It has to be fake, no one is actually named like that,” Invisigal added with her usual flair. “Did I tell you I saw him in his underwear in the conference room?”
“Who the hell changes clothes in a conference room?” Flambae’s unmistakable accent rose above the growing commotion.
You shot Robert a suspicious look. There were far too many questions forming in your mind. He met your eyes, clearly scrambling for a way to defuse the situation before it spiraled any further.
“Why… were you changing in the conference room?” you asked, lifting a brow.
He opened his mouth to respond, but other voices drowned him out immediately.
“Oh shit, she’s here,” Punch Up blurted in his thick Irish accent, followed by Coupè’s pointed cough, as if desperately signalling the team to calm down.
It made absolutely no difference.
“Hey Sonar, isn’t she the girl you’re always talking about?” Malevola’s question sliced through the chatter, silencing the whole call in an instant.
Everyone waited for Sonar to speak, completely ready to witness the fallout of his exposure.
“The dispatcher whose mission assignments I criticize every chance I get? Yeah, that’s her.” He sounded far too calm for someone who had just committed verbal blasphemy.
“Asshole, you’re not even a dispatcher, you don’t get to judge my choices. You don’t even know how my job works, you don't get to talk when you can barely handle your own.” You didn’t even realize you’d raised your voice until several nearby coworkers turned their heads in your direction.
More laughter erupted on the line, mostly from Prism, who sounded absolutely delighted. “She destroyed you with nothing but words damn. God, I love this bitch.”
“The feeling is not mutual,” you muttered, sitting back down properly and focusing on your own screen on your desk.
“Still, I think you should start trusting the advice and opinions of someone who went to Harvard, just saying,” Sonar continued, apparently unwilling to let the argument die.
“I couldn’t care less about your degrees, honestly. You’re no different from the rest of the idiots on your team.” You stared at Sonar’s image on your screen as if the two of you were face to face, even though you would have avoided that scenario at all costs in person… and not because you were afraid of him.
“Someone here definitely has a bit of a temper,” Flambae chuckled before adding, “You could almost say she heats up a little too easily.” More laughter followed, bubbling through the call and scraping at the last threads of your patience.
Robert finally chose to step in. “Alright, everyone calm down, okay? We’ve got work to do, so let’s not waste any more time.”
“You know she called you a babysitter, right?” Sonar asked, sounding far too smug, as if he expected Robert to already know. Naturally he didn’t, he had been in the bathroom at the time, but of course that smug little bat had to snitch every piece of information he could get just to avenge the humiliation you’d made him feel. “Oh, and she also declared herself your babysitter.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about right now,” Robert cut him off, already assigning each member of the team to their respective zones and pushing them toward their missions.
“Do you do anything besides talk and eavesdrop on conversations that don’t concern you at all?” Your irritation was impossible to hide, especially over the call. You couldn’t even pretend to have a neutral, professional tone.
You tapped a request, read through it quickly, and sent Sonar to take care of it. “There you go, at least you’ll use that mouth of yours for something useful.”
“My mouth can do a lot more than talk,” he shot back as he headed toward his target zone, his smug, confident tone gnawing straight at your nerves.
“Can it also shut the fuck up?” you snapped, slamming your fist onto the desk. One of the books in your precarious stack of novels toppled to the floor.
This time, Sonar didn’t reply.
“I think she's into you, you know?” Malevola laughed quietly, clearly teaming up with Sonar just to push your patience further. If you remembered correctly, those two were close, so of course they were going to back each other up.
“Focus on your work,” Robert reminded them sharply. “You’ll have time to argue with her once the shift is over.”
“Unless she runs away like a pathetic crybaby,” Flambae threw in. That last jab snapped the final thread.
You stood abruptly from your chair and strode toward Blazer’s office with a decisive, furious pace.
“She really did it? Haha, such a pussy,” Flambae taunted on the call.
Your desk neighbor immediately stood as well, following after you to make sure you were alright. “Can we all stop taking jabs at each other? You’re making everything harder, and we’re never going to function as a team if you keep acting like assholes,” he muttered, rubbing one hand over his headset in sheer frustration.
