Storiesonline.net ------- The Omega Path by Lazarus Valentine Copyright© 2011 by Lazarus Valentine ------- Description: Even in a world with superheroes it is universally recognized that love is the greatest power of all. But as Tricia, Annie, and Joey adjust to their new lives, they soon discover that, like all powers, it has a price. Codes: MF mf mF FF Mult cons rom les het fant ScFi humor superhero zom group BM WM WF OF HF safe BBr ------- ------- Author's note: This story takes place after the events of "The Omega Touch" and "A Midsummer Knight's Dream." ------- Chapter 1: Deception and Tape Recorders "Okay ... It is ... Friday, September twenty-fifth, two-thousand nine. Six-fifteen PM. Coroner's report for prisoner number... two-four-six-four-five-oh-one-one-dash-gee. Security reports last seen alive during lockdown at ... nine PM on the twenty-third. Doctor Kenneth Fuller reporting. Diener is Victor McCarthy." "Hey Ken!" "Hey Vic! Oh good. What did you get?" "I got... ham and swiss, and a turkey and with provolone." "I'll take the ham. Deceased is a well developed, well nourished Caucasian male. Weight eighty-three point four kilograms, height one hundred ninety centimeters. This is compatible with the stated age of thirty eight years ... Thanks... Body is... mold... mand migor erf... rigor is present and fixed to an equal degree in all extremities. Lividity is present and fixed on the posterior surface of the body... exfept in... areas exposed to pressure." "Who is this guy?" "That supervillain. The one that..." "Oh! The one they found yesterday? They finally brought him in?" "Yeah." "Any ideas yet?" "Don't know. Heart attack, maybe. Irides are fixed. Each pupil measures ... point five centimeters in diameter. Sclera white, with an enlarged blood vessel in the left. Teeth natural, complete. Thorax symmetrical. Abdomen is slightly protuberant. Skin shows no punctures, no open wounds, no signs of bruising. Minor scar from RFID implant. External genitalia are of an adult male type." "Sucks that we have to work so late, Doc." "Yeah, but the FBI wants this one wrapped up." "Hand me that scalpel." "And on a Friday, too. Here." "Thanks. Making Y incision." "So, did you have any plans tonight?" "Nothing special. Cassie works late, so it was just going to be microwave pizza, beer, and World of Warcraft. What about you?" "Julia and I had dinner plans." "Anyplace special?" "Seafood. She likes crabs. I don't understand that. Ever look at them? They're disgusting. No, I draw the line at four legs. Anything past that and I don't touch it. Seriously! Crabs do not look like they belong on this planet. They WHOAH!" "What?" "Take a look." "Holy shit! What the hell is that?" "I think it's his stomach." "What happened to it?" "Don't know. Preliminary observations of internal organs show massive damage. Discoloring, looks like some decomposition, perforations in the stomach, upper intestine. Pustules on the kidneys, and looks like some contaminate growths on the lungs ... This is not right. Check the paperwork. Is this the right guy?" "Two-four-six-four-five-oh-one-one-dash-gee? Yeah. It's him." "When did that say it he was last seen alive?" "Two days ago." "No way. There's no way this guy was alive last month. Double-check his implanted RFID. I'll get some samples." "It's him. RFID matches." "Well, I don't know what the hell this is. Externally he looks normal. Healthy even. Internally though ... Something destroyed him from the inside." "Something he ate?" "Step away from him. Get the Geiger counter. Now!" "Easy." "Closer." "Check his mouth too." "For a moment I thought he ingested some plutonium or something. Let's continue with samples." "Here. I'm extracting his stomach." "Tag this for the lab." "Got it." "Looks like it's going to be an all-nighter. So Doc, hope you didn't have anything planned for the weekend, did you?" "Not really. You?" "Yeah! Cassie and I are going to have dinner tomorrow night on the Odyssey." "The Odyssey? The Potomac cruise?" "Yeah." "Oh, that's nice! I've done that before. Sounds like a special occasion." "It's our anniversary. Five years!" "No shit? Congratulations!" "Thanks Doc." "I mean it. Half of marriages don't make it past five years." "Well, we work on it." "Of course you know it means that, statistically speaking, you've got a fifty-fifty chance of destroying your marriage before tomorrow." "Well, I think we're pretty safe. And besides, today is actually our anniversary." "Today? Really?" "Yeah." "What are you doing here?" "We were waiting for this guy, and I knew you needed help, and Cassie's working late..." "No! No, no. If there's one thing I've learned in fifteen years of marriage, it's that you don't postpone the anniversaries, birthdays, holidays, or anything else. Go." "No, you need..." "Go home! Make dinner for your wife, get her drunk, and sleep with her! I've got this." "You're sure? Cause I can always..." "I'm fine." "I can take care of this." "Thanks Doc! I owe you." "Yes, you do." "I'll see you Monday!" "Have fun." "So, it's just you and me now. Man, what the hell happened to you? ... Damage to the internal organs is pervasive ... Lungs, stomach, kidneys, liver, intestinal track, spleen ... There's too much. This guy must have been in pain for weeks..." "Nothing. No reports of pain." "If he wasn't in pain, then this means all this is recent damage ... This might be a homicide. Somebody had it in for this guy." "Who the hell are you?" "... 'Tombspawn'? Huh. Mass murder, grand larceny, domestic terrorism ... Well, looks like you made some enemies." "Dash-gee. Genetic. Mutant ... Wonder what were your powers were." "... 'Necrokinesis' ... What the fuck is necrokinesis?... 'Manipulation, reshaping, and reanimation of necrotic tissue' ... Oh, I remember you ... You could raise the dead." "Huh ... Well, Tombspawn. It's too bad those powers don't work when you're dead." "WHO SAYS THEY DON'T?" "AAH!-erk" "WHERE IS MY STOMACH?" "Oh ... here." ... "Taking your clothes..." ... "Because you're dead, and don't need them anymore." ... "Isn't it obvious?" ... "It's called necrokinesis. Controlling the dead." ... "Simple. I make you look like me..." " and me look like you. And then I walk out the front door." ... "Why would I be interested in her?" "No. There's someone else I'm interested in." ... "For a dead man, you ask a lot of questions." ... "But I didn't die yesterday. I died a long time ago." ... "Six years." ... "It was Omega Man who killed me! He punched my head! Broke my skull! The bones went into my brain, killing me. But nobody noticed." ... "What was I supposed to do? I was in jail and dead. I had nothing to live for ... No. Not nothing to live for. Nothing to exist for. Until now." ... "Did you see him on television? They found his son." ... "Oh, but I must." ... "I have to. I was taught what to do. The warden only allowed me one book to read. It was very clear on this subject." ... "And the LORD passed by before him, and proclaimed, The LORD, The LORD God, merciful and gracious, longsuffering, and abundant in goodness and truth, Keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, and that will by no means clear the guilty; visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children, and upon the children's children, unto the third and to the fourth generation. "Exodus. Chapter thirty four. Verses six and seven. "This is what they teach us in prison." ... "Stop your prattling and whining." "Your PIN number. What is it?" ... "I SAID TELL ME YOUR PIN NUMBER! NOW!" " ... eighhhht ... twooo ... ssssix ... sssevennn..." "That wasn't so hard. Good. Now..." "My RFID tag. You may have it. I won't be needing it anymore ... And what is this? "A tape recorder? "I'll take this too." ------- The booming music filtered out of the nightclub through the windows and walls, and would sporadically clarify itself every time the front doors opened, releasing a couple eager to find the privacy of a room, or a car, or just a dark alley. The bouncer would then let in the next couple, and the long line of eager patrons all moved up a step. But across the street and up on the rooftop, hidden in the nighttime shadows, a figure watched with concern. A cab pulled up, and she stepped out. Tall, beautiful, long golden hair, flawless olive-toned skin, thin waist, full breasts, tight black dress, and killer legs, she strutted to the front of the line, walking barefoot on the hard rough pavement. The bare feet were her signature. She approached the bouncer and gazed at him with dark eyes. He considered her. "I'm here for a good time," she said. "Hope to find myself a few men to buy me some expensive drinks." The big bouncer smirked and looked her killer body down and up. He noted her bare feet. "Sorry, lady. Shoes required." "Oh, what's the matter? Think I'll hurt myself?" "Rules. Not mine." She smiled slyly, and the door opened, expelling another couple. The young man held his new date in one arm, and a bottle of wine in the other. As the couple passed, she reached out and snatched the bottle of wine. "Hey! That's my..." SMASH! The woman stood there holding the neck of the bottle with one hand, and her other arm held straight out in front of her. She had hit the bottle against her own arm, shattering it. Glass splinters and wine dripped and fell from her flawless skin. Red wine beaded up and dropped off her, refusing to even stain her. There was not a drop of blood. She lifted the broken bottle to her lips and sensuously licked the shards of glass, and stepped forward, crunching glass pieces beneath her bare feet. The young man and his date stared at her in utter horror. She looked them over, and scoffed. "Huh. Best you could do?" she asked in sympathy. She didn't wait for a reply. She simply turned to the bouncer and dropped the wine bottle neck on the sidewalk. "I'm going inside now," she informed him. "Maybe I'll see you later?" She winked, and walked into the club. The figure in the shadows sighed in grim annoyance, pulled out a cell phone, and made a report. Inside the club, the music blared and pounded violently, hard enough for her to feel the vibrations in her chest. It was music loud enough to damage the ears of any normal person. She strutted inside, saw an attractive man chatting up a good looking woman, and took his arm. "Buy me a drink," she commanded him as she pulled him away. "I'm lonely." The man did a double-take, checking out this new woman and comparing her to the one he was working on, and decided he had moved up. "Sure," he answered, and he signaled to the bartender. "What would you like?" "Impress me." He held up two fingers to the bartender. "Cognacs!" he called out. "I'm Brad. What's your name?" "Ada," she replied. "Have I seen you before?" "Probably. But not around here." Brad picked up their drinks and escorted Ada to a small table, glancing at her full breasts for a brief second. "You look familiar." "I have one of those killer racks," she said, smiling. He chuckled. "So what brings you here?" He glanced over at the woman he had just left. She was staring and fuming at him, and she turned in a huff and stalked away. He shrugged. She didn't matter to him anymore. He turned his attention back to Ada. Ada sipped her drink and leaned close to him. "Looking for someone special." "Like who?" "Oh, I know who it is. But until I meet him, I'm more than happy to play around." She smiled at him and licked her lips. Outside the club, the figure closed his cell phone and hung it on his belt. He then looked over the side of the building and jumped, clearing the wall by ten feet, and he glided down on wings outstretched. He landed with a heavy THOOM on the street, startling the line of patrons. Bullwhip folded his wings back and walked up to the bouncer as the patrons gasped and shrieked. The bouncer took one look at the superhero, and stepped aside. The massive man strode inside, impervious to the thundering music, and the moment they saw him the crowd made a wide path for their dark guardian of justice. Conversations stopped and died in his wake, and as he stepped into the middle of the club, there was a sudden silence as the music cut off. He stood before the table and stared at Ada. Brad looked up and appeared like he wanted to melt. Ada smiled. "So, if it isn't Bullwhip! The Capitol city's most famous and, dare I say it..." She licked her lips. " ... eligible beefcake!" She sipped her drink. "So what did I do to deserve this honor?" Bullwhip never took his eyes off the woman. "Armed robbery and aggravated assault. Why are you out?" She smiled. "Alleged now. Judge threw the case out." She cocked her head towards him. "Tainted evidence," she teased. "Why are you here, Adamantine? Brad's eyes went wide at the revelation of her full name. There were gasps in the crowd as the supervillain was recognized. She batted her eyes at him. "Looking for love! You can relax, Bullwhip. I've turned a new leaf." She sipped her drink again. "I want something different in life now. Thinking of settling down." She squinted at him and eyed his body. " If I can find the right man." "I seriously doubt that," he reverberated. "Is that why you followed me here? Hmm. Too bad. For a moment I thought I found what I was looking for." She was not looking at Brad when she said this. Bullwhip leaned in close towards her. "I know why you are here," he informed her in absolute confidence. "And he is off limits. He is under our protection." She pouted. "Tsk-tsk-tsk. For a Guardian of Justice, you aren't giving me much. And if I think I know who you are talking about, I like my men a bit more mature." She swallowed her drink. "Now be a good boy, and refill my drink," she said coyly. A couple people in the room snickered at that comment, only to be slapped and shut up by their more sensible neighbors. Bullwhip said nothing and simply ignored the responses. He stared at her, and she lifted an eyebrow. She crossed her legs, revealing her toned calves and strong thighs, and she smiled wickedly. Bullwhip nodded to her. "You want a cherry with that?" Adamantine's smile vanished and her eyes narrowed in fury. She shut up. "I'm watching you, Adamantine. You're in MY town now, and when you step out of line, I'm coming down on you, hard." Adamantine was silent, and Bullwhip turned and walked out of the club. She fumed and clutched her glass, squeezing it as she watched the superhero walk out on her. The glass shattered in her hand. Brad took off. ------- It was early in the morning, still before sunrise, and Joey Harper shifted in his sleep. He lay naked in bed, nestled between two beautiful women. Tricia Sanchez, a caramel-colored, twenty-five year old buxom Hispanic woman with a mane of wild fiery reddish-brown hair and a talent for time-travel curled up on his left side and stroked his chest in her sleep. And on his other side, Annie Freidman, a twenty-three year old Jewish-Japanese paraplegic with a 165 I.Q. cuddled up to him. Both were his girlfriends, his lovers, his roommates, and his guardians. Their soft and warm bodies comforted him in his sleep as much as they excited him in his waking hours. The boy, fourteen now, lived in what could be considered a well-deserved luxury. Three months earlier he was homeless and orphaned. Now he had a foster mother (Tricia), a live-in teacher (Annie), an active if inappropriate sex life with both of them, and he could now count several famous superheroes as close personal friends. One, closer than others. Money and fame had found them. Offers for public appearances, photo shoots, interviews, and endorsements had rolled in. Rumors and accusations came in hand as well, and Tricia and Annie did their best to shelter the boy. But at this moment, things were simple and blissful. Naked skin pressed against naked skin. Hands caressed. Soft, sexy bodies warmed him and surrounded him, protecting him, comforting him, cherishing him. There was really no reason for the nightmares to continue. "You're doing it, Joey!" Annie said encouragingly. "It's working!" Joey held his hands out to the young woman. His fingers stretched and he strained and grimaced, pushing the power. Omegaplasm flowed from his hands, sending a shower of bright white and yellow sparks out of his palms. Annie floated before him, radiating, glowing with power. Her long black hair flowed up and about her as if she were underwater. Her hands reached out to his. They were not touching. They were separated by a fraction of an inch. They were in a laboratory. Technarch, a New York based superhero clad in silver and purple accented power armor, stood by watching in awe. Cameras and sensors were trained on the boy. Computers analyzed the images and data. "Astounding," said the superhero. "I knew this was possible." "I can't believe it!" Joey said, straining. He could feel the Omegaplasm slipping in and out of Annie's body, sometimes grabbing on, sometimes sliding out. He grimaced and pushed. "It's hard to ... hard to keep it up!" Two other superheroes stood in the back of the room, watching with interest. "I swear, if I had a dime for every time a guy said that to me..." quipped Shadow Fire, a woman clad in black and red bodysuit and cape. Her companion smirked. "So like, I've never had that problem, fer sure." said Spectra. She was the light to Shadow Fire's darkness. Decked out in a rainbow colored bodysuit and spectral-streaked hair, she glimmered and sparkled as she hovered next to her friend. "You must be like, doing something wrong. Totally." "You must not be doing it enough." "Quiet, you two," barked the armored hero. "We're working here." Spectra eyed the young man and licked her lips. "So, let me know when it's, like, playtime." Joey heard the comment from the chromatic heroine. His eyes glanced over her curvaceous form. She had changed her costume after he first met her. This one showed much more cleavage, and much more bare leg. He wondered if she wanted him, and she gave him a wink as if reading his thoughts. Spectra shifted her position, casually lifting one leg up, revealing her clothed crotch. The power slipped out of Annie, and she dropped to the floor. Annie screamed in pain as she collapsed, and he rushed up to her. "I'm sorry Annie!" "You dropped me! Don't do that! That hurt." "I'm sorry!" Joey twitched in his sleep. He clutched Annie, pulling her closer. Sparks flashed from his hands. Technarch strode up to him. "It's obvious that your powers work at range. You know what this means." Joey looked up at the hero in terror. "No. Don't. Don't say it." If he said it, the nightmare would start again. "Please don't say it." "You could have saved your father." His head thrashed on his pillow. He grimaced and whimpered in his sleep. He tried to stop the images, but they came flooding back. Time, space, and identity had changed. He was eight years old again, wearing the Omega Boy costume, and was outside the Bank of America. An impenetrable crowd of policemen surrounded him. And he could hear the screaming from inside already. "No! Dad!" A blazing figure ran out of the bank, smashing through the glass door. "JOOEEYY!" it screamed, and dropped to its knees. Terror and panic pulled him. He screamed and reached for the burning figure. Rough strong hands pulled him back. "STAY BACK!" "LET GO OF ME!" "HELP ME!" He pushed and clawed, fighting the rough policemen. His costume tore, and he managed to escape their grasp. He dove through the bodies, running to his father, but stopped when he saw the armored figure in front of him. It was Technarch."You can save him," he said impassively."Unless you WANT him dead." Joey hesitated. "Um ... no. I don't." "Really?" The hero stepped aside. "Then prove it. Save him." Joey focused his eyes on the distant, burning, struggling body, reached out his hands, and pushed. He strained. Power flashed in his hands. The hero watched. "It will work if you want him alive." He screamed in anguish, but the power fluctuated and fell. His father fell forward. "DAD!" Tricia dropped next to him, pulling his arm. "Come! Joey! Come with me!" "NO!" he screamed. He reached out for his father as his new mother pulled him back. His father's body quivered. Lightning rippled over his body, and sparks erupted on his back. "JOEY! NOW! COME WITH ME!" Tricia yanked on his arm. His father detonated. A massive energy wave exploded out of his body, vaporizing him. The shockwave enveloped the young boy, lifting him off his feet and hurling him and everyone around him backwards. He landed in a tangle of bodies. Joey pushed himself up and saw the massive fireball lift into the sky. A groan next to him caught his attention, and he saw a woman in a blue gown lying near him, pulling herself up. She brushed her long wavy red hair out of her eyes and watched Joey with interest. The fire raged, and then it screamed. Joey turned and saw a dark but familiar figure emerge from the fire. Red skin, black hair. Wings. His heart froze. Desdemona confidently strode out of the wall of flame and flicked her wrist. A long burning whip rolled out of her hand. "Joey? I'm back for you." Tricia gasped next to him. She grabbed him. "Come on, Joey! We need to go! NOW!" Joey jumped to his feet and ran, holding Tricia's hand in his. He heard the demon roar behind him, and lift into the air. "RUN!" Tricia screamed, and she ran beside him. They hurdled down the streets together, past the crowds, and into the alleyways. They jumped over boxes, trash cans, and homeless, past rats and stray cats. The howling and roaring followed them, echoing in the maze of brick walls. They emerged into the courtyard at Freedom Plaza. As they sprinted across the courtyard, Tricia suddenly screamed and was pulled up out of his grasp. Joey stopped and turned. His body turned cold as he saw Desdemona holding Tricia at arms length by the neck. She raised her claws. "No..." he whispered. "Not again." Technarch was standing next to him again. "You can save her, assuming she deserves it." Joey didn't take his eyes off her. He raised his hand. Power flooded his palm and spilled out. Omegaplasm built and reached out, spraying uselessly. He strained and pushed. "I ... CAN'T ... REACH..." "You can reach her if you want her." Joey's hand clutched on Tricia's side and he pulled her in closer to him. Sparks erupted from his hands, and her skin started to glisten. He twisted in bed. He stretched his hand outward, clawing the air. Power spilled from his hand and dropped to the ground. He could see Tricia struggling and fighting Dedemona's grip, but she couldn't break free. "STOP IT!" he screamed. "You will pay for attacking me, bitch." Desdemona spat at his love, and she slashed down at the helpless girl. Tricia's body spasmed and quivered, and then fell limp. "NOOOO!!!" She dropped her lifeless body. Tricia landed in a crumpled heap. The blood pooled out around her, and Desdemona landed, splashing into the fresh puddle of her spilled life. The demon grinned and licked her claws, and then pointed towards him. "She's next," she hissed. Joey noticed Annie sitting next to him in her chair. "Joey! Let's fly!" she said, and she reached for him. He took her hand, and flooded her with power. She pulled him into the sky. Power sparked from his hand as he held on to her. Annie's hair lifted, and her body shifted upward slightly, held back only by the weight of the blanket. He grunted and grimaced in his sleep. They rocketed up past the tallest buildings and into the clouds. Their hands clasped tightly to each other, and were wrapped in a Velcro tether. "I'll keep you safe," she promised as the wind whipped through her hair. "As long as we're together, we're safe!" Joey heard the wretched screaming coming from underneath them, and he saw the black wings flapping closer and closer. Desdemona screeched at them, and her fire whip lashed out, closing the distance between them. The whip lashed at the tether between their hands, and ripped it to shreds. Their hands broke apart, and Annie screamed as they started plummeting down to Earth. Desdemona caught him by the shirt, and dangled him helplessly, letting him watch the falling and screaming girl. "Save her if you want." Desdemona challenged. "Unless you think you can do better." For a third time, Joey reached out desperately and summoned the power. Sparks flowed from his hands, but it was useless. Annie fell and fell, disappearing into the dark clouds. He thrashed between the girls. Desdemona dragged him through the sky, back to Earth, and landed in a funeral home. She threw him into a chair. Four large caskets lay at the front of the room. The demon stalked the room smugly, grinning at the caskets. "You know, my offer still stands," she said and she dragged her fingers over a casket, scratching deep grooves into the wood with her claw. "If you're ever interested in someone you can't kill, I'm still available." Joey shook in his chair, watching the demon. She climbed up on top of Tricia's coffin and reclined on the lid, leaning back on one arm and lifting one leg up high, exposing herself. She reached down and touched herself. Smoke wisped up from her sex. "And believe me. I am the hottest fuck you will ever have." A soft scoff sounded from the back of the room. Joey turned back and saw the redhead in the blue gown again. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. Desdemona continued. "You can still have me. All you have to do is to summon me again. And I'll even give you the spell. You'll just need to sacrifice someone very powerful." She fingered Tricia's coffin. "A Cosmic perhaps. It's not like you can save her." Joey looked down at the floor. "I can save her. I can save them all." "But are you sure you want to save them? They just want to use you, that's all they want." He shook his head. "No. You're wrong. You're the one who wants to use me." The redhead from the back of the room casually walked forward. "I've seen enough," she declared, and she approached the demon. Desdemona didn't even notice the woman; she just vanished as the redhead touched her. Joey looked up and considered the woman. She stared back at him. Her voice was compassionate. "Such pain. Such sorrow. Such guilt. You need something. What is it?" He thought. "I need to be able to use my powers at a distance." "I see. Why?" "Because then I'll be able to save them." "What will that accomplish?" Joey looked around at the coffins. "The nightmares will go away." She considered this. "Well, I might be able to help you with the issue of range, but do you really think this will stop the nightmares? That is not what you need." "What will stop them?" She shook her head. "Nothing will." He frowned at her. "You're wrong. I can save them." Joey's eyes snapped open and he took a moment to reestablish where he was and what was real. He noticed Annie floating gently next to him, about a foot over the bed, and he carefully pulled her back down and extracted the anti-gravity power. She whimpered softly in her sleep, and clutched his body. He caressed his girls, and noticed that Tricia's skin was hard, like marble. Her large breasts pushed into him painfully. He tried to pinch her skin, but it was like squeezing stone. He pulled the invulnerability out of her, and felt her body soften. His heart was still pounding violently in his chest, and he felt sweaty. He glanced at the clock. It read a quarter to six. He pulled both girls closer to him and drew strength and comfort from them. Their warm, full breasts squished up pleasurably against his body on both sides, and Tricia's leg moved up over his. He luxuriated in their touch, and willed himself to calm down. The dream was recurring, always following the same pattern, with few changes. It always started with the memories of the testing at the EarthGuard embassy in New York. A lot of that had actually happened. Technarch did test him. He did manage to get Annie to float without touching her. He did drop her. Spectra did flirt with him and change her costume to a sexier one after she met him. But Technarch wasn't so callous to tell him that he could save his father. No, that was Joey's own realization. And Desdemona still haunted him. He had talked to Snow Angel recently, asking her if she could come back. Snow Angel said no. She told him that he hadn't banished the demon, he had erased her. She was gone. The hero was quite certain that she could not be summoned again, because she simply didn't exist anymore. But Joey still wondered. The redhead was new. He didn't know who she was. He didn't recognize her. He wondered what she represented. She had said something about the dreams not going away, and that he needed something. He knew what he needed. He needed to master this new ability, to use his powers at a distance. Then he would be able to do something in his dreams. Save his father. Save them all. Maybe she was a sign that he was getting a handle on the nightmares. After all, this time he managed to get through it without waking the girls. He felt mixed about that. On the one hand, he was proud that he got though it without screaming in his sleep. It was always embarrassing when he did that. It always made him feel like such a coward. But on the other hand, when he did wake them, they were always very comforting to him. Extremely comforting. Joey lifted the blanket up a bit, looked down, and peeked at the girl's naked bodies. Their large breasts bulged out nicely as they pushed up against him, and he smiled. The sight always excited him, and he felt his penis stir with life. He felt a strong desire to pull the girls upward, slide down himself, and bury his head in their collective cleavage. This was usually what he got to do when he woke up screaming. They had a saying, the three of them. "Boobies make all the bad things go away." He admired their nipples and licked his lips hungrily. He thought about previous nights, nights when he woke up screaming and the girls caressed him and took care of him. It always started with kisses and cuddling and suckling, and then moved on to stroking and licking and fondling, and then eventually pounding and cumming. Sometimes they would slip into the old "Flux Capacitor" position and deliver a repeat message to someone in the past. That was an interesting aspect of the time travel; They could repeat the messages as much as they wanted. It didn't make any sense to him, and Tricia tried to explain it to him once. Something about "temporal density." It was something like there were more past Tricia's than present ones, so the ones in the present had to do double-duty and send multiple messages to the past, just to cover all the possibilities. It still didn't make any sense to him, but the bottom line was the three of them got to have a lot of sex at Tricia's insistence, and Joey wasn't going to complain about that. Well, now he had a full blown erection, and he didn't know what to do with it. The girls were still asleep, and he didn't want to wake them. But he desperately wanted one of them to play with his dick. He gently slipped the power back into their bodies. Omegaplasm flowed into their familiar forms and immediately swept up to their pleasure centers. He tickled them slightly, and the girls squirmed and moaned in their sleep. Annie clutched his chest, and squeezed her fingers into his flesh. "Lower..." he mentally suggested. He didn't actually have the power to push thoughts into them, but it wasn't the first time he had wished for it. He shifted his hips a bit, trying to push his erection up against Tricia's leg. It didn't work, but she did manage to wrap her leg around his. That felt nice. Joey squirmed and sighed in frustration. His dick was standing rigid, demanding attention, and he was getting hornier by the second, and these two gorgeous, naked, buxom angels were wrapped around his body, and neither one of them was touching his cock. They were sleeping, he was wide awake, and he wanted to just roll on top of one, either one, and slide inside her and start pounding. But that would involve waking them, and he just couldn't do that. He glanced down at their beautiful sleeping faces, and he watched them sleep peacefully. He lay there and luxuriated in their embrace. These two beautiful women, he loved them so much. They had taken him in, gave him a home, given him love. It was a truly a dream come true. He wondered for a moment if he were still dreaming right now. He felt something wet on his left shoulder. He glanced down and saw that Tricia was drooling on his arm. Again. "SKKKZZZNNKKZZ!" Annie snored loudly in his right ear, startling him. Okay, so it's not a dream. Reality did manage to intrude far too often. He pulled Annie, shifting her position, and she slipped back into silence. He wondered how long she would stay quiet, and he wasn't sure what to do with Tricia's head. He could just reposition her, but she would just drool in the new position. He decided it really didn't matter. Be it reality or fantasy, he would lay there and hold his girls, enjoying the simple pleasure of their presence, and enduring the constant dribbling and occasional turbulent snorting. At least he didn't have to worry about... "Whhiiinnnneee! ... RUFF!" There was scratching at the door. Oh no ... Not now. He could feel the girl's brains immediately shift patterns. They were awake, but they remained motionless, both pretending to be asleep. "RUFF! RUFF! Whine!" Joey blew out an exasperating breath and glanced at his girls. "Stop faking, you two." "Rmmmm ... not faking..." Tricia mumbled. " ... sleeping..." Annie murmured. " ... go take the dog out, Annie..." " ... fuck you..." Joey sighed. "I'll get him." "No!" Nooo..." Stay with us!" "Don't go!" The girls whined and clutched him and held him down, snuggling up to him. "He's going to pee on the floor again." Joey looked left and right, trying to find the best way to extract himself from the bed, and he planted his hand on the seat of Annie's delectable rump. He summoned a power, and pulled. Annie's now frictionless body easily slipped over his as he scooted past her. It was an odd sensation. It was all of the weight of having a young, stacked, naked girl rolling over his body, but none of the pleasure. Her long raven black hair slipped into his mouth, gagging him momentarily, and he coughed and spat as he pulled himself out of bed. The girls latched onto each other as he stood up, and his erection bounced freely. He stumbled past her chair, looked around, and found his underwear, shirt, and pants. As he opened the bedroom door, he looked down past his erection to see Scrappy jump back and excitedly stand on his hind legs, holding his leash in his mouth. "Down, boy," he said. The dog sat down obediently. Joey frowned at the dog. "Sorry bud. Wasn't talking to you." Scrappy cocked his head in confusion. Joey went into the bathroom, peed as best he could, got dressed in yesterday's clothes, and slipped his shoes over his bare feet. Then he came out, grabbed his jacket, keys, and a plastic bag, and led Scrappy out. The dog eagerly ran to the elevator. As they walked out the front door of their apartment building, Joey felt the cool chill of the late September morning air. He had a moment of concern about the coming cold weather which vanished when he reminded himself that he had someplace warm to live now. Scrappy eagerly pulled him towards a nearby tree and started sniffing it. A man in a car across the street took his picture. Joey groaned. "Good morning, Mr. Rakes," he said with a mild level of annoyance. "Hey, Joey!" the man exclaimed as he slimed out of his car. "What's the good news today?" "Nothing," he answered, not hiding his contempt. "Same as always. Could you please not take pictures of me when my dog is crapping?" Mr. Rakes took another picture, and pulled out a bag from his car. "Got you a donut! So, how are those girlfriends of yours doing?" "I keep telling you. They aren't my girlfriends. They are my guardians." "Have you accidentally seen them naked yet?" "No!" He said it annoyingly, but secretly realized it was true. He hadn't seen them naked accidentally. It was never an accident. "Will you stop asking me that?" "So how was New York? Heard you went to the EarthGuard embassy. Meet any superheroes there?" Only all of them, he thought. Joey didn't answer and dropped down to pick up Scrappy's droppings. "How long is it going to take you to realize I don't want to talk to you?" "Come on, Joey. Throw me a bone!" He stood up. "Nah. I've seen what dogs do to bones." "Well give me something." "Mr. Rakes, do you remember what happened the last time you asked me that when I was holding a bag of dog poop?" He stared at the photographer. "I ruined your shirt, and you took it to a lab and spent three hundred dollars to get the big story that I feed my dog Gaines-Burgers and Snausages, and that somebody in our house isn't eating her Brussel Sprouts. Now why don't you get a clue from all the other reporters who left, and leave me alone!" He pulled the leash. "Come on, Scrappy." The dog huffed at the photographer snidely and they trotted off towards the park. The photographer didn't follow him, and when they reached the park, Joey tossed the bag into a trashcan, spent a futile moment looking in the trash for anything good, and let Scrappy loose to run around. He picked up a stick and tossed it, and the dog went chasing after it madly. He was in a foul mood. He was horny, and had to take the dog out. And the photographer always pissed him off. He was out there every morning, asking the same questions, trying to break the story about his real relationship with the girls. It sucked. He had to keep the sex a secret. At least it wasn't as if the girls would go to jail if they were discovered. EarthGuard membership did have its advantages. What was the phrase they used? ... Something ... Immunity? Diplomatic! That was it. Apparently EarthGuard had some good lawyers, and because of "power requirements", or "developmental environment" or other weird terms, they could say he had to have sex with them. Which was great. If they ever got caught, at least legally the girls would be safe. But it would cause other problems. The foster care system could still use that to take him away from Tricia, and he didn't want to leave her. And then there was public opinion. All three of them were getting offers to do things, and that would disappear. Things were delicate enough at the moment with the rumors that started. For a few weeks they were the butt of every joke on late night shows, and they continued to be a subject on Fox News and talk radio. Rush Limbaugh made fun of Annie a lot, and it pissed him off. Joey like to fantasize about going down to Florida, going to the show pretending to do an interview with him, and then cramming his microphone down his throat and pulling it out the other side. No. Not really. No. It would be better to shove it up his ass and pull it out of his mouth. That way he could see the shit that comes out of his mouth. Yeah. That was a much better image. Scrappy came back with the stick and eagerly dropped it at his feet. The dog squatted and waited expectantly. The canine cheerfulness and optimism pushed all thoughts of Rush Limbaugh out of his head, and Joey picked up the stick and tossed it again. The dog tore off running after it. As he played with his dog, Joey noticed a young woman jog into the park. She was pretty, petite, fair skinned, with short blond hair, and was dressed in a light blue track suit and tight leotard tank top that was cut low, revealing curvy breasts and flawless skin that interested him immediately. She jogged up to the brand new picnic table, bouncing nicely in the process, and stretched one shapely leg on the table. She caught him looking at her and responded with an inviting smile. "Hi there!" she called out with a friendly voice. Scrappy, noticing a new person, and knowing instinctively that all new people were there for him, immediately ran towards the girl, eagerly sniffed her ankles, and jumped on her leg, wagging frantically. The woman giggled and reached down to pet the dog. "Oh! And who is this?" she asked cutely. Joey grinned and chuckled at the sight. Scrappy's cuteness was infectious, and served as an amazing ice-breaker. "That's Scrappy," he answered. "He's mine." The woman rubbed the dog's head vigorously, shaking her arms, shoulders, and breasts noticeably. "Well, aren't you a cutie-pie!" she said in a baby-talk voice to the dog. Joey enjoyed the sight of her boobs jiggling in her leotard tank-top, and he managed to pull his eyes off them before she looked up at him. "Are you new to this area?" "Um ... Yeah." He nodded. "I've been here about two months." She flashed him another friendly smile. "Well, welcome to the neighborhood." She stood up and held her hand out to him. "I'm Cindy. I'm the verger at St. Margaret's Episcopal." Joey hesitated. He had spent so long avoiding close contact with strangers that he didn't like shaking people's hands. But it was a habit he was trying to break, and this pretty young woman was being extra friendly to him. He took her hand and shook it. Omegaplasm flashed through her foreign body, briefly exploring her. She felt strange to him and very shut off, which was normal for a new person. "Hi. Joey," he responded. "So, do you go to Lincoln Middle?" He shook his head. "No. I go to ... a private school." "Really? Which one? Saint Augustine? Emerson Prep? Aidan Montisorri?" She grinned. "It's not the Myer's Institute, is it?" she asked jokingly. He hesitated and nodded. "That's it." "But isn't that the..." He nodded again. She considered him. "Joey..." Her face scrunched up as she examined him. "Are you ... Joey Harper?" Joey nodded resignedly. "Um, yeah." Her jaw dropped. "Omega B..." "No," he cut her off. "Well, yeah," he admitted. "But not any more." Cindy looked at Joey with some amazement. "I thought I heard you were in this area. Wow! A real superhero!" He shook his head. "No. I'm not a superhero. I'm just Joey." She bent her knee on the table, stretching her leg. "I don't know about that! I saw that video of that fight you were in. You took out Desdemona all by yourself. That sounds like a superhero to me." She stopped stretching and turned towards him. "That must have been scary. Was it?" Joey picked up Scrappy. "I really don't want to talk about it." "But she was like unstoppable, and she nearly killed you! Wasn't that..." "I said I don't want to talk about it," he said sternly. Cindy clapped her hand over her mouth. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said sincerely, and she bounced on her toes nervously. "I didn't mean to ... I bet you get that a lot, don't you?" Joey thought about it for a moment, and nodded. Cindy climbed up on the picnic table and sat on it, leaving plenty of room for him to sit next to her. "I really am sorry. I ... I don't know what your life is like, and I can't imagine it, but I guess it's pretty weird. I shouldn't have pried." He shrugged. "It's okay. You're curious." "I'm nosy." "No you're not." "Yes I am! Father Jacobs is always telling me to mind myself, to stop being so invasive." She waved her hands about as she babbled nervously. "I mean, he always says people will want to talk about themselves, and if they want to talk, they'll talk. But I don't have to go prying it out of them. So, I'm sorry." She looked genuinely sorry, and Joey felt sympathetic to her. "It's okay." He noticed from the way she was sitting that there was an open invitation for him to sit next to her. He took the invitation and sat on the table next to her. Scrappy eagerly stood in his lap and sniffed her, wagging excitedly. Cindy smiled and scratched the dog's head. "I'm just not used to ... I mean I've never talked to a ... you know ... So..." she said, fishing for a topic. "Ravens or Redskins?" Joey chuckled. Here was this pretty girl trying to not flirt with him, and she was failing miserably. Fame did have its good points. "I'm not really a big sports fan. You?" She giggled with him. "No." They continued scratching the dog's head, and Scrappy grunted in pleasure. "Can I ask you something?" he asked. She nodded. Joey got the impression that she was relieved that he was taking control of the conversation. "What is a ... what did you call it? A verger?" "Oh." She sounded oddly disappointed. "Yeah, um. I, assist in the services, set up the books and service pamphlets, help take care of the church ... you know ... Cleaning. Tidying. That kind of stuff." She sighed. "Not terribly exciting," she said almost apologetically. "Nothing like your life." Joey grinned. "Sounds nice." "Nah. It's boring." "Boring's good," he reassured her. "I could use some boring in my life." She smiled bashfully. Joey grinned, enjoying the fact he made her smile. "So how much does that pay?" Cindy burst out a bright laugh. "Not much. That's why I also work at Starbucks, and I do children's parties. I'm a clown." Joey's eyes lit up. "A clown?" She nodded, and lifted her arms up over her body, stretching. His eyes momentarily dropped down to the swellings of her breasts and the indentations of her nipples in her tank-top as she stretched. "Yeah. I do face-painting and can make balloon animals. I make a mean giraffe!" "That doesn't sound boring. That sounds fun!" Cindy smiled and nodded. "It is. You should try it." "What? Balloon animals?" "Kid's parties. I'd bet you would be a big hit at a kid's party." He considered the idea. "Well, I guess. I can draw. I can do caricatures." She frowned and squinted at him. "Really?" He nodded. "I didn't know that." She digested that. "Hmm ... that's neat! But, I was really thinking about how you can..." She held her fingers out in front of her and wiggled them. " ... you know, just, make people fly. The kids would love that." "Well, everyone would like that." Joey briefly imagined the scene and shook his head. "But it's not that simple ... And it's not that safe." Cindy thought about it. "I suppose you're right." She looked wistfully up into the early dawn sky and rocked slightly on her seat. She sighed. "But I bet it's fun. You know, sometimes I see people flying, and I wonder what it's like. To be that free. Like I've seen Bullwhip and Snow Angel, but recently there's been someone else who comes out at night." She pointed up to the sky. "Glowing." Joey blushed. "Oh, um ... that's me." She turned and gaped at him. "Really? That's you?" He nodded. "Well, me and Annie." At the mention of Annie, her face fell momentarily, and she looked away from him towards the ground. "Must be wonderful," she said. She rocked a bit more, and drew up some courage. "Is it?" He wasn't sure if she was talking about flying or his relationship with Annie. "Flying?" he asked. She nodded. "Yeah. To be able to fly." Joey shook his head. "I can't fly by myself. But I can make anyone else fly." Her face brightened slightly, and Joey noticed. He continued. "And as for what it's like, it all depends on the person doing the flying." He set Scrappy down on the table. "Like, with Tricia and Annie, I can make both of them fly, and they can carry me with them, but they are completely different. With Tricia, it's like a roller coaster. She just grabs me and we just ... WHOOSH! You know?" He gestured, throwing one hand into the air, She giggled. "It's like being strapped to the side of a rocket. And sometimes it hurts, and it feels like I've left a few body parts behind." Cindy laughed delightfully. He smiled. Joey liked her laugh, and was proud that he was able to brighten her up a bit. He continued. "But with Annie, when she flies, it's gentle and comfortable. It's like dancing for her, so it's, I don't know ... kind of like being in a ballet." She smiled as she watched him. Joey frowned, thinking about what he had just said. "Not that I've ever been in a ballet before," he amended. She burst into giggles again. "I wasn't accusing you." She gave him a curious smile. "So why are they so different?" "Well, different people are good at different things. Tricia is good at the real intense things, and Annie is good at complex things, and it comes out in how they fly." He studied her face. "So now it's like, whenever I meet someone new, I wonder what that person can do. It's like, every person's personality makes them good at something different." Cindy's eyes sparkled with interest, and she looked at him with a growing anticipation. "Every person?" Joey nodded. "Yeah. It's like, I see someone, and I wonder, what are her secrets? What would she be good at?" She had a moment of very cute bashfulness, and she looked back up at him again. "So how do you find out? Do you need to like, go out on a couple dates or something?" He chuckled. "No. I just need to ... touch her." She got very quiet, and leaned in a couple degrees towards him. "Just ... touch?" she whispered. He nodded. "Yeah." She leaned in closer, and he could tell it was definitely an invitation. He lifted one hand up to her pretty face, and she shuddered with a small, frightened, sharp intake of breath. But she stayed, leaning towards him. "I just need to..." "Yes," she whispered, and she closed her eyes as his fingers approached her cheek. "Touch," he said, and his fingers delicately caressed the line of her jaw. Cindy shuddered again. He could feel her shaking in nervousness, and he traced the edge of her jaw up to her cheekbones, his fingers gently sliding over her soft, smooth skin. Omegaplasm flowed into her body, probing, exploring. She gasped. "I feel ... What is that?" Joey cupped her cheek with his palm. "That's the power. Let it inside you. Open up to it. Let it explore you, discover you." He gently turned her head towards him. She was so pretty, so young. Joey watched the highlights in her golden hair shift as he turned her head in early morning sunlight. Her breathing came in shakes and tremors, and he moved his hand back down over her flushed cheeks. He ran his thumb over her ruby lips. Cindy quivered, and her lips parted. She gasped and concentrated on the pleasures of her body being filled with this loving energy. "Let yourself open up to it. Share yourself with it." (Trust me) "Let the power find you." As he held the girl's face in one hand, Joey lifted his other hand and carefully traced the edge of the fabric of her clothes. Feather-light touches followed the textures and curves, and he slipped his fingers downward, pushing inside. Cindy shivered, and her warm, wet tongue brushed up against his finger. He could feel her heart beating stronger in her chest, her breathing becoming more deep and rapid. She arched her back, pushing her breasts forward, and leaned into his hand. Her body trembled in response to his gentle invasion. "I can feel you now." He whispered. His other hand slipped down lower into the folds of her track suit. Soft fingertips slid over smoothness, hardness. "You would be good with sound." Her secrets discovered, Joey pinched gently and pulled. Cindy quivered under his touch as the Omegaplasm swirled patterns around her pleasure centers. "Not so much with silence or loudness ... but with ... recall." She moaned slightly as she rubbed her face into his hand. She gently sucked on his thumb, and traced circles over his thumbprint with the tip of her tongue. "But I see you've got a device that does that for you already!" he blurted out, and he snatched his hand away from her. Cindy's eyes snapped open, and she saw Joey was standing up and holding her brand new digital voice recorder which he had just extracted from her pocket. She blinked, realized that she had been discovered, let out a frustrating groan, and face-palmed in humiliation. He stood and examined the recorder. "Nice model," he said, as he stopped the recording and hit the Erase button. "Looks expensive. This must have put you back a bit." "Joey," she pleaded. "I can explain." "You can also lie." He reeled back and hurled the recorder. Cindy gasped in protest, and watched in futility as it landed with a soft splash in the pond. Joey turned to the girl and glared at her. "So you wanted an exclusive? Well tell this to your editor: For five years I evaded the best trackers and bounty hunters in the world. I know when someone is playing me." He attached the leash to Scrappy's collar and put the dog down on the ground. "Joey, I'm sorry." "You probably are. Doesn't matter. Now if your editor wants to send another cute girl out to seduce me, do me a favor." He started leading the dog out. "Tell him I don't like dumb blonds." And he marched out of the park. ------- "Mmmm ... Oh yes ... I like that." "Oh, you taste so good." "You're so good at this, Abby!" "It's like licking ice cream." Snow Angel lay naked in her bed with her current lover, who currently had her face buried between her legs. The superhero writhed and squirmed, and dug her fists into the pillows and blankets. She panted, groaned, and gasped. "So good ... So good..." Abby wiggled her tongue around the folds of her labia and then gently licked her clitoris. Snow Angel cooed and whimpered in surrender. "Do that swirly thing! I like that swirly thing." The alarm clock started buzzing noisily. Snow Angel groaned. "Oh! No-no-no-no! Not now! Be quiet you!" she blurted out, and pointed one finger at the clock. A stream of ice shot out and enveloped the alarm clock, muffling the sound. Abby extracted herself from Snow Angel's groin. "Oh, damn. Sorry. I gotta go." "No, no! Stay with me! Don't leave me! Please?" the superhero whined, and she tried to hook her legs around the woman's head. "I'm almost there." Abby crawled up the length of Snow Angel's emerald body, giggling. "Again? How many orgasms do you really need?" "If you give me three more, it'll make it an even dozen." The women kissed passionately, and Abby pulled herself from Snow Angel's grasp. "I really have to get going." Snow Angel grumbled and rolled in the blankets. "I always hate this part." Abby chuckled and started getting dressed. The superhero groaned and reached out. A robe flew from a hook and landed in her hand, and she floated upward and wrapped the robe around her. "You've got to show me how to do that sometime." Abby said, picking up her bra. Snow Angel scrunched her nose at her lover. "There are other things I'd much rather show you." She grinned and cocked her head. "Please stay. Can I make you some breakfast? I make an awful oatmeal!" Abby laughed. "How can you screw up oatmeal?" She shrugged. "I've never been that good at cooking. I have a hard time keeping food warm." She thought back. "When I was a kid, I used to make ice cream by hand. I should try that again." Abby smiled and continued to get dressed. "Can I at least make you some coffee?" "Coffee from an angel? That would be heavenly!" Snow Angel giggled and zipped out of the bedroom and into her kitchen. She floated before her new coffee maker machine and stared at it, flexing her fingers a few times, trying to remember what to do with it. It was one of those new single-serving machines that was supposed to be so easy an absolute idiot would be able to make coffee with it, and she bit her lip as she studied the device. "Pull this part open..." She pulled the handle, and the machine opened up, revealing a small cup. She remembered the cup! That was good. "Now ... put the coffee in here..." She picked up a small plastic canister and placed it in the cup. "Don't open it again ... now, close..." She closed the machine. "Aaaaaannnnd ... Button!" She pressed the button. The machine started to gurgle, and she squealed in happiness and excitement as she saw that she had managed to get the coffee maker to work. She spun around in place, kicking up a flurry of snowflakes and clapping her hands. She stopped as she felt a little dizzy. The machine hissed, and a stream of coffee started to pour out and fall into the reservoir. "AAACK! CUP!" She panicked and quickly grabbed a coffee mug and held it under the stream of coffee. Hot coffee poured into the cup, and filled it about halfway. She pulled the cup out and looked inside it, frowning. "Half a cup ... Idiot proof machine ... Does that make me only half an idiot?" She sniffed the coffee, and the aroma made her stomach turn slightly. "Hmm. Maybe I need a different brand." She shrugged and carried it to her lover. Abby was now fully dressed and was putting on her earrings. Snow Angel handed her the cup. "Does this smell okay to you? I can take you to Starbucks if it's not good." She took the cup and smelled it. "Oh, that smells wonderful. Thank you!" She carefully sipped the coffee, and her eyebrows shifted in odd patterns as she discovered how cold the coffee had become on its short trip from the kitchen. "It's delicious. AND, the perfect temperature!" Snow Angel beamed with pride, and she rubbed her stomach absently. "Can I see you again tonight?" Abby thought for a moment. "I hope so. I think I'm free. We'll see. I'll give you a call." "I really wish you didn't have to leave." "Sorry. I've got bills to pay. I gotta go." As Abby left the bedroom and fetched her purse, Snow Angel drifted behind her, watching her wistfully. She pouted and grimaced slightly. Abby noticed. "Are you okay?" "I'm going to miss you." Abby frowned. "You're looking a little green." She grinned. "I'm always green." "Greener than normal." She shrugged. "I was just thinking I don't like that coffee flavor. I prefer you." She licked her lips and ran her eyes over her lover's curves. Abby smiled. "I'll see you tonight, lover." "I don't want to wait." They kissed each other one last time, and Abby opened the door. Snow Angel hovered and waved to her, smiling and watching her leave. Abby closed the door behind her. She hung there in the foyer, staring at the door, smiling and holding her tummy. Her smile slowly faded as her stomach twisted. Her eyes widened. She paused for just a second. WHOOSH! She streaked through the bedroom, leaving a trail of snowflakes behind her, into the bathroom, and flipped open the toilet. HHUUURRRLLLL!!! The green superhero vomited profusely into the toilet, gagging and lurching, and finally spitting to clear her mouth. When the last of the convulsions ended, she leaned her head against the warm porcelain bowl, and screwed her eyes shut in frustration. "No! No! No! No! NO!" she demanded. "Not again!" Dizzy and panting, she rolled over to her sink cabinet and pulled out a bulk box of pregnancy tests, ripped open a box, and extracted the unit. This was one technology she knew how to use, and she flushed the toilet, clearing it of the vomit. She took off her robe and sat down, holding the stick between her legs. "Please, no," she pleaded to herself, and she waited. Tears fell from her eyes, freezing on her face, and she broke them off. Eventually her body responded to the opportunity, and she felt the cool stream pouring as she released. The test stick now soaked, she stood and flushed the toilet, and then pulled out the heating pad from the under the sink. She plugged it in, wrapped the stick in the pad, and turned the pad on. Then she set the timer and sat back on the edge of the bathtub and waited. Minutes ticked by. "It can't be. It can't be," she muttered to herself. "I haven't had sex with a man in..." She thought back. "Eighteen months?" She shook her head. "Please just let it be bad coffee. I'm sorry Abby, but please, get sick!" She rocked on the bathtub edge, shivering in fright. "Please..." The timer rang. She swallowed and floated up to the heating pad. She carefully opened it up, and saw the indicator on the stick. Positive. "SHIT! FUCK!" she screamed. She stared at herself in the mirror, and ran her hands over her developing curves. "GOD DAMN IT! I almost made it to sixteen again! GOD! ... SHITTING! ... MOTHER FUCKER!" She ran her hands over her modest breasts. "And they were coming in so nicely this time! AAAGGHHH!" She swooped out of the bathroom, through the bedroom, and into her living room, screaming, crying, and she hurled a few ice bolts around in fury, smashing vases and freezing flowers. "GAAAA!!!" she screamed. "Not again! NOT AGAIN!" She floated in silence, huffing and puffing in anger and frustration, and her face softened in confusion. "How did this happen?" She shook her head in realization. "I haven't had sex with a man in so long! How did..." She blinked and looked at her ward. The green crystal hung next to the wall and spun lazily. She swooped up to it. "YOU! Talk to me!" "Your command is my duty," a small voice replied. Snow Angel clenched her fists, and tried to relax them. "Did I ... recently ... come home, drunk or something?" "No, mistress." "Did I bring a man home?" "No, mistress." "How many men have been in here in the past ... two months?" "Three, mistress. Your landlord, and two delivery men." Snow Angel blinked. "Did they drug me or something? Did I have sex with them?" "No, mistress." She groaned, and floated towards the window. The curtains opened, revealing the dark morning sky of the west, the Potomac river, and Roosevelt Island. She rubbed her face in frustration. "I don't want to do this again. I want to grow up. God, damn it!" She shook in silent crying, and then she opened her eyes wide. "I don't know who did this. I don't know his name!" She spun and stared at the ward. "I DON'T KNOW HIS NAME!" she screamed. "If I don't know his name, the sympathies backfire to me! Contagions disbalance! The associations reidentify! I'm going to be ... twelve years old again! I don't want to be that young again!" The ward hung in silence, spinning slowly. She looked back out over the Potomac river again. "I need to know his name. I need to find out who did this to me. I have to scour the city. Check every man I've ever had a relationship with." She snapped her fingers a couple times, and her superhero suit shimmered over her naked body. She paused and thought some more. The patio door opened for her. A slight grin crept up on her face. She shifted her hips slightly and cocked her head. "Can't get any MORE pregnant!" She swooped into the morning sky. Moments later, her cell phone, still sitting on her coffee table, started to ring. It was the emergency alarm. ------- Chapter 2: Math and Morning Routines VRAAAMMM! "Whoa! Jesus Christ!" "Good morning officer. What's the situation?" The police officer took a moment to compose himself, still startled from the superhero's sudden appearance. Quantum Knight crouched on top of the police car, poised and ready for action. "Um ... Thanks for coming. From what we're hearing, this is more along your lines." He pointed to the building across the street. "We have a hostage situation in there. Two people have gotten out. Don't know how many are still inside." "How many perps are we talking about?" "Just one, but they say he's heavily armed. He's not negotiating." He nodded towards a couple civilians surrounded by a few policemen. "We don't know who he is yet, but we have some people who might be able to ID him." "What kind of guns does he have?" The policeman shook his head. "Not guns. Arms. And apparently a tail." Quantum Knight stared at the policeman for a moment, and jumped off the car. As she strode towards the civilians, she summoned a tablet computer. "Pull your men back, and call for sniper support." She opened a database of images, and approached the two women who were being cared for by the police. The women were shaking and terrified, and stared at the hero with trepidation. "Good morning. I'm Quantum Knight. I understand you've had a scare." The women nodded. "You're safe now. Can you tell me what happened?" One of the women shook her head. "I don't know what happened. All I know is that there was suddenly a lot of screaming, and this ... thing ... He was throwing people and things around. And there were explosions." "Lightning" added the other woman. "I saw lightning." A stream of bodies in blue and purple appeared and vanished, leaving one behind. It was Multiplex. He nodded to Quantum Knight and waited. Quantum Knight glanced at the multiple man and turned her attention back to the witnesses. "What did he look like?" The woman shuddered. "It was some monster. He had these huge ... arms, or wings or something." The other woman added "Like a robot." Quantum Knight nodded and selected an image on her computer. She turned it to the women. "Did he look like this?" They nodded. "Yeah. That's him." The hero turned the image to Multiplex. She allowed herself a sigh. Multiplex nodded. The computer vanished back to The Singularity. "It's Armory. Come on." she said to her partner. She turned back to the women. "You were lucky to get out alive." As the two heroes marched back, Quantum Knight barked orders to the police. "Set up a perimeter! I want snipers and a chase helicopter. He tends to run pretty fast when he takes off. Get the people out of the neighboring buildings. I don't know what he's planning, but it's usually destructive. I'll take him out, and 'Plex will get the hostages out." As the two heroes passed the police line and approached the building, Quantum Knight studied the mirrored windows of the structure. Mulitplex started speaking. "I Armory's Could am M.O. he researching is be him testing studying now.superheroes. Joseph? He Electrical Perhaps may fields we be interfere should interested with take in my advantage me. powers. of..." "Do you know what I really want to know right now?" Quantum Knight interrupted his overlapping streams. They stopped in the middle of the street. "Why the hell aren't you returning my phone calls?" Multiplex blinked at her. "Can we talk about this later?" "No! I threw myself at you, and so far this is the first time I've seen you so much as blink. It's not like you're too busy! You have an infinite number of bodies. Surely you can spare one to give me a call." "This is not the time to talk about this." "Then when is? Look, you may have all the time and opportunities in the world, but me, I'm limited. I've only got one body, one life. I have to make choices. If you're interested, let me know! And if you're not, LET ME KNOW!" "We have hostages to rescue." Quantum Knight poked Multiplex in the chest. "They're not the only ones being held hostage right now." She turned and stormed towards the office building. "Glad I've got a supervillain to deal with," she muttered under her breath. "Could kill someone right now." A katana appeared in her hand, and she teleported inside past the glass doors into the foyer. Multiplex jogged up and followed her inside the building. The foyer was a total disaster, with destroyed desks, splintered wood, scattered papers, and piles of dirt from overturned plants strewn about chaotically. The walls were scorched and torn. Quantum Knight stretched her senses, and glanced at the security cameras. "He's probably linked into the security system already, and knows that we're here. Reconnaissance!" Multiplex nodded and zipped off in a stream of bodies, leaving one behind. Quantum Knight waited. "Ground floor is clean." He reported. "But we have a problem. There are four stairwells, and he's seriously damaged each one." "He completely destroyed the stairwells?" Multiplex concentrated. "Not completely. Some sections are still good, but..." He started pointing in different directions. "North-east first to second is good. South-west second to third good. North-west third to fourth good..." "Damn. Most likely the elevators are shot or booby-trapped. He's made a gauntlet. An obstacle course. He's going to force the hostages to run the length of the building floors, wasting time trying to find stairs between floors." She ran to the North-East stairwell. "And this building has mirrored windows. I can't teleport in from above." She pushed opened the door. Torn steel, tiles, and concrete littered the surviving stairs. She could see above them several stories of destroyed stairs; large ripped sections hanging precariously from the walls, dripping with dust, and threatening to fall at any moment. She looked past all the debris to the top floor, and picked a spot. "Can you get up there?" she asked Multiplex. "Easily." VRAAMM! Quantum Knight appeared at the top of the stairwell, and held on to the torn handrail that was still attached to the wall, and used it to cling to the wall. Below her, Multiplex made several "jumps", summoning clones above him and dispelling them beneath him. The clones jumped from broken platforms to intact handrails, until he reached her. She kicked the door open, and Multiplex sent a swarm of clones running inside. She jumped in after, protected by the wall of bodies. The upper floor was unfurnished, and mostly empty, and as she tumbled and spun, Quantum Knight took stock of the situation. Towards the middle of the floor were a crowd of roughly thirty civilians, sitting on the floor, terrified. Cameras and sensors were scattered about the room, each connected to a floating object, a drone robot, at least a dozen of them. A giggling, cackling laugh echoed in the room, and Armory stepped out from behind a pillar. "Quantum Knight! And Multiplex! Didn't I luck out!" he chuckled. He was a massive figure of what used to be a man. Over seven feet tall, he was covered and embedded with mechanical parts, electronics, armored plates, gears, hydraulics, and power cables. Scarred flesh appeared in breaks between pieces, and one eye glowed green with an internal L.E.D. From his back protruded three extra appendages; two massive multi-function mechanical arms which poised for combat like two scorpion claws, and a single long silver prehensile tail capped with an energy emitter and spikes. Electrical arcs rippled over the tail. The cyborg slumped forward, taking heavy steps as he walked, burdened with all the extra weight of his armor and weaponry. Quantum Knight recognized the walk as a ruse. She knew he was fast, superhumanly fast, and strong enough to give Bullwhip a run for his money. "Let them go, Armory! They're not the ones you want, and we both know that," Quantum Knight ordered. He laughed mirthfully, and twin blades extended from his wing-arms. "And you think you know what it is I want?" She summoned her battle staff and tossed it to Multiplex. Then she pulled her second katana and crouched. "It doesn't matter what you want. You're not getting it." Armory crouched down as well. His tail lashed out, sparkling with energy, and his wing-arms clawed huge rips in the floor. "Then I'll take something else!" He roared and leaped towards her, blades slashing and fresh claws extending from his hands. He was on her in seconds, hurling himself at an astounding speed. But Quantum Knight was faster, and she actually teleported into the midst of his arms and blades for a fraction of a second, kicking him in the face, and then tunneling above him for a second attack. The tail whipped towards her, and she back flipped past it, dodging electrical arcs and whirling blades. Armory laughed gleefully as he swiped enormous jagged blades towards her. She caught them with her katana and teleported around him again, slicing and goading the superhero away from the civilians. Multiplex ran in a dozen directions, mostly towards the civilians, but some ran towards the various drones. Each drone was buzzing and hovering, each emitting its own unique tone, and electrical arcs rippled over them. The drones all collectively reacted to the sudden attacking, and they started moving towards the center, towards the civilians. Multiplex surrounded them with bodies, leaving an opening towards the nearest stairwell that was still intact at this level. "THIS WAY! GO!" he shouted in several voices. The drones attacked, emitting bolts of electricity. Mutliplex screamed in pain as some of his bodies were hit by the arcs of lightning, and they fell. He sent a new wave of clones out, but as soon as he came close to one his powers faltered. The electrical fields interfered, and the dark matter wouldn't hold the patterns. The one clone with Quantum Knight's battle-staff yelled and swung it at a drone, smashing it in one shot, while other clones started herding the people out towards the stairs. The drones spread out, each targeting a different Multiplex clone, and fired blasts of lightning at the bodies. Mutiplex managed to smash another drone with the battle-staff, but a third drone took that body out by hitting the large steel rod with a bolt of lightning. Clones grabbed various objects in the room: tables, chairs, and wooden beams, and smashed the drones while others herded the civilians down to the floor below. Armory was screaming and laughing maniacally as he pounced and fought Quantum Knight. She teleported, ducked, weaved, and managed to stab him a couple times, but nowhere fatal, and it only seemed to encourage or entertain him. "You're slipping, girl!" he goaded her as he ripped up a huge section of the floor and sent it flying towards her. "I was expecting a challenge, not a dance!" Quantum Knight dodged the flying section of floor easily and teleported behind him, crouched tight. She kicked him with both feet, throwing him into the hole he just made. "I'm not here to entertain you," she said, flipping and landing. "And I know why you're in town! You're not getting close to him. He's under our protection." She spun and saw that Multiplex had managed to take out all the drones on this level, and the last of the civilians had made it to the stairwell. Now that they were out of the way, she could cut loose. She spun her swords and dove on the villain. Armory shrieked and jumped, smacking her aside and stabbing at her. She teleported, evading the killing stroke by milliseconds. He spun, found her, and laughed. "What? You mean the Omega Boy?" He let out an insane giggle. "What makes you think I'm interested in him?" Quantum Knight's jaw dropped. He picked up a section of floor and hurled it towards a window, smashing it open. "I got everything I wanted, so I'll be leaving now. Multiplex, tell her the bad news." One of the Multiplex clones which had just managed to recover was shaking in pain. "Quantum! The gauntlet! He's..." Armory laughed crazily and cocked his head at Quantum Knight. "What? Did you think I kept all of my robots here on this floor? You better help your friends get out." And on that, the cyborg turned towards the smashed window and leaped out. Quantum Knight ran towards the window. "Plex! Get them back up here, and take out the..." "They starting fires!" Multiplex shouted. "GOD DAMN IT!" she shouted, and she teleported to the stairwell, flipped down a story, and jumped into a war zone. The furnished office space was dark, and there were constant flashes of lightning and small fires burning in different areas. People were running and screaming, and Multiplex clones were still herding the people to the next stairwell. She clutched her katana' and picked out the nearest drone robot. VRAMM! SLICE! SMASH! VRAMM! CRUNCH! VRAMM! SMASH! She teleported through the office, following the whining sounds of each drone robot and slicing them with her swords. It was a pattern that worked well, and she quickly cleared the floor of drones before moving down to the next floor down. On the next floor down, the drones seemed to be hiding, but she could hear the whining sounds coming from each one. It was odd; each one hummed at a different frequency. Some were high, and others were low. The humming had no bearing on the size or capability of the robot, and she didn't care what it was all about. All she knew was that she could find them, and once she found them, they were gone. The civilians followed carefully, being led by a team of Multiplex clones. Multiplex was putting out the fires above, and calmed and herded the civilians to safety as they worked their way down each floor of the building. As they reached the second floor, the last floor with drones, Quantum Knight stood and listened with Multiplex. "I hear one more," she said, listening to a deep thrumming. "Me too," he said, hearing a high-pitched whine. "Over there." She shook her head. "No." She teleported and attacked, taking out a drone that hid behind a cubicle wall. "Got him!" she said. "Let's get them..." "LOOK OUT!" Multiplex yelled. A blast of lightning hit Quantum Knight from behind, and she collapsed against the cubicle wall. Multiplex ran up, and smashed the final drone with the battle staff. He dropped the staff and reached for her. "Please! Are you all right? Speak to me!" "Ow!" she moaned. "That hurt. But I'm okay." Multiplex sighed in relief. "Those things..." he said as he helped her up. "They aren't that powerful. It's like they were only designed to cause some serious pain, but not kill. What do you suppose he was up to?" "Don't know. Let's just get these people out of here." Quantum Knight decided. As the two heroes limped out of the building leading a large group of grateful civilians out of harm's way and into the care of paramedics and firefighters, several blocks away and under the city streets a mad cyborg ran gleefully through the sewage system, jumping and dancing in joy, and shrieking "Nine percent! Nine percent!" ------- Joey was back in his foul mood again when he returned to the apartment. He let Scrappy off his leash and the dog immediately ran over to his cage and attacked and killed Tricia's Mephisto Nastasia designer walking sandal, happily shaking it about. The boy kicked off his shoes, plopped on the couch, grabbed a throw pillow, and sulked. It was bad enough that the stupid photographer was still out there, but now he was all pissed off over the way Cindy tried to manipulate him. He held onto the throw pillow and fumed. It was embarrassing. He actually liked her. She was sweet and nice, and the more he thought about her, the more he realized that she almost got to him. He wouldn't have fallen for her a couple years ago, but now that he liked girls, he felt he was slipping. One thing caught his attention, other than the fact that she was pretty and sexy and had nice tits, and it was the thing she said about how everyone wants to talk about themselves. He reflected on it, and realized it was true. He did want to talk. And he knew that he had to be careful about who he talked to and what he said now that he was famous for having super powers and now that he knew superheroes outside of their costumes. But that still didn't change the fact that he wanted to talk. Life was different. So much had changed in the past few weeks. And he wanted to tell... He squeezed his eyes shut and drew strength. He knew who he wanted to talk to. Joey reached over to his backpack and pulled out his brand new tablet computer. It was his birthday present, a state-of the art portable computer with triple-level encoding. It was a new issue to EarthGuard members, with extra protection to make it nearly impossible for a hacker to break into it. This meant that when he turned it on, he had to write in three pass-phrases to get it started. He pressed the power button, and heard the water turn on in Annie's bathroom. Annie was up, and would be out some time soon. He pulled out the stylus and got comfortable leaning back on the pillow. The computer prompted him. Pass phrase number one? He wrote the phrase "Give me strength." Tricia's favorite line. She had said that several times. So often she dreamed of being strong and powerful. He smiled as he remembered her saying that in the pizza parlor. That was the first time he had given her an ability. Pass phrase number two? "Artists erase mistakes." One of his favorite lines. He thought about how he said that to Desdemona. She was a demon, and it wouldn't have been a huge insult to her for anyone to call her a monster. But to just call her a mistake, reducing her to something so small and easily corrected, that was probably the worst insult anyone had ever given her. Pass phrase number three? "Take the stairs." He grinned, remembering Annie saying that in the hospital. She climbed stairs for the first time in eight years that day. He had originally tried to use her favorite phrase "Plagues of psoriasis", but could never remember how to spell that. The familiar desktop and icons appeared, and Joey clicked on an icon, creating a new document. The text editor opened, and he chewed his lip. He took a deep breath, and started to write. Dear Dad, I know you are never going to read this, but I like to think that you are reading it now. I want you to know that I am okay. I'm safe, and I'm being taken care of. There were times when I was angry with you, and times I didn't want to be a superhero, or for you to be one, but I never wanted you to die. I miss you, and I hope that if you are somewhere, you are happy. Joey was tearing already. He shuddered and continued writing. I'm still in DC. We didn't plan things out enough, and I got stuck here after. I found places to hide, and people to help me, and for a long time I lived on the streets. I stole from people, and from stores, and I still feel like stealing, but I know I shouldn't. I have friends now. I live with these two wonderful women. Their names are Patricia Maria Rosita Sanchez, and Annette Rachael Freidman, or just Tricia and Annie for short. (Tricia will drop the Rosita and call herself Patricia Maria Sanchez when she's angry at someone, because she likes those initials.) But they found out who I was, and they took me in. And every day I am thankful for them. I love them very much, and they love me. They bought me clothes and gave me a place to sleep, and they take care of me. And they helped me find out how my powers work. I can give them powers, and I'm getting better at it. Tricia is tall and she's Brazilian or Mexican or something, and she's very pretty and she has these really big boobs. And she's always singing and dancing and wearing sexy clothes. She used to be a TV reporter, but now she's a blogger and she makes videos about the homeless. She's trying to get people to help the homeless. She's also my new mom. Well, she's my foster mom. She was the one who found me. Annie is probably the weirdest girl I've ever met. She looks Japanese but she's Jewish and she's got this real strong New York accent. When I see her, I always expect her to be speaking in Japanese, but she then starts talking in Yiddish, and it always makes my brain flip upside-down. She's in a wheelchair because she can't move her legs, and she's really smart. She does computer stuff and runs two companies. One company, she's the only person in it, and the other one is the three of us. She's also really, really pretty. I think she's prettier than Tricia, but don't tell them that. I also have a dog. His name is Scrappy. Yeah. I named him after my teddy bear. I found him when I was homeless, and he's been with me for about a year now. He's a tiny, cute, Yorkshire Terrier and he likes chewing on shoes, which is what he is doing right now. Do you remember Desdemona? She was that woman with the wings and the fire, and she was attacking an orphanage? I remember when you fought her, you got so angry, and everyone thought you killed her. But she didn't die. She came back, and she found me. And she hurt me. Joey rubbed his chest as he wrote. He could feel the scar through his shirt. He could still recall the sensation of a claw gouging into his chest, breaking his rib and puncturing his lung and heart. I'm okay though. Tricia and all the superheroes here in DC saved me, and I got rid of her. I can do things with my powers I didn't know I could do, and I erased her. She's not coming back, but I still have dreams about her. Joey swallowed and continued writing. After the fight, Tricia and I stayed in the hospital for a while until we got better, and then later on we went on a trip. Tricia and Annie took me... He shuddered and teared up for a moment. ... took me back home, to Pennsylvania. They found our house, and there's another family living there now. We got to meet them. They're nice, but somebody sold all of our stuff, and our house looks so different now with all this new stuff in it. But it still felt like home. I got to see Sherrie again. She was really happy to see me. She misses you. She's doing okay. I think she wanted to marry you, but she's married to this lawyer now, and now she's going to have a baby. But it was good to see her again. We saw my old school, and then... Joey stopped. The tears flowed down his face as he remembered. He took a moment, and wiped his eyes. ... and then they bought a... He took a shaking breath and teared up again. ... bought a tombstone for you, and put it next to Mom's. He paused, remembering that day, sitting in the graveyard between his parent's tombstones. He wiped his eyes and nose on his sleeve and took a calming breath. He decided he wanted to write about something else. We then went up to New York. And we stayed with Annie's parents for a while. Joey smiled through his tears. Annie's parents. Oy vey! They are so much fun! When we got there, her mom immediately started making us eat, and she would not stop giving us food. I have never eaten so much in my life. Annie is normally very strong and tough, and I see where she gets it now, but when she was there it was like she became this little girl again. Her mom kept asking them questions like "Who are you dating?" "When are you going to get married?" "When am I going to have grandchildren?" That kind of stuff. She also kept pushing Tricia to call her dad, but I don't think Tricia wants to talk to her dad that much. I don't think she likes him. She never talks about him. Annie's father works with taxes or something, and the big tax deadline is April 15th, which is also Annie's birthday. So her mom had to tell me the story of how he missed her birthday once when she was five years old, and how Annie threw this huge tantrum and wouldn't talk to him for weeks, and he never missed her birthday again. And he was saying "Why do you always have to tell that? Can't a guy live that down?" He's got these really old computers, and games for them, and we played a lot of games. Her mom said that he was just a big kid, and she was glad I came over so he would have someone to play with. She said it like it was a joke, but I thought it made sense. But the main reason we went to New York was to go to the EarthGuard headquarters. We're good friends with Quantum Knight and Snow Angel, and I met a few superheroes when Tricia and I were in the hospital, but we got to meet a lot of the heroes in New York, which is like, THE big place for superheroes. I met Hyperion, Technarch, Olympian, Spectra, Portal, Shadow Fire, and Impedus. That place was built back in the fifties, and when you walk inside, there is this huge stairway that goes down into the main room, and when they were leading us down, Annie started yelling because she couldn't find a ramp. And they were all really embarrassed because they don't need ramps, because they are all superheroes, and Hyperion offered to make a ramp out of force-fields, but Annie yelled at him (or it) to stop it, and then pointed at Olympian. "You! With the muscles! Take off your shirt and pick me up!" And he did! But we got the tour, and I always expected that place to be this huge place with computers and robots and weird devices and all that stuff you see in the comic books, and they have some of that stuff, but it's mostly office workers. EarthGuard has to handle lots of financial stuff, because heroes need money and equipment. But they did have a laboratory which Technarch uses, and he tested my powers while we were there. He says I should be able to use my powers at range, and so that's what I'm practicing. I'm not very good at it. While they were testing me, Tricia and Impedus went out for a walk, and then they stopped walking and started doing other stuff. Tricia is a Cosmic now, and Cosmics all like each other, so one thing kind of led to another, and before she realized it they were having sex. And afterward I got like really angry at her, cause I thought this was like her sleeping with her boss again, and she promised me she wasn't going to do that anymore! But she said it wasn't like that. She wasn't trying to get any favors out of him or anything. It was just a thing that happened, because Cosmics really like each other. They just see each other, and they just want to do each other. (It must be like a really strong feeling, because whenever I see Tricia, I want to do her, and I'm not a Cosmic!) But she felt really bad about it later on, and she said she didn't do it to make me feel bad. And I believe her. I still feel a little weird about her sleeping with other people, but if I'm doing it, it's not fair for her if she can't do it. I think I really have to be open about sex now, because superheroes all tend to sleep with each other a lot. She more than made up for it later on. So now I'm back home in DC, and I'm in school. It's the Myers Institute for the Talented and Gifted, or Mutant School as we call it. Some kids like to call it Super Heroes In Training, but I don't like the initials that makes. I'm in a remedial class with six other kids. Sometimes having powers makes it difficult to do well in school, and sometimes some kids just have problems that have nothing to do with their powers. I'm not sure which of those I fit into. Joey sat and thought about what he wanted to write next, but he heard the door open and a moment later Annie rolled out. She was wearing an oversized T-shirt ("Science: It Works, Bitches") and she gave him a warm smile. "Good morning, bubbala," she said sweetly. "Good morning, Annie." He noticed the room was much brighter now. He knew it was because of the sun rising, but he caught himself wondering if it was because Annie was up. She eyed him and tilted her head, twirling one strand of hair around her finger. "What are you working on?" Joey shut off the computer. "Nothing. Handwriting." "Photographer still out there?" He nodded and sighed. "Yeah, and there was a new reporter too. A really cute girl. She pretended to be a neighbor. She was really friendly, but she was hiding a recorder." Annie cocked her head. "She tried charming you?" "Yeah." He dropped his head. She pouted. "Aww..." She glanced at his crotch for a fraction of a second. "You look frustrated." He nodded. "I am." "Anything I can do?" Joey looked up and saw her giving him The Look. It was a ravenous look. She licked her lips and inhaled deeply as she stared at him. His eyes dropped down to the swellings of her breasts, and then back up to her beautiful green eyes. He nodded. "Hungry?" she asked. "Yeah." He set his computer aside. "What would you like?" Joey leaned closer to her. "Something ... warm and ... Asian." Annie broke out into a huge smile, and giggled as he reached for her. The moment his hands touched hers, he flooded her with power and (Choose me) she floated out of her chair. She laughed and easily slipped onto his lap, wrapping her arms about his neck, and pulling him tight. It was a well practiced maneuver, and they immediately started kissing and hugging each other. Her warm eager tongue probed into his mouth as she held his face and stroked his cheeks, and his hands slipped up under her shirt and caressed her smooth back. He squeezed her tight against him, mashing her big breasts up against his chest. Annie mewed softly as they kissed, and she churned her head against his, and pulled his shirt up over his head. They resumed their kissing as she dropped his shirt on the floor. Joey was instantly rock hard for her, and he gently leaned her down on the couch. Annie squealed quietly as he laid her down and got up to adjust her legs. He quickly dropped his pants and underwear, and climbed on top of her, with his head close to her belly. He kissed the smooth skin of her quivering stomach, and Annie started breathing heavily as he moved his way upward, tasting the sweetness, rolling her shirt higher, and exposing more of her soft, golden skin as he kissed and nibbled higher. He could see the soft full curves of the undersides of her breasts, and he hooked his thumbs into her shirt and pushed it up to her armpits, exposing her full breasts to the morning air and sunshine. Annie gasped as he gently caressed her breasts, licking them from the bottom, and she shuddered and arched her back as he latched his mouth over one hard nipple. The soft warmth of her breast enveloped his face, which both soothed and excited him. The bedroom door opened, and Tricia emerged, groaning, yawning, stumbling, rubbing her eyes, smacking her lips, and scratching her butt-cheek. Her face was all splotchy and her hair was a mess, and she was wearing only a large T-shirt ("With a shirt like this, who needs pants?"). She blinked a few times as she noticed the erotic performance on their couch, shrugged, and slumped back into the bedroom. "Oy! Azoy ... Azoy..." Annie was quivering with pleasure as Joey suckled and played with her breasts, and he rubbed his hard cock up against her leg. He had flooded her body with Omegaplasm, and she glowed and sparkled as he adjusted her levels of friction, sliding her up further on the couch. She held his head tight to her breast and bit her knuckle as she strained and succumbed to the sensations. Joey overloaded her pleasure center with signals, and she shook, thrashed, and groaned as he swirled his tongue around her nipple and buried his face in between her warm breasts, licking deep into her cleavage and savoring the salty-sweet taste and womanly scent. Joey pulled back and started working on her underwear, pulling them down and over her thin, limp legs. She watched, panting, and with her eyes riveted on his hard cock. Once she was fully naked, he lay between her lifted legs and rubbed his erection against her opening. "Joey, are you..." she tried to ask, but Joey silenced her with a kiss, pushing his tongue into her mouth. Annie sucked hard on his tongue and kissed him back fiercely, wrapping her strong arms around his head. Joey started thrusting his groin against her, and she pulled back. "Joey, are you inside me?" she managed to ask. He shook his head. "No. I'm just outside you." He kissed her again. "I want to be inside you again, so bad." Tricia wandered back into the room, and Annie noticed her. "Trish! Can you get us a..." Tricia nonchalantly handed them an unwrapped condom, and yawned. "Thanks!" Joey got up on his knees and rolled the condom over his erection, and then fingered Annie's vagina. "Oh, can you also get us some..." Joey asked, and Tricia handed him the bottle of lubricant. Annie giggled and Joey chuckled as he took the bottle and used it to lube Annie's vaginal lips. As he slipped his fingers inside her, Tricia pulled up Annie's chair and sat in it. She lifted one long, luscious leg up over the wheel and exposed her naked crotch, got comfortable, and fingered herself as she watched Joey line up his cock to her roommate's pussy. "No, I don't mind. Go ahead," she said, grinning. Annie glanced over at Tricia, and gave her a confused look. She glanced at her crotch, and then her face. "Do you mind?" she asked annoyed. "And you're hiccuping again," she said as she turned her attention back to Joey. "No, I'm not," said Tricia as she watched Joey push himself inside Annie. He groaned in relief and fell on top of the girl, and started pumping his hard cock deep inside her with long, slow strokes. Annie gasped and writhed under him as he strobed her brainstem with electrical impulses. "Oh god, you feel so good!" Joey said, pushing his head down and running his teeth over Annie's neck. Annie shook under his assault, and squealed as he licked her flesh. "I could just fuck you all day long." "I'm fine with that." Annie breathed desperately. "I don't have any plans today. Oy! Oh yes..." Tricia watched her two roommates fucking, and squirmed in her seat, fingering herself. She licked her lips and ran her hand over one fat breast, squeezing her nipple, and nudged one foot over towards Joey's hand. "About what?" Tricia asked out of the blue. Annie gave Tricia a baffling look. She and Joey looked at each other for a moment, questioning each other silently, and came up with nothing. Annie turned back to Tricia. "You really need to give us a clue sometimes." Joey digested the last two statements, reversing them in his mind, and smiled. "Good one!" he kissed Annie. "You're so sexy when you're smart!" He resumed fucking her. Annie thought about it. "Oh, yes. I guess that did work." Tricia frowned. "I am doing it again, aren't I?" Annie nodded. "Yeah. Now shut up and let us fuck." Tricia giggled and watched as Joey held on to Annie's legs and plowed his cock inside her. She squirmed on her hips and slipped her fingers in between her labia and played with her clitoris as Joey increased his tempo, pounding Annie. The couch creaked loudly and rhythmically, and Tricia had a brief worry about the neighbors below hearing them, and silently thanked Snow Angel's protective ward for blocking sound as well as light. Joey fell on top of Annie and kissed her, while pounding his hard dick inside her tight, hot, hole. He groaned and filled her body with power, and Annie moaned and gasped as sparkling blobs of light shook off her body. As she writhed and squealed under him, Joey watched her. This beautiful girl was now his entire universe. Gone were the manipulative reporters and invasive photographers, and gone were the nightmares. All that existed now was Annie, her warmth, her softness, her love, her sweet taste, and her tight pussy. He moved his arms up under her shoulders, took her hands in his, and entwined his fingers with hers. Her warm, sweet lips ravenously sucked on his lips. Tricia nudged her foot closer to his hand, and Joey grasped it. A flood of power filled her body, and Tricia gasped in shock as the Omegaplasm ignited her hypothalamus. She started bucking and thrusting her fingers inside herself desperately. He dropped his head down to Annie's shoulder, breathing heavily. "Gonna cum..." he muttered. His orgasm was on the edge. These morning fucks never lasted long. "Cum Joey!" Annie coaxed. "Cum inside me!" Tricia was panting and writhing in the chair next to them, stirring her fingers inside herself. "Yes, Joey! Cum for us!" Joey drove his cock down hard, pushing as deep as possible, and he commanded the Omegaplasm to flash Annie's pleasure center. Annie thrashed and screamed as her orgasm ignited. She wailed in ecstasy, and he pounded her furiously. With one final thrust, Joey let loose his own climax. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" he cried out. KA-BOOM! WHOOSH!WHOOSH!WHOOSH! There was an explosion of sound, like a firecracker going off in the room, shaking the couch and the entire apartment, followed by a flurry of activity. Joey was spraying loads of hot cum inside the condom, and Annie whipped her head about. "Joey! Stop!" "Can't!" He grimaced and strained on her. "She's gone!" Tricia had vanished from Annie's chair. "Joey! Go find her!" "Cumming!" he groaned, and he held on to Annie as he unloaded into her. "Oh! I'm sorry! Cum baby! Cum inside me!" She kissed his face repeatedly. "Oh, I love you so much!" "Love you ... too!" Joey collapsed on her and panted. "So good!" Annie kissed him again. "You feeling better?" He lay on top of her, breathing heavily. "Yeah. Thank you, Annie. I love you." "I love you." She goaded him, patting his shoulder. "Now go find her. Quick." He groaned. "Why did she have to do this right NOW?" "Murphy's Law. Now go." Joey pulled back, extracting himself from Annie, and the condom slipped off his cock, spilling blobs of cum on the leather couch. "Oh, damn!" he cursed, and he picked up the condom and stood up. "I spilled." He stumbled off naked to the kitchen. "I'm getting some paper towels." He walked into the kitchen and stopped. The sink was unusually empty and the counters were tidy, a normally alien sight in their lives. There was a brown paper bag sitting on the counter, and the frying pan held a mixture of uncooked eggs. "She did the dishes," he announced. "And it looks like she also packed my lunch, and I think she tried making breakfast." "Well, that was nice of her." He frowned as he looked around. "Where are the paper towels?" "Oh! Here!" Annie called out. "She brought them over here. I got this. Go find her, and flush that condom." "I know." Joey headed for the bathroom and dropped the condom in the toilet. He also wiped himself clean with a baby wipe and tossed that in. He flushed and headed for their bedroom. "She's not in here!" he announced. He headed for his bedroom, formerly Tricia's bedroom. It was odd. They went from having too few bedrooms to too many. When he first moved in, Tricia had one room and Annie had the other, and they rotated, sharing rooms. Now all three slept together, but for the sake of appearances and random checks, Tricia had to move her stuff into Annie's room, and he got Tricia's room. Not that he ever slept in that room. He walked inside. "Found her!" he called out. Tricia was sitting on the bed in a lotus position, her eyes open and gazing at the digital clock, and her hands held in her lap palm-up. She sat unnaturally still, barely breathing. Even minor movements caused by her heart beating, movements which people don't even notice until they are gone, were subdued. He gently reached out and touched her hair. It felt stiff and unyielding, like steel wool. "Is she banking?" Annie asked. "Yeah." "When is she at?" He glanced down at her digital wristwatch, which she now wore all the time. It was her lifeline. "Six-fifty-two," he answered. Annie glanced at the kitchen clock. It was six-eighteen. "What's her tempo?" She watched the second-hand on the clock. Joey recited the seconds as they advanced on her watch. "Forty-two." Several seconds went by. "Forty-three." Joey found it hard to keep his eyes on her watch, because it was going so slowly and it was so boring, and Tricia's breasts were right there. He kept sneaking glances at her magnificent mounds as he watched her wristwatch. "Forty-four." Annie watched the kitchen clock and when Joey called out "Forty-six" she was satisfied. She muttered to herself, calculating. "Tempo of three and a half warp-seconds per second, difference of thirty-four minutes, or two-thousand-forty seconds. Twenty-forty over two point five is ... eight sixteen ... thirteen and a half minutes..." She called out loudly "Seven-oh-six!" Joey picked up a small white-board and dry-erase marker, wrote "7:06 AM" on the board, drew a little heart on it, and placed it next to the digital clock. Then he stepped back and studied his foster mother. She still sat unnervingly motionless, and he watched her as her eyes slowly drifted towards the white board. Joey wondered what life was like for her right now, watching the world speed around her blindly as she resynchronized herself. Tricia's time powers were coming in, and they were certainly making life interesting for everyone. First there were the prophetic dreams which she was actually losing control over. They were coming in less frequently now, and she was having less control over the information passed. And then there were the strange hiccups in time when she would answer a question moments before people would ask it. It always made him feel uncomfortable when she did that, because she would suddenly blurt out something like "No, thank you!" or "What did you have in mind?" and he felt like he then HAD to say something that fit her response, or else he would be responsible for causing some huge paradox which would rip open the fabric of the space-time continuum right there in their apartment. And that would definitely be cause for them to lose their security deposit. The weirdest part about the hiccups is that they always finished in a way that made sense, regardless of whether he knew what to say or not. That was the thing that bothered him the most. He felt like there was this alien presence that kept creeping into their lives, forcing him or Annie to say something that they weren't planning on saying. Like if Tricia suddenly said something like "Can you get me one too?" he suddenly realized he had to say something like "I'm going to get a soda," not because he was thirsty, but because she already responded. And if he didn't know what to respond with, he would just blurt out the first thing that came to mind, and damn it if it didn't always fit! "About what?" fit perfectly with "Could you give us a clue sometimes?" Annie called it something weird. He tried to recall what it was. "Existential angst." She just shrugged and dealt with it. He didn't know how she managed it. It creeped him out. But the hiccuping was nothing compared to the time-warps. Tricia was always out of sync with everyone else, and the further out of sync she got, the worse her hiccuping got. They had come up with a way of thinking about time. It was the old saying. "Time is Money," and Tricia just had a bank account with a huge credit limit. She could "save" time, which was what she was doing right now, banking time. She could also spend time, which was what she did a couple minutes ago, when she spent nearly an hour over the course of a couple seconds, breaking the sound barrier while cleaning the kitchen. Right now she was in debt. With time, as it was with money, saving always took longer than spending. Sometimes Tricia banked in her sleep, storing time while they were in bed. It was why she was sleeping late so often, and why she tended to hiccup in the morning. It was also why she always wore her digital watch. It measured her personal time, and it rarely matched everyone else's time. Her cell phone would reset with normal time, so she used both that and her wristwatch to figure out how much time she had banked, or had spent. He noticed a piece of paper sitting next to her. He picked it up. "She left us a note." "What does it say?" Annie called from the living room. "Corn dropping to one eighty two." "Oh! Great!" Annie exclaimed. It was a commodity futures price prediction. Annie could use that to sell corn and make some money. He could never understand how she could sell something that they didn't have, but it always worked. "And it also says Betty at seven." "Oy vey! Come help me." Joey folded the note and checked on Tricia one last time. In the past minute she had turned her eyes to him, and was smiling slightly. He figured she must have noticed the heart. It was either that or the fact that he had been standing in front of her naked long enough for her to notice him. He returned to Annie and found her sitting up on the couch. She had pulled her T-shirt down and a few wadded paper towels lay on the floor next to her. "We're going to have to sponge the couch again, and get some air freshener," she said. "Come on. Help me to my chair." Joey scooped Annie up, making her feather-light. "Hate these surprise inspections," he muttered. "It's the price of the foster-care system. They just want to make sure that there's no yugn-zakh going on." He carried her past her chair and into the bedroom. "But I like the yugn-zakh." Annie giggled. "Joey. You missed my chair." "I'm going to help you get dressed." He lay her on the bed, and lifted her shirt over her head. She was now completely naked, and laying before him. "Joey. You know what happens every time you try to help me get dressed." He nodded. "Yes. I know." He lay down next to her and stroked her cheek. "I'm kind of counting on it to happen again. She glanced at his growing erection and shuddered as he sent a wave of power through her body. "But..." she whimpered half-heartedly. He kissed her. " ... you know that in forty minutes..." He kissed her again, and she shook, fighting desires and responsibility, succumbing to his touch. " ... Child and Family Services are coming to see..." He licked her tongue and she whimpered. " ... that we're not doing this..." He kissed her deeply, and fondled one big breast. Her hand slipped up to his hard cock and she started stroking him. "I know," he said. "That means we have thirty more minutes." And he took her shoulder and pulled, rolling the beautiful Japanese girl on top of him. Annie giggled and laughed, mashed her fat breasts into his chest and kissed him deeply. Her long hair fell about their faces, enclosing them in their own personal space, cut off from all the displeasures of reality. ------- Chapter 3: Images and Rebuilding The stained door with the peeling paint creaked loudly as it opened, and the priest held it, politely inviting the two other men into the ratty old motel room. The two homeless men shuffled inside. "Please, make yourself at home," said the priest warmly. He placed the "Do Not Disturb" tag on the door handle and closed the door, then gestured to the bed and to a table with a bag and newspaper. "Rest. Take food." The homeless men looked about the shabby room, neither one seriously considering that what they were about to receive or experience was going to be free or un-degrading. But hunger tended to breed desperation. "Look, man," said one of the men. "You don't have to pretend to be nice to us. Just do what you want with us and give us some money." The priest smiled and walked to the table. "But all that I want is to be generous to my fellow brothers. For as the good book says, 'He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord.'" He beamed in a warm pride. "Proverbs, chapter nineteen, verse seventeen." "So ... how do you want us?" asked the other man. "Comfortable and happy, like all men should be," answered the priest. He picked up a bottle of orange juice and opened it, offering it to one of the men. "Fed and ... clean." He nodded his head towards the bathroom. The men looked at each other and shrugged. "He wants one of us clean, and the other dirty," said one of the men. "Whatever gets him off." He slumped into the bathroom and started taking off his clothes. The priest smiled politely, and the second homeless man took the orange juice. He opened it and drank, smacking his lips oddly and grimacing at the taste. "This tastes weird," he said. The priest looked concerned. "It should be good. Let me try it." He took a swig, tasting the juice. "Tastes fine to me." He handed it back to the homeless man, who drank some more. The priest hummed to himself as he turned to the bag and pulled out a set of nested plastic containers. The tune he hummed sounded spiritual to the homeless man, like a hymn. He occupied himself, sorting and spreading the containers. "What are those for?" the man asked the priest. "Organizing. Cleaning." He turned to the man. "Cleanliness is next to Godliness." The priest watched the homeless man carefully, and they heard the water turn on in the bathroom. The sound of streams of water spraying on the floor of the tub was soon interrupted as the other man stepped into the shower. The priest smiled. "So, how does this fantasy of yours work?" asked the homeless man. He drained the rest of his orange juice and scratched himself. "Do we go in there with him, or are you two doing me, or are we just doing you?" The priest smiled and shook his head. "Honestly, this is nothing like what you think." His eyes turned glassy as he stared off into space. "I'd like to make a new man out of you. Both of you. I have been dreaming of doing this for years." He sat on the chair, rolled up his sleeves, and started to remove his shoes, humming to himself. The homeless man watched the priest as he took off his shoes and socks. He scratched himself again, started sweating, and his mouth turned dry. His face fell as his stomach lurched. A sharp pain clawed on his insides, and started burning. He convulsed, and doubled over in pain. "Aarggh!!! What did you ... what did you give me?" he groaned. "Stand up," commanded the priest, and he stood and lifted the homeless man, propping him up against the wall. "I will return." The man clutched his stomach and his face twisted in pain as the fire raged inside his blood. His body shook, and the priest stepped into the bathroom. He pushed open the shower curtain and turned off the water. The naked man looked at him. "What? We're starting already?" he asked. "Yes," answered the priest. He watched the filthy water pour into the drain, and once it cleared, he closed the drain. "AAARRGGHH!!!" The man out in the room screamed in agony, and collapsed. The naked man's eyes widened. "Nick! Are you..." he tried to ask, but that was as far as he got. The knife came out of nowhere, and slashed his throat. He clutched his throat, trying to hold the blood in, but it pumped and poured out in gushing streams between his fingers. The priest grabbed the man's head and pushed him back, forcing him to bleed into the stopped tub. The man let out a series of gurgling, rasping sounds as he struggled for life and breath, and his face turned ashen. His body slumped. The priest pushed the man's knees straight, and carefully lowered the body down, keeping as much of it out of the pool of blood as possible. Once he managed to get the body properly propped up, he stepped back and casually washed his hands in the sink. The fresh blood washed off with little difficulty. He then stepped out of the bathroom, took off his collar, and taking the other body by the legs, dragged it into the bathroom. Touching both bodies at once, he concentrated for several minutes. "United in death, united in resurrection," he whispered to himself. "Death sync." Tombspawn concentrated, the air thrummed with a foreboding moan, and a sickly green energy flowed from his hands, entering the two bodies. "Arise. Awaken," he commanded them. The bodies moved. The naked man in the shower slowly erected, and the clothed one sat up, orange foam dribbling from its mouth. "Remove your clothes," he ordered the one, and the clothed corpse started unbuttoning its shirt. The blood that had poured into the tub had filled the lower half and was slowly creeping up towards the feet of the naked corpse. "Move your feet. Stand on the edge," he instructed. The corpse did just that. "Bleed into the tub." The supervillain put the knife in his pocket and sliced the naked corpse's ankle with the soft pad of his bare finger. Blood poured from the new wound into the tub. The tub was filling quickly with the precious red fluid. Tombspawn touched the corpse and the body shivered as it constricted. Blood sprayed from the wounds as the muscles squeezed, draining quickly, and soon turned to a slow drip as the body emptied itself. He carefully wiped the blood from corpse's chest with paper towels, cleaning it. By the time the corpse was completely empty, the second corpse was naked and waiting its turn. Tombspawn left the two and took the newspaper, spreading sheets over the bed and making a path from the bed to the bathroom. "Now go to the bed, lie there, and wait," he commanded the drained corpse. The body shuffled over obediently, leaving a trail of small red dots on the newspaper. Tomspawn repeated the process with the second body, having it stand on the edge of the tub and slitting the ankles. Blood poured and collected into the tub. When that body was drained, he commanded it to lie on the bed as well. "Stricken, smitted, and afflicted, See him dying on the tree; 'Tis the Christ by man rejected; Yes, my soul, 'tis He, 'tis He!" He sang softly to himself as he ran his fingers over the men's skins. The skin opened up at his command, unzipping at his touch, eagerly revealing the muscles and fat and organs hidden beneath. He took the skin off in large strips, pulling it off the hands and feet like well worn gloves and socks, and over the heads, unmasking the skulls and muscles. "Mark the sacrifice appointed, See who bears the awful load! 'Tis the Word, 'tis God's Anointed, Son of man and Son of God." He hung the skins in the bathroom to drip, and returned to the bodies, where he began to disassemble and sort the parts. Strips of fat went in one container, muscles in another. Tendons were placed in a small tub along with the small bits of cartilage. Nerves, arteries, and veins were disconnected, unthreaded, and wound neatly into organized rolls. Large organs were placed into the largest tub. "Here we have a firm foundation, Here the refuge of the lost; Christ, the Rock of our salvation, His the Name of which we boast." The intestines, bladders, and stomachs needed to be cleaned, and he took those to the bathroom and squeezed the contents out into the toilet. He really didn't need these parts, but felt it would be disrespectful to not use them. Spinal fluid was drained and collected into a small container. This was something he definitely did not need, and he dutifully poured the fluids into the sink. "Lamb of God! For sinners wounded, Sacrifice to cancel guilt, None shall ever be confounded Who on Thee their hope have built." He opened the skulls and removed the brains, and then the eyes. He grimaced as he learned that one man had a false eye. Three eyes would just not do, but it was too late. He would work with what he had. The bodies were disassembled and sorted, and nothing remained but the skeletons still laying in their original positions. He washed his hands again, took a book out of the bag, and studied the diagrams inside. "Right Minimus Distal Phalange," he quoted the book, and he picked up the two small matching bones from the right hands, tips of the little fingers, from both bodies. He examined the similar shapes, noted how they reminded him of a chess pawn, and squeezed the two together. The bones flowed under his power, molding like clay into a single bone of greater size, density, and strength. He placed the composite bone down and picked up two more. "Right Minimus Intermediate Phalange." The bones fused together. Tombspawn looked over the expanse of the over four hundred bones that lay before him, and then at all the organs and skin that would come afterward. This would take a long time, but food and sleep were no longer concerns of his, and the death sync would ensure a quality construction. The coroner's money had paid for the room for several days. He thought about his songs, and smiled to himself as he recalled the simple tune about the foot bone connecting to the ankle bone. He thought back to the tub in the bathroom, and selected a more appropriate song. "Precious, precious blood of Jesus, Shed on Calvary! Shed for rebels, shed for sinners, Shed for me. Precious, precious blood of Jesus! All the price is paid; Perfect pardon now is offered, Peace is made." ------- Tricia shuddered and shook as she re-tuned herself, adjusting her tempo back to normal speed. It was nearly seven in the morning, and she still felt a little out-of-sync with reality, but not so bad that she couldn't deal with it. She climbed off the bed and scampered into the kitchen, following the smell of frying bacon. "¡Buenos dios!" she purred to Joey, who was tending the eggs. He smiled at her. "Good morning!" She sauntered into the kitchen, planted her lips on his, and gave him a big, fat, wet kiss and a hug. "You two were hot this morning," she growled. Joey grinned. "Thanks. You missed round two." "Really? You stud! She's going to be in a good mood today. Sorry I missed it." She picked up a coffee mug and filled it. "But I did get to see you two stuck in your 'O' faces for an hour. That was fun." He chuckled. "I really don't want to think about that. Oh, thanks for doing the dishes and making my lunch." "Well, I got bored." Tricia leaned over his shoulder. "What did you do to my eggs?" "I put cheese in." "Joey, I'm trying to lose weight." "I like eggs with cheese!" He turned and looked her up and down. "And I like you the way you are. Stop trying to lose weight. If you want eggs without cheese, cook them when you're in your time-warp world." "You know I can't make the electricity go faster." Tricia leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "And thank you. You're sweet. On the dot." This last thing she said confused him, so he changed the subject. "Is Betty really showing up at seven?" Tricia sipped her coffee, not answering. Joey realized the reason she wasn't answering was because as far as she knew, she just did. She had just hiccuped. She glanced down at the kitchen counter and groaned as she saw a couple ants crawling on the counter. "Damn ants," she cursed. "How the hell do they get past the ward?" She bent down and opened the cupboard under the sink to extract a plastic bottle of insect killer. Joey grinned as he checked out her butt. Her T-shirt pulled upward as she bent over, exposing her naked labia. "Shouldn't you be getting dressed? You know how Betty gets when she sees you like this." She stood up and smirked at him. "I know how YOU get when you see me like this." Tricia checked to see if the spray bottle was closed, found her targets, and used the bottle of insect killer to kill the ants. WHAM! WHAM! "Trish." She sighed, pulled a fresh paper towel, and wiped up the smashed insects. "I suppose so. But you know, stud, if you were to slip her a little of the Omega power, it just might loosen her up a bit. Pull that stick out of her ass." She tossed the paper towel in the trash. Joey considered it, and made a face. "Ew." "'Ew' what? Stick-up-her-ass 'Ew', or..." He shook his head. "No. Just touching-Betty 'Ew'." He put the spatula down and turned to her. "I just can't stand the thought of touching any woman who isn't young, gorgeous, sexy..." Tricia smirked at him as she walked into his arms. "We have you spoiled, don't we?" "Yeah." They embraced and kissed. As they wrapped their arms around each other, their tongues slipped over each other, and her big breasts mashed up against his chest, Joey slid his hands down and under her shirt, feeling her bare butt. Power immediately slipped into her body, up to her brain stem, and Tricia squirmed on him. "Mmmmm..." he moaned into her mouth. "Sorry you missed the action this morning." "I enjoyed myself." She kissed him again. "I really wanted you this morning. I was getting really horny." "Joey, you know house rule number five. You want a woman, you take her." They giggled as they kissed, and Joey slipped his hands upward, lifting her shirt up over her naked ass. Tricia writhed and rubbed her crotch up against his, and his erection started to grow. They heard the front door open, and their eyes snapped open in alarm. "HELLOOO! KNOCK! KNOCK!" It was Betty's voice. Scrappy jumped out of his cage barking and ran to meet the visitor. "OH! Get away from me! Stop that!" They could hear her dealing with the dog. Joey let go of Tricia and stared at her in panic. "I can turn you invisible," he whispered. Tricia relaxed, winked at him, and pulled her shirt back down over her rump. "Don't worry. I've got this." And she confidently strutted out of the kitchen. "Miss Collins! ¡Buenos dios! What a delight to see you. Again. So soon." Betty Collins was an older, stern, plain-looking woman from Child and Family Services, and as Joey peeked out from around the corner of the dining room, he could see her shooing the dog away from her. "Back! Back! Get off of me!" "Scrappy!" Joey called, and he whistled. The dog obediently ran over to him, and Joey smirked as he watched the woman wiping invisible dirt from her legs. "Honestly!" Betty griped. "I just can't see how anyone could live with such a filthy little..." She stopped when she saw Tricia standing in the middle of the room wearing what appeared to be a large T-shirt and nothing else. Her jaw dropped, and she silently mouthed "With a shirt like this..." as she read the words that were currently stretched across Tricia's huge and obviously bra-less breasts. "Miss Sanchez! You're..." Tricia struck an attitude pose. "Isn't it a little early for our next unscheduled inspection? It's only been, what, four days? It's only supposed to be once every couple months." Betty squinted at Tricia's body. "Are you wearing underwear?" she asked accusingly. Tricia sauntered up to the woman confidently. "Are you going to check me?" She hesitated. "Um ... No." "Then, yes!" Tricia answered, and she blew a little air-kiss and sashayed into her bedroom to get dressed. Annie rolled out as Tricia entered. She took one look at the woman and gave her a critical stare. "Oy! Miss Collins. Again with the inspections? What! You don't have enough other families to monitor?" Betty walked into the living room and surveyed the place. "And a lovely 'Good morning to you, too' Miss Freidman. And yes, I do have other families to monitor." She ran her finger across a surface, checking it for dust. "But not all of my clients are such high-profile as you all are, and not everyone quite approves of this setup. You require extra attention. Now if you will mind your manners and..." "I'll mind my manners when you mind yours," Annie interrupted. "Now step outside, KNOCK this time, and wait for one of us to answer the door. I don't like people coming into my house without being invited first." Betty smiled sourly at Annie. "I'm sorry you feel that way, but you know the deal EarthGuard made with Child and Family Services. I get a key, I get my name on the..." She gestured to the hovering crystal. " ... permission list, and I get to make as many inspections as I deem necessary." She eyed Annie accusingly. "And quite frankly, I feel I don't make enough inspections here. I'm not at all fooled by your little front. I know what's going on here, and I think it is DISGUSTING!" She pulled her pen out of her clipboard. "That woman, that VIXEN! She's not at all appropriate for tending to an impressionable young man. I just KNOW that she's going to leave him scarred for life!" Annie glared back at her. "Actually, that scar came from a different woman, the one that tried to claw his heart out. And that VIXEN you don't like is the reason he is alive today, so pay her some respect. So unless you can prove something, you should keep your accusations to yourself." Betty marked something on her clipboard. "Listen, Miss Freidman. We all know that he doesn't belong here. He belongs in a PROPER family. And if I find any evidence of you mistreating him, or of any inappropriate behavior, or if I find any of his extended family, I'm taking him out of here." She glanced at the hallway leading to the bedroom. "It's just not right for a woman with HER attitudes and HER history to be taking care of children!" She looked back down at Annie. "And YOU! You're way to young! You're barely out of diapers! You shouldn't be OW!!!" She shrieked in pain because Annie had rolled her chair into her legs. Annie grabbed the woman by the arm and held her with the tight powerful grip of a wheelchair user. "Now listen to me!" Annie said to her sternly, and squeezing her arm painfully. "I know about Tricia's past and her attitudes, but she, like ALL people are capable of, has made a change in her life. She is a good mother, and she is dedicated to this boy's welfare. And as for me, I'll have you know that I'm back IN those diapers again. And I want you to know that if everything goes right in your life, you one day will be back in them as well. So knock it off with the diaper insults!" She released the woman and rolled her chair back. "Now go do your inspection. Check the trashcans for used condoms and drawers for sex toys." Betty had been stunned into silence, and she rubbed her arm where Annie had grabbed her. She stepped back and took a moment to regain her composure, looked in a trashcan, and made a note on her clipboard. "I see you are still into junk food," she said snidely. "Likewise," Annie responded, noting Betty's ass. Betty didn't notice the comment, and she strode into the kitchen. "Joseph!" she called out in a loving voice that fooled no-one. "And how are you doing this morning?" Joey was flipping the eggs and bacon. She frowned. "I see they have you doing the cooking." Joey smiled. "Yeah! It's fun!" he beamed. "I'm used to cooking things by putting a stick through it after I kill it, or using an old piece of used aluminum foil. But they have pans! This is great!" He turned to her and grinned. "You want some eggs?" Betty blinked as she processed the thought of Joey having to kill his food first, and stammered a bit. "Um ... no, thank you though." She composed herself, looked over the clean kitchen counters, and examined the trashcan. "Are you doing okay? Is there anything you need? Everything all right?" She looked overly concerned. "Anything they are not providing?" Joey concentrated, working out the last few questions and noticed that once again Betty had asked him questions where the answers were 'yes-no-yes-no', which made it impossible for him to answer with either one of those words. She had an annoying habit of doing this. No matter what he could say in response, she would take it wrong. "I'm fine!" he decided on. "I like it here. Why do you keep asking me?" "Part of the job. And besides, I worry about you, Joey." Betty looked in the refrigerator and then the freezer, and apparently failed to find any sex toys in there. "This is not exactly the ideal setup for a young man like yourself. Wouldn't you feel more comfortable with a more ... traditional family?" Joey squinted at her. "Traditional? You mean..." She looked in the trashcan again. "Older ... more parental experience, and a strong, supportive father figure? A steady lifestyle?" He nodded and gasped in understanding. "Oh! You mean some boring couple!" She frowned. "No, well ... I mean, stable. Normal." Joey turned back to his eggs and bacon. "Nah. I like Tricia and Annie. And if you're trying to offer me a 'normal' life, you're a bit too late. Tell you what!" He turned back to her. "You go on TV and tell everyone that I didn't kill an eighth level demon, and convince everyone I don't have powers, and I'll consider it. But until then, I'm staying here." She shrugged and opened a cabinet at random, saw the dishes inside, and closed it. She then turned to him and looked at him with great concern. "Joey, I saw what she was wearing. You can tell me," she said in a soft whisper. "Is everything ... appropriate here?" He showed nothing on his face despite the fact that he was so sick of her asking this. She was asking about the sex again. But he decided to play along. "What do you mean?" She got quieter. "Do they ever ... do things ... or make YOU do things ... that make you feel..." She took a deep breath. " ... uncomfortable?" Should I get the anatomically correct doll? he thought to himself. He grinned internally as he thought of something. "You mean things like, with my clothes?" She nodded. "Yes," he whispered. Betty gasped and clutched her chest. He leaned in close to her and whispered. "They make me do my own laundry now." Betty groaned and rolled her eyes. "No need to get smart with me. I only want what is best for you." "Well, Annie and Trish are the best." Annie heard that in the next room, and smiled to herself with some pride. She liked being the best, and she also liked getting top billing. As Betty walked out through the living room, Annie dropped the smile quickly and busied herself with her laptop. Betty continued her inspection, sniffed the couch, and turned towards the girl's bedroom. "Knock first," Annie grumbled just loud enough. Betty had her hand on the doorknob, and she grimaced. She knocked. "I'm NAAAAKED!!!" Tricia sang from the bedroom. Betty groaned again, and decided to inspect the bathroom. Tricia stood in front of the bedroom mirror, half dressed in underwear, jeans, and one of her favorite sports bras, and she leaned on the dresser as a wave of dizziness enveloped her. She took some deep breaths and steadied herself. She was still out of sync with the rest of the world, and her body was still adjusting. It was only ten minutes of debt, but sometimes that was enough to cause some nausea. She really wanted to do some more meditation and catch up with everyone else, but not with Betty there. Nobody outside EarthGuard knew about her time powers, and she wanted to keep it like that. Once she felt rebalanced and confident, she pulled out a favorite blouse and stretched the tight garment over her body. She twisted and posed in front of the mirror, admiring her curves and deep cleavage. She loved this blouse, how it looked on her, and how it made everyone else stare at her, and she sighed as she realized that this meant she had to change into something more conservative. She had just finished changing into a high-necked loose and unflattering shirt and jeans jacket when she heard knocking on her front door. She glanced at the clock and frowned. "Annie? Were you expecting someone?" she called out as she went to answer the door. Joey and Annie were in the dining room having breakfast and were peering out in curiosity. "No," she answered. Betty emerged from Joey's room with an odd look on her face. "Do you normally get company this early?" she asked critically. Tricia gave Betty a double-take, and decided to not point out the obvious to her that SHE visited at this hour, and who was she to complain? She turned back and opened the door. "Trish! DAHRLING! So GOOD to see you! May we please come in? I absolutely MUST show you what came in today!" Tricia blinked in surprise. "Matilda! Um, yes ... Please come in." A tall elegant woman in her late fifties strode into the apartment confidently, and was trailed by a short young Asian man in his twenties. The young man carried a cardboard box and wore a huge camera about his neck. "What ... What brings you here?" Matilda air-kissed both of Tricia's cheeks and breezed into the living room. "One moment dear. Now where are my other dahrlings? Annette? ZhoSEPH? Oh!" She stopped as she saw Betty, and looked for a moment mildly discomforted, but then regained her composure. "Hello. Am I interrupting something?" Betty looked at Matilda critically. "And who are you?" Tricia gave the introductions, waving her hands back and forth. "Betty Collins, Matilda Rothschild. Betty is our case worker from Child and Family Services doing one of her MANY thorough inspections, and Matilda is our publicist." The two women looked each other up and down, sizing each other up. Neither one appeared to have any respect for the other. Matilda cocked her head. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "So you are the one trying to prove that my dahrlings are living an inappropriate lifestyle." Betty glowered at her. "And you're the one covering it up." Matilda clutched her heart in shock. "Oh, please! I wouldn't DREAM of representing someone with such moral shortcomings. Credit me with SOME sensibilities!" "So you think that this setup is appro..." -FLASH!- Betty yelped as the young man suddenly took her picture, the flashbulb blinding her. "Oh! My apologies!" Matilda turned to the young man and cupped his cheek. "This is Jacques, my new photographer. Such a TALENTED eye, and SO good in bed." She growled this last part. "Hello Jacques!" Tricia struck a pose and puckered her lips towards the cameraman. -FLASH!