Dog danced from foot to foot while he walked. Damnsel, no, he was supposed to call her Tess in public apparently, had taken him and Cole out to lunch. He was fed, the sun was out, he really wanted to go out and do something. He glanced at the store the three were approaching, eyes tighter under his bangs. Something that wasn’t clothes shopping.

Cole, who had been all but bouncing off the walls since they first left, seemed a little off put now too. He adjusted the heavy backpack he wore, full to bursting. “Ah, sorry Miss Da-er, Tess,” he started. “But isn’t that the year-round costume shop?” The tone wasn’t exactly accusatory, like he thought she might be making fun of them, but at least confused.

“Yep,” Tess replied. Undisguised, Cole thought she wore the simple jeans and a smart blouse as comfortably as her armor, which he realized was probably the wrong way around. “It’s actually a chain that caters party costumes to the public and more super variants to the likes of us. With a certain amount of hush, hush, of course.”

“Oh.” A little rush of elation returned. Cole felt like he had been so casually let in on a huge secret! Still…”Isn’t that kind of…obvious?” he asked.

“Oh yes,” she answered. “Every half-cocked investigator starts here whenever they look into superheroes, especially new ones. Gives us a great head start.” Cole blinked.

“Huh…so does everybody in the, ah,” he glanced around the mostly empty parking lot, “business, get their costumes here first?”

Tess chuckled. “Well, anyone new who pops up tends to get an invitation eventually.” The proud smile she always seemed to wear grew a little. “You two are lucky to have someone like me cut through the red tape for you. A lot of newbies that make their own first costumes…well, it’s a good thing it takes awhile for the buzz to catch up.”

Half-hidden in the mess of his hair, Dog’s ears perked. “Cole, is that why you were trying to teach me how to sew?” Cole flushed from cheeks to ears.

“Ah, no, it’s really a very relaxing hobby,” he said. Tess took a farther lead to push the stores doors open while the two spoke.

“Derek says its homosexual,” Dog said

“Gay,” Cole replied automatically, irritated but with the air of a man defeated. Dog’s whole head quirked.

“What’s the difference?” Either paid only idle attention to the rows upon rows of costumes they walked past.

“Using ‘homosexual’ like that is offensive,” Cole said, then paused. “Wait, no, they’re both offensive, but-”

“Theresa, my lovely child!” Both snapped to attention as the voice rang out, lyrical but clearly masculine. Cole’s eyes widened. He tried hard not to be ‘that guy,’ but he couldn’t stop the thought that ran through his head:

That is the gayest man I have ever seen.

Sharp, androgynous features that might have erred on the side of masculinity if not for the long eyelashes and plucked eye-brows, were framed by a royal purple feather boa. Long, expertly curled black hair filled out the remaining space between the boa and the bronzed skin of his neck. A loose white shirt, almost a blouse, closed down the middle with ruffles, fed into tight black pants which themselves quickly disappeared into thigh-high boots that clicked as he made his way toward them, arms wide.  Cole was not sure if he had ever actually seen someone strut before, but that was the only word for it.

Tess smiled, a vaguely resigned twist to her lips, as she stepped into a full-body embrace.”Good to see you, Chevreau.”

“You are looking as exquisite as always, my sweetling!” he declared, but paused. His hands pulled away from her back and rose to cup her chest, which he eyed inquisitively. Cole’s mouth dropped; Damnsel’s smile grew a little more forced, but the man’s face was not immediately smashed in.

Or the most brilliant straight man ever.

“Ah!” he cried, not letting go. “You have not been wearing the brassiere I designed for you!” This sounded almost accusatory. His pout did not change as the super heroine pulled his wrists away and twisted them with the same smooth movement she used to bend steel.

“I never agreed to that ridiculous contraption,” she said. “I’m a hero, not one of your show girls.”

“Every one can be beautiful,” he said, like a teacher with a slow student. Tess mouthed the words while Chevreau was distracted, like a student who was quite familiar with this particular lecture. “And it would be such a waste not to take proper care of a figure like yours! It’s going to get a lot harder on you in a few years, you know? Something to keep in mind, if you keep putting off snagging the right man.” His posture changed suddenly, and his eyes took on a different light as a smirk played across his lips.

“~Even a blind man can still feel, you know~”

It was lucky he had slipped out of her grasp at some point, Cole thought, the grip Damnsel was keeping on the air looked to be of the distinctly bone-breaking sort. Then she exhaled explosively and relaxed her hands, letting them fall to her sides while Chevreau returned to a look of motherly disappointment.

“What are you even doing in a place like this?” she asked.

“Oh, just doing a tour of local talents,” he said. He absently stroked the feather boa. “Spending a little time with the new generation keeps me feeling young, you know.” Tess snorted. Cole wouldn’t have thought the guy was that old, but maybe that was the joke. Then again, even at a second look he couldn’t really get a good vibe for his age. Somewhere between 30 and… 50, maybe?

“And what about you, dear?” he asked. “You haven’t gotten tired of my work already, have you?” Chevreau looked about ready to faint at the notion, but something made the hairs on the back of Dog’s neck rise. He had paid little attention after the man had approached, his gaze lazily drifting through the rows of costumes, but now he felt eyes on him.

“I found some new talent of my own,” Tess replied. “I came to get them properly fitted for their first official patrol. Boys, this is Chevreau, the man behind suits for a number of A-listers, myself included.”

“Mhm,” Chevreau muttered. His posture changed again, and he stepped out around Tess to Cole. The boy snapped to attention.