“Robert, go back to your station,” you ordered, planting your hands on your hips as you stopped in the middle of the office. Your expression was serious, your gaze locked firmly with his. “You need to keep managing the missions.” You tapped the side of your headset. “Stay connected to me anyway. I need to speak with my superior about these idiots.”
“How kind of you,” Coupè muttered loudly enough for both you and Robert to hear. Several others tried to muffle their laughter, far too entertained for your liking.
So much for dealing with mature adults, it was like babysitting an entire kindergarten.
Robert sighed but did as you said, returning to his seat and continuing to run the team. To his credit, he managed to dispatch them through mission after mission without major issues.
Maybe Blazer was right about his potential… but it was going to be wasted on the Z-Team.
When you pushed open Mandy’s office door, Waterboy was still inside. He jumped violently at the sudden noise, letting out a startled yelp. She looked up at you, visibly confused, her eyes silently asking what in the world had just happened.
You approached her desk and dropped into the empty chair beside Waterboy, who, terrified, slowly inched his own seat away from you as if distance alone could save him.
“It’s not going to work,” you said, folding your arms and locking eyes with Mandy, every muscle in your body working overtime to hold back the anger simmering under your skin. “Robert isn’t cut out for working with the Z-Team.” You didn’t care if he or the team heard you loud and clear over the open comms. “He’s wasted there. Give him another team and you’ll actually save a decent dispatcher.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that…” Blonde Blazer replied in her usual calm, composed voice. “Robert is capable of handling the Phoenix Program. I’m sure of it. He has excellent problem-solving skills… he’s the right person for the job.”
“So… we’ll see about that,” Prism muttered somewhere on the line, clearly having listened in on every word… along with the entire team and, of course, Robert.
“They’re hopeless, why won’t you accept that?” You slammed your fist on the armrest and leaned forward. “You can’t change them. Not you, not me, not Robert. They’ve had chance after chance to improve, and nothing worked. Sending them to prison is the only thing they deserve.”
“Is… is th-the interview over? C-can I go n-now or…?” Waterboy, clearly uncomfortable, tried desperately to slip out of the situation. He stood abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. “S-sorry!” More droplets of water slid down his arms and neck, his strange superpower growing more intense the more anxious he became.
“Wh-who t-talks like th-that?” Flambae mocked, imitating poor Waterboy’s trembling voice just for attention. They even laughed about this. They really couldn’t change.
“Shut that damn mouth!” You and Robert ordered at the exact same time. The entire line went silent. Even the office around you fell quiet.
You glanced at Waterboy, worried he’d think your words were directed at him. You shook your head quickly, concerned, and yet you knew the damage was already done.
Very slowly, the boy backed toward the exit without breaking eye contact with you. His hand fumbled for the door handle more than once, and when he finally found it his palm was so damp it slipped right off the material.
With a small, reluctant sigh you activated the psychic abilities you almost never used, lowered the handle for him, and the door swung open, giving him a chance to escape. He looked absolutely terrified of you.
When you turned back to Mandy, you already knew what was waiting.
“End the call. Now,” she ordered, her voice kept deliberately low so Robert or the rest of the team wouldn’t overhear. It was rare to see her this angry.
“Isn’t it technically my job to keep Robert in check?” you offered trying to sound casual, though the way she was staring at you told a completely different story, one that said she was deadly serious.
Resigned, you brought your hand up to your headset and shut off the connection.
“You need to be more mature about things like this,” she scolded, though her tone gradually softened as she spoke. “Especially when it comes to the Z-Team. They’re your colleagues as much as they’re your subordinates… well, even if they’re not exactly part of your team, you still need to treat them with respect.”
“Oh, do they treat me with respect? Do they treat Robert, their actual superior, with respect?” you shot back, one eyebrow rising as your voice grew louder with every question. “The SDN can’t keep wasting time and energy on those people. They’re treating their job like some kind of damn vacation. They get free food here, why? Because they’re part of the Phoenix Program! They’re paid for their work even though they’re absolute disasters and earn as much as the heroes who actually try, why? Because they’re in the fucking Phoenix Program!”
