"I'm sorry, I still think sneakin' out of the hotel in trenchcoats in mid-summer is just too obvious," Vickie muttered.

"Bright blue kinda sticks out more in the dark than a trenchcoat," Crystal replied in a bored tone that suggested she had explained this more than once.

"And wearin' bright blue was your genius idea."

"Figured if we ever caved and told the front office what we were doin', we could get the team to outfit us, or give us somethin' for what we're doin'."

Vickie stopped short in the hallway. "Is that what you're in it for, C-Rob?" she asked suddenly, the dim light casting depthless shadows on her face. "Do you want people to know you 'cause of this, not 'cause of what you do on the court? You lookin' for attention and fame?"

"It'd be nice, but that ain't what I got into either of these businesses for, and you know that as well as anyone!" In her indignation, Crystal let her voice rise to louder than normal speaking volume- a sharper contrast than usual because they had both been talking very quietly.

A slipper shuffled. Crystal and Vickie resisted the urge to turn around as Tari stumbled out of her room. "Crystal? VJ? Guys. Go to bed. It's one in the morning, how do you have any energy to be up?" She rubbed her eyes and tried to glare at them; it didn't work well because she had to squint until her eyes adjusted to the lights.

"You're not the boss of us, Tari, we can be up if we want to be," Crystal said defiantly. "As it happens, I was thirsty and Vickie decided to keep me company."

"You need a buddy to get a drink? This isn't really kindergarten. What's really up with you two?"

"What's with the cross-examination, anyway? We're grownups, we can take care of ourselves."

Tari crossed her arms. "You woke me up. This means it's my business. Would you turn and face me? I hate talking to your back."

"TP, quit motherin' us. We'll be back for the bus in the mornin', don't you worry. We ain't plannin' to cause trouble."

"Much," Crystal murmured under her breath.

"I heard that."

"So did I. And she's wrong. Aren't you, C-Rob? We'd best get goin'." Vickie started down the hall at a brisk pace, dragging Crystal by the sleeve. Tari looked more closely at the two of them.

"Are you two wearing trenchcoats? In July? Are you insane?"

"Well, if you had to choose 'tween me traispin' 'round in a trenchcoat or me traispin' 'round in nothin' but what the good Lord gave me to start with, which would you rather I do?" Crystal asked with a mischievous glitter in her eye.

Tari shuddered. "You know, I don't even want to know why you aren't wearing any clothes. Or why Vickie looks like she's about to have a panic attack, though it might have to do with you not wearing any clothes. I just. I don't want to know." She abandoned this line of questioning and retreated to her room, closing the door very firmly behind her.

"That was the best you could come up with?"

"'Scuse me, but did it or did it not work?"

"In the short term, but you know she's goin' to have questions for us in the mornin'. You never think ahead."

"And you don't do anythin' but, so that evens us out. I was wond'rin' what made us such a great team." Crystal flashed a smile at which Vickie rolled her eyes.

"Come on with you now. We've got a job to do. And, uh, your cape fell. You might want to consider tuckin' it up into your coat a bit, if we're goin' to keep these things on for a while."

Crystal had the grace to look somewhat embarrassed as she reached behind herself and tugged the bright blue cape out of sight. "I look a damn fool, don't I?"

"Never thought you cared 'bout that sort of thing. Besides, you should be able to get it out without too much trouble once we dump the coats. We need to stop usin' them, 'cause I'm tired of buyin' new ones in each city. It's a drag on both our wallets." Vickie shrugged and let the silence join them as another companion until they were a block or two from the hotel. "I think it's safe now to change. No streetlights, no strangers- I think we're good to go."

Crystal nodded, shifting immediately into a different mode that almost none of her teammates ever saw, one more suited to the small hours where a wrong move meant more than just embarrassment. Sharp reflexes were a help, and while she wasn't the fastest woman in the world she had a knack for finding the right place to be at any given time. Her deadeye aim had also proven to be handy for more than just three-point shots (though she had noticed that as her aim in other fields improved, her three-point shot became less accurate, but there were always tradeoffs in life). And in this world, sometimes it was just enough to be a tall, strong woman; there had been a few occasions when she and Vickie had gotten trouble running just because they were there.