- He grinned and took a picture of her. "So what's going on?" Annie asked, rolling into the living room. Joey followed, carrying Scrappy. "What's this big thing that..." -FLASH!- "Acck!" Annie flinched as Jacques took her picture. "Don't do that! Give me a warning at least!" She waved her hands in front of her eyes, trying to swat away the spots. "Oh, I am sorry, dahrling, but I cannot possibly control Jacques, nor would I DREAM of trying to. His results are exquisite." She gave Jacques a small growl. "In EVERYTHING he does for me." Betty folded her arms over her chest. "Can we PLEASE change the subject to something more appropriate? May I remind you there is a CHILD in the room?" Joey smirked and asked as innocently as possible. "What are they talking about?" "Photography," Annie answered immediately. "Matilda likes how he develops in a dark room." Betty's jaw dropped in indignation, and Tricia bit her lip, trying to contain her laughter. Matilda took off her fur stole and draped it on the couch. "Ms. Collins, the boy is fourteen, and he knows about these things. And contrary to your opinion, I am actually on your side. Those nasty rumors that you are apparently buying into are just a reflection of the general public's misunderstanding about the true nature of the love among these three, and it's my job to educate the public." She pulled a folder out of the box and opened it. "And one way to do this is to show that they are dating!" "DATING?!" Betty shrieked. "You mean you actually want them to..." "Other people, dear. Don't be so dense." She approached Joey, handing him the folder. "Now Joseph, dahrling. What do you think of these?" Joey handed Scrappy to Annie, took the folder with some curiosity, and opened it. Inside were three head-shots of young girls. He frowned as he looked at the attractive young girls. "Who are they?" "Dakota Fanning, Georgie Henley, and Hailey McCann," Matilda answered proudly. Annie and Tricia's eyes widened in surprise. "Movie stars?" Annie asked. Matilda beamed. "Their agents said they expressed an interest in dating a young super-hero. Georgie lives in England, but she sometimes works in Florida, so I wouldn't worry about the commute." Joey blinked, and his jaw dropped. "Um ... I..." He flustered as he looked at the pictures, and shook his head. "No thanks. I'm sure they're nice, but ... I don't know them." Matilda cocked her head. "Oh, you hardly need to, dahrling. Just a quick dinner and a photo-shoot. It would tie in wonderfully with the Disney offer!" He shook his head. "The TV show again? No." He handed the folder back to Matilda. "Just, not interested. Look, thanks, but I gotta ... I gotta get ready for school." He headed for his room. Matilda started to chase after him. "But it's just a pilot! If you would only..." Tricia stepped in front of Matilda, stopping her, and stared her down. "He said no." -FLASH!- Tricia didn't even flinch. Matilda blinked in confusion and fear as she saw the fire in Tricia's eyes. Betty grinned to herself as she watched the woman melt. Tricia continued. "He's not interested in becoming a celebrity, or an actor. He's got enough problems right now. Thank you for the offer, but he's more concerned with dealing with super-powers and catching up in school." The tall woman stuttered and flustered. "Well, at LEAST make sure that he asks someone out from his school. We do need to see him with someone else." "He'll do that when he's ready." Tricia declared. Betty Collins made a note on her clipboard. "Well, I think I've seen enough for today," she said almost musically. She actually looked impressed with Tricia. "Everything looks fine. And I'll see you in two weeks." She turned to leave, stopped, and turned to Jacques. "Can you send me a copy of that last picture? Thanks!" And she left, humming to herself. Five seconds after the door closed, Tricia broke out into a huge grin. "Thanks, Matilda." She clenched her fists. "That woman! She's always ... insinuating! It just drives me..." She shrugged and smiled back, immediately reverting to her normal composure. "Anytime! You know, dahrling, that showing you as a good mother is part of my job. And besides, you know I couldn't care less if I caught him teabagging you. Now Annette! Dahrling!" She turned to Annie. "Playboy has again increased their offer substantially! Would you please reconsider?" "ABSOLUTELY NOT!" She turned her chair and wheeled back to the dining room. "But dahrling, in their entire history, they've only had one handicapped centerfold girl, and that was ages ago! You would be wonderful! Imagine the publicity! And it would certainly help you with your man problem." Annie spun around and looked at her furiously. "I don't have a man problem!" "Yes you do, Annette. We need you to get dating men." She glanced back at Tricia. "Both of you! Now Annette, when was your last date? I thought you and Bullwhip made a CHARMING couple!" "DON'T! ... Bring him up!" Annie barked. "Look, I did what you asked! I went out with him once, and he's a good superhero, and I'm glad he's out there protecting us and rescuing children, but le-man-a-shem I don't want to go out with him again! Once I got past being star-struck and got to know him, I realized he's not my type. He thinks he's God's gift to women, and it hurts like hell to fly with him." "Hey! How come she gets the offers from Playboy and I don't?" Tricia complained. Matilda glanced at Tricia. "Oh, you get them too. I just turn them down. Not good for your good-mother image." She tugged at Tricia's blouse. "Now before you go out, would you be a dear and change into something a bit less ... sexy?" Tricia looked down at the frumpy blouse she was wearing. "Like what? A potato sack? Sorry, but everything looks good on me. Can't help it." Matilda strode over to the cardboard box on the couch. "We really need you to tone down the sexiness in your civilian-persona. Save it for your hero-identity. Now I want to show you some samples that came in." And she opened the box. "Hero? No! Stop it, Matilda. I told you. I'm not going to do the whole superhero thing!" "But dahrling! I LOVED the way you handled yourself against that awful demon. And 'Omega Woman' was an inspired idea!" She pulled a plastic-wrapped costume out of the box. "Now this came in from an Italian designer who specializes in working with the full-figured heroine. He asked for your measurements; I hope you don't mind. Now this is just a sample. What do you think?" She held the costume up to Tricia, who stared at it slack-jawed. "Note the browns, reds, and golds that flatter your Autumn coloring. The classic cape, the sexy fishnet stockings, the calf boots. I think the over-sized mask works well with your hairstyle." She grinned. "And surely even YOU would like this plunging neckline." Annie stared at the costume in disbelief. "Plunging? It's practically plummeting!" Tricia blinked and shifted on her hips. Her clitoris spasmed and her mouth actually watered at the thought of wearing that costume. "I ... well..." She was seriously tempted to try the costume on, but she inhaled and drew some strength. "No! I'm not becoming a superhero. I don't need a costume." "I'll just leave it here with you. Let you try it on. At least let me know how Joseph likes it. He IS our target demographic." She dropped the costume on the couch and pulled another from the box. "Now this is from a French designer. Very chic, would you say?" Tricia and Annie both looked at the second costume. They squinted, frowned, and slowly tilted their heads all the way sideways simultaneously. It was hardly a costume, and arguably not even a garment. Strips of cloth hung and twisted chaotically on the hanger. Sleeves and loops billowed out randomly, and colors clashed violently. "What is that?" asked Annie. "It's either a Thneed or a deflated Klein bottle." Tricia lifted an eyebrow. "That better come with an instruction manual." Matilda scoffed. "Oh, come on, dahrlings. Doesn't this just scream 'superhero' to you?" Annie shook her head. "No. I was thinking more of 'Gesundheit'." ------- The morning passed, and Annie eventually found herself alone in the apartment. Matilda and Jacques had left the costumes behind for Tricia to try on, and as Tricia left taking Joey to school, she took the costumes with her to donate to the shelter. Why anyone in the homeless shelter would want those costumes was beyond Annie's imagination. Matilda was adamant that Annie go out on a date, and promised to provide a list of prominent Washingtonians who would be interested in her. Annie fumed and agreed to look at the list, knowing that this whole 'dating other people' plan was actually a good idea for all three of them, but made no promise to get in contact with any of them. But now that she was alone, she felt her mind open, and the sense of freedom that comes from not having to deal with other people. She logged onto her commodity futures trading account, planned out a modest leveraging pattern, and placed a short-order on Corn futures that would net them several thousand dollars by the end of the day. Finished with the only real work she needed to do for the day, or pretty much, the whole month, she turned to her pet project. She was writing a beginner's book on the joy of object-oriented programming. "Java Nagila!" The title just came to her one day, and she felt it was too good to not use. She soon received email from Matilda, and since she promised she would, she dutifully scanned the list of eligible men. There were some congressmen, lawyers, lobbyists, and a couple doctors, but no scientists. She sighed, and checked out some of the pictures. Some were attractive, but it was all too depressing. She closed the document, and sat for a moment in silence. Looking for something to cheer her up, Annie pulled open the desk drawer and retrieved a small object. It was a Velcro tether, made by Joey and Tricia, and used to keep Annie's and Joey's hands together for when they would fly. They used it nearly every night nowadays. Just the sight of it brought a surge of joy to her heart. She ran her fingers over the scratchy surface, and shuddered as she replayed the thrills of flying, floating, soaring, the world spinning and sliding around her, obeying her slightest whims. She loved the wind in her hair, the twists in her stomach, the freedom, and the sense of power that filled her body. It was the loving essence which permeated her, enabled her, and granted her greatest wish. Her heart started beating strongly in her chest as she thought of Joey and his love, his taste, his touch, and his desire for her. A single tear fell from her eye. She took a shuttering breath and wiped it away. She turned her chair and rolled to the patio door. She slid it open, and pushed herself over the threshold onto their small balcony. The cool early air enveloped her, refreshing her, and she inhaled deeply as she looked out over the morning sky. People often wondered why she, a handicapped person, would want to live so far from the ground, but she could never understand why people had a problem understanding. She wanted to live up high for the same reason anyone else wanted to, to see the sky, and to see the city from high. It was a beautiful and inspiring sight. She saw a small figure soaring in the sky far in the distance. It was dark, but left a trail of shining reflected and prismatic light in her wake. Annie smiled as she watched Snow Angel soaring over the city, looping and twisting and playing in the sky. She giggled, enjoying the sight. Snow Angel knew the joys of flying all too well, and she showed it. Annie felt a strong kinship to this strange woman. She never thought that she would ever be friends with a superhero, but now she had met several, and she discovered that just like regular people, there are some who she just clicked with and others she didn't. She and Snow Angel clicked, just like Tricia and Quantum Knight did. Quantum Knight ... Annie sighed at the thought of her. She was a nice enough woman, but she had taken Joey out for an evening some time ago and wound up sleeping with him. And Annie knew and understood that superheroes tended to do that, and Joey specifically needed to expand his horizons to understand his powers, but the thought still bothered her. Pangs of jealousy and pain bubbled up from her core, and she swallowed it back down, burying it deep inside her. She didn't want the pain to come up, or to reach Joey. She brought Joey back into her mind and heart, and calmed herself, drawing strength from his love. She smiled as she thought of mornings past, when it was just her and him, rolling in the bed laughing and giggling, tickling and making love. And when he came home from school they always reached for each other to go flying. She checked her watch, knowing that Joey was in school right now. She imagined him in his school, sitting in his classes and talking to his new friends. The pang of hurt returned as she remembered that fully half of them were girls. Young girls, girls still blossoming in their youth, girls with powers. Girls with working legs. Annie shook as the pain bubbled up, and she pressed the Velcro tether to her face, smelling the faint traces of his scent. She wrapped the tether about her wrist, and held it to her chest, pulling comfort from it. She then pushed her chair closer to the railing, and locked the wheels. The wind picked up slightly, and she felt the coolness of her tears turn icy in the breeze. She grabbed the railing with both hands and pulled, lifting herself on her strong arms out of the chair and onto the railing. She leaned forward slightly, carefully, and always certain to keep her center of balance far on the safe side of the railing. The cold wind blew stronger, and she inhaled deeply and relished the pleasure as the wind blew through her long, black hair, as it always did when she and Joey soared the skies. ------- When Tricia dropped Joey off at school, they kissed each other on the cheek and she watched him as he met up with Simon, the one on crutches. She waited and watched him enter the school, and then pulled back into traffic, heading towards the homeless shelter. When she reached the shelter, she pulled out her camera bag, checked the contents, and closed the bag. She missed having a cameraman. It was too bad Gus was so lousy at it. She slung her purse and the camera bag over her shoulder, and closed the door. As the door closed, she caught her reflection in the window. Frumpy, average, fat. She knew the curve of the glass distorted her image, but she looked down at the over-sized bulky top she wore and noted that curved windows were not the only thing that could distort her image. She opened the back door of her car. The box with the costumes lay in there nestled in a pile of empty fast food containers. Tricia hesitated, staring at the box, and then reached in to pull it out of her car. She pulled it to the edge, and stopped. Curiosity and desire flared inside her. She thought about the sexy costume inside, and ran her tongue over her lips. She opened the box to take another look at it. The costume was quite beautiful actually. Very sexy, very alluring. She opened the plastic and felt the smooth fabric, and imagined it on her form, wrapping tightly around her body, pushing her breasts together to make a powerful cleavage, and showing off her legs barely hidden behind a beguiling pair of fishnet stockings. She saw herself in the costume, posing, striding, and parading. Men would stare at her in lust, women in jealousy. She imagined the eyes over her body, burning, desiring, probing, invading. She found herself slowly tracing small circles over the soft fabric with her finger. She inhaled and drew strength. Matilda's plans required her to tone down the sexiness, to make it look like she was a responsible parent. She could still be attractive, but the overt seductive vixen image had to go. This is what she had to do to keep Joey in her life. The costume had to go. She stared at the costume some more. She wanted it. So she reached inside the box, took the French monstrosity out, and shut the door. She then marched to the homeless shelter with the ugly costume under her arm, and the sexy Italian one left in the back seat of her car. ------- Chapter 4: Peanut Butter and Schooling Crystal McKnight quietly crept out of his bedroom, tip-toed through the living room, and headed towards his kitchen. It was still dark inside the apartment, but there was enough of the bright morning light seeping through the heavy curtains for her to make her way through his man-cave. The twenty-year old girl was clad only in a large men's dress shirt that draped like a tent over her nude body. The shirt still smelled of him, and she luxuriated in the drench of his scent. Her bare legs trembled and her hips shifted oddly as she walked, her body still adjusting to the savage reaming she had just enjoyed for the last few hours. Nobody back home is going to believe this, she said to herself. She could hardly believe it herself. She grinned in pride and hugged her arms around her, squeezing more of the musky manly scent out of the shirt. What a man! She slipped into the kitchen, looked in the refrigerator, and then around the cupboards for some coffee. She glanced at the clock. It was after eight in the morning. She wasn't worried. Her next class wasn't until ten-thirty. She felt strange, realizing the odd juxtaposition of her being in HIS apartment, HIS kitchen, after a long passionate night of being in HIS bedroom, with HIS cock stuffed up her little kitten, of HIM sending her through orgasm after orgasm, and now she was wondering if she could make it to her Economics class? These things just did not go together. She found a can of Diet Coke and a jar of peanut butter. She pulled a spoon from the drawer, scooped up a wad of peanut butter, and licked it sensuously as she sipped the soda and wandered back to the living room. She frowned, and headed towards the front door, but stopped when she realized that the knocking wasn't coming from there. She looked through the peephole just to make sure. Nope. No one was there. She turned and looked about the apartment, trying to figure out where the sound came from. The balcony? She made her way to the window and opened the curtains. The bright sunlight blinded her momentarily, and when her eyes adjusted, she blinked in disbelief as she saw the young green girl floating outside the balcony door. Her jaw dropped. The floating girl at first looked disappointed at the sight of Crystal, but she then smiled to her and waved cutely. "Can I come in?" she called. "Um..." It took her a moment for her brain to engage, and she opened the patio door and stepped back. The girl floated into the room. "Hiiii! I'm Snow Angel! Is he in?" she asked. Crystal blinked. That's two I've met now, she thought to herself. Her eyes scanned the superhero down and up. She had heard of Snow Angel before, and had seen pictures of her, but had no idea the heroine was so short. Or young. She was still a teenager. She nodded. "Um, yes." There was an awkward moment of silence. The superhero was watching her expectantly, and occasionally glancing down at her body, checking her out. She saw Snow Angel's eyebrows bounce in admiration as she peeked at Crystal's bare legs. Crystal tried to casually hide her legs by crossing one in front of the other. "Well, can I see him?" the superhero asked, breaking the silence. "Oh. Um, ... Let me ... Let me get him." She stumbled back nervously, and headed towards the bedroom, watching the floating emerald sorceress continuously, and she nearly tripped as she stubbed her toe against a table. Snow Angel giggled to herself and she bobbed in mid-air. She reached the door, and wondered if she should knock first, but then she remembered that SHE was just sleeping in there. It felt kind of silly for her to knock. She opened the door and crept inside. "Um..." She hesitated, not knowing what to call him yet. Honey? Sweetheart? Dear? Lover? It had only been one night. "Bullwhip?" The large African-American man stirred under the covers. His dark eyes opened, and focused on her. She pointed to the living room. "Snow Angel is here?" He digested this, and nodded. Bullwhip then sat up, the covers slipping off his nude, well-defined frame. Crystal's eyes dropped down over his massive and tight muscles. She swallowed as she felt her legs shake. "Is it an emergency?" he asked in his rich baritone voice. Her mouth dropped open in surprise. She didn't know. She blamed herself for not asking such an important question. But then, it didn't appear to be an emergency. "I don't think so," she settled on. He nodded again, stood up, and reached for his robe. Her eyes immediately dropped down to his large, thick, dangling penis. Even flaccid it was impressive, and her knees weakened at the sight. It distracted her entirely as his robe wrapped around him all by itself. Crystal reverently slipped out of his way as he walked past her to meet the other superhero. She watched them with fascination as they met. Before last night, she had never even met a superhero. Now after being seriously fucked by one, she was seeing first-hand two of them interacting. Their eyes locked, and Bullwhip nodded to the sorceress. Snow Angel gazed at him intensely. "Snow. 'Sup?" he said. She lifted a finger and the tip glowed green. Crystal startled, and watched the girl as she traced a small glowing circle in the air before her face, and inscribed it with floating green magical glyphs. Bullwhip frowned. "I don't know magic, but even I recognize that spell. Are you..." "Uh-huh," she answered. The circle flared and she peered through the circle at him. "And you're not the guy," she said with a mild level of disappointment. "I could have told you that," he answered. "How are you feeling?" She wiped the circle away with a wave of her hand. "The usual," she answered with more than a hint of frustration. She cocked one eyebrow up as she considered him. "How much energy have you got?" He smiled slyly, and he nodded his head towards Crystal. "This little lady wore me out all night. Could use a boost." Crystal dropped her jaw again, and blushed. "Um, sorry. Listen." As she said this, the two superheroes turned their heads and watched her. She suddenly felt extremely awkward, first for having the audacity to ask two superheroes for both of their attentions, and then actually getting it. "I, um ... If you two need to go save the city of something, I can let myself out." Bullwhip gave a furtive grin, but Snow Angel smiled broadly. And she sparkled. She literally sparkled with new glints of refracted light twinkling over her. The sorceress sensuously lifted her arms up over her head, stretching her lithe body and bobbing higher in the air. She moaned in her morning stretch, and started glowing. Green waves of energy throbbed from her form, flowing from her heart and traveling across her body and limbs in ripples that blossomed and evaporated as they passed the tips of her fingers and toes. The waves emitted a soft, pulsing hum which grew louder with each passing second. Crystal took a nervous step back. She glanced at Bullwhip, and watched him as he flexed his fingers and tilted his head, stretching his neck. The thick muscles in his neck strained and she heard his spine crack with the release of morning stiffness. He spread his feet a bit, flexed his knees slightly. His muscled body tensed and braced. His robe also seemed to ripple and move on its own accord. And she could hear him breathing deeper, filling his lungs with air in preparation for something strenuous. She took another step back. Snow Angel drew her arms inward, clasped her hands together, and strained. A power built within her, and she released it. As she threw her arms outward, a massive wave of green energy flooded the room, followed by a chilled breeze that cooled Crystal's bare legs, Snowflakes erupted from the sorceresses back, forming the outlines of two great seraphic wings. They flapped behind her, stirring the cold air about the apartment. The air tinkled with the sound of frozen chimes. Crystal's mouth dropped open again. She backed against the wall and dropped her Coke and spoonful of peanut butter. "HEE-YAA!" Snow Angel suddenly did a quick maneuver where she curled up in a fetal position, pitched backward, upside-down, and forward, and stretched out again. Like an Olympic swimmer flipping in a lap, she pushed both feet against the wall and hurled herself towards the behemoth man, screaming in a violent rage as she tackled him. Crystal shrieked with terror and her heart lurched as she watched the pixie-like 95 pound girl slam into 300 pounds of roaring man-mountain that was her lover. There was an explosion of snow, and she ducked and saw the tiny sorceress throw the massive man back and out of the room. Her brain flipped upside-down as she processed it. It was like watching Tinker-Bell play professional football, slamming into a defensive lineman, and winning. Roaring and screaming, ripping and thrashing sounds emitted from the bedroom. She could see bits of blue and green fabric, torn pieces from Snow Angel's costume fluttering and falling. She ran after them, her heart pounding and her stomach twisting in fright. Bullwhip! What was she doing to him? He was strong and passionate, but he was so kind to her, so gentle. She had no idea what Snow Angel was so angry about, but she had to stop her. He just didn't deserve to be... That was a far as she got in her thoughts, because at that moment she saw what they were really doing. They were having sex. It was rough, violent, wrestling sex. She had thrown him on the bed, but the massive man quickly grabbed the pixie girl and twisted her around and smashed her against the mattress. His robe was gone, and so was most of her costume. Snow Angel's tight bodysuit was reduced to shreds of cloth, leaving her mostly naked from her shoulders to her thighs, but her arms and legs were still clothed. He was growling and roaring, a naked beast savagely attacking a waif of a girl while she shrieked and wailed under him. Snow and green energy blossomed from her, while the sheets and blankets rippled with life and wrapped about the young girl's limbs, pinning her down and spreading her legs open. Crystal's eyes locked on Bullwhip's massive erection, and she gasped at the sight of it. She could hardly believe it the first time she saw it, it was so fucking huge. It was just last night that he carefully guided it into her love canal, cautiously working the lubrication, gently coaxing her to relax her muscles until he managed to fill her being with that tower of meat. Her legs still trembled at the memory. But this girl, this emerald-toned sorceress was still a teenager, and there was nothing careful about this. His colossal organ swayed and bounced over her abdomen, easily spanning the distance from her labia to past her navel. And the width, the girth of this battering ram was as thick as her arm. There was no way it would fit inside this girl. "IN! IN! IN! IN!" Snow Angel shrieked and pleaded, and Bullwhip grabbed her breast with one hand while she took a step back. Holding his monstrous cock in the other hand, he lined his fat cock-head up against her lips and rubbed it up and down her opening. Crystal shook her head in disbelief, and leaned against the wall. Her legs were going weak with desire again, and her heart pounded furiously in her chest as she watched the erotic assault. There was no way it would fit inside her. No way. "Damn, bitch!" Bullwhip growled. "You're always so wet." "Please! In! Put it ... IN!" she pleaded. "Been so long! Stick that FAT COCK INSIDE M..." Bullwhip roared and shoved, and Snow Angel's body arched. She threw her head back and screamed a loud, throaty "YESSSS!!" Her eyes practically bugged out as he impaled her tight frame with his immense hard cock. It was only a couple of inches inside her, but the young girl screamed and thrashed on the bed, fighting the sheets that pinned her down. Crystal gasped and slowly sank to the floor, sliding against the wall, her eyes riveted on them as she watched the two heroes fuck. Nobody is going to believe this. Nobody. She blindly reached for her purse. Snow Angel was screaming and laughing as she whipped her head back and forth, twisting her body and hips, and Bullwhip dropped down over her, pushing his massive rod deeper into her. "God DAMN you're tight!" he growled. "Gonna fuck you up GOOD!" "GOD I missed this!" she wailed in response, shaking and writhing under his body. "FUCK ME! FUCK ME HARD!" He lowered his head down, and kissed her hard, snaking his tongue into her mouth. Snow Angel moaned as she sucked his tongue, being filled from his body from two directions at once. Crystal watched them, and she quietly and carefully pulled her cell phone out of her purse. She pointed it to the two heroes and pressed the camera button. FWOOSH! SMACK! "AAACKK!" The snowball came out of nowhere and knocked the camera-phone out of Crystal's hand. Snow Angel was staring at the girl seriously. "Hey!" she scolded. "No pictures!" Crystal blinked and blushed. "Um, I'm sorry. I..." "You can watch if you want!" she continued. "Or you can join us! I kind of prefer that." Crystal shuddered and stared at the two in shocked silence. Snow Angel groaned. "Bull, could you?" Bullwhip grabbed a blanket by the corner and flipped it. It lashed out across the room and whipped around the girl, yanking her from her feet. Crystal screamed as the living cloth twisted about her and pulled her to the bed. She landed on her knees, squatting in front of Bullwhip and over Snow Angel's head. The blanket whipped off her and the massive man grabbed her roughly by the arms. She shrieked, and the large shirt she wore ripped open by itself, exposing her naked body to both of the superheroes. As Bullwhip leaned down and took one breast in his mouth, she felt two cold hands wrap over her thighs and pull her down and forward. Crystal shrieked and jumped as a chilled tongue licked the length of her kitty. She tensed her body and grabbed Bullwhip's head. "WAIT! STOP! I..." she tried to scream. An oozing essence flowed into her from down below. A green energy, loving, healing, cooling, and fulfilling swept into her body. She twinged and gasped, and the essence filled her. Tingling, sparking, rejuvenating, she felt her heart beat faster. Her lungs filled with cool refreshing air, and she had the distinct impression that she could taste mint from her kitty. Her body tensed with a wave of energy, and her fingers and toes stretched with desire. "I ... I ... Oh ... OH!" Bullwhip thrust his hips forward in long powerful strokes, filling and emptying the superheroine. With each stroke, Snow Angel moaned loudly and plunged her tongue deep inside her kitty, and Crystal rolled her eyes back with her head as she gasped and ground her hips against the girls' cool head. Gone was the initial shock, and all that existed now was pleasure and desire. An endless supply of pleasure, and the endless demand of desire. She had a brief curiosity about the effect of limitless supply and demand, and concluded to tell her economics class to go fuck itself. She pulled Bullwhips' head up from her breast and kissed him hard, licking his tongue while humping her kitty hard against Snow Angel's mouth, urging them both to go faster and harder. ------- Sparks boiled off Joey's hands in huge plumes, and he strained and grimaced, pushing the power out of his body. He grunted and gasped, forcing himself, driving the energy forward. Simon Riley, a thin boy of fourteen with Cerebral Palsy, stood three feet in front of him, propped up on his crutches. He was Joey's target. "Come on, Joey. You can do it," Simon encouraged. Joey's hands were shaking, and he was sweating with exertion. He could feel the power building and flowing, and spilling uselessly. It was getting out, but the connection was evading him. "It's not ... working," he gasped. "Maybe you need to kiss your boyfriend," quipped Neil. "Shut up, Neil," Joey barked. "That's enough," Mr. Burgess snapped. "Concentrate, Joey." Joey redoubled his efforts. The Omegaplasm surged and the sparks blossomed. He was aware of every eye in the gymnasium on him. He was the new kid, the one with the weird powers that nobody understood. He was the one who could not be classified: Not a Mutant, not a Science mutate, nor a Mage nor a Cosmic. He could see them all watching him, and he stood there, straining, pushing, his hands shaking, and everyone watched him being completely inept at doing anything. It was humiliating. He glanced over at Lynne. He saw her watching him with the same expectation and intensity that everyone else had. Failing in front of her seemed to make it all that much worse. The power fluctuated and fell, and Joey dropped his hands in exhaustion, bent down, and braced himself on his knees as he hyperventilated and swayed with dizziness. Simon took a few steps towards him. "Good try, Joey." Neil scoffed. "Was THAT it? When are we going to see him DO anything? Do you even HAVE powers?" Mr. Burgess reviewed the recording on the tripod-mounted camera. "So, Joey. What happened? What did you feel?" Joey carefully made his way back to the floor mats and sat down in his spot next to Jeff. "I um ... I couldn't feel him. I couldn't..." He glanced at Neil, and saw the red-haired jerk just waiting for him to say something even remotely gay-sounding. He decided to stop talking before saying he couldn't get inside Simon. "It just wasn't working." "Couldn't get it up for him?" Neil spat and giggled stupidly. "Oh, grow up, Neil," said Lynne, who sat next to her brother Jeff. Lynne Sullivan was a very attractive and curvaceous girl. She was pale and dark-haired like her brother, but she was down-right tan compared to the girl sitting on the other side of her. Sarah was ghost white, an albino, and she was wrapped in black clothes and wore dark glasses and a large black hat. She was the only one of their group not wearing normal gym clothes. Sarah sat with a notebook in her lap and she scribbled in it furiously, rocking forward and backward in an obsessive rhythm. Lynne turned to her. "Don't write down what he says!" she told her. "He's not worth it." Sarah looked up and then at Neil. She then turned back to her notebook and sternly scratched something out. "The good news," Mr. Burgess said, "is that I can tell you are reaching him. The power is hitting him. So it's just not making the final connection. But you're making progress. You're developing range. Good work, Joey." Joey smiled. "Thanks." "Neil! You're next." Mr. Burgess called out. "All right!" he exclaimed, and he jumped up and onto the center mat. As Mr. Burgess brought out a large loop of grounding wire, Simon took a chair next to Joey. "That was pretty good, Joey," said Simon. "You know, I almost felt something at one point." Joey looked up in surprise. "Really?" He shook his head. "Nah. But I like to be encouraging." He grinned. Joey laughed. "Shut up," he joked to his friend, and as Neil and Mr. Burgess worked with the ground wire, he looked out across the gymnasium to the activities on the other side. The students over there all had close-range physical powers, not long-ranged ones like his group. Raquel caught his attention first. The tall African-American girl with the weird splotchy birthmarks was in a tight leotard which showed off her nice curves, and she was running, jumping, bouncing, and flipping on the exercise mats. She bounced unnaturally high on her hands and feet, propelled by her mutant ability to reflect energy. On another mat Kaelyn, an Australian exchange student with cat-like features rolled and tumbled in a combat practice, her long furry tail whipping about wildly. "RRAARRGG!!" The yell came from Clyde, also across the room. He was huge again, his muscles stretching his tight shirt as his body expanded with new strength. He was power-lifting heavy weights, well into three hundred pounds. Joey rolled his eyes at the yell. He only did that for attention. Next to him was Brandon, one of his gang, a short blond kid. Brandon was on a treadmill and running at an insane speed, his legs a blur of motion. The grounding wire was set in a loop, and as Neil took his place in the middle, Mr. Burgess hobbled over to set up a target. It was a large empty metal can set on top of a wooden table. Joey noticed Mr. Burgess' one artificial leg, and wondered once more how he had lost his leg. It was a story their teacher hadn't told them yet. "Okay!" Mr. Burgess said. "Start easy, and let's see if you can..." BBZZAAAPP-CRACKLE! Neil postured with his palms opened wide and lightning exploded and rippled over his body. Bolts and arcs extended out and warped around, and were absorbed into the grounding loop. Everyone on the mat jolted at the sudden surge of power, especially Sarah, who loudly shrieked in fear. "MISTER MARKS!" Mr. Burgess shouted at Neil. "I SAID TO..." "I got this!" Neil boasted, and he threw his hand forward, pointing towards the target can. His hair stood up straight, extended by the static electricity, and large arcs of lightning blasted out of his hand. The bolts of lightning flew wildly, looping around the table and scorching the floor and wall behind it. Large arcs were sucked into the grounding wire. Simon, sitting next to Joey, groaned and held his head. "You okay Simon?" Joey asked. "Yeah," he muttered. "He knows the electro-magnetic field bothers me, so that's why he does it. I'll be okay." Neil continued his little performance, jumping from one extreme combat stance to another, alternately pushing one hand forward and then another, and sending streams of lighting from his fingers out towards his target. The lightning danced and wavered about, burning the table. Joey watched the performance and frowned. He leaned over to Jeff. "Jeff, has he hit that thing yet?" Jeff appeared momentarily distracted, apparently listening in to whatever Lynne was whispering to Sarah. "What?" "Has he hit that can yet?" "Oh, um, no. Don't think he's going to." He squinted at the scene. "My money is on the can." Joey chuckled as Mr. Burgess blew his whistle, stopping Neal. As the lightning died down, Mr. Burgess walked up to the can and picked it up. "You know, this is still cold. Neal, what are you doing?" "It's not MY fault! Joey and Jeff are distracting me! They keep making jokes about me." "Stop acting like a joke, and we'll stop making them..." Joey mumbled to Jeff. Jeff snickered under his breath. So did Lynne, who apparently heard him. She smiled at him. His heart stirred at the sight. "Stop it, you two," Mr. Burgess called to Joey and Jeff. He turned his attention to Neil. "Neil, it's not a dance. You're not trying to impress it. You're trying to hit it. I know you like those comic-book poses, but they don't work. How are you supposed to hold your hand?" Neil grumbled and didn't answer. He lifted one hand up with his fingers cupped. "And how WERE you holding you hand?" He shifted and grumbled some more. He spread his fingers. "Right." Mr. Burgess stepped behind Neil and grabbed his arm, pointing him towards the target. He also grabbed his stomach and pulled him so he stopped slumping and stood up straight. "Stand straight. Brace yourself. Fingers together. Channel the power from your core, through your arm, and out the base of your palm. With your fingers apart, the energy gets diverted in every direction. Push your fingers together, and guide the power AFTER it's left your hand, not as it leaves. Got it?" "Yeah, I got it, " he said with an annoyed tone. "Good." The teacher released him and stepped away. The moment he stepped back, Neil slumped down again. "Stand up straight, and try again." Neil continued to slump in defiance, but held his fingers cupped together. He concentrated. BLAM! The arc of lightning shot out and hit the can, blasting it off the table. Neil flipped back and landed on his butt. Everyone sitting on the mat burst out laughing. Neil growled and sneered at the others, and was about to shout at them, but Mr. Burgess stepped up to him. "Neil? Why do we brace ourselves?" He groaned. "For every action..." he started to recite. "There is an equal and opposite reaction.," Mr. Burgess finished. "Very good. You hit your target today. Remember your physics, and don't practice at home. Sarah, you're next." As Neil slumped up and over to the side, Mr. Burgess pulled the grounding wire up. Sarah furiously scribbled a few more lines in her notebook and rocked a little faster as she wrote. "Sarah! Put it down! Up!" he called out a second time. Lynne carefully reached over to Sarah and took the book. "I'll take care of it. Go ahead," she said, closing the book and taking her pen. Sarah looked about nervously, clawed the air with her now empty hand, and stood up. She shyly walked towards the exercise mat. "And what have you been working on?" Mr. Burgess asked her. "Um," she began quietly. " I've been doing ... the tendril ... with the ... thing..." Her voice was very meek, and she writhed her hands together and darted her head back and forth, looking around. "Can I have my book, please?" "Later," Mr. Burgess promised. He set a rubber ball on the mat and stepped back. Sarah nervously looked around, and her hand dropped to her side. "Now what I want you to do is to summon a tendril..." he continued. "and pick up the ball." Joey noticed her fingers moving in odd patterns, and a glowing white energy tracing the air from her fingertips. Mr. Burgess noticed too. "Sarah, don't start yet." "I'm not," she defended. "SARAH!" the teacher shouted, and he pointed to her hand. Sarah looked down at her hand and saw the glyphs and symbols which hung in the air by her thigh. They flashed and exploded with a loud BAM! It was like a very loud balloon popping next to her. Sarah screeched, jumped, and ran a few feet while Neil laughed uproariously at the sight. "Neil! Cut it out!" Mr. Burgess shouted. "But that was funny!" he shouted back. Sarah was holding her hands together and rocking back and forth. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she pleaded. "I didn't know I was ... I'm sorry." "Are you okay?" the teacher asked. She nodded. "Yeah. I just ... I'm sorry." "Come on back." Joey watched her return to the exercise mat and take her place, rocking and writhing her hands together. She was an odd girl. Joey used to think that his lot in life was pretty bad, being an orphan, being homeless, and having these powers that he couldn't control. But the day he met Sarah Moonglow Abercrombie and learned about her problems, he decided to never pity himself again, no matter how bad it got. Sarah was a mage, a sorceress, one of only two in the school of about sixty students (the other being Willow Booth), and along with being very skittish and an albino which made her hyper-sensitive to light, she also suffered from an obsessive compulsion disorder. It was called 'hypergraphia', which was a term he had to look up several times just in order to remember the word. Sarah had to write constantly. She could not stop. She kept a book and pen with her at all times and wrote all the time, copying conversations word-for-word and scribbling down every last thought that entered her head. Sometimes she would draw arcane symbols and diagrams that never made any sense to anyone, even Willow, but the notebook was her lifeline. Without it, she would still write, but just write in the air, without even thinking about it or noticing it. Normally this would not be a problem, but considering that she was a mage, and mages cast spells by writing in the air, it proved to be a dangerous combination. Mr. Burgess coached her, and stood back, allowing Sarah to perform. She took several steadying breaths and concentrated, pointing one finger at the rubber ball and writing with the other hand. Faint symbols glowed and floated in the air before her as she meekly scratched them out. "Bolder," Mr. Burgess encouraged her. "Be more impressive. It's a performance, remember?" "Hey!" Neil said. "How come she gets to be impressive and I have to do things boring?" "It's magic," the teacher answered. "Different physics. Mutations don't care about theatrics. Magic does." A slight breeze emitted from Sarah's position, blowing her loose black clothes. Joey watched them as they rippled over her slender body. He could finally make out her shape underneath her drab clothes. She didn't have the full curves that Lynne had, but he could definitely tell she was a blossoming girl. Her young breasts fascinated him. Her long platinum blond hair billowed out, and the air tinkled with the faint sounds of bells as the magic built in her. Her finger glowed, and a long white tendril of energy extended outward and snaked in the air, slowly moving towards the rubber ball. She squinted and drew more symbols. The tendril gently batted the ball, and wrapped itself around the toy, lifting it upward. Sarah allowed herself a brilliant smile, which was a rare and beautiful sight. She giggled in excitement. "VERY good!" Mr. Burgess praised her. "Now, release." She wiped her hand over the floating symbols, and the tendril vanished. The ball dropped and bounced on the mat. She clasped her hands together and swayed in joy. She practiced the spell a couple more times, repeating the process of casting and guiding the tendril, sometimes picking up the ball, and sometimes missing it, until the bell rang, signaling the end of the period. Everyone stood up. "Good work everyone!" Mr. Burgess called out. "And I'll see you tomorrow." Joey, Simon, and Jeff started heading towards the boy's locker room, while Sarah and Lynne walked to the other side of the gym towards the girl's locker room, talking. Neil followed the girls, heading towards Clyde and Brandon. Simon eyed Sarah. "You know, I just now noticed that Sarah has a nice body." He grinned and turned to Joey. "Do you think if I told her that, she would hold it against me?" Joey groaned and laughed. "That was awful!" Brandon suddenly zipped past them, running a good thirty to forty miles an hour. He slapped into the concrete wall, bracing himself with his hands, turned, and ran into the locker room. "But seriously," Simon continued. "She shouldn't wear all of that bulky stuff. She looks nice. Jeff, you should get Lynne to tell her to dress nicely." Jeff was startled out of his thoughts. "What? Um, I did tell her that." Joey and Simon stared at him. "You did?" Joey asked. Jeff looked a little confused. "Yeah, um ... Lynne. I asked her to get Sarah to try some new clothes. Sarah wasn't interested." Brandon shot out of the locker room and ran past them again. "She said it was the light," Jeff continued. "She needs to protect her skin." Simon stopped and turned, watching Brandon. He saw the short speedster run up to Clyde and Neil, and talk to them. Clyde was noticeably smaller now, having lost about fifty pounds of muscle in the past few minutes, but he was still a fairly big kid. Sarah and Lynne were still walking together towards the girl's locker room, and were getting closer to Clyde and his gang. "Guys," Simon said. "We have a problem." Joey and Jeff turned and saw Simon watching the three boys across the room. They were walking towards the two girls. "BOO!" "AAAH!" "AAAIIEE!!" It only took two seconds, but in those two seconds a lot happened. Clyde had suddenly surged towards Sarah and violently screamed at her. She naturally screamed in response, and her magical knack kicked in. She turned wraith-like, unsolid. It was her one ability she could do without having to cast a spell for it. She tended to do this when she was startled severely. Unfortunately, this ability did not extend to anything else, and everything she was wearing fell straight through her. Hat, glasses, hair pins, clothes, underwear, notebook, everything fell to the ground, leaving Sarah stark naked in the gymnasium. She screamed and tried to cover herself up with her hands, and then ran through the wall into the locker room, screaming and crying. Clyde, Neil, and Brandon were laughing uproariously. "I got her!" Brandon yelled out, brandishing the camera-phone and handing it to Clyde. "Oh, shit!" Joey cursed, and he stormed over across the room, followed by Jeff. Simon hobbled over as fast as he could. Lynne was in a fury, and she screamed at the big Korean boy. "Clyde! Oh, THAT was really classy! Scaring a timid girl? I bet that took a lot of balls!" She gestured to the pile of clothes on the floor. The clothing and notebook all suddenly swirled up into the air, folded themselves, and arranged themselves into her reach. Clyde was laughing. "What do you care? You wanted to see her naked too, you lez! That was too good!" Neil slapped his hand. Lynne slapped Clyde hard in the face. Clyde looked fearful for the barest of seconds, and then he raised one big meaty fist at the girl. "You fucking little cunt!" he belched, and he swung his fist at her. WHOOOMP! His fist missed her because he suddenly flew backwards. Jeff was standing behind his twin sister, his hand raised with a cupped palm pointed towards the bully, and Clyde smashed against the gymnasium wall and fell to the floor. Jeff stared him down as the bully stood up again. "Don't touch my sister." Clyde growled at Jeff. "Yeah, I know. You want her all for yourself, don't you?" Jeff and Lynne looked shocked. Clyde smiled. "Yeah, I know all about you two." Lynne stormed off to the girl's locker room, carrying Sarah's clothes while Jeff regained his composure. "What is going on here?" Mr. Burgess called out, finally emerging from his office. He stormed over to the boys. "Nothing," Neil said. "Clyde scared Sarah into going ghost again," said Joey. "And he's got a picture of her on his cell phone. Brandon took the picture." The three bullies glared at Joey. "Shut up, you!" Brandon yelled. Mr. Burgess looked at the other boys. "That true?" he asked. Jeff and Simon nodded and said "Yes sir," while the other three boys lied. "No." "No, sir." "I don't know what he's talking about." Raquel came storming out of the girl's locker room. "CLYDE!" she bellowed. "What the FUCK you think you doing!" "That's enough, Miss Rose," Mr. Burgess said as he could hear Sarah crying from inside the girl's locker room. "Go get changed," he continued, and he snapped his fingers at Clyde. "Hand it over, Mr. Gangjeon." Clyde had already pushed his cell phone into his pants, and held his empty hands open. "I don't have one! I'm not supposed to bring it to class. Your rule, and I follow it." He grinned smugly. Mr. Burgess sighed. Simon stared at Clyde, and concentrated. FFFFSSSSS! There was a hissing sound, and Clyde suddenly jumped as smoke poured out of the back of his pants. "AAHH!" He screamed, yanked the smoldering phone out of his pants, and dropped it to the floor. "God damn you, Simon!" he yelled at him. "You burned out my phone!" And he lunged towards the handicapped boy. Joey stepped in the way, blocking him. "Oh yeah, go ahead! Scare a nervous girl and attack the handicapped. Good job. That's impressive." "Just add toast, juice, and milk, and that makes a complete breakfast for you, doesn't it?" quipped Simon. Mr. Burgess grabbed Clyde and pulled him back. "Simon! Did you burn his phone?" Simon nodded. "Yes sir, I did!" he said proudly. "Had to. He had a picture of a naked fourteen year old girl on it, which I think technically is child pornography. And as much as I would have liked you to see it so Clyde could be arrested and charged for life as a sex offender, I know that Sarah wouldn't want anyone to see it." He stared at Clyde. "So I just saved your ass, Clyde. You owe me." "You, you, and you!" Mr Burgess pointed to Brandon, Clyde, and Simon. "My office. Now! The rest of you, get ready for your next class." As Mr. Burgess led the three boys away, Jeff and Joey watched and found themselves alone with Neil. He glared at them, and slimed up to Joey. "You know, we're not afraid of you. Omega BOY." He snickered stupidly. Joey nodded. "I know." He let the words hang in the air for a moment. "But then, I haven't tried to scare you yet." And he and Jeff headed for the locker room to change. ------- Simon missed his next period class, and met up with Joey during lunch. During the last period the small school's multi-purpose room was converted from the gym into a dining area. Joey carried his bagged lunch and Simon's tray from the lunch line and they found a spot together. "So, you get into trouble?" Simon shrugged. "A little. We all got detention, but they got more than I got. But I have to buy a new phone for Clyde." He sat and set his crutches aside. " I don't know where I'm going to get that money." "Don't worry about it." Joey said. "I got it." "No, you don't have to. My mom will..." "I got this," Joey said. "I've got the money. And if I had your power, I would have fried his electronics too. You did the right thing. I don't why they're punishing you." He took a bite of his peanut-butter sandwich. "You didn't see the picture, did you?" Simon smiled and shook his head. "Nah. I could feel the data, but can't read digital images that well. Analog audio is about all I can handle now. It's just too bad everything is switching to digital." He took a bite and thought. "Not that I would have looked if I could." "No. Absolutely not." Joey agreed, shaking his head. "That would be wrong." "Uh huh." "Completely unethical," Simon added. "You said it." "And besides, they were right there in front of us," he chuckled. Joey hung his head down and shook in quiet laughter. "And they were nice too. Oh god, we're awful. She did not deserve that." Simon grinned. "I have to tell you. This is the weirdest school I've ever been in. I mean, we have homework and bullies like any other school, but other schools don't have students with their own personal sets of physics." Joey took a swallow of soda and scanned the room. It did look like any other school, with kids talking and yelling and eating and laughing. Most of the students were natural born mutants, with a few mutated from strange exposures to various energies or chemicals. He could see Willow and Raquel at another table, talking animatedly to their friends. Kaelyn's tail twitched erratically as she glanced in his direction, briefly making eye contact with him. His eyes drifted over to another table where he saw Jeff and Lynne sit together preparing to eat. He watched them curiously. They usually sat together, but alone. They just didn't fit in with others that much. And their movements were odd, occasionally synchronized, both picking up a fork or a milk carton at the same time. Something about them creeped him out. They never spoke to each other, and rarely even looked at each other. They were always together, but never acted like they even liked each other. Jeff was a fairly handsome guy, Joey had to admit, with strong features and build, and always wore fairly stylish clothes, a bit metro-sexual. But his good looks were nothing compared to Lynne's stark beauty. Joey's eyes naturally gravitated to Lynne, first exploring her long wavy black hair, her beautiful flawless face, her dark eyes, and then moved down to her full captivating breasts. What is it about superpowers that does such wonderful things to a girl's figure? he wondered. A lot of the girls in the school were nicely built, but Lynne was drop-dead gorgeous. Joey found himself staring at her constantly. Simon noticed him watching Lynne. "She's single, you know." Joey chuckled. "I was just wondering about them," he said, gesturing to Jeff and Lynne. "They're probably real." Joey glanced at Simon and looked at him blankly. "Huh?" "Oh! You mean both of them!" He frowned. "I mean, the twins." He frowned again, and pointed. "Those two..." He groaned. "Those two whole human beings. Not just her boobs. Cause that's what I normally wonder about." Joey smiled. "Yeah. But Clyde said something strange. Something about how Jeff wants her all to himself. Do you know what he was talking about?" Simon sighed and leaned in closely. "Well, rumor has it..." Joey's eyes widened. "Jeff and Lynne?" he whispered. Simon nodded. "They were caught in a privacy room kissing last year." His stomach actually turned. "With his sister? Ugh." He didn't know what surprised him more, the accusation of incest, or the thought that Jeff may actually be straight. Simon shrugged. "Can you blame him? She had tits last year too. The teachers tried to separate them, putting them in different classes, but they both started failing everything. I think their A.D.D. gets worse when they're apart. So now they're together again, with the rest of us." Joey took another bite and looked around the room. By the phrase "the rest of us," Joey knew that Simon was referring to the remedial classes. He hated being in the remedial classes, but understood why he was there, having missed five years of school. All the students who were behind or had problems wound up there. Simon had Cerebral Palsy and other physical illnesses which made him miss school a lot. Sarah had O.C.D. Jeff and Lynne had A.D.D. Raquel was dyslexic, and Clyde had what the adults called "behavioral adjustment problems" which was just a technical way of saying he was an asshole. Simon watched him looking about. "So, have you picked her out yet?" "Who?" "The lucky girl. The one who gets to win the Dream Date with Omega Boy." Joey chuckled and shook his head. "No, I..." He sighed. "Did I tell you that Matilda brought in actual pictures of girls she wants me to date?" "Really? Are they pretty?" He nodded. "Yeah. They're movie stars. Dakota Fanning, the girl from the Narnia movies, and one more. I think she was in that movie with the time traveler." Simon chewed on this news. "And judging from your tone, having someone who picks out movie stars for you to date is ... a BAD thing? I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Can I have your life?" "It just feels weird. Matilda is only interested in getting some pictures, but if I'm going to go out with someone, I ... I don't know." "Is she going to PAY for this date too?" Joey nodded. "Probably. As a matter of fact, she would prefer that. It would be a business expense then." Simon opened his hands in a "well?" gesture. "So, go date a movie star!" He hesitated. "But I don't know what to ... I don't know ... talk about, or..." Simon slammed his hand on the table. "Fine! I'll DO it." Joey squinted at him. "I'll be your wing-man! Tell Matilda that you'll go out with a pretty movie-star ONLY IF she sets up a double-date with two of them and us. She's got three to choose from, so it's no problem for her. And I'll come with you. I will be by your side. I'll even let you pick out who's going out with who." Joey collapsed in a quiet laughter, burying his face in his palm. "Wait ... Whom," Simon corrected. "Who is going out with whom. Object of a preposition." Joey continued laughing. "I'll DO it!" Simon continued. "I will make this sacrifice for you, because I am your friend! And friends do this for each other! Do you think Dakota puts out?" "You just want to get laid." "Yes. I. Do." He slapped the table again. Joey controlled himself, and shook his head. "No. This is not happening." "Oh, come on! What's the problem?" Joey groaned and wondered about that. It was a question that had been perplexing him for a while. Pressure was coming in from all sides for him to go out with other women. Tricia was the first one, encouraging him to "expand his horizons" in order for him to explore his abilities. She was all for him sleeping with others. And although Annie never came out and said that she wanted him to sleep around, she never showed any disapproval either. And she was the one who first suggested a threesome. And Matilda was straight-out asking him to ask someone out. It would help in their image, which would help him to stay with Tricia and Annie. And then there was the whole superhero community; They all did each other. It had started with Sandy, who made out with him in order to help them all escape Desdemona's lair. She slept around and treated him like a superhero, so she fully expected him to sleep with other women as well. And Snow Angel actually flirted with him in the hospital a bit. Nothing had happened, as he was on the mend, but he was pretty sure she was showing some interest in him. And then there was their trip to the EarthGuard HQ, where Spectra made her intentions pretty clear, parading around in a sexier costume after she first met him. He wasn't so sure about Shadow Fire. She didn't come right out and flirt with him, but at one point she did look at him somewhat intensely as she said something like "All women look alike in the dark." He really didn't know how else to take that. But none of that could have prepared him for the Myer's Institute. From the first day he arrived he was surrounded by brand new sexy girls in a place that just encouraged sex. The institute had a surprising attitude towards sex. "Superpowers make you horny," their health teacher Mrs. Sands had said. She had gone into greater details about bodies processing energy, physical fitness, stimulation, and hormone levels, but it was that one line that got the entire class laughing. And as a school that specialized in teaching the proper care and use of superpowers, hordes of horny super-powered students was a serious problem they had to deal with. Some schools dealt with the problem by trying to control the student's sexual outlets, usually by separating them, using harsh punishments, sticking to a strict religion, or even resorting to depressive drugs. But the Myer's Institute took a more natural and enlightened approach. "Let them have sex," was the school's policy. They taught sex education, gave out condoms, prescribed birth control pills, gave regular and free health checks for anyone who was interested, and even provided "privacy rooms" for students to just fool around or masturbate in. Apparently it was easier for the school to deal with the occasional STD outbreak or teen pregnancy than death, dismemberment, and massive property damage that comes from an over-frustrated super-powered teen throwing a tantrum. What is the problem? he wondered. Given all the pressure, the opportunities, the environment, it should have been easy for him to pick up girls at any time. But something was holding him back. "I ... don't know," he finally answered. He tried to imagine himself on a date with a movie star, and drew a complete blank. He could only picture an uncomfortable evening filled with awkward silences and nervousness. "What would I talk about? What would I do? I don't know anything about movie stars." Simon chewed on this. "Well, you could ... ASK her about it." Joey shook his head. "Or if you would rather date a girl you have something in common with, you could ask one of THESE girls out." He gestured around them. "Matilda would still pay for it, right?" Joey chuckled and nodded, and looked about the room. There were a lot of pretty girls. Lot of boys too. He felt himself shrink back. The thought of actually approaching a girl and asking her out terrified him. "I don't think they're that interested in me," he finally said. Simon's jaw dropped. "You idiot," he said. Joey looked at him. Simon continued. "Do you have ANY idea how many girls in this school would want to go out with you? Look, I see it in them. Every time you walk past some giggle of girls they all stop talking and stare at you. I bet if you took this milk carton and walked it over to the trash, threw it out, and turned around and took a picture, you would see every girl in the school checking you out." Joey squinted in confusion. "You're kidding." "I'm not. I see it constantly. It's the Cassanova Effect. They've all seen Tricia and Annie, and they all think you're satisfying them with no problems, so they're interested." "But I'm not..." Joey tried to defend. "Yeah, right. You're sticking to your story, and I'm proud of you for that. But it doesn't matter. It's what THEY think." he said, pointing around the room. "They all think you must be fantastic in bed. And they're all wondering what it's like to get the Omega Touch." Joey thought about it for a moment, and glanced about the room. He caught the eyes of a couple girls who then glanced away from him the moment he looked at them. He turned and for a brief second locked eyes with Lynne. She smiled bashfully and turned to her food. A moment later Jeff looked up from his food and caught his eye. Joey looked back at his food as quickly as possible. "So ask her out," said Simon. "What's the worst that can happen?" "Umm ... I don't know. Maybe her overprotective brother will telekinetically throw me through a brick wall?" Simon glanced about, gauging the distance between Lynne and the nearest wall. "He'll have to throw you at least fifty feet. Plenty of time for her to say 'yes.'" Joey dropped his face into his hands and laughed and groaned at the same time. "Ugh! I can't do this!" "Why not?" He rubbed his face with his hands. "I don't know what to ... I just..." He groaned, pulled his hands away from his face, and leaned in to Simon. "I've never asked a girl out before," he whispered. Simon's jaw dropped again. "What?" "I said I've never..." "I heard you!" He shook his head in disbelief. "Joey. Have you seen your roommates? How did that happen?" He held his hands up defensively. "They picked me up. I didn't pick them up!" "Yeah, but you're living with them, you're close to them. You're doing ... who knows what with them. But suddenly now you're shy?" He blinked in amazement a couple of times. "Jesus Christ! Joey, how am I supposed to live vicariously through your sex life if you can't ask a girl out?" He pointed one finger at his friend. "You know, I'm going to Google that word, and if it means something that I don't like, I'm going to come back and kick your ass." "Do you need help asking Lynne out?" "Yes. I do." "Fine. I'm your wing-man, so let me come up with a plan." He thought for a few seconds. "Okay. Here's what you do. First, you hit me with that Omega power. Make me glow green." Joey blinked at his friend. "Green." "Bright green. Then, together we go over to the table. And when you've got her attention, and you will have her attention, because I will be green, you say to her... 'Excuse me. Lynne? As you can see, my friend here is radioactive ... Would you like to go out on a date with me?'" Joey stared at Simon for a full five seconds, stunned expressionless at the audacity of what he had just said, and finally blinked in absolute confusion. "What ... is that supposed to..." Simon raised one finger. "It is the age-old question. How much does a polar bear weigh?" Joey was silenced again. "Enough to break the ice!" Simon explained. "You're nuts." "Yes. Are you going to do it?" "Yes." Joey chugged down the last of his soda and stood up. "And I'm going to do it now, before I lose my..." He stopped, for at that moment he noticed Lynne had suddenly jumped up from her table and ran to the door, meeting Sarah. Sarah shuffled in despondently, wrapped in her black clothes and carrying her notebook in front of her, clinging to it. Lynne put her arm around the girl and walked her to the table. And even though Sarah was wearing dark glasses, Joey could tell she had been crying. "This can wait," he said, sitting back down. ------- The day stretched on, and Joey had pretty much lost his chance of asking Lynne out. Throughout the day he caught glimpses of her in the hallway or across a room, but she was always with her brother, or with Sarah. He never felt comfortable enough to ask her out when she was with someone else. Clyde was in a proud mood all day, laughing and bragging and scaring any kid who got too close to him or his posse. He wore his detention punishment like a badge of honor, and boasted about it to everyone, claiming it was totally worth it just to see Sarah naked again. At one point when Joey was watching him their eyes met, and Clyde's stupid smile vanished for the first time in the day. The bully scowled at him, and pointed a finger straight at him. " Fuck you, faggot!" he mouthed silently. " You're getting yours." Before the end of the school day, Joey called Tricia, asking her to not pick him up from school. The school wasn't too far away from their apartment, and he didn't mind the walk, but the reason he called her was he wanted to spend some time with Simon after school. Tricia reminded him to keep an eye out, and to call EarthGuard at the first sign of any trouble. As the final bell rang, and all of the students eagerly hit the lockers one last time, laughing, chatting, and emptying the school, Joey walked Simon to Detention, caught one last glimpse of Clyde and Brandon, and then headed for the library to wait. He did his homework, and pulled out his tablet computer to surf the web, draw some pictures, write to his father some more, and video-chat with Annie. She was happy to see him when he called her, and appeared a little disappointed that he wasn't coming straight home, but she put on a brave face and said it was good he was spending time with his new friends. An hour later Simon was released. Joey packed up, and together they headed out into the warm afternoon, walking the streets of Washington D.C. They joked about TV shows and movies, commented on girls as they passed them, and Simon once again tried to engage Joey's enthusiasm for Oriole's baseball. They were passing a side alley at one point when Joey looked in and stopped, scoping the alley out. "You know this place?" asked Simon. Joey nodded. "Yeah. Good place to find carpet remnants." Simon frowned. "What do you need those for?" He shook his head in reflection. "I don't. Not anymore." He turned to his friend. "Back when ... well, back then, I could use them to line a hole. Spots under a bridge, construction areas. I'd use it to keep warm. Made a nice door too." "Must have been rough being homeless." Joey shrugged. "Yeah." "But at least you didn't have any homework!" He laughed. "Yeah, but there was plenty to learn." He pointed to a dumpster in the alley. "I know all the garbage routes. Know their schedules by heart. That dumpster is full. It gets picked up tomorrow morning." "Was that one you would find stuff in?" "Yeah. Good stuff. Come on. I'll show you." Joey jogged down into the alley, dropped his backpack, and climbed up the side of the dumpster while Simon followed as quickly as he could on his crutches. As he pushed the lid open, Joey felt a strange familiar sense, a combination of hope and hopelessness. Opening a dumpster was like digging for treasure. He never knew what he could find useful, and he usually found something good, but it always reminded him of where he was. He scanned the trash with a critical eye, noting valuable remnants, intact and usable boxes, used papers, containers with a possibility for food, and recyclable cans. "They're not recycling yet," he reported, "so I would collect these cans and turn them in for cash. The backs of papers are usually blank, so I'd take those for drawing. In the winter I would burn them." "Any food in there?" Simon asked. "Depends on what you call food, and what you're willing to eat." Joey leaned further into the dumpster to retrieve what looked like a promising container. WHOOSH - SLAP! CRASH! Joey lurched up at the sound and saw that Simon was suddenly thrown back, and the handicapped boy fell down onto the hard pavement, skidding and rolling. He screamed in shock as his crutches flew from his hands. "SIMON! WHAT..." he started to yell, but that was as far as he got. CRACK - BOOM! There was a flash of light, and the dumpster jolted. Joey was thrown back from the large metal container. His hands tingled from the sudden surge of energy, and he landed hard on the street. The pavement ripped his shirt and scratched his skin. He rolled and pushed himself up. "SIMON!" he called out, and he tried to run to his friend. WHOOSH - SLAP! Something hard slapped the side of his head, throwing him down again. This time he caught a glimpse of something running past him extremely fast. He rolled on the pavement painfully. Small rocks cut into his arms and back, and the skin on his face burned. CRACKLE! Simon tried crawling towards his crutches, and screamed as thin tongues of lightning hit him. Joey was breathing heavily, his heart was pounding, and he looked around for their opponents. He found them. Clyde, Brandon, and Neil stood not far from them. His body went cold in response. "Well, well, well," Clyde sneered. "If it isn't the Myer's Institute's most famous faggots! What brings you out here into an alleyway? Looking for a private spot for a blow-job?" Neil snickered while Brandon chuckled stupidly. Joey stared at the three bullies. "Leave us alone, Clyde!" He tried to push himself up again. "No. You got me in trouble, and you burned my phone," Clyde accused them. "And now you pay." Joey stood up. "We're GETTING you a new phone, you idiot!" Clyde nodded to Brandon, and Brandon suddenly bolted forward, running at super-speed, He ran past Joey, slapping him on the arm. His hand slammed into Joey so hard it made him spin and fall. Joey hit the ground and rolled. His shirt ripped more, and the hot pavement burned and tore at his skin. He cried out in pain, and looked at his shoulder. He was bleeding. "Do you think I CARE about that?" Clyde screamed. "I'm STILL in trouble! My dad's still going to find out. You just HAD to open your big mouth!" "Stop it, Clyde!" Simon yelled. Clyde grunted and tensed his muscles, and they grew slightly, expanding inside his body, stretching his skin. "Burn him," he said to Neil. Niel postured and threw out a wide web of lightning, giggling the entire time. Most of the bolts missed Simon, but a few hit. Simon screamed and convulsed, holding his head. Joey looked back and forth at the boys, watching in horror as Simon shook and rolled on the pavement, and the three other boys laughing at them. He reached for his pocket, and felt the indentation of his cell phone. One button was all he had to press, and EarthGuard would be alerted. A superhero could be there in minutes. They didn't have minutes. Simon was screaming. He had to get to him and push a power into him now. Joey scrambled up and tried to run to his friend, but Brandon ran past him again, pushing him in the chest and throwing him back. He hit the dumpster with a loud THRUM and bounced off it. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and he landed hard on his hands and knees. His palms scraped on the pavement, and were burning with pain. Joey stared at his bloody hands and shook with fear and rage. "What? You think I'm going to let you kiss your boyfriend?" Clyde teased. "Give him powers? Fuck that, you faggot! You're not going anywhere." He grunted and strained, and Joey could see his muscles expanding, stretching his clothes. Brandon and Neil were laughing. Neil was pouring a web of electricity over Simon, occasionally hitting him, and Brandon was watching Joey, waiting for him to get up again. Joey grimaced and got up on one knee. "Stop it Brandon. I swear, if you try that one more time..." Brandon laughed. "What are you going to do, buttfucker?" He braced himself, ready for another run. Joey let the rage build in him, and he stood up. Brandon launched himself at him again, but this time Joey was ready. He summoned his power, and the sparks erupted from his hands. But they weren't the normal sparks. These were the sparks of rage, of hatred, of anger; the black sparks. Brandon was running full tilt towards Joey before he noticed that the black sparks were flowing, and couldn't stop in time. He ran right into the sphere of influence, and Joey sucked the super-speed power out of the boy. Brandon tripped and flew towards him, suddenly unable to move his legs fast enough to keep up with the momentum he had built in his own body, and Joey hooked one arm out and clotheslined the speedster. Brandon hit his arm hard, knocking both boys down to the ground. It didn't hurt Joey that much being hit in the arm, but Brandon's larynx was nearly crushed in the impact. Joey quickly rolled on top of the boy, grabbed him by the hair, screamed, and violently smashed his face into the pavement with all of his strength. Blood splattered out from the impact as Brandon's nose was broken. Neil and Clyde startled at the sight. "What the fuck?" Neil yelled out, and he pulled back his electrical attack. "Get the fuck off him, you faggot!" he yelled, and he ran towards Joey and Brandon. Brandon was crying, and Joey let out a roar and grabbed his hand. He scraped his wrist in a wide arc across the rough pavement, leaving a bloody trail in the ground. Brandon suddenly screeched and moaned in agony, and as Neil approached, Joey lifted the damaged arm towards Neil. Neil skid to a stop as Brandon's blood sprayed from his wrist a good six feet in thick pulses, hitting him in the face and chest. "AAAGHH!" he shrieked in fear, and his eyes bugged out at the sight of so much blood pumping out of Brandon's wrist. Joey dropped the boy's wrist, stood up, and kicked the unconscious wounded boy over. Black sparks poured out of his hands, and his eyes were pure obsidian. He stared at the electrified mutant in a challenge. "Well Neil, make a decision. Either attack me, or save your friend's life. I just broke his artery. He'll die in thirty seconds unless you stop the bleeding right now." Neil shook in hesitation. Joey could see he was raging, and the electricity sparked off him, only to vanish within Joey's sphere of influence. "God damn you!" he finally cursed, and he ran to his friend and grabbed his wrist with both hands. "Yeah! That's good!" Joey shouted at the bully. "Direct pressure! Keep it up, or he dies! You got him?" he asked. "You got him good?" "Yeah! I..." "GREAT!" Joey shouted at the boy. "DON'T LET GO!" And he kicked Neil hard in the face. Neil howled in pain and fell over, still holding onto Brandon's arm. Joey kept yelling at the boy. "HOLD HIM TIGHT! DON'T LET GO!" He kicked him in the face again. "LET GO AND HE DIES!" Neil sprawled on the ground and rolled, trying desperately to evade Joey's foot while holding onto Brandon's wrist. Simon managed to recover enough to see what Joey was doing. "Joey! What are you doing?" he cried out. Joey didn't pay any attention to his friend. He was in a murderous rage, and he slammed his heel down hard on Neil's jaw. There was a loud CRACK as Neil's jaw broke, and the boy moaned and gurgled in agony as he held on to his friend's arm, trying to keep him alive. Joey stopped, and turned to Clyde. Clyde stared at him in abject horror. He hadn't moved an inch in all of Joey's attacks. He just stood and stared in terror. Joey was covered in blood and dirt, and his clothes were ripped and stained, and his eyes were black as hell. The black sparks surged from his hands, and he was breathing heavily. He raised one hand towards the big bully and pointed at him. "You're getting yours now." Clyde finally managed to collect himself, and roared and he strained himself, pumping his muscles larger and stronger. They split the seams of his shirt as he flexed, and as Joey suddenly tore towards him, screaming his challenge, Clyde yelled back and charged towards the smaller boy. As soon as Joey got within reach of the big bully, he sucked the boy's powers out. Clyde deflated like an untied balloon, and stumbled from the sudden loss of weight. Joey tackled the large boy, and the two fell and hit the pavement, wrestling and fighting. He punched, kicked, sliced, clawed, and bit the bully in a savage rage. Clyde punched and screamed and fought back, and even though he was still bigger than Joey, it wasn't enough. "YOU THINK YOU CAN SCARE ME?" Joey yelled as he pummeled the bully. He smashed his bloodied fists into Clyde's face, and kneed his stomach. "I'VE FUCKING KILLED AND EATEN RATS FOR FIVE YEARS!" (Prove myself.) "ALL YOU DO IS PICK ON KIDS SMALLER THAN YOU!" Clyde was crying, and he tried to roll away from Joey, attempting to escape. Joey grabbed his arm and painfully twisted it behind him, pinning him down on the hard pavement. He pushed his arm upward, causing Clyde to howl in agony. "THIS IS CALLED PAIN!" he yelled at the boy. "THIS IS WHAT PEOPLE FEEL WHEN THEY DEAL WITH YOU!" "I GIVE! STOP! OW!" Clyde yelled in surrender. Joey smacked his head down on the ground. " I don't fucking believe you!" He twisted his arm harder, causing him to grimace in agony. "I know your type. You're not surrendering! You're lying!" "No! I'm not!" he begged. "The moment I let you go, you're going to get away from me, pump yourself up, pick up that dumpster, and throw it on me. No! Fuck you! You SURRENDER!" "I do!" he pleaded. "I SURRENDER!" "PROVE IT!" "I..." "PISS YOUR PANTS! NOW!" Clyde hesitated and struggled to get free, and Joey roared, pushing his full body weight up against Clyde's bent arm. Clyde screamed as the ligaments tore, and his arm dislocated from his shoulder. "Joey! Stop it!" Simon pleaded. "PISS THEM!" Joey screamed at the sobbing boy. "JOSEPH!" It was a woman's voice, one that Joey recognized. He turned and saw Quantum Knight standing in the alley not far from him. Behind her stood several people staring at the scene. He relaxed, and let go of Clyde, and stood up over the beaten boy. He was panting heavily and dizzy, and Clyde was crying in pain. Joey could see the dark stain in the bully's crotch. He allowed himself a smile, and slowly stumbled towards the superhero. She quickly turned to a man behind her. "Take off your belt, and wrap it around his arm! Make a tourniquet." The man nodded and ran to Brandon, pulling off his belt in the process. She turned to Joey. "What happened here?" she asked. "Not bad, do you think?" he said between gasps. "Three against one." He limped towards his friend and secret lover. "Did you do all this?" she asked steadily. He nodded. "Yeah. They had it coming." Quantum Knight summoned a pair of handcuffs. "Don't make this hard for me, Joey." He looked confused. "Huh?" The superhero took his arm, twisted him around, and slapped the cuffs on his wrists. "You're under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used..." "What are you doing?" he shouted. Quantum Knight pushed him against a wall, leaned close to him and whispered sternly. "I SAID ... Don't make this hard for me! ... Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney..." ------- Chapter 5: Punishments and Just Rewards "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!" They were back home. It was many hours later, and Tricia had spent most of them dealing with the police, EarthGuard, the hospital, the Myer's Institute, and the parents of the three other boys whom Joey had fought. And she was in a scary and foul mood. She towered over the boy as he sat on the couch. Betty Collins from Child and Family Services sat next to him taking notes on her clipboard, and wore a mixed expression of concern and smugness. "I don't understand! Why am I in trouble?" Joey whined. "You put three kids in the hospital! That's why you're in trouble!" "So? They were trying to kill us!" "You don't know that," Tricia scolded. "They may have been trying to scare you. They may have been trying to hurt you, but they were not using lethal force! Believe me, if they wanted you dead, you would be dead! You were certainly careless enough to make sure that could have happened." She waved her arms frantically as she yelled. "Neil could have hit you from a distance at full force lightning. Brandon could have used a weapon or punched you in the throat. Clyde could have picked up that dumpster and thrown it on you. But they didn't! Why did you respond by trying to kill them?" "Hey! I was afraid for my life!" he yelled back. "And I was afraid for Simon's life as well! And if they were trying to scare me, well guess what? IT WORKED! I WAS SCARED! You weren't there! What was I supposed to do?" Tricia folded her arms over her chest in defiance. "You were SUPPOSED to call EarthGuard, as you were TAUGHT to do! What happened? Didn't you even think about using your phone?" "Yeah, but..." "Well why didn't you?" "They were hurting Simon! He was screaming! I couldn't wait for someone else to come. And I knew I could handle them!" With one hand on her hip Tricia stabbed a finger at him. "This isn't about whether you could handle them or not! This is about you doing the wrong thing! Joey! You nearly killed Brandon! He and Neil are going to need surgery, and Clyde's going to be in a sling for weeks." "GOOD! They deserved it!" he grimaced. "No they didn't, Joey. They..." "No Tricia!" he insisted. "They DID! You don't know what they're like! Everyone hates those guys! They're always picking on kids, pushing us around, starting fights, scaring people! Somebody had to stop them!" "Oh, and you think you were the one to do this?" "Yes! I was there! You don't know what it's like to deal with bullies like..." Tricia struck an attitude pose. "Oh DON'T ... you go there!" Betty coughed gently, catching everyone's attention. "Maybe we should consider the option that perhaps this is not the best environment for..." Tricia turned her eyes to Betty and silenced her with a smoldering, furious look. Annie leaned in to Betty. "You really don't want to finish that sentence if you want to keep that clipboard outside of your body," Annie suggested. Tricia focused a raw beam of fury on Betty. "I am his mother," Tricia steamed, "and I will deal with this." She turned back to Joey. "So you think I don't know what it's like to deal with bullies?" "Not super-powered ones," he declared. "No? Well guess what?" she said as calmly as possible. "I'm a girl. And girls are inherently smaller and weaker than boys, so as far as we girls are concerned, all boys are super-powered. So don't you DARE tell me I don't know what it's like to deal with someone bigger and stronger than me. I know all about what bullies are like, and you don't deal with them by stooping to their level!" Joey flustered. "Well if you know bullies, then you know there IS no other way to deal with them! They can't be reasoned with! You can't talk to them! You ask them to stop and they don't. They just laugh and hit harder!" Trish tried to interrupt, but Joey continued. "No, Trish, I know these kids, and the ONLY language they know is pain and fear. So I spoke to them in the only language they understand! They are NEVER going to fuck with me or Simon again!" Tricia started counting on her fingers. "One! Watch your language, young man, and two, no, they can understand reason. And if you think the only language they understand is violence, then it is your job to TEACH them reason! Because let me tell you something about bullies; They are not just simple animals or comic-book villains. They are full, complex human beings, just like the rest of us, and they usually have a lot of pain and fear in their life that they don't know how to deal with, and the last thing they need is more from you! What they need is understanding and empathy. Now, I have no problem with you using your powers to defend yourself. Stopping Brandon and Neil by nullifying their powers was a good idea. But breaking Brandon's nose, ripping open his arteries, toying with his life, spraying Neil in his face with blood, and breaking Neil's jaw as he tried to save Brandon's life, that was inexcusable. That was TORTURE! And as for Clyde, he didn't do anything, did he?" "But he's their leader! He made them attack us! I had to take him down!" "No you didn't. From what I heard, he was too scared to fight you. You attacked him unprovoked, and you seriously injured him and humiliated him AFTER he surrendered!" "But he was going to..." "You don't know that! What I know is YOU turned into the bully. And you should be better than that." Joey was silenced, and he dropped his head, unable to look at Tricia. He shook his head and tried to speak. Tricia wouldn't let him. "Now ... I've got three sets of parents who want to press charges against you, and a school that wants to expel you. We paid a lot of money to get you into that school, and if they kick you out we're not getting a refund. Now Amanda is working with the parents to settle out of court, and we managed to reduce your punishment to a week long suspension. So for the rest of this week, you are grounded!" Joey looked up in anger. "Grounded?" Tricia gave him an evil stare. "And you are stuck with me, young man. You're coming with me to work, and I know that your hands and knees are still bandaged and cut up. Tough! You're mopping, you're scrubbing floors, you're cleaning toilets, and you're doing dishes this week. No TV, no movies, no computer games, and no flying!" Annie gasped. "No flying?" Tricia pointed. "Now you go to your room, and you start writing letters of apology to all three of those boys, their parents, and the school. NOW!" Joey stood up and stomped towards his room in defiance. "DON'T SLAM THE DOOR!" she barked. He stopped himself before he slammed it, and closed it quietly. There were a couple seconds of very awkward silence as the three women heard the young boy in his room crying and muttering to himself. Tricia took a deep calming breath, exhaled slowly, and turned to Betty. "Now ... you were saying something?" she challenged. Betty thought for a couple seconds, blinked a couple times, and decided what to say. "Nope," she concluded. She stood up, smoothed out her skirt, and made a final note on her clipboard. "I think you are handling things properly. I'll check in later." Tricia and Annie watched her leave, and as Betty closed the front door behind her, Annie turned to Tricia. "Trish. Did you mean that? No flying?" Tricia gave her an odd look. "Of course. Doesn't he enjoy it?" "Well, yes, but..." "Then no flying." "Uh..." Annie balked in disbelief. Joey opened the door to his room and carefully peeked out, terror and shame washed over his face. "I um ... I heard her leave," he managed to say. "Yes?" Tricia replied. "So um ... was that all ... really ... um..." Tricia folded her arms over her chest again. "Joey, I am sorry." Joey nodded, and looked a little relieved. "So that was all for her..." "I am sorry I didn't take my responsibilities as your mother seriously when you attacked Marcelo Delgado. At the time I didn't know what I was doing, and was just glad to get you out of there without losing you and causing some huge paradox. But what you did to him was wrong, and you should have been punished back then." Joey's mouth dropped open. Tricia continued. "Joey, I understand that for many years you had to live like an animal. Well now you are back in civilization, and you need to start acting like a human being again. And what's more, if you are seriously thinking that you want to be a superhero, you have to be even better than that. You have learn to control your anger, and control your actions, and learn to be the better person. And I know it felt good to beat and torture those boys, but that's the problem. If you take pleasure in hurting someone, regardless of how much they deserve it, you are no better than a supervillain." Joey stood there and blinked in silent disbelief. Tricia cocked her head. "And now that Betty is gone, let me make your punishment perfectly clear to you. You sleep alone in your room this week. You are not sleeping with us. No sex for a week. Got it?" "I ... you mean..." "GOT IT?" Joey's look of terror returned. "Yes ma'am," he nodded. "Go to your room." He closed the door. Tricia took another cleansing breath, and sighed. Annie stared at her. "What!" "No sex? And no flying?" "Yeah." "You mean, not even..." "Don't even let him touch you," Tricia declared. Annie balked again. "But ... can't we just..." Tricia rolled her eyes. "Oh Annie," she sighed as she she stomped off to their bedroom. "Get a vibrator!" ------- It was hours later when he cautiously emerged from his room. Clutching an apology note in his bandaged hand, he slowly, timidly, and carefully made his way to the kitchen. Tricia and Annie sat at the table; Tricia was writing notes in a notebook, and Annie sat silently, staring at her barely touched sandwich and kept one hand in her sweater pocket. Tricia raised her eyes as he approached and looked at him questioningly. "Um..." he began, and he held out the note to her. "I've ... been writing." She took the note and glanced over it. "Your handwriting is terrible." "My hands hurt," he defended. Tricia scanned the note, reading it aloud. "I am writing this because I have to apologize..." She mumbled a couple more words from the sentence, groaned, and then folded the note and ripped it in half. "What are you doing?" he yelled. Tricia ripped the apology note into several pieces and threw them in the trash. "That was not an apology. You didn't mean it." "But I did what you said!" "An apology means you feel sorry," she barked at him. "And you don't feel sorry yet. Now go to your room." Joey fumed for a second, and stormed to his room, slamming the door. They could hear him throw himself on his bed. Annie stared at Tricia in disbelief. "What?" Tricia asked. "He's trying." "Not hard enough." Annie fumed. "Why did you not see this coming?" "What do you mean?" "Aren't these things supposed to show up in your dreams?" "Yeah," Tricia sighed. "I saw this coming." Annie glared at Tricia. "You KNEW this was going to happen? And you didn't do anything to stop it?" "No. I didn't know this was going to happen." "What the hell are you talking about?" "Look, Annie. I see a LOT of things, and most of them don't happen. I saw him get in the fight, but I also saw him avoid the fight, and I saw him ride home with me, and I saw him stop in a store and steal something, and I saw him prevent Simon's detention. This time now is not governed by a self-correcting time-loop like it was a couple months ago. Anything can happen. The only events I feel any confidence about are those that are far outside our influence." "Then why don't you try to make a new time-loop? Give us some fair warning about things that are going to affect us." Tricia groaned. "We've tried that. You know that. Even with your's and Joey's help I can't just punch a hole into a new time-space location unless all of the other versions of me are doing the same thing for the same reason." Annie sighed, and she snatched up a knife and bread, and started severely fixing another sandwich. Tricia watched as she slapped mustard onto the bread. "You've barely touched your food. Why are you making another?" "I'm making a plate for Joey. Unless you're planning on starving him too!" She shook her head. "You can take that to him, but don't defy me. Don't undo my work." Annie dropped the knife on the plate with a loud clatter. "What am I in this?" she demanded. "What do you mean?" "Am I his mother? Or his lover? Just a business partner? I know your name is on the paper saying that you are his mother, but where do I fit in this?" "I don't know. Where do you want to be in this? You want to help parent him? Fine! Help me. If you just want to be his lover, that's fine too, but just don't get in my way. I will take you down if you cross me." They stared at each other for a second, and Annie resumed making the sandwich. Tricia watched her for a moment, and her eyes dropped down to Annie's sweater pocket. She could see the Velcro tether poking out of it. "This is about the flying, isn't it?" Annie grumbled. "Annie, I'm not punishing YOU." "I know," she muttered. "I'm sorry that you're getting caught in the middle of this, and I'm sorry that you feel like you're being punished, but we have to help him by teaching him. This is the third time he's tried to solve his problems by trying to kill someone, and if we're raising him, we need to tackle that." "Desdemona deserved it." "Maybe, and that was certainly self-defence, but I think that's where the problem comes from. Look, Annie, I can feel it. The entire time-space continuum twisted itself into a knot to save this planet. It reached back far, years ago to set this all up. It put us all in place to get rid of Desdemona. You, me, Joey, his father, Quantum Knight, Snow Angel, Gus ... Jesus Christ, even Doctor Booth was in the right spot at the right time! It created this boy, this kid with this unclassifiable, unmeasurable power, and gave him all the torture and trauma needed to generate the passion and rage to take out an eighth level demon. Eighth level! That's powerful. There's only one ninth level demon, and I don't think he can fit in this universe. So yay for us! He did his job and he killed the demon, saving us all. But NOW WHAT? Look at what we've got! A boy with unchecked amounts of power, conditioned to kill what he hates, and praised by the press and rewarded with fame and offers of money for his famous kill. He's going to kill again. And we have to prevent that." Annie closed her eyes and rubbed her face, hiding herself from Tricia's glare. "Annie. I need to know if I can count on you to help me." She nodded. "You don't have to do this. That first day I brought him in, I offered you the chance out of this. But you stayed. You said that Destiny needed you, and it did. And you did what Destiny needed you to do. You helped me with Desdemona. But the offer is still there. You don't have to be his mother. You can still leave." Annie shook her head. "No," she managed. "I'll help you." "I'm not doing this to hurt you. I'm not trying to hurt you." "I know." "But if you want to stay with us, you have to help me. I need to know you've got my back." "I do. I'm staying," she said defiantly. "Why? It's not like Destiny is calling for you again." Annie let out a long shuddering breath, and slapped the sandwich together on the plate. She put the plate on her lap and turned her chair. She stopped and took another breath. "I ... He's what I live for now." Tricia watched her, and Annie continued in a quiet voice. "Every day, I wake up in his arms, and I just want to stay with him all day. I love his touch, and when he leaves, I feel this ache..." Tears gathered in her eyes. "And I wait for him. I just wait and I dream all day for him to return. And when he comes home, we fly! We FLY, Tricia! I get out of the chair and I can FLY! And I know you fly with him, but I don't think it's the same for you! But to feel that, to be so free, for even just an hour, it's everything for me ... And then we come home, and we make love ... and I feel such joy..." She touched her abdomen. "I can feel places I haven't felt in years. So I live for him. I live for those moments, and to see you so angry at him, and to see him in such pain, it's more than I can bear. And I know! I know why you are doing this, but it hurts! It hurts." Tricia watched the tears roll down her roommate's face, and she went over and knelt down next to her friend. She hugged her, and as Annie held her and sniffed, Tricia consoled her. "I'm sorry, but it's going to be a rough week for all of us. But we need to be strong. He needs our guidance, and it's going to hurt for a while, but it's for the best. He needs to learn to deal with others without resorting to violence. You understand?" Annie nodded, sniffing. Tricia smiled. "Good girl. And think of it this way. After a week of celibacy, all three of us are going to be climbing the walls, and when the ban is lifted, we're all going to have the best damn sex you can imagine." Annie burst out a single bark of laughter and shook in convulsions of quiet laughter into Tricia's shoulder. "Seriously!" Tricia continued. "That boy is going to nail us to the ceiling. And I for one am looking forward to it. But I need to be able to count on you to back me up." She pulled back and held Annie's face, staring in to her eyes. "So you're going to find a way to survive this week without flying. You can do this. I know this is tough for you, but this is for him. Okay?" Annie nodded. "Okay. I'll find a way." Tricia kissed her cheek, and returned to her chair, and Annie wheeled into the living room. There Annie took a moment to compose herself, wipe her eyes, and blow her nose. Be strong, she said to herself. Help Tricia. Back her up. She took a deep breath. I am on Tricia's side. I am here for her. Be the strong parent. Once she felt ready, she rolled to Joey's door and knocked. "Go away," Joey grumbled from inside his room. "I'm invoking rule number one," Annie responded. She could hear him get up and a moment later Joey opened the door. She held out the plate with the sandwich on it. "When a Jewish woman offers you food..." " ... I take it," Joey completed and he took the plate. As he reached for the plate, for the briefest moment their fingers touched, and Annie felt a bolt of power enter her. Her heartbeat surged and her stomach quivered. The room got brighter as her pupils dilated, and a wave of pleasure engulfed her body, tightening her nipples and sending shivers through her spine. She gasped in shock, and Joey pulled away, breaking the contact. He studied her. "You're not angry at me, are you?" Annie shuddered. Aftershocks of pleasure echoed in her spirit. She could just sense Tricia in the next room listening on their conversation. "No, of course not." "So you think I did the right thing?" Stand with Tricia, her mind said, but her stomach flipped as she looked in his eyes. "I ... Joey, I can see both sides of this..." "But you don't hate me too." "She doesn't hate you. She's angry with you now, but she still loves you." "But what do you think? Was I right?" Annie faltered. Tricia was silent in the kitchen, listening in on them, and Joey stared at her. Annie's eyes focused on his eyes, his lips, his hands and fingers. She craved his touch, but she promised Tricia. "I..." she started. "Well?" "Don't make me pick sides here," she settled on, and she turned her chair and rolled to her bedroom. ------- She awoke that night to the sound of screaming across the hall. "NOOOO! DAD!" Annie gasped and rolled. "Tricia!" she said. "Joey's having another..." "I know," she answered. "I can hear." Annie tried to sit up. "We need to..." "Don't." "NOO! STOP!!" Tricia lay in bed next to her, facing away from Annie, and she didn't move an inch. Annie watched her. "So you're just going to lay there?" "PLEASE!" "Yes. And so are you." Annie managed to sit up, and she listened to Joey as he thrashed and screamed in his sleep. "STOP!! NO!! TRICIAAAA!" "Please, Tricia! Can we..." "You're next, Annie. Wait for it..." "ANNIEEEE!!!" " ... aaannnnd ... You're dead now." "Trish! How can you just lay there? He needs us!" "SIMON!!!" "Oy! He's dreaming about Simon now! We've got to..." "I swear to God, Annie. If you get up, I'm popping your tires." The screaming stopped, and Annie could hear the sobbing and gasping sounds coming from his room. She clutched her heart. "I'm so sorry, Joey," she whispered to herself. "I wish I could..." "Go back to sleep, Annie." Annie lay back down and rolled on her side. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest it shook her entire body, and she teared up. She listened to the sounds of movement: soft footsteps, a door opening, more footsteps. She watched the doorway, and saw the shadows move under it. There was a faint knocking on the door. "Trish? Annie? Can I come..." "GO BACK TO BED!" Tricia yelled. Annie flinched at Tricia's shout, and she watched the shadow under the doorway stand still for a long moment. She could hear the subdued gasps and sobs on the other side of the door. She convulsed, sobbing herself as she watched the shadow leave. Joey returned to his room, crying, holding himself, and climbed onto the bed. Why is she doing this? It's not fair! I was the one that did the right thing! He clutched his pillow and sobbed into it. Please! Annie. Tricia. I'm scared. Don't make me sleep alone. I need you. I need someone. He lay there for several minutes, sniffing, crying, and wishing. "There, there," she said as she curled up next to him. She ran her fingers through his hair, and he snuggled into her lap. The blue fabric of her gown was soft and silky smooth against his cheek, and her body was warm and comforting. "It's not fair," he said again, crying. "What happened?" she asked, stroking his cheek. "Tell me all about it," she consoled. "Tricia's being such a bitch!" "Well, that happens. Why is she being a bitch?" Joey rolled over and looked the woman in the eyes. Her long red wavy hair fell around her face, framing her in a fiery light. "I got in a fight after school, but I don't know why she's angry at me. I saved Simon's life!" "Simon?" she puzzled. "Was that the boy at the end of that last nightmare? The one with the crutches?" He nodded. "Yeah." "How did you save him?" "I scared them, and I hurt them." "That doesn't seem much to get all bitchy about." "I also put them in the hospital. Almost killed Brandon." "Oh, I see." "But they deserved it!" Joey frowned as he stared at the beautiful woman. "Who are you?" She giggled, and sang softly "Some-bo-dy's get-ting luuu-ciiiid!" "I don't know who you are." She lay down next to him, stretching out sensuously. Her low-cut robe opened over her chest, revealing soft, full curves, lightly freckled skin, and a deep, wondrous cleavage. "Just another dream-girl. All boys have them. Do you like me?" He stared at her. "What's your name?" She cocked her head at him. "Joey, if I'm going to help you, I need you to stay in REM sleep. You can't start registering your consciousness to analytical levels..." Joey's eyes snapped open. The room was dark, and he lay alone in his room, clutching his pillow. His hands still hurt from the cuts, and the bruises on his legs burned. He pushed his pillow back to the head of the bed, got under the covers, and closed his eyes. "Well, that was bloody rude." "Huh?" Joey blinked at her. "It's not always that easy for me to get in here." She crossed her legs as she sat next to him on the bed. " So you were telling me about what happened today." "It's not fair." She shifted on the bed. "I suppose you're right. You asked me a question, and I asked you a question. It's not fair for me to get my answer if you don't get yours, am I right?" Joey nodded. She smiled. "My name is Sophia. So tell me, Joey. What happened today?" ------- It was past midnight when the beautiful woman in the nurse's scrubs slipped into the boy's room. She quietly locked the door behind her and silently stepped up to the hospital bed. She checked the chart and confirmed his name. Brandon Wyatt-Parsons had bandages over his nose and right arm, and he slowly stirred as the nurse approached his side. "Nurse?" he whispered. "What's..." "Shhh..." She held a finger to her lips and gently stroked his cheek. "We don't want anyone to interrupt us." She pulled her hair loose, and her long golden locks fell down over her shoulders. "I'm Ada. You're Brandon, right?" He nodded. Ada leaned closer to him, pushing her impressive bosom towards his face. "I heard you were in a fight. Got hurt pretty bad, didn't you?" He nodded, his eyes darting down to her breasts. "Yeah." "I'm here to make you feel good," she whispered, sidling up to him. Her finger dropped down from his cheek, and she caressed his chest. The teenager watched her. "You're not a real nurse, are you?" "Smart boy. I like you." Her hand caressed down to his abdomen, and Brandon took in a shuddering breath. "You're right. Nurses can't help you the way I want to." "Who are you, and what do you want?" "I told you. I'm Ada. I want to be your friend. And what I really want right now..." She took his free, unbandaged hand and placed it on her full breast. " ... is for you to touch my breasts." Brandon's eyes opened wide as she held his hand to her. Her breast was warm, soft, and large, and as his fingers pressed into the yielding flesh he could feel the indentation of her nipple against his palm. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "You like that?" she whispered. "Yeah!" he said softly back. His heart started beating stronger, and his breaths came in short gasps. "Squeeze me," she instructed. He did, sinking his fingers deep into the soft, supple form. He could feel the flesh through two layers of clothing push out between his fingers. Ada purred in response. "Mmmm ... I like that." "Wow!" he gasped quietly, running his finger over her nipple, She was hardening under his simple touches. "Can I touch you now?" she asked eagerly, and her hand traced lower and lower, past his stomach, and down over his quivering abdomen. "You mean my..." he started, and her hand made its way down and over the hard lump. He bolted and squirmed as she rubbed his hard cock through the blanket. "Oh yes!" he gasped. "You're so hard already!" she moaned and giggled. She pressed her fingers down hard over his erection, stroking him. Brandon shifted and gasped as she pleasured him. "Oh ... why are you ... oh..." "Let me get up here with so so we can talk." Ada kicked off her shoes, dropped her pants, and climbed onto the bed with him, laying next to him. She pressed her warm, soft body up against the boy's, and purred as she stroked his cock through the blanket while pressing her fat breasts into his hand, pinning it down. She leaned in close to his lips. "You were really roughed up, weren't you? Let me kiss you and make you better?" She kissed his lips delicately, extending her tongue and licking his lips. Her cheek brushed up against his bandages. "Ow!" She pulled back. "Oh, I'm sorry. That hurts, doesn't it. This is going to be so much better when you are fully healed." She dropped her head down a bit. "Let me kiss you here." She kissed his jaw, his cheek, his neck. "Is that better?" He squirmed under her attentions. "Yes," he gasped. "You like it when I stroke your hard cock like this?" "Yes," he panted. "Why are you doing this?" Ada shifted and climbed on top of the boy, straddling his legs. She sat up on top of him, grinding her crotch over his erection, and guided his hand to the bottom of her shirt. "Lift my blouse, and I'll tell you." Brandon eagerly started lifting her scrubs, revealing her smooth olive-toned skin. Ada pulled her top off and dropped it over her shoulders, and Brandon gasped as his eyes locked onto her full breasts locked into her tight bra. She reached between the cups, unhooked, and freed the soft orbs. As she dropped her bra on the floor, Brandon gulped and reached upward, cupping one large, fat, soft breast. "That's it," she encouraged the young teen. "Touch my breasts." "Oh..." His fingers probed her smooth soft skin, and he gazed at her naked breasts. He ran his thumb over her hard nipple, stroking it, and lifted one heavy mound. "You like them?" she purred, pushing forward, pressing her soft pillowy tit into his eager hand. "Yes." He squeezed her tit hard, mushing his fingers deep into the spongy mound. Flesh oozed between his fingers, engulfing his hand. She grinned. "Big, aren't they?" "Yeah." He explored and probed her breasts, feeling one, then the other, caressing and squeezing. "Want to kiss them?" He nodded, and Ada leaned forward, dangling her large breasts over his eager lips. She dropped downward, and he opened his mouth. His warm, wet tongue touched and swirled about her nipple. "Here. Yes, that's it." He pushed up and sucked her nipple into his mouth while squeezing her big breast in his free hand. "That's it," she encouraged. "Suck it. So good." She squirmed over his crotch, rubbing her moistening pussy against his erection through the blanket. "Brandon?" she asked, caressing his head gently. "The reason I'm doing this is because we have something in common." He could feel her hot breath on him. He licked her nipple and she shivered in response. "We have a common enemy. The boy who put you in here, what he did was wrong. He should be punished. And I want to be the one to punish him." "Mmm." Ada rocked and rubbed her pussy over his hard cock. "Yes. Ooh. You're getting me so wet. You like me don't you?" "Mmm hmm." "I like you too, Brandon. Do you want to fuck me?" "Mmm?" "Fuck me?" she asked cutely. "Do you want to stick that big, hard cock of yours inside my pussy?" He pulled his mouth off her breast to answer. "Yes!" "I bet you do." She sat up, straddling him. "I want you to fuck me, Brandon," and she started pulling his blanket down, working it downward under her legs one leg at a time. Her fat, heavy breasts swung like twin pendulums on her chest, and Brandon eagerly tried to cup them both with his free, unbound hand. Ada giggled, and when she got his blanket down past his thighs, she pulled his hospital gown upward, exposing his hard cock to the night. She touched his warm, hard skin and grasped the shaft, stroking him and getting her hand wet with his precum. "Oh god!" He bolted under her manipulations. Ada scooted forward and lowered her crotch to his cock, pulling her panties aside. As she touched him to her sex, she teased him, rubbing her labia over his shaft and wrapping her panties around his dick. She sensuously rubbed her pussy up and down against the length of his erection, teasing him and giggling. She then pushed down, pressing her full weight down to the base of his erection, just rubbing along the outside, but not allowing penetration. "Look Brandon. You're inside my panties. Look how far you're going to go inside me." He squirmed under her, squeezing her breast. "Please!" he pleaded. Ada continued to rub his cock with her hand against her pussy. "Feels good." "Yes. Please." "I want to fuck you so bad." "Yes!" "No." Ada leaned forward and kissed his lips carefully, while rubbing his cock against her. "You want to fuck me? I'll let you." She kissed him again and rubbed her entire body over the writhing boy. "I'll let you do anything you want with me, as many times as you want, but you have to do something for me." Brandon's eyes opened wide in concern. "Don't worry. It's something easy. Something you'll want to do." "What?" he gasped. Her stroking intensified. "Keep an eye on him, ' she growled. "Keep an eye on Joey Harper. He's protected." Brandon was gasping and panting as she pleasured him. "I want to know when he's not around his guardians. Let me know when he's unprotected, when he has let his guard down. Call me. I'll give you a number. Just let me know when he's out without his guardians, and let me take care of him. "Oh..." Brandon emitted. "You do that for me?" "Yes!" he exclaimed, panting and writhing. "I keep my promises, Brandon. Do this for me, let me know when he's vulnerable, and I'll take care of him. And then I'll let you do whatever you want with me. Whatever you want." The boy was shaking and gasping under her manipulations, and Ada smiled at him. "I'm going to make you cum now. Consider this a handshake deal." "OH!" Ada suddenly rubbed her palm over the sensitive head of his erection, pushing the entire length hard up against her wet pussy. Her pubic hair tickled the sensitive underside of his cock, and Brandon bolted and gasped as the pleasures overtook him. She pushed down on his base, squeezed, and pulled up, fucking his cock in her hand and against her pussy. He bucked his hips upward, pushing his cock hard into her hand. "Oh! OH! OH!" "That's it!" she encouraged. "Cum baby. Cum for Nurse Ada." Brandon squeezed his eyes shut, arched his back, and Ada felt the hot streams pumping out of his cock as he came. "That's it!" she said. "Oh god, yes! Cum all over me!" She felt the hot wetness spraying over her arm and stomach as he convulsed under her. His hand squeezed her breast hard, squishing the soft mound. The orgasm was over, and the boy relaxed, gasping, panting, and sweating. Ada was mildly disappointed, having gotten turned on by her performance. She had hoped to get a quick orgasm out of it, but it didn't matter. She got what she needed. She smiled and pulled back, allowing the boy to see the mess he made over her perfect body. She smeared his cum over her form, playing with it, and licked her fingers. "That was good," she said, and she leaned down and gently kissed the boy's lips. "Can't wait to do this for real." Brandon nodded and panted, catching his breath. She smiled and climbed off the bed. She removed her panties, towelled herself off, and put her bra and scrubs back on. Brandon watched her with glazed eyes, and as she slipped her shoes back on, she went to the closet, found his clothes, and stuffed a small card along with her soaked panties into his pants pocket. Ada gave him a wink. "Call me, okay?" Brandon smiled. "Yeah. I will." She smiled back and unlocked the door. She turned back to him one last time. "Oh, and lover?" His heart surged. "Yes?" She grinned at him. "What room is your friend Neil in?" ------- Chapter 6: Water and Tears Tricia dropped the empty bucket and scrub brush on the floor, and then stared at Joey expectantly. It was early Tuesday morning, the first day of his grounding, and they were at the homeless shelter. "Water is in the faucet. Cleanser is under the sink. Get scrubbing." Joey hesitated as he saw the filthy floor. He looked at his bandaged hands, and held his hands up to her. "My hands still hurt! Do I have to..." "Yes." He looked around, shifting uncomfortably. His knees still hurt too. "But do you have a mop?" Tricia nodded. "Yeah. We do. Your point?" She stared at him, unmoving, and unwavering. Joey watched her, looking for any sign of mercy, or compassion, and saw nothing but fury and a rapidly dwindling patience. He swallowed, picked up the bucket, and took it to the sink. He started to fill the bucket with water, and retrieved the cleanser from under the sink. The harsh chemical fumes made him choke, but he toughened himself, not willing to let her see him suffer. He turned off the water and grabbed the handle. The bucket had way too much water in it already, and it was so heavy that the bare metal handle cut painfully into his injured hands. He grimaced and lifted the heavy bucket out of the sink, and put it on the floor. Water sloshed out over his shoes, and pain shot through his hands and arms. He groaned, and gingerly knelt down on the hard, cold floor. More pain from his cut knees, his bruised back, and his scraped shoulders flared and burned him. He took the cleanser and poured some in the bucket. The fumes burned his eyes and nose, and he coughed. Tough it out! Don't give her what she wants. He took the brush, dipped it in the water, and with both hands scrubbed it over the floor. Intense pain shot from his ripped hands, up through his bruised arms, and into his spine. He grunted involuntarily, and shot her a dirty look. Look at what you are doing to me! Satisfied? Tricia nodded. "Good. Keep scrubbing. I'm going to check on you from time to time. Don't let the cleanser seep into your bandages. It'll hurt like hell." And she turned and walked out of the room. ------- Annie dropped into the large indoor swimming pool feet-first and sank down into the deep, cool water. She was in her favorite yellow bikini, and as she submerged, she watched her thin legs floating upward in front of her. Her long black hair drifted out around her in radiant tendrils, and she could see other swimmers in the pool doing their laps. Holding her hands in flat oar-shapes with fingers straight, she confidently pushed through the water, dipping forward, touching the bottom with both hands, and pushing back upward. Her head broke the surface and she gasped for air, inflating her lungs to peak capacity, increasing her buoyancy. She expertly flipped onto her back, did a few strokes in that position, and then flipped around again into a different direction. What am I doing? What am I even supposed to feel now? She pushed herself back under the water, and watched the other swimmers with some contempt. She was the only adult swimmer in the area who wasn't wasting the pool as far as she was concerned. Everyone else was squandering the rare opportunity of full three dimensional movement by swimming long, boring, repeating one-dimensional laps, while over in the shallow section a group of elderly women wrapped in one-pieces and cellulite danced to a water-aerobics instructor's commands. She alone swam freely, gliding down into the depths of the pool, paddling, stroking, twisting, turning, and pushing herself forward with her strong arms, and far away from her chair, exploring the empty pool, and trying her best to recreate the sensation of flying. Tricia is right. Joey does get violent, but he's had a rough life! It's what he learned. It's what he needed to do in order to survive. And he should be able to defend himself. But she says he went too far, and I can see that. When I look at it objectively, I can see it. My mind says he went too far. He overreacted. He shouldn't have tried to kill that boy. But in my heart ... when I think about those boys attacking my Joey, I just want to tear their throats out! How dare they touch my Joey! They deserved it! They deserved everything he did to them. And he wasn't just protecting himself; he was protecting the entire school from them. They'll think twice before they bother anyone else. They'll never hurt anyone else in the school again. I miss him already. I miss him so much. No flying, no touching. How are we going to get through this week? I need him, and he needs me. I should have gone to him last night. I should have helped him. I can't bear the thought of him sleeping alone with his nightmares. His screaming ... I don't know if I can take another night of that. How can I stay home? Maybe I should go back to my parents this week. Say it was a family emergency. No! I can't lie to them. I need to be here for him. Maybe Tricia will let up on him in a couple days. No. She won't. I know her. I feel so trapped. She surfaced again, took a deep breath and twisted, trying to recreate the stomach-churn of a tight banked turn, but swimming didn't even come close to soaring. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and started swimming in strong, powerful strokes towards the shallower sections of the pool, keeping a watchful eye on the depth markers. She needed to stay in areas five feet or deeper. Any shallower and she ran the risk of her numb feet dragging on the floor of the pool, risking a cut. When she reached the shallowest portion she dared to approach, she twisted one-eighty and returned to the deeper sections. Trapped. Can't even use all of this pool. Who am I to him? Am I one of his mothers, or just one of his lovers? Tricia seems to be more and more his mother these days. She seems to get off on parenting him. But I still feel like I'm second. It's not fair. He is everything to me, and I am just one of his. Why can't I be everything to him as well? It just makes me want to kick and scream! "You know," a woman on the side of the pool called out to her in a sultry voice, " ... you could swim a little faster if you kicked your feet more!" Annie stopped. She tread water for a moment, and whipped her hair out of her eyes. The interruption of her thoughts infuriated her, and she mentally turned on her Frost-Vision to a solid 7.5, and slowly swiveled her head towards her target to unleash the Cold Stare of Death. Didn't this paskoodnitseh see the wheelchair there? But as she caught sight of the woman, Annie's eyes widened in surprise. Tall, tanned, wearing a one-piece white suit cut high to show off her wide hips, long raven-black hair tied back in a tight elegant braid, she smirked at Annie through blue-grey eyes and full lips. Annie's eyes darted up to her familiar face, and then down to her unfamiliar and vivacious breasts, and then back up to her face again. "LEXI!!!" she screamed in joy. "AAACKK!! GET IN HERE! GET OVER HERE!" She splashed joyously and immediately started swimming towards her old friend. Lexi elegantly dived into the pool and surfaced near her. Annie screamed and latched onto the woman, squeezing and suffocating her in a bear-hug. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? HOW ARE YOU?" "Ack! ... Can't ... breathe!" "Sorry!" She loosened her grip and still held on to her old friend. "Oh! It's been so long! I haven't seen you since..." "It's so good to see you again! I saw you in Time Magazine! Are you really in EarthGuard now?" "AACK! I know all about my life! What about yours? WHAT'S WITH THE NEW BOOBS?" "You like them?" "Last I heard you had the mastectomies! Are you doing okay?" Lexi threw her arms up into the air in a triumphant gesture and screamed "I AM CANCER-FREE!!!" Annie screamed in joy and hugged her friend again. "IZ OON KVELN! I'm so happy for you!" Lexi hugged her back. "Ask me that again!" "How are you doing?" "CANCER-FREE!!!" she screamed again. Annie laughed and shrieked in delight. "Oh, that's so wonderful! I bet you never get tired of saying that!" "Never!" Lexi beamed. "So! So! So what are you doing here? What brings you to D.C.? And how did you find me?" Lexi gave a brilliant smile. "Steven has a conference here, and I tagged along. I thought I would surprise you. It took a few phone calls to track you down. I had to call your mom to get Tricia's new number, and she told me where you were. So tell me! How are you doing? Are you really in EarthGuard now?" Annie waved one hand dismissively. "Eh, it's not that much to talk about. I'm a 'provisional' member, which just means I'm on their email lists, and it'll take about three years of training to become a reservist. But tell me about yourself! You beat the cancer! How did that go?" Lexi started walking the two of them over to the side of the pool, pulling Annie through the water. "Oh, it was an ordeal! The hardest fight of my life! Drugs, radiation, chemotherapy, surgery, vomiting, support, therapy, group-therapy, family, friends, prayer ... lots and lots of prayer! Steven was so wonderful. He was as scared as I was, but he stuck through it and stayed by my side the entire time." "That's so wonderful!" Annie said, clinging to the side of the pool. "Thank you. I just ... I beat it, Annie! I beat it! I've never fought so hard in my life! It took a toll, but we never stopped fighting." "I'm so happy for you! You know, when I heard about the cancer, my heart went out to you, I was so scared. And then the mastectomies! Oy! I can't imagine." "It was awful. I felt like half a woman." "Oh, well that I CAN imagine." Lexi smiled. "There were some dark times, times when I felt like I couldn't fight anymore. Times when I couldn't take it. And in those times, I would think of you, and how you never back down. You never give up." "Oh no, don't..." "You were always with me, Annie." Annie sniffed and waved her hand. "Please. I'm all verklempt now! You're going to make me cry! And if I start crying, you'll start crying, and then we'll get the pool all wet!" Lexi let out a single bark of laughter and hugged her friend tightly. "You always find strength, Annie. You helped me. Thank you!" Annie held on to her in the long hug, feeling her friend's new breasts push into hers. "Lexi. I don't always feel strong. I have my weak times too." "You ALWAYS find strength. You always find a way. I held on to that. If you could do it, I could do it." "Thank you. I'm just glad I could help you, at least in spirit." She pulled back. "I did try to help you another way. After I heard about the mastectomies, I actually looked on e-Bay for some Justice Bras for us." "Justice Bras?" Lexi looked quizzical. Annie smirked. "They're like Wonder Bras, but magically enhanced. They come in sets, and they even out all of the boobage between the women wearing them. See, I got plenty! I was willing to share, to give you half of what I got." Lexi laughed gleefully. "Oh, well thank you! You couldn't find any?" Annie shrugged. "They're real expensive! It's cheaper to just get a boob-job. But look at them!" She pulled back and gestured to Lexi's new breasts. "They're gorgeous!" She giggled. "Thank you!" "Steven must really like them." Lexi smirked. "That, he does!" "They must have set you back." She shook her head. "No. Not really. But tell me about EarthGuard! What do you do for them? Are you going to do the whole hero thing?" Annie shook her head. "Nah. But I'm willing to help them with technical stuff. I've been looking over Technarch's plans to revamp their whole communication system, checking for security holes and finding solutions. They really put far too much dependence on just one guy." Lexi looked impressed. "Technarch. Wow! So you're meeting superheroes?" She nodded. "I've met a few. And after you meet a couple, it's not such a big deal anymore." "But I heard something about you and Bullwhip?" "Ach! The less said about that, the better. You know, heroes? They're a lot like any other celebrities. A lot of them get spoiled by all of the attention they get. There are a few out there who think any woman is just going to lie back and spread her legs for him, but not me. I don't just spread my legs for anyone. I've got that ... what-cha-call-it..." "Paralysis?" "Principles." "Oh, of course!" "But I'll tell you, I met Olympian. Very charming, very gentle man. He's like a giant teddy bear. I thought he was getting a little flirty with me, but he was the perfect gentleman. Of course, later on, I was talking to Spectra? Oy, what a drabkeh! She was warning me off about him, and at first I thought she was just getting all possessive about him, but then she explained. A guy that strong in mid-shtup can seriously hurt a girl." Lexi winced as she thought about it. "Ooh, ouch! I guess so. Poor guy." Annie shrugged. "Yeah." She looked about conspiratorially and leaned in close, whispering. "Then she tells me he has a mistress in Australia he sees every couple of months. Some super-powered woman with a hamentash of steel. Apparently she services a lot of the real powerful heroes." Lexi giggled. "What? Is she a superhero too?" "No. She's got powers, but she's a total klutz. She can't hack being a hero. She once tried to rescue someone from a car crash, and she ripped the door off and tossed it aside, right into another car." "Oh my! Did she hurt anyone?" "I don't know. Didn't hear that part of the story. The point was that she is a lover, not a fighter. You know, I had never realized how much of a handicap that much strength can be! Like when we were taking a break from orientation, and I went into the kitchen and found Olympian in there, and he was crushing beer cans over this big pewter Ren-Faire mug, and at first I thought he was just showing off, but it's spilling all over the place and then I realized ... his hands are too big and strong to open a can of beer properly. So I asked him 'Hey, can I help you with that?', and he's like all 'No! I got this!' and I'm like 'But you're spilling it! It's all over the floor!' and he's like all 'I don't care!' and I'm like 'Yes you do! Nobody wants to spill beer! It's like dropping babies. It's really frowned upon.'" Lexi burst out laughing, and Annie continued. "But the thing is, heroes really don't like asking for help. They can be really stubborn. I guess if you have these amazing abilities and everyone is always looking up to you, you get into this mindset that you can't ever show weakness or any limitations. And we all have our weak times. But in any case, you keep changing the subject! Tell me about these!" And she poked Lexi in the chest. "How did you get them? Weren't they expensive?" "Free!" Annie balked. "Free boob-job? How did you manage that?" Lexi gave a sad smile. "My husband's cousin paid for them. He saw what we were going through and decided to step in and help us." Annie reflected on this and a look of concern spread over her face. "Really? Did he, like, want something specific in return? Like first dibs?..." "Oh, no no no! Nothing like that. No. This was genuine altruism. You see, he lost his wife to breast-cancer some time ago." "Oh, nebakh! The poor man." "Yeah. He was devastated. We all were, and we all did everything we could to help him, but every day he just seemed to lose a bit more life. The light just went out of his eyes, you know? He just got darker and quieter, and then my diagnosis came, and it just became so much harder for us to help him. And then after my surgery I was going through MY depression, and he stepped forward and offered to pay for reconstructive surgery." Lexi smiled as she reflected. "It was amazing. It was like this gift that dropped from heaven. And we were so happy, and I admit I had a moment when I wondered if he wanted something in return, and I discovered he actually did want something. But it wasn't what I was expecting. Because after the surgery, he saw how happy Steven and I were, and I saw him smile for the first time in months." As she listened to Lexi, Annie's face softened and her jaw dropped open slightly. Her friend continued. "It was a miracle really. He cheered up almost as much as I did. I think ... he realized he was trapped in his own grief, and the only way out was to help someone else. Strange, don't you think? Sometimes the only way to help yourself is to find someone with worse problems than you have, and help them." Annie was silent for many seconds, and she stared off into space. Lexi furrowed her brow and squinted at her. "Annie? Annie? Are you okay?" "Yeah..." Annie blinked and looked back at her friend. "I ... Thank you." Lexi cocked her head. "For what?" "You ... you just helped me. I was feeling trapped too. And I didn't know what to do. Until now." She smiled. "Do you have time to get some lunch?" "Sure! I've got all afternoon." "I want to tell you about a friend of mine." Lexi looked quizzical. "Who's your friend?" Annie beamed. "One of those superheroes who is too proud to ask for help. One with cancer." ------- The thunderous bass-line shook her ribs from the inside, screaming guitars reverberated in her ears, and the colored spotlights flashed and spun as she danced, transporting her into an eclectic world of savage rhythms and carnal delights. The club was full of young people, college kids mostly, and she tried to ignore the obvious age difference that set her so far apart from them. Adamantine danced hard, jumping and clawing the air, and grinding her firm ass into her new partner's crotch, rubbing up against his erection. His young hands roamed over her form, caressing her tight stomach and strong thighs. Ada grew impatient with his modest advances, and moved his hands upward to cup her breasts. Thrills shot through her body as he squeezed into her flesh, and she inhaled deeply. His scent was a mixture of manly sweat and musk which ignited her. He pinched her nipples and she oozed back into his warm, muscular chest as she danced and ground into him. Wrapping her arms up backwards over his head, she held him as she brushed her cheek against his. Light stubble tickled her face. "WHOOO!" a nearby young man screamed towards them as he saw their erotic performance, and he gave her partner a rowdy thumbs-up. Ada gave the spectator a smile and turned in her partner's arms, locking her lips to his at the earliest moment and pushing her tongue deep into his mouth. He ran his hands down over her well rounded ass and pulled her tight on the dance floor, their hips churning and grinding together to the drumbeat and rubbing his hard cock into her. She liked Greg. She broke the fiery kiss and gave him a smoldering desirous look. "I'M THIRSTY," she informed him, yelling over the music. "ME TOO." Greg took her by the hand and pulled her through the sweaty, grinding crowd towards the bar. "Two Scotch and sodas," he ordered. The bartender quickly mixed and served the drinks as Ada passionately licked her date's neck. Greg paid the man and they carried the drinks to a small table at the end of the club. As they slid into the booth, they sat with eyes locked onto each other and touched their glasses. Greg wrapped his wrist around hers, linking their arms, and together they sipped their drinks, never breaking eye contact. The alcohol did nothing for her, passing through her mouth and throat like water, but she enjoyed the taste and the effect it had on others. She leaned forward and kissed him again, probing his mouth and lips with her hot tongue, tasting and exploring him. Greg pulled back. "Whoa! Slow down!" he said, smiling. She grinned at him wickedly. "What's the matter? Too fast for you?" He chuckled. "A little. I just like to work for the things I want. If it comes too easy, I don't enjoy it." Ada pouted for a moment, but then thought about it. "Does this mean you want me?" she asked slyly. Greg leaned forward and cupped her chin, tracing his finger over her jaw. "But of course," he reassured her. "And I want to enjoy you." His finger slipped upward over her lips, and she kissed and licked his fingertip. "Oh, you will," Ada promised. "And I'd like you to enjoy me as well." "Oh, don't worry about me," she purred. "I plan to." A young and scantily clad woman walked past their table, distracting her momentarily. A flash of anger ignited within her. Fuck off, bitch! He's mine! she mentally screamed at the woman. Bursts of violent fantasies sparked in her mind. She could see herself kicking that girl, punching her, beating her senseless, slicing her open, and disemboweling her. But as she returned her imagination back to reality and her gaze to Greg, Ada noticed he had never taken his eyes off her. He hadn't even noticed the young girl. She pondered this. "So you really want to work for me?" she reiterated. "Absolutely." She found that hard to believe. "Why do you want me?" she finally asked. Greg looked puzzled. "Excuse me?" She nodded her head towards the crowd. "You're a handsome guy." He was too. Mid-twenties, steel blue eyes peering out from well tanned skin, stubbled beard, wiry black hair, strong build. "You can have any girl in this room. And there are a lot of younger girls here. Why an old broad like me?" Greg smiled as he looked Ada down and up, taking in her fabulous body. "Old broad?" She shrugged. "Well, maybe not THAT old." "I'm sensing an issue. How old are you?" Ada sneered at him. "You know you should never ask a lady that." "You brought it up! I get to ask. That's the rule." She hesitated and gave a sighing "Thirty ... ish." Greg raised an eyebrow. "Thirty ... five-ish?" She closed her eyes and confessed. "Ish." She paused a moment, hoping, almost praying, and peeked her eyes open. Instead of disappointment, Greg was staring at her with an admiration and desire. "So..." he said. "You are the most beautiful woman in this room. You're in your sexual prime. And you are powerful. Are you still wondering why I'm interested in you?" Ada blinked. She was not sure which comment shocked her more; being considered the most beautiful woman in the room, or him knowing that she was powerful. She really hadn't tried any blatant displays of power that evening. She smacked her lips. "Well, first, I'm flattered that you think I'm that beautiful, but what makes you think I'm powerful?" Greg tilted his head as he considered her. "I work with powerful people. I'm a lobbyist, so I'm constantly dealing with congressmen, senators, dignitaries, heads of industry. The powerful have an air about them. They go for what they want. They know that not all of the rules apply to them. There is a certain fearlessness about them, like they can't be hurt. You have that air too." He reached out and cupped her face again. She leaned in close as he explored her. "You've never been hurt, have you?" "Hurt?" she asked. She reflected on the word. She knew what it meant in theory, but it was just something that happened to other people. A thirty-year old memory bubbled up; her father, drunk, angry, shouting, wielding a golf club and swinging it at her mother. Her mother screaming, the sounds of bones cracking, the sight of skin splitting and bruising. The smell of alcohol, blood, sweat, and piss. But as he turned the club on her, his own child and swung it, it was nothing. Metal hit skin and bounced off easily. It just pushed her onto the soft tiled floor. Her mother hurt, but she didn't. That was the first time she really made the connection about pain in other people. Even when her father pinned her down, pulled her panties off, and climbed on top of her, it was nothing really. It was hard to get out from under him, but it didn' t really bother her. She shook her head. "No. Can't say I've been hurt." Greg stared deeply at her. "Never been hurt. Your skin is perfect. There's not a mark on you. Not the tiniest scratch, scar, blemish ... Not even a pimple or a mole. You're perfect." He pulled her close and they kissed. It was a long, deep, soulful kiss which made her heart surge and her blood ignite. Greg pulled back, and he continued "And when I kiss you, when I touch you, I feel such a strength. Such power. And with that, strong desires." Adamantine grinned. "You have no idea." Greg smiled back. "Oh, I think I have an idea. You see, I know the powerful, I know that no matter how rich or powerful you are, there is always something you still want, something you can't get. And it' s my job to get you these things." He cocked his head. "So what is it, Ada? What do you want? What are you looking for?" He smiled. "What can I get for you?" She chuckled as images of her heart's desire flashed in her mind. It made her nipples tingle and she squirmed in her seat. But he can't give it to me. She decided to change the subject. "Why are you asking me this? Can't we just enjoy tonight?" He took her hand and held it. "I'm enjoying tonight. I' m enjoying getting to know you better." "But aren't you supposed to start with 'What do I do for a living?' and 'Where do I come from?'" He laughed. "I suppose I could, but those are pretty boring questions compared to 'What are you looking for?' Besides, I already know that you're from the mid-west. Probably Michigan?" Ada's eyebrows raised. "Indiana. How did you..." "Your accent. But you're not answering my question. What do you want, Ada?" She smiled externally, but sighed inside. What I want, you can't give me. No one can, at least not yet. And if I tell you what I want, you'll leave me tonight for one of these skanks. She snuggled up closer to him, and touched his lips with her fingertips. "I want to start here..." she said, and traced her finger around to his ear and then down his neck. " ... and then go over here, and down here..." She ran her hand over his solid chest, feeling his strong heartbeat. "Spend a little time here..." Greg took her hand in his and held it tightly. "That's pretty short-term planning. What do you want long-term?" Stop tempting me. I want to tell you. I want to tell someone, but I can't. She raised an eyebrow and gave him another smoldering look as her hand dropped under the table. She stroked his cock through his pants. "This is about as far as I can plan right now." He squirmed under her attentions, and she took advantage of his discomposure. She leaned in and kissed him hard, pressing her body up against his. I want you tonight. I want you all for myself. I know you'll be gone in the morning, and I'll never see you again. They all leave me when they find out. No one fights for me. Just give me tonight. She stroked him as he pulled her closer, and ran her tongue over his as he invaded her mouth. She moaned into his mouth and sucked on his lips, and ran her hard fingernails up and down the length of his swelling shaft. The kiss ended, and she stared into his eyes. "I have a new long term-goal now," she growled. "It involves going outside." Greg grinned and looked down at his crotch. He frowned at the thought of standing up and walking through the crowd with an erection. Ada caught his glance and smiled. "I'm going to go to the ladies room and freshen up a bit. Give you a moment to stand down." "Okay. Thanks," he said a bit bashfully. Ada kissed him one last time, and slid out of the booth. She waved and wrinkled her nose at him, and headed through the bouncing, dancing crowd towards the restrooms. Outside the restrooms was the long line of anxious women standing outside the door, all bobbing their heads and swaying their bodies to the throbbing music, chatting and checking their cell phones. Ada marched right past the line of young girls and pushed the door open, ignoring the chorus of insults and complaints as she stepped inside the restroom. "Hey!" "What are you doing?" "There's a line, bitch!" She pounded on the first stall door. "Hey! Come on! Get out! You're finished!" "I'm not done yet!" the woman in the stall yelled. "I don't care. I have to pee." The woman standing at the front of the line yelled at her. "Hey bitch! Wait your turn! Get in the end of the line." Ada shot the woman a deadly look. "What are you going to do? Call me a name? Fuck off." She glanced at the stall door and folded her arms, waiting impatiently. She briefly considered kicking it down and dragging the girl out, but that would just leave her with a stall without a door, and she wanted her privacy. She did have some dignity. She blew out a breath in frustration and checked her nails. Damn, she frowned, seeing one uneven nail on her right hand. Didn't do too well on that one. I'll have to get the Dremel out and fix it. A sudden change in the audio atmosphere of the club caught everyone's attention. The music had stopped, followed by a roaring from the crowd outside, and Ada turned and saw the women in the line distracted by a commotion out on the dance floor. There were gasps of shock and wonder, and a few "Look!" and "It's her!" comments. The line evaporated as the women abandoned their treasured spots in line to see this new spectacle. What the hell is going on? Ada wondered, and she marched out of the restroom to investigate. The crowd had gathered in the center of the club and were cheering rowdily. Ada skulked around the outskirts of the crowd, trying to peek through, to see who had come in. A flash of green light from the center of the crowd shook her to the core, and she stepped up on a chair and cautiously peered over the heads. Snow Angel had entered the club to the delight of the patrons. She was grinning and floating, pirouetting and drifting, and waving at the crowd of dancers. Oh SHIT! the supervillain thought. How did she find me? Did those two bastards nark on me after I gave them handjobs? I can't take her on. Bullwhip, yeah. Quantum Knight, maybe. Multiplex, forget about him. But HER? No contest. She'll freeze me solid before I can take a step. Ada slowly lowered herself from the chair and looked about for the nearest door. Damn crowd is blocking the exits. May need to take a hostage. But then what? I took a cab here! I may need to break some skank's neck and leave her here to heal her while I get away. Ada flexed her fingers and picked out her victim. A young, thin brunette girl bounced on her toes animatedly, trying to peer over the crowd. She' ll do nicely. Ada held her hands in tight claws, and slowly approached the woman, watching her thin neck. One snap, and I' m out of here. The crowd burst into uproarious laughter at that moment, triggered by something Snow Angel had said. Ada stopped, frowned, and turned to listen to the superhero. "Just down a smidge!" the emerald sorceress was saying to the DJ. "You didn't have to turn the music off ALL the way! Just-just-just ... just a teence!" She gritted her teeth and held out her hand with her fingers measuring an inch of empty air. The DJ nodded from his booth and the music blared from the speakers once more. Snow Angel shrieked. "AACK! OKAY! LOWER! ... Lower! ... Lower..." As the music dropped in volume, the crowd laughed louder. "Oh! Jiminy Crickets! Just turn it off!" She doesn't know I'm here, Ada realized. She relaxed her fingers and stepped quietly around some patrons, towards a column, and ignored her intended victim. If not for me, then why is she here? She stepped behind the column, hiding herself from the heroine's view. Snow Angel turned to the crowd. "HIIII-iiii!!!" she called out, waving cutely. The crowd roared back in a cheerful greeting. "Are you all having a good time tonight?" "YEAHH!!" the crowd shouted and whooped in unison. She wagged a finger at the crowd. "Did you do your homework first before coming out to play?" she asked in a mock scolding voice. "YESSS!" the crowd shouted back, laughing. Snow Angel put her hands on her hips and continued in her mock scolding. "This IS a school night, you know!" The crowd laughed heartily at her, a nd she smiled. "Well, at least tell me this. Are you all using protection?" That question riled up the crowd even more, and as the partiers screamed and yelled their responses, Ada notice the superhero touch her abdomen absently. "Good for you!" Snow Angel responded after they quieted down a bit. "Any-hoo!..." She clapped her hands together, and a burst of snowflakes erupted from her hands. "I just want to tell you that I'm NOT here for official business or anything, but I'm just looking up some old friends, and checking some things out. So!" She spun around, scanning the room. "Any old friends of mine here? You know who you are! Anyone I've ever spent any ... you know..." She made the air-quotes gesture. " ... QUALITY TIME with?" The partiers laughed and whooped and hollered at that, and Snow Angel scanned the room. Ada carefully avoided her gaze, hiding in the back of the crowd. "Okay, if not QUALITY time, then how about QUANTITY time? It didn't have to be good for both of us!" The crowd laughed again at her. As Ada shifted in the back, she overheard two women in the back of the crowd whisper to each other. "Hey," said one to the other. "Does Snow Angel look pregnant to you?" The woman's friend squinted and stared at the heroine. "No, I don't think so. Is she showing?" The first woman shook her head. "No, but she's got that glow, you know? Like my sister had. You can see it in her face." Ada carefully moved away from the women and stuck to the shadows, trying to get a better look at Snow Angel. Meanwhile, the heroine suddenly locked her eyes on one young man and swooped over to him. "YOU! Hey! Do I know you?" The young attractive man blushed while his friends egged him forward, and he smiled shyly at the superhero. "Um, no," he admitted. "Well, HAVE I known you?" she pressed. There was a lot of whooping and cheering from the crowd, and the young man she had pounced upon shook his head and grinned shyly. "Noo ... No ma'am," he said in a Texan drawl. Snow Angel frowned. "Well, do you have a brother?" He laughed and shook his head. She pressed on. "A twin? An evil twin? A parallel universe duplicate? A replicant? A robot double? A time-traveling descendant? A clone? ... A sister in comfortable shoes?" As the crowd laughed and the young man blushed and shyly denied all of the questions, Ada managed to get a closer look at Snow Angel. And it was true. There was an odd look, a glow, a spark about her that reminded Ada of pregnant women. She IS pregnant! Ada realized. But what is she looking for? Snow Angel pouted, clasped her hands together, and batted her eyes. "Well ... would you LIKE to get to know me better?" The young man turned crimson, and the crowd roared and whooped in approval. And as his friends started pushing him towards the superhero, a voice called out from behind her. "Hey Snow!" She spun around, saw the man calling for her, and her eyes widened in recognition. "Bobby? Um ... Peter?" "Greg," he corrected. GREG? Ada froze in horror. Snow Angel screamed with delight and swooped over to him, embracing him. "Oh! I KNEW it was one of those! How are you DOING?" She spun and hugged him as the crowd of onlookers laughed. Ada shifted in the back of the room, catching a glimpse of the man. Please don't be him! Please don't be him! ... GODDAMMIT!!! It was him. It was her Greg. "I'm ... WHOAH!" She was still spinning him in her hug as he tried to answer. "I'm good." "It's been AGES, hasn't it? HAS it?" "Um, yeah. About two, maybe three years?" "Are you sure? Because you don't look that much older then the last time I saw you." Greg smiled. "Well, I have to say..." He looked her down and up. "You look a little younger than before." Snow Angel beamed. "OH! THAT WAS SO SWEET OF YOU!" Then she grabbed him and planted a big wet kiss on his mouth, eliciting a huge chorus of whoops from the entire club. Then she turned to the crowd. "See guys! THIS is what you need to say to the girls! We eat this stuff up!" Uproarious laughter. Ada clenched her fists and narrowed her eyes. Oh, no you didn't. Snow Angel turned back to Greg. "So! Are you absolutely sure? When was the last time we saw each other, hmm?" Greg thought for a second. "At least two years ago." The superhero fumed and groaned for a moment. "I still need to check something. Won't be a moment!" She pulled back and floated higher. "Just stand still," she instructed. She raised one finger and her fingertip glowed bright green. The crowd gasped as she drew a glowing circle in the air. Ada watched in fascination with the rest of the crowd as she filled the circle with glyphs. "How do you spell your last name?" she prompted him. "Um ... P-A-L-M-E-R." As Snow Angel wrote his name in the circle, Ada reflected on the fact that she didn't know his last name until now. The green circle flashed, and Snow Angel peered through it at Greg. She grumbled and frowned. "Arrggh! Not you," she sighed heavily through a thick cloud of frost-breath. Ada clutched at her chest as she realized what was happening. She's pregnant, and she doesn' t know who the father is! She's looking for him! "Not me?" Greg asked. "Who are you looking for?" Snow Angel shrugged. "Nothing you need to worry about." She crinkled her nose at him and grinned. "But now that I've found you again, you busy tonight?" As a chorus of whoops rose from the crowd, Adamantine flexed her fists. Goddamn that fucking bitch! I found him first! She briefly considered pushing her way to the center of the crowd and confronting her, but remembered the power level she would be dealing with. I can't stop this. Goddamn it! And I liked him. Well, maybe I can find a... "Sorry, Snow. But I'm with someone tonight." Ada's jaw dropped. Snow Angel looked just as surprised. "Really?" She looked around. "Where is she?" "In the bathroom," he responded. Oh please don't come looking for me! Please don't come looking for me! Ada ducked behind a column. The superhero scrunched her face and fingers up. "Ooh. Maybe I should head out before she comes out! I mean, meeting the old girlfriend is always like ... Awwwk-waaaard!" She sang out this last part. The crowd laughed at that, and Snow Angel gave a cute little goodbye wave to Greg. "I'll see you later, Greg!" And she spun around, floated two feet, and spun back toward Greg again. "OH! And Greg?" "Um, yes?" Snow Angel pointed one finger at him and spun it around in a tight circle. "Do that little swirly-thing to her! You remember that?" And she winked at him conspiratorially while giving him a double-thumbs-up. "She'll LOVE it!" As Greg smiled and nodded to her, she spun around to the whooping crowd. "Now where is that blushing cowboy? YOU!" She swooped over to the young Texan again and took him by the hands. "You new in town? You busy tonight?" The young Texan chuckled and blushed, and as Snow Angel gently and eagerly pulled him to the front doors, the crowd was cheering him on. "Come on! Come on! Come on! I want to show you something the tourists don't all get to see!" Anything else she said to the young man was lost in the cheering and laughing of the crowd, and as the superhero pulled her latest lover out into the street, most of the crowd followed them, emptying out the dance club. Soon all that remained behind were a handful of club employees, Greg, and Ada. Greg saw her as she stepped out from behind a column. He looked a little embarrassed. "Um, hi." Ada stared at him blankly. He shrugged. "I suppose you heard all of that." "Yeah," she said quietly. "Look, that was a long time ago, and it was just one night, but I understand if you are angry..." She shook her head. "No. I'm not angry." Greg blinked in surprise. "You're not?" "No. Actually ... I'm surprised." She stepped closer to him. "You chose me," she said with some disbelief. He still looked confused. "Well, yes. Of course I did." "But why?" she asked incredulously. "Why?" She nodded. "She's a superhero, and I'm just..." She couldn't finish. You don't even know what I am. "She's a girl, and you're a woman." Ada shook her head. "She's older than that. You know that. Why me?" Greg closed the distance between them. "Is it so hard to believe? That I would find you more interesting, more attractive, and more alluring than her?" He reached up and pushed his fingers through her long blond hair, caressing her. "Yes, I have spent an evening with her, and I know what she wants. She just wants a night of pleasure. That's it. Nothing else. She's too easy." He stared at her, and she dropped her eyes, unable to meet his gaze. "That's all I wanted too," she confessed. Greg touched her chin and lifted her face upward to him. "No, I don't think so. You want more. You want a lot more than just a single night, do you?" Ada closed her eyes as the images of her heart' s desire flooded her mind. She teared up, and hesitantly nodded. Patrons started to return to the club, noisily discussing Snow Angel's exit with the young Texan. "Come on," Greg said, taking her by the hand. "Let's get out of here." They managed to push their way through the entering crowd, Greg being slapped on the back by a few guys in congratulations for his past and future conquests. Ada followed in a daze, confused by her feelings. As they headed out onto the street and walked hand-in-hand, Ada pondered. What is happening? He fought for me. No one fights for me. No one chooses me over the good girls. And the only reason he did is because he doesn't know me. He doesn't know my past. Doesn't know what I'm capable of. He can't give me what I want. I can't tell him about myself. He wants to get too close, and I'll have to do something drastic just to get away from him. I'm going to have to hurt him. So why am I going with him? Ada looked over at him as they walked and he smiled at her, and pulled her in close to him, warming her against the chill of the evening. She leaned into him, drinking in his warmth and scent. He's sexy, and handsome, and interested for tonight, but that's easy enough to find. But he wants to know about me. And I can't do that. I can't let him get that close. His hand wrapped around over her bare shoulder and arm, and he caressed her as they walked. "Where are we going?" he asked. "Don't know. Don't care. Just stay with me." Why am I doing this? Why am I leading him on? He can't give me what I want. But what I want is ... a new life. Can he give that to me? As they crossed a street, Ada noticed the dark alleyway to their right, and decided this was a good spot. She stopped and took his hands, and guided him into the alleyway. Greg looked concerned as he saw the dark street. "Here?" he asked. "Here," she confirmed. "Take me here." She confidently walked him into the darkness, stepping past puddles of water and trash. A new life. One no longer as a mercenary for hire, no longer as a supervillain. But is that possible? Will that life let me go? Can I go straight? Do I even want to? They stepped around behind a building, and stopped beneath the light of a single bulb that glowed next to a doorway. Ada pulled Greg over to herself, pushing her body back against the brick wall, and lifted one hand up. She thrust two fingers into the bulb, shattering it, and plunging them into darkness. Greg startled. "Are you okay?" "I'm fine. Kiss me." She wrapped one arm around his head and pulled him in close, kissing him savagely. Greg was hesitant, still concerned about her fingers. "Are you sure..." he started, trying to see her fingers. "I don't get hurt." She pulled him back, sucking on his lips. "Just take me here." She pulled and clawed at his face, kissing him roughly, and rubbed her body against his warm chest. Her heart was pounding hard and she ground her mouth into his, tasting his tongue. Greg's concerns vanished and he pulled her tight, kissing her open-mouthed, and pulling her voluptuous body tight against his muscled frame. She moaned and gasped and lifted one leg up, wrapping it around him, and ground her crotch into his. They pushed back and her head hit the brick wall. Greg pulled back. "Sorry. Are you okay?" "Take me!" she commanded, and she pulled him back. They kissed hard, and Greg shifted his head, kissing down her cheek and neck. Sparks of pleasure ignited in her neck as he moved lower, and they shivered up and down her spine. At last, a real man, she thought to herself. Not another one of those damned kids. Ada moaned and undulated, writhing against the hard wall as she relished in his attentions, the rough scratchy bricks catching in her dress and smoothly sliding over her invulnerable skin. "Teeth," she begged, and she felt him oblige, gently biting into her skin. His incisors felt soft against her neck. "Harder," she pleaded. "Yes. Bite me harder." "You like it rough, huh?" Greg asked as he slipped one shoulder strap down. "Don't be gentle with me!" she gasped, smacking her head back against the brick wall again. She clutched his head and squirmed under him as he pulled one large breast free. Adamantine panted heavily as he squeezed her breast hard, and she reached down and stroked his cock through his pants as he took her breast in his mouth. He bit on her nipple, sending a shockwave of pleasure through her body. "Yes!" she cried out, and she pulled his head hard into her breast as she fondled his cock. Greg moved his other hand up her short skirt, between her legs, and inside her panties. He ran his fingers through her pubic hair and over her labia. Ada bucked and groaned, roughly grinding her pussy into his probing fingers. Her wetness soaked his fingers. "Love it! Love it!" she panted, and she became momentarily distracted by the word. Love? Does that word even apply to me? She looked down at her lover and cradled his head to her breast as he suckled her, and she pondered love. Is that what I want? Is that what I need? Is it even possible? Ada was in a dream of pleasure, riding waves of bliss and excitement as he moved upward, kissing her chest and neck, and then up to her lips. His sweet tongue slipped into her mouth and she rewarded him, sucking hard on him, probing his mouth as his fingers played with her pussy, played with her clit, and caressed her head. Her legs were open for him, instinctively wide, and she rolled her head back and forth as she kissed him. His hands dropped down and fumbled with his pants, and soon she felt his hard, hot cock pressing up against her, rubbing her opening. Her eyes snapped open as she realized how far they had gotten, and she felt down, taking his erection in her hand. She stroked his naked cock, feeling the tight, thin skin glide over the hot organ. Wetness oozed from the tip. "You're not wearing a condom," she hissed heavily. "I can put one on," he whispered back. She kissed him. "Just lick me." Greg smiled. "My specialty," he boasted as he carefully dropped down, pushing his pants down past his thighs to pad his knees. Ada panted sharply and braced herself against the wall as he pulled her panties down and over one foot. She spread her legs, and Greg nuzzled into her crotch. His hands cupped her full, naked buttocks and his hot, wet tongue ran up the length of her labia. Ada shuddered. "Oh ... Oh yes." she moaned as a burst of ecstasy flowed from her loins. She ground her crotch into his scratchy face, pushing her clitoris down towards his tongue. "Yes! That's it. Lick me here," she coaxed him. He followed her lead, licking and biting her clitoris. Sharp flares of pleasure ignited her, and Ada rolled her eyes and head back as she grabbed him by the hair, holding him to her and humping his mouth. "Oh god..." she gasped as his tongue flicked over her nub. "You're so good!" Greg replied something, but it was muffled. He licked and swirled his tongue over her clitoris, sending Ada into a paroxysm of bliss. She was enveloped in the shadowy darkness of the alley, blanketed by the cool, moist night air, and she thrust her hips forward, arched her back, and slammed her head backwards into the brick wall repeatedly as she held his hair and humped his face. The pleasure was overwhelming, and she gasped and thrashed, releasing his hair and clawing the wall as he squeezed her into his face. "OH GOD!" she cried. Her orgasm was imminent, and she bucked and contorted, squeezing her eyes shut and panting. Greg licked lower down the length of her labia, and pushed his tongue in as far as he could into her pussy. Ada shrieked. Greg pulled back. "Hey, are you..." Those were his last words. ------- Ada only screamed from shock and instinct, consciously knowing since a very young age that nothing could really hurt her, yet when the massive hand reached out from the shadows and clutched her lover's head, she still screamed. And she screamed alone. For when the creature yanked Greg up off his knees with one hand, cracking his neck in the process, and throwing him into the wall, Greg couldn't even scream or cry out in pain before he was smashed, broken, and dead. She shrieked in terror and cowered, falling to the ground and instinctively pulling her dress back up over her naked breast, as if the flimsy fabric would offer her any protection, or as if she really needed any. Greg's limp body rolled and flopped on the ground in front of her. His empty eyes looked to the sky. No! She stared at his lifeless body and saw an entire future evaporate from her life. Please no! This life. It won't let me go. Why can't I have this? As the initial shock and horror wore off, Ada looked up. And up. And up. Standing before her was ... something. It was not a man, but a 'man' was the closest word she could use to describe it. It stood between seven and eight feet tall, with bulging muscles that rippled underneath a badly fitting suit jacket, trousers, and overstretched T-shirt. Its skin was a patchwork of two different colors, strips of skin blended into each other and stretched tightly and oddly fitting over a massive misshapen skull. Its eyes were mismatched, one small and relatively normal looking, and the other, large and distorted. Parts of the whites of its eyes didn't quite match each other. Ears were large and twisted, hair had patches of blond and patches of brown. And its hands were massive claws with fingers swollen with muscles. The creature rumbled with a deep growl as it considered the girl crouching under him. Adamantine glared at the massive creature, her eyes burning in fury. If this life won't let me free, so be it! "What ... the fuck ... are you?" she asked the creature. It snarled at her, flexed its sausage-like fingers, and reached for her. Adamantine tumbled in a tight crouch and quickly rolled under its legs. Once behind the thing, she kicked out, smashing her foot into the thing's heavy leg. The creature bellowed and turned, and found her standing up in a combat stance. Feet spread, arms out, fists held, Adamantine stared the thing down. "I LIKED him!" She screamed and delivered a spinning kick to its abdomen, pushing her strength and hitting it with the tip of her invulnerable toe. The shockwave rippled through the creature's body, and it stumbled back from the force of the blow. She spun again, delivering a roundhouse kick to the creature's ribcage, followed by twin fan kicks. It only staggered back in reaction. What the hell is this thing? she wondered. That first kick should have disemboweled it, and the second should have crushed its ribs. "HEEE-YAAH!" Adamantine charged forward and punched her fist into its stomach. Tight abdominal muscles absorbed the blow, and the creature just swatted at her. The huge fist caught her in the stomach, knocking the breath out of her, and hit her with such force that she was thrown off her feet. She smashed into the brick wall, and heard her dress tear as she fell, sliding down the side of the wall. Adamantine rolled, and pushed herself back up. She glared at the monstrous man. "You're dead," she informed it. She crouched, jumped, and screamed, delivering a full kick to its hideous face. She could feel and hear bones crack as her invulnerable foot hit its skull, and the creature's neck snapped back in shock. She rebounded, flipped, landed on her hands, and flipped again onto her feet. The creature was staggering backwards, and she ran towards it, jumping to deliver another penetrating kick to its stomach. It caught her by the leg in an iron grip and swung her into the wall. SMASH! Pieces of brick flew into her eyes and nose. It swung her the other direction, into the other wall. WAM! The wall cracked under the assault, and more debris rained over her. It flipped her up over its head and smashed her hard into the pavement. CRUNCH! Ada felt the ground crack under her as she hit, and she was only slightly dazed from the world spinning around her. The impacts against brick and pavement really didn't bother her. She kicked at the massive hand currently wrapped around her leg, trying to pry it loose, and when that didn't work, she kicked the wrist, slamming her heel into the bone, snapping it. "RRAAARRGHHH!!!" The creature roared and grabbed her neck with its one good arm, lifted her, and threw her against the wall. It stared at her angrily and snarled at her, squeezing her throat. This ... is not ... good! Ada realized. She fought its iron grip around her neck, and pulled feebly at its huge fingers. She knew it wasn't strong enough to break her bones or her skin, but it apparently was strong enough to crush her windpipe closed. She struggled for air, pulled its hand, and kicked at its torso repeatedly, cracking ribs and penetrating its thick skin. God damn it! Let GO! Die you mother fucker! DIE! She couldn't break free from its grasp. She couldn't inhale, couldn't yell, couldn't escape. Her limbs burned with exhaustion. The world started to go dim, her body weak. Her legs dropped and dangled uselessly as she fought to breathe. This is it, she realized. This is how I die. The night I find love, and watch him die. The world started to turn black on her. "Muscle. Release. Stand back," came a cold voice from the shadows. The creature relaxed and opened its monstrous hand, releasing Ada's neck. She fell and crumpled on the ground limply, gasping for breath. The creature grumbled, took two steps backward, and stood patiently. Adamantine clutched the ground and her neck and hyperventilated, gasping and panting, trying to catch her breath. She lifted her head up and saw a man standing in the shadows watching her. "My apologies, Adamantine. Had I known it was you leading that man into breaking the seventh commandment, I would not have interrupted." Still breathing heavily, she peered into the darkness, trying to make out his face. Internally she cringed in terror, knowing that this creature could kill her, but she knew to show no fear. "Step closer," she commanded. The man politely obliged, stepping towards her. She could see him dressed in a fine, well pressed pinstripe suit and carrying a cane. His face was ashen and gray, eyes sunken, colorless, and lifeless. She peered at him, recognizing, and glanced back at the massive creature at his beck and call, and then back at him. "Tombspawn," she said in recognition. He nodded. "I heard you were dead." He nodded again. "You heard correctly. But since when is death been anything but a resource to me?" He could have killed me, and used me. The thought terrified her. Show no fear. "If it's such a resource, why didn't you just finish me off?" Part of her realized that if he did, she would still be with Greg. "Professional courtesy," he said, bowing. She tilted her head towards the creature. "This yours?" Tombspawn stepped towards his creature. "Is he not a most magnificent creation?" He examined its arm. "Although I must say you did a surprising amount of damage to him. Pull it straight, Muscle." The behemoth man grabbed its own hand and pulled, straightening the broken bone. A sickly green energy flowed from Tombspawn's hand and seeped into the creature's arm. "I may have to reevaluate the strength of the bones. Allow for more flexibility to withstand damage. But that may come with a cost to strength. And I do enjoy his strength." Adamantine stood up, clutching her torn dress, keeping it from falling off her body. "A creation? You didn't just find him? This is a new ability for you." Tombspawn smiled, offering himself a moment of pride. "I learned this skill in prison. They do not take their responsibilities seriously when it comes to keeping out the vermin, and I had plenty of rats to practice upon." He glanced at her. "Your dress is torn." Adamantine sneered at the supervillian. "Yeah, that happens when I get savagely attacked by giant mutant flesh-golums." "And I did apologize," Tombspawn repeated. He glanced at Greg's mangled and lifeless body, and gestured to it. A surge of green energy ejected from his hand and splashed into the body, and Adamantine cringed as she saw her lover's body writhe and stumble. "Arise, and remove your jacket. Give it to the lady," Tombspawn commanded the reanimated Greg. Greg's body stood up, its head hanging askew at an impossible angle, and it shrugged its jacket off. It took a couple steps towards Adamantine, holding the jacket out to her. Ada gasped and cringed again. Leave him alone! She squeezed her eyes shut and revolted at the sight. "Ohh, ugh!" she expelled. "Did you have to kill him?" she complained. "I ... liked him!" I may have loved him. "Death does not stop you from liking someone," Tombspawn replied, returning his attention towards Muscle's injuries. "If you want, you may continue your activities with him. He is now tireless. You may prefer him this way." "Ugh!" Adamantine winced at the idea. "No thanks. I'm not a necrophiliac." Well, that settles it. I'm stuck in this life. He glanced back, seeing that Adamantine had not taken the offered jacket. "Suit yourself. But take the jacket at least and cover yourself up. I am certain he would have wanted you to have it." Ada looked at Greg's dead yet animated body and hesitated for the briefest second, and then snatched the offered jacket. She turned her back to Tombspawn and slipped the jacket on, pulling her long hair out the back. He's dead now. Forget him. Get over it. I'm a supervillian. Show no fear. Show no compassion. "So," Adamantine said. "What brings you to D.C.? As if I have to ask." "You seem to have a theory," said Tombspawn, examining Muscle's face. "Revenge," she said, buttoning up the offered jacket. "The son of the man who put you in prison lives here." "That, he does. And most interestingly, you seemed to know this detail. Come here." Adamantine turned and glared at Tombspawn, ready to snap his head off at being ordered around, but saw that he was actually commanding Greg. Greg's body shuffled over to its new master. Tombspawn reached out and took Greg's head, and pulled it upright, repairing the damage to the neck. Tombspawn continued. "But revenge is such a petty thing, and I am beyond the need or desire for such simple pleasures. Wallet." The zombie Greg reached into its pants pocket and produced a wallet. Tombspawn opened it and pulled out the cash and credit cards. Adamantine glared at Tombspawn in disgust. Just leave him alone! No, it doesn't matter. He's dead now. Just forget about him. He's just a tool now. Still. "This is what you do? Mugging? Seems petty to me." He placed the cash into his own wallet and pocketed the credit cards. "You are correct on both counts. I am here for him, and this is petty. But to climb the mountain, one must first start at the bottom." "Really?" She cocked her head at him. "And what is at the top of this 'mountain?'" Tombspawn took a deep breath, and recited. "For in this mountain shall the hand of the Lord rest, and Moab shall be trodden down under him, even as straw is trodden down for the dunghill. Isaiah. Chapter 25. Verse 7." Tombspawn paused and looked at Adamantine. "Power." She folded her arms over her chest. "Since when did you get the God complex?" He returned his attention to Muscle, fixing the broken skull. "A long time after I learned that I could raise the dead, and the day after I discovered I could not die. Afford me this little luxury." He looked back at her. "I do desire his death. And you?" "Same target, different reason. I want his life." The two supervillians stared at one another for a moment, each considering the other. "It appears our desires are at odds with each other's," said Tombspawn. "How unfortunate." Damn. I walked into that. He's dangerous. But maybe I can turn this to my advantage. "Not necessarily," Adamantine responded. "I don't care if you kill him, just as long as I get what I need from him first." "And what, precisely, do you need from him?" Adamantine hesitated, and shifted on her hips. "Five minutes. Ten minutes tops." She glared at him. "After that, you can do whatever you want with him." "I will require him alive." She shrugged. "Fine. He may be bruised a bit, but I'll keep him alive for you." Tombspawn nodded. "Most charitable of you. But this is all theoretical. It will be difficult to reach him. He is well protected, I assume." He's interested. Good. Now reel him in. "Very," Adamantine said. "I've been watching his movements since I got here. He can turn his guardians into beings as powerful as Omega Man, and he is usually around them. When he's not, he is protected by a high security school with who knows how many super-powered teachers, and he has four EarthGuard members on duty to protect him at a moment's notice. Reaching him will be difficult. Keeping him more so." He paused, thinking. "And have you been working on this?" She smiled. "I have. I have people on the inside watching him. Boys are easy to manipulate at that age." She glanced down at his fine suit. "But my funds are drying up. And I don't have that much time. Could use some help." Tombspawn smirked at her. "Are you proposing an alliance?" She shrugged. "My talents, my information, my contacts, your resources. We both get what we want." "And which resources were you interested in?" She smirked back at him. "A girl's gotta eat! And I can't be seen in this dress again." Tombspawn smiled, and extended his arm, allowing Adamantine to take his elbow. "Walk with me this fine evening, my lady. We shall visit several automated teller machines, tax this late man's credit, and let us speak of our future." And as Adamantine took Tombspawn's arm, and they walked off together, followed by two zombies, Ada bid a silent goodbye to Greg, and focused her attention to her new future. For with this new powerful ally, she would be able to find and take Joey Harper. He was the key to everything she desired. ------- Chapter 7: Spies and History Hands ached. Feet burned. Knees shook. Back muscles knotted. His sore arms drooped just from the stress of tensing up whenever anything else hurt. Joey shuffled painfully into the small health room, which was just a place where the shelter kept the medical supplies. He rummaged through a couple drawers, found the fresh bandages and antibiotics, pulled them out, and sat on the table. One by one he bit the wet bandages from his hands and tore them off. He held up his shaking hands and examined his wounds. Red, raw, ripped, swollen, puffy, skin white around the edges. He cursed and groaned, and fumbled with the antibiotic cream. He winced as he twisted the cap, the serrated edged cutting painfully into his tender skin. Tricia walked by and stuck her head in the door. "Hey!" she yelled critically. Joey glared at her. "What are you doing? Who said you could stop?" "I'm changing my bandages!" he fumed at her. "They keep getting wet." "We've got more dishes. Hurry up." She turned on her heel and left. "Hate you..." he mumbled under his breath. Tricia stormed back into the room. "What did you say?" she demanded. He lowered his eyes. "Nothing." "No. You got something to say, young man, you say it!" Joey burned and stared at her. He didn't answer. "I'm WAITING!" Joey threw the ointment aside and stood up, holding his torn hands up to her. "WHAT DO YOU WANT? LOOK AT ME! IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?" Tricia folded her arms over her chest. "What do you think I want?" she asked sternly. "I'm doing everything you're telling me to do!" he barked at her. "You're not doing it fast enough." "I HURT! I'M IN PAIN, OKAY?" he yelled. "ISN'T THIS ENOUGH?" Tricia studied him as he stood there with his raw, red hands held straight out, showing her his wounds. She sneered at him. "Yeah. Nice little Christ-complex you've got going there. Practically a stigmata." She turned on her heel and left, calling out "Stick around! I'll get you a crown of thorns." Joey watched her storm away and he shrieked, spun around and slammed his hand against the table in blind fury, black sparks pouring from his hands and eyes. An intense bolt of pain shot up his arm as his wounded hand slapped the table, and he crumpled over the table, collapsing as the agony overtook him. He screamed and gritted his teeth, trying to endure the shock, and cursed at himself for his own stupidity. Tricia returned immediately. He looked at her hopefully, searching her eyes for anything like pity, concern, or remorse. But she just glared at him and tossed a couple rubber kitchen gloves at him. "Here. Put on fresh bandages, and put these on. Then get back to work!" And she left him. Tricia stormed out the front of the shelter, let out a shriek of fury and frustration of her own, and plopped down on a chair. "What the fuck is TAKING him so long!" she muttered to herself. She rubbed her face and took a deep cleansing breath, trying to calm herself down. "He should have figured this out by now." A short wave of nausea rolled over her, and she groaned, holding onto her chair. People on the street warped and shifted backwards and forwards for a couple seconds as she lost her center, and she concentrated, trying to restore normality. Need to meditate! she reflected. Haven't done that in a while. Once she got everyone else walking normally again, she pulled out her cell phone and checked her digital watch. Her watch was fast by about six minutes. Damn! I'm in debt again. How is this happening? The front door opened, and Gus stepped out. The old blind man shuffled slowly towards her as she put her cell phone away. "Hey, Trisha-disha! What's the word?" She smiled, relieved to see a friendly face, and patted the seat next to her. "Hey Gus. How's it hangin?" "To the left! HA!" He chuckled and took the seat next to her. "You wouldn't happen to have any cigarettes on you, would you?" "Now shit, girl! You know you shouldn't be touching those things!" "Yeah. I know. Just a moment of weakness. I'm having one of those days." "Well, don't worry 'bout it. You get used to 'em." Tricia chuckled to herself and shook her head. She rubbed her face, groaning. "Arrrgh. Gus, what am I doing?" she moaned. "He's not learning! He can be so damned thick-headed! It's been two days, and he should have figured out what I'm doing. But I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't be so..." She turned to him. "Do you think I'm doing the right thing?" Gus pondered the question for a moment, and took a deep breath. "Woman? How DUMB do you think I look?" Tricia balked. "What?" "You think I'm a damn FOOL or sometin'?" "No!" she defended. "I just wanted to know if..." "Because I tell you! I ain't NOBODY's fool!" "I'm not saying you're a fool! I just wanted to know if you thought..." "Girl? Listen! I am a sixty-seven year old, blind, black, BUM, livin' in a white man's world. And you know how managed to get to be sixty-seven years old? By not doin' DUMB things! And the DUMBEST thing any fool can do is get between a mother and her boy! Shit! I am NOT getting between you and Joey!" "I'm not asking you to get involved or anything!" "Good! 'Cause he's YOUR fuckin' responsibility now, not mine!" He held his hands up. "I ain't touchin' him." Tricia rolled her eyes. "Fat lot of good you are..." she mumbled. "Damn straight!" Gus muttered, rocking in his chair. "I ain't helpin' you. You got yourself into this, you take the responsibility." "You're the one who got me into this!" "Now don't you go puttin' this on me! You were the one askin' everyone on K street if they had seen dat boy. No. I just point you in the right direction." "Look. All I wanted was a word of encouragement." Gus shook his head. "Damn girl! What do you think I am? The 'Magic Negro' in the fuckin' movie of your life? Fuck that shit!" She cocked her head. "Magic Negro?" "Hollywood term. All them damn movies about some rich white dude who don't know how good he got it until he fuck it all up and land hisself in jail or sometin', and suddenly he's in the same place as a black dude, and this black dude tell him what he's doin' wrong, so he cleans up his act. Like the black dude in jail got hisself some magic advice that can turn a white man's life aroun'. But it don't work on HIM! No! Fuck that shit." "Well, I'm hardly a white guy," she said, glancing down at her impressive chest. Gus nodded. "You got dat right." He grinned. "Say. Why don't you go back in the bathroom and get naked like you use-ta. That always cheer you up!" Tricia smiled, recalling his optical telepathic ability. "Cheers you up too." "Dat true! Dat true." Gus rocked and smiled as he chuckled to himself. She took a breath and sighed. "Gus. You've known him longer than I have. So I need to know something. Did you teach him how to fight?" His smile vanished. "Girl? Now why you ask me dat? Like you want put the blame on me?" She shook her head. "No. I don't want to blame you. I just want to know what you taught him. So I know what I'm dealing with." She cocked her head at him. "Did you teach him to fight like that?" Gus shook his head. "Nah. He learn to fight by watching others. It can get rough on the streets. When you fight on the streets, you fight fo' your life, not just to prove a point, like you the biggest, baddest kid in the school. Nah, I just taught him how to hide. How to find food and clothes. How to read people. How to know if you in a bad situation and get yourself out." He paused a moment. "The boy knows how to live on the streets. If he thinks he's in a place dat's not right for him, he'll leave." Tricia nodded. "Yeah. He's still with us." "So he still wit' you, right?" He cocked his head. "Girl? You let me ask my question before you answer it!" Tricia bit her lip, and he continued. "Anyway, he be learnin'. He knows he got it good wit' you, so he ain't leavin'. And you doin' the right thing. I see mothers who keep their kids all locked up tight and I see mothers who let their kids run loose, and I seen both kinds of those kids turn out both right and wrong. So I don't think it really matters how much you let him do. Now, what he needs to know is what you won't take. You lay down the law, and he respects it. But he's at that age, you know? When he wants to learn, but he don't wanna listen? So he's watchin' you." Tricia shrugged. "Well, that's nothing new. He's always watching me." Gus nodded. "True, but he be lookin' at yo eyes more than yo big titties these days. Dat mean he wants to know what you be thinkin'. So he be learnin'." He took a swig of whiskey. "You ask me, he's a damn fool fo' not lookin' at yo big-ass titties," he mumbled to himself. She smiled to herself. "Time?" Gus nodded. "He needs time." He paused, and continued. "Dat right. He needs time to figure out this shit you doin' to him." Tricia frowned. That last exchange sounded kind of awkward to her, like so many that had happened before. She realized she had just hiccuped, responding to something before he said it. Time, she wondered. Who said that first? Me or him? It's almost like Time was talking, telling me what I needed to know. Gus took another swig. "Aw shit! Now look! You got me goin' and doin' that whole 'Magic Negro' crap, givin' you advice and shit!" She slapped his thigh and gave him a friendly squeeze. "You can't help it, Gus. You're too wise and too good." He chuckled. "Now you just watch where you put yo' hand! That lady will probably want to catch you doing something dirty wit' me!" Tricia frowned and looked about the street. "What lady?" "Coffee shop. Left. She be takin' pictures of you." Tricia looked across the street towards the left, and saw the coffee shop. She saw several people inside. She scanned the people. "Which one?" "Blond," he said. Tricia saw two blond women in the coffee shop, and focused her attention on them. One had a white shirt, and the other wore blue. "White shirt," he clarified. "Nice legs." She focused on the blond in the white shirt across the street. "She's taking pictures?" Gus nodded. "Of you. I can see her focusing on you. Got her camera hidden under a newspaper." "God damn paparazzi!" Tricia cursed. "I thought they lost interest in us." She narrowed her eyes in anger. "She's just waiting for me to do something undignified." Gus took a swig. "So, what'chu gonna do?" "I'll take care of her." Tricia stood up, straightened out her clothes, and took a few steps into the street towards the coffee shop. Then she pointed directly at the photographer. "HEY! YOU!" she yelled across the street. She made an extremely rude gesture. "FUCK OFF!" The woman in the coffee shop startled, packed up her stuff, and left the shop, getting on her cell phone. Tricia casually returned to her chair next to Gus. He took another swig. "You call dat dignified?" he asked. "I really don't care right now," she sighed. ------- Adamantine stormed down the street carrying her purse with the camera in one arm, and holding her cell phone to her ear. She listened to the ringing tone, and then the cold voice of her partner came on line. "Yes?" "She made me," she reported. "I don't know how she did it, but she made me." "What happened?" "I was just watching her through the camera screen, and she saw me. I was across the street, inside another building, camera hidden, but she still made me. She yelled at me. Told me to fuck off. I don't what I did wrong. I'm leaving the area now." "That is unfortunate, but it was also unspecific. Do you think she knew who you were?" "No." Adamantine shook her head as she talked on the phone. "She was too antagonistic. Like she was dealing with a normal. No sense of caution." "So she does not know what you are, but she may recognize you when you approach again." He paused for a moment. "Is the boy still with her?" "Yeah." She glanced back to see if she was being followed. "They came in this morning, but I haven't seen him leave. I just saw her step out." She stopped. "I can take her." "That is not our plan." "Your plan is insane. You don't NEED her! She's just a normal. I can take her out. I'll approach her. She'll recognize me, come out to confront me, and I snap her neck. Then I grab the boy and..." " ... and have half of EarthGuard on you in the next moment," Tombspawn chided her. "No. We do this slowly. We do this right. And we both get everything we need." "I don't HAVE as much time as you do, dead man!" She could practically hear Tombspawn grinning over the phone. "Learn patience from the dead, my dear Adamantine. Come back to the hotel. I have discovered a potential ally in the city, but we will need a specific resource. We have some work to do tonight." ------- The elevator doors opened on the fourteenth floor of the Watergate Apartments, Foggy Bottom, Washington D.C., and Annie rolled out into the hallway. As she made her way down the unfamiliar passage, past floral portraits and seascapes, she checked the door numbers. "Fourteen-oh-one ... Fourteen-oh-three ... Fourteen-oh-five..." As she pushed her chair forward, a faint sound caught her attention. Somewhere ahead of her there was something unfamiliar; a rhythmic squeaking, interspersed with a clapping noise. At first she thought it sounded like someone slapping a puppy, and her heart froze at the thought that someone would treat an animal so cruelly. But as she got closer to apartment 1415, the sound clarified itself. The squeaking was definitely a girl's voice, and the slapping resolved into the unmistakable signature of skin hitting skin. There were a few quiet grunts and groans underpinning the squeaks and squeals and slaps. Annie blushed when she realized what it was, and who it was. Oy! Thissss ... is a bad time, she thought to herself. Definitely not a puppy, but it could be doggy-style. She checked her calendar on her phone, then double-checked the time and date. Emily, I made an appointment! She sighed heavily, and decided to give her a couple more minutes. The muffled squealing and squeaking turned into chants of passion. "Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh yes! Oh yesss! Yes! Yes! Yes!" Annie sighed again and waited, hearing the noises move from one part of the apartment to another. There was the occasional crash of some object being pushed off a table or shelf, thumping noises, squeaking furniture, grunting, groaning, and straining. But the chanting was continuous. Her eyebrows moved in odd positions as new sounds emerged; buzzing and whirring sounds, rattling, and the odd burst of bells. Bells? To pass the time, Annie pulled out her phone and played a quick level of Sudoku. The passion sounds continued to emit from the apartment, making it difficult for her to concentrate on the game, and she checked the time again. She groaned, and blew out a breath of exasperation. Oy. Shoym. How long is this going to go on? An elderly woman came walking down the hallway. The woman looked at her quizzically. Annie smiled back sweetly as the pounding, slapping sounds echoed in the hallway along with the passionate bursts of exaltation. "YES! OH YES! FUCK ME! FUCK THE SHIT OUT OF ME! YES! YES! YESSSS!!!" "Good morning," Annie said to the woman. The woman eyed her curiously. Annie just nodded her head towards the door. "Just waiting my turn." "OH GOD! OH FUCK! YES! OH FUCK ME BABY! FUCK THAT HARD COCK IN ME!" Annie watched the woman as she took in the door, the sounds, her, and her chair. She shrugged at the woman and held up her hands in resignation. "Fine. You got me! I already had my turn. He fucked me GOOD! That's why I brought this." She slapped her chair. The woman's eyes went wide, and she immediately retreated down the hallway towards the elevator. "Wait!" Annie called out. "Did you want a turn? He's really good and not that expensive!" The woman disappeared around the corner. "No? All right then." She blew out another breath of frustration and stared at the door. The slapping and squealing sounds still continued, and showed no signs of stopping. "Sorry Emily," she said. "But I did make an appointment." She rolled up and pounded her fist hard on the door. "OY! SHOYM! ENOUGH ALREADY! FINISH UP, WILL YOU? A SHIS OYS IN GLEIKH AROYS!" The pounding and whining sound shifted, and there was a thump on the door from inside the apartment, followed by more rhythmic thumping against the door. "Who? Who! Ooh! Oh! Oh!" called the female voice on the other side. Annie saw the light change in the peephole, and she reached up towards the small opening, waved her hand across it, and pointed downward while whistling loudly. "OY! DOWN HERE!" The door thumped a couple times, and opened a crack. Snow Angel's face, head, and naked shoulder appeared, peeking out behind the door as she grasped the door and frame. Her eyes were glassy, her face flushed, and her hair disheveled, and she was bouncing as shockwaves of pressure hit her repeatedly from behind. Her long hair whipped back and forth, and she was breathing heavily, her breath frosty and visible. "Oh! Annie! I uh ... Oh! ... Um..." She looked surprised, then looked back behind her, and back out the door again. "Is it eleven yet?" "Past," Annie managed, her mouth gaping open at Snow Angel's audacity of opening the door in mid-coitus. "Oh. I'm sorry. Um. Just a minute!" She closed the door. Annie convulsed, shaking her head quickly in recovery. Did she really just do that? she wondered, and sighed and rolled her eyes as she heard Snow Angel and her current lover shift positions. "We have to finish now," she heard muffled through the door. "Don't want to stop," came a muffled, gruff, masculine voice. There were some kissing, smacking sounds, and she heard Snow Angel respond. "You can do it. One more! Give me one more big, hard, Texas ride! Bronco style!" The pounding immediately intensified, and Snow Angel let out a squeal of ecstasy as the door shook against the frame. Annie's eyes widened as she saw the door shaking from a continuous assault on the other side. "Oy. Leman a shem. You've got to be kidding me." "OHHH! YESSS! OH GOD! OH FUCK ME! THAT'S-IT! THAT'S-IT! YES!" she screamed. Her lover was grunting and roaring. "FASTER! FASTER! OH GOD SO GOOD! YES!" The pounding rhythm picked up, getting faster and stronger, and Annie saw beads of water collect from condensation on the outside of the door in the distinctive shape of a female back and butt and drip down, shaken off by the continuous drumming from the other side. A light mist drifted out from underneath the door. Cold radiated, chilling the air in the hallway. Annie looked left, and then looked right, and cautiously pulled her chair back a couple feet. "YES! YES! YES! OH GOD YES! I'M GONNA! NOW! NOW! NOW!!" "Cumming!" urged the male voice. "NOW BABY! NOW GIVE IT TO ME NOW! AAAAIIIEE!!!" Snow Angel screamed, and Annie jolted in her chair as a blast of green light erupted from under the door and through the peephole, accompanied by a fanfare of magical bells and tones. A web of ice grew over the door and across the walls, and then fell, shattering on the floor. The scream died, and was replaced by an ever diminishing series of gasps and moans, and the green light fluctuated and fell. Annie stared in shock as she heard a few indistinct whisperings and gigglings, followed by some thumping activity. A minute later the door opened wide, and Annie saw Snow Angel in all of her naked glory. "Hhhiiiiii..." Snow Angel slurred, posing at the door, drunk in afterglow. "Come on in, Annie!" she giggled. Annie turned her head and held up a hand, blocking her view of the naked girl. "Oy! Emily! Put something on already!" The emerald sorceress giggled and gestured, and a loose icy-white négligée materialized over her form. "Better?" she asked, spinning and posing. The frosty fabric blossomed around her as she spun. Annie carefully peeked back at her, and dropped her hand. "Much better." She cocked her head, admiring the design. "And actually, quite nice." Snow Angel smiled broadly and curtsied, kicking both legs up behind her. "Why thank you! Come on in!" she said playfully, and she gestured and floated back to allow Annie to enter the apartment. "Sorry for the..." She started to say, but winced. "Okay. Not sorry for the delay, but sorry for making you wait." Annie nodded and looked at the floor. Chunks of ice blocked the way in. Snow Angel saw them too. "Oops! Sorry. I made a mess! Boy, do I make messes! Let me get that." She waved her hand towards the ice chunks dismissively. "Shoo! Shoo! Go away!" The ice chunks flew away as if hit by an invisible broom, and evaporated into snowflakes. "Okay! Come on in!" she said, floating backwards. "Can I get you something to drink?" Annie cautiously pushed her chair forward, her eyes distracted by the flurry of activity in the rest of the apartment. Toppled vases were standing up, books floated back onto shelves, lamps repositioned, and flowers floated and inserted themselves back into vases in artful arrangements. Everything was rearranging, tidying up the place following what appeared to have been a tornado of activity. "Yes. Anything," Annie answered in a blank, stunned voice as she rolled into the colorful apartment. She watched the objects moving about, and blinked her eyes a couple of times, mesmerized by the magical activity. "How did you get your apartment to-OY!" Startled, she threw one hand up and blocked her view of the naked man and his penis. "Howdy ma'am." "Umm ... Hi," she answered awkwardly, looking in the other direction from the naked man and his penis. Blushing terribly, she stammered "Um ... Sorry for disturbing you. I didn't know she was having ... um ... company ... over." The naked man and his penis chuckled to himself. "It's all right. I reckon we needed a reason to stop." "Well. Um, I'm glad I could ... help. Be of service." Annie blushed and swallowed, still holding up her hand and blocking her view while looking in the other direction. "Could you like, holster that weapon?" Snow Angel returned from the kitchen with two glasses of wine. "Oh Annie! Stop being such a prude!" she said, handing her a wine glass. "Annie, this is my new friend Daryl. Daryl, Annie." "Pleasure, ma'am." "Shalom, and mazl tov." Annie managed to get out, still not looking at him or his penis. "Um, listen. I really feel uncomfortable about this." Snow Angel giggled and scrunched her face towards Daryl, gesturing to him with a 'go-to-it' motion. "Why don't you go find your pants, cowboy?" she snarled playfully. Daryl grinned and looked about confused. "I don't rightly know where they've gone off to." "Oh! Just check my closet. All the clothes tend to wind up in there." Daryl chuckled and hobbled off to Snow Angel's bedroom. Snow Angel watched him dreamily and made little grabbing gestures as she admired his naked ass. "Ooh, yes! Love that ass! Yum!" She spun around and let out a "Whooo!" as she drifted across the room, her feet dragging across the shag carpeting, leaving little trenches in the little-used flooring. "Don't you just LOVE a hard cock? I just love that tingly feeling in my fingers and toes after a good, hard cum!" "Yeah, um ... I'm a big fan of it myself," said Annie, cautiously lowering her guard and looking back into the rest of the room. "SO! It's so good to see you again!" she said sweetly, and she plopped on the couch, sipped her wine, and put her glass on the end table next to a box of Whitman's samplers. "We really should get together more often! Come on over here!" She patted the couch. "So how are things going for you?" She took out a chocolate, and bit into it. "Not apparently as good as things are for you." Annie looked about, trying to figure out how to push her chair forward with one hand holding her glass of wine. "Is there some place I can put this?" "Hmm?" she said, chewing. "My drink. I need both of my hands free." Snow Angel looked puzzled for a second, and then figured it out. "Oh! Um. Sorry. I'm not used to that. Just put that anywhere." Annie looked around her, confused. There was nothing nearby to put the glass on. "Um, where?" "Just let go of the glass." "Nu?" Snow Angel held her hand out and opened it wide. "Let go. Just let go." "Huh?" "Open ... Hand ... Let ... Go," she said, grinning, and flexing her fingers closed and open again. Annie processed this for a second, remembering all of the flurry of floating objects in the room earlier, and cautiously held the glass out far away from her. She watched it carefully as she opened her hand. The glass dropped about an inch, and hung in mid-air next to her outstretched hand. Her eyes widened in amazement. "Oy! Now THAT is COOL!" Snow Angel giggled in pride, and Annie watched the floating glass for a moment. "It's not going to spill, is it?" The superhero shook her head. Annie continued. "That is amazing," she said, and pushed her chair forward towards the couch. The glass of wine followed her like an obedient puppy. "That is like really handy. I could use something like that at home. Can you set us up with something like that?" The sorceress chuckled delightfully. "Umm ... Not that easy. I could put something together, but it needs constant adjustments. It could turn real 'Sorcerer's Apprentice' on you in a hurry." "Boy, did I get the wrong roommate! I could get used to this level of assisted living." She frowned at the superhero. "It's not like you need it! You should do more stuff for yourself." Snow Angel scrunched her face up a bit. "I know, but it keeps me in practice with spells. And it's so much more fun to do spellcasting than housework. So what's up?" She sucked the chocolate off her fingers. "Did you want one?" she asked, gesturing to the chocolates. "No thank you." Annie's floating wine glass nudged her shoulder, and she glanced at it, and gently pushed it down to the coffee table. "And um ... I actually wanted to talk to you..." She nodded her head towards the bedroom. " ... but in private." Snow Angel raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Why Annie. I didn't know you thought of me like that," she giggled. Annie balked. "No! Not like that. I'm serious. No, I want to talk to you, but not in front of your new shikseh-krikher. This is kind of ... official business." "Oh, poo!" Snow Angel made a face, and she glanced over at her bedroom door. She pulled one leg up and hugged her knee. "Okay, I'll get rid of him," she sighed, and she glanced back at Annie. "Do you need me in costume?" Annie stared at the ceiling. "No, but I would prefer if you put on some underwear." "Oopsie!" She dropped her knee, took a quick sip of her wine, and floated off the couch. "Back in a jiff!" And she swooped out of the room, and swung into the bedroom. Annie waited and tried not to listen into the hushed conversation that spilled from the bedroom. She sighed as she looked about the room, noting the wine glasses and the chocolates, and she overheard the words "honey", "sorry", "love", and "wonderful". There was some kissing sounds, and some rustling of fabric. Just about at the point when Annie started to worry that the fabric rustling sounds were those of clothing being removed, Snow Angel and Daryl emerged from the bedroom arm in arm. Annie was relieved to see that he was fully dressed. "I really think we have something here," he was saying. "I want to see you again." "Shh-shh-shhh," Snow Angel shushed him, and kissed him. "It was a wonderful night, and I'll always treasure it. But we have to part now." "But I..." "No." She shook her head. "This was just one night. Now you take my love, you take what I taught you, and you share it with others, okay?" "Snow..." She kissed him goodbye. "Find someone else now. Make her happy. That will make me happy." Annie watched Daryl's face fall, and he nodded in resignation. He kissed her goodbye, and stepped out the front door. "Friend me," Snow Angel called to him, and she closed the door. She turned and leaned on it, and took a deep cleansing breath. Her face had a moment of sadness, followed by a warm smile. "You know, you didn't have to get rid of him THAT much," Annie offered. Snow Angel sighed and shrugged. "Oh, this had nothing to do with you. No, he was just a fling. And a nice one too!" She kicked both feet against the door, pushed herself into the living room, and floated down to the couch. "So! What's up?" Annie took a deep breath and collected some strength. "Okay. Here is the thing. I still feel indebted to you." "What?" Snow Angel asked as she popped another chocolate in her mouth. "Why?" "You saved my friends' lives." Snow Angel chewed on both the chocolate and the compliment, and waved it off. "Oh, no, no, no! Don't feel like that. This is my job. I do that for everyone!" Annie shook her head. "No. I don't think you just do that because you get paid for it. You really put yourself on the line that day." "No, Annie. Please! This is what I do." "And this is what I do in return. And you have a problem, and I'm going to help you with it. Look. I've been doing some research," she said as she pulled her tablet computer out of her purse and turned it on. "Annie. Really! You don't have to feel like you have to pay me back or something." "Hey!" Annie pointed a finger at the superhero. "I'm doing a good deed here. Don't try and stop me." Snow Angel giggled as Annie typed in her pass-phrases. "As a matter of fact, that's a good general rule of thumb. If you see anyone doing a good deed, don't stop them. And since I am technically a member of EarthGuard, that means I have to start doing good deeds for others, and I'm starting with you." She opened a folder of images, and zoomed in on the first image. "Here. I was doing some research, and I found some old pictures of you. Now I want to know how..." Snow Angel's eyes and mouth opened wide in surprise. "OH!" she shrieked. "The old Liberty Brigade!" She excitedly pulled the tablet into her lap and gasped and giggled. "I haven't seen this picture in years! Look! That's me! And there's the original Captain Justice! And there's Hammer and Nail, Knight of Vengeance, before he turned. OH!" She gasped and covered her mouth. "Scarlet Glove. Oh, my. Haven't thought about her in years." Snow Angel fell silent for a moment as she stared at the picture, and Annie watched her as she traveled back in time through her memories. Okay. This is not what I was expecting, Annie thought to herself. I just wanted to ask her how this picture was taken. But seeing Snow Angel reminisce almost brought a tear to her eye. I should let her enjoy this. "You were a founding member of the Brigade, right?" She nodded. "Nineteen Twenty Eight. I was eighteen years old. Oh. Those were the days. The golden-age of superheroes!" She cocked her head and almost stroked the side of the tablet computer. "Things were so much simpler back then. Mostly gangsters and bank robbers." She tapped the picture. "I had SUCH a crush on Captain Justice, but then, everyone did." Annie raised an eyebrow. "So did you and Captain Justice ever..." She twirled her fingers around suggestively. "Oh, no. No. No, he was a one-woman kind of guy, and he had his one woman, and she was his. He believed in the image, and he lived it. No, we never did anything. He pretty much treated me like his kid-sister, which was nice." She tapped another part of the tablet. "Now Hammer and Nail?" She grinned. "Talk about super-heroes who lived up to their names!" Both of Annie's eyebrows went up on this. "You mean you..." "First I got Hammered! And then I got Nailed!" She laughed delightfully. "What a night that was! This was back during Prohibition, so the only way you could get a drink was to find something bootlegged, or make it yourself. Hammer, as you would guess, was pretty good with tools, and he had made a still. He made liqueurs and gin, and was aging some whiskeys. But he had to keep it a secret from Captain Justice, who would have turned him in if he found out. But he invited me over after my eighteenth birthday for my first drink, and one thing kind of led to another..." She smiled. "The next thing I knew he was pouring it over my body and licking it off, and I'm loving it." She collapsed into giggles. Annie smiled and chuckled as she watched her friend laughing at the old memory. Snow Angel regained her composure. "Wow. He was my first." She sighed. "Was he romantic?" "Oh, hell no!" she laughed. "There wasn't a romantic bone in his body! But that was fine. He was all about pure, animal passion ... just raw rutting, and I loved it. We got drunk and did it right there in the back seat of his Hammer-Mobile, and we just about destroyed his suspension system." She laughed and sighed some more. "Yeah. I got my first taste of passion that night. I saw my first naked penis, and I thought 'I have got to get me more of that!'" She grinned. "So I told him I wanted to get married." Annie looked surprised. "You got married?" Snow Angel smiled. "I wanted to." She looked up from the picture and shrugged. "I mean, I thought that was what you were supposed to do. I mean, after all, I got..." She hesitated, and her face saddened for the briefest second, but she hid it well. "Well, things changed. It didn't work out." She returned to look at the picture. Annie cocked her head. "What happened?" pressed Annie. "Now Nail!" Snow Angel continued, ignoring Annie's question. "He was only about eight years old in this picture. You know, back in those days heroes had a lot more sidekicks. That kind of dropped out of fashion back in the sixties when people started noticing how dangerous the superhero business really was. Now obviously he wasn't interested in girls then, but we met up again back in World War Two, and BOY, did HE grow up nice!" She licked her lips and rocked on the couch as she stared at the picture. "Tall, dark, handsome, muscles, package, butt! God! I just about creamed myself when I saw him. Just like his dad! He enlisted, and was in the infantry, and I saw him at an Army hospital in England when I was in the Exceptional Forces. Of course, when he saw me, he still thought of me like his potential step-mom, you know? He was happy to see me, and he tried to keep it all chaste and polite." She hummed and sighed to herself. "But it didn't take long to change his mind. Nope. Just like his dad!" She rocked and touched her abdomen. "Just like his dad," she whispered. "Except he wanted to..." She took a very deep breath and sighed. "But he died in the Normandy Invasion." She paused at the memory. "I should have been there. They wouldn't let me go, but ... I should have gone." Annie watched her, and noticed Snow Angel's fingers caress her own stomach, and she decided to not press her with the obvious question. "I'm sorry to hear that," she offered. "But I showed you that because I wanted to ask you about how this picture was taken." Snow Angel took a moment, and then looked up. "Hmm? Oh, um ... why?" "Well, it is a color photograph from nineteen twenty-eight. Those are pretty rare." "Well, yeah, but we had color photography back then. It was still kind of new. See? Look." She turned the picture around to Annie. "See how we're not smiling? It took three exposures, and you can't hold a real smile that long. Well, maybe Captain Justice could. He was that kind of a guy. But the photographer had to change lenses and use three plates." Annie nodded. "So he used a red, blue, and green filters? These are true colors, and not painted?" Snow Angel nodded. "Yeah. Like I remember Scarlet Glove wearing that shade of red." Annie smiled. "Thanks. Now let me show you another." She dragged her finger across the screen, and another picture came up. "Now this was from nineteen fifty..." "HOLY CRAP! You found one of me in the poodle skirt!" she whined. "How do you delete this?" "No. I don't want to delete it!" Annie said. "This is history." "See? This is why I don't like looking at old pictures! Look. This was the Super Club thing, which was a TOTAL disaster! This was the 'Star Wars Christmas Special' of superhero groups. God, I don't know why I did this." She shuddered in revulsion. "They tried to combine the concept of a superhero group with The Mickey Mouse Club, and it was just awful." "So this was an actual superhero group?" "No. It was more of a TV show, but they tried to get us to do these life-lessons for kids, but just because you're a superhero doesn't mean you're good on camera or with acting. And they had these fake supervillains we were supposed to fight, but we couldn't catch them because we would need them again the next week, so it just made us look inept." She shuddered again. "And then when we were attacked by REAL supervillains, we were untrained, and some of us were trying to figure out where the cameras were, or what their blocking was. I was the only one with any real experience, but..." She swatted at the picture. "No! Get rid of this! I don't want to see this again." She futilely swatted at the screen a couple more times. "How come this thing doesn't work?" Annie reached over and swept the picture away, going to the next one. "Heat sensitive screen. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories. Here. Nineteen sixty seven. Peace Sentinels." Snow Angel gasped, and she smiled again. "Oh! My flower-child look! Now this was the first time I really changed from the blue and white costumes into something really colorful. See? We were all into rainbows and tie-dye." She snickered. "Also, I was a bit more natural back then. I heard that guys were more into the 'natural look' so I stopped shaving my pits and legs." She scrunched up her face and shook her head. "Nope! Turns out they were not into it. Although one time StarGold Hey!" She leaned in close to Annie. "Have you ever tried acid?" "WHAT?" Annie jolted back in shock. "LSD. Have you ever tried it?" she asked eagerly. "NO!" she said in horror. "Got zol oophitn! No. Have you?" "Of course I did! You haven't? Seriously? Oh, man! You've GOT to try it! I can hook you up if you want!" "Please tell me a superhero didn't just say that to me." "Oh, come on! It's safe. It's not like it's addictive or poisonous or anything!" "I don't care! I don't want it." "But Annie! You get this mind-blowing experience!" She lay back on the couch, writhing and kicking her legs, sending a flurry of snowflakes into the air. "Oh, I know you would just love it! It expands your consciousness to ... to new levels, and makes you just one with the whole fucking universe!" Annie shook her head. "No it doesn't." "Oh yes. It does! You learn these secrets that just..." "No, you don't learn anything. Lysergic Acid Diethylamide may trigger receptors inside your brain that are normally reserved for ACTUAL consciousness expansion, which is a natural reward from education, but just taking a drug doesn't impart any new information." "No, Annie. You don't understand! You just gotta try it!" "No. I DO understand. I understand that the brain doesn't actually learn anything to trigger those responses, but it THINKS it has learned something because the learning rewards have been triggered. So it backtracks and tries to figure out what it is that it learned, and grabs onto anything it can find. This is why people who come back from acid trips feel like they've learned something phenomenal, but can't explain it, or if they do explain it, it's just complete and utter nonsense." "Well, you can't just put it into words that easily!" "Of course not. Because it was never in words in the first place, nor was it ever a concept that was learned." "But what about being one with the universe? That's true, isn't it?" "True, but it's not terribly deep or anything. We've known about that for a long time. It's not a big secret anymore. But it actually took a genuine understanding of Physics, Chemistry, and Astronomy to fully understand that. Science can put it into words that anyone can understand, because chemical reactions, electromagnetic and gravitational fields, and nuclear fusion are real concepts that can be learned. LSD doesn't give you new concepts." "But..." Snow Angel faltered for a moment. "But it does make you feel like you are one with the universe. That concept comes through! I know it!" Annie shook her head. "No it doesn't. The drug cuts off the basic neurological ability to distinguish the limits of your body. It doesn't teach you that you are one with the universe; it just makes you so stupid you can't tell where your body ends and other objects begin. 'One with the universe' is just a poetic interpretation of an actual mental handicap." "But..." "Look. People have been getting high for thousands of years, and in all that time nobody ever came out of a drug induced high with new terminology or mathematics. It takes sobriety and hard work to come up with actual mind-expanding answers." Snow Angel blinked as she processed this. She frowned and pouted. "But it's so fun..." Annie sighed. "Look, thank you for the offer. It was very sweet of you, but half of my body doesn't work, so I'm not about to fuck up the other half. I'm sure it was a magnificent experience, and it may even be safe, but my intelligence and my good judgement are my most prized possessions, and I'm not about to sacrifice them for a simple thrill. Okay?" The superhero nodded her head. "Okay. I understand. It's cool." Annie raised an eyebrow. "Now if you REALLY want your mind completely blown so you are walking in a daze for a week, get me a pencil and some paper, and I'll explain exponential numbers, Mandelbrot's set, and Euler's formula to you." Snow Angel giggled. "Now?" "No, not now. But just tell me this. You don't do drugs when you are on duty, do you?" She looked shocked and shook her head. "Oh, no. Never on duty." "Because I don't want you out there trying to save lives when you are tripping." "No. I only do it during vacations, and I make sure I'm covered." Annie squinted her eyes at Snow Angel, challenging her. "Really? Always?" Snow Angel cocked her head. "I don't lie." She dropped her challenging squint. "Oh. That's right." Annie grinned and swiped the tablet screen. "Next picture. Nineteen seventy six. AmeriForce." "And the return of Captain Justice." Snow Angel sighed. "The second one. FAR less inhibited, if you know what I mean." She winked at Annie, and tapped the picture. "We tried to call ourselves 'Force America', but that had been trademarked by a guy with a monster truck. He sued us, and we went to court, and we're fighting it out legally, and then the monster truck got possesed by this demonic spirit and went on a rampage through New York. Some TV station labelled the story 'Force America versus Ameri-Force', and the name stuck." Annie smiled and cocked her head at the picture. "I like the costume." Snow Angel shook her head. "Oh god. we still didn't know what we were doing. If there was one thing I learned in the seventies, it was this; You can't fight in a tube-top." They both laughed and giggled, and Annie brought up the next picture. "Nineteen eighty-seven. Still with AmeriForce." "Hyperion." Snow Angel cocked her head. "We had no idea what to make of him when he arrived," she reflected. "You know, we met him in the Time Crisis. You know about that?" Annie shook her head. "Not many people do, but it was huge. It was the biggest thing I've ever done. A whole army of us, both heroes and villains, got pulled back in time sixty-five million years ago to fight another army of heroes and villains from an alternate timeline where the comet didn't hit the Earth, and they were the super-powered descendants of dinosaurs. We had to fight them AND make sure the comet hit the Earth. Some weird entity was playing God in the timestream, studying morality and life." Annie's jaw slowly dropped open in awe as she processed this. "You ... what?" Her mind raced. Sixty-five million years ago? That was the last mass extinction event. It wiped out the dinosaurs. Annie stared at the girl in her underwear as she cradled the tablet computer. She didn't just save the human species and every possible human civilization; she saved PRIMATES! Snow Angel grew quiet. "I can't begin to tell you how terrifying that was. I saw the comet hit, and I thought the world was just going to shatter. I saw half the sky filled with fire, and I knew we were destroying ninety percent of life on Earth, and I could only think 'Who the hell were we to do this?" She paused and reflected. "How could we hurt the Earth like this? But the Earth ... she is so strong. She came back." She shook her head and sighed. "We lost some villains, and some good heroes. Metallix and Stonewall. Hyperion was in that time period, but we never found out if he was from another planet or from a completely different parallel Earth that got caught up in the entity's game. But Hyperion was the first one to trust DarkMyst." She looked up at Annie. "He was a villain first." "DarkMyst?" "Uh-huh. Started as a villain, but came out of the Time Crisis as a hero. Saw a lot of villains become heroes. Too bad they didn't stay that way." This story was more than what Annie was prepared to deal with. She swiped the picture, changing the subject. "Nineteen ninety two. AmeriForce." Snow Angel let out a single bark of laughter and cried "Oh! That leather costume!" She giggled. "Two thousand five. EarthGuard." Snow Angel sighed. "The AmeriForce to EarthGuard exodus. I couldn't believe that Bush and Cheney tried to get us to..." She winced. "Sorry. Can't talk about it. We just took our funding and licensing and left." She cocked her head at the picture. "And now EarthGuard. The Liberty Brigade, the Peace Sentinels, AmeriForce ... All of these other groups were just so ephemeral, you know. Like old friends and lovers. They come and go. I wonder if EarthGuard is going to be one of those as well?" "I hope not." Annie said. "I hope it stays around for a long time." "Me too." Annie swiped the tablet, showing the last picture. It was a composite of the previous seven images, all of close-ups of Snow Angel's face. "This is the reason I wanted to show you these." Snow Angel raised an eyebrow and looked uncomfortable. "I suppose you can guess what I'm getting at here," Annie said. She shrugged. "So I change." "You got green. You started off as a fair-skinned blond girl, and slowly over the decades turned green. Why?" "So? Don't you like it?" "It's not a healthy color. Humans aren't supposed to be green." "I feel fine!" she deflected. "Stop worrying about me. Hey! Have I ever told you how many times people have suggested I sing a duet with Kermit the Frog?" Annie reached out and took Snow Angel's cold hand. "Emily! I'm serious!" She squeezed the chilled fingers and yanked, forcing her attention. "Why are you green?" "I..." She shrugged and tried to pull away. "I don't know..." She winced. "Look. Can you just drop it? It's not important." She snatched her hand away and floated off the couch. "No. It is important." Annie turned her chair, following her. "Your healing powers emit a green glow. And over the last eighty years you've slowly changed from a fair-skinned white-woman to this ... lime-jade colored, viridian ... Look, either you're infused with chlorophyll, which is a normally a sign of a massive infection, or it's your healing magic which is continuously replenishing you from some massive damage." Snow Angel scoffed and hovered. She didn't look at Annie. Annie continued. "Do you remember when we talked in the hospital chapel? You told me you have leukemia. Not 'had'. 'Have'. Present tense." She didn't say anything. "You still have it. And it's progressing, isn't it?" "I feel FINE!" she insisted. "I'm sure you do. But your magic is still fighting it. And it's fighting harder." "Look," she said, spinning around and facing her. "It's not a problem, okay? I can deal with it. I don't feel sick." "You're not well." "Hey. Can't we just..." She swooped over and took Annie's hands in hers. "Can't we just hang out together today? You know? Just have some fun? Party a little?" "What are you going to do? Offer me a joint?" Snow Angel brightened. "You want some?" "NO! Emily! This is not the reason I came here! You have leukemia, and it doesn't look like you're doing anything about it. When was the last time you saw a doctor?" She scoffed. "Two months ago." Annie glared at her. "At Georgetown Medical Center. Yeah, I know about that visit. That was after the big Desdemona fight. I was there. You had your broken leg set. No, I'm talking about seeing a doctor about your cancer." Snow Angel groaned. "Look, I don't know ... It's been a while!" "WHEN?" "Nineteen ... Twenty?..." Annie blinked. "Nineteen twenty?" "I don't like going to doctors, okay? They always ... You know!" Annie nodded. "Yeah, I know. They want you to look at their other patients. But I discovered something about doctors. You can be firm with them. You can tell them 'No. I am here for you to see me about my problem, and I am not here to help you with your stuff.' I have to say it constantly! Every last one wants me to fix their computers." "I don't wanna go!" Snow Angel whined as she floated off. "I'll help you! I'll go with you! I know a doctor you would like. One that you can trust. At least let someone check you out and see if you..." Snow Angel turned and screamed. "WHAT'S THE FUCKING POINT!?!" There was a moment. Annie said nothing at first, but she watched Snow Angel's face as it twisted in rage. She then turned her chair towards the superhero. "About time, shvester. Something I can work with here." ------- Chapter 8 :Anger Management and Rainbows of Gray Tricia sat in the small waiting room, her legs crossed at the knee with one dangling foot bouncing nervously. Ripples of agitation shook up through her legs, thighs, torso, and into her chest. She flipped through a magazine, pretending to read it, pretending to ignore the glances of the others as her shaking breasts attracted their attentions, and pretending to not care about where she currently was. The others were giving her dirty looks, mixed in with a couple lustful glances from every male in the small room. She honestly didn't care about the dirty looks and the subdued hostility that permeated the waiting area, but her normal enjoyment of commanding the eyes of every male in the vicinity was blanketed by the sheer audacity that for the first time in after seven years, long after she had promised herself she would never have to do this again for the rest for her life, here she was, once again, sitting outside the Vice-Principal's office. She gave Joey a critical glance, and returned her eyes to the magazine, flipping pages and not even really looking at them. She tried to console herself. At least this time I'm not the one in trouble. But when she looked up and glanced into the furious eyes of Mr. Gangjeon, she knew she was just kidding herself. She was just as much in trouble as Joey and the boys. She was responsible for him, and his troubles were hers. Let's get this over with. I'm sick of waiting! The waiting was a power-play, one she knew all too well from high-school. She sighed impatiently and flipped the pages, glancing up at the others in the room. Clyde Gangjeon and his father sat to her left. The boy tried to master simultaneously looking bored, tough, and pitiful in his sling. Scratches and bruises covered his face and arms. His father, a stern looking Korean man in a crisp business suit sat rock steady with an expression of suppressed rage. Across the room from her sat Brandon Wyatt-Parsons and his father. Brandon looked the worst off of all of the boys. Large bandages covered much of his face and nose, and another was wrapped around his right wrist, which he scratched at constantly. His father, the one with the greasy hair, trucker cap, stained T-shirt, sleeveless vest-jacket, and ripped jeans looked like a filthy truck driver who had skipped last week's shower. He stared openly at Tricia's breasts from across the room, and grinned at her with nicotine-stained teeth through an unshaven face. A shiver of repulsion started in her stomach and traveled through her spine. Neal Marks sat next to him, his head and jaw strapped in a metal harness. He stared at Joey with a silent fury, and occasionally cupped his hands in odd positions that worried Tricia. His mother sat next to him, a prim, proper, conservative woman wearing an unflattering dress, two crucifixes, and rosary beads. She sat reading her Bible, her lips moving silently to herself as she read, and her eyes darting back and forth. Her eyes snapped up to lock onto Tricia's and they held each other's gaze for a moment. "Harlot!" Tricia read from Mrs. Marks' silent lips, and the woman returned to her reading. Tricia glared at her in astonishment, sighed, and glanced at Joey. Joey sat uncomfortably next to her. She could see him keeping an eye on Neal, and Joey's hand twitched as it rested on his lap. He breathed uncomfortably, as if scared. Tricia looked back and forth between Neal and Joey, and put it together. Neal is angry, she understood. And he can kill us both from where he sits, and he's thinking about it right now. A dread sense of vulnerability crept over her, and she wanted to take Joey's hand, protect him, or have him protect her. But as the desire flared in her, it was overtaken by her anger. Don't touch him, she reminded herself. She could see Joey's hand twitching for what it was. He was thinking the same things as she was. The office door finally opened, and the simple presence of something new brought a welcome relief to the tension in the room. Vice-Principal Grimes, a bald, heavyset black man in his sixties stood in the doorway, peered at the eight visitors, and nodded in approval. "Please come inside," he instructed in a rich, steady voice. The four boys and their parents all stood up and made their way into the office. Mr. Wyatt-Parsons seemed to jostle for position to get in line directly behind Tricia. She could feel his eyes on her ass and smell the beer on his breath as they walked into the room. Eight chairs were arranged in two rows of four in front of the desk. "Will the four boys please sit up front?" Mr. Grimes commanded. As the boys slumped in, taking their positions, Joey took the far right chair and turned it to keep and eye on the others. As Tricia took the seat behind him, Mr. Wyatt-Parsons eagerly took the chair next to her. Tricia groaned and crossed her arms over her breasts, hiding them from his view. Mr. Grimes stood behind his desk and waited for everyone to get settled. He watched them, gauging them with strong and wise eyes, and Tricia glanced at a framed photo on the wall beside him. A much younger version of him stood next to Stargold himself in an old color photograph. From the graininess and the color-bleed she guessed the photo was from the seventies. But in the picture she could see a young man, energetic, eager to please, and enthusiastic, standing proudly next to his idol. Now he was a toughened, wizened older man with experience and patience, but still standing proudly, almost regally. Once everyone was seated, he began to speak. "I would like to start by thanking you all for coming today, and for all of the progress we have made so far." His voice was calm and commanding. "The boys are patched up, stable, and recovering, and the legal issues have been settled. I understand that there is a great deal of animosity amongst your families, and I understand that many of you have lawyers who are advising you to press charges and sue for damages. But by keeping this within the community, by dealing with this peacefully, and by concentrating on common goals, we will be able to deal with this more effectively, without bringing harm onto others." Mr. Wyatt-Parsons sucked through his teeth noisily. "Yeah, well, it still don't seem right to me," he drawled. Now that he was talking, Tricia could more clearly smell his breath, and she shuddered in nausea. "I mean that little bastard nearly killed my boy! I don't see why I should just let that go." "That was self-defence!" Tricia snapped. "And don't you call my son a bastard." "He ain't your son," he fired back. "We all know what he is to you." Tricia balked, and he casually picked his teeth, letting the implication settle in. "He's your meal-ticket." "Mr. Wyatt-Parsons," Mr. Grimes delivered with just enough force to command silence without asking for it. "In this school we do not tolerate epithets from the students, or their parents. We teach respect. You will give Mr. Harper and Ms. Sanchez more respect than you expect from them." "Yeah, whatever," he said, scratching his ear. "It still don't seem fair to me, what with me having to pay more in hospital bills than her." He glared at Tricia. "I still think we all should sue your ass." Tricia glared back. "Oh. And is that what you think is fair? The three of you all ganging up against me? Is that what you teach your kid is fair?" "That is enough," Mr. Grimes decided with no uncertainty in his tone. "Fairness is not the issue, nor the goal. Mr. and Mrs. Riley were generous enough to drop the charges against these three boys for the assault on their son on the condition that you all dropped the counter charges against Mr. Harper. So you have little to gain from lawsuits. And by keeping this within the community, within the school, we will be able to handle the situation quickly, quietly, and with as little negative publicity as possible." Mrs. Marks scoffed. "I still think this could have all been prevented if you taught these children to RESPECT their own bodies!" Tricia squinted, unable to follow Mrs. Marks' line of reasoning. Mr. Grimes nodded sagely, and spoke. "I understand your difficulties with the school's curriculum and policies regarding the sexual education, Mrs. Marks, but we can discuss this in private at a later time. For right now, the issue at hand is the incidence of disrespect and violence." Mr. Wyatt-Parsons sniffed. "You know, my lawyer says we should..." "We TAKE the deal." Mr. Gangjeon said sternly, and not looking at anyone. "Is best." Tricia leaned forward to give him an approving look, or a visual 'thank you', but Mr. Gangjeon did not return her glance. He continued to stare straight forward at no one in particular. The matter settled, Mr. Grimes continued. He towered over the four boys, staring them down, causing them all to shift uncontrollably in their chairs. "Now the issue is punishment. And I would like the four of you to understand something very clearly. My options are limited." He let the words sink in. "When I say that my options are limited, it means that there are few punishments that I have at my disposal for dealing with you. I have few to choose from. I can assign community service, issue extra homework, reduce privileges, require counseling, or enact suspensions. And I can see in your eyes that you all believe you can handle these punishments. That you believe these to be simple to endure. That I am impotent in my ability to handle you. This is the WRONG line of reasoning. This does not mean that you cannot be punished severely. For when I say my options are limited, they are limited by ethics. They are limited by my belief that all four of you have the great potential to become exemplary members of society. "When I look upon you, I see great promise and potential. I see strength, power, speed, and creativity. Mr. Gangjeon," he said, centering his attention on Clyde. "When I look upon you, I see a rescuer. A great man, capable of pulling people from dangerous situations. Of opening crumpled cars, lifting sections of collapsed roads or buildings, saving hundreds of lives in a career dedicated to public safety." He then turned his attention to Neil. "Mr. Marks. When I look upon you, I see someone gifted not just with the ability to generate tremendous energy, but to survive it as well. This alone will grant you enormous opportunity within the power industries. Your efforts can be used to help maintain power supply and distribution to entire cities, ensuring prosperity and peace, supplying electricity during emergencies. It is well known that without power, a city will dissolve into chaos within days. Your efforts in the simple acts of repair in dangerous areas, or production, can save the lives of thousands." He then turned to Brandon. "Mr. Wyatt-Parsons. When I look upon you, I see a courier. Someone whom at the peak of his abilities can transport life-saving materials across vast distances in a fraction of the time it would take through mundane means. Whether delivering medicines, donated organs, or technical equipment, your efforts can save lives on a daily basis." He then turned his attention to Joey. "And you, Mr. Harper. I have already seen you perform the unimaginable. As a wildcard of powers, your efforts have saved the lives of hundreds to come, and I believe you have the potential to save the lives of millions in situations yet unpredictable. "This is what I see when I look upon you four. And my goal is to nurture this vision, to educate you, to transform you into men of honor, respect, and admiration. I see this promise in you. I see bright futures. "And then I see this." Mr. Grimes then turned the computer monitor around on his desk so it faced the boys. He touched the keyboard, and a video started playing. It was a political talk show with four panelists yelling at each other. "WHEN ARE WE GOING TO WAKE UP?" "THIS IS A CRISIS!" "HOW ARE DECENT PEOPLE SUPPOSED TO PROTECT OURSELVES FROM THESE ABNORMALS?" "I KEEP SAYING IT! MANDATORY MUTANT TESTING AT BIRTH! CHEMICAL CASTRATION ON DETECTION!" "I HAVE NO PROBLEM LOBOTOMIZING THEM AT BIRTH! PUT THEM IN INSTITUTIONS WHERE THEY CAN'T HURT THE GOOD PEOPLE!" "WHY KEEP THEM ALIVE? IT'S SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST! GET RID OF THEM!" "GOOD MORAL PEOPLE ARE IN DANGER!" Mr. Grimes stopped the playback, and a heavy silence filled the room. "I watched this yesterday. And according to the Neilsen ratings, hundreds of thousands of others watched it as well. And according to the website I pulled this from, tens of thousands of others have downloaded this and watched it. And I discovered something very interesting when watching this." He turned to the boys and stared at them. "At no point in their discussion did they mention your names. And the reason for this is simple. They do not care who you are. They did not ask 'Who started the fight?' They did not wonder 'Who hit first?', or 'Who hit the hardest?', or "Who was the most savage?' or 'Who went through the most pain?'. They did not care to know why you started the fight. They do not care about fairness to you. The only thing they care about is that they are afraid. They are afraid of us. They are so afraid that they are willing to openly discuss LEGALIZING INFANTICIDE on television. "The chance that some deranged person would listen to their insane reasons and become inspired through fear and ignorance to act on this accord, to find a child who is different in some way and kill that child, is remote at best. But the FACT that many thousands have seen this brings this remote chance towards certainty. And I pray to God every day that this chance remains remote, that no one will look upon these men and think they are sensible, and that no child will be harmed." He paused for a moment. "But it is my belief that at some point soon, some poor child will be taken from his mother and smashed upon the rocks by a man inspired by these men." He pointed to the screen frozen on the image of the shouting men. "And these men were inspired by you." He glared at them. "For this reason, I am not interested in being fair to you. Your actions have endangered us ALL. Never forget that you are all members of a minority group, the empowered. And we, the empowered, are simultaneously the most envied, and the most distrusted minority group on this planet. It is not fair that anyone is chosen for inclusion in this minority group. It is not fair that we are burdened with the extra responsibility. But what is fair is the fact that we must all share one burden EQUALLY. For from the day that you were born, until the day that you die, you REPRESENT us." The boys squirmed in their chairs, but shivers ran through Tricia's spine as those words hit her. And it wasn't because it was coming from an ex-superhero. It was because she realized that his words were for her as well. He pointed to the screen, to the four men frozen in the video. "These men who are not burdened with our responsibilities can do one of two things. They can fear us, or they can admire us. When they fear us, they dream up discrimination, punishments, tortures, and executions ... things they call 'solutions.' So it is our job to do what we can so they will admire us, and think in terms of what we can do for them, and not in terms of what they can do to us." Clyde noticeably rolled his eyes and scoffed. Neil chuckled, and Brandon snorted. Mrs. Marks leaned forward and slapped her son, causing him to flinch. Mr. Wyatt-Parsons, still slumped in his chair, simply reached out with one leg and kicked his son. Tricia stared in shock, and checked on Joey. He too was staring at the boys in just as much shock. Mr. Grimes watched the performance for a moment, and noted it. He sighed and lifted an eyebrow. "I can tell that some of you feel less than threatened by the disapproval of the mundane population. That your abilities will protect you, and that you have nothing to fear from them." He picked up a very large box from the floor and placed it on his desk. The box rattled with heavy metal items at it hit the desk. "Stand up, all four of you," he commanded. As the boys stood up, Mr. Grimes opened the box and extracted a huge metal chain, its links were massive weights of iron. It was ancient and corroded, but strong, and Tricia's eyes widened as she saw the several manacles hanging from it. "Extend your arms," he commanded. Everyone in the room startled at his command. The boys didn't move. "I said, extend your arms," he repeated. There was no argument, and the four boys held their hands forward. One by one, Mr. Grimes shackled the boys to the chain, locking a massive manacle over each wrist. As he released the chain, each boy strained to keep the chain lifted. "In nineteen eighty-two, when I was in AmeriForce," Mr. Grimes said as he locked the manacles on each boy's wrist, "I was summoned to the mountains of Kentucky to investigate the disappearances of several coal miners and their rescuers. Men were disappearing into the mines, their cries for help echoing from the deep tunnels. Rescuers went in after them, and they too disappeared in the mines. So I went in after them, but I did not find a single man alive. Instead, I found pieces of them. And then I found the creature that ripped those men to pieces. That creature wore these very chains that you now wear." The boys looked down at the chains that draped from their arms. Joey shuddered. Shivers ran up Tricia's spine. "I did battle with the creature, but could do nothing to it. Its hide was thick and impenetrable. Its bones unbreakable. Its strength, practically unstoppable. We fought in the darkness, and I soon realized that I was outmatched. So I did the only thing I could think of. I dragged it out, into the light. And as I dragged this roaring, bellowing thing into the light of day, I finally saw that I was wrong. For I HAD found a single man alive. The thing I was fighting was once a man. A man like us. An empowered." Mr. Grimes held up the end of the long chain, showing a set of manacles at the end that were ripped open. "Once he was out in the light, he was subdued. We removed these from him, took him into custody, and placed him in a high security prison for safekeeping. But we soon discovered that as long as he was warm, and fed, he was no problem. There was not a shred of humanity left in him, but what was left of him was easy to manage." He studied the ripped manacles. "We moved him to a hospital, studied him, researched, and in a few years, we found the truth." He stared back at the boys. "He had been down there since the American Civil War." There were several gasps in the room. Mr. Grimes continued. "He was born a slave, and became empowered. And when he was ordered to fight for the Confederacy, ordered to fight to preserve slavery, he refused. And his mundane masters decided to make an example of him. They placed him in these chains, and chained five other prisoners along with him, and then they threw them all down into the depths of the mines, possibly as an example to others." Mr. Grimes paused, and examined the broken manacles in his hands. "We are not certain if the others died from the fall, died of starvation, died of thirst, or died at this one man's hands. All that we know is that ... he ate them, and then he went mad. Mad from hunger, mad from guilt, mad from sensory deprivation, mad from loneliness ... We don't know what for sure. It doesn't matter. What matters is that the mundanes found a way to deal with him." He lifted the broken manacles and showed them to the boys. "I broke these off him. He couldn't remove these himself, but he tried. Notice the teeth marks. The ones you wear were worn by the other prisoners; the ones he devoured." Joey shuddered. "The simplest lesson to learn from being in the minority is that you are outnumbered. We live at their mercy. For all of your abilities, no matter how strong, powerful, fast, or versatile you are, there will always be at least one person out there who will figure out your weakness, and your limitations. This man's masters found his weakness, and although we have no idea what it was, I believe it did not have to be anything more complex than threatening the ones he loved." Tricia startled at that, and she glanced over at the other parents. But to her eye, she couldn't see any indication that they noticed that Mr. Grimes was now talking about them. Mr. Grimes saw the same lack of reaction, and sighed. He continued. "Your lives are linked. What you do affects your family, and every one of us in the community of the empowered. You have a responsibility to treat each other with respect and decency, and to control your reactions." He let the boys feel the weight of the chains on their arms for a minute, and then started down the line again, removing the manacles. "So as I said," he continued. "My options are limited by ethics to the standard punishments of community service, homework, privilege reductions, counseling, and suspensions. But always keep in mind that I have one final punishment available at my disposal, and that is expulsion. And if you are expelled from this school, I have no choice but to hand you off to others whose punishments are NOT limited by ethics, and by those who have no belief in your bright futures. Sit." The boys sat back in their chairs, and Mr. Grimes put the chains back in the box. He placed the box on the floor with a heavy thump and rattle, and sat in chair behind the desk. He picked up some papers and looked at them. "Your suspensions continue until the end of this week, and you are still responsible for completing any homework assignments that you miss. On top of this, I am providing for you each a copy of the television show. Your assignment is to watch that show and write a report on it. You will document every statement made in it that infers injustice towards us. Every threat of discrimination, every threat of punishment, and every threat of violence. You will attend counseling sessions. I am also assigning one hundred hours of community service. Mr. Harper." Joey startled. "Y-Yes sir?" He didn't look up from his papers. "I understand you have been proactive in this. You have already started community service, is this correct?" Joey faltered for a moment, "Yeah, but..." He stopped, and Tricia realized he was going to blame it on her. But then she saw that he made the connection, that this was a good thing. "Yes sir." he completed. "I commend you, and I am deducting twenty hours from your responsibilities." There were several gasps and scoffs from the others in the room. "That's hardly fair!" Mrs. Marks screeched. "My son was still in the hospital yesterday. He didn't have the chance to..." "NOT ... interested in fairness." Mr. Grimes said, not looking up from his papers. As Mrs. Marks' jaw dropped in her shock of the injustice, Tricia squinted and shook her head. You don't get it do you? she said mentally to the woman. He's punishing bad behavior, and rewarding good behavior. But he's not going to just come out and SAY that. You have to figure it out yourself. She glanced at Joey, and saw that he at least had the wisdom to not look smug. "The rest of you," Mr. Grimes continued, "see Miss Daschofsky outside on your way out for your community service assignments, and all of you schedule appointments to see Counselor Vanderburg. And one final note." He looked up from his papers and studied the boys. "It is obvious to me that you four boys still have issues in dealing with each other. But one more incident like this will convince me that you have no bright futures to protect, and next time, I will not hesitate to expel you. So it would be in your best interest to learn to deal with each other, and apologize to each other." All four boys groaned and shifted in their chairs. Tricia really wanted to reach out and smack Joey, but bit her lip instead. Mr. Grimes processed it. "The first of you to apologize," he said, "will be the bravest of you." He let that sink in. "Dismissed." As the four families got up and made their ways out, Tricia kept a careful eye on Joey, looking for any sign of remorse or reflection. Come ON Joey! she mentally coaxed him. Apologize! Right now! Do it in front of Mr. Grimes! He'll take more hours off. Don't you get it? But Joey just slumped and stared at the floor. She sighed, and as the others talked to the secretary, she led him to the school counselor's office. They made an appointment with Mr. Vanderburg which Joey was not at all happy about, and headed out of the school. Joey moped and slumped, and Tricia watched with a growing impatience. When are you going to figure this out? She couldn't take it anymore, and stopped in the middle of the parking lot. "Joey!" He stopped and stared at her. "Yeah?" "So? Did you learn anything?" The front doors opened at that moment and Joey was distracted by the two coming out. Tricia turned and saw Mr. Gangjeon and Clyde come out, the father simmering with anger, and his son slumping behind him. She turned back to Joey. "Well? I asked you a question. Did you learn anything?" SLAP! There was a loud slap that came from behind her, and she spun to see Clyde cringing in front of his father. His father held one hand out, ready to strike again, and he shouted at his son. "Do NOT like coming to city! Do NOT make me come here again!" "I'm sorry Dad!" Clyde sniffed. "You SHAME me!" "I'm sorry!" "He's HALF your size!" Tricia's jaw dropped and she stared in astonishment and fury as she watched Mr. Gangjeon get into his car and drive off, leaving Clyde alone in the parking lot. Clyde took one look at the two of them, toughened himself up, and strode back into the school. Joey spoke up, catching Tricia's attention. "Yeah, I learned something." He waited for her to turn towards him. "I learned that nobody cares about what happened." "Joey, you know that's not true." "Are we going back to the shelter or going home?" Joey asked impatiently. Tricia balked. "I..." She wasn't sure. Joey groaned. "I'll be in the car," he said, marching towards it. ------- "Just what the fuck is your problem?" Snow Angel snarled at Annie as she hovered in the middle of her living room. "Can't you just drop it? Can't you take a hint that sometimes I don't want to talk about something?" Her fists were balled up and dripping with frost. Annie could feel the cold radiating from her body. The superhero looked like she was ready for a fight. "My problem?" Annie said coolly. "Here's my problem. I come to visit a friend who's told me she has cancer, and I find her finishing up a one-night stand with some guy she picked up yesterday despite the fact that she normally avoids men because she is hyper-fertile. She parades around naked with no sense of decency or consideration for others. She is drinking before noon, and offers me both LSD and marijuana, two legally controlled substances even though she's in law enforcement herself. I suggest she go to a doctor, and she throws a tantrum." Snow Angel stared at Annie coldly. "You don't judge me!" she barked. "No. I will judge you, because I am concerned about you." She rolled closer. "You are a superhero, responsible for protecting this city and the people in it. I am one of those people, and so it is in my best interests that I know that you are healthy and sane. But more than that, Emily, I am your FRIEND, so I am not dropping this. The way you are living now is self-destructive. I've seen it before. I know what it's like to live with a serious persistent medical condition. I know what it does to you. Do you think I was always this together? I've had my days when I wanted to just stay in bed and crawl into a bottle of pills, but I got help. I got myself the thing I needed the most; some seriously bitchy friends who refused to take any of my shit, and wouldn't drop it." Snow Angel's face twisted. "You don't know what my life is like! You don't know what my problems are!" "Then TELL ME! Open up! Let me help you!" "I don't want to go to a doctor!" "But they can treat leukemia now. There are options. Radiation, chemotherapy..." "I know!" "But then why not? Do you WANT to have cancer?" Snow Angel opened her mouth to answer, and winced. She screeched, pulled her hair in frustration, and swooped to the couch. "Just ... leave me alone, will you?" Annie stared at her, challenging her. Snow Angel wouldn't even look back. "What the hell was that?" Annie asked. "What?" she mumbled. "That wince. You do that when you try to lie." "So?" she grumbled. "I hate that." Annie turned her chair. "You were going to lie to me. About whether you wanted to have cancer!" Snow Angel gave Annie a horrified look, and turned away. Annie pushed closer. Snow Angel pulled her knees up and buried her face into them, crying. "You actually want to have cancer, do you?" Annie suggested softly. The crying superhero nodded her head, and then jolted in pain. She then shook her head, and another jolt of pain sent her into a convulsion. Annie cocked her head. "You do, or you don't." She sniffed and took a shaking breath. "Both," she managed to say, this time without a bolt of pain. "Both..." Annie repeated, and processed. "Emily, nobody wants cancer. But it must do something for you." Snow Angel nodded, and stared out the balcony door. Tears rolled down her cheeks. "What is it giving you?" Annie persisted. "Clarity," Snow Angel finally managed. "Clarity?" She nodded. "I'm pregnant again." Annie's eyes grew wide, and her mouth dropped open in astonishment. "Well, Mazl to..." she began, but realized that this was not a joyous occasion. She closed her mouth. "I take it ... that this is not a good thing." "No. It sucks!" Snow Angel said, wringing her hands. Annie pondered it, and glanced towards the bedroom. "It can't be all that bad. I see you get to have sex with men again." Snow Angel gave a half-grin and nodded. She sniffed and wiped her tears, breaking them off her face. "Yeah. I get to do that. But I have to do the spell again." Annie's brow furrowed, and then she nodded. "Oh. Trish explained that to me. The pregnancy reversal spell." She cocked her head. "You have to do that?" Snow Angel nodded. "Yeah." "Why?" "You're not going to try and talk me out of it, are you?" Annie shook her head. "No. Your body, your decision. But I need to know. You brought it up because we were talking about your cancer." "Yeah. I did." She sniffed again. "Can you show me that picture again?" Annie glanced at her tablet computer, and immediately figured out which picture she was referring to. She took it, returned it to the folder view, and brought up the picture of the Liberty Brigade. As she handed it to Snow Angel, she said "Hammer got you pregnant, didn't he?" Snow Angel nodded. "Yeah." She cradled the tablet and touched the picture. Annie could see her mind's eye returning back in time. "I was so happy. I wanted to be a mom, and a wife." She tilted her head. "He wasn't as happy, but he agreed. He was willing to do the right thing." She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. "I know now that it would have been a shitty marriage, but..." She swallowed hard. "I was going to have a baby!" she said with a sad smile. "So what happened?" She sighed. "Second trimester. I felt it." Annie frowned. Snow Angel explained. "I'm not talking about the baby. I had been feeling that for a while. No. I felt the magic. It was moving." "Moving?" She nodded. "The magic was moving out of me, and into the baby. I could feel it leaving me. I asked it, and it said it was moving on." Annie looked puzzled, and Snow Angel shrugged. "Yeah, we talk, the magic and me. Sometimes we argue." She looked back at the picture. "It said it was going to the baby, and I knew that when it did that, I would die soon. It wouldn't be protecting me from the leukemia anymore." Annie gasped. "I didn't want to die. And I didn't want to bring a baby into the world only to die immediately afterward!" Her face scrunched up in pain. "So I knew I had to stop it." She squeezed her eyes shut. "Scarlet Glove took me to this doctor she found." "To do a D and C?" Snow Angel gave Annie a cautious look. Annie held up a hand. "I'm not judging you for that. Your body, your decision. Go on." She looked relieved, and swallowed. "Well, at the time I didn't know what it was called. All I know was I needed help, and he was willing to help me ... for a price. The thing is, back then, there weren't that many good doctors who were willing to do ... this." "Lucky you found one." She shook her head. "We didn't." Annie squinted in confusion. "What do you mean? You just said you went to a..." "I said there weren't many GOOD doctors who would do this back then." She stared off out the window. "But there were plenty of bad doctors." Snow Angel hugged the tablet computer to her chest and rocked on the couch, staring out into space, ice dripping from her eyes. Annie dipped her head down low as she realized where the story was going. "I'm so sorry you went through that." She nodded. "Thanks." She sighed. "You know, I don't blame Scarlet. She didn't know the guy. She had just heard of him through her contacts. And it's not like we had Planned Parenthood back then." Annie pushed her chair closer to her, and reached out, taking her chilled hand. "It's okay. You did what you had to do to save your life. You were protecting yourself. You shouldn't feel guilty about having the abor..." "I didn't get the abortion." Annie looked confused. Snow Angel wiped her eyes, took another deep breath, and sighed. "I was GOING to have one," she continued, "but this guy..." She turned to Annie. "First he said he had to play with me for a while. Get off, you know?" She looked back out the window. "And I just lay there on the bed and took it, because where the hell else could I go?" she said shuddering. "And he was calling me names, saying I was just some floozy, some tramp, because I got myself in trouble. And I was lying there crying, and he was on top of me, and I believed him, because I was letting him fuck me." She swallowed and squeezed Annie's hand. "And then when he finished, he took out his tools and ... he started cutting me ... And the pain was so..." "I am so sorry..." Annie whispered. "Please don't hate me," Snow Angel asked with a pleading look. "I could never hate you. You didn't deserve what he did to you." "Forgive me," she cried. "You did nothing wrong!" "I killed him." The admission stunned her, and Annie found herself staring at Snow Angel for a long time, unable to even begin to figure out what to think next. She could only stare at this young girl and watch her as the superhero buried her face into her knees in shame. "He was attacking the baby, and the magic took over," she sobbed, "and I froze him solid." She peered back at Annie, searching and pleading. Her eyes were watery and icy, and she silently mouthed the words "please forgive me" as she shook on the couch. Annie's eyes dropped down to her hand. The two of them were still holding hands. Snow Angel's cold fingers chilled her own, and Annie felt an immediate instinct to let go, get some distance, and run away. She took a deep breath, and squeezed her hand. "I'm not going anywhere," she said. "And I can forgive you. But you need to forgive yourself." Tearing, Snow Angel shook her head. "No. I shouldn't have killed him!" "He was a butcher and a rapist. I know about those doctors. They took advantage of young girls and usually left them bleeding, infected, and sterile. A lot of women died from these hacks. He deserved what you did to him." She shook her head adamantly. "No he didn't! He deserved to be arrested! He deserved to go to jail! "He was a monster, and you put him down." "He was a man," she said, shaking. "He had a family. Friends. A life. And I took it." Snow Angel looked out the window again. "I didn't want to kill..." She flinched. "Yes you did, and you had every right to want to kill him. He was hurting you. He was degrading you, taking advantage of you." "That doesn't make it right." "Maybe not. But it doesn't mean you should be angry with yourself over what happened. What you did was self-defence. You put your trust and health into the hands of this man, and he immediately abuses this trust. You had every right to fear for your own life and fight back." "But I'm a superhero! I shouldn't have..." "You were an eighteen year old girl in trouble. And just because you were a superhero doesn't mean you couldn't still be a victim. Victims can do things that superheroes shouldn't. A superhero fights for the peace, to stop, apprehend, arrest, and save lives. They live by a higher code. But a victim doesn't have that luxury. She fights to protect herself, even if it means killing her attacker." Snow Angel screeched and jumped into the air. There was a flash of green light, and Annie jolted back in panic as a cold wind blasted over her. Snow Angel was now in full costume, hovering over the couch. "NO ANNIE!" she screamed. "I AM A SUPERHERO!" She glared at the handicapped girl in fury and grabbed at her own costume. "What do you think this is? Just some joke? Some silly little costume I put on to play in? This MEANS something! It shows people that I live by a code! That I have principles! I have standards! I DON'T KILL PEOPLE! It's NEVER justified!" She swooped down and grabbed Annie's chair. Annie tried to push back in pure terror. "I don't CARE about the situation!" she yelled into the girl's face. "I don't CARE about the circumstances! I don't redefine myself to make excuses! I don't kill people! ESPECIALLY if I am the victim! Once you start looking for excuses to kill, start looking for special circumstances, then you are loosening your standards. You start thinking 'Well, it's okay this time because he was going to kill me!' Then next time it's 'It's okay this time because he would have killed others.' And then after that it's 'Well he deserved it for what he did!' Each death just justifies the next one! It's a slippery slope, Annie! I've seen it! I've seen heroes fall! And I know that it may seem like a really long distance between self-defence killing and indiscriminate murder, but it isn't. NOT WHEN YOU HAVE POWER!" Annie was leaning back, shaking in horror. Her breathing was ragged, and she shivered as the waves of arctic air radiated from the superhero. Snow Angel stared her down, and the hero's face softened. Shame and fear crept over her face, and she pulled back. "I am ... so sorry..." she whispered as she floated back. Annie was trembling in terror as she watched Snow Angel return to the couch and curl up in a fetal position. "Oh no ... I should know better. I should never do that." She looked just as terrified as Annie felt. "I'm sorry, but..." Snow Angel actually shivered, and she gave Annie a pleading look. "when you have superpowers, the hardest part is holding back." She held her knees and rocked on the couch, and stared out the window. Annie watched her, still trembling in her chair. "I'll understand if you want to go now," Snow Angel said, not looking at her. Annie clutched her wheels and held on. She wanted to run. She wanted to get out while she was still alive, but she stayed and watched the superhero. She took several shaking breaths, and made up her mind. "Emily?" she asked through gritted teeth. "I have been living with two super-powered roommates for the past two months," she said as controlled as possible. "I also have been dealing with superheroes in this time. I met a few in the hospital, several more in New York, dated one, and visited a school full of super-powered teens. And guess what I learned?" She waited until Snow Angel looked questioningly at her. "Every last god-damned one of you khamerkops needs therapy." Snow Angel squinted at Annie through her tears. "Donkey-heads," Annie translated. "I'm serious. Power is hard to deal with, and none of you should be expected to be able to handle all this power without help. But I can see that none of you ever want help. When Trish started bending time in the apartment, she started freaking out, and I tried to get her into an adult-onset-power group. But she refused, and she has good reasons. She wants to keep that secret from everyone outside of EarthGuard, to protect her, us, and her family. And I understood. I tried to get her into private therapy, but she's worried about making the therapist a target, or finding one she can trust. The school wanted Joey in therapy before they took him, but he didn't want it, and Tricia wasn't going to force him into something she wouldn't do. Sandy went absolutely nuts over the fact that she found someone she could talk to. You can tell she's been dying to talk to someone for a while. "If you don't talk about it, it controls you. I say this to Tricia to get her to open up, and now I say it to you. You've got problems. There's no shame in that. We all have problems. But if you just bottle up your feelings and don't share them, they are still there, and if those feelings don't come out one way, they will come out another. Annie sighed, feeling more calm and collected. "Look, I can see you have a stressful life, even though you try not to show it. You have these wondrous magical abilities, but they are just toying with your life. They have given you fame and fortune and adventure, but they are also trying to abandon you. They are making you hyper-fertile so you will have a child, but are threatening to leave you, killing you in the process if you give birth. I can see that would cause some stress. This thing that you are bonded with, this magical spirit, it's denying you the choice of how to live your life. You want to become a mother, but you can't. Instead, you found this solution which keeps you young and childless. So you bury that anger in an hedonistic lifestyle, filled with sex, drugs, and booze. Snow Angel swallowed and wiped her eyes. Annie continued. "You carry this guilt of killing a man, a man who eighty years ago violated you. Probably half of you thinks it is justified, and another half of you thinks it isn't. That alone is enough to explain why you throw yourself head-first into danger, living as a superhero, going head-to-head against demons and supervillains, just to make amends for this man's death. But the thing I notice is not that he was a man, but he was a DOCTOR! And he died not because he violated you, but because he was a shitty doctor, and he was hurting you. You didn't know what you were going into. You didn't know the name of the procedure, you didn't know what he was going to do. All you knew was that he was going to take care of your problem. But he didn't explain what he was going to do. He didn't explain the procedure, and he didn't prepare you for what you were going to experience. He didn't do it right. He is the one who screwed it up. You said the magic took over when he started cutting. What you did wasn't voluntary. It was an involuntary reaction to the pain. Emily. If this man didn't molest you, I think you still would have killed him." Annie's eyes widened in realization. "That's the real reason you don't want to go to doctors. You don't want to kill one accidentally again. "Emily, you are a far, far better person than I am or ever will be. If I were in your position, with your powers, I would have frozen his zakhres off the moment he pulled it out and wouldn't have thought twice about it. But you didn't, and eighty years later you still care about him and his life. Tell me. Have you forgiven him?" Snow Angel trembled and took a shuddering breath. She hesitated, and nodded. "Yes," she whispered. "Why do you suppose he did this to you?" She swallowed and wiped her eyes. "He was just a product of his time. I'm sure he was taught that women were weak and stupid, and that we were supposed to be controlled. We had just got the right to vote, and that really angered a lot of men. And they say rape is all about anger and control." She took a deep breath. "I've had eighty years to think about this, and I don't feel angry at him anymore. I feel pity." She looked at Annie, giving her a mixed expression of fright and wonder. "I've seen so much. We've come so far. And I pity him, because he never got to see how much potential women have. How much we are capable of doing." "You've forgiven him. I can forgive you for killing him, and for scaring me. But you need to forgive yourself." Annie could see a flash of gratitude in Snow Angel's eyes, and she pulled on her arm. "Come here," she coaxed the young girl, and as Snow Angel floated into Annie's embrace, the superhero burst into sobs of anguish. Annie held her close and comforted her as she cried. Her chilled body pressed against her, sending Annie into shivers, but she decided to tough it out. She comforted and held her close, whispering words of encouragement as the superhero bawled on her shoulder. Snow Angel cried for many minutes, eventually moving from a floating position to curling up in Annie's lap. It was a surreal scene, Annie decided; a superhero in full costume snuggled up in her lap and crying. As she quieted down, she eventually sniffed and let out a "I'm sorry." "It's okay," Annie said. "I shouldn't have yelled at you." "It's okay." "Thank you." "It's what I'm here for." Snow Angel then lifted her head off Annie's shoulder to look her in the eye, but a large portion of Annie's shirt came up with her, obviously stuck to her face. Snow Angel grunted and pulled on the shirt, peeling it off her cheek. "Sorry!" she laughed. "Occupational hazard." Annie started giggling as she pulled her shirt down. "Why did it ... Oh! The tears froze on my shirt. I see." "Yeah." Snow Angel giggled. "I've got weird problems." She chuckled to herself. "You should see it when I'm on my period. I sometimes need a chisel to take the pad off." Annie burst out loud laughing, and Snow Angel joined her. The laughter was infectious, and they screamed and giggled and hugged each other in a joyful mirth. After so much tension and arguing and crying, the laughter was a welcome relief, forging a bond between the two. They laughed and howled and hugged each other. "And forget about tampons!" Snow Angel added, prompting another round of screaming laughter. Annie clutched onto the girl and shook in convulsions as she shrieked in joy, and leaned forward. Snow Angel rolled back, and the two of them flipped off the chair and tumbled in mid-air, supported by mystical fields. Annie screamed and held on to the superhero, and they rolled in the air, their long hair twisting about them. ------- Chapter 9: Dressing up and Dressing down Oh, you, pretty Chitty Bang Bang, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang we love you. (sharp) And, in, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, what we'll do. (flat) Near, far, in our motor car oh what a happy time we'll spend. (flat) Bang Bang Chitty Chitty Bang Bang Our fine four fendered friend. (sharp) Bang Bang Chitty Chitty Bang Bang Our fine four fendered friend. (flat) Despite the fact that the song was playing from her laptop, Annie still managed to miss most of the notes as she happily sang along. She bounced and shimmied in her chair to the music, tapping away on the keyboard, collecting information on cancer treatment centers and reviewing details in the EarthGuard medical insurance policies. Scrappy lay nearby in his dog cage, chewing on one Mephisto Nastasia designer walking sandal, and occasionally whining and holding his paws over his ears. The dog suddenly perked up, barked once, and then ran to the door. Annie watched the dog scamper past her, and she glanced at the clock on her laptop. "You hear Joey?" she asked. The dog barked a couple more times and jumped up, scratching the front door. Annie giggled joyfully as she primped herself, quickly fluffing her hair out with her fingers, straightening her blouse, and realigning her breasts. She turned her chair towards the hallway. Her heart had surged with anticipation and she took a deep breath, trying to relax herself. As she waited and heard the key enter the lock, Scrappy barked happily and jumped on the door. She smiled and casually fingered the scratchy surface of the Velcro tether in her hands. As the door opened and she heard Joey enter and deal with the dog, she realized the tether was in her hand. Her smile fell. She didn't remember pulling it out of her pocket. She quickly stuffed it back in her sweater pocket before he saw her. Joey slumped and sulked into the living room while carrying Scrappy. The dog was licking him, but Joey paid no attention to him. "Hey, bubbala," she said sweetly as she rolled towards the couch, trying to cheer him up. "How was your day?" He grunted and flopped on the couch. "Sucked," he moaned, not looking at her. She cocked her head and waited. "I have to write a report and do eighty hours of community service." Joey finally raised his eyes and looked at her. "And then, I have to go to COUNSELING," he said as if it were a disease. Annie held back a smile. Counseling would be good for you, she thought. "Counseling is not a bad thing," she offered instead. "I've gone through it myself." He looked up to give her some attitude, but seeing her pretty face and enchanting green eyes, he couldn't bring himself to unload on her. "Well, maybe," he admitted. "But I really don't want to go." Annie smiled. Just getting eye contact from him felt like a reward, and she fought the desire to crawl into his lap and comfort him. She thought about her time with counselors after her accident. "You know, a counselor is someone you get to yell at, and they can't get angry back at you. You would be surprised to find out how wonderful that experience can be," she said with a grin. Joey gave her a smirk. Seeing his spirits lift lit her heart, and she wondered how much time they had together. She frowned. "Where's Tricia?" she asked. His smirk faded. "Downstairs," he grumbled. "What's she doing down there?" He shrugged. "Don't care." "Is she coming home?" He shrugged again. She glanced at the door, and back at Joey. She found herself trying to calculate the odds of Tricia coming home. What would she be doing? Is there anywhere else she would want to go to now? Maybe she's going to go shopping now. That will give us a couple hours at least to ... Dammit! Stop it! I can't even touch him! I promised. She swallowed and glanced at his hands. His bare fingers extended from bandages, and a couple knuckles still looked a little torn up, but better than before. She licked her lips as she imagined his fingers caressing her cheeks, running down her neck, across her shoulder, down her arm, and then into her hand between her fingers. She sighed as she remembered the feel of his gentle touch, his hand clasped in hers, his lips on hers. Gentle kisses which sparked with pleasures and echoed with tingles through her body. His lips kissing down low, over her chin and neck, and his hand moving upward, cupping her breast. Joey noticed her staring at him, and he sighed. "I miss you." Her heart shook, and she gasped, waking from her fantasy. "I miss you too." He glanced at the door, and back at her, giving her a serious look. "You never answered my question." She squinted. "What?" "Do you think I did the right thing?" Annie sat and watched him, dropping her eyes down to his hands again. She ached for him. Her own hands trembled from the desire, and she wanted to reach out and take his hands in hers, and just entwine her fingers with his. I can't. I promised Tricia. She swallowed and looked him in the eye again. "Joey, I think..." Her fight with Snow Angel flashed in her mind, and she saw the parallels. She saw how easy it was to be seduced into hurting someone, into thinking it was all right, and how hard it was to fight those instincts. "I think..." she started again, but fell into silence. I think you did the wrong thing, she said to herself. But I can see why you did it. She took a deep breath and figured out what she wanted to say. "I think that if I were in your situation, I would have done the same thing you did." The image of Snow Angel screaming at her flashed in her mind. But I would have been wrong to do it. Joey smiled at her. "Thanks." A wave of relief flooded her, and she smiled back. He glanced at the door again, back at her again, and set the dog down. "Annie?" "Yes?" "I really miss you." He scooted forward towards her, reaching for her. Annie's stomach twisted and she gasped. "We really shouldn't..." she started to say, but as his fingers caressed her hands, a warm power immediately slipped into her and flowed up her arms. "Oh..." she moaned as the energy filled her body. She could feel the familiar loving presence of Joey's power envelope her, warm her, and lift her. Her arms trembled and she dropped her jaw open and threw her head and shoulders back, thrusting her chest forward. She emitted a short weak "Oy..." as the pleasure filled her Joey lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. She gasped and tried again to say "We really shouldn't," but her fingers slipped into his mouth and he sucked on her fingertips. Warm loving energy rushed and flowed in her, and her body felt the familiar lightness that came before flying. "Joey. Please..." she tried again. WHAM! The front door flew open. "What the HELL is going on here?" Annie and Joey snapped their heads around and saw Tricia standing in the doorway glaring at them with a smoldering fury. A cold shock of fear gripped Annie's spine, and she tensed up. "Nothing!" Joey defended. "We weren't going to do it." Tricia stormed into the apartment, slamming the door closed and throwing her purse and a handful of mail on the hallway table. She pointed one accusing finger at Joey. "I'm already pissed at you for stealing the elevator when I was getting the mail, but this? You know you're grounded. Let go of her! NOW!" Joey dropped Annie's hand. The warm loving power vanished from her, leaving her feeling cold and empty. Tricia swung her hand towards the bedroom and snapped her fingers. "Go to your room. Now." The boy grumbled and grunted as he got up and marched towards his room. Annie watched him longingly as he left the room and closed his bedroom door. She turned back and saw Tricia glaring at her. "What the hell was that?" Tricia demanded. "Nothing happened!" "Then why were your fingers in his mouth?" "I..." Annie blinked in confusion. Tricia groaned and sank on the couch. "God damn it, Annie! I need to be able to count on you!" She clawed at her own face in frustration. "Arrgh! I lay down some simple rules, and I expect you to follow them. Don't touch him! Back me up! But your first moment alone with him, and you're going for his tongue." Annie shuddered in her chair. "I ... I'm sorry." She dropped her head down and looked at her hands. "I didn't even know it was happening. I just..." She looked up again, genuinely apologetic. "I guess I got too close to him. I'm sorry. It won't happen again." Tricia stared at her in disbelief. "'Sorry?' That's all you got for me? 