Mandy stared at you, both startled and worried by your outburst. “I think you… might have some mild anger management issues,” she ventured, and the comment only made something hot and furious spike inside your chest.
“That’s not true at all,” you snapped as you rose from your seat so abruptly the chair slid back with a dull scrape. Your hands slammed onto the desk as you leaned forward, meeting her gaze head-on. “I just think it’s unfair to the people who actually work hard and take this seriously.”
You paused, recalling every moment you and your own team had struggled with coordination at the beginning, how long it had taken to fix things, how much patience it had required.
“You’re supporting them even when they’re clearly in the wrong, and all that does is send the message that they can keep behaving like this because there won’t be consequences.”
She lowered her eyes, clearly thinking it over. Your words had struck a nerve: there was truth in them, and she knew it. You sank back into your chair without looking away from her.
“I’m not angry at you, Mandy…” you murmured, your voice much quieter now, almost a whisper. You hated losing your temper in front of her. “It’s just… it gets under my skin how much you do for them, constantly, without ever getting anything back. You’re too good for them.”
Blonde Blazer met your gaze again. “So you’re saying I should be harder on them?” She glanced at the scattered documents on her desk. “Maybe that’s the only way to make them improve, is that what you think?”
“The one at the bottom of the ranking,” you said, and she instantly focused, curious about what you were suggesting. “Cut them from the team. Make it a warning… something like, ‘whoever doesn’t put in the effort will meet the same fate’. Something like that.”
“That definitely won’t help with rehabilitation…” She still seemed hesitant, but her eyes betrayed that she was genuinely considering it.
“Is what you’re doing now helping their rehabilitation?” you countered as you stood and moved behind her desk.
You set a hand on her shoulder, and she watched you in confusion as you reached for the folder containing all the Phoenix Program dossiers. She didn’t say a word, that alone told you she agreed.
“Exactly.” You returned to your chair and began flipping through the files one by one.
“Well, then I’ve decided,” she finally said, closing her eyes as she rose and walked toward the office door. Her hand landed on the handle, still slightly damp from Waterboy, though she didn’t seem to pay it much attention.
She tried to open it, but you held it in place with your powers, and Blazer turned toward you silently demanding an explanation.
You approached her and handed over the Phoenix Program folder after giving every profile a quick review. “I’m speaking from experience when I say they can’t change, and you know that.” You pressed the papers to her chest, waiting for her to take them with her free hand.
“You shouldn’t let what your father did in the past influence the choices you make now…” Mandy’s voice softened, her eyes gentler. She knew how deeply your father still hurt you, even if you tried to hide it. She’d done the right thing that day when she’d confronted him. “They’re not like him. They’re different people with different crimes.”
A bitter smile tugged at your lips as you held back a laugh. “That bastard can go fuck himself. I hope he’s rotting in that damn prison like he deserves.” You stepped away from her and let the folder fall.
She didn’t even try to catch it, simply watched the papers scatter across the floor as you walked toward the door with determined steps, noting the tension in your shoulders as you pulled your headset back on.
“…every time something happens she runs to ‘mom’ to complain, that’s just how she is.” As soon as you reopened the comms with Robert and his team, you found yourself dropped right into the middle of an ongoing conversation, one that Flambae was obviously leading.
You didn’t say a word, simply stopped in the hallway to listen, catching sight of Robert looking completely drained after everything that had happened.
“Ever since she got hired she comes running to Blazer like she expects her to fix her fucking problems because she can’t take control of the damn situation herself.”
“Exactly,” Sonar agreed, his voice dripping with amusement. “Like… full Karen with the manager style. Something like that.”
They were obviously talking about you, and judging from Robert’s exasperation they must have been at it for the entire time you’d been off the line in Blazer’s office. You watched your colleague lean back in his chair and drag his hands down his face, and you could practically hear the weight of his sigh through the headset.
He wasn’t going to last a single shift like this… you had known it from the start, and as usual, you were right.
“I’m back,” you announced, although you didn’t return to your workstation. Instead you pivoted on your heel and headed toward the stairs that led to the parking lot. “I think I need a smoke break. Anyone got a light?”
“How’d it go with your bestie?” Flambae taunted again, and God, you really wished he would shut up.