It was an odd partnership the two of them had forged. Though they had more superficial things in common with each other than with any of their other teammates, and though they seemed similar in temperament, they were two different personalities. Crystal was much more laid back than Vickie could ever be, while Vickie could raise her intensity level and narrow her focus far better than Crystal could. Crystal's preferred method of dealing with stress was with a couple of curse words and some carefully placed jokes; Vickie tended to get very tense, even quieter than usual, self-blaming, and a bit snappish. But their differences played off one another so that no matter the situation, at least one of them would be ready to face it.

A sound at the edge of hearing caused her train of thought to pull the emergency brake. Vickie saw her concern and immediately prepared to defend herself; she didn't know what Crystal had heard, only that it worried her partner, and that was good enough for her. The trenchcoat was gone in a heartbeat, revealing a blue bodysuit; it wasn't nearly as skintight as the ones in the comic books, because both women had found that they couldn't move properly that way. Nor were there any unnecessary removals of fabric that would reveal cleavage (such as there was) or midriff. They had concluded that while there probably was a contract that required all female superheroes to dress like hookers, no one had asked them to sign it and so they were exempt from it.

Crystal joined her a second later, adjusting her mask slightly. A full face mask in the heat of summer was extremely uncomfortable, but neither of them wanted to take the chance that one of the people they rescued was a WNBA fan who would recognize them. She pointed the way and they started running. "A little girl. Lord knows why she's out 'lone this hour of the night, but she is, and there's a real nasty piece of business just 'bout to-" She stopped, because they'd been doing this for five years now, and Vickie always knew what she meant when she stopped like that. She couldn't say what the man wanted to do to the little girl; the thought was just too disgusting for her to voice.

This time Vickie could hear the screaming too. "We're close." Behind the mask, her eyes narrowed. Crimes against children angered her more than anything else, and only the fact that she knew Crystal could handle the situation better than she could kept her from doing something rash.

"Close 'nough," Crystal agreed. They were near enough to see silhouettes in the alley, ghostly shadows acting out a gruesome story. She reached into the pack slung over her back and withdrew a wickedly curved boomerang. It only took the barest trace of a moment for her to aim and throw. The flickering streetlight showed the man falling to the sidewalk. "Go talk to the kid, I'll keep lookout."

Vickie flinched. "That's not a good idea," she whispered. "You should take care of her, I'll be fine."

"You got a reason?"

Vickie was forced to admit, "No, just a hunch. But it's a strong one, trust me."

"That Second Sight of yours been off the last three times you used it," Crystal scoffed, purposely using a term that she knew Vickie hated; Vickie always claimed that her hunches were based solely on probabilities and likelihoods, and had nothing to do with the mystical. "Go take care of the girl."

It wasn't worth an argument. Vickie worked her way down from the roof along the fire escape while Crystal kept watch. The girl, a black-haired doll about six years old, watched her with frightened eyes. "Are you okay? ¿Estás bien?" Vickie asked, using both languages because the odds were pretty good that the girl spoke Spanish.

Sobbing, the little girl threw herself into Vickie's arms. "I thought he was going to save me from the bad men, and he did, but then he took off his pants and he was going to-"

"What bad men?" Vickie asked. The girl pointed at the roof of the apartment building. Vickie looked up to see Crystal engaged in pitched battle with three hulking figures. "Oh... no." She very quickly engaged herself in a heated debate about whether she should stay and protect the girl or run back to help Crystal. Her decision made, she dashed up the fire escape, tossing a quick "Stay there, I'll be right back" over her shoulder to the girl. By the time she reached the roof again, Crystal had downed two of the goons. The third one was causing her trouble, though, because he was unusually agile for someone so large; he also had a gun and a knack for reloading. Vickie waited just a moment longer, then leaped on the remaining goon, knocking him to the ground and forcing the gun out of his hand. When he scrambled to his feet, she swept out her leg and dropped him again. Vickie picked up the gun and held it on him while Crystal took out a nasty-looking knife.

"Start somethin'. I dare you," Crystal said to their prisoner. She had to give him points for nerve, because he tried to attack them. She reversed the knife and hit the goon over the head with the hilt. He fell back, unconscious. Vickie had already departed to tie up the other two. Crystal reached for her own coil of rope to restrain the last, but as she tried to put her right hand around the rope, a sharp pain stabbed through her pinky finger. "Oh, crap, I need a hand over here."

