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She had been waiting for this day for ten interminable days before it. Finally, she had come up with a tactic that would allow her defeat Marlo Xanis at Battleship--not like she had a particularly bad time at it, the pair of them were fairly evenly matched, but it was always close. Tate could not bear always being close in a game of tactical skill. She just couldn't do it. It wasn't like Battleship was considered as high a strategical game as chess, but that was why she was willing to risk a game on her newest Etsy acquisition.

It was a kitten sweater. Not just any kitten sweater, but THE kitten sweater. They stared. It had creeped out a good many people on her walk over, even if she did, in her own mind, completely rock it. The wing collar of her undershirt poked up, a tie in a lovely shade of gold kept it professional, and just...

She felt very good about the kitten sweater. Very, very good.

So she'd gotten there early, with the board game under her arm, and set everything up. Marlo would do his own board, of course, so she just set that down on his side and ordered her drink--coffee, black, dark roast. Her friend and sometimes opponent had similar tastes, but she didn't remember if it was her turn to buy or his. If it was his turn, she'd just say he was late and she got impatient. Or they could just go dutch. That might work, too. Tate leaned back in her chair, adjusted the turquoise monstrosity, and looked out the window with her half of the game board protectively closed.

Any time you're ready, Xanis, she thought, with a decided feeling of glee.

Oh good, he'd seen it. Did he understand why she'd worn this particular sweater on this particular day? No, probably not. But he would. Oh, he would, when Tate kicked his a** around the block and sank all his battleships. And the patrol boat. And the aircraft carrier. (If she was really all that fussed over freaking Marlo out, she might have petted a cat with her fingertips and whispered to it Watch him well, precious. But Tate was not actually all that fussed over the freaking-out, as much as she was fussed over the act of winning. Tate liked to win.)

"We'll see, we'll see," she said, opening up her side of the board once he was seated. She nudged it with the pads of her thumbs into exactly the angle she wanted it, eyebrows flirting with the ends of her bangs--it must be killing him not to comment on the shirt.

She enjoyed that thought. "Well, sometime this century, Xanis," said the auburn-haired young woman dourly, resting her chin on her knuckles.

And the cats? They stared.

Tate smiled at him. It was an angelic smile which showed exactly the right amount of teeth, and by virtue of that completely terrifying; the last word anyone should be using to describe Tatiana Konstantin was angelic. Marlo would know exactly what she meant by that smile, she hoped, and she reached across the table to pat his fingers. "Don't worry, sweetie," she said, sarcasm heavy on the endearment. "I'll be gentle."

With that out of the way, they settled in to the game. It did seem like Tate was on her game in ways she had never been before; she took out his first battleship in three turns, exactly as many as needed, while her own fleet skirted around Marlo's attempts to sink them. It might have been suspicious, but a quick examination would reveal that Tate had not tried to take advantage of any fortuitously-placed mirrors; this coffeeshop was small and both of them frequented it often enough that their names were known. She'd been through by herself last week, and she'd gotten a landslide of questions as to where Marlo was. Did he have a disease?

As she waited for him to take his turn, she tapped her fingers on the table in a staccato rhythm. It wasn't consciously meant to distract Marlo--that was just a beneficial side effect. And in the light, the apple sigil on her signet ring glinted rather distractingly.

"Any day now, Xanis," she said.

It was somewhat disingenuous of Tate to smile that angelic smile again with a few more teeth. She was not playing around, and she was glad he knew it--even if it meant he was a little more uppity than usual. His gaze slanted away from his own game board, and towards her hand; she obligingly folded her fingers in, curling lightly against her palm, the signet catching the light one more time.

The line of questioning threw her a bit. Her jewelry choices or lack thereof were really not relevant to the game, any more than her sweater choice was. Which is to say, they shouldn't have been but the individual peculiarities of the Xanis and Konstantin pair made sure they were. What was he trying to accomplish by bringing up her ring? Insinuating it was a promise ring... She scowled at him, eyebrows dipping low. Could he see the sigil? Avalon's apple? She hadn't thought that her jewelry choices would attract attention, which in retrospect she should have. "Accessorizing, really," she said, trying for levity and ending up sounding a little suspicious.

Tate decided to make a joke, and see how seriously he took it. Well, she said joke; it was more of a confession. "It's my super-secret superhero club ring," she said, "I've joined a group of knights." Just like that, the sigil shimmered into sight--at least, for Marlo Xanis. Couldn't deny the magic of that, not at all. Which meant Tate wasn't lying--which she knew already, but she was rather more apprehensive now.

"s**t," she said. A7 was the center of her aircraft carrier. "Hit. E5, you smarmy b*****d."

"Wipe that smug look off your face," she said, sourly, as she stuck a red pin into the other side of her ship. Two more hits and he'd have her, but at least she still had four ships. He'd lost one already and she hoped the second would soon follow. "I'm going to slaughter you." There would be blood in the metaphorical waters, and it would be that of Marlo's sailors if it meant she had to give up the vast majority of her own fleet.

She nodded her head at that, humming a bit of a dismissal. "I do like saving the city from ******** all, means I get more homework done." But then, a reveal she hadn't been expecting. Tate's eyebrows rose a fraction of a centimeter, barely enough to be noticed, and she took a moment before she realized what it was: A henshin pen. Or, as she preferred to call them, a transformation pen. Either Marlo was a senshi--or he'd offed one. But honestly, she thought for sure it was the former. Marlo wasn't a killer, as far as she knew.

Tate rubbed her chin, then wedged her elbow up to support her head. "F5," she guessed, leisurely. "So, superhero antics. Maybe we should compare notes."

Tate smiled right back, sweet and angelic again. Hero? Maybe, but right now she was just being a huge b***h. And she knew it, too! That was the worst part. She smiled, and then she shrugged and danced a pair of pegs around her coffee cup before taking a sip of the bitter drink. "We can play Battleship online," she said, scowling a little at the thought of it. How boring it would be, playing games on line. She remembered the months of chess online with Giselle, how she'd hated it and bitten her tongue on numerous invitations out to dinner and games and fun times.

She sort of missed that, now, and had filled the hole with Marlo. The thought of losing him to New York City was driving her up the wall.

"Sounds like a plan. I've just been harassing an old grandma and learning to fight monsters. It's not as hard as I thought it would be." At the mention of the side job, her gaze sharpened, brown eyes narrowing. "A side job," she asked, sticking a white pin into her game board. "Miss. G5. What kind of side job, and does it have limited openings, Mr. Xanis?"