Lucy

Lucy fumed. She had the most insane urge to puff out her cheeks and make 'mou' noises. Part of her was convinced it would help her feel better while the rest of her was dismissing the idea as sheer idiocy. She narrowed her eyes, spotting a distracting gleam of leather from the corner of her eyes.

"Stop the car," she ordered, her head swiveling.

Court obediently pulled over and slipped into a vacant spot. Lucy clambered out of the car, ignoring the 'No Parking' sign she maneuvered around. She turned and started walking.

A few seconds later, she was standing in front of the window display. It was done as if the mannequins were going on a picnic, if picnics were held in autumn. All of them were sporting jackets and boots. There was even a fur ruffle on one of the jackets.

Lucy didn't bother to control the sneer that surfaced. Clearly, the display designer had a screw loose. Still, she mused as she stared at a black denim jacket, she did have a pair of jeans that jacket would match.

****

"Did you really have to nick the jacket," San asked, running a finger down Lucy's sleeve.

"I did. It was my solemn duty to rescue it from that abomination," Lucy replied. "And look! It matches my new boots as well." She held up her foot towards San and waggled it.

"Just how much crime do you commit on a daily basis?" San glanced at Court who shrugged.

"It was a crime of passion. You don't go to jail for those," Lucy replied.

"People go to jail for that every day," San protested.

"I don't think someone who's still famous for making a human pretzel can compare morals with me," Lucy argued. She lowered her foot and admired her new boots again.

"I think those are limited editions," Dawnie said, unwrapping another of those candy bars.

Lucy peeped at her from the corner of her eye. She was mostly sure that there had been a small mound of candy wrappers on the floor a moment ago. She stifled a sigh. Dawnie and Don were living much faster than they should be. It was like the only time they were living 'normal' time was when they were asleep.

"Enough about my boots, even though they are excellent. What do we know about the lab?" Lucy smoothed down her jacket sleeves.

"It's a 'retired' army base. Standard security and then there's some unstandard as well." Court pointed at the television set against the far wall of their little hideout. It obediently switched on and showed a series of images. "These are the main actors of this little drama. This guy," and the images stopped on an older man who looked troubled as he exited work. "This guy might be a way in. Most of his emails lately are arguing about giving Ella into her biomom's custody."

"And this is going to help us how?" Dawnie asked, balling up her wrappers.

Lucy blinked at her. How did one wrapper turn into four? It was clearly four because they were all different colors. Lucy wondered just how that worked. Didn't mixing all those flavors upset her stomach at all?

Court looked over, registered the wrapper ball, shrugged and continued with his lecture. San sighed and snagged one of the bars sitting on the side table, reading the nutritional information with a slight frown. Lucy wanted to frown herself. The bars were sold somewhere? Because why else would they have that little white box.

"We plant a bug on him, score some codes, and it'll be a bit easier when we waltz in and get Ella." Court rotated his shoulders. "Watching Dawnie eat is starting to get to me. Anyone up for something?"

"Define 'something,'" Lucy asked, picking up her own IWA bar. She flinched at numbers. "This thing has a thousand calories. A thousand!"

"Not enough," Don said, nimbly filching the bar from her fingers. "According to the last figures, I'm burning roughly five hundred an hour doing nothing."

"That's insane," Lucy exploded. "Why aren't they doing something about this?"

"Well, Cisco is running around the multiverse talking to various speedsters since our dad is still missing." Dawnie paused and took another bite of her bar. "Who knows where that man is."

"Maybe he's in a lab all by himself," Don shrugged. He nodded towards the television which was now showing a news clip. "So, when do we tag our little sheep?"

"After dinner," Lucy said firmly. She paused as her phone rang. Instead of the usual musical tones, it was a long, slightly unpleasant laugh. "Give me a minute."

She stood up and walked into the depths of the unlit warehouse.

"And where might you be?" Her father's voice was pleasant, cheerful even. Lucy wondered just how many minions died to make him so happy.

"Having a sleepover with friends. I'll be back tomorrow," Lucy lied. She knew her father would forget all about this phone call before he even went to bed. He'd probably forget quicker if he was involved in a heist.

"Truly? A pity. I found the most magnificent necklace to match that tiara." Her father's voice gained a wheedling edge that set Lucy's nerves a-tingling.

"Really? I love necklaces," she enthused, injecting as much greedy cheer into her voice as she possibly could.

"I'll leave it on your bed so it's the first thing you see," he said. In the background, Lucy could hear her mother screaming about not getting a necklace. "I got you the rest of the store. Why are you still harping about a necklace?"

Lucy swallowed as her father hung up. She turned, nearly running back.

"We'll do it in a couple days instead. I have to go home for a little bit," she said, snagging her bag off the couch. She paused for a moment and then shrugged off her jacket, stuffing it into Court's arms.

"Watch it for me. I'll be back soon."

"I can take you ho—"

"No! No, I'll catch a cab or a limo or something," Lucy disdained. She shot San a look that had him sighing again. Just what did he have to sigh about?

"I'll take you," Don volunteered. He swallowed the last bite of his current bar. "It'll be quicker than anything else.

Lucy nodded, letting him sweep her up in a princess carry.

"Hold on," Don muttered in her ear.

Lucy tightened her grasp around his neck. San's expression bothered her. Just what was he hiding from them? Lucy kept that thought in the forefront of her mind as she shot back to Gotham.