His voice grated on your nerves, especially when he talked about you… or to you.
“If you care, I do have a lighter,” Invisigal replied calmly. “But I’m a little busy at the moment. Robert ‘Underwear’ Robertson sent me to the other side of the city, so I might be a bit late.”
“Pfft, who said anything about a lighter? We literally have Human Torch over here, he could easily give me a hand.” You reached into the lower pocket of your pants, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, slid one between your lips and tucked the pack back away. Then you pushed open the door and finally stepped out into the parking lot. “I’m outside, by the way.”
“Who the hell did you just call Human Torch?” the fire-powered man snapped, deeply offended.
“You did just burn down a whole block,” Robert cut in tiredly, far too drained to let a new argument erupt. “I’d say the nickname fits.” Then, to you, “He’s on time-out anyway, so he’s here at SDN while the others try to fix his mess…”
Prism snorted at that, although her friend clearly didn’t take it nearly as well. You glanced up at the window of the break room, where Flambae probably was, and spotted flickering flames inside.
“Looks like you’re already warmed up to help me out. I can offer you one, if you want.”
Five minutes later the door you had exited swung open again, revealing the man himself. His long dark hair was tied back in the usual low ponytail, and his sunglasses hid most of his expression. You extended a hand toward him, offering the cigarette as promised.
He stepped closer, plucked it from your fingers, and lit a small flame at the tip of his pinky to set it alight. You handed him your own next, and he lit that for you as well.
“Too kind,” you said with a smile that was barely polite and clearly fake, just like the compliment that came with it.
“Yeah, whatever.” It was only then, between one drag and the next, that you noticed he was missing a tooth. You turned your head to get a better look, struggling not to burst out laughing at how ridiculous he appeared. “Got nothing better to stare at?” he grumbled, sliding his sunglasses up just enough to shoot you a threatening glare.
“Someone really kicked your ass, buddy,” you couldn’t help laughing, almost choking as smoke caught in your throat. “Serves you right.”
The smoke break passed quickly and in near-total silence, the only real source of entertainment being the steady flow of cars and coworkers moving back and forth, either retrieving something they’d forgotten inside or just arriving for their shift.
When you finished your cigarette, you let it fall to the ground and crushed it under your heel. “Your car is really nice,” you remarked, folding your arms as you eyed the white sports car parked in front of you.
You walked toward it for a closer look, and Flambae followed closely as if afraid you might damage it. “I’ve always wanted a car like this. Did you buy it with stolen money or something?”
“Not your business.” When he took his last drag, he burned the cigarette to ash with a flick of his powers, letting the remains scatter into the wind.
“Well, you know what else isn’t your business? My business.” You placed your hands on the hood of his car, and he stared at the gesture with undisguised irritation. “You don’t get to judge what I say to Blazer during my shifts.”
“Get your hands off my car,” he ordered, pointing a finger at you. When you didn’t move, flames began to crawl across his skin as he tried to intimidate you. “Now.”
You lifted your hands from the hood, but only so you could stretch your arm out toward the sidewalk where you’d been earlier. “I’m really glad SDN has insurance,” you said, and with a quick activation of your power, you ripped an entire fire hydrant from the ground.
Focusing as hard as you could, you maneuvered the heavy object and dropped it directly onto his car before he had the chance to react. Water burst from the snapped pipe, spraying everywhere and soaking Flambae completely, extinguishing him on the spot.
“Oops. You did need a shower after all that building-burning, don’t you think?”
“No fucking way,” came Punch Up’s stunned exclamation. You both looked up toward one of the building’s windows and saw his small figure pressed up against the glass in shock. “Shifter's daughter just destroyed Flambae’s car!”
“Uhmm… who?” Robert asked, baffled, though no one bothered responding to him.
“She did what?!” Prism shouted, a bit too loudly. “How the hell did she even do that?!”
“What- did she set his car on fire?” Malevola stared in disbelief. “Who’s paying for the damages?”
“SDN,” you answered simply as you stepped away from the wreck and from Flambae, who tracked you with a burning glare while trying, and failing, to steady his breathing.
He was humiliated, furious, and stranded beside the ruined remains of his precious car, whose blaring alarm was already drawing far too many curious bystanders.