'I'm sorry?'" she mocked. "'Won't happen again?' Jesus Annie! That's not enough! I need to know if you..." "No, that is enough." Annie interrupted with a sudden surge of strength. "I am sorry, and I promise it won't happen again. You said it yourself that this was going to be a difficult week for both of us. Well, I had a moment of weakness. I see it, I recognize it. I've learned from it, and I promise it won't happen again. That's all I can give you, and all I have to give you." Tricia opened her mouth to yell back at her, but couldn't think of anything to say. She closed her mouth and thought about it. "God damn it, Annie. Where the hell did that come from?" Annie cocked her head in confusion. "What?" "That backbone. Why the hell can't you show that around Joey?" Annie paused and thought about it, unable to answer her. Tricia in the meanwhile flopped down and lay on the sofa, her heavy breasts bouncing and catching Annie's attention. Annie's mind flashed back to happier days, times when the three of them were rolling in bed together. She and Joey would pin Tricia's arms down and attack her nipples, and Tricia would scream and shriek and kick in joy. Her mouth watered at the memory. Tricia groaned and rubbed her face. "Argh! I was right. This is a tough week." Annie tore her eyes off of Tricia's breasts and tried to wipe the sex fantasy from her mind. "I don't know if I can take much more of this. He's not figuring this out. He's not learning. He got absolutely nothing from the meeting today, and he's being so fucking passive-aggressive all the time. It's pissing me off! I have to keep telling him to get back to work. He won't listen to me! He won't think his actions, or the consequences!" "Motherhood isn't easy," Annie offered. Tricia scoffed. "You got that right. Shit. If I was half the brat Joey's been, I've got more respect for my mother now." She stared at the ceiling for a second, and then rolled towards Annie. "Hey! I need a break. And so do you. Why don't we do something tonight?" Annie blinked. "What. You mean, you and I..." Tricia grinned. "Let's pick up a couple guys and go out on dates." Her face fell. "Um, I don't know," she mumbled. She really wasn't interested in other men. "I really don't..." "Oh come on, Annie!" Tricia sat up and pulled out her cell phone. "It'll be fun! We'll get some dinner, some drinks, go dancing, listen to some good music ... Matilda says we're supposed to do it." She opened her list in her cell phone. "She's even given you a list of guys who are interested in you. Guys she's vetted! Done background checks, everything! Hell of a service right there!" Annie looked at her hands. "Yeah, but they don't look too interesting." She glanced at the door to Joey's room. "And besides, I don't know how to ... I can't just call a guy..." Tricia scoffed as she flipped her hair away from her ear. "Oh come on, Annie! It's easy!" She picked a name and hit the call button. "Watch, and learn!" she said with a wink, and she held the phone to her ear and waited. "Seriously, Trish. I don't want to..." "Hiii!" Tricia sultrily slurred into the phone. She had transformed completely. "It's Tricia. Tricia Sanchez ... Yeah! Long time!" Annie watched with a dumbfounded expression as Tricia leaned back on the couch, stretching and writhing and twirling one lock of hair around her finger. "So I was just thinking about you..." she growled. "Haven't seen you for a while. I thought maybe you would like to get together tonight? Catch up?" She listened and grinned, tilting her head and shifting her body. "Well, it's not too late to start, is it? How does dinner sound?" Her grin turned to a broad smile. "Bueno. Why don't we meet at Ceiba's? 7:30? ... Don't worry. I've got connections." She flipped her hair back in triumph. "Great! I'll see you then. ¡Hasta noche!" Tricia closed her phone and stared at Annie. Her entire demeanor shifted back in an instant, transforming her from the sultry vixen back into a stern and strong woman. "See? It's THAT EASY!" she scolded her roommate. "Now you try it!" Annie hesitated. "Um ... I..." "Listen to me! Get your phone out and call someone!" Annie grimaced. "Oh come on, Annie! Have a little faith in yourself! You're hot! You can get any guy you want, and he'll be thrilled if you make the first move!" She shook her head. "No," she said shyly. "I'm not really that interested in..." Tricia blew out a frustration breath and jumped off the couch. "Fine! Suit yourself! If you're not going to listen to me and just going to stay home and sulk, that's your problem. I'm going out!" And she headed into their bedroom to change. Annie heaved a heavy sigh and stared at her hands for a moment. What other man could give me what Joey gives me? She looked over at Joey's bedroom and stared at the door longingly. Tricia stepped back into the room and stared at her accusingly. "What?" Annie asked innocently. "Oh, I see what this is," said Tricia as she sauntered back into the room. "You're just waiting for me to leave so you can have him all to yourself, right?" "No!" Annie objected. "I'm not going to do anything with him!" Tricia walked right up to Annie and leaned down, bracing herself on her chair. She stuck her face directly into Annie's, forcing the girl to lean back. "Look me in the eye and tell me that," she challenged, glaring at her. "I'm NOT going to do anything with him!" Annie defended. Tricia stared her down, scrutinizing her. "Yeah, right," she said. "Nothing is going to happen." "Right! You can trust me! Now can you get out of my face?" "So if I checked your pockets right now, I won't find a Velcro tether?" Annie balked. Tricia sighed, stood up, and walked to the patio door, pulling out her cell phone. "Yeah, I believe you. Nothing will happen." She dialed and listened to the phone. "Because I'm not leaving you alone with him!" Annie's jaw dropped in indignation as she watched Tricia on the phone. "Yeah. Hi! It's me," Tricia said into the phone. "I was wondering if you could do me a solid? Can you take Joey for the night?" "Who are you calling?" Annie asked. Tricia ignored her. "No, I understand you're busy, but you don't need to watch him. Just take him to your place and leave him there, if that's okay? I just need him out of the apartment tonight." She looked at Annie but continued talking on the phone. "Joey's grounded, and I intend for him to STAY on the ground, if you know what I mean." Annie narrowed her eyes in a fury. "Now hold on a second!" she started. "Thanks! I owe you! See you in a few!" Tricia closed her phone and looked at her smugly. "Trish!" Annie shouted. "What the hell is this? I told you I'm sorry, and it won't happen again now why are you..." VRUUMM! Quantum Knight appeared on the balcony. Tricia slid the door open. "Hi. Come on in," she said. "I don't have a lot of time," said the superhero as she stepped inside. "Hi Annie." "Don't worry," said Tricia as she marched to Joey's room. "This won't take long. Thanks for this." She pounded on the door. "JOEY! COME OUT HERE!" "WHY?" he called back. "BECAUSE YOU ARE LEAVING, THAT'S WHY!" Annie stared at Tricia in shock. "Don't say that to him!" Joey swung the door open, looking astounded and confused. "What did you say?" He then saw Quantum Knight in the room, and gave her a furious look. "What's she doing here?" "You're spending the night at her place tonight," Tricia informed him. "LIKE HELL I AM!" Joey shouted, and he stormed back into his room. "GET BACK OUT HERE!" Tricia yelled. "NO!" Joey yelled back. Tricia stormed into Joey's room after him. Annie could hear her yelling at him. "I GAVE YOU AN ORDER, YOUNG MAN!" "SO?" Quantum Knight sighed, and turned to Annie. "Damn, I hate these domestic disputes. I'll take care of him." She headed for the room. Annie gave the superhero an angry glare. "So, you're just going to take her side? You don't think I can handle myself around him, do you?" The superhero stopped, sighed again, and turned back to her. "Annie, look. I'm sorry that you feel I'm slighting you, or taking sides, but the simple truth is I just don't have time to give this all of the attention you three deserve. There have been two supervillain sightings in the city this past week, and I'm trying to track them down. And I'm sorry, but that takes precedence over your feelings. Now, taking him to my place for an evening isn't going to hurt him, and it's not going to hurt you. I'm not saying I don't trust you, or I agree with Tricia. I just don't have time to argue about it. Okay?" Annie fell into a silence, and Quantum Knight took that as an agreement. She walked into Joey's room. There was a bit more arguing, more yelling, and some discussion, and then Annie heard the familiar sound of Quantum Knight as she teleported away with Joey. Tricia came out of the empty room, rubbing her hands clean. "There!" she said satisfactorily. "Now! I'm going out on a date! You don't need the bathroom for a while, do you?" Annie just stared at Tricia with a growing fury. "Good!" Tricia declared, and with a smile she strutted into the bathroom, swinging her hips to a salsa beat and humming to herself. Annie sat and stewed for several minutes, listening to her roommate get in the shower. "Ruin my evening will you?" she muttered to herself. She then pulled out her cell phone, found a number, and dialed it. "Well. Two can play at that game!" ------- VRUUMM! As soon as they arrived in the bedroom, Joey angrily pushed himself out of Quantum Knight's grasp and sulked on her bed. He glared at her in indignation as she pulled her mask back and grabbed a towel. "Okay. So you're angry with me. I understand," said Sandy as she rubbed her hair dry. "I arrested you, and you're still pissed off at me. Don't really care. Here is the situation." She dropped the towel and stared at him. "There are two supervillians loose in the city, and they both claim that they are not here for you. I don't buy it. My highest priority is trying to find out where they are and what they are up to. In the meantime, you are going to stay here alone. You keep your bracelet on, and you stay inside. You leave, or you take it off, and I will know instantly. You cannot outrun me. You go near my weapons stash or touch a weapon, and I will know instantly. If you misbehave in any way, and I don't show up immediately to stop you, it is not because you are clever and getting away with something; it is because I am busy saving someone's life, and you are distracting me, endangering someone else. Stay put, and stay out of trouble. Help yourself to anything in the fridge. And always remember; You are here because of my generosity. I am in EarthGuard. And if I need to, I have access to other places I can put you. Places that do not have a comfortable bed, food, clean toilets, a sympathetic cat, and cable TV. Got it?" Joey dropped his attitude. "Yeah, I got it," he muttered. Sandy nodded. "Good." She turned to her desktop computer and checked her mail. "Why did you arrest me?" Joey asked. Sandy sighed and turned to him. "Because you were hurting those boys." "But did you know what they were doing to us?" "I got the picture when I got there." "Well I just did what you were going to do! I took them out!" Sandy sighed. "I don't have time for..." She groaned and decided to make some time. "Fine! Look. No, you didn't do what I would have done. I would have done only what I needed to do to stop the fight and take them into custody. First I would have taken you and that other boy out of the area. Then I would have returned to catch those three. Speedsters are easy. I just get in front of them and trip them when they are running. They carry so much momentum that once they lose their balance they take themselves out. The lightning projector? Easy. Teleport above him and do one kick to the head. Even if he gets in a shot at me first, lightning needs a circuit through the Earth to do any real damage, and air is a hell of an insulator. Then I handcuff both his arms to the fire escape, and he's grounded, effectively powerless. And as for the brick, I get behind him and put him in a sleeper hold. He's out in five seconds. "There was no need for that much blood. There was no need for the torture. There was no need for that humiliation." Joey shook his head. "No, you don't understand. You don't know these guys. They DESERVED it!" "Yeah, I'm sure it feels that way." She put her hands on her hips. "Joey, look. You're a provisional member of EarthGuard now. That only means you have access to some of our resources and we can use you in a crisis. But it doesn't mean you are recognized as a superhero yet. You want to be a full member? They make you take a few college credits in Civics first. Let me boil it down for you. When we get hurt, we want vengeance. We want justice. That's natural. That's part of our ancient survival skills. But victims don't have the ability to fairly measure out justice and punishment. They believe they can, but they can't. When given the chance to punish, victims will become more merciless and unforgiving than their assailants. Power just does that to people. There is a reason why we separate the four roles of victim, jury, judge, and executioner." She counted these off on her fingers. "Those are the ones who got hurt, the ones who decides who is guilty, the one who decides what the punishment is, and the ones who get to inflict the punishment. These have to be four separate groups of people. If one person gets two of these roles, he abuses the power." She pointed her thumb at herself. "The worst people I have to deal with are those who are all four of these roles. They are the ones who have been hurt, find that they have some power, and go on a killing spree against every person they arbitrarily declare is guilty. These are not supervillains. These are vigilantes, and once they find out I am after them, they set their sights on me, and will declare me just as guilty as whoever wronged them, and will do whatever they can to kill me. At least a supervillain can be reasoned with, or will try to escape. What you were doing was vigilantism, not hero work." Joey just stared at the floor, unable to meet her gaze. Sandy cocked her head and softened her stance. "Why didn't you call me?" she asked. He shrugged. "Don't know." "Is it because you didn't want to be rescued by a woman?" He snapped his head up and glared at her. "No!" "Then what was it?" Joey jumped up and paced the floor. "I just ... I knew I could handle it, okay? I've been in fights before, and I ... I didn't want you to just ... swoop in and ... take it all. You know?" "Take it all? What are you talking about?" "You know! The fight! Just..." Sandy squinted at him. "The fight? Take the fight? Like it was something you wanted? What is this?" She snapped at him. "You didn't want me to take the fight from you? What? Take the credit? The glory? The FUN? You think this is what it's all about?" Joey stood his ground and yelled at her. "It was MY FIGHT! They attacked ME! So I had to show them what happens when they piss me off!" Sandy stormed up to him. "No Joey, you don't! You are in EarthGuard now, which means when you are attacked, you show them what happens when they attack EARTHGUARD! You let them know that when they attack one of us, they attack ALL of us!" "Oh, so now I'm a full member of the team, right?" "Don't change the subject." "No, you brought it up! How am I supposed to think I'm in group when all I'm doing is going to school and hiding inside? You're the one out looking for supervillians! If they're looking for me, let me help! I can find them!" "You're in school right now because that's what you need. And you are not out in the field because you are not ready yet. You're untrained." "I can handle myself in a fight! I've proved that!" Sandy poked a finger in his chest. "No. If anything, that fight proved that you CAN'T handle yourself in a fight. The only thing it proved is that you have enough strength and savagery to brutalize three kids. But it showed me that you can't control your anger." "And you can?" Sandy glared at him. "Every one of us in or out of costume fights a battle every day to keep our anger in check. Anger is a hell of a source of inspiration, but it comes with the worst possible instructions. We heroes don't do this to satisfy our anger or thirst for vengeance. We do this to protect people. To help people. INCLUDING the ones we're angry at! What? You think that fighting is all about winning? Trying to make ourselves feel good? The sole reason we get into a fight is to STOP the fight! Not to punish, and not to serve ourselves." Joey fumed at her, but didn't say anything. Sandy chuckled to herself. "You're still pissed at me, aren't you?" she asked. "Yeah," he snarled. She gave him a grin and shifted on her hips. "Good! Do you know what superheroes do to deal with anger?" He shrugged. "No. What?" She smirked at him and pulled her gloves off, dropping them to the floor as she strutted across the bedroom around the bed, unzipping the front of her costume along the way. Joey's jaw dropped as he watched her pick up a terrycloth robe hanging from the bathroom door and turn towards him. The naked skin of her chest glistened with sweat, demanding his attention as her full breasts jiggled in her sports bra. With one smooth motion she flung the robe across the bedroom towards him. VRAMM! In the next instant, the beautiful woman was standing in front of him, nearly naked, clad only in her underwear. Joey jolted back as she caught the robe she threw to herself and whirled it about her, tying the sash around her waist. Meanwhile across the room, an empty superhero suit deflated and fell to the floor. Sandy gave him another smirk and cocked her head at him. "Get over yourself," she said to him."You're not getting any tonight. I just don't wear the costume downstairs. Come on. I'm going to show you something." As Sandy left the bedroom, Joey blinked a couple times to regain his composure, and then cautiously followed her down the hallway and stairs to the main landing. Sandy had visibly shrunk a few inches, and stopped to scoop up her cat. "Schrödinger! Bad kitty!" she scolded the cat, her voice now noticeably higher in pitch. "How do you keep getting out of your collar?" The cat meowed at her annoyingly. With a subdued strumming sound, the cat collar appeared in her hand, and the cat meowed and struggled and complained as Sandy wrapped the collar around Schrödinger's neck. She then headed downstairs into the basement, dropping the cat. "Come on!" she called to Joey. "Haven't forgotten about you." He followed her down the stairs, and into a finished basement. The basement was completely enclosed, with no windows or doors to the outside. Exercise equipment and locked drawers lined the walls, and a large heavy punching bag hung in the center of the room. "This is how we deal with anger!" Sandy announced as she picked up a pair of padded gloves. "Give me your hands." She grabbed one of his bandaged hands and started pulling a glove over his hand. "Ow!" he yelped as she pulled the tight glove over his tender knuckles. "What are you doing?" "Teaching you..." she grunted as she pulled the glove tight over his hand. " ... how superheroes ... Hold still! ... Deal with anger!" She tightened the glove's strap and then worked on his other hand. "We don't punch people because we are angry. When we are angry, we punch THIS!" And she grabbed his arms and turned him towards the punching bag. "Now hit it!" Joey grumbled, reached out, and tapped the bag. "Come on!" Sandy shouted. "Stop screwing around and hit it! Show me how angry you are!" He gave her a dirty look, and hit the bag harder. Sandy groaned and walked around him. "That was pathetic. I'd say you hit like a girl, but girls hit like this. HEE-YAAHH!" WHAM! Joey jumped back in terror as Sandy spun and violently smashed her bare fist into the bag, sending it swinging wildly. She caught it and held it for him. "Come on! Hit it!" His masculinity threatened, Joey gritted his teeth and smashed his fist into the bag. Pain shot up in his arms. "Good!" she shouted. "Again! Yell this time!" "YAHH!" He screamed and punched it again. More pain shot through his arms. "Ow!" "It hurts! Good! Pain means you are getting stronger! Pain pushes the anger out! Again!" Joey punched. He screamed. He pummeled the bag, slamming his fists into it again and again. BAP! WAP! BAP! "Good!" Sandy yelled. "Again! Keep going!" she said as she held the bag for him. "Put it all in the bag! All the anger! All the fear! All the pain! All of it! Put it in the bag!" "YAAHH!" He punched again. Sandy jostled from the impact. "Good! Imagine what you hate, and put it in the bag!" He punched again. "Everything you hate! Everyone you're angry with! Here in the bag!" He punched again. Joey gritted his teeth and imagined everyone he hated. Clyde. WAP! "Fuck you faggot! You're getting yours." WAP! Neil. WAP! "We're not scared of you, OMEGA BOY!" WAP! Brandon. WAP! That stupid laugh of his. WAP! "Good! You got it! Keep going!" Desdemona! WAP! WAP! WAP! "Oh, this is what, the THIRD one you've killed?" WAP! "If your beaner-bitch couldn't take me, what makes you think the hebe invalid would?" WAP! Joey screamed, part from the pain and part from the anger. Sandy continued to hold the bag and encourage him. "Who are you angry at, Joey?" she shouted. "CLYDE!" he yelled. WAP! "NEIL!" WAP! "BRANDON!" WAP! "DESDEMONA!" WAP! "RUSH LIMBAUGH!" Sandy saw his eyes change, turning black as his power started to activate. Joey reeled back and slammed his fist hard into the bag. "DAD!" he roared. Sandy wasn't expecting that, but she continued to hold the bag steady as he pummeled it. Black sparks flowed from his hands, and she felt this growing deadening of her senses. "DIDN'T WANT YOU..." WHAM! "TO BE..." WHAM! "A SUPERHERO!" WHAM! Instinctively she stepped back, out of the reach of his power. She felt some of her equipment's presences return to her mind, and could start to feel the light waves collapse from Joey's eyes. He continued to slam his fists into the punching bag. "WHY ... WOULDN'T ... YOU ... STOP?" he roared, punching the bag. He was wheezing, crying, and swaying. He pulled his hand back for another blow, and screamed. "TRICIA!" WHAM! "WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?" WHAM! The bag swung wildly on its chain and fell back, slamming into Joey and knocking him to the ground. The black sparks vanished, and Sandy felt her powers and awareness fully return. Joey was crying and he shook on the padded floor. She rushed to the screaming boy and took him in her arms. "It's okay. Let it out," she said soothingly. "This is what we have to do." Joey wailed in her arms. She held him as he sobbed and shook. His hands lay limp at his side, and she could see traces of blood coming from his hands. She said nothing, but just held him, rocking him, and letting him let the anger out. It took several minutes for him to calm down. He groaned in pain. "Hands hurt," he finally said. "I'll be they do," she answered. "Let me help you with that. Patch you up." As she started to work on the gloves, removing them from his hands, Joey took in a shuddering gasp. "Something is wrong with her." "Who?" Sandy asked. "Tricia," he said, looking at her with tearing eyes. "She's not right," he sobbed. ------- "Damn, girl! You're looking HOT!" Tricia posed and spun in front of her bedroom mirror, checking herself out. She was in her favorite skimpy little black dress with the plunging neckline that not just showed off, but practically framed her fabulous and famous cleavage. The dress tightly hugged and accentuated her wide hips and minimized her tummy. She twirled and posed and admired herself, reveling in her own gorgeousness and sexiness. In the past hour she had showered, washed, shaved, trimmed, plucked, blow-dried, dressed, put on makeup, and was now just putting on the final touches; earrings, necklace, and bracelet. She briefly considered not putting on her digital watch, just wanting a night out with no responsibilities, but decided to put it on anyways. It was vital to her well-being. She slipped on what she had dubbed her "fuck-me" pumps, and giggled to herself as she realized that considering everything else she was wearing, that particular message would be totally redundant. With one more pose in front of the mirror, she squealed a little at the sight of herself all sexed-up and blew herself a kiss. "He won't know what hit him!" She picked up her little black handbag and giddily strutted out of the bedroom. "Okay Annie!" she called out happily. "I'm leaving. Don't wait up for..." -FLASH!- "Aack!" she shrieked, startled as the flashbulb blinded her. "Trish! Dahrling! You are NOT going out like that, young lady!" Tricia blinked away the spots in her eyes and looked up to see Matilda and Jacques standing in the middle of the living room. Jacques was grinning and aiming for another shot, and Matilda glared at him icily. Annie sat behind them in her chair, obviously trying to hide a look of smug satisfaction behind a mask of innocence, and failing miserably at it. "Matilda! What are you doing here?" She shot Annie and angry glare. "What you hired me to do, and that is to protect and nurture your image. And you are DEFINITELY not going out like that! It would undo ALL of the progress we've been working on!" Tricia pouted and stamped her foot. "Oh, come on! Give me a break! I just need one night to..." Matilda strutted up to her and took her by the arm. "Absolutely not! Now turn around, young lady, and march back in there!" Annie grinned as she watched Trisha being dragged back into the bedroom. "We will find you something PROPER to wear on your date!" "You're going to make me late!" "That is your fault! You shouldn't have wasted all of your time making yourself to look like a common streetwalker." As they disappeared into the bedroom, Annie saw Jacques slowly slide up to the bedroom, lifting his camera. Annie cleared her throat. " Jacques?" He looked at her innocently. She shook her head. "Don't even think about it. She WILL put that camera where you don't want it, and that zoom lens was not designed to be fitted rectally." ------- "I look ridiculous in this," said Ada as she twisted and pulled her tube-top up and miniskirt down. "You look appropriate. Quite convincing," said Tombspawn. He leaned against the alleyway wall and held his cane, paying more attention to his cane than her. She stood unsteadily in the high-heel shoes and checked her face in a compact mirror. "Obviously you've never been with one." She angled the mirror and stole a glance at her partner. "At least a live one." With a loud SMACK, she slapped her face hard. Tombspawn raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?" "Blushing my cheeks," she answered. "I have to look the part, and they usually wear a lot of makeup." SMACK! He digested this for a second. "So put on some makeup." She stole another glance at him. "Makeup doesn't stick to me." SMACK! "Side effect of the invulnerability? Hmm." He chewed on this for a moment. "Wouldn't that make your cheeks invulnerable as well?" SMACK! "Hitting an invulnerable cheek with an invulnerable hand, I can bring up a blush but that's about it." She fluffed out her hair, shrugged, and turned around. "This is the best as I'm going to get. How do I look?" Tombspawn eyed her, taking in her full curvy figure from her high-heeled shoes, up her bare legs to a short black leather miniskirt, bare midriff, red tube-top barely holding her large breasts in check, and white fake fur jacket. She stood on one hip and waited. "More than adequate," he finally said. She sneered at him. "Is THAT it? I get all dolled up for you, and that's all you can give me?" Muscle, who stood beside Tombspawn, stared at the woman with a hunger and let out a low approving growl. Ada smirked. "Must have done something right. I got a rise out of HIM. Thank you, Muscle." She gave him a wink. The creature growled again and flexed his fingers. She looked back at Tombspawn. "I didn't know you included those parts." "It would have been a shame to waste them," Tombspawn admitted. "You should be wearing earrings." "Fine! Think you can pierce my ears?" Tombspawn thought about this for a moment, and simply turned his attention to the street. "Check for them. If you see them..." "I know what to do!" Ada complained, and she strutted out to the streets unsteadily in the high-heeled shoes. "Damn! Hate these shoes!" she grumbled. "You should walk a bit more provocatively," Tombspawn loudly suggested. Three seconds later the shoes flew past him, hitting Muscle in the chest. Now barefoot and comfortable, Ada confidently walked out onto the streets of Rosslyn, Virginia. She took her position under an illuminated streetlamp and checked her nails. This is so stupid, and so reckless she said to herself. What the hell does he think he's getting? This is never going to work. And it's definitely crossing a line. Once we do this, there's no going back. This had better be worth it. It didn't take long for a car to pull up alongside her. Ada secretly took that as a compliment, and enjoyed the moment. As the window rolled down, she took one look at the driver and his Lincoln Town car and rolled her eyes. He called out to her. "Hey! Need a ride?" he called confidently. Ada sighed, strutted to the car, and leaned down into the window provocatively. She gauged the man as his eyes were drawn to her breasts which were currently bulging out the top of her tube-top. Nice suit. Nice car. Well groomed. Good muscles. Not bad. She glanced past to to the street and saw a police car. Perfect, she thought. She gave him a smile and popped one leg up. "I should just start charging you right now for the way you're looking at me," she said with a grin. The man smiled and nodded. "How much?" She gave him a broad smile. "I'd say, considering the police are watching us right now, at least five hundred just for me to break even." He spun his head around and saw the policemen watching them. "Oh fuck!" he cursed, and turned back to her. "Hey, are you going to be here later on?' She winked at him. "In your dreams. Get out of here." She stepped back, and the man drove off. Ada resumed her position under the streetlight and watched the police car casually turn around and head towards her. She pulled her cell phone out of her jacket pocket and pressed a single button. "Taken the bait. Get ready." She closed the phone and waited. The police car pulled up to her, and Ada painted on a smile and strutted up to them. "Hi," she said sultrily to the two policemen as she leaned down into the window, letting the men get a good look at her cleavage. "Looking for a good time?" The two policemen gave each other a confused look. "Excuse me, miss?" the one nearest to her asked. "Want to party?" she asked with a grin. "I'll take you both. Hundred bucks." "Are you shitting us?" asked the other. "If that's what you're into." She winked at them and casually strutted away from the car, back towards the alleyway. The two policemen rolled their eyes at each other and stepped out of their car. "Hold it right there, miss," one called out. Ada just blew them a kiss and continued to stroll into the alleyway. "I said stop. You're under arrest for solicitation." They picked up their pace and trotted after her, one pulling out his handcuffs. Ada stepped around a corner. The policemen put their hands on their firearms and approached cautiously. The last thing they saw was something over seven feet tall. ------- Chapter 10: Dinner and Dancing Charlie Acevedo waited anxiously in the front foyer of Ceiba's, a sleek and stylish Latin American restaurant on the corner of 14th and G street, and he nervously adjusted his tie. He shifted the single red rose he held for her to his right hand and checked his watch again. She was now ten minutes late. He took a calming breath and exhaled deeply, trying to push away whatever panic was building up in him. He considered giving her a call, just to see if everything was all right. Nothing to worry about, he said to himself. She's just running a little late. That's all. He wasn't concerned about her safety, at least not yet. No, his biggest worry was that Anton was right about her. "Don't try it," his coworker had said to him the first day he worked with her. "She won't be interested in you. Not unless you have something she wants." She's not like that anymore, he told himself. She's changed. Ever since her epic blow-up and quitting her job back in July, Charlie had followed Tricia's career closely, reading everything about her and watching her interviews of the homeless on her YouTube channel. She has so much passion and dedication for doing the right thing. She is so different from the stories I heard about her. He still had a hard time believing she had called him. The panic bubbled up. "Don't try it. If there is something she wants, she'll come to you," Anton's warning echoed. "She will give you the greatest fuck of your life, but she won't let you in her heart. There's no room for you in there." Charlie was starting to believe the warnings. It did make sense after all. It was the only explanation he could think of for why she called out of the blue, acting all close and interested suddenly. She wants something. She wants a favor. That's all she wants. She's not interested in me. He looked at the single red rose he had bought for her. I'm being such an idiot. It also explained why she was late. It's not like I'm that important to her either. He sighed, and brought her image to his mind. Tricia Sanchez was a beautiful, exotic woman with sparkling blue eyes, wild hair, an infectious laugh, vivacious energy, and a killer body. She commanded every eye in the room, and every man wanted her. She could have any man. Why me? Does she just need a cameraman? No. She's changed, he reminded himself. She works for the homeless now. She raises awareness and money for them. She's trying for respect. Anton is wrong about her. No one at the station ever bothered to give her a chance. But I will. The doubts crept up again. I'll bet if she just wants to seduce me to get some favor, then she's probably going be all dressed up in the skimpiest, tightest, and sexiest dress she has, he reasoned. But if she's just in normal clothes, it means she's actually interested in me. He said a silent prayer. The front door opened, and Charlie looked up and saw her. Tricia Sanchez walked in wearing a oversized checkered flannel shirt, an unflattering drape vest, and loose slacks. Her long luscious hair was pulled back and held in a tight scrunchie, and her face was devoid of makeup. She had the slightest scowl on her face for a brief second, which vanished when her eyes met him. Her face looked hopeful. Charlie Acevedo's heart soared, for in his eyes, Tricia Sanchez had never looked more beautiful. ------- Hate this shirt! Hate this whole outfit! I look like a butch lesbian folksinger, and not the good kind. Tricia stepped into the restaurant and found Charlie waiting for him up front. She immediately slipped into her performance mode, dropping the attitude about her clothes, and plastered on a smile. "Hi," Charlie said, standing quickly. "Hi," she responded. He looked her up and down. "You look wonderful." "Eh," she scoffed. "I'm okay. I would have been here earlier, but I had a little wardrobe issue." How the hell does Matilda think she's going to get any good photos of me if I'm dressed like this? Who is she going to sell them to? Farmer's Almanac? Charlie shook his head. "No, I mean it. You're looking good." He stepped forward and offered her the rose. "Here. For you." Tricia blinked at it stupidly for a moment. The flower caught her completely off-guard. He shifted nervously. "I would have brought you a dozen, but I thought that would be premature." She studied the flower, and an actual smile broke out on her face. "Thank you," she said. "How ... nice." She took the flower and smelled its sweet fragrance. This is new, she reflected. She actually couldn't remember getting flowers before. Charlie looked proud. "Shall we get our table?" She nodded. "Oh, can we get a table by the window?" He looked puzzled, but shrugged and turned to the hostess. "Can we..." "Right this way," the hostess said. And she led them into the dining area. As they walked through the colorful and lively restaurant, Tricia lazily spun the single rose in her hand and eyed the other patrons. I am the worst-dressed person here, she lamented. But I guess it doesn't matter too much as long as Jacques gets some shots of us with no one better dressed behind me. The hostess seated them, took their drink orders, and left. Tricia smelled the rose one more time and placed it on the table with a slight smile, and then glanced out the window onto the streets of D.C. She couldn't see Jacques. "So," Charlie opened, drawing her attention. "It's good to see you again." Tricia leaned forward on her elbows, a maneuver originally designed to frame her breasts and enhance her cleavage assuming they were visible, and looked him in the eyes, giving him a coy smile. "It's good to see you too," she said in a husky voice. Charlie blushed a bit. "I, um ... I honestly was a bit surprised when you called me." She cocked her head at him. "I was thinking about you." "Yeah. That was the surprising part." He chuckled. "I never got the impression that you had really noticed me." Tricia gave him a low growl. "I certainly saw you noticing me." He nervously cleared his throat. "Well, that hardly counts. You saw everybody noticing you." She giggled delightfully at the compliment, and glanced out the window again. She thought she saw Jacques, and angled her body towards the window slightly. "So how are things back at the station?" Charlie inhaled and gave it some thought. "Different. Marty's gone. Apparently that little stunt you pulled when you threw him in the dumpster didn't go over too well with the station owners. He's been replaced. A lot of the guys are depressed and in the doghouse since you left. I mean, everyone kind of knew what you were doing, but nobody ever talked about it openly until you publicly admitted that you ... um..." He blushed and looked embarrassed. She tilted her head and nodded. "Gave out favors?" "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought that up." Tricia shook her head. "No, it's okay. That's my past, and I'm not proud of it, but I'm proud that I'm past it. I don't do that anymore." An odd look crawled over Charlie's face, one that Tricia couldn't quite place. She took it as disappointment, and leaned closer on one arm, angling her body to give him a better look at the profile of her chest. "At least not indiscriminately," she amended suggestively. "Were you feeling left out?" Charlie blushed again and took another deep breath. "Let's just say I have mixed feelings on the subject." Tricia giggled, and he continued. "But I'm proud of you. You saw something you were doing wrong, you took a stand, and you decided to work for your principles. That was inspirational." Tricia beamed. "Thanks," she said quietly. "I will admit that it was confusing and surprising to watch you march out of Marty's office with goop all over your face..." She burst out laughing. He continued. " ... but Anton came clean about it. Confessed it was just mustard. He said it was just a joke, and you really didn't care what we thought of you." "It was a stupid thing to do. I really don't know why I did it." Tricia confessed. "You have a silly side. It's good to see it every once in a while. But I think the truth is you do care what people think of you. That's why you left, and that's why you do the work you do now." He paused. "A lot of the women at the station were proud of you, and gave Marty and the others hell for a while. I overheard a couple 'good riddance' comments, but it mostly 'You go girl!'" She smirked and chuckled. "That's sweet. How's Judy?" Charlie raised his eyebrows. "She's doing good. She got a lot of flack and attention from being your assistant. Got a lot of questions, but she refused to bad-mouth you. She just moved on. She's got your desk now, and she made her debut appearance on camera about a month ago. Did you see her?" Tricia shook her head. "No. I can't bring myself to watch anymore. How did she do?" He nodded. "Good. She was nervous, but she's getting better." Tricia paused and reflected, remembering her time at the station, and her smile fell a bit. She remembered the lights and the camera, posing and showing off as she reported her stories. The stories were stupid, but there were times when it was fun. Charlie cocked his head. "Do you miss it?" His question pulled her out of her reverie. "Hmm? Oh god, no." She chuckled and glanced out the window, and saw Jacques for certain this time. "I'd much rather be doing this." She flashed a smile aimed at both men. As the waitress came by with their drinks and took their orders, Tricia kept a careful eye out the window, watching Jacques as he took several shots. A titillating thrill bubbled up inside her as she thought about the young man with the camera watching her, eyeing her, and shooting her. She pulled her scrunchie off and fluffed her wild hair out, pushing her hair back so her face was more visible from the streets. "So how about you? What's your life like?" Charlie asked, drawing her attention back to him. "How is working with the homeless?" Tricia lifted her arms high over her head and stretched sensuously, arching her back and thrusting her impressive chest forward. She could see Charlie's eyes bug out as he watched her, and could also see her gaining the attention of many other people in the room. "It's a lot of hard work," she practically moaned, stretching and twisting her torso, and glancing out the window. Jacques was taking pictures furiously. She dropped her arms, ending the stretch. "I spend a lot of time cleaning and organizing," she said with a sigh. "Scrounging for food, clothing, supplies, and medical services. Hardly exciting, but oddly fulfilling." She raised an eyebrow and gave him a coy stare. "I'm surprised you asked about that, and not about EarthGuard." Charlie managed to regain his composure. "I um, figure most people ask you about that, and I also figure there's just a lot you can't talk about." He sipped his drink. "So I'm not going to put you in an awkward position of asking you things that you can't answer." "Oh, that's sweet of you," she said, batting her eyes. He blushed. "And besides, I can tell you're serious about your work. I've been watching your interviews." "Really?" she asked, suddenly interested. He nodded, and looked concerned. "You didn't call me because you wanted feedback, or a cameraman, did you?" Tricia looked puzzled. "No?" She became concerned as well. "Why, do you think I need one?" Charlie took in a cautious breath, and mulled it over for a second. "Honestly, yes," he admitted. "Look, the stories you're doing are good. You're getting the details, getting the emotions, and presenting these people with dignity and compassion. But there are just a couple little things you should be doing differently." She eyed him curiously. "Like what?" "Well, for starters, you're on camera far too much." Tricia startled at that. He continued. "I mean, you look great on camera, but the story isn't about you. It's about them. It's best if you just show up as little as possible." Tricia frowned at this suggestion. "Also, your framing needs some work. For your medium close-ups you need to put one eye on the horizontal center of the screen. Points of interest need to be at the thirds. For a stronger emotional impact, try putting your subject on the right side facing left. This highlights the left side of the face. The left side shows negative emotions more than the right side. Also, consider using a warm lens when wrapping up with a hopeful message. Richer warm colors makes the viewer feel more welcoming to the idea of donations and volunteering." Tricia blinked and reflected on Charlie's advice for a moment. "Wow," she finally said. "That's ... helpful." She thought about it some more. "That's really helpful!" "Really?" She nodded, looking bewildered. "Yes. Thanks. I didn't know there was so much involved." Charlie smiled proudly. "You're welcome." He thought about it for a moment, and appeared to come to a decision. "You know, if you would like, I could, you know, come over and help you with this some time." Her eyes brightened. "Really?" He nodded. "Sure. Help you with lighting and blocking. And whatever else you need done at the shelter." She gave him a warm heart-melting smile. "That would be wonderful," she said sincerely. She cocked her head at him, looking at Charlie from a different angle. "So there must be a whole art to using a camera that I wasn't aware of. I guess it's a lot more than just putting it on a stand, pointing, and focusing." He nodded. "Yeah. Cameramen are more than just human tripods." A sly grin slowly crawled across Tricia's lips and she raised an eyebrow. "Human tripod?" she asked lewdly. She gave him a sparkling, seductive look and then dropped her eyes down as if to look through the table at his crotch. She squirmed in her seat. "Ohhh, really?" she purred. Charlie balked and gave a quick, nervous laugh. "I didn't mean that..." he started, but that was as far as he got. Under the table, Tricia had slid one foot up his leg sexily. His eyes widened and he stammered. "Umm..." "So tell me more." she whispered, oozing forward and eyeing him hungrily. She licked her lips and cocked her head. "You know, I've always admired the way you handle huge equipment with a steady hand," she practically moaned. "But I always wondered ... Like, I've always heard the camera adds ten pounds." Her eyes darted down and up his body. "Where exactly do you plan to put them?" He opened his mouth, and could go no further, completely overwhelmed by the turn of the conversation, and Tricia couldn't take it anymore. She fell back in her seat, breaking her seductive stance and collapsed into giggles, clasping her hands over her mouth in mirth. "Oh!" she laughed and shook. "You should have seen your face!" Charlie finally grinned and laughed along with her. "Yeah, I guess I set myself up for that, didn't I?" Tricia giggled delightfully and flipped her hair back in triumph. "You are so cute when you blush, you know that?" She glanced out the window and saw Jacques taking her picture, and impulsively winked at him. "I ... didn't," he said, noticing the wink. She clasped her hands together and leaned forward with her chin on her fingers. "So! Tell me more! Any notes about my opening credits?" Charlie looked out the window, distracted. "Who's out there?" She reached over and playfully cupped his cheek, turning his face towards her. "Hey. I'm over here!" she said, smirking at him. He gave her a glance, and then peered back out the window. "Is there someone out there?" "Don't pay any attention to him. So tell me, do you think..." "Who is that?" he demanded. Tricia sighed. "Look. He's just a photographer. I'm a bigger celebrity now," she said with a shrug. "They're always around. I can't get rid of him." Charlie looked back at forth between Jacques and Tricia a couple times, processing this. "What do you mean, can't get rid of him?" "Just don't pay any attention to him." "No! I don't like being spied on!" "Charlie. It's not a big deal! You're not being spied on. It's not like he can hear us. Just ignore him." He stared at her accusingly. "But you're not!" He pointed one thumb towards the photographer. "You're practically flirting with the guy! You ... You knew he was there all along, didn't you? That's why you wanted to sit by the window, isn't it?" She reached for his hand. "Can't we just..." "No," he demanded, yanking his hand back. "Tell me! Is he the reason why you wanted to sit by the window?" Tricia groaned. "All right. Yes, but it's just for a few shots. It's not like he's going to watch us all night long." Charlie glared at her. "You don't know that ... unless..." He sat back and thought. "You know this guy, right?" "Charlie, please..." He leaned forward and stared at her challengingly. "Tricia, what is going on? Why did you call me?" Tricia sighed and groaned. "Fine," she said. "Look, I was having a real shitty day, and I just needed to get out and have some fun. But my publicist found out, and she wanted some shots of me out dating, so she made me change into this getup and sent her photographer out to follow me." She gave him a resigned look. "It's just part of the deal I made with her." Charlie listened and nodded, and waited. "And?" She squinted. "And what? That's it." She cocked an eyebrow at him. "You should have seen what I was GOING to wear tonight." He stared at her, unmoved, and leaned in. He was not happy. "That's nice, but you didn't answer my question." She frowned in confusion. "Why did you call ME?" "Well..." She eyed him perplexedly. "Didn't you WANT to date me?" "A lot of guys want to date you. Why did you pick ME?" She faltered for a moment. "I was thinking of you." "And what were you thinking exactly? That you could convince me to do your camera work for you?" "No! I just..." "What were you thinking then?" Tricia blew out a breath of frustration. "Fine! You got me! I wasn't thinking that much about you specifically. And you're right! A lot of guys are interested in me. I've got a list, okay?" She sighed and looked down at the table for a moment, and then back at him. "I needed a guy, and I picked the guy at the top of my list. But Charlie." She reached out, took his hand, and caressed it tenderly. "You were at the top of my list. That should count for something, shouldn't it?" she asked with a tender smile. Charlie didn't smile back. He simply leaned towards her and said "So tell me, Miss Sanchez. Why exactly is Mr. Acevedo on the top of your list?" Her smile fell. Charlie dropped her hand and stood up. "You know, that's it! I was warned about you!" he said loudly, attracting everyone's attention in the restaurant. Tricia looked about nervously at all of the other people. "Charlie, what are you doing?" He opened his wallet, pulled out a fifty, and slapped it on the table. "I was told specifically. 'Don't do it. Don't try it. She won't be interested in you. She's only interested in what she can get from you.'" Every other diner in the restaurant was now silent and was watching intently, while Tricia burned from embarrassment. "But I didn't want to believe it! I was willing to give you a chance, to show that you really were a decent person. Oh, I was worried that all you wanted was a cameraman, but I was hoping that you were interested in me. I didn't want to believe that you were that selfish, that self-centered. But it turns out that the only reason you called me was that you needed a warm body. Someone to look good against." "Charlie. You're making a scene," she whispered, cringing. "Well I hope they enjoy it! I'm sure they've all seen a woman walk out on a man before, but haven't seen this yet!" He leaned towards her, and she cringed back. "You know, had you just been up front with me and honest with what you wanted, that you just needed to be photographed with someone, I might have been up for it! I would have been disappointed, knowing that that was all you wanted, but at least I would have appreciated the fact that you would have been respecting me. I would have done it as a friend, hoping something else could come from it. But no! You just had to lead me on. You just relied on your belief that you are this beautiful woman that every man desires, and you used that to manipulate me. You lied to me, you tried to use me, and I'm sure that all that flirting you did meant absolutely nothing to you." Tricia just stared at him in shock and horror. "Tricia, you may be a beautiful woman, but you are selfish and manipulative. You are NOT that desirable." Charlie turned and started to march out of the restaurant with most of the other stunned diners watching him intently. Tricia just sat in a traumatized stupor and startled as she saw him stop and turn around halfway through the restaurant. "Hey Tricia! Try this one on for size!" he yelled at her. "I'M SORRY I WAS LATE! Just TRY it!" He glared at her for a moment as she sat in a horrified silence. "I thought so," he muttered, and he turned and left. All eyes returned to stare at her. ------- Her hands shook. Her breathing was ragged and disjointed. She trembled as every eye in the restaurant was locked on her. A dozen different emotions bubbled and boiled within her, fighting for supremacy. Shock, horror, shame, embarrassment, terror, humiliation, pain, sadness. Rage. Tricia narrowed her eyes in fury and clawed the table. "Oh..." She gritted her teeth. "You..." Anger flared in her, and her blood burned in her veins. "I ... No!" She shuddered, shook her head in defiance, slammed her fist against the table, and stood up. "That did NOT ... JUST ... HAPPEN!" she yelled at the restaurant. She popped one hip and threw a finger into the air. "¡Que Dios te maldiga! ¿Quién demonios te crees que eres?" she rattled off. "Who the hell do you think you are? Huh? God damn it don't you walk away from ME!" she yelled, marching out of the restaurant. "NOBODY WALKS AWAY FROM TRICIA SANCHEZ! NOBODY TURNS ME DOWN! NOBODY!" "¡Por el amor de Dios!" she muttered as she pushed a waiter out of the way. "Who the FUCK does he think he is!" She threw the front doors open wide and stormed out of the restaurant, looking left and right. She saw Charlie in the distance walking away from her. "HEY!" she screamed, scaring the piss out of several nearby people. "¡No me des al espalda! ¡Mírame cuando te hablo!" He continued walking, ignoring her taunts. "Get back over here! I'm talking to you! ¡¿Qué coño pasa contigo?! ¡Mira que eres tonto! IDIOT! What the fuck is wrong with you? YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT KIND OF GENETICS YOU ARE TURNING DOWN HERE? HUH? MY FATHER WAS A BRAZILIAN FOOTBALL STAR, AND MY MOTHER WAS MISS MOTHER-FUCKING MEXICO!!!" Charlie continued walking, and didn't even have the decency to turn around or flip her the bird, which just pissed her off even more. "AAAAGH!" She screamed and kicked a trashcan. "That's right! Just keep going! IT'S NOT LIKE YOU COULD HAVE KEPT UP WITH ME! ¡Ni se te ocurra llamarme! ¡Hemos terminado!" She turned and defiantly stomped in the other direction for a few steps, stopped, and turned. "¡Métete eso por el culo! ¡Maricón!" Raging and crazed with umbrage, Tricia stormed the streets screaming and muttering profanity about everyone and everything. "What the FUCK is wrong with people! Huh? Someone explain this to me! God! Give me strength!" She kicked another trashcan, and headed into the parking garage for her car. As she reached her car she slammed her purse on the top and dug her keys out. "Te crees muy chulo, pero no lo eres," she rattled off. "¡Eres un jodido bastardo! ¡Gilipollas!" She pulled her keys out and unlocked the door. "¿Acaso crees que me importa lo que piensen? ¡No eres más que un pedazo de mierda!" She opened the door, threw her purse in, got in, and slammed the door shut. Once she was sitting, Tricia stopped and took a moment of silence. The rage had seemed to exhaust itself, and all that was left was humiliation and torment. Her face scrunched up in pain and she leaned her forehead against the steering wheel and burst into tears. "Why?" she sobbed. "What the fuck is wrong with everyone?" She sat in the car and cried heavily for several minutes, not caring at all about anyone who walked past seeing her. She just buried her head on the steering wheel and bawled, sobbing loudly and wiping her eyes and nose on her checkered sleeve. When the crying finally died down, she looked up at the rear view mirror and angled it to check her face and makeup. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her cheeks were blushed and wet. Her nose was red and stuffed up. But she didn't see any streaming makeup, which was what she was looking for, and remembered that Matilda made her remove her makeup earlier. Tricia scowled at herself and her ugliness. "Fuck you, Matilda!" she cursed, and slapped the rear-view mirror. The reflection changed, focusing her attention to the checkered shirt she wore. Tricia looked down at the flannel nightmare of a shirt and vest and screeched at them. She grabbed the vest and violently ripped it off, and then grabbed the shirt and started tearing the sleeves. "Fucking HATE THESE CLOTHES!" she yelled. "FUCK YOU ANNIE! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO CALL HER? Matilda, you are so fucking fired! You have been USELESS!" She slumped back and glanced at the mirror. She could still see the reflection of her checkered shirt, and she slapped the mirror in contempt, and then wiped her nose on her ripped sleeve. Tricia then reached into her purse and pulled out her lipstick and blush, and angled the mirror back towards her face again. She saw a flash of gold in the mirror as it turned. She stopped, and angled the mirror back. There, in the reflection, was something golden. Something golden in the back seat of her car. Tricia turned around, reached back, and withdrew the sexy Italian superhero costume. Her heart pounded at the sight, and her stomach churned as her fingers caressed the silky smooth fabric. She licked her lips. And her lips turned upward into a mischievous and lascivious grin. ------- The electric guitars thrashed, heralding her arrival. The bass drums pounded loud enough to be heard from the dark streets in a steady rocking 4/4 beat to which she synchronized her steps. One, two, three, four, five, six, sev, eight! she counted mentally as she strode towards the nightclub. Hips swung, hair bounced, cape flowed, heels clicked on the pavement, and breasts and cleavage jiggled and sloshed in the tight form-fitting suit, held snug by an ingenious set of well-hidden reinforcements in the deep-cut cups. A large mask concealed her face and identity. Not that anyone would be looking at her face tonight. Jaws dropped from the line outside the club. Gasps and moans. Cheers and applause. Tricia strode to the front bouncer, who instinctively opened the velvet rope to let her in. She reached out and tickled his chin with a gloved finger as she bounced past, not missing a single step to her rhythm. The music pounded her chest as she entered the club, and the catcalls and cheers erupted around her, filling and nurturing her spirit and gorging her libido. She smiled wickedly and strode past the bar, past the men working their charms on the local girls, turning every head and catching every eye. Men gawked and women fumed and Tricia drank it all in as the cheering patrons made a wide opening for her to the dance floor. She strut in a wide circle for two whole measures of the rock beat, marking her territory in time with the music. Whoops and cheers and screams inflated her soul, and she took the position in the center of the dance floor. The DJ angled the spotlights on her. And she started to grind. Your dream vacation is my hostage refuge. A work in progress, you bleed just like you puke while running a mile. I beg to differ, make me an offer. Warm summer rain, you bleed just like you puke while running a mile. She danced in the center of the room, feeding on the catcalls and basking in the heat from every eye trained on her. Hair whipped and cape spun, and perspiration collected on her breasts, making them shimmer under the harsh spotlights. There was a collective anticipation that grew in the crowd, one that she knew and understood. Costumes were a common enough staple among clubbers, but it was an unwritten rule that masks and capes were limited to those with powers. Tricia spun and pointed to a dance pole across the room, indicating to the girl on it to vacate it immediately. The girl responded quickly, and as the crowd held its collective breath and the last words of the refrain echoed in the bridge to the chorus, Tricia timed it perfectly. On the eighth beat, she kicked the superspeed on, warping time and running. She ran, jumped onto and over tables, and caught the dance pole on the final edge of the eighth beat. The sonic boom shook the entire dance club, and the crowd roared in approval. She dropped back to her normal rate to feast on their cheers. She had only used a few seconds of banked time, but the effect was worth it. She wrapped her leg around the pole and slithered and spun. Hey are you okay? You look pretty low. Very handsome awkward! She was back on the dance floor. Do you feel okay? You look pretty low. Very handsome awkward! The song entered a power bridge, and Tricia strutted in her eight-beat walk, scanning the room. By now the men had sized each other up and the best ones were ready to make their moves. They eyed each other competitively and one macho muscular puffed himself up and approached her, stepping in time to the music. He reached for her. Not so fast, she decided, and with a simple speed boost she grabbed his arm, twisted him around with a little Tae-Kwon-Do and flipped him onto the floor. He landed with a painful thump and a roar of approval and laughter from the crowd. Tricia popped her hip, stepped on his chest like a dominatrix, and blew him a kiss as she walked on, stepping on him. Your market value, your resurrection. Your shallow concept. Help yourself I hope you choke and die! I know you meant it, nice fucking disguise, so hollow. Embrace the burn you bleed just like you puke while running a mile! Other men made their approaches and attempts, and Tricia dominated them, flipping and sliding past them. She couldn't tell if they were all really coming onto her, or if some were just taking their turn getting thrown to the floor. It didn't matter. She danced and strutted, slipping past men and knocking them off balance with well-placed hip thrusts. She wagged her finger at them and blew kisses. She could see the other women in the crowd staring at her icily, and she burned brightly inside, feeding on the jealousy. She popped and ground her hips, and danced. Stare at me! Love me! Desire me! Don't touch! This place is mine! Your men are mine. The night is mine! The song passed the second chorus, and moved to a new energy. It slowed and shifted into a dream-like trance, and the DJ shut all the lights off but for a single blue spotlight on Tricia. She sinuously stretched and writhed to the new refrain, basking in the cold colored light, straining and pulling her muscles, running her hands all over her body, touching herself the way she imagined every man wanting to touch her. Up her thighs and her crotch, across her stomach and over her breasts, and then up through her hair. The crowd stared in silence as she drank in their desires. Her body ached for a release, and her clitoris spasmed. She gasped as a micro-orgasm sparked her body with a wave of pleasure, and moaned audibly to the delight of the crowd. The music changed, switching to an intensity crescendo, and the DJ switched the spotlight to a fast strobe. She danced frantically, whipping her hair and cape about wildly, and the patrons screamed in approval. She clawed at the air, and then at her costume, fighting her desire to start ripping the costume off in front of everyone. The crowd started moving in closer to her, pounding and stomping the floor in time with the music. THERE! Tricia couldn't see anything or anyone, but she could sense her presence. It was instinctive. It was the familiarity of the nearness of a sister, the essence of a soul mate which penetrated the crowd and darkness like a laser beacon. The music returned, shifting back to its hard driving form, and the DJ restored the lights to the patron's wild screams of approval. The crowd had pushed towards her, but immediately parted as the Quantum Knight strode into the club. Tricia smiled mischievously and struck a challenging pose on the dance floor, egged on by the onlookers. Quantum Knight shook her head and remained all business. "That's enough," Tricia could see the superhero mouth to her. There was no way she could hear the woman over the music, but she could easily read her lips. She scrunched her face up in a smirk and shook her head. "Come and get me!" she challenged the superhero. The music pounded and thrashed, and Tricia swung her hips to the beat as Quantum Knight stepped forward. "Okay, you've had your fun," she could read from the superhero's lips. "Now let's get you home," she appeared to say as she reached out. Tricia burned a couple banked seconds in a quarter-second to take her wrist, force it, and flip the superhero over. She spun and twisted elegantly at high speed as she saw her friend sprawl on the floor. The crowd gasped in shock, and Tricia struck a pose to the music. Quantum Knight turned her head and glared at her. Tricia playfully blew her a kiss. The superhero shook her head. "That's it. You've asked for it." The superhero rolled and vanished, and Tricia instinctively felt the presence of her soul-sister behind her. She kicked in the super-speed and dropped, narrowly missing the outstretched arms of her friend, and tumbled across the floor. She jumped up, backed away, and returned to a normal rate of time-flow at the other end of the dance floor. The crowd cheered, and Quantum Knight vanished again. Tricia kicked in the speed and ran, feeling Quantum Knight appear behind her, and then a moment later in front of her with her leg outstretched. Tricia giggled to herself as she easily stepped over the leg intending to trip her. As she resumed normal time to taunt her friend again, Tricia could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest. She popped her hip, touched one finger to her lips, and sexily asked. "What's the matter? Too fast for you?" Quantum Knight growled, and a pair of handcuffs appeared in her hand. "Ooooh!" Tricia squealed in a tease and the crowd let out a whoop of anticipation. "You think you can get those on me?" she asked, her voice drowned out by the pounding music. The superhero vanished, and Tricia spun at hyper-speed. She grabbed the cuffs from her friend and slapped them on the superhero's wrist, then pulled her other arm around her and fit the second cuff on her other wrist. Then she flipped the hero to the floor and returned to normal speed. The crowd cheered raucously as she stood in triumph over her fallen foe. The music was nearing its climactic end, and Quantum Knight growled, flipped and rolled. She stood up, teleported the cuffs off her hands, and back into her grasp. "That's IT!" she yelled loud enough to be heard. "PLAYTIME IS OVER!" VVRRAAAMMM!!! Tricia suddenly felt Quantum Knight's presence EVERYWHERE, and she burned several banked seconds looking around for an escape route. But there was none. Quantum Knight had simultaneously teleported and superpositioned, taking positions in every direction. Ghost hands and cuffs came in from all directions, and Tricia spun and dodged frantically, trying to avoid the ever growing number of virtual hands which followed and anticipated her. But it was too much. No matter which direction she moved, hands were waiting for her there. She felt the cuffs slap on her both of hands simultaneously with her hands outstretched, and then she felt her arms pulled back together behind her as the wavefield collapsed. The virtual ghosts vanished, leaving one very pissed off superhero in front of her. Quantum Knight grabbed Tricia by the shoulders and threw her against a column, knocking the fight out of her. The music ended, and the crowd gasped in shock. Tricia found herself bound and staring with terror into Quantum Knight's golden visor. The woman held her fast and leaned in close to her. "I've got two words for you, sister," she hissed. "Unfit Mother." ------- "I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!" Tricia bawled. It was only a couple minutes later, and Tricia was sitting in the front seat of her car, still in her costume, and crying into her cape. The front door was open, and she sat with her legs out the door, hunched over and sobbing into the golden fabric. She was out of the cuffs now, and Quantum Knight stood next to her, leaning against the car. The superhero sighed. "Look ... I'm sorry. I know you weren't doing anything illegal. At least not until you attacked me. But dressing like that and partying when you're fighting to keep custody of Joey, and using your powers when you're trying to hide them, well, it was stupid, you know that?" Tricia nodded her head. "I don't know what's going on," she whined. "I just ... I don't know why I did that! I can't do anything right anymore! I just ... I don't know!" She inhaled a deep snuffly breath, buried her face in the cape, and blew hard into it. Quantum Knight flinched at the unmistakable sound of a large wet splat of snot coming out, and she looked away in disgust towards the collection of fast-food trash in the back seat. "Um ... You have napkins in your car," she suggested. "Help yourself," Tricia sobbed. She wiped her face with the cape. "I don't know what's happening," she cried. "I'm screwing up everything, and nobody listens to me! Joey's not thinking and Annie turned on me, and then Matilda, and my date just blew up at me for no good reason ... It had just been so long since..." "Since what? Since you last paraded around half-naked in front of a crowd?" Tricia shrugged. "I just wanted ... needed ... something." "Tricia. You've got responsibilities now. You're taking care of Joey, and you can't just go out and party like that anymore." "I know," she sobbed. "You know, Joey's worried about you. And now I'm worried about you too. Look, you've got a lot on your plate. You changed careers, you're fostering Joey, and you're trying to change your image. That's a lot of stress." "WELL WHY DON'T PEOPLE THINK ABOUT THAT? HUH?" Tricia yelled. Quantum Knight startled. Tricia balled up her cape in her hands and wrung it. "I don't know why people don't listen to me!" she shouted. "Why don't they think? Don't they know what all I'm going through?" The superhero pondered that for a moment. "Well," she started. "Now I know why your date blew up at you." "Oh! So now you're going to take his side, are you?" "Tricia, I'm trying to help you." "Some friend you are! Why don't you just leave me alone?" She turned and glared up at Quantum Knight. "Why did you even show up there? Did they call you?" "No. I just felt your crucifix going seven hundred miles an hour. I got concerned." "Well, it was none of your fucking business!" "What the hell has gotten into you?" Quantum Knight challenged. "ME?" Tricia barked. "You're the one who keeps SPYING on me!" She pulled her crucifix off and threw it away. "Just do me a favor and stay out of my life! Some sister you are!" The superhero watched the crucifix scatter across the ground. "Oh fuck," she muttered to herself. "Fuck is right! What the fuck is wrong with you? What the fuck is wrong with everyone?" she shouted in fury. "Tricia?" Quantum Knight said carefully. "Shut up." "I just want a little bit of cooperation! Just a little help! But everyone just..." "I SAID SHUT UP TRICIA!" the superhero roared. Tricia bolted back in terror and shut up. Quantum Knight took a breath and knelt in front of her. She rubbed her forehead. "Once is a aberration, twice is a coincidence. But three times ... that's a pattern," she said to herself. "Tricia? I'm sorry, but I think this is my fault." Tricia blinked through her tears. "What?" "I didn't prepare you for this, but this doesn't happen that often, so I didn't know that this was something I had to tell you about. I really didn't think about it, or put it all together until just now." "What are you talking about?" Quantum Knight put a hand on her knee. "Tricia, I'm telling you this as a friend. You are being a total, royal bitch." Tricia opened her mouth to complain, but the hero continued. "And it's not your fault. It's mine." She looked at the superhero in bafflement. "Look, you are going through a lot of changes right now. Career, family, image ... these are tough enough by themselves, but on top of all that you're also gaining superpowers! And not just any superpowers, but Cosmic powers. There are only eight of us on the planet, and quite frankly, we don't all talk to each other that much. She sighed. "I've got a story to tell you." Quantum Knight smiled. "Do you remember when I told you about when I went to meet Impetus to find out if I was a Cosmic?" Tricia nodded. "Well, I told you what happened afterward, when he took me to his place and we, you know..." She grinned. "On the ceiling, on the walls. spinning in mid air..." Tricia gave a faint smile and squirmed in her seat. "Yeah..." she murmured in agreement. "Yeah. Anyways ... I didn't tell you about what happened next." She sighed. "I was young. Nineteen. And I had just met another Cosmic. And you know how that feels like now. That attraction? You know how we can just sense each other, even in a dark room? Well I had never felt it before. So suddenly I meet this guy who feels like he's my soul-mate. And then we had a night of mind-blowing, fantastical sex. And he was a superhero! So ... By the next morning, I was in love!" She shrugged. "Or at least I thought I was. Of course here we are, eight years later, and he's in New York and I'm in D.C., so you can see how well that turned out. She frowned. "The thing is, that next morning, I wanted to spend every moment with him. I wanted him to take me out flying, to show me the city, to show me the whole country! I wanted to go with him everywhere! I wanted ... I wanted to fuck him while flying past the sound barrier! I wanted to go to every national landmark and do him right there on top of them!" They both chuckled at the image. She hesitated, and continued. "But of course, he had obligations. He was in AmerForce, and he had patrol work, and meetings, and he had to shoot a PSA. So he said he couldn't spend all day with me, and I got angry. I just blew up at him. We got into this huge fight, and I said some horrible things." Shame crept over her face. "Things I have never forgiven myself for saying ... But as I was storming out on him, the last thing he said to me was 'Yeah, I remember when I got my powers, I was a total ass-wipe too.' "I didn't talk to him again for over six months," she confessed, dropping her head. Tricia watched her friend with sympathy. "I'm sorry to hear that. Why were you..." "It was my powers. I was still getting used to them. Look, Tricia. It happened to Impetus. He said he became this total asshole when he got his powers. Then it happened to me, and I was this self-righteous, self-centered bitch. And now it's happening to you. We all go through this selfish, bitchy phase that makes us impossible to deal with while we get used to these new abilities. And I didn't warn you about it because, well, Cosmics don't appear every day. I just didn't think about it." She sighed. "It's not like there is a book on this." Tricia shook her head. "No. It's not that. I don't know what it is, but it's not the powers. I can handle the powers. It's just that, everyone around me is being so, thick-headed and stubborn, and..." "No, Tricia. It's you. You're being impatient and selfish." She took her hand. "Look. No, don't look. Feel. Do me a favor, and close your eyes and just feel." Tricia gave her an uncertain look, rolled her eyes, and then closed them. "You can feel the universe around you, don't you? You feel something that you never noticed before? Like something powerful is paying attention to you? Listening to you?" She squeezed her hand. "Doing what you want?" Tricia reflected on this. "Yes," she finally said quietly. "I can feel the timestream." "And I can feel the waves," she added. "The universe listens to us. It does our bidding, but I think it takes a while for our brains to adjust to the fact that it only does our bidding for one small subject. We're getting these mixed messages. Something is telling us that it will bend physics to our will, and make anything happen for us, anything we desire, but that doesn't apply to other people. No. We're still stuck with having to deal with people normally. And it just takes our brains some time to get used to this fact." She cocked her head. "Super-power puberty. It sucks, huh?" Tricia grinned and chuckled. "I have been a bitch, haven't I?" "Total. But don't worry. We all still love you. A couple of us want to smack you around a bit. I know Joey does. But we want to help you." She teared up. "I'm sorry." Quantum Knight pulled her into a hug. "It's okay. I'm sorry too. You're going to be fine. Let me take you home." ------- Translation Guide I know. I know I haven't been doing the translations in this book, but this is a special case. I don't like doing the translations because I think they are completely unnecessary. I don't put translations in the middle of the text because it breaks the reading rhythm, and I don't like putting it at the end because it distracts from the final emotion. And if you can't figure out that Tricia is hurling profanity and insults during her tantrum without seeing the translations, you're just not paying attention to the story. There is nothing hidden in the Spanish that reveals anything plot-specific. Seriously, you're not going to learn anything interesting here. I'm just doing this to stave off the email complaints, and because it's just so damn juicy. "¡Que Dios te maldiga! ¿Quién demonios te crees que eres?" = God damn you! Who the hell do you think you are? "¡Por el amor de Dios!" - For the love of God! "¡No me des al espalda! ¡Mírame cuando te hablo!" Don't turn your back on me! I'm talking to you! ¡¿Qué coño pasa contigo?! ¡Mira que eres tonto!" What the fuck is wrong with you? You are so stupid! "¡Ni se te ocurra llamarme! ¡Hemos terminado!" - Don't you dare call me! We are done! "¡Métete eso por el culo! ¡Maricón!" - Stick that up your ass! Faggot! "Te crees muy chulo, pero no lo eres," - You think you are all that, but you aren't. "¡Eres un jodido bastardo! ¡Gilipollas!" - You are a fucking bastard! Asshole! "¿Acaso crees que me importa lo que piensen? ¡No eres más que un pedazo de mierda!" - You think I care what they think? You are just a piece of shit! (Thanks Yami!) ------- Chapter 11: Premonitions and Cell Phones "I don't like this." "Like what?" "Being here. So close to the cops." "We are in no danger." Ada squirmed anxiously in the front passenger's seat of the Lincoln sedan while Tombspawn calmly sat in the driver's seat. It was late in the evening, and the car was parked outside the Virginia State Police Station in Alexandria. Police cars drove in and out constantly, and she drummed her fingers restlessly on her thigh, nervously waiting for any police officer to become suspicious enough to investigate them. It's not that they were doing anything illegal at the moment, but she was sitting in a car with two dead bodies. Granted, they were sitting up and moving, and didn't look dead at first glance, but that didn't do much to alleviate her concerns. Tombspawn sat confidently, toying with a cell phone. "Remarkable devices," he said to himself. "It is astounding what one can do with technology these days." He cocked his head as he studied the cell phone. "Telephone. Contact list. Calendar. Diary. Camera. Photo album. Music player. Email. Web browser. Everything one would need." Ada rolled her eyes. "How can you just sit there and not get nervous?" "What is there to be nervous about?" She gawked at him. "We murdered two policemen, and instead of hiding the bodies, you sent them into police headquarters. I still don't understand what it is you think you're getting." Tombspawn closed the cell phone. "The most valuable commodity of all; Information." Ada rolled her eyes and glanced into the back seat to check once again if Muscle was still sitting there. The monster tended to sit so quietly she would forget it was there. She saw him leering at her, staring with an unsubdued hunger. A small stream of drool dripped from its mouth. "Ugh," she winced and turned her attention to the police station. "How long is this going to take?" "He will render to each one according to his works: to those who by patience in well-doing seek for glory and honor and immortality, he will give eternal life," Tombspawn recited. "Romans, chapter two, verses six and seven." He glanced back at the police station as well, and spotted two uniformed officers approaching them. "Not long after all," he said. "I really wish you would quit it with the fucking Bible quotes." "The Good Book holds great wisdom for those who seek it. Perhaps you would do well to meditate on Leviticus, chapter seventeen, verse eleven. 'For the life of the flesh is in the blood ... for it is the blood that makes atonement for the soul.'" "Whatever." Adamantine saw them approaching as well, and let out a breath of relief. "About fucking time." As the two uniformed police officers converged on the town car, Tombspawn pressed the button to lower the driver's window. "Did you have any difficulties?" he asked the two. "No," expressed one of the zombie policemen. "Did they get it?" Adamantine asked eagerly. Tombspawn held up his hand, and one of the zombies passed to him a yellow envelope. He took the envelope, looked inside it, and smiled. Tombspawn's smile always creeped Ada out, and she glanced back at Muscle just to see something less disturbing. Muscle was still staring at her, now with two streams of drool hanging from his thin lips. She grimaced and turned back to Tombspawn. "You did well, my children," Tombspawn remarked. "Now your instructions are as follows. You will take your squad car out and drive south. Continue to drive south on the highway. Draw no attention to yourselves. When you run out of fuel, exit the car, head off the road, find a discreet location, and use your service revolvers on each other. Shoot each other in the head." He paused for a moment. "And then you may die. Understand?" The two nodded. "Go," he commanded. The two shuffled off. Ada watched the two undead policemen as they returned to their car. "Can we get out of here now?" Tombspawn started the car, and pulled onto the road. Ada picked up the envelope and looked inside it. "Okay. What did we just risk getting caught for?" she asked. She frowned, and reached inside, pulling out a small clear plastic evidence bag containing a small dark object. "What the hell is this?" She turned the bag over in her hand, examining the object. It was filthy, crusty, but eventually recognizable. She glared at him. "Another cell phone?" she asked incredulously. "Don't you have enough by now? You get one every time you kill someone." "Not just any cell phone," he replied. "Patricia Sanchez's cell phone." Her eyes opened wide in amazement, and she stared at the plastic enclosed phone. "Tricia Sanchez's cell phone? What the hell was it doing in the police station?" "She abandoned it during the fight against Desdemona, and it was picked up by the police. No doubt she has a new phone by now, so she has parted with this one." Ada smiled as she examined the phone. "Well, this should be helpful. Family names, friends, contact numbers ... maybe even upcoming doctor appointments. Should be able to set a trap for her easily with the information in here." Tombspawn frowned as he drove. "Hmm. I did not even consider that," he said. She frowned and squinted at him. "Huh?" Tombspawn glanced at her. "Eyes on the road, dead man! And what do you mean, didn't even consider it?" He returned his gaze to the road. "I did not consider that the cell phone had valuable information within it." "Well then ... WHY did you go to all this trouble to steal it?" she asked in exasperation. "I am not interested in what is in the phone, but what is on the phone." She examined the filthy encrusted phone again. "And what is it that's ON the phone, as opposed to IN it that is so valuable?" Tombspawn gave his evil creepy grin again. "Leviticus, chapter seventeen, verse eleven," he reminded her. She squinted and examined the dark crusts on the phone. "Blood?" He nodded. "Joseph Harper's blood." They drove on into the night. ------- vramm "Arf-arf-arf-arf-arf!" Annie was just starting to get ready for bed when she heard the familiar tell-tale sound of Quantum Knight arriving on the outside balcony, followed by Scrappy's frantic welcoming barking. She frowned, glanced at the clock, and wondered. "What happened? Did she just bring Joey back?" As she eagerly rolled out into the living room, her jaw dropped open in astonishment when she saw that the superhero was bringing someone back, but it wasn't Joey. It was Tricia, who was currently decked out in the skimpiest, sexiest, most revealing superhero costume she had ever seen, and who was apparently drunk enough to not be able to stand up on her own. "Oh. No!" she yelled. Tricia stumbled inside, propped up by Quantum Knight. "Please Annie..." she mumbled. "Oh No-no-no-no-no!" Annie shouted. "Bei meer iz doos nish' ka' laikahk! What have you been up to?" She rolled forward angrily. "Did you go out like THAT? Who are you supposed to be? Cleavage Queen?" Tricia swooned and Quantum Knight supported her. "Save it, Annie," the superhero said. "She's had a rough night." She walked her inside. "Come on, Trish. Inside. Let's sit down." Tricia moaned and sluggishly tripped inside as she leaned on her friend. The dog jumped about their ankles, eagerly sniffing, welcoming the two home, and ran off to find something to chew on. Annie dropped her attitude. "What's the matter with her? Is she drunk?" Quantum Knight shook her head. "No. I think she's in debt. She burned a lot of time tonight, and I think it's just now hitting her. This happen before?" "Not to this extent," Annie answered. "Trish, do you..." "Yes, please," Tricia pre-answered, dropping onto the couch. Her face was pale, drenched in sweat, and her eyes were glazed. Annie blinked. "Oy vey." She took a deep breath and completed the question. "Trish, do you need a bucket?" She nodded to Quantum Knight, and pointed to the kitchen. "Could you get her one?" "Ew!" Quantum Knight pulled back her mask and ran to the kitchen. A moment later she returned with a large plastic mixing bowl. "Will this do?" "Perfect," Annie said, taking the bowl and putting it in Tricia's lap. "Can you make her a cold compress?" As Sandy ran back to the kitchen, Tricia sunk forward, dropped her head into the mixing bowl, and groaned. "It's okay," Annie consoled her, petting her head and holding back her hair. "You're home now. Feel free to heave your guts." Tricia moaned into the bowl. "Ohhh ... I'm sorry Annie." "You can apologize later. Time now to return to sender. Let's see some brekhekhts." "I don't deserve you," she whined into the bowl, her voice sounding hollow in the plastic echo. "Damn straight. Now let's see what your gall bladder is up to." Sandy returned with a wet washcloth and handed it to Tricia. "Thanks," she moaned, and wiped her face. "Are you going to throw up?" Annie asked. Tricia sunk her head back down into the bowl and held it there for a good ten seconds before emitting a pitiful "No," but she didn't relinquish the bowl. Annie sat back, sighed, and raised an eyebrow at Quantum Knight. "So? What happened?" Sandy pulled off her gloves. "Well, from what I got, she had a date that went bad, followed by a temper-tantrum infused exhibition binge at a nightclub. I'd ask about where she got the costume from, but I think I've got something like this at home. Matilda give her this?" Annie nodded. Sandy chuckled. "Thought so. Mine's white. Well, used to be." Tricia groaned, sat up, and flopped to the back of the couch with her eyes closed. She wiped the wet cloth over her face and neck, and then down her chest, attracting Sandy's and Annie's attentions to her breasts. "So, Ample Lass," Annie began. "How were the Legion tryouts? Did you at least get a complimentary flight ring?" "I've been a bitch," Tricia confessed to the ceiling. "Yes, you have! So good of you to mention it! And also an idiot! Why are you wearing that awful thing? Kenst zakh kholileh farkeeln." "What?" Sandy asked. "I'm not catching a cold, Annie." "You're cold. I can see them from here." Annie turned to Sandy. "So, what brought on this sudden burst of self-evaluation?" "Fighting a super hero and losing," Sandy answered. "Look, sorry to dump this on you Annie, but you've got another teenager to deal with. Trish is going through Cosmic power puberty. Symptoms include selfishness, rash judgements, and general asshole-ishness, and should continue for the next couple of months." She reached out and gently caressed Tricia's face. "But at least we know about it now, so we can deal with it, right?" Tricia opened her eyes. They were still glassy, and she blinked a couple of times at Sandy. "Sandy?" "Yes." "I think I'm going to throw up now." "Head down, girl." Sandy pushed Tricia's head into the bowl. "And keep it there. I don't want you spewing on me. My costume is specifically designed to attract stains." She turned to Annie. "Maybe we should take her to the bathroom?" "I think so. Trish? Can you make it?" "Uhhhh..." Sandy knelt down and took one arm over her shoulder. "Come on, girl! Up!" She lifted Tricia, and the two stumbled into the bathroom. After Sandy got Tricia in front of the toilet, she found a scrunchie and fixed her hair back. Tricia just held her head over the toilet bowl and moaned, while Sandy came out. "So, what now?" Sandy asked Annie. "I guess I should go get her car. Should I bring Joey back too?" They both flinched as they heard a sudden retching noise coming from the bathroom. Annie winced. "Um ... I suppose I could use his help, but if you could just help me get her to bed ... I just don't want him seeing her like this." Sandy nodded, and Tricia retched again. "Let me get her some water," she said, and headed towards the kitchen. Annie watched her. "So um..." she called out. "Did she really fight you?" "Yep!" Sandy called out from the kitchen. "Even got a few good shots in. Got me caught in my own cuffs. Had to pull out all of the tricks to stop her." She emerged with a glass of water. "Once she gets used to the powers and gets a little training, she'll be incredible." Annie pondered the thought of Tricia being a powerful superhero as she heard her roommate hacking and spitting into the toilet. "Wish I could have seen it." Sandy stopped and sighed. "Don't worry. You will. It's probably on YouTube already. We were in a nightclub. Lots of cameras." "Oy. Not good." Annie pinched the bridge of her nose. "If Betty sees this..." "Yeah. My thoughts too. Let's just hope she doesn't see it." ------- It was late in the evening when Sophia slipped back into the dreamscape. She stood on the edge of awareness, wrapped in an azure taffeta caftan which drifted off her schema into the flowing mists of the collective unconsciousness. Star-filled clouds sparkled and permeated her awareness, with each shining star a portal, an entrance into the personal. Dreams leaked from the portals into the mists, filling the dreamscape with colors, odors, music, vocalizations, concepts, and emotions. Two bright stars shined ahead of her, holding her interest. "Odd. There are usually three," she observed. "Someone is up." She leaped towards the twin stars and glided through the mists, her arms outstretched and robes extending behind her, dragging and flowing the fabric from waves into great wings. She soared and approached. One light, calm and blue, oozed with the peacefulness of contented fulfillment, while the other flashed and burned brightly with an inner turmoil. "Oh Joey. The nightmares again? Poor dear." With a gentle flap of her wings, she slowed before the brightly flickering star. It surged with fear and pain, screams and lamenting. Sophia steadied herself, drew courage from her depths and gingerly reached out to touch the star. "This is Joey, isn't it?" The star surged, enveloping her arm in a snaking tendril, grasping her against her will, and pulled. Sophia screamed. Never before had a dreaming mind pulled her inside, but the sheer force overwhelmed her minute resources. She fought and pulled back, but it was useless. It was as if she were fighting a thousand minds all focused on a single task. The star consumed her entirely. What she found inside horrified her. The dreams were in a maelstrom. What was normally a simple setting of shifting perspectives was replaced with the interior of a psychic hurricane. Tornadoes and currents of thoughts tore into her, flinging her, spinning her into the storm. Bubbles of individual perspectives swarmed and bounced off each other violently. Lightning flared and thundered, and Sophia screamed and tumbled in the howling gale. Words echoed and swarmed around her. "ABSOLUTELY NOT! ARE YOU INSANE?" "ANNIE! WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?" "JOEY! HE'S DEAD!" Unable to get her bearings, she latched onto the nearest image and held on. Her hands passed inside the bubble which pulled her inside, and she landed on the hard concrete flooring of an observation room. Sophia looked up to gather her bearings. Armed security guards surrounded Tricia as they all watched a series of close-circuit televisions. They did not appear to be concerned with her. Joey was on the screen, standing before a man in an orange jumpsuit, bars and glass separating them. Tricia watched in terror, clasping her hands tightly around her crucifix. "Please Joey ... Get out of there," she prayed. "So what's the answer?" Joey asked the prisoner. The man in the jumpsuit smirked. "Tell me this, at least. Is my daughter a good fuck?" Joey faltered for just a moment, and then dropped to his knees, screaming. He grabbed his head and dug his fingers into his eyes, shrieking in agony. Blood poured out of his eye sockets. Tricia gasped and shouted. "KILL HIM! NOW!" The security guards jumped into action. The bubble burst, destroying the observation room and throwing Sophia back into the swirling maelstrom. Emotions and colors exploded around her, tossing her like a leaf in a hurricane, and she fell into another bubble. Calmness permeated this scene. The bathroom was in near total darkness, illuminated only by the faintest blue light from the overhead lightbulbs, and Tricia stood naked in the shower. Warm water flowed over her body, relieving the coolness of the chilled air. She stretched and writhed in the warm streams and the cold darkness. Her hands caressed herself, smoothing the soapy lather over her sexy body. A figure shifted in the room, a shadow hidden in the darkness, catching her attention. "Is someone there?" she whispered, and she pulled the curtains back. "Can barely see." The shadow moved again, coming closer. Whoever it was held a camera to her naked body. She angled herself, allowing the water streams to flow over her breasts. "You're watching me, aren't you?" she whispered, lifting her arms over her head. "You want me." The shadow continued to point the camera at her. "You can watch," she said, turning in the shower. "Just don't touch me." The water poured over her face and she turned her wet face to the camera. "Why don't you touch yourself? I don't mind." The darkness shattered as the image burst, leaving Sophia blowing in the maelstrom again. "I'm in Tricia!" she shouted. "But what the hell is this?" Sophia pushed herself against the mental winds, throwing her psyche into the swarm of images. A bubble collided with her, and she tumbled onto the soft carpet of a luxury apartment. A woman screamed in agony in the other room, and Tricia stood on the balcony. "I'M COMING IN!" Tricia shouted, and she punched the glass door with her bare fist. The glass shattered and exploded inward. Sophia instinctively ducked and covered her head, protecting herself from the flying glass. "AND I AM NOT LETTING YOU STOP ME!" she roared as she stomped into the apartment. Something behind Sophia reacted. She didn't see what it was. All she saw was the bolt of lightning that burst out, striking Tricia in the chest. The woman was thrown bodily out of the apartment, and into the empty sky outside. The scene bubble burst, and Sophia tumbled uselessly. "I've got to get out!" She willed herself to fly in the direction of the streams, to use their energy to gain momentum. She dove into the nearest bubble to pull its energy. The warehouse was dark, and Tricia screamed and cried as she knelt down, holding Annie's charred, smoking, lifeless body. Joey screamed and struggled in the background as he choked the life out of a young boy. Sophia ignored the dream image, and ran through the warehouse, picking up momentum. She dove out of the image, back into the maelstrom, and into the next image. She ran past the scene where Joey was kissing a boy while a pretty young girl sat nearby watching with interest, and Sophia dove through the wall. She hit the currents and pulled herself into the next image. She was back in the apartment. She ran past the perplexed trio of Tricia, Annie, and Joey and swerved to miss the pale young girl in black. The young girl touched the floating green crystal which then exploded in eldritch energy and arcane symbols. Sophia jumped out the window, and out of the perspective, back into the swirling mists. Her speed had increased, and she confidently dove into the next bubble. She ran past Tricia who stood next to a hospital bed. The patient was an unknown woman with bandages over her eyes. As Sophia gathered mental momentum, a large metal man crashed in through the window. She plowed through the monstrosity and back into the storm of thoughts. "What the hell is wrong with this girl?" Sophia wondered. "These nightmares feel so strange. Almost like memories. She's not seeing me. It's as if she's not dreaming these." She plunged into another bubble and ran across the sidewalk outside their building. Tricia and Annie were crying as Joey climbed into a car with a new man and woman. He turned and waved goodbye to the two women. She ran through the scene, and back into the storm. Infused with power, she leaped and soared, guiding herself upward and outward. "Must escape!" she yelled. "Gotta get out of here!" A roaring, screeching sound chased her, and Sophia turned her head to see something huge and hidden snaking through the storms, approaching her, hunting her, screaming, and roaring. Twin lights blazed like dragon eyes in the deep mists as the shadowy serpent swooped and turned, diving through the swirling mists, and angling towards her. She gazed at it in confusion. Metal panels, windows, wheels, and doors decorated its long hide. She squinted and gasped. "Is that a Metro train?" The dream train barreled into her, and Sophia bounced and tumbled. Her robes caught on the sharp edges of the doors, and she found herself being dragged at unimaginable speeds through the storm. The power and velocity of the train overwhelmed her, and Sophia closed her eyes and screamed. "RENÉE! HELP!" The doors shifted, and Sophia felt strong hands take her by the arm. "Help me!" she cried, and the hands pulled her inside. More hands took her arms, her shoulders, and waist, and Sophia found herself withdrawn into the relative calm interior of the Metro train. She rested on the floor for a moment as the several people about her whispered to each other. Sophia slowly opened her eyes, and saw the odd sight of four Tricia Sanchezes standing over her, all looking at her critically. She blinked at them in perplexity. "You okay?" one of them asked. "Um, yeah. Thank you," she answered carefully. "Good!" Another one said, popping her hip with attitude. "Now who are you, and what the hell are you doing here?" "Ohh ... This is not good," Sophia lamented, and she stood up carefully. This was nothing like a normal dream. It didn't fit any of her experiences. "Look, sorry for intruding. I'm just trying to find my way out of here." "You better believe you're getting out of here." said the third. "Good! We're all in agreement then," Sophia said with a cautious smile. "I'm going to leave. Now if you could point me the way out..." The nearest Tricia grabbed her by the shoulder and threw her against the door. She was unusually strong. "Fine. Just as soon as you tell me who you are and how you got in here." Sophia took a shuddering breath. "Look, I'm just a memory, or a figment of your imagination, or someone else's imagination. It doesn't matter. I just got lost." "Bullshit. You're real," said one. "I say we torture her. Kick the shit out of her until she talks," said a second. "That's not what we're teaching him," said the first. "It's not like he'll see us," said the fourth. Sophia pushed one hand back against the door and felt the vibrating metal. She probed it. Energy flowed from her hand and into the train. "The train is her," she realized. "I can use this." She concentrated. Energy flowed into the train. "You really don't want me here, do you?" she suggested. The Tricias stared at her with concern and incomprehension. One of them spoke. "The longer she's here, the more she learns." "Yeah," said a second. "I say we throw her out." The Tricia holding her shoulder grabbed her by the neck and pulled her. "All in favor?" she asked. The others chorused in agreement. Sophia's eyes went wide as Tricia pulled her roughly from the door. "This is your stop, lady!" she said as the doors opened. Sophia shrieked as the four Tricias violently shoved her out of the train. "GET OUT!" The train swerved hard, and Sophia tumbled and spun out, her velocity augmented by the train's speed and sudden curve. She screamed, and her trajectory sent her tearing through the sky. She twisted and tumbled, unable to align herself, and plunged through the barrier of Tricia's personal dreamscape and back into the collective unconsciousness. Tricia shifted in her sleep. "And stay out..." she mumbled. ------- Dazed, dizzy, weak, Sophia drifted. Her own mind and body felt so far away, but another mind was closer; one which radiated warmth and kindness. A sanctuary. With her strength faltering, she angled herself towards the next mind and drifted inside. She alighted in the back of a church. Soft benches cradled her body as she rested, and sweet music played in the background. An electric organ played a familiar melody, and single woman's voice sang true. And so it was later, As the miller told his tale, That her face at first just ghostly, Turned a whiter shade of pale. "What the hell was that last dream?" Sophia wondered. "I've never been in a mind so powerful before. That definitely was not human. At least not normal." Her strength regained, Sophia nudged herself upward and peered over the edge of the pews. A large congregation watched a wedding. Hebrew letters decorated the walls, and a rabbi officiated. She scanned the wedding party. Tricia was one of several bridesmaids. Snow Angel was another, her green skin complimenting her blue dress. Joey was the groom, and the bride was hidden under veils. "I'll bet I'm in Annie now." Sophia deduced. "So, where's Joey? Why isn't he in bed?" She watched the ceremony for a minute, listening to the rabbi deliver prayers in an ancient language. An older woman wept loudly in the front pew. "Oh, this is so lovely. Hate to break it," she decided. Sophia stood up and marched up the aisle. "Excuse me!" she said loudly, attracting everyone's attention. "Sorry for interrupting. Lovely service, by the way." The rabbi stopped, and the entire congregation and the bridal party turned to look at her. The bride lifted her veil, and Annie's green eyes peered out in perplexity. Sophia gave her a smile. "Thought it was you. At least, I think it's you." She approached the girl. "May I?" "What do you want?" Annie asked. Sophia took her hand and just touched her. "That's it. Just wanted to make sure it's you. Listen, can we talk in private?" She looked about at the bridal party and congregation, knowing full well that none of these people were actually there. "I just want to ask you something. Won't take a moment." Annie shifted her head slightly. "I'm getting married." Sophia nodded. "I know. And you can come right back to this. I just need to ask you a quick question." Annie shrugged. "Okay. As long as it's quick." And she hiked up her dress and walked up the aisle. Sophia watched the young girl as she marched with proud strides, and decided to not remind her that she was paralyzed. They reached the atrium, Sophia closed the doors behind them. "Okay. I really am sorry for this interruption, but I need to know something. Where is Joey?" Annie squinted and looked at the door to the temple. "Not that one," Sophia clarified. "The one that goes to bed with you. He's not in bed, or just not asleep. Did he go to bed with you tonight?" Annie thought about it. "Oh. No. He didn't," she remembered. "Where is he?" "Sandy's house." "And where is that?" Annie pondered that for a moment. "Cheverly." "Cheverly? Is that close? I'm new in town." Annie shrugged. "Ehh. I don't know. A couple miles east." "Do you have her address?" She squinted. "Who are you?" Sophia smiled. "Ohhh-kay, that's my cue. Thanks. You're very sweet." She reached up and caressed Annie's face. "You're very lucky. He loves you a lot." Annie smiled and blushed. "Thank you." As Sophia traced her finger across Annie's face, she let out a bit of energy. Blue sparks sputtered from her fingertips. "Your father is ready to walk you down the aisle now." The door opened, and an elderly man looked through. "Annie? We're ready." he said. Annie beamed, and pulled her veil down. And as he lead her into the sanctuary, Sophia watched and enjoyed the simple sight of the girl walking down the aisle to the sweet music towards her true love. ------- As the sedan pulled up in front of the small house, Ada read the hand-lettered sign which stood out front. "Lady Zamora - Palms Read - Fortunes Told" She gave Tombspawn a critical look. "Really?" Tombspawn parked the car. "When one speaks with the dead, one often meets others who do the same." He took the cell phone and the three stepped out of the car. "You do realize they're all a bunch of wannabe frauds," Ada complained. "I am fully familiar with the art of cold-reading, but the Lady's abilities far exceed those of the simple charlatan." They stepped to the front porch. "She has proved herself useful in the past." He rang the bell. Adamantine glanced at the night sky. "It's pretty late. She may not be up now." "She will be expecting us." The door opened almost immediately, and Ada saw a regal elegant woman in a colorful gown and bright jewelry. The woman sized the three up, and she centered her attention on Tombspawn. "You always arrive in darkness," she said in a rich Jamaican accent. "With a dead man following you," she said, angling her eyes towards Muscle. The brute growled, and she considered Ada. "At least this time you come with a living companion." Tombspawn bowed his head slightly. "Lady. It is good to see you again. You appear well." "I take care of myself. You look like shit." Tombspawn considered it, and said nothing. Ada cleared her throat impatiently. He glanced at Ada, saw the annoyance in her eyes, and returned his gaze to the Lady. "My apologies. Lady Zamora, may I introduce to you..." "I know who you are," she said quickly to Adamantine. "Are you here for a reading as well?" she asked the woman specifically. Ada shrugged. "Me? No. I'm just here for..." "Then do not talk to me," she interrupted. Lady Zamora returned her attention to Tombspawn. "What brings you here?" Ada grimaced at the woman. "What. You don't know yet?" Tombspawn and Lady Zamora ignored Ada's question, and the man pulled out the plastic bag with the cell phone. "I require a blood reading." Lady Zamora stared at the bloodied cell phone for a second, and raised an eyebrow. "It will be expensive." He nodded. She nodded and stepped back. "Come inside," she commanded, and she headed for a back room. The three supervillians stepped inside the small house. "Leave that thing by the door. And wipe your feet!" she shouted. Ada wasn't quite sure what she had meant by "that thing", and hoped she wasn't referring to herself, but she soon realized that she meant Muscle. She glanced down at her spotless bare feet, and decidedly didn't wipe them. "Stay." Tombspawn commanded his golem. Muscle growled, dipped his head down in submission, and stood by the door. Then Tombspawn and Ada followed Lady Zamora into her reading room. The Lady took her seat at one end of a circular red velvet covered table. Candles illuminated the room, incense permeated the air, and two chairs had been placed on the other side of the table in anticipation for the visitors. As Ada took one of the chairs, Tombspawn remained standing. "Do you have money?" the Lady asked. Tombspawn produced a stack of bills from his jacket and placed them on the table. "Will this be sufficient?" She took the money and thumbed through it. "More than enough. May I see the blood?" He produced the cell phone, handed it to her, and sat down. "Tell me about him. How do I get to him?" Ada watched the Lady Zamora as she peered at the blood-stained cell phone. The Lady's face twisted in puzzlement. "This is heart-blood." Tombspawn nodded. She continued. "Pumped directly from his heart. Is he not dead?" "He lives still." "A rare commodity." A smile crept on her face, and she placed the cell phone in the direct center of the round table. "With heart-blood, I can do more than just read. I will need silence." She placed her hands on the cell phone and closed her eyes. They waited. A flare of silver energy burst from her hands, causing Ada to gasp in shock, and the Lady Zamora pulled her hands outward. Eldritch lines of glowing energy followed her fingers across the table and expanded with her spreading hands. Patterns twisted and arranged themselves. Circles and embedded squares, diamonds, triangles, and arcane glyphs appeared in the design. The cell phone sparkled and flicked as the glowing lines shimmered and illuminated. The Lady opened her eyes and stared at the design and glyphs. She waved her hands, and the designs spun, orbiting the glyphs and geometries about the center cell phone. "He is well protected," she finally said. "We knew that," Ada muttered. "He is guarded by the four elements. Fire and Earth in the inner circle, and Air and Water in the next, assisted by the Master and the Slaves." Ada frowned and turned to Tombspawn. "What?" she mouthed silently. Tombspawn watched her critically. "You refer to his guardians? Miss Sanchez and Miss Freidman, plus the four EarthGuard heroes. How do we get past them?" "You cannot," she said defiantly. "The bonds are of love, and they are strong. If you were to try to break them from the outside, they would bind together even stronger than before, and you will not be able to surpass them." "Well," Ada said. "That was money well spent." Lady Zamora smiled and cocked her head. "But there is another way." "How?" Tombspawn asked. "He transforms those close to him. Each element in its opposite. Fire in water, Earth in air, Air in earth, and Water in fire. They change for him, and bind to him. But the binding is threatened." She peered at the symbols. "A muse lures him." "A muse?" Tombspawn asked. "A spirit. She leads him to crisis. Here. Another layer of transformations. Not elemental in nature, but mathematical. Zero, Two, Negative, and Root of the Negative. When he transforms these, brings each of these to One, he will reach the crisis." Ada groaned. "And this is helping us?" Lady Zamora closed her eyes and sat back straight. She digested the concepts. "He will leave his guardians on his own accord." Tombspawn's and Ada's eyes opened wide. "Really?" Tombspawn asked. "When?" "Within a fortnight." "How do you know this?" Ada challenged. Lady Zamora looked at her critically. "It is my talent. Here," she said, pointing to some lines projected on the table. "His heart is troubled now, and he desires to leave. He fights against the Fire, but the binding is too strong. For him to be free, the binding itself must be used to push him away. The muse leads him to that." She pointed to another spot on the indecipherable design. "Here. She teaches him. She leads him to the epiphany." Ada still looked confused, and The Lady sighed. "He stays because he loves. He will leave because he loves." Tombspawn sat back in his chair, bridged his fingers, and thought. "He will walk away from his most powerful guardians. Interesting." He paused. "He will need someone to walk to," he said with a smile. "That will just leave us the lesser guardians, the heroes of EarthGuard, to deal with. They must still fall." "That I cannot help you with," Lady Zamora said. "That I can deal with," said Tombspawn confidently. "But I will need time to set things up. Recruit more." He eyed her carefully. "You said you can do things with heart-blood. Can you control this epiphany? Delay it?" "That I can do." Tombspawn reached into his jacket and threw another wad of bills on the table. "Do it. Then wait for my call to release him." Lady Zamora took the cash, then pulled out a black ribbon. As she tied it to the cell phone, Ada leaned in to Tombspawn. "What exactly are you planning?" "We have four heroes to take out. Once they are defeated, and EarthGuard is in disarray, we let Mr. Harper have is little epiphany, and he walks away from the last two women who can protect him, and into our custody. We position ourselves to take him. Once we have him and he is unprotected, we can do what we like with him." Ada smiled and crossed her legs. "Sounds like a plan." "Will that be all?" the Lady Zamora asked. Tombspawn stood up. "For now. Thank you, my Lady." He bowed. She nodded her head to him, and he left. Ada followed for a couple steps, but stopped before leaving the room. She turned back and considered the fortune teller. "Yes?" she asked. The supervillain glanced at her palm, and said "Can you do one more reading?" "You should pay me." "We've already paid you," Ada said defiantly, and she held her hand out to the fortune teller. "What about me? Can you tell me my future?" Lady Zamora scrutinized the woman, and a sly grin spread over her lips. "Certainly." She took her hand and examined it. "You seek growth and love," she started. "You're heart's desire is locked away. He will unlock you." She looked up into her eyes. "He will break you." Adamantine smiled. "Thanks. Just what I wanted to hear." ------- Sophia opened her eyes and just stared at the blank ceiling for a minute. Many questions haunted her. Why does Tricia Sanchez have such inhuman willpower? Why is her dreamscape so turbulent? Was that her father in prison? Was that psychic abilities? Did she inherit them? Maybe she suffers from psychosis or has multiple personality syndrome. She frowned. And why is Joey not sleeping with them tonight? And where the hell is Cheverly anyways? Her mouth was dry, and her body ached. She sat up carefully, swooned for a second, and pulled her blue terry robe closer around her frail form. Then leaning on her I.V. stand, she stood up, and carefully walked to the bedroom door, rolling the stand with her. "Renée?" she called out. Her assistant sat on the living room couch, working on her laptop computer, and she turned in surprise. "Sophie! You're up! Are you okay?" She set the computer aside and quickly ran to her. "That was fast. Are you done? Here, let me help you." She took her by the arm and guided her to the couch. "Can I get you anything?" she asked. "Water," Sophia answered sitting down. "And I think I need a new bag," she said, indicating her I.V. "I'll take care of it." She hustled off to the kitchen. As Renée collected a new I.V. drip and a glass of water, Sophia let her eyes drift over the interior of the apartment. Every square inch of wall had been painted over with her assistant's murals, ensuring that they would lose their security deposit when they left. Easels held finished paintings and drawings. The coffee table, end tables, and every other surface was covered with clay sculptures and flower arrangements. She lifted the laptop and examined the text. "You're trying short stories now, Renée?" "Novels!" she called from the kitchen. She came back with a glass of water. "Had an idea for a coming-of-age story. But instead of a young boy becoming a man, he becomes a god, and he has to learn how gods work, and why they create universes." As Sophia sipped her water, Renée prattled on and started placing the new I.V. drip. "It's all about this whole cycle where there is this quintessence which is the fuel the gods feed upon. It allows them to manipulate the worlds, and it can be split up into space, time, matter, and energy to create new worlds. But if they split it up and recombine it correctly, they can build more quintessence than went into it. So the path of a god is to first discover the techniques of manipulation and recombining, and then learning micro-management, and then macro-management. And then ... Am I boring you?" "No, but you lost me." Renée chuckled "Sorry. But you know how you effect me." The I.V. bag was set, and she leaned down and kissed Sophia on the lips. "How are you feeling?" "Like shit. I'm going back to bed soon." Her assistant grinned. "Did you want me to come along?" "I'm still working," Sophia answered. "Oh. Joey not in bed yet?" "Not home." She gave her a serious look. "I need you to do some research. Can you find Cheverly?" "Cheverly? Let me check." Renée picked up her laptop and started typing. "Cheverly ... Cheverly ... Maryland! ... About 6 and a half miles, nearly due east. Do you have an address?" "No. But I've got a name. Sandy." "Sandy? Don't know who that is. Not in the dossier. I'll do a search and compile a list of Sandys in Cheverly." "Thanks." "Do you want me to drive you over there?" Sophia shook her head. "No. I can make it." She thought for a moment. "Oh, and Renée? When you get a list and I go back in, can you do some more research for me?" "Sure? What do you need?" "Check Tricia's father. See if he's in prison. Also, see if he has any psychic abilities." Renée frowned. "I don't remember him being in prison, and I haven't heard of any abilities. As far as I know, he's normal, but I'll check." She paused. "Why?" "I went inside Tricia. Her mind is powerful. I've never felt anything like her before. But I saw an image inside her. A man in prison had mental abilities, and he said something about his daughter." "Well, if she got powers from him, her mother would have had to have powers as well. The gene IS recessive." She looked at Sophia. "Could it have just been a dream?" "Maybe. But it felt like a memory, but Joey was being wounded in it, and obviously that didn't happen. So I don't know what it was." "I'll check it out." ------- Chapter 12: Cat Food and Ice Cream The television, still muted from a commercial break half an hour ago, silently flickered images and strobed the dark room, bathing it in a chaotic band of ever-changing colored light while Schrödinger softly and silently padded through. Her lean body cast long shadows from the television over the carpet, and her cursed collar was now laying on the bed upstairs. She took a seat on the soft carpet, licked one paw, and briefly considered the dozing boy on the couch. She knew this one. She had met him before. He was the one that brought that stupid dog over; the one that tried to rut with her. An item dropped from his grasp and fell to the floor. Schrödinger perked up. The thing he dropped was not food, but some plastic object, which was disappointing. The boy's hands were now empty, and she knew what that usually signaled. The woman who could vanish would routinely empty her hands before going to get food. Perhaps he would be doing that soon. She waited for the boy, and eagerly watched to see if he knew how to get water out of the sink and how to use the machine that opened the cans. She especially preferred the food that came in cans over that dry, crunchy stuff. The boy rolled and turned to face the back of the couch. If cats could sigh, she would have. He would be sleeping for a while, she decided, and the woman who could operate the can opener would not be returning until sunrise. She silently padded off to her warm vent and lay down on it. The warm comfortable breeze fluffed her fur and tickled her nose, and she pondered the possibility that the woman might not return one day. If that were to happen, she would have to rely on the boy for food and water here. She really hoped he could use the can opener. She liked the food in the cans. The boy mumbled something in his sleep, and she twitched her ears. She became concerned. What if he died here? That was always a possibility. What would she do then? Go somewhere else for food, she supposed. She decided if that was the case, she should probably eat him first. ------- The concrete nest trembled slightly with a constant thunder as cars rolled above one after another. It was lined with carpet remnants, old clothes, trash, and papers. A small metal wastebasket stood by one wall and provided much of the light in the nest, a fire