Asher debated a moment, then realized the human’s priorities were a bit…off. Especially since Asher had concluded the temperature fluctuations were not, in fact, limited to his imaginations. “Are you part of a union?” Asher asked.

Mr. Banes thought, just a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, yeah I am but-“

“Then your union rep is likely going to back you. Especially given what I’m seeing of your documentation and work record,” Asher replied idly, not catching himself in time. Mr. Banes looked like he wasn’t about to let those little supposed-to-be-private-unless-provided-via-search-warrant-details slide, so Asher cleared his throat and—borrowing from some of his ‘colleagues’ penchant for dramatics—leaned forward and dropped his tone. “It’s not the legal system that should be weighing on you, Mr. Banes. It’s the fact that Calamity Jim has a wife…er…girlfriend? Partner? Hell, could even call ‘er a side-chick if you’d like, get it? Side-kick?”

By Mr. Banes’ frown, he did not get it.

Ash sighed again and leaned back. “Let me get you in on a well-known secret, Mr. Banes. Supers? They don’t care about legal turnouts or case proceedings. I’d put good money on you clearing any charges of being found at fault here. Hell, I’ll represent you if you think your rep isn’t giving you a fair shake even, pro-bono.” Mr. Banes might have looked a little uplifted if he wasn’t waiting for the other shoe to drop. Asher was beginning to really feel for the guy. “But Calamity Jane isn’t going to care that you weren’t found at fault. All she cares about it that Calamity Jim passed out due to toxic fumes and then was summarily vaporized by you firing up the silo.” And to really hammer the point home. “You’re married? You have a kid?”

Mr. Banes’ expression was getting paler and slicker by the second. Asher’s face was bearing the brunt of his blasé impunity.

“My partner is out of town and my son—” Mr. Banes expelled a heavy breath. Then repeated his mantra of, “No one was supposed to be down there.”

“Because you followed the rules set in place to protect people.” Ash made a point of side-eying the wall. “Because when people don’t follow those rules, what happens to them, Mr. Banes?”

Mr. Banes looked at the wall as well, then jumped a little when he looked back across at Asher, who took that reaction as he might have been laying on the dramatics a little thick. “People can get hurt,” Mr. Banes responded quickly.

“Exactly, Mr. Banes,” Ash said, leaning back and resuming his relaxed stance. The heat in his face was mitigating, however, so he’d made his point effectively elsewhere as well. “Because people who don’t follow the rules can get hurt. Or worse yet, hurt others. And on that note,” Asher set down his tablet and smiled at Mr. Banes. “I’ve made arrangements for your son. His school has been in contact and is cooperating. Your partner has also been located, and work is being done to bring them to safety as well.”

“From Calamity Jane,” Mr. Banes said slowly. He looked back to the blank wall. “What about… Sandpoint’s side-kicks?”

“Sandpoint isn’t dead,” Ash explained bluntly. “At least, far as I’m aware based on his physiology. Something about reincarnation? Rapid regeneration? Some people get all the luck of second, third, even fourth-chances, am I right?”

Mr. Banes was frowning again.

Asher took a moment to underline an earlier note he’d made: No animosity toward Supers. Well, no client was perfect…

“Am I free to leave?”

“Sure, sure,” Asher replied, waving a hand. “Just, you know, if I were you, I’d stay? On account of this being probably the last place Calamity Jane would want to hit.” Ash stood up from the table and made his way to the door. “But let’s see if we can’t get you some better, more comfortable accommodations in the meantime, eh?”

“I— Thank you,” Mr. Banes said, appearing somewhat defeated.

“Not a problem,” Asher said, swiping his keycard. The door dinged, but Mr. Banes spoke up before Asher could fully step through, which more or less broke the illusion so the very normal and boring hallway packed with now a half dozen Supers was somewhat visible now.

“Thanks again, uh, Asher? For the coffee. But I’m a little—” Mr. Banes held up his arms and nearly toppled out of the chair. He had clearly been expecting resistance from the cuffs that were no longer impeding him, and, by Asher’s estimates, hadn’t been for the past ten or so minutes. In fact, they lay open and unlocked before him, the leg restraints beneath also slack.

“Oh right, I found all that to be a little much, didn’t you?” Asher spoke up for the hallway crowd. Mr. Banes was still looking at the cuffs in silent disbelief. Asher spared him. “I’m a fixer, Mr. Banes. It’s what I do; I get people out of situations. And I’m more than happy to be getting you out of yours. Just sit tight, and I’ll fix things from my end.”