Kessie's Short Stories

Ultimatum

Originally written 9/29/22

Roman was doing all in his power not to curse out loud. Likewise, strapped to a chair with steel supports at the wrist and ankles, Candyne looked up at him with her dark green eyes and a less than bemused quirk of her eyebrow. Neither said a word about the situation. Maybe someday they'll laugh about it.

But it definitely wasn't going to happen today.

"So," Candyne entertained, moving her wrists a bit, "Are you going to let me go soon, or...?"

"No!" Roman immediately shouted. "No, you're going to stay there awhile. I have-"

'A plan' was what he intended to say, however that was far from the truth. Knowing this made him fail in completing his sentence. Candyne's own relative calm during this also made everything a bit uneasy to process. Did working retail really suck that much?

"You're being really calm about this." Roman blurted out.

With what was about as expected now, Candyne just shrugged.

"They had me working a double shift," she explained, "You might as well have saved me. Except for the fact that they're not going to pay me for the time I'm not there. You'd think that in a world with superheroes and the like, they'd find a way to compensate you when a looney in tights kidnaps you as a bargaining chip."

"You're not bait." Roman slightly corrected her. "I, um, I made a small mistake. But you... you're not in any kind of danger. I promise."

"So," Candyne wondered, her expression hardening, "If I'm not in danger, then why am I here? I have a rent to pay that's just as ludicrous as working double. The oh-so-scary Counterfeit Call isn't really known for generously giving back others."

"My real name is Roman Romaro."

Candyne blinked. "Really?"

Roman nodded.

"The same Roman Romaro that comes by the bakery at Salshop just to complain about the price of sliced bread, then buys an 8 ounce bag of pretzel balls? Dude, are you always some sort of public nuisance? We've got a blackboard bingo going in the breakroom for your mid-rant buzzwords."

"I get 12 inch herb tortillas too! There are other ways to make a sandwich that don't support corporations without unions, you know." A small pause later, and he added, "I'm not that bad, am I?"

"Considering I literally had some soccer mom say that the bagels were molding over when it was just a bit of sesame seed, I say you're one of the more tolerable complainers."

Roman sat a bit taller as he declared, "Good." But hearing Candyne snicker soon after made him realize that maybe this wasn't something to be proud about.

"Okay, okay," Candyne mused, now apparently in a pretty good mood, "So if you didn't kidnap me on purpose, then, what? You wanted to ask me on a date but were too shy?"

Roman shrank. A blush appeared on his face so bright that it could nearly be seen from under his mask. The truth sunk into Candyne like a stone of disbelief.

"Oh my god." she marveled. "Oh. My. God. Dude."

"I know, I know." Roman agreed with a whine.

"That is straight up Looney Tunes levels of idiocy."

Roman flinched. "I know. It's not my fault that adrenaline's an ass. I didn't even want to kidnap you. I know you've been working hard recently because, through all my complaining, you retail workers aren't much quieter."

Now it was Candyne's turn to sit a bit straighter- to the best of her ability.

"No we don't." she huffed in defense.

"Oh yeah?" Roman challenged. "Your coworker Martha is planning on taking some expired cookies for her son's bake sale this Thursday. Mateo over in the toy section brags that he takes holidays off when it's store policy not to. And Mitchell is trying to ask Dana out even though she has a very strict 'don't date the douches you work with' rule."

Candyne was silent for a moment. She knew there was a reason she didn't like Mitchell very much, and that last tidbit all but confirmed it for her. Regardless, she didn't let this sway her from the matter at hand.

"That doesn't prove that we're loud," she spat, "It just proves you're a stalker."

It hit a lot harder than what she anticipated. Roman completely deflated now. He couldn't believe that this was the first impression he was giving her after a solid year of debating talking to her at all. Everything was just crashing down like a fireball from the sky. There was a reason why he's gone this long without so much bothering to consider dating. Being a villain always came back to bite you in some way or another. This hurt more than any superhero punch.

And maybe Candyne understood this in her own way. In a world dominated by whatever crisis that occurred next because of the presence of heroes and villains suped up on God-knows-what, she didn't quite understand what made the difference between the two. Usually it was the presence of trust funds, other times it was some freak accident that could have killed anyone else. She was too poor and too boring to have either of those. But more than once she's wondered even further about how hard it was to keep secret identities (if said hero and villain wished to keep one). While this was certainly a day she'd scarcely forget, how much of it was because this idiot panicked in such a way that his two different worlds collided?

"Okay," she said with a huff, "Are we open to appeals? Because I have one."

"Sure." Roman agreed, almost without thinking.

"How about you let me go, and we'll go on a date before some muscle mass of steel busts through your door. Or, you can continue to keep me here, said muscle mass can pummel the life out of you, and I'll make sure you're blacklisted from every store in Salshop's franchise. Do we have a deal?"

Everything in Roman's body froze. She really wanted to go forward with a date after all of this? At the same time, he deserved a good pummeling. Candyne wasn't getting paid for her leave. And maybe he did listen in a bit too close for whatever her coworkers blabbed about. There was something to gain and lose with either option. A small sliver of him realized he was taking way too long to make a choice.

When Roman looked back at Candyne, his answer was certain.