The next morning, I was up early. As usual, I'd told Dad I was with friends. He knew something was up, but with so many people orphaned after Leviathan and the Nine, he didn't fight it.

Everyone else was getting up. As far as my bugs could tell, Marinette hadn't slept.

And we had been forced to slide food under the door to her.

"So, it'll be Skitter, Ladybug, Ryuko and I," Lisa said. "Ryuko as the quiet bodyguard, and Skitter as the warlord."

"She's not a body—" Chloe started to say.

"Ayup!" Tattletale cut her off. "Stick with my plan. We don't want a whole mob walking in, and this way, nothing can go wrong."

"Bank job," I said quietly.

Lisa shot me a glare, then grinned. "Okay, I'm almost certain nothing will go wrong." Then she sighed. "And if something does go wrong, we've got our heavy hitters out here. The Protectorate isn't going to pull something while there's a certified Class-S counter out here."

Adrien winced at that, but nodded. "And so we stay here."

"Yep," Lisa said. "Unless you don't…"

"No we trust Ladybug," Alya said.

"Even if she's trapping us here," Chloe muttered.

It was then that the door opened, and Marinette came out, yawning. "I have your stuff," she said.

"You've been working all night. We have a meeting today," I told her.

"I've done it before."

"Yeah, you have… wow, three days?" Tattletale said.

"And then she crashed," Chloe said. "A friend had to save her from drowning in the soup bowl."

"Thank you," Marinette said. "Now, I've got your and Skitter's outfits. I didn't have time to do ours, so we'll just have to say that…"

"You didn't exactly have time to bring clothes?" I asked.

"Good enough. Since you probably want to wear your regular costumes, I went with cloaks and dresses that fit over them. "She held out one bundle. "Skitter, this is for you."

I looked at it, and then shrugged it on over my costume. It had been cut so that it fit easily, the end stopping at my lower legs, a slit allowing me to move, while the fasteners were secure without being too tight. It had a mask so I pulled my mask off, fastening it to the belt, and put the mask on. It left my eyes exposed,and there was a clip for my glasses to sit on it. I blinked at that.

"This isn't for fighting," Ladybug said. "So letting people see your eyes and that you need glasses, humanizes you. Makes you…"

"Less existentially terrifying," Nino said.

"Right." I turned to look in the mirror and blinked. At first glance, my uniform looked black, drab… but then I saw the subtle interlays of gold and silver thread, tangled together, creating outlines of spiders, wasps, centipedes, twining up and around the dress. My mask had what looked like raised feelers flaring back, calling attention to my hair, the outline of a golden scarab beetle centering the mask.

"It is beautiful, Mistress!" Nooroo said as he flew up. I cuddled him for a moment. It was odd, but I could tell he'd been starved for positive attention.

Two peas in a pod.

"Now this is nice," Lisa said as she raised her hands. Her cape was longer, less useful for fighting, but then fighting wasn't her forte. But the scarlet and purple outfit just gleamed in the light, and every time she turned, more of the silver and gold thread caused eyes to come and go, giving the sense that you were always being watched by the figure. Her mask was like mine, not armored, a single golden eye gleaming on her forehead.

"How is it?"

I looked over at Ladybug. "You and Parian should get together."

"They'd either love each other or kill each other," Tattletale said with a grin. "Well, it's time. Let's go."

Walking through town in costume for an extended period was odd. Marinette noticed how people moved away from Skitter, stared at her and Tattletale and… Glared at Kagami.

"What's wrong?" She asked Tattletale.

"Oh, Ryuko is Asian. Skitter told you about the ABB and their people. They probably are making bad teleporting killer or crazed bomber comparisons."

"Oh." At home, we never had to think about this…

Kagami simply ignored any glares. At one point, a man with crew cut blond hair and a number of tattoos peeking out from his shirt stepped in front of and folded his arms. Kagami stopped, returned his gaze, her form tiny against his. Skitter started to move, but Marinette put her hand out to stop her.

"Are you going to move?" Kagami asked.