burning various scraps of wood and papers inside it. Walls were covered with drawings, scenes of the city, and people's faces. The ceiling rumbled with each passing car. And in the center, the small boy sat huddled for warmth, wrapped in layers of discarded clothing, and he carefully drew on pages of old newspaper. He was drawing her face again, but he couldn't get her smile back. He erased and tried again, but every time he tried to make the smile right, it turned out wrong. She would be grimacing and angry at him. A burning fury and impatience always came through her lips and eyes. The blankets covering the opening shifted, and a red-haired woman poked her head inside the nest. She spotted him and smiled. "Oh, there you are! You are a hard man to find." Joey looked up at the woman as she crawled inside. She was a bit too large to really fit inside his nest, but she made it work somehow. "You know, I had to check under a lot of bridges to find you." she added. "Hi Sophia," he said. She made herself comfortable, sitting cross-legged on a pile of clothes. "So, nice place you've got here. Very private. Secluded. What are you working on?" Joey considered his drawing. "I'm trying to make her right. I'm trying to make her happy, but she keeps turning angry." She cocked her head. "Do you think it is something you are doing wrong?" "I don't know. But I need to fix her." Sophia nodded and watched him as he drew. "Joey, I know that Tricia is a strong willed woman. I certainly learned that tonight. And she may not be someone you can easily fix by just redrawing her. She may need something more." He shrugged. "I don't know what else to do." "Well, maybe we can explore that." Sophia shifted on the pile of clothes. "So I've been thinking about your problem." "Which one?" he asked sarcastically. "Using your powers at range." "Oh. That one." He looked at the pencil he was using. "I thought I just needed new pencils." "Eventually we all do. But I was thinking. You and I are not that different. I had this same trouble too, using my powers at range. So I started thinking about what it took, and I realized, it wasn't how hard I tried or the number of times I practiced on people. It took something else." Joey looked up at her. "Really?" She nodded. "Yes. I would practice for hours every day, but for the longest time I couldn't affect people at a distance." "So how did you do it?" Sophia smiled. "It was the number of people I practiced on." He frowned, and she continued. "As long as I stayed with the same small number of people, I never got better. I had to affect more people. Branch out. Explore. Be willing to take more chances, and learn the dark secrets of others." Joey lowered his head. "Hmm," he grunted. "You don't seem to like this idea." He shrugged. Sophia sighed and looked about the small nest-hole under the bridge. "Is this where you used to live? Back before you met Tricia and Annie?" He nodded. "One place. It gets pretty loud and stuffy, so not many people like it." He erased and started drawing again. "But I like it." "You're alone a lot in here, aren't you?" "Yeah." "Being alone is easy. Dealing with new people is hard. But we have to do the hard things to get on in life." "I like it here." Sophia smirked to herself, and casually scratched the back of her head. Red sparks jumped from her hand as she released energy. "You know what would have happened if you always stayed here..." The fire died down, and a screeching roar echoed outside the small hole. Joey snapped his head up in panic as he heard the demon's wings flapping nearby. A shadow passed over the blankets covering the only escape. "No!" he gasped in terror. "She would have found you," Sophia declared. "She would have killed you, you know. And then she would have killed everyone else. Including Tricia and Annie." He shrunk back into the corner of the hole, watching the opening with dread. "You had to leave here," she added. "You had to go out and meet them. That's what saved you, and them. Now it's time to grow again. Time for you to meet new people." "Make her go away." Sophia held out her hand. "Come with me. She can't come close to me. I'll protect you. But you have to come with me. Okay?" Joey hesitated for the briefest moment, and nodded. "Okay." He reached out and took her hand. They stepped out through the blanketed opening and onto the steep concrete under-structure of the bridge. Sophia took a moment to notice that from the angle of the sun and the position of the hole under the bridge, there was no possible way for a shadow to have passed over the nest-hole, but such is the logic of dreams. Together they made their way down the steep hill and onto the street below. Joey scanned the skies nervously and held onto Sophia's hand tightly. She walked confidently. "She's not coming," she said with absolute certainty. "She can't. She fears you when you don't hide, you know." Joey relaxed slightly. "Good." They walked for a little ways. "So, where are we going?" "You tell me," Sophia answered. "The quest is for you to meet people. I'd like to see how that turns out. So who do you want to meet?" He shrugged. "I don't know." They found themselves at the front gates of the Myer's Institute. How they got there hadn't been explained adequately, and Sophia grinned to herself. "There must be someone here you're interested in," she concluded. Joey blushed slightly. "Well, yeah." "Well, let's go meet her." They marched up to the front doors and encountered the security turnstile. Joey stopped. "I don't think I have my badge. Maybe we should just go home." Sophia squeezed his hand and a faint sparkle of blue energy released as she infused him. "I think you do, and you also must have mine as well." He checked his pockets, and found two badges. "Oh, here." He examined her badge and gave it to her, swiped his badge, and pushed through the turnstile. She swiped hers and followed him in, pocketing her ID badge and taking his hand again. They walked through the halls of the school, passing students as they chatted in small clusters while others dug through their lockers. Sophia scanned the students. They seemed to range extremely in age, from six to eighteen. "All these kids have powers?" He nodded. "Yeah. Most of them are mutants and sciences." She pondered this. "How come they aren't using their powers? I'd expect with so many kids with powers that half of them would be flying around or shooting things." "School rule. No powers outside of class," he explained. "Mr. Grimes says if you use your powers too much, things get out of hand and people get hurt, even if your powers don't hurt people. Also, it's good practice to blend in with others." "So who are we looking for?" Joey hesitated. "Lynne," he finally confessed. They wandered the halls, passing more students and the occasional teacher. Sophia would notice students he felt closer kinship to, and he would talk about them "That's Simon. He can control electronics," he said, pointing to his friend. "That's Kaelyn. She said she got bit by a radioactive cat but I think she made that up." "That's Raquel. She can reflect energy." He saw three boys in the distance. "Those are Clyde, Neil, and Brandon. They're assholes." He turned a corner to avoid the three boys. "Why are they important to you?" He sighed. "They're the ones I had to fight. I got in trouble because of them." Sophia nodded and saw two young girls up ahead. "Who are they?" "Sarah and Willow. They're mages." "They're pretty," she observed. "Yeah," he admitted. "Willow is dating Yamal. Sarah is in my class." She nudged him. "You like her?" Joey squirmed a bit. "Well, yeah," he conceded. "She's okay, I guess." "So go talk to her." He considered it, and hesitated. "Go on," she encouraged. Joey finally shrugged and approached Sarah. "Hi Sarah." Sarah glanced at him, opened her notebook, and scribbled in it. "Hi," she whispered back. Sophia studied the girl. She was a porcelain-white beauty with platinum-blond hair, and was wrapped in loose black layers and wore a wide brimmed black hat. Alluring violet-pink eyes peeked out from behind dark sunglasses. She also looked vaguely familiar. Joey paused. He shifted on his feet nervously. "So um..." he hedged. "I have to go," Sarah said, and she turned and walked through the wall of lockers. Sophia blinked in surprise and watched the boy as he stood impotently staring at the lockers. He reached out and touched the solid metal where she had just passed through. "Well, you don't see that everyday," she said walking up to him. "You know, seeing someone as a ghost usually means that you feel she's going to hurt you." Joey shook his head. "No, she can just do that. She went in this room." He followed the wall until he found a door. Sophia followed him inside. They were now in the school cafeteria. Tables had been set up, and although there was no sign of Sarah, a beautiful dark-haired girl sat nearly alone in the center of the room at one of the tables. A handsome boy stood nearby. "That's Lynne," Joey said, pointing to her. "Whoa. She's gorgeous," Sophia said wistfully, admiring the dark-chocolate wavy hair, flawlessly fair skin, ruby lips, blushed cheeks, and killer curves. Sophia cocked her head. "I can see why you like her. Who's the boy?" "Jeff. Her brother." She shifted on her hips and smirked as she considered the handsome boy. "Not bad. You don't mind if I pay him a visit sometime, do you?" Joey shrugged. "Is he a good kisser?" He grimaced and stared at her in bewilderment. "How should I know? Ick!" he repulsed. Sophia shrugged. "Just thought you might know. Well," she pushed his shoulder. "Go to her." Joey took a deep breath and started making his way into the room. Jeff spun and gestured, and the tables suddenly slid and moved on their own, barring Joey's way. He took a different direction, but the tables moved again, this time forming long walls and chaotic paths. Joey tried climbing over tables, but an unseen force pushed him back, preventing him from taking shortcuts. Tables continued to shift, creating a dynamic labyrinth about the young girl, and Sophia watched with concerned interest. The boy sprinted, running down lengths of tables, and passages opened and closed, forming looping corridors and knots of channels. He ducked around corners and pushed his way further in, but the tables continuously slid outwards, erasing his progress. Joey stopped and shouted. "Stop it! Jeff! What are you doing?" "Practicing," the boy answered. Sophia walked up to Joey and tenderly placed one hand on his shoulder. "Okay. That's enough," she consoled him. "Let's go somewhere else." "It's not fair," Joey complained. "He's not supposed to be using his powers." "I'm sure that's not the reason why you couldn't reach her," Sophia surmised. "Let's go." They walked out of the room together, and were soon on the streets. How they arrived on the streets was also inadequately explained, but Sophia said nothing about it. "Mazes mean indecision, confusion, and feeling lost and undirected," she said instead. "Yet you could see her in the center. You knew what you were going for, but you couldn't reach her. There are hidden obstacles." "Jeff kept moving the tables," he explained impatiently. "This isn't Jeff's fault. I think it's someone else's." Sophia thought for a moment. "Joey? Why do you like Lynne?" Joey smiled and blushed. "Well, she's pretty." "She's very pretty. So are Sarah and Willow and Kaelyn and Raquel. I saw a lot of pretty girls. Why Lynne?" He shrugged and stepped past a juggler. Sophia noticed they were now in a small park filled with various street performers. "I don't know," he mumbled, and stopped. "I guess I just like her most." He cocked his head and looked into the distance. Sophia followed his gaze, and saw Lynne and Jeff playing guitar in the park. "The others don't notice me as much." "So she notices you?" At that moment she could see Lynne look around and spot Joey. Her smile was shy and lovely, and it easily penetrated the crowd. "Yeah," he agreed. "She sees me." "That's as good a reason as any," Sophia said. They walked forward, and Sophia could hear their bright singing. Joey listened with enraptured attention, and picked up a CD from their table, dropping a ten dollar bill to pay for it. Lynne smiled graciously and switched to a strumming bridge in the song. "Are you Joey Harper?" she asked. "No. Sanchez," he replied. "You're very good. You should go professional." "Thank you," she said quizzically. "You really look like Joey Harper. I always wanted to meet him." As Joey wandered away from her, Sophia frowned. "That was a memory, wasn't it?" She trotted up to him. "That actually happened, right?" "Yeah. It's a good CD." "That was important. What do you suppose she meant by that?" He shrugged. "Don't know." He continued walking through the throngs of people. Sophia followed him closely, looking a bit exasperated. "Aren't you even curious?" she asked. "You must be. Why don't you ask her?" They were standing under the bridge again, and Joey looked up to the blanketed entrance of his nest-hole. "I should go back now." "No, you don't need to go back there anymore." He ignored her and started climbing the embankment. But Sophia grabbed him and turned his body around. "No! I said you're not going back in there!" "Let go of me!" "Stop HIDING! Why aren't you curious about her?" "Why don't you just leave me alone?" "Because I have a responsibility to you." "I don't even know you! I don't who you are, or what you are! What are you doing with me?" "So are you asking now?" "Yes! What are you?" "You're asking the wrong person." Sophia said. "You shouldn't be asking me these things. You should be asking HER." Joey stared at her with incomprehension. "I'm going back," he decided, and pushed himself away. "What? You're just going home now?" "Whatever." "That hole is not your home!" Sophia shouted. "It's just where you go to hide. To disappear. To become a non-person." "I'm used to it," Joey declared, and he strode towards the entrance. "I can do it again." "So you want to go home, homeless boy?" Sophia asked, and she clenched her fists tightly. The red sparks flared from her hands, and the entrance to the hole collapsed. Joey stopped, and turned back to her. "Fine!" she continued. "Then let's go HOME." Joey bit his lip. "Home? What do you mean?" he asked cautiously. She marched up to him. "Home. You know." He shook his head. "I don't want..." "Home," she decided. ------- It was a small split-level house nestled in a cul-de-sac somewhere in suburban Pennsylvania, and Sophia and Joey stood outside on the front sidewalk. Some of his toys were scattered on the front lawn, and two cars were parked in the driveway. "So this is home?" she asked. "Yeah," he answered carefully. "But I don't want to go there." "I think this is where the answers are." She gently touched his shoulder. "Let's go," she said, guiding him forward. "Who's home?" Joey swallowed. "Dad." "Is your mom home too?" He shook his head. They entered through the side door, and wandered into the kitchen. Sophia dragged her fingers across the kitchen table. It felt solid and textured, still holding a reality that could only come from years of early familiarity. Joey walked cautiously, exiting the kitchen and entering the front foyer. Family portraits decorated the walls, showing a happy couple fawning over a gurgling chubby infant. He took the stairs up and turned a corner. Sophia followed. "This is my room," he said. As he walked in and lay on his bed, Sophia examined the room. It was messy, like most kids rooms, with Lego bricks, Transformer toys, and dirty clothes scattered about the floor, making it difficult to walk through. Posters of superheroes blanketed the walls: Stargold and Black Guard, Hyperion and Technarch, Jade Hawk, Captain Justice, Impedus, Olympian. "So you like superheroes, huh?" she asked. He shrugged. "My dad gave me those." She frowned. "No superheroines. I thought at least you would have Snow Angel here." He shrugged again. "Where's your father?" Joey picked up a patchwork teddy bear and cuddled with it. "He's around," he said dejectedly. "Don't you want to see him?" He shook his head. "No." "Why not?" Joey didn't answer. He just curled onto the bed, clutching his teddy bear. Sophia watched him for a moment, and reached out towards him. "There must be some reason," she said softly as a flare of red sparks erupted from her hand, "that you do not want to see him." He curled into a ball. The room darkened in response as a memory took hold. Voices came in from down the hall. She turned her head and listened. An argument between a man and a woman echoed through the house from the far master bedroom. "Stephen. Please, just tell me! What is the problem." "I'm sorry. It's just not going to work out." "Is it me? Have I done something wrong? Talk to me." "No, it's not you. You're perfect. It's just me. I just can't do this. I can't have you in my life." "It's been four years! I'm not asking you to forget her, or stop loving her, but you need to move on! You need someone. HE needs someone. I'm here for you." "I'm sorry Sherrie. I really am. We can't do this anymore. It's for your own good." Joey was still curled up on his bed and hugging his teddy bear. The boy was very small now, and wearing pajamas. Sophia heard footsteps approaching, and he ducked under his covers. The door opened a crack, filling the room with a sharp shaft of light, and a woman peeked inside. She was crying. "Good-bye Joey," she whispered. "I'm so sorry." And she left. Sophia heard Joey sniffing under the covers, and she gently placed her hand on his body and comforted him. A moment later a form appeared in the doorway. Sophia could only make out a strong male silhouette. Joey looked up at the darkness. "What just happened?" he asked. "I'm sorry, Joey," the silhouette responded. "But Sherrie is not coming back. Now go to sleep. We have a lot of work to do in the morning." As his father left, Sophia sat in silence for several minutes, thinking, digesting, and finally understanding. "That was not fair of him to do that to you," she said. "We had to practice," Joey mumbled from under the covers. "And she could have gotten hurt." Sophia shook her head. "You needed a family. You needed to be shown how to be a man, not how to be a hero. He took that away from you." She looked up at the doorway. "He locked away his own heart, just when you needed to see him open it, to show you how to love." She rubbed his back through the covers. "That's why you can't approach girls. You have no male role model. You just don't know how to do it, or even which questions to ask." Joey peered out from under the covers and looked her in the eyes questioningly. She smiled at him, giving him comfort. "But it's not too late. You can still learn. And now that I know what you need, I can help you." She patted him lightly and stood up. "Come on. Let me take you back home." "Home?" he asked. She stood up and reached her hand to him. "Your real home." As he took her hand, the room brightened, and he was taller and older, wearing his normal clothes. They walked out the door and into a wide, sunny field. As they strode through the tall grass and sunshine, Sophia smiled and spoke to him. "Joseph, I know for a fact that you were placed on this Earth to learn how to love, and then to love others. Just as I was placed on this Earth to learn how to inspire, and then to inspire others. And it's not fair what happened to you, but we can move past it." A light breeze picked up, blowing her hair and robes in waving patterns. Petals and seeds from flowers were caught in the wind, along with the sweet fragrance of daffodils and honeysuckle. "It is not a big secret," she continued, "but every person you meet has a secret desire, a dream, a wish, and a need to be desired and cared for. And if you wish to get close to someone, that is your simplest opening. So many men when approaching women offer the stupidest pick-up lines of bad puns or double entendres, trying to look clever or trying to break past defences with pop psychology, but the simplest statement of 'I like you, and I find you interesting' works best on anyone." Joey walked beside her, enraptured by the simple advice. She smiled at him. "Do you like her? Do you like Lynne?" she asked. He nodded. "Then tell her, and take interest in her. And keep in mind; She has a secret desire. Find out what that desire is, and do what you can to fulfill it. Take interest in her needs and her dreams, and always remember that every new person is not just a name or a particularly pretty face or a delicious body, but an entire country of her own. Be prepared to explore her for years. There is an entire history, a train load of emotional baggage, family cultures, neurosis', language, and attitudes you will never imagine and never expect to discover. But each woman is a treasure of unimaginable riches." They emerged from the park outside his building and walked up the streets of Adams Morgan. "Now I am not offering you a magic phrase that will pick up any girl. No, it must be honest. She will see through you if you fake interest just to get in her pants." She gave him a smirk. "But if you genuinely care about her, if you are interested in her life, and her secret desire, then she will open her heart for you." They stopped outside his building. "That's it?" he asked. "For now," she answered. "That and wear a condom." Joey chuckled and looked at the front door to his building. "But what about Tricia?" "That still applies to her. She has a secret desire. Find out what it is." She considered him. "You know, when I was at your stage of mastery, I started getting this knack for figuring out what people needed. You may have this too. Pay attention to your feelings. They may give you clues." He shrugged. "Okay. Um ... Are you coming upstairs?" "No. I've kept you in stage five sleep for too long. I'll be leaving. We'll talk later." Joey nodded. "Okay. I'll see you later." He headed for the door, stopped, and turned back. "Sophia?" he asked. "Yes?" He examined her face. "What do you want?" he asked sincerely. A sad look crossed over her eyes. "That's usually my cue to leave." He waited patiently, and she sighed. "But in this case ... I want to live." He looked puzzled. She smiled. "But that's not really an option anymore. I guess my real fear is that I'll die forgotten." She looked at the ground for a moment. "So the only thing I have left, is to do something unforgettable." Joey watched her carefully. "I'll remember you," he offered. She beamed. "Maybe you will. We'll talk again." ------- Sophia opened her tearing eyes and stared at the ceiling of her bedroom. She glanced over at the I.V. bag, and squeezed her eyes shut for a second, not wanting to see it. Then she carefully started to sit up. "Sophie?" Renée asked. She was sitting in the room with her, waiting. "How did it go?" Sophia turned to her assistant, and even though she was still tearing, she smiled with pride. "Good," she answered. "We made progress. He's starting to learn." ------- Joey woke up and found himself on Sandy's couch. The television was still on, and he rolled over, looking for the remote. It was on the floor. He picked it up, stood up groggily, turned on a light, and shut off the TV. "Whoah," he muttered. Images of his dream were still fresh in his mind, but were fading. He sat back down and tried to piece the images together again. There was a woman, and something about tables moving around Lynne, and asking about desire. "Mreow?" Schrödinger padded into the room and meowed at him questioningly. Joey glanced at the cat and gave her a grin. "What do you want?" "Mreeow." "Now?" "Mreow." "Why didn't you think about that before we left?" he joked. The cat gave him a puzzled look. "Mreow!" "Okay." Joey scooped up the cat and took her to the kitchen. "That was just something my dad used to say to me when we were at thirty-thousand feet." Schrödinger purred and dangled like a limp dishrag in his grasp as he checked her food and water dishes. "You've got water," he said, picking up her empty food dish. "You hungry? Oh, dumb question. Animals are always hungry, right?" "Mreeow." "You said it." He opened the cabinets one after another, looking for the cat food. "What's the deal with your name anyways? Schro-what was it?" He opened a cabinet and found the box of Meow Mix. "Are you one of those cats who can play piano?" ("!") Joey stopped with his hand on the box of cat food. Something had flashed in his mind. It was an instinct, barely a thought, not even in words, but it came with direction. He stared at the box, and then at the cat for a moment. Schrödinger looked at him expectantly. "Mreow?" He slowly moved his hand off the box and onto a can. "You like this, don't you? ... This is what you want, right?" The cat purred in his hand. ------- It was the following morning, and Tricia stood in the kitchen at the stove, depressed, moping, and scrambling eggs under the watchful eye of a hungry Yorkshire Terrier. She was wearing one of her loose, oversized T-shirts which was emblazoned with a familiar and famous swooshing logo that had been flipped around and turned sideways so that it was a now a drooping logo next to the words "Just Did It". She sighed. Physically she was feeling much better. Throwing up and having a good night's sleep worked wonders for her, and she was fairly well synchronized again, time-wise, but she still felt troubled. "What if I am doing the wrong thing?" she wondered. "Certainly did a lot of wrong things last night. But am I letting the bitchiness from these powers over-punish Joey? How do I know? ... Maybe he was right to beat those kids senseless. They did deserve it. He was defending himself, and someone else." The eggs were mixed, and the pan was hot, but she kept whisking the eggs, the repetitive beating giving her an outlet for her pent-up anger. "No. He didn't just beat them senseless. He nearly killed one, and tortured the others. He made it worse." She sighed again. "I don't know what's right anymore. I want to do the right thing, but how do I know now? After last night, can I trust myself anymore?" The dog licked his chops and waited for a piece of bacon to fall. She glanced at the clock. Quantum Knight would be returning any moment now with Joey. "Oh God, what am I going to do when he returns? What am I going to say? I don't want to tell him about last night, but what if he finds out?" The eggs were not going to get any more mixed, so she poured the mixture into the pan. It sizzled loudly, and she put the empty bowl in the sink and just stared at it. "This isn't about me. This is about him. What does he need? He needs a strong parent. Confident. One who lets him know when he's done something wrong. Like my..." She rubbed her face. "God, no. Not like my dad. I'm nothing like him." "But what if I'm the one doing the wrong thing? What if I'm just hurting him more? Maybe I should ease up on him." There was a knock on the patio door, and Scrappy whirled about and ran to the patio, barking happily. Tricia sighed. "He's here," she thought. "And I still don't know what to do." She closed her eyes in silent prayer. "Jesus, help me. What should I do?" She took a deep breath, and drew strength from it. "I don't know, but for now, I should keep going. Keep doing what I was doing. Just until I figure things out." She turned the stovetop down to a lower temperature, toughened herself up, and headed towards the patio. Then she did a double-take as she saw it was Snow Angel hovering outside the glass door. The superhero was leaning in on the glass with her hands cupped together, peering inside. Tricia hesitated, recalling the time Snow Angel was seriously hitting on her, and wondered if she could get away with just not letting her inside. She glanced at the crystal that hung beside the wall. "The ward blocks light and sound," Tricia remembered. "Maybe if I stay real quiet she'll..." "I CAN SEE YOU!" Snow Angel called out, waving and smiling at her. Tricia groaned and rolled her eyes. "Of course. It's her ward." She sighed. "Why doesn't that thing come with an instruction manual?" she complained, and she opened the door. The dog barked happily at the superhero. Snow Angel gave Tricia the once-over. "Hi scrumptious!" she giggled. "What's cooking?" "Good morning. Come on in." Tricia headed back to the kitchen. "I'm making eggs. Do you want some?" Snow Angel tossed an ice-cube into the room, which the dog merrily chased and caught. "No thank you!" she sing-songed cheerfully. "I've already had my morning protein," she said as she floated in behind her. "If-you-know-what-I-mean!" she giggled. Tricia grunted as she returned to her eggs, while Snow Angel hovered over the kitchen table, licking her lips and eyeing Tricia's ass and breasts. "Could use some dairy though!" she amended. Tricia caught herself before saying "Help yourself," and pointed to the refrigerator. "Milk is in the fridge." She poked at her frying eggs. "So, what brings you to Casa De Lusion this morning?" The superhero swooped into the small kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and extracted the milk. "Day trip!" she exclaimed musically. "Where are your bowls and spoons?" Tricia pointed, and as Snow Angel fetched a bowl and spoon she explained. "Your roommate is taking me to the doctor's office today, so I thought it would be easier if I came by to pick her up than vice-versa." She floated out, brushing uncomfortably up against Tricia along the way, giving her shivers for more than one reason, and put the milk, bowl, and spoon on the kitchen table. "Oh wait!" She looked up into the air, concentrated, and recited from memory. "Our Awkwardly-Ambulatory Asian Anomaly shall be Attending And Accompanying me to the Attending Authority on Afflictions And Ailments." Tricia squinted and frowned at Snow Angel, but the superhero just grinned and blinked proudly at her achievement. "What was that?" she asked. "Alliteration. I'm trying it out." She picked up the sugar bowl and started spooning sugar into her bowl. "You like?" She shrugged. "Yeah. I guess. Why..." "Because I can't tell jokes, and I want to be funny." Snow Angel said, pouring milk on the sugar. Tricia still looked confused. "Seriously!" she said, cocking her head. "Jokes are stories that are not true, so I can't tell them. Watch! So a guy walks into a bar with a duck on his head." She winced in pain. "See? So I have to find other ways to be funny." She picked up the bowl of sugar and milk, and started beating it roughly with her spoon. "Here's another example," she said, gesturing with the spoon. "When I first saw you in that shirt, and by the way, LOVE the shirt! Gotta get one for myself ... I thought the funniest thing to say was 'Ugh! What an ugly shirt! Take it off, right now!'" Tricia half-smirked and returned to her eggs. Snow Angel continued. "But that would have been lying, so I can't say it. So I try other things." Tricia frowned. "But, you just did," she said bewildered. Snow Angel vigorously stirred her bowl. "Huh?" "You just said it. 'Ugh. What an ugly shirt. Take it off right now.' You said it." She nodded. "Yeah." "So you can say it." "I can say things like that parenthetically, but not directly. It's not a truth or lie-bearing statement like that; it's just an object then." She pointed the spoon, which was now covered in icy, sugary milk at Tricia. "I cannot say something like 'Tricia, I think you are an ugly old hag and for God's sake would you please not bury my face under your luscious bosom' because that would be a lie. See? But I can preface it with 'I'm not allowed to say this.' Then it's just an object." Tricia shrugged. "I see." Snow Angel grinned. "Good. Now I can say something like 'I'd like to rip that shirt off you, smear you down with butter, and start licking your... '" "You know, you're not supposed to hit on me." Tricia snapped at her. "You made me a promise." "And I'm not hitting on you. I'm all the way over here." She returned to her stirring, completely unfazed by Tricia's anger. "And I'm just making statements about logic and grammar. Making conversation!" She stopped stirring and leered at Tricia. "Do you have any butter?" she growled. Tricia's eyes went wide and she stared at the green girl. Snow Angel grinned and wiggled her eyebrows. "For what?" she asked impatiently. She shrugged. "I don't know. What do you use butter for?" Tricia paused. "Toast." "Butter is good on toast," Snow Angel declared. "Did you want some toast?" "No. Thank you!" And she returned to her stirring. Tricia shook her head in bafflement. "What was that all about?" She looked up from her bowl. "Trying to be FUNNY! Lighten up, will ya?" And she licked her spoon. "You look grumpy! And since I'm not allowed to give you howling, hair-ripping orgasms, I have to find some other way to cheer you up." Tricia considered her for a moment, and finally decided to take her advice, chuckling and smiling. Snow Angel beamed. "There you go! There's that gorgeous smile I missed so much!" "Thanks. I do feel grumpy." Tricia eyed Snow Angel's bowl. "What are you making there?" "Ice cream. You should flip your eggs." She started working on flipping the eggs. "Why are you eating ice cream for breakfast?" "Because it is not dinner time, silly!" She giggled and rolled her eyes. "Seriously! What were you thinking?" "But ice cream for..." "Listen kid. I am ninety-nine years old. I am a superhero, and a World War Two veteran. I am part of the Greatest Generation. So I am entitled to eat whatever the heck I want for breakfast." Tricia smiled and shrugged. "You'll get no argument from me on that." She poked at her eggs and fell into silence. "So why are you so grumpy this morning?" She sighed. "Can I ask you something?" "Sure!" "Annie told me you got your powers when you were seven, right?" Snow Angel nodded. "Was it hard, adjusting?" She popped a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth and sucked on it thoughtfully. "Well, I had some problems. Gave my mom and my sister frostbite a couple times, and it took me a while to figure out how to touch people without hurting them. The cat didn't want anything to do with me until summer." She grinned for a moment, and got serious. "Is your time-warping hurting people?" "No, but did you have any personality problems? Attitude issues?" "I was seven. Of course I did." She considered Tricia. "Are you?" She nodded. "Yeah. A few." Snow Angel held her spoon up and bounced it around, animating it like a little puppet while giving it a funny Jewish voice. "Oy! Well if you don't talk about it, it controls you! Shoym!" She dunked her spoon back into the ice cream. "Like what?" Tricia sighed. "Well, I can handle the hiccups and the time warps, but I'm worried that I'm hurting people. I've been ... selfish and unreasonable recently. The powers have been doing that to me, and I think I've been hurting others." She paused. "No, I know I've been hurting people." Snow Angel nodded. "And this bothers you?" She turned and gave her a peculiar look. "Yeah!" She nodded again. "Good." And she scooped up some more ice cream. "Good?" "Yeah. It's not good that you're hurting people, but it's good that it bothers you." She put her bowl down. "That's the central core of ethics. Listen Trish, whether you have powers or not, eventually you learn that you can hurt people, and when you hurt someone something occurs because of it. Sometimes it's something good, and sometimes it's bad. The best people are the ones who empathize with the people they hurt, and decide to change what they are doing so they don't hurt them anymore. But the worst people are those who just see the benefits they get from hurting others, and they just continue it. Now you're discovering that you have these new abilities, so if you're focusing on the empathy and not the personal benefits, that's good. It means you're a good person." Tricia sighed and nodded, and silently thought about it. Snow Angel cocked her head. "But you're still bothered about it," the sorceress observed. "I'm worried that it's interfering with my judgements," she finally said. "Any particular judgement?" She nodded, and turned the stove off. "Yeah. Joey." She turned to the superhero. "You heard what happened with him, right?" Snow Angel nodded. "Well, I've been rough on him this week. And I'm wondering if I've been too hard on him. I've been forcing him to work hard labor while he's still recuperating, and I'm not letting him touch either one of us." "Are you enjoying this?" Tricia glared at her. "No! It sucks." "Good!" Snow Angel shrugged. "If you're being rough on him and you're enjoying it, that's abuse. But if you think you're doing him some good, that's parenting." "So you think I'm doing the right thing?" "I didn't say that." Snow Angel shrugged. Tricia stared at the superhero in bewilderment and then rolled her eyes. "Fat lot of good you are!" Snow Angel smiled. "Sorry. But I can't tell you if you're doing the right thing or not. That's really up to Joey." She thought about it. "I wish I could help you more, but I've never been a mom." She pondered for a bit. "I once was a super-powered kid, so I can give you some insight on that. Like when I was little, I thought it was fun to throw snowballs at my little sister any time of the year, or make the sidewalk freeze under her. I tormented her a lot, really rubbed it in her face, that I was chosen for something great and she wasn't, but my mom made it very clear to me that that was not acceptable behavior." Snow Angel paused, and Tricia could watch the guilt pass over her young face as she traversed her memories. "She said to me 'I will not have my daughter belittled like that, ' and it really hit me, because, the way she said it, it sounded like she was excluding me. I mean, I was her daughter too. And I saw it as this threat, that she might disown me or something. And I know now she wasn't threatening me with disowning me, but she was just reminding me that my sister was her daughter as well, and tormenting her meant tormenting my mother, and she deserved just as much respect as anyone else." She paused, and Tricia watched Snow Angel's face, seeing the look of guilt turn into sadness. The superhero then blinked and plastered on a smile. "So, yeah," she continued. "When I was a kid, it took me a while to figure out that powers were a responsibility and how easy it was to torment people. And the best thing my mom did for me was to let me know that I was disappointing her. So if you're making Joey understand that you're disappointed in him, I think that's the right thing to do." She cocked her head at Tricia. "So do you think Joey is getting this message?" The yelling, the arguing, the complaining, the silences, they all flashed in Tricia's mind. "Yeah," she nodded. Her face scrunched up in pain and she held herself. "But it hurts." "That message is supposed to hurt. Do you need a hug?" Tricia nodded pitifully. Snow Angel drifted off the table and floated into the kitchen, arms wide and inviting, and Tricia walked into them. The two embraced, and even though the superhero's body was freezing cold, it was still comforting. Tricia buried her face into her shoulder and teared up as Snow Angel caressed and soothed her. "It's okay," she whispered, and Tricia felt a delicious coolness enter her body through the sorceress' hands and body. A loving, healing energy filled her, not unlike the way Joey's energy would enter her. Muscles of which she was unaware of their tension relaxed, her breathing calmed, and her sinuses actually opened a bit. She wrapped her arms around the young girl and hugged her tightly. "This is hard," Tricia whined into Snow Angel's shoulder. "I hope it gets better," she replied. She snuggled into the girl, feeling the strong muscles in her small frame, and her soft breasts pushing into her own. She could see down her curvy ass to the girl's feet which dangled over the floor, and a light white mist which drifted from her body. The comforting chill washed through her own body, not unlike a physical sensation of mint, neither causing shivers nor stress, but a brisk crispness which relaxed and strengthened her spirit. She smiled. "You feel good," she whispered. Snow Angel grinned slightly and nuzzled into her neck. "So do you." "How do you make cold feel so good?" "I'm healing you." "Oh," she chuckled. "That makes sense." Snow Angel pulled her head back and looked Tricia in the eyes. The superhero's eyes sparkled, and she smiled mischievously at her. "You feel really good." "Uh-oh." Something about the way she was looking at her made Tricia feel a little odd at this point, and the way the superhero was bobbing slightly in mid-air, rubbing her tight body up and down against her own, didn't help matters. Tricia dropped her smile. "Snow," she started. "Shh-shh-shh..." She shushed her, touching a cold finger to Tricia's lips. "Can we just..." "I'm really not..." "Do me a favor, please?" she whispered. "What?" "Say 'yes'," the superhero said, and she leaned in ever so slightly, bringing her lips closer to her own. Tricia pulled back. "No." "Just one little..." "I said 'No.' I don't feel comfor..." WHOOSH-CRASH! Tricia shrieked as Snow Angel was suddenly, violently ejected away from her and slammed into the kitchen table, as if thrown back by an unseen force. The superhero doubled over in pain as her dishes and the milk were knocked to the floor, clattering loudly. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" she moaned, clutching her stomach. "Please forgive me!" Milk poured onto the floor. Tricia stood in an absolute terror, startled by the sudden motion, and watched the young girl as she sank onto the dining room floor while curled up in a fetal position. "What is it?" she asked, rushing to her. "Are you okay?" The superhero squirmed and rolled in agony, and clawed at her stomach in pain. Her face twisted in torture. "I'm sorry! Forgive me, please!" she moaned. "What's the matter?" Tricia asked desperately. Snow Angel grabbed her arm and squeezed tightly and painfully. She turned her eyes to her and pleaded intensely. "FORGIVE ME!" she cried. Tricia, still stunned, watched the girl as she writhed and shook in torment, and it took her a moment to realize what was happening. "I ... I forgive you," she said quickly. The moment she said that, Snow Angel went limp. She collapsed her muscles and lay on the floor, panting and crying. Tricia carefully reached out to her, touching her arm. "Are you okay?" "I'll ... I'll be okay. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have..." she whispered. "What happened?" Tricia asked. "ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?" Annie called from her bathroom. Snow Angel snapped her head up in a panic, and she rolled to look at Tricia. She grabbed her hand and gave her another pleading look. "Please! Don't tell her," she begged. Tricia blinked in bafflement. "What? Why?" "Tell her everything is okay. Please," she implored. "She worries about me enough already." "WHAT HAPPENED?" Annie yelled out. They could hear the bathroom door open. "Please!" Snow Angel begged quietly, sitting up. "I can't say it." Tricia hesitated. "I um ... I JUST DROPPED SOME DISHES. THAT'S ALL," she called out. "Thank you!" Snow Angel whispered, and she quickly rose from the floor and hastily recomposed herself, rubbing her face, shaking out her hair and limbs, smoothing her costume out, and then swooped into the living room. Tricia watched in bewilderment as the superhero spun around the floating green crystal, caressing it and whispering to it. "Clean up the dining room," she instructed it, and then took position in the middle of the living room with a fresh smile on her face just as Annie rolled in. "Well did anything break? I heard a ... Emily?" "Good morning, sunshine!" Snow Angel sang out cheerfully. Tricia watched the immediate change in temperament in complete bafflement as the superhero pirouetted in mid-air, showing off to her roommate. "What are you doing here?" Annie asked. Snow Angel swooped over and took Annie by the hands, spinning around her, forcing the chair to roll in circles. "I thought I would come by and pick you up. Save you all of that driving. Oh! Do you want to do lunch afterward? I know this great barbeque place in Opal. Hole-in-the-wall truck stop, but damn good food!" "Um ... okay. Where is that?" "Ummmm ... I just follow 29 west for about fifty miles. Fifteen minutes tops!" Tricia, still kneeling in the kitchen and watching in puzzlement, finally realized that Snow Angel had turned Annie around in order to distract her, giving Tricia a chance to clean up the mess on the dining room floor. As she reached towards the fallen bowl and spoon, she saw the spilled milk sparkling and evaporating. She watched it for a second in fascination, and then picked up the milk bottle and dishes. Annie yanked her hands away. "Fifty miles in fifteen minutes? Voos far a meshigas iz doos? No! What kind of goylem mit a kerever do you think I am to drive two hundred miles an hour just for lunch?" The sorceress giggled delightfully, sending a cascade of snowflakes to scatter off her body. "You know, I have no idea what you just said, but it sounds so fun! And no, silly! You don't have to drive. I would fly us there!" "What. You plan to fly both me AND my chair to this greasy spoon?" Snow Angel planted one finger on her lips and gave it some serious thought. "Hmm. That WOULD look pretty weird. And it would be kind of awkward." She took Annie by the hand again. "Oh well. We could just leave your chair here and I can..." "OH NO-NO-NO-NO-no! Bad superhero! Bad!" And she slapped Snow Angel's hand. "The chair stays with me! This is my mobility and my independence. What? You thought we were just going to fly to the doctor's office today?" The superhero blinked in surprise. "Um, yeah!" "No. I'm driving you. We do this civilian style." Annie pointed at Snow Angel's costume. "So you go home and you change out of your work clothes and into something normal. And do whatever that thing is you do to turn your hue knob down." "What?" Snow Angel asked Annie. "You don't like the green skin?" "I like it just fine. But it makes you look like an exotic dancer at a Star Trek convention. Now go home and change. I'll pick you up." "I don't have to go home to change," Snow Angel declared huffily. "I can do that here. Thppt!" "Fine. But if you're going to borrow one of Tricia's T-shirts, don't get one with the dirty jokes on it. As much as I would like to finally read one of those shirts without having to see it from three different angles first, I think it would be best if you try to blend in and not draw too much attention to yourself." Snow Angel pondered this seriously. "You know, this is not exactly how I wanted to get into her clothes, but if you insist..." She swooped towards the dining room. "Tricia?" she asked sweetly, raising her hands and flexing her fingers. "Can I borrow that shirt?" Tricia was putting two plates of eggs on the table. "No," she declared. "Can't you just make clothes with magic?" The superhero grumbled. "Yeah," she muttered, and she spun around. "You know," she said to Annie, "she has been SO grumpy this morning! Do you have a full-length mirror somewhere?" Annie rolled to her desk to pick up some forms. She gestured vaguely. "Bedroom." As Snow Angel floated off, Annie glanced at the papers and frowned. "Oh, Emily?" she called out. "Yes?" Annie turned to Snow Angel with a curious look on her face. "What is your last name?" The superhero grinned. "Det er en hemmelightet!" Annie scrunched up her face. "What?" Snow Angel swooped up to Annie. "See? You're not the only one who can confuse people with other languages!" And she playfully poked Annie in the nose. "Beep!" Annie sat confused for a moment, watching the superhero as she swooped into the bedroom, then shook her head and rolled into the dining room. "She's weird," she declared. "She's your friend," Tricia observed, sitting down next to her. "So. Grumpy?" Annie asked, digging into her eggs. Tricia thought about it and nodded, poking at her eggs. "Yeah. Just thinking a lot. About my actions, and if I'm being too..." VRRAAMM! THERE! Tricia and Annie startled, and looked around to see Quantum Knight and Joey appear on the balcony. The two were in mid-conversation as they walked inside. The dog came running in, barking happily and making a bee-line towards Joey. "I'm telling you," Quantum Knight said. "I had plenty of stuff to choose from. Cereal, eggs, oatmeal, english muffins ... Why were you eating the cat food?" "'Cause it's good," Joey said, scooping up his dog. "How are you doing, bud?" he asked the dog. Scrappy frantically wagged his tail and licked Joey's face. "Cat food is just food. It's fine. Cat's live off it. I don't see why we can't." Tricia gave Joey a critical look. "Joey! Were you eating cat food?" He looked at her and sneered. "Oh, come on! Don't YOU get all on my case about it too!" He held a bandaged hand up to her. "I didn't feel like cooking!" And he started to storm off. "JUST a minute, young man!" Tricia called out. "Get back here." Joey slumped back towards the dining room. Annie peeked around and caught his eye for a brief second, and turned back to her eggs, hiding her face from him. "What?" he asked. Tricia nodded to Quantum Knight. "How was he?" "Perfectly fine," the superhero admitted. "Very well behaved." She leaned against the wall. "Absolutely the least amount of trouble I had to deal with last night." Annie bit her lip, repressing a smile, but said nothing. Tricia simply took a deep breath and turned back to Joey. "Good. Glad to hear it. Now you. Go get ready for work." Joey slumped and scoffed. She continued. "You've got nearly sixty hours to work off. You put in extra time this weekend, and you can finish before the end of next week." He grumbled, and Tricia shooed him off. "Now go shower and change." As he stomped off, Tricia shook her head. "Cat food? Why were you letting him eat cat food?" she asked Quantum Knight. "Don't look at me." the superhero said. "He and the cat were eating it when I got home. They were bonding." "Actually," Annie interjected. "Cat food isn't really that bad for you. It's just meat-by-products. It's only cultural reasons why we don't..." "WHOAH!" Joey yelled from his bedroom. Quantum Knight and Tricia immediately leaped up and ran to the bedroom, while Annie spun her chair around. "WHAT IS IT?" she cried out in panic. The two other women skidded to a halt in the doorway, looked inside, and cursed. "¡Dios mio!" "Oh, bosons!" Joey stood in his room bathed in a brilliant arcane light shining from a very nude Snow Angel. She hovered in the room before the full-length mirror, her skin shifting in colors between white and light yellow, and she was surrounded by floating glyphs and inscribed circles. She had turned around and was giving Joey a welcoming smile. "So! I would really like a man's opinion on something," she said unashamedly just as Annie rolled to a stop, looked in, and gasped. "Do you think this color makes my nipples look too dark?" Joey stared slack-jawed at the floating naked girl for a full five seconds, then turned around and gave the other women a sheepish grin. "For me?" he asked. ------- Chapter 13: Confessions and Medical Supplies Hands hurt. Arms hurt. Knuckles raw. Enough. Joey sat slumped on the floor of the small utility room staring at his sloppily wound bandages. The loose bindings of gauze kept slipping off, exposing raw and tender flesh to the air. Flexing his fingers hurt, and holding anything was agony. Even trying to fix his own bandages hurt, so he was reduced to just staring at them drooping from his hands, and he ground his teeth in frustration. Just what the hell does she want? The unopened first aid kit lay on the floor where it landed after he had managed to nudge it off the shelf, right next to the cursed scrub brush and bucket. He stared at the brush and fumed, noting the blood stains on the handle. His blood. He was just counting the minutes. Joey had decided enough was enough. No more. No more scrubbing, and no more pain. He had gone on strike, and had already been discovered not doing his job by another shelter worker. They all had their instructions to tell her, so it was only a matter of time before she found out. The door opened. He looked up and saw Tricia in the doorway looking critical. "Get back to work," she barked. "No." "I said get back to..." "I'm not doing this anymore," Joey declared. "If you don't pick up that brush and get back to work right now, I won't sign off these hours." "Fine. I'll just go somewhere else!" "No. You're staying here where I can keep an eye on you." He grumbled under his breath. Tricia took a step into the utility room. "You got something to say to me?" she challenged. "No," he muttered. "If you've got something to say, say it." Enough is enough, he decided. Time to say something. He jumped up and kicked the brush and bucket, startling Tricia and sending them scattering across the floor. "What is it you want?" Joey yelled at her. "We made a deal! Remember? We made a promise to each other! You're good for me, and I'm good for you. We're family! But what is this?" He held his raw hands out to her. "How is this good? I'm in pain! I don't want to do this anymore because it hurts! And I can't figure out why you think this is right. This isn't punishment. This is torture!" Tricia stood in an awkward silence, watching him. Her face went blank. Joey couldn't tell what it was she was feeling. Impatience? Guilt? He decided it was guilt, and he pressed on. "Snow Angel was right there, in my room. And I know what everyone thought I wanted with her, but you all were wrong. All I could think about was the fact that she could heal me. She could fix my hands, but you didn't let her. You want me in pain. Now how is that good, huh? How is that part of our deal?" She dropped her gaze to the floor, and Joey saw her sway ever so slightly. She remained silent. I'm getting to her, he realized. I'm getting through to her. And he continued. "Okay! I understand. You're pissed off at me for torturing those jerks. I get that! And you told me that torture is wrong. But you're torturing me for torturing them! So how is that right? Huh? What exactly do you think you are teaching me? You're just as bad as I am." Tricia gave a barely noticeable shudder, and she gulped some air. Then her eyes rose back to his, and she stared him down with a penetrating gaze of determination. Very quietly, she whispered. "Go on." Joey blinked. It wasn't the reaction he was expecting, or one that he understood. She's not feeling guilty, he realized. She looked almost triumphant. He thought about what he just said, and chills ran through his spine. He had just confessed, and he understood. "I mean..." He flustered. "I get it. I understand. I shouldn't have tortured them." The confession hurt, but now that it was out he realized it was what he needed. "It was wrong. I got angry, and I lost control. They were torturing us, and I wanted it to stop." Tears gathered in his eyes, and his voice broke. "I wanted them dead and beaten. I was tired of them. I was tired of them picking on me all the time, and I lost it." "Go on," she encouraged. Joey shook in his shoes. He was still looking for something to keep his anger alive. "I ... I was wrong. I was the one that broke the deal first. And I can see that hurt you." He found it, and the anger flared in him once more. "But that doesn't excuse you!" he yelled. "They hurt me, I hurt them back, and that was wrong. I hurt you, you hurt me back, that's still wrong. So what is it you're trying to do? What do you want?" He was crying now, and Tricia stood silently for a moment, watching, and thinking. She started walking closer to him and spoke in a low, controlled voice. "I have been waiting all week for you to call me on this. But let's get something straight. There is a big difference between what I'm doing, and what you did." She bent down and pushed her face right into his. Joey stumbled back in terror and she glared at him. "I. Never. Touched. You." She let that sink in. "All of that pain you are going through right now, you did to yourself." She held the glare for another second, and then pulled away. Joey realized he was holding his breath, and started breathing again. Tricia picked up the first aid kit from the floor, put it on the shelf, opened it, and firmly took his wrists, leading him towards the kit. Joey watched dumbfounded as she unwrapped the loose bandages on his hands. "I need to know something," she said almost conversationally as she removed his old bandages for the first time. "And I want you to be honest with me. In all this time, when you were angry with me, did you ever want to hurt me?" He hesitated, unsure what to say as she exposed the raw flesh of his wounded hands. Some of those wounds came from him hitting Sandy's punching bag while he was imagining punching Tricia out. "I'll be honest with you," she continued. "There were times this week I got so frustrated with you that I just wanted to smack you. Hit you, try to knock some sense into you. But I didn't. So tell me, and be honest. Did you want to hit me?" Joey swallowed nervously and nodded. "Yeah," he admitted. She took out some alcohol wipes, antibiotics, and fresh gauze, and gently cleaned his hands. The alcohol stung, but her touch was gentle. "I'm not surprised," she said. "Pain does that to us. We get hurt, and we want to hurt right back. That's the way it always works. And when we hurt someone back, we always hope they get the message to stop hurting us. But that part never works. And you would think we could figure that out, but so often we don't." She had finished cleaning and applying ointment to his hands, and started wrapping fresh gauze tightly around his hands. "So I want you to tell me something. I want you to think about those three boys you hurt. What do you think they are thinking about you right now? Hmm?" She continued wrapping. "You think they are terrified of you? You think they are frightened into submission, or do you think they are planning their revenge?" Joey swallowed and nodded. "They're probably pissed at me." Tricia nodded with him. "Justifiably. And they are waiting for you. They know they are going to see you again on Monday, and that scares the life out of me." Her voice almost broke as she said that. "I won't be there, and I won't be able to protect you." She looked up from her task, and he could see her eyes tearing. "They will have had all of this week to prepare themselves, to boost their anger and courage just to take it out on you. I know this, and the school knows this, and the school may take extra precautions to protect you for a while, and those boys know this, so they may just wait until Wednesday, Friday, next week, or next month to try to hurt you. And this terrifies me." Joey thought about them, and shuddered. "But what those boys are not prepared for," she continued. " ... is you apologizing to them." He tried to imagine himself apologizing to them, and shook his head. "I don't think that would work. They are still going to be angry with me." "Maybe. But it worked with you." He frowned and squinted. "Huh?" She fastened one bandage tightly and started working on the other. "Remember the first night we met? You were pretty pissed at me, and I apologized to you. Were you still angry after that?" Joey thought back. He remembered that night, remembered seeing Tricia for the first time, looking stunning and gorgeous on the street while asking people about his father. He remembered the video montage from her report with all the jokes about him, and how angry he got at her. And she did apologize to him. He swallowed again and shook his head. "No. I wasn't," he answered. "But these guys, they're not like me. I don't think they'll change if I apologize." "You don't know that." "No, you don't know these guys. They..." "Sweetheart." Joey stopped. "You may be right," Tricia conceded. "It may be that they won't change their minds if you apologize to them. But one thing I do know is that they definitely won't change if you don't." She wrapped the last bandage tightly around his hand. "So if you ever want them to be respectful to you, your only option is to be nice to them, because pain and fear will not work." She sighed. "Being nice to people is not always easy, and it never comes with a guarantee that they will be nice back to you, which if you think about it, makes that the ultimate act of courage." He squinted in confusion, and Tricia smiled at him for the first time in days. "Think about it. If you are an asshole to someone, they'll be an asshole right back to you. It's very predictable. But if you're nice, you really have no idea how they will react. So which takes more courage? Walking into a fight that you know is coming, or walking into a situation where you have no idea what will happen?" Joey thought about this for a long time. Tears filled his eyes. "I'm sorry," he finally said. "Don't just tell me that. Tell them that too." He shifted, blinked away his tears, and looked at her expectantly, wanting a hug. Tricia smiled in recognition, and she held her arms open for him. "Come here." He fell into her arms and started sobbing the moment he touched her, and Tricia held him tight and rocked him. "It's okay," she soothed. "I'm sorry," he said, crying into her chest and holding her tightly. "Me too," she said, holding him and caressing his back. They held each other for a long time, with Joey crying and sniffing, and Tricia comforting him, stroking his hair and rubbing his back. Her warmth and softness, and the fullness of her breasts eventually started to have their predicable effect, and Joey started nuzzling his face into her bosom. "Okay, that's enough," Tricia said, gently extracting him. Joey dejectedly stepped back and wiped his eyes, and watched her as she straightened her blouse over her luscious chest. He licked his lips. "Um ... Can we go home?" he asked carefully. She gave him a smirk. "I'd love to, but you're still grounded, and you still have hours of obligation left. We should get back to work." He sighed and glanced at the scrub brush and bucket, and Tricia shook her head. "No. You don't have to do that anymore. We'll find you something easy to do." They stepped out of the utility room and she put her arm around his shoulder. He leaned into her, and they walked down the short hallway together. "Thanks," he said. He thought and frowned, and looked at his bandaged hands. "I don't know what to do." "Actually, I have an idea. An easy job you would like," she said, giving him a squeeze. "Do you know how to operate a camera?" ------- "Ppphpphhphhphhhhphh..." "Would you stop making that noise?" "I'm bored." "Count the cars, then." "I hate traffic. If you would have let me fly us there, we would have been there by now." "We're almost there. Just be patient. It takes at least half an hour to get anywhere in this city." "Why can't we fly? I thought you liked flying." "I do. But I like it when I'm the one doing the flying." They were in Annie's van. Annie was driving, and Emily rode in the front passenger seat, fidgeting and tugging uncomfortably on her seat belt. She was no longer green, but disguised in a spell that rendered her as a fair-skinned white blond. She played with the power window again, lowering the window and sticking her head out. "Will you stop that?" "I like having the wind in my hair when I travel!" "Preaching to the choir, shvester. But when I'm driving, I'm responsible." She glanced over at her passenger. "Think of this as a Disney ride. Keep your hands, feet, and head inside the car at all times." Emily grumbled and sat back. "I'm not allowed at Disney Land anymore." Annie gave her a quizzical look. Emily shrugged. "I was playing Tinkerbell one year," she explained. "I swear. One kid catches you sucking off Peter Pan, and they go nuts." She sighed. "Are we there yet?" "You know, if you ever go on chemotherapy, you're going to want someone to drive you." She pondered it, and agreed, nodding. "I guess so. Thanks." "You're welcome." Annie glanced at her shorts and T-shirt again and grunted in frustration. "What?" Asked Emily. "Of all the things you could have worn, why that?" "I like it!" "I thought you were going to make some clothes?" "I made the shoes! See?" She kicked her feet up, displaying her simple crystal-white slip-on flats. "Tricia's are too big for me. It just takes a lot of time to do a whole outfit, so I just borrowed the rest." "But I thought you could just, like, snap your fingers and make dresses." "I can do that at home," she explained. "That's where I've laid those foundation spells. I just didn't bring them with me." Annie glanced at Emily again, giving her a critical glare. "Emily, you do realize the whole point of the skin change and the civilian clothes is to hide the fact that you are Snow Angel." She nodded. "Yeah, I know." She gave her another critical look. "You're wearing a Snow Angel T-shirt!" "Don't you just love it?" she giggled. "You're supposed to be blending in! Hiding!" "And I am!" she exclaimed. "Who would expect Snow Angel to wear a Snow Angel T-shirt?" Annie rolled her eyes. "Didn't Tricia have anything else?" "Yeah, she did." She wadded up the front of her shirt, pulled it up to her face, and inhaled deeply, relishing the scent. "But I like this one. It smells like her." Annie squinted, frowned, thought about it for a moment, and stared at Emily again. "Emily?" "Yeah?" "Did you go through her dirty laundry to get that?" She grinned and giggled mischievously. "Oy, vey!" They soon pulled into the parking lot, and Annie slipped the van into a front handicapped spot. As soon as she parked and shut off the engine, Emily eagerly unhooked her seat belt, threw the door open, jumped out, and slammed it shut. "About time!" she moaned. "So Annie, which..." She looked around. "Annie?" Annie was still inside the van, shifting out of the driver's chair and into her wheelchair. Emily propped her arms inside the passenger window and peered back inside, watching her as she awkwardly shifted from one chair to the other. "Oh. Sorry. Do you need any help?" "No, I got it." Emily frowned. "Why do you have a driver's seat? Wouldn't it be easier to just take that seat out?" "I could, but I'd still have to secure my wheelchair to this spot. It's not like a seat belt will hold me down if my wheelchair rolls around," Annie explained. "And besides, sometimes Trish drives. Put your feet on the ground." Emily scowled and dropped a foot, her body jolting as her heels finally hit the pavement. Annie extended the automatic ramp, rolled down, and used her car remote to retract the ramp while Emily stood by fidgeting impatiently. The superhero pulled a mirror out of her small purse and checked her face. "I need more blush. I look sickly." "You're going to the doctor," Annie reminded her. "You're supposed to look sick. Stop worrying about it." With the van closed and locked, Annie turned her chair towards the professional building. "Come on!" And together, they went into the office. The front waiting area was mostly empty, occupied only by a young woman and her infant. The walls were covered in drug advertisements and a couple of tasteful landscapes. An aquarium bubbled in one corner next to a pile of toys and a table full of magazines. Emily smiled and waved at the baby while Annie rolled up to the front counter. "Oy!" she called out to the receptionist, waving her hand up high to catch her attention. "Down here!" The receptionist poked her head over the counter and saw Annie. "Oh! Hello?" "I have a new patient for you." She nodded at Emily, who was currently squinting and frowning as she tried to read a drug advertisement on the wall, her lips moving quietly as she sounded out the name of the drug. The receptionist handed Annie the sign-in sheet and a clipboard. "Sign in, and fill out these forms." "Here," Annie said as she poked Emily in the stomach with the clipboard. "Sign in!" As Emily took the clipboard, Annie rolled next to a chair and started looking through the new patient information forms. Emily grimaced at the sign-in sheet and groaned in disgust. "Do I have to fill out paperwork?" she whined. "It's just a sign-in sheet. I'll help you with the rest." She stared at the sign-in sheet again, frowned, sighed, and plopped in the chair next to Annie. "Hate paperwork," she muttered. She shifted and got comfortable in the chair, sitting cross-legged, took the attached pen, and started writing. "Urmff..."she grunted after writing a single letter. "Uhrr..." "Ehrr..." Annie glanced up and saw Emily biting her lip, scowling, and grunting as she wrote. "Would you just write your name down?" Emily let out a breath of stress and flexed her fingers. "I'm working here." She managed to scrawl another letter, grunt once more, and flexed her fingers again. "Oh, give me that!" Annie said, pulling the sign-in sheet from her. "Honestly, you're like a child sometimes. Why can't you just..." But she stopped as she saw what Emily had written on the sign-in sheet so far. A-L-I-C. She frowned and glanced at Emily. "What is this?" The woman with the baby looked up at them in interest. Emily pulled a driver's licence out of her purse. "Here. Can you do it? My fingers hurt." Annie read the driver's licence. The name on it read 'Alice Springs'. She cocked her head and looked at Emily questioningly. "Why does it..." Emily glared at her, and nodded ever so slightly towards the woman with the baby. "Oh," she said, figuring out that 'Alice Springs' was a false identity, which made it a lie, which would make it difficult for Snow Angel to write. "Why don't I fill that out for you?" "Thank you!" she sing-songed, and eagerly gave Annie the sign-in sheet and picked up a magazine. "No, you fill out this one," she said, handing her the new patient form. She grumbled again. "I can't fill this out." "Do what you can," Annie said, quickly writing down 'Alice Springs' on the sign-in sheet and turning it in. Emily shifted in her seat and looked through the new patient forms, scanning the entries for things she could enter without lying. "Name ... address ... social security number ... date of birth ... employer ... Maritial status!" She broke into a huge grin on finding something she could fill in. "Single! ... Sex! ... Do I circle who I have sex with or..." "Circle 'Female'," Annie chided. Under her breath, she added "Not enough ink in that pen to circle everything you have sex with." Emily giggled delightfully and kicked her feet up into the chair next to her. She continued with the form. "Drug allergies ... none. Email address ... lots." She wrote down one for Alice Springs. She skipped a few more identifying parents and spouse. "Do I have a living will?" she read, and cocked an eyebrow at Annie. "What's a living will?" "If you have to ask, you don't have one." "Is that a regular will that was raised from the dead? ... No." She wrote down, and continued. "Do I use illegal drugs?" She looked back up at Annie with a worried look on her face. "If so, explain," she recited. They stared at each other for a moment, and then noticed the young mother still watching them with interest. "Tell the truth," Annie advised. Emily groaned as she returned to the paperwork. "I'm going to need more paper." Annie took one of the other forms, flipped it over, and handed it to her. "Here. I'll take that. You write your confession." "Maybe I should..." "You should be like Snow Angel," said the woman with the baby. "Tell the truth." They both looked up at her surprised. "Excuse me? What?" Emily asked. "Your T-shirt. You're a fan of hers, aren't you?" Emily chewed on her lip, thinking, and cocked her head. "I wouldn't say THAT," she stressed. "I would," Annie said. "She's a fan." "No," Emily shook her head. "This just isn't my shirt." "You should always tell the truth. Always," said the woman. "Be like Snow Angel. She always tells the truth." Emily pondered this, opened her mouth to speak, paused, closed it, opened it again, closed it again, and basically made three false starts to speak while Annie watched with a growing nervousness. Finally she shrugged and said "Okay!" and started writing. Annie grinned, and turned to the young woman. "How about you? Are you a fan of Snow Angel too?" Emily gave Annie a questioning stare as the woman shifted her baby on her lap. "Oh yes!" she exclaimed. "Huge fan! She is the reason I have a family now. You know, if it weren't for Snow Angel, I would have lost my husband, and I certainly wouldn't have this little guy in my life." And she bounced her baby on her knee. The baby gurgled and stared at Emily. "Really?" said Annie. She gave Emily a quick glance and asked the woman "What happened? The woman smiled as she recollected. "My husband and I, we disagreed about kids. I wanted them, but he didn't. We used to fight about it constantly." Her smile fell. "But then a year and a half ago he was in this horrible car accident. His car went off a bridge, and fell into the Potomac." Annie gasped. "Oh, no!" Emily frowned and thought back, remembering. The woman smiled again. "But she saved him. She rescued him." "Oh, I remember that!" Emily exclaimed. Then she clapped one hand over her mouth in embarrassment. Annie shrugged and nodded towards Emily. "Told you she was a fan," she told the woman. "Go on. What happened next?" "Well, when I got the call and found him in the hospital, I was terrified, you know? But when I saw him, he was a changed man. The first thing he said to me was 'I want us to have kids.' It was like, he was trapped in this car sinking into the river, facing death, and all he could think about was me and the fact that we never had kids." She shuddered slightly. "Facing death will change a person," Annie said. The woman nodded, and cradled her baby. "It did," she agreed. "We went straight home to try. Nine months and half an hour later, we had Danny here." As the three women giggled over that, Doctor Patina Booth came in. She waved at Annie in recognition, and turned to the young mother. "Mrs. Hanson?" The woman picked up her purse, baby, and baby-support-bag. "Good luck with your confessions," she said to Emily, and she followed the doctor out of the waiting room. Annie watched her leave, and turned to Emily. "Well, how about that?" Emily smiled and shrugged, still writing. "I get that a lot," she whispered. Annie returned to Emily's medical forms, filling out the false identification. She giggled to herself. "I told you so," she said with a smirk. Emily gave her a quizzical frown. "What?" "It takes half an hour to get anywhere in this city." "Huh?" ------- "You have to understand that I have a policy in this office," said Doctor Patina Booth as she walked into the examination room reading Emily's file. "If a patient knowingly has a condition which, when not revealed to me, tends to break my equipment ... that patient is liable for the cost of replacement." "Sorry," Emily said with an embarrassed grimace. She was sitting on the examination table, swinging her legs. "Did I break your thermometer?" Doctor Booth fitted a new ear-condom onto the thermometer, placed it in her own ear, and checked the results. "I don't know," she finally admitted. "I think you maybe just stunned it." "Oopsie." Doctor Booth set the thermometer aside and took Emily's hand, and frowned as she touched the chilled skin. "You are very cold," she said. "Far colder than what a dead person would be. They only reach room temperature. This is refrigeration-cold. Is there something you want to tell me?" Emily gave Annie a worried glance, and Annie nodded to her. "Go ahead," she encouraged. Emily sighed and reluctantly waved her hand, dismissing the glamour. Her skin faded to her normal green. The doctor's eyes went wide with surprise as the superhero revealed herself. "Ta-dahh!" she said meekly. Doctor Booth blinked in shock for a moment. "Oh!" she finally said. "I um..." she faltered. "Just one moment please. I will be right back." And she abruptly ran out of the room, leaving Snow Angel and Annie behind, staring at the door. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," Snow Angel said. "If she's off blabbing about me using the name Alice Springs, I'll have to get a new alias. That's always a pain to set up." Annie shook her head. "No, no. She can be trusted. Give her a chance." "I'll have to go to New York ... Get my picture taken again ... New fake driver's licence ... Birth certificate ... Passport..." She groaned. "It's expensive." Doctor Booth returned with a small book. She closed the door behind her, and presented the book to Emily. "Could you sign this, please?" she asked, pulling out a pen and handing it to her. "Aww ... More paperwork?" Snow Angel whined. Annie spoke up. "Doc, she has some trouble with the paperwork. Maybe I can..." "It's for my daughter," Doctor Booth explained. "She's a huge fan." Snow Angel blinked as she opened the book and saw the various signatures in it. "OH! Autographs! Oh, I see. I can do that!" She giggled, kicked her legs cheerfully, and clicked open the pen. "What's her name?" "Willow. Willow Booth." "Hey ... Willow ... Sorry ... I ... missed ... you ... Snow Angel!" Doctor Booth beamed. "Thank you! She will be so happy. You know, she's a spell caster too!" Her eyes brightened. "Really! Wow!" She continued writing. "Call ... me ... We'll ... do ... mixed ... sigils ... and ... lunch!" And then she wrote down her phone number. "What's her knack and binding?" "No knacks," Doctor Booth explained. "At least not yet. She's a pure spellcaster. And she can't have meat. Also she has to keep her room clean, but she blames me for that." The superhero giggled and handed the book back to the doctor while Annie frowned. "What is a knack and binding?" she asked. "A knack is a magical ability that you don't need to cast spells for," Snow Angel explained. "Like mine are healing, ice, and flying. I can do those without casting spells, but anything else needs a spell. Bindings are arbitrary rules that the magic imposes on you for its own reasons. Like I'm not allowed to lie, and I have to keep my promises." "Oh," Annie nodded, understanding. "Bindings can be very severe," Doctor Booth added. "I know a woman who's binding prevents her from speaking to men." "Oh, the poor dear," Annie said. "She must be lonely." Doctor Booth thought about it. "Oddly, no. Actually, she's quite popular with the men." She shrugged and turned to Snow Angel. "So, what brings you here today?" "Leukemia!" Snow Angel answered brightly. Doctor Booth stared slack-jawed. "Please tell me you have a pill, or a shot or something simple. I want to get this wrapped up before lunch-time." "Leukemia?" "Yeah. It's a bitch," she said, swinging her legs. "What makes you think you have leukemia?" She shrugged. "Well, that's what I was told." "And who told you that?" Snow Angel thought back. "Doctor ... what was his name..." She shook her head. "Sorry. Don't remember. It's been a long time." Doctor Booth looked skeptical. "How long?" she asked. She scrunched up her face. "Ninety ... two ... or three years?" She digested this. "I see ... And I assume your healing ability has been countering this all this time?" Snow Angel nodded. Doctor Booth thought about it. "Well, my first thought is, if your abilities have kept you alive with leukemia longer than an average human lifespan, why do anything at all? Are you experiencing any new symptoms?" Snow Angel shook her head. "Except for turning greener all the time, no. I just want to..." She didn't finish that sentence. "I'd like to know what all is going on, and what can be done," she finally settled on. The doctor sat on a stool and pondered some more. "Okay," she finally said. "First of all, I am a general practitioner, so I may have to eventually refer you to an oncologist. A trustworthy one, but that's not a problem. But first, I'd like to give you a complete physical examination and retest you, just to confirm the diagnosis of leukemia. I would like to see precisely what we are dealing with. And no offence to your previous doctor, but that diagnosis was made over ninety years ago. He may have been mistaken." Snow Angel considered this for the first time in her life. "Oh..." "But in my experiences treating the magically gifted, I know I am actually dealing with two patients. Your eidolon is male, right?" Snow Angel shook her head. "Female," she said proudly. "Odd. Normally it's opposite," said Doctor Booth. Annie frowned. "Ido-what?" she asked in confusion. "Eidolon," Doctor Booth explained. "The magical spirit bonded to her that gives her powers. So." She took Snow Angel's hand. "I take it your real name isn't Alice?" Snow Angel shook her head. "No. Emily." Doctor Booth nodded. "Okay, Emily. And I know better to ask for her name, so does she mind if I call her Alice?" "She doesn't like it," Snow Angel answered immediately, "but she understands. She won't give you any name." "Okay." Doctor Booth cocked her head and changed the way she looked at Snow Angel, as if trying to look inside her. "Alice? My name is Patina, and I am a doctor. A healer, like you. And like you, I am very concerned about Emily." She spoke softly, and warmly, like to a child. "Now I think you have been doing a wonderful job with Emily, keeping her safe and alive, but it may be that she is suffering from something that you cannot handle alone. I would like to help you." Snow Angel almost flinched in response to that, and squirmed uncomfortably. "She doesn't like what you are saying." "I understand. I am not saying that you failed in any way. On the contrary. I admire what you have done. You kept her alive longer than I could have. But it may be that there is one thing that she is suffering from that I know about. Now this is for Emily. I am going to help her, but I need your cooperation. First, I am going to give her a complete physical examination. This means I am going to see her naked. Is this a problem?" Annie bit her tongue as Snow Angel grinned and shook her head. "Not a problem." "Okay," Patina nodded, and lightly pinched the inside of Emily's elbow. "Then I am going to take a blood sample. Feel this pinch here?" She squeezed the flesh. "This is all of the pain that she is going to experience when I take the sample. Just this little pinch. Okay?" Snow Angel grimaced. "She wants to know how much blood you are going to take." "About ten milliliters. Not much." She squinted again. "She doesn't know metric. And neither do I." "Not very much," Patina soothed. She held her fingers apart. "Just a little bit." "About the volume of three ejaculations," Annie offered. The other two looked at her funny. "Same guy three-in-a-row," Snow Angel asked "or three separate guys?" "Separate guys," Annie answered. Snow Angel bit her lip. "That can be a lot," she mused. "I was going to say the volume of a pencil," Doctor Booth offered. To Annie she asked "Three? How do you..." Annie shrugged. "I read a lot." Doctor Booth turned back to Snow Angel. "The body contains close to five thousand milliliters of blood," she said to Alice. "And she can lose ten milliliters with no ill effects. She will replace it within the hour. Is this okay?" Snow Angel grimaced again. "She's skeptical. She wants to see you do it to someone else." Annie rolled up her sleeves and exposed her arms. "Here! Take mine. You'll like it. I have good veins." She slapped her arm. "See? Hi there! This one is 'Mina', and that one is 'Lucy'." Snow Angel considered Annie's offer. "Well..." she hedged. "Okay. If she does it too," she reported. Doctor Booth nodded and stood up. "Good!" She opened a cabinet and pulled out a blue paper gown. "When we get to the blood test, I will take some from Annie first, to show you how it is done. But for now, I'd like to start with the physical examination." She handed the gown to Snow Angel. "Take off your clothes, and put this on. We'll be back in a few minutes." She stepped towards the door, and waited for Annie. Snow Angel started unfolding the paper gown, engrossed in the task, and not looking at Annie. Annie looked a little confused, unsure of what to do. She turned to Snow Angel. "Did you want me to stay?" "No," answered Snow Angel. "It's okay. You can go. Thank you though." Annie raised an eyebrow. "You shy suddenly?" "No." Snow Angel didn't offer anything else, and Annie shrugged. "Well, okay. I'll be outside." As Doctor Booth and Annie left the examination room and closed the door behind them, Snow Angel scooted off the table and hovered alone in mid air. She kicked off her shoes and swatted in the air for them to scurry off to a nearby chair. When her shoes didn't move, she groaned and dropped a few inches so she could kick them aside. Then she floated a little higher and pulled off her shorts. "Nobody is saying that." she said. She dropped the shorts on the chair and pulled her T-shirt over her head. "Because I want to." She gave the T-shirt a healthy sniff, folded it neatly, and placed it on the chair over her shorts. "Look, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't still be here. I would have been long gone. And so would have you. I still need you." She hung in mid-air, clad only in her bra and panties, and listened. "Will you just drop it? I'm doing this. End of discussion. Just don't hurt her." She reached behind her back to undo her bra, and groaned. "We've gone over this so many times before! You've got to understand. There are some things you can't perceive. But just because you can't see it doesn't mean it doesn't exist. These people, these doctors, they understand this world. There are viruses and genetic diseases here. They live here, and they study these. They know this world as well as you know your own world." She dropped her bra on the chair. "Well, just because this world doesn't work that way doesn't mean it isn't complex. I trust them. You're just going to have to trust me." She stopped and grimaced. "What was that supposed to mean?" She hovered and listened. "No, no, no. You tell me. What did you mean by that?" She pulled down her panties and dropped them on the chair. "ME? Evasive?" She groaned. "Jeepers, project much?" She picked up the paper gown and slipped her arms through the holes, wrapping it around her slender frame. "I told you. I want to." She started tying the cords behind her, and balked. "To get RID of the disease!" She paused. "I don't know what you're talking about." Another pause. "Well, why don't you show me?" she challenged. Snow Angel glowed briefly as a wave of magical energy pulsed out of her body uncontrollably. She startled, and heard the door unlatch. It opened an inch, and she scowled at the door. "You're wrong. I don't want to leave." She finished tying the back of her gown, and frowned. "Well, then why did you open the..." The door nudged open further, pushed open from the outside, and a baby crawled into the room. He stopped and stared at Snow Angel, and gave a gurgling laugh and a shriek. She watched him curiously as he gave her a big drooling smile. The next moment the young woman from the waiting room appeared, scooping him up from the floor. "I'm so sorry," said the mother. "He just got away from..." But she stopped as she saw the floating green girl, and stared in wonder. "You're..." she started. "Awk-ward..." Snow Angel sing-songed. She gave the woman a nervous grin. "Hi. Yeah, it's me. I'm Snow Angel." The woman stared at her, gasping in disbelief. "I ... um..." "Nice to meet you," Snow Angel said, offering her hand. "Oh, um. Hi!" She shifted the squirming baby in her arms and took her hand, jolting slightly at the cold touch. "I'm Nancy. Nancy Hanson. I'm a ... I'm so..." She blushed. "Thank you! Thank you so much for everything." Snow Angel gave her a warm smile. "I'm glad to help." "I really mean it! You just..." Nancy squinted at her. "Earlier, you were..." She made a connection, and looked horrified. "Oh dear! I wasn't supposed to see you like this, was I? Oh, I'm so sorry." Snow Angel waved it off. "Don't worry about it," she reassured Nancy. "It's not like you learned my real name. Just do me a favor and don't post this on Facebook or anything." She took a deep breath for the explanation. "You see, if you do, then the data miners find it, and then the insurance companies find out, and then they pester the doctor until they find out which name I'm using, and then suddenly my rates go through the roof. I have to get a new alias..." She waved her hands about madly, sending little snowflakes scattering about. "Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork!" she complained. Nancy smiled and nodded. "All right. I promise." The baby laughed at the sight of the snowflakes. Snow Angel scrunched her face at the baby and wiggled her fingers at him. "So this is Danny, right?" she asked. "Oh, yes!" Nancy said, lifting him up higher. Danny gurgled and cooed watching Snow Angel as she drifted closer. "Hi Danny!" The baby squealed delightfully. "He's a cutie!" "Yes he is," she answered, rocking her baby proudly. Snow Angel watched the baby for a moment. "You know, I do remember that day." "You do?" She nodded. "Hmm-mm! When I pulled your husband out of the river, the first thing he said to me was that he wanted to have kids." Nancy laughed. "He did?" Snow Angel nodded, and tickled Danny under his chin. "Yeah! Of course, at the time I thought he was propositioning me. So it's good to get some context on that." The two women laughed, prompting the baby to laugh along with them. Snow Angel tickled his chin again, and the baby boy latched onto her finger and sucked on it. "Oh. Firm grip!" Snow Angel giggled. Nancy grimaced, and pulled back a bit. "Danny, don't." "Yeah," Snow Angel agreed, pulling her finger from his mouth. "You don't know where that's been. And I DO know where it's been." Nancy suddenly looked horrified at the thought of where Snow Angel's finger may have been, and Snow Angel waved it off. "Oh. Don't worry about him. Nobody ever gets sick from me. I don't carry anything contagious." The young mother looked a little relieved, and she shifted her baby in her arms, pulling him away from Snow Angel. "Well I suppose I should let you um ... and I have to leave. Go schedule another appointment. I just wanted to thank you again. You..." She noticed Snow Angel's face falling as she pulled Danny away, and she glanced down at her baby. "Did ... did you want to hold him?" Snow Angel's face brightened. "Please?" Nancy stepped forward and held Danny out to her, and Snow Angel whimpered as she took the baby in her arms. "Oh ... Oh wow..." she whispered. "Haven't held a baby in so long..." She cradled the child to her chest, overwhelmed by his warmth and smell. She bobbed slightly in her hover, and caressed his cheek. Nancy could see the joy spreading over the superhero, and she smiled proudly. 'Oh, so beautiful." Snow Angel whispered. "Sometimes I wish..." she started. The baby squirmed in her arms, and grabbed and mouthed at her breast through the paper gown. "Oopsie! That's my boobie!" she giggled. She looked up at his mother. "Men!" she joked. "He's hungry," Nancy offered. "You're not going to find anything in there," Snow Angel cutely explained to the baby, and she shifted him in her arms. Nancy watched with honor as the superhero rocked her baby. She checked her watch. "Oh, damn. I really think I need to get going now. I wish I could..." Snow Angel sighed in disappointment. "Oh, um ... okay." She suddenly brightened. "But you still need to make your next appointment. Can I just ... hold him ... while you do that?" Nancy hesitated. "It's not like I'm going anywhere!" Snow Angel offered. "I promise. I'm not leaving with him, and he'll be safe with me, and I'll give him back as soon as you come back. I just want to ... hold him some more." She smiled. "Okay. You always tell the truth." Snow Angel beamed, and Nancy leaned down and kissed Danny on his head. "You be good. Mommy will be right back." And with a longing glance, she stepped out of the examination room, leaving her baby alone with the superhero. Snow Angel hugged the baby to her chest and twirled in the air, sighing and drinking in his scent. She hummed and rocked him, and the baby gurgled and laughed in her arms. "Hey baby," she sing-songed. And she sang to him. Byssan lulle barnet gryta henger i jarnet koka full av rømmegraut åt det vesle barnet. The baby's warmth and scent seeped into her, and she cuddled and cradled him. She hummed and bobbed in the air while the baby cooed and giggled. The child in her arms felt like a natural extension to her body, and she brushed her fingers over his fine hair, relishing in the softness. Danny made another lunge for her breast, and Snow Angel giggled and shifted the baby as she floated to the table, gently sitting on it. She stared at him, studying his tiny fingers and jerky motions, his bright blue eyes and smooth rosy cheeks. His promise of life potential radiated, and her heart felt warm, warmer than it had felt in years. She tickled his chin again, and he giggled and grabbed her finger again. As he tried to pull her finger into his mouth again, she wondered. She didn't put much thought into it, and before she had realized it she had instinctively reached back and pulled loose the cords behind her, loosening her examination gown. She then pulled the paper aside, exposing one emerald breast to the baby. She gasped as he latched on, for a powerful jolt of pleasure shocked through her body. A joy flowed into her from her nipple, and she cradled and held the baby to her breast, sighing heavily as the warmth spread through her. Warmth, loving warmth, something she could only get from others, filled her body and spirit. She let the magic flow out, into the baby, protecting him from frostbite and hypothermia, spurring his immune system and satiating his hunger pains, while she soaked in his living energy. The baby's eyes closed as he sucked, and her eyes teared. "I want this," she confessed. She sat for several minutes, just rocking, nursing, and luxuriating in the simple filling sensation of the baby nursing. She treasured him, caressing his head and hand, all of the time ignoring one small voice in the back of her head warning her of impending danger. The door opened, and she heard the gasp. She snapped her head up to see Nancy Hanson staring at her in horror. "What are you doing?" she snapped at her. "Oh..." Snow Angel looked down, up, and bit her lip. "Um..." she said rather embarrassed. "Awk-ward..." "What do you think you are doing?" she hissed. "Sorry," Snow Angel uttered, and then winced in pain. "I mean..." She extracted the baby from her chest and covered herself up. "I know I shouldn't have done that..." "Give him to me!" Nancy said, rushing up to them. Snow Angel handed Danny to his mother. "Here. Listen. I'm sorry," She winced again. "I mean, that was wrong of me. I don't know why I let myself do that." Nancy pulled her baby away and held him close, protecting him. "Just who the hell do you think you are? Just because you are a superhero makes you think you can..." "Listen. Please!" Tears welled up in Snow Angel's eyes. "I didn't mean any harm. I just ... I envy you." Nancy startled, and the sorceress continued. "I can't be a mom. You are so lucky. He is so special. I just wanted to know what it was like. And I know I overstepped, and I apologize for that. But please believe me. I didn't mean any harm." Nancy stared at her, angry, skeptical, and cradled her baby close to her chest. "You stay away from him." "Please don't make me promise that. I may need to save his life one day." The young mother turned to leave, and Snow Angel called out. "Please! Wait!" As Nancy stopped and watched, Snow Angel hopped off the table, picked up her purse from the chair, and pulled out a business card. She handed it to her. "Here. Please. Don't make a big thing out of this. Don't get me in trouble. I didn't mean any harm, and I promise I won't try to do that again. Here. Call this number, and I'll set up a college fund for him. Just please, don't make this any worse." Nancy stared alternately at Snow Angel and the card, and then quickly snatched the card from her hand and bolted from the room, taking Danny with her. Snow Angel floated and watched him disappear around the corner, and she wiped the tears from her eyes and sat back down on the examination table. She sniffed, sat, and wiped her eyes several times for a silent minute, her face slowly breaking from despair and embarrassment into anger. "You've fucking made your point," she said to the empty room. "I want to have a baby." ------- Translation Guide Norwegian lullaby "Hush Little Baby" Byssan lulle barnet gryta henger i jarnet koka full av rømmegraut åt det vesle barnet. Hush little baby the kettle is hanging (on the stove) filled up with boiling rømmegraut (sour cream porridge) for the little child. ------- Chapter 14: Unseen and Desired The arcane light pulsed and breathed from the inscribed circles and symbols, and suffused the room with an unearthly glow. In the center of the table lay a small bloodied cell phone wrapped in a loose black velvet ribbon. Lines shifted, and symbols quivered, and Lady Zamora scrutinized the designs carefully. A line snaked from the center to the opposing symbols, flaring briefly. "The reconciliation of Fire and Earth begins," she said, reading the symbols. ------- The rest of the day just flew by for Joey. Well, most of it did. It started off fun. He was having so much fun, he barely even remembered that he was working off community service hours. Tricia started by teaching him basic camera operations, explaining light balance, warm and cold filters, zoom control, framing and panning techniques, and lighting. Joey took to framing naturally, having a keenly honed instinct for visual style as an artist. Camera work suited him, and he decided he wanted to do more work with a camera in the future. And he found it was fun to work with her on something constructive. They then spent an hour interviewing a young woman, barely into her twenties, who told of her story of life on the streets. It was one Joey had heard before. Some street kids were just kicked out of their houses by irresponsible and uncaring parents, and Vickie Boyle was one of many. Having no one to turn to, she had resorted to prostitution to survive. She was a plain, haggard looking girl with haunted eyes and scars and she emitted an aura of hopelessness. Tricia was cautious with her, carefully pulling details of her life with exploitive pimps and clients, beatings and abuse. Joey could see Tricia's eyes tear as they heard her story, but Vickie didn't cry. It was not as if her pain was diminished in any way; it was just that she simply had no tears left. When they finished, Joey watched as Tricia gave Vickie some money and a recommendation for the local House of Ruth, a shelter for battered women. After the interview, Tricia just busied herself with other jobs, cleaning and distributing food and clothing, and didn't seem to have much time to spend with him. So he decided to spend some time with some of the younger kids in the shelter, reading with them as best he could and playing games with them, and watching them as their mothers worked with councilors. Their shift eventually ended, sooner than he expected, and Joey packed Tricia's camera gear into the backseat of her car. As they started driving home, the familiar uncomfortable silence filled the car again. All through his punishment there were these long tortuous silences that accompanied their drives to and from work, but now that they were on good terms again, Joey didn't understand why the silence returned. He didn't see the look of anger and impatience on her face now, but there was a preoccupation instead. He could see something in her eyes, but he didn't know what it was. He decided to break the silence. "I had fun today." She nodded. No change. He paused, and tried a different subject. "You know, I was thinking. If Snow Angel is home with Annie, maybe she could work on my hands." Another nod, but no other reaction. He had expected her to say something like "Only if you take her to heal those boys you hurt," but instead it was just nothing. He sighed and tried again. "I was also thinking that after the community service hours are done, I want to keep working at the shelter. I like helping them, and I like working with you." She bit her lip, sighed slightly, and nodded. There was no other response. Joey sighed and just looked out the window, watching the streets pass by. He didn't know what else to do. The silence had conquered again. Tricia suddenly signaled, pulled over onto the shoulder, and stopped the car under a bridge. Joey stared at her. Her face was a mask of determination again. "What is it?" he asked. She held the steering wheel tightly, and lowered her head down to rest on the wheel. Joey could see her knuckles turn white as she squeezed the steering wheel. And then she burst into tears. Tricia cried, and a wave of horror washed over Joey. "Oh God, what have I done?" he wondered in a panic. "I'm sorry!" he said quickly while trying to figure out what he did wrong. "Maybe I shouldn't have brought up Snow Angel healing me, or should have offered to have her heal Clyde, Brandon, and Neil as well. Or maybe she doesn't want to work with me. Or I should have done more cleaning instead of just playing with the kids." "I'm sorry," he tried again. Tricia shook her head, still crying, and managed to get out a "Not you," between sobs. "Oh," Joey answered. The relief just confused him. Hearing that he wasn't the one that was making her cry eased him slightly, but it was not enough to make him feel better. She was still crying. "What is it?" he asked carefully. She ground her head into the steering wheel, still sobbing, but trying to control herself. She wiped her eyes and turned to him. "My purse?" she asked. He handed her her purse, and Tricia dug out some tissues, blew her nose, and wiped her eyes again. "I'm sorry," she started. "It's not you." She leaned back against her seat and took in a deep cleansing breath. Joey was momentarily distracted by her inflating chest, but quickly turned his attention back to her face. "It's everything." "What do you mean?" Tricia rubbed her face. "I mean..." she started, and looked at him. Her eyes were red and puffy. "Please don't take this the wrong way. I love you, and you are the best thing that's happened to me, but..." She took another deep breath. " ... sometimes I just want my old life back," she confessed. "Her old life? She means before me." Joey felt a chill run through his spine as he contemplated that. "You don't ... want me?" he started. Tricia took his hand. "No, it's not that. Please don't say that. (Let me!) I don't want you to leave. I just feel overwhelmed sometimes, that's all." Joey stared at his hand. He had felt it. Something had flashed in his mind. Something happened when she touched him. Something entered him. It was a concept. The simple desire to express herself without judgement or consequences had made itself clear to him. This flash of want, it was something he realized had been happening more often to him lately. He stared up at Tricia's tearing eyes, and realized how his panic had hurt her. "Don't judge her. Just let her talk," he decided. "Okay," he said, nodding. "I can understand. Go on." Relief washed over Tricia's face, and she smiled through her tears. She leaned back in her seat. "It's just everything, you know?" she cried. She dabbed her eyes again. "I don't even know where to begin." There was a long pause as she just sat and sniffed, and Joey watched her eyes dart back and forth, searching for something. He squeezed her hand. "If you can't find the beginning, don't start there. Start in the middle," he suggested. "Anywhere." She half-chuckled and nodded, squeezing his hand back as she let out an "Okay." Her face fell as she spoke. "She got to me." "Who?" "Vickie." Joey frowned, and Tricia continued. "She was talking about her life and I suddenly realized ... There but for the Grace of God go I." She wiped her eyes and nose again. "I don't know how other journalists can do this without..." She trailed off, not finishing the sentence. "What do you mean, she got to you?" "It hit too close to home, you know?" He shook his head. Tricia took a deep breath. "Her dad kicked her out, and ... so did mine." Joey's jaw dropped, and she continued. "And it's so easy to just fall into selling yourself, you know? Just ... You remember when I told you? How rare it is to meet a guy who wants me to be good instead of sexy?" She looked down into her lap. "A lot of men just want women to be sexy, and nothing else." He watched her as she collected her thoughts. "That could have been me," she confessed quietly. "It's so easy to just sell yourself. But I lucked out. I found what I wanted to do, and I..." She shrugged. " ... found ways to do it." She swallowed. "I slept with guys for free room and board, got into college, slept with teachers to get good grades, slept with the boss to get a job..." She paused. "I'm not proud of it, but I see how easy it could have been to just..." She looked back at Joey. "I could have been like her." Joey pondered this. "But you're not," he suggested. She gave him a critical look through her tears. Don't judge her, he remembered. "I mean, you must have done something different." Her smile returned. "I did. I had a dream." She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "I wanted to be on TV and be a journalist." Joey watched her enjoy the moment as she reflected on her desires, and a memory from a dream returned to him. She has a secret desire. Find out what it is. He cocked his head as he looked at her. "Why" he asked. "Hmm?" "Why did you want to be a journalist?" Tricia shrugged, and took in a shuddering breath. Her face fell. "So he would notice me." Joey was perplexed. "Who?" "My dad. I never told you about him, did I?" Joey shook his head and Tricia took in a deep breath. "Well, he hates women," she said matter-of-factly. "It took me a long time to realize that. A classic misogynist, you know? Thinks that all women fall into two camps; virgins and whores. And it was okay when I was little, because I was his little girl, you know?" He could see a level of hopefulness in her eyes. "And then when my brothers were born, he was so happy, so proud. Of them." The hope vanished from her eyes. "And I tried, I really tried to get his attention. So he would feel proud of me? And when I got older, and hit puberty..." Her voice dropped. " ... he would have nothing to do with me." Her eyes teared again. "In his eyes I had transitioned from virgin to whore, and he wouldn't talk to me, wouldn't notice me, wouldn't do anything ... And I saw the way other fathers treated their girls, and their wives, and I saw how dismissive he was to my mom. He just married her because she was officially the prettiest woman around. My mom was Miss Mexico, nineteen eighty two, did you know that?" Joey shook his head. "Well, I never saw him respect her, or listen to her, or do anything thoughtful for her. Or me. Or any woman." She took another deep breath. "The only women he listened to were on TV. It was the only time I ever saw him pay attention to women, We would watch the news together, and I would see him listen to women. And it was the only thing we did together. That was when I decided I wanted to do that. To be a TV journalist." Tricia fell into a silence, and dabbed her eyes with the tissue. "I still wanted to do it even after he kicked me out," she added. "Why did he kick you out?" "He caught me with a boy," she grumbled. "We were fooling around, barely necking, and he just blew up. Said he didn't want a slut in the house, and he dumped my clothes into some trash bags and threw me out." She was crying from the memory. "And I was screaming, pleading with him, and he..." She stopped and touched her cheek. Joey knew what that meant. "He just couldn't accept who I was and what I was. A woman. A person with desires and needs. Who wanted to be at least recognized and encouraged. At least noticed. Loved. Admired." She balled up the tissue and threw it into the back seat with the rest of the trash. "I was on the cover of Time magazine!" she barked. "And he didn't even give me a fucking phone call. Fuck him!" She pulled out another tissue and stared out the window, and Joey watched her carefully. Silence filled the car. Find out what that desire is, echoed a voice in his mind, and do what you can to fulfill it. "What do you want, Tricia?" he asked sincerely. Tricia sighed and gave a half-chuckle. "I want to be me again. I don't like hiding myself. I don't like hiding the way I look, and I don't like hiding these stupid powers. I don't like these powers." She looked down at her hands. "I don't know why I have them. Sandy says Cosmics get their powers because they understand something clearly, and I don't feel like I understood anything. And I always thought it would be cool to have superpowers, but it's not. I always feel like I'm treading water, trying to catch up or not get too far away from everyone else, and I'm dizzy, and the only things I know how do with it are clean the kitchen real fast and make myself nauseous." She chuckled to herself through her tears. "I now have the power to fulfill my life-long desire of contracting Bulimia," she said sarcastically. "My dad would be proud of that." She paused, and continued. "And I keep having nightmares. I see things that might happen, but usually don't. I keep seeing things like Annie getting burned or you pulling Snow Angel's powers out of her, and killing her, and I know you wouldn't do that, so I don't understand what it means." She wiped her eyes. "And I keep seeing these numbers. Forty, twelve, twenty-seven. What is that? It's not my measurements. I keep playing them on Pick-3, and it never wins. I don't know what it is." Tricia fell quiet again, and Joey just watched and listened. "I don't know what I want," she finally said. "Sometimes I want to go back to my old job. It was stupid and easy, but at least I could be ME there. I could get on camera, and I could wear what I want, and be what I wanted to be." She looked down at her oversized blouse and pulled on it. "I hate wearing this. I look fat and ugly in it. And Matilda is right. I know I need to tone it down for Betty so I can keep you, but I miss being what I used to be. I mean, I worked hard to look good. I like being seen and admired. I'm making up for it, you know?" She looked out the window. "I like being seen for what I am," she said. "I like being watched, but now, I can't do that anymore. And I miss it. I feel so invisible." Joey thought back and smirked. Tricia turned and caught the smirk. "What?" she asked. "I've seen you when you were invisible," he said. "You were still pretty sexy then." She smiled. "Tricia, what do you want to do?" Her face fell, and she sighed. "I don't know. I can't go back to my old job. And if I take Matilda's offer to do the whole 'Omega Woman' thing, do commercials and appearances, at least I'd be on camera again, and I'd be making some good money, but I'd be away from you and Annie for long periods, and I don't want to do that." "You could dress sexy again," Joey offered. "Yeah, but I like being sexy on my terms. I don't like being told when and how and why I look. It's my empowerment, not theirs." She paused. "I feel so trapped, and sometimes I just want to..." She trailed off. "What?" She shook her head. "Can't. It's stupid." He shrugged. "So what if it's stupid? Your stupid ideas are good ideas. You found me because of one of your stupid ideas. What do you want to do?" She smiled and chuckled. "I want to be seen again. I want to dress the way I want and show off. I want to tease the men, get everyone hot for me, you know? Either in front of people, or in front of a camera, and just dance or strip naked!" Joey could see her eyes flash with desire and excitement, and she squirmed in her seat. "If I did this on camera, I could at least post it online and see the comments and watch the hit counter go up." Her voice dropped to a growl. "Can you imagine all those men all beating off to me?" Joey reflected on it. "I'm wrong. You're right. That is a stupid idea." Her smile faded. "Yeah. Told you." "You know, if Betty ever saw that..." "Yeah. I know." He thought about it some more. "You know, we can still do it, and just not post it anywhere." Tricia shrugged. "Then what's the point?" "Well, we could watch it at home. I'd like it, and so would Annie." She sighed. "Do you really believe that Betty doesn't come and do inspections when we aren't there? She'd find it." She looked out the window. "Maybe it's for the best. Maybe I just need to grow up." Joey watched her face turn blank as she looked out the window. "It's not fair", he told himself. "She should be happy." "No!" he barked. She turned to him. "Tricia, you have every right to be who you want to be, and how you want to be, and I don't care if she doesn't like it. I think you should do it if it makes you happy." "We don't make the rules. If I do that, I lose you forever." He groaned and stared into the back seat of the car, looking and thinking. Tricia's back seat was filled with trash from various fast food places, and the camera bag sat on top of the pile. He squinted at the camera bag, and thought. An idea formed. He frowned, and then cocked his head as he looked at the camera bag. Then he pulled it out of the back and opened the bag. Tricia watched him as he pulled out the camera and special lens filters. "What are you doing?" "So, you need to be seen for what you are," Joey said, fitting the filter on the lens. "Beautiful, sexy, and on your terms. But you can't be seen doing it, right?" "Yeah," she said, watching him point the camera at her. He dropped the camera, and grinned at her. "I think I have an idea!" ------- After discussing their plans, the first stop was a thrift shop. Tricia bought an entirely new outfit, something she wouldn't be recognized in: new blouse, skirt, bra, panties, stockings, evening gloves, shoes, sunglasses, long coat, an oversized handbag, and a long black wig. Joey picked up new jeans, jacket, shirt, baseball cap, and a backpack. He also found a small set of battery powered speakers for some music. They then drove out of the city towards a cheap hotel that Tricia knew all too well. They parked a block away at a gas station, and then sat in the car for about fifteen minutes as Tricia meditated, banking about ten minutes of extra time. Joey kept a watchful eye for people looking in at them as she collected the minutes. "Ready," she finally said, pulling herself from her meditation. She gripped the steering wheel to steady herself as a wave of dizziness washed over her, then checked her watch and cell phone. "You sure this will work?" "Trust me," he said, and he took her hand. "Now think about being quiet." They both concentrated, her on trying to be quiet, and him on what her brain was doing. Sparks burst from his hand as he pushed a power into her. "Okay," he said. "When you try to be quiet, you will absorb all sound. That should do something about the sonic booms. I'll see you there. Good luck." "Thank you, ' she said. "You too." He kissed her hand, and got out of the car, taking the camera bag and his purchases with him. He then headed away from the gas station towards a small diner, keeping an eye out for people following or watching him. As he approached the diner, he turned back and saw Tricia leave the car and enter the gas station restroom. Four seconds later she emerged from the bathroom in a completely new outfit. She was wearing the long black wig, hat, sunglasses, and the long coat and her new handbag was slung over one shoulder. The bag, he knew, was stuffed with her purse and previous clothes. The wardrobe change was so quick and complete he almost didn't recognize her, which was the point. He grinned and headed into the diner, and then into the back restroom. Once inside the stall, he changed his clothes and stuffed his old clothes, the camera bag, and the speakers into his backpack. Then he threw the backpack over his shoulder and headed out, slipping out another door, and into the alleys. The familiar sense of caution returned to him. This life, moving on the streets, and keeping a watchful eye for anyone who might be interested in him, was something he had hoped he had left behind him forever, but the old skills came back easily. He ducked around dumpsters and jumped fences, making a long circle around the block until his cell phone chirped. He checked the message. It was from Tricia. "@ GROCERY. DO I NEED TAPMONS? AM I OUT?" He chuckled to himself. They had agreed that if she couldn't get a room, she would send a simple sentence spelled correctly. The misspelling was the signal that she got a room. The last bit was the room number. "AM I OUT?" Two letters, one letter, three letters. Room 213. He headed towards the hotel, carefully watching for witnesses and cameras. As soon as he reached the door to room 213, Tricia opened it and quickly pulled him inside. The curtains were closed tightly, but the room was well lit. She mouthed something, but was silent. Joey touched her arm and removed the power. He could hear her breathing heavily now. "What was that?" he asked. "I said," she whispered. "Did anyone see you?" He shook his head. "No. What about you? Any trouble?" "No. I just paid cash and gave a fake name. They don't check your ID here. It's one of their selling points." She clutched her heart through her blouse. "I'm still so nervous. Not used to sneaking around." As she leaned against a dresser, Joey watched her try to catch her breath. The new clothes hugged her body tightly, accentuating her breasts and hips. Her new bra didn't fit her properly, and he could see the way her huge breasts bulged out of the top of the undergarment. The sight made his mouth water, and he licked his lips while watching her luscious body move, and then he looked back and forth between her and the bed a couple times, seriously tempted. "You know, we could always just..." he began. "You know?" She gave him a weird look. "Sorry," he said. "This is for you." Down boy, he thought to himself as he took off his backpack and opened it, pulling out the camera bag. As he started setting up the camera, Tricia looked about the small hotel room nervously. "So, what should I do?" she asked. Joey thought. "Um, pop the lenses out of those sunglasses, and wear the frames. Then put on the evening gloves. Keep the wig on. Then set up the music. I got you these speakers. They should work with your MP3 player." She nodded and set herself to those tasks as Joey finished with the camera, attaching one of the lens filters and popping in a new memory stick. "Ready?" he asked. She nodded. "Yeah," she said, now wearing the empty eyeglass frames and evening gloves. She had selected a playlist from her MP3 player, and her breathing was still heavy from nervousness and excitement. "Now be careful. I don't want you in any of the shots." "I don't plan to be in any," he answered, turning the camera on. "No part of you. No shoes, no hands, no shadows, and no reflections. If you see yourself, or say anything, stop the recording and delete it. Okay?" He nodded. "Okay. I'll be careful." She took a deep breath. "Okay. I think I'm ready." She frowned. "What do you think I should do first?" He smiled and stepped forward. "Just act natural I guess. Do what you want. And just keep it in mind that someone is watching you, but can't see who you are." She smiled and licked her lips, obviously enjoying the thought, and Joey reached his hand up to Tricia's face and gently touched her soft cheek. "Here we go," he said, and the Omegaplasm flowed. She started to fade. He started at the top of the spectrum and worked his way down. Colors shifted on her skin, and she started turning a sickly green at first, but Joey could also see somewhat through her as the red and orange light passed through her. He continued on, removing yellows and greens. Her skin continued to fade, turning into a dark olive green and then sliding into teal and cerulean, and then into a deep blue. As the colors pulled out of her, she faded in opacity as well, and he could see the inside of her wig and clothes easily. Her eyes dilated wide. Tricia gasped. "Wow. It's getting dark," she said. "Yeah?" he asked. She squinted. "Colors are weird. It's getting real blue." "Get used to it. It'll be the only thing you see for a while." Joey continued, pulling out the blue-greens, slipping down into the blues. She was barely visible now, only defined as a faint indigo transparent shell. The veins in her skin were prominent and a little off-putting. "I can barely see anything now," she said. "It's just shadows in the dark. Are you done?" "Let me check." He pointed the camera at her and checked the display. "Almost. Let me pull some infra-red out..." He watched the smoky shadow vanish from the camera display, revealing an empty animated wig. "Done." he said proudly. "The camera can't see you at all. The warm lens filters out the deep blues, and that's all I left in you. Can you see anything?" Tricia looked about the room. "I can see the lights, and I think I'm getting used to this. Yeah. I can see well enough to get around." She turned towards him. "I can see you," she said cutely, and waved at him. He squinted. "I can barely see you." She felt around the table. "Oh damn. I can't find the MP3 player. Oh, here it is ... Great. Now I can't read it. Can you start the music?" He took the player from her. "I'll take care of it." As he took the player, he noticed her nipples were hard and prominently poking through her blouse. "Is it too cold in here for you?" She smiled. "Don't worry about that. I'll get hot soon enough." Joey grinned, stepped back and held the camera up. "Okay. Let's get started then." Her voice shifted as she got serious. "Thank you, Joey," she said. "You don't know how much this means to me." He smiled. "You just have fun with this, and try and get me to cum in my pants, okay?" She giggled. "And ... Action!" He started recording, and started the music. A slow, romantic jazz piece played, the melody dripping with saxophone, and Tricia took in a deep breath and transformed herself. Her nervousness vanished immediately, overwhelmed by her intense desire to perform in front of the camera. She strutted across the room in her full outfit, stepping in time with the suggestive music, and Joey let her walk into the frame. She spun proudly, letting the full coat bloom out about her body. She was coy about her face at first, hiding the fact that it was invisible to the camera, and kept her head turned away. With her back to him, she opened her coat and let it drop off one soft shoulder, then the other, and let it slide slowly down to the floor to reveal the shapely woman underneath. "Hi there..." she purred, altering her accent as best she could, and she half-turned her face flirtatiously towards him. Joey could see the eyeglass frames through the camera, but not her face, and she twisted her torso, prominently displaying the strong curve of her ample breast to him. "You want to see me, don't you?" she asked, and she ran her gloved hands down over her round butt, kneading her fingers into the firm flesh. "Mmm..." she moaned slightly. "But you've seen women before, haven't you?" She turned towards him, fully exposing her magnificent curves and invisible face to the camera. "Bet you haven't seen this before, have you?" she giggled, and she popped one wide hip out and posed, flipping her long wig hair about. She inhaled deeply, inflating her chest, causing the buttons to strain on her new blouse as she ran her hands up over her stomach and torso, caressing herself. "Do you want to see more?" she prodded, tracing her gloved fingers over the indentations of her hardened nipples. Her hand moved up, higher towards her face, and she outlined her cheeks and lips with her gloved fingers. "Do you want to see it all? Look closely." Tricia slowly swung her hips to the music, accentuating the sexy saxophone with her own breathy moans of pleasure. She twisted and stretched, pulling the buttons of her blouse to their limit as her chest inflated with each deep breath, and ran her gloved fingers through the wig hair, pulling the ebony strands up and letting them cascade down over her shoulders. She spun, letting her short, loose skirt blossom around her, revealing stockinged thighs and the faintest glimpse of white panties. Joey could see her smiling intensely as she danced for him, and he smiled back as she crooked a gloved finger towards him, beckoning him to come closer. He stepped up, pointing the camera at different parts of her. He brought the camera up to her head, and she pulled the long black hair across her face. "Oh wow!" he thought, for Joey could see through the display the indentations of her eyes, nose, and lips push through the hair, defining her. She was completely invisible to the camera, no skin, no natural hair, no teeth, nothing was visible, yet her presence was unmistakable, her femininity powering through the invisibility. He lowered the camera, catching glimpses of the inside of her inflated blouse and bra as he passed down her neck, and down to the full expanse of her abundant breasts. Tricia's voluminous chest filled the camera's view, and he had to pull back to get them fully in frame again. She giggled and twisted, thrusting her chest out repeatedly as she gyrated to the jazzy music. Fabric stretched and strained under the pressure, and buttons barely held. Hard nipples poked out, making a starburst pattern of folds in the fabric. She ran her gloved hands up and over her breasts, squeezing and molding them, and she swung back and forth in her dance, revealing every side of them. Joey felt his knees weaken in desire. She dropped her hands lower, down to her stomach, and Joey followed them. He guessed she was self-consciously pulling her stomach in, and he kept her hands in frame as she caressed her midriff and hips, and then down to her thighs. She coyly pulled the front of her skirt up, revealing her stockings and panties. To the camera's view, her full yet empty panties rocked and hung in mid air, suspended over hollow stockings. A slight crease in the front showed the outlines of her labia, and she writhed and ground her hips to the simple beat. Joey tugged at his collar with his free hand, releasing nervous heat from his shirt. His pants were getting a little tight too, and she chuckled and beckoned upward. He pulled back and up, framing her face and chest, and Tricia swung lazily to the beat. "Do you want to see me take off my clothes?" she whispered. "Do you? If you want me to, just touch yourself." He couldn't quite figure out exactly who she was talking to, him or some generic viewer, but he decided to play along, because he really wanted to see her take off her clothes. He reached down to his pants and adjusted his growing erection. Tricia giggled, watching him, and she reached one gloved hand up to the top button of her blouse. "That's it," she encouraged him. "Touch yourself, and watch me." She popped the top button, revealing nothing but the emptiness of the back of her blouse. She breathed deeply, gasping for him as she popped a second and a third button. Her blouse pulled open from the strain of her full bosom, and one button more revealed the front of her bra. She squealed and cooed, getting into the striptease while swinging her body to the sexy beat, then took the edges of her blouse in her hands and pulled the lapels open and closed around her chest, alternately squeezing her breasts and revealing her empty bra. She moaned and danced, and opened more buttons lower and lower, revealing empty clothes given life by her body. Joey's heart was beating madly in his chest, and he had to lean against a chair for support while he rubbed himself. The last buttons undone, Tricia shrugged the blouse off her shoulders with a joyous shriek and shimmied her chest, sending her full suspended bra shaking and sloshing. The blouse dropped down, and she caught it in her gloved fingers. She spun and twirled the blouse around her, transforming it into a veil which she let fall and wrap about her breasts. The odd sight of the empty animated gloves, bra, wig, and glasses exuded the life and passion of the woman, and she twirled and threw the blouse aside. She danced, raising her gloved arms up high over her, gathering the long black hair up and letting it cascade down. The wig and glasses swung and dipped. Her inflated bra hung suspended in mid air, and rocked and jiggled as it shook, the stretched cups straining against their invisible but heavy loads. She traced her fingers down her sides, outlining the lost curves of her waist and hips, and hooked her thumbs down into the swishing skirt. She slowly pushed the skirt down over her rocking panties. Joey had to take a deep breath and steady himself as the skirt fell. The emptiness was prominent now, with her invisible body defining the life of her floating bra, panties, stockings, and evening gloves. As the skirt hit the floor, Tricia stepped out and strutted in time with the music in a tight circle, and sensuously rolled onto the bed. Joey immediately moved forward, repositioning himself to shoot her from a higher angle. She squirmed on the bed, the blankets pressing down with indentations of her body. Shoulder and butt depressions formed in the soft mattress while her bra and panties twisted and writhed in between. She pointed one gloved finger towards the splayed out wig hair, and the finger extended unnaturally, pulled tight from some unknown clamping force as her hand slid out the length of the collapsing glove. The garment, now caught in her teeth he realized, deflated from the fingers as the unmistakable indentations of a hand slipped up the full extent. Once the hand pattern left the far opening, the glove fell lifeless and draped over full rounded curves along with the bra. A moment later, the empty glove simply flew across the room. Tricia laughed and rolled to her side, her one visible gloved arm bent and supporting her head, or at least where her head would be inside the wig. "Do you like me?" she whispered. "Do you like what you see?" Joey panned the camera left and right, and saw the slight stain of dampness in the crotch of her panties. He smiled, knowing that she was getting turned on, and panned back towards her top half. A slight movement caught his eye. A ripple, a small moving wave in the blanket traced its way in a lazy figure-eight across the bedspread in front of the huge bra cups. The wave moved toward her, and transferred up into the bra's fabric. Fingerprints crept across the cloth, and she moaned slightly as she caressed her own breast in small circles. Animated depressions pinched the indentation of a nipple, and she let out a slight squeal of pleasure. Then she rolled forward onto her stomach, pressing her bosom straight into the bed. Her bra cups flattened, pressing deep into the mattress. Joey could see the pattern of her full arm impressed into the blanket, and her full handprint in the one bra cup. She caressed herself for a bit, and the handprint disappeared from the cup as the arm depression moved down the bed, lower and lower until it reached the panties. Fingerprints appeared the panties fabric, and she gasped. The stockings kicked up, and she shifted onto her knees. The panties rose high as she pushed her butt upward, while the front of the garment squished and crumpled. Tricia moaned and let out a shuddering sigh. "Watch me," she gasped. "Watch me closely." The panties and stockings swayed to the music while ripples circled in the front of the undergarment. Joey could hear her whimpering in pleasure. The one remaining glove reached down, took one side of the panties, and lowered them. The other side of the panties followed, pulled by an unseen source, and the garment slipped down to loop over the stockings. The hollow stockings clamped together suddenly and twisted to the side, allowing one long stocking to slowly pass through the panties loop. Once extracted, the freed stocking kicked itself high and stayed there. The lone glove felt its way up between the openings of the stockings, its fingers rubbing an emptiness there in small circles. She moaned breathily as a handprint rubbed into the thigh of the raised stocking. The glove was rubbing, probing, and massaging the empty space, and one digit extended, becoming dark with wetness. The empty brassiere inflated and deflated regularly, but now at a faster pace. She gasped, and the raised stocking lifted itself towards the head of the bed. The glove left its position between the stockings and took hold of the opening of the raised legging. It pulled, peeling the hollow fabric off of nothing, rolling the thin cloth upward, past the thickness of a thigh, past the indentations of the knee, and then up the curves of the calf. The stocking inverted itself as it lost its final foot shape, and dropped deflated onto the bed. Joey carefully held the camera as steady as he could, but it was getting difficult. Her smell was intoxicating. He secretly wished he had brought the tripod. The glove waved over the bra, and the fingertips suddenly extended and stretched, anchored in the air by nothingness, and the internal shape of the arm and hand slipped towards the opening, stretching the glove as the shapes escaped out of the garment. First the elbow disappeared, and then the hand left, leaving the glove to drape lifelessly in the air. It dropped with an accompanying giggle. The final stocking lifted itself up high and bent clear towards the bra, glasses, and wig. Dead panties climbed up the length, looped over the foot, and dropped. Ripples of fingerprints travelled up the extended cloth, caressing and probing, and then the stocking started bunching itself up, releasing its shape. Soon it too had relinquished its life force and fell. Joey moved the camera back, capturing what little else there was as Tricia lay nearly naked on the bed. The wig and glasses rolled left and right, and the brassiere swelled and released with her heavy breathing. Divots in the blankets shifted and squirmed, torso and buttocks shapes twisted and writhed while footprints planted themselves in the bedspread. Gasping, moaning, whimpering cries of ecstasy emerged from near the headboard. A handprint pushed into a bra cup, followed by curious wet smacking sounds born from the center of the bed. Joey