1.13 Disapproval From High Up
As a random C-Class superheroine, Ava had never been important enough to be contacted by an agent of the Hero Association. So imagine her surprise when her phone vibrated, and it wasn’t Clash messaging her, but a woman who introduced herself as Agent Stein. Being contacted by the Hero Association was very much a ‘no news is good news’ situation, so her stomach sank the moment she saw the text.
Ava set up a time they could meet. It had to be today, or the next. The agent didn’t provide context for why they were getting together, or why it was urgent. Ava had a few guesses.
Ava showed up at Capital City’s Hero Association Headquarters—the HA-HQ—that same day, right after her shift at Paradise Pizzeria. She wore her Spotlight uniform. She tried not to flush at the intrigued looks she received from some of the staff; of course Ava’s intimate stunt was known around HA staffers as much as the public. More, probably.
The lobby of the HA-HQ was a wide and welcoming space, with posters on the walls and a pristine interior. People milled about in professional uniforms, both heroes and employees alike. Posters hung on the wall, depicting the Association's various S-Classers in dramatic and flattering poses. The floor gleamed under the bright overhead lights. She was led to a meeting room, where Agent Stein stood to greet her.
Agent Stein was a stern-looking woman in her thirties. Her eyes were a piercing cold gray-blue, and she wore a business suit that Ava inappropriately noted hid little of her curves—even emphasized them. Her thoughts had been running more and more debauched in recent weeks. That’s what having sex constantly on the mind does.
Agent Stein shook her hand, then gestured with a ‘please, sit’ at the free chair across her desk.
Ava settled in.
“Do you know why I arranged this meeting, Spotlight?”
She cleared her throat. “I can, uh, guess.”
“We decided to forgive the first breach,” Agent Stein said. “A hero is expected to hold themselves to a high ideal—to the ideals of the Hero Association—but accidents happen. We assumed you didn’t need reprimand. That the event had been accidental, and upsetting enough without official intervention.”
Ava shifted awkwardly. Of course they had a P.R. meeting about a hero getting herself off in front of a live audience. She wondered what that had been like. Had they listened to the audio? Ava had thought she’d gotten over the mortifying event, but these recent revelations were bringing back a hint of that initial shame. Her cheeks colored, and she squirmed in her chair.
“Right,” Ava said. “What, uh, changed your mind?”
“Your behavior last night,” Agent Stein said flatly. “Your display with Clash, specifically. Do I need to be more specific?”
When I glued a dildo to Clash’s crotch. They surely didn’t know Clash could feel through it, but it had been an inappropriate display by itself. Heroes were supposed to act with more discretion. With more appropriateness.
Ava—or Brooke, if she were being honest—had expected this meeting to happen, but they’d thought further down the line. The Hero Association’s guidelines weren’t strictly enforced.
They didn’t have a game plan for dealing with this, beyond Ava pretending to show contrition then continuing to act how she was before. Brooke didn’t think the Hero Association would actually disown her—that only happened when a cape turned villain. Ava couldn’t think of any examples where a hero was expelled from the Hero Association in other circumstances.
So this was a slap on the wrist. A verbal dressing down. Ava had to pretend to be contrite. Just nod along.
And play dumb.
Look at me, I’m a dumb blonde who accidentally went too far with sexual content. Just trying to be funny, that’s it. Promise.
“The uh. Demonstration of my powers, right?”
“Precisely.”
Ava swallowed and glanced at the door. “I, uh. Didn’t really think about what I was doing. Sometimes I go on auto pilot, on stream. And making light of … you know, sexual stuff? …” the cringe was only half an act, “I thought it would show, you know, that I don’t care about what happened. So people would get off my back about it.” She shifted in her seat.
Agent Stein’s expression softened the smallest amount. She didn’t seem like the type of woman to have much give, but Ava’s words had worked to build sympathy.
Ava felt bad about lying—this whole thing was a farce, from the ground up—but Ava needed to get over it. She’d be doing worse, going further than she had with half-truths and dishonesty, as she vied for the public’s attention.
“Regardless,” Agent Stein said. “A statement needs to be made. Your behavior is unbefitting a hero. While we empathize with your situation, you’ve stepped past what is acceptable. As such, we’ve docked your stipend for the following month, and—”
“What?” Ava blurted out. The HA stipend might not be anything impressive, but a few hundred bucks went a long way, for all she complained about the paltry amount. “You can’t—you can’t do that. I need that money.”