“Ah, yes, I’m-” then Chevreau grabbed his cheeks between two expertly manicured fingers and jerked his head from left to right.

“This is Cole and Adam,” Tess said. An amused smiled had worked its way back. “Adam prefers to be called Dog.”

Chevreau made another noncommittal sound while he inspected Cole like a horse at the market. “I see. Boy, how do you fight? Grappling?”

“Er, yeah,” he replied. The hand had moved from this jaws to his shoulders and started patting down. He exchanged a look with Tess, who just kept smiling. “My high school doesn’t have a wrestling team but I still practice a little. I’ve gotten in a couple scraps, too,” he hadn’t meant to mention that! “Er, only in the gym I practice at, I mean. It’s MMA-aah!” He squeaked when hands grabbed his butt.

“This new ‘parkour,’ thing, too, yes?” Chevreau mused. He released the suddenly statue-still boy to inspect his hands. “And metalwork, a garage, I suppose.” He looked up, dark eyes catching Cole’s. “You are handy with gadgets,” it was more of a statement,but Cole nodded anyway. His free hand brushed the strap of his back pack.

“I-I’ve built a couple of things, simple stuff but Miss Damnsel said I should bring it,” he’d started babbling. Chevreau had already stepped back, as if to regard him fully, but his eyes looked distant.

“What is your power, child?” he asked. That snapped Cole back.

“Electricity,” he said. “I can shock people, and I’ve gotten hit by lightning a bunch of times, but it never really hurt me much.”

“Yes, yes, very pulp, a little modern,” Chevreau muttered. “Careful bits of metal, perhaps, especial flexibility…Monica!” A woman appeared from behind him, a porcelain-skinned brunette who filled out a no-nonsense women’s business suit. Cole started; she was not a small woman, but she had been completely concealed by Chevreau’s presence. The way Dog jumped when she showed herself made him nervous in a way even a face that pretty could not dismiss.  No one could sneak up on Dog. Any reaction she may have had to them was concealed by large but tasteful sunglasses. She handed Chevreau a smartphone. “Thank-you, darling.” He casually typed something with the one hand, then returned the phone  without looking back. “Do send that to Miss Margaret, would you? This one could be a little difficult.” Cole wasn’t sure how to take that, but the man had already moved on.

He reached for Dog’s face, who leaned back on reflex, but the hand followed faster and fingers snaked around his jaw. The normally twitchy boy put up with the manhandling fairly well after that. Although, joints locked stiff and lips twisted into a frown, he made no effort to disguise his displeasure. “Strength, agility, the whole package, hm?” Chevreau said, hands running along Dogs limbs. He glanced back up. “Really child, such bangs? You have sharp eyes, do not hide them.” Quick as a whip, he flicked at the hair shadowing Dog’s features.

A split second, and Dog was out of arms’ reach entirely, snarling. Fangs, too many and too long for human incisors, flashed. Cole had never realized how much his friend looked like an actual hound, and then the moment was over.

Tess had been watching the goings-on quietly with all the amusement of a high school senior watching a freshman get reamed by an old professor, tipsy from schadenfreude. In an instant every muscle was coiled to spring, then relaxed. Her eyes flickered between man and boy.

“…I don’t like it when people touch my head,” Dog said, and drew the hair back around over his ears. “Sorry,” came later, and sullenly.

Chevreau’s arm was still out. It came to rest under his chin and the briefest, indecipherable expression became a toothy smile, dark eyes twinkling.

“Aha,” Chevreau said. “You are aptly named, my little Dog.”

“Call me Adam,” he replied. Cole blinked, broken away from staring at the creepy designer and his friend. His tone wasn’t exactly sharp or anything, but Dog had never objected to anyone calling him that. Not even when he first started teasing him with the nickname.

Chevreau opened his mouth. “That’s enough sexual harassment for one day, I think,” Tess said. She was smiling again. “I promised I’d get these two suited up, not molested, and you’re keeping them from their appointment.”

Chevreau put a hand to his chest. “Oh, what base things you accuse me of! This is Art!” Damnsel’s smile did not move. He shook his head in wide, sweeping motions that returned his curls and boa to a careful rest afterward. “Very well, my dear, I’ll be on my way. Theresa, darling, you’re really too tense, you have to know when to break from the schedule. I’ll have Monica call you about a day-out sometime, I’ve found a wonderful little cafe tucked away downtown. The chef there will be going places soon, mark my words.”

“Sounds lovely,” Tess replied. She nodded to Monica as she followed Chevreau past them. “A pleasure seeing you again, Money.”

“Likewise.” A small smile flitted along Monica’s otherwise motionless face.

“Good luck, my boys! I’ll look forward to hearing about your exploits,” Chevreau called over his shoulder, waving. Cole caught himself waving back, then brought his hand down awkwardly.

“Sorry about that,” Tess said after the doors closed. “He can be a bit…intense, but the old queen is brilliant at what he  does.”

“No problem,” Cole replied. He peeked at Dog, who just shrugged.

“If you’re tapped out we can come back another day,” Tess said. “But Margaret is much less invasive, I swear. You’ll be in and out in no time,” she paused, “once she’s recovered from whatever trouble he ran her through.”

“It’s fine,” Dog said, earning him two looks. He rolled his head back, briefly exposing his neck. “We have that appointment thing, right?”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Cole said, still looking at Dog out of the corner of his eye. “I’m more excited than ever, if anything.”

“Good.” Tess started walking. “If you boys can keep that spirit through Chevreau’s antics you’ll go far in this business.”