Retail Therapy

Carol idly walked down the aisle. She'd had to go to three different supermarkets before finally finding this one. She hadn't thought that Dawnie had cleaned out so many.

Though when she thought about it, they had been building a lot of candy things. She glanced into the basket on her arm. In it, a thick cookbook declared that she, too, could learn to make candy. It hadn't occurred to her that she could make her own candy until Leilani had found that special on gingerbread castles and one of the makers had boasted about making her own recipe for gingerbread paper.

The whole gingerbread paper thing had blown everyone's mind, even distracting Lucy. That had necessitated a giant shopping spree for baking and even more candy. The thought of the paper had been what had Carol stopping at a display to ogle the cookbooks. Obviously, if you could do it with gingerbread, then perhaps she could do the same thing with candy?

She debated whether or not to buy two of the cookbooks. Paper would be safer than an ebook and untraceable. That way she could consult Dawnie or Leilani while she read one. The one thing Dawnie had inherited from her father was his love of science. Carol wasn't stupid enough to comment on it, though.

Carol paused in front of the hard candies. The brands were all mind boggling, but she was more interested in their colors. That would be the true gain from learning how to make her own﹣she'd be able to control what the color was. Right now, they were mainly using gourmet peppermint sticks for white, but from her brief perusal of the book, they'd be able to make their own without the annoying smell clinging to their clothes.

She paused, glancing at the end of the aisle. A woman was browsing there, frowning at the variety of teas.

"Surely, there is no need for such strange beverages," she was muttering under her breath.

It was the accent that did it. She could hear it popping up in Aarti's conversation every so often, some sort of weird archaic jumble her ear wanted to call English but it just wasn't. Carol turned and sauntered down the aisle towards the cashiers.

She nonchalantly scanned the area as she detoured down the frozen foods aisle. The cashiers had changed since she'd come in. They weren't the lackadaisical teenagers and bored older adults who'd been there when she came in. Instead, they looked fiercer in a muted way, like hunters stalking a covey of ducks.

Carol snagged a hot-cold bag off an impulse display. She shoved the cookbook into it and continued towards the end of the aisle. Then she paused at the man standing there in that intimidating costume. She had to admit that Dawnie was right; it was a bit unsettling.

"Carol? Serial number 524?" He asked. "Your file lists you as an espionage resource?"

Carol stared at him for a moment. Now Lucy's unsettled murmuring was becoming clear to her. Obviously, there was still ranking information in those files, no matter how much they'd tried to clear them out. She made a mental note to tell Lucy about that when she next saw her.

Carol let a slow smile light her features. She knew it was her best weapon. It made her look young, defenseless and utterly harmless. Carol took a measuring step backwards and then darted to the side, ducking under his arm and heading for the backroom.

The backroom was typical: a short hallway with restrooms and the rest a hodgepodge of boxes and shipping dollies. A split second and she darted into the men's restroom, bolting the door.

Her lip curled at the smell. A quick glance showed it was a simple restroom, just a toilet, sink and paper towel dispenser.

Carol let out a single chuckle of sound. This was perfect.

*****

"She's stuck in there." Bruce glanced at Diana who arched an eyebrow in response.

"Is she really?" Diana asked. "She was listed as an espionage resource, and none of those children are normal."

"Some of them are very normal," Bruce responded.

"Only because their genetics didn't trigger." Diana knocked on the door. "We only want to talk. We mean you no harm."

Bruce waited patiently at her side, saying nothing. Diana gave him a pointed look before banging a bit harder on the door.

"Enough of this," she finally said, taking a step back. She kicked the door open and stared.

There was a nice, neat hole in the floor, the edges still glowing cherry red and orange.

"Now we see just what kind of espionage she's meant for." Bruce sighed as he turned away. "She's in the sewers."

*****

Carol cautiously scanned the street. She couldn't see much from the drain, but the upside was that no one could see her hiding as well. She frowned at the street, not trusting what she saw.

With a soft grunt, she fell back to the floor of the drain. She'd traveled a few blocks before deciding to surface. Carol hadn't been quite sure how dedicated they were going to be, so she'd been forced to… improvise. There were now a few new holes in the Gotham sewer system. She only felt sorry for the poor souls who'd have to patch it eventually.

When it came down to it, Carol really hated sewer walking.

She quickly walked to the next spot of sunlight denoting the next drain. What she really needed was a quiet suburban street, but those were few and far between in this area. Carol wasn't looking to travel more miles than she needed to. The smell would cling to her clothes, and then she'd wind up burning them and raiding Rena's wardrobe. Then she'd look like some stupid fashion plate until she could acquire better clothes.

Carol slowly climbed the rungs to street level and peeped out. The street was strangely deserted.

Great, she thought. Just great. Now she needed to go deeper and might even wind up having to swim a bit.

Carol clutched her books, still in the hot/cold bags. At least the whole trip wasn't a total waste, though she might have to ditch the books if she really wound up having to swim.