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Chapter 9 by fyreant fyreant

What's next?

The two Lynns are reunited and meet the ones dragged along, just in time to be told of a mission!

"Bout time you get here, slowpoke!" You give the duplicate of yourself a poke in the chest (and considering your chest, that's pretty much impossible without pushing into her/your boob). "The bad guys have already left! You better get after 'em!"

"That's quite enough, 'Lickety-Split Lynn'." for the first time, Mort uses your actual title. "There's no more need for the pretense. Ah... I see you brought Nightingale. And another of the new tryouts. Nightingale, I apologize for getting you caught up in this. This was... a mere unofficial drill, you might say. Getting aid in the case of a hypothetical mind control incident. I told her to improvise the most shocking, disturbing story she could think of. I trust she did not disappoint, since you came here so hastily." Mort says.

The other Lynn comes over and stands next to you, revealing the other two new arrivals. One of them is a beautiful red-haired woman in a domino mask wearing a purple jumpsuit that is rather conservative by superheroine standards, not showing any skin below her neck. This must be Nightingale. She purses her lips and looks at the two "yous", then to Mort (who has obviously just re-dressed herself), then down at the paper envelope full of cash that Mr. Franco left. She looks displeased.

La Petite Mort looks a little nervous now and there's a quaver in her voice. "Ah... and... I can see that you knew quite well that the veteran superheroine on duty was a particularly prudish and judgmental one. You must have told her I was being assaulted by some lowlives, right? That was, ah, thinking quickly on your feet, Lynn."

"Well, we shall have to be careful that it doesn't happen again, then." Nightingale says with more than a bit of disdain in her voice. "And what about this money? Let me guess, a prop?" she picks up the envelope and swats Mort lightly on the forehead with it.

"Ahem." Mort stands up a bit straighter and gives her hardest glare back. "I'm sorry, Nightingale, but that information is above your rank. If you EVER happen to climb above B-rank, ask me some other time, and I'll gladly enlighten you. If I can still remember, however many years in the future that would happen to be."

While the two established superheroines are being catty, the other one to arrive sidles over near you and starts looking you up and down. You're pretty sure that she is one of the ones that you'd had in mind when you were getting self-conscious about looking good enough to catch attention.

What's next?

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