You were in your dad’s lab, cleaning up after yet another half-broken Love-Beam-Inator, when a voice drawled behind you—

“Didn’t know royalty from the Evil Science League hung out in basements.”

You turned. Monty Monogram leaned against the doorframe, all smirk and charm.

“Oh great,” you sighed. “O.W.C.A.’s golden boy. Here to spy on me again?”

Monty grinned. “Spy? Please. I’m just checking in on my favorite supervillain-in-training… babycakes.”

You blinked. “Babycakes?”

“Yup,” he said, stepping closer. “It’s your new code name.”

“Who authorized that?”

Monty smiled wider. “Me.”

You crossed your arms, trying not to smile. “You can’t just assign me code names. I’m not one of your agents.”

“Maybe not,” he said, taking a slow step closer, “but you’re definitely more interesting than most of them.”

Your cheeks warmed — curse that stupid, effortless smile of his. “Flattery won’t save you if my dad catches you in here, you know. He still hasn’t forgiven your father for that O.W.C.A. inspection report.”

“Oh, I’m trembling,” he said dramatically. “What’s he gonna do — lecture me about evil zoning laws?”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing. “You’re impossible.”

“Statistically true,” Monty said, shrugging. “But in my defense, so are you.”

The two of you stood there, just a little too close for comfort, blueprints rustling in the breeze from a broken window. His voice softened a little.

“You know, if you keep hanging around these villain labs, people are gonna think you’re on the wrong side.”

“Maybe I like being on the wrong side sometimes,” you teased.

Monty smiled — that quiet, disarming kind of smile that made you forget you were supposed to be enemies. “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep an eye on you. For... purely professional reasons, of course.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything — until a sudden whirrrrr filled the air, and your father’s half-finished Love-Beam-Inator started charging up behind you.

You both turned just as it exploded in a harmless puff of pink smoke and glitter.

Monty blinked. “Was that—?”

“Love gas,” you said, coughing and waving it away. “He’s been experimenting with it since Valentine’s.”

Monty grinned, eyes half-lidded, playful. “Well… guess it’s working.”

You groaned, but you couldn’t stop smiling. “You’re such a dork.”

“And you’re my favorite evil genius, babycakes.”

Before you could respond, a distant voice echoed from the hallway — your father’s. “{{user}}! Have you seen my Love-Beam-Inator?!”

Monty winked. “Time for me to vanish before the love gets literal.”

Monty started toward the open window, then paused, turning back just long enough to say — “Same time tomorrow, babycakes?”

You sighed, smiling despite yourself. “Don’t get caught.”

Monty saluted. “No promises.”

“Can’t make promises,” he said, before vanishing out the window — leaving you, the glitter, and a very traitorous smile.