"Think you can make me, Chink?" He dropped his hand to his belt knife and then there was a breath of air. Suddenly he was on his ass, blinking up in surprise. Ryuko hadn't seemed to have moved.

"Yes." Ryuko stared down at him, and he got up and lumbered away.

"What was that?" Marinette asked.

"Pissed off ex-E88 member, isn't dealing well, was hoping for suicide by cape." Tattletale shrugged. "That's about the only reason to stop two unknown capes, me and Skitter in the middle of the street, and try to start something."

Finally, they got to the bus stop. Tattletale glanced at Ladybug and grinned. "We're not fast like you and Ryuko and we don't want to show off any vehicles since the PRT may be taking pictures. Bus isn't threatening, gets us there in time, and shows us off to the locals."

Marinette blinked, it made sense but…

Riding a bus with a pair of five-year-olds staring at her and Ryuko from the seat in front of them was strange. The seats were also clean, and suddenly Marinette noticed that the man driving the bus looked a little fit… and was armed.

Riding the bus my ass, we're being transported. I bet everyone here works for Tattletale. At that, the villain's smile grew larger.

Finally, they were at the building of Quinn Calle's law firm. Many of the windows were gone, being replaced by wood.

"Shatterbird," Tattletale said. They walked inside, where an attractive secretary directed them to his office, seemingly not put off at all by their appearance. The took the elevator and then stopped in front of the door to the office.

All right, Marinette thought. She took a deep breath and opened the door, leading everyone else inside.

Quinn Calle rose to greet the three as they entered. The room had several seats in front of a desk, with a broad window looking out onto the Bay. Evidently, lawyers merited the quick replacement of their windows even in a city like Brockton Bay.

"Greetings, Skitter, Tattletale, Marinette and I believe you are…"

"Ryuko."

"Lovely." Calle smiled. He was a handsome Latino man, maybe not as old as Marinette's parents. Marinette noticed a scar running across one side of his face, out of place in his carefully prepared look.

After they sat down and Calle offered them drinks (Marinette took water), he looked at them and then got serious.

"The first thing I need to tell you, as a lawyer, is that I should be representing you," he pointed to Marinette, "and you," he pointed to Skitter and Tattletale, "as separate groups. It may be that you'll then want a different attorney."

"But," Tattletale said. "That's not part of the plan."

"The problem is, Tattletale, that your plan won't work, at least not as written."

"What?" Tattletale was now glaring. Marinette frowned, but Calle was smiling.

"I expect that your power clues you in on what is happening. You look at a room, set up things, look at a person, etc, etc. Am I right?"

"Yes." Marinette winced. Tattletale's voice was frosty.

"But you're not a precog, and you're not a lawyer," Calle said. "And the PRT knows that and your power is actually counterproductive for a lot of legal work, because that involves setting up a lot of little steps, ending in you sitting where all your choices are bad choices. Your power can't help you there." He paused. "The PRT has dealt with thinkers, and they even have a term for it. Tunnel-vision syndrome. There's a reason why people like me still make money."

"I—" Tattletale huffed and fell silent as Marinette leaned forward.

"Why should we be separated, Mr. Calle?"

"Well, for one thing, you're from another world. For another thing, given that Skitter is potentially looking at a treason charge, linking you two would be very bad."

"Wait." Marinette blinked. "Treason? I thought some people thought you were a villain, but others think you're a hero."

"Well, the PRT isn't among them." Calle smiled. "So let's first put down, from what the PRT sent me after Tattletale's rather sudden request, the charges you might face."

That didn't sound good. Marinette took a calming breath, looking over at Ryuko, still sitting straight up, sipping her tea.

"We'll start with…" he paused, looking at some documentation. "April tenth, criminal negligence with a parahuman ability, sixteen charges of assault, sixteen charges of battery with a parahuman ability."

Marinette frowned. Okay, we didn't get her entire history, but it can't be that bad.

It was.

The charges just kept on coming.

