Writing this in one go just to get it out of my head… and to practice 1st person PoV.

Working Title: Scurry

Summary: It was the Fall of 1999, the new millennium was just around the corner, and I was going to do everything in my power to make it bright. (Non-Taylor PoV)

I poked my head into the spare bedroom, looking around slowly. I could have sworn I heard a noise in here. Suspicious, I stepped into the room and started giving it a more critical look. It was a bit dusty, out of use since last Easter when Anne's parents visited, but nothing seemed out of place. The floorboards creaked as I walked around, damn near glaring at everything I saw.

Nothing. But I heard a noise and I wasn't old enough yet to be hearing things. Crazy enough, debatable, especially if you asked my wife's opinion. I was reasonably sure I wasn't there yet so I trusted my gut and kept looking around.

Humming in thought I bent my knees and peered under the bed. Still nothing.

That's when I heard the giggle.

My head snapped up to see a wide smile just before the door slammed shut. "Sh-rap." I half cursed as I stood, stumbling to the door as I yelled out, "Anne! She's heading your way!"

"I see her!" My wife yelled back, and sure enough there she was. Standing at the top of the stairs with her arms held wide. "You're not going anywhere little lady."

Our daughter, as naked as the day she was born, stuck out her tongue as turned to run. "You can't catch me! I'm the Stinky Cheese Man!" She yelled, little feet slapping at the floor as she made for her escape.

"You're stinky alright!" Anne shouted, a grin just as wide as our daughter's spread across her face as she gave chase.

I almost felt guilty interrupting. Almost.

"Rah!" I swooped in, arms wide as I scooped Taylor up by the waist. Her little legs kicked in protest as she let out an extended "Noooooo!" but that wouldn't stop me. "Look what I caught!"

"It looks and smells like a fish," My wife said, poking Taylor in the belly to a cascade of struggling giggles. "And you know what we do with fish?"

"Eat'em up with a side of lemon?" I asked, faking a nibble at Taylor's struggling shoulders.

"No! You can't eat me!" She was all giggles as she tried to squirm out of my grip, but after four years I had a pretty good handle on how to deal with a hyper Taylor.

"No? Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"Well then, what do I do with this stinky fish?" I ask, looking into my wife's sparkling eyes.

"I say," she started, tickling at Taylor's belly, "We toss her back in the water!"

"No!" The toddler giggled, "I'm not a fish! I'm the Stinky Cheese Man! I'll melt!"

I let out my most evil, most diabolical, and most certainly my most over the top laugh as I stomped her back to the bathroom. She squirmed the whole way but she eventually was, after some careful angling, dunked in the water with a daddy exaggerated splash. Taylor squealed with all the melodrama of a four year old, "I'm melting! Melting!"

"Then you better stay in one spot so we can pick all of you up later." Anne instructed, a smirk on her face as Taylor obeyed with her arms held high and mouth hanging open. "Good girl. Now keep your eyes closed while we get your hair."

An hour later we were easing the door shut to a sleep Taylor's room. Hopefully she would be out for the night, otherwise, poor Anne was going to be up all night. I would, and usually did, help but I had plans for the rest of the night. Big plans.

I rested my head against the door to Taylor's room, taking a breath to ease the tension in my gut. It worked a little, not much but the sound behind the door. That soft snoring, reminded me of why I was about to do what I was about to do.

Anne touch my arm, pulling herself close as she whispered for us to leave. I nodded, following her downstairs where my duffle bag sat by the front door. I was a bit slower to get there, I don't why. I was doing this, no ifs or buts about it. I'd even describe myself as excited to get out there. And yet my lead feet refused to pick up the pace.

Anne stood by the door, rubbing her arms as if the outside chill had seeped into her. "Are you sure about this?" She asked, looking up at me with a look I so rarely saw on her.

"Yeah, I'm sure." I tell her, ignoring the way she was biting at her lip as I picked up my bag, "I'll be fine."

She didn't ask if I was sure, not aloud at least. Instead, she pulled me into a kiss, hugging me close even as she broke away. "You'll wear the vest?"

