Villain's Coffee Shop

If Only You Knew What I Was Capable Of...

   A week of pain passed before Villain could physically function again -- it had hurt too much to walk for long, so he'd closed his shop while he healed to rest and recover. Today was the first day of re-opening.
   He'd given a lot of thought to Hero's offer, spending several hours staring mindlessly at the piece of paper with her number on it. But he hadn't worked up the courage to call. Because what if it was a trap? He'd learned a long time ago that people couldn't be trusted. But... Hero had seemed so sincere with her offer.
   He wanted to believe her, but old habits die hard. Distrusting everyone around him was the key to survival in his line of work -- having no one around to potentially stab him in the back. But... maybe he could try to change.
   Villain was unusually anxious and stiff as he serviced customers who came crowding into his coffee shop the instant he re-opened -- apparently his signature coffees were dearly missed. But his mind wasn't on his work today; he couldn't stop thinking about Hero's olive branch to him.
   "Hey, stranger. Feeling better?"
   Villain jolted back to reality at a terrifyingly familiar voice, and he realized that Hero was the next customer in line. His mind blanked.
   "Uh... dark roast with a bit of cream and milk?" He sputtered.
   "So you were taking notes last time," Hero noted in surprise.
   Villain nodded stiffly, turning to make her order. Hero leaned in close when her drink was ready and being handed to her.
   "Given any more thought to my offer?" She whispered.
   "I have," Villain replied, "but I can't focus on that right now -- I'll talk to you after closing hour?"
   Hero nodded and gave him a crooked smile. "Looking forward to it."
   Villain couldn't help an uneasy shiver as he watched her walk away with coffee in hand. This was one awkward conversation he was not looking forward to.
   "Mrrow?" Villain jumped in surprise to find Mocha rubbing his leg. He always kept his three-legged cat in the back to avoid unsettling customers.
   "How did you get out of your room, mr mischief?" He chuckled, and bent down to scoop him up.
   Mocha stared up at him with innocent eyes full of crafty intelligence, purring loudly. Villain had always felt a special connection to his pet, and it was like Mocha could sense when something was wrong, and had broken out of confinement to check on his friend.
   "I'm fine, Mocha," Villain reassured, stroking his scruffy fur fondly. "Just a little stressed is all. You have to stay put, all right?" He set Mocha down in the room he always kept him in, full of toys and scratching posts and other forms of enrichment.
   "I give you all the luxuries a cat could want, and still you want to escape," Villain laughed warmly as he shut and locked the door.
   He felt slightly more chipper as he returned to the front of the store to resume taking orders. Purr therapy did wonders for the mood.
   The work day seemed to stretch on forever, until the flow of customers began to thin and fade, the tables growing emptier as closing time neared.
   Once the last customer had finally left, Villain walked to the front of his shop and switched the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’, before heading to the back and letting Mocha out – his cat was allowed to roam free after-hours.
   He wasn't looking forward to speaking with the only guest that remained, who had lingered through the entire day. But it was an unfortunate necessity. He eventually trudged over to the table Hero was seated at and slid into the chair across from hers.
   “All right. Let's talk,” he sighed un-enthusiastically. Getting straight to the point and skipping all pleasantries.
   “Indeed.” Hero smiled far-too-sweetly at him, which made his mood even more sour. Mocha seemed to sense his agitation, as he immediately approached and hopped onto the table with a meow, tail held high.
   Villain steepled his fingers with a stern look aimed at Hero, ignoring the cat booping his arm with a furry head seeking attention. “So, firstly. What do I get if I join your side? I don't like to waste my time on unproductive things.”
   Hero rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward, all business-like. “The Agency for heroes pays well – well enough you wouldn't have to worry about retirement funds, and you wouldn't have to rob places and do crime to stay off the streets or keep running this shop. The Agency would provide for all your necessary financial needs.
   “Oh?” Villain arched an eyebrow, mulling it over. It was a good deal, a suspiciously good one, but he wasn't so easy to sway. “And what are the work hours? What kind of criminals are you fighting?”
   “Mostly villains less powerful than you,” Hero replied, “shouldn't be too hard for you to start taking them down once you're on a hero team. You could be a valuable ally to us.”
   “I'm truly flattered,” Villain said dryly, “but what makes you think I'm so powerful? You don't even know what my superpower is.”
   Hero blinked in surprise, and Villain couldn't help the self-satisfied smirk that inched across his face. He was always five steps ahead.
   “What makes you think I don't already know?” Hero argued defensively.
   Pfff, trying to act like she knew everything about him… it was amusing, really.
   Villain leaned forward on the table, gaze suddenly dark and intense as he stared long and hard at her. “...Because if you knew, you wouldn't be here right now. You would be smart and /run/. The fact that you showed up here unarmed with no backup speaks volumes about your sheer ignorance to what I'm capable of.”
   He didn't miss how Hero's eyes widened a hair with newfound caution. Good. Caution meant fear-based respect, and Villain leaned back again, satisfied that his point was made.
   Mocha climbed into his lap, and he looked like the baddest most vicious villain he was, menacingly stroking his three-legged cat.
   Hero cleared her throat, red with embarrassment to be caught so off-guard. “Soooo, uh, are you going to tell me what your powers are then, or leave me wondering here?” She asked pointedly, prying for information. “It would help me know what you're bringing to the team.”
   “Mmm, no,” Villain replied casually. “That's a secret. I don't like giving away my advantages so openly; you could use it against me in the future. Besides, who could tell if I even have powers in the first place…?”
   Hero scowled. “You are one of the only villains Superhero hasn't managed to catch. There is no way you've escaped him so many times without powers of some sort. And you've somehow also won the scarce encounters with me even.”
   Villain's expression darkened at the mention of Superhero, his mind flashing back to the alley he'd had to drag himself into, bleeding out and dying if Hero hadn't saved him. “I didn't say I don't have powers,” he pointed out in a clipped voice. “I merely stated that they are subtle – a hint for you, a tiny crumb of a puzzle piece.” He smiled coldly, showing teeth. He enjoyed this little game… he enjoyed it very much.
   Mine aren't as flashy as most powered people, but they are thrice as dangerous and lethal. I am a whisper in the wind, a ghost amidst shadows, a phantom who disappears at will. I am silent and swift and no one ever sees me coming.” His eyes narrowed with sudden keen interest, voice dripping low and cold. “Who. Am. I? Guess correctly, and I'll let you in on an even bigger secret… one that no one but me knows. Guess away, little hero. What kind of deadly am I?” He chuckled to himself – he could practically see the gears turning in Hero's mind, working to solve the riddle.
   But Villain knew she'd never get the answer right, not until Villain laid it out on a silver platter and made it so obvious she couldn't guess wrong. His power was rare and unique, far different from most others. Uncommon even amidst other villains.