“Consider this a warning...”
“Wow, so now we’re doing mafia-style threats?” Coupé muttered as you pushed open the door and made your way back up the stairs toward the office. “Are we absolutely sure she doesn’t have a whole list of… priors?”
“Okay, let’s try to focus on the job, yeah? We’re almost at the end of the shift, let’s not lose it now,” Robert cut in, trying to restore at least a sliver of order to the team… and somehow, unbelievably, it worked.
At least until Invisigal once again wandered off on her own, ignoring whatever instructions her dispatcher had given her.
A few hours later you wandered into the break room to make yourself a coffee, and to your surprise you found both Robert and Invisigal already sitting at a table. They instantly stopped talking, eyes following you across the room.
“Relax, I’ll mind my own business,” you said, grabbing a capsule and popping it into the coffee machine. You couldn’t explain why, but the machine coffee always tasted better to you than anything made with a moka pot. “I’ll leave the moment my drink is ready.”
Robert rested an arm along the back of his chair and turned more fully toward you. “Hey,” he called out, and you glanced over. “Does ignoring an order actually come with sanctions here?”
You leaned back against the counter, narrowing your eyes. “Do you mean… you’re talking about what Invisigal did earlier? Going off on her own without your say-so?”
Her brown eyes met yours, silently begging you to take her side, to defend her, something you couldn’t and absolutely wouldn’t do.
“Technically, yes. Put it in your report.”
“Oh fuck you!” Invisigal threw her hands up. “If I hadn’t stepped in, Granny would be in way deeper shit right now.”
“I would’ve sent you anyway,” Robert tried to reason with her as your coffee finally finished brewing. “I wasn’t going to ignore the call, and I would’ve backed you up too. But you disobeyed a direct order, and that’s not how this works.”
“Stop acting like you’re some big shot just because you’re-” she cut herself off when you walked past them toward the door. The moment you stepped out, closing it behind you, their voices rose again, picking up the argument.
What could they possibly have to say that needed privacy? Whatever.
A sudden sharp screech startled you so violently that you dropped your coffee, the hot liquid splashing across the floor and burning your already-stinging lips. The cup dripped in your hand, little dark beads falling onto the growing puddle on the tiles.
“What the fuck?” You whipped around, spotting Sonar not too far from you, watching with those blank white eyes and a smirk stretched across his muzzle.
The bastard had done it on purpose.
You scanned the corridor until you spotted a cleaning cart, grabbed a handful of paper towels, and wiped your face and cup until it stopped dripping.
“I’m telling you, she does not have the heart of a villain, girl practically pissed herself,” the half-bat man said, straightening his bright red tie while clearly talking through his earpiece to the rest of the Z-Team. “Yeah, yeah, I know what she did earlier, but she’s got no reflexes, and it wasn’t even anything scary… it’s like she got startled by a hiccup.”
You raised your cup again and slowly sipped your coffee without breaking eye contact. Sonar mirrored you, and the way he registered the murderous look on your face was its own kind of message: a warning for him and every idiot listening in.
“Ooh, there it is, she’s giving me that look,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall, far too at ease for your liking. “She’s gonna be so disappointed when she finds out I don’t own a car she can destroy. Anyway… you guys owe me two hundred and thirty-four bucks for that bet. Told you she would get scared.”
You finished your drink in one long swallow and tossed the empty cup into a nearby bin. Then you went back to the cart, crouched to grab paper and a cloth to clean up the mess Sonar had forced you to make. When you straightened, you noticed a very tall figure at the other end of the cart, holding a rag and blushing a deep red the moment he recognized you.
“Waterboy?” you blinked at him, taking a moment to really look.
Just like earlier in Blazer’s office, he was doing everything he could to avoid meeting your eyes. When you looked lower, you spotted the badge clipped to his shirt: Janitorial Staff. So he’d been hired… hardly a surprise, considering Mandy.
“Told you she’d take you on!” You raised a fist toward him, expecting him to bump it, but he didn’t.
Maybe he was too embarrassed, or maybe he was still upset about what you’d said… even if none of it had been aimed at him. Behind you, Sonar’s ears twitched like tiny radar dishes, desperate to pick up anything interesting between the two of you.