"Definitely." How could I not? She bought herself a little too much attention getting it from her old contacts in the Lustrum Movement for me. Hell, the implications of her getting a bulletproof vest almost made me want to wear it in my day to day life. I swear I've seen some women just glaring at me in the streets since she got it. "I'll be safe. I promise. I won't even be near the problems, for the most part."

"You better not." She said, pulling me tight for another hug and nestled her head into my collarbone, "I hate this."

"I know but I need to do this."

"I know." She mirrored back, finally stepping away and opening the door for me. "You just back come back here in one piece. You hear me, Danny. You're coming home in one piece."

I kissed her forehead, "I promise."

-0-0-0-0-

The Docks used to be a good place in the Bay. Not perfect, it was still had the shady bits that all ports had, but it was ran tight. Kept clean and busy by dozens of crews as they bustled about their work. There used to be security for every yard, keeping the gangs away from the boys at the Dock Worker Association. Keeping the people, the buildings, and the merchandise safe from all manner of thug and idiot.

It had been that way since I was a kid, before that even. Back when it was just those mob jackasses trying to run things in the city. The DWA kept its dignity.

But now the city was choking. Not because of gangs, not because of some villain, but because of the sheer idiocy of people not wanting to work together. Because of greedy politicians and spiteful sailors, all of them filled with fear.

Looking out into the bay, up towards the north, I could see the results clear as day. Forty something ship with the harbor, blocking the ports. All because some hotheads decided to sink a container ship when the police came. I was pissed too, everyone was. Jobs were running slim since that thing attacked Norway and slunk into the ocean, more so after it hit Australia. Companies were gun shy and trade started to wither, it wasn't dead but many thought they saw what was coming. They thought they saw the end.

I was for the protest, for our voices to be heard. Hell, I was down on the ground with the rest of the boys. We had plans, we had proposals. We just had to be heard.

But the Mayor wouldn't listen. He sent the police to break us up. I don't know who started it. Maybe the police got a little rough with the wrong guy or maybe one of the cops was just a jackass, I don't know. But the fight broke out all the same. Punches were thrown, bullets flew, idiot sailors ruined everything.

All because people refused to listen. Because they refused to be patient. Because they -

I took a breath, I needed to. My head was starting to ring as all the new sights, sounds, and smells slammed into my mind. I needed to be careful with that. Didn't want to get carried away on my first night, I needed to start slow. I made a promise after all.

I stretched out my senses, peeking down every back ally and rundown building as I walked down the street. There weren't many people on the street, not this late at night, but few gave me more than a second glance. Which was a bit of the point of my outfit, I guess. The suit and tie were more because of a joke then anything else but the camouflage it offered was pretty convenient too.

Not exactly heroic, not like the rainbow guy in New York or the rest of that team of his. Then again, my power wasn't as flashy as theirs.

I pulled down my hat as I passed another person just getting off work, hiding my mask from sight for just a bit longer. I already felt like a jackass going out like this as is. I didn't need people asking me questions before I did literally anything.

A wind swept in from the bay, salty air tingling at my nose and making me glad for all the layers I was wearing. For a moment I considered putting on the trench coat I had draped over my arm but decided against it, it was doing a far more important job at the moment. Plus, my cheap suit jacket was doing more than enough to keep the chill off me.

It was hours before I found something. Most of the night I just found a few drunks and one very adventurous couple but this was different. A few streets down from me were three men, each younger than me and each dressed in what looked like garbage. They wore tattered shirts and beat up leather jackets decorated in bones and what looked like torn up tires. They looked like extras from an 80's movie, one even had a fucking mohawk.

To make the stereotype worse each one of them held a pipe or chain in hand, laughing as they started smashing their way into the building's back door. I honestly couldn't ask for a better first target on my first night out.

I was too far away to do anything myself but that didn't mean I couldn't act. I smiled a bit to myself as I reached out, stirring up a bit of mischief in the sewers below the Warrior's rejects.

They came out from gutters and storm drains, in pairs and groups they spewed forth in a chittering mass. I didn't make them subtle nor did I hide their approach as they scurried towards their targets. The Three Stooges must have been on something cause they didn't hear them coming, not at first at least.

