Slumdog Hero

Fii returned to Tweak's hideout, finding her exactly where she had left her; hunched over her workstation, fingers flying across the keyboard as she hacked away at who knows what.

"Hey, Tweak," Fii called out as she approached. "I'm back."

Tweak didn't even look up from her screens, too engrossed in whatever she was doing. "Hey Fifi, gimme a sec. Just gotta... finish this up..."

Fii watched in amusement as Tweak typed furiously, her eyes darting across the multiple monitors. Finally, she hit the enter key with a flourish and leaned back in her chair, letting out a sigh of relief. "Done! That should keep 'em off my back for a while. Now, what can I do for my favorite Super?"

Fii raised an eyebrow. "Are those Circuit Breaker guys still giving you trouble?"

Tweak shrugged. "Nothing I can't handle. They've been nosing around, trying to trace my hacks, but I'm always one step ahead. It's almost sad, really." She grinned mischievously. "I can send them on a wild goose chase whenever I want. It's like playing cat and mouse with a bunch of blind mice."

"I think you'd make a better mouse than a cat, Tweak."

The redhead pouted, puffing her cheeks out. "Wha, not even a sexy cat?"

"I can't imagine you with fur."

"Thanks," the redhead answered flatly.

Fii laughed. "You know I don't mean it like that. You're perfect just the way you are."

"Aww, you know how to make a girl blush, Fifi." Tweak grinned, her cheeks reddening.

"So, about that thing you mentioned before I left..." Fii began, trying to steer the conversation back on track. "Any progress?"

Tweak spun around in her chair, fingers flying across her keyboard. "You're going to love this."

A pop-up window on one of the monitors showed a stream of complicated code. Tweak clicked through a few menus and then started a new process. "Behold, my digital warhead."

Fii looked confused. "What does it do?"

"Ooo, I'm glad you asked. This bad boy will tear through their database like a shot of stomach cleanser at the Rusty Screw. It'll suck up all their juicy data, scramble their system, and send it right back to me, snug and safe on my servers. They won't even realize they've been wiped till it's too late."

"Wait, so you're gonna use that on the Circuit Breakers? Um, isn't that a bit... much? They might only be harassing you now, but if you hit them that hard..."

As much as Fii admired Tweak, she had always had a tendency to go overboard when she was focused on something. It was usually a harmless quirk, but with a gang like that involved, this could escalate things. And in the slums, retaliation could mean full-blown warfare, and Tweak didn't have a gang backing her.

Tweak stopped typing and turned to face her. "True, but they're already coming at me hard. It's called... er... self-defense? Justifiable hacking? The point is, I'm sick of playing defense with them. Time for the tables to turn. Those maniacs won't know what hit 'em. And if that doesn't scare them off, well..." She pulled a thumb across her neck.

Fii sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Just... be careful, okay?"

"Careful is my middle name," Tweak said with a smirk. "Right after Danger, Deathwish, and Doom."

Fii rolled her eyes. "I'm serious. I know you want to get back at them, but what if they find out and decide to do something, well, more direct?"

"Maybe you're right. Maybe my trigger finger's getting itchy." Tweak puffed out her cheeks and huffed. "You know what? Fine, we'll play it cool. I'll give 'em one more chance to back off."

She leaned forward again, her chair creaking, and started typing once more. "Just for you. I'm scaling back the code. But if they keep prodding..." A dramatic pause. "Boom." She made a small explosion with her hands.

Fii nodded, relieved. "Sounds good to me."

"You know, you're not half bad in this whole 'talking people down' business," Tweak said, winking at her.

Fii stuck her tongue out at her. "Shut up. I know it's lame."

"Nah, it's sweet." Tweak patted Fii's cheek. "I'm touched you care about me so much. Really, I am."

"Ugh," Fii groaned. "I just don't want you to get hurt. Or worse, turned into a smear of red paste when some hired goon busts down your door." She paused, looking around the hideout. "Although, given how well you've hidden this place, I doubt they could find you even if they wanted to."

"Ah, see, now you're getting it." Tweak gestured at her lair. "This place? It's a fortress, baby. A digital fortress. They could try to find me till their eyes turn inside-out. But let's just say..." She cracked her knuckles and wiggled her fingers. "My skills make it a wee bit more complicated than that."

Fii rolled her eyes. "Your modesty is inspiring. Truly." She grinned at Tweak. "You're such a show-off, you know that?"

"You love it," Tweak teased, sticking her tongue out at her. "Speaking of my place, my offer still stands. I think it's better if you lived here with me instead of hiding out in that shoebox of yours sandwiched between two buildings. I've got a spare room. Wouldn't take long to set it up."

"Heeeeey!" Fii pouted, crossing her arms. "That's my home you're talking about. It might not be as flashy as this little dive of yours, but it's mine. I earned it myself. And it's pretty damn cozy. And my neighborhood is nice and they watch out for me, okay?"

"All right, all right, no need to get all defensive. I'm just saying, you're always welcome here. My door's always open. Well, not open. More like... accessible to a select few."

"Thanks, but I like having my own space."

Tweak raised her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay, I get it. Love the nest, don't wanna leave it." She let out an exaggerated sigh. "And here I was, looking forward to us becoming roomies. Another chance for that dream team."

Fii ruffled Tweak's hair, her face softening into a smile. "Thanks, really. But I like my space, and we both know you need yours. It works for us, you know?"

Tweak responded with a cheeky grin. "Oh, just admit it. You just want a place where you and Quinn can play house without me walking in on you two doing the horizontal mambo."

Fii's cheeks flushed crimson. "Wha—You—That's—"

"Right on the money?" Tweak finished, laughing. "Come on, your poker face is as solid as wet tissue paper. You've been dating that guy for a few months now. And here you are, with the biggest, cheesiest, lovesick grin on your face. Don't think I don't notice these things." She leaned back in her chair. "So... Tell me! The sex must be great, right? I've got to live vicariously through someone, y'know?"

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Fii turned away, still flushed. "Oh my god, Tweak! Can we please not talk about this?" She crossed her arms, looking around the room at anything but Tweak. "Besides, you're one to talk, Miss 'I'm too busy for relationships.' How's your love life going, huh?"

"Ouch," Tweak said in mock indignation, placing a hand on her chest. "Straight for the heart, I see."

She swiveled around in her chair, grinning. "But seriously, you can tell me if he's any good. Inquiring minds want to know." Tweak leaned closer, nudging Fii with an elbow. "C'mon. We're pals, right? Share the juicy details. What's the worst that could happen?"

Fii huffed and pushed her chair back, standing up. "I'm not having this conversation. You're the worst."

"Okay, okay, fine!" Tweak laughed, waving her off. "I'll quit poking the bear. Or in this case, the bunny."

"Good," Fii said, heading for the exit. "I'm leaving. You can live in blissful ignorance of my love life."

Tweak made kissy faces at her as she left. "Have fun. Just remember, safe sex is the best sex!"

Fii's parting shot was a rude gesture as the secret door sealed behind her. Despite her annoyance, a smile played at the corners of her mouth. Tweak's humor was relentless but never malicious, and it was moments like these that reminded her why they were such good friends.

In a dimly-lit, run-down gym, Quinn stood shirtless at the center, his gloved fists raised defensively. Across from him, an instructor in a sleeveless hoodie and sweatpants assumed a similar stance. Quinn's eye darted around the room, taking in the worn punching bags, the fraying ring ropes, the rusting water fountain, and the flickering fluorescent lights. The smell of old sweat mingled with the dust in the air, tickling his nose.

"Remember, don't lock your arms when you punch. Keep a slight bend in the elbow." His instructor's voice was gruff, yet patient. "And don't over-extend. You'll throw yourself off balance."

The pair circled each other, their movements cautious yet fluid. A feint, a dodge, a swift attack. Then came the jarring impact of his fist against his opponent's glove. Quinn winced at the sting, but there was no time to dwell on it. A swift jab caught him by surprise, snapping his head back. The follow-up cross struck him hard in the side, causing him to stumble back, gasping.

"That's what I mean." His instructor lowered his guard. "You over-extend, and someone quicker is going to capitalize on that opening."

Quinn nodded, his breath heavy. "Got it. Focus on control."

"Right. Again."

As they resumed sparring, the gym echoed with the sound of shuffling feet and gloves hitting targets. Sweat trickled down Quinn's brow, stinging his eyes. He blinked it away, refocusing his attention on his opponent. This time, as he threw a punch, he kept his arm slightly bent. He felt his strength channel through his fist, the impact resounding and satisfying. His opponent nodded approvingly and signaled for a break.

"Not bad, kid," he said, removing his helmet and gloves. His face was rugged, marred by a couple of scars. "You're coming along nicely. Still a lot to learn, but you're improving."

Quinn offered a tired smile. "Thanks, Russ. Means a lot." He accepted a water bottle, draining half of it in one gulp. "Sorry about the hits."

The older man waved it off. "Part of the job. It's not like you're the first rookie to catch me flat-footed. Won't be the last, either." He gave Quinn a clap on the shoulder. "How's that new eye treating you?"

"Pretty well," Quinn said, rubbing his scarred brow above the cyber-implant that now replaced his left eye. "Wasn't a cheap implant, but the guy who did it worked wonders. Just hope that'll be the only time I need to visit the Chop Shop."

"Yeah? Doc Cavill do good work, eh?" Russ chuckled, picking up his towel from the ring ropes. He began to wipe the sweat off his forehead, revealing a glint of chrome above his hairline. "That's where I got my skull replacement after a nasty scrap. Old Cavill patched me up good as new."

He gestured at Quinn. "He do anything fancy with it? Like giving you enhanced vision or something?"

"Well..." Quinn rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I didn't ask for it, but he threw in night vision and a zoom feature. Just a little bonus, he said." His gaze lowered, feeling a tad guilty.

"Lucky bastard." Russ laughed. "All I got is a titanium brainpan. No fancy add-ons."

Quinn laughed, his hand coming to rest on his left temple, gently tracing the scar that curved down his cheek. "Yeah, lucky indeed."

Russ's laughter faded. "That reminds me. Speaking of being lucky... How's that girl of yours? What's her name again?"

"Fii," Quinn replied, a warm smile spreading across his face. "She's doing great."

"That's the one. Can't believe a guy like you managed to land a girl like that," Russ said, grinning. "I hear she took out that Super called Prime and brought most of the gangs in the slums to heel. Is that true?"

"Yeah," Quinn said, a hint of pride in his voice. "She's pretty incredible."

"I bet. Still surprised you're with her. I'd think someone like that would be out of your league."

Quinn shrugged. "We just... mesh well together, you know? I mean, sure, sometimes I get a bit jealous. Who wouldn't, right? Especially with her being a Super and everything."

"But you're still holding on to her?" Russ asked, eyebrows raised.

Quinn chuckled. "Well, I'm a bit tenacious." He stretched, easing a kink out of his shoulder. "Guess that's why I keep coming here to get my ass handed to me."

"A good trait to have," Russ said, slapping Quinn's back. "Glad to hear you guys are doing well. Reminds me of my own missus. Been a year, but I still miss her every day."

Quinn paused. "Yeah?"

"She was a tough lady. Ex-mercenary, you know? Ran with the Broken Hearts back in their day." Russ smiled, looking off into the distance. "She had this tattoo of a rose right across her chest, and these wicked scars that..." He trailed off, his smile turning wistful. "Ah, sorry, kid. Didn't mean to get all sentimental on you."

Quinn shook his head. "Nah, it's fine. I understand. It's nice to hear about other people's love lives. Gives me hope for my own, you know?"

"Aw, you kids are fine," Russ said. "Just make sure to treat her right, okay?"

"Of course." Quinn smiled. "Wouldn't dream of doing otherwise."

Russ scratched his stubbled jaw. "Hmm. Hey, someone might have asked you this already, but what's it like... er, you know?" He waved a hand suggestively. "With a Super?"

Quinn nearly dropped his water bottle. "Wh-what?"

"You heard me."

"That's a bit personal, Russ."

"I'm just curious, man."

"More like nosy," Quinn said, trying to keep a straight face.

Russ chuckled. "Guilty as charged. But seriously, aren't they five or six times stronger and tougher than us? Does that affect... things?"

"Are you really asking me about my sex life?"

"Come on, kid. I've been training you for months now. We should be past the awkward stage."

"Really? You've been training me how to fight, not how to sleep with women."

"So?" Russ shrugged. "Consider it a bonus lesson." He grinned. "I'll throw in a few tips and tricks from my own experience if you're willing to share. Knowledge is meant to be shared, kid."

"I'm sure it is." Quinn hesitated. It was a bit weird to talk about his private life, but... well, Russ wasn't completely wrong. They'd been training together for a while, and despite the man's gruffness, he seemed to care.

Still, some things were off-limits. "I'm not getting into specifics, all right?"

"All right, all right. Not asking for a play-by-play, just curious about some general stuff."

Quinn sighed, resigned to his fate. "Okay... Look, it's a bit different, yeah. But not in a bad way, just... unexpected at first. You know?"

"Yeah?" Russ leaned in, interest evident on his face.

"And, uh, since we're both... kinda new at this, we've been learning together. Like, what we like, what feels good, what doesn't." He coughed, his cheeks starting to flush. "But she's... y'know, really sweet and gentle. In fact, I have to encourage her to let loose a bit."

Russ let out a hearty laugh. "Well, ain't that something! Never thought I'd hear someone complain about a partner being too gentle." He clapped Quinn on the back. "But hey, if it's not breaking you, then there's nothing to worry about. Oh! Unless she's the kind of girl who gets carried away and accidentally does some serious damage, if you know what I mean."

Quinn blanched. "Once or twice, we've had a few... mishaps. But luckily, no real injuries. Yet."

Russ grinned. "Damn. That's wild. But hey, at least you're still in one piece. If not, you might want to invest in one of those reinforced hip replacements. 'Cause I've heard that some of those Supers—"

Quinn raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Okay, okay, Russ. That's enough." He felt his face burning. "I really, really don't need to know."

"Hey, just looking out for you, kid." Russ chuckled. "But I'll stop. Just remember to have fun with it. You're a young guy and she's a Super. Enjoy the ride, kid."

Quinn sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Right. Thanks for the... talk. It was definitely an experience."

Russ clapped Quinn on the shoulder once more. "Anytime, kid. "Seriously though, I'm happy for you. Seems like you've found a good one. Keep her close. Don't let her slip away. With the life we lead, we need all the happiness we can get. Got it?"

"Got it," Quinn agreed with a smile. "Thanks, Russ."