Your expression softened, eyes dropping. “Sorry about earlier, in the office. When I told you to shut up… that wasn’t really directed at you.” You gestured for him to follow you toward the coffee spill and knelt down to scrub at the mess. “This job gets… unbelievably stressful sometimes.”
You pressed harder with the cloth, but it never felt like enough. No matter how many passes you made, the floor still seemed stained.
“I-I know you weren’t angry a-at me,” Waterboy murmured, watching you clean. “W-wait, you’re getting it all… no, I-I mean, I’m the one who’s s-supposed to clean that…”
You looked up at him, confused, shaking your head. “I made the mess, I’ll clean it up.” Then your gaze shifted to Sonar, still watching the two of you with that… very strange, almost unnerving expression.
Well, he was strange, after all.
“Although really, it should be someone else cleaning up after what he did.”
“Don’t look at me, I didn’t make it fall,” he held up his hands, distancing himself immediately, and just hearing his excuse made your blood boil.
“The day you learn to mind your own damn business might just be the day you become a decent superhero,” you muttered, scrubbing at the floor with extra force until every last stain had vanished.
A satisfied smile tugged at your lips. “There. Done.” You stood, and Waterboy blinked, surprised by your sudden display of determination.
“For your information, I’m already a good superhero… ask Robert how useful I’ve been today,” he boasted, exuding that typical superiority complex, the kind only someone who spent all their time bragging about attending one of the best universities in the world could muster.
You ignored him and instead focused on the poor guy beside you. “Your powers… they’re useful for this kind of work, honestly. I mean, I don’t want to sound insulting or anything.” You both stepped toward the cart, and you tossed the used paper into the bin and the dirty cloth into the bucket of water, washing away the last traces of spilled coffee. “But why choose to be a janitor, exactly?”
The red-haired boy moved toward a nearby cabinet, dipping his cloth in water with his hands and starting to clean with careful precision. “I-It’s… M-Miss Blazer gave me this o-opportunity, even i-if it's not exactly the b-best job…” he stammered nervously, a small laugh escaping him, though his eyes softened with a hint of hurt shortly after. “I-I’d like to help directly, somehow… but this is fine too. I-I’m not saying that…” his words trailed off into a low murmur, anxious and self-directed, and you didn’t catch the rest.
You rested your elbows on the cart, propping your face in your hands, watching him work. “How good are you with your powers?”
Footsteps approached behind you, and you noticed Sonar slipping closer, hands in his pockets, his attention caught by how Waterboy carried out his tasks. “Why are you asking him that?” he asked, puzzled, before smirking slightly, the tips of his fangs glinting up close. “You have trouble getting wet when you do it and need some lubrication?” He motioned toward Waterboy, who stiffened instantly, avoiding eye contact with either of you.
You rolled your eyes and returned your attention to Waterboy. “Ignore him. He’s jealous because he probably hasn’t gotten laid in years… all that time spent at Harvard got him no bitches at all…”
The hybrid glared at you, clearly offended, as you stepped closer to the janitor, placing a hand on his back and giving him encouraging pats, which, for some reason, he did not like at all.
It must have been humiliating for him that you were giving attention to a loser like Waterboy instead of a supposedly intelligent man like him. Perhaps you hadn’t noticed, but for weeks he’d been talking about you, and not everything he said was criticism, contrary to what he had claimed before.
The break room door suddenly swung open, catching all three of your attention, then slammed shut by an invisible force: Invisigal. You hurried to the room, and when you opened the door, you saw Robert sprawled on the floor.
“Jesus,” you muttered, seeing blood trickle from his nose. He tried to wipe it with his sleeve. “No, stop… Waterboy, a tissue, please!”
“Y-Yes!” he answered from the corridor, rustling through objects on his cart in a flurry.
Sonar strolled into the room with casual calm, stopping beside the two of you. “Damn, man, what did you say to make her react like that?”
Robert glanced at him briefly but said nothing, his eyes shifting to your worried figure as you waited for the tissue. Waterboy handed over a damp piece of paper, and you immediately rolled it up and pressed it against Robert’s nose, some drops of water sliding down his cheek.
