No Rest For A Delivery Guy I

After breaking off from his small flashback episode, Lorenzo motioned Jack to follow him as he took a seat in one of the pizzeria booths.

"How was it?" The older man asked him once he slid into the seat opposite his. "How did you find your first night? Did you encounter troubles?"

"It was fine, I guess." Jack shrugged before taking out the money from the orders and giving it to him – cash and pennies. "Mostly, it was just a lot of walking around, which was the most tiring part along with trying to reassure people that no, I'm not here to rob them or assault them, but to deliver their food."

Lorenzo nodded and took the offered cash before wordlessly beginning to count the money.

Once done, he took out some of the money for himself before sliding the rest across the table to him.

91$, rounded out. Jack was due 50$ of commission fee for the ten pizzas he delivered, plus another 41$ in tips.

"I thought you had a bike, a scooter or something to make the deliveries." Lorenzo mentioned, "It didn't occur to me when I watched you leave that you were on foot."

"It also didn't occur to me to ask you if you have a scooter." Usually, pizza delivery men either used scooters or a car to do their job.

"I don't have one available. Sold the one I used to drive and the backup scooter is out of service." Lorenzo grunted, "It needs a thorough repair, problem with that is that it costs more to repair it than to just sell the scrap and buy a secondhand scooter or even a new one."

Jack sighed, having feared this answer. It seemed like he would be on his own as far as delivery transport goes. By the next month, his calves were going to be well-defined.

He could maybe buy a bike himself or more likely, he would look into getting his hands on a pair of roller skates. Oh! There was also the option of 'requisitioning' a vehicle from a gang, whatever the type.

Thinking about getting a pair of roller skates never failed to rouse in him the deep-buried desire of one day possessing a pair of Air Trecks and soaring over in the sky by using them.

Ever since he watched the anime Air Gear and awakened to his powers, the idle desire never managed to leave his thoughts. In his homeworld, with the existence of Genius – supes with the ability to create incredible pieces of technology coming straight from sci-fi movies – the option of commissioning a Genius to build a pair of ATs was a real possibility as long as a person has the contacts and money.

Jack noticed that there were a lot of villains in Gotham, like Mr Freeze or Mad Hatter for example, who could fall under the 'Genius' category.

He could look further into the matter once he has time, and his situation, a little more secure. Finding someone who might be able to reproduce ATs and build him one pair was going to be on top of his 'hobbies list' of priorities, just behind getting laid.

It was a matter of fulfilling long-thought-out-of-reach childhood dreams.

"I can keep working on foot or even buy a pair of roller skates if it comes to it. Till I have something better, you might want to have the times updated and maybe have me swing back for further deliveries so the pizzas can be kept hot." The young rogue suggested after some thoughts.

"It's the employer's responsibility to take care of this part of the job." Lorenzo sighed, "Usually, I wouldn't bother, you might not even have lasted a week but you proved the contrary. You're the first one in a long fucking time who manages to complete all his deliveries. For this, I'm going to take a leap of faith and trust you." He directly stared at Jack's red lens, giving him an intense glare. "Give me one week and I'm going to get you that scooter in working condition. I trust that you know how to handle and drive one?"

"Yessir!!!" He cheered, pumping his fist even as he gave the older man a salute, making him look at him strangely. "I hope though that you brand that scooter to make it real identifiable. If nothing else, having people know I'm your man would go a long way in making sure it ain't stolen or jacked."

"It already is," He answered with, Jack dare say, amusement. It was quite queer coming from the man he was beginning to know as being gruff and curt. "And believe me, it won't stop people from trying to steal it if they think they can get away with it."

"Which they won't get away with if they even try," Jack seriously answered, all cheers abandoned. Lorenzo gave him a grunt of approval. "Also, for some particular reasons, I can't show you my driving license."

Lorenzo shot him a knowing glance at that. "Ah, I understand. Don't worry, again, as long as you do know how to drive, it's fine with me. Either way, I won't ask you to show me a license, and nobody will ask you to 'round these parts. Dressed as you are, which poor sod stuck on traffic duty will stop you and demand to see a license…? They aren't paid enough to give a shit about crazy mask cunts driving a scooter." He shrugged at him, "No offense."

"Some taken." Jack deadpanned.

It was good that Lorenzo interpreted what he insinuated the way he wanted. And to be fair to him, it was a good guess. As he said, dressed as he was, if he was ready to deliver pizzas in seedy neighbors deck out for war, then, coming to the conclusion that he greatly valued his anonymity and security, was a perfectly logical guess to make from the older man's perspective. So was inferring the reason why he wouldn't show him a driving license was because he wanted to protect said anonymity.