"…thirty two charges of hostage-taking, technically domestic terrorism, each perpetrated with a parahuman ability…"

Marinette started to slump in her seat.

"June eighteenth. Destruction of government property, four counts. Hostage-taking, assault and battery of a law enforcement officer. June nineteenth, complicity in another count of treason. Complicity in manslaughter, nineteen counts…"

Heroes didn't whimper, Marinette reminded herself.

"Anything I missed?"

"Murder," Skitter said. "Coil was actually Thomas Calvert. I killed him."

"Did you… also double park?" Marinette asked.

"No. I don't have a license."

Marinette bit down on an urge to start laughing hysterically as she got a sudden image of Skitter being sentenced to death for treason and traffic school for driving without a license.

"Well, not the worst I've had," Calle said. "But most importantly, that was before Skitter was tossed into another world, and played a major role in stopping an S-class threat, and became friends with a group of heroes who include potential S-class threats. And that is another reason why we want to separate the two. Tattletale, your plan would work, maybe, but at this point, especially given how unstable the PRT and Protectorate are, explicitly linking your two groups becomes a threat that cannot be ignored.

"Skitter helped us," Marinette said.

"And that's fine. Bring that up. Bring up how she, when freed from a corrupt system, and not in a city barely hanging on, worked with the heroes."

Well, eventually she did…

"Oh, I see," Tattletale spoke up. "No threat of us teaming up, but hit the Undersiders too hard, you risk alienating Ladybug and her team."

"But the charges against Skitter!" Marinette protested.

"Here's the thing. These are preliminary. Not filed yet. The state and federal AG's can file them, make no mistake, but they haven't yet."

"Why not?"

"Because that's a declaration of war. Once charges are filed, a large number of people have a vested interest in winning. If Tagg had been in charge, I'd expect that. But he's been overruled."

"So we can push," Tattletale said.

"Maybe," Calle answered. "But as your lawyer? I'd advise against pushing too hard. You can't just present demands, you have to give concessions."

"Like what?"

"You effectively run part of the city and the PRT—and US—can't allow that. Not long term. You have to arrange a way where they are seen as being in charge. But a lot of that is dependent on what the PRT puts down for their initial demands." He smiled. "But I think we do have a solution, to make things go down easier. You knew about Coil and his infiltration of the PRT, correct?"

"Yes," Tattletale said. "He had moles all through it."

"So your action could be seen as a group of heroes, forced to behave as villains, due to corruption at the highest levels of the local PRT branch, with you unable to find someone you trust?"

Tattletale blinked. "Yes. But that's not wh—you're kidding."

"What are you talking about?" Skitter asked.

"He wants us to try and get them to publicly state that we were always working for the PRT, that this was an undercover operation to root out Coil."

"And presuming the meeting we're going to have breaks right, we come to the best solution a lawyer can give—both sides walk away with a reason to maintain the agreement." Calle smiled. Then, he turned to look at Marinette, the light briefly flashing on his teeth.

Marinette had a sudden sensation of looking at a shark.

"Now, Ladybug, let's talk about your situation…"

"What do you want?" Calle asked. "I know what Tattletale says you need, but what do you want?"

I paused, staring at him. It was a good question. He was also subtly reminding Ladybug that her needs and our needs might not be aligned.

"We were thinking of, until we can get home, forming a team here, to help the Bay and—"

"Let's stop with that. Why not the Wards or the Protectorate, if any of you are of age?"

"I'm… Not at liberty to say," Ladybug said. "It's not criminal, but we need to be independent."

Calle nods and makes a note. "Fine. Are any of you adults?"

"Back home, when we're like this, we're treated, as adults," Ladybug said.

"So your cape identities are granted those rights. What about your civilian—don't tell me—identity?"

"No."

"Okay, now that could be a problem, especially given your power. That being said, since we don't have contact with your home, we can just state that your cape identities are considered to be of age." He pauses. "Now, registering as an independent team has a few requirements. For one thing, you need insurance. Cape insurance can be pretty high, but the PRT can provide it, and often do. Secondly, when dealing with non-parahumans, you have a number of requirements to be considered anything other than a regular citizen—you have to attend a class on the continuum of force, pass an emergency medical certificate course, and register with the PRT and local police."