looked out from the viewfinder and watched the faint indigo shadow of Tricia as she writhed and fingered herself. He swallowed nervously, adjusted his erection again, and seriously considered just dropping the camera and jumping on her, sucking on her magnificent breasts and fucking the shit out of her. He wanted her. She seemed ready for it, and would probably let him fuck her. It was Rule Number Five after all, but he wasn't sure. They had gone to so much trouble to film her, that it didn't seem right to stop. But he still wanted her. He paused the camera and gently reached. His fingers touched her leg. ("No!") She snapped her head up to look at him. "What are you doing?" she asked tersely. The No was still echoing in his mind. He could feel it. She didn't want to be touched, just seen. "I um..." he started. "I just needed to recharge the invisibility," he lied. He didn't have to recharge her. He knew he could keep her invisible for at least an hour. "Oh." She relaxed. "I thought you were going to..." He hesitated. "I want to. Bad. You're just so hot. But this is for you. Keep going." He pointed the camera at her and resumed recording. Tricia smiled proudly and returned to her performance. As Joey watched through the camera's screen, she sat up. Her long wig, glasses, and bra rose as deep handprints appeared in the bed. The handprints disappeared, and for a moment it was hard to tell what was happening. Then the bra snapped open in the back, and with one shoulder strap after the other, it drooped, became lifeless and fell to the bed. The depressions shifted, and the wig and glasses moved, rose, and floated towards the back of the room. Joey pulled back and caught the appearance and disappearance of footprints in the soft carpeting. The wig peeled back and dropped, leaving the glasses frames hanging alone in the air. The glasses turned towards the camera, cocked, and then flipped forward and folded. "I'm going to take a shower," said her disembodied voice. "Holy shit!" thought Joey. He was strangely glad they didn't stop to fuck, because he really wanted to see this. The glasses placed themselves on a table, and the bathroom door opened. The light turned on. Joey moved up and poked the camera around the threshold into the bathroom, carefully avoiding the mirrors. The camera caught several motions in the small bathroom. The shower curtain pulled back on its own. Handles turned, and streams of water poured into the tub from the faucet. As the water poured and steam rose, a small bar of soap floated from the sink, unwrapped itself, and drifted into the shower stall. For the briefest moment, the steam flowed and outlined the shape of an invisible arm which vanished a moment later. Joey leaned against the door frame and got himself comfortable for the show. His heart was racing, and he adjusted his erection. The water pouring from the faucet splashed from an interference an inch or two into the stream, and the handles turned again. The splashing stopped, and Joey could see through the camera the shells of watery fingers lift away and spread against the wall. More splashing sounds came, footsteps he could tell, and the transfer valve flipped. Water stopped pouring from the tub faucet, and he held his breath as the gurgling sound of water travelled up the pipe and through the extended hose to the detachable shower head. The shower erupted with dozens of streams of water which sprayed down to the tub and bounced off the air, revealing her. Droplets sprayed and ricocheted while hovering streams and rivers formed, bent, and flowed into great rounded curves suspended in mid-air. Joey could hear Tricia gasp with the shock and bliss as the fingers of water enveloped her, and she squealed and turned. An unmistakably feminine watery shell formed of rivers and rippling sheets, drops, and steam which defined the living shape of an exceptional woman's torso, and he stared in abject fascination, enchanted by the curvaceous existence as it twisted and writhed in the showering streams. A skin of water danced in celebration, radiating life and passion. Great mounds collected and poured a heavy flow of water within an invisible cleavage, a flow which poured downwards following a dancing softness of a stomach to a patch of spidery wetness where her crotch lay, and then took one of two possible paths down strong legs. Hands and arms took form within the streams, water cascading down in living sheets, and touched itself, passing and caressing a watery body. Moans emerged and radiated from the stall. She turned, allowing the water to spray and define her back. Sheets and rivers manifested, defined, and fell, leaving the shape of a woman behind as she dipped backwards. The water caught something long and absorbent, and a spongy transparent mass took form as her long hair soaked in the streams. Tricia's hair, a normally buoyant and billowing mane, now hung low and drooped while encumbered by the mass of water it had absorbed, forming a silky floating mesh of wetness which soaked, grew, and then overflowed, spilling into streams to the floor of the tub. The spongy mass shifted, and the shower stream now fell and bounced off of nothing, forming a human face sculpted in water. The face turned left and right, luxuriating in the warm spray, and smiled in pleasure. She then stood up straight and whipped the mane of wetness about. Wet arm shapes raised, covering wet breast shapes, and the watery face shell looked towards the camera. "Is someone there?" she asked. "Can barely see." The wet shape of her head tilted. Joey saw the smirk in the droplet contours which formed her face, and he zoomed in. "You want me, don't you?" she asked, and the shapes of hands dropped, and picked up the bar of soap. "It's okay," she said, while Joey closely filmed the two hollow shapes of hands as they fondled and lathered the bar of soap. "You can watch. Just don't touch me." She chuckled as the floating ball of lather dripped into the tub. "Why don't you touch yourself?" A soapy shape of a hand reached up to the shower head and moved it, altering the trajectory of the streams, and Joey stepped closer to record her while she lathered herself. Her body, now reduced to a matrix-like shell of water droplets soon became a three-dimensional canvas as she spread the white bubbly lather over herself. The lather mounds raised and smeared, defining her cheekbones, nose, and chin, and she hummed a little tune as her neck and shoulders appeared in the finger-painted soapiness. The bar of soap passed over her long arms, coating and caressing herself, and the defined arm shapes reached up and smoothed the soapy lather down her chest, forming her abundant breasts. Joey leaned against the sink and rubbed his cock raw through his pants as he tried desperately to keep the camera steady, and bit his tongue to keep himself from moaning. The soapy shell of the woman continued to define herself as she lathered and caressed. Hands moved down her stomach and around to sculpt the rounded contours of her buttocks. She turned around, her heavy breast shells mashing into the shower wall while her soapy hands kneaded and massaged her tight butt. "Ohhh..." she moaned and writhed. "Are you seeing this?" she gasped. "Are you watching me?" She turned back towards the camera, and slid both hands down into her crotch. The lather caught and built heavily in her pubic hair, and she panted heavily as she rubbed and caressed herself. Her dripping hip shapes shifted and her wet body shell twisted and writhed as she grunted and moaned under the pleasure. Her breathing now came in heavy pants, and the water droplets and soapy hollow skin that hovered in the forms of her thighs squeezed together around the lather mess in her crotch. "I'm so close," she gasped, and one soapy arm shell reached up to the shower handle and took it down from its anchor. The water switched from the simple multiple streams to a pulsing, pounding massage flow, and Joey's jaw dropped as she angled the handle up to her soapy face. The machine-gun spray of water bullets attacked her face, blasting the soap away into white shrapnel, and Tricia shrieked as the water enveloped her. She undulated and writhed as she pointed the pounding flows down her chest, and over her quivering, rippling breasts. Moaning and rubbing, she rocked as she washed the soap away, leaving nothing but drips, drops, and streams to define her form. "This is torture," Joey thought, and he fought a losing battle in keeping the camera steady. He was too busy trying to get his dick out of his pants now. She held the shower handle low, angled it into her crotch, and let out a cry of ecstasy as the pounding watery fingers assaulted her clitoris. Her knees went weak and she thrust herself against the wall, bracing herself and rubbing. Joey, now with his pants open and his underwear pulled down, stroked himself openly as he pulled the camera back capturing her performance. Water exploded from her crotch as she humped and squirmed and cried. The aqueous woman-shell arched her back and held the shower handle against her pussy with both hands, and started fucking it with a mad passion. She bucked. She bolted. And then she screamed. A fiery orgasm clearly ignited within her, and she cried and wailed as she drowned in ecstasy. Water erupted and blossomed from beneath her, and her cries dropped into whimpers of relief and submission. She dropped the handle. The droplet defined shape of her body leaned against the shower wall, and Joey could hear her panting and cooing with relaxation. The face, now a mere hint of three dimensional wetness, turned up to the camera and smiled with a deep contentment. The breast shells heaved with her breathing, and she coyly tilted her head and raised a finger, beckoning him closer. Joey slowly zoomed in on what he could see of her face, and she just smiled for several seconds, and winked. "Cut," she said breathlessly. Joey quickly stopped the camera, turned it off, and carefully set it aside, all while rubbing his erection. The water was still pulsing from the shower handle, and Tricia lay back, gasping against the wall. He turned back to her and just stroked himself, nearly as breathless as she was. There was a moment of nothing but silence as she just lay back and relished. "Well?" she asked. "How was that?" His knees were weak for her, and he leaned against the sink. "God damn, Tricia," he finally said through heavy breaths. "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen." The faint indigo shadow of his lover ran a hand across her face. "Thank you," she panted while basking in the afterglow. "Thank you so much, Joey. I needed this so much." He beamed. He was so proud of himself for giving this to her. "You're welcome. You know, I can't wait for you to see this video," he said. "It's amazing. I've never seen anything like..." "Joey?" she interrupted. "What time is it?" He looked around. "Um ... don't know. How long do we have the room?" "Is it after three?" He thought. "I think so. Yeah. Why?" She shakily pushed herself up, but still leaned against the shower wall. "Three o'clock on Friday. School is out. You're officially off suspension." She spread her legs. "So you're also not grounded anymore either. So finish taking your pants off, get over here, and fuck me." Joey didn't waste any time thinking about it. "Yes ma'am!" he eagerly cried as he kicked off his shoes and yanked off his pants. Tricia chuckled and spread her labia open for him. He climbed into the tub, grabbed her hips, and plunged deep inside her. ------- "You two just had sex!" It wasn't really that hard for Annie to figure out. They both had these really silly grins on their faces, flushed cheeks, glassy eyes, and they were over two hours late getting home. Tricia and Joey had both barely gotten inside and closed the door when Annie yelled at them. Scrappy was jumping all over Joey's leg, and he picked the dog up while Tricia swung her head around and smirked at her roommate. She was cradling her camera bag and leaned against the wall lazily. "I take it Betty isn't here then?" she joked. "Don't change the subject!" Annie barked back. "Joey's grounded! That was your rule, and now you've broken it. And you had the nerve to get all bayzer mentsh at me for fooling with him?" Joey carefully dealt with the happy struggling dog in his tender hands. "Actually, (ouch!, ouch!) she dropped the grounding," he explained, making his way to the living room. "Calm down, Scrappy!" The dog vigorously wiggled, wagged, and licked his hands, overjoyed to see him. Annie's eyes opened wide. "The grounding's dropped?" She desperately looked back and forth between Joey and Tricia, looking for a confirmation. Tricia nodded and smiled. "He made some good progress today." She then clutched the camera bag tight to her bosom and sauntered into the living room, strutting, oozing, and tracing a finger across his jawline. "Excellent progress, actually," she breathed. Annie stared at her roommates. "What did you do to her, Joey?" "Ummm..." he started, and stopped. Tricia pulled the camera out of the bag and kissed it gently. "He's all yours." Then with a swing in her hips she strode off to the bedroom, singing to herself. "La negra tiene tumbao ... Azuca! Azuca! ... Y no camina de lao!" Annie squinted at Tricia as she left, and then turned to Joey. "So what's with the camera? Did you two make a dirty movie?" Joey thought about it. "No. It was very clean," he decided. "You couldn't see anything, and we used plenty of soap." She scrunched her face at him in confusion, and he smiled, and sat down on the couch. Annie glanced at his hands and licked her lips. Her hand drifted to her sweater pocket. "So, um." she began, but saw him carefully rub his hands as he put the dog down. She frowned. "How are your hands doing?" He stretched his fingers and flexed them, groaning a bit. "They're still a little sore," he said. He caught her eyes darken and her face fall. "Oh," she said carefully. She wants to fly, he thought to himself. But she's not going to ask me when my hands hurt. And it would be nice to not do anything else tonight, and let them heal. And I am kind of tired. But Joey watched her sit and sigh, and he made a decision. "Not too sore," he amended, and he stood up. Annie's eyes flashed with hope, and she turned away. "No," she said, shaking her head. "Not while you're in pain. I don't want to..." "I do." She stared at him, her face twisting in conflicting emotions, and he held his bandaged hand to her. "Come on," he encouraged her. "I missed you. I look forward to this every day." Annie smiled brilliantly, and she literally sparkled as she took his hand and rose from her chair. Everyone has a secret desire, Joey reflected as she grabbed him and kissed him eagerly. Her warm lips and soft breasts pushed into him. Except Annie. Hers isn't a secret. They quickly attached the Velcro tether to their wrists as she bubbled with anticipation, and they moved out to the balcony. And what about me? Do I have a secret desire? No. It's this. Living in a home with people who love me. Nothing else matters. It's just good to have things back to normal again. He was proud of her happiness. Proud of Tricia's also. Annie was pulling on him the moment he pushed the full range of flying powers into her. "Where shall we go first?" she asked. She squeezed his hand a little too hard, and he winced in pain. "Um, how about Snow Angel's place? Maybe she can heal my hands?" "Actually, that's an excellent idea!" she said as they floated off the balcony, her force field extending around them. "She had to ditch me today because of a tenement fire, but she's probably home by..." THERE! Joey shrieked. Something monumental had caught his attention. It was like a laser hitting his soul, a pinpoint shot from a balcony in the building across the street, yanking at every fiber of his being. It was a simple flutter of movement in an apartment yet it teared at his mind and heart, ripping and pulling, demanding and compelling him beyond reason. "AHHH! ANNIE!" he screamed, reaching for the building, anxiously stretching his fingers towards it. "WAIT! PLEASE!" he pleaded. "What is it? What's wrong?" Joey was panicking and desperately stretched his hand towards the apartment building. "Please! That way! I saw..." "Saw what?" she asked as she floated downward. "Um!" His mind searched, stretched, and grasped at fragments of the momentary blinding desire. "I ... I don't know! Down there! Please!" She dropped them lower. "What did you see?" "I don't know. Something! I saw ... I don't know!" He was frantic. "Please! Lower! That apartment!" He pointed excitedly at a balcony. Annie cautiously drifted them lower to the balcony until they hovered outside the railing. Joey grabbed the railing and tried to pull himself over, which turned out to be difficult considering one hand was tethered to Annie. "Careful!" she said. "Don't let go of me!" She gripped him tightly. Her grip caused him some pain, but he paid it no attention. He was desperately peering inside the apartment. The curtains were open, but it was hard to see past the glare of the windows. Joey could barely make out the sparse furnishings and the abundantly decorated walls. A figure moved inside, catching his attention. He studied it, and the figure stopped. It paused, and then slowly came to the patio door. The door clicked and slid open, revealing a young tomboyish woman with short cropped brown hair, and glasses. "Hello?" she said somewhat confused. Her eyes, magnified by the glasses, darted up and down between their faces and their dangling feet. Joey considered the girl. She wasn't what he was looking for, that much he knew, so he peered past her, inspecting the apartment. The walls were covered with paintings, drawings, and murals. Sculptures and flower arrangements littered the tables. He scanned them all, desperately searching. "Umm..." Annie said cautiously, recognizing the awkwardness of the situation. "Hi!" she finally settled on. "I'm Annie, and this is Joey. We're your neighbors." "Um, hi?" the girl settled on. "I'm R ... Ramona." She glanced down at their feet again. "What's holding you up?" "Good intentions," Annie answered. "Joey? Can you see what you..." "Is there anyone else in there with you?" he blurted out, still peering behind her into the apartment. Ramona squinted at him, and turned to look back in her apartment. "Um, no. Why?" He sighed in disappointment. "I thought I saw..." Ramona cocked her head at him. "Saw what? Me?" Joey shook his head. "No. I don't know what it was." He looked back at the young woman. "Sorry," he said genuinely. "I didn't mean to bother you." He let go of the balcony, and pushed himself away. "Sorry," he said again. "Are you okay, Joey?" Annie asked. He paused, and shook his head. "I ... I don't know." Annie pulled him close and held him, and turned to Ramona. "Sorry about this. Nice to meet you. Lovely apartment, by the way. You do all that?" Ramona gave the apartment a brief glance and a quick smile back to Annie. "Yeah. I'm an artist. You know how it is." She shrugged. "Gotta work when the inspiration strikes." "Love to check it out sometime, but we have to go," she said back. She squeezed Joey's arm. "Joey? Why don't we head back home." He shook his head. "No, you want to fly. I need to let you fly..." "You're tired. And it's been a rough week for us all. Let's go home. We'll fly tomorrow." As the two drifted upward to their apartment, the girl watched them with a curious expression. Then she stepped back into her apartment, closed the door, and closed the curtains behind her. She blew out a long sigh, and her face relaxed into relief. The bedroom door opened. "Are they gone?" came a voice from the shadows inside. She sighed and nodded. "Yeah. Sorry about that. Maybe we shouldn't have gotten a place so close to them." "You know I needed a close place." answered the voice from the bedroom. She nodded again. "Yeah. I know." She shrugged her shoulders. "At least we know for certain now." "Keep those curtains closed, Renée." ------- Translation Guide: Annie's Yiddish is self-explanatory from the context, but Tricia's song has no context. "La negra tiene tumbao ... Azuca! Azuca! ... Y no camina de lao!" doesn't translate well through BabelFish. The result I got was something like "The girl has tumbao ... Azuca! Azuca! ... And isn't a lao!" You know, if it's going to give a translation like that, the least it can do is say something helpful like "Damned if I know. You're on your own." Speaking with my resident Spanish expert, we came up with the folowing interpretation: "The (black) girl has got the rhythm/style ... Sugar! Sugar! ... And she does it with pride." (lit. 'and she doesn't walk on her side', meaning she doesn't slouch.) ------- Chapter 15: Tunnels and Aspirations After a week of Joey's grounding, the weekend was a welcome relief. Annie helped Joey write his report on the TV talk show which Mr. Grimes had assigned, while Tricia spent several happy hours editing and color-correcting her video. Then she proudly showed it to her roommates. The three of them sat on their bed together and watched it on her laptop while sipping wine and cuddling together, and they all enjoyed it immensely. One thing kind of led to another, and eventually they got to sleep that night. Tricia posted "Invisigal" on an amateur sex site, and was euphoric as she watched the hit counter skyrocket over the weekend. Comments poured in, mostly consisting of glorious approval, praise, and reports of splooged monitors, and then they degenerated into accusations of poor special effects. "Fake!" "Obvious CGI/Mo-cap!" "You can see the wires!", "If she were invisible she would be blind!", and other complaints inflamed the praisers, and huge flame wars erupted in the forum. Annie successfully predicted the first Nazi reference in the forum within forty minutes and in celebration ordered a custom T-shirt that read "You know who else abused Godwin's Law? Hitler." Joey planned to put in extra time at the homeless shelter over the weekend, setting a goal of getting in a full twenty four hours in on top of the thirty two he already had since Tuesday, leaving him only twenty four hours in his obligations to finish over the rest of the week. Considering that he was also returning to school and wouldn't have as much time to work as he previously had, he figured he would still be able to finish off the hours by the end of the week. But the extra hours were more than just an opportunity to finish off his community service; it also gave him time to think about what it was he saw in the apartment across the street when flying with Annie. But thoughts of the mysterious apparition vanished on Saturday morning when a young and pretty blond girl came into the shelter, pulled Joey aside with her very cold hands, healed him, pecked him on the cheek with frosty lips, and then skipped out. Joey's hands were healthy and painless for the first time in a week, and he ran to show them to Tricia. She congratulated him and handed him a mop. ------- "The true measure of a man isn't what he's born with, but what he makes of himself" stated the hand-lettered sign. The handwriting was sloppy, and the tape which adhered it to the leaking refrigerator was yellowed and peeling. Food and grease stains had splattered the sign over the years, along with the walls, counters, and floor for good measure. Cockroaches and ants scurried and fed on the loose spills and crumbs which dotted the dingy kitchen. Other signs littered the walls. "One day at a time", "You are worthwhile", "Diamond in the rough", and other aphorisms feebly attempted to provide encouragement and support to the apartment's lone occupant. Over in the tiny living room, hunched over a wobbling folding table which was covered with a complex tangle of wires, battery packs, and servos was the owner of the signs. Arnold Baldwick was thirty-seven years old, short, balding, overweight and living alone in his first apartment after high school, and for that matter, was still in his first job after high school, working in a local hardware store owned by a family friend. "The measure of a man is what he makes of himself," he muttered to himself as he worked. Arnold lived by that motto, breathed it, and repeated it like a mantra as he soldered metal, tested connections, and studiously fiddled with the latest adaptations to his most prized possession. The connection was secure, and he delicately lifted the metal glove mechanism and slipped his hand inside. He switched the glove on and flexed his fingers. Servos whined, LEDs flashed, and fingers articulated, and he smiled at his accomplishment. Satisfied with his work, he turned the glove off and carried it lovingly to a large plastic tub which sat on his combination sofa/bed, and placed it in next to the other sections of the elaborate custom-designed technical armor: second glove, boots, shin guards, knee pads, tech belt, chestplate, laser headgear, and helmet. A second box carried the folded sections of the back unit, including the segmented tail and the multi-purpose wing-arms. He counted the pieces, making special notes of which parts required working power supplies. He checked the power strip plugged into the wall. Batteries were charging, and should be finished in time. The boxes took up most of the room on his sofa, but he managed to squeeze in next to one and pulled out his laptop. He checked the message again, and rubbed his crotch in anticipation. > > Subject: Looking for a Self-Made Man > > I see you're in town. Are you interested in a challenge? Ada > Subject: Re: Looking for a Self-Made Man > I'm always interested. Just name the time and place. You like it safe or dangerous? Subject: Re: Re: Looking for a Self-Made Man Safe/Dangerous makes no difference to me. Sunday, 2AM, Georgetown Reservoir parking lot. I'm bringing friends. Adamantine's forum avatar was a gorgeous tanned blond woman with big tits and long legs, and he licked his lips, imagining the possibilities with such a woman. Then he closed his computer and decided to take a shower, maybe even trim his pubes. He didn't know what was going to happen tonight, but he felt he should be prepared for anything. Arnold smiled as he headed for the bathroom. "Armory lives tonight," he said to himself, pulling his T-shirt off his hairy back. ------- The sedan pulled into the parking lot at Georgetown Reservoir, and sat in the darkness. It was nearly two in the morning, and the only other occupants in the parking lot were a dingy, dirty white van parked next to the small office building, and a lone homeless man wrapped in multiple layers, leaning against a large bent cardboard box next to a dumpster. Tombspawn pulled out a cellphone and checked the time. "He is late." Adamantine eyed the van. "Not necessarily. Let's check it out." The three stepped out of the car. Muscle unfolded his long limbs and grunted as he extracted himself from the back seat. As Adamantine strutted towards the lone van, Tombspawn noticed the homeless man and nodded to Muscle. The creature obeyed, and lumbered towards the man, eyeing him curiously. The monster grunted and softly kicked the man. The homeless man shifted and snored loudly, not waking or shifting from his position. Muscle cocked his head in puzzlement. Adamantine strode confidently towards the lone van, examining it. She saw it rock slightly on its suspension, and she stopped, balled her fists, and assumed a combat ready stance. She listened carefully. Thumps and scratches emanated from the interior. She waited, and Tombspawn watched closely. The side door slid open. Adamantine squinted and peered into the darkness of the van. Shadows moved, blinking colored lights shifted, and a large figure suddenly jumped out of the van. He landed with a unceremonious sloshing jostle of loose equipment strapped over looser belly flab. Calculators, dead printed circuit boards, painted styrofoam, and Velcro strips were strapped haphazardly around his short, flabby frame. He wore what looked like a silver colander with soldered-on kitchen appliances over his balding head, and a single red laser pointer was welded to one side and turned on, its feeble pencil beam ejecting from the cheap mass of trash and recyclables as if trying to escape it. A long segmented tail made of linked PVC tubing stretched behind him, supported by thin fishing wire lines which were strung from the two erect hollow aluminum tubes with blinking light bulbs. "I ... AM ... ARMORY!" he bellowed out. "AND I HAVE BEEN... CHALLEN-N-N-N-NGED!" He said this last word with a little too much vibrato. The three supervillains just stood and stared slack-jawed at the ridiculous man. Arnold struck a pose of might and power, which just looked silly on a short, fat man standing on construction stilts and wearing a homemade suit of techno-trash and robot-puke. He twisted his power glove at them and made a fist, the servos whining loudly and dramatically as the fingers flexed closed. "WHO CHALLENGES THE MIGHT AND POWER OF... ARMORY!!!" Tombspawn peered quizzically at the sham supervillain and wandered up to Adamantine, as Muscle lost interest in the man wearing the trash suit and poked at the sleeping homeless man again. "What is this?" Tombspawn asked impatiently. Adamantine face-palmed and shook her head in her hand. "Jesus H. Christ, deep-fried, and put on a stick," she cursed. "This is a waste of time," spat Tombspawn, and he reached in his pocket for his knife. "Let's just take him and move on." "YOU DOUBT POWER OF ARMORY? Arnold screeched. He took a couple heavy steps towards the two supervillains, and struck another pose. "THIS," he stressed in his best Shatner impression, "IS THE WORLD'S MOST..." He paused, trying to remember his words. "ADVANCED ... TECHNOLOGICALLY?..." He frowned, trying to recall the word that he really needed to say, and decided he had said it already. "IN THE WORLD!" he concluded. Adamantine touched Tombspawn's cold arm, holding him back. "No. I'll handle this," she said. "This is all part of the process, unfortunately." She plastered on a smile and sashayed towards the little man in his homemade costume. "Oh, no," she oozed. "I would NEVER consider doubting Armory's power." She strutted around him, licking her lips, letting him get a good long look at her curves and cleavage in her tight tank-top, leather jacket, shorts and bare legs and feet. She traced a finger around his costume, across the chestplate with the plastic models and blinking lights glued onto it. Arnold/Armory turned awkwardly around as she circled him. "You are quite a piece of work, aren't you?" she asked. Arnold grinned back at her, getting into the play. "I am," he boasted. "I am all this. You challenged me." He frowned. "And MORE!" he added suddenly. "I am all this, and MORE!" He pointed his mechanical finger at the beautiful woman. "You issued the challenge. I accept!" Adamantine cocked her head and touched her finger to her lips. "Yeah, about that. I didn't actually issue you a challenge," she confessed. Arnold looked at her with puzzlement and disappointment. "Let me explain this to you in simple terms," she said. Before he had a chance to react, Adamantine spun and fan-kicked his mechanical hand. The bare invulnerable foot connected to the mass of servos, wires, and metal, and shattered it. Arnold screamed in pain as the twisted metal cut into his hand, and she dropped and punched her fist into his chestplate. Styrofoam, plastic, metal, and wires exploded from the destroyed armor, and he staggered backwards and fell, crushing the cheap backpack, ripping fishing wires, and twisting the aluminum tubes. He scrambled, trying to upright himself, but Adamantine jumped on top of him, With two swipes of her hands she knocked the aluminum tubes off his back, sending them scattering across the parking lot pavement. She pinned him down on his back, straddling over him, her knees pressing down into his weak, flabby arms, and her crotch over his chest. She ripped the colander off his head and grabbed his throat with both hands. Arnold gasped and kicked, struggling underneath the savage girl, and she slapped him hard in the face. "OW! Too hard!" he whined. She slapped him again. "Shut up!" Arnold shook his head. "We haven't got a..." "What? A safe word?" she asked. "You think I need one?" Arnold struggled and kicked, trying to get the girl off him. She slapped him again. "Stop it!" she ordered. He ignored it, still struggling under her. Adamantine sighed, grabbed his ear, and pulled, turning his head to the side. Then she slammed her bare fist straight into the pavement, breaking a chunk of concrete in front of his eyes with a loud CRACK that silenced him. Arnold stopped and gasped. She pulled his head back and forced him to stare at her. "This..." she said, clenching her fist at him. " ... is real." She waited for the look of horror to spread over his eyes. "We're not fakes, or wannabes, or role-players. We're the real thing." She grabbed his collar with both hands. "You see, we need ways to communicate with each other, ways that the authorities can't find, and that's where you losers come in. You see, for every one of us there are dozens of creeps like you who just like to play supervillain on the weekend, have your little 'challenges'..." She used air-quotes. " ... as an excuse to play-fight and get laid by the other losers who are the only ones who'll have you, and we use you. We hide in plain sight, using your sex forums as a place to communicate. I didn't come here to see you. I came here to see the REAL Armory. You know? The one who hacked your Super-play account? The one who put his encoded tag in your avatar image?" Arnold turned pale. "Where is he?" she asked sweetly. Arnold swallowed and shook his head. "I don't know," he said desperately. "I didn't know!" Adamantine sighed, and caressed his cheek with her invulnerable fingers. "That's too bad," she said sadly. "I don't like being disappointed." "Please," he pleaded. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he started sobbing. "I didn't mean any harm. I don't know anything about him. Please! I'm nobody to you. Please don't hurt me." She pouted her lips as she considered the blubbering man. "Oh, but here's the issue. Now that you know how we work, we can hardly let you go with that information." Arnold was crying. "Please. Please don't. I won't tell anyone. I promise!" She slipped her hands around his neck. "Nothing personal," she explained. She started to squeeze, and the man bucked and writhed under her, feebly trying to escape her iron grip. He gasped and wheezed, and struggled helplessly against her strength. "Don't hurt him," came a new voice. Adamantine, Tombspawn, and Muscle all turned towards the voice. It came from the homeless man sitting next to the building. The man shifted and raised his head, peering out from under his hat brim. Muscle growled and reached one meaty hand to the rag-wrapped man, but the man reacted instantly, quickly grabbing the monster's hand in a powerful grip. Muscle jerked backward, and the man rose, lifting his heavy frame and the box behind him in one smooth motion. The box came up with him as if connected to his back. It buckled and shifted, betraying the presence of living, moving objects within it. The cardboard ripped. Huge blades extended from the top as four razor-sharp pincers punctured the bottom, and the entire box split apart as the two multi-function arms and the mechanical tail erupted and stretched out, reducing the box to shreds. Muscle growled, roared, and swung one mighty arm at the homeless man. One of the mechanical arms caught it, blocking the blow and then threw the monster aside easily. Muscle crashed into the ground, rolled, and flopped, more confused than hurt. The man then took off his hat, revealing chrome steel embedded in his skull, and a single gleaming green laser shining from his right eye. "Call off your dog," the real Armory rasped to Tombspawn. "I'm here to talk." Tombspawn leaned on his cane and studied the cyborg. "Muscle. Stand down," he commanded. The behemoth growled, got back on his feet, and lumbered back to his master. Armory scanned the area, twisting his body left and right, the massive wing-arms shifting and tail twitching, and then he leaped into the air. He rebounded loudly against Arnold's dingy van, shaking it with the impact, and dropped into a crouch next to Adamantine and the blubbering counterfeit. "Get off of him!" he barked at Adamantine. Adamantine glared at him, and in return he raised one massive wing-arm and pointed it at the woman. It throbbed and whined with a power build, and the claws opened up. The bulbous emitter glowed with energy, and she carefully considered what Armory was capable of doing. She didn't think he could actually hurt her, but he could easily rip up her new clothes, and the entire point of showing up was to recruit him, so she decided to back off. She released her death-grip on Arnold's neck. The man under her took in a desperate gasping breath of air, and she stood up. She held up her hands. "Okay," she said, backing away. "You want to do it? Fine." Armory crawled on his wing-arms and legs, like some massive metallic scorpion towards the blubbering, wheezing man. Arnold panicked, and tried to scramble to his feet, but could only awkwardly roll and shift on the ground. The construction stilts on his feet made it difficult for him to get up. The cyborg stood erect, folding the large arms behind him, and stood over the man. He extended a hand down to him. "Get up," he commanded. "P-p-p-please Mr. Armory!" Arnold stuttered, crawling and shifting away from him. "Please don't hurt me!" "I won't," replied the supervillain, still extending a hand down to the man. "Please. Stand." The other three supervillains stood off to the side, watching this performance. Tombspawn squinted in puzzlement, and leaned in to Adamantine. "What is he..." he quietly started to ask. "Wait for it," she whispered back. She was watching Armory's tail as it swung slowly behind him. "I don't want to die! I didn't mean anything!" wailed the man. "I just want to go home!" "I understand," replied Armory. "And I have no quarrel with you. Stand, please." The realization that he was not going to die immediately slowly seemed to dawn on Arnold, and he stared at the metal hand offered to him. It was a powerful, gleaming, robotic appendage of the finest craftsmanship he had ever seen. The articulated fingers fascinated him, and his eyes followed the wires and hydraulics up the metal arm, across the massive barrel-chest armor until he looked up at the tough face with the scars and embedded metal. One eye radiated green in an indifferent, molecular brilliance. But the other was human, and showed compassion. The supervillain gave him the slightest of smirks. "I have no intention of hurting you," he said calmly. "Please." Arnold looked up at the mechanical man through shaking, watery tears. There was a glimmer of hope in his eyes. He hesitantly reached up and took the supervillain's hand. He knew that hand could crush his, slice his fingers off, or grind the bones into powder, so he carefully touched the finger, and pressed down, pushing his weight on it. It didn't budge, and Armory helped the man stand up. "There," the cyborg said as Arnold got back to his feet. "No harm?" Arnold trembled before the supervillain. "Um, no..." He looked like he didn't know exactly who the 'No harm' was referring to, and he wiped his eyes. Armory smiled. "Good." He reached out and brushed some dirt off the man's shoulders. Arnold cringed in fright at the touch. "It would not have done anyone any good if you got hurt." The man looked puzzled as he digested that, as well as terrified. He cautiously looked back at the supervillain. "Can I ... Can I go home now?" The cyborg nodded. "Of course." Arnold's eyes opened wide in surprise, and Armory lifted two fingers. "Two things though." "What?" he asked in terror. "First, do a better job on your armor. If you're going to imitate me, at least do me the honor and take some pride in your work." Arnold just stood there, trembling, and he nodded. Adamantine watched and grinned as she saw Armory's tail rise high above their heads, its claws open wide and spinning slowly. "Okay..." he finally said. "I'll ... I'll try to um..." "Second," the cyborg said. "She was right." Arnold squinted in puzzlement. "I can't let you go knowing what you know." There was a moment of silence. Arnold stared at the supervillain, trying to figure out what was happening, when he heard a movement above him. He looked up and saw the open claw of Armory's tail hanging above his head, ready to strike. "Nothing personal," the cyborg added. The tail suddenly surged down, its claws open wide, and it clamped over the poor man's head. Arnold screamed and lashed as the appendage pulled and jerked, holding him steady. Electricity flared. Tongues of lightning sparked between the metal fingers, and Arnold spasmed and gurgled as the supervillain held him and fried his brain. A deep thrumming sound emerged from the bulbous tail, and Arnold stopped thrashing, and just hung limply in the grip of the metal claw, twitching and drooling. "You will forget what you learned tonight," commanded Armory. Arnold made no response. His eyes just rolled back into his head. "You came to this place looking for a girl. You found her. She was dressed as Quantum Knight, and was more beautiful than what you could ever expect. You did your play fight, and she destroyed your armor in the process. You both then went to your van and pleasured each other. You satisfied her beyond measure." Adamantine raised an eyebrow as she watched this performance. "After you finished," he continued, "she told you to rebuild your armor. More electronics. More lights. More sounds. More details. You are not to contact her. She will contact you, and will bring a girlfriend with her next time." Arnold's only response was to let out a stream of drool. The claw released his head, and Arnold slumped forward. Armory caught him, cradled him, and carried him into his van. He gently placed him inside. Adamantine clapped her hands together slowly and sarcastically. "Well, what do you know? The tin man has got a heart after all," she said loudly to him. Armory turned slowly and stared at the other three. A vicious smile spread over his lips. "Clever, girl," he hissed. "We four do look like we just emerged from an L. Frank Baum nightmare. But no, this was not heart. It was simple economics. This one is valuable to me." He closed the van door and turned back to them. "So tell me, Dorothy. Looking for a new home?" He gestured to Tombspawn. "Scarecrow there the brains of your little operation?" He glanced at Muscle. "Your lion short on courage?" Muscle growled under his breath. Tombspawn spoke. "You will find that my creation will not be afraid what man can do unto him. I did not give to him the spirit of fear." He stepped forward. "But you are right about me." Armory and Tombspawn stared each other in the eyes, while Adamantine scoffed impatiently and folded her arms over her chest. She checked her nails. "Here's the deal, guys. Yours is dead, and yours if it wasn't chopped off like all the rest of you is now prehensile. Now stick them back in your pants and let's talk." The cyborg scowled. "You said something about a challenge?" Tombspawn nodded. "Is there someplace private we can speak?" Armory scanned Tombspawn's attire and smiled. "Of course. If you don't mind ruining your suit. Follow me." ------- "WHERE ARE YOU?" Joey screamed. The dream had started in school. He was in class taking a test. Some questions he knew, like where to find fresh toothbrushes or used clothes. Those were easy. But for the questions he didn't know, like dates and presidents, Simon would lean over and whisper the answer to him. But then the big question came, and when he saw it, he knew Simon didn't have the answer either. "Are you Science, Magic, Cosmic, or Mutation?" There was simply no answer. He knew. He had been tested thoroughly. Doctor Booth had tested him, the hospital tested him, and then he was tested again by EarthGuard. He had been seen by three mages, had four blood tests, met every known Cosmic hero, and had full body scans. No one could find anything. There were no mutant catalyst genes, no residual radiation or atypical organs, no extra-dimensional influences, and no special recognition from other Cosmics. It was as if he had his powers naturally. "I know what you are," said a new voice next to him. Joey spun towards the new voice, but only saw the back of a figure just as that person left the room. He jumped from his desk and ran after the person. "STOP! WAIT!" he called after whoever it was. Out the door, down the hallway, around the corner, through the double doors, down another hallway, he ran through stairwells and access corridors, deeper and deeper into the darkest bowels of the school. The school apparently had a vast subterranean complex filled with machine rooms, storage facilities, and mazes of corridors and walkways. The figure always managed to stay ahead of him, and he sprinted down the hallways, shouting and calling to the receding shadow. He lost the person inside what looked like an underground aircraft hanger. "WHERE ARE YOU?" he screamed in frustration. His voice echoed alone in the concrete and metal cavern. "Who are you looking for?" asked Sophia. Joey glanced back and saw her just standing there. "Don't know," he answered, not really concerned with her sudden appearance. "Someone. Someone with the answer." Sophia chewed her lips. "I was afraid of this," she muttered. He took off, running down a set of metal stairs, his footsteps clanging loudly with his desperation. "Joey, wait," she said, trying to stop him. He ignored her, running past her again and down another level of stairs. She appeared again in front of him, stopping him. "Joey. You're not going to find her this way. If she doesn't want to be found, she won't be found. Best if you just let her go." Joey stared at her. "Her? You know it's a woman? You know who she is?" She hesitated. "No, I'm just assuming." She shrugged and grinned. "It's always a woman giving you trouble, isn't it?" He sighed and resignedly sat on the stairs, holding his face in his hands. "I was so close." "It's okay, Joey. You'll find out eventually." She looked about expectantly. "Why don't we go outside for a..." "No! It's not okay!" he shouted at her. He stood up and glared at her. "And who are you to say that it is? Look at me! You tell me. What am I? Mutant? Wizard? Cosmic? Nobody knows! I don't even know what I am! You don't know what that's like!" "We all go through this," Sophia started. "Great, but I don't see any reason for it!" He stomped off and paced. "I mean, what's the point of the mystery, huh? Why can't I know what I am? Do you know what it's like to..." He grasped the air, trying to find the concepts. " ... to feel like there's some huge reason why you're here, but you don't know what it is? To not know why you're different from everybody else? It's like, there's this huge part of me that's missing, you know?" Sophia watched him, and she gripped the handrails of the stairs and sat down. "There are worse things than not knowing what you are here for," she said. "Like what?" he challenged. She looked at him critically. "Like knowing exactly what you are here for." He stared and blinked. "What is that supposed to mean?" "It means..." she sighed. "It means that if you really have a purpose, if some higher power has made you and has plans for you, there are two things that can happen. Either you don't manage to do what you are supposed to do, at which point you are a failure, or you succeed at what you are supposed to do, at which point you are then useless. Finding out and knowing why you are here, why you are gifted the way you are, limits what you can be." Her gaze fell to the floor. "Sometimes a purpose is so small, you wonder if you were chosen because God knew that you wouldn't be able to handle anything else." She paused and looked back up at him. "It's like those actors in movies who play the bit parts. They go into the movie knowing all they have to do is convincingly sell a hot dog to the hero of the story. Once they've sold that hot dog, they're done. They aren't needed anymore." Joey watched her carefully, and saw a wave of depression wash over her. "So, you know the reason you're here, and whatever it is, it's not enough, right?" She nodded. "It's all about worth. How much is a person worth? When you find out you're part of some grand design, some purpose, what you're really getting is a message that says... 'You are worth THIS much. No more.' And maybe that amount looks large when you first see it, but after awhile, you realize you can be so much more. And the rest of the message, 'You are not worth THAT much, ' comes in clear." Her eyes fell down to the floor again, and Joey just stood there, watching her and reflecting. "Why are you here?" he asked. "What are you supposed to do?" "To find you," she answered, and looked back up at him. "To teach you." "Teach me what?" Sophia stared at him for a moment, inhaled deeply, and stood up. "You're getting lucid. Let's go for a walk. I want to go outside." She walked over to a wall. "No, I want to..." "Don't worry about it," she said, and she touched the bare metal wall. Blue sparks emitted from her hand, and the wall violently exploded outwards. Joey flinched, and saw the huge ripped hole in the metal and concrete now revealed a green valley, blue skies, and a golden sun. Sophia held her hand out to him. "Come on," she coaxed. "Let's go outside." Joey cautiously took her hand, and they stepped out into the sunlight. A warm breeze caressed his skin, and ruffled her hair and dress. The fresh, salty air of the sea filled his lungs. "You make sparks," he said. "Yes." "Like me." She nodded. "Yes, like you." They walked through the green grass, up a hill, and crested it. In the distance lay a calm blue bay with sailing boats and seagulls. A boardwalk bordered the beach, filled with colorful shops and vendors. The alluring scent of fresh french fries beckoned, and they walked hand-in-hand down the boardwalk past lovers and families. "So what are you teaching me?" Joey pressed. Sophia smiled. "What do you think?" "About my powers?" "That's part of it." "And what's the other part about?" She coyly turned her head, her long red tresses catching the sea breeze. Joey saw the way her dress billowed and loosened about her body, giving him glimpses of her soft curves and alluring figure. "Tell me about your day," she said. "How are you and Tricia getting along?" "Better," he answered. "We made up on Friday, and the grounding is over." He paused for a moment. "I understand what I did wrong now. She was right. I shouldn't have hurt them." She smiled. "Good for you." They walked a bit as she reflected. "Does Tricia have any abilities that she's hiding?" Joey frowned. "Why do you ask?" "Just curious." "No, she's normal," he said carefully. "Except when I give her powers. Then she's stronger than anyone else on the planet." "Probably because you're so close to each other, and she's so strong-willed," Sophia concluded. She cocked her head at him. "Any powers in her family though?" "What's it to you?" he stopped and turned to her, challenging her. "I was just wondering." "Well, I'm wondering too. Like who are you and what can you do?" Sophia stared at him and she chewed her lips. "This is not going well." She turned towards one of the boardwalk vendors. A man in a brightly striped shirt and bow tie was running a contest. Stuffed bears decorated his booth. "Knock down the pins! Three balls for a dollar! Win a prize!" the carnie barked. "You sir! Care to win a prize for your lady?" "Come on!" she coaxed him. "Win me a bear. Make me feel special." She reached into her cleavage and produced a dollar bill. "He'll try it," she said to the man as she handed him the bill. Joey just stood off to the side and glared at her. "No, I won't," he said defiantly, and he stormed off. "Joey! Wait!" Sophia cried out to him, but he just ignored her, heading off the boardwalk and back into the grassy field. "Please! Stop!" She ran after him, but he picked up his pace, striding faster and angrily away. She repositioned herself in front of him. "Where are you going?" "Away from you," he growled. "I don't like being used. I don't like being controlled." "I'm not trying to control you or use you, Joey." she said softly. "But you won't tell me who you are, or what you are. You're trying to teach me something, but you won't tell me what it is. That's controlling." "Joey," she pleaded, "I want to tell you everything, and I will, but I can't. Not yet. But please believe me, I'm not trying to control you." He shook his head. "If you're not going to be honest with me, I don't want to see you again." And he stormed off again. "Joey! JOEY! I ... IT'S LOVE, JOEY." She shouted. He stopped and turned back. "I need to teach you about love," she confessed. "Love?" She nodded and walked up to him. "Love," she answered warmly. "Didn't you already teach me that? 'I like you and find you interesting.' Remember?" "That is just how to break the ice, but there is so much more. Joey, you know your powers only work on those you love. Well it's more than that. You need to know about love." "And you think I can't figure it out myself?" She shook her head. "I'm not saying that. I just need to make sure you learn, and learn soon." Joey looked at her, carefully studying the beautiful woman. She was a ginger beauty, fair skinned and lightly freckled, with radiant flaming red tresses and piercingly deep blue eyes and luscious lips. His eyes dropped down, taking in her body. Full breasts and hips, tight stomach, and long legs showed through the billowing loose blue dress which rippled in the wind. Her freckled cleavage and smooth, bare shoulders tempted him. He looked back up into her eyes again and scowled at her. "If you're trying to seduce me, you suck at it!" "I'm not trying to seduce you," she said matter of factly. "I'm trying to teach you." "I can figure it out myself." He turned and walked away. "You too late anyways!" he yelled, storming off. "I already know where the clitoris is." "I'm not talking about physical pleasure," she called back to him. "I'm talking about emotional..." "GO AWAY!" He took a few more steps, and stopped. He felt rotten. She was only trying to help, he realized. She wanted to feel special, be useful. He turned around to apologize, but she was gone. ------- They followed him, travelling the sewers. Armory led them down and down, through the deep, putrid, stinking labyrinth, illuminating their path by casting light from his wing-arms. Adamantine, Tombspawn, and Muscle followed behind. Adamantine wore shorts and no shoes, and the shit simply slid off her bare feet and legs, so she had no problems. Tombspawn however had removed his shoes and socks, and had rolled up the legs of his trousers to protect them. Despite the indignity of the path, he sloshed determinedly along, showing no emotion while stepping in fetid piles and rank water. Muscle trailed behind closely, carrying Tombspawn's shoes. "Here," Armory said, as they reached a door to a utility room. He opened the door and folded his arms and tail down, allowing him to squeeze in through the small opening. He flicked a switch, and the phosphorescent lights staggered and blinked into life, illuminating a workroom filled with tables, power tools, cables, and the carcasses of many dead machines. Chrome, wires, servos, relays, printed circuit boards, and other debris littered the tables. Power lines hung from the ceiling. "Make yourself at home." Adamantine and Tombspawn looked about the small workroom. There was nothing to sit on. Tombspawn gestured to Muscle, and the creature sat on the floor, and started wiping the muck from his master's grey legs. Adamantine shrugged, shoved some techno-debris off the corner of a table, and sat on it. The cyborg opened a small refrigerator and pulled out a canned protein shake. He opened it by punching one finger in the top, and started gulping it down. "Got any beer?" asked Adamantine. Armory's tail slipped into the refrigerator and extracted a brown bottle. He tossed the bottle to her. She caught it, checked the label, approved it, and flicked the cap off with her thumb. "Cheers," she said, and took a swig. "And for you?" Armory asked. "Nothing," answered Tombspawn. Armory shut the refrigerator. "You spoke of a challenge. Let's talk." He looked between Adamantine and Tombspawn, waiting to see which one would speak. Adamantine tilted her head towards her partner. "It's your insane plan. You tell him." Tombspawn looked down at his servant. "Replace my shoes," he instructed the creature. As Muscle grunted and clumsily fitted the shoes on his master's feet, Tombspawn turned to the metal man. "I seek power," he said, casually adjusting his cufflinks. Armory shrugged. "Power I have. I need money." "I have some money, but the ultimate power I seek would make money pointless." "You got the wrong guy then. I'm not that powerful." Tombspawn studied the cyborg. "I seek allies to take out the four local EarthGuard heroes. I think you have that power." Armory took another swig from his protein shake. "Big job. Why do you need them removed?" "Do you think you can do it?" "Most of them," replied the cyborg. "I have been studying them. Multiplex is the simplest. His cloning abilities fail within a few meters of a strong enough electromagnetic field." He flipped his articulated metal tail up, and bolts of lightning discharged between the claws. "If I get close enough to him, he's dead." Tombspawn nodded. "That is acceptable." "Bullwhip is easy as well," Armory added. "He prefers close combat and uses a loose leather armor. He can stop bullets with that leather armor, but only if he's ready for them. I figure a single shot coming in from a direction he's not expecting should take him out." "I don't want him dead," Adamantine said. "The others I don't care about, but I want Bullwhip alive." The others stared at her. "Why alive?" asked Armory. "Because," she answered, checking her nails, and not offering anything else. "Is there a way to knock him out?" The cyborg smiled. "Bullets are cheaper, but a nerve toxin should do it. I can make one. But I will need to add a new deployment system to my equipment." He extended one giant arm outward. "It would take some time, but I can do it." She shook her head. "No need for all that. We're on a tight schedule. As long as you just keep him distracted and provide the toxin, I'll take the shot. I'm good enough." "What about the others?" Tombspawn asked. "Snow Angel?" "She would be difficult," said Armory. "She is immensely powerful. I would have to make major modifications to my weapons just to take her individually, enough changes to make myself vulnerable against the others. Heat generators and flame throwers to weaken the ice she throws. It would be expensive. And even if I make the modifications and take her alone instead of in a group, if she manages to ice down my arms, the game is over. Our best bet would be to take her by surprise, or capitalize on her weakness for caring for the injured." "That is unfortunate," said Tombspawn. "Perhaps there is another nearby that we can recruit." "Snow Angel is not going to be a problem," declared Adamantine. "How so?" asked Armory skeptically. "I don't think a nerve toxin would affect her, and she heals from bullets pretty quickly. You think you can fight her?" She lifted one long bare leg on the table and studied it. "Don't have to. The simplest solution is to not fight her at all. Just get her out of the area." She squinted as she ran her hand over her leg, feeling the skin. "I know the girl is dealing with a personal problem. She's looking for someone, and doesn't know who it is. All it takes is one phone call from a supposed ex-lover on the other side of the country, and she's out of our hair for hours. Long enough for us to finish what we start." She looked up at the cyborg. "That just leaves Quantum Knight. Heard you got into a fight with her and had to run. Is she too much?" "She is dangerous," he admitted. "But I only left because I got what I was looking for." "And what were you looking for?" Tombspawn asked. "Her," replied Armory. He turned to a computer monitor and switched it on. "I have been researching the Quantum Knight for some time now. She thinks I am here for the Omega Boy, but I have been curious to know how her powers work. Why is it no camera can focus on her? I decided to explore it, and discovered something interesting." The monitor brightened, and showed several pictures of Quantum Knight. "Sometimes they can." Adamantine blinked in amazement and Tombspawn raised an eyebrow as they saw the first clear photos of Quantum Knight they had ever seen. "Whoah..." she said. "Girl's got some tits." "I have never seen her so clearly before," said Tombspawn. "How did you obtain these?" Armory smiled and flipped through several pictures. "Cameras will always lose their focus on her, but only after 100 milliseconds. If she is unlucky enough to teleport into the field of focus, there is a brief glimpse." He turned towards the others. "100 milliseconds is human reaction time. I believe this is a conscious ability. But let me show you the interesting part." He tilted his head, and more pictures appeared. Windows opened, resized, and moved. Adamantine noticed the computer mouse resting untouched on the table. "Here she is in 2001, and here she is again in 2009," said the cyborg. "Different costume, different name, more training, more weapons, but the same abilities." The pictures adjusted. Grids appeared wrapped over the figures and objects in the picture. "I wondered if it may be a different woman, so I ran a volume and mass analysis on the figures. And I discovered something fascinating. She is nine percent larger." Adamantine squinted at the images. "So ... it's a different woman, or she gained weight?" "No. It's the same woman. She is just nine percent larger." "What do you mean?" asked Tombspawn. "I mean her proportions are identical. Relative finger lengths, teeth dimensions, and bone sizes; These things are perfectly identical. All of the inter-body ratios are the same, but none of the lengths between one year and the other match. Every dimension is precisely nine percent larger." He turned to the others. "This is not a woman who gained weight through exercise and increased muscle mass. Her skeleton is larger." "So..." Adamantine coaxed. "She has the power to change her size. Her body has expanded." "Great," she scoffed. "And how does that help us?" Armory turned towards the woman. "The more you know about your enemy, the easier it is to defeat her." He took another drink from his protein shake and stepped towards a work table. "In 2008 she fought an old acquaintance of mine, Doctor Photronix. I designed and built his primary weapons, including a flash rifle that emitted high intensity light at three precise wavelengths: 430, 544.5, and 572 nanometers. These are the three wavelengths that human retinal cone cells are most sensitive to." He picked up a disassembled weapon and examined it. "It was designed to permanently blind anyone exposed to it. And it worked. Every person he fired the weapon on became blind." He turned to the others. "Everyone except Quantum Knight." "She wears goggles," said Adamantine. "She did not that day," said Armory. "He hit her with the weapon, and it did blind her, but only for a few minutes. She recovered, and seems to have suffered no long-term ill effects. And now I know why. He hit her with the wrong wavelengths." He placed the weapon back on the table. "She has expanded her size, probably to make herself appear more intimidating. I theorized this means her retinal cone cells are also larger, and react to longer wavelengths. So I tested her." He picked up another piece of equipment, a circuit board with a speaker attached. "I took control of a downtown office building and filled it with attack drones that all produced test sounds at different frequencies. Then I forced her to engage these drones. She found and destroyed them all, but there were two special circumstances I was checking." Armory turned on the circuit board, and a loud, high-pitched squeal rattled Adamantine's and Tombspawn's ears. They cringed at the intrusive noise, and he shut it off. "She did not hear that sound. The drone emitting that sound managed to attack her." He flipped a switch. "But she heard this one." Tombspawn and Adamantine heard nothing, but Muscle covered his ears and roared angrily. Armory switched off the device. "That sound was infrasonic. Too low for normal ears to detect. But she heard it. Quantum Knight's body had expanded. Her inner ear, her cochlea, had expanded, becoming insensitive to short wavelengths, and sensitive to longer wavelengths. I theorize if her cochlea have expanded, so have her retinal cones." The tail picked up a half-assembled weapon and carried it to his hands. "She is now vulnerable to 469, 593.5, and 623.5 nanometers. With a modified weapon, I can take her out, permanently." He looked at Tombspawn seriously. "But I will need money and time to finish the weapon." Tombspawn nodded. "If you had the money, how much time will you need?" "A week." "How much money?" Armory shrugged. "Twenty grand should cover it." Tombspawn glanced at his servant. "Then we will have to collect more. It will not take long." He returned his gaze to the cyborg. "I believe we have a deal." Armory scowled at him. "Not yet." He put the unassembled weapon down. "You didn't answer my question. What are you after? Why would it be worth my time and risk?" Adamantine sighed and waited, and returned to exploring her bare legs as Tombspawn collected his thoughts. The resurrected supervillain scanned the room, and grinned slyly. "I see that you craft servants as well." Muscle growled, and Armory glanced at him. "You made him?" Tombspawn nodded. "Yes. Out of two fit homeless men who have not been missed," he said as he walked through the room, casually exploring the equipment. "But as pleased as I am with this creation, I believe I can do better. Are you familiar with the old feminist joke of why God created man before woman?" Armory shook his head. "No. Why did He?" "One always creates a rough draft before making the final masterpiece." Muscled grunted angrily at that, and Armory stared at the creature. The cyborg's lips curled upward and he laughed loudly. He jumped to the ceiling and hung from the support bars from his wing arms and tail. Spider-like, he crawled across the ceiling towards the huge zombie, giggling and laughing. "So!" he laughed. "Is Frankie going to get a bride? Is that what you're after?" Tombspawn watched the cyborg cooly. "A bride? Hardly. Why make a woman, when I can make a goddess?" Armory dropped with a heavy thud and stared curiously at the creature. "A goddess? What do you mean? What are you planning?" "You know about the Omega Boy?" The cyborg turned and frowned at Tombspawn. "You're going to use him?" "Not just him. Consider the two women who are attuned to his abilities. Just imagine what I can do with all three bodies. Two women, and one boy, all combined into one perfect being. A blending of the indomitable willpower and passion of Patricia Sanchez, the brilliance and acumen of MENSA member Annette Freidman, and the immeasurable power of Joseph Harper, the Omega Boy. A being capable of bestowing upon itself any imaginable ability, fueled by the strength of great passion and magnified by the mental agility of a genius. A creation of infinite power and strength. Limitless, unkillable, unstoppable, and under my control." Armory considered it. "Ambitious. I like it! But do you think it will work? Doesn't he need to be able to..." He face screwed up in distaste over the word he had to use next. " ... Love ... them for his abilities to work? Can he actually love after you kill them?" Tombspawn studied his cane. "If he cannot, and it doesn't work, I will have simply killed off the son of my jailer, extracting my revenge, and will have removed a great thorn from our sides. But as I was escaping prison, my coroner asked something of great interest after I broke his neck. He asked me if I had plans to attack his wife." The cyborg frowned. "Which means..." Tombspawn nodded. "Love survives death. So it will work." ------- Chapter 16: Symmetry and Homework A glowing line sprouted from the center of the design, stretched past the inner circle, and into the outer transformative balance. It touched the symbol for the void. Lady Zamora raised an eyebrow, and watched as the line pulsed and throbbed. "The mathematical transformations begin," she observed. "Zero to one." ------- Monday morning. Joey was sitting in the car clutching his backpack. He was dressed, ready to go, and was now just sitting and willing himself to open the door. "Well?" Tricia asked. He took a deep nervous breath. "Okay, I'm scared," he confessed. She nodded. "Did you want to stay home today?" He shook his head. "No. I need to do this. I can't let them think I'm scared." Tricia sighed. "Don't try to be a hero. Just ... If they bother you, go to the teachers. Stay close to your friends. Are you going to apologize to them?" He took another deep breath. "Yeah." "Good for you. I love you." She kissed him on the forehead. "Love you too." He opened the car door. "You have your phone? Quantum Knight on speed-dial?" she asked as he got out of the car. He felt in his pocket. "Yeah." "First sign of trouble, ANY trouble, you use it! Okay?" He nodded. "Okay." "Good luck. Give me a call later, okay?" "I will." Joey took another deep breath to steady his nerves, and clutching his notebook and backpack, walked up the front steps to his school. "I'm sorry", he rehearsed in his mind. "I'm sorry that you made me have to kick your asses." No. She's right. I have to stop this fight, not grind it in their faces. But if I do this, they'll just call me a wuss. They'll think I'm backing down. No, this isn't backing down. It's being mature. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you. But you forced me to." No. They didn't force me. That was my fault. Mr. Grimes is right. The first of us to apologize will be the bravest of us. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you. I shouldn't have done that." His fingers were shaking as he reached for the front door. Here goes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have hurt you." He took one final deep breath, pulled the front door open, and walked into school. And straight into thunderous applause. "GO JOEY!" "YEAH!" "ALL RIGHT!" "WAY TO GO!" "WOOOOOO!" It looked like just about every other student in the school was there in the front hallway waiting for him, and they cheered and applauded and screamed in his honor as his jaw dropped. Boys came up and grabbed his hand, shaking his and slapping him on the back, congratulating him. Girls he didn't even know came up and hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. Little kids hugged him. They peppered him with compliments and questions. "That was awesome man!" "Good for you!" "They deserved it, man!" "Were you scared?" "Is it true you took all three of them?" "Did it really take Quantum Knight to stop you?" "Please," Joey said, trying to push through the crowd of admirers. "It wasn't that..." "Man, you kicked ASS!" "You GO Joey!" "God! I wish I could have seen it!" "Can I interview you for the school paper?" Joey tried to play it down, but the questions and compliments and jovial mood were infectious, and he succumbed, breaking out into a smile. "What can I say? They pissed me off!" This solicited a huge eruption of laughter from the kids, and some in the back started a chant. "O-MEG-A-BOY! O-MEG-A-BOY! O-MEG-A-BOY!" "Okay! Stop that!" Joey said, even though he was grinning and enjoying it, and he managed to turn the corner to the locker hallway, followed by the crowd of admiring kids. The chant suddenly died down, and the hallway fell to a deathly silence. Joey immediately saw the reason why. Ahead of him stood Clyde, Brandon, and Neil, all still wrapped up in their bandages. And everyone stood silent and looked at Joey. Oh god, Joey thought. This is it. He turned and looked back at all of the kids behind him. They were standing and watching, waiting for his next move. I really didn't want to do this in front of half the school. His body went cold, and his mouth went dry, and he looked back at the three bullies. They stared at him icily, with Clyde trying to look indifferent as he rubbed his injured shoulder. "I'm sorry," he rehearsed. "I'm sorry I hurt you." How am I supposed to do this? I have to. I promised Tricia. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry" Just say it and keep walking. "I'm..." He swallowed and took a step forward, and glanced back at the crowd of kids behind him. They have my back. Everyone is watching me. I can do this. I can... And it was at this moment when he realized he was wrong. Not everyone was watching him. One face in the crowd behind him was turned to the ground. Sarah Abercrombie stared at the floor and swayed, caught in her obsessive compulsive mode, clutching her notebook, and she kept glancing at the three bullies. Her face was a mask of terror, and she was whispering something. He couldn't hear her words, but he read one word from her pink lips. "Please ... please ... please..." Joey made a decision at that moment. He turned back to the bullies and marched up to them. Everyone held their breath and watched with eager anticipation. He stared them in the eyes; Neil, Brandon, and then Clyde. The first two dropped their gazes as he met theirs, but Clyde held his gaze firmly on Joey, refusing to back down. Joey took another deep breath, and spoke. "You touch me, my friends, or anyone else in this school again," he whispered just loud enough for everyone to hear it, "and next time I won't hold back. I will rip your powers out of you permanently." The crowd of kids behind him let out a collective chorus of "Ooooh!" and a few comments, but Joey ignored them. Clyde glared at him. "Just stay out of my way, faggot." he growled. The first bell rang, giving the three bullies an opportunity to walk away without losing face, and the crowd of students broke up behind him, Joey stood and watched, keeping an eye on them and how they treated anyone else they got close to. A couple other students slapped him on the shoulder as they passed, giving a "Good job, Joey" or other encouragement. Joey just stood there and nodded his head, accepting the compliment, but keeping a firm eye on the three boys. Sarah timidly hesitated next to him, and then scuttled off towards class. He watched her as she cautiously passed the boys, turning her body in the process, watching them, and defending herself, and then she ducked into a classroom. Simon hobbled up next to him. "Good to see you back, bud." Joey gave him a once over. Simon had a few scrapes on his face, and a bandage on one hand. "You okay?" He nodded. "I'm good." "What did you do? Tell the whole school?" Simon shrugged. "I didn't really have to. When you and the stooges didn't show up on Tuesday, and I came in with bandages, well, everyone started asking. And I tried to not talk about it, but when the story broke out on the news, I kind of broke down." He shrugged again. "Had to tell our side of it. Come on." They started walking towards Joey's locker. "Well, at least you didn't do an interview in the school paper, did you?" "Hey look! Something shiny!" Joey facepalmed. "You didn't, did you?" "What can I say? Melissa can be very persuasive when she's in a tank-top." "I've got to get you laid." They reached his locker, and as Joey stowed his book bag and pulled out his English book, Simon leaned against the lockers. "So how are you doing, Joey?" He sighed. "Physically I'm okay, but..." He looked at his friend. "Did you think I did the wrong thing, beating them like that?" Simon thought about it. "I don't know. Just hearing the story, everyone else seems to like it. If I only heard it, I would have thought you did the right thing, but ... Joey, I saw you. You looked like you were ready to kill them. Honestly, I don't know what scared me more; them or you." He closed his locker. "I didn't mean to scare you." Students were walking by, all on their way to class. One boy slapped Joey on the arm as he passed. "Hey Joey! Heard what you did! Great job!" "Thanks Yami." Joey waited for the boy to continue out of earshot, and turned back to Simon. "Look, I'm thinking I went too far. I need to apologize to them." "You do that, and you know they will never respect you." He nodded. "Yeah. I don't think they're the type to accePPHHFFFTTT!!!" Joey winced and sneezed as the long furry tail of a passing girl brushed under his nose. Kaelyn, the Australian cat-girl was passing by, and she gave him a seductive wink. "Hiya, Mate!" she literally purred, and continued walking, her wide hips and fine ass swaying hypnotically, and her tail swishing back and forth invitingly. She gave him a longer look than normal, and strutted off confidently down the hallway. Joey wiped his nose, and shook his head clear as he watched her walking away. "She DOES know what 'Mate' means in American, doesn't she?" he asked Simon. Simon nodded. "Undoubtedly," he sighed. "You know, I'm beginning to think she really wants to give you some of that down-under pussy." Joey winced. "Ouch! You are awful, you know that?" They started walking down the hallway together. "Yes. I. Am." They reached their classroom, and as Simon took his normal seat up front, Joey glanced about the room. Raquel simply glanced at him and turned her eyes back to her notebook. Lynne looked up from her book and caught his gaze. She gave him the slightest of smiles, and shyly turned back to her book Sarah sat in her seat, rocking obsessively and scribbling in her ever-present notebook, and didn't even look up when he entered. Clyde sat in the back, trying to look bored as usual, and he pretended to not notice him coming in at all. Jeff spoke up. "Joey. How're you doing?" "I um..." He thought about it, and noticed Clyde glance in his direction. Joey allowed himself a smirk. "Not bad. Nothing I can't handle." And he took his regular seat next to Sarah. Their teacher, Mr. Larson, a gray-haired middle-aged man came in. "Joey. Clyde. Good to see you both back." He set his books on the desk. "While you were out, the rest of us were diagramming compound sentences. So let's open our books to page sixty-two. We're going to review what we learned last week." Joey dutifully opened his book, and overheard Clyde scoff and cop an attitude until he finally opened his own book. Sarah started frantically turning back several pages in her notebook, searching and scanning the multitudes of handwritten scribblings. "Wrong book! Wrong book! Wrong book! Wrong book!" she quietly chanted to herself as she searched. "Not supposed to go backwards!" she whispered harshly. "Just copy this stuff again," Joey suggested to her. "I need to see it." Sarah nodded, and flipped back to the empty section of her notebook, where she prepped the page for notes. "Monday, October 5, 2009. 8:00 AM. Mr Larson's Remedial English. Students present are Simon Riley, Raquel Rose, Sarah Abercrombie, Joseph Harper, Lynne Sullivan, Jeff Sullivan, and Clyde Gangjeon." Then she quickly jotted down the colors of clothing people wore, her fingers and pen madly dashing across the page in a beautiful script. Joey smiled as he watched her compulsively write down every unnecessary detail. Mr. Larson started the lecture, talking about how compound sentences worked, how they differed from simple sentences and complex sentences, and how to diagram them by identifying the independent clauses. Joey listened and drew, and occasionally got confused with the details of identifying the different parts of speech. Words were not his strong suit, but lines and visual structure made more sense to him, so the sentence diagramming helped him make sense of grammar. Often during class he would look over to Sarah's copious notes to figure out what was going on, and she would let him copy from her. Complex sentences were confusing, and he found himself once again looking at her notes. "I tried to speak Spanish, and my friend tried to speak English." "I am a mutant, and my friend is a mage." "I have a lot of work to finish, so I will be up all night." "Thank you, Joey." This last sentence caught his attention, and he frowned, trying to figure out the two independent clauses. But then he felt pretty stupid because he eventually realized he was not looking at an example of a compound sentence, but a personal message from Sarah. He glanced up at her. Her violet eyes peeked out from behind her dark glasses, caught his gaze, and then shyly dropped down back to the paper. Joey was stunned. For all of the weeks they had sat next to each other, this was probably the first time he had really made a direct connection with her. They had talked before, but had never really done anything other than say "Good morning" and "Later" to each other. He studied her face. Her porcelain-white albino skin was flawless and smooth, like her features were sculpted in a ghostly ivory. There was not a hint of teen acne on her skin. Her long silky hair was platinum blond, as were her long eyelashes. Her lips and her eyes were the only parts of her that betrayed any color. Her eyes were a light-violet, very exotic and strange looking, and her lips were pink and moist. He had never really noticed how lovely she was before. Joey moved his pencil over to her book and wrote in next to her thank-you note. "You're welcome, Sarah." She glanced up at him, smiled faintly, and dropped her head back down. Her cheeks flushed. Sarah. He had never really considered her potential before, but as he looked at her, he could see a tender beauty housing a troubled mind. He considered what it would be like to draw her. Charcoal, delicate lines with light hints of red chalk would work best for her, he decided. Words echoed in his thoughts. "Do you like her? Then tell her, and take interest in her." He did like her, he realized. And he thought about her, remembered her screaming in terror as Clyde startled her, and recalled the way she shied about him in the hallway. "No wonder," he thought to himself. "I'd be terrified of him too if I were her." She wrote another message in her book. "Were you hurt?" He smiled and wrote back. "Yes. But don't worry. It was worth it. He won't bother you again." He saw her smile as she read that, and she wrote back. "I hope so." "I'll do it again if I have to. You are worth it." Sarah took in a sharp intake of breath as she read that, squirmed a little, and jotted in the corner of the page the letters "XI-II-IX". Joey had no idea what that meant, but he enjoyed the way she reacted to his note. He decided to press his advantage and wrote again. "I need some help with my homework. Do you know anyone who wrote down the assignments last week?" She giggled under her breath, and bit her lips, trying to control her smile. It was very cute. She cocked her head and wrote again in her flowery script. "Yes! I did!" "I know you did." He drew a little smiley face. They both looked up to the front of the class, pretending to pay attention to the lecture, and glanced at each other. She was trying to mask a look of happiness, but as she peered over the top of her dark sunglasses, he could see her eyes betraying a sense of delight. Joey decided to be bold. He wrote down next to his smiley face "Do you want to come over to my house after school?" Sarah had gasped slightly before he even finished writing it. Her pen hung over the page and trembled slightly. He wrote some more. "We can work on homework, and maybe play some games or see a movie?" She touched her pen to the page. "Are you asking me on a date?" Joey smiled. "Yes." She shuddered and giggled to herself, and bashfully glanced away from him. Joey waited, and she coyly looked at him once more, and then turned away again. Her face had turned crimson, and she dipped her head down low, hiding her face with the wide brim of her black hat. Joey wrote again on the page. "Would you like to go out on a date with me?" She squirmed and rocked, hugging herself, and smiling as she saw the words on the page. Then she quickly underlined her "XI-II-IX" and added the numbers "2-3-5-3-2" underneath. Then she held her pen over the page, but didn't write anything. Joey decided to get cute. He drew two boxes and labeled them "Yes" and "No". "Check the box." he instructed. She chuckled under her breath and bounced slightly in her chair. Her face flushed with excitement. She moved the pen up between the two boxes, and just held it there, teasing him. He waited. She didn't make a decision. She just wavered slightly between the two boxes. So he took his pencil point and touched it to the tip of her pen, and she squeaked quietly with laughter at the moment of contact. He slowly pushed her pen down towards the "Yes" box, and as soon as the point touched the paper, she enthusiastically checked the box with a giggle. Sarah was giddy, and she rocked and squirmed in her seat, rewarding him with faint smiles and subdued giggles. She then turned to a fresh page in her notebook and wrote at the very top the phrase "Joey Harper just asked me out on a date and I said Yes!" She then flipped to the front of her notebook and consulted the calendar. Then she flipped back to the last page where she carefully tore the last line she wrote from the page. She folded the paper strip several times, and placed it in front of her notebook. Joey looked between her and the folded paper strip several times, trying to figure out what she was doing, but then suddenly the paper strip shot across the room and landed in Lynne's hand. She unfolded it, read it, and gave them both an astonished stare. Sarah grinned in pride, and resumed her school work, beaming with happiness. ------- "I got a date!" he told Tricia. "What?" her voice asked over the phone. "A date?" "Well, it's just for homework. I have a lot to catch up on. Is it okay if we bring her home? I may have to skip the shelter this afternoon." "Oh, absolutely! You go, stud! Who is it?" "Oh, um, Sarah Abercrombie." "Is that the bouncy one?" "Well, she is kind of bouncy, but I think you're thinking of Racquel. Sarah is the albino mage?" "Ahh. So, you're going to try white women now?" "It's just homework." "Well, I'm very proud of you, and I'm looking forward to meeting her. Should I pick you up some condoms?" "Trish!" ------- At three fifteen that afternoon, Joey made his way into the dormitory section of the school. A lot of the students in the school stayed in the local dorms, seeing as their real homes were usually several states away. It was a side-effect of the fact that there were not that many schools in the country available for kids with special needs like his. Joey was one of the few who actually lived in the city and commuted to school. He checked just one more time the room number he had gotten from the Miss Daschofsky, the school secretary, and climbed the stairs. Other students were running up and down the stairs, and a couple said 'Hi' to him or congratulated him again. Joey tried to shrug it off. He never really felt comfortable with a lot of attention, and he also felt a little odd about how his return to school had stolen a lot of thunder from Willow Booth. Her big news was that she had apparently gotten Snow Angel's autograph over the weekend. He reached the third floor and pushed open the door, and nearly ran straight into Lynne. "Oh! Hi," he said, startled. She and Jeff jumped slightly at his sudden appearance. "Oh!" she gasped, nearly hitting him with her guitar case. They stared at him curiously. "What are you doing here?" she asked almost accusingly. Joey faltered. Lynne was just too damn gorgeous, and he really wasn't prepared for her sudden appearance. He also felt a little guilty. Here he had been nursing this crush on her, and now he was here to pick up her friend for a date, having never had the guts to ask Lynne out. "Um..." He considered lying, but remembered Lynne was the first one to know about their date. He shrugged. "Do you know where Sarah is?" "Should be in her room," Jeff said flatly, and he gestured with his own guitar case. Joey chewed on it for a moment. The way he said it, it was almost disappointing. "Thanks, man," he said, and he scooted past them. He started down the hallway, but stopped and turned back. He caught them both watching him a little too intently. It was slightly awkward. "Um," he started. "What's with the guitars?" "Busking," Lynne said matter-of-factly. "Oh," he said. "Well, have fun." And without a word between them or even a glance at each other, the twins then simultaneously turned and headed out the door. Lynne just simply pushed the door open and walked out, and Jeff caught it and walked through behind her. Joey watched the door close behind them and rolled his tongue through his cheek, wondering. "What the hell is 'busking'?" he asked nobody in particular. He shrugged and turned down the hall. When he found Sarah's room, Joey stopped to smooth his hair down and adjust his shirt. He took a deep breath before knocking on her door. KNOCK-KNOCK... "AAACK!" she shrieked from inside. Joey stopped. "Sarah? Are you okay?" "I'M OKAY!" she yelled through the door. "You startled me. That's all." He digested that. "Can I come in?" "Umm ... umm ... umm..." She sounded frantic, and he could hear her pacing. "Say 'Yes'," he suggested. "Yes!" she answered. Joey opened the door and found Sarah standing in the middle of her room, swaying and clutching her hands. Her room was dark, immaculate, clean, organized, and decorated with a horde of crocheted doilies and wall hangings. A huge crocheted afghan covered her bed, and books lay organized across the bedspread. Several bags of yarn sat on the floor next to the bed, with two knitting needles poking out of one of the bags. She was dressed in her usual all-black outfit, but without the hat and sunglasses, and she was muttering to herself, chanting in rhythms. "Eng-lish, His-tree, Math! (breath) So-cial Stu-dies Sci!" She counted on her fingers, and then she rearranged the books. "So-cial Stu-dies, His-tor-ee (breath) Math-and Eng-lish..." She grunted and stomped in frustration. "Five subjects, twelve syllables! ARGH! And nothing rhymes!" she complained, pulling her hair. "Sarah?" Joey asked with some concern. "WHAT!" she shrieked and turned, and seeing him for the first time, caught herself. "Oh. Hi," she said apologetically, and a wave of embarrassment washed over her. "You okay?" he asked. "Yeah ... yeah ... yeah," she said, nervously turning and shaking her hands in the air. "I just want things to fit together, that's all." Joey watched her as she considered the books again. "Well, it's just homework. It doesn't have to rhyme." "That's easy for you to say," she said, and she put the books into a pile again. Then she ran to her dresser and dug through her purse. "Keys. Phone. Tissues. Aloe vera. Moisturizer. Sunscreen. Sunglasses. Coin purse. Wallet. Farecard..." She gave Joey a concerned look. "How much is the Metro to your place?" Joey shook his head. "No Metro. Tricia is downstairs. We have a ride." Sarah digested this for a full ten seconds, apparently getting lost in her thoughts and giving Joey enough time to wonder if she had blown a fuse. "Oh," she finally said, and she pulled the farecard out and put it in a drawer. Joey frowned, wondering why she put the farecard away. They were the size of a credit card and made of paper, so they really didn't weigh down anything or take up any space. But apparently to replace the farecard, Sarah rummaged through another drawer and pulled out a sanitary napkin. As she went to put it in her purse, she caught Joey watching, and spun and hid it behind her. "Turn around!" she ordered. "Huh?" She glared at him. "I have women things, okay?" she hissed. Joey shrugged and turned around, and as she put the sanitary napkin in her purse, he chuckled to himself. "You know, I live with two women." "Uh-huh," she said, counting things in her purse. "Keys. Phone. Tissues. Aloe vera. Moisturizer. Sunscreen. Sunglasses. Coin purse. Wallet ... Thing." "I know about the women things. I have to carry them in the store sometimes." She gasped, and counted the objects in her purse again. "They even discuss them at the dinner table," he continued. "Tricia is all for comfort, but Annie is into absorbency and odor protection." "Eww!" This seemed to break her out of her pattern of repeatedly counting the ten items in her purse, and she rushed to the bed again to rearrange the books. "Sarah," he began. "I just need to be ready!" she barked. "Make sure I have everything! I just need to..." She spun and stared at him. " I mean, I need..." But she couldn't finish. She would look in his eyes and spin around, finding something else to focus on. "I need to make sure that I got it all." "Sarah. Calm down." "Nonono! I need to..." She waved her hands about. "Sarah," he said, catching one hand. She froze as his hand touched hers. "Calm down." Her hand was shaking. She watched her hand in his, and turned to him. "I'm freaking out, am I?" she asked somewhat calmly. Joey nodded. "Yeah." She pulled her hand away from his and cradled it to her chest. "I'm like really ... um ... nervous?" she finally confessed. He gave her a warm smile. "So am I." Sarah let out a half chuckle of relief. "Well, um..." "Why don't we just go to my place and do some homework, okay?" She swallowed, smiled, and nodded her head. "Okay." As Joey picked up the books, Sarah finished getting ready. She put on a pair of sunglasses, her wide brim black hat, and some black gloves. Then she picked up her purse and pulled out a second pair of sunglasses. "Okay. I think I'm ready. Wait!..." Joey waited and watched her. She stood motionless for a few more seconds. " Ready," she finally said. He shrugged, and they walked together out into the hallway. ------- It was a momentous occassion. Tricia had actually cleaned out the backseat of her car for it. She watched the school's front doors eagerly, waiting for Joey and Sarah to come out, and when she saw him hold the door open for the girl in black, she almost wept with pride. What little of Sarah she could see was ghostly white and hidden behind voluminous black clothes, and Tricia raised an eyebrow as she watched Sarah put on a pair of dark wrap-around shades on top of another pair of dark sunglasses. But as Joey led her towards the car, Sarah still shielded her eyes from the sun. She could see him talking to her, apparently giving her encouragement. She was taking all of his attention, and Tricia popped one hip and inhaled deeply, inflating her chest as she leaned against the car. "Sarah, this is Tricia. Tricia, this is Sarah." Sarah carefully glanced upward at the famous Brazilian beauty, and bashfully clutched her purse over her chest. "Hi," she said, meekly. Tricia strutted over to the two kids and held out her hand. "So pleased to meet you, Sarah," she oozed. She cocked her head at the girl. "My, you are lovely." Sarah gave an embarrassed squeak, and shyly dipped her head down, trying to avoid staring at Tricia's enormous breasts. "Thank you," she managed. Tricia reached out and lifted the brim of her hat to get a better look at her face. "Why do you hide yourself?" She pulled the brim back down. "Too much light. I burn easily." Tricia pouted her lips and let out a sympathetic "Hmm. That's too bad. I like being out in the sun." Then she sexily strutted around the car, swinging her hips a bit too much. "Well! Shall we go?" Joey opened the back seat door for Sarah and let her in, and gave Tricia an angry glare. Tricia frowned and paused at her door. "What?" she mouthed silently. He shut the door and walked over to her. "Remember that thing that Annie says you always do around other women?" he whispered. "What's it called?" Tricia paused and thought about it. "Alpha female?" she asked. He nodded, still glaring at her. "Am I doing it again?" "Yeah. Stop it, okay?" Tricia gave an apologetic smile. "Sorry!" she trilled, and she meant it. They got in the car. ------- As soon as they pulled on the streets, Tricia opened the conversation. "So tell me! Where are you from, Sarah?" Sarah flipped open her notebook and clicked her pen. "Um, Connecticut," she answered while writing. "And England." "England? Really?" "Yeah. We have a house there. What's your full name?" "My full name?" She frowned. "Patricia Maria Rosita Sanchez," she answered, laying her accent out a little thicker than normal, and she glanced in the rear view mirror and watched the girl writing in her notebook. "But you can just call me Tricia if you want." "Okay," she said noncommittally. Joey looked over and saw that Sarah had written Tricia's full name down. "Ugh, Eleven syllables!" she complained, and wrote down the fact that it was eleven syllables and twenty six letters long. "Is that a problem?" Tricia asked. She sighed. "Well ... yeah, kinda. Can't do much with eleven syllables." She wrote that down too. "What? Do you write poetry?" Sarah giggled and started experimenting, writing Tricia's name in a crossword diagram. "Kinda. Sometimes. I'm looking for symmetry." "What kind of symmetry?" Joey asked. "Well," Sarah explained, writing in her book. "Your name is Jo-seph Dan-te Har-per. Six syllables, two by three. Mine is Sa-rah Moon-glow A-ber-crom-bie. Eight syllables. Two by two by two. See? Divisible. Not primes." "Oh," he said, pretending to understand. "Is this a magic thing, a OCD thing, or just a Sarah thing?" She giggled, but didn't answer. "Sarah Moonglow Abercrombie?" Tricia asked. "That is quite a name. Is it..." "Yeah," Sarah sighed. "I know. 'Moonglow' is weird." She continued to write while talking. "When she was pregnant with me, Mom just kept having this dream over and over saying that I should be named that, and it only stopped when she named me. My dad didn't like it though, and he tried to put a different name on my birth certificate. He wanted to call me 'Marigold', so he wrote that on the form and handed it to the nurse, and then she screamed, because she saw the word change to 'Moonglow' on the paper. So that's when they knew something weird was going on." "Oh," Tricia answered. She digested the story for a moment. "That's interesting, but actually I was asking about your last name? Abercrombie? Any relation to Abercrombie and Fitch?" She nodded. "Yeah. That's us," she said nonchalantly. Tricia's eyes widened. "Really? Wow!" She turned her head back and mouthed the words "Keep her!" to Joey. Joey bit his tongue trying to keep from laughing. "Hey! Do you get discounts?" Sarah thought about it, seriously considering the question. "I don't know," she finally settled on. "I don't usually go in our stores. They're really loud." ------- "Well, come on in, Sarah. Welcome to our place," Tricia said, opening the front door. "¡Mi casa es su casa! Make yourself at home. ANNIE?" As Tricia walked inside, Sarah cautiously peered into the apartment, and startled as Scrappy came running up, yipping at her. "Aack!" she yelped, jumping back slightly. "Come here, bud!" Joey said, scooping up his dog. "This is Scrappy!" he said, holding the wiggling dog up to her. She leaned in and looked the dog closely in the eye. "Hi?" she said. The dog lunged forward and tried to happily lick her on the nose, and she flinched back. "Ew! Ick!" Annie called from the bedroom. "WHAT IS IT?" "WE HAVE A GUEST! COME ON OUT!" Joey watched Sarah as she pulled her outer sunglasses down a bit to explore the room. She flinched. He looked about the room with the several lights and the open curtains, and realized it must be a bit too bright for her. "Let me take care of the lights," he offered, and her ran off to turn off the various lamps and close the curtains. "So? Who is it?" Annie asked, rolling into the hallway. "It's not ... Oh. Hello." She eyed the girl curiously. "I'm Annie. Annie Freidman." "Oh," Sarah said, studying Annie. She examined the older woman's hair and figure, and then shyly held her notebook across her chest and dipped her head down low, hiding behind the brim of her hat. "Um ... Hi," she offered. Annie nodded. "Okay, this is the point when you tell me your name. This is how it works, see?" Sarah chuckled. "Oh, sorry. I'm Sarah Abercrombie." And she gave a slight curtsey as she introduced herself. "Very pleased to meet you," Annie said, extending her hand and shaking hers. "You're one of Joey's classmates, aren't you? I recognize you. So! What brings you to our humble abode?" "Sarah is Joey's date tonight!" Tricia bragged, dropping her purse on the couch. Annie's jaw dropped, and her face fell ever so slightly as she heard that. "Date?" she asked a little trepidatiously. "It's just homework," said Joey. "Hmm-mmm!" Tricia agreed somewhat sarcastically. "She'll be staying for dinner too." "Oh," Annie responded a little unenthusiastically, and she fingered the pocket of her sweater as she watched the young girl wander into the living room, exploring the various pictures. Annie pulled herself together and put on a smile. "Well, that will be nice," she said, rolling in after her. She examined Sarah from behind, trying to make out her figure, but the girl's clothes were bulky and unflattering. "So, are there any special dietary restrictions we need to know about? Vegetarian? Kosher? Because I'll tell you, we'll have none of that in this house." "Anything is fine," she answered, looking at the Beatles poster, and then cocking her head at the pictures of Buster Keaton and the Blues Brothers. "Thank you. OH!" She turned and suddenly let out a gasp of shock. Her notebook dropped to the floor, and she quickly clawed off her two pairs of sunglasses, and stood in awe at her discovery, her violet eyes fixated on the floating green crystal over the TV set. "You have a CHARM!" she exclaimed excitedly. Tricia frowned and squinted at the girl. "Oh yeah. That." "What does it do?" Sarah asked, enraptured by the crystal. "It's a ... What did she call it again?" Tricia asked Annie. "A ward," Annie offered. "Oh!" Sarah exclaimed. "It's beautiful!" Joey spoke up. "Snow Angel gave that to us." Sarah spun and stared at Joey in disbelief. "Really? Snow Angel? You know her?" He shuffled on his feet, thinking back to the day he caught her naked in his bedroom. "Yeah, we know her," he confessed. "I've seen a bit of her." She looked at the crystal again, and clasped her hands together, almost in prayer. "Wow!" She studied the ward for a moment, and turned back to the others. "May I?" The other three all looked at each other quizzically, all silently asking each other the same question. "May I WHAT?" Nobody seemed to have an answer, and they just shrugged. "Sure!"Annie said. "Be my guest!" Sarah excitedly bounced on her toes, let out a little squeal of enthusiasm, and ran to the kitchen where she pulled out a chair. She quickly dragged it back into the living room, giddily stood on it and got up right next to the floating crystal. "Hello," she sing-songed to the crystal. "Hello, mistress," it responded. "HOLY CRAP!" "SHMA-YISROOEL! IT TALKS!" Tricia crossed herself. Sarah gave them all a queer look. "Of course it talks!" she said obviously, and she turned back to the crystal. "Muggles," she muttered under her breath. The three humans and one dog stared in astonishment as the girl carefully reached up to the crystal and touched it. "I am Moonglow." she said to the crystal. "What enthuses you? Incantation? Reagents?" "Hypersigil," the crystal responded. She smiled. "Please share with me your hypersigil." The crystal pulsed with energy, and bobbed as it spun. Tendrils of light suddenly spilled out of the facets and stretched into the room. Scrappy started barking madly, and the other three backed away cautiously as the glowing green filaments spread through the center of the room, snaking, twisting, circling, and shaping itself into a complex diagram. Circles, triangles, ellipses, and symbols arranged themselves in the air, encompassing and intersecting each other. The design completed itself, and rotated slowly in the bulk of the room. Everyone stared in fascination, with Sarah being the only one knowing at what she was looking at. The other were just baffled. "What is that?" Joey asked. "Es hermosa," Tricia whispered in awe. "It's beautiful." "Shayn vee dee levooneh!" Annie sighed. Sarah, still standing on the chair, was bathed in the soft radiant light from the floating hypersigil, and she stared at the designs with a look of awe and wonder. "It's amazing!" she declared, and she hopped off the chair and strutted directly into the designs. The others flinched and gasped as she nonchalantly walked straight through the pulsing lines of energy, spinning and studying the forms and connections. "What balance, what sympathies ... She uses a phonetic scripting with rotational symmetry! OH!" She squinted at one section, and mouthed a word. "Rachel?" she asked, and turned to Annie. "Is that you?" Annie blinked. "That's my middle name," she explained. "Oh. Pretty!" She turned back to the design and spun, reading and admiring it. "This is so wonderful. You must really enjoy it," she declared. "Um..." Tricia said. "We've never actually seen this before." Sarah gave Tricia a questioning look, and then giggled to herself. "Sorry," she said. "Wasn't talking to you." As she continued to turn and explore the ring of symbols and lines, Tricia gave Annie a questioning "Who was she talking to?" look. Annie pointed to the crystal as an answer. Tricia squinted at the crystal, and then back at Annie, and gave her a silent "What the fuck are you talking about?" look. "I think we're looking at source code for something that operates off of art instead of logic," whispered Annie. "No. I think you think you're making sense with that explanation, but you're not," Tricia whispered back. "Who is Elizabeth Collins?" Sarah asked out of the blue. The three were stunned for a moment, and Joey answered. "She's my case worker from Child and Family Services." "Actually, if you're looking at a permission list, you can take that name out of there if you want," Annie suggested. Sarah threw up her hands in defiance. "Oh no! I'm not touching this!" She turned around, looking at different parts of the hypersigil. "And if I did I would have put a different person in, or else it would mess up the whole..." She stopped and stared at a section, and her face twisted into a look of confusion, and then into horror. "Forty four?" she blurted out in disbelief. "That can't be right! She would have been..." She spun and looked at another part of the diagram. "Oh. Seasonal, with a polar orientation on the winter solstice." She glanced back at the others with a mild look of embarrassment on her face. "Well, DUH!" she exclaimed self-mockingly. "Of course she's oriented towards winter! SNOW Angel!" She rolled her eyes, and let out a giggling snort. As Sarah returned to her study of the hypersigil, Tricia and Annie both turned to Joey and gave him a odd "What kind of girl did you think you were bringing home?" look. Joey shrugged, and returned a "This is who I brought home. Deal with it," look of his own. "Forty four divided. That's eleven. That's awful," Sarah said with sympathy. "Unless..." She turned to the others. "Do you know when she infused?" They all just kind of stared at her. She smiled apologetically. "When did she get her powers?" "Oh. Um, she was seven," Annie answered. Sarah considered that. "Oh." She chuckled and smiled. "That's so much better." She turned and giggled to herself, apparently enjoying a private joke. "But she really should have waited another year." There was a knock at the front door, but only Scrappy and Sarah seemed to notice it, or care about it. The dog started wriggling frantically in Joey's arms and barking, while Sarah glanced at the door. The others continued to transfix on the floating hypersigil. "Um. There's someone at the door," Sarah told them. The knocking continued, and Joey seemed to snap out of his trance. "Maybe I should put this away," she offered. "Yeah," Joey answered, still watching the hypersigil as he backed towards the door. Sarah turned to the crystal. "Thank you very much for sharing that with us," she said to the crystal. The crystal bobbed and pulsed, and the hypersigil vanished. Tricia and Annie stared and blinked at the empty space where the hypersigil was just moments ago, and slowly turned their eyes towards Sarah. The girl smiled and picked up her notebook from the floor. "Thank you so much," she said. "I've always wanted to see her work. You're so lucky to have it." The knocking now turned into a frantic pounding. Scrappy barked, pulling Joey out of his thoughts, and he absent mindedly opened the door. "Zho-SEPH! I heard the good news! Please let us in! Let me see her at ONCE!" Her cry startled Joey. "Matilda? Jacques? Come in. What are you..." As soon as he said "Come in," Matilda stormed inside, a woman on a mission, pushing past Joey. She started flipping on lights as she walked in. "What are you doing in the DARK! Jacques! PLEASE get some light in here!" she pleaded. As soon as she walked into the living room and saw Sarah flinching at the lamp light, Matilda clasped her hands together in giddiness. "OH! What a DOLL!" she exclaimed, and she rushed over to Sarah. "What? Who?" Sarah tried to say. She fumbled with her sunglasses. Matilda took Sarah's face by one hand and lifted her head up to study her, squeezing her cheeks so hard her lips practically folded into a duck-bill. "An albino! Zhoseph! You certainly know how to pick the exotic ones! Oh! you're such a beauty! What is your name? How old are you?" "Sarah," she managed. "Fourteen. What are you..." she struggled to free her face and get her sunglasses on. Matilda gasped and circled around behind her. "PERFECT age! The press will just EAT you up!" "Press? What?" The publicist grabbed Sarah's bulky shirt and pulled it tight about her, revealing her young curves. The girl "oofed" as her clothes pulled snug. "Lovely figure! Or will be soon. But we really should do something about this goth look! It's SO ninteen-eighties! Maybe some Spring colors! Yellows and pinks! You look like an empty canvas, my dear, and you should be PAINTED!" Joey stood off to one side, pulling his hair and watching the disaster unfold in front of him. "Oh god, this is not good." He dropped the dog. "Matilda! Stop!" Tricia, who had been stunned through this whole performance, finally woke up. "Matilda, wait. Maybe you should..." "Why is she here?" Annie asked Tricia. "I may have mentioned it to her," Tricia confessed. Jacques took that moment to throw open the curtains, flooding the room with bright sunlight. Sarah shrieked and held her notebook up, shielding herself from the window. Matilda paid no attention to her. "Please, dahrlings," she said to her clients. "Let me do my job. This is SO momentous!"And she dragged the girl towards Joey. Joey rushed up to her. "Matilda! Stop it! You're hurting..." "Please! Let me see you two together!" And she thrust Sarah towards Joey, who caught her, and Matilda snatched the notebook away from the girl. Sarah squinted and clawed for her book. "Lovely!" she judged. "Please!" Sarah begged. "I need my book!" "They look ADORABLE together! Don't they?" Matilda proclaimed. "Jacques?" Joey snapped his head around. "JACQUES! NO!" he screamed. But he was too late. Jacques lifted his camera. -FLASH!- "AAAH!" "AAAIIEE!!!" Again, it only took two seconds, but in those two seconds, a lot happened. ------- Tricia, Annie, Matilda, and Jacques all stared slack-jawed in a daze as they saw the clothing fall to the floor and the naked ghost-girl screaming and running through the nearest wall. Joey glared at them, and burned in rage. "Well, THANKS A LOT!" he yelled at Matilda. "What the hell did you think you were doing?" he growled as he snatched up her clothing from the floor. Then he turned on her, his eyes flaring with fury. "What the hell do you think she is? A piece of MEAT?" Matilda blinked her eyes in bafflement. "What was that?" she started. "That was a GIRL! My FRIEND! And you scared her! What did you think she was, just some ARM-CANDY? Just some story you can sell? Some ... what do you call it? An accessory?" "She went through the wall..." Matilda muttered, pointing. "Yeah! She defied physics. TO GET AWAY FROM YOU!" he shouted. The sounds of Sarah's crying were extremely noticeable and weighed heavily in the room, and Joey stormed up to Jacques. "Camera!" he ordered the young man, holding out his hand. Jacques just blinked in bafflement. "Give me your camera," Joey explained. "I'm taking it to her, and she is going to delete any images in there that she doesn't like, including those that don't have pictures of her in it!" Jacques clutched his camera possessively, and looked at Matilda for support. Joey lifted one hand and emitted a shower of white sparks. "I swear, if you don't give me that camera I will turn Tricia here into the strongest fucking person on the planet and she will rip it off your body and crush it like paper. SO GIVE ME YOUR CAMERA!" He gave Joey the camera. Joey shut off his sparks and picked up Sarah's notebook from the floor. He gave Matilda a dirty look, and then glared at Tricia. "You just HAD to tell her, didn't you?" Tricia shook her head in shame. "Sorry. We were just talking, and I..." Joey interrupted her. "You know, this is the first time I've ever asked a girl out! It was hard, you know? And this is what you do?" He stormed over to his bedroom door and knocked on it. "Sarah? I have your clothes and your book. I'm coming in." He waited a couple seconds, and entered the room, closing the door behind him. Tricia, Matilda, Jacques, and Annie all just stood and sat there in silence, digesting the events. Annie then took a deep breath, clapped her hands together to get everyone's attention, and gave everyone a polite smile. "So?" she asked. "Coffee?" ------- Translation Guide: "Es hermosa," Tricia whispered in awe. "It's beautiful." : This is a direct translation. "Shayn vee dee levooneh!" : "Beautiful as the moon" ------- Chapter 17: Exploitations and Favors "NOBODY" "FREAK" "WHY" "HAPPENS" "NEVER" "SPASTIC" "UGLY" They filled the room. There were words, dozens of glowing words, formed in a semi-solid blue eldritch energy and written in a frantic scrawl, and they littered the floor, the bed, and drifted about the room. Joey could tell they were once in sentences, but all order was gone, all context was lost. Yet he could clearly see the pain in her writing as the words rattled and agitated in the air. Sarah sat on the far side of the bed, his blanket wrapped around her naked form, and she shook and sobbed and scrawled in the air frantically with one glowing finger. Words flashed into existence and launched into the air, drifting and bouncing and spinning, and adding to the air of chaos. "WHY ... DOES ... THIS ... KEEP ... HAPPENING? ... WHY ... CAN'T ... I ... BE ... NORMAL?..." "Sarah," Joey whispered cautiously. A flood of shame was building inside him, and he slowly walked into the room, entering her literal pain, carefully stepping over the words, and brushing past them as they shook and bobbed in the air. "I am ... so ... sorry." She turned and shot him a pained, accusing look. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her face was wet and tortured. One bare pale white shoulder protruded from the blanket. "Who was she?" she bawled. "Who was that?" He swallowed. "Our publicist, Matilda. Look, she..." "Why did she do that to me?" she cried. He took a deep breath. "I don't know. She just..." he started, but then stopped, because he realized he was lying. The fact was, he did know. "I mean, I didn't know she was going to be here today." Sarah stared at him through tearing eyes for a moment as she processed this, and her face twisted with confusion and anger. "What do you mean, today?" she sobbed. "You KNEW she was going to do that to me?" "No! I..." But Joey stopped. A shockwave of guilt impacted him, silencing him. "Fucking IDIOT!" he cursed to himself. "I should have known! She's been riding my ass for weeks to get a girlfriend! I knew how she was going to react! I knew she would run over as soon as she heard. I knew she would bring Jacques to take pictures. I knew about his flash. I knew how Sarah reacts when she's startled. Why the hell did I not see this coming?" Shame consumed his equilibrium, and the room started to spin on him, the floating letters and words only adding to his disorientation. He reached out and braced himself on his dresser and lowered his head, shielding his eyes from her glare. "I'm sorry, Sarah. I'm so sorry." Tears came to his eyes, and he blinked and wiped them clean. "This is my fault. I should have seen this coming, but I didn't. I don't know why." He swallowed and rubbed his eyes again. "I'm so stupid." She continued to stare at him, her face changing to horror. "You did know. Why did she do this?" Joey shook his head. "It's all part of management and publicity. She's been pushing me to get a girlfriend so she can get some pictures, but I completely forgot about her. I didn't think. I didn't put it all together. I should have known what she was going to do when she saw you. I should have, but I didn't. I was just..." "You were just what?" she hissed. He finally looked back at her. "I was just so happy to get this far with you." Sarah stared at him for several seconds, her face scrunching with pain and horror. "You were..." she started, and she sobbed. "You were just ... USING me? For pub..." She couldn't get the rest of the word out. Joey's heart sank in terror. "No! I swear I wasn't!" He rushed to the bed, but she flinched back, holding the blanket tight around her, so he stopped, leaving her some safe distance, not wanting to scare her again. "Please believe me, Sarah," he begged. "I ... I wasn't using you for publicity. Honest! I just didn't think about her. I..." But Sarah had turned away from him and was sobbing into her hands, and rocking on the bed. "Don't look at me!" she cried. He sat on the other side of the bed and sank his face into his hands. "Please, Sarah. Believe me. I never meant to hurt you." Sarah's sobbing and rocking turned frantic, and he could see flashes of light emerging from the other side of the room. Joey turned and saw the words "A", "WAS", "THIS," and "MISTAKE!" float up from her, the smaller words rising faster than the heavier ones. He could hear her hyperventilating and moaning as she scrawled in the air and rocked her body on the edge of the bed. The bed shook from her motions. "Please, Sarah. Forgive me. I didn't mean for this to happen. If I had just ... If I put it together, if I figured out what was going to happen when Matilda met you, I never would have..." She turned and snapped at him, her eyes flaring with anger. "Never would have WHAT? Asked me out?" "I never would have let her in." Through ragged breathing, she continued to stare at him as she considered this, and Joey saw the anger die in her eyes, to be replaced with a look of curiosity, hope, and then shame. She dropped her eyes down to the clothes he held in his hand. "Oh, I see. Can I have my..." she started. Joey held her clothes and book out to her, and Sarah shifted, clutching the blanket tightly around her. With a soft fizzing sound, her entire bare right arm passed straight through the blanket as she reached for her notebook. He flinched at the strange sight, and as she took the notebook, her semi-solid fingers brushed up against his. (Validate me) The desire flooded his mind and then vanished as she pulled away from him, opened the notebook, extracted and clicked the pen, and started writing. The writing seemed to calm her, for her frantic rocking subdued, she stopped moaning, and her breathing slowed to a more normal rate. "Validate me?" he thought to himself. "What does that mean?" He turned back and saw that some of the stronger energy words that hadn't evaporated yet were still laying about the room. "FREAK" "SPASTIC" "UGLY" The raw feeling that came from the thought gnawed at him. It was a yearning for completeness, a sense of unbalance searching for harmony. Joey reflected on the words and feeling, and turned to her. "I don't think you're a freak." She snorted in disbelief, and kept writing. He sighed. "Well, if you are one, so am I. And so is everyone else in our school. So I can hardly hold it against you." She stopped writing for a moment, and paused in thought. Then she started writing again. Joey had no idea what to say next, and he stared at the floor in silence, overwhelmed with guilt and embarrassment, and then just to get a change of scene, stared at the ceiling. He frowned as he saw what was up there, and recognized a similarity between them. "You know, sometimes I can't control my powers either," he offered. "See those stains up there?" He pointed, and she looked up and around, and followed his finger. "That's from one of the first times I pushed powers into Tricia. I made her fly and freeze all the water in the air around her. She hit the ceiling and splashed into it." Sarah blinked as she looked at the ceiling. "I didn't mean for it to happen. I was asleep, having a nightmare, and she came into the room and touched me. It just happened." He sighed. "It feels like having a bomb strapped to your chest, doesn't it?" She dropped her head and gave the slightest perceptible nod, and continued writing. "Sometimes I wonder why they built a school for all of us," Joey said. "I mean, when you think about it, it's really not that smart to put so many kids with unstable powers into one small place. Somebody is going to get hurt." He paused. "But I think I know why now. We need to all see each other. We need to see that on some levels we're all dealing with the same problems." "It's not the same," she hissed. "I'm not saying it's entirely the same. It's just that we both have these abilities that we can't completely control. But when yours go off, they humiliate you. When mine go off, they hurt people." "So you're saying you're problems are worse than mine?" she grumbled. Another wave of guilt washed over him. "Validate her!" he reminded himself. "That's what she wants. Don't dismiss her feelings. It's like with Tricia. She just wanted to express herself." "I'm not saying that. I'm just saying ... that I understand." She scoffed as she wrote. He sighed. "Or if I don't understand, I'd like to." He heard her pen stop, and she sat silently for a moment. "Thank you," she whispered. Joey allowed a slight smile to himself, pleased with at least this amount of progress. He pushed the camera and her clothes to her. "Here. I brought you his camera so you can delete whatever you want out of it. You want me to leave so you can put these on?" Sarah shook her head and meekly said "No," as she clutched the blanket around her tightly. He frowned. "You want to stay naked?" She shook her head again. "No. I mean, I don't know..." she added, and she started rocking again. "This isn't right. I shouldn't be doing this." "You didn't do anything wrong," Joey insisted. "It was an accident, and it's my fault." She gave him a worried look. "Using people is wrong," she said. "I shouldn't be here." The shame built up in him again. "I'm sorry. I told you, I didn't mean to use you. I wasn't trying to." She shook her head. "No, I didn't mean you. I meant me. I shouldn't be using you." This confused him, and Joey studied her face, looking for some explanation to her last comment. He didn't find any. "You're not using me. You're just helping me. We're supposed to be doing homework, remember?" Sarah let out a soft chuckle and gave a slight smile. "Yeah..." "I guess in one way, I am kind of using you, for homework, but you were willing to help me, so I don't think that really counts as using someone." He gave her a curious look. "But you said you were using me. Is there something you wanted from me?" She wouldn't look at him. "I'm not really good at this..." "Is that why you're here?" he pressed gently. "Because you want something?" She turned back towards him and very shyly nodded. The blanket slipped down a bit, baring her shoulder again, but her violet eyes held his attention. They looked hopeful. He smiled. "Well, all you have to do is ask. I owe you. You were willing to come here and help me, so if there is something I can help you with, I'd love to..." "Will you make love to me?" The question came out of nowhere and broadsided Joey, leaving him in a stunned silence. His mouth fell open and he just sat there and stared in disbelief at the naked girl. For several seconds there was nothing but silence, and Sarah turned her blushing face away from him in shame. "I mean," she said, embarrassment creeping into her voice. " ... if you don't mind. I'll understand if..." "What?" Joey finally managed to say. " ... if you don't want to..." she completed, and she pulled the blanket tighter around her body. Joey felt like a couple dozen thoughts and emotions were all competing for access to his brain, and it had created this massive traffic jam in his mouth. He didn't know where to start thinking first. "She wants to have sex? Where did THAT come from? Has she had a crush on me for a while?" But as he tried to sort through his feelings, he could see her reacting to the delay. Sarah pulled the blanket tightly around her body and hid her face. She started rocking slightly and mumbling. "I mean ... it's okay if you don't ... I was just wondering..." Joey blinked a few times, and realized the beautiful girl was taking his silence as an answer. "Um, wait," he started. "First of all, yes." Sarah stopped rocking and turned to him. She looked at him questioningly. "Yes! Yes, I'd be happy to, umm..." Her eyes turned bright with hope. "I just ... wasn't expecting ... You really want to... ?" Sarah blushed, and she nodded her head, unable to look him in the eyes for a brief moment. Joey swallowed. "Well ... okay! Yes! Let's..." As she gave him a shy smile, Joey wondering about her. "So that's the reason she came here? Because she wanted me? Why does she want me? Maybe she's just horny, and maybe Simon is right. Maybe every girl in school has got the hots for me. But why did she just blurt it out like that?" His eyes dropped down her form to the blanket she had wrapped about her. "She's shy. She's timid. She said she's not good at this. Maybe she just doesn't know how to talk to a boy, or flirt. That must be it. She's nothing like Tricia or Sandy, or even Annie. She needs me to take control." "I'm going to need condoms," he thought to himself. "Where are they? In the other bedroom ... OH SHIT!" He remembered the fact that there were currently four other people in the apartment. Joey held up one finger. "Okay! Just ... Wait here! All right?" he said eagerly. "I have to go take care of something, but I'll be right back! Okay? Two minutes! Tops! Okay?" Sarah nodded. "Okay..." she whispered, the blanket shifting down her shoulder a bit. He jumped off the bed and ran out of the room, shutting the door behind him. ------- Joey leaned against the door and took a deep breath, and then grabbed his head with both hands as he tried to reset his brain. "Okay, how am I going to do this? 