“W-What happened?” the red-haired boy asked, concern etched on his face as he watched his friend in that state.
You helped Robert to his feet, placing a hand on his chest to stabilize him, but he waved you off, signaling he was fine. You clenched your fists as Robert left the room.
“Not only does she disobey orders, she even raises her hands against her superiors.” You paused at the doorway, glancing at the superhero ranking board in the office: at last place, of course, was Invisigal. She would be removed from the Phoenix Program next week.
You’d wanted to speak to her, but finding her was impossible right now, and perhaps it was better not to start an argument you already knew would spiral into a full-blown fight.
The sun was already setting, and neither Robert nor Chase had left Blonde Blazer’s office, where they had been summoned. You sank back onto the sofa, crossing one ankle over your knee, letting out a deep sigh as your gaze lingered on the ceiling above.
The fading light painted the white walls with streaks of red and orange, and you couldn’t help but hope that Robert had spoken about what had happened in the break room without fear of judgment. It was serious enough that it couldn’t be ignored.
You checked your phone for the time, 6:30 PM.
Rising, you headed toward the locker room, anticipating a chance to talk with him on the way out. Opening your locker, you pulled out your clothes and set them on the bench behind you, unbuttoning your blue shirt and then moving on to your shoes and pants. You slipped into a t-shirt and shorts, appropriate for the summer heat, then pulled on the sleeves of your hoodie and zipped it up. Finally, you hung your uniform in the locker and put your shoes back on.
Once you finally left the branch, you pulled out a fruit-flavored lollipop and popped it into your mouth, leaning against the wall as you scrolled through the news on your phone. Among the headlines were mentions of missions completed by Robert. Somehow, he had actually managed to make this team function.
“Greetings, little one.” A massive figure landed in front of you, hands on his hips, red cape billowing in the wind. Phenomaman’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as he smiled. “What brings you out here all alone?”
You removed the lollipop to answer, noting how he glanced at it with interest. “I’m waiting for Robert to leave the building,” you said, sliding your phone back into your pocket and meeting his gaze. “It’s been a pretty rough day… luckily, it’s Friday. I’m exhausted. Do you have any plans for the weekend?” You popped the lollipop back into your mouth, savoring it.
“I’ve got dinner plans in Tokyo with Blonde Blazer tonight,” he said proudly, a little too pleased with himself.
It was a shame, you thought, how much this relationship weighed on your friend.
“It’s strange that she’s not here yet.” He narrowed his eyes at the main entrance, almost hoping to spot her.
“Oh, she’s probably talking to Robert in her office,” you replied, barely audible with the candy in your mouth.
“Robert Robertson?” Phenomaman furrowed his brows. “The new dispatcher?”
“Yeah… he’s not that bad, you know?” You shrugged and picked up the lollipop stick again. “He actually knows what he’s doing. Somehow, he managed to handle the Z-Team… though I doubt he’ll stick around. I’d bet he’ll resign by Monday, they’re unbearable.”
There was a pause, and you thought you saw a flicker of uncertainty cross the alien’s face.
“Oh, and I destroyed Flambae’s car today.”
“You destroyed it? That makes you a criminal! You performed an act that’s technically illegal!” He said, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow expectantly.
“Doing something illegal doesn’t always make you a criminal in the true sense of the word…”
“Is that so?” His eyes widened with curiosity.
“He deserved it, after all the crap he’s said about me, both to my face and behind my back,” you explained, resuming your lollipop. “Besides, the insurance will cover it. It was just a little… accident, more like a warning, really.”
“If he deserved it and that doesn’t make you a bad person, then that’s phenomenal and I fully support your choice!” he exclaimed with pride, and you couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.
The doors of the SDN branch swung open, and both of you turned to see Robert and Blonde Blazer exiting the building, quickly making their way toward you. Phenomaman approached the blonde and planted a gentle kiss on her cheek, and you noticed Robert watching the gesture as if it had caught him completely off guard.
“Pleasure to meet you, Robert Robertson, your name is truly strange,” he said with such calm confidence that you almost laughed, and your friend shot you a sharp glance, clearly aware that you had a hand in this little display. You returned her look with an innocent smile.
