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Money Man, Monica thought, what kind of a stupid name was that? She sat back, eyeing the strange man as he stood before her.
"Monica Bico," the finely dressed man read from her file, "former wife of Manny Biko, wanted in six nations for aiding and abetting-"
"Good for you," she cut in, rolling her eyes, "you can read." He frowned at the interruption, setting his papers on the table as he placed a bag before her. The woman looked at the wrapping, raising her eyebrow at the man.
"Tell me something, my dear, do you like it here?" He gestured at the white walls around him, at the cuffs around her wrists, "are you happy?"
"Happy?" she asked him, her lips curling back at the word. "I was happy, once. And then I found my husband in bed with that little freak of a hussy, and he picked her over me. So no," she continued, glaring at him, "I'm not happy." The dark haired man sighed, taking his seat as he leaned forward to speak again.
"I read about your husband as well, you are aware that he..." the Money Man trailed off, looking at her. She shifted in her seat, her hands clenching and unclenching at his unwavering look.
"Yeah, I know he'd dead. Couldn't outrun the police forever," she said, "it was bound to happen sooner or later."
"Please, my dear," Money Man said, shaking his head, "don't bother lying, you're sad that he's dead." Monica sat straight at that, shaking her head as she glared at the thin man.
"I'm sad?" she asked, scoffing, "I told you, that voodoo rat left me for our third wheel! All because she could go through things, and was strong, and- and... I, I couldn't," she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I couldn't do what she could, and they, they were both leaving me behind! Because I wasn't special," she said, looking up at Money Man, "because I was just me."
"And that's why I'm here today," the thin man said, reaching out to pull the bag back towards himself. "I've been studying you for some time, Monica Biko, and I've decided to pick you because you are just you." Monica shook her head at him, baffled.
"What do you mean?"
"I'm putting together the most marvelous team," he started, "a team of true heroes. At first," he said, "I wanted them to be the best of the best, the most powerful men and women amongst us. Superheroes, all of them, people we could truly look up to." Money Man paused, giving her a small smile as he readjusted his monocle. "And then I realized that I was wrong, that picking them would set them above humanity. How can a child, a maid, or a mailman relate to someone who can fly, or shoot lasers from their hands? They'd be thankful," he continued, "but they'd always know that they could never really be like them. And I realized that I don't want that- I want people who can inspire the common man to better themselves!" He stood from his seat, clenching his hands as he looked at her with fierce passion. "I want people who they can look up to and think, yes, I can be like them!" Monica waited a moment as the man sat back down, then slowly clapped as well as she could.
"That was real inspiring, money bags," she said, "I swear, but what does that have to do with me? I'm a thief and a killer," she continued, gesturing down at her prison uniform. "I don't think any parents would want their little girls looking up to me."
"That's exactly why I want you," he said with sincerity. "I believe that anyone can be a hero, Ms. Biko," he insisted, opening the package as he stood. "Even you." Her eyes went wide as the clothing unfurled, and she stared at the old uniform in disbelief. The light red cape, the gray unitard, he'd even found the damn boots and gloves!
"How?" she whispered, looking back up at him.
"Wear this again, Ms. Biko, and do good this time," he said. "I'm offering you a chance at a new start in life, a chance to show people that your past doesn't define you, that you can rise above that and be a hero!" Monica slowly reached out, and he obligingly handed the clothing to her, resuming his seat as she stared at the uniform. She felt the fabric, biting her lip as she thought back to that fateful day that she'd first tried it on. It had been an attempt at making herself seem more special, a desperate bid to pull her husband's eyes back to her, but she'd looked at herself in the mirror back then and... daydreamed, for just a second. Pictured herself standing tall on some rooftop, her cape bellowing out behind her as a crowd cheered from below. She'd... Monica hesitantly put the uniform back on the table, reluctantly pushing it away as she looked back up at Money Man.
"Will you... will you give me some time to think about it?" she asked him, and he smiled warmly at her as he took her old clothing back.
"Of course, Ms. Biko, take all the time you need."