Summary: If the universe could just give you a break that would be great – reasonable, even, after everything that had been going on in your life. As it currently stood, that was a far-off dream. Everything had accumulated to this one moment. Stood before you was some new villain of the week, unrecognizable, whom you had been lucky enough to stumble upon during his escape. You didn't care to know who it was – just intent on getting out of the situation before ending up a hostage.

Note: I need this to sort of vent. Unlike the reader in here though, at least my phone was found. Did I run across to grab it out of the road? Sure. Should I have? Mm, maybe not.

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Of course.

Of course, this is how your life was going for the moment. It had been an interesting enough few days to say the least. Your car had determined that it was no longer going to work for you – instead deciding to idle while your foot was on the gas before shuddering and forcing you to pull off on the side of the road. You were thankful enough the breaks were still up to doing their job. It had been one attempted fix after the other and your finances were beginning to look bleaker than normal if the current trend continued. At least without another paycheck due soon and rent due even quicker. Then in the glorious process of setting your phone on the hood while you checked over the tires, you had failed to remember the device only to realize later, after the tow-truck had dropped you off, that it was likely slung onto the road or somewhere in the abyss beside it. Never for your eyes to see again.

After days of little else going your way, you were done. With only $5 left in your account, you couldn't miss another shift at work. No matter how badly you wanted to call out. So that left one thing to do – pull on your uniform and walk the entire way there. Something you were less than keen to do in the humidity and sun, but your options remained far too limited.

It was slow going, admittedly, running across roads and weaving through people. Desperate for a little reprieve from the sweltering heat beating down on you, the choice to cut through the back alleys was easy enough. You knew this area like the back of your hand, and you knew you had plenty of time, if the old phone your roommate had let you use was anything to be trusted.

But maybe you should have paid more attention to your surroundings. Walking on autopilot, you paid no mind to the commotion ahead, writing it off as normal Central City excitement. An unfortunate misstep, you realize, when you feel yourself collide with a solid body.

The shock has you reeling for a moment, blinking up in surprise – making dead eye contact with a man dressed in a gaudy outfit who seems just as caught off-guard as you do.

It's a moment longer: one, two, three. And then 'click,' you realize exactly what is about to happen. Standing before you is some new super villain. Not a Central City regular, at least not yet if so, because you don't recognize the device at his side or his outfit. Much less him. And you feel the dread settle in your stomach as you watch the light behind his eyes come on; you, in all of your underpaid, sweaty, too-done-with-the-universe-right-now self has just volunteered as a hostage. In reality, you had the moment you took the backways.

You have to wonder in that moment if the pros outweigh the cons: Pros, the Flash family seem cool enough that one might even run you to work afterwards – and oh, now that you think about it, that is approximately one single pro; the cons, however, you're not in any mood to be dealing with someone who just crawled out of "Food Weekly for Villains," you're not in any condition to be meeting a hero, and you don't want to show up to work roughed up more than your commute is leaving you.

You try to make a break for it, gaze set past him before moving to enter into a dead-sprint. But the cogs in his brain seem to finally be turning, which you guess explains the smell of smoke, and he catches you – just barely. But it is enough to throw you off balance and pull you back flush against himself, one arm wrapped tight around your neck.

You don't know who he is, you don't know what he's capable of. Plenty of dangerous villains look like they got their outfits at a knock-off Halloween store, but they still prove to be deadly foes. It isn't worth it to risk angering him, as giddy as he seems now, you worry that his mood could change in an instant if you try to escape. Choosing then the better option, especially with limited airflow, to keep your mouth zipped and listen to the monologue he had begun.

"I left a note for those speedy rats – and now when they show up, I'll have even more leverage because of you. Who knew Central City would be so easy! A step up from Gotham!" He hollered, causing you to flinch as he waved his weapon in the air, tightening his grip.

Of course, he had come from Gotham. Of course.

You had to restrain yourself from rolling your eyes, just in case your captor decided to look at you when you did so. That seemed like something that the world would set up right now.

But too busy thinking of how to tune out the shrill joy of the man holding you hostage, and trying to leverage how much damage you would cause yourself trying to bust his shin, you notice a moment later than he does when a gust of wind hits and the hand that held his weapon is suddenly empty. It's when he stops to stare at his weaponless hand that you finally notice something is wrong, before realizing someone new is standing in front of you.

"Looking for this, Condiment King?"

Your mind blanks for a moment. Condiment King? You had heard of him. Most people had. Some C-list hack of a villain out in Gotham.

You got taken hostage by fucking Condiment King?

As though the last few days and the fact you were going to be late for work from stepping straight into a criminal plan hadn't proven to be embarrassing enough, now you were finding out you were being held hostage by one of the worst villains to exist. In front of the most attractive speedster, you realize when you get a better look at the hero before you – Impulse.

Maybe this was a sign that you should move, you reason silently in your head.

The illusion was broken when Condiment King finally seemed to realize what was happening. "It doesn't matter, I still have a hostage." He seemed sure of himself, as smug and almost as giddy as he had been the moment that he had grabbed you.

He tightened his hold around your neck for a moment while he spoke; you grabbed at his arm, trying to pry it away from yourself enough to keep breathing. You had to give him credit though, he was stronger than he looked, and you weren't in the best position already. A second later you could breathe, thinking he had loosened his hold on you until you realized that your surroundings had changed. Though your back was still flush against someone's chest, you were no longer staring at Impulse, but at Condiment King, with an arm protectively swung around your shoulders.

You didn't need to see the speedster to hear the amused and taunting tone in his voice when he next spoke. "What hostage?"

"That isn't fair, you-"

Condiment King's words were cut off in the next moment, and between blinks he was gone. A gust of wind and a trail of electricity left in his wake before Impulse stood before you once more, a satisfied grin on his face. "Are you okay?"

"Uh," you paused, trying to wrap your head around what all had just happened. "Aside from being late to work, yeah." As you spoke you began to pat down your pockets, ensuring the few items that had been on you still were – thankful to find that was the case.

"Need a lift?"

"If you're not too busy then please," you practically begged, shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Where to?"

You told him where your job was and began to regret your decision when you saw the sly smile on his lips. "Hold on."

"Hold o-" You never got to finish your sentence, instead ending it with a squeak when he lifted you up, instinctively throwing your arms around his neck. "I don't know what I was expecting, honestly." You admitted in surprise. Not that you minded.

It wasn't that it took long for him to get you to work, but it almost felt like it should have taken even less time, not that you had really paid attention when you shut your eyes the moment he started moving.

The other thing you probably should have considered was that he was going to drop you off directly in front of your job. Where all of your coworkers and the patrons could see you.

As you were being held. By Impulse. Who was waiting for you to stop tensing so he could let you down safely. You did so, mostly avoiding looking too awkward before thanking him.

"Not an issue," he assured. "Sorry I couldn't get you here faster, but I don't think your manager will be too mad."

"Maybe I should just start getting kidnapped more often then if it gets me a free ride from you."

He seemed surprised by your comment before his same amused grin returned even brighter this time. "There's easier ways to get my attention," he promised before winking and taking off.

His words left you frozen for a moment before they finally set in. "Oh," you said, though it was to nobody but the air. Taking a deep breath, you readied yourself for the assured onslaught of questions to be faced once you went inside – trying to decide if you should admit just who had taken you hostage to begin with. Though, you mused, maybe it was worth it today after all.