we are ready for a street fight — p

[ghostpact]

Simon looked up, taking a glance at the TV before returning his attention to the precious coffee machine. A smug smirk grew on his face as he heard his own pseudonym uttered in the statement by the newscaster. "What? You don't wanna hear all about how we're the saviors of the city?" he jested, pressing a few buttons before the thing clicked and the familiar whirring of brewing coffee could be heard. "Heh, weird how they seem to always have footage of us, but can't seem to figure out who we are." It was a comment he was sure he'd regret later, but he wasn't superstitious enough to actually believe he might jinx it. He watched the TV for only a few more moments, walking over to grab the remote. The scene that flashed across the screen was at night, with a shaky camera, depicting John putting out a fire that Simon no doubt somehow started. Still, he saved the better half of an apartment building that night.

Clicking the controller, he flipped through the channels, looking for anything good on that wasn't news. The majority was covering their latest story that morning, the same blurry freeze frames of them spinning by. There was mention of Roach a couple times, but weirdly enough, the younger lad never got nearly the cover Soap and Ghost got. Finally, he landed on some movie channel. It was playing the Incredibles. He snorted, throwing the device back on the coach and turning back to MacTavish, and leaned on the back of the coach. "You 'fink I keep you around to be a friend? Of course not! Your ID in my phone reads, 'the breakfast boy'." Obviously, he was joking, if it couldn't be figured from the fact that this was coming from Simon, it could be seen in his smirk.

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