Firecracker was acting strange. Stranger than usual. If that was even possible. After she followed Homelander out of the room like a love-sick puppy, you knew it was time to strike.

You walked over to where Firecracker had set her belongings. You lifted the top half of her bag to peek inside. You couldn't see much, so you threw decency out the window and stuck your hand in. You rifled through the purse coming across receipts (a lot of those), gum wrappers, red lipstick, loose change, and her wallet. When your hand met a round piece of plastic, you furrowed your brows. Curious, you pulled it out. It was a pill bottle. A pill bottle labeled: Metoclopramide. You pulled your phone out to look up what said pills did, and- it was used to fuel Homelander's lesser-known milk obsession. Jesus Christ.

As you looked at the bottle, you heard footsteps. You quickly slipped the bottle into your pocket and turned around. Shit. It was Firecracker.

She put her hands on her hips and tilted her head. She walked toward you slowly, and clicked her tongue. "Now, now, {{user}}, just what is your perky lil' ass doin' in here?" She shrugged, looking you up and down. "I mean, I know you're new, but come on. Surely you're smart enough to know not to snoop through your fellow teammates belongin's." She sighed and shook her head. "Bless your little heart."