Synchronous

By Shahrezad1

Summary: “With dread rising to the surface like driftwood from a wreck at sea, Violet Parr, alias Invisigirl, turned to her first and most feared enemy with a smile that was calm if a little frozen. And then she began the dance. “Hello there, Sir! Did you find everything okay today?””

The second in a series of Synlet challenges for Synlet month. =^__^=

Disclaimer: Syndrome (alias Buddy Pine) and Violet Parr belong to Brad Bird, the creators at Pixar, and the Disney/Pixar company itself. No infringement is intended, this is created for sheer fun.

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Chapter 2: Green

“Green; Synonyms: emerald, jade, olive; immature or inexperienced.”

‘Green Friday’ dawned bright and early-too early-amid blinking, flashing lights and raucous sounds, the cacophony permeating the store from the ‘Front End’ to the ‘Back of House.’ Normally tidy shelves were askew, and the piles of carefully stacked sale items had been decimated by the frantic fervor created.

Violet shouldn’t have been surprised by it all, yet there she was, on her third season running, and somehow it still had the ability to faze her.

Villains she could handle. Natural disasters were a walk in the park. But put her face to face with an elderly grandmother that was two seconds too late to snatch up the latest and greatest edition of Tickle Me Elmo and she was left with the urge to crawl beneath her covers and cry for her mother.

Especially when she was already familiar with the ‘citizen’ via her other job.

Which led to the thought that had been circling her mind all day: what kind of hero was she if she had the urge to hit the very people she was supposed to protect?

Thankfully it was almost over, though. The building was down to its barest picked-over skeleton, like a felled elephant eaten then left to the carrion birds. But the sun had finally risen, and the red-outfitted associates were brightening in response to the new day, hopefully filled with respite and even some Thanksgiving leftovers as their shifts came to an end.

Violet only had an hour remaining. A single blessed hour, during which time she would be given access to only one ‘Guest’ at a time. And she wasn’t even expected to help put away ‘Re-shop,’ either, thank heavens.

Truthfully, it wasn’t that bad, the girl thought when comparing the day that had just passed to the two ‘Green Friday’s previous. The Guests were more friendly, organization had been higher than was usual, and it was an overall improvement when it came to the atmosphere. Plus, she added as a mental postscript, because they had opened earlier she was allowed to leave earlier. Which was a pleasant thought in and of itself.

With that sense of optimism coloring her view, the dark-haired girl pasted on her best ‘Friendly Cashier’ smile and readied herself to speak two octaves higher than her usual alto. But the expression nearly died and had a heart attack along the way.

The next in her line was a family: father, mother, three small children playfully pretending to run their toy cars along the blue cart’s topmost edge. But behind them was a face she knew immediately.

But never expected to see again, beyond her nightmares.

He’s dead. He’s dead. It’s just my imagination. It can’t be him. He’s deaddeaddeaddead…

The mantra couldn’t alter the very real state of the redheaded man lounging to the left of her register, chemistry set in hand and frown permanently etched on his face. And for the moment she took solace in the presence of the unknowing family standing innocently as a shield before her.

Hi! Did you find everything you were looking for today?

That’s great—especially with all the chaos going on. A smile.

Oh, before I forget, did you happen to have a Rewards card you’d like me to scan, for coupon points? No? Well, in case if you’re interested, it’s completely free…

The phrases rolled off her tongue in a well-oiled loop of well-meaning add-ons and pseudo-friendly conversation, even as her heartbeat began pounding loudly in her obnoxiously-wide ears (the one bane of her existence, outside of the whole ‘I’m a Superhero, therefore have no life,’ thing). The desire to turn invisible was a strong and immediate defense mechanism, but self-control kept it at bay with the knowledge of just where she was, and what she was doing.

Now was not the time. She had to keep her cool; to remain unchanging as she switched from one transaction to another.

And then she was handing the family’s receipt over to them with the same feel of handing over her only lifejacket, now free to sink or swim as the fates would dictate. Still, the girl attempted to lengthen the transaction to the best of her abilities, wishing the married couple well for their holiday weekend, but a scheduled execution could only be held off for so long.

