Monae Queen was [b]bored[/b]. 

The fight – if you could even call it that – had left her unsatisfied. A child could have floored that guy. She could have done it in about 20 seconds, but she’d been trying to squeeze some fun out of it. Shame. Once the MC called for the next unlucky contestant, she dialed up the charm. Time to work the crowd. 

Tossing her ponytail in an easy manner, she made eye contact with one of the other female teachers and smiled. French Lit – and Cipher Creation – “Madame Paulette! Come on, how about a [i]pas de deux[/i]?” She caught the flash of the other woman’s grin, but a shake of the head followed. No dice. 

“You – red hat guy – Jackson, from the cafeteria, right? You any good?” 

A hearty laugh followed as the hefty man was nudged by his companion. “Baby, the only ring I’m interested in is tomorrow’s donuts.” He raised the bottle of hard lemonade in his hand. “Besides, I’m 4 bottles in, I think I’d fall over before the bets are over!” The crowd laughed and she laughed with them, disappointment disguised behind a grin.  

“Aww. Well, save me a donut and we’ll call it even.” Given a thumbs up, she spun to seek a new target.

[b]There were eyes on her.[/b]

There always were, but rarely did she get that icy twist in her stomach. Kassy called it “prey-sense” and said that everyone had it. Not just metahumans. Regular humans, even children had it – but many had been taught to ignore that hind brain sense of danger. Any soldier’s sense of it had been honed to a point, and hers in particular to a needle. Always useful for a spy. 

Unfortunately, it was near impossible to pinpoint in this crowd. But she felt her senses narrow just before the silence, and the reason stepped forward. 

“I’ll accept the fight. Slade Wilson.” 

She was being studied like a textbook, and despite knowing she was looking another killer in the eyes, she had to wonder just what he read. The name wasn't familiar, though, so why the shared response? What did they know that she didn't? 

“Call sign,” He smiled in a way that straightened her spine and evened her breathing for a brawl. “Deathstroke.” 

[i]Oh.[/i] 

She’d heard the rumors and stories, but no one had paid her enough to make investigating worth the time or trouble. Losing was going to hurt. There was no backing out, though. Cowardice was a stain you couldn’t quite wash out, and she couldn’t lose face when she still had a name to build here.

Allowing her moment of surprise to go unmasked, she nodded her head in respect. And then, a real smile lit her eyes. At least she wouldn’t be bored anymore. “Monae Queen.” Most spies didn’t have chosen call signs – what was the point of secrets if you signed them? “This will be exciting.”

Jake recovered from his surprise, long enough to pep up the crowd. “That is what I’m talking about! A living legend versus a fresh face! 15 seconds. Beers, bets, grab a friend -”

Monae didn’t bother to listen to the rest, but focused in on who was going to be her opponent within a minute. Just because she’d overstretched didn’t mean she wouldn’t go down without a proper show.