Meet and Greet

A few hours later, Doctor Benjamin Maddox Beaux is getting out of a rental car outside a private airstrip as a charter jet touches down. The jet taxis as the doctor walks to a hangar. By the time the hero gets there, the plane is parked and the crew has a boarding ladder at the airplane door, helping a woman in a cow costume descend the stairs… and she obviously needs it, swaying as she walks.

The doctor chuckles as he meets her at the bottom of the stairs, “Enjoyed some bubbly on the flight, Cowgirl?”

“Psha,” the drunk woman in a bulletproof costume waves her hand, “don't touch the stuff. Nah, they had an eighty-sheven year old bottle of whisky… four shcore and sheven years ago… and once it was open, such a shame to let any of it go to waste… ‘sides,” she tries to look at the doctor, “the two of you are gonna make me a tea…. tea… somethin’… until this is all sshettled,” the woman can barely speak, “sho I may'sh well have my fun whiles I can…”

The doctor glances up as some movement at the door catches his eye… a flight attendant holding an empty bottle, looking back and forth between it and the woman. The doctor makes out her mouthing, “Two liters of a hundred forty proof… how is she still…”

Chuckling, the doctor disagrees, “It's just a different kind of drunk; are you ready?”

“Yesh Doctor Bimbo…” Cowgirl slurs… and then after the pink flash, she has perfect pronunciation… but a decidedly different accent, “Oh, Em Gee, I'm like, never going to get totally used to that, am I?”

“Still working on that myself,” the doctor agrees, “I brought your rental car…” he hands over a proximity key, “so you can drive.”

As they walk to the vehicle, Cowgirl frowns, “So like, why don't you loosen up and totally enjoy your body? Oh, Em, Gee getting off while like, on your power feels totally grand….”

Benjamin Beaux shakes his head, “Folks who like to drink can have a glass or two of wine with dinner, no problem, and can occasionally indulge more than that without serious repercussions if they take suitable precautions. Folks who LOVE to drink need to stay as far away from it as they can.”

“Wait, so like…” Cowgirl begins.

The doctor doesn't let her finish, “I can never get away from my own power. It is always right there, tempting me to take a little more… boost up… have fun… share with those around me… cut loose… but everything I use must first be ripped from some living or living-adjacent thing. When I lose control, people die. So…” they reach the car, and the doctor opens the door, holding it for his guest, “...I don't let loose the reins of my control. Ever. I don't mind that you enjoy a taste of my power: You can handle it, it barely affects you at all. I'm not in the same boat.”

“So… no girls’ night out this time, either…” Cowgirl frowns, focusing on her expected Texan accent as she gets into the driver's seat. “Well… I ‘spect you're a lot better equipped than you think, but I got no plans on forcin' the issue with a …guy… who's never made fun of me for the nature of my power.”

The doctor closes the door, pausing the conversation until he gets in on the passenger side, “I am familiar with what it's like to have powers that produce situations we may not always intend. You need to keep your chest accessible so you can defend yourself and others when needed… which involves even more exposure. You're not doing anything wrong, even if it does make some folks uncomfortable or give certain others the wrong idea.”

As Cowgirl starts the car and begins driving (she's been to the doctor's house before), she gives the doctor a sideways glance and a grin, “Sometimes it's the right idea…” then licks her lips, “but yeah… so what do we know so far about this hunter?”

“Not much…” the doctor gives Betsy Monroe the rundown on what happened and what was said as they drive.

“I see,” the platinum blonde cheerleader considers as they pull up to the doctor's house, “and do you know which ‘long time companion’ the idiot was referencing?”

The doctor purses his full lips, as Betsy parks, “First guess would be one of my nurses…” he pauses, “I'm an idiot. I should have checked in with them hours ago.”

“Yeah, well… any that aren't kidnapped will be asleep at this point,” Cowgirl gets out of the car at the same time the doctor does, “so nobody's answering either way. It can wait until morning… and I have a few ideas on where to look for leads. He bought the sheep, right?”

The doctor nods as they walk towards his house, and so the milky maiden (okay, not exactly a maiden per se…) continues, “So we talk to the cops and follow the money. The cops bought the sheep from some supplier - who was in league with our villain. I reckon that's a business with a presence, facilities, employees… that's all gotta come from somewhere, and will leave traces. Likewise, the villain bought out the city's normal supplier - there ain't no way there's NOT gonna be receipts, bank transactions, a delivery address or a pickup record, and whatnot, and somebody's gonna have seen ‘em, ya can't just drop live sheep off on the front porch and expect ‘em ta still be there when the rancher gets back home, yanno?”

“Fake ID, makeup, wigs, and gloves…” the doctor begins as he unlocks and opens the front door to his house.

“Oh, individually, sure,” the cow-themed hero shrugs as she steps on the doctor's line, “any given thang has some workaround. But that was NOT a small op - there have to have been a lot of people and even more details involved, so there's really good odds somebody slipped up on something, simply because nobody's perfect.”

Benjamin starts nodding along as they both sit down in his spacious living room… with modern decore: The doctor makes a point of hiring a contractor to update the house with a full remodel and refit every twenty years. “So we just need to follow up on every possible angle and we'll eventually catch him.”

Cowgirl laughs, making her mostly exposed chest do some wonderful things, “Nah. You can prolly just sit back an’ wait. See, whoever this slimeball is? He used the police to deliver his trap. You're a high profile, likeable good guy… and this muttonhead who thinks he's smart snatched you up right under the forces’ nose, using them as the delivery method. He gone an’ done wounded their pride with a big ole middle finger… and in broad daylight, no less. If those police got any dicks worth spit, they're already digging through everythan I said and then some. The odds of this here fellar gettin’ away Scott free are about the same as a New York senator's trophy wife getting gold at broco bustin’: It just ain't gonna happen, darlin.”

The doctor rubs his chin, “Fair… oh, are you hungry?”

“Yes…” the woman considers, “do you think anyone around these parts knows how to cook a steak right?”

Dr. Beaux thinks for a moment, “Not compared to the fresh stuff you can get back in Texas, no… pizza?” Cowgirl nods, and the doctor taps on his phone a bit while continuing the conversation, “the chief probably isn't equipped for the takedown, though… villains tend to be… well….”

“Packin’ private armies, yeah…” Betsy giggles, “...he's going to call in favors for the actual takedown, and probably want you there to see it. So…”

The doctor's phone rings, and Ms. Monroe winks.

Doctor Benjamin Maddox Beaux picks it up….