“You must be the new employee here at the SDN, whom my dispatcher, the leader of my team, mentioned to me this morning,” he added, still keeping one hand lightly on Blazer’s shoulder.
“Yes… pleasure to meet you, uhm, Phenomaman?” Robert extended his hand, and the superhero took it firmly, giving it a lively shake.
“I hope you’ve had a wonderful day working here, Robert Robertson,” he added, so innocently that, admittedly, you felt a tiny pang of guilt now.
“Perhaps… you shouldn’t keep calling him that… just call him Robert,” Blonde Blazer interjected, sensing the slight embarrassment building between everyone.
“My sincerest apologies, Robert Robertson. My superior found your name particularly odd when she spoke of you, and I must admit, I agreed,” Phenomaman explained, and everyone’s attention swung toward you, with Robert looking particularly perplexed at this revelation.
You honestly wanted to bury yourself on the spot.
“From now on, however, I, Phenomaman, shall refer to you as Robert.”
“That’s… interesting, I guess?” the new colleague replied with a faint smile that quickly faded when Phenomaman lifted Blazer into his arms as he often did. For some unknown reason, the gesture seemed to make Robert uncomfortable.
“Please step back, my takeoff tends to fling small creatures like yourselves about,” the alien warned, and you immediately grabbed Robert by the sleeve to pull him back, giving the two enough space to finally soar into the sky.
Once you were finally alone, you started heading toward the parking lot exit.
“So…” he began, a hint of uncertainty in his voice, but you cut him off immediately.
“If Phenomaman seemed a little strange, that’s… normal. He’s an alien, hasn’t lived on Earth for very long, and he still has a lot to learn, including… personal boundaries,” you admitted, feeling a little embarrassed yourself. “And as for what he said… well, it’s true. Your name is kind of weird.”
“I appreciate the honesty,” he said with a smile, causing the tissue still in his nose to shift dangerously close to falling, though he quickly readjusted, returning to his neutral expression. “Phenomaman and Blazer… they’re a couple?”
You shrugged. “Yeah, they are. Strange that you didn’t know… they’re practically famous for it.” You snapped the remaining piece of your lollipop between your teeth and chewed it thoughtfully. “Why do you care?”
Robert stopped walking, and you did the same. His silence spoke louder than any words.
“No… I can't believe it…” You widened your eyes and stepped closer, draping an arm over his shoulders. “You’ve got a crush on the strongest superhero on my team?” you teased, and he immediately pulled back, holding his hands up defensively.
“What? No!” The way he looked at you sent you into a fit of laughter.
“I was joking… it’s Blazer, right?” you added, placing a hand on your hip. “She’s taken by Phenomaman, unfortunately. Not much you can do…”
“That… could be a problem,” Robert muttered, looking down, and you raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean? A problem?” your gaze sharpened. “Dude, if she’s taken, you need to leave it alone.”
“I didn’t know she was dating him,” he admitted, lifting his gaze. “Fuck.” He clenched his teeth, closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “We were both drunk, and I… kissed her.”
You were momentarily speechless, your mouth slightly agape, while faint pink hues appeared on his freckled cheeks.
“Why on earth do you kiss drunk people?” you demanded, pointing a finger at him. “That’s… weird.”
“I apologize,” he said quietly, the air falling silent after that.
“You should tell her… not me,” you crossed your arms, pulling the lollipop stick from your mouth and tossing it into a nearby trash bin. “Unless you’ve already resolved it, which I doubt, seeing as you had no idea about their relationship.” You looked over your shoulder at him. “But I’m sure you’ll get a chance to clear things up with her, Blondie is… far too kind for this kind of thing to linger.”
“I suppose so…” he shrugged, but before you wandered too far, he called after you, “So… I guess we’ll see each other at the office on Monday?”
“Of course,” you replied with a wave before slipping your hand back into your hoodie pocket. “Maybe even Tuesday… unless you decide to quit before then.”
“I don’t think I will,” he said, raising his hand in a small wave and offering a faint smile before the two of you parted ways, each heading toward your respective apartments.
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