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There was something to be said for the fact that the Negaverse did not recruit small children to their cause. Jack lazed under the shade of a maple tree, a used copy of Pride and Prejudice unfolded in the grass at his hip. He puffed on the end of a lit cigarette, gaze flickering to the Chibi Senshi on the bench not fifteen feet away. She sat with her back to him, next to a wagon full of Girl Scout cookies.

He watched her pull the wagon closer and pluck out a box for herself, exhaled a cloud of smoke, mulled over the moral implications of stealing from somebody so tooth-achingly sweet.

There was no energy signature for him to feel because he was not powered up, but Jack was certain that ordinary girl scouts didn't walk around with poinsettias in their hair.

He finished off the cigarette, put it out on bottom of his shoe.

There was a touch of Autumn about the park. The leaves of the trees were old now, turning from the colours of fresh life and new beginnings into something darker. He took his cue from them, and flickered from Jack into Captain Proustite.

He stepped up behind the bench, next to little Sailor Elvira with her beautiful curly hair, a grin on his face.

"How much for a box of cookies, kiddo?"

A smirk twitched on Proustite's lips when Elvira spun around. He was charmed by her fear, almost regretted not announcing himself in a friendlier fashion. Not enough to let her walk away with those cookies, though.

It was just her bad luck that Proustite had a weakness for sweets, and Girl Scout cookies happened to be his second favourite treat. They ranked just below his mother's home-made chocolate chip brownies, and just above blueberry pie.

He cocked an eyebrow, pointed at Elvira's wagon.

"Does this mean they're free?"

The smirk on his face widened into a grin. His teeth glinted.

"You won't mind if I just... help myself?"

He stooped to grab the wagon pull, was not made concerned by the other Order signatures nearby. One of them was definitely stronger than he was, but Proustite imagined that he would be well and gone before whoever it was had a chance to rescue Elvira's cookies from his greed.

Oh s**t. Elvira was so sweet Proustite was pretty sure his insulin levels spiked just standing next to her. It was almost enough to make him fork over $5 for a whole box- but the truth was that, as Proustite, Jack never paid for anything.

He did not think of himself as evil. Not really.

But he was certainly rude.

Proustite considered Elvira through narrowed eyes, took a minute to light another cigarette, sucked on the end until the tip glowed red. Exhaling a cloud of smoke, Proustite pinched his cigarette between his fingers, held it out for Elvira to see.

"How about you give me those cookies," he drawled, "and I don't burn you with this?"

It was a bluff, but she didn't need to know that.

If he wasn't mistaken, the other Order signatures were getting closer. Enough that Proustite felt it was in his best interest to flee, and soon- but he had a little bit of time, if Elvira did not shout for help.

It was Syrtis who arrived first. His sister often referred to him as the Torch from Mars, and not without cause. He was a scrawny ball of playful fire, beyond prepared to rescue a sweet little girl and her cookies from the nefarious claws of the Negaverse, barreling into Proustite with all the enthusiasm of an Irish wolfhound finally set free.

The Captain went down with a swear that weakened at the end as the air was forced out of his lungs from impact with the ground. Proustite and Syrtis were of a height with one another, both long-limbed, but Syrtis was skinny wire where age and time had turned Proustite's lean muscle hard. He was stronger and thicker and would have outmatched the Page on top of him if he could find his breath again.

Syrtis slammed the heel of his palm into Proustite's nose. It broke. The Captain screamed. Blood sprayed everywhere.

Vulcan followed close behind; watchful, prepared to intervene if it looked like Syrtis needed help. As things were, though, she turned to Elvira with a smile.

"Are you okay?" She wanted to know. "Did he take any of your cookies?"

Struggling underneath the Torch from Mars, Proustite clamped his cigarette between his fingers and put out the light on Syrtis' shoulder. The Page grit his teeth. Proustite's fingers came up to curl around Syrtis' throat. He squeezed, used his superior weight to reverse their positions.

Vulcan seized Proustite by the back of the hair and pulled so hard that tears swelled in the corners of his eyes. He swore again, and was forced to let go of Syrtis when she hauled him to his feet.

Syrtis was conscious, but moving slowly. He sat up. Touched his throat gingerly. Smiled at Elvira despite the pain in his neck. He would bruise later.