With dread rising to the surface like driftwood from a wreck at sea, Violet Parr, alias Invisigirl, turned to her first and most feared enemy with a smile that was calm if a little frozen. And then she began the dance.

“Hello there, Sir! Did you find everything okay today?” the inquiry came over polite and over-perky, like an automaton attempting to pass for a human being, and for a second he blinked in his plaid button-up and just gave her a curious look, one thick brow rising.

“Um. Yeah. Everything was okay.”

“Good to hear. Ah! I see you managed to get one of the science sets--those went really fast this morning, so I’m surprised you found any left!”

Still slightly wierded out by the cashier’s strange interest in his single-item purchase, his second answer was only a nod. And Violet attempted to remind her ‘Cashier Persona’ not to lay it on too thick. There was only so cheerful you could go before people realized that something was up.

And something was definitely up.

“Okay, it looks like it dropped down to nine, ninety-nine. And it used to be nineteen, ninety-nine, so that’s not a bad drop at all! It doesn’t look like it’s going to run on batteries, but we do happen to have some on sale in case if you needed some for any Remotes--ah, or anything.”

Ah, crap.

Her quick save wasn’t quite quick enough as the two expressive brows created a raised ridge, then crashed low in a steady frown of thought. Violet still maintained the inquisitive, slightly neutral smile like a horror-flick clown caked in garish makeup. It was both pleasant and somehow extremely disturbing at the same time, but the Villain wasn’t focused on that now.

“No. No, this is all for now. Actually, wait.”

And just when she was about to expel a breath it turned to icicles again within her lungs, straightening her form till it was brittle and upright. She continued to smile, and he (she couldn’t even dare to say his name within her own head) finally matched it with a mischievous one of his own, breaking ground across a feature she would normally have called a ‘lantern-jaw of justice,’ on anyone less evil, scattering innocent freckles like gazelles under pursuit on the Serengeti.

He wet his lips then leaned in closely to rest his hands on the faded green counter hardtop, so much that she could practically feel his breath mingle with hers; a horror she didn’t know how to deal with, given the situation, so merely tucked it away for later deconstruction. And absently she noted that he had crossed one foot around the other so that it was propped up and tapping against the beaten tile floor, comfortable and suddenly in his element while completely shoving her out of hers.

“Yes?” it came out as a squeak, but she didn’t let her ‘Hero of the Year,’ smile fade or change, absently tucking her hands in her pockets as she saw them fade then disappear. Control. Control.

“The set. Does it come with a warrantee or anything? What’s your return policy.”

Ah. Safe ground.

This time the smile came out a little more sincere, if somewhat tart in its design. And while her elocution was simple and forthright, it was also stronger than its forerunners from mere minutes before, “well, our return policy for most items is set at forty-five days, but only if you have the receipt. If it’s been open you can only exchange it for the exact same item, but if it’s closed you can exchange it for another item. However,” she continued, on a roll, and she could tell for a second that her sudden optimism had put him off, if the distance he’d placed between them and again-frowning expression were any indication, “on the off chance that something might happen outside of the forty-five days, it does have the option of a Protection Plan. Which covers breaking, dropping, accidental damage, water damage, and any inherent manufacturer’s damage. It’s also set for fifteen months, or a year and three months in other words, which is great--especially if you know it’s probably going to get broken! Did you want to add a Protection Plan to your set today? It’s only a dollar ninety-nine.”

Criminal minds apparently couldn’t stand up to a well-prepared and well-informed retail associate, and any malevolent presence immediately dropped off in the sea of shock he was suddenly drowning in, “Ah…”

And then her smile took another wicked turn, arching up around the corner as she suddenly decided, among the chaos of the eight-hour shift she’d just dealt with, the mess, the painfully flashing lights and crying babes in arms, that the best defense was a good offense. After all, no one could accuse her of being too friendly or polite.

“We also have a promotion going on with our Credit Card right now, where if you apply and get approved you can save ten percent all day, at any of our stores. In case if you had an eye on the bigger chemistry set over there,” his freckled, pale complexion flushed with all the furious heat of a full-blown redhead, and at once she knew she had hit the spot. Still he shook his head.

“No. This is good. Can I scan my card now?”

“Yes!” she answered swiftly, and it was almost hysterical for a half second, till the emotion was cleared from her throat, “although I was wondering if you had a Rewards card that you would like me to scan today, so you can get points.”