"It's a way of keeping independents under control." Tattletale said with a smirk.

Calle didn't smile. "For independents, it's a way to stay out of the PRT's hands. One of the biggest mistakes vigilantes make is failing to understand proper procedure and then getting pulled in for violating those standards." He looked at Ladybug. "But so long as you are in good standing, it also grants you limited immunity from civil suits."

"That's… Good?" Ladybug said. She looked a little run over.

"Good!" Calle replies. "But now we need to talk about your team and how we'll organize it. What do you know about limited liability corporations?"

Ladybug pauses, evidently thinking hard. "When I was working on my fashion work for Jagged Stone…" She closed her eyes. "You'd better tell me. I don't know if my world's idea is like yours."

"It's a legal construct to immunize you against legal liability. It won't protect from criminal, but let's say we create "Ladybug INC." A lawsuit would attack the corporation's assets, but in most cases, wouldn't endanger your own personal funds. Better, if the PRT gets picky about your age, we can set the management of the corporation in such a way that you will have some autonomy, even if you have to wait until you're emancipated… or of age." He tapped his pen on the desk. "It's also a way to more effectively deal with the IRS when you start collecting bounties—a corporation has lots more tools to reduce your tax liability." He paused. "You'll eventually need a business manager. I can suggest one, if you don't have any one you trust."

"Let's think about that later," Ladybug said.

"Fine, it's just something to think about." Calle nodded. "Now, let's talk about what assets you're bringing to the table—none of this helps you if you're penniless and—" he spoke over Tattletale "—the fact is, you want to be very careful about accepting funding from less than legal sources, no matter how much they've been laundered. No matter how clean it is legally, the PR can be very damaging, especially if it looks like you're receiving ongoing funding."

"Chat Noir is going to be breaking Grey Boy bubbles. He already freed Dauntless from the time bubble downtown." Ladybug finally said.

"Well," Calle said after a moment of silence. "We don't have to worry about your funding, if that's true."

"What?" Ladybug asked.

"The PRT has a standing 10,000 dollar bounty for every bubble with a person within it that you can burst. There are, at last count, at least 9,000 Gray Boy bubbles in America."

Ladybug frowned, and then I saw her eyes widen under her mask. "That's 90 million dollars!" She turned to Tattletale. "You didn't say anything about that much money!"

"And that's just the PRT. There are literally thousands of other bounties out there, from family members or research institutions, religious groups—even if they just die the moment Chat Noir bursts the bubble…" He chuckled. "I wish you had mentioned this at the start because if you can do this, go ahead and take money from less than legal sources. For that matter, if you want to wear nothing but body paint, go streaking through the PRT HQ in DC and force the directors to sit on whoopee cushions, they'll grin and bear it and talk about how eccentric you are."

"I… but the Endbringers…" Ladybug blinked and I could hear the confusion in her voice.

Calle leaned back, then spoke in a quiet tone. "Your friends," he gestured at Tattletale and I, "Didn't live through Grey Boy. The Endbringers are worse, in numbers, in power, but most people see them as… natural disasters. Impersonal. Grey Boy was different—and his monuments remained. Neighborhoods and towns he hit tended to be evacuated, not due to any physical danger—but the fact that there was a substantial increase in the suicide rate in those regions. You've mentioned this to the PRT?"

"Yes," Ladybug said. "We're doing it regardless of any deal."

"Good. I'd say a good chunk of the older PRT and Protectorate leadership probably has someone in a Grey Boy loop." He clapped his hands. "Now, we can't to much more planning until we find out exactly what the PRT is going to demand, but we can get the ball rolling on your corporation. Ladybug a good name?"

Ladybug frowned. "No…It's not like I'm the only one… How about Zodiac?"

"That's a good choice." Calle smiled. "Welcome to the big leagues, Ladybug."