Taylor walked out of the conference room, one hand holding onto Tattletail and the other shaking inside of her suit jacket.

The tension leaving her body was like... nothing she had ever felt before. Oh, sure, she’d had adrenaline highs before, more of them in the past few weeks than any other time in her life, but never just from a conversation.

“You did really good, Big Sis,” Tattletail said.

“Well,” Taylor corrected. She gave her foxiest little sister a shaky smile, then, because she felt like it, pulled her close to her side. “Thanks.”

“It’ll be okay. We only have one more big thing today. Just one, and we’ll be okay.” Tattletail’s efforts to comfort her were mostly in vain, but were appreciated nonetheless.

“Right,” Taylor said. She started walking a little faster until they reached the elevators which automatically started descending to the first floor. “I’m... glad I have so many good little sisters. You guys are great, you know?” she said to a beaming Tattletail. “Chaotic, bratty, annoying, but still great. I’m glad that you’re all around even if it means days like today sometimes.”

The doors opened to reveal chaos.

There were plushies running around, some missing large chunks of their bodies and dropping bits of fluff the way someone might imagine soldiers bleeding out on a battlefield. Arrows stuck out of the ground here and there as if they had been melted into the marble, and a pair of PRT troopers were trying to wrangle a plant while another plant ran across the lobby on two dozen doggy legs, the pot it was planted in scraping across the ground as it barked with all seven of its heads.

“What the--” Taylor began. Then she saw the likely culprits standing off to one side, three very angry-looking girls and a small army of plushies and potted plants with doggy heads facing off against a frazzle-haired Miss Militia.

Taylor dropped Tattletail’s hand and stomped across the room.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Cheshire was saying. “You ain’t the boss of me. You’re not my mom.”

“I might not be, but you can’t just... live fire a weapon like that, it’s dangerous,” Miss Militia was saying.

“I can do what I want,” Cheshire shot right back. “You can’t stop me.”

Remedy, who for some reason was wearing a plastic Glory Girl mask, and Crochet, who was hugging a knife wielding Armsmaster plushie to her chest, both nodded. “You were very rude,” Crochet said.

“I wasn’t rude, I just didn’t want you to, to do this,” Miss Militia gestured wildly to the lobby, then locked eyes on Taylor.

“Crochet, drop the plushies,” Taylor snapped. “Remedy, those plants had better be compost in the next three minutes or you’ll be the one living in a pot. Cheshire, get those arrows out of the ground, and give Miss Militia back that crossbow, it’s not yours.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“But she’s a bitch, and I won this,” Cheshire said.

Taylor felt her entire face twitch. “You will give that back and get to work cleaning up your mess right away or so help me god I will bend you over my knee and spank you in front of the entire PRT. Do you understand?” Cheshire started nodding frantically. “Now apologize to Miss Militia.”

“I’m sorry Miss Militia. You’re an okay hero. Give this back to the shadow bi--gger girl that was very nice.” Cheshire pushed the crossbow into Miss Militia’s unresisting grasp and shot off to do as she was told.

“Where’s Pop?” Taylor asked.

She saw the heroine’s eyes widen, but her response was cut off as the littlest ninja appeared by her side. “I am here, onee-sama.” She smiled the way someone who wasn’t a serial killer in the making would smile. “I have caused no trouble.”

Taylor doubted it.

She turned to Miss Militia and smiled as warmly as she could. The superheroine took a small step back, hugging the crossbow close to her chest. “I appreciate you looking after my sisters. It’s awfully kind of you,” she said.

“How do you do it?” Miss Militia said.

Taylor blinked. “Do what?” Taylor noticed the time on a wall-mounted clock before Miss Militia had time to elaborate. “Never mind. Everyone, we’re going, hurry up!” she snapped.

Taylor snorted at the troopers that snapped to attention at the sound of her voice and shook her head. Moments later she was surrounded by a sea of little sisters.

“Okay, we’re heading out now. So, ah, bye.” She had another appointment to make, and she didn’t want to be around when someone started throwing blame for the mess.

Miss Militia just stared at her as she left, something like a mixture of awe and terror in her eyes. Poor woman was probably a single child, Taylor assumed.

Taylor made a quick headcount, tore a toy crossbow out of Cheshire’s grasp to toss it into the chest of a PRT trooper that fumbled, then caught it, then nodded to herself. All accounted for. Everything was well and good in the world.

“I need to pee.”

“I’m hungry.”

“Onee-sama, that man is looking at you strangely. May I take his eyes?”

All well and good.

“Okay, come on everyone, hold it in and stop grumbling, we have a bus to catch. Don’t worry, there are bathrooms and food where we’re going.”

One last stop, and then they were home, and she could lock herself in her room for at least twenty minutes until Pop teleported in, or Cheshire phased through the door, or Remedy made some unholy lock-picking monster.

She couldn’t wait.