"The fuck?" The smarter of the three asked, some disbelief filling his voice as he saw the carpet of beady eyes and sharp fangs flooding towards them. "The fuck is that!?" His voice a bit shrill as the wheels in his brain started to turn.

But it was too little too late, the rats were on them.

They screamed and flailed, pipes and chains swinging wide as they tried to brush off the mass of fur latching onto them. Little claws ripped into their jackets, biting off the bones they had hanging so loosely to their outfits, and pulling at their hair. I didn't have them do much more than have them nip at the skin with their teeth, not enough to pierce or even scratch the skin but they didn't know that. I didn't want to risk it, who knew what these guys picked up from the sewers. Hell, imagine how they smelled.

Instead, I settled for scaring the shit out of them, tripping them up and corralling them to the wall. Keeping them in place for me to arrive.

I wonder how it looked from their perspective. To see me casually strolling down the alley. The sea of rats parting as I approached with no signal and closing behind as I passed. Must have been impressive enough, one of them pissed themselves.

I squatted down in front of the three men, teens really, looking each of them each in the eye as I regarded them. If I was honest, I didn't know what to do from here, didn't really have much a plan besides making a show of force. If I wanted to get these three arrested I should have stopped at the payphone before coming over. Well, no need for them to know I messed up.

"Evening boys," I said, trying to sound as casual as I could as I tipped back my hat and revealed my domino mask. "Mind telling me what you're doing here?"

"Who are you?" One of them demanded, apparently gaining some courage now that he had a human face in front of him. "Are you one of Marquis's guys? Butcher's going to fuck you up."

"Sshhh," I cautioned, revealing the club hidden under my coat and pressing it to his lips, "How about you watch your tone or I give you back to the rats, got me?" I had one rat tweak his ear just to emphasize the point, he whimpered. "I asked if you got me? Do you understand?"

He gave a shaky nod, not daring to open his mouth again.

"How about you two?" Removing the club from one thug and pointing it to the other two.

"Y-yeah, we get you."

"Good," I said, taking a moment to think on how I wanted to word this. "Now, I don't work for the Marquis but I do have a bone to pick with your boss. You see, I don't like what he's been doing in the Docks. I don't like seeing places broken in to, I don't like seeing people getting mugged, I don't like seeing gang signs. Basically, I don't like seeing your ugly mugs walking around."

I leaned in close, making the rats go still and silent as I leaned forward, "Which is why I want you to send him a message for me. Can you do that?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. I want you to tell him that the Docks are protected." I tell them, standing to my full height and bringing back the chorus of rats, "Tell him Sinatra wants him out."

-0-0-0-0-

AN:

Not entirely happy with this but at least the idea is no longer at the forefront of my head, Thanks Fighter's Block… That said, not being happy with it likely means I'll have to rewrite it. 1st person is more difficult than I thought, at least it is for me.

Anyway, this idea is centered around a 20 something Danny Hebert with rat control, in the same way Taylor had bug control. His range is smaller, a little over a block (usually) but he has a better handle of the rat senses then Taylor had on bugs. Allowing for more spy games early on if he wanted.

This story is set in 1999 Brockton Bay. The Marquis and Teeth still have a strong presence, the E88 has yet to become as entrenched as it was, and the PRT/Protectorate have yet to set up shop in the Bay. Danny is one of a handful of independent heroes trying to keep the city safe.

While the Brockton Brigade aka New Wave pre-reveal would have a strong presence in the story I have a different idea for who Danny would regularly team up with. He's a canon character, he just doesn't have a proper name in story. Here's a hint on who he is, he had superstrength and a danger sense.

I'm thinking that each arc would be roughly a year because I like the idea of the Heberts becoming a family of capes in the future. With Annette having a bud of Danny's that lets her control birds like Aiden and Taylor being a third gen with her canon powers.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed. Please tell me what you think and feel free to make suggestions for the idea!

Sidenote: That club was originally going to be a bat so I could call it a Rat Bat.