Vickie looked up. "In a sec."

"Well, hurry, he's comin' to and I don't think I can handle him 'gain."

"What have you managed to get yourself into?" Vickie asked as she came over and tied up the last goon.

"Dunno." Crystal moved her hand slightly to try to get it into a better light. "Somethin' don't look right here. Ow, shit."

"We'll look at it downstairs," Vickie said. "Follow me already, would you? There's a little girl down there who's already been marked by two different kinds of bad guys, and I'm not 'bout to leave her 'lone any more than I really have to."

They descended from the roof, Crystal handling the railing very gingerly. It took her a moment to make the jump from the final rung of the fire escape because she didn't trust her grip. Vickie eventually had to pull her down. "Are you here? Niña, ¿estás aquí?"

The girl came out from behind a dumpster. "I was so scared, but all the bad men are gone now, right?"

"Yes, dear. Where are you from, anyways? You shouldn't be out by yourself," Crystal said, stroking the girl's hair with her good hand.

"I- mamá and papá were real sick, I-" The girl stopped. It was abundantly clear to both women that she was lying through her teeth.

"We'll take care of you a bit," Vickie promised. She looked over at Crystal quickly, and the message was clear: as soon as they humanly could, they would drop the girl at the nearest police station. Though they didn't always agree on matters, this was one time when they knew exactly what they had to do. "Get over here, partner, you said you were havin' a problem. Let me take a look." Crystal gave Vickie her gloved hand. Vickie gave Crystal a frustrated glare and tore the glove off. Crystal shrieked as Vickie examined her hand quickly. "Hush up now, wouldn't want you gettin' a rep on the streets for bein' a crybaby."

"Low blow," Crystal grated out through gritted teeth. "I'm gonna get you back for that, you know that, right?"

Vickie smiled serenely and tightened the makeshift bandage just a little bit more. Crystal cursed at her with unusual eloquence. "Now stop that, there's a child listenin'. Didn't you learn manners?"

"We are gonna take this up later, when you don't have that sweet little girl to use as an excuse," Crystal promised, dark brown eyes hardening as she glared at Vickie. Vickie decided that she was going to ignore Crystal's complaints and finished tying off the bandage.

The girl had been watching them with curious dark eyes. "Are you okay?" she asked Crystal quietly.

"I'll be fine, sweetheart. I'm more worried 'bout you- you all right? Did any of the bad men do anythin' to you?"

The girl shook her head. "I hid from them and they didn't fine me 'till the other man came along and he didn't do anything 'cause she hit him really hard." She pointed at Vickie, who tried not to look exceedingly proud of herself. Crystal reached out to ruffle the girl's hair, but winced when her injured finger came into contact with the girl's head.

"You were very brave," Vickie told her. "We're gonna take you somewhere where you'll be safe, okay? No one's gonna hurt you. We won't let them."

"D'you promise?"

"I promise."

"I promise too," Crystal said, not wanting to get left out of the moment. This seemed to satisfy the child, and she allowed Crystal to take her to the nearest police station while Vickie waited at the scene of the would-be crimes. "Hey, officers! Anyone feel like roundin' up a would-be molester and a few goons? My sister's waitin' back at the scene to keep 'em from leavin', but we can't stay all night." Crystal fed into the lie that she and Vickie had put out, allowing people to believe that they were sisters in order to deflect any suspicions that might ever come up about their whereabouts.

"You're leaving the girl here?" When Crystal nodded, the officer in charge beckoned to a pair of officers. "Wilson, Dominguez, take one of the vans and follow her directions. I've worked with the Deadeyes before, and they're almost never wrong- and usually they're better than we let ourselves be."

Crystal blushed at the compliment, grateful that the mask hid her face. "Thanks for the kind words, sir. It feels mighty good to be 'preciated." She disguised her frustration; it angered her that the only way she could be recognized for what she did was when no one knew who she was. It was times like these when she wondered why she bothered with one or both, or pretended to be someone that she really wasn't in both instances. But the sight of the girl's wide eyes staring at her with adoration was a sharp reminder of why she did this- the game's explanation would have to come later, and that was always a little harder, and harder every time that she had to recommit herself. Someday she'd run out of reasons to care about basketball, and commit herself completely to life as a Deadeye, she of the unerring hand. Oddly enough, she wasn't looking forward to it.