“No.”

“Alright then. It’s free if you’re interested.”

“No.”

“And we are doing our donations right now for our Toy Drive. You can donate one, three, five, or ten--.”

“Listen, Sweetheart, I’m kind of in a hurry here. Can you just cut to the chase?” and suddenly without warning he was just another Guest, just another man on his hurried way out of a toy store on the day after Thanksgiving.

“Sure. Your total comes to ten-thirteen with tax. Would you like a gift receipt for this item?”

“No. Thank you,” the pleasant response was added as an afterthought, and breaking character for just a moment she nearly stared into his electric blue eyes in shock, the set cool and intelligent and dynamic.

Thank you. What a foreign word to fall like gems from such wicked lips, shining and unexpected. It reminded her of fairy tale she’d heard once of two girls touched by a Fae’s mixed blessing. The good had been gifted with gems and the wicked with slimy, green toads, both set to fall from their lips as they spoke.

She’d always thought that neither was a gift, especially as having sharp stones fall from one’s mouth had always seemed just as bad as being plagued with amphibians. And this situation was just a case in point. Only instead the frogs seemed to be tripping from her lips.

“Your…welcome. Sir. May I see your card and ID for a moment, Sir?”

“Sure,” and then her slim digits were brushing against his, and she fought the urge to gasp. It was like touching a furnace, the internal temperature inside an unending stream of nuclear fusion and slow-moving magma. In contrast, her slim form tended to learn towards bad circulation, ending in the girl always being cold.

She ducked her head for a mild blush, using the situation as an excuse to check the two names and the photo identification.

B. L. Pine Somehow he’d managed to pass by the requirement of having a full name spelled out on flimsy laminated card, but the ID hadn’t faired so well, showing his first name for all the world to see.

Beethoven.

She stared. Then blinked. Then said nothing upon handing the offending pieces back. And suddenly the transaction was at its end. Handing the receipt to his sudden quiet form, Violet mildly circled the survey at the top of her receipt before handing him the slip of paper, careful this time to avoid his touch without openly avoiding it.

“Have a pleasant evening.”

He seemed to accept her sudden reticent nature as his due, and merely nodded in goodbye before snatching up his single bag. And Violet found herself breathing again.

Dealing with Villains she could handle. It was dealing with Guests that was harder. But, well, once you were accustomed to the one it really wasn’t so difficult moving on to the other.

The thought was triumphant and more than a little relieved as she watched him walk away. But when all was safe was truly when everything was the most dangerous, the criminal’s form pausing, then casually leaning against the furthest register from her position.

And then he smiled. High cheekbones arching, freckles burning across too-pale skin as a gap-toothed grin was matched by a smiling scowl so deep he created his own mask as a frame to suddenly, violently blue eyes.

“Enjoy your holiday. Oh, and give my regards to your Father. Violet.”

He motioned pointedly towards her very obvious nametag, and then was gone. But not forgotten; no never forgotten. She wasn’t a green Super anymore, that was certain, but a part of her suddenly knew that she was playing a whole different ballgame now.

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AN:

Art imitates life again. This one actually sort of happened--a man who had done something horrible to a family in my ward (local church congregation) came through my line and all I could do was smile and move him through as fast as possible. I recognized him immediately, but he didn’t recognize me till the end, at which point he avoided me like the plague. XD So, yeah, it didn’t end the Synletty way this ends, but you get the general idea.

This was really awesome to write, by the way. I only had the beginning written, but suddenly it all flowed out of me like a daycare hyped up on pixie stix. And I’ve gotta say, for an unbetaed first draft, I’m pretty darn happy with this. Especially the parts that are my work-related. Yes, by the way, I do work at a Toy Store. Customers are ‘Guests,’ and I actually like it that way, so much so that it bothers me when the newbies call people ‘Customers.’ Green Friday is the name we call Black Friday (which, again, I like better, since it tends to have an optimistic outlook). Also, I’m known for handling everything with a smile, regardless of my shy personality, so that’s what I gave Violet in this situation: a smile.

Because, really, the best way to deal with any situation is to remain in control and, above all else, remain polite. No one can fault you for it.