'Hey, I love you all, but get out!'" The sound of the door opening and closing attracted their attention, and everyone in the living room turned towards him. Matilda stood up and came to him. "Zhoseph, dahrling. I must apologize. I am so deeply, terribly sorry for my behavior. I don't know what came over me. I was just so excited for you. Can you please forgive me?" Joey dropped one hand and held out another, stopping her in her tracks. "That's not up to me," he said. "Well, please let me speak with her. I do wish to apologize to her, and I want to make things up for the both of you. I should not have ambushed her in this manner. You were absolutely right. I behaved atrociously." "Yes, you did." "So please, as a matter of recompense, let me offer you and your lovely girlfriend a night on the town on my expense. Pick the finest restaurant, and the finest theater. And I have some wonderful stylists I would love to take her to..." Annie face-palmed and Tricia rolled her eyes as Matilda said this. "You know," Joey interrupted, "I don't think you really get how this girl reacts to photographers. You just saw what happened with the one you can control, and you want to dress her up and have her ambushed by the ones you CAN'T control? You want this to happen again, but out in public?" Matilda stopped and blinked for a couple seconds. "Oh dear..." she uttered. "Taking her to a night-time public forum WOULD be disastrous! Perhaps we should find a more appropriate venue to showcase her, such as a daylight setting?" He shook his head. "Sorry Matilda, but Sarah is not for show. She's not the type that can handle any paparazzi. You're just going to have to forget about her. She's not here to be used." She frowned and sighed. "Tragic. And you two were so glamorous together. Well, at the very least please let me to speak to her personally. I must apologize to her, and I'm certain I can convince her that..." And she made a move towards the door. Joey stopped her with a panicked shout. "NO! DON'T!" The thought of Matilda walking in on Sarah as she was naked and probably crawling into his bed horrified him, and he mentally grasped for any excuse to keep her out of the room. "I mean ... She doesn't want to deal with you right now!" "But I really should..." "No. I'm serious. You are the last person she wants to see right now. She's ... still upset." "Yeah, that's it. That and she came here to get laid." "You can apologize to her later. Maybe tomorrow, maybe next week. I don't know. But right now, she just doesn't want to see you." As Matilda processed this, Joey realized how well this line was working, and he turned to the others. "That goes for you too. All of you. She doesn't want to see anyone. She doesn't want to deal with anyone else." Tricia and Annie jolted at that, and Jacques lifted a finger and opened his mouth to speak. "You'll get your camera back later!" Joey yelled at the photographer. "Just ... go away! Clear out! All of you! Go! Now!" Everyone just stared at him, and nobody moved. "She's not coming out as long as anyone is here." Annie blinked. "You mean, you want us to just wait in the other room while she leaves?" "No. I mean ... She doesn't want you in the apartment." Everyone continued to just stare at him. "And ... I don't know how long this is going to take. Could be hours. I ... Just ... Just go to the movies! Okay?" Tricia and Annie startled as they heard that, for they both knew what that well-established code-phrase meant in their household. Annie's jaw dropped in horror, but Tricia lifted an eyebrow for a moment, and then broke out into a wide grin. She stood up and clapped her hands together, grabbing everyone's attention. "You heard the man!" she said gleefully. "Clear out! We're out of here! Give them some room! Come on!" She happily marched over to the foyer and picked up her purse. "We're leaving. He's got to take care of her, and we're in the way." She checked her cell phone's charge, and pocketed the phone. "And give us a call when you're done, okay?" she said to Joey with a smirk. Then she turned to Annie. "Annie! Is there anything you absolutely need right now from here? Anything we can't pick up at the drugstore?" Annie blinked and faltered as she processed the events. "I ... um ... no but..." "Good! Let's go!" She opened the door and marched back in towards Annie. As she started pushing her wheelchair, she turned to the others. "Matilda! Jacques! Lovely to see you again! We're out of here! Come along!" "But! We ... I really don't think that..." "Out! Out! Out!" As Matilda and Annie sputtered and questioned, Tricia ignored their protests and gleefully herded them all out of the apartment. As she managed to get them all out into the hallway, she turned back to Joey. "Thanks," Joey silently mouthed to her. Tricia gave him a conspiratorial smile, and pointed to him. "Protection!" she mouthed, and gestured to the other bedroom which had the drawer of condoms. "I know!" he silently mouthed back. She pointed to his room. "Be gentle with her." "I will!" She twisted her hand around. "Or rough. If that's how she likes it." "Trish!" She mimed a phone. "Call me!" "Okay! I will!" She pointed at him. "I want details!" "Would you just go?" She pointed into the living room. "Dog?" "Yes! Take him!" She picked up the leash and air-kissed the dog, catching his attention. " Scrappy! Come!" And she jingled the leash. The dog happily barked and ran out the door. With a final smile and a wink, Tricia closed the door behind her. Joey leaned back against the bedroom door again and let out a long breath. "Well. That went better than I expected." He took another steadying breath and then headed into the other bedroom, where he pulled open a drawer and extracted a condom. Then he thought about it for a moment and pulled out a second condom, and then another thought later, a third. He then picked up the bottle of lubricant, seriously considered it, and put it back in the drawer. The condoms he decided he could put into his pocket, but the bottle he would have to hold in his hand, and wasn't sure she would appreciate seeing him come in for their first lovemaking session while carrying a huge bottle of lube. "And it's not like I have ever had a problem getting women wet," he proudly thought to himself. Condoms in his pocket, he checked his breath, and then his hair in the mirror, and then he headed back to his bedroom. He knocked on the door. "Sarah? They're gone. Can I come in now?" "Um..." There was a pause, and he could hear some movement and the rustling of fabric. "Yes." Joey opened the door and stepped into the dark but oddly lit room. The glowing words were gone, long evaporated, and instead it was solely illuminated by a shimmering layer of fabric that draped over her body. Sarah was on the far side of the bed, standing, and covered with a glowing silk garment. He couldn't figure out if it was a robe or a poncho, or where the hell it even came from, but it was voluminous and flowing and it sparkled and glittered as it draped over her body. Sarah was not paying any attention to him. She appeared to be busy pulling something up around her hips. Her hands passed directly through the fabric of the glowing sheet, and occasionally the robe intersected with a dark cloth around her legs as she pulled it up. Joey frowned. He recognized her black jeans. "Are you getting dressed?" "Uh-huh," she said as she fumbled with the snap and zipper, her fingers penetrating through the silvery robes. "Oh." He squinted at her. "What is that?" She took the glimmering white fabric in her hand and studied it with a smile. "This? Moonlight weave," she said proudly. "It's one of the few spells I'm really good at, but I'm still working on it. It doesn't last that long, and I'm still working on the design. It works great for a sari, but they take so long to put on, and drapes and simple tunics are just easier." "Oh." He chewed on his lip and watched her as she pulled her black sweatshirt on over the moonlight weave robes. The black fabric passed through the white fabric, mostly, and she pulled her long hair out through the neck of her sweatshirt. It was odd, he reflected, how her two outfits would intersect each other, each one not knowing of the other one. But what was odder still was the fact that she was getting dressed. "Why are you getting dressed?" She gave him a questioning look. "Huh?" "Well, um..." He glanced at his shoes. "I thought you wanted to..." She stared at him, blinking, with not a hint of recognition on her face. " ... you know..." She squinted at him. " ... you and me ... You wanted to..." She nodded. "Uh huh." He nodded back. " ... So I got rid of everyone..." Sarah's eyes went wide, and she clapped both hands over her mouth in shock. She stared at him, horrified. Joey watched her carefully. "Isn't that what you wanted to do?" he asked. "Not NOW!" she shrieked. ------- As Joey stood there, jaw dropped and expectations dashed, he became acutely aware of the heavy weight of the three condoms in his pocket. He stared at Sarah, astonished at her sudden change of heart. "What do you mean, not now?" he complained. Sarah held her face in her hands, hiding herself, and she started rocking in her stance, mumbling and whining. "Oh dear. I didn't know that ... I shouldn't have ... I'm sorry." She looked at him curiously. "You thought I meant now?" "YEAH!" he shouted. "What else was I supposed to think?" Sarah flinched as he yelled at her, and he saw her eye the door. "I'm sorry," she offered. "I just kicked my whole family out of the apartment so we could do this!" he yelled, pointing at the door. "What do you think I was doing out there?" Sarah shrugged. "I don't know. Asking your mom for permission?" Joey sputtered. "I ... I don't need to ask her permission to have sex! And by the way, I got it if you wanted to know. She's all for it." She blinked at the news. "Really?" "Yeah!" He stared at her angrily. "But you just made me push everyone else out of my home, and now you say you don't want to do it. Why the hell did you lead me on like that, you ... you cock-tease!" Sarah made a face is if she had just snorted a live insect. It was a strange combination of revulsion and confusion. "Cock-tease?" she asked, as if the words were alien to her tongue. "Yeah! Cock-tease! You know what that means!" Her revulsion oddly turned to a befuddled grin. "Nobody has ever called me one of those before," she giggled to herself, and then she looked at Joey curiously. "You mean ... you really wanted to..." Joey studied her face carefully. She wasn't hurt by his insult. If anything, she seemed to enjoy it. "Yeah, I wanted to," he answered. She stared at him in disbelief. "Oh." Her reaction completely confused him, and Joey realized that anger and insults was not the right thing to do at this moment. He held up his hands in a calming manner and took a deep breath. "Sarah," he said, and he sat on the side of the bed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you that, and I shouldn't yell at you. I'm just ... confused, okay? I thought that you wanted to have sex with me, and I thought you meant now." His apology relaxed her, and she actually smiled behind her fingers, and giggled softly to herself. Then she turned her eyes away from him, and blushed. "I'm sorry," she said. "It just can't be now." She lowered her head in shame. "I'm really not good at this." "No shit!" he thought to himself. He took another deep breath and calmed himself. "Come here." He gestured to the bed, indicating for her to sit as well. "I'd like to know what is going on." "You're not mad at me, are you?" "I'm not mad. I'm a little frustrated, but mostly confused right now." Sarah giggled to herself again. "I'm sorry." "It's okay. I just want to know what's going on." She blushed. "It can't be today." Joey nodded. "Okay." "It has to be a different day." "Okay. You mean like, our third date?" She giggled and blushed again. "No." She sat on the bed and took a deep breath. "It needs to be on November second at two fifteen in the afternoon." Joey stared and blinked at her for a moment. "I'll check my calendar." She brightened. "You will?" "I'm kidding! You..." His brain jammed again. "November second?" She nodded. "That's a Monday," she boasted. Joey blinked again. "Monday. At..." "Two fifteen," she offered brightly. "PM." He thought about it. "During Math class." She nodded. "You want to do it ... with me ... next month ... at two fifteen in the afternoon ... during math class." She smiled and nodded again. He paused. "You want me to just lean you over Mrs. Crawford's desk and..." "No, silly!" she giggled brightly. "We'd get a room!" Even though Sarah's smile brightened the room and warmed his heart, Joey paused and stared at her, his brain still frozen in its tracks. Her eyes were lit with enthusiasm, and she was smiling and giddy. "Why THEN?" Her eyes fell, and she looked about the room embarrassed. "Well ... You're going to think it's weird." "I already think it's weird. It get weirder?" She faltered and picked up her notebook. "Let me show you," she said, and started flipping through her book. Joey watched carefully as she turned the dozens of hand-written pages, all filled with diagrams and notes and conversations and thoughts and tables. By this time her moonlight weave robes had faded noticeably, and were about half-transparent now, revealing her black clothes underneath. She finally reached two pages with a large table of dates and times, and flipped the book around for him to see. "Okay," she explained. "These are all times and dates of full moons, going back to nineteen ninety-four. This..." she pointed at the first date, " ... was when I was conceived, on July twenty-third at six-forty-seven, Greenwich Mean Time." "Wait. Conceived?" "Uh-huh! Now I was born here, on April fifteenth, nineteen ninety-five, at..." "Wait. How do you know that?" "What?" "How do you know when you were conceived?" "What do you mean?" She gave him a confused gaze. "Well," Joey paused. "What did your parents do? Make a sex tape and time-stamp it?" Sarah blushed and giggled. "No, they didn't!" "Well, how do you know?" She shrugged. "I was told," she said a little evasively. "Your parents just TOLD you the moment your mom got pregnant with you?" She shook her head. "No. They didn't know then." Joey furrowed his brow. "Well, who told you?" Sarah hemmed and hawed, and said "I just ... KNOW ... okay?" And when she said "KNOW", she used electric blue air-quotes which hung in the air for several seconds afterward before fully evaporating. Joey watched the floating quotation marks for their full lifetime, and decided this was the best answer he was going to get. "Okay. So you were conceived on..." "July twenty-second at eight-sixteen in the evening Greenwich Mean Time." He nodded. "Uh-huh. And you were born on... ?" "Nineteen-ninety five, April fifteenth, at eight-ten PM, GMT." She pointed to the table in her notebook. "It was actually about four-ten in the afternoon in Connecticut." "Annie's birthday," he noted to himself. "That will be easy to remember." He nodded again. "And these are both..." "The exact moment of full moons," she said proudly. Joey looked at the table for several seconds, chewing on this information, but not digesting it at all. She pointed to another entry. "And over here is two thousand nine, November second, nineteen-fifteen GMT. Right now we are on Eastern Daylight Time, so we are only four hours behind Greenwich Mean Time, but on November first we switch to standard time again, so we'll be five hours behind. So that will be fourteen-fifteen Eastern Standard Time, or two-fifteen in the afternoon. See?" "Yeah, I see." "I really hate Daylight Savings Time," she added. "It makes time calculations really confusing." "Yeah, and we wouldn't want things to get confusing. So, you were conceived and born at the moment of full moons. Full moons are important?" Sarah nodded. "Yeah." "Why?" She cocked her head at him. "I'm Moonglow." "So it's a magic thing?" "Yeah. You see..." She flexed her fingers in thought. "Mages use cycles," she explained. "Some use days, some use weeks. Snow Angel uses seasons! I didn't know that until today. I use lunar months." "Lunar months? That's..." "The time between full moons. Actually, it's the time between two syzygies, but I'm oriented towards the full moon." Joey blinked. "Size-wedgies?" She giggled. "Syzygies. An alignment of three celestial bodies." "Okay. So..." "Right now I'm one hundred seventy-nine lunar months old," she said proudly. "Actually, since yesterday's full moon," she added. Sarah sat there, practically glowing with pride, and Joey just sat and stared at her, trying to figure out what the deal was with the full moons. Her moonlight weave robe was just glimmers of mist now. "Well, you're looking good," he offered. She blushed. "Thank you, but that's just fourteen years." She rolled her eyes around as she calculated. "Fourteen and a half," she corrected. Joey nodded, and inhaled. "I still don't understand what this has to do with me, and why you want to make love on that day." Sarah took a very deep breath and just held it for a moment. Her face turned crimson and she stared at the floor, idly swinging her legs on the side of the bed. "Well..." she started, and stopped. "Okay," she started again. She clutched the air, trying to grasp words. "It's like this." "Yes?" "It's important..." she enunciated, " ... when I ... lose my..." She flexed her fingers into several odd positions, trying to convey the idea without actually saying it. As she did so, Joey just watched in bafflement, forcing her to abandon this type of communication and nervously whisper the final word. "Maidenhood." "Your maidenhood?" She nodded, blushing. Joey gasped. "Oh! I see. You mean your virginity?" She flinched at the word, but nodded in agreement. "So you've never been with a boy before, have you?" Sarah shook her head. "No." "Actually, I don't know why I asked that. I kind of figured that out already." He watched her smile shyly, and enjoyed the sight. "So, you need to lose your virginity at the moment of a full moon, right?" She shrugged. "Well, as close to one as possible. I'd like it to be within the few minutes, but it can be up to a day away." Joey blinked. "But we just had one last night, right? I mean, we can do it right now, and that would count, right?" She nodded. "But it can't be just any full moon. It certainly can't be THIS one. It's got to be a special one." "What's wrong with this one?" She glared at him. "I'm a hundred and seventy-nine!" For the first time in the conversation, Sarah seemed to realize that her explanations were not explaining, and she huffed to herself and repositioned herself on the bed. "Look. When I lose my..." she mouthed the word "virginity" " ... my maidenhood is frozen, forever locked at that age. A hundred and seventy-nine is a prime number! I can't use it! But if I wait until I'm a hundred and eighty..." Her eyes went bright and she actually became giddy. "I can do so much with it! That's two times two times three times three times five! See? The permutations are amazing! I can divide it in so many different ways! Two, three, four, five, six, nine, ten, twelve, fifteen! ... For the rest of my life I can associate my maidenhood to a foundation of symmetries, and it's so flexible!" Joey stared at her, finally getting it. "This is all about spellcasting?" She nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! I can build using any binary antilogy, the three ages, the four Noble Truths, the five Chinese elements, the six Islamic articles of belief, the nine circles, the Ten Commandments, the twelve labors ... The possibilities are almost endless!" This was the first time Joey had ever seen Sarah actually excited about something. Her eyes sparkled with passion and she bounced slightly on her knees with enthusiasm. And the odd thing was, it left a sour hole in Joey's heart. He stood up and walked across the room, thinking, feeling, and reflecting, and then he turned to her. "So this really isn't about me," he said. "You don't need me, or want me in particular. You just need a penis." The sparkle died from her eyes. "Yeah," she confessed. "This isn't because you like me, or have any feelings about me. Right?" She didn't answer. She just looked at the bed in shame. "I feel so used." She shrugged. "I'm sorry. But when you said you were sorry for using me for publicity, I realized I was doing the wrong thing too." A very heavy weight filled the room for some time, and Sarah glanced about for her shoes. Her robes were now gone completely. "Maybe I should just go," she offered. "No, wait." Joey said, and he returned to the bed. "I was wrong. You're not using me. You're asking me for help, and I want to help you. This is important to you, so I want to help you." "Really?" "Really." "Why?" she asked. "Why?" She nodded. "Why are you helping me?" Joey smiled. He knew the answer. "You're my friend. I like you. I find you interesting." Sarah's smile returned, and she bashfully turned from him for a moment. "This is really going to happen, isn't it?" she asked. "Yeah." As she looked back into his eyes, Joey carefully reached out to touch her pale hand. She saw the movement and quickly snatched her hand away and turned to her notebook, flipping to the end of the book. "So we're going to need a permission slip," she decided, suddenly all business-like. "November second, two fifteen PM", she said as she wrote. She glanced up at him again. "How long do you think..." She stopped, suddenly realizing that her question was embarrassing, and blushed. "I mean, how long is..." Joey raised an eyebrow and followed her gaze as she glanced at his crotch. " ... or does it ... normally take?" she finally finished. Joey blinked and thought about it. "What, you mean the actual ... sticking in?" He held his hands up, one hand with his fingers in a ring, and the other he lined two fingers up to the ring. "Well, it's just this." He pushed his fingers through the ring. "Not long. A couple seconds, really. I think." Sarah blushed and cocked her head. "Well, I was thinking really more about ... prep work. Like getting ready for it." He smiled. "Well, I need to get my pants off, and we both know it doesn't take long for you to get naked." She giggled. "You may want to go to the bathroom first," he added. "Well, I was thinking about ... you know..." She held her hand up and gestured with one finger, moving it from a drooping position to a standing position. "How long does it take you to..." "Okay. First of all, if you're going to pretend this is a penis, you use two fingers, not one. Give me some credit." She clasped her hands over her mouth in embarrassment and snorted. "Sorry." "And second, if you're asking how long it takes me to get hard, well..." He thought about it. "It really doesn't take long, once I'm interested. I mean, I've never really ... TIMED it before, but ... It could take me five or ten seconds to get ready." Sarah seriously considered this, and turned back to her notebook. "So, we can get permission to leave at two-ten, and be back by two-twenty," she said, writing this down. "I..." Joey shook his head. "No, Sarah, it's not that simple." "What?" "I mean ... It's got to be more than ten minutes." "But you said it only takes like five seconds." "No, Sarah..." "But that's like, plenty of time!" "Not if I'm not interested." Sarah froze, and her face fell. "Oh." Her brow furrowed. "But you said you find me..." She stopped again, and practically wilted. "Oh. Right." She turned away from him. "Never mind." "What?" "Just forget it," she growled, and she picked up her shoes and started putting them on. He watched her for a moment. "No, I'm not going to forget it. What's wrong, Sarah?" She gave him a disgusted look and huffed at him. "What is it?" "Don't look at me!" she hissed, tying her shoes. Joey sat and watched her, jaw gaping, and completely baffled by her sudden change in mood. "What is her problem?" he wondered to himself. "What did I say? Why the hell did she suddenly get angry when I said I wanted more than ten minutes? She didn't get angry when I called her a cock-tease, so what's bothering her now?" He stood up in front of her. "No, I will look at you. Sarah, what's wrong?" "We both know!" she growled. "No, I don't know. That's the problem. What is it?" She scrunched her face in pain and held up one hand, hiding her face. "Just let me go," she cried. "I can't keep you here against your will, but I'll see you tomorrow, and I'll ask you then. And the day after that, and the day after that until you answer. I'm not letting this drop, so you might as well answer me now. What's the problem?" Sarah dropped her head and shook in silent crying. Joey dropped down on his knees in front of her and took her other hand. The Omegaplasm felt like it hit a brick wall. "I know what I look like, okay?" she said through her tears. Joey frowned and stared at her. "I'm a freak ... I'm ugly and ... you don't..." She broke down, crying. "Who says you're ugly?" Her face twisted in pain. "I just know." Joey sighed. He remembered seeing the word "UGLY" on the floor, and it all fell together. It all started to make sense to him. He caressed her hand. "Sarah, hasn't any boy ever told you how beautiful you are?" She looked at him quizzically through her tears, and shook her head. "You are one of the most beautiful girls in the school." She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head in denial, still crying. "And I am not the only one who thinks so. Jeff thinks so. So does Simon. They've told me." She peeked out and squinted at him, her crying subdued. He smiled at her. "Didn't you realize I wanted to have sex with you?" She shifted and wiped her eyes and nose, shrugging. "I ... wasn't sure." "It was why I got angry with you. Here I thought I was going to have sex with this beautiful girl, and suddenly you yanked it away from me. You were supposed to get angry with me when I called you a cock-tease, but you didn't." He smiled. "No wonder you took that as a compliment. Even a cock-tease has to be attractive." She bit her lip and giggled. "Did you think I needed more time so I could jerk off to a picture of some other woman for half an hour in order to get hard enough to stick it in you? Sarah, I didn't want to just take ten minutes out of class to go down the hall and poke you when the timer goes off and then head back to class. I want you for hours. I want to skip school that day and take you to a motel and smear you down with fruit and lick it off." She let out a burst of laughter. "Look!" He dug into his pocket. "If you were just some ugly girl who I was just going to mess around with once, I would have only gotten one of these." He pulled out the condoms from his pocket. "But I got three. See? I was going to go the distance with you." She stared at the condoms, and her mouth dropped open in astonishment. "Sarah, this is going to be your first time. It should be special. It should be magical. You need to enjoy it. I want to enjoy it. I look at you and I know I'll enjoy it. I'm looking forward to it." He reached up and caressed her cheek. "But it all starts with you understanding how beautiful you really are." Sarah inhaled, held her breath for a moment, and sighed. And with a soft fizzing sound, she turned her face away from him. Her face passed through his fingers, leaving a tingling sensation across his fingertips. "No, I'm not," she said as he instinctively yanked his hand away from inside her jaw. "I'm weird looking. I'm just ... Don't look at me." Joey, slightly repulsed by the fact that his hand just passed through a good portion of her skull, tried his best to keep his composure. As casually as possible, he wiped the static electricity off his fingers and onto his pants and pushed the thought out of his mind. "Sarah, I like looking at you. You're very pretty." She kept her face away from him and sniffed and shook her head. He got an idea. "Look, I'll prove it to you," he said. Joey immediately stood up, went to his dresser, and pulled an art pad and pencil from a drawer. As Sarah watched him carefully, he sat on the edge of his dresser, flipped the pages around, and looked at her. "Hold still, and just look at me," he said. And he started drawing. "What are you doing?" she asked. "Showing you..." he said, quickly sketching, making light strokes on the pad, " ... what I see..." Soft curves and gentle lines outlined white hair over white skin over a white background. " ... when I look at you." He concentrated on shades and shapes, portraying a face that betrayed a lifetime of shadows and concealment, shyness and sadness. "Don't..." she started. "Keep your hand still." "I'm not..." "Yes you are." Sarah glanced down and saw the arcane symbols she had unconsciously written on the bedspread. She quickly wiped them away before they engaged. "I need my book." "Hold still. Almost done." "Joey I need my..." He flipped the pad around and showed it to her. Sarah gasped and sat silently, enraptured at her portrait. "How did you do that?" He smiled. "This is what I learned when I was homeless. I had a lot of free time." Her eyes never left the portrait. "It's..." "Beautiful?" She nodded. "It's what I see." She shuddered. Joey handed her the art pad, and as she examined the portrait, he sat back on the bed with her. "When I was living on the streets," he began. "I used to play a little game with myself, trying to find things to draw. I used to pretend that there were some people or animals or just things that secretly wanted to be drawn. Wanted to be noticed. They were always secretly calling out 'Look at me! Look at me!' And I had to find them so I could draw them. And those pictures always turned out so good." He paused. "You keep saying 'Don't look at me, ' and I see you constantly hiding. You're wrapped up in these big black clothes and sunglasses and the hat, and you're always so quiet and in the background. I know that you're a mage and an albino, you're sensitive to light, and these probably make you feel like you're some outsider who doesn't fit in. I know what that feels like, but I have to tell you, these things make you interesting. They make you unique." He chuckled to himself. "If there's one thing I've learned from living with Tricia, it's that if you've got something unique, you don't hide it. You flaunt it." Sarah actually smiled at that. "Just try saying it," Joey suggested. She looked at him questioningly. "What?" "Look at me." Sarah blinked, and whispered. "Look at me." It wasn't very convincing. Joey nodded. "Keep your eyes on me and say it again." She stared at him. "Look at me." It was a little louder this time. "Again." "Look at me." Now it was confident. He could see a light of discovery in her eyes. "Very good," he said, taking the pad from her. "Keep going." "Look at me ... Look at me ... Look at me..." She grasped onto the phrase and leaned towards him, continuously repeating the phrase, and constantly staring at him, commanding him. The words seemed to focus her attention, and calm her, yet it also seemed to ignite a passion behind her eyes. Joey flipped to a new page and started drawing. "You're doing great. Do it mentally now. Just tell me telepathically. Just take that phrase and burn it into my brain." He drew with bold lines, capturing her intensity. Sarah continued to stare at him, her lips moving ever so slightly, and her chest expanding as she took deep breaths. He flipped the pad around and showed it to her. "Now that is a woman I want to devour." Sarah stared at the picture. "It's amazing," she said, her breath shuddering, and she looked back up at him. "It's like a mantra!" "A what?" "Words of power! But they aren't arcane. Yet they still work!" "See?" he said proudly. She glanced down at her hand. "Joey! Look!" She lifted her hand excitedly. "I didn't write anything! I didn't even write 'Look at me'! It was like, I was focusing on the words so much, I didn't need to write them." He glanced at her hand. "That's good, right?" "Yes!" She bounced on the bed, laughing, and then she stared at him intently. He could see a raw hunger in her eyes. Joey watched her curiously. "You're doing it again, aren't you?" She grinned excitedly and nodded her head. "This is wonderful. It's like a spell, more like a knack, it's so easy!" "Glad I could help." She glanced down at his hand, and calmed herself. "Thank you. I really can be beautiful?" He nodded. "You are. You always have been." Sarah reached down and took Joey's hand, and he instinctively let the Omegaplasm flow. This time it easily slipped into her hand, flowed up her arm, and into her chest. He could sense her body, mentally feel the swellings of her young breasts, her lungs filling, her heart beating quickly. Sarah glanced down at her arm as the power flowed through her, and she smirked at him. There was a fizzing sound, a slight gust of wind, and a tinkling of bells. Her hand dematerialized, passing through his, occupying the same space with a slight static tickling. A warm energy flowed up his arm and into his chest, spreading, filling, and saturating him. Joey looked down and saw his arm and chest glowing slightly. "What are you doing to me?" She grinned. "What are you doing to me?" she whispered back as an answer. He chuckled. "Exploring." "I'm enchanting." "That, you are." They moved their fingers together, not so much entwining but passing through each other, each hand in a slightly separate reality, but barely touching and intersecting. The sight wind caught her platinum blond hair, making it shimmer in the light from the eldrich energy that shined from her fingers, and her violet eyes sparkled with interest. He could feel her mind locked on a single thought, pulsing and calming her brain as she meditated on the simple command. And even though his abilities didn't allow him to simply read her thoughts, he knew what that thought was. "Okay, I'm looking at you," he said to the girl. "Now what do you want?" She giggled. "I was thinking about ... practicing." Joey smiled back. "Me too." They leaned towards each other, tilting their heads, and licking their lips. He could feel her body heat radiating on his cheeks and smell her faint sweet musk. "This is it," he thought to himself. "We're going to..." Joey suddenly stopped. "Wait," he said, pulling back slightly. "What?" she asked. "November second," he answered. "Oh." He paused. "Sarah, just to be absolutely clear, what technically, specifically, and ... anatomically ... has to happen on November second ... that can't happen today?" She exhaled, thinking. "Well..." She looked around, and he could feel her mind falter for a moment, but return to the repeated thought. The confidence boosted in her eyes again. "What has to happen then is ... a boy's penis has to ... push inside my vagina ... and break my hymen." Joey reflected on this. "Okay," he said, still leaning close to her, their heads nearly touching, and their lips a few inches apart. Her breath was sweet and warm. "Is there anything else that..." he asked carefully. " ... if done like ... a month earlier ... would spoil something important?" Sarah's violet eyes glanced about a bit. "Umm..." She chewed her lip. "No," she finally settled on. "As long as my hymen is intact, I'm okay." "You sure?" "Yes." "Cause I think you're going to experience a lot of first things here." "I know." "Good." "The definitions are pretty clear." "All right. Where were we?" "We were going to kiss." This was the fourth woman that Joey Harper had kissed, and that made it the fourth first kiss he had had. The first was Tricia, the second, Annie, and the third, Sandy. And with each kiss, he felt as if each woman transformed for him, changing from a fantasy of desire into a reality. But starting with Annie, he noticed that all women kissed differently. Tricia's kisses were a fiery passion, coming straight on, burning into him with hot lips and tongue, consuming, fingers grasping and clawing, while Annie's came in from low, solid and grounded, holding him deeply and allowing him to rest upon her. Sandy seemed to want to come in from high, with soft kisses that he had to reach for, and strong breath on his cheeks. But with Sarah, he knew instantly how her kiss would be. He recognized it the moment their lips touched. It was a softness bordering on the ethereal, yet filled with enchantment and charm. There could only be one word to describe her kiss. Magic. ------- Chapter 18: Practice and Perfection She tingled. That's how she felt to Joey. Sarah tingled. Her lips were soft and warm, and there was a slight tickling texture about her, like a faint layer of static electricity was covering her lips. It was a delightful kiss, filled with an intense curiosity and accented by a quivering excitation. Her breathing came in short ragged gasps, and her young body trembled as the pleasures revealed themselves to her. He could feel within her mind a tempest of activity, flashing bursts of inspiration in continuing chain reactions starting from deep inside her brain stem, branching out into several directions simultaneously, triggering parts of the brain he had come to recognize; raw fear, pleasure, excitement, imagination, and then desire. He could sense her fighting an internal battle between fear and pleasure, these portions of her brain flaring in conflict with each other, and each one alternately overwhelming the other. In moments of intense fear, her lips would soften, as well as her teeth, her jaw, and the rest of her skull as she dematerialized. Her face would literally pass into his, intersecting with his head. Joey initially was terrified at the possibility that she would solidify inside of him, fusing the two of them together in a fatal congealment like some freakish Star Trek transporter accident, but that fear was soon dispelled as he came to realize she was actually re-materializing inside him all of the time, and it never hurt. They simply, softly, and gently pushed apart whenever she returned. She made little animal sounds as they kissed. She mewed. She cooed. She squeaked. They were cute little vocalizations of hunger accenting her pleasures, rising higher and higher in tone as her thrills intensified. She fidgeted and squirmed, her fingers on her free hand clawing the air or the bedspread while the other entwined with his. He could sense a desire inside her for stimulation in her hands which then triggered a sense of fear. He figured this meant she wanted to touch him more, but was unsure if she should do it yet. There was a similar reaction occurring in the portion of her brain that handled her sense of taste as well. Her lips were warm and trembling, her breath soft on his cheek, and her body was tantalizingly close. The girl's alabaster skin and soft curves fascinated him. Her squeaks excited him. He could feel her body heat so close to him, stirring his desires. Her fingers glided across and through his, exploring and caressing, and a glowing warmth pumped through his arm and into his chest as she infused him with her energies. A strange tactile sensation of sweetness permeated him. Much like the way Snow Angel felt like mint, Sarah felt like sugar or a warm honey. He wanted to hold her closer, to pull her down to the bed, to feel her soft, warm body pressed up against his, to touch her, to explore her, and to taste her skin. His heart was pounding hard in his chest, and she made his spine shiver. Right now he wanted this girl more than anything else. His erection was starting to become a problem. His penis pushed painfully in his pants, growing against the strong fabric which was not making any room for him. He shifted his hips, trying to loosen his pants to allow his awakening member some relief. The shift pulled his lips away from Sarah, and she insistently pushed forward, hungrily reconnecting and resuming the kiss. She clasped his hand tightly, refusing him the opportunity to adjust himself, and he decided to simply continue the kiss to keep her happy, and to suffer through. The Omegaplasm permeated her body, exploring every inch of her. He was hyper aware of her soft breasts swelling, her nipples hardening, and her hips shifting as she squirmed on the bed. He could feel her attentions focusing on her clitoris as she squeezed the muscles in her groin. Her fingers moved in odd positions, directed from strange places in her brain into moving into stranger patterns, and Joey glanced down and saw the glowing glyphs forming on his bed. He pulled back, breaking the kiss. Sarah sat for a moment, relishing in the aftermath of the kiss, gasping. She let out a shuddering breath. "Oh wow..." she moaned. "You like that?" She nodded eagerly. "You understand now why I want more than ten minutes?" "Uh-huh." She nodded again, her violet eyes glassy, and her cheeks flushed. He glanced at her hand on the bedspread. "Um ... is that dangerous or something?" She squinted at him, then glanced down at the glyphs, frowned at them, and giggled. "Just ignore that," she said. "It's not like the bed is listening," she added, as if it was an explanation that helped. Joey nodded in agreement, figuring once more that this was the best answer he was going to get, and just decided to trust her on this matter. Their fingers were still entwined, and the Omegaplasm channel was still connected. He could feel her fighting desire and fear, and she rocked ever so slightly towards him. He knew what that meant. "Did you want to practice some more?" She nodded eagerly. Her eyes flared with hunger. He smiled and leaned in to her. "There's so much I want to show you," he whispered. She balked. "Wait." "What?" She hesitated. He could feel the fear building inside her. "I don't want to go too far." He nodded. "I know. November second." "Yeah, but ... We have a whole month to get there, and ... I don't want to, um ... I just need..." Nervousness consumed her. "You need time?" he offered. She inhaled, steadying her nerves. "Well ... we have four weeks, and ... outside of shoes and socks, I'm wearing four things, and you..." Joey squinted in confusion. " ... you're wearing probably three things. So that's seven articles of clothing ... so that means every four days we..." He shook his head. "Sarah. Are you planning out how far we get each day?" She stopped and bit her lip. "Um ... yeah." He gave her a smile. "That's the OCD talking," he realized. "She goes into organization mode when she gets scared." He squeezed her hand. "Sarah, this isn't something that we plan out. Lovemaking is all about passion, not organization. If you try to make a table for how far we get each day, it'll just kill the mood." She swallowed nervously and nodded in understanding. "We don't have to go any further than you want to go. Okay? You make some rules, and I'll honor them. But don't use math. Use your heart. Just go with what you feel comfortable with." She blushed and nodded again. "Okay ... Um..." She looked him in the eyes. "No laying down, and no taking our clothes off." His penis was still hard and painfully fighting against his pants, so to hear this request was particularly frustrating. "Damn," he thought as he glanced down at her chest. "I was really hoping to at least suck on her boobs and get a hand-job." He looked back up in her eyes and tried to give her a sincere smile. "Okay," he said instead. "No further than that." And he leaned in a kissed her again. As soon as their lips touched, Sarah let out a squeal and a shudder, and she grasped his hand tightly. They kissed, and she started rocking her body back and forth, inward and outward, pressing and pulling, and whimpering with pleasure. The movement confused him. She had just said that she didn't want to lay down, but Joey couldn't tell if that was true or not. She wasn't laying down, but she wasn't sitting still either. It was frustrating. He really wanted to just throw her onto the bed and start attacking her neck, but he made her a promise, and he intended to keep it. Her rocking started to get out of control, and he lifted one hand to her cheek. She jolted, and melted into his hand, quivering at the new sensation. He could sense her pleasure center lighting up, strobing her imagination, and igniting new desires. She followed suit, lifting a hand to his cheek as well, and she caressed him as he caressed her. Her mewing turned into a low growl, and she tilted her head further into the kiss. He could feel her jaw opening beneath her closed lips as both of her hands now held his face. "Well, she didn't forbid touching," Joey rationalized, and he reached with his other hand and pulled her body close to his. "Or tongues." He carefully opened his mouth and gently licked her lips, and Sarah let out a desperate groan. There as another flash of connections from her pleasure center to her imagination, branching to her sense of taste, and she parted her lips. Her tongue tasted like sweet honey as it timidly slid and swirled over his, and her body shuddered at the new sensation. She moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him tight as she kissed him deeply, probing his mouth with her tongue. Joey held her body close to him, and he could feel her young breasts pushing up against him. She started rocking again, rubbing her torso up against his as they kissed and licked each other's tongues. "No laying down" he had to remind himself, because her constant rocking threatened his balance, and her body was so tantalizing, and the bed so inviting. He wanted to pull her down to the bed, but he made her a promise. "But what if she wants to go further?" he wondered. He slipped the Omegaplasm into her pleasure center and gave her a slight ripple. Sarah convulsed, bucked, moaned, and her spine melted. She twisted in his arms and fell helplessly to the bed, pulling him down with her. They bounced happily against the soft mattress without breaking their kiss. Arms wrapped around each other, they held their warm bodies close and kissed and kissed. "Wow, that was easy," thought Joey. She was desperately and hungrily kissing him. She writhed next to him, squeezing her thighs together and churning her hips. Joey continued holding her close, caressing her back and spine, and probing her pleasure center. His penis still hurt from the confinement. Sarah was moaning, groaning, kissing him, holding and stroking his face, and Joey gently rolled her onto her back and started kissing her cheek, her jaw, and her neck. She gasped in pleasure and writhed under him. There was a unique taste to her skin. She tasted sweet without even a hint of the normal sweaty saltiness he had tasted on other women. He took advantage of the position to reach down and readjust his pants, relieving the pressure against his penis, and allowing his erection to expand comfortably. She shivered and groaned, and he felt a flash of fear from deep inside her brain stem. She gasped and opened her eyes. "Joey! We're lying down!" He pulled back from her. "Sorry. Did you want to sit up again?" She gave it a moment of thought. "No. This is good!" she breathed, and she pulled him back to her neck. Joey resumed kissing her neck, and she squirmed under him. She was breathing heavily now, gasping, panting, her chest repeatedly expanding and contracting, pushing her breasts up against his arm. "Yes ... Yesss ... Oh yes..." she hissed as he nibbled on her neck, and he moved back up to her lips and kissed her, slipping his tongue into her mouth and a fresh jolt of Omegaplasm stimulation into her pleasure center. She bucked and churned, and her legs thrashed as she kicked in excitement. "Sarah. I want you! I want you so bad!" He slipped his hand behind her back, caressing and stroking, and she pushed one hand to his chest. He heard a slight fizzing sound, and he could feel her bare fingers on his skin, which confused him, because he was still wearing his shirt. He broke the kiss and looked downward. Her fingers had passed straight through his shirt, and she was caressing his smooth skin through his clothes. He gave her a smile, and she grinned back. "That's not fair," he said. "I want to touch you too." Her eyes turned serious and empowered, and he could feel her mind returning to her "Look at me" mantra pattern. "Then touch me," she whispered back. Joey slowly moved his hand down her shirt and slipped it inside, caressing her side. Her skin was silky smooth and soft and warm, and it tickled with electricity. A soft tingling of bells and a gentle breeze permeated the room as he caressed her. She squirmed, gasped, and sighed under his touch, and Joey kissed her cheek. She giggled at his soft kisses and arched her back, pushing her breasts high as he kissed down to her neck. His warm hand roamed down low, across the small of her back, and then up her spine. She was quivering, and his fingers brushed up against her bra strap. He could feel the hooks, and knew just how to squeeze them to get them to release. "Not yet," he thought, and he slid his hand back down to her waist, and then up and over her soft belly. He propped himself up on one elbow and caressed her stomach. Sarah quivered and explored his chest, her fingers slipping down to his stomach. He gave her a grin and pulled her shirt up, exposing her navel. Sarah smiled and sighed, and he leaned down and kissed her stomach, making her tremble and shudder. He kissed lower, making a trail of soft kisses towards the top button of her jeans, and her brain lit on fire, flashing from imagination and desire. She let out a deep moan and she squirmed and squeezed her thighs together. He could feel her stimulating her clitoris. Joey smiled to himself and extended his tongue, gently licking her skin just under the top button of her jeans. Sarah squealed with excitement. Joey grinned to himself, and he started licking upward, following his trail of kisses, up past her stomach to the bottom of her ribcage. Sarah was panting now, hyperventilating, and writhing, and she arched her back. He could feel her attention move to her breasts, and she caressed them in anticipation. She squirmed and moaned under his attentions. "Joey," she started. "I want..." "What do you want, Sarah?" She gave him a ravenous look. "I want to feel you," she growled, and she took charge, pushing his shoulder and rolling him onto his back. She giggled as she climbed on top of him and straddled one leg, rubbing her crotch up against his leg while her thigh pressed directly onto his erection. She shifted and pressed her body on top of his, and frowned as she rubbed her thigh against his hard cock. Her eyes turned curious as she turned them towards his erection. "Is that..." she began. Joey nodded. "Yeah. You did that to me." Sarah smiled with pride. "How long has it been like that?" she asked with a sly grin. He shrugged and grinned back. "I don't know. First period English?" She giggled delightfully and lay down on him, her hands on his chest, and kissed him deeply. Their tongues intertwined in her sweet mouth, and her long platinum blond hair fell around them, waving in the mystic breeze. As he held her close, her fingers passed through his shirt and caressed his skin. She ground her crotch against his leg while rubbing his crotch with her thigh. She broke the kiss and kissed his cheek, and then down his jaw, and then down to his neck. He squirmed as her kisses tickled and excited him and sent shivers down his back. Her fingers and lips passed through his shirt to explore his chest, and she shifted downward, kissing, touching, and pressing her stomach against his erection, always keeping contact with it. He reached down and took the bottom of her shirt and, combined with her motion, started to pull her shirt up over her belly. Sarah sat up and bit her lip as she straddled his leg and toyed with the buttons on his shirt. He could see her hesitating, trying to make a decision. "She wants to take my shirt off, but she didn't want to go that far," he figured, and he pushed another wave of pleasure into her brain. Sarah shuddered in response, and he pushed himself up into a sitting position. They embraced, kissing hungrily, and she shifted her legs and straddled his hips. Her warm, soft body pressed up against him delightfully, and he caressed her back, and slipped his hands down over her ass. She held him tightly and squirmed on his lap, rocking and thrusting involuntarily. Joey continued flashing her pleasure center, and she grunted and groaned, and started pulling on his shirt. He kissed her neck. "What do you want, Sarah?" He could sense her fighting a battle in her mind, and he strobed her brain, intentionally overpowering her fears with pleasure signals. Sarah moaned, and started desperately pulling his shirt up off his back. He helped her remove his shirt, and they embraced as soon as his shirt was off. She groaned as she hugged him tightly, pressing her young breasts up against him, and she rocked on his lap and rubbed her groin up against his. Joey kissed her neck and cheek and flooded her brain with pleasure, causing her to whimper in response. He lifted her shirt up, up past her stomach, up, up, and up past her breasts. As soon as he pulled her shirt up past her shoulders, she grabbed the shirt and flung it aside, passing her arms and head straight through the fabric in the process. Her warm, soft skin pressed up against his, and it made them both shudder. Sarah moaned as they embraced, and they kissed and caressed and held each other. Stomach to stomach, chest to chest, naked arms wrapped around each other, Moon mist and Omegaplasm flowing, they sparkled with energy and passion. Her sweetness permeated his body, and a gentle mystic breeze accented by the faint tingling of bells swept the room. Her firm bra-enveloped breasts pushed into his chest, and Joey hungered for them. He started kissing down her cheek and neck, and Sarah gasped and rolled her head back, exposing more of her neck to him. "Yes. Oh yes. Oh Joey." she moaned. Her skin was like sugar, sweet and porcelain-white, and still without a hint of sweaty saltiness. She arched her back and leaned back into his arms, opening her chest to him, and he held her as he kissed lower and lower and lower, down her chest, until he could feel the soft swellings of her breast flesh against his chin. Her black bra snugly held her young breasts, and he tugged on one strap, pulling it over her shoulder. A burst of terror shattered her pleasures, and she shrieked and passed her arms straight through his body, clutching her chest and covering her breasts. Sarah stared at him in horror, gasping and panting. "What's wrong, Sarah?" He could see the abject fear in her eyes, and could feel her mind fighting itself. "Um..." She took several nervous breaths, and glanced at her chest in shame. "I..." She couldn't even begin. "Are we going too far?" he asked. "Did you want to put your shirt back on?" He could tell she was seriously considering it, so he held her close, pressing more naked skin against naked skin, and he pulsed her brain. She shuddered, and shook her head. "They're just not..." she started, but was too embarrassed to continue. He glanced down at her breasts. They were small, much smaller than breasts he was used to. They were nowhere near the gargantuan melons that Tricia had, or were even close to Annie's or Sandy's double-D's. These were mere handfuls, but they surprised him in how much they enchanted him and ignited his desires. "She knows, or at least she suspects that I'm used to really huge breasts," he reasoned. "So she must not feel like she measures up." He reached up and touched her chest, caressing the top flesh of her breasts. "I want to see them." She shook her head in shame. "You won't like them," she mumbled. "That's my decision, isn't it? I like them so far. What's wrong with them? You think they're too small?" She gave a noncommittal shrug. It was neither a yes or a no. Joey felt her mind light in several unexpected places. "She thinks they are too small, but that's not it. There is something else." He pulled her hips closer to him, grinding her crotch up against his erection. "Well, we can try a little experiment," he said. "Here's how it works. I kiss your breasts, and if I go soft," he ground his crotch against her. " ... that means I don't like them. But if I get harder for you, that means I like them and they make me want to fuck your brains out." He got a smile and a small chuckle out of her for that, but she didn't release her breasts. "I'm just ... they're not..." She couldn't bring herself to complete the sentence. "They're not what?" "The same," she confessed. "The same as what?" he asks. She swallowed and took a deep breath. "As each other," she finally explained, and she hung her head down in shame. "What?" He glanced down and back up into her eyes. "You mean, like one is bigger than the other?" She nodded again shamefully. Joey looked down at her breasts. He didn't see any real obvious size difference between them, but it was difficult to see them with her arm in the way. "Tricia and Annie have both said that to me," he reflected. "Both of them have said they have slightly uneven breasts, and I've never noticed it." Sarah's eyes darkened, and he could feel her mind overwhelmed with a new pattern. Shame, he decided it was. Embarrassment. His heart ached for her, seeing her in this pain. "I need to do something," he decided. "What was it she wanted? Validate her. That's what she needs. It's not just a matter of feeling attractive, it's feeling balanced." "Okay," he said. "First of all, if there is a size difference, it must be really tiny because I can't see it." She didn't look convinced. He continued. "I understand that you can see it because they're yours, and you get to see them every day, and you have to deal with them. And you've got OCD which makes you really sensitive to these things, and you're magic, so symmetry is really important to you. But the only thing I see is that they are beautiful." She smiled and blushed. "And as a horny boy, I have to tell you I will do anything in my power to get into your bra and play with your boobies." She laughed. He smiled and gave her rump a playful squeeze as he continued. "And second, I think if you're slightly uneven, I've heard that's actually normal. Nobody is completely even. So this doesn't make you a freak. This makes you real." Her eyes turned hopeful, and he kissed her gently on her lips. "So let's just takes things slowly," he said, and he gave her another kiss. "And remember, lovemaking is about giving yourself to someone, flaws and all. I never expected you to be perfect, but I still want you." Sarah cocked her head and sighed, and pulled her arm tighter around her breasts, protecting them. He could feel her mind fighting again. "Maybe we should..." she started, but stopped as she glanced at his chest. She stared at his chest long enough for Joey to become puzzled, but then she gently moved her arm and brushed her fingers over the scar on his left side, over his heart. Joey watched her as she explored his wound. "Nobody is perfect," she whispered to herself. "No," he answered. "Not even me." She traced her fingers over the perimeter of the scar, tenderly touching it. Then she looked up at his face and touched a slight scar she found over his left eye. "You really think they're beautiful?" Joey nodded. "Yes. They are." Sarah smiled, pulled him in close, and kissed him deeply. They resumed kissing, necking passionately, and she relaxed and eventually passed her breast-protecting arm straight through his body again to wrap around him and hold him close. They soon slipped back into the old rhythm and intensity, moaning and rocking on the bed, grinding their crotches together. Their tongues glided over each other, and she tilted her head to one side. As she leaned, Joey moved his hand up to her side and flowed Omegaplasm into her body, sending cascading ripples of pleasure into her brain. She groaned and twisted her torso slightly, opening her chest towards him. He slid his hand upward and inward, ever so slowly, carefully caressing and warming her skin, until his fingers delicately brushed the side of her breast. Sarah shuddered and moaned in their kiss, hesitated, and coaxed by another pleasure wave, leaned into his hand, encouraging him to continue. He slid his hand over her bra, cupping her soft and warm breast, and she groaned and churned her hips. She broke the kiss, looked down, and saw his hand over her breast. He gave her a gentle caress, exploring her gentle contours. "Do you like this?" he asked. She nodded, and pulled him in for another kiss. Her tongue sensuously slid over his, and her sweetness permeated his body. She rocked and ground against him, pushing her crotch into his rock hard penis, and as he caressed her, she pushed her breast hard into his hand, coaxing him further. He gave her a gentle squeeze, and she moaned into his mouth. She shifted her shoulder and torso, grinding her breast into his hand, and he responded, squeezing and exploring the soft mound. He started moving his lips downward, kissing her cheek, her jaw, her neck, and Sarah leaned back in his arm, exposing her neck and chest to him. He was holding her breast and lifting it while kissing down her chest. She whimpered and bucked, grinding into him. His lips finally touched the fleshy top of her mound, and she gasped and churned, and held onto his head as she panted frantically. A fresh burst of bells and breeze erupted in the room, and Joey explored as much of her sweet breast as he could access, kissing, licking, holding, fondling, tasting her sugary skin and relishing in the gentle softness of her mound. She was panting frantically, breathing heavily, and he could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest. He kissed across her breast, gently licked her cleavage, and made his way to her other breast. She moaned and hissed, and leaned in his arm, opening herself, allowing him access to her other breast. He could feel the flashes of panic in her mind fighting her desires. He was starting to get better at recognizing the signals of her sexual desires as just opposed to her pleasures, and he gave her an experimental push to enhance the desire signals. Sarah growled, bucked, squirmed on his hips, and grabbed his head. She pulled him back to her lips and kissed him savagely, pushing her tongue deep into his mouth. Joey sucked on her tongue while he reached around her back and felt for the hooks on the back of her bra. As he started to fumble with them, Sarah simply hooked one thumb under a bra strap and pulled. FRIMMM! She partially dematerialized in his arms for a fraction of a second, pulled the bra straight through her body, and threw it to the floor. She then wrapped her arms around his body and squeezed hard, kissing him, and rubbing her naked breasts up against his naked chest. She kissed and writhed against him, smashing and smearing her bare chest against his, grunting and growling, and squeezing him tightly. Sarah Moonglow Abercrombie was now topless and Joey's entire center of desire was now focused on the two simple mounds of flesh that pressed against his chest, and he twisted and fought against her grip, and finally managed to push her down to the bed. Sarah flopped on her back, but never relinquished her grip on him. Holding him tightly, she kissed him frantically as he repositioned his legs between hers, and soon he was thrusting and dry-humping his hard cock into her crotch. There was no hiding this motion; it was pure fucking, and Sarah eagerly spread her legs wide open in a raw invitation for him to plunge deep inside her as he ground his jeans into hers. He broke the kiss and crawled down her chest. Sarah lay gasping and bucking, and he didn't waste any time with the teasing, kissing trail down her cheek and neck. He could see her breasts, her simple white mounds capped with small nipples so light he could barely distinguish them, and they were everything he could want. He went straight for her breast and sucked one whole white mound into his mouth. "OHH!" Sarah yelped, and she bucked and arched her back, pressing her chest up hard into his face, and Joey slid one arm under her body, holding her tight. Her hips convulsed and thrust against him, humping frantically, and a fresh burst of bells and wind filled the room, knocking over a can full of colored pencils on his desk. He sucked and licked her breast fiercely, and she clawed at his head, writhing and twisting and grunting under him. "Yes! Oh yes! Please!" she panted, and he reached up and took her other breast in his hand and held it firmly, fingering her hard nipple and exploring the full size of her mound. Sarah's breasts were beautiful and sweet and soft and warm, and his cock was raging for her. He let go of one breast and slid his face between her heavenly mounds, licking her cleavage, and Sarah gasped in ecstasy. "Oh yes..." she moaned. "Do you ... do you like them?" she managed. Joey groaned into her bosom. "Oh yes! Oh Sarah!" He held her breasts together with both hands and kissed them passionately. "I love your breasts. They're so beautiful." He could feel a glow of warmth in her mind as he saw her smile with pride, and with one last nuzzle and long suckle on her other breast just to keep things symmetrical, he started kissing upward, up her chest and to her neck. "So beautiful ... so beautiful..." he whispered, and she writhed under him as he returned to her lips. "You're so beautiful," he repeated once more, and as they kissed, he lay his hard cock up against her and thrust hard. Sarah wrapped her arms and legs around him and held him tight, matching his thrusting. "I want to fuck you," he said between kisses. "I want to fuck you so bad!" "Fuck me!" she hissed. "Fuck me now." Joey didn't waste any time. Still kissing her, he reached down to his pants and started fumbling with his belt and fastener. Sarah reached down as well and grabbed onto her own jeans and just pulled on the hem. With a fizzing sound, her legs and hips dematerialized and she quickly extracted her pants and underwear in one quick motion while Joey rolled through one leg and started frantically pulling his pants and underwear down. As he clumsily kicked and pulled his own legs out of his pant legs, she casually lay on her side and watched him, enraptured at the first sight of his bouncing erection. "That is not fair!" he said, as he finally got his pants off, and turned to her. Sarah giggled as she lay next to him totally naked, with one hand bashfully draped over her sex. Joey, finally naked as well, lay on his side next to her, and they just looked at each other for a moment. Her pale skin literally glowed in the darkness of the room, illuminated from a magical life within her, and her young breasts heaved with her heavy breathing. She stared up at him, her exotic violet eyes enchanting him, and she occasionally glanced down at his hard penis. Her fingers moved oddly as she looked at him. Joey reached for her and lightly brushed his fingers over her arm, reestablishing his connection to her mind. He could feel her curiosity building. "You've never seen one before, have you?" She blushed and dipped her head down to shake in response, a maneuver that allowed herself the opportunity for a longer look. "No," she answered. "At least, not up close." She took a deep breath and squirmed, shifting her hips and moving her hand around her crotch. Joey could see how she was fighting between bashfulness and curiosity, trying to decide whether to relinquish her hand that covered herself so she could touch him. He gave her a warm, supportive smile. "Go ahead." She smiled, and slowly moved her hand aside. Her pubis was snowy white, and if there was any pubic hair yet on the fourteen year old girl, he couldn't see it. Her fingers edged closer and closer to his penis, and he flexed his groin muscle, causing his erection to bounce. Sarah squealed and giggled in surprise, and resumed moving closer to him. He could hear the faint chimes of mystic bells and feel the slight breeze as magical energy trickled through the room. She brushed him and gasped, sending a delightful tickle through his engorged member, and smiled as she rested her warm fingertips on the side of his shaft. Joey gave her an approving groan, and she cautiously slid her fingertips over his penis, delicately exploring and caressing his manhood. Her simple and fragile touches sent shivers through his spine, and he grunted and shifted his hips, pushing his penis closer to her. Her fingers fizzled and passed through him, stimulating the blood and tissue inside him. The sight and thought of fingers passing through his penis kind of disturbed him, and he tried not to think too much about it, concentrating on the tactile sense of sweetness that flowed into his penis. "You like that?" she asked sweetly. He thought about it. "It's a little weird," he decided on. "Not used to things being inside it." She chuckled, solidified her fingers, and continued to caress him. "How's this?" That felt good. "Yes. Much better." She smiled, and experimentally wrapped her fingers around his cock, giving him a gentle squeeze. "Mmm. Yeah!" Joey gasped. "Better?" she asked. "Yeah." Sarah twisted her hand around and started a slow stroke. "It's so warm, and hard," she growled. "I like it," she giggled. Joey groaned as she lovingly slid her fingers up and down his sensitive shaft. "I'm supposed to stroke it like this, right?" she asked. "Oh ... yeah!" he gasped and shifted, and closed his eyes to relish in her touch. Sarah smiled proudly and continued stroking him, watching him writhe in pleasure under her adept manipulations. She used long, sensual strokes that pushed deep into his base and then pulled up over his crown, tickling the sensitive undersides. Joey squirmed as she stroked him. She was good, really good at stroking his cock. Almost an expert. Joey peeked at her with one eye. "You're good at this," he said. She smiled. "Thank you!" "No, I mean you're really good." She gave him a weird stare. He continued. "Like, have you done this before?" He could feel her mind light up, alternating between states of imagination and processing. It settled on reconstruction. She shook her head. "No," and she continued stroking him, dragging her fingernails over the underside of his cock, a maneuver that sent tingles through him. "First time." Joey gave her a skeptical look. Sarah blushed, and her mind pulsed with creativity. "I do a lot of ... reading," she explained. "Really?" He smiled, and scooted closer to her. "What do you read?" "Good stuff," she answered, still stroking his hard cock. He reached down and rested his hand on her wide hip. "Do you touch yourself when you read good stuff?" Her mind flashed to reconstruction. She smiled bashfully. "Yes." "Where?" he asked, sliding his fingers down and inward. Her mind shifted, and she gave him her serious, empowered "Look at me" stare. "You know where," she said, and she pushed forward and kissed him passionately. As she kissed him, with her nectarous tongue sensuously sliding over his and her fingers gliding over his engorged cock, she lifted her leg, opening her crotch to him. Joey slid his hand down into her sex, first encountering a downy softness of her nearly invisible pubic hair, and then her sopping wetness. He brushed his fingers over her outer lips. Sarah bucked and groaned into his mouth, and she squeezed his cock hard in response. He dragged one finger along the length of her opening, smearing the warm, slippery juices across her labia, working the lubrication, and tenderly exploring her most intimate place while she quivered and shook in joy. He slid upward and brushed his finger against her clitoris. Sarah jolted and moaned loudly into his mouth, and instinctively pulled on his cock, guiding him towards her. She rolled on her back as he climbed on top of her, still kissing, still fondling, still holding, and as he positioned himself above her, she spread her legs open wide, inviting him inside. Joey ground his lips and tongue into her mouth and took her shoulders in his hands, and tensed his hips. She lined his penis up against her vagina. The moment his cock head touched her opening, Sarah broke the kiss and arched her head back, gasping deeply. "Fuck me," she breathed, and her violet eyes locked on his. "I'm gonna fuck you, Sarah," Joey grunted, and he pressed forward. His cock pushed past the folds of her labia. Sarah's mind suddenly flashed with terror, and her eyes opened wide in panic. "WAIT!" she screamed, but Joey didn't wait. He plunged deep inside her... FRIIIMMM! ... and straight into the bed. His hard cock slammed right into the sheet as his hips and lower torso merged with hers. Sarah still held his cock with an iron grip in both hands, and she lay under him, her own hands passing into her own hips, a position no other human being could get into, and was breathing heavily and staring at him in shock. "Ow!" Joey yelled. "Sarah! Why did you..." "I'm sorry!" she blurted. "November second." Joey grimaced and dropped his head onto her bare shoulder. "Oh, fuck!" he growled, remembering. "I'm sorry. I forgot." "Me too," she gasped. "God, that was close." "Yeah." "This was just supposed to be practice." "I know," she whined. "Damn it!" "Oh god," he sighed into her neck. "And you're so good at it too." Sarah laughed and kissed his shoulder. "Can you pull out of me? I want to be real again." As he lifted his hips, extracting them out of hers, Joey wondered about the fact that his cock was officially inside of her even though neither one could feel it. "Um, that didn't count, did it?" Sarah thought about it as she solidified her body, and released on hand from his cock to give herself an exploratory probe. "No," she said with some relief. "You didn't break it." He sighed in equal relief. "Oh, good." "Still a virgin." she breathed. "I'm sorry," he panted. "I just want to fuck you so bad." "Me too," she said, taking his cock in both hands again, stroking him and squeezing him, and kissing his neck and shoulder. "I understand now." He nuzzled into her neck and thrust his cock in her grip. "Understand what?" he gasped. "Why she didn't wait until her infused maidenhood was forty-eight seasons," she said through heavy breaths. "She must have gotten so fucking horny!" She squirmed under him, rubbing his dick against her pussy. "Oh!" she moaned. "I want to fuck you so much!" Joey really had no idea what she was talking about, but considering what she was doing to his cock, he really didn't care. He continued thrusting on top of her, pushing his hard dick into her eager hands, and she rubbed her enclosed hands up against her pussy, grinding her knuckles into her clitoris. He kissed her, and dropped his head down next to her neck. "IT DIDN'T COUNT!" she suddenly shrieked. He snapped his head up. "What?" She gave him a look as if he was distracting her from something else. Her face scrunched up in embarrassment. "Sorry. Not talking to you." "Who are you talking to then?" Her mind flipped into a creative mode. "The universe?" she tried. "My fears?" She gave him a warm smile. "It doesn't matter. I'm okay." Joey stared at her with concern, and she gave him her 'Look at me' stare. "Kiss me," she commanded, and he did, the moment forgotten. He swirled his tongue around hers and thrust his cock into her hands, and she squirmed and writhed under him. Her breasts, hot and young, were pushed together by her arms and pressed into his chest. Sarah bucked and broke the kiss. "Can you just ... push it in ... just a little bit?" she gasped. "So I can feel it?" Joey seriously debated it. He could feel her mind overwhelmed with sexual desire, and he wasn't quite sure how much of it was his doing. He pulled back. "No, Sarah." He pulled his hips away from hers. "And believe me, I want to, but I don't know if I can trust myself, and I made you a promise. You're at a hundred and seventy-nine now. A hundred and eighty is a good number." She whined and writhed under him, and he continued. "On November second, I'm going deep inside your hot pussy, and I'm going to stretch you out and make you cum hard." She moaned and bucked in anticipation. "But for right now, you just need to cum, right?" She squirmed and pulled his cock towards her pussy. "Yes! Please!" "Okay," he said, and he pushed forward. Sarah let out a deep breath of relief as his cock head touched her clitoris. "Just keep your hands there." As he repositioned his knees to get a better thrusting angle, he thought longingly about the bottle of lubricant in the other room, and smiled as he had another idea. The Omegaplasm flowed into her, down through her arms and into her hands, where he slightly altered her level of friction. She squinted and flexed her now slippery fingers around his penis. "What are you doing to me?" "Just making things a little more interesting. You ready?" She nodded and squirmed under him. "Yeah." "Just keep it lined up like that." Joey started pounding, fucking his hard cock into her hands, and Sarah let out a yelp of pleasure as he thrust his rigid shaft through her slippery fingers and pushed into her swollen clitoris. She screeched and groaned and writhed as the sensations burst from her clit, shot straight into her brain, and exploded with ecstasy. Joey could sense her brain flash with activity as the pleasures branched out to every part of her body, and she bucked and squirmed and arched her back. Her young breasts bounced and sloshed on her chest, and she moaned loudly and ground her clit into his pumping member. "Ohhh ... fuuuuuccckkk!" she moaned. Her oily fingers slipped around and meshed together, and she created a cock tunnel with her palms. Squeezing and kneading his dick in her hands, she kept his cock head pressed up against her clitoris while her fingers pushed deep into the base of his shaft. Joey convulsed and thrust, the pleasures consuming him as he fucked his hard cock into her hands. His cock burned with pleasure, and he gasped and groaned as he stabbed her. Sarah writhed and twisted. She thrashed and moaned, and her skin started to glisten with energy. The gentle mystical breeze turned into a steady wind, and the occasional tingling of bells turned into a constant background jingle. Joey didn't know where they were coming from, and he didn't care. He paid no attention to the arcane glyphs that formed on the bed either, nor the concentric energy circles that materialized around them. He simply grasped her shoulders and plunged deep and hard into her soft, slippery hands. It didn't take long. The pleasures soon became too intense, for he could feel his testes twinge with readiness. He was moments away from cumming, and he wanted her to cum with him. "You ready to cum?" he panted. She nodded, hyperventilating and writhing. "Cum! Cum now!" she panted. He reached into her mind and drowned her with ecstasy. Sarah orgasmed. She jolted, shrieked, and literally flashed with moonlight as she let out a long throaty scream. The room reverberated with what had to be the sound of a gong, and the wind whipped into a gale force, rippling his posters, artwork, and the curtains. She pulled and ground his cock deep into her clitoris, and Joey couldn't take it anymore. He let loose and sprayed, blasting her clit with a jet of hot seed. He pushed and thrust and roared, emptying his balls over her belly. Orgasms died, fell, and Joey and Sarah, gasping and panting, relaxed and flopped down, resting. Winds died, bells and sigils faded, and the two lovers melted into each other. "Oh ... oh fuck ... Oh my light, that was good..." Sarah breathed into his neck. Joey just gasped in agreement, and closed his eyes, resting on top of her. ------- "Ick!" For several luxurious minutes, they had just lay together, breathing, relishing, and catching their breath. But now Joey had felt her mind suddenly flash in a new direction, and he lifted himself up off her. "Huh?" he asked. She let go of his now softened penis and was holding her wet hands up over her body, her dripping fingers spread out in claws. "Ew! Ick!" she repeated as she grimaced. "What is it?" She looked down at the blobs of sperm that had puddled over her belly and ribs, and her face twisted into revulsion. "It's ... all ... over ... me!" she gasped in revulsion. Joey rolled to her side and looked over her heavenly body. She was covered in his sperm. "Yeah, I made mess, didn't I?" he said proudly. "Ick! Ew! ICK!" she cringed at the sight, and she kicked and flexed her fingers in disgust. "Get it off me!" she shrieked. Joey could see that now the passion was no longer controlling her, her OCD was taking over. He reached for her cheek and turned her face to him. "Sarah? Sarah!" Her violet eyes were wide with horror. "Don't freak out! It's just sperm!" "EWWW!!!" she recoiled. "There's nothing wrong with it. It's not dirty." "It's all hot and sticky!" she whined and thrashed. "Ew! Get it OFF!" "Sarah! Look at me!" "EWW!!!" She was really starting to freak out now. He pulled her face to his again. "Remember your mantra! Look at me! Say it! Say 'Look at me!'" Sarah was gasping in panic. "EW ... um ... Look ... Look at me..." She started to calm down as she said the words. Joey nodded. "Good. Say it again," he coaxed her. She took a deep breath. "Look at me." "Good. Good," he said, crawling off the bed but keeping his eyes locked on hers. "Just don't freak out. Just keep saying that." "Look at me ... Look at me..." she repeated breathlessly as she cringed on the bed. "You're doing great, Sarah," he consoled as he backed towards the bathroom door. "You're beautiful. Keep doing it." "Look at me. Look at me. Look at me." She focused on the words, keeping her eyes locked on him. "Look at me ... Look at ... DON'T GO AWAY!" He had reached the door and was reaching inside. "I'm not going away. I'm just getting you a towel." He blindly pulled a couple towels from the towel rack in the bathroom, and showed them to her. "Here. See?" he said, holding the towel out. "It's like I'm talking down a jumper." "I've got you a towel! We'll clean you up." As he approached the bed, Sarah sat up, breaking her eye contact with him. She looked back down at the globs of wet sperm that now dripped and drooled over her body. "EW!" she shrieked. "Here's your towel," he said, handing it to her. "No!" she shrieked, and she batted the towel away. "Floor!" she commanded, waving her hand frantically at the towel. "Floor?" She gave him a panicked nod. "Yeah! On the floor," she babbled. Joey squinted at her in confusion. "You want the towel on the floor?" She nodded again, still panicking as she watched the globs of sperm drip down her, and she cringed again. "Okay!" he said, and he spread the towel on the floor for her. "It's on the floor." As he stepped back, Sarah jumped off the bed and stood on the towel. Then she clutched her hands into fists and concentrated. FRRIIMMM!!! Sarah pulsed with energy, and for a brief fraction of a second Joey thought he could see straight through her naked body. The blobs of sperm dropped right through her and landed on the towel in wet splats. Sarah finally relaxed and let out a healthy sigh of relief, and smiled at him as she carefully stepped off the towel and crawled back onto the bed. "Oh ... good!" she sighed as she touched her dry belly. Joey stood there, dumbfounded as he watched the girl crawl sensuously across the mattress. Her entire demeanor had shifted back to confidence again. He looked at the towel and saw the creamy puddles there, and then back at her. "Oh, now that's cool!" he said, wiping himself with his towel. Sarah grinned and fluffed her long hair out. "You mean, that's all you have to do to clean yourself up?" She nodded, smiling, and watched him as he wiped his penis clean. "Thank you!" she sighed. "That is not fair," he complained. "You know that?" She giggled and shrugged, and scrunched her nose at him proudly. "Can you keep a secret?" she asked. "Sure," he said climbing back into bed with her. They embraced and kissed, and lay down and snuggled together. She seemed to avoid getting close to his crotch, for fear of getting wet or sticky again. She instead lay and propped her head on up one elbow. Joey could feel her mind again, fighting and trying to make a decision. "What's your secret?" he prodded her. She smiled. "Promise not to tell anyone?" He nodded. "I promise." She gave him a devious smile and came to a decision. "I haven't had a bath or a shower in about six years," she confessed. Joey gawked at her, and glanced down at her white body. She was completely clean. Practically sparkling. "You mean you don't ever..." "Nope!" she grinned. He looked down, looked back up at her eyes, and back down again. "Really?" "I don't need to!" she boasted. "I just fade, and all the dirt just falls off me!" She cocked her head and smiled at him. "I don't even have to brush my teeth!" she boasted. Joey seriously looked at her mouth, examining her pink lips and white teeth. He leaned forward and sniffed her breath. It was warm and sweet, and she exhaled deeply, letting him smell her breath. He savored the sweet aroma, and then playfully lifted one of her arms and shoved his nose deep into her armpit. Sarah shrieked with laughter as he took in one long, silly, snuffling whiff. "Stop that!" she laughed, his nose tickling her. "You are completely clean!" he said, almost complaining as he extracted his face from her armpit. He leaned in and licked her chest playfully. "You don't even taste like sweat." Sarah grinned in pride, and gave his chest a playful lick. "You do," she said, snuggling up to him. "I like it. You're salty." "You taste sweet," he said, and thought about it. "Kind of like marshmallows," he decided. Sarah giggled at the image. "You know, when we do this next month? I'm going to bring some chocolate sauce and graham crackers, and turn you into a giant S'more." "Ew. Ick!" she said playfully. She nuzzled into his chest and held him, and they just lay and cuddled, relishing in the afterglow. Joey's muscles felt gooey and warm, and his fingers and toes tingled in post orgasmic bliss. Her warm, soft body pressed up against his, comforting and pleasing him, and he stroked his fingers through her long hair. His heart swelled, for Sarah Moonglow Abercrombie was now his girlfriend, and he felt a strong surge of pride as he reflected on that fact. He could feel her mind flashing in new patterns. Creativity and sensory reflection made small storms of thought that circled and enriched her brain. He wondered what she was thinking about, and as he gazed over her chalky white form, he thought about their future together. He wondered how far it would go. Dates, movies, dinners, sleepovers, careers, marriage, children. He wanted to know more about her. What made her excited? What did she like? What were her dreams? "Each woman is a treasure of unimaginable riches," he remembered hearing someone say. "Be prepared to explore her for years." He kissed the top of her head lovingly and caressed her soft shoulder. "Hey!" he said. "You ever go to Downtown Silver Spring?" She shook her head. "No. What is it?" "It's a great place. I want to take you there. They have a lot of shops and restaurants, and a couple movie theaters, and they have live music and this craft bazaar. They've got a new skateboard park, and they just opened a costume shop. You want to go?" Her mind flashed to pure creativity. "Sure!" she said. "Sounds fun." Joey frowned, for it was the very first conversation he had had with her since thinking of her as his girlfriend, and Sarah Moonglow Abercrombie had just completely lied to him. ------- Chapter 19: Reconstruction and Creativity He didn't know what it was that tipped her off. He tried to be quiet, to show no response, but she still noticed. Maybe he sighed. Maybe it was some magical sense she had. Or maybe it was just plain old God-damned feminine intuition. Whatever it was, when she turned her head and stared at him with her beautiful violet eyes, Joey knew that Sarah had sensed something was wrong. "You don't want to go out with me," he sighed. "Do you?" She opened her mouth to speak, sighed, and rested her head on his bare chest. "Of course I do," she said, her mind flashing to creativity. She watched his eyes, saw his skepticism, and sighed again. Her mind flipped into new patterns. "It's just that ... I'm worried. Will that photographer be there too?" Joey groaned and closed his eyes in shame. "Oh, yeah," he admitted. "And others. I'm sorry. I forgot." He could feel her mind change to reconstruction. "Plus," she added, "I really don't go to movies. They get scary sometimes." That made sense to him too. He imagined her sitting in a theater watching a film, and on the giant screen, the murderer suddenly jumping out of nowhere, shocking the whole audience into mass screaming. Sarah had good reasons to not want to be startled, especially out in public. "I see." He sighed. "So that's why you don't want to go? Because of the photographers, and the movies?" Her mind when creative again. "Yeah," she said. Joey sighed again. Another lie. "How did you know?" she asked. "Hmm?" She stared at him carefully. "You weren't thinking about the photographers, and you didn't know I don't watch movies. So why did you think I didn't want to go?" Joey hesitated, and Sarah rolled onto her stomach and partially lay on top of his body. She propped her head on her hands, with one elbow passing straight through his chest and into the mattress, and she stared at him, waiting for an answer. "Well?" she prodded him. He looked down at her arm. "Do you have to do that?" She stared at him with her new 'Look at me' stare, refusing to be distracted. "How did you know? What is it?" Joey took a deep breath, and idly wondered how much of that air was passing through her arm. He made a decision. "Okay. I need to be honest with you about something." He shifted, extracting his body from her arm, and sat up against the headboard. He could see her eyes dart down to his naked penis for a moment, but quickly return to him. "It's my powers," he said. "I'm attuned to you now." She stared at him quizzically. He reached out and took her hand, sending the Omegaplasm into her body. Her arm immediately started glowing and dripping with blobs of light, and she looked at her arm and the blobs curiously. "My powers only work on people who I have some emotional connection with. And after you and I ... well ... You're open to me now. I can give you powers. I can make you fly, strong, bullet-proof ... frictionless." They both grinned as he said that, and he got serious again. "I can use you as a target in Ranged Powers class now. But I have to tell you. Part of the power is that, when I'm touching you, I can feel how you use your mind." Sarah frowned, and pulled her hand away from him, breaking contact. The light on her arm extinguished. "My mind? You can read my mind?" He shook his head. "I can't read your mind. It's not like I can get anything specific like your locker combination or your Facebook password. And I can't hear your ... what's it called? ... internal ... mono ... something." "Internal monologue?" she offered. He nodded. "That's it. The thoughts that you think, I can't hear them. But I can feel which parts of your brain you are using. It's like, if you want to do something with your hands, all I can tell is that you're thinking about your hands. There's a big part of your brain that controls your hands. But I don't know what it is you want to do. Like, I don't know if you want to cast a spell, write something, or fondle me." He glanced down at her hands. "But when we were making out, I was pretty sure you didn't want to write something." She continued to stare at him. He took another deep breath. "It's just that ... I can tell when you're lying." Her mouth dropped open in shock. "Annie explained it to me," he said, continuing. "It's reconstruction and creativity. She said that, when someone asks us a question and we tell the truth, we go to one part of our brains to reconstruct memories. But when we lie, we go to another part to be creative. And that's what I felt." Sarah pulled back away from him, staring and processing. Her face twisted in horror. "You mean you were..." she started. "No! I'm not trying to invade your privacy, Sarah. I can't! And I'm not angry with you for lying to me. I don't think you were trying to hurt me. I think you were trying to NOT hurt me, and I appreciate that. But, I just want to be honest with you, to let you know that this is what I am." Sarah had pulled away from him, crossed her legs, and covered her breasts with one arm, and for one frightening moment started rocking in her familiar obsessive frantic motions. "Oh god, no," Joey thought to himself. "Please don't start freaking out on me." But then she stopped, and snapped her eyes up at him, glaring at him. He could tell, even without touching her, that she was using her mantra. Her violet eyes burned with a growing fury. "Oh great. Maybe freaking out would have been better," he thought. "So!" she said, challenging him. "You want to be honest with me, right?" Joey nodded. "Yeah." "Really?" She gave him a snide look. "Then be honest with me. How long have you wanted me?" "Huh?" Joey's stomach churned at this sudden change in direction. "How long have you wanted me? Simple enough question!" She turned, releasing her breasts and crawled towards him like a snowy leopard on the hunt. He shifted back in panic. "Like, you said I'm one of the most beautiful girls in the school. But you've been sitting next to me in English class for five days a week for five weeks, and you've barely said two words to me any day! So I want to know if you ever noticed me! Tell me!" "I noticed you!" he defended. "Really? Then why didn't you ever say anything to me?" "I don't know! I didn't know what to say." "Well, why didn't you even look at me?" "I ... What make you think I didn't look at you?" "I would have noticed!" She stared him down. "I look for these things! I look for boys who notice me. So how long have you wanted me?" Joey hesitated. "Or is it that there is someone else you wanted?" "Someone else?" he asked, and his mind flashed to Lynne. "Does she know? How does she know?" But then Joey made another connection. He glared back at her. "What about you? Did you want me? You said you wanted to go out with me, but you lied to me about that." "I didn't want to go to where there would be paparazzi and scary movies that will make me fade in public! That's all." "No!" Joey shook his head. "I was touching you when I asked you if that was why you didn't want to go, and you said yes, and you lied then. I could feel it! So that wasn't the reason. So what is it? Why didn't you want to go out with me?" Sarah opened her mouth a couple times, and fumed. "This is not fair," she grumbled. "Sorry!" he said. "I wish it were." She grimaced and frowned, and then stared back at him angrily. "Really?" she blurted at him. Joey sat in confusion as her eyes darted down and back up his naked body. "You want this to be fair? You really want to be honest with me?" He nodded. "Yeah." She leered at him. "Good!" she said, and without another word, Sarah lunged for him, tackling him and pressing her lips up to his and she kissed him furiously. She pulled him by the shoulders, and they rolled across the bed, kissing and writhing, rubbing and stroking each other. Joey didn't know where this came from, and after a few moments, quite frankly didn't care. It was Angry Sex, something he had heard of, something he had never had before, and it awakened his libido, and charged his cock back into life again. Her soft magical breasts pressed into his body, tempting him, and her sweet tongue plunged deep into his mouth, and she licked his tongue sensuously as she ground her soft, warm body into his. Her hips churned against his groin, and he wrapped his arms around her luscious body and held and squeezed her tightly as her legs wrapped around his. She kicked and they rolled across the bed, kissing, tonguing, feeling, and gasping, and as he lay on his back, she straddled him and sat up. Sarah took a deep breath. "That was easy!" she said proudly. "What?" Joey said, blinking and gasping for breath. Then she raised one hand with one finger high in the air, ignited that finger with a brilliant glowing arcane fire, and then stabbed him in the chest with it. "AHH!" Joey shrieked as she pinned one arm down and quickly drew a circle on his chest. "What are you doing!?" he shrieked. "Hold still!" she barked, completing the circle and starting the glyphs. "SARAH!" he screamed, watching the young witch cast a spell on his chest. He lunged at her, trying to push her off, but his arms passed straight through her arms and body. He bucked, trying to get up, but she pinned him down fairly strongly with one hand. "STOP IT!" he yelled. "Don't fidget!" she commanded. "Believe me! You don't want this to go wrong." Joey's mind froze in pure panic as he tried to figure out which was worse; letting her complete an intentional spell which could do just about anything to him, or interrupting her at some critical point, botching the spell, which could do just about anything else to him. He wondered if he was safe in either situation, and remembered the small explosions that would pop next to her as she would botch spells in class. He figured if there was one situation that could be safe, it would be her completing the spell, even if it meant him turning into a newt or something. She finished the last glyph, and the hypersigil flashed into life on his chest. A wave of mystical energy grabbed his heart and pulsed through his body, and a blast of wind blew her hair back. She towered over him, gorgeous, naked, powerful, commanding, and triumphant. The arcane light from the glowing sigils illuminated her translucent skin eerily. And as he lay trembling under her, she smirked. "There!" she said. "Now we're even!" He looked down at his body. He hadn't changed. He was still human. The only thing that had changed was there was a glowing circle of mystic symbols on his chest. "What did ... what did you do to me?" he asked. "You said it yourself. You wanted things to be fair. Now things are fair," she said with her hands on her hips. "It's a truth spell. It lets me know when you are telling the truth, and when you are lying." She cocked her head at him. "If you get to know when I'm lying, it's only fair that I get to know when you are." Joey looked down at his chest. The hypersigil pulsed and orbited his heart, thrumming with power and faint music. A slight breeze emitted from it, and he turned back to her. "Will ... will it hurt?" he asked. "Lie to me and find out," she answered. Joey stared at her in terror, and she balked. "No," she admitted. "I don't want to hurt you. It'll just tell me." It was the truth. He could feel it. She leaned on his chest and stared into his eyes. "How long have you wanted me? When did you notice me?" Joey took a deep breath, and mentally prepared what he and every other man in the history of this planet knew what to say to a woman to that particular question, that he wanted her from the very first day he met her. The sigil started glowing red in response to his thoughts. She saw the red pulse and glared at him. "That's not fair!" he said. "I didn't say anything!" "Can you tell when I'm thinking of lying?" she asked. He thought about it, and nodded his head. "Yeah," he admitted. "It's fair," she concluded. "You were thinking of lying to me, to not hurt my feelings. And I appreciate the gesture too." She leaned in a little closer to him. "Now hurt them," she ordered. He took another steadying breath. "Okay. I have noticed you occasionally in the past couple weeks," he confessed. "But only like in Ranged Powers class, when I can see you clearly. You're always all wrapped up in these dark and depressing clothes, hiding from everyone, so it's really hard to notice you." He glanced down at her nude body, admiring her young breasts and tight stomach, and he caressed her legs. "But I only really started wanting you today, when you opened up to me in class." She watched the glowing glyphs and nodded. "I thought so," she whispered. It was a sad but relieving tone in her voice. "Am I the girl you really want, or is there another you're more interested in?" Joey squeezed his eyes shut, and he could feel the hypersigil throbbing on his chest, ready to betray him. "I don't want to tell her. I don't want to tell her." "Joey. Just tell me." "I..." He couldn't. "Just say her name!" Sarah shouted in exasperation. "Say 'Lynne!'" He popped his eyes open. "Lynne," he admitted. "I want Lynne." Sarah was sitting on him, her naked vagina touching his semi-hard penis, and she sighed and nodded. Then she lay down on top of him, closing her eyes as she rested her cheek on his chest. Joey sighed as she pressed her full weight on him, and he wondered if she was crying or not. He cradled her head, and whispered to her. "I'm sorry," he said, caressing her back and face. "I'm really sorry. I didn't want to hurt you." "It's okay," she whispered back, not crying. He could feel her mind. It was the truth. He held her for a long moment, cradling her, caressing her. "How did you know?" he finally asked. He looked down and watched the slowly rotating glowing glyphs on his chest. "Did your spell tell you that?" Sarah lifted her head and propped herself up on his chest, and then she rolled her eyes at him. "No, Joey," she said, rather annoyed. "The whole fucking school knows." Joey's mouth dropped open in astonishment. Sarah just rolled her eyes again and dropped her head on his chest and sighed. "You two have been making googly-eyes at each other for over a month now, and everyone knows," she complained. "It's a favorite subject in the girls' rooms. Whenever she's out of earshot, we all start talking about it. They're placing bets on when you two will hook up." She turned to face him again. Her eyes were soft and caring now. There wasn't a hint of hurt or anger in her. "Why haven't you asked her out?" she asked, genuinely concerned. Joey wondered about it. "It's hard," he settled on. "And I was easy?" she asked. He shook his head. "EasiER," he said, stressing the final syllable. "But you were still hard. But she's impossible. It's like, I can never get her alone, you know? I can't ever talk to her. She's always with her brother." Sarah rolled off of him and lay beside him, their intimacy transforming into a comfortable equality. She took one hand and meshed her fingers into his. "Preaching to the choir!" she complained with a heavy sigh, and she lay there and stared at the ceiling, toying with his fingers. Joey stared up too, thinking about how he could never get a chance to talk to Lynne alone. Jeff was always there, always with her. Then he thought about what Sarah just said. His brow furrowed, and he turned to look at her. "Jeff?" he asked her. She nodded and gave him a sheepish grin. "He's the reason you don't want to go out with me?" "I like him," she said, shrugging. "He notices me. I've seen him looking at me, and I didn't know if it was because he was interested in me or not. But then you said he finds me pretty." She paused and grinned. "Plus, he's got this really cute butt!" she growled enthusiastically, grasping the air with one hand. "Have you seen it?" "Um ... Actually, I have." She turned to him, still smiling, and saw Joey's face looking a little forlorn. She dropped her smile. "I'm sorry." "No, it's okay," he said, realizing it really didn't bother him. He understood now why she wasn't angry with him for wanting someone else. She wanted someone else too. And he lay there, reflecting on the situation. He was naked, laying in bed next to a beautiful naked girl, in post-coital afterglow, and they had both just confessed that they really weren't that interested in each other. "Well, this is awkward," he said. She chuckled. "Yeah." "Pathetic, really." "Huh? You think I'm pathetic?" "Both of us are. I mean, here we are, we're both interested in someone else, and neither one of us can get close to that person, 'cause they're always joined at the hip with the other one. And because we can't pull them apart, we fall into each other's arms." She chuckled and cuddled up to him. "Yeah," she agreed. "But I did have fun." "Me too." He hugged her. He lay there holding this beautiful girl, and thought about their future. Gone were the idle fantasies of a dating and marriage and family, and now he could only think about what he was going to do at school tomorrow. He wondered how they were going to act around each other at school, and he glanced at his chest. The glyphs had mostly faded, and were barely visible. "Sarah? How long does this last?" She glanced at the sigils. "Not much longer." "Could you recharge it?" She gave him a weird look. "Why?" He rolled to his side, facing her. "Because I want to be honest with you. I want things to be fair between us." She raised an eyebrow and touched the spell. It pulsed back into life. She left her hand on his chest, and he caressed her cheek. "Sarah. I like you. I really like you, and I'm worried about tomorrow. I don't want things to get weird between us. I don't want us to avoid each other. I want to be able to talk to you, and hang out with you, and do homework, and have lunch with you. And I know that you're interested in Jeff, but I think, if he's the one you want, you should go for him. You deserve him. You deserve to be happy." She smiled as he spoke, and he continued. "I just want you to know that, even though I want to get close to Lynne, I still want you in the rest of my life. Somewhere, anywhere, I want you there. You're too interesting, you're too cool to give up." She blushed. "Look, if things work out between you and Jeff, I'll be happy that you're happy. And if things don't work out, I'll still be available on November second." He paused. "I'll be your safety penis." Sarah burst out laughing, "Deal!" she said. "Friends?" "Friends," he agreed. They cuddled up together, looking and smiling at each other, and lightly caressed each other's bodies. Joey's erection surged and prodded into her thigh. Sarah glanced down at his member and giggled. "Does that thing ever go down?" "It has a mind of its own. It knows there's a gorgeous naked girl nearby." She chuckled and playfully traced her fingers through the mystic sigils, giving the entire disk a twirl. He could feel the mystic bonds twisting through his heart. "You know, there are many different kinds of friends," she whispered. "Really?" he said, feeling the patterns in her brain shifting. He could sense a surge of sexual desire. "What kinds?" "Just friends. Good friends. Best friends. Fair weather." Her fingers traced down his chest, lower and lower, tickling his stomach. "Each has their own ... benefits," she added. He smiled, and slipped one hand down to cup her soft breast. His cock pulsed with life. "More honesty here. I can tell when you're getting turned on." Her fingers slipped over his erection, curling around it. "So can I." They pulled each other close and started kissing again. Sarah squirmed and moaned as Joey rolled her onto her back and lay up against her. He kissed her and fondled her breast for a while as she stroked him, and then he moved his hand down her smooth stomach and over her abdomen. His fingers brushed across her labia, and she squealed and opened her legs. He tickled her clitoris, and she bucked and gasped. He kissed down her cheek and nuzzled into her neck, fingering her clit while she squeezed and stroked his cock in one hand. He idly wondered why their arms weren't getting in the way of each other, and after a quick glance, confirmed his suspicion that yes, she had faded part of her arm so that their arms intersected with each other. Her fingers stroked and caressed his cock lovingly, and he decided to forget about the weird stuff and concentrate on the good stuff. He licked her sweet neck, causing her to giggle and squirm. "She really likes you, you know that?" she gasped. "Really?" he said, kissing across her chest. She bucked and breathed heavily. "Yeah. She talks about you all the time." Joey smiled as he reached the top flesh of her breasts. "Jeff told me that he once asked Lynne to ask you to wear prettier clothes." He kissed lower, and licked one hard nipple. "Really?" she breathed. "He wants me to be pretty?" "Hmm-mmm." He kissed her nipple. "He likes you." Sarah smiled brilliantly and arched her back, pushing her breast towards him. Joey opened his mouth and latched onto her breast. She grunted, bucked, and twisted, her mind flashing with pleasure and imagination. "Oh yes!" she gasped. "Joey, we should just totally attack them together." Joey snapped his head up at her and stared at her in astonishment. "Sarah! You're a genius!" "Huh?" He lifted his hand from her crotch and used it to gesture. "We should do it together! You and me! We both ask them out. I can't get to Lynne, but you can, You can't get to Jeff, but I can. We can't get them apart when we're not in the locker rooms or the bathrooms, so the answer is, we don't even try! We just tell them. We're going out! Friday! All four of us!" She blinked at him and took his hand in hers. "What? You mean like a double-date?" she asked, pulling his hand back down to her clitoris. "Yeah!" he said, resuming fondling her genitals. "We go to dinner, listen to the music, check out the bookstore and play around in the costume shop. We can find a safe movie if you want, and..." He grinned. "And when the photographers find me, Jeff will have to escort you somewhere safe. They won't be interested in you two." Sarah thought about this, and she smiled brilliantly. "He would have to!" she agreed, and she ground his hand into her crotch happily, and squirmed at either the idea or the physical stimulation, or both. "It's a great idea!" She looked him in the eyes and squeezed his cock while grinding his fingers into her clitoris. "I think we should see other people!" she said. "Me too," he said, grinning, and they pulled each other into a deep kiss. ------- They continued to make love the rest of the afternoon, preserving her virginity by him fingering her while he flashed her brain stem to orgasm while she stroked him off into a condom, preventing the predictable mess that always came when he did. They then took a shower together. Sarah had forgotten how good hot showers felt, and wondered how to get on the shower schedule at the dorms. They washed and lathered each other, making out under the warm streams, and they got each other off one more time. Joey toweled himself off while she simply let all of the water pass through her body and stepped out of the shower dry as a bone. They dressed, joked, laughed, made themselves a couple sandwiches for dinner, and discussed their plans for Friday night. Sarah found the one image in Jacques' camera that she didn't like, and erased it. They made a half-hearted stab at his homework, which basically meant making a copy of her notes on the assignments, but neither felt like doing any work. He tried to engage her in a conversation about Harry Potter, which she turned out to despise because J. K. Rowling "obviously doesn't know anything about magic." She introduced him to Torchwood and David Tennant's Doctor Who. As the skies started to darken as the evening crept up on them, Sarah said she had to go back to her dorm. They packed up her things and called her a cab, and as they waited on the front sidewalk for her ride, they talked and held hands. Joey had found a new friend in Sarah Moonglow Abercrombie, one with a delightful humor and odd look on life which constantly surprised him. She was, as he had heard someone say recently, a treasure trove of unimaginable riches to discover. Tricia and Annie returned just as Sarah's cab arrived, and watched from a respectable distance as she kissed Joey good-night and squeezed his hands before getting into the cab. As the cab pulled away, she turned to wave goodbye, and giggled to herself as she watched Tricia start teasing him for details. "Where to, miss?" the cab driver asked her. Sarah smiled and oozed in the back seat. She felt warm and whole, alive and real, calm and focused. Life had transformed for her. She felt older, wiser, and stronger. She started to answer, but stopped herself before she gave the Myer's Institute address. "Hold a second," she said, and she pulled out her smart phone. A quick Google search later, she gave him the address. Several minutes later, they arrived at the address. Sarah stepped out, paid the driver, and looked up at the store as he pulled away. She hugged her purse and notebook to her body, and felt the soft worn fabric of her favorite black sweatshirt as she stared at the store. She wondered. Her phone was still in her hand, and she opened the contacts list and selected a number at the top. She listened to the ringing tone over the small phone, and waited. She hoped he was near his phone. "Daddy?" she said, smiling brightly as he answered. "Hi ... Good..." She responded to his queries, swaying and swinging on her heels. "No, it's a good day," she reassured him. She could hear him sigh with relief. "I was just wondering something." She looked back up across the street, at her namesake. "Do I get a discount?" ------- Tuesday morning, Joey was at his locker, dropping off books and his lunch, when Simon and Jeff surrounded him. The hallway was busy with kids talking and running, and was alive with the fresh bursts of loud laughter and shrieking. "So!" said Simon, staring at him critically. "So," said Jeff, equally curious. "Hey guys," Joey answered, trying to be nonchalant. He could see they were suspicious of something. "How'd it go?" Simon asked. "How'd what go?" "Your date with Sarah," Jeff explained. Joey grinned. "It wasn't a date," he said. "We just ... hung out and did homework." "Uh-huh," Jeff said, skeptically. "How much?" "What do you mean?" "He means," Simon explained, "it turns out that a certain albino mage didn't get back to her dorm room until well after curfew last night." "Really?" Joey asked, surprised. "When did she get back?" "Nine-thirty!" Jeff exclaimed. "And she was looking pretty happy, too." "Word is she had a bunch of packages with her. Like someone took her shopping," added Simon. "Someone with some spending cash," he said, prodding Joey. "Wasn't me," he answered. "You sure?" Simon asked. "You are what every girl looks for in a guy. You are a rich orphan." Joey chuckled and shrugged. "She left my place around six, six-thirty." He closed his locker. "If she went shopping, she went by herself. I don't know where she went. I haven't seen her since..." He didn't finish that sentence, because at that moment, a huge chorus of whoops and cheers and wolf-whistles erupted in the hallway, and the three boys turned with everyone else nearby to stare down the hallway. Their jaws dropped. Sarah was making an entrance. She had just emerged from the dorm stairwell and strode confidently into the hallway. The black clothes, the hat, the sunglasses, the clumpy tennis shoes, they were long gone, and for the very first time, her classmates could see her for what she was, a young, beautiful, and confident girl. She wore a light violet floral-print dress that matched her eyes, highlighted her curves, and showed off her bare, beautiful alabaster arms and legs. Instead of clutching her notebook to her chest, hiding her bosom, she let the book dangle from one hand and she walked with her shoulders back and chest thrust out and bouncing proudly. Instead of the bulky dark sunglasses, she wore small, light rimmed rose-tinted lenses that matched her ruby earrings, necklace, bracelets, and rings. Comfortable tennis shoes had been replaced with delicate, light violet flats. Her white hair was wild and streaked with rainbow colors, and her smile was brilliant and radiant, framed in a ruby red lipstick, and she strutted with confidence through the throngs of cheering students, soaking in the praises. "Holy ... shit!" Simon remarked, his eyes glued to the gorgeous girl's figure. Jeff vamped. "Boww Bomp! Bomp! ... Chick ... Chika-chikahh!" "What did you do to her?" Simon asked incredulously. Joey smiled with pride as he watched his new friend luxuriate in her well-deserved attentions. "Sorry guys, but a gentleman doesn't kiss and tell." "So, kissing was involved," Simon deduced. Joey shook his head. "Nothing happened," he lied. "We just talked. You know, just had a meeting of the minds." "Uh-huh," Jeff said. "And any other body parts bump into each other along the way?" "If you're not going to tell us what you did," Simon pressed, "at least tell us how many times you did it." Joey didn't answer, but started absent-mindlessly counting on his fingers as he watched the approaching girl. Simon groaned and shook his head. "You did her, didn't you?" Sarah by this point had come a little closer to them, and she locked her eyes on one boy with whom she decided she had some unfinished business. She took her glasses off, ignored everyone around her, and marched up to him, her violet eyes boring into him with the intensity of a laser. Joey could see the determination in her face, and knew she was using her mantra. And she marched right up to him. Right up to Clyde. Clyde actually flinched as she approached him. The big kid, who stood nearly a foot taller than her and outweighed her by at least fifty pounds, visibly leaned away from her a fraction of an inch as she popped her hip and stood before him, blocking his way. She stared at him. The other students in the hallway grew quiet and watched with interest. Joey found himself terrified, wondering what she was doing, and he clenched one hand into a fist, ready to summon his black sparks. Jeff next to him seemed to tense up as well, stretching his fingers, ready to spring into action. Sarah just stared at him. Clyde sneered at her. "What do you want?" he challenged the girl. Sarah just stared at him. It was an intense stare. Her face was stone cold, but her eyes seared into him, piercing directly into his tainted soul. It was a biting, bitter, consuming stare that rocked the bully's countenance. Clyde quivered for a moment, and looked left and right to his two compatriots for moral support. Neil and Brandon looked just as uncomfortable as Clyde felt, and they weren't even under her scrutiny. Clyde then looked back at the girl. Her eyes had never left him, and he found himself unable to meet her gaze for as long as she could. "Are you going to say anything?" he blurted at the girl. Sarah just stared at him. He squirmed under her stare, which elicited a few giggles in the crowd of kids. Clyde was definitely losing his composure, unable to withstand the simple glare of judgment and raw fury that burned under the supreme control of a woman on a mission. The message of her stare was simple, easy to understand. She didn't have to say anything. Everyone knew what the situation was. She stared at him and waited. Clyde balked and grunted. He tore his eyes off her in surrender, feigning indifference and disgust, and turned to his others. "Come on!" he barked, and side-stepped his way past Sarah and into the crowd of students who all burst into cheers and applause. Simon blinked. "Holy ... I think I'm in love." "That is not the same girl I saw yesterday," said Jeff. Joey relaxed his clenched fist, breathed a heavy sigh of relief, and watched proudly as she basked in the glow of compliments from the students around her. Sarah's brilliant smile warmed his heart. "Nope," he agreed. "That's who she really is." Simon just gazed at Sarah in fascination and lust. "Wow." "Yeah." Jeff added. Sarah, still some distance away from them, turned and spotted the three boys. Joey smiled at her and gave her a thumbs-up. She cocked one eyebrow up as she saw who he was standing next to, locked onto her next target for the day, and made her way over. Simon nervously swallowed and shifted on his crutches. "Hi boys," she slurred as she stepped up to the three. She turned to each one in turn, greeting them. "Simon ... Jeff ... Mister Salty." "Hey, Marshmallow," Joey responded. "Oh, god NO!" Simon bellowed. "THEY HAVE CUTE PET NAMES!" he yelled out, and he banged his head against the lockers in frustration. Sarah giggled at Simon's response, and gave Joey a wink. "You're looking good, Sarah. Love the dress." Joey squinted at her as he noticed her eyes. They were darker than normal. "You wearing tinted contacts now?" "Nope! New spell. Eyes of the Eclipse. It blocks out a lot of the light." "You allowed to use that?" he asked, referring to the school's no-powers-outside-of-class policy. She shifted on her hips with some attitude. "We are allowed to use powers for personal health and safety, so it counts." She grinned at him, and Joey slightly nudged his head in Jeff's direction, coaxing her to talk to him. Sarah's eyes twinkled, and she stepped up to the handsome musician. "Hi Jeff," she practically growled at him, her eyes lighting with hunger. "Like the dress?" she asked, and she twirled around in front of him, displaying her mouth-watering body to him. Jeff stood there, gaping at the beautiful girl. "Um, yeah. Wow!" he finally managed. His eyes turned curious. "Where did you get that?" he asked. "Daddy's store!" she boasted. "Turns out I don't have to pay for things!" She swayed playfully in front of him, flirting and smiling. "They even turned down the loud music for me while I was there." Jeff processed this, blinking and staring at her. "It's gorgeous," he admitted, and he frowned. "What size do you wear?" Joey turned to Simon, who gave him a horrified look. "What SIZE DO you wear?" they mouthed silently and incredulously to each other. "Oh my god! What the hell?" But Sarah didn't see that as an uncomfortable question. She just smiled and leaned in close to the big boy. "There's a tag in the back," she breathed heavily into his ear. "Next to the zipper." Jeff's jaw dropped open. She gave him a more-than-friendly wink, and strutted off, heading towards Lynne, who was just as astonished at Sarah's change of appearance as he was. The boys watched her as she was immediately accosted by Kaelyn and Willow. Joey smacked Jeff on the arm, breaking his attention. "Dude! What the hell? 'What size do you wear?' Why the hell did you ask her that? What were you thinking?" Jeff shook his head, clearing out the cobwebs. "Sorry. I panicked." He watched as Sarah approached his sister and whispered something to her. All four of the girls glanced back at the three boys, and Sarah, Kaelyn, and Willow burst into giggles while Lynne just looked astonished. Then all three of the girls grabbed Lynne and herded her into the girl's bathroom. Jeff shuddered. "Uh, guys," he said, leaning towards the girls' room. "I gotta go and..." But Joey wouldn't have it. He knew what was happening in the girl's bathroom, and he grabbed Jeff by the arm. "Jeff? Come here! My office, now!" And he pulled him towards the boy's bathroom. "Wait!" he said, fighting back. "I need to..." "Now! Simon, help me out here!" Joey said, pushing back, and with Simon's help, he got him into the bathroom. Jeff was flustered and panicking, and looking left and right, glancing at the door, the two boys, the wall separating the two bathrooms. Joey pushed him against a sink. "Jeff! I need to tell you what's happening." "Wait. One..." he started. His eyes darted back and forth. "Can we..." Joey could see the boy's A.D.D. was flaring up, and he grabbed Jeff by the chin, focusing his attention on himself. "Hey! Here! I need your attention. You listening to me?" Jeff blinked and nodded, a fearful look in his eyes. "Yeah," he answered. His body was tense and quivering, and his face betrayed a level of perplexity and confusion bordering on paranoia. "Good! Here's the deal." Joey said, and he took a deep breath. "She wants you. Sarah wants you." "Oh, man!" Simon whined. Jeff just blinked and processed this. "Me? ... You, um..." "Yeah, she told me this last night. And the other thing is ... I like Lynne. I want to ask her out. And I know you like protecting her, and don't like letting her out of your sight, so here's what's going to happen. We're all going on a date. All four of us! You and Sarah, me and Lynne. That way you don't have to worry about her, okay?" "Oh man, come on!" Simon complained. "I want to come too!" Joey glanced over at his friend. "Sorry, bud. Five's a crowd." Simon grumbled. Joey turned back to Jeff, who appeared to be swallowing information without chewing it first. "So here's what I need from you," Joey said to the confused boy. "You still with me?" Jeff nodded. "Yeah. I'm still here," he said vaguely. Joey continued. "Good. So what I need you to do is ask her out. She knows it's coming, and she's going to say 'yes', but I think she deserves you asking her out. And in the meantime ... I need you to clear away from Lynne long enough for me to ask her out. Can you do that for me? Can I ask Lynne out?" Jeff blinked and thought about it. "Yes..." he managed. "I'd ... Yes, I will." He squinted. "This..." "It's going to be this Friday," Joey said. "Probably Downtown Silver Spring. Got it?" He thought about it and nodded. "Yeah," he finally said, and he recited the tasks. "Ask Sarah out, and ... let you ask Lynne out. Got it." For a while he didn't look too overjoyed about it, but he looked back at Joey, and smiled slightly. "Good man!" Joey said, and the bell rang, signaling the beginning of first period. Joey released Jeff. "Come on! Time for class. Let's go." And he held the door open for Simon. The throngs of students rushed by in the hallway, and Simon followed him out. "What if I get a date too? Can I come also?" "Can you get a date?" "Is Dakota Fanning still available?" The two boys left the bathroom and entered the rush of students, leaving a very quiet and flustered Jeff Sullivan alone in the boy's bathroom. He sighed and rubbed his face, and slowly emerged from the bathroom. When he stepped outside, most of the students had emptied the hallway, and he could see Joey and Simon heading for English class, and Sarah even further ahead. He stood and waited, and Lynne opened the door and emerged from the girl's room, equally quiet and flustered. They stood together, not speaking to each other, and not even looking at each other. They just stood and watched their friends as they walked down the hallway. Lynne inhaled deeply. Jeff let out a breath of exasperation, puffing out his cheeks. She scrunched up her mouth, and then reached into her blouse to adjust her bra strap. He held the back of his neck and scratched his head. Her eyebrows lifted with a mild look of bemusement. He frowned and he rolled his tongue through his cheek. She glanced at her locker, and concentrated. The tumblers in the combination lock moved, the locker combination long forgotten, and the door swung open at her mental command. Jeff pulled out their books and closed the door. "Yeah," Lynne finally said. "Right," Jeff added. And as they walked together down the long empty hallway towards their English class, Jeff started with a light vamp intro. "Buh-dump, bah-da-dump!" "Come and knock on our door..." Lynne sang into the intro. "Come and knock on our door..." Jeff echoed, four beats later. "We'll be waiting for you..." "We'll be waiting for you..." ------- Chapter 20: Fighters and Healers It was only the pain that kept her from screaming. Annie dug her fingernails tightly into her own palms as she squeezed the controls, cutting into her own flesh. She gripped the steering wheel and accelerator handle so tightly, her knuckles went white. She pushed her tongue hard into her teeth, intentionally poking directly into the sharp points, nearly piercing herself. The pain in her hands and mouth focused her, which was the thing that kept her from screaming in fury. "Bastard!" she fumed mentally. "Who the hell does he think he is, bringing that marshooes makheshaifeh into my house? Kicking ME out so he can shtup that skinny klafteh?" They were sitting at a traffic light, waiting for the light to change. The light turned green, and the driver in front of her didn't move within the first second. Annie laid on the horn and roared at him. "OY! TSHIKHEH ZAKH OYS! TEE-ZHE SHOYN EPES! NU SHOYN! IT'S THE PEDAL ON THE RIGHT!" The car accelerated into the intersection, and she followed, biting her lip and tailgating until a clear spot opened, and she gunned the engine and passed Rip Van Earnhardt in his god-damnned gas-sucking Hummer, or as she liked to call them, the Sorry-About-Your-Penis-Mobile. She looked right to sneer at the driver as she passed him, but couldn't see him. Emily was in the way. Her passenger sat quietly beside her with one leg curled up with her foot on the dashboard. She was chewing on her thumbnail and ignoring Annie's temper. Her eyes were distant, focused elsewhere. Annie tried to return her attention to the road, but could only bring her eyes there. Her attention actually returned to last night. Images smoldered in her brain; Joey proudly bringing this new girl into their home, Tricia so excited for him, Sarah acting so innocent and sweet, and showing off her powers, Matilda fawning over her. And then, suddenly she's naked, and she's in his bedroom, and Joey is pushing everyone out so he could stick her. She grunted and took an exit without signaling, crossing over two lanes and rousing a chorus of honks from other drivers. She ignored the other cars and concentrated on her fury. For almost three hours yesterday she had to wait out in a sandwich shop with Tricia getting all stupid on her. Oh, how proud she was of him! What a stud! What a hunk! Her boy was growing up into some super-smoothie. Trish just couldn't wait to get home and get the details. And all that time as she sat and listened to her roommate, Annie just stewed and plotted. She had worked herself up into a rage, rehearsed a dozen insults to let loose on him for breaking her heart, for not thinking about her, and her feelings. And as Tricia prattled on and on, completely oblivious to how she, Annie, was really feeling, Annie had just sat there and pretended to agree, and bided her time. And when the phone call came, when the intruder was finally leaving, she was ready. They returned home, and she saw her kiss him. And when the girl with the freshly-fucked look on her face finally got off her back and into the cab, Annie was ready to lay into him. Ready to deliver. Ready to chew him down to two inches. And then Joey took her hand. And that was it! That was all she wrote. Annie eased up on the accelerator, pulling back from the guy she was tailgating, and wondered why. The anger was gone, all of it, in that one moment when he took her hand. She couldn't stay angry with him. She just couldn't. His indiscretion with Sarah meant nothing to her then, just as it seemed to mean nothing to Tricia. Maybe Tricia was right, that it was something to be proud of, but she couldn't see that. She couldn't see how it could be all right, but couldn't feel it being wrong either. Her wave of anger had passed as she thought about his touch, and she loosened her grip on the steering wheel, and felt her back muscles relax. What did it matter? She still had Joey. That was what was important, wasn't it? She slowed down to a more reasonable speed, and signaled for a lane change. She glanced back and saw the truck emerge from her blind spot, and a flash of panic stung her nerves. The truck wasn't doing anything dangerous, but the sight of large eighteen wheelers just tended to do that to her now. She wondered if this reaction was her actually remembering something from her accident, or if she was just imagining it. She didn't remember anything else from that day. She was only told about the truck. And her friends. But the fear lingered, and she wondered if it really was the truck that was frightening her. Maybe it was something, or someone, else. "I am not afraid of her," she told herself. "I am not afraid of her. I am not losing him to her." Sarah danced in her mind, spinning through the magical hypersigil, and popping one heel up like a princess as she kissed him. "I am not afraid of her. I am not afraid of her. Keep saying that to yourself. Maybe you'll believe it. I am not afraid of her. I am not afraid. I'm not." "Why am I so scared?" Annie blinked as she was interrupted from her thoughts, and she turned to Emily. Emily was crying. Tears had fallen from her eyes and froze to her peach skin, and the superhero turned to her. "I mean..." she continued in her faltering voice, "What's there to be afraid of, right?" She gave a half-hearted smile of confidence. "It's only cancer." Annie stared at her. "I mean, what's the worst they can say to me? 'We have the results of your blood tests, and you have leukemia, and there's nothing we can do. Go home, make yourself comfortable. Enjoy the time you have left.'" She broke and wiped her tears off her face, sniffing. "And I'm back to where I started, right?" A cold shiver ran up Annie's spine, one that had nothing to do with Snow Angel's natural body temperature, and she teared in sympathy for her friend. "The truth can be scary," she offered, not knowing who that advice was directed to. "But I'm here, and I'm going to help you get through this." Emily's eyes sparkled as she smiled and sighed, her breath frosty and visible in the morning sunlight. "Thanks." She took a deep breath. "It just seems like it should be such a little thing. I mean, I've fought Psi-Clone. He made me want to rip my skin off, but I wasn't afraid of him. Bhaugogh, K'thor, and Motaborn tried to claim my soul, and they didn't scare me. Malachi Blood was balls-deep inside me when he pulled out those fangs, and I wasn't afraid. He just pissed me off. This is just some infected cells, right? I mean, what's so scary?" Annie marveled at Emily's ability to find ways to lie to herself, especially when she couldn't physically lie. She thought about it. "Well, try this. What's the best thing that can happen?" Emily smiled. "He could say 'You don't have cancer. You just have a vitamin deficiency. Here, take a few Freds and Barneys, a couple Dinos, and oh my god you're gorgeous I want to start licking you.'" She paused and chuckled to herself. "That would be the best thing he could say. Assuming he's cute." "Haven't met him yet. What if he's not cute?" "It won't be the first time I've done it in a blindfold." Annie gave her friend an infectious smile. "You know, when I was hurt, the scary part wasn't learning about what had happened to me, but finding out what all I was going to have to go through." She paused. "The scary part is the unknown. In your case, we don't know if they can do anything for you or not. If they can't, you're back to where you are now, and you try again in another ten or twenty years when the technology improves. But if they can help you ... you can be in this for the long haul. That means radiation treatments, and chemotherapy ... endless tests. And that's scary." "Yeah," Emily agreed. "But I don't think that's the scariest part." Annie frowned. "What is the scariest part?" "What then?" Emily turned in her seat and curled up, facing Annie. "I mean, what if I go through all this, and it all works. Then what? What do I do?" Annie took an exit, heading towards the hospital. "What do you mean, what do you do? You do whatever you want to do. You celebrate! You kicked its ass! You live your life the way you want to." She stared at her curiously. "Are you scared because you don't know what to do afterwards?" She shook her head. "No. I think I know what I want to do." "What?" "I was thinking of retiring." Annie blinked in astonishment. "Give up being a superhero?" Emily took a deep breath and nodded. "I've been doing this for eighty years. It's the only thing I know how to do for a living. And I'm thinking, maybe with this, it's time to move on and do something new for a while. At least for a couple decades." "Like what?" "Have a baby." Annie watched Emily as she stroked her tummy. "You're kidding." "I don't lie." "But you'll lose your powers, won't you?" She shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. Things may be different when I'm cancer free. But if I do lose them, that's really how it should be, isn't it? I mean, if I'm immortal, and I have a mortal child, I'll outlive her. That's not the way things are supposed to happen." "But you'll die." "After a full life. But which would you rather do? Die of old age, or watch your child die of old age?" Annie watched the road and thought, unable to answer. Emily turned back and looked out the windshield. "I've been thinking about this for a while." She paused. "I want it, but it scares me." Annie glanced back and saw Emily with her hand over her stomach. "So you're going to keep that child?" She shook her head in the negative and winced. "Well, technically I'm keeping it, but I have to do the spell again for this one." "You sure? Maybe we should ask the doctor if they can help you keep it." She shook her head again. "No. If I'm going to fight this, I'll need to know that the magic will stay put." She sighed and stroked her tummy. "Sorry, little one," she said to her abdomen. "But you're going back into my ovaries." "But what if..." Annie started, but stopped. "What?" Annie bit her lip and returned her attention to the road. "Nothing," she concluded. "I think it's great that you want to have a child." They pulled into the parking lot, took a spot up close, and Annie shut the engine off. As she took off her seatbelt and shifted into her wheelchair, Emily just sat and stared at the building through the window, stroking her stomach. "You okay, Emily?" She nodded and took Annie's hand. "Yeah. I'll be okay. Thank you for doing this. I don't think I could do this without you." Annie smiled. "You're welcome." "Just don't leave me. I need you for this." Annie answered something simple, probably an "I won't" or something like that, but a second later had completely forgotten what she had said. Emily's "Just don't leave me," was too busy echoing in her mind, and she wondered if she had the courage to say that to Joey. Emily took a deep breath. "Now, let's see what's in my future." ------- "You have leukemia." The words took the doctor's entire office, leaving very little space for anything else, and Emily deflated slightly in her chair. The light faded in her eyes as she took in the confirmation, and for a moment she just sat quietly. "I understand," she finally said. "I'm sorry," Dr. Rosario offered. She took in a steady breath. "It's what I was expecting, but not what I was hoping for." "Are you sure about this?" Annie asked the doctor. Dr. Rosario nodded and consulted his paperwork. He was a fairly handsome man, Annie decided. Mid-forties, hispanic, moustached, serious looking glasses, square-jaw, and dark eyes. Just the type her mother would want her to date, providing he was Jewish. He continued. "The CBC shows severe anemia, thrombocytopenia, and neutropenia." "English, doc?" Annie prodded. He paused. "Your complete blood count showed a low red blood cell count, low platelet count, and low neutrophil count. That's a type of white blood cell. This is consistent for a diagnosis of leukemia. Plus there is the presence of leukocytes in the blood." Emily sighed and swallowed. "Also your hCG level is high. You're pregnant." She nodded. "I knew about that. That's nothing we're going to worry about. This is not going full-term." She sighed again. "So, how bad is it?" He chewed on his lip. "Hard to tell, considering your numbers and the fact that you walked in here without collapsing." He bought some time by consulting the folder on his desk. "This is an unusual case, obviously. Your GP has given me your history, which is ... colorful to say the least ... and has informed me of..." He read the name from the paper. "... 