Although, even if Jack had one, he wouldn't have shown it to someone anyway. He never went out in his supe's persona with things which could be used to link him back to his civilian identity.

Chuckling, Jack said. "It's good for me then that they aren't paid enough to make it a problem for me."

"It's how things are. Now, back to the subject of getting updates between each delivery, I don't have any way of contacting you." Lorenzo reproached. "We need to rectify this."

"I have a burner phone but no number from which you can contact me."

Lorenzo muttered something under his breath – which suspiciously sounded like a curse – that he failed to catch up before abruptly standing up, "Wait here!" The older man ordered as he hobbled toward the back of the room – the kitchen.

Before long, he came back with a clunky black walkie-talkie which he handed to him as he sat back. "This ought to do the job. This little gem here has a range of 15 miles (24 km). It's water-proof and has a direct link to the local police department radio frequency so you may be aware if shit goin' down where you are or are going. Bonus point, it's fucking durable. The batteries can last 2 up to three days."

'Where did he even find something like this?' First, the G.P.S, now this…

He was starting to suspect that Lorenzo wasn't as simple as he appeared. At this point, this has to qualify as Genius-tech even if it was pretty low on the totem pole of it. If the older man was the one putting this equipment together, why bother with opening a pizzeria? He could do other things with his talent and make a living doing this.

No. Call it a gut feeling, but Jack was pretty sure that he was simply a customer.

"Thanks, I will take care of it too."

"Good. I expect you to do. It's worth its weight in gold." Lorenzo gave him a sharp nod. "Now, let's talk about the job specs."

Jack grinned.

He already knew it but still wanted to hear it. And coming from him, it was as good a confirmation as any that he was hired.

 /-/

The following conversation was pretty boring and standard as far as recruitment processes went. Lorenzo gave him another small selling pitch, allaying the advantages of working for him – as meager as they were, in his own words – outside of the commission fees and the more than average generous tips.

A hot pizza at the end of each work shift.

A 10% family discount or couple discount.

And Street Rep. This one, hilariously enough, while being an intangible thing, in terms of currency and favors he could get from being known as 'The Delivery man' from Lorenzo's, was quite tangible, benefits-wise. The pull and reputation it afforded among the mobsters, the law-abiding citizens, the police, the heroes and even among some villains – wasn't insignificant.

If he was good enough at the job, becoming a local celebrity among a certain demographic of the population was a great possibility.

In the end, Lorenzo informed him of the work hours. Monday and Tuesday were days off when the pizzeria was closed, it being the beginning of the week, things tended to be less busy.

From 3:00 p.m. to 11:00 p.m. were the standard work hours. Later, when things would start rolling and the pizzeria's owner could get his hand on fresh blood, it would be possible to push his work hours to later hours and only do a half-shift if he desired.

But for now, his new employer asked him to be here again tomorrow afternoon, and early this time. In the meantime, he would look for a mechanic to repair his backup scooter during the week-end and the beginning of the week.

"I think I went through everything I wanted to say," Lorenzo told him at the threshold of the pizzeria, having come out to see him off. "Still, I don't even know what I'm supposed to call you!"

Jack rubbed his hands together in an attempt to ward off the chill. It was already late at night, around 10:00 p.m. from what he managed to glimpse.

"While in costume, I'm Rule. On the job, you can call me whatever you want. But I think people will start to call me 'The Delivery Guy' or something."

"Rule, huh? Ain't it is an ominous name..." Lorenzo mumbled.

He had simply shrugged in response and bade him good night before leaving.

Once done with their conversation, Lorenzo had made good on his promise of food at the end of each shift.

He presented him with an individual-size pizza, 8" with coke at his demand.

The pizza was simple, with double cheese, tomato sauce, onions and some meat. Nothing else was added to it and pretty basic as far as pizzas went. But Jack still ate it on site with gusto, so great was his hunger – thankfully for him, the mask filter part of his helmet was detachable. The taste and texture of melted cheese, the marriage of aromas melting in his mouth as the different spices and savors intertwined with each other, creating a cacophony of flavors.

It was simply exquisite. The residual warmth in his gullet and stomach could attest to it.

Before he knew it, he had devoured the entire pizza.

'No wonder everyone has been so excited at the idea of Lorenzo's getting back in business, it's not simply the rarity of the service, the pizza is good too.' He thought, on the way back to his place.