Maisie

Maisie nervously peered around. Things had so not gone the way she thought they would go when she gathered up her cash and hopped that bus out of town. Sure, she could have followed what her parents said and just gone to community college or trade school, but she was meant for more! So much more!

Those thoughts hadn't survived her first week in Gotham. She was only happy she hadn't been swept up by one of those hard-eyed guys like she'd seen a couple other runaways had. They were happy to sweet-talk and even buy a hot meal but then boom! Swept up into something you couldn't escape from. She'd been warned off by a rather worn-looking woman who'd said that nothing was free, especially if you were young and pretty.

She'd heard those words before from her own gran. Her gran had been a tough old bird who'd died when she was just a kid. She'd lived hard and settled down just long enough to raise her own son who tried to keep his kids from seeing her that much. Maisie hadn't really understood then.

She did now. Her gran had been an 'unsuitable' person to know. Maisie leaned her head against the wall, firmly deciding to not care if it was dirty. Her father would be pitching a fit if he knew. They were supposed to be perfectly groomed at all times. Even her mother still sported that weird 'heels to do housework' mentality.

At least she'd listen when her gran spoke. Her gran for all her 'wild' ways wasn't really that wild. She'd just been a single mother who wasn't willing to take any of that misogynistic guff that was so prevalent in their small town. Maisie privately thought she'd been a great role model. She just wasn't so sure how her father had turned out the way he had.

She sensed movement and turned her head. Maisie had found that she'd developed a lot of little tics since that bus ride. A girl was approaching her, about her age. Her black hair was cut messily into a little shag and when the light from the streetlights hit it just so, it shone just a little bit blue. Maisie's eyes widened. She'd only heard about hair like that.

The girl was dressed like everyone else, but somehow her clothes seemed like they cost so much more than the five dollars Maisie had paid at the thrift shop. She moved like a cat, just sure of every single step.

What she reminded her of was Amazons. Her father said that they didn't know their place but Maisie thought that perhaps they knew their place very well and part of that was putting guys like her father in their place. She'd glimpsed Amazons on television once before her father had instituted the restrictions and increased their church going. This girl reminded her of the leader; all she was missing was the blue eyes. As she came closer, Maisie could tell that they were green instead.

As she stopped and looked at Maisie with those green, green eyes of hers, Maisie blurted out the first thing that came to her mind.

"Are you a Goddess?"

*****

Aarti blinked. Maisie at their age was still the same as she'd been when they'd known her. Part of her mind blanked in a multi-second silent scream of horror at the thought that perhaps they'd tinkered with Maisie's brain to keep her this way. Then she dismissed the thought.

"Nope, but I am someone who likes to feed people," she returned with a smile.

"You look like one," Maisie sighed, closing her eyes.

"Aren't you going to take me up on my offer?" Aarti asked.

"Nothing in life is free. That's what my gran always said," Maisie replied. One eye opened just a bit, the streetlights glistening off the blue iris.

"Fine. It's not free." Aarti looked around. There were people lurking she didn't like the looks of. Just how had Maisie wound up as a collaborator?

"What's the real price?" Maisie straightened up.

"I want you to help me with something. It's not dangerous." Aarti felt just the slightest twinge at the lie.

"And why me? There's a ton of girls on this street who'd do a lot for just a few dollars," Maisie retorted.

"But how many haven't given in to those guys?" Aarti said with a jerk of her head. She didn't miss the start as Maisie noticed the men who were a little bit closer to them.

"The diner on the corner has pancakes." Maisie drifted past Aarti, heading in the opposite direction. "The owner there doesn't let them in anymore. He's tough enough to keep it that way."

From Court's information, the diner on the corner was a money laundering spot for Don Marcone. Of course some penny-ante thugs weren't going to bust in there. Aarti followed after Maisie, wondering how anyone got anything done in Gotham.

*****

"Why aren't you going to the cops? Even in Gotham, I think they'd be interested in this," Maisie asked, sopping up the last of her eggs with her toast.

"It's best to be quiet about it," Aarti replied. She sipped her coffee. She wasn't sure if it still qualified with all the sugar and milk she'd poured into it, but the diner didn't offer anything fancy. "The authorities would lead to questions and those are things we can't afford."

Maisie's head bobbed. Obviously her time in Gotham had cured her of some of her small town habits. She glanced around nervously. It seemed to be a tic of hers, to constantly check her surroundings.

"And what about the supes? Wouldn't they be interested in stopping some weird alien invasion?" Maisie sat back a little, frowning at Aarti.

"Would they even believe that aliens could sneak in?" Aarti took another sip. At least the milk and sugar made it palatable, but she could still taste the burnt coffee.

"True," Maisie mused. Then she nodded decisively. "Fine! I'll do it, but you gotta pay me. At least a hundred."

"Then it's a deal," Aarti agreed. She extended one hand. "Shake?"

Aarti mused that perhaps she really was going to go to Daedalus when she eventually died like her aunts always told her.