Shawna stared at him.
"You invented it?" Her eyes moved over him — the rumpled jacket, the general air of someone who made his living on the street — and arrived at unconvinced. "You don't look like it. At all."
"Doesn't look like what, exactly?" Jude gave her a flat look. "A cook can't have hobbies? When are people going to stop doing that?"
"Ms. Baez." Wells rolled forward smoothly, the picture of academic calm. "As someone with some standing in the research community, I can confirm that the patent Jude has presented is entirely legitimate — and more than sufficient to secure your boyfriend's early release." He paused, as if the next part genuinely puzzled him. "I confess I have no explanation for why a street food vendor of considerable skill would spend his off-hours studying aerodynamics and applied mechanics at a graduate level. But the work is real."
Barry, Cisco, and Caitlin all nodded along. When the gliding jet-kite backpack blueprints had landed in their inbox that morning, their first instinct had been to wonder whether Jude had been replaced by a very well-disguised engineer. The gap between the man who cheerfully hawked nikuman from a cart and the person who'd produced those schematics was — significant.
Good thing Central City apparently doesn't have a Kite Man, Jude noted privately. Otherwise this patent goes nowhere.
"That said," Cisco said, still studying the blueprints with the slightly pained expression of someone trying not to get too attached, "we don't necessarily have to use the patent route at all. Assisting in the capture of criminals — exposing gang activity, helping close major cases — that counts as meritorious service too. And we've actually turned up something relevant: your boyfriend Clay has outstanding debts with several Central City gangs. High-interest, the kind that doesn't get forgiven. If he were willing to help us take some of those operations down—"
"You just don't want to hand over the patent." Shawna looked at him. "You think Clay doesn't deserve to have his name on it."
"The guy took your money to go gambling," Cisco said, a little too quickly. "I'm just saying — you might want to ask yourself whether he deserves it. That's all. I don't even need to say it. You already know."
Shawna went quiet.
She couldn't argue with it. She knew exactly what Clay was. She'd always known. That had never been the problem.
"It's your call," Jude said, cutting across before the silence got heavier. "The patent isn't going toward any commercial product either way — I have no use for it in that sense. The only question is which path gets Clay out: the invention credit or the cooperation route. Both are on the table."
Shawna sat with it for a moment, then exhaled. "I'll go talk to him this afternoon."
"That works."
She nodded once, then frowned. "There's still one thing you haven't answered. What do you actually need me to do?"
"Right." Jude leaned forward slightly. "How closely have you been paying attention to what's been happening in Central City lately? The strange stuff."
Shawna considered this. "I mean — there have been a lot more bar fights than usual. Random ones, no real reason. And people keep getting their wallets lifted in the middle of them." She shrugged. "I figured it was just… a bad stretch."
"Those fights," Wells said, "are almost certainly the work of someone with metahuman abilities."
"You're in and out of most of the bars in the city center," Jude added. "You've probably seen more of this than you realize. — Cisco, what's the status on the bar footage?"
"Barry went to Joe this morning. Joe said he'd have the case files organized by noon."
"Wait." Shawna held up a hand. "You're still not telling me what you need me to do."
Jude gave her a direct look. "We need you to help us catch people."
He let that land before continuing. "It's not just the bar fights. Two citywide blackouts. A fireball streaking across the sky last night. And you yourself — all of it points to metahumans, and there are more of them showing up every week. We've also confirmed that a very organized, very clever thief is actively recruiting meta criminals for a crew. Central City is having a moment, and it's not a good one."
At the mention of the fireball, Barry, Cisco, and Caitlin exchanged a look that they didn't quite manage to keep off their faces.
"Obviously," Jude went on, "dealing with a wave of metahuman criminals is easier if you have metahumans on your side."
Shawna blinked. "You want me to — catch supervillains?" She looked around the room to confirm no one was joking. "Why? What about the Flash? Isn't this literally what he does? He'd probably do it for free."
Barry coughed quietly into his fist. "You don't have to phrase it quite like that."
"The Flash won't be available," Wells said. "At least not in the near term. He engaged a metahuman during last night's blackout and temporarily lost his speed. Recovery will take several days — and I'm afraid Mr. Snart won't be scheduling around that."
"Snart." Shawna's eyes narrowed. "The one with the cold gun? Stole those diamonds from the museum?"
"The same. He's the one building the team. He hasn't recruited many yet, which is the only good news."
"But I can only teleport." She spread her hands. "I'm not a fighter. I've never been a fighter. How am I supposed to go up against any of these people?"
"Teleportation is more than enough to handle a significant number of opponents," Jude said. "Don't sell yourself short. Snart already knows you exist — that's a disadvantage we can't get around. But the others don't. Every other metahuman out there has no idea what you can do. That's an enormous edge, and with training and a solid plan behind you, it's decisive." He smiled slightly. "First-contact knockout. That's your move."
Shawna stared at the ceiling for a moment, then let out a long breath.
"Fine. I already said yes, didn't I." She stood up and reached for her jacket. "I have to go see Clay at the prison. I'll come back this afternoon for — whatever the training situation is."
"That's all we need," Wells said. He guided his wheelchair forward and extended a hand. "It's genuinely good to have you with us, Ms. Baez."
Shawna looked at the offered hand, then shook it.
"Let's hope you still think so after the training."
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