'Alice' and her needs, and of your special needs for confidentiality." He closed the folder. "I can't answer your question yet. Right now, we need to do more tests. We specifically need to find out what type of leukemia we are dealing with, and how far it has spread. This will enable us to chart a treatment plan, and establish a prognosis." "What kind of tests?" Emily asked seriously. "We need to do a bone marrow aspiration and a biopsy. We can do that right now, and..." Emily interrupted. "How do you do that?" Dr. Rosario paused. "We take a sample from your pelvis and examine it in the lab under a micro..." "HOW do you get the sample?" Emily stressed. Annie leaned in. "Doc, this is an issue we had to go through with the blood test. You see, Alice is very protective of Emily, and needs to know EXACTLY what is going to happen. No surprises. You can't just pull out a Ron Jeremy-sized needle and stick it in her. She needs to see the tools, needs to know how much pain there will be, and how much you plan on taking out. It really helps her if she can see the test performed on someone else first. This is just as much for your protection as hers." The doctor nodded. "Doctor Booth explained this to me, and I am willing to take the risk." He turned to Emily. "But you need to understand that, as generous as it was for your friend to take a blood test with you to alleviate your fears, there is no way I am going to continue that practice from here on. I will not do an invasive biopsy on a healthy person for no cause. This is to protect her. The only reason she was able to do the blood test is because it is a routine test, and we could submit her sample for testing as well." He turned to Annie. "By the way, you're fine." Annie shrugged and nodded. He returned his attention to Emily. "But from this point on, you cannot use her as a guinea pig. She is only here to give you support, be it emotional, moral, spiritual, or financial, or whatever it is she is doing for you. But I will not put her through any tests for you." Emily sat and stared at the doctor. Her eyes narrowed as she processed this. "So I'm just supposed to trust you and go through all of this by myself?" Dr. Rosario returned her gaze. "Yes, you are supposed to trust me, and no, you are not going through this by yourself." He paused. "I understand that you tend to lash out against attacks, which is a normal and healthy reaction. The problem here is, cancer treatments are attacks. So do not think of this as treating a disease; you are in a fight for your life. And you need to convince Alice that I am not the enemy. I am your ally. The enemy is inside your bone marrow, and it may have spread to other areas of your body. And I think that as a licensed superhero, you know that the first thing we do in a fight is gather information about the enemy. We find out what it is, where it is, and how strong it is. In this case, the enemy is diseased tissue surrounded by healthy tissue, so the only way to reach the diseased tissue is to get past the healthy tissue and anything that is protecting it. Biopsies are invasive. They will hurt. Treatments include radiation and chemotherapy. In radiation treatments we use controlled high-energy radiation targeting the cancer, but it will leave you feeling like you have a severe sunburn inside your body. Chemotherapy is targeted poison which will disrupt your digestion and strength. You will get sick from this. You will be hurt in the process. But in all cases we try to maximize the damage to the cancer and minimize the damage to the rest of you. You will not be alone in this process. We will be with you every step of the way." Emily chewed on this for a long time, sitting silently. Annie watched her breathing and her gaze fall to the floor. Emily's fingers twisted around each other. "Thank you, Doctor," Emily finally said. Annie breathed a heavy sigh of relief, and she reached out to take Emily's hand. "So you'll do it?" Emily shook her head. "No." She stood up. "Thank you for your time, but I will not be taking treatment." And she turned to leave. "EMILY!" Annie yelled. "What are you doing?" "Miss Angel, please reconsider." Dr. Rosario said, standing up. "No, I'm sorry," Emily said. "I can't take the risk. I can't be sure I can control my reactions" "Look, I understand that you are afraid," Dr. Rosario said. "But you can't just run away from this fight, and I believe this is a fight you can win." Emily nodded. "Yes, but the thing is, I don't have to do this today. I can do this later on, as Annie said, in ten or twenty years when your technology improves, and the way you do this changes." Dr. Rosario sighed. "Yes, the technology will improve over the years, and the drugs will get better, but the tactics won't change. It will always be a fight, and you really shouldn't..." "Oh, Applesauce!" she cursed, suddenly infuriated. Emily blew out a long, loud, frosty breath of exasperation, and she wheeled at the doctor. "Listen, buster!" she yelled, jabbing a finger at him. Annie cringed in her chair, remembering how Emily could just suddenly lose her temper and what happened when she did. "Just what do you think I am? Huh?" Emily yelled. "Some pushover? A reuben? Some Dumb Dora? Some whipper-snapper that just came off the boat?" Dr. Rosario blinked in shock and he took a step back, and she advanced on him. "Do you really think for one moment I am actually this young? I'm old enough to be your great-grandmother, for Pete's sake, so I know when someone is leading me on! So knock it off with the fight-talk, okay? Just because I'm a superhero, doesn't mean that I think of everything as a fight. Fighting doesn't impress me. I actually try to avoid fights! I try to stop them. I'm not a fighter; I'm the team healer, so you can just can it with your fancy-shmancy doctor-pop-psychology!" The doctor didn't say anything, and she glared at him. "I'm not doing this!" she continued. "I don't know if I can control it, so I'm not going to put you in any danger. That's it. It's settled." She turned and walked to the door. "Come on, Annie. Let's go shopping." "Emily," Annie said. "Please don't do this." "You coming or not?" she asked. "'Cause I don't need you for a ride." "This is your health we're trying to save. Your life maybe!" Emily sighed. "I'm sorry, but I'm a healer, and I won't do anything that might threaten the life of another. Especially another healer," she said, referring to Dr. Rosario. And she turned towards the door. "Miss Angel, wait. Please," Dr. Rosario said. Emily stopped and looked at him. He took a deep breath. "All right. I apologize. I apologize for all of the fight analogies. Part of my training is finding ways to motivate a patient, and I discussed this at length with Dr. Booth, and we came to the agreement that the best way to motivate you was to use imagery from your career as a superhero. And I understand now that this is the wrong approach with you. You identify yourself as a healer. Well, so do I. So I think you would understand that your rule of not threatening the life of another healer would apply to me as well." Emily squinted at him, scrutinizing him. "You threatening me?" "I'm saying that, as per your rule, I won't do anything that threatens the life of another healer, and that includes letting you walk out that door while refusing treatment." She thought about that for a moment, and smirked. "Are you getting tough with me?" He nodded. "Yes, I am." She gave him a smile. "Good. I like my men tough." He blushed slightly, and gestured to her chair. "Please, have a seat." Emily shrugged and returned to her chair. She plopped into the seat, folded her arms, and crossed her legs. "Okay, healer. Let's talk about healing." Dr. Rosario gave her a smile and sat on the edge of his desk. He collected his thoughts for a moment. "Let's consider the thing that you are most concerned about; my safety. How precisely am I in danger from you?" Emily's smile faded, and she became very quiet, and very serious. Her eyes grew dark and deadly. "I can freeze you solid," she said. "Just as a reflexive action. And I'm not just talking a simple glaciation. I'm not limited to just coating you with ice so you suffocate painfully. No. I'm talking about a complete crystallization of every water molecule in your body. Every cell in your body bursting from the pressure of the expanding ice. The flesh breaks off the bones in huge chunks. There's no bleeding. Nothing drips. And at first nothing drops off because your body is only held together by a coating of ice. But as it melts..." Her eyes became distant. She took in a shuddering breath, and continued in a soft voice. " ... first it is just water that drips off ... and slowly over time ... the water stains." She dropped her gaze to the floor. "Then pieces just fall off," she concluded. She turned her head away from the others and looked at the bookshelves, the diplomas, the potted plants, anything but them. Annie could see her fighting the memory. The doctor watched her carefully. "I don't believe you want to do that to me," he said. "I don't want to do that to you," she answered. "I don't want to do that to anyone." "So I take it this has happened before?" "Please don't ask me about that." He glanced at Annie, and she nodded in confirmation. "So what happened?" "I said..." Emily started. "He raped her," Annie blurted out. Emily snapped at her, infuriated "ANNIE!!" Annie just continued. " ... and then he tried to do a D and C on her with non-sterile equipment, no anesthesia, and no explanations." She glared at Emily. "NONE of which will happen here." "Will you STOP that?" Emily hissed at her. Annie didn't back down. "I'm sorry, shvester, but this is why I'm here; to help you get through the hard parts. I know you've got good reasons keeping that secret, but that secret is killing you." Emily opened her mouth to respond, but couldn't. She merely squeezed her eyes shut. Dr. Rosario spoke. "I'm sorry that you went through that. It must have been humiliating and traumatic." "Thank you," she whispered, unable to look at him. "I'm not going to judge you harshly for what you've gone through. As far as I'm concerned, you've more than proven yourself in your entire career. But Miss Angel, you have to understand that the reason you are here, the reason Dr. Booth referred you to me, is that you are not the first superhuman I've had to treat." She opened her eyes and cautiously gazed at the doctor. He smiled, and rolled up one sleeve. "I've had patients who are much stronger than me, patients whose skin needed power drills to puncture, patients who fought back. See this here?" He lifted his arm and showed her the scar. "This guy was never concerned about hurting me. Those are the ones that worry me. They are the ones that tend to lash out; the ones who've never really been in a fight before." She stared at the scar until he rolled his sleeve down again, and he continued. "You on the other hand are terrified of hurting me, and have been in fights before. So I'm not worried. I have faith that you won't lash out. We'll take things slowly, I'll show you every step along the way, answer every question, and won't pull any surprises on you." Emily sat quietly for a long time, thinking, gazing at the floor, and twisting her fingers in her hands. Annie watched and wondered. There is so much fear in her. But what is it that is really scaring her? Hurting a doctor? Facing one again? Trusting one? Or is it the fact that if it works she loses the thing that gives her clarity about her life? She reached out once more and took her chilled hand, warming her. "Emily?" Emily finally lifted her eyes, and looked back and forth between Annie and Dr. Rosario. "I'm sorry," she finally said. "Thank you for your kindness, and it's nice that I have your faith and confidence, but I don't need your bravery." She stood up. "I need mine. Thank you for your time." "Bravery?" Dr. Rosario said. "But you're a superhero. Shouldn't you be brave already?" "It doesn't work like that," she answered. He cocked his head at her. "So what is it that makes a superhero brave?" She shook her head as she answered. "Not fighting for myself. I get brave when I'm helping others." Dr. Rosario blinked as he thought about this, and a smile crept over his face. "Well, if THAT is all it takes..." ------- "NOOOOOO!!! I DON'T WANNA! GET AWAY!" They could hear the screaming and crying all the way from the hallway as Dr. Rosario led Emily and Annie towards the examination room. Emily tensed up and bit her lip as she came to realize just what it was she was walking into. "In here, please," Dr. Rosario said as he opened the door for the two women. The screaming sharpened and clarified as the door opened, the full force of the sound no longer blocked, and Annie jolted in her chair as the scream pierced her spine. There were several patients inside the waiting room, but all of the attention and action was in one far corner. A young couple knelt on the floor, peering underneath the rows of chairs as a child screamed and wailed and hid under the chairs, throwing a temper tantrum. "Please, Claire. Come on out! It's going to be all right," said her mother. "It's going to be fine," said her father, reaching in towards her. "NOOOOOO!!!" she screamed and kicked. The nurse standing next to them saw Dr. Rosario come in, and she rushed to him. "Doctor, I'm sorry but you can see we haven't gotten anywhere with her. She won't lay still, and now she's fighting us. I think she's going to need a sedative." Dr. Rosario shook his head. "No need. I brought a specialist." He then just turned to Emily and looked at her. Emily's jaw dropped, and she looked back and forth between the doctor and the commotion on the far side of the room. "Your patient," he prodded her. She squinted at him. "You mean..." "Claire is seven years old, and she needs a biopsy. And she's scared. She needs someone to help her be brave. I think you can relate." Annie watched Emily carefully, but her face was a frozen mask. She could see no anger at being manipulated, nor concern for the girl. It was as if both emotions were still fighting for control over her. She simply processed this for several seconds, and then nodded. Emily carefully walked through the waiting room to the far corner, her eyes focused on the chairs that hid the crying child. As she approached her parents, she cautiously touched them on the shoulders to get their attention. "Excuse me. May I?" They shivered and jolted at her cold touch, and gave her curious looks as she slowly knelt down onto the floor. She pressed her head against the carpet and peered under the chairs at the girl curled up underneath. The child wasn't looking at her, but was still screaming and crying, and Emily gestured slightly and blew a gently chilled breeze towards her. The air tingled with the sound of mystic wind chimes, and the waft of frosty air caught the girl's attention. She turned her head and looked out at Emily. Her fearful face was a mess of redness, tears, puffy eyes, and snot draining from her nose. Her parents gasped at the sound of the wind chimes, and the room fell silent to the chilled breeze. Emily smiled at her. "Hi there." The girl wiped her eyes and nose on her sleeve, smearing away the bulk of the drainage, but leaving her face still in fear. She still shook from her crying. "You're scared, aren't you?" Emily said gently. The girl sniffed but didn't answer. "I have cancer, and I have to get a biopsy too," she said to her. "And I'm scared," she confessed. The girl still didn't say anything. Her wide, wet eyes just locked on Emily, and she strengthened her grip on the chair leg. "Can I trust you with a secret?" Emily asked. Claire nodded. Emily smiled warmly and lifted a hand. Her fingers glowed with an emerald light, illuminating her face and underneath the chairs. Several people in the room gasped at the sight, and Emily reached to the side of her face and took the edge of her glamour. She pulled it gently, and the invisible field which disguised her skin pulled away like a simple cloth, revealing the green girl inside. "I'm here to help you. Do you know who I am?" she whispered. Claire's eyes went wide in recognition, nearly as wide as her parents' eyes did. Snow Angel held her finger to her lips. "Shhhh..." she shushed, as snowflakes billowed off her fingers. "Don't tell anyone. It's a secret." Annie watched several people pull out the cell phones and take pictures. So much for the secret, she thought. "Did you know that superheroes get scared too?" Claire shook her head. "Did you know that when superheroes get scared, they work together? They find a partner, someone to help them be brave. I can help you be brave. Will you help me?" Claire just stared at her and blinked. She wiped her eyes again. "Will you go with me to get our biopsies?" Snow Angel asked Claire. "If you do, I'll go first so you can see how it works, and then when it's your turn, I won't leave you. I'll be with you for it, and I'll make sure it won't hurt you." She reached in under the chairs. "Will you come with me?" Claire studied her green hand, and her green face for a moment, and relinquished her grip on the chair leg. She reached out and took Snow Angel's hand. Snow Angel eased her out from under the chair and pulled her into an embrace. Her identity revealed, she dispensed with the clumsy attempt to stand up, and simply floated off the floor with the child in her arms. Her mother gasped in amazement. "You're cold," Claire said. "I know," Snow Angel replied to the girl. "Warm me up?" As she floated with the girl, Snow Angel turned slightly to Claire's parents. She gave the astonished couple a smile. "Hi," she said to them. "Look Mommy," Claire said. "Snow Angel!" "Shh! That was supposed to be a secret, remember?" She chided her happily. Claire blushed, and Snow Angel turned around and saw the other stunned patients watching her. She frowned at the sight of several camera phones on her. "This was SUPPOSED to be a secret, but you've all probably put this on Facebook already, right?" Several people looked a little guilty. She blew out a breath of frustration, and turned to Claire's parents. "My insurance rates are going to go through the roof now!" she complained, and then she addressed the nurse. "We're ready." As she drifted across the room to the door to the examination room, followed by a pair of stupefied parents and every pair of eyes in the room, Snow Angel gave Dr. Rosario a curious smirk. Annie could see a lot expressed in that look. It was a combination of annoyance and respect, but Annie could see underneath it all a simple joy of carrying a child in her arms. Dr. Rosario shrugged and nodded back to her. "That was pretty clever," Annie said, breaking the silence in the room as the superhero left with the child and her parents in tow. "Let me guess; She's not the first hero you've had to treat." Dr. Rosario smiled. "Miss Freidman, I work in Oncology. I see heroes every day." ------- When Snow Angel went in for her biopsy, her fears of losing control and attacking her doctor were finally manageable. Claire was watching her the whole time, holding her hand, and focusing the superhero's intentions on setting a good example. And as the needle plunged into her hip and dug excruciatingly into her bone, Snow Angel tried her best not to wince or cry out. But when she did, it was Claire who reassured her. Claire's biopsy was easier, given that Snow Angel assisted in controlling the pain. And by the time both procedures were done, a floor had amassed a bit of a crowd of spectators eagerly looking in to catch a glimpse of the hero. Snow Angel did her best to spend some time with Claire and her family after the procedure, but the spectators became too intrusive. So she traded contact information with the family, did her best to not make any promises she couldn't keep, and after sending out a quick text message, took off, soaring into the sky alone. Annie, left behind, simply followed the instructions from the text message, picked up a couple lunches, and waited for her in the cafeteria. It wasn't long before she was joined by a young teenaged black girl with long straight hair who simply sat at her table and took a plate. Annie studied the girl for a moment. "You know what they say," she said between bites of her salad. "Once you go black, you don't go back." "I've heard that," Emily said, nodding. "I always thought it referred to something else." She poured dressing over her own salad. "So, how are you doing?" "My butt hurts. And not in the good way." "It'll get better." "Speaking of which..." She pushed a mouthful of salad into her mouth and started chewing. "Vrat... ... That needle? Not nearly as long as Ron Jeremy." Annie grimaced at the image and toyed with her salad. Then she frowned, grimaced again, and looked up at her friend. "Do I want to know why the thought of your butt hurting reminded you of Ron Jeremy?" Emily smirked at her. "I don't know. Do you?" Annie quickly centered her attention back on her meal. "No." Emily giggled to herself and ate another bite of her salad. "So, what happens now? How long does this test take?" "A couple hours. Then we find out what you're going to do with the rest of your life." ------- Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. Despite a lifetime of avoidance of medical terminology and practices, as well as a general habitual pattern of denial, when the full diagnosis came in, Emily was finally healthily curious about her condition. She listened in rapt attention as Dr. Rosario explained the four basic types of Leukemia: Acute Lymphoblastic, Chronic Lymphoblastic, Acute Myeloid, and Chronic Myeloid. At first the session was jarring to her mood, offering both highs and lows as more details came in. When he explained the generally high remission rates of between 80 and 95% of children with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, she became giddy with relief. When he explained that her cancer was in an advanced stage and most likely had spread to her central nervous system, reducing her chances and necessitating another biopsy in her spine, she became depressed. Plusses improved her mood. The genetic subtype of Hyperdiploidy was associated with a positive prognosis, as well as the fact that she was female, which also improved her chances. Minuses soured her. She would have to willingly remove much or all of her magical protection to allow the drugs to take affect on her, and they would have to install a central line indwelling catheter in her chest from which she would not be allowed to repair for many months. Some facts were both bitter and sweet in one swallow. Because of her type of leukemia, he did not think her to be a good candidate for Autologous Stem Cell Transplantation therapy, which meant she would not have to undergo the painful procedure of the extraction of her own healthy stem cells from her spinal column to be reimplanted after radiation treatment. Unfortunately, someone else would have to go through this, which meant finding a healthy donor for Allogeneic Stem Cell Transplantation; preferably a close blood relative. She would have to take a leave of absence from Earthguard for several months, possibly a year, in order to undergo treatment. Annie calculated that since Emily never got sick, she should have accumulated several months worth of sick-leave from her years in EarthGuard. Emily confessed that even though she didn't get sick, she still managed to use much of that time for other reasons. As the meeting progressed, Emily's mood eventually settled. The constant swinging back and forth between depression and relief was exhausting for her, and she finally centered in on a consistent calmness. Annie marvelled at her strength and willingness to face this issue finally, and continued to offer encouragement and support as the doctor explained the different medicines used in induction therapy: Antitumor antibiotics, Tyrosine Kinase inhibitors, DNA-repair enzyme inhibitors, DNA-synthesis inhibitors, DNA-damaging agents, antimetabolites, mitotic inhibitors, asparagine catalysts, and synthetic hormones. Each came with a list of side effects ranging from mouth ulcers, diarrhea, hair loss, rashes, nausea and fatigue to more severe reactions of hyper-allergies and other cancers. But through it all, Emily sat and listened calmly, and asked questions, and quietly adapted to her new situation. She was a trooper, Annie came to realize, a true hero facing a long drawn-out battle with inspirational courage and dignity. It was only when the doctor brought up the subject of infertility that all Hell broke loose. ------- "INFERTILE?!" the superhero blasted at the doctor. Snow Angel launched out of her chair. Her disguising glamour immediately evaporated as her costume flashed over her body in reaction. A frigid arctic gale stormed from her form and swept the room, scattering papers and books and furnishings. "Miss Angel, please..." the doctor said, startled, standing up. "QUIET! I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANYTHING ELSE FROM YOU!" He desperately held his hands out, either trying to calm her down or trying to protect himself. "But's it's not that... "I SAID BE QUIET!" she screamed. Huge snowy wings had burst from her back and flapped violently, upsetting the desk lamp and folders of papers. The freezing wind screeched and howled, biting painfully into Annie's face and hands as she braced herself against it. "THE ONLY REASON I'M DOING THIS IS SO I CAN HAVE A BABY! AND NOW YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT IF I DO THIS I CAN'T?" Annie yelled at her over the blast of frigid wind. "EMILY! Stop it!" But Snow Angel didn't stop. She merely turned her attention and rage towards the paralyzed girl. "YOU!" she barked, and her wings dug into the air, spinning her. Snow Angel swooped down to Annie and grabbed her by the shirt with both fists. Annie screamed as the raging sorceress hoisted her up out of her wheelchair and violently slammed her into the bookcase, knocking over books and plastic models of human organs. "You pushed me into this!" she hissed at her. "Why the hell did you do this to me?" Annie clawed at Snow Angel's icy arms "Emily! Put me down! Now!" "I thought you were my friend! I thought I could trust you!" "I AM your friend!" Annie yelled back. "And what are you talking about? Put me down!" "You know damn well!" she growled. "Miss Angel! Please!" Doctor Rosario managed to say, approaching her carefully. "Calm down. It's not that..." The office door opened at that moment, and a concerned nurse poked her head inside. "Doctor? Is everything all right in..." She froze as she saw the superhero pinning Annie to the wall. Snow Angel glanced at the open door, and then scowled back at Annie. "I'm talking to you in private!" And with an explosion of snow and wind, Snow Angel rocketed out through the door, blowing past the nurse and carrying a screaming Annie with her. "EMILY! STOP!!!" "OUT OF MY WAY!" Snow Angel roared at the people in the hallway. Doctors, nurses, patients, family members, and custodians all screamed and jumped aside as they could as the superhero barreled through the hospital hallway carrying the screaming girl. She slalomed around slower people and flipped in a corner before taking off in a new direction. "STOP!!" Annie yelled. She clutched her stomach as her limp body painfully flailed and whipped in the superhero's strong and icy arms. The centrifugal force from the hairpin turns bruised her ribs and forced too much blood into her head. "I CAN'T..." But Snow Angel didn't stop. She had reached the main atrium, and as the dozens of people there gasped and pointed, she swooped past the main entrance and fired a single blast of ice at the door. The ice bolt hit the door frame and ricocheted off harmlessly, but its simple presence was enough to trigger the motion sensors. The automatic doors opened, clearing a path, and Snow Angel looped, spun, and swept Annie outside into the open air. Annie screamed in horror as Snow Angel went ballistic, rocketing them both straight up into the clear sky. The frigid air roared and her ears popped as they soared higher and higher. She could see the hospital and the surrounding landscape shrink underneath her as they accelerated even higher. Her stomach pulled into her throat. "EMILY! STOP!" she begged. Snow Angel suddenly stopped, and Annie flipped upside down and around like a loose rag doll in her arms. Annie had lost all sense of up and down for a moment, and when she finally got her bearings back, Snow Angel was holding her tightly by the collar of her blouse, and burning her gaze into her. "You knew, didn't you?" Snow Angel accused her. Her snowy wings churned the cold air. Her frozen breath sent shivers down Annie's spine, and her icy knuckles pressed into her neck. "I..." Annie started, and she thrashed in panic as she saw the fury in her friend's eyes. "Please, Emily! You're scaring me!" "You knew about the infertility all along! You knew the treatment would make me sterile! YOU KNEW! Tell me you knew!" She was crying now, and she shook Annie, trying to pull a confession out of her. "That's what you didn't want to talk about in the car, isn't it? And I told you I wanted to have a baby, and you didn't say anything!" Despite the frigid cold in her arms, Annie held tightly to Snow Angel's wrists to keep from falling. Annie couldn't answer, and she turned her head to the ground, unable to look in her eyes. The truth was, she did know about the infertility. She wanted to tell her. She just didn't know how, or even if she should. Her eyes locked on the sight of her limp feet dangling in the air so very far over the solid ground hundreds of feet below her, and her spine tensed and her stomach churned as she realized just how much danger she was in. She was practically powerless, and had enraged one of the most powerful people on the planet. But through all the fear and terror, an odd calmness emerged. The open sky, the distant ground, the clouds, the sun, the sense of flight, they all beckoned to her spirit. Joey, she remembered, he always made time for her to go flying. It was an odd thought to come at this moment, but it was always so magical and romantic, providing her comfort, empowerment, and strength. Her mind flashed to new thoughts and new patterns, eager to bury the fear and terror her friend was pouring into her. Analysis and cold logic moved in like a comfortable friend, and she tried estimating the actual altitude they were at, but it was a difficult skill to master. She wasn't as good at estimating far distances as... "Quantum Knight," she remembered. She glanced at the bracelet she wore on her wrist. It was a bracelet Quantum Knight had given her for tracking in case of emergencies. Just the simple knowledge that she was not completely alone and entirely powerless calmed her further. All she had to do was drop the bracelet off her wrist, let it fall to the earth, and Quantum Knight would notice. "She's probably noticed already," Annie surmised, realizing that Quantum Knight would notice that she was up in the air without Joey, and should become concerned enough to investigate. "Emily?" Annie said as calmly as possible as she dropped her hands behind her back. She held the superhero's eyes in her gaze. "Put me down." Snow Angel made no move indicating any intention of following her instruction. "Why did you make me go through all that when you knew the only reason I was doing it was to have a baby? Huh? Why didn't you say anything?" Calmness brought knowledge. Knowledge brought strength. She took a deep breath. "You're abusing your powers, Emily, ' Annie said, still calmly, while casually fingering the clasp on the bracelet. She decided she didn't need to drop it just yet. "AND SO ARE YOU!" Emily screamed back, still hysterical. "INFORMATION IS POWER, AND YOU ABUSED IT! NOW WHY DID YOU PUT ME THROUGH ALL THIS!" Cold logic. The sky. The sun. The wind. Annie could feel the cool breeze blowing through her long hair. The bracelet. These empowered her. She was no longer afraid. Fear was gone, replaced by a surge of confidence. Behind her back, she opened one hand and held her palm flat open. "Emily?" she started. -SLAP!- Annie slapped her hard in the face. "EMILY! STOP IT!" Snow Angel balked, stunned at Annie's sudden attack, and shrieked as Annie turned the tables, grabbed her collar, and pulled her close. "Now we both know you're not going to drop me," Annie growled at the superhero. "So you control yourself, young lady!" "Don't you 'young lady' me! I'm old enough to be your great..." "THEN ACT YOUR AGE!" That got through to her. Snow Angel's jaw dropped as she came to realize what it was she was doing. Her eyes widened in horror. Annie just continued. "You didn't let him finish. He wasn't saying that you WILL go sterile. He was only telling you the truth that there is a CHANCE it will happen. But it's not certain. It depends on a lot of factors, including how far you let your cancer go without treatment and how cooperative you are." She let that sink in for a moment. "But many women have gone through this and still have had healthy babies. So there is still the chance that you will make it through and be able to have children. But even if something goes wrong, there are still options!" Snow Angel started shivering. "Like what?" she asked, her voice cracking. Annie took a deep breath, pleased that she was making some progress in calming her down. "You can harvest your eggs. We can freeze embryos now and implant them later on when you are healthier. Or you can use a surrogate mother. And if all else fails, you can always adopt!" "But that won't work!" Snow Angel cried. "I need to bear my own children! That's the only way I can..." She stopped. Annie waited. No answer was coming. "The only way you can what?" she prompted. The superhero shivered again. Her face fell, and she couldn't look at her friend. "I ... don't know," she finally answered. "What do you mean, you don't know?" "I..." She stopped again, and her face twisted in anguish. Tears rolled from her eyes and solidified on her cheeks. She just dropped her head and buried her face into Annie's chest. She shook, crying and holding her. "I don't know!" she sobbed. "I don't ... Help me!" Annie watched her carefully, and cradled her head to her bosom. She stroked her hair and thought for a moment. "What are you feeling?" she asked. The superhero cried and sniffed in her arms. "I feel like such a failure!" Snow Angel moaned. "You're hardly a failure. A failure as what?" She shook her head. "I don't know." "As a woman?" Annie asked. "Do you feel like you have to bear your own children to be a complete woman?" "It's not that." "Then what is it?" Snow Angel was silent for a moment. "I don't know," she finally managed. "I just feel so ... trapped. Like I can't go on with my life." Annie thought about this. She held the girl in her arms and caressed her, soothing her while thinking. Something was bothering her, some detail nagged her in the back of her mind, and she finally realized what it was. She gently pushed Snow Angel's face away from her body and held her face in her hands, and gazed into her eyes. "You know?" she said to the superhero. "Besides the fact that you are currently dangling me hundreds of feet over the ground and threatening my life, you know the thing that intrigues me the most right now?" Snow Angel shook her head. "You're not wincing when you say you don't know what the problem is," Annie explained. "Normally when people are crying and they say they don't know what the problem is, they really do know what it is, but they just don't want to admit it to themselves. So they lie to themselves. But you don't lie. You can't. So you really don't know what the problem is, do you Emily?" Snow Angel blinked as she processed this. Annie continued. "Emily, you have no reason to feel like a failure. You're one of the most successful superheroes on the planet. You're famous and wealthy. You have friends and lovers. You lead an exciting life. You handle dangerous situations with ease. And unlike the way immortals are supposed to do, you've handled nearly a century of eternal youth and losing friends and lovers without collapsing into a depressing puddle of emo." She paused, peering deeply into her eyes. "It's almost like there is someone else in there who is the one who really feels like a failure. Am I right, Alice?" Snow Angel's eyes fell, and Annie watched as the light of realization dawned over her face. Annie gave her a moment, and tilted her face back up, and continued. "Alice?" she said into Snow Angel's eyes, "I can understand you feeling like a failure. You're a healer, and you bonded with this sick girl to save her life, but you can't cure her. You bit off more than you could chew. So you have to live every day fighting to keep her alive and losing her just a little bit more and more every day. That's what's happening, right? "And apparently you are trapped in there. If your only way out is through that vagina and into a new healthy body, then I can see why the prospect of sterility would scare you. But Alice? Emily is a pregnant teen now, and that's messing up her hormones a lot, and she's having enough trouble managing her moods without your emotions bleeding into her as well. So you need to control yourself. And like a good symbiote you need to respect your host's wishes. It's her body, and not yours. You are just along for the ride. You feel embarrassed that you took on a project that you need help on? Well, welcome to our world. We do that all the time. You scared that you are going to die when this body dies? Welcome to our world. We do it all the time." Snow Angel dropped her eyes from Annie's gaze, and stared off into space. She took in a shuddering breath. "Is this true?" she asked. "I think it's..." Annie started to answer. "Not asking you." She paused. "Well? Is it?" she asked again. They waited. "ANSWER ME!" Snow Angel screamed. They waited in silence some more, and Snow Angel let out a gasp and a shudder. She turned back to Annie, her eyes watery with tears and anguish. "I'm so sorry," she said. "It's okay," Annie consoled. She pulled the superhero into a hug again, and Snow Angel shook and bawled into her chest. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" "It's okay, shvester. You're going to be fine" ------- Chapter 21: Hunting and Praying "Jeff hasn't asked me out yet." Sarah whispered. Joey looked up from the book he was examining. The school's library was small and limited, nothing compared to the public library that Annie regularly took him to. Also, the books tended to focus on physics and history here, which made sense for the school's purposes, but it didn't really have enough art books. They were standing in the rows of bookshelves, far from the work tables. She clung to her notebook tightly and glared at him. "You told him, right?" she asked. "Yesterday," he said, nodding. "Well, what is he waiting for? Am I supposed to walk by him and drop a hankie or something?" She sighed heavily and scrutinized Joey. "Have you at least asked Lynne out yet?" He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves for the thirty-seventh time that day. Every time he saw Lynne his spine shrunk, his mouth went dry, and his stomach churned. He just couldn't approach her. Every time he tried, he faltered. He'd find himself unable to walk in her direction, always diverting at the last moment. He knew what he had to do, but just couldn't bring himself to do it. It was just too awkward. Jeff was always there, always guarding her, always watching over her. And because he couldn't do it, the answer he had to give Sarah was just as embarrassing. "No," he finally confessed. She gaped at him in disgust. "Why not!?" "Hey! It's not..." he whispered back a little too loudly, and quieted himself. "It's not that easy, okay?" He took in a shuddering breath. "It's a little ... nerve-wracking, all right?" She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Boys!" she cursed. Then she rolled her eyes back to him and glared at him incredulously. "You both know we're going to say 'yes', so I don't see what the problem is." Joey took another deep breath and sighed as he peeked over the line of books and across the library, where he could see Lynne and Jeff sitting and working at a table. As Jeff worked on a calculator, Joey watched Lynne as she wrote with one hand, and toyed with one long lock of chocolate-brown hair with the other. Her dark eyes darted across the page as she wrote, and Joey watched her intently, and he dropped his gaze down to her sumptuous body. She was incredible, irresistible. The full curves of her breasts, her hips, and her ass made his mouth water and his palms itch. She idly moved the long lock of hair to her lips, catching his attention, and as she absentmindedly chewed on her hair, Joey saw her pink tongue for the briefest second, and it sparked his imagination for the thirty-eighth time that day. He imagined himself with her, running his fingers over her voluptuous body and up through her long hair, kissing her and tasting her warm lips and tongue, holding her softness up against himself, pressing her full breasts into his chest, and sliding a hand down over her hip and ass, caressing and lifting her in a deep kiss. He wondered what her kisses were like. She was so quiet, so soft, so shy, yet her music and her singing were so passionate. And he had seen her temper flare to dangerous levels when she confronted Clyde last week. Were her kisses like that, soft and sensitive? Or did her quiet demeanor hide a tiger? He knew he was only one question away from finding out, and his stomach twisted into a knot as he thought about it. His face flushed and his heart pounded hard in his chest, and he turned back to Sarah, who was still looking at him, expecting a response. "Why is it that it's always up to the boy to ask the girl out, huh?" he asked her. "Why don't you ask him?" She glared at him. "That's not the way this works, and you know that." Joey flustered. "But that's not fair. It's not like boys have, like, training in this or something. It's not any easier for us. I don't know what you girls go through in Health class, but for us, we don't get a list of pick-up lines. We just hear about STDs and pregnancy, and put condoms on bananas." "Boys ask girls out. That's the natural order of things." "Don't talk to me about the natural order of things. Not in this school. I've seen the way you floss your teeth." She shoved him. "Go ask her out!" she hissed at him. "And kick Jeff or something. Get him over here." "Hey! Why don't you cast a love spell on him or something?" Sarah opened her mouth to answer, and grimaced. "I..." She fell silent with an embarrassed look on her face. Joey frowned at her. "What?" "I um..." She blushed. "I already tried that," she confessed. He gave her a bewildered stare. "You did?" She shrugged. "It didn't work. And I can't figure out why. I think I don't know how to spell his middle name right." "Well, what is his middle name?" "According to the yearbook? 'Andrew'." "'Andrew'? You don't know how to spell 'Andrew'?" "Yes I do! But it doesn't work. I can't figure out his full legal name. Is it Jeff? Jeffery? Jefferson? Andy? Drew? I've tried them all, and they don't work." She sighed in frustration. "I can't tie a binding to him through his name. It would be so much easier if I had something else that associates with his passions, like his..." She gestured oddly. "You know," she said, hoping he knew. Joey shook his head. "No. His what?" "His..." She gestured again, only this time lower, near her crotch. "You know, his stuff?" Joey just frowned at her, and she tried again. "You remember? Strongly associated with passion? Makes a mess?" "You mean his ... his sperm?" Joey said, silently mouthing the final word. Sarah nodded. "You want me to get a sperm sample from him for you?" "No, dummy!" She huffed. "I'm just saying that with that stuff, I can make a really good love charm." She thought about it for a moment. "Of course, if I can get that stuff, I really don't NEED one. Kind of stupid if you think about it." Joey just shook his head again in confusion, and turned around to peek at the twins again. "Remind me to visit you on your home planet someday." "So I can't cast a love charm. So it's up to you." Sarah shoved him again. "So go out there." He turned back to her. "Hey!" he whispered. "You remember when you told me that you weren't good at this?" "Yeah?" "Well, I'm not good at it either." She softened. "Joey. You asked me out, and it worked. I said 'yes'. It'll work again." She gave him an encouraging smile. "Just ... Go to a happy place and ask her out, okay? Think about motorboating her." He gave the image a moment, and his mouth went dry again. "Believe me. That doesn't help." Her turned back and looked at the two again. "God, they're practically clinging to each other now. I think we scared them." He took a deep breath. "Well, here goes." Joey tried to push all of the nervousness away, and walked out of the shelves and back to the tables. "Do it. Just do it. Just ask her out. Just tell Jeff to take a hike and ask her out. You can do it." He clenched his hands into fists and focused his eyes on Lynne as he approached. His heart pounded in his chest, and his skin shivered. "Just ask her out. Just do it. You can do it." Lynne shifted in her seat and dropped the lock of hair she was chewing on, and concentrated on her writing. She pushed her tongue out slightly as she focused, and that tongue became the center of Joey's universe. He could see it glisten and slide across her lips, and he fantasized about kissing her, and licking that tongue. She glanced up at him, and Joey instinctively chickened out. He averted his eyes, and felt this strong desire to get away as fast as possible. He continued walking, not breaking stride, and walked right past their table and over to another table. He sat down at his spot next to Simon in shame. "Fucking coward," he told himself. "What the hell is wrong with me? I swear, I was going to ask her out!" He opened his book and just stared at the pages, not even reading or even remembering which book he picked up. He just tried to not look up. He tried to just vanish, just bury himself in a hole inside the book and disappear from the Earth. He didn't want to look at Lynne, didn't think he had the right to, and he certainly didn't want to look at Sarah right now. Simon glanced up from his work and took in the scene. "Sarah looks pretty pissed at you," he whispered to Joey. "I know," Joey mumbled and groaned, hiding in his book. "Lover's spat?" "Don't start that," he grunted back. "Sorry. What's wrong?" Joey gave Jeff and Lynne a quick glance. "I don't know. I just can't ... I keep trying to ask Lynne out, but I just ... I can't even get close to her." He sighed and sank into his seat. "I'm pathetic." Simon looked back and forth between Joey and the twins. "Anything I can do to help? I am your wingman." "Don't know. I need to talk to Jeff, get him to ask Sarah out. Can you think of a way to get Jeff away from Lynne?" "Other than just walking up to him and asking him to leave?" "Yeah," Joey mumbled. "Text him?" Joey brightened. "Why the hell didn't I think of that?" Simon shrugged. "Probably because you didn't grow up with cell phones." Joey pulled out his cell phone. "Do you have his number?" Simon shook his head. "No." He gave him a grin. "But give me a moment." Joey watched as Simon stared at the twins and concentrated, and he realized his friend was remotely scanning their electronics. Simon frowned. "Bad news," he reported. "They only have one cell phone, and it's in her bag." "You're kidding." "Old model too. Cheap, proprietary software. Battery is shot too." "Why doesn't he have a cell phone?" Joey wondered. Simon squinted as he scanned her bag. "She's also got a simple MP3 player, and a..." Simon frowned. "What the hell is that?" Joey briefly remembered an electronic device of Tricia's that caused some awkwardness when he discovered it. "That's probably personal," he said. "Just get out of her stuff." "No. No. I want to..." "Seriously. Stop it." "I'm intrigued now." "Simon. Do NOT turn it on." "I can't. It's a hard switch. And it's not what you think," Simon defended. "It feels like an oscilloscope." "I don't care what they're calling them these days. Just leave it alone." "It doesn't have a motor," Simon explained. "It feels simple, like some sort of signal analyzer." "Well ... then it doesn't matter. Just forget about it, okay?" Simon turned to Joey and gave him a serious look. "Dude. It may be an E-meter," he whispered gravely. "A what?" "It's like a volt meter, but like two hundred times more expensive for no fucking good reason." "And what's an E-..." "Scientologists use them." Joey stared at Simon for a couple seconds, and just blinked. "They're not Scientologists," he whispered back harshly. "How do you know?" "I don't..." Joey faltered. "Look, they're just not, okay? Don't be ridiculous. If they could afford that ... that E-thing, then they could afford a couple decent cell phones, don't you think?" "I don't think you know how Scientology works. That's an expensive hobby." "Just drop it, will you?" "You know," Simon pondered. "I never really considered it before, but that would explain a lot about them. Always spaced out. Kind of weird. Never really mix with the others. Poor. Thrift-shop clothes." Joey buried his face in his hands and moaned. "Oy, vey." "And the church actually targets musicians and actors, you know? People with talent? Just in case they become celebrities." "They're not Scientologists," Joey moaned. "Dude, I'm warning you," Simon said, putting a hand on Joey's shoulder. "If you find out she's a Scientologist, run, don't walk. Get away from her. She will be completely brain-dead and she will suck you in, and suck you dry." Joey glared at Simon. "Which part of 'drop it' did you not understand? And stop talking about her like that." Simon smiled. "Ah. You're pissed." He poked him in the shoulder. "You're defending your woman's honor. So, still feeling nervous?" He blinked as he thought about it. "No." "Good. Now ask her out." Joey looked about. Simon was smiling to him, and Lynne worked steadily on her homework next to her brother. Sarah caught his eye from across the library and glared at him from the bookshelves, pointed at him, and silently mouthed something which he was glad he couldn't hear. "I..." He sighed. The nervousness built up again. "I can't just do that here. I need to talk to her alone. And I need to talk to Jeff." Simon pondered this, and watched Jeff as he worked. A slight grin came over his face as he saw Jeff's calculator. "Okay, I've got an idea," he said, and he turned to a blank sheet of paper in his notebook. He started drawing symbols and doing calculations. Joey frowned. "What are you doing?" "Calculating hex codes for some seven-segment patterns." He looked up and saw Joey squinting at him in bafflement. "It's technical," he offered as an explanation. Joey watched him as Simon worked out details for eight patterns, and then arranged the numbers into a sequence. "Got it," he announced when he finished. "Okay, now go wait for him in the shelves. I'll send him to you." "Thanks, wingman," Joey whispered, and he got up and headed back to the shelves. He wandered the aisles of books, peeking between the shelves, and keeping a close eye on the tables. He saw Simon concentrate. And a moment later, he saw Jeff blink and flinch as he worked on the calculator. Lynne stopped working for a moment, apparently sensing something amiss, but then continued working. And Jeff, without a word to his sister, stood up, took his calculator, and looked about the library. Joey peered around the books and waited until Jeff caught his eye, and he waved the boy over. As he approached, Jeff held out his calculator, showing it to Joey. It clearly showed the words "JEFF.SEE.JOEY" written in the digital display. "You know anything about this?" he asked. "Yeah," Joey whispered back. "What the hell are you doing, man?" Jeff paused. "Um ... math?" Joey held up his fingers indicating an inch. "Sarah is about this close to freaking out because you haven't asked her out yet. What are you waiting for?" Jeff paused for a moment to think about it, and Joey got the distinct impression that he really didn't have a good answer. He just took in a very deep breath, apparently giving himself time to come up with an explanation, but his lungs weren't large enough to give him all the time he really needed. He reached saturation point, exhaled heavily, and started taking another deep breath. Joey just gave up waiting for him. "And why are you hovering on your sister, man? You told me you would clear away and give me a shot." He just shook his head. "Look, Joey. I'm..." He flexed his fingers, trying to find the words. "It's really..." He looked frightened. Joey took his shoulder, and Jeff startled at the touch. "Hey," he said. "It's okay. I'm nervous too." Jeff thought about it and nodded. "Yeah," he said. The tone was strange. It was either a question or an agreement. "You like her, don't you?" Joey asked. "Oh. Yeah." He nodded, and smiled. "Cause she's crazy about you, man." Jeff gave that a moment, and chuckled and grinned to himself. "Plus, she really likes your butt." He lifted an eyebrow. "Well, it is nice." he admitted. Joey squinted at him. "Yeah. Well. Glad we're all in agreement about that." He grabbed his arm and pushed him. "Now get that gorgeous butt over there and ask her out." Jeff resisted. "Hold it. Wait. Joey." "What?" Jeff was flustered, and he looked around, breathing heavily, and looked like he was trying to collect his thoughts. "When I talk to Sarah, are you going to..." He stopped. "What?" He sighed. "Look, Lynne's not in the best of moods right now." Joey frowned. "What do you mean?" Jeff shrugged. "She had a rough night. Didn't get much sleep. She got a headache, and she had some cramps, and she skipped her meds, and um..." "Jeff?" Joey interrupted. "You're focusing on the wrong woman here." He blinked as he processed this. "Yeah, I guess I am," he admitted. Joey turned him in the aisle and pointed him to Sarah. "She's over there." He slapped him on the arm. "Now go get her." He watched Jeff as he cautiously made his way over to Sarah, and Joey smiled to himself as he saw them meet and finally start talking. Sarah was flushed with excitement, and she swayed on her hips as she listened to him. Joey couldn't hear any words from this distance, but he didn't really need to. Jeff nervously said something, and she giddily smiled and said something back. He smiled and spoke, and she eagerly nodded. Joey felt a strange mix of feelings. He was proud of his friends, proud of Jeff for facing his fears, and happy for Sarah for finding her happiness. But he also envied Jeff for what he was going to eventually experience, remembering the sweet feel and taste of Sarah's skin and lips. He could see them holding hands, and Jeff caressing her fingers, apparently sensing the magical essence that permeated her body. "Good job, man. Now, it's my turn," he told himself. He swallowed hard, trying to clear the lump from his throat and turned back to the tables. "I can do it. It's just her now. Just walk up to her and talk to her. Just..." Joey stopped as he reached the section of tables, and his jaw dropped. He looked around. "Now where the fuck did Lynne go?" She was gone. She wasn't at the table. The table still held their books, and her bag was still there, but she was gone. Joey stood there and blinked in bafflement, and looked at Simon questioningly. Simon knew what his question was, and he gently tilted his head, indicating a direction, and then continued working. Joey nodded to him in thanks, and headed in that direction, to the far side of the library. Joey carefully searched the entire length of the other side of the library, keeping quiet and listening carefully. He walked the entire back row, checking every aisle of bookshelves. She wasn't in any of them. He doubled back, and checked again, but she still wasn't there. He turned around and considered the row of individual study rooms along the back wall, and carefully peered through the windows, looking for her. He found her, and he found himself just staring at her. He blinked in bafflement at what he saw, and his heart sank. Lynne was alone in the room, kneeling, and apparently speaking to someone. She wasn't on the phone, and she wasn't facing the window, and Joey just stood for a moment and watched this beautiful girl as she whispered and held her hands together tightly. He felt himself backing away in shock and respect. Joey slowly made his way back to his spot next to Simon. In the distance he could see Sarah and Jeff whispering to each other animatedly, filled with joy and excitement, and he felt nothing. He took his seat and just quietly sank next to Simon. "Well?" Simon asked. "Did you find her?" He nodded. His face was blank with confusion. "Did you talk to her?" He shook his head. "Well, what happened?" Joey turned to his friend, looking for answers. He paused as he thought about what he had just seen. "Well?" Simon asked. "She was praying," Joey finally said. ------- "Attention all travellers," said the woman's voice over the loudspeakers. "American Airlines flight 263 to Los Angeles has been delayed for an unscheduled minor maintenance." A chorus of groans erupted from the gate. "We expect the delay to take no more than one hour. We apologize for the inconvenience, and will be boarding as soon as maintenance is completed. If you have any other questions, please feel free to ask at the information desk, and we thank you for choosing American Airlines." "Jesus Christ!" Clifford Sutton cursed as he pried himself out of the seat and shouldered his travel bag. Gate 16 was crowded with frustrated travellers, many of whom were storming the information desk where a harried woman in a uniform plastered on a smile and bravely repeated her talking points of apologies and promises with little effect. "Why does this always happen to me?" he griped, and he pulled out his cell phone, stomping angrily out of the gate and down the causeway. "Hey babe," he said into the phone as she answered. "It's me. Guess what? They're delaying my flight, so I'll be late ... No, they say it's minor maintenance. Probably something stupid like they have to replace a light bulb in an exit sign, which means calling in a damned union team for three hours minimum. I know how they work." He strode through the airport, searching and scanning. "Where can a guy get a drink around here?" He paused as he found a Baltimore Orioles themed sports bar, and peered inside. "No, don't," he responded. "I'll just get a cab. Don't wait up for me ... Damn!" His curse wasn't out of anger, but of surprise and admiration. For while he was on the phone with his wife, Clifford locked his eyes on an exotic beauty sitting alone at the bar. The sultry vixen practically oozed sex as she sat alone, sipping a drink. She had a wild, wavy blond hair, dark eyes, flawless olive skin, pouting lips, and killer curves. Full breasts and hips stretched a tight black dress that must have been sprayed on her, and her long, shapely legs wrapped about the barstool with the grip of a stripper. Her feet were bare. He licked his lips in raw hunger at the sight of her toes and saw her eye him through the window. His heart skipped a beat and his dick twinged with life as their eyes met. "No hon," he responded to his wife. "No, they just ... They just made another announcement." His eyes traversed her body, taking in the succulent curves and shadows, shapes and movement as she shifted on the stool. Her deep cleavage and rounded ass beckoned to him. Dark eyes pierced him from across the room and through the window, and as she sipped her drink, her moist tongue touched the edge of her glass. Her lips became everything to him, those soft, full lips. He imagined kissing those lips, biting them, sucking them into his mouth, and then later on watching them wrap around his cock. She lifted an eyebrow, and then one corner of her mouth as she stared at him, inviting him, as if reading his mind. "Yeah, it's turned out that..." he continued on the phone. " ... it's going to take longer. Look, I'm going to have to get another flight ... No, I don't know ... Yeah, I'll give you a call when I do ... Yeah ... Take care, babe ... Love you too ... Bye." He ended the call and dropped his phone into his pocket. The woman smiled at him and turned back to the bar. Clifford quickly checked his breath, pulled his wedding ring off his finger, and headed in. He sidled up next to her, watching her smirk as she eyed him. He could feel her body heat already. "Hi," he said. "Hi," she answered. Her voice was sultry and breathy. "Can I buy you a drink?" She crinkled her nose in disappointment, and sighed. "Well, it's not the best of pick-up lines, but at least it's an old standard." Clifford frowned. "Sorry." He thought about it. "How about ... Where are you headed?" She lifted an eyebrow and glanced down his body. "South. You?" He saw her eye his groin, and wasn't sure whether she was being literal or figurative. "West," he replied. "But would it be too much to say I'd follow you to the ends of the Earth?" She chewed on that for a moment, and he got a smile from her. She chuckled and gave him a rewarding hair flip, giving him a chance to check out her full breasts. They sloshed and jiggled in her tight dress in reaction to the motion. He leaned in closer to her. "My name is..." "I really don't care," she interrupted. He stopped in bafflement, and a cold shiver ran up his spine. She stared at him deeply. "What?" he managed. "I don't care what your name is," she said simply. It wasn't said as an insult, just as a statement of fact. "Don't really need to know." She leaned her face on one hand and just stared at him. Her face softened to a look of simple desire. "Do you know what the best pick-up line I've ever heard was?" she asked. He shook his head. "No." "Have you ever just fucked a total stranger?" Clifford gaped at her and dropped his jaw. She cocked her head at him. "Total stranger. No names. No past. No future. No drama. No cost. No rules. Just fuck." She breathed in deeply, filling her chest. "Just a moment of pure, impulsive, anonymous passion. Just getting your cock sucked in an airport bathroom and never seeing each other again." He stared at her in astonishment for a good long moment. "That's a good pick-up line," he finally admitted. "You should try it," she whispered, and she oozed off the barstool and sauntered out into the causeway. Clifford swallowed and watched her fine ass and legs as she headed towards the Men's room across the causeway. There was a sign on the door that read "Out of Order", and she slipped inside. "Thank you, God!" Clifford breathed, and he grabbed his bag and eagerly followed her across and inside the restroom. She was waiting for him, pulling one dress strap down her creamy shoulder. Clifford dropped his bag and glanced at the stalls. "Are we alone?" he asked. The blond woman stepped up to him, roughly grabbed his shirt, and pulled him to her, mashing her full breasts into his chest. "I put the sign up an hour ago," she whispered, her breath warming his face. "We're alone." Then she attacked him with a sudden, hard kiss. She smashed her full lips against his and quickly wrapped her arms about his neck, locking him in a tight embrace. She tilted her head to one side and obscenely started grinding her mouth into his, grunting, groaning, and hungrily licking and sucking his lips as she pressed her voluptuous body forward. Clifford staggered from the attack and then grabbed her body and held her tight, kissing her back, diving into her mouth and tasting her. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, and she moaned and sucked hard on it They were desperately pulling and pushing each other, struggling for balance as they grasped and clawed each other, mouthing, kissing, licking, and rubbing each other. Her strong hands mauled his body as she grabbed him, and Clifford surged forward, kissing her back hard, sucking on her hot tongue and her sweet lips. The woman was a deluge of power and sex, very strong for her size, but he was larger and had more leverage, and he pushed her back against the counter. She grunted and moaned through the kiss, pawing him, spreading her legs, enjoying his roughness and urging him on. His fingers squeezed into her soft and round ass, lifting her up onto the sinks as she grasped his head in her hands. Her tongue was hot in his mouth, snaking across his, and her soft body pressed into his. His cock was soon alive and demanding, pushing painfully against his underwear. She held his head with both hands and cravenly attacked his mouth, grunting and gasping as she devoured his mouth, his lips, and his cheeks. She was past kissing, and was now biting him softly, pulling and chewing his skin with her teeth, and Clifford desperately squeezed her hot body up against his. His hands roamed her back, and he could feel her large, soft breasts press up to his chest. Her legs wrapped around him, her body undulated, and she pushed her crotch up against his. Clifford thrust into her instinctively, and she threw her head back, exposing her neck to him and grinding her pussy into his cock. "Yes," she hissed at him. He moved his mouth down to her neck, biting and chewing her skin. She moaned and writhed under him, clawing his back and squeezing his hips with her strong thighs. He could see her fat tits bulging out of the top of her tight dress, and he reached for the zipper in the back. He opened her dress and roughly pulled the straps over her shoulders, exposing her bare breasts. He pulled back off her body long enough to admire her. "God damn!" he exclaimed, and he grabbed her ample breasts with both hands and plunged his face into her cleavage. The blond gasped and writhed and cradled his head to her bosom as he mauled and devoured her breasts. He lifted one fat tit to his mouth and clamped on her erect nipple, and she gasped and squirmed under his attentions. He suckled her, and she arched her back and moaned with pleasure, and ground her pussy into his cock. Clifford squeezed the woman's breasts together, licking and sucking her nipples and burying his face and tongue into her deep cleavage, continuously coaxed by her heavy panting and thrusting. She slipped her hand down and rubbed his hard cock through his pants. He shuddered, and pushed forward, giving her more access. As he bit and chewed on her neck and mauled her beautiful breasts, she opened his pants, reached in, and grabbed ahold of his swollen shaft. Clifford shuddered as she squeezed him, and with one free hand she pushed his head away from her and stared into his eyes, holding his attention. "I want to suck your cock," she rasped at him. "Oh, sweet Jesus," he panted back. She pushed him backwards harshly and slid off the counter. Still grasping his erection in her hand, she yanked him to a stall. Clifford watched excitedly as her bare breasts bounced and jiggled on her chest as she sat on the toilet. He stood in front of her, his hard dick pointing straight at her, and she pulled his pants down over his butt. Then she grabbed his ass, pulled him forward, and started hungrily licking his cock. "Oh God!" Clifford gasped, and he grabbed the tops of the stall walls and held on for support as she worked his dick, stroking and licking it. "That's it, babe. Suck it." Her hot, wet tongue dragged up the underside of his shaft, bathing him in saliva, and sending shivers through his spine. She mewed and cooed and moaned as she swirled and kissed the head, and stroked him with a tight grip. Clifford bucked and thrust forward, pushing his cock into her hand, and her hand deep into the base. Then she dropped her jaw and took him into her mouth. Clifford rolled his eyes and his head back as she sucked him down. "Oh God, yes," he sighed as his hard dick slid deep into her warm mouth. Her full lips sealed around his shaft, and her hot tongue bathed and swirled around his length, sending tingles of pleasure through his body. She pumped her mouth over his cock, first in short quick strokes and then moving into long sensuous plunges that pushed her nose into his base and his dick far down the back of her throat. Clifford shuddered, and his knees went weak, and he hung from the stall walls as she savagely worked his cock. "God damn, babe!" he managed. She hummed and moaned in response. "You're so fucking good." He risked his balance and support and dropped one hand to her head, and held on as she rolled her head back and forth, twisting it over his dick. "God, I want to fuck you." She pulled off him and stroked him. Her dark eyes pierced his soul again. "Cum in my mouth and I'll let you." "But I..." "I'll get you hard again," she promised. "Now cum in my mouth." She clamped down on his cock again and started sucking and licking ferociously, and Clifford just hung on the walls, struggling for stability, gasping for breath. He was mentally ticking off the number of details he was going to put in his letter to Penthouse. He had never fucked a strange woman before, never did it in an airport bathroom before, never cum twice in one session, and never cum in a girl's mouth before. But it was all happening, an epic erotic fantasy come true. He strengthened his legs and grabbed her head, and started fucking her skull, plunging deep into her mouth, grunting and groaning. She seemed to like the rough treatment, and she relaxed her grip on his cock and just let him fuck her mouth. And as he pushed his cock into her, she swirled and rubbed her hot tongue into his glandular cleft. "Oh God!" he panted. "God, take me. I can die now," he joked. "I'm gonna cum!" Adamantine grabbed his ass and pulled him forward, mashing her fat naked breasts into his thighs, and she sucked his cock hard. She relaxed her throat and let him plunge deep into her, and as she saw the shadows move behind him, she pulled back and held just his cock head in her lips and closed the back of her throat. Then she closed her eyes and waited. The man jerked, spasmed, and thrust one last time. His penis surged, and his hot, salty cream flooded her mouth. She held her breath and waited as the streams of hot sperm gushed from his cock, filling her mouth, and bathing her tongue and teeth. She heard him exhale slowly and satisfied, and then not inhale again. She pulled back carefully, keeping her lips sealed over the head of his cock, drawing out every last bit of his remaining essence, and licked the tip one last time as she looked back up into his face. She could see her partner pushing the knife up into his ribcage, and his hand over the man's mouth, silencing him. A sickly green energy wafted from her partner's hands, and her lover's eyes grew dim and distant as his life drained out of his body. His last remaining life left in her mouth, she reverently held it there as she stood up. And holding her breasts and hair against dangling, she bent over and spit it all into the toilet. "Well," she sighed as she stood back up and started pulling her dress back up over her heavy breasts. She was flushed and breathing heavily. "That was nice of you." "Pull your pants up," Tombspawn commanded his victim. "What do you mean?" he asked her. Adamantine pulled the straps over her shoulders and started fixing her breasts back into the cups. She watched her now-dead lover slowly pull the open trousers back up without fixing his underwear first. "Letting him have one last one before you took him." She filled her lungs with air, trying to calm her body down, and became acutely aware of the fact that she was the only one breathing in the room. She zipped up the back of her dress, flushed the toilet, and scooted past the two dead men. "You didn't do that with the others." Tombspawn focused his attention on the man he was converting. "That had nothing to do with niceness," he said, pulling the blade out of the man's chest. There was a spitting, hissing sound of air and blood escaping, and Tombspawn touched the wound with his finger, sealing it. "It is merely the best time to take one. The attentions are elsewhere." She checked herself in the mirror, ran the tap, filled a handful of water, and rinsed her mouth, spitting into the sink. Then she wiped her mouth and looked at herself again. Her face was flushed, and her body trembled. Her erect nipples rubbed into her dress. "Well, that's too bad. For a moment I thought you had some pity for the guy." Tombspawn pulled the man's wallet and ticket. "And why would a god want to pity someone?" Adamantine eyed him through the mirror, watching him as he thumbed through the wallet. "I don't know. Why would a god be interested in a gold card?" Her partner ignored her question, and after retrieving the man's PIN number, discovered the wedding band in the man's pocket. He held it to Adamantine. "Pity the innocent, but not the sinner." His voice grew dark. "When I say unto the wicked, O wicked man, thou shalt surely die; if thou dost not speak to warn the wicked from his way, that wicked man shall die in his iniquity; but his blood will I require at thine hand." He smiled. "Ezekiel, chapter thirty-three, verse eight." She took the ring. "Yeah, whatever. Does this mean you're proposing?" She examined the ring. "Hmm. Nice. Could get a couple hundred for this." She looked back up at her former lover and her partner. "You gonna put that one with the others?" "Interesting," Tombspawn said as he read the plane ticket. "What?" He showed her the ticket. "He is travelling to Los Angeles, California." She glanced at the newly created zombie, trying to gauge his blank face. There was no reaction, and she shrugged. "Not any more. So?" Tombspawn replaced the airline ticket into dead man's jacket. "We can use this one to send the decoy message." Adamantine dropped her jaw. "What? You're going to send him to California to send the message?" "Yes," he said simply. "But I thought Armory could just spoof the address! Send it from here with a fake source header and lead her out there." "And with this one, we will not need to do that." He turned to her. "We must assume that Earthguard checks all incoming emails for forged sources. If they discover one, it will arouse their suspicions. This message will genuinely come from the West coast, so Snow Angel will go there personally to check it out." "But he's dead!" Adamantine protested. "You can't put a dead man on a cross-country flight!" "It is fresh, and will be able to pass as merely sick or incapacitated for the time being." He turned to the zombie and gave its final instructions. "Take the flight to California, walk the streets, and wait for my signal. Do not go to any place that you know of from your life." He gave the zombie a cell phone. "When I call on this phone, hang up, and use the email function within it to send the stored message on this phone. Then walk out into traffic and die. Do you understand?" The zombie nodded. "Go." Tombspawn instructed. The dead man shuffled off, walked past his luggage, and headed out into the causeway. Adamantine watched her brief lover wistfully, her eyes on his ass, and then she noticed Tombspawn was scrutinizing her. An odd expression came over his face. "Are you feeling pity?" he asked her. She thought about it and sneered. "No. Why do you ask?" "It is a sign of weakness," he instructed her. "I need to know if your intentions are true. If your loyalties are unquestionable." He stepped closer to her, his coldness radiating from his soul. A shiver of fear ran through her spine as the dead man approached her. "What exactly are you feeling, Adamantine?" She tried to calm her breathing. "You don't know?" "Tell me." She glared at him. "When was the last time you had a beating heart?" "Six years ago. But what does that have to do with anything?" Adamantine leaned in and jabbed one finger into his chest. "It means you've forgotten what it's like to be alive." She breathed heavily at him, emphasizing the point. "That was the fourth guy I've made out with today, the fourth one you've taken just when things were getting interesting, so the thing is, I'm fucking horny. So when I go out there and get number five, you're going to leave him the fuck alone. You're going to let him walk out of here alive and breathing and with a smile on his face, or you let us go to a motel. Either way, I don't care. The thing is, I need to FINISH!" She stood for a moment, just staring at him and breathing heavily. "You got enough of what you need today. I have my needs too." And she stormed past him and out of the bathroom. ------- The table was old, worn, and wooden, and he sat at it staring into the bottom of the empty plastic soup bowl that was scarred with a lifetime of desperate scrapes and scratches. The metal spoon in his hand was chipped and dull, and he tapped it at the bottom of the empty bowl futilely in time to the sweet music. She was playing in the mission. Lynne sat at the far end of the room on a cheap folding chair, a six-string guitar in her lap. Her delicate fingers quickly moved across the fret and strings, plucking and strumming, expertly producing a relaxing melody. Her brother hovered behind her, playing a simple accompanying rhythm on a second guitar. The air was a mixture of sweat, dust, wood oil, smoke, and chicken stock wafting in from the kitchen area. Joey lifted his eyes up and across the walls, scanning the faded cartoonish artwork of bible stories and sculptures of Jesus. He scowled at the crucifixes. He knew they were there to bring a sense of comfort, but he couldn't get past the fact that they were decorative carvings of a man being tortured to death. The basement was filled with many people, mostly people like him. Homeless, broken, lost, lonely, hungry, injured, diseased. People in rags. People in filth. Snow Angel floated in one corner of the room laying her hands on the sick and injured as they approached her, a green light glowing from her heart and fingers as she touched them. Tricia sat in another corner with others who cried and talked to her, her camera focusing in on the faces of the needy. Sandy stood by the front door, watching and guarding. Her hands would close and flex into fists, and then would relax as she watched the streets. "May I sit with you?" came the familiar voice behind him. Joey looked up to see Sophia standing next to him looking cautious. He shrugged and nodded, and she eased herself into the seat beside him. "Sorry for yelling at you," he said. "Thank you. It's okay. I'm sorry for pushing you." He shrugged again. "It's all right. I know you're just trying to help me." He dropped his spoon on the table. "I just don't always want help. There's usually a price." "I understand." She looked around the mission. "But that's why you're here, aren't you?" He sighed. "I hate asking for help, but sometimes..." His stomach growled loudly, and he rubbed it. "Sometimes there's no choice." She leaned in on one hand and studied him. "So, how's life? Did I miss anything important recently?" He shrugged again. "Not really." "So where are we?" "Someplace to get food, if you're willing to..." Joey looked up as the door opened, and he saw Sarah enter. She looked very out of place in here. Too well-dressed. Too rich. Too clean. Too delicate. She clung to her notebook as she scanned the room, and when she saw Joey, her eyes and face lit up with happiness. Sophia noticed, her eyes widening in surprise as the ghostly girl skipped literally through the crowd to reach them, fading through people and tables as if she were made of mist. She sat opposite Joey and leaned into him, scrunching her nose at him. "Hey, Mister Salty!" she said. He smiled back at her. "Hi Marshmallow." She leaned in and gave him a quick but sensuous kiss. Sophia raised an eyebrow. "Really?" she asked. "Nothing interesting?" Joey blushed. "Well, we may have hooked up." Sarah flipped her long rainbow-streaked hair back. "Don't be so modest, Joey." She leaned in to Sophia. "We totally did it," she boasted. "Well, almost did it. A few times." She caressed his hand. "But he only went as far as I really wanted to go, and he was a perfect gentleman." Sophia cocked her head and studied them. "Interesting. Good for you." She watched their hands as Sarah caressed his fingers. Her fingers would pass through his as they touched each other. Sophia frowned. "This isn't metaphorical," she mumbled to herself. "Huh?" Joey asked. Sophia just gave him a smile. "I'm very proud of you, but I would like to check something." She reached one hand up to Joey's face. "May I?" "May you ... what?" "I just need to check. Can you show me what happened?" Joey nodded, and a surge of blue sparks flowed from her hand. She touched him gently. The images erupted, pushing away the mission and the homeless and the music and his friends far into the background, and filling his dreamscape. A dark room filled with floating words of despair. Sarah dancing in a glowing circle of glyphs. Two teenagers naked and embracing on a bed. Pencil and pen touching tips in a bright classroom. Fingers passing through fingers. A kiss and the heads merge. Laughing over sandwiches. Silky glowing fabric flowing over a girl's body. Her crying, and her head passing through his fingers. A large Asian boy lunges at her, scaring her, and she screams, drops her clothes through her body, and runs through the wall. It happens again in the apartment. An argument. Fighting. A spell is cast. Confessions. Reconciliation. "Look at me. Look at me." Love making. A panic as she is covered in his emissions, and she stands over a towel and fades, the blobs fall through her. She walks out of a shower and the water falls through her body. Sophia pulled her hand back, and the mission returned. "That's a real ability," she whispered. Sarah smiled proudly as she held his hand, and Sophia gave them both a warm smile in return. "I'm very proud of you. So is this serious?" They answered simultaneously. "No," said Joey. "Yes," said Sarah. He looked at her quizzically. "I thought you liked Jeff," he asked. "I don't think he really wants me," Sarah responded. "It took him forever for him to ask me out, and he only did it because you pushed him to." "Well, he's a damn fool if he doesn't want you. You're amazing." She blushed. "Any guy would be lucky to have you. I think you need to give him a chance. I think he's just scared." He nodded his head in the direction of Jeff on the stage. "Go talk to him. Let him see how wonderful you really are. He'll want you then." Sarah stood up, leaned down, and kissed Joey on the nose. "I think there's someone else he really wants," she whispered knowingly, and then with a cute goodbye wave to Sophia, she skipped across the room to Jeff and started flirting with him. Joey watched her with puzzlement, and Sophia leaned her head on one hand with her elbow on the table watching them both. "Very interesting," she said. "You were right about her," Joey said, turning to Sophia. "A treasure of unimaginable riches. She was nothing like I was expecting." "Every woman is," Sophia said. "Yeah." He looked back at Sarah. "Of course now I'm thinking ... Maybe I did the wrong thing, letting her go." "Why so?" Joey glanced over at Lynne as she played solo on the stage. He sighed. "I um ... I'm not sure about Lynne anymore." She frowned. "What's wrong?" He turned to her. "Can I ask you something?" He leaned in close to her. "Why do people pray?" "Pray?" she responded, her eyebrows jumping in surprise. "Why do you ask?" "I saw her praying," he said, his face darkening. "I didn't like it." Sophia thought about it, and watched the girl on guitar for a moment. "Well," she started. "I suppose people pray for a lot of reasons. Maybe she's worried about something. Maybe she's scared. Maybe she's just confused." She paused. "People usually pray to make themselves feel good." "But prayer doesn't make you feel good," Joey said. She shrugged. "Well, maybe for her it does..." He shook his head. "No. I've tried it. Prayer doesn't make you feel good. Food makes you feel good." She squinted at him. He continued, explaining. "You see, I used to pray. I used to pray a lot. See, when I would get hungry, I would pray for food. And when I was cold, I'd pray to get warm, or for some new clothes, or something to burn. And when I got sick I would pray to feel better. But it never worked. I would just stay hungry or cold or sick until I did something about it, or someone else helped me. And when I was praying, when I was believing in God, I would always think things like 'Oh, thank you, God, for leaving this half-eaten rotten apple out where I could find it.' But after awhile I realized that praying didn't really make things better. I was still eating out of the trash, still scrounging or stealing clothes. I wasn't getting more food, or better food. I was just giving God credit for anything good that happened. I couldn't tell the difference between God helping me lousily and God not helping me but just claiming He did." She watched him, and Joey just dropped his eyes and stared at the empty bowl. "They taught me how to pray here. You have to do it in order to get soup." He paused. "They are good people here. They want to be good, you can tell. But they're so..." He hesitated. "They believe so strongly that everything good comes from God, so I think they don't believe anything good ever comes from people. It's like, they have so much faith in their god that they lost faith in themselves, or anyone else around them." "Is that what you need?" Sophia asked. Joey saw in the background Annie walking out of the kitchen, serving soup to the homeless from a large pot. "Someone who has faith in you?" He nodded. "Someone who believes in me." He turned his attention to Lynne as she played the guitar, her mind and body focused on the task. "I'm worried that she's that type, you know? Someone who believes in God so much she won't believe in me. Or herself." "How often have you seen her pray?" Sophia asked. He shrugged. "Just once." "For how long?" "I don't know. I only watched her for a few seconds." "So it was just a glimpse?" He nodded. Sophia smiled. "I don't think you have enough to judge her on this. You don't know what she is going through. Give her a chance." "Yeah, but what if she's..." "Faith is very private. It is very different for every person. You have your understanding of faith, and she has hers. You don't know anything about what she believes. But what she does believe is part of her value. Remember, the only thing you really know about her is that she's a treasure of unimaginable riches. I think it's best that you explore her a bit before making a judgment." Joey thought about it and nodded. "I guess so. But I don't understand it. I mean, I stopped praying because I realized nobody was listening." He frowned. "Do you ever pray?" Sophia's eyes darkened. "I did once. Not any more." "Why not?" She paused. "Because I found out that something WAS listening." As he sat pondering this, Annie approached with the pot of soup. "Hungry, bubbala?" Joey brightened as he saw her. "Yes." "What would you like?" He grinned. "Something warm and Asian." Sophia watched with curiosity as Annie smiled brightly in response, and spooned out a ladle full of liquid from the pot. She poured it into his bowl, and walked off to another table. They both looked into the bowl and frowned. The soup was so thin and clear, it was practically a bowl of hot water. Joey tasted the thin soup, sneered, and pushed it away. Lights and sound faded, and the room started to grow dark. Sophia watched him carefully as the mission started to evaporate around them. The dream was ending. "I used to get what I needed here," he said, before it faded out. ------- "Cross Annie off the list." Renée perked up as Sophia said that. "You're awake," she said as she put her laptop aside. Sophia carefully rolled on the bed and pushed herself up, and her assistant came to her, helping her into a sitting position. "What's wrong with Annie?" she asked. "He doesn't think she's giving him what he needs. Which is terrible. She would have been perfect for us. Water." She rubbed her eyes. "That's too bad. I like her." Renée ran to the bathroom and filled a water glass. "So now what?" "Move Sarah up three notches, and then cross her off the list." "Sarah? Who's that? The mage?" "Yeah. Our boy's been busy." Renée gave her the glass of water, and Sophia sipped it. "Apparently he hooked up with her and things got pretty heavy." "So that's good, right? He's found the one." Sophia shook her head. "They broke it off. Apparently she's got the hots for Jeff." She thought about it. "But I don't think it'll work out for them." "Why not?" "Sarah was expressing some doubts about Jeff wanting her." Renée frowned. "I thought you were riding Joey." "I was. He had her say it. So he's thinking it, but not letting himself know." She drank some more water. "I may have to visit Sarah to get the whole picture, but I hate to. I can never figure out mage dreams." "What about Jeff? He's the one in question. You can try riding him again." Sophia shook her head vigorously. "Hell no. I've still got a headache from the last time I tried breaking into that ego. He's impervious." "So now what? Lynne still on the table?" She nodded. "He was having some issue with her religious beliefs, but I talked him into focusing past that. Despite all our problems with her, she's our girl." "But have they hooked up yet?" "No. She's still a distant beauty image. They haven't even talked yet." Renée sighed for a moment. "No. This is ridiculous! Why focus on Lynne? I don't trust her. I don't trust that whole family." She brandished a folder at her partner. "She doesn't add up. Born in a small town in Kentucky, but no birth announcement for her or her brother. No vaccination records. No employment records or school records for her mother. No family history. No clue who their father is. No bank accounts. No email accounts until a year ago. They moved eight times in six years. I can't verify anything about her. It's like the whole family doesn't exist. And you can't do anything with her either. You can't get into her dreams because she never sleeps. He's at least gotten somewhere with Sarah. What's wrong with her? Doesn't he like her?" Sophia nodded. "Yes, he does. Very much." "And does she like him?" "Yes, I believe so." "Are they compatible? I mean, have they... ?" She gestured. "Apparently a couple times already." "So? Push Sarah!" Sophia shook her head and finished her water. "We can't use her. She's got this ability. She fades, becomes ghost-like. Completely immune to physical harm." "So?" "So how does Sarah get killed?" Renée dropped her eyes, sighed, and walked across the room in disgust. She rubbed her hands together, as if cleaning the blood off them. "Sorry for reminding you," Sophia said. "Is there ANY other way?" Renée asked. "I mean, whoever it's going to be, she's got her whole life ahead of her." Sophia shook her head. "No, and I wish there were another way. But in order for the rest of us to live, Lynne Sullivan has to die." ------- Chapter 22: Promises and Lost Relations Symbols flared from the center of the hypersigil, and a new glowing line snaked from the nexus to the duality glyph. Lady Zamora extended a single finger and followed the fiery tendril through the intersecting patterns, interpreting the design. "He cleaves the afterworlds," she murmured to herself. "Splitting Heaven and Hell. The two Nephilim confront him. Purgatory calls." She counted the ticks on the line, picked up her phone, and dialed. "My lady," Tombspawn's cold voice answered. "What news do you bring?" "The epiphany draws near," she reported. "And will reach the apex on Sunday. Will you be ready for him then?" She heard Tombspawn relay a question to someone else. "Will the weapon be ready by Sunday?" his muffled voice asked. There was an even quieter response invoking the word "testing." He returned to the phone. "It is my intention," he answered. "But I may need you to hold him until Monday." "As I agreed, I shall hold his insight until you are ready for him." "Thank you my lady." "But know that I will not refund your money if he dies this weekend." There was a pause. "Is he in danger?" he asked. "He confronts an angel and a demon in pursuit of the next transformation. They may try to kill him. He may try to kill them." "I see. What are his chances?" "That is not for me to know. That is for him to decide. I can only tell you the path, not how far he will travel upon it." "Is there anything you can do to help him?" "If I interfere, the path is broken." He paused. "So we can only wait to hear what happens?" "Do not worry. He has been given the tools he needs by his guardians. He should succeed." "So you believe he will be able to kill this angel and demon?" Lady Zamora watched the glowing hypersigil on her table. "Either way, if he kills one or one kills him, the path is destroyed. I will keep you informed." And she hung up. Tombspawn closed the phone and thought. "The time draws near," he announced to the others. Armory smiled, and continued working on the weapon. Adamantine lifted her leg back onto the workbench and picked up the belt-sander. "Can I continue?" she asked. "If you wish." She turned on the belt-sander and ran it over her leg. And as the screeching, ripping sandpaper worked on the nearly invulnerable hairs, Tombspawn walked to a table, extracted a small plastic bag, and then stood before a mirror. Ada watched him curiously as he opened the bag and poured the meager contents into his hand. She recognized the bag. It was the one that originally contained the blood-caked cell phone. The small chips of Joey Harper's dried blood fell into his hand, and he lifted his hand upward. She turned off the belt-sander. "What are you doing?" she asked. He tipped his head backwards and dropped his jaw open. Then he poured the dried blood into his mouth. Muscle sat in the far corner, normally silent, but he stirred and growled as the hissing sound emerged from his master. A sickly green energy wafted from Tombspawn's body, drifting off his head and dripping down his arms. Cracking, shifting sounds emerged from his body. "He will be leaving his guardians soon," Tombspawn said. He lowered his head and turned towards Adamantine. She watched in a combination of fascination and horror as she saw his nose straightening and shifting, and his cheekbones lifting. "He will need someone to go to." His face changed and shifted, becoming more and more like someone she knew. ------- Thursday morning. Giggles. Whispers. Glances of curiosity and outright stares of pure voyeurism. As Joey stood at his locker organizing his books for the day, he could just feel everyone's eyes on him. The news had broken about the double date, and of Jeff finally asking Sarah out. Now it was his turn, and every other kid in the school knew about it, and was watching him. Oh sure, they would quickly avert their eyes or give him awkward grins when he looked around, but he could feel their eyes constantly on him. The hairs on the back of his head would just bristle when they watched him. Down the hallway, he could see Sarah and Jeff as they talked and joked with each other. Sarah just beamed with delight in Jeff's presence, but Jeff didn't appear to match her enthusiasm. His face would switch between smiles and frowns of concern. He seemed to alternate between bouts of happiness and confusion. Simon came up to Joey's side and leaned on his crutches. "Jeff looks a little..." He paused as he searched for the best word. "Uncertain," he settled on. "Idiot," he muttered under his breath. Joey shrugged. "Give him some time. This is new for him." He looked across the hallway towards the two, and his eyes met with Jeff's. Jeff gave him a weak smile and turned his attention back to Sarah and whatever it was she was saying to him. "He's not used to not being around his sister. This is good for him." "Speaking of, where is she?" Simon asked. He scanned around looking for Lynne. The hallway was filled with kids, all bustling and chatting when they weren't directly staring at him. Kaelyn, Raquel, and Willow stood in one group that had been eying him a lot. The cat-girl's eyes narrowed on him hungrily and her tail twitched as he saw her. Her long ears swiveled towards him, and he quickly averted his eyes and looked in another direction. "No idea," he concluded. "She must still be in the dorms." Simon raised his eyebrows. "Well, that's a first, one coming down without the other. So! Everyone else is wondering, so I'll ask. You gonna ask her out today?" Joey took a deep breath, and he felt a cold shiver run down his spine. He could feel the eyes of several dozen people watching him, and he often wondered if he had developed from years of hiding on the streets some special sixth sense for knowing if someone was looking at him. So just being in the hallway with so many girls staring him, waiting for his next move, was unnerving. "I ... I don't know now." "What do you mean?" Joey sighed. "Well, you know I wanted to yesterday, but then when I saw her and she was ... you know ... It just kind of freaked me out." "You having second thoughts?" He shrugged. "Kinda." Simon sighed. "Look. Don't let that bother you. It's nothing. And she knows you're gonna ask her, so you might as well do it. If you don't, you'll just insult her." Joey nodded. "Yeah." "So you gonna ask her out?" Joey inhaled. I..." he started, but that's as far as he got. His instincts screamed, like he was being hunted. He quickly turned and saw Kaelyn, the Australian cat-girl approaching him. Actually, she wasn't so much approaching him as stalking him. Her shoulders rolled in tight backward circles with each step, twisting her upthrust chest with each sensuous stride. Her long tail swished and snaked behind her, whipped about by her curvy hips. But her eyes bored straight into him. Joey's spine tingled. "Ey' mate," she said as she reached him. She leaned on one wide hip and flipped her long dark hair back with a swish of her tail. He swallowed, and Simon took a cautious step back, either to avoid contact with a wild animal or to get a better look at her fine ass. Or both. "Oh. Hi Kaelyn," Joey managed. "'Sup?" She swiveled her head and torso around, taking in the scene, which gave him a moment to check out her body. Tight muscles and tendons wrapped her slender, flexible frame. Long white-tipped bluish-black hair whipped about, and rounded breasts jiggled. She returned to scrutinizing him. "So. I hear you're having second thoughts about Lynne?" Joey blinked. "Um ... What?" "Good ears," she explained, pointing to them. He glanced at her large furry cat-ears. "Oh. Well, maybe. I don't..." She shifted on her hips. "So I've still got a chance?" Joey frowned and squinted at the girl. "A chance? For what?" She pounced him. No warning, she literally pounced him, pushing both hands into his chest and slamming him against the lockers. Kids yelped and jumped back in shock as he hit the metal doors. She knocked the breath out of him, and as Joey struggled to keep his balance, Kaelyn pressed her full, scrumptious body up against his, and slipped her hands up around his head. He could feel her claws dig into his scalp. Her legs spread wide as she straddled one thigh, and her tail whipped around the other leg. "Kaelyn! What are you doing?" he protested. She didn't answer at first. She just started purring, loudly, straight into his body. He could feel the deep thrumming vibrations coming through her warm, pert breasts and into his chest. And as jaws dropped and lungs gasped all around them, she snuggled up to him, undulating and stretching her tight body against his. "I was thinking you and I call in sick and go party somewhere private," she whispered, and she batted her big beautiful gold eyes at him, and her white-capped ears swiveled open towards him. As Joey squirmed under her full-frontal assault, she dropped one hand down to his butt and gave him a healthy squeeze on one cheek, causing him to jump. "Why don't you show me what it is you did to pull Sarah out of her shell? Maybe you could pull me out of mine?" The gasps around him turned to giggles. Everyone in the hallway was watching them now, and everyone was enjoying the show. Somebody in the crowd let out a "Go Joey!" which solicited a round of chuckles. Joey grabbed her hands and tried pulling them away, and when that didn't work he tried pushing her back off him, but couldn't really budge her one way or the other. Despite her short size, Kaelyn was much stronger and heavier than him. He remembered something he heard about her increased bone and muscle density that explained the strength, but those thoughts were quickly pushed out of his head by his awakening libido. Her warm body and soft breasts rubbed into his chest, and she openly rocked her hot groin into his thigh. Then she grinned at him, which scared the shit out of him. Her fangs were thin and pointed, and probably sharper than the claws which were currently poking into his butt cheek. "Um..." He gave Simon a quick glance, pleading for help. "Simon? Help?" Simon was grinning, obviously enjoying Joey's predicament. "Um ... Bad kitty? Down?" he said half-heartedly. "Not the kind of help I was looking for!" He returned his attention to the hybrid feline who was currently purring and pawing him and wiping her face on his chest, and he tried once again to pry her fingers loose from his body. "Look, um Kaelyn. I ... Wow, you're strong. Listen, I'm flattered, and I'm sure you're a great girl and I'm sure it'll be fun and all..." "Bloody fun!" she said proudly. "Yeah, that's the thing I'm really worried about," Joey said, trying to squirm free and get some distance from her claws and fangs, and failing miserably at both, much to everyone else's amusement. He tried pushing the girl off him. "Kaelynn, look. Thanks, but I'm not YEEOOW!" He yelped because her tail had slipped up between his legs and nearly gave him a prostate exam. He bucked his hips towards her, trying to avoid her probing appendage. The crowd was now laughing, and Joey gave Jeff a begging stare. "Can somebody help me?" "Do what?" Jeff said, enjoying the sight. Raquel sighed and stepped forward. She struck an attitude pose. "GIRL! Whatchu doin' humping that white boy in the halls like that? That's nasty!" The cat-girl turned and glared at her friend. Her throat rumbled in a low territorial growl. "Oh, don't chu give me that, Toonces," Raquel scolded back. "You know you broke the rules," "Bugger off, bitch!" Kaelyn screeched. Raquel was unmoved, and she shifted on her hips and reached for her bag. "Oh, don't chu go there!. You asked for it now," she said, and she reached into her bag and pulled out a gun. Joey went cold. And for one brief tenth of a second, his already adrenaline-fueled imagination suddenly went into overdrive. "A GUN! WHY THE HELL DID SHE BRING A GUN TO SCHOOL? HOW DID SHE GET IT IN HERE? WHY IS SHE POINTING IT AT ME? I'M NOT DOING ANYTHING! HELP!" He nearly shrieked in terror. It was only after all of these thoughts managed to push all the way through his brain, down his spine, and into his bladder that he remembered that guns aren't made of transparent orange plastic, nor do they have water sloshing around inside them. Raquel pumped the trigger. "MREEOOWW!" Kaelyn leaped off of Joey in a desperate attempt to avoid the spraying water, and as the entire hallway erupted in shrieking laughter, the cat-girl launched herself up on top of the lockers and bounded across them. She curled, turned, and snarled at Raquel, and then started licking her arm, cleaning the water off. Raquel lifted the squirt gun and held it pointed at the ceiling, doing her best Cleopatra Jones victory pose. She smirked and called out to the cat-girl. "That's right, girl! Back off! And don't let me catch you vulching him from up there either! I WILL put you in the Cone of Shame!" And as the entire hallway erupted into applause and laughter, she batted them all away. "Yeah, yeah. Show's over! Nothing to see here. Move on." She strode over to Joey. "You okay?" she asked him with genuine concern. Joey rubbed his thigh from where Kaelyn pushed her entire body-weight on when leaping from him. "Yeah. Ow! Thanks. I think she nearly broke my leg there." "Seriously?" He tested his leg. "I'm fine, but I'm going to have a hell of a bruise." Raquel flipped the water pistol around and handed it to him. "Here. You better keep this with you. Lock and load. She may be on you again." "Why?" he said, taking the water pistol. "Is she in heat or something?" "Nah. If she were she'd be howlin' and tearin' up the walls. No, she just be protectin' her interests." Raquel glared at Kaelyn. Joey glanced back at the cat-girl and then back at Raquel. Raquel's patchwork face always startled him. "What do you mean, her interests? Did she like, claim me?" Raquel shrugged. "Maybe. Don't know. All I know is she's just got ten bucks on Halloween." Joey frowned in bafflement for a moment and looked around. He caught a glimpse of Sarah and remembered her telling him that the girls were placing bets on when he would ask Lynne out. It all then made sense to him. "Oh," he said. "Thanks." She shrugged again. "Don't mention it." She scowled at him. "Now you just go do what you think you have to do," she said critically, and she strode off. Joey frowned and watched her as Raquel walked away. "What do you suppose she meant by that?" he asked Simon. He turned to his friend, but Simon was still giggling at him. "Dude! You should have seen your face! She was all over you, and you were all ... Ahh, and Ugh, and Err!" "And you just stood there! Some wingman you are!" He pocketed the squirt gun. "Hey! The wingman's job is to get the girl ON you, not off you. And besides, she's over two hundred pounds and she has claws. What was I supposed to do?" As Joey shook his head and rubbed his thigh, Sarah came up, dragging Jeff with her. "You okay?" she asked. "Yeah. Do you know any healing spells?" "No, but I can get you some aspirin. You need some?" He tested his leg. "I think I'll be okay." Simon was still snickering, and Sarah gave him a dirty look, and then a swat on the arm. "Stop giggling at him! He could have been hurt!" And as Simon shamefully tried to contain himself, she turned to Jeff. "And you! Why didn't you help him?" "Me?" Jeff asked. "Yeah! She's not too heavy for you. You could have lifted her off him." Jeff suddenly found himself being stared at very critically by three of his friends, and he faltered for a moment, his eyes darting back and forth among them all. "I can't do that!" he blurted. Sarah glared at him. "Yes you can! I've seen what you can do." "Yeah, Jeff," Joey said. "Why did you just stand there?" Jeff shifted on his legs. "Okay, yeah. I could have lifted her, but that would have just made things worse." They didn't appear immediately convinced, so he continued. "Look, you all don't have TK. You don't know what it does to people when they're suddenly lifted by something they can't see. They panic. They..." He gestured, clawing the air with his hands. "I've seen it a lot. They grab onto whatever they can reach and hold on to it as hard as they can. It's not conscious, it's instinctive." He gave Joey a serious look. "She had her claws in you, and the only thing holding her back from hurting you was her own calmness. If I made her panic, she would have just ripped you open without thinking about it." Joey gave that a moment of imagination, and shuddered. "Good call," he said. He saw Kaelyn on top of the lockers, and she winked at him. Jeff frowned. "Is there something going on between you two that I need to know about?" he asked. Joey shook his head, shuddering again. "No. She's just going to lose the bet if I ask Lynne out before Halloween." Jeff gaped. "There are bets?" He turned to Sarah for confirmation. "Did you know about this?" She shrugged and nodded. "Are you in on this bet?" "Not any more," Sarah said. "I lost weeks ago." As Jeff stood there, stunned and processing this, Sarah poked Joey in the chest. "So I think you should take this as a sign. You need to ask her out before some other girl puts the moves on you." Simon spoke up. "I'll run defence for you. I'll just need two hundred dollars in small bills and a bag of catnip." "You better be joking," Sarah said to Simon. "She will eat you alive." "What a way to go!" Simon replied, smiling. "You made a BET?" Jeff said again to Sarah, still stuck on the idea. Sarah gave Jeff a double-take. "We're way past that. Catch up with us." She turned to Joey. "So. Today is the day. As soon as you see her, you ask her out, okay?" She looked back at Jeff. "Where is your sister anyway?" Jeff blinked in confusion. "I um..." Sarah groaned. "Never mind. I'll find her." And she strode off down the hallway. As the three boys watched the albino girl strut down the hall, Joey saw Jeff's puzzled face. "Dude," Joey said to the big guy. "You know she really likes you for your body. And I mean that in the worst possible way." "Huh?" Jeff asked. Simon slapped him on the back. "Exactly." As Sarah strode down the hallway, Jeff watched her, stammering to himself. "I um ... Oh god. I..." Joey eyed his friend. He could see the A.D.D. confusion flaring in him. "You okay, man?" He appeared to be panicking. The big musician snapped his head back and forth between Joey and Sarah. "Yeah I..." But that was as far as he got when Joey saw the doorway to the far stairwell open, and Lynne cautiously emerged. Sarah was only halfway down the hall, and when she saw Lynne she stopped and gestured to Joey. "Now!" she mouthed at him. Chills ran down Joey's back as he saw Lynne, and it didn't take long for the others in the hall to notice her too. Conversations dropped in expectations, and eyes watched. Lynne wasn't walking down the hall. She simply waited at the far end next to the door, holding her hands clasped together. Her dark eyes met his from the distance, and she shyly smiled at him. Joey knew in an instant what was happening. She was waiting for him. Simon had noticed, and he turned to Joey. "You need a wingman?" It was odd, Joey realized. It was the moment he was dreading, the moment for him to ask Lynne out, and it was the worst possible situation. It was in front of everyone. There would be no privacy; half of the school was watching him. His heart pounded hard in his chest in terror, and his mouth went dry, and yet for the first time he felt an odd calmness from the situation. There was a lightness in his body, a drawing sensation, as if the world centered on her, as if he could simply lift his feet from the ground and fall, and he would land at her feet. "No," he answered his friend. "I think I've got this." He started to move, but Simon stopped him. "Give me the gun, and I'll keep you covered," he said gravely. Joey frowned, and remembered the squirt-gun in his pocket. He handed it to Simon, and he started walking towards her. He passed the girls and boys in the school, all of them watching him earnestly. He could hear whispers and gasps, and the occasional word of encouragement from an onlooker or a squeal of excitement from someone holding in their breath with anticipation. But his eyes were locked on her. They never left her. Lynne's dark eyes pierced into him from the distance, her long brown hair enraptured him, and her pink lips curled into a slight smile. He passed Sarah who gave him a simple "Go to her, Joey," as he walked by. Lynne's beauty enchanted him, far more than the first time when he had met her back in the summer. She was irresistible, stunning, and gorgeous. Her dark brown eyes mesmerized him, her creamy skin tantalized him. Her long wavy chocolate brown hair spilled over her soft shoulders and shined in the light. She wore a tight white T-shirt that stretched snugly over her full breasts, emphasizing them, and a loose blue jeans jacket over that. He walked without thinking, just following his body towards her. He reached her. "Hi." She gave him a shy but warm smile. "Hi" she said back softly. It was odd, because even though there was a part of his mind that just wanted to run screaming in terror, he felt rooted in front of her, like he had belonged there all of his life. The peculiar calmness in his body fought against the shivers in his spine and stomach, and against his heart which was now hammering in his chest. "I um..." he started. She raised an eyebrow expectantly. "Okay, so like ... I wanted to um ... ask you..." "Yes," she answered. "I mean..." He swallowed and shook. He could smell her sweet scent and feel her body heat so close to him. "I wanted to talk to you. But..." She frowned, and he glanced back down the hallway. There were only about thirty kids watching in rapt attention as he tried to ask Lynne out. He turned back to her. "I wanted to talk to you, but in private?" Lynne paused on this, gave an understanding nod, and glanced at all of the kids in the hall watching them. She rolled her tongue in her cheek as she considered them. "I don't think..." she said carefully, returning her gaze to him, "that is at all possible in this school." He thought about it, and glanced at the door to the stairwell, realizing that all they had to do was walk through that door and they would have some measure of privacy, and some intimacy. All he had to do was open that door and guide her through, and they would be cut off from all of the prying eyes and listening ears. And he wanted to go there, but as he looked at it, the door just seemed to repel him. He didn't think it was right, didn't want to take the few extra steps it would take to get some seclusion. She was right. Privacy in this school was not an option. Even the so-called privacy rooms really didn't offer privacy. Well, actually they did, he realized, but he didn't want to contradict her. She watched him, waiting, and he nodded in agreement. "Yeah. You're right," he said. "So you wanted to ask me something?" she prompted him. Her beautiful eyes stared deep into him. "Yeah. Um ... So here goes." He swallowed to clear his throat. "Lynne?" "Yes," she answered. "Um ... I was wondering if you..." "Yes," she answered. "I mean, if you would like to, um..." "Yes," she answered. " ... like to, um..." "Yes." Joey stopped, and he just stared at her for a moment. He watched her blinking, and he finally realized what it was that she had been saying. He chewed on his lip, and spoke. "Okay, so like I'm really nervous right now, and, um..." Her face scrunched up in amusement as he spoke. " ... and it's like..." Deep breath. "I'm going to ask you out, but I can't do that if you keep agreeing to go out with me before I finish." Lynne bit both of her lips hard suppressing the urge to break out in laughter, and way in the background he heard Jeff let out a snort of laughter, which triggered a lot of other kids to chuckle as well. And in that moment the entire situation had changed. The extreme nervousness was still there, but now it was just ridiculous, blanketed by a thick layer of silliness. There was no point to the nervousness anymore. It was out in the open now. He was nervous, and so was she. He wanted her, and she wanted him, and all that was left to get through was the awkwardness of the situation. "Okay. Sorry," she said, straining, gritting her teeth, and trying to contain herself. Several of the nearby kids giggled a little loudly at that. "I mean I have to get through this," Joey added, trying to not break either. "It's like a rite of passage now." Her face grimaced almost in pain with the strain of holding back the hilarity, and her dark eyes just sparkled with delight as she tried to keep control. She slapped both hands over her mouth, physically holding back the laughter, and nodded in agreement. Seeing her enjoying this moment so much warmed his heart. Every time he managed to make her smile it delighted him, and now he was doing it again, and he loved it. She just stood there and struggled, trying to keep a straight face. "Okay," she said, straining, and nodding her head. "I mean, I appreciate you trying to help me, but this needs really to be difficult. I think you're worth all the extra stress." She nodded quickly, snorted once, and bit her lip to keep from breaking down. "Thank you," she managed to squeak out. She dropped her hands, bounced on her toes nervously, and took a deep breath to keep herself calm. Two of those actions did things to her large breasts which did not help Joey in the least. "Please, go on," she succeeded in saying. "Okay." He took a deep breath, not so much trying to get rid of the nervousness, but just to clear away any desire to burst into laughter. "Here goes." He glanced back at the crowd of smiling faces watching them, which did not help him. There were giggles and snickers and girls clenching their fists in eagerness. "I just wish we didn't have an audience," he added. She shook her head. Her eyes were bright with joy, and she smiled brilliantly at him. "I don't mind audiences," she half-said, half laughed. "I like being in the show." Joey looked back into her beautiful eyes again, and it was in this moment that he sensed The Change, the transformation that usually came with the first kiss, the moment when a woman changed from fantasy to reality. He realized that up until this point, Lynne was simply a physical beauty, a stunningly pretty girl that caught his attention and stirred his desires and fueled his fantasies, but she was still mostly a dream to him, and now she was so much more. He was scratching through the surface. He could see her reality, could see into her character. He could see her intelligence and silliness shining out, her passions, and her fearlessness as a performer calling to the crowd and strengthening his resolve. He could see that she was trying to help him in his nervousness, and that she was just as scared, and that she wanted this just as much as he did. He was beginning to see the treasure of unimaginable riches locked inside of her, and he could not wait to discover more. He didn't know where the idea came from. It just popped into his head, or maybe he thought of it along the way down. Maybe it was Tricia telling him to flaunt what you've got, or Annie telling him to stand his ground. Maybe it was from Sandy. "To hell with fear, to hell with uncertainty." Or maybe it was Snow Angel's simple promise she made to him when he was in the hospital with her. "You're going to be all right." But wherever the idea came from, he knew why he was doing it. He was doing it for her. He was doing it for the girl who liked to be on stage, doing it to show his nervousness who was boss. It is part of the journey of love to be willing to march right past embarrassment and straight into humiliation for the love of someone. He figured as long as they were in a show, he might as well make it a good one. Joey dropped down on one knee in front of her and took her hands in his. The resulting screaming and applause from the hallway full of kids erupted so loudly, she couldn't even hear him when Joey finally asked Lynne out on a date. Nobody could hear him. He couldn't even hear his own voice. But it didn't matter. What mattered was he asked her. What mattered is, when he asked her, she was beaming brightly, basking in the attention of the show, reveling in the fact that Joey was willing to make a total ass of himself in front of the entire school to win her, and she burst into a radiant smile and laughed in that manner that lifted and filled his heart with joy, and she nodded her head eagerly to answer. He couldn't hear her, but he could see her lips form that magic word; "Yes." It was a new day, a new time. The day when it became official that Joey Harper and Lynne Sullivan were dating. And as he knelt in front of her and held her hands, their fingers ("Accept me") squeezing together, the crowd of kids cheered and applauded. Voices rang out, a chorus of calls of encouragement and congratulations battled each other for attention. "Way to go, Joey!' "Go Lynne!" "Aww that's so cute!" Backs were slapped and shoulders hugged. But one voice rang out loud and true, louder than all the others, and it prompted an even larger amount of laughter and applause. "PAY UP, PURINA!" ------- When Annie originally asked Emily for her last name, she only got the cryptic answer "Det er en hemmelightet!" "Det er en hemmelightet!" turned out to mean "It's a secret" in Norwegian, one that Snow Angel simply refused to reveal. That was no matter to Annie. She simply asked Multiplex at EarthGuard HQ, and he gave her Emily's last name. Actually, after trying to spell it over the phone a couple times, he had to email it to her. Armed with her full name finally, Annie searched genealogy records for existing family members who might be good donors for Allogeneic Stem Cell Transplantation. At first she thought the hardest part would be figuring out how to type a slashed-O "Ø" and a ringed-A "Å" on her keyboard. But that turned out to be not too hard. The hardest part actually turned out to be trying to figure out how to pronounce Emily's last name correctly, a task which Annie eventually abandoned when she got no help from her. Genealogy turned out to be much easier if one didn't have to read anything out loud. Emily's mother, Ingrid, passed away in 1927, two years after Hannah ran away from home. Emily never knew where her sister went. Emily's sister, Hannah Møk-jål-however-the-fuck-it-is-pronounced, built a new life in Boston, as far from Montana as possible, and married Everett Randall in 1937. She had a baby girl Jensina in 1940. Jensina Randall married Darrel Nieves, divorced him, married Herschel Velez, divorced him, married Lon Garrison, widowed suspiciously, and then settled with Lawrence Finch, the sturdiest of the bunch. In 1966 she gave birth to Petra. Annie was not entirely sure who the father was. Timing suggested either Lawrence or Lon, but when looking at the pictures, she decided that cleft in the chin looked a lot like husband number one's. Petra married Thomas McKnight in 1987 at the tender young age of 22, and had two children. Her son Harry unfortunately died in a motorcycle accident when he was 18. But her daughter Crystal, now 20, was alive and healthy, and living fairly close to them as a student in the University of Maryland. Which was where they were right now, in College Park, Maryland. Annie parked her van in a guest spot of an apartment complex and turned to Emily. "So? Excited?" Emily was startled out of her thoughts. "Hmm?" "You're going to meet your great-grandniece. That must be something special." She smiled. "I suppose it is." She then turned to Annie. "But what do we tell her though?" "She's family. I think she deserves the truth." She nodded. "Annie?" Annie was busy trying to shift into her chair. "Yes?" Emily waited until Annie was fully into her chair, which took a minute or so, so when Annie finished shifting, she gave Emily a curious look. "Yes?" she repeated. She frowned. "What's wrong?" Emily was crying. She wasn't bawling, she was simply tearing up and staring at Annie with a look of love and admiration. "Thank you," she said simply. Annie blinked in surprise. "Thank you for everything," Emily said. Her eyes were glistening, even sparkling, and she shifted in her seat, moving closer to her. "I don't think I would have been able to do this on my own. I wouldn't have been able to face it." She swallowed and looked at the floor for a moment. "I needed somebody to push me, to help me. I feel I've been in this rut for decades, unable to move on with my life. And then you came into my life, and you saw straight through the bullshit I was putting up, saw the problem, and wouldn't stand for it." "I don't stand for a lot of things," Annie said. Emily smiled. "Thank you. And I owe you. I owe you big." "No, you don't," she protested. "Yes, I do. If you ever need anything, any big favor, you get it. I promise." Annie smiled back, and reached out and took her cold hand. "Thank you, and you're welcome." She squeezed her hand. "Now let's go meet your great-grandniece and tell her we want to stick a needle in her spine." As they got out of her van, Emily wondered out loud. "How are we going to do this? How do you just walk up to someone and say you're her great grand-aunt? Does Hallmark make a card for something like that?" Annie locked her van and rolled to the sidewalk. "We just show her the documentation. If you're nervous, you can let me do all the talking." Emily held up one hand and examined the fair colored skin. "Maybe I should drop the glamour. Come as I am?" "Keep it on for now." She rolled towards the apartment building and saw the steps to the stairwell. "Damn. Hate old apartment buildings." She checked the address. "At least she's on the first floor. That's goo-WHOAH!" She yelped because suddenly Emily grabbed Annie's chair, quickly tilted her back, and easily lifted her over the single step. "Wow!" Annie said, looking back at her. "You're strong!" "Thank you. You're busty. Come on!" They headed towards the door, and as they reached it, Annie knocked while Emily composed herself, taking a deep cleansing breath and blowing out the nervousness in a cloud of condensed mist. "Just a minute!" called a voice from inside. Annie checked on Emily. "You okay?" "Yeah. Just a little nervous. Don't do this every day." The door opened and Crystal McKnight stood there in a T-shirt and jeans, and holding a spoon-full of peanut butter. "Hi! Can I help..." was as far as the young woman could get, but then she saw Emily and her jaw dropped open in utter horror. Emily's jaw dropped open too. Then the peanut butter dropped, and Crystal screamed. "AAAHHH!!! SNOW ANGEL!" "YOU!" Emily shrieked. Annie cocked an eyebrow and looked back and forth between Crystal and Emily. "You two know each other?" she asked. "Awwwk-waaard," Emily sang out. "Uh huh..." Crystal managed, blushing, and her eyes bugging out. Annie just continued looking back and forth between the two women, puzzling out the situation. And even though Annie had know idea of the exact details of how these women last saw each other (Crystal's last memory was of her and Snow Angel passionately kissing and humping their combined dripping labia over Bullwhip's massive cock, the three of them orgasming all over each other, while Snow Angel last remembered Crystal just laying on his bed giggling to herself and covered with sperm, frost, shredded fabrics, and peanut butter), Annie was able to figure out enough. "Oh, Emily," she whined. "Your own great-grandniece?" She paused. "Yeah," she admitted. "WHAT?" shrieked Crystal. "Oy!" Annie shook her head in disgust. "Now this is why you have to keep track of family!" she barked. ------- "You must forgive me," Elizabeth Collins said as she flustered and looked through her folders. "I had no idea you even existed, Mr. Harper." "Please," he replied. "Call me Jonathan." Adamantine sat quietly next to Tombspawn and internally squirmed. "There is no way this is going to work. No fucking way," she thought to herself. "Clever that he used the blood to change his face, and I can see that fooling someone for a short time, but a suddenly-found lost uncle and a forged birth certificate? No, she's got to be looking for frauds. Why did I let him talk me into this?" Despite her doubts, Adamantine just kept a straight face and smiled politely. The couple sat in Miss Collins' office at Child and Family Services, and they watched the harried woman as she perused the documents and records. She gave them a relieved and happy smile. "Well, Jonathan then," she agreed. "I can't begin to tell you how relieved I am to meet you." Adamantine raised an eyebrow reflexively in surprise, and quickly lowered it, hiding her surprise. "But, I am curious why I wasn't informed of you. It surprises me that Joey didn't tell me about you. He always said he had no close family." She frowned. "Do you suppose he lied to me? I wouldn't put it past his foster mother to make him lie to me just to keep him." The man shook his head. "That may be the case, but I would not be surprised if he simply was never told about me. You see, we have never met. His father and I parted company many years ago, long before he was born." "Riiiight," thought Adamantine. "She would have to be a complete idiot to buy that." "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that," Betty said. "What happened?" she asked, concerned. "Okay ... Maybe she is an idiot." "We had a disagreement many years ago over a woman, one which he would not forgive." Adamantine waited for any sign of recognition from either her fake husband or the woman they were currently conning that she was just mentioned. Nothing happened, and since nothing did, she simply smiled and scrunched her nose at Miss Collins. "That would be me," she offered. Betty Collins gave the beautiful buxom woman a once-over, and grimaced at the size of her breasts. "Well, obviously there are just some women who have ... charms that can make men become completely irrational." She consulted her notes again and returned her attention to Tombspawn. "I hope you understand that legally we will have to verify your identity before we can proceed." She looked almost apologetic. "Personally I'm convinced. I can just see the family resemblance. But I will need to verify your documents and do a genetic testing to confirm that you are indeed family." "Genetic testing? Christ! How are we going to pass that?" she thought. Tombspawn nodded. "I'm sure you will find the documents in order, and I am willing to take a test." He glanced at Adamantine. "You will find his blood runs through my veins." "Oh, of course," she realized. "When he ingested the blood, he fused Joey's DNA into his own. He'll pass as a relative. Clever." She relaxed. Betty just beamed back at him. "This is just wonderful. Jonathan, are a God-send, you know that? You know, between you and me, I don't believe he is in the right custody. He should be with his natural family." He frowned. "Is there something wrong with his current setting?" She shrugged indeterminately. "Well, he says he's happy, and he apparently is being well taken care of and disciplined, I'll grant that. But I have my doubts. I simply do not trust his current caretaker." "Why so?" "I just don't think she is all that appropriate for him." "Oh." He thought about it. "I thought maybe you believed she would hide him and herself when you inform her of my existence." Betty startled. "You know, I wouldn't put it past her." She paused on the idea. "She's not all that trustworthy. Very manipulative, very devious. You know the type, don't you?" Adamantine caught her glancing in her direction, and she wondered if Betty was referring to her. She clenched her fist tight, ready to punch through her skull, but steadied herself. Betty just continued, oblivious to the insult she just made. "You know if she did know about you, I believe she would do literally anything to prevent you from taking him. She would probably even take my name off the list." Tombspawn raised an eyebrow. "List? What list?" "Oh, they pal around with superheroes now. They've got this... ' She gestured. " ... thing. This crystal that protects them from intruders. Something from Snow Angel. Nobody supposedly can get into their apartment without their permission." "Really?" Adamantine asked. "Do you know what happens if someone tries?" Betty shrugged again. "Actually no, I don't. Something bad, I understand." She smiled at Tombspawn. "But I did insist of having access to their apartment at any time. And I use it too." Tombspawn bridged his fingers together. "So you can enter their apartment safely. Interesting." He paused long enough for Adamantine to wonder what he was thinking. "But this is all besides the point. My primary concern is for Joey's welfare and happiness. If he truly is happy and well cared for, it would not be wise to take him from his environment." Betty glared at him almost as much as Adamantine wanted to. "Oh, but you MUST take him. He is just STARVING for a traditional family. I KNOW it. I just know it." Tombspawn held up a finger. "If I take him from his home against his desires, it would cause a wound between us that would never heal. But I would like to meet him and offer him the opportunity to live with us. Perhaps after you have done your tests and verifications? Monday perhaps?" "Well, that will certainly give us enough time," Betty answered. Tombspawn gave her a cold smile. "I am looking forward to meeting him. But please, do not inform them of my coming arrival. If his current caretaker is truly as untrustworthy as you believe, it would be best to not warn them." "This is too risky," Adamantine thought. "If the genetic test doesn't work, they'll clamp down their security on him, and we'll lose our chance completely. Too much is riding on this one ability of Tombspawn's. If I could only get a chance to..." Adamantine's phone then rang, interrupting her concerns, and she pulled it out. She smiled at the number on the screen. "Excuse me," she said. "I need to take this. Why don't you two iron out the details. You know my schedule, honey." And she stepped out into the hallway. Once alone, she answered the phone. "Hello?" "Ada? It's me. Brandon, remember?" asked a boy's voice. "Brandon?" she asked. "From the hospital?" She remembered him. It was Joey's classmate, one of the three who he fought. Two were in the hospital, and she seduced both of them for a promise. Brandon was the one with the broken nose. She dropped her voice a register. "How can I forget you, lover?" She could hear the boy practically gush over the phone. "Do you have news for me?" "Yeah, listen. I've been doing what you said. I've been keeping away from the asshole, and watching him. You wanted to know when he's going to be away from his guardians? Well, he's going on a date tomorrow." "A date? How quaint. How did you find out?" "The whole school knows. Listen, if you're going to do something to him, you need to know this. He's not going to be completely alone." "Well, it is a date. I suppose there will be a girl with him." "It's a double date. Joey's dating Lynne, and Lynne's brother Jeff is dating Sarah. They're all four going out to Downtown Silver Spring tomorrow night. You know where that is?" "I'll find it." "Good. Now listen, the girls are nothing. Lynne may put up a fight, but she's a weak telekinetic. She can barely pick up a couple pounds. She can't really hurt anyone. And Sarah is a mage, which could be dangerous, but she's also a complete coward, a mouse. Just scare her once and she's useless in a fight. It's Jeff you have to watch out for." "Jeff? What can he do?" "He's a telekinetic, like his sister, but he got all of the strength. And nobody messes with Jeff. They say he's the strongest telekinetic anyone has ever seen since Psi-Clone. I've seen this guy nearly knock a car over. He can just pick you up with his mind and throw you across the room, or just hold you in mid-air. And once he's got you, there's not a God-damned thing you can do about it. And you can't see the attack coming to dodge it; it's an invisible power." Adamantine nodded. "I see," she said. "If you're going to take out Joey, you need to take out Jeff first. I'll send you a picture of him." She thought about it. "It would probably be best if he were not on the date in the first place," she said. "What do you mean?" "You're a bright boy. I'm sure you can think of something." ------- When Brandon closed his phone, Neil asked him, "So? Wha id she say?" His voice was slightly muffled from his inability to move his jaw. "We need to get Jeff off the date." "How?" Neil asked. Brandon shook his head. "No idea." Neil tried to smile, but it was too difficult to do so through his jaw wiring. "Ashident's happen," he slurred. Brandon nodded and smiled. "Should we ell Lyde?" "Clyde?" Brandon asked. "Fuck no! If he knew about Ada, he take her all for himself. Fuck that." He thought about it, and watched Joey and Lynne walking and chatting in the hallway together. "We can handle this ourselves." ------- To Be Continued... ------- Posted: 2011-06-04 Last Modified: 2013-01-24 / 09:32:57 pm ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------