Curtly, she indicated that the officers should follow her; she wanted to get back to Vickie before anything else could go wrong. It had already been too long a night, and it wouldn't surprise her if it got longer. But the two officers followed her directions with precision and remarkable speed, and before she could get herself out of the pessimistic funk that had enveloped her, they had pulled up in front of the desolate building. The would-be molester hadn't managed to escape, still lying in the alley where they had left him. Vickie led the two officers up the fire escape to where the three bruisers were still tied up. "Sorry we couldn't have made 'em more convenient for you," she apologized.

"Sorry? These three slabs of muscle are among the top ten toughs in the city. We've been looking for them in a dozen assault and robbery cases apiece." Wilson, a wiry redhead, seemed impressed by the catch.

"Wonder why they decided to team up," Dominguez wondered as he read the last goon his rights and formally arrested him.

"We cause them trouble. Guess they decided to make sure we stopped causin' them trouble," Crystal replied.

"They won't have to worry about that now that they're in jail," Wilson said. "Thanks for all your help, ladies. The streets will be much safer without this bunch." The dismissal in his voice was clear as a bell; in his mind, the vigilantes' job was done and now they had to get out of the way and leave the real job to the professionals. Crystal was sorely tempted to stick her tongue out at him.

Vickie was a bit more diplomatic. "Anytime, Officer. We're honored we can help keep your fine city safe while we're here. So good night and give us a holler should you need us." She cast a look at Crystal; even though Vickie's eyes were hidden, Crystal knew that she had been signaled. There were various methods they could use to make their escape, but the simplest would be the most appropriate; without another word spoken, they turned and walked away, slowly fading into the shadows. Only five or six blocks later, when the van had passed them and they were both sure that the officers were out of earshot, did Vickie comment, "Am I the only one he makes feel like somethin' I scraped off my sneaker?"

"No, I'd say he does that to every masked hero he talks to," Crystal agreed, making a face. Again, it was pointless, but it made her feel better. "He's a piece of work. And you just know he's gonna take credit for the nab."

"His commandin' officer won't let it happen. The guy likes and respects us- there's a rarity."

They walked along in silence for a while before Crystal said, "You as beat as I am?"

"More, I bet."

"Let's go back to the hotel. Bet T went back to sleep."

"No bet. You know her too well."

"I'm broke. Why'd you think I tried to make the bet?"

In the morning, when the team woke for practice, Crystal went straight to the team trainer. "Lisa... do you 'member one of the hits the Sparks put on me?"

"Which one?" the slim brunette asked without a hint of humor.

"Must have been near the end of the game- think it was Mabika. Anyway, I woke up this morning-"

"Are you sure about that?" Lisa interrupted, looking askance at the circles under Crystal's eyes.

"Yes, I am. But there's somethin' wrong with my finger- it's not movin' right and it hurts a whole helluva lot. Can you check it out?"

A few brief tests and yelps of pain later, Lisa concluded, "It's broken. How did you manage to break your finger and not notice for two days?"

"This is *Crystal* we're talking about," Tari reminded her, checking to make sure that all of her bandages and braces had made the trip safely. "She went two years without noticing that she looked like a '70s TV refugee, two days with a broken finger is nothing."

"TP, where's your cell phone?"

"I don't know," Tari answered cheerfully. "Hey, I never said I noticed everything either. Maybe you're contagious."

Lisa finished splinting the injured part. "There. That'll do until we find you a brace that fits properly- no, Tari, you can't loan her yours. Your hands are too big."

"She'll need it anyways," Vickie chipped in. She picked up a compress and held it against various sore muscles in turn; she had a lot of old injuries that never had time to heal properly, and so this was all she could do to ameliorate the effects. Before Lisa or Tari could question her statement, she had left the room again.

"Is it just me, or is she being, like, actually weird enough to fit in around here?" Tari asked. Without waiting for an answer, she plowed ahead. "It's about time, she's been here forever- you'd think she'd gotten some kind of personality quirk like the rest of us by now."

"VJ's full of surprises," Crystal said with a forced smile. "I'd guess that none of us knows who she really is."

"Right on there. Hey! What's so damn funny?"