"Not bad at all," Ron Black muttered as the somewhat rumpled looking editor handed Carol Danvers a copy of the Herald, her story on the attacking Trolls on the front page. "Thank you," Carol smiled, the blonde's eyes skimming over the report though she knew it by heart. A summary of the Trolls rampage, the heroes sudden appearance and finally the defeat of all the creatures. The business suited woman handed the preview copy back as she added, "I was just lucky to get so close." "Don't get cocky," Ron said dryly as he headed to his office, "just because you've gotten front page a few times." Carol nodded, "Right." "Congratulations," Heather said, the brown haired accountant smiling a bit as she swung by Carol's desk, her jumpsuit neat and form fitting. She leaned her hip against the desk and dropped her voice, "You up to a victory party with the girls?" "Victory?"Carol looked curious. Heather gave her a grin as she reminded the other woman, "You've beaten the two week curse of crime reporters." Carol smiled back as she teased, "Did I forget to mention I was quitting today?" "Don't even joke," Heather laughed. She pushed herself to her feet as she asked cheerfully, "So, how about it?" "Why not," Carol said, "meeting at the Oasis again?" "Unless we find somewhere more interesting," Heather said, "we'll call you on your cellphone if needed." "Got it," Carol waved as Heather left the busy newsroom. Carol went to work on a rash of high tech robberies, consulting her own notes and the police briefing. The police weren't having much luck catching the battle-armor clad crooks, and a few officers had privately told her they were thinking of appealing for superhuman aide. "Hey, Danvers," the rough voiced man said as a shadow stretched over her desk, "Yes," Carol looked up, recognizing the older reporter. Chad Smith was a fixture here, a forty year old reporter who had worked his was up from a cub reporter to a investigative journalist. Slouching there in his stained suit he looked harmless, but Carol watched him warily. Chad dropped his voice, "You know about Heather, right?" Carol had a bad feeling she knew what he was talking about, but played innocent. "No, what?" she asked brightly. "She's a," Chard hissed, "lesbian. Wouldn't want a pretty girl like you getting involved with that type." "I never realized," Carol faked being surprised. "Yeah, those deviant types hide out everywhere," Chad added in a whisper, "you really have to watch yourself." Finally Carol couldn't control herself and burst into laughter. "What?" Chad reeled back in surprise. "What decade are you from?" Carol sniggered. "The evil predatory lesbian is going to get me?" she laughed. "Hump," Chad pulled back, straightening up his suit before he stalked away, his back stiff with irritation. "Way to go," Monica Strewart purred, the older redhead grinning at Carol from her desk nearby. "Sorry," she added, "should have warned you." "Bit reactionary?" Carol looked amused. "Just a bit," Monica agreed. She checked her watch then asked cheerfully, "You want to go sneak out early?" "We going to get into trouble?" Carol asked as she saved her files. "We've both got our stories on file for tomorrow's edition," Monica countered, "Ron should be happy, I think." She laughed, "If he;'s short he can always write another one of his long winded editorials." Carol chuckled, knowing that was a regular tactic of smaller papers. She got up and grabbed her coat, "All right, let's go." Like two teenagers playing hooky Monica and Carol hurried out of the newsroom, Monica giving the annoyed looking Chad a cheerful little wave. Heading down to the parking lot beneath the building Monica said, "You want to ride with me this time?" "Oh what the hell," Carol shrugged, "I can always get a ride back." "I'm sure that Heather'd be willing to give you a ride," Monica teased, unlocking the doors of her older model Toyota. "You too?" Carol looked curious. Monica got behind the wheel, smiling impishly as she put the key in the ignition. "Well, I think she's a little curious about you," she revealed, both putting on their seat belts. The car started up with a rumble and they swung out into traffic, soon accelerating and weaving between cars in a breakneck speeds. If Carol wasn't mostly invulnerable she'd have been worried. As it was she was warily watching other cars, hoping there wouldn't be a accident. "I'm not sure I really swing that way," Carol said, a bit surprised at any uncertainty in her voice. She thought of Thunderstrike and felt herself blush just as little. "Oh ho," Monica smiled a bit, calmly evading a near crash, again. "Eeep," Carol gasped as they zipped into a very small space between two trucks. "It's not exactly what you think," she said. "I'm not judging," Monica said as she whipped around a corner, the whole car rocking a bit as it went up on one wheel. "Hell, I went out with Heather for a bit," she confided, nearly talking out a mail box in the process. "I wouldn't have thought..." Coral said, gulping as they raced at a garbage truck. At the last moment Monica wrenched the wheel aside, zipping them clear. "I consider myself bi," she revealed cheerfully, "though I have to admit those nights with Heather nearly turned me to the other side of the force, so to speak." Carol nearly choked at that. "Here we go," Monica proceeded to cut across several lanes of traffic, causing squealing tires and loud honking of horns. "We're here," she said cheerfully. Carol opened her eyes, only then becoming aware that she had clenched her eyes shut for the last while. The familiar Oasis bar was there, as she remembered, and outside their friends were parked. "Thank you for the ride," she puffed out a relieved breath. "No problem," Monica laughed as they headed inside. The bar was packed with men and woman and Carol cheerfully let the aggressive Monica lead the way to a back table. The usual suspects waved as they approached, the band of women smiling greetings as they each took their seats. "And the girl of the hour is here," Elisa drawled, eyes twinkling. "Be nice, Elisa," Bette firmly elbowed her in the ribs, the brash brown haired woman giving her a scolding look. Catty grinned, the lovely blonde helping the newcomers steal some chairs from a nearby table. "About time," she said, "I want to eat soon." "Don't these chairs belong to someone?" Carol asked as they pulled off the coats hanging on the chairs and tossed them on a empty table. "Maybe," Monica sat down, "but do you really thing they want to take on all of us?" "No way," Catty laughed. Lynn sniggered, the reddish-gold haired woman taking a drink. "You got that right," she nodded firmly in agreement. She looked at Carol, "Three front pagers in as many weeks, I think that's a record." "Thank you," Carol smiled, "it was nothing." There was soft laughter around the table at that comment. Part of why Carol had made the front page was because of how close she had gotten to the action, and the sort of risks she had taken to do it. As people who worked in the newspaper business they understood the stakes involved, and how much more than nothing it was. Seeing Carol's discomfort on the focus on her Heather spoke up to brightly ask, "Well, who's ready to order some food?" "I'm starved," Catty admitted with a chuckle. "Thanks," Carol said to Heather softly, and Heather just flashed a bright smile.
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