“And further infractions,” Agent Stein said firmly, ignoring Ava’s protests. “Will result in more of the same. Or worse, disbarment from the Association. I don’t think you realize the seriousness of what you’ve done, Spotlight. We can’t have heroes behaving as you did last night. We have a reputation, and image, to uphold.”
“I need that money,” Ava repeated dumbly. She couldn’t give a shit about anything else, much less the scolding Agent Stein was trying to give her. She and Brooke had already gone into debt setting up this ploy of theirs, and while the stipend was only a dent in that problem, it was still a few hundred bucks. This was supposed to be a slap on the wrist. A scolding, but not more.
“Then I suggest you treat your career with greater gravity,” Agent Stein said. “For what it’s worth, we’re sorry it came to this. The Association isn’t your enemy.”
Ava stared at her.
Agent Stein stood and walked to the door, opening it for her. “I hope this is the last time we need to speak to you,” she said. “Have a nice night, Spotlight.”
###
“Damn,” Brooke said. “I mean, it’s not a huge problem, but it worries me. Maybe they take this stuff more seriously than I thought.” Her brow was furrowed. “That would be … a problem.”
“A problem,” Ava said dryly. “Yeah, a little more than a problem.”
“Then again,” Brooke said. “Is it? Worst case scenario, the Association cuts ties with you. Doesn’t mean you’re no longer a hero. Most heroes stick with the Association, but there’s some who don’t.”
“We needed that money, Brooke.”
“Yeah,” she said, “but maybe we move our plans along. Double down.”
Ava went quiet.
“If you’re—” Brooke started.
“I’ll tell you if I’m not,” Ava interrupted her. Then, realizing her response had been a bit snappish, she corrected herself. “I appreciate you looking out for me. More than you’ll ever know. But this is my choice. And really—who cares? If I want to use my body, I’ll use my body. If I don’t, then I won’t.”
“But do you?” Brooke asked. “Really, Ava? Or are you doing this because we’re in too deep? My … stunt with the credit cards. I forced you into this, didn’t I?”
“For being so smart,” Ava said, “You’re really dumb sometimes. You’re going to make me say it?”
“Say it?”
Ava met Brooke’s eyes, then glanced away, flushing. “You watched the video.” They hadn’t brought this topic up yet, and it needed to be. Ava was used to one-hundred percent disclosure to Brooke, and the several days she hadn’t had been eating at her. “You listened to me. You know … it was real.” The words escaped her, mortifying, but also freeing. “I can tell. You did, didn’t you?”
There was a brief silence.
“I—I didn’t mean to—” Brooke started.
“I’m not upset. But you did?”
“... I did.”
“And you know I wasn’t … acting.”
Brooke colored. “I guessed. You wanted it to be authentic.”
“That,” Ava said, “and because it turned me on.”
The statement sat in the air for a bit.
“Oh,” Brooke said.
“I’m not even really sure what came over me,” Ava said, the floodgates open. “But oh my god, Brooke, I can’t even describe it. It was so hot. I couldn’t help myself. Is something wrong with me? The idea people were listening in did something to me. I lasted like, a minute. You heard that. I got off, I don’t even know. Six times? In thirty minutes? It was insane.”
“Um,” Brooke said. “Eight.”
Ava paused.
Brooke paled, realizing what she’d said.
“Paid close attention, did you?” Ava teased. She wasn’t sure where the confidence came from. Maybe it was Brooke’s squirming fueling it. She tried not to pay attention to what it meant that Brooke had paid ‘close attention’ to Ava getting herself off. That she knew exactly how many times she’d come. Maybe she listened more than once.
Maybe she liked listening.
Maybe she’d gotten herself off to it. One of Ava’s many spectators.
“The point is,” Ava said, not quite able to broach the topic yet. Brooke was her best friend, but she didn’t like Ava like that, did she? “That maybe I’m … less apprehensive … about all this than I was at the start. Maybe I want to do it. Maybe I want to move our plans along faster, because it’s too slow. And I want to do more.” She grabbed Brooke’s knee and squeezed. “And without a doubt, you didn’t ‘force me’ into anything.”
Brooke didn’t meet her eyes. Ava savored how red her face was. “That’s good. I’m glad I didn’t. I was worried.”
“So. Moving plans along. Monetizing our fanbase. The tips from the website are nice, but really not significant. Yesterday’s stream had a hundred something viewers. We can turn that into something, make up for the HA fucking us.”
“The photo shoot?”
“I think it’s time for the photo shoot,” Ava agreed. “And we might even be able to spice it